Morgaine Le Fay has been around for centuries. But there are some things she won’t resort to. Take the following scene for instance. Keep in mind this scene is in rough form so it is susceptible to change by the final draft. Tell me what you think.
Her Gods were often blood thirsty and vengeful but they never resorted to this. In the past her people had often practiced magic, but the blood on the altar before her had nothing to do with the beliefs that her people had once held. The blood of ravens would never be used in a sacrifice. Morgaine’s cinnamon eyes raged in anger. Someone had tainted this room and defiled a creature that they all held sacred.
Anger coursed through her veins at this vile act. Morgaine knew of only one person that would commit this depraved act. Loki. And she had agreed to help his wife in order to save her people. Bitter with the choices she was left with, Morgaine’s scowl turned as dark as the feather on the altar.
By any standards this was unacceptable. Morgaine knew the Gods would never forgive her actions. She did hope that they would one day understand. Pushing aside anger and sadness Morgaine tried to concentrate but the malevolence in the air made it an impossible feat.
Sighing in defeat Morgaine approached the altar. Before she could get within two feet of the altar a malicious force sent her flying towards the depression in in the cavern. Morgaine landed head first on the icy floor. As she tried to sit up Morgaine saw stars in her vision and felt blood dripping into her long hair.
Carefully stretching her hands out Morgaine brushed the bone handle that was sticking out of the floor. Morgaine could feel the magic pooling into the gold that was inlaid in the handle. Instinctively Morgaine felt her magic connect with what was in the sword.
Unable to stop herself Morgaine grasped the sword and pulled for all she was worth. Excalibur pulled as smoothly out of the ice as ever it had from its sheath. As she pulled the sword from its icy bed Morgaine felt the momentum of the sword pull her to her feet.
Looking at the sword above her head Morgaine saw that it was glowing a fiery red. Feeling no heat from the bone handle of the sword Morgaine held the sword tighter. Looking at the altar Morgaine saw a malevolent black energy surrounding this blessed cave.
Whatever had dared to attach itself to this cave didn’t know the forces it was dealing with. With horror etched on her face Morgaine slowly advanced on the stone altar. Forcing her mind to closely pay attention to the sinister energy Morgaine began to see bands of silver and green wrap around the black glow of the altar.
The cold silence in the room was broken by a brittle cackle that caused shivers to run down Morgaine’s spine. Morgaine’s cold skin went paper white as a cruel voice sneered, “How quaint. You choose to champion those that would forsake you.”
Seeing no living person in the room with her Morgaine boldly proclaimed, “Lord Loki, you have tainted a place sacred to my people.”
“Well played, child. Honestly though if this place were sacred to your gods, they would have detected me sooner,” Loki sneered at her.
“My Gods are often busy,” Morgaine replied confidently.
“Really? Doing what? Watching over you and that useless drunk? Surely they have more important things to do,” Loki taunted cruelly.
Morgaine’s nose flared and her cinnamon eyes raged at the insult. How dare this foreign God insult her culture? What gave him the right to degrade her era’s long enemy? “At least my Gods will step into the light,” Morgaine snapped.
Loki nodded his dark head before taunting, “I don’t see then here now.” This whole time a small sneer never left his lips.
Morgaine pulled herself erect before assuring Loki, “They never leave.”
For the first time in this conversation anger colored Loki’s pale face. “Your Gods are antiquated, you childish barbarian,” Loki yelled in anger.
At this statement the raven that never left Morgaine’s shoulder cawed angrily, ushering a freezing wind into the ice cavern.
Morgaine had felt such an inclement wind on only one occasion. With the memories of the Night of Banishment solidly in the forefront of her mind Morgaine closed her eyes and calmed her temper. Taking a deep breath Morgaine calmly asked, “While it is true that my people were around well before yours, we are still relevant. Can you say the same?”
Loki’s once pale face was now an angry red. His black eyes glowed like dark brimstone. Baring his teeth in a parody of a smile Loki sniped, “Whelp, even you have felt my brand of chaos. Perhaps you should rest.” As he finish Loki sent a pulse of dark energy at Morgaine that sent her flying back into the carved walls of the cavern.
Morgaine’s head hit the ice hard enough for a loud crunch to be heard around the room. Loki stared at the unmoving form of Morgaine with a sadistic smirk on his face. With loathing dripping off of his tongue Loki asked, “Still here, are they? Than why are you on the ground, at my mercy?”
With blood running down the back of her head Morgaine struggled into a sitting position. As Morgaine was trying to clear her mind she heard Loki hiss as he sent another wave of energy away from her. Carefully Morgaine had raised her head to see what the bitter God had done.
When her cinnamon eyes landed on the slowly animated corpse of Merlin, Morgaine’s pallor went from paper white to ash grey. Morgaine could never have imagined this atrocity. As her vision grayed, Morgaine shouted in horror, “You call my people barbaric and you’re the resorting to blood rituals and necromancy?! My Gods may be imperious but they would never stoop to such a level!” The revulsion in Morgaine’s eyes matched her tone perfectly.
Blood rituals never turned out well. The Gods had banished the use of them because of the sheer carnage that was wreaked on the earth and the people. They had even gone so far as to damn any who practiced such an art to the eternal nights of Annwn. The despairs of the netherworld was a place no mortal ever wanted to end up. The tortures that could be thought up their by the various Gods were infinite.
Morgaine tried to think of what she could do. When the Gods had banned blood rituals and necromancy they had also hidden the ways to fight off such demons.
No matter how fast Morgaine’s mind rushed Loki seemed to be faster. The blood matting the back of her head didn’t help matters either. Drawing herself to stand erect Morgaine faced the glowing eyes of the corpse.
Morgaine was unable to hide her revulsion as this specter of the past seemed to give her a parody of a smile. As shivers race down her spine Morgaine obnoxiously bellowed, “Rather than fight a mortal witch you would resort to the blackest of arts? How much cowardice will you stoop to?”
With a disdainful sneer firmly in place, Loki scornfully returned, “One mortal witch is not worth blowing the planet up over.”
Morgaine carefully watched the animated form of Merlin as Loki spoke. Lifetimes of practice had made Morgaine an expert when it came to watching people. Morgaine silently thanked the gods for this gift, because she noticed that when the God spoke, his animated minion seemed to falter in its step.
This one slip lit a fire of hope in Morgaine’s soul. If distraction was what it took to defeat this age old god and his detestable ways, than that is what Morgaine would do. Morgaine had always been able to think on her feet and it was time that this crazed God realized that.
Before Morgaine could open her mouth once more the sword in her hand began to vibrate.
Redfloras 