Chapter 4: Broken Little Hearts

Norman carried the Mighty One upstairs at Virgil's direction, tucking the boy into his bed. His skin was pale, and his eyes seemed sunken into dark circles on his cheeks.

"Should I try to wake him up?"

"No." Virgil held out a hand before Norman could start shaking the Mighty One. "He is not asleep. He is not even what medical science would call unconscious. He is trapped in his own mind by Morgan le Fay. Nothing you can do will wake him now."

"Would she truly harm him, do you think?" Norman asked.

Virgil's expression went grim. "I believe we must both fear the worst."

"Then what do we do?" Norman asked. He was nearly vibrating with the need to strike against that which had hurt his Mighty One.

"I...I have an idea." Virgil swallowed. "But it is risky at best." He reached out to smooth the boy's hair under the Cosmic Cap, settling it more securely as if it would lend the Mighty One its strength in his time of need.

"Risky works." Norman looked at the boy. "Risky is better than nothing."

"I am not sure the Mighty One will agree with you." But Virgil was digging in his robes already, drawing out a small pouch tied tightly with a string. "However, we have little choice. We must act, and quickly. There is no telling what Morgan le Fay is doing within his mind."

He tipped the bag out into his hand. The light caught a reflective surface and made the tiny sliver of material shine.

"Virgil." Norman leaned over. "Is that…?"

"Yes." Virgil peered at it, smaller than a pebble, barely larger than a grain of sand but sharper than a shard of glass. "It is a piece of Skullmaster's Crystal of Souls."

"I thought we split that up with the Mighty One after he destroyed it."

"We did." Virgil shut his eyes. "This was left behind in a plastic bag the Mighty One used to catch all the pieces. Rather than hide it, I thought perhaps it might be useful someday."

Norman looked at it askance. "How exactly is that thing going to be useful?"

"Though no longer fueled by the power of the trapped souls of Atlantis, the crystal itself was possessed of not insignificant power. And, as evidenced by the events in Toyama, even an uncharged crystal of this type can have an influence over the mind."

"You're going to use that to invade his mind the way Skullmaster did." Norman's tone was flat, cold.

"I have no choice." Virgil's words were sure, but his voice was not. "I cannot leave him defenseless against Morgan's manipulations. As much as this is a betrayal, I believe it is better than to do nothing."

"But it's Skullmaster's power! It's evil! How do you even know you can control it?" Norman asked, crossing his arms.

"Because." And Virgil's beak twisted in a near snarl. "I taught him how to do this!"

Norman rocked back. "Virgil…"

"There is no other way."

"You don't know that. We could ask the Ghostbusters, or Bai Huo and those warriors in Japan. Or Rath, if you can figure out how to get to him across dimensions again."

Virgil shook his head. "The Ghostbusters are men of science, not magic. And for all the powers of the Ronins and their spirit guardian, I do not believe they can help me reach into his mind. As much as I trust them, I cannot allow any but myself to make this journey."

Norman scowled. "I'm his Guardian."

"Yes." Virgil closed a hand around the shard of the Crystal of Souls. "And there are three very good reasons why you can only remain as his Guardian if you do not make this attempt with me."

"I'm listening."

"First, just as when we entered the astral plane to rescue the Mighty One once before, as soon as I penetrate the Mighty One's mind, my body will be vulnerable. I know it is rare for danger to strike here, but it is not impossible. Someone must remain to stand guard in case some other evil chooses this moment to rise."

Norman grunted. "That's one."

"Second, unless I am incorrect, Morgan le Fay is inhabiting the Mighty One in a magical manner which has no corporeal component. Casting her out of his mind will take the use of the Mighty One's own powers and a great deal of concentration. In short, there is nothing for you to hit, Norman, no enemy you can vanquish with a sword."

"That's two."

