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”ALRIGHT! PLEASE STAY SAFE LILIA-SAMA! I'LL BE BACK SOON!”
“I’ll be fine—now go!” Lilia shouted, shoving her into the main hallway, which quickly filled with thorns behind her. Sebek stumbled out and ran as fast as she could out of Diasomnia and into the Mirror Chamber.
Her heart beat frantically in her chest—what could she do? Time was of the essence during an overblot. Who could she find the quickest? Riddle came to mind immediately, and she dialed his number.
“Hello, this is Riddle Rosehearts speaking.” His voice was brisk, almost businesslike.
“We… need… help.” Her voice came out shaky; she still needed time to catch her breath. While it conveyed the urgency of her demands, it was still humiliatingly unprofessional. She was meant to be a guard, not a bystander.
The darkness had bled into the air like poison. She had never had so many terrible thoughts—seeping in via the tainted magic that pervaded the hollow, chilled spring air.
There was a pause she didn’t have time to contemplate.
“Sebek.”
“… Yes?” She was still taking breaths she wasn’t sure she needed. Surely after all that standing still and not finding help, she would be ready by now. Stars above, what was wrong with her?
That endless clinging darkness, so unlike the peaceful reprieve of night, seeping into the floor and the air and her mind and her magic, the coldness and the certainty that what was looking at you through familiar eyes was something parasitic and wholly vicious.
“Right now—Where are you?” Riddle asked carefully. He sounded like he was at a party. Probably another unbirthday party.
“… The Mirror Chamber.” She still felt dizzy, but the blot-induced flashbacks dissipated minutely.
“Sebek. Tell me what the problem is.” Riddle’s voice was strict and severe as a gate of iron and she grasped for that certainty with desperate hands.
She swallowed and then said quietly, “Malleus is on the verge of overblot.” She didn’t want to say it, and yet it was true; and she had to, lest aid not reach him at all.
“What?! You couldn’t have led with that?!” There was the sound of muffled shouting before the call dropped and she pocketed her phone.
She turned, taking in the seven mirrors arrayed around her.
She didn’t have any of the other housewardens’ phone numbers, so she’d have to choose. Who could she convince in the shortest amount of time?
Savanaclaw? No. They had a bad relationship—she doubted they’d listen to her in a time of crisis.
Then perhaps Pomefiore? It might be easier to convince Vil-senpai than Leona-senpai.
She made up her mind. She would seek help in Pomefiore.
Now—the mirror. She pivoted on her heel until she could see herself clearly in its gleaming depths, braced herself, and threw herself in.
When she opened her eyes, it was to the shining tile and large windows that characterized Pomefiore. There was only one problem: it was completely empty.
What?!
So she had successfully made it to the common area, but it was completely devoid of students. ‘Where had they all gone?’ she wondered, alarmed, ‘and why today of all days?’ It didn’t even sound like anyone was here—there was no sound of breathing, or footsteps on the smooth stone floor.
Searching the common room, she couldn’t find a single soul. She was about to give up when she spotted a familiar head of lilac hair.
“Epel!” she cried, spirit momentarily roused, though her elation was short lived as she remembered she’d not yet caught her breath.
Epel’s head whipped over, his hands still hovering over his half-done paper.
“Hey Sebek.” His brow furrowed, a bewildered smile on his lips, and he tipped his head to the side. “What’cha you doin’ here?”
“I–” she panted, bracing herself against a table as if she'd just run one of Vargas’ infamous track regimens.
“Where—is—the housewarden?” she asked, struggling to get the words out through labored breaths.
“… Malleus?” She shook her head.
“If you're talking ‘bout Vil, he’s out.”
But where was he? She looked at him desperately, as if they could communicate by gaze alone.
Why was she so exhausted? It was unusual of her to tire so fast, not with the grueling training Lilia had put her through. Maybe it was the blot she’d inhaled?
He frowned. “Seriously, what’s going on? Something’s got your feathers ruffled.”
She still couldn’t speak. Whatever the cause, she felt disoriented, and it was hard to stay upright. Epel eyed her swaying form with something approaching concern. “I'll get ya some water.”
He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm.
“Where’s Vil?”
“Dunno. Reckon he’s still at that fancy shoot with the film club.”
She scanned the room again. Still no one but her and Epel. “Then… where’s Rook-senpai?”
