Distorted Fates

by R. L. Weeks

  “Morgan,” she’d cooed in a seductive tone. “Is your mother home, child? I need to speak with her.”

  Rendered mute with intimidation, I merely nodded and stepped back to allow her in.

  She wore a full-length ivory gown with glints of gold brocade detail sewn throughout. The pale fabric on top of her porcelain skin gave her a ghostly appearance, making her blue eyes shine that much brighter. Her platinum hair was wound in intricate braids atop her head, and all together, the look was mesmerizing.

  It was an eerie beauty that bespoke her terrible power.

  I ran for my mother.

  Our home wasn’t big, just a cottage by a serene lake on the outskirts of Seelie Lands. My mother was a water Nymph, the Lady of the Lake she was called. We lived a quiet life together surrounded by nature.

  It had been the perfect childhood until that day.

  “Mamma, Queen Mab is here. She wants to speak with you.” The words flew out in a rush as I hurried out back to where my mother kneeled in the garden, tending to her flowers.

  Her features hinted at surprise, but she didn’t appear worried, and that confidence settled my child’s mind. She shook off the soil and leaves from her morning gown and lead the way back inside. “Mab, what a pleasure.” My mother dipped her head in a respectful bow and smiled warmly at our guest. “Please, sit down. May I offer you a drink?”

  Mab did not return the bow. Instead, her chin lifted, and eyes narrowed as the corners of her lips twisted up snidely. “My brother seems to have taken quite the liking to you. I hardly see him anymore.” She held her hands clasped behind her back and began to slowly pace farther into the room.

  “I care for him a great deal,” my mother offered softly.

  Mab turned her face back to my mother and a deviously wicked grin spread across her pale lips. “You care for him a great deal? Do you have any idea how pathetic that sounds? Merlin is the other half of my soul.” Mab’s voice grew louder and more irate with each word.

  My heart sped to a pounding rhythm, and the pit in my stomach expanded until I was sure I would be sick. Something was very wrong—we were in grave danger.

  Before my mother could respond, Mab launched into a rant. “Merlin and I are two pieces of the same whole. I do not simply care for him, he is my world! And you think you can weasel your way between us, lure him away from me, but you will never succeed.” Her face twisted with grotesque rage, and she flung her hand out to cast a powerful magical blast toward my mother.

  Barely time to raise a shield, my mother was blown backward against the cottage wall but was able to protect herself from the full extent of the blast.

  I cried out in horror and ran for my mother.

  Without a glance in my direction, Mab used her magic to fling me into one of our wingback chairs and immobilize me with invisible bindings. My mouth fixed shut, I was unable to do anything but watch helplessly as Mab brutalized my weeping mother.

  A Nymph’s water magic was ill equipped to combat Mab’s powerful abilities.

  Tears streaked down my cheeks as Mab rained down blow after blow on my defenseless mother. Her blond hair, so like mine, fell from where it had been pinned atop her head, and blood trickled down from a gash in her temple.

  I felt my heart being ripped in two as I screamed relentlessly through a mouth that would not open.

  When my mother was no longer conscious, Mab lifted her with arms so thin they did not look capable of such strength. The evil queen approached where I sat, numb from the horrors I’d been forced to witness.

  “Dear Morgan, your mother was the victim of a horrible tragedy today,” she cooed.

  My eyes shot up to hers, a spark of hatred igniting inside me. But just as the flame took hold, it was quickly doused by a supernatural calm.

  Mab continued speaking in a melodic tone, and I felt my mind twist and warp with her words. “While she tended to her garden, your mother was spotted by a wayward Grindylow. The evil water demon attacked her, and her cries woke you from your sleep just in time to see the beast carry her off into the Wilds. There was nothing you could do but wait for help to arrive.”

  Her words unburdened my mind.

  I sat in a haze as she turned and strode out of the cottage, my mother still motionless in her arms.

  Even after I emerged from my stupor, I sat in our home without hardly moving for days. The entire episode had felt like a horrible nightmare, but I never woke, and my mother never came home.

