Abyssal Road Trip - 328 - Ignite (Patreon)

Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris- Year 4370 (Local calendar)

Months of interviews and performances quickly passed for Amdirlain without news of Kadaklan’s return. The only comfort was Cyrus confirming that his situation awaited review at Judge Po’s court. The constantly repeated questions from different interviewers were something she’d grown used to over the years. Heading off stage after the last encore, she walked through the venue’s back corridors, and Jan’era kept pace beside her.

“I’ve not booked any more venues, but when are you thinking you’ll need a sound booth available?” asked Jan’era, her dark red tail patting Amdirlain.

“I won’t need one, Jan’era,” replied Amdirlain, and she stopped to hand over a data plate.

Jan’era looked at it warily. “What’s this about?”

“Investment instruments. This is your copy; after taxes and advocate expenses, the profits get split evenly between a few causes. Some involve your studio,” advised Amdirlain.

“You’re kidding. What are you doing?” protested Jan’era.

“One split is sponsoring new artists at your pride’s studio, at least while you’re the manager,” laughed Amdirlain. “I’m sure you’ll treat them well; this is so neither of you have upfront cost exposures. I hope you’ll give artists with smaller or niche appeal chances.”

“Is there something going on with Kadaklan’s disappearance?” asked Jan’era. “I thought the law keepers had dismissed all the inquires.”

“No, he’s at home. The senior officials have been keeping him busy,” replied Amdirlain. “He’s not a Wizard, so he can’t reply to Message spells. It's an extra mess since the Elders of his area don’t allow outsiders to visit. The law keepers truth read all that and stopped hassling for more.”

Likely some attempts to contact him have extended his absence.

“It’s been four months,” observed Jan’era.

Amdirlain shrugged helplessly. “The elders have a different perspective on time than us youngsters.”

Time to get rid of this Skill so I don’t get into an argument about what I’m about to say.

[Muse’s Insight selected

Femme Fatale [S] (152) evolved into Muse’s Insight [S] (97)

Inspire [S] (10) merged into Muse’s Insight [S] (97 -> 101)

Diplomacy [M] (8) merged into Muse’s Insight [S] (101 -> 102)]

The pressure vanishing from her Mental Clarity caused Jan’era to blink in surprise. “What happened to your Charisma?”

“A Skill evolution that I’ve been keeping at bay,” explained Amdirlain. “I wanted to stop being sex on two legs, and thanks to you and Cla’nes, a way was offered.”

“What are you planning to do?” asked Jan’era.

Amdirlain smiled sadly. “I’ve got some things to wrap up, and then we’re considering heading home as well.”

“You better not just be dumping this on me and leaving. Give us time to organise you a proper farewell,” protested Jan’era. “Or preferably a party to celebrate you staying around.”

After taking out the Eldritch threat, I still have hundreds of cities for which I need to finish demi planes.

“That I can promise you,” replied Amdirlain, and she hugged Jan’era.

“You could have given me a bit more advance notice,” grumbled Jan’era good-naturedly.

Giving into temptation, Amdirlain reached up and rubbed Jan’era’s pink ear. “Then you would have wasted energy trying to talk me out of it.”

Mock snapping at Amdirlain’s hand, Jan’era huffed. “Did this change of Skill ruin your ability to perform?”

“No, but my purpose in coming here was partly to learn control over my Charisma,” replied Amdirlain, and she momentarily tried to extend her Charisma. The precision of the response brought out a smile. For the first time, her presence felt like a limb rather than an affliction.

“Until you leave, I’ll keep one of the sound booths open,” said Jan’era. “I’m not a bad sound technician. If you feel like recording anything, let me know.”

Laughing, Amdirlain released Jan’era from the hug and hooked arms with her. “Let’s go have some fun at the afterparty.”

“Are you going to stay for the whole thing?”

Amdirlain nodded. “I just might.”

* * * * *

Sarah looked up when Amdirlain appeared in the living room. “I was going to ask if you’d extended the tour, but I can tell from your Charisma you’ve not.”

“No, four months is more than enough,” replied Amdirlain. “If I need time to recover after fights, it won’t be near civilisation. My Tier 6 achievement got downgraded tonight; pesky background experience feed. Once we contain the Eldritch, I’ll focus on True Song again.”

“Are you going to cut off the experience feed shortly?”

“Yeah, and all the new cities, I’ve already put the energy feed in maintenance mode for the crystals,” replied Amdirlain. “I’ve got Mor’lmes planning a containment ritual in a few days.”

“I still don’t like your plans in that regard,” grumbled Sarah. “What will you do if you’re corrupted by the Eldritch energies again?”

