Amdirlain’s PoV - Limbo
Duurth silently led her across a sky bridge between buildings and down a path that ran to an inner courtyard. There he had introduced her to Master Tenzin and excused himself.
The expression on the female’s Githzerai face had been initially one of sceptical distaste, but Amdirlain caught the hint of a mental exchange with Master Duurth that washed it away. With Duurth’s departure, Tenzin had looked Amdirlain over without any apparent trace of her assessment. The Githzerai female was only slightly shorter than Amdirlain. Her deep mustard-yellow skin and black hair weren’t unusual among the Githzerai, but the angularity of her features—accented by her stern demeanour—became heroic chic gaunt.
Master Tenzin moved off without a word, and only a broadcast thought warned Amdirlain to follow. Her assigned room was on the dormitory’s bottom floor—almost the furthest from the courtyard—with a tiny window high on one wall for light and ventilation. The room was barely large enough to host the pallet bed that was its sole furnishing.
“Hold out your hands,” Tenzin instructed after Amdirlain looked inside the room.
Amdirlain held out her hands together, and one after another, clothing items appeared atop them. They were the same light grey robes and pants Amdirlain had seen Monk novices wearing, topped off by a pair of simple shoes.
“Know meals are signalled by three rapid chimes—everyone in a dormitory’s year eats together, and you will do likewise. Know you are to follow only the schedule that Master Duurth passes along through me; no alterations are allowed,” said Tenzin. “Is this understood?”
“Yes, Master Tenzin. I was informed a stable routine was essential,” replied Amdirlain, wondering what she’d missed in their rapid exchange.
“Know the meals chimes are three quick rings, and you will attend each; the refectory is located up one set of stairs, at the dormitory’s far end. Know that an entry Novice neither accepts, nor issues any invitation to exchange pointers. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Master Tenzin.”
“Know that you should change and spend your time until the last meal meditating. Know that I will introduce you to your escort to the healing sessions afterwards. Is this understood?”
“Yes, Master Tenzin.”
Tenzin gestured for her to step within the room, and once Amdirlain was within, Tenzin closed the door, and soft footsteps moved away at an unhurried pace.
“Torm, I got Rachel free from Hell. Now everything I’d bottled up is coming undone. My Mind Palace has turned from the starscape I showed Yngvarr into a nightmare. I’m seeking help from the Githzerai. Let Ebusuku know if you need anything. I don’t know how long it will take me to settle everything.”
Amdirlain’s Message Spell slipped away between Planes, and she changed into the provided clothes—unsurprised they fit perfectly—and stored everything else in Inventory away from Limbo’s influence.
The moment she went to kneel in meditation, fear knotted tight through her guts, and the dimness of the chamber threatened a consuming blackness that left her gasping from memory. The smooth-walled room around her morphed into the Sisterhood’s oubliette cell, the floor loomed into a pit, and the slits high on the wall blurred into smooth stone. Another’s will fighting within the stone against her awareness broke her free of panic and pulled her mind free from the image. The moment she broke clear of it, the floor, bedding, and window returned. Still, she nearly ripped the door off its hinges to change the room’s lighting further.
“Fuck.”
Shaping a doorstop, Amdirlain propped the door open and sat cross-legged on the pallet bed; she was barely seated when hurried footsteps came towards her chamber from the stairwell.
When she appeared, Master Tenzin frowned at the door’s position and Amdirlain. “Know you may not alter your room.”
“My apologies. It wasn’t intentional. The room’s walls and its dimness stirred an unpleasant memory, and I got caught up in it.”
Tenzin said nothing, but the room’s lighting suddenly changed and a bright light shone from the ceiling, washing out the dim light from the window.
“Know the Anarch maintaining the dormitory will keep the light present now. Do you still wish the door to remain open?” asked Tenzin, motioning to the doorstop.
“Yes, please,” Amdirlain said quickly but tried to calm her tone. “If it will not cause a problem. I’ve been in closed spaces for months on end, so I wasn’t expecting the reaction I just had.”
“Know the problem is not for me, but others may disturb you from curiosity once they are aware of your presence. Know that their curiosity might not be the politest, given our avoidance of other species.”
“I’ll do my best to remain polite, regardless,” assured Amdirlain.
“Know that I’ve heard of your left-handed conversation from Master Duurth. Know that it is best if your politeness extends further given the lack of control you just presented,” cautioned Tenzin, with only the slightest of frowns.
