Mor’anai

Phantom Queen of City Forest, Avenger of the Stolen

Morrígna by C0dexverdigris

Crows

Today, in creative writing class, my teacher FINALLY said my name right. 

We learned about the Morrígna, three sisters. But I don’t think we’re supposed to. Can’t imagine we’re allowed to know about Irish phantom goddesses that teach you to be free and fight. 

Also, the sky is full of crows. 

Forest

They stole father and brother. 

I was walking home from school, turned the corner onto our street and gasped, like the wind was knocked out of me. Our front door was smashed in. Staring, I crept toward it, like I was walking toward a corpse. My body didn’t wanna go inside our house but my heart did. Shaking through my voice, I called for father and brother. 

No answer. Just empty cold silence. My eyes got hot. I looked about to find my way. My neighborhood suddenly strange and unknown to me. I was lost now and needed to get unlost, figure where to hide.

A neighbor from across the street was watching me. He pulled out his phone and slunk inside his house. Felt like everyone was eyeing me through their closed, dark windows. They probably were. 

No. Not probably.

I ran to City Park, school bag bouncing on my back. My eyes so full of tears, everything was a blur. Got to the trail, followed it until the forest was tight around me. I rushed off the trail and into the woods, phoned mother. “They stole father and brother.”

She cursed with old words through gritted teeth and said, “Stay hidden in the woods. I’ll come when it’s darkest. Empty your bag of any papers with your name on it. Tear the papers, smash your phone with a rock. Throw everything in the river. Listen for my whistle and come to me. Anybody finds you, run deeper into the forest. If they have dogs, cross the river, run north until you can’t run anymore. Cross the river back and hustle to the trail, but only as near as you can hear my whistle. Stay hid in the woods. Say it back to me.” 

I said it back, crying the whole time. And then, to the river I did it all. Smashed my phone, tore the papers—drowned them in the river. All but this journal of mine. I just couldn’t. I tried. Held it over the sloshing gray waters, but it hit me—if I lose this journal, I lose myself. I stowed it in my school bag and ran back to this giant tree to wait for mother’s whistle.

Only now stopped shaking enough to write this down. 

Please night, come soon. I’m so hungry.

Goodbye

Friends, I will miss giggling with you at lunch. Teachers, I will miss learning from you. Thank you for all you taught me and being kind. Dog that barks at me as I pass your yard after school, even though you pretended not to, I know you liked me by the way you watched me as I smiled at your big eyes and you’d go quiet, your ropey tail wagging wide and fast. Doctor, when I was so sick, you weren’t supposed to give me medicine but you did, thank you for being brave. Itty bitty bird, who fluttered into the bush near my bedroom window at dawn, I will miss singing with you. And, the saddest goodbye, to father and brother. I hope you escape to woods where you can hide and we find each other.

It’s night now. Please mother, whistle. I’m so tired. 

Someone’s near.

Red Mask

I knew it was one of them by the pshhhh of his radio. He left the trail and entered the woods, toward me. His boots crunched through the quiet night.

I climbed the giant tree, high as it would hold me. Straddling a wide thick branch, I hugged the giant tree tight. Made myself still and small as I could. Followed him with my eyes. Couldn’t stop my breath from huffing so I held it, like mother taught me when we fled second country. 

“Neighbor reported her.” His voice was heavy and hard. Said more I didn’t understand—strings of numbers mixed with words and switched off his radio. 

More crunching and closer. He’d found my tracks. 

I prayed to Cosmos. Prayed to become invisible. Prayed to blend into the tree. Prayed for mother to come.

Masked man’s shape was big, wore their splotchy uniform and red mask. 

A few more crunches and he was beneath me. He found my steps to the river and pulled his big gun. 

He wasn’t going to capture me. Was going to shoot me and leave me to be eaten by these woods. 

When mother comes and whistles and I don’t answer, she’ll search. Maybe she’ll find my body. But, if she doesn’t and dawn nears, she’ll hide until the next night and the next, until she finds me or she wastes away. Until they steal her. 

I’m all that’s left to mother, unless father and brother escape. But they won’t. It hurts so much, to write it. To think it. To know it, but father and brother are probably dead. That’s what the masked brothers do. Shoot you and dump you where you will be eaten or toss you in one of their ditches, clouded with flies. Dump and dump and dump until there’s enough stolen bodies to bury. And until there’s enough to bury and the wind blows, the rotting smell cracks you open. 

