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


    At the end of the lesson, Cyrus stored the objects he’d used as obstacles away and departed without further discussion. Though tempted to inquire about this view of Klipyl’s enquiry about the opportunities for the villagers, Amdirlain had left it alone. Cyrus had stuck to having her cycle while moving through an easy series of obstacles, with his departure, Amdirlain flowed through one ad hoc kata after another. The loops progressed to match the speed of her attacks, blocks and swift evasions. As the gentle breeze that had wafted through the courtyard most of the day picked up, the branches of a nearby tree cast long shadows across the gravelled courtyard. With their erratic motion providing a simple tool, Amdirlain continued cycling and danced in flowing motions on the edge of their shifting positions.


    The dinner chimes had just sounded when she caught the edge of a muffled song wrapped in concealments. Though it mostly sat below the limits of Amdirlain’s former capacity, the upper limits of it blurred the individual’s presence and drew her attention deeper. The draconic energies immediately beneath the upper layer rang with crystalline orderly tones, and the regularity of their beat made it clear who’d arrived. Sarah’s lack of response made Amdirlain curious, but she continued her exercises rather than delving deeper. She almost drew her attention back when Sarah’s essence shifted focus in Amdirlain’s perception, her body suddenly became a superficial layer over the scarred beauty of the Soul within, and Amdirlain continued to track her progress.


    The guard post that had provided Klipyl directions earlier quickly sent Sarah her way, and the lack of security care made Amdirlain realise it was more a checkpoint than protection from people.


    Sarah’s swift, regular stride ate up the distance along the mountain road, yet her pace faltered with a half-step and stopped at the end of the road that led to the courtyard. For four long heartbeats, Sarah’s weight shifted back and forth, and she seemed about to leave. Just as a fifth beat started, Sarah snapped upright, yanked her shoulders back, and came on with crisp marching strides. Without stopping to knock, she pushed the courtyard gate open and found Amdirlain in a backward somersault away from a lashing shadow.


    “Going to flap your arms and use them as wings?”


    Though she already landed in a long stance, Amdirlain lifted into the air and, with her elbows tight against her sides, flapped her hands erratically. “Tweet!”


    Sarah’s tension exploded in a guffaw of laughter that was far too loud from the lameness of the display. “Goof.”


    Nervously considering Sarah’s willowy form in her figure-hugging red leathers, Amdirlain didn’t pay enough attention to her landing. The gravel crunched underfoot when Amdirlain’s weight dropped the last centimetres, and she gave Sarah a wink to distract her. “Don’t you know birds take to the skies at the littlest noises? Did you get everything sorted out?”


    “I left before we finished everything, but we were at a stopping point,” replied Sarah before she braced herself and looked Amdirlain straight in the eye. “That memory of Syl’s death mustn’t have been easy from Orhêthurin’s perspective.”


    “Oh, I got a bunch of fun memories to go with that one, and it was neither the worst nor best of them,” replied Amdirlain, and she headed for the door to her room. “Would you like to have some tea?”


    “Livia is getting you trained, is she?” asked Sarah, nervously licking her lips as she began to follow. Halfway across the courtyard, Sarah picked up Amdirlain''s arousal, but fast upon its heels came Kadaklan''s scent on her skin. Her heel ground hard into the gravel, and she half-turned. Her expression was unreadable as she waved at the gate, and Amdirlain heard her sorrow, pain and Soul deep frustration. “I…”


    The love within her burned, but with a sharp, and steely determination, Sarah pushed it to the back of her mind, and kept it hidden beneath the veil Amdirlain couldn’t pierce previously. Some of Ori’s words that had hit earlier flared with importance.


    You are everything that matters, no matter the flesh you choose to cloak your Soul within.


    Ori saw more with Resonance than she did with her eyes, and she was a far different person.


    Amdirlain focused Resonance on Sarah’s form alone, her eyesight twisted and blurred, overlaid by dimensional layers and concealments. Mentally frowning, Amdirlain shut it off and re-considered Ori’s techniques.


    “Please don’t leave. I know you’ll be smelling recent arousal, but that’s from me alone after I got caught up in one of a past life memory,” advised Amdirlain. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to tell you about those recollections. Come in, talk, and have some tea. Unlike other people around this place, you could do with nutrition. In Human form your body still requires them, even if your draconic nature would convert Mana to fulfil its needs.”


    Stop bloody rambling.


