Morgan awoke to the sound of birds chirping and the tinkling of children's laughter from outside her window. She jumped out of bed and got dressed in a hurry. Even though Nancy had not told her to be there early, she still didn't want the woman to think she was lazy.

She left her new home and made her way over to Nancy's, she paused with her hand poised above the door, about to knock. She remembered what Nancy had said the evening before that she didn't have to knock. Hesitantly Morgan pushed the wooden door open and peaked her head inside.

"Nancy, I'm here."

"Oh goodness. Thank you so much for showing up early, are you sure you are rested?"

"Yes, I am fine." Morgan smiled at the kind woman. 

"Wonderful. If you would, please go gather some wood for a fire. Mother is having a bad day I am afraid and I want to keep her as comfortable as possible."

"Yes." Morgan nodded slightly and went out the back near the piles of large logs.

She found an axe lying near the pile and picked it up. The weight felt different in her hands, she wasn't used to holding such heavy weaponry. She shifted it back and forth between her hands as she got used to the feel of it.

She then turned to the pile of larger logs and rolled one away and sat it on one end. She placed the blade of the axe on the center of the log where she wanted to strike then slowly lifted it above her head. She used all of her strength and brought the blade down on the wood, striking exactly where she had wanted.

The axe dug into the wood, but when Morgan pulled it out, there was barely a dent. This is going to be more work than I thought. 

She continued the process of striking the wood until after what felt like thirty blows the log gave way with a resounding crack.

Morgan smiled to herself and lifted one of the halves back up to split it some more. She kept chopping away at logs, more than once she had been tempted to use her magic to split them. It would have been quick and effective. However, she couldn't take the chance of someone seeing her using the magic. It would unsettle them to know she had been hiding her abilities.

After she had managed to split two of the logs into four smaller pieces each, Morgan heard something approaching from behind.

She whirled quickly facing the threat, wielding the axe ready to strike.

Gregory put his hands in the air with a nervous laugh.

"Whoa there. I have just come to check on you."

Morgan lowered the weapon, mentally hitting herself for her reaction. Doing things like that was not a way for her to blend in and she knew it.

"I'm sorry."

"No need. You know you could have just asked and I would have chopped wood for you. I normally do for Miss Nancy. We do not make the women tax themselves with such tasks." Gregory said stepping forward.

Morgan looked the man up and down, she hadn't noticed before, but he appeared to be around her age, and she could see the muscles moving under the skin of his sun-tanned arms.

She bit the inside of her lip and turned quickly.

"That is quite alright. I do not need a man to do the work for me. I am just as capable as men." She walked back to the pile of logs, taking another from the stack. 

Morgan wiped her sweaty hands on her pants before resuming her work. 

Gregory leaned against a tree watching her as she worked. Many questions ran through his head as he watched her work. About where she had come from, where she was going, her wardrobe. For some reason he wanted to know all about this mysterious woman. The one who refused help on a task from a man, or was it just him?

Despite the slight chill in the air, sweat was starting to drip down Morgan’s face, her short black tresses clinging to it, and her arms were glistening in the sun from the perspiration. As she breathed heavily she turned around looking at Gregory's smiling face. 

She glowered at the man, wondering what he was thinking of her, though she tried to tell herself she didn't care what others thought. 

As Morgan began gathering the smaller pieces of wood and throwing them into a wheeled cart Gregory approached her, gathering the pieces as well. 

"You do not wear skirts."

Morgan stood looking at the man curiously. 

"Come again?"

"You do not wear skirts." He said once more. 

"No I do not." Morgan stated before resuming her task of picking up the wood. 

"It is uncommon for women to not wear skirts." He said watching her carefully.

"Well I am not a common woman."

"That I can tell." He smiled as he watched her. This man seemed to always be smiling. 

"I have traveled many miles." Morgan started as she stood, picking up the last remaining pieces of wood and tossing them into the cart. 

"When traveling through the woods, skirts become impractical. I much prefer the feeling of pants. They are enclosed and make tasks much easier."

Gregory ran a hand over his mouth trying to hide his wide smile and the chuckle of laughter that was trying to escape. 

"I would much have to agree with you." He said. 

"However, some villagers, women in general are getting upset by the fact that you do not dress like a ... proper lady." He removed his large hat and ran a hand through his thick, short hair. 

"They believe you are setting a poor example for the children." 

Morgan sighed and leaned against the cart. 

"I do not own anything other than this." Morgan said looking down and analyzing her own clothing. 

"I think I can find something for you. That is, if you want it."

Morgan thought about it for a moment. She really didn't enjoy wearing anything other than pants. When she was younger and her parents had still been alive she was the perfect polite child. She had worn her skirts and had the manners of a royal. 

