Isa – Outlands – Evening First Day
The ordinarily calm wind of the Outlands echoed strangely across the chasm. Its clean-cut sides looked like someone had scooped hundreds of kilometres out with a laser cutter. Here and there the wound in the Outlands was healing as the Plane’s energy regenerates the lost ground.
War hosts that had long operated from it have already scattered; the various pantheons’ priests had summoned a few of their number when the news of Amdirlain’s demise had spread. Mostly, they had simply returned to their home Plane upon the Gods’ War beginning. Only Amdirlain’s people and the three of us linger along the edge.
“I find you judgemental, arrogant, demanding, and a perfectionist with almost zero tolerance for others,” the words hiss from me, in time to Sarah’s Song. The false veneer barely mutes the pulse of notes within her True Form and, despite my tone, all I hear is acceptance.
Hers is a music filled with precisely measured notes, each technically executed, including the quick, razor-sharp ones that cut both ways. The Songs of memories soar within the veneer of her forms—true and false—causing me to direct my focus away from their ancient Draconic sound.
She looks like a young girl, maybe eight or nine years of age, but her set expression carries the weight of years. Still, she’s tripled in height from Sage’s description of her initial Human form.
“The way you fly by the seat of your pants and leave others holding the bag drives me nuts,” growls Sarah, the intensity in her gaze matching the music.
The muscles along her jaw clenched, and I held back from budging until the very last moment before offering a hand. “Fine, so we’re both clear?”
“Agreed.”
She gives my hand a precise double-pump handshake before she releases her grip.
“We both fucked the pooch on this one,” I huff and waved at the chasm. “Can you get to the ten kingdoms?”
“Fucked what now?” Echo mouths to Ilya. His confused expression has me restraining a giggle, especially with the Hound features under the Human guise he wears.
“She swings both ways, but I don’t think that’s a promise of any action; she’s such a meanie,” Ilya quips. Even as I focus on Sarah, I try not to groan.
“Ebusuku got the Erakkö worshipping me. While I can appreciate it was an action on my behalf, trying to stave off my situation, it now limits the worlds I can get to; otherwise, I’d have been through a Gate so fast,” stated Sarah. “We should have contacted you.”
“Wouldn’t have helped. We’ve levelled too much between finding the materials for O’Nai and the world Sage found. We tried to get back there recently because someone changed their mind about a memorial. The Priest that helped previously said no deal,” I explain, inciting Sarah to roll her eyes when I cross my arms. “Bury the hatchet?”
“As long as it’s not buried in my head, I believe we can agree to that,” grants Sarah. “I was on Cemna hunting when I received word. I’m surprised someone told you.”
“They didn’t need to. I felt a breaking harp string thrumming through me, and I followed the sound’s source here. I hadn’t the chance to see the Domain previously.”
I try to keep my words light, but it’s painful after the way we three used to live at mine or Julia’s house.
“Teleporting blind could have gone bad,” chided Sarah.
“Have you two completed this ritual of insults yet?” Echo asked grumpily.
The constant refrains of his grief kept my retort from my lips, and I feel my way through an explanation.
“It isn’t to insult; we each get one statement about what we dislike the most, but it’s factual, no rude words. We just had to clear the air between us,” I say, gently keeping my pointed remarks about not sharing info on the first failed summoning attempt with me. Honestly, I hadn’t handled things well. Why would they share their concerns with me? “We messed up before, but I’d hope after the help we’ve given that we can start afresh. I don’t like the notification you received, but I’m going to hope it’s not what I believe and continue as if she still exists.”
As I pull out a pack of cards, Sarah rolls her eyes. “Must you do that?”
“How about this: you trust me to determine the information, and then you can use it to set up a precise plan? I’d suggest you not rely on my delivering a particular outcome in your plans. You can use me as a decoy far from the scene of whatever you’re doing.”
“We promise we can make plenty of noise,” Ilya adds quickly. Her hand squeezing my butt has me squeak in surprise; her music’s change was nearly simultaneous with the action all over so fast.
I grasp at her, but she dances away, and Echo’s words steal my attention. “None of Erwarth’s teams are responding to messages. We don’t know what’s happened to them.”
“There is little we can do at present. Klipyl vanished from right beside me and left a glowing patch of ground behind,” Sarah states, before I can ask more. “Then I heard and came here. I barely learnt what was what before Cyrus and I got booted out when the Domain vanished.”
“Not going to the Abyss,” Ilya says emphatically. “Especially not underground. Sorry, Duskstone was bad enough. I don’t need to go to Ternòx, I never want to see it again.”
At Echo’s sceptical expression, I lifted my hands and cut off whatever he was about to say. “Ilya doesn’t do well underground. An experience before dying and multiple run-ins on Ternòx, along with planes like it. Please keep in mind our supervisor treated us like she wanted us killed. When we weren’t scouting Demonic armies’ approaches, we’d frequently get sent to planes with almost zero space for air superiority. Likely because we kept getting stronger than she’d expected, the whole fear factor.”
“Is that why you’ve not gone to learn from the Lómë, because Ilya won’t go?” asks Echo.
I gnaw at my lip for a moment before I admit the truth. “Not just that but I’m not going anywhere without her. I’ve no desire to have people’s memories jammed inside my head. Especially since I feel like there are some I don’t want back, just nope. I’ll live my own life, thanks. They got themselves into that mess, they can dig themselves out of it; I’m not their saviour. I’m sure I don’t know all the details, but the one memory I have is from the end of a battle and it makes me want to kill them myself.”
