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Wayward: Missing (Book 5)
1 - The Night Witch

1 - The Night Witch

Morgan, the Night Witch [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/ADCreHcWr9u6phE8QLv4GPn2x6E5Y4UXm9gHcRA1qKUSbwRtVP6Q8n2vxgqoExr27rQyveuuUrXWdbIWYfNNuNJAnn5ml7hyCLGyV-H8Wbhz1M1-Ukqgz1duDa3Vj0K11DsbMy98BafacnVq5wRkew5iyD6h=w621-h931-s-no?authuser=0]

It was a night like any other night but Phoenix couldn’t sleep very well. The cold sterile room of the children’s hospital she basically lived in was barely illuminated by the moon shining through the window curtains as she lay in the dark. Aside from the normal anxiety eating at her about her incurable condition making tonight her last, the pain was becoming extreme as she clutched at her abdomen and groaned.

Phoenix tried to wipe the strands of red hair from her face; the only healthy part about her. She loved her hair, always had, and one of her earliest memories was yelling at her mother when she was about three to not cut the chaotic curls that always made her seem a bit wild. She promised to sit still and let her mom brush them as long as they wouldn’t be taken away from her.

She wished her mother was there to comfort her but Whitney Fraser had died in a car accident only two months ago. Never getting to see her even become a legal adult since that would be happening tomorrow. Phoenix didn’t care though. Turning eighteen was never really something to look forward to for her aside from marking another year of proving all the doctors, who said she wouldn’t live past five, wrong.

Her father had died before she was born, killed far away in a war she still didn’t fully understand the reasons for. Her mom chose to raise her alone but working as a nurse in this very same hospital helped make things slightly easier on them.

Another spike of pain made the grip of her offhand clench around her plush emerald turtle that matched her eyes. A gift that made her mind turn to wishing for her best friend as well. Jin had been a light for her among the dreary sadness that would often permeate the hospital where so many of their young friends died. She remembered sneaking into their room on the good days, the days she had the energy to walk, just to talk and tease and laugh with each other. Jin had died too, though. Claimed by cancer over two years ago.

When the pain started finally getting past her rather high threshold, she began fumbling in the dark for the nurse call button. She hated bothering them during the night despite knowing that was what they were there for. She hated needing to ask for help, proving that she needed others to do even the most basic of tasks. She hated being a perpetual burden to everyone around her.

The thing she hated the most however was getting a new nurse that would take a glance at her chart then proceed to misgender her. Despite the long auburn curls that framed her pale, often sallow, face, and the pink hospital gown she had requested, they would see that little letter M and proceed to call her “mister”, “sport”, or worse, “sir”.

She knew they didn’t really know better until she corrected them, and luckily most of them would correct themselves immediately as best they could, but it was still a punch to her fragile scraps of ego. A stab in her heart that she would never be seen as she wanted to be.

The worst was the rare occurrence when the newbie nurse was malicious about it. Refusing to correct themselves and going out of their way to point out her birth assignment, despite its inaccuracy. Finding any opportunity to remind her that she would never be able to transition her body because of how frail and sickly she was. This was one of those times.

She knew her latest tormentor would be on duty tonight. She knew they would sneer and poke and not be gentle about helping her… but it hurt. So she gripped the clunky plastic remote and resolved herself to press the big red button.

However, the door opened before she did and she sighed in relief, thinking perhaps one of the other nurses, the ones that knew her and cared, had come to check on her in a stroke of pure coincidence.

Phoenix froze in a slight panic, however, when a cloaked figure with a comically large witch’s hat entered her room instead and then stared in wonder as she realized the person’s clothing was shining like the night sky. Robes of twinkling starlight glimmering in the darkness.

She couldn’t see a face under the brim of the hat that looked like it was stolen from some fantasy cosplay convention as she asked quietly, her pain momentarily forgotten, “Are you an angel here to take me to heaven?”

A feminine voice laughed, “No, little one, I am far from an angel.”

Phoenix frowned, gritting her teeth at a stab in her abdomen reminding her the pain was still there and didn’t like being ignored, as she inquired, “A devil then?”

Another laugh filled the small room, “Not quite. I’m here to help you but do not think of it as divine charity.”

“Help me?” she began to wonder if perhaps the agony was affecting her brain now and causing hallucinations. She had never experienced those before but there was always a first time for everything.

“Think of it more like making a deal,” the woman said with amusement.

“A deal?” she asked, still distracted by the searing pain in her stomach, “I think you might have the wrong person,” she gasped aloud and groaned at another sharp stab before gathering enough breath to add, “I-I don’t have anything to trade.”

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“An investment then,” the mysterious stranger said more seriously, “I made this same offer to your friend a few years ago and am pleased by the results so far. Now I’m hoping you will not disappoint either.”

“My friend? Who-”

“Nevermind that,” the voice said, cutting off her question, “I have other plans for you.”

Then the stranger, who she still wasn’t convinced wasn’t some kind of trick her mind was playing as she was finally dying, lifted an arm towards her and whispered something in a language she had never heard before.

