AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 232 - Let's pretend
🕑 Added 2022-09-16 14:29:09 +0000 UTCAmdirlain’s PoV - Culerzic
Amdirlain wasn’t sure how many times she’d traced the fey tree’s complex symphony when she finally released the memory. After focusing Resonance on such beauty, it left her sensitive to the biting sounds of the Abyss’ vile rage. Shuddering in disgust, Amdirlain opened her eyes and found Torm hadn’t even moved.
“Not going to do some training?” Amdirlain whispered, struggling to pull Resonance back under tight control.
“I was giving you a moment to settle before I started,” replied Torm. “Are you okay?”
Amdirlain blinked in confusion. “It felt like I’d been in the Soulscape for over an hour. Okay is relative.”
“You closed your eyes a few minutes ago,” Torm replied before he knelt facing her. “What did you find there?”
“Orhêthurin seems to be gone, well not gone, because she’d never been separate rather mingled with my Soul,” replied Amdirlain, only to laugh in grim amusement. “Does it count as mine when it was hers for billions of years?”
“It's certainly in your care now, so it's your Soul,” advised Torm. “Did you learn more about the Soulscape or your past?”
Amdirlain shifted uncomfortably, considering what she’d learnt. “The Soulscape reacts more like a Mind Palace now, with my will able to influence its appearance—though I have to watch out for stray thoughts. There was a presence there that looked like Orhêthurin, but she said that my perceptions filter the memories in the Soul. Unlike the song to allow others to access past life memories, I’ll also get the emotional pain.”
When Torm grimaced, Amdirlain nodded and pushed aside all consideration of how long Orhêthurin had endured the vines.
“Focus on just the memories you need for now to avoid lingering pain,” suggested Torm, having caught the wariness in her expression.
A strained smile twisted Amdirlain’s smile face before she managed to relax fractionally. “That and use Ellniya’s methods to disassemble the pain of what I retrieve. Though, a painful memory let me get something calmer from earlier in her life.”
“Sometimes it's best to work around a problem rather than hitting it head-on,” teased Torm, with the slightest twitch of a smile.
“Gosh, you and Erwarth want me to be subtle. How will I ever manage it?” asked Amdirlain.
Torm groaned at her sarcastic tone. “The final decision is always with you. Getting back to your experience with your Soulscape, communing with the Yggdrasil is apparently like that, though I never had the need. Those accounts I’ve read said the person saw their face reflected in exposed sap or the pools of water between its roots, and heard their voice on the wind. It's said it does so to avoid its awareness obliterating the sanity of those seeking its knowledge.”
“I guess ingesting billions of years of memories would be one way to get your brain scrambled,” allowed Amdirlain.
“At least it doesn’t take as long to re-experience the memory as you had believed,” consoled Torm.
Giving a huff, Amdirlain grumbled. “That’s not comforting. I don’t want to be a voyeur of anyone’s pain. Though, let me see if one memory helped.”
Rising, Amdirlain pulled a kopis out of Inventory and directly into her hand before her stance to copy part of the memory she’d recovered. The difference in the blade and her own body required a few attempts before the attack felt even close to right. Relaxing into the blade’s motions, she continued and tried a slashing strike; though that first strike felt awkward, Amdirlain sensed the ways it was off balance. Repeating the attack, she experimented with shifting the strike angle and her stance, slowly finding the sweet spot for each motion. Working through the gradual corrections took over an hour, but finally, when her body moved smoothly, a notification arrived.
[Partial memory synergy achieved < 0.001%
Sword [B](16) -> [B] (20)]
The notification came with a rush of awareness, and Amdirlain shifted her position to practise the stab again. Though there wasn’t another notification, she let the same sensation of awkwardness focus her attention on what needed correction. After shifting her footing, plus a half dozen other tweaks in posture, she finally achieved the same unhindered sensation.
“Looks like I have another cheat power,” stated Amdirlain.
Though Torm gave her a teasing smile, he stayed mute, and Amdirlain fixed him with a flat look.
“You got something to say?”
Wiping away the smile, Torm nodded towards the blade she held. “How many hours do you think Orhêthurin spent practising with the kopis, given her lifespan?”
“I followed a memory where she seemed barely a teenager, and she’d practised until her muscles wanted to give out, then pushed further,” replied Amdirlain. “Millions upon millions of hours.”
