Escalation Tendency (4)

If I have to be honest, this trip proved to be just half the dreadful I imagined it to be.

I wasn't sure if it was because Morgan was easy to tease about due to her current circumstances or not. To prevent anyone from making a scene about the fact she was effectively wandering around despite the punishment she was meant to face, it was decided to give her a mostly different name and… it got her pissed off immensely whenever I brought it up or addressed her like that.

"Morgause please, there is no reason to glare at dirt," or "Dear Morgause, why are you kicking your feet like that? It's quite unbecoming for a lady of your stature."

That's what I would find myself saying most of the time as we proceeded smoothly through the journey. Blue eyes narrowed in a ferocious glare, lips twitching and puffing out in clear discomfort- I don't need to explain how I got one of the greatest 'evil witches' in British history to pout to this degree out of pure name-teasing. I could tell she plotted revenge right from the very moment I pushed her to adopt this very name she used and exploited for a while to hide her identity from her sister. Now, it was a shallow reminder of how things had changed, not necessarily for the best for her, and how that past was easily the knife's edge constantly pointed at her throat. It all sounded unpleasant, but this was deserved in most part. The only reprieve from that kind of 'torture' as she was willing to whine about from time to time was when Scathach decided to resume training sessions with me mid-trip.

In fact, this last bit was something that caught me off-guard completely… as it was all tied up to back when I met with Guinevere's father. King Leodegrance was everything the brunette had said he was. Big, jovial, but overall a direct, honest and, worst of all, a man that wasn't keen to speak highly of his son-in-law due to his treatment of Guinevere. Of course, the early meeting was one of pleasantries. The older monarch was happy to finally make the acquaintance 'with the fellow that Guinevere spoke highly of'. Everything was going great as I connected a fair bit with the burly guy's notion of family and how he was genuinely invested in his daughter's wellbeing and future. All was fine and normal, we even started to chat about Mordred, and how the child was definitely going to be a warrior from an early glance, which stole a chuckle from the big fellow as he imagined how things would have been had Guinevere taken that other path in life.

It was all fine… until Ria was brought up as a topic and things saw a sudden shift of temperatures for both sides.

"How can you defend him for not even giving the bare minimum to my daughter? He is unfit to be her husband."

"That's not a decision that is any longer yours to pick. I agree that Arthur can be absent at times, but it's not done out of spite towards his Queen-"

"As far as I'm concerned, he has no right to call her his queen!" Leondegrance barked fiercely, fist slamming on the table we were sharing. "That 'man' is far from what she deserves. And I'm appalled that you would still side by him-"

"I would like to remind you that I personally chided him as soon as I learned of this circumstance and how Lady Guinevere was quick to appreciate and point out that this was what she had been missing out on."

"My daughter-"

"Is still a queen, King Leondegrance," Another voice piped in, causing us to turn and look at a certain former queen. "Which, as far as the world is concerned about, is still capable of making decisions and pondering about divorce on her own, without the pressure of a parent that is unconsciously overstepping his boundaries."

Scathach's smooth entry wasn't liked by the bearded man, but Leondegrance didn't reply on the spot, surprised and awed by this development.

"Apologies, but I don't recall your king introducing you before now, my lady."

Oh my, isn't he a bit dead now?

"That's because 'my king' is not the one that has the prerogative to introduce me, but I do as someone that stands more as an ally than a subject. I'm Scathach, former ruler of Dun Scaith, the gate to the Land of Shadows."

His mouth opened, he froze up as his brain caught up to what he just heard and then he suddenly went super-quiet. It took him a solid minute to come up with a response, but until that point he was stunned and perplexed by this development.

"It's… an honor to meet you, Warrior-Queen."

"As I said, I'm no longer a Queen, King Leondegrance, but I can still instill wisdom through what I know of my former kingdom and what I deem to be correct behavior from King Joseph. Your daughter is the ultimate decision-maker of her destiny due to her current status," Scathach spoke up again. "And yes, I did take under consideration your own plight as that child of yours is seemingly neglected from what a servant or a spy would admit, and yet those eyes can't go beyond the privy chambers. If something happens there, if the queen is satisfied with what she got, then perhaps there is reason for her to not consider divorcing an option."

