by J. M. Briggs
No one paid her much attention as everyone was settling down for the night. With each passing moment, more and more people were vanishing into their roundhouses as the long summer's day came to a close. Morgana picked up her pace and glanced around as she approached the gate. A few men were standing in a circle talking about the wandering priest which only served to enrage Morgana even more. Quietly, she slipped past them and outside the wooden wall of the village.
With the sun sinking, the gentle rolling grasslands around the village were dotted with long shadows. The almost full moon was already rising in the sky promising Morgana at least some light. She walked along the wall for a few moments before veering off to head for the nearest hill. Glancing over her shoulder, Morgana noted with relief that no one was following her and there were no sounds of alarm. With luck she could complete her business and slip back to Caoimhe's for dinner.
Morgana reached the hill and followed the slope down until the village was out of sight. Opening her bag, Morgana's fingers brushed the small jet carving that her mother had given her a few years ago and a small gold coin that had been brought back from Rome before she located the large round metal disk at the bottom of the bag. Pulling it out, Morgana released a long slow breathe and ran her fingers along the edges of the metal.
Closing her eyes, Morgana struggled to connect to her weakening magic. The connection had crumbled in the last few years and now she felt as if she was seeking to draw water with a bucket filled with holes. All her energy and former power just slipped away. Cold seeped into her body and her fingers felt frozen to the metal as she pushed every spark of magic that she could muster into the metal. Her entire body shook, her breathing became labored and her legs gave out under her. Crashing to her knees, Morgana held back a cry and instead used the rush of pain to force more magic into the mirror. The metal surface clouded only in the center, but it was enough and Morgana felt a burst of triumph.
“Morgana my darling,” Queen Scáthbás cooed through the mirror, “It has been so long since you have sent news to me my precious.”
“I am sorry,” Morgana gasped out, “My magic… it is fading more and more by the day.”
“Your magic… oh that cursed Iron Realm,” the Queen snapped, her musical and gentle tone falling away to anger and urgency. “It only proves each day why it must be brought into our light, does it not my precious one. Perhaps it is time to bring you home to me, at least for a brief time.”
The thought of returned to Sídhean made Morgana's heart race, but she wasn't certain if she was happy or frightened by the idea. Queen Scáthbás smiled warmly at her and stroked the surface of her mirror as if reaching for Morgana's own face.
“You are becoming so lovely my darling,” the Queen sighed. “I curse the fact that you are needed in the Iron Realm and cannot be at my side.”
Tears welled up in Morgana's eyes and her throat felt tight. She nodded quickly and sniffed as she struggled to control her reaction to the Queen.
“I have news,” Morgana managed to say and Queen Scáthbás' kind expression cooled into a regal one.
“Then report,” her Queen ordered, looking at Morgana with intense violet eyes that were clear even if the rest of her face was not.
“A wandering priest named Myrddin who calls himself Merlin arrived today and told my pa- the Iron folk leaders that the child Arto is a weapon against the Sídhe. He plans to train the boy in how to fight you.”
“Merlin is there!” Queen Scáthbás hissed, her tone low and harsh. “Damn that abomination!”
“Who is he?” Morgana asked before she thought better of it.
“He is the abomination,” Queen Scáthbás answered, no longer even really speaking to Morgana and just venting her anger. “His mother was an iron folk priestess who one of my soldiers enjoyed and allowed to live not knowing that by terrible iron magic trickery she carried a babe. By some horrible accident he was born with our power, but tied to the Iron Realm. For many years now he has thwarted many of my military expeditions across the land.”
“But he cannot stop you,” Morgana replied quickly, “I mean, he can't possibly have enough power.”
“No not on his own,” the Queen muttered thoughtfully. “I had wanted to know the powers of the weapon before it came to this, but there is now no choice in the matter.”
“What will happen?” she questioned urgently, leaning closer to the mirror.
“Return to the iron folk,” Queen Scáthbás commanded Morgana, not answering her question. “I will consider if we have continued need of you in the Iron Realm or if I shall send a Rider to bring you back to me.”
Before Morgana could say anything else, the magical link was cut by the queen. Gasping, Morgana dropped the mirror on the grass and struggled to breathe as the last of her magic was pulled from her in a violent burst. She did not know how long it was before she regained control and carefully picked up the mirror. It was a struggle to stand, but she managed it and looked up. The sun had set and only the moon provided any light to her.
Closing her eyes, Morgana breathed in deeply and tried to calm her warring emotions. She might be returning to the queen, but… what was going to happen to Arto. Merlin could die, but hopefully her iron family could be kept safe. It would be hard for them to accept the Sídhe rule, but Morgana would have a powerful position. She could protect them and help them to understand. Yet, the thoughts did not comfort her as they usually did and the mirror in her hand felt icy cold and heavy.
“Morgana,” a soft timid voice called. “Morgana are you alright?”
Gasping in surprise, Morgana spun to see Arto quickly coming up behind her. “Arto,” she called, hiding the metal disk behind her back. “What are you doing out here?”
