Amdirlain’s PoV - Foundry
Despite her uncertainty, Amdirlain recorded the melodies for Claughuthruuazex’s demi-plane. She contemplated pushing True Song Architecture when the Alliegiance Bond she still held with Sarah hummed. An image came from Sarah of her working hard to keep up with a gliding Claughuthruuazex, who looked far more at peace than when he’d been resting in his lair. ‘I’ll tend to his list and let you know if there are idiots that warrant a smack. Idiot kid thinks I didn’t remember how much I loved him.’
Amdirlain created stacks of paper near the pavilion table, which caught Silpar’s curiosity. “Writing the compositions helps me stabilise this Skill’s insights and sometimes gets me new ones.”
“Don’t let me distract you,” replied Silpar as he settled on the bench across the table from her.
Amdirlain created variations of the biome she’d composed on the fly for aerial and aquatic environments. Altering the songs of species she’d heard on various worlds and in the Abyss, they ranged from serene to brutally hostile. Though a day of work netted her only a single increase, possibilities that had teased at her while composing the biome for Claughuthruuazex made more sense when she was done. After she added the final symphonies into the same crystal that held the first aerial biome, Amdirlain disposed of her work notes.
“Let’s get going,” said Amdirlain as she rose and opened a Gate to an arid landscape.
Silpar flowed upright and joined her without question. Gideon’s list took them through hundreds of planets, and though Amdirlain sometimes worked out improvements, she stuck to the list. The only improvisations she put into effect were to allow the music to guide her dancing and to stretch out True Song’s reach. The notification of Claughuthruuazex’s death came in the third week, and a spike of sadness added fuel to the fire that drove her.
“I’m going to do this faster and challenge myself more,” said Amdirlain. “Let’s return to Foundry.”
Jumping them back to Foundry, she opened gates to three worlds on her list and simultaneously performed the compositions for them. Even as their pieces wound down, she opened more gates. The complexity of the work and the scope promised considerable strain for her, so Amdirlain lifted into the air and ignited Phoenix’s Rapture. Halfway through the melodies, blood leaked from her skin only to vaporise in her aura as she pushed ahead with the performances for twelve worlds at once. Despite the damage to her health, she forged ahead and threatened her stacked Pain Eater’s limits. She danced mid-air as if on solid ground, and every motion of her taut limbs cast music across a world to which she’d opened windows.
More gates opened, and months of continual effort without rest followed. Phoenix’s Rapture was almost continually on to keep the work’s toll from eroding her health to dangerous lows.
When at last Amdirlain stopped, Silpar raised a finger in enquiry. “Your aura being on helps you restore yourself? Were those songs causing you that much injury that you needed it continually?”
[True Song Genesis [S] (157->158)
Phoenix’s Rapture [G] (49->50)
Dance [S] (197->198)
True Song Architecture [S] (135->136)]
The Dance Skill is so close. Do I push it over with points or continue to challenge it? No, True Song Architecture is what is lagging. It needs points. Do I risk it with my new Mental Hardening? Was that what he was implying when he spoke about shortcuts? How many years of work will it take to get True Song Architecture to Grandmaster if the insights become more challenging to gain?
Amdirlain dismissed the notification and considered what to share. “The more I compress my performance of a composition, and the wider the net I cast with each, the greater the toll it takes from my health. That doesn’t matter to me in this work since I can allow myself time to recover from it if I get too low. The important part is to challenge my abilities as much as possible.”
“How much danger was that putting you in?” enquired Silpar, his brow still furrowed.
Amdirlain gave a nonchalant shrug. “I never got below half health.”
“To you, health is just another resource like your Mana?” questioned Silpar curiously.
“My health is a renewable resource that I’ll abuse, but I’ll not treat anyone else that way,” corrected Amdirlain.
“Perhaps not intentionally, but you’ve got the potential to serve as a good or awful example,” observed Silpar. “It looked like Gailneth had pushed herself hard. I’d suggest it is something to consider around others who can hear your songs and might see how neglectfully you treat yourself to achieve your goals.”
Amdirlain frowned and clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “Yet you don’t seem bothered by wounds received in sparring.”
“They are momentary lessons to teach you to do better. Your injuries while singing drag on for days,” said Silpar.
“True Song is more powerful, but it comes with a price. However, the better I get, the less damage I’ll endure from the same work,” clarified Amdirlain. “Is your sense of wonder outweighed by your concern now?”
