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Misty and Morgan sit side by side in a large room. Morgan knows that what’s about to happen will turn her life upside down forever, either in the best or in the worst of ways. She has no choice but to pray for the best. Even though she’s profoundly convinced that she will be the better leader for the village, the decision is out of her hands.
Misty is sitting beside Morgan, prim and proper, back straight, head up high. Morgan briefly wonders when her weak, clumsy, looney little sister learned to look the part. But Misty can’t be the Master, no matter what the rumors say. She can’t be the Master.
Because Morgan will be.
“...and that is why I will be leaving Kurain village,” Mia says.
Morgan’s mind goes back to the present at her niece’s words. Mia came in a few minutes ago, disturbing Morgan’s otherwise calm and peaceful afternoon tea. Morgan could tell it was ‘important’, but what is important for Mia usually isn’t for Morgan. Most of the time, it’s about Maya, and Morgan could hardly care less. When Mia accepted a cup of bitter green tea and didn’t empty the sugar bowl in the cup, Morgan had a feeling the conversation was going to be a little more serious than Mia’s meaningless questions.
Morgan looks up from her cup and stares at her niece. Mia is staring back at her, quite obviously forcing herself to look at Morgan in the eyes.
Misty looks straight ahead. Morgan can’t help but glance at her. That’s how it’s always been. Misty only looks ahead. The people around her, the environment, what is going on behind the scene… she doesn’t care about it. She doesn’t even see it.
The village elders enter the room and Morgan looks straight ahead too. This is her birthright. She can’t possibly be denied a position she’s trained for all her life. A position she gave up so much to acquire. What can she be, if she’s not the Master?
But there’s a catch. There was a meeting. Rumored to be about the next Master. It hasn’t happened in centuries.
And now there is this summon.
Morgan can’t pretend she hasn’t been hearing what the villagers say. She can’t pretend she hasn’t been everyone’s laughing stock for years. She can’t pretend even if Misty likes to.
Mia pauses. She takes a breath and continues, “I will forsake my ‘mystic’ title and all claims to the Master position with it, leaving Maya as the only potential successor to… to the current Master.”
Mia wavers and lifts her cup. Morgan notices the slight tremble of her hand but doesn’t dwell on it. She hardly cares. Mia continues, “As a runway, I will forever be deemed unsuitable to run the village.”
Morgan’s fingers grip the cup tighter and her mind fills with thoughts. All it takes is one word. Did her niece have to use this word? Suddenly Morgan is back in that room, on the day she lost everything and everyone she held dear. She can smell the incense, the sage. The smell makes her sick now. Why does Morgan not perform any channeling anymore? No one bothered to ask because no one cares.
“Mystic Morgan, eldest daughter of the Fey clan’s main branch, is deemed unsuitable for holding the Master title. Her spiritual power and that of her descendants being almost insignificant for someone of the main branch and subsequently weaker to her sister’s and her sister’s descendant, primogeniture will not apply in the succession. Thus, the title of Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique shall be granted to Mystic Misty, younger daughter of the Fey clan’s main branch. This decision is made for the good of the Fey clan, village of Kurain, and Kurain School of Channeling.”
“I will withdraw my share of the Fey clan vaults as soon as I turn eighteen and will be leaving the next day.” …and her sister’s descendant… “I have already made most arrangements, so you won’t need to concern yourself with me when I’m gone.”
Morgan lets it sink in. She stares at Mia’s face as she rambles about expenses, about studying, about law school. Morgan slowly realizes what is happening.
Mia is throwing it away.
The Master title.
Her birthright.
The position she trained for all her life.
The position that could give her everything she ever wanted and more.
She has it, it’s basically in her hands now that Misty’s gone.
And yet, she’s giving it up.
And to whom?
Her little sister?
Her weak, clumsy, looney little sister?
Morgan breathes in.
Morgan breathes out, hardly believing she still had air in her lungs.
She's stunned. She’s a statue. She’s not real. Her blood is ice. No, her blood is lava and boiling in her veins like a volcano awake at last. She has entered a different world. She has entered a nightmare.
She can’t believe what she’s hearing.
She can’t believe how still she’s sitting.
Morgan breathes in. Morgan breathes out.
When she moves again, she hates that it’s in time with Misty.
They nod and acknowledge the decision.
Morgan nods.
“...aunt Morgan?”
Morgan forces herself to look at Mia, but she only finds her sister’s usual pitying, sorry, worried face. And even though all Morgan wants to ask is why, the only words that get out of her mouth are weak, pale, and tasteless. Nothing but an acknowledgment of the decision.
“I see.”
Even though she tries to hide it, relief washes on Mia’s face. Morgan’s jaw clenches. Mia has always looked too much like Misty for her own good. She’s always been too much like Misty for her own good. Morgan can’t stand that face of hers.
