AbyssalRoadTrip
patreon
Abyssal Road Trip - 345 - Curtain call
🕑 Added 2023-10-14 07:50:09 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Material Plane - Qil Tris - Year 4370 (Local calendar)
The capital was a sea of confusion but, detecting no troops firing on civilians, Amdirlain left them to sort out their mess. Five cities of confusion with no bloodshed later, she came on a scene that dashed her growing hopes. Finding troops firing on a crowd that included children hemmed in with nowhere to run, she put a dome over the civilians. While their projector bolts splattered harmlessly against it, Amdirlain put another barrier behind the troops. With them secured, she transported the living civilians away, only to be confronted by the sight of the ground littered with the charred bodies of the slain and children beneath those of sheltering adults.
Amdirlain clenched her fists and sent a crystal to create a receiving station with regeneration fields. The sight of the hundreds of dead had her intent snap to the soldier’s commander before she forced herself to stop. Methodically, she put barriers along the building’s facades to ensure they were penned in from all sides. A mass version of Raise Dead restored the fallen to life; some screamed or cried in fear, and hands frantically clutched at now sealed wounds.
Some troops fired at the confused civilians as the worst injuries were undone, and they returned from the dead, but their follow-up shots deflected off the barrier. Done with their behaviour, she shared with those who had fired the memories of pain she took from the slain. Their screams provoked more tears from the children, and Amdirlain sent them and the adults to join their families.
After she double-checked all the barriers, she grabbed the details from their minds about the orders issued. With it traced back to their local headquarters, she put them in an open-ended Time Stop. She appeared nearby and scoured minds until she found the commanding officer.
A dominating song had him issue orders to cancel all the attacks and then walk outside. As he stepped out for fresh air, the Major was suddenly standing on the lip of a skyrise before Amdirlain. His hand darted to the energy projector holster at his waist to encounter only leather and air. The projector’s remains were a cascade of dust down his leg.
“You wanted to have control of the city?”
“Who are you?” screamed the major, and Amdirlain swatted aside a hurriedly cast Spell.
Amdirlain's gaze bore into him, and her voice was a rasp of steel and ice. “I know no one ordered you to attack the civilians since the Patriarch’s announcement. So I want you to tell me how you can justify it?”
The major drew himself up and growled at her. “The Matriarch’s orders remain in place.”
“You want to attempt to justify your kill orders? What about the Patriarch’s broadcast?”
“The Matriarch’s will is all important. That imposter will not survive,” sneered the Major.
“I killed the Matriarch and stopped her from becoming undead,” whispered Amdirlain, and she showed him how the Matriarch had died.
As the major let loose a tirade, Amdirlain grabbed his jacket by the front seam and lifted him effortlessly. Dangling like a helpless child, she emptied his Mana pool and sealed his body to prevent it from ever absorbing Mana again. With that done, she threw him off the skyscraper, but he teleported level with its top just before he hit the ground. He repeatedly fell, blurring past floors, screaming the whole time. As friction tore at his clothing, Amdirlain put him slightly out of phase to make rescue extremely difficult and set a sound barrier around the loop. To avoid making things predictable for him, the end of the loop shifted randomly between five metres and two millimetres off ground level.
The Major’s screams grew more frantic when she added the death pains of the slain civilians to his mind. The rest of the day, she jumped between the local military facilities and checked each one to find and head off any similar orders. Fortunately, the groups she had to send to safety steadily reduced throughout the day and night.
Morning found her standing beside Malcineas in a room adjoining a conference room with commanders and regime bureaucrats.
“Dragged them out of the military command posts?” asked Amdirlain.
Malcineas jumped and spun towards her, only to exhale in relief. “Some warning, perhaps?”
“You’ve got a young heart,” replied Amdirlain as she took in Sarah’s protective equipment on him. “Seems like quite the conference.”
“Yes. I want to get them out of their comfortable zones and thinking,” explained Malcineas. “I heard only snippets of your activities.”
Amdirlain grimaced. “You’ve got some officers stuck in falling loops and a few cities I’ve done clean-ups in.”
“I’ve had some reports, but not what caused them to appear falling off skyscrapers suddenly,” admitted Malcineas.
