Chapter 8 - Shards of the Past

“Is she alright?” Allistor, the leader of the Brotherhood, asked his daughter, Mara. She looked up at him from where she knelt beside Morgan.

“From what I can tell, she is,” Mara’s voice was sweet and clear, like the tinkling of silver bells.

Mara was a widowed merchant's wife, her husband had been killed a few months before. She had mourned the loss of her husband greatly, but she was still happy, at least she pretended to be. Everyone in the Brotherhood respected her. She was like a mother to them all, even to her own father.

“What a way to spend the night with her new husband,” Allistor's voice was cross, whether from the events of the night, or the aforementioned husband being in his Sanctuary, was hard to tell.

“We should have known this would happen, eventually. Scholar's Keep has never been friendly toward us. This is exactly the opportunity they were looking for, a weakness in the kingdom.” Kylon seethed, his voice dripped with such contempt, his jaw clenched as he leaned against the wall. Anyone in the Brotherhood could tell why he was angry, it was no secret how he felt for Morgan.

“You can't blame her, Kylon. She's a princess. She has responsibilities outside of the Brotherhood,” Mara shot a glare at him as she gently dabbed ointments on Morgan's arms. The burns weren't severe, and she guessed they'd heal within a few days.

“Well it would have been nice for her to at least tell us she was getting married, don't you think?”

“If you paid any attention to the world around you, you would know it wasn't her choice, at least not the timing of it,” Allistor snapped. A few moments of silence passed, and he got up, leaving the room. Kylon closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

“I'll be back. I need more ointment,” Mara cleared her throat as she got up and left, leaving Kylon alone with Morgan. He cast a solemn look over her. Slowly he sank to the floor, with head in hands.

Flames danced in his mind's eye, screams ringing in his ears.

Demented screams rang in his ears as he dodged a bucket thrown his way.

“Stupid boy! You took everything from me!” His mother's shrill cry rose above the clattering of the bucket as it smashed against the wall of their hut. He shied away from her words, his small hands clenched at his sides. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, but he held them back, not wanting to give her another reason to hit him. He never understood why his mother was so angry, or why his father never came home from work.

He flinched as she flung a mirror towards him, barely able to dodge it as it shattered across the floor. She snarled, her breaths ragged. He knee he had to say something, but he was afraid.

“Mum please...” His voice trembled, and finally the tears overflowed. Ashamed, he looked down, unable to bear the rage building in her eyes. “You have to stop.”

“Come 'ere you little brat!” She lunged for him, and he didn't have time to react as she tackled him. He was too small to fight her away as she pinned him to the floor amongst the mirror's shards. A sob tore from his throat as she grabbed one of the shards, a malicious look in her eyes as she raised it above her head.

“No. No please,” He pleaded through tears. Orange flickering light glinted off the shard as she laughed. Behind her, he could see someone coming toward them, and he wanted to call out for help. He thrashed under her, his sobs growing more desperate, terrified.

Her laughter grew more wild as she plunged the shard towards him. In the same instance, a sword plunged through her chest, causing her to lurch forward. The shard missed its mark in his chest and sliced across his face. He screamed as pain ripped through his face, his eye.

His mother's body jerked back as the sword was yanked from it, toppling to the floor. He scrambled back, pressing a hand over his split face. As he looked up at his mother's killer, he saw a torch thrown down into the straw. Flames were spreading wildly across the hut.

“Well, come on then, kid. Unless you want a worse fate than hers,” The man said, holding a hand out to him.