Abyssal Road Trip

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

The seedlings in the surrounding rice paddies grew nearly a half metre as they waited, showing the same surge of growth Amdirlain had observed in the fields outside of Xaos. Amdirlain pushed Resonance forward through the wilderness to the limits she could handle and then further still. The information that saturated her mind kept Ori’s memories to a distant niggle. Preoccupied by that mass of songs, a couple of hours rolled by with the pair standing in the Outlands’ warm sunshine before Amdirlain realised it.

“He’s taken much longer than I had expected,” murmured Amdirlain.

Sarah smiled at Amdirlain, and the disconnect between expectation and the male form sent Amdirlain’s thoughts skittering sideways before she sent Resonance delving to the Soul level again. Among other details, the strong fingers of Sarah’s elven male form holding her hand caught Amdirlain’s focus.

“Guess I should have brought the couch with us,” said Sarah. “You looked like you were napping upright.”

“Sorry, I’ve been distracted. Listening to the forest has helped quiet the memories,” said Amdirlain.

“Hopefully, there won’t be a need to mess with the harp again,” said Sarah. “Still going to ask for help with it?”

“Yeah,” said Amdirlain, and she waved her free hand towards the trees beyond the end of the road. “I wish I knew what he’d meant by soon. I don’t know how to judge what time means to a Primordial.”

“He’s not normally the type to dawdle,” offered Sarah. “When you contacted him on the demi-plane after Silpar admitted he’d been recruited to help you, did he take long to show up?”

“He was there almost immediately,” confirmed Amdirlain.

“You’ve been promising yourself some time to soak up the sun for a while,” said Sarah. “Why not take the chance to relax? At least you’ll be waiting where you told him. You could poke him if the wait looks to run into your lesson times.”

“Now look who is suggesting being casual with a Primordial,” said Amdirlain before she hummed thoughtfully. “I kinda wish I didn’t let Livia know in advance.”

Sarah nodded. “Is Livia fussing about getting things ready for her guest?”

No sooner had Sarah asked than a white-haired old man with craggy features appeared just beyond the Domain’s boundary, a half dozen metres away. Unlike the neat attire worn in his elven form, this time, Bahamut wore travel-worn robes that were hemmed long enough to brush across the ground, which accounted for their frayed edges. The peak of his brown, wide-brimmed hat flopped about as Bahamut ruefully shook his head.

The movement caused the seven songbirds perched on it to issue vehement protests, their shrill calls strange given Amdirlain’s ability to hear the concealed dragons’ bugling cries. Those accompanying him were a mix of female silver and gold dragons today.

Amdirlain easily locked down a blush of embarrassment and wondered at the difference in controlling her reactions. With a pulse of amusement running within her, Sarah shrugged casually and returned to the form of a willowy brunette Human, “Or he could just pop in randomly.”

I didn’t notice his attention was on us. Did he only let me know earlier to be polite? I wonder how his escort is determined?

“My apologies. I was foolishly waiting on someone else,” offered Bahamut. “Still, I should have advised you that things were taking longer than I had hoped.”

His awareness brushed across the mountain and greeted Livia. As she acknowledged Bahamut’s reassurance he’d been met, she hurried to send her late-evening students and visitors on their way. With her acknowledgement, Bahamut crossed the threshold of her Domain and strode towards them.

“And you got tired of waiting for them?” asked Amdirlain.

“Your conversation ticked against my awareness and made me realise how much time had passed,” said Bahamut, waving towards the clouds. “She’s still fussing about other things, so I’ll leave arranging a separate visit to her without my introduction.”

His will alone set a concealment that included the barrier Amdirlain already had in place.

The Primordial’s crystal blue gaze settled on their clasped hands, and he smiled sadly. “Amdirlain and Shindraithra, I’m glad you found each other again.”

Of course, he’d use her draconic name. Sarah’s adoption of it should have told me how she saw the old memories.

“We’re still working things out,” interjected Sarah, cutting short Bahamut’s congratulations, and his bushy eyebrows lifted in surprise at her abruptness.

“Bahamut, thank you for coming. Sarah’s just being protective. Other people have made the same assumption, but I’m working out where my brain is concerning physical forms and dozens of other things,” said Amdirlain. “Sarah’s being very patient with me, but I know I’m worrying her.”

“Then I’ll not intrude and hope you both find the happiness you deserve, together or separately. Given your state, I’m sure you’ve got much going on,” said Bahamut, and he warmly grasped Amdirlain’s shoulders. “You’re practically bursting at the seams, young lady. How have you grown so fast since last we met?”

