Amdirlain’s PoV - Limbo - Monastery of Will’s Hand
Elliyna’s door opened to reveal a room nearly empty of its usual clutter of furnishings.
“Leaving already?”
“Know I wished to be packed ahead of the year-end break. Do you still plan to practice your pattern for the twenty days?” Elliyna asked from the sole long couch present in the room.
Amdirlain took a half step towards a seat that would make it awkward for Elliyna to observe her, only to laugh at the sharp glare she received. “Master Cyrus said that constant practice should help me make considerable progress.”
The Healer snorted in amusement when she settled into the armchair opposite Elliyna’s couch. “Know I agree with Liranë—you’re a brat.”
“I’ll never argue that point,” replied Amdirlain cheerfully.
“Will you attempt cycling your Psi Reserves as well, or are you currently satisfied with the improvement that it’s caused without even attempting it?” asked Elliyna.
“I’ll hold off. The last half-year since I started cycling has seen my Psi energy jump ahead, and some of the obsidian seems to be more resistant to removal because of it.”
“Know I believe your expectation it will become harder causes it to be so, it should be easier with practice. Know I didn’t say having greater reserves would increase your scarring; I warned it would give any manifestations greater strength, and you’ve already quelled the tar pits,” argued Elliyna. “Any more progress with the past lives?”
“I remembered being a sea monster last night,” Amdirlain practically chirped, leaning forward excitedly in her chair.
Elliyna gave a start of surprise at her reaction. “It excites you having a memory of being a monster?”
Amdirlain pulled an image from the memory together and passed it to Elliyna. The perspective showed a column of pinkish-white—a strange sea anemone— holding itself steady with strange undulating motions within a crystal chamber extending upwards from the seafloor. Unblinking eyes were surrounded protectively by tendrils along the course of its body. While at the end, they writhed about as if to feed the flexing, grinding maw.
“I shouldn’t say, monster. I was a scientist among an aquatic species trying to determine the nature of the void above,” amended Amdirlain. “What is that enormous light that appears and disappears so regularly, or the little ones that replace it and the swarms of things that swim in the void? All great mysteries to be answered: sun, stars, and birds. Isn’t it interesting that what we take as normal can be so strange when viewed differently?”
The sights of the maw didn’t distract Elliyna from Amdirlain’s remarks, and she fixed her with an uncompromising glare. “Does that include the perspective of not believing all the blame lies with you?”
Her arm transformed back to normal, and Amdirlain sat back with a smile. “That’s still a work in progress, but I’m getting there.”
“Did this memory contain a trauma?”
“No, more a triumph. They’d successfully extended a tower out into the void without its viewing platform losing integrity. Long hours of work at the fire-seam forges in the dark regions finally paid off,”
“If you’re getting snippets of these memories to learn lessons from past lives, what is this one telling you?”
“Either I need lots of work, or I got excited about a phallic erection, and it was substituting for a sex dream.”
“Not the possibility that your lives have had their share of successes as well? Know that perhaps you are seeing them now your healing has progressed,” offered Elliyna.
“Is twenty days out of Limbo enough to stabilise the advancement of the chaos within you?”
Elliyna huffed at her for the blatant subject change, but still answered the question. “Twenty days in the Elemental Conflux is longer than time spent elsewhere because of the pressure of the forces.”
“I’d like to try something to see if it can help,” said Amdirlain, pushing past the hesitation Elliyna’s reverence for the Raven Queen caused her she offered an Allegiance Bond.
The old Healer tilted her head and eyed Amdirlain as the silence stretched out between them until, finally Amdirlain felt her accept the link.
“What are you wanting to try?”
“You’re here helping me and the strain is shortening the life you have left. I want to see if I can help overcome that,” replied Amdirlain. “Just meditate and hopefully this helps you as it has others.”
