Following the shopping incident, Lukas started pushing the clones harder. Most of the days went into intense training at the Shadow Seekers guildhouse. El-Two’s Three-Stage Spear caught a trainer’s interest.

“What in the Leviathan’s name do you think you’re doing?” The middle-aged man demanded. He wore bright, colorful clothing unlike most Shadow Seekers, and they strongly contrasted his dark, almost wrinkle-free skin. Only his eyes and salt-and-pepper hair betrayed his probable age.

“Practising?” The clone asked, unsure of how to react. He had spent the past several hours alternating between sword swings and spear thrusts at different lengths. His form was far from perfect, but stances learned during unarmed training helped him stay balanced.

“To do what? Cut off your own fingers and bits?” The man sighed, shaking his head. “Just because you found an interesting, unique weapon doesn’t mean you should buy it. Give it here.” As soon as El-One returned the weapon to its short-sword form, the stranger snatched it from the clone’s grip. “There’s a reason these fell out of fashion. You need to know the biggest issue with a weapon like this?”

“You need to learn three different weapons?”

“No. Anyone with time, dedication, and talent can do that. But that’s not enough for something like this.” The man took the extra long handle in both hands and began spinning the shortsword in front of him, then extended to short spear form without pausing or missing a breath. “You need to blend all three together and create an entirely new martial art. Because if you’re not making most of the blink-and-you-miss-it extensions and retractions, you’re wasting a good deal of the weapon’s power and versatility.”

“The issue is finding someone willing and capable of teaching me.” The clone sighed. “I was hoping self-teaching and practice would get me where I need to go.”

“You won’t find any,” the man replied. He executed a couple of perfect thrusts at maximum length, shadow-blocked an incoming attack, and immediately shortened it to the base form before transitioning into a slash at throat level. “I haven’t seen one of these things since before my great-grandfather passed, and even then, it was in the hands of practitioners older than him.” He held the weapon out toward El-Two, handle first. “The extra long handle is more a detriment than an advantage in shortsword form. But that can be overcome with skill.”

El-Two took the weapon back, sighing. “I won this thing in a bet,” he said. “I thought it could be fun and powerful, especially for catching people off guard and ambushes. Now, you have me wondering whether I should just sell the thing.”

“Because they’re rare and the piece is in excellent condition, the right collector might be willing to pay a fair bit for it. Alternatively, we can figure it out together. You clearly need training. Swords just happen to be my specialty, and spears are easy enough.” The man grinned. “Want to figure out how to use one of these things together? I always wanted to play with one, but my father called them stupid.”

The clone’s eyes narrowed as he looked the man up and down. “And you don’t want any pay in exchange?”

“Fulfilled childhood fantasies are almost payment enough,” the man replied, grin widening. “I also need a strapping young man for an upcoming job. You can help me with that, too. I’ll do most of the difficult work, and you’ll get a decent cut.”

“You’re making all of this sound too good to be true,” El-Two said, frowning. “I won’t have to sleep with anyone ancient or disgusting, do I?”

“No. Not at all.” The man laughed. “You can if you want, but it's not a compulsion. We just need to get into a curtain expedition party. Your fresh, unknown, and inexperienced face is just going to make it easier.”

“This isn’t giving me any confidence or helping me feel much better.” El-Two sighed, almost sure of what El-Prime would say. “But sure. Let’s do it. Just don’t get me entangled in something too messy, alright?”

“I’d never.” A serious expression replaced the wide grin. “Kwame. The chapter considers me the quartermaster.”

“It’s because he lives in a blighted armory,” Snake called, heading sticking out of a window overlooking the courtyard. “And hoards weapons like they’re grain sacks during a famine.”

“Says the worst student I’ve ever had,” Kwame chided before returning his attention to El-Two. “They call me the quartermaster because I’m a jack of all trades when it comes to weapons and fighting styles but the master of none.”

“And he changes weapons like they’re underwear.” Snake adopted a mocking tone and spoke in the same lower register as Kwame. “I don’t care if the briefing says we need spears. I’m in the mood for axes today.”

“I also brought a halberd, didn’t I?” Kwame grumbled. “It got the job done.” He shook his head. “Ignore Snake. He’s never beaten me in a duel and is salty about it.”

“That’s because you’re sneakier than me with all the hidden weapons and shit! Come at me—”

“Lukas Zaun.” They shook hands. “I look forward to working with you.”

