The Savage Peak: A Morgalla prequel Read online

  “The rest?”

  “Xanxur live in this forest, away from others of their species. Out there, the war is raging.”

  “What war?”

  “Do not burden yourself with such questions, child. The remainder of the cosmos will open to you when you are old enough.”

  As Morgalla got older, horns grew from behind her ears, and soon she asked for a place of her own to live and sleep. Thankfully, there was another hut not far from Delilah’s. After patching the holes in the roof, it became livable. With parchment and charcoal, Morgalla posted drawings all over the walls. After her decorating had been done, it became a home.

  Her heart swelled with pride at her accomplishment, knowing it was hers. On this particular occasion, while admiring her work, she turned and saw Delilah standing in the doorway.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to say this is a waste of my time,” Morgalla said, referring to her drawings.

  Delilah’s golden eyes examined the room. “Not entirely as long as your studies come first.”

  Morgalla rolled her eyes when her mentor turned her back.

  “I saw that, child.”

  More time passed, and things became routine for the two of them. Then came the day that Morgalla’s life changed forever. One morning when Morgalla rose in her hammock, the branches creaked as she rolled out of bed and landed on the wooden floor. The dreams were not violent but certainly intense, enough to make her break out in a sweat. Her hut was tiny, barely enough room for one person. She walked to the curtain that served as a door and opened it, the early light bathed her. The morning song indicated the wildlife had been awake for a while. She felt the chill and moisture of the morning as she stepped out to her porch. Morgalla checked the perch where Delilah usually slept but didn’t see her. Not like her to be an early riser. Morgalla dressed in her day clothes and set out to find breakfast…and Delilah.

  As Morgalla walked the wooden bridges that spanned from tree to tree throughout the entire forest, she found a low-hanging branch and snatched a few guavas. The bright yellow fruit was her favorite, and she could have it for breakfast every day for the rest of her life.

  The Xanxur were awake as usual, and going through their morning prayers and rituals. Morgalla meandered along the wooden paths and bridges, coming across a group of them who had knelt to greet the morning sun. Morgalla always found their peaceful ways intriguing, but she never got too close to them. Although the monks allowed her and Delilah to stay among them, she sensed the tiny sliver of mistrust for demonkind. She marveled at them, their tattooed blue skin bathed in the morning sunlight contrasting with their white clothes. Morgalla, with orange skin and dark clothing, snuck past as quietly as she could and looked for Delilah elsewhere.

  Morgalla stood on a large branch and peered out at the community of the Xanxur. She took another bite of her guava and focused on the massive forest. She heard the chanting filling the trees with a pleasant sound as the morning sun rose higher. Morgalla finally guessed where Delilah might be. Her soul was inside the chapel. She made her way down to the structure. The wood had elegant carvings all over it. Sneaking in through the darkened hallways, she heard voices at the end of the corridor. She concentrated and clearly heard Delilah and the High Priest.

  “…and we have allowed you and your student to live here, so long as it was in peace,” the High Priest said.

  “To which, I am trying to show gratitude. Your people…”

  As Delilah spoke, a controlled anger was obvious in her voice. Morgalla sensed the rage building in her teacher’s soul. She guessed the High Priest was also using his training to keep his own temper under control.

  “They will not ask questions. They will come and slaughter you and her.”

  “I didn’t know your people could be so violent,” Delilah said.

  “They can be…when they have been provoked in such a way. This war has gone on for a century!”

  Morgalla strained to hear and realized if she got too close, Delilah would know she was listening. She probably already did. Morgalla turned when spotting someone entering from the opposite end of the hallway. Stepping into the darkness, she knew who it was even before he entered into the light. When close enough, Morgalla put her palms together in front of her chest and bowed. The man returned the gesture. Lorn was one of the high priests whose height even rivaled Delilah’s. He stood out from the younger Xanxur due to streaks of grey at his temples, something Morgalla found curious.

  “What’s going on?” Morgalla asked.

  “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You and your teacher have been allowed to live here in peace. But now…”

  The sense of urgency echoed with his soul, Delilah’s too as she came out of the chamber in a huff. Seeing her apprentice, she commanded her to follow.

  Morgalla had to work to keep pace with her mistress as they walked along the bridges between the trees.

  “What’s going on?” Morgalla asked, catching her breath.

  “Damn monks and their vow of non-violence,” Delilah replied.

  “Delilah.”

  The dragon hybrid spun around, annoyance plainly showing on her face and bleeding from her soul. “What’s wrong, child, is that we must leave.”

  “But why?”

  Delilah continued swearing under her breath. She finally stopped and sat on a large branch, overlooking the valley. Her eyes squinted to the horizon.

  “Did you get breakfast?” Delilah asked.

  Morgalla picked another guava fruit and handed it to her.

  “No meat?”

  “Oh, sorry I didn’t have time to hunt and kill something for you, Your Highness.”

  Delilah glared. “Watch your tone, child. I’m in no mood.”

  “Well, you’re not telling me anything. Why do we have to move from the commune?”

  “We must leave the planet. It is no longer safe for us.”

  Morgalla appeared shocked. “Why?”

