Chapter 57 - Freedom?
The world zoomed by, filtered by a dark, oppressive haze. Morrigan imagined a box around herself as she adjusted to this strange new way of running, where she barely moved her legs. When light began to invade her box, she twisted away from it—or at least, tried to.
The dark aura slipped away as a ray of light blinded her. The trees suddenly seemed far more solid. Then, her toe connected with the ground, and she was thrown out of her box. The world materialized in front of her as she tried to get her legs under herself, attempting to run on the ground which was moving far faster than her legs could keep up.
Finally, it all came to a halt when she was a blink away from colliding with a tree. She threw herself to the left to avoid a direct impact, giving up on remaining standing and hitting the ground hard. The forest floor provided a slight cushion, but the impact still jarred her bones.
“Ah! Much better!” Death cheered, walking over to her. He rested his scythe over his shoulder as he stood over her. Morrigan glared up at him, frustration burning in her eyes as she picked leaves out of her tangled hair.
“Better?” Morrigan asked dryly.
“Yes! You seemed far more in control of your shadow steps this time! That is, right up until the part where you failed.”
Morrigan brushed herself off as she got off the ground. “Why do we have to start with shadow stepping? It can’t be that important if I never see you using it.”
“That’s only because I prefer driving my classic!” he said, putting up one skeletal finger.
“Well, why don’t you shadow-step through your list tomorrow and let me take the car?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, placing his scythe back on the ground. “Not after what you did to the truck.”
“It had an oil leak. That’s not on me!”
“You took it on a rather long road trip with not a single thought of inspecting its condition. Oh, and not to mention, you did so without my permission.”
“So you’re holding that over me after all, huh?”
“All that aside, I simply cannot trust a new driver with the Phantom. It is far too rare and valuable, and I plan on taking it to a car show next month.”
Morrigan narrowed her eyes. “Seriously?”
Death chuckled. “Yes, it is my most prized possession. You know how much I cherish it!”
Morrigan sighed. “Trust me… I know.” She looked deeper into the forest. Thin rays of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy, creating spotted patterns on the forest floor. Death insisted this was the best place to learn the feel of shadow stepping. Only direct sunlight, a similarly bright light, or a complete failure of concentration on a reaper’s mana flow would force them out of the semi-material state. That’s why the forest near his cabin was a perfect, safe environment with plenty of obstacles to practice with.
There would be enough tree coverage toward town that once she became skilled, she could place herself on the city’s outskirts even at midday. On a particularly cloudy day or at night, the entire world would be open to her.
But… she’d prefer just driving if that were an option.
Death laughed, the sound eerie yet strangely comforting. “Come now, Morrigan. Let’s give it another go. This time, try to make it back to the tree line.” He pointed through the forest; his cabin could barely be seen through the thick woodland. “Plan your route before stepping into the shadows. Leave as few surprises for yourself as possible.”
She took a deep breath, visualizing the shadows enveloping her, their cool touch wrapping around her like a protective cloak. When she felt ready, she took a step, then another, and before she knew it, she was moving with the darkness. The world around her blurred again. She could sense the trees passing by, their forms mere outlines in the dark haze. Light pierced through—coming at her so fast it was panic-inducing—but she focused on twisting out of the way, avoiding the blinding rays as they approached. Then, there was one final wall of light that was her goal and she dove right into it.
She emerged from the shadows, stumbling but managing to stay on her feet as she slowed herself from a full run. She finally stopped her momentum with a wave of her arms to keep balance, then her head shot up, and she looked around. She was in the clearing, just a few yards from the gravel driveway that led to Death’s cabin. She turned back to the trees and put a thumb up, a triumphant smile on her face. “Did you see that!?”
“Very good, Morrigan!” Death called from within the trees. She tilted to see around a tree and saw him walking her way. Then, his form dissolved and he seemed to disappear. However, Morrigan managed to catch blurs of movement within the shadows, and she focused, trying to track his progress, but eventually lost sight of him. The next thing she knew, he stepped out of the shadow of a tree and calmly walked right in front of her.
“Show off,” she smirked.
“Years of experience, Morrigan. Remember to slow down before ending the spell; otherwise, it will be like jumping out of a moving car.”
