Amdirlain’s PoV - Círbann
When Klipyl vanished to deliver the invitation to the Mantle holders, Sarah gave a disappointed huff and shot Amdirlain a knowing look.
Yeah, she knows what I’m up to with the invitations.
“A Succubus!” gasped Silpar. “Kli was a Succubus?”
“A born Succubus at that,” confirmed Amdirlain.
Sarah growled with laughter. “I have to love how she threw that out so flippantly. I’m sure she knew it would get a reaction from you."
“The way she announced it aside, I hope it’ll help you understand why I don’t just take things at face value,” said Amdirlain.
Silpar opened his mouth to object before his gaze narrowed. “Shouldn’t the same potential apply to the frost giants?”
“I don’t like to leave monsters alive, but it’s one reason I’ll try to just get them back to their Home Plane,” acknowledged Amdirlain. “I don’t want to risk the time required to check each one, which means at least the bulk will get sent home without injury.”
His theme rang and twisted with sour notes that swept past in a momentary storm, but his usual calm returned, and Silpar nodded. “Thanks for listening to my concerns. Even after Ilya’s revelation, I had expected nothing quite so...”
“Weird,” offered Ilya, and she gave a firm nod.
“Yes, anything so weird in Kli’s past. A redeemed Mortal is one thing, but it's quite another for a Demon to be changed. Yet she isn’t the only oddity about you by your own admission,” Silpar said, and he hesitated before he continued. “If you can bring about such change in a Demon, I hope you can achieve even more among our brethren.”
“I try to help those who deserve it, but talk to Kli about the events that catalysed her change,” said Amdirlain. “After hearing her tale, you’ll understand that finding another Demon that can travel that path is improbable. I’m inclined to believe that someone had their thumb on the cosmic scale to find who I did.”
Her wording had Silpar’s gaze narrowing in suspicion.
“I’ll speak to her first about not sharing my secrets that are involved in the tale,” rumbled Sarah.
“And I’ll try to listen to Kli with an open mind along with any other strange creatures you’ve redeemed,” said Silpar.
“It took a change in your approach. Hopefully, we’ve both learned, and we’ll take that for progress, shall we?”
Silpar nodded. “You need evidence—or at least facts—to back my concerns.”
“Yes, telling me facts, even if you can’t immediately prove them, gets my attention better than playing question and answer,” advised Amdirlain. “Hopefully, in the future, I’ll remember to prompt you where needed instead of digging in my heels.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Silpar.
Amdirlain gave a deep sigh. “When it’s your preference against mine, it can go either way. I’ll tread more carefully, but nothing gets a free pass if I encounter evidence of foul deeds.”
“No supper,” muttered Sarah playfully.
“You can go eat the ones you just killed,” replied Ilya, waving towards where the sentry had been.
“She’s already got them stored away,” noted Amdirlain.
“We should get going. There is no way to tell how quickly the Fey will arrive,” said Sarah.
Silpar nodded. “I’ll go with you. I’m sure they won’t care if it’s one Fallen or two at the meeting.”
“I didn’t invite any of their allies. I invited them. To fulfil the rules, I’ll need to go alone except for Livia,” corrected Amdirlain. “We’ll see if they keep me waiting, but I’ll look to banish the frost giants before they arrive. Could you please monitor the tribes while I’m away? There are other dangers out there.”
“You put yourself in a position where my presence endangers you,” observed Silpar. “You could have had ‘Kli’ extend an invitation for them to each bring several companions.”
“No, that wouldn’t have been wise,” replied Amdirlain. “Though their natures differ, they’re all originally from the same court, so their escorts might work as one. Since they’re the equivalent of different Fey nobility, the rules would allow them to bring the numbers to match each other.”
“We don’t get to fight the giants, and you’re going into danger alone?” asked Isa. “Again?! Livia could bring an escort of her own.”
“Yes, Livia could have brought someone, but I doubt she has ones strong enough to match these Fey. I invited the Mantle holders, of which Livia is one,” replied Amdirlain. “She couldn’t have borrowed someone else to serve as an escort. They’d sense the lack of connection and would take offence.”
“She wants to limit the number of beings that might offend the Fey. If it comes to a fight, things have already gone wrong,” said Sarah.
“Yes, the more people on hand, the more that can go wrong,” agreed Amdirlain. “A fight generally means things have failed.”