“A bit of construction work,” replied Amdirlain. “It provides excellent returns on time invested.”

Bahamut huffed curiously. “Are you constructing more of those demi-planes?”

“Lots of demi-planes and a few other things,” admitted Amdirlain. “Just minor projects, you know, nothing much.”

“I see. In that case, how many more levels will you constrain in that form before you take the transformation? It has to be getting uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable how?

Aware of the escort of dragons, Amdirlain kept her reply vague. “I need at least twenty-one hundred total levels since gaining Fallen, but I’m still deciding if I’ll cram in more strength.”

“Did Gideon provide you some guidance about the transformations?” enquired Bahamut.

“And told me there isn’t an upper limit,” said Amdirlain. “They’ll just make new thresholds for me to reach since no Fallen has taken the transformation option I’ve already passed.”

“Perhaps not an absolute limit, but one reaches a point where the growth of a single level becomes exponentially harder than it is now,” said Bahamut.

“The only reason I’m considering going higher is the experience growth I can access with True Song. My main hold-up is figuring out the best option for a fourth Class. Custodian warned me to ensure I’m as strong as possible before freeing myself from the Hidden state.”

Bahamut smiled. “Why might that be?”

“The phrase they used was ‘I’m already as strong as a nascent Primordial’,” said Amdirlain. “But the main warning was that I’d draw attention once I can be found.”

The news got a pleased chortle from Bahamut, and he released Amdirlain’s shoulder. “A nascent Primordial, that is good news, though I noticed you said as strong as. Such details are key. I hope you manage the breakthrough required to return to a Primordial state. One thing to know is that acquiring experience will be meaningless at that point. Refining your essence to progress is a far more complex challenge.”

I’ll need to find out more about that later.

A grin lit his gaze, and he offered a hand to Sarah. “It is good to meet you again, Shindraithra. Though your evolution didn’t give you a form attuned to my heavenly Plane, you’re welcome to visit anytime.”

Though Sarah had been abrupt before, at his greeting, Sarah clasped his arm and, after releasing his forearm, bowed respectfully. “Lord Bahamut.”

We’re fully capable of getting things in altogether the wrong order, but we’ve recovered.

“I had expected Silpar to be with you,” noted Bahamut. “Has he caused problems for you, Amdirlain?”

“Not any problem per se, just that I’m staying here for a time, and his presence was chafing,” said Amdirlain, holding back a comment at Livia’s reaction to Bahamut’s arrival. “While I appreciate you meant well, others being advised of my secrets without permission wasn’t sitting well.”

“I can give you a list of all I told him. The details were relatively minor in the bigger scheme of things,” responded Bahamut apologetically. “I wanted to ensure he understood the importance of the task I was setting him.”

Amdirlain nodded. “I should have thought to ask for that list before I let my guard down. Some of my deeds surprised him, and my issue with him is partly being irked with myself for showing my hand.”

“Hopefully, you can sort things out between you. He’ll be useful to you unless you risk seeking other individuals for help in the deep planes,” said Bahamut. “I had, in part, set him the hard task of assisting your endeavour so he would feel like he had properly atoned.”

“If I cut off his involvement, do you expect it will set him back?” Amdirlain enquired.

I’ve still got to figure out where things stand.

Bahamut waved dismissively, as if she shouldn’t concern herself with it. “If he doesn’t gain sufficient progress to reach the end of his Path from helping you, he’ll have to get it another way, which is not your responsibility.”

Harsh notes soured Sarah’s theme, but she kept her expression composed.

What was that about?

“Shall we head up the mountain while you inform me of the help you need along the way, or should we hold that conversation in Livia’s presence?” enquired Bahamut.

“Some of the help I sought relates to the monastery, but there are personal matters related to Ori,” explained Amdirlain. “We can talk along the way or Teleport to Livia and speak of Ori afterwards.”

“I’m sure whatever requests you’ve suggested to Livia will be the quickest to resolve,” said Bahamut. “Why don’t we see her immediately and then relax somewhere to discuss your questions?”

“Should we rejoin you at the monastery’s front gate?” proposed Amdirlain.

“At Livia’s front door,” countered Bahamut, and he vanished along with the songbirds.

Amdirlain shifted herself and Sarah, arriving as Bahamut knocked almost delicately on the door.

