Abyssal Road Trip

Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Outpost of the Monastery of the Western Reaches

Livia gave concise instructions to a senior student to supervise and led the three of them through to the back garden. A servant shifted supporting bamboo poles and stretched out a collapsible awning across the back porch to put a circle of chairs in the shade. Amdirlain let Sarah pick a seat first and moved to sit beside her. When she sat down and reclaimed Sarah’s hand, giggling chimes rang through Isa’s essence that almost matched Sarah’s satisfaction.

“Are you going to offer me tea, too?” asked Sarah.

“Too?” questioned Livia, and a thread of energy set a sound barrier about them.

Sarah smiled, and her gaze flickered to Amdirlain.

“I can learn,” Amdirlain mock grumbled.

Though Livia kept a straight face, her gaze lit up. “She offered delicacies and drinks to all the attendees at the gathering of Mantle holders. I found how Móðir handled the Fey surprising. Her threats of violence were both explicit yet subtle, and while not diplomacy as I understand it, they took it as such.”

“Fey are a violent lot. All their rules and customs are in place to restrain them from continual bloodshed,” said Sarah. “What threats were required?”

“Merely demonstrations,” interjected Amdirlain. “One of them started to kick up a fuss. They’d asked me for music earlier, so I entertained her with a short song. She found her feet on bone dry land and the lake empty around her.”

Sarah snorted. “You didn’t take off any limbs, so it hardly counts as a threat. Fey will restore themselves from the land endlessly if their bodies are slain. Blowing up their world or killing everything living on it is the only way to make sure they stay dead. Honestly, they’re harder to wipe out than cockroaches.”

There is one way that doesn’t involve a cataclysm.

“Those are extreme measures to have tested,” said Isa.

“Not tested. It's simply with aeons you see things. An annoying irritation of a Fey stopped bugging me after their sun went supernova,” replied Sarah. “Before that, they’d played tricks across the planes. Devastated worlds have their Shadowfey shattered, and even the most hardy of the fey plants perish. As for their general hardiness, I once saw a Fey turned inside out, and they were still alive with their heart and organs out in the open air.”

Images of seared treants and dead dryads flashed in Amdirlain’s mind.

“Who did they annoy?” asked Isa.

“Did Ori-” asked Amdirlain almost at the same time.

Sarah snorted. “Not Ori, one of my lives. They might still be in mid-air in their lord’s banquet hall. We’re only talking about eight or nine billion years, and the world it occurred on was young.”

“What did they do to earn the punishment?” asked Livia curiously.

“They enjoyed sitting outside villages and making the parents listen to the screams of kidnapped children,” explained Sarah. “The children’s screams weren’t just from being kidnapped. I arrived in time for one of their bloodthirsty playtimes and repaid their past acts.”

Livia gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

“If you’d like, I can give you the names of a few beings to help educate you about the Fey,” offered Sarah. “They could provide details of customs, rules of hospitality, and other things, along with their common tricks.”

“Likely without the possibility of gaps I possess,” noted Amdirlain.

“They’d at least be more certain in the grounding they can provide,” said Sarah thoughtfully, her thumb idly caressed across Amdirlain’s wrist.

The idle gesture sent a pleasant tingle running along Amdirlain’s skin and caught Livia’s attention. Relief chimed in Livia, but she quickly tempered it with caution.

“Would it take you long to get in touch with them?” asked Livia, restraining her smile.

Sarah tapped the fingers of her free hand. “I’ll have to figure out how to contact them. I’ve not made their acquaintance in this lifetime, and some can be stand-offish until you’ve established a relationship.”

“You’re not leaving it for me to figure out alone?” questioned Livia.

“With paperwork for the monastery, you can sink or swim. That won’t kill you or anyone else,” replied Sarah. “Do a good enough job annoying a world’s Fey, and you won’t be their only target.”

“I would appreciate the help,” replied Livia. “Móðir provided some details, but I wouldn’t feel confident to visit them without causing some fuss. Would you trust them to give me advice without extracting an unreasonable fee?”

“I’ll make some enquiries and handle the introductions,” said Sarah. “I’ll tell you what they expect and what loopholes I see in their offers, but the rest will be up to you.”

Livia nodded her understanding as Ilya came out from the back of the house.

“Mind if I join you?” asked Ilya.

