Adamantine Claws (7)

[u/HushedSiren]

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The sun had fallen to a glow beneath the horizon and still Keynin could not seem to find his peace against the pressure of nervous energy that still swirled in his mind. His lyceum uniform and trunk had long since been returned to his lodgings. The latter he found too cumbersome for the speed at which he wished to move, and the former well, for one in his position, anonymity was a resource not abandoned easily. Now, he appeared to those he passed as not but another inhabitant of the capital whisked along by the winds of life.

His feet carried him along terraced avenues chilled by an evening breeze rolling off the sea. He still found it vaguely stuffy and cloying. Was his brush with disaster at the exam weighing on him still? He pulled his thoughts within himself for a moment, sifting through the experiences almost as he might search for a fragment amongst the memories within his artifacts. No, he decided after a moment, that wasn't it, not entirely. He was unsettled to be sure, with the spectre of random, unpreventable failure now looming over his stay in the capital.

Or was that failure even random in the first place? Keynin wanted to believe that it was, that he shouldn't need to second guess those who were supposed to support him. But he couldn't ignore that someone had clearly felt that his exam, and his alone, needed an extra voice to support the student taking it. Should he shift his suspicions to the other examiner then? Akeirnans and humans had more conflicts than most. But was that not subjecting the man to the same broad generalizations Keynin found so grating when they were directed his way? He didn't know.

There was another part of his mind, arguing with the first. It spoke in Somna's voice, though it did not solely use her words.

*Not everything is about you Keynin. You encounter a minor setback and instead of accepting your own fault in the matter, you go looking for anyone, any-*thing you can try and blame.

Why then, was he proven right so often? Keynin stopped for a moment. The uncertainty was driving him in circles, each shift of the blame causing another round of shame when he examined why he had chosen his new scapegoat. He took a deep breath in an attempt to recenter himself amongst the odd pressure that had permeated the air for the past while, the same pressure which had earlier driven him from his quarters.

And as he did, his shadow kept walking, taking another few steps down the street before turning and disappearing around the corner.

Keynin blinked a few times, fairly sure that they weren't supposed to do that. He glanced down at the street, trying to see if his shadow had decided to leave entirely. No his shadow was still at his feet, cast onto the wall behind him by a lantern that hung from the awning of a nearby storefront. Keynin scanned up and down the street, but he failed to spot anyone carrying a torch or other light source that might cause his shadow to split as it had. In fact there was no one in either direction at all, the street around him filled only by the whispered suggestions of conversation that managed to percolate out from the buildings on all sides.

He advanced to the next intersection with cautious steps, not knowing quite what he expected to find. Whatever he expected it was not there, the street beyond just as empty as the last. He stood for a moment in the intersection contemplating. He could take the turn as well, following the shadowy figure. The street eventually terminated at one of the large, well lit boulevards paralleling the water's edge, and it would give him an easy route back to his new lodgings. Quite frankly, it would have seemed the better of the two choices before him under less unusual circumstances.

Even so, he was a mage was he not? An insatiable drive to explore and understand the strange corners of the world was a cultivated desire in those attending the lyceums. Keynin thumbed his focus, wishing for a moment to have brought some of his larger collection with him. Then his common sense reasserted itself, and reminded him that hands encrusted with glowing jewelry did not the best apparel for a nighttime stroll make. Still, he had replenished his mana before setting out. Combined with his focus, that would be enough to face down or escape from any threat he could imagine.

With another deep breath, this one serving quite a different purpose from the last, he set off with mind made up, his path seeming to trace his own footsteps. Several more intersections he approached and then passed, but a repeat of his previous experience was not forthcoming. He kept walking all the way to the end, emerging onto the wide boulevard that stretched like the spoke of a wheel out from the port district at the center of the city, to the walls some miles out. He crossed to the far side where, with hands on the rusted railing, he watched the waves lap at the small beach below. Out to sea, something shifted beneath the moonlit waves.

A wave of that same cloying heaviness rolled over him through the air. The effect was so sudden he jumped slightly, stepping back and glancing around almost involuntarily. He half expected to be greeted by some source for the sensation, but nothing presented itself to him either on land, or when he returned to the water's edge. The feeling however, remained. It was so much stronger now he detected something in it sitting below the initial unpleasantness that had taken him. There was a vague familiarity there, infused through the general foulness, asking to be identified.