The premises were empty except for Livia, who pulled the front door open in a dress that matched her flawless white skin and crystal blue eyes. The dominant blue of the layered dress was a whirling ice storm with the individual flakes silhouetted in white.

“Lord Bahamut, it’s an honour that you came to visit. Please come inside,” invited Livia. “I hope my modest dwelling isn’t offensive.”

“Grand palaces have their place, as do training halls and offices, Lady Livia. There is no offence in a dwelling that fulfils the needs of its inhabitants without gaudy trappings,” said Bahamut as he made a show of examining the hall’s decorations for the mortals. “I like the cultural mix involved in your decorations. What criteria did you use for their selection?”

Livia stepped off to one side of the doors and ushered them inside. “I merely picked decorations I found pleasing or whose meaning I found restful.”

“A home arranged to please the eye and ease the mind is for the best,” agreed Bahamut. “Many of the decorations around my palaces are gifts I wouldn’t have necessarily chosen myself. While many of them were crafted with skill to suit my tastes, I don’t always like all of them.”

“Some days you do appreciate them?”

“Certain artworks require a particular mood to appreciate properly,” clarified Bahamut. “Especially pieces that aren’t quite aligned with one’s focus.”

“A Jarl once gave me a tapestry displaying a bloody battlefield. While the craftsmanship was masterful, the subject matter left a sour taste whenever I viewed it,” commented Livia.

Bahamut nodded. “Exactly, even the grandest artistic efforts wane if the subject isn’t to one’s taste.”

“Will your escort join us in something other than songbird form?” asked Livia as she closed the door behind Amdirlain and Sarah.

The stressed word drew a snort of amusement from Sarah.

“They’re prone to fussing in any form,” replied Bahamut. “Since they insisted on coming along, perhaps it might be best if they remained in their feathered shapes to avoid cluttering your home.”

“I could whip up some birdseed for them,” offered Amdirlain.

Most of the escort stuck their beaks in the air in a mock huff, but one jumped from Bahamut’s hat to land on Sarah’s shoulder and tweeted away in a scolding tone a string of complaints about her species.

Sarah huffed. “I didn’t exactly pick the species of Dragon I got offered in my evolution. Now, don’t be a jerk, or I’ll track down embarrassing stories from when you were a hatchling and spread them far and wide.”

“I wonder if I could disrupt the dimensional effect that allows you to shapeshift,” pondered Amdirlain. “That might stop you from being a species snob.”

With a snap of her wings, the Dragon returned to Bahamut’s hat and stayed on the far side of its peak from Amdirlain. Tales of the powers of the Anar went ramping through the Dragon’s public mind.

Being out of the line of sight wouldn’t help you if I could pull that off. Though, are they safe? Maybe I can manage it with the right fulcrum, even if I can’t overcome you with brute force.

A tweak contracted Resonance’s range to a few hundred metres, and Amdirlain dipped it through the dimensional layers. As Livia led the way to the backroom, Amdirlain catalogued the dimensional linkages maintaining the forms of Bahamut’s escorts. When she started considering the options for locking forms, she grew aware of Bahamut observing her patiently.

‘Intending a practical joke, perhaps?’ projected Bahamut.

‘Research. I might run into a Red Dragon or another chromatic species that can shapeshift,’ replied Amdirlain, restraining her surprise. ‘Figuring out how to lock them in a more vulnerable form would be useful. That and they insisted on coming along to someone else’s lair. With such trips, one never knows what might happen if you don’t behave yourself. I didn’t appreciate the old snob telling Sarah off for her new species.’

With a mental chortle, his awareness withdrew from her mind.

Livia led them to the backroom with its shutters open wide to provide an unobstructed view of the back courtyard and the picturesque view of the monastery, fields, and forest.

Bahamut politely declined Livia’s offer of refreshments, and she immediately moved on without a pause.

With a fluid gesture, she motioned to the table and stood waiting for everyone to choose seats, but Bahamut stopped. “I’m a visitor; as this is your Domain, it’s only right you sit first. I’d be uncomfortable if I found I claimed your normal spot.”

Livia sat down across from the door, and the others distributed themselves around the table.

When Bahamut settled on a seat with a view out the back windows and started to remove his hat, the birds took flight and landed on the shelves holding assorted decorations about the room.

“What can I assist your Domain with, Livia?” asked Bahamut.

Livia’s gaze flicked to Amdirlain. “This isn’t a request for my Domain, but rather for the students of the monastery. Am will potentially help over two thousand students gain affinities, and we don’t have magical instructors to handle their education.”

