Chapter Two
Never to See the Sky Again

The joyous news of the Macabre heir traveled throughout the social ladders like wild fire. They were one of the oldest magical families, and among the most powerful in their society. There had been talks of the bloodline failing which would leave the Spellbinder or Vonkarumah names at the top, but now their legacy was secured for the time being. The months after her birth passed by with no complications as their daughter started to grow. However, he found that there was one problem he hadn't anticipated: He was reduced to a hopeless fool when it came to caring for the child. He had never dealt with such a small person before, never was briefed in the art of caring for an infant. Ambrosia had proven to be a patient teacher; he was instructed over and over in the many arts of caring for a baby: feeding, burping, diaper changing, and the most curious task of all… baby talk. He knew how to do all these strange things after a few days, but found it impossible to determine when the girl wanted what. So many times he'd been burping instead of babbling, and feeding instead of changing. Though she had been calm with him it finally caught up to her and Ambrosia's patience had spent itself. She rounded on him when he was holding a bottle in one hand and being pummeled by tiny fists.

"Moloculo!" She shouted, anger unmasked in her voice. "Why can't you just learn these simple things? I can't be here to do this all the time!"

"What the devil does she want? I am no mind reader! I think the child lives to berate me!" He fumed.

"Honestly, I don't know who's more helpless, you or Morgana." She snapped as she snatched the baby from him and slung her over her shoulder, patting the child's back soothingly.

He fought down his anger and bit back his temper. She had been excessively cross with him lately and this was the last straw. He was going to find out why.

"Ambrosia, I demand you tell me what's going on."

"Oh?" Her eyes flashed. "You demand it do you?" She frowned.

"As your husband I order you to tell me why you've snapped at me for everything thing I've done!"

"Because you've done it wrong! How can I…" She stopped herself suddenly and removed her eyes from him.

"How can you what?" He confronted her. Enough was enough, he was the master of this castle and she had to respect him.

"I'm sorry okay…" She said in defeat, her eyes not leaving the floor. "Can we please just move on?"

"No. You will tell me now." He flared sternly. His temper was regaled as the worst most had ever seen, but it was smothered when he saw a tear escape her moist eyes.

"I didn't want to tell you… you will be so angry with me… but I couldn't bare it." She breathed meekly.

"What have you done?" He was stunned. Ambrosia had always been such a strong woman, to see her like this… he couldn't help but stare. What caused this sadness? Had she been unfaithful to him? Had she been seduced by a young warlock? Was… was Morgana even his? The baby burped and Ambrosia slid her off her shoulder to cradle the content bundle in her arms. The way she looked at the child, tears spilling out of her eyes, he knew he wouldn't like what she had to tell him.

"She was dead." She stated sadly. "Morgana was another still birth…"

"But she's here now, that can't be…"

"Moloculo… I gave her my life. I brought her back by sacrificing myself, I couldn't loose another one."

"I… I don't…" He watched her eyes rise to him miserably.

"She'll live, she'll grow up and be able to live her own life… but I will die before she will be able to remember me."

"Where would you learn such a spell! Why would you do this?!" He knew if his heart was beating it would have broken, but he felt the pain all the same. Ambrosia placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You have given me so much, and I'm devastated that I have to leave you both so soon… but I had to. She's our child, she's our future. I've done all I've ever dreamed of and more since I've met you… I've lived my life."

"There must be a way to undo this…"

"No! Morgana would die!" Her pleading green eyes bore deep into him.

Lose his child or the woman he loved more than anything? That was his decision? Was there no way around it? He put his arm around her.

"There has to be a way."

She smiled weakly.

"You'll be fine. You'll be a wonderful father of that I'm sure. As long as you love her enough for both of us she'll never be wanting."

"How long…" He wasn't able to finish, how could he?

"Not too long, I suspect. I'll make it to her Succession Ritual, but not much longer…"

"That's only a few months away!"

"If I make it that long…"

"Ambrosia, I can't raise her without you… I can't be with out you."

She smiled and ran her porcelain hand through is black hair.

"Don't be silly, you're the mighty Moloculo Macabre, of course you can. I know she'll be the top of her class at the academy and the happiest girl in the world with you looking after her."

"I won't give up. I will find a way to save you, a way to keep you both here. I won't lose you."

The months moved by with the careless haste that rushes through the world when something horrible is to happen. He spent the majority of his days in the Academy's extensive library searching volume after thick volume to prevent the impending death of his beloved. In the time he spent away, Morgana was growing still and sprouting a head of black hair laced with white strips. She had begun crawling and Ambrosia had seen to the preparation of her talisman. A ruby necklace had been selected to serve as the containment for her magic, just like her mother's. He worked through day and night unwilling to deliver his wife to the fate that wanted to claim her. At times when he saw no hope he remembered when he had first seen her, so young, so misleading. She stood out amongst the ghoulish faces of Eldritch Academy, a delicate flower in a sea of thorns. Though she appeared to resemble a "normal" she practically radiated with her unmatched gift for spell casting. He was smitten after the first time her eyes had graciously spared their gaze for him… the pull of her eyes… the sound of her voice… the taste of her kiss… he would not be parted from them.

