[Morgan - Affinity Training] To Be the Best
Sept 22, 2021 9:58:34 GMT -8
Post by fluffymcsnuggles on Sept 22, 2021 9:58:34 GMT -8
Morgan needed to get better and fast if she had any hopes of getting into Vyridel Academy. She didn’t realize just how little she knew until she went out to try and learn. She realized she knew nothing at all. Not even the basics of a functioning society. Morgan wasn’t sure if she should blame herself for being so stupid or if she should blame her sisters for never taking the time to teach her.
What were they even really teaching her anyways?
Sure, they taught her magic, but what good was her skill now? Even a kid who hardly touches magic at all is better at it than her. It makes her feel jealous and frankly, inadequate. Eighteen years… Eighteen fucking years inside that manor and not a single person her own age to speak to. Just her and her sisters and the rare occasion they brought someone home.
Hell, she wasn’t even really allowed to attend the get-togethers they threw at the house. All of it was for her own safety they claimed. But what was she really in danger of? Herself? Others? How was she expected to learn to protect herself if she didn’t even really understand what dangers lay outside her own door?
She had a better idea now at least. It was a tough decision to make, running away. She knew it would upset her sisters, but she knew asking them to leave was a bad idea. They would want to go with her and honestly? She just wanted to do something on her own without her sisters hounding her down.
Gods she can’t even practice magic in peace when they’re around. A single backfiring spell always had them both losing their minds and suddenly she wasn’t allowed to practice magic for a week. Not without supervision. Not without a pair of eyes to constantly watch and correct her.
It felt so stifling. Did her sisters even realize they were smothering her? They were smothering all her potential. She could be something great if they just let her do...well- anything! She just wanted to taste some freedom and independence. Is that so wrong?
It can be when you steal from your siblings and run off without a single notice of your whereabouts. Morgan didn’t want them on her trail and telling them where she might have gone would only result in her being dragged back home kicking and screaming.
No. She had to do all this on her own.
The first few days weren’t easy. Morgan wasn’t exactly a camper, but she knew enough tricks to keep herself hidden in the woods. Wouldn’t want any beasts or bandits stumbling on her when she slept right? She didn’t mind not eating for a day or two if it meant getting a few miles ahead of her sisters.
Besides, the rough journey allowed her to actually use her magic. Granted, they weren’t usually pretty circumstances. A cutpurse on the road was eager to lift a few coins off of her. She left them sobbing on the road with the illusions that haunted them behind their eyes.
It felt good knowing she had that power over someone. It felt good knowing she can protect herself. It wasn’t like she wholly relied on magic for her defense. Joan taught her how to throw a good kick and punch.
“You aren’t always gonna have magic on you kiddo. If you run out of juice you don’t wanna be shit outta luck right? Now come on and get back up and try to block again.”
Morgan shakes her head to try and dissolve the sudden memory. Joan was a tough teacher but she taught her how to be tough. She taught Morgan how to take a hit and get back up again and again.
“Life’s gonna try and knock you on your ass kid. You need to get up and keep standing. That’s how you win. Keep standing till they rip the legs off your body and you can’t walk anymore.”
It was hard some days. Joan wasn’t merciful either. Gwen always chastised Joan for how rough she could be to Morgan. Despite the fact that they were sisters, Morgan could admit she didn’t really know all too much about Gwen.
She knew that Gwen was the oldest of the three. Hell, she was technically even older than Morgan’s mother, but she looked to be in her mid-thirties at the latest. Gwen liked simple and beautiful things. She taught Morgan how to garden and care for plants, taught her how to sew, cook, and bake. Gwen was the one to give hugs after bad nightmares and make hot cocoa on winter days. Beyond that though? Morgan didn’t know much about her oldest sister. The woman kept quiet about her past and always looked uncomfortable when people brought it up.
A shame she was always so busy with her work. Gwen had put her talents for jewelry craft and enchantment into a business that soon grew far beyond her expectations. She always had to leave for some meeting or trade deal or presentation or something else. Gwen always lamented and complained about having to leave the manor. She always said how she would rather stay home and take care of Morgan. Unfortunately, she was the only one with a real job. At least she had come back with cool gifts to try and make up for her absence.
Morgan feels a smile tugging at her lips recalling all the lovely gifts she had received. The moment she noticed she was smiling she forced herself back into a frown. Sure, she misses them, as much as she hates it. But she likes to think she is far better off without either of them.
She can’t help but think about her first gift. The gift she holds in her hands right now. A simple journal with a cracked spine and worn pages with slowly fading ink. She opens it up and looks inside, letting her fingers trace over the name written out in elegant graceful cursive.
“Property of Martha Hallewell.”
This was her most treasured possession. The only thing that connected her to her mother. The woman whose life she stole in order to have her own. Perhaps stealing was a bit dramatic, but Morgan can’t help but feel like a thief when her mother died just to bring her into this world. She would still be alive if it weren’t for her after all.
Her grimoire is the only thing left of her life and her memory. All of her notes, all of her wisdom, all of her knowledge was written right here for Morgan to consume. She’s read the book front to back so many times she’s lost count. Every time she learns something new and feels just a bit closer to the mother she never knew.