“Ahh and you’re seeking dragons to assist,” said Bahamut, and he looked at Amdirlain. “Are you paying them, or is the monastery?”

“What sort of payment is required?” inquired Livia.

“It depends, typically on the Dragon. Some teach because they want to improve their region or world. Still, many teach various students seeking to find a prodigy suitable to serve as their Voice,” replied Bahamut. “While the one selected has a position for life if they wish it, the rest still receive training in the magical arts preferred by that Dragon and are free to teach others. Finally, some are more pragmatic and set teaching fees as a simple way to increase their hoard. However, since the monastery is not located near any instructors, those that teach for the first two reasons will probably be uninterested.”

“Except the students already have obligations to the monastery for other training, so they’re not free to accept the position of Voice anyway,” said Livia. “Given that Sarah had given a hefty list of conditions to teach the artificers advanced techniques, I hoped you’d either suggest celestials or have a particular cost in mind.”

“Celestials would still require reimbursement. The goods they receive would be used to support worthy causes elsewhere,” said Bahamut before he glanced at Sarah curiously. “You used to teach willingly simply to bolster a species.”

“That was in previous lives, and since the monastery wanted to handle Am through its usual bureaucracy, they aren’t getting gifts from me in return,” explained Sarah. “Also, I wanted to ensure that anyone I taught took the lessons seriously. I find freebies are often treated with the same weight as their price.”

“Another reason for celestials requiring reimbursement,” acknowledged Bahamut.

An approach to ensure the students appreciate it and pay the dragons without bankrupting the monastery.

“I might have a suggestion to allow both parties to benefit without an upfront layout,” said Amdirlain.

“What did you have in mind, Móðir?” questioned Livia. “Are you just going to pay the fees and have people pay you back?”

“No, I’m going to let each student pay their own educational fees in gathered materials and gain experience simultaneously,” replied Amdirlain. “I could set up a training complex. Each Dragon’s student will tithe a portion of what they bring back to their teacher and can deliver the rest of the materials to the duty pavilion for contribution points. Or perhaps the duty pavilion can handle the paperwork for the lot. The instructors can set a cost per lesson, and the gathering efforts are how that’s met.”

“What about those students who don’t want to be wizards or have yet to take any classes?” asked Livia.

Sarah smiled. “You need to see a training complex. They’re so far beyond fighting constructs in Nolmar.”

“What do you mean?” asked Livia. “They were set up to help the natives get strong enough to handle the ghost caverns, weren’t they?”

I should have given Livia a better explanation.

“They’re not just for combatants,” said Sarah as Amdirlain shifted uncomfortably with embarrassment. “They’ve got areas of gathering challenges that allow them to develop other skills besides combat. There aren’t generally hazards in the early stages, but rarer materials have associated dangers that require teams to protect the gatherers against. The gatherers learn to appreciate their protectors, and usually, it doesn’t take long for the guards to respect the difference between an untrained hack trying to bring back resources and someone skilled.”

“I’d include regions where individuals could mine for metals and rare minerals,” added Amdirlain.

Livia stiffened in surprise at the mention of metals.

I really should have told her more about the training complexes. Did she think they were just for combat classes and harvesting from combat kills?

“Maybe you should set up a standard complex and let Livia see for herself,” proposed Sarah. “Or sneak her into one you’ve got active for Qil Tris already.”

“Would students not being instructed in magical arts be allowed to access the training complex?” inquired Livia hesitantly.

“If they tithe me a share of materials,” replied Amdirlain.

“Why handle it that way?” enquired Livia.

“How is it normally handled in the kingdoms if a lord allows miners to work a vein on their lands or gatherers into their forests?” asked Amdirlain. ”I’ll set it as a low flat rate, so the more they push themselves, the more profit they’ll make.”

“What will you do with the tithe?” asked Livia. “The other masters will ask.”

“Since it's mine, it’s not their business, but I’ll funnel it into teaching foundational skills on various worlds,” replied Amdirlain. “I like to set up self-sustaining improvements. I’m trying to curb my generosity and let people's efforts temper them. Yet helping someone get their foot onto the ladder through basic instruction allows them to set a foundation for their own dreams. Dreams need effort to become real.”

The people of Qil Tris proved that to be true.

“I think I’d need to see a training complex. I’d visualised Nolmar’s tower on a large scale. Once I’ve seen it, we can discuss the options you’re suggesting,” said Livia. “Hadn’t you decided not to establish one at Xaos because you had concerns?”

