"Are you sure this is what
you want to do?" Alrick asked, laying a hand on Morrigana's
shoulder.
The hybrid looked up with a
smile, basking in her father's attention. He'd changed his appearance
with his name, but her heart would know him anywhere. "Of course
I am."
He dropped his towering figure
into a leather and bone chair. Blond haired, blue eyed, rugged and
muscular, Alrick was heathen and wild, a fur-clad and scarred
warrior. "Bards go through a lot of training to hone their
talents."
Alrick smiled, eyes glittering.
"So my little girl has taken my words to heart?"
"The loung are fun,
but too easy. And it takes so long between litters. Breeding just
isn't my thing." Morrigana leaned back in her chair, playing
with the amber bard jewel. "I want creativity and instant
gratification."
"And you'll do them for
yourself?" Her father summoned a horn of ale and took a deep
draught.
"For us, at first. No
point embarrassing myself and ruining my reputation." The
half-dragon chuckled, imagining her victims laughing before she
killed them.
Lord Shalafae took another
drink and gave his daughter a loving look. "I have faith in your
skills."
She grew serious, frowning.
Their bond was strong, sharing information on a subconscious level.
"You believe I could actually be good at this."
One brow rose quizzically. "Why
don't you?"
Morrigana paused to give
consideration to her question. She'd always loved storytellers and
the bards, finding joy in the magic they brought. Her life had no end
of excitement, and thus no need for escapism. Yet a well-crafted tale
was her guilty pleasure.
So with the empire building
done again, the dread assassin had chosen storytelling as her hobby.
Creative fun, whimsical, bard was far removed from empress.
"I never thought about
this as a serious thing," Morrigana slowly replied. "Making
up stories was just going to be a fun way to pass the time until the
next war or empire or whatever."
Alrick smiled, toying with his
ale horn. "And what if I never start one again?" She was
shocked, and he continued as he stared. "I've passed plenty of
ages without being a warlord. Some millenia call for research and
quiet contemplation. Would you take your tales serious if this were
one of them?"
Morrigana blinked, and slowly
licked her lips. "You pose an interesting scenario." The hybrid fiddled with the bard gem, listening to the half-started story
inside. Everything was hers to command when she applied her
imagination. Fights turned out better, love grew quicker, respect was
stronger. Nothing would be denied her.
And if she honed her talents,
she could gain an audience. A following. Viewers would want more from
her, would clamour to dwell in her bardic world.
"I do believe I could,"
Morrigana said. Her father took her hand and gave it a squeeze.
