Shadows Over Arcadia

I am Ren Drakemore, age 8, the unwanted prince of Arcadia. However, one day, I will be king.

I sit in my workshop, flipping through the final pages of Advanced Techniques in Golemancy, but my mind is far from the text. Lady Willow's words echo in my thoughts.

"If you want to change the kingdom, Ren, you must act in ways that cannot be traced back to you."

At the time, I hadn't grasped her meaning. Now, after recent events, it is painfully clear. I need a way to act beyond the castle without exposing myself. With my father ordering the nobility to block me at every turn and Fobos watching and interfering in all I do, I am stifled.

But I have found a solution to all my problems.

What if I create a separate identity? One that could move freely through the kingdom, build a reputation, and achieve everything I need without anyone tracing it back to me?

My bodyguard puppet is ideal for this. Designed to protect me, its usefulness has grown with the reach of my mental link. It can now operate far beyond the castle walls, even miles into the city. Through it, I can work with allies, confront enemies, and gather information while remaining safely anonymous. Best of all, my puppets are disposable. They cannot die, and I risk nothing.

The first step is to register the puppet at the Adventurer's Guild. That will give it a legitimate identity and allow it to take quests. Those quests will bring in money and, more importantly, provide real-world combat experience. My encounter with the dreadcoil proved how much I still don't understand about this world. If I want to defeat my father and his allies, I need to learn how to fight and survive in real battles.

Next comes a name. Since I plan to use the puppet in the shadows… Shadow feels fitting. Is it too corny? No, it's cool and mysterious. Adventurers often go by code names, so no one will think twice about it.

I stand, gazing at my puppet propped on its rack. "What do you think, buddy? Do you like the name Shadow?"

The puppet doesn't answer, of course.

I place my hand on its chest and cast the mind transfer spell. The puppet jerks upright, pulling free from the stand, and faces me.

"What do you think of the name Shadow?" I ask again.

A voice emanates from the mask, magically produced despite the lack of a mouth. "Since I am you, and you like the name, I think you already know I approve."

Shadow tilts his head from side to side, then rolls each joint in turn, testing his range of motion.

"What's it like, Shadow?" I ask.

"It's a little strange hearing myself call me Shadow," he says evenly. "Mobility feels good. It's just… odd not being able to feel anything."

"You can't feel anything at all?" I ask. "That makes sense, I suppose."

"No. Nothing I touch, not even my own weight," Shadow says. "It's a very strange sensation."

I nod, intrigued by the insight. "Do you have any questions about the plan for registering as an adventurer?"

"There is one thing," Shadow replies thoughtfully. "You need to be fifteen to register. We're a bit too short to pass for that."

He's right. At eight years old, I'm far shorter than the average fifteen-year-old, and I built Shadow to match my height.

"How much taller do we need to make you?" I ask.

"I'm not sure," Shadow says with a shrug. "We don't know any fifteen-year-olds. Maybe six inches?"

"That's as good a guess as any." I shrug back.

A white light shimmers through the weave of his clothes as Shadow casts a spell to alter his wooden body. The cuffs of his sleeves and the hems of his trousers seem to recede as his limbs stretch with a rapid crackling and popping sound. He looks down at me from his new angle, then at his sleeves. Balling his fists, the light flares again, this time emanating from his clothes as the sleeves and pant legs lengthen to cover him once more.

"There's also your voice," I add. "You sound like me. You'll need to sound older."

Shadow pauses, adjusting his vocalization spell. "How about this?" he asks, his voice much deeper.

"That's a little sinister," I remark.

"And this?"

"Perfect. Older, but not too old."

"Next, you need to make yourself taller and match your voice to mine," Shadow says, gesturing toward me.

"Right. I'll have to be the one who registers at the guild since registration requires blood," I reply. "And you don't have any."

I focus my mana and cast two spells. One to temporarily lengthen my limbs, the other to change my voice. A green glow flashes over my arms and legs, its touch bringing an uncomfortable, sharp prickling. The world seems to sink away from me slightly, leaving me momentarily disoriented. The spell is brief and the change rapid, but a dull ache lingers in my newly stretched bones.

I sigh in relief as Lady Willow reaches the bottom of the staircase and joins us. I've practiced this spell many times under her supervision, with only minor adjustments. I was confident I could manage it, yet it's still a relief to see it succeed.

