Imago: Chapter 9 - A Mother's Love

CONTENT WARNING: blood, horror elements, death, generally a sad chapter

Áine

Róisín and I take my successor into their quarters. I still cannot believe she is here in front of me, and still cannot believe that Morgyn gave their life for my daughter. I have no idea how they managed to perform such a powerful spell - such a young ascended caster would normally not be able to perform a Dedeathify ritual, of all things. Why did they think it would take them doing this to impress me, I wonder?

All Morgyn had mentioned was that they had learned Necrocall. I did not know that Morgyn knew how to perform the more difficult ritual version of Necrocall, nor did I know that they had learned the Dedeathify spell. I told them not to disturb the dead or do anything to alter the fabric of life and death. Then again, I have been teaching them that Untamed magic knows no boundaries, and also that there are boundaries that need to be placed.

  

 

"This kind soul, Morgyn Ember- they gave me another chance to live again. The spell was too much for them and then they - Oh, it was awful!" 

 

The only reason Róisín is here with me now, is because of what they did. I cannot stand to see them like this - unmoving, pale, smeared with blood.

 

"I don't understand - why would they do this?" I ask, a rhetorical question that escapes my lips in desperation.

 

"They said that this is what you would have wanted-"

 

"It's not what I wanted at all!"

 

Róisín gasps and begins to cry harder, and I immediately feel like the worst mother alive.

 

  

"You...you didn't want me back?"

 

"What? No, darling, of course I wanted you back. I have done since... since I failed you, Róisín. I failed to save you. No apology or reason can excuse that."

"No, no, Mother. You did all you could. I know what you did to the man who killed me, and I know what you did for the sake of other witches. What happened was not your fault, Mother."

 

My poor, blessed girl - how I adore her. She's perfect.

 

"The last conversation I had with you, I argued with you. I was angry with you. I'm so sorry."

 

"No need to apologise, sweetheart. That was centuries ago. You were forgiven long, long ago for that." 

 

"Mother, is there anything we can do for them? If they died by overcharge, is there a chance we could do for them what you did for Father?"

 

Reynold - not a day goes by where I do not think about him. 

 

 

"Perhaps, my dear - but your father was in a state between living and dead. The way it seems to me is that Morgyn has died in the traditional sense..." 

 

Sometimes, a small jolt of raw magic could restart a spellcaster's vital organs, but it rarely ever worked, and only very, very soon after their death. Necrocall is out of the question, as they likely had not fully crossed over into the realm of the dead, so there is no ghost to call. Dedeathify is also out of the question; any spell that involved casting typical magic on them is no good. Overcharging an overcharged spellcaster will not help. There is, however, another option- an ability granted to me by witches' blood.

"Róisín, my child- I may have an idea. I'll need to gather some bits and pieces from the alchemy store cupboard."

She sits beside Morgyn, staring down to them and talking to them, trying to ease their spirit.

"It was horrifying, Mother. Their nose, eyes, and their mouth- blood started streaming, and they wouldn't respond to me, and then they just collapsed, started choking, and stopped breathing, and-"

 

"Mother, I feel terribly guilty. I should never have accepted their offer to bring me into this world. I didn't know- I didn't know that they were going to die. If I had not been so selfish and just said no, this kind soul would not have departed. I just wanted to see you again, Mother. We have been apart for too long." 

 

"If I am to be honest with you, my dear, I am not sure that Morgyn knew, either." I try to quell my fury at their disobedience, for my daughter's sake.

 

"Mother - could you tell me a little more about them?" she asks, curious about the desk lamp.

 

"I don't see why not. They are a student of Untamed magic, what you remember as Wild magic."

 

"Untamed sounds a lot scarier." She flicks the lamp on and off, mesmerised by the light.

 

"So it does. They are seventeen years old, and I plan to make them my successor since I've been in this position too long."

 

I have never felt so grateful in my life for this moment- the chance to see my wonderful Róisín again. When I look at her, I cannot erase the memories, where her flesh is burning from her bones...but here she is, whole, untouched, unharmed- and, sadly, an anomaly of Nature. Seeing her again like this, with any luck, those horrific memories will be once again replaced with her sweet smile.

