A World of Music
Mark had become a master of runic and mathematical languages. After realizing this, Nergal put special emphasis on Mark's education in military warfare. He noticed the Morph had natural inclinations toward that subject, and the Dark Druid reasoned it might not be a bad idea to fan the flames of the fire.
And then perhaps Mark will be of further use to me. The Morph had already proven his value in the dozens of magic related experiments Nergal had undertaken since Mark had shown competence in runes and math.
Mark didn't just confine himself to military related studies though. The Morph developed acute interests in a number of different fields – specifically history, geography, literature, and science.
He also studied musical theory. This interest pricked Nergal's curiousity. He had himself been a patron of that art, long ago. He had once even attempted to write a book to convince the world that music and magic shared similar principles. He had been able to substantiate the idea, however, and the book was scrapped.
Nergal had long grown disinterested in music, but he was aware that his early obsession with it had played a motivational role in his pursuit of magic. It was one of many contributory causes which had turned Nergal in, as he saw it, the god he was today.
"Mark, you have studied a great deal about the lands and ways of the peoples of Elibe," Nergal said.
Mark admitted that was true.
"Do you ever feel any desire to see them for yourself? The lands and the peoples, I mean?" Nergal asked.
Mark frowned. He thought about it for a moment.
"I suppose I have," he said.
"Would you like to go now?"
Mark was taken by surprise. He fumbled around for answer.
"No," he said impulsively.
Nergal glared at him. "And why not?"
"Because ... it doesn't feel safe," he said. "Nor is it logical. From my studies, I have inferred – no, read for myself – that Elibe is a cruel and dangerous place. If I died, then how could I continue being of service to you in your pursuit of magic?"
"Safety is no issue when you are with me, and you shall see how logical it is with respect to the way you serve me ... in due course."
Mark was reluctant, but he saw that his master intended this for him whether he wanted to or not.
"Very well," he said.
Nergal glanced at the book Mark had been reading prior to his arrival. The Principles and Mechanics of Music.
"You have read much about music, but you have never heard a demonstration of it."
Mark admitted that was true.
"Then that is what we shall do first."
An instant later, Nergal and Mark teleported to the Masilies Theater. It was the grandest of its kind in Etruria – most likely in all of Elibe.
Mark could not gather magic into himself for deployment, but magic cast against or on him affected him. His body was part of the universe, no matter the origins of the substance which had gone into forming it, and thus subject to magical forces. That is why Nergal's teleportation spell worked on the Morph.
Mark was dressed in fine blue robes. This surprised him. He hadn't been wearing them a moment before, back when he and Nergal had been on Valor.
More surprising – Nergal was dressed in fine red robes. Mark had seen a picture of their design in a modern history book. These were the casual clothes of middle class Etrurian nobles.
"We'll go in now," Nergal said. He had two tickets in his hand. Somewhere, in a distant part of the city, a lord and his mistress would be missing them.
Mark could only nod his assent.
The first thing which Mark was taken aback by was the number of people. The size of the building wasn't shocking – the chamber at Dragon's Gate was much, much larger. But Nergal never kept more than a two hundred Morphs at hand at any given time (Mark suspected he had more stationed on different parts of the world, however) – this room housed nearly a thousand people.
They weren't like Morphs in their emotions either. Mark was surprised by the countless expressions he saw – happiness, anger, sadness, and more. Each of these people had a life going on, and in their lives they experieced many things. They brought these experiences with them into the theater, and Mark could see this plastered on their faces as clearly as the sun was plastered to the sky. When he was with his fellows, the only expression Mark could see was, with the exception of the joy Morphs had when they spoke to Nergal, polite boredom.
Another notable feature, and one less pleasing to Mark, was the people's appearance. Many of the people had fine features, but having grown up in the company of the flawless perfection of Morphs, Mark saw these people as, and there was no other word for it, ugly. True, some were less ugly than others, but his enviroment had bred an aesthetically 'picky' Mark. Even the most beautiful, flawless though they seemed in their own eyes, seemed plain to the Morph of Free Will.
Nergal knew how his creation felt. "You find them unattractive, no?"
Mark tried to think of a nice way of saying it. "Some of them aren't that bad."
Nergal laughed. "But they are like you."
Mark frowned. He was proud of his looks. "I think myself finer than they."
"I don't mean in look. You were made as an improved version of my image – there is nothing more flawless than that. But they have free will too."
"I suppose so," Mark said, although he didn't think that brought him any closer to the ugly people. He had free will – but what was the point? Mark had never applied it. Nor did he have reason to. Who would wish to disobey a god? It made no sense.
Mark covered his ears. He had been trying to resist the compulsion, but he could not. The hum of the crowd was too loud. Having never heard such a thing in the deathly quiet halls of Dragon's Gate, Mark had trouble bearing it.