“Feel free. We’re not talking about anything super secretive,” said Amdirlain, and she gestured to the free spots near Isa. “We even left you a choice of seats.”

“You mean there is a merely secretive meeting I get to join in on?” asked Ilya as she slipped between chairs and plopped down on Isa’s lap.

The smile that lit up Isa’s gaze drew a laugh from Amdirlain. “I’ve invited you to a few of those and my secret lair.”

Isa giggled. “The Song Cave! It needs its own theme song.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Amdirlain. “Anyway, it no longer exists.”

“You could make another,” chirped Isa, and she gave a cheeky smile. “I can imagine flying out through a waterfall to dramatic music.”

Amdirlain rolled her eyes. “On your way to fleece the students?”

“I wasn’t fleecing them,” sniffed Isa. “I’ve been redistributing their wealth to other parties. Overall, I’ve lost a lot since I got here.”

“Oh, Luck’s evening out the playing field?” asked Ilya.

“It would seem that is the case,” said Isa. She practically bounced Ilya off her lap, twitching about upon her seat.

“I can get up,” offered Ilya.

“No,” protested Isa, and she wrapped her arms around Ilya’s middle. “My teddy bear. Just restless, sorry. I can practically hear the dice games in my head, and my bones shiver in time to them.”

Amdirlain frowned at the vibrations along Ilya’s essence, each pulse thrumming in time with her classes involving a Priest variation.

Can I get her free of the impulses from the Concept? Would she even thank me for it?

“You look distracted today,” observed Ilya.

“Revelations, good and bad, from memories,” admitted Amdirlain. “They taught me some lessons about Resonance, and the change in perspective means I’m still finding my balance.”

“Maybe you should get out and dance a bit,” proposed Ilya light-heartedly. “You had fun dancing even when your Femme Fatale proved frustrating, and a bit of fun helps me find my balance.”

The Aspect of Life complimented that world where I mingled in dance. I'd like to see what I can do now with a better understanding of biomes added into the mix.

“I might look to do something fun once the initial adjustments settle down,” agreed Amdirlain. “How is the reorganisation and teaching going?”

Ilya looked at Livia. “That’s your call. I’m not the one who has to be pleased with the results.”

The satisfied smile didn’t need any support, but Livia gave a pleased double clap. “It works a lot better. I can find the documents I want, and I’ve not had to sort them out myself.”

“Freeing your time from tedium is good,” stated Isa. “Though I bet you’re just filling the spare time you’ve gained with other things.”

“There are things that only I can do,” Livia said, smiling at Amdirlain. “Custodian has been adding to my responsibilities.”

“I’ve been avoiding anything that smacks of additional responsibility,” observed Amdirlain. “Try to ensure Custodian or the other aspects related to Protection don’t overload you.”

“If you put that advice into practice, I’ll adhere to it as well,” replied Livia. “I’ve had a bad habit of taking on too much work since I was very young.”

“No doubt my terrible influence,” quipped Amdirlain.

The words skittered an off-key tone across Livia’s essence, and she frowned in concern.

“You know, talking down about yourself even in jest isn’t healthy,” said Livia. “Master Cyrus said you’ve felt off-kilter: It’s best to be aware of what you’re adding to your mind and how it might distort your balance.”

“You’re being extra protective,” observed Amdirlain.

“Perhaps you can blame Custodian, but it doesn’t make it any less true,” replied Livia. “I’m glad for the signs I see, and I just want you to find happiness after the hard road this existence has been for you.”

“I told Sarah that I’ll get my head around things. I’ll add that to the list,” replied Amdirlain. “Can we agree that self-reflection isn’t considered overloading myself?”

Livia smiled apologetically. “Yes, we can most certainly agree to that, so I won’t use it as an excuse to take on more work.”

“Good,” offered Amdirlain. “I’m now going to have to find time for it, in between my training, of course.”

“Of course,” agreed Livia.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing half this conversation?” asked Isa, glancing between them.

Ilya twisted about within Isa’s arms to catch her confused gaze with a warm look. “That’s because you’ve been pretty busy at the gaming tables of late,” observed Ilya. “Most people follow the monastery’s day schedule, but you seem to have found enough willing to stay up late.”

“I’ll make it up to you later,” said Isa.

