Abyssal Road Trip - 347 - Calling for you (Patreon)

Amdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane

The sun was hours above the horizon before Amdirlain moved from her mountainside perch. The happiness had shone in Orhêthurin’s childhood memory. It was the first from her childhood Amdirlain had recovered since regaining Resonance. That Orhêthurin could already see through the world’s music shouldn’t have been a surprise, yet it was all the same.

Did she witness the wave take her mother, or was her attention on the forge? Is that part of the guilt she felt?

With a casual push, she dropped from the perch and drifted towards the rocky cove. The target of Gideon’s list here was beneath the waves, so it didn’t matter where she stood. A form sprang from the water and twisted in the air before it plunged again. Others followed its acrobatic example and allowed Amdirlain glimpses of their silver-scaled sides. The Merfolk variant that played beneath the waves was a mix of genders, but it seemed like only the females intended to put on a show.

When her feet settled on the rocks, Amdirlain began to sing. Rather than use Silent Song, Amdirlain let them hear as much of the melody that would change their futures as possible. The sound drew some of them close to the surface, and Amdirlain took in their enormous eyes, peeking out through the wave’s foam. Theirs wasn’t a humanoid face. Noseless, their eyes sat above a mouth of razor teeth, and their evolution had positioned gills on the sides of their chests.

None of them were currently aware enough to understand much beyond the presence of a strange figure on the shore. The music that changed them moved on and extended into the deep to affect their colony. With the ability to gain access to Mana now a dominant trait, Amdirlain considered another jump between stars.

An orb of light appeared nearby, and Sarah’s voice buzzed in her ear. “Hope your progress is going well. Kadaklan and I have set our places up in the three weeks you’ve been gone.”

“I’ll be gone a while. I’m going to head to Ijmti and check in with the Eldest. After that, I’ll see if I can track down the entry to the primordial planes from there,” advised Amdirlain, and her Spell’s energy vanished.

“Try to stay safe,” replied Sarah.

The first Plane Shift took her to the Elemental Plane of Earth, where she donned the path’s pendant and opened a Gate. The view through it looked down the valley to the fortress, and Amdirlain gingerly stepped through in her Wood Elf form and waited. The Plane's energies prickled at her resistances, but nothing caught hold of her flesh. A connection through the pendant buzzed with a stranger’s voice. ‘Security check, since I don’t recognise you. Take a step back and one to your left.’

‘Dagrastûr first brought me to the cloister. I’m called Am,’ replied Amdirlain.

‘Welcome home again, Am. Come forward steadily towards the furthest point from the valley’s wall. The second tier of defences. I’ll lift some of my right limbs when you get close enough to take flight safely.’

The Fallen along the tiers were a bizarre mix of species and body shapes similar to her first two visits. Though there were elven and near-humanoids, they also ranged to multi-limbed creatures that would fit a prime-time horror show. There were two very exotic-looking Fallen on the outmost point of the second tier who had their attention fixed on her. One was a spider-like entity with too many limbs and orange and grey chitin. The other looked like a floating octopus, its semi-translucent skin sporting thousands of softly glowing black rings.

Some ballistae along the tiers moved to track her until Amdirlain was within a hundred metres. When the spidery Fallen flexed three of its right limbs upwards, Amdirlain flew forward and landed without fuss on the tier beside it. The Fallen had its pendant attached to a band sealed to the chitin above its eight eyes.

‘If you announce your arrival in advance, you might put fewer beings on edge.’

Amdirlain nodded in apology. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Polyglot’s influence turned Amdirlain’s reply into a series of clicks and chirps.

The Fallen’s mandibles clicked in surprise, but its reply came through the pendant’s link again. ‘No others here know my original language.’

“It’s a Power I possess that handles the translation,” admitted Amdirlain. “If you’d prefer me to avoid using it, I’ll do so.”

“Hearing the language again was a surprise but, I find, not an unwelcome one,” clicked the Fallen. “You may call me Kres if you wish, Am. The Eldest awaits you—your arrival also surprised them.”

With no clue how they’d translate her body language, Amdirlain held herself still. “Thank you, Kres. Should I go through the tunnel at the end of this tier?”

“The safe route goes through the lower tier of the fortresses currently,” advised Kres, and they waved a claw along the parapet. “The entry at the mid-point of this tier is currently open. Take the stairs to the left first.”

