Present Blank

Can't Go Back

Year 39:They chatted amiably for awhile. Life goes on or so it's said. Morgan still seemed a tad uncomfortable, but was remarkably unguarded. He still did freelance espionage, but no more hits. When Michael finally asked about the four young girls, Morgan released a sigh as if he'd been holding his breath waiting for that specific question. “Margaret, could you give us a few minutes alone?”

“Of course,” she said politely and solidly closed the door behind her.

Morgan ran his hand over the item on his desk, then carefully filed it back. He pulled out another declaration and placed it on his desk. Michael picked it up and skimmed it. It was a letter of abdication, a decade old.

“Charles is the current baron. I was allowed regency until I was executed. I received word recently this is being kept in place, even though you are now alive. However, do expect to hear from Parliament.”

“But, I did not ask about this. I don't remember this, but I don't see the relevance.”

Morgan placed the document away and put the folder back in the safe. “I wanted to see just how much of you was left in that head of yours. Those four girls are all your daughters.”

Shock registered in Michael's brain for a moment, then it returned to its sedate state. “How?” he asked, curious.

“Two of them are by Valerie. The other two... are fey twins, heirs to the principate.”

“Principate... “

“More correctly, Mariel is the Principal to the Scafir.”

Michael's brow furrowed. “I thought I was.”

“You were, until Mariel and Muriel were born. I am sure you are still the apexa.”

“Mariel and Murial?”

“I am sorry, but you were not around to name them. I tried to choose names that fit in both societies.”

“Morgan, I have to ask...”

“You were a powerful spellcaster once. Can you still cast?”

Michael, shook his head. Silently.

Morgan picked up the thought even though he could not hear the gesture. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder. “Michael, I love you. I have loved you from the day we were conceived. And I will love you until the day my existence ends. But our paths have diverged. You have been granted your wish and I have been denied mine. You are now human and I am anything but human.”

Michael's countenance registered disbelief. Morgan softly ran his other hand's fingertips along Michael's jawline. “You have been the world to me. You are the world to me. You have been a brother, a caregiver, a healer. You have been a companion, an associate, and a second. You have been a friend and a lover and a confidant.”

A sense of bittersweet foreboding filled Michael's body. Morgan pressed his right cheek against Michael's. His voice lowered to a whisper. “But now, I am just someone you know. I understand why. I do not know how to convey what has been lost between us. And I can never hurt you.”

A tear fell from Morgan's eye down Michael's cheek. “I will say goodbye to you now. I do not want you to feel obligated to hold up your end of a deep relationship that you do not remember. You do not have to see me again, talk to me again, think of me again, unless you are ready.”

“Surely,” Michael said in the barest of whispers, “if it is as great as you say, I will be back for you.”

“You may be back tomorrow, or I may never see you again. I expect the latter. I will miss you.” Morgan collected him into a hug.

Michael stiffened. Morgan loosened his hold, a pained expression on his face. Morgan sat back on his desk almost physically folding in on himself. Half of Michael wanted to believe Morgan's words and alleviate the pain he was showing; half of him felt vaguely insulted bordering on violated.

“Morgan, surely you would be able to help me remember something.”

“Just go, Michael. I would not cause you pain.”

“What pain?”

“I can read your thoughts. Not deeply, but I can tell well enough you are not comfortable.”

Michael's eyes widened. He thought he heard the words 'with me' ending the statement, but Morgan's lips stopped moving at 'comfortable.' Morgan got up and walked out of the room, leaving Michael with a strange emptiness in his head that echoed like a long, bare hallway.