AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 186 - Warning
🕑 Added 2022-04-14 07:00:03 +0000 UTCEbusuku’s PoV - Outlands.
For whatever reasons the Domain has continued to expand away from Amdirlain’s overlook, instead of in all directions. Blue and golden lights streamed upwards through the trees behind me, and among the already towering buildings growing from the grasslands. Heedless of their beauty my attention stays on the Gate and the strange girl who doesn’t hesitate to step through into Limbo.
Visible through it is a black adamantine wall, with Githzerai monks stationed along its battlements intently peering our way. Though the distance was far enough away to not draw an immediate attack, I still half expected at any moment to need to pull her back through.
“Thanks Eb, I’ll make sure I return on schedule.” says Livia. She’s only floating in the void a moment before Limbo, reacting to her Willpower, has a narrow strip of land appear beneath her feet. “If you keep the Gate open, you might give things away she doesn’t want to share.”
“Fuck that. She’d want you safe. Wasn’t that your trump card?” I ask with a playful huff. Motioning to an entire group of returnees from Cemna—two scores of Sword Archons and Hound Archons, led by a Planetar. They’d all been pretending not to watch the argument, so they can pay the price of admission for their entertainment. The Planetar practically jumps when I stab a finger his way, and I motion them all towards the Gate. “Except for anyone needing healing, go with her, please. Know that she’s Amdirlain’s daughter. Come back to the Domain only after she’s safely inside the monastery.”
Before Livia has time to protest, they all Teleport through, and I let the Gate close to the sound of Torm’s laughter.
“The munchkin will make sure Amdirlain is alright.” Torm says after his laughter stills. “It will be good for them both, Eb.”
When I flex my wings and fix my attention on the young Celestial, he just roars with laughter. “You’re pushing your luck, Uncle Torm.”
“I’m proud she feels I’m worthy of that title,” he counters with a cheerful smile, still wearing the human form I’d seen him commonly wear.
“No Eb from anyone else. Only she and Amdirlain get away with that unless you want to pay the price in sparring to cover it.”
My grumbling retort only makes him laugh harder still.
It takes a few minutes for his laughter to calm, but eventually he smiles apologetically and looks up to meet my glare. “Sorry, the moment you realised who she was, you really had no chance of winning that argument.”
“Amdirlain said she needed time to heal properly,” I retort, not completely sure why he’d offer support for Livia but stay clear himself.
“They’ve had far less time together than they’d have liked. Amdirlain was always more cheerful with Livia nearby,” Torm states, before smiling as if he’s aware of what I’m thinking. “I’m still concerned my touch was causing her pain, and that’s not what she needs for healing. She sends me messages; just as well I don’t have a Wizard Class or you’d be scolding me for returning them.”
“Are you going to have someone smack the idiot?” I ask, wondering how Amdirlain will react to her little daughter’s sadness.
“Livia can read the auras of Mortal and Immortal alike, and she’d seen the stress in his aura. He wasn’t rude about it nor did he lash out, despite it being painful for him as well, so he still has all his teeth,“ Torm says, all amusement leaving his expression. “He was feeling his mortality, and yet Livia wants to keep pushing her abilities. Wanting to spend time with family, and perhaps even settle down isn’t an insult to her, but it’s a different path. That’s not a path I think she ever plans to take, and certainly not right now.”
“Voice of experience?”
“Yes. I had a family, and I remember being Mortal—pieces of it at least—the way wounds would ache in the cold no matter how well they’d healed. Losing friends who were just a little too slow, or unlucky on the day to stand in the wrong spot. Some days that can weigh heavily on you, and the urge to have a family grows to leave a legacy behind,” Torm replies, and sounds far too Mortal-minded himself.
His distracted state gives me the opening to shove him gently, and playfully scold him. “I sent her to talk to you because I thought you’d convince her not to go. Instead, between the pair of you, she came back in the mood to blackmail me.”
