Malin – Mother #2
Her mother listened intently, her grip on Malin’s hand tightening as the brutal reality of Will’s capture and torture spilled into the room. Malin tapped the heavy cold amulet resting against her collarbone, explaining the volatile, deadly siphon magic now caged within her chest.
Then, she dropped the final, heaviest truth. "Caelum is alive."
Her mother gasped, her elegant composure violently shattering.
"Alive?" She squeezed Malin's fingers, her eyes wide with absolute shock.
"I never truly trusted that man. He always kept too much hidden in the shadows.
But I was disappointed when Victor killed him.
I thought he had finally crossed a line he could never uncross.
For him to have kept that from me was quite a feat. "
Silence stretched between them, heavy but incredibly grounding. A massive weight was lifted from Malin's shoulders. Finally unloading the chaotic, bloody horrors of the last month left her breathing easier.
The urge to bring up her fracturing marriage sat on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed the words back down.
Her mother had only just awakened. The heavy burden of Will's controlling behavior and their damaged bond could wait for another time.
Anariel would be the better sounding board for that mess anyway.
“What is wrong? There is more. I sense something weighing on you.”
Malin sagged, collapsing onto the edge of the mattress.
The adrenaline was finally crashing, leaving behind the crushing weight of the ambush, the near-death of her father, and the fractured, bleeding mess of her marriage to Will.
She could not lie to her mother, not when those calculating eyes were so hungry for the truth.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” Malin said. “You are what is important.”
Mom simply stared at her, offering a deeply reproving look as she waited patiently for the truth.
Malin held the stare for a long, stubborn moment before her shoulders finally slumped. She let out a shaky, defeated breath. She touched the amulet. It's familiar, dampening weight offered silent reassurance that she wouldn’t lose control.
“I keep forgetting who I’m talking to,” Malin muttered, rubbing her bloodshot eyes with the heel of her hand.
“My telepathy is still buried under a mountain of whatever the Minsters have been pumping into my veins,” her mother said, her voice dry.
“But I hardly need to read your mind, Malin. You are my daughter after all. After everything you just described, this must be big.” She grabbed Malin’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Let me be your mother. I want to be here to help you.”
Malin paused. She dropped her gaze to her waist, then looked back up to meet her mother’s eyes. The restored, healthy color of her mom’s face softened beautifully as the severe lines around her mouth vanished.
Malin’s throat tightened. The tears she thought she had conquered pricked her eyes again. “That is right. I found out after you went under. I’m pregnant.”
Her mom closed her eyes. A single tear slipped free to trace down her temple.
“A baby. I told you it would happen. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon,” she breathed.
Reaching out, her fingers brushed gently against Malin’s arm.
“Oh, my brave girl. That is wonderful. But the sorrow I feel in you... It is choking the joy. This is good news. Is it not?”
Malin shattered completely.
“I’m having a baby with a man I love, but I cannot live with.
Our bond is fracturing,” she held out her arm to show the fading tattoo.
“I have no idea how to fix it. I’m so conflicted.
He is suffocating me, but at the same time…
he almost died saving Aeladar,” she confessed, the heavy words tumbling out in a rushed, desperate cascade.
“The trauma from his captivity... it broke something inside him. He is so terrified of losing me that he is trying to put me in a cage just so he can feel safe. He is controlling and jealous… and he refuses to listen. I know now that I love him not just because of the magic, but because of my heart. Our soul-bond is tearing itself apart.” Choking on a bitter sob, she buried her face in her trembling hands.
“I don’t know if we are going to survive this. ”
Silence settled over the bedroom, save for the crackle of the hearth and the distant murmur of the Minsters organizing their vials.
“Trauma is a heavy armor,” her Mom finally said, her tone gentle but unyielding. “It protects you from the enemy, but it crushes the people you try to hold close. You cannot let him drag you into his dark, Malin. You have a child to protect now. William must find his own way out.”
Malin nodded into her hands. She took a deep, shuddering breath, letting the heavy truth of her mother's words settle into her bones. “I know.”
A bleak, exhausted laugh suddenly broke from her chest, entirely devoid of humor. She dragged her palms down her face and looked up.
“And if a fracturing marriage was not enough to navigate,” Malin rasped, “apparently, I am also the center of some ancient prophecy. A dragon told me, and I have no idea if it is the same one we discussed in Media. Then half the villagers in a Fellspire trading post dropped to their knees in the snow and started chanting it at me.”
Her mother’s brow furrowed, her maternal concern shifting instantly back into sharp, calculating political focus. “Chanting what?”
“Feniks Talavo,” Malin sighed. “I don’t even know what it means, but Darik Tenb literally toasted to it, and Jacien… the Elf who is fetching the kids right now… had to smuggle me out before a mob formed.”
Her mother went still, her brow furrowed.
“Mom?” Malin asked, a spike of fresh panic hitting her as she leaned forward. “Mom, what is it? What does it mean?”
“It means,” her mother whispered, her blue eyes wide with a mixture of absolute awe and terrifying realization, “that we have a much larger challenge on our hands than I thought.”
She did not hesitate. Her mother swung her legs over the side of the bed with a sharp, decisive vigor.
The frail, bedridden patient completely vanished, replaced instantly by the fierce, analytical woman who could dissect any political or magical disaster.
A profound, anchoring warmth bloomed in Malin's chest. Her mother was back.
For the first time in an impossibly long month, the suffocating isolation retreated.
She had someone who could help her through this prophecy.
The heavy oak doors of the outer suite violently slammed against the wall.
Frantic, echoing footsteps sprinted down the corridor. Zee burst into the bedroom a second later, completely shattering the fragile peace. Malin’s head snapped toward the noise, her heart instantly jumping into her throat.
Out of breath, with hair wild like a windblown dandelion and a shirt half-untucked, the boy froze in the doorway for a second to take in the scene.
He let out a wild whoop that echoed off the vaulted ceiling and launched himself at Malin, who caught him with a grunt. His thin arms locked around her neck like vines, and he clung so hard she almost lost her balance on the bed’s edge.
“You’re back! Both of you!” His words tumbled out, overlapping and breathless, hot against her ear. “I thought that Elf was lying. That you’d just be asleep forever.”