That was when the music started. A hush fell upon the crowd, and Mark reluctantly allowed his hands to fall from his ears at his master's urging. The first few notes took his breath away. Then the music truly took off, and Mark was swept off his feet.
It would be difficult to describe the music itself, but the effect of it can be shown – music is as music does.
The effect of the music on Mark was mental at first, but slowly a physical sensation began to spread through his body. It made him feel weak, almost helpess, and yet so strong and capable. If he tried to stand, Mark knew he would fall back into his chair. The music rendered him incapable of standing. It was a power which towered over him. And yet, the power's presence was not undesirable. Mark wasn't sure if he could say he enjoyed the experience (at least, not the first time), but he was certain he would choose to undergo it again if given the choice.
At the end of the first Ode, Mark's entire existence, body and soul, felt weary. But there were many Odes to go.
As they left the theater, Nergal saw his creation had a hard time walking. "Was that to your liking?"
"I don't know, but it was fulfilling."
Nergal smiled. "I thought as much."
A/N: I know what you're all thinking. You're thinking about Einstein's Theory of Relativity.
Galileo's version of relativity stated that objects move relative to other objects. There was no universal frame in which objects move. For example, a person reading a book in the car is with respect to the car seat at rest but to a person watching the god move they are in motion. Objects can only move relative to other objects – for example, the person in the car is at rest relative to the seat but relative to the person watching the car is moving at a rate of 55 miles per hour. Any they are both moving hundreds of miles per hour with respect to the earth hurtling through space as the universe expands, even though they themselves are at rest.
Einstein's theory of relativity offers mathematical relationships to prove that is true, but it also stipulates that the speed of light is the same relative to all objects. Thus while one object may be in motion differently with respect to different objects, light moves the same with respect to any object. Or something like that. There is actually a lot more to it than that, but that's all I understand of the theory.
More importantly, the theory contributed to the rise of a school of thought known as 'Relativism'. Relativism is the idea that everything, including values and morals, is in a constant state of flux. Thus there are no fixed states or absolutes – it is all just stuff in motion. Thus there is no fixed good and evil – only different people's perception of morality changing throughout time. This can be summed up in the philosophy of Protagoras: Man is the measure. Things are as they seem to each individual. This philosophy was one of the major justifications people used to explain their behavior during the 1920's – the era of jazz, wild dancing, women outside the home wearing short skirts, drugs, bootlegged alchohol, and ungodly amounts of sex with an ungodly numbers of people prior to marriage.
Plato disliked this idea. He believed there are universal absolutes of good and evil. From him stems the school of thought known as Moral Absolutism – the idea there is a fix and universal standard for what is good and evil.
A debate rages on to this day over which is true. Problem for Moral Absolutists is that they can't prove the ethical systems they propose as absolutes or universals are true. Moral Relativists have the advantage just because philosophy can't test theories.
Two major problems face Moral Absolutists: The Is-Ought Problem and the Regressive Argument.
The Is-Ought problem is hard to follow. Basically, people take things they know (or believe) are true and then try to use them to justify what ought to be ethically true.
For example, since a laws of physics is it ought to guide human morality. Problem is, there is no proof that just because something is means it ought to do anything. Another example: People say truth, happiness, and kindness are good. This is because they are. Are is a plural expression for is. Because happiness is it ought to be considered a virtue, and virtue ought to be considered good because it is.
Problem is, you can't prove something ought to be anything else just because it is a particular something. The is is a fact (or belief), but the ought is just a theory.
The Regressive Argument is much simpler. It is basically somebody asking "Why?" Why?" and "Why?" whenever somebody proposes something is true. Eventually, due to human limitations, the person will be unable to answer the "Why?". Even if they could intellectually answer every "Why", the person could just keep asking "Why?", making it impossible for there to ever be a satisfactory conclusion. It would be a question-and-answer situation for all eternity.
XfobiaX – I heard read it in a fanfiction a long time ago and thought it was bull. Then I read it on Wikipedia. Granted, Wikipedia has many short comings as a source of information (as Steven Colbert joked – because the majority says something is true it is, no matter what the "specialists" or "professors" say) but the way in which it is said (logically and coherently) makes me believe it was true. Most stuff on wikipedia actually is true – it's just a lack of specialists can make it rather ambiguous or sketchy at some points (especially tough stuff, like Quantum Mechanics). I think the information came from some Japan-release only Fire Emblem book or guide.
SandyCaeser – Yes.
Eclipsedragon – Well, I'm glad you think it is deep, as 'philosophical' is one of the elements I strive hardest to include in my works.
IVIaedhros – I already know why (theoretically, if I get that far before stopping) Mark will betray Nergal. You are right in identifying Mark's reliance on logic as a means of justifying himself in any endeavor, but you missed another important part.
WildfireDreams – You're welcome, I guess.
The reason Mark doesn't think Nergal is ugly is because it never occurred to him to do so.