Coalescence

Chapter 4: Learning About His Past

Maxwell woke up the next day and looked at his bedside table to see a piece of parchment precariously dropped there. He saw Jameson's seal and cracked it open, lazily reading it until he got to the mention of his son. He sat up and reread the letter with a serious vigor before rushing awake and riding to Jamesons facility. Even though it was the early hours of the day, he knocked on the door before entering. As he scanned the empty room, he felt the typical pressure setting in. He looked against the opposite wall and saw Malcolm laying down, occasionally turning in his sleep.

He walked towards the other side of the room and swung the door open, the condensed air pressure in the room slamming it against the wall and immediately waking Jameson. He rubbed his forehead in confusion before he looked up to see Maxwell leaning against the doorway.

"You needed me?" Maxwell asked. Jameson quickly stood up in response. "Also, we advised you against sleeping without a door or window open. You'll wake up with headaches."

"Yes, well, I felt that I had to keep close for safety reasons and I have a bad memory like the rest of us." He let out a small and weak chuckle as he approached Maxwell. "So, the obvious issue." He hinted, nodding through the wall at Malcolm.

"Yes, his past." Maxwell rubbed his forehead with his palm before waving Jameson through the door and into the main room. They sat on chairs opposite each other a good distance from Malcolm so as to not preemptively wake him. "So, what happened exactly?"

"He passed my training exam, first of all." Maxwell raised one eyebrow in response. "Then to finish the exam, hit my last soldier with this new attack that he hadn't previously demonstrated. The attack blinded and otherwise debilitated all but a few of my men and almost me as well, but right after he fell unconscious and has been asleep since."

"That's wonderful and all, but when did he awaken the curse?"

"While I had him lifted up to inspect him for injuries, he showed the purple flames and absorbed my pressure field. He fell to the ground with a dim coating of the flames before dispelling them." Maxwell's face grew dim with a somber grief and he pulled up his sleeve to reveal the mark on his wrist of his Fey curse. A triangle with curved sides and a coiled serpent in the center gave off an almost bioluminescent purple glow that lit up their part of the room.

"So, have you checked for his mark yet?" Jameson shook his head in response.

"No, I wrote to you and fell asleep. Feel free to check of your own accord."

"I'll ask him when he wakes up. Also, about command-" Jameson raised his fist and cut him off as Maxwell let his head hang.

"I'm not telling them- yet." Maxwell looked up with a glimmer of hope. "I don't plan to file a report. No one will know but you, me, and my men, and we both know that my men know better." Jameson gave a warm smile that made Maxwell feel a little better about the situation. They let out a mutual chuckle and were disturbed by a rustle across the room from Malcolm. Maxwell lowered his sleeve and they both got up and walked over to Malcolms side. He rubbed his eyes and looked back and forth between his father and mentor.

"I can only imagine how drastically I've messed up. What happened after I lost consciousness?" Jameson chuckled before telling him the story. Maxwell took the stage after Malcolm turned to him with a questioning look.

"I'm here to tell you the truth of your origin." He sat on the ground next to Malcolm, Jameson walking to the outside well to get a glass of water for each of them. They all sat in a small triangle and Maxwell began telling his story.

In his youth, Maxwell had been playing with his childhood friends in the woods around their small town. One of his friends' mothers ushered a warning to them as they ran off to be back before dark. As children would, they didn't listen, and continued to play in the forest until dusk fell.

Maxwell specifically had gotten lost and separated from the rest of his group, left stranded in the forest as everything faded to dark. He tried to find his sense of direction and guide himself back home, but he still never found a way out. As he ran through the woods he heard rustling in the bushes behind him, and a Fey appeared.

He fell to the ground in fear and tried to crawl away from the creature, but was instead steadily pursued. The Fey whispered and snickered things in its own language as Maxwell backed into a tree. The Fey's face neared his and Maxwell's breathing got heavier; in an effort of desperation he tried to quickly stand up and run away, but the Fey grabbed his arm and scratched his wrist.

As he fought to free his arm from the grasp of the creature, a dim blue flash of light appeared to his right, and a dryad came to blast the creature off of him. As she tended to his wounds and spoke with him, she described a certain herb that could be used to heal Fey injuries. She handed him a large bundle of the herbs and lifted him up. She guided him out to his town again and left him on his way with a final message,

"They won't heal you, but can potentially remove the curse from your bloodline beyond you. I pray for the sanctity of your successors."

"Judging by Jameson's report, it doesn't seem like it worked all too well, but in turn you've manifested something much more powerful." Maxwell accepted the water that was handed to him and drank it all in one gulp. Malcolm looked up at him in astonishment, taking slow and thoughtful sips of his drink.

"A report that'll never be published, not if I have any say in it." Jameson continued. "You'll remain here for the time being and we'll work on refining your Art, and when we feel that you're ready we'll let you move on." Jameson and Maxwell nodded in agreement coercing Malcolm to do the same.

"So when does my training begin?"