71 Foundation
"No, no, don't feel pity for me, shiny gem,” Moonalia dissected my expression. “I might not be as free or as sentient as Cali, but I'm she-who-understands whatever is needed to be understood. I understand my place in the world and I also understand that..."
Moonalia's words trailed off as she stared into the distance, her eyes unfocused. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something deeper, more complex than the bubbly, chatter-prone Corvix I'd been talking to. But then she blinked, and it was gone.
"I understand that knowledge is power," she continued, "And that's why I'm willing to risk everything for this chance to meet you, to study you. Because you, the unliving-living gem and your feline owner, are unlike anything I've ever encountered before. Unlike anything that any Corvix Arcanix has encountered anywhere on Thornwild. You're a mystery, a puzzle, and solving you could change... so much of everything."
I felt a chill run down my spine at her words. The way she spoke of me, as if I were some sort of prize to be won or problem to be solved. I momentarily wondered if Moonalia would have to die after she helped me dissect the Builder Artifact stolen from the Gygr’s bog. If a Jotun or Bobliss would slap her out of existence as Stormy led us towards her absurd sunbeam goal.
Yellow-gold eyes squinted at me. Mooni gulped, black and white feathers fluttering as Gregor flew through the lower level of clouds.
“Uh, I don’t like that look,” she said, tapping her talons with obvious distress. “Not at all. I don’t want to be unmade. I don’t want to be suspended in a barrel like my Seeker.”
Hrm. I frowned. Had I been that transparent in my thoughts? Or was her ability to read expressions truly that keen?
"I'm not planning on unmaking you," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I just... I need you to understand that I'm not some artifact to be studied or taken apart.”
“Studying everything is what I do,” the Corvix replied, bobbing and shaking her head. “It’s what I was bred for, my Astragenical alignment. It’s the one personal parameter I cannot modify within my brain, enforced within every fraction of my Geist by the Astragenic Automata of Cantigeist Raven Mundus. I can somewhat choose how I go about it, but the desire to understand, to take apart and analyze everything I encounter - that's fundamental to who I am.”
“Right,” I nodded. The ship of our conversation was gradually making its way into dangerous territory. “But does your desire to study things exceed your allegiance to the Arcanicx Ring Colonies?”
“Erm, uh,” Mooni tapped her talons. “Yes. Colonies. An apt word for the castle specialization range of the Arcanicx. Yes. I must serve the nest as the disassembler of knowledge. Oh, oh…”
I squinted at her.
“I understand the implications,” Her face fell. “I can't go back to Iridium with what I learn, can I?"
“No, you cannot,” I said, lifting the black snowflake to the Farcast orb and making it spin on the ferronite chain, black edges glinting in the light of the orb. “This knowledge has a steep price. Are you willing to pay for it? Are you… willing to edit your allegiance to the colony, to the nest, to everyone... to learn what this does? To learn what I am?”
I made the Builder Artifact swing left and right on its chain, yellow eyes of the Corvix following it.
“Because if you’re not, you should ask Gregor to turn around, to go back to your nest hideaway, to forget that we ever spoke. I’ll drown the orb in the North Sea, and you will never…”
“Open the door to eternity,” Mooni stammered out, her entire body trembling. “Never reach infinity.”
That wasn’t what I was going to say at all, but it seemed fitting somehow.
Mooni stared at the spinning snowflake, her eyes wide and unblinking. I could almost see the gears turning in her mind, the internal struggle playing out across her features. Her beak opened and closed several times, no sound coming out.
Finally, she took a deep breath, her feathers ruffling. "I... I choose knowledge," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I choose understanding. I choose... to... to create a new colony!"
“What?” I blinked.
"To create a new colony!” The Corvix repeated. “Every nest had to start somewhere, right?”
Moonalia's words hung in the air, her eyes wide. The snowflake continued to spin on its chain, reflecting in her golden irises.
"Yes, that's it," she repeated, her voice gaining strength as she tapped a staccato of talon and steel taps into her beak and head. "A new foundation, a new dot on the map. Led by… her feline excellence, Lady Stormy. Wait. Do... do you have a Cantigeist?”
Stormy shook her head.
“I don’t know what that is,” I said.
“Great! That’s great!” Moonalia fluttered. “I’ll build you one. Myself. Yes. Myself. Just little old me. He he he. A tier five artificer obviously won't be permitted to make a Cantigeist, but these tiers didn’t always exist did they? There was a time before tiers and labels, a time when my progenitor created the first Cantigeist from the Wormwood Star shard she found! If she did it, then so can I!”
The steel rings tapped against each other faster. I suddenly understood.
There were shards of Wormwood Star in those rings and they were editing Moonalia’s mind, somehow rewriting her ‘rules of self’, one thought at a time.
“Yes. Yes. Correct,” Mooni nodded, tapping her forehead faster and faster. “Rewriting self. Faster than thought. Faster than I can think of the rules. The rules don’t matter. Dissasembly of knowledge is manifest destiny, primary purpose.”
“Mrrrr,” Stormy commented.
