Shadow Clone Sorcery
Chapter 13: The Shadow Seeker's Guild (2)

Lukas walked off when the woman only replied with a death stare. The guild’s training ground proved bigger, cleaner, and better maintained than expected—it was almost as if they kept the entrance purposely shoddy. Training dummies lined one wall. A targeting range stood opposite it. The center was a large open patch of sand. A trio practiced unarmed fighting forms under a middle-aged woman. Two pairs sparred near the far wall, moving so fast he struggled to follow their technique. None of them spared Lukas a glance.

After taking a moment to stretch, Lukas drew his short sword. He brought the blade to his lips and whispered, “Frar.”

Over the past sixty years, Lukas and his clones had trialed all the intoxicating substances the Realm of Greater Beings had to offer. Addiction was never a concern because as soon as the piece of Lukas consuming the substance died or was dispelled, all dependency and draw went with it. None of it was taboo. No laws limited consumption, alchemists pedalled all kinds of wares, and Lukas was constantly on the lookout for whatever made him most effective. Sometimes, things went great. More often than not, the clone died or dispelled himself.

Colors grew more vivid. The smell of sweat, sand, and the sea gained intensity. Lukas’s skin itched, growing more sensitive to all of his garments. He hopped on the balls of his feet, feeling lighter and his joints looser. The enchantment ran deep, triggering a physiological change. It wasn’t just his body that was faster but all of him. The world seemed to slow by the minutest of fractions, and the sparring pairs’ movements became somewhat easier to follow. Every step carried Lukas further as he moved. It almost felt like he was walking on air. Then, he ran, expecting to stumble and fall, instead, he felt as surefooted as ever.

Holy complex enchantments!

There was no telling how long the enchantment would last, but Lukas made the most of it, running laps and getting his heart rate up. He glimpsed the martial arts teacher and her students out of the corner of his eye, awareness heightened. They watched him as he broke into a sprint, running from one corner of the training ground to the other. Lukas didn’t recall feeling as fast when he first gained the Arcane Clone from Lady Silverspine. In fact, the ability hadn’t changed his physiology like the shard. His body had remained perfectly ordinary until he acquired food and potions that enhanced his physiology and then learned Body Reinforcement magic.

As Lukas moved with the blade, it felt like a part of him. Its energy, along with whatever formed the clone’s shell, had linked. He could feel the weapon drawing on him, taking a trickle with every passing heartbeat. Then, the connection faded along with the sword’s enchantment. In the moments before the bond ended, Lukas got a sense of the weapon’s magical stores. Three-fourths of it remained.

Two minutes? That’s a long time in a fight.

“You’re fast.” One of the sparring pairs wandered over while Lukas caught his breath and massaged the stitch in his side. “Is it a spell or shard ability?”

“Shard,” Lukas answered, panting, He had picked up enough about shards in the past couple of weeks. Thanks to the sword, he had a better lie. “I’m more agile and surefooted when wielding a sword. Now, I just need to get good with one.”

“Are you a new member or here to get assessed?” The other of the pair asked.

“Assessed.”

“If you’re approved, be sure to join,” the woman continued. “Shadow Seekers has some of the best light weapons trainers around. And if you join, we’re always around to spar.”

“Sparring is the best way to get better,” her friend added. He looked like he was in his late teens. “The other guilds think it's only good for facing other human opponents, but they’re talking out of their hairy butts.”

“I—”

“We’re fast,” the teenager interrupted, refusing to let Lukas get a word in. “They’re slow. By the time they get into formation, we’ve already finished the fight.”

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

“Shadow Seekers unite!” The young woman chanted, joining. Now that Lukas got a closer look, she didn’t look much older than his new body. “We kick—”

“How many times do I have to tell you two not to talk to potential newbies?” The sudden interruption made all three of them almost jump out of her skin. While Lukas looked around them for the voice’s owner, the pair looked up. A much too skinny and tall man stood on the wall above, perpendicular to the surface below his feet. His proportions and brown, ratty clothing made him look more like a stick insect than a man. “If you weird out another recruit and make him run away, I’ll ensure you only get rat contracts for a month.”

