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MillionNovel > Abyssal Road Trip > 269 - Burning sky

269 - Burning sky

    Amdirlain’s PoV - Demi-Plane


    Ebusuku gave the pair an overview of the City of Brass before she left Amdirlain and Sarah to attempt alternative mediation techniques. Some of those Sarah took Amdirlain through were variations on approaches Amdirlain had previously used. Despite her efforts to develop the Skill separately, Amdirlain found everything tied back to Devouring Cacophony. The moving meditation of a Tai Chi form, and even mindful meditation, caught her up listening for the music encapsulated in her motions.


    “Tai Chi is an example of moving meditation; you don’t have to get meditation separately again,” offered Sarah. “Just do some shadowboxing or set katas whenever you need to meditate, lose yourself in the movements.”


    “Devouring Cacophony doesn’t have the same connotation,” grumbled Amdirlain.


    Sarah snorted. “Gideon’s trolling getting under your skin? It means what you decide it means. Maybe let it consume your worries for a time; after all, you enjoyed training with Ilya.”


    After experimenting to find a comfortable pattern that mixed in various attacks, Amdirlain focused on the Ki nodes within her flesh. The first cycle through her phoenix pattern took her longer than she recalled, but aware it had been nearly a quarter of a century, Amdirlain didn’t rush. As the last node connected, a blaze of power coursed through her flesh. Amdirlain immediately followed the illuminated path without pausing to celebrate her success.


    Sarah didn’t interrupt but, taking in the phoenix feathers dancing under Amdirlain’s skin, she moved to a nearby platform. Expanding into her draconic form, she sprawled out to enjoy the show. With her chin resting on the closest edge of the football field-size plate, Sarah’s tail didn’t quite reach the far end, and its elongated spike sketched the time as Amdirlain’s dancing blade work continued.


    By the time Amdirlain stopped, her skin was ablaze from cycling Ki, Mana, and Psi through her pattern. Swords disappearing away, Amdirlain glided to the pavilion and pressed her hands against its latticework. Evoking Universal Life, Amdirlain’s already glowing hands shone like floodlights, and the crystal drank up the power. Only once all the excess energy had drained into the Demi-Plane did Amdirlain relax and stretch. “That will take getting used to again, particularly since providing it to the Domain was smoother than doing so to the crystal.”


    “A lot faster than going around smashing things until you use all the power up,” countered Sarah.


    “You look like you weren’t idle,” Amdirlain quipped.


    Sarah coughed. “Well, I wasn’t allowed to hunt close to Sanctuary’s Cove, but that didn’t stop me from wiping out places further afield that could cause trouble later.”


    “Not to mention the Kraken,” murmured Amdirlain.


    “The Kraken isn’t for discussion; Esdras wasn’t happy about the mess,” exclaimed Sarah.


    “I don’t know, Sarah, pretty naughty getting the local Gold Dragon upset with you,” tsked Amdirlain.


    “It was more that my manner of execution meant the body didn’t provide as much profit,” explained Sarah.


    Amdirlain gave her a grave nod. “Silly Dragon, how are you supposed to increase your hoard?”


    Blowing a raspberry, Sarah flexed her wings. “Get singing.”


    “There is an obvious hole in your plan with the assassin’s guild; I’ll stand out a bit,” replied Amdirlain, ignoring Sarah’s mock demand.


    “Only if you don’t get good enough at Stealth. But there are a few holes, including that the assassin’s guild operates throughout the Efreeti’s caliphate,” corrected Sarah. “Torm might never have visited the City of Brass; however, their ledgers record all of the guild''s work within the Grand Sultan’s control.”


    “What do you plan to be doing while I earn rank?”


    Sarah grinned. “I’ll find a merchant contact dealing with their cities throughout the Plane. Then, whether they know it or not, we can use them to distribute crystals about the place; spread the detection network. I’d suggest not looking like an Elf, or would even suggest picking a species that doesn’t have genders you’re used to; it might throw him off.”


    “We likely shouldn’t travel together.”


