Morph dashed through the woods, pouring all of his focus into Biomancy as he tried to fix the damage. His lack of practice and knowledge showed. The pain faded, but whatever he did reduced mobility and flexibility in the area by half.

Temperatures dropped the further Morph wandered from the settlement. Thickening foliage blocked out all sunlight, leaving the world darker. It was perfect. Morph called forth Shade’s Mantle before casting Silencing Shadows and Shadow Sight, and then stopped running. Much to his surprise, Biomancy had additional benefits. Sprinting at high mass drained Morph’s stamina rapidly. He recovered in almost no time.

Breathing slowed. Panting ceased. The clone had no trouble centering himself. It seemed the Body ability hadn’t just given him more than the ability to modify his body.

Do I also have control over my bodily functions?

When Morph willed it, all sound disappeared. His ears had stopped functioning. Next, he reactivated the sense and switched off his sense of smell instead. His heart rate increased at a thought and calmed again. As the pursuer's footsteps got closer, he ceased the experimentation and developed his first natural weapon.

Claws were the most obvious choice, but they lacked the necessary range. Morph needed something more. He, El-Prime, and the other clones didn’t know much about human anatomy or biology beyond what high-school textbooks had to say. However, thanks to the Elvises, he knew plenty about weapons. He modified bone and muscle, twisting, lengthening, and flattening to double the length of his forearm and turn it into a single-edged blade. A mantis blade would’ve been better, but Morph lacked the time and confidence to pull off something of the sort in time.

Almost as if on cue, Morph’s pursuers caught up. He settled for coating his other forearm in bone plating. Spikes followed. It came at a cost of finger dexterity, but it didn’t feel like a priority.

A pursuer paused by the hiding place. Her eyes swept over their surroundings while the male half of the duo pushed onward, continuing further into the dense pines. It seemed neither of the pair was particularly skilled at tracking. Instead of sticking the blade through her throat, Morph took a more restrained approach. El-Primme wanted to avoid needless fatalities, after all. He wished to walk a new path.

Storm energy flowed from Morph’s heart down his right arm, transforming into lightning magic along the way. He snuck up behind the woman and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing just enough to close her airways but not crush anything. Morph only wished to silence her, after all. The lightning flowed through his fingertips into her flesh.

The woman spasmed, thrashing in his hold. He hoped the voltage wasn’t high enough to kill her. It was only a trickle of energy from the passive effect of a tier-one ability. He was sure the woman’s Body Pillar had ascended to at least tier-three. She moved and looked as such. When her struggling didn’t cease, and it seemed that she might overpower Morph, he poured more energy into the impromptu attack. A well-formulated Touch Spell would’ve likely proven more potent. Much to his relief, she went limp within fifteen seconds of their struggle. He gently lowered her to the ground before moving onward.

Thanks to the dense foliage above, darkness surrounded Morph. He didn’t need to seek shadowed spots and followed the second man pursuing him. What concerned him most was the sound of other people in the woods. It seemed the warehouse’s guards had called for backup before coming after him.

I can’t just keep running deeper into the woods. El-Prime will leave without me if I get lost.

Morph tightly held the stolen furnace under his right arm, closing in on his target. He had hoped to take things slow and not fatally attack someone, but he didn’t have many other options. It seemed fortune favored him.

A mass of fur and feathers dropped from above. The man crumpled like a tin can under him. Claws rended flesh, and a hooked beak dug into internal organs without hesitation. It was a swift death, marked only by the sounds of breaking bones.

It made more sense to keep moving, but the clone sensed a strong arcane signature radiating from the monster. Greed won in the end. The remaining pursuers were still far away. Nerves and blood vessels running down the bone blade glowed bright blue, and lightning tendrils leaked through them. He was glad Silencing Shadows muted the crackling, or the creature would’ve seen him coming.

“Bryna,” he whispered, sharpening the bone blade before plunging into the back of the owlbear’s head. It died almost straight away. Morph didn’t stop there. He absorbed all the biomass his body could. The familiar sensation of the related ability gaining another ability followed.

The clone closed his eyes and imagined precisely what he needed. Pain followed, but he gritted his teeth through the discomfort. When he opened his eyes again, he found his old arms lying on the ground, looking like ugly weapons of flesh and bone. A pair of steaming limbs hung from his shoulders in their place. Morph hadn’t tried guiding the growth so much as imagined what El-Prime looked like naked, and willed his body to return to the same form. When he moved, hair fell out of his sleeves and pant legs. Morph felt his face shift to but stopped it just in time. It felt crooked and twisted, but was unlikely to still match El-Prime.

Compressed biomass filled the clone, making him even heavier than the peak high mass form, but he didn’t mind. Morph didn’t need to move swiftly now. Silencing Shadows would keep him concealed. He grabbed the essence sphere that had fallen out of the owl bear’s remains before returning the way he had come.

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The latest version of the enhanced Haste spell increased his speed as he jogged straight toward the approaching mass of metal and fur-covered reinforcements. The thick foliage above kept snow from gathering on the forest floor. He stuck to the bald patches, avoiding leaving a trail. He passed the mass of fighters unnoticed. Not even the magic-radiating, staff-wielder among them sensed Morph.

I need to get to El-Prime before he starts toward the Gray.

_________________

Where the fuck is Morph?