She let the Ki trickle through the bond and when it contacted Elliyna it seemed to disappear like the first tentative rains across a drought scarred land. Each droplet of energy soaked in or vanished into the broken crevices left behind by life’s strains. Practice at directing Ki into the Mantle made it a simple task to keep the flow regulated into a steady flow of droplets.
The effortless trickle didn’t seem to make a difference and Amdirlain activated the Aura Sight technique even while continuing the Ki flowing into Elliyna. Large dirty-white bands suppressed an aura shot through with silver along with being rich with teal and magenta, showing Amdirlain how worn down Elliyna had become.
The teal showed her emotionally balanced state, while the magneta was something common among Healers from the reading she’d done. She’s yet to examine a Githzérai that didn’t have the psychic silver, but where some had mere threads, Elliyna showed cables of silver within her aura.
It took most of their session for the white within Elliyna’s aura to become pure and unsullied, and a tinge of black showed at the roots of Elliyna’s hair. Stopping more Ki from flowing through the Bond, Amdirlain removed it and Elliyna blinked in surprise.
[Allegiance Bond (20) -> [B](2)]
“Know that I feel strange, but in a good way,” Elliyna stated, and without hesitation drew the blanket away from her legs. The anticipation of pain striking in her expression slowly disappeared and Elliyna glanced up at Amdirlain in shock. “Know I don’t feel even twinges from my legs at present—nothing to show the Chaos is gnawing at my self-image.”
“You’ve got black showing at the roots of your hair,” observed Amdirlain.
“Know my hair has been pure white for decades. Do you think others will recognise me if it grows out black again?” asked Elliyna, and placed a suddenly trembling hand atop her head. “What have you done, Amdirlain?”
“The lady who was my first Priestess—I sent this sort of energy into her—and her body became decades younger. She even had kids again, so maybe don’t get frisky unless you want to raise a child,” teased Amdirlain.
“You did this for me even though I might not live the way you’d like?”
With a snort of disbelief, Amdirlain gave Elliyna an easy-going smile. “That’s your choice, but I’ve heard tales about all the Githzérai you’ve healed, including Liranë. I’m pretty confident that you aren’t going to suddenly turn your back on those needing help.”
“But my Faith?” questioned Elliyna, staring at Amdirlain with a mix of disbelief and awe.
“Is your own, not mine. I’m certainly not going to judge you for your beliefs. Your fascination with memories and their influence on behaviour is something I can empathise with. I appreciate you for all those you’ve helped,” countered Amdirlain.
“Know that not all those I’ve healed have done the best of things,” admitted Elliyna, with a regretful wince. “Know that I put the Order’s current Grand Master back together in his youth after he ran afoul of a pack of psionic beasts.”
Amdirlain flowed from her chair and gave Elliyna a reassuring hug, adding to the Healer’s surprise. “I know some cultures believe that if you save someone’s life, you’re responsible for what they do with it. However, I don’t see things that way. Their choices are their own. If you save someone’s life and they turn around and hurt others, that’s their crime, not yours. Because when someone needed help, you helped, and that alone shows who you are.”
With a last gentle squeeze, Amdirlain release her and gave her cheek a quick kiss.
“Rest well Elliyna and I hope your family at the conflux has been keeping well.”
When Amdirlain approached the dormitory, she saw Sarith ahead, having just exited. Since the mid-year exams, the former Novice had gone to extensive lengths to avoid her, and now Sarith looked genuinely more relaxed.
“I hope you’re well this evening, Sarith, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you about,” said Amdirlain.
“Know that is true, Amdirlain, but I wanted to speak to Gemiya before she returned home instead of leaving the wound between us untended.”
Her wording gave Amdirlain a pleasant surprise. “I’m sorry your father hasn’t changed his mind.”
“Know that father never changes his mind; we need to change for him,” Sarith said, with a lop-sided smile, and moved past.
Amdirlain gave her a polite nod and made for the door, but concealed eyes noted when Sarith stopped on the pathway.
“Amdirlain.”