"Third." Virgil sighed. "If the Mighty One does feel that my use of this evil to save him is...unacceptable, then that leaves you untainted. There is no telling what Morgan has done to twist his perceptions of me, but her hatred seems fixed upon myself. Therefore, it is logical to leave you untouched by any such ill association. When we have saved the Mighty One, that will ensure he at least has no conflicted feelings about you."

"Virgil…"

"The only thing that matters is his well-being," Virgil said, words suddenly clipped and sharp. "We can repair our communication later. And that will come more easily if he still believes he has an ally in you."

Norman reached out and planted a hand next to where Virgil was leaning on the Mighty One's bed.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Virgil looked away, but Norman only leaned closer. He gave a very un-Lemurian like growl.

"Events are beginning to align with what I saw in my scrolls. I do not know for certain what will happen next, but the fact that it is Morgan le Fay with whom we are dealing suggests that she will do anything she can to separate the Mighty One from myself. She has clearly transferred her hatred for Merlin to me."

"Mighty Max could never hate you," Norman said gently.

"He could be made to hate me," Virgil said. "She could easily do so. Merlin and I were too similar. And, in the end, I did not question his decisions even when he banished her — and this is the result."

Norman considered his oldest friend. "There's something else you're not telling me."

"You're right." But Virgil shook his head. "Hopefully I can reach the Mighty One and nothing more will happen. Therefore, I must act quickly."

Norman leaned back. "Okay. But if this goes bad, I'm calling Peter."

Virgil huffed. "Very well."

He lifted the shard of the Crystal of Souls delicately between two fingers.

"Forgive me, Mighty One."

Then he very gently scratched the boy's exposed arm, drawing blood. Before he could rethink this course of action, he pushed the shard through his feathers onto the pad of his thumb, wincing at the flash of pain and the dark tendril of magic he could sense entering his blood through the cut it left behind.

"Don't lose this," he said, handing it to Norman. Norman blinked at the tiny flake of a crystal, then dumped it on the highest shelf of the Mighty One's bedroom.

Virgil just shook his head and sighed. "Give me four hours, Norman. After that, do what you think is best."

"Good luck."

And Virgil pushed his bleeding thumb against the cut on the Mighty One's arm. From deep inside, he drew forth an ancient incantation, older than Norman, older than human civilization. The words fell from him like tears, cold and sorrowful.

He had only an instant to ensure the connection was forged before he was drawn into darkness.

-==OOO==-

"Morg!" Max yelled into the darkness. "Where are you? What did you just do?"

He was scared. His hands were curled into fists and his heart in his chest — which was in his head, but it was still real, right? — was pounding.

"You did the thing you said you'd never do — you took control without permission! You owe me an explanation!"

The yelling helped, but the silence in answer did not.

He sucked in a breath and shut his eyes. Even in the darkness, he was still inside his own head (probably) and he still had power (he hoped).

This is my mind. And if she can reach me, then I can reach her. Morgan le Fay, answer me!

"Chosen One."

He opened his eyes to Morgan standing across from him. However, she looked different. Her clear grey eyes were glowing with an eerie light. Her cloak seemed not to lie still across her shoulders; it moved like water in a turbulent stream.

"Morg. What was that? Why did you try to hurt Virgil and Norman?"

"Because they intended upon hurting me," she returned. Her voice, which had been Max's constant companion, had lost the cool, almost gentle tone he knew; now it was hard and held an edge of something wild and mad. "They would shut me up in the dark again!"

"Hey, no." He held out a hand, immediately dialling down his anger. "They were just worried about me. I didn't tell them about you, and they probably thought Skullmaster was in my head again. Or Bran was trying to get control or something. That's all."

"That is false, Chosen One. For your teacher knows me well enough, or did once. Your precious Guardian remembers me and my pain. They have always feared me, feared my power. They would never allow you to continue to succor me in my suffering."

"Wait. You knew Virg and Normie?" Max blinked. "I thought Merlin was the one who…"

"How little you understand!" She scoffed. "Your Norman was once known by another name — Lancelot. Your Virgil advised Merlin himself. Together, they conspired along with Merlin to bind me in this eternity of emptiness!"

