He dismissed the strange sight of his friends' reflections and took the crystal monocle Sunny had given him out of his pocket, staring at it with an intrigued gaze.
If his teacher had been able to use his powers, he could have turned it into a memory. His teacher already had a stash of soul shards he kept for some reason; he didn't know why, as they were useless in this place aside from selling them for a lot of money.
His phone suddenly vibrated; he took it out of his pocket and smiled at the message.
"Get here tomorrow at 6am sharp! Don't be late or drunk! It feels like it's been ages since I last saw you!"
Mordret swiftly replied.
"Yes, teacher, and we saw each other three days ago. I was thinking about how you could make something into a memory if you could use your powers here. Are you stalking me?"
A few seconds passed before a reply came.
"Yes,"
"That's a joke, right?"
He received no response, so he sent another text.
"Teacher?"
Smiling, he put the phone back in his pocket and turned his head towards his sister, who was staring out the window with a distant expression, before she suddenly spoke.
"You never told me what was on your mind."
Mordret shook his head.
"No, I didn't, and you never told me that story,"
"Because you were lost in thought and I didn't want to interrupt you,"
Mordret smiled.
"I apologized, did I not?"
"You did, and I told you not to apologize for it."
"What story did you want to tell me?"
"It's about a woman, surrounded by many yet loved by none,"
Mordret frowned.
"I would rather be surrounded by nobody than be with people who didn't love me,"
Morgan nodded.
"As would I,"
"Please, go on, tell me the story."
"There was a lonely woman, surrounded by many and loved by none, so she stayed in a place of dreams, and avoided all contact from the outside world, that was, until she came across a little boy who had been brought into her world. The woman who had always wanted a child of her own immediately wanted to keep him and treat him as a son. Yet she didn't, because the woman didn't want to scare the boy off with her true form, as she had never come across a child before and had no idea what would happen to the small boy."
"What did she do?"
"She soon realized the boy was lonely like the woman, and so she used her abilities of being able to look like anyone and disguised herself as many people to help the lonely boy without revealing who she truly was to him. She had to be careful, as she only had one body and didn't want the boy to catch on to his mysterious guardian. Over the years, she watched him grow into a man, and as she did, the woman came to cherish the boy as if he were her own flesh and blood. She did this because the woman and her wayward siblings were forbidden to have children of their own."
"Why did she let him stay?"
"He had nowhere else to go and no one to go to, so she allowed him to stay in the place of dreams to do whatever he wanted within reason."
As she continued to speak, he noticed that her eyes held an emotion Mordret couldn't place; was it guilt? Sadness?
"Anyway, the lonely boy met a man who was also in the place of dreams, but for a very different reason. The man decided to take in the boy, train and raise him as his own. The boy would come to think of the man as his second father, and the woman would be delighted that the boy met the man, as the thought of the little boy no longer having to be lonely, like her, brought her joy. But she also felt sad that the little boy no longer needed to rely on her, despite never knowing she was there in the first place."
"Then one day, after years of being in the place of dreams, the family friend who everyone considered an uncle suddenly went missing and never returned. The boy cried for days, wishing for the man to return, so not wanting to see him in such a state of despair, the woman disguised herself as the uncle. Then months passed, and the sister suddenly went missing and never returned, so the woman did the same thing and disguised herself as the sister as she refused to allow the boy to be consumed by loneliness, as she had been."
Mordret raised an eyebrow as the story began to sound like what happened to him. He met his teacher after a few days of being put here by his brother. Then the reflection of Uncle Jest disappeared, only to return a few weeks later.
Was she talking about Mordret?
'No, that's impossible. I'm being too self-absorbed.'
He was certain that many people had lost family members and found family among others. He knew she wasn't talking about him because there were too many contradictions and inconsistencies. The first contradiction was that she said the uncle never returned, whereas the reflection of his Uncle Jest, did return.
Then again, it was said that the woman disguised herself as the uncle. But how could she do that? Wouldn't the boy notice something was off, or was he too young and oblivious to notice? Well… Morgan said the woman could look like anyone, but didn't explain how. Was it her aspect? Her transformation?
The second contradiction concerned the boy's sister: Morgan said she never returned, whereas Morgan's reflection went missing shortly after returning. Then again, Morgan also said that the woman disguised herself as the sister, but there was a hole in that point. How could the woman disguise herself as two people if it was stated that she had only one body?