“I haven’t really figured out speed control yet. I just do my thing and pray I don’t end up plowing face-first into a tree.”
“Just move your legs slower. It’s as simple as that.” He pointed back into the trees. “Now, try again. This time I want you to step free from the shadows willfully. Shadow stepping only works while you are in motion, so all you have to do is stop.”
“Easier said than done. I don’t really feel like I have control over my legs.”
“But you do. It’s just a different experience as you’re in a semi-material form. You seem to be doing well with quick sideward movements, so just apply that to your legs.”
With a steady exhale, Morrigan gazed through the trees as she imagined her path and then stepped into the shadows once more. The world blurred around her, and she moved through the darkness. She twisted and turned, dodging beams of light as they approached. Her legs were moving at an odd, slow rhythm that did not match the speed of the vague silhouettes flying at her. She felt more in control, more precise with each step. Now, she just had to try slowing down.
It was a hard sensation to describe, like wading through water. More than that, there was a delay between her legs and what she intended for them to do.
She looked down and realized she could not see her own body. It was a jarring sensation that she did not prepare herself for. Her concentration failed completely as her heart jump to her throat as if she were falling.
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Her foot struck something solid, the world around her suddenly coming into sharp focus as she was expelled from the shadows. She tried to regain her footing, but her momentum was too great. She hit a tree, pivoting herself around the side of it, spinning, and finally falling on her back with the air rushing from her lungs with a solid ”OOOF!”
She hit the ground hard, a sharp pain shooting through her body. As she lay there, gasping for breath, she felt a strange, tingling sensation spreading from her spine. The demon flesh began to react, rippling and shifting under her skin.
“No… no, not now,” Morrigan muttered, clenching her teeth against the pain.
She tried to push herself up, but her back felt like it was on fire. She stumbled, falling down to her hands and knees. The demon flesh rippled more violently, and suddenly, sharp, black tendrils tore through the back of her shirt, lashing out as if trying to grasp the surrounding air.
“Stay calm, Morrigan,” Death said, his voice steady as he approached. He placed a skeletal hand on her shoulder. “Focus on your breathing. You can control it.” One of the tendrils lashed at his face, but his hand came up quickly enough to grab it. It wriggled like an angry snake in his skeletal grasp.
“Aaaah! It hurts!” Morrigan yelled, her fist clenching handfuls of leaves.
“You have the power to control this. Focus on breathing, in and out, and calm your mind.”
“Easier said than done,” she hissed through her teeth.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to focus. The tendrils continued to writhe, and the pain intensified. She held her breath for a moment before slowly exhaling, trying to center herself. The tendrils began to slow their frantic movements, but the pain remained intense.
“You’re doing well,” Death encouraged. “Keep focusing. Visualize the demon flesh merging with your own. It’s a part of you. You are in control.”
Morrigan pictured the dark tendrils receding, melding back into her body. She took another deep breath, holding it, then exhaling slowly. The tendrils wavered and then began to retract, slipping back under her skin.
“That’s it,” Death said, letting the tendril he held slip out of his grasp as it returned to her.
The pain started to subside, and the tendrils disappeared, leaving only the torn remnants of her shirt. She opened her eyes, looking up at Death, her breaths coming out heavily.
“See? You can control it, and that’s what’s important.”
Morrigan forced herself up to her feet. She wasn’t sure if control was the right word. She just hoped that when she finished sewing the seal in her hoodie, she wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.
“I’m done for today,” she said, walking past him and back toward the cabin. The seal was nearly finished, and she decided she’d spend the rest of the day completing the project.
Once in her room, she exchanged her tattered shirt for a new one, then grabbed her hoodie off the back of a chair. She collected her thread, needle, and Hilda’s diagram from the desktop, then sat cross-legged on her bed as she worked. She was sure she could finish tonight as long as nothing distracted her.
“You ought to be careful in playing with witches’ magic,” a deep, sophisticated voice suddenly spoke. Morrigan looked to the floor to see Noir there.
“Hello, Noir.”
He jumped onto the bed and sat on his haunches, tail flicking. “We used Hilda to aid in healing you because her healing and defensive powers are impressive for a human mage… no doubt thanks to who her mother was… but those girls are still witches.”
