Amara moved the pieces on the Aryte board. When Morwen got up, Amara figured she’d play on both sides of the board. It allowed her to experiment with different strategies and tactics. Something Morwen had been trying to coach her on. She sighed, trying to fight off boredom.
The massive rune etched double doors opened wide and the Librarian attendant pointed directly to her. “Priestess Amara. Your audience has been requested.” She glanced over from the board for a moment as the Librarian’s words sunk in. She sprang up quickly and squeaked softly as she stretched out. Sitting for so long had left her feeling bunched up.
She strode to the edge of the darkened stairway and looked into the dark gloom. Glancing back at the Librarian, she tried to study its arachnine features for any hint of what she could expect. Should she be worried? Afraid? Trepidatious? Eventually, she settled on optimistically cautious. She snapped her helmet up, sealed it, then drew her white hood over it.
She slowly made her way to the bottom of the dark stone chamber and turned in a slow circle, studying the interior with her maetrayops. When she finished her revolution, she recoiled as intense light nearly blinded her, and she fell to the ground clutching at her helmet, trying to keep her head from exploding. Massive spikes of pain pressed slowly into her temples, threatening to punch through the other side, making her head feel about ten sizes too small.
An instant later, she felt something warm on her shoulder. A soothing warmth, like sitting next to a fireplace in the dead of the cold season, draped in a fur blanket. The tension bled away from her muscles as she relaxed under the warmth. Even the intense pounding in her eyes and head lessened. She sighed as all hints of injury melted away from her.
She looked up and saw a woman crouched down next to her, hand on her shoulder. She was beautiful and horrifying at the same time. Sporting more eyes than any humanoid had a right to own. Dark lips cover long fangs. But it was the jet-black eyes that seemed to pick up the light of a fire, despite there being none present, that caught Amara’s gaze. The woman smiled apologetically.
“Forgive me. It’s rare that I meet a child with your particular gift set.”
When Amara’s face twisted in confusion, the woman smiled again, like a patient teacher realizing she would need to re-explain something. “Your eyes. You possess the ocular magic Maetrayops. When you saw me with them, it overwhelmed you. I should have warned you.”
Amara shook her head in defference. “You’re the great weaver. The error was all mine.”
“Please, just call me Sashlu.”
Amara’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You’re quite different from your friend. He was strong willed. And strong souled. Not the type of man you’d expect subservience from. But you’re the exact opposite. You respect authority and look to it for guidance. So much like her.”
Amara wasn’t sure if she was meant to understand this part of the conversation or not, so she kept silent and let it proceed naturally. The furrow in her brows gave Sashlu another soft chuckle.
“You remind me of a young woman from eons past. She, too, possessed the same ocular magic you do. She could divine nearly all magics. See it gather and move. Even alter its performance in others by striking them precisely where it converged. That is a long-lost art now. But perhaps that is precisely what this epic needs.”
“You’re speaking of Maetraya, your protégé, aren’t you?”
“Indeed. She was insightful and could see much, just like you. A skill you will come to rely on more and more in the days to come.”
“There’s so much about it I don’t yet understand.”
Sashlu sat down on the stone and patted the space in front of her for Amara to sit. “Come. I have stopped time for a short period that I might train you then. Unlike the others, yours is a power I created directly, and thus am in the best position to give you aid.”
Amara was immediately seated before Sashlu. “Now then, when you channel your power, you are immediately fed a dirge of information. To a mind as inexperienced as yours, it can help to filter what your mind processes so you don’t get overwhelmed. Being able to see everything will only do you so much good if it can’t be used to help. I want you to train your mind to focus only on what you need and allow the rest to fade into the background.”
Amara practiced this with Sashlu, using her ability to read magic on Sashlu, who as a goddess was a beacon of magic with a soul anchoring all of it together. She practiced on focusing on aspects of the goddess’s magic. Fire and mind magic were her two largest chunks. The fire burned so strong, and so hot, Amara felt like it might burn her just sitting next to the goddess. The Mind magic felt elusive and slippery. Like it could become whatever she wanted it to be.
Mixed in among the rest were smaller portions of the other magical aspects and realms. Amara felt like a drop in the ocean of power that lived within Sashlu. Training with her to focus on a smaller element took more effort than she would have initially imagined. After spending the great part of a half would peering at different pieces of Sashlu’s aura, Amara’s mind was now thoroughly blown.
“And now, for your gift. Take my hand.”
Amara reached out tentatively before withdrawing it. Sashlu offered a comforting smile. Amara wasn’t sure if this was some kind of trick or not. The whole spider motiff wasn’t landing well with her but she thought she did a good job of keeping that in check so far.
Sashlu chuckled softly, “Child, you’ve nothing to fear. You’re of far greater use to me, empowered and free to act as you will. You’d serve as a disappointing snack if I really wanted to feed on you.”
The color drained from Amara’s face as horror bloomed, but Sashlu simply chuckled softly. “My apologies. I couldn’t help that last joke. Your fear is practically tangible. Please, take my hand. Our time is drawing short.”
