Exhale, inhale, hold breath, exhale, inhale, hold breath—
Monster.
Morgan buried her face into her blanket, gasping, trying to shut out the jeers and bellows from the guards that were only there in her head.
Crazy monster.
“I’m not crazy. I’m not…I’m not…”
She had to breathe. She needed to try to do what Renia taught her. Crawling out of her bed, she walked to the bathroom and washed her face, trying to get the cold water to clear her mind.
It helped for a moment. In the quiet night, with only the sound of water trickling into the sink, Morgan washed her face, and used a comb to gently smoothen her feathers.
She felt a bit better, but she didn’t want to go to sleep. She knew that another nightmare awaited her. But…maybe…
Grimacing, Morgan made her way to the pantry again. It was only going to be a small snack.
Yes, just a small snack, like the last few times she’d sneaked cookies, or pastries, or just even a raw Dale-brick from the shelves. She had thought about making Hearthsange, but it was too risky.
The biscuit she chewed did make her feel better, but it did nothing to assuage the guilt she felt. After she finished it and tucked herself back into bed, she just lay there, awake, staring at the ceiling, fearing the coming of sleep.
----------------------------------------
“Morgan!”
Morgan straightened up, blinking. Wasn’t she in her bed? Sleeping? This had to be a dream. Why was Dayren, the short, half-human-half-goblin mage poking her with his staff?
“Miss Morgan, this is the second time you’ve fallen asleep this hour,” said Dayren sternly.
“Oh…” Morgan blinked her exhausted mind finally catching up to her. “Oh! Sorry sir. I…fuck—shit—” Morgan clamped her hands over her mouth. She could hear the kids around her murmuring, and a few of them even snickering.
Dayren, scowling now crossed his arms. “Morgan, for poor language and behaviour, I’m afraid I’m assigning you a short one hour detention. Report to Madame Blazey after school. I’ll inform Frances.”
“B-but I have a lesson with her!” Morgan stammered.
“Frances will understand,” said Dayren curtly. He turned on his heel and returned to the front.
Morgan stared after him, her eyes wide now. All she could hear was a buzzing sound in her ears along with the drone of Dayren’s voice as he talked about arithmetic. Boring, stupid arithmetic that she’d already learned from her tutors years ago.
That spark of anger blossomed when she remembered what Frances was going to teach her and Hattie today. She was going to teach them fire spells. Explosive fire spells that could topple buildings and incinerate trees. She was going to miss that because of useless fucking math.
That anger kept her awake for the rest of the class, not that she paid much attention. She threw her study materials into her bag and stormed off toward the cafeteria for lunch, deftly weaving through the crowd of students. She might as well get a good meal before Frances was going to scold her.
Something hit her, shoulder, Morgan shoved right back and continued on through the courtyard to the crowd lining up to get into the Round Hall. A moment later, however, a hand grabbed her shoulder. She almost relfexively elbowed the person behind her, but at the last moment, grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.
“Hey! Apologize for that!” snapped a centaur.
Morgan turned around. This was…John if she remembered correctly. Sely was a little ways away, helping the harpy Diana get up.
Wincing, Morgan sighed. “Shit, sorry about that.” She turned to continue to make her way, only for the centaur to grab her again.
“You could try to mean it,” said John, frowning.
Morgan narrowed her eyes, and slapped the centaur’s hand off her shoulder. “Excuse me? I did mean it you fucking numbskull.” Grimacing, Morgan rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, fuck. Look, I’m really sorry—”
“What is your problem, Morgan?” Diana demanded, walking up to her. Morgan blinked, not sure when she’d ever heard the harpy speak, but she had a surprisingly stern voice.
“There’s no f—problem. I’m just not having a good day and I’m sorry now can you just please leave me the fuck alone?” Morgan groaned, backing away.
“Not until you apologize to John,” Diana said, grabbing Morgan’s clawed leg with her own claws. The sensation sent a violent shiver up Morgan’s leg. Before she knew what she was doing, she was shoving Diana away. This time the harpy managed to stay on her feet, but her silver-grey eyes were stormy with fury.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m sorry—”
“What the hell is your problem?” Diana squawked.
