Chapter 25
Mora
Ice clung to Mora’s fingers, the pain sinking through her flesh all the way to the bone.
She flexed her hand, hissing when it made the ache worse.
But that didn’t stop her. Her cloak was filthy, smeared with so much blood, not a patch of ivory remained.
She clung to the fabric and brought her shaking hands back to the cobblestones, doing her best to wipe away every drop puddling there.
“We need to leave, Mora.” Castellan’s voice was soft, but they both knew it was a command. She’d ignored him long enough.
Unfortunately for him, she had no interest in breaking her silence.
And no intentions of moving before she was done.
She focused on the sting in her knuckles and the way her nails caught against her cloak’s soft fabric as she swiped it over frozen cobbles and hard snow.
The pain an anchor. Keeping her afloat despite Dother’s endless yammering in her head.
“I second that sentiment,” Eris added, rubbing his hands together. Peeking at the burning thatch strewn at the base of a ruined shop. “Unless someone wants to warm up with me near the fire?”
Mora rolled her eyes. She could feel the way he watched her. Knew it was some feeble attempt to get her to go with him. Or, at least, to say... anything.
The Halflings gave them a wide berth, tending to their wounds under the careful watch of a tree, Imani’s one remaining creation, apart from a mass of slithering roots and sticks scattered throughout the square.
Their bark was torn and stained with death.
Crisp, verdant leaves were tossed by a frost-woven breeze, an odd sight in the midst of winter.
How long before they withered and tumbled down to join the dead?
Whispers slipped between branches, the words too quiet for Mora’s ears.
It surprised her they’d remained, somehow swayed by a few quick words from Eris.
Mora couldn’t be sure how he’d managed it—she hardly remembered deciding to rid the cobbles of her blood, distracted by the torturous pounding in her skull.
Though, his charm seemed endless. And they clearly cared for him.
Perhaps Mora shouldn’t underestimate him.
When she peeked up from her frozen fingers, amber eyes piercing through bloodied branches, Mora could see them.
The gentle smile on Jade’s lips. The stern wrinkle on Imani’s forehead.
Both of their eyes were soft, glimmering with unshed tears and a devotion Mora knew well.
She’d seen it many times before, in the quiet moments she’d glimpsed between her parents.
Mora’s chest shuddered. Each inhale wrought with a furious, eternal grief she could hardly contain. It saturated her soul, clinging to her as surely as Dother’s curse.
She slid her dark curls over her shoulder, the ringlets a curtain to block them from view and spare her from the ache in her heart.
Returning her focus to the bloodstains, shifting on her knees so she could scrub harder.
Streaks of gold snaked through sanguine, slipping between broken cobbles as if in search of the earth, the color much like that of the drink Dother had gifted her.
Perhaps it was. A gilded liquid swimming in her blood. Gnawing at her veins. Damning her eternally.
“We don’t have time for this,” Castellan grumbled. He moved closer, reaching for her cloak, as if she’d allow him to pull it away. Mora slapped his hand.
“Leave me.” Her low voice promised violence.
Castellan rubbed at the sting, backing away. “We need to get the Halflings to safety before more people find us.”
His wish disagreed, the binding magic purring softly in her chest.
Any threat to the Halflings’ safety had escaped or faded into the afterlife, their remains spread across the market square.
Torn apart by trees. Mottled gray skin frosted over and sticking to the cobbles.
Some were covered in blisters, as if they’d been burned, though not by fire—the work of the Aegist, perhaps?
Regardless, no threat remained and Castellan hadn’t chosen a safe space to bring them to. So, Mora ignored his demand and continued frantically—pointlessly—cleaning.
When she said nothing more, he bowed his head, curls tumbling over his face like a golden aura.
Eris knocked his friend’s shoulder with his own, an easy smile on his lips. “Isn’t it my job to worry?”
“You’re surprisingly calm.”
Humming in agreement, Eris nodded toward Mora. “She’s a fierce one. We’ll be fine.”
