Abbot Eiriol.
21st of Quintetas, 1492.
01:11.
***
27 days.
Amun took 27 days of unyielding focus to open the 3rd and 4th Ki Ponds and link them into a circuit. It was remarkable, for every senior monk in these Halls knew only Etan and, long ago, his father had achieved such a feat.
Each meditative cycle required him to empty his ki from his ponds while constantly gathering more to replace what was lost, cycling it into his beads to be stockpiled until they grew to the size of stones and shattered in a great blast of energy; seemingly.
Into dust, their surfaces crumbled, reducing the beads to their original size, ready to be expanded again. On the other hand, the energy was guided under the monk's focus to merge with their stream of ki, condensing it over time.
Cycle after cycle, the density of ki increased in his Meditation Hall. Each additional cycle saw the volume of ki increase in the Focus Chamber, greatly increasing the flow of energy into Amun to the point that his ponds overflowed and eventually converged inside his spiritual network.
27 long days.
The time was not all spent waiting, however. The clerics, priestesses, and matrons distanced themselves evermore while the Troupe became more open with each other and me. Even stranger was how they treated this place as if it was their home. Not only did Freki put up a tent in the waiting area but Sam did too; right next to his and with so much traffic between them I just had to look.
Rather than going myself, I sent Sorn to take a look. I followed when he failed to return after an hour. Inside, I found him feasting on hefty plates set before him by Sam while Freki pulled all sorts of ales and wines from seemingly nowhere. Dozens more individuals whom I'd never met were spread all about them, scattered across a grassy field that seemed more vast than even the Halls in which the tent was pitched.
I pretended I never saw Sorn, for other happenings were going on and my curiosity had been verily piqued. Every member of the Troupe did something throughout that time. Most seemed to scavenge the Halls for various resources. Iris sent her dog of metallic flesh to consume the weapons and gear left by the dead. Reina took the dead into her roots, leaving their trinkets on the ground. The goblin Leary formed towering mounds of bone for some unknown purpose. Rickley and Wilson seemed intent on foraging; one for poisonous mushrooms and the other for alchemical ingredients.
On the other hand, three were mostly absent throughout that time. While Sam mostly stayed within the Halls, training and cooking; Blude and Redd often went elsewhere. To where, was my best guess, as they always fell into some small puddle or pond and disappeared for hours. Sometimes even days. For Geri, it was once a tenday. And while there was at least some indication of Blude's work coming in from the scouts, they only saw Geri again once she decided to appear in the Halls with a cohort of large canines.
Uncannily, she reappeared just hours before Amun unceremoniously formed his circuit between the 3rd and 4th natural Ki Ponds and emerged completely mummified. But the climax had yet to come.
I was on approach when Amun stepped out of his meditations and withdrew his lair stone. It seemed ordinary, yet he looked at it with trepidation. The memory of his comment when we discussed this step flashed in my mind just before it left his hand, auspiciously widening my eyes just as Amun's frame began to shimmer.
His hidden, most eldritch visage flickered into sight before it was obscured by a deluge of vibrant energy flowing into that tiny stone. Arcana, it appeared to be, yet I sensed absolutely nothing. It was only due to my former class that I had the wisdom to understand that the divine worked subtly; in ways that saw the lair stone spread its essence throughout the chamber like any other, but I knew something happened to it; even without Amun muttering. "Fuck."
It had been reformed into an armband by the time I arrived. Yet Amun was still gazing at it blankly. Choosing not to give the prying eyes what they desired for once, I bowed to Amun in commendation of his efforts, then waited for Etan to resume his instruction.
"You must have received the first stage of the Transcendental Movement Perk at the Fifteenth Step, as well as the second and third stages at steps Sixteen and Seventeen," Etan stated, raising his leg as if to step up the air itself. As his foot fell, ki projected from his foot with enough precision and power form into a solid plate that allowed him to walk toward the ceiling as if he were climbing stairs.
"The first perk allows you to do this once. An ability humans commonly refer to as the double jump." He gestured to his ki on his final steps before allowing the flow of ki to stream from his body, keeping him suspended in the air. "the second involves walking or standing on your ki. Demonstrate your proficiency in this second technique and the third. Flight. Something you are already well versed in."