Epel shrugged in a ‘who knows’ sort of way. “I think he’s with Vil?”
“And they won’t be back anytime soon?”
Epel shook his head. “Not that I know. Whad’ya need ‘em for anyways?”
Her hand fell, finally allowing him to retrieve the cut-crystal water pitcher and glass Pomefiore evidently kept for guests.
“Malleus is overblotting,” she said. “I don't have any more time to wait, so if you want to help, you have to come with me—now!”
He paused, processing her words, his hand still holding the pitcher, pouring water into the glass until she was sure it would overflow. Then he slammed the cup down in front of her, water sloshing alarmingly close to the edge.
“I’m in.”
Sebek took it gratefully, downing the water in large gulps.
“Woah—slow down there. You don’t wanna choke.”
She nodded a little sheepishly, taking slower sips.
Epel took the moment to locate his magic pen while she carefully sipped her water. After they finished, they went through Pomefiore’s mirror to find themselves back in the Hall of Mirrors, ran down the hall to Savanaclaw and leapt through the mirror together.
A rush of sand and languid heat—the reverie of an endless desert—hit her.
When she opened her eyes, she was still disoriented. The air shimmered faintly with heat and she felt unstable from the temperature shift between the Mirror Chamber, kept cool to better preserve the mirrors, and the warm, almost-sweltering world of the pocket dimension.
Leona stood in the apex of that roiling desert, arms crossed and expression hard to read. Jack stood off to the side, as if trying not to be included as one of their number, and Ruggie stood next to Leona in the scant shade provided by his companions.
Leona noticed them immediately.
“Oi, Epel. Practice ain’t til Thursday,” he said. When he turned to Sebek, his gaze went harsh. “And you,” he growled. “What’re you doing in my territory?”
“Lord Malleus is overblotting!” she shouted. There was too much going on to wait for the proper time to speak, and even as her mind screamed at her to stop being so brazenly rude, a deeper instinct screamed at her to get back to Malleus, and protect him.
Leona’s eyes sharpened at that. “The overgrown lizard’s overblotted again?” he scoffed. “Just has to make everything about him…”
“Please, we have to get to him soon or—”
His green eyes pierced through her, scrutinizing. “And what makes you think I’ll help? Our dorms aren't exactly on good terms.”
Sebek held herself stiffly. “It’s not a matter that affects only you. If Lord Malleus overblots again, it will be trouble for the whole school—that includes you.”
Epel jumped up. “I’m coming too!” he said, a bit too enthusiastically, in her opinion, but she would take it.
“Are you sure you can beat him?” Jack asked skeptically.
“If we don’t, the lizard’s going to destroy the world again.” Leona dismissed the idea of failure with a wave of his hand.
Jack looked away, but did not speak again.
Sebek felt a sense of frustration within her that was hard to reconcile with the idea of one of her friends. She liked them just fine, adored them even, but they had better not get in the way of her family.
“Fine, I’ll come with.” Leona looked irritated, rubbing his temples in exasperation, but… he was actually agreeing. Sebek felt a lightness soar in her chest.
With Riddle ahead of them and Leona coming with them, they had a real chance to save Lord Malleus.
Ruggie had departed from his place beside Leona some time during the conversation and she couldn’t blame him. Her liege was not an opponent to be taken lightly and the hyena beastman had weathered more than his fair share of overblot injuries.
-
- -
-—
— -
Silver’s grip tightened on his sword. It felt like he was treading through dark water, stuck in a nightmare instead of reality. He hoped this was a bad dream.
Was his liege really overblotting again?
“Malleus!” he shouted. “You have to stop this, you’re hurting yourself!”
Malleus cackled wildly, the sound so distinctly agonized Silver winced upon hearing it.
Malleus was half mad with pain, half gone into it, and Silver knew that if he went fully into madness, he wouldn’t be able to return whole. He tensed, gripping tighter on the hilt of his sword. He didn’t want to fight his liege again, but he had to.
“Silver, dear Silver,” Malleus crooned, his unnerving smile only magnified by the inky blot that dripped lacily from the crown of his head, the inky substance that stained his talons and perfumed the air with the scent of bitterness, so potent it was hard to breathe.
