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Chapter 8 - No Turning Back

Early Morning, October 25th, 2007 - Dreamscape

Dewdrops dusted the ground as I found myself standing in the open bogland of my deepest dreams. My feet were wrapped in a pair of archaic boots made out of cow-leather. They were held in place by straps woven over my lower legs in a cross-stitch form. Unlike the last time I visited my dreamscape, I didn't wear a pair of trousers. Instead, I wore a leine tunic, along beautifully woven wool tunic all the way to just below my knees. At my waist, a thick belt cinched around my thinned waist. Long red locks fell over my shoulders as I twirled in the slowly brightening day of my dream.

I was a girl fully, not just an idea, but deep down in the deepest part of my soul, I knew it to be true. At full speed, I sped across the uneven ground and felt my body being unearthly nimble. Of course, this was not the real world, I was easily altering the logic of my own realm. Fleet of the foot was the best way to describe how I felt as I darted across the ground and leaped from rock to rock when I came to the bogs themselves. The surface of the bog was almost the same as the moss and grass-covered land around. I nearly slipped at one point and it was there I saw the possible watery grave beneath.

It's hard to describe how I felt as my hair seemed to lift in the air as I went and felt the wind whistling in my ears. Finally, after one more jump, I landed near the crystal clear waters of Morgan's domain. The large standing stones still remained and circled the water. Near the ground, I could see a fire pit and a boiling iron kettle suspended over the flames. The air smelled of tea and I heard a rustling behind me. I turned around to face Morgan as she came into view. Unlike before she wasn't wearing a dress, and her hair wasn't flowing free like mine. As always she towered over me, her green eyes were half-closed as she licked her lips deep in concentration.

"Morgan?" I asked her as she walked past me and I saw how carefully she'd plaited her hair. It reminded me of pictures I'd seen in a Celtic goddess calendar. Her hair was braided and tightened on both sides leaving a long braid down the center of her head. Over both eyes were blue lines curving then under each eye and along her cheekbones. Both cheeks were covered in a blue spiral as I noticed more paint along her neck and her exposed arms. She wore a leather armor over her chest, and a pair of trousers on her legs. The armor looked to be studded with pieces of metal and as she began to check on the boiling water I noticed a sword hanging from a belt on her hip.

"Morgan, speak to me!" I snapped. Ever since the incident with the jail, she'd been quiet. Only a day and not a word from her and finally I meet her in the dream and she was different. I could feel a silent roiling emotion shifting as a miasma around her. My spirit was going to tell me what was going on or I would be without a thing to do.

"It is my fault Sinead is dead," were the words she said snapping her head to face me. The muscles of her body went taut like a leopard coiling to strike. I didn't take a step back or react. This was my spirit, my bonded companion, and I would not let fear hold me back again.

"Tell me why!" I declared and I stepped closer to her.

Morgan easily had two feet on me in her paranormal height, but as I drew closer, she looked so small to me. Her rage was so clear, but it wasn't directed at her enemies.

"Whoever killed her wanted me dead, and instead of dying with Sinead, I am still here!" she growled before falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around herself.

"I don't know how spirits die Morgan, but you can't blame yourself for whatever killed Sinead," I walked over toward her and I leaned against her back.

"I can't promise you won't die either." Her words were clear and for just a small second I feared whatever hunted for Sinead would come for me. Yet, as I leaned against Morgan's back a small thought came to me.

"I beat back and nearly killed my attackers, Morgan," I said slowly. "It was your strength and determination which helped me survive the night. It was you who helped me become the woman you see before you."

I felt her shift as she turned and her arms brought me to face her properly. A small stream of tears filled my spirit's eyes as she bit her lip and her chin tightened. Suddenly, as a flame lit on a kerosene lamp I could feel her anger burn away the chaff of the depression. Self-doubt was shoved aside for something rawer, and far sharper.

"Will you help me find her killer?" she asked me.

"I'm not sure I can do that right now," I replied. Her green eyes bore into me.

"I don't expect you too lass," her voice no longer.

If I ever expected to see the 'Morrígan' in her terrible beauty I could see it in her. Morgan's face contorted as she stepped away from me and drew a knife I'd missed on the opposite of her sword. She threw it at the spiral etched stone and the knife embedded itself. A low keen erupted from her throat as she slowly quieted herself.