Lukas considered dispelling the clone as he watched Penelope animatedly talk to a pair of women. They wore snow-white furs and leathers of far better quality than the locals. Their outfits, along with the vehicles behind them, almost blended into the snow. Workers in worse but similarly colored or grey clothing loaded the carts and wagons. A few tended to the giant woolly bovines attached to them. Departure was near, and the clone hadn’t reported at the designated time.

The journal vibrated again. Lukas had initially ignored it, worried the soulbound object would thrust a quest upon him. But now, as he anxiously tapped his foot waiting for Morph, he couldn’t help himself.

Biomancy has progressed to Rank 2!

Your instinctual understanding of your anatomy has improved.

Biomancy has progressed to Rank 3!

Your control over your anatomy has improved.

Biomancy has progressed to Rank 4!

Your ability to contain excess biomass without increasing body weight has improved.

It was clear that Morph was having an exciting time wherever he was. He saw people running around on the distant edge of the settlement where a cluster of tall stone buildings stood. Lukas believed it was the storage area. Some of the people looked like concerned workers, while the rest wore heavy armor and carried weapons.

“Everything okay?” Bass asked, strolling over. He was cat-sized again, and the folded wings almost blended into his now extra-shaggy fur.

“Morph is late,” Lukas answered. “He was supposed to report at the depot half an hour ago.”

“Things look busy down there. Is it possible he got caught?”

“The clones know to dispel themselves if that’s ever a danger. I’m sure he’s on the run and is maybe trying to make his way back to me.”

“And you’re sure he has whatever was in the crates?”

Lukas nodded. “He would’ve dispelled himself otherwise. I have a clone scouting the perimeter. Hopefully, he won’t be long. I don’t want to abandon whatever goodies he nabbed.”

“You might not have a choice,” Bass stated. His eyes drifted to the caravan and the assembling guards. “They’ll be done any second now, and then we’re going to set off. Penny has already negotiated our passage.”

“How much is it costing us?”

“Nothing.” The familiar flashed a feline grin. “Penny is an excellent negotiator. One of the escort parties dropped out for a better opportunity. We’re filling in.” He paused, looking Lukas up and down. “More specifically, Penny is filling in as the Cold Fire Sorcerer. We are her support staff and entourage. You’re her inexperienced, wide-eyed, good-for-nothing apprentice. Shae is an extra porter. I’m the party’s mascot. Just don’t do anything to jeopardize this opportunity.”

“So are they paying us?” Lukas asked.

“We’re getting paid in favors. The merchant will be feeding us, providing camping equipment, and putting us up for two weeks in the Gray. The caravan owners have significant real estate and a couple of inns. They’re a valuable contact.” The familiar looked Lukas up and down. “I don’t think you’re dressed for this journey. You’re underestimating the cold. That cloak and the boot chains aren’t enough. Are you counting on Penny to keep you warm?”

Lukas shook his head. He pulled on a pair of gloves stolen off a random store’s work counter before retrieving a magic metal billet from his coat’s inner pocket. It was scalding to the touch. “It’s almost sweltering under here. As long as I feed it lightning every now and again, I won’t freeze to death. I just need to ensure this doesn’t tear and the waterproofing holds.”

The familiar’s nose twitched, and he carefully raised a paw and swatted at the piece of steel. After the first couple of touches, Bass held on for several seconds. He then yowled before leaping away.

“You’re playing with fire, Lukas.”

“Don’t you mean ice?”

“You won’t be joking when a blizzard hits or we get into a fight, and that thing gets damaged,” Bass stated.

Lukas stiffened, eyes shooting toward the woods near all of the commotion.

“Everything okay?”

“Morph just dispelled himself.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good.” Lukas smiled. “He succeeded. El-Two has his loot.” He laughed. “Morph killed a drop bear.”

“Didn’t you send him out with no weapons?” Penelope asked, joining them. Shae worked briskly in the distance, moving her luggage.

A pair of golden wisps floated around her, radiating heat. It looked like a simple spell that someone of her caliber would likely have little effort and magic to sustain. He had heard the landscape also contained several patches devoid of magic, explaining the multiple carts carrying spirits and firewood.

“Morph can shape his limbs into killing tools. Why would I give him weapons?”

“Aren’t you overconfident?” Penelope chuckled. “You can trust the clone to get you whatever Morph took?”

Lukas nodded.

“Then let’s get in the carriage. They’re setting off.”

“They are?” Lukas raised an eyebrow. “Most of the caravan doesn’t look ready.”

“We’re already behind schedule, and the rest will catch up,” said Penelope. “Our generous hosts want to get as far as possible before nightfall. If they set up camp, the stragglers won’t have as much work when they catch up.”

“I thought the point of a caravan was safety in numbers. Why are we splitting up?”

Penelope shrugged. “They claim things are relatively safe near the coast. Things will get more dangerous the further we get from the settlement and peak once the mountains are in view. Or so they claim.”

“Excuse me, Mr Zaun,” interrupted a bearded man. He handed Lukas a wrapped cube slightly bigger than his skull. A hammer and an essence sphere sat on top. “I apologize for the wait. Finding weatherproof wrapping for your purchases was more challenging than we expected.”

“Thank you,” Lukas replied, accepting the package. Penelope rolled her eyes and started toward the carriage. Her familiar followed, and Lukas did so as well.

“What, no tip? Just the tip?”

“Fuck off.”