Morrigan's Bidding

by Daniel Schinhofen

  “Shaping is not a warrior’s Talent, and is viewed with disdain by any warrior.” As she said the words, her eyes went briefly to one of the houses.

  “People like Whelan?”

  “And others. Darragh didn’t always think highly of Shapers,” Fiona said softly.

  “Well, fuck’em. I would love to try.”

  “Place your hand on mine,” Fiona instructed him.

  Putting his hand over hers, he felt warmth and a faint vibration. “That’s odd.”

  “That is my Talent at work. I can channel it through my normal hand to smooth the wood and Shape it. If I focus, I can cut through the wood with it—like when I pulled this section from the log.”

  The odd vibration started to spread from her hand to his. “It feels like my hand is vibrating in time with yours,” he told her.

  Fiona focused on their hands, her eyes widening, “How are you doing that so easily?”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Sean said as he felt the vibration increasing. “What is happening?”

  “Your energy is syncing with mine,” Fiona whispered as she slipped her hand out from under his, then put it on top of his. “Let me guide you,” she said quickly. “Just think of the wood moulding at your touch.” She edged over, pressing into his side as she began to guide his hand.

  Doing his best to ignore Fiona’s body pressed against his, he focused on his hand and what she wanted him to do. Barely touching the wood, he focused on it slimming beneath his touch. Eyes widening, he watched as the wood began to form as Fiona guided him down the section she had been working on. “Holy fuck,” he whispered, warmth seeping from the log into his hand.

  “Amazing,” Fiona breathed in his ear as she watched their hands. “You can’t be human, not with this amount of Talent at shaping wood.”

  The vibration spread from Sean’s hand down his arm. “Fiona… it’s spreading,” his voice held a concerned note.

  “Really?” Fiona’s voice became excited as her metallic hand rested on his back. “Just focus on the soon to be chair for a moment, everything will be fine.”

  Swallowing hard, Sean tried to shape the section of log into a chair leg to match the other ones he’d seen. As he worked under Fiona’s guidance, the vibration spread across his shoulders and into his chest, the warmth suffusing throughout his body. “So warm. It’s like the wood wants to be Shaped,” Sean murmured as his eyes closed, the image of a chair forming in his mind.

  Fiona kept her hands on him, her breath catching in her throat as Sean began to lead the magic. Leaning forward, and subsequently into him, she watched fascinated as he worked. A tear formed in her green eye as she watched him. “So beautiful, how can you do it so easily?” The question was asked in awe as Sean’s hand slipped from hers and his other hand came up to start on the fourth leg.

  Blinking his eyes, Sean found a fully formed chair before him. His mouth was dry and a warm body pressed against his back. “What happened?”

  “You Shaped the chair,” Fiona whispered from behind him. She leaned back, removing her body from his. “I used to Shape that easily, before…”

  “But how...?” Sean asked, his confusion clear to her.

  “I don’t know,” Fiona said as she wrapped her arms around her legs. “It shouldn’t be possible. Like you using Dark Cutter for so long. It breaks everything I know about my Talent, gifted from my family’s bloodline.”

  “I don’t have any…” Sean began, before recalling his gifts from the gods and the quasi-character screen from earlier. He focused on it, willing it to appear so he could see it.

  Sean Aragorn MacDougal

  Human

  Age: 33

  Gifts:

  Metal Bones, Viney Muscles, Mithril Blood, Magic Bond, Mending Body, Death Ward, Linguist, Hunter’s Blood, Infinite Possibilities

  Spells:

  Talents:

  Shaping (Able to shape material you share a connection with.)

  Bonded:

  “Only those with a deep connection to plant life should be able to do this,” Fiona went on.

  “If…” Sean paused, then spoke very softly, “if my body wasn’t exactly normal. If my muscles, for instance, were made of a special vine, would that account for it?”

  Sean thought he had seen her shocked before, but he had been wrong. Eyes opening to almost the size of saucers, Fiona’s jaw dropped and she reached out her hand to touch Sean’s neck. Her fingers pressed gently into his neck. “They gave you a body of plant and metal?” The question was asked just as softly as his had been.