“Since I can avoid exchanges, that shouldn’t be an issue, Master Tenzin,” said Amdirlain, giving the stern-faced Master a nod. “Would it be alright for me to meditate in the courtyard?”
“Know I do not permit Novices unsupervised use of it; it would be best if you meditate within your room,” Tenzin stated, and she walked away.
Amdirlain sought the calmness of the Ki mist that had held Souls still within her, not to still herself, but to let its drifting motions guide her meditation. Peace came only in fits and starts, each time it slipped away, it proved harder to regain. The hour chime had rung out twice before sounds echoing from the corridor showed the other Novices had returned, and a curious Novice peeked inside.
“What exactly are you?”
The words from the young female Githzerai came in a rush, before she took a long step back, her eyes widening. The Githzerai was the youngest Amdirlain had seen and barely stood one-ten centimetres, and her features showed the delicacy of youth. Instead of the angularity, she’d seen in adult features, spare flesh softened the sharpness of the lines, but she still possessed the upturned nose, and pointed chin. Her hazel gaze was intently focused, and ran over Amdirlain from head to foot and back. The lighter tone of her eyes was a stark contrast to her jet-black hair.
[Name: Gemiya
Species: Githzerai
Class: None
Health: 6
Defence: 14
Melee Attack Power: 10
Combat Skills: Unarmed [B] (1) - Racial Innate Psion Powers
Details: Enrolled in the Monastery of the Will’s Hand after she turned twelve to receive training as a Monk and Psion.]
“I’m Amdirlain. Masters Jarithä and Duurth insisted I enrol as a Novice,” Amdirlain said, the young girl’s reaction making it easy to stay calm.
Gemiya’s eyebrows raised high matching her change in tone. “Why would they accept an outsider as a Novice?”
“You’d have to ask them. Master Tenzin assigned me this room and these garments,” said Amdirlain, giving a light tug on the seam of her pants.
The girl snorted at the suggestion, and the mention of a third Master’s name closed her mouth with a snap. “Know that my name is Gemiya, and you speak oddly, Amdirlain. Should I take it you’re female, since you’re in the girl’s dormitory?”
“Yes, I am female, Gemiya. My native language is very different, so I’m sure I sound funny to you,” replied Amdirlain.
Gemiya frowned and glanced down the corridor before turning back to regard Amdirlain. “Know if you need to wash, you’ve enough time before the evening meal chimes—if you’re quick.”
“I’m alright, thank you. The refectory is one level up. Is that correct?”
“Yes. Know you need to turn left and follow the corridor to the end; if you do not need to wash, I’ll see you there,” replied Gemiya and she continued along the corridor.
When she heard the quick chimes, a parade of footsteps headed upstairs, Amdirlain fought her desire to stay away before rising to follow the fading sounds.
The refectory’s six tables sat arranged in a crescent formation beyond the entryway focused on the door, so she entered smack in the middle of the arc. The moment Amdirlain stepped inside, the room went still with everyone present having a clear line of sight on her—especially given her height difference. Though she wasn’t sure why, she was in a refectory full of twelve-year-old girls, unless Githzerai matured far differently to humans. Master Tenzin, standing near the door, pointed her to the closest vacant seat.
“Know that will be your assigned seat until otherwise instructed Novice Amdirlain. Know that your duty assignments and classes are on the same schedule as that table’s Novices.”
Giving Tenzin a polite nod, Amdirlain moved to take her spot, ignoring the wide-eyed looks she received. The table’s general vibe of disbelief warred with the curiosity apparent from only two of the girls. Gemiya was seated across the table from Amdirlain, with her attention fixed on the girl sitting to Amdirlain’s right. A brunette-haired Githzerai, similar in appearance to Gemiya, frantically glanced between Master Tenzin and Amdirlain with a look of outrage.
“Master Tenzin, surely she doesn’t need to sit with us,” objected the girl, barely beating another from speaking up.
Master Tenzin regarded the girl flatly, and steel crept into her tone. “Know that Amdirlain is here in our monastery at the invitation of Master Jarithä, and is a member of the same table as you now—for all matters, Novice Sarith. Know that this is not only for this year, but after your outburst, it will be for every year Amdirlain stays. Is that clear?”
Every year? How long do they expect this to take?
“Know we’ll ensure she knows what she needs to know, Master Tenzin,” Gemiya quickly said, cutting off Sarith.
Sarith had opened her mouth again, but closed it quickly and glared at Gemiya in frustration.