“Where is Cyrus?” Ilya asks, likely hoping to distract me, but the memory burbles at me too loudly, her beautiful voice blending into those recalled lifted in Song.
I stand atop the highest tower in a city melting in flames, acid, and brutal magic, with no barriers to halt the destruction. I know it’s because the Lómë are already gone, having fled before Orhêthurin recovered from Leviathan’s strike. High above us Orhêthurin still fights despite her right arm gone, and her body a mass of acid-burnt flesh. Flights of her beloved Dragons die to give her a chance at Leviathan, sections of tentacles seared into dust by her strikes. If only we could do so well against the rest. Songs and spells alike that could significantly injure the Great Wyrms that form this host all take too long to form. We simply can’t counter all the attacks that form the near continual onslaught. With no greater barriers buying us the time, it feels hopeless. We’d already be dead if Orhêthurin’s ongoing hounding of Leviathan didn’t prevent it from adding its might to the attack.
We fought on with the Lómë Song silent and no word that evacuating the servants was complete. The knowledge pulsing in my head tells me that all our plans became dust because of them. Word comes that their city is simply gone, but it’s news that’s too late to save us. An Adamantine Dragon forces itself into a brutal course change to interpose itself, and kilometres away I hear bones break like thunderclaps before Leviathan’s breath weapon dissolves it. A moment more and Orhêthurin would have been untouched, not caught as well. The Dragon hadn’t had the time, nor do we. Its tower-thick tentacles reach our way and, descending from the high clouds, its inhalation starts a hurricane.
“Gone to report back to the Jade Emperor,” answers Echo, and his rumble slaps the memory away. “A shining bird appeared, but I didn’t hear whatever he later claimed it said.”
My rapid blinking has Ilya watching me with concern in her Song, and I can only shrug.
“Don’t you believe what he said?” Sarah asks before I can manage my question. The bird-like tilt of her head makes me wonder how it would appear in her Dragon form.
“No, I believed him,” replies Echo, and his shoulders slump. “Sorry, I guess I was unfair in my words.”
Sarah snorts and rolls her eyes. “As if I’d complain about that, you all still endure me. I was more wondering if you had reason to doubt him. Message me if we hear where they went to. I wish I could, but I can’t help on Vehtë.”
With that, a rune-carved gem appears in her hands, and she just vanishes, the Planar Shift’s Song echoing with the resonance of Mechanus’ order.
“You gave the impression you wouldn’t give in first. So why the acting?” asks Ilya, and Echo looks between us in surprise.
With the memory tickling at me again, I give Ilya a smile, grateful for the distraction. “I could hear in her Song that she was about to do the same. Sarah was always strange to me. She was bossy and demanding, but do you remember what I said about why she started being a dominatrix?”
“You told me what she used to do but not why,” Ilya replies
I shrug in embarrassment; almost sure I’d told her. “It was about helping others experience pleasure, as strange as those pleasures may have seemed to others. Her pleasure was from helping them be happy in themselves and pushing the boundaries of what they enjoyed. Her Song has so many unhappy, sharp notes; giving her back a little of that sense of control doesn’t hurt.”
Ilya shakes her head, and I can tell it still makes little sense to her. “How were you two ever friends?”
“Amdirlain was the bridge between us. She always made our friendships work; we just clicked with her,” I reply. Memories prickle at me, and I don’t realise how long I’ve stopped until Ilya’s fingers brush my shoulder in concern. “Isn’t that sad? I wonder how much I took that easy familiarity for granted. Once I knew it was her, things felt off because there wasn’t that same click, and then there were those slaps of her presence, so I scolded her. And now this mess, I worry about the wording in the notification Echo shared.”
“True, destruction isn’t a word you want. Killed, fine, you’re Planar Locked, but destruction, ouch.” Ilya says her nose wrinkling, the wince she affected turns into a smile. “Not that you’d get told it happened if it was you.”
“Things will never be the way they were….”
Ilya waits when my words trail off, and I don’t explain before I wave at Echo, my excited motion drawing his attention. I feel luck nudging me. Luck pressing so hard it’s pulsing in my veins, its music soars through my senses, making my skin tingle with its pressure.
“Ilya, we’ll head back to Cemna until the Domain is accessible,” says Echo, gesturing at the other Celestials.
“No, I’m not worried about where you’re going. You said years ago that Amdirlain’s worship had spread to a couple of dozen worlds. Do you know any of them with a species close to Humans?” I ask, and he nods, but his confusion is apparent.
Sarah’s back almost instantly after I message that I’ve got an idea.
“I’ll need a volunteer, but a species close to Human, especially limbs and senses, so they need minimal time to adjust. I’m certain I can change them into a perfect Human and back again when it’s done. We can test with one, and then if they get through the barrier, send more with equipment. The question is, do you think any of them would be interested in repaying the Greeks? I’m willing to bet they’ll be able to get through, and if one can get through, I can do that with others. Sarah would you share some of your toys with them?”
“No, I won’t. The ideas would spread among their culture or the ten kingdoms, and then their societies would face chaotic disruption,” Sarah says sternly and motioned me to wait. “But I have items I’ve made for practice around the same technology level as the ten kingdoms. Minor trinkets really, nothing as strong as Winter’s Heart.”