“It’s already later, and I’ll hold you to it,” Ilya purred, and she leaned down to nip Isa’s earlobe.

Isa blinked and bit her lip. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Right,” declared Isa, and she stood up with Ilya cradled. “Sorry to run, but we’re off to have sex, and I might even scream.”

Sarah groaned and rubbed a hand across her mouth to hide a tight smile.

“We are?” gasped Ilya, her eyes wide in mock shock. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Of course, you can pick the first position,” gushed Isa.

Ilya’s eyes lit up. “Oh, goodie.”

The pair vanished, leaving an echoing trail across the planes to an elven forest upon Arborea.

I wonder if Isa set up a home for them there.

Other options occurred to Amdirlain, and she mentally kicked herself off the trail of thoughts.

“Where did they get off to?”

“Arborea,” advised Amdirlain. “Many elven pantheons have forests on that Plane.”

Sarah snorted, and her eyes gleamed with kind amusement. “Guess there are all sorts of ways to look at getting lucky. I bet they don’t bother with walls to muffle the noise.”

“They’ll use some concealments,” declared Amdirlain.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Sarah glibly. “Isa never mentioned using them when they took breaks from scouting to enjoy the sun on Cemna. In fact, I believe she mentioned scaring the local wildlife.”

A memory of daylight spilled over Ori’s naked body and glistened off Syl’s hair in a brilliant reflection that burned in Amdirlain’s mind. The texture of soft earth through the silken blanket and Ori’s reaction to Syl’s passionate ministrations had butterflies of pleasure quivering low in Amdirlain’s stomach, and she pressed her legs tight to suppress their trembling. The Planar Shift residue faded, and the last echo of Arborea’s energy stirred other memories. Fragments of soft grass glades and birds in the trees singing their encouragement to Syl and Ori caused Amdirlain’s nostrils to flare, but she kept a polite smile.

“Are you alright?” asked Livia.

Sarah looked at Amdirlain with a carefully neutral expression to conceal the Dragon mating beat that pulsed deep within her being.

Sarah has had her adult moulting, and I am doing a number on her. Dragons don’t get that way for just anyone whose scent gets excited, only those they consider their mate. Just a smidge of pressure there.

“I think we’re getting way off topic,” blurted Amdirlain, as she felt more memories stirring and a warm pleasure slip effortlessly through her defences. “I’m having issues with memories at present. Would you take the lead, Sarah?”

Mental Hardening isn’t helping me keep this under control, but its focus is against injury.

“We could wait,” offered Sarah.

“No idea how long,” breathed Amdirlain. “They’re very distracting. I can hear far more of the songs she’s using now.”

This is dangerous. I won’t be able to put off an increase to my levels long; I need a large Intelligence increase to handle all the details I’m hearing.

Sarah grunted in surprise and nodded. “Isa leaves planned topics in chaos. Am’s training hall was what we came to talk about with you.”

“The one being rented or Nolmar?” asked Livia.

As the pair spoke, scattered images of worlds and moments of joy swam through Amdirlain’s awareness. Snippets of songs cascaded through her mind as Ori danced across hundreds of plains and under skies with few, isolated stars. Solid stone and dry ground became fertile soil rich with nutrients, and life sprang up around her. Ori’s energy especially soared on those worlds when, high in the sky, Syl glided through the atmosphere that had been pre-prepared to support life.

“The one here, but maybe not renting for much longer,” said Sarah. “I offered to teach the local artificers some Dragon techniques for impressing runes within objects.”

Livia’s jaw dropped, and she leaned forward eagerly. “Is it similar to the dwarven techniques?”

“Who do you think taught them?” huffed Sarah. “Metallic dragons have helped educate younger species in the arcane and runes since before the Anar existed.”

“The dwarves have repeatedly refused to teach those techniques to humans,” said Livia.

Are we breaking some sort of accord? Oh well, too bad.

“That’s not my concern. I gave the Head Clerk Erhi a list of conditions and a minor trinket as evidence to show I could fulfil my offer,” advised Sarah. “Among my conditions was that the monastery give the training hall and its site to Amdirlain. After we left the duty pavilion, Amdirlain suggested that reconstructing a place in your Domain with some of her gifts would require your permission.”

“If they sell you the site, then it’s yours to do what you want,” Livia said. “Unless I’m missing something?”

