Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Xaos


    As Klipyl disappeared into the tower, Livia joined Amdirlain and Solveiga.


    “Móeir,” said Livia, and Amdirlain immediately wrapped her up in a carefully restrained hug.


    “How is everyone?” asked Amdirlain.


    Livia glanced at the soldier who’d interjected earlier after Klipyl’s comment, and he had the good sense to look shamefaced. “Let’s talk about it at your suite.”


    “Point. Did you three claim suites here, or are you at the Inn?”


    Solveiga nodded towards the tower. “Kli and I don’t need a room.”


    “Nomein and the others insisted on moving out to give yourself, Cyrus, and I privacy to catch up,” advised Livia, giving a slight eye-roll. “I tried to tell them it wasn’t necessary, but they insisted. Ras is currently scouting the city they were removing undead from, seeing if he can find some Lich’s den.”


    “Where did they move to?” enquired Amdirlain.


    “They’ve taken over two suites here and used Fabricate to set up basic furnishing,” advised Livia. “Though they’re commissioning other pieces.”


    Solveiga nodded. “I think they found ordering furniture strange. It was odd listening to them talk to the woodworker and being surprised it would take weeks to have the first pieces ready.”


    “Chaos Shaping provides a weird perspective regarding crafting on other planes,” agreed Amdirlain. “Ordering furniture will help other areas of the town’s economy, but I was told the wood crafters were busy.”


    “Nomein paid a fee to the crafters to jump the queue. As for the town’s economy, I’m sure the tower’s materials will turn this place into a hub for alchemists,” commented Solveiga.


    ’paid a fee’, is perhaps a nice way to say bribed.


    Amdirlain gave a cautious smile. “Hopefully, I don’t overdo it and cause the current residents issues. I’m a bit worried about impacts on the local economy, so I’ll have to keep an eye on things.”


    Take an MMO approach; non-transferable money sinks. Should I put a dispenser in the tower to charge for adding other functionality to the tokens? The first taste of storage is free, a 10-kilogram gateway drug for loot whores. I used to be like that until it became my reality, only now my Inventory spends most of its time nearly empty.


    A memory of all the excessive storage space she’d used in every game almost had Amdirlain snorting, but she kept a straight face.


    “It’s only the guards earning extra coin,” Solveiga asserted.


    “Galasser will sell to travelling merchants or via the Commander to other garrisons. That will allow him to inject more money into the town’s economy. I’ll go into the issue of inflation later.”


    Though the noise wasn’t audible to others, Amdirlain felt a thunderous blast shake the tower’s upper levels. “Kli is still a Trumpet Archon?”


    Solveiga nodded. “She says it matches her nature to have a horn ready to blow.”


    Amdirlain face palmed at the joke and sighed. “She just wiped out some constructs with a shockwave.”


    “Trumpet archons do tend to do that,” noted Solveiga.


    With the increase in experience from this week explained, Amdirlain turned to Livia. “Shall we go to my suite to talk?”


    Livia gestured towards the corridor she’d arrived through. “Cyrus also wants to talk to you about a few things.”


    “Let’s go collect him then. Want to bet he serves tea?”


    “I’m not taking that bet,” laughed Livia. “I think we had tea three or four times a day when he was training me on Cemna.”


    “I’ll leave you to it; I might play in your tower as well, my Lady,” said Solveiga.


    “No title for me, thank you,” insisted Amdirlain.


    Solveiga wrinkled her nose and fled towards the steps, calling over her shoulder. “Isn’t that my choice?”


    “She’s agreed to Elder or Sifu,” called Livia, and Solveiga burst into laughter.


    “Children,” huffed Amdirlain.


    “I’ve been told the school rules and your objections,” teased Livia. “Though Caretaker does sound suitable, given how many you’ve cared for and rescued, Móeir.”


    “You know you’re old enough to call me by name,” offered Amdirlain.