    “Not many nutrients in tea,” responded Sarah as she entered the room.


    “Antioxidants and other things, depending on the type of tea,” replied Amdirlain. “I can now hear at a molecular level how they benefit the bodies of drinkers.”


    Why can’t I just shut up about tea?


    “I’ll take your word for it,” huffed Sarah nervously.


    Amdirlain picked a corner spot on the table’s long side and motioned Sarah to sit at the end. “Are we going to keep dancing?”


    “Isn’t that what you were doing out there?” deflected Sarah quickly


    “Shadow-boxing mixed with dance,” replied Amdirlain, and she sighed. The sound spiked frustration at her inability to broach the subject and Amdirlain blurted out a question. “Did Syl know what restrictions were in place regarding Ori and promises?”


    Both feet inserted into mouth! Way to fuck things up Amdirlain!


    Sarah’s lips parted questioningly, only to halt and turn into a stern frown. “What do you mean?”


    “Do you remember the last conversation between Syl and Ori?” enquired Amdirlain. “When she was dying on the mountainside after her last hurrah.”


    “Yes,” murmured Sarah.


    “She was desperate for Ori not to be lonely, wasn’t she?” asked Amdirlain. "That is why she was so determined to extract that promise."


    “You’ve hit the nail on the head with that one,” replied Sarah. “I wish you hadn’t gotten that memory. Syl was worried Ori would kill herself to follow her into a new life.”


    “I thought so,” said Amdirlain. “I couldn’t imagine why else Syl would be so cruel to her.”


    Sarah flinched. “Cruel?”


    “Ori wasn’t thinking straight. She repeated the promise Syl had asked her to make. A promise that was cruel in the extreme if Syl knew what would happen to Ori,” clarified Amdirlain.


    “Knew what about Ori?” gasped Sarah. “What should she have known?”


    Band-aid fast. Rip it off for both of us. Please don’t let her run.


    Amdirlain sighed and reached out to clasp Sarah’s hand. “Promises were three-fold binding to Ori: by the rules, the changes she’d drawn from the Fey, and her very nature. There were no limits or qualifications in the wording. Syl got Ori to promise to find someone else to love.”


    “Syl came back,” objected Sarah, her eyes wide in disbelief.


    “There was no condition to say find someone else to love if my reincarnation won’t love you,” replied Amdirlain. “Plus, the following reincarnations were timid around Ori. Before a more assertive one came along, Ori had gotten married, and she had someone else to love for billions of years—and Ori’s promise held her that way. With each life, she also found someone else, and their first relationship stretched further and further away. Did any reincarnations lose hope in the flame rekindling?”


    “Yes. Fuck,” spat Sarah.


    “That’s usually my go-to curse word. Get your own,” grumbled Amdirlain, not able to even jest.


    Sarah waved her off. “I’m certain it’s public domain. Also, you’ve not said it in my hearing in ages, so its use is fair game now.”


    “Stupid Skill, I’m glad Femme Fatale evolved. I didn’t want to seem like I was ‘offering’ favour by using that curse word,” huffed Amdirlain, and she lightly squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Anyway, Ori screwed up by making that promise, but neither of them were thinking straight at the time.”


    “Why didn’t she just say?” asked Sarah.


    “The promise changed her nature,” explained Amdirlain. “I know we’ve discussed folktales with spirits like Kitsuné or other spirits. What happens when they make a promise?”


    “Crap!” spat Sarah. “Are any of those promises still in effect?”


    “I’ve no idea. Since I can talk about them without issue, maybe not,” said Amdirlain.


    “You didn’t have any problems at all?”


    Amdirlain shrugged tightly. “There were no barriers other than being nervous about raising the issue with you. Orhêthurin, after she stripped herself of power, remembered what had happened and knew the impact of the promise but was still bound by it. However, when the promise took effect, it was as if she always planned to find someone else to love after Syl’s death.”


    “I release you from all the promises I asked of Orhêthurin in any lifetime,” declared Sarah.


    A weight shifted and lurched deep inside Amdirlain, throwing her so far off balance that she slumped briefly against the table and carefully braced herself upright. “Fuck.”


    “Are you alright?” asked Sarah, and she quickly shifted, her hands going to Amdirlain’s shoulders to steady her on the seat.


    “Warn a girl, will you,” huffed Amdirlain, as her vertigo settled. “That felt like someone kicked me into free fall with a side order of mega tonnes of off-balance cargo tipping over a freighter.”


