Amdirlain’s PoV - Outlands - Outpost of the Monastery of the Western Reaches


    The first technique scroll for Ki State involved layering the energies to support each other like she’d seen Master Payam use. Being familiar with multiple melody components supporting each other, the technique made perfect sense. Unfortunately, that initial success didn’t continue, and most of the scrolls contained concepts that didn’t mesh with Amdirlain’s perspective. While none of them were completely off-tune, Master Cyrus’ advice was to find one that would mesh with her existing approach and, while they came close, only two others provided the same comfortable feel—one for Ki Flight and the second for Universal Life.


    Master Cyrus frowned at the three scrolls before Amdirlain and tapped the one for Ki Flight. “That comes from the South Wind’s Court. A similar technique for Ki Movement would likely be found with them. I hadn’t expected you to take to that technique.”


    “My sigil always feels like it’s alive, as much the flames of the Phoenix,” said Amdirlain.


    “If you’ll wait here, I’ll fetch another text,” said Cyrus. “It was one that I had discounted, but given your preference for that first technique, it’s at least worth consideration.”


    Amdirlain smiled, but it failed to reach her gaze. “Only one scroll? I’ve already rejected so many.”


    “The one I want to show you is a book, but let me decide what to worry about with your consultation, Am,” instructed Cyrus. “Given your unique nature, I’m surprised we have three from this first round. If we had found only one, it would have been time well spent, as it has removed many techniques from further consideration.”


    “I guess you know me better than some people to pick so many that worked for me.”


    Cyrus shrugged modestly. “Not as well as I thought for that technique to appeal. I’ll be right back.”


    Amdirlain unrolled the Ki Flight scroll as he rose. “Is it alright if I at least look?”


    “Just ignore the instructions for now. We’ll consult with Kadaklan to assess your education for this technique. He knows the South Court and the misdirections they’d include in the works better than I do. He might even know a related Ki Flight technique.”


    With a nod, Amdirlain turned her attention to the first diagram. The ink of the finely detailed art looked fresh, almost as if recently copied, but Amdirlain could hear the years within it. Though the initial illustration showed an individual with a wireframe sigil of an eagle’s head, in each of the subsequent illustrations, the bird expanded and became whole while still contained within the subject’s flesh. The last picture showed the eagle wings barely constrained within their body as they soared past clouds, with slipstream lines to give a sense of speed.


    When Cyrus reentered the room, Amdirlain was still studying the picture. He put down a leather-bound book with an embossed cover that showed a man with a frost-rimmed tiger leaping from an outstretched hand.


    “Nice kitty?” quipped Amdirlain. “What does it eat, frosted flakes?”


    “The dramatic illustration aside, this technique might get around one of your issues with Ki Blast,” said Cyrus, the reference understandably lost on him. “And it also applies to your situation.”


    “Having an animal sigil?”


    Cyrus nodded but beckoned Amdirlain to wait. “Let’s review it first and see if it even appeals.”


    “What’s the downside?”


    “Unlike other Ki Blast techniques, it doesn’t allow for incorporation into weaponry, nor is there any evolution that combines it with another power. However, options exist to extend Ki Blast for practitioners of this technique,” replied Cyrus. “The reason will become quite clear once we go through it.”


    They were only a few minutes into the review before Amdirlain started giggling. “I have gotten Ki Blast working, Master Cyrus.”


    “The animalistic representation is both a tool for projection, but it also allows for more than that,” reassured Cyrus. “Presently, you have an issue that you can’t use Ki Blast without attracting attention in many places you must travel.”


    “The animal is a shell?” guessed Amdirlain.


    “Yes, a shell and, as with Ki Infusion, the shell can incorporate other energies that both mask what’s inside and use that Ki to fuel their manifestation,” explained Cyrus. “Since you have already evolved Ki Infusion into Ki State, I see no reason you couldn’t pick this up. There is one other aspect of this technique that you might find beneficial.”


    He turned the pages towards the middle and presented a multi-part image of the tension draining from a man’s expression as the tiger manifested—the mantra focused on casting pain forth.


