Title: A Future Undone - Part 5
Description: Venturing into a mental landscape, Marc confronts the Shade of Grima locked within Falchion. But can he overcome his fears and defeat this final curse left by the Fell Dragon?
Note: Final chapter of Marc focused mini-arc. Takes place one month following the events of A Future Disowned. Spoiler Warning, if you have not read A Future Disowned and wish to avoid spoilers for that story, turn back now.
Marc stood in a smoke filled chamber. He could not recall how he'd gotten there. Nor did he it slowly become conscious of his surroundings. No it was as if he had suddenly appeared there. The last thing he remembered was sitting down before Naga. Her hands had begun to glow, and the next thing he knew...
…he was here.
Must be where I'm supposed to be. Wherever here is. Marc gazed around. It all felt so real, so unlike the dream-landscape he'd been expecting. Then again, dreams always felt real until you woke up.
No sound could be heard except for the crackle of flames and the howl of the wind. As far as he could tell he was in a hallway, but the veil of smoke made it impossible to determine the exact location. Further ahead he could make out a doorway, fire burning beyond.
Slowly Marc walked towards the light, a strange feeling of deja vu overtaking him. He passed through the archway and into the chamber beyond. It was the palace throne room, but not as he'd left it back in Ylisstol. Rubble and flames filled the chamber, blake smoke curling through the archways. Through the collapsed ceiling he could see nothing but black skies and the firey glow of the city bellow burning.
"This… this is my time… but how…" Marc froze, noticing dozen or more dark shapes slumped throughout the chamber before him. Fear gripped him as he approached. He didn't to look, but he found himself yet drawn to them.
In the center of the chamber lay the bodies of dozens of Ylissean soldiers, and amongst them the bodies of his friends. Blood yet pooled from gastly mortal wounds, their dead eyes staring back at him. Judging him.
It was only then that Marc noticed the blood staining his own clothes. The blood covering his own hands. It was still warm. And he knew. Knew without a shadow of a doubt who had killed them.
"No… this isn't real… this isn't real…" Marc fell to his knees and clutched at his head. He began to shake, tears stinging his eyes. "This never happened… I didn't kill them… this didn't happen… I-"
"Oh, and that makes you any less guilty?"
Marc froze, a terrified shiver running down his back. Suddenly the scene before him pulled away and he was at the Dragon Table. Violet torches cast long shadows. Looming before him was the black, obsidian throne. Seated on it was a figure cloaked his shadow. His hood was up, eyes like embers burning deep inside.
Grima.
A cold laugh echoed the chamber, the sound turning the very blood in Marc's veins to ice.
"How noble and courageous of you, Marc. You didn't kill your little friends. What a hero," Grima mocked, a faintest glimmer of white teeth flashing from within shadow. "I'm sure the countless others you killed can rest easy knowing you value the lives of your friends greater than theirs"
Something was different about Grima's voice. Before it had been his father's voice behind the hood, but now… now it sounded like several others were speaking in unison. One of them, cold, raspy, inhuman, had to be the Fell Dragon's true voice. But the other…
The other sounded like his own voice. As if he was part of him.
This isn't real. Remember, this isn't real! This isn't Grima. It's just a shadow. Don't let him get to you, a voice in Marc's head screamed again and again. Urging him to stand, to do something. But he couldn't will himself to move, his entire body frozen with fear.
Grima's shade stood, wisps of smoky shadows rolling around him. "Really, I am surprised they can even look you in the eye, knowing what you did," he continue. Descending the steps, the shade began to circle around him and sneered. "And we both know how much you enjoy it. The killing. How powerful it makes you feel."
"I-I'm not… I'm not afraid of you," Marc stammered. At last he willed himself to stand, a hand gripping Falchion's hilt. The blade range out as he drew it, point aimed at Grima. His hands were shaking, the entire length of the weapon trembling.
"Oh, are you now? Your expression says otherwise." Grima laughed. "Honestly, I am surprised how easy it was to manipulate you. To play into your doubts and fears. I would have thought you stronger than that. Then again, you always were a disappointment."
