Abyssal Road Trip

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

Aitherlar’s room gleamed. The Outlands sunlight, drawn in through dimensional windows across expanses, reflected through columns of multi-hued diamond. Though Amdirlain knew about the construction before she crossed the threshold, she ‌stopped to consider it with sight alone. Still wearing her silvery dress with its belt of looped gold, Aitherlar stood within a crystalline grotto only a hundred metres from the entrance, directing the creation of crystal formations.

Ectoplasm drawn into being through the force of Aitherlar’s intellect twirled spirals in the air, in its wake, glistening facets added to the brilliance of light within the room. The light from the different colours merged at precise angles, resulting in concentrated colours, from patches of restful shadows of deep velvety purple to bright work areas of yellow and red, without a single diamond of the same hue. Tiny strands delicately tweaked the effects among the pillars and diamond arches to create boundary lines of distinct hues between the patches, the physics involved drawing Amdirlain’s smile.

“I hope the space is sufficient, Lady Aitherlar,” said Amdirlain.

A tiny smile twitched Aitherlar’s lips. “While it’s not enough space to stretch out, it’s sufficient for some fun. What is it with the use of a title today? Perhaps I should have you calling me Mother.”

“How would that be orderly?” quipped Amdirlain. “That’s certainly an event out of sequence.”

Aitherlar huffed. “After your mating flight. Given the size of your True Form, I’ve got a list of Dragon variants you could adopt for it.”

We’re not even close to that stage. I thought Mal’s in-laws were bad, asking about kids after the wedding, but Aitherlar takes the cake.

“Did you capture your little succubi?”

“It was a very successful operation,” admitted Amdirlain. “I’ve gained my enemy’s song, which raises some things I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Balnérith is stronger than you had hoped?” asked Aitherlar before Amdirlain could continue.

Amdirlain nodded.

“Given she is far older than you, it’s expected. What’s the biggest challenge you see from the information you’ve gained?”

“I wouldn’t want to cross blades with her, but her spells will also be potent,” advised Amdirlain, mentally projecting the Analysis.

Aitherlar frowned. “I forbid you from dying. Is that clear?”

“I’ll endeavour to avoid that,” Amdirlain replied with a carefully composed expression in place.

“Given her long life, you’ll need to overwhelm her,” noted Aitherlar. “Her skill with Mana-Finesse will only benefit her by enhancing the effects of wards or protections she has in place—it won’t help her directly against your True Song attacks.”

“I wanted advice on patching up some holes in my attributes and increasing my psionics classes,” explained Amdirlain.

“Do you seek advice on an evolved base Class, or preparation for your next Prestige Class?” questioned Aitherlar.

“A fourth Class before I select my Fallen transition,” advised Amdirlain.

Aitherlar frowned thoughtfully. “Come in and sit down. You’re cluttering up the entry, and I dislike clutter.”

A pair of crystal chairs grew from the floor near the boundary of the space in which Aitherlar stood, each just big enough for a single person. When Sarah moved towards one, Amdirlain mischievously followed and perched on her lap.

When Sarah’s arms went around her waist, Aitherlar merely smirked.

I got played.

“You are rebellious around anyone issuing orders or even implicitly directing you unless you ask,” observed Aitherlar. “Please block us from being overhead.”

Amdirlain put the concealments in place and nodded.

“What goal is primary for the Class, and what is secondary?” asked Aitherlar, and she moved to sit on the other chair. “Did you think it was for you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not interested in lecturing,” said Aitherlar, beckoning Amdirlain to start.

Amdirlain ran through the same logic she’d provided to Sarah, but Aitherlar merely wrinkled her nose.

“You need to build on your strengths,” advised Aitherlar. “Your diversity is the challenge, as you have many points you can reinforce, but what else is happening? Your greatest strength should be your True Song, why haven’t you taken a new Class to strengthen it?”

“I’ve received advice that I should strengthen all my options for channelling energy,” informed Amdirlain.

