The Dragon Ascendant

Shadows Of The Past

CHAPTER 5: SHADOWS OF THE PAST 

Far from the Elthorn Estate, a secluded manor filled with the burnt, herbal scent of despair awaited the tedium of late-night labors. Dark magic pulsed through the very walls of the structure, and the air tasted of ancient power and the slightest hint of forbidden rituals. You could almost hear the place whisper its secrets to you if you dared enter its domain. 

A close-up audition of what was in the very corners of the shadow-painted haven would have been a fascinating scoop for any enterprising reporter, and certainly for those in magic's employ. Elthorn might have found a way in. He certainly had the time and means to try, and if he couldn't, well, he had at least lit a stack of kindling in prospect for any in our midst who might seek to unmask the tendrils of darkness serving either the Ebon Alliance or some similarly sinister cabal.

At the head of the table sat Giovanni, the leader of the magicians, his sharp features lit up by the orb's unnatural glow. His silvery hair framed his face in a way that made him look even more severe. He had the look of a man who was fire-kissed and dark inside, a man who had seen and controlled pure darkness. His fingers drummed impatiently on the arm of his chair, and he muttered to himself, barely audible. 

"Why is she late? I don't have time for this."

One of the other magicians, a young woman with beautiful but penetrating red eyes, leaned forward and said, "Maybe she reconsidered and decided it was unwise to deal with us." 

Giovanni scoffed. "Morgana knows better than that."

The heavy doors opened, as if summoned by his very words. A cold gust of air rushed into the room, making the candles flicker madly. Lady Morgana entered, bringing with her the same ominous presence as the dark magic that filled the manor. She wore a long, black dress, the hood of her cloak pulled low….so low it nearly touched her mouth, which was the only feature of her face that was visible. A cold breeze seemed to swirl around her.

Giovanni's eyes narrowed as he leaned back in his chair, sneering, "Ah, Morgana. So nice of you to grace us with your presence. And only... what, an hour late?"

Morgana disregarded the jab and planted herself directly in front of him, hands folded defiantly at her waist.

"When dealing with issues of great import, time becomes an irrelevant consideration," she said, voice steady, but icy enough to send shivers down my spine. "I trust you are still able to grasp that concept, Giovanni."

Just below her valor, she seeped with audacity. She was a tawdry thing to watch, strutting on that stage. Yet beneath her outlandish appearance, a thread of dangerous cunning and spiteful resilience persisted. Her laughter was soft and humorless. But the threat was plain: Morgana was back, and Morgana was bad.

"And yet, here I stand!" murmured Morgana, her voice slicing through the thick atmosphere like a hot knife through barely warm butter. "In your domicile, but far from under your heel."

Giovanni loomed over her, his long, tall, and muscular frame filling her vision. His voice came out in growls, so dark and thick with venom that it might as well have sprouted fangs and claws.

"Don’t be foolish, Morgana. You might walk into this manse, but I control the very magic that courses through its veins. You forget who it is you’re messing with."

Morgana let his words wash over her as she half-held her ground, half-strolled to the side, as if looking for a convenient spot for a nap in the middle of his tirade.

"I can never forget, Giovanni," she said, her voice laced with faux affection. "How could I, when for all the years I've known you, you've never given anyone cause to forget the great *Giovanni*? The dark magician who…." at this, she leaned in conspiratorially, as if about to let him in on some closely held secret "...couldn't even keep the one thing that mattered most to him."

Giovanni's expression turned grim.

"Careful, Morgana."

Morgana's eyes seemed to darken as she met his stare.

"Or else what? You’ll threaten to disown me? I don’t think you have it in you, Giovanni, not after everything I’ve done for you."

A powerful thrum of energy passed between them, their history barely concealed. The gathering of magicians held its collective breath, eyes darting between the two of them.

"And don't let it go to your head too much, Giovanni," Morgana continued, as if undeterred by his simmering presence. "Remember that the real dark ones," her finger pointed back and forth between herself and him, "are just two steps away from being nothing but shadows."

Giovanni clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, feeling the surge of words that wanted to come out. He didn't need to say anything, though. Morgana knew he felt that way. There was no sense in denying it. And yet, she pushed him, almost needling him.

"You act like I didn’t *even know* what I was getting into," she said. "As if I *wanted* to be your life’s *big bad wolf*!"

Her bravado was almost ludicrous. She took one small step closer to him, her front almost brushing against his, and it gave him the heebie-jeebies to have her so in his space.

With her arms folded over her chest, a smile that barely touched her lips, and an attitude that suggested she might burst out laughing any moment, Morgana sat across from Giovanni.

"I didn't come here to discuss our...relationship," she said. "I came here to ask for a favor."

Giovanni's posture shifted just slightly, and he sat up a little straighter.

"A what, now? You want a favor?"

What a laugh. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had asked him to do that without first sweet-talking him into it. He narrowed his eyes.

"What do you need, Morgana?"

Morgana, still positively chipper, held his gaze.

"I need you to help me rob a bank."

"Mutually beneficial?" Giovanni echoed, an eyebrow raised high. "And what makes you think I'd have any interest in doing anything that might benefit you?"

Morgana stepped close, practically whispering now, for his ears alone.

"Because in all our adversity, Giovanni, you've always favored me secretly. We both know that."

Giovanni was silent for so long that Morgana began to worry. And then he just bowed his head, letting out a low, bitter chuckle.

"Secretly favored you?" he said, looking back up at her. "I think you're nearly as delusional in that as you are in thinking Célestine might ever share my bed."

Morgana looked at him with a smile, and for a moment, he thought she might actually be enjoying this encounter.

"Perhaps you've forgotten why, exactly, you turned up in my castle all those years ago? Why, of all places, you chose to break into my very own abode? Yet here we are, with you still playing my nice, obedient little guard. And I am still, apparently, the evil sorceress you can't quite seem to get over. Why is that, Giovanni?"

She finally paused, and he took several deep breaths, preparing to respond. Morgana spoke again, and he barely caught her words.

"Why do you protect me?"

"I'll take that as a yes," she called back over her shoulder, her tone still as cool and confident as ever.

Giovanni studied her retreating figure, attempting to suppress the anger boiling up inside him. For a moment, the room was silent; nothing could be heard but the maniacal laughter erupting from deep within Giovanni's throat. He threw his head back and let it out in concentrated waves, filling the manor with the sound of unfettered insanity.

When he looked at the other magicians, their expressions seemed to be begging for clarification; they glanced at one another, their eyes wide with fear.

"What is it?" one of them finally asked, his voice cracking. "What are we in for?”