    “Why, I do believe you’re right, Móeir. I wouldn’t have the life I’ve lived without you; Gail and I very much have that in common,” asserted Livia.


    Amdirlain gave her a worried frown. “There is no debt.”


    “It’s not a debt,” reassured Livia. “We’re both grateful.”


    “No. Gail’s feelings aren’t just gratitude, and I’m worried about how much she lets that burden her,” admitted Amdirlain.


    Livia patted Amdirlain’s shoulder reassuringly. “Given how bright and cheery she is, I doubt she is being worn down by it. Let’s go find Cyrus; he was overseeing some students.”


    Looping her arm through Amdirlain’s, Livia led the way into Nolmar’s depths. They found Cyrus sitting beneath the awning of an inner courtyard. Spread across the flagstones, a few dozen young students from various races were practising strikes. A small gong resting on the floor near Cyrus directed their practice’s tempo. A hammer hovered in the air next to it and struck once every two seconds, causing it to emit a soft metallic rumble.


    Cyrus looked from the group and gave Amdirlain a polite nod. “Your students will be relieved at your return.”


    “I go too easy on them, do I?” asked Amdirlain, hiding her surprise at the expansion of the student body. Looking over the students, none looked old enough to be from the garrison. Listening, she found the teenagers didn’t have a single Class between them. An Elf with deep crimson skin and purple hair; her colouration and solid black eyes lent her features a villainous appearance far different from her harmonies, drew her eye.


    “We merely have different methods,” replied Cyrus.


    “Did some locals ask for training?” enquired Amdirlain.


    “There is one non-local. I told all that they’d need to prove their discipline before being taught any affinities,” advised Cyrus. “One youngster left a caravan that came through while you were away. She has potential, so I issued her a camp bed in a spare room here.”


    “If that’s what you agreed, that’s fine,” approved Amdirlain. “I’m surprised her parents agreed for her to leave the caravan.”


    “She was on the caravan to get away from her parents,” corrected Cyrus, and he nodded towards the crimson-skinned Elf. “Magic is rare among her people, so after hearing how easily you taught the garrison here...”


    Amdirlain finished his sentence. “She thought to try her luck?”


    “Exactly; she was determined enough to approach me directly. I thought I’d punish her courage by saying yes,” quipped Cyrus.


    “Be careful what you wish for—you might just get it,” proposed Amdirlain, and Cyrus gave her a curt nod. “Lezekus can teach individuals quickly if I’m not around when you think she’s earned it.”


    With the lack of dissonance from the young female Elf, she kept her curiosity about why she’d left home without having acquired even a single Class to herself.


    Livia filled her in on the changes at Eyrarháls while they waited for Cyrus’ training session to finish. After he dismissed the students, Amdirlain teleported them back to the suite at the Blazing Portal. The sudden shift from the awning’s shadow to the suite’s bright light left Livia blinking.


    “Wasn’t thinking about how bright this suite is,” muttered Livia. “It might be why the others opted to take up suites at Nolmar instead.”


    “If you prefer one there let me know and I’ll outfit it,” offered Amdirlain.


    Livia’s smirk added a sparkle to her crystalline blue gaze. “I don’t need a township created for me.”


    “The song got out of hand. I was thinking about the sizing of the burrow further up the hill,” admitted Amdirlain. “When I felt I put too much force in the start, I just went with the flow.”


    “Is that why Gail ended up with a Demi-plane far larger than she needs?” asked Livia, waving her arms expansively.


    “She ended up with that because I didn’t know how many guests she’d have to host, and partly as a test,” explained Amdirlain. “While I know the theory of Demi-Plane creation, I didn’t know exactly how much energy to put into it. Seeing I wasn’t there to correct the process, I went bigger than I expected to need.”


    “Your ‘Foundry’ is the second Demi-Plane you created? How long did it take you to create Gail’s?” enquired Cyrus.


    “An hour of singing to create the seed, but it would have spent a week growing to full size,” advised Amdirlain.


