E'steem: Faerie Tale

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E'steem: Faerie Tale Page 2

by Shawn James


  “Wow. You really know how to clean up after yourself.” I say.

  “I hate making a mess.” The Lady of the Lake replies putting the pitcher back on the coffee table.

  “Well, I’ve got a big one I need to clean up myself. If you’ll excuse me I need to get into my coveralls...”

  The Lady of the Lake puts her hand on my shoulder. As her blue eyes meet mine, I catch the serious look in them. “Before you engage Morgan I need to talk to you about her.”

  “What’s to talk about? She’s got my boyfriend under her spell-”

  “Yes she does.” She sighs. But she’s been under one herself.”

  “Demon possession?”

  “Bitterness.”

  “Bitterness?”

  “After you brutalized Morgan in your duel to become Sorceress Supreme and left her for dead at the bottom of Avalon’s lake, Merlin and I did everything in our power to heal her broken body. Unfortunately, in spite of our best efforts we couldn’t restore her physical health.”

  That’s odd, considering she got up out of that wheelchair a minute ago. “Shouldn’t magick have been able to heal her? I mean as long as there’s mystic energy flowing through her living body she should have easily brought herself back to a healthy state.”

  “That’s what you’d think. We tried every potion, every spell, every enchantment we had. Even mortal medical therapies. But nothing seems to work.”

  “That’s a medical mystery. I mean, for beings like us.”

  “It is. But Morgan’s not evil. Just like you aren’t.”

  Someone’s been keeping up with social media. “I take it you heard about my conversion to Christianity…”

  “I’m a member of the E’steem group on Facebook.”

  Wow. I had no idea she’s a fan. I’m going to have to friend her. “If you heard about me changing, then why didn’t Morgan?”

  “You know us women. We hear what we want to hear and see what we want to see.”

  I heard that. “And we’re too stubborn to listen.”

  “Morgan’s been bitter and angry for so long she can’t see straight. Especially when it regards you.” The Lady continues. “She’s gotten herself banned from the E’steem message boards at least a dozen times for trolling.”

  “Seems she has time to bake while she’s boiling in anger.”

  “Cooking is one of the things that allows her to de-stress. That biscuit business of hers is one of the few things that makes her happy.”

  I wish I could give her a little happiness. It’s the least I could do in the face of all the cruelty I’ve done to her. “It’s sad that she’s wasted so much time with this grudge-”

  “True, Morgan could have a very productive life in the realms if she focused on the good she’s done for others and not the evil that’s been done to her.”

  “Thanks for letting me know about Morgan.”

  “I just wanted you to consider Morgan’s feelings before you approached her.”

  “I wish I had considered them then. But I was consumed by my own bitterness to think about how my actions affected other people.”

  “You were just following orders.”

  “You know that excuse didn’t work for the Nazis-”

  “I’d like to believe God has a higher standard.” The Lady comforts. “And He’s forgiven far worse sins than you’ve committed.”

  “So you don’t hate me as much as she does?”

  “I know you’re not the murderer you were an age ago E’steem. And just like you can change, there’s a possibility that she can change. You’ve just got to convince her.”

  I do. The least I can do is try to give her that same second chance John gave me. “I just hope she listens to me.”

  “I pray that she does.”

  Chapter 7

  The Lady of the Lake gestures and the water flows out of pitcher again and swirls into another whirlpool. “This portal will take you near the Castle above the Clouds.”

  I give her a look. “You’re not coming with me?”

  “I’d love to, but I’ve got a meeting with a big American supermarket chain regarding the distribution of my spring water in an hour.”

  Seems like Morgan isn’t the only one making power moves. “Let me guess. King Arthur Flour is actually owned by King Arthur.”

  The Lady’s playful smile lets me know my guess is correct. “It’s how we keep the cable on at the castle.”

  “You Avalonians.”

  “Friend me on Facebook. We’ll chat.”

  What about the portal?”

  “It’ll clean itself up.”

