It's actually harder to focus with your eyes closed.
Maybe you're tired; Startouch elves like yourself need to sleep, even if not every day. And readjusting to the real world after so many years in that bleak mirror has made you more fatigued than you'd usually be.
Well, there is nothing in the definition of contemplation that means you can't look around at the same time. And you're sitting in front of the Moon Nexus itself right now - the most relevant view possible. You open your eyes.
The lake glows with the moon's light, reflected perfectly in the still water. It can almost imitate day, illuminating the fine details of your viewing platform and the green moss in every tiny crack. There's a sense of calmness and serenity rarely found outside sleep. It's as if you could jump through the lake without leaving a ripple and land in a different world entirely.
You can feel why so many people were drawn to this place. It hums with peace, beauty, magic. You can imagine how hard it was to destroy the old settlement here, and the intricate work that amplified and enhanced the power of the Moon Nexus. The reflections of a reflection of a reflection of the sun. It's beautiful still.
You were always more attached to the stars, distant and indifferent though they are. The moon, though - the moon has always been close to you. Helpful, although you've never understood it. Always reliable, as long as you know the pattern. You can respect that.
You lean forward. You're closer to the water than most of the Nexus's viewing platforms allow, which means you can clearly see your reflection. Perhaps you'd think that after three hundred years of literally being inside a mirror you would have no new thoughts on it, but you do.
Your eyes have definitely changed - where they had dark sclera barely more than a day ago, they're now a muted gold. You aren't sure, but you think they're glowing, along with the sparks on your skin and the lines running through your curved horns. The mark on your chest is well revealed by the open top buttons of your blouse. It's glowing again, though the patch in the centre is still duller than the rest. Your neck still looks like it's missing something, even after three centuries without your necklace.
Suddenly, you remember what Lujanne said about perception. It has merit, you think. You're just seeing the new things; the differences. What do other people see?
The only Startouch elf on the planet; something to be feared. An ancient woman wielding power that few have heard of, willing to strike down anyone she believes she has to.
A genius, capable of surprising anybody. Someone who would travel the entire world just to see what was out there, yet always remember those awaiting her return. Someone to be appreciated, whose flaws only make her better.
A girl from a place that no longer exists, who's even now a little out of her depth. A Startouch elf, antithetical to her own kind; relying on illusions to retain her anonymity, then finally revealing herself just to craft the biggest lie of them all.
All three perspectives, and many others, are true. They contradict, but they can co-exist. They all reflect whatever the "reality" of you is, just filtered through the observer's perspective. As you know better than almost anyone, humans are defined by their connections. The way people see you, and the way you see yourself, are all true - just true in different ways.
You can never fully know the "reality" of yourself, though, or of anything else. That's the sacrifice you make by thinking. It's only possible, only true, to know what you perceive. Reality will always lie beyond the reach of that perception, because you have to filter reality through that perception in order to perceive it at all.
Alright. So, illusion magic. Lujanne practically spoon-fed the knowledge to you; you just need to wrap your head around it.
Suggestions from others can influence your perception. They can influence how you experience reality. Illusions are a stronger form of that suggestion; a projection of how the caster wants you to experience reality.
It's not literally that - the same way future-sight isn't just finding and using connections. You use the Moon primal for that final ingredient, the part that makes the spell a spell and not a social theory. And for someone like you to do that, you must understand the entire Moon arcanum. You can't do that yet.
What else is there?
Rayla's information wasn't groundbreaking. You can safely assume that most of her magic is instinctual, born of the Moon magic in her body instead of consciously developed. What did she tell you about Moonshadow form? Right, you remember: her mentor said it's about understanding the balance between life and death.
Then it's probably necessary to understand the "balance of life and death" before accessing Moonshadow form. Is it about taking away both the good and the evil each person could add to the world? Destroying their unique perspective or something? But then, how does that give you a full-moon-induced form of enhanced stealth and power?
Rayla might have been born with that knowledge; maybe you should have asked her more about it. It's too late for that now. Perhaps you should come back to it later. In the meantime, Lujanne mentioned a different phrase: "Moon reflects sun as death reflects life."
Without the sun, you'd hardly notice the moon was there. You remember something you were told a long time ago... "There is no opposite to life, just as there's no opposite to heat. There is only the absence of it." Light always casts a shadow; life always makes the absence of itself starker than if that life had never existed.
The moon shows the light of the sun, with a slight delay. It isn't as bright or as strong, but it does reflect it. Moon mages can contact spirits, and could, using Moonhenge, go to a world beyond or between life and death.
"They're still here. They watch. They wait. But they are too proud to walk beside the living."
So, the sun in this metaphor is probably the human mind, then - if it was just the bodies, resurrecting anything with dark magic would be impossible. The mind, the part of you that perceives and experiences the world, leaves an impression on the Moonhenge-accessed world, which can then be communicated with.
You open your eyes again. You're not sure when you closed them. You take a deep breath of the cold mountain air and change the way you're sitting, as your legs are slightly numb. The Moon Nexus's silent humming seems... clearer now. You hope that's a good sign.
What's next? You think of the other Moon spells you remember. If the mind leaves an impression on the Moon-based reflection-y world, that must be how Historia Viventum works. Projecting an image of the past - that's like a mix of the illusion magic and spirit magic. The spirits aren't just impressions of minds, they're memories of people that have since passed away. It follows that memories of events and actions can likewise be brought into the world of the living. Most things, like dancing moonbeams or walking on walls, are either illusion-based or a result of drawing on the primal source. Even Moonshadow form makes more sense now. Perhaps it requires partially slipping into the strange in-between world, accessing the Moon primal that way.
And - ah, of course. Who could forget? Moonshadow elves have ways of keeping watch on whether people are alive or dead. Lotus flowers, you recall. And silver bindings. But that's easy, isn't it? You figured it out a long time ago.
They make a connection to the target. It isn't too hard; all it takes is an oath. A strong memory, perhaps, reinforced tenfold by the artefact's structure. When the mind and body are in this world, they say the target is alive. When only the memory remains, they say the target is dead.
And that... might be it.
Memories, reflections, perceptions, illusions, life and death. It all fits together; you know the feeling. And it's all linked to the moon.
Maybe it'd be easier to use a rune, but you don't have the patience to remember any.
You squeeze your eyes shut and feel the Moon primal.
You speak the first spell you think of: a very familiar illusion. You don't need a moonstone this time. It's easy to picture what you want, and then - a small tug at the Moon primal, which flows to you freely.
You open your eyes.
And you grin.
***
Author's Note:
I had fun writing this chapter even though it was pretty tricky, so I hope it wasn't too hard to understand! That's part one complete. I've resolved not to look at my stats too much for fear of my head exploding, but thank you all so much for your support so far!
Next time on Morning Star: And now for something completely different...