Sarah’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)
With Amdirlain’s laughter dancing in her mind, Sarah headed to the stairs. She’d already changed her normal red fur to dark brown so those pursuing Amdirlain shouldn’t recognise her. That’s if they even bothered to look behind them. Amdirlain’s security staff usually had at least one near her; instead, she was walking about alone. Still, in the name of precautions, Sarah set a mental dissonance to scrub away her importance. It was a mind trick that various gem dragons used to blend into the background of their normal crystal lairs. Though its purpose was to let intruders pass so the Dragon could ensure dinner didn’t get away, now it just made her another person on the busy sidewalk.
The Matriarch’s agents spread a wide net as they followed the doomsayers tailing Amdirlain. They made for a cute procession of ducklings when Amdirlain turned into the mall she’d pretended to be focused on. The decorative metal of the building’s facade allowed Sarah to catch the casual glances Amdirlain used to track those tailing her. The closest of her stalkers were too far away to catch the motion. Most of those tailing her were already inside when Sarah reached the mall’s entrance.
From somewhere within, a string quartet were playing for the shopping crowd. A gleeful amusement surged through the mental link, and the music halted. It took a few minutes before the playing resumed, but it was upbeat and cheerful instead of relaxing and mellow. The intro of a familiar song finished, and Amdirlain’s voice lifted above the hum of the shopping mall’s crowd.
“My petals flutter, and my pollen stirs.
You’re the sun I turn to, and your warmth makes me yearn.”
Sarah almost snorted, holding back laughter at the choice of song. The innuendo-laden lyrics had shoppers dispatching notes and raising units to make calls. Others excitedly buzzed and picked up the pace towards the mall’s central chamber. The galleries around its perimeter became packed as Amdirlain’s presence embraced those within the mall. Sarah got ahead of the curve and sent a note to the local law keepers to let them know an impromptu ‘Am’ performance was underway.
‘Subtlety check failed.’
‘No, you sank that ship. I’m going to work on spotting them out among the crowd.’ Laughter rolled down the mental link, and Sarah had to grind her teeth to keep it contained.
Quickly taking the stairs to the third-floor gallery, Sarah figured out Amdirlain’s game. Among the sudden press of the crowd, the doomsayers and enforcers alike were having trouble. Shoppers continued to flock out of shops, and their whistles and cheers fought the music. Despite the competition, Amdirlain’s voice lifted effortlessly above the clamour of their excitement. As the chorus began again, voices in the crowd lifted to chase Amdirlain’s and sang along. Her Charisma had swept out, but it wasn’t a tease or explicit sexual undertone, but pure joy and Amdirlain’s gaze glowed with life and fun.
Her energy wrapped around the professional band, and the timbre of their playing changed. Before, they’d been four musicians playing competently but not quite meshing; now, they built off each other and played as one. The little fumbles were still there, but they became something special that set their music apart.
The glee in Amdirlain’s gaze became delight, and she turned back to them to give them an approving nod. It was a token of appreciation that Orhêthurin would have never given to a stranger and rarely to those closer, to whom she could be especially wary. The difference in their behaviour made Sarah aware of how freely Orhêthurin bestowed that approval on Sarah throughout her reincarnations. For a moment, jealousy rose through her that these strangers could possess a treasured symbol of their closeness, but Sarah took it apart, and logic prevailed. Yet it wasn’t logic alone, but happiness for Amdirlain as she let her music include others rather than accompany them.
As the chorus came around again, the crowd again started to sing along—mostly off-key—but Amdirlain was unbothered by the noise. No longer burdened by Femme Fatale’s influence, her joy wasn’t simply part of the show. Sarah felt a calm relief grow inside her as Amdirlain belted out one song and then a second before she turned the third into a full-on sing-along. The fourth song started like a fan favourite, but the words immediately diverged over the familiar tune.
Instead of a sexually laced innuendo, it was an accusation that stabbed at the Matriarch in her ivory tower, using the worship of personality, a religion of might, and the expectation of unquestioned obedience. The crowd hushed and listened as scorn and derision soared through her words. Razor blades of passionate contempt had the Matriarch's agents seeking confirmation of their orders to take her quietly. Despite how it stirred them, it wasn’t the most comfortable song for the crowd, and Amdirlain left it behind with another pair of playful melodies.