The more time Lukas spent among the Shadow Seekers, the more he grew to like them. They were rowdy and rough around the edges, and their moods seemed to change at the drop of a hat. However, they were an entertaining bunch. Even though he had just joined the guild, they treated him—more accurately—the clones well and had been generous with advice and tips for making the most of his jobs in the undercity.

Meanwhile, things changed at the smithy. The man Kat’s father had hired didn’t last a week. He didn’t disclose what exactly had happened. There was talk of incompetency, unsafe habits, and thievery. Unfortunately, the business had accepted a large order for which they needed the extra staff member and now were in a tight spot. They had no choice but to turn to Elvis to fill the gap.

It was a rough start. The job required turning scrap metal and failed commissions or pieces into billets the smiths could use to forge high-quality weapons and armor. They were meant for a large expedition heading deep into the undercity. Failure to deliver would damage the business’s reputation among one of the richest guilds in the city, and people talked.

“I’ll give ya credit where credit is due,” the blacksmith told ‘Elvis,’ smacking a rectangular slab of steel against his design table. It made a satisfying, dull thud. Nothing cracked. “You’ve taken to forge-welding surprisingly well. Are you sure you don’t have any experience?”

Elvis shrugged. “I don’t remember, boss. It wasn’t that hard. I just followed your instructions. Break scrap and waste steel into small chunks. Get ‘em roaring hot until they’re almost ready to melt. Then hammer away like the bastard slept with my wife.”

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

The statement got a giggle out of Kat. She leaned against a nearby pillar, watching the pair with a little smile. When Elvis looked at her, she sent a flying kiss his way, and he responded with a wink. If her father saw the exchange, he didn’t let them know. What the pair didn’t know was the clone was using tips and tricks he picked up from the History Channel. During his university days, Lukas had developed an obsession with a show called Forged in Fir,e where competitors crafted historical and fantasy weapons within a time limit. The challenges often involved using scrap metal and using techniques from different parts of the world and periods of history. It was part of the reason why he had pushed a clone into blacksmithing.

“Did you fold it too?” The blacksmith asked.

“I drew out the metal while it was still hot,” Lukas answered. “Cut it into smaller pieces, stacked them up, forged welded a second time, and drew it out again. It took me a few tries to get it right, but Kat said you needed higher-quality steel but didn’t have the budget for it.”

The blacksmith shot his daughter an annoyed glare. She smiled innocently before looking away.

“Good job.” The man nodded. “I’m glad you’ve been sticking around late for genuine work and not just getting up to no good. Keep this up, and we might just make a proper smith out of you. Perhaps you’ll impress me enough to win my delinquent daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“Lukey is going to be so jealous.” Elvis had laughed.

Lukas was more annoyed with the clone’s entanglement with Kat than jealous. It came with the risk of adding complications and shortening their time in Iskander. However, the relationship also came with practical forging lessons, more opportunities, and living the bladesmithing dreams that had filled Lukas’s teenage and young adult years.

Burns. Cuts. Crushed fingers.

Constant and regular injuries became a regular issue. Elvis always returned the following day, early and ready, as good as new. The lie regarding his shard ability grew more plausible, and Kat’s father trusted him more. By the end of his second week of employment, injury frequencies dropped, and his responsibilities increased. He still had a long way to go to figure out temperatures and timing, but it was a start. Kat’s father warmed up to Elvis, but opportunities to flirt with her and slip away for little ‘chats’ decreased.

The pressure for increasing clone numbers increased when the blacksmiths discussed taking Elvis on full-time. Lukas didn’t want such a commitment, but he wished to accumulate wealth and not rely solely on fighting monsters or thievery for it.

With memories of the Realm of Greater Beings fading, Earth memories and knowledge had started to sharpen. There were several bits of technology Lukas wished to replicate on Fracture but needed blacksmithing to ensure his secrets didn’t get out and labor costs remained low. So, he had Elvis appear eager about learning and working more. Lukas still wasn't sure whether the clone's activities had anything to do with the ability's growth, but the journal had much to say about it.

Arcane Clone has progressed to rank 8!

Magic demands and creation time have decreased.

Meanwhile, Lukas ensured Penelope always had a porter at hand. He took over the daytime duties of following her around, carrying her heavy tomes and chests between building entrances and her carriages. He also delivered and picked up a few packages for her. As soon as the clones were free, they took over, so Lukas never had to personally head out after dark.