Don't listen to him, he's just trying to get to you. Don't let him! Marc told himself, trying to steady his hands.
Grima's footsteps echoed through the chamber as he continued to circle him. "Yes… you were always quite the disappointing servant. A weak spell caster. A average tactician. Ever the failure. Nothing like your sister. If it wasn't for the leverage you provided over her, I would have done away with you long ago," Grima taunted.
"Y-Your… your taunts aren't about to scare me," Marc managed. He swallowed, trying to sound brave. "Mother and Father killed, you're nothing but a shadow. And I-I'm going to finish the job."
"Are you now?" Grima asked. He stopped, turning to face Marc fully now. His entire stance seemed to change, seeming to loom over Marc, his entire body radiating a barely contained menace. "Of course, you came here to destroy me. I don't know what's funnier, thinking you could possibly make up for your mistakes..."
Grima's eyes flashed, flames flickering in the depths of his cowl. Then in an instant he'd closed the gap between them. A sword had appeared in his hand, it taking a second for Marc to register that it was looked just like Falchion, or at least, how Falchion had appeared during his time as Grima's servant.
Marc swept Falchion up to intercept Grima's attack just in time. Sparks rained down on his head, his knees nearly buckling under the force of the blow. Before he could recover Grima was already launching his next attack, moving far faster than any normal human could. Again and again their blades met, Marc barely managing to keep up. Time and time again he thought Grima would break through, only to make it just in time to stave off certain death. Each close call brought fresh pangs of fear. He couldn't keep up. Grima would kill him. He couldn't keep up!
As if from far away Marc heard his mother's voice speaking from some half-remembered memory of his training with her. "Do not let fear control you. Concentrate. Focus on what needs to be done."
Narrowing his eyes, Marc poured his entire focus into his own movements, ignoring everything besides himself and his foe. It didn't matter how close each blow came, all that mattered what that he was still alive.
For what felt like an eternity their blades met, metal gleaming in the pale light. Stepping in, their blades met in a final clash. Grima bore down against him as he strained with all his might to hold his ground. Grima pressed forward, Marc's back foot sliding along the smooth floor. A taunting smile flashed from the shadows of Grima's hood.
"Naga didn't tell you did she? That if you fail your body will be mine for the taking!" Grima laughed, Marc's eyes going wide with shock. In this moment of hesitation Grima acted, shoving Marc back with a burst of strength. He faltered a step, desperately trying to keep his balance.
"Don't you worry, when I'm in control I'll see to your family. Even if I lack the strength to kill them, they will never be able to lift a finger against their son!" Grima shouted, swinging his blade before Marc could recover. There was a clash of steel and Marc toppled to the floor, skidding back along the polished stone.
Ignoring the pain Marc dragged himself to his feet, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for air.
Again his mother's words echoed in his head. "Keep control of your breathing. Breathing is the key to remain focused" Gritting his teeth, Marc forced himself to slow his breath until his chest rose and fell at a steady rhythm.
Reading Falchion , Marc held his ground as Grima launched another string of attacks. Falchion moved in a blur, intercepting each of the Fell Dragon's attacks, nudging them aside so they missed by the narrowest of margins. "When fighting a foe who is both stronger and faster you must never try to match him head on. Fight defensively, and only strike when an opening presents itself." The tactic was one of economy of motion, smaller movements fast enough to keep pace with his opponent, while still burning as little energy as possible. While little more than a delaying action, he had no choice but to hold out as long as he could.
Hold out until Grima make a mistake.
"Give up, you know it is inevitable that you die here. You're nothing but a child. Insignificant. Feeble. Weak. Worthless. To think you ever thought you could beat me!" Grima snarled. For a split second electricity crackled. Then a blast of lightning split the air, Marc barely managing to twist out of the way of the attack.
Dammit, that was close! Marc's heart hammered in his chest. He should have expected something like that. Overconfident as he was, Grima was not above trickery to defeat his foes.
"Never count on your foes to play fair. And do not consider yourself above deceit when it comes to a battle of life and death."
