Amun.

***

The formation of my 1st Necrotic Ki Pond resulted in a surge of necrotic healing energy, resulting in the avenue thinning to the width of a cunt hair. Yet, when I opened my eyes, I saw neither reality nor the necrotic world but an inversed amalgamation of the two.

Reality had been painted in the palette of the avenue, creating a field of sea-green fire solidified into the geometrical shapes designed onto the floor beneath me, the flowing roots around me, and the cavern beyond. The countless arachnids and critters of the underground were like cold blots of darkness against the sea-green backdrop of reality, almost like seeing Venus pass between the Earth and the Sun.

It was within that field of sea-green fire that I noticed two humanoid figures standing close by the entrance and then approaching to interrupt my meditations. Rather than be annoyed, however, I was eager to move on to the next step. I opened my Pond, after all, and Etan would have come in to check on me sooner or later, so I turned, seeing two eerily similar androgynous faces of purple moon skin. Long locks of silver-white hair flowed from their webbed scalps, tied with a familiar elegance to prevent the strands from falling before their crimson, almost vampiric eyes as they stared and gasped with equal parts disdain and awe.

<<"What is this?">> The female, dressed in a gossamer robe and tattooed with white webs throughout her body, was the one I assumed Etan called High Matron Etyl Za’Darmondiel. How familiar she looked. How familiar they both looked. Their stout, pointed noses, slender jaws, and cat-shaped eyes, how they wore their hair, and most of all their brooches were all so much like Abbot Eiriol.

So much like…

<<"Who are you?">> I inquired, eliciting a curious twitch of the eye before her expression feigned amiability.

"Bool," She said, a word for something both interesting and inexplicable in my mother's tongue. Or, as Iris interpreted it, a weirdo. <<"Many are proud to learn the Destroyer is Drow. Your impurity was a concern, but if our blood is to be mixed with any, blood as ancient as the Nox would be the first pick of many. You being male is an unfortunate but acceptable fact. If hardly.">>

<<"Why focus on but one half of my being?">> I snorted, mostly at Etan's dour expression, but also at her reminding me of a certain emperor. <<"Destruction requires creation, does it not?">>

Another twitch of the eye, but this one was followed by a wicked smile. <<"Show us your process of creation and destruction.">> A single snap followed her words, spurring Etan to meekly step between us with a blue sash held at arm's reach.

<<"Forming your second natural Ki Gate is accomplished by intaking Ki from nature through meditation, combat, and exposure to various sources of Ki. Therein lies the reason for the state of affairs above. Like the other rulers of these lands, the Bodhi Tree's Headmaster rewarded High Matron Etyl with Shujen due to her and Abbot Eiriol's assistance in founding the Bodhi Tree. Yet she allows the barbaric surface creatures to continue in their warmongering ways. Shujen is in a perpetual state of conflict as a result, making a prime environment in which to train.">>

<<"I can't argue with that.">> I admitted. It's what the Galilean Powers did outside, after all. Others as well, but their Campaigns made them infamous overnight. <<"No utopia will keep mortals from turning to degeneracy, deviancy, and wickedness, so it's best to sanction and regulate such things in an easily accessible place for the masses. I intend to do the same thing, more or less.>>

<> Etan hesitantly nodded. <>

Etyl, seeming to grow impatient with our talk, pushed Etan aside rather forcefully and stepped to me. <<"You are to roam the surface, accompanied by Etan and myself. That is the fastest way to pursue your ends. A phase the monks like to call, the Walk.">>

I couldn't help but notice the confused and shocked gaze of Etan before he shielded it behind a mask of stoicism, and then turned to guide me to a strange portal. It looked like a giant, glowing, stump-high flower with petals of purples and reds laid across the floor, sitting alone inside of an alcove.

Tentatively, I followed the other two onto the petals and watched in morbid awe as they lifted to close around us, and after a burst of spores or pollen, the petals unfurled to reveal the interior of the same unassuming hut in which I saw Etan, Abbot Eiriol, and Etyl at the beginning of the year.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

<<"For this phase,">> The Head Monk turned at the door, <<"You may wear your personal attire as you wish, so long as it holds no magic or enchantments. We will wait for you outside.">>

Changing was only a matter of unraveling the wrappings and pulling one of the hundreds of outfits made by Giorno straight onto my body from my shadow pocket. I elected for a hard summer version of my standard garb- black capris, and a sleeveless, hooded vest to cover my mark, eliciting curious gazes and subtle remarks from the drow as my sandaled feet stepped out into the bleak winter night. After checking up on the girls, of course, still training with Eiriol, under the careful eye of the Owl. Though, they would join me soon.