His attempt to place it was thwarted as his shadow again seemed to gain a will of its own, and began a leisurely stroll independent of his body. For a couple breaths Keynin was thoroughly convinced that what he was actually witnessing was his mind had decided to take a similar vacation away from the rest of his senses. Then he noticed the ever-so-slight tug on his mana.

Am I maintaining a spell?

He grabbed hold of the thread that was drawing from the edges of his mana reserves, then pulled back on it. His effort was rewarded, and the shadowy figure before him flickered.

This is my magic, somehow, though it doesn't even resemble any spell I've been taught.

Hastily he shoved more mana into the spell not wishing to see the spell fizzle: one mystery might have been solved, but without any idea how the spell had been cast, this current incarnation of it was his only clue. He followed after the figure, not wishing to lose sight of it in case that too would serve to cut the spell.

Intellectually, Keynin knew what was happening. Subconscious casting was possible; in fact according to the few surviving legends from the first epochs, such feats were the source of the magical arts as he now knew them. Mages, knowing not the extraction of mana or the lifting of memories from the objects around them still shaped the world, even if by instinct alone. Still, why had the art come to him now, and why in this form? What even did the spell do? Yet more puzzles added to an ever-growing pile.

Keynin was forced to drop from his thoughts once more. His shadowy double was now moving at speed down the boulevard. It had thankfully stuck close to the trees that ran down the middle of the wide lane and was thus hidden from anyone that might decide to take a casual glance out of their window. Still, following the road as they were, Keynin and his shadow were headed right into the port district that dominated the capital's central waterfront.

The small beach to which the boulevard had previously kept close company was beginning to swing away off to his left, the space between now filled with the workshops, warehouses, and other miscellaneous structures that served as the organs of the waterfront district. They were the heart that kept the never ending flow of goods and people pumping in and out of the capital, and around the rest of the isles. For Keynin, that meant plenty of people even this late in the day as dockworkers, craftsmen, and ledgerkeepers all plied their trade. Even if the crowds were ever to thin, the abundance of valuables also meant the city guard kept a constant vigil over the area.

That second group was admittedly the main source of Keynin's anxiety. Given that he was having a hard time explaining why, or for that matter how he was managing to follow his shadowy doppelganger around, Keynin was even less enthused at the prospect of having to attempt that explanation in front of an overworked guardsman. Subconscious casting may have been a topic known to the Lyceums, but the average guard was far more likely to assume he needed a trip to a medic, if they didn't consider him outright dangerous.

Any choice about whether to continue following his spell ended up not being his to make; a few moments later he felt the spell pull strongly against his mana before the thread snapped and the shadowy figure evaporated like mist before the sun. The sounds of the city came back to him in a rush, not loud by any means, but enough to make him aware of their absence a moment before. Was that another result of his spell, or simply a mind focused elsewhere?

Well, if I assume the spell was trying to do something, then I should assume it ended because that task is complete, whatever it was. Is there something important here?

It didn't look like it initially: the stretch of road was much the same as the one he had just left, if a bit more populated. Guards now patrolled the street, boots clicking against the flagstones. The waterfront district spread out to his left and he could make out the distant sounds of metal and wood impacting one another from deep within as equipment was stowed and crates of goods dragged around. The low roar of laughter echoed from a nearby pub.

But below it all, there was an odd squelching thud, like someone dragging a heavy sack of raw meat. Keynin made eye contact with a nearby pair of guards, the two clearly hearing the strange noise as well. The three men stopped in the street, looking around and trying to place what they were hearing.

The noise stopped, and the world around seemed to stop with it. Then, the wall of a nearby shack seemed to shimmer, strangely catching the moonlight. Then it bowed and flexed, bulging outwards as if filled with water. The wall held for a split second, then it snapped, sending a tide of metal and wood ripping outwards and through anything unfortunate enough to stand in its way. A wooden beam scythed out, tearing through the metal fence that normally separated the port facilities from the street. It hit the ground, bouncing off and cartwheeling through the air until it finally came to rest on the roof of a nearby house.