“Something strange is going on,” her brother informed her. “Mother came to fetch me, but she'd been crying. I asked her what was wrong, but she wouldn't say. I – I thought something had happened to you because of that new priest that came to town. The last one thought you were a changeling-”
Dropping to her knees, Morgana placed one hand on her brother's shoulder and shushed him in a gentle voice. She gave him a soft smile and chuckled before she assured him, “I am fine Arto. I was just… just a bit bored waiting for Mother and Uthyrn to finish with Myrddin or Merlin or whatever it is he calls himself.”
“Mother called him Merlin,” Arto offered, relaxing slightly and giving his sister a smile.
“Merlin then,” Morgana muttered before she looked over her brother's shoulder back towards the village where the glow of fires could be seen. “Did you really rush off on mother?”
The boy flushed and Morgana barely contained a laugh. Darkness was beginning to settle around them and even in the moonlight it would be a difficult walk without a torch. Standing up, Morgana dusted off her dress and tightened her shawl around her as the heat of the day was quickly fading.
A howl ripped through the cooling air was dusk settled over the hills. Morgana straightened up and listened to the wind as it rushed past her, wondering if she had merely imagined the noise. Then another howl echoed down the valley and her heart jumped in her chest. Her time on Earth had not dimmed her memories of that majestic howl, of the baying of the Queen's Hounds. She'd seen them so rarely, but the memory of them was fixed in her mind.
“Morgana?” Arto called, shivering in the cold and looking nervously in the direction that the howl had come from.
“It's alright Arto,” Morgana promised with a pleased smile. The Sídhe were returning for her.
“But, that doesn't sound like a dog,” Arto protested, reaching over and grabbing his sister's hand. “What if it's a wolf?”
“It isn't,” Morgana assured him, but the boy began to tug her in the direction of home.
She stumbled every time that she tried to look around in hopes of seeing one of the Hounds. In the moonlight, she imagined that it would look truly magnificent.
“Morgana,” Arto called, giving her hand another tug. “Hurry!”
Another howl sounded through the hills, much closer than before and Morgana froze as she heard rapid footfalls behind them. Pulling her hand away from Arto's, Morgana spun to look behind them where the moon was casting shadows with every rock and tree. The lean canine form stepped out of the long shadows and into sight, its fur glistening in the moonlight. Gaping in awe, Morgana relaxed at the sight of the beautiful creature as it moved closer with smooth steps that displayed its powerful and graceful form. It wasn't until the whimpers of Arto reached her that Morgana felt any worry. A snarl erupted from the Hound and Arto stumbled back as the creature approached him. The small boy's eyes were wide in terror, shining with unshed tears of fright and Morgana was frozen in place. The Hound's ears slanted backwards and it bared its sharp teeth.
The Hound stopped, sniffing the air and turning to look directly at Morgana with flashing violet eyes. It considered her for a moment before turning its head back towards her brother. Arto was in danger, Morgana knew, but the Hounds could only be sent forth by the Queen's command which meant that this was her will. As the Hound stepped closer to Arto who stumbled away from it, Morgana was frozen with indecision. Her brother was real, she cared for him, but the mere memory of her queen made her heart race and filled her with a deep gratitude. She couldn't move, she couldn't think straight and couldn't decide.
The Hound leapt forward, teeth bared, long claws poised to slice Arto to ribbons and a snarl ripping through the night. There was a rumble and the ground shook, sending Morgana crashing to her knees as a pillar of earth rose up in front of Arto. Crashing into the wall, the Hound fell to the ground and snarled, twisting back to its feet. Before it could take another step, the wall of earth crumbled down around the Hound in a swirl of rock and dirt. Snarls turned to whimpers in a split second as the earth closed around the creature in a thick layer of dirt. The sudden small cocoon rumbled and contorted violently. Even through the sound of the shifting rock, Morgana could hear the cracking of bones before the earthen structure crumbled away leaving no trace of the Hound.
Arto's eyes were wide and the tremors of his shaking were visible even in the low light of the moon. Reaching towards him, Morgana found herself unable to move her legs and stand.
“Arto,” she called gently, crawling forward a tiny bit. “Arto.”
“Do not,” a stern male voice commanded with barely contained anger.
Twisting to look over her shoulder, Morgana's breath fled as Merlin strode past her, his staff thudding against the ground with every step. He did not look at Morgana. As he approached her terrified brother, Morgana found the strength to climb to her feet, but swayed unsteadily.
“Easy child,” Merlin said gently and Morgana realized that he was speaking with Arto.
The small boy was still shaking, his wide brown eyes locked in a gaze with Merlin. Sighing softly, Merlin reached forward and placed a hand on Arto's head. The boy's eyes slide shut and he slumped forward into Merlin's waiting arms. Adjusting his grip, Merlin swept the child up, carefully balanced on his forearms with his staff still poised for battle. Instead of turning towards the village, Merlin shifted to face the opposite direction and began to walk, passing Morgana without a word.
“No!” Morgana cried, lunging towards Merlin to grab Arto's hand. “Don't take him!”
