The higher-ups of every organization in the two planets of Arctus and Tempus have gathered together for an emergency discussion. War must be ceased with each other for the time being. The worlds may have to unite under one banner in order to defeat this new foe. The overwhelming presence of the Shadow curse afflicted upon nearly a quarter of the known population of those with globes has called for the largest gathering since the Last Herald, Tormentus’ reign. The worlds are both in danger, and although there may be a way to defeat it, the enemy continues to make that opportunity slimmer and harder to reach. Run short on time, and we-
“Yeah, I get it. I know about th- EVERYONE knows about the shadow dimension at this point. The damn portals are sprouting up everywhere but this damn summit. My question wasn’t about why the summit was being called, Crel, my question was why am I here?”
The xangel sat up on her makeshift bunk in the forest. She and her companion, the white-globed Kin named Crel, has been summoned to take part in the summit. Crel, being the noble guidance character he was, responded with gratitude and determination. The Xangel, on the other hand, was far from content with the summons, as she came reluctantly alongside Crel to the spot of the summit. They had not yet entered, and had not even alerted the soldiers of the monastery that they were there. They were simply camping on the bottom of the mountain, under the cover of one of the snowy forest trees. The bridge was close, mere paces away, but she could not bring herself to enter through it. Not because she didn’t want to take part in the summit; she did. The problem was, she was a criminal. A thief. A pirate of the sky.
The blonde-feathered xangel went by the name of Madame Morgue. Her long, shaggy hair hung slightly over her eyes and down to her shoulders, but no further, and ran in wild directions from there. She wore a heavy black coat and pants to cover her pale skin, and from her waist, a long, light brown dress. Around her neck hung a vibrant red cape with an outstanding collar, and a body that dragged down to her knees, and from behind that cape stood a proud pair of enormous golden wings. The wings were the size of her very body, and her wingspan stood twice her height. But she was not proud of it.
Over her face ran a deep scar, over her left eye. The eye was covered in a black patch that ran underneath her golden hair. Her fanged mouth was raw from nervous chewing. Her feet, sticking out from underneath her dress, were large and webbed like a duck, but in between every web was a large talon half the size of someone’s hand, and significantly more sharp. She wore no shoes, as there were no shoes that would fit her feet. Her arms were slim yet lean with muscle, although feathered on the forearm. Or so, only would her left arm be. In the place of her right, from the elbow down, was a large metal prosthetic. It appeared uncomfortable and awkward, but it moved smoothly and the wrist twisted farther than her natural one. It was not an attack from some monster that removed her arm.
The xangel was rough, bitter, angry, and selfish, as given by her criminal history. Yet, she had received invitation to the Globelore Summit. It had to be a trap. It couldn’t be genuine. Yet Crel, in his eternal wisdom… convinced her to come.
Crel was a simple kin: Uncannily lanky and brittle in his body, but an oversized brain for a head that seemed to cover the span of a foot in width. There was no eye or mouth visible on him, yet he spoke and saw. He wore a large, bulky brown cloak that functioned to keep him warm and make him seem larger than he was, although it failed to do either. And underneath the cloak, seen shining from between the breaks in it around the chest, was a small, white globe that shone brightly. And on Morgue, in the same place, was a red one, one that did not shine. It was dull and void of light, but it was still present.
Crel stood and cleared his throat, catching Morgue’s eye in confusion. He turned to look out their tent flaps at the freezing snow that separated them and the bridge by only a dozen yards. With an echoing sigh, he spoke again, not turning his head to look. He did not need to turn, he could still see her.
“Madame, you, along with everyone else in the summit, have been called to discuss the same issue at hand. The portals are just as much their problem as they are yours and mine. They simply believe that we should all see the problem through level-”
“Don’t start on that, Crel. We’ve been over this. They wouldn’t have invited some low-life pirate to come talk about saving the worlds.” She crossed her arm with her metal one, falling back into her cot. “It’s not real. It’s a trap, set for me. It just can’t be real.”
“You would never find out if you did not see. And it is not a trap. Everyone here knows about you, and-”
“What do you mean, they ‘know about me’?”
“I mean to say they know you are a criminal. A damned one, at that. They know of your murders and grand theft, yet they chose to invite you for other reasons. You are not here to be arrested.”
“How do you know that? I’m pretty positive I know what I’m walking into, and I don’t want to walk into it. You go in there, but I’m staying right here. Not going inside.”
“Madame, the summit is not until tomorrow. The only thing inside would be warm shelter, delicious food, a comfortable place to sleep-”
“You’re not roping me into this, Crel.”
“Fine. The loss is yours, not mine.” And with that, the kin threw back the flaps of the tent and started for the bridge. Morgue shivered as the cold wind blew in through the open flaps for just a moment, until they fell back down as Crel left through them.
She did not move from where she was for quite some time. The sun had been set for about an hour when she couldn’t take the cold. She pulled her cape around her and pushed out of the tent, into the worser cold. Through her single eye, she could see Tempus floating just above her, filling most of the sky. The temperate planet seemed impossible, given how just next to it orbited a winter planet. The climates were strange.
The Xangel looked ahead and saw the bridge, still valiantly glowing with power. The bridge was shaped like a pedestal, with stairs that led up to it, and a gateway at the other side, inside of which a pillar of blue light shone upwards. She approached, walking up to the glowing blue light, and hesitantly walked inside, disappearing into it.
For a moment, all she saw was blue, but then she was normal again, this time standing in the middle of the bridge. However, it was not the same bridge, and she was now facing an enormous chapel building. Globefort Cathedral.
There were no guards protecting the outside of the doors; it was far too cold. They all sat inside, holding their post from the inside. With so many leaders of so many races, tribes, religions, and nations, there was bound to be conflict. So the cathedral was heavily guarded by guildless soldiers who took no sides. They were not hesitant to strike and kill.
Morgue shivered and spread her enormous gold wings. She’d enter another way. With a grand downward flap, she was thrown into the sky, still chittering with the freezing wind.
She spent about thirty minutes circling the cathedral, spying through every window of every bedroom. Soon, she noticed the pink-brained figure that was Crel, sleeping soundly in his bed about three floors up. She turned mid-flight and shot towards the window, landing against the wall with a small thump. She tugged at the window for a short time, having no success, and was about to cut her way in with weaponry when Crel suddenly unlocked the latch and the panes flew open. Morgue panicked for a moment before smiling and diving inside, rolling into a shivering, freezing ball on the carpet when she did. Crel, with draining patience, sighed and closed the window, cutting off the cold.
“...If you wanted to come in, you could have knocked instead of tugging at my window like a thief or assassin who wanted my head. I nearly blasted you right off the side of the mountain.”
“Oh c-come on, buddy. I a-am a thief. And i-if I w-wanted your head, I’d h-have cut a p-piece off by n-now.”
“...Come on, I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”
About fifteen minutes later, Morgue was settled and warmer than she was in her tent, which was all she could be thankful for. After Crel lit the fireplace with a burst of fire magic, he made his mind to retire back to his bed for the night. Morgue sat where she was for a short moment before standing and padding over to Crel as he lay in silence. Before she could say anything, he spoke.