"Okay," I replied stock still and confused by her display. This was more braveheart than I expected, but I was willing to roll with the punches.

"I'm going to find the despicable thing who murdered Sinead, and still threatens you." Her low voice sent a chill down my spine as I saw her eyes burning with rage.

Suddenly, an image flashed across my vision. A black-haired woman, her face cowled by a hood pulled tight around her head. The lower bottom of her face was all I saw was her mouth moving quietly speaking out an alien mantra. The mirror, I had seen her in the mirror when Brad assaulted me. Shaking I waved to get Morgan's attention, and as she finished her display she quieted. Lean forward she knelt before me and waited for me to explain.

"There was a woman in the mirror when I was attacked by Brad. I saw her for barely a second, but I was sure she was there," I relayed it all to Morgan. Her face got a look as her eyes stared off into space.

"That helps greatly my heart," she said to me and rose to her feet. Walking over to retrieve the dagger she sheathed it deftly. I just stood there, watching the display as I could feel her rage being linked to mine. The defiance to never let someone victimize me or her ever again.

"Morgan...I need to learn how to defend myself," I said. Not the berserk kicking and punching I did earlier to Finkbonner and his lackeys. No, I needed to learn how to use my newfound strength. As a girl, I knew I was a target for others, and I didn't want to feel as terrified as I did that day again.

"I can't promise no one will ever hurt you again lass," Morgan relented, "but, if you speak with your parents for the need for proper training I am sure they and this friend of theirs, Jameson, will know what to do."

"I understand." It was kind of all I could say. Morgan's arrival and my changes shifted my life radically, and while I was thankful for my new body I didn't want to think there weren't strings attached. The very raw emotion I witnessed from her told me that whoever killed her last host, she hadn't seen it coming. It terrified me to my bones.

"I can promise you my strength, my unrelenting defiance, and my support in the trials to come." Her words eased my worry and scattered my fear for now. She rose and offered me her hand. I took it in mine and we shook in agreement.

Early Morning, October 27th, 2007 - Whatcom Alliance Headquarters

When my parents told me that my Powers Test was going to be changed to Saturday I didn't imagine they'd wake me up at the ass crack of dawn to catch the five-forty AM ferry to the mainland. Mom had me dress in a pair of leggings and a tank top for the day. We'd gone bra and clothes shopping the day before on account of my slightly growing assets. Laying down in the back of the van my parents drove all I could do was try to sleep on the way to the Whatcom Alliance Headquarters. Friday was a day of self-care as after the clothes shopping mom took me home to rest for the night. Whatever changes had begun during my time in holding continued on till Saturday morning.

A glimmer of my dream with Morgan remained with me as I stared at the rolling hills and countryside of Whatcom County. Farms surrounded the reservation and as we sped past the new casino I began to think about my new life. After leaving the police department on Thursday I told mom I wasn't ever going back to that shithole of a school. No matter what Mister Jameson said, there was no way one little incident would fix the year of bullying they'd put me through. My middle school went out of its way to hire teachers who seemed bent on tossing me under the bus for minor problems, and it was only two good instructors back in elementary who saved whatever feelings I had for the Ferndale School District as a whole.

No, mom and dad were pretty evident that I was not going back, not after my sexual assault by fellow students. Mom went full rage mode and I could hear her growling death threats to the boys on our way home that evening. Dad as soon as I woke up after a nap that evening passed me a bit of whiskey in a shot glass.

"You need this Grainne," he said before I sipped the stuff. It made me cough with the burning flavor, but I sipped it and for a bit, it numbed out the stress of the day at least for a little while. I was no stranger to altered states of mind since the school district had pushed for me to be diagnosed as ADHD as a kid. Even as I watched the countryside rolling by from the window of the car it was hard for me to focus on what my parents said. Ritalin did little for me and the other pills we tried caused my chest to fill with agonizing pressure.

We tried everything and finally my parents kind of moved on. Thinking back on it, I realize now that a lot of my repressed feelings of who I was likely didn't manifest in the best way to those seeing me from the outside. I ran a hand through my long hair nervously and licked my lips. The drive to the Headquarters of the Alliance took about fifteen minutes, but it dragged for me.