When Amdirlain finally wrapped up, she stopped and introduced each quartet member to the crowd to receive their share of cheers. She passed them some coins for their trouble and slid off the back of the stage. The audience swirled around her, and Sarah could spot the pursuers trying to get closer in the press. When the quartet started playing again, it was back to their mellow set piece, and Amdirlain initially sang with them from among the crowd. Her wordless vocalisation inspired a gentle calm and care in the crowd, and they suddenly stopped trying to push forward.
Though reined in, their excitement still bubbled beneath the surface, but it was a satisfied happiness instead of craving for more. Among the doomsayers, one pushed through the crowd, and Amdirlain spotted his motion. She slipped away among shoppers and went upstairs to glimpse her stalkers from the floor above. Sarah noticed her wink, and the roar from some fans briefly drowned out the music.
‘What floor are you on at present?’
Along with Amdirlain's question, a map of the mall’s first two floors came through the link, with glowing tags to show the ones she’d spotted in the crowd.
‘I’m now on the fourth floor. There are at least three more on the second floor; you’ll need to be higher to see them. Two doomsayers, one enforcer.’
‘Challenge accepted.’ Amdirlain sent an anime-cat girl in a maid’s outfit to run through the link, with a pink Dragon in pursuit.
‘You’re going to get in trouble.’
Moving towards the shop fronts got Sarah free of the crowd, and she released eight cloaked drones. The enchanted discs wafted above the shoppers and into the central courtyard. Splitting them two to a floor, Sarah studied her suddenly multi-faceted viewpoint. The music’s calming effect enticed the shoppers to return to their errands. Instead of making it easier for her pursers, those following Amdirlain had to cross the chaotic crowd of shoppers.
As Amdirlain got on the next set of stairs, she exchanged hugs and handshakes with fans. The interaction with the crowd gave her an excuse to look about, and she sent the positions of five pursuers to Sarah.
‘You’re still missing at least one on the second floor. More moved up to follow you. Get good?’
Amdirlain’s merriment strengthened in the link. ‘I should have never told you that Gideon used that to troll me.’
‘Which way out are you aiming for?’
‘A side alley currently, might let them think they can corner me. I’ll go up one more floor to get them to commit and then go down through one of the multi-level department stores.’
‘Are we doing catch and release, or are you just playing with your food?’
Gleeful snorting echoed in the link. ‘I’m a kitty; I must play with my food.’
Not responding to the bait, Sarah headed for the mall’s midpoint. Her proximity didn’t matter for drone response times, but it made it easier for her to link up with Amdirlain if needed.
Slipping between the shoppers, Sarah heard a few fans arguing with others about the unsuitable lyrics. While a few of the adults were oblivious to the fuss, Am’s reputation meant most were aware of what they were supposed to mean. The flowery-themed songs had drawn on suggestive prose to get their meaning across. Sarah was amused by their discussions but remained focused on monitoring today’s participants. Her focus let her pick up two more that had joined the pursuit.
Amdirlain’s passage through the department store didn’t go as smoothly as she’d hoped. She was barely three steps inside when a gushing manager came forward to welcome her and offer to help her with her selections. Sarah watched Amdirlain loop her arm through the lady’s and steer her towards the store’s rear. The manager’s tail flickered back and forth smoothly, and she gave Amdirlain a beaming smile.
‘Change of plans. I’ll keep spotting them while I make this lady’s day.’
Sarah scoffed. ‘You had a plan?’
‘Fine, a vague idea. We’re just playing. I can leave any time.’
Grumbling, Sarah replied with an image of Amdirlain playing poker, showing her hand off to everyone while playing blindfolded.
‘That doesn’t matter since they don’t know the game I’m playing. Just like the Patron families thinking they could keep control by seizing the first interface.’
Amdirlain ran the mostly male observers through the shopping trip from hell. They lingered in areas with staff quick to question the reason for their presence or trying to entice them to purchase something for the special lady in their lives. Amdirlain had deliberately sampled dozens of perfumes in their faces, obliterating their chance to track her by scent alone. Learning to keep their distance had turned it into the game she’d preferred—spotting them among the crowd or in sheltered hideaways.
After hours of tormenting them, Amdirlain slipped into a deserted stairwell and, out of sight, teleported into a quiet corridor on the first floor where Sarah joined her. After changing their appearance, the pair slipped away.
‘You got upgrades?’ questioned Sarah.
A kitten with their gaze fixed on a blade of grass came back. ‘Only one in Perception.’
‘You’re a senior master in that, so you can’t complain,’ projected Sarah.
‘I can complain; it just won’t do me any good.’