Aitherlar frowned in contemplation. “Alright. While I don’t know your Class names, I’m given to understand most of your classes involve your Ki and True Song, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“There are some evolved base classes that provide a synergy of psionic and Mana progression,” offered Aitherlar. “It might seem odd to most wizards, but in the end, Spell formations are mental patterns that we fill with Mana. One of those classes will increase your magic rating alongside your Mana and Psi pools. It’ll be a matter of what progress you must achieve to access some of them.”

“What’s your recommendation?”

“Other than leaving Balnérith alone for a million years while you close the gap?”

Amdirlain sighed. “Yes, other than that.”

“Bypass her completely. What work she’s been doing in the Abyss, go disassemble it or undo whatever she’s done,” advised Aitherlar. “You don’t have to beat her straight away. You must keep filling in whatever den she’s been digging to stop her roosting.”

“At my current speed, it will take me too long to get down there,” objected Amdirlain. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to retreat from the deepest planes except along their route. If I’m flying slower than them, they can catch me, or I’d need to enter territory controlled by primordials.”

“I see,” acknowledged Aitherlar. “Forget considering classes for now. You have a broad foundation already, and you might unlock more options with training. Let’s tackle this differently. You believe you have three fundamental goals: crushing or imprisoning Balnérith, undoing the work in the Abyss, and increasing your ability to channel energies?”

Amdirlain nodded sharply.

“Wrong.”

“Oh?”

A wry smile twitched the corner of Aitherlar’s mouth. “You have one goal. Once you’re strong enough, everything will be easier. Everything you learn will help you with that, so don’t clutter your day with distracting goals. Which makes your goal what?”

“Learning,” offered Amdirlain.

Aitherlar blew her a kiss. “Well done. I was worried you’d go for getting stronger, but that’s the result, not the focus. Here is the best thing: we can make learning fun. What will you do with the Martial Pavilion at their training session this morning?”

“Link to their minds then, with Harmony and True Song, provide various foes for each that is effectively them fighting themselves,” explained Amdirlain.

Aitherlar’s smile turned predatory. “That is such a fun idea. Is it an original one?”

“The idea is from a game I used to play,” admitted Amdirlain.

“Your story time sessions?” questioned Aitherlar.

Sarah began to snicker, and her cheek pressed tight against Amdirlain’s back.

“Role-playing games,” corrected Amdirlain, giving Sarah’s leg a hard poke. “Story time indeed.”

“I love you,” countered Sarah.

“Beast,” grumbled Amdirlain, fighting down her sudden blush.

“Yes, I am. It’s cute how you blush,” noted Sarah.

Aitherlar smiled approvingly.

“In amongst your other fun, we still have to catch up with Mor’lmes,” offered Sarah.

“Given when he was packing up his desk, we’d need to schedule it directly after lunch to be certain of catching him during his office hours or early afternoon to avoid being too late in the evening,” advised Amdirlain.

“After lunch? Get it handled,” proposed Sarah.

Sarah will see the latest changes.

“Okay. You’ll have to endure my morning face.”

“You’re always fine, even in a Halloween costume,” replied Sarah, reassuringly caressing her back.

“We never did Halloween,” protested Amdirlain.

Sarah shrugged. “Fancy dress.”

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫

With the number of students being escorted her way growing, Amdirlain opened a series of gates along the front of her property that placed them through the training hall to avoid congestion through the double doors. As the masters arrived, Jinfeng greeted each before she introduced them to Amdirlain, who took care to bow in the same fashion. With nearly four thousand uniformed monks spread out in orderly rows across the training hall, it gave Amdirlain the feeling of a martial arts parade.

“There is no need to hold back against the opponents you face,” stated Amdirlain. “You may fight them individually or in groups. Only the first set will remain focused on their initial target until they are felled.”

Master Payam smiled. “I thought this would be a simple individual challenge, Lady Am.”

“In battle, the situation is constantly changing. After the first set, those who let their opponent defeat someone else will sit out the next set,” completed Amdirlain.

Featureless opponents appeared near each person present. Each was the same height and general build as their target, and their skin glistened like the withdrawing tide over the sand. Their attacks had the consistency of a blackjack’s impact. Held together and directed by unheard songs, each took and administered a beating, using attacks from each Monk’s thoughts. Amdirlain’s mental touch stayed with them throughout the training session, allowing them to feel the execution of every attack, block, and dodge as the training session extended. Each sandy figure lasted until it had endured the same damage that would have felled the Monk with their assorted Ki defences. The final damage caused them to burst apart in a dramatic spray to give each winner a satisfactory victory rush.