She wished she got to know her. The stories Gwen and Joan had always kept her glued to her chair. She remembers all the nights they told her about Martha’s adventures before she fell asleep. She would always beg them, again and again, to tell her what her mother was like.
“Well, your mother was brave and kind and helped plenty of people. She could take out bands of roughens and rogues like it was nobody’s business. She was a hero and she was stubborn and determined. She always liked to prove people wrong when they said she couldn’t do something. She is- was a great woman. I know you’ll be great too Morgan. You’re already great,” and then she would get a kiss on the head goodnight from Gwen and left to dream about the mysterious mother and who she might have been.
Morgan finds tears welling up in her eyes that she shoves away. She won’t cry over something so stupid. Besides, her tears could ruin the pages and ink of the grimoire anyways. This wasn’t the only book she could study from, but it was the most valuable to her. No doubt other people would also love to get their hands on a book like this for all the spells and magical knowledge it contains.
It just sucks that she can’t even seem to cast half these spells yet. She’s too weak and pathetic. But that isn’t gonna stop her for long. Gods, maybe she should have studied the War element rather than trying to follow her mother’s footsteps into Chaos. She just hates knowing now how awful she is at magic.
She knew she wasn’t as good as her sisters, but they had years of work and knowledge ahead of her. It did make her feel bad, but she never felt this pathetic before. She was a sorry excuse for a witch and magical practitioner. Especially with how long she’s been training.
She wonders if her mother would be proud of her and how far she’d come. She’d probably be disappointed with how bad Morgan is at magic. She’d probably wonder how her child could be so weak. Some sorry excuse for a witch’s kid. You would think being the child of two magic users would grant you a boon in your abilities. That didn’t seem to be the case for Morgan.
Not like she knew much about her father or his abilities anyways. Every time she ever brought up her dad this dark look passed over her sisters' faces. They would only state that they never liked him all that much and that he had left before she was born. Knowing her and her mother had been abandoned stung a little even to this day. She knew he was still out there and a part of her was dying to meet him, to know what he looked like, what he did, what he was capable of. She didn’t even have to talk to him, she just- she wanted to know who he was. She wanted to have some connection with at least one of her parents…
Too bad her sisters had denied her that. They didn’t care to elaborate on why they didn’t like her father. Their only reason was that they didn’t like how he treated Martha. They never said how he treated her though, so once again, Morgan was left in the dark.
Funny how often that keeps happening. People keep stuff from her and it only makes her angry. She just wants to know. What’s so wrong about knowing? What’s so dangerous about exploring the world?
Of course, it’s dangerous, but keeping her trapped inside wasn’t going to keep her safe. She had to learn and grow, but she was wilting away at the manor. Morgan only wished she stole some books too so that she could study more on the road.
She sighs and rubs her eyes, realizing she’s been staring at the same page for ten minutes. She needs to focus. She needs to get better. She needs to be the best.
She continues to flip through the pages of her mother’s grimoire for any more revelations that she might have missed. Not much stood out, it was the same unchanging words and ideas she’s seen thousand times over.
Maybe it was time she studied something new. Or at least, looked somewhere else. The familiar was the one thing holding her back. She had to throw herself to the winds of change. She had to throw herself into Chaos and remain whole as it attempts to tear her apart.
She starts off with small spells. The best person to practice on is yourself. Besides, if she builds resilience to these spells, they won’t affect her anymore. At least that’s the idea. Even if it hurts, even if it drives her mad for hours on end, she will get stronger.
The road is a better place to practice. Part of her had debated taking some bounties to be able to use her magic on others. Still, there was that nagging in the back of her head telling her how weak she was. Telling her she wasn’t good enough to even bother trying.
At least with the academy, she might be able to grow there. There are more resources, more books, faculty that would be willing to teach her, other students she could learn from
Right...other students. Morgan closed the book and sighed. That’s also another problem. It didn’t take long for Morgan to learn she’s- she’s not pleasant to be around. She’s left people confused and burned every hand that’s reached out to help.
She doesn’t want help. She doesn’t want pity. She wants to be the best. People are just gonna hold her back right? They’ll just tell her what she can’t do. They’ll worry over nothing and keep her from doing everything.
Still, she doesn’t want to be alone. Everyone wants friends and Morgan is no exception. She just doesn’t know how any of it works. Sure, talking to people and seeing if they have common interests is a start. But she doesn’t really have hobbies beyond magic. Maybe interior decorating but that feels like such a stupid hobby. Is it even a hobby really? She doubts it.
The competition she’s entering requires teamwork. She’s willing to work with others, so long as they don’t get in her fucking way. She doubts they would though. If anything, the students are more likely to participate than outsiders anyways. Gods, she’ll probably be the one to slow people down.
Well, she can’t have that. She simply can’t. Morgan wasn’t going to make herself deadweight anytime soon. She’d carry her weight. She’d carry the whole team if she could. She’s going to get that first-place prize if it’s the last thing she does. She will not fail. She’ll keep getting up and going if it means she can get in.
She needs this. She has to do this. She has to be better. She has to become the best. She has to become unstoppable. So, she will be.
She’ll rip her own mind apart if it means she’ll be stronger once she’s put back together.
Word count: 2355