    Amdirlain frowned in confusion. “Is this for a pain Dao?”


    “No, it can be used by those following any Dao if they have an animal in their sigil. The mantra’s meaning is a guide to let go of pain through projection. It combines the energy and pain into a shell around the Ki Blast to serve as a purification process,” explained Cyrus. “The mental components of the technique burn negative emotions to fuel its creation. Its creator had many past-life scars and used this technique to ease them as a Mortal and eventually obtain a true understanding of his Dao.”


    “And you didn’t even have it on hand,” Amdirlain said nervously.


    Cyrus shrugged and closed the book. “I had dismissed it. However, I thought I’d offer it after you selected another technique involving animal visualisation.”


    “Did this technique become worthless to him?”


    Cyrus huffed in amusement. “He used the technique for so long that he could manifest a massive beast with the faintest of wisps of pain. Given the length of time your Soul has been around, I don’t imagine you’ll run out of fuel soon. Also, I have some concerns about what your Pain Eater does with all you’ve experienced, and this might let you remove that backlog.”


    Concern flickered in Amdirlain’s gaze, and he started to pull the book away. As he went to place it on the cart, Amdirlain held out her hand. “I’ll try it out. Can you assist me with it, or is there another teacher we must draw on?”


    “I know the author and his codes, so I’ll be fine assisting you with this text,” assured Cyrus.


    “Do I have enough contribution points to cover the consultation fee and the texts?” asked Amdirlain.


    It was Cyrus’ turn to laugh. “I think you can afford these texts.”


    Amdirlain smiled whimsically. “If you know the technique’s creator, can you get me a signed copy? I’ve never owned a book signed by the author.”


    “I’ll ask him if he’ll indulge you,” said Cyrus. “I’m not sure if he’d care to travel here, however, so it might take a while before a personalised copy arrives.”


    “That’s okay,” said Amdirlain, and she gathered the texts.


    Cyrus took them from her and led her out through the staff shortcut. After retracing their route to the front desk, arranging copies didn’t take long. When the stern-faced Librarian brought them out, Amdirlain could sense the magic used in their creation and restrained herself from making copies for herself.


    Okay, so it was made by the Librarian with a few spells and not one of the students who are out on display copying texts, but it still helps move points around the monastery’s economy.


    Out front of the library, Amdirlain motioned questioningly at the path. “The long way or short way to Livia’s?”


    “The long way,” said Cyrus, “It goes past the training hall Head Clerk Erhi has arranged as your accommodation, so we might as well stop in there.”


    Despite the light, the streets were quiet as Cyrus escorted her; the building he led her to was very similar to the initial layout of Nolmar. It was effectively a U-shaped building with a gated wall to close off the gap. The training hall was at the far end, but the sides of the U hosted three medium-sized rooms six metres long and seven wide. Instead of matching the exterior grey stone and lacquered redwood, the interior comprised cream-coloured padded floor mats, elaborate ivory inlays in honey gold woodwork, and matching furniture. The areas to either side of the courtyard had furniture suitable for a study, while across from the wide gate was the training hall that Head Clerk Erhi had mentioned.


    As Amdirlain considered the training hall at the far side of the courtyard, a look of dissatisfaction crept across her face.


    “Is there a problem, Am?” asked Cyrus.


    “I agreed to hold teaching sessions, but my style is so fluid I’m not sure where I should start trying to teach it,” admitted Amdirlain.


    Cyrus nodded understandingly. “That is part of what will help you. By breaking it into teachable pieces, you can consider what each adds to your style. Then, contemplate whether it achieves its goal efficiently or requires changing or discarding. You may have shortcut ranking into Grandmaster, but the further you wish to grow, the more time you’ll spend critiquing your style.”


    “When is the next class you teach?” asked Amdirlain.


    “Not long from now. I’ll have to leave you shortly, but I’d like to make sure you’re settled,” replied Cyrus.


