Morrigan unlocked the front door and opened it. She moved toward the kitchen without thought. She motioned to an old dusty couch in the living room, "You should sit. Would you like a drink?"
"Sure," he muttered as she grabbed a bottle of golden liquid standing proud on top of her fridge. To say her apartment was cluttered would be understating the severity of the situation. He was surprised at how easily she navigated through the towers of books and papers littered about the floor and on top of tables. In the far corner of her living room was a desk covered in all manor of strange objects placed haphazardly around a massive, leather bound book.
She appeared from the kitchen with two glasses filled well past the intended point. She handed it to him and the smell of smoke and peat filled the air around them as she sat down beside him. Despite how close she was, she seemed to sit as far from Tyler as the couch would allow. Tyler took a sip, and sneered. The taste was like drinking a campfire.
"Tyler," Morrigan sighed, looking dead ahead as if avoiding his gaze. she stopped and restructured her words carefully. "I don't want to sound rude, right now. Give me a moment."
Tyler nodded, feeling the tension radiate from her, "Take your time."
She took a sip from her glass and held the liquor on her tongue before swallowing, savoring the flavor, "We have a bit of a problem."
"What problem is that?" he asked. She met his sarcastic tone by darting her eyes toward him, grating her teeth. “You did warn me. It's not like this isn't what I signed up for,” he explained.
She smiled then and spoke in a soft, lulling voice, "I'm just thinking."
"I’ve gathered that much.”
"Tyler," she said, "we were outright attacked."
"Yes?" Tyler asked, focusing all his attention on her.
"I thought we had time," she began, her voice beginning to shake. "I don't know what to do. I wasn't prepared."
"You had to prepare me for magic and monsters? Why didn't you just say?"
She groaned, “Would you have believed it?”
"I- well, not until I saw it."
“Well now you have seen it,” She turned to him, "Are you sure you don't want to forget?" Before he could answer, she gave a defeated laugh, "No, that wouldn't work, anyway.”
"I’m afraid to ask,” tyler said. His brow lowered, his words more of a growl than anything else.
She looked hurt for a moment, and Tyler forced his anger back. She gave a weak chuckle, "Those were suits, agents of an organization called Four Seasons. You're marked. Aware of their existence or otherwise, they will still come as you will be made a part of their contract. You attacked one of their own."
"Forget the monsters. I'm more concerned about explanations concerning you."
"Tyler," she pleaded. She paused and shrugged, "I guess that's fair."
"How did you survive that?"
"I'm mortally challenged," she said.
Tyler scoffed, "What?"
"The same accident that led to my blindness led to another condition. I'm roughly 120 years old."
"You're an old woman? That explains a lot."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, Please continue. Tell me everything."
"No. Every detail, every truth in the world I have ever learned revealed nothing, save for new dangers. That is the world you will wake up in tomorrow," she paused, took his hand, and continued, "Don't stay just because you can. Don't make the decision without thought."
“What if I did want to forget?” He asked.
Morrigan failed to hide her disappointment, her head dropping as she frowned, "I can't leave, you're already marked. I'm well past that now. I don't think I’m capable of just leaving you to fend for yourself. Even if you choose to forget, I'm not going anywhere."
“That’s a relief at least,” he said. “Why is it so dangerous just to know you?”
“This knowledge could drive you mad, or worse. You will become a beacon for things far worse than the creatures you just saw. They will seek you out and kill you, or you will seek them out, saving them the trouble." Morrigan groaned again, taking a sip to realize the glass was empty.
Tyler nudged her arm, took her hand and gave her his glass, still half full, "It's an acquired taste. I havn't acquired it."
“Thank you,” she said, “It will be a difficult road. All this is assuming you don't go insa-" She stopped and turned to him. Her mouth opened and closed as if the words caught in her throat before finally being spoken, “Shit, I'm so sorry. How are you getting along? How do you feel.”
“Fine?” he replied, forcing a smile.
“No you are not. I had this happens to me. I was nowhere near fine."
“I mean, I’m not really sure It matters,” Tyler answered “as far as your ‘quandary’ goes, I feel relieved. I feel like I actually saw the real you for a change, and that makes me happy.” He stopped, not wanting to continue.
