Chapter 40
Mora
A torrent of obsidian forced its way under the old wooden door, puddling in the entryway before slithering across scuffed hardwood.
Voices chattered in the kitchen, terse clips cut by Castellan’s exasperated laugh.
When smoke rose, dark, shadowy wisps spilling into the entryway, they quieted, Jade’s gasp the only sound of welcome.
Mist shrank back, glistening on Mora’s skin like a kiss from the night, and their faces fell.
Long, dark ringlets tumbled down her back, the gold beneath her rich, brown complexion nearly aglow. She looked beautiful... if not for the blood dripping from her clothing to puddle at her feet, and the five shivering Halflings clinging to the sopping, black material.
Eris paled. “What happened?”
Mora’s burning gaze snapped to him and he shut his mouth. “Ask me to heal them,” she seethed, her attention moving to Castellan.
The Halflings looked around the room, their eyes frantic. Horrified. Almost in unison, they released their hold on Mora, jerking away as if she’d struck them. Free at last from the endless obsidian void she’d encased them in.
“Where are we?” an elderly Naturalist asked, tears brimming his bloodshot eyes. Wood popped in the hearth, smoke tickling the bottom of a bubbling pot, glowing embers licking up its sides. The man shrank back, trembling while he watched the flames sway, a gray pallor on his tawny cheeks.
Imani stood, crossing the kitchen to kneel in front of him. “I’m here, Marvin. You’re safe.”
“Imani?” Tension eased from his bony shoulders when he looked at her. “Is that really you?”
“It’s been so long. After we parted in Reverie, I never imagined...
” Imani shared a look with Jade, a silent question in those eyes.
Her love nodded before pushing away from the table and moving to Eris’s preferred cooking counter, a mountain of peelings piled on his cutting board.
A gentle smile graced Imani’s face. “It doesn’t matter.
We’re here now; I’ll patch you up like old times. ”
The scrape of chairs against the floor grated on Mora’s ears. The borders of her vision blurred, darkness creeping in until all she saw was Castellan, his brows raised. Hands reaching for her before he thought better of it and tucked them behind his back.
“What happened?”
Mora stalked toward him, her shaking fists hidden by Eris’s long sleeves. “Tell. Me. To. Heal. Them.” She snarled every word, her power undulating under her skin, ready to mend but trapped by the stipulation of his last wish.
“Of course.” He nodded. “Heal any who need it.”
Something eased behind Mora’s ribs, power uncoiling from its bony cage, Castellan’s permission all it needed to roam free. At least, to heal the Halflings.
Jade came into view, carrying rags and an earthenware water jug. Good. Mora could fix their wounds, but someone would have to clean up the gore painting their skin. It was evidence of what had been done. Reflections they likely didn’t wish to see.
She looked to the air Elementalist first, flesh hanging off her wounded cheek.
Her clenched, bloodstained teeth were framed by gore, each panicked breath no doubt feeding her pain until it was all she knew.
But when Mora reached for her, she whimpered and flinched away.
It fed the pressure building in Mora’s chest—they all watched her.
Feared her. Stared at her as if she’d tear them limb from limb the moment they caught her attention.
She’d gone too far at the manor, Mora had to admit, but it was for them.
For the fire Elementalist who’d taken his last breath before she could get to him.
For the kind lord and his family, who’d tried so hard to keep these Halflings safe and paid with their lives.
For the five she’d managed to spirit away.
Why did they behave as if their organs would strike the ground next?
Sweat gathered on her palms. She tried to wipe them on her tunic, staining her hands with blood anew, a coppery scent weighed down by brimstone and ash flooding her nostrils.
Mora hated it.
Hated... what she’d become. The lines she’d crossed. The reflection she saw in the eyes of the people she’d sullied herself to save.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Dother clicked his tongue. I thought you wanted to be the monster, Treasure? She could imagine his mocking pout. The glimmer of amusement in his azure stare.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed him away, but the darkness refused to set her free.
Mora drowned in a cacophony of shrieks and fruitless pleas, the off-key notes her own creation—she’d pulled them from her victims’ lungs, staining the snowy grounds of Lord Falcrest’s manor red.