“No, I’m not bailing you out. You are here now, you can at least stay for the rest of the procedure-”
“Dammit, Crel, I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you. I’m out of here. I’m not sticking around. I’ll meet you in the Capital after the summit, alright? Tell me how it goes.” She started for the window.
“You are going to flee from what is possibly your one chance to clear your name? Do some good for both worlds, and you may have all charges dropped against you.”
Morgue stopped at the window, turning back to face the kin as he lay in his bed.
“Not everyone’s going to feel that way, Crel. Have you seen those guys? I STOLE from a lot of them. I doubt they’d be willing to drop any charges at all, much less pass up on a chance to lock me in the 100-door prison- or worse, have me executed! I’m not dumb! I’m not going to risk it!”
And with that, she turned to the window and threw open the latch. As she was about to leap out, she heard rustling from behind her. When she turned to look, Crel was standing, cloak on, shoes fit. He was approaching her.
“You are not stupid at all. You never were. But you are paranoid. However, if you simply refuse to stay here for the summit, then I suppose I shan’t either.” Morgue looked at him.
“You can’t leave with me, brainiac. You’ve actually got someone to represent, people to stand up for! You’ve got a voice, I don’t! Sometimes I wonder who’s really the smart one…”
The kin laid a hand on her shoulder.
“If you are leaving, then so am I. That is the end of the discussion.” He said with vigilance. Morgue let out a heavy sigh.
“...Fine. But be sure you can hold on tight. I’m not leaving through the doors.”
“I know.”
And so he grabbed both of her shoulders as she took a bounding leap out the window. If the kin had a mouth, he’d be screaming.
They were gliding through the air on her enormous wings, descending slowly down the side of the mountain. Morgue always enjoyed being able to fly, but Crel, being as frail as kin would be, wasn’t exactly the biggest fan. He clung tightly to Morgue’s cape, the only thing separating him and falling to his death. Morgue noticed this, grinning.
“Oh, come on. You’re not afraid of a little rough wind, are you?”
“Madame Morgue, if you have any sense left in your mind, I would make it very clear to you that it is in your best interest to please don’t drop me.”
“I’m kidding ya, fungus head. Don’t get worked up. Here, I’ll land in the forest. The one without snow.”
Pretty soon, they were out of the snowing fields and into the thicker, slightly warmer, leafy treetops of the Arctus Woodlands. The xangel began to glide downwards, taking a soft landing in a small, barely opened clearing in the trees. The kin, however, continued to hang on tightly.
“...Crel, we’re on the ground.”
“Give me several seconds to accept that I am not dead, first.”
Soon, they were sitting, beside a campfire that, again, Crel had lit. Morgue was laying down, staring at the sky and the enormous figure that was the planet Tempus. She lay in near silence, her only sound her breathing, which even then seemed slightly strained. Crel, meanwhile, sat up, looking directly at the fire. He was thinking, but at the same time, watching Morgue, the surroundings, and the sky.
“...I do not suppose you have some other reason for leaving, madame…” he said suddenly, shattering the silence of the crackling fire, calling birds, and chirping insects. The xangel looked up, giving him a confused look.
“Oh, come on, brainiac. Guess.”
“I do not read minds. Just because I have a large brain does not mean I know what others are thinking.”
“I miss the days you were fun, Crel.”
“By your definition, I was never fun.”
“Touche.. Look, brainiac. You know what you represent. When you went there to talk in that summit, you went as the race of Kin as a whole. Everything you would say would be said for the sake of all Kin. The xangels have their own representative. I’m not part of this because I’m a shining example, Crel. They invited me for some other reason, and I can’t fathom why they would unless it was to trap me.”
“...You realize I didn’t come as a representative, Morgue.”
“...You didn’t? Then why did you come?”
“The Summit called me because I am the current living professional of light magic. I have lived it my whole life, and taught it to countless others. I have fought the shadow beings since they began to appear. I know everything about them that we have figured out through experience. If there is anything that must be said about them, I may be able to say it. That is why I came. Not to represent my kind. Wherever did you get that idea?”
Morgue lay in silence again, not responding to Crel. After a moment, the Kin spoke again.
“...You wanted to represent someone, didn’t you.” Morgue sat up in surprise.
“Wh- No! Who would I represent? Pirate crews? Bandit gangs? What kind of say would we have on the matter? We’re outlaws!”
“That is the point of the summit, Morgue. To unite all people of BOTH worlds, no matter their vocation or relation with each other, to finally reject these shadow beings. Everyone has lost so many to them, whether they be a baraqu, mora, kin, xangel, human or even a maylen. Everyone has fallen victim to them. That is why the highest leaders of every city, state, nation, guild, gang, crew, and more has called the Globelore Summit. We wanted to represent everyone.”
“...We?”
“Yes, I also gave my approval for the summit. I was one of the defining votes.”
“...This is why you should have stayed there, Crel. You’re more important than I am.”
“Nobody at that table tomorrow will be more important than the other. Every person of every race will be equally represented until we have completed our duty. The threat of shadow creatures is not one to be taken lightly. We must unite and stand, or divide and be conquered.”
The xangel again did not respond. She had nothing to say. Not yet.
“...Perhaps you should get some rest, Morgue. You should not stay up later than necessary.”
Then she sat up.
“Actually, Crel, I’m thinking of something different. I’m kind of antsy right now.”
“...If you promise to let me sleep when you are finished, fine. We may go hunting.” Morgue smiled.
“See? You do read minds.”
The two spent several minutes walking through the forest, quietly. The xangel stepped along, loosely holding both a pistol and an elegant scimitar that both seemed to materialize from inside her cape. Crel carried nothing. Morgue soon broke the quiet with a question.
“...So, what should we be looking for?”
“I do not know, Morgue. This was your idea.”
“You suggested it, technically.”
“Morgue, we have been over this. I do not read minds, you are just predictable. You so very often want to do the same thing to quell the same kind of boredom.”
“Oh really? It’s not my fault I have a craving for action sometimes.”
“Yes, it is your fault. It is not anyone else’s.”
“Oh, shut your trap.”
“I do not have one.”
“Well, however you do your dumb speaky thing, clam it.”
“You are the one raising your voice…”
“Just... just shut up.”
They spent several hours searching, finding nothing to prey upon. Soon, Morgue had collapsed on a log to rest for a moment. Crel knelt beside her.
“...I sense there’s more to this rejection.”
“Rejection of what.”
“The invitation.”
“We’re not going over this again, Crel. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I don’t-”
“Want representation, yes, we talked about that, but I sense it is not representation you seek.”
“...”
“You seek a sense of belonging.”
“Ok, that’s enough. Cut it out.”
“Priscilla, be honest with me as I have been with you-” Morgue was already on her feet, pointing her pistol at the Kin’s bulbous brain.
“I told you not to call me that, not to ever say that around me again. I’m not Priscilla, I’m Madame Morgue. Fallen Angel. Pirate. Not that ignorant bitch.”
“...I was not insulting you. I was calling you what you are.” said the kin, quiet and patient. He had no reaction to the pistol pointed at him. He knew her better than she took him credit for. Morgue primed the pistol for fire.
“And I told you, that is NOT who I are- am. Not who I am. Don’t ever call me that again.”
“How can you be so sure you are something you were not supposed to be?”
“Dammit- Crel, I’m not-”
“I am not kidding you either.”