"Hello, Lady Willow. I'm heading out for a little while," I say, testing my new, deeper voice.

Willow raises an eyebrow with an amused smile. "Oh wow, they grow up so fast."

"Humans or children?" Shadow asks, deadpan.

"Is there a difference?" Willow replies lightly, watching as I don an identical set of clothes and armor. "Go straight to the Adventurer's Guild and back, nowhere else. Use the hidden entrance because the main one is likely being watched. And most importantly, be careful."

"Yeah, be careful," Shadow echoes, flopping onto the couch. "We'll be here waiting for you."

With a cheerful "goodbye," I put on the mask, completing the ensemble, and descend the staircase into the basement where the secret entrance lies hidden. Through a door concealed in an old wooden wardrobe, I step into a long stone corridor that ends at a magically sealed doorway. A wave of my hand makes the stone shift, opening onto the base of the castle's outer wall, overgrown with shrubs. When I close it behind me, the doorway vanishes into solid stone.

I make my way to the Adventurer's Guild on the main market road. The moment I step into the bustling hall, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations quiet, and heads turn toward me, expressions ranging from puzzled to mocking. My hood and mask may hide my identity, but they make me anything but inconspicuous.

As I move deeper into the hall, I catch muttered comments: "Who's the freak in the mask?" and "Who the hell does this shrimp think he is?" Laughter follows, with several adventurers whispering and snickering about my height.

Clearly, adding six inches wasn't enough.

I force myself to ignore the barrage of stares and snide remarks as I make my way to the receptionist's desk. Unease gnaws at me, but I focus on the task at hand. I step into line behind a young girl with shoulder-length blond hair, dressed in light armor and tight-fitting clothes that cling to her slim frame. A tear in her right pant leg exposes a poorly bandaged wound, the blood-soaked dressing making it obvious she is in bad shape. She looks pale, unsteady on her feet, and nervous.

"Here are the horned rabbit pelts for my quest, ma'am," she says softly, placing a bundle of pelts and a quest form onto the counter. Her voice trembles with exhaustion and pain.

Her injured leg shakes as she stands, and her eyes dart nervously toward the receptionist. The receptionist leans over to inspect the quest form, then carefully counts the pelts.

"Sorry, Miss Maribel," the receptionist says with an apologetic look. "This quest requires ten horned rabbit pelts, but there are only nine here."

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"One of the rabbits got my leg pretty good," Maribel pleads, her voice tinged with desperation. "Can't you just pay me for the nine pelts so I can get a potion? Please?"

The receptionist's expression softens, but she shakes her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, but I can't pay for partial completion of a quest. It's against the rules."

I understand her position. Quest terms are set by their originators, wealthy benefactors like lords, merchants, or even the king. The receptionist doesn't have the authority to bend the rules.

"Please, ma'am," Maribel says again, her voice cracking. "I can't finish the quest with my leg like this."

Before the receptionist can respond, a large, rough-looking adventurer rises from a nearby table where he has been drinking with his companions. The strong stench of honeyed wine reaches me as he steps closer, a twisted smile curling his lips.

"I can give you the silver you need for a potion, little lady," he says, his voice smooth yet menacing. "You can pay me back the same way you did before."

The room seems to grow colder as he approaches. The predatory gleam in his eyes and the way his gaze rakes over her makes my skin crawl. He's a lion stalking prey, and Maribel's reaction confirms it. Her face drains of color, and she refuses to meet his eyes, terror etched into every feature.

This is wrong. I don't know exactly what's happening, but I know I need to step in.

"Here," I say, pulling a potion from my pouch and holding it out to her. "You can have this for free."

Maribel turns toward me, wide-eyed with disbelief. "Are you sure? You don't want anything in return?" she asks hesitantly.

"It's yours. You owe me nothing," I say calmly, placing the potion in her hand.

"Hey, you little brat!" the man growls, his glare fixed on me as he steps closer. "Butt out of our business!"

Maribel wastes no time. "Thank you, sir," she says quickly, pulling the stopper from the small glass vial. She raises it to her lips and drinks. A faint green glow spreads over her wounds as the deep gash on her leg and the smaller scratches across her body knit shut in an instant.

"It looks like she won't need your money," I say evenly, keeping my voice calm as I silently prepared a defensive spell.