“You didn’t ask us if we’d be okay taking the chance. You just cut us out. How do you even know about the Fey?” asked Isa glumly.
“Events from Orhêthurin’s memories have left impressions mingled with the skills I possess,” explained Amdirlain. “I just hope it doesn’t provide me false confidence since I know it’s only fragmented knowledge. Many details don’t increase the related Skill, but they broaden the range of situations to which I can apply them. Anyway, it’s done.”
With that, she teleported to the lakeside location she’d shown Klipyl. The lake’s greenish-blue waters were still, without a hint of breeze to tease the slightest ripple. The becalmed air was heavy with a humidity that weighed down the plants’ leaves, and the browned knee-length grass drooped.
“Livia, I’ve identified three other Mantle holders; oddly, all are Fey. Did you want to come and meet them with me?”
Amdirlain accompanied the words with images of the lakeside before them and details of the Fey.
A shimmering orb of dimensional energy returned with her reply. “I’ll be there shortly, Móðir, and I’ll bring gifts.”
Is she trying to see if she can place them under obligation? She’s not the only one laying traps. I didn’t tell the Fey there would be another Mantle holder coming along, so let’s see what tricks they have under their glamours.
Taking in the details provided by the crystal plate, and having heard the frost giants’ living songs, Amdirlain set about banishing them. She danced and sang on the lakeshore with no witnesses or rush, and, though tempted to kill them, Amdirlain focused on sending them home. Thousands at a time, the frost giants were reeled in by the links to their Home Plane. When the connections thrummed with feedback, she bore down on those who tried to resist, and her Willpower squashed their opposition through a barrage of notes.
Wanting the reason for their banishment to be clear, she cycled Ki infused with Primordial Mana and waited until the flames manifested. With her dramatic flare ready, she sliced apart the wards of their leader’s glacial stronghold and tore open a Gate in the throne room. As blistering notes scoured the air, the massive Frost Giant upon the throne of black ice glimpsed eyes of burning white flames fixed on him.
Before he could move from the throne, notes formed a phantasmal hand that seized him by the throat. Suppress Target and Energy Drain reached through her connection to the hand’s manifestation and, with deliberate menace, ground his will underfoot. As she inhaled his health to fuel part of his people’s banishment, his cruel, obsidian gaze shone with fear. His deep blue skin and black beard whitened with failing health as a wilting barrage of razor-sharp song cut his and his court’s hold upon the Material Plane. With their planetary connection destabilised, those in the glacier were smashed across the gulf between planes until they rested in their former homes of ice.
It's not at all kind to send them back paupers with no gear, but that's too bad for them.
Amdirlain took the fear she’d inspired in the leader and broadcast it into the minds of all the frost giants she’d banished. Shutting down the Gate, she stored the excess Ki and continued her work.
It seems Isa would have won the bet about me one-shotting him. Though, in my defence, that was a few thousand musical chords at work, not one.
As the number of giants left dwindled, Amdirlain felt Ebusuku's awareness, observing her general location with a touch of curiosity.
“I told the Fey I was having a meeting for entities who have Skrel worshipers,” said Amdirlain, and she felt a spike of amusement from Ebusuku. “Regardless of how they came about it, they’re welcome to my neutral conference.”
I, of course, didn’t directly tell anyone Livia had avoided contacting. It’s certainly not my fault that what Klipyl knows flows up the chain of command.
“Livia told me about your invitation to her. Might I also come along with Hestia and potentially another?” enquired Ebusuku, her voice echoing within a Mana orb that appeared nearby. “Hestia knows Fey customs where I don’t. Though I’d appreciate it if you could share what you know before negotiations begin.”
“All guests will be welcomed as long as they meet the conditions and remain polite,” Amdirlain said aloud, and given that Ebusuku still listened, she didn’t bother with a Spell.
Ebusuku’s attention withdrew, and Amdirlain continued to dance. During the tail end of Amdirlain’s performance, Livia appeared nearby dressed in white silk robes with a series of single, ice-blue flowers sown along the cuffs. In one hand was a basket of goods and, in the other, the crystal plate tied to the surveyors. She watched the dance silently, taking in the energy in those few audible notes as the danger to her worshippers diminished by the moment.
As the last notes echoed across the lake’s still waters, Amdirlain restricted the rifts and set traps targeted on a Frost Giant’s melody. Checking against the surveyors, she found none remained in the world.