  My body grew weak without sustenance, an outward reflection of my broken heart within. Tearless cries wrenched from my dehydrated body when I finally conceded that I was alone.

  My mother was gone.

  I scraped myself together and began to perform the tasks I’d watched my mother carry out on a daily basis. Each day I grew stronger and more hardened to my new reality.

  When Merlin came to visit almost a month later, I explained calmly how the Grindylow had taken my mother. He insisted I come with him, explaining that he would become my guardian.

  I began to heal, as much as an orphaned child could.

  However, two years later the wound was violently reopened.

  Merlin figured out the truth behind my mother’s abduction and killed his sister in an attempt to save my mother. When Mab was dead, the spell binding my memories dissolved, and I was assaulted by a flood of images from the day my mother was attacked.

  I remembered every brutal detail.

  Even more upsetting, Merlin informed me that my mother had not survived Mab’s torture.

  Believing a Grindylow had taken her, I’d held out hope that she might still be alive. When Merlin informed me that my mother was dead, I relived her loss all over again. Even worse, this time I knew that I had been witness to her abduction and unwittingly held information that might have saved her.

  I may have only been twelve years old, but I lost my innocence the day.

  Merlin’s guilt over his role in my mother’s death must have been weighty because he not only continued to raise me when he would not have been otherwise obligated to do so, but he also made me his apprentice. For years he was my mentor, teaching me his vast knowledge of sorcery, but none of it would bring back what his sister had stolen.

  The memories no longer crippled me like they had for so long. Instead, they kept me focused. They reminded me that no one was to be trusted, and only the strong survived.

  Power was everything, and love was a deadly weakness.

  Drawing me from my thoughts, an awareness of being watched crept along my skin. My Fae magic never would have allowed someone to sneak up on me, but in my powerless state, I was vulnerable. A twinge of fear, something I had not experienced in centuries, uncoiled in my belly.

  My steps faltered, and I slowly turned to see what form of creature stalked me in the night. At first my eyes skipped around, unable to find the source of my unease. The moonlight was enough to guide me along the path but also cast gaping shadows in the thick foliage. It wasn’t until my ears caught a rumbling growl that I was able to hone in on the location of my pursuer.

  From the depths of an impenetrable shadow, golden eyes glared out at me. Head lowered and ears back, an enormous white wolf slowly emerged from the darkness. The moonlight shone off its stark white fur, and for a moment, I was too mesmerized to think clearly.

  The creature was magnificent—pure white fur disguising the brutal features of a deadly hunter.

  I shook myself from my musings when its lips lifted in a vicious snarl. Suddenly I couldn’t get enough air and my feet stumbled backward of their own accord. I knew not to run from a predator, but my vulnerable state seemed to create a disconnect between my thoughts and my actions.

  Logic no longer ruled my body.

  Primal fear had taken over.

  The monstrous wolf stepped directly onto the path some thirty feet in front of me, its hackles raised in aggression. This wolf was far larger than any I’d ever seen. Standing on all fours, its head was as high as my ches
t. This beast didn’t just stare at me like I was its next meal, its eyes bore into me like it wanted to rip me to shreds.

  I took several deep breaths and chided myself to remember who I was and all I’d accomplished. I was a sorceress trained by Merlin Ambrosius himself. I was known throughout Earth as the merciless Morgan Le Fay, and feared throughout Faery as Morgan, Lady of the Lake.

  I planted my feet firmly and straightened my spine. “Leave this place,” I growled back at the wolf, infusing my voice with as much aggression as possible. “Go on, get out of here! I’ll slice your hide straight from your back and wear your fur as a cloak,” I snarled as I lifted the small blade I’d brought with me.

  Undaunted, the wolf continued to stalk ever closer to where I stood. Each step it took was a steady, calculated advancement on its prey.

  The irony of the situation hit me, and a bubble of laughter burst from my lips.

