The Conquest of Mytheyr
Chapter 13

Morgan hated the desert during the day. But it wasn’t so badat night. The sky was clear, and thousands of stars shone brightly,illuminating the night. The air had cooled, and Morgan even shivered sometimes.She sat in the sand at the edge of their hastily made camp, pluckingthoughtfully on a guitar. Morgan did not know the constellations of this world,so she created her own, tracing the shapes with her eyes. She began to singsoftly, changing the melody she played on her instrument to better match thewords.

She wasafraid to sleep. Her dreams had taken a toll on her magic, twisting its threadsinto knots and ugly snarls. She had developed a seemingly permanent mentallethargy that made it hard to concentrate; she had to force herself to focus onanything. She had done a good job hiding it from Vath, but they had only beenin another’s company three days. He was bound to notice soon. Teren, who seemedto be more perceptive, had already been giving her concerned looks. Morgan knewexactly how Raven would react when they reached her. She would see what waswrong immediately, and she would tell Morgan off. Then she’d get Marine on herside, and Marine would scold her like a mother.

Morgan shook the thoughts from herhead and threw herself into the song, pouring all her soul and emotions intothe notes of the guitar and the rise and fall of her voice. Unknown to her,Vath was pretending to be on guard duty on the other side of camp, looking upat the constellation he knew to be called the Rider. A camp with twenty-eightpeople isn’t that big, especially an elvish camp composed of three tents thatwere magically altered to be bigger than they looked to be on the outside, soof course he heard Morgan’s singing. He couldn’t see her from where he was, asshe was behind the tent farthest from him. He didn’t know why, but he made hisway over, until he stood behind her, just listening to her sing.

Morgan heard the sand shift underhis weight, and she turned around to see who it was. Vath was somehow almostdisappointed when her song stopped.

“Hey,” she said, barely audibly.

“Can’t sleep?” Vath asked, and she shrugged in way ofanswer. “Can I… sit with you?” he asked sheepishly.

“Sure.” Morgan nodded. Vath came over and sat cross-leggedbeside her. He turned his head up to the sky, and Morgan watched the expressionof his face awhile, playing a scale absentmindedly. His face was smooth, hiseyes open in a peaceful, reminiscent state of mind.

“So what’syour story?” Morgan asked, silencing the stings and leaning forward to look athim.

“What?” Vath said, pulling himself out of his thoughts, andprocessing her question. “What story?”

“You know how to soul read, right? Or you at least have anidea what it is.” Morgan looked at him expectantly, and he realized she waswaiting for an answer.

“Uh… yeah. My dad told me about it. He said… it was… no, itwas that all Elves could see it, but it was about knowing how to read it.” Vathsaid, trying to remember what his father said. Morgan nodded.

“That’s exactly what it is. Well, in your eyes, I seesomeone who had something life changing happen to them, but it only happenedonce. Otherwise, nothing else has happened since. Like you’re waiting for theworld to replace you. I think that it probably explains why you wander alone inthe desert instead of living in a town with friends and family.”

There was along period of silence, until Morgan leaned back and began strumming cordsagain.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, I…” Vath said awkwardly, mentally kicking himself forhis obliviousness. “No, it’s alright. I mean…” he tripped over his words,realizing she had just said that. “It’s not much of a story. My town isn’t bigor well known or anything. I uh, had a human friend, who died in the firstyears of the plague, but he was like, eighty at the time so… and um, it’s notreally that the Burntbushes died out, but there weren’t many of us to beginwith. We were a mostly human family, only a few pure elves, like my dad, me anda few aunts and uncles. But, most of my cousins died. Only the ones who weremostly Elf survived. Well, I guess that means we did die out. Anyway, I wasn’treally… close… to any of them. I spent too much time trying to be like my dadto get to know them.”

“What about your dad?” Morgan asked, her voice making itseem like an innocent question, though her motive was slightly less so.

“He was a Ranger. Always told the best stories. I learnedall the legends from him. One day he got bit by a sand snake, and he died. Itook Bas and left. I haven’t been back since.”

Morganpondered this information a bit, and asked one last question.

“What about your mother?”

“She died,” Vath said, “but Dad would never tell me how. Inever knew her.”

Morgannodded silently. A Canteior was onlycreated when the mother died before the child was born. The only other Canteiorshe knew of was a prince whose mother died of an illness even magic couldn’tcure. The child had to be cut out and kept alive with magic for two weeks.Morgan herself had done this.

“You know…”Vath started, unsure of how to finish, “you didn’t have to stop. I like yoursinging.” Morgan laughed softly and started the song over again. The breezetugged at the stray hairs of her braid, and her face seemed to light up as shesang. Vath looked at her, and thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.

Realizingwhat had just passed through his head, he quickly looked away. He just focusedon the music, and tried to block everything else out.

As the songended, she allowed the last chord to keep ringing until it died out. Silencecrept in, creating a somber mood.

“That song was a little sad,” Vath said, trying to break thequiet. “Especially the part about the ones who were left behind.”

“Well, it’s not an elvish song,” Morgan said, her voice faraway,“But I always imagined that part to be about the Forgotten Elves. You ever hearabout the worlds who forget the nature of magic? There’s this one race of HighElves who became downright cruel. Their immortality fades, and their lifespanshortens until they only live a few hundred years. They think they’re sosuperior to the humans, but they have no idea what they once were.”

Vathnodded, not really knowing what to say, but not wanting to end theconversation. Morgan, however, stood up and dusted sand off her tunic. Herinstrument turned to liquid silver and became a bracelet, settling on herwrist.

“I should at least try to sleep a little.” she said. “Night,Vath.”

“Good night.” he said, strangely disappointed.

Morgantossed in her cot all night, still afraid to sleep. She finally gave up at thecrack of dawn, just as the sun began to show itself. She rummaged in hersatchel, and found what any 21st century citizen would recognize asa permanent marker. She uncapped it and drew the glyph for the Dark element onher left wrist, then switching hands so she could draw the glyph for Light onher right. On the base of her throat, she drew the glyph symbolizing the magicthat only dragons used, muttering in Draconic to compete the spell. She pulledup her collar to hide the mark, and went out to rejoin the others.