Silhouette

James ducked below the fireball that flew right at his face.

"You know, this isn't exactly how I pictured these magic lessons."

Mesker Duskenfer the Third, great pyromancer and demonologist, merely shrugged as another volley of burning projectiles launched, forcing James to melt and spread and shift his form to avoid them.

"First lesson when it comes to magic, don't get hit by it. You'd be surprised how many people fail that step."

This time a column of flame rose from the darkened ground of the Sunken City, illuminating the small square the two men had turned into their training ground. The blazing pillar drew in powerful winds, forcing James to fight against the suction while still evading the firey projectiles thrown his way. That wasn't to say all he could was run. Black orbs rose from the surrounding shadows and snaked their way toward the wizard, zigzagging around the flaming defenses he had cast. The old man responded with a wave of golden fire that turned the dark attacks to nothing.

"I see you've improved your multitasking. Good."

The pyromancer went on to tap the bottom of his golden staff on the ground, bringing forth a bear of smoke and embers. Despite its threatening red claws, the ursine creature was dispelled by a single Shadow Ball, much like it had when Mesker had first shown it off to James when he trained him on how to fight Runar. Well, James had been fighting using Solvent's body, but the result was the same.

"And you remembered my Sylversfire. Good."

Another tap and this time more forest critters of all kinds formed, their purple eyes glowing ominously and with much more power than their previous iteration. James answered in kind, shifting his body to form giant black snakes that constricted the elemental-like summons into puffing out of existence in seconds. He might have been playing nice when using them against the ratlings in training, but now, the gloves were off.

"Pardon me Mesker, but I was hoping for proper lessons, not combat."

A dark mist rose from Mesker's feet, a thin tendril having sneaked its way to the mage who had purposefully placed his flames to avoid forming a shadow. When the mage jumped back it was just in time to avoid the swing of the blade of an ephemeral dark knight. The extension of James' will raised its shield to block a fireball before stepping forward, slashing its sword wildly at the retreating demonologist.

"Ah, but combat is a great teacher. Not the greatest, mind you, but still. For instance, I see you learned quite a bit from Runar."

This time the flames that came after the knight were golden. Instead of impacting the shield, they collided against a barrier emanating from it. The mage hummed at the sight before adding purple fire into the mix, this time the inferno overwhelming the protection. James had predicted this and had diverged as much of this part of his mass away as he could, leaving only the shield and a thin tentacle behind to be burned away.

That's not to say the mist was gone. The black smog had moved along with the mage, chasing him as more knights emerged only to be struck down, each armored shadow getting a little closer at every attempt. Finally came the swing of a blade Mesker couldn't avoid and had to block with his staff before disappearing into a burst of flames, reappearing further away. Free from the encroaching darkness, he was free to invoke once more. Light and heat spread throughout the area as more and more fires formed, a forest of scorching columns surrounding the man.

"This didn't seem quite like a normal magical shield. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd say it was a runic barrier."

James had the humanoid part of his body mimic a shrug with its pointy armless shoulders while his immaterial mass continued to spread, slithering between the flames and fighting off incoming projectiles with his own.

"A little something I came up with when facing the man. I may not be an expert in runes, but the book you lent me taught me quite a bit. When fighting I had to recycle some of his weaponry to counter his abilities. Essentially repairing a Runebreaker on the fly gave me an idea I wasn't free to explore at the time but proved itself quite useful at the instant. It's remarkable what shapeshifting can do, no?"

The demonologist grunted as he flicked his wrist, instructing his so far immobile blazing pillars to begin revolving around him, cutting off large swathes of James right as he was about to reach him. He had predicted the move, however, and quickly a gaseous part of him swept across the fire forest, reconnecting the lost parts and transforming them into masses of claws and fangs that rose high to crush the mage beneath them.

