by Jon David
Hammers echoed as slaves worked. Ropes and chains all around carried the rock and other precious discoveries on a pulley system up to the ceiling. Morgalla turned and screamed again at the sight before her. She was gawking at a creature the likes she had never seen. It walked upright, its skin almost white with eyes sunken into its skull. The strangest thing about the creature was the fact that it had no soul. Morgalla was shocked to see it, not having sensed it coming. She pivoted around and realized there were more beasts of burden and slaves carrying full buckets and hammering away at the cave walls.
Morgalla heard the crack and glanced up to one of the ledges. A massive demon stood there with a whip, shouting commands.
She had no time to think or contemplate what was going on because Plux had appeared in the tunnel. He swung again with his ax, cutting Morgalla’s tunic as she fell back. She grabbed onto a chain and felt gravity taking over, plummeting her down to the chasm below.
Plux lost his footing. The chain was the only thing to grab onto. He also fell, but his weight pulled Morgalla back up. She pointed and laughed as it was his turn to feel gravity pulling him down. Her celebration was short-lived as she came to a stop right in front of the massive demon holding the whip.
“Um…hi.”
He sneered at her. “Who are you?”
“That’s a long story. I don’t suppose you could just maybe let me go? I’m kinda having a bad day…”
The demon growled and reached for the chain.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Morgalla said.
She flipped to the ledge below him and ran down another tunnel. She heard the demon shout orders and knew she didn’t have much time.
Morgalla ran, encountering the beasts that walked on two legs around a corner. Their sudden appearance shocked her. She heard voices shouting down one tunnel and took off down the other.
Morgalla had to slow down because it got too dark in the tunnel to see much of anything. She heard the trickling of water, maybe a stream nearby, and slipped and slid down the rock. She clambered to grasp anything…to no avail. Morgalla saw light beneath her and was helpless as she came out the side of a cliff. Far beneath her was solid ground, and Morgalla swore as she plummeted through some pine trees headed that direction. She broke through some branches and came down hard on the ground while continuing to descend the steep hill, powerless to do anything else.
10
The Dead Leaves
The first thing Morgalla noticed was the cold, but the air was thick with humidity. Her next observation was the hill before her. Without time to react or anything to grab onto, she tumbled down the steep hill, barely missing a thick grove of trees and skidded to a halt among a bed of pine needles.
Morgalla inhaled and took in the scent of pine. All around her the trees stretched to the sky. She coughed and managed to sit up. Thankfully, nothing was broken, but she was battered and bruised. Since demons were made of strong stuff, it would take a little more than a tumble to hurt her. Morgalla looked up at the steep cliff where she had fallen from.
She brushed the pine needles from her hair and got to her feet. She checked to see if her medallion was still around her neck. Thankfully, it was. Staggering to a clearing, she spotted rolling hills covered in mist and pine trees. For a moment, she thought she might be on Usteron again.
Morgalla noted a light down in the valley and headed towards it. She crept closer and closer and noticed a clearing through the trees. There was a campfire and a lone, small figure by it. Whoever it was, they were clad in black with long, black hair that was unkempt. The person was working over a large, black pot. Steam poured from the top. Morgalla smelled something rancid coming from the camp.
There was no time to ponder or make a plan as she sensed the soul of Plux somewhere behind her. She spun around, eyes darting from one spot to the other, but could not see him. If she sensed his presence, he surely sensed her too.
As she stepped, her sounds attracted the attention of the creature at the camp whose gaze was now on her. Morgalla spotted a young, pale creature with bloodshot eyes. Her black lips parted into a snarl, revealing crooked, yellow teeth.
Uh-oh.
Upon command, she summoned the wind, and it lifted her from the ground. The beast picked a leaf from her hair, and she ate it. Raising her hand, she summoned brown leaves from all around. She moved her hands about like a sculptor with clay. With one command, the leaves attacked Morgalla.