As the last defeated their opponent, Amdirlain regarded those who had finished first. “Why did you not help your fellows?”

“But-”

“In training, isn’t it important to practise what you would do in the field? I said opponents would remain focused on their initial targets, not that you had to,” instructed Amdirlain. “These are not honourable foes. You are not here training with me to learn to fight honourably. I do not offer advice on honour, only on adapting and surviving. You are here to learn how to adapt, keep each other alive, and win.”

The sandy figures appeared again, each five per cent larger than before with a proportional increase in reach, strength, and health. The seniors’ foes blurred towards the lesser students. Already pummelled by the previous fighting, chaos ensured. The safety measures swiftly whisked away each ‘felled’ student, leaving a chalked outline behind.

When the fight ended, a third of the attendees had technically fallen.

“Who here can use Universal Life?”

A scattering of hands went up, a considerable number among those fallen.

“Is it only a healer’s place to learn it? Would more of you have survived if you’d refreshed yourselves and your fellows between battles? When you are low on energy, look to withdraw from an engagement, but dying with your body filled with unused Ki energy is wasteful. Recover, and we will begin again.”

A regeneration field washed over them, mending deep bruises and assorted other injuries.

Master Payam lined up with the other ten masters and smiled. “Will we have time to exchange pointers, Lady Am?”

“Is that what brought all of you along?”

The twinkle in Master Payam’s gaze was all the answer she needed.

“The masters’ simulacrums will use my style and capabilities.”

In the next round, each Master fought a sand simulacrum of Amdirlain. Things got messy when the first fell. Two on one, the next fell faster in an avalanche that quickly gathered momentum.

“We should have asked Master Cyrus to come along as well,” grunted Payam, as his bruises healed.

In round three, the sandy figures all started as small goblins that held themselves poised for battle.

“Each will respond to vulnerable spots as if they were alive. A new creature will appear from a different species when they’re felled.”

With the resumption of training, the foes shifted through various goblinoid and giant insect species and ran through creatures she’d heard upon thousands of worlds. When the first Giant appeared on the battlefield, the masters rushed to help. Telepathy, Harmony, and Muse’s Insight lay across them through the continual grand melee, and Amdirlain learned in return. She heard Aitherlar join Sarah on the upper observation level, and their mental touch brushed hers to study the approach.

When the last monster they had time for fell, a notification appeared.

[Advanced Telepathy [M] (83->84)

Muse’s Insight [S] (116->117)]

They might not have found that quite fun, but learning can be engaging for all of us.

Amdirlain ensured they were all fed and recovered before she sent them on their way, opening gates across the mountain to ensure timeliness for their next sessions.

When the other masters had left and the last students were streaming out, Jinfeng approached and exchanged salutes.

“Thank you for the instruction today, Sifu,” stated Jinfeng. “It was not what I had expected.”

“Life has given me many surprises,” responded Amdirlain. “I have two questions for you. First, how long will you be teaching here?”

Jinfeng grew contemplative. “I’m unsure ‌Sifu. I feel no need to move on now. Eventually, I know I will need to do so. Neither teaching nor study here is a substitute for the tempering of actual combat, no matter how interesting you make such practice sessions.”

I’ll use Jinfeng’s departure to determine my own. Each day must count since I don’t know how long I’ll be here.

“Hopefully, I can help you progress your capabilities while you’re here,” noted Amdirlain.

“What prompted the question?”

“Just trying to decide how long I’ll stay here teaching,” replied Amdirlain. “It’s not only the attendees who must adapt constantly. If you wish, please extend invitations to everyone who came today for tomorrow.”

“More grand melees?”

“Each day will be different,” corrected Amdirlain.

With another salute, Jinfeng headed on her way.

“Are you planning to take extra company on our travels?” asked Sarah when Amdirlain joined them.