"The island of sunshine... it's not just a sunbathing spot, is it? It's the beginning of something new. Something... revolutionary." Mooni paused, her feathers ruffling. "A Corvix Nest? My duties, my allegiances… new duties, new allegiances. An allegiance to Lady Stormy, to create a new nest to raise new children. Work. Lots of work. Alignment to the Ring of Castia. Treaties. Trade of information. Not right now, but in the future. Eventually! Not now! Not tomorrow! When the new island colony rises! Yes. Obviously. YES!”
Her pupils grew smaller and then bigger, wider, almost swallowing the rings of yellow irises.
I remained silent, letting her work through her rationalizations. It was fascinating to watch her mind at work, dissecting her own loyalties piece by piece.
"Knowledge is the highest duty," she continued, her words coming faster now. "And this... this Builder artifact, this mystery you represent... it's the key to understanding so much more than I ever could within the confines of Iridium. Oblate personal tier. Personal tier aligns with access to artifacts. Think backwards. She who holds the highest artifact is the highest tier of Artificer. Yes. One hundred thousand years. Highest tier possible. Eeeeee!”
She squealed like a schoolgirl at a concert and glanced down at the clouds below, then back to the orb. "The Castian Ring... behind. New colony ahead. New dot on the map.”
I squinted at her.
Moonalia's talons tapped against her forehead as she spoke, her entire body seeming to vibrate with nervous energy. "I mean, think about it. Lady Stormy, in her infinite feline wisdom, has chosen this spot. This perfect, sunniest island… where your plants, not plants, can thrive and multiply." Yellow eyes focused on the glowing moss behind me. "It's not just a place to bask in the warmth... it's a place to start anew. To build something different. Something outside of the current boundary of thought. Something that will help everyone someday. Not right now, someday. When it's ready."
She looked directly into the orb, her eyes locking with mine. "A place where knowledge isn't hoarded, but shared. Where understanding isn't just a tool for control, but a path to... to something greater. Where the chain of the doomed future is broken.”
I could see her struggling with each word, each concept that she fished from some unknowable depth. It was as if she was rewriting her own programming in real-time, fighting against ingrained loyalties and beliefs.
"A new colony. A new foundation. A new... me, as its Corvix Primogenitor. One who serves the pursuit of knowledge above all else. One who follows the guidance of Lady Stormy."
I watched as Moonalia's expression shifted from uncertainty to determination.
“I have chosen,” she said softly, blinking tears from her eyes, the tapping of talons and rings ceasing. “I have understood your offer. I accept the position of Corvix Primogenitor of Sunshine Colony.”
I sputtered mentally. Did she just come up with a lofty position for herself and accepted it?
I couldn't help but wonder about the implications of Corvix mental malleability.
Was Moonalia truly making her own choice, or was she simply following her core programming to pursue knowledge at any cost? And if her loyalties could shift so quickly, how reliable would her new allegiance to us truly be?
On the other hand, her enthusiasm and willingness to break away from everything she knew seemed genuine, at least as far as Stormy judged it. There was a raw honesty of sorts in her desire to understand, to learn, to be part of something new. It reminded me of my own journey since waking up in this strange world - constantly adapting, learning, and reshaping my understanding of reality.
The idea of starting a new Arcanicx colony with Stormy at its head was an intriguing thought.
Intriguing and incredibly risky.
Moonalia's knowledge of Iridium's inner workings and technology could be invaluable, but it also made her a target. If the Arcanicx discovered her defection, they might stop at nothing to reclaim her.
Was I taking advantage of her malleable programming? Or was I offering her a genuine chance at freedom and self-determination?
As these thoughts swirled in my mind, I glanced at Stormy, who was watching the exchange with keen interest. Her paw remained firmly on [YES] in the Codex, seemingly approving of this new direction.
I took a deep breath, realizing that we were at a crossroads of sorts. Accepting Moonalia's offer could open up new possibilities, new knowledge, and potentially new allies. But it also meant taking on the entire Arcanicx Ring that might oppose the foundation of a colony led by a witch’s familiar.
What the hell were we even planning to make there? A catocracy? A… Catriarchy?
"Alright, Moonalia," I said finally, meeting her eager gaze through the orb. "I accept your choice. But understand this–the path ahead won't be easy.”
“Yes. Yes,” the magpie-girl nodded. “Absolutely not easy. Never easy! Probability of success is incredibly low… but…. But, if it works, if the Cantigeist is made correctly, bound to a place, the island named by a Felix, reinforced and claimed for the Ring of Castia, then the rest of the Ring Cities won’t simply be able to punch us out of existence with their Champions, would have to do things… the very much harder, slower, legal way. An impossible chance, one out of a million, but a chance I’m willing to take… not for myself, but for Cali.”
“For Cali?” I asked, surprised by Mooni’s turn in logic. “Is she your best friend or not?”
“She… she is,” Mooni nipped one of her talons with her beak. “Cali is… selfish and wrong and never bothered to understand me. I’ll make her understand me. I’ll help bring that dummy back and make her… like me. That’s what I want. Yes. I want her to like me as much as I like her. I want her to see me as an equal and not as someone to be smacked and berated for the way that I am!”