Deciding not to stick around, Morgalla ran as fast as she could. The swarm of leaves was faster, and she it enveloped her, lifting her from the ground. Her arms and legs were bound, and soon her air was cut off. With Hero summoned, she cut through the leaves and landed on the ground. Morgalla hacked and slashed through the leaves. She saw her adversary hovering among the trees, approaching. The beast’s attention was now on Plux who was charging down the hill at Morgalla. With his ax unsheathed, he attacked her. Morgalla ducked and dodged every savage blow. Plux’s blade cut through the trees, sending splinters into the air. He stopped though when he saw the creature in black.
Through magic, the demon’s adversary summoned rows that swarmed about at Morgalla and Plux. Both demons hacked away at the beasts, to no avail. A whirlwind of black feathers formed around Plux, and it was clear to Morgalla that it was more than just feathers. The sound of metal cleaving flesh came from the tornado. Plux screamed from the vortex, and when the black subsided, all that was left was his skeleton that crumbled to the ground. Morgalla was shocked and then looked to her adversary who was smiling.
“We’re not together,” Morgalla said.
The beast hissed again, sending the crows to Morgalla. She ran for her life, dodging between the trees, feeling the feathers cut at her flesh. Up ahead she crossed a large rock and leapt off it with the beast on her heels. Morgalla took hold of the top of a small pine and pulled it to the ground. She released the tree, and it snapped up into the face of her pursuer.
The creature roared in annoyance and continued the attack. Morgalla maneuvered through the trees down a steep hill, sensing the black soul who was gaining ground in the chase. The trees parted to show the hill ended abruptly. Morgalla tried to stop, but it was too late. She was going over.
Morgalla swore as she felt nothing but air beneath her. Far below, in a roaring river, she landed in the frigid water as if knives were being driven into her flesh. She was at the mercy of the current, tumbling about. Kicking to the surface, she gasped for air when she broke through. She fought for the shore and finally made it, clawing through the mud.
The young demon coughed so much that her chest and throat hurt. Her body shivered. She fought for breath and for the strength to rise up and took in the forest surrounding her. The clouds had parted, showing two pale moons in the early evening sky.
Her arms hugged her body, and was shocked at the white vapor that appeared with each exhale. She heard animal howls off in the distance. By sheer instinct her hand went to her neck, readying Hero in an instant. Morgalla gasped as she realized her medal was missing.
Fear gripped her heart. “Oh no.”
She looked around frantically for any sign of the pendant…to no avail. Then she turned to the raging river where she had just emerged. Through the dusk, she saw the medal had snagged the branch of a fallen tree in the river. Cold water rushed past the river bank, and the branch wasn’t going to last long. Morgalla scrambled down the fallen tree, fighting to keep her balance. Just a few feet more and her possession would be back in her hand.
Morgalla knelt and stretched a hand out as far as it would go while the wood creaked under her weight. Just a couple inches more. The branch where the medal had been snagged broke.
“No,” Morgalla screamed.
She had only seconds to make a decision. Though the water was freezing and she couldn’t bear to go back in, she dove into the murk again anyway. Knives drove into her flesh, and her breath left her lungs. The pendant started to sink as it was being carried away with the current. M
orgalla was also at the mercy of the river and headed downstream against her will. She kicked and clawed against the water rushing past her. She stretched out for her weapon only to have it slip from her frigid fingers.
Having never been taught how to swim, Morgalla wasn’t adept at this new experience. All she could do was hold her breath and fight with all her might against the cold around her. Deeper and deeper she sank, her hands paddling to recover Hero. She felt the pressure against her ears and the tightness in her chest from lack of air.
She thought the water was her adversary, but with the unpredictable swirling, it almost brought the medallion right to her hands. She reached out and snatched her prize. Carried away again with the river flow, she couldn’t tell which was up or down. She sought out the light, but it was impossible.