“The economic impacts could be substantial, but it gives you an option for your students to pay their teachers. I’ve also since learnt from Master Cyrus why this Outpost has been set up,” said Amdirlain. “The planes with their endless resources are at your fingertips, so no one has to choose to use the complexes.”

Livia hummed thoughtfully. “Do you have some sort of safety net like in Nolmar’s tower?”

“None of them have a safety net, and I only put the one in place in Nolmar to avoid diminishing Xaos’ garrison. The students will need to take the dangers seriously, but they’re already risking their lives for contribution points when required to venture out of the monastery,” said Amdirlain. “The advantage is they’ll know what they’re looking for is within the complex. Though they are big places, they aren’t close to the scale of even a Quasi-Elemental Plane.”

“Now that we’ve sorted out ‌how the students can fund lessons, the question remains: Dragon or Celestial instructors?” said Bahamut. “Celestials will be more selective in who they teach and expect certain standards of conduct from their students, standards that might not align with the Jade Court’s ethics.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” murmured Livia. “I was thinking of students getting the chance to gain mentors like Torm.”

“Take your time to consider it, but in either case, I’ll require favours from both of you,” said Bahamut. “If it had been something personal for either of you, I’d not be worried. However, you’re asking for my involvement in the lives of thousands of unknown individuals with flow-on effects into kingdoms I know nothing about.”

I’ve requested his time for an exercise that doesn’t help him.

“That’s fair,” agreed Amdirlain.

“No, it’s not fair,” said Livia, tapping the table and giving Amdirlain a firm look. “You get nothing out of this Móðir, as that tithe of materials is meaningless to you. I’ll take on the obligation of the favours. I’ll either deliver on them directly or with the help of the Jade Court since the mortals in their kingdoms will benefit.”

Bahamut shook his head. “You’ve missed the point, Livia. Amdirlain must learn that I’m not here to solve all her problems. She asked for my help for mortals I’ve no involvement with. As such, she needs to learn to appreciate there is a cost involved.”

“That’s how I saw it,” agreed Amdirlain. “And if I was after magical instructors for myself as well?”

“I’d have the best instructors here as soon as you wanted to start and reimburse them personally,” replied Bahamut. “Though I wouldn’t think you’d need to use Mana.”

“It’s a wasted resource if I don’t develop my skills more,” explained Amdirlain. “True Song isn’t a Power I can simply teach someone I might wish to help in the future but I can teach them magic.”

“Then I’ll see to some personal instructors for you as well. Let me know when you’ve got somewhere for them to stay,” said Bahamut.

I wonder if I can get them working with Yngvarr and the instructors in Nolmar as well.

‘That would cost you another favour, Amdirlain,’ projected Bahamut, answering her unspoken thought. ‘There are implications if instructors I’ve arranged end up involved there. I’m happy to work with you for things mutually beneficial to you and the interests of metallic dragons. However, when your request draws resources into an effort that won’t, I must ensure they’re not taken for granted.’

‘Among the worlds and planes, so many places require help. If you start making exceptions for one, where do you draw the line?’ responded Amdirlain.

‘Not just that, but you’ll understand more if you become a Primordial again,’ replied Bahamut. ‘Do we have an agreement?’

‘Fine,’ agreed Amdirlain continuing to the mental exchange. ‘Not a promise, just an agreement to fulfil a favour. I’ll hold a veto option, but I’ll owe you until it’s repaid.’

‘Good,’ acknowledged Bahamut.

Amdirlain broadcast amusement. ‘I’m not used to others being able to hear my thoughts.’

‘Annoying, isn’t it?’ said Bahamut. ‘You’ll need to learn better discipline before you get free of the curse.’

‘Wait? What about my help with the Formithian invaders?’ questioned Amdirlain suspiciously. ‘Shouldn’t that count as a favour you owe me?’

Bahamut chortled. ‘I’m glad you’re also learning, but you didn’t request a favour before dealing with the issue. You can consider that the price of the lesson.’

‘Can you at least give me a hint as to why it’s important?’ inquired Amdirlain.

Bahamut projected a subtle sense of frustration. ‘Call it an issue with diluting one’s purpose.’

Before Amdirlain could ask more, Bahamut allowed her to sense his withdrawal from her mind and spoke. “Let’s discuss the situation with your monastery, Lady Livia, and the instructors you’ll need.”

The pair quickly got to the nuts and bolts of the outpost's operation and purpose.