“I’m having a really fucking bad day alright now can you just leave me alone!”
Violet magic arched out from Morgan’s body. The tendrils were indiscriminate and before Morgan could react, they started pushing and yanking students, from all around her.
“Shit—shit!” Morgan drew Lightbreaker and tried to grab onto her wildly out of control power. Somehow the violet tendrils dissipated, but it was far too late. In the courtyard, sprawled all around her were shocked, and a little stunned children and teenagers who were trying to pull their friends and themselves up.
And to make matters worse, Frances and Hattie were making their way through the crowd, checking up on fallen and dazed kids as they did so.
“Is anybody hurt?” Frances called out.
“Um, I don’t think so, miss,” said Sely, eyes wide.
Frances gave the scene a look over and nodded. “Good. Everybody please continue with lunch. Morgan, come with me.”
Tears filling her eyes, a sinking feeling in her stomach, Morgan bowed her head and followed her guardian through the crowd, knowing nothing could hide her from the many stares fixed on her.
----------------------------------------
Frances shut the door behind them and took a deep breath before facing her student.
The harpy-troll was trying to avoid looking at her directly, even as she tried to keep her head up. Her wings shook, even as she stiffened.
“Morgan, what happened?”
“Fuck if I know—”
“Morgan—”
“I just ran into them by accident! I even said sorry but the little shits kept wanting a better one and I couldn’t stop swearing.”
Frances nodded, “Ah. Go on.”
Morgan blinked, finally meeting her mentor’s gaze. Frances wasn’t smiling, but neither was she scowling. Apart from her crossed arms, her expression was neutral and attentive.
“I…The harpy-Diana, grabbed me and I pushed her back. She got angry, asked me “what’s your problem” and I just wanted her to go away. That’s when…when my magic went out of control,” Morgan said.
“And it pushed all the students around you away?” Frances asked.
“Yeah…” Morgan swallowed, trying not to remember the field of bodies from her nightmares, which looked far too much like students pushed to the ground. “I’m in trouble am I?”
Frances’s eyes widened. She had an almost surprised look on her face.
“In trouble with who?”
“You. The School…you aren’t going to just let me go without punishment. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“No, but as my mother taught me a long time ago, punishment isn’t just about making things fair.” Frances pursed her lips. “And even if I wanted to be fair, I can’t until I know the entire situation.”
As Frances expected, Morgan froze, her breath catching in her throat.
“Morgan, I don’t know what’s going on. I only know that for the last week you’ve been exhausted. That there is food missing from the pantry, and that you’re more irritable than before.”
Morgan stepped back and it took all of Frances’s control not to go after the girl, but she managed to stand still.
“Don’t you already know?”
“I have guesses, Morgan, but no, I honestly don’t.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Your guesses are usually good. Just do whatever your fucking want already.”
“What I want is to help you. I don’t want to discipline you for discipline’s sake. I want to know why you did what you did.”
“Well they were pissing me off! I already said sorry and they just kept coming and touching me. So I hit back!”
Frances frowned. “You think you should have hit them?”
“What—well no, but they didn’t stop! They kept touching me and I didn’t know what else to do!”
Frances nodded to herself, much to her student’s wide-eyed confusion.
“I understand. Did you swear when you were apologizing to them?”
“Well yeah I know that wasn’t going to help but I don’t know how to fucking stop—shit.”
“Shit indeed,” said Frances, smiling briefly. “When you were apologising to them, did you think about maybe using a more appropriate tone?”
Morgan rubbed her tired eyes and tried to remember. “Um, kind of but…” She shook her head, biting back a yawn. “Fuck. I don’t know. I just…nothing was going right. I didn’t know what to fucking say. It was so stupid. Why didn’t they just get I wanted to be left alone! That this was all some stupid accident?”