Another host of Sword Archons suddenly appear, their forms condensing from the light, ahead of an array of other Archons and Angels.
Ignoring my grumbles, Torm nods towards a handful of Planetars manifesting closer at hand from within the glow. “You’re going to have an issue getting them all an experience nitro booster, as Sidero calls it. After she helped that host the other day, she complained about experience thieves. How many Planetars do you have now?”
“Since this latest round began, Amdirlain now has twenty-nine new Planetars, and that’s merely this latest round,” offered Hook. “Sidero’s been fine before any information on why she grumbling?”
“Echo and I talked to her afterwards. She actually hit ninety-four in all her classes last moon. Now that progress is a lot slower, she’s getting worried someone will come looking before she’s free,” replies Torm, and I can only wince in sympathy.
Holding up a hand to stop Hook’s interjection, I consider options quickly. “I’ll arrange something for her. Farhad and I are pressing into some areas thick with dangerous undead on Cemna. She’ll get more experience there than bug-smashing.”
When Torm snorts in disbelief, I just fix him with an interrogating glare. “What’s that about?”
“Just the visual of you and Sidero fighting alongside each other, I’ll admit, was amusing,” Torm replies, and actually gives a full-throated laugh. “Sorry, you’d either work well today or it would drive you both crazy.”
“Regardless, I’ll see if she’ll try it; I might also bite my tongue and see if Isa will assist the Celestials get that booster. Maybe I can put her to use instead of letting her go where the wind blows her. O’Nai is at Duskstone talking to the High Crafter, after her luck came in handy for gathering the needed materials—I thought it would be a decade.”
“I’d suggest enlisting Rana or Amrúngwen to help deal with her. It sounds like you’re still inclined to punch her. Perhaps keep in mind that Viper loose would have been a menace to not just the faithful when you speak to them. I’ll admit hearing that news stilled a lot of the anger I held towards them both, even more so after I had time to reflect.”
“I’ve never dealt with either of them. The few Celestials from the Elven Courts stopped coming around after the Norse Celestials showed up regularly,” I remind him. “Disappointing as Amdirlain might find it, it’s not unexpected that they want to steer clear of Human trouble.”
“The activity around here will not lessen soon. Most Celestials have instructions to leave you in peace, those that don’t understand what’s going on with Amdirlain’s Domain. There’s been actual fighting, not just arguments of late, though Týr sees this as the various pantheons’ problem.” Torm admits.
When Farhad and I fix him with disbelieving looks, he gives a curt nod and continues on. “Amdirlain escalated things, but the friction has been present for centuries and getting worse. If it comes to Celestials or worse clashing on the Material Plane, all the ten-kingdoms pantheons might get dragged back to the Material Plane. She’s stayed free of joining any of them so she shouldn’t get pulled into any God war.”
“How do you know that?” Mirage asked curiously, only just beating Hook to voicing the question.
“There were smaller individual Deities and even non-human Deities worshipped among those on the fleet. When the last war occurred, it did not drag those Deities onto the Material Plane,” Torm advises, memories stirred up, and darkening his gaze. “Anyway, the Ljósálfar are far more likely to be relaxed in handling Isa’s and Ilya’s mindset than most of us are.”
Hook looks back from studying the new building in confusion at the change in subject. “What do you mean by that?”
Torm is quick to smile after the earlier seriousness.
“The need to see true Justice done is important to any serving Týr, and while sometimes it’s about forcing changes to the law, mostly it is acting within the law. Ebusuku enjoys studying her opponents and finding their weakness. You’re all focused on providing opportunities in an aspect or Amdirlain’s title,” advised Torm. “The Ljósálfar have a tendency towards a very individualistic approach.“
“I will readily admit they’re not evil, but they get caught up in the moment and their own desires,” I offer.
