Born of Flames

Chapter 19 ~ Anger in the Moment

    Noxbane clanged off of the sword held by the wooden training dummy with a reverberating jar that rattled up Morana's arms. She stumbled backwards with a hiss, dropping the blade. "Shit!"

    The painful tingles persisted as Morana shook her arms and glared at the dummy. Not that it was the inanimate object's fault that she was in a bad mood, but it certainly wasn't helping. It had been raining for three days now, and she and Tarion had been forced to sleep inside again.

    They were going to remain out on the balcony at first, and simply shield themselves from the rain, but when the wind picked up and the lightning became even more frequent, they decided it wasn't worth the risk. Instead, they were back to subjecting themselves to their ever present nightmares.

    In addition to the stress from their sleepless nights, they hadn't made any progress in their attempts to uncover more of Astaroth's plans. No matter where they looked, there was nothing to be found.

    Morana was beginning to wonder if they'd made a mistake in trusting Gaelen to remain in the palace. Perhaps the male still harbored some loyalty to Astaroth, or at least a desire to preserve himself, and had destroyed any remaining evidence and plans he knew of to keep them from finding them.

    She was growing worried about Arlon and Neeri as well. They should've been close to the city by now if not already here. Morana had been sending scouts out to look for them regularly, but there was no sign of them. Suppose something had happened to them on the road? Were they merely sheltering from the storm, or would she never see them again?

    She would've taken Noxbane and looked for them herself if she had any idea of where they could be by this point. If they'd been delayed, perhaps they were still in the foothills near Durga's How, but she couldn't be sure, and Tarion didn't want her to risk herself in the storm by searching for them now. If they weren't spotted by the end of the week though, Morana would go, and no one would stop her.

    Ignoring the remaining tingles in her arms, she lifted Noxbane and launched into another set of attacks, funneling her anxieties into energy. Her blows connected properly this time, leaving only the satisfying ache of a well landed strike behind. Morana lost herself to the rhythm, swinging again and again, implementing every move Tarion, Lonan, and her Uncle Koen had taught her until they blended seamlessly.

    Her attack only faltered when she swung Noxbane toward the dummy's center. The onyx blade wedged into the wood, cleaving through it almost completely, before coming to a jarring halt. Morana gulped down heavy breaths and stared at the blade. Hadeon's sword. She pried it loose with a grunt of disgust.

    "What is the point of any of this if we can't find anything to help us?" She spat, unable to keep the thoughts inside any longer.

    What was the point of Oriana coming to her in a dream if she and the other gods would never do so again? What was the point of it if there was no way for Morana to reach them herself? Why lead her in circles with cryptic nightmares and useless warnings?

    If any of the gods had answers for her, it would be Hadeon. He had created Astaroth in the first place, but there was no way to contact him. Not even as the Phoenix, the mortal vessel that bore his power, descended from his god-bloodline.

    She rubbed her sternum ruefully, as if it could erase the tattoo hidden beneath her tunic. Morana glanced up as someone cleared their throat. Tarion hovered in the doorway, watching her with a raised eyebrow.

    "What did the dummy do to get on your bad side?" He asked, making his way over to her.

    "Nothing," Morana sighed. She sheathed Noxbane and folded her arms together, staring out the window closest to her. "Was there any news?"