‘Where was Sebek?’ he worried. ‘Lilia must have sent her off for reinforcements; he said my job was to keep Malleus from overblotting fully, but… I'm not sure I can.’ As he wondered, a second, darker thought came to his mind.
‘Maybe she left,” his mind whispered treacherously. ‘Maybe she doesn't care at all if Lord Malleus dies, or if you perish here, or if you all suffer. She can just leave and find a new family somewhere else—a better family.’ The blot thickened around him, nearly corporeal, as he sank into his dark thoughts, and Malleus came closer to him, close enough to feel the suffocating aura of his usual power mixed with blot.
“I am not hurting, and I am not afraid, and I am not going to stop."
Claws—dripping blot onto stone that had nearly been scrubbed clean—reached for him with deceptive gentleness.
“I can see that you are distressed.” Malleus smiled, voice radiating false lightness. “Take my hand, and you shall never suffer again.”
Silver barely managed to get a blade between them before Malleus recited that familiar incantation and he was on his knees, struggling to keep his eyes open; his mind a swirling mess of pink and blue, and then nothing.
Silver collapsed to the ground, his grip on his sword slackening as black vines surrounded him, ink on paper.
—
-
.
drip,
drip,
drip,
Plish!
The magestone in Malleus’ magic pen dulled further under the pressure of his blot.
It—
Malleus laughed.
It really was easy—to keep them there, to never be abandoned. All he had to do was find the courage the blot had given him.
—
Riddle had only just made it to the Mirror Chamber by the time their group arrived. She didn’t ask what held him up.
They nodded to each other and walked through that familiar mirror, ringed by thorns and blades and heralded by outstretched wings at the top, as she had a hundred times before.
“I’ll be fine.” Lilia had told her. She knew that he, even with his magic, could not do much in this battle besides distraction. He was still too vulnerable from his recent near-death experience.
When they arrived in Diasomnia, the first thing they had to fight was the air itself.
The common room was cocooned in black briars and the air had taken a dark cast, ink dripped in water, so saturated with blot it nearly knocked her over.
She spotted Malleus at the same time as everyone else, standing in the ruined common room and emanating a terrifying aura. He was still in human form, thankfully. She did not want to fight another dragon without Silver.
Just like last time, Lilia lay at his feet. She hoped for a moment Silver had gotten away before she saw him slumped over beside Lilia.
Leona turned covertly to Riddle. “Hey, I’ll distract the lizard, and you prep your signature spell, kay?” he whispered to Riddle, who nodded.
“Affirmative.”
The rest of them hid—for all the good it would do them, while Leona sauntered out into the open, languid as you please.
“Oi, lizard,” he started. “Hear you’re throwing another tantrum.”
He said some other things, probably taunts or jibes intended to rile Malleus, and yet she was having a hard time paying attention. It felt like every third word was interrupted by the mocking voice of her own consciousness, almost like her thoughts were under another’s control.
She could hear the shaky breaths of Epel next to her, but they were getting farther away with every exhale. They had chosen to hide together, a fact she only somewhat regretted.
What if they failed? What if she failed to protect him? She was the guard here, the trained knight. He shouldn't get hurt, or—night forbid—die, for what was ultimately her mistake.
What if they never freed him? What if they were trapped in an endless parade of dreams again? Endless darkness? She wasn’t sure if she could handle it. Could she handle cutting another part of her liege off of him—wounding him in the process of saving him? Could she handle being too weak to finish him off, even in his best interest? To protect Silver, her brother-in-arms, closer to just being her brother, in truth?
They had been together ever since Lilia had brought him over as a child and continued to be thick as thieves throughout childhood. Who else would understand the mockery of the other children, who threw rocks and shouted cruel words at them? Who would understand the whispers at the castle that they, children too young to understand what it meant, overheard? Who would remember the things they never told Lilia and Malleus of?
Who would spar with her, scold her, seal her secrets and share her heart?
Temper her blade and be sharpened by hers in turn?
Silver, it was always him and her, against the world.
Silver. Who was currently asleep at Malleus’ feet.
Okay.
Snap out of it Sebek.
You have to save Silver and Lilia—all by yourself this time.
She readied her magic pen. Beside her, she could hear Epel making similar preparations. There was not a moment to waste, and it seemed at least one of their number understood that.
The red stone on Riddle's magic pen began to bleed scarlet light.
