Amdirlain’s PoV - Vehtë - Mediterranean Sea
Amdirlain and Sarah reappeared kilometres to the south, with Klipyl, Kadaklan, and Jinfeng arrayed in a crescent, looking north at the blasts of power on display. With no line of sight to the pit, Amdirlain tried to glean how Lutu could perceive her surroundings from her still-rousing thoughts.
“We’ve got a Dragon stirring north of here,” hissed Sarah, concern cracking her composure. “Klipyl, how much have you explored?”
“A Dragon is coming to investigate that thing?” spluttered Klipyl. “It looked like something I’d expect to find in the Abyss, not on the Material Plane.”
Once again, I fail at being subtle.
Amdirlain frowned in mock concern and attempted to lighten the mood. “Do you think I’ve messed up being noiseless yet?”
Sarah snorted, her twinkling gaze competing with a tight frown. “Only if you started singing.”
Kadaklan frowned. “I take it you’re not talking about a small Dragon.”
“A Great Wyrm, but she is not a proper challenge for Am or me. While the Dragon’s inner thoughts are a steel trap, I can hear her anger at the territorial intrusion from all this Mana being tossed about the place.”
“You didn’t just peek into her mind?” asked Klipyl.
“Since all dragons have natural telepathy, I won’t risk warning her by slipping past her defences,” declared Sarah, a fierce smile curling her upper lip. “I could probably get past her defenses but I don’t want to tip my hand that she should avoid the nice bait we’ve provided.”
Is this because Sarah had so many lifetimes as an Adamantine Dragon, with the metallic clashing with chromatics, or do dragons instinctively like hunting other dragons?
“I could ask Gilorn to snatch Lutu away,” proposed Amdirlain.
“Fine, then we should also move away, but the Dragon is going to get our scent when she investigates,” said Sarah.
Amdirlain opened up her Telepathy and caught two mental flares in their surroundings. Beyond Lutu’s presence was a coldly furious mind whose broadcast thoughts burned with a vicious rage.
“I can see three options: let them kill each other, kill the Dragon, or retreat,” said Sarah. “I’m in favour of killing the Dragon, but I’m quite biased.”
“Killing the Dragon would create a power vacuum,” predicted Amdirlain.
“A power vacuum that would have other dragons fighting each other for its territory instead of pushing outwards for lands of their own,” said Sarah. “Will you trust me to deal with her? I have immunity to fire, so I’ve only got to worry about getting in range of her claws and holding off its spells.”
“You need the experience more than I do,” muttered Amdirlain reluctantly. “If you’re sure we can’t just leave her be.”
“She hasn’t exited her lair yet, but she’s going to be hunting and out for blood,” said Sarah. “I don’t believe I’ll get an achievement from killing this Dragon, so I’ll take the cheater’s approach.”
Jinfeng frowned in confusion. “What are you planning to do? What is the cheater approach?”
A mithril plate appeared in Sarah’s hands, projecting an illusion of Greece. “I’d planned to let Amdirlain take care of the little things with some delicacy. After she talked about going on a tour and didn’t want to use True Song, I put some spy toys in orbit and created some siege-grade weaponry along with the house.”
The illusion zoomed in on a mountain to the north, with several cave mouths highlighted.
“Are you throwing mithril bars again?” asked Amdirlain.
“I’m being more delicate and having fun with my magical technology,” said Sarah. “Red dragons on the Material Plane reach the Great Wyrm stage at fifteen hundred years old and live to about five thousand years. They’ll undergo a major moult five times, which draws the strength from their classes into their species, but that’s often without getting their fill of Class advancement since they’ve no way to control their experience growth. Also, they’re too lazy to do much except hunt and loot when their natural species’ growth is dangerous enough.”
A Red Dragon suddenly obscured the side of the mountain away from the cave mouths. Her wings and torso bore scars of many old battles.
Sarah snorted in surprise. “She changed her shape?! Many reds are too arrogant at that age to want to transform.”
“She surprised you. What other surprises will she have in store?” asked Klipyl.
“It just means she’s already in weapon range,” said Sarah with a triumphant smile. “You take care of calming Lutu, and I’ll educate her grumpy neighbour.”
“You’re not a Great Wyrm, are you?” asked Jinfeng.
Klipyl giggled. “It wasn’t long ago that she was a little hatchling, yet now she will smack a big red.”
“I’ve got enough toys to crack open the Dragon’s scales like a hard-boiled egg,” said Sarah, continuing as Amdirlain opened her mouth. “If Lutu goes on a rampage, the plinth will blame you for waking her up. Why don’t you figure out how to calm her down?”