I thought. I decided. I slid down the tree. Watched masked man’s shape shrink into the dark, toward the river. 

I will stow my school bag in the tree’s massive sprawl of roots. Pull off my boots so my steps will be silent as these woods. Follow masked man’s shape. I will recite what brother taught me when we fled third country. Recite it like a silent prayer over and over all the way to the river. 

You are dead now. You are stone.

Glad there’s no moon. Night will hide me.

River

Night was its deepest when masked man reached the river’s edge. 

I stopped within a couple of dozen steps and hid behind a tree. 

He looked up and down the far bank, the waters dark shape swooshing to wherever it’s free to roam. 

From behind him, I spotted the best rock—loosed from the ground and big enough but not so big I couldn’t swing it over my head. 

Masked man hunkered at the bottom of the river’s bank. The slope would even our heights. Just needed to be careful of my steps.

Masked man was about to cross the river. I was about to grab the rock and smash it into the back of his head. All of that was about to happen, but then, it didn’t. 

Morrígna

Masked man stopped, tensed, crouched down and, with a two-fisted grip, pointed his big gun across the river, hands shaking. 

Why are his hands shaking? 

It was like his big gun had become too heavy for him.  

I stilled. I tensed, squatted and squinted to where masked man pointed his big gun. 

Silence spread all around, all sound sucked out of the whole of the forest except for the river’s whisper, a slim creaking of trees and then, from beyond the river, within the woods—

—a faint flapping of wings.

—and a padding of paws crunching over leaves covering the forest floor. 

On the far side of the river, the trees looked like straight dark marks with darker dark in between. From that darker dark an enormous crow shot out, swooped, and hovered over masked man, who let loose a single gasping AH! Not startled but like he’d woke from a nightmare. Or into one. 

He bent his head down to the floor of the forest and fell to both knees as though all the strength in his legs was sucked out of him. 

I clenched my hiding tree a notch tighter.

Crow flitted off to my right and vanished into the dark of the woods. 

From the darker dark, between the trees, a grey wolf loped out, looked up and down the river, sat on their haunches, lolled their head back and let loose a howl that pounded against the trees and shook the forest floor. 

Masked man sobbed, his back heaving in shudders. 

My legs lost their will and I plopped down on my backside, hugging the tree so hard, its bark bit into my arms, hands, and cheek. My chest juttered with jagged breaths, a rabbit being swallowed slow by a snake. 

Across the river, from the darker dark between the trees a shape emerged and floated toward masked man. An electric tingle crept over the whole of me. 

Shape was tall as a basketball hoop. A hood hung over their moon-pale face, thin nose and lips, pursed in a frown. Out of the hood, blood-red eyes glowed. Strands of long dark hair spiraled to their knees. They wore a thick and heavy dark green gown, embroidered with gold swirls and piping, like grandma’s couch in home country.  

I felt the shape was a woman. 

As she crossed the river, her steps made no sound. No crunch. No splash. 

But, hunched and rocking over his knees, masked man made a sound. A roaring groan—Ohhhh. From deep in his guts. His body tensed and he shook so fast, he became a blur, whimpering as the red-eyed woman neared.

She stopped, towering over him. Her mouth opened and out came a breathy, ahhhhhh. An eerie lullaby, soaring soft through the woods. 

I found my breath. The tightness in me fell away.

Masked man’s shoulders relaxed. Arms dropped. Hands limp, his big gun fell to his side. He swayed, glued to the green-gowned woman’s blood-red gaze. She reached out her bone-white palm to masked man. He was gibbering now. 

Wings flapped behind me. Soft breath on my neck. I froze, unable to turn. A hand touched my shoulder, gentle, but still I startled and gasped. A second tall shape knelt in front of me, a woman, same green hooded dress, a sister to the other, but Black as night, round cheeked and brown-eyed. She held out a finger to her full and brown lips. Shhhhh. She closed her eyes and nodded for me to do the same. 

All of me was shaking, but I shut my eyes, wondering if I’d ever open them again. 

A blaring flash of light. Even through my lids I could see the brightness, like facing the sun. 

Masked man screamed. 

A deep boom of sustained thunder pounded out overhead.

I went stiff. 