Without further delay, Amdirlain headed along the walkway behind the ballistae and kept well back from the members tending to the weapons. As she moved along, Fallen after Fallen turned to her and nodded or signalled a respectful acknowledgement of her presence. Four had clear pendants on display, but only one spoke. His appearance was that of a blue-skinned Troll with black eyes and long, spindly limbs that were deceptively strong from the song resounding in his flesh, his bloody, tattered wings hidden within his form. He only wore breeches of black cloth, and when she went to pass him, he touched a clawed hand to his clear pendant.

With a toothy smile, he motioned to her. “My thanks, Am. I’m called Xarlon.”

“The result is a credit to your efforts. You stayed on?”

Waggling a finger, Xarlon smiled. “We walk the path together. I stand guard to keep the path safe for my friends who aren’t yet so fortunate.”

Amdirlain bowed respectfully. “Hopefully, I find other opportunities to save mortals that I might share.”

His smile widened, but nothing was ominous about him despite the teeth on display. “May the creators bless you and those mortals whose rescue you led.”

“We’ll have to see,” replied Amdirlain, waving towards the door she sought. “The Eldest is waiting on me.”

Xarlon gave her another fearsome grin, and Amdirlain moved on.

The polite greetings made the angry song of Rahka stand out even more. The curdled rage signalled her presence on the other side of the fortress on the lower tier in an internal chamber working at a forge. Her sharp motions made her state of mind clear to those around her. Amdirlain could still hear her harpoon and chain weapon through a storage device about her person.

Amdiralin passed through the ward in the doorway and followed Kres’s instructions, noticing the traps on the other stairway. Another Fallen entered the forge where Rahka was working, and Amdirlain listened while she walked along.

“It has turned up,” hissed a stranger, and Amdirlain memorised their angry song.

Rahka slammed the hammer down on the part she’d been forging, bending it off true. “Then you should watch her, not run to me.”

You should both tend to your redemption and not worry about me.

Amdirlain listened to the argument continue, but she reached the downward shaft before it concluded. The training halls inside the mountain were busy with easily a hundred more Fallen than she’d heard on the previous visit. Among them were Tinco and Dagrastûr, and the melody of Tinco’s four classes were all in the low nineties. Amdirlain continued to check others but heard the matching clear melody in Tinco’s pendant and Dagrastûr’s crystal.

Free already? I didn’t tell them exactly how many mortals they’d be saving. Is she looking to get stronger to help more people later? Four classes as well. Should I be happy or worried that she took my advice?

‘Te and Dagrastûr, I’m at the fortress if you’d meet me later,’ transmitted Amdirlain.

Tinco’s touch was a happy warmth through the pendant despite the typical quietness of the words. ‘Heaven’s blessing upon you, Am. I’ve good news to share. I and the others have been hoping you might arrive to celebrate with us.’

The touch of the link hinted that her words had also gone out to Dagrastûr, and Amdirlain made a note to figure out all the elements of the link’s song.

‘I’m in the training hall past the largest library,’ advised Tinco.

‘I’ll find you in the training hall after I speak to the Eldest.’

‘What do you normally do to celebrate?’

‘Mount expeditions to destroy demons,’ replied Dagrastûr.

Amdirlain heard others approaching the shaft during her descent, but none entered it before she reached the end. The Eldest was currently only twelve metres tall, from the front clawed feet to the curve of the tentacle-covered crest. They stood quietly in a strange crouch positioned between the point of the cavern’s teardrop end and the crystal dome. Beyond the Eldest, the mournful rage of the deities’ fading energies filled the chamber with an unpleasant static. Her improvement with Resonance helped the anguish spear into her thoughts, and Amdirlain pulled in Resonance.

Sarah and Kadaklan would likely scold me, but I have a new training location for Resonance.

“Eldest, you wanted to see me?” asked Amdirlain.

They noted the effect of the sound barrier last time. I’ll leave it off unless I want to talk to him about something I don’t want anyone overhearing.

The Eldest's claws clicked, and the central mouth on its chest flexed in speech. “Welcome Am. Yes, I wanted to see you; in part because I’ll admit I’m not sure what to make of you.”

Amdirlain sighed and gave a genuine shrug. “I’ve hardly given you the time to get to know me.”

“Do you seek the path’s judgement?”

