The Conquest of Mytheyr
Chapter 11

You called Bas a Merax.” Vath said, an hour after they hadset off for what he said was the closest village, “What is that?”

“They’re children of Selipnir. The Merax are spirits thatcan take any equestrian form.”

“Selipnir, as in Odin’s horse?” Vath said in disbelief.

“That was given to him by Loki, yes. Don’t tell me you neverbelieved any of this. And I don’t mean just the Aesir, I mean the Dragonkin,too.”

“Well, I grew up believing it all was real. Every legend,every hero, every fallen race and every world. I just…. Never thought it’dhappen to me. I’m nobody.”

Morgansmiled to herself.

“Very few heroes are somebody before they’re chosen.”

Morgan hadbeen given some time to study her new companion as she followed him through thedesert. His legs were toned, and hishands strong. A knife user, judging by the calluses on his palms. That wasenforced by the fact he had no obvious weapons. His sleeves and boots couldeasily be hiding a long knife. His lack of back muscles told her that he didn’tuse a bow, and there were no crossbow marks on his hands. Maybe he could throwknives, but otherwise he had no ranged combat. He wore modest clothes, a tan, long-sleevedhigh-collared shirt and matching pants, all made of linen. He also had leatherboots with cuffs and a dark brown scarf. The only thing he wore that resembledarmor was leather cuffs around his thighs, which Morgan didn’t see the pointof. His white hair almost reached his waist. He also had a pleasing face anddeep purple eyes.

“Dayum,” Morgan muttered under her breath, “he’s kinda hot.”

“We’rehere,” Vath said, interrupting her train of thought. The village wasn’t much, ascattering of adobe houses and a trading post, set apart from the rest of thebuildings. There didn’t seem to be any kind of defense, which seemed odd toMorgan. Though plagues had wiped out any human or orcish raiders, surely therewere still dangers.

“Is this your home?” Morgan asked aside to Vath.

“I was born in a town, about a day from here.” Vathanswered, dismounting. “Come on, it’s rude to ride in a small village likethis. People will think we came to cause trouble.”

Morgan slidoff Caspian and grabbed a hold of his reins, leading him onto the main road.The results were immediate. People barely so much as glanced at them beforerushing into the nearest house. Vath looked side to side warily, but Morgan wasespecially on edge. Something else waswrong, something she could feel but not see.

“Three following us.” Morgan whispered.

“Five.” Vath corrected, “On the rooftops.”

“Eight, now. I think they’re thralls.”

“They’re what?”

“Dead bodies, and something is being forced to animate them.Necromancy.” Morgan clarified.

Silently,their pursuers made a rough circle around them. They were armored in standardDark Elven steel plate, and had curved single-edged swords.

“Military.” Vath realized aloud, moving back-to-back withMorgan and pulling out two small throwing knives that were hidden beneath thehem of his shirt. A silver bracelet that Morgan was wearing turned liquid,taking the shape of a sword before re-solidifying in her hands. Bas bared his bluntteeth at the closest thrall, while Caspian shied away. Morgan’s stallion couldhandle material foes, but the black magic they radiated told all his instinctsto run and never look back.

For Morgan,however, the sheer amount of black magic was disorienting. She saw where theywere with her eyes, but her mind told her they were elsewhere. The overload onher senses made her dizzy. The first thrall attacked, and she managed to stabhim, but barely swinging her body out of the way of another’s blow. She wasn’tused to fighting like this. Usually, her dragon’s sense told her where all herenemies were, but now it was clouded, telling her they were everywhere at once.She ignored it and focused on using her eyes and ears. She attacked swiftly andwith force, trying to incapacitate her target as quickly as possible, so thatthere’d be at least one less person she had to defend herself from.

Vath was noslouch, either. After taking two of them out with his throwing knives, hepulled an elvish long knife out of his boot. Since their weapons were longerthan his, he had to lure them close to him before he could strike, but hisdefense was a wall. He did his best to keep as many distracted and away fromMorgan as he could, then when she was in a position where she could take themon, he used some fancy footwork to force them to move to where she could attackthem.

Within minutes, though to Morganthey felt like hours, the thralls were finished. Morgan stood looking at thepile of bodies they had created. It made her sick, first the fact that thesewere elves she just killed, and second the unnatural magic that still hung inthe air. No, she didn’t kill them, Morgan reminded herself, they were alreadydead. Their bloodless wounds attested to that. She was going to throw up.

“Company.” Vath said, as peopleslowly came out, looking in awe at the two strangers. Vath glanced at Morgan,who looked like someone had just shoved a four day old fish under her nose.“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I will be.” Morgan coughed. “In a minute.”

“Excuse me.” said a male DarkElf, approaching them, “but who are you? Are you part of the conspiracy?”

“This conspiracy is a very badly kept secret.” Morgan said,forcing herself to straighten up and swallow back her bile.

“I’m Vath Burntbush.” Vath told him, trying to make up forMorgan’s rudeness, “This is Morgan Silversword. She’s not… from here.”

“Morgan Silversword…. Of the Dragonkin? The Great Lady ofIrideth?” he said in awe, and the people, hearing this, began to whisper amongthemselves, the gist of it being ‘I heard that she…’

“I’m not much of a Great Lady, but yes.” Morgan said. “I amhere to help you. But I need you to tell me what happened here. Who were thesepeople, how did they die, how did they become thralls and when?”

“Yes, of course, but please,” the Dark Elf answered, “youlook tired and unwell. We will tend to our dead, you will eat and bathe, andthen we will talk.”

He wasn’tasking, so Morgan nodded, and allowed herself to be led away. Vath was also ledaway, but a different family would be hosting him.