"Grant me entry to speak with Madame Selene." Morgan spoke bluntly to the guard posted outside of the Royal Palace. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five, wearing light armor that failed to conceal a boyish face. She could sense the spark of awakening within him, but she was positive that she wouldn't have to kill him in the worst-case scenario. He was clearly weak enough to dispatch without bloodshed.
"W-what?" The boy cleared his throat, pressing the butt of his spear into the stonework below as if to reaffirm his position. "Look, Miss, I'll need to see proof of-"
Morgan turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. Heavy, and all too willing to convey their presence. "Piss off, lady - Madame Selene isn't expecting any visitors." Somebody with a gruff voice said, "I sincerely recommend that you turn around and press the issue no further."
She stood face to face with a grizzled-looking soldier, one eye shut closed - a scar running vertically through it. His hair was white and gray with a few remnants of black, and he wore regal armor adorned with badges and sigils that indicated his position within the Crown Hunters - the militarized awakened. Lapdogs. This one felt stronger than the boy, probably level forty or fifty, Morgan presumed.
Her teeth glinted against the moonlight as a grin came to her. Faster than the two guards could move, Morgan's mana snapped out from her hands. Thick bindings tied themselves around the boy, immobilizing him. She figured he would be stuck that way for a few hours at least, more than enough time to make her way deeper.
The hunter drew his blade in a flash, just a moment after Morgan acted. Her hand flew for it, energy stemming out just barely ahead in order to touch the metal before her flesh could. After the mana made contact, she gripped the metal firmly in her hand, crushing it to dust. Her other hand grabbed onto the man's face, holding it tightly.
Across the many years of her life, Morgan had come to learn that when faced with a situation such as this, men often folded like a broken table or fought back with everything they had like a cornered animal. Out of an excess of caution, she decided to curb the potential for the latter occurring.
"I don't need to explain what will happen if you push your luck, do I?" She glared down at the man as she spoke low, using her words like a dagger while her palm dug down harder against his face. Energy welled up just above the surface of her skin, just waiting in quiet anticipation to be used.
He shook his head, "Hells, lady, I'm not in the dying mood."
"Right." She said, taking a deep breath, "Let's start simple, then: Where is Selene?"
"Look here, just because you-" He started, but was quickly interrupted by a searing heat from Morgan's hand - just barely enough to cause the man pain.
"Where. Is. Selene?" She spoke slowly, enunciating each word of her question.
"The garden- gods damn it all! She's in the garden- now just-" His quick shift back into pleading for his safety was interrupted, a small groan escaping him as the thinnest pinprick of energy shot through his arm. "W-what in the hells have you-"
"I've cast a spell on you, loyal knight of Hyperion. Should you move more than a meter from this spot, you'll find that precious arm of yours to be little more than a useless lump of flesh." A terrible lie, of course, but one that she felt had been sold through her dour tone and small use of mana. She took her hand off of the man, who promptly fell back onto his hands and stared up at her as if she were a monster.
Morgan turned right around, the gates to the Palace falling flat from a well-placed use of [Transmutation]. If Selene were in the garden, she would likely have to spill more than just Virtue's blood on this night.
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Josephine Cirix, the Commander of the Crown Hunters, stood before Morgan - only a few meters away. She clutched at her burning blade, gripping the hilt so tightly that crimson blood trickled freely down her wrist and dripped onto the cobblestone path of the palace grounds. Her face was contorted by anger and anguish in equal measure, a silent scream flowing from her open mouth until it reached a crescendo as a roar, "Morgan! What in the hells do you think you're doing?!"
A half-dozen different hunters of varying level were strewn about the area around them. All of them were dead, their bodies broken in different ways through Morgan's magical arsenal. It was a failure on her part, of course, seeing as she hardly intended to kill a single one of them.
But they were simply too powerful to restrain.
"I've come to see Selene. Stand aside at once." She said simply, her gaze boring through the woman.
"You expect me to stand aside after the carnage you've brought here?" Josephine's hands were shaking, her aura spiraling out of control along with her emotions. "There isn't a chance in this world that I would let you go unpunished, Witch!" Her grip tightened on her sword, and she began to move. Her speed was reminiscent of a young Isa, Morgan thought.
"You'll go no further!"
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Morgan was disappointed with her pace, but all in all the night hadn't treated her entirely poorly. Three-quarters of her mana remained, and though she felt exhausted she was sure that she would be able to push through what was to come.
She was reminded of how she spent her teenage years, hunting down some of the worst of the Pioneers and putting an end to them. She quickly decided it was an entirely too grim thought, though, and pushed it to the side.
It wasn't much longer before she made it to the garden. A large, open space full of artistically curated flowers and trees and plants of all manner of types. Most of them had alchemical applications, and Selene specifically had them planted there for Morgan to experiment with. It was a gorgeous place, and she had spent many a happy night there with Selene.
Her gaze traveled forward, scanning past the plants until it eventually settled on a visage she would never forget - even in death. Selene sat underneath a willow tree, one that the two of them had planted when they first took their places in the Palace. The cuttings that it grew from were a gift from Cairbre.
"Never thought it'd come to this." Morgan could hear Selene's voice, quiet as it was, carrying through the garden to her. It sounded dry, even pained.
"It doesn't have to, Selene." She spoke as she walked, continuing her way towards the woman. "I just wanted to show you the foolishness of this plan of ours, there's-"
"It's hardly our plan anymore, Morgan." Selene rose with a shaky breath, a certain vacant quality to her gaze. "You want nothing to do with it, as I recall."
"I never should have attempted such a thing, and I never should have pulled you into the fray, Selene. I know just how much you gave up, and-"
"Don't you dare." Selene said with a voice barely above a whisper, "I won't hear it. Not after all this time, after everything that's happened." Her eyes caught Morgan's, and for a moment she was almost sure that they looked wet, "I loved you, Morgan! With all of my heart, more than I had loved another in my entire life. And I was more than happy to dedicate myself, my everything to what you wanted for the world."
She steadied herself against the willow tree, "I wanted to be useful to you, and to the ideas that I thought were akin to gospel. But now... Gods, Morgan."
Faint twinkles fell from the sky above her, shards of sunlight dancing in the night air, "You're stained in the blood of the people I'm supposed to protect! There won't be - can't be any discussion between us. Leave now, or I'll..."
The woman took a deep breath, centering herself as her next words were forced out of her, "Or I'll put you down."