    “Are you going to fall off that chair if I let you go?” asked Sarah, and she seemed ready to lift Amdirlain off the chair.


    Amdirlain gently clutched Sarah’s wrists and guided her back to her seat. “I’m fine. It was a momentary thing that caught me by surprise. We still need to talk.”


    Her head tilted forward momentarily and, fighting off the urge to flee, Sarah forced herself upright and sat ramrod straight, as grim-faced as if an execution squad awaited her. Amdirlain caught the terror and despair trying to suffocate the blazing emotions inside Sarah and wanted to groan.


    I must have been crushing her heart with my grief over Torm, yet I can’t wave a magic wand and make everything just right.


    “You want the good or bad news?” asked Amdirlain.


    “Bad,” replied Sarah, with a casualness that only now Amdirlain could tell was fake.


    Though the attention of her Resonance remained fixed on Sarah, it kept dipping deeper to take in her Soul and the wonder of it. With a shaky swallow, Amdirlain continued. “I’m not suddenly magically attracted to humanoid females. Good news. I am not angry or anything else you’re afraid of, okay? I can understand why you didn’t tell me about their relationship, and you even said you didn’t want to distort my perspective, so instead, thank you for the time you’ve given me already.”


    Sarah calmly nodded, and her expression masked the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “Okay.”


    Sarah’s flesh is a magical construct with a Dragon’s body dimensionally secured away, tucked between layers of reality.


    Amdirlain’s Resonance unfurled through the dimensions and brought the perception of Sarah’s Soul to the forefront. The white-gold light blazed with beauty, yet it bore its share of marks and scars, both on the surface and deep within from all the lives it had travelled. She drew back slowly from the deep perception, and her form became a crystalline beauty that had Amdirlain’s gaze widen in surprise.


    “What is it?”


    “The evolution to Resonance-Prince, I’m still working things out, and my sight is strange right now with the Power bleeding images into my visual cortex,” Amdirlain explained, and she licked her lips before continuing. “Anyway, the power of control over promises seems to hold between lifetimes, or at least you had some right of revocation.”


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Sarah sighed in relief. “You’re free of them?”


    “I don’t know if it was that or something else,” said Amdirlain. “Yet it was certainly impactful.”


    “I remember nothing about promises binding Orhêthurin,” said Sarah.


    “Do you know who else she made promises to?”


    “Likely the three powers present when Syl was created. I know she promised me a few things in different lives, but I can’t remember her making anyone else a promise,” said Sarah. “The only time she might have promised something is when she was taken prisoner before the vines were emplaced. Anar prisoners customarily promised to behave peacefully and follow the court’s judgement when they surrender to the royal guards.”


    Me? How deeply does Sarah identify with Syl and the other lives?


    Amdirlain bit her lip and leaned forward to clasp Sarah’s closest hand. “She was a normal but powerful Anar at that point, and I’m not sure if the promise was what bound her or her desire to die.”


    “What?” breathed Sarah. “She hadn’t mentioned dying since Syl’s first death.”


    “When Ori gutted her strength, she was hoping to die straight away. It took her billions of years and the mauling from the vines but eventually she got her wish,” said Amdirlain. “No, not wish. She knew before the realm was made that she’d die.”


    With the back of her free hand, Sarah wiped tears away, but more continued to flow. “Syl didn’t want Orhêthurin dying, but then, in lifetime after lifetime, Ori was married, or it didn’t seem like the reincarnation had a chance. I remember the life that gave up and decided not to hope of anything rekindling between them.”


    “There is a lot I don’t remember, but she loved Syl fiercely,” said Amdirlain. “I’m going to be upfront. I can hear you now. I can hear how passionate and old your love for me is, and I’m sorry I was blind. That seems to be a theme for me, not seeing what’s right before me when it comes to those who love me.”


    “But that doesn’t change how you feel,” said Sarah sadly.


    You are everything that matters, no matter the flesh you choose to cloak your Soul within. I don’t know what my life would be like without her, and my desperation to find them came from that.


    “Hey, stop jumping to conclusions,” whispered Amdirlain.


    “What?” asked Sarah, and she tentatively held out a trembling, tear-stained hand.


    Amdirlain stood up, pulled Sarah from the seat, and hugged her warmly.


