Morrigana strode into her
father’s weapons room, small bells tinkling in her hair. Her Aunt
Kyra had braided them in this morning after breakfast, and the sound
had kept the hybrid company as she explored the castle.
All these enchanted weapons,
and I never see him use them. But, he has been spending a lot of time
training me and the others. She smirked. Maybe one of them is
for me.
The hybrid paused when a soft
song came to her. Images of battle and victory filled her head, and
Morri focused on the black swords hanging on the wall. They were
alone, the other weapons kept away from them.
She knew the swords, but had
never seen them. The Lord Shalafae wielded Stormbringer and
Mournblade, two Chaos blades. Her father was unstoppable with them,
though he rarely drew them anymore.
Father,
she mused as she approached the swords. It’s still strange to
think that. He sired me, and trains me, and lays with me. And he’ll
grant me revenge. Morrigana’s thoughts turned dark as she reached for the
blade on the left.
The singing increased as she
grabbed the hilt.
“Put it down, Daughter.”
Alzair’s voice was harsh, his presence filling the room. He was
deadly serious and would brook no resistance.
Morrigana turned toward him,
Mournblade in hand. “Or you’ll do what?” She grinned madly as
the images of battle increased. Soon, she would attack the dragons.
Soon, her mother would pay for lying to the hybrid. Soon, all would
fear her.
Lord Shalafae strode directly
to Stormbringer, his eyes hard. “This is no game, child.” The
black sword howled as he took it up.
She smiled, playful and mildly
crazy. “Everything is a game. You said so.” Black iron hummed as
she swung it in figure eights.
Her father glared, unmoving.
“These are not. Put the sword down.” He refused to name them.
Morrigana laughed as she sprang
forward, slashing at him. “Stop being so dour. Play with me.” He
black hair swung with her movements, the bells tinkling.
Alzair blocked easily, crimson
eyes stern. The albino Sidhehan had been riding recently and wore
plain leather pants and tunic. The thin black clothes were enough to
hide his movements, and Morrigana misjudged his parry. She nearly
lost her balance as he dodged, and the smile left her face.
“Do not start this fight.”
Alzair swung again, driving her back. “Put down the sword, and
we’ll find another way to play.”
The hybrid frowned, petulant,
and thrust with Mournblade. “You never let me pick what we do. Are
you scared I’ll kill you with your own blade?”
His eyes hardened. “So be
it.”
When he attacked, Morrigana
realized she was ill-prepared to face him. Shalafae had millions of
years of experience, and she only a few. Metal shrieked against metal
as she blocked and parried, unable to go on the offensive.
Time froze. Morrigana gasped at
the suddenness of blood on his face, and then the breath died in her
lungs. Why was she on the floor? Why couldn’t he move? Why was her
father so sad?
Glancing down, she saw
Stormbringer punched through her chest, just to the right of her
heart. Realization began sinking in. Her pulse suddenly raced, and
she felt her heart pounding against the sword. She screamed in pain.
“I told you not to start that
fight.” Alzair knelt before her, breathing deeply as he dispelled
the illusion. “Have you learned your lesson?”
The training illusion was done,
but the agony remained. Morrigana continued to scream.
Her soul was being eaten by the
chaos blade. Hungry and villainous, it wanted her dead. She was
Shalafae’s new weapon, and that couldn’t be allowed. Pulling at
her tunic, Morrigana felt blood running between her breasts.
“Daughter?” Her father
gripped her shoulder, gave her a little shake. “It’s over. You’re
fine.” He cupped her cheek with his other hand.
Her only response was to shriek
and collapse into his arms.
Even lost in pain and dying,
she felt her father’s concern. He bundled her up and teleported her
to his room. “Kyra!” He bellowed for his sister, and Morrigana’s
voice lifted wordlessly with his.
Blood
burned her skin as her life poured out onto the sheets. The young
woman thrashed in torment, consciousness fading. Scream after
scream tore through her, even when her aunt laid soothing hands on her
face.
“What happened, Brother?”
"The sword scenario. She
couldn’t resist them, and she couldn’t win.” A pause in speech
as he held her down. “But when it ended, she was still wounded.”
Kyra’s healing power surged
through the half-dragon. Morrigana knew her soul was being eaten,
that no healing could stop it. Her surety strengthened when Kyra
gasped in shock.
“Hold on to her with
everything you have,” the Sidhehan healer ordered. Lord Shalafae
tightened his grip, and used Chaos magic to bundle her up with the
sheets. Warmth flooded her soul, gripped her heart, and she felt her
father’s soul against her own. Morri writhed in his grip, lost in a
twilight of pain and death, but faded no further.
“Can you stop it?” Alzair’s
voice was soft and low, and the ache in it caused Morrigana to stop screaming.
He cares about me. He will
be sad if I die. Suppressing another shriek, the hybrid reached
for her father, tried to hold on just for him.
“There’s so much blood.”
Kyra was distracted by her work, and her voice came out as a murmur.
“The wound is real. Not psychological.” The healer grunted, and
pain faded beneath more energy. “She’s really been cut by that
blade.”
Shalafae caressed her hair, and
Morrigana forced her eyes open. Tears glittered on his cheeks, and
she wanted to wipe them away. Morri tried to move, but the sheets
kept her restrained.
Vertigo ripped through her,
causing Morrigana to sigh in relief as pain faded. She floated in a
sea of tension, but she was no longer dying. Though she ached and was
weary, she was safe in her father’s arms.
“I don’t
know if she’ll heal right.” Kyra moved fro the bed, voice gravely
with her weariness. “I’ve done the best I can, but I don’t know
if it will be enough.”
“That’s all I ask,”
Alzair replied. Ensorcelled sheets released her, and Morrigana
whimpered as her father pulled her tightly to him. Kyra stepped
through the aether to leave them alone.
Neither of them spoke.
Morrigana basked in his presence, grateful to be alive, happy to be
in his arms. Shalafae stroked her hair, arms trembling as he held
her.
“Do not ever scare me like
that again,” he finally said in a voice choked with emotion.
Morrigana squeezed him close.
“I promise.”