“Crel, I’m warning you-”
“And I’m warning you. You continue to flee from your past-”
“I am not running away from my past, I let it go! I-”
“Obviously not, if you refuse to let me call you Priscilla”
“I’m NOT Priscil-”
“Yes, you are. Because that is who you were when I met you, and I refuse to believe you are not the same.”
“Yeah, well, things change! And so did I!”
“You can’t change who you are just to escape-”
“I am NOT escaping! I just-”
“Then prove it, Priscilla-”
“YOU WANT ME TO PROVE IT?! I’LL PROVE IT!” And she whirled on her heels and let the pistol fire. Instead of a bullet flying from the barrel, and mixed whirlwind of elements, a twister of fire, water, earth, wind, ice, lightning, light, and darkness all flooded from the end of the pistol. Morgue screamed as the blast wore itself out, leaving nothing but a tide of total destruction in its wake. She was left panting, staring at the carnage the pistol had wrought. Crel watched in silence.
“...There. See? Does that LOOK like the power of a coward? Does it?!” Morgue demanded, pointing at the wreckage with her scimitar in her metal hand. Crel shook his head slowly.
“...It looks like the power of someone who has lost control. Anger built up inside for so long that you decide to loose all at once. Anger, perhaps, that could have been used for greater purposes…”
“Oh, shut the fuck up. Who are you to judge what I do with my gun.”
“Not the gun, you. That pistol did not do that on its own. You had that anger hiding somewhere for other reasons, not your frustration with me.”
Morgue was sitting down, now. She stared forward at what used to be the forest, now turned to rubble. Head held in metal hand, she sat in silence.
“...Morgue..”
“Stupid things, Crel. Stupid, damned idiotic things. I was younger then, Crel. I was hardly a cyan globe. Look at me now. Red globe. Times have changed.”
She fell backwards, lying down once again.
“I thought that since the world had forgotten what happened, I would do. It isn’t my fault Richard went fucking insane because of the shadow curse. It isn’t my fault William had to get caught up in this. I just wanted to let go, but he was so damn persistent…”
She held up her prosthetic arm. The metal shone in the moonlight as the hand joint whirred almost silently.
“...I knew I had to cut it off with Richard if I wanted to move on. I didn’t mean for it to become literal. And the last thing I wanted was for William to end up in the middle of this. I send him checks every now and then, you know? Some of the spoils I steal. Enough to keep the poor guy afloat. And to let him know I still care about him.”
“...So what does this have to do with you and the summit?”
“I… hoped I wouldn’t be brought into the great big world again. I wanted to distance from it. Only get involved when it had something that I wanted.. But then it sends me a letter, saying it needs me to help save the worlds of Globelore.”
There was a parting of silence for a moment before Crel stood suddenly, silent. Morgue leaned her head to look at him.
“It’s ok, you can go-”
“Shh.” He hushed, harshly. Morgue felt appalled.
“Wha- Excuse m-”
“Something is coming. Many somethings.”
And right on call, a loud crash through the brush and rubble that Morgue had carved with her pistol. A swarm of black clouds, hissing and rushing forward. A pair of white eyes shone from every whirling cloud. Crel brought his hands up, opening them and placing them together. They began to glow.
“Varujo.”
The devilish creatures that had been commonly mistaken as shadow elementals were inhabitants of the shadow dimension, the one that had been progressively leaking into the worlds of Globelore, both Tempus and Arctus. They acted as clever mongrels, packing together and surrounding their prey when in groups, and ambushing when hunting alone. They preyed on those with globes, orbs that users would have embedded into their chest that acted as catalysts for magic. Extensions of one’s soul that allowed them greater power physically, mentally, and magically. Varujo would taint these globes, infecting them and their user with life-sucking energy of darkness, draining them of their features and turning them into mindless zombies, bent on spreading the curse further. And now came a fresh pack of them towards both Crel and Morgue.
Morgue stood and lept into the sky, pointing her pistol and letting loose several small, weak beams of light. Though they were weak, the varujo they hit were sent tumbling to the ground, crumbling to dust and disappearing into the stampede. They neared Crel, who was waiting in silence. When they finally reached him, many of them began to circle outwards, some leaping directly towards him, when he unleashed a searing bright light from his palms. The light shone through the forest, catching many of the varujo and sending them to the same fate as those shot by Morgue’s elemental pistol. Those that survived had through hiding in the bushes and fallen trees. When the blast was complete, the survivors swarmed out and began to chase after Crel, who had begun to spin balls of light around his hands in preparation.
Morgue, above him, spun in a tight circle and sent a beam streaking across the ground in front of Crel. This caught only two of the remaining twelve, and the other then split into groups of five to divide and conquer, as they had been since they began invading Globelore. Five lept for Morgue, five for Crel, the latter of which let the balls of light explode in different directions, sending three into hiding, while an unfortunate two were disintegrated.
Morgue had been caught on the wing by one of them and fallen to the ground, but had used her pistol to scare off those that got too close to her globe. With a roll, she flipped back up onto her feet and brandished a new weapon: a twisted, yellow, claw-shaped sword that seemed to glow in the darkness. The five varujo that pursued her suddenly backed up in surprise, noticing the weapon’s capabilities, but they were not deterred for long. They split again and dove for her at two sides. Spinning in a tight circle, she flung the claw-shaped sword at one Varujo, while sweeping a beam at another group. The beam backed some of the varujo away, while the sword collided with the other, seemingly sticking in the misty creature as it solidified and dissipated. Morgue leapt forward, grabbing the sword before the solidified varujo fell apart, ripping it out. The varujo’s solid form crumbled like dry sand, and she flipped forward and slammed the sword into the varujo behind the previous one, destroying that one too. With a final violent turn, she swung the sword in a wide arc, sending a flash of scorching light in the direction of the remaining varujo that pursued her.
When she turned to help Crel, she saw that he had already finished off the remains of the attackers. He was watching her in dumbfounded silence. When she stared back, Crel began to panic and cheer at the same time.
“Madame, you cannot be serious- the Light Claw? THE Light Claw? One of, if not THE most powerful weapon against the shadow creatures?! How long have you had this?!” Crel blurted, flustered. Morgue looked at it, shrugging.
“I just… found it. Tempus desert. You know? Westlands? With the-”
“Yes, I KNOW about the desert, the baraqu, all that. How did you GET THIS?!”
“I found it. Hidden in the remains of that old arena. All deep underground it. There’s a tunnel system under there, you know?”
“You realize this weapon could very well be the solution to all our problems? A simple swing from this weapon can close a portal- one of which could very well be nearby, given that swarm of varujo! You cannot keep this a secret from the Summit-”
“Crel, I can’t go in there now! We’re probably late, the sun is already rising, and I’m not about to barge in there and get myself killed over a misunderstanding! We aren’t going back.”
“You cannot be serious. You would jeopardize the fate of the world over your selfishness?”
“I’m not being selfish, ok? It’s not selfishness, I’m trying to-”
“Save your own skin because you’re too terrified to fess up that you stole it.”
“I did not steal-”
“Yes, you did. I know you did. The baraqu leaders who planned the summit with me very distinctly said they had the Light Claw, but that some desert bandit had stolen it. We were preparing for the worst.”
Morgue looked at the elegant, glowing sword. She couldn’t tell what she wanted to do anymore. Crel stepped forward.