Amdirlain licked her upper lip and nodded once. “We came to ask permission to play some dimensional games with the training hall.”

Sarah looked at her questioningly and gently squeezed her hand.

‘I’ll tell you later,’ projected Amdirlain.

“Like you did with Nolmar?” asked Livia.

“Sarah will need a space for a workshop, and I was considering constructing an obstacle course to stretch the difficulty of cycling Ki more than just a larger training space,” advised Amdirlain.

“An obstacle course that would cause you difficulty?” asked Livia. “Or just one that would be more challenging than objects placed in a courtyard to manoeuvre around?”

“The course will be designed to challenge me,” replied Amdirlain. “I want to get to where I can cycle in the middle of battle, as Ki Blast can use up a flood of Ki. I don’t want to burn through it if I don’t have a way to replenish it.”

“How big a space will you be expanding the hall to contain?”

“I’d suggest a thousand kilometres,” offered Sarah before Amdirlain could reply.

The elements of the song she’d need popped into her head, and Amdirlain blinked. “I wouldn’t build anything that big.”

“Why not?” asked Sarah. “You could.”

“I might as well build it on a demi-plane if I was going to do that,” muttered Amdirlain.

“No, then it’s not within Livia’s Domain,” said Sarah. “And two points: you said you would make a home here, and being inside the Domain affords you protection.”

“You’re making a home here?” asked Livia; her eyes shone, but she kept her smile contained.

“Yes.”

“Making a home has a far different meaning from saying you’d live here for a time,” replied Livia. “I used to dream of having a home with you.”

“You don’t get to move in either,” said Amdirlain. “I already told Isa no.”

“You need your personal space, but making a home in my Domain is exactly like moving in with me,” advised Livia.

Amdirlain pursed her lips and considered the imagery and feeling she’d used in creating her Domain; the warmth of home that had spurred that successful formation of the wellspring drew a nod of understanding from her. “I hadn’t considered that aspect. Please let me play some dimensional games and expand the gaps between matter?”

With a winsome smile, she fluttered her lashes and clasped hands together pleadingly. Livia instinctively crossed her arms, her judge’s instincts not buckling into the playfulness that rose from Amdirlain.

A snort of amusement from Sarah had Livia looking between them. “What is going on?”

“Am’s a little giddy at present,” offered Sarah. “She’ll calm down when self-doubt gets its claws back into her. For now, she’s erratic from having regained some memories and breaking through the outer layer of protection that Ori put in place around my Soul.”

That is fair. Mental Hardening and Pain Eater significantly help dealing with the unpleasant, but I feel almost bubbly.

“However much extra space you believe you can safely squeeze in the training hall’s site, you have my permission to do so,” said Livia.

Sarah gave Amdirlain a satisfied nod. “See, I told you it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“You wouldn’t go digging in another Dragon’s territory, would you?” asked Amdirlain. “Even if you were after something you knew they wouldn’t give a talon scraping about?”

“Fine,” huffed Sarah. “Shall we head back and leave Livia to her evening teaching?”

“Okay,” agreed Amdirlain and as they stood, she reclaimed Sarah’s hand.

“Can I have a moment, Móðir?” pleaded Livia, and she looked at Sarah apologetically. “Alone?”

Amdirlain tilted her head at Livia’s tone—an intermingling of nerves, happiness, and regret coiled within her essence. “Of course.”

Sarah released her hand and briefly squeezed Amdirlain’s shoulder. “I’ll see you back at the training hall.”

“What did you want to speak about?” asked Amdirlain, her gaze almost challenging. Though she could hear the happiness within Livia, she didn’t want to just let her off the hook for intruding.

Everyone wants to stick their nose in when I want time to work out my own feelings and thoughts.

Livia hesitated, “Several matters, but first, is there something between you and Sarah?”

“It’s too early to tell from my side, but if there was?” asked Amdirlain.

“I’m just glad there is the possibility of happiness for you, Móðir,” said Livia. “It was just after your conversation with Custodian. Well, I was unsure if it was just hopeful imagination, and I didn’t want to put you on the spot in front of her.”

“A Judge’s instinct to get at the facts?” asked Amdirlain.

“I would like to support you however you need,” explained Livia. “That’s something I could not do as a child.”

