The Soul of Morrighan

My mouth tastes of acid and ash. The bile from retching until I passed out lingers like a stray dog at closing time. There is a crust that has formed over my eyes gluing them shut. I guess that’s what happens when tears mix with soot and dirt. Even after grinding it away, all I see is darkness. As the haze starts to dull to an annoying buzz in my brain an explosion far more internal goes off. Surilda. Where is she? I feel like a naked sand mole clawing through debris and the shattered lives of those that lived here, desperate to find her. Desperate to keep my promise.

Emerging from the rubble of what used to be a quaint little town where no one asked questions, I try to force my throat to make noises. Anything reminiscent of a voice. A squeak is all I get. A miniscule pitiful squeak when I should be screaming for her. The more air I attempt to force into my lungs the more they burn and ache with their new layer of char, but I have to find her. As my eyes adjust to the destruction before me I can’t help but fall silent, slack jawed and wide eyed. The Projectors had sought us out before. They had found us before. They had never gone this far. Surilda...

Finally enough saliva manifests in my mouth to call out to the only person in the world that could end this. The only person that possesses the strength and ability to contain The Soul of Morrighan. “SURILDA!” I scream to what seems to be an endless sea of black smoldering death. Nothing could have survived, especially such a delicate little bird. I did though. Someone worth nothing without her shadow, someone who should have died a thousand deaths protecting her. To my left I hear something other than ringing after what seems like an eternity. Something that sounds like a mouse eating what’s left of the insulation inside a wall. Turning fast enough I can feel my spine wrench against my injuries, I dive into the rubble head first. Reaching. Reaching for the last shred of hope any of us has. Her hand is like a magnet, I can feel it drawing mine closer searching for where it belongs. Grasping for safety.

As I draw her mostly limp body from beneath a smoking beam her icy blue eyes glow against our inky surroundings. They meet mine and for a moment and it feels as if the world around us stops. We are not in the midst of chaos. My boots aren’t melting under my feet. We are next to a calm creek somewhere enjoying a beautiful quiet day. Until the sun breaks through a cloud of smoke and catches the matching chilly blue stones on her heart shaped locket, I am snapped back to reality. We have to go. The Projectors will start searching soon, if they haven’t already, and there is nowhere left to hide from their bombs here. “Clo” she whispers “Clo, don’t let them take it.” Surilda loses consciousness in my arms as I make my way toward the nearest scraggly tree line out of open firing range. Here I can fashion a small adult size sling out of what was left of a curtain and strap her to my back. Since making my promise to keep Surilda safe at all costs I have found taking the verbal lashing for carrying her like a child is far less painful than traveling as fast as her slender legs can carry her.

East is the way we will go. East, where our last and final hope lies deep in The Skirts. On the very edge of The Projectors’ reach. On the border of lawlessness and pure carnage. The only place where Surilda can ensure The Soul of Morrighan remains out of the hands of a maniacal warlord. The last place on this toxic dusty rock that hasn’t been decimated by bombs or sucked dry by generations before us. If we can move fast enough to outrun those that hunt us we can save what’s left of humanity. If I fail to deliver Surilda to The Shrine of The Banshee, The Projectors will wield a power beyond measure. With the snap of a finger this existence would vanish and a self-proclaimed Emperor would rule over every living being within this universe and possibly the next.

We must make it. I must get Surilda to The Shrine. I must deliver the heart shaped locket containing the soul of a Goddess to Her resting place.

Surilda wakes in the early morning light, unaware of how far we’ve trudged in the last two days. Her eyes are sunken in from dehydration, she blinks at me for a moment “You look terrible and I would drink a puddle in a stockyard right now.” There she is. My fearless raven with a gaze like an iceberg. “How far from The Shrine are we? I can feel Her soul trying to break free. If the Emperor takes it, Fate will unwind. The very fabric of our universe will be in the hands of a monster…” She trails off on one of her panic rants. Flailing hands, pacing, eyes rolling as she half whispers half yells at me but also no one. I hold up my hand and inhale deeply, my sign to her that she needs to come back to this moment. Not the thousands of other moments she can see in her kaleidoscope mind. Calmly I tell her “We’re not far but we’ve crossed into The Skirts. If you thought we were being hunted before, wait until every Sand Rat for a thousand miles gets word of our last location. Our bounty is the highest ever recorded. If they can catch both of us with Morrighan’s Soul that bounty will triple. You have to listen, you have to trust me to get us through.” Surilda gives me a sour look of disdain at the thought of obedience then slowly nods in agreement. She knows what I say is the truth, we’ve both been told of the prophecy many times. The stones encapsulating The Soul of Morrighan burn brightly in the sun appearing as if they are melting, pulsating, longing for their home. Her face goes stoney as she turns it toward the sky, “We have to go. Now.”

