Immortal Enemies

High Matron Etyl of House Za'Darmondiel.

24th of Quartutus, 1492.

3:33 AM.

***

Of all the work done by my children and their spawn, there were many successes, yet only one failure. A fact that made matters worse, for little Aufa failed to get information on the one thing that truly mattered to me; and not only did she fail, she developed an obsession with those machines and, of all things, enchantments.

To make matters worse, she was not the only one. Nym's fixation on twilight deepened upon learning of the surface elf's corruptive nature. As did Yaska upon learning of the halfling's ability to so easily converse with souls and create as-of-yet unseen undead. The difference was; those abilities were of use to us.

Speaking directly to souls would allow us to bypass the psionic blockers that naturally arose from the astral monks' ki. Creating custom minions from the corpses of our enemies would benefit us in every way. Iris' eldritch body aside, the machines described on the surface were no different from those used by the dwarves around us. Loud, uncouth behemoths of metal and wood built to do a single task in perpetuity. For that, there were much better alternatives. Mana Crafting. Arcane Constructs. Males. Slaves.

On the contrary, some things had the potential to be detrimental to us, if approached incorrectly. A divine empire with lands above the skies. A guild with many subguilds of so-called 'explorers,' comprised entirely of seemingly meek demigods. An entire pantheon of Eternal-born deities amid development.

I saw to it that Ilar corrected her fourth daughter's mistake without error. Still an infant, Aufa was, like my Eban, Etan, Raki, and Ruel; not to mention Elg-Horr. It was important that children be properly educated, for they- especially these few- were the future of all drow; and the future of all drow was the future of the Mortal Plane.

Ten days were needed for such an endeavor, for in her centuries of practice, that was how much time the Abbot of these halls estimated Elg-Horr would need to reach the next step. Ilar and Ruel preceded my arrival. If not to verify the Abbot's claims then to attempt one final time to right Aufa's wrong.

A foolhardy endeavor in both regards.

I felt it long before I arrived. A wicked cold crept through every defense in my armor and skin alike. Around my bones, it crawled, hissing foul threats to my soul as my steps endlessly echoed off the dank stones. Never before had I felt close to something so foul. In that timeless moment, I felt as if I were waltzing before the maw of the most baleful creature in existence without my senses, and with no control of my body.

Within its lair were creatures seen as both good and evil through the eyes of divination. More celestial wolves, more divine rogues, more machine men, and yet more undead; shadows and fiends alike, chanting and drumming to the praise of their sovereign emerging beyond the threshold of a macabre chamber of black stone and deep shadows.

Inside was the Destroyer himself, more emaciated than he'd ever been before. It was as if he'd been sealed in this chamber to undergo mummification, which was entirely plausible.

His stomach was like a concave edifice carved beneath the overhang of his ribs, which huffed and heaved as easily as they would any other time despite them containing no lungs. His skin was dryer than dry and yet gleaming with the sweat of intense focus; wrinkled by decay and yet kept smooth by his ki. The only thing that made him different from mummies was the lack of jewelry and wrappings enveloping his body, other than the ones around his hands and feet.

 It was the most awe-inspiring thing I'd ever witnessed. In an instant, gone were the frustrations of my granddaughter's misdeeds. Replaced, they were, with visions of a crumbling Nydorden Halls and my Zimysta Falls wreathed in darkness; visions of House Za'Darmondiel's males becoming monks of the vibrant night sky; visions of wickedness befalling those who loved the spider.

Therein brought about a quicker instance of my visions being replaced with a crimson wrath; for if my dear granddaughter had done her duty, those visions would have been complete with sights of drow guilds and clerics and druids spread across the Darkworld of every realm.

Yet again, that was replaced in a quicker instance once I met the Elven Devil's eyes and realized the true nature of that awe sprouted from fear. I felt ashamed, and that shame bore unbridled hatred for the one to spawn it.

I was a Prime Matriarch of House Za'Darmondiel, the eldest house of all the realms. I was she who unleashed drow on Nonus in Her name, yet I feared a child! A half-breed male child! It was an unthinkable prospect. Yet my wisdom permitted me to peer through the crimson veil of Lilith's rage and understand why that was such, and it was only by Lilith's infinite grace that I understood how it was of benefit to us.

The answer had been beneath our blades from the start. So it was still as of this moment. The Bakewian sky was the first sign. The human children he first appeared with was the second. The result of his walk was the third. The fourth was the tales of a divine miracle that began spreading just days before he arrived with these individuals, eclectic, meek, and powerful. The fifth was the tale told by my traitorous first son. Even the stupid grin he gave me while necrotic ki billowed all around him was evidence enough.

