The Conquest of Mytheyr

Morgan woke up, but she didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t in the cell of Blood Iron, but that was the only thing she knew for sure. Slowly, she began to recall the events of her last bout of consciousness. Vath. He was alive.

As much as that thought lifted her, she still pretended to be sleeping, observing her surroundings as much as she could without her sight. She was lying in a bed, covered in a thin sheet. There was a warm weight on her stomach, on top of the sheet. Morgan could hear the wind rustling outside, but that did not tell her where she was. What did, however, was the faint smell of the thing on her stomach, a dull reptilian smell, but with a faint underlying smell of ozone. Morgan opened her eyes a slit, excitement gathering in her chest.

“Timbltin?” she asked when she saw a little blue body.

“She’s awake!” the little dragon yelled, nearly smacking Morgan in the face with his tail as he turned around. He headbutted her cheek affectionately, giving her his little dragonish grin.

The third and youngest of Morgan’s dragon partners, Timbltin was a midnight blue dragon the length of Morgan’s arm. He had bright blue eyes and two curving black horns protruding from his brow. His body was long and lithe, made for racing across trees one instant and leaping into flight the next. Unlike most Iridethian dragons, which generally had blunt snouts, Timbltin’s snout came to a beak-like point. But Timbltin did not owe his small size to his age, in fact he was nearly full grown, but to his species, a true mutt of small dragons.

They were in a gray tent, the walls of which were moving with the breeze. It was outfitted as a medical tent, with two rows of white beds on each side, and a long table on either end filled with various supplies to aid elves in their healing.

“Careful, Tim.” laughed one of only two people who was allowed to call Timbltin Tim.

“Raven!” Morgan said, flooded with relief, “I’ve never been happier to see you.” Right now, the dark tattoos around Raven’s bright eyes seemed to be the best thing Morgan had seen all day. “I seriously thought I was going to die.” Morgan laughed, still giddy from relief and joy.

“Even though you’ve made your peace with the idea of death, others haven’t.” Raven snapped, her expression turning fierce.

“Raven…” Morgan said in surprise. “No, I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s not me you should apologize to. It’s the hot Dark Elf outside.”

“I- wait what?” Morgan exclamied, as Raven cracked a grin that would make even Loki proud. “I hate you!” Morgan exclaimed, grabbing the pillow on her bed and tossing it at Raven, who was laughing too hard to catch it.

“You-should-have-seen-your-face” she gasped between breaths.

“Yours is turning red.” Morgan retorted. “Bitch.”

“Asshole.” Raven said, trying to compose herself. “You’re well enough to sit up. That’s good. That Dark Elf didn’t tie it properly, so by the time you got to me, it had healed all wrong. I’m pretty sure I fixed it, but you’ll have scars for a little. Nothing permanent.”

Morgan looked at her wrists and saw them covered with a gauze. She wanted to take it off and have a look, but she knew Raven probably wouldn’t let her.

“Sooo what’s his name? I didn’t get to ask. He was a little frantic when he brought you. Not that I blame him.”

“His names Vath.” Morgan said, blushing a bit. “Wait, where are we?” she realized. “This is Rimcenter, right? How did we get here, we were at the palace...”

“Well, a Merax brought you, so I guess he knew something. He gets along well with Nightshade, if you’re wondering. But anyway, about Vath…”

Morgan scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you dare shrug it off!” Raven scolded. “You totally kissed him.”

“Did you?” Timbltin asked, looking up at her from his spot on her lap.

“I thought he was dying.” Morgan muttered. “It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“Oh, name one.” Raven scoffed.

“Ferris.” she retorted.

“Wasn’t that because you lost a bet?”

“The bet was for twenty… dollars. It was in America, right? No, it was Canada. Anyway, I kissed him ’cause the fucker deserved it. Not even you could pull that off.”

“It was America, Michigan in fact.” Raven corrected her. “And I totally could do that.”

“Yeah right. You pull it off, I might kiss you too. Maybe. Probably not.”

“Anywhoodle about him quote dying unquote.”

Raven walked to the back of the tent and picked up a notebook that was sitting next to an alchemy setup. She flipped it open to a book mark, and made her way back to Morgan’s bed.

“I made him give me a blood sample. There wasn’t much left, but it was one hell of a cocktail. But, basically, it was tetrodotoxin, magically tailored so the victim would wake up when he slash she was properly commanded to.”

“You’re telling me I was fooled by Haitian zombie poison?” Morgan said in disbelief.

“Which brings me to my point.” Raven said, taking a paper out of the middle of the notebook. “Raven,” she read aloud, “If anything happens to me, I want you to use my true name. I won’t hold it against you.” she lowered the paper and gave Morgan a stern look. “What the fuck is that? Why, in Frey’s name would you send me such a worrying message, out of the blue, and absolutely no explanation?”

Morgan sighed, looking down and scratching Timbltin behind the horns.

“You should have seen Marine when she read that.” Timbltin told her, “I’ve never seen her so frustrated.” A true name was a big deal. It held a certain power over the one who it belonged to. Your true name was a summery of your entire being. Morgan sighed.

“Semele’s been using dream magic against me. He tried to put a binding spell on me one night. If he had succeeded… you’d be the only one-”

“That fucking asshole tried to put a binding spell on you?” Raven snarled. “The dream magic was expected, that guy had second school written all over him, but a binding spell…”

“While you’re already angry,” Morgan sighed, her heart heavy in her chest, unsure of how say it, but knowing it needed to be said, “Semele is the reason Markus…” she couldn’t finish, but it was enough.

Raven stopped at very mention of the name. She stood, frozen, for almost a minute, her mind putting the pieces together. Her face was pale, and Timbltin had an identical reaction. Finally, the silence was broken by Timbltin’s hoarse whisper.

“Markus?” he said, in horrified awe.

“I see.” Raven said quietly, bowing her head. She sighed heavily and asked, “There are ten of our boys here. Should I tell them?”

“Yes.” Morgan said softly. “Let them know who destroyed their home.”

They were silent for a long while. Then Raven shook her head and cleared her throat.

“Look, forget about that for now. You made it to Rimcenter, didn’t you?” She tried to return the cheer to her voice. “That’s something to celebrate. Now,” she opened the front tent flap, “welcome to the conspiracy.”