    “It looks like you’re in the middle of a series of deep forest glades. With the Radiant globe always overhead, managing only to provide an enfolding twilight in most glades,” detailed Livia.


    Cyrus hummed thoughtfully and moved to sit at the dinner table. Without a word of invitation, his tea set appeared beside him, and Livia gave Amdirlain an amused smile. Exchanging a shrug, they sat down across from him and waited for his preparations to complete.


    As Cyrus methodically prepared the tea, Amdirlain relaxed into the melodies running through them. Taking the offered tea with a nod of thanks, she enjoyed the comfortable silence, with no expectation of conversation between them.


    After Amdirlain and Livia had set their cups aside, Cyrus collected them, cleaned the service, and put everything away. “I take it your companions are not with you, Livia?”


    “They went back to the Middle Kingdom years ago; it became more difficult for them to manifest beyond my chakras as time passed,” explained Livia.


    “I had mentioned to Amdirlain that small Shen do have trouble manifesting outside the kingdom’s boundary,” advised Cyrus. “Your bond with them must have been strong to support them for even a few years. Perhaps they might venture out again when they grow in strength, but too soon will strain their energies.”


    “It’s a shame. I would have liked Móeir to meet them,” sighed Livia.


    “We should see if your mother can access the Middle Kingdom on the day of the dead,” proposed Cyrus.


    “Móeir,” corrected Livia casually. “While it is the Norse word for mother, Amdirlain would feel guilty about stealing me from her. Though, in honesty, my birth mother didn’t care what became of a daughter beyond the gain for my father; sons were the only offspring that were important to her.”


    “I stand corrected,” Cyrus said with a solemn nod.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    “What do you mean by ''day of the dead''?” asked Amdirlain to change the subject, despite the lack of tension from Livia.


    “It’s also referred to as ''Ghost Day''. The spirits and eastern demons can access the kingdom one day of the year. There are still rules that bind their behaviour, and the mortals know how to keep themselves safe,” explained Cyrus. “Zhi Ming or Xuánwǔ—depending on the name you favour—stands guard on the Emperor’s bargain. He ensures even the smallest Demon returns to the Eastern Hell at the dawn of the new day.”


    “Given the risks that you believe I’d run in the East, I’d like to know more about the rules before I try that approach. I do, however, have some experiments I want to run with summoning,” admitted Amdirlain, and she grinned at Livia. “Perhaps you can help me.”


    Livia lifted a brow. “Summoning you wouldn’t be easy.”


    Amdirlain gave a sad shake of her head. “I can create an object to both create the circle and summon me. The strength would come from it, but the object requires activation by a Mortal.”


    “Please don’t give something like that to anyone you don’t trust completely,” breathed Livia.


    “That’s where my second device comes in, plus something else I want to test,” reassured Amdirlain.


    “Second device?” enquired Livia.


    “It will be set up to teleport close to me and set off an earthquake strong enough to damage any summoning circles. After all, even misaligning a rune by shifting the ground would be enough to break loose,” explained Amdirlain. “I’d need a Mortal present on the world to activate it. It’s also a safeguard in case someone manages to summon me.”


    “You let us know, and one of us comes to the world and uses it?” enquired Livia. “I thought you were confident that True Song could prevent you from being summoned?”


    Amdirlain smiled. “Where would the fun be if I didn’t take full advantage of offered openings? Though the device might not be needed, as Resonance will let me identify the smallest flaw in a summoning circle. If I can’t break free, that’s where the device comes in; pass someone information on the world and have them travel to and trigger it. Wouldn’t even need to fully cross that Gate’s threshold; extending the device over it would suffice.”


    “That’s some loophole,” stated Cyrus after a moment’s consideration. “That is the danger of any summoning, being able to hold and control whatever is called up if you’re not its friend.”


    “You intend for your device to create the circle and invoke the summoning in the name of whoever uses it?” questioned Livia. “What about the circle it creates? If someone breaks your trust or someone else gets an impression of the design?”