Sarith still had her back to her, but Amdirlain turned to look her way. The girl bowed her head momentarily—as if gathering herself—before she turned back. “You aren’t going anywhere for the break?”
“No, I’ve got practice and healing exercises I’m planning to continue with,” replied Amdirlain. She wondered if Cyrus planned to let her cycle endlessly or would actually prompt her to alertness to spar with Liranë as promised.
“Know that I hope the break is peaceful for you then,” replied Sarith, and moved off.
“What are your plans with Elliyna away?” asked Amdirlain quickly.
Sarith turned to look at her with a flicker of surprise. “Master Arith and others will continue my instruction.”
“Elliyna mentioned you’d taken the oaths of a Healer. Have you been practicing Zerthi still?”
The question seemed to catch Sarith by surprise and blinking, she gave Amdirlain a nod. “Know that I had expected no one to allow me to do so, but Master Liranë has been ensuring I learn to protect myself. Know that Master Cyrus has also joined her and spoken to me about the Ki and its uses. Did you know you had unlocked the Ki within me?”
The news about Cyrus assisting Sarith caught Amdirlain by surprise, but she simply smiled. “Yes, I knew, and passed the information along, but I didn’t know about your lessons. I’m glad Master Cyrus is providing you guidance. He’s an interesting individual.”
Sarith’s lips tensed for a moment, and then with a sigh, she continued. “Know that when I first met him, he stared at me as if he could see within me. Did he do that to you as well?”
“Yes, it was quite disconcerting,” admitted Amdirlain, hoping it hadn’t been painful for Sarith.
“Know that I found it hard to look at myself in the mirror for many days afterwards. Did it seem to you that he could see everything wrong inside you?” Sarith enquired, her voice softening.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“He only did that once, but it was very painful,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Know if you mean emotionally painful, then we agree. Know that I hope your reverie is peaceful this evening,” Sarith offered.
The longest conversation I’ve had with her, and she’s not blown a gasket. So many still assuming I’m an Elf, no matter how many I correct.
“Rest well.”
With a nod, Sarith turned and walked away.
When Amdirlain ventured inside she found Lezekus giving Gemiya a tearful hug. The beaming smile on Gemiya’s face was all the confirmation Amdirlain needed, and she patted the girl’s back reassuringly.
“Emotional night?”
“Know she thanked me for giving her time and said she’d missed me as well,” Gemiya said, as she wiped tears away. “Know she said that Master Elliyna had told her I’d done well in all my end-of-year exams, so she wanted to congratulate me.”
“Know I think that excuse is pretty flimsy,” Lezekus teased lightly, and Gemiya snorted noisily.
“Flimsy or not, I think it was a wonderful change,” offered Amdirlain. “Have you been told yet when the Portal will open for you to head home for the break?”
“Know tomorrow afternoon for me, after the review session with Master Duurth,” Lezekus replied.
“Know mine is the day after, but it will be another two days for some. Know that I’m not sure why they give us such a long break though, it’s almost thirty days before I return,” Gemiya stated.
“Likely so anyone not wanting to return has time to convince parents,” replied Amdirlain, and smiled at the shocked looks she gained in return. “Isn’t that obvious? Your vows are only binding a year at a time until you reach Senior Novice rank. If someone decides it’s not for them and doesn’t return, then the Masters can provide more focused training for those who do.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Lezekus.
“How easy was it for those that changed their mind during the first week of the enrolment to go home?” asked Amdirlain.
“Know as soon as they declared they wanted to leave, Master Tenzin handed them off to someone to take them home,” admitted Lezekus.
“Personally, I take it that’s a sign they’re only after those that want to be here. Trying to force someone to learn is just wasting their time and energy,” said Amdirlain, and gave the pair a quick hug before she headed down the corridor.
* * *
The last days of the novices’ year had a semi-familiar feel reminding her of her own schooling. The exams were done, everything winding back, yet instead of blowing off the lessons, the Masters helped every Novice improve where their exams had highlighted their flaws. It was routine that guided Amdirlain’s path to the dining room, and finding all the chairs atop the tables, remembered she was now the only Novice left.