“Issuing orders to fire on civilians after your broadcast,” replied Amdirlain. “While they’re slightly out of phase with the world, they’re not impossible to rescue. Likewise, a spectre could reach them first. Do you want them?”
“I figured they were involved in the mess you handled for us. My major concern is the well-being of those from empty cities and the other disappearances. Have they got ample food and supplies? Is there anything we should gather for them?” enquired Malcineas, his theme still seeming too frail for the role he’d taken on.
“They’ve been fed, sheltered, and sometimes clothed. The other disappearances only occurred because the military directly threatened or had already attacked. I’ve provided the civilians with mechanisms to return to this world if they want, but I won’t force them. Their havens have resources enough that they can live a comfortable yet challenging life away from the ghost caverns and the threat of spectres.”
“I’m glad they are safe, thank you. Will the officers continue to fall?” asked Malcineas, his tail coiled in curiosity. “You said they were in a loop.”
Amdirlain explained what she’d done before she showed Malcineas images of her falling captives and the scenes of death they’d caused.
Malcineas’ gaze blazed momentarily, but his lips thinned, and he nodded. “Let’s not feed the undead; they should stand trial.”
A short melody had eleven messy individuals suspended in the room, and Amdirlain cleaned them up before she turned them solid again. Their wailing and gibbering filled the air, and the door to the conference room quickly burst open. As the military staff clamoured for an answer, Amdirlain handed Malcineas a token to release them from the barrier.
“You just have to focus on freeing them. That’ll also remove the Time Stop and barrier from around the troops, but you might want to have a senior officer on hand.”
Taking in the arrogant melodies of the bureaucrats and military personnel, she used the plinth’s judgemental song. She stopped before their themes could fray—the barest millisecond of insight. It was enough to let them experience a brief taste of the pain and misery they’d inflicted on the nation’s people.
“What happened to them?” breathed Malcineas, looking at the now sobbing officials.
“I let them experience a fraction of the pain they’ve caused others. If they’d been innocent, nothing would have happened to them," replied Amdirlain. “Hopefully, you find them eager to help now; some were convinced they could control you. Let them know I will check back on them, and I’ll see they pay in other ways if they misbehave.”
Amdirlain vanished and, in her usual paranoia, left an erratic trail of hops behind her. When she appeared in the apartment, Kadaklan and Sarah were both there, though Kadaklan was in his room. Sarah sat watching a newscaster reporting on the chaos along the border. Before she could move, Amdirlain sat beside her and put her head on Sarah’s lap to watch the receiver. Looking down in surprise, Sarah set the remote aside and stroked Amdirlain’s hair.
“We could just leave,” proposed Kadaklan when he came out and found them still watching the news.
Sarah tapped her nose and pointed to Kadaklan. “I think we should as well. Just leave it as one of the world’s great mysteries.”
“They’d hike to the south pole trying to find the Blackcliff pride,” objected Amdirlain, but she didn’t shift position.
“And?” laughed Sarah. “Venturing into the unknown might be good for them.”
“Leave a big pillar and inscribe it to say Blackcliff pride has gone beyond the stars,” suggested Kadaklan.
Snorting, Sarah nodded happily.
“We can’t just vanish,” rebuffed Amdirlain. “I’m okay with heading off, but only if we tidy things properly. I can imagine the confusion and interviews people would endure if we did. Not to mention the uncertainty they’d endure since, with all the drama, they might think a surviving Matriarch hit team killed us.”
Kadaklan sat across from them but didn’t obstruct Amdirlain’s view of the receiver. “We can, but you’d prefer us not to and your reasons are valid. If we’re being polite, we should tell the law keepers and your advocates for your investment funds. I’ll tell my staff and distribute the shares in the lab’s business.”
“I’ve got a few Artificer workshops I should update on projects,” added Sarah.
“How long do you need to finish preparations?” asked Kadaklan.
“A few days or weeks to put the anchor points in for all the training facilities. I’ve got melodies to modify surveyors to scan for new ghost caverns and implant new training complex anchor points near them,” replied Amdirlain. “It’ll alert me through a memory crystal, but I might leave that with Roher in case I’m busy. I’ll set the initial demi-planes up so any singer can link them.”
“That includes some cities whose political systems you’re not in favour of,” noted Kadaklan.