Outside the mall, fading sunlight glinted from something in a ‘nature spot’ between buildings and caught Sarah’s gaze. She wondered momentarily if Amdirlain had unleashed the enchanted orbs to gather information again. Amdirlain’s early comment, and the accuracy of draconic memories, rushed the day’s events through her in a detailed, lightning-fast recall.
Amdirlain had tried to allow the patrons to coordinate with her, but their seizure of Amdirlain’s device had quickly spelled their doom. After the first attempt to stonewall Wha’sin, Amdirlain had turned on full transparency mode to bypass authorities and any Eldritch influence. Concerned about people being harmed through panic, she’d wanted to minimise rumours and ensure people would get all the same information.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
The original Laen orb had been of Sarah’s devising, and Amdirlain had duplicated its song to ensure the enchantments were detectable. It had sent all responses to a psi-crystal for the data to get sorted.
The broadcast targeted the common enchantment elements they’d found in all receivers; its strength had overwhelmed everything else that morning.
“Good morning to everyone listening. I represent a group of people trying to strengthen the city’s citizens against the plague of the Gods’ Grave. Shortly, a training complex will open to allow all those with combat, scouting, or gathering classes to progress without the hindrance of Patron-regulated hunting permits.
"We tried coordinating this with the patrons, but they’ve ignored our attempts and won’t communicate. Hence, we are announcing this to everyone directly, so you might benefit before they try to restrict it to themselves again. So cheer up; it’s not just you. They ignore stronger people as well.
"To facilitate the organisation of this complex, special link units will appear around the city. Look for the crystal orbs in the green zones along major roads. Anyone answering a series of questions through these link units will receive a suitable gift. This will be based on the number of questions you answer about training scenarios and your levelling requirements. There is a limit of one gift per individual responding, but we don’t intend to place a time limit on the responses.
Once we collect sufficient information, the entry points to the training facility will open, but we’ll still accept your input. We will provide information about challenges within the facility. Risks are involved like any hunt, so they should be taken seriously. Thank you.”
“How would the Matriarch react if something like the training complex appeared there?” asked Sarah.
Amdirlain snorted, and her tail expressively thrashed in frustration. “I think they’d look to lock it down for their military alone under pain of death for anyone daring to use it.”
“The creators bypassed all the patrons here; what’s to say they won’t do it there?” questioned Sarah carefully as she followed Amdirlain towards a transporter stop.
“The patrons don’t see themselves as near-divine immortal kings,” replied Amdirlain.
“Eww, really?” questioned Sarah, as Amdirlain’s words drew the attention of those around them.
“The Matriarch is likely a puppet on her father’s throne,” advised Amdirlain. “Their family control all the Wizard education, and only those deemed loyal survive it.”
“Why are we using a transporter?” questioned Sarah.
“Is that what we’re doing? Though perching in the high seats is fun,” countered Amdirlain. Only to walk past the stop to wave at some agents in a vehicle beyond it before she teleported away.
When they got to their apartment building, the light panels had come on to illuminate the sidewalk and front entrances, even though it wasn't completely dark yet.
Amdirlain took Sarah’s hand and grinned as they headed for the door. “That was fun.”
The gentle squeeze of her fingers made Sarah ache for more, but she huffed instead. “You were trolling what, for many, is dangerous prey.”
“I know,” growled Amdirlain, and she sent an image of a bully getting a thrashing. “I learnt too much I didn’t like today.”
As they headed inside, Sarah didn’t let go of her hand. It might not be what she wanted most, but the joy Amdirlain radiated today was enough.
They found Kadaklan upstairs in the apartment watching an entertainment report about Am's foray into politics.
“The Matriarch declared you an enemy of the state and moral people everywhere,” advised Kadaklan.
Amdirlain nodded. “A moral enemy. I think I’ll make your hollow world idea and give all the residents in her country a chance to run.”
“What would they do there?”
“I can still give them access to training complexes. That would supply them meat and materials; maybe I’ll add some plant-based enemies they can harvest grains from,” laughed Amdirlain. “I’ll ask Ebusuku if she can supply some magical instructors.”
Sarah huffed. “That’s why you need to learn to fly beneath the radar. When someone takes a poke at you, you punch back.”
“You disapprove?”
“No, take down the despot, just be careful not to add to the plinth’s bill,” said Sarah, and she squeezed Amdirlain’s hand, expecting her to release it.
Instead, Amdirlain turned to her and hugged her tight. “Thanks.”