Rather than approach them outright, I clung to the walls, ascending while muttering a silent prayer to connect with the minds of every cleric in the vicinity. "It seems his moniker was more apt than we realized. Both of his aliases are; the one given by the fifth above and by us. The truth is now apparent. The Elven Devil and the Queen Demon Spider cannot coexist. Yet, in her infinite wisdom, Lilith, Most High, knows this to mean he is both the enemy of Drow and the future of Drow.

"Destroyer, he is indeed. Destroyer of the weak and meek. Destroyer of weak drow. He will not guide us to greatness by capitulating to our great Goddess. On the contrary, he will engage us in an eternal war, guiding us to greatness by culling our Goddess' weakest webs."

***

Abbot Eiriol.

***

It was foreboding, the way the Matrons and Priestesses suddenly shifted in posture. Faces of incredulity were mixed with those of apathy and dread. But only for an instant. Within moments, they shifted to the feral smirks and wicked grins of scheming drow.

Naturally, Amun paid them no mind. Much to my surprise, however, Etan did the same. Despite being interrogated already, he seemed at ease about returning here to face the same if not worse treatment later on. Despite him knowing what awaited him below, he spurred his student onto the next step by pushing away the seemingly ever-growing Troupe to allow a few combatants to fill the space.

By now we expected the students to understand what came next. Like the millions who came before him, Amun met our expectations by leaping into action the moment the floor was cleared.

Skipping with the Wind, he arrived before a gladiator, crouching low in his tiger stance to strike at the stomach and chest. His nails thricely raked across the gladiator's torso before he sunk through the gladiator's legs, appearing the next instant with his knife hand pointed at the gladiator's back.

A sickening crunch vibrated the hall the moment Amun lunged forward. In turn, the gladiator pulled taut, standing on the tips of his toes while his arms clawed for his bleeding back. Uncaring of his plight, Amun kicked the man forward, separating the gladiator's spinal column and head from his crumpling body.

The ethereal greenish-blue fires of necrotic ki reactively surged into the dangling spine as Amun held it at the ready, causing each vertebra to extend and morph into a bony chain link attached to the chomping skull.

"[The Arms of Death]," Amun said in a much more grim tone than I was used to. "With them, flesh and bone can become martial weapons. In this case." He paused as the chomping head pulled itself up to gaze at us. "A ball and chain."

Saying such, he ceased the spine and skull's motion around his body whilst hopping backward, lifting him to land in a powerful, tile-cracking stomp. Six loud knocks of flesh against wood echoed as his eldritch ki surged into the cracks at his feet and spread across the floor. Upon crossing the length of the ring, another six knocks split the ki, and it raced along the circumference to fall back on itself, bringing about a final six knocks to fill the space with the abyssal darkness of a family more ancient than ours.

The remaining gladiators seemed perturbed by the sight. Naturally so. More so, however, they began to glow with the same color as the 'door' beneath them, opened to allow the grim hands of death to hold them in place while Amun and the freshly raised headless corpse went into action.

The former hooked the 'chain' around his foot and kicked, sending the chomping skull slamming into the chest of one while the headless corpse flipped and sailed through the air. Landing with a kick and a leg sweep before rolling onto him, grabbing hold of his rags, and rolling backward to kick him into the air in Amun's direction.

Amun met him halfway, darting forward to deliver a spinning kick into the gladiator's ribs. While his opponent flew away, I saw a spectral visage of the same gladiator standing where he'd just been, screaming at the sight of his convulsing corpse while those vile hands pulled him into the Abyss.

"[Reap the Dead] raises undead in a higher tier. Draugr. Mummies. Revenants. A headless hunter, in this case." Amun said to the silent inquiry once the undead gladiator took its place next to its weaponized head, throwing snarls and scowls at the unseen eyes above as it slinked into the gladiator's back.

My heart skipped at the sight. Only for the dispersing field of ki to capture my attention once again. "[Dead Door Knock,]" Amun said, gesturing around the now-ordinary pit.

"Something was pulled under. Was it… his soul?" I asked.

"Oh, you saw that?" Amun turned, smiling with surprise. "It was. Knocking Death's Door tags the souls of those who hear its echoes. If they're standing within a certain radius they're immobilized by Death's reaching hands. If they're killed, their souls go to my pit."

"Your... pit?" I echoed. To which he nodded simply.

"Yes. My Underworld."

"Right," I said, nodding Etan forward to train him in the boons granted by forming the ki circuit. A simple task for one of elven blood.

"First, tell us of any changes to the Spiritual Tongue perk you obtained at the Twelfth Step."

"The [Tongues of Cradles and Graves]," Amun said. "It allows me to transcend language between me and all things both living and dead."

That was to little surprise. Thus Etan nodded and raised his hand to begin further condensing the condensed fires of his ki in the palm of his hand. "Ki Beam," he said once the violet energy became something solid and glowing violet. Then thrust out his palm to send a beam crashing into a nearby goblin.