“After the mess with the Matriarch, the locals need to clean up their own messes. I don’t think I made anything better; I just escalated things and changed the goal posts,” huffed Amdirlain. “The country is still filled with brain-washed fanatics in a barely restrained state.”
“Each person must find their own Dao. Hopefully, the afflicted will find a way to clear their thoughts,” argued Kadaklan.
Sarah tweaked Amdirlain’s ear. “Plan for two weeks?”
“I’ll be ready to go before then,” confirmed Amdiralin. “Might record a partial set depending on how many songs Jal’krin has lined up. Let him have the royalties.”
“Generous,” murmured Sarah.
“Depending on what we say before we leave, he might need compensation for the headaches,” replied Amdirlain.
Kadaklan chuckled. “At least it would be compensation for the years he considered you 'gaol bait', as Sarah says.”
“All those poor adult males who thought they were pining over a female who was not yet of a decent age,” Sarah said with a smirk.
Amdirlain sat up to a grumble of protest from Sarah, and her tail swished around into her hands before she pouted up at Sarah. “You’re so mean to me.”
“Call your little composer and see what he’s got lined up, then figure out how to close everything you can off,” instructed Sarah.
A note to Jal’krin and a quick reply produced a mutter from Amdirlain. “He’s got twenty ready for me to look at already; he mustn’t have slept.”
“You’re his muse,” chirped Sarah.
“I’ll pick the lyrics up and think about them while I set up more demi-planes,” announced Amdirlain before she vanished.
Appearing outside Jal’krin’s apartment, she pressed the rune beside the door and heard the chimes echo.
“That was quick,” said Jal’krin, and he frowned. “What’s with the upscale military look?”
Amdirlain looked down at the dark green of the shadow vines’ clothing and shrugged. “I’m just trying to blend in.”
“Ha, ha; come on in,” said Jal’krin, waving her inside the echoing apartment.
“You need to get more furnishings,” commented Amdirlain.
Jal’krin closed the door and waved her forward. “You said that last time, never mind this place. Listen to the sample beats and have a run-through of the lyrics. I’m not sure we need some of the ones attacking the Matriarch now. I can adjust them to suit political parasites in general.”
The door to his workroom was open, and she could feel the lingering energy in the arcane discs he usually used for composition. “Did you rest at all lately?”
“Yes. You know me well enough that you’d be telling me to sleep, not asking, if I hadn’t,” argued Jal’krin.
“Yeah, but twenty songs,” protested Amdiralin.
Jal’krin grumbled. “It’s your influence. My brain’s been running on overdrive since you left. I haven’t needed to work all hours; things have just flowed. When you do retire, I will miss your brainstorming sessions.”
Exhaling slowly, Amdirlain gave him a nod. “Don’t tell Jan’era yet, but I will head home shortly. I’ll record a set of these and leave you the royalties.”
Jal’krin’s eye bugged out. “Hold up, repeat yourself, please? Why are you leaving me the royalties? Don’t they go into that investment thing you set up? I know Jan’era was on about some scholarship and artist sponsorship fund.”
“This is my thank you. You can do what you like with it, but invest it just in case you need the money in years to come,” advised Amdirlain. “I’ll get a feel for these while I sort out other things. I’ll ask Jan’era for a studio day next week.”
“You’re going?” murmured Jal’krin.
“Yeah,” nodded Amdirlain.
Jal’krin stood up and, looming over her, wrapped his arms around her. “Thanks for nearly everything.”
“Nearly?” asked Amdirlain, and she gently hugged him back.
“Nearly,” confirmed Jal’krin. “Jul’iane will drive everyone crazy not having you to spar with; she’s been climbing the walls this week.”
“She’ll just have to get her students to improve enough that they can provide a better challenge,” rebutted Amdirlain, and she dug her fingers gently into his ribs, getting him to jump. “So, maestro, what music do you have?”
“Never anything perfect enough for you, but I hope you’ll find them fun,” replied Jal’krin with a sad smile.
“No time for sadness. Play your music, and let’s have fun poking at bad people,” insisted Amdirlain.
She’d originally intended to be there an hour, but it was nearly ten before she made it to the first demi-plane.
“He warned me maintaining relationships with mortals was tough,” murmured Amdirlain. “Should I even go back to Xaos?”
