Chapter 48
“You promised not to use your Pathokenesis abilities on me, I will remind you,” Maeve said as they walked the gardens at Castle Morana.
Mal eyed her. “I didn’t merely promise it,” he corrected her. “I swore it. In Magic.”
A patter of footsteps drew their attention towards the castle.
Maxius bounded down the garden path, Zimsy close behind him.
“Lithandrian folded so easily beneath that Magic,” said Mal quietly.
Maxius reached for Mal with eager arms long before he arrived between them. Mal kneeled and scooped him up. Maeve nodded at Zimsy, and she retreated into the castle. Spinel jumped high on a stone wall and surveyed them from above.
“Perhaps if I cannot convince you to stay, he can,” said Maeve softly. “You are his favorite.”
Mal looked from Maxius to her. He smiled. The small flecks of green in his eyes had vanished. “There is nothing that can stop me from perpetuating the future I see for us here.”
Maeve opened her mouth as Mal’s slender finger slipped over it.
He looked down at her. “I think I made up for my absence this morning, did I not? Or have you grown so insatiable–”
Maeve’s eyes widened and she gripped his arm, hushing him.
Maxius was blissfully unaware of their conversation, reaching for a dying hydrangea in Mal’s arm.
“That’s what I thought,” said Mal, his mouth hanging open.
Maeve playfully batted his hand away, but Mal swiftly took her chin in it once more. He pulled her to the tips of her toes and tipped her forward. His mouth consumed hers. Her stomach tightened at once, drawing up a deep inhale.
Maxius was still leaning towards the decaying blooms when Mal pulled his lips away and Maeve’s eyes fluttered open. His grip on her chin remained.
“Maxius,” said Mal.
The child slid back down into Mal’s arm, his green eyes fixed on Mal.
“Are you going to practice your Magic while I am away?”
Maxius nodded.
Spinel jumped from the ledge and rubbed Maeve’s ankles, drawing Maxius’ attention down. He pushed gently against Mal, a silent request to be set down. Mal placed him between them, and Maxius squatted down and reached for Spinel.
Together they looked at the mysterious child, and wondered if the Magic in him would ever manifest. Mal’s Magic brushed under her chin, tugging her forward onto the balls of her feet.
His lips pressed into hers in an effortless kiss.
Mal,
I feel so far from you. I wish you would come home.
Her words remained on the enchanted piece of parchment they shared. They did not vanish. She marked the days he was gone each night at midnight. Her marks piled up on the parchment before they disappeared and a single mark of his appeared.
Again and again her parchment filled up with marks, until she resorted to using both sides. Time at Castle Morana and beyond The Barrier grew farther and farther apart.
Maeve’s nightmares and vision multiplied. She no longer slept in The Crown’s Quarters. The gaunt woman with long white hair found her nonetheless. She no longer relied on slumber and dreams to find Maeve.
She was often in the reflection of Maeve’s breakfast tea. She was in the eyes of the Bellator she trained with. Maeve began a journal with her sightings. The ghostly figure never spoke. She watched her from the shadows with an ominous gaze.
And she never appeared around Maxius.
And she did not appear when Maeve took off the Dread Artifacts. It pained her to leave Mal’s Dread Ring on her vanity, her Magic felt cold without it. But it was the only path to a peaceful sleep or afternoon Maeve could find.
At last, Mal’s reply came, vanishing her one desperate plea for him to return to her.
How is Maxius?
Maeve stared at the words, fighting the selfish anger that rose through her.
Gone more often than not. For the sake of Magicals. Subjecting himself to horrors she knew not. While she spent most of her time lost in false memories of the world she longed to be in.
More words appeared in his elegant handwriting.
I imagine he is growing quickly at this age.
Everyday , she wrote back.
Her words vanished. A moment passed and Mal did not reply.
Are you alright? She wrote.
Yes .
Maeve swallowed hard as his single word faded.
Please Mal.
There came no reply. The parchment lay blank. Maeve scribbled with a shaking hand.
Come home. Please.
The words did not vanish. No reply came.
. . .
This place is foreign. It feels like a void. Come home and breathe life into it.
. . .
Maxius asks about you. At least, I think that’s what he is signing. He is so fond of you. He still hasn’t used Magic. I imagine if you worked with him, he could.
. . .
Darkness attacked The Beryl City. The shops are destroyed and the cafes lay in ruin. I wiped their minds. The Bellator are working to restore things.
. . .
I visited the unoccupied parts of the city today. Hundreds of shops and cafes. Their doors lay open. Window signs and paintings cracked and void of color. Their gilded and golden archways covered in decay. Viney thorns cover nearly every inch of stone, winding their way across bridges and sculptures. Some of the thresholds bare a lingering magic, what I imagine was the last attempt of its inhabitants to fight off the blight.
The fountains are dry.
The flower beds, nothing but grey ash.
The sky remains dark.
I miss the bright blue sky on Earth. With giant white clouds gliding across it.
I miss the sound of the water crashing against the shoreline.
I miss the gardens. Your hydrangea are dead.
I miss the constellations and the moon.
I can’t even see the moons here most days. There is only the same misty haze that has been lingering across these lands since the first time you brought me here.
In the city, there is what was once a tea shop. Inside there are two tall backed, oversized chairs by the remains of a black brick fire.
I wish it was restored to its former glory.
And I wish we were seated there. Perhaps reading, or recalling our day apart.
. . .
I’m running out of space. You made the parchment too small.
. . .
If you don’t return soon, Mal, I am afraid I might break.