“Then it isn’t so much a cheat power as refreshing skills you’ve already spent the time learning,” commented Torm. “Promoted petitioners keep lots of the skills that they had in life. Gaps only come if they’ve lost extensive memories travelling through the Astral Plane and the Outlands. So actually, you're behind since you need to reconnect to the skills.”
“Then what made you so amused?”
“You seemed pleased about having a cheat power, even though you don’t cheat,” clarified Torm.
“Analysis, gaining affinities, Energy Drain, and a bunch of other stuff seem like cheat powers to me,” countered Amdirlain. “And please, seriously, I cheat all the time. If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying hard enough.”
“Everyone is different. I have many powers from being a Planetar that I can use at will. Does that mean I’m cheating?” asked Torm. “Or is it more that this appeals to your sense of humour to see yourself as one of those ‘ise’ something or other?”
“Isekai’d. Guess I’m not really since I was from here and came back via a curse, not a summoning.”
“That means you were Isekai’d into your old world,” teased Torm.
“Nah, that only counts if you have memories of your previous life when you’re reincarnated,” Amdirlain smugly protested. Ignoring Torm’s snort, Amdirlain brows furrowed into a frown. “I should have mentioned that Sírdhem’s instruction unlocked Sabre, and I’ve unlocked Kopis, which immediately combined into Sword. I hope it won’t cause problems for learning to mimic the sisters.”
“Combining skills happens. There are a couple more axe styles I’ll teach you, and you’ll find they’ll combine,” advised Torm. “Didn’t you say most of the former Lómë had variations like Sword-Legend?”
“Point, but I still should check with Sírdhem,” allowed Amdirlain.
“Was Dagger the other one, or did you get Short Blade?”
“Dagger, why do you ask?”
“Just curious. From what I know, that’ll get absorbed into Short Blade if you train with bladed weapons shorter than your forearm,” explained Torm. “Though it's odd the two skills combined so soon, normally it takes a higher proficiency before the individual learnings merge.”
Amdirlain gave an exaggerated grin. “Perhaps because of my cheater memories.”
“No longer worried about her erasing you as a person?” asked Torm.
“Good news, in that space at least. If what I learnt is true, Orhêthurin won’t emerge and override me. The bad news is I might not recover her powers and skills in an unflawed state if my foundations are flawed—like attracts like—and all that.”
“So instead, you're again worried that it all depends on you?” asked Torm carefully. “Remember, you have others willing to help you figure out a path forward for whatever you need to do. Some even have experience in the skills and powers you want to learn. How do you know Orhêthurin did everything the right way? After all, you said she messed up socially.”
“Still makes me feel like I want to buzz out of my skin at present,” grumbled Amdirlain.
“I remember you telling others they only worry about doing their best. Since you’ve so much energy, obviously you need to be practising,” countered Torm.
“Since you need to practise as well, how about we combine them? I’ll use True Song to create targets of various materials. You hit them with spells, and I’ll try to sing whatever spells you use.”
At Torm’s nod, Amdirlain teleported them to the largest Spell chamber she’d established wards around presently. It took several attempts to set up a few free-standing targets, but the notification she got made sense when she did.
[True Song Composition [B] (10->11)]
Though the cut-out figures didn’t qualify her for crafting experience, it was enough that letting her intent shape the music helped a critical Skill. Repeating the song, Amdirlain followed her instinct to strengthen notes and found it changed the number of figures created. Torm waited while she continued to fill the centre of the room.
When she was done, Torm walked around the chamber, examining the thin wooden Dretch figures, remaining up with an angled brace behind them. “Interesting targets; these aren’t what I had expected.”
“You can start us off,” prompted Amdirlain and motioned Torm to join her.
He didn’t delay further and, reappearing beside Amdirlain, he immediately unleashed a Fire Bolt upon the closest target. Catching at the energetic notes, Amdirlain copied them and sent a second bolt through the same figure. The combination of hits had set the wood ablaze, and Torm smacked it with a Water Bolt that put the fires out and shattered the panel. With the top bouncing off the floor, Amdirlain settled for sending the base hurtling away from them with her sung version.