A week passed in her employ, and Lukas failed to learn much about Penelope. She kept her cards close to her chest. The parcels were always well packed, padded, and wrapped, making their contents impossible to discern. Lukas didn’t want to ruin the opportunity by tampering with anything. However, he knew from shaking them that the contents were occasionally fluid or suspended in a fluid, leaving him to wonder whether he was transporting biological samples.

On a couple of occasions, the clones noticed signs of being followed. El-Two got pursued once, but Lukas and the clones had uncovered several shortcuts or populated safe spots around the city and utilized them to get away from pursuers. Penelope always said that it wouldn’t be long before things got more dangerous and powerful sharded individuals came for the packages, but the day never came.

Lukas and the clones also put a list together of everywhere she went and worked. The arcane research center near Esther’s clinic took up most of her time. He saw the vet occasionally visiting. She often had a tethered beast in tow. He wasn’t familiar with Fracture’s fauna, but none of the specimens appeared normal. There was a sheep keeping whose hooves on the ground seemed an eternal struggle. Its cloudy wool crackled with electricity. There was also a lizard whose spine spikes glowed gold and a cat whose mane appeared made from fine crystalline hairs. All the specimens fascinated him.

Penelope frequently visited the two magic academies in the neighborhood. Unlike Lukas, the clones had great success chatting up the cleaning and kitchen staff in all establishments. They didn’t have details of what the sorcerer was up to, but Lukas learned that all establishments bought mysterious materials, packages, and corpses coming up from the undercity.

An entrance to the down-below, as they called it, sat near the research center. Many talked about secret passages connecting the building to the guard house that vetted and analyzed everything coming up, ensuring no hazardous materials, live organisms, or dangerous relics got through. However, knowing how the law functioned in Iskander, Lukas was sure a lot slipped through the cracks while bribes exchanged hands.

When the day of accompanying Penelope into the undercity came, Lukas and the clones were ready. The smithy and Shadow Seeker’s trainers received advanced notice regarding the job and knew that the exact return time and day were up in the air. Kat and her father had Elvis work overtime to ensure enough billets were prepared for a few days. Thanks to him, they were already decently stocked, and the absence wasn’t too big an issue.

Esther introduced Lukas to a decent fence, as promised. He made three-quarters of the market price of average essences and second-hand weapons. In the vet’s experience, the man paid approximately ten percent more than others in his profession and knew how to keep his mouth shut. Lukas didn’t ask how she had such a contact and had experience with other fences. It was none of his business.

Since Lukas had no need for the Essence of Feathers, he got rid of it along with most of the stolen weapons. The Three-Stage Spear stayed with El-Two, and El-One got a sturdy flanged mace. All the money from the sale got reinvested in equipment. It also gave him the opportunity to test the limitations of Arcane Clone.

Whenever Lukas used the ability, it created a copy of himself—with or without empowerment—in the exact same clothes as he was wearing. Little trinkets like badges, spectacles, pocketwatches, and the like got copied too. It seemed Lukas needed to be wearing the object specifically. When he tried it with his sword strapped to his belt, the belt and sheat got copied but not the weapon. Similarly, he tried it in the backroom of a store wearing the breastplate and vambraces of a half-plate armor. Only copies of the latter materialized, and they proved brittle and easily dented.

“The clone body doesn't have crumpled zones, boss,” El-Two joked poorly, leaving Lukas to wonder whether they were losing their sense of humor.

Unlike the metal, the leather padding and straps were intact. Their quality seemed marginally worse than the original, leading Lukas to believe they wouldn't survive much strain or prolonged use. It was a moot point when it came to the clones. They only needed to survive a confrontation or too. Then, Lukas could just dispel and resummon them to restore all clothes and leather to be the same condition as his. So, he settled for alchemically cured leather. It was lighter and quieter and allowed him to retain a full range of motion and flexibility.

Selling the Essence of Feathers and weapons made him a hundred and thirty crowns plus several chips and bits in change. After extensive negotiation, a set consisting of a breastplate, epaulettes, vambraces, leg guards, boots, and simple helmet left him with just over a hundred. It felt like a worthwhile investment. The material was alchemically treated, and several pieces contained steel reinforcements. Inspector's Compendium confirmed the vendor's claims. Lukas wore his coat over the outfit, and it was a snug but comfortable fit.

A few crowns went into supplies, sturdy packs, climbing equipment, and rope. Apparently, it got cold and wet, and the uneven terrain demanded a fair deal of climbing. When the end of the week came, and it was time to descend, Lukas and his ‘brother’ felt more than ready.