    Amdirlain patted the dimensional bags hanging from her belt. “This is all my luggage, and I don’t need hand-holding. I’ll settle in fine. I take it the rooms along the sides are typically used for discussions between seniors and novices?”


    “That is correct,” said Cyrus. “Don’t worry, they’ll already have made alternative arrangements for the lessons here.”


    “I’ll only need one room,” replied Amdirlain, and she nodded to the first on the left. “That one will do fine. If I need more space, I’ll ask Livia if increasing the interior dimensions is acceptable.”


    “The whole of the building is yours. The agreed fee is a daily lesson for general novices,” said Cyrus.


    Amdirlain grunted unhappily. “I guess I’ll spy on other classes and figure something out.”


    “Livia suggested you help with her classes. You could do that while you figure out the fundamentals to instruct,” proposed Cyrus. “I’ll ensure that the duty pavilion provides you a couple of weeks to settle in first.”


    Aware it was before the start of the monastery’s day, Amdirlain didn’t raise her voice. “No, I’ll hold a lesson in the afternoon today. It might not be much of a lesson, but I’ll teach some things to anyone brave enough to come along.”


    “If you’d like, I could send one of my seniors along to help keep things orderly,” said Cyrus. “Though I’m sure you can inspire anyone that comes along to behave and learn.”


    “But I’m someone they don’t yet know, so perhaps it would be wise to have someone direct me on the formalities for at least the first lesson,” said Amdirlain.


    “The formalities in a session are for the teacher to determine as long as a student doesn’t come to lasting harm,” corrected Cyrus. “Did your teaching places have customs?”


    “The Japanese customs for a dojo,” agreed Amdirlain.


    Cyrus shrugged. “Then teach them how you expect them to behave in your dojo. Your style doesn’t belong to the Eastern Court, but started life in a similar land.”


    “I’ll spend some time to think about it,” said Amdirlain.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    “Spend some time considering it,” said Cyrus, and his gaze flickered across the sunlit courtyard. “I’ll be off now. I still have time to meditate before the day’s start is signalled.”


    Amdirlain glanced at the golden sun overhead. “It throws things off, doesn’t it?”


    “Yet it doesn’t have the same oppressive feel that long summers in the extreme north have,” said Cyrus.


    With that, Cyrus headed off, unbothered by what the place looked like. Amdirlain entered the first room and opened the windows to the inner courtyard. The long table in the middle of the room Amdirlain moved against the outer wall, and set the six chairs that were with it along the wall to either side. Laying out the contents of the first, she considered each item and eventually sent the bag and her older swords across the planes to one of Foundry’s empty armouries. The gift from Hestia became a floor harp that Amdirlain tucked beside the table, while Anna’s orb rested between a trio of crystal blocks.


    When she set the mapping cube on the table, Amdirlain took in the lingering infernal energy that had mingled with her Ki within it to bring something greater into being. With the awareness that had grown within it still dormant, she carefully adjusted the residue but left the precise nature in place. Focused on the cube, she found maps of thousands of worlds but only the places she’d been to on each. Those regions that she had teleported between each seemed laid out with enough space between each other to account for the hops. The maps were split into sections on the planes she’d visited; each area only connected to the plane itself.


    Curious about the capacity of the intelligence she sensed, Amdirlain created a link that allowed it to draw on the set of surveyors above Qil Tris. From the cube, a merry twinkle arose, like a dozen metallic wind chimes brushed by a gentle breeze. The sound shifted energetically but settled into a cheerful hum that reminded Amdirlain of a purring kitten. Reflexively, Amdirlain touched fingertips to the cube and held back a laugh—the gesture so like the pat she’d bestowed on Custodian.


    With it happily digesting the details of the world down to its molten core, Amdirlain knelt in the centre of the room. Though she’d left Anna’s orb sitting in its makeshift stand, she started to absorb its contents. An hour later, having registered multiple increases in Physical Geography, Amdirlain received notice of a new Knowledge Skill unlocked: Planetary Biomes. Her experience with the songs of multiple planets, down to microfauna and flora, let her make great strides in understanding the lessons within the orb.