“You need to bring this in. Tell them the truth or tell them lies, you need to do it.”
“I can’t do it-”
“Yes, you CAN, Priscilla. You know very well-” And the gun was out again.
“Call me that again, braindead! I thought I made it VERY clear-”
“That your temper cannot be controlled! You are in possession of a weapon-”
“A weapon that belongs to me, alright!? One that I found, and I’m going to use to stop the varujo however I want to use it!”
“You really have changed, Priscilla. You were always selfish, but you were never savage.”
“I’ll show you savage, you-”
“Give me the sword, Priscilla-”
“Back up! I’m not giving you-”
“You cannot be trusted to keep this.”
“You can’t be trusted to keep your yap shut about me in the Summit, so why don’t we all just get out of here!”
“I will not let you jeopardize the worlds of Globelore because you cannot make one lousy appearance in the Summit!”
“Let’s GO, Crel!”
“I will not leave without the Light Claw-”
“You will leave, and you’re going with me!”
“Give me the-” The gun was primed.
“I’m warning you, Crel!”
“-Light Claw!”
“DAMN YOU!” And the sound of a loud BOOM cut off the sound of both of their voices.
The called leaders, representatives, and other invited guests had taken their seats long ago. Many of the more esteemed leaders insisted they wait for the arrival of a particular Kin. The wait had gone on too long. Many supposed he had second thoughts. Some thought he was dead, but others believed he was too powerful for that. So the summit began. Discussions back and forth began about the trouble of the portals opening, and the spreading cancer that was the shadow curse. There were reports of new portals, and closed portals. Discussions went on about what should be done about the threat. When they were finally interrupted by a guard proclaiming they had a visitor who was apparently invited, amazingly late, and had a red globe. They showed her in.
Morgue entered the summit hall with her wings hanging low, dragging behind her. Her hair hung over her eyes as she approached. She held one thing in her hands, and she covered it so that no one would yet know. When she finally reached the table, surrounded by mora, baraqu, other xangels, humans, even volkots, lyrians, and more, she did not sit. The room was dead silent. When she rose her head, her single eye was bloodshot and tearful. Many who despised her nearly chuckled, but others stared in silence. Others knew what happened already. Morgue was a close friend of Crel. Most knew this. When she finally opened her hands, it was made clear.
The unscathed, shining white globe of Crel sat in her trembling hands.
The summit hall erupted with chatter and mournful callings. Many people there did not even know who Crel was, but to many others more he was well-known for saving people’s lives, curing people of their curse, teaching protective light magic, negotiating peace, and more. When the hall was once again quiet, Morgue felt the need to speak again.
She talked about the argument the day prior, about whether or not she should have come. She described their time in the forest, and the attack against the varujo. But when time came, she sucked her breath and gave the explanation. A bandit a shot him.
A band of air pirates, many who once sided with her, had thought her a traitor to them by accepting the invitation. They attacked her and Crel when they had decided to go back to camp, ambushing them. During the fight, one of the scoundrels shot Crel in the head. She did not say which. The frail Kin never stood a chance against the shot. She told the summit she had killed the rest, throwing their bodies in the river in an act of disrespect, when she discovered one of them had a glowing sword on their back. She fished it out of the water and inspected it, identifying it as the very same Light Claw the baraqu leaders said was stolen. She mentioned Crel had told her about the stolen Light Claw. She drew it and placed it on the table, and the baraqu agreed. It was the Light Claw. She concluded by saying that she used the Light Claw to seal the portal that the varujo swarm had spilled from. It was dangerously close to the Cathedral.
The Summit continued its discussion, albeit shaken by the news. Decisions were made, but Morgue had retreated to a room to sulk.
When she awoke the next day, it was to one of the monks of the cathedral. A well-dressed Kin with a much smaller brain than Crel. He wore a suit and spoke politely, but with less distinct linguistics than Crel had.
“You had a rough night. I can see why. I apologize for what happened to your friend.” he said to Morgue, solemnly. Morgue sat up in bed, shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and more. She didn’t know what.
“I apologize for waking you, miss. But you received a letter addressed to you. I left it on the table beside you. Read it when you feel ready to. There’s no rush.” Sure enough, there was the letter. The top read ‘From William’.
The fine-dressed kin turned to leave, stopping part-way out the door.
“...We all make mistakes. One can only apologize, and hope for forgiveness.” Morgue sat up in slight panic, staring at the kin. The kin turned his head slightly, showing that he was listening.
“I’m sure Crel would have forgiven you long ago. Why don’t you ask him? It is forbidden, but they will never know.”
And with that, the kin stepped out.
Morgue stared at the glowing white globe that sat beside the letter. She was still trembling. With a shaky hand, she reached to her own globe that sat in her chest. Grasping it firmly, she pulled it out. It resisted, but came out smoothly. She placed the red globe on the bed beside her as she reached for the white globe. Breathing heavily, she brought it to her chest, and it clicked into place. For a moment, she didn’t feel like herself. She felt different. Older, wiser, calmer, smarter. Experienced, kind.
Then she was herself again. And she felt content.
She did not pull the white globe out of her chest again. She simply covered it with her cape and stood, picking up her previous globe and putting it into her cape. It disappeared into the inside of the red cape like it was a magic mirror. She took a step forward, passing the letter. She hadn’t read it yet.
The sun had moved few degrees when she finished reading the letter. Her life felt like it was turned upside down. She was wearing Crel’s globe. She was reading a letter from William. She had just shown her face to everyone in the summit. Nothing seemed to be going her way. Until the well-dressed kin again stepped inside, followed by a mora.
The mora was colored deep blue in skin tone, and wore a white blindfold over her eyes. She stood in silence with her hands behind her back, as the kin cleared his throat to addressed Morgue.
“Madame, This is Kali. She would like to invite you to something.” Kali stepped forward.
“We know you’ve had some… unsteady times... recently, but I have an offer for you. You are not experienced with light magic, but you have an elemental pistol and you did find the Light Claw. The Baraqu leaders are considering allowing you to keep it for the time being, considering you accept the offer.” Morgue looked at her, weakly.
“What kind of offer?”
“The summit wasn’t gathered just to talk, Madame.” said the Kin. “This was to discuss matters to combat the shadow dimension, then act on them. We’ve decided to compile some of our best fighters from every race, religion, vocation, whatever, to be an elite team that serves only the world. We’ll have them sent out to close portals and eliminate the threat of varujo. We were hoping, if you would consider it, that you would be part of it. We have a couple hundred, but we need every hand we can get.”
About half an hour later, the deal was set. There was payment to be had, as well as fame and glory. But Morgue wasn’t sure if she wanted those anymore. She felt compelled, however, at a strange moment, to accept, so she did. When Kali had left, she felt like herself again. The Kin nodded at her.
“I see you two have made up. I wish you all the luck you can get.” And he left.
Morgue stood and patted down her dress. She looked at the letter one last time, and turned to step out the door.
“Don’t worry, kiddo.”
She let the letter fall to the floor. The heading read ‘Dear Mother, wherever you are, you’re invited to my wed-’ and she shot the paper with a small ball of fire from her pistol after quickly checking to see if anyone else noticed what the letter said.
