The Archmage Unbound (16 page)

She smiled, “It isn’t my job to keep you
on track. Besides, only one of us is completely ‘real’, so I can’t be
blamed.” Her face took on a more serious expression then. “To answer your
question, yes, there are limitations and drawbacks, very serious ones. You
remember the stone I had you work with the last time we spoke I am sure. Let
us use it as an example. That stone, small as it was, had a small amount of
latent power of its own, as well as a minimal level of consciousness. When you
listened to it your task was to make the stone a part of yourself, a part of
your consciousness, a part of your ‘body’. The risk, which I described to you
then, was that you might accidentally make yourself a part of ‘it’ instead of
the other way around. You remember all of this, don’t you?”

“Yes of course,” I said immediately.

“You also should remember the loss of
self you experienced when you tried to ‘listen’ to the wind and went past your
limit. An occasion like that is why having a miellte present can be very
important, that girl… Ariadne, she saved your life when she got your attention
and brought you back to yourself. The same principle applies when you work
with the earth. A small stone is a small risk; it is easy to maintain your
‘self’. A large stone is more risk, and more difficult to make a part of
yourself, without you instead becoming a part of it. Does all of this make
sense so far?”

It seemed logical, so I nodded my head
in agreement.

“There are two factors that are important
to the creation of the bond. One is the person being bonded… particularly how
resilient their mind is to being in close contact with something as alien and
different as the earth itself. The second factor relates to the archmage and
how great a portion of the earth he or she attempts to bond to the subject.
The greater the portion is, the more powerful the targoth cherek will be and
the faster they will devolve. An archmage can only bind as much of the earth
as they can actively work with themselves, without being overwhelmed so that…”

I interrupted, “Wait, what do you mean
‘devolve’?”

Moira gave me an irritated look, “I
hadn’t gotten to that part yet, but it is a pertinent question. A human being
is not meant to be in constant contact with the earth, along with the power
they receive they also find themselves becoming more like the earth itself.
The effect is similar to what happens to an archmage when they go too far,
except that a targoth cherek has little control over the process. They cannot
break the bond on their own, or reduce the amount of earthpower they are bonded
to. Eventually they become creatures of stone and earth themselves, or very
nearly so. They become golems, intelligent, sentient creatures of stone, with
minimal will or self-awareness. At that point there is little anyone can do to
restore them.”

“Like Magnus,” I said remembering the
golem at my father’s house in Albamarl.

“What?!” she said, startled. “Where did
you get that name?”

I carefully related the story of the
golem I had met guarding my father’s library. I didn’t get into too much
detail regarding how it had ‘inverted’ Rose, though the memory still brought a
smile to my face. When I finished I noticed that Moira had gone rather still
and her face was somber.

“I never expected to hear that name
again, though it makes sense… poor Magnus,” she said after a while.

“Did you know him?”

“He was the only targoth cherek I ever
made, as well as being a close friend. He was a noble man. I had hoped to
free him before it got so far but events got away from me. I sent him away, to
protect ‘my’ Mordecai when things got desperate. I can only assume he
succeeded… since you are here.” Her voice was thick and crystal tears had
formed at the edges of her eyes.

Her obvious pain should have made me
more sensitive, but my curiosity overrode my better sense. “What do you mean
‘free him’? Is there a way to prevent what happens to them?”

“Yes,” she answered. “The archmage that
created the bond must unmake it, before they go beyond the point of no return.
In my time, though it was risky, most of those who became targoth cherek were
freed before they suffered irreversible effects, usually after a matter of
years or sometimes decades. It was rare for one to be left to his fate as
Magnus was. It could only happen as an act of deliberate cruelty or perhaps if
the archmage died without warning, before the bond could be broken.” Shame and
sorrow were written in her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I said, realizing I had
asked too much.

“It isn’t your fault. I hadn’t thought
of it since that time. Not till I heard his name again. I was cruel, and my
love for your namesake was so great that I ignored the consequences. I sent
Magnus to protect him, and I did it knowing that I would probably be unable to
return later to remove the bond. It was a selfish request on my part, yet he
swore to do it anyway. My guilt is not your fault.” She had sunk to her knees
now, and her stone dress had spread out around her like water upon the ground,
her posture was one of dejection.

“Moira…” I started but she interrupted
me.

“Would you mind letting me go, for now?
Let me return to nothing and forget. These memories are too much. Please?”
She looked up at me then and I could not refuse her.

“Rest Moira, I will call you another
time,” I told her and before the words had finished leaving my lips she was
gone. This time she had vanished so quickly she didn’t even bother to return
the body she had fashioned from the earth to the ground. Instead she left it
there, like some exquisitely perfect statue of a woman kneeling upon the soft
earth. I might have thought she was still there but for my arcane senses, I
knew she was no longer present.

I sat staring at the form she had left
behind for some while, wondering at the woman she had been. Clearly she had
her own demons, things she would rather forget. Her story was already
finished, yet because of me she was repeatedly forced to return and relive it,
neither alive nor properly dead. For a moment I considered not calling her
again, but my need was too great and her knowledge too valuable. No matter how
much I might wish to leave her in peace the things she could teach me were too
important to ignore.
I suppose someday I will be able to add this to my own
list of regrets, torturing a woman from the past with her memories that she
might teach me,
I thought to myself.

I rose and began trudging home, there
was nothing more to be gained in the forest today.