It was easy for the pyromancer to turn them to ashes, but it was exactly the plan. As infernal forces burned away at his expanded body, buried beneath the dangerous and eye-catching parts, runes formed from solidified parts of himself aligned to form a ritual. Translucent yet dark shackles came from the ether to ensnare the old man, infinite lengths that kept on pouring into reality no matter how many times the wizard burned them.

With a quick shift new runes were formed and created a new circle, this one summoning forth gravity-defying tar that squelched its way out of the way and into the air, bubbling and pulsing to take on a rough draconic form, the fake reptilian terror roaring a cacophonous storm with its wings raised before swooping down at the old human man, strands of its viscous body connecting its jaws even as it opened them wide to bite.

Fire erupted and began to crawl over its frame yet somehow failed to consume the beast. Right as it was about to crush Mesker he burst into flames once more, reappearing at a safe distance with a quick wall of fire raised in seconds to protect him from whatever the runic ritual would do next. The dragon crashed against the ground and popped, its burning spots drawing arcs in the air while the vast majority of its body appeared to boil. When the tar took form once again, it was no mere creature standing there.

It was Silhouette.

"Taking advantage of your physiology to use runes on the spot is a good strategy. Not fully original, mind you, there are quite a few orders that make use of Living Ink tattoos for the same purpose, but still undeniably effective. Though, while I recognize a binding enchantment, that construct seemed a little complex for what I lent you."

"I admit, it was more innate power than spellwork."

The original ritual only summoned some sort of slime. Tainted by James' natural darkness affinity, it turned into this tar-like matter with no mind, only a sort of instinctual drive to envelop whatever it was touching. Its lack of life was actually capital to the next step James had come up with: experimentation had shown that what composed his body was extremely malleable, in the sense that he could incorporate surrounding shadows into his form with no issue. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize that many of his shapeshifting tricks used more mass than he should be composed of, even when altering his density. He'd struggled to form a skittering body when he first appeared in this world, and yet here he was, keeping his Silhouette body out while at the same spreading like a plague and summoning knights like finger puppets.

This increased mass didn't just vanish when he was done using it after all. It stayed with him. At this point, both his Silhouette and civilian forms were like icebergs, with the visible physical part only being a small part of a far larger whole, hidden in his shadow. He was very thankful this transmuted part of himself weighed nothing. He wasn't a fitness nut, but getting heavier by at the very least a factor of ten would still trouble him. It'd be very humiliating to break through a weak floor in the middle of a discussion, after all.

The tar dragon was thus simple when broken down. James summoned the material, touched it, and turned it into a part of himself before sculpting it into a more threatening shape. That wasn't to say it was all just for show, otherwise, James would just use himself to do all this rather than a runic ritual. The conjured tar was, for lack of a better word to his limited knowledge, magically charged and reinforced. It was stronger than James' natural mass, but it also had its faults, such as being highly flammable. Why then did it resist Mesker's attack? The answer was simple.

"You merged yourself with summoned material to combine your strengths and mitigate your respective flaws. Clever. Prone to disaster when faced with an opponent capable of dismissing or banishing magical creations such as this, but clever nonetheless."

"I had an inkling it could be undone in such a way. The merge isn't complete, it is still isolated from the rest of myself. At worst, I'll lose only a small part of me that would have been destroyed by a spell anyway."

"Good. Empowering yourself using magic is one thing, but empowering magic using yourself or completely becoming one with it is another. At the end of the day we are still but mortals, and thinking otherwise is foolish. There is a reason most originally human undead don't last longer than a century or two before losing their mind. We simply weren't meant to. Inversely, what many consider to be greater entities would be rendered insane by experiencing human life. There's a reason it's a common punishment for gods and their likes."

"I will keep this in mind. By the way, should this signify the end of this little bout? I would like to remind you that I'm here in search of advice for my spellcasting, not its usage in battle. Not yet, at least."

The pyromancer chuckled.

"No, not quite."