Silpar shook his head. “No, but I have concerns about whether it’s good for you as an individual to undertake it at such a pace.”
“Advice you’d give to a Mortal?”
“Yes,” said Silpar.
“Well, if you think what I’ve been doing is risky, I’m sure you’d find those I’ve already taken appalling,” remarked Amdirlain. Her glance flickered over the mana-rich lichen now visible through one Gate, and Amdirlain shrugged. “Or the ones I’m getting closer to taking.”
“Do I even want to know what that is?”
Feeling her health restored, Amdirlain shut down her aura and appeared near the pavilion table. “Lots of writing while I feel like my brains are trying to leak out my ears.”
Her glib reply drew a sigh of concern from Silpar. “Do you hate yourself?”
The question gained a surprised blink, and Amdirlain tilted her head. “Why do you ask that?”
“Many people will push their limits to improve, but you don’t merely push your limits,” observed Silpar, and he floundered momentarily as he sought the right words. “You brutalise your limits, torturing yourself with how far you can go.”
“If you knew why I pushed myself, you’d understand,” stated Amdirlain emphatically, and she created a dimensional pocket with millions of sheets of paper within it.
Silpar huffed. “Then help me understand so that I might better support you.”
“True Song Architecture is the worst Skill to push,” grumbled Amdirlain.
“Why change the subject?”
Amdirlain almost told him the truth but held herself back from discussing the realm’s wound. “For now, I’ll ask you to take it on faith that Bahamut lined you up to help me for an important reason. My current problem involves getting True Song Architecture to increase. Each point it goes up pours knowledge into my head like molten metal from a blast furnace. It’s one thing when I receive that knowledge through insights, but the last time I forced it, the experience was brutal.”
As Amdirlain dropped two points at once into the Skill, Pain Eater flared to life, warning her of the impact she’d inflicted on Mental Hardening. Though she didn’t expect it, the double echo of information that had risen from within her Soul was both agonising and welcome.
[True Song Architecture [S] (136->140)
Mental Hardening [M] (32->38)]
It seems that things are still echoing up from Orhêthurin’s life. If it keeps up, I’ll have Skill points left over. That’s if I can handle the process.
As principles she hadn’t yet encountered rampaged within her mind, Amdirlain started composing as fast as her pencil would move. The sheer pace of her efforts at times set the paper ablaze. As the sheets filled with compositions mounded around her, it seemed like a million sheets wouldn’t be sufficient to settle the influx of new information and connections that had hit her. With it feeling like the inner secrets of the realm were unfolding razors inside her brain, Amdirlain pushed on, even ignoring Roher and Isa’s arrival. Roher trawled through the discarded sheets and additional notation to a sheet and crossed out others. Moving across the table from Amdirlain, he set it in her peripheral vision, and more insights bloomed behind her eyes.
Roher brought up a flurry of illusions to display the notes of various symphonies. Amdirlain altered the ones he’d displayed and threw out a dozen on related tangents. The air came alive with glowing symbols as they bounced music between them, and the insights Amdirlain had sought to stabilise continued to flow. Whenever Roher needed a break, Amdirlain returned to the table to write more compositions.
When, at last, her frenzy of activity died down, Roher looked haggard. “Did you consider perhaps asking for help?”
Picking up a sheet that had fallen to the floor during Amdirlain’s last round of solo composition, Isa giggled. “No, please, this is Am. Classic Julia; must be in control and find the answers.”
“I need to get the Skill to Grandmaster for the next Prestige Class option,” huffed Amdirlain. She closed her eyes and listened to the musical concepts still humming in her skull.
“The Class, Sarah says, is only theoretical. It’s just the progression of the other rude Class names finally settled into something you found appealing and offered an insight,” corrected Isa lightly.
“Why are you here and not with Sarah?”
Isa snorted. “I’ve been here a month, and you finally think to ask that question? You and Roher were off in la la land, writing beautiful music. You could have let him go home occasionally for more than a quick reverie. Ilya and Sarah are tracking down a bunch of Dao encampments on a world. How far did you two composing maniacs get?”
Shaking his head, Roher huffed. “We’re the maniacs? That is very rich coming from you. I know some of the outrageous bets you’ve made.”
Isa spread her arms wide and smiled innocently.
The exaggeration had Amdiralin regard her suspiciously. “Who have you been shocking?”
“Just getting some Lóm? to relax and live life a little,” laughed Isa.