    [Planetary Biomes


    Details: This knowledge covers multiple branches of the physical sciences related to botany and a planet’s Mana impacting its life forms. The continual growth of this Knowledge will include biomes found in a greater diversity of worlds.


    Note: This is more stuff that Ori picked up before I existed. I don’t know if she learnt it instinctively from her surroundings or absorbed the knowledge the same way she did the Fey combat skills. She did get Tiamat’s memories of life coming into existence upon her body.]


    The jumps in the Journeyman ranks she’d already experienced felt like simple mental exercises compared to the impact of advancing True Song Architecture, even through the Adept ranks, so Amdirlain settled in and pushed herself harder. Even with her primary focus on the orb, after morning bells had signalled the day’s start, Amdirlain still registered Klipyl’s exit from the dwelling where she’d spent the ‘night’. Her ribbon sat tight along her whitish-blue skin, and her bluish-green hair had been fashioned into scores of braids and bound together into a single ponytail. After a long, heated kiss with roaming hands, Klipyl started up the mountain while her partner ventured down the slope towards the fields. When she got through the inner gates, playful flirting netted Klipyl a set of directions to Amdirlain’s residence.


    When Klipyl came in, she regarded Amdirlain kneeling in the centre of the room with a cheeky smile. The archon dropped to the floor with her back to Amdirlain and leant back to lay her head on Amdirlain’s thighs.


    “Are you looking to get your hair messed up?” asked Amdirlain, tugging at the end of one of Klipyl’s braids.


    Klipyl giggled and brought her hands up to protect her hair. “Don’t mess up my hair, it looks pretty. Your thighs are as comfortable a pillow as they looked. I’ve not been game to attempt it when I’ve seen Master Farhad in this position.”


    Prompted by her familiar demeanour, Amdirlain tapped Klipyl’s nose. “What have you been up to?”


    “I’ve been getting to know some students,” declared Klipyl smugly. “Every yummy millimetre.”


    “There you were, concerned about celibacy,” noted Amdirlain. “That was a non-issue?”


    “Indeed,” grinned Klipyl, waggling her head from side to side. “They’re all so focused on their paths that marriage would be a distraction, but they don’t abstain. They have a cute notion of Dao mates.”


    Amdirlain hummed curiously.


    “It’s when someone is as focused on their own Dao as you are on yours. So it’s safe to hook up and relieve the tension without concern about their expectations of marriage,” continued Klipyl.


    “Where I came from, people called it friends with benefits,” said Amdirlain.


    “Oh, I like the sound of that,” purred Klipyl. “I now have a few friends with benefits here, since I don’t follow a Dao.”


    “Glad you got to know some people,” laughed Amdirlain.


    “Oh, did I ever,” sighed Klipyl happily. “Post-sex cuddling is the best.”


    Klipyl clasped her hands before her chest and wiggled ecstatically.


    Amdirlain held back a snicker. “I believe you’ve mentioned it before.”


    “You knew it was me, didn’t you?” asked Klipyl, and she pointed towards the floor. “When I came here, I was quiet, but you knew?”


    “Yes,” admitted Amdirlain.


    Klipyl pouted and clicked her tongue. “And knew exactly what I was up to without opening your eyes?”


    “Yes.”


    Klipyl arched her back slightly to look up at Amdirlain’s face better. “Then why did you let me?”


    “There was no malice in your actions, and my niece sometimes would rest her head on my thighs while watching a show, so your behaviour had a familiar air about it,” explained Amdirlain softly. “Though she was a lot younger than you.”


    “A show?” questioned Klipyl.


    “Like a play but viewable in the house through something akin to scrying magic, you could say,” replied Amdirlain.


    Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic; wasn’t that what an author proposed? What happens when your technology level involves genuine magic?


    “Did you not have enough seats in your house?”


    Amdirlain laughed. “It ?occurred only when there was a big gathering at someone’s place. My immediate family was small, but my extended family was much bigger.”


    “How much bigger?”


    “My parents were from a religion with a reputation for large families. My dad had four siblings and my mother eleven,” said Amdirlain.