“All gone,” reported Amdirlain, and she glanced at the crystal she’d left at Livia’s home. “You can keep that.”
[Achievement: Incursion Blocker (Invader: Frost Giant Foothold - Para-Elemental Ice -Minor)
Details: The holder has obstructed and reversed a planar species planetary incursion.
Reward: 66,666,666 experience points
Note: The three involved divided the reward, but you know how I feel about rounding it up.
Note: Whether this halt is permanent or temporary remains to be seen.
Suppress Target [J] (21->22)]
It’s just as well that I reset it back to the scion and triumvirate classes; that would have been a lot of levels in one go.
“You killed them all by yourself?” asked Livia. “So why did I just get a rush of experience?”
Amdirlain smiled. “While they’re gone, I didn’t kill them. Rather, I’ve risked a different approach. You took part in shutting down the incursion; Gideon shares it equally, so it’s likely Sarah also got some, as I got a third.”
Ebusuku appeared mid-sentence, her ebony skin and black leather armour drinking in the afternoon sunlight that glinted off her weapons’ hilts. Beside her were two brunette Mediterranean women. Hestia was easy to recognise in her leather armour, short swords at her hips, and familiar lightning-scarred cheek. Amdirlain almost asked her to provide an introduction to the third lady, but the stranger’s song established her identity. Elements within her theme resonated with Mars’ and, combined with her subdued green gaze, she had to be Anna Perenna, Goddess of Life and Plenty. Within each was a faith connection to the world. Only Ebusuku’s connection wasn’t to a Mantle but the true divinity she now possessed.
“I sent them home,” finished Amdirlain as she struggled to find the proper wording for a question about what they’d done. “Ebusuku and Hestia, this is pleasant. Though it’s surprising to see you here in such a state.”
Hestia patted her hilts. “I’ve had to cross blades occasionally to settle points during Fey negotiations.”
Amdirlain rolled her eyes and got a laugh from Hestia before she turned to the newcomer. “Anna Perenna, is it not? Did your husband’s presence help?”
The name hummed between Amdirlain and the second woman in confirmation; the energy in its use made it clear the fatal consequences a Mortal would suffer if they tried it within a summoning. Anna straightened her shoulders and lifted her gaze. Despite her braced posture, her fingers twisted in the folds of her white toga.
“You can recognise me without introduction, Amdirlain. I feel flattered after what my husband has told me of you. Thank you for the advice you shared with my kind and baffled soldier,” whispered Anna. “Did you do anything else to the giants besides send them home?”
I used her name, so her use of mine is fair, but she can’t be summoned.
Amdirlain's firm smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I left a mental reprimand in place. Might I enquire if you three meet the criteria for this conference?”
“I’m glad it’s done. They’re foul brutes,” said Ebusuku, her smile matching Amdirlain’s. “And yes, we appear to have made a suitable impression in a few places.”
‘It’s done.’ The same phrase I used to cut the others off. Oh yeah, I got told on. I’ve never heard Ebusuku use that phrasing until now.
“Life is hard for the Skrel tribes, but with guidance and care, times of plenty will return,” Anna said. “There is potential beneath the ice and snow. It will be pleasing to see them prosper.”
“I hope you find helping them prosper fulfilling,” said Amdirlain, and she focused on Ebusuku. “And what happened to the Mantle?”
Did all the connections to assorted worlds tip things past being a Mantle?
“We’ll talk about it later,” replied Ebusuku. “Though no longer possessing a Mantle, I am also a Deity connected to this world. I hope I understood correctly that I’d be included in the discussions?”
“Since you’ve worshippers, you’re welcome to contribute,” replied Amdirlain.
Hestia surprised Amdirlain with a burst of familiarity, bestowing a light hug. “You’ve grown so much since we talked in Duskstone, yet you’re still a headstrong idiot.”
Her proximity to Hestia’s scar let Amdirlain feel Zeus' energy within it. Divine lightning continued to linger and churn within the flames of Hestia’s essence, and that residue prevented the wound from healing flawlessly.
Could I get rid of it so she can heal fully?
“Thanks,” drawled Amdirlain.
“You acted like running could have saved you back in Duskstone, and you’ve been diving in crushing Eldritch by yourself. With your daughter at risk, it’s something any of us would help you with,” added Hestia.”You’ve far more allies than you know.”
“The next person who catches me might envy Apollo and the rot that consumed him from within. I didn’t expect any of you to come here as it’s not exactly the most stable of situations,” said Amdirlain.