“I thought only one was a witch.”
“The younger, I suspect, will be a quick learner. She’s of the same bloodline, so her potential is great.”
Morrigan smirked. “Make sure you tell her that next time she comes over. She’ll love you forever.”
His tail swished. “I’m merely offering words of caution. As a reaper, you are on the side of order. They are not.”
“They’re my friends.”
“Maybe so, but you must understand it is in their nature to embrace chaos. Therefore, you are inherently at odds.”
“What about you? I thought you were quite literally a being of chaos. Something about if your kind were to rule, chaos would reign. Do I have that right?”
“That’s different. As I am now, I was created for the sole purpose of protecting order. My contracts forbid me from acting counter to that purpose.”
Morrigan thought about that, threading her needle carefully as she continued to work on the seal. “So I’m curious… how does that make you feel?”
He turned his head. “What do you mean?”
“How do I say this without completely sticking my foot in my mouth…” she muttered. “Okay, so basically. Your kind were going to be destroyed, but you were allowed to live because you were given a purpose.”
“Correct.”
“So, therefore, if you were to deny that purpose and choose to live life your own way… what would happen?”
“If I were to violate my contracts, I’d be destroyed.”
“But couldn’t you just slip into another dimension and hide?”
“In such a case, it would not last long. Other Voidlings would be sent after me… I would be quickly found and outnumbered.”
“And that doesn’t make you mad?”
“Why would it?”
“I don’t know… because you’re not free?”
“And what exactly is freedom, Morrigan?”
“Uh…” she stopped threading her needle as she looked upward and thought about it. “I guess… to live your life the way you want, without anyone else’s control.”
Noir’s tail swished thoughtfully. “Interesting. And do you believe that absolute freedom is truly possible?”
Morrigan paused, the needle in her hand momentarily forgotten. “I... I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about it that deeply. Sure, there are always rules and consequences. But having some control over your own life seems important.”
Noir’s eyes glowed faintly in the dim light of the room. “Absolute freedom is an illusion. Even those who believe they are free are bound by something—laws, obligations, relationships.”
“No, but that’s different. I mean, you were created with a specific purpose, and you don’t get a say in it. That’s… that’s not freedom.”
Noir tilted his head, his gaze unblinking. “You are correct, Morrigan. I was created with a purpose, and my existence is bound by my contracts. But does that mean my existence is inherently oppressive?”
“Well… kinda?” Morrigan hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I mean, if you’re okay with it, then it’s fine, right? But what if you weren’t? What if you wanted something different?”
“Then I’d take different actions, and those actions would have consequences.”
“But your consequences are set in stone! Like—” Morrigan growled, feeling frustrated. It was such a simple concept that she felt it didn’t need to be explained, but he just wasn’t getting it. “I mean, like… you’re basically a slave!”
Noir’s whiskers twitched in amusement.
“What? Is something funny about that?” Morrigan huffed at him.
“A question occurs to me,” Noir said, his voice taking on an almost playful tone. “One I believe I already know the answer to, but humor me. I’d like you to take some time to consider it.”
“Okay…”
“If you would, imagine a world where Voidlings are not bound by our contracts with reapers and fate. Instead of aiding to maintain the balance of life and death, we existed freely and without purpose. We can move between planes of existence unlike any other being, so therefore, the line between the planes that must be separated would begin to blur. Demons like the two you’ve encountered thus far would have an easier time invading this world and become more and more common. Very soon, this world would become completely uninhabitable for humans. Would you say this version of reality would be preferable to what exists now?”
“That’s not a fair question!” Morrigan yelled.
“I’d say it is very fair. So think on it, and then you may also come to understand why I tell you to be careful in trusting witches.”
Morrigan opened her mouth to argue more, but then she felt her back bubbling. “Crap!” she winced, closing her eyes and trying to stifle it.
Come on! Not again! I already lost one shirt today!
She let herself breathe easily until the pain stopped. She managed to keep it under control, and when she opened her eyes, Noir was gone. She glared at the empty space he had been sitting, then sighed and picked her needle back up. She figured once she had this seal finished, there’d be at least one chaotic entity she knew how to deal with.
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