The strains of regret brought a sad smile, and Amdirlain stepped close and hugged Livia. “Being protective of family goes both ways, which I must remember. There are hurts and self-doubts from my past life that I’ve let linger for too long and, because of them, I have trouble seeing my own value. I’m just a normal girl, right?”

Livia laughed with rib-shaking force and clung to Amdirlain. “Since when?”

“Once, I would have said since forever. Anyway, my past hurts left me feeling unworthy of being loved, and that’s likely what made me blind to it,” said Amdirlain. “I had a Power upgrade of Resonance that let me see Sarah’s Soul and her love, but it does more than that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more when you were growing up. I can hear the pain of that now. We both miss him, and his absence hurts, but the pain has eased enough that I can move on. I don’t know if Sarah will be that person or if I’ve yet to find them. Time will tell.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in the female form?” questioned Livia.

“I’m not,” agreed Amdirlain. “But it's not Sarah’s body I’m attracted to. And we both can shapeshift, so what is it about a form’s gender that is so important? I need to figure out if my emotions about her Soul are mine or those from memories now swaying me.”

“She’s ferocious and passionate about anything for you,” observed Livia. “I hope you find so much love and happiness that it makes all the pain you’ve gone through seem like a tiny dot in the distance.”

The aching loneliness that the aeons had inflicted on Ori niggled at the back of Amdirlain’s mind. Though it was simply an awareness of the situation she’d endured, it was an uncomfortable warning.

I’ll need to ensure I don’t lose Sarah again. Isa has a Celestial’s immortality, but Sarah is still long-lived Mortal flesh.

The thought of Sarah being gone caused a spike of pain that breached through her protections and Amdirlain went rigid to avoid squeezing Livia.

“What’s wrong? Is it more unpleasant memories?” whispered Livia.

“I’ve gotten some memories since I used the harp to inspire recollection,” advised Amdirlain, and she considered keeping the truth of her reaction to herself.

I’ll tell Sarah, not Livia.

Livia sighed in exasperation. “When you were given that harp, I didn’t expect you’d actually ever use it.”

“The enchantments within it were obvious, and there weren’t any traps. I think it’s my nature, my Skill, and one Aspect might have conspired or provided a unique synergy,” admitted Amdirlain. “Then again, that could just be my paranoia, and it was simply a matter of an attunement with my Soul’s memories that did the work. The first memory it helped recall was of Ori learning to play the harp, and I had just gotten a notification for unlocking the Skill when it surfaced.”

“Is that why you said you need to get your thoughts and feelings straightened?” asked Livia.

“No, that was about more private matters and my feelings there,” advised Amdirlain.

“Ahh,” breathed Livia. “If you can hear souls, why don’t you contemplate your own and see if an outside influence is at work? If nothing else, I’m sure it would be beautiful to look at, but it might provide insights into those long-term issues you felt you needed to address.”

Do I have the courage to do that again? My examination of my Soul without the Soulscape translation wasn’t fun.

“I’ve examined it in the past, and it’s not a pleasant sight,” explained Amdirlain. The pitted moonscape surface resonated with memories of the thorns that had covered Ori’s figure in the lake of sludge.

“Móðir, I’m going to say this straight up: I’ve felt the beauty of your Soul when I was a child, so don’t be a numbskull,” said Livia. “I know you’ve said it’s scarred, but try to look at what’s there instead of the injuries. Also, I’d advise you to spend more time cycling. It will help to ease the scars. But do your emotions feel wrong to you? Imposed?”

“No, they don’t. However, the recollections are intense, and there’s a risk of influence that has me proceeding carefully so I don’t cause either of us regrets,” admitted Amdirlain, and she carefully patted Livia’s back before releasing her.

Livia scratched her ear sheepishly. “I hope I didn’t come across as sticking my nose into your and Sarah’s business.”

“You were sticking your nose in, but it was discretely done, and you only sought clarification, so I’ll give you a pass,” said Amdirlain. “It’s when people want to tell me what I must do or feel that I get my back up.”

Knowing more about Ori, I can see so many of her traits in me. Will gaining more of her memories change that, or just reinforce my nature?

“I can understand that, especially when accompanied by emotional manipulation,” acknowledged Livia.

“What else did you want to discuss?”

