~||Chapter 9||~
Violet's POV
"Morgan. Run."
The calm in my voice scared me, for it wasn't mine but that of a warriors. My body once again began this weird auto-pilot, the feeling of not being myself once again overtaking my mind as I drew my blade. Flames cascaded, but a tremble flew through my body as I felt not only my body but the presence of Clarent within me, the tips of my hair blazing fury red.
It was obvious she heard, she was off her speed increased with her control of the air, she off to grab my sad little partner. Until then, I would hold off these hags, eyes closed I launched forward off instinct, blade raised slicing through venomous attacks like cake. Yet the main sister stood to the back, analyzing my movements as though she knew she was safe, my lack of vision didn't help but my body allowed Clarent to guide each strike as he guided my hand.
"Inssssolent child. Calm yoursssself." The witches were obviously trying to cease my movements, but as you can possibly understand telling a girl to calm down never works. My eyes opened, but something had changed, they possessed a heart within their center and it blazed beyond measures searing the eyes of one Gorgon shut.
"I am Clarent. I am the Protector of this world, and I will burn all those who seek to misplace that balance you hunt us down witch. Why should we calm down?" My voice was altered it was a combination of me and Clarent, the stereo sound of our voices like magma.
"We bring a messssssage. That issss all Clarent. You know that Aether'ssss handler isssss dead, well it appearsssss ssssomeone has become the new handler by force. We have come to warn you, becausssse even our massster needs your help to calm the realmssss of magic." The eldest of the three sisters kneeled in submission, the feeling of Clarent's understanding met my own, they were no longer hunting us. They were scared and needed the thing they hated...The blades needed to return fast.
It seemed like forever, but something dragged us from our revelation, the yell of Alec and the gust of wind that followed as they came prepared for a fight. With our combined voices we turned to the two warriors, dread laced in our voices.
"STOP."
Such a simple word halted their steps, the view finally forcing them to notice the kneeling the Gorgons even their hair in a submissive state. The villains had somehow become the friends.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend...
"Excalibur... Merlin wishes to apologize for his hunting of your family.... But your exisssstence is poisonousssss to the world as you well know. You're the keyssss to unlocking ssssomething long forgotten, Arthur knew at the time magic had to be contained. Where did that knowledge get him? He lived a long life, if you remain any longer you damage hisssss name and risssk unraveling hissss work." The kneeling Gorgon's ignored the handler and spoke directly to the blade, it was obvious from the chill in the air he heard their words and decided to listen.
"Gorgon. Take this message to Merlin, he need not worry but if he wishes to remain alive he needs to give up this chase for our lives. We may be trapped within these blades but we are still pillars to the natural world." The sound of a feminine voice echoed, wind began to lash about as the once glimmering bird of Durendal turned into the beauty of a long haired woman who resembled Morgan.
Fear etched their faces, for they knew who this was it was the true form of the blade and another link to an ancient greek figure. The Goddess of War and Wisdom, Athena stood before them in her true form though ungodly for the blade was her vessel and she held no true power aside from the element of wind and destruction.
The story may go that Aphrodite cursed Medusa, but in reality it was a depiction of Durendal's immense hatred for the Gorgon race and her attempt to kill off their pathetic serpent queens.
A sigh escaped her as she reverted to a less threatening form, her once dominating presence replaced by the beauty of her silver and gold feathers. "Scamper off you venomous children. Before I consume you like I did far more of your insolent race."
Clarent merely chuckled in my head, he loved when she got this deadly it made him proud. Flames died, and my hair thankfully undamaged as my curls naturally fell back into place like a wave.
"It's time to find the fourth sword... We can't afford to be anymore separated then we already are... Morgon, let's get to work." I was done playing, I have never been a coward and I damn well don't take shit anymore. Call it what you want.
But the bitch of the west is flaming mad.
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Ancients Revealed
FantasyExcalibur... Clarent... Durendal... Joyeuse.... Aether.. The swords of old have returned, each searing for new wielders to bestow their power. Magic is leaking back into the world, awakening those capable of magic evil and good alike. An...