Mora almost snorted, but she managed to keep her composure. Something softened within her, the whisper of Dother’s fingers around her waist—the gods damned belt—felt looser. Less present. Tension drained from her shoulders, fresh air filling her lungs. An easy breath.
Though, she couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching her. Imani’s tree groaned, boughs reaching toward an alley, and Mora’s focus followed. A hum in the air, an ethereal song, called to her. Promising haven. The temptation to follow agonizing to deny.
It was so much like her dream.
Her lips parted, the soiled fabric of her cloak soaking into her tunic as she pressed a hand to her heart. With narrowed eyes, she scanned the dark space... but found nothing.
Because there is nothing and I am going mad.
An icy breeze brushed against her, licking her exposed skin and coaxing goosebumps to the surface. Mora shivered. Curled her arms around herself and looked away, ignoring the call of a song she knew wasn’t truly there.
With a heavy exhale, Castellan scrubbed a hand over his face. “Is your family safe?” he asked Eris. Dark circles stained the skin beneath his eyes, a flush across his cheekbones, deepening the swollen, red bruise on his cheek.
The joy drained from Eris’s expression, his lips dipping into a frown.
“I got them out.” His attention drifted eastward, as if he could see past overturned market stalls and through brick-framed alleys, all the way to the glittering waters of the Northwrenn Strait.
“Port Darford was a mess; without your coin, I don’t think I could have bought them safe passage. ”
Castellan nodded solemnly. “May the Gods guide them to Eldenna.”
“I can never thank you enough. For helping me take leave, and for the money.”
“It was nothing.” Castellan reached into his cloak pocket and pulled a dagger free, sapphires glittering on its pommel. “Here, I grabbed this from the castle for you.”
Eris stared down at the blade for a moment, lips parting as he grabbed the handle, but a cry of pain pulled their focus. Even Mora stopped her frantic cleaning to follow the source of the sound.
Tears streamed down Jade’s face, spilling over her cheeks to soak into her olive cloak. “It hurts,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her swollen eye.
Imani moved back as if she’d burned her love, a bloodstained handkerchief dangling between clenched fingers. “I know, angel. I know.” She blinked away tears before slowly embracing Jade and pulling her close. Ruddy brown eyes settled on Mora. A threat burning within them.
The strong columns of Eris’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “I’ve stayed true to my word, Cas. Everything we talked about...” He hesitated, watching the Halflings. Brows furrowing. “I’ll help you save Berwick.”
Castellan’s shoulders drooped. He looked behind them, back to the snow-ridden alley still tarnished by Elodie’s footprints, worrying his bottom lip. “Do you know what happened to the Aegist?”
Mora scoffed. “Before or after he stabbed me?”
“He what?!” Castellan’s features hardened, muscles flexing in his jaw, fingers tracing the silver filigree on his sword’s pommel.
“I’m glad he did,” Imani muttered, though not quietly enough. As Jade shushed her, Mora wondered if she’d wanted to be heard.
Jade gently wiped at her wet cheeks with her torn sleeve. “He wandered off,” she said, throwing Mora an apologetic glance. Whatever she found on Mora’s face made her flinch.
“I heard you say you didn’t know him.” Mora turned on her knees to better face them all. “Why risk your lives for a stranger who attacked unprovoked?”
Jade smiled sadly. “We survive together or we die.”
“I’m a Halfling. Your partner seems uninterested in my survival.”
“You aren’t one of us,” Imani growled.
“Aren’t I?”
“Look around you, Princess.” She spat the title out as if it were sour, the word an insult to her tongue. “You don’t get to stand with us once and decide we’re the same. You know nothing about suffering.”
A quiet, bitter laugh slid free from Mora’s lips. Her fingers curled in her cloak, pulling the material into her fist until blood stuck to her palms. Threads tugged on broken nails; the sting made her laugh louder.
“Uh, Princess?” Eris asked, cocking his head to the side.
The beast within her writhed in her chest, pushing ever higher until it clawed up her throat. “I know nothing about suffering.” Mora repeated the words slowly, tasting them as she set them free.