…

"I-I suppose it's fair."

No other words were exchanged on the subject, the rest of the conversation shifted back to the situation in Gallia, the Franks, and other possible trouble that could come out from any future issues with our new neighbors. Still, I would end up thanking Scathach for her assistance, something which saw her claim a demand from hers as a reward for that good work. A kiss I would willingly give her. And that's where things got a bit… difficult. I gave her that, and she was pleased by it from the way she just kept on smiling for a few days before we returned to Londinium.

Timeskip back to the present and how Scathach had really put an effort to 'claim her reward' by sparring me on a daily basis. There wasn't exactly a specific time to fight, either morning, mid-day or even midnight. A tedious journey, but one turned into that due to the teacher's interest to grind me to dust with her harshness. Morgan watched each session, even those late at night, blue eyes gazing intensely at the blurring figures, her gaze aimed predominantly at me as she was staring at my physique. Due to the heat of combat, it was best to ditch the upper-body clothes to prevent any heatstroke, giving her some eye-candy while I was struggling to not get my ass kicked by a bored Scathach.

At first I failed to grasp why the former warrior-queen would want to resume training sessions just like that despite how we came to the conclusion I had learned as much as I could from her, but then I realized that the woman had managed to find the key of success in the form of how the sleeping disposition were. Due to the chilling nights, I found myself sleeping in… awkward positions. The one that was the most common was where Morgan and I would sit one near the other with a tree's trunk behind us, while Scathach was… resting by my lap. She motivated the position as 'a way to protect me from any tricks from Morgan', but without being able to use magic, and her being unable to use any sharp objects, her degree of threat was fairly limited. A few days passed, and we soon managed to arrive at our destination, one of the many villages near modern day Coventry that had suffered the most frequent rate of attacks from the Mors.

We were greeted by the town elder, plus a couple of troops that had been mobilized to raise defensive walls and patrol the perimeter in case of new attacks. The situation was… bad. But not the worse as the losses in recent times had severely diminished, allowing for smarter patrols to be enacted to prevent any confrontations without having a large group of soldiers to repel the creature. Yet, as we were given a quick explanation of the situation, I saw Morgan stare at some of the corpses preserved with damages from the Mors. The girl stopped while looking at one in particular, this body having a greater injury compared to the rest right by its midriff. The witch's gaze was one of surprise and unease as she curtly requested one of the medics to give her some tools to retrieve part of the damaged tissue. One thing that made the wounds created by the Mors unusual was the small amount of residue of the beast remaining within the gashes it created. It was bluish in color, and it pulsed numbly within the wound, as if alive but… not. What caught the sorceress' attention was an anomalous color within this particular wound. It wasn't the usual blue, no it had some purplish pigments and a central section with red particles.

"What is that, Morgause?"

She didn't even question the naming situation, not when this was definitely something more important.

Her lips twitched in discomfort. "A problem."

She turned around once she had placed down the tissue, giving me a solemn look. "This isn't a normal Mors. For some reason, it's… transforming into something worse."

"I can perceive a connotation within this wound," Scathach spoke up with a quiet tone. "Is this… it feels like death incarnate."

"That's because it's turning into something that could be called as such. There is a reason why Mors are killed on sight by Faes. Their hunger does have a 'limit' within the state of natural things," Morgan explained. "If those creatures manage to consume a large amount of magical energy, they slowly 'shed away' the state of unknown which their form is tied to and becomes what one would define 'Mana Killer'."

"Is there a recent precedent?" I inquired with a serious tone, and Morgan nodded.

"I dealt with one in the past and I can say that we need to find it today or… we might not be able to stop it ourselves."

As much as I wanted to not believe that, I could tell from the pure dread crossing the usually calm witch's face that her warning wasn't delivered without some serious thought behind it. I wasn't aware that Mors could actually evolve, but it made sense that this phase would be something close to a bug turning into a butterfly. It was a chrysalis that was meant to acquire supplements before turning in something much worse. Something that, by Morgan's own experience, could potentially worsen the current magical decay and cause a massive decline the moment it reached 'completion'.

