The Third Step: Chapter Fifty-Seven (Patreon)

As soon as I spoke, the entire demeanor of the Craftsman changed. He stretched, popping his back, and I caught a flare of a strange, layered, complex mana that I wasn’t able to identify fully before it vanished. He scrabbled around in his pockets, looking for something, then removed a marble glowing with spatial mana within it. The thing glowed with dense, potent mana, and between my mana senses, my general knowledge of spellforms, and my spatial sense, I was pretty confident that it would teleport me to a predesignated location. 

“Well, that does change things, doesn’t it? You don’t need a soul vessel, you’re still a good way off from being able to make or make use of one, even with that rather unusual beast core of yours.” 

I waved a hand and tore open a portal to the living room, which caused the Craftsman to let out an appreciative ‘ooh’ noise. He reached up to the goggles on his head and pulled them on, examining the portal. He poked one finger at it, then looked up at me. 

“This plane already has a soul of its own. If you were trying to double dip with the shadow realm incorporated into the plane, then you’re out of luck, at least as far as I can tell. As–” 

There was a pressure in the air, then, a familiar one. The power of the Analyst filled the room, crashing over the Craftsman none too gently. The Craftsman made an ‘oof’ noise and fell to the ground before scrambling back up to his feet and looking around. 

“Well, there’s no need to be rude,” he said to the empty air, sounding a bit cross. “He’s not even your apprentice anymore – good choice, by the way, except that it was also a terrible choice, it’s really a matter of perspective – so I don’t even see how this is… oh. Oh! That’s why. Yeah, yeah, I get it. I said I get it! I’m not going to – No, I’m. No! Okay, good. As long as we understand one another.” 

An instant after the conversation that the pair apparently had been having concluded, the power of the Analyst lifted from around us, and the Craftsman’s Title filled the space where it had been, seeming to assert more command over reality. He gestured to the portal and smiled. 

“May I come in?”

I glanced around, mentally reaching out for my familiar. Dusk shot through the crowd, then waved the Craftsman into her realm, saying that she had a good feeling about him. As soon as she’d waved him through, the man took off like a chicken, rushing through her realm and looking around, pausing every few moments to tap his goggles. When he finally neared the house, where Kene, my dad, and Dawn were seated, he froze. He tapped his goggles three times, staring at Dawn, before quickly looking at my dad and dismissing him, then looking at Kene. As soon as he looked over my partner, he paused and nodded, then pushed his goggles off, using them to hold up his garnet, almost gemstone colored hair. 

“Ah. I saw the demiplane with the body in it, so I’m going to assume you’ve got a method to separate the hag out too?” 

“We do,” Meadow said, stepping out from the house. I paused, blinking. Did she have multiple simulacra attending this event? Before I could ask, Meadow raised one hand, displaying a pendant. It was a flat silver disk, covered in runes. They were glowing, but in a silvery color that made it hard to notice. The Craftsman looked at it and took a step back, as if worried that it was a cursed item or something. Meadow smiled, then walked over and handed it to me. 

“One of Silver Tide’s prototype soul-severing amulets," she explained. “It will cut the connection between Kene and the hag. It can sever most bonds, but it’s unstable. If you were to use it now, they would simply recombine, and the current problem wouldn’t be fixed. You should bank on only getting one use out of it.” 

“All this is wonderful and all, but… problem: I don’t have the stuff to build an artificial soul,” the Craftsman said, frowning. “I’m good. I can do it if I have the materials, but I’m fundamentally not a death mage. I need–” 

This time, I was the one to cut him off, raising a hand and summoning the ring that contained the components from the Sekhem Court to give structure to the artificial soul, as well as the formless spark, then extending them to the Craftsman. He was still holding the glowing spatial marble in his hand, apparently having never put it away even when he’d entered Dusk, so he shoved it in his pocket before he took them from me. He ran his mana senses over them both, then nodded. 

“Nevermind.” 

He shoved them both in his pockets, and I wondered if they’d been enchanted. I couldn’t sense any spatial magic woven through it. For that matter, I couldn’t sense any magic in it at all. Not even the marble that he’d just put away. His clothes must have a veiling enchantment too powerful for me to pierce it.

“This is actually an interesting project, thank you,” the Craftsman said, his eyes sparkling as they turned a mix of lilac and yellow. “That said, I was serious about having fifteen orders already in the queue, but you’re calling in a favor from me messing up your trial and it looks like almost killing your partner, sorry about that, I really had no choice over what the reformatted energy was going to be, for all I knew it was just going to be a bunch of puppies and kittens and chocolates, so I’m extending my line to make you the sixteenth–” 

He paused and sucked in some air, having spoken so much in such a short time that he’d gotten out of breath. I sat there, trying to parse what he’d said. My brain tended to work in run-on sentences, but that was extreme, even for me. 

