Michael Manning - The Archmage unbound

“Joe won’t do,” Dorian commented. “He’s too old and he has a business to run. Much as I love the man I wouldn’t saddle him with something like this in his later years. Harold might be a good choice though, what made you choose him?”

“He’s young and bright eyed. You’ve mentioned him several times in the past, regarding his skill with weapons. He’s also a native son of Washbrook. He knows the people here and they’ll trust him. More importantly he’ll care about them far better than one of our transplants from the capital,” I explained.

Dorian nodded. “I like your thinking. I may know one or two more that meet those criteria among our new guards. I’ll work with them and let you know if I think they’ll work.”

“Perfect, I want you training them anyway,” I added.

“I figured that, but you’ve omitted one key piece of information here,” he told me.

I stared blankly at him, “What?”

“What are you going to name this new order?”

“Oh…,” I said eloquently. I didn’t have a single idea, and it didn’t take long for my vacuous gaze to communicate that fact to him.

“Ha! Don’t worry! I’ve been dreaming about something like this since we were kids,” he reassured me. Long experience prevented me from being reassured. Dorian drew a dramatic breath. “The Mystic Guardians of Lothion!” he pronounced, as if he stood upon a stage.

I groaned, “Mystic?”

“Well you are outfitting them each with magical weapons and armor,” Dorian explained. “Alright how about: The Defenders of the Flame!”

“What flame?”

“The flame of life that burns in all of us, we’re supposed to be protecting people from the undead right?”

“I don’t know… I was thinking it should be something shorter,” I mused. “Let’s think about it a while, there’s no need to rush into a name yet. Besides, I have a question for you.”

“What about?” Dorian asked.

“I built this armor with you in mind. Now that you have it, I still feel it isn’t enough. You’ve fought them before, hand to hand and wearing enchanted armor… what would have helped you most?” I said, trying to elaborate so that he would understand my question.

My friend pursed his lips for a moment, concentrating. “What helped most was your father tossing oil on them and setting them on fire when they had me helpless.”

I smiled ruefully at the thought, “If I could bring him back to follow us around and haul our asses out of trouble every time things went badly… I would, and I’d bring your dad back as well. I’m sure that with the two of them around we could just take it easy from then on.”

Dorian grinned, but I could see a hint of sadness in his eyes at the thought. “Well I suppose the next best thing would be something that would prevent me being borne to the ground and overwhelmed by sheer numbers. I was always rather jealous of Penny’s strength when she was your Anath’Meridum. If I had been strong like that they never could have forced me down.”

I winced, “There’s no way I’m renewing the bond, with you or anyone else.”

“I understand,” Dorian replied hastily, “but isn’t there some other way?”

I frowned as I thought… “I don’t know, maybe. I’ll see what I can figure out.”

The next day I took a break and went out looking for some privacy. I wanted to talk to Moira again. Finding a quiet place in the forest I sat down and called her silently. I probably could have chosen a quiet room in the castle just as easily, but the weather was nice and it seemed more appropriate to call her in a more natural setting. She appeared within moments, rising silently from the earth.

“You need me again?” she asked. Today her eyes were composed of some translucent blue stone, making it look as though they had clouded over. I wondered if she actually saw through them or if they were just for show. Each time I called her it seemed her body was created on the spot from whatever materials were at hand.

“I just wanted to continue our conversation. I have more questions. You don’t mind do you?” I replied.

“Mind?” Her lips curled into a smirk. “Remember Mordecai, I am not a living person. I am a memory of a person, I only exist because your will breathes life into that memory.”

“Well you must have some feelings. You just smiled at me… and as you’ve shown before you definitely have your own opinions,” I said in return.

“Do not confuse ‘seeming’ with ‘being’,” she said. “You might paint a picture of a person, but it still is only oil on canvas. I am not much more than that.”

“So I am supposed to believe you aren’t much better than a clockwork mechanism? Do you honestly propose to tell me that you have no emotions either?” I said bluntly.

She stared at me intently, “No… I do have emotions… I think. I am as much a victim of the illusion as you are. While we talk, while you invest your focus on me, I feel… much as I did once, long ago. But I still remember this is an illusion, as soon as you turn your will aside I will return to dust.”

“What if I kept my focus on you? It doesn’t seem to cost me anything. You could live again perhaps…” I suggested.

“No!” she interrupted loudly. “I could not bear it. The longer I am here, the more I remember, the more it hurts.”

“But you succeeded… I would think perhaps you would have at least a few good things to remember,” I continued.

“I won,” she agreed, “but that is not necessarily the same as success. I lost everything I was fighting for, but I won. Almost everyone I knew or cared about was dead by the time I made my final choice and the one good reason I had left for fighting was rendered…” She stopped then and her face told me she had gone further than she intended.

“Forgive me for prying,” I apologized, but inwardly I wondered what she had been about to say.

“It isn’t your fault. I am not ready to share the more painful parts of my story yet, but perhaps someday I will.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head, as if communing with the long dead spirits of her friends and family.

I waited for a long minute before continuing, “Actually, I had a more practical reason for disturbing your rest.”

The memory of Moira Centyr opened her eyes, “Good, my reason for existing is entirely practical. It might be best to stick to such things.” Staring into those alien stone eyes I could not help but be touched by the emotion I felt lay behind them, but I kept my tongue firmly in check this time.

“When Penny and I were bound together, she gained great physical strength and speed. Cyhan told me it was a side effect of the bond. Because of it she gained extra strength in proportion to my power,” I said explaining. “Do you understand how it worked?”

“No. I can guess, but in my time such bonds were not made. Such a thing would be dangerous for both people involved, exposing them to pointless risk of life and, as you discovered, limiting the sensitivity of the mage,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“I just thought it might be useful for other warriors to possess such physical advantages, if there were some way to do it without putting my own life at risk,” even as I spoke it seemed frivolous. “It’s probably a foolish question isn’t it?”

She laughed showing white pebble teeth as her mouth opened, “Not at all. You just want to create a targoth cherek. ” My knowledge of Lycian now was good enough that I already understood the words, ‘earth guard’, though the context was foreign still.

“I’m not sure what that is,” I admitted.

“That is no surprise,” she said, “There haven’t been any since the last archmage passed into the earth.”