Corvus Crown: Morrigan

Morrigan emptied her mind as she leaned back into the water of the hot spring. Her long crimson hair

flowed all around her head as she lounged, staring at the night sky and taking in the beauty of the stars.

After the days long battle her muscles throbbed to the beat of her heart and so she slid further into the

heated water. She would be fine within an hour. 

 

Dismay and irritation wove itself around her heart as the battle, the loss of her soldiers, surged up in her

mind once more. She couldn’t understand how they’d survived the center left line being wiped out in a

matter of minutes. Morale had plummeted in the aftermath, many of her troops scrambling to put some

semblance of order back in place. She knew the opposing side had some kind of caeles the moment her plan

had been torn asunder within the first hour of battle. She found it irksome that they would use majik when it

was humans fighting on both sides.

 

Humans were weak, both in mind and body, always craving destruction. Of all that is other and then of

themselves when they ran out of outside dangers. She knew some worshiped fae, like her, thinking they

were gods. Though she could never trust such a misguided faith, many warriors looked to her, sought her

blessing on the battle fields. They wanted her to take their souls as they perished as though she were one of

the fates.

 

She sunk deeper into the water, letting it cascade over her face as she was submerged and closed her eyes

against the day. She sighed, feeling bubbles escape above her, found her footing and stood. If she didn’t get

out at that moment, she was likely to fall asleep and drown. Water dripped from bare skin, her curls undone

by the weight, covered her breasts as she slid her fingers through to get out any lingering knots. She stepped

out of the pool, gathering her shirt and draping it on, grimacing as it clung to her, soaking up the water.

 

“Lonán.” She called out to her familiar, looking through his eyes to see the camp. The soldiers were so

exhausted, the night watch was half asleep where they stood, one man leaning against his spear so

precariously he was on the verge of falling. If they were attacked now, it would be all over. She sighed as

she pulled on her pants, all the towels had been turned to strips for bandages. She carried her boots,

unwilling to struggle with them as she went back to her tent to dawn her belt and sword. She planned to end this now, her troops deserved better. Her lover was fast asleep, still in her uniform. She leaned over and

planted a soft kiss to her golden brow, Aisling so exhausted she didn’t stir.

 

Morrigan stalked from the camp, her raven familiar gliding next to her. None of her soldiers noticed her as

she slipped out of their territory and made her way across the battle field proper. She grimaced, worry

knotting its way through her stomach. She encountered a few scouts and dealt them instant blows. There

was no need to use her majik to find them and she curled her lip at the ease of it. There was no fun in simple

slaughter. Lonán soared higher, giving her the layout of the troops she was to face, which ones may have

been able to escape had she not noticed them. Through his eyes she watched an enemy trying to creep up on

her and she allowed him to get close. She listened to his fumbling footsteps as he got closer and closer.

When she heard his blade move, as he readied to attack, she spun on her heel and placed a hand against his

cheek, siphoning his life. Her muscles no longer ached and she breathed deeply of his demise. She

continued on into the heart of the empty camp, slaughtering any she came across with a single blow and no

thought. She left the soon to be dead alone in their tents, no reason to hasten their paths when they’d

succumb to the prior battle on their own. 

 

A captain found her once she edged the center of camp and a feral delight filled her to the bone. All the

lives she’d stolen on her path left her abuzz with energy. “It was stupid of you to come alone.” The captain

charged at her as she watched with baited breath, a few foot soldiers following suit. 

 

Her laugh was a melody that would have haunted the soldiers for decades if they’d survived. “Where is the

caeles?” She frowned at the confusion that slid across their faces. She blocked the swing of one blade with

ease, dodging one and draining another in the process. One of the remaining four managed to land a blow to

her bicep and she hissed as the blade slid through her skin. She plunged her own sword through his stomach

in response, dancing out of reach of the captain as they brought theirs down in a straight arch. She grinned

wildly as the light faded from the eyes of her victim, Lonán catching the soul before it escaped the field.

She grabbed the throat of another soldier that charged her, thinking her distracted. She lifted them from the

ground, a scream of fear coming from one that collapsed from back peddling too quickly. 