Morgalla slowly rose closer and closer to the surface, and the pressure in her ears subsided. Through the murk, she noticed the glow of the twin moons. With what strength she had, she fought for the light. Finally breaking the surface, she gasped for breath. The roar of the river returned to her ears. She was still at the mercy of the current, and the water was getting rougher by the second. Though her muscles screamed in agony, she kicked and clawed her way to the shore just as the water had turned white and the roar deafening. She focused on the massive rocks ahead. Had she not found her way to land, she would have been in the middle of it.
Morgalla rested next to a massive rock and then fell to the ground. Her body heaved. She coughed and fought for precious breath. She opened her clenched fist and eyed the medallion. She clutched the precious item to her chest.
Shivering and spent, Morgalla made her way through the trees. She climbed a tree up to a large branch. With the medallion tight in her grasp, she rested against the trunk. She was sensitive to the creatures around her and realized only the local wildlife was near…no dark souls out to kill her. Morgalla finally breathed a sigh. Out of exhaustion, she was about to lose consciousness, but her eyes opened at the sound of thunder high above. She put up her hood and gave the sky the middle finger.
She shivered the whole night. Never before had she been this cold. At least the thicker cloak provided more protection, but she still had to huddle up, her limbs close and hugging her body. Her stomach was empty, and she groaned, rubbing her belly. The first rays of sun over the white mountains woke her as the light warmed her half-frozen lips and nose. Seeing the daylight was the only joy she felt.
Morgalla heard rustling sounds and voices that were getting closer. She remained in the tree, high above the ground but peered around below her. There was a trail, and some people were making their way with a couple of large animals that pulled a cart. She could barely see them, but they were the only signs of civilization in the area. She decided to try and get closer.
As she leapt from one tree to the other, Morgalla caught glances from the band that walked through the frigid wilderness. She must have made a sound because they stopped. Some of them drew weapons and their gaze turned up to the trees. Morgalla, standing on a thick branch, hid behind the trunk. She could feel their apprehension and fear and remembered what Delilah said about scared animals and how they were the most dangerous. She peeked from behind the trees and studied their faces. An amalgam of colors ranged from almost white, to pale pinks, light tans, and even browns. She could distinguish the females from their smooth faces. All the males had rough stubble, some even wore beards. Everyone in the group had dark-colored hair, mostly long and unkempt. Their clothing seemed primarily made from leathers and furs.
Morgalla recognized the bladed weapons, but a few of them held something she had never seen before. Some in the group held devices that appeared to be a blend of metal and wood. Was it a staff of some sort made of metal?
When they were apparently convinced there was no danger, they sheathed their weapons and continued on.
They can’t be demons. Their ears are so small, and they don’t have horns.
Following them was better than remaining out in the cold. That, and she was starving. She kept her distance just to be safe. As the group made their way through the wilderness, she realized the trees parted towards a valley. Morgalla saw a large town below. She noticed how clean it appeared. She could feel the mass of souls below.
Her wonder would be put on hold when she heard a commotion. Leaping from tree branch to tree branch, she located the group she had been following were in the midst of a commotion. Their souls were a mixture of fear and bloodlust, a sensation she had felt before. Clearly, they were in danger and in a battle for their survival. She caught up to them. They were fighting a large, hairy beast with horns. It snarled and swiped at the group with its claws. Morgalla pondered what to do. Would they welcome the help of a demon? Are they even aware of demons? Were they friendly? Maybe. Delilah said I could change my shape. Maybe if I hide what I really am…
The beast struck two of the party, and they fell to the ground. It slew one of the beasts of burden that had been hauling their wagon. A woman with a baby in her arms screamed as she fell off the wagon to the frozen ground. Morgalla sensed the sheer terror from the woman while she shielded her child from certain death. Morgalla had only seconds to act. She ran to the end of the branch and leapt as high as she could. In midair, she unveiled Hero and landed near the rampaging beast. The roaring ceased in an instant. So did the commotion. Morgalla, atop the slain animal, watched everyone with mouths hanging open.
“Mara,” a man called out, rushing to the woman who had fallen with the child.