“I’ll be there. And I’ll bring you something better than gold.”
“I’ll bring you the worlds. And I'll personally make them safe.”
"It's what Crel would have wanted."
It is indeed what I would have wanted, Priscilla. I'll be with you all the way.
“Yeah, I get it. I know about th- EVERYONE knows about the shadow dimension at this point. The damn portals are sprouting up everywhere but this damn summit. My question wasn’t about why the summit was being called, Crel, my question was why am I here?”
The xangel sat up on her makeshift bunk in the forest. She and her companion, the white-globed Kin named Crel, has been summoned to take part in the summit. Crel, being the noble guidance character he was, responded with gratitude and determination. The Xangel, on the other hand, was far from content with the summons, as she came reluctantly alongside Crel to the spot of the summit. They had not yet entered, and had not even alerted the soldiers of the monastery that they were there. They were simply camping on the bottom of the mountain, under the cover of one of the snowy forest trees. The bridge was close, mere paces away, but she could not bring herself to enter through it. Not because she didn’t want to take part in the summit; she did. The problem was, she was a criminal. A thief. A pirate of the sky.
The blonde-feathered xangel went by the name of Madame Morgue. Her long, shaggy hair hung slightly over her eyes and down to her shoulders, but no further, and ran in wild directions from there. She wore a heavy black coat and pants to cover her pale skin, and from her waist, a long, light brown dress. Around her neck hung a vibrant red cape with an outstanding collar, and a body that dragged down to her knees, and from behind that cape stood a proud pair of enormous golden wings. The wings were the size of her very body, and her wingspan stood twice her height. But she was not proud of it.
Over her face ran a deep scar, over her left eye. The eye was covered in a black patch that ran underneath her golden hair. Her fanged mouth was raw from nervous chewing. Her feet, sticking out from underneath her dress, were large and webbed like a duck, but in between every web was a large talon half the size of someone’s hand, and significantly more sharp. She wore no shoes, as there were no shoes that would fit her feet. Her arms were slim yet lean with muscle, although feathered on the forearm. Or so, only would her left arm be. In the place of her right, from the elbow down, was a large metal prosthetic. It appeared uncomfortable and awkward, but it moved smoothly and the wrist twisted farther than her natural one. It was not an attack from some monster that removed her arm.
The xangel was rough, bitter, angry, and selfish, as given by her criminal history. Yet, she had received invitation to the Globelore Summit. It had to be a trap. It couldn’t be genuine. Yet Crel, in his eternal wisdom… convinced her to come.
Crel was a simple kin: Uncannily lanky and brittle in his body, but an oversized brain for a head that seemed to cover the span of a foot in width. There was no eye or mouth visible on him, yet he spoke and saw. He wore a large, bulky brown cloak that functioned to keep him warm and make him seem larger than he was, although it failed to do either. And underneath the cloak, seen shining from between the breaks in it around the chest, was a small, white globe that shone brightly. And on Morgue, in the same place, was a red one, one that did not shine. It was dull and void of light, but it was still present.
Crel stood and cleared his throat, catching Morgue’s eye in confusion. He turned to look out their tent flaps at the freezing snow that separated them and the bridge by only a dozen yards. With an echoing sigh, he spoke again, not turning his head to look. He did not need to turn, he could still see her.
“Madame, you, along with everyone else in the summit, have been called to discuss the same issue at hand. The portals are just as much their problem as they are yours and mine. They simply believe that we should all see the problem through level-”
“Don’t start on that, Crel. We’ve been over this. They wouldn’t have invited some low-life pirate to come talk about saving the worlds.” She crossed her arm with her metal one, falling back into her cot. “It’s not real. It’s a trap, set for me. It just can’t be real.”
“You would never find out if you did not see. And it is not a trap. Everyone here knows about you, and-”
“What do you mean, they ‘know about me’?”
“I mean to say they know you are a criminal. A damned one, at that. They know of your murders and grand theft, yet they chose to invite you for other reasons. You are not here to be arrested.”
“How do you know that? I’m pretty positive I know what I’m walking into, and I don’t want to walk into it. You go in there, but I’m staying right here. Not going inside.”
“Madame, the summit is not until tomorrow. The only thing inside would be warm shelter, delicious food, a comfortable place to sleep-”
“You’re not roping me into this, Crel.”
“Fine. The loss is yours, not mine.” And with that, the kin threw back the flaps of the tent and started for the bridge. Morgue shivered as the cold wind blew in through the open flaps for just a moment, until they fell back down as Crel left through them.
She did not move from where she was for quite some time. The sun had been set for about an hour when she couldn’t take the cold. She pulled her cape around her and pushed out of the tent, into the worser cold. Through her single eye, she could see Tempus floating just above her, filling most of the sky. The temperate planet seemed impossible, given how just next to it orbited a winter planet. The climates were strange.
The Xangel looked ahead and saw the bridge, still valiantly glowing with power. The bridge was shaped like a pedestal, with stairs that led up to it, and a gateway at the other side, inside of which a pillar of blue light shone upwards. She approached, walking up to the glowing blue light, and hesitantly walked inside, disappearing into it.
For a moment, all she saw was blue, but then she was normal again, this time standing in the middle of the bridge. However, it was not the same bridge, and she was now facing an enormous chapel building. Globefort Cathedral.
There were no guards protecting the outside of the doors; it was far too cold. They all sat inside, holding their post from the inside. With so many leaders of so many races, tribes, religions, and nations, there was bound to be conflict. So the cathedral was heavily guarded by guildless soldiers who took no sides. They were not hesitant to strike and kill.
Morgue shivered and spread her enormous gold wings. She’d enter another way. With a grand downward flap, she was thrown into the sky, still chittering with the freezing wind.
She spent about thirty minutes circling the cathedral, spying through every window of every bedroom. Soon, she noticed the pink-brained figure that was Crel, sleeping soundly in his bed about three floors up. She turned mid-flight and shot towards the window, landing against the wall with a small thump. She tugged at the window for a short time, having no success, and was about to cut her way in with weaponry when Crel suddenly unlocked the latch and the panes flew open. Morgue panicked for a moment before smiling and diving inside, rolling into a shivering, freezing ball on the carpet when she did. Crel, with draining patience, sighed and closed the window, cutting off the cold.
“...If you wanted to come in, you could have knocked instead of tugging at my window like a thief or assassin who wanted my head. I nearly blasted you right off the side of the mountain.”
“Oh c-come on, buddy. I a-am a thief. And i-if I w-wanted your head, I’d h-have cut a p-piece off by n-now.”
“...Come on, I’ll start a fire in the fireplace.”
About fifteen minutes later, Morgue was settled and warmer than she was in her tent, which was all she could be thankful for. After Crel lit the fireplace with a burst of fire magic, he made his mind to retire back to his bed for the night. Morgue sat where she was for a short moment before standing and padding over to Crel as he lay in silence. Before she could say anything, he spoke.
“No, I’m not bailing you out. You are here now, you can at least stay for the rest of the procedure-”
“Dammit, Crel, I wasn’t asking you, I was telling you. I’m out of here. I’m not sticking around. I’ll meet you in the Capital after the summit, alright? Tell me how it goes.” She started for the window.
“You are going to flee from what is possibly your one chance to clear your name? Do some good for both worlds, and you may have all charges dropped against you.”