Torm nods and motions to those organising the newest arrivals. “The type of person to live by their own wits and rules might help an injured stranger on their doorstep, or a friend who asks them for help. Likewise, if they decide the stranger on their doorstep is going to be trouble, they might well step right over them. Similarly, someone that moves into town won’t get even recognition from them until they’ve proven their worth.”
“But if they’re new in town, isn’t that the perfect time to get to know them and welcome them?” Hook asks, and I can’t help but smile at the child-like innocence some Archons from the Maze still show.
“It would be, if you see the town as a community that helps keep everyone alive, and not something draining time or effort from your own endeavours. Some just see it as a place to live and buy things. It’s no skin off their nose if someone else is having issues as long as it’s not impacting them or their immediate circle of friends.”
Torm seems ready to continue but stops the moment I hold up a hand. “Moralising aside—Rana or Amrúngwen—how do I get in touch with either of these Ljósálfar?”
“Aggie has met them both,” replies Farhad, and nods when I glance at him. “They were both in Eyrarháls for a time when she was there, and I remember seeing them speak.”
“Right then. Mirage, get a message to Aggie,” I instruct. “Then you can have fun co-ordinating with the Ljósálfar, the duo, and Hook for the new group. If Aggie can’t get in touch with them, let me know. No one mention how fast the Celestials are levelling in case Rana hasn’t mentioned it to others.”
“Why do I get that fun?” protests Mirage.
“Because you took the Wizard Class, learnt various Message spells, and Ebusuku would prefer not to run them through,” Hook glibly offers.
“That explanation works for me. Go on,” I say and give Mirage an apologetic smile before I head towards the approaching Planetars.
* * *
A near-frozen pond of bloody flesh stretches out beyond the Gate, with a one-armed Sidero wading knee deep in it, a look of snarling focus on her face. A column of steel hauled aloft a pink mass of coral-like flesh, that it sends spinning from the blades around it and Sidero turns to give me a gleeful smile. The ragged stump of her right arm showing a steady regrowth of bone, muscle, and tendon.
“Care for some fried brains?”
Her quip in the rolling growl of Draconic draws my attention to beneath the slaughter and the churned surface of the Hivemind becomes clear.
“Glad you didn’t show up earlier. Next time open the Gate on Klipyl, she’s started sitting out the city-burning fun,” Sidero says. A dozen or more chains retract, dragging bodies in from adjoining corridors, releasing the frozen corpses once they're in place on the mound.
The familiar smell of carnage floods through the Gate, but stepping through it into mid-air, I let it close to keep the thickened fluids from seeping through. The mottled greyish-brown cavern around me arches high overhead, allowing plenty of room to spread my wings if I still needed them to stay aloft.
“I would have thought she’d need to progress as well,” I point out, knowing with Sidero, direct questions aren’t always the best approach.
“She’s not in danger of being recalled anywhere, so she’s being decidedly un-Demonic about it. Personally, I think all the regular sex, simply for fun, has softened her brain,” Sidero says, and despite the words there is a fondness to her tone.
“Or it’s her way of saying thanks, since you applied the name change that is keeping her safe,” I propose, ignoring the pointed words.
“Amdirlain could have done that,” she says dismissively. A spray of crystals erupts from beneath the brain mass, landing on her outstretched hand only to disappear, leaving blood dripping from her fingers. “Oh look, it had grown on gemstones, kinky. Wonder if it had a bling ring? That makes me wonder: does a Hivemind crap?”
“How did you haul them upwards?”
“Metal Control evolved a while back and shifted into Mineral Control. Anything you’d find on the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Mineral I can move at will,” Sidero says, and I feel a force tug teasingly at my armour.
The playfulness in her expression isn’t something I really want to explore, and at least one source of her odd mood is clear. “What happened to your arm?”
“Their Hivemind had a frisky protector. A giant Xorn that caught me by surprise, but in the end, I had the situation well in hand,” explains Sidero. The fierce smile turning sardonic she waggles the stump. “This is exactly why I never included fisting among my list of services; it’s bad for the muscles—front or back.”