  “Yeah,” Sean said as he gulped, her hand still resting on his neck. “Umm… Fiona… your hand.”

  Snatching her hand away as if his skin had erupted in lava, Fiona leaned away from him. “I…” she broke off, clearly at a loss.

  “You still have work to do, right?” Sean asked as he looked around for some water to ease his parched throat. “Can we work on the projects together?”

  Remaining frozen for a moment, Fiona stared at him. She stood up suddenly and went to the door of her house, not saying anything. Sighing, Sean watched her go with a growing fear. Fuck, I scared her off, Sean grumbled internally.

  Fiona returned a moment later, with a pitcher and two cups. “You should be thirsty,” she said as she poured him a cup and held it out.

  He felt his fear vanish, replaced by happiness. “Thank you, Fiona,” he said, taking the cup. It was the same mint tea as before, and he eagerly gulped it. Finishing his drink, he found himself feeling refreshed.

  “I would like to Shape beside you,” Fiona said, licking her lips. “Can I rest my hand,” her metallic hand flexed as she said the word, “on your back as we work? I thought I could feel it respond to your talent. I’ve been missing its use for Shaping for so long…”

  “I would be fine with that,” Sean said, taking her hand. “I don’t mind it at all.”

  With a beautiful smile, she pulled him over to the logs. “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

  Chapter Twelve

  The night passed by in a blur for Sean. He could recall snippets of conversation about what they were crafting from the logs. The thing he could recall most was Fiona, and her light, clear, laughter at some of the inane jokes he’d made. Sitting in one of the chairs that they had made, Sean looked over the chairs and wooden cots that were illuminated by the blue moonlight.

  “We did good work,” Sean said as he looked at Fiona, who seemed wide awake.

  “We did indeed. I never would have thought we could finish all three logs tonight.” Eyes going to him, then to the objects around them, her smile bloomed a little more. “I had incentive to strive again, for the first time in years, and I realize now that I’m not as crippled as I thought I was. If anything, I might be better able to do my Shaping. I hadn’t considered letting my energy flow through my mithril limb. I tried it once, shortly after my Shame, and I couldn’t get the energy to flow.”

  “Maybe you just needed to adjust to it,” Sean suggested as he stood up. “I’m surprised I’m so used to this body as is.”

  Fiona got to her feet, biting her lower lip. “Would you like to see one more thing Shapers can do?”

  “Of course,” Sean said eagerly. “If you are the teacher, then I’m sure it will be amazing.”

  Grabbing the thick staff that she had set aside during their work, she avoided his eyes. “Shaping is not viewed as a warrior’s Talent. But if you know how, and practice, it can be something most warriors would kill for.”

  Stepping away from the furniture, she made sure she had a good fifteen feet of room. Taking a deep breath, she bowed her head and her feet slid apart into a broad stance. With no warning, she began a series of attacks with the staff. Sean watched her with interest as she flowed through the motions, her dress not hindering her movements at all. Moving as if she was dancing with invisible opponents, she stepped lightly as the staff flashed in attacks and defensive blocks.

  His breath was caught in his
throat as he watched the mesmerizing performance. His eyes widened as the staff changed between one step and the next. It was no longer a staff, but a sword that she continued to use in the routine, adapting her moves to the new weapon seamlessly.

  “Amazing,” Sean whispered as he considered the idea of being able to shape items while engaged in combat.

  As her dance began to go faster, the sword changed again, becoming two smaller blades. Shaking his head at her grace and ability to fight while using her Talent, he couldn’t help but feel she was beautiful in more ways than he had previously thought.

  With a sudden flourish, the twin blades came together and the staff returned for one last flurry of attacks. She ended with the staff aimed at Sean, and a small secretive smile on her lips. “It can be a warrior’s Talent, as you have seen,” her voice was a bit fast from the exertion.

  “Can the sword and daggers hold up to metal?” Sean asked as he stepped around the staff to her side.

  “You use the extra wood to harden the edge. It isn’t as sharp as a metallic blade, but it can still take a hit or two. As you go to strike, you focus on the edge and thin it down; if you have the Talent, you can form a cutting edge for a few moments.”