I thought Amun would give us a simple show and tell, as he did before. And though he did, it wasn't without its curiosities. For starters, his brow rose curiously when Etan mentioned flight. Then he turned to jump, failing a few times to 'double jump' a few meters in the air until Etan approved of his skill. Rather than allowing himself to fall, however, he displayed the second stage of the perk by landing in mid-air and turning to face the several hundred undead he raised with his ki, left behind by the disappearance of his meditation hall.
When he bowed to them, they bowed back. When he rose to his full height, they erected their decayed frames. So too did they settle into a relaxed stance just after he did. Standing on the balls of their feet, they mirrored his movements, shuffling their legs before delivering a rapid flurry of punches to the empty air; and in doing so, several hundred necrotic embers ignited in their eyes. A closing bow made those embers burn slightly brighter. Yet they were dim compared to the ethereal fires that soon burned from Amun.
Blue-green like his arcana, the release of his energy did not wreath his body in the ethereal fires of ki as ours did. It swelled around his form, thickened, and wove itself into a vibrant hooded robe that shrouded his visage in primordial darkness and soundlessly billowed as he swooped and stormed throughout the Halls.
"Along with the first stage of [Transcendental Movement] at Step 15, the Timeless Body Perk that negates the ill effects of aging became the [Undying Body Perk.] Even while healthy, ki removes the need to eat, drink, or breathe."As for them." He paused, landing between us and his undead to seal off his ki. "That came at the Sixteenth Step. [Head Undying Monk.]"
"I presume that is the source of Ki your undead now have," I stated.
"That it is!" He cheekily smiled- a grim sight in his mummified state. "It only works on the undead I raise with ki but I can train them to give them more. As for the Seventeenth Step, the third Transcendental Movement Perk that usually granted monks flight gave me the [Reaper's Robes]. However, the Vacant Body Perk that prevents your mind from being read has become the [Reaper's Body.]
"My body has been 'infused with the reaper's essence,' so I no longer need ki to stay like this." He gestured to his mummified self. "And I've learned that while non-magical attacks can still rend my flesh, it's only painful if the weapon is made of adamantine."
"Similar abilities to both the Necro King and the Raven Reaper." I pointed out. "That is neither here nor there, however. Your time in Nydorden Halls has come to an end. Yet your training is not yet complete. As mentioned before, you must venture to a place infused with the energies of your monastic way to make the eighteenth and nineteenth steps. Thus the revelry for your graduation from these Halls will begin now.
"However, I will ensure you understand this; while you are reaching the end of your path and may reach it in due time you will find it leads to a vast realm of challenges. Akin to crossing the gate of a vast city, your journey as a monk has only just begun. What you walk away from these halls possessing are the basics. A foundation to build on as you scour the realms."
"Thank you, Abbot." Amun bowed, then delayed the festivities with a raised palm. Others were already in motion, however. Freki procured a mountain of food from seemingly nowhere and had the lot of it hauled over to Sam as others played music, pulled blankets and chairs from dimensional storages, or outright departed.
"Before that," Amun said, ignoring them. "I have some more training I need to do."
"More training?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes." He sighed. "I've been on Death's Door for a while- since the Fourteenth Step, knocking away but He won't open it. I assume He will now, but I'm not ready." Pausing, he conjured a field of obstacles that seemed to come out of a dungeon delvers worst nightmare. "I'm sure you know this, but there are hidden perks of the martial classes."
"Physical ability mutations." I nodded in understanding. "No wonder you spent so much time running about the Halls. Due to your Way, you have nothing to improve on but your agility and dexterity. Very well."
Though I simultaneously had no reason and every reason for the proud melancholy I soon felt, I could not come to terms with it as I watched Amun and his troupe face their self-imposed obstacles. I felt fortunate to have witnessed not just Amun's ascension but the creation of his very pantheon. Not to mention the honor to teach him, Telin's Eternal Champion.
My skills, philosophies, and ideals- all I acquired over a millennia of experience had been immortalized within this divine being. And so too was it immortalized within his troupe. They were just as graceful as he was, for the most part. From the largest brute to the smallest halfling, all of them could be seen leaping dozens of meters across the cavern, dancing through a barrage of lightning bolts, acid splashes, flaming arrows, and falling rocks while laughing and singing and competing with each other in earnest. How they moved made it seem like these ancient Halls were their grounds of play; like they were the children of giants, frolicking in a city of Paradisians.