Giving a tense head shake, Amdirlain forced her tone to calm. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“You do not wish to see how your travels have progressed your redemption? Or is it you fear what you’ve done?”

“Both. Yet it’s beside the point; there are things I need to achieve before seeking its judgement again. Until I complete those, I can’t risk its forgiveness being unavoidable.”

One of the Eldest’s tubular limbs curved inwards, and the tentacles that ringed it brushed its abdomen. “You believe it would impose forgiveness on you?”

“I don’t know if it would or wouldn’t. My situation is different from the rest of the cloister,” replied Amdirlain, and she tucked her hands behind her back.

“How many lives did the work against that Spawning Abomination save?”

The newscaster’s projected death toll still curdled in her mouth, and Amdiralin’s nose wrinkled. “I only have the projected worst-case estimates. I take it the path treated those who helped decently?”

“The cloister now has a contingent of fifty Fallen with their pendants clear enough to free themselves of their state in one unprecedented event,” advised the Eldest, its tone crisp.

“I spoke briefly to Xarlon. He said he was assuming guard duty for his friends who weren’t so fortunate, but surely they’re not all waiting?” enquired Amdirlain.

The Eldest huffed from its side mouths, and the crest of tentacles waggled about sampling the air. “But they are. None of them feel as if they should move on. Each gives me different reasons, but the result is a group who feels they owe their speedy redemption to you instead of the cloister’s methods.”

“But they do owe it to the cloister’s methods. Without me learning about your existence and meeting Dagrastûr, none of them would have gained the opportunity,” countered Amdirlain. “Those that came through, I’m sure, didn’t hold the same anger as Rahka. Maybe we should have let her stay, and when she failed and the others passed, I wonder if they’d take that as confirmation or find another excuse.”

“No, Dagrastûr was right to send her back. We’ve experienced failure when one such was allowed to remain,” advised the Eldest. “The desires of one can’t be allowed to endanger mortals.”

“I’m sure Rahka has some among the cloister that believe she was ill-done by,” replied Amdirlain, and her lips twitched into a sarcastic smile as she caught onto those above listening to the conversation. “Would Rahka ever believe she was in the wrong? I’d never met or spoken with her, but she started with angry accusations upon her arrival. It was quite the contrast to Dagrastûr and Te coming through willing to keep an open mind for the sake of the mortals. Rahka was more interested in verbally attacking me and hunting the undead. She made no mention of mortals in danger.”

The Eldest flexed the claws on his upper limbs. “No doubt. Some believe they can find redemption by proving they weren’t in the wrong, no matter how we try to convince them. Many of those we lose from the path come from such members. How many were believed to be imperilled by the worst-case scenario?”

“The figure I heard was eighty million spread between three nations,” replied Amdirlain.

Tilting his head, the Eldest huffed in surprise. “That explains why all those who answered your call benefited so greatly. I appreciate you merely telling Dagrastûr that the undead imperilled mortals. It ensured those who took the chance on your information had good intentions. The cause of this Spawning Abomination was a divine curse?”

“That’s my understanding, based upon the local knowledge and what investigation I managed into it. The mortals have managed the situation in such a way it both affords them strength and allows them to gather resources.”

“The veins of magical metals and materials in the caverns?” questioned the Eldest.

Amdirlain shrugged. “I believe it would have serious implications for their society if the caverns simply vanished.”

“Dagrastûr mentioned that their society has become built upon the suffering inflicted upon them. I can see their parallels with us, except their forebears brought the curse upon themselves.”

“I’ll say the fault is still undetermined. Though the Catfolk might have painted themselves as the victim, the legends among the dwarves partially corroborate the situation. Their pantheons and another Catfolk one was attacked by other pantheons and cities wiped out,” replied Amdirlain. “I’m sure there are some among the cloister who can tell you the damage taking delight in following the wrong deity’s orders could bring.”

“You are sure of that?”

“Yes, Eldest,” said Amdirlain firmly.

The upper limbs that supported the Eldest's crab-like claws flexed towards her. “Those that sought our help for you said you were a cursed Soul, not a former Angel. Are you Orhêthurin?”

"No, I'm not Orhêthurin," asserted Amdirlain.

“Your words taste of truth,” allowed Eldest. “Who were you then?”

“Does that matter?”

Waggling a claw thoughtfully, the Eldest answered after a pause. “I would appreciate some context on your situation?”