“Not planning to hold still at any point, so we’ll see how it goes,” replied Amdirlain. “You 'right with the backup plan?”

“You’ve identified them. Now you won’t let others get the achievement out of it?”

“Nope, mine, all mine,” huffed Amdirlain. “And not even that since I’m already letting them help. Who knows what credit Gideon will give the locals.”

“Hmm?”

“The tougher ones, you can take the first shot,” offered Amdirlain. “A bunch are weaker than the first fellow I took out.”

“Let me guess, you don’t plan to let anyone help with them?”

Amdirlain frowned. “I thought you might want to take them out. You’ve got enough weaponry to leave them a smear on the landscape.”

“Not worrying about them coming back later?”

“That’s not the priority,” confirmed Amdirlain.

Sarah’s gaze brightened as she gave a predatory grin. “You give the nicest gifts.”

“I made a gift for myself, don’t worry,” grinned Amdirlain, and she twirled a pair of new blades. She’d crafted each Kopis from True Song Crystal, with enchantments to sheathe it in her choice of Mana and resize it to match her form or intent while held.

“I’ve got some toys of my own,” huffed Sarah.

Lifting an eyebrow, Amdirlain’s ears twitched curiously. “Things that make them go boom?”

“Bits of magical tech from here and there. The local vehicle reactors have been fun to play with. They give weaponry some extra punch.”

“You’re not going to show me your toy?” protested Amdirlain, and she pouted and blinked sadly at Sarah.

Sarah laughed. “I’ll show you the results first.”

“But you’ll be hunting on your own,” pouted Amdirlain.

“I’m sure there will be observer teams whose memories you can dredge up,” responded Sarah primly.

* * * * *

Amdirlain tracked down the location of the observer teams to a farm close to the first target’s manor. Though ritual magic didn’t require proximity, the closer to the target, the more power one had to spare.

The lean, black-furred fellow leaning beside the exterior door and pretending to sip his drink occasionally, didn’t look like much of a guard. Attired in his garish purple shirt and burnt amber pants, he looked like a farm kid who wanted to run off to the city. He had protective armbands and detection spells active while he acted indifferent. He didn’t even stiffen when Amdirlain strolled through the tree line towards the barn.

Hooking a thumb into her necklace, Amdirlain lifted the crystal medallion from her dark green shirt’s neckline. Her medallion showed the same songbird motif that the guard possessed and glittered in the sunlight, but he didn’t react.

“I’ve not seen you working on nearby farms,” the guard yawned; his gaze stayed disinterested as he took in the medallion.

“That’s because I don’t; Mor’lmes knows me by J,” replied Amdirlain.

“He didn’t say you’d be showing up here.”

Amdirlain shrugged. “Not like I’ve ever asked him for permission. I’ve always been giving him timelines.”

“Two hours to get to the first meeting,” huffed the guard as he silently used the link unit hidden under his shirt.

“Thirty minutes,” corrected Amdirlain.

Nodding slowly, the guard smiled. “Right, okay. He said you can come inside to play.”

Amdirlain laughed. “I’m sure that wasn’t how he put it.”

The guard’s whiskers twitched up. “‘Moonless night. Why is she here?’ takes familiarity with him to translate properly.”

Stepping further from the door, he let Amdirlain approach and open it herself.

Mor’lmes spared only a single over-the-shoulder glance before fixing his hazel gaze on the three-metre display secured to the far wall. Around the barn’s open floor, the twenty-three members of the observer teams weren’t so relaxed about the stranger’s intrusion. Hands dropped to the hilts of energy projectors, and Amdirlain could hear their minds racing through potential combat options.

“You’re still such an unsocial bastard, Mor’lmes. Would it kill you to introduce me before someone has a fit?” asked Amdirlain. “You’ve got everyone keyed up for a mystical struggle and didn’t tell them a visitor had arrived.”

“Everyone, this is J. J, this is everyone that’s learnt both the spell lists you gave me last year,” grumbled Mor’lmes.

While walking around the circle, Amdirlain checked for mistakes and listened for off-key notes. “Some of you need to level more. Do you need more time in the training zones?”

Memories of the continent-sized demi planes she’d set up spun through their minds. Amdirlain learned that all of them were familiar with the most challenging zones, providing greater elementals to fight.

“All those taking part have at least Senior Master in Ritual Casting,” declared Mor’lmes, not taking his attention from the display again. “I trust them.”

Fun sub-text, ‘trust them’ but not me. That’s fair.