We had to stop it at once, and I was quick to set up an operation to effectively hunt down the entity before it had the opportunity to finish its last preparations. It was a long day, and the ensuing night was going to be even 'longer' considering what we were facing. Squads were reorganized, orders were delivered and once dinner was over, it was time to finally strike. A pale half-moon shone from above as we all ventured in the nearby forests, trying to search for the monster and put an end to this story for good.

I was about to be surprised as I would learn why Faes were reluctant to face this Mors in particular. And the reason was far from optimal for me.

It didn't take long for the hunting battalion to eventually stumble upon clues to where the beast was.

Hunters had been reporting some common patterns, making it easy to track down the beast and where it was going. Until now, it had helped prepare any defense for anyone that had strayed too far from the village, allowing for a serious reduction of victims with each attack. In this case, the trail of destruction it had recently left compared to the older tracks suggested it was getting frantic as its hunger was possibly growing more unstable and thus its body was so as it rushed to find easy prey to devour. Time was running out, and we had to find it and kill it as quickly as possible. Morgan started to scan around for anything that could have told us where it was and which path to take so we could go towards it while also avoiding an ambush.

It was either by pure luck, or perhaps the beast had perceived high amounts of magic energy from the three of us, but it soon jumped out in the clearing we were going through and I couldn't help but spend a moment to realize how different it was compared to the usual Mors. Its body was now a solid red hue, with black horns protruding through its forehead and around its head, forming a dark crown above its eyes. It didn't hesitate to strike, and it tried to attack Morgan first. A major mistake from the monster as numerous spikes of reinforced rock emerged from the ground and tore into its 'flesh'. It was a temporary damage as it shifted its form through the sharp ends of the rocks and resumed its approach.

A roar, Scathach blitzed and stabbed the monster right onto its head with two Gae Bolg. The lances pierced through with ease, but failed to once again create enough damage as the blades didn't pierce deep enough. It was regenerating fast, and I could tell that we had to hit hard and fast. Aurea Mors quickly drew energy to launch a strong enough blast to tear through its hide. 'Blood' spurted out, cyan liquid pouring profusely as soldiers rushed in to try and cauterize the wound with their torches. I had been told it could regenerate fast, so I had the troops carrying torches and oil to try and stop that process through fire. It worked for a while but… it soon proved to be a mistake as the fire didn't seem to work on the magical entity's flesh. It didn't cauterize and actually managed to use the fire to push away any sudden approaches as it properly healed back to full power. Despite that failure, I could tell it was already shedding away a lot of energy just to keep up with the pressure we were giving it. And I knew that if it wasn't a direct kill that claimed its life, then it would have been mana depletion.

I could tell the Mors could perceive this kind of issue, hence why it morphed its body again, turning in a sphere and suddenly spinning before rushing at high speed towards us. We split again, allowing the beast to slam on the trees behind us, but it was quick to recover and cut through the distance between me and it. I blasted at it again, this time severing a large chunk of 'flesh' off it while Morgan cascaded the wound with magical icicles. The combo had it hesitate, seemingly the pain catching up to it and I tried to actually get some killing hit to land. First I used Gamon's gauntlet to shift it off the ground by pushing it with wind, and then I struck vertically with my sword, cutting the beast in half.

It looked like I had actually landed a devastating strike, but someone forgot to tell me that this creature didn't have any inner organs, thus the only thing I did by splitting it in half was pissing it off further and setting me as its main target. It reformed quicker than before, rushing with more vehemence and actually trying to absorb me. I struck left and right, but it was moving too fast and arching too quickly to stop any effort to dodge straight away. It started to swallow me, but I didn't concede to it as Aurea Mors started to burn a light stronger than the usual one. It was one driven by pure fury and refusal. It rushed forth, and the blade impacted the beast-

The world collapsed in a powerful light that tore me off from reality and…

…

...

Where the hell am I?