“If you’re going to be teaching more people affinities, the monastery is likely to end up with a shortage of magic instructors,” said Livia. “Some may simply make use of the Affinity for powers like Ki Infusion, but most are likely to either take on Wizard or Wu Jen classes. To arrange their training, I’ll either need to reach out to Yngvarr and the teachers he’s gathered at Nolmar or talk to my contacts in the kingdoms.”

“The issue with the latter being?” asked Amdirlain.

“The ones I’m more comfortable requesting help from are all residents of Eyrarháls and are among the old veterans you taught,” explained Livia. “They’d likely recognise you, and there is the situation with your Mantle and Ebusuku, so I don’t want to cause discomfort.”

Amdirlain smiled. “There is another option, Livia. However, the situation with Xaos is more delicate as a neutral divine alliance is involved with the township, so asking for other heavenly help was a no-no.”

“You’re proposing I seek Celestial help?” asked Livia.

“Yes, and I’m inclined to hit up a particular individual since he stuck his nose in and shared some of my secrets with Silpar without asking,” said Amdirlain. “Especially fitting, considering Sarah has already pointed out dragons have been teaching younger species magic for some time.”

“You’re suggesting I contact the Platinum Dragon?”

At least his title didn’t grab his attention.

Amdirlain shook her head. “I’ll do that for you. I’ve got some questions to ask him about Ori and promises. How do you think the students would handle dragons for instructors?”

“I’m sure they’ll be able to handle it. The East Wind is the Blue Dragon,” said Livia. “It might be confusing for some. The eastern dragons use colour references but differ from those found in the west and don’t follow their abyssal progenitor. That’s if they’re even aware their instructors are dragons. Sarah advised me the moneychanger at Sanctuary’s Cove is a Gold Dragon, and I couldn’t tell.”

“Metallic dragons can blend into Mortal societies well when they bother to try,” said Amdirlain. “Would you object to him visiting your Domain? I could bring him by and introduce him.”

Livia smiled wryly. “Meeting him would be an honour and intimidating, but I noticed you’ve still not mentioned his name.”

“I didn’t want him sticking his nose in if you didn’t want his help,” explained Amdirlain. “Should I?”

“Please extend a polite invitation to him,” requested Livia. “You have a habit of casualness with certain deities, and how you invite him might impact any dealings I have with him as well.”

“I can be extremely polite,” said Amdirlain.

Livia fixed Amdirlain with a sceptical look. “You can when you choose to be polite, but you also tell people to pull rats out of their arse.”

Hopefully, he’ll let me know about any promises Ori made to him or those he knows about with others.

“I need to speak to Bahamut about several matters related to Orhêthurin. Would it be acceptable to host him in your Domain after I rebuild my training hall?” requested Amdirlain.

Livia went rigid with surprise when Bahamut’s awareness swept over them. Amdirlain was more aware of the force within his attention and could feel its brilliant metallic tones.

“Ori had a long-term relationship with Bahamut, and our discussion could take some time. Should I bring him around before or after our meeting for introductions?”

“I wouldn’t impose on him to visit me, Móðir,” replied Livia demurely. “It would be an honour to host though I’ll leave it to you two to decide if I meet with him or you act as my proxy to arrange for magical instructors.”

Curiosity and amusement coloured through Bahamut’s focus on them.

“Thank you for looking in, Bahamut,” said Amdirlain. ‌”Are you open to stopping in and having a chat with me at some future point in time?”

A pulse of laughter rang out, though it didn’t break the sound barrier Livia’s control over her Domain had held around their conversation.

“Let me know when you have time for a lengthy chat, and I’ll drop by to meet with you and your daughter,” said Bahamut before his focus on them cut off.

“Primordials,” huffed Amdirlain. “He didn’t even use a Spell for that demonstration. Speaking to us across planes was as simple as wanting to be heard.”

“Is there a Power involved in that, or are they beyond powers and the rules that bind mortals?” inquired Livia curiously.

“They most certainly aren’t beyond the rules. The memory I had of Ori learning the harp, she commented she wanted to ensure the rules worked properly for them as well,” advised Amdirlain, but the question niggled with a familiar itch at the back of her mind. “I can’t imagine they bound themselves by the rules and let other primordials play fast and loose. Let me see if I can find something.”

It only took a few attempts before a straightforward name received a response from Analysis.

