Juro screamed as he collapsed on the ground, Morrigan flying off of his back and violently slamming into a tree. Juro clutched his arm as he felt the crimson blood flow between his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping for air while writhing on the ground. He attempted to get onto his feet, but the pain was unbearable — his breath hissing through his teeth, he reached out for Morrigan.

Bruno: What’s going on? Is everyone okay? Hello?

“Juro…” Morrigan croaked, gingerly getting up onto her feet and awkwardly walking toward him as if she were a newborn fawn just learning to walk. “Juro.” The word broke from her lips, and she could taste her salty tears spill over the side of her lips and into her mouth.

He was still clutching onto his arm, placing as much pressure as he could muster, while his eyes were thin lines on his ghostly face as sweat beaded on his skin. His chest heaved with every breath, each one shallow and desperate.

Bruno: Please answer. Please.

Morrigan reached a hand out to Juro’s arm, but he turned away, his feet shuffling on the ground, trying to get away. Morrigan’s breath hitched and got stuck in her chest, barely managing a feeble, “I’m sorry.” She could tell a part of Juro was petrified of her, but what could she say? She was scared of herself, too.

She took another step toward him, placing her hand on him and watching his face relax, his breathing slow. He tried to get back on his feet but quickly collapsed again, his arm hanging limp by his side. Color slowly returned to his face while Morrigan wrapped her arms around Juro and lifted him up, carrying him in front of her with her arms hooked under his legs and back.

Morrigan: Once you make it to the top, take a sharp right toward the cliff edge. Jump down. We’ll meet you there.

Bruno: Are you insane?!

Morrigan: Trust me.

Morrigan started running, pumping adrenaline into her body and growing her muscles. She whipped her head around and spotted the General quickly advancing towards her, the pink-haired woman closely behind with a look of bored, perhaps mild interest, on her face. Morrigan turned back around and continued running.

Can’t you do something? Please, Mom! Morrigan pleaded, hearing the rapid footsteps of soldiers close in around her flank.

[C an ‘t.]

Morrigan exhaled in anger as she desperately looked around, trying to find a way to escape. Suddenly, as she looked at her surroundings, she realized that they almost seemed to move and sway in impossible ways. She could see soldiers slipping past the trees beside her but their movements seemed lagged and blurry before they quickly sped past her, seeming to pay no mind.

“Something surrounded us,” Juro muttered, breaking the silence that Morrigan created for herself. When Juro looked up, he met her widened, tense eyes before they softened, tears crashing down like waves from her blue eyes.

“Thank you,” she cried, tightened her grip around him and kept running, “and… I’m sorry.” Morrigan threw Juro as hard as she could onto the now open path, and he yelped in shock and pain as he rolled onto the gravel ground.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Morr!” He screamed, getting up to run back toward her, but before he could, a wall of fire separated the two of them.

Morrigan whipped around, bringing up her hands as the General’s depraved face approached her. The pink-haired woman and the rest of his soldiers seemed to have paused at the top of the hill, confusion and a bizarre look on their faces. General Kristiansen didn’t need to use his powers at all for Elizabeth, but Morrigan wasn’t going to be that easy.

“You egotistical asshole!” she cried, bringing her hands up as condensed fireballs roared toward him, threatening to explode. He quickly raised the earth below him and ran up the platform, his horse leaping over it and now airborne, about to crash into her.

Morrigan dug her hands into the ground, feeling the dirt and rocks embed themselves beneath her nails, as plant roots and vines sprung out of the ground in sharp tendrils, racing straight toward the horse and General.

Before they could land, a black figure slammed into the side of the horse as it screamed, the General’s amazed face suddenly twisting into shock as he was thrown onto the ground. The hooded figure seemed to dazzle around the horse and General Kristiansen as it wrapped around them at ungodly speeds, clanging metal screeching in the air, before it pulled back.

General Kristiansen yelled out as he erupted a pillar from the ground that slammed the figure high up in the air, but it quickly jumped down to the ground and cut through the General’s face. Shock finally wearing off, General Kristiansen grabbed the hooded figure as it still clutched the glistening sword to its side. The figure's coat was suddenly ripped off as Juro emerged into the scene, their eyes meeting.

Thick eyebrows drawn on like single brushstrokes of the most famed artist, the kiss of a violent scar, still scabbed, flowered across one side of his sharp face, and eyes carved out of jewels that held all the misfortune in the world.

“You…?” Juro muttered as he watched the man drive his sword toward the General before being tossed back once again.

“Juro!” Morrigan shouted as she ran toward him. The ground worked like springs beneath her feet as she ran with unparalleled speed forward. “Let’s get out of here, now!”

The pink-haired woman, who seemed locked behind the mysterious barrier, now stuck her clear hand through it, unphased. Her face grew in admiration as it slowly emerged from the barrier, no longer obscured.

Morrigan grabbed Juro’s blood-stained hand as they ran down the path, quickly heading up the hill. Finally approaching the cliff's edge, Juro pleaded with Morrigan for a moment before she jumped off the edge with Juro in tow. Holding his breath, he gasped when he met solid ground and turned his head around to see a small house built into the cliff.

The lights were already turned on, and they could see the silhouette of Bruno sitting on a couch inside. Juro remained eerily silent, mind racing. Him? Of all people? What reason would he ever have to help Morrigan? Unless she promised him something. Would could that even be? How would they have even met?

When Morrigan opened the door, she hesitantly walked in. The house was littered with miscellaneous machinery and scrap metal. It barely resembled anything someone could call a “home.” There was nothing personal in it other than the mess that built up, but the kitchen remained oddly pristine and organized.

Elizabeth was slumped up on a wall, occasionally moving parts of her body, rolling her shoulders, as she glared at Juro. Bruno shakily held one of the knives in his hands before his eyes fixed on Morrigan. He seemed to threaten her with just a glance, but he remained planted on the couch as Morrigan walked down the hall, fishing through a room before pulling out some cigarettes and lighting them with her finger. She threw the pack on the table, letting the thud reverberate throughout the small house.

Juro walked over to Bruno, kneeling on the ground in front of him before reaching up and embracing him. Bruno dropped the knife on the ground and sobbed on Juro’s body, his back heaving up and down with each cry. His arms were splayed out on the couch but shook with him.

“She’s gone, Juro. She’s…” Bruno stopped as another sobbed racked through his body, and he finally held onto Juro as if, at any moment, he might disappear too. “I need to go back. I need to go to her house. She told me to grab a book from her room. I need to. I…”

Juro gently hushed him, Morrigan simply watching from the recluse of the room’s dark corner. “Alright. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, okay? You need to sleep. Get your rest.”

Bruno shook his head, refusing to leave.

Morrigan finally chimed in, inhaling the smoke between her lips. “There’s a room at the end of the hallway with a bed. You should rest there for a bit, Bruno.”

He shook his head again but didn’t talk, barely able to move except for the way his body shook and trembled.

Juro turned toward Morrigan, a strange look on his face that seemed to be a mix of both awe and distrust. “So, this is his house?”

“Why are you asking me if you already know the answer?” she replied, avoiding his gaze.

“And he… helped you?” Juro’s brows were furrowed as if he were too young or naive to understand what she was talking about

“I told him Josephine would be at the fundraiser.”

Juro froze, his eyes widening. “Oh, Morr…” he trailed off, shaking his head back and forth frantically. “Morr…”

“Victor. Victor Meyer.” She slowly lifted a finger and pointed toward the front of the house. “And, at any moment, he’ll burst right through those doors.”