When she ran from the castles she had quickly learned that skirts did not belong in the woods. She had turned them into pants and found it much easier for travel. She had never thought twice about it until now.

"I wouldn't want the rest of the village to think I am trying to corrupt their young."

Gregory smiled again and Morgan couldn't help but smile herself. The gesture made his face look younger except for the lines that crinkled around his brown eyes.

"I will drop them by your place later tonight."

"Okay." She replied to his retreating figure before pushing the cart back to Nancy's house.

She hauled the wood into the house and put some in the fireplace, and lit them. Soon the flames began to grow and heat spread through the room. 

"I was about to go out looking for you, I thought you may have gotten lost." Nancy's voice carried from the doorway. 

Morgan chuckled. 

"No, I was not lost. Just busy." 

"What did you do, chop the wood yourself?" Nancy asked jokingly.

"Yes I did." 

Nancy looked at her in shock. 

"Oh, but you didn't have to do that Morgan. Gregory should have had some set aside for you to pick up."

She wondered if he had in fact already had the wood split for her, and if so, why he hadn't said he did. 

"That is quite alright. It was fun doing something new." Morgan turned and stood. 

"Is there anything else I can do?" Morgan said, trying to shift the subject.

"Yes, could you please make lunch for my mother and take it in to her? I need to see a couple people for trades."

Morgan nodded and got to work, looking through the stock of food Nancy had in the home. 

She found some dried meats and gathered a few vegetables, plating them, she grabbed a cup and scooped fresh water. She gathered the plate and went to the back room with Nancy's mother. 

She knocked on the frame before entering. 

"Mrs. Higgins, I have food for you."

She heard the old woman grumble and wheeze and she entered, sitting on a stool beside the woman's bed. 

Morgan's nerves were tingling. She was sitting in the presence of a woman who she believed had The Sight, this was the last place she should be. 

The woman turned, looking into Morgan with her milky white eyes. The sight made Morgan cringe slightly before taking a deep breath. 

They believe the woman is senile I do not need to worry. She kept trying to reassure herself as she tightly clutched the plate. 

She picked up a chunk of the meat and found the woman's hand, coaxing it into her palm.

"Here is some meat Mrs. Higgins."

The woman quickly latched herself onto Morgan's hand pulling her closer, the woman's lips just inches from her ear. 

"You are a necromancer." Her raspy voice said. 

Morgan froze, panic catching her breath. 

"I-I do not know what you are talking about ma'am." Morgan stuttered trying to swallow her fear. 

"You have the witches curse upon you. You bring nothing but death in your wake. I must warn them."

Morgan's heart began to beat faster as the woman’s words sank in. The woman had begun to rock back and forth as she blindly tore at the piece of meat. 

"Yes, the people must know what you are." Her blind eyes looked at Morgan again, as if seeing her clearly.

"I am not a necromancer, nor a witch. I am just a human." Morgan said calmly.

"Lies! You are a necromancer and you will bring pain and suffering. This village will know what you are, and when they do they will cast you out." 

Morgan watched as the woman continued to rock in the bed. Her greasy gray hair was stick in all directions, some plastered to the sides of the woman's face. Her lips moved as if she was saying something, but no sound came out. 

"I will tell them all." She finally said.

Morgan’s heart stuttered.

"No one will believe you."

"You admit it, you are a devil witch. I will tell them all. I will tell them all." The woman kept repeating the phrase as she picked at the meat.

"No you will not. I have no plans for this village, I am just trying to survive." Morgan whispered to the woman trying to reassure that she had no malicious intent. 

"You will bring pain and death upon this place."

"Why do you believe that?" Morgan asked. 

"It is what your kind does. You kill, you break." The woman said as she rocked. Suddenly she began coughing. The sound made Morgan cringe, it sounded as if she were about to cough up a vital organ. 

"You have done this to me." The woman sounded as if she were pleading.

"I have done nothing to you. I have never met you before." 

"More lies. You blinded me, you cursed me with the illness!" The woman shouted at Morgan, her face contorted into an ugly mask.

Morgan jumped up from the stool nearly spilling the plate. 

"I have no idea of what you speak." 

"I will tell them all." The woman started again. Just then she put the rest of the meat in her mouth.

"You will not tell anyone anything." Morgan said, fear being replaced by anger. There was no way she was going to let this old woman ruin the life she was trying to build. She had been on the road far too long, she deserved a place to finally call home. 