“I think it’s because misunderstandings happen, Morgan, whether we’d like it or not. You remember that I misunderstood what you did to protect Hattie. It’s why I wanted to ask you what happened,” said Frances. She smiled again. “In this case, the only thing we can try to control is our own reaction to the misunderstanding, which you tried to do—”
“But couldn’t because my magic is fucked and I’m a monster,” Morgan growled.
Frances winced. “You’re not a monster, Morgan.”
The harpy-troll sniffled. “Well I fucking feel like one. I keep hurting people, no matter how hard I try.” She glanced at Frances. “Everybody’s right to be scared of me…I bet even you are.”
Frances opened her mouth to immediately deny it, but the words caught in her throat.
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“I don’t think that’s relevant,” she managed.
Morgan glared at Frances. “But you are scared of me aren’t you!” she demanded, her tone taking on a shrill note.
Frances swallowed but try as she might, she couldn’t deny the slight bit of apprehension she sometimes felt around her charge. Her well-intentioned and yet, dangerous and almost always angry student.
“You do worry me, but that doesn’t change that I care about you, Morgan.” She approached the harpy-troll, keeping her hands down. “I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you’re hurt and frightened and I know and trust that you want to be good and be kind. But you have been hurt, Morgan, you can’t expect to just know the right way to do things.”
Morgan didn’t move, she watched Frances approach but she didn’t move when Frances extended her hands, palms facing up.
“Do you trust me?” Frances asked, in quiet voice.
Morgan, despite the bitter, burning frustration and suspicion in her heart, nodded. “I do. I just…I—this is so stupid.”
“It’s not going to be an easy road and that’s for sure,” said Frances.
Morgan nodded. She reached out with her hand, only to pause and meet Frances’s eyes. “Why do you care, though? Why do you even care about me?”
“You’re my student,” said Frances, blinking.
“Yeah but I’m not…look I’m not Hattie. I don’t know what’s her deal with herself. But she listens to you, is smart, has great control of her magic. Hell she’s even casting your lightning spell. I get why you care about her, but why do you care about me?”
The questioning, hesitant look in Morgan’s eyes took Frances aback. She hadn’t really considered the answer to this question. She knew immediately what Morgan meant. Frances did care about her boyfriend’s niece, more than she expected to, and she worried for her, more than she thought she would. Taking care of Morgan had quite quickly stopped being the ‘right thing to do.’
“Well, Timur cares about you and I want him to be happy, so I want you to be happy as well.” Frances swallowed. That wasn’t quite it, but…
“To be honest, you remind me of myself when I was younger, Morgan. And…the one thing I wanted most of all when I was thirteen was someone to…to just care even a little about me.” Frances wiped her eyes. “You’re not me, but I…I think I have a bit of an idea of what you are feeling.”
Morgan stared at Frances, her eyes moist. Using the back of her hand to dry her tears, Morgan sniffled.
“Okay. So…what…what do you want me to do?”
Frances smiled. “I want you to listen first. I was trying to explain why I think you pushed them away and why you couldn’t control yourself. You…for whatever reason, have been very tired. And I’m guessing that back when you were being kidnapped, your captors never touched you gently, right? They just beat you.”
“Or did their shitty operations,” Morgan hissed.
She was surprised, when she heard a sharp intake of breath and noticed Frances visibly clenching her hands into fists, before immediately releasing them.
“Pardon me, I…I sometimes have trouble controlling my anger too.”
“What.”
Frances nodded. “I’ll explain later, but what I’m trying to say is that for the last year, every time you were touched, bad things would happen. Over time, it became something that makes you uncomfortable, and eventually became a trigger.”
Morgan blinked, her jaw dropping open. “Like…the ones you have too?”
Frances nodded.
“But why did I just hit back or push them—” Morgan froze. “Oh.”
“What did you realize, Morgan?”
“I…the guards. If I kept them scared of me, if I fought back, they’d be more careful, try not to get on my bad side.” Morgan ran her hands through her head. “Are you saying…that I got used to hitting back?”
Frances sighed. “I would say it became a habit. It was a defensive habit that protected you while you were in captivity, Morgan. It kept you safer, it’s just now in School, it’s not a habit that you need any more.”