“Torm said your experience progression was slowing down,” I offer, keeping clear of the subject and above the Hivemind’s corpse.
Sidero just drops the waggling stump back to her side. Chains from her shroud wrap around it and blend to form a hollow limb. Through the gaps left, I can see the continuing regrowth, even as she motions with her artificial arm. “It’s gone down, way down, and not in a good way,”
The purr in her voice has me shaking my head in disbelief, the tone more fitting for a sated succubus than a pain-loving Kyton. “Can we have a conversation that you don’t fill with sexual innuendo?”
“What, is it not fair when I turn the tables? You get to tease Amdirlain about sexual high-jinks buster,” scoffs Sidero,
“Pretty sure I don’t have exclusivity on that,” I say.
She returns my smirk before her protectiveness slips into place. “Watch it when Amdirlain starts with innuendo, it’s not always a good sign.”
“Really? Why?”
The quickness of my questions brings a pleased smile to Sidero’s lips, and I know my own protectiveness gave me away.
“That’s her business. If she’s joining in you talking about Farhad, that’s fine, means she’s happy for you. But watch how she phrases things. Anything that’s cheapening her, step on, and break her out of her mood,” cautions Sidero, her often caustic tone having disappeared at the first mention of Amdirlain. “Hopefully, those are few and far after she done at the monastery.”
I stop to consider a few conversations I’ve had with her, relieved at how often it’s been her teasing me about Farhad. “Normally, it’s been the former.”
“Good. Now I’m pretty sure you’ve not come to talk about my sex life, or Amdirlain’s lack thereof. So, what can I help you with, oh great and powerful Solar?” asks Sidero, giving me a series of exaggerated bows that almost fold her from the waist.
“More what I had in mind for you,” I reply only once she’s stopped carrying on. “I came to offer a Gate to Cemna so you could join us tackling some more dangerous undead and speed your levelling.”
“No, that’s fine,” Sidero says, cutting in before I can explain, her shroud shifting in a fashion I’ve never seen from any other Kyton’s chains. Every link disappears, and she’s wearing a seamless suit of metal, giving her the appearance of a golem. How—or why—she turns sections of metal covering her face and limbs gold I’ve not a clue, but it makes a distinct contrast to the red.
“Are you sure?” I ask, “It’ll speed things up again for you.”
Dragon maws shaped from various metals appear and float to settle about the edge of the Hivemind’s chamber. “Yes, but I gave my word to Amdirlain that I’d help the Erakkö. I don’t break my word.”
“Are you still missing an achievement for Tier 7?”
A predatory smile nearly splits her face in delight, and she stretches sensually, an almost afterglow in every motion. As if provoked by the motion, the chains reshape themselves and stretch away in an expansive gesture.
“No, I got that the last city I destroyed. Apparently, it held the central brain, and unfortunately for the Mind Flayers, I’m also immune to mental attacks, so jello in a cup’s big sibling could do Jack-all. I’ll keep taking out Mind Flayers and their engineered troops until they’re wiped from this planet, or Hell drags me away,” Sidero says. Her chains stab into the ceiling but she stays in place, and plasma suddenly fries the body to dust as it washes around our immune forms. As the mound falls to ash beneath her feet, and a pit grows, the purpose of the bracing is clear—the loops within the chains keep her from falling in.
“Why is that?” I ask over the roar of displaced air consumed in the inferno.
“I don’t like the soulless things they’ve turned the Thri-Kreen into. They used to exist in balance with nature; now they’re used as both food and cannon fodder by the Mind Flayers,” growls Sidero, a deep timbre that is an obvious reminder of her lineage.
“You’ve been helping us with all the new Celestials. Can I suggest a compromise?”
The tension in her body makes me sure she’s about to reject it flatly, instead she finally nods. “I’m listening.”