“I was a Human woman before a curse turned me into a Succubus, but I kept my sense of self from my previous life. They used an artefact made by the Titan to do it. I was a Mortal Soul inside a demonic shell that tried to manipulate and corrupt me. I grew strong enough to earn an evolution that changed me to a Fallen. If I follow the Redemption’s Path, I’m told I’ll be freed of the curse. It judged me for everyone I’d harmed since the curse but gave me no credit for thousands I’d helped while both a Succubus and a Fallen.”

“More truth, though I’ll admit I’ve not heard of that species,” admitted the Eldest, the claws of his front feet tapping against the stone. “Would you tell me of this species?”

“They’ve existed upon a world called Vehtë for maybe five or six thousand years,” advised Amdirlain. “My understanding is the Human deities were allowed into the realm as refugees, but not everything I’ve been told has turned out to be the truth. I’ve no idea if the first humans came with them or were willed into existence. They once had ten pantheons, but a Gods’ War reduced that to one composed of the survivors and new gods that arose. The death toll that caused among the mortals was horrendous.”

“A Gods’ War. Unpleasant. I can see how that would also incline you to believe the Catfolk,” allowed the Eldest. “I believe we’ll need to investigate the Catfolk further.”

“Why?” asked Amdirlain with a frown. “The current mortals are the victims of a curse.”

The Eldest’s crest rippled. “Not to harm them. The goal would be to determine if we should seek to break the curse, or stay away. It might impact their material lives, but the abominations’ presence certainly impacts their souls.”

If they can, having the demi-planes provide more materials would avoid the economic impacts. Then, the only loss would be the Tier 6 and 7 classes. I hope most of those with Tier 7s would prefer people to be safer than personal power.

“If you can figure out how to break the curse, I’d appreciate being involved,” replied Amdirlain.

The Eldest’s claws clicked softly. “Might I ask how you managed to spend time in an inhabited world on the Material Plane?”

“A friend from when I was alive summoned me to the world,” replied Amdirlain. “We were investigating reports of Eldritch incursions when we found the world.”

“The Diamond Dragon who contacted Dagrastûr?” enquired the Eldest.

The thought of Sarah’s reaction to being called a mere Diamond Dragon got a grin from Amdirlain. “Yes.”

“Were there Eldritch present?”

Amdirlain nodded, and her fingers twitched against the side of her legs. “Thousands, but fortunately most were mental parasites that proved easy to kill, though healing the afflicted was harder.”

The Eldest waved a tubular arm upwards. “Healing is always harder. I’m surprised your psionics could interact with their thoughts.”

Yeah, the cloister is where the wounded celestials come.

“Our psionic capability couldn’t understand their minds, but we were able of overloading their mental frameworks with a surge. They weren’t the only problem; we broke up a cult formed around Eldritch. While investigating, we found a Mortal group doing the same and provided them with tools to detect the mental instabilities that cause mortals to attune to the Eldritch.”

“You seem to involve yourself in unusual situations, Am,” noted the Eldest. “I’ve had very few conversations with any Celestial about the Eldritch.”

Their dry tone pulled a bark of laughter from Amdirlain. “Unusual situations are very subjective. I’m not sure I know what normal is any more. When I was alive, I wouldn’t have believed my life could take the route it’s gone down. Standing here and talking to you would have been way out of my normal range.”

“Are you sure you won’t try the path again?” enquired the Eldest.

“Quite sure, I’m not ready to die. I don’t know if it will happen, but I’m not taking the chance until I finish some of the unusual situations I’m involved with,” advised Amdirlain. “Even if I don’t die, some of what I need to finish involves freeing mortals trapped in the Abyss. I’m better positioned to help them by staying as I am.”

The Eldest nodded. “We do what we can for the sake of others.”

“I hope it’s them I’m putting first, not my fears driving me,” admitted Amdirlain.

“If it does cause you to die, we will ensure your Soul gets free from the Abyss,” promised the Eldest.

Tears prickled in her eyes, and Amdirlain wiped them away. “I appreciate the offer, but my Soul would need to get out of the darkness within the dome. While I hope I’d make it out if I am to risk oblivion with whatever lies in that pit, I want it to be without regrets.”

“You’ve felt the edge of the platform?”

“There sounds like quite a drop if one goes off it,” allowed Amdirlain.

One of their claws pointed up. “I believe you have some waiting for you.”