  “The monks of the Xanxur allowed us to stay because we live in peace. That, and we helped keep them safe from predators.” Delilah scoffed. “Pacifists. But the rest of their species is driving demonkind away from their world. If they find us, they will kill us.”

  Morgalla was stunned. “But we never did anything to them. There has to be a way we can…”

  “I have already had this discussion with the High Priest. Even if they wanted to protect us, they cannot, nor would they.”

  “But where will we go?”

  “Our options are limited. A few other worlds are safe for us, and those that are safe might as well be Hell itself.”

  A sense of dread came over Morgalla, and she stared up at the sky. She hopped off the branch and paced.

  “You knew this day would come,” Delilah said. “We were not meant to live here our whole lives. Why are you scared?”

  It was obvious that Morgalla was afraid, and she didn’t try to hide it.

  “You’ve told me stories of growing up and living there. I just think…”

  “And I have taught you to never show fear. The others will latch onto it and prey upon it.”

  “But why go to Hell? Why not another demon world?”

  “It would be the same, except for the fact that my master…your master as well, would be strongest there.”

  Morgalla couldn’t stop staring out to the valley. A beautiful, red bird flew by. Morgalla couldn’t take her eyes off it as it flew towards the horizon. Delilah approached and gently touched Morgalla’s shoulders.

  “I blame myself, child. Keeping you in such a place as this, I fear you’ve grown soft.”

  “I don’t want to go,” Morgalla said.

  “We have no choice. The Usta are on a rampage, and they will slaughter anyone with demon blood.”

  Morgalla brushed Delilah’s hands away. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t have invaded their home.”

  The words cut Delilah’s soul but not enough to dissuade her. It wasn’t what Morgalla said but the defi
ance that annoyed her teacher.

  “How many times must I tell you?” Delilah snapped.

  “Don’t give me the lesser species speech again.”

  “It is our destiny, Morgalla. Show me one species superior to ours. It is our duty to bring order to the cosmos.”

  “I don’t know. The Xanxur seem to have order and peace.”

  “One religious sect among a population of millions. Can those millions claim the same?”

  “There should be another place like this, a sanctuary of some sort.”

  Delilah snapped again, “We’re not going to one of those weak worlds.”

  “It wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “And be among those weak species relying on their tek-nology? We’re stronger than Baladonians or humans.”

  The anger rose in Morgalla’s heart. “Then why are we chased from world to world? How safe are we anywhere anymore?”

  Delilah noticed some of the monks were looking their way. She seemed to know what was in their hearts. As calm and controlled as they were of their emotions, Delilah felt the slightest stir in their souls.

  “Calm yourself,” Delilah commanded with a soft voice. “Gather your things.”

  What things Morgalla had could fit in a small bag. Most of it was only a change of clothes.

  High atop the trees, they could see for miles. Morgalla kept herself occupied by throwing a knife to a crude wooden target that Delilah had made for practice. Staring off to the horizon, Delilah sensed the souls from the armies. The demons were in full retreat to the portal and the strength of the Usta was driving them out.

  With each toss of her knife, Morgalla struck the center every time with a thump. Delilah fumed, her rage boiling over as she sat on a branch.

  Delilah commanded, “Come, we must be off.”

  “Wait, there’s something I need.”

  “Make it quick.”

  The sense of urgency in Delilah’s voice was obvious as she kept her eyes on the horizon. Morgalla darted around the thick branches, running here and there, her eye scanning. Usually, guavas were easy to find, but now she needed one, and they weren’t anywhere to be seen. She finally spotted a bit of yellow out of the corner of her eye and checked under a large leaf and found a group of six guavas all clustered at the end of a branch. Morgalla quickly gathered the goodies into her bag. She picked the last one and held it in her hand for a brief moment and sighed.

  Morgalla felt the eyes of a friend focused on her. She turned and saw the priest, Lorn, standing at the edge of the wooden path. She approached and frowned at the melancholy expression on his face.

  “Why are you sad?” she asked. “I’m the one who has to leave.”

  “That is why I am sad. You seemed happy here.”

  “Almost. I mean it’s a wonderful place but at the same time…”

  “You felt like an outsider.”

  Morgalla hung her head. “I was reminded every day.”

  “But not by words. It was only by our souls that you knew of our…discomfort. You must realize it was your teacher’s words that convinced us for you to stay all those years ago. Because she promised the two of you would live here in peace.”

  Morgalla smirked. “I believe I sensed your mood at the time, all of you. You were borderline scared.”

  “We never had demons live here.”

  “Then why did they let us?”

  “Well, there was a debate. But Delilah made a convincing argument that you needed a home, safe and away from Hell.”

  “It’s no longer become safe.”

  “I’m sorry, Morgalla. But the rest of…”

  Lorn glanced away, unable to finish his sentence. Morgalla had a feeling what the words might be.

  “My kind,” she said.