An instant later Grima was on him, Marc barely managing to deflect the avalanche of blows. Each impact jarred his arm, forcing him another step back. Grima forced him blade now, than whipped his sword around to hack at Marc's neck. Marc leapt back, narrowly avoiding the slash. He skidded a step on the slick floor. Seeing his advantage, Grima closed the gap. The Fell dragon smirked, so sure of his victory. He saw that Marc was too close to avoid the attack by leaping back or dodging to either side.
A smile tugged at Marc's lips. He'd taken the bait.
Rather then dodge away, Marc stepped towards Grima, throwing himself into a dive. Sailing under the attack, he slashed at Grima's legs. Committed to his own attack, the Fell Dragon could not change directions in time, Falchion's tip drawing a red line.
Bracing himself with a hand, Marc leapt to his feet, whirling to intercept the counterattack Grima hurried to muster against him. In his haste he acted too soon, unable to put his full strength behind the blow. And that left Grima open. Transferring his weight into Falchion's tip, he drove Grima's blade down. Before the Fell Dragon could react he twisted back around, slashing at his shoulder with every ounce of strength he had. Falchion fell in a blinding arc- and deflected harmlessly off of Grima, not even so much as cutting his clothes.
Marc staggered a step, eyes wide in shock. No. No, no no no, no! Pain blossomed in his stomach as Grima drove a knee into his gut, doubling him over. Silver flashed in the corner of his vision, Marc managing to heft Falchion just as the blow fell. Metal screeched, the force of the impact tossing him to the floor.
Gasping, Marc rolled over, clutching at his side. Something was broken, he was sure of it. His eyes caught on Falchion, lying just out of reach before him. It's blade dull and lusterless. Why? Why now?! Marc felt hot tears burn down his cheeks. A single sob wracked him. In the moment he'd needed it most, Falchion had failed him.
A cold laugh cut through the haze of pain. Marc frozen, his breath catching in his throat.
"Truly, you are nothing but a helpless child. What's that? Are you crying? Upset Falchion finally realized you're unfit to wield it," Grima taunted. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not that I blame it's choice. Anyone would have been better. Your sister, your aunt, or maybe even your cousin. All are far more worthy than a murderer like you."
Marc's shoulders began to shake, his vision blurring. He thrust himself upright"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" he screamed, so loudly that his throat burned raw. He thrust himself upright, summoning up every ounce of his rage and frustration into a single shout.
"Thoron!"
For an instant blinding light obliterated Marc's vision. The chamber shook with the force of the explosion. The floor cracked, an explosion of dust and pulverized stone rolling like a wave from the spot Grima has been standing an instant before. But that wasn't enough, that would never be a enough now. He'd pay, he'd pay, he'd pay for all of it!
"Arcfire! Elwind! Arcthunder! Thoron!" He screamed again and again, launching spell after spell in a blind fury. He'd kill him! He'd kill him if it was the last thing he did!
Slowly the dust began to settle in the wake of Marc's final spell, everything falling still. His shoulder rose and fell in ragged gasps. Pain split his skull with each breath he took, his vision darkening with each throb. He clutched his chest, realizing only then intensity of the burning sensation. He limbs felt numb. He swayed and nearly toppled over.
A chuckle split the silence. Through the fading cloud materialized Grima. His hand was outstretched, a shimmering half-sphere of violet lighting thrumming with unseen power. If he had been harmed at all by Marc's attacks he showed no sign. Not even the edge of his coat had been burned.
"I must say, I did not expect you to act this stupid." Grima shook his head, an amused smile curling at his lips. "Even a novice mage knows that throwing spells like you did without giving your time to recover can prove incredibly taxing. Fatal, even. Honestly, I'm surprised you're even still conscious from that little display."
Marc could only continue to gasp for air. The pain in his skull had gotten worse, so that even remaining standing.