    “No, we’ll stick together; he doesn’t know I got rid of the Mantle,” argued Sarah. “I’ll use that Purple Dragon disguise since I’ve already sorted it out. You can be my lackey serving as my voice, if you’d like.”


    “That’s normally used when the Dragon isn’t in a smaller form. There is no way that you’re getting into the City of Brass in full Dragon form,” dismissed Amdirlain.


    “No fair,” huffed Sarah.


    Waving a hand at Sarah, Amdirlain smirked. “Well, you’re red, not fair.”


    “Well, isn’t your humour being all scaly today? Whatever. What form are you going to use?”


    Amdirlain’s form shifted, dark red scales growing across her body as her legs merged into an elongated tail.


    “Salamander is a risky form to use,” critiqued Sarah.


    “I’ve practised moving around in a Marilith’s form,” reminded Amdirlain.


    “That’s not what I meant. The Efreeti enslaved the salamanders because of their metal working proficiency, of which you have zero, unless you sing it into existence,” observed Sarah.


    Sighing, Amdirlain’s form expanded to four metres tall and gained a stern expression as her skin turned crimson. Black locks cascaded past her square jaw, and Amdirlain treated Sarah to the same cruel smile she’d seen on the fire giants. As Sarah rolled her eyes, Amdirlain created a set of red Dracolisk leathers for herself and a pair of cestus. She added fishhook spikes jutting a finger length past the knuckles of each hand, the v-shapes pointing forward carefully sharpened across the tip and jagged to help rip and tear.


    “Red Dracolisk?”


    “Another fragmented memory—seeing Hasusar’s black leathers prompted the recollection.”


    “Chromatic dragons will stick their dick into anything, won''t they?” joked Sarah. “The Adventurers’ Guild has some interesting individuals, and the Grand Master isn’t even the strangest. Are you sure you want to use a Fire Giant form?”


    Though it wasn’t a shape she found comfortable because of the malice she remembered the fire giants possessing, Amdirlain only shrugged. “I could go as an elder thing instead, but the local Efreeti might get upset.”


    Growling lightly, Sarah tapped her tail against the platform. “Don’t tell me Cthulhu exists.”


    “After seeing that imprisoned thing in the Abyss, there could be something worse,” teased Amdirlain.


    “Now you’re being weird,” retorted Sarah.


    The sharpness of Sarah’s tone drew a snort from Amdirlain. “Why are you all snippy at me today?”


    At the question, Sarah froze in mid-quip and ruffled her wings thoughtfully. “You surprised me by telling Ebusuku before Torm.”


    Sarah’s explanation earned an understanding nod from Amdirlain. “Torm was your hunting partner, so draconic instincts have you irritable. I’m trying to face facts, finally. The Torm I knew likely won’t come back; that made it pointless to hold out from telling Ebusuku. Setting the condition of telling her after Torm’s restoration meant keeping it secret forever.”


    “A lot of time alone to think and consider the situation, is that what you needed?” enquired Sarah.


    Amdirlain’s lips twisted at the sourness of her thoughts. “I’ve not given up entirely; otherwise, I wouldn’t have bothered to capture the two. Hopefully, I can help all three return to being celestials, but it''s not a foregone conclusion. At this point, my best case scenario is I keep all three from causing more evil; anything else is gravy.”


    “Why were you asking Ebusuku about Oath links?”


    “They’re both sworn to Moloch,” advised Amdirlain. “I can hear the connection between them. Moreover, using Analysis on the link confirmed the holder was Moloch. From a computer perspective, he’s got holes in his firewall—but most can’t hack into them.”


    “Oh!”


    The vicious smile Amdirlain gave this time was genuine. “If I can get the corruption to drain through that link, Moloch has plenty of memories I can use for extracting the foulness from the Fallen.”


    “How strong is the link?”


    “I’m not sure, it’s different to the Soulbond Livia had with me, so manipulating energy across it will be a delicate undertaking,” mused Amdirlain. “The links didn’t stir any memories, but True Song Architecture has plenty to say about them, so lots of careful experimentation will be needed.”