Before Amdirlain could protest, Sarah disappeared. Amdirlain attempted to project her objections and received mental images of anti-aircraft batteries appearing on a flame-scoured hillside. They targeted a massive form roughly a half kilometre long, climbing into the sky before letting loose at once. Thousands of energy blasts turned the morning sky white with a raging fury that ripped the Dragon’s right-wing apart. The blast smacked into its side, breached scales, and tore flesh. An off-balance beat spun her into the beams, obliterating the closest eye before she could duck her head and let herself drop. As she regained control, the first flights of missiles launched towards her, and more energy streaks smashed into her shoulders. Shockwaves boomed from the north as hundreds of missiles shattered the sound barrier; hauled forward by gravity pulses on their tips, they blew past Mach-9. The impact of the fifty kilogram missiles sent the Dragon’s guts spraying as each missile wave exploded deeper into its flesh. Before it hit the ground, the last of the tracing missiles had pulverised the ruined corpse beyond any recognition.
I didn’t need to worry about that token for this trip. Do I want to know how much weaponry Sarah has in her Inventory? She has absolutely zero tolerance for chromatics.
‘Did you perhaps fire a smidge too many?’
‘You’re the one that says there is no such thing as overkill,’ returned Sarah. ‘Though I’ll admit I didn’t expect the beams and missiles to be that effective. I triggered the launch for all the ones I deployed. Have you started working on calming Lutu yet?’
‘I was worried about you!’
Prompted to get moving, Amdirlain’s scrying technique revealed that Lutu had swollen to fill the pit and then extruded various oily limbs. The largest Amdirlain couldn’t wrap both arms around, but most limbs were twig-like tendrils blooming from her upper surface. The tips of each limb had different swirling irises, and that only let Amdirlain guess at their related gaze attacks. With the difference in their perceptions, Amdirlain couldn’t send a recognisable mental image from Orhêthurin’s memories. She moved closer but kept out of Lutu’s line of sight and tried to extend Harmony to touch the shifting form.
The first brush of it twinged memories of forms that Amdirlain had once adopted. The outer flesh slipped across dimensional boundaries and folded into a mass that would dwarf an American battleship for bulk. That first touch invoked memories of Orhêthurin’s Resonance, muffled by the strangulation of the vines, and grief bubbled up. Weeks of evening practice let Amdirlain witness the memories without getting dragged into them and living the pain anew.
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
The storm clouds in the eastern sky mocked Orhêthurin’s desire to see the dawn one last time. The music within the clouds blended into her surroundings in an inaudible hiss, but their unnatural cause was clear enough. Now that the long-promised end was at hand, fear stirred within her.
An oily tendril extended from the skin of her wrist and formed a gleaming iris. After scanning the horizon, Lutu flowed off and expanded into her Wood Elf form on the chair beside her. The morning breeze rustled the dark green locks the Primal Gazer adopted. “Why do you look at the sky?”
Orhêthurin sighed. “I can’t feel his forces, but the wards showed Leviathan has already entered the Material Plane with a few thousand great wyrms.”
“What form should I use for the fight?”
“None. I’d like you to stay in the deep cellar. If anyone but me comes for the items you hold, destroy them if you can. Flee deep underground if you can’t,” instructed Orhêthurin. “If you tire of waiting for me, take them to Danu in the west and then travel where you will. The dimensional disturbance might take decades to fade, so don’t get too impatient, as teleporting might kill even you.”
The gazer’s form momentarily grew chitinous plates of armour before resuming her silk-clad form.
Lutu frowned awkwardly. “Will you come back for the items?”
“I doubt it, but one never knows,” said Orhêthurin. “I’ve been wrong many times, so what’s another mistake added to the tally?”
“Let me come along to help repel him,” urged Lutu.
With quick movements, Orhêthurin started to braid her hair. “No.”
Lutu’s awkwardness faded as anger flared in her eyes. “Perhaps you’re wrong to leave me behind.”
“I plan to face Leviathan alone,” said Orhêthurin.
“Will the choirs not aid you?”
“I’ve pruned away all the Anar and Lómë that possessed the old version of True Song’s evolution,” said Orhêthurin. “Now, not even as a single unified choir would they stand a chance against Leviathan. They’re so out of practice that they can only coordinate a few hundred in a choir.”
A glimmer of dim light reflected off an immense wing, and Shindraithra shrank as she glided towards the clearing in front of the house. The few dull notes that Orhêthurin heard from her surroundings contained nothing of the melody she knew to be in Shindraithra’s flesh. Grief flooded Orhêthurin’s mind, but she pushed it aside.