“Maybe we should leave?” Jade breathed, a slight quiver to her voice.
Mora rose, the movement slow, like that of a creature who’d tumbled out of a nightmare, eyes aflame with wrath.
Power writhing within their ominous glow.
Eris sucked in a breath, taking a step back, nearly tripping on a stray branch.
He gripped his dagger in his left hand, and reached for the sword hanging from his belt, a twin to Castellan’s.
“I will not pretend to understand your life, Imani. Nor will I lie about what the Crown has done; you have every right to hate my family.” Mora took a single step closer, unfurling her cloak and staring down at the now crimson fabric.
Imani slid in front of Jade and squared her shoulders, moving back until the tree shielded them both, but Mora didn’t miss the way she trembled.
A joyless, sinister smirk twisted on Mora’s face, her voice dipping low. “But you do not get to assume what I do and do not know of suffering. You may yet have the chance to live a free life. I will never have the luxury.”
Harsh, disbelieving laughter taunted Mora from the other side of the ash tree. “Because of a throne you intend to reclaim?” Imani asked.
“Because I am little more than a relic!” Mora shrieked. “An Enchanter’s...” She swallowed against the acid coating her tongue, hating herself. “... Treasure.”
“Mora...” Pity saturated Castellan’s tone. She couldn’t fucking stand it.
Fury threatened to consume her—Mora’s fists bunched, her breaths quickening to short, hurried gasps.
It was too much. The weight of their stares.
Whispers of Dother’s touch lingering on her hips, his voice flitting through her mind.
The press of her gods damned smoke. As if a creature paced beneath her skin, ready to gnaw through flesh and bone if it meant their escape.
“If you’d like to repay the Crown for the pain it caused, you are welcome to join the Aegist and make me bleed.
But I will never die, Halfling. No matter what you or anyone decides to do to me.
” Turning back to her mess, now little more than a few bloody streaks, Mora slammed her cloak back on the ground.
“Take peace in knowing the last remaining part of the Crown you abhor knows suffering you couldn’t imagine. And it will never let her go.”
Oh, Treasure. Dother’s ethereal touch twisted around her neck, cinching with such ferocity she choked on air. Have you finally accepted your fate?
Castellan turned to Eris. “Take the Halflings and return to your farmhouse. We’ll meet you there.”
His eyes widened. “You’re certain?”
The gallant knight dipped his chin in confirmation.
“Aye, aye, Captain.” With a mock salute, Eris pulled away, his black boots crunching on the ice. Moving toward Mora.
Before he could say a word, Castellan’s voice cut through the howling winds. “Leave her, Eris.”
Mora didn’t look up as he walked away, too fixated on the building pressure in her lungs. Sipping on air. She reached for her cloak, scrubbing the ground one final time before picking it up and slinging it over her shoulders. A bloodied cape fit for a monstrous queen.
“Are you well?” Castellan’s voice was quiet, the same soothing tone he used whenever she panicked.
Mora chuckled under her breath, her focus sweeping over the dead one final time. Absorbing the true weight of what she’d done. “Do I look well?”
“You look foolish.” The words were cruel, but he spoke them softly. Gently. Was it out of kindness or fear?
A sad smile tugged at Mora’s lips. “I look murderous.”
“And that’s a good thing?”
Sun rays pushed through the muted gray sky, bits of warmth dancing on Mora’s golden brown skin.
She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, relishing the soft touch of heat on her frozen cheeks.
The pain in her throat eased. Mora inhaled softly, the thick, coppery scent of death flooding her lungs until she could almost hear Dother’s last breaths.
I never wanted this, he panted beneath her, his blood clinging to her flesh. Enveloping her in his death and shielding her from his touch.
Dother was gone, killed by a monster in the night.
Monsters evoked fear in the hearts of those who dared to stand against them.
Monsters ended those foolish enough to bring them harm.
Monsters survived.
Even if they had to destroy themselves to do it.
“Yes,” she breathed, pulling her ruined cloak tighter around her shivering body. “It’s a great thing.”