Timeless Decisions

Unsure

Morgian was lying in bed, lost in thought, when an unsettling shiver shot through his body. It was as though an icy hand had gripped his spine, sending a chill deep into his bones. His eyes snapped open, and he sat up abruptly, scanning the dimly lit room. Nothing seemed out of place, but the sense of unease lingered, gnawing at him.

This wasn't just an ordinary shiver—this felt like a warning.

Shaking off the feeling, Morgian swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up. He needed to talk to someone, someone who might understand what was happening. Zevon, the son of Yzma and Morgian's closest friend, was the first person who came to mind. If anyone could shed light on this strange occurrence, it would be Zevon. Though arrogant and secretive, Zevon had a sharp mind and a knack for uncovering hidden truths—sometimes in ways that made Morgian uneasy.

Morgian quickly dressed and made his way through the castle's shadowy corridors. The flickering torches cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the feeling of dread that was slowly creeping up on him. By the time he reached Zevon's dorm, he was more than a little on edge.

He knocked sharply on the door before pushing it open. The familiar scent of strange chemicals and magical concoctions filled the air as he stepped inside. Zevon's room was a cluttered mess of beakers, vials, and bubbling cauldrons. The air hummed with the low buzz of enchantments in progress, and Zevon himself was hunched over a workbench, meticulously measuring out ingredients for one of his experiments.

"Hey, dude," Morgian greeted, closing the door behind him.

Zevon glanced up, his eyes narrowing as he took in Morgian's tense expression. "What's crawled up your cape and died?" he asked, his tone dripping with his usual mix of arrogance and amusement. He set down the vial he was holding and leaned back, crossing his arms. "You look like you've seen a ghost—or maybe just your reflection."

Morgian ignored the jab and got straight to the point. "Did you feel that? This sudden, bone-chilling cold that came out of nowhere?"

Zevon arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Nope. Didn't feel a thing. Maybe you're just being a little too... what's the word... paranoidiotic?" He smirked, clearly pleased with his invented word.

Morgian shook his head, trying to convey the seriousness of what he'd felt. "This wasn't just in my head, Zevon. It was like something dark passed through me. It felt... wrong."

Zevon rolled his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Maybe you're just hallucinating because of Red. Or maybe it's just your guilty conscience finally catching up to you." He chuckled, then leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. "But if you're really that spooked, maybe you should... introducturate yourself to a nice, long nap. Or, I don't know, ask your mom. She's usually the one pulling strings around here."

Morgian bristled at the mention of his mother, Blanc. Everyone in Auradon knew her as the mother of Queen Elina, a respected figure in the kingdom. No one suspected that behind her calm, regal demeanor, Blanc harbored a deep-seated desire for revenge. No one except Morgian, who had seen the flicker of madness in her eyes more than once.

But he couldn't reveal that to Zevon. Instead, Morgian forced a casual shrug. "Maybe you're right. It's probably nothing."

Zevon snorted, clearly still skeptical. "Of course, I'm right. But if you start seeing shadows that aren't there, let me know. I've got a potion for that." He flashed a wicked grin and turned back to his work, dismissing Morgian's concerns with a wave of his hand.

Morgian lingered for a moment, his mind racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was brewing, something connected to the shiver he had felt. But with Zevon's dismissive attitude and his mother's hidden agenda, he was on his own in figuring it out.