[Primoridial Will:

Details: This special ability allows a being to impose their will to implement effects for which weaker beings require magic, psionics, and other aids, including True Song. The manifestations of this vary for each Primordial able to access it. Only those primordial beings able to advance their species’ tier gain it. An individual’s strength and the advancement of this ability determine the manifestations they can cause within rules.

Note: True Song is a simplified version of Ori’s manifestation of this Power, created to enable the Anar and Lómë to alter reality.

Note: For the Titan, his forge and hammer direct the manifestation of his will; for Ori, it was music.

Note: Yes, the general evolution tiers apply.]

Amdirlain repeated the details to Livia, and she whistled softly. “Honestly, I’m surprised Ori let them keep any form of True Song when they walked away from the Titan. If a steward quits, he doesn’t get to keep the keys to his Jarl’s residence. I know the example is simplistic, yet it strikes me as similar to True Song, and they walked away. To protect the realm, I would have stripped the Power from them regardless if it left them adrift. They quit after second-guessing the Titan's plans. Why did they deserve to keep that Power? He didn’t dismiss them, and they didn’t consider he had valid reasons to keep things secret.”

True, or keeping administration-level passwords to the system after no longer being employed. If they lost that Power, would Balnérith have even targeted them?

[Evolution Tiers:

Details: For individuals that have advanced their powers or skills beyond the boundaries of Grandmaster for the highest named evolution of a progression tree, the evolution tiers follow these patterns:

Lord

Prince

King

Emperor

Legend

Saint

Divine

Titan

Note: True Song Genesis would gain these suffixes.]

Well, I have a new set of goals. Can I get True Song Genesis into these tiers before taking on Balnérith?

Amdirlain tapped a finger against her lips, and Livia raised an eyebrow.

“You look thoughtful,” commented Livia.

“Just got something new to aim for,” admitted Amdirlain. “I found out the name of my next evolutions in True Song, wondering how high I can reach before I crush Balnérith.”

“Are you planning to go for overkill?” asked Livia.

“I’m sure I’ve told you before...”

“There is no such thing as overkill. The enemy is either dead or not,” interjected Livia. “Yes, I know, but using more strength than you need could leave you vulnerable if someone attacks you afterwards.”

“The stronger I am, the less capacity I’ll need to spend to end her,” said Amdirlain. “Ori felt such compassion for those brought into this realm from theirs. Yet Balnérith must have plotted the corruption of the Anar and Lómë for such a long time to gain their trust. Aeons without tipping her hand, nor taking any action of outright evil so she didn’t lose her Celestial status in the process.”

“How could she?”

“Testing the convictions of a Mortal isn’t an act of evil, nor is getting them to question their beliefs,” replied Amdirlain. “If it were, then every Celestial involved in a philosophical debate anywhere within Mortal hearing would fall. Some of them are quite convincing speakers, and they’re not held responsible for someone else’s decision to change deities or their path in life. There are exceptions to that, and it’s a simplistic example, but Balnérith must have found loopholes in Ori’s rules.”

“I’m sure you could convince someone that water isn’t wet,” said Livia.

Amdirlain shrugged. “Might be fun to try, but that’s pretty simple since water itself isn’t wet. Wetness is a sensation. Your body translates contact with it as wet, but water is a fluid, not a sensation. Aquatic lifeforms don’t feel wet. Rather, they feel shifts in pressure.”

Livia giggled. “You just proved my point. No wonder you passed as a Bard!”

“That’s just rude,” Amdirlain sniffed dramatically. “Is there anything else you want to discuss?”

“Just one last thing. Since you might arrange teachers, has the duty pavilion spoken to you about issuing a job to teach further students affinities?”

“We cleared up an approach with Erhi before we came over,” replied Amdirlain. “Hopefully, we save them some time as they were trying to determine a priority for grouping them up.”

“Let me guess, you told Erhi to pull them together in one group?” laughed Livia.

“Close. We suggested grouping them up by the elemental Affinity they’re after,” advised Amdirlain. “They’re going to see how big a group they can efficiently gather at once with lesson schedules and such. If there isn’t anything else?”

“I’ll let you go, but thank you for dropping by,” said Livia, and she gave Amdirlain another hug. “You can drop in more often just to talk. That will give us both a break from our work and training.”

“I’ll try, but I’ll admit I’m too used to just pushing on,” replied Amdirlain and, with a broadening smile, she disappeared.