The Conquest of Mytheyr

“Vath.” she said, a balloon of happiness swelling in her chest. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re okay too, I…” the impulse he had when he had first seen her wore off, and he reverted once again his awkward self. “I… wanted to ask… I, uh…”

“I meant what I said.” Morgan told him, smiling gently. “But we don’t know each other all that well, and this world is still in danger. I promise we’ll figure it out when the threat of Semele passes.”

“Ok.” Vath said, unsure if what he felt was happiness or disappointment. “But… I just wanted to know…” He looked down at the ground and shuffled his feet, trying to find the courage to say, “I wanted to know what you see in me.”

“I love how resilient you are. You constantly overcome your awkwardness and shyness with your curiosity. You were thrown into something entirely new and strange, yet you hit the ground running. You don’t lose your head in a fight, and you want to protect those you’ve come to care about. Also, you’re adorable when you blush.”

Vath blushed even harder and looked down at the ground again.

“Don’t just stand there, boy.” Marine cut in, “Say something!”

“Marine!” Morgan exclaimed, punching the dragon, who didn’t even blink, “Seriously? Like, seriously?” Bane was unsuccessfully holding back laughter, while Timbltin fell off Morgan’s shoulder, rolling in the dirt.

“Your face, Morgan!” Timbltin giggled, “I wish I had a mirror.”

“Wow,thanks. Thanks a lot guys.” Morgan muttered. “Vath, this bunch of hyenas is my family. This is Bane, Marine, and the pipsqueak on the ground is Timbltin.”

Vath took his first close look at real, living dragons. He imagined them bigger. They looked similar to the snakelike creatures he saw in Morgan’s cell… Bane interrupted him before he connected the pieces.

“So, you like Morgan, do you?” Bane said, looking down his snout at him, putting on his most effective intimidation face.

“Please, Bane, I don’t need you to be my dad.” Morgan rolled her eyes. “Come on, Vath, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Oh, are we not invited?” Marine said with mock hurt.

“Go away, please.” Morgan said, adopting an accent.

“What was that?” Bane exclaimed.

“It was supposed to be a Jack Sparrow impression, duh. You know what? Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you especially, chuckles.” She pointed to Bane, Marine and Timbltin in turn. “Come on, Vath.” she said, dramatically storming away.

Vath stood still a few seconds, his face an amusing expression of complete confusion. He turned and jogged to catch up with Morgan. At first he thought she was actually mad, but even though her head was down, her ear to ear grin betrayed her. Sitting down on a pile of old stones, Morgan burst out into laughter.

“I love those assholes.” She chuckled. She patted the rock next to her, inviting Vath to sit. As he took her invitation, he couldn’t help but note that he had never seen her this happy. Also, it was the first time he had seen her so… relaxed. Her hair was loose for once, a huge brown mass of curls flowing down her back. She wore white tank top and leggings, both of which were smeared with dirt, and she had no shoes on.

Morgan was making her own observations. There were a great many things on his mind, and he didn’t seem quite able to keep up with them. She had an idea of a few things that could be rattling around his head, but she thought she probably didn’t know the half of it. He seemed withdrawn, his face settled into a serious, brooding expression. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but she didn’t really want to put him on the spot. What if he didn’t want to talk about it? She had to say something. The silence around him just seemed too heavy.

“I’m sorry.” Morgan blurted out.

“Sorry?” Vath said, shaking out of his thoughts. “What are you sorry for?”

“Raven told me about the poison. If I had been stronger, I would have recognized it. We would have never ended up in the palace.”

“Isn’t Raven the one with the tattoos? I didn’t understand a thing she told me, except the part where it didn’t kill me. It’s not your fault. I thought I was dying too, so I can’t blame you.” he answered quietly. “When I woke up in that cell, I thought I’d never see you again. Then Semele came in, and I was just angry at him. Like, really angry. But before I could do anything, he left, and then the ghost led me to you… I don’t know. I was scared.”

“Wait, ghost?” Morgan asked.

“Yeah. A girl, with red eyes and black hair. She got me out and showed me where you were. She also showed me where my knives were so I could… oh no!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“The crossbow. I didn’t even bother to look for it. I guess your weapons got left behind, too. I’m sorry, Morgan.”

“Dammit!” she exclaimed, “My bag is in there… there’s literally thousands of gold’s worth in there… Shrike won’t be happy if I lose my XAVIER tablet… and if Semele thinks to dig through it… fuck. I don’t blame you, though. I probably would have forgotten it too.” At this point, she had forgotten the question she meant to ask about the ghost entirely, as her mind was busy running possibilities of how Semele could screw them all over with the contents of her bag. “Then again,” she considered out loud, “Semele probably couldn’t figure out how to use any of my tech. On the other hand, maybe he could.”

“What about your weapon?” Vath interrupted. “Now that I think about it, I don’t actually know what it is. I’ve seen it transform… so…”

Morgan gave a wolfish grin and held out her palm, calling the name of her blade. Liquid silver seemed to condense out of the air, forming a pool in her palm. The pool stretched, forming the shape before solidifying into a dagger. Vath’s jaw dropped.

“This is Trinity’s true form.” Morgan explained with the air of an inventor showing off his favorite creation, “A blade that can take any form its creator and owner desires, non living, of course. This blade will protect its owner, creator, and those that they hold dear, but if wielded by anyone else, it will slay them by turning their own hand against them. A power that the owner has over the blade that the creator doesn’t is the ability to summon it, no matter where it is. There is only four of its kind. The other blades are named Serpent, Flame, and Endeavor, and are owned by Raven my lieutenant, Shrike the top techie, and Rhys the prince of Irideth, respectively. The creator’s name will remain secret, because that’s what they wanted.”

“That’s…”

Before Vath could say what that was, someone else interrupted them.

“Ser Morgan!” a Dragonkin Elf called.