 

The captain halted a moment, staring at her clean, smooth arm. “You heal as fast as he does.”  He put up his

guard, glaring at her hand that crushed the neck of his comrade before letting the body fall.

 

“Who is he?” She tilted her head as she held eye contact. 

 

Shouts rang throughout the camp as more soldiers appeared, circling in on her. She grinned, her preferred

setting of a battle coming together, everyone coming at once so she could end it all the faster. She realized

that some of the shouts were a name, called over and over like a demand and a prayer wrapped into one.

She smirked, that must be her real opponent. The captain couldn’t stop her from wiping out the entire

battalion in a matter of minutes. She didn’t have to hold back if there would be no witnesses. 

 

She could feel the majik creep along the ground as the true threat made it’s way to her. The captain gave all

his effort for a final blow, his sword held high, and Morrigan removed his head before he could even begin

his downward arch. Delicious power wrapped around her, causing a shiver to course through her. “What

makes you think we haven’t sent reports of this back to the main host?” A soft low voice drifted through the

bodies. 

 

“No one would believe the report.” Morrigan watched the figure come into view, a subtle layer of fog

hanging around their ankles. A woman by the simple green dress that was draped over blue-tinged skin. She

was slight, her wild hair a tangled mess as it floated around her head. The stranger took a deep breath and

Morrigan barely covered her ears before the unearthly scream shattered the area. “Well, that explains a lot.”

She glared at the banshee. “I’m surprised you’re alive.”

 

“More of my kin exist than you’d like to think.” Another scream burst from the woman, a gust of hard air

knocking Morrigan back a few feet. It stole her breath away as it hit her square in the stomach. She was

pissed, she couldn’t wield her sword and cover her ears at the same time.

 

“Why are you fighting with these humans?” She grimaced as she sheathed her sword, contemplating her

next move.

 

“Why do you fight with yours?” The banshee eyed her with distrust, noting her fae features. “I get rid of

you, my home will be off limits to the rest of their little empire. Prosperity for my clan is within reach.” The

woman knelt, gathered a deep breath as her hands came up to her chest in a prayer like motion. Morrigan’s

lip twitched in irritation, she hadn’t dealt with a banshee in centuries. Most of them had been hiding

themselves away, both in city and nature, or being slowly eradicated by humans and caelestes alike. They

were symbols of fear, their destructive sorrow and melancholy too much for others to handle. 

 

Lonán let out a cry, taking himself higher on a gust of wind, as out of the way as possible. Morrigan

covered her ears, taking three giant leaps back as the banshee started to sing. Long loud notes carried over

the bodies that littered the camp center, brining the death song to caress Morrigan. The banshee sang death

into some of her soldiers, the last to join the fray, taking them out within minutes of hearing the song.

Morrigan almost felt bad to be pit against someone so useless against her, even humans stood a better

chance. Her own majik was death and singing it to her would not result in her demise. Death was a good

friend of hers. 

 

She dropped her hands and stalked her way back, smirking as the song faltered, fear etching its way into the

banshee’s heart. An immense sadness lodged itself into her chest, the pain flowing along with the melody.

She struggled to stand straight as a sob forced itself from her, her body slowly trying to shut down.

Morrigan wailed, keening against the death of her soldiers, mourning everything that had ever saddened her

during her long life. Every grief she’d ever held slammed into her at once, her sobs the drum of the song. It

engulfed her so completely, her anger couldn’t surface a flicker. Lonán swooped down and landed on her

head, digging his claws into her scalp. He let out a loud series of discordant caws, going against the melody

and breaking its rhythm. It blocked just enough from her that she could suck down a breath, forcing the

wracking sobs to still.