“I’ll get in touch with a few Priests I’ve been speaking with over the years,” Echo says, and the first Message Spell flits away between planes.
“You’re comparing everything you make to Winter’s Heart?”
The sound of all the pieces of its music was beautiful, beyond any sword I can remember hearing.
“Isn’t it sensible to go by the highest benchmark you have so you can reach for a higher one?”
Duurth – Limbo – Monastery of Will’s Hand – Evening – First Day
The door to Master Tenzin’s office closes behind him, and she waves him to take a chair, with Master Jarithä already sitting on the left side of the trio.
“Know that I had quite the time settling the girls when Lezekus woke screaming. Why did neither of you see fit to let me know I had a Goddess in my dormitory?”
“Know that it was my decision as the head of the Monastery’s council, Master Tenzin,” noted Jarithä, and the female Master fixed her attention on him.
“How do you expect the duties of the Dormitory Master to be correctly handled if I’m not aware of all the details? Did you know all along? Know there are incidents that make far more sense, some of which could have been prevented, if I’d known.”
“Know we realised her full nature after that first end-of-year break,” admitted Duurth, and kept Lezekus’ part in it quiet.
“You knew for that long and didn’t tell me?” Tenzin grumbled as she glanced between the pair of them. The tightness of her lips etching lines around her mouth was not from frustration, but contained grief.
“Know that Amdirlain didn’t wish for different treatment, and nothing provided guidance for such an event. Know we took measures to ensure further incidents wouldn’t go unnoticed, it proved unnecessary beyond the guidance you provided her.”
“Is that why almost no one challenged Amdirlain to exchange pointers? Were you preventing it?” Tenzin asked, not yet put off from her questions.
Master Jarithä waved the question off with a slight flick of his fingers. “Know that was the purpose of agreeing to those regular rematches; it cooled off those interested to an extent Amdirlain could handle.”
Master Tenzin stared into the distance before turning her focus back to Master Jarithä. “Do you have news I can provide Novice Lezekus?”
“Know that I’ve heard from Master Liranë, a Spymaster found the crafter of the summoning circle. Know Master Liranë read his mind while he was reviewing a recording of the event; to gloat over his crime and determine improvements he could make. Would you believe they don’t have wards that protect from Psionics?” asked Jarithä. The others twitched in obvious discomfort even as he continued, and he agreed with their concerns over mental parasites. “Know that during this review she gathered additional mental evidence that was given to a High Justice of Týr,” said Jarithä.
“The God that Amdirlain’s daughter serves?” asked Duurth.
“Know that is correct, but she wasn’t in attendance, nor is it allowed she serve in such a case. Know that one called Verdandi took the evidence from Liranë, but Torm and one of Amdirlain’s Priestesses served as the executors of the sentence,” explained Jarithä.
Master Duurth turned on his chair to fix his full attention on Master Jarithä, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “They took the time to follow a process and not just rush off for vengeance?”
“Know that I found it surprising, given the reputation of many outsiders and Amdirlain’s wildness,” replied Jarithä, a slight firm nod emphasised his statement.
Tenzin stilled the twitching that had set her fingertips tapping against her legs. “How do we wish to handle the rest of their end-of-year exams?”
“Know you should follow the normal evaluation process with the trauma allowances, particularly for Lezekus. Know that Master Elliyna is leading the circles providing Master Liranë additional Psi energy for the duration of the conflict,” replied Jarithä.
“Doesn’t the barrier prevent us from sending more aid?
“Know the barrier is still in place and that Master Liranë cannot feel the dimensional aspect. Know, however, that Master Elliyna had no issues sending her mental strength to reinforce her capabilities, though I’m not quite sure what to make of her other news,” admitted Jarithä.
“Do I wish to know?” asked Tenzin.
Jarithä spread his hands slightly, showing reluctance as he shared the news. “Know that after the group withdrew from a warded region, one called Hermes attacked them. Know that in the battle, Master Liranë killed him and gained the Mantle of Speed and Messengers, though there are additional aspects I don’t understand.”
“How did she kill a God?” asked Tenzin, surprise caused her to broadcast her question.
“Know that he couldn’t handle her Acidic Scythe technique cutting off his legs. Know that the divine Mantle was a surprise to her, but he was goading them about Amdirlain’s destruction, so she dealt with him. Would you both ensure that every student learns the importance of not speaking during a fight? Know I find this a stark reminder of that, and I am glad it’s a practice we’ve long discouraged.” instructed Jarithä, and both the masters nodded their agreement.
Duurth cleared his throat, and his face wore lines of concern. “Is Master Liranë going to take this Human God’s position?”
“Know that she hasn’t yet decided, nor does she need to until the end of the conflict. Know she doesn’t like some aspects of the Mantle and is considering carefully,” advised Jarithä.
Duurth nodded, but the lines of emotion still showed. “Know that it is proper that things are not done in haste, ironic though that may be in this case. Know though, if anyone were to be trusted with such power, it’s preferable that it’s one with respectable ethics, at least.”
“I wonder if she’d be the first Githzérai God since before the forerunners?” ask Tenzin.
“Know from my reading, I’ve not heard a hint of us possessing a God other than those we’ve found worthy among the outsiders,” replied Jarithä.