Amdirlain laughed. “No, just setting a random start event. Jinfeng feels settled, so I doubt she’ll leave in the next few years. Even a decade would be short for all I need to do, so I’ll have to work harder by putting the timeline in someone else’s hands. When she leaves, we’ll see what we can find along the shores of Vehtë’s Mediterranean Sea.”

“What’s there?” asked Aitherlar.

“Orhêthurin’s songbook is somewhere on Vehtë. The only issues are I’m not even sure what it looks like and, if it’s like other crystal items of hers, it will be well hidden from Resonance,” offered Amdirlain.

Aitherlar frowned. “How do you expect to find it?”

“I’d better get much better at Clairsentience,” replied Amdirlain.

Her delicate elven features lit up, and Aitherlar clapped happily. “That’s an intention I can get behind.”

How does she keep that enthusiasm? Sarah suggested I ask her.

“I’m sure this will sound like it’s coming from nowhere, but how do you stay involved with the people?”

“We all have now,” replied Aitherlar. “The question isn’t how I stay involved with the shorter-lived. Your question should be, why should I not be involved? I’ve had more nows, but I have no guaranteed future. I can’t tell the Titan what to do in his Spire, he talks to no one. What if he decides the realm ends tomorrow? I have no say in that, do I? I live each day as if it’s my last to learn. Every moment might be the last opportunity to bring more Order to the realm, and even if it’s not, it might be the only opportunity to gain particular insights. Always cherish what you have.”

When the others arrived, Aitherlar mentally called them upstairs and motioned for them to take seats. She waited for them all to settle before looking them over.

“I met with most of you after yesterday’s exercise. So today, I’ll review some theory and cover the end goal.”

Images appeared hovering around them to show humanoid and Dragon brains, with sparks of energy transferring neural networks.

“Thoughts are energy, emotions are energy. Psions typically use particular images to evoke mental techniques because the power of association lets a new practitioner leverage control of that energy. However, that power exists in the mind, not in the image. One doesn’t have to experience a particular event to use a technique. The image of that event or concept forms the reins the individual uses to steer it,” said Aitherlar. “However, reliance upon images or emotional sensations to evoke techniques is a liability as life changes everyone. Trauma can incapacitate a psion, not only when a brain injury is involved but also because any trauma can jolt the mind. A useful image can become too strong or weak.”

Sarah glanced at Amdirlain, who rolled her eyes at all the techniques she’d found new images for in recent sessions.

Aitherlar caught the gesture and motioned to Amdirlain. “Yes, cheeky child, especially when one’s intellect has undergone rapid expansion and trauma. Evoking of all techniques only differs because of the mental energy the images cause to cascade in our thoughts. Today, we’ll start with the energy patterns for simple thought pushes.”

“Does this cause skills to evolve?” asked Nomein.

Aitherlar smiled. “Not straight away. Forming these patterns needs to become as automatic as breathing, not just second nature. Doing so evolves the associated skills to powers, from separate powers to a unified core. Am had Telepathy and moved onto Advanced Telepathy as a Power, so she’s both ahead of you and behind since that Power evolved into an automatic capability without her having to determine how.”

“I’ll need to understand it better so I can evolve them together,” said Amdirlain.

The slow nod Aitherlar offered drew a grunt from Nomein. “Relearning everything.”

“No, you’re not relearning. What you’re going to be doing is fine-tuning,” corrected Aitherlar. “When you invoke the image, open yourself to the energy framework in your mind. I spoke to Sarith yesterday, and she spoke of the defensive grids of thoughts for protection. Instead of the grid being made of images and concepts, you’ll aim to achieve a pattern of pure Psi energy. Each time you invoke a power during practice, feel for the energy framework in your mind, look for how it lays across your brain.”

“Then look to spread the Psi energy ourselves?” asked Lezekus.

The question earned a quick wink from Aitherlar. “Unfortunately, the Titan didn’t enforce draconic runes for the patterns but left it to individual minds. Though these Psi energy frameworks are the same as Spell formations in a way, the energy source and patterns differ.”

“Thus, you can’t just show us the pattern because our minds are formed differently,” Lezekus said.