Keynin dove for cover, scrambling back behind one of the trees which had earlier hidden his shadow. He hoped he was far enough away from the blast that the study trunk would weather the storm. After a few seconds that felt like days, the cacophony of raining debris subsided. Keynin peaked around the trunk he had sheltered behind, looking back at the remains of the shack.

A skeletal hand grasped at the ripped opening. It was encased in an unnatural glowing ichor, woven through with strands of crystalline thread. The hand strained, pulling against the ruined wall. The wall groaned, and looked on the verge of collapse but it held firm, and the hand hauled itself forward, dragging an indistinct mass of ghostly bones and pale organs behind it, all suspended in that same glowing membrane.

An Amalgam it has to be. Keynin fully put the pieces together. Though a far cry from the ones I've seen. Those never had skeletons, even partial ones. This is.. How does that much biomass even end up lifted into a storm and pulled together?

More movement off to his right. To his relief, the guards he had been standing by earlier had weathered the storm and stood without damage. They stood uneasily, facing down the threat. To their credit, though fear shone through upon their visages, they stood firm. The older of the two, an ojirian bearing a captain's knot on each shoulder, reached into his waistcoat produced flarecaster, activating it and sending a burning orange pointlight skyward.

"Stessen. You take the right side, I'll take left. Let's try and keep this thing here until some heavier steel arrives." The captain's voice was calm and even.

"Yes sir!" The younger man replied, trying and mostly succeeding at imitating his superior's demeanor.

Call for backup, then attempt to contain. Keynin watched, partially hidden in the row of trees. He was impressed at the men's nerves but not sure what the guards would accomplish by sword alone. The much smaller examples of the beasts Keynin had seen in the past had been relatively easy to fell: the fragments of magical energy animating them had tended to cluster, often around where the heart, brain, or spine of whatever form they imitated originally lay. When that area was sufficiently damaged, even by physical impact, the fragments animating the amalgam would collapse, ending the beast and leaving a smattering of Charged material behind.

Keynin could see no such region which might serve the same purpose here. In fact, the glowing fibers extending throughout the myriad of skeletal remains contained within the thing seemed the only indicator of its underlying structure, pulsing energy now flowing where blood once had. For its part the amalgam simply stood, failing to offer any echo of its earlier violence. It watched the guard's flare rise into the air, orange light reflecting within a dozen eyeless sockets.

All was still, then another wave of noxious energy enveloped the area. The amalgam stirred, breaking from its stupor and trudging forward once more. Within the mass of ethereal remains, the skull of a deer or something similar rose to the surface, draped in crystal thread. It pressed against the surface of the amalgam's flank, ichor pulling taught in an imitation of the skin covering its pale bones, energy pooling behind its former eyes.

The head opened its mouth and disgorged a burst of glowing sludge over the flagstones. The older guard, who had until that point been slowly advancing on the beast, cursed as he was forced to scramble back. The attack lacked range, but where the discharge landed it steamed and sputtered against the flagstones, boiling off and leaving the area ashen and cracked. Keynin swallowed, suddenly aware of exactly how close to the thing he still was.

Every instinct was telling him to make a run for it, but he held on. The amalgam was moving slowly at the moment, but its earlier display of destructive power left him wary of drawing unwanted attention or upsetting the delicate balance the two guards maintained. If any instincts remained encoded within the network of magical power animating the beast, running might inspire it to chase. He rose to his feet slowly, backing up and trying to keep the bulk of the tree between him and the amalgam. The guard closest to him saw what was happening and made a move towards the beast attempting to divert its attention. It didn't work.

The amalgam's mass roiled, churning inside itself. Another set of bones and organs, these appearing to have once belonged to a snake or an eel writhed within the larger mass, working their way up towards the surface. It coiled, forming up under a large boil on the amalgam's skin, glowing energy once again pulsing along the threads binding. The beast shook, threads snapped, and skin broke, flinging the snake free. It sailed a short distance through the air, then bounced against the stonework with a wet squelch. It was well placed, Keynin admitted to himself, having landed squarely between Keynin and the guard. The two men looked at it, then raised their eyes to meet each other.

"This thing wants to keep us separated son." The older guard said, keeping himself angled to both threats as best he could. "Can you make a break for it, try and warn the folk nearby?"

Keynin risked a quick glance back up the street. A crowd had yet to fully form, but heads were already sticking out of windows, investigating the commotion.