"I could have sworn I taught you better, Marc. Ever the disappointment. Your sister, she would never have made that particular mistake. Not that she would be in quite as bad a shape as you are now. She was always much better than you at this," Grima mocked. Footsteps rang out in a slow, steady beat. Grima's smile glinted white from the veil of his hood. "Then again, you of course know all of that. Afterall, this is your head we're in. Says a lot about how desperate you must be."
"I… I…" Marc gritted his teeth. "I… Arcfire!" A gout of fire burst from Marc's hands, washing over him in a tide of crimson flame.
Another laugh. Grima continued towards him through the fading embers, untouched by the spell.
A groan escaped Marc's lips. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor. He could barely breath. He could barely think. Everything was so dark. So… numb...
Without warning a hand seized his throat, hoisting him off the ground. He caught a glimpse of
"So it ends. Inevitable." With a smirk Grima threw him back, Marc landing in a crumpled heap. Out of his darkened vision he watched as Grima kicked Falchion across the floor, the blade sliding within arm's reach.
…. I can't…. I can't beat him…. I… I'm sorry…. I'm so sorry…. Reaching out, Marc gripped Falchion's hilt. Ignoring the unbearable agony that came with each move he rose to his feet, shaking with each step, and faced Grima in what he knew would amount to little more than one final act of defiance. Perhaps that's why Grima has kicked Falchion to him, to see if he would.
"I'll make sure to give your family my regards." Grima lifted his hand, his entire form thrumming with power. With a sudden roar a orb a swirling shadow lanced towards Marc. Lightning cracked from it's surface.
Marc could only watch helplessly as the spell filled his entire vision, until it washed over him. Agony burn through every nerve in his body then suddenly… nothing… Dimly he was aware that he was falling back. He barely felt it when he hit the ground.
So he lay there, the world gone in a sea of white. He couldn't move. He couldn't even feel his body. He couldn't even breath. Mother… Father…. Morgan… I'm sorry…. I'm so…. so…. s…. As his consciousness began to ebb away he felt something… warm and wet on his face. Was he crying for them? Knowing he'd never see them again.
"Goodbye…" he whispered, letting himself sink into the void.
…
…
…
…
…
"Ma—"
What was that?
"I— can— gi— up. —arc!"
The voice seemed to cut through the veil of white, soft and gentle.
"Y— mus—get— up. —elive you can!" A second voice joined the first, carrying with it both strength and kindness.
He didn't understand, what was going on. He was so tired…. why couldn't he just rest.
"Don't —ive up, —arc. You must not give in."
A warmth seemed to wash over him, flowing through every fiber of his soul. It seemed as though he drifted in a sea of mist. He did not see, but yet somehow was aware of the presence of two others. That voice… it sounded like.
"Marc, please, you must not give up."
Through the ocean of white came he saw them. His parents. But how were they... But no, not as he knew them now. Both were older. He remembered them, so very long ago. Before everything went wrong… His mother wore a dress of shimmering white, his gray robes under his coat. Then as they approached they seemed ripple, and then suddenly they were garbed in the raiments of war. They knelt on either side, helping him up.
"I don't…. I don't… understand…. you died… how…. how… "
"What's there to understand? We've always been here with you. Even if you didn't know it," his mother murmured, brushing his hair from his face. "We never left you. And that is why you must not give up."
"Mother… I… I …" Marc's voice cracked. Fresh tears streamed down his face.
"I wish we had more time, but before Grima will attempt seize control of your body. You must act before he has the chance," his father said.
"But…" Marc shook his head. "He's too strong. I'm not like either of you. I'm weak, and a coward, and-"
"No, no you're not," his mother interrupted, placing a finger on his lips to silence him. She smiled and in that moment Marc could feel it. Feel how proud she felt of him. "You've been through so much pain and darkness, but you never let it change you. You survived it all, because you have a strong heart. You are so much stronger than you realize."
He father gripped his arm, drawing his attention. "Marc, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you too. I tried so hard… I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye." Tears glistened in his father's eyes. "But, even if I can never make amends for that, I can tell you now, how proud I am of you. We couldn't stop Grima, we couldn't give you the future you deserved before. But now… now you can end this. You can put an end to this evil once and for all. Because you're stronger than I ever was. Because you have your mother's spirit. Her bravery. Her compassion. Her determination."