Aitherlar motioned to Gemiya and Sarith. “Twins, yet different approaches to solving challenges. That is because of how their minds work and Psi energy interacts with the mind, so there are no shortcuts. Unless Amdirlain’s ability to inspire enables you to find it faster.”

“That’s fine for everyone else, but Muse’s Insight doesn’t speed up my learning,” grumbled Amdirlain playfully.

Gemiya laughed. “No, but you can hear the powers inside yourself. We can’t.”

“With some powers, the mental energy in the techniques is at a finer level of detail than I can hear,” corrected Amdirlain.

“Get good,” huffed Sarah.

Amdirlain pouted playfully. “So mean.”

“Might I join in the lesson?” requested Dareios.

“Of course,” Aitherlar readily agreed. “It’ll be fun to train a Celestial properly.”

♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫

The morning session produced some progress, but it didn’t distract Amdirlain from what she’d agreed to undertake. Nerves had her in knots when Sarah and Gilorn vanished to Qil Tris. The call of the summoning device soon followed, and she allowed herself to be drawn into the conduit between planes.

Before Amdirlain hit the threshold at the end of the summoning conduit, she closed her eyes to avoid Sarah’s gaze. No sooner than she felt the circle’s constriction settle around her than it vanished. With Amdirlain still in her True Form, the circle’s removal caused her body to expand to full size. The wind that raced through the winter grass that surrounded her brought the scent of late snow from the southern mountains, and to the northwest, birds fished in the nearby waters. Along the curve of its shore to the north, she heard the southern estates of Osaphis. The busy city had expanded south around the training complex grounds but kept clear of the military base and its entry into the ghost caverns.

“You have grown,” offered Sarah lightly. “That circle couldn’t have been comfortable.”

With the scent of a nearby lake layered under the foul soot of her smoking wings, Amdirlain transformed. Quickly, she cleaned the lingering aroma and restored the ground that the summoning circle had compressed. “The magic ensures I take on a proportional form.”

Gilorn hovered nearby, just above the brown grass.

As the wind ruffled through Amdirlain’s azure blue fur, Sarah smiled. “I think you might be a little recognisable.”

“Habit,” huffed Amdirlain. She altered her fur into a striped grey and brown tabby, but her scent matched that of her silver-furred J persona. Fabricate created loose blue sweats suitable for the later winter and a bright yellow backpack.

“Didn’t know you were a nun,” quipped Sarah.

“That joke is old,” groaned Amdirlain.

Sarah’s willowy Human form changed into a red-furred Catfolk wearing red hunting leather, and Amdirlain grinned.

A shrug changed the leather black, but the fur remained the same hue. “All things are relative. Shall we get going?”

“You two go ahead. There is no point in me coming after all,” said Gilorn. “I’ll concentrate on the ghost caverns.”

“Any initial thoughts?”

Gilorn tinkled optimistically. “From their sound, starving them should be possible, but it will depend on how many portals we need to open and where to connect them. My primary concern is that if the caverns don’t seal themselves, background Mana might allow a Spawning Abomination to form over a long period.”

They reappeared at an entry point on the eastern edge of the Triumvirate Campus. In the local midafternoon, no one lingered near the laen plinth, and the pair started along the pathways towards the Wizard’s tower.

As she approached, Amdirlain duplicated the wardstones of two professors leaving the campus, handing one off to Sarah. Casually looping arms, the pair walked in silence, with the rhythmic click of their claws on the walkway counting out the steps. Their passage through the campus’ layered wards allowed Amdirlain a clear sense of them, and she reassessed the care she’d once needed to take with them.

Is it because I can see the weak points now, or because I’m stronger?

On the final turn towards the main Wizard building, Sarah nudged her and nodded towards a hexagon ahead. A musician playing a complex piece on a lap harp sat on a small side stage. Another student held a trace unit among the audience, and her thoughts focused on collecting the performers' trail.

I didn’t tell them what to call it, and it’s only logical that they call it something suitable for them. Trail versus recording, who am I to judge if it makes sense to them?

“You should have brought your harp along and busked on one of the other stages,” suggested Sarah, as mischief lit her theme. “You might have made enough to get us an afternoon snack.”

