Chapter Text
Morgan startled as an arrow struck the sternum of the skeleton he was commanding. It staggered back at the force of the impact, and a second arrow sailed through its eye socket. That was too much interruption for it to handle. It fell apart as he took cover behind a tree and cast out with his mind. There was another body not too far away, near the edge of the treeline and only buried a little way under the surface. He poured his energy into it and called out to the unseen archer.
“Hold your fire,” he requested. “I am not an enemy.”
“Get out here where I can see you,” came the reply. The voice was light and lilting, feminine. In combination with her weapon of choice, that was promising. Maybe he was finally getting close to his destination. Morgan held his hands up, palms forward, and obediently stepped out of the cover of the trees.
“Please don’t shoot. I’m just-”
“Look out!” The archer fired again from her perch in a small watchtower Morgan hadn’t been able to see from the woods. Her arrow clattered in the ribcage of the skeleton he’d just raised. He let it fall. There was no good way for him to defend against a ranged weapon. If he could explain, maybe she would stop attacking.
“I want no quarrel with you. I’m only looking for-”
“Get out here already! Can’t you see there are dangerous monsters in the woods there, or are you blind?” Morgan cast a glance behind him, but saw nothing amiss. Oh, but she had been targeting the skeletons he had raised.
“It’s only skeletons,” he offered tentatively. He walked a little way toward the tower, to show he was cooperating.
“They’re plenty dangerous. Skeletons killed Diana just last week.”
Well, that was unfortunate. Although it was a promising sign for his own search - undead often rose in the wake of greater evils - it also meant that he would have to avoid using them for the time being. They were really just a kind of golem. It was more difficult and time-consuming to create a golem out of earth, much easier to take a familiar shape that already existed and simply fill it with energy instead. But people tended to react poorly to seeing the dead even at the best of times, and the distinction was likely to be lost on this audience.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Morgan said. Out of the various responses to news of a death, that was the most broadly accepted, in his experience.
“Well, it wasn’t your fault now, was it?” He cringed, trying to keep his reaction internal. Just his luck this woman wasn’t reacting well. “Was it?” she pushed, sounding suddenly suspicious.
“Of course not.”
“How do I know you aren’t some kind of a ghoul yourself? Those skeletons weren’t attacking you.”
“I was behind them,” Morgan pointed out. He sincerely hoped that this would not be the day he learned what it felt like to be shot with an arrow.
“Like some sort of ringleader. Maybe you’re a ghoul after all. You sure don’t look like a normal person. Why shouldn’t I put this arrow through you, huh?”
“Ghouls and other undead don’t talk,” Morgan responded flatly. He was well aware of how peculiar he looked. With his slight frame, unusually pale skin, and grey-white hair, this was not the first time he’d heard the comparison. He hoped she knew enough about the undead to believe his statement. The other thing they didn’t do was bleed, and he didn’t want to have to prove himself that way.
There was a moment’s pause as the archer considered the argument. “Fair enough.” She finally lowered her bow. “What did you say you were looking for?”
“The Sisterhood of the Sightless Eye. I hope to combat the evil that grows there.”
“Well, you found us.” She pointed. “Keep going for - actually, I’ll just show you. My shift is about done anyway.” She disappeared from sight and reappeared a few moments later by the base of the tower. “Come on, ghoul boy - let’s get going.”
“My name is-”
“Don’t care, ghoul boy.”
Morgan followed in silence. It wasn’t worth pushing the issue. He was just glad to have found them at all. Now he could finally begin his work in earnest.