 

Morrigan stood, Lonán still yelling his defiance at the banshee. She wished she had her bow, even if she

wasn’t as proficient as with her sword. She charged, gripping the banshee’s hands as the woman fell back,

not accustomed to anyone breaking from her spell. Morrigan pulled on the banshee’s life force, as a caeles it

required more effort than draining a human. Both death dealers locked into a struggle that lasted a good

hour. Their majik clashed so violently that the entirety of the remaining camp slipped from life. Death was

so quiet, neither noticed the stillness that took over. Morrigan managed to kick the banshee hard enough she

had a moment to grab her sword. She raised her blade and her ragged breathing made her stagger a step

before bringing it down into the heart. “You are the perfect mourner, but all grief must come to an end.” She

twisted the blade, feeling no joy as the light dimmed slowly from bright tearful eyes. She let out a breath,

hating that the keening sound still rang in her ears. The sun peeked over the horizon, blinding her a moment

before she turned her back on it. She wiped the blood from her blade and returned it to its sheath. “Let us

return, Lonán.” The raven cawed its agreement, taking to the sky in a single wing beat. Crows sang out in

the stillness, descending from the ebbing darkness to feast upon the dead.

 

Morrigan returned to her tent, placing her sword belt on the table in the center of the space, and discarded

her clothes before falling into her bed of linen and furs. Without waking, Aisling slid an arm around her and

nuzzled closer. Not long after Morrigan had fallen into deep restorative sleep, the camp erupted in cheers.

They had found the enemy dead and knew it had been her. They always knew though she’d never told nor

been seen. They saw that Lonán guarded the entrance to her tent and left her to rest. 

 

Morrigan woke alone to screams, her heart thundering in her chest as the sounds of slaughter. She hastily

put on her clothes, not bothering with the shoes as she charged out of her tent to see the camp ablaze. No

one near her tent had been left alive and her mind raced trying to figure out who could be attacking them,

who would have known. She skidded to a halt once the long feast table came into view, her soldiers pilled

upon it. They had been setting up for her…

 

She blinked at the masculine laughter that came from the other side, another body being tossed up and onto

the pile. She snarled, her anger flaring so hot she was trembling, “Who the hell do you think you are?”

 

The laughter stopped, an uneasy silence lingering until he slowly poked his head over a low  spot on the

side. “Morrigan?”

 

“Neit?”

 

Her brother-in-law shrank back, the amusement long gone. “I-I didn’t know it was you. Didn’t know it was

your camp.” He dropped back down to where she could only see the top of his dark auburn head. He had to

be the one the captain had mentioned. She hadn’t thought twice about the sentence once she started fighting

the banshee. “You killed Kleana?” He brought her attention back to him.

 

“Was that the banshee?” She stood straighter, not certain if she wanted to out right kill him or just beat him

senseless.

 

“Aye…” He looked at a loss of what to do. They both stared at one another. “Are we to fight then?”

 

“You slaughtered-”

 

“Aye, as you did mine!” He huffed at her, coming around the table so they could face one another properly.

She frowned, hating that he wasn’t wrong. 

 

“Fine, we fight.”

 

“Nemain will not be ok with that, even less so if we kill each other.” He invoked his wife’s name like it would save him.

 

“What makes you think you can kill me?” She raised a brow at him and his face scrunched in irritation.

“She’d be less pleased with us avoiding a fight and you know it.” She twirled her sword, ready to get on

with it. A careless smile came over him, his attraction to danger making him pull his own sword. 

​

“I knew it had to be someone strong to get past her, to break away from the queen, but to think it was you of

all people.” He charged at her, noting the pause she gave at his words. She hadn’t meant to further the race

into extinction. She dodged his blow, nearly tripping on fallen equipment. She should have put her boots

back on, the thought pulled more ire from her as she noticed the various blades littered across the field.

Lonán screamed from up high, gathering what he could to channel into her. Guilt passed through her being

as she took in the last bits of life from her soldiers, but let it go as quickly as it came. She didn’t have time

for processing her emotions. He charged her again and she met his blade with hers, her arms barking as they vibrated with the hit. She gritted her teeth, sending her thoughts to her familiar. She couldn’t even kick Neit, his armor covered in small spikes. The raven raced back to her tent. 

​

“Why are you fighting with a force that kills our kind?” She was tired of humans thinking they could take her entire race on once they discovered a poison they could use against them.