Runa’s PoV – Early morning - Second Day
The Grecian troops showed up in time to mess up our plans to evacuate to Eyrarháls. Fortunately, sweeps had spotted them on the road when the schedule had half a day left until we’d be ready to leave. There was too much to do and not enough time to do it. Although we still have over a half-dozen Lantern Archons that Brina had summoned to help me maul their ranks. I expected them to break from the initial onslaught, dropped dozens yet none of them falter, and I hear their mental rage grow. The killing continuing until the nearly eighteen-to-one we’d faced—with no defensive emplacements—are down to the last score on their side with no lost among us. It’s a game of Teleport and tag with bolts and spells, cutting them down.
“Hecate take you, bug.”
It’s a pretty Lightning Bolt, a brilliant white-blue. Pity for it I’ve already moved. The tree it hits groans and topples towards the road, smouldering and scenting the air with burning bark and sap. I bounce positions twice more before firing another bolt and teleporting again. The Devil’s face opens with the Ki wrapped bolt that impacts the back of his head. And I’ve already moved before his body hits the ground. Joined by another dismembered Devil dealt with by a large red-haired woman who had attacked from their rear after we’d engaged.
With the fifth Devil lost, its energy dissolving in True Sight, the Grecian troops coming from the North finally falter and pause. The Devil made them do it? Four in a shield wall close to the woman become eight; the cut made by her two-handed sword is fast for a Mortal—straight through their mid-sections—shield, armour, and all.
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With the Temple nearly in arrow shot, despite them being caught between us, we don’t stop. Among the other Lantern Archons, two wizards cut loose, and they don’t miss. Though I hope defending worshipers includes when troops come marching in their direction, they might rally from the beginning of a retreat.
Honestly, it feels one-sided; the only things injured are all the poor trees and trampled undergrowth when the few left, after the last Devil falls, try to flee. The spells they’d successfully sent towards the Temple when the fighting started were blocked by Spell Barriers that hadn’t even flickered.
I’m not sure what the Greeks call a legion of troops or even their purpose on this road. Simply wearing Hecate’s symbol is enough proof of hostility for me, and the Devils are honey in a warm drink. Well, if I could eat.
“We could have handled them, but thank you,” I say, taking in the woman as she wipes brains from her blade, a cleft skull of her last foe nearby. The woman is tall even for a Norse, standing nearly three metres, her shoulders broader than an axe-haft’s length across. Clad in leather armour, with bulky muscles, that I would have thought should slow yet don’t impede her speed, a Devil having died in an eye blink. Her ember-red mane of hair cascades across her shoulders with a veil-like fringe that didn’t seem to hinder her from knowing where and when to strike.
Brushing aside her obscuring hair reveals amber eyes in a feral featured face, she doesn’t hesitate to provide a toothy grin. “Týr liked your lady, so that’s reason enough to lend a hand.”
She grimaces at her own wording when I don’t reply immediately, not sure what to say at all. “Sorry for your pack’s loss. Hope you didn’t mind me lending a hand. I took out their rearguard for you as well. Their bodies are back that way, obviously,” she adds, waving a hand dismissively behind her.
A helmed Norse warrior leaping from the woods, his spear leading the way towards the woman’s back, prompts me to act. The woman is in the way, so I Teleport behind her. With his spear now aimed at me, I fire at his helm even as I take in the white beard and sole glowing eye. Yet I hadn’t expected his speed to increase. Suddenly the spear tip leading the charge has light blurring off its edges, an edge that screeches across me sending me spinning away. Out of control with the force of the blow, I take in the gash in my golden filigree while I try to slow.
Bouncing from ground to tree to ground again before I regain control and find the woman struggling with the man for control of the spear. Either he’s a bad shot or its impact on me had driven the spear high. A bleeding wound across her shoulder shows where his thrust struck, instead of her spine. Spells and bolts focused on the warrior from the others seem only to rock the warrior in place when they can take a shot. The twisting movements of the pair aren’t fast enough to cause me problems tracking them, but they’re tangled up close and shifting too often to risk it.
A slight flex of his knee finally gives me an opening, and my bolt, enfolded with Ki, strikes true. The wound sends a spray of blood across the ground and buckles his knee, finally giving her the advantage and letting her wrest the spear away. That she casts it aside, though, isn’t what I’d expected. Her mouth transforms into a muzzle and clamps onto his helm, with her boots planted as if she’s about to lift the world.
Her gear just melds into her body, and she is suddenly a wolf twice the size of the Temple. The closest roadside trees are uprooted and sent flying. The blood spray from the decapitated man goes far and wide. The post-battle experience rush is greater than the legion we’d fought before him.
“Sorry we didn’t get to introductions,” the wolf says, blood flowing from the now far larger wound on her shoulder. “I appreciate the help. Your light reappearing to shift the shadows had me turn enough, though it looks like your decorative thingy took quite a blow.”
“Attacking someone from behind that just helped us isn’t good. You can call me Tove. What should I call you?”
“Call me Fen, that’s what Týr uses around our home,” Fen replies, her muzzle curling smile showing teeth that would make lots of mortals run. If they didn’t just die of fright.
“Ahh, what are you doing passing through this way?”
“I’m heading south to Eyrarháls, Týr sent me a Message to meet him there. Can’t Teleport the way I am now, but I move quickly so it won’t take me long. He told me this road south had some temples of your pack that hadn’t evacuated yet and asked me to check along the way. Ensure you all get to the safety of Eyrarháls’ den”
“Týr is going to Eyrarháls?!” I want to take the question back, that I’d been startled into asking and not intending to insult with doubt.
Fen nods, clearly taking my shocked words as a valid question. “Said he’d met a few friends, and they decided it was the place to defend.”
“Pardon me if it’s out of place for asking, but friends? I should let the cadre know Eyrarháls is going to be a bigger target.”
“Mithras and Skaði.”
I send word off and move closer to inspect her injury; the wolf just gives me an amused side-eye while I hover near it. While the mess on her shoulder is still bleeding freely it doesn’t seem to bother her. “Would you like us to seal that wound?”
“Whatever help you can give would be appreciated. Odinn’s spear had a nasty bite.”
“Odinn’s Spear?”
A paw lifts from the ground, and waves towards the decapitated body, the head is nowhere in sight.
“That was Odinn. None of his Mantle’s aspects appeals to me. I feel like I could give one to you, otherwise they’re just likely to be claimed by someone when the dust settles. I’ll hold on to them for now so someone I don’t like doesn’t pick them up, but really, you want one? You took part in the fight, think that’s why I feel I can pass them to you?”
My mental shudder set me bouncing, but I’m not sure what terrifies me most. Me a God? No thank you! Way too much work. “No, thanks. I don’t even want hands.”
I feel like I’ve got something buzzing in my glow and despite the daylight, the colours across her shift wildly. She waits quietly while I continue to heal her, surprised at how much health a single blow had taken, and the others join the moment I ask for help.
“You don’t want hands. Why not?” asked Fen. Transforming back into a woman, the only sign of the injury at all was the blood across her armour that’s reappeared, and the blood in her hair.
“Then I might have to help with chores. Kneeling to scrub the floorboards or stonework was never a favourite.”
“You get offered a Mantle and you’re worried about chores,” Fen chuckles and looks at me in disbelief.
“It’s my choice, isn’t it?”
The sheer volume of Fen’s laughter caused an eruption of sound from hen houses all across the hamlet.
“You’d better not have put them off their laying. We’ve disrupted the farmers enough,” I scold, and a thought comes to mind. “I always thought you were male?”
Fen laughs so hard she snorts, and I figure the hens’ laying anything for weeks is a dream. “Well, I was, until Yggdrasil decided otherwise. After my blood and Týr’s mingling birthed the first Vargr Drangijaz, she decided I needed to be a proper mother figure.”
“Why didn’t you go wolf straight away?”
“Let him set the spear for me to transform against? That’s one way to die,” scoffed Fen, and looked over at the Temple. “How long have you been here for?”
“A few years now. It’s nice and Brina’s good company,” I say, even as I take in the shattered trees along the north road from the hamlet. Spot fires from the Lightning Bolt and other spells are being put out by the Lantern Archon wizards.
“Well, I hope it goes back to being nice when this is over. Odinn’s blood spilled here might have weird effects, and its set another wolf among the sheep; the other Norse will know now. Speaking of worry warts,” Fen muttered, and tilted her head as if listening to something distant. A strangely shy smile crossed her lips as she stroked a runed amulet at her throat. But she quickly focuses her gaze on me again.
“How will the other Norse know?” I ask, not sure what to make of the rest of it.
“Not just them. The Mantle holders can feel the others dying and know the victor. Don’t know if it’s for provoking more hard feelings or just so individuals know how much this stupidity is costing everyone,” reply’s Fen. “Some Mortals have taken out a bunch of the Greeks and Persians. Apollo killed Ra but hasn’t stopped eating: three more including Sol,” recounts Fen, wrinkling her nose in distaste at the gluttony. “Thor killed Zeus, and then got killed by Raivo, whose mantle felt minor, but reeks of Set somehow.”
Fen’s shoulders slump but only momentarily before she grins. “If those chickens aren’t going to lay any more, do you think the farmers will roast some?”
Ebusuku’s PoV - Laurelin
[Domain’s Plane re-alignment completed.
Total Elapsed Time: 1.2784 Letveri Solar Day.
Deity rankings-
Primary World: Letveri
Home Plane: Laurelin
Sole Planar Connection: Elysium Fields, Oceanus Layer
Rank: Greater
Total Secondary Worlds: 26
Deity Rank held upon these worlds: -
Intermediate: 3
Lesser: x 4
Demi x19
Expanding Domain into Full Plane: In-progress
Transformation from Solar to Divine Ranks: Complete
Transformation of all Oath-Links to default Domain Species: Angel
New Angelic Contingent:
Solar: 57
Trumpet Archon: 1
Note: A Gods’ War is currently in progress on Vehtë. As an independent Power, direct participation is only optional.
Note: The time allowed for the agreement to take part has now been exceeded. We appreciate your patience while they settle the bloodshed. As a non-participant, you will not be eligible to collect any additional aspects for your Mantle from the dead unless all taking part succumb to mutual destruction.
Note: Any servants in the designated conflict area may act in the defence of themselves and any settlement hosting a place of worship to yourself greater than a personal shine.
Note: This includes the war host gathered by servant designation: Mirage, common name, Leira. Ensure she continues to follow the instructions provided to her at the conflict’s commencement. The protocols will apply any punishment post-conflict based on accumulated offences.]
Golden sunlight washes across the Domain and I’m aware of everyone it touches even before it’s shone through our windows. The light possessed the same comforting warmth I’d felt in her Mind Palace. When it touches me, it gives such a profound sense of peace, but only softens the grief’s grip. Emotions that had been foreign to my existence, claw and scratch, grief and sorrow drowning the familiar anger. The dedication of those near and far echoed my confusion, yet curiously adds to the sunlight’s comfort, and a strange warmth churns within.
The notification’s words bite at my hair-thin control over the pain and I draw in a breath to scream at it, for what, I’m not sure. Amdirlain had repeatedly grumbled about it, but she’d also said lashing out verbally or mentally made no difference. Still, I want to yell at something right now. The extent of the information takes me a moment to absorb, and everything around me enters my awareness at once.
Not just nearby for but scores of kilometres around me, I know what is present without a Spell, line of sight, or even a thought. My awareness simply tracks everything and despite the multitude present, it’s effortless. The extent of the notification takes me longer to absorb than the movement of recovering Petitioners and Celestials. Crystal buildings are drawing in the new light and feeding it to towers I can feel at the Domain’s edge. The faint mental presences they’d previously contained blaze to me now, and their thoughts feel lightning fast.
Not sure if the change is in them or me, I settle for what I can do now.
“Mirage, we had a time loss. I’ve been told you received instructions about the conflict’s rules. I’ll get things organised here, but I’d like more details.”
Within the Mantle I can feel the Oath-Links, which convey far more than Amdirlain had said. One advantage of the Divine rank? They let me feel the thousands of Celestials all at once; unfortunately, mostly just within the Domain and Cemna. Five hundred and twenty-two Lantern Archons, six Hound Archons, and Solveiga are on Vehtë. Ironically, level-wise, she’s in line with the weakest Archon, but hopefully, her Angelic power provides some balance.
Cleaning up with a Spell I let the new iteration of the dastardly trio know where to meet me. When my form refuses to shift under the Mantle’s strange pressure, I feel a knot in my stomach. “I’ve told the others I’d meet them on the ridgeline. Did you want to come along?”
“Will you first explain why you look distraught?” Farhad asks, his hands still resting on me comfortingly.
“A notification showed Amdirlain’s destruction,” I reply, getting the words out quickly to separate them from my emotions.
“Just send her a Message and we’ll arrange protection somehow if Erwarth isn’t already covering that,” Farhad keeps talking, not taking the hint from me shaking my head.
“Destruction, the notification said destruction. You kill a body, destruction is when a Demon, Celestial, or similar entity meets their final end.”
“Because you’re choosing to take it that way?” asks Farhad.
Careful not to break it in my frustration, I tap my fist against the window, glad we’re still located in the same relative position; hopefully that means no one got hurt. “Amdirlain said the notifications she received frequently included wording that wouldn’t make sense to anyone else. She was split between whether her mind translated the intention, or whatever sends them knows far too much about her life. It was strange for her, and I see what she means now.”
“This place feels strange,” murmurs Farhad, his tone edged and disconcerted.
Turning, I let the sheet slip from me, and wrap my arms around him. “Domains are normally on planes aligned to the Deity; while the Outlands is a balanced Plane, this has a much more Celestial feel. The notification indicated we’re linked to Elysium Fields, which makes sense given Amdirlain was always more interested in doing what she could to help than rules but didn’t just look after her own interests.”
A fleeting crack in his composure closes before he nods. “I’ll try to help as much as I can, but I’m not sure I can handle living here all the time.”
“Neither Amdirlain nor I had the same obsession with Law as you do, husband. Let’s get things into a semblance of sanity and then look to work something out. It said we’re connected to the Oceanus Layer of Elysium Fields, but we’ll need to find the Gate’s location. I’m told the Domain is being expanded into a full Plane.”
“How?”
“Before I could see my Profile, but with her Mantle I’m seeing the notifications she used to talk about,” I admit. His shocked expression makes it clear he hadn’t believed that part, but he closes his mouth when I nod and continue. “Including the extra commentary.”
I send requests off through various Oath-Links while we get dressed and then Teleport places us on the ridgeline near where the first defence tower had once stood. It had shifted when the Domain had expanded, but now I’m not sure which of the plinths standing out against the darkness it’s become. The plinths are needles against the horizon’s churning darkness that is further away with every moment.
Sage, Berry, and Hook appear beside me a moment after our arrival, and by then the wall of darkness I’d seen is but a thin line on the horizon. Wherever it has receded, bare ground is sprouting grass and saplings that stretch towards the golden sun with ever-increasing speed.
“Should I go check on what’s left behind where the Domain was?” asks Hook before anyone else has a chance.
“That would be a good idea. The Giant community might have issues with the removal of the towers. This Plane’s name is Laurelin, for Planar Shift. We’re only connected to a layer of the Elysium Fields now.”
“Song of Gold in Elven,” murmurs Berry.
“Some of them are here, I was talking to a group of them near the original hall when it happened,” offers Hook, talking over top of Berry’s comment. “I told them I’d let them know as soon as I had information to share.”
“Only non-resident celestials got kicked out as part of the transfer. I need to get in touch with Aggie and some others,” I start, but at Berry’s immediate wince I stop and wait for her.
Her Human form’s dusky skin looks ashen from shock and disbelief, even though I was sure that a Celestial physically couldn’t suffer from the first. “Whatever happened wasn’t instant. I sent her a Message, and Amdirlain’s summoning... it was yesterday; after that, Livia and Verdandi summoned Torm, only just beating the Gods’ War announcement,” explains Berry. She’s quick to plant a palm across Hook’s mouth as he nearly speaks over top of me. “Wait up buster.”