I was, however, surprised to see Peter and the others waiting outside. Two drow, a male and female, stood closely by their sides; ever scowling, it seemed, except when their eyes turned meek upon meeting Etyl's gaze. That, and the looks of reverence, confusion, and mild contempt they turned towards me. Not to mention the disdainful scorns given to Rua as he approached me.

"They speak of showing us the way, yet they deny me mine," Rua said, meeting his calm eyes with mine. In turn, I shifted toward my… supervisor. She had the most authority around here, after all.

<<"I understand our weapons are prohibited, but Rua needs his weapon for the sake of his class.">>

"Calm, Elg-Horr." She said in Common, waving to Etan to explain.

"We understand Rua needs his weapon. He will be the only exception. The rest of you are to use only what you find during your Walk."

I noticed a sudden glean arise in Etyl's eye as Etan nodded to Rua's instructor. <<"Bring it to me, I wish to observe it.">>

There was no reaction from Rua, but a small rendering of his visage appeared in the corner of my vision, followed by his voice ringing through my head. {"I do not like this one."}

{"Yeah, she's crazy."} I internally sighed. {"Just hand it to him. We already know what'll happen anyway."}

With a deep groan, Rua disconnected from the Net and simultaneously released the sentient weapon into the drow's hand.

As if a titan tilted the Mortal Plane, the drow fell forward with a sickening crunch, releasing a stream of curses and howls once his hand was caught between the indignant weapon and the unyielding ground. The shouts of confusion and pain then turned to gasps of relief as Rua approached, retrieving his weapon and healing the lad's hand with a few quick snaps and pops.

"What does it mean to be worthy?" he looked up at Rua, rubbing his hand gingerly. But the young monk only turned, smiling.

"Perhaps you will learn."

"Enough wasting time!" Etyl randomly snapped, shocking the drow to a standstill. "Choose a direction and walk!"

We, however, were equal parts bemused and amused, exchanging gazes between each other before I causally shrugged. "North." Then I started walking, hearing Peter say he'd take the south, followed by Rua taking the east, and Veil of Shadows taking the west while I watched them mark out their paths through NoxNet.

'I hear you are without a House name. Other than Nox, of course.'

It hadn't even been five minutes of walking before she cracked. However, the way she signed the words was what stood out to me. Not that I've seen another drow use our sign language other than my mother and those here, but my observations in the Halls coincided with my mother's explanation of 'dialects' in the unspoken language. That said, I knew not if those dialects varied by region or bloodline or both.

Unlike our spoken word.

<<"A custom. According to my mother.">> I flatly said, but the darkness of my spirit muted the words like a whisper.

<<"A half-lie.">> She promptly said, and much louder than me at that. Then, after I gave her no response, she nearly shouted. <<"What is it? Do you not believe your mother could lie?">>

<<"Unfortunately, I am not so naive.">> I snorted. <>

<<"Those who have lost the favor of our Goddess become pariahs. They must give up their family names.">> Etyl hissed with pride. <> She spat. <<"That is the truth behind your mother.">>

<<"You sound certain.">> I snorted.

She seethed. <<"I am certain! It is absolute!">>

<<"Well I suppose that settles it then.">> I nodded indifferently, although a small part of me became a little more attuned to the waxing and waning voice in my head.

Coincidentally, Etan took advantage of the silence, stepping close enough to whisper. <<"Why do you care about the human and his weapon?">>

<<"Because I made Rua's weapon. It is sentient, and Hinjaku is very picky about who touches him. That drow was lucky he was let off with a crushed hand. He could've been fried.>>

I explained it as casually as I would anything else, and that seemed to make Etyl boil. <<"Why would you make such a weapon for a… human!?!">>

<<"Because I like making things. I made a sentient weapon and released it to choose someone worthy of wielding him. That someone was Rua. That is all there is to it.">> I shrugged again, giving them both pause as I stopped to look up at Mani. <<"I've been here over a month and all you've obsessed over is me being the so-called Destroyer, which I am.">> I turned my gaze to Etyl, giving her a nod before my eyes drifted to the illuminated rocks floating in the southwestern sky. <<"But so too am I a creator. A Grandmaster Artificer.

<<"However.">> I playfully grinned. <<"I am here to train as a monk. So, testing out my toys- and all the other stuff, will have to wait.">>

<<"Perhaps not.">> Etan motioned to the muffled cacophony in the distance. <<"A human settlement lies ahead. Barbaric warmongers. Knights, they call themselves. Haters of drow. Around four thousand of them dwell there. I would assume they heard our shouting. So, how will you proceed?">>

I flicked my eyes between Etan's stoic gaze and Etyl's smug grin and snorted like the petulant child I was. <<"On foot.">>