Separation

[Continuing the theme of my Epic Fantasy, ‘The Daighacaer’ (“Day-gar-care”); Extract from Book I, Escape from Mount Vilipend]

[Pronunciations:  Mægéma (Mag ee ma); Ninusa (Neen oo saa)

A quick recap:  Mægéma is pure magma and her essence is encased in a crystal which hangs around Weda'Sel's neck.   Mægéma has formed a silent communication vinculum ['vinculum' is a real word and means to link - I've just used it a little differently] with both Weda'Sel and Urus.  She has also now formed a similar vinculum with the Blade Dragons except that in this vinculum the Blade Dragons are able to communicate with the three tiny mortals in a language understood by all.

In this segment, out of the necessity caused by their situation, Mægéma reveals herself to Ninusa.  She also explains about the nature of magma and lava and how they fit into the pattern of mortal life.  This segment is about separation in so many ways; not the least of which is Mægéma's separation from herself.

Mægéma could sense the life essences of some of the baby Blade Dragons and scouts but, as she quickly yet patiently explained; because of the concentration of ongoing tortures and the extent of The Darke in the area, the number of their people and the number of baby Blade Dragons still alive were, according to her senses, at best, only a guess.

“Does anything about that mountain strike you as a little bit odd, Weda’Sel?” asked Mægéma . 

“Not really, Mægéma ; except that it is the only mountain of any significant height in the area and that it’s surrounded by bogs, but I hardly think that that is unusual.  Why, Mægéma ?  What am I missing?”  Everyone’s attention was turned towards Weda’Sel because, of course, when Mægéma spoke out loud, to everyone else Mægéma was merely a knowledgeable female voice emanating from Weda’Sel’s body.  When she conversed silently with Weda’Sel, their confusion was even more pronounced. 

Their stares unnerved Weda’Sel even though he understood the reason for them and he grimaced and grinned both at the same time.  “I’m sorry, I’m also still not used to Mægéma speaking aloud, but I expect that for you the experience of her disembodied voice must seem quite bizarre.”

“Weda’Sel!” cried Mægéma .  “My voice is absolutely not disembodied and neither is there anything bizarre about me.  My body may not be in a form you appreciate as a soft and fleshy living one, but I most certainly do have a living body.”  Urus smiled involuntarily at Mægéma ’s ‘harrumph’ and he bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. 

“Of course you do, Mægéma , and I do know that your body is a living one.  I would be the last one in Faeré to question anyone’s life form” said Weda’Sel as he pointed to himself.  “I hate to state the obvious, but we’re running out of time.  Mægéma , what is your idea?”  

“The mountain is a volcano!”  Mægéma paused for a moment and then when no one said anything, continued.  “It has been dormant for aeons but it remains a living volcano, Weda’Sel.  That is why the bogs are so significant.  The volcano acts as a natural heater so that, even within the unbearable cold of this icy wasteland, the bogs survive and thrive because the underground heat from the volcano provides them with warmth.”

“How does this fit in with your idea, Mægéma ?” asked Ninusa warily.  He didn't think he would ever become comfortable with talking to something, or rather ‘someone’, he could not see.

“My life essence is from and of volcanic lava, Ninusa.  Before The Lighte penetrated The Darke of Mount Vilipend, my life-essence was a tarn of magma which lived deep within and underneath Mount Vilipend.  My name itself is the name for pure magma.  Only a minute part of my essence is here with you.  The main part of my essence remains in Mount Vilipend still, although I am working to find a way for the rest of me to leave Mount Vilipend.”

That took Weda’Sel aback a little and he asked in surprise “You’re working on leaving Mount Vilipend?  I thought that your essence with me would have left the rest of the tarn without the benefit of your true essence.  No.  That’s not true!  I didn't think about the part of you which we've left behind at all.  I’m so sorry, Mægéma .”

“I know Weda’Sel and I understand” said Mægéma .  “Who I am is difficult to comprehend as it is.  To understand and accept that I am in two places at one and the same time must be difficult in the extreme and yet it is exactly as it is and there is nothing surprising about it.  It happens all the time but we’ll discuss this later.”

“Yes we most certainly will.  How could I have been so naive?   What’s significant about the mountain being a volcano, Mægéma ?” asked Weda’Sel.

“What is significant indeed?  The significance of the mountain which houses the banloghs being a volcano is enormous.  The lava, which is the major life force of the volcano, is linked to all the life-forms within its dominion.  However, although it doesn't have feelings as you do and as I now do as well, it nevertheless does experience its existence as a dynamic, inseparable organism; continually in motion and very alive.” 

Weda’Sel almost interrupted Mægéma in his excitement but he waited until she finished before he said “I think I can see what you have in mind, Mægéma but how will it work?”

“All life carries within it memories of the area within which it exists.  The banloghs will know that a volcano, even one which has been dormant for aeons, can erupt at any time.  They will recognise the signs and they will act on them.  What we have to do is to convince them that they need to flee right now.  What else we need to do is to make sure that they are steered towards the edges of the many precipices at some distance from the entrance to the cave.” 

“You are a marvel, Mægéma !” cried Urus.  “That will work.  That will most certainly work!  Are you in contact with the resident lava?”

Mægéma chuckled at Urus’ turn of phrase.  His understanding of her essence and life force was progressing magnificently.  “Yes, Urus I am.  My sister lava life-essence and I, believe we have already worked out the details of how to get those banloghs away from our people.”

Senthe, who was now almost beside herself with worry about the babies, asked “How long before the banloghs will start to flee, Mægéma ?”

“Within a very few minutes of our finalising our plans, Senthe.  How close are your companions?”

“We are in constant contact and I've already let them know of our meeting and that they will be needed; although I wasn’t sure how or for what reason.  They are on their way to join us already and should be here about now.”   She turned to look towards the East and nodded as she saw a deep green shimmer moving quickly and steadily closer.  The Blade Dragons were flying low, as low as their size would allow them to fly, and Weda’Sel suspected that they were doing so to avoid alerting the banloghs to their presence. 

“The banloghs will know of it soon enough” Weda’Sel thought.  “Not soon enough for me, but soon enough.”

As the Blade Dragons hovered over the little group looking for a place to set down, the three friends were compelled on to their knees and then on to their stomachs by the force of the downwind which the Blade Dragons unwittingly created. 

The Blade Dragons had no idea of the pain the air pressure of their descent was causing until Senthe called to them.  Her call aggravated the situation because, of course, in the urgency of the situation, she used her vocal distress call and that would only reach her family if it was in Blade Dragon language and of a magnitude they could hear. 

With their hands over their ears and involuntary tears in their eyes, the three once again wondered if this was going to be their end; ignominiously spread-eagled on the ground with their hands over their ears.  If Mægéma hadn't muted the Blade Dragons’ calls as soon as she realised what was happening, the force of sound itself would have killed the diminutive beings whom the other Blade Dragons had not even noticed. 

The poem I've chosen is for Mægéma in her crystal form, separated from her magma essence which remains in Mount Vilipend.

CRYSTAL NIGHTS

Shouted whispers and silent cries

Tell of my love for You

Yet still

I hide away

Within my sincerity

Within the strands of my intuition

As my Mind touches Your Mind

As my Soul senses Your Soul

Muted hues and vibrant shadows

Portray my love for You

Yet still

I hide away

Within my timidity

Within the filament of my unconsciousness

As my Hands hold Your Hands

As my Body embraces Your Body

  

Crystal nights and Opal lights

Bring my love to You

Yet still

I hide away

Within my honesty

Within the filigree of my conscious

As my heart throbs to Your Heart

As my life breathes Your Life.