“Just as well we volunteered,” said Hestia.
Anna whispered. “This world is struggling, but I know the weight of the cold within oneself. I need a place to show myself I can stand and grow in different ways. My husband told me of your advice; am I not allowed to return such aid in equal measure? Its value to me, I can only struggle to explain.”
“He kept watch over you properly?” asked Amdirlain.
“His mere presence made me feel safe enough to acknowledge my pain and start to heal from what I had done. I’ve struggled to explain it properly to others. Still, he sat and listened, watching over me even when my words faltered. He waited quietly through my awkward pauses and withstood the storm of my emotions.”
Amdirlain caught a memory from Anna of her thumbs driven into the eyes of a woman above her. The other woman screamed and cried, but Anna dug her thumbs deeper with a force of will and desire to live. The strange weakness that had grasped her since the Gods’ War began was given form with the other’s attack. She tried to pry the other away, but a scream clawed at her ears, and the steel-like fingers around her throat squeezed tighter. Anna felt the final wisps of breath blocked by the pressure, and her vision narrowed as blackness swam at the edges. Cloying blood splashed against her face, but Anna ignored the metallic odour and gagging taste.
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Pushing harder, her nails ground against the bone behind the ruptured eye sockets, but the grip around her throat was unyielding. The light faded further from her gaze, and her arms seemed heavy. With her hold on life’s light fading, Anna sent what little energy she could muster to germinate a seed inside her right thumb pad. The pain felt muted and distant as the plant burst through her skin and went upwards, seeking a share of the sunlight that faded from Anna’s gaze. A rush of moisture splattered her face, and a weight dropped fully atop her, but the grip around her throat failed. Desperately choking and coughing, it surprised Anna when the other Mantle hit with a surge of life energy.
The surge of victory came with an awareness she’d ended a life, an act anathema to her nature, and more. She’d used an innocent life against its nature as a weapon to kill. Her hand twisted awkwardly beneath the corpse’s weight. Ignoring the pain in her throat, Anna took in the seedling extending through the back of the woman’s head, still connected to her hand. With the sapling in danger of cracking under pressure, Anna scrambled for a belt knife that had been just out of reach during her assault. Her fingertip brushed it, and the blade almost tipped away, but over time with tiny jumps and starts, she dragged it close enough to grab. With the small blade, she pried the woman’s head open to free the plant, desperate to save one life.
Once the sapling was freed from the corpse’s flesh, she cut off her finger at the base knuckle to avoid damaging any roots. Anna dug a shallow grave with her bare hands and that tiny knife to set the remains within. The plant she’d germinated from her flesh became a grave marker for three goddesses in one body. Rozhanitsy, Sudenitsy, and Narechnitsy, the Slavic goddesses of Life, Fate, and Destiny, had ended their existence in a meadow that had turned barren from their death knell.
When Anna left it behind, the only life in that clearing was the sapling of an apple tree that grew atop the grave she’d dug for them. Though fed by the goddesses’ remains, Anna was shocked to find the apple tree fully grown on her Home Plane at the war’s end. The sight of it had tipped Anna into silence, but she couldn’t in clear conscience destroy it or even send it away.
The memory faded as the battered Goddess looked down, and the world listened to her will. The surrounding dry grass straightened, and a wave of green spread along the lakeside. Amdirlain heard Anna’s adjustments to the grasses’ evolution to tolerate extreme cold.
Ecology pick-me-up 101.
“The grass just needed a little helping hand,” observed Anna. Her whispered words were in a determined tone. “As did I. My husband doesn’t know I’m taking this risk, and I’d prefer it left that way. Hestia and I ensured we fulfilled your requirements through visits to a few tribes that Livia had found with your device and its delightful moving images.”
“The absence of the world barrier allowed us to leave a few servants to render them aid,” clarified Hestia as Anna’s words faltered. “Depending on how this meeting goes, we’ll potentially coordinate with the Fey to ensure things are civil. Do you have any information about these Fey you might share?”
Amdirlain held back a sigh of frustration. “They’re old Fey, but they feel fragmented and faded. They’re refugees from another Fey Court from outside the realm. The Autumn Court is different in attitude to the summer or winter courts, though they have customs of hospitality in common.”
Hestia hummed. “Fey hospitality and repayment of debts can be a tricky thing. We brought some minor tokens of hospitality so they can feel welcomed but not bribed.”