    When Sarah burst into tears, Amdirlain held her gently and stroked her hair reassuringly. Amdirlain could hear the unusual emotional outburst was only a tiny vent from a wellspring of pain and unreturned love that stretched back through billions of years within Sarah’s Soul. Sarah’s form felt fragile beneath Amdirlain’s touch, and the flesh wavered between crystalline and white-gold energy to her sight.


    I’m not the only one a hasty promise fucked over. Neither of us is Human. We weren’t in that first lifetime, and we aren’t now, yet still I let my Human life bind me.


    As her friend cried, Amdirlain held her and calmly waited out the storm from her usually unflappable friend. It was a half hour before the tears eased off, and Amdirlain helped Sarah clean up.


    “Gods, I couldn’t stop crying,” moaned Sarah as she scrubbed at her face unnecessarily, having already washed all traces away. “I’m sorry you got more bad memories.”


    Am I a coward for not explaining what started things off?


    “There were a bunch of memories chained together. Once the first came loose, the rest spooled out of my Soul,” explained Amdirlain.


    “A train wreck at high speed?” asked Sarah, and she winced and held up a hand to halt Amdirlain’s answer. “Stupid question. Please don’t answer.”


    “No, the first wasn’t a train wreck, and I think it was the one that taught me the most,” said Amdirlain, and with her heart in her mouth, she hurried on. “It just took me a bit to see it. Ori’s pain blotted it out for a bit.”


    “See what?”


    Don’t put your foot in your mouth.


    “I’m still processing that part. Can I hold off until I’ve got the words sorted out in my head?” asked Amdirlain, her vision showing her the interlocking layers between the Dragon and her Soul. The melody within the linkages hinted at the safer means Sarah had used to access memories. Still, Amdirlain held off wanting to study them and was wary of her previous reactions upon attempting to regain Protean through True Song.


    Sarah scrubbed her face with both hands as she nodded. “Not rushing.”


    Gee, I’d chicken out from a few words. She’s been incredibly patient, and I don’t want to hurt her. Is that the truth or an excuse?


    “How did Shindraithra end up with the nickname of Syl?” asked Amdirlain, trying to distract Sarah’s pain.


    “She was a couple of hundred years old when she told Ori how much she loved her and wanted to be with her. Ori asked if she was being a silly Dragon,” said Sarah, and cleared her throat. “Shindraithra said she’d gladly be called silly if it meant she could hold Ori.”


    A fragment of a memory tickled at the back of Amdirlain’s mind. A pure white-gold Soul blazed in her perception, showing character lines gained from battling the soulless monsters planted upon Ori’s first world.


    ‘If you are silly enough to love me, then you can be my Syl.’


    The memory of Ori’s softly spoken words sent a pleasurable shiver along Amdirlain’s spine with the aching need they carried.


    “I’d ask if someone walked over your grave, but that looked like a good shiver,” said Sarah.


    Amdirlain smiled. “It’s a day for memories to drop in for a visit, and yes, it was a good shiver.”


    The intensity of the cheerful light in Sarah’s gaze didn’t match her soft, inviting smile.


    “I don’t know if I can ever be what you want, Sarah,” said Amdirlain. “Let me get my head in order.”


    Neither Sarah’s gaze nor smile faded. “That’s a different tune to the absolute no you gave me last time we spoke. I hadn’t expected you ever to budge your position.”


    “I can hear your Soul,” whispered Amdirlain. “And that makes me question many things I thought were absolutes.”


    “Then I can wait,” said Sarah.


    Amdirlain exhaled and nervously posed a question. “How long?”


    “I’m not setting you a time limit, silly,” huffed Sarah. “Now tell me about what you’ve got planned for yourself?”


    “No, please don’t change the topic. I don’t care about any plans right now,” gasped Amdirlain, and she pressed back a surge of emotions as more vertigo tried to trip her up. “We were discussing Ori and Syl, and I’m trying not to make a mess or hurt you. It’s so tempting to chicken out, but please don’t let me.”


    Sarah swallowed and wiggled her eyebrows at Amdirlain. “Don’t let you chicken out, or don’t let you hurt me? You know I’m not a switch, right?”


    “I’d call you a beast but that’s redundant,” grumbled Amdirlain, and she concentrated on the fierce tones within Sarah’s draconic nature. “I’ve kept denying I’m Ori. Part of that has been the fear of losing myself. But I’ve used her memories like disposable trinkets I inherited and had aimed to regain her powers to ensure I was safe, but today I learnt a fraction of what she’d endured.”