Morgan groaned. “So I fucked myself.”
“You protected yourself for a year in a horrible situation that few people had gone through. You developed a habit, yes, but you’ve actually done quite well in controlling it. It just seems that today, you were so tired, you fell back on instinct, kind of like your swearing,” said Frances.
Morgan nodded slowly. It all made sense now. She hadn’t been able to sleep, so she couldn’t focus in class and got detention. That had made her more frustrated, which meant she couldn’t keep her wits about her and that led her to hitting back.
“If you don’t mind, Morgan, can you tell me why you seem to be so tired?” Frances asked. “I…I suspect that you have been the person using the pantry, as I doubled the safety spells around the house, but I honestly don’t know why you can’t sleep, and seem to be eating so much.” The mage pursed her lips and grimaced. “If it really wasn’t you then we might have a serious problem.
Morgan blinked and frowned at her mentor. “Wait, you don’t know?”
Frances shook her head. “Don’t know what?”
“I…” Morgan cringed, bowing her head. “I’m sorry. I…I have been eating from your pantry. I…I’m sorry, Frances. I just…” She wiped her eyes again, exhaustion and tears shivering her body. “I can’t stop fucking it up.”
Warm hands pressed a handkerchief into her fingers.
“Hey, it’s just food, Morgan. I’m more concerned as to why you didn’t just ask me. Were you not eating enough at dinner?”
Using the handkerchief to wipe her eyes, Morgan met Frances’s gaze. Her teacher really didn’t know. She had no idea about the nightmares. She supposed she should be glad that Renia kept her secrets, but why…why did she felt now more than ever that she should have told Frances from the start?
“I…I couldn’t sleep well. Eating makes me feel better because…because…I’ve been having nightmares.”
Frances winced. “Oh. I’m so sorry, Morgan. I had hoped you wouldn’t be getting those.”
“Did you guess I was getting them?” Morgan whimpered.
Frances sighed. “I had wondered because I got them too. Did Renia tell you about mine?”
“She…she did.” Morgan swallowed. “Thanks for letting her share that with me by the way.”
“You’re most welcome. Now I can’t say when the nightmares will stop. I still get them, sometimes.”
“You still do?” Morgan gasped.
“Very rarely now. They can be managed. I’ll see if we can prescribe you some sleeping pills and I’ll prepare a nightmare kit for when you do wake up in the middle of the night.” Frances took a deep breath. “If you ever feel like you need me, please, don’t be afraid to wake me up. I will never get angry at that. I woke my mother up many times when I came to Durannon and I woke my friends up as well.”
“Really?” Morgan stammered.
Frances nodded, remembering all the times her mother had held her as she’d cried, and all the cups of Hearthsange her friends and her had shared when she’d woken up in her tent, screaming.
“As for your punishment, first you’ll say sorry to the people you knocked over. Then, you’ll be going to your afternoon detention with Miss Blazey. Tomorrow, you’re going to accompany me to Respite.”
“Respite?”
“It’s where all the orphans that live in Athelda-Aoun stay. We’re going to be working on a new extension to the building.” Frances smiled. “Think you’re up for the challenge?”
A watery laugh escaped Morgan’s lips and she nodded. She felt a lot better than she had.
“Frances…thanks, and…sorry.”
“I forgive you, Morgan, and you’re welcome,” said Frances. She reached out her hand again, and this time, Morgan took it without hesitation.
----------------------------------------
Erisdale…
“You know, this army still needs a name,” said Ginger.
“I think we have more pressing concerns than a name, Ginger,” said Elizabeth, looking up from her map to gaze upon the walls ahead of them.
The pass that Elizabeth had identified was known as the Blood Wall because it was usually where executed criminals were hung from and where the bodies of traitors were displayed. It was also built from local red sandstone, giving the wall it’s famous baked red color.
Aside from the fact that the wall was made from softer stone, Elizabeth had identified the wall as the spot where they’d attack based on the terrain. The Blood Wall stretched between two craggy mountains that could be scaled, but only with difficulty as they had sheer rocky faces that towered over the land in front of them.