“That’s high praise from you, grumpy,” responded Amdirlain, and she headed towards him as the others relaxed.

The enchantments in Mor'lmes' display had the surface gleaming, but the received signals were floating mid-air a hand span before it. His lack of concern for her approach further settled the observers’ tense reactions to the stranger.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Amdirlain added as people's eyes stayed fixed on her.

“J, please stop distracting people,” grunted Mor’lmes, not taking his gaze from the display. “I hadn’t expected you to show up here before starting your assault.”

Not so bristly today, but still not overly friendly.

“It’s not my assault; it’s ours, as everyone here contributes. What’s wrong? Did Wha’sin kick you out of bed early this morning?” asked Amdirlain. “I hope you’re at least not sullen around your pregnant mate. Smile, it shouldn’t break your muzzle.”

Mor’lmes grunted again, but he looked up at Amdirlain in surprise. “You’re not so ‘pushy’ today.”

“I’ve learnt how to moderate my Charisma to Mortal levels. I’ll admit it took me a time,” replied Amdirlain. “Jokes aside, I hope everything is alright with Wha’sin.”

“A bit of morning sickness,” admitted Mor’lmes.

Amdirlain nodded sympathetically. “I hope it doesn’t get her down. My brother’s mate had awful morning sickness.”

He frowned at her words and tilted his head curiously. “I had the impression you weren’t Mortal.”

“I’m not, but I didn’t start that way. Anyway, to business. It’s a bit before time, but it sounds like they’re in residence alone,” Amdirlain reported. “Are you waiting for anyone else?”

“No, but someone must have changed their schedule. Normally there’d be three in the manor at this time of day,” noted Mor’lmes, and he sent a message to hamper anyone approaching. “Give us ten minutes.”

“Take all the time you need. If someone shows up unexpectedly, we can use it as a dry run and target a different location,” replied Amdirlain.

The complex containment formation shivered along the edge of the three-story Manor property. Its pattern mirrored chaos back on itself, ordering it through the repetition of its energy alone. As the ritual Mana surged into its structure, Amdirlain heard the Skinwalker try to teleport away. The Spell's energy clashed with a barrier that prevented the creature from going beyond the property's edge. When it appeared, it immediately tried to race across the boundary, only for the Spell to redirect its motion and push it back.

So some of them can teleport. Their intel was correct.

[Name: Qui’tes, Ghosttrail pride

Species: Eldritch Skinwalker

Primordial Tier: 2

Health: 1,174,124

Defence: 678

Magic: 3,797

Details: A junior member of the inner circle dedicated to the Delirium of Darkness is an Eldritch who now wears the face of Qui’tes.

Former military, after her career stalled out she received an honourable discharge following the destruction of her cycle’s Spawning Abomination. Seeking a spot in civilian life didn’t go well until she joined the cult; it opened doors and provided opportunities she couldn’t secure on her own.]

As the creature attempted to breach the barrier, Amdirlain stepped through it some distance away. The containment field added energy to her momentum, and she raced towards the manor. Amdirlain’s arrival attracted the Eldritch’s attention and turned it towards her. Its teleport brought it into reach, but Amdirlain had already blurred away and pulled her shadow vines into inventory.

It teleported to attempt an intercept and lunged at her only to run face-first into the aura of Phoenix’s Rapture; Primordial energy turned the air between them into a white-hot inferno. An inferno that boiled its fake flesh away while the oily substance that made up its true form steamed. Ki Movement pulled against the anchor points in her sigil, and Amdirlain spun like a top despite teleporting around its flailing form. Each teleport caused the flaming aura to stutter in and out of existence, hampering its ability to orientate on Amdirlain. A cut from a crystal Kopis whistled and smoothly severed an outstretched hand at the wrist.

The severed alien flesh turned to ash before it reached the ground.

Amdirlain had moved away when a blast of Eldritch flames exploded towards her face, only to sail above the mite suddenly hidden in the melting dirt. The creature spun to locate her, and Amdirlain exploded upwards again. Her swords resized flawlessly between shapes and flayed open the charred flesh across its back to allow the aura to dig deeper. Empowered notes rang through Amdirlain’s shifting tendons and gouged along its burning skin.

The erratic motions she spent years using to avoid Sarah’s weapon danced her away from the next blast. A trio of lances pursued and struck through her aura and cut gullies along Primordial-infused flesh. Amdirlain reappeared behind it in Mousekin form, blades ripping flesh open along their calves. Reacting to the rapid strikes that cleaved flesh, the thing unleashed a wall of flames behind it, but Amdirlain had already moved. Her course took her between its legs, trailing blades behind her. She grew again, and the shift in her form’s song and blades struck together.