    “Stop right there,” said Sarah. “You’ve got sound concealments in place?”


    “Yes,” nodded Amdirlain.


    “Since you can hear my Soul, I will say this straight up, so there aren’t assumptions about my feelings and why. I fell in love with you as Julia and still love you as Amdirlain. I’ll admit part of me wants to shake you over the situation with Ori or wishes you’d come around, but I also understand your concerns.”


    I’d thought she’d meant after we got here. Torm wasn’t the first person whose love I was too blind to see.


    “You do?”


    “Yes. While I don’t believe Ori would take over, I understand the fear of losing yourself because I did lose myself and lied about it for years,” said Sarah. “Being a Kyton.”


    Sarah shook her head violently and let out a growl.


    “Damn memories. I don’t have to tell you what it’s like to have your body continually betraying you. You had Viper to fight back against, but there wasn’t a foe for me to struggle with. You saw what you thought was my craving for pain. Yet that wasn’t the situation. For a Kyton, there is no such thing as pain.”


    “I saw you flay yourself using the energy vortex in the Elemental Plane of Earth and you certainly were feeling something,” said Amdirlain.


    “Yeah, but I wasn’t feeling pain and enjoying it. My body and mind were both experiencing pleasure because there was only pleasure, but it wasn’t limited to the physical. Every sort of injury, physical, mental or just emotional distress, whether my own or someone else’s, would trigger a pleasure response. I saw the flames that consumed me in a metal collar I was holding, and spontaneous human combustion generally only happens in stories. Given how you died, it was obvious you must have also been cursed, and there was the potential you ended up in the same place. I even thought I heard Rachel’s voice in the maze.” Sarah’s rush of words ended, and she sighed out a question. “Do you know why I avoided even thinking about looking for you?”


    “Emotionally painful, which you couldn’t feel except as pleasure,” guessed Amdirlain.


    “Exactly, I lost myself, Amdirlain. I was an addict, and you should never trust an addict. Certainly, I didn’t trust myself. Honestly, despite my love, if I’d found you helpless somewhere, I don’t know if I would have tortured you, helped you, or left you there suffering so I’d feel more pleasure from my guilt and anguish at your fate,” said Sarah. “It took meeting Gaius, who’d been coerced into selling his Soul and was petrified with fear over it before I could start to comprehend how far I was gone. Even though—conceptually—I knew how far over the line it was, I still orgasmed off his fear and provoked more. So no, I will never be angry at you for worrying about losing yourself.”


    “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” said Amdirlain.


    “Are you okay if I say something about Ori?”


    “I’ve things to talk about in regard to her as well, so go ahead while I muster my courage,” prompted Amdirlain, relieved to avoid further revelations after Sarah’s confession.


    “Don’t worry about using her memories or powers, as they are your inheritance. Please keep in mind she set the same thing in place for the Anar and Lóm?. They inherit whatever memories they can regain from their former lives. Also, Ori had set up the ability for other species besides those two to recover memories from previous lives. She likely left you a key to inherit them safely. If you don’t find other approaches yourself, try to find clues about what she left,” said Sarah.


    “I’ve had some evidence of that—a Soulscape message when I had tried to pry the vines free and caused the image of her to bleed. Also, in one memory I recalled, she told her husband about a song of attunement in her songbooks,” recalled Amdirlain. “She said if she died before she taught it, the songbooks would have revealed it. I don’t know where the songbooks got to.”


    “They might still exist on Veht?,” proposed Sarah.


    “Something to look into later,” hedged Amdirlain. “It’s a distraction now.”


    “Exactly, there will be a way, and there will be time to find it. Even if she expected to leave the realm, she couldn’t be sure what her father would do or when she’d leave. I’d advise you to take your time and feel confident you can hold on to yourself,” said Sarah. “Building up a buffer of Willpower and mental capacity to process all you’ll learn likely can’t hurt.”


    Amdirlain felt the guilt and sorrow that twisted inside Sarah and raised her hand to kiss her fingertips. A bashful reaction spiked through the links into Sarah’s Soul, but her expression remained calm. “Your Soul and mind are beautiful. You’ve got scars, some of which might come from what you survived, but they add character.”


    Taken aback by the sudden topic change, Sarah whispered. “You say the sweetest things.”


    Guilt at her unintentional voyeurism and Sarah’s misunderstanding of the scents in the room niggled at Amdirlain, and she cleared her throat.