“What is she doing here?” huffed Lutu. “I wanted to talk to you, and you’ve never let me meet her.”
“Please secure the cellar,” ordered Orhêthurin.
When her caretaker departed, Orhêthurin triggered the enchantments to clear all traces of the otherworldly scent that no doubt lingered in the wake of Lutu’s recent Protean usage.
With steady movements, Orhêthurin continued to braid her hair, not letting the gale that heralded Shindraithra’s approach disturb her.
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“I thought I made it clear you should leave,” rasped Orhêthurin. The sharpness of the words twisted across her lips, but she steeled herself to hold on to her rejection and drive Shindraithra away.
“Will you evacuate?” rumbled Shindraithra.
“Repeatedly, you’ve made me let you die how you wanted, and now it's my turn. What exactly would the point of that be?” asked Orhêthurin. “Leviathan isn’t coming for them. He’s interested in me and, maybe when I’m dead, he’ll leave the rest of them be. Certainly, if we can clear the elven servants, they’ll likely be safe from further reprisal.”
“Orhêthurin,” chided Shindraithra
Orhêthurin slammed her fists onto the table, shattering its crystal into pieces. “You should have left for the west with the other metallics.”
Shindraithra’s grin was fierce. “At least you’ve strength enough to do that still. But haven’t you forgotten that I’m not under your command? Anyway, the other adamantine dragons didn’t leave. They’re currently securing the northern approaches.”
“You’re not wanted here,” snarled Orhêthurin, the anger not disguising the grief in her tone.
“I don’t care if you welcome my help or not. You’ll still receive it,” rebuffed Shindraithra calmly. “I remember the Oath. When have you ever begrudged my family’s aid?”
The words to release Shindraithra from their Oath locked up in Orhêthurin’s throat, sealing her breath in her lungs, and agonising bright spikes seared her sight.
I did this by changing myself, and now I can’t even save the one I’ve always loved. Please, Father, can anyone help me drive her away? Don’t let her die here with me. Let her be free of me. Let me protect her one last time.
Black spots swam in her vision as the agony intensified and forced Orhêthurin to give in. The moment Orhêthurin stopped trying to break the Oath, her breathing eased.
“You’re in pain,” noted Shindraithra.
“Leviathan is here, so I doubt my condition will matter much longer,” said Orhêthurin.
“You believe it is time?”
Did she remember my offer for us to leave the realm? Not that it matters now.
A harsh smile hardened Orhêthurin’s expression. “Maybe, but I’ll see about taking a few pieces of him with me. If you’re on the continent to the west, I doubt he’ll come after you.”
Shindraithra transformed into a silvery-haired Elf and moved to join her.
Breathless, Orhêthurin drank in her form and mentally cursed the lost lifetimes. Only when Shindraithra sat next to her did Orhêthurin speak. “Why didn’t you leave? You’ve never stood for anyone insulting your pride before.”
“I’ve died and left you repeatedly. If you’re to die, I would be nowhere but by your side,” said Shindraithra.
“I’m going to end the Oracle that sent the lot of you here,” grumbled Orhêthurin.
Shindraithra reached over and clasped her hand. “Save that anger for the battle. You’ll need all your strength.”
The warmth of her touch almost undid Orhêthurin, but she crushed her fears and grief then nodded.
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
Amdirlain slipped from the emotional pain that tried to drag her fully into Orhêthurin’s perspective.
Lutu is a living creature but doesn’t have a stable form that Phoenix’s Rapture can mimic. Should I try something straightforward?
“I’m sorry for disturbing you so abruptly, Lutu. I wasn’t aware you were still under the house,” Amdirlain murmured to herself.
I’d recovered no memories involving Lutu until that one. Did that remain buried because Orhêthurin’s feelings for Shindraithra would have been too clear?
Tears welled in the corner of Amdirlain’s eyes at the sharp longing for what might have been rather than the hollow pain that had ripened in so many of Orhêthurin’s memories.
We both had our families taken from us in different ways. I don’t want to kill one of Orhêthurin’s allies, and I can’t just leave Lutu to rampage across the countryside. I’ll need to be precisely like Orhêthurin to pass inspection from Lutu’s senses.
With a sharp exhalation, Amdirlain let memories of Orhêthurin’s form guide her change and took on a living replica of her body. Letting Phoenix’s Rapture quiet, she teleported into a gully closer to where the knoll had been and called out. “Lutu, calm down.”
The liquid tones of the High Elven were but a drop among the noise of the ongoing explosions. The bombardment of the nearby slopes continued, and Amdirlain went to call out again when Lutu’s mind registered the shift in the surrounding energies, and the explosions paused.