    “That’s where designing the circle with deliberate flaws comes in. Both against betrayal and a safeguard in case they’re interrupted. Also, after I’m released from the circle, I’ll destroy it,” clarified Amdirlain.


    “Why take the risk?” asked Livia.


    “Am has found a species that takes over worlds their deities didn’t create,” Cyrus advised. “She sees herself as responsible.”


    Amdirlain gave a tight smile. “There are other places I need to get to, and it doesn’t matter if the Mortal is local to the planet for summoning. If they’re a Mortal, they can evoke a summoning and bring in any Outsider whose name they know.”


    “A literal invitation through the front doors,” murmured Cyrus. “Perhaps it’s why Goxashru was sent to you.”


    “Yes, Goxashru’s explanation about talons going where the Elder they serve can’t go got me thinking,” admitted Amdirlain. At Livia’s confused expression, Amdirlain explained Bahamut sending Goxashru to swear to her service.


    “Well, between myself and Goxashru, you have two people around here to support you,” remarked Livia. “Though last time you were worried about people coming to you.”


    “That adds to the reason for the second device. It will teleport close to me but outside the summoning circle, avoiding risk to anyone else,” explained Amdirlain. “The devices are just for emergencies; I hope I don’t need to use them.”


    “And here I was worried you might have been carelessly aggravating foes,” quipped Livia. “Are you sure you’re not looking to provoke someone deliberately?”


    “Not deliberately,” insisted Amdirlain.


    Cyrus’s snort caused Livia to lift an eyebrow.


    “Maybe I should say I’m not advertising my actions,” corrected Amdirlain. “Also, if I can create the device to summon me if there are serious issues on the Material Plane, I can come to help.”


    Livia frowned. “I’m surprised gods don’t pull this sort of trick.”


    “Oh, I’m not saying they can’t, but they run risks doing it. Look what happened to Ra; the Pharaoh or his family must have had something to draw forward a Divine avatar,” explained Amdirlain. “But yeah, turn up in a restricted avatar, get killed by a group of paragons, and trigger a Gods’ War. I don’t know if he was arrogant or suicidal.”


    “Given he let the situation with the Greeks progress so far, let’s go with arrogant,” suggested Cyrus. “I’ve seen some Shen with the same level of self-belief that such a deed requires.”


    “It’s a common theme, isn’t it? Two winds and numerous heavenly generals all had to redeem themselves, didn’t they?” questioned Amdirlain.


    “The Black Tortoise, the White Tiger, the Great Sage and seven heavenly generals, none of the other winds devolved into demons,” corrected Cyrus. “There were other lesser Shen beneath those ranks that gave into temptations and had to make amends.”


    “Anyway, worst case I get killed, but I’m not dragging kingdoms into an insane war,” asserted Amdirlain.


    “Worst case you’re trapped and destroyed for good, Móeir. You’ve no Mantle to cause you to get sent to the Maze if Apollo’s trap happens again,” asserted Livia, and she gave Amdirlain a worried frown.


    “I’m being careful, potentially too careful; I’ll need to take risks if I’m to progress,” said Amdirlain.


    Cyrus huffed. “Is our training not risky enough for you?”


    “Our training is tame, even if I take a while to recover from some wounds,” replied Amdirlain.


    “Cyrus mentioned he was helping you to train, but was evasive about the details,” stated Livia. “Why don’t you two show me what you’ve been up to?”


    “A demonstration would save the explanations,” agreed Amdirlain.


    “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” commented Cyrus.


    Amdirlain laughed. “Where is the fun in playing it safe all the time?”


    Creating a Gate directly in the suite, Amdirlain led the way. Even before she crossed the threshold, she’d refreshed the atmosphere within the Foundry to ensure it was safe for Livia.


    Livia bowed politely to the nearest celestials and started to look around. Only once Livia caught sight of the cratered platform that had hosted their sparring sessions did she offer a frown. “I see you two have been playing rough.”