    Klipyl hummed curiously. “Your parents’ siblings were all married?”


    “Yes, with children of their own. Dad used to joke we should hire a place for get-togethers so no one would have to clean up their house,” offered Amdirlain.


    “I don’t understand Mortal families. I find them strange.”


    “That’s okay. I found the pride arrangements on Qil Tris strange. Though once I understood them, I appreciated them,” said Amdirlain.


    “Is that part of why you lived in one of their cities, to get to know them?”


    “Not exactly, but it ended up occurring simply from the time I spent talking with people,” said Amdirlain.


    “So if I want to understand families, I should spend time with some?” asked Klipyl.


    Amdirlain glanced down and caught Klipyl’s gaze. “Do you want to understand families?”


    Klipyl paused thoughtfully. “Isa said that growing up, you three were more inseparable than family, even when you argued. I wondered what it would be like to have a life like that. Weird, right?”


    “It’s not weird,” reassured Amdirlain. “I’ve sometimes wondered about many things I never got to try.”


    “Like sex?” chirped Klipyl.


    Amdirlain roared with laughter and rubbed a hand across Klipyl’s face. “I got called a brat yesterday. I don’t know what that makes you.”


    “Loveable!” yelled Klipyl, and she threw her arms out wide and let them flop to the ground, not even attempting to push Amdirlain’s hand away.


    “I was thinking of a strange and annoying kid sister,” countered Amdirlain.


    Klipyl slapped the floor excitedly. “I’m getting adopted?”


    “More like a stray cat who adopted me,” huffed Amdirlain.


    “Just like Livia? I’ll take it,” cried Klipyl, and she grabbed Amdirlain’s hand and slipped off to one side to see Amdirlain again. “Hello, big sis boss.”


    “Hello, Kli. I’m glad you’re in a good mood,” said Amdirlain.


    “You’re not?”


    Amdirlain shrugged. “A contemplative one.”


    “About?”


    “Memories from an old life?”


    “What are you thinking about them for?” asked Klipyl. “Don’t you just have them or not, like Isa?”


    Amdirlain shrugged. “I’m trying to decide what to do about them. I’m sure I could get many more if I tried.”


    Klipyl returned the shrug. “Then why don’t you?”


    “I don’t know who I’d end up,” said Amdirlain.


    “You’re not doing anything about them because you’re afraid of them?” questioned Klipyl, and she lifted an eyebrow.


    “I’m afraid of who I might become, or at least, how much of myself I’ll lose,” said Amdirlain. “There are billions of years of memories inside my Soul. Some of those I’ve recovered have been pleasant, but I’ve got far more unpleasant ones out of it.”


    Klipyl wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t who you become in your control? Even if you recover all the memories, they’ll still filter through who you are now. My memories from the Abyss and being on the Material Plane as a Succubus are gross, but they show me how I’ve grown and changed. The cravings and the emptiness make me feel sorry for who I was then, but it also shows me how much brighter the future is now.”


    “You’re a glass-full kinda person, aren’t you?” asked Amdirlain.


    “I don’t know what you mean,” replied Klipyl.


    Amdirlain created a litre stein made from glass so Klipyl could see it was empty. The notification for a single experience point didn’t credit either Class because of Gidoen’s rounding down and, holding back her snort, Amdirlain dismissed it.


    “That’s a massive glass. Does that come with booze? Don’t go serving mortals hard spirits in that,” chirped Klipyl. “Not unless they’re dwarves. Humans are certainly a lot more delicate.”


    “I was going to ask if you saw it as empty or full,” said Amdirlain.


    Klipyl shrugged and extended a hand to claim the glass. “It’s full of air and can be filled with booze. What’s not to love?”


    Amdirlain released the stein.


    Klipyl flashed a broad grin and clutched it to her chest. “Mine?”


    “You can have it if you want it,” confirmed Amdirlain. “There’s nothing extraordinary about it.”


    The stein disappeared into Klipyl’s storage ring. “You made it to show me an example. That makes it special!”