Morgan walks out of the room first. She hovers more than she walks, she doesn’t know where she is or where she’s going, despite knowing Fey Manor like the back of her hand. But she can’t stand to look at Misty’s face right now. She can’t stand to be anywhere near her right now. She can’t stand to be in Kurain right now.
Right now, she needs to get out of her own skin.
“Morgan! Stop, please!”
Morgan does. She stops. And then she turns and glares at her sister. Like a volcano, awake at last, Morgan will erupt.
“Do you have any idea what just happened?" Morgan says, and she can hardly believe how calm she sounds. "Do you realize the consequences? Do you realize what it means for me?”
Misty’s lips part, but she doesn’t speak. Morgan keeps glaring at Misty. Her sister's silence should calm Morgan down, but it does the opposite. If Misty doesn't speak, Morgan has to look at her. And she can't stand that face of hers.
“I haven’t taken the measure of what just happened yet,” Misty says quietly.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. At least have the honesty to admit it.”
“I didn’t know! How could I have—!”
“You knew. Of course you did, otherwise why were you so calm?”
“Calm? I wasn’t calm! I was beyond myself, what are you—”
“...mom?”
Misty freezes. Morgan glances down at the nine year-old and she’s struck at just how much she looks like her mother. That is her crime. But it’s good that she’s here too. Morgan has a message, and it’s for both of them.
“Don’t talk to me ever again, Mystic Misty. As far as I’m concerned, the Fey clan is only my daughters and myself.”
Morgan puts down her cup of tea. The Fey clan… today, what even is the Fey clan anymore? As Morgan calms down, a thought flashes in her mind. With Mia gone, Maya is next in line. The weak, clumsy, looney little sister. What if Maya was deemed unsuitable too?
Morgan’s lips twitch into a strained smirk. She hides it behind her sleeve.
How easy can it be, to ruin the potential of Maya Fey? Morgan has seen what her niece is capable of. She has first-class spiritual power, she’s not afraid to use it and, above all, she follows her training dutifully. Maya will be as powerful as Misty, there is no doubt. But with the proper hindrance…
What would happen if Maya Fey crashed and burned? With Mia out of the picture, who would be left?
Morgan smiles.
I would.
Being the last choice doesn’t matter if you’re chosen at all. Not when you either have everything or nothing. On the contrary, there is something heroic in being the last one standing. There is something noble in being the one to save the village from ruin despite having been denied so many times.
What can she be, if she’s not the Master?
She’ll be the Master. No matter what it takes.
Morgan looks up at Mia again. Her niece is waiting for an answer. Despite having everything ready to leave, she’s still waiting for a green light.
Like mother, like daughter.
“Go,” Morgan says, cold, detached, methodic. “Go if that’s what you want to do. You’re not my burden anymore.”
Those are harsh words, even for Morgan’s standards. Morgan would have relished in Mia getting angry, in Mia talking back to her, in Mia crying. But Mia only stands up, holding herself high and proud. The ghost of Misty Fey is written all over her daughter’s face. For a second, as Morgan stares at Mia, she sees her sister. She sees her at the dinner table, she sees her by her side in the training hall, she sees her drag Morgan forward, insolent and care-free. She sees her during that wretched ceremony.
Misty, prim and proper, head up high. Ready to take on the world. Ready to take up a role that isn’t hers.
The Unsuitable and The Usurper. The Fey daughters, what a pair.
When Misty utters the oath, it takes Morgan everything in her not to storm out of the room.
Misty will break this promise, like she broke so many before.
And Morgan is the only one who knows it.
That is her burden.
“Aunt Morgan,” Mia says, stopping halfway to the door.
Morgan doesn’t look up. She knows full well what Mia is going to say. If she could, she’d silence her before her niece could hear the words.
“Please, take care of Maya for me.”
Morgan’s eye twitches. Here comes the ghost again.
That night, or more, early morning. At the gate. Misty’s bags and her half-hearted plea and Morgan’s answer. It’s cold, but the night is clear. Morgan can smell pine wood, the mountain air. She sees Misty’s face in the moonlight as she’s already halfway gone.
And Morgan hears her words.
They have nothing to do with me.
Morgan’s jaw clenches as she stares at Mia. They have everything to do with her. They’re her. Morgan wonders. Has Misty ever taken a second to look at her own daughter? Mia is her. She’s everything she is. Morgan scoffs. Can you see this? She’s even leaving like you did.
Morgan can’t stand the sight of her. Mia breathing, existing and still being in the village feels like a million arrows to Morgan’s heart, piercing her through. But her niece just got her a step closer to getting everything she always wanted. She just gave Morgan a purpose again. A goal. What is this? Hope? It’s been a while.
Morgan gives Mia a small nod. A proper, respectful nod. Enough for Mia to trust her. Enough for Mia to go and clear the way. Enough for Morgan’s plan to be set into motion.
Oh, they shouldn’t worry– Misty, Mia. Morgan will take care of Maya all right.
That’s a promise. And Morgan, for one, always keeps them.