"And your father's heart," his mother whispered. A glow seemed to emanate from their forms as they began to fade. The light washed over him, seeped into him. Love. Love filled the glow. And he knew. Knew he hadn't ever been alone. "Marc, here is no one more worthy of Falchion's legacy. You must believe in yourself, as we believe in you..."
With that their forms dissolved into motes of light. Yet even as they vanished the warmth remained. Because even if he couldn't see them, they would always been there. Always.
…
…
…
…
…
Marc opened his eyes. Before him stood the dragon table just as before. Grima loomed before his, wreathed in flame and shadow, having not yet noticed his stirring. Everything hurt. With a force of will Marc rose to his feet, his hand gripping Falchion.
Grima turned, for an instant shock registering on his face. "You… you still live…" His crimson eyes narrowed, and he sneered. "Not that this little display of continued defiance means anything. You will die."
"No," Marc said, staggering a step towards Grima, his gaze on the floor.
"No?" Grima chucked, clearly amused by his response.
"No," Marc repeated. He took another step. "I understand now… understand what you really are. You're nothing but a bad dream." A flame seemed kindled in his chest. He staggered another step. Falchion began to thrum in his hand, the blade's surface shimmering.
He took another step.
"Cling to whatever hope you wish, it will not save you," Grima spat, anger surging through his voice. Shadows began to swirl around Grima, blotting out all light and he gathered his power for one final attack."Just give up!"
Marc's hand began to tingle as warmth began to radiate up through his arm. It ebbed and flowed with a steady beat, matching the burning in his chest. The two were one. The blade's fiery heart His heart. They were one. The heat surged with each step he took, stronger and faster as he strode towards Grima.
They believed in him. Believed that he could do this. And now… now he just had to believe it too! Like the breaking of a dam a surge of power erupted from Falchion's blade. White, ethereal flames danced in a halo around the blade. But they did not seem to burn, but rather merely felt warm. Like the rays of the sun.
With a road Grima unleashed a wave of darkness. It surged towards Marc, smashed into him, and broke like a wave against the rocks, flowing harmlessly around the burning aura seemed to radiate from somewhere deep inside him. Marc continued forward through the wave of shadow, his head still down.
Grima reeled back a step, shock registering on his face. "How how can you-" He snarled, eye catching on Falchion. "You… you think this changes anything. Even with Falchion, your mother could never defeat me alone. And you're nowhere as skilled as she!" Grima bellowed, rage mastering him
"You're right…" Marc said softly, his gaze still on the floor. He took another step "I'm not as skilled with my mother as a blade. And she could never beat you alone..."
"Then why do you resist. Why fight when it's hopeless?
"But she did beat you. She and father beat you. Because they weren't alone. They beat you together." He another step. "I may not be half the swordsman my mother is. But that's okay…. because I'm not her. Because she isn't the only one who raised me…"
Marc took another step, and lifted his gaze to meet Grima's " Because you've forgotten that I'm not just a swordsman. I don't just have my mother's strengths. I have those of both my parents!"
A burst of lightning arched from Marc's fingertips, spitting the air with a crackle of power. As expected Grima lifted his arms to shield himself, blocking the attack with a spell of his own.
But this was what he'd been counting. In an instant Marc closed the distance. So wrapped in defending himself from the spell, Grima barely had time to react launched a flurry of blows. Again and again Falchion collided with it's dark twin, explosions of light flaring with each clash. Each hit forced Grima back step by step, never giving him a chance to recover.
Twisting his blade Marc knocked Grima's arm wide. "Elwind!" Twin crescents of wind sliced Grima across his chest, knocking him further off balance. Falchion clashed twice more, even staggered the Fell Dragon's inhuman speed and strength keeping him in the fight. If he got the chance to recover, he could easily regain favor.
And that's why he couldn't give him that chance.
Leaping back, Marc thrust his hand towards the floor. "Arcfire!" Flames splashed against the stone, fanning out until they completely engulfed Grima.