I blinked, my eyes wide open as I found the light diminishing until I was introduced to a place devoid of noises and fighting. Pure whiteness spread left and right, up and down- I was in the middle of it and… Just now I realized that Aurea Mors was no longer in my hold. Actually, I had none of my equipment in reach as I was devoid of my usual armor and even enchanted gauntlet. Confusion and dread spread over my face, but it all faltered when I heard… sobbing. The noise echoed all around, but I managed to track down the origin of the sound back to… a shivering figure kneeling over the body of a young woman. Shoulder-length dark-red hair, the build was smallish and quite childish at a first glance. The woman on the ground shared the same attributes as the origin of the sobbing.

"M-Mama, don't go. I-I don't wanna-"

It didn't take me long to realize I was looking at the Mors itself, right before it turned. The thing is… was the deceased mother or the child crying over the body? I started to approach the sobbing kid to investigate further, the voice making it clear it was a little girl, but-

"Bwahaha! See? She is such a little crybaby! Her mama was a traitor and now she will definitely become one herself. Pathetic!"

Shadows appeared all around her, all of them brandishing weapons of various kinds. I wasn't happy by what I was looking at and the mood they were introducing themselves into.

"We should deal with her. She will turn like her deplorable human-loving mommy. Shame, what a shame… so much potential."

What?

I picked up the pace, but my rush was stopped when my eyes were blinded by a sudden flash of white that took me into a different place. It was similar to the forest where I fought the Mors, and this was the aftermath of what happened to the child. Laughs filled the clearing as the shadows, now with proper appearances, stared in delight at the limbless remains of the half-dead child. I was stunned by the sheer brutality, and I realized only now that these were Faes themselves. Some had wings, some didn't, and their common elements were pointy ears, devious grins on their faces and blood thirst evident on their faces as they handed out the cut limbs as if those were tree branches. Worthless things to treat as trash. I was… appalled. But then I was further shocked when something happened. The trees seemed to lose some of their 'luster' as numerous tendrils emerged from the little girl's body and easily ended the lives of those that had killed her. Their bodies were corrupt in a blue mold that easily spread from the tendrils over their bodies, consuming them from within. I was paralyzed while watching the entire sight and… then it formed. The Mors. Its empty eyes filled with just hollow pain mutedly staring at me.

I blinked again, this time I was back in that pure darkness of white. The shadows were there, but the girl had yet to be hit, to be subjected to that kind of horror. I didn't even doubt a single step I took as I rushed to punch the closest bastard. It barely had the time to react as my fist tore with ease through its non-existing head. Dropping its weapon, an axe, and allowing me to pick it up and turn it against the 'surprised' companions. I had an easy time dealing with them. While they were good with blades, they didn't have discipline or preparation to face me. Soon, I was standing alone, dropping the axe and finally dealing with what was left. Or who was left. The child had turned around, staring at the spectacle with clear horror at the suddenness of violence. But she remained quiet now that the silence was back and I had dropped the tool that could have maimed her. She still was tense, gray eyes keeping distrust as I approached and slowly knelt down before her mother's corpse.

I brought my hands up, joined them together, and I started to quietly pray. I got a close look of the dead woman. I saw something I had seen on my mother's face many times whenever I did something I was proud of. It was a content smile. She thought her daughter had been safe, that she had done it and that eventually the child would have made her proud beyond death. It was a chilling reminder that life was cruel. It was a horrible memento that the girl will never be able to

Staying there, I prayed for ten whole minutes. No voices, no sounds- I was just so numb at the entire scene that I needed to at least give her this much of my time and my actions. At first the child was perplexed by the sight, suspicious even, but she soon decided to join me in this act. We prayed together, her sobbing resumed, but it was more contained. Once the prayer was over, I glanced at her while she looked so tiredly at the dead woman's face.

"She wouldn't want you to hurt this much," I muttered softly, my words gaining her attention as her ears twitched in attention. "She fought and died so that you could find a happy ending."

"I didn't," The girl replied solemnly. "I hurt others."

"Because you were not in control. And because you were in pain."

"It's… I'm still a monster."