“Know you can join the duty table in serving the meal, Novice Sarith,” Tenzin declared, her gaze not having left the girl.
At her words, the girls from the second table along the crescent stood and filed to a hutch set in the wall away from the entry. Moving past it, they collected trays with bowls of food and drinks that they delivered smoothly. A few girls that slipped in after they started moving nodded politely to Master Tenzin and rapidly took their seats.
“Know Novice Amdirlain that you will accompany me following the meal,” Tenzin stated, watching the Novices start to eat from her position by the door.
Her stern gaze took away whatever temptation Sarith might have had to hasten the delivery of Amdirlain’s meal. The large bowls contained only a vegetarian stew that reminded Amdirlain of a documentary on Shaolin monks, and they’d filled the mugs with clean water. Though she had no need for the food, Amdirlain ate what they’d set before her; the taste and routine of it oddly calming.
Though she looked like she wanted to spit in Amdirlain’s food, Sarith ate quickly and without further drama. The clean-up of the meals followed the same flow in reverse, except it was the next table along that collected everything.
“When do you have time to eat, Master Tenzin?” Amdirlain asked, standing as the Novices departed.
“Know that I eat prior to the sittings to avoid opportunities for any Novice seeking trouble,” replied Tenzin.
Motioning Amdirlain to follow, she led the way up through levels where Amdirlain spotted older Novices, their path eventually leading them to the top floor of the dormitory. An unmarked door at the end opened into a chamber with the walls subtly decorated in a fashion similar to where she’d met Master Jarithä. Unlike Master Jarithä’s room, it had a balcony overlooking the inner courtyard and a door on either side. One opened into a bedroom, while the other appeared to be a personal kitchen.
“Know that you have met your guide previously, a student Anarch named Domleha,” said Tenzin.
“I remember her. Master Duurth asked if I’d allow her to maintain a garden platform I’d made for practice,” said Amdirlain, suddenly curious about how well she’d managed.
“The one with the strange red flowers belongs to you?” Tenzin asked, a flicker of curiosity in her gaze quickly stilled.
“If Domleha has been maintaining it for this long, it’s more hers than mine now,” replied Amdirlain. “Is there a particular reason they placed me in a dormitory with twelve-year-olds?”
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“Know that Master Duurth noted your mental techniques wrestling off fear’s manifestations—while effective—needs refinement,” answered Tenzin. “Is it not correct you had very little training once you unlocked your Psion Class?”
“I’ve tried to practice techniques, but so far, I’ve only managed a few,” acknowledged Amdirlain.
“Know that I require a list of those techniques, along with your intentions towards mastery,” Tenzin said.
Amdirlain considered her momentarily, but Tenzin just sat down on a chair she made appear and waited patiently. “All techniques have been combat-orientated; breaking an enemy’s focus, slowing a foe’s motions, coating surfaces with ectoplasm, battle precognition, telekinetic punches, disrupting a foe’s musculature, telekinetic deflections, energy ray, clairvoyance, sense link and taunt. I need to develop techniques around hampering foes that can move quickly or Teleport, and general combat along with reconnaissance, so I’m not going into situations blind. I’ve been using my Telepathy and clairvoyance to help coordinate combat teams.”
Tenzin quickly took notes on a wax tablet and only looked at Amdirlain again as she set her stylus aside. “Know that I will plan your course of study while the healing process is underway; we’ll discuss it tomorrow. I take it there is no need to explain why you will not be exchanging pointers?”
“They’re all children. I wouldn’t want to risk hurting any of them,” said Amdirlain, anger burning along her nerves. She stopped with a wince when Tenzin frowned at the harshness in her tone. “My apologies, the thought of hurting them, no, I wouldn’t even spar with them gently—I’m off balance.”
Giving her a nod, Tenzin continued on. “Know the main routine for each day is: upon waking, meditation in the courtyard, first meal, physical training, second meal, Psion studies, general lessons, third meal. Know that in this schedule, there are breaks for washing and for handling small duties; in the evening, unlike the other Novices attending their duties, will be your healing sessions.”
“They’re going to occur every day?” Amdirlain asked, worry about the mess she’d seen in her Mind Palace gnawing at her again.
“Know it is likely to be most days for some time, but that will be for the Master Healer to advise you on,” stated Tenzin. “Know that any day you’re not attending those sessions, you’ll assist the others with their duties between the last meal and lights out.”