“Now I’m torn between curiosity and being mortified on their behalf,” sighed Amdirlain.
Isa guffawed. “Little miss walking around naked.”
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Amdirlain shrugged helplessly. “Minor detail.”
Roher stood and stretched with an exhausted yawn. “Can we continue this in our settlement?”
Precognition clawed along Amdirlain’s spine, and she reluctantly shook her head. “Not at this time. I kept my distance because I didn’t know what I might give away.”
“If you want to contribute to any singing, just match me instead of flexing your strength,” suggested Isa. “Though most of it is already done.”
“I’ve already got enough issues dealing with the Fallen at the cloister and their perspective of me. I don’t want to slip up at either location because I find your settlement too comfortable,” said Amdirlain. “We can reduce the amount of time you spend here helping me. You’ve already saved a lot of time and provided insights I’d not have achieved without investing more effort.”
“Very well, I can understand your wanting to keep your talents hidden,” agreed Roher. “Perhaps when you’re free of the Fallen state.”
“Speaking of things hidden,” murmured Amdirlain, and she teleported the container to the nearby training platform. “Claughuthruuazex gave me these before his passing.”
Isa winced. “I remembered meeting him as Mori.”
Moving to the platform, she opened the container, and Roher joined her with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. He examined the contents awhile before he spoke. “I sense nothing from the objects. It’s as if they don’t exist. I’ve never seen an orrery made of True Song Crystal displaying a solar system like this. Ours normally project an illusion accompanying an echo of the system’s song, and one using gears is strange. The harp detailing is ancient, and the crystal ornaments around the table look like they detach.”
Isa poked the edge of one and caused it to pop up atop the orrery. “Yep, they do.”
Before Amdirlain could gather the crystal, the central orb representing the sun flared, and the loose crystal floated upwards. It hung above the white sun, and the crystal structure of the model ran like wax and regrew to show a system with four planets and a large asteroid belt. Once the change was complete, the loose crystal floated back to settle in its slot.
“True Song Crystal shouldn’t do that,” murmured Roher.
Amdirlain bit her lip, and Roher glanced at her suspiciously.
Isa shrugged. “It is just looping energy. Why can’t that energy shift between forms? It looks like Ori was a skilled and tricky girl. I approve.”
“I can’t hide the crystal as she did, but I set up a transformation effect so weapons adjust their size,” admitted Amdirlain.
Isa laughed and clapped loudly.
Roher rubbed a hand across his forehead before he turned his attention back to the orrery. “I wonder if that’s all they do. Have you tried to attune to any of them?”
“This is the second time I’ve looked at the contents, and I’ve not even risked touching any of it,” said Amdirlain, and she looked at Isa.
“Sorry, not sorry,” laughed Isa.
Having recently directed those exact words at Gideon, Amdirlain slowly shook her head.
“Perhaps it is best to put it away for now,” suggested Roher. “I’m sorely tempted to try to play that harp.”
After she sealed the container, Amdirlain teleported it back to the concealed storeroom.
“You learnt one thing today: the crystals hold some sort of information or a key to the model,” said Isa.
Roher snorted. “Hopefully, you’ll recover memories to discover its potential. There are far easier ways to set up a reconfigurable solar system presentation than True Song Crystal and gears. Whatever it can do, I’m sure it’s not limited to what we saw today.”
“Ask Sarah when she’s done with the Dao,” proposed Isa. “She might share that secret since you’ve gotten your mitts upon the goodies.”
Stepping close, Amdirlain rested a hand on Roher’s shoulder. “Are you still okay keeping my situation a secret from your wife?”
“I know her well enough that being unable to discuss it with others would drive her crazy. It would be like a puzzle she couldn’t solve, irritating her to the point others would notice,” explained Roher. “I’ll be back after rest and spending some time tending to my duties. I assume you will continue with this deluge of information that Gideon provides?”
“Yes,” replied Amdirlain.
Roher smiled and held out a hand to her. “Do you have a memory crystal on you?”
Amdirlain frowned and created one straight onto his palm.
“You tormented poor Gail with a puzzle box, so now let me return the favour,” said Roher, and he focused on the crystal.
Though Amdirlain was tempted to read the rush of thoughts he pushed into it, she behaved until Roher handed it over. “A few thousand layers including some elements to provoke insights and challenge your mastery of the material. It will hopefully keep you busy for a few days while I recover and plan a schedule to assist.”