“But that does still mean I have fifteen projects ahead of you. Twelve of them belong to the winners of the top eight of the Arcanist and top four of the Spellbinder division, so I can’t even estimate how long it will take me. But I’ll get it done.”

“After the Tournament, we’re going to a Sepulcher, in order to split the hag out and replace Kene’s legacy,” I said. “Are you able to do it before then?”

“I should be able to. And if not, I’ll get it to you on the way. I keep track of those buggers. With the amount of weird stuff pulled from them that I get to examine? Of course I do! Here, take this.” 

Once again, he patted around in his pockets for a shockingly long time before pulling out a braided loop of cord. It was enchanted with knowledge and abnegation mana, and as I took it, the Craftsman started to explain. 

“That will bond to you and let you find my workshop. Don’t get too excited, it’s not a growth item, and it provides no additional powers. But also don’t get too worried about the spiritual pressure, it’ll detach as soon as I don’t want you to get there anymore. It should bond any second now. Any second? Any… huh. It’s not taking?” 

He frowned and squinted at me, then slid his goggles back on. This time, when they started to glow, I could feel a surge of death mana rolling out of them – sixth gate, at least, with several additional supplemental knowledge spells around it. As he read through whatever output there was, he chatted casually. 

“Most people don’t actually bring their soulbonds or spiritbonds to the saturation point. Pushing over that point is dangerous, perhaps even deadly. Even someone with two growth items and a grand array should be able to take on a tiny bond like that one. But you can’t. You’re also not dead or experiencing injury…” 

He flickered one of his hands, as if he was taking notes on an invisible paper. 

“Did Orykson do this? It looks incredibly dangerous, and I’d say it’s not a stable state to be in, but you’re very clearly not experiencing any ill effects. Pre-extant to soul mana as well. That’s odd. If you weren’t so weak and non-knowledge mage, I’d almost think you were casting three Words of Power at once, and had granted yourself temporary access to three Nascent Truths. But they’re permanently embedded. Like a parasite. Can I see your staff?” 

I looked at Meadow, who gave me a nod that it was okay, and I withdrew the staff from my spirit. He studied the sleek black metal and rotating crystals, the form that the staff had taken ever since it had connected to me. The Craftsman let out another ‘ooh’ sound and grabbed it, then spun it in his hand and wandered away. 

“Bring it back before the tournament starts tomorrow,” Meadow said firmly, and the Craftsman looked up. 

“Right. Yeah. Oh. Uh. Hmm. Here, I’ll bring it back in the morning with the enchantment to see my workshop temporarily incorporated into it, with a reset to wipe the enchantment clean. That’ll be a pain. But I’m good to my word and a fair person, or at least I try to be…” 

He trailed off, muttering under his breath, and Meadow looked over at us, a tired look on her face. 

“If he discovers anything that can be reproduced from it, he’ll cut you in on any of the profits during the period you can hold it before the library gets uppity. He’s done it before, when studying people or things.” 

“Huh? Yeah. If I find out a design that can be used to make something out of your stuf, I’ll cut you in on it,” the Craftsman said, looking up, before looking down and starting to mutter again. “I’d love to find a way to even partially reproduce this effect. I wonder if it would be possible by paring down…” 

From there, the Craftsman devolved into technical language, where I could understand only one word in three, and even then, they didn’t make sense out of context. Sometimes, even if I understood an entire string of them, they still didn’t make sense. Like what did ‘anti-negative spin of resonating esoterica’ even mean? And was there a point in not just saying positive? I had no idea. 

After walking headfirst into a tree, the Craftsman pulled the marble out again, crushed it, and vanished. 

“What an odd man,” my father remarked. I jumped, almost having forgotten that he was here. 

“He’s either bored or focused, and has very little in between,” Meadow said, smiling, but sadly. “He’s gotten worse. Immortal dissociation. He’s only been immortal for forty years, but it’s remarkable how fast that can lead to everyone you know leaving you.” 

There was a moment of silence after that, before Kene spoke up. 

“Thank you again. If Meadow vouches for him, and he says he can do it, then I believe him, even if he’s a bit off. But, if you’re done with the party…” 

“Let’s relax,” I agreed, smiling and letting out a slow breath. “Does anyone want some cake? I can probably teleport it off one of the trays?” 

And so, as the night before the first match of the Elysian Mastery Tournament began, and as Meadow’s other simulacra brought my grandmother and Kene’s in, we held our own, much smaller, much less raucous party, before I passed out for the night.