“I’ll set a table out after they arrive,” said Amdirlain. “Hopefully, they don’t find it too fancy.”
Anna nodded slowly. “Why did you decide to send the giants home?”
“Since I could send them home, condemning a Mortal species based on its nature seemed overly harsh. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting it to work on all of them. Some tried to resist, but in the end, I shoved them all out the door.”
“What, you mean you’ve gotten stronger lately?” asked Livia with a grin. “How bizarre. I wonder what might have happened. Your evolved Power and new Prestige Class, perhaps? Do you feel ready to sing worlds into existence again?”
Amdirlain playfully poked out her tongue, and Hestia laughed in delight. After composing herself, Amdirlain continued.
“The giants are like many predatory animals. Should I wipe out sharks or tigers because they’ll also have no compassion when it’s time to eat? Some predators don’t kill cleanly. They were put into the realm for a reason, and I don’t think I know enough to eradicate them.”
“Nature tries to fill all the niches it can. It is risky to remove a predator, as it gives space for something potentially worse to take its place,” advised Anna.
“Yes, I don’t know what predators the frost giants are acting as a buffer to keep weak,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Life can be a struggle between what we think we know and reality,” offered Anna. “When we don’t know enough, then reality has a way of rubbing our face into that fact sooner or later.”
“I asked Kli to deliver invitations to the three Fey Mantle holders. There wasn’t anything about other deities in the invitation. Still, the Fey would take insult if anyone present was not at least of equal status, as I invited them as Mantle holders. I don’t know when they’ll come, so my apologies in advance if they keep us waiting,” replied Amdirlain.
“If they are a while, it merely gives us time to talk,” said Anna. “I have a modest gift to thank you for your hosting. Might I present it now, or should I wait until their arrival?”
“Only the Unseelie lords and ladies who wished to make their guests compete hold guests gifts to a time of common presentation.”
“My husband has said you’ve been healing damaged worlds,” said Anna. “But some are scoured of life?”
Amdirlain nodded glumly. “I know songs for individual pieces but not how to balance the planetary elements with the complexity of weather and species.”
Anna drew forth a crystal globe fifteen centimetres across. “Then I might add some small progress there. I know this is minor compared to all the places you’ve seen, but it contains my knowledge of how the life of our world fits together and balances. I hope a healthy example might be useful in your other endeavours.”
[Orb of Nature’s Expanse
Crafter: Anna Perenna
Grade: Divine Relic
Details: With study provides Grand Master insights into knowledge involved in understanding a healthy Earth-like planetary ecosystem.]
Small progress? I guess it is just Grand Master insights into one planet’s ecosystem.
Hestia set a floor harp carved from golden wood with mithril strings down. The harp’s column and neck showed an elaborate meadow scene. “I heard you were learning other instruments and hope this one might suit your tastes for many years.”
[Euterpe’s Instrument of Inspiration
Crafter: Hḗphaistos
Details: This celestial instrument can become any stringed instrument known to man from any culture or age.
Note: To the victor goes the spoils.]
“If such a gift of service would help you in some measure, consider Kli your messenger whenever you need one,” proposed Ebusuku.
“Her help would always be welcome. I appreciate that, Ebusuku.”
Amdirlain heard Ebusuku’s attention focus on their link.
“Kli’s not yet finished with the deliveries,” advised Ebusuku. “The guards at the Domain of darkness are being uncooperative. The guard won’t let any servant exit the cave mouth that forms her Domain’s boundary to collect the crystal. Nor is Kli allowed to toss it across the boundary.”
“Once they realise how stubborn you taught her to be, they might relent. Are they offering her a comfortable place to sit, sup, and wait for a response if only she’d come in and hand the invitation over in person?” enquired Amdirlain.
The corners of Ebusuku’s mouth curled upwards, but the smile didn’t reach her gaze fixed into the distance. “Of course. She’s flirting and trying to lure the Domain guards outside and away from their shade.”
“Doesn’t hurt to get in some practice, right?” asked Amdirlain. “Tell her to use Fabricate to create a wooden bowl and fill it with milk. A Blessing that creates more complex food should let her manifest some. She’ll need to leave the bowl with the crystal next to it on a shaded ledge near the cave and turn her back to it.”
“Do you think a Brownie will come for the milk and deliver the crystal to repay the debt?” asked Livia.
