27. Magia Absolutum

10.07.203 UI

The next morning started with a bang. Glass scattered in a hail across the white, tile lobby of Esotech tower. Employees and visitors ran screaming as a large lump of twisted metal covered in faded runes went flying through the windowed reception area, leaving a crater in the tile.

Morgan stepped through the broken glass, eyes alight with magic as Aaron, Daphne, Shane, and Frey followed close behind. With a flick of her wrist and a flash of gold, Daphne dropped the security guard to the floor before they could grab their weapon. The woman at the reception desk peeked over the edge from behind, shaking. Morgan clenched his fists, glaring at the woman and relishing the change in her demeanor since their last meeting.

“Castor Ellington. Now.”

The receptionist was attempting to dial the number when Ellington stepped through the glass doors, a fake smile glued to his plastic face.

“Ahh! Mister Fell, so kind of you to return our stolen prototypes!” He glanced over the wreckage with a sigh as Morgan moved toward him with a murderous scowl. “A video call would’ve sufficed th-”

Morgan gripped the man tight around the throat, lifting him from the ground, causing veins to bulge in his swelling face.

“If I ever-” Morgan hissed, violet fire dancing in his eyes, “see anything like this in my city again, I will personally shove it up your pompous ass, fire it up, and see if it gives you special powers.”

Ellington stared in terror, gurgling from the pressure at his throat.

“Are we clear?”

Ellington nodded rapidly, and Morgan released him, throwing him backward into the reception desk. Morgan turned on the spot, glass crunching beneath his boots. Leaving through the shattered windows, he gave a snap of his fingers, and what remained of the rune-tech was set ablaze, melting into a silver pool across the lobby floor. His coven followed, smirking among themselves as Ellington shouted after them.

“Off-Officer Jones! I’ve just been assaulted! Aren’t you going to arrest that man?”

“Sorry,” Aaron called back with a shrug and a bored glance over his shoulder, “I’m retired.”

Still shaking and red in the face, Ellington stood, inclining his head to the receptionist as he stared after House Fell. “Get the Director on the line.”

After a day to recuperate, it was time to face the Council. As only those with some form of magic were able to teleport to the meeting room, Daphne helped Shane set up a connection from his comm to the display in the Manor living room. The knights and soldiers flooded the available seating, leaving some to stand or sprawl out across the floor.

When the connection was in place, Shane tapped at his temple to reveal the currently empty, circular room, which had been magically expanded to fit two more ringed tables outside the first.

“That’s incredible!” Percival leaned into Shane’s space, examining the side of his head with curious enthusiasm. “It’s like Morgan’s spyglass spells!”

Daphne chuckled as Shane swatted Percival’s fingers away from his face. “Kind of, yeah. You can talk through this, though. Watch.”

She strode to meet Morgan, Aaron and Frey in the entry hall, clasping hands with Frey as Morgan turned their newly issued anchor, a small, translucent crystal, over in his hands. The next second, the four of them stood on the plush, red carpet of the Council meeting room. The display among the bookcases they had used at the last meeting was now filled with the wide faces of their companions, Gwen chuckling at their bewilderment in the background.

“Testing, testing!” Daphne called with a wave at the screen. “You lot hear me okay?”

“Reading you loud and clear, gorgeous!” Shane shot her a wink.

Daphne’s cheeks reddened at the term of endearment, and she rolled her eyes at the man before turning away with an upward curve on her lips.

Several witches appeared in the room, none of which had been present at their battle, casting wary glances at House Fell as they took their seats with little more than tense nods in greeting. Morgan claimed the seat he had occupied on his previous visit. Daphne had started to do the same, but with a smile and a glance over her shoulder at Aaron, she rounded the opening to the table behind, Frey following with a grin.

“I’m going to be the only common here, aren’t I?” Aaron groaned, dropping into the seat beside Morgan.

Morgan smiled apologetically. “Don’t talk about my boyfriend like that. He’s royalty, I’ll have you know.”

Aaron scoffed, “Please. My boyfriend is a way bigger deal here in Etna than yours.”