“We were just trying to be friendly,” the teenager protested.

“Sorry, Snake,” the woman said, flashing the ban an apologetic smile. “We were just having a laugh. I promise it won’t happen again. Please, no rats.”

“I apologize on their behalf.” The man dropped to the ground as the pair walked away, waving at Lukas. “They mean well but can be a bit much.” He shook Lukas’s hand. “I’m Davros, the Iskander chapter of Shadow Seeker’s vice leader.”

“Why do they call you Snake?” Lukas asked.

The man’s hand shot towards Lukas, weaving around an attempted block like the arm had no bones. Lukas yelped, trying to retreat but was too slow. The hand and its owner closed in before he could react further and stopped a hair short of the throat. Davros’s arm held the S-shape for a moment before it retreated, returning to normal.

“It's an old fighting pit name. Move like a snake. Use venoms. Be fast and sneaky. People will call you Snake. It's an inevitability.” Davros smiled. He pulled out a triangular crystal filled with silver motes of light. The man poked Lukas’s arm with it without asking. A sharp jolt followed, and the motes spread, filling the prism. “Soul Pillar. Mid-tier-one. So, you’re not completely green.”

“What was that?” Lukas frowned, rubbing his arm as the electric jolt passed.

“Our scryer is off in the undercity on guild business,” Davros answered, holding up the crystal device. A power compass and unrecognizable pictograms filled it. Most floated around the Western point, which usually represented the Soul Pillar. “This gives us a rough idea of an individual’s capabilities. You move well and seem decent enough. I’m happy to proceed with the testing, but first, I have a question. Why Shadow Seekers? What do you know about us?”

“Nothing,” Lukas answered. “To be honest, one of the biggest draws was that you accept just about anybody. I’m weak, lost most of who I am, and was to a Wyrmkin raid, and am just trying to make something of myself. Someplace to start afresh, make connections, and learn to fight is just what I need.” He paused, watching Davros’s expression. “I barely escaped. And I am only alive because I’m great at sneaking around and running away. Even then, there were far too many close calls. I’d be dead if my brother hadn’t found a portal spell scroll and dragged me to the vet near Draper’s Street. I’m done feeling helpless and weak. I want to know how to fight back and protect myself.”

“Excellent pitch,” Davros nodded. “But are you aware that most other guilds consider us thieves, assassins, and spies? And that we’re holding onto our status as an adventurer’s guild only by a thread.”

“I hadn’t heard, but it doesn’t really make a difference. If you can teach me to sneak better and strike from the shadows without getting hurt, that’s a bonus, too. People can talk all they want. Results are the only thing that matters.”

Davros studied Lukas, eyes narrowed. “Has anyone ever told you that you don’t talk the age you look?”

“Far too many times.” Lukas chuckled. “My brother makes up for it. He acts half his age and never takes anything seriously. I’m mostly here to train and for an undercity access license. My employer wishes to take me down using hers, but I’d like to explore alone, too.”

“Just be careful going down without proper training or preparation,” Davros said. “I mostly asked because we’ve had a wave of people your age getting licenses and taking their friends down using it. Most of them die or return crippled. I wouldn’t want you to take your brother down unprepared and face the same fate. It's bad for our already struggling reputation.”

“He’s a better fighter and more competent than me,” Lukas said, surprised to learn that only one member of a team needed a license. “But thank you for your concern. If you’ll have me, I’d still like that provisionary membership.”

Davros stood silent for a moment. His pupil appeared to turn into a slit for a brief moment. Lukas blinked, and it was back to an ordinary circular whole. “Fine. You seem decent enough, and the scryer doesn’t lie. Let’s see you move again.

“Curious if it was just luck that helped me survive the Wyrmkin?”

“Indeed.” Davros waved at the teenager from earlier. “Can we make young Lukas Zaun a sparring partner?”

“Got it, boss!” The young man called. He dropped to his knees and pressed his palms to the floor. Gold and crimson flooded his eyes. They glowed so bright looking directly at his face proved challenging.

Holy crap! Big Mouth is a magic user?