Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands

  With the commitment to her daughters in mind, Amdirlain reappeared in her Domain rather than in Hell as she’d implied to Lilith.

  I’ve got more planning and testing to do before I venture into Hell.

  Danu was at her Domain’s border, sitting in the fork of a tree with one leg swaying casually. Her elven form had skin that appeared a blend of moulted wood grains, an amber gaze, and green fronds like hair.

  “Please come join me here, Danu,” Amdirlain said, and Danu teleported near her at the Wellspring. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

  “I sensed your Avatar near the Taur? forest on Veht?. I wondered if there was anything you needed aid with,” Danu replied, as she sat at the base of a tall pine tree.

  “I’m just there to—” Amdirlain paused, considering why she’d felt compelled to return to Veht?.

  “Meddle? To give choices?” Danu offered playfully.

  “Well, there is that. I wanted to learn how things had changed and get a bit of first-hand experience with the Adventurers’ Guild operation within the republic,” Amdirlain said. “There is also an opportunity to transform the energy of some mantles that were concealed after the Gods’ War.”

  Danu straightened. “Those seized from deceased dark deities have just been sitting rotting under the shielding that the Human deities put in place. I’m unsure if any of the mortals have even realised their existence. Why the interest?”

  “I was going to leave them as someone else’s problem, but I know enough to repurpose the energy. It’s also a matter of not wanting to risk an innocent being corrupted if they stumble over them. That won’t happen soon, but could if the seal decays or there is a magical battle in the wrong place.”

  “It’s a possibility. Yet what can you do with this repurposing? Will it impact Veht??”

  “I can separate them from Veht?, but I don’t know enough to decide if I even should. The Gods’ War didn’t leave the Human Pantheon in balance, so I want first-hand experience in how they’re managing. That’s if the gaps in the areas their deities cover even make a difference to their lives after so long with a range of deities in every kingdom. While I’m there, I can help those who look to a few friends.”

  “You’re not exactly the most subtle of individuals,” Danu noted. “Are you sure you won’t stand out as you’ve done on other worlds?”

  “I’m going to limit my skills. My identification only shows me at level forty after all,” Amdirlain smiled. “Though I’m certainly standing out on Yorubi by setting up a magic school, that’s partly because I’m an Elf among the Ontaritu.”

  “Their customs are so strange. Would you teach elven wizards who came to that town?”

  Amdirlain nodded. “You can direct some of your faithful to drift that way.”

  “Are you going to be teaching magic on Veht? as well?”

  “No, I’ll teach physical combat skills. At least I’ll see if the Adventurers’ Guild will let me teach children while I do odd jobs and try to understand how their society has adapted.”

  “There is one thing you could meddle with if you’re of the mind to,” Danu said. “The rise of their goddess of madness and poisons created quite a strain between all the elves and certain groups of humans.”

  “That was the Egyptian princess who enthralled a group of royal guards?”

  “You’ve spent little time among what used to be the ten kingdoms. She started with the Greek gods, then moved on to others,” Danu advised. “She’s a sometime ally of the Hag that killed so many of the human gods.”

  Amdirlain restrained herself to a nod. “In which countries does the tension remain the highest?”

  “Human borders are shifting things I don’t track,” Danu said, causing a map of the Republic lands to hover between them.

  “The old lands of Gaul, Nubia, and Crete,” Amdirlain said, pointing to each. “Do you know why those are the holdouts? I would have thought Gail’s improvements would have eased the tensions with elves in all the republic.”

  “They have good roads, but that lets hate and bigotry towards elves spread just as easily as good news.”

  “Why does this bigotry affect the elves? There are other species.”

  “The princess didn’t just have elves helping her. One gained the Mantle of murder and secrets, becoming her consort. Whenever their activities surface, it creates conflicts. The old pantheons fractured when they lost most of their gods.”

  Anna Perenna was the one who killed the Slavic goddess of life, and I know other Human deities killed their counterparts. Do they target elves because they’re the outsiders, and those who are different are easier to blame en masse?

  “I’ll see what can be done once I learn more. Are you involved in the alliance to protect the Outlands, Danu?”

  “I am. Are you seeking allies to help deal with your prey? I thought you were going to lure them into fighting each other.”

  “We had an incursion that we fought with some other deities,” Amdirlain replied, and explained the details along with her conversation with Lerimoira and Garsisdar.

  “You killed the demons? I thought you were going to wait for all your prey to gather and start biting at each other. You’d accept the danger to yourself and your people but not to others?”

  “I know the safety measures I can take to ensure their safety. Yet I can’t be sure of the capabilities of others, and there might be some to whom I’d be reluctant to offer aid,” Amdirlain explained.