    “I’ve been restricting my blows,” objected Cyrus.


    Giving Livia a wink, Amdirlain nodded in agreement. “Love taps, the worst have only broken a few bones at a time.”


    “Well then, I’ll allow you’re a lot harder to hurt than I might suspect,” admitted Livia before gesturing to a massive crater. “Either that or the training has involved head-butting the ground.”


    “Harsh,” groaned Amdirlain.


    Cyrus smiled. “But fair. Your Móeir is a touch stubborn.”


    “I didn’t say which of you I’d thought had done the head-butting,” countered Livia.


    Laughing, Amdirlain lept across to the platform, and before she reached the halfway point, Cyrus was following. His skin was already crackling with Lightning, and the first kick that swept past Amdirlain’s face caused the hair on her scalp to lift.


    * * * * *


    Amdirlain called a halt to their sparring in time to return to Xaos before the regular training time. She arrived in the courtyard to find Enrig dodging attacks from a training construct. Its padded quarterstaff whistled through the air; the speed forced the Ratkin to stay light on his feet. Letting her feet scuff the ground, Amdirlain saw Enrig’s ears swivel in her direction. Leaping back, he lifted his hands in surrender until the training construct had returned to its position and resumed an idle pose.


    “Did Master Cyrus add to the training drill, or was this something of your own initiative?” enquired Amdirlain innocently. She’d been too busy playing tag with Cyrus and asking for an update had slipped her mind.


    Perfect long-term memory doesn’t prevent me from missing short-term stuff.


    “He said we were unused to properly moving around our opponents,” explained Enrig. “He wanted to ensure we didn’t get run over by anything faster than a slow turtle.”


    “True. You need to at least get up to keep out of reach of an elderly Ratkin,” prodded Amdirlain.


    Enrig let his whiskers droop exaggeratedly, which didn’t match the sparkle in his gaze. “At least I’m faster than Callen; he’s too used to fighting in shield formations.”


    His comment allowed a better conversational opening than she had previously been given. “Is there a local versus non-local rivalry within the garrison?”


    The question had Enrig’s tail swishing across the ground, and he scratched the back of his head. “Not exactly, more a sectional rivalry. Callen applied for promotion across sections and beat a friend for his spot.”


    “Is there a reason for the different races being split between sections?”


    “The lizardfolk can’t tell furred races apart. Most of the elves and other furless people can’t tell groups of the furry or lizardfolk apart. The lizardfolk’s tendency to scrub with communal hot sands makes a mess of their scents, preventing us from telling the difference in their scale scents,” admitted Enrig. “In the end, it’s a matter of practicality.”


    “Most of the elves,” repeated Amdirlain. “That doesn’t seem to include Callen.”


    “Yeah, but it was still my friend’s slot to try for, and Callen stole the spot from him,” insisted Enrig.


    “Because he was better at the rating, or because you think Captain Bedevere favoured him?”


    Enrig’s shoulders slumped. “No, he outfought him and did better in the exams for the position.”


    “Did your friend take it hard?”


    “Yes, he applied for a transfer and shifted outposts, even took his extended family with him,” grumbled Enrig.


    “Uprooted his whole family out of pride?” enquired Amdirlain. “Did Callen force him to do that?”


    “It wouldn’t have happened if Callen hadn’t applied across sections. He’s an Elf, he’s got plenty of years to move up the ranks,” argued Enrig.


    “Potentially it wouldn’t have happened if your friend had applied himself harder. You said it was his turn; who else from the section applied for the position?”


    “No one, of course; it was his turn,” insisted Enrig, his tail thrashing across the flagstones.


    Amdirlain suppressed her frown. “Would it be better for the garrison to have the best or the most senior people in positions? What happens if the most senior is an idiot?”


    “Idiots are distracted from applying,” advised Enrig. “Him getting the spot wouldn’t have caused an issue with the section morale.”