The building was utilitarian in appearance. Three stories tall, and made out of brick and mortar. An exterior with regular windows every few feet. I could see the office in the small attached lobby. A larger steel building which I guessed was the training center loomed behind it. There was a ramp and a set of cemented stairs leading up to the lobby. Parking in a small parking lot adjacent to the lobby I stared at the simplicity of the building. A small area surrounded by tall softwood trees and wetland was where they built the place. Mom told me it was time to go and I stepped out of the door to feel the cool kiss of a late October morning.

The lobby itself was a smaller block one floor tall and perhaps, from what I surmised, was about forty feet wide. At the top read the words "The Whatcom Alliance". As I walked closer I saw more on the doors "Officially Supported by the United States Department of Paranormal Affairs". It felt nice to finally see the home of the people who helped me out of clutches of the MCO. The very thought of Wilks’ seething hateful eyes made me shiver. His visage was banished from my thoughts as I pushed aside the door and was the first to enter. The lobby was pretty general, a few seats and a wrap-around receptionist desk that looked to double as a dispatch office.

A woman was typing away in front of a large flat-screen monitor. My parents walked up to speak with her as I remained back towards the door. I was soon waved over as the woman handed my parents a small list of what I would be doing for the day. Shooting a glance at her and then to the parental units I felt my anxiety growing. I could only imagine what lay in store for me.

Noon, October 27th, 2007 - Whatcom Alliance Headquarters

If there was one saving grace about the tests, it was that they let me watch old episodes of Xena: Warrior Princess. Lucy Lawless’s figure was always something I dreamed of. A woman who was strong and sexy combined into one fantastic bundle of skill and knowledge. I was busy doing a lifting test as I was playing back one of my favorite episodes in the back of my head. I wasn't sure which one it was. Most of the Xena episodes were easy to run together, and I had to run through my memory to barely remember the name. My train of thought was completely distorted and it was only the immediate snap of Sophia's mother, Corinne which drew me back to reality.

"HEY LOOK!" she barked and pointed at how my hands were slipping.

"Listen!" I replied and Sophia who was hovering by her mother face palmed immediately.

"Okay, what?" Corinne eyed her daughter and Sophia mumbled, "It's a gamer thing."

"Fine - fine, just lift the damn bar," the Energizer ordered and so I did. Currently, she had set the deadlift at about two hundred pounds and I was easily pulling it up. My tester directed me to stop and she changed the weight again before I found myself lifting closer to four hundred pounds. Again, I was able to lift it upward, but I could feel strain setting into my muscles. I placed the bar down as Corinne jotted down a series of notes. I eyed Sophia who mouthed "I know your pain,'' to me. Another few weights moved on the barbell and I eyed Corinne. This was the moment in the Xena episodes she'd be doing one of her ululating cries and do a sky kick. Do you know the one with really obvious support harness and string work?

"This is boring, and barely a challenge." Morgan huffed in my mind's eye. We'd been communicating more during the day, and I could feel she was getting more in tune with me as her host. I felt an ethereal shift across my body as Corinne set the weights one more time and I reached forward. Sophia leaned forward and corrected my posture before I began to lift properly with my legs and not my back. I eyed the weights, it was about five hundred twenty-five pounds, and I was slowly able to push my limits. It took a few more tries, but finally I brought it up to chest level as I thrust my hips forward.

"Okay, that would rate you as an Exemplar Three," she said and looked up from the notes. From my short interactions with Corinne I liked her a lot. She reminded me a bit of Sophia in her outward snark and sarcasm. Since I came from a family of rage-induced Swedish Irish women it wasn't at all that difficult for me to understand. Sloan would have a field day with SwiftWing, and I was a little sad that we left her back at the house this time.

They had me repeat the process with a few different machines. First, I was asked to bench press a few hundred pounds and found I was about the same limit, if not a little bit closer to six hundred pounds. Second, Corinne had me run on a treadmill and steadily she increased the speed and the incline of the machine. By the end I worked up a healthy sweat and I could feel the newfound clarity my body gave me. Morgan was offering small commentary in the back of my mind.

"Not bad, this isn't any more difficult than the Defense Forces training Sinead went through."

It was interesting that a slumbering spirit did seem to absorb the memory of her hosts. Personally, I had no access so I had to hear it a second person from Morgan's point of view. No different than a friend relaying what they saw or heard someone else do.