    “Let’s go to the City of Brass then,” Sarah suggested. “You can compose the tests in your downtime.”


    “Are you sure you want to come with me?”


    Sarah huffed. “Not letting you go alone; Efreeti like rare goods, anything to sate their appetites.”


    “I take it you’ve fireproof clothing?” enquired Amdirlain.


    Transforming into a Fire Giant that was nearly a twin to Amdirlain’s form, Sarah gave a smile that added to the coldness in her black gaze. “Yes, mum. If you spot any of the Azer about, don’t think the Efreeti are at fault; they’re still under an indentured contract to the fire mephits’ Matriarch for another 400 odd years.”


    The name invoked a memory of a Dwarf with bronze skin and a beard of orange flames, mining out diamonds from within a volcano. Far stouter than other dwarves she’d met, their skin possessed a metallic sheen. The elemental nature made it clear they were more spirit than flesh even before the song grew clear in Amdirlain’s mind.


    “I’ve got a bare memory of one mining within a magma field. How did the fire mephits manage a contract like that?”


    “The Azer didn’t take their holdings’ defences seriously enough while we were gone. They got conquered, and the terms of their surrender forced them to sign a contract that indentured the species for a hundred thousand years,” explained Sarah. “Ebusuku told me someone in their hierarchy betrayed them, letting their foes into fortresses; hopefully, they will have learned that lesson if they get their freedom.”


    “If?” queried Amdirlain.


    Sarah’s shrug was barely a shoulder twitch. “Whatever the rumours are, the terms of surrender might be completely different, especially with traitors. How much did they sell their species out for?”


    “I might have to see if I can track down an Azer elder; I won’t leave Moradin’s elemental children enslaved,” mused Amdirlain.


    “Sometimes you’ve got to let people take responsibility for themselves—you’ve enough on your plate,” countered Sarah, and she raised a hand to forestall Amdirlina’s protest. “That said, there are likely plenty of the Azer where we’re heading. Tell me about these two achievements of yours.”


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    It didn’t take Amdirlain long to cover the details, and Sarah whistled appreciatively. “Do you remember if achievements can decay without being used?”


    “No, why do you ask?”


    “The Class level you are going for isn’t something most people try to achieve. I’d be worried about these going to waste,” clarified Sarah.


    Amdirlain frowned at the options. “I’m not interested in becoming an Imperial Princess, and I’m concerned about the Prestige Class.”


    “So you’ll push for Empress instead,” laughed Sarah. “Gamer girl, I know the truth—you want the shinier toy but, that said, second-rate songbird or whatever Gideon called it, is obviously a dig to do better. I’d suggest levelling the classes you’ll be merging and getting them to where they need to be. Then you can focus on levelling abilities and the other classes. If one of those achievements decays after that, you can switch levelling off until you get something you want unlocked.”


    “I was using the spread of experience to give my powers and skills time to level,” explained Amdirlain. “Are you sure they wouldn’t decay together?”


    Sarah gave her a reproachful look. “Got your blinkers on, girl? You’ll have to get them higher anyway, but you can do that once you get the next Prestige and evolved base Class. As for decaying together, freeing Laodice and destroying all those oaths is far more important than destroying a Prestige Class.”


    Amdirlain winced and adjusted the experience to apply to the two classes alone. “Done.”


    Her pronouncement gained a laugh from Sarah, and Amdirlain gave her a mock reproachful look. “That’s the attitude I get for taking your advice?”


    “I used Analysis on your achievements; Gideon was snarky about Planar Class Warfare,” Sarah explained, and she laughed again.


    [Analysis: Planar Class Warfare


    Details: Given for destroying the Prestige Class Blood Monk. It was like alfalfa on a steak: most people will be inclined to push it aside and keep eating, like pubic hair if you’re going pearl diving anyway.]


    “Alright, I see what you mean,” snorted Amdirlain.


    “How about you open a Gate to your secure prison and we can teleport and planar hop from there to mask your Demi-Plane?” suggested Sarah, holding back her snickers.