"You think your pathetic spells can hurt me, I am a god. I am eternal!" Grima screamed a blast of lighting smashing into the spot Marc had been standing in moments before.
But Marc was no longer there. He'd moved, covered by the flames, to attack Grima from the right. Grima whirled, too slow, Falchion's tips slicing across his arm. Grima howled in agony, reeling back. Smoke curled from the wound, his face twisted with rage.
"Elthunder!" A sphere of lighting leap from Marc's palm. Grima ducked to the left to avoid the spell. For but an instant he was left open, which was all Marc needed. He leapt forward, bringing Falchion down with all his might. Grima sluggishly brought his own blade up block. "Igni!" Marc shouted, crimson light erupting as the two blades collided. For a moment he was met with resistance. Then, with a crystalline sound, Grima's sword, the twisted visage of the corrupted Falchion, shattered. Grima reeled back, eye wide. For the first time Marc could ever remember, the Fell Dragon's shade looked afraid.
"For everyone you killed, this ends here!" Marc screamed. With that final shout Marc lunged forward and drove Falchion into Grima's chest.
For a moment no one moved, then Grima shriek in agony, the shrill sound bringing pain to Marc's ears. Cracks began to form all over the fell dragon, liquid shadow pooling from the fissures. All around them the world began to dissolve, breaking away to a sea of blinding light. Then, with a final, horrible howl of defeat, Grima's body shattered. There was a flash and everything went white.
. . . . .
"Marc. Are you there, dear?"
Marc groaned, bright light stinging his eyes through shut lids. With an effort of will he clawed his way through the he clawed his way through the haze of unconsciousness.
He blinked, opening his eyes. He was on his back, his head resting on his mother's lap. She was running her hands through his hair, but stopped as she noticed him stiring.
"Marc," she whispered, her worried expression softening. "Are you alright? I was so worried. I thought we'd lost you several times there."
Groaning again, Marc brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. Carefully he sat upright, his mother helping to support him. Light streamed in through the temple skylights, the sun higher in the sky then he remembered it being. The sun had been setting before, then how...
"How long was I out?" Marc asked. He grimaced, gripping his mother's arm to steady himself.
"All night and most of the morning. We've been dreadfully worried about you," his mother answered.
We?
It was then that Marc became aware that Naga loomed next to them, the Divine Dragon's expression unreadable.
"So what happened? Did you do it? Is Falchion…" his mother stopped herself, eyes on Falchion.
"I… I think so. Right?" Marc turned to Naga.
"I do sensed the darkness lurking with Falchion fade some time before you awoke," Naga confirmed, a barest hint of a smile pulling at her mouth. "Let as see the fruits of your labor."
Nodding, Marc stood, gripping Falchion by the hilt. Falchion rang as he drew it from its sheath. At once white flames leapt across it's length, humming with power. Marc yelped, nearly dropping the blade in surprise. It… it's just like in my dream. But how… Slowly he inched his free hand closer to the flame, feeling none of the expected heat. He passed a hand through them and it did not burn, only feeling the same radiant warmth he had during the battle with Grima's shade.
Turning he saw a no less surprised look on his mother's face. So too did Naga almost look caught of guard. "I… I don't understand. This happened to Falchion when I was fighting Grima, but I thought it was just, well, something that happened there."
"While I can only speculate on the particular appearance of this effect, I can shed some light as to the cause. When you severed your connection to Grima's twisted spell re-established the bond between you and the blade, Falchion resonated with your soul on a level deeper than I've seen outside of a bearing who has undergone the Awakening," Naga explained. "Even now the blade still sings in unison with your soul, resulting in the visible manifestation of it's power that you now see."
Marc nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the dazzling display. "And the flames?"
"Perhaps they reflect some aspect of your own personality. Or they may be a manifestation of the journey this particular incarnation of Falchion has traveled, from corruption to rebirth." Naga offered, motioning to the blade with an open hand. "It may be for both these reasons, or perhaps none of them."
Marc nodded a second time. He frowned, continuing to eye the weapon.