Max felt the rush of her loathing and hate and fear, and fought it. "No way! Merlin must have lied to them or something. Virgil and Norman would never hurt anybody who didn't deserve it!"

"You do not comprehend." She turned and swept an arm across the blank space. "Your Guardian seldom thinks for himself. Even when I knew him as Lancelot, he served better as Arthur's dog than a hero in his own right."

The image showed Norman dressed as a knight, on one knee before a hazy figure.

"But the teacher you revere, the Lemurian, he is something else altogether."

The image swirled and was replaced by a scene of Virgil standing beside a tall man wearing long robes. They were bent towards one another as if sharing a secret, and there was something in Virgil's eyes that Max had only seen once, though he couldn't place it. It wasn't a look that normally belonged to the teacher he knew so well, though. It would have fit better on Skullmaster's face.

"Virgil has no love greater than the love for his prophecies," she said. "He would sacrifice even you for them and you know it."

"He's changed!" Max objected. "He was uptight when we first met, but he's not like that anymore!"

"How can you be so sure? You have known him only a short span of mortal years. He is conniving and deceitful — he can twist your trust and manipulate your heart as a master plays the harp. You know that he has lied to you, repeatedly. That he has kept his secrets when he thought it best served his aim."

"Yeah, but…"

Whatever Max was going to say was lost as a frigid wind blew through the darkness.

Max flinched, and was surprised when he found himself enclosed in Morgan's cloak, her own arms closed around him protectively.

"Morg?"

"Do you feel it?" she asked. "The evil that approaches?"

Max swallowed and nodded. There was something sickening in the air, like a bad smell combined with a subsonic vibration. "It feels like standing in a dark alley outside a sleazy metal bar," he said.

"Stay close, Chosen One. While you and I may not be in agreement on these matters, I will allow no harm to come to you. That is my vow, for you are the only light in my darkness."

"Uh, that was oddly profound."

"Hush, now. We must prepare."

Max nodded. He took the tense moment that followed to sort out his own feelings as well.

Morgan was wrong about Virgil, obviously. She had been hurt so badly by Merlin, it was no wonder she would associate anything he'd done with everyone else in the vicinity. And if she was telling the truth that Virgil and Merlin had known one another, that would make a lot of sense, actually. But Virgil really wasn't that bad.

However, from her perspective, maybe she had a point. She'd been hurt and scared. She'd been banished to darkness and madness and isolation for hundreds of years. And the first thing she saw when she got out was a familiar face who was buddies with the person who did it to her. That would be enough to set anybody on edge.

Even now, when he could sense her rage at Virgil, he was still aware of her feelings for him, and those were not frightening. Morgan cared about him, potently enough that he could feel it. She wasn't trying to hurt him — she was trying to protect herself from a threat, and protect him as well. Her way of going about it could use some work, but Max couldn't exactly fault her.

The cold in the air increased dramatically and Max shivered, huddling closer into Morgan's cloak.

"Mighty One!"

Max jumped in surprise. "Virgil?"

Morgan's arms around him squeezed painfully tight for a moment. "It cannot be!"

"Mighty One!" With a new rush of cold came a rotting smell. In its wake, a familiar fowl appeared. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Virg! How'd you even get here?"

"You have used dark magic!" Morgan shouted, altogether too close to Max's ear. "I can sense the blood and death of it. Deny it if you dare!"

"I cannot." Virgil drew himself up, facing them across the darkness. "Mighty One, I have made use of the last shard of Skullmaster's Crystal of Souls to penetrate your mind in order to help you."

Max recoiled, grateful for Morgan's support. "You did what?"

"It was the only way."

"You see?" Morgan held Max tightly. "Even for you, he taps into the most evil powers, powers of death and suffering, because he cannot do otherwise. Like Merlin, he is so certain of his superiority, he cares nothing for those he hurts!"