“It’s worth a shot,” said Amdirlain. “Especially if the milk has a dash of honey in it. Normally it’s done as payment for the houses they care for, but they’ve each likely got brownies present in their domains.”
Ebusuku sent Klipyl the instructions and looked at Amdirlain expectantly.
“Sorry,” murmured Amdirlain.
“For what?”
“Sticking you with the role you didn’t want,” said Amdirlain.
Ebusuku shrugged. “So much for talking about it later. Just because I didn’t want your Mantle doesn’t mean I’m not good at caring for those seeking change. Most of the role involves observing, learning, and occasionally providing guidance. I can manage quite well since I’m a trained Scout and Wizard in multiple Prestige classes, though I missed opportunities similar to what you’re maximising. Advancement is a lot harder now that experience is useless.”
“Role?” whispered Anna. “You’d summarise the Divine strength you’ve gained as a role?"
“Yes, a role, and it comes with restrictions at that,” replied Ebusuku. “I can send avatars to various places, but I’m blocked from some locations now, and others require special preparation or conditions to access. An example is the accords of neutrality protecting The Exchange, which means I can’t go back there. I used to love spending time in the bazaars among all the species filling the place. It’s just as well I gave my apartment to another, so the management didn’t have cause to repossess it.”
“You get everything back from it, okay?” enquired Amdirlain.
“Everything that was stored there, except for some plants from the rooftop garden. I didn’t think bringing them to any heavenly Plane would be wise,” replied Ebusuku.
Hestia was about to speak when Klipyl appeared on the water’s edge wearing only her ribbon. She beamed at Amdirlain and Livia before giving Ebusuku a wave.
Ebusuku’s lips curved upwards in a quick smile. “That’s an interesting outfit, archon.”
“I figured you’d like it, boss,” said Klipyl. “It shows about as much skin as the weapon harnesses you once wore.”
“The tip work out okay?” asked Amdirlain. “Or did they relent?”
Klipyl nodded merrily and gave Amdirlain a saucy wink. “I’d barely turned my back when a Brownie took the milk. It was over so fast, whoosh, guzzle, guzzle, burp, and clatter. Then the guards started cursing and told him, her or it to put the crystal down, but they were already gone. Shortly after, a voice whispered from a shadow, ‘I delivered that pretty crystal to Fuichon’s hand’, so I came here.”
“Thank you,” said Amdirlain. “I’m glad you’re safe.”
Klipyl skipped up to Amdirlain and gave her a big hug. “You worried about me? That’s so sweet. Did you blow up all the giants, Am?”
Amdirlain returned the hug as Klipyl gushed but shook her head at the question. “Though it was very tempting to make a demi-plane and secure them all inside for eternity, I sent them all home.”
Releasing Amdirlain from the hug, Klipyl stood beside her with an arm looped across her shoulder. “Hasn’t she grown, boss?”
“I think she’s just reserving her wrath for others,” replied Ebusuku dryly.
Amdirlain ignored the commentary. “Did everything else go okay?”
Klipyl nodded. “They were persistent in offering to give me things, which I thought was even worse to agree to.”
“Never be indebted to a Fey. Everything with them needs to be an even exchange, or them owing you with a clear way to repay it,” agreed Amdirlain.
“I know the dangers of deals, so that was easy to avoid,” said Klipyl. “Where are the others?”
Amdirlain motioned to the north. “Monitoring the tribes. If you’d please join them?”
“Are you going to need more messages delivered?” asked Klipyl.
“Potentially, but there may be some things for you to fight. Lots of dangerous local lifeforms, and your boss now has worshippers here as well,” said Amdirlain.
Ebusuku nodded, and Klipyl squealed with glee. “I’ll help. I wonder if they have any new positions.”
With that, she vanished, and Amdirlain groaned.
At least Klipyl isn’t angry with me. I’m tired of being stalked and monitored by Silpar. It feels creepy; even if he is supposed to be a bodyguard, it’s not like having the security team for my stage shows around.
A crackling in the air and the waters made Amdirlain pause, its strength weaker than she’d expected.
The three Fey manifested within a short time of each other, but it was only when the last was present that Nendes came to the lake’s shallows. The Nereid looked like an adult elven female, with bluish-white skin and seaweed-green hair, wearing only a translucent shawl that she had wrapped around her body. Her eyes were the brightest of sapphires, shining with an inner glow, the force of her unrestrained Charisma drew a frown from Livia.