"You seem troubled," Naga observed.
"I-I was just thinking. After all this, it's hard to believe it's over. That Grima's gone for good, I mean," Marc said, turning to look up at her.
"Do not fear, none of the Fell Dragon's taint remains within Falchion. The shade has been vanquished," Naga assured him.
"Good," Marc whispered. Carefully he returned Falchion to its sheath. Then, well, he didn't really do anything then. He felt dreadfully tired, both physically and mentally. The world had taken on an air of almost unreality, his mind still processing everything that happened.
"You have been left with much to think about. However, it is here that we must make our goodbyes. I have tarried from my sleep far too long. Farewell."
Marc watched on as Naga's form began to dissolve away, growing translucent before fading completely. Soon he and his mother were alone in the temple, the sound of birds chirping reaching them from far off.
"Marc, if you feel ready, I'd like to hear what happened when you confronted Grima's shade," his mother said a last, turning to regard him with the gentle smile. "I understand if you do not wish to speak on it as of yet. I won't push you."
"No. No, it's okay, I can talk about it," Marc assured her. Starting from the beginning he recounted to her everything he encountered upon entering the mental landscape Naga had placed him in, from the grisly scene Grima had shown to him to the battle he fought against the Fell Dragon's shade.
The only detail he omitted was the manifestation of the her and father of his own world. In truth, he still was unsure what to think of that encounter. Had it really been them? He had been in mental realm, one made of his one mind. Perhaps they had been nothing more than manifestations of his own subconscious, telling him what he needed to hear to muster one final effort to defeat Grima. Real or not, that was one experience he wasn't quite ready to reveal. It would perhaps be a very long time before he himself was really sure of his own feeling on it.
Finishing his tale, Marc fell silent. For a long while he said nothing, his gaze on the floor.
"Marc, are you alright?" his mother asked softly. She put a hand on his arm.
Only then did Marc realize he was crying, tears flowing gently down his face. "Yeah. For the first time I think I am." He sniffed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He managed a smile The pain and guilt was still there, but it no longer felt as keen as it once did. Perhaps it would never completely go away, but for the first time Marc felt as though he could begin to move on and heal. It would not be easy, but, well, as long as he had people who cared about him, he would not have to face that darkness alone.
"I am glad." His mother smiles, squeezing his arm. "I do not say it enough, but I am so proud of you. More proud than you could ever imagine. Marc. My brave little warrior." Brushing his hair aside, she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.
"I know you are, Mother. You don't have to tell me that for me to know it," Marc said, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug. His chest swelled, feeling as though it was on fire. "Thank you for helping me. It means everything for you to be here with me."
She returned the hug in kind. She brushed his hair aside and, leaning low, kissed him on his forehead. "I could not imagine letting you face this alone." At last she pulled away from him, extending a hand the beckon him to follow. "Let us go and see what the new day brings, shall we? We have a long journey home ahead of us."
"Yeah. Bet farther and Morgan are worried sick of us. Probably shouldn't keep them waiting longer than we have too." Marc grinned, turning to follow her to the stairs leading out of the temple.
Marc stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking back over his shoulder. The light of the morning sun shone brightly from the skylights overhead, casting a golden glow over the entire temple. He stood there, for a moment transfixed by how bright and warm the world seemed. After a second longer he turned away, only to stop in his tracks. Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but for the briefest of instants Marc though he glimpsed two figures standing in the golden rays. But by the time he had looked they were gone.
"Marc, are you coming?" His mother called to him from the top of the stairs.
"Yeah. Coming!" Smiling, Marc tore his gaze away from the temple. He hurried up the stairs and into the light of a bright new day.
Author's Note: Well guys, we have finally reached the end of the Marc focused arc. I hope you guys enjoyed it and are satisfied with this wrapping up of most of the remaining plot threads from A Future Disowned.
As for next time we return to our regularly scheduled fluff filled one-shots, which will aim to make everyone feel all warm and gooey inside. As always please take the time to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter, as I really love hearing from you guys. Until next time, cheers!