    “Are you related to his wife?”


    “No, my sister married his brother, and they went with him,” hissed Enrig in frustration.


    “Did someone force them to move?” asked Amdirlain. Enrig’s ears lifted sharply, and Amdirlain caught the feel of Callen’s mind approaching. “Perhaps it’s something to think about in your spare time.”


    “Perhaps,” muttered Enrig.


    When Callen entered the courtyard and started to remove his armour, Amdirlain hummed thoughtfully. “Have either of you been in the tower as yet?”


    “Between training and work shifts, we’ve not had time,” advised Callen, and Enrig reluctantly nodded his agreement.


    “This training session involves going in,” advised Amdirlain.


    Enrig’s gaze shifted about. “I left my gear in the barracks.”


    “Good, because you wouldn’t have gone in with it. You’ve got your belt knife, as does Callen. You each have that, your Ki training, normal clothing, and teamwork to see how many constructs you can get past.”


    “This might be painful,” commented Callen.


    “I’m sure if you can’t learn to work together, it will be,” confirmed Amdirlain. “Each week, you’ll be doing the same thing. You’ll be venturing in there daily if you do badly enough.”


    Callen tilted his head but held his tongue at Amdirlain’s response.


    “That makes no sense,” protested Enrig.


    “Or it makes complete sense, but our perspective is different,” argued Callen. “It will be as you say, Sifu.”


    “Ki, either circulating through your skin or encouraged to form a mist within your flesh, helps deflect blows. After a time, you’ll find it might even start to armour you more fully,” advised Amdirlain and waved back down the corridor. “By the way, their weapons will teleport back into each construct’s initial room after you defeat them. Now get started.”


    “Sifu, can we ask why?” enquired Enrig.


    “You can ask,” replied Amdirlain before she teleported away. Landing atop the outer training hall, Amdirlain blended in with the slate tiles.


    It didn’t take long for the pair to reach the outer courtyard. Once there, Callen stacked his armour and sword near the steps and started with their warm-up exercises.


    Shooting a nervous look at the stairs, Enrig at first ignored him but joined in after a few minutes.


    “Sifu said the weapons teleport back after the constructs are defeated,” noted Enrig. “Ki Strike against their limbs and utilise their weapons?”


    “The room at the top of the stairs is empty. We can throw a knife to bait one to us,” suggested Callen.


    “They’ll come in groups,” cautioned Enrig.


    Callen nodded. “Yeah, keep the first in the archway.”


    “We might lose a knife,” warned Enrig.


    “There are only two in the first room; I’m sure we can defeat both,” responded Callen. “But fine, we might do better than two; give me a minute.”


    Once he finished stretching, Callen left the courtyard and returned with a pouch weighed down with pebbles from the ground outside.


    “Think Sifu will count them against us?” asked Enrig.


    “Only one way to find out. In some places, having a pouch of rocks is normal clothing—never know when a stone on hand will be useful for taking down a bird for supper.”


    Enrig sighed. “I’ll take the left-hand side of the door.”


    “We’ll alternate. Whoever is on that side will look to damage their sword arm.”


    “The Ki Strike will let my claws dig in deeper than your punches,” advised Enrig.


    “I’m not planning to attempt ripping it apart, Enrig. We should each take turns to spread the effort. I’d suggest that once one of us takes a serious wound, we surrender to avoid losing levels. We don’t have shields to keep a blade out of our throats.”


    The pair nodded and headed up the stairs, Enrig still dragging his tail.


    Children. They’ve both got over forty levels to each construct’s twenty! It’ll be painful, but they’ll be fine working together.


    The simple-minded construct fell into their trap, its focus split between them. Enrig struck when it turned towards Callen, Ki Strike gave his raking claws armour-splitting force that Enrig directed against the construct’s wrist. Callen’s Ki-ladened kick smashed against its shield as the sword clattered to the ground and drove the construct back through the doorway. The second construct stepped into the gap before the first hit the ground. Armed with the sword, they quickly liberated a shield from the second construct, and the pair took the constructs down with only minor injuries.


