Leah Giarratano
Disharmony
The Telling 01, 2012
Status: Logged in User: Intellice
I’ve been awake here since lights out, wondering how to lay all this out for you. The fact that they’ve entrusted me with this job is pretty freakin’ funny, but I’m not sure whether the joke is on me or on you. Maybe you could answer that if I could tell you where I’m sleeping tonight, but then again, it’d probably still be just as tough to figure out. Trust me, though, somebody’s laughing.
Anyway, I think I’m just gonna begin with the Witch. I mean, she’s the one who started all this, at least the stuff this century, anyway. And, personally, I think it’s best that whenever witches are involved you should get them right out in the open straightaway – you know, so you know what you’re dealing with. Especially this one. Morgan Moreau. The way I hear it is that Morgan has never given a rats about the Council, the treaty, or anyone other than herself. Except maybe that dragon-daemon she’s rumoured to hold captive. Of course, you can make up your own mind. Maybe
No one is precisely sure when Morgan Moreau first heard of the Telling, and that means, of course, that we don’t know exactly how many children are out there. Maybe we never will. It was never any surprise, though, that if one witch was going to learn of the Telling it would be Morgan. She was always playing around with daemon-lore, delving into the para-illegal. Word is that at eighteen she murdered her best friend with a knitting needle through the eyeball. Harsh, huh? But her best friend
You
I’d say that Morgan did end up absorbing some of her bestie’s powers, because she sure had her way with men, and that was half her strategy in trying to bring the Telling to life.
Look, if you haven’t heard of the succubi, then I’m pretty sure you’ve never heard of the Telling. And that’s the bit I need to get to, so listen up. You’re not supposed to know about the Telling – hell, neither am I. For five thousand years, maybe ten people from every generation knew of this prophecy, and they passed it down, shrouded in secrecy spells, mouth-to-ear. But nowadays every elf and goblin knows the tale, and even the orcs have heard of it (not that they understand it any more than they do the theory of relativity, or even spaghetti bolognaise). Even humans now know about the Telling, but they’re not stupid enough to speak of it. Nobody wants to be jabbed with a shedload full of antipsychotic medication, if you know what I mean.
Still, you should be told about it. And that’s what I’m here for. Well, for as long as I’ve got to log this right now, anyway.
So, the Telling…
You know how we all live in disharmony? Chaos? War? And how more than half the world suffers in poverty, with disease? Well, it’s not only like that for mortals, you know, it’s Universal, and get this, it’s not supposed to be that way. But maybe five thousand years ago, when everything got so screwed up, it was foretold that three children would one day be born who could change all that.
One, a child with no capacity to feel emotional pain and no ability to understand the emotions of others.
Another, the opposite, a child of such pure emotional connection that she would have known where and why you had an itch before you even knew that a bug bit you.
And the third, a laser beam of concentrated brilliance – pure, personified intelligence.
And there you have it.
The Psychopath, the Empath and the Genius.
Together, they can create harmony. You know, heal the world. Peace, love and hummus, baby.
But the big problem was, according to the Telling, they could also be used as a weapon if the wrong person got a hold of them, schooled them up the wrong way. You see, they have to be taught about their Calling. They have to be instructed from their earliest years in how to use their powers, in how to fulfil their destiny, in how to save the rest of us. They need guidance, the right parents. They need love.
What they got is Morgan Moreau.
Well, sort of.
Look, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure how much longer I can spend here with you. I can see torches in the hall. I hope the synthesiser is kicking in properly. Hell, they should really have got someone else to do this. If they catch me… well, let’s just say that the people keeping me here have a library dedicated to torture interrogation and truth extraction under psychosurgery. Believe me, I know.
Anyway, Morgan didn’t want to wait about for the Telling to eventuate. No, she wanted the prophecy here and now. She wanted to control it. Who wouldn’t want the world’s future in their hands? She knew that the trio had to be exactly right, so she set about trying to find mates who could sire babies just like the three in the prophecy. Unfortunately, the… um… recipes weren’t always exactly spot on. So, when Morgan gave birth to a child who didn’t fit the bill, so to speak, she just abandoned it, or let Welfare take care of it.
Well, the lucky ones anyway.
And we wouldn’t have known about any of this if one of her little darlings hadn’t almost killed her when making his way into the world. Word is, a Bedouin tribe found her almost bled out in a desert in Southern Jordan. When she recovered, and figured out the child wasn’t the right one, she left it behind. She took to deliveries in mortal hospitals after that.
We think it took about fifty years, but Morgan Moreau finally did it. The twins were born first, fifteen years ago. Can you believe it? The Psychopath and the Empath are twins. That little twist was never in the Telling. The Genius arrived a year later, and he proved to be just one too many babies. Morgan died screaming during childbirth.
But the plans, the prophecy, the Telling, had already been set in motion. Morgan Moreau had planned long and hard, and she knew that she had to split the siblings up. To hide them. After all, there’s just no way that beings so powerful could exist in one spot and not draw forth all manner of creatures. If she was smart, and believe me,