  I was one of the most powerful Fae alive. I had waged war against the Erlking Arthur, first leader of the Wild Hunt. I’d mastered a way to circumvent the wards between worlds and traveled at my own discretion. Just a month prior, I’d been moments from leading an army of Unseelie against the Seelie Queen. And yet, I now sat powerless as a simple human, about to be disemboweled by a wolf. I threw my head back and unleashed a howl of laughter.

  For a brief moment, the wolf stalled. The growling stopped, and it appeared to assess me for the first time as a possible threat.

  My peels of hysterical cackling subsided, and I wrapped myself with ferocity. “That’s right!” I raged. “You want me? Come and get me, but I won’t go down without a fight,” I bellowed at the overgrown dog.

  Unfortunately, my threats were deemed unworthy of retreat.

  The great white beast launched its attack.

  Chapter 2

  The wolf lunged forward with a vicious roar, and I softened my stance to prepare for the force of its attack. Just when it was mere feet from reaching me, the air between us shimmered, and Merlin materialized. The wolf locked its legs and halted inches from the Fae man.

  Merlin bore down on the wolf with his arms held wide and spoke sternly. “You are confused, my friend. She is not one of them.”

  The animal looked from the man back to me in an assessing manner, but as soon as its eyes landed on my form, its snarl returned, and it began to stalk in my direction yet again.

  “Merlin, do something! What was the point in bringing me here if you’re just going to stand there and let me be eaten alive?” I spat.

  Merlin seemed to ignore my insolence, swinging out his hand to cast a magical strike at the beast. “Morgan, take off your cloak, now,” he commanded sternly.

  I narrowed my eyes with confusion but did as he ordered. I removed the garment and cast it some feet away into the leafy shadows, leaving me in nothing but a thin nightgown. The wolf quickly recovered from Merlin’s assault and sprang into action. It dove at the lifeless cloak, snatching the red fabric into its clenched jaw and disappeared into the darkness.

  “What in the seven hells was that?” I asked on an exasperated breath.

  Merlin closed the distance between us, his features drawn with remorse and concern. “I apologize. My friend had come to check in on you, but I had not anticipated your wardrobe choice. I’m afraid he has a sordid history with the Red Caps, and your cloak seemed to dredge up memories of that dark past.”

  “Your friend? I should have known he was sent here by you. First you bind my magic, then you send a crazed wolf to attack me.”

  “Had I wanted you dead, you would be,” Merlin said pointedly. “While you’re here, there should be no reason for the use of magic. As long as you don’t wear the cloak, Knight will not be a threat. There are no other dangerous creatures on the grounds; nothing here will harm you.”

  “That’s terribly reassuring, just me and a deranged wolf,” I muttered.

  “My friendship with Knight, as he’s being called these days, goes back many centuries.” Merlin began to walk back toward the house, and I begrudgingly fell into step beside him. “When I first found him, he was being held captive by a particularly nasty band of Red Caps.”

  His mention of the vile race of Unseelie brought to mind images of the creatures. They looked like withered old men, but their appearance was deceptive. They were inconceivably strong and had the ability to trace, something not many Unseelie possessed. Atop their large bald heads, they wore caps used to soak up the blood of their slain enemies—trophies of their violent exploits. The Red Caps were absolutely ruthless, known for their bloodlust and occasional bouts of cannibalism.

  I had formed a tentative alliance with some during my rebellion, but I never made the mistake of trusting them. The thought of being held prisoner by such soulless beings made me unbearably cold.

  Merlin continued as I shook the image. “I was able to secure Knight’s freedom and spent a good deal of time with him while he recovered from their mistreatment. It became clear to me that he was highly intelligent, and I began to wonder if he had truly been a wolf at all. I searched in vain for years to find a spell or counter curse that might turn him back to his rightful form. If there was magic used on my dear friend, I have not been able to reverse it. All these years he has remained my trusted companion, and I assure you that you are not in danger by his presence.”

  “Are you implying he’s staying here with me?” I scoffed.