  “Amazing,” Sean said as one hand lightly touched the staff and his other hand touched her mithril shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, Fiona. You have shown me so much. I should repay you in some way.”

  Shaking her head, her hair cascaded to cover her face. “No, we are even. We should move the chairs over to Darragh’s home.” Quickly moving away from him, she set the staff aside and grabbed one of the chairs.

  “If that is your command,” Sean murmured as he snagged a chair in each hand and followed her.

  Fiona got everything arranged as she wanted, the two pausing to finish off the tea that she had retrieved from her house. “I’m going to sleep good today,” Sean said, his eyes beginning to droop.

  “Sean,” Fiona said his name, then paused for a moment. “Darragh is busy with the wives stopping in.” Pausing again, the next few words were a bit fast, “You can sleep on my floor instead, if you’d like.”

  Images of Fiona and him in the same room consumed his mind for a moment before he was able to push them aside. “Are you sure you want that?” Sean asked as he looked at the village. “I wouldn’t want your reputation to suffer just so I can sleep.”

  Her soft hand took his, “It’s just sleep, and my reputation with them can’t get much worse than it already is. Yours might, though, so it is up to you.”

  Glancing at her, but only seeing her hair blocking her face, Sean squeezed her hand. “I will take my teacher up on her offer of a place to lay my head.”

  Her hand spasmed on his as he answered her, his choice of words invoking their own thoughts in her mind. “Yes. Yes, that is fine. I even have a cover and pillow of my own that I can share.”

  One of the doors in the village opened and Myna came out. She looked at the pair, who quickly stopped holding hands. Myna turned to approach them, but stopped as she saw a wooden cot before her. Lifting her eyes to Sean and Fiona, she bowed before picking it up and taking it back into her home.

  “Why did we pick her to give the bed to?” Sean asked. “I mean, we are five short.”

  “She is the only one who hasn’t given me grief the way the others do,” Fiona said. “Besides, I think she will actually try to help you learn. This might give her a little more incentive for that.”

  “Whelan is going to be pissed when he finds out,” Sean added.

  “That too,” Fiona giggled. “Let’s go have some breakfast and get the furniture inside for Darragh, now that the others are waking.”

  Misa greeted them as they came in, rather taken aback when they brought the long table in. Fiona was having a little difficulty taking the one end by herself, so Misa helped once they made it into the room. Placing the table in the middle of the room, it took up the majority of the space.

  “Chairsss?” Misa asked.

  “We’ll get them,” Fiona told her. “You focus on food.”

  “Yesss,” Misa replied as she went into the kitchen.

  Darragh came out of his room just as the last chair was brought in. “Darragh,” Sean called out, “wait a second. Fiona brought over the table and chairs.”

  “I thought something had changed,” Darragh said. “You were able to finish all of the chairs?”

  “I had some help,” Fiona said. “Sean is adept at Shaping, at least with plant life.”

  “Intriguing,” Darragh said, his brows raised. “What will you be working on next?”

  “Once they bring me more logs, I need to finish the cots,” Fiona said as she turned to the kitchen. “I’m going to help Misa.”

  “That is fine,” Darragh said as his hand found the chair before him. Sitting, his sightless gaze turned to Sean with eerie accuracy. “You finished all three logs?”

  “Yeah,” Sean said as he looked at the table. “Are there going to be specific seats for people?”

  “Whelan will be on my right, Cian on my left, those are the only two that are spoken for. Fiona should sit at the end of the table,” Darragh said.

  Sean took the spot to the right of where Fiona would sit. “I’m exhausted now,” Sean yawned loudly.

  “I do not doubt it,” Darragh said. “You used my axe all day, then Shaped all night. I’m amazed you can even speak coherently.”

  “Some think that even when I’m not tired,” Sean laughed as Whelan entered the room.

  “Morning,” Whelan said tersely, taking the seat to Darragh’s right as if it were his due.

  “Morning,” Sean replied, with Darragh just nodding.

