Morwen lay on her bed watching the ceiling warp and twist together amidst her wine and herb filled haze. She saw no point in bothering anymore. Allosius had won. Stripped of her command and her team, she no longer possessed the tools to fight the Sauridius. All she could do now was make sure she was drunk enough so that when Ominek and his horde came for Eryn, she wasn’t conscious during the end.

Her father had stayed notably out of her way during this time. Opting to stay busy with his work as the ArchPriest. Leaving Morwen with Lucinda. Lucinda wasn’t bad, and in a lot of ways, was much warmer to her than her mother had been. Morwen just didn’t like how carefree the former gladiator was. Morwen figured being a reigning champion of the games engendered itself to a little shameless debauchery in retirement.

She clumsily grabbed for the nearest bottle and knocked it over. Grunting, she leaned over to examine it. Empty. Just like her life now. How typical. She waved her hand and cast a spell to refill the bottle. Golden white fluid rose from the base of the bottle and she sighed with a half smile. Several times decorated battle commander reduced to using magic to get drunk.

“Not quite how I imagined I’d fall from grace.”

“You imagined you’d fall from grace?” Lucinda said.

Morwen shifted her gaze from the bottle and found Lucinda leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Lucinda had a bottle of her own that was about half full. The former gladiator wore her hair pulled back into a simple ponytail, and she wore the trademark tank top and black slacks. Much to the chagrin of the upper class nobles on Eryn, Lucinda still dressed like a commoner. One that could cut them down before they blinked at her wrong.

Morwen shook her head after some laborious thought. The foggy haze the wine created made it a more intensive effort than it might have been normal. “Not originally, but I knew. After I killed Rayshe’s son, I knew I’d pay for it.”

“Was it worth it?”

Morwen frowned. “I wish I could say yes. I want to. But losing everything?”

Lucinda smiled warmly. “Everything might be a little much. You still have your life. Can’t do anything if yer dead.”

Morwen blinked. She supposed that much was true. She’d gotten so wrapped up in the bureaucracies of the Federation she’d forgotten that ultimately she’d taken a commission to get out and fight. Not to wring her wrists about troops, supplies and ships. She lifted her bottle in salute before sipping from it.

“Fair enough. What else haven’t I lost?”

“Is this a game now?” Lucinda asked with a grin.

Morwen puzzled over the question. Normally she’d have responded no, but the subdued giggle in the back of her throat shook loose and she nodded. “Sure. It is now.”

Lucinda’s eyes lit up. She always loved games. Especially drinking games. She counted off on fingers. “Well, you still have your family, your old man and me. You still have your friends you came back with.”

“The Lt. and his squad?”

Lucinda nodded, brows furrowed. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been so stuffy you’ve kept them at arm’s length again, haven’t you?”

Morwen shifted uncomfortably. She preferred when Lucinda wasn’t picking at scabs. Did she just enjoy making her feel put on the spot? “They were my crew. I didn’t have the luxury of friends.”

“Luxury? Are you sure you didn’t mean to say you didn’t want to be vulnerable enough to allow yourself to have friends?”

Morwen pushed herself up so she could drink her wine without choking. Taking a lazy long pull. She figured she’d lost a few questions by now no matter who’s count you went by. “We had a battle to win. I wasn’t even sure we’d be coming back home afterwards.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me. Wanna know what I think?”

“I really don’t.” Morwen started.

“I think you’re wallowing in this pity party because some petty prick has made it harder for you to do what you love.”

“What I love?” Morwen asked.

Lucinda pushed off the door frame and sat down next to Morwen. The gladiator tapped her bottle against Morwen’s. Morwen eyed her own bottle as Lucinda drank from hers. “They demoted you. They took your ship and crew from you. It’s no secret Allosius hit you where you’re most vulnerable. You just need a reason to fight again. Something to fight for. A mission or something. Find that, and you’ll find what you need to get back on track.”

Morwen scoffed. “Fat chance of that. Allosius is going to see to it I get posted on the ashes of Hoshun most likely. When Ominek comes for Eryn, I won’t be in any position to help. All because I killed his petulant blood thirsty son.”

“Did this bottle worm earn his death?”

Morwen frowned, the murder replaying in her mind endlessly since it happened. Bile crept up the back of her throat, but she took another pull from her wine to push it down, along with her guilt. She’d offered him several chances to back down. But his pride kept forcing the issue, and her hand. Eventually leaving her no choice but to act. Lucinda gently squeezed her opposite arm, and only then did Morwen noticed that Lucinda had draped it across her back.

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“I didn’t want to. I gave him several opportunities to let the matter go. He insisted on clinging to his wounded pride, and the regulations that let him vent his rage. He was within his right to demand the deaths of my squad, technically. But in spirit, he was wrong.”

Lucinda nodded sagely. “Those are always the hardest. A clean kill leaves an easy conscious. It’s the dirty ones that stay with you. They imprint on you. Little puzzle pieces of guilt you can’t quite shake loose.”

Morwen blinked. She didn’t expect something that wise from Lucinda. In that rare moment, she sounded less like the full-time party animal, and more like a war-weary general might. It took her by surprise sometimes just how diametrically opposite Lucinda’s life was in a way.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of this feeling.”