“I don’t think there are enough layers in the crystal,” quipped Amdirlain.
Snorting, Roher disappeared, and Isa was still laughing when the music of a summoning enfolded her. “Bye-bye.”
When Isa vanished, Amdirlain settled at the table with the memory crystal.
“I take it there is more to your situation than simply being an Anar’s Soul inside your Fallen state,” said Silpar.
"Yes," murmured Amdirlain. “Orhêthurin was the only one capable of True Song who didn’t abandon the Titan’s work. She retained capabilities stripped from others, and I seem to be growing towards them.”
Silpar sat down across from her. “Is it related to why Bahamut recruited me to help you?”
“Only vaguely,” said Amdirlain, and she waggled the memory crystal. “I’m going to get started on this now.”
After expanding her paper supplies, Amdirlain got busy and blazed her way through Roher’s puzzle. He still hadn’t returned when she spent the next set of points and frantically began composing. The pressure increased with each point she spent on the Skill, but it couldn’t overcome the stacked effects of Phoenix’s Rapture and Mental Hardening. As promised, Roher visited regularly in the months it took her to push True Song Architecture to Grandmaster. His notes on her work provoked repeated insights and, more than once, a cascade of memories containing songs Ori had used flooded forth along with the related knowledge.
One memory chain featured Ori creating a world, and the mass of information breached Amdirlain’s Mental Hardening. In her agony, Amdirlain wished she would pass out. Instead, she continued to write, grasping only fragments of the world’s formation. Musical notation filled millions of pages, her hand a blur while she strove to get her thoughts, Gideon’s shared knowledge, and Ori’s memories in order.
The understanding she gained in the process moved Resonance along as well. Her greater understanding of the pieces let Amdirlain see how more things worked about her beneath the layers of what others saw as reality.
[Phoenix’s Rapture [G] (66->67)
Mental Hardening [M] (75->76) ]
True Song Architecture needs twenty-one more points, but each is taking longer to stabilise. Still, that will only cost me maybe seven more points between Roher’s help and Ori’s memories wanting to bubble up. I’ve only spent seventeen points, not the fifty-two I expected to get this far.
“You should take a break,” proposed Roher. “Though I can see it in your eyes you want to push ahead. At the rate the last few increases have taken you this way, you’re going to be another five or six years doing this, if not longer.”
“What?” gasped Amdirlain. “How can you tell?”
“You’ve been murmuring them aloud. Do you want to know how many years it’s been since you left Qil Tris? Between your various training sessions and Gideon’s work,” enquired Roher.
Amdirlain blinked. “Years?”
"Yes, years, nearly six," murmured Sarah, and Amdirlain snapped her gaze around. Hovering on the opposite side of the pavilion to the training platform, a massive stone bowl a half kilometre across had been added to the demi-plane. The expanse was filled with coins of gold and platinum and items of mithril and adamantine that Sarah was lounging upon, nearly taking up the entire space.
"Isa made a bed for me while you fried your brain. Why is the passing of years a surprise? You spent eleven months on Gideon''s list the first time, another six before this exercise started, and months studying texts in the Abyss. Though most of the time spent was pushing this Skill," finished Sarah. "Claughuthruuazex’s hoard has been sorted out. I cheated and hired some well-ordered individuals to help with the distribution. No complaints left to arbitrate—an advantage of outsourcing those to an entity everyone knows will follow the rules precisely."
“You moulted?” asked Amdirlain, and she scrubbed her fingers across her scalp to refocus her mind.
“The Dao’s towns and cities gave lots of experience, one Tier 7 and two Tier 6 classes before my moult,” reported Sarah.
With her attention drawn to Sarah, Amdirlain realised Sarah wasn’t the only one whose presence she hadn’t responded to—Isa and Ilya were both present.
Amdirlain laced her fingers behind her neck and cracked it from side to side. “When did you get back?”
Sarah yawned. “I’ve been coming and going the last month. There is a lot involved with that Skill, and your brain has been busy. You’re trying to punch through hundreds of doctoral courses in a few years of study. What provoked this sudden rush?”
“Gideon made a crack about me having short-cut a dozen steps after I made the biome for Claughuthruuazex’s demi-plane,” explained Amdirlain. “Then, after months of singing and composing extra variations of the songs he provided, I only made three increases. I decided to take the chance he was dropping hints about another shortcut since I’d gained all the Mental Hardening from dealing with the Eldritch.”