  “Yes. War is coming to an end, finally. As peaceful and open as we try to be to others, we are imperfect beings. You have the gift of insight into the hearts of others, something all demons possess. But you…”

  His eyes stared at her with wonder, as if he had discovered something very precious.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “You are not like other demons. You don’t use your gifts for evil. Where others mold and corrupt the souls of the innocent or force them against their will, I am grateful you have not followed their path. I’m afraid…”

  Morgalla sensed the presence of her mistress. She turned to a faraway branch and saw that Delilah was watching. She motioned for her student to approach.

  “I guess that means it’s time to leave,” Morgalla said with a somber tone.

  She took a few steps but had to give the forest one final look. She then gazed high up into Lorn’s eyes, which gawked back in concern. He held up his hand, and Morgalla matched it. As their palms touched, she saw the sharp contrast of her orange hand enveloped in his blue one.

  “Keep your friends close, Morgalla. And never lose hope.”

  Her expression revealed her concern and loss for words at that moment. “I…I’ll miss you.”

  She joined Delilah on the branch.

  Delilah sneered and spread her wings. “I despise long goodbyes.”

  “It’s just unfair.”

  “Life is seldom fair, child.”

  Morgalla fought the urge to turn and give the forest one more glance. The clawed hand brushed her shoulder, and she braced herself. With a leap, gravity took over, and Delilah whisked her apprentice off to the portal that glowed red far off in the distance.

  3

  The Burning Sky

  It was the place she had seen in her dreams a hundred times. The mountains were painted black, the landscape infected with dark trees and weeds, and the sky engulfed in flames. There was no sun or beacon of light, but the inferno above provided the only illumination.

  “Amazing isn’t it, young one?”

  Morgalla marveled at the figure who stood next to her. Her mistress, Delilah, was delighted at the sight before her as if being greeted by a long-lost friend. Delilah inhaled the air and coughed. It smelled like something strange burning. She smiled.

  “How I missed that.”

  “Really?” Morgalla asked.

  “I suppose you still have to get used to it. Do you remember the sweetness of the air?”

  “No. And sweet isn’t the word I would use.”

  “Want to fly down?” Delilah asked.

  “No, walking is fine.”

  Delilah led her student down the cliff where they found a wide, stone path.

  “Now remember, you can sense what they are feeling, but so can they with you.” Delilah’s comments made Morgalla’s soul shift, something she easily sensed. “See? That kind of emotion could get you killed if you’re not careful.”

  “What emotion?”

  “Fear.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “Yes, you are. There’s nothing to be afraid of, child. We will be surrounded by allies, and you will have me there with you.”

  The words brought Morgalla little comfort, but her mood changed slightly.

  Morgalla had never seen Delilah like this: the demon hybrid acting like a giddy child. Morgalla struggled to keep up as they ran down the mountain path. They came to a clearing. At the end of the path was a gate. On either side of it were two bronze statues of some sort of creature. The figures had been placed on top of pedestals so high that even Delilah, with her great height, had to leap to touch them. The right statue’s nose had been worn down to the polished bronze while the rest of the metal had turned black. Delilah kissed her hand and leapt to touch the nose.

  She called to Morgalla, “Come on.”

  Her young apprentice was still apprehensive, so Delilah grabbed her hand and pulled her into the town. As they entered the gates to the city, Delilah stopped. She took a deep breath. Morgalla sensed a shift in her soul.

  “What is it?” Morgalla asked.

  “You gotta put on a brave face around people like this. If you think about something you hate or get angry, they won’t be
able to sense what you’re really feeling.”

  “What’s the point of that?”

  Delilah stared at her, the tip of her claw was touching Morgalla’s chest. “Important lesson about dealing with demons: Don’t ever let them know your true feelings. They will use that knowledge against you.”

  “You never did.”

  “That’s different. Now think of something you hate.”

  “That’s easy,” Morgalla said with a huff.

  This place.

  Delilah’s giddy child disappeared. She was all business now. Morgalla’s soul was a cadre of negative emotions. Delilah said nothing as her pace was now more of a cocky swagger. With her long legs, she was able to cover long distances in a short time. Morgalla had to almost sprint to keep up.

  The buildings were mostly red and black brick. Morgalla saw businesses of various kinds, most of them related to fulfilling the needs of demons: butchers, bakers, tailors. They entered the main village square near a large statue of some sort of beast, the same species that was at the main gate, but this one had wings. Demons seemed to be everywhere, congregating around the local buildings.

  “Stay close and don’t make eye contact.”

  The town square wasn’t what Morgalla was expecting at all. Demons of all kinds came and went about their business. Some talked and laughed, some walked and stared at others as if they were trying to pick a fight. Morgalla noticed that some demons had horns, others didn’t. She even spotted one that had more than two eyes. One had four legs. Another had four arms. Many spoke in dialects Morgalla didn’t recognize, but she swore she heard English from the lips of some.

  One thing was common among all—they were all armed.

  Delilah turned around as if she was searching for any familiar faces. She soon became disappointed.

  “What is it?” Morgalla asked.

  “It’s nothing. Come over here.”

  They found seats in the center of the square. Morgalla hopped up on a stone ledge, her feet not touching the ground. Delilah crossed her arms.

  Two demons…young males, if Morgalla had to guess…were watching Delilah, specifically the symbol on her cloak as they bowed their heads to her. She returned the gesture.