* * *
The wait for Domleha hadn’t been long, fortunately, given the silence Tenzin let fall. And the moment she arrived, they’d both been shooed on their way. Domleha was still wearing the brown robes that Amdirlain had seen her in before, but carried herself more confidently.
“Domleha, I hope your training has been going well,” Amdirlain said, the moment Tenzin’s door closed.
“Know that it has been, and I’ve found your platform useful,” said Domleha with a pleased smile. “Know Master Healer Ellniya arrived only prior to the meal; I’m to take you to the quarters they provided her.”
“She arrived?” asked Amdirlain, starting in surprise.
“Know she came at Master Duurth’s request, but she is not a member of the monastery,” said Domleha. “Know rumour hasn’t spread regarding why she arrived, but I’ve heard the monastery healers are looking forward to consulting with her.”
Domleha said nothing further and led the way in silence through several buildings until they reached a structure Amdirlain recognised. It housed Amdirlain’s original guest room on the upper levels, but Domleha headed along the side and knocked on a door.
“Enter, Domleha.”
The woman’s voice warbled with age, and Domleha immediately followed her instruction and motioned Amdirlain to follow. Instead of the usual minimalistic furnishings, a variety of comfortable-looking couches and padded benches occupied the chamber. The air was rich with the odour of burning incense and blooms of flowering herbs that sat in vases about the chamber.
A white-haired Githzerai sat on one couch with her feet tucked in under a thick blanket that matched the colour of her light blue robe. Her skin was pale and wrinkled such that the usual Githzerai freckles stood out as age spots.
[Name: Ellniya
Species: Githzerai
Class: Psychic Surgeon / Master Psychic / Master Healer
Level: 112 / 112 / 112]
“Know you can sit where you please Amdirlain, but I’ll not be twisting about to face you,” said Ellniya, waving a hand at the various chairs. “Know you have my thanks Domleha; please extend my regards to your grandparents when you speak to them next.”
Domleha smiled and slipped from the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Rather than mess about, Amdirlain took a seat where Ellniya could see her easily, the healer’s pale grey gaze seemed to press into her the moment she sat.
“How does this work? Do I let you into my mind and you take care of the mess I’ve made?” asked Amdirlain nervously.
“Know I doubt that wrestling the knots out of you at my age would be good for my health, given your raw strength,” quipped Ellniya. “Know you’ll need to learn to deal with the psychic manifestations of your own emotions.”
“What do you mean? I thought it was my suppressed memories, and others I’d gained from Soul Sight, messing things up?” Amdirlain enquired, and leant forward on her seat.
“What do you believe has happened?”
“I had everything locked away and its spilled loose. Now all my memories keep being prompted at the smallest similarity.”
“Know that isn’t correct, more that you’ve too much suppressed emotion. Know that energy brings the manifestations, they’re not memories acting out on their own,” stated Ellniya.
“Master Jarithä said the memories would have to be examined to heal properly.” recounted Amdirlain.
“Know that when you come to understand a memory properly, your emotions can no longer misuse it, and we can get to the truth of your pain,” explained Ellniya. “Did you recognise any of the images that were present in your Mind Palace?”
“The tar looked like a lake below a portal to an Abyssal Plane, where I found a Jungle Giant Clan trapped. The faces beneath it looked like constellations I had inside my old Mind Palace made up of sealed memories from past lives. I’ve seen Souls trapped underwater similarly in an Abyssal swampland; visible but not quite able to touch the surface, with bubbles of water rising from their mouths. Various types of Demons prey on them, torment them, lay their young inside them even,” replied Amdirlain, shuddering at the thought of the Meñde Demon at the storehouse in Avaris.
“Know that while I can’t see past your concealments myself, Master Jarithä has informed me you’re a Fallen,” explained Ellniya. “Know I will need knowledge of your situation if I’m to help you effectively. How did you earn your state?”
“I wasn’t a Celestial—I was Mortal and cursed to the Abyss. When I tried to break free, the curse’s form twisted me into a Fallen rather than let go,” Amdirlain said. The immediate look of disbelief from Ellniya had her counting quietly to herself.
“What were you in the Abyss before you tried to break free?”
Amdirlain ground her teeth and fought with the urge to walk away. “I emerged or spawned—whatever term you want to use—into the Abyss, as a Succubus.”
“Know that Master Duurth informed me you follow a spiritual Monk Class quite different in approach to the Githzerai Monks. Is this correct?”
“If you know that, why don’t you believe I was Mortal?” asked Amdirlain. “A Demon can’t pursue that Class.”