A buzz of wings among the shadows signalled Fuichon darting forward, but she perched on a branch still among the canopy’s shadow. Barely a half metre tall with dragonfly wings, she had scaled features, a lipless shark-like mouth full of fangs, and solid black eyes set high in a face without a nose. Her wings gleamed with a dusky sombre light, the safety of the day’s light being swallowed by the night.
Erfaron was the last to show himself, and he slipped carefully around the trunk of a tree. Balanced, ready to leap away, his glowing red gaze constantly darted between the ladies. As he slipped forward from the shadows, the metallic scent of blood filled the air and droplets of glistening red blood fell from his pointed cap to splash on his stain-covered green tunic. Bloodstains covered his craggy face, his long nose an awning above a twisted mouth filled with serrated teeth.
Fuichon’s head twitched one way and then another and Amdirlain felt her taking in memories from the darkness beneath the tree’s canopy.
Fuck, now she has my use name. They’re not strong enough to risk Hestia or Anna’s name, but mine is different.
Fuichon’s wings vibrated erratically, and their very undulations formed her words. “Who are you to wear that face and sing such melodies?”
“Her face is familiar, but faces are like clouds, always changing among mortals and us,” growled Erfaron. His appearance changed to a fair-skinned elven lad with ruby eyes and a black cap. “What melodies do you speak of?”
“May we have some music?” enquired Fuichon, blatantly ignoring Erfaron’s question.
Erfaron grunted and shrank back to his original form with the scent of blood again present.
“Time will tell many things, including what you’ll get to experience,” demurred Amdirlain.
“The darkness recounted the songs you used to dismiss those of Winter away to the ice again,” replied Fuichon with another rustle of her wings. Her lips moved out of time with the words, and her tongue flickered with a hummingbird’s speed. “Their shadows vanished from the world when you sang the notes of power that buzz far past our ears. May we have it?”
Amdirlain frowned. “No, you may not have it.”
“So you wear the death singer’s face in more than just a mimicking of flesh. May we not even have a taste of that which you so freely gave our departed kin, Orhêthurin?” asked Erfaron.
“I’m not Orhêthurin,” replied Amdirlain coldly.
He’s seeing if he can provoke me so I’ll break the peace first. How many Fey are here from outside the realm?
Erfaron leered at her and licked at the blood dripping from his hat. “Nor am I who I once was. We are all less than we once were, and now have refuge from steel and man. I lost my old names after you and your father cut us off and dealt with Summer and Winter alike. Murderer of our kin.”
“Their attacks would have taken Orhêthurin’s life. She defended herself more ably than your kin’s pathetic skills could match,” retorted Amdirlain.
Erfaron roared with laughter and slapped both hands upon his stomach. “Oh, I’d sure like to remember enough to match those skills you call pathetic. We’re all less than we were. We stayed too long, faded too far, lost too much to the steel, disbelief, and man’s neglect of the land.”
“No, some are more than they began with,” argued Fuichon, her gaze fixed on Livia meaningfully. “You call yourself Am, but they referred to you as Amdirlain. I can’t hear or see within the glamour of sound that hides so much. But the pale one is swimming in the primordial music you no doubt contain, and she holds a Mantle like us. Did you arrange this for her and the others?”
“I did not,” said Amdirlain. “They made impressions by themselves, and I guided no one to this world.”
Erfaron sniffed in Livia’s direction and tasted the air with quick flickers of his tongue. “You taste Winter touched, one who has drowned in music, gold and silver mixed as one until the silver sank. The music mingles with the taste of death about you.”
Livia was dead when I soaked her Soul in my Ki, and she was swimming in it.
“While ice and snow touched me in a place of souls, Winter didn’t have dominion there,” said Livia.
“Winter has dominion in more places, high and low, than you might believe,” sneered Erfaron, his words rasped and crackled like burning leaves. “And her once-puppet now stands before us.”
“No, you came here at my bidding, so you’re the supplicant,” corrected Amdirlain firmly. “Orhêthurin was never the Winter Queen’s pawn, just a stray weapon that she fooled your kin into casting themselves against, only to find their immortal flesh undone.”
The three Fey stilled into complete motionlessness.
“You have no Mantle and smell weak,” noted Nendes. “What’s stopping us from eating you up?”
At her question, Fuichon went still and glanced to where Amdirlain had stood when she dealt with the Frost Giant leader.