"Mother- if you can only save one of us, please save Morgyn. They are supposed to be alive- I am not. As overjoyed as I am to see you again, and as curious as I am about this world - I realise now that this is not meant to be."

 

 I am left with an impossible decision, and one that I do not have very long to make.

 

Róisín Fiadh Ó Sé, my daughter, who was murdered over three hundred years ago. Beautiful, kind, and loving, but resurrected into a world that she may never come to terms with, given how different it is from what she knows. As much as it pains me to say it, and as much as I miss her company - she is not meant to be alive.

Morgyn Cade Ember, my dear student and eventual successor. They lost their life to a blend of kindness and hubris, but I do not know whether they performed the ritual knowing there was a chance they would not survive. Without Morgyn, I have no successor to become Sage of Untamed Magic when I pass.

Without Róisín, I will lose my chance to give her the life she deserves. Without Morgyn, I will no longer have a successor, and Morgyn is supposed to be alive at this time. Reclaim the past, or safeguard the future...

Someone has to die.

 

I allow Róisín to take a look around the academy grounds, but not to leave the portal.

 

 

Morgyn

This was never part of my plan.

 

I walk through an unknown place. I am not breathing. Everything that made me human has been taken from me in this realm. I heard a voice not too long ago, which faded into nothingness- the voice of what may have been Róisín.

 
Before I ended u[ here, I remember an image- as if I were looking down at my own body. Róisín called for help and held me in her arms. I remember the blood, the dark, vein-stricken circles under my eyes. My body crackling with magic. a warm trickling of something from my eyes, nose and mouth, my vision growing blurry, my entire body burning with an aching pain, then what felt like a terrible migraine. After- the black void, the weightlessness, the separation of the soul from the body.

 

The afterlife is not entirely devoid of life, it seems - there is a random scattering of trees, rocks and flowers, like an unfinished painting. A figure appears from the shadows, a translucent, demonic figure with long claws, a flowing cloak, a shady robe and striking blue eyes. Its teeth are as monstrous as its enormous wings. Is it an angel? A devil? A reaper?

 

"Morgyn Ember," He replies, holding out a hand. "I welcome you to the realm of the departed. Your death was far from peaceful, but we will do all we can to ensure a peaceful transition from the living world into the afterlife. I hope the decoration is to your satisfaction - it is all we remember of your world." Its voice is airy and sounds like multiple people speaking at once, with an underlying sound of a voice speaking in reverse. "Do not be afraid. Though we look intimidating, we do not intend to be."

 

"Greetings. May I kindly ask who - or what - you are?" 

 

"Of course. We are night-wraiths, the remains of those who lost their lives to spellcasting overcharge. We roam the afterlife in constant despair, always reaching out for a level of power we shall never achieve."

 

The Curse of the Night-Wraith can happen to spellcasters who suffer near-death experiences, in which the victim cannot sleep and is tormented by them. In time, this is what I will become - a heartbroken ghost in a constant fruitless search for the next surge of power...

No. I will not become a night-wraith. My search for power will not be fruitless.

 

"I am sorry to hear of your despair, Night-Wraith, but I shall not become one of you."

 

Its eyes surge in brightness and it flies around me, flashing its grisly teeth at me. If I am powerful enough to kill myself accidentally with my own magic, then perhaps I am powerful enough to find my way out of here before I become one of them. 

 

"There is little other choice," it replies, its voice low-pitched and flat. "This is your fate. This is our punishment for our greed and desperation."

 

"Greed? I did what I did as a gift for my mentor!"

 

"And you paid with your life. This is where it all ends."

 

"For others, Night-Wraith, maybe, but not for me. I am in line to be the Sage of Untamed Magic. The laws of nature can be broken by those that are brave enough to do so. I will cheat death." 

  

 

"Your conceit means nothing to the dead!" the night-wraith screeches.

 

More of its kind fly in and surround me like a flock of vultures, desperate to feast on the crumbs of the world they once knew. Who knows how long they have been like this for. What kind of an afterlife is this?

 

"I will escape this place - have no doubt about that."

