28. A Reckoning

28

A Reckoning

Morgana

B reathe. Breathe. Breathe. I look down. Alistair's face bears nothing. No expression, no emotion, no life.

"Morgana," Sierra's voice rings in my ear, though it sounds distant. She steps in front of me, blocking Alistair's face from my view. She's frantic about something, though I'm not really picking up what. She keeps looking down at my chest. As I follow her line of sight, I can see something in my chest stopping me from breathing. It's the dagger, dead center and probably close to my heart, even though I can't feel it at the moment. I lift my hand and grab hold of the hilt. Taking as firm a grip as I can manage, I pull it out of my chest. As its fiery glow ceases, I realize that it wasn't stopping me from breathing. Alistair's younger twin brothers are doing nothing but celebrating their grand achievement of killing him, a feat I know they've been trying for years. Alistair has never lost to them before. This is when it dawns on me. It's all my fault. Whatever it was, he would have been distracted by the fact I was even here. I should never have been here, and he shouldn't have been here trying to protect me either. He should have been down in Hell where he would have been safer. My father never should have let him come. The trees around us start to vibrate, and the ground below my feet feels very light suddenly. Even though it was a lot darker earlier, it looks a lot brighter now. What's happening to me? "Morgana, what's happening to you?" Sierra's voice is filled with fear. "Your eyes are going weird. We need to get out of here," she says, her fear evident and probably warranted. However, I have unfinished business. I want to let a wicked smile reach my lips. I want to let the world know that something has returned and it should be feared. But in truth, I don't believe humans have anything to fear from me anymore. In fact, the only ones that should be afraid right now are the two twin morons standing above Alistair's body. Especially when they realize that I, in fact, have my powers back. I am Morgana, Princess of Darkness, fearsome, merciless, and their eventual murderer.

"Take this," I say, the voice that leaves my body doesn't sound like mine. I still pass the dagger over to Sierra, and she takes it with both hands. "Whatever you do, Sierra," I begin, realizing that my voice is now joined by a thousand other voices, "you will take this dagger and you will run. Run straight home and hide it. You will tell no one where it is. In fact, I don't even want you to tell me."

"But—"

"Run!" This time she doesn't hesitate. Clenching it closely to her chest, she bolts. At that moment, I believe the brothers know what has happened. They look up to me, eyes full of curiosity, unsure whether to believe that I've just been attacked by that dagger and whether or not I have my powers back. I don't know for sure yet if I can do everything that I used to, but I don't care. Even if I'm still human now, I will attack them and I will kill them.

I flex my hand, and with each crack of my knuckles, I can feel the roots of a nearby tree shift. The ground quakes, and the brothers brace themselves. Fear wrenches over them, and I can taste it. The vibrations of everything around me echo back into my ears. I hate this world for what it has done. I hate those twins, the worms that they are. Humans will learn that demons exist and there is nothing to fear. Yet there are still those that control the demons. Angels hold power over everything, and I will be judge, jury, and executioner of anyone who dares defy me anymore.

One of the brothers tries to step behind the other, and I see one glance towards the scythe, buried in Alistair's limp body. There is nothing of him that remains. Demons only possess the capability to have a soul, but they are not born with one.

"Tell me something." Even though my voice is a whisper, I know they hear me. Igniting my hands with the blue ice fire that surrounds Hell, I continue my question. "Do you think there is anything waiting for you beyond your death?" Of the twins, who possess a heart each on the right, I hear them racing. They are mere minutes from their hearts exploding through their rib cages, assuming I don't tear them limb from limb beforehand. With each step I take closer to them, I see their fear grow. Their legs bend, buckling at the knees. Unwillingly, they no longer possess the ability to deny me my presence in a physical form. I'm whole again. But in truth, I'm never going to be whole ever again. They took something from me I can't get back.

Reaching Alistair's body, I lean down to touch his face. He's still warm, but no life courses through him anymore.

"Please, my lady." Belial begs, his head bowed as low as he can manage. My eye twitches at the mere thought of him speaking to me. Flashing over to the front of him, I take him by the throat, lifting him from the ground he knelt on.

"You don't have permission to refer to me that way." He attempts to beg, but I'm not going to let his words escape him ever again. He will feel the pain I'm feeling, every ounce of it, and he will feel it tenfold. Letting the power and pain run through my fingertips, escaping through the claws that now protrude into this boy's neck, he starts to change color. At first, an amusing streak of grey and black veins become evident, coming to the surface of his skin, which changes until it's shades of green and purple.

"Leave him alone," Astaroth yells, catching my attention. But I don't release my grip on Belial. In fact, as I stare blankly at Astaroth, I increase my strength as the twin lunges forward towards me to stop me from hurting his brother. I lift up my hand towards his face. The fear in his eyes grows as he realizes what's happening to him. Instead of coming further to his brother's aid, he turns heel and starts to run away, but it's no use, the spell is already in effect. I watch as his body starts to change shape and he collapses to the ground. Within mere moments, his entire body wraps around itself in a blue haze and then eventually falls to the ground in a heap, the heap bold until it turns into yet another soul crystal.

"Well," I begin, turning back to Belial, "I hope that within all of this planning, you two decided to develop a soul. It would be quite unfortunate if I just turned him into a soul crystal and he didn't have one." I know fully well that demons don't usually develop souls. There is no doubt in my mind that Astaroth didn't have one, so turning him into a soul crystal completely exonerated him from reality. Whatever once existed of that demon no longer does. I release my hold on Belial and let him drop to the ground. Even though he's struggling to breathe, he still stares at the soul crystal that was once his brother.

"I haven't decided what to do with you yet," I state to him, pondering with a finger to my chin.

"Please," he barely manages to whisper. "We've tried for years to kill Alistair. We've never succeeded. We didn't even expect you this time."

"And yet it was still an attempt you made, an attempt that did in fact succeed."

"He was just one servant. I'm happy and willing to take his place." The mere statement sends my teeth on edge. Turning swiftly, I kick him in the face and let him drop to the ground with a grunt.

"Alistair was irreplaceable," I scream, feeling the hate from the tears dripping down my face. "I will not forgive the ones that took him from me. I just haven't decided that now, without your brother, if I should kill you as well. Or to watch you longer. You've taken something from me that I can't have back."

"Please, Princess, anything, I'll do anything," he pleads.

"Can you bring back a demon that had no soul?" I don't want this boy to live. Demons aren't meant to enjoy the torture they put on humans, and yet I know for a fact these ones do. I've already removed one brother from the picture. I suppose I don't have to remove both of them. That wouldn't be very fair to their father. With a flick of the wrist, I send him away in flames. I don't know exactly where in Hell he'll end up, but he will be alive.

Turning around, I look at the limp body on the floor. My whole chest is shaking as I approach him. Kneeling down towards his side, I close his eyes, which no longer possess any color. I don't know what to do with him right now, but he can't be seen like this. As I give him one last kiss on his cold lips, I let his body encase itself in flames before disappearing altogether in ash.

It's time to go home.