They continued alternating through the combat spells Torm had learnt, and Amdirlain replaced the targets as needed. Though creating more Dretch figures didn’t provide further gains, shifting to different targets and other materials helped her progress through the session. After a fireball obliterated a chunk of targets, Torm signalled for a rest.
Amdirlain copied the surging music and shattered the rest. “Tapping out already?”
“Not all of us possess your bottomless mana reserves.”
“Not bottomless; you’re just still working on yours. If you don’t want to attract attention killing in the Abyss, you could also hop out to help Sage’s projects or Cemna’s cities,” offered Amdirlain.
“I’d prefer to be close by in case you need help. Plus, how is it fair for me to flit between planes when you’re locked here?” asked Torm. “You seem pleased by something?”
“True Song Composition went up, so creating materials in alternative forms helps that grow,” answered Amdirlain. “I started with copying Psi techniques and a few spells. Working through materials and creating new objects will help push that skill, and Orhêthurin wrote the songs to help choirs sing stars into existence. I remember her adjusting the conductor’s notes of her music because the first sun they created burned too bright.”
“Where did the knowledge of True Song come from if the Titan’s first singer wasn’t around?”
“She left basic knowledge implanted and memory crystals about the various skills they needed. Though some were more interested in some powers or skills than others,” answered Amdirlain. “I remember they weren’t True Song crystals, so all those would be long gone now.”
“If you can remember those crystals, exploring that might help you remember their contents,” suggested Torm.
“I remember we each had a pouch of them, so individuals could learn what they wanted when they took the time. If anyone decided they weren’t interested, nothing forced us to study,” stated Amdirlain. “There was a crater filled with fey fruit trees, and beyond that, an untamed planet with a stable ecosystem. It gave everyone the choice of helping the Titan’s work, or using what knowledge appealed to make a life for themselves.”
“Ignore the realm’s creator and just wander on their way—I can’t see that happening,” commented Torm and halted at a slight head twitch from Amdirlain.
Though she already talked about it more than she’d considered safe, Amdirlain explained. “It did, and even those that worked weren’t consistent. Like all groups, some were more serious about it than others or interested only in certain aspects. That memory of the sun’s birth included a group of Lómë who were only interested in the barrier that protected the other choirs.”
“What else do you remember?”
Amdirlain laughed. “Not enough. Let's head over to the circle chamber. We can spar a bit there before my next lesson.”
“Have you spoken with Sarah?” asked Torm.
“A few messages, she’s caught in a catch-22. She wants to be helping me, but her Mantle fits her too well,” sighed Amdirlain. “The eternal oath part is the kicker. Her teacher’s Precognition screamed about the risk when Sarah discussed passing it to an Erakkö. So Sarah’s focusing on progress to avoid its effect weakening her, but the stronger she gets, the better it fits her.”
“So the Abyss goes too far against her Mantle to risk in-person contact?”
“Yeah, even through a Gate like Ebusuku did. This place goes so far against all her Mantle’s roles. Sarah would have preferred to be just a Dragon rather than how she is now,” Amdirlain replied. “To me, I’m glad that she’s out of Hell and enjoying Mechanus. That is such a relief that I can’t put it in words.”
“Let's get in some more training; sparring with or without weapons?”
“Without; we can spar in the circular chamber; then—whenever Sírdhem’s ready—she can start your lesson.”
While they sparred, Amdirlain listened to his song, continually dancing around Torm’s strikes and kicks, even though she could see refinements in his technique. In the hours before Sírdhem showed up, the sparring helped them work out at least some mutual frustration with the aborted rescue. The speed of their exchanges caused Amdirlain’s mind to race, and she tossed together new plans as the tension lifted.
When Sírdhem’s Gate closed, Amdirlain stepped back, making it clear she was disengaging from the bout. Once Torm followed suit, they exchanged bows and turned towards Sírdhem.
“Change of plans,” stated Amdirlain, and caused Sírdhem’s eyes to narrow in suspicion while the distress ringing through her song carried vivid images of smirking sisters.
“Wow, why did you think I’d just returned to my plan to infiltrate?”
“The way you proclaimed plans had changed,” huffed Sírdhem.
“I need two—maybe—teachers to spread things out. That’s what the change of plans is, not infiltration,” explained Amdirlain, and Sírdhem visibly relaxed. “I know you find the abyssal energies unpleasant.”