“Are you ready for your sentence?”
“Wait, will this even work?” Epel whispered doubtfully behind his hand.
“Shush, let him concentrate!” she whispered back furiously.
“Sentence first! Verdict afterward,” Riddle continued, ignoring them in a way she knew was pointed.
He brought down his hand.
“Off with Your Head!”
There was a sharp click as the collar fastened around Malleus’ throat. Malleus stumbled back, startled, and behind him, Silver awoke from his slumber.
“... What?”
Malleus reached up as if to remove it, but the gleaming shackle Riddle had affixed to his neck clung stubbornly, even as Malleus’ own magic swirled in brilliant green embers around it, trying to find a weakness to exploit.
The plan was underway. She exited her hiding spot and gestured for Epel to stay down. “I’ll distract him, come out after I use Living Bolt.” Epel nodded and she ran into the fray.
She went to Leona, who seemed farther from the action. “Leona-senpai, what can I do to help?”
He rolled his eyes. “Just stay there and let your upperclassman handle it, frosh.”
Then Leona raised his hand, and his pen glowed amber with magic.
“I am hunger, I am thirst, I am the one who takes away your future… Kneel down!”
“King’s Roar!”
The very air around him, usually slightly damp with moisture, grew intolerably dry. Even the blot dissipated to sand. Sebek’s own mouth dried until she felt the need to swallow, and she felt the instinctive urge to take a step back.
Malleus did step back, stumbling a few paces, the onslaught near-overwhelming, and she saw a glimpse of hope.
‘Snap’
Riddle’s collar broke as he was thrown into a wall.
Now that Malleus was out of Riddle’s influence, Leona seemed to be struggling to neutralize all his magic.
They were going to lose. If Riddle-senpai and Leona-senpai were struggling, what could she do?
She was sure her hands had paled with tension around her magic pen. Now was her turn to be useful. Lime green magic sparked wildly around her.
“Lightning, pierce the stormy skies! Living Bolt!”
Lightning crackled, and her mind dissolved and solidified.
She burst forward.
There was no time for thought in this state. Just action, and a pure, clear goal:
Get to Malleus.
As she melded back into the flickering form of a girl, she heard a sharp cry of pain pierce the air behind her. Sparks cut across her body, sending convulsions wracking through her as she tried to get her bearings.
She groaned in pain. Transforming into lightning was easy, transforming back was harder. The pain was ameliorated by her unique magic, but not wholly.
When she turned, she was already in the gaze of a predator. Malleus’ emerald eyes sparked and shifted, pinned on her like prey. Noticing her weakness, he forestalled her with a blast of fire.
Unable to dodge, she raised her magic pen with two hands and blocked. Her shield-spell wavered under the strain, but ultimately held—the blast flickered out of existence before it shattered to glimmering shards with a sound like ringing glass.
The spell was hardly high-power by her liege’s standards, and in his overblotted state, it was even more paltry. Her shield had only just held, she knew he noticed, and would press the offensive—all the better to preclude an inconvenient element before she could use her signature spell on him again.
She couldn’t dodge until the spasms on her legs subsided, but when she saw the gleam of a spell matrix she’d seen in her Advanced Enigmics class—a more powerful spell with a wider area of effect, she knew had no choice.
As she lunged to the side, her knee gave out. The spell flickered out and the thing wearing her liege’s face smirked.
“It’s too late. You’ve lost.”
Black blot shone green in the torchlight on his claws as he reached for her entreatingly.
“Won’t you stay with me? With us?” He gestured to Silver, lain still and doll-like again beside Lilia, a pair of slumbering bodies.
She trembled. The stone was so cold against her bare legs where her pants had ripped. Even the torch-lights, which usually blazed with a gentle warmth that drove back the chill, gleamed anew with a cold, false fire.
“No.”
Her voice was tremulous, and yet she could not yield thusly. Betrayal stung cold in her throat, as always, but she steeled her already-iron resolve. “I cannot accept your offer,” she snarled. “I would never take the hand of someone like you.”
It was for a good cause. Malleus wasn’t himself—he’d thank her when he was released from this madness.
If they could free him… a more pessimistic voice murmured in her mind.
Emerald eyes flashed with fury, and she was reminded abruptly that this was a fight—not a negotiation—and that her boldness had, as Lilia put it, ‘surpassed bravery to arrive at foolishness.’
