The Archmage Unbound by Michael G. Manning Page A

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.”
    “It didn’t sound like nothing, what else
is there?”
    “I am not ready to share everything yet,
not until I know your purposes better… not until I am sure you can survive,”
she stated bluntly.
    “I thought you acted according to my
will,” I inquired, “How can a simulacrum be stubborn… or cautious?”
    “Some things we are driven to protect so
strongly that the desire can survive even this…,” she gestured at her earthen
form, sweeping her arms delicately downward.
    I had the feeling I wasn’t going to get
anywhere trying to pry an answer from her at this point so I mentally shelved
the question for later. A larger question loomed before me, “You said others
had been ‘lost’ like you were… how did you wind up like this? More importantly
could this happen to me?”
    She smiled again, “A good question… and
part of the reason I was created. It involves the fundamental difference
between wizardry and what an archmage does. A mage uses his own power to
effect change in the world around him, just as a normal man might use the
strength of his arm and an axe to fell a tree. A mage wields his power and
causes things to happen, in contrast, an archmage listens to the world.”
    “That doesn’t sound very useful, or
powerful. The histories say you defeated a dark god, surely you didn’t do that
by ‘listening’,” I insisted.
    “Correct, I didn’t