"What mark?" the lady had asked earlier, her voice tinged with unease.
"What are you saying, Mister?" her husband Will interjected, his gaze shifting to Maxilin, who stood with an air of calm authority.
Maxilin didn't falter. "Mr. Will, your wife already knows what I'm looking for," he stated with a certainty that made the room feel smaller.
Will's brows furrowed as he turned to his wife. "Is she talking about this mark, Diana?" he asked, taking her hand gently and pulling back the sleeve of her dress.
"What are you doing, Will?" Diana's voice shook slightly as she pulled her hand back, but it was too late. The mark was now visible—an intricate, dark symbol on her wrist that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
Maxilin's eyes locked onto it. "Yes, Mrs. Diana, tell me. How did you get this mark?" His tone was demanding, but Diana's eyes flashed with defiance.
"It's none of your business, Mister. I'm not obliged to inform you of anything," she replied fiercely, the sudden shift in her demeanor taking everyone by surprise.
Will looked at her, confused and concerned. "What exactly is the problem, Diana? Simply tell him the truth," he urged.
Before Diana could respond, Will turned to Maxilin. "Actually, it's her birthmark," he said, almost as if to convince himself as much as Maxilin.
Maxilin's lips curled into a smirk. "So, you're a demon," he said, the words laced with venom as he stared at Diana.
Diana's eyes widened in shock and anger. "Stop your nonsense," she snapped, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Be careful what you say, Mister. She is the woman I married. I've known her for the past eight years," Will said abruptly, stepping closer to his wife in a protective gesture.
"Will, relax," Diana whispered, placing a hand on his arm.
Their young son, hearing the commotion, ran to Diana and wrapped his arms around her. "Mother," he said softly.
Maxilin's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Mr. Will, it doesn't matter how long you've known each other. Living with someone for years doesn't mean you truly know them."
Will's eyes blazed with anger. "Then what are you trying to say? That my wife is a monster?" he raged, his fists clenched at his sides.
Maxilin paused, his mind racing. I can't just say no to him outright. If I deny it, I'll never find out the truth about that mark. I understand she isn't a monster, but she's something else entirely. I need to know what it is.
He took a deep breath, locking eyes with Will. "She is a monster," Maxilin said, the words heavy and deliberate.
"What?" Will shot to his feet, the disbelief and fury in his voice echoing through the room.
"Will, Charles is here," Diana said, her voice gentle but firm as she glanced toward their son, who was still clinging to her.
"But Diana, what is he saying?" Will demanded, his voice cracking. "It's ridiculous!"
Diana remained calm, her eyes never leaving her husband's. "Will, could you please take Charles from here? He's only a child. This will affect him," she urged, her tone softening as she looked at their son.
Will hesitated, torn between his protective instincts and his desire to confront Maxilin. "I can't let you be alone with this man," he finally said, his voice edged with concern.
Maxilin frowned, sensing Will's rising mistrust.
"Will, he won't harm me," Diana assured him, her voice steady. "I want to see what kind of evidence he claims to have."
Will gave Maxilin a hard look, his jaw tight with tension, before he walked out of the cabin with Charles, leaving Diana and Maxilin alone. The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions.
Diana turned to Maxilin, her eyes sharp and filled with accusation. "I know you don't believe I'm a monster, so why did you say that?" she demanded, her voice low but laced with irritation.
Maxilin didn't flinch. "I'm curious about your mark," he replied calmly.
Diana sighed, her posture stiffening. "My husband said it's a birthmark. If I'm not a demon, what are you suggesting I am?" Her tone was defensive, but a hint of something else—a deep-seated worry—crept into her words.
Maxilin's gaze bore into her. "Whatever you are, it's something that concerns me. Does it really matter who I am?"
Diana's eyes narrowed. "I know it doesn't," she conceded, her voice barely above a whisper. But before she could say more, Maxilin leaned in slightly, his expression darkening.
"This mark," he said, "it's connected to me too."
Diana's eyes widened in shock. "That's impossible, Mr. Maxilin," she said, her voice betraying her disbelief.
"It's possible," Maxilin insisted, turning to gaze out the window. The forest outside seemed peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside the cabin. "I'm not giving you orders, Diana. I'm just asking for your help."
Diana's heart pounded in her chest, her thoughts racing. She knew she couldn't reveal her true identity, not even to a man as persistent as Maxilin. "Listen, I can't tell you who I really am," she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Maxilin turned back to her, his eyes narrowing. "Diana, you're a green witch. I'm not interested in exposing you—I only want to know about the mark."
The color drained from Diana's face as his words sank in. She swallowed hard, the weight of his knowledge pressing down on her. After a moment, she spoke, her voice almost a plea. "Please don't tell my husband, Mr. Maxilin. I'm asking you—no, I'm begging you. I'll help you in whatever way you need, just don't tell him."
Maxilin's gaze was unwavering as he said, "I'd like to see your mark." His voice was steady, but there was an underlying intensity that made Diana hesitate. Reluctantly, she moved the fabric of her sleeve, revealing the intricate mark on her wrist. It was a delicate yet powerful design—a series of moon phases intertwined with ancient runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the light.
Maxilin leaned in, scrutinizing the mark closely. It resembled something he had seen before, but it wasn't an exact match. There was a familiarity to it, yet it was distinct, like a piece of a larger puzzle that hadn't yet fallen into place.
"It's a moon phase, right?" Maxilin asked, looking up at her with curiosity.
"Yes," Diana replied, her voice tinged with reluctance. "These are the five major moon phases." She paused, tracing the outline of the mark with her finger. The design felt like it held secrets that were not meant to be shared.
Maxilin nodded, absorbing the information. "I'm curious about the new moon and the dark moon. What do they represent when they appear together like this?"
Diana's expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she considered his question. "If the new and dark moons are shown together, it carries significance," she said, her voice lowering as if the very words were heavy with meaning. "It's not a good thing, Mr. Maxilin."
His curiosity deepened, and he pressed further. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
Diana took a deep breath, her gaze dropping back to the mark as she explained. "We naturally associate the new moon with fresh starts, hope, or beginnings," she began, her voice steady but laced with an underlying tension. "On the other hand, the dark moon is linked with rest, wisdom, or peace—an ending of sorts."
Maxilin listened intently, sensing the importance of what she was saying. "But if they remain together, the meaning changes," Diana continued. "The new moon, in that case, still symbolizes a new beginning, but the dark moon... the dark moon symbