Amdirlain’s PoV - Culerzic
With her hand pressed against the wall beneath the first archway, Amdirlain paused and glanced at Torm. “This will take a little while. Did my arrival interrupt anything urgent?”
“I was harvesting giant necrotic worms from the Blood Fields’ far edge so our cell leader could trade them for the local currency?”
“Cell leader?”
“Isn’t that the right term?” Torm asked before he shrugged. “Anyway, we normally only operate in groups of five. To prevent the risk of exposing multiple groups if anyone becomes compromised, we conduct all arrangements for groups within the Abyss via external agents.”
“Sarah fed you too many movies it seems. What’s so special about those necrotic worms?” asked Amdirlain.
Her suggestion only earned a wry smile. “Some demons enjoy the taste as they feed off the pain and misery of the impaled souls. They’re also good bait for those fishing the Kraken breeds that inhabit the abyssal seas.”
“I’ve seen Kraken-hide armour, and it held some high-end enchantments,” commented Amdirlain thoughtfully.
“Too much abyssal energy in the material for it to survive beyond the lower planes. While it’s concerning that we are contributing to their equipment, it’s still only items with limited usefulness,” explained Torm.
“Oh, being selective about how you’re getting coins?”
“Very.”
The bags of abyssal coins she’d held in Inventory quickly formed a small mound along one wall. “Your team can have the lot if it will help free slaves.”
Crouching next to the stack, Torm peered inside a bag and glanced up at Amdirlain. “I need scores of worms larger than me even to get a single pouch of obsidian coins. We might have picked the wrong prey.”
“You’ve selected something used for food or harvesting materials with limited usefulness outside the Abyss. Whereas, among other things, I’ve sold poisonous materials to a Fae-Devil Alchemist.”
“Erwarth mentioned that contact of yours. Did you know Lorrella’s more likely to use the materials to kill demons than help them?” Torm asked with a dry chuckle.
“Why’s that?”
Torm smiled at her and deliberately raised a single eyebrow. “Ebusuku didn’t mention that Erwarth figures she’s one of Hell’s agents?”
The news had Amdirlain clicking her tongue as she considered what Analysis had told her. “No, she hadn’t. The Analysis details said Lorrella had come to the Abyss as an act of rebellion against Hell’s regulations, yet admittedly it said nothing about her current allegiances.”
Amdirlain paused and gestured at the closest wall. “Are the concealments in place enough, or do you want to add more?”
“Perhaps you can spend some time giving me magic lessons,” Torm murmured and nodded reassuringly. “They look secure to me, so I’d say we’re safe to talk on more delicate subjects. Livia and Ebusuku mentioned you’ve recovered some memories, but we didn’t talk about them when I visited. Have you recovered more while in the Maze?”
“I’ve not talked about much in the way of my memories. I had a guarded conversation about one with Livia, and I don’t think she quite understood what I meant. Though it’s likely just as well, I’m now of the opinion that some of my memories would put a target on anyone’s back, especially mine.”
The statement caused Torm’s eyebrows to rise. “If you need to talk about them, I’d take that chance for you,”
“I’m not sure there is a point to risking anyone over them. Just because I remember how things were, doesn’t mean I can restore them.”
“The offer still stands. Though, speaking of risk, are you planning just to lie low?” Torm asked, standing upright. Though his expression gave nothing away, his music was a mix of concern and curiosity.
As if she’d bitten into something sour, Amdirlain’s lips twisted. “No, I’ll be careful about what fights I get involved in, but I won’t be sitting idle.”
Even as she’d tried to reassure him, Torm had smiled in relief. “Thanks.”
“For what, letting you know I’m more than slightly insane?” asked Amdirlain with a laugh of relief at his ready acceptance.
“I don’t think you’re insane, and I’m sure you have your reasons for not just going into a besieged state,” replied Torm. “It was for being open with me about your intentions and for whatever weighing of the risks you end up doing. I’ll let you get more concealments up before we talk further.”
Amdirlain only continued the expansion of the space while her Mana continued to recover, but her Mana capacity meant that she needed plenty of time. The initial corridor had expanded into a complex of rooms, with each of the four archways used for rooms with a different purpose. In the first, she created an area for private rooms, with additional rooms laid out in case of guests. The second archway led into the beginning of a library, while the third had a corridor with two circular domed chambers that Amdirlain planned to ward, especially for casting practice.
The fourth area had her pause, and at Amdirlain’s hesitation, Torm spoke up. “Problem?”
“An engineering issue. The other chambers have been straightforward with the strength I can hear in the rock, just joined cubes or smooth domes. But in this area, I want an ample space, which means I’ll need to get the support right,” explained Amdirlain.
“Too used to doing everything yourself,” teased Torm. “How is your Mana recovering? It seems to swirl around you less now.”
“About a quarter recovered,” replied Amdirlain. “Once it reached the ten per cent mark, the effect on the area’s Mana started to reduce. It doesn’t feel so strange under my skin now.”
Torm motioned upward with a casual grin. “Plenty of people on other planes can help design a space with proper ceiling support. I take it that once you have a plan, you’d be able to carve it out with enough precision to please a Dwarven engineer? That’s if you don’t want to ask the Lómë in Ternòx for their advice.”
“Okay, you have a point,” admitted Amdirlain, ruefully scratching the back of her head.
Torm smiled warmly and brushed a stray hair away from her face. “You’re fixating on doing everything yourself again. I saw it in Eyrarháls, and Sarah said you used to get this way, but I thought you were delegating better. Don’t think because you’re Planar Locked that we can’t help.”
Already distracted from her excavations, Amdirlain reached out and caressed Torm’s face. “I need to push my skills and levels. The last time I sat still instead of gaining levels didn’t end well. Even though I gained a lot of levels in the Maze, I also don’t have a Tier 7 achievement for my next Prestige Class.”
“You don’t? I would have thought freeing the aspect-”
“I burnt it up taking a Prestige Class after 120,” interjected Amdirlain.
A snort accompanied the warbling notes within Torm’s Song that almost had Amdirlain laughing. “You took a Prestige Class at what level?”
Amdirlain gave him a deliberately guileless smile. “Technically, it was at 122 that I took the Class but I had planned to only go for 120. I got details on a Fallen’s transformation options and figured it was best to hold off. I’d been fighting maze guardians and got a little carried away, so I went beyond my targeted level.”
When Torm motioned for her to go on, Amdirlain set further concealments before she began. As soon as she completed the first, Torm started to speak, but Amdirlain continued her castings. It was only after all the chambers sat under multiple layers of concealments that Amdirlain explained the information she’d learned about Fallen transformations. He’d sat cross-legged opposite her when she began and listened quietly without interruption. When she’d finished, he sat in quiet contemplation, and Amdirlain held her tongue to give him time to think things through.
“I’ll admit I’m worried about what such a transformation will do, yet you’re right, a Demon Lady evolution is likely to have an even greater impact. If this transformation gives you enough power to take on Balnérith without risking that evolution, even better,” offered Torm. “I’d prefer you get clear of the Abyss without trying to take on the Titan’s problems, but I’m not foolish. From your few mentions of her, I can tell you mean to destroy her, if possible.”
“Torm, I’m not counting on being able to avoid needing that evolution as well,” admitted Amdirlain. “Yet if I take the transformation route, it has to be before I evolve.”
“The redemption path is only for the Fallen, isn’t that what Rex said when he shared the information about it?”
For a moment, Amdirlain considered holding back the information but pushed the worry aside. “That’s what our host knew, but it’s not right.”
“What source of information did you find?”
“I recovered the memory of its creation, but I don’t quite know how it will react to me,” allowed Amdirlain, holding back a grimace for her concerns. “The redemption path is an object that assesses the evil deeds committed before touching it. Whenever a being touches it again, it weighs every action committed since and determines if the individual is making amends or not.”
The music in Torm relaxed during her explanation, and the slow tempo of his tapping fingers matched his Song. “Their deeds are the judge of their sincerity.”
He went to continue but paused with his lips slightly parted and his gaze narrowed. “So, what’s the problem you see?”
“Problems. First is that celestials are the ultimate examples of good, so it doesn’t consider whatever eons of good deeds they might have done. It assesses only the evil deeds they’ve taken satisfaction in before their Fallen state for which they need to make amends.”
“Do you believe it will judge you for all your past lives?” asked Torm, and she could hear his determination clamp down on an internal protest.
[Resonance [M] (38->39)]
“I don’t know.”
The admission didn’t help him much, but Torm nodded a ready acceptance. “What happens if you slip from the path?”
“If that slip takes you into a worse state than you started with, it destroys you,” admitted Amdirlain.
The sudden jangled music from Torm had Amdirlain offer a reassuring smile before she continued to divert him. “It’s certainly not the best news. It would have been great if I’d gotten there, and with one touch, I got declared not guilty and sent on my way. But the evil deeds of those who appealed for a way to redeem themselves inspired its precepts.”
“How bad?”
“While she didn’t create it to punish them further, she could hear their deeds and wanted any redemption to be earned with the possibility of a disaster included for those that wavered.”
“Alright, at least she didn’t completely weigh the scales against you,” stated Torm. “Do you think it will help if you make amends for whatever it decides requires atonement?”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Amdirlain didn’t hesitate to nod and saw Torm relax this time. “If the assessed being has done enough to redeem themselves, it frees them from the Abyss. When it does so, it converts them into a being of equivalent strength native to the Plane that matches their nature.”
So since I have a crippled Primordial’s Soul, what will it make me?
Firm bass notes rumbled across her skin and matched the intensity in his gaze. “Alright, I’ll help however I can.”
“The deeper abyssal planes aren’t places I want to risk you, Torm,” warned Amdirlain. “It’s hard even having you here thinking about what could happen to you. I won’t reject your help here, but please don’t ask to accompany me to places like Ijmti.”
Torm caressed a hand reassuringly along her shoulder before he leant forward to embrace her. “I know there are places where I can’t risk going, but those are years away. For now, I’ll be here for you, I promise.”
With a relaxed sigh, Amdirlain wiggled closer to make it easier for him to hold her. “Thank you, Torm. Are you planning to introduce me to your team?”
“Last time I introduced you to some celestials didn’t go so well. I’d suggest we work on what they need together, and I’ll conduct any deliveries separately. There are plenty of others you can speak to through gates once your base is secure.”
“Bases, but I’ll follow your lead if you’re not sure about involving your team.”
“Your safety is too important, and I won’t risk those that don’t need to know about your presence when you’re Planar Locked,” stated Torm. “My Liege pointed out to others a few times that justice doesn’t require sharing everything you know. Indeed, it’s more likely for injustice to occur from people making a hasty judgement on information they shouldn’t possess and aren’t qualified to weigh up correctly.”
“Not arguing,” protested Amdirlain. “I’ve certainly been too trusting in the past, sometimes for self-destructive reasons.”
“Verdandi wondered why you were so quick to offer your True Name.”
“Children were always a sore point with me; I couldn’t have them in my previous life. So being even an innocent party involved in Livia’s death gave B the chance to take over, but I didn’t remember when I got free,” admitted Amdirlain. “After what I thought I’d done to the slavers, I was already wondering if I’d become a monster. That led me to mishandle the situation with Aquila, and I partly hoped Verdandi could lock me away with my True Name before the Sisterhood made me even worse.”
“Ellynia help you work that out?”
“Yeah,” murmured Amdirlain. “She had me working on reviewing those memories I’d gained from Soul Sight, but also my own memories.”
“I noticed you said past life,” observed Torm.
“One of the Titan’s offers was to let my Soul leave the realm, but that made it clear it would simply be born somewhere else. Even though I’ve not called myself Julia in years, I still clung to her for so long. She’s a big part of me, but I’m no longer who I was, and I’m still finding out who I’ll become.”
“Isn’t that the case with everyone? The transformation into a Celestial requires letting go of the past and focusing on what our Liege needs from us,” offered Torm.
Amdirlain squeezed him tight and felt his solid muscles not even shift under the extra strength in her arms. “I’m still a lightweight compared to you; it seems I don’t have to worry about hugging you hard.”
“Your Willpower leaves mine far behind,” countered Torm.
“Well, now that we’ve finished complimenting each other, who do you think I should contact?”
“If it would help, I’ll gladly shower you with well-deserved compliments. Who do you least want to contact for help with your base?”
Isa couldn’t hear my music before, so I hope, like Sarah, it will be the case without the vines. Orhêthurin had so many secrets that the last thing I want is to spill them out before I even remember the details.
“Let me think on that one,” groaned Amdirlain. Sitting back slightly, she laced her fingers with Torm’s. “Why did Isa end up talking to the Lómë?”
“You, well, the possibility that Gail was you. Isa heard snippets in Gail’s Song that reminded her of your world, your home and school,” explained Torm, caressing the back of her hand where the tattoo had once been.
“She wouldn’t go there to help the Lómë, but she dragged Ilya there at a chance of helping me?” asked Amdirlain, distracted by her thoughts.
Torm gave a slight headshake and gently squeezed her hand. “I wasn’t there, but Ilya dragged herself there, apparently, said she wouldn’t let Isa go alone. If you’re worried about the possibility that others might have pushed them into going, it was Isa’s suggestion.”
“No problems with learning True Song from the Lómë?”
“I’ve not heard the details on the process, only about what they’ve achieved from Erwarth.”
Amdirlain smiled at Torm’s hand still clasping hers and pushed the worries aside. “I had learned some of it by listening to Psi techniques and the change in the music they’ve caused, but if they can teach Isa-”
“Might not be as effective since they can’t come here, but keeping a Gate open within a grotto’s perimeter should hopefully be safe,” suggested Torm.
Amdirlain considered the situation with the caverns. “I know several locations occupied by the Lómë; if I set a Gate near one, would you be my envoy?”
“It would be my honour.”
Though Amdirlain let go as she stood, Torm flowed to his feet in time with her and kept their handclasp intact.
“Don’t you want to let me go?” asked Amdirlain happily.
“Not right away, as I treasure every moment at present. I’m delighted my duty to my Liege puts me in a position to help you, Amdirlain,” stated Torm.
“I’ll have to get your boss something extra nice,” laughed Amdirlain, and she headed back into the main corridor. She quickly activated the Spell while picturing the ledge where she’d found Sírdhem and the others. The Gate’s boundary appeared at the far end of the corridor and banished the darkness. As the ethereal singing from the Grotto washed across them, Torm inhaled in surprise and glanced between the Gate and Amdirlain, ready to move her away.
“This grotto has expanded as well, but it seems I could have gotten much closer as a Fallen than I risked,” offered Amdirlain. Shedding the wingless Alu-Demon she’d kept while carving out her base, Amdirlain motioned Torm towards the Gate. “If you would be so kind?”
“But of course,” replied Torm, and he released her other hand. He hesitated momentarily, only to brush some wayward strands of electric-blue hair into place behind her ear. “I’ll be right back.”
As he moved forward, Amdirlain walked with him to the Gate’s threshold, glad the discomfort from the music’s pressure she’d first felt as a Succubus wasn’t present. Torm stepped through without hesitation, and Amdirlain heard the music’s beauty interacting with his nature. With barely any delay, he headed towards the Grotto’s interior, having taken only time for a wave and a blown kiss. Before getting more than a half-dozen paces, Amdirlain heard the Song’s purification effect wash an edge of tension from his core.
Though the Lómë were likely to hear the truth within his form, he shifted from Cambion to Celestial in appearance, though he kept his height. While she waited, Amdirlain touched her fingers against the Gate’s threshold and listened to the lock’s tension preventing her from crossing.
Torm had barely been out-of-sight for ten minutes before he reappeared, accompanied by four Elven figures. Isa and Ilya still wore the appearance of Andúnë elves. Their auburn hair tied back in loose ponytails accented their high cheekbones and angular features. When Isa’s silvery gaze fixed on Amdirlain, her music shivered between relief and concern. The concern in Ilya’s blue eyes matched the theme in her Song, but her attention was on Isa alone.
The Lómë couple who appeared with Torm didn’t wait for them to speak but walked towards the Gate. They were opposites of each other in attire and, from their music, apparently personality. The male Lómë wore casual robes of an amber hue that didn’t go well with his emerald green eyes. Unkempt and shoulder-length, his silvery hair looked like he’d run fingers through it frequently; whether to comb it or in frustration, it was in an untidy state.
In contrast, the female Lómë wore solid plates of sung midnight-blue armour, stars glowing within the crystal. The severe theme within her Song didn’t seek to quash her husband’s music but moved to support and guard him. It was that music that added an extra depth to the determination in her silvery eyes.
Yet despite their differences, they both held a theme that spoke of a sense of familiarity and made Amdirlain sure that they recognised her face.
The sudden appearance of a Solar beyond Isa yanked Amdirlain’s gaze away from them, but their music showed a lack of surprise. She wasclad in the same style of golden armour Amdirlain had seen Ebusuku wear, with the symbol of a candle surrounded by broken chains upon her breastplate. Her six glowing white wings folded back only to disappear as Erwarth strode forward and prompted Isa to get herself into gear.
“Lady Laleither, and Lord Roher, I’d like to introduce you to Lady Amdirlain, formerly Lady Orhêthurin,” stated Erwarth, not giving anyone else a chance to speak. “Lady Amdirlain, these are my parents, Lady Laleither and Lord Roher.”
“While your current state hides your music, Lady Amdirlain, we recognise Lady Orhêthurin’s face. We’re glad that Isa’s denial of your possible destruction was correct,” Roher offered.
“Please, you’re Erwarth's parents, just call me Amdirlain. I’m glad Erwarth found you both alive when so many others perished. How are your people faring?”
“They’re much improved, Amdirlain. While I could talk about all the improvements for weeks, your envoy said you needed help. What do you need of us?” asked Laleither.
“I’ve three priorities, two immediate and one long term. Short term, I need means to secure and conceal a location, and also any memory crystals for learning True Song,”
“You have access to it again?” started Roher and raised a hand to halt her answer. “My apologies. That was a silly question. I imagine you wouldn’t be asking if you couldn’t hear the Song again.”
“I’ve taught myself a few things from memories I’ve recovered. But my recollection remains fragmented, and I want to ensure I don’t make a mistake I could avoid.”
“As Isa found, our uses of True Song are similar, but the energies that we can invoke differ. If you would like, I could teach you myself, though my focus is more about uses in battle,” offered Laleither. “After we get past the fundamentals, I could introduce you to additional teachers to discuss more subtle uses.”
“Teaching through a Gate won’t be a problem?”
Laleither gestured to one side, and Amdirlain took in the unconcerned intent behind it. “I doubt you’ll have an issue with careless intent disrupting the Gate’s energies. If it proves an issue, we’ll work something out.”
At her words, Isa, who’d lingered in the background, stepped up beside Laleither. “Would you be okay with me helping? With you being so far underground, I doubt anything would detect my presence in your base.”
“Why don’t we set up a concealment barrier first?” asked Laleither. “You and Roher might have proven correct with the last gamble you took, but I prefer to be strategic about protecting everyone.”
Themes of guilt and tension whirled around in Isa’s music, and Amdirlain gave her a warm smile that had her blinking back tears. “I’d love that, Isa. I couldn’t use spells within the Maze, but I’ve been duplicating Psi techniques and their effects.”
A sudden rush of tears from Isa had Ilya clasp her shoulder in moral support. “Did you jump straight into using it as someone else did? She got scolded by Roher for that approach.”
“I regained the ability to hear it first, but I didn’t have spare Class slots available. When I finally did, I first spent time on pure singing practice.”
Her statement earned a nod of satisfaction from Laleither, who’d moved to the other side of Isa and rubbed her back with almost parental affection. “Some are just wilder than others. Isa regained some memories you might wish to discuss. She recalled being trained by you in life.”
“I don’t know if you remember, but Orhêthurin was a brutal taskmaster, yet Mori enjoyed the challenge,” blurted Isa through her silent tears. Guilt, relief, and happiness at the sight of her warbled erratically through her Song with an undercurrent of pain.
“I remember some of it, and that teaching helped my initial singing practice. The elephant in the room first: you weren’t to blame for what happened, Isa. I was a fucked up mess and eventually would have broken. Like running along full pelt at work and then immediately getting sick the first day of holidays; I’d pushed myself too far for too long,” said Amdirlain.
Isa opened her mouth to argue, and Amdirlain raised a hand and softly hushed her.
“Listen when I say this, okay? To me, the problem wasn't you. I had too many mental wounds festering away, and my control finally slipped. The things I learned at the monastery helped me free from the vines. Without taking the time to learn them when I did, I might never have gotten free, and the visualisation techniques help to add intent to True Song. So how about we call it a no-ball and get on with the innings?”
“Bloody cricket fans,” grumbled Isa playfully. A quick melody flowed from Isa and shrouded the Celestial energies within her form. Amdirlain moved back to let her through when she stepped toward the Gate. When Isa was clear of the Gate, she pounced to hug Amdirlain. Unfazed by the impact, Amdirlain wrapped her arms around Isa, aware of how delicate she felt.
"I made an ungrateful pig's breakfast of it as well, and needed my arse kicked. Even if you want to take the blame, I won't let you; you were off balance and weird from my perspective, but I was bitchy about it. Instead of telling you how you came across, I reacted to it after telling you off about doing the same with Ilya. Even before that, I thought about the Gate you first opened almost continuously, yet I attacked you instead of even attempting friendly contact."
"Let's just write it off as Luck pushing your brain around," offered Amdirlain.
“Maybe it was Luck at play, but I still brought up all that pain,” sobbed Isa, her face buried against Amdirlain’s shoulder. “Then everyone thought you were destroyed, and I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t let that Message I’d provoked be the last time I heard from you.”
“How about a do-over?”
Isa waggled her head but kept her face tucked in against Amdirlain. Her tear-filled voice was further muffled by her position. “I’d love one, but not this time. We had our plans to get free, but you freed us, and the groves here have eased so much of Ilya’s pain. I won’t pretend none of that happened, I just wish people would stop throwing it in my face.”
“We don’t have to forget it, but I don’t hold it against you. We can both learn from it,” offered Amdirlain, rubbing gentle, reassuring circles across Isa’s back as Erwarth’s mother had done. The shift in her music at the contact made it clear why Laleither had comforted Isa that way.
“I still can’t hear your Song,” huffed Isa in protest.
I didn’t get it before, but now it would be unsettling.
The immediate thought Amdirlain pushed aside, feeling shame-faced by its distraction. “Well, I can hear yours, and it’s all over the place.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling emotionally off balance at present,” admitted Isa, who noisily sniffed.
“Your music’s usual theme is still pretty erratic, I’d say, or am I wrong in that?”
“There may be some truth in that,” laughed Isa.