 

  

"No, you will not!" one of the night-wraiths screams. "We welcomed you with all the kindness we could give, and it was not enough for you? We did not find a way out! Why do you think we would allow you to do the same?"

 

"I raised someone from the dead myself - that is how I ended up here! Death is not the end; it can be reversed!"

 

"You have defied Nature, the way that we did, that we paid the price for! You have resurrected a young woman into a world she may never come to understand. It is only fair that you also pay the price!"

 

 

"I gave a murdered woman a chance to live again in a world where she would not be burned for her blood!" 

 

 

 

The night-wraiths' screeches grow louder and they come closer and closer...

Áine

 

I feel I must explain the situation, to the best of my ability, to the other Sages. Poor Keisha is in tears.

 

 

"They were- they were just a kid. This is terrible..."

"Áine, I am going to be blunt about this-"

 

"How very surprising, Ethren," I reply. "What is on your mind, pray tell?" 

"Guys, please, not now-"

"I know what Untamed magic is capable of, Áine, and I know what is likely going through your mind- but I say it's not worth altering the way of the world any further than it already has been."

"Ethren, without a successor-"

 

 "Morgyn is entirely incapable of becoming your successor! They are out of control! I highly doubt that anyone is going to be content working alongside a necromancer, let along being taught by one! The way I see it, keep Róisín alive- don't alter what shouldn't be altered any further. In the long run, I frankly don't believe we need a new Untamed Sage. All of the other Untamed spellcasters seem to have a habit of almost killing the people around them."

 

 "Then I suggest you keep your distance, Ethren!"

 

 

"Knock it off - both of you! We are talking this out like adults, whether you want to or not!" 

I do not wish to upset Keisha. For her sake, I calm down. I have never seen her this serious, or this upset.

 

 

"Ethren, it's not up to you who lives or who dies. Sure, it's not up to Morgyn either, but let's face it- how many of us did regrettable stuff with our magic when we were teenagers?"

"I didn't."

"That's because you don't want to admit it because it'll make you a hypocrite, Ethren. You know what? I Morphiated my ex-partner into a gnome for twenty-four hours on my lawn for cheating on me. I used Strangeify on his new lover who said terrible things about me. Sure, maybe that's not comparable to necromancy- but I still used magic to take advantage of the world in a way that suited me. That's what spellcasting is all about- manipulating what's natural to suit us. It's not natural to teleport, or create food out of thin air, or to make things grow where they shouldn't, or to revive dying plants. Every spellcaster in existence is guilty of altering the course of nature. Do you think they all deserve to die, too?"

Ethren is completely stunned by Keisha's uncommon serious demeanour.

 

"Untamed magic has as much of a place as Mischief or Practical does. After all, teaching magic is about balance- without a balance of magical education, then one would become superior to the other, and all Hell would break loose. Your school is no better or worse than mine, or Áine's."

Keisha looks to me, and her angered expression fades into one of concern. 

"Áine, what happens from here is entirely up to you and Róisín. However, I want to offer my advice to you- look to your future. You need someone to carry the Untamed torch when you're not well enough to do so. Morgyn Ember is your only option, and will probably be your only option for a while. They are still young; we weren't too different when we were younger. When they're older, they'll be different. I hate to say it, Áine, I really do, but some things in the past are best left there- even the things you love."

Ethren and I look at each other, not with forgiveness, but with a sense of mutual understanding.

"Thank you, Keisha, for your wise words," I say to her, giving her a caring embrace. "I am proud of you, child. I always will be."

At that moment, Róisín heads up the stairs. "Sorry if I'm intruding-"

"Never, my dear..."

 

"I heard what you were discussing. Keisha is right- let me go, Mother. I am not supposed to be here. I traded Morgyn's life for my own. I did not expect it to kill them. I am part of your past, Mother. Morgyn Ember is part of your future."

Given the way that Dedeathify would work in this situation, where the caster dies during the casting of the spell...It means that, in a way, the spell has not actually been fully completed. Bringing Morgyn back to life would break the spell they placed on Róisín. She would return to the realm of the dead.

"You won't remember me burning now, Mother, I hope. You'll remember me coming back to experience the wonderful realm you built. That's...that's a good thing, isn't it?"

