Michael Manning - The Archmage unbound

Moira Centyr in particular was a startling example of something far beyond the ken of normal wizardry. Whatever she had done a thousand years before had changed her into a creature of the earth itself, an elemental being. How such a thing could happen was beyond my ability to guess, but as I pondered it I realized that I didn’t have to guess.

My last contact with her had been while I was desperately trying to heal Penny. Naturally I hadn’t had a chance to ask any non-essential questions at the time, but there was no reason I couldn’t ask them now. I had actually been considering trying to contact her since that day, but until now I had had too many things distracting me to make a serious attempt.

The metal in my hands had gone cold. Startled, I realized I had been standing idle for several moments. I set the piece down and decided the time had come to do something. Walking outside I washed my hands and face in the water trough near the door. I should find someplace a bit more private, I thought to myself.

I took a walk, through the village and out the gate. As I went I studied the repairs to the outer wall. During Gododdin’s siege of my home they had breached the outer wall that encircled the town of Washbrook. After our victory it had been the first thing on our list of important things to rebuild. The work had gone well and now the section of wall that had been torn down was only remarkable by the difference in color between the new stone and the older stone of the undamaged parts of the wall.

The masons were now laying the foundation for a much larger wall that would encircle the area where our palisade had been… and more. The most uncomfortable thing about the siege had been the crowding created by the fact that some of the town was outside of the defensive walls. If it ever came to that again I intended to make sure that we had room and then some for any future sieges. Once the new outer wall was built I would have several large barracks constructed, along with storehouses for food and supplies.

I didn’t actually anticipate needing to fill those barracks with soldiers, but if I had to shelter the people of the county again there would be plenty of space for the farmers and their families to stay. I should probably consider having a second well dug to provide easier access to fresh water, I thought.

My steps took me beyond the walls and down the road toward the valley. I followed it for several hundred yards before I turned aside and headed into the trees that flanked the road on either side. I kept going till I found a comfortable looking spot to sit beside a large oak and there I settled myself, leaning my back against the massive trunk.

Closing my eyes I began slowly clearing my mind. My mage-sight had already made sure the surrounding area was clear of people so I felt secure in my privacy. A more careful scrutiny reassured me that there were no ‘empty-places’ that might indicate shiggreth nearby. I had not forgotten them despite the fact that they had remained in hiding since their attack on the village before the war.

Listening I focused my attention on the deep and steady thrumming of what I thought of as the heart of the earth. My awareness of my own body slipped away and was replaced by a more acute awareness of the ground beneath me, the feeling of the stone and dirt that stretched away for miles in every direction. As my connection to the earth grew firm I cast my ‘voice’ outward, calling her name, Moira.

I had never tried to contact her before so I wasn’t entirely sure it would work. At first I felt nothing in response to my call but after an unknown period of time I felt… something, a more focused intelligence, approaching. Power moved in the earth around me and I felt the ground rise up slowly in front of where I sat, flowing and forming the shape of a woman.

“You called me,” she said quietly. The sound of a purely physical voice surprised me and I opened my eyes to see her standing next to me. As before, she had taken the form of a human woman, perfect in every detail, except for the small fact of being made of earth and stone. Even her voice sounded almost normal, though it had a certain dry quality to it.

“You can speak,” I said. I was mildly surprised, in the past she had spoken to me only in my mind.

“Why would you think otherwise?” she asked, though her face betrayed no visible emotion or curiosity.

“I assumed you could only speak to me directly, mind to mind. If you could talk like this you should have been able to talk to me even after I formed the bond with Penny,” I told her.

“You are laboring under several misconceptions. I can only speak, move, or indeed act at all because you are not bound,” she replied.

That made no sense to me. “The bond only interfered with my ability to communicate directly with my mind, how would that affect your ability to speak?”

“Who do you think you are talking to?” she asked.

I sincerely hoped she wasn’t going to make a habit of answering my questions with questions, but with a sigh I answered anyway, “Moira Centyr… or have you changed names?”

“That is probably the best name to use, but it is not strictly correct,” she said with an infuriatingly calm demeanor.

“Listen, I’m not really in the mood for this, if you aren’t Moira Centyr then tell me who I am talking to. I’d rather not spend all day playing word games,” I said impatiently.

“If I were still alive I’d have you punished for such impertinence,” she answered with a faint hint of a smile. “In one sense I am the earth, in another I am a remnant of Moira Centyr, and in the most important sense I am you.”

“Well that really clears things up,” I said sarcastically. I should have expected an answer like that; magical beings never seem to have straight forward answers. I got my frustration under control and decided to tackle the subject systematically. “Let’s start with the first thing you said, ‘if I were still alive’, I thought you were still alive. Did you die after you joined with the earth and defeated Balinthor?”

“The problem is really created by trying to force reality to fit into the form of language. Moira Centyr did not die, she changed, became something else… a part of the earth itself. From a human perspective, and in most ways that matter to humans, she died. I am what she left behind, an impression of her knowledge, an imprint of who she was, preserved within the earth… an echo of her mind.”

I had a sinking feeling this was going to be a long introduction. I tried again, “So you’re sort of a ghost?”

“No, I am her knowledge, preserved within the earth,” she replied.

Same difference, I thought, but I didn’t voice my opinion. “It sounds as if the distinction is mostly academic. Rather than split hairs over the details how about we just call you ‘Moira’ for simplicity’s sake,” I suggested. “Let’s return to the original question, why couldn’t you speak to me like this while I was bound to Penny?”

“Because I am not Moira Centyr, I am a memory. I have no volition, no will or motivating self beyond that which you provide. That is why I said that I am you in one sense.”

Understanding was beginning to dawn, but I still wasn’t clear on everything yet, “then why did you answer when I called you by that name… Moira. ”

“I answered because you called. Your will, your desire, your motivation compel me to act, to respond. You provide the volition that creates this semblance of who Moira Centyr was, without your living will I am no more alive than the ground beneath your feet. I am a memory, given life and substance by your connection to the earth and your desire for answers.”

I understood now but I was feeling argumentative, “The ground beneath my feet is alive. I’ve learned that much already.”