“Yes?”
“Most of all, I'm fucking scared.”
“Oh,” she replied, elongating the sound with an ominous tone before taking his hand. She made sure their eyes met before speaking and nodded, “You should be.”
"Is there some form of protection I could learn?” he pleaded, “You can do magic, I mean-"
She put a hand out, “let me stop you there,” Her eye twitched as she stifled a quick moment of anger, “never call it magic. I don't wander the new age section at bookstores, nor do I do magic tricks."
"I mean, if it walks like a duck and talks like-" He began with a smile before being cut off.
"Tyler Mitchel Hale," she said with a glare.
"We use a different term to mark a key difference. Calling it magic is either insulting us, or insulting what true magic used to be. What I do is nothing compared to what came before. The Prestige is a joke in comparison.”
“Should be easy to learn then.”
“People like me are made, not taught,” she replied.
"So you have to be born into it?"
"No, you take a rite that opens the way, then study for the rest of your life trying to figure out what it is you can and can't do,” she set the glass down, “watch.”
She pulled out a lighter, produced a flame, and Tyler stared in awe as the flame grew, pulled away, and gathered in her palm. It danced about, forming intricate rings around her hand. The flames were beautiful, elegant, and the way it danced hinted at a complexity he found impossible to follow.
“This,” She began, “ is Arcana Ignis, Pyromancy if you prefer.” She snapped a finger and the flames went out, “but if you give me water,” she hovered her hand over the empty glass, and the water from the melted ice lifted and coated her hand.
Tyler noticed how different it looked. It was rugged, ugly, and lacked any form of complexity to speak of.
“I’m not good at it,” She said, “everyone is different. Everyone gets a different set of skills. I am lucky I can manipulate water at all.”
“What do you think i'd be able to do?” Tyler asked, almost exited.
“The rite would likely kill you. The prestige is not a toy."
"Obviously, I know that,” Tyler replied, “So I could die. I'd be dead either way, right?"
Morrigan sighed and began to rub her forehead with her fingers, "Yes," she whined.
“Why are you worried.” Tyler laughed.
"I don’t really want you to die, thank you very much."
"Well," Tyler began, “that means you have to go through with it.”
"Excuse you?" Morrigan said.
"The rite. How do I do it?"
"No," she said, repeating the word in rapid succession. "You don't just dive in. There’s practice, and..." she trailed off as she stood up. She pulled a small wooden box off the top of a tall bookshelf climbing another box and a tower of books to get to it. She jumped down and sat beside him.
"Be very careful," she said as she e opened the box. Within was a strange mass, a substance that flowed like liquid, but remained perfectly solid. At its core, the black heart shimmered with purple and green tendrils wrapped constantly in flux around it. The mass moved and ebbed around like living stone. "This is a very rare find. The rite calls for the trained mind to bathe in this substance. You cannot be turned, nor can you use your talents without achieving this state."
"So I will eventually bathe in this?" Tyler asked, disgusted.
She shook her head, and reached out, searching for his face. She rested her forehead on his and whispered, “We will begin tomorrow, I have no idea if it’s decided or not but, I suppose you can hope,” She stood, gestured for him to do the same, “Come on, my bed is much softer than yours. Tommorrow is going to be interesting.”
“Why?”
“Your mind is changing. Its being reworked, as we speak,” she replied.
“Is that why I have a headache?” he asked.
“Yes, It will be gone before you know it.”
Gosh. I wish I could do per-line critiques as there is more that I could say. But I shall summarize my thoughts on this chapter.
This tells me so much man, thank you! The typos are really hard to catch/ My spellcheck gets the big one's and editing has made some dialogue a little problematic. ill fix this. Also, YES go for it. Id love to read what you do for nano as well if youre willing to share. I have a feeling the edits are going to take a bit longer as well, so no worries on timing. These last two chapters have revealed the major issues of the story, thus far. I want to address them before moving forward, not to mention the various tweaks needed in previous chapters. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I hope youll allow me to throw your name (or whatever name you prefer) in the acknowledgments. Probably deserving a finished copy as well.