“After Arcane Cloning, I poured all of my focus into the Telepathy spell,” he answered. “It’s not the best over grand distances, but it has been great for training and intelligence gathering. Along with Transformation, of course.”
“Explains your competency as a spy and thief.” Lady Silverspine paused, her giant dragon eyes dimmed. It felt as if she was looking straight through Lukas. “Have you been spying on me for the others?”
“No. I might be playing the field to an almost suicidal extent, but you were my first employer and the one who gave me my first bit of magic. The clones in service to others worked to gather information for you, but that doesn’t mean they can’t reap the benefits of serving other Great Powers while at it.”
“And how do I know you’re not saying the exact same things to the others?”
“Have you faced any setbacks or losses because of the Five in the past six decades?” Lukas asked, nodding at the floating images. “No. You’ve only profited from their mistakes and failures. I might favor the Lich for some years and the Hermit after. But you’ve always come first.” His matter-of-fact tone hadn’t failed him thus far, and he stuck to it. “You may not pay as much as Minarv or treat me as well as the dwarf, but you’ve consistently helped me grow stronger and learn. It might’ve been to serve you better, but I’m—”
“Are you being frank or brown-nosing?”
He shrugged. “Can’t it be both?”
“Do you have what I requested?” Lady Silverspine shrank to her humanoid form. She returned to her throne but didn’t bother covering herself. The perfection she displayed was only achievable through careful design and refinement. Her unnatural symmetry and lack of flaws gave her away as a Greater Being, and Lukas couldn’t help but find it off-putting.
“And more,” Lukas answered, fishing a pouch from his coat pocket. The dragon-woman purred like a cat when a glass sphere filled with golden flames emerged from it. Luminous feathers that appeared carved from crystallized fire followed. “I wasn’t sure if you had any use for the feathers, but I grabbed the best of them anyway.”
“The phoenix didn’t give you much trouble, did it?”
“Finding him was the issue, my lady. In case you're wondering, no. I didn’t dare face him in direct combat.”
“So you tricked him?” Lady Silverspine asked, snorting.
“Trickery and deception have lower mortality rates. The monster loved seducing old ladies, burning them to a crisp, and then stealing anything of value. I had a transformed clone pose as the perfect mark. Then—”
“Spare me the details.” Lady Silverspine held up a delicate hand. The fingernails were perfectly manicured and ended in sharp, tapered points. “You send clones for all the dangerous jobs.”
“Death still hurts, and the final moments of pain and trauma haunt my nightmares. That’s until Empress Minarv purges them, of course.”
“Of course.” Lady Silverspine laughed. “Fine. Lukas Zaun, I release you from servitude. Which of your gifts would you like to take to Fracture with you?”
“Arcane Clone, of course.”
“I expected as much,” the ancient silver dragon sighed. “Power works differently on Fracture. I’ll have to weaken the ability and return it to its base form. Are you fine with that?”
“Will it retain the ability to create physical copies?” Lukas asked. “Will I absorb everything they have learned when they die or are dispelled?”
Lady Silverspine nodded. “You’ll lose the volume. They might not be able to use magic until you find and master the appropriate complementary abilities. Location swapping will be lost, too.”
“As long as I can use them to learn, train, and gather intelligence, everything else is secondary.”
“Fair enough.” Lady Silverspine snapped her fingers, and the phoenix’s core disappeared. The feathers floated off the ground, came together in a swirling tornado, and fused. Runes flowed from where the sorcerer's staff stood, climbing out of the crystal and off the wood like a line of ants and joining the miniature vortex. The feathers lost their glossy texture and luminosity and transformed into a palm-sized leather-bound journal. “Consider it a part of your severance.”
Everything within trembled and vibrated when Lukas’s fingers grazed the worn leather. He knew at touch that the journal was a part of him. “This is soulbound, isn’t it?”
“Correct. The transmigration will put you in a new body. Knowledge gained on this realm and the specifics of relating to us Greater Beings may blur, fade, or warp. The journal will help you hold onto some things you’ve learned, universal truths, and the life that preceded this one. Tracking power and growth on Fracture can also be challenging, depending on where you are. The journal will provide valuable assistance.”
Driven by eagerness, Lukas flipped it open. The front page displayed a compass but lacked the traditional annotations, and the heading read ‘Pillars of Self.’ Body sat in place of North, and Heart occupied East’s position. Where South should’ve been, there was Mind, and Soul resided in West’s spot.
“Well, this takes half the fun out of starting afresh,” he commented, checking the blank pages that followed before returning to the compass. “I rather like figuring things out for myself.”
“There is plenty left unsaid and yet to be discovered,” the dragon said. “Don’t look a gift dragon in the mouth. You’ll be thankful when you start in a teenage or young adult body and find yourself lagging behind everyone else. Figuring out how abilities and magic function on Fracture and the Pillars of Self won’t be an easy feat, especially as an outsider. You’ll need all the help you can get.”
“And I don’t owe you anything for the journal? The scales are balanced?”
Lady Silverspine grinned. “As you said, I have interests on Fracture. The journal will offer quests and reward you for seeing them fulfilled. You can reject them if you want. It won’t change much. However, power is readily found but hard to process. The journal will remove hurdles and increase your chances of survival and success. It's your best bet if you want to become a Great Power and achieve immortality in your next natural lifespan.”
“Thank you.” Lukas would’ve preferred it if she just cut him loose. He had held up his part of the bargain, after all. But her unwillingness to just leave him be came as no surprise. He was too good an employee to release.
“I’m sure the taste of your first reward or thirst for power will change your mind,” Lady Silverspine said. The phoenix's core appeared, floating in front of her face. The dragon licked her lips hesitantly, reaching for it. “Begone. I’m sick of you and bored with this conversation.”
“I had one last question.”
“What is it?”
“How much will I forget? Will transmigration take everything? Will it change who I am?”
“You needn’t worry,” the dragon answered, her face softening. The expression appeared alien on her, but Lukas detected genuine concern. “It’s arcane knowledge and information against the world’s powers that will fade. Not your memories and what makes you, you.” She paused. “Much. It's a safety precaution of the transmigration process. The laws of magic and science are different in every realm. Misusing something you learned here might be catastrophic on Fracture. Your new home will want to protect itself, primarily from things you’ve learned here. Hence the fading.”
“I’m not particularly comforted but I suppose it's better than forgetting who I am, and what made me.”
“That’s safe. You might forget some of your escapades and how you developed and improved your spells and abilities. However, the actual applications and ideas will remain. The same will go for the bulk of your adventures—” Lady Silverspine paused. “Half the fun is in figuring things out, right? Get out before I decide to keep you here for good.”
Now that Lukas had what he needed and desired, he wasted no more time on the other Greater Beings. The more time the clones spent around them, the more the chances of encountering trouble and obstacles would increase. They all had connections on Fracture, after all. He dispelled all of his clones, including the one sitting on the beach with the Ocean Emperor’s second daughter. Even his current consciousness with the journal vanished, but thanks to the item being bound to his soul, it traveled to his true self.
The only Lukas Zaun that remained was the true El-Prime, sitting in the remote mountain manor between all lands of the Great Powers he served. The location ensured that the real him never had to leave home, and he hadn’t in close to five years.
Everything the clones had learned and experienced in their journeys flowed into Lukas’s subconscious, ready to be called forth when necessary. It was likely that the files and shelves of his mental library would disappear once transmigrated, but he cared little for them. The only thing that mattered was the scroll that followed the new soul-bound journal.
“Thank you, Lady Silverspine,” Lukas whispered, breaking the magical seal.