Sweat pours from every inch of my body, the sand that has weaseled its way into my boots pulverizes any skin left on my feet. I can hear the roar of engines closing in, the battle cries of The Projectors becoming more clear by the second. “Surilda… They’ve caught up,” I say willing myself not to collapse “no matter what happens to me you have to make it. No matter what you see you must keep going.” She is surprisingly keeping pace fairly well even though I know her bones feel like shattered glass. “Clo, if one of us is taken we will both be taken. You know this. So how about you keep your pep talks to yourself and let’s get to The Shrine of the Banshee before we’re torn limb from limb and forced to watch the world burn? Sound good?” I just smile and shake my head because I know she is right. She’s always right.

I can almost smell the water as we climb to the peak of a dune that seems similar in size to what I think a skyscraper would be if they weren’t all obliterated in the first display of dominance provided by our Emperors’ father. The sole heir of the largest global weapons manufacturer. No one knows when The Shrine was placed here, or how this oasis has stayed above sand for as far back as the stories go but it shines like a beacon on a stormy night. Gorgeously poised in the center is a sculpture of Morrighan seated by a crystalline pool in a flowing strapless gown,the shield of Her fallen love propped against Her leg as She washes the dried blood from its face. Her other hand is outstretched as if She has been waiting an eternity for someone to take it. Surilda and I both gasp as She comes into our vision, we have never had the pleasure of seeing someone so breathtaking in this life full of bloodshed and filth. That’s when I feel a searing pain rip through my right shoulder and out the other side of my chest. The sand is instantly splattered with pieces of my flesh. I’ve been shot. The Projectors joined by Sand Rats have finally risen above the apex of the dune surrounding The Shrine of The Banshee. Each of them firing on us with everything they have. As much as Surilda needs to reach Morrighan, the Emperor thinks he needs them both. Screaming at Surilda to run I place myself as parallel with her as possible to block the hail of gunfire. She can’t die now. Not after we’ve come this far and run for so long. I feel two more bullets puncture through my body jolting me forward onto my knees. Lungs heaving, I scramble toward her. I can see Surilda removing the heart shaped locket she has worn since she was a baby. Her body drains in a sigh as she places the locket in her right hand and reaches toward Morrighan's outstretched hand.

The Emperor himself finally arrives at the edge of The Shrine salivating at the opportunity to capture both of us alive. His freight train of a voice calls for a cease fire and silence cuts in. No one can take their eyes off of what is happening before them. Blue ethereal light began emanating brighter and brighter from the locket the closer Surilda and Morrighan became, Her soul knew She was home. Just before Surilda’s hand clasps Morrighan's she turns to look at me, her expression says everything I don’t want to hear. “Clota, there is part of this story our Elders never told you so you wouldn’t interfere like the stubborn ox you are. For a soul to be whole two halves must come together in harmony. In order to bring balance back to this world I must give myself to Morrighan.” The tears in her eyes glint like icicles on a brisk Winter morning. She only calls me by my given name when she is speaking to me as her Guardian, when I need to remember I serve a purpose in this life.

Just as their hands come together I can hear a guttural howl from the Emperor behind me, “Kill them! Kill them both! Get the locket before she sets the soul free!” My body jumps like bacon in a hot pan taking round after round from The Projectors and Sand Rats surrounding us. Surilda is never hit. She is already gone. She left in a ball of light so bright it could only be formed by Fate. Laying in the sand knowing eternal darkness is coming soon, I roll over and face the Emperor for the first time. His eyes are red with rage. Everything he has killed for is meaningless now. Everything his father killed for is meaningless now. I smile at him with the most sanguineous smile I can muster as life slips from my body. “He is just a man! Look at him! He treats all of you like gutter trash, he makes you promises of wealth and glory that he could never keep! Look at him! He is weak and pathetic and he has failed you!” Darkness creeps into my periphery with the sound of one last shot. The Emperors’ lifeless body crumples onto the sand in front of me as I roll onto my back. “We did it. We did it, Surilda.” I whisper with my final breath.