Epilogue
Abigail didn't know how long she had cried, how long she had lain in the very bed Mikhail had made love to her.
The sun rose and the sun set, but to her there was no sense of time. She may have stayed locked in this room for all eternity and she wouldn't have known.
Her heart couldn't tell the time, her brain had shut down. Her throat was raw from the screaming as servants who had the best intentions strapped her to the bed and fed her.
Why didn't Mikhail share his blood with her, why hadn't he sewn their souls together?
That way they would have died together, she would endure hell for him. But no Mikhail was in heaven smiling down on her, she had to believe it.
A soft knock sounded on the door. Abigail didn't even bother to tell them to go away. Darius and Misha entered the room dragging the curtains open.
The light at first blinded her eyes, it hurt to open them. Yet when she did she wanted them to be blinded again, everywhere she looked was Mikhail, from the shirt that hung from the armoire, a pair of jeans on the love seat. His comb, wash cloth, his scent clung to every item in the room and the tears she thought she had shed came back with a shocking clarity.
Mikhail the one person she had loved, would always love was gone forever.
...
Misha watched as Abigail's face crumpled, she pulled the covers over her head and began to weep anew, she had to finish this now.
"Abigail get up this instant!" She hissed dragging the covers from the gaunt woman.
Abigail whimpered as Darius pulled her from the bed and faced her towards the mirror.
At first Abigail turned her head away, and only until Misha forced her face to look upon herself did she see.
Abigail gasped as she saw the haggard woman before her, she eyes were sunken and her skin stretched over her skull. Grey strands shone brightly against the black of her hair, making her look twice her age.
However what surprised her the most was the distension of her stomach. Was that what those flutters were? The kicking of her child?
"You see now why we had to force you to eat? Abigail you have locked yourself away for almost six months, can you not see that you were not meant to die, but to live and love the one thing left of Mikhail?"
Abigail listened to Darius, wrapping her arms around her belly protecting Mikhail's child from harm. She would eat and care for herself, for this child was Mikhail's. No one would take anything that belonged to him from her, she would fight the very devil to save it.
...
Alaric watched in amusement as his grandson paced the room. It was a nice surprise to find him laying upon his living room floor some six months ago and although he hurt for the life taken from his grandson, at least he had an opponent for 'Need for Speed: Underground'.
"Don't smile old man." Mikhail snarled which was not very intimidating as he was a non corporal entity.
Alaric told him as much and was rewarded by a psychic blast, which did not affect him as he was a ghost. Instead the ball of heat hit the opposite wall.
"Careful there Mikhail, you're a ghost not a rock star, touch my plasma TV and I'll kill you...again." Mikhail scowled then slumped to the floor.
Was there really no hope for him? How could his grandmother be so cruel as to deny him life? Mikhail like everyone else had been under the assumption that his grandfather was head honcho, turned out that it was his grandmother all along.
He smiled remembering her words.
"Who would worship a woman?" It was true and he knew it, but as a woman should she not feel compassion?
As her grandson she could make an exception, as a man who was in love...his grandfather was laughing at him again. Mikhail wanted very much to sink his fist into Alaric's face, but at the end of the day Alaric was his grandfather.
"I can hear your thoughts my boy loud and clear. You are right of course, what is the point of being a god if you can't even help your grandson out."
Alaric swept his blonde hair from his face then flew upwards disappearing through the ceiling, Mikhail hot on his heels.
...
Mikhail wasn't sure how long they searched, days, weeks, months but the search was endless, books were scattered across the table, papers spread everywhere.
"Aha I have it!" Alaric flipped open the book and explained the ancient language to Mikhail.
"That was all I had to do, we wasted all that time when this was all I had to do."
Mikhail swore, taking to the skies as he searched for the one thing that would bring him back.
"You are welcome, you ungrateful clout." Alaric muttered, suddenly there was a pressure behind him and he felt Mikhail's loving hug.
"Thank you grandpa." Mikhail whispered before taking to the skies once more.
"What did I tell you about calling me grandpa!" He yelled smiling anyway, hoping Mikhail found the happiness he had lost.
...
Abigail cried out one more time before she felt the pressure leave her, she heard the baby crying out loudly, and held out her hands, her child would never cry for long, she would always be there.
He was the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, the white wings that had cocooned her son flapped open and shrank to the size of her palm. Mustard coloured skin shone beneath the flickering candles, a thatch of black hair upon his precious head.
But it was his eyes that she had waited so long to see, she knew babies were born with blue eyes but not to this degree. They matched Mikhail's exactly with their breathtaking clearness and translucency. He mewled nuzzling her chest in search for food.
"My queen, what shall we name this child?" Hamlet asked. He noted the sadness in Abigail's eyes before it quickly turned to happiness.
"Michelangelo, I think it is befitting don't you?" Hamlet smiled and nodded, recording this down on a piece of parchment. He was about to leave when Abigail stopped.
"Hamlet, I would have you send an invitation to all our allies, whether they are from Albion, heaven, hell or earth. Let them know that Soledad and Kryta have a prince who will be the greatest ruler there ever was. Three months from now I would have them look upon Mikhail's child and know that as long as Michelangelo is around then so is Mikhail."
Hamlet nodded once more and closed the door allowing mother and child to get better acquainted.
...
The weeks flew by and for once Abigail could smile without feeling guilty. Mikhail would have wanted her to be happy, and she was. Baby Michel had stolen the hearts of everyone in the castle.
Were they to hear his laugh then they too would be entranced, especially Peter who was most inseparable from his baby brother. For Abigail even the slightest flutter of his wings made her smile.
Mikhail would not be there to teach his son to fly, but Michel had Malcolm, Darius even his older cousins to aid him. He would always be loved.
...
Abigail smoothed the white gown that covered Michel, enhancing his dark colouration, and the pureness of his eyes. Her own gown of white shimmered as the morning light reflected off the diamonds.
She made her way to the chapel, she hadn't been there since the day they buried Mikhail and a part of her wanted to run from the place that held the lifeless body of her beloved. But Michel was yet to meet his father and she could never deny him that.
...
Mikhail winced as he heard the faint chatter above him. He was in the chapel beneath a slab of concrete and once he had fully healed, it would be hell getting out of the coffin. His air was limited as he came fully awake.
He may be immortal but that didn't mean he didn't need oxygen. The final footsteps faded in the distance and he began to push with all his might. Inch by slow inch the lab began to move, and with one mighty push daylight swamped him.
His eyes stung from its brightness, his nostrils flared at the scents he had missed for a year. The noise was horrendous as his newly formed eardrums adjusted to the sounds.
Mikhail was grateful that he had some of his powers, the decaying clothing began to sew together, and the dust flew from his body and settled several feet away.
"Argh!" He moaned his bones snapping to into place. He took one step forward and the world began to tilt, deciding that rushing wasn't going to help much he took his time leaving the chapel.