With a quiet laugh Morgan laced their fingers together beneath the table. “That may be true, but mine was always much better at politics than yours. And this place tends to require a diplomatic touch.”

“I’ll give you a diplomatic touch,”Aaron thought to him, making him clap a hand over his mouth to cover an involuntary snort.

Daphne sighed dramatically from behind. “At least there’s nowhere for them to run off to and spend the whole meeting having sex.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Morgan smirked over his shoulder. “Or you’ll look back fondly on the day I left my bedroom door open.”

Aaron, Daphne, and Frey laughed far too loudly, and the other witches in the room shot them startled looks. Agatha appeared with the coven members that had joined their fight, smiling brightly at Morgan and Aaron with a wiggle of her fingers as they found their seats. Lucas, the young witch that Morgan had saved, blushed at the sight of them before nodding in their direction with a grin.

Theresa arrived next with House Hawthorne, and she quickly paced the red carpet to Morgan.

“I need to speak with you before we get started,” she said, throwing an arm out to mute the space directly around them as she leaned over the table, “As much as I would like to believe the best of our people, I have reason to fear that if we confirm what McMillan offered up in a moment of anger at the ball, we may suffer some dissent among some of our more conservative members.”

“I already told them the truth, Theresa,” Morgan said, “Are you planning on wiping their memories? I can’t say I’m okay with that.”

“No, no, of course not.” Theresa waved her hand dismissively. “None of the witches that were at the battle will say a word. You won them over. Thoroughly, I might add. They have nothing but good things to say about you. House Emery and House Lowell, however, have been offering a reward to anyone who comes forward with information about what they witnessed that night. Specifically, information about you.”

Aaron searched the room as other witches began to filter in. “What do you think they’re planning on doing with that information?”

“Nothing good, I’m afraid.” Theresa sighed. “They either wish to depose me, oust you from the community, or both, neither of which will end well for anyone. Both courses of action would create a rift that would ultimately do nothing but harm, and likely alert the common world to the truth.”

Morgan clenched his hands on top of the table, and Aaron reached over to grip the one closest to him. “You have a plan though?” Aaron asked, glancing between Morgan and Theresa.

“I do.” She said with a grin. “However, I would like Morgan’s permission to contain the truth of your origins, yours and your comrades, along with the events of what occurred in the wastes, within the Occult Community.”

“A contract?” Morgan met her eyes. “You think they’ll go for that?”

“Oh, my dear boy...” Her grin became far more pronounced. “I think they won’t have a choice. So long as I have your consent and... your support.”

Morgan glanced at Aaron, his chest knotting at the idea of continuing to remain a secret, but he nodded. “I’m with you.”

She shot him a wink, casually wafted her hand through the space to remove her mute, and took her high seat between him and the rest of her coven.

“You know what’s going on?” Aaron pressed into his mind.

Morgan nodded. “She’s going to try to reason with them before offering any information. If reason fails...”

Aaron raised his brow in question.

“Then she’ll invoke her authority as the Head of the Council. It’s a last resort gambit, meant only to be used in the most dire of circumstances. If her gambit is accepted, the room will enter a magical lockdown, allowing only her and her second to cast until her business is concluded.”

“Who’s her second?”

Morgan scanned the room, looking for the man that had spoken at their last meeting. Directly across the way, flanked by several witches that had neither been present at their battle nor the previous Council meeting, Morgan’s eyes found their target. His demeanor was far more dour this time, and his gaze was narrowed, staring straight at House Fell. “Amadeus Emery.”

Aaron followed Morgan’s eyes, but his attention was swayed as Theresa rapped on the table with her knuckles.

“My dear witches of Etna...” She shook her head solemnly. “One day is not enough time to recover after what we have endured. Not enough time to rest and grieve those we have lost. We were victorious in the end, due in no small part to the efforts of House Fell, but we were robbed of some very dear members of our community. Were it possible, I would much rather you be at home with your covens. However, the truth must come to light before the members of the Council.”