She tried desperately to get up, to flee, but the fall had damaged something vital, and she found she couldn’t move her legs at all.
Before Malleus could get any closer, Epel lunged between them.
From what she could see of him, Malleus had paused.
“Stand aside, Felmier,” he said coolly. “What I do with my retainer is none of your affair.”
Epel refused to move, holding up his magic pen in challenge. Annoyance sparked. What was he doing?
“Very well then. I suppose the two of you shall become the newest members of my ‘kingdom’.”
His shoes ghosted lightly above the ground as he approached them and his voice rose above the din of battle as the others dealt with the distractions he’d placed in their way.
“Spinning wheel of fate, spin the threads of calamity…”
Sebek shook her head, though she knew Epel couldn’t see her.
“What are you doing?” she cried, wrenching herself up on her forearms, legs still frustratingly useless. “Get out of the way!”
She grabbed her own magic pen. Malleus’ incantation would soon be completed, and with it, any chance she had of turning the tide.
Quick as lightning, she came to a conclusion: they would lose this fight. Maybe she would die. Maybe she would simply sleep forever.
Whatever the difference, after these few moments, she’d be useless. If ever there was a move to be made, a spell to be cast, it had to be now.
Magic concentrated in her magic pen, flickering green around her, raising the hairs on her skin and then the hair on her head as an arcane wind whipped around her. She gritted her teeth and her pen flashed viridescent as she prepared her final, futile attack.
Their combined might would be enough to save Malleus.
She had to believe that.
Before she could execute it, a flash of green lightning cracked against the ground, inches from where they both stood.
Epel cried out and stumbled, nearly falling over from the aftershocks.
Malleus still wore that overly composed smile, the unnerving one. Though she couldn’t tell if it meant he was happy or upset, his smile widened minutely when he spoke the final words of his signature spell.
“Fae Malefi-”
“Oh no ya don’t!” Epel lifted his magic pen again, still wincing from the strain.
“Off with Your Head!” Riddle shouted with another quick slash downwards, tossing yet another collar onto Malleus as diversion. It worked; Malleus’ eyes whipped over to Riddle with a snarl.
Sebek felt a bit ashamed that two of her classmates had protected her while she lay prone on the floor. That was her job.
The deep indigo of Epel’s magic pen took on a serene glow.
“Your eyes will close, your breath will still… Sleep Kiss!”
Malleus made to jerk away from the spell, but it had already worked on him. The crystalline coffin encased him, and the last thing Sebek saw of him was a panicked, borderline fearful expression on his face before he succumbed to his sentenced slumber.
It was fittingly karmic, but she couldn’t feel any pleasure in it. That was her liege. She could never derive pleasure from his misery, no matter how many said he deserved it.
She took a moment to catch her breath. Her liege was still entombed within Epel’s signature spell. His peaceful visage in repose, so beautiful it could bring her to tears, was unnaturally still. It felt too close to death for her comfort.
“What will we do—I mean… what can we do for him?” she asked pensively.
Riddle turned to Epel. “How long do you think it will take to wear off?”
“Uhm… I’m not sure.” Epel admitted, his previous boldness suddenly forgotten. “The spell usually lasts as long as I have the power for it, but…” He chanced a look at her. “And… I don’t know how long it’ll hold someone like Malleus.”
“I have an idea.” It was Silver who spoke up this time. “If I go inside his dreams, I may be able to reason with him before he wakes up.”
“Very well,” Riddle agreed. “I trust you’ll be careful. There’s still a large amount of blot in the air. It would be unwise to strain yourself in this environment, and I am not coming back to fight a second overblot.” His brow furrowed. “More to the point, can you even reach him? I recall you saying before that you couldn’t control whose dream you visited.”
“I’m not sure. I would have to fall asleep first. But most times, I can ‘wake’ myself up in the dream, so once I go to sleep I should reach him.”
“Fine. But if it’s been a couple hours and you're not awake yet, we’ll wake you and try a new plan.” He turned to her then.
“Sebek, I know you know how to wake Silver. See to it that he doesn’t fall asleep for too long. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go tell the Headmage about this.” Riddle rubbed his forehead. How the Headmage had neglected to notice an eighth overblot, he didn’t know, but by now it was evident that something had happened, and the headmage would want to know. Plus he wanted to follow proper procedure.
