Growing Up Scafir

“Margaret, please calm down.”

She was panicking, understandably. Morgan tossed a detached body part off into the grass. He felt his head. The heavy bleeding was, best he could tell, not serious. It was a regular gash, no skull fracture. This did not change the detached senesation of his head bobbing in water. He waited out her panic, then heard a new scream. It sounded like Karen, from the higher, less controlled register. Nicole's squeal joined in. This was now getting out of hand.

“The screaming is all properly dramatic but could someone get medical help before I pass out?”

Nicole stopped screaming. A non-English expletive rang out. Well, Michael must have arrived. With a well-placed kick, Michael swept Morgan onto his back and quickly explained that his 'innards' were visible. That would explain the horrified reactions.

“It looks worse than it hurts,” he explained. He had forgotten the sword swipe to his abdomen. Compared to the head blow, it was minor. Correction, it felt minor.

“W-what happened?”

Morgan's eyes rolled dazedly. “Someone,” he said calmly, “brought a sword to a fist fight.”

“Swords, who uses swords?”

“I do,” Michael answered reflexively. It took half a second before he realized he shouldn't have said it out loud.

“Since when?”

“I'm a sabre fencer... was a sabre fencer.” He tried to cant as softly as possible, but couldn't speak clearly enough at whisper level. He sighed and started over again speaking clearly and audibly. Questions came at him, but he ignored them and let the cantation flow. The wound stopped seeping and closed somewhat. “So...” Michael perfunctorily asked, “did your mission go south?”

“No, I did not anticipate a mob afterwards.”

Nicole sought out her uncle as he was lying in the infirmiry. She came in and quietly stared at him. His head tilted in her direction. “Yes, child?”

“It's Nicole, Uncle Morgan.”

The corners of Morgan's lips crept upward. “Good day, Nicole.”

“May I ask you something?”

Morgan smiled more. “You may always ask. I may, however, decline to answer.”

“Why do you get beat up so much?”

Morgan thought for a moment. “Are we alone?”

Nicole looked around. “Yes.”

“Come sit next to me.”

“I'm too big for that.”

Kindly, he said, “Nonsense. Sit.”

She was a young woman now and took up more space than he expected. He didn't mind. “Nicole, I am an assassin, a professional killer. I spend a lot of time offworld doing mercenary activities. Very often, the people I go after have trained protectors or fight well themselves. Sometimes, I am contracted to fight in wars as a champion. I get hurt a lot as a matter of course.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I had no choice in the matter. The path was chosen for me as a young child and I have followed it since.”

“But why? Dad doesn't do this, does he?”

Morgan laughed, then winced. “No, he does not. He does like to brawl, but that is far different. He is a valuable person, and very powerful. He has been protected and guided all his life to be a forthright, and upright, individual.”

“How does that work? You're blind. You can't fire a sniper rifle.”

“You mean, I can't aim a sniper rifle. Mainly, I do not shoot my targets. Out there, unlike here, assassinations are very personal. Whoever orders the killing very often wants their target to know who is responsible for their death. Sometimes, they want the execution done in a public place, so others know to fear them, as well. I have to get close to my targets and many fight back.”

“Don't you worry about dying?”

“No, that is one worry I do not have.”

“I guess Dad knows you do this?”

“Yes, your father has known a long time and I think you are now old enough to know, too.”

“You seem like such a nice person.”

“I am a nice person to you and to those who are close to me, but I am not a good person, and you are old enough to know that, too.”

“Is there anything else I'm old enough to know?”

“I am your father's sworn protector. It runs deep in my blood, part of our fey heritage as twins. It is also enhanced by a sworn oath. By extension, I will protect all those who are dear to him. Anyone who hurts him mentally or physically, will know my wrath. From beyond the grave, if necessary.”

Morgan's eyelids slowly closed. His sleep made him seem harmless.