The curved blade of one Kopis and then the other filleted the oily thighs from knee to crotch. A burst of Eldritch flames erupted toward her back, but Amdirlain vanished, and a shutter in the flames signalled another teleport. When the flames reappeared, Amdirlain was nowhere in sight. As her aura raged, melting grass, soil, and flesh alike, Amdirlain maintained the form of a microscopic bug overhead. She raced around the creature, destroying trees and ornaments across the front lawn; the barrier had already contracted to prevent it from taking cover in the house.

Trying to escape, it vanished from beneath her, and the barrier deflected its attempt to teleport again. Amdirlain’s forelimb blurred, and she shifted position before the cuts crossed each other. Flames exploded around it, and her expansion to her True Form added force to her strikes that exploded through flesh. The three parts of its corpse incinerated into ash, and a beat of her flame-shrouded wings scattered its remains far and wide.

The lack of Eldritch distortion from her healed wounds gained a satisfied nod from Amdirlain.

Switching off her aura, Amdirlain turned her glowing gaze directly at a scrying focal point; Amdirlain smiled. “That’s one down. Do you still wish to work together, or can you take one alone?”

[Combat Summary:

Eldritch Skinwalker x1 (4%)

Total Experience gained: 47,468

Ostimë: +23,734

Ontãlin: +23,734

Phoenix’s Rapture [G] (24->25)

Note: You were a mite pesky.]

How droll, Gideon. Experience seems fair since I was the one that said it was a team effort. Still, I won’t complain about gaining a level in my new Power.

Folding her wings of scarlet, black and gold in tight, she headed towards the barrier and nodded politely to another scrying focal point as the barrier dropped. Between one step and the next, she was in her silvery-furred form, and the dark green fabric clothed her again.

Beyond the closest edge of the smoking, blackened ground, Mor’lmes appeared along her path,

The wariness in his body language seemed to come from the burning ground Amdirlain crossed. Amdirlain sang silently, and by the time she reached them, the flames were out and the grass regrowing.

“You’re a furless bird?” questioned Mor’lmes in his usual grumble.

His perspective had Amdirlain laughing so hard that she ended up holding sides. Her mind still translating that in Australian slang, Amdirlain shook her head. “No, I’m not a furless bird, but I normally don’t have fur, that much is true.”

“With the sharp features and those wings, you looked like a raptor,” noted Mor’lmes.

Amdirlain shrugged. “The Eldritch are among the dangers I hunt, so I guess that makes me a predator. I hope no one had any backlash from the ritual?”

“It hit the barrier harder the second time, but no one was overstressed,” supplied Mor’lmes.

Amdirlain gave a pleased nod. “That’s good. Do we have time to search the manor, or are the law keepers on the way?”

“We’ve received no sign of activity at the closest station,” reported Mor’lmes. “Though that’s no clear sign, since you didn’t drag the fight out, but as far as we can tell, nearby residences don’t have anyone home at present.”

“I’ll take the wards apart then, and whoever wishes to can join me,” replied Amdirlain.

Mor’lmes motioned to the building. “It might be safer to destroy it.”

“Does the deceased have relatives?” asked Amdirlain. “There could be personal belongings of importance that pre-date their conversion.”

“Their things aren’t as important as the risk of others being corrupted,” countered Mor’lmes.

Amdirlain agreed reluctantly, having found enough evidence of the risk in the Arch-Wizard's journals. “How much would the place be worth?”

“You that worried about doing them out of their valuables?”

“I intended to create a few items to compensate them,” replied Amdirlain. "I've no keepsakes of my family, so I'm sensitive about taking such from others."

A message buzzed in Mor’lmes ear, and he frowned in confusion. “Another team reports a target under observation was hit.”

“A friend is handling some of the weaker targets,” explained Amdirlain.

His frown deepened, but Mor’lmes’ tone didn’t shift. “How many of you hunters are there on our world?”

“Two that I’m aware of, but my friend isn’t like me; they’re Mortal,” replied Amdirlain. “Was there much left standing?”

“Standing?” asked Mor’lmes as he fidgeted slightly.

“With the Eldritch, overkill isn’t a thing; they’re either dead or not,” replied Amdirlain. “While I don’t expect them to go too far, blasting its location down to the bedrock might be in the cards.”

It didn’t take Mor’lmes long to get an answer.

“A strike from above slagged their vehicle as they left their home,” reported Mor’lmes.

What gadget did Sarah put together?