Several days had passed and I still had
not called on Moira again. I had dozens of questions for her, but something told
me to wait. I felt she deserved that at least. Instead I focused on the task
I had in front of me. I began working in earnest on a second set of armor,
using measurements for Harold Simmons. Dorian had been kind enough to get them
for me, though we hadn’t told poor Harold the reason they were needed. By
mutual consent we decided to keep the plans for my new order of knighthood a secret
until they were more fully developed.

That didn’t stop Dorian from taking
Harold aside for more direct and personal training however. I might have felt
sorry for the man, except that he seemed to take delight in the personal
attention. He seemed to positively enjoy sweating himself half to death in the
practice yard.
Some people are just masochists,
I thought. It never
occurred to me that I probably sweat just as much working in the smithy each
day. That was different after all.

Today I was hard at work shaping the
metal that would hopefully someday be worn by Harold. While my hands were busy
my mind had drifted away, thinking of the upcoming trip to Albamarl. I had
decided to seek a blacksmith to employ while we were in the city. It might be
hard to convince one to relocate, especially if he had a successful practice in
the capital already. It might be better to find a young journeyman, someone
who had recently finished his apprenticeship and might be looking for an
opportunity abroad.

Perhaps I could find a master and a
journeyman. Washbrook had many needs beyond my personal projects and with my
father gone I was the closest thing to an actual metal worker in the area.
With my skills and a bit of cheating I could do anything that needed to be done,
and very quickly as well, but it was distracting. Plus I needed help.
Hopefully I could find someone with experience in weaponsmithing. That way I
could hand over the job of forging the great-swords I planned to enchant later.

The metal in front of me had gone cold
again, but rather than reheat it I set it down and stepped outside to wash my
hands and face.
I should probably find someplace a little more private
before I attempt this
, I thought to myself. Using a towel I had
brought with me I was drying my hands and face when I felt an intent stare on
my back. My magesight could easily locate the man watching me; he was
standing at one of the windows looking down from the main keep.
Being a member of the nobility now, as well as the
only living wizard known I was quite used to gathering curious stares but
something about this man caught my attention. I studied him carefully
without looking up to let him know I was aware of his gaze. Without using
my eyes I could tell he was a fairly nondescript man, medium build and middling
age, not old yet but far from young. He was already starting to go bald,
though I couldn’t tell what color his hair might be without using my eyes.

Then I realized what had gotten my
attention, there was a fine aura of power rippling in the air around his body,
something similar to my own shield but far subtler. My shield was bright
and shimmering when viewed with my mage-sight but this was a dim shadowy aura,
almost undetectable. He kept his power close to his skin and it was woven
so delicately it was hard to understand what purpose it might serve, though it
was clearly not meant to be used as a protective shield.

At last my curiosity got the better of
me and I turned to look upward at him. My eyes immediately found the window he
was standing at, but there was no one there. That was in direct opposition to
the fact that my mage-sight could still see him standing there quite clearly,
looking down at me. I squinted as my eyes tried harder to see the person I
knew had to be there. As I did I sensed (but didn’t see) the stranger’s
eyebrows lifting in surprise, as he realized I knew he was there.

I started heading for the door that
would lead me inside. “Wait there! I need to talk to you!” I shouted upward
as I moved. I wasn’t entirely sure why I thought the man might listen to me
but it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t really fancy having to chase him around.
Visible or not I was certain he couldn’t escape me now that I had taken notice
of him.

That proved to be hubris on my part. As
I ran across the yard he began to fade. My last impression was of him closing
his eyes before he simply wasn’t there anymore. I stopped dead still.
That’s
not possible… is it?
I wondered. I opened my mind to its fullest and
scanned the area carefully. I made doubly sure there were no ‘empty’ spaces
that might indicate the presence of a shiggreth either. I found nothing.

As far as I could tell, the stranger had
simply faded out of existence. He had gone from merely invisible to ‘maybe I
just imagined it’ in the span of just a few seconds. Still I had enough
confidence these days in my senses not to doubt them. He had been there, which
left me with some uncomfortable possibilities. “He was there, but he was not
visible… not to the naked eye,” I mused aloud. “And when he realized I was
aware of him he either transported himself away or managed to hide himself from
my mage-sight as well as my normal sight.”

I didn’t think he had transported
himself. I would have felt something and I doubted he had a circle prepared
there in the middle of the hallway in my own castle. I resolved to check that
immediately and I continued my journey inside so that I could examine the place
where I had seen him.

A minute later I was standing where he
had been. There was no circle. Searching the corridor and nearby rooms I
didn’t find any nearby either. Yet he had vanished. My recent study of
illusions had made me quite aware of some of the possibilities magic held with
regards to fooling the eyes but I knew of no way to make a someone completely
undetectable to normal vision. Setting that aside I couldn’t imagine how he
could hide from my mage-sight, even the shiggreth left an empty place that
could be sensed if I paid enough attention.

So is he still here, or
not?
The thought set the space between my
shoulder blades to itching. I double checked my shield and began walking
briskly toward the training yard. As soon as I spotted my burly friend I
shouted, “Dorian!” Surprised he looked up and after he spotted me he gave the
men a few more instructions before walking to meet me.

“You look worried,” he said. My friend
had a gift for understatement.

“There’s an intruder inside the castle,”
I told him without preamble.

“What?!”

I began explaining what had happened,
which took longer than I had expected. Dorian was full of questions and my
story was less than clear to him since he didn’t really understand magic in the
slightest. Finally he summed up the story for me, “So you don’t know if
there’s someone here now, or if they’ve gone… and it’s possible you were just
imagining things, since you never actually saw them with your eyes.”