"That's not true," Virgil snapped. "I was pushed to such recklessness by your own actions, Morgan. I would never have touched Skullmaster's evil but for the risk to the Mighty One that you pose!"

"Oh? Really?"

Max looked up to see the furious look on her face, but he was more interested in her sense of victory bouncing around in his heart. "What is it?"

"You forget, Virgil, that my powers were once vast, and here they are great still. I know you, Virgil of Lemuria. I know who you are, and, of greater consequence, I know who you were."

Virgil actually took a step back. "Morgan…"

"You claim that you would never work evil. If that is so, then tell the Chosen One where Skullmaster learned his own!"

Max felt his stomach drop. "Virg? What does she mean?"

Virgil shook his head. "It...it isn't what it sounds like, Mighty One. You know that I…"

"He was Skullmaster's own Teacher," Morgan interrupted. "You know that already."

Max managed a nod.

"Did you truly believe that Skullmaster learned the majority of his dark competencies from nothing? No! All that he knows, all that he has done, it was all born from Virgil's own teachings!" Morgan released Max to point an accusing finger at Virgil. "Every drop of blood he ever shed is on your hands!"

Virgil held up both his hands beseechingly to Max. "Mighty One, you must give me a chance to explain."

"You will do no such thing." Morgan interposed herself and began to glow. "Your pretty words may serve to cover too many lies. However, if it is truth you wish to pass onto the Chosen One, allow me."

"No!" Virgil covered his head, but he could not prevent the strike of light.

"Virgil!" Max ducked around Morgan in time to see the Lemurian disappear. "What did you do to him?"

Morgan turned to him with eyes that burned. "I sent him away. He would never have told you the full truth, not willingly. But you deserve to know it. You deserve to know in whom you have placed your trust, and what he has kept from you."

"Morgan…" Max began.

"I will not hurt you," she said. She held up a ball of churning light. "But I must open your eyes, Chosen One. Only then may you be truly safe."

Max couldn't even brace himself before he was lost in her power.

-==OOO==-

"No!" Virgil sat up, almost falling off the bed.

"What happened?" Norman asked, catching Virgil and steadying him. "You were only out for a couple of minutes."

"Morgan is devious. She has painted me as the Mighty One's enemy, and it seems she will stop at nothing to drive a wedge between us."

"But what did she do?"

Virgil opened his beak to answer, but was interrupted by a sudden motion on the bed.

Max's whole body went rigid, trembling with the force of it. For a moment, Virgil thought he could perceive a slight silver glow on his skin, but it faded at once. Then Max's skin, already pale, drained of all color entirely. He mumbled incomprehensibly for a moment.

"Didn't Morgan have some kind of powers over the mind?" Norman asked, watching in horror.

"Yes, and it appears she possesses them still." Virgil curled his hands into fists. "And the Mighty One is helpless against her."

The mumbling stopped as quickly as it had begun, only to be replaced by a word which was crystal clear.

"S...S'arelmari!" Max's body twitched and the word was ripped from him again. "S'arelmari!"

Norman looked at Virgil. "That sounds...kinda familiar. What's it supposed to mean?"

Virgil wrapped two feathered hands around Max's hand and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "No. Not that. Please."

"Virgil?"

"She is…" Virgil's voice dropped even lower. "She is telling him something. He is...learning that which I never wished him to know."

Norman stepped up nearer, and Virgil couldn't have said if it was in protection of himself or of Max. Virgil couldn't have said who needed to be protected more, either.

"Virgil. What is she doing to him?"

"She is…she is revealing my own distant past."

"Yours?"

"Yes." Virgil could feel something in his chest begin to shake. "Before I was ever Virgil. Before Skullmaster was...before he was anything but my student. And...and my friend."

Norman wordlessly dropped a hand onto Virgil's shoulder.