It was obvious that he didn’t want to be here for multiple hours, but they had no idea how long it would take to reach Malleus, and no one wanted to leave only to discover the problem had become unfixable in their absence.
“Okay,” she said. There wasn’t much to say. ‘Thanks for your help.’ was what she would’ve said in any other scenario, but she didn't know if Riddle would receive it well. Night Raven students seemed to dislike the word adamantly.
Silver sat on the couch and leaned back. In a matter of moments, his lashes, gilded by perpetual moonlight, fluttered shut, and he slumped over, breaths evening. Usually it took longer for him to fall asleep.
‘Maybe it was Malleus’ lingering influence,’ she speculated. ‘Or maybe he’d just been trying to stay awake this entire time.’
—
-
.
..
...
Silver awoke in his own dreams, more abstract than most thanks to his long familiarity with the dreamscape; it was composed of pink, purple and blue clouds, like a quiet dawn in the Valley.
He quickly assessed his blot levels. Despite Malleus’ prior enchantment, the vivid green of the magestone was clean and pure.
He closed his eyes and focused on the ambient magic around him, the magic of sleep and waking that was uniquely his.
“To all I have met and all I will meet someday…” he chanted, eyes still closed.
“Meet in a Dream”
He flickered out of view, and then into another dream. It took a while—he went to Lilia’s dream and managed to rouse him. It turned out after Malleus' spell had been broken, the old faerie had just been sleeping for real.
But finally, he came to dream of a stone ruin covered in ivy. This, he knew with certainty, was Malleus' dream. The very air whispered in an arcane tongue. It featured all his favorite things, and after so long in the dream realm, he knew what the dreams of his closest companions felt like.
Malleus’ was like creeping ivy and the pressure of a storm, always on the edge of tipping over into rain.
There was a soft sob that rang through the hollow building—incapable of sheltering more than the weeds that grew in the cracks. Though he supposed the weeds would be unable to grow were the structure not fundamentally broken. Were the roof repaired, it would smother them with abundant shade, and the restored floor would leave them nowhere to grow roots.
In the middle of the ruin knelt a small black-clad shape, Malleus, crying beneath the cracked awning exposed to daylight, arms wrapped around himself as if he feared shattering.
Silver’s heart twisted. ‘How to reach him?’
The road to get there was perilous, carved with briar thorns like dark embroidery, Malleus didn’t notice him as he approached, too taken with his own tears.
“Malleus?” Silver fought his way to him through the thorns. “Malleus!”
Malleus’ head rose. “… Silver?”
“Malleus! Just let me come over there! Please.”
The thorns abruptly receded.
“Silver?”
“Malleus!” He felt like a repeating spell gone awry, but he couldn't say anything more.
‘What were you thinking?’ and ‘I was so worried,’ and ‘are you okay?’ spun in his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice any of them.
Instead he only clutched Malleus harder, absorbing through proximity the startled movements of his body and the gradual relaxing as those slender hands, so familiar and dear to him, came to rest on his back and head, embracing him back, until he was held tight to a dark-clad chest, and though he could feel the shudder of Malleus’ renewed sobs through their contact, he deigned not to comment.
“It’s okay,” he said, and stroked his liege’s back as Lilia often did for him as a child. Malleus took a deep breath and seemed to calm. “It’s okay,” he repeated. “We love you.” Silver could feel a shuddering breath at those words. “…and we will stay with you as long as we are able to.”
The dream fell, and both dreamers awoke at last.
—-
-—
- -
.. .
. ..
When Malleus’ consciousness stirred, it was to a rush of noise.
“D’ya really think he’s good to let out now?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“But shouldn’t we be a bit more sure?”
“He’s waking up now! Epel, remove this spell and release my liege posthaste!"
“Fine, fine. Fairest Queen, see if I save your life again.”
The brilliant crystal structure surrounding him abruptly vanished, and he stumbled out on shaky legs.
“My liege!”
“Lord Malleus!”
When he nearly fell, Silver was there to steady him. Malleus nodded gratefully, trying to ignore the voice of his other knight; he wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.
Lilia appeared on his other side.
“We will be talking about this later, Malleus.”
He nodded, but despite Lilia’s stern tone, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but lightness.
