The rock face splits before my pick, and I am struck. Not my body. My being is struck… my very soul.
I teeter away from the wall, putting out a foot to steady myself. My hand goes to my chest, rubbing the plate that covers my internal workings. But why? My soul cannot reside there for it is immaterial.
Lamp light from my helmet casts wild shadows along the rock wall. Suddenly, my vision is filled with a purple mass. A purple ball of fuzz, held in a crevice of the rock. Reaching in with bare hands, my fingers sink into the hairy surface. It is the size of my fist. It is pulsating, beating.
I fall into the wall, like diving into a pool. I am weightless. I am looking back at the surface. I am looking back at myself. I am looking back at me "Tzurk" my arm outstretched, hand gripping the new me.
Tzurk's face is blank. His, I mean, my old body falls limp to the ground. His helmet rolls across the floor, and bumps against the wall. The lamp flickers.
I am the mountain. This is what it is to be the mountain. My feet go deep into the planet's surface. I do not feel large, for the sky above is wide and deep. I feel small. Clouds encircle me. They are a shroud over my shoulders, a garland around my head.
Rivers of water bubble up from inside me, and pour down my face, back, and arms, until they fall from my fingertips into the valley lake. Though made of many kinds of rock, I am not dead. My form is teaming with life. I am a home for bugs, animals, molds, and fish in the water of my belly. The assortment of greens that course in and out of me is beyond count. The roots conspire with the water to split me open, and I give them ground, then take it back from elsewhere.
My mind takes in the array of mined passages cut into me. The miners have cut them, like ants, burrowing down from the surface they have come. Downward I search the tunnels. But what am I seeking?
My mind rests upon the lowest crew, the Ditch Mongers. I see one lying on the cave floor. He seems to be a long forgotten memory. A vision of something from a millennia ago. Then, I know it is my body. But what was my name?
The rest of the Ditch Monger's are coming. They are coming with their tools to work. They will find the fallen body. They will bury it, because it is dead. A decision must be made. Do I remain as I am, or return to what I was?
Meva.
I will go back for that name!
Though I know she will visit this mountain, she will not know it is me. If only I could make her into the mountain to stand alongside me! How we would tower into the heavens together. Our roots would entangle and we would face the storms together. Our unfailing bodies would endure together, forever.
But if she never comes, I will never meet her. A rage burns inside my person, and I feel lava bubbling in the bowels of my foundation! If remaining here means being isolated from Meva, then curse this mountain! I must return to my old, frail, worm-of-a-mortal body! But what was my name?
ruckT? ZKrut? KurtZ?
A Ditch Monger's voice booms out, "Anyone seen Tzurk?"
Tzurk! That was my name!
The Ditch Monger crew is coming. They will find my body on the ground. Assume I had been killed by the mountain or by the one whose touch is death. They will bury my body, and I will be trapped here.
How do I return? It must be by the same path by which I came so long ago. The purple ball of fuzz!
It rests in its crevice. Tzurk must touch it again for me to return. But he lies prostrate. Dead. He cannot come to me; I must go to him.
My thoughts go to the weakness of the rock that surrounds the purple fuzz-ball. With a small effort, I split the slab of rock free. It shatters on the cave floor, sending a shower of rock across Tzurk's body. With it, the fuzz-ball is carried, until it touches Tzurk.
I am swimming up from the depths of the pool. My head breaches the surface, and I sit up in my old body, just as the rest of the Ditch Monger crew arrives.
Borox runs to me, "Tzurk! That whole wall just broke across you! Are you hurt?"
I cover the fuzz-ball with my fingers. But my mind can't form a response, so I nod. The crew begins their work. I hide the fuzz-ball in my helmet, and put it back on. I look up. The Abominate is watching me.