    “I should admit I feel like an accidental voyeur at present. The reason you smelt arousal? Well, the memory that set things off was Syl’s three hundredth creation day celebration,” admitted Amdirlain, and she kept her flush to the barest darkening.


    Sarah’s smile broadened with anticipation, and Amdirlain waggled a reproving finger. “I told you I need to get my head in order, but hearing your Soul is helping give me a different perspective.”


    “Oh,” breathed Sarah. “Do you mind if I ask how much you got swept into that memory?”


    Amdirlain’s flush broke loose and burned to the tips of her ears. “Through the offer of her choice of forms and the start of the softness option.”


    “Well,” purred Sarah happily. “Did you enjoy the kisses?”


    “Within the memory absolutely,” squeaked Amdirlain. "Outside of it, I''m conflicted. I still enjoy the memory for several reasons. I''m glad for Ori that she had experienced that love and passion. It was intoxicating and unexpected. However, it''s also a large part of what I need to figure out. Physically I''m still... I mean, I loathe to use her name, but it was nothing like the sensations Viper would goad me with... it was beautiful."


    Sarah clasped her hand. “I think I know what you learned.”


    “Please don’t tease me I don’t want to guard my emotions with humour today. I know I’m still a work in progress. What I needed was the words from before they got intimate. Ori said: ‘You are everything that matters, no matter the flesh you choose to cloak your Soul within’,” quoted Amdirlain.


    Startled, Sarah’s lips parted in surprise. “That hit home?”


    “Only after you arrived, my perception still doesn’t match hers, but I can feel you through so many dimensional layers that it makes form meaningless. It’s part of what I’m trying to get my head around. The other was Custodian asking me why, when I can become any creature I want and have been things that don’t even exist, do I get hung up on the shape of flesh,” said Amdirlain.


    “So it was a transcendent experience,” teased Sarah.


    Amdirlain scowled at her, only to end up snorting in laughter at her unrepentant grin. “Honestly, I think I evolved Resonance too early to use it properly, certainly my brain doesn’t have enough capacity. That said, being able to perceive your Soul is what let me understand the truth of Ori’s words. Still, it’s difficult and I’m worried that I’ve explained it badly, and I still need time to let my thoughts and emotions, and Ori’s memories, settle. I’ve got to see if it’s a truth I can live by or something we’d regret.”


    “Thank you for explaining, and while you were a bit muddled, I can smell your sincerity,” said Sarah. With a warm smile, she lifted Amdirlain’s hand in a copy of her spontaneous gesture. However, instead of kissing only her fingertips, Sarah’s kisses caressed along their lengths until Amdirlain wanted to squirm with unexpected desire.


    “Stop, please,” gasped Amdirlain.


    Sarah immediately stopped and clasped Amdirlain’s hand between hers but gave a pleased smile whose truth ran deep. “I’ll stop any time you want.”


    “I’m trying to be better about sharing, especially since the memory of that day also belongs to Syl. Even the bad memories I recovered today taught me much about Ori. They’ve changed my view of her, and what happened, so that’s all mixed in.”


    Sarah nodded. “I’ll try my best to behave and not flirt. Take however long you need to decide what is right for you.”


    “You’re a beautiful person, Sarah,” whispered Amdirlain. “I just need to see if I can get over my hangups.”


    Her soft tone caused Sarah to blush, and that reaction made Amdirlain’s lips curl in a smile that reached her eyes.


    Sarah huffed. “Right. You’ve come clean and got me all flustered. Is there more you need to talk about regarding Ori right now?”


    “Not right now,” said Amdirlain. “I’ll let you know when I need to talk more about us.”


    Sarah exhaled softly before she nodded reassuringly. “No rush. What do you have on the agenda while settling your brain?”


    Amdirlain shrugged helplessly but didn’t stop smiling at Sarah’s rare flustered moment. “A few things. Progressing my psionics and working on two Ki techniques, one for Ki Flight and the other for Ki Blast, that use the symbolism of my sigil.”


    “Then I’ll stick around and help you with Metacreativity,” said Sarah.


    Amdirlain smiled. “I hoped you wouldn’t leave again. Let me fill you in on what Nomein and the girls have been hiding—and their racial evolution.”


    Sarah mouthed evolution but didn’t interrupt Amdirlain’s recount of Lezekus’ tale. Neither of them moved to let go of the other’s hand.