“Lady Orhêthurin?”
The words came from a chorus of tubular maws that sprouted from Lutu’s tentacles.
“Her reincarnation,” replied Amdirlain. “I’m sorry you got left alone so long.”
“Did you only synchronise some of her memories? Who did such a rotten job of singing for you?”
Of course, she knows the Anar process of regaining past life memories.
Amdirlain stepped out so that one tentacle could see her, and dozens more extended over the curve. “Lady Orhêthurin was alive for so long that I’m still working through her memories.”
“What did you get named?”
“You can call me Am if you’d like,” Amdirlain smiled and took in the tentacles twitching about.
One extended closer before the end bulged into a Wood Elf’s dusky feature. A dark amber gaze roamed over Amdirlain. “How do you look so like her?”
Braced for trouble, Amdirlain plunged ahead. “A version of Protean.”
“How do I know you’re not an imposter pretending to be Lady Orhêthurin?” accused Lutu.
“I don’t want what she left you to guard, nor do I need your help,” said Amdirlain. “I’m simply looking to get you away to safety.”
“A likely story. Were you the source of flames earlier?”
“It’s a defensive aura that keeps other energies from hurting me,” said Amdirlain.
Lutu’s mouth hardened into a tight frown. “Oh?! You can’t just hold them away with songs?”
“The aura has advantages, as I don’t have to concentrate on it.”
“You know her form, but how can you prove you were once her?” interrogated Lutu.
Amdirlain shrugged helplessly. “Ask me questions. I don’t particularly want to share the memory I recovered. There are other issues mixed in with it besides yourself.”
“Why did Orhêthurin leave me behind?”
“Orhêthurin hoped it was her time to die,” said Amdirlain. “She didn’t want anyone dying with her; she experienced enough regret with the dragons who perished in the fighting.”
The closest tentacle dropped to the ground at the gully’s end, and Lutu’s massive form reeled into that spot, compressed into a breadbox-sized blob with a pair of tiny buttercup flowers extended from its side. “She never said that to me. Do you expect to convince me using something Orhêthurin never told me?”
She sprouted more tentacles, and blazing irises appeared at their tips.
“The last instruction I remember her giving you was to secure the cellar when Shindraithra arrived. I’ve only got a single memory related to you, and that was after I got your name from Gideon, Lutu,” said Amdirlain. “Or should I call you waits in the darkness between stars?”
Lutu buzzed in surprise. “Only she knew my name, but that was the last I spoke with her. This is wonderful, Lady Am. Welcome home. Should I put the house back for you? Though I’m afraid it is more a ruin than a house.”
“I wouldn’t worry about the house, as I won’t be staying here. Would it be okay if I took you to safety?”
Her tendrils briefly stretched towards Amdirlain, and Lutu gave a full-body wiggle. “That is fine with me, Lady Am. My apologies again. I hope you didn’t come to any harm.”
“I’m fine. My apologies also for awakening you so rudely,” said Amdirlain.
“I thought you might have been an agent of Leviathan and then realised you had no Abyssal energies about you,” said Lutu. “I continued to follow Lady Orhêthurin’s last orders.”
“Didn’t she tell you to head west to talk to Danu?”
I hope mentioning the real name of the Lady of the Forest doesn’t actually cause her Avatar issues.
“By the time I did that, Danu’s Avatar was sleeping to grow a vast forest, so I returned here,” Lutu edged closer and softened her voice to a barely audible whisper. “I assume you know the other individual with you is a Gem Dragon?”
“Sarah, who is Shindraithra’s reincarnation.”
“That is curious,” chirped Lutu. “Do you wish me to avoid associating with her again?”
“I don’t know why Orhêthurin kept you apart,” admitted Amdirlain.
“Would you introduce me?”
“Sarah went off to kill the Red Dragon who controls this region,” said Amdirlain. “If she returns in time, I’ll introduce you, but I’d prefer to get you to a safe location.”
“How old is the Dragon? Can we go join in the fight?” Lutu asked, bobbing in place.
Amdirlain smiled, “It was a Great Wyrm, but a Material Plane Red Dragon was nothing compared to the strength of those that accompanied the Leviathan. Sarah took care of it quickly, and now she’s examining routes into its lair.”
“What happened with the Leviathan?”
“The Titan released four of his aspects to deal with him,” replied Amdirlain. “They chased him down and slew him on each of his home planes. How did you consume the shattered crystal walls?”
Lutu trilled in amusement. “I didn’t consume them, and I’m not sure I could even if I tried. I pull them inside myself to be returned if Lady Orhêthurin asked me to do so.”