The third contradiction was that Morgan repeatedly called the place the boy was trapped in the 'place of dreams', whereas the place Mordret and his teacher were trapped in was called the kingdom of imagination, not dreams.
Dreams were experienced while sleeping and unpredictable, whereas imagination was something created and could be controlled, as when Mordret made the snow disappear. Then again, they were both created in one's head, as dreams were born of imagination, and imagination could inspire dreams.
The third contraction was the final point that made Mordret dismiss the idea that Morgan was talking about him. Besides, there were too many holes left open, too many things that were obviously left out. Either Morgan left out many of these points on purpose, or she truly was a terrible storyteller. Or maybe she was retelling her version of the story as she remembered it, and Mordret had to look for the other version to get the full picture. But who else would know it?
'Maybe mom knows?'
Regardless, despite the gaps in the story, he still very much enjoyed it. Though he especially enjoyed stories that started as more of a comedy with a side of slow-burn romance and lots of slices of life, and got progressively darker and deeper in lore while maintaining some of its humor as the story went on. He also enjoyed romance and noir novels, so much so that he considered making the kingdom of imagination a noir city set in the 1930s, where he was a detective chasing a killer, but he decided against it.
Mordret sat there waiting for a continuation of the tale, yet was disappointed when he realized that Morgan was no longer speaking.
"What happened then? What's the rest of the story?"
"That is the rest of the story."
"What? What kind of story is that? Why would you leave me on a cliffhanger?"
Morgan faintly smiled and stared out the window again.
"Because it's not finished yet."
Mordret couldn't help but purse his lips as he remembered that Morgan wasn't the best storyteller, as she always skipped over parts she deemed unnecessary to the plot.
"Well, I hope you can finish it one day,"
"So do I,"
Mordret was silent for a few seconds before asking.
"What was her name?"
"I don't remember much about the woman; it's been a very long time since I've told anyone this story."
That made the gears in Mordret's head turn.
Was she talking about the ever-present sibling who was always forgotten? The Daemon Oblivion? That might've explained why Morgan couldn't remember her name and why she referred to her as the 'woman,' instead of her given name. In fact, it would make a lot of sense if oblivion were a nickname, as no one would be capable of knowing her actual name, as they would constantly forget it. Hence the name oblivion.
Mordret suppressed a cough.
'I almost feel embarrassed that I just caught onto that. It's a good thing no one heard my thoughts,'
But he digressed. From what his teacher told him over the years, there were only two beings in existence that were capable of remembering anything about the forgotten sibling. It was the one who hid behind a myriad of lies, the spider whose web spanned throughout fate itself, the one hated by all yet seen by none, and it was the terrifying daemon of fate, Weaver.
But how could people hate someone they couldn't remember in the first place?
The second being who was capable of remembering oblivion was oblivion herself. Was that why Morgan had been acting so strangely? Because it was a daemon pretending to be her? Or was it the daemon of imagination, the one who held dominion over illusions and was the creator of reflections, who was pretending to be Morgan?
He should've been surprised and definitely frightened, but he couldn't feel fear anymore, so he was only intrigued. What he lacked was what his brother felt, and what his brother lacked is what Mordret felt.
Mordret shook his head at the theory he came up with; while it was solid, there was one glaring flaw with it.
All the daemons were dead, including Oblivion, even though she never participated in the Doom War because she died before it started.
He knew this because his teacher told him long ago that her grave was in the tomb of Ariel, as he had traveled there to retrieve a couple of friends who had fallen to corruption and take them elsewhere to 'cleanse them,' as his teacher put it.
So if it wasn't her or any of the daemons, then who was it? Morgan said the woman and her siblings were forbidden to have children, much as the daemons were forbidden to have offspring by the gods. But, it didn't only have to apply to the daemons, it could've applied to some mortals as well, due to their families, or was he overthinking this entire story?
Mordret halted his thoughts, and he froze in his seat.
Had being in the imaginary place finally gotten to him after all these years? What in the world was he thinking? The reflection of his sister was one of the daemons in disguise?
He must've finally snapped.
Well…. He really wasn't all there to begin with, as he wasn't a complete person and didn't have all his emotions. And yet despite his doubts, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was close to unveiling something, but he didn't know what.
He was torn from his deep thoughts when Jest spoke up.