Putting the question aside for now, Amdirlain disintegrated not only the building and its contents, but continued drilling down to the bedrock. Before the massive pit, a chest anchored to the ground appeared inscribed with ‘for the next of kin’.

Mor’lmes twitched an ear towards the chest. “How much are you giving them?”

“Ten kilograms of adamantine,” replied Amdirlain. “Hopefully, that’s enough. The pride’s ward key will let them open its protections. Shall we get going?”

“At least you didn’t give them mithril; the market for that has been down a bit,” noted Mor’lmes drily.

“I thought your industry would go through the mithril much faster. Back to today’s business. Shall we see how many more we can take out before they panic?” Amdirlain asked.

“We’ve already got other sites prepared, so we should be able to manage the ritual enough times to clear out all the weaker ones today,” replied Mor’lmes. “At least if we continue with the ones you’ve identified as being of similar strength and still have a margin for error.”

“Agreed, but let’s not cut it too fine. While I can learn their magic rating, that only gives us the raw power they can channel; individual proficiency in using that strength is a different matter,” responded Amdirlain.

Titan’s Forge - Nicholaus’ PoV

The shelves hung from his wall were currently filled with millions of golden figures. Some had their eyes closed in quiet repose after aeons imprisoned in demonic forms while others watched the workings of the aspects. Standing in the middle was the former Lómë royal couple; their hold on the lineage oaths had dissolved with their deaths. Their demise had then released others from the agreements and the effects cascaded. Those imprisoned shattered the demonic shells about their souls and, no longer bound to Balnérith’s command, returned to him.

Retrieving one whose endurance had been challenged, he gently smoothed the pain from her flaws. Another, who had become a willing Succubus, was almost tossed straight into his forge, but he carefully set her into a storage box instead.

“I’ll consider what you endured before you broke another time,” rumbled Nicholaus, and he resumed sorting.

Roher’s PoV - Vehte - North-East region of pre-scourge Persia

Through the allegiance bonds, Roher felt Isa and Ilya’s return. Turning toward the bond’s music, Roher looked over the Lómë’s growing settlement. The pair were racing above the forest that was taking over the hills.

They were dramatically different. Isa appeared like an idolised version of an Anar converted into a Celestial. She had their golden-bronze skin, gold eyes, hair of shining silver, and four long translucent wings. Each feather was an aurora of erratically shifting colours, an energy field rather than a physical manifestation. Gone was her reinforced leather armour; she wore a silken blue shirt and leather pants. Ilya still wore dark leather armour that made her alabaster skin vivid; her four wings possessed feathers that each seemed like a glowing air current.

“Did folks decide who the new rulers will be?” chirped Isa as she landed beside him.

Coming in to land nearby, Ilya laughed. “Aren’t you going to say hello first?”

“Hi Roher, we missed you,” squealed Isa, throwing her arms out wide as she pretended to lunge at him for a hug.

Her antics brought a glimmer of glee into his emerald gaze, and as Roher shook his head in amusement, his silver hair danced on the breeze caused by her wings. Ilya shrinking to a human form prompted Isa to assume her Anar form. After exchanging greetings with them, Roher returned to Isa’s original question.

“There won’t be a central authority. We’re going to continue with community councils, with your addition of limited terms, and consecutive holding of office disallowed,” replied Roher.

“Where’s your better half?” asked Isa.

Roher smiled. “Laergul is meeting with the visitors from the western monastery. I think she’s hoping to get one of them to spar with her.”

“A test of skill, I heartily approve, though doesn’t Farhad call it getting to know someone?” asked Isa.

“In that case, Laergul might get her wish,” said Roher.

Isa looked over the forest and spotted the balconies assembled around the central trees. “It’s strange that the Lómë aren’t going to live in crystal buildings and towers.”

“We need to remember that life might endure, but it’s always changing, and so should we,” replied Roher. “Taking the Taurë example in this won’t hurt.”

“And you’re being so modest in creating an impossible forest half a world away from their goddess,” quipped Ilya.

Roher shrugged. “We’ve still a touch of pride left, but better to be proud of bringing new life to a desolate area than merely about our species. Admittedly, it will impact the area’s ecology but provide far more niches for life to thrive.”

“Oh! If your wife’s hosting, that means the babies are with their aunties,” squealed Isa, and she disappeared.

Ilya sighed and reassuringly patted Roher’s shoulder, being careful of his stump. “I’ll make sure Isa doesn’t spoil them too much.”

“But who will stop you?” asked Roher.

Ilya grinned and vanished.

Singing softly, he planted another seed from the satchel at his hip before he moved on, leaving random trees and bushes growing in his wake.