Skyclad (Fate's Anvil Book 1) Read online

  It was a much-needed release, and after a few minutes, Morgan felt much better, and well recovered in Mana and Stamina. Her body’s reserves were low, but there were literal tons of fresh meat less than a dozen yards away, so with food and safety at least minimally assured, she returned her attention to the previous notification.

  Initialize Class Selection now? [Yes/No]

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen, Lulu,” she said. The little scrubby responded with a puffling gesture very evocative of a shrug and hopped off her shoulder with a warble. The precocious loofah seemed completely over the train wreck that had been their entire night, and seemed to have decided to stand guard while Morgan did whatever it was she was about to do.

  Without further words, she responded to the notification with a mental yes.

  Class Selection Initializing. Preparing Temporal Suspension Instance.

  And then the world vanished around her.

  Chapter 10: Know Thyself

  Morgan Mackenzie was experiencing something she’d never before experienced. Absolute serenity. Or as close to it as it’s possible to get, she mused to herself. She stood upon ground that wasn’t ground. She could feel smooth, loamy dirt beneath her bare feet, but she couldn’t see it. Or anything else, for that matter.

  But the darkness didn’t feel oppressive. It was serene, calming, like a warm blanket on a cold night. For the first time in days, Morgan didn’t feel naked , though she still was. There was an expectancy in the air, like something was about to happen. But she didn’t feel frightened by it. or rushed, or anything else. Merely calm. Whatever’s supposed to happen will happen in its own time…

  After a period of time that could have been a few seconds or an eternity, the darkness receded slightly as Morgan received another notification:

  Class Selection Curation commencing…

  Choosing your Class is a commitment to a life-long path. This Choice is permanent, and may not be undone! If you find none of your available options acceptable, you may delay Selection until you meet conditions for other Classes.

  The area around Morgan brightened further, gently illuminating roiling black mists that retreated away from her to form a dome nearly thirty paces across. As the wall of mist retreated, a portion remained directly in front of her. It swirled and spiraled around itself in eerie tendrils to form a vaguely humanoid shape. As the shape coalesced into more detail, it seemed to solidify. The coal-colored shadow gave way to flesh tones starting at the feet, rippling upward, until suddenly Morgan was looking at…

  Morgan. Or a nearly perfect copy of me, thought the original Morgan. Other-Morgan stood perfectly still as they inspected each other, while Morgan herself shifted awkwardly in sudden nervousness. They were exactly the same, yet somehow, not. This other woman seemed wild, almost feral. Her hair was tangled and frazzled, with grit and small bits of twigs and leaves caught in it. She stood on the balls of her feet with her knees bent slightly, as if she were about to spring in any direction. Her intense blue eyes never blinked as they roved up and down Morgan’s own body, rapidly flicking about as if watching for danger from any possible direction.

  Those weren’t the only changes, however. Morgan had never been overly obsessed with her body image beyond her lack of curves, but compared to this Other- Morgan, she suddenly felt soft and flabby. Her doppelganger’s breasts were larger, just big enough that gravity was noticeable in the sway as the other woman took slow, deep breaths. Morgan would have felt jealous of that alone, but it paled into insignificance before the rest of the differences. This reflection of Morgan had muscles. Not big, garish, oversized muscles, but a wiry, toned body like skin stretched over whipcord steel. There was little softness here, aside from the natural femininity that was only magnified by the rest of the physique. Other-Morgan’s lean abs and belly flowed down to the natural vee shape Morgan herself had only ever dreamed of showing off at the beach. She has a freaking eight-pack, thought Morgan.

  It wasn’t a musculature for showing off, though. The woman’s skin was marred with scars, and the rope-like tendons of her arms flowed into bony wrists and battle-worn hands with jagged, elongated nails. Her feet were dirty and stained and in a similar state, toes splayed out like talons gripping the earth for better purchase.

  Both Morgans studied each other for a long moment before another notification interrupted:

  Before making this irrevocable choice, know thyself!

