Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2-1

 

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It wasn’t long before word got back to Morgan in his chambers about the reports of the town of Springfield being destroyed. “You have done well, Gartooth,” Morgan said as he tossed him a nice bag of gold coins.

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“Now leave me!”

“Yes, my Lord, but―”

“But what?” Morgan asked.

Gartooth looked at the bag of coins hungrily. “I expected more, considering the price I paid to get it for you.”

Morgan flashed with red-hot anger, towering over the room. “Do I see what I been looking for in front of me? No! Nothing but words from a worm of empty promises. Now take your coin and go unless―” Grasping his scrawny neck, “You prefer to die now!” The guards entered the room carrying the boy over their shoulders as fear struck them, seeing Gartooth hanging by his throat. Morgan let’s go tossing Gartooth into a corner. “You have been warned,” turning his back on him.

Gartooth picked up the small bag of coins, which was not even half what Morgan had promised him. Gartooth limped down the hall, forced to flee. Where the arrow struck him as he tightened the bag of coins with his other injured right hand, his dominant hand, with two missing fingers; both injuries were courtesy of the old woman. Now dead by his own two hands was the only compensation he had really gotten.

However, he never did find his staff, which she had stolen from him. No matter how hard or long it took. He would find it, as he would the boys and their parents, which Morgan so desperately wants. Then, there would be time for his revenge as he looked upon Morgan and the boy, his prize boy. “Yes, there will be time, my old master, when you too will bow before me.”

Morgan faces the boy. His eyes are open and clear as the guards lay him at Morgan’s feet. Morgan laughs because the boy before him is so weak that he can pose no threat.

Jeff tries to wake himself up and stand before this monster but quickly falls because he is so weak. Again, Morgan laughed at the boy’s amusement as he struggled. “Boy, I have won. Now your true path can begin.” Jeff slowly nodded, but inside, the Light was still burning bright. Morgan laughed, setting his Dark Prince beside him, bound in chains, as he places him at the table. “Feast, boy, for the hour is here as we rein together over the worlds once more.”

Jeff, a former victim of Morgan, is now eating hungrily at Morgan’s table. As he watches Morgan take control of various towns, he feels great sadness seeing the many worlds and realms he once knew falling under Morgan’s rule. Morgan is searching for the Five Keys of Destiny and items pertaining to them. That will make him a god. He hopes to use them to reshape the fabric of time according to his own image. Jeff, who is now nearly spoon-fed, can’t do much but regain his strength. However, he can’t help but think that the tables will turn soon, and Morgan will suffer just like those he has caused to suffer. “Yes, my dear friend, there will come a time when you too will suffer,” Jeff said silently unnoticed as he chews on the salted meat, trying not to spit it out because it tastes like a rubber sole off a boot.

Morgan walked up to the table where Jeff was sitting, said. “Thanks to your cellmate before he left. I’m getting closer to where they hid your brothers and family. In fact, so close the reports say I might have killed them.” This news shocked Jeff, and he almost choked on a piece of beef. Although Jeff’s friend EJ had warned him that Morgan was unreliable, he couldn’t shake the possibility that Morgan had succeeded in his mission. Jeff hoped that if it were true, he would feel something through the bond he shared with EJ.

Morgan just sat there watching Jeff eat, gloating over his prize as he went to his books and maps. Then, he orders them to stop bringing him food, taking it right out of his hands like a child so Jeff would know who is in control�"setting the sweetmeats over on a table across the room where he can see them. Yet Jeff could not get to them; even if he crawled or begged, Morgan would not give them to him until he got what he wanted. But Jeff was stronger inside than Morgan thought as he sat there looking at the food, craving it because his body needed it, and Morgan knew it.

Morgan paced before his eyes, bearing down on him like a cat on a helpless mouse. “So, boy, what did you and your buddy Jeff discuss in the dungeon below us?” he asked, his fingers drumming the table.

Jeff tried to sound surprised. “You mean that wasn’t a dream?” he replied.

Morgan's sharp eyes track the boy's every move, cautious and alert. An eerie silence fills the room, broken only by the faint sound of their hushed voices. The air is heavy with tension, a sense of unease hanging in the atmosphere, mixing with the metallic tang of fear. Jeff's gaze falls to the worn wooden table, his mind racing with a jumble of memories and thoughts. His palms grow clammy, the cool surface of the table offering a temporary respite from the anxiety that courses through his veins. Morgan's impatience grows, the sound of his heavy breaths filling the room as he leans forward, his hand snatching the boy's arm in a vice-like grip.

Jeff acts fast, knowing he must survive, and comes up with an answer: “We talked about how we’re going to bust out of this dungeon and find my brothers before you do.” Morgan lets go of the boy, watching him rub his arm where he grabbed him.

Morgan grinned, looking at the boy. “And how were you going to leave?” Sitting next to the boy, Morgan placed a plate of meat in front of him.

Jeff calmly took a piece of meat, trying not to roll his eyes due to how good it tasted, besides being as tough as the sole of a boot. Then there was the fact he hadn’t tasted food since he died, not over four years to the day, he says. “Through the back door of the mountain pass.” As if Morgan should have known that since he followed them when he first tried to escape. However, it seemed to surprise him. Maybe a little, watching and seeing Morgan’s face as his red glowing eyes lit up.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as he looked at the boy chewing on the meat. “So that’s how the spy got in and out, and Jeff knew about it,” Morgan yelled down the hall for his quartermaster. Prepare the Prince’s room and post a guard; he does not leave the room.” Not that the boy could leave; Morgan wasn’t too concerned about seeing the shape he was in. It was the possibility of the unknown trying to bust him out.

Three times they have tried, Morgan counts three. Jeff, Bowden, and Destiny. Jeff and Bowden had escaped his clutches as Morgan angrily tightened his fist, heading down the hall to the map room. Morgan stopped looking over the balcony, viewing his soldiers’ training grounds, black knights, and Darzzee. “Filthy beasts,” but at least they get the job done. Pay them enough gold coins. They make the best headhunters and do anything if the price is right.

Morgan entered the chamber, placing all the world maps on a table tied with a black ribbon. He has paid particular attention to these, because they are the worlds his old friend Derrick was looking after. “Derrick, oh, how he hated him ever since he turned his back on me, me when he could have stood by my side sharing the glory, the riches, the power. Not be part of something so mindless and useless too where the Brotherhood placed you. He would have been something much greater if he had joined my side, not those pathetic old fools.”

“My Lord Morgan … A Darzzee has arrived with news about the town of Springfield.” Morgan looked up from his chart, and Captain who was shaking with fear. “They are still alive and well,” he replied.

Morgan’s eyes blazed red. “I said kill them all. Not leave one thing standing, not so much as a blade of grass.” Morgan tosses the messenger over the railing, storms down where the Darzzee is, and the black knight waits. Morgan bust opens the doors, tearing them off the hinges. Picking up the Darzzee, shaking him as the knight pleads for his life. Morgan turns with white anger but is calm as his eyes burn with rage and said asking, “So, they are here.”

“Yes, my Lord. About forty miles east towards the mountain pass.” Morgan sets the Darzzee down harshly, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Captain, take two hundred men, knights, and the best hounds. We will finish the job once and for all …. and this time ….” Grabbing both the knight and Darzzee. “There better not be one standing alive. Now go!”

“Yes, my Lord.”