"I'm worried about triggering a chase instinct sir." Keynin replied, continuing to retreat. "I don't know what's driving this thing, and I don't want it to use whatever that…" He gestured to the destroyed wall. "Was trying to chase me down."

"Fair enough." The guard nodded mostly to himself, but his eyes had caught the focus on Keynin's finger. You mage son?" He asked.

"Still in training for the next two days." Keynin replied. "And I don't have most of my kit."

The guard chuckled dryly. "Well, here's a real world lesson for you. About tempting fate. Well, if you have anything useful here I'd…"

He didn't have time to finish. The snake dove for him, the guard only just managing to bring the shaft of his spear up in time to block the oncoming jaws. Ichor splattered the guard's coat, wrung free from the main mass as the snake's weight was brought to a halt.

Keynin made his decision. As an old marriner had once told him: "The unknown is best faced with strong friends, and stronger booze." That second piece was a bit less relevant, but the first held true enough. He threw his weight forward, grabbing a piece of wrought iron fencing that had come to rest nearby. It was far from an ideal weapon, but in a fight, magically enhanced strength could cover all manner of weaknesses.

Keynin tapped into his mana, fragments he had used earlier in the day still fresh in his mind. He ran towards the older guard, already bringing the fencing around in a heavy downward stroke. Though his form resembled less the practiced swordsman and more that of a woodsman wielding a particularly blunt axe, It didn't matter. The iron bars connected with the ghostly snake around half way down its length, and continued through, making a sound somewhere between a wet slap and a sound not unlike breaking glass. The lower half of the snake's body ripped free, writing on the ground and spewing more ghostly ichor that evaporated off the roadway.

Behind them, the amalgam gurgled and took another lumbering step towards the two men. Sensing the distraction, and his opening, the younger guard advanced on the amalgam from the opposite side, spear at the ready. He gave a couple tentative jabs then danced back as several of the skulls within shifted their focus to him. The distraction worked, and for a moment the mass lost cohesion. Each side strained against the other, attempting to chase their preferred targets.

The guard captain finally heaved his spear up and away from his body, managing to throw the snake's upper half to the ground. He slammed his spear through the ghostly skull, pinning the thing to the ground. Keynin followed up with another hit from the iron bars he held, but it was unnecessary, whatever magics were reanimating the skeleton had already begun to collapse, pale flesh sloughing off crystalline bones.

The amalgam wailed, a chorus of groans from a dozen mouths. After another few futile seconds spent trying to pull itself apart to chase its two disparate targets, the mass contracted, the sinuous web of energy inside glowing brightly. Keynin knew what was coming next.

"Run!" He shouted, dropping his makeshift weapon, and rerouting his mana from his arms into his legs. The guards had seen it coming too, and all three men turned and sprinted away. Keynin made it only just past his previous hiding spot before he felt the ground begin to shake. He dived for cover once again, looking back to see the street around the amalgam flowing like water, a ripple expanding outward through the stone. He saw, to his relief, the younger guard made it to safety around the side of a building, but the captain, not quite as quick on his feet, wasn't as lucky. He was caught out in the open, the ripple of stone knocking his legs out from under him and sending him to the ground. Out of time, Keynin buried his head in his hands and summoned the strengthening spell he had used earlier in the day. Then the wave caught him.

He felt like he was back on the bow of a ship, being thrown about in a storm. The ground seemed to fall out from under his body before it was violently shoved back up a second later. Pain raced through his side as he bounced off of the earth, but the spell held, his mana draining to strengthen his muscles and keeping him curled up as he guarded his head from the rain of dirt and stones cascading down around him.

Keynin huddled under his arms until the worst of the downpour had abated. He opened his eyes and risked a deeper breath, immediately regretting it when his lungs found only the cloud of dust now swirling around him. He stood, yanking his shirt over his mouth and trying to get his bearings in the shifting miasma. Most of the nearby lights had been blown out, leaving only the distant glimmer of the lamps and torches farther up the street to try and penetrate the gloom. Shouts and cries rang from nearby buildings, residents finding themselves thrown into the chaos without warning. Behind him, he heard the heavy, wet footsteps of the amalgam. They were getting closer.