    “After you calm down, scale butt.”


    Her grumbled response set Sarah laughing, and it took her many attempts to stop completely. For a half hour, every time Sarah came close to calm, one look at Amdirlain’s storm cloud expression set her laughing again.


    Once Sarah was finally calm, a double hop took them to the Elemental Plane of Fire. Around them, a firestorm was in progress, sending lashing sheets of flame across the top of a sea of liquid fire beneath them. Amdirlain’s immunity to Fire didn’t stop her from feeling the oppressive heat or make it any easier to see through the smoky haze filling the space not occupied by flame.


    Hovering beyond the wards surrounding the City of Brass, Amdirlain found the source of its name wasn’t from the colour of flames. The city’s streets formed rings along the curvature of a massive enchanted brass bowl. While the radius at the lip was some 70 kilometres, it was double that tall. Among its monumental buildings, thousands of minarets atop palaces and apartment blocks stab like needles towards the flaming sky. The Efreeti had made not only the buildings and streets but everything else from the same glowing hot brass; from the humble street signs to the tallest of grand minarets.


    The whole of the city was easily visible from their current height. Through the Willpower of the Grand Sultan of the Efreeti, the air over the city was clear of the Plane’s pervasive smoke and flames. There could be little doubt that the effort''s only purpose was to sate his ego by ensuring his city’s glory was always on full display.


    Teleport placed the pair near the travellers ascending the obsidian steps to the closest city entry. The position below the bowl’s rim gave them a view of a cracked obsidian plate supporting the bowl—like a giant teacup resting on a neglected saucer. It further reinforced the perception of the city’s ego trip. Since the plate wasn’t visible from the Grand Sultan’s palace, he didn’t ensure it was maintained to the same gleaming standards.


    The crowd of travellers was mostly Efreeti, but there were fire giants, mephits, and even evolved fire elementals able to compress themselves into a humanoid form. A minority were from other species, and Amdirlain didn’t spot a single Elf or Human. She spotted a group of Azer ahead with beards the colour of heated steel clad in stained labourer''s clothing.


    The first Efreeti Amdirlain had sensed provided her with an encapsulated understanding of the species'' nature and song. Though she had known they were an elemental species, she hadn’t understood that their very essence limited what they could become or learn.


    The cruelty she knew they possessed was appalling, but the song made sense of their behaviour. However capricious they seemed, the Efreeti were rule-bound, and their cruelty was the unthinking mercilessness of flames. They didn’t understand or care about others'' suffering; they only cared about what they could consume.


    Those Efreeti on the stairs were four to five metres tall and relatively uniform, with skin ranging from deep maroon to burgundy, black hair, loose pants, and well-muscled torsos on display. The main variation between them was in the shape of the horns that stuck out of their foreheads beneath black locks; some had barely nubs while others rivalled a fourteen-point stag’s antlers. Their sharp Human-like features were cruelly predatory, and bejewelled garb in a rainbow of colours matched the Arabian tales.


    “They’re predatory living flames pretending to be flesh,” Amdirlain grumbled mentally to Sarah.


    Her comment received only a nod from Sarah, who was already striding across the liquid flames surrounding the obsidian pathway to join the line.


    Their trip up the kilometres of black stairs was a procession conducted in near silence. The surrounding travellers were not interested in their presence, and those around them greeted Amdirlain’s enquiring glances with scowls and grunts.


    The heat reflected from the black stairs would have baked a Human to death nearly instantly, and the air shimmered from the continual heat. They could see the same heat waves from the metal as they approached the gates. Though the Efreeti guards on duty shook down those carrying conspicuous packs for payment based on their contents, those who didn’t have bags entered without enquiry. Those rich enough to have a dimensional container as jewellery weren’t to be bothered.


    The directions that Farhad had provided Sarah allowed them to avoid making enquiries, and they continued straight ahead towards the central palace. Despite being a main road, they still had to push through the packed crowd navigating between stalls and shops. The crush of the surrounding crowd initially contained few Efreeti, but their numbers steadily increased the further they ventured into the city’s centre.