Amdirlain huffed. “You’d have to organise your own food. I’d be lucky to get enough to cover my snack.”

The mental snickers Sarah released earned her a light tail swat.

The preserved patron banners still hung in the tower’s entryway, but a new banner was among them that Amdirlain didn’t recognise. With the wards unconcerned by their presence, Amdirlain headed for the lift. Their ride to the floor that contained Mor’lmes’ office didn’t take long, and Amdirlain led the way along the corridor past other university staff. The sign beside the door indicated they were outside his office hours, but with his assistant and secretary absent, Amdirlain tripped the door’s lock.

“Did they have it?” Mor’lmes called.

“That depends. Have you been having fun with the toy I provided?” Amdirlain replied as Sarah closed the door behind them.

“J?” queried Mor’lmes.

Amdirlain stepped into his office doorway and casually looked over the cluttered writing boards, wall shelves, and cupboard tops. “You keep your desk immaculate, but everywhere else is messy. If I’d dropped that memory crystal on a shelf, you’d have never found it.”

Mor’lmes had stood up; his black fur bristled in surprise, his ears perked straight, and his nostrils twitched as he took in her scent. “How many forms do you have, J? Or should I say Am?”

“Either is fine. How are Wha’sin and the children doing Mor’lmes?”

“They’re doing well. Your crystal surprised me. From your message, I thought you would never return,” replied Mor’lmes.

“I set things up so I wouldn’t need to return,” corrected Amdirlain. “If I had kept the training complexes the same, I wouldn’t have. But I figured out some improvements for them and another issue.”

“This latest one is vast. The crystal had the details, but why is there a change?”

“The changes aren’t over yet, which is why I thought we should talk,” said Amdirlain.

His ears flattened slightly, but Mor’lmes motioned to the visitor’s chairs. “The changes you started continue to ripple outwards, so why are you here to start more?”

“It concerns the training complexes and the graves,” Amdirlain replied somberly.

“Is the danger from them getting worse?” asked Mor’lmes, his fingers gripping the desk’s edge.

Amdirlain smiled. “We believe we have a solution, but we need to make some arrangements to prevent your people from losing strength.”

Mor’lmes ears twitched in relief. “Will you stay afterwards to answer some questions?”

“That will depend on the questions.”

“Just on the way you’ve got these new training sites laid out,” clarified Mor’lmes. “There were some places whose purpose we don’t understand. There wasn’t anything like them in the old training facilities.”

‘They’ve no concept of dungeons and exploring ancient ruins, and I’m not even dressed the part,’ projected Sarah.

“As long as you fill us in the details of how things have been,” countered Amdirlain. “I hadn’t expected my message to be shared for years, if ever.”

The uplift of his whiskers signalled Mor’lmes’s amusement. “Ladies Cla’nes and Jan’era went straight to the studio of that Al’stri fellow. They had it on repeat whenever other programs weren’t running. I heard they made quite a bit from people watching it. Did you notice something within the lobby?”

“The new patron’s banner?”

“Lady Jan’era made loads of coin licensing the trail and memory crystal techniques everywhere she could,” explained Mor’lmes. “The other patrons had no choice but to add her pride to the council. I hear she’s been advocating for a lot of changes.”

Amdirlain didn’t keep her laughter contained. “And Lady Cla’nes?”

“She turned them down. I’ve sometimes seen her on the receiver, walking beside the Patriarch at functions.”

“Does she have an official title?” asked Sarah.

“I believe she’s been cleaning up the military for him.”

From spymaster of her organisation to that of a country. Her bodyguard was formerly a member of the Matriarch’s military.

“I noticed your daughter’s concert shirt,” noted Amdirlain. “Does she torment you with particular songs on repeat?”

“Wha’sin took them all to Jal’krin’s performance last spring. Fortunately, he’s released so many instrumental pieces that I can at least get her to change sets,” replied Mor’lmes. “Now, what have you discerned?”

From composer to performer, good on Jal’krin. His song isn’t in the city, so maybe he’s touring.

With a steadying breath, Amdirlain started taking Mor’lmes through the issues with souls travelling through the graves and their options.