Soaking the lands in blood until not a speck of ivory remained.
There was euphoria in her vengeance. A light, airy feeling she’d first experienced when Dother met his end. Now... now her body felt heavy, her stomach twisting, nausea surging up her throat.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do this earlier,” Mora murmured, swallowing past the bile burning her tongue. Smoke pooled in her palm, but when she lifted her hand to the air Elementalist’s cheek, the woman screeched, her wound stretching, skin tearing while a new wave of blood oozed to the surface.
Floorboards creaked under Castellan’s boots, but before he could say a word, Mora snarled, “This doesn’t concern you.
” Her lips twisted into a sneer when tears streamed down the woman’s face—she’d saved them.
Ended every vicious soul who’d caused them harm, and carried them here, where they were safe.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” Castellan said softly, coming to stand by Mora’s side despite her bidding him not to.
“You can fear me if you so choose.” Mora’s bright amber gaze hardened. “It won’t stop me from healing you.”
Wisps of onyx undulated in the air, close enough their frigid bite prickled the Elementalist’s skin. Mora flexed her fingers, willing her smoke to pounce.
The woman screamed, the sound so loud it bounced off the walls, echoing through the farmhouse—Mora nearly pulled away to cover her ringing ears.
A gust curled through the room, picking up papers and tossing them in the air, a set of knives clattering in their wooden stand.
Eris barked at them to not hurt his home, but it hardly mattered—none of the Halflings had enough power left to cause any real harm—they’d need to rest for a while before Eris had reason to worry.
Cool wisps caressed the air Elementalist’s skin, knitting flesh together while she attempted to scuttle away. Her back hit the cupboards, the doors shuddering against the cabinet with each of her quick, panicked breaths. It didn’t matter. The vapors followed, clinging to her until it was done.
Every cut, every bruise disappeared—there would be no scar to mark the cleaver’s violent path. At least, not that the eye could see. Mora could do nothing about the scars remaining in her mind.
With a shaking hand, the Elementalist dragged her fingers over her cheek, catching her breath, wide, green eyes watching Mora like one watched a wolf prowling in the woods.
It didn’t matter that she had been healed by Mora’s hands.
All she saw was a beast.
A monster.
Mora met that wary stare, the grin pulling on her lips anything but kind. “You could always say thank you.”
Those words never came. Not from her, nor from any of the other Halflings Mora healed. Though, at least there was no more screaming.
When she was done, Mora turned to Castellan, ignoring the pitying looks on Jade and Eris’s faces. “If you need me, I’ll be in the barn,” she spat, rising from her spot on the floor. Clenched fists shaking beneath her sleeves, sticky blood drying on her fingers.
“Mora...” Castellan pleaded, his voice that same soft velvet he’d used to calm her when she couldn’t breathe. She ignored him, knocking his shoulder as she passed.
She didn’t look back. Not when she turned the knob to the back door and wrenched it open, old hinges squealing. Not when she trekked through snow climbing past her knees, soaking into her trousers with each labored step. Not when Castellan called her name from the kitchen window.
Mora entered Eris’s barn, kicking loose strands of straw and wandering toward the stalls. Sinking to the floor in a musty corner, she hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes.
She needed a moment to breathe. To clear her mind. To deal with the weight of all of their judgement.
Splintered boards met the back of her head. It was hardly comfortable, though, it would do; at least the barn was quiet.
Until floorboards creaked.
“What do you want, Eris?” Mora quipped, eyes flying open.
It wasn’t a dark gaze watching her. Instead, Mora was ensnared by too-bright azure eyes.
Dother smirked, huffing a laugh through his nose. “I told you, Treasure,” he breathed, his voice quiet. Almost... tired?
Blinking several times, Mora clung to her bloodied sleeves, tremoring as her breathing quickened. Dother was dead. Dead, dead, dead. No matter how many times she whispered those words, however, that haunting stare refused to leave.
“What?” she finally snapped, hugging herself tighter. “What, pray tell, did you fucking tell me?”
“That you’d become the perfect queen to stand by my side.”
The next time she blinked, the apparition had disappeared, nothing but strewn bits of straw and dusty wooden planks left in his wake.