Several witches, Amadeus included, cast glances at one another across the tables.

“All those that were present in our struggle to bring justice to Edward Abernathy have been summoned here today.” She gestured to the screen behind her. “You will see that we found allies in our fight, all of whom-”

Amadeus stood suddenly, clearing his throat. Theresa’s expression turned blank. “Something to say, Amadeus?”

“Madam Hawthorne, I-”

“Elder Hawthorne, oldfriend. We must observe proper form during such... uncertain times, mustn’t we?”

Amadeus’s eyes bulged in offense. “Elder Hawthorne... Forgive my misgivings, but it has come to our attention that a certain level of... favoritism may have been shown, regarding the formation of House Fell.”

Morgan stared the man down. Aaron’s grip tightened on his hand. He could practically feel the tension coming from Daphne behind him and heard the low grumble of his friends back at the Manor through the display.

“Oh?” Theresa crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair with a smirk, and waved her hand for him to continue. “Go on, then. Elaborate.”

Amadeus looked around to meet several nods in encouragement, one of which was from Reginald Cranely. Morgan stared daggers at the man, and Reginald’s face turned white as he caught his eye.

“We have an eyewitness account,” Amadeus said angrily, “Confirming that not only is Mister Fell, in contradiction to his registered status, an Ancient, but also guilty of performing the very same crime that our people were dispatched to punish! Resulting in the birth of a dyanima Perfectem! And you would choose to begin this meeting with condolences and tales of victory when a far greater threat to our way of life sits in this very room?” He pointed a shaking finger at Morgan.

Aaron and Daphne both hopped to their feet, red in the faces and ready to shield him.

“Ah- ah- ah-” Theresa gestured for them to sit. “No harm will come to Morgan in this room. Not under my watch.”

“Ha!” Reginald scoffed from his seat as Aaron and Daphne slowly returned to theirs. “What’d I tell you? He’s been here for weeks, and he’s got her wrapped around his finger.”

“You...” Theresa hissed, “Will speak when spoken to, Mister Cranely. I’ll not take insult from a man who cowered in the shelter of his home while his wife fought to defend her family. A man who would defame the very person responsible for restoring his child’s stolen magic.”

Reginald turned so red that Morgan thought his head might actually pop this time.

“You don’t deny it then?” Amadeus hissed, “None of you? He admitted his true name to most of the witches in this room, and you chose to keep this from us? Your Council?”

“Why would we tell you?” Lucas slapped the table and stood to his feet, glaring at the man as Agatha raised her hands, uncertain if she should talk him down. “Look how you’re reacting! You don’t even know him, and you’re ready to punish him just for being more powerful than you! How are you any better than the commons out there that hate us for being witches?”

Morgan’s heart swelled at the bravery the young man showed on his behalf, and he felt Aaron’s hand at his back.

“How dare you!” Amadeus spat, “I’m seven times your elder and you would question me, you little-”

“I believe...” Theresa interrupted his tirade with a firm tone, “Lucas asked a question first, Amadeus. Honestly, your decorum today.” She tutted.

“This has nothing to do with him being an Ancient!” Another witch rose at Amadeus’s side, and Morgan recognized her voice immediately from the argument with Daphne in the ballroom. Stacia Lowell, he recalled from the invitations. Her pointed face was pinched into a permanent scowl beneath graying, blonde hair and a periwinkle cloche. “He violated our laws! He clearly thinks he’s beyond our reach! You heard how he badgered us at their Harkening! He’s nothing but a bully, forcing us to meet his needs! People died! All for him to rescue his- his- boyfriend!”

The meeting room broke out into a storm of dissonance. Morgan said nothing, staring down at his own clenched fists. His mind was racing at their accusations, all of them thoughts he had berated himself with.

“Morgan le Fay...” Aaron thought to him over the chaos, “Don’t you dare take these awful people to heart. Lucas spoke true. If any one of them had been in the same situation as us, you know very well they wouldn’t be acting like this toward them.”

“Aaron... I... I didn’t ask them to fight. I would’ve gone into the wastes alone if I had to.”