An hour later they brought me into a weird little library room. A singular round table was situated in the middle of the room with a skylight above. Upon entering, I was asked to take off my shoes and I shrugged in response. Complying with their request wasn't hard since I had a few Asian cousins making this far from weird to me. I padded barefoot across the carpeted floor and watched as Sophia followed in after her grandfather. I was a little surprised to see him in his full RavenWIng costume including the body armor. Each piece of armor fit on his legs, chest and his arms. It was a light impact type I'd heard people comment about on a few forums I scanned when I first did a little research on superhero uniforms.

"Ah, good to see you, Miss O'Callaghan, I have a few documents for you and your parents," he declared cheerfully. Documents? And my eyes immediately shot to his infamous briefcase which he carried with him.

"Did you file the paperwork for her name change?" my mom asked. I blinked, a name change? That was a tad quick. He opened up and placed a copy of the court order including a court time next week. A lump formed in my throat as I saw the full name of "Gráinne Róisín O'Callaghan" on the document. Immediately, I grabbed both my parents in a tight hug as I felt a sob shudder through my body. Upon releasing them I gave Gerald a hug hard enough that he actually asked me politely to let go. Tears blurred my vision as I picked up the documentation and noted the court date on it.

"Next week? How?" I asked. I knew a little on courts, just enough from years of watching Law & Order in that judges didn't have open slots that easily on their dockets.

"We called in a favor with the Municipal Courthouse, and request we expedite your application," Gerald told us all.

"Judge MacDonald owed me for saving his son on an incident just out to sea years ago," said a new voice. I turned to face a man I had only heard of, but now was finally meeting, Cornelius Holbrook, the leader of the Whatcom Alliance. Cornelius was an aging black man with short hair, and a small mustache graced his upper lip. I could tell by the ripple of muscle underneath his shirt that this was a man dedicated to his craft, and a few scars poked out along his hands. He was dressed in a blue button-down collared shirt and a pair of black jeans.

"You're...OGUN!" I said as the man smiled at me, "Yes...or as I was in the 80s, Crown Justice."

This man was a living legend! There was manga in Japan based on his armored visage and I was now just feeling my internal geek starting to squee at his presence. I could see Sophia visibly rolled her eyes as my nerdom flared for all to see.

"Thank you mister Holbrook," my father said as he shook the man's hand. I could barely contain myself as I was asked a few questions by the man himself. Cornelius wanted to know more about my experience at the school and in between Gerald listed off his plans for a lawsuit. We finished about ten minutes later and pulled apart for a small lunch so I could regain my energy.

As I was leaving the small room Gerald asked me and Sophia to stay behind. He set down his briefcase and like what seemed to be a small amethyst gem onto the table. Instantly upon seeing the shiny purple thing, my attention was officially fixated on the spot. Did I mention purple was my favorite color? It was the color of royalty and empresses so, of course, I adored it.

"Gráinne," Gerald said and drew my attention back to his face. I peered at him as my hands fell to my hips and I cocked one to the right. Damn, I was getting feminine posture down!

"All I want you to do is hold the gem," he pointed to the Amethyst and I picked up the piece of quartz in my hand. A small pulling sensation flowed down from my arm up into my chest. I winced a little as the gem seemed to glow in the palm of my hand. There was a slightly painful sensation aching in my fingers.

"Fascinating," he gestured for me to put the gem down and I shuddered. A bit of myself felt like it was being pulled into that thing.

"It's a container of essence, you just stored some in it." I blinked for a moment as I started to wonder what the hell essence was. "Magic lass, it's the energy used in spells."

It was nice I had a magical spirit to explain everything. Just like a little fairy from one of my favorite games.

"Never compare me to that floating ball of irritation - again. Or I'll make you bald."

Okay, never refer to Morgan as Navi ever again.

Early Afternoon, October 27th, 2007 - Whatcom Alliance Headquarters

"By the Gods this is good," I exclaimed as I dug into a massive plate of corned beef and roasted potatoes. After working away for the last few hours I was already craving calories to return my lost energy. Not only had they tested my ability to collect essence there were the tests on a few motions to see my flexibility. Walking a balancing beam wasn't really that hard and having me run around a track to see my full-on sprinting speed just added to the soaking level of my clothes. After showering in a YMCA-styled women's locker roo`-m I was cleaned up and in a pair of jeans and a tank top. It felt nice to be out of my sports bra and back into my preferred boy shorts.