    Callen’s turn to take the weapon, he took a different approach. Without Enrig’s claws, he stepped in as the construct stabbed towards Enrig. Grasping under its wrist, he spun in and braced his back against its side. His levels gave him the strength to turn its attack into a brutal over-shoulder throw that smashed it to the ground. They pounced on the gear Callen had jarred loose from the construct’s grip and scrambled away before it could rise.


    As it rose, it scrambled for the shield and sword they’d already claimed. The fourth joined its fellow and, before it could herd them, they raced past it into the now-empty room. Callen used the shield to smash down the constructs’ attacks, and Enrig took them apart. With the weapons in their original chamber, they didn’t disappear from their hands when the constructs fell. Armed with their temporary equipment, they pulled the foes from the third room and made quick work of them.


    Behind them, the tower reconstructed the constructs in the first room.


    It will split the experience between all their melee classes since they’re not only using Ki strikes. That’s just as well since it will give them time to grow their skills without gaining as many levels in Monk. At least they’re both professional when it comes down to being on the business end of weapons.


    Things went wrong in the sixth room—a missed strike allowed the construct’s return swing to open Enrig’s arm from shoulder to elbow. While Enrig needed Callen’s prompting, they both surrendered and were teleported from the tower.


    Amdirlain teleported beside them and looked over Enrig’s bone-deep wound. “Nasty.”


    “No armour made things tough,” Enrig commented. “Maybe you could make the constructs softer when we do this again.”


    Keeping him still with one hand on his back, she held the other palm just above his wound, and Amdirlain allowed Universal Life to bathe the injury in her Ki. The rush of energy outstripped the healing effect of the regenerative field, which was already causing the flesh to merge.


    A wide-eyed Enrig flexed his long fingers when, a moment later, it left only the bloody cloth as evidence he was wounded. “What was that?”


    “Universal Life is its name, but some refer to it as Ki Healing, Reiki, or other names. It uses Ki energy and is a Power you can learn as Monk. The body wants to heal, and your Soul remembers its flesh. The Power offers the Ki to the injury, and the flesh uses it to restore its original state,” explained Amdirlain. “You can do this for yourself if you can concentrate past the pain. I want you to spend the rest of your lesson time meditating and focusing on moving your Ki along your skin. Consider how vulnerable you felt and how it made your pulse race; what was your Ki doing?”


    “Is that what you wanted us to learn?” asked Enrig. “Because we’ve both been in fights before; admittedly, we’ve normally had armour. Even armoured, having something trying to gut you makes you pay attention to the fight.”


    “I’m hoping you learnt more than how being unarmoured against a foe feels,” replied Amdirlain, and she dismissed them towards the usual courtyard. “Meditate on the tower’s lessons if the Ki won’t behave. The pouch of stones was a nice trick.”


    “How come you’re not annoyed by it?” asked Enrig. “Or by us bailing fast?”


    “Never go into a fight for your life by restricting yourself to fight on someone else’s terms. Whether it be terrain, weapons, or just dirty tricks, look for whatever advantage you can seize. When sparring with each other, it''s one thing, but part of the purpose of the constructs is so people get used to not holding back,” explained Amdirlain. Patting Enrig’s formerly wounded arm, she continued. “Also, sometimes getting out of the situation with the people you''re protecting is the best move.”


    “Thank you, Sifu,” said Callen before he headed off with Enrig in tow, only stopping long enough to collect his gear.


    They were entering the corridor when Amdirlain caught Callen’s murmured words to Enrig. “Do you think the armouring extends the exercise of following the Ki flowing through our blood to our skin?”


    Callen’s diplomatic approach to handling Enrig made Amdirlain smile.


    Tossing a mending Spell at Enrig’s shirt, Amdirlain teleported to her suite.