“And yet, you rallied an army to fight for what you believe in. And in turn, they now believe in you.”

“I don’t... I don’t deserve that. They followed me and so many of them paid the price. Everything I did was selfish.”

He heard Aaron’s soothing laugh in his head. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re a good man before it sticks?”

“Am I?”

“Sweetheart... evil men don’t question their actions. They hide behind their convictions. They find certainty when they should seek introspection, and they don’t carry the weight of those they lost along the way. Remember your heart, fy cariad. Remember why we fight.”

Aaron’s words gripped him tight to haul him out of the dark pit of his own mind right before it dragged him away. He wasn’t going to wallow in self-pity while witches like these stood in the way of everything he had fought for. Aaron—Arthur—had ever been so much more to him than his lover and his best friend. He was his hope, his strength, and his reason to fight for a better world. No one was going to undermine that. Not now. Not ever again.

Amadeus roared above the cacophony, “I call for a vote of no confidence in Madam-”

“I invoke the right of Magia Absolutum,” Theresa said plainly.

The room went as silent as the grave.

“What?” Stacia screeched, “She’s gone mad!”

Theresa chuckled, unbothered by the behavior of her fellow witches. “Have I?”

“Clearly!” Amadeus hissed, “You can’t possibly believe that I would support your invocation! You have nothing without the backing of your second!”

“My second?” Theresa smiled at them. “We derive our titles and our ranks from our magic’s potency, my friend. You’re what, just shy of three hundred years?”

“Correct!” He scowled. “And as the Council’s second eldest-”

“But you’re not.” Morgan rose to his feet, and the room fell silent once more. “Or are you so wholly uncertain of your accusations that you thought to point the finger with one hand and shield yourself with the other?”

“I-” Amadeus sputtered, “You can’t just-”

“I, Morgan le Fay…” His eyes burned so brightly with magic that it crept beyond the steel-gray of his irises, swelling to every corner. “Second Witch of Avalon, Lord and Knight of Camelot, sworn to the service of my King, Arthur Pendragon, relinquish any and all claims to the Head Seat of the Council of Etna City.”

The room became a torrent of hushed whispers and wild stares.

“And do I have your support in my invocation, Morgan?” Theresa said, her smile lingering on Amadeus’s shocked face.

“You have my support, Elder Hawthorne.” The room blazed bright at his words. White runes shined to life along the walls and across the red carpet. Every eye darted around the space as all traces of magic were suppressed, leaving only Theresa and Morgan with their power.

“This- this is-”

“Shut... your... mouth, Amadeus.” Theresa scathed with crimson eyes, and the man’s jaw immediately snapped shut. “I am appalled that I need resort to such measures simply to maintain order. You show ignorance and insolence I thought so very far beneath you. All of you, who would dare attack Morgan simply because of who he is!This is how wars begin! This is the sort of behavior that would lead our city to ruin!

“You were not there. Not one of you that now throw stones had the courage or the conviction to do what was necessary to defend our city! To defend one of our own! Yes, Morgan is an Ancient! Yes, I hid that fact from all of you—to protect him! To protect our home from the same fate that stokes fear in your hearts at the very mention of Ancients! Well, they exist! They have lived and they have fought for our way of life harder than any single one of you could possibly imagine! A few centuries more and I, myself, will fall into that category! Is this how you would treat me when that time comes?”

The witches turned to one another with uncertainty in their eyes, but not one of them dared to speak.

Theresa pinched the bridge of her nose and stood, pacing the room. “I will recount the events of our battle with Abernathy to the letter. When I am finished, no one will leave this room without signing a contract, agreeing that this information will not be repeated beyond these walls. House Fell will be excused, as this is their business and no one else’s. Do I make myself clear?”

She glanced around the room, and everyone nodded, Amadeus and the witch beside him included. Reginald made a low growl in his throat and Theresa whirled around on him.

“Something to add, Reginald?”

