He pushed up, an involuntary groan sounding deep in his chest.
The soft sheets of Maeve’s bed remained beneath him. Abraxas was gone, and the firelights were completely extinguished. The only source of light came from a small white glow before him. As his eyes focused, he saw the dozens of fully armed Senshi Warriors that previously lined the room lying unconscious on the floor. Drystan slumped over in his reading chair. Not dead. Asleep.
Reeve’s line of Magic surrounding Mal remained. Steadfast and paramount.
But a new Magical signature had entered the space. One that called to him even greater than Maeve’s.
Maxius stood at the foot of the bed with Spinel at his side, with every ounce of Maeve’s Dread Magic inside him. The cat’s long tail curled tightly around his body and draped across his feet. Mal didn’t move as his only child peered at him across the darkened bedroom.
The Dread Locket around his neck glowed with Magic that called to Mal, ancient and of his blood. The Lux charm on Maxius’ wrist illuminated the space between them with soft, white light.
The charm bracelet that had once been Maeve’s.
“Hello, my boy,” he said weakly, hearing his own heartache evident in his call.
You remember me?signed Maxius.
The words were a dagger to Mal’s heart.
“I may only have a drop of my Magic left in me, but I’d recognize my son’s anywhere.”
The corners of Maxius’ lips moved up.
I like your eyes now,signed Maxius.I like them dark. Not green.
Not green.
With a tiny single finger, Maxius tapped the invisible barrier holding Mal in. Emerald light sparked across the cell and dissipated into nothing as he effortlessly shattered Reeve’s Magic.
At last, his son, the youngest to point a single finger, found his Magic.
Maxius climbed into the bed, Spinel close at heel, shifting on his knees across the bed. Mal’s heart began a steady increase of rhythm as his breaths quickened, pouring quickly from him.
Maxius placed his hands on Mal’s knees and crawled into his lap. Mal froze as Maxius rested his head against Mal’s long and emaciated torso. He was a ball of warmth against Mal’s cold skin. Mal’s insides shook. Slowly, and with trepidation, Mal wrapped his arms around Maxius and settled him close. Maxius turned his head, nuzzling into Mal. His hold tightened reflexively, and he looked down at his son.
He didn’t have any portraits or pictures of himself at Maxius’ age, but that didn’t stop him from knowing just how intricately replicated Maxius was of him. Right down to the curve of his eyelids.
Of course, Maeve was there, too. Just differently. In his soft expression and his fearless eyes.
Mal leaned back, resting against the headboard. He didn’t tear his eyes away from Maxius.
It’s time,Maxius signed, looking up at him.
How could it be time already? When, finally, at last, his mind was free of the blight, and he held his son.
He saw and felt what needed to be done.
“I know,” he whispered, entangling his fingers through Maxius’ hair. “She can hold out a bit longer. Just so I can hold you a bit longer. She’s strong, you know.”
Reeve says she’s the strongest,his small hands signed.
Mal pressed his lips to the side of his temple. “She is.”
To be denied a life with his child may have been the cruelest trick of fate bestowed upon Mal.
“You are strong too, Maxius,” began Mal. “So strong that your mother and I knew the moment you came into existence.”
How?signed Maxius.