“What do you need, oh mighty and great one?” asked Sírdhem sarcastically. “Now that I have my heart back in my chest.”
“Torm, up to you if you keep working with the cell. I'm not sure I'll need to go above ground to avoid going stir-crazy if I use that memory I found. It felt so real it was better experiencing it than spending time above ground here. I just have to watch out not to leave my Resonance active when I release it,” said Amdirlain.
“It does matter, and I’ll stay as safe as I can,” replied Torm and, pushing her worries aside, Amdirlain told herself to respect his decision.
“You can still let me know if you need help with anything in particular. I need to push these lessons harder, but I also want separate lessons in stealth, tactics, and general acting. I have Protean, but I use it for a fraction of its capabilities. The more I stretch its capacity, the faster it will heal me, keeping me alive and letting me recover from using True Song. I want the capability to pass confidently as anything, considering I can get better at yanking knowledge out of a mind.”
“What about your True Song practice?” asked Sírdhem.
“I’ll be working on that one-third of each day by myself. For that, I need samples of materials, starting with every element I don’t already have in my hide-out, along with compounds, alloys, solutions, whatever folks can somehow safely bring to me,” stated Amdirlain and saw Sírdhem catch on. “Yeah, I’m going to learn the song of every material I can; creating materials in various forms will stretch my True Song and Composition skills. I want to push as hard as possible to develop my foundations, not just spikes in particular capabilities.”
“If we can’t bring a material to you safely?” asked Sírdhem.
“You’ll figure out a way, I’m sure,” Amdirlain assured her with a broad smile.
Torm gave a puzzled frown. “Why are you suddenly so hyped up?”
“To paraphrase an interesting statement: I realised I’m not trapped here with them, they’re trapped here with me. For most demons out there, this is their only Home Plane. Everyway I can push my skills up makes me that much more dangerous for them to face, either now or once I’m no longer locked. Wherever the redemption path takes me, I want to pursue it.”
“If you’re going to impersonate demons, what do you plan to do about the abyssal heat?”
“Once I’ve learnt enough, I’m pretty sure I can construct one of Isa’s concealment songs to project the amount of Abyssal heat I need. The composition Skill will be the key to that; Isa said it helped with structuring and changing songs.”
Sírdhem and Torm exchanged glances, and Amdirlain laughed when she heard they were happy to go with whatever kept her busy and safe.
“Yeah, nosey one,” grumbled Sírdhem. “Let’s get started then; assume the form, and we’ll resume where we left off.”
“I don't always need to listen to your song. Your mind screamed no earlier, and the look you exchanged with Torm, dead giveaway,” countered Amdirlain.
Torm teleported away, and Amdirlain shifted back to the Sisterhood form she’d created. Her amused smile twisted into Naz’rilca’s sneer, and Sírdhem nodded. When the sabre came out of its sheath, far smoother than the last session, Sírdhem signalled her to pause.
“What did you do to improve so fast?”
“Tried out the kopis a bit; no sooner did I unlock the Skill, then skills merged into Sword,” answered Amdirlain. “Torm thinks it should have taken longer.”
“Skill merges normally don’t happen until at least journeyman rank,” noted Sírdhem. “Still, it won’t cause an issue; many of them already had the Sword Skill before being recruited. So keep going. In other sessions we’ll ensure separate time for the kopis, that might push Sword along faster.”
Hours of drills comprised drawing and sheathing, basic attacks, with the only break allowed covered simply walking as a sister. The alluring glide that Torm had commented on needed work to change into a predator’s strut. The process to Amdirlain felt like my fair lady in reverse, a large serving of bad habits with a teaspoon of a sadist in the mix.
The planning session where Ebusuku had watched the sisters had been the most time Amdirlain had to watch the sisters. Her memories provided precise details from that room and let her quickly duplicate some mannerisms Sírdhem wanted her to adopt. Towards the end of the session, Sírdhem's discomfort began to spike, and Amdirlain listened closer.
The pain she heard had her signalling Sírdhem to halt. “This isn’t comfortable for you. How about you teach me to fight as one? Whoever handles the acting lessons can manage the mannerisms and location briefings.”
“I can do it,” objected Sírdhem, but Amdirlain could hear the pain Sírdhem held at bay starting to dig in.