  Morgan wondered for a split second if the Other-Morgan had received a notification as well, but all doubt left her mind when her altered reflection hissed and dropped into a crouch while looking up and around frantically. The sudden movement startled the original Morgan, and she stepped back a pace and held up her hands in a peace-making gesture.

  “Whoa, hold up it’s okay! It’s okay!” she said to the frightened alter-version of herself. The feral woman bared her teeth at Morgan while gliding backward with cat-like grace. Arcs of energy began to crackle threateningly around her hands, which the woman had raised up into a defensive position. Morgan resisted the urge to draw her own power as she slowly backed away another step to give her other self some more space. She lowered her own hands and turned them, palms out, toward the wild version of herself and spoke again in slower, softer tones.

  “I don’t wanna fight you, girl…”

  “Nnnnnnnn!”

  The other woman seemed to be trying to force a word past her clenched teeth, or not to know how to say the word in the first place. Then those wild eyes went wide and the woman swayed as the sparks fizzled out around her hands, before she shook her head and resumed her defensive stance. “Nnn—” she tried again and then took a deep breath. “No! No fight… Talk—”

  “You understand me?” Morgan asked, relieved that she wasn’t trapped in some sort of death-match with her mirror image. Probably not a death-match then, she thought. Maybe. I hope…

  The other woman seemed relieved, if her shift in stance back to a more relaxed but wary posture was any indication, while nodding her head happily up and down. “Talk is…” the woman continued to struggle, as if she knew the meanings but not the words to convey them.

  “…hard. You speak, give words!”

  The last part snapped out like a plea, or a demand, Morgan couldn’t be certain which. “You want to talk but don’t know the words?” she asked the other woman.

  A triumphant smile changed Other-Morgan’s feral appearance to one much brighter and less savage, almost innocent, and completely without deception. “YES!” She beamed at Morgan. She bounced from foot to foot happily for a moment, then tried to talk some more. “You un-unner… no.” Another deep breath followed. “You. Understand. Good. Gooder? No… please. Talk. More words. I learn.”

  The original Morgan stood in confused thought for a moment while the other-her pulled at her tangled mat of messy hair in frustration before speaking up again.

  “You learn to talk better when I talk with you?” Morgan said.

  “Yes, yes!” The other woman seemed almost giddy and did the quick dance again. “Talk more!” the Other-Morgan demanded eagerly.

  “I have no idea what to say, though. Should I just ramble? And why do you look like me?” responded Morgan. The exuberant happy radiating off her other self was contagious somehow, but then everything about this strange manifestation had been extremely intense, as if the other woman was incapable of holding back her expressions. The next thing the doppelganger said made total sense, given the situation, but was still a shock for Morgan to have it confirmed.

  “Not look like Morgan. Am Morgan. You Morgan, me Morgan. We am Morgan.”

  “I think I understand! Are you some possible future me? Some way this world works with its magic and levels that we don’t have back on Earth?” Morgan asked, thinking it might be some sort of test or kind of spirit walk like in the movies. Pop culture for the win! she thought, until the wilder woman’s entire demeanor changed.

  The other woman looked at her with an express
ion like she’d just smelled something gross and unpleasant. “No, stupid!” Other-Morgan said, stomping one foot like a young child in a tantrum. “Not future Morgan. Now Morgan. Always Morgan! Talk more! Then Morgan tell…better”

  The Other briskly turned and paced back and forth with a muttering prowl as the original Morgan stood in stunned silence. After a few moments, she drew a breath and softly spoke.

  “I’m not sure what to talk about. If you really are me, shouldn’t you know all the shit I’ve been through ever since I got here?”

  Wild-Morgan seemed to pick up on the sadness in her voice and ceased her pacing to step slowly toward Morgan with a knowing look. She placed her palm gently on Morgan’s temple and softly said, “You Morgan.” Then she slid the hand down Morgan’s neck, between her breasts, to rest it just over her navel. “Me Morgan. In—” She seemed to struggle for the word, but finally managed a quiet whisper. “Instinct. Feelings. I am. Are. This so hard… please more words I learn…fast. I learn fast you- no. I. Learn. Fast. If. You. Help. Talk. Any words. Please.”