"He will...when he knows…" Virgil looked up at Norman with eyes that were haunted and pained. "This is what I feared to tell him. Mighty Max will never trust me again, Norman. Not when he knows."

Norman tightened his grip a bit. "Then go back in there. Explain it. Protect him, Virgil. As only you can."

Virgil shook his head, misery and defeat in every line of his body.

"Not from this. I cannot protect him from the truth of what used to be. From...what I myself used to be."

"What could be that bad? What exactly were you back then?" Norman asked.

Virgil turned back to Max.

"A fool. A...a pawn. I was...much younger than he is now, in many ways. So sure of myself and of my destiny. So sure...that I became responsible for bringing ruin to all of Lemuria."

"Virgil…" Norman swallowed. "Did you really…?"

"Yes." Virgil closed his eyes and focused only on the slack fingers in his grip. "It seems almost a different person who lived then, who did those things. But it was me. Not...not as you know me now. I was...I was not equal to the task I had been given. All their hopes...the future of my people...it rested on me."

Suddenly, as surprised by it as Norman, he gave a dark, bitter laugh.

"They Named me, just before it all began. Named me for the virtues they trusted me to uphold. But...I failed. I failed them all."

Norman shook himself, and then he shook Virgil slightly.

"You're not the same person, Virgil. You said it yourself. It was a different person then. Now, right now, you're the Mighty One's only hope. Max's only hope. You have to try."

"I…"

"Virgil." Norman lowered his head to face his friend squarely. "If she really is trying to destroy the Mighty One with your past, then you are the only one who can save him. Whatever weapons from your mind she's turning against him, you're the only one who can stop them. So get back in there and do it."

Norman stopped, shut his eyes for an instant, and opened them. And would have denied to his dying day the pleading he could not keep from them.

"Please, Virgil. I can't fight this for him. You must."

Virgil, throat tight, nodded. He rubbed at his thumb to loosen the scab, and pressed it to the Mighty One's sluggishly-bleeding arm once more.

And he reached down into himself, down to where he had closed the doors of his heart thousands of years before. Down to memories from ages where humanity had only begun to form language. Down to the time of Lemuria's golden age.

Down to when Virgil had become a new Teacher, and had been so hauntingly Named...

-==OOO==-

"Let the acolyte stand to center for the Naming!"

All the eyes of the city fell upon the young fowl who moved on trembling legs to the very middle of the open forum, cognizant of his carefully-trimmed claws that made audible clicks on the ancient tiles as he moved. His own Teacher had already taken her place with the Elders, and never had the city that was Lemuria's heart seemed so vast and so silent.

Upon reaching the center, designated by a glowing emblem of the life-giving SunSoul, he folded his feathered hands together — and hoped none could see them tremble.

The voice of the Eldest of Elders resounded with authority and honor.

"Acolyte. You have completed the studies set you by your Teacher. You stand here ready."

His beak was dry and his throat was worse, but he forced both to open to reply in a voice that was so very small.

"I do, Eldest."

He could almost feel the wisdom radiating from the highest seat of the Elders.

"You are young, very young indeed to claim Right of Naming and Right of Teaching."

His eyes flicked to his own Teacher, but she was silent, face unmoving as stone.

He squared his shoulders. This was his task, and he would see it through.

"Yes, Eldest."

"Is it arrogance or foolishness which drives you to this, acolyte? You have not yet even passed one hundred summers of contemplation."

This time he lifted his beak higher and felt his answer in his thin chest.

"It is neither, Eldest. It is Destiny."

Even the staid peoples of Lemuria who were in attendance began to murmur in surprise.

The Eldest leaned forward. "And how can you be so certain that you alone are aware of Destiny's secret ways?"

He drew in a slow breath. Then he began to recite a passage of the Four Thousand Epos from memory. It flowed from him as easily as breath with the smoothness of water over stones. Words learned before he knew himself, before he knew his people. Words that were the first he ever wrote, or sang, or spoke.