Morgue stopped at the window, turning back to face the kin as he lay in his bed.
“Not everyone’s going to feel that way, Crel. Have you seen those guys? I STOLE from a lot of them. I doubt they’d be willing to drop any charges at all, much less pass up on a chance to lock me in the 100-door prison- or worse, have me executed! I’m not dumb! I’m not going to risk it!”
And with that, she turned to the window and threw open the latch. As she was about to leap out, she heard rustling from behind her. When she turned to look, Crel was standing, cloak on, shoes fit. He was approaching her.
“You are not stupid at all. You never were. But you are paranoid. However, if you simply refuse to stay here for the summit, then I suppose I shan’t either.” Morgue looked at him.
“You can’t leave with me, brainiac. You’ve actually got someone to represent, people to stand up for! You’ve got a voice, I don’t! Sometimes I wonder who’s really the smart one…”
The kin laid a hand on her shoulder.
“If you are leaving, then so am I. That is the end of the discussion.” He said with vigilance. Morgue let out a heavy sigh.
“...Fine. But be sure you can hold on tight. I’m not leaving through the doors.”
“I know.”
And so he grabbed both of her shoulders as she took a bounding leap out the window. If the kin had a mouth, he’d be screaming.
They were gliding through the air on her enormous wings, descending slowly down the side of the mountain. Morgue always enjoyed being able to fly, but Crel, being as frail as kin would be, wasn’t exactly the biggest fan. He clung tightly to Morgue’s cape, the only thing separating him and falling to his death. Morgue noticed this, grinning.
“Oh, come on. You’re not afraid of a little rough wind, are you?”
“Madame Morgue, if you have any sense left in your mind, I would make it very clear to you that it is in your best interest to please don’t drop me.”
“I’m kidding ya, fungus head. Don’t get worked up. Here, I’ll land in the forest. The one without snow.”
Pretty soon, they were out of the snowing fields and into the thicker, slightly warmer, leafy treetops of the Arctus Woodlands. The xangel began to glide downwards, taking a soft landing in a small, barely opened clearing in the trees. The kin, however, continued to hang on tightly.
“...Crel, we’re on the ground.”
“Give me several seconds to accept that I am not dead, first.”
Soon, they were sitting, beside a campfire that, again, Crel had lit. Morgue was laying down, staring at the sky and the enormous figure that was the planet Tempus. She lay in near silence, her only sound her breathing, which even then seemed slightly strained. Crel, meanwhile, sat up, looking directly at the fire. He was thinking, but at the same time, watching Morgue, the surroundings, and the sky.
“...I do not suppose you have some other reason for leaving, madame…” he said suddenly, shattering the silence of the crackling fire, calling birds, and chirping insects. The xangel looked up, giving him a confused look.
“Oh, come on, brainiac. Guess.”
“I do not read minds. Just because I have a large brain does not mean I know what others are thinking.”
“I miss the days you were fun, Crel.”
“By your definition, I was never fun.”
“Touche.. Look, brainiac. You know what you represent. When you went there to talk in that summit, you went as the race of Kin as a whole. Everything you would say would be said for the sake of all Kin. The xangels have their own representative. I’m not part of this because I’m a shining example, Crel. They invited me for some other reason, and I can’t fathom why they would unless it was to trap me.”
“...You realize I didn’t come as a representative, Morgue.”
“...You didn’t? Then why did you come?”
“The Summit called me because I am the current living professional of light magic. I have lived it my whole life, and taught it to countless others. I have fought the shadow beings since they began to appear. I know everything about them that we have figured out through experience. If there is anything that must be said about them, I may be able to say it. That is why I came. Not to represent my kind. Wherever did you get that idea?”
Morgue lay in silence again, not responding to Crel. After a moment, the Kin spoke again.
“...You wanted to represent someone, didn’t you.” Morgue sat up in surprise.
“Wh- No! Who would I represent? Pirate crews? Bandit gangs? What kind of say would we have on the matter? We’re outlaws!”
“That is the point of the summit, Morgue. To unite all people of BOTH worlds, no matter their vocation or relation with each other, to finally reject these shadow beings. Everyone has lost so many to them, whether they be a baraqu, mora, kin, xangel, human or even a maylen. Everyone has fallen victim to them. That is why the highest leaders of every city, state, nation, guild, gang, crew, and more has called the Globelore Summit. We wanted to represent everyone.”
“...We?”
“Yes, I also gave my approval for the summit. I was one of the defining votes.”
“...This is why you should have stayed there, Crel. You’re more important than I am.”
“Nobody at that table tomorrow will be more important than the other. Every person of every race will be equally represented until we have completed our duty. The threat of shadow creatures is not one to be taken lightly. We must unite and stand, or divide and be conquered.”
The xangel again did not respond. She had nothing to say. Not yet.
“...Perhaps you should get some rest, Morgue. You should not stay up later than necessary.”
Then she sat up.
“Actually, Crel, I’m thinking of something different. I’m kind of antsy right now.”
“...If you promise to let me sleep when you are finished, fine. We may go hunting.” Morgue smiled.
“See? You do read minds.”
The two spent several minutes walking through the forest, quietly. The xangel stepped along, loosely holding both a pistol and an elegant scimitar that both seemed to materialize from inside her cape. Crel carried nothing. Morgue soon broke the quiet with a question.
“...So, what should we be looking for?”
“I do not know, Morgue. This was your idea.”
“You suggested it, technically.”
“Morgue, we have been over this. I do not read minds, you are just predictable. You so very often want to do the same thing to quell the same kind of boredom.”
“Oh really? It’s not my fault I have a craving for action sometimes.”
“Yes, it is your fault. It is not anyone else’s.”
“Oh, shut your trap.”
“I do not have one.”
“Well, however you do your dumb speaky thing, clam it.”
“You are the one raising your voice…”
“Just... just shut up.”
They spent several hours searching, finding nothing to prey upon. Soon, Morgue had collapsed on a log to rest for a moment. Crel knelt beside her.
“...I sense there’s more to this rejection.”
“Rejection of what.”
“The invitation.”
“We’re not going over this again, Crel. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I don’t-”
“Want representation, yes, we talked about that, but I sense it is not representation you seek.”
“...”
“You seek a sense of belonging.”
“Ok, that’s enough. Cut it out.”
“Priscilla, be honest with me as I have been with you-” Morgue was already on her feet, pointing her pistol at the Kin’s bulbous brain.
“I told you not to call me that, not to ever say that around me again. I’m not Priscilla, I’m Madame Morgue. Fallen Angel. Pirate. Not that ignorant bitch.”
“...I was not insulting you. I was calling you what you are.” said the kin, quiet and patient. He had no reaction to the pistol pointed at him. He knew her better than she took him credit for. Morgue primed the pistol for fire.
“And I told you, that is NOT who I are- am. Not who I am. Don’t ever call me that again.”
“How can you be so sure you are something you were not supposed to be?”
“Dammit- Crel, I’m not-”
“I am not kidding you either.”
“Crel, I’m warning you-”
“And I’m warning you. You continue to flee from your past-”
“I am not running away from my past, I let it go! I-”
“Obviously not, if you refuse to let me call you Priscilla”
“I’m NOT Priscil-”
“Yes, you are. Because that is who you were when I met you, and I refuse to believe you are not the same.”