“Novice Amdirlain, I’m surprised you didn’t head directly for your training hall,” Master Tenzin said, pausing in the doorway behind her.
“Habit, I was thinking of other things and my feet brought me here,” admitted Amdirlain, and turned to give the Master a bashful smile.
“Know I saw you heading here looking distracted, so I thought as much. Know that Master Duurth said you’ve done well improving your techniques this year. Are you still going to be continuing next year?” asked Tenzin.
“That’s still my intention, Master Tenzin. I’m healing, learning, and enjoying having a bunch of little sisters,” replied Amdirlain.
Her admission drew a smile from Tenzin, and she patted Amdirlain’s shoulder.
“Know that I am glad to hear that Novice Amdirlain, the enrolment had a rocky start, but the last nine quarters have gone well—for them and you,” replied Tenzin. “Know that I’ve informed the Anarch responsible for maintaining this dormitory over the break to hold your training hall in place—given everyone passed their exams, we’ll likely just reuse this building and move it.”
“Master Jarithä is actually going to let me move ahead?”
“Know that Master Elliyna’s reports on your progress from many rest days past cleared many concerns—even if we couldn’t feel the progress for ourselves,” stated Tenzin.
Amdirlain pulled a face, remembering the promise Tenzin made months ago. “I’m sorry we didn’t have time to resolve the issue with my Psi reserves.”
“What makes you say that, Novice Amdirlain?”
“You said you wanted to ensure the damage I had done to myself got fixed,” Amdirlain reminded her.
“Know that I will do so, as I’ll be handling this enrolment again next year, so we’ve time ahead yet,” replied Tenzin. “Or did you think I was going to let you get away that easily? Know if you feel the need to pretend you require food, I’ll show you where you can eat over the break.”
Amdirlain wrinkled her nose as she considered it momentarily and then shook her head. “It’s okay Master Tenzin. I think I’ll spend the time meditating.”
“Would you tell me what type of outsider you are, Novice Amdirlain?” asked Tenzin. “Know that I do not know what plane you are native to, but it’s become clear for some time you’re not mortal flesh and blood.”
“Master Jarithä and Master Cyrus know, otherwise I’d prefer to keep that secret, Master Tenzin. I appreciate all your insights and support this year,” replied Amdirlain.
Master Tenzin didn’t look upset but just nodded her acceptance before she headed along the corridor and left Amdirlain alone in the dining room. As soon as Amdirlain stepped from the room, she turned and headed for her training hall and considered again the changes the recent weeks had wrought in her Mind Palace.
While she had been honest with Elliyna about the changes to the forms over the months, she hadn’t mentioned the golden hues the sun had regained. Under its kinder light, the dried lakebed no longer felt like a place of desolation but filled with potential. Beneath the exposed figures, the once-clinging clay looked like a lush, warm mud bath, providing a comforting warmth instead of a suffocating menace.
Kneeling beyond the immediate reach of the inner door, she lit the pattern’s first Ki points, pleased it now only took three hundred Ki to start. Weaving the energy, she closed her eyes, and the first surge restored the Ki she’d used to help Elliyna. The timelessness of the power ran through her in waves of power, changing from light to dark, and back again. In an instant of darkness a memory hit, and in that timelessness it wrapped about her.
In the memory, the walls of their home had been replaced with a seamless impenetrable blackness that drank not only light but also sound. Father’s hammer struck with a burst of sound, causing the darkness to retreat and shift about—the space their home had provided suddenly enlarged. She held herself quiet, listening to the ringing notes, and turned to watch her father’s forge work—not the iron of the last week but sparks of reality instead.
Power flared and rippled across her perceptions and shifted them away from what had been to place them ‘between’. The last scents of the ocean’s breeze died away before his hammer stilled, and the weight of the darkness pressed against her mind.