Their movements about this space made me feel as such: a creature who needed a castle to be comfortable was given a broom closet in which to rest. To that end, their presence within Nydorden Halls would have been akin to a creature who needed a continent making do with a castle. Thus I was certain that their presence in the caverns below would be akin to a creature who needed a realm settling for just a country. The land would be unable to sustain their play.
If it could, its inhabitants surely could not.
Such would have been the case here, had there not been protections. Yet even then, there was some reliance on Amun and Iris' use of their Grandmaster Artificing perks to repair what was damaged.
I was proud beyond belief. Yet as I looked on, I could only feel despair; for I knew the quicker miracles came, the faster the wonders would fade.
I knew he would be guided below. I knew he would be taught our history. Knowing him, I knew what he would witness would bring him to disdain the Demon Spider. Even if he joined her, I was certain my life would remain the same as it had been for the last several centuries; stepped on and ridiculed by my very granddaughter- my youngest granddaughter. Exiled from all drow except those they openly shunned- the males.
Her first son was no different. Etan was insignificant to Etyl. A mere pawn she intended to use to learn more of Elg-Horr, ignoring or perhaps denying the fact that all she needed to do was ask. It was so paradoxical, the way she obsessed over him now. That was why I would have sent him away even without the tasks. Because I was certain he came to the same conclusions as me. Because I was certain he would be bold where I had not. Because I knew that if any of us deserved to be freed from the Demon's webs, it was him.
Instead, my worst fears were realized when Etyl said her temporary goodbye to Amun and led her son into the Darkworld. It seemed to leave the Champion unbothered, yet the blank stare at their long-gone steps spoke volumes. One as bold and cunning as he would certainly have a plan. Thus it was my turn to be bold.
If not cunning.
***
Amun.
***
"We shall see you soon, Elg-Horr. All of us will be awaiting your arrival in Zimysta Falls."
Etan gave me a knowing look before he stepped off with his mother. We had a plan and would stick to it, but I was enjoying these prospects less and less. I admit to not having the best thoughts as I watched them walk away. This was what Etan wanted, however. I had no choice but to honor his wish; not if I wished for him to do the same in reverse.
"Are you not going to change?" was the question I chose to turn toward to distract me. The one behind said question was a drow of average build and all the obligatory features of House Za'Darmondiel. Absurdly handsome. Pointed chin. Small nose. High cheekbones. Red irises. White locks tied and smothered in cobwebs. This one was the most boyish drow I'd seen, however. Always, a cheeky smile was on his face.
At least when the females weren't around.
"What do you mean, Sorn?" I asked him, gesturing to the same clothes I arrived in- my old robe. In turn, he just tapped at his brow knowingly. "Later," I then said. "I'd rather not inadvertently change this place."
Yet.
"And why would bringing out those horns and that wicked crown of yours change these old Halls?"
It was my turn to give him a knowing smile before walking off, waving over my shoulder. "You'll see."
It took him a few moments to catch up, saying the most ridiculous thing one could say in this situation. "Those aren't even the clothes we gave you!"
I had the impulse to remake the garbs with the proper materials right then and there. But that would've brought out the never-ending questions so I played it off with a casual shrug. "Sue me."
Although he still followed me to the grand table, Sorn said nothing more about the matter. Or anything else. Instead, he seemed content watching Sam add more food to the platters around us, at least until he gave in to his temptation and delved into a mountain of pasta.
While Freki would normally assist in such endeavors, it seemed his snout was more focused on the many women of the night frolicking about the space. As was I and many of the monks here. True to my assumptions and the common tropes abroad, drow were lascivious creatures. Being a monk, cleric, or even a paladin changed that not.
Indeed, it seemed to be a revelry of temptations. Not just was there food, drink, females, and males of the night from various species. So too were there many Darkworld drugs, magical cocktails, and dangerous games of chance for everyone's pleasure. Us four graduates were bathed and fed in ways that would have made Caesar himself envious.