"No. You were turned into a monster and you were one until I found my way here," I argued kindly. "I don't really know how I got here, to have a conversation with you, but I can assure you that I will find a way to give you a chance."

She glanced at me, tears still rolling. "W-Why?"

"Because you don't deserve it. Your mother was right, I suppose- you should have gotten a happier ending."

…

"What is your name?" She asked meekly and I smiled, reaching out to pat her head. She looked ready to pull herself away from my reach, but decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. Her hair was soft, smooth as silk.

"Joseph. And I believe you're currently… lost?" I inquired, unsure how to consider her current situation. She no longer had a name or a purpose at the moment.

A slow nod, she lowered her gaze. "I'm nothing."

I huffed, ruffling her hair a tiny bit and getting her to whine a tiny bit, but still getting her full attention.

"You're 'something' as far as I can see. And you already have purpose from what I know of your love towards your mother," I argued patiently. "Tell me, do you still remember her? The good times with her?"

"Y-Yes?"

"And would you ever forget them?"

"Of course no!"

I smiled. "That sounds to me like a good reason. Living in her memory, to remember those times with fondness and make her last wish true. She wanted you to have a happy life after all."

…

"She… she did," The redhead admitted. "And- And I disappointed her."

"You didn't. You just reacted when you were no longer able to think straight. You reacted because you couldn't pick other options and you knew you had to live through that. You didn't want to die, because that would have been the worst disappointment in your eyes."

"Y-Yes. I thought- this- this is still bad."

"It is. But how will you solve this... Lyanna?"

Her mouth opened, but she stopped herself before giving out a possible answer. Her eyes widened, and she glanced at me with confusion.

"W-What did you call me?"

I gave her a sheepish look. "Well, I thought about a possible new name, just to Christen you with a new purpose. So I thought, considering your red hair and gray eyes, why not call you that? You do have the appearance of a Lyanna in my opinion."

…

She cried again, but not before actually reaching out and getting yanked in a tight hug. Lyanna eagerly burrowed her face onto my shirt, bawling her eyes out at the emotionally-packed moment while I caressed the back of her head.

"So… how about we go back? We stop your rampage and wake you up?"

Humming quietly and nuzzling close to my neck, Lyanna slowly nodded.

"Y-yes."

As if that was what was needed to break the seal, the world around us collapsed and we suddenly 'appeared' back where I had 'disappeared', the mass of the monstrosity dispelling as it all went deep within the little girl I was still holding close to me. I saw her shudder, the cold wind making me realize the child was … well, without any clothes. I bundled her up in my cloak and pulled us both up. I heard something rush at us, and I realized it was a worried Scathach.

"Joseph-"

"I'm fine- No, we are fine."

Her mouth opened in surprise, but soon she realized what I meant as she spotted the red-haired girl bundled up in my cloak. Lyanna looked up, glancing at Scathach with a degree of unease but… calmed down as I was at ease around her. Morgan walked up to the meeting, a curious look on her face as she stared in pure surprise at the child.

"This is unprecedented. A fae reborn from the state of a maturing Mors?" Her gaze turned annoyed as she stared at me. "You sure know how to break the rules of reality, King Joseph."

A pout was all she got as I took care of the little girl, rallying the men and walking up to the village before setting a plan for a trip back home. As I did, I paused a moment, turning to the side as I saw someone stare from the bushes. Multiple individuals, their energy pattern familiar as of recently. I didn't spare them any words, not when I realized what they were and what they could possibly ask for. Morgan noticed them too, but decided to hold back from saying anything as 'they weren't relevant'. Or they weren't to her until I described to her the tale of the child I was now considering my Ward as far as I was concerned. If before Morgan had reasons to dislike Faes, now she had a new one to outright hate their 'outdated and depraved society'.

Scathach listened to that tale too, and she too looked surprised that creatures of this kind would steep so lowly towards a child. And while these conversations unfolded, the quiet girl decided to take a nap. She was strained mentally, plus the late hour and the warm churro she was turned into made it possible for her to just fall asleep with her head resting on my right shoulder. One thing I could say for sure was…

Mya was going to be ecstatic to have another little girl to spoil.