"Therefore I will not restrain my mouth; I will speak in the anguish of my spirit; I will complain in the bitterness of my soul." - Job 7:11
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Breathing in the musky air surrounding me, I pondered over the food cart in which I was waiting for. The line in which I stood was long, and this annoyed me greatly. All I wanted was the freshest loaf of bread that was to be given out by the baker. In anticipation, I tapped my right foot, hoping that the line would speed up.
It was moving as slow as a slug. Anger builds up, coursing through my veins. In an instant, I used my magic to force everyone aside. In frustration, I yelled, "Move aside, peasants, I need my God-forsaken bread!" As I charged my way to the front, everyone whispered in shock, embarrassed about my temperament. Once I arrived at the baker, he stared at me in fear. I glanced at him with malicious intent in my eyes as I forcefully grabbed the bread, which was in his hands, "Give me that!" After getting the bread, I sauntered past the people who were nagging at me and stared into each of their souls. Reaching the end of the line, I saw my younger brother, Henry, standing there with disapproval etched across his sorry face, "What?" Asking this question, I rolled my eyes and placed my free hand on my hip.
My brother just shook his head, "You know Morgan, you are very nasty to people. You shouldn't treat them that way." Again, I was receiving a lecture from my fifteen-year-old fairy brother, who did not understand the concept of power. He only knew of chivalry, constantly practicing his swordsmanship.
I crossed my arm over to the one with bread and held up the bread as a specimen of evidence, "At least I got the boring old bread, and you shouldn't reprimand me; I'm your older sister, for pete-sake." I then shuffled past my brother towards the castle, our home. My brother, slowly trailing behind, scoffed at my remark and mumbled to himself about how great he was. He did not know I was listening, but, I could hear everything he said. Which is just pitiful because I thought to myself how absurd he was being. No one can be that great, not even my brother. I laughed internally, which brought out a slight chuckle.
My brother ran up beside me, hearing my chuckle, and squinted at me, "What's to laugh at, sister? I am a fantastic swordsman. I mean, just look at me, huh? All the ladies seem to agree." He pointed at himself as if he was the most wonderful person on earth. I laughed out loud in response, petrified over what I had just witnessed.
I gestured toward my brother, "You know that all of those so-called 'ladies' only like you because you are a prince." I got down to my brother's level by pressing my hands firmly against my kneecaps. I looked straight into my brother's eyes and said, "You are also going to be king. Which to other people is very appealing, having royalty. No one will truly appreciate who you are, brother, plus mom, and dad will decide for you who your bride will be." I got up from my brother's level after that very degrading speech and waltzed away with a smirk on my face. I knew that I must have bruised his ego at some point during all of that because he remained speechless and as white as a ghost. All of his internal confidence has been, at the least, tampered with, which I am proud of.
All my brother had to say to himself was, "Arranged marriage isn't a thing..." He stood there pointing at me but then receded from his statement. The rest of the way home, he remained quiet, hoping to spare himself more mockery. Walking into the castle, we met with our mother and father, who were the king and queen. I loved being the princess. What was disappointing, I wasn't the first in line, my brother was. Which made me jealous, and I sought out that power for myself. They didn't know it, but I was planning on attacking them tonight.
My mother embraced Henry, "Oh, my darlings. How was your short trip to the market to get the bread?" My brother smiled at my mother lovingly. Mother was always nice to Henry, spoiling him with every chance she got. She never looked my way, even if I was the one who did everything that she asked.
I clenched the bread in my hand as I gestured it toward my mother with a disdained look on my face, "We got the bread, mother. Thanks for asking about the trip." When mother grasped onto the bread, I abruptly turned left to my bedroom. I had nothing else that I wanted to say to her. Every day felt as if I was invisible in this house. My mother and my father would only recognize my brother's achievements and often told him that he would make a great king one day. As I walked to my room, I gritted my teeth as tears threatened to spill from my eyes. My thoughts were clouded with only one thing, to get rid of my treacherous parents. I desired power and revenge, and I was going to get it. I had everything planned out, every step and every action I was going to take. My parents would not know what was coming to them. As the evening pressed on, I summoned my courage to commence my plan.
Grabbing a knife, I hurried into the throne room where I knew they would be perching. As I entered the room, they stared at me with wavering eyes, "Morgan, what are you doing?" Their voices shook as I slowly made my way toward them. Gripping the knife in my hand, I charged at my parents. When I collided with them, they put up a fight. They pushed back at my attacks and were defending themselves from me. Pushing my mother against a desk filled with expensive golden items, all of them crashed to the ground. This created a loud sound that echoed throughout the castle. My mother wept at my presence, moving closer to her, and she begged for mercy. As soon as I was about to commit the final blow, my brother came up behind me, grabbed my shoulders, and forced me to the ground. A grunt fell from my lips as I collided with the floor.
As I was lying on the ground, my brother helped my mother up off of the ground. With her propped up against him, he pointed his sword at me and questioned, "How could you attack our mother and father?" He swung his sword to his side in one fierce, swift motion. At this, I laughed sinisterly. Slowly, I propped myself off the ground and pierced into the soul of my brother.
Once I stood firmly on the ground, I protested, "Because I want power!" I then charged at my brother full force; using my magic, I transformed myself into the ambiance of dark magic. I used it to battle my brother; clashing together, we fought hard. When I saw an opening, I took it. I slammed Henry to the ground with full force, "You think that you, of all people, are going to be king?" I snickered to myself, "No! I won't have it because you, of all people, do not deserve the right to which I was given!" Then, I threw my hands up to deliver a heavy blow, but I was stopped. My brother was not focused on me anymore but something else entirely. Fear could be seen in his eyes as sweat dripped down his forehead. He tried to squirm away from whatever was haunting him.
Turning around, I was faced with my father. His eyes were filled with darkness as shadows swirled around him. Tears could be seen falling from his eyes as he uttered, "Διαχωριστής ψυχής (Dee-ah-hor-es-tea-ss Ph-ee-he-ss)!" Magic then came surging at me, my heart racing inside my chest. For I knew what was to come. This enraged me, for it was forbidden to use this magic against anyone. The fact that my father would use it against me is completely treacherous. I screamed in anger as loud as I could as the magical energy hit my chest.
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Our daughter ceased to exist. Her exterior form collapsed, and what was left was a mist, low to the floor. Turning to my wife, I stated, "We need to store her soul somewhere and send her out into the abyss. No one must know of this." My wife and son gazed at me with sadness and surprise. I could see that they did not agree with the fact that we needed to get rid of her existence. But this was the best way to protect the lineage of the crown.
My wife grabbed a book from a nearby shelf, "I know the perfect spell in which to bind her." Setting the book in between her hands, she closed her eyes in sadness and cast a binding spell, "With this book, I bind your spirit, Morgan Magic," Morgan's spirit began to float toward the book as my wife continued the spell, "You shall be trapped in this book until you are released by opening, Αιώνια δεσμευμένη (Ae-oh-nia Des-mev-many)." Morgan's spirit filled the pages of the book, and as it rested, my wife closed the book shut.
As a family, we traveled together through the kingdom, holding the book in our hands. With every passing step, I felt the loss of a daughter and the disappointment I had lingering within my chest. Reaching the edge of the kingdom, we held onto the book to which our daughter was bound. With a knife, I carved the letter "M," in memoriam to our daughter's name, on the cover in case the book was to return. But we hoped that she wouldn't return, for I knew she would seek vengeance on the world. At last, we released the book into the darkness, which shrouds our kingdom. With my family, we watched as the book drifted onward. With her spirit away from this kingdom, we can finally have an era of peace.