So often he would return to Macabre castle late, too tired to search anymore. She was usually asleep by the time he arrived; and he found her perfectly pale complexion giving into her weakness. The pale that haunted her now was nothing more than death's hand slowly stripping life from her. She had asked him to give up his search, to devote the rest of her time to being with them, but he would not hear it. He would save her.

By the time Morgana's Succession came, Ambrosia could barely stand on her own. The ceremony was the most important of a witch or warlock's life. When a true magic user is born, their magical source is released into the world where it finds its host to incubate in. A year after birth, when the magic is ripened, a small portion can be called back by a Grand Master Warlock, to be captured and sealed in a talisman. The talisman is then presented to the child for them to possess so that they can use their magic as they were intended too.

Ambrosia had been so happy that day, but he could not rejoice fully. He knew the price this day had cost. An extensive guest list had been sent and all came to witness the Macabre heir's Rite of Succession. The child had grown so quickly, her green eyes open and wide with wild curiosity, her striped hair growing in steadily. He still had not perfected the art of child care, he suspected he never would, but he had become more proficient in his diagnosis of the symptoms. One evening after the celebration he had come home from another late night at the library and found Ambrosia propped up in bed waiting for him.

"You should be resting." He reprimanded her.

"There'll be plenty of time for that soon enough."

"Don't talk like that. I'm going to save you. What good is magic if it can't save one life?" He said shortly.

"Please, I don't have the strength to bicker as we used to. I'm afraid the sport has been quite drained from me.." She sighed, the dark circles under her eyes making her look twice her true age.

"Ambrosia…"

"Moloculo, just come to bed. Let me look at you for a while."

He moved sadly through the darkness that had been creeping into his home with each passing day. As he climbed in to rest beside her, she placed her fragile head on his chest. Neither of them spoke, there was no need, all that could have been said had already been spoken. Instead, they fell into sleep holding each other like children lost in the woods.

It was a day like any other when he came home to find her gone. She was not in bed, or in the nursery. The governess he had hired to watch Morgana in his wife's illness informed him that the Mistress Macabre had gone for a walk. How she could walk was beyond him and he did not hesitate to reveal his fury for letting her go unattended. He searched the Castle grounds like a bat out of hell, furious and fearful. Along the edge of the land he found her scarf discarded among the branches of the gnarled trees. He took the soft fabric in his ghastly hands as his mismatched eyes fell on the nearest structure. The normal's village. Had the barbarians taken her? His rage fueled him as he broke the treaty that his ancestors had wrought and descended on the town like a storm. It did not take long for him to find where they had taken her. However by the time he found her it was too late. She was gone, dead. The normals felt the rage of a Macabre for the first time in sixty years that night. Had he not been consumed by his heartbroken fury he would have discovered that a normal had found her collapsed and brought her back to try to help her. They didn't know her illness was not to be cured by their primitive medicines.

He returned to the castle that night covered in blood and carrying the lifeless form of the one he loved dearer than himself. He looked like the creatures of old, animalistic and insane with grief and rage. The hatred of the normals rekindled in him as he was forced to bury the only person who had loved him for who he was and not the power his name let him inherit. The castle shook with his anguished howls and the villagers answered to his devastation with lives.

The funeral was on a dark day, the clouds crying for the world's greatest loss. He stood beside the open grave, the coffin ready to be lowered, Morgana quietly resting in his arms, and all the high members of society watching on sadly. No tears escaped him. No dry sobs, he stared on at the ritual blankly as their child pawed at his ebony cape, her green eyes looking for answers to questions she couldn't speak, things she could not comprehend. Those eyes were all that was left of Ambrosia in this world apart from the lifeless objects she left behind. He felt the days the Lord Macabre smiled were gone. Lost under six feet of soil and nailed in a thick prison of wood, never to see the sky again.

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Darkwing Duck and all related characters are © Disney
The rest are mine.
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Ehhhhhhhh Happy Valentine's Day? Heh. Nice and depressing update for you to counter all the lovey dovey stuff I guess. Poor Moloculo and Morgana. Things just keep getting bumpier from here. I'll try to keep the updates on this steady (though not every other day... I've had these two chapters sitting around all typed up for a while so that's why they're so close together.) Well, Happy Valentine's Day I guess, I've driven through nasty snow and skidded out of control a few times to spend mine at work, hopefully yours will be nicer.

XOXOXO

Kitty