  I guess it will. I step into the whirlpool and as the rushing waters splash against my red high-heeled sandals, a flash of light takes me from the offices of the Morris Phillips tower to a clear blue sky. I feel myself freefalling; with a thought I make my bat wings sprout from my back. When I hear the back of my dress ripping, I catch an updraft that allows me to soar into the azure skies above the United Kingdom. As I fly in a northeast direction, I spot Morgan’s castle in the distance with the drawbridge lowered. Looks like she’s expecting me.

  I know going through the front door isn’t the smartest thing to do, but it’s the only way to show Morgan I’m not the treacherous she-demon of eons ago. After I fly into the castle and land in the cobblestone courtyard, I wait for Morgan to make her move.

  As my wings fold into my back and my dress mends itself a, flash of light explodes in my eyes. When it clears I hear the motor of Morgan’s wheelchair buzzing towards me. As she approaches me her face twists into a scowl. I hope she listens to what I have to say.

  “I see you found my castle Katian.” Morgan snarls.

  “What happened?” I ask. “Real estate in Avalon too pricey?”

  “I had to move here thanks to you. It’s the only way I can stay alive.”

  Okay, she’s not making any sense. Now I know I beat her within an inch of her life over a thousand years ago. But she couldn’t possibly bet as bad off as she’s making it. She got up out of that chair a few moments ago.

  “You weren’t acting like you were on life support a few minutes ago.”

  “I can only stay in the mortal realm for a day or two. There isn’t enough mystic energy on Earth to sustain my life force.”

  But she can use that same mystic energy to hold an entire castle above the clouds for centuries. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the mystic energies surrounding the earth. Whatever’s wrong with Morgan has to do with Morgan.

  “What are you talking about? There’s plenty of mystic energy still swirling around the Earth-”

  “No one believes in magick anymore.” Morgan spits. “Thanks to you defeating all the world’s sorcerers all people believe in is God.”

  People believed in God anyway. Even most of the Avalonians are Christians. That should have no bearing on her physical condition. “The age of magick was going to end anyway. The spread of The Gospel was eventually going to lead to a falling away of believers in the Mystic Arts-”

  Tears well up in Morgan’s eyes. “You caused those people to fall away with your campaign to become Sorceress Supreme! You did this to me-”

  My campaign to become Sorceress Supreme had absolutely nothing to do with the mystic energies surrounding the realms. It was basically an ego stroke for myself. I couldn’t have possibly hurt her this badly.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what I did to you-”

  Morgan’s hands clench into fists on hearing my apology. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to suffer.”

  She’s wants me to suffer? She’s going to have to take a number behind Lucifer and D’lilah. Maybe I can get her to scratch my name off her enemies list by showing her how much I’ve changed. “Look, whatever you want to do to me, do to me. But leave John out of it.”

  On hearing John’s name Morgan flashes me a smug smile. “I’m sorry, but he’s collateral damage.”

  “Collateral damage?”
r />   “You don’t have a right to be happy.” Morgan spits. “Not after all you’ve done to people.”

  “John didn’t do anything to you-”

  “Since you’ve made so many suffer with your campaigns of terror, now I’m going to make you suffer. Maybe your precious boyfriend will be alive when you eventually find a cure for my sleeping potion Princess.”

  “Morgan-”

  “Don’t let the drawbridge hit you in the ass.”

  Morgan reaches into the bag at the side of her chair and throws grains of sand at me. As the grains of sand are flung in my direction they grow to from pebbles into the size of boulders. The barrage of giant stones rolling in my direction sends me tumbling towards the drawbridge. This may be her way of showing me the door, but I’m not leaving without that cure.

  I push back against the boulders and while I’m strong enough to resist the onslaught, my Manolo Blahnik sandals aren’t. I feel myself falling backwards as the heels of my shoes snap off and I’m sent tumbling to the ground. As I’m rolled over by the first few boulders, I realize Italian designer shoes aren’t going to help me in a fight against a skilled sorceress like Morgan Le Fay.