    Ring after ring, the buildings grew increasingly lavish until each block was a single palace. The crowd had at least eased once the palaces started showing up; but both armoured guards and elaborately dressed Efreeti regarded them with distasteful looks. Through it all, Amdirlain kept her pace to an aggressive stomping gait, hoping the martial feel of her kata stride would keep those tempted by a Fire Giant’s form at bay.


    They were only four crossroads from the Grand Sultan’s palace when Sarah turned left. The mansions they passed seemed more places of business than residences. Polyglot only worked for spoken languages, so the symbols above the gates were meaningless to Amdirlain. Seeking context for the heavy traffic approaching some gates, she caught sight of various ‘paperwork’ on metal plates being presented to guards and, in return, directions provided to the floors or palace wings.


    “Do you read Efreeti?”


    “Illiterate bitch, the signs are all in Ignan,” grunted Sarah.


    Avoiding rolling her eyes at Sarah’s theatrics for observers, Amdirlain merely spent a knowledge point on the language. Compared to the rush of understanding gained through points spent on True Song Architecture, Amdirlain didn’t even notice the sensation of learning the language.


    Amdirlain merely grunted in return and took in the cursive script of the signs. All along the street, the palace signs proclaimed their relationship to governmental departments: trade, city maintenance, military, interior, and more. When Sarah tapped her shoulder and headed for a specific gate, Amdirlain snorted.


    Department of the Auditor General was the closest translation Amdirlain had for the writing above the Gate.


    When Amdirlain shot her an incredulous look, Sarah returned it with a tight smile. “We need to get paperwork lodged with them before we can join the guild.”


    “Assassins are auditors?”


    “More that every one of the Efreeti auditors is an Assassin,” corrected Sarah. “After all, they work in correcting those unsuitable who hold a government or non-government position among the living.”


    “That-”


    “An employment opportunity, making a difference in local government near you,” quipped Sarah.


    “Vote now, vote often,” retorted Amdirlain and approaching the guards, she dropped the concealment from the Lady of Butchery aura. When she’d drawn closer despite her stomping gait, the guards’ consideration of her had been lecherous until the aura hit, and they turned pink. The guard she''d focused on continued to have the colour drain from his face, and he almost hurried to escape Amdirlain’s path.


    “Don’t go away,” snapped Amdirlain. “Where does a new Assassin register?”


    Turning, he jabbed a hand towards the main door and stammered. “T-t-take the right-hand passage from the foyer; you’ll want the second doorway from the end—last on the left.”


    Following his directions, Amdirlain moved through the main doors and found herself in a hallway awash with an opulent display of wealth. Dimensional magics played tricks with the interior space, and the palace that had seemed modest from the outside promised to contain kilometres of hallways and rooms.


    The foyer was a two-hundred-metre square with ornate pillars supporting a dozen galleries along its edges. A curving staircase to their right started ten-metres from where they stood, joining each level as it spiralled around the room. The staircase’s bulk almost hid the passage they needed to take, but twin corridors straight ahead and to the left prompted Amdirlain to move forward until she spotted it.


    The builder had sheathed every surface in patterned mosaic metal panels that gave the place a distinctly Arabian style, especially combined with the horseshoe arches. Every mosaic contained only geometric forms and curving knots, with gemstones adding additional splashes of colour along the walls. In contrast to the other busy surfaces, the ceiling’s only adornment was the Grand Sultan’s seal.


    Amdirlain’s aura cut a path through the few occupants they found within, those they approached, regardless of the species, practically jumping to get out of their way. Before she opened the door they’d been directed to, Amdirlain restored the concealments on her aura. The chamber within was a windowless open space twenty-metres across and fifty-metres long.


    Along its length, plates of near-molten steel littered desks made of precious metals that looked like they should themselves melt in the heat. A dozen Efreeti sat at them, transcribing details onto blank plates and correcting errors by allowing the metal to melt together. Those that staffed the office, for the most part, had barely nub-sized horns. The noticeable exceptions were two female Efreeti that held desks at either side of a door at the far end, and the one with a series of vicious Class songs had three pointed antlers to her credit.