When she sang, the undertones of sadness in her voice painted the demi-plane’s sky a deep, sad red and the clouds that appeared bled the colour into the distant hills. Seeing the shade, she sent forth music silently but slower than earlier, not wanting to tint the memory of the day’s musical fun with sorrow. Burning off the energy that wanted to bubble through her voice, Amdirlain let her body move and danced to Jal’krin's music running through her mind.
One demi-plane after another, the rush of experience from their creation pushed her onwards. The deadline she’d set advanced with an unforgiving pace, and her only break was a brief stint of studio time. Having planned each song, Amdirlain recorded twelve in half a day. With Jan’era muttering about release dates and promotions, Amdirlain slipped away without fanfare.
Two weeks after the Matriarch’s death, the trio stood on a rocky field and watched the gleam of an approaching vehicle.
Cla’nes's limo drove slowly along the gravel road and stopped not far from them. Ssa’time hopped out from the driver’s seat wearing snug, ankle-length purple pants tucked in black boots and an off-the-shoulder top that blended with her auburn fur. The customary steel-hued ribbons secured her hair in scores of loose braids; some fell well past the middle of her back while others swayed back and forth across her chest. The vehicle’s external security devices were already in sync with the bodyguard’s bracelet. Time spent in the training complexes had pushed her classes into the early 50s; Amdirlain had never peeked into the details of her team.
The back door opened before Ssa’time got to it, and Amdirlain heard her huff in frustration. “It might not have been clear.”
Sliding out of the back door, Cla’nes gave a lithe stretch that exhibited her well-formed body. It was the first time Amdirlain had seen her out in the planet’s yellow sunlight; it caused silver highlights to sparkle among her white fur. Her white off-the-shoulder top and pants mirrored Ssa’time's attire, except it matched Cla’nes’s fur so well she appeared naked. An outcome Amdirlain imagined was likely as intentional as Cla’nes had selected the apparel for them both. Next to Ssa’time’s muscular figure, Cla’nes’s well-formed body seemed illicitly enticing.
Jan’era had already hopped out the opposite side and held a hand up to shade her eyes from the afternoon sunlight. She was dressed in her practice business attire, a loose cream blouse tucked into black business pants and flats that let her claws grip. As the wind stirred, she rested a hand atop her head. Her pink ear twitched in time to the dancing breeze’s attention, which caused the deep red fur coating her muzzle and arms to ruffle.
“All three of you, in the same place. Are we safe? The last time this occurred, the Matriarch’s goons attacked the studio,” noted Jan’era before she motioned to Cla’nes and Ssa’time. “Though maybe I should ask why only the three of us? And in the middle of nowhere?”
“A twenty-minute trip out of the city is hardly the middle of nowhere. You came via the bypass to get here, so it’s easy to get back to the city,” replied Amdirlain.
“Might as well be nowhere,” replied Ssa’time.
Sarah smiled. “Technically, anywhere is always somewhere, and this somewhere is just a distance from any town. We need you to take some equipment with you when we’re done.”
Before they can ask, she waved to a nearby tripod with a caster and a metallic cube beside it, spitting memory crystals into a rapidly filling crate. Sarah set down carry cases for them nearby.
“Jan’era, since you know how to use a caster, would you look it over?” asked Amdirlain.
Her pink ear went still in one of the tells Amdirlain had learnt to signal her curiosity, and Jan’era stalked towards the device. After a brief examination, she frowned at the controls. “You’ve got runes for trace and transmit? Those aren’t typical on any caster. Trace is just for audio gear, and when you turn a caster on, it immediately starts transmitting.”
“The trace rune starts the unit recording. When you do that, and the unit’s turned on, everything visual and audio is recorded. Recording media go into the side slot,” explained Sarah, and she tapped the hatch on the caster’s side.
“You can’t get a visual trace to work with data plates,” objected Jan’era.
“Sarah worked it out,” corrected Amdirlain, and she motioned to the memory crystals cascading from the cube. “Though memory crystals hold far more than metal data plates.”
Cla’nes moved over and picked up a thumb-sized crystal. “Memory crystals?”