  Before another one of the boulders can flatten me, I kick off the remains of my broken Manolos, spring up and my bare feet gain the traction I need to make a stand as I smash through the barrage of rocks. The mystic energies around this castle definitely aren’t weak; it takes quite a bit of effort for me to punch through these boulders. When the last of the stones crumbles back into sand I grab the remains of my sandals and storm back into the courtyard where Morgan greets me with an arrogant smirk.

  “My you’re a stubborn one.” Morgan jabs.

  I love John too much to lose him. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.” I snarl throwing my shoes at the foot of her wheelchair. “You owe me $1100 for the sandals you just ruined.”

  “No, I owe you $3500.” Morgan corrects.

  “$3500?-”

  Morgan gestures and in a few moments I feel a draft as the smell of smoke wafts under my nose. When I look down I see a wave of fire crawling up my body that disintegrates my dress. As the ashes that were my dress snow down on the cobblestones of the courtyard I cut a cold look at her. Oh no she didn’t.

  “That was a Versace!”

  “Just be glad you’re not wearing pants.” Morgan retorts.

  Looks like someone is a regular reader of The Deadly Dish. “Deduct that from the bill for all the pain and suffering you caused me.” Morgan continues.

  “I’ll call it even if you give me the cure for the sedative you gave John.”

  “No dice. Justice needs to be meted out on you.”

  “Two wrongs don’t make a right Morgan.”

  “Who cares? It makes me feel better.”

  “So hurting an innocent person is right to you?”

  “You never had a problem with it.”

  “Look that’s not who I am anymore.”

  Morgan looks me up and down and sneers at the sight of me in my pink polka dot bra and matching bikini panties. “I’ve heard about all your little so-called changes on social media.” She continues. “You can put on different clothes, but I know there’s the same old rotten you underneath them.”

  “I’m not the same person. Can’t you tell by my underwear?”

  “I didn’t think an unholy creature like you even wore underwear.”

  Funny how these little creature comforts I once despised have become a part of my life since I changed over a year ago. I’ve got to show her how different I am if I hope to save John’s life.

  “God has forgiven me for all I’ve done. All I’m asking is for you to do is forgive me too.”

  The cold glare Morgan tells me she’s not convinced. “It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I forgive you for doing this to me!”

  Morgan raises her hands and fires bolts of mystic energy at me. The blasts hit me in the gut and sends me flying across the courtyard. As I crash into a wall on the far side of the castle and its stones shower over me, I hear her having a hearty laugh. She definitely doesn’t sound sick now.

  I hear the sound of her chair buzzing towards where I’m lying in the debris. “Awww…Does it hurt?”

  That love tap didn’t even faze me. Now the old evil me would fire a bolt back at her in retaliation, but that would only prove everything that she thinks about me to be true. I need to find a way to turn the other cheek without using my fists.

  I push myself out of the debris and dust myself off. “Just my pride. I normally don’t fight people in my underwear.”

  “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of things in your underwear lately.” Morgan jabs as she reaches into a bag on the side of her chair and takes out her Smartphone. As she shows me the pantsed picture of myself on The Deadly Dish from my last encounter with D’lilah, I see the red light on her camera starting to record my latest indecent exposure. “I wonder what they’ll think of this little picture of you in your skivvies on The Deadly Dish Facebook group.”

  Oh no, John will kill me if I have another wardrobe malfunction posted up online! Blue flames erupt from my hands and I fire a blast of hellfire at her phone. Morgan’s eyes grow wide as she gestures and throws up a shield to deflect the blast. “My God! You’d attack a cripple?”

  From her reaction to my assault, I’m starting to see what the cause of her illness truly is. Maybe if I push enough of her buttons maybe I can help her find a cure to her infirmity. “Hey, all’s fair in love and war.” I taunt. “If you’re healthy enough can dish it out then you can take it.”

  “I knew you hadn’t changed.”

  “Come on stop playing around Morgan. You know I can wipe the floor with you in a sorceresses’ duel. What you’ve really wanted to do for the past thousand years is punch me in the face.”

  A frustrated Morgan pounds the arm rests of her wheelchair on the jab. “You bloody witch! You know I’m infirmed!”