“Know that at my age there are few things that surprise me, but this is one. Know I will look to keep an open mind about your situation if you will do the same,” replied Ellniya, her unfussed gaze not straying from Amdirlain. “Your statement took me by surprise, but why was your immediate reaction anger? Did you expect me to know everything about your Class?”
“Maybe this is a bad idea-”
Ellniya motioned Amdirlain to stay seated and interrupted her. “Know the common theme in your image is that of things trapped. Do you agree that it’s understandable for someone cursed to feel trapped?”
“Yes,” replied Amdirlain, and forced her hands flat against her legs to stop them tugging at the robe’s edge.
“Know I was told you had been restraining these emotions for decades. What had occurred just prior to your control slipping?”
“I’d gotten a friend free from her curse,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Would you tell me more about this friend?” asked Ellniya and she relaxed back fully on her couch. “Know I’m not going anywhere, so you have plenty of time for your tale, us old folks sleep only a little.”
“I shouldn’t be telling her secrets,” objected Amdirlain, shifting uncomfortably.
“Is she a recent friend or someone you shared a past life with?”
“The same person cursed her,” offered Amdirlain, unsure exactly what would be safe to tell her.
“How is it she is free and you’re cursed still?”
“He used different wording for the curses. She’d already fulfilled her curse, mine’s open-ended but I knew that before I tried to get her free, and it worked,” said Amdirlain.
“How did that make you feel?”
“Angry, jealous, sickened by myself. Take your pick.”
“Know that anger, jealousy, and self-hatred are all three very negative emotions,” said Ellniya.
“I didn’t say I hated myself,” argued Amdirlain, and she rose in frustration.
“Know you didn’t need to, but sickened is a powerful reaction to have for a momentary fit at another’s good fortune. Know you can leave if you wish or you can sit and continue talking—the choice is yours,” said Ellniya, her tone calm but her gaze not leaving Amdirlain. An emphasis on leave implied it wouldn’t just be this session Amdirlain would be leaving.
“Choices, I’m trapped by others’ choices,” grumbled Amdirlain
Ellniya nodded understandingly. “Is that not the case for all that care about others? Know that the choice of what you do right now is yours. Do you wish to care for yourself, or let your pain consume you?”
The sensation of hair under her fingers drew Amdirlain’s attention to the grip she’d had on her braid, and she slowly released it. “I need to get better. I’ll stay.”
Only after Amdirlain had settled back down on her chair, did Ellniya speak again. “Would you tell me about what happened when you emerged into the Abyss?”
* * *
Torm’s PoV - Letveri
The tormented words of her message were barely a whisper of sound against the background of the ship’s noise. The vessel’s motion continually brought back memories that held less hurt than her tone.
My shield brother’s scream pierced my mind in time with the agony of flames that clung to us, yet left the deck untouched. Blackness creeping across my vision mingled with the flames separating me from Poseidon’s last High Priest. An inhalation left my lungs scorched, yet I leapt before my legs could buckle. The hilt’s wire wrap melted across my hand, keeiing it secure as the blade cut deep into his throat. In that instant, the world stilled and inhaled, only to explode and throw me into the storm-tossed sea that eagerly drew me down. The last awareness in that life, the weight of armour and sword melted across skin, dragging me past the broken Kraken’s drifting tentacles.
I’d have traded that pain a thousandfold to allow me a way to ease her pain—even a sliver.
“Next time I travel anywhere, I’m going with someone that can send messages. Never thought I’d want Wizard as a Class.”
Evoking a Power my evolution had provided, a little Gate opened, and the golden light of a Lantern Archon with Týr’s symbol across its meshwork suddenly filled the cabin.
Ironically, its light made the close confines of the lacquered walls close in further still. Old soot from the lantern’s wick had stained its glass and left marks upon the cabin’s ceiling. Having folded up the hammock from lack of need, it still didn’t compensate enough to let the cabin feel anything but tiny.
“Hi Torm, this is a small room. What do you need me to do?”
The Archon's chiming voice washed the memory’s sharp pain away. “I’d like a message relayed to Solar Ebusuku in Lady Amdirlain’s service. Please request Ebusuku to pass a message to Amdirlain that I got her news, and if she needs me, to let me know. Presently, the captain says we’re at least another week from the nearest island inhabited by one of the Elven peoples. Once there, I’ll return to the Outlands, regardless.”