“If you have Mana, you can attune to them and inject memories directly. Or use them in a device like this,” Sarah said, tapping the caster. “Currently, that cube is creating crystals with sets of information pre-loaded. They have all the details of creating them and technical details for various uses. Examples would be visual and audio traces and the various arcane technologies that data plates fill. It also details the adjustments needed to record and retrieve more things from the existing data plates.”
“Why tell us?” asked Cla’nes. “Not that I don’t mind the chance to corner the market, but it’s not my usual avenue of influence.”
Jan’era nodded and motioned to Cla’nes. “You’d be more likely to know the people to seize the most from it, but it’s certainly not my area.”
“None of you are artificers, so you’ll have to involve someone. If you do something shady, I’m sure whoever you team up with will happily screw you over,” replied Sarah.
“Sarah’s a touch paranoid. We’re heading off. We hoped you would record a farewell for us,” explained Amdirlain.
Her ears twitching, Jan’era tilted her head. “Never mind the how. Another retirement? And heading off from here, why?”
Amdirlain smiled. “This time, I had better get going, especially since I’ve had to escalate things with the Matriarch the last couple of days.”
“We don’t want Am involved in more political situations,” laughed Sarah, and she patted Amdirlain. “Not that she wanted to clean it up.”
“I need to let people work out how to clean up their messes instead of overly meddling,” admitted Amdirlain. “I get into a mother-hen mode and then find I’m fighting off the urge to fix things.”
“You sang some songs. What did you have to do with the coup?” asked Ssa’time, holding back her braids from her face as the wind gusted harder.
Sarah smirked. “She started with the songs before she brought the Patriarch back to life, shifted people to safety, killed the Matriarch, and raised people from the dead along the way.”
“I put the gadgets in place to kill the Matriarch, but they were Sarah’s. Just as she stopped troops from opening fire on people with others, then used more to heal the civilians she’d saved,” added Amdirlain, motioning to Sarah.
Jan’era’s jaw had dropped before Sarah was through, and she finally gasped. “What?”
While Cla’nes nodded understandingly, Ssa’time still looked taken aback.
“The first evening she visited,” prompted Cla’nes.
“But...”
Cla’nes continued. “A few things more than you remember went on, but I know you remember lunging at Am when she flared her Charisma.”
“That’s not fair, to put that solely on Ssa’time; you did as well,” objected Amdirlain.
Rolling her eyes, Cla’nes huffed. “Yes, I did as well. Fortunately, you were older than sixteen.”
Jan’era’s gaze locked on Amdirlain. “What? You tricked us?”
Grimacing, Amdirlain spread her hands helplessly. “I had no experience with your species’ body language. I figured coming in as a late teen wouldn’t be too problematic. My apologies that things didn’t quite go according to plan, but some things went far better than I had hoped—and for more than just me. Hopefully you’ll find someone to sing the rest of the songs I commissioned Jal’krin to write; they’ve got more political commentary in them.”
“Species?“ gasped Jan'era.
Sarah laughed, and Amdirlain shooed her away.
“I was having problems with Femme Fatale. No one I knew had evolved it to something non-sexual, so I appreciated the help, Cla’nes,” said Amdirlain, and she handed Jan’era a few sheets of folded film. “Start the recording going; it’s all set up,” prompted Amdirlain, “Last of the legal stuff; I told the advocates I was heading off.”
Kadaklan smiled at Jan’era reassuringly. “We also dropped in to sign things with the law keepers so there wouldn’t be a missing person’s fuss this time.”
“Anyway, this will be your choice. The three of you can decide never to show this recording to anyone,” added Amdirlain. “You can even ignore the memory crystals.”
“Please don’t ignore the memory crystals,” grumbled Sarah, and she walked over to her position. “But given what we plan to say, disappearing the trace might be an idea. Also, I want the random sightings of Am to go on forever.”
“It’ll get labelled a conspiracy cover-up by some fans,” reassured Kadaklan, and he waved to the caster and started walking a distance from Sarah. “There isn’t anything you need to do for me. The staff now own the lab and have a solid foundation they can build on by refining the abilities I taught them.”
Amdirlain looked over Jan’era’s shoulder to confirm the display plate on the unit showed Sarah and Kadaklan in focus on either side of the screen.
“Don’t zoom in,” warned Amdirlain, and she reappeared at the midpoint between them. “I hope we’ve improved things between us.”