“For what?” questioned Sarah, wondering if she’d given herself away.
“Everything, Sarah, everything.”
Balnérith's PoV - Ijmti
Where one of her oldest fortresses had once stood, was a deep chasm that radiated out like fractures through the destroyed forest. Laodice’s spear had shattered the ground, but that hadn’t been the limit of the destruction. It had carried on to rupture the sealed chambers of prisoners thousands of kilometres beyond its deepest point. Her footwork destroyed hundreds of kilometres of forest, proving her dedication to the strike. Where Laodice had laid waste, Naamah’s death aura ensured it wouldn’t regrow.
An identical, full-breasted Succubus in black leather armour and the Sisterhood of the Blood’s crest stood just out of arm’s reach. The distance was not from fear, but their partly unfurled wings would otherwise clash. Though she appeared to be a Succubus, beneath the surface Balnérith could make out their once-Celestial figure. Their journey so far had not been kind to the Castellan. Glowing eyes looked mould-infested and, beneath the Succubus’ angular features, her skin peeled and rotted from the bone. Her beauty was long faded, only bones and scraps of sinew remained of her once-brilliant white wings.
“Why return here?” asked Castellan. Though the familiar name she’d used for aeons now rubbed Balnérith wrong, since they had no fortresses, castles, or even keeps left for Balnérith to claim. They didn’t even have an order left to rebuild or the means to ensure those who joined were truly bound to follow her instructions.
Balnérith’s top lip curled with barely contained fury, and she stabbed a talon at the chasm. “Laodice wasn’t bound in this place. The Leviathan’s blood was in the chamber of bone in Hrz’Styrn. Why did she strike here first upon her release?”
“The battle-hungry slut,” proposed Castellan. The words hissed with her frustration, drawing the steel in her tone across a whetstone.
“Of all the aspects, she’s mentioned no association with them besides her father,” countered Balnérith, her anger unmollified. “I think there is something else going on.”
Castellan shrugged, and her wings flexed to rip the air. “She also mentioned her father had advised her how the bond could weaken.”
“Weakening with each of her deaths—I would have known if she died again,” said Balnérith. “This place digs at me; I’m sure there is more to it than either of them.”
“Does it matter? The traces are too old now to find out how they met, and going near your former prisoners will get us killed. Do we continue establishing a new order or work to open the path between us?” questioned Castellan.
Castellan’s commitment prevented her from proposing another option. Hers was an unswerving dedication to Balnérith that had existed longer than this realm. A dedication that now lent Balnérith the confidence that they could rebuild.
Not acknowledging the importance of her loyalty, Balnérith waved at the forest. “There are some things that would linger.”
“Do you see something new, my lady?”
“It’s not what new things I see here, but what old thing makes sense, especially with what was missing from Hrz’Styrn’s fortress,” replied Balnérith. “Hrz’Styrn’s destruction was because of strikes from one side. Also, we received reports of the irregulars attacking within the fortress. No reports of anything showing Laodice had broken free of the blood on Hrz’Styrn.”
Castellan waited for Balnérith to continue explaining, but she pointed at some nearby stone blocks instead. Turning, she pointed to more before teleporting them to the far side of the chasm and picked up a piece of shattered stonework. Her assistant’s gaze narrowed in suspicion, and she teleported into the forest. Ten minutes later, she returned and dropped hundreds of rock fragments at Balnérith’s feet.
“All around the perimeter are pieces of stonework,” reported Castellan. “Hrz’Styrn’s fragments sprayed in one direction across the plain.”
“Almost like a giant had burst up through the middle of the fortress here and sent pieces flying before the strike,” proposed Balnérith.
Castellan, swearing, ran through dozens of languages, each vile-sounding even with the most common enquiry.
While she worked it out of her system, Balnérith used an array of detection spells before she pointed towards a distant ridgeline and then teleported them to it. Striding along it, Balnérith led the way to a pockmarked ledge on the far side. Despite the roughness of its surface, someone had cut a precise stone ramp into the ledge’s lip as if to slide something free of it and into the forest beyond.
Another Spell lifted dust from the pitted marks etched into the stone, and black dust swirled before Balnérith. “The remains of some of Levithan’s blood, ripe with Death Mana, but no lingering Spell.”
“You believe this is where the slut broke free?” asked Castellan.
“Or got broken free. Potentially, letting her out of the fortress was a mistake; we should have kept her confined and thrown fodder to her to chip away at her aura’s build-up,” replied Balnérith.