“Yeah, well, things change! And so did I!”
“You can’t change who you are just to escape-”
“I am NOT escaping! I just-”
“Then prove it, Priscilla-”
“YOU WANT ME TO PROVE IT?! I’LL PROVE IT!” And she whirled on her heels and let the pistol fire. Instead of a bullet flying from the barrel, and mixed whirlwind of elements, a twister of fire, water, earth, wind, ice, lightning, light, and darkness all flooded from the end of the pistol. Morgue screamed as the blast wore itself out, leaving nothing but a tide of total destruction in its wake. She was left panting, staring at the carnage the pistol had wrought. Crel watched in silence.
“...There. See? Does that LOOK like the power of a coward? Does it?!” Morgue demanded, pointing at the wreckage with her scimitar in her metal hand. Crel shook his head slowly.
“...It looks like the power of someone who has lost control. Anger built up inside for so long that you decide to loose all at once. Anger, perhaps, that could have been used for greater purposes…”
“Oh, shut the fuck up. Who are you to judge what I do with my gun.”
“Not the gun, you. That pistol did not do that on its own. You had that anger hiding somewhere for other reasons, not your frustration with me.”
Morgue was sitting down, now. She stared forward at what used to be the forest, now turned to rubble. Head held in metal hand, she sat in silence.
“...Morgue..”
“Stupid things, Crel. Stupid, damned idiotic things. I was younger then, Crel. I was hardly a cyan globe. Look at me now. Red globe. Times have changed.”
She fell backwards, lying down once again.
“I thought that since the world had forgotten what happened, I would do. It isn’t my fault Richard went fucking insane because of the shadow curse. It isn’t my fault William had to get caught up in this. I just wanted to let go, but he was so damn persistent…”
She held up her prosthetic arm. The metal shone in the moonlight as the hand joint whirred almost silently.
“...I knew I had to cut it off with Richard if I wanted to move on. I didn’t mean for it to become literal. And the last thing I wanted was for William to end up in the middle of this. I send him checks every now and then, you know? Some of the spoils I steal. Enough to keep the poor guy afloat. And to let him know I still care about him.”
“...So what does this have to do with you and the summit?”
“I… hoped I wouldn’t be brought into the great big world again. I wanted to distance from it. Only get involved when it had something that I wanted.. But then it sends me a letter, saying it needs me to help save the worlds of Globelore.”
There was a parting of silence for a moment before Crel stood suddenly, silent. Morgue leaned her head to look at him.
“It’s ok, you can go-”
“Shh.” He hushed, harshly. Morgue felt appalled.
“Wha- Excuse m-”
“Something is coming. Many somethings.”
And right on call, a loud crash through the brush and rubble that Morgue had carved with her pistol. A swarm of black clouds, hissing and rushing forward. A pair of white eyes shone from every whirling cloud. Crel brought his hands up, opening them and placing them together. They began to glow.
“Varujo.”
The devilish creatures that had been commonly mistaken as shadow elementals were inhabitants of the shadow dimension, the one that had been progressively leaking into the worlds of Globelore, both Tempus and Arctus. They acted as clever mongrels, packing together and surrounding their prey when in groups, and ambushing when hunting alone. They preyed on those with globes, orbs that users would have embedded into their chest that acted as catalysts for magic. Extensions of one’s soul that allowed them greater power physically, mentally, and magically. Varujo would taint these globes, infecting them and their user with life-sucking energy of darkness, draining them of their features and turning them into mindless zombies, bent on spreading the curse further. And now came a fresh pack of them towards both Crel and Morgue.
Morgue stood and lept into the sky, pointing her pistol and letting loose several small, weak beams of light. Though they were weak, the varujo they hit were sent tumbling to the ground, crumbling to dust and disappearing into the stampede. They neared Crel, who was waiting in silence. When they finally reached him, many of them began to circle outwards, some leaping directly towards him, when he unleashed a searing bright light from his palms. The light shone through the forest, catching many of the varujo and sending them to the same fate as those shot by Morgue’s elemental pistol. Those that survived had through hiding in the bushes and fallen trees. When the blast was complete, the survivors swarmed out and began to chase after Crel, who had begun to spin balls of light around his hands in preparation.
Morgue, above him, spun in a tight circle and sent a beam streaking across the ground in front of Crel. This caught only two of the remaining twelve, and the other then split into groups of five to divide and conquer, as they had been since they began invading Globelore. Five lept for Morgue, five for Crel, the latter of which let the balls of light explode in different directions, sending three into hiding, while an unfortunate two were disintegrated.
Morgue had been caught on the wing by one of them and fallen to the ground, but had used her pistol to scare off those that got too close to her globe. With a roll, she flipped back up onto her feet and brandished a new weapon: a twisted, yellow, claw-shaped sword that seemed to glow in the darkness. The five varujo that pursued her suddenly backed up in surprise, noticing the weapon’s capabilities, but they were not deterred for long. They split again and dove for her at two sides. Spinning in a tight circle, she flung the claw-shaped sword at one Varujo, while sweeping a beam at another group. The beam backed some of the varujo away, while the sword collided with the other, seemingly sticking in the misty creature as it solidified and dissipated. Morgue leapt forward, grabbing the sword before the solidified varujo fell apart, ripping it out. The varujo’s solid form crumbled like dry sand, and she flipped forward and slammed the sword into the varujo behind the previous one, destroying that one too. With a final violent turn, she swung the sword in a wide arc, sending a flash of scorching light in the direction of the remaining varujo that pursued her.
When she turned to help Crel, she saw that he had already finished off the remains of the attackers. He was watching her in dumbfounded silence. When she stared back, Crel began to panic and cheer at the same time.
“Madame, you cannot be serious- the Light Claw? THE Light Claw? One of, if not THE most powerful weapon against the shadow creatures?! How long have you had this?!” Crel blurted, flustered. Morgue looked at it, shrugging.
“I just… found it. Tempus desert. You know? Westlands? With the-”
“Yes, I KNOW about the desert, the baraqu, all that. How did you GET THIS?!”
“I found it. Hidden in the remains of that old arena. All deep underground it. There’s a tunnel system under there, you know?”
“You realize this weapon could very well be the solution to all our problems? A simple swing from this weapon can close a portal- one of which could very well be nearby, given that swarm of varujo! You cannot keep this a secret from the Summit-”
“Crel, I can’t go in there now! We’re probably late, the sun is already rising, and I’m not about to barge in there and get myself killed over a misunderstanding! We aren’t going back.”
“You cannot be serious. You would jeopardize the fate of the world over your selfishness?”
“I’m not being selfish, ok? It’s not selfishness, I’m trying to-”
“Save your own skin because you’re too terrified to fess up that you stole it.”
“I did not steal-”
“Yes, you did. I know you did. The baraqu leaders who planned the summit with me very distinctly said they had the Light Claw, but that some desert bandit had stolen it. We were preparing for the worst.”
Morgue looked at the elegant, glowing sword. She couldn’t tell what she wanted to do anymore. Crel stepped forward.
“You need to bring this in. Tell them the truth or tell them lies, you need to do it.”
“I can’t do it-”
“Yes, you CAN, Priscilla. You know very well-” And the gun was out again.