Tentatively, Amara reached out and took Sashlu’s hand. At first nothing happened, and she wondered what manner of trap this was. Then the magic flowed. Raw, undistilled aether roared into her body. Permeating every cell and saturating her soul as it rewrote her very existence. Heat and warmth filtered out through every fiber of her body. And it finished before she even realized it began.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
System Info: You have received Strength of Ifrit. Recieve +1 bonus to your strength attribute. Stackable. May exceed racial maximum. Gain +3 AP and +3 Fire Resistance.
“For you, I have gifted you with enhanced physical strength. While you may excel at spell weaving, the maetrayops are a powerful weapon in your arsenal and using them against your enemies will prove vital to your success in the battles to come.”
Amara blinked. “Wow. That’s a mouthful. Also, I’m not really sure how I’d go about doing that?”
Amusement swept across Sashlu’s features again. “Use them on your friends. Study how the aether flows among their body. Do this daily. Soon, once you’ve grown to understand how aether flows throughout the body, you’ll be able to manipulate it.”
“Manipulate it?”
Sashlu nodded encouragingly. “You could block it, or redirect it. Altering a beings flow of aether could incapacitate them or even render them unable to cast magic or even move.”
Amara marveled at the possibilities. She possessed the same martial skill Akamori did, though she rarely employed it given her proclivity for spell casting. She had fast hands, and a faster mind. Now she possessed the ability to back up her speed with the strength to make a difference. She channeled her ability, and she could see the aether flowing through her hand. Guided along through channels like veins for magic.
She turned her hand over, watching the aether pulse through her body and marveling at the cutaway view she now had. She compared her own hand to Sashlus. But she couldn’t see any aether veins or channels. Instead, Sashlu just glowed brilliantly, as though she were composed entirely of aether.
“That’s correct.” The goddess said. “After you ascend to godhood, your body becomes completely magic, after you purge your impurities at demigodhood of course.”
“Purge my impurities?”
Sashlu gave Amara her patient teacher’s smile. “Indeed. After you’ve infused with enough magic, your body becomes more magic than flesh. When you become a demigod, the magic purges your body of all physical impurities. The result can be… gross.”
Amara bit back a laugh at the goddess’s sudden frankness. “Gross?”
Sashlu nodded. “There’s usually lots of vomiting. Defecating. And puss.”
Amara blanched, the color draining from her face. “That is gross.” She shivered at the thought and didn’t want to imagine any further. “I’m fine without going through that.”
“Becoming a demigod is a rare occurrence. Most beings die before they accrue enough magic to reach the tipping point. Others choose not, content with being the peak of mortal condition. There’s also the worship element that can become tedious.”
“Worship?”
“Mhm. A vital component of godhood. First is Aether, your core component of magic. The other is worship. As a god, casting magic for you would simply be an effort of will. What you want to happen is what happens. No more weaving or channeling. Over time, the gods discovered that worship and veneration served as an additional feed or power. Weak gods could grow strong on worship.”
“How?”
“It functions as an exchange. You gift your god a bit of your own aether. In return, they may give you something in return. Access to some magic or ability they know or possess.”
“Like my eyes…” she realized.
“Indeed. Maetraya has recognized you as a priestess. A warrior priestess, much like she used to be. She has gifted you with her vision so that you may see through the fog of war and cut a path to the future.”
“But I’ve never prayed to her? I only just started to learn about her.”
“For some gods, exemplifying their ideals, and embodying their beliefs if worship enough. Having known Maetraya, I believe she gifted you her sight because she recognized her younger self in you.”
“oh.”
Amara’s mind raced, and a beat passed silently as Sashlu gave her space to process that. If her actions were venerating the ideals of Maetraya, she wondered what Akamori and the others might be venerating. When she finally looked back at Sashlu, there was a knowing look. She found the goddess to be very coy and a very nurturing mentor. She wondered how much of that was because she was pursuing a similar path as one Sashlu had once pursued.
Sashlu stood and helped Amara rise with her. She turned to the top of the stone staircase and gestured for Amara to leave. The two exchanged parting words, and Amara drifted up the staircase in a haze. The magic Sashlu had gifted her was heady. She felt like she was walking on air. The armor had been heavy before, but she’d grown used to it. Now that she was naturally stronger, and paired that with the spell armor’s own strength boosting aspect, she was pretty sure she was on par with Akamori or Sirsir now.
As she walked, her ability showed her the way the aether flowed up and down the stairs. Within the black palace, the aether moved differently than it did in the normal world. It had a more ambient flow to it. In what she was coming to know as the light realm or life plane, aether had a more directed flow to it. More systematic. Like it was programmed.
“You’re more right than you know.” A melodic voice said from behind and all around her softly.
She halted her ascent up the stairs and glanced back down at Sashlu, who simply watched her passively with only a slight turn of her head. It wasn’t Sashlu who’d spoken to her, though. This was a new voice. Maetraya?
“No.” the voice replied before the sensation of a presence faded. It felt warm. Bright. It reminded her almost of Eryn, but…. more. Like floating in the center of a star that couldn’t hurt you. Warm, but not painfully so.
At the top of the stairs she found Morwen and Akamori who’d been speaking to each other as she passed through the doorway.
“I can see everything now.”
“Like what?” Akamori asked.
An eager grin crossed her features as she prepared to explain.