  The other hunters all filed in after Whelan, except for Myna. They all sat in a row with Whelan. Sean thought that was a bad idea, but kept silent.

  “I see that she was able to finish the table, at least,” Whelan said, his voice tinged with scorn.

  “And cots for some of us,” Cian said as he entered the house, followed by the other woodsmen. “I’m sure she’ll finish the others when she gets more wood.”

  “She made you a cot, but I don’t have one?” Whelan hissed.

  “Gave all of us cots,” Eagon said with a grin. “I’m sure you’ll be next.”

  “She gave cots to all of you, while none of my hunters have one?” Whelan’s voice rose. “Is she losing what little is left of her mind? Why would you be a priority over us, when we supply the meat for the table?”

  “Without us bringing her logs, she wouldn’t be able to make anything,” Cian pointed out as the lumberjacks all took seats along the other side of the table.

  “She will do as she needs to, Whelan,” Darragh said. “I trust her to do what must be done. You will get yours in due time.”

  “Of course, chief,” Whelan said with a grimace.

  Myna came into the room a moment later, taking a seat at the end of the hunters group. “You’re late,” Whelan snapped at her.

  “I was delayed, my apologies,” Myna said, her voice soft as she bowed her head to Whelan. “I will not be late again.”

  “Damn well better not,” Whelan growled.

  Sean blinked tiredly at Myna, wondering again why she always wore a leather cap that came down the sides of her head, when none of the others wore any head covering at all. Shaking his head while rubbing his eyes, he wondered if he would be able to stay awake through the meal.

  “Breakfassst,” Misa announced a moment later, carrying out a tray. Fiona followed her with another.

  Placing food before Darragh first, followed by Cian and Whelan, the two women served ten people before returning to the kitchen to bring more food out. Fiona took the seat Sean nudged out for her and gave him a smile as she sat. Misa took her bowl and curled up behind Darragh’s chair to eat.

  The meal was silent, something Sean was becoming used to, with everyone lost in their own thoughts. Sean found the grainy porridge a little bland, but filling, so he was content. The orange
tea was bitter, but it helped give the meal some flavor. Whelan and the others left without comment as soon as everyone finished their meal.

  “Maybe he is bitter at not providing meat last night,” Cian snickered. “Sean,” he said, turning his eyes to the almost sleeping man, “get some rest. We’ll have you with us tomorrow, right?”

  “That’s the plan,” Sean yawned. “Don’t overdo it.”

  “Never,” Cian laughed and led the others out.

  “I ssshall bring the sssleeping ssstuff for you,” Misa said as she finished gathering bowls.

  “Don’t,” Sean yawned again. “I’ll be sacking out on Fiona’s floor. I don’t want to get underfoot here.”

  Darragh’s brows both shot up, “Fiona’s?”

  “I thought it best. My floor is as good as yours, after all,” Fiona said evenly, her cheeks taking on a soft pink hue. “He won’t be in the way when the wives stop by to speak with you, either.”

  “I see,” Darragh said evenly. “I will not counter your wisdom Fiona, but are you sure this is a good idea?”

  Brow furrowed, Fiona nodded, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Sean,” Darragh said, “would you mind excusing us for a minute or two?”

  Shrugging and yawning again, Sean got up. “I’ll be outside.”

  Minutes later, Fiona came out with a pensive look on her face. Stopping next to Sean, her face was turned away from him. “You still wish to sleep on my floor? Realizing it is just for sleep and that is all, right?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Sean said as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “If you’re uncomfortable with the idea, I can sleep here instead. I would rather you be comfortable and happy than have me in your home.”

  Nodding, she turned to meet his sleepy gaze with a smile. “I just needed to verify, is all. Follow me and we’ll have you asleep soon.”

  “Thanks,” Sean yawned as he trailed after Fiona.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sean dreamed of the Tri Dee Dana toasting each other over the freshly made body he now wore. He had just sat up on the slab they’d made him on, and was about able to see the collection of Gods celebrating the completion of his body. Before he could ask a question, loud echoing footsteps made him look to the right, where Morrigan was striding towards him.