“Keep your focus on our possessions, Phaedra. That will be easier on your mind, until you adjust to this place,” father said, and his hammer descended again.
It fell so fast that it blurred, leaving an afterimage of multiple hammers that each became real and hit the forge instead of the anvil in a power waterfall. The stone’s essence compressed and changed with every strike. Despite his advice, she found herself drawn to observe the energy stream that ran from the darkness through his hammer and into every strike to aid the transformation. By the time he stopped it had become a silvery-white metal so brilliant the simple fire within provided a brilliance like the morning sunlight off a clear blue ocean.
The image showed her truth, that of a girl in her early teens wearing a simple dress with long black hair tied back in a simple braid. Her olive skin and dark brown gaze match that of her grandparents, and within the memory is that she has her mother’s eyes.
“Why wouldn’t he come with us?”
“Your brother has his own path to follow. He’s in love with a mortal woman and we’ve much work ahead. While I’ve separated us from the movement of time in any reality, the flow of time still moves within this little pocket in between. She’d have grown old and died before we were even ready to begin.”
At the word ‘begin’ another memory rises to swamp the current one.
* * *
The now larger but shining forge reflects electric-blue hair, and a bright-green gaze. Once olive skin is now golden-hued, and her features are far different from the child she’d been so many years ago. Instead of the round face, angular features now come down to a finely pointed chin. The formerly rounded tips of ears are pointed, holding something of the fey that father had consulted with repeatedly. Along with cheekbones that are sharp like theirs, though the smile that sat naturally on my lips is playful, rather than edged with cruelty or cunning. The transformation that father had effected to consume the divine spark had indeed let the centuries spent practicing rest easier than they had at first while holding onto humanity.
Throughout the chamber, objects ring with music that is purposeful. Their notes the same resonating focus father possesses, and effortlessly sets into everything he crafts; even the simple furnishing behind screens that provided us privacy from each other. Still, for me now, there isn’t true privacy from each other, the music of everything presses constantly. It’s only out in the darkness beyond the chamber’s border that total silence exists.
Only the most practical items fill the growing space we live in, with his every moment dedicated to the purpose my words had set him. Creating a place where Gods could be held to account, whether it leads to revenge for our family is beside the point. Those that wielded power granted by the mortal’s faith should be accountable rather than be allowed to run wild.
Father’s footsteps completing the circle around the scaffolding constraining his latest project draw my attention to him. A jet-black spike that bends the surrounding light, its similarity to the Mind Palace’s spire, almost pushes Amdirlain from the moment until she lets this memory hold sway.
Though I’m now almost the height of the form father has used for most of my life, his horns will forever give him a distinct edge in that comparison. Yet despite us both being taller than any villager, the spike within the scaffolding dwarfs us both.
“Shall we begin?” asks father, his rumbling bass shallow compared to the growing depths of his power’s foundations.
“Are you sure I’m ready, father?”
“Consider this merely another stage in your training. It doesn’t commit us to continue with the reality we form. If either of us feels there is an issue, we’ll move back between realities and create another after resting.”
The relaxed tone is comforting, but though he can disregard the century crafting the twin spikes, it's still not something I’ve grown used to yet. “But what about-”
“It is a reality that we set in motion. It can develop without our direction, the same as a stream running down a mountain chooses it own course. This moment will be its headways nothing more, and nothing less.”
His words answer the question that’s on his mind but disregard my concern for the work involved. Though it's certainly not surprising considering his continual focus on simply what he needs to do next.
Taking a deep breath doesn’t calm the jiggling nerves that a glance at the spike triggers. Its music echoes its distant twin with which it still resonates in time, even with the other floating far out within the void.
Instead of commencing work, his fingers touch feather-light against my cheek, careful of a strength that a rare moment of carelessness can cause to leave deep impressions in any metal. “You’ve worked so hard; your mother would be proud. I’ve set the reality’s laws in place. We’re merely bringing energy and matter in with this stage. The boundary of this space will protect us from the energy’s entry. Now, what is the purpose of your Song?”