    [Name: Wasmaaa el-Sultana


    Species: Efreeti


    Class: Hunter / Assassin / Wizard / Torturer


    Level: 40 / 40 / 41/ 46


    Health: 8,564


    Defence: 220


    Magic: 51


    Mana: 10,190


    Melee Attack Power: 261


    Combat Skills: Short Blades [M] (12), Pole-arms [Ad] (15), Fire Mastery [S] (2) - Assorted affinities and spells lists.


    Details: She is the youngest daughter of the Grand Sultan and a lesser concubine. Wasmaaa recently accepted a position as a junior auditor for the interior ministry. She loves her work and enjoys digging into any problem that comes her way.]


    They stood inside the doorway while everyone ignored them until Wasmaaa’s gaze turned their way. A spike of basalt shattered across the ear of the nearest Efreeti; he dropped the stylus etching sigils into a steel plate and clasped at the glowing blood dripping from his ear.


    “Handle those giants,” snapped Wasmaaa.


    The scribe’s fingers left impressions on the metal plate still clasped in one hand, but he fixed his furious gaze on them and did his best to ignore Wasmaaa. “What is it?”


    “Registration for the assassin’s guild,” stated Sarah.


    The scribe pulled an obsidian brazier from his desk then filled and poured in a flask of steaming quicksilver. A transparent film of energy kept the quicksilver steam from dissipating completely. “Place your hand in the bowl.”


    Sarah followed his instructions, and glowing sigils appeared over the bowl. The details accounted for Hunter, Fighter, Artificer and Dominator classes, and Amdirlain adjusted her profile further to mimic the details she wanted to show.


    Pulling a brass disc out, he touched it to the sigils, and they impressed themselves onto it. “Do you know the location of a suitable guild office?”


    When Sarah nodded, he waved her aside before she could speak and jabbed a finger at Amdirlain. Having already listened to the song within the enchantment, Amdirlain stuck her hand in the bowl and saw it report levels sixty-four in Fighter, Assassin, Hunter, and Wizard.


    The scribe scoffed and started to record the details on a metal plate. Once he’d transcribed everything, an official-looking seal got pressed into the metal beneath the entries, and then he thrust the plate out to Sarah. “Well, the guild needs thugs and useful types. Now get going.”


    Retracing their route took them back out nearly to the city’s edge before Sarah turned down another side street. A half kilometre along it, a flight of stairs took them beneath the city street. After descending a few levels, the brass walls became obsidian, but the heat didn’t lessen. “This is a minor outpost, but I got told to start here and not try registering closer to the Palace. Nice Class levels should get you some interesting jobs; I hadn’t known you were quite so talented.”


    Aware of those listening in as they passed through the maze of corridors that sometimes required them to stoop, Amdirlain grunted. “You don’t need to know everything.”


    When Sarah gave a mocking laugh, Amdirlain clenched her fists and ignored the derisive snort that came in response. The unilluminated corridors around them didn’t hinder either of their perceptions. On the fifth level down, Sarah turned off the stairs and wove her way through a maze of passages, her confidence granted by the memory crystal to which Amdirlain could sense her listening.


    The unadorned stone door Sarah finally thumped on had nothing unique to mark it as different than the hundreds they’d passed. Songs within it proclaimed scores of individuals, ruthless even among the Efreeti, engaged in various purposeful activities. Without being prompted, Sarah presented her metal plate to the door.


    A moment later, the door was flung open and Amdirlain looked down to regard the young Efreeti doorman looking up at the seal displayed on Sarah’s paperwork. “Come in. Talk to the Elf at the desk, don’t eat or maim him, or you’ll be doing the administration.”


    The youth wasn’t quite two metres tall but carried the same arrogance she’d seen from every Efreeti they’d passed until now, despite his song possessing only two weak Class themes—Fighter and Thief.
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