I barely finish speaking before the brute lunges, his fist flying toward my face with inhuman speed. My thought acceleration spell is the only reason I even register the movement. Luckily, I had already cast a barrier in anticipation, and his punch slams into it, rebounding with a sickening crack.

"Ouch," I remark smugly, watching him clutch his hand in pain. "Sounds like you broke something, sir. You might want to get yourself a potion."

"You bastard!" the man roars, his face twisted in fury. His right hand hangs grotesquely, several fingers bent at unnatural angles. With his uninjured left, he reaches for the sword on his belt.

"Enough!" barks the surly woman behind the receptionist's counter. "Bram! There will be no fighting among adventurers, and no fighting in the guild! One more move, and your registration will be revoked!"

Bram freezes, his bloodthirsty glare still locked on me. His hand lingers on the hilt, but after a tense moment, he lets it fall and cradles his broken fingers instead.

"Relax, lady. We were just talking," Bram mutters, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He turns and stalks back to his table, his companions' laughter cutting through the heavy silence that follows.

I watch him retreat, noting the lingering menace in his posture. I am not sure if adventurers are always this hostile or if Bram's aggression is fueled by excessive alcohol. What I am sure of is that he is a scumbag. Maribel's unsettled expression confirms it.

"Thank you again... ah, what was your name?" Maribel asks sheepishly as she gathers her incomplete quest materials and steps out of line.

"I am Shadow. Nice to meet you, Maribel, was it?" I reply.

"Thank you, Mr. Shadow," she says with a shy smile before heading toward the quest bulletin boards on the right side of the guild hall.

I step up to the desk, where the receptionist gives me a once-over. "And what can I do for you, kid?" she asks, her tone laced with mild skepticism. She is classically pretty, and her conservative uniform complements her sharp features. Under different circumstances, I might like her more, if she wasn't looking at me with a mix of suspicion and boredom.

"I'm here to register," I say, forcing the irritation out of my voice.

Sure, I am a kid, but it irks me to be called one nonetheless.

The receptionist raises a brow, clearly unconvinced. "Are you even... fifteen?" she asks.

Damn it. I should have made myself taller!

I'd spent so much time perfecting my disguise, but I underestimated how tall a fifteen-year-old should be. Having no real experience with kids of any age, my guess had been way off.

Recovering quickly, I nod. "Yes, I'm fifteen." The truth isn't important here. It's not like she could prove otherwise.

She sighs and slides a registration form across the counter. "All right. You'll need a name. We use blood samples to register and avoid duplicate entries. Once you choose a name, you're stuck with it."

I pause briefly, then write Shadow on the line.

No turning back now. Shadow is now my alter ego. I hope I don't regret this later.

"'Shadow,' huh?" the receptionist says, raising an eyebrow but not pressing further. "A bit mysterious, but I get it. Adventurers often leave their pasts behind and take up new names." She shrugs, clearly unfazed.

I guess she is used to strange monikers by now.

On the form, a small silver plate affixed to the parchment catches my attention. Beneath it are the words: Place thumb here.

Following the instructions, I press my right thumb to the plate. A sharp prick draws a drop of blood. I expect it, but the sting still makes me jerk my hand back. Without thinking, I move to stick my thumb in my mouth, only to bump it against my mask, startling myself.

I freeze, then quickly regain my composure, silently praying no one noticed. Unfortunately, I hear the receptionist stifle a laugh.

The silver plate glows softly, analyzing the blood sample and recording my mana capacity and affinities. The receptionist leans forward, her eyes widening slightly as she reads the results.

"Nine thousand… one hundred eighty-two?" she murmurs, almost to herself. Her gaze snaps to me, a mix of awe and suspicion in her expression. "That's nearly the upper end of a C-rank. And… high affinity in all five magical elements? That's unheard of for a new registrant."

I blink, stunned. I knew my magical capacity was decent thanks to training, but high affinities in all five elements? That I had not expected. A surge of pride swells in my chest, and for a moment, I let myself imagine becoming an S-rank adventurer, a hero recognized across the known world, revered as the equal of entire armies.

The receptionist clears her throat, snapping me back to reality. "Even with those readings, you'll have to start as an E-rank. Guild policy. To advance, you must complete at least ten E- or D-rank missions. After that, an assessor will review your skills based on speed, efficiency, and task difficulty."

"Keep in mind," she warns, "failing missions or committing crimes can lower your guild rating. That will make re-ranking take much longer."