Because Lilia’s tone had betrayed his concern. At the very least, Lilia loved him enough for worry. That was more than he could ask for after all he’d done—all he'd tried to do.
Malleus stared at them anew.
We love you.
Silver’s smile was like a sliver of the moon itself. Whether waning or waxing, he couldn’t tell, but he wanted—desperately—to be able to gaze at it again. Malleus had no idea how he’d been able to acquire it. Stars knew he didn’t deserve it.
His heart ached, but it was a good pain, the bittersweet sorrow of a promised parting.
He was lucky. Incredibly lucky. But if it would all depart in an instant, less time that it took to blink—was he really so fortunate?
He—he just wanted to keep them. When he appointed Silver and Sebek as his guards when they were all children, it wasn’t even that he wanted them to serve him, but that he wanted to keep them close.
Grandmother didn’t approve of him ‘whiling his time away,’ as she put it, with a human child, and half-human wasn’t much better.
So he made them his retainers, those young children with stars in their eyes, and none could gainsay the thought of them together; and then they were training in earnest—to make him proud, to protect him, and he felt… loved.
He felt cherished, like he mattered, in the only way he could matter to them—as their prince.
He was enveloped in a warm embrace, familiar as the night and warm as only she could be.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.
He looked at her, lost. Hadn’t she wanted to leave? Wasn’t this his fault again? If she had wanted to leave before, shouldn't this be the final thing she had been waiting for?
No one who was afraid of him the first time he overblotted would want to stick around after a second.
Wouldn’t she leave now?
Still, she was so warm, and at least for now, she was here, close enough to touch, to reach for.
Tears pricked his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry as well,” Silver said, though no one knew what he’d done wrong.
“I apologize for the misunderstanding!” she shouted, bowing frantically.
Malleus and Silver looked at her, confused.
“I don’t want to leave!” she cried.
“What?” They both gaped at her, utterly dumbfounded.
Malleus had overblotted—he was still processing that it might’ve all been for nothing. Maybe he should’ve taken Rosehearts’ offer of help. It would’ve been less humiliating, to be sure. Silver hadn’t expected it either, no matter how much he’d consoled himself with this exact scenario.
The others sighed. It was true, this was the best case scenario, but what about all the trouble they'd gone through for a simple misunderstanding?
Riddle spoke first. “We’ll take our leave now.” He turned to Malleus, who was still hugging Sebek with a look of disbelieving shock. “We have a meeting today, 4:00 sharp in the Mirror Chamber—don't be late.”
With that, he departed. Leona gave a lackadaisical wave as he left, dragging Epel—who waved to Sebek—out by the collar.
When the others had made their goodbyes, the four of them were left alone in the Diasomnia common room.
Lilia hugged him tightly. “Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, tone somewhere between a soldier who had just come back from a long war and an enraged mother of three.
Malleus nodded, slightly cowed by Lilia’s promised wrath.
“Welcome back, Lord Malleus.” Silver said, as gentle as ever. His dawn-bright eyes shone with relief.
Lilia crossed his arms. “Now I hope this has been a valuable lesson on not jumping to conclusions.”
“I don’t understand.” Malleus turned his confused gaze on Lilia. “Why would you give your blessing for Sebek to leave us if she did not wish to?”
“Oh, I don’t know! I was simply telling her that if she really couldn’t stand it anymore—being your guard and keeping up her studies, or if she really needed a different path, that we still loved her and we wouldn’t stand in the way of her growth.”
Sebek shook her head frantically, stubborn. “I don’t—I wouldn't,” she vowed fiercely. “I care deeply for all of you.”
Lilia laughed. ‘What a good child she was,’ he thought fondly.
"Then… Why did you take down Lord Malleus’ portrait?” Silver wondered.
Sebek’s face flushed. “I got a new portrait. With all of us. A family portrait.”
Malleus and Silver exchanged glances. “Oh.”
Snerk. Lilia muffled a chuckle behind his hand. He’d never let them live that down.
Silver curved his arm over Sebek’s left shoulder, drawing himself close, Lilia jumped in on the other side, and the three of them surrounded Malleus in a giant hug.
Malleus tensed, then relaxed into their familiar warmth. They were all safe now. He could figure out what to do with the time that they had left.
Whatever happened now, they would be okay.