  Danu nodded. “We’ve been taking back millions of worlds thanks to you. Contact me anytime your fledgling alliance needs help, and I’ll ensure others accompany me to help.”

  “You’re not just pushing them back off your invaded worlds, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Danu replied. “They savaged the lands those who worshipped me held dear. I’ll drive them from every world they stole, and more, to make up for those that no longer exist.”

  “If they break from that Pantheon, I’d ask you to guide the species back to a better balance.”

  “I can only do that if the formithians would bother to heed my words,” Danu snorted. “I wager they’ll look towards new deities before they’d look to me after all the worlds I’ve fought them on.”

  While they talked, Amdirlain heard older souls within her Domain’s Wellspring beginning to transform into archons and angels. After Danu’s departure, one who Amdirlain least expected began to change.

  I hope my old teacher won’t change too much by becoming an Astra Deva.

  ? ? ? ? ? ?

  (Avatar) Amdirlain’s PoV - Veht?

  Amdirlain had lingered for a week in the forest, listening to the thoughts of the Taur? elves to learn their views on the Slavic inhabitants south of them. She wore dark green silks without enchantments, but set one in her recurve bow like those possessed by adventurers at her supposed level.

  Throughout the republic, a series of paved roads connected its cities, towns, villages, and even tiny hamlets. The town she’d picked was just south of the border to the Taur? forest. A road ran north from its placement on a winding river to the forest edge. There it stopped before the delicate Taur? wards that threaded through the trees. In the time she’d been there, she’d already seen three caravans pass through to trade with the elven town on the other side of the border and return.

  The precise dwarven style of the connecting roads, yet Human construction, spoke of Gail’s influence in spreading these link roads out from Sanctuary Cove. As she considered the other changes from before she went to the plinth, the teaching sessions on Yorubi and Yúla niggled at the Avatar’s awareness despite their separation. The flow-on impact of minor changes teased her with elusive insights.

  I used to enjoy doing things by myself to recharge, and so it feels odd that it will never be the case again unless I dismiss all the avatars. Do I keep one assigned to the things I want to be doing purely for myself? Another future-me decision.

  Amdirlain turned her attention back to the town itself. Split by the river, it comprised layers of stone walls sandwiched with multi-story buildings. Oddly, the ground floors were half sunk into the earth. As another caravan started to trundle away from the forest, Amdirlain moved to catch up. The guards at the rear eyed her with concern, but relaxed when she flashed an Adventurers’ Guild identification card.

  The closest guard was a tanned, muscular fellow with sun-bleached hair beneath a pot helm; he wore chain mail that covered his arms and down to his knees. “I didn’t hear the merchant was hiring additional guards.”

  “I’m just travelling the same way. Are people going to object if I pass, or do I have to eat road dust until we reach town?”

  “La?ki.”

  Amdirlain regarded him innocently. “Hmm?”

  “The town’s name is La?ki. I know elves don’t bother with place names, but you’ll confuse humans if you don’t use them.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  “A place doesn’t have a name; people have names for places.”

  The guard waved north towards the forest. “The elves in that town called it Mancal?.”

  “That word means the activity of trading, the same word is used for any large location where goods can be brought and sold,” Amdirlain corrected.

  “Well, places have names among humans.”

  “It’s for your comfort, not theirs,” Amdirlain commented. “A place exists regardless of what you call it.”

  “There isn’t any point in arguing with her,” the other guard laughed. “Elves are all that way.”

  The first guard huffed. “It’s fine if you want to pass us, just keep clear of the wagons.”

  Amdirlain nodded and swung wide, lengthening her stride into a mundane, ground-eating pace. Unlike the caravans towed by constructs in Eyrarháls, oxen hauled the wagons that she now passed. Their construction comprised sideboards and ends composed of light varnished white cottonwood sides; hard woods such as hickory and white oak formed the base, the wheel hub, and spokes.

  With her Charisma restrained to very Mortal levels, the drivers barely spared her a glance; they’d seen plenty more alluring maidens among the inhabitants of the trade town.

  There was a fenced exterior yard north of the town for caravans, and in the middle of the afternoon, it was already half full with thirty wagons.

  The fortifications were a blend of cultures. The northern gate resembled the fortifications around ancient Roman cities, featuring a large central arch for wagons, flanked by two smaller side arches for foot traffic. However, the top of the wall was more reminiscent of a European castle, featuring a line of merlons and arrow slits to protect archers. A few hundred metres to her right there was a river gate and path for barges, but at present its portcullis was down and locked.

  As Amdirlain approached, she held up her card again, and the nearest guard waved her through, unbothered by her bow or the daggers tucked into the top of her boots.

  “How do I find the guild hall?” Amdirlain asked before the guard turned away.

  “There are signs throughout La?ki pointing to the hall and the main square on this side of the river. If you get lost, look for one at any main crossroad.”