“You bet I have something to add!” he spat, “My wife risked her life to bring us proof of what we’ve suspected all along-”

Morgan clenched his eyes shut, fighting to steady his breath as he suddenly noticed that Denise was absent from the room. She had seemed so genuine in her desire to stand beside them after he’d helped Lena. Was it all just to get to him?

“And you’re just going to steamroll us?” Reginald hissed, “To have this boy with too much power for his own good at your beck and call?”

Theresa looked him over with fury dancing in her eyes. She took a momentary glance at Morgan before turning to her coven. “Hestia, dearest, please make your way to the Cranely home and retrieve Denise immediately.” She dropped a small crystal into the woman’s hand that glowed crimson, and Hestia vanished.

Reginald stood to his feet, shaking with rage. “You can’t-”

“Silence!” Theresa hissed, throwing a pointed finger in his direction as her eyes burned red.

Reginald recoiled into his seat, clutching at his neck with a pained growl.

Theresa inhaled deeply. “Until further notice, you are hereby expelled as the representative of your coven, Reginald Cranely. Should you step foot in this room again without permission, the consequences will make themselves apparent with your final breath.”

As Reginald scratched at the blooming red marks on his neck, Hestia returned, holding up the disheveled figure of Denise Cranely. Theresa waved a hand, and an empty chair glided through the air to land at her feet. Hestia helped Denise to sit while Theresa summoned a pitcher of water from beneath her desk, pouring a glass and handing it to the ragged woman.

Denise’s blonde hair was tangled and unkempt, eyes red and swollen. She drank the water so quickly that it caused her to cough as she passed it back to Theresa.

“She was locked in one of the spare rooms, Lady Hawthorne,” Hestia said solemnly.

Theresa cast furious eyes to Reginald, then to Amadeus and Stacia. “Denise, dear, can you tell us what happened?”

Denise slowly raised her head to meet Reginald’s glowering stare before turning to face Morgan. Tears fell to her cheeks as she spoke in rasping breaths. “I didn’t... I swear, Morgan, I didn’t want to tell them! They forced me! They held me down and made me drink primrose and bluebell tonic!”

Morgan clenched his teeth, offering the woman a single nod in understanding. Everything inside of him was telling him to strike the three witches he was certain she was referring to down where they sat. He shook with fury, glowering at them and heaving.

“Who forced you, Denise?” Theresa whispered as she knelt at the woman’s side.

Denise cast another wary glance around her, before leaning in to whisper in Theresa’s ear.

“Denise!Don’t you dare!” Reginald stood, moving toward her.

Theresa made to block his path to Denise. The small, red man took no more than one step in their direction before he was sent flying backward into a tall bookcase with a crash.

“Stay down,” Morgan growled, “Or that hex won’t get a chance to end you.”

Theresa nodded to him in thanks. With a snap of her fingers and a flare of her irises, several witches in the room began yelling, struggling as red bands coiled around their wrists and ankles. Stacia and another witch near Amadeus yelped in surprise, falling from their chairs.

“Amadeus Emery, Florian Emery, Stacia Lowell, Damon Lowell, Reginald Cranely.” Theresa’s tone was steady and harsh. “For the crimes of sedition and the forced testimony of another witch by magical means, you are hereby under arrest, pending trial by the Occult Council of Etna City.”

House Hawthorne and House Masters both moved to lift the restrained witches to their feet. Theresa snapped her fingers again, and a long roll of parchment uncurled over her desk.

“Every person in this room, apart from those belonging to House Fell, are to sign the contract with a single drop of blood, agreeing that-”

“Wait,” Morgan interjected.

Theresa’s eyes widened. Morgan glanced at Aaron, then turned to Daphne and Frey, before glancing up to those back at the Manor. “I don’t want them to sign that. None of them.”

Aaron came up behind him, lacing his fingers into Morgan’s. “Babe?”

Morgan shook his head. “If we force them to hide the truth via magic, how is that any better than extracting it from someone unwilling? I offered up my name, placed my trust in them. I won’t take that back.”