“You can leave them behind. I’ve got no need for the remnants.”
A tendril extruded towards the pit, and Amdirlain heard a solid thump as the mass of the walls was released.
Lutu hummed curiously. “I knew Anar could attune to memories after the Titan allowed them to be reborn. Is that what happened with you, Lady Am?”
“It’s a bit more complicated, but essentially, yes. I should tell you I don’t have a lot of memories from when my Soul lived as Orhêthurin,” explained Amdirlain.
“Ahh, that makes more sense,” said Lutu. A tendril looped around Amdirlain’s fingers, thinned to a pinkie width, and retreated after giving a brief squeeze. “Likewise. Lady Am, hopefully, we can have an equally beneficial relationship. I am sorry I lashed out so violently upon being awakened.”
“That would be good,” replied Amdirlain. “Do you know if Orhêthurin’s songbook is among the treasures you were guarding?”
“No,” sighed Lutu. “When they arrived here she placed it in the care of her former husband’s reincarnation.”
The dragons looting the city would have seized anything that survived Leviathan’s breath weapon. I’ll search for it after I complete this trip.
“However, I’m still guarding some items. Leaving them underground seemed inefficient, so I drew them into my body like the cottage walls.”
The hilt of a sword briefly extended from Lutu’s side and then retreated again.
“What did you blast the Celestial with?”
A flawless crystal rod the length of Amdirlain’s forearm rose to the top of Lutu’s body. “Did you need something zapped? Ensure you hold it with both hands. It’s got a bit of a pushback when you unleash it.”
“I’d prefer you retain it,” said Amdirlain. “Is that why you only got her wing?”
The last remnants of tension relaxed from Lutu at Amdirlain’s refusal.
“No, I shot her right through the chest. The blast disintegrated most of her,” huffed Lutu. “But I don’t know what happened after the roof fell.”
Losing your torso is the same as wings torn off to Gideon.
“Would you care to move to a Demi-Plane and protect the items there?” asked Amdirlain.
“You’re the reincarnation of Lady Orhêthurin, so my preference is to remain by your side, but wherever you wish me to guard your things is fine with me,” replied Lutu.
I’d constantly feel tempted to use Resonance and Harmony on Lutu’s Protean.
“Not on this trip, Lutu,” replied Amdirlain.
The tendrils swayed, and Lutu flattened briefly. “As you wish, Am.”
Amdirlain opened a Gate to Gilorn’s Demi-Plane, and she appeared before the threshold in her crystal Elf form. “Am?”‘
“Lutu, this is Gilorn. Gilorn, this is Lutu. She’s protecting a collection of Orhêthurin’s possessions, and I was wondering if you’d let her stay with you for the time being,” said Amdirlain.
Gilorn chimed. “My goodness, you have a Class named after Orhêthurin. Come through, and we’ll get you settled, Lutu.”
Naturally, Gilorn immediately picked up on that through Lutu’s song. Did she use the song to tap into Analysis or have the Skill?
“My needs are minimal,” said Lutu. “A nice depression in which to snooze in the dark is fine. I prefer the dark of space above all.”
“We’ve got a spot far away from any stars where the darkness is solid,” offered Gilorn.
“That sounds lovely,” cooed Lutu. They slithered over the threshold and waved a tendril at Amdirlain. “I’ll keep everything safe for you, I promise.”
“Your word that you’ll try is good enough, Lutu. You don’t need to promise me anything,” said Amdirlain.
A cheerful confirmation sounded out before the Gate closed.
Amdirlain returned to the others and found Sarah already waiting, and Amdirlain shared the memory of the conversation with her.
“Are you still going to look for the songbook?” asked Sarah.
“Nope, I’ll follow your suggestion and track it down once the trip is done,” said Amdirlain. “After breakfast, we’ll head north along the coast and east once we hit the isthmus.”
Jinfeng frowned. “What approach do you want to take with the locals?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do we do our best to slip through and avoid contact? Or did you want to meet them and see for yourself their nature?”
“We’ll see how things go. I’m looking to learn, not leave a wake of bodies behind me,” replied Amdirlain pointedly.
Sarah shrugged nonchalantly. “It would have hunted us and made a bigger mess. So many lifetimes as a metallic Dragon enduring the depredations of the chromatics have left no room in me for pity for their species. She was coming to deal with us. I dealt with her first.”
“Let’s get breakfast started,” said Kadaklan. “Do you want to deploy the house on the hillside here or elsewhere?”
Sarah’s house teleported to a perch on the hill above them, and the stairs unfolded.
Amdirlain let them head inside and knelt on the porch to continue her meditations.