 

I suppose, when she puts it that way...it is the only comfort either of us will get out of this.

 

"I will be watching you, Mother- always. We will meet again, when the veil between worlds is thin. I promise. If not then, we will meet when it is your time, dear Mother - if it will ever be your time."

 

"I love you, child - more than anything."

 

"I love you too, Mother. It has been wonderful seeing you again. I missed you so, so much." 

 

With that, I say a final heartfelt goodbye to my daughter.

 

She is correct. The first time I saw her die, I saw her burning and screaming. This time, when we part, she is safe, healthy, and happy. In time, these new memories of our parting will be the ones I try to conjure when I think about Róisín. In time, hopefully, the memories of fire and flames will be replaced by love and the warmth of family. My heart feels as if it is being torn in two having to let her go once again, but...

 

Róisín heads back down the stairs and sits at the edge of the realm, staring into the sky.

 

 

My only hope of bringing Morgyn back from the dead is by using my innate witches' power- spells no modern caster could hope to learn. I cannot risk overcharging them again. With the magic of the witches of old, I will share a part of my life force with them - a spell known back in the day as Vivifico. I know the risks, but I have no other option. 

‘ Witches' blood’- sanguis maleficarum, our traditional magic- is different from the modern magic that it eventually became; it cannot be passed on through any kind of ascension, and has less of a chance of overcharge, or worsening someone who has already suffered overcharge. The magic of today's casters is so different from the magic of old that the two have no worsening effect on the other.

 

The only way witches' magic can be passed to another is through family bloodlines, or sharing one’s life force with another. Many witches would not want to share such a precious thing, but I have little choice. I am over three hundred years old- I have lived long enough. Morgyn is not even an adult yet...I want them to have as long and and fulfilling a life as this world is willing to give them in normal circumstances.

I gather all that I need for the spell - a set of scales with two gemstones, one coloured green and shaped like a 'plumbob' - an odd shape relevant to worship of the Watcher about one hundred years before its demise. An hourglass. A black candle. A selection of flowers to honour the dead, and a selection of crystals to power the spell and act as a conductor for the magic. I surround Morgyn's body with them.

 

  

I light the candle. I think of the Sun as She shines on her children- the fauna and flora- all the participants of the circle of life, which I was about to break... 

  
"Morgyn Ember, before you pass on to the realm of the dead, heed my call; I will share my life with you and bring you back to this realm, in flesh and blood."

I place a drop of my own blood on the candle, warm my hand over it momentarily, and then I place my hand against their heart.  

 

 

The light from my palm envelopes them, and it feels as if I am dying. The entire realm is further crumbling around me. The ground vibrates underneath, and the entire world turns to a blur.

 

The entirety of the realm's magic is connected to the key around my neck, which in turn is connected to my life force and my magic. As my life force becomes depleted, the realm begins to fall to pieces. There's a gentle, soft thudding against my hand with a steady tempo; their heart is restarting.

 

Once I am done, the tremors cease.

 

 

     

 

I am exhausted, weak, and in pain, but I sense warmth coming back to my successor. I fear that, given their brush with death, the likelihood is that they have contracted the curse of the night-wraiths.

 

I notice a small, jerky movement. Their breaths are sudden and heavy. They mumble to themselves in a mantra, get away from me, get away from me. They try to claw at themselves, as if trying to brush something off- but I grab their hand just in time.

"Morgyn, my child, they cannot hurt you," I say, in a quiet voice. "Breathe, slowly. In, out, in, out - try to follow my pace."

I will have to wait until tomorrow before I can cast Decursify on them, to be on the safe side. It may even take more than one casting. For now, I will have to stay beside them and be sure they will not injure themselves in their frenzied state-

"Róisín! Where is she? Is she-"

 

"She is outside, Morgyn, but now that you have-"

 

"No! I must see to her at once!"

 

They scramble out of the bed in a panic, don their coat and run outside, almost tripping up on their way. I suppose I owe them both the little time they have left together to say goodbye.

 

 

Morgyn

The ghosts, the night-wraiths, they won't stop screaming. They won't stop yelling. I can't get them out of my mind. The Magic Realm doesn't feel too different from the world of the dead, come to think of it... my body burns as it regains its normal temperature, and every breath, every heartbeat, feels alien to me. How long was I there for?

