The rumble of the motorcycle engine helped to tune out the other noises; the traffic of other vehicles, the idle chatter of Tyrfing and, more eerily, the sound of Serena, humming some sort of tune in the back of my mind. The newer sound, her humming, started as soon as I touched down in Wales. I didn't waste any time leaving the cities behind and making my way into the foothill villages, eager to be away from the people. A black sports car whizzed around the corner of the hillside highway, nearly driving right into me, swerving between the lines on the road. I tried to move out of the way, but I lost my balance and rode into the guard rail, my back tire bouncing off the hood of the black car. I clutched to the handles for my life before the car bothered to stop, pushing me further into the guard rail. I swung over the bike to avoid the plummet down the steep hillside. The screech of steel was painful as I watched my motorcycle make the plunge instead.

  My first instinct was to summon the sword and open up the asshole's car like a tin can. But I desperately tried to fight the urge. I didn't want to hurt anyone.

  "You're no fun." Tyrfing sneered in my mind, the cursed sword making the approximation of a sigh.

  "Oi, asshole! You fucked up my car!" The musclebound jerk shouted as he stepped out of the vertically opening door of his expensive car. His hooker looking girlfriend jumped out of the other side, shrieking.

  "I'm sorry, maybe you missed the part where you hit me and my bike went over the guard rail." I fought to keep my voice monotone and without too much aggression, but it was proving to be more difficult than I expected. Perhaps Anders was right, maybe I was slipping.

  "You should watch where the fuck you're going! Are you gonna pay for the damages to my car?" He lumbered over to me, and I felt all my muscles tense. His girlfriend was leaning on the car, smirking and picking at her nails, like this was normal for her man. She was probably used to the anger and the outbursts. Suddenly, I'm reminded of Magnus and Hilde and thought she was probably just happy it wasn't aimed at her.

  The man continued to blabber on, but I became distracted by the incessant humming. It was getting louder the further out I had gone. I looked out over the hilly landscape. It had some kind of pull, almost magical in nature. It was clear it wasn't coming from inside my mind, like the sword, but an outward force. And it was using Serena's voice to lure me.

  "Hey Kurt Cobain, you listening?" The guy snapped. He whacked my shoulder and without much thought, my hand snapped out and grabbed his wrist. I twisted and snapped it without a thought. His scream made me turn around and only then did I realize that I'd broken his wrist.

  "Oops."

  I was sincere in my mistake, it had been purely instinctual. But judging by the gasps of his girlfriend and the raging threats streaming from the asshole, the whole situation wasn't going to just end.

  He threw a big meaty fist and I felt bad, so I let him have it. His fist collided into my face and I accepted the blow, but he got greedy and tried to follow up with an elbow. I caught it and used his momentum to move around him.

  "Listen, you're making a huge mistake. Just get back in your car and I'll forget about the bike." I awkwardly smiled, trying to be disarming.

  He threw another punch, so I crouched and used my momentum on the way back up to slam into his outstretched arm with my open palm. The positioning was just right, so his elbow popped out of place, but nothing broke permanently.

  "Please, you don't want to do this." I begged. I backed away from him, toward the car. I felt a handbag hit me in the back of the head over and over. I sighed and rolled my eyes, turning around and shaking my head at the girlfriend.

  "Stop it, you freak!" Her voice was nasally and annoying. I contemplated ripping out her vocal chords. Or the sword did. It was getting hard to separate the two anymore. Tyrfing's voice had merged deep into my own thoughts now, after its possession to kill Rabbi Elijah. It felt like there was no other being, we were one and the same now and it scared me. As I tried to put more distance between us, a high heel flew past my head. It served as a proper distraction, as Muscles bodychecked me into the dirt road.

  "Fuck." Was all that escaped my lips before he climbed on top of me and tried to fill my face with his fists. I put both my arms up and went purely on the defensive. For his sake. His girlfriend cheered him on, and her damn voice was like a crowbar, rattling on the cage of my anger. I felt Tyrfing materialize on my back. It could all be over right now. The sword appearing made Muscles sit back and go, "What the fuck?".

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  I used this moment to thrust my knee into his groin and slide out from under him. My hand reached back and I could feel the thrum of power coming from the sword. The hatred flowed through me without even drawing it. And suddenly the humming got louder. It turned into a song, the words in an ancient dialect that took me a few moments to identify. Possibly Brythonic. It only vaguely sounded like Serena now. Its call sang like a siren song, reaching to something deep in my heart. I felt the tug in my veins. It felt strangely warm, almost comforting. Tyrfing disappeared and my anger faded. I called to it and I could feel Tyrfing clawing at the back of my mind. The separation between us was there again. Like someone had forced a wall between and the cursed sword.