The revolving pillars of flame accelerated and their movements grew more complex than simply drawing an orbit around the mage, some forming waves, others turning in the opposite direction the others did, and a few more clearly displaying some targeting ability by positioning themselves to surround the visible part of James.

James held back the urge to groan. He twisted his body, transforming into a black fog that rolled over the landscape, his gaseous form dexterously parting and merging to slip by the burning obstacles. More forest critters of hot ashes and smoke appeared only to be struck down by disembodied jaws that turned back to shadows before they could be struck. A rising wave of liquid darkness began to grow, and though smaller than the blazing columns it still soon stood taller than the surrounding abandoned buildings. Mesker flicked his wrist and sent forth fireballs and infernal spikes into the incoming abyssal tsunami only for his spells to be intercepted by splashes that separated themselves from the wave.

The regular projectiles proving ineffective, the demonologist weaved together a more extreme spell with his black hands, his staff turning into embers around. Golden and purple flames danced together in an impossible sight, a fire that no natural circumstances could manifest, behaving not as a raging force but as cooperating serpents twisting together to form sigils. The spiraling knot of colors and heat unleashed itself in a powerful beam, burning away at the wave of shadows and pushing it back.

The old mage however couldn't hide the surprise on his face as the darkness began to fight back. Its top turned and began to snake its way around the beam as its body continued resisting. The man could feel the air grow cold and wet with every passing second and soon noticed the way black ice began to spread and crackle on the ground.

At that point he separated his arms, splitting the beam into two new smaller ones that he aimed in opposite directions.

The act cut the encroaching darkness. Its upper part collapsed onto the lower one, further falling apart until it became nothing more than a puddle on the floor. Silhouette quickly emerged from it, ink-like material dripping down the pointy shoulders. Noticing the lack of fire being thrown at his face, James had a feeling the spar was over. Mesker's silently clapping figure reinforced that idea.

"I can't say that was very pleasant."

"It's not supposed to be. Especially given the fact you have some form of demonic ancestry."

"I suppose that means that last trick relied on some sort of exorcism."

"Correct. Those were the golden flames. The purple ones come from demonism. The combination proves quite effective against unwelcomed guests to our side of reality. More importantly, I see you brushed on elementalism. Good. Though I can't help but notice a common flaw."

"I can't avoid incorporating darkness into it."

"Well, that is a downside, but one you can get around with some clever planning. No, the main problem here is you still overly rely on your body. I understand your unique physiology is an advantage in many ways. However, shenanigans like that massive mass at the end are just making you a bigger target. Even with magical matter incorporated into your body, getting blown up isn't good."

"As you've said, it's an advantage. I can do things I believe no one else can, and it has been my best chance at survival so far."

"A vagrant raised in the slums may learn how to fight off the gruff, but against anyone with experience, they would lose. Yes, you have proven good enough to vanquish your enemies so far, but they were all rabid dogs. Runar was the most skilled opponent you faced, but he was a non-combatant."

"What of Sydakors?"

"Demons are a messy bunch. The majority rely on pure power alone, those that climb to the top have the brains and experience to match. The forgotten diplomat was stronger than average for a 'citizen' if such a term could be used. But think back to that encounter: was it truly a battle, or did a much faster and deadly opponent play with you until it left an opening you took advantage of?"

"You're comparing me to it, aren't you."

"Can you rebut my point? You rely on your innate admittedly impressive abilities to overwhelm your enemies, but there's no skill behind it. That tactic with the runes was good and elementalism does expand your portfolio of possible tricks, but you have yet to successfully combine those tricks into a more defined and dangerous fighting style."

"Hence the fight."

"I had to see how you manage your spellwork in a real situation. Now that I have seen your failings, I know what you need. More advanced spells would help, but it'd just be pouring water into a cracked vase. We're going to rebuild your entire foundation. It won't be done in a day, but when we're through, you won't just be flailing your tentacles anymore."

It was hard to tell through the wrinkles, but James had a feeling there was the beginning of a smile on the old wizard's face.