Castellan frowned. “She would have kept her aura from acting until she could push it beyond the boundaries of any prison.”
“It’s done now,” hissed Balnérith, and she drew a crystal pendant from a storage device. Another detection Spell had the pendant and a pane before the carved ramp aglow.
"J," spat Castellan.
"J," growled Balnérith, squeezing her hand around the crystal until blood dripped from her palm.
“Which Anar could she be?” grumbled Castellan.
Balnérith looked at Castellan in disbelief. “Only one continued to associate with the aspects after my pawns found and enlightened the rest about the Titan’s traps on their precious worlds. It points to her, especially with Death and his daughter’s efforts.”
Shaking her head, Castellan spat. “You believe such a pitiful creature was Orhêthurin?”
“You propose another name,” snapped Balnérith. “I’ve spent years considering it and keep returning to the impossible. His favoured lackey somehow was bound into the form of a Succubus, the same as I’d bound many Lómë.”
“With Orhêthurin back and the Lómë being free, you’d best be careful of your name, my Lady,” advised Castellan.
“The Lómë free is another question to be answered. How did they find them? How did they unseal the tower? Orhêthurin was never Anar royalty.”
Castellan frowned. “We only know what you were told of the protections. Orhêthurin was around for its original creation. Regarding security, have you been close enough to any of them to hear your song since you changed your name?”
A chill ran through her bones, and Balnérith nodded jerkily. “If J heard my song, I would have expected them to act against me before now. I’ll change my use name, but continue to call me Balnérith. Ensure you don’t use any of my old use names. We’ll meet at the pre-arranged locations, no messaging each other; who knows if I’ve left a pattern Orhêthurin might see or what they might detect.”
“I’ll scout the next planes and gather more of those who remain loyal,” offered Castellan before she disappeared across planes.
The fading glow of the pane near the ledge’s lip hid the shimmer in the air. Catapulting through it, a body blow smashed Balnérith into the rock face, and Naamah purred in her ear. “Hello.”
Balnérith twisted about, lashing out her raking wings and elbows, but Naamah blocked each attempt. Energy exploded around them, devastating the ridgeline, as Balnérith lashed out with spells blindly, trying to drive Naamah off. The spells that ripped through Naamah raged on undiminished, and beyond her, the explosions lit up the forest, turning kilometres to ash. Yet the Succubus’s assault didn’t relent.
Castellan returned and unleashed a targeted assault to aid Balnérith, only to have spiked chains driven through her and reel her groundwards. A pair of burning wings erupted amongst the trees just before a barbed lance drove upwards from their position to pierce Castellan’s shoulder and anchor in her wing bones. The Fallen’s concealment among the tree evaporated further as hundreds of magical daggers erupted towards Castellan. More explosions and weapons cleaving flesh echoed in the forest, driving the inhabitants away. Castellan’s battle fell silent first, but she didn’t come to Balnérith’s aid.
A popping sound came from Balnérith’s back and, a moment later, a wing came free in a spray of blood. The rasp of it rubbing across the stone had barely started when Naamah drove her nails into the empty socket. Using her bones for leverage, Naamah violently smashed Balnérith against the ground, destroying anything in the way.
Naamah clamped a hand onto Balnérith’s shoulder and anchored it with extended talons before she released her hold on the wing socket. Twisting her around, a hooked dagger glowing with a golden Celestial light appeared in Naamah’s freed hand, plunged in hard, and yanking back, pulling guts free. Blood sprayed far and wide as she punched the dagger into Balnérith dozens of times a second for long minutes. Balnérith’s flesh squelched beneath the blows as the torment continued, and ribbons of intestines looped around her feet. The black ichor from her wounds splashed across Naamah's naked form, and her grin widened.
“You’re next,” Naamah laughed, and the dagger disappeared from her lightly smoking hand. “J says hi.”
Naamah and the flaming winged Fallen vanished, taking Castellan with them and leaving Balnérith entirely alone. Despite the torture of the Celestial energies lingering in the wounds, she stood up after pushing her guts back in.
“How does she dare use a Celestial dagger?” gasped Balnérith, and she staggered against the shattered boulder. "J!"
Icy fury ran through her veins at the continued devastation of her plans and schemes. The ineffectual rage she’d contained to keep Castellan’s respect found an outlet in the earthquake her next Spell released. The rumbling sound of shattering rock drowned out her enraged scream.