Amdirlain motioned upwards. “Te said she’d be in the training hall past the largest library.”

“Take the third passageway when ascending the shaft, then just follow the sounds of weapons.” instructed the Eldest.

Likely best to avoid making use of Kopis.

“Thank you for your time, Eldest.”

Amdirlain gave them a polite bow and flew up the shaft at a pace that let those who loitered above disperse.

The library she passed connected multiple levels and was nearly a kilometre from end to end. Even without Resonance showing her the passage’s length, the hall at the end was easy to find. The corridor had been a straight run along the side of the library’s lowest floor. After two sets of double doors to muffle the noise, she entered a foyer adjoining the hall with equipment racks lining the wall. They had decorated its length with images of various Fallen, a mind-blowing mix of alien species, only some of whom Amdirlain had seen at The Exchange. Here and there, decorative columns featured full-sized representatives of Orhêthurin; the set of her gaze conveyed a certain judgemental coldness of demeanour.

Yes, even if I used a different form, since they all possess True Sight, they’d expect to see my True Form underneath it.

With all the wards, maybe they’d like a Mana generator to help keep them in place? But that is another complicated thing to offer.

The training hall was a large domed chamber with Fallen sparring in various sized forms; some were airborne while others kept their fights strictly at ground level and in sparring circles that soaked up the released energies. Tinco’s theme painted her presence on the hall’s far side, but she’d otherwise have been hard to spot among the grotesque and exotic beings. Even those whose species seemed similar manifested in ways that set them apart. Two reptilian Fallen sparring nearby were a prime example, the scales of one appeared to ooze a yellow sludge while the other seemed formed from a black dust. The themes within both were far older than many of those at the cloister. As Amdirlain took in their appearance, the Fallen formed of the black dust won the point and spotted her looking their way.

Nodding politely, Amdirlain teleported to the hall’s far side and found Tinco checking swords within a rack. She wore the same tight, silvery bandage top and pants with her feathery wings furled tight. “Looking for a replacement, Te?”

“I was considering what blade to train with next,” corrected Tinco, but her smile when she looked toward Amdirlain was relaxed. “It is good to see you again, Am. I had expected the Eldest to keep you longer.”

“Does it help to mix up the swords you use in training?” asked Amdirlain.

Tinco nodded. “I find it does, though not all take the same approach as I do. You fought with your bare hands and spells. Do you use a sword at all?”

“A shorter blade than yours, spears, staffs, and a few other weapon types,” advised Amdirlain.

“Should we spar or go celebrate?”

“You’ve got the progress to celebrate. When are you moving on, Te?”

Tinco frowned and twitched a hand towards others training. “I’m mostly celebrating for the others who have been at their endeavours for millennia. I feel as if I should remain for a time. While I gain strength, I can lend help to others. The path may have forgiven and offered to release me, but I’m not sure I have forgiven myself. I cost thousands of mortals their lives, and I’ve not been a Fallen for even five years. Shouldn’t my endeavours take thousands of years, not be over in a blink?”

That Celestial eternal mindset. Is that part of why Ori made it so hard, so those worthy would accept they’d earned it? Or is it just her being reluctant to help them, also aligned with some mindsets that they deserved a hard punishment?

“You took a risk accepting my offer at face value and fighting the abomination,” disagreed Amdirlain. “That said, take the option you feel is right for you.”

She should have seen that destroying that abomination potentially saved millions. With that point? Why did the Eldest need to ask?

Glancing down, Tinco noticed Amdirlain’s pendant. “Did the path not recognise your deeds?”

“I’ll eventually check with it, but I’ve reasons to hold off,” replied Amdirlain. “Being a Fallen, I can more readily strike at the home planes of my foes.”

“Then we should spar and develop our strengths,” said Tinco, and she pointed Amdirlain to a rack of spears and took up a pair of thin blades.

Amdirlain smiled in anticipation. “I’m likely to learn far more than you.”

“Every opponent teaches something new,” countered Tinco.

Beckoning to Amdirlain with her blades, Tinco headed towards a vacant space near the hall’s edge.

A metal staff in another rack caught Amdirlain’s gaze, and she claimed it instead. Spinning it hand over hand to test its weight and balance, her speed created a buzzsaw impersonation. The differences in their weapons and physical speed gave Amdirlain an edge, but Tinco’s greater weapon mastery would press her hard.