  "No! How?" The sword shrieked.

  "This is not who you are." A new voice said in my mind, the words were powerful and feminine. In all the confusion of voices in my head, the girlfriend raked her long pointed nails across my face, digging deep gashes into my skin. I flinched and staggered back.

  "Ow, fuck." I was surprised by the amount of pain I was feeling. It was new and fresh. Like sensation restored to a numb limb. I felt Tyrfing surge with power, eager to be free, trying to react.

  "Something's wrong." It warned me, speaking to me normally, almost gently like it had when I first got the blade. As if on cue, Muscles got another good shot at my face. Then another. I consciously tried to call to Tyrfing this time. I was done playing around. Again, the sword materialized and again it disappeared, the song in my head growing louder.

  "This is not who you are." The female voice in my head said again.

  "Shut up!" Tyrfing cried out, trying to drive the other voice away. A punch to my sternum drove the wind from my chest and I fall to my knees. For the first time in a long time, I'm weak, defenseless. Without Tyrfing, my body is frail, broken and failing.

  "The gun." Tyrfing reminded me. I reached into the holster inside my leather jacket, and my hand curled around the pistol. Before I could pull it from my jacket, Muscles kicked me in the chest. Or what would have been my chest if my hand wasn't on the gun. The loud bang made him stumble back a bit, and we both looked down at the blood pooling under my jacket. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. I looked up to the hillside and cloudy sky, as I felt myself fall backwards.

  "So, this is what it feels like." I groaned. It was almost a peaceful feeling. Like a long awaited feeling deep inside.

  "Hold on kid." Tyrfing called out in my head, almost affectionately. I could feel it fighting for control. It materialized and disappeared over and over.

  "This is not who you are." Rang in my ears like a death knell from the other voice. I faintly heard Muscles and his girlfriend scramble back into the car and the screech of the car peeling off. Laying in the middle of a lonely highway in the hills of Northern Wales, I felt myself dying. A single crow flew down and perched on the guard rail, quorking and tilting its head at me. I smiled at it, welcoming the beautiful creature to carry my soul off to whatever Underworld awaited me. I would finally be at peace.

  "Chase, hey kid, hang in there! I'll think of something." Tyrfing retreated into my mind, into the well of knowledge from my days at the Citadel, training under Progenitor Merlin. I flopped over onto my side, but didn't dare to move my hand. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop the bleeding in my chest. The crow hopped off the guard rail and waddled toward me.

  "This is not who you are." It squawked at me.

  "Huh?" The question left my mouth in the form of blood. The crow shook the blood off and waddled closer, until it was right before my face.

  "This is not who you are. This is not who you are. This is not who you are..." It cawed over and over, pressing its head against mine. Tyrfing's voice started to come in and out like an old broken radio. Panic set in as I realized I actually going to die. Instinctually, I moved my hand away from the wound and tried to stand, tried to grasp at the dirt or the crow, something, anything, as I panicked. What about Kalysta? What about Anders? My mind raced, as I tried to think of some way to stop it from happening. I cursed myself for learning shadow magic instead of healing. A sickening gurgle left my lips and a flood of blood escaped my mouth. Tears stung my eyes, making the world a watery blur. The crow continued to caw at me and the static of Tyrfing fighting for control filled my head. I could hear the blade surging to reality in defiance, appearing and disappearing. It tried to pulled on my anger, but there was only panic and sadness.

  "I deserve this." I thought.

  "This is not who you are." The crow agreed, hopping around my head.

  "I killed her. I killed so many."

  "This is not who you are."

  My body convulsed as Tyrfing used a huge burst of magic to try and materialize on my back. I sucked in a huge gasp of air, but found I was unable to expel it. I looked up at the crow, but it didn't look like a crow anymore. Instead, my head was in a woman's lap, her silky black dress cushioning my neck. I could see her pale hand stroking the side of my face, but I couldn't really feel it. I struggled to roll onto my back and looked straight up at the woman. Her eyes were a shimmering violet, dancing in a sea of porcelain flesh. Long black curls framed the sides of her face. In her other hand was Tyrfing, which she looked over as if she had just picked up an insect that disgusted her. She turned the blade over in her hand.

  "This is not who you are." She said to me directly, looking into my eyes as she threw the sword, with supernatural strength, over the hillside. I could hear the sword shriek as it plummeted into the valley. With a much softer grace, the woman brushed my hair from my face. Blood filled my lungs and the world was fading to black. I heard cawing, and then the ancient song began again. Hundreds of crows surrounded her and I. The last thing I saw was her smiling face. And the last thing I heard was her voice...

  "Chase Morgan. This is not who you are."