If the people found out she had lied to them and she was a witch, let alone a necromancer, they would surely turn on her. They would most likely chase her from the village, if she were lucky enough for them to only try that. She wouldn't be able to use her magic against these people though, they were kind. Any sort of lashing that occurred would be a result purely from fear, and she wouldn't blame them for that, she couldn't. 

As she was lost in her own nightmare of what could happen she barely noticed the old woman choking on the piece of meat. Morgan began to panic, not knowing what she should do. She had never been in a situation like this before.

Suddenly a thought crossed her mind as she watched the old woman's arms flail as she struggled to clear her air way and breathe again.

What if I just let her die? The fact that she had contemplated murder shocked herself. She had never thought of wishing harm on anyone. Then again, no one besides the Necro Hunters had threatened harm towards her such as this woman. 

If she dies she cannot tell my secret. Morgan thought. But if she dies, it will devastate Nancy. She kept flipping back and forth in her head. Her thoughts were in an uproar, as she debated the life of the woman on the bed. Her soundless gagging and flailing burned into Morgan's eyelids as she tried to close them against the horrid sight. 

She could no longer bear the thought of hurting the woman who had shown her such kindness, she opened her eyes to see the woman lying still on the bed, her eyes open, staring at nothing. 

Morgan felt for a pulse, finding it weak but still there. She focused her energy, and she could feel the hairs on her arm rising as she concentrated. 

She opened the woman's mouth and tilted her head back, clearing the passage before placing her hand over Mrs. Higgins' mouth. She focused her energy and powers and pulled her hand up slowly. 

Morgan could hear a wet squishing noise as she pulled before she heard the gasp of breath as the piece of meat left the old woman's throat and she was finally able to breathe again. 

Morgan sighed and let the meat fall to the bed. The woman was alive, she would be okay, but she couldn't say the same for herself. 

Morgan's whole body shook as she backed away from the bed, plate still in hand. She slowly retreated as the woman kept repeating the same phrase over and over.

"Devil witch." 

Morgan took the plate with the remaining food and set it on the table. She rushed from the house, retreating back to her own. Once she was in the safety of her own closed doors, she allowed the fear to wash over her. 

I almost let a woman die to protect myself. Is that what my time on the run has turned me into? A murderer? Morgan looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and wild, something new hidden behind them, something that suggested that was in fact what had happened. She would do anything at this point to keep herself alive, including killing innocent people. 

She took deep breaths trying to gain her composure and she gathered water for the tub. Morgan scrubbed her skin roughly with a rag as if she were trying to clean off the evilness that was invading her mind and body. 

Maybe the woman is right, I will only bring pain and death. Morgan shook the thought from her mind, scrubbing harder until her skin was red and raw. She sighed and finally got out of the tub, the water having sufficiently cooled. 

She found what appeared to be a towel and wrapped her body in the fluffy fabric, drying herself off. 

She heard a light nocking on the front door. Her brows crinkled wondering who would be there, there had been no visitors since she had taken up residence in the home. 

Morgan pulled the towel around her body tighter and made her way to the door opening it slightly.

Gregory was on the other side holding something in his hands. 

"Hello Miss Surely, I have brought you the skirts I was talking abou-"

His words died off as she opened the door more and he saw the state she was in. His cheeks turned red, burning with embarrassment as he saw her standing in front of him in nothing more than a towel and he cleared his throat.

"Oh I am sorry to interrupt you. I didn't think you would be... indecent." He mumbled.

"No, I am sorry. I completely forgot you said you would drop these off." Morgan reached out to Gregory's extended hand grabbing the bundles of fabric and clutching them tightly to her small frame to cover more of her body. 

"If walking around in pants throughout the village was considered inappropriate, I wouldn't want to know what they thought of answering the door in nothing but a towel would be considered." Her cheeks flushed and she looked down.

"Yes, well." He paused scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I acquired those from the Langley sisters. They are the best seamstresses in the village. The should fit you well enough." 

"Thank you kindly." Morgan started. "For all of your help. You have been most kind." She smiled at him.

Gregory nodded, a nervous smile on his face as he turned and retreated into the darkness. 

Morgan shut the door and held up the skirts, examining them. They were nothing like the ones she had worn back in the palace, but she had not expected them to be. They were exactly what she needed, plain. They looked just like what the other women in the village wore and they would help her fit in nicely. 

One set was made of blues, ranging from as light as her icy blue eyes to as dark as the most royal of blues. The other made of greens and browns. The patterns were lovely, but Morgan couldn't help but dread the fact that she would no longer be wearing pants. 

"Maybe this is a good sign. Maybe this means I will finally be able to settle here and stay, build my own life." She said to no one in particular. 

Morgan set the skirts aside and crawled under the covers of the bed, mentally and physically exhausted from the day.