“Firstly, you’re in my debt,” said Amdirlain, and she looked at each. "Erfaron, Fuichon, and Nendes."
The three hissed in protest before Livia’s ringing laughter shut them down.
“Fuichon, by your own admission, you know the frost giants are gone from the world,” noted Livia. “If you really knew what the mantles do, you’d understand how far in debt you are right now.”
“They make us gods,” hummed Fuichon in a flurry of metallic wings. “Mortals now worship us as they did in the endless days before the courts formed.”
“Now it shall be we who determine the rules of this world,” growled Erfaron.
“That’s not all they do, and not alone you won’t,” objected Livia before Amdirlain could say anything. “We can each interfere in the others’ business where it comes within our purview.”
“You think you can protect your worshipers from what’s in the darkness?” asked Fuichon, and the others smiled viciously and murmured their agreement.
“While I don’t currently intend to do anything about your people, if you attack mine, do you think the darkness can protect your worshipers from accidents in the day?” countered Livia, before she looked to Erfaron and then to Nendes. “Or your hunters from things besides their chosen prey? Or your waters from contamination? When you threatened my worshipers, I knew where your domains and worshipers were.”
“Fire can breach darkness, but it paradoxically can make people fear it more,” noted Hestia. “Would you prefer them to seek the safety of the hearth fires at night or venture out with flames seeking vengeance against the monster who stole from them?”
Anna sighed sadly. “Peace, all of you. Life needs light and darkness, danger and safety, to grow. I’ve learned life is a cycle. However, conflict is unnecessary as none of us overlap, and mortals need many things.”
“Are you going to add to their mewling and threats?” asked Erfaron, his gaze fixed on Amdirlain.
“I heard no threats from Livia, merely speculations,” replied Amdirlain. “As host, it’s sad my guests can’t get along, but they have shed no blood. Now let me set up something so we can be a little more comfortable.”
A table appeared on the water’s edge positioned so Nendes could sit without her feet leaving the lake’s waters, and a broad canopy provided a heavy shadow between the trees and the far end. Across the table were platters with a mixture of Human and Fey food, the latter Amdirlain had from the memory of the massacre they’d brought up.
A dish filled with freshwater pearls and raw oysters appeared before Nendes, and she glanced at Amdirlain in surprise. Erfaron grunted, picked up a stag’s heart, and started eating, ignoring the fresh blood running down his chin. Fuichon hesitated on the tree’s branch, her gaze fixed on a vase filled with night-blooming flowers overflowing with pollen. Her tongue scented the air. Then she reappeared beside the vase, and carelessly seized a deep purple Fey fruit that appeared to be a lush plum with one hand. Absently licking her tongue across her sharp teeth, she picked up a flower with tender care.
“The flowers were all gone, a victim of the courts’ fading and abandonment,” whispered Fuichon painfully, and tears beaded at the corners of her eyes.
“I remember many songs,” replied Amdirlain, and she sipped from a cup filled with a Catfolk beer.
Taking their cue from her, the other ladies tried a nearby dish.
“Are the flowers perhaps a gift?” asked Fuichon, carefully not looking along the table.
“Those on the table, yes. However, if you seek more, there will need to be an agreement between us to obtain seeds,” replied Amdirlain. She caught the glances between the three, and the chimes of concern when none showed gifts.
Fuichon grumbled and timidly licked a speck of pollen from the flower; her wings buzzed into a near-invisible blur as she groaned. “I appreciate this gift, kind host.”
“Let me tell you the danger of the mantles and what we can do to assist each other,” said Amdirlain as she took in the euphoric effect of the pollen being quashed by Fuichon’s Mantle. “There are some Pantheon options I was ignorant to not long ago that you should know of. It could influence the formation of any agreement between the seven of you.”
Erfaron mumbled around a mouthful of bloody meat. “What’s in it for you?”
“Peacefully ensuring my daughter’s safety. I promise you that you won’t enjoy it if I find the need to be overly protective. Those would be the closing days of Autumn,” replied Amdirlain.
The three Fey glanced at each other.
“We’re listening,” said Nendes.
“That’s all I ask,” confirmed Amdirlain with a smile.
Erfaron snorted. “For now.”
“I’m also not likely to forget anything you’ve said to me,” responded Amdirlain.
“Don’t bother this child, Erfaron. The shadows have tasted the flames cooking beneath her skin,” said Fuichon. “Let’s keep them inside her.”