Flashbacks
Max squinted at the book in front of him, but was frustrated to find he was unable to read it. With a huff, he put his glasses back on. He hated that he now needed glasses, even if only to read and work by, but the years of engineering with tiny components had taken their toll. He had started to make plans for some sort of glass lenses he could fit over his eyes, but Doctor Dell had claimed it was impossible when asked for his professional opinion.
Max was sitting at the desk on the first floor of Cedric's maintenance shop. He was now running the shop, as well as helping his father run the family mining business now that the zelmite mine was in full production mode. He'd been working on the accounts all day, and still after all this time he couldn't believe that paper work was so boring.
Since he'd started doing this kind of work two years ago, Max had been wondering if this was why for most of the time he'd known him his father was so grim. Handling work like this all day for years on end was enough to make anyone miserable as sin. But he had to persevere; he was getting married tomorrow, and he had to be up to date with his work before he could take any extended time off. To this end he'd been working flat out for a week to clear his desk and prepare for the wedding, even with his father's surprisingly generous offer to relive some of his workload- he had, after all, been married himself once.
Despite his determination to continue, Max's concentration was drawn away from work as fate exploited his greatest weakness- Monica.
The summer evening was dark by now, and the lampposts only gave out a soft light, but the slightest glimpse of his beloved dashing through the chilly street grabbed his attention more potently than an explosion. Max instantly abandoned his work in favour of watching the former princess make a beeline for Morton's Sundries across the road. He observed her through the shop window haggling briefly over some supplies- a gift that Max had taught her. Being former royalty, Monica was used to just paying the price of any given item she might need without a second thought. Max on the other hand had learnt most of his early business acumen from Cedric and Donny, and haggling for a price was second nature by the time he was ten. He'd done his best to pass that knowledge onto Monica, but from the looks of how much gilda she was handing over to Morton, either she had a long way to go or was too stubborn to take on board even half of what he'd taught her.
Monica stepped out of the shop with her purchases. She looked over to the maintenance shop contemplatively, as if thinking of going in to say hi. Max looked around and was pleased to see there were no other chairs in the room. He settled back hopefully, anticipating Monica charging in and commandeering his lap for a seat, where upon they would kiss and cuddle and talk about how much they loved each other and all the other things that would make other people sick.
Alas, Monica seemed to think it better to let Max get on with his work because she took off down the main street back to the house. Max watched disappointedly as the girl vanished, taking a length of thick hide and a handful of unknown bones.
As Max prepared himself for a long evening of sulking and working, he wondered what on earth Monica wanted with those items. As well as haggling, Max had also taught her a bit about inventing. Perhaps she was making something, but what she planned to build with those and at this time…
Sometimes Max wondered if he'd ever really understand what went on in her head. But he didn't mind that; he'd love her just the same no matter what was on her mind at any given moment.
It had been five years now since their adventure to defeat Emperor Griffin had come to a close, and the long stretches of time between Monica's visits had been torture. It was like she awoke a special feeling in him whenever she was around, as if he was never really awake without her. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to be separated from her now. She fascinated him- she made him feel so alive.
'Not to mention kept me alive,' he considered with a slight smile.
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Ten months ago
Arthur's fist was like a small demolition ball, yet Max never saw it coming. One moment he was trying to read the windup monsters movements, next he was being punched off his feet as it lunged forward faster than he'd anticipated.
The world lurched as Max tried to focus on his enemy before its massive lance ran him through. Despite his hazy vision it was clear he'd never be able to fend off the killing blow. It would take a full blown miracle to save him now.
There was no miracle coming, but there was a guardian angel.
Monica appeared out of nowhere. With precision and quick thinking that left Max reeling again, she smashed a bottle of mineral water on the machine, used her magic to freeze it solid and trap its lance arm in place, and while it was trying to free itself forced her sword up into the vents on its rear. The machine let out a mechanical scream and steam shot out of its ears as Monica wrenched the blade about, smashing gears and clockwork counterweights. The dirty iron construct stopped hovering and clattered to the ground.
"You alright, Max?" she asked, holding out a hand whilst observing another monster approaching them.
"Yeah, fine," he got up without assistance, disappointed to have needed her help to take on a single monster. Even after so long his sheltered years in Palm Brinks held him back in battle. He wondered how he had survived that vast adventure to save the world just those few four and something years ago.
Then he remembered the answer was right next to him.
"Neither of us can take a bone lord head on," Monica explained matter-of-factly as the bony simulacrum of a man with a huge cleaver stomped forward. "I'll get in close and distract it. You get behind and attack. If it turns on you, attack once then dodge back; that sword moves too fast for a second blow, okay?"
"Sure."
If it hadn't had been for Monica he'd never have survived that quest- would never have even started it. The moment Flotsam had demanded he hand the Atlamillia over, Max, terrified for his life, would have given in without question. It had been Monica who'd stopped him. The merest sound of her voice, even before he'd actually met her, made him remember his courage, and he'd faced down the clown and fought his way to the outside world. From there he would have been lost, floundering with no idea what to do, but again Monica had been there to guide him.
And here she was, even now giving him the direction her needed to succeed, and not by taking charge or ordering him around, humiliating him with her vast knowledge against his soring lacking one. Just like when that adventure had started, she'd joined his efforts, becoming a team member- a partner- instead of a leader, looking as much to Max for solutions to their problems as offering her own insights.
Now they were in Mount Gundor; volunteer militia working to destroy the monsters that had been raiding the town. Monica could have probably dealt with it single handed if need be. She probably would have liked to. Since her self-imposed exile from her own time after the election fiasco, Monica had been at a loose end. She found it hard adjusting to a new life in Palm Brinks, and feeling too ashamed to return to her own land was clearly a heavy burden for her. And yet she could always manage a smile for Max. She gushed gratefully when Gerald had permitted her to take a room in the Zelmite mansion to call home, and had graced Max with her friendly companionship ever since. Even now, she'd welcomed Max's company on the monster fighting expedition, happy to admit she might need some help rather than go without him. And despite her superior skill and knowledge of monsters she hadn't put Max down once- hadn't assumed authority over him. She saw him as an equal, even as Max felt inadequate next to her. At one point he had voiced his concerns that he might be slowing her down, but she'd dismissed the idea without discussion.
"Max, you've taken out a giant clown robot, a rampaging butterfly, sea dragons, hordes of monsters and an all-powerful demon. When it comes to battle, you're not allowed to be uncertain," she said, before adding in a more sincere tone "and I wouldn't want to go into battle without you at my side."
A guilty part of him was glad that she'd left her time for good. He hated that she was still upset by it and hoped she would come to terms with it quickly. He'd do anything to help her, and anything to make her comfortable in her new home… but he wouldn't want to lose her again for the world.
In less than a minute the bone lord was dead. Max and Monica had defeated it together.
"That wasn't so bad," Max wiped sweat from his brow.
"There's still plenty more to come," Monica pointed out as a squall of feral heat fairies materialised out of the gloom. Eight against two- good odds.
"You ready for this, partner?" Monica grinned. Max met her eyes and found himself grinning back.
"Sure am, partner," he replied.
Then they hefted their weapons and charged headlong into the battle.
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Max wondered just what he'd be without Monica. The thought was both inconceivable and terrifying. But it didn't matter. Monica was here and after tomorrow he wouldn't have to be without her ever again.
Max looked at the clock. He frowned- it was broken.
"After five years, I think it's about time I fixed that," he muttered, before burying himself in work again, rushing to finish.