The Core’s first thought on waking was ‘Where am I?’ followed quickly by ‘That’s a big lady,’ and ‘She’s awfully pretty.’
The Lady in question sniffed at the first mention of herself but seemed mollified by the second. Smiling brightly she leaned down, spooking the Core, before speaking in a voice that could cause a core to give up its last drop of Aether.
“Well now, you’re finally sentient. We’ve been waiting to meet you for some time. Well, I suppose it has only been a week since you went to sleep to evolve but to beings who have lived for millennia even a week can seem like such a long time when you are waiting for something. Like a second that drags on forever.” She chuckled and the sound was like a brook, happy and carefree.
“Now, now Maph’Ira. Give the young one some space. And do dim your Aura dear. We don’t want it to turn into a simpleton every time you speak.” A new voice cut through the tall lady’s speech and the Core shifted its perspective and found that it was surrounded by 7 chairs and each one contained a lord or lady.
On the highest chair sat a noble-browed man with wise eyes. Dressed in deep blues the man gave a subtle nod to the Core in greeting before gesturing to the rest of the people seated. “We are the High Council, greatest among the spirits of this land. My name is Tal’Irieth. You are of interest to us in that you are both artificial and yet real in an undeniable way.”
‘I’m real?’ The Core thought. ‘I’m real.’ It thought more firmly as the idea settled into its mind. ‘You are tall.’ It stated seriously to the noble-browed lord.
The Core thought it saw some of the lords and ladies hide smiles at this but the lord in front of him continued with a small huff. “Yes. Normally Dungeon Cores are natural occurrences, either when a Monster Core becomes one or a crystal of pure Aether is over-saturated to the point of forming the beginning of a Spark Matrix."
"In the case of the latter, Higher Spirits such as us seed the new matrix with one of the spirits the Maker has already created and ignite the Spark. We then offer the new core two different paths and help them in their new life. These cores are called Divine Cores by the various races because of their capacity to create new life from Aether.
"In the case of a Monster Core, it is because they naturally hunger for Aether in all its forms. When they reach a point of over-saturation the polarity shifts and they begin to absorb Aether passively instead of needing to feed their relentless hunger. So instead they build elaborate traps, oftentimes allowing their real bodies to fall away to craft a labyrinth of earth and stone, to lure meals inside. We give them nothing. These dungeons are called Feral Cores due to their monstrous and devouring nature.”
“You were neither of these natural occurrences. The archmage who crafted you sought to create his own personal Divine Core, enslaving it to his will before using it to supplement his great magic. He desired a new body and believed, perhaps rightly, that his creation would be able to do that with enough time. He could have then lived forever, hopping from body to body. It is fortunate therefore that he died of natural causes so soon after you were taken from him. I would have found it difficult to smite him otherwise.”
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The Core hummed mentally at this. ‘I was created? Made? My creator is dead? Why is that fortunate?’
Once again the inner dialogue of the Core met with a response of barely concealed smiles. The lord continued, “Well for one his death meant that you are free rather than a slave to his whims. Beyond that, his death served two purposes which, at first, perplexed us. We had meant to have you destroyed but did not bargain for the attachment Calamvor had towards you."
"Part of his Spark Essence or spirit ignited your Spark Matrix but you were too small to hold a full Spark. So we shaved off most of what Calamvor was trying to shove in, leaving his instincts about Aether's manipulation but removing the higher traits like personality and such. You were too small for the normal gifts we give Divine Cores so we simply gave you boons."
"We allowed you to grow and monitored your progress. While your shell might indeed be artificial, your soul and Spark are anything but. We are of a mind to let you continue existing but we wish to ask you: If you were to continue existing, what would you do? Would you devour and destroy? Or would you create new life?”
The Core sat and thought about it for a while, its newly evolved mind turning the questions over and over. ‘I want to be like the queen.’ It thought finally, projecting the image of the queen tending to her brood. ‘I want to explore.” It sent an image of the outside world it had seen through the mouse’s eyes. ‘I want to create.’ It sent an image of the ant hybrid it had made. ‘And I want to play.’ Its final image was of the baby mice playing within the dungeon, something in their carefree nature calling to it through its memories.
The High Council sat, seemingly stunned, before one of them, a green figure with a lithe and roguish appearance burst out laughing. “Oh, you are fun!” He said cackling to himself while the other Spirits looked at him with reproach. “What?” He said with an affronted look. “I’m just saying he is a fun guy for someone who had half a soul just last week. And to be honest, his dungeon has proven more amusing than the last one hundred years of the mortal world.”
“While that may indeed be the case,” Tal’Irieth replied huffily, “Please have some decorum Trik’Weri.” The green lord simply smirked and rolled his eyes. But the Core was interested in an entirely different reason. ‘I am a He?’ It asked internally. Something about that reverberated through its Spark Matrix in a way it couldn’t fully process. The idea was something outside of its instincts only brought to the forefront by its new sapience. ‘I am a He.’ It looked around to find the High Council staring at it.
With a gruff cough, Tal’Irieth responded to the internal question. “Well, strictly speaking, you are perhaps one of the few existences that does not have a specific gender due to your artificial shell. You were created to be inhabited and enslaved after all. But you were created by a man for his soul to connect with and his Spark ignited yours. We may have gotten rid of his personality so that you might have your own but that doesn’t mean his Spark didn’t affect you. It is not much of a surprise that your Sapience formed itself around that subconscious ideal.”
The Core simply looked up at Tal’Irieth and stated, ‘You’re kind of smart aren’t you.’ The lord ignored him and continued. “Anyway, are we all in favor then?” The other lords and ladies nodded and the Tal’Irieth continued. “Then we bestow upon you the name Valterra Unok’Davaas. It means ‘The Playground of the Gods’ in the old tongue.” Tal’Irieth smiled down at the slightly bewildered core. “Now I do believe it is time for you to wake. Do keep us entertained.”