Masked man’s breath shook hard and fast, as though he’d come up for air after a long, breathless time. A crackling, like breaking dry sticks for a fire, echoed through the woods. 

My hands shook against the rough bark of the tree.

Masked man went silent.

The bright faded from my closed eyes and darkness returned along with its quiet, splintered only by the sloshing river. 

Another pat on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and shuddered.

Masked man stood over me. He eyed me over his red mask, pulled down the mask, smiled, and kneeled. Big gun, holstered.

Eye to eye, I stared at him, fists balled. I thought of the rock. Of running. 

He offered his hand. 

A trap to catch mother. 

I shook my head and took a step back.

The red-eyed woman stood behind him, and next to her—the brown-eyed sister and now a third woman, same as the other two but blue-eyed with deep brown skin, her cheek bones more severe. 

The red-eyed sister stared deep into my eyes. 

A mix of awe and terror swept through me.

Her voice a soft echo, like it was the wind rustling through the woods, she said, “You can trust him now. He will protect you and yours. I’ve returned him to who he was meant to be.”

She stepped to me and hovered her ghost white hand over my head. 

A pulsing rose in me. My heart became a drum. My blood a roar. My head spun. 

As though struck, she leaned her head back and howled so loud the whole of the forest shuddered. She looked down on me with her blood-red eyes, blood-red tears streaming down her pale as death cheeks. 

I stopped breathing.

Leaning over me, she whispered my name, and right. She smiled, grim. “For your caring to those of your kind, tears for those wronged, and your courage—you earned this—our gift to you. Wield your power and wisely, sister.”

A wave of calm whooshed through me.

In turn, each sister placed a hand on my head, stepped back, and lifted, slow, into the dark. I lost myself for a time watching them rise as the three sisters merged into one, and melted into the night sky. I wished so hard to lift into the sky with them. Merge with them. Melt into the dark with them.

I worked to gather myself. Rubbed my face. Shook my head. Studied the leaf covered ground.

Settled, I glanced at the man, shrugged and said, “You can come with me, if you want.” I turned and walked toward the trail. 

He followed me back to the giant tree. I pulled my boots over my muddy socks and shouldered my school bag. We sat against the tree’s trunk to wait for mother’s whistle. 

He touched his chest and said his name. Asked for mine. I told him. He said it and right. I plucked a black feather from his hair.

Fantasy

But none of that happened. Of course none of that happened here in fourth country, in this forest at the center of the city. I wish it did. That’s why I wrote my fantasy, so I wouldn’t have to write what did happen. 

I wish my fantasy were real. Wish I could make it real. Believe hard enough, imagine hard enough, write well enough for it to become real. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have written it down. Maybe writing the words dispelled the power in my fantasy. I should’ve whispered it to the wind and trees and river. 

I’ve stopped shaking but my pinky is throbbing and as plump as my thumb, bashed it between the rock and masked man’s head on the fourth or fifth smash, as I wailed and sobbed. 

Mor’anai 

Dawn is near. Mother never whistled. She too is stolen from me. From this world. Nothing else would ever keep her from finding me.

Soon, the masked man’s brothers will come to erase me. These words. My name. All that I am. Swept from this broken, selfish world. Swallowed whole by these woods. 

But why did I learn of the three sisters, the Morrígna, on this day of all days? As Grandma would say, “Weave the warp and weft of what you learn and experience. There, you find the pattern and there, meaning.”

I know the Morrígna aren’t real. But there’s power in their fantasy.

I could make them real, in me. Be fierce like them. Fight. Be free. 

Why not? What else is left to me? What options? 

The masked brothers and their cruelty have released me in these woods. Given me freedom to be fierce and fight.

Yes. I will learn these thick woods, ranging far. Come to know them as I know myself. Drink from the river. Forage. Make a home in the giant tree. Await the masked brothers. Avenge father, brother, mother and all the innocents the cruel masked brothers stole. I will end the masked brothers and their hideous works. 

Yes. I will become myth and legend. Feared. 

I will become more than I am. More-than-I-am.

Yes. I drown my name. I name myself anew. Christened by my kindness and courage. Knowing what is right. What it is to be human. I will grace those who are kind and know what it is to be human. And those who don’t, my wrath will reign down upon them until they are dust. 

Yes.

I am become Mor’anai, Phantom Queen of City Forest, Avenger of the Stolen.