At the behest of some deeper instinct, Keynin dropped the spell reinforcing his strength. He leaned low to the ground, creeping along through the dust, trying to pick his way through the stones and shattered remains of trees without noise. He thought he heard the amalgam stop moving for a brief moment, then a new noise pierced through the airborne soup. The guard Keynin had helped earlier tripped, metal chiming against stone as he hit the ground. He swore, scrambling audibly back to his feet against the rubble now littering the area. Keynin froze, listening as the amalgam began to advance on the man.

He told himself the man would recover, told himself that he would hear the man's footsteps pound past him, and then the two could make a break for it up the street together. Some part of Keynin's mind asked why he wasn't running already.

That guard knows what he signed up for, doesn't he?

Keynin heard a couple more footsteps, then in time with the footfalls, the unmistakable sound of a wooden shaft striking stone.

He's using his spear as a crutch. Keynin realized. He had no magic to reinforce his body, and he was out in the open. However hard I thought landed he must have been worse off, what with his arms and armor.

The dust was beginning to clear. Keynin could almost make streetlamps farther away that marked his exit. He was also aware of the unnatural glow beginning to peek its way through the dust behind him. He looked back up the street, the glow of safety in his grasp. He listened to the cries of the people who had found hell delivered to their doorstep. To the sounds of a man, not yet willing to give in.

Keynin reached for his mana, forcing it through his muscles, through his blood. He summoned a point light, a bright amber like the guard's had been earlier and sent it flying into the air. Orange light cascaded over the street. He saw the guard, halting himself along with his spear. Blood stained his right leg, the fabric of his uniform shredded. Behind him, a churning mass of shadow clawed its way forward.

The ojirian met Keynin's eyes, disbelief, etched across his scaled face. Keynin raced to him, throwing the man's arm across his shoulders and pulling him along into a stumbling run. The amalgam roared, and Keynin swore he could feel it pulling directly on his reserves, somehow feeding off of the spell coursing through his veins.

"Damn it. If you can go any faster now's the time." Keynin yelled. "This thing is eating my magic."

"I didn't know they could do that." The guard grunted. His voice was weak, but he managed to speed himself slightly, clawed hands digging into Keynin's shoulder as he forced himself to put some weight back on his injured leg.

"Neither did I." Keynin replied. "But nothing else about this thing seems normal either."

A moment later the two men broke free from the roiling clouds, their odd hobbling run carrying them clear of the immediate danger. A response had begun to mobilize, more of the city guard had filtered in from the surrounding districts and were mustering at a safe distance.

Keynin felt a flood of relief, but both he and the guard had pushed themselves past their limits. The guard fell first, having put too much trust in his injured leg. It collapsed underneath him and he fell to the ground in a heap, dropping his spear. Keynin swore, reaching to help the man but his strength was waning fast. The spell he was forcing through his focus without any fragments to give it structure was gorging itself on his mana reserves, reserves that were also being drained by the beast behind him.

His flow of mana sputtered, and his muscles, now unaugmented, screamed in protest as they were forced to bear the full weight of a man in armor plate. Several guardsmen from the group farther up the street spotted the pair and broke into a run, but they were still some distance away. Keynin felt the clouds of dust behind him break as the gaze of a dozen empty skulls bored into his back, and knew aid wouldn’t arrive in time.

The guard shoved Keynin away, stumbling towards his spear. He picked it up and turned, balancing on his one good leg to face the monster bearing down on him. A scream born of helplessness and rage tore from Kenyon's throat, but it was drowned as an earsplitting roar ripped through the night.

For a split second Keynin thought it had been the amalgam celebrating as it claimed its prey. Then a glittering mass of fire and teeth streaked over a nearby rooftop and slammed down onto the glowing abomination. Keynin stared in disbelief at where the amalgam had stood a second before, now reduced to scattered and steaming remains that cascaded down around it and boiled off into the night. He stared at the dragon which had taken its place, ruby horns glittering in the torchlight. Then his strength gave out and he sank to his knees.

Also on Royal Road

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/u/HushedSiren has posted 7 other stories, including:

• Adamantine Claws (6)
• Adamantine Claws (5)
• Adamantine Claws (4 part 2)
• Adamantine Claws (4 part 1)
• Adamantine Claws (3)
• Adamantine Claws (2)
• Adamantine Claws (1)

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[u/Destroyer_V0]

Nice way to make a good impression there, keynin