“Call me that again, braindead! I thought I made it VERY clear-”
“That your temper cannot be controlled! You are in possession of a weapon-”
“A weapon that belongs to me, alright!? One that I found, and I’m going to use to stop the varujo however I want to use it!”
“You really have changed, Priscilla. You were always selfish, but you were never savage.”
“I’ll show you savage, you-”
“Give me the sword, Priscilla-”
“Back up! I’m not giving you-”
“You cannot be trusted to keep this.”
“You can’t be trusted to keep your yap shut about me in the Summit, so why don’t we all just get out of here!”
“I will not let you jeopardize the worlds of Globelore because you cannot make one lousy appearance in the Summit!”
“Let’s GO, Crel!”
“I will not leave without the Light Claw-”
“You will leave, and you’re going with me!”
“Give me the-” The gun was primed.
“I’m warning you, Crel!”
“-Light Claw!”
“DAMN YOU!” And the sound of a loud BOOM cut off the sound of both of their voices.
The called leaders, representatives, and other invited guests had taken their seats long ago. Many of the more esteemed leaders insisted they wait for the arrival of a particular Kin. The wait had gone on too long. Many supposed he had second thoughts. Some thought he was dead, but others believed he was too powerful for that. So the summit began. Discussions back and forth began about the trouble of the portals opening, and the spreading cancer that was the shadow curse. There were reports of new portals, and closed portals. Discussions went on about what should be done about the threat. When they were finally interrupted by a guard proclaiming they had a visitor who was apparently invited, amazingly late, and had a red globe. They showed her in.
Morgue entered the summit hall with her wings hanging low, dragging behind her. Her hair hung over her eyes as she approached. She held one thing in her hands, and she covered it so that no one would yet know. When she finally reached the table, surrounded by mora, baraqu, other xangels, humans, even volkots, lyrians, and more, she did not sit. The room was dead silent. When she rose her head, her single eye was bloodshot and tearful. Many who despised her nearly chuckled, but others stared in silence. Others knew what happened already. Morgue was a close friend of Crel. Most knew this. When she finally opened her hands, it was made clear.
The unscathed, shining white globe of Crel sat in her trembling hands.
The summit hall erupted with chatter and mournful callings. Many people there did not even know who Crel was, but to many others more he was well-known for saving people’s lives, curing people of their curse, teaching protective light magic, negotiating peace, and more. When the hall was once again quiet, Morgue felt the need to speak again.
She talked about the argument the day prior, about whether or not she should have come. She described their time in the forest, and the attack against the varujo. But when time came, she sucked her breath and gave the explanation. A bandit a shot him.
A band of air pirates, many who once sided with her, had thought her a traitor to them by accepting the invitation. They attacked her and Crel when they had decided to go back to camp, ambushing them. During the fight, one of the scoundrels shot Crel in the head. She did not say which. The frail Kin never stood a chance against the shot. She told the summit she had killed the rest, throwing their bodies in the river in an act of disrespect, when she discovered one of them had a glowing sword on their back. She fished it out of the water and inspected it, identifying it as the very same Light Claw the baraqu leaders said was stolen. She mentioned Crel had told her about the stolen Light Claw. She drew it and placed it on the table, and the baraqu agreed. It was the Light Claw. She concluded by saying that she used the Light Claw to seal the portal that the varujo swarm had spilled from. It was dangerously close to the Cathedral.
The Summit continued its discussion, albeit shaken by the news. Decisions were made, but Morgue had retreated to a room to sulk.
When she awoke the next day, it was to one of the monks of the cathedral. A well-dressed Kin with a much smaller brain than Crel. He wore a suit and spoke politely, but with less distinct linguistics than Crel had.
“You had a rough night. I can see why. I apologize for what happened to your friend.” he said to Morgue, solemnly. Morgue sat up in bed, shivering from the cold, exhaustion, and more. She didn’t know what.
“I apologize for waking you, miss. But you received a letter addressed to you. I left it on the table beside you. Read it when you feel ready to. There’s no rush.” Sure enough, there was the letter. The top read ‘From William’.
The fine-dressed kin turned to leave, stopping part-way out the door.
“...We all make mistakes. One can only apologize, and hope for forgiveness.” Morgue sat up in slight panic, staring at the kin. The kin turned his head slightly, showing that he was listening.
“I’m sure Crel would have forgiven you long ago. Why don’t you ask him? It is forbidden, but they will never know.”
And with that, the kin stepped out.
Morgue stared at the glowing white globe that sat beside the letter. She was still trembling. With a shaky hand, she reached to her own globe that sat in her chest. Grasping it firmly, she pulled it out. It resisted, but came out smoothly. She placed the red globe on the bed beside her as she reached for the white globe. Breathing heavily, she brought it to her chest, and it clicked into place. For a moment, she didn’t feel like herself. She felt different. Older, wiser, calmer, smarter. Experienced, kind.
Then she was herself again. And she felt content.
She did not pull the white globe out of her chest again. She simply covered it with her cape and stood, picking up her previous globe and putting it into her cape. It disappeared into the inside of the red cape like it was a magic mirror. She took a step forward, passing the letter. She hadn’t read it yet.
The sun had moved few degrees when she finished reading the letter. Her life felt like it was turned upside down. She was wearing Crel’s globe. She was reading a letter from William. She had just shown her face to everyone in the summit. Nothing seemed to be going her way. Until the well-dressed kin again stepped inside, followed by a mora.
The mora was colored deep blue in skin tone, and wore a white blindfold over her eyes. She stood in silence with her hands behind her back, as the kin cleared his throat to addressed Morgue.
“Madame, This is Kali. She would like to invite you to something.” Kali stepped forward.
“We know you’ve had some… unsteady times... recently, but I have an offer for you. You are not experienced with light magic, but you have an elemental pistol and you did find the Light Claw. The Baraqu leaders are considering allowing you to keep it for the time being, considering you accept the offer.” Morgue looked at her, weakly.
“What kind of offer?”
“The summit wasn’t gathered just to talk, Madame.” said the Kin. “This was to discuss matters to combat the shadow dimension, then act on them. We’ve decided to compile some of our best fighters from every race, religion, vocation, whatever, to be an elite team that serves only the world. We’ll have them sent out to close portals and eliminate the threat of varujo. We were hoping, if you would consider it, that you would be part of it. We have a couple hundred, but we need every hand we can get.”
About half an hour later, the deal was set. There was payment to be had, as well as fame and glory. But Morgue wasn’t sure if she wanted those anymore. She felt compelled, however, at a strange moment, to accept, so she did. When Kali had left, she felt like herself again. The Kin nodded at her.
“I see you two have made up. I wish you all the luck you can get.” And he left.
Morgue stood and patted down her dress. She looked at the letter one last time, and turned to step out the door.
“Don’t worry, kiddo.”
She let the letter fall to the floor. The heading read ‘Dear Mother, wherever you are, you’re invited to my wed-’ and she shot the paper with a small ball of fire from her pistol after quickly checking to see if anyone else noticed what the letter said.
“I’ll be there. And I’ll bring you something better than gold.”
“I’ll bring you the worlds. And I'll personally make them safe.”
"It's what Crel would have wanted."
It is indeed what I would have wanted, Priscilla. I'll be with you all the way.