  I gesture and a violin appears in a flash of light. While it plays music, I prod her some more. “You’re such a victim Morgan. You’re too infirmed to fight me, but here you are healthy enough to take the time to plot revenge.”

  “I do what I have to.” Morgan retorts firing a magic bolt disintegrating the violin.

  If only she could see that she’s not as infirmed as she thinks she is. Morgan’s capable of doing a lot more with her life than making mine a living Hell. Expanding her business would be a more productive way to using her elfin magic than tormenting me. If I can only get her to stop dwelling on the past maybe she could see what a great present she’s having right now.

  I sashay over to Morgan’s chair, put my hands on the armrests, lean over, and look her directly in her green eyes as I flash a smile at her. “Then why do what you’ve really wanted to do for the last fifteen hundred years. Why don’t you get up out of that chair and let me have it?”

  Morgan growls as she grabs the joystick for her chair. I hear the motor buzzing at full speed as she tries to push it in my direction. As I use one arm to hold the chair back with my super strength and its wheels burn rubber, I pretend to yawn. “Still gonna hide behind the toys.” I taunt. “Are you too scared get those pretty little hands of yours dirty like the old days.”

  “Fall, blast you, fall!” Morgan growls as she grits her teeth and pushes the chair’s motor to the max. I flash her a smile that makes her blood boil.

  “You know there’s only one way you want to knock me down. Or are you afraid of breaking a nail?”

  When her power chair won’t do the job, an irate Morgan loses it. She lets out a primal scream as she explodes in rage. I feel her hands grabbing at my shoulders as she pushes herself out of her power chair and wrestles me down to the cobblestones. As her fists pummel my face she lets it out. All fifteen hundred years of it.

  “RRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!! YOU BLOODY WITCH! I’ll show you I’m not scared of you!”

  Morgan pushes herself up on her knees and s
traddles me. I put my hands in front of my face as the berserk Morgan pounds on my forearms. “You’re nothing to be scared of! Your snake eyes, your horns, your claws, all of it is bluff! Bluff I tell you!”

  Seeing that she can’t penetrate the cover over my face, Morgan looks for vulnerable parts of my body to attack. When she finds my stomach vulnerable, she hops off me. As I crawl into a fetal position, I feel her high heels jabbing me in the sides as she kicks and stomps on me. When all the fire that fueled her rage finally burns out she looks down and points daggers at me.

  “Sorceress Supreme.” Morgan snarls. “You’re not even in my league. For all your bluster you’re just like me.”

  I flash her a smile as I stretch out of the fetal position lie, sideways and put my hand under my head. Looks like she figured it out. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

  “Better?” Morgan asks giving me a confused look.

  “You do realize you’re standing.”

  Morgan looks down at herself “Oh my God! It’s a miracle!”

  Chapter 8

  I reach out to E’steem. As she takes my hand and I help her up I meet her friendly brown eyes I try to offer her my sincerest gratitude. “You know you’re a rotten person. A rotten despicable human being.”

  “I’m working on it.” E’steem says.

  She keeps working on it and she’ll have as more people loving her than fearing her. “I can’t believe you used mortal psychology to cure a mystical ailment.” I continue. “Merlin’s probably going to want to write an article about you for his journals.”

  “I started to figure it was all in your head when you had enough mystic energy to hold this castle in the sky.”

  “That’s what perplexed everyone. I could project my magicks outward, but I couldn’t use them to cure myself.”

  “Well, one of the core principles of magick is psychological. Not only do the masses have to believe in it for it to work, the mage does as well.”

  And I haven’t believed in anything in years. It wasn’t my body that was broken, it was my spirit. “For years I thought it was the world believing in religion that caused me to be paralyzed. But the only thing keeping me in that chair was myself.”

  “I’m really sorry about what I did to you.”

  “I was too angry to hear it the first time.”

  E’steem and I give ourselves awkward looks after I accept her apology. After hating her for centuries, it just feels weird for things to be so amicable between us. Could this be the start of a friendship? “So…Where do we go from here?”

 

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