  “I appreciate the information. Are all the inns on the square?”

  “Stay clear of the inns elsewhere, and save us all trouble,” the guard replied, and waved again for her to move on.

  Stone buildings lined streets fashioned with torso-sized stone slabs. They were set up in a subtle curve to direct water into the drains in the centre of the road. The inhabitants kept well clear of the grills whenever they crossed the bustling streets. Along every street, there were windows at ground level that provided sunlight into the sunken ground floor, and short flights of steps descending to the front doors. Signs with images and writing marked every business, along with some homes. The attire of the inhabitants was a varied blend of styles and materials, from raw hide to silken cloth. They ran from simple tunics and breeches to fancy togas worn by a lady who floated along in a covered litter. Her twin bodyguards, flanking the litter, wore black and gold cuirasses, with matching greaves, and directed the litter with linked devices on their wrists.

  The Adventurer’s Guild was located in a large four-story building closer to the southern gate and away from the main square. A wide laneway ran down its side, leading to a set of double doors, and beyond those was a large hall for processing meat. The foyer layout differed from that in Eyrarháls. Here, they had a sparsely populated jobs board against the left wall, a reception counter with spots for twelve straight ahead, and a cluster of benches in the right corner. Behind the counter, a central corridor led to a flight of stairs with offices on either side.

  Amdirlain moved forward to the only receptionist currently stationed behind the counter. A fair-skinned lady with coppery hair that was restrained by a braided headband and fell down her back. Her uniform was light blue and edged in grey, with the Adventurers’ Guild crest at the throat.

  “Hello,” Amdirlain offered.

  “Greetings,” the receptionist replied with a professional smile. “Are you registered with the guild?”

  “Yes, I’m new to town, and looking to learn about the area.” Amdirlain handed over the card, and the receptionist pressed a thumb to the insert crystal.

  She frowned in confusion and tried again before looking at the name on the card, then up at Amdirlain. “Jay. I think there is a problem with your card.”

  “Why do you believe that, Miss?”

  “Please call me Zivena,” she said, as she tried the card’s crystal again. “This card has no record of any completed jobs. Where did you last take work? I’ll have to contact them for records.”

  Amdirlain smiled sheepishly. “I’ve not taken on any. I signed up, but a friend’s death changed things, so I never went adventuring.”

  “That is an issue. Did no one tell you that copper adventurers are supposed to complete jobs regularly for at least six months after registering?”

  “The receptionist didn’t mention that to me. Can I just register again? I’m happy to pay the fee.”

  I wonder how Verdandi is doing in Tyr’s Wellspring. Would it be rude to ask him?

  Zivena looked sharply conflicted before she settled for polite professional composure. “There are rules in place because of abuse. Your card shows the guild office in Eyrarháls created it. That’s a fair distance from the Taur? Kingdom, yet you’ve not taken any jobs at all.”

  “Things in Eyrarháls didn’t work out as I’d hoped,” Amdirlain explained. “I went directly home afterwards and didn’t enter any Human settlement. Now that things have settled, I’ve time to try my hand at adventuring.”

  “I’ll need to speak to the Guild Master.” Zivena regarded the empty foyer behind Amdirlain, her gaze taking in the lack of people near the windows. “You’re here alone?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “The guild can put you in touch with suitable adventurers to work with,” Zivena offered. “Or would you prefer to find your own companions?”

  “I’m not in a rush. Though rather than taking people’s work, do you need any teachers to help the young?”

  “That’s still a work assignment. Those are jobs normally offered to senior adventurers who have settled down,” Zivena sighed regretfully. “Though given your proficiency in Archery, I’ll see if the Guild Master will let me make an exception.”

  “I hope so; I enjoy teaching.”

  Zivena glanced back at the card sitting on the counter. “It showed you only have Archery as a weapon Skill?”

  “Enfolding Harmony absorbed various weapon skills. I can fight with bare hands, spears, or blades,” Amdirlain clarified.

  “By its name, I didn’t expect that to be a combat Skill.” Zivena blinked and blurted out. “Wait. Did you explain it was evolved at Eyrarháls?”

  Amdirlain regarded her innocently. “No, I just told them it was a mixed fighting style that included weapons, which is true.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Zivena rushed for the stairs, her thoughts bright with excitement at the rarity of evolved skills.

  “Subtlety check - failed!” Gideon projected.

  That’s just being mean. I took the suffixes off all my skills and hid a few. They didn’t react to the other grandmaster skills, and evolved skills didn’t come up in anyone’s thoughts until now.

  “Yet you left them in grandmaster rank,” Gideon observed.

  It’s easy to see when someone is doing something effortlessly, even if you can’t pick up all the techniques applied. I don’t want to develop bad habits by adding deliberate mistakes.

