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.”
She smiled then, flashing teeth like white pebbles, “That is true also, but the ground beneath your feet has no desire to speak or debate topics of human knowledge. It was given this knowledge by Moira Centyr and it acquires the desire to speak from your own living will.”
“So I really am speaking to the earth.”
“I am the earth, but I am not its voice… I am an echo of a woman who has passed beyond the knowledge of how to be human,” she said. It might have been my imagination, but I almost heard a hint of wistfulness in her voice as she said it. I felt intuitively that her words were true, but I doubted they were the final truth.
A question popped into my mind suddenly. “Are there others?”
“Others?”
“Other impressions, memories left behind by previous archmages, like you…,” I clarified.
“Not that I am aware of,” she answered simply.
The answer disappointed me and left me more curious, “Why not? Are you the only archmage to have… er… been lost… or joined with the earth?”
“No, when I was alive I was taught that several had been lost in this way before.”
“So why do you exist?” As the question left my mouth it occurred to me that it was a deep question that could just as easily be applied to myself.
“I was created to guard and preserve certain things, the Centyr family has always had a peculiar talent not found in the other great lineages.” she said. Her voice had an almost hesitant tone to it, as if she answered reluctantly.
Of course that begged the question, “Such as?”
Her blue eyes bore into mine, “What you see before you… I am a ‘splinter’ of the original Moira Centyr, a weakened copy if you will.”
The idea intrigued me, “This was something unique to your family? Were all of the Centyr mages able to do this?”
“The ability to create a living body is something only an archmage could manage and there have been few of those among my ancestors. However Centyr wizards were frequently able to create semi-sentient enchantments of objects to contain knowledge… I am merely the extreme extension of that ability. As far as I know I am the only example of… whatever it is you would label me,” she gestured to her body as she finished.
“And what was your creator’s intention when she made you?”
“The preservation of knowledge, to help you… Although I have no will or power to act remaining to me I can teach you what I knew, if you desire my wisdom. And…,” she began to say something else but stopped.
“What?” I prodded.
“Nothing.”