Cold brown eyes met hers and Morgana gasped as a rush of magic surged through her. It was a warning, cold and distant. Her limbs stopped moving, her grip on Arto's hand cold and loose. Merlin tightened his grip on the boy and drew him away from Morgana.
“Stay back,” Merlin ordered his voice icy and barely veiling his anger. “I feel grief for what was done to you Morgana, but you cannot serve two worlds with any sense of truth.”
“But,” Morgana gasped, trying to think of words to defend herself, to explain.
“Do not protest to me,” Merlin hissed, drawing Arto further away from her.
“I haven't told them anything important,” Morgana promised, stumbling forward on shaky legs. “And they already knew about Arto that is why…”
“Why they did this foul magic,” Merlin finished, his brown eyes taking her in sharply. “Yet you made contact tonight. I felt your strained magic calling out to them. Had you not done so then perhaps I could have allowed the boy to remain here longer, but you have confirmed his importance to them. I will not risk it.”
“Please,” Morgana begged, her legs giving out completely as she gazed at Arto. “Please don't take him.”
Merlin stepped further away from her, cradling Arto gently and shook his head. “No,” he answered simply. “He will be taken care of Morgana,” he promised, his tone softening. “I will protect him.”
“I could protect him here!” Morgana protested. “I am a mage like you!”
“And yet your powers were barely enough to contact the Sídhe,” Merlin countered. “You are of no use in protecting the boy.”
“My powers are strong,” Morgana argued, trying to force her icy limbs to move, to allow her to stand and steal her brother from Merlin. “I was taught by the Sídhe Queen, I…. I would protect him.”
“Even from your queen?” Merlin asked and when she didn't not answer he nodded. “That is the truth you chose to ignore child. This boy is a threat to the Sídhe and they will destroy him, especially now that they know I have taken an interest in him. He is no longer a curiosity or a potential threat, he is a true danger. The Sídhe are not the benefactors of humanity, but nothing more than slavers. And deep down, you know that, don't you?”
“I would protect him,” Morgana told Merlin weakly, her chest tightening at the thought of the Sídhe ever laying a hand on her precious brother, even the queen.
“No,” Merlin said, his voice sorrowful, “No you would not. I waited longer than I should have tonight to see if you would, but you did not move. You did nothing. I do not doubt that you love your brother and others in our Iron Realm, but you still obey the Sídhe. You have never left that part of you behind. That is why you have so little magic left child. You are torn between worlds and you have no truth. The magic of both the Sídhe Realm and the Iron Realm has abandoned you.”
A cry ripped from Morgana's throat as Merlin turned away from her, his talismans jiggling and his staff dragging slightly on the ground with each step his took as he carried away her brother. Unable to look away or move, Morgana watched as the mage vanished over the hill with Arto and passed out of sight. Collapsing forward into the dirt, Morgana sobbed and clawed at the ground. She reached into her pouch and drew out her small mirror, clutching it to her chest as her only lifeline.
25
Alignment
Alex placed her hand on Bran's shoulder as she leaned over him with a mixture of excitement, anticipation and dread as her fellow magic student focused on the small stone that was slowly moving across the top of the table on its own. Alex grinned as the stone floated into the air and slowly turned three times. She pulled back her hand from Bran's shoulder and clapped it against her other hand, tangling her fingers together in an effort to stay still. The stone clattered to the table and Bran released a long puff of air, slumping forward.
“Well done,” Merlin congratulated loudly from in front of Bran. “I told you that mediation would help you find you center.”
“Telekinesis,” Aiden cheered from behind Alex. “I'm jealous, that's way more useful than setting things on fire.”
Turning to look back at Aiden, Alex noted his wide smile and Nicki barely containing her own excitement next to him.
“It is likely that you all will be able to move objects with magic in the future,” Morgana informed them calmly from the front of the room where she was erasing the white board. “At your current level magic manifests in you in the fashion that is best suited and natural to you. Once you grow stronger and have more control you'll be able to bring forth magic in other forms.”
Merlin turned to look at Morgana and shook his head before looking back to the students. “I think that is enough for no
w. Well done Bran, you will find it easier now to access your magic having managed it once.”
Alex could feel Merlin's gaze turn on her and quickly returned to her desk to pack up her things. Doing her best to stay calm, Alex could feel her excitement slipping away as it sank in that now she was the only one who hadn't accessed her magic yet. For a moment she really hoped that Bran was right about the dreams being some kind of magic of their own, but then remembered his warning theory and shoved the thought away.
“Wait,” Nicki called from her own desk, “Professor Cornwall I have a question.”
Alex glanced up to see Morgana sigh and put down the eraser. “Of course you do,” Morgana muttered before she looked over at Nicki. “What is it?”
“Uh, Christmas break starts in only a couple of days-”
“Yes I know,” Morgana interrupted, “Just keep up your mediation exercises and if you practice your magic then be careful, especially you Aiden. We'll skip magic class this Thursday since you have finals and will meet again the first Monday back.”