Morgalla, just to be sure, ran her hand through her hair, feeling that her ear was smaller and her horn was no longer there.
It had worked.
Morgalla pulled her sword from the carcass. She gave a little wave to the people around her.
“Um…hi.”
“Who the hell are you? Where’d you come from?”
“I uh….well…”
“You an Izari?”
She turned to one of the men. “Who?”
“Answer his question,” another man demanded.
A third man stepped up. “Bill, she just saved your wife and child.”
Morgalla lost her footing and fell off the animal.
A woman helped Morgalla up, dusting the frost off her cloak. “You poor thing, you must be half-frozen.”
“A little more than that, actually,” Morgalla replied with chattering teeth.
“Kinda far from an Izara camp, aren’t you?”
Morgalla looked up at the man. Boy, was he tall. “Yyy…eah. Pretty far.”
“Damn, she killed it with one blow.”
Morgalla noticed another member of the group inspecting the body of Morgalla’s kill.
“L…lucky shot, I guess,” Morgalla said, her teeth still chattering.
“This will be worth a small fortune, Bill.”
The man, who was clearly their leader, gave his own brief inspection of the beast. “Yeah. It will make up for our losses.”
“Excuse me?” Morgalla chimed. “But I seem to recall that I killed it.”
“And are you going to skin it, prepare the carcass for trade in the town?”
Morgalla hadn’t thought of that.
“A share, then.”
Mara, holding her still crying child, stepped up. “Bill, she saved your daughter and me.”
The man pondered a moment. “Ten gold marks.”
Morgalla was confused. She had no idea if that was a lot of money or if they were trying to rob her. She wasn’t as good at reading the souls of others as Delilah was. She wondered a moment what she might do if Delilah was there.
She’d probably punch him in the face and hold a sword up to his neck.
“Is that the best deal you can make me?” Morgalla asked.
“Not really,” Bill replied.
He suddenly was confused as to why the truth just came out of his mouth. Due to Morgalla’s influence, his conscience couldn’t help but make him tell the truth.
“Then what is
a fair deal?” Morgalla demanded.
“Closer to twenty. No more.”
“Okay, twenty.”
11
Freedom Ridge
Morgalla and the group of wanderers spent the rest of the morning traveling to the town and getting this thing called money. They stopped at a trader’s post, a huge log cabin with all sorts of horns and antlers on the walls. At least it was warm inside. Morgalla’s eyes couldn’t keep still due to the decorations on all the walls, she noticed some looked like dracon horns.
With money in her pocket, Morgalla set off for…well, what was she going to do? She arrived in this strange world she’d never seen or known about. Her only knowledge was that she could blend in with the populace and they used money. She stepped out onto the trader’s porch. The weather had warmed up a bit, but Morgalla spotted black clouds on the horizon that brought her mood down.
The path was short leading into town. Pine trees parted and revealed buildings no higher than two stories. They passed through an archway with a sign—Freedom Ridge—and stepped on a street made of rectangular red brick. The buildings were also mostly made up of brick and stone with wooden rooftops. People walked around the town, from the smiles on their faces, the moods were a mix but mostly positive.
Morgalla wandered to the center of town and saw the tallest of buildings was a clock tower…maybe four stories high…if she had to guess. In front of it was a metal statue of a bird with its wings outstretched. Behind that was a red, white, and blue flag.
Morgalla pondered just what to do next.
How do I get home?
Wait. Get home? Did she even want to go back? This place didn’t seem so bad, after all. But surely Delilah must be going out of her mind with worry. Her mentor was really the only reason Morgalla would even return to that horrible place. Maybe she’d do some exploration first, and see if this place truly was better than Hell. With her stomach twisting in hunger, Morgalla sought out some food. She caught the scent of something cooking and followed it to a tavern of some sort. Plenty of people milled around inside either sitting and eating. The room bustled with activity, and Morgalla had to watch out with all the movement. She watched as men and women brought out food for people sitting at tables. It smelled good, whatever it was.