As years passed, and the followers of the Horned Heart grew, the avatar became ever less distinct from the blood witch herself. Malleus was there in the room, black-horned and dark-haired and crimson-eyed, the stories of their followers' greatest moments written on their skin in colorful ink the same way Mallory's mortal life was written on hers. It was not a sudden appearance, but a gradual revelation. They had always been there.
They had never left his side, all the way to the end.
They watched him with warmth and sadness and pride, all at once.
Morgan had been standing quietly for some time. It no longer caused him discomfort, nor did his body bend under the weight of years and experience. He was not young, nor was he old... he simply was. He felt the presence of Malleus for some time before he acknowledged them when he spoke softly, a voice that reverberated gently in the aether of the edge of nothing.
"I did my best." It was an all-encompassing statement. One that spoke to his deeds in life, worship, and love. And he seemed rather pleased with it.
Only when he spoke did Malleus approach. There was that heartbeat, that warmth, as they stretched an arm around his shoulders in the same way that Mallory had, many times before, and looked at his body and at Mart. "You did."
The spirit, just as in life, seemed to gravitate further into Malleus. He looked around, then down to hands that, even to him, seemed more suggestion than reality. "I wondered what this would be like." He mused, a soft and wispy breeze indicating a small laugh. After a moment to truly take it in, he nodded. "I forgot what it was to not hurt." The amusement had shifted to something like a sad amazement. A realization. He looked at the Moon Elf that held his corporeal hand, and was quite suddenly beside him.
"Will he be okay?"
"Loss is never easy. We have lived through many; but we have never lost a child until today," they said, both warm and sad. "He has lived through many more; but he has never lost someone like you. It will be the hardest thing he has ever done."
He seemed to try to touch the man beside his body, and frowned when he could not feel him. He looked at the hand that didn't settle on a shoulder. "I tried to reassure him. Tell him he could find me. In the end." It would be a very long time, he was sure. Thousands of years. But even now, time meant very little. Everything around them unfolded at a strange sort of pace. All at once quick, and yet so very slowly. He bent down, and though neither of the two would feel it, he did his best to press one last kiss on Mart's cheek. With that, he straightened, and was next to Malleus once more, hands folded in front of him.
"He's smart, and more level than I ever was. If anyone can do it... he will." There was another soft breeze, something warm and barely registering. At least... he did not feel it physically, so much as realize it was him. He looked up, and that warmth was a smile. "I'm ready. I'd like to go wait for him now."
Malleus nodded their assent, and welcomed Morgan with that same warmth, hand outstretched. "You have earned your rest, my knight... my son."
The breeze that Morgan’s soul had become was warm, and an undefined hand reached for the one offered to him. He felt those physical things around him start to fade. The home he'd made with the man that mourned silently next to him; trinkets and memories and pictures of great expeditions and adventures. He drifted away from the world of living things peacefully...
Until there was a scream that turned him cold as an arctic wind. His hand pulled back, and slowly regained some definition as he looked back at the elf on his knees. He froze, and did not know what to do. The sorrow held him. The sobs rooted him. He could almost feel his throat tearing with the sheer power of the noise. For him, the heartbeat he felt from the place and the being that beckoned him... went silent, for those moments in time.
Malleus made no move to pull him back to them, nor stay his feet. That had never been their way. No - the hand on his shoulder was steadying, and moved with him. "Time is different in the flesh. It is why they grieve." They, those who had mortal flesh.
Morgan's spirit looked back to Malleus, a tepid sort of feeling in the space where he was, and yet wasn't. "I can feel it." He said with a sorrowful wonder. His ethereal voice became nothing more than a soft whisper. "Malleus, I can't..."
Malleus' crimson eyes were the saddest they had been yet, when they looked upon Morgan and his grief now; not just his grief, but the grieving they would do, and Mallory, if he made this choice. "You know what will happen if you stay. You know what you will become."
Morgan pulled further from Malleus, and was silent for a moment. His spirit's gaze never left the Moon Elf. He could see them. The glimpses of possibility. Where this could lead. He could see the moment he lost himself, and everything. "I do."
This time, Malleus pursued, not to retrieve, but to bid him farewell. Their hands moved to his face, warmth without touch, a sense of nearness without sensation. Crimson eyes were steady and unmoving; a blink did not matter, not anymore. "She is losing you," they reminded him.
Morgan's spirit took a moment to wrap Malleus in a way that he understood in life. A way that was coming back to him in memory as he took some sort of form that made more sense once more. Nothing corporeal, but one he could remember. Small, and youthful. "She knows I will always love her." He responded. In his eyes there was something between pleading, and gratefulness. A plea to forgive, and the relief that he might be able to stay.
They were weeping. Blood trailed already from their eyes down to the tips of their toes, and pooled until they touched the tips of his toes. "You will forget us. Remember this promise I ask that you make us; see it reflected in a glimmer in his eyes whenever you look. When it ends, spare a word for her. Just one."
Mama.
Morgan smiled, and his lips pressed to the cheeks of the avatar. The blood from their face did not transfer to his lips, but he could almost taste the sweetness, and the heartbreak. And yet, the broken Elf behind him tasted far more bitter to his senses. "I love you, Mama. I will love you as long as I can." He reached up, and poked their forehead, almost playfully. And thus the promise was made.
"I love you, Morgan." There were no caveats. A goddess was forever.
They smiled. They rippled. And then they were no more in this space, save for the scent of too-sweet blood that would always linger on the bedroom floor.
Morgan watched the space where nobody was a moment... And then turned to Mart.
((Special thanks to the player of Malleus for this scene! I couldn't have done it without you!))
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There's Only Me - Heads
“On these magic shores children at play are for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we can still hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more.” - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
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