The outstretched hand glowed with a pale green light for a moment before the light was then surrounding her, suffusing her, and Phoenix knew this must be a hallucination or dream now. Then the pain stopped.

Phoenix couldn’t remember the last time she had felt like this. No pain; none at all. There was always some, just varying degrees of it, but now… nothing. She stared at the stranger for a long moment as the green glow vanished, plunging the room back into night, before finally asking bluntly, “Who are you and why are you here?”

It was eerie when she finally caught a glimpse of a wide Cheshire grin peeking out from under the hat as it rose upwards to reveal a womanly face, “I’m called Morgan now, in this world at least. I do like going by ‘The Night Witch’, however. It has a magical ring to it doesn’t it?”

“This world?” Phoenix asked, beginning to wonder if perhaps the pain stopped because she actually had died and this was some sort of weird limbo meant to ease her into the next life.

“Yes, little one,” she replied with a nod, “There are many out there in the wide cosmos, some even quite similar to this one. That’s what I’m here for and what I want with you, actually.”

“Me? Why would you want me? I’m sick, barely seen anything outside of this hospital. Unless there’s something you need me to code, there’s not much I can help with,” she said in confusion, still distracted by the feeling of not feeling pain.

Phoenix had managed to go to school online and even get a two-year degree in computer programming at her mother’s request. Being told repeatedly that she would need the little piece of paper when she finally got cured and joined the rest of society. Phoenix hadn’t seen the point of it but she liked learning things and it gave her a good distraction from the daily monotony.

Video games were the only other thing she might be considered decent at but she assumed this stranger wasn’t here to recruit her to some guild or clan. Other than that, her main hobby, and favorite use of passing the time, was reading books. A love her mother passed on to her early in life and they would often be a book club of two; reading together and discussing fantastical stories and wishing for more.

“I’m not in need of a website, little one. I prefer to stay in the shadows,” the witch replied as a long staff appeared in her petite hand. There was a large sparkling diamond atop it in the shape of a star and it seemed to glow with an inner light as Morgan began walking around the room, dragging the staff along the ground as though drawing in the sand with a stick.

Phoenix tried to sit up more and see what was happening better but, despite there being no more pain, her muscles were too weak to respond to her will. Before she could ask what the witch was doing, however, Morgan continued speaking.

“You could say I’m a seeker of souls. Special ones. Souls with… potential.”

“Potential?”

“Yes,” the strange woman said, never stopping her weird movements around the room, “Everyone is born with potential. Some squander it. Some have it smothered by others. Some have more than others. Some use it all up. And some… a very rare few… are limitless. They break the rules and are the agents of change.”

Morgan stopped suddenly and turned to look at Phoenix. Finally making eye contact and causing her to flinch at the pitch black orbs that seemed to be endless voids threatening to swallow her up.

“I can sense this potential,” the witch said softly then walked closer towards her, “I can help put you on the path… but it’s you, and only you, who can choose to fulfill it. To go beyond all the others and shine brighter than the sun. To be a force of change for good or ill.”

Phoenix paused, unsure how to reply to the unusual solemnity the conversation had turned towards. She wasn’t sure what the stranger was getting at. If she had to pick from the examples the woman had given, she would have placed herself in the category of having all her potential used up, consumed by the sickness that has been trying to kill her since birth. She had even died the day she was born. At least for a few minutes when her heart had stopped and she had needed to be resuscitated. That was why her mom had named her Phoenix in the first place.

“I don’t have any potential left,” she murmured, the memory of her mom still too fresh of a wound.

The night witch grinned again and said, “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see about that,” then clapped her hands together and added, “I best get on with it then. Don’t want anyone realizing I healed you before I send you on your way.”

“Send me? What are you talking about? And what do you mean you healed me? I can’t even sit up straight,” she managed to sputter out, trying to understand what was happening.

Morgan grinned wider and held out her staff in front of her and answered, “Then I’ll send you somewhere you can. Please, don’t fade into nothingness. I’m expecting a good return on this investment after all.”

“Seriously, what are you-” Phoenix's words cut off as she was surrounded by sparkling stars floating in the air around her and a multicolored glow emanated from the floor under her where Morgan had been scratching her staff against the sterilized linoleum. Not believing the things she was seeing, and once more wondering if she really had died despite not remembering actually passing, she closed her eyes tightly, rubbing them with her palms as if to wipe the illusion from her sight.

“Good luck, Phoenix Fraser. It’s time for you to make a difference in the cosmos,” the witch said as the light began to shine brighter, “Oh, and try your best not to die.”

Pain returned suddenly, different this time. Her blood felt like it was on fire and her scream caught in her throat as her body tried to cry out yet no sound could be heard. It was like lava was being injected straight into her veins through the IV that had become a permanent accessory for her.

The only thought that entered her mind through the torture was that she didn’t want to die. Despite having nobody left, she wanted to live; wanted to experience more. Then the pain stopped just as quickly as it had begun and Phoenix sensed absolutely nothing at all.

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