"And that will be five silver for your registration fee," the guild lady adds.

I give a curt nod, acknowledging the rules, and hand her five silver coins. A few moments later, she slides a freshly engraved guild card across the counter with the name Shadow emblazoned across it.

Since I am here, I might as well pick out a quest for Shadow to complete. To my right, the mission boards are crowded with adventurers reading the quest notices nailed to them. I make my way toward the boards, murmurs following me as whispers spread about the masked newcomer with an unusually high power reading.

Among the crowd, I spot the girl from earlier, Maribel, studying the quests. She notices me as I approach.

"Hey, Shadow," she greets with a smile. "I heard your power rating. Pretty impressive. You must be skilled to get a reading like that." Her tone carries genuine admiration.

I nod. "Thank you. Have you been doing this long?"

"Well," she replies with a light chuckle, "I'm fairly new to the guild too. And while I might not be as powerful as you, I'd say I've got useful skills. Rogue-class," she adds proudly.

I tilt my head. "Rogue-class?"

Maribel laughs. "It means I focus on speed, stealth, agility, traps, and landing precise strikes when the enemy least expects it. Pretty handy against monsters you can't take head-on."

"Thanks for explaining," I say with a nod.

"Hey, starting out can be pretty hard on your own," Maribel says, sounding a bit shy but hopeful. "Would you like to do a quest with me? I could show you the ropes."

"I appreciate the offer," I reply with a small smile. "And I wouldn't mind doing quests with you in the future. But for now, since I'm still figuring things out, I think I'd like to try a few missions solo. That said, I'd really like to team up with you sometime later."

Guilt tugs at me when I see the flicker of disappointment on Maribel's face. I do want to work with her, but I'm not sure how well my puppet will hold up on a real mission. I can't risk something going horribly wrong with a witness there to discover what Shadow truly is.

Maribel looks back at me with a smile that barely hides her disappointment. "Fair enough. Well, be careful out there, Shadow. Even a D-rank mission can be risky on your first go."

We both turn to the mission board. My eyes settle on a wolf-hunting request in Lord Griswald's lands. A pack of wolves has been killing livestock, a common enough problem, but dangerous now that they have started attacking humans as well. Maribel reaches for a simpler request, locating a missing dog.

"This seems safer for someone too broke to buy healing potions," she says with a wink. "But good luck with the wolves. That's a bold first mission."

I nod and take the mission slip. Together, we return to the receptionist to confirm our quests. Once finished, we head out of the guild and part ways, and I make for the castle.

A short while later, I arrive back at my workshop in the tower. I hand Shadow the quest contract along with his brand-new E-class adventurer's card.

"We're all set, Shadow," I say, removing my cloak, mask, and armor.

"Hunting wolves, huh?" Shadow remarks as he scans the quest details. "Should be easy enough."

"Right. I think you've got everything you need, correct?" I reply, running through his equipment.

"Paralyzing short sword?"

"Check."

"Armor with physical and magical resistance?"

"Check."

"Potions, in case I come across anyone in need?"

"Check." Shadow nods. "Looks like we're ready. I'll head out soon and aim to reach Griswald's domain by nightfall. Wolves are more active after dark."

"You can borrow a horse from the stables," I offer.

Before Shadow can respond, Lady Willow's voice carries across the room. "Ren, remember that your puppet will only possess a fraction of your mana," she says as she walks over. Her gaze shifts to Shadow. "Young Master Shadow, please be cautious. Though you cannot die, if you run out of mana or sustain too much damage, you will leave behind a mangled puppet body. That could be… complicated to explain if discovered."

"I'll be careful," Shadow assures her, slipping the strap of his magical bag over his shoulder. Without further delay, he heads toward the hidden exit of the tower.

Lady Willow approved my plan when I discussed it with her earlier. She supports it because it allows me to gain experience without putting my life in direct danger. Her primary concern, as always, is my safety, making me more capable of defending myself. I appreciate that too, but for me, this is about more than survival.

I'm excited by the chance to see more of the world and face something new. Until now, my chances to leave the castle have been scarce. Through Shadow, I can finally live the life I have always dreamed of, a life full of purpose and adventure. Even if I cannot experience it directly, Shadow will see it for me, and his memories will become my own.

As Shadow leaves the tower, I return to my studies, a sense of exhilaration building within me. For the first time, it feels like my life is turning to a new and exciting chapter.