“Good. It means you’re walking the right path. When you stop caring about which lives you end, you’ve become the enemy, and someone else with a more virtuous heart than yours will have to put you down.”

Morwen leaned into Lucinda for a moment. It was a moment of weakness she let herself indulge in. She’d had a few of those of late. Maybe she was getting soft? Not soft enough to be this weak near her father, though. She was far too prideful to do this with him. That tasted bitter, but she knew it was the truth.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

Morwen shot Lucinda an annoyed look. “I told you. I’m no kid.” Lucinda’s musical chuckle grated on Morwen’s nerves. More than the patronizing head pat the former arena champion gave her. That reminded her she’d let her hair go and needed to rectify that. Scooping it back to pull back into a ponytail. Lucinda halted her gently.

“Don’t. It suits you down.”

Morwen fussed at the hem of her shirt. She preferred it back and tight. With it laying loose, she felt messy. She needed to get out and get some fresh air. Eventually, she pushed herself upright.

“I want some fresh air.”

Morwen wobbled as she circled around the pile of bottles for the door, leaving Lucinda to watch her leave from her bed. Morwen paused as the sounds and sights of outside the grand temple crashed into her senses. The air smelled of honey. Flocks of colored birds sang as they swerved through the trees. The sun sprinkled down through the leaves of the trees. Coffee. She needed coffee. She spent a point of her magic to heal the toxin effect of the wine. Instant sobriety crashed into her fuzzy mind like a strong wind blowing away the clouds.

Morwen drew in a deep breath and made her way down the white marble path towards the markets. A sweet, warm breeze danced through the green canopy as she walked. It helped to take the sting out of the loss of everything but her physical life. She needed a distraction that wasn’t over medicating. Akamori’s words hung in the back of her mind, more clearly now that she’d stopped drinking.

Morwen disliked how right he was. She also disliked feeling like the only one who gave a damn about how the war turned out. Her people’s apathy toward the conflict made her sick. All around her, Aeryn Nobility casually ignored the suffering of the outer colonies in the sector. Someone else’s problems.

She refused to accept that’s how their own goddess would have behaved. Ignorant and indifferent to the pain and agony incurred by the other innocents of the realm. Morwen remembered the deep shame she felt watching the humans broadcast tragedy after tragedy when the Sauridius first began their aggressive push beyond their home in the Gaian Nebula. There was almost an entire sector between the Nebula and Eryn, but Morwen knew it was only a matter of time before the wryms descended on their world.

She passed through the markets smiling as various vendors made offers to her. Emerging into the residential quarters stretched and took a seat on the white stone steps fed down into the various quarters. The richest nobles lived closest to the markets, with the further residential quarter housing the poorest of Eryn’s society; namely the dwarves and halflings.

Eventually, someone sat down next to her. A man with long white hair swept back into a ponytail. Morwen tensed initially, thinking it might have been Allosius come to gloat about cannibalizing her life. Morwen risked a polite glance and studied the man intensely. He wore a fashionable suit that spoke both to his affluence and artistic sense. What caught her most was the fierce intensity in his eyes.

“Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It was just such a nice view. I thought I’d come share it with you.” He said.

Morwen inclined her head slowly, accepting his presence after an initial pause. “I come here often to think. When life makes little sense, which seems to occur more often than not lately.”

“Oh?” the man said inquisitively.

She wasn’t normally one to share and had initially cut herself short. But he was offering her his attention and ear. She inwardly sighed and continued. She gave a small shrug, her gaze drifting from the residential quarters down to the stone stairs.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m being tugged along to someone else’s tune. Namely my father.” Her thoughts instantly went to her father and his damned prophecies.

“I know how that feels.” The man next to her said, suddenly looking wistful. There was an agonized look behind his eyes before he blinked, and the mask of politeness was back up.

“Now that tugging has resulted in everything I’ve devoted my life to being reduced to ash. I have nothing left.”

The man turned to regard her curiously, as if only just taking her in for the first time. He studied her for a long moment, and she shifted, resisting the urge to redirect the conversation.

“There’s always something to lose. It just depends on how badly you want to keep it.”

It felt a lot like what Lucinda had said. Ok, maybe twice in one day was finally the kick in the rear she needed to finish her pouting. She sighed and threw her hands up with a reluctant sigh, and chuckled.

“Ok. I give up. No more pouting. Back on the horse I go.”

He smiled and nodded. “That’s the spirit. Best get to it then. I’ll see you around?”

Morwen rose, patting the dust off her slacks. “I expect I’ll probably be very busy. Saving the sector is exhaustingly tedious and time-consuming, but someone has to do it.”

The man smiled, a rather handsome smile, if she let herself covertly admit. He rose and offered a hand. “Yes, I suppose it must be. Well then. Good luck with saving the sector.”

She took it and pumped his hand a few times politely before turning to leave. She gave him a departing wave and left the quarters to go back to the markets. As she left, she could swear she heard his parting words whisper along the breeze.

“Face your destiny bravely.”

When she turned to see him, he was gone. Leaving her with only confusion and more unanswered questions. Who was he? And what did he want?

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