“Yes, but you don’t need to,” stated Amdirlain and stepped forward to hug Sírdhem. “I didn’t get myself into a better state so I could inflict pain on someone else; not happening.”
“You’re worried about my mental pain, but have you spoken to your mind healer again?”
“Not as yet,” admitted Amdirlain.
Sírdhem gave her an edged smile. “Still worried about her winter queen?”
“Absolutely.”
Amdirlain heard the message spells Sírdhem sent off and returned to her practice to give her time to organise.
“They’re arranging a list of materials to ensure we don’t double up. We’ll get you a copy of the list while we’re doing the gathering and you can double-check it.”
“Nice,” Amdirlain said and smiled at Sírdhem.
“I’ve all my memories of my last life as Lómë, and I’ll say I never heard of anyone learning True Song this way.”
“How did you learn?”
“From my parents. They taught me the songs they knew by heart or provided songbooks,” replied Sírdhem. “Which is an issue, since there aren’t copies of the Anar songbooks unless they’re songs that needed both their parts and ours. Isa had to learn many songs by ear, from memory crystals.”
“She mentioned Roher was being inventive in teaching her,” acknowledged Amdirlain. “With Isa busy linking grottos, I’ll have to learn by gaining control of fundamental natural songs, then spells.”
“Going to the source material,” observed Sírdhem with a perfectly straight face that belied the relaxed amusement within. “While Isa jumped onto spells.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
“Indeed. I know, you know, I know,” laughed Sírdhem.
Taking in the tight notes evaporating from Sírdhem, Amdirlain nodded. “See, you’re feeling better already, aren’t you?”
“Yes, mother,” Sírdhem mock grumbled. “You know I’m older, right?”
“So? We all can put blinkers on and ignore what others can see. I’m a prime example of that,” snorted Amdirlain before returning to her practice.
When Sírdhem called a halt, the Gate she opened didn’t show one of the solars; instead, a nervous Ilya waited on a grotto’s edge. Though she wore an elven form that matched Amdirlain’s height, Ilya’s pure white skin with a blue swirling pattern made it clear who was waiting even without listening to her song. Her loose pants and top were in a feminine style similar to those Amdirlain had seen Roher wearing.
Amdirlain spotted when Ilya’s gaze touched on the silver circle, determination all that contained her spiking fear. Not sure what to expect, Amdirlain waited for Ilya to say something, and caught Sírdhem’s prompting gesture.
“I understand you are looking for someone to instruct you about Hell and its succubi,” Ilya stated.
Amdirlain looked between them in frustration. “Is everyone a masochist?”
“Pot, kettle, black,” chirped Sírdhem.
“I know more about Hell than anyone you can trust to help you,” declared Ilya, and stepped through the Gate. “You aren’t the only one that has things to work past. I can teach you for a while each day, and work to get my fear under control. I’ll immediately let you know if I need to cut a session short, and I’ll be honest if I need to skip a day.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Fuck no,” laughed Ilya nervously. “But I need to face my fears to heal them, so it's healing pain, not just digging at a wound. I helped Isa get her weapon skills to Senior Master rank, and I can help you do the same. Your solars and the Lómë are so far beyond that, it’s hard to see your progress sparring with them. The sisters have a way of fighting, but so do devils, and you’ll need to learn to pass.”
"Did Sírdhem warn you I just declined her Sisterhood lessons?"
"Listen to my song. You tell me if you think this is about enjoying the pain or needing to heal?" asked Ilya.
The impressions Amdirlain caught weren't the poisonous memories that dug at Sírdhem, but indeed the need to get better. Isa's work in the tunnels constantly left Ilya behind, and Ilya's desire focused on being beside her as a partner, not a liability.
Amdirlain extended a hand but didn’t move closer. “Thank you.”
Ilya took another shaky step forward before she pulled herself together. She crossed the remaining distance with quick strides and clasped Amdirlain’s hand. “I’m so glad you didn’t say deal.”
“I won’t ask what happened,” said Amdirlain.
“Thank you,” Ilya replied and took in a calming breath. “For everything, especially since I deserved to be told to fuck off.”
“You’ve apologised a few times. Please stop,” huffed Amdirlain.
“Maybe, but it's my choice,” said Ilya, with a wink.
