Shadow Clone Sorcery
Chapter 2: Rolling In Their Graves (2)

When Lukas thought about Arcane Clone, the mass seemed to bend and reshape itself. Invisible hands twisted and pulled, almost tearing off a third. It was an uncomfortable sensation like he was ripping off a part of himself. Things remained as they were until he firmed his grip on Arcane Clone and confirmed his decision to use the ability. The piece separated from the mass, and then another presence rushed to surround it. Given the exhaustion and light-headedness that followed, Lukas was sure he had just used magic.

“This is so bloody disgusting,” a new him whispered, climbing out of the pile of corpses. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“You really don’t know?” Lukas hissed, getting the first real look at himself. Sickly and pale. The new him looked like freshly raised undead. If he wasn’t so obviously starved, Lukas was sure he’d be handsome for once.

“Oh. I know what you were thinking when creating me, but the idea is kind of half-baked, isn’t it?”

“I’m all ears, El-One. Do you have anything better?”

“You don’t need to bite my head off, El-Prime. I’m just wondering whether you have any new information since you started the creation process.”

“I’m as in the dark as you.” Both paused, holding their breaths as another corpse fell from above. More groans sounded from within the darkness. Their conversation had also summoned whispers. More than one strained voice had begged for help. “Start climbing. I’ll make one more of us.”

“Got it, boss. Don’t throw your back out while at it.”

That’s one thing I don’t miss.

The clones were an unruly and talkative bunch when Lukas first learned the ability. It was one of the annoying things he had mostly blocked out. He used clone again and the process was as uncomfortable as the first time, but didn’t last as long. The wobbling mass within seemed to resist as it got split into two, but now that Lukas knew what to expect the process went quicker.

“Any questions, El-Two?” Lukas asked the new clone.

“I’m good, chief,” El-Two replied. “Let’s get moving. I’m ready to die for your skinny butt.”

The grave was deeper than wide. The smooth walls suggested that magic had played a role in its creation. Lukas wondered whether someone had repurposed a well to get rid of the dozens of corpses. Two ropes hung over the side, probably for the fledglings to complete their tasks. He and the clones took full advantage of them.

El-One was already halfway to the top of one. Despite the malnourished state, the body had decent upper body strength. Lukas went up the other, with El-Two following. It wasn’t long before they were all panting. The clones and he were all injured, exhausted, and malnourished, after all. It was likely that the transmigration had brought his current body back from the dead, if not near death, mending a fractured skull and damaged brain. The dull ache plaguing his head intensified with the exertion. Lukas only reminded himself to put one hand in front of the other and continue ascending. When he faltered and slipped, El-Two was there to catch him.

The El-One paused once at the top. He awaited Lukas’s signal before climbing over the edge and running for it.

“A live-un! Get him, ya filthy Softscales!”

“After him!”

Several bird calls and screeches followed.

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“Come get me, you feathery dick-faces!” El-One called from the distance. It sounded as if he had already put significant distance between himself and the mass grave.

Lukas counted down from five before sticking his head out of the hole. The two overseeing the grave had their back to him. They were humanoid, short, and wide, with feathery necks but also had scales covering parts of their exposed limbs. He didn’t know how long El-One would distract them without falling and running. El-Two didn’t follow. He grabbed a bloody axe lying next to the hole and attacked and charged at the distracted duo, targeting the heavier staff-wielding specimen.

A smoking mansion sat on the mountainside to Lukas’s left. The roof had fresh holes, and armored corpses stood skewered on the roof. Meanwhile, the surrounding village continued to fill the air with dark, suffocating smoke. Only embers and singed beams remained of the buildings. Feathers, blood, limbs, and more littered the ground. Strange graffiti covered the few walls that stood. All displayed a crimson bird with an ugly beak. The decoration around them almost seemed religious. Lukas didn’t know enough to take a guess and continued running.

The fluid blob his sixth sense detected swelled, doubling in size. A rush of memories followed. Lukas recalled the sensation of arrows biting into his gangly limbs and shoulders and saw El-One’s final moments as a lizard-bird-man jumped out from behind a building, wielding a twisted club. It swung into the clone’s face, instantly killing him.

El-One had two purposes: to distract the creatures draw them away from Lukas and learn as much about them as possible. The creatures were humanoid raptors, except a giant horned beak sat in place of their snouts. Knowledge from his last realm continued to fade rapidly, but everything he had learned on Earth somehow became sharper. It occurred to him that their heads resembled Shoebills, one of the largest living birds from when he first transmigrated. It wouldn’t surprise him if it had gone extinct in the past half-century.

The blob grew again, returning to full size. El-Two had perished. Much to Lukas’s surprise, the clone had successfully slain both of the targeted creatures. The first fell to the surprise attack, taking an axe to its scaly neck, and it coughed a luminous crimson marble. Unfortunately, its death rattle alerted the seemingly younger, slender, and more colorful companion. El-Two managed to claim a fallen spear and planted it in the creature's gut but then took an arcane blast to the chest. Both had died of their wounds in seconds. Memories of the final moments flooded his head, but it was the disappointment of leaving behind the magical sphere that stung. It most likely contained power or was at least worth a pretty penny.

Now that I think about it, the memories of pain and death aren’t as vivid. Secret bonus, maybe?

Lukas didn't get much time to think things over. Squawks sounded not far behind him, and arrows fell like hail around him. His lungs burned, and his knees felt like jelly. They begged him to stop, but Lukas refused.

I'm not going to outrun them.

The path brought him closer to the destroyed manor. A squat stone building further downhill from it caught his attention. Cart wheels and hoof tracks scarred the ground around it and runes covered the door, its frame and surrounding walls. The structure had protections and would hopefully buy him some time.

Lukas threw himself against the door. It didn't budge. He pulled on the handle, and the surrounding runes flared, resisting him. There was a reason the building remained unmolested and undamaged. Enchantments and arcane defenses had kept it standing unmolested.

The arcane language was beyond Lukas. No matter how much he squinted and traced, nothing came to him. The clattering of arrows and approaching shouts only made his heart race faster and his heart pound more, making it harder to focus. He kept low, hoping the creatures would continue to miss as he desperately searched for a solution.

Give me something! Come on.

Lukas kicked the door, cursing under his breath. Before he could look for another option, an arrow finally found him. It ripped through his sleeve, grazing his upper arm and slicing across his deltoids. He stumbled into the door, wincing as the new wound rubbed against the inscribed surface.

The runes lit up. Lukas stepped back just in time to see fresh blood seeping into the stone. The door opened, and he dove through before pulling it closed behind him. A mechanism clicked, and spell scripts flared, fading just as suddenly as they had appeared and leaving Lukas in the dark and unexpected frigid temperature.

Memories that weren’t his own or the clone’s flashed through his mind’s eye. His new body was intimately familiar with the building and had been to it many times before. Lukas summoned his journal and used its sapphire light to illuminate the storehouse. Wheels of cheese, sacks of flour, and preserved meats surround him.

Was I a kitchen porter?