“Sorry. I knew it wasn’t instant. We lost just over a day and quarter on Letveri,” I inform them.
“They’re close to the same then, it’s now afternoon the day after things went bad. It was slightly before midday when you sent a Message to Aggie,” offers Berry.
Sage brings out a pencil to write notes but stops as the glowing lights of a Celestial’s manifestation starts nearby and continues until nearly sixty individuals are forming. The light fading away reveals nearly all of them have glowing pure-white wings despite the light within the Domain. Their faces are still the same, so it’s easy to identify them. Erwarth, the other Lome, and even Klipyl.
Erwarth walks toward us, and the others follow suit. Her gait is awkward in the first steps but quickly adjusts to her six silvery white wings. As she takes in her own changes, I do likewise for all of them. Red skin is now bronze-gold, though the smallest change is perhaps the most dramatic. Her solid jet-black eyes have restored to an Elven appearance, containing liquid silver irises that shine with an internal glow. The others are a mixture of hair and eye colours. All Lómë now have a Solar’s form, taller than I normally stand and clad in golden armour.
Their appearance leaves Klipyl to seem a much younger sibling possessing the single wings of a Trumpet Archon; of them all, she’s the least changed. Ivory skinned, blue-eyed, with night black tresses, she’s wearing a white shear-silk dress ending high on her thighs and concealing little of what it covers. In her hands is an ornate curved horn with Amdirlain’s symbol upon it and she stares at it with open-mouthed surprise. The naughty giggle when she makes a circle with her thumb and forefinger and slides it up and down isn’t a surprise.
“What happened?” I ask first, but Sage and Farhad echo me.
Erwarth opens her mouth to reply, her gaze becoming heated, but she huffs and her shoulders slump before she goes on. “Amdirlain wanted everyone tied to her Domain to be safe and lifted with it. The Titan gave us a choice, and only one option of the three appealed.”
“I can’t tell you her reasoning, but I know from when she started attempting to transfer it and when it finished took time. I know she appreciated you wanted to help your families. She might have been desperate to get the Mantle free of Apollo’s trap. Please don’t assume she intended to take your choice to help your kin away. What were the other two options?”
“To break Oath with her and the worshippers would have that knowledge added to their grief or be destroyed because of the link with the Domain in the Celestial heights.”
Elves! I don’t understand her anger now, given they’ve escaped Amdirlain’s destruction, but emotions are high, including my own.
“She wouldn’t have wanted your destruction on top of her own,” I try to tell her reassuringly, but the words rub against the pain in my chest.
Erwarth blinks and shoots a look at the others before straightening and an odd sense of pushing aside anger came before she replies. “The Titan said her fate is still to be determined. He said it depends if she can adapt to her new situation and recover herself or not. I don’t know what that means, but hopefully, she’s not gone forever.”
“He said nothing else?” I ask, but the news sends a sense of relief through me, wiping away pain in my chest, and settling the knots that had been growing in my stomach.
“We argued about our old issues, and he sounded amused about Klipyl having helped couples.”
“I only answered a few shy males enquiring about bringing their wives pleasure. Then one thing led to another, and every time I went back to the castle I had other staff or couples wanting to speak again. Maybe I should have visited more often, but I got busy elsewhere,” offers Klipyl,
“It didn’t tempt you to seduce any of them?” asks Hook. “I mean, Echo said you were often in the barracks.”
“Oh, these weren’t from the barracks, and some couples were so cute together. But no, I had plenty of playmates, but Sarah said a therapist shouldn’t get involved with a patient,” Klipyl replies, even while offering Hook a seductive smile.
Berry blinks, but I’m glad for what she focuses on even when her response catches me by surprise. “I’ve not heard that word before.”
“I’d never heard the word before either. I was helping them get over sexual issues Sarah said that made me as good as a therapist; well, as close they were likely to get,” admits Klipyl, “But it was a weirdly nice seeing them so happy just from a little sex. Well, maybe not so little, some of the Erakkö I’ve met have girth. And I mean girth for a Mortal, one male it reached his knees, and got as thick as my wrist, I was always happy to see him.”
“You just helped a few couples at the castle?”
“Oh no, I started there, but then they told their friends about me and asked if I could visit a few other places. I ended up travelling lots, even as far as one of the northern countries; it was more fun than bug hunting,” Klipyl casually explained. “Sarah even suggested talks in their community halls after I had trouble finding time to speak to everyone. But in those, I just shared questions that others had asked and what worked for different couples, so they knew it wasn’t just them. Then we had nibbles afterwards. They were nice to me.”
“If you were talking to groups, how many did you help?” asks Berry, her expression flickering between amusement and disbelief.
“You’d have to ask Sarah. She did all the logistics with some of the military people. I’m not so good with that. Hundreds at a time lately. We even let people ask questions, for a friend of course,” Klipyl’s quick response came with a very exaggerated wink.
Sage shifts a little, but when I deliberately look his way, his smirk disappears and he quickly taps his notes. “We’ve got a lot to do to get organised. This isn’t a normal Domain expansion.”
I won’t be telling him I can see in all directions at once regardless of the obstacles.
“I’ve got the normal list of activities for those, should I just add additional tasks or did you want a new plan?” continues Sage glancing in Berry’s direction.
“I swear, Sage; you need to learn to let the Planetars work for a living. You’ve known us the longest, but please give some of the coordination tasks to the troops,” Berry huffs. “Your standard plan? You give a bunch of work to everyone from the Maze who is in the Domain to co-ordinate.”