The food served at the Headquarters was better than passable and as I tore into the corned beef I was licking my fingers as a bit of juice came off one piece of meat. After my second plate, I was finally satisfied and gave an embarrassed smile to both of my parents. My dad was shaking his head as my mom said to him, "She'll eat us out of house and home."

We were seated at a small table located in the lounge of the building. Nearby through a pair of swinging restaurant doors was a professional-grade kitchen set up by a member of the Alliance. Across from me, my parents were busy talking about something with Gerald Jameson. Beside me sat Sophia who was enjoying a nice hot cup of peppermint tea which she informed me she needed to help "calm her nerves".

For myself, a cup of coffee, I needed the stuff to function on some levels and definitely with tons of cream in it. The normally bitter taste of coffee always made me feel sick to my stomach. Didn't help with that mess with the mind-controlling Starbucks coffee thanks to some asshole villain in Seattle earlier this year. This was cup number two and I could already tell my mom wasn’t pleased with the increase of my vivid hyperness. I wanted to jump to my feet and start singing loudly to anyone who saw me. The thought came to me about how well I could hold a tune? Did I have an increased lung capacity? More ideas raced through my mind as Gerald finished explaining something to my parents.

There was a lot going on I wasn't currently in on. Both mom and dad had been in long phone calls the day before. Not to mention there was that notary work my dad spent time going over before I woke up. I only even knew about it because of his papers left on our dining room table. What was going on? For a few seconds, I let my mind wander long enough to what I'd experienced. This was most definitely the first of perhaps more Powers Tests. Being a mutant required I have a Mutant ID and it was likely one of the reasons my parents were talking at length.

But that left the issue of my schooling. Were they thinking of homeschooling me? I mean, that would make some sense, and I could easily get training here with the Alliance in their HQ. What it didn't explain was what I swore was a brochure in my mom’s hands as we drove in that morning. It created only more questions for me to consider.

Sophia was clearly done eating and as she finished her last bite she sipped a bit more of her tea. Me, I downed the last of my coffee before using a napkin to dab my lips clean. It was nice to not wear any makeup today though I was definitely hyped for learning the ancient secrets of how women changed their skins. A moment later I was done with my food as well and pushed the plate aside. Satisfied and full, I couldn't eat another bite! My eyes wandered around the lounge and my eyes landed on a pinboard located near the entrance.

In my boredom, I decided to just see what was on the notice board in question. Off the top of my head, I was able to make out a piece of paper about someone offering lawn work. A small flier about a missing dog and a second flier about an upcoming event for a local performer. I couldn't read everything, but I was still able to make out the general wording if it was big enough. After what seemed like a minute I got up to get a better look at one particular notice that caught my attention. It reminded me of something I'd seen before and as I drew closer, I finally saw the wording.

What was the Whateley Academy? Reaching out I removed the tack holding the brochure in place and opened it up so I could read its contents. The front folded page of the brochure depicted a picture from someplace called the Presidential Mountains. The School itself was in New Hampshire. As I read further it was then I recognized it as the very same one my mom had been holding on the drive in that morning. I tacked the piece of paper back onto the pinboard before turning around and brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face. Why was my mom reading about a school all the way across the country in New England?

Were they planning on sending me to boarding school?

I guess I'd have to wait to find out as upon returning to the board I could see both my parents and Gerald Jameson were waiting. Gerald appeared to have a clipboard like the one Corinne Jameson had been writing notes on from earlier. There was also a small piece of paper clipped to the top of it.

"Ah, so," dad said as he gestured me to take a seat.

"Alright, honey," mom began as she glanced at my father for a moment.

"You aren't sending me back to Ferndale are you?" I asked slowly just wanting to break the ice. There was no way I was going back to that shithole school.

"No," mom replied with a slightly shocked expression on her face.

"Okay," I said and was about to ask before my father said, "We've been discussing it and decided to ask Gerald a bit about where his daughter studied for High School."

"Mom went to Bellingham, didn't she?" Sophia asked. That was what her mother told her roughly when she was younger, and it was where Corinne had met her father.

