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In her dream, Claire found herself back in the derelict version of her house that had been her prison in the Shadow Realm.
She wandered aimlessly. Just looking and remembering, occasionally picking something up and then putting it back. Eventually she found herself in the living room.
“There you are.”
At the familiar voice, all sense of calm left her. She spun around, a purple glow appearing in her eyes and between her fingers.
The golden sorceress lay reclined on the couch watching her. It was hard to tell for sure with the way her helmet obscured her face, but Claire thought she saw amusement there.
“Relax,” Morgana said, waving a hand lazily at her. “I mean you no harm.”
“Sure.” Claire would believe that when trolls started living on the Sun.
Morgana scoffed.
“So suspicious,” She said tutting. “It just so happens that I am telling the truth. I invited you here to warn you. I believe there is a plague ravaging your world?”
“The Rash?” Claire asked, puzzled by this new direction.
“Yes. A rather poor name, but you humans were never very creative,” The sorceress said. “Your world has no understand of its peril. You would be wise to bring all those you care about into Trollmarket immediately. The trolls should be immune, so they will be safe there.”
“What?!” Claire exclaimed, caught off guard. “It’s just a flu.”
The way the rash was spreading was certainly alarming but it didn’t seem to be anything terrible enough to warrant taking her family away from the light of the sun to live among trolls. As long as they stayed home as much as they could they would be fine.
Morgana rose smoothly to her feet and strode over to a window to look out.
“Foolish child,” She said. “You are not paying attention to the magic around you. If you were you would know that this is no mere illness.”
Claire’s skin prickled.
Was Morgana telling the truth? She really had no reason to lie about this. Not as far as Claire to see.
“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. “Wouldn’t you be happier if I got sick and died?”
The sorceress glanced at her and Claire shivered under her cold green gaze.
“I admit I would like to see you suffer for trapping me here,” Morgana said. “But if would be of no benefit to me if you fall to the plague. You are, after all, one of the few people who is capable of accessing this realm and potentially freeing me.”
Claire jerked back.
“I would never free you!” She shouted.
Morgana gave her an unimpressed look and laughed.
“Do not be so hasty,” She said calmly. “The world is changing. You will need the help that I can offer.”
Claire grit her teeth and then jolted in surprise as the Shadow Realm began to fade around her. She must be waking up.
“Remember well my words,” Morgana said as she disappeared from Claire’s sight. “There are things far more dark and cruel in this world than I.”
Claire sat up, panting. Beside her Jim mumbled and then sat up as well.
“Nightmare?” He asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily, even as he wrapped his other arm around her. A pillow hung off of one of his horns.
“Maybe,” Claire said. Unfortunately she suspected it hadn’t just been her mind making things up.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Claire frowned. Telling Jim that Morgana was still communicating with her would scare him…. But if there was any substance to the witch’s warning, he needed to know about it.
“Give me a little while to think then I’ll tell you,” She decided.
Jim frowned at that but nodded.
Claire sighed and then snuggled further into his side.
Worse than Morgana…
What was this Rash Illness really?