 

I can still feel their claws digging into me as Sage Ó Sé had saved my life. I did everything I could to resist their grabbing and pulling, desperate to return to this side of existence - but I am overflowing with a guilt so heavy it feels as if I have a stone sphere chained to my ankle. I have wronged so many people with what I did - not just a mother and daughter, but the night-wraiths...

 

Róisín is overlooking the sky. 

 

"Róisín! It's Morgyn! We need to talk!"

  

She turns to me, a little concerned at first, and then gives me a warm smile.

 

"Róisín, could it be that we could both exist alongside each other? There's so much I want to show you! Oh, I thought that-"

 

"No, Morgyn, I'm afraid that won't be possible. We cannot exist alongside each other. My mother used some of her own life force to bring you back to life, therefore interrupting and cancelling the unfinished Dedeathify spell."

 

No. No, it can't be. After all that happened, Róisín will return to the realm of the dead, and my own teacher...gave some of her own life force to me? I can't stop the tears from flowing. My mind has been torn to shreds from all that has happened, but even though I died, I am not the one who has been most hurt by this.

 

"Róisín, I'm so sorry, both to you and your mother. I did this to make her happy."

 

 

 "Morgyn, it should be that should be apologising. I didn't think about how the spell might affect you when I agreed to be brought back. I killed you.!

 

"You didn't, I promise. It was me. I overestimated a few things. I only wanted to please your mother and give you a second chance-"

 

"And you did exactly that."

 

"Oh?"

 

She gradually becomes intangible, but her ghost looks different this time - there's no fire in it, and it shines a bright, joyful green colour. A bright light shines from her chest.

 

"When I first died, Morgyn, it was tied to a stake with a murderous, cold-hearted man sneering over me as I burned. This time, it will have been safe in the company of my mother, marvelling at the amazing world she created. I have longed to be held by her for over three centuries, and today, I got one of my wishes."

 

That may be the only positive to have come out of what I have done. With some time, perhaps Sage Ó Sé's memories will become replaced with this, and Róisín's spirit can truly rest.

 

"Such a wondrous world you were born into, Morgyn. It seems some things are a little easier now than they used to be, in terms of the little things. I especially like your magic desk light."

 

"My desk light? But it's just electricity - oh - well, I suppose it is less hassle than candles."

 

"Electricity? Oh, the witches of old were correct! We always said electric magic would power objects someday. How fascinating is that? Oh, and those flags in your room are beautiful colours. What country are they from?"

 

"Oh, they aren't for a country. They're a little hard to explain, but it is a sort of 'sign' for the fact I am neither man or woman."

 

"So people like you still exist? How wonderful! My grandfather Oskar lived as both in his time. He will be so proud when I tell him about this!" 

  

"Róisín, our time together was painfully short, but you are a valued friend and a lovely person. My mentor is blessed to have you as a daughter. I promise, I will bring you offerings to your grave every single day for the rest of my life, where time and health allows it. What sort of things do you like?"

 

 "You don't have to do that, Morgyn."

 

"I do."

 

"Well, if you insist, I like candles, flowers, anything related to wolves or the moon."

 

"Then that is what I shall bring you, dear Róisín. I wish you a safe journey back to the afterlife, and I will never forget about you. I apologise once again for all that I've done."

"Thank you, Morgyn. Thank you for reuniting my mother and I in far better circumstances than in our own time. I appreciate you. Please, look after her - I know she will look after you. You mean a lot to her."

 

As Róisín's ghost dissipates, green mist swirling towards the exit portal, I realise the gravity of what I've done. 

 

I should feel incredible. I cast an incredibly-powerful ritual spell at such a young age and a somewhat-low rank. I performed a spell which brought someone back to life. I cheated death - but I only did that because of my mentor's sacrifice.

 

The insults and criticism the night-wraiths currently scream in my ear, they're all true. I feel truly alive again, and in that, I feel crushing remorse and self-hatred for all that I've done. I owe absolutely everyone an apology - more than an apology.

 

How am I ever going to make up for this?