“The Archons interested in mapping the continent’s southern reaches can follow your grid pattern to explore and locate all the trouble spots. That saves you time on the searching, and we can teleport you to each site to fight. While they handle the grunt work, you can get experience fighting undead on Cemna,” I propose, and Sidero chews her bottom lip in consideration. Both of us ignoring the blood that starts trailing across her chin, and I speak up over her growling hiss of pleasure. “Plus, the three of us fighting together should be able to make up for all the experience you’ve given up.”
“This a Deal?” Sidero asks, and I have to snicker at the teasing note in her voice.
“Certainly not!” I reject instantly. Although she’s speaking Draconic, I still don’t like the implications. “It’s an arrangement to repay your efforts.”
“Not something to help a friend of Amdirlain’s?”
“There is that. You’re protective of her. Amdirlain had to fight off urges as a Succubus, are there urges you’re fighting as a Kyton? Is that why you don’t trust yourself around her?”
“Too right. Tasting all that pain from her isn’t good for my sanity, and I have to control my carving to dig at her wounds. I want to be there for my… her, but I can’t trust myself around her. My evolution better get me out of a Kyton’s flesh, Ebusuku,” hisses Sidero, with frustration and desperation. The blood lust in her gaze reminds me too well of all the battles I threw myself into seeking destruction, only to come out the other side.
“Why did you change what you were going to say?”
Chains scratching at the rock echo under Sidero’s rumbling growl. “My friend. She’s my friend, but I can’t consider myself to be a proper friend to her. A friend is someone who has your back. I don’t trust myself anywhere near hers. I won’t betray her like others have done, so best to have that distance especially now.”
“Then work with me to get you an evolution as soon as possible, so you can trust yourself again.”
The silence that follows has me wondering what it will take to convince her, but I wait her out instead of pushing her further.
When she nods sharply, I continue. “Klipyl can have some R&R time, as Amdirlain says.”
“It means rest and recreation, but for Klipyl it’s rooting and more rooting,” laughs Sidero, her dry humour causing her husky voice to rasp harshly. “You sure you don’t want to set her up as the Goddess of Pleasure, Beauty, and Sexual Positions? Since you did the end run on me, I figured you’ve got it worked out.”
“Not just me, I spoke with Týr and he hoped it would lift you free from Hell. I wasn’t sure it would even work, but it seems you were an Anar-”
“No, I wasn’t,” snaps Sidero, so fast the words slap the air with anger, and I stop in surprise.
From the fierce tone, it’s clear she’s unlikely to say more, but I try. “How do you know?”
“I know,” Sidero replies curtly, and doesn’t seem inclined to budge. “I was not an Anar. Give me a few days to finish looting this place, and we can go killing together. I’ll bring the chains and we can have some bonding time.”
“Let’s just focus on killing undead and Demons shall we?” I suggest, and her eyes gleam with a hungry cunning.
“Demons as well, my, you give delightful gifts, Lerina. Did Amdirlain tell you they’re my preferred playthings?” Sidero purrs, her smile broadening, and the tips of her forked tongue brushed across her upper lip.
“She did,” I nod, suddenly cautious about her voicing my Use Name, aware that Amdirlain isn’t the only one that has Analysis. The purr she gave the words in Draconic sitting uncomfortably within the chamber, not unlike suddenly being in an ancient Dragon’s den. “I’d prefer you not using my new Use Name where others might hear it.”
Sidero just smiles, and her solid sulphur-yellow gaze digs at me—black slitted pupils flicker in and out of existence. “Wise. An Anar word meaning ‘free’, did she inspire the choice or just your situation?”
“Amdirlain gave me the chance to get free, then my deeds and choices let me achieve it. It’s something to remember that not everyone gets that chance,” I reply. My mind’s eye reminding me of the proud fighter my mother had been before the corrupting influence of Balnérith’s shadow had set in.
Comments
Kemizle
Hope she gets the evolution before she gets called back to hell