  ? ? ? ? ? ?

  Tingeth’s PoV - Gehenna

  A nearby volcano bubbled, sending lava and chunks of rock hissing through the air overhead, yet within the protective area of her audience chamber, Tingeth remained unaffected by the environment.

  The silvery chains draped across her alabaster skin jingled as she shifted position on her throne. Her nails bit into the arm of her throne as she considered the disgusting wretch before her. Half of Sargel’s face was gone, scar tissue and burns whitened his eyes, and pitted wounds across his scales left the soft flesh within exposed. Among the breaches were long jagged cracks across his dark green scales where acid had eaten at the flesh beneath.

  “I summon you to report on your preparations, and you appear like this?” Tingeth spat. “Do you think me amused?”

  “Regardless of my form, the same wounds manifest.”

  “How did you get them?”

  “Amdirlain,” Sargel spat.

  Through the protections she’d put in place for the meeting, she suddenly felt the upstart regard them both.

  “Time keeps on ticking. The offer will soon expire,” Amdirlain’s warm soprano laughed mockingly, and the observation cut off.

  Blood mingled with Sargel’s spittle. “She’s insane.”

  “That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t put such terror in your words. Your very emotions added power to her name and grabbed her attention.”

  He regarded her with a reptilian coldness he’d never dared before. “You will not beat her, no matter the harm you inflict.”

  “Explain.”

  “I could feel the pain and terror I had hooked into her mind, yet she simply continued fighting.”

  Tingeth rolled her eyes dismissively. “Some beings are simply better at handling pain.”

  “Not like this; there was a wrongness to her reactions.”

  “A wrongness! That is rich coming from you,” Tingeth jabbed a finger at his disgusting form. “Do I have to drag an explanation out of you with hooks?”

  “I know how beings should react in pain and terror. I’ve tormented trillions, and I say her mind is wrong. It’s a warped and twisted thing. I ripped and incinerated her flesh, yet she didn’t flinch from battle. Screaming terrors ate at her thoughts, and they sank in, tearing their way deeper, yet she didn’t flee.”

  Tingeth dipped her hand down beside her thigh to dig her nails into the Mortal Soul serving as her pillow, and an ignored scream split the air. “You describe a berserker, or one immune to pain.”

  Sargel shook his head adamantly. “I know what both feel like. She’s warped, insane. Couldn’t you hear it in the laughter just then? I sensed the emotions and pain resonating in her; she wasn’t immune, nor simply tenacious beyond comprehension. The agonies I inflicted received a reaction from someone handling a familiar weapon. If you put her under your heel, she will take your leg. The more suffering you inflict, the more she’ll consume of it, and you; she will put things between you into balance.”

  “You left yourself vulnerable and paid the price. Put effort into your healing. I find you disgusting.”

  He waved a hand at his face. “These aren’t healable. Along with my flesh, she consumed the very concept of parts of my body existing; if I shapeshift into an Elf, I’m missing the same pieces. These wounds bear none of the Chaos, but they are what an Eldritch might inflict.”

  Tingeth sneered. “You prattle on like a terrified old woman.”

  “I care nothing for your mockery. Have you considered that if she is the Songbird, what the Titan will do to the one who destroys or enslaves his daughter?”

  “The realm has rules even he will not break.”

  “I want nothing further to do with attacking her,” Sargel vehemently shook his head, as the truncated length of his tail broke stones.

  “You know what I’ll do to your faithful,” Tingeth growled. “You’ve given me nothing.”

  “Agree that you and your remaining allies will leave my faithful alone, and I’ll trade you information. Let us simply part ways in this effort.”

  “It ?better be something good,” Tingeth hissed.

  “First, I want it in writing that you, your allies and the worshippers will play no part in even minor retaliations against mine. In return, I’ll give you something that will change your plans.”

  Tingeth kept her expression composed while they haggled and finally got a trapped contract past him. Her copy vanished into a secure location the moment his blood was on it.

  “She’s not a goddess; she’s a Primordial. Though she hid much from me, I could feel wisps of Primordial essence in the strange white phoenixes that punched into me. Most of those wounds healed.”

  Sargel vanished, even as the words drove an uneasy chill into Tingeth’s core.

  Lilith said nothing about Amdirlain being a Primordial. Then again, most of my questions pertained to the chains binding the Kyton’s Great Mother.

  The lure of casting Nüwa from the realm stirred a fierce desire that rose through Tingeth’s core. The memory of seeing the red-chained Kyton outside her father’s chamber had Tingeth licking her lips.

  I want them all to serve me. They’ll be mine, just like the Songbird. I’ll cage her so she sings for me alone. One day, I’ll control the lower planes, and then we’ll see about the realm.