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Maximilian King had never really considered death.
Not his own anyway. He knew he would die of course, as all the living were destined to. But it was knowledge in an abstract sense, the same way he knew how deep the oceans went down below or how infinitely many stars shined from above.
He had certainly never imagined it like this. Sacrificed to the Lands Beyond, his soul in exchange for a token granting passage to the Lands Below. He wondered if his father, Abraham Thorn, would be satisfied with the outcome. He had fulfilled his mission after all, even on cost on death. Had his father known the price required?
No, he thought, certainly not.
Abraham Thorn hadn’t been a very loving or even attentive father growing up, but he never struck Max as an unfeeling or cruel man. Willing to do what it took to reach his goal, certainly, but even he wouldn’t knowingly send his own children to die. Would he?
Unbiddenly, an early childhood memory came to mind. He remembered it only very vaguely, flashes of sound and color forming blurred impressions and images. He couldn’t have been more than two or three years old. His father standing above him, cutting an imposing figure in his dark robes and striking grey eyes set in sever features. Maximillian wouldn’t admit to this when asked, but as child he’d sometimes been slightly scared of his father, on the rare occasion that he visited. He had feared the tall man would evaporate him on the spot or turn him into all sorts of animals if he didn’t perfectly mind his manners like his mother had told him to. He hadn’t been scared then, though. He thought he remembered being lifted into his father’s arms, the deep tenor of his voice as he talked, radiating warmth and affection.
He had never dared ask if it was real or the just make-belief of a boy missing his father.
Maximilian and his father hadn’t parted on good terms the last time they’d seen each other. Abraham had been frustrated at his son’s lack of progress; Maximilian angry that he wanted to involve his youngest sister. Even so, he hoped that his father would be proud, in the end. He had done as he was asked to.
He wondered what would be said of his death. Only two people knew where he was. He hadn’t even told Martin where was going, only that it was important and that he would be back soon. Maximilian recalled their last moment together, wishing he could see him one last time. They’d never been one for great love confessions or words of affection. Their relationship had lived in teasing words, in late afternoons spent dueling or studying or playing games, in hushed conversations that lasted far into the night and stolen kisses in stolen moments. He hoped he would be forgiven his broken promise.
He'd never told his mother either. If Thalia King knew anything about her son’s dealings with her ex-husband, she hadn’t ever said anything about it. But Maximilian doubted she would have approved. She wasn’t the type to coddle her children, but she was fiercely protective when she felt she had to. He felt a bit guilty about not trusting her, but he knew she wouldn’t have understood him. Nobody did, not even Julia. Maybe especially not her.
The thought of his sweet little sister stirred even more guilt. The girl was stubborn and headstrong and wickedly clever if she put her mind to it, fueling at least as much annoyance as she did affection, but ultimately still a good and gentle soul. Not like him. He wasn’t being a very good older brother by dying on her. But she wasn’t the only little sister he had a duty to protect.
A familiar voice called out to him through the fog clouding his mind.
Alexandra Quick, youngest daughter of Abraham Thorn and troublemaker extraordinaire.
He hadn’t even known her a full year and had only called her sister for a few precious months. He hadn’t quite known what to think of her when they first met. She’d certainly stirred his anger, with her quick sharp tongue that didn’t hold back much of went through her mind and her reckless, thoughtless behavior. Maximilian had learnt that she wasn’t one to be subdued by words or actions and more likely to head straight to her demise than back down on a challenge. He still regretted some of the things he’d done to intimidate her into quitting the Mors Mortis Society. She’d done it entirely out of her own volition in the end.
At times, Maximilian had looked at Alexandra and felt like he was looking in a mirror. The same anger and rage were reflected in her eyes, the same fierceness and refusal to back down, the same vast potential and, even if she denied it, the same thirst to prove herself to the world, to their friends and family. To their father.
But she didn’t have the experience he had, nor the wisdom and skill that went along with it. She was still just a little girl. His little sister.
Out of everyone, he thought, I've let her down the most.
She’d be the angriest, he knew, perhaps too angry to forgive that last trick. Selfishly, he still hoped she would.
His awareness dimmed and his mind grew sluggish the longer the Generous Ones chants went on. With effort, he turned his head toward where his sister was screaming his name.
The last thing Max ever saw was the face of Alexandra Quick illuminated by the bright light of her wand, screaming, angry, desperate and most importantly, safe. He was confident she would find a way back out of the Lands Below all on her own. She was clever like that.
Maximilian King had never really considered death. But he thought dying to protect someone he loved wasn’t such a bad way to go.
Then he fell, out of the land of the living, into the endless abyss.