  The effort of so much verbalization seemed to completely drain her, and Other-Morgan melted down to a sitting position with an exhausted whooshing of air from her lungs.

  “Phew…” said Morgan, taking a half-step back. “That’s some heavy shit to drop on a person like that. So you’re what, my gut feelings and instincts? Then how can you even talk at all?”

  The sitting woman raised an eyebrow at her with an expression like Morgan had asked another stupid question. “Only here. This place. This… Time. This is place of knowing. Only get one… What word. Visit. Only one. Never again after. Please talk more. All words help.”

  “I was telling the truth when I said I just don’t know what to say,” said Morgan. “All I can do is ramble shit off you already know, if you are me and all that.”

  “Ramble fine. Ramble IS fine. Learn me how words—Learn how words fit. I learn how words fit. Ramble is good.”

  “Wait, so you know things, but not how to put the words together? Can’t you just borrow that from me if we’re the same person?” Morgan sat down herself with her legs crossed under her and looked her counterpart in the eyes. “Or does it not work that way in this place?”

  Her other-self looked back with a grin. “You getting it. Here we not one, we apart. But only in this place. After, one again. And I lose words. This only—This is only one-time thing. For knowing self. Agreement.”

  Morgan propped her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee in thought. “So this is obviously something to do with choosing a class in this world. And after this, I’ll never get to talk with you again? And you say you’re my instincts or instinctive self. Were you ever with me on Earth?”

  “Yes. Must have agreement choose—Both agree—” the woman shuddered with the effort, but finally spoke an entire coherent sentence. “We both must agree on the Class we choose!” The words left Other-Morgan clutching her head and panting, but grinning at her success. She seemed to consider for a few moments before choosing her next word. “Correct. After this, no talk again. Probaly. Probably? Maybe in very strong dream, only maybe. Very very maybe.”

  “So it’s not likely we’ll talk again, but there’s a slim chance we can if I dream deeply enough?” Morgan asked. The other woman nodded with a smile and made a rolling gesture with her hand, begging for more words.

  “What about Earth? Have you always been me, has it always been us, even before this world with magic?”

  “Always us. Me always—I have always there. Been. There. With you. But sleeping mostly. Earth safe. You safe. You were safe. With tribe. Family. Me—I not always needed, so asleep. Awake more when you little, and scared. Awake less when bigger.” The words seemed to come a little easier to the feral version of Morgan, and a more confident and less fidgety woman was slowly taking the place of the frightened girl who had first appeared. “As child. Awake more when you child, and needed me. Then asleep until not child. Until woman. First mating. Awake for mating. Always awake for mating! Fun!”

  The original Morgan found herself blushing furiously, covering herself with an arm across her chest and a hand between her legs. “I’m not sure how to feel about that, um…can we talk about things other than mating, please?”

  “HA!” the other woman laughed. “You no fun, that why I awake then, you too—what word—embarrassed. Shy. Need me those times. Even though you want same fun, still need me! I help not be shy, you have better matings.”

  Morgan shook her head and feared she’d die from embarrassment. And from being embarrassed by my own inner self, at that!!! Forcibly regaining control of her composure, she cleared her throat before talking again. “Ahem. Yes. Well then. Um. Earth. You were asleep on Earth most of the time except when I needed you. What happened here, how did you wake up, so to speak?”

  “Already awake. Other woman steal mate, you—we—angry. MINE! OURS! Territory! Already awake when you angry!” The woman lunged to her feet with anger. She seemed to be completely open and expressive, no matter what the topic, unable or unwilling to even try to control her emotions, and the words became more snarl than speech by the time she finished.

  “But then I decided to go find another man,” Morgan said, with a twinge of regret and sadness.

  The other woman slapped her hard enough to send Morgan ass over teakettle. Ears ringing, she stumbled to her feet, shouting, “What was that for!?”

  “NO REGRET! NO SHAME!” the other woman shouted at her angrily. “She take; if she can take, he not worthy! Find better!”