  “I think some companionship would do you wonders.”

  “If its companionship I need, locking me away from the world is hardly going to do the job.”

  “There are many worse places you could be. I’m sure Knight would have happily traded places with you rather than enduring his stay with the Red Caps,” he mused with a touch of reproach.

  “You’re never going to free me, are you? You’re going to keep me prisoner here, just like you’ve done with my mother.” The words were more a statement of my own frustrations than an actual question, but Merlin answered anyway.

  “Have you let go of your hatred, Morgan?” he asked, sounding tired. “Or are you still plotting ways to get your revenge on Guin?” The ancient man rarely sounded his age, but in this instance, weariness pulled at his words. “I know how deeply you cared for Lancelot, but his affair with Guin, and her sentencing him to exile was ages ago. You must let it go.”

  My teeth ground together at hearing the name of the wretched woman who had caused me to lose everything I had loved in the world, or at least everything I’d had left after my mother’s death. For that, she held the distinction of being the person I hated most in the world.

  Her mindless minions worshiped her, but they had no idea how rotten she was on the inside and the atrocities of which she was capable. I was no saint, but at least I owned up to my nature. Guin was the rotten core inside a shiny red apple. At night my sweetest dreams involved visions of Guin brought to her knees.

  I swallowed the comment I wanted to make about Guin and instead offered sweetly, “Yes, after a month here, I realize that I need to move on with my life.”

  Merlin’s eyes slid over to me, and his lips spread into an amused grin. “Liar,” he chided.

  “You can’t keep me here forever,” I sulked.

  “It’s better than the alternative.”

  I instantly stopped and narrowed a hard glare his direction. “You would kill me?”

  His responding look was unexpectedly dark. “You are a danger to others, and I will not allow that. Had you not been family, you would have been dead after that rebellion you tried to orchestrate. Please believe that I want your freedom just as much as you, but it cannot be at the cost of other people’s lives, whether human or Fae. Until you let go of your need for revenge, you will be a danger to everyone around you. I hope that during your time here, you will see reason and can one day be freed.”

  “And what reason is there to forgive those who have so egregiously harmed me?”

  Merlin’s lips lifted in a sad smile. “That is something only you w
ill be able to answer. Just remember that the only thing any of us can dictate with any certainty is our own happiness. Life exists in a chaos of variables that we can only pretend to control. There is often no rhyme or reason to life, and pointing blame can be as futile as using a net to capture the wind. Focusing on the who and why of a tragedy will only foster bitterness and keep you from seeing the good around you. You will not be able to move forward with your life until you release the hatred in your heart.”

  “Well, then, I fear I may be here for a very long time.”

  “Perhaps,” he said with small smirk before vanishing from sight.

  Chapter 3

  I trudged back along the path until the lights of the house came into view. It was a one-story constructed entirely of wood, save the artfully designed leaded glass windows stretching form floor-to-ceiling—privacy in the forest was obviously not an issue. The home had a simplicity that was uncommon in Fae architecture, but something I greatly appreciated.

  I let myself inside and felt the tension in my shoulders relax as the warm air surrounded me. Whenever I walked, especially at night, returning inside the quiet house was a shocking contrast to the chorus of sounds in the forest. As usual, the empty house was silent. I made for the kitchen to get a glass of water before heading to bed.

  Water in hand, I flicked on the light in the master bedroom and nearly dropped the glass in surprise. The liquid sloshed onto my hand as I jerked to a halt, my eyes glued to the wolf lounging lazily on my bed. Unlike our last encounter, this time he was entirely indifferent to my presence—he didn’t even lift his head from where it rested on the pale blue quilt. His eyes glanced over, and his ears swiveled my direction, but he stayed otherwise unmoved.

  Once I’d recovered from the surprise, my arms crossed over my chest, and I glared down at my unwelcome intruder. “What do you think you’re doing here? Get out. This is my room, my house for that matter—you can’t just let yourself in like you own the place!” My arms started waving about, water splashing onto the ivory rug.