“We’ll discuss it,” I interject, cutting off Sage’s reply. “That’s my fault as well. No need to shake down a team when you know individuals can work together. What else do you know?”
“We’ll help,” Erwarth states quickly, and gives a respectful nod to Berry that leaves her blinking at the swift offering. “We’ve experience organising fortresses, and I’m sure asking the Domain’s inhabitants for help will be easy. Just let us know the way you normally handle things after a Domain expansion. If anything new comes up we can discuss it first and implement what you need. What do we know about the situation with her killers?”
The word killers, not destroyers, let me move freely again, the tension easing from my form. My relief sends out an energy that washes through the Mantle, and an effortless moment of concentration lets me feel the emotions of relief and hope flowing out through it. I’ll need to explore to see if it’s the same outside the Domain, but I try to spread the news with my relief. She might be gone for now, but there is hope she’ll be back. The joyous response I feel coming back through the Mantle feels like a Balor’s left hook, but I catch Berry’s explanation. My ability to track everything going on around me was far beyond what I’d ever experienced.
“Aside from the Mortal pawn being dead, not a lot. Aggie said the Greek Pantheon attacked the Egyptian Pharaoh’s court and triggered a Gods’ War declaration. People felt it across the kingdoms. They still tracked Soranus down, but there isn’t a need to find the High Priest. A Yin tornado Amdirlain set loose in the summoning circle gutted the whole Temple. Soranus had a record of the events.”
Farhad lets out a long slow breath, the deliberateness of it attracting attention from the others. “What are the restrictions on getting into the ten kingdoms?”
“Didn’t you fight in the last one?” asked Berry.
“When the barrier came up, it appeared on the rolling ocean around the ships of the involved nations. The vessels of other nations outside the barrier crossed it and it expanded; once in though, they couldn’t sail out again.”
Berry sent a Message and repeated the conditions Mirage had learned from the glowing script a moment later.
“Please open a Gate,” asks Farhad, his tone feeling as much an apology as a request.
Licking my lips, I want to say no, but I won’t. “Any placement preferred?”
“Perhaps you should try for Mirage,” replies Farhad. “The cadre will be in touch with numerous communities. The Greek Gods have broken the Law, as they did last time. I think they should be treated as lawbreakers.”
I can see a hint of amusement in his steady gaze but the excuse is thin. Can a Goddess pray to herself? If so, I would. I’ve seen Cyrus’ questioning digging at him for years now. He breathes in relief at my curt nod of understanding but his shoulder shrug is another apology. My Gate opening effortlessly is a surprise, and it forms to reveal Mirage, standing at a table shaped into terrain with some interesting company. The Gate’s position reveals Týr, a dull aura of energy around him, looking far more Mortal than last I’d seen him, especially in the company of Torm. Liranë is visible, just on edge, and I don’t know why she possesses that same energy aura as Týr.
A rainbow of light obscures details beyond the Gate, and they don’t react to its appearance. Though I can see their lips move, no sounds come through the Gate.
“Mirage!”
Berry’s call gets no reaction, which is more like what I’d expected. Though why we can send and receive Message spells but not talk through a Gate is a little odd; tactical advantage, perhaps? Or just because the Spell requires the individual to have shared their name previously? That makes sense. A Gate would let you learn hundreds of names and provide co-ordination, tipping the balance of a war to those you favoured without risk to you.
“Going to tell me to stay safe?” asks Farhad giving me a wry smile.
“No, kill all of those law-breaking bastards you can, but come back to me,” I reply and hold my sabres to him. “I’ve got spares, and I know you can use them. That shouldn’t count as help, should it?”
He pushes them back, but I can see he considered the offer. “I’ll rely on myself but thank you.”
I let the Gate close when he is through but see the smiles that greet his arrival.
“I’ll take over the combat classes for the recent additions. I feel odd and need to move a bit. Let me know if I need to decide anything.”
* * *
I know the moment I see them working hard in the lesson that the intensity of focus comes from a renewal of hope with the news I spread. It’s an effort not to know their moods and thoughts; even if I don’t know every detail, it feels invasive.
Late in the class I step close to a Hound Archon to show him how the counter is supposed to work. When I try to match his size Protean not only doesn’t respond—it objects. Confusion at the Power’s repeated failure has me focusing on myself. What I find has me stop and check again; my flesh is fine but I sense a Soul floating in my womb. The foetus’ growth matches the ones I’ve scried within breeders over the years. I don’t have to wonder how long I’ve been pregnant—just over a day. I can see her now, still growing as quickly as any Succubi foetus, minute, with her limbs and face clearly formed. She’s Elven featured like so many Succubi but thankfully not, and lacks wings, or even nubs. Focusing purely on her form in the darkness of my womb, I know her skin is golden-bronze.
“Are you alright, Lady Ebusuku?”
“I’m pregnant? Amdirlain, you little minx, what did your Mantle do to me?”
The questions are barely whispered off my lips, but the whole class freezes.
* * *
Drifting in the darkness, shrouded in an energy that makes her fingers twitch across shining notes, she soaks in the warm tranquillity. Within that calm, the booming voice of a Greater Power distantly demanding answers with her name makes itself heard. Not waking fully, Amdirlain shifts position with a sleepy yawn and returns to her dream.
Just five minutes more mum.