When they disappeared the irony that it’s a duty for Týr, at Amdirlain’s behest, that kept me from finding out what was going on, weighed upon my shoulders.
“Rachel’s free, so what happened that makes her sound so stricken?”
The creaking of the ship’s hull provided no answer, and I could only pray and wait.
* * *
Isa’s PoV - Duskstone
The Dwarven wards’ song possessed a military drum cadence, but its beat didn’t settle the trembling in my hands. Setting the scroll down before it tore apart, and closing my eyes didn’t blot out the words.
Sage’s song was more calming than the unceasing beat of the wards, and I can feel his solemn gaze resting on me. “How far through are you?”
“Not far, up to the cave she describes filled with Song. I never had my wings cut from me repeatedly or had to fight off strange urges from my body. Does it get worse?”
“Yes, much worse,” Sage admitted reluctantly.
“No chance she’s coming to meet with us soon?” I asked quickly.
His gaze didn’t shift from its calmness, but his lips twitched into a momentary frown. “Not according to a Message Ebusuku received. Sidero is on Letveri dealing with the Thri-kreen, and Amdirlain has now headed for the Githzerai monastery.”
Sighing, I leaned back in the chair, wondering how badly I messed things up. “Who else is on Letveri?”
“Some of Lady Amdirlain’s Hound Archons, Torm, a baker’s dozen Valkyries in Týr’s service that have Wizard knowledge, plus Sidero and Klipyl.”
Only one I’d heard mentioned in any discussion, the other piqued my curiosity at its inflections. “Torm is the Celestial, but who’s Klipyl?”
“Klipyl is a Succubus that swore to Amdirlain’s service as a Priestess,” said Sage.
I’m not sure how long I sat blinking.
“Amdirlain has a Demoness serving her?” I winced at my astonished tone and remembered how I accused her of being blind to the possibility of Ilya being good.
Sage gave a reassuring nod, and his gaze was calm. “She has a number. She is the Lady of the Accursed. You mentioned she clashed with Ilya, but she still gave Ilya a choice and freed her. Why would you expect her to reject someone else seeking to better themselves? Perhaps you should keep reading. The situation might make more sense with all the information.”
The blandness in his tone made me curious about the surprises that were hidden ahead.
“I’ll pick a scroll at random, buster,” I grumbled.
“Much won’t make sense out of context,” murmured Sage, and his gaze refocused on his scroll.
Grabbing up a scroll from the set, I closed my eyes and let it unfurl with a rush of energy, stopping at random I let my eyes open.
“What’s the big deal about finding an Anar Glinnel?”
Sage’s glance only flickered across the scroll in my hand, and noting the ones I skipped, he frowned at me. “Figures you’d jump about. Are you a Glinnel?”
“It’s the first Class I took,” I said, and explained when Sage’s curiosity was apparent. “I tried to sing along to some notes in Hell intentionally and ended up swallowing back a mouthful of blood. Then Mr Message said, congratulations, have a prize, but I understood nothing about classes then; I’d had a mental gap about the Profile mixed in with other things. I remembered it after Ilya finally showed me my imprint. Why?”
“There is another Elven race trapped in the Abyss, and only an Anar Glinnel can unseal the Lómë Royal Tower,” Sage said, setting his pencil aside. The smooth lines of its shape distracted me, and I wanted to know where he gets modern HB pencils from in this place.
“I’m a Glinnel, but no idea if I’m an Anar.”
“If you were a Lómë, you wouldn’t have been on your Earth. Only the Anar Souls were freed to roam from the Titan’s reality, and only Anar or Lómë can become Glinnel,” said Sage, and I could see how the pieces joined.
“I need to go to the Abyss? That’s crazy, no way that’s safe now,” I said and waved him off when he went to object. “Before, we used to raid Planes to mess up various Demon Lord’s forces, but I’d be a glowing neon sign.”
“The Lómë have places in Ternòx that are safe havens. Amdirlain and some others know them well enough to open Gates directly to them,” argued Sage.
“Why don’t they just leave then?”
“There is all the required context I was talking of,” Sage said and gestured to the scroll I’d been reading previously. “Perhaps reading in order makes sense now.”
“Smartypants, such a meanie.”
Ignoring his amusement, I went back to Amdirlain’s account and re-read her nasty guide’s reaction to the Grotto’s Song, and wondered how long she’d put up with his shit. What does she capitalise song for? Every place has music about it.
Still, Lêdhins got J to play at dominatrix; I wonder if Sarah found that funny? Did she even tell her?