Even so, he recited them with his eyes squeezed tightly closed, opening them only when he was finished.

"I see." The Eldest had yet to so much as frown. "And so you are the one whose coming is described? You are the one born in the light of a midnight's day with the language of the gods inscribed upon the water of your first skin?"

"Upon the inside of my eggshell, Eldest. Yes." Then, with a bit of raw courage, "You, yourself, declared it so at my hatching."

"I am aware."

He swallowed and took the silence for an invitation to speak. "I have passed my trials, Eldest and Elders. I have mastered the studies set to me. My Teacher has declared me acolyte. For...for my Destiny to unfold, I must take this next step."

"And what step is that?"

"To claim Right of Naming, and Right of Teaching. To be one who walks the path of True Wisdom."

"And what do you believe is your Destiny, acolyte? Simply to Teach? To become Wise?"

He had considered this question himself and was ready with the answer.

"The Epos say only that I shall Teach, and in Teaching, shall the future of Lemuria herself be written."

He almost gasped when the Eldest leaned back, face contorting for the barest moment in what looked like sorrow. But it could have been nothing — certainly any impression of anything other than utter serenity was gone again just as quickly. Perhaps he imagined it.

"What have you been called until now, acolyte?"

"I am Philospiti, Eldest."

"No longer. We grant the Right of Naming."

He looked to his Teacher, and was surprised that she was not moving. Instead, where she should have been the one to rise in order to Name him, she who knew him better than all others, the Eldest was striding to the floor.

He felt a frisson of fear across his skin, rippling his pale feathers. Never in his short lifetime, and never in the many accounts of the Right of Naming he had read in advance, had the Eldest completed the Naming directly.

"Friend to Our People may you always be," the Eldest intoned, "but you shall be Named hereafter in accordance with the will of the Elders and the Fate which binds us all."

He looked up, up, up into the ancient, impassive face with the eyes that swirled with the ages of the cosmos, eyes that had seen too much and knew far more, eyes that held Wisdom and Truth themselves in a constant balance.

The Eldest placed a strong hand upon his feathered head.

"Let the acolyte become a Teacher. And let this Teacher be Named Areti."

Newly-Named Areti bowed in the traditional way. It was not the Name he had expected, and he was profoundly honored. But he could also see the simple logic in the choice the Eldest had made. If he was the Destined one of Lemuria, they would hope that he carried all of their virtues with him — thus to name him Virtue.

The Eldest spoke again.

"Teacher Areti, into your hands we gift this most precious of students. Guide him well, that he may take his place beside us in the service of the SunSoul for the benefit of all life."

Areti looked up to see a small, thin creature entering the circle. He was humanoid in form, unlike Areti's own birdlike species, but oddly pale even for a human. His black eyes were wide and hungry.

Areti belatedly offered the correct response. "It is my honor to Teach."

He waited. This was the moment the Elders and the Eldest would give Areti the chance to offer his student a name — not a true Name, but one to use until the Teaching was over and the acolyte himself stood for the Right of Naming. Areti opened his beak to ask the boy what he would prefer to be called; better that than to name a child he had never met.

But the Eldest surprised him again and skipped that part of the ceremony, moving straight to the end instead.

"Teacher Areti, we place this child, now student, into your care. We beseech you, hold fast to the Wisdom of Lemuria. Go forth, Teacher and student, in search of your Destiny."

Areti swallowed, trying to shake off the shock as the Eldest retreated, not giving another glance to the young student who stood, looking at pale hands in a too-bright circle of light. The Elders rose as the Eldest joined them, all they all exited the forum. The populace who had gathered did the same, leaving the diminutive fowl and his new student alone in the center of the glowing tiles.

Areti drew himself up to his full height and approached his new student.

"Greetings. I am Areti and I shall be your Teacher. Have you a name we shall call you until you complete your studies?"

The black eyes flashed for an instant.

"I will be called S'arelmari."