I know from his Song that he doesn’t doubt me; instead, I can hear his pride and intention to reassure and distract my nerves.
“To build energy that will amplify your strike and apply it when resistance stops progress.”
Leaning forward, he plants a kiss on my forehead and teasingly scruffs my hair, smiling with genuine amusement at the scowl I give him in return. My antics adjust the momentum of his music, adding notes of playfulness to his nearly too-serious Song.
“Exactly. I’ll strike the spike repeatedly. There is no need to rush, and it’s best to wait until I’ve got a constant tempo, then act.”
“I know, father just like we’ve practiced. Can we start now?” I ask playfully, and throw my hands up in mock-despair. “This wait is the worst part, this torment. How can I stand it?”
He snorts at the pert smile I bestow, and he leaps upwards. Before he lands atop the scaffolding, I’m already moving in time to his music and my own. Each motion causes my own Song to gather strength, and when the first hammer strike hits the spike’s top, my Song is already well and truly begun. A drumbeat of power pulsing with his might and intensity sends me spinning about the chamber with a light heart. The Song of my body joins the music that soars from my lips in a fashion, that not even my father truly understands. My solo voice becomes two, then five, then twelve, each interweaving, forming a chorus of harmonic sound. My dancing once would have left me breathless, but no longer. Now, exhalation adds to the Song, and every inhalation brings in more power.
He is a craftsman and composer, but to his technical brilliance, I add my heart. At first, my music swoops away from his, gathering its pace and intent; I have to be careful not to intersect too soon. Every shift of my posture, and alteration in speed, adds strength to my Song’s foundation.
Strike after strike, father’s power doesn’t cause the spike within the chamber to move a hair’s breadth, but beyond, its twin breaches deep into Chaos. The metal is so dense that its mere presence distorts light. Now far from us, compressing time and space, our attempt to pierce the ever-increasing resistance of a collapsed universe’s boundary.
The Song gathers for endless moments until I can feel our duet’s crescendo approach. Spinning again with my music’s notes twisting tighter, they rise through me in time with the hammer’s descent, and I realise I broke his rule. The notes don’t just amplify his intent and power; they burn with my creativity, passion, and longing. My Song shifts through his hammer in the moment of contact before pressing playful against the spike, the music taking the spike with it. Together they leap to its distant twin, and our crafting doesn’t just pierce the boundary—it completely ruptures it.
Where there had been darkness, there is now energy, and together, billions of finished songs begin to sing again. Their combined beauty and horror dropped me to my knees to weep. The seeds of realms for mortals, gods, and horrid things bloom and sing; as the unleashed power expands, it helps the reality’s initial boundaries grow. Yet father’s rules bind even this energy tight, directing its course through the start of time’s river towards the delta and the endless ocean that awaits to host it.
I’m still crying when he kneels beside me and wraps an arm gently around me.
“The darkness will let the light shine brighter.”
“There is more than a bit of Chaos mixed in as well, father.”
“A veritable ocean of the ‘between’ it seems. Well, better this than a dry sterile reality where the ending is predictable. The Chaos will provide plenty of supplementary material, and a means to prevent the planes from eroding each other. Once it’s settled, we’ll make preparations to pierce the primordial barrier to bring in more building matter and set places for our guests.”
“Which of the Dragons are you going to allow in?”
Father shifts position to sit with his knees tucked against his chest, not moving away from me, even though he doesn’t like either kneeling or sitting on the floor. “Nuwa, Tiamat, Bahamut, plus some of their children.”
“Nuwa has become warped though, after her husband’s death her Song sounds so cruel. Are you sure she’ll keep the bargain?”
“The chains are ready to hold her in place. While she wears them, she will remain unkillable. Should she ever allow them to be removed by action or inaction, inertia will drag her from this reality. She fears death more than the pain that has become twisted within her until it turned to pleasure.”