I even got to fulfill a particular fantasy of mine with a few 'giantesses' of the Amazonian persuasion, resulting in a few of the Troupe spending the rest of the night laughing about 'tree climbing,' 'milk,' 'earmuffs,' 'yams,' and 'dommie mommies.' Not that I wasn't laughing as well.
I did no ugly bumping with any drow, on the other hand, as the knowledge gained by the little brooch my dearest mother gave me made that more than a little… uncouth. Thus I spent the last few hours of our revelry sitting calmly at a table with the Troupe, Peter, Rua, Shadows, and a few drow; shooting shit with a burnbud cigar clenched between my lips.
Just like old times.
"What will you all be doing after this?" Veil of Shadows asked before adding. "Other than relocating to meditate?"
"My Legionaries are in Chaulort," Rua said. "I'm going to rendezvous with them and do some traveling. And you?"
"I intend to explore the Darkworld. Though, not to enter the city of drow. I aim to explore the caverns and tunnels on my way to the Sanctuary." Shadows explained before his beady eyes turned to Peter.
"Well, I have guys everywhere." He shrugged, tapping at his ring. "But my, er, lair is in Crater Lake, so I'll be going to her."
"Her?" Aldo, Peter's instructor, asked mockingly. "You speak of a lair stone as if it's a person?"
"Oh, but it isn't just a lair stone," I said, uncaring of who heard me. We moved past such things months ago, after all. "I'm sure you saw it? The divine magic that leaked out of me when I threw my lair stone."
"I did." Sorn nodded slowly.
"That particular divine magic evolves a creature to the end of its evolutionary chain. A Paragon. Leary is one such example," I said, throwing my arm toward the man-sized goblin snoozing in the distance. Or at least pretending to. "The Paragon of a lair stone is an Elder Stone. Think of a lair stone but with our levels of intellect."
"What domain could grant such an ability?" Sid asked. So I answered simply.
"Mana."
That elicited a long and stunned silence from every drow present. The four of us and the Troupe, however, proceeded as normal, uncaring of the mental turmoil going on around us.
"Well, whatever you wind up doing, Peter, you're one of the few Imperators." Iris pointed out. "All you have left is to designate a specialization. As do the rest of you."
"Of course." Shadows nodded. "I, however, have no interest in leading a legion. A small, elite unit is more than enough."
"Nothing wrong with that." Iris nonchalantly agreed. "Not everyone is meant to be one. If that was the case, there'd be nobody to do the endless list of other things that need doing."
"Besides undead, of course."
Ignoring Shadows' comment, Peter leaned back into his seat, giving Iris the most confident smirk I ever saw him wear. "Not to worry, General. I know just the thing."
"As for me." I sighed a few moments later. "Once I return from the Under, I'll be going to Zimysta below. I plan to do a little cultural exchange down there before returning to the Bodhi Tree for the mid-year ceremony. You, and by extension, everyone else are welcome to join us for that. If you do, though, it must be done with the understanding that we are on official business. We'll be representing Eotrom and the Legions, and Polaris already hates me, so we're to be on our best behavior."
"The Empire of Light hates you, a devil of the Nox and a drow? Color me fuckin' shocked!" Sorn snickered. "What I'm truly shocked by is why the Hells you care."
"Yeah." I grinned nostalgically. "I butted heads with their emperor last year. Plus his dog got angry so I threatened him, and now he wants revenge or something dumb like that. That's not what I care about though. I have more than enough wars on the horizon to add Polaris to the list. I'll only fight them now if they act stupidly."
"And later?" Sorn asked.
I shrugged. "I'm sure they'll find a reason to declare war on me eventually."
"What is a… cultural exchange?" Nijal asked, almost tripping over his Common.
"Ah, yes. Well, if I'm to learn of Zimysta's history, drow culture, fighting, spellcraft, and your Goddesses pantheon, I figure it would only be right if I taught you all the history and culture of Eotromenia. My Military-Industrial Empire. My history, culture, fighting, spellcraft, and my pantheons; as well as my guild.
"My Legio Noctis. Legions of Demigods, commanded by the Gods of my Divine Realm." I grinned, gesturing to those around me while my eyes turned about the emotional range of drow faces. "Look forward to that when I return from my delve in the Under. I know I do. So much that I'm going now.
"See ya."