"No," Gerald said and Corinne walked through the door dressed in what appeared to work out gear. A pair of black leggings and a loose razor-back blue tank.

"Oh, we telling them about Whateley finally?" Corinne asked.

"Yup," Gerald sighed as he furrowed his brow at his daughter's lax question.

"Okay," Sophia said and beat me to the punch, "I can see you affording to send me to a boarding school. Thanks for sending me away by the way." The girl crossed her arms across her chest and turned her head to look away in defiance of the adults.

"Actually," my dad spoke up, "we can afford to send Gráinne to a school which your mother has told us specializes in preparing young mutants for their future."

"Wait what? An honest to goodness Xavier school?" I chirped as I sat on the edge of my seat. This wasn't sound so bad.

"Yes and no," Gerald added as he placed his hands on the table. "Whateley is important as it's neutral ground, a place where you two can learn how to control your powers, and also get above-average education."

"Neutral ground, what you are saying-" Sophia said and she stopped as her mom nodded.

"Villains and Superheros do not break the neutrality, it's a seriously safe place, safer than Ferndale and it’s more than equipped to help you with your rage problems," Corinne informed me. I wanted to look away as she reminded me of my issue, but instead, I inhaled slowly and maintained eye contact with her.

Anxiety would not rule me for this conversation. Well, not for now.

"Remember lass, they want to do this for your own good. Don't get angry, think about it from their shoes." Morgan my ever prominent Jiminy Cricket-styled conscience. "Don't compare me to a Disney cartoon bug, ever again." Who can also read my thoughts. I really need to remember that my body had two passengers now.

"Is it better than Ferndale?" I asked carefully.

"Yes, and no," Corinne replied. "If you stay on the good side of most of the faculty they'll have your back. But there are bullies, and so it's best to learn how to defend yourself."

That didn't help at all. I blinked sadly at the idea, but it did sound better than what I had experienced. Slowly, I straightened up in my seat as I bit my lip. What other options do I have? I could go to Bellingham High School and make my parents drive me every day till next year when I could earn my own license. Truth be told, I was terrified of being far away from my family, and not being near them. I was tight with my family on a surreal level. Throughout my recent change, my parents had been nothing but supportive. There was no lying, my change was adding more financial burdens to them and honestly, I wasn't sure what else lay in store for me.

I threw a kid into a locker and almost killed him. Let's be realistic, I can deadlift a few hundred pounds without too much effort. From what I saw I was most definitely a threat without training. More than enough superhero movies and anime taught me that. There was no way I was going to be the fool who didn't accept an offer for hard-won training from a mysterious sensei. At least I wouldn't have to sit forlornly under a waterfall so I could learn the true way of the warrior. Or least, I didn't think this 'boarding school' would be one of the few places.

So I was going the Harry Potter route minus the obvious child abuse. I could only hope my school headmaster wasn't an eccentric with a penchant for letting underage children fight horrors of the deep.

"How would you guys pay for something like this?" I asked slowly.

"Well, there goes your college fund," my dad smiled.

"Really?" I asked.

"No," mom said and gave my dad a mock slap on the shoulder, "We've been talking to Gerald about a possible scholarship, and according to Corinne there are work-study options on campus."

"Ah," I gave a small nod to affirm everything.

"I'm going there without a choice isn’t I," Sophia finally spoke up.

"Yes, most definitely." Corinne gave a cocky smile showing there was absolutely no arguing the point.

"Am I going to do work-study?" she asked innocently with her mother.

"No, but, I would suggest it, I did and helped build connections I'm using now," Corinne shrugged.

All the cards were on the table, and I was facing a tough no brainer situation. This was going to place me in the stereotypical role of the working student. Okay, not like my parents didn't make me work for things in the past. There were the yearly splitting and chopping of wood. Helping with church functions as I grew up. As the old saying goes - this wasn't going to be my first rodeo of hard work.

"I'll do it," I said, "what do I have to do to get in?"

"We'll need to get your name changed and then you'll need to pick a codename for your temporary MID," Gerald informed me and I gave a nod.

Picking a codename? Okay, that couldn't be too hard? I just had to make sure none of it has been trademarked, copywritten or you know, owned. I could do that. Just a little old fifteen years old me, picking the superhero name that would stick with me for the rest of my life. How hard could it be?