"Your storytelling is awful, by the way. That story was such a damn mess, it made Hel's room look clean! Why tell a story that's not even finished?!"
Morgan frowned at the older man and stared at Mordret.
"Is that true?"
Mordret forced a pleasant smile.
"It… could use some work, but don't feel bad, everyone starts somewhere."
Morgan pouted.
"I thought I did well,"
"And you did! Uncle Jest is just being mean, he doesn't mean it,"
Morgan seemed to accept this and smiled.
"Grandpa Jest, can you tell us a joke to cheer me up?"
The man shook his head.
"No, and quit calling me grandpa, I'm not that old yet."
Morgan chortled.
"You're practically a living fossil, though."
"I'll make sure we all crash and die."
Morgan rolled her eyes with a smile.
"Calm down, old man, learn to take a joke,"
Jest looked at her through the rearview mirror and scowled.
"You know I hate jokes,"
Mordret listened to them bicker for a few minutes, staring at the highway as they drove home, before speaking up.
"Morgan?"
"Yes?"
Mordret was silent for a while as he gathered his thoughts.
"Do you think people can change? Find redemption?"
Morgan immediately nodded.
"Yes, I do. Anyone can change if they're willing to put in the effort. The same goes for redemption, if they're willing to forgive themselves first."
"What if they've done things that were unforgivable, unspeakable? Or what if someone treated people like weapons and pushed everyone away?"
Morgan shrugged.
"Then they will find a way to punish themselves or think that they are incapable of change or redemption; in their eyes, it's easier to continue down that path than to take that first step."
"Because the first step is always the hardest, right?"
Morgan slowly nodded.
"Yes, but that's not what I think,"
That piqued his interest.
"What do you think then?"
Leaning her head against the window, she softly sighed.
"I think that wanting change is the first step; the hardest step is the journey itself."
Mordret considered her words and nodded before asking something else.
"What if someone was incapable of feeling remorse for their actions? Could that person be capable of change then?"
Morgan turned her head towards him, her eyes curious as she asked softly.
"Are you asking about someone in particular?"
Mordret hesitated before nodding.
"Yeah,"
"Is it okay if I ask who?"
"Someone who is lost, angry, and misguided, do you think I could help them change?"
"No, the person you're talking about has to be willing to change; you can't force it. Forcing it is the worst option. But you can walk the path with them, if they allow you to. What are you trying to help them accomplish?"
"I….I don't know yet,"
Morgan stared at him for a long time, and Mordret wondered if he had been too obvious about who he was referring to until she eventually nodded with a soft smile.
"Yes, you do, you only refuse to acknowledge it. But, it's okay, when the time comes, you'll be able to do what's necessary, I know you will."
Morgan's voice turned softer.
"I want you to know that you're not a murderer, Mordret, not if you're killing him for something that will benefit you both in the long run."
Mordret paused.
Why did it sound like she knew that he was talking about his brother? About his flaw? She said she heard his entire conversation with his teacher, but why wasn't she confronting him about it?
Mordret inwardly shook his head.
'I'm getting distracted,'
She was right; he was refusing to acknowledge it because he didn't want to. He didn't want to kill his brother, not because he lacked hatred or viciousness; he didn't need either of those to kill his brother. No one did, tons of people killed in self-defense or to protect their family or home, and not out of hatred or because they enjoyed killing, but to prevent further harm to anyone else.
No, no, Mordret didn't want to kill his brother for a much more selfish reason; it was the same reason he didn't kill him back then when they were children.
He didn't want to be alone.
Yes, he had his teacher now, but who would he have if something happened to the man he admired? No one, he would have no one. That's why he didn't kill his brother, because he didn't want to be alone again.
'What a selfish wretch I am,'
As they continued driving home, he began to wonder how life would be if he were whole. Perhaps then he would be able to be the Prince of Valor, the rightful heir of Clan Valor, the eldest of Anvil, the king of swords.
Would he make friends? Be a big brother to Morgan and provide her guidance? Would his dad not stare at him with indifference and sometimes hate?
Mordret smiled wistfully, and he stared out the window.
'In another life, perhaps, as it certainly won't be this one.'
He quietly sighed and shifted in his seat.
'Brother, my brother, I wonder what you're doing now,'
Sorry this took so long, I honestly didn't like this chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed it. :)