“What are they called? The mountains I mean?” Ayax asked.
“The one to the east,” said Martin, pointing to the peak on their right, “was called the Spire, but now it is called Mount Revenge. The story goes that a knight avenged the death of his love by luring his love’s killer to the peak and then duelling him.”
“And the other one’s called the Beak because it’s shaped like a bird’s beak. I heard it used to be called Sir Forlorn as it stands alone,” said Ginger. “There’s no other mountain or peak beside it and it just falls down toward the Grey Cliffs.”
“Mm hm, so our plan is to bombard the walls and breach them?” Ayax asked.
“Yes. I chose this spot because the Blood Wall is the longest wall of all Erisdale’s walls and it also has the weakest gatehouse,” said Elizabeth, pointing at the wall’s centre. A large square gatehouse rose there, and even from this distance, they could see cannon mounted on its top. A ditch was dug in front of the wall and gatehouse, with a stone bridge connecting the road to the gate.
“It’s got quite a few guns on it, though,” said Martin.
“Yes, but the actual design is weak. There’s no moat, no ditch and from what Edana told me it was built more than a hundred years ago, before cannons were invented,” said Elizabeth. “It won’t withstand our bombardment for long.”
“We’ll have to dig up to it, though and build batteries,” said Ginger, watching teams of soldiers dig zig-zagging siege trenches that inched toward the walls. “You sent the cavalry to watch the other areas of the city didn’t you?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. We can’t use them right now, but we can certainly employ them to help us surround the city—”
“General! General Elizabeth!” bellowed a goblin, riding up on a pony. “Lady Atlatl’s cavalry are under attack! We need reinforcements!”
“By whom?” Elizabeth demanded, even as she ran for her horse.
“Otherworlders! And another cavalry regiment!”
“Shit! Martin, bring your riders over. Ginger, stay here. Ayax you’re with me!” Elizabeth snapped. “Hopefully we’ll get there in time!”
----------------------------------------
Erisdale City..
Earl Darius of Erisdale downed another glass of watered wine as he reviewed the reports on his desk. Setting it down, he flicked his hand, sending the serving girl by his desk scurrying forward to refill his goblet.
The Earl eyed the dark-haired girl, wondering if she was pretty enough to accompany him to bed. Noting the birth spot on her lip, Darius decided she wasn’t and went back to reading his reports.
As he did so, though, he noted the girl’s eyes widen at something by his office’s entrance. Looking up, Darius arched an eyebrow.
Princess Janize swept into the room, long crimson dress, richly embroidered with solid gold thread sweeping behind her. Her red hair was done up in complex braids with gems set into them. Her crown sat upon her head.
“Darius dear, do you mind if I borrow that girl of yours tonight? The blonde with the wide hips?” Janize asked, smiling.
There was something different about her smile. Janize’s was usually quite cold, matching her pale grey eyes. Not quite sure what was going on, Darius shrugged.
“Riga or Gina, something like that right? Go ahead. Just don’t be too rough with them. We aren’t going to have access to much help if the siege goes on,” said Darius. He honestly didn’t mind that Janize sometimes had partners, he did as well. They only had one rule, to not complicate the line of succession. “You have something to tell me?”
“The doctors examined me today and well…” she wordlessly put a hand over her stomach.
Darius’s eyes widened and for the first time in a long time, he allowed a smile to spread across his face.
“That’s fantastic news. It’ll mean that Erisdale will have an heir after the siege is over,” said Darius.
Janize’s smile faded for a moment, before she suddenly glared at the serving girl.
“Leave us,” she hissed. The serving girl dipped her head and scooted away, closing the door behind her.
“How have we come under siege? I’ve left all the military affairs to you, and you’ve insisted time and again you can win this war. Yet it’s been a year and we’ve been forced back to this point.”
Darius glared at Janize. “And every time, I had a plan, but you and I know that the strategic situation turned against us the moment the Stormcaller and her Alavari prince re-established Athelda-Aoun. That damned city is acting as a bulwark against Alavari incursions and has allowed Titania’s armies to attack into Alavaria, leaving the traitors to focus on us.”
