Mother

"If I don't close the window now, Hawki will fly away tomorrow," Maxilin mused. With that thought, he sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet as he walked to the window.

As Maxilin reached out to close the glass, something caught his eye —a figure moving through the yard. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized her. A woman, her long dress flowing behind her, was slowly making her way across the grass. His breath caught in his throat as a whisper escaped his lips, "Mother?"

He blinked, hardly daring to believe his eyes. It had been years since his mother had vanished, leaving a gaping hole in his heart. And yet, here she was, right before him.

"It's my mother. My mother is here?" Maxilin's voice trembled, barely more than a whisper.

Without thinking, Maxilin pushed the window open wider and leaned out.

"Mother!" he cried, his voice loud and desperate. But she didn't respond. She just continued walking, her pace steady, heading toward the dark line of trees at the edge of the yard.

"Mother, where are you going?" Maxilin shouted, panic rising in his chest. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to face him. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her hands were outstretched towards him.

"My son, Maxilin, how are you doing? Did you miss me?" she called, her voice soft but filled with love.

"Mother, where have you been?" he choked out, tears streaming down his face.

With a sorrowful gaze, she whispered, "Your father abandoned me. Your mother will never come to you again."

"No!" Maxilin cried out, his voice breaking. "Please, don't abandon me. I want to go with you. Please wait for me."

Maxilin's heart raced in his chest as he grabbed the lantern from the bedside table. He didn't have time to think, only to act. Racing down the stairs, he threw open the door and sprinted into the night. The lantern's dim light flickered as he searched the yard, his breath quick and shallow. Then he saw her — his mother —moving steadily toward the woods.

"Mother, please don't go away!" Maxilin shouted, his voice breaking the stillness of the night. But his mother didn't stop. She disappeared into the shadowy trees, her figure swallowed by the darkness.

Panic surged through Maxilin, and without a second thought, he ran after her, the cool grass brushing against his bare feet. "Mother, please don't leave me!" he cried, his desperation echoing in the empty night.

He caught up to her just as she reached a clearing in the woods. With trembling hands, he grabbed her from behind, holding on as if his life depended on it.

"Please don't abandon me again, mother," Maxilin pleaded, his voice choked with emotion.

"I'm not going to let you go."

His mother stopped and turned to him, her face softening as she took his hand in hers. She knelt down, bringing herself to eye level with her son, and gently stroked his cheek. Her touch was warm and tender, and for a moment, Maxilin felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Maxilin, my boy," she said, her voice thick with emotion, tears glistening in her eyes. "How are you doing, dear?"

Maxilin's eyes filled with tears as he looked at her, his voice small and fragile.

"Why did you abandon me, mother? Don't you miss me?"

"I've missed you more than words can say," his mother whispered, her voice breaking.

"That's why I came here tonight, to see you, my son."

She hesitated, glancing back toward the house.

"If I come when your father is at home, he won't let me meet you."

"How come, Mother? I'm sure Father misses you as well," Maxilin said, his voice hopeful.

His mother smiled softly, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

 "Really?" she replied, her tone almost wistful. "Did your father tell stories in the same way that I did?"

Maxilin nodded, though a bit reluctantly. "He did, but only sometimes. But I like your stories the most, Mother."

Her smile grew warmer, and she leaned in closer. "Does my Maxilin want to hear a story again?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Maxilin glanced around the dark woods, the shadows stretching long and ominous around them. "Here?" he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice.

His mother shook her head, still smiling.

 "No, not here, my son. I'm talking about our new home," she said, her eyes sparkling with something unspoken.

"Our new home?" Maxilin repeated, confusion knitting his brow.

She nodded, her smile never wavering.

"Yes, my dear. Do you want to come with me?" she asked, her voice sweet and inviting.

Maxilin's heart skipped a beat as he considered the offer. He missed his mother terribly and the idea of being with her again, hearing her stories every night, was almost too good to be true. He nodded eagerly, a small smile spreading across his face. "Yes, I want to come."

"Then let's leave," his mother said, rising to her feet. As she did, the ground beneath them began to shift. Maxilin gasped as he saw the earth split open, revealing a chasm from which a deep red light emanated, glowing ominously in the dark night.

Maxilin took a step back, his heart pounding. "What is this, Mother?" he asked, his voice trembling.

His mother looked at him, her expression calm and reassuring. "It's our new home, Maxilin. We'll go over it on our way home," she explained, her tone soft and gentle, as if she were describing a warm hearth rather than the strange and eerie sight before them. 

"Come here, my love," his mother murmured, extending her hand toward Maxilin. Her voice was soft and inviting, and without a word, Maxilin reached out, taking her hand like a good child. The glowing red circle seemed to have already cast its spell on him, drawing him in with an irresistible pull.

"Come with me, honey," his mother purred, her steps slow and cautious as they approached the circle's center. "We'll have a lovely life together."

Maxilin, entranced by her words and the warmth of her touch, nodded. "Mother, you're right. We will," he said, stepping closer to the glowing light. Each step felt heavy, as if he were sinking into a dream, his thoughts foggy and distant.

But just as they neared the heart of the circle, something unexpected happened. A weapon — a great sword — came hurtling from the shadows, stabbing into the ground right at the circle's edge. The blade gleamed with a sudden, blinding light that cut through the red glow like lightning through a stormy sky.

Maxilin's mother screamed, a high, piercing sound that shattered the night. Her grip on Maxilin's hand faltered, and she recoiled as if the light had burned her. In an instant, her loving expression twisted into one of pain and rage, and she let go of Maxilin's hand.

Before he could react, a powerful wind surged from the circle, knocking Maxilin off his feet. He tumbled backwards, the force so great that it threw him to the ground, and everything went dark.

The eerie silence of the woods pressed in around him, broken only by the distant howls of unseen creatures.