The Mountains Sang Their Silent Melody

XII

"Hear the holy words of Frances Solomon, prophet, saint, and sorcerer!" Ophelia declared to those gathered in the cavern. Over the past month and a half, word had spread throughout the mountains and valleys of Frances's abilities. Beginning with the newborn's mother, who had returned with Havilah as quickly as possible, others began to make their way to Frances's encampment.

It was mostly the nomadic mountain peoples, but a handful of townspeople from the nearby valley towns came as well. A few even came from the city and as far as the coast. Some from Frances's own town came for curiosity's sake. Of course, Frances's mothers were frequent visitors.

Each day, Frances taught a lesson, primarily drawing upon the wisdom of Opus. After this, they set aside some time to heal the people who came to them. Frances found that they could heal everything: wounds and illness, both mental and physical, negative emotions like grief and resentment. They were even able to cure one woman of her narcissism. Many came to Frances at of their own volition. Some were convinced by family or friends. Frances never healed any of them without their permission, unless they were too young to speak or unconscious. Opus had insisted that Frances practice in this manner. She had spent an entire afternoon teaching Frances about ethics.

Of course, when someone came to Frances to be healed urgently, everything was dropped. Frances had saved several lives.

Ophelia did not shy away from Frances's newfound renown. On the contrary, she took to it with enthusiasm. Though still uncomfortable around the adult men, Ophelia busied herself by functioning as a sort of advisor for Frances. She triaged the requests to be healed, welcoming newcomers, and ensured that everyone in the encampment had their needs met. She especially enjoyed minding children, often leading a band of roving young ones into the woods to play.

Standing on a rock in the middle of the cavern, Frances spent a moment examining the faces of those sitting before them. The cavern itself was full to the brim with Frances's devotees. Most were sitting on blankets or on the bare cavern floor. Others were standing with their backs to the cavern wall. Still others were spilling out of the entrance.

Frances took their habitual position, sitting cross-legged on their rock.

"I wish to speak today about my role as a sorcerer," Frances began, making certain to project their voice just as Opus had taught them. "As a sorcerer, I am a steward, a caretaker, of the natural world."

Frances allowed their words to sink in. "What is natural?" they asked their audience. "We are told at the beginning of the world that out of order came chaos. Through scientific discoveries, we know that the universe naturally returns to that chaos, called entropy.

"Today, we understand the word chaos as meaning destruction, or a great violence. This was not always the case. Originally, the word chaos meant void, or abyss, or nothingness. Out of which all things came. Imagine, everything in nothingness. A magnificent harmony that existed before order created the concept of division itself.

"We sorcerers, we have been given a role to return a piece of that harmony, that chaos. So you see, I came not to destroy as the Corpus fears, but to reconcile. Order is an unnatural state. Where there is order, let us sow harmony. Any division we understand is unnatural. We cannot separate ourselves from all else, especially the natural world.

"But why?" A voice in the crowd asked. Frances turned to her and nodded, allowing her to speak.

"If the natural state is nothingness, should we not familiarize ourselves with nothingness, and reject the material world just as the Corpus says?" the woman asked.