Janize closed her eyes and sighed. “Can we win this battle?”
The Earl stood up and crossed his study to touch Janize’s cheek. “We have a good chance. I’m not sure why but the land force they’ve assembled is only about eighteen thousand soldiers. Three thousand are from the Lightning Battalion and are commanded by Elizabeth the Otherworlder, Martin of Conthwaite and his ginger whore.”
Janize let the earl guide her to sit in a chair by his dek. “No ships?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.
“I’m betting they’re going to have the support of some ships from Erlenberg. How many I can’t be sure, but our seaside defenses are strong,” said Darius.
“So that’s why they’re focusing on the landward side.” Janize crossed her arms. “Don’t we have about thirty-thousand or so soldiers in the city?”
“You shouldn’t listen to the other nobles. The numbers don’t tell the full story. Nine thousand of the garrison are militia, five thousand are new recruits, another three thousand are harbour defense troops, the seven thousand or so “guard regiments” the nobles have brought to the city are highly varied in training. Some are elite knights, but an equal number are barely-armed levies from their lands. The actual number of soldiers we can trust are the eight thousand soldiers under my and my daughter Vulpina’s command. We won’t be able to sally out to meet the rebel forces on the field, especially since they have a lot of guns.”
Janize drummed her fingers on the desk, frowning. “So how are we going to defend the city then? If they lock down the sea, and have us pinned from the landward side, then all Elizabeth has to do is pick away at our defenses.”
“I’m going to harass and annoy them, using the remaining Otherworlders we have left. In fact, I ordered a raid that should have just finished. You’ll know who the commander is.”
“Ah, it’s the lass isn’t it?”
“Yes. We’ll see if she’s successful,” said Darius. “At the very least, we can be sure she escapes alive.”
There was a knock on the door and a growl, “It’s me, milord.”
“Leila! Come in please,” said Janize, smiling serenely.
A dust-covered woman trudged in, throwing off her helmet as she did so. Magic hummed as Leila stripped off her heavy plate armour and sprawled herself on the couch in the study.
“Lady Atlatl is dead. I tore her arm off and slit her throat for good measure. We lost about a hundred of our riders, but they lost more and we got away before Elizabeth and her allies arrived to counterattack.” Grabbing the pitcher of water, Leila took a deep gulp. “Thanks.”
“Altogether, a successful raid,” said Darius. He grimaced. “Hmph, I did promise you a reward if you took out Atlatl, what do you want, Leila?”
Leila pinched the bridge of her long-broken and not quite correctly set nose. “Hm, I was thinking you could give me another servant girl.”
“Oh? Is the last one unable to perform her duties any more?” Janize asked.
“In a manner of speaking. I dismissed her. Don’t worry, she got a good severance,” said Leila.
She smiled as she did so, something that Janize mirrored with nasty symmetry.
“Fine, but we’re getting you someone from the slums,” said Darius. He went back to writing. “Leila you’re dismissed. I’ll have new orders for you.”
“Yes sir,” Leila drawled, rising to her feet. She gave the Earl a mock salute and waltzed to the door. Turning around, she winked at the princess.
“See you tonight, Janize?” Leila asked.
The princess rolled her eyes. “Not in those clothes, Leila. Clean up and I may just join you in the bath,” said Janize.
Leila blinked and after a short nod, slammed the door behind her.
“Why do you put up with that uncouth alien, Janize?” Darius asked, arching an eyebrow at the princess.
“She’s amusing, dear husband. Of limited usefulness and intelligence, but our goals align.” Janize sighed. “To think the poor dear believes we’ll leave her alive after we defeat the Demon King.”
“Indeed, but then again that’s what Leila is, a blunt instrument, nothing more, nothing less,” said Darius. “When she’s outlived her use, we’ll dispose of her.”
Janize chuckled and swept toward’s the room’s entrance. “Well then, I better have my fun with her while she’s still alive. See you later, my dear husband.”