    “I guess that’s one perspective on it,” said Amdirlain.


    Klipyl’s smile hadn’t faded, and she tweaked Amdirlain’s cheeks. “What are you doing in here brooding?”


    “I was thinking, not brooding,” corrected Amdirlain.


    “Your stressed expression makes it brooding,” asserted Klipyl. “You get furrow lines when you brood that aren’t there when you’re just planning something.”


    Amdirlain blinked. “I do?”


    “Yep, you had the ‘boss lady is grumpy with the world heavy furrow lines going on,” replied Klipyl.


    “I agreed to something, and now I’m unsure how to approach it,” explained Amdirlain, her lips pursing as she considered the issue again.


    Klipyl beckoned her to continue. “Lay it on me. Wait! Who is it for? Maybe I shouldn’t be told.”


    “It’s not secret, it’s for the monastery,” said Amdirlain. “I’ve agreed to give daily lessons regarding my fighting style.”


    “You fight well, so what’s the problem?” asked Klipyl.


    “My major experience as a teacher was for a far simpler style that was as much a sport as a type of combat training,” explained Amdirlain.


    “Do you use any of the attacks from it?”


    “At times,” admitted Amdirlain.


    Klipyl rolled to her feet. “Show me. Maybe show me how you used to teach and then show me the attacks you use now? It’ll still work even though I’m not a Monk, right?”


    “Of course it will,” confirmed Amdirlain, and she flowed upright.


    “You started to teach the folks at Xaos how to fight. What’s wrong with teaching these folks the same lessons?” asked Klipyl. “Is it because they’re monks, and you think they’ll know more?”


    “They do have access to better styles,” demurred Amdirlain.


    Klipyl snickered. “Who says they’re better? They certainly know more, but some styles include lots of kicking, and others pinning people to the ground. Yours is a mix of things, but maybe someone will appreciate its balance compared to the others they’ve learned. Or maybe they’ll take pieces of it and combine them to make something new. How many places have you learned to fight from? You were going to ask me to be your test subject for your constructs, why not have me be your test subject for teaching your hand-to-hand style?”


    “It’s not only different, but it also uses my ability to transform,” explained Amdirlain.


    “Then don’t focus on that part. Focus on attacks you can use in a humanoid form,” advised Klipyl, and she wiggled her eyebrows. “Are you going to show me the positions you love the most?”


    Amdirlain groaned but moved to stand a double arm’s length in front of Klipyl. “I’ll take you through the simple form of each. For elves, humans, and orcs, you’ll find the most delicate spots along or just off the centre line of the body—nose, throat, base of sternum, stomach, and groin.”


    “Mouth?”


    “I normally would say don’t punch someone there as you’d risk splitting your knuckles on their teeth, but that’s not so much an issue for you,” said Amdirlain.


    Klipyl bobbed her head merrily. “Okay, so we’ll stick with what you’d teach mortals.”


    Amdirlain jabbed two fingers out at eye level.


    “How hard do I hit their eyes?” questioned Klipyl after she repeated the motion.


    “Depends if you want to discomfort the target or pop their eyeballs. Some people find that unkind, but I don’t play by those rules,” said Amdirlain.


    “What rules do you play by?”


    “When I’m fighting, there are no rules except to win,” said Amdirlain. “Eye gouging, punches to the throat, whatever it takes.”


    “Because when you’re fighting, it’s life and death, yours or someone else’s,” observed Klipyl. “Though not a technique to bother with when facing an undead, loads of demons wouldn’t like their eyes being popped.”


    Klipyl grew an elongated talon from her first two fingers of each hand and pistoned a dozen strikes before Amdirlain nodded.


    With her hand lifted, Amdirlain showed Klipyl how to form a fist in the required fashion. “When punching, the goal is to drive the force through the first two knuckles of your hand with each punch. Copy me, please.”


    Strikes, punches, and kicks progressed into blocks in a lesson that ran nearly two hours. As the second bell of the morning sounded, Amdirlain called a break. Though neither was tired, she had her own meditations to undertake.