It hurtled across the room with a pitiful cry and remained unmoving upon rolling to a halt, its body singed and broken beyond recognition. No different from the arcane variant used by even the weakest elves. "You must master this before you reach the end of this hall, where you will create a Focus Chamber for your meditations."

With only a nod, Amun continued his march. An act that seemed to please every pair of eyes around us.

Indeed, I too was eager to see Amun spread carnage throughout my Halls. More importantly, I was just as eager as everyone else to stretch my legs once again. At least until the next stint of focused meditation. Still, however, there was no room to complain. It had taken just eight days for Amun to form his first circuit between the 1st and 2nd natural ki ponds. Twice as much, if not more time would be needed to open the 1st and 2nd necrotic ki ponds; and then more open the 3rd and 4th natural ki ponds and link them into a circuit. At least in theory. This class of monks have been flying down the path as quickly as Etan had, and naturally, they did not have the close eye of a High Matron spurring them along.

Those other monks did not have Amun's superpowered strength, however. With so much strength stolen from the living, the restraint shown in his movements was all too clear. Yet it was verified by his troupe. Namely, by his adopted daughter and her subordinate monk, Deeke.

According to her and the equally strange boy, their strength was the reason few of the troupe decided to fight through the Halls. Instead, they displayed their prowess in different ways. Through songs. Through praise. Through creation. Through hunting and feasting on the creatures of the underground or raising their cadavers into undead beings.

Because of that and the deathly aura crawling ever deeper into the halls, the gladiators and enslaved warriors who called this place home found the most out-of-the-way holes to hide in, but that was fine. The monastic path was a physically spiritual journey focused entirely on ki. Amun had stepped past the need for constant battles, leaving him with two aspects to develop.

On the contrary, however, he seemed to be intent on testing his athleticism by leaping and running through the Hall for hours on end. Aiming, it seemed, to either delay or put his mark on every surface found within before he landed in front of Etan near the next Hall's entrance.

"Contrary to Focus Chambers, Meditation Halls are formed in areas with high natural energy rather than intense mana zones," Etan explained, gesturing around the cavernous complex behind us, filled with a taste of the astral plane, bathed in ki. A sight Amun seemed bored with. His Troupe, however, still gazed upon the mushroom forest spread above the mossy meadows with a sense of wonder; uncaring of the countless spiders watching them from within.

"These so-called Places of Power are the only places monks can open the third ki pond. They are rare in nature and can form from any energy outside of mana, be it natural, primal, elemental, or spiritual energy. Similar to Focus Chambers, however, a skilled monk who has learned to meditate in such a place can easily recreate one within their temple.

"Your task is exactly that. Create a focus chamber in this next Hall, directly beneath your previous one, to open your first and second necrotic ki ponds." Etan gestured the door behind him and turned back to Amun holding a necklace of beads ranging in size from eyeballs to fists. "As was the case above, you must focus your meditation on these."

It was a simple practice, in theory. In reality, it required nonstop meditative focus and a mastery of intense ki control. Things Amun had in excess, yet the wait would be long all the same, for he had more steps to make this time around.

It was not all for naught, however, for we'd long since streamlined our courses, we had a lot to ponder the perk displays he gave us, and he wasted no time entering the shrine as he did any other place, with a great smile akin to a war master gazing upon a captured dwarven treasury. His eyes turned about in every direction, following the flow of the energies within.

"Welcome to the heart of Nydorden Halls," Etan told him and the other monks of his Troupe; Sam and the strange boy, Deeke, among others. "Such Shrines of Enlightenment are Extreme Mana Zones imbued with both Ki and extra-planar energy. Or, to put it another way, a Place of Power merged with an extreme mana zone. As such, they are only found near extra-planar gates. Natural or otherwise.

"These shrines are the only places a monk can open the fourth natural ki pond and link them together. As such, those energies will greatly influence the monk in question.

"Hence our Astral Way," I concluded. "After finding a shrine leading to the Astral Realm, a place where the mind is more powerful than anything. Subconscious thought, emotion, and dream shapes reality in that realm. I relied on the ancient Youteran records to move down this path. As yours will be, the final step was to build this temple and train monks according to my monastic way.

"Step Fifteen tasks you with forming a Meditation Hall within a Place of Power. However, you will do so within the Meditation Hall you create within this Shrine of Enlightenment, where you will remain sealed with the Shrine's energies and your ki until you reach the Seventeenth Step.

"You will need this." I waved over a slave to deliver not beads but a large blank scroll, then turned to those other monks of the Elven Devil's Troupe." I know not where the rest of you will need to go- if you even need to at all, considering your classes of legend." I mused, turning back to Amun. "I imagine you will have to venture to a place of death."

"Yes." He nodded. Then stepped off to form his Hall without another word.