Sorcerer from Another World

I coughed, gagged and was forced awake by the stench of smoke. I saw the white smoke at first trailing through the roundhouse as fading wisps. I tried to shake Iris awake so I could stand. 

When I craned my neck back to check on Morgana I saw the rising orange flames burning through the animal hide door and outer walls. My heart thumped and hammered as I realised fire and smoke were growing big enough to bring the house down with us inside it. 

“Wake…” I coughed again. “Up!”

Morgana coughed terribly but did not seem to stir. Iris jumped awake. She crouched low and caught my eye. I coughed again and pointed to the fire. She spotted it and turned back to me. We shared a nod of understanding. 

“Morgana.” She said between coughs. 

I twisted round and bit Morgana’s ear in muddle confusion and desperation. She snapped awake and pinned me. Her strong arms pushed me to the ground and held me. The wide eyed panic in my eyes and her horrible coughing forced her to look around and notice the fire and smoke. 

“Fire.” I croaked. 

“Fire.” She repeated. 

Iris pulled Morgana off me. They held one another’s arms and checked to see if the other was okay. Iris waved for me to follow.

I called on my staff as I coughed into my arm. My eyes stung from the smoke like a thousand pins tapped them. I covered my face with my arm, but it offered poor protection from the thick smoke.  

Iris jogged up and booted a hole through the roundhouse wall away from the fire. She jumped through it as Morgana. I sent Umbra out the back, but let her sleep. A problem for later, with Umbra safe I followed my lovers out the roundhouse. 

The cool breeze of night air blew over our naked sweat, cum and soot stained bodies.

I looked behind and saw our roundhouse burn. The flames were reached from roof to wall and were spreading to consume the building whole. The hot heat wave radiated from the fire, and I stepped back for fear of the flames. The scent of smoke was still thick in the air and I gagged from it. I coughed and spluttered. 

“What?” I asked, dazed. 

“Why?” Iris asked. 

“Them.” Morgana growled.

I turned to see who she was speaking of and my eyes were drawn to the axe blades held to Bryette’s and Tulisa’s throats. 

Behind them stood Shamus with a deeply unpleasant grin. 

“Let them go. Being Galen’s Uncle will not save you if you hurt them.” I warned them. 

The dozen strong crowd were silent and angry at Shamus’ back. I recognised the faces of the smiths we had met the day before along with a few others who had joined this violent, vengeful assault. They were armed with torches, hammers and pots presumably filled with oil. 

It was the first time I had looked at a group of humans who wanted to kill me. I shivered despite my lack of surprise. I suspected that it wouldn’t be the last. Following and protecting Iris and Morgana seemed to be a more dangerous job than expected. 

“The sorcerer and his bitches, so you’ve come out to face justice.” Shamus mocked. “Justice for his wicked metal and the death of Thalm!” He raged, but then he turned and winked to his mob.  “Did they not have enough time to put clothes on?” He jeered and the crowd laughed with him.  

I get they were annoyed, but burning our house down while we slept inside? I was missing something or more accurately the someone truly behind this. What proof did they have that we were behind Thalm death (I mean Umbra was). Also, who calls a younger family member by that name - bitch? First, the assassin and now this - someone wanted me dead. 

I sighed at their antics, but then I coughed again from the smoke, “I take it peace is not an option.”

Shamus, red in the face, pointed his hammer at me, “You have ruined our futures with your magic, Unseelie!” 

“He saved all your lives yesterday.” Iris shouted back.

“Galen did.” The crowd argued. A woman from the crowd pointed at me and shouted, “We have no work while he still breathes.” 

Another shouted, “Thalm’s gone. We know you did it. Who else could it be?”

The situation and the crowd’s anger seem to be only growing worse. 

I tried to soften the axe’s at Byrette’s and Tulsia’s throats, but felt nothing, “You made stone axes?” 

He stole the axe, pushing his subordinate out of the way and pulled at Tulisa’s hair back savagely. She sobbed fat tears as fury fixed onto Shamus’ face.  

He glared back, “Yes.” His voice no louder than a hoarse whisper, one filled with resentment. He raised an eyebrow, “Not so special now are you?”

“We know your tricks!” Someone from the crowd shouted. 

I raised my staff, and above clouds merged, darkened and swirled as sparks started to form under my command. But no one noticed.

“Do you?”

I pulled my magic and made chain armour onto our bodies. I winced at the cold metal wrapping itself around my bare skin. However, the protection more than made up for the discomfort. 

“Stop that!” screamed Shamus. “Take it off!”

“Or?” Morgana said calmly.

He pressed the blade edge against Tulsia’s throat and a drop of blood trickled from the shallow wound. “I slit their throats!”

“And then you all die.” She warned.

We were at a standoff in a battle of fear and intimidation.

Neither of which I coped well with, I had said my bluffs as far as my new found confidence could push but I really wanted Tulisa to live. I also didn’t want Byrette’s death on my conscience.

I was still happy to skip town. The cause was doomed sooner or later. Something big and terrible enough would come along and squash this place. I felt the malice and powers beyond the walls that sought its end. 

I looked at Morgana and shook my head. I don’t think she noticed. 

“I would prefer it if my servants lived. But I will not be terrorised into submission. I am Morgana of the clan Pendragon." She said as cold as ice, then she smiled cruelly and taunted them, "A wicked witch can always get more servants.” 

The crowd looked to one another with wide eyed fearful glances. They muttered quiet as mice and Shamus scowled at them. 

Morgana raised her arm up to the sky. I guessed what she wanted. I flicked my finger and flew her sword directly into her hand. In a swift motion she planted the sword in the dirt in front of her, and she clasped the hilt with two hands. Iris breathed out flames and bathed Morgana in cool flames until she was wreathed in flames. 

“This is my proposal to you. Let them go and leave Ferisdarm in exile. Do anything else and I swear on my Father's name you will face the consequence.” Morgana commanded. "I promise blood and tears."