“Morgan,” Theresa said sternly, gesturing to the bound witches, “Given their attempts to undermine you, I’d think you would take this more seriously. They could call for others to rise up against you and any who stand beside you.”

He blew out a breath, holding Aaron’s hand tight. “Then that’s on them. I won’t hide any longer, Theresa. I didn’t come here with the intent to remain a secret. It was only once I had learned how people would react to my presence that I chose to stay hidden.” He met Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t want to keep pretending, baby. I’ll keep my name because that’s how everyone knows me here, but I won’t hide who we are… or who you are to me.”

Aaron nodded, positively beaming at him. “Then we make our own path, as always.”

Theresa glanced around the room, before looking back to Morgan and Aaron with a nod. “This meeting is adjourned,” she said loudly, dismissing those present before moving to Morgan’s side, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Morgan laughed, throwing his head back dramatically. “By now I’d think you would recognize that I am entirely making this up as I go and rolling with the punches, Theresa. I just do it better than most.”

“So glad to have you as my second, then,” Theresa said, rolling her eyes, “It wouldn’t have ended well without you, however. Thank you, Morgan.”

Aaron squeezed the back of his neck with a proud smile. “You were amazing, sweetheart.”

Daphne and Frey nodded emphatically at his side.

“Morgan, before you go...” Theresa took caution and waved her hand to silence the space once more. “Regarding Albion... I wondered if you might have any idea what became of him?”

Morgan gave Aaron a look, and the man nodded, urging him to divulge what few details they knew. “Well... we both remember everything, actually. It’s rather like...”

“We were in the car... but we were just the passengers,” Aaron finished.

Morgan nodded. “We knew what he was thinking. We felt his emotions as if they were our own. But other than when he let us through to finish Abernathy, he was calling the shots. Based on the things he said, and the fact that he chose to restore us when the battle was finished, I think...” He sighed. “I think I created him when I cast the spell to bring Arthur back.”

Theresa blinked away her shock. “I... do recall him saying something to that effect.”

“You know as well as I that magic can be given direction, but ultimately what determines its effects is the intent of the one wielding it. When I cast that spell, all I wanted was...” He leaned into Aaron, meeting his eyes. “To be with him again.”

“And like you,” Daphne interrupted with certainty blossoming behind her eyes, “your spell grew stronger over the course of time.”

“Yep.” Morgan bobbed his head, proud of his apprentice. “And when its goal was threatened, and the right conditions were met-”

“Dyanima Perfectem,” Theresa whispered, “That’s why he restored you to your bodies. If he hadn’t, his very reason for existing would’ve gone unfulfilled.” She laughed airily. “It’s never going to be dull with you around, is it?”

Morgan couldn’t help but laugh. She was probably right. He wasn’t going to confirm that for her, however. The woman had more than enough to deal with right now.

“To answer your question though, I don’t think he’ll be back,” he said, not nearly as convinced as his tone implied, “He was at his full power in the end, but what he did for us... that took everything he had. Even if he yet lingers, it would be eons before he had the strength to manifest again.”

“Hmm. I suppose that’s true. Giving life always costs life in return, even for a being of that caliber.” She stared pensively at the floor for a moment, biting her thumbnail. “The two of you haven’t noticed any... well... any side effects? The intertwining of two souls- we never really thought to imagine what might occur if they were somehow separated again. It seemed inconceivable.”

“Uh... well...” Aaron hesitated, trying to decide if their discovery was something they should share, given the only time it seemed to appear.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” Morgan interrupted, “If anything, I think we just feel...” He met Aaron’s eyes again. “Closer somehow.”

Aaron responded with an adoring smile. “Definitely.”

“Well, if anything happens, you have the foremost expert on the matter at your disposal.” She beamed at them. “Oh, one more thing...” She glanced between him and Aaron. “Given that the two of you are already bonded and you’re in a... well, a long-term relationship doesn’t exactly do it justice now, does it?” She laughed at her own joke, reaching out to grip Aaron’s arm with a warm smile. “If you would like to officially join House Fell, Aaron, it wouldn’t take more than a couple of signatures.”