“They certainly knew where your thoughts would go,” admitted Sarah. “Why are you no longer pissed at their apparent manipulation of you?”
“It’s like the Koans. Gideon doesn’t want to tell me and have me deny it. They want me to think about things and accept what’s around me,” replied Amdirlain.
Sarah laughed. “Instead of telling you what to do, he pokes fun at you for not seeing things, and you think that is better?”
“I’ve ignored them when I disagreed or had other plans,” replied Amdirlain. “I didn’t say it was a good relationship. They’ve certainly worked hard to push my buttons. The flip side is I’m sure I’ve frustrated them, as they can see the answers I’m looking for, but they’re not allowed to tell me.”
Silpar looked back and forth between them, his confusion growing, and Isa laughed. “You’ve left your mentor in the dark?”
“Isa, you’ve become far too relaxed about secrets since you got free from your curse,” said Amdirlain.
Isa grinned as surprise bloomed on Silpar’s face. “We were friends in our Mortal lives.”
Amdirlain huffed. “And there you go. Sharing more.”
“You were all cursed?” gasped Silpar.
Amdirlain motioned to herself, Isa and Sarah in turn. “The same sick individual cursed each of us individually. However, the wording of their curses was different, so while Isa and Sarah are free, mine is more complicated to resolve.”
“Might I know what you endured?” asked Silpar.
“I got cursed to endure the wrath of the Erinys’ arrows or something,” offered Isa.
Sarah grunted. “Don’t talk about mine.”
“Fine,” grumbled Isa.
Amdirlain rose and stretched from habit rather than any need. The detailed knowledge inherent to True Song Architecture amplified the effects of Resonance and made it hard to concentrate. “I’ll cycle for a time and then handle some more of Gideon’s list.”
Roher nodded. “It would be good to take a break. You’ve crammed the progress of centuries into too short a time.”
“Ori seemed to have an innate talent for it. When her memories rise, I feel like I miss more than I understand,” grumbled Amdirlain. Sitting cross-legged with her back against one of the pavilion pillars, she started to cycle. The golden feathers soon blazed beneath her skin, and Roher tilted his head in contemplation at whatever song he heard.
Only Sarah and Silpar were still present when Amdirlain stopped cycling and opened her eyes. Emptying her accumulated Ki into the crystal, she turned her attention to their current discussion of enchantments and wards.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” quipped Sarah.
Amdirlain snorted. "People''s arrival didn''t even register while I was pushing True Song Architecture. That''s dangerous."
"The same thing happened last time you pushed it too hard. The flood of information and possibilities drowns out what''s around you," reminded Sarah.
Amdirlain sighed in admission and gave a sheepish smile. "It''s why I pushed it here, not even in Xaos."
"Sarah explained your Skill points and profiles while you were progressing. Do you think this is Gideon''s way of helping you regain the status from your former life?" asked Silpar.
"No, there are other ''Hidden'' around and who have access to them as well," explained Amdirlain. "There was at least one Named Demon who had been a Hidden for far longer than I''d been in the realm. He later lost his battle against his demonic shell. After Ebusuku became a Solar, she and the others that entered my service also gained access to profiles and Skill points."
Silpar''s tail slowly swayed and rasped along the pavilion''s stone floor. "How, as a Fallen, did you manage to have angels serving you?"
"I''d prefer not to go into what was involved," grumbled Admirlain.
Sarah laughed. "Ebusuku already told me you had to push through an agonising resistance to get the option allowed."
"You have a strange relationship with pain," observed Silpar.
"No, it''s easy to understand when you know her," interjected Sarah.
Amdirlain glared at her. "Hush you."
Sarah raised her head from the treasure pile she''d been using as a pillow, and the motion caused the light to shift wildly off her faceted scales. "I wasn''t going to say anything strange, and it just goes to the basics of pain itself."
"Really?" muttered Amdirlain.
"Pain is the body''s warning signal to tell you something is wrong and that perhaps you should not do whatever you''re doing. Amdirlain doesn''t let anything tell her what to do once she''s made up her mind," stated Sarah. "She has her goals. If pain wants to get in the way, it can forget it."
Scratching at her ear, Amdirlain turned to Silpar. "That''s far too accurate. Would you spar with me for a time, Silpar? After that, I likely should handle whatever work has been added to Gideon''s list."
Silpar rose, and the pair moved to the platform while Sarah looked on. As the music within Silpar shifted tempo, Amdirlain felt herself smoothly adjusting.