  “Hey, I completely agree with you there, dammit! No need to hit me! I thought you wanted to talk!”

  The other woman seemed utterly chastised, verging on tears as she clutched Morgan in a desperate hug. “I sorry. You think. I feel. I am only feel. Can only think here, is hard. Hardest thing I ever do. But have to so you can understand me. Understand self. So WE can understand…”

  She stepped back from Morgan with a calmer expression. “Please, more words. Getting easier to say what mean. What I mean.”

  Morgan rubbed her jaw, but the anger had faded with the pleading hug and apology from her other self. She paced back and forth under the dome of shadows while she spoke. “So you’re like my primal self, all the primitive feelings, and you were close to the surface because I was so angry. And then we fell through to this world, and I panicked and freaked out. What did that do to you?”

  “Then I was very awake! More awake than ever before, except when you were a child and afraid of the dark, or your first man many year later. Only other times I was that awake!”

  “But I don’t understand, why are you always asleep?”

  “It so hard to explain. Never truly asleep. But close. All peoples are, for a long long long time. Earth is safe most places, most times. Earth is—Earth is tamed. Not no danger but danger is less danger, no…” Another pause and deep breaths. “Earth is less dangerous now. Except war places. Biggest danger other people.” The other woman gestured as she spoke, her expressions flickering so openly and honestly, Morgan could almost forget they looked so alike. Those expressive eyes locked on hers and Other-Morgan said, “You understand me?”

  “I think so,” Morgan replied. “You aren’t just my inner self. You’re the primitive side that kept humans alive before fire and guns. Survival instincts? No, not just survival. Primal. ”

  There was a savage glee in the Other-Morgan’s eyes as she spoke those words, her teeth bared and eyes bright while she slowly nodded. “YES !” she hissed at Morgan with a guttural tone that was both sensual and intimidating at the same time. “I am your fight!” she said, her clawed fists swiping through the air and trailing actinic purple sparks as she danced in place like a boxer. “And I’m your flee!” she hissed as she sprinted a circle around the shadowed dome.

  Morgan’s own heart beat a sharp, staccato rhythm as she found the other woman’s complete lack of emotional restraint pull her along with its honest abandon. Other-Morgan
darted behind her suddenly, hands slipping around Morgan’s waist to pull her tightly against the other’s body. She nuzzled at her neck, inhaling the scent of Morgan’s hair. One of the woman’s hands curled up to her breast while the other slid gently between her legs, and Morgan felt her whole body flush with heat as fingers danced and teeth lightly nipped her shoulder before an extremely erotic whisper reached her ear with a sultry, soft rasp. “And I’m your sex when your man gets it just right.”

  Other-Morgan spun away with an almost sinister laugh, leaving the original standing there gasping for breath. “Primal. That’s the best and only word. I’ve always been there, when you needed to survive. That’s my number one concern. Survival. For you. For your kin. For your tribe, your pack, your family. That has always been why I exist. Why I will always exist. When our people first tamed the fire to fight the night, I was there.”

  Morgan couldn’t speak. The Other-Morgan seemed to have found all the words she needed, and now spoke with such intensity, such sheer ferocity and raw emotion, that Morgan herself stood captivated.

  “I’m your primal drives. Fight or flight, hunger for food, for a mate. I’m why you want children, to nest up and nurture the next generation. Survive doesn’t just include you. It includes your entire line. Your family, your legacy. I’m always there in the background, but I usually don’t have to do much. You have safety. You have food. You have family, your world has laws, and most people are peaceful. So I can just snooze in the background, letting you be silly or stupid, because even if you make mistakes, you will still survive. And if you do end up wandering into those few dangerous places left in your world? I wake back up to warn you away from dark alleys, dangerous men, or shadows in the woods at night. And of course I wake up when you get your freak on, it gets boring as hell just riding passenger all the time.”

  Morgan was utterly fascinated. Everything the woman said made perfect sense in some ways, but her situation since arriving in this world still had no explanation. She tried to frame her own questions, but the words stumbled together.