“The Ki comes from the life force within you. It’s not divine; it’s your own to help you find enlightenment or ruin depending on your life’s path,” stated Kadaklan. He transformed into his Phoenix form, nearly three metres tall, and his long tail feathers extended five. His feathers ranged from deep reds, oranges, and yellows with hints of blue before the yang flames licked across the rocky ground.
“And me exchanging Artificer knowledge,” added Sarah. Then she transformed into her Dragon form, though she kept her aura constrained. The caster screen still had her head in view, but the right side of her body was well out of scope.
“And me providing some entertainment between creating the training complexes,” added Amdirlain.
“The training complexes were yours?” gasped Jan’era.
Amdirlain nodded and smiled sadly. “I wish people would treat them with more caution. I’ve heard of too many injuries and some fatalities despite the warnings. More will appear around other cities in the weeks and months ahead; that’s all in motion and doesn’t need me present anymore. If new ghost caverns open, I set it up so that training complexes will open near them; just a few stages until they grow. I couldn’t set them up to help combat classes progress without danger, so please don’t treat them lightly.”
Cla’nes stepped forward, looking over Kadaklan’s plumage. “You said you were from the south?”
“Between us, our homes are far to the south, beyond visible stars and, for me, on different planes completely. We came because that cult was trying to gain power from beings worse than your old gods. It was a problem that your past had left you with no means to address. I came to help, and then my oath-sister and friend came to help me after fighting some of the more serious threats left me with wounds to heal.”
Amdirlain shifted briefly into J’s form before she changed into her Fallen form and grew until she was nearly six metres tall; the shadow vines shifted to keep her clad in dark green cloth. Her feathers had a blazing golden core and flickering red flames that seemed to add more soot to layer them. Even in the daylight, the golden glow from her eyes painted the ground before her in a bright light. Brushing her azure blue hair from her eyes, Amdirlain smiled. “I didn’t entirely invent my fur colour.”
“What are you?” breathed Ssa’time as Amdirlain pulled her Charisma back into control.
“I’m a singer, though I fibbed in that—I’m not a bard. Sorry.”
“Ha,” choked out Jan’era. “You were driving theorists nuts.”
Jan’era put her hand over her muzzle as if she couldn’t believe what she’d said.
Smiling, Amdirlain continued. “Nor did I start at the fifth level. So, sorry for that worry as well. My total levels are in the thousands, so let’s leave it at that. I sustained wounds at the Spellclash manor that night and needed a few days' rest. I hope you’ll continue to enjoy my music, as I enjoyed bringing a bit of joy with it, and while wordplay is involved, it’s all about Mortal concerns.”
“You’re not some deity?” asked Cla’nes, a question she already knew the answer to, having spoken of it before.
Amdirlain shook her head. “No, I’m not. However, just as people can be good or bad, so can gods. If your people ever run into beings in the service of gods on other planes, please keep that in mind. Judge them by their actions, their teachings, and what they ask of those who serve them.”
“My people don’t have gods as yours did,” advised Kadaklan, and he smiled ruefully at the trio’s sudden tension. “I’m not sharing anything about them other than to confirm their differences. They give examples and lessons but never ask anyone to wage wars.”
“Your gods didn’t just have your people killing each other. They also killed other species’ gods, which hurt those species badly,” offered Sarah. “The dwarves are still around, but I’ve found evidence that others died completely. If you contact those who survive, you might want to remember that in case there are grudges. We done?”
“I’ve already said more than perhaps I should have,” admitted Amdirlain.
Sarah huffed. “Your choice to tell them, their choice to share.”
Amdirlain opened a massive Gate to the Outlands far away from Xaos. Sarah turned and launched herself through it while Jan’era re-orientated the caster to show the valley site Amdirlain had focused it on. Kadaklan flew through next before Amdirlain waved and followed, closing the gate once she was clear. Not bothering to land, she transformed back to her Wood Elf form in mid-air.
Comments
Glenn Wright
I do have an idea in that space, but it needs to ferment a bit.
buca117
I would very much appreciate a revisit to this world's perspective at some point. Want to see the aftermath of all this, even if Amdirlain never actually revisits the place.
luda305
It's Elvis all over again.
