Midnight End

6

Fortunately, I was more than just my wolf. I was a man capable of reason, logic, and loyalty. No matter the temptation of knowing my past or of Morgan’s siren-like call, I would not do something thoughtless on a whim. Was I temped? Hell, yes. Not just tempted by her soft curves and sharp wit—I was tempted by her suggestion. Getting my body back was a thrilling development but only half of who I’d been. My history was still lost. Finding the cauldron and getting my memories back would make me whole. Regardless of the appeal, I couldn’t free Morgan. I walked for hours in the woods. I thought about what I would do next, where I would go, and what my new life would entail. Every course of action I envisioned led me to the same place—my past, the familiar blackhole of nothingness that occupied the furthest recesses of my memory. No matter where I began or what new adventures I pictured, I always ended up searching for answers. My inability to see an alternative enraged me. I wanted to do what was right and not harm those I cared about, but I couldn’t seem to reconcile where that would leave me. Didn’t I have an obligation to do what was best for me as well? If I couldn’t move forward without knowing where I’d been, was it not necessary to unveil that part of my story? I was continually pulled in two directions, unable to make headway, one way or another. There was only one person who might be able to help me. Now that I had a voice and could explain my lack of memories, perhaps Merlin would have access to magic that would help. Before I did something irreversible, I owed it to him and to myself to see what other options might exist. OceanofPDF.com 3 After Merlin rescued me from the Red Caps, it took months for him to draw me out of a feral state and almost two years until I didn’t flinch around people. We spent a great amount of time together during those years. He gave me the opportunity to heal on the inside and out. Not only would I be eternally grateful to him for saving me, I appreciated that he never treated me like a dog—not even when it was warranted by my erratic behavior. Once I had reclaimed my sanity, Merlin placed an enchantment over me. I had no magic of my own as a wolf. To prevent me from being endangered again, the sorcerer gifted me with the ability to transport myself. Much the same as the Seelie can trace from place to place, the enchantment allowed me to take myself anywhere I could envision, so long as I had been there before. As an added bonus, it also allowed me to walk through wards. Merlin had given me the security of knowing I would not be imprisoned again—or at least not easily. I wasn’t sure the enchantment would still work after my transformation —testing it would be the only way to find out. Closing my eyes, I imagined the small cabin by the lake I had seen on so many occasions. The customary tingling sensation engulfed my chest as the magic stirred to life. When I opened my eyes, the first thing I did was peer down at my chest. It was something I had been unable to do as a wolf. I was stunned to see glowing, golden markings on my skin peeking out from beneath my shirt. I pulled down the collar to reveal an intricate swirling pattern of knotted lines extending down my left pectoral and onto my side. Even if I had been able to see that part of my chest as a wolf, the fur would have hidden the markings. While I couldn’t see the glowing designs, I had always wondered at the strange burn that accompanied the use of the spell. I watched as the magic faded until the only markings on my skin were the crisscrossing remnants of my scars. Looking around the rocky lakefront where I now stood, I spotted Merlin sitting on a wooden swing overlooking the water. His hair was almost as white as my fur had been, which made him easily identifiable. Adding to his unusual features, his eyes were exceptionally pale. I hadn’t been able to tell their color before, but now I could see they were the same pale blue as the sky near the horizon. Those ageless eyes might have seemed cold and unapproachable if not for the hint of creases in the corners, evidencing his penchant for finding amusement in life. For a man with such phenomenal power, he was surprisingly average in size and build. It was clear his pursuits were more academic than athletic. On the outside, he could easily have been mistaken for human. Like Morgan, his time on Earth made him more apt to wear designer suits rather than the flashy attire of the Seelie Court. At home on his island, he wore loose linen pants and a silk, short-sleeve button-down, rippling gently in the sea breeze. Not far from where he sat, standing motionless in waist-high water, was Viviene. Morgan believed her mother was being kept somewhere near her forested encampment, but that was incorrect. Merlin had secured a remote Faery island where he and his ailing lover resided. He had erected a spell around the perimeter to make the place invisible to passing ships and repellant to all those who intended to pass through its location. Only someone who knew it existed and sought it specifically as a destination could find it. As far as I knew, I was the only person outside of Merlin and Viviene to ever visit the island. One could walk the circumference of the island in a matter of an hour. It was just large enough to contain a fresh-water lake at the foot of a junglecovered hillside. The property was rather ideal in every way, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Merlin had fashioned the island himself. He had needed somewhere secluded where Viviene could recuperate. She was a Water Nymph, so the fresh-water lake had been essential. There were no threats or sources of stress, just perpetual beauty and comfort. From what I had seen, Merlin’s efforts had been fruitless. Viviene’s progress had been slow if any at all. I only knew the basics of her story and had not been able to ask questions, but her odd behaviors had been evidence enough she had never fully recovered from whatever she had suffered.