by Jon David
“Aw, damn.”
Though annoyed, she was surprised to see an old, small desk. On top of it was a large book. She approached it, running her hands over the dark red leather. There was a note which read:
Just say Dear Diary.
“Dear Diary?”
The front cover opened, and there was a small burst of flame on the page. She looked and watched the words she’d said written in what appeared to be black ink.
“Wow.”
There was another burst of flame and the word Wow appeared.
Yeah, that’s cute.
28
Bury Your Feelings
Days had passed, and it seemed Morgalla might slink past anyone’s eye. She spent little to no time with other demons. Finally, Delilah had to come looking for her and found her in her room.
Morgalla knew whose soul it was from the other side of the door. Delilah was the only one who ever came visiting, but thankfully Morgalla never opened the door to anyone else.
“And where have you been?” Delilah inquired.
Morgalla held up the file given to her by her superiors. “My job.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. Her soul fumed. “And what piece of the crap world are they having you explore next?”
Morgalla had the file in her hand and showed it to Delilah. She rolled her eyes, and a laugh echoed in the room.
“What is it?” Morgalla asked. “Something wrong with this world?”
“No, nothing is wrong with it, if you like a planet infested with humans. And I do mean infested.” Delilah took a moment to massage her temples. “Look, I don’t know what your true intentions are with this world…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. No one knows you better than I. If you have any sense, you will do what you are told.”
Morgalla turned her back. “All mighty Zorach? Making all in his sight kneel before him?”
“You speak so ill of your own father?”
Morgalla spun around. She stared at Delilah whose expression was blank. No deception from her soul.
“You…how long have you known?” Morgalla asked.
“There’s a lot I suspect, young one. But there is also much I keep to myself. Years ago, I wondered why Zorach wanted me to watch over a young child.”
“You never asked?”
“One does not ask questions here. But it was clear to me that you were of value to Zorach, and that was all I needed to know…at the time.”
“And now someone told you?”
Delilah stepped closer and lowered her voice. “He wants his eye on you, child. No longer will my protection be enough.”
Morgalla plopped down on her bed. She gripped the sheets, and her jaw clenched.
Delilah said and did nothing at first, but finally, she felt compelled to bestow another lesson. “Fear is a savage peak we all must face, Morgalla, and we all face it many times in our lives. You will conquer it.”
Morgalla absorbed the words and was silent only a moment. “Can I be alone, please?”
Morgalla stared at the floor. Delilah left her with much to contemplate.
Weeks passed, and for a time, Morgalla had slipped into a routine. She kept her mouth shut and did everything Delilah told her.
Pretty soon her constant visits to an assigned world started to feel like a mini-vacation every day. Surrounded by humans, she felt as though she could relax and not put on a fake persona even though she never wore her real face.
Dear Diary,
Two minutes after arriving here, I almost got killed by a monstrosity screaming past me at an incredible speed. I didn’t know what it was, but it was made of metal, and it had a lot of wheels.
After doing some exploring, I discovered that these devices are called cars and the one that almost killed me is called a semi.
The portal dropped me into a wilderness near a town. I don’t think the tunnel could have held more than one person at a time. For a moment, I even thought I might get stuck.
This town is very different from Freedom Ridge. ’Lectricity and tek-nology are rampant everywhere, in every building. The people even carry tek-nology with them wherever they go.
The souls of people are strange too. They stand right next to each other, yet they seem so distant from one another. I can’t quite put my finger on why or how.
In Freedom Ridge, the people were like an iron chain that nobody could break. Maybe it was the constant threat of blizzards or demons that kept them together. Here…the people are very safe. I wonder if they realize that. I doubt they appreciate it.
I really doubt it.
They also don’t know about us. Magic, demons, it’s all myth. They take pride in their tek-nology and their logic, yet they also cherish fantasy and faith. They are a paradox.
From what I can tell, it seems like a nice place. Nicer than Hell, anyway. Who knows, maybe I’ll like exploring it.
One evening at a gathering at Zorach’s castle, everyone in attendance was dressed in the uniform of leather and metal, all black. Symbols of gold were adorned up their arms, some more than others. Delilah wore her uniform with pride. Her heart swelled with joy, walking among her own kind again. She was home.
She looked around and didn’t see Morgalla. Some inquired where her apprentice might be.
Child, you had better be here, Delilah thought.
Morgalla had noticed that Zorach’s castle was much less opulent than Makrus’s. The high red stone was worn from the centuries. Black marble flooring didn’t shine, and the walls were blank except for a large vanity mirror that stretched almost as high as the ceiling.
She stared at the uniform in the mirror. The leather was tight and uncomfortable, and the armor didn’t make her feel any safer.
“There you are.”
She turned and saw Delilah approaching, cloak of black flowing behind her. Morgalla held up her arms and referred to the golden symbols on the backs of her hands and on the plates of armor on her shoulders.
“What are these? A rank?”
“We all must start somewhere. But that’s not all. The symbol is a reminder to everyone of your standing in society. But you must exceed that.”
“Bury my feelings?”
Delilah paused. Her next words came with serious conviction. “Yes…and more so. You must grow up.” Her student gave a deep inhale, and her lips clenched. “You don’t like that? Well too bad. It is life, young one, and we all must live it. Do you choose to be a victim or a predator? Because if you are not one, you are the other. Choose carefully.”
They both felt the presence of their master and turned to the chamber doors. Delilah spun on her heel and walked away, but she had one more lesson to add before she left the castle.
She looked over her shoulder as her voice carried throughout the great hall. “Oh, and you had better choose the latter because I didn’t teach you to be a victim.”
Morgalla gave a sarcastic bow to her teacher who disappeared in a huff.
The young demon sighed. She felt her heart, a raging animal within her rib cage. The pounding echoed through her ears, and the twist in her stomach had become an unwelcome companion in recent weeks. Her eyes studied the castle that felt like a tomb. She fought the stinging in them and sought out something happy to latch onto. She couldn’t.
Morgalla heard metal latches echo inside the hall. At the opposite end, the massive black doors slowly parted. A rush of cold filled the room, making it as freezing as any winter. Morgalla exhaled and saw her breath linger in front of her.
A shadowy image emerged from the doorway, the black of its cloak appearing alive as it sought to envelop the walls and floor. She watched the helmet of an emotionless beast and the black horns that stretched from either side of its head.
Its soul was like iron, an ancient monster that had seen many centuries and whose black heart revealed nothing. She could, however, feel his eyes upon her.
Morgalla took a strong hold of the golden symbols on
the backs of her hands and on her shoulders and tore them off. The metal clanged on the stone floor. To hell with rank, and to hell with status. She inhaled another deep breath and stepped forward to meet her father.
About the Author
Born and raised in Southeast Michigan, Jon David was a nerd long before it was ever popular. He hoped to be a comic writer/illustrator when he created Morgalla in college. Since then, between working various jobs, he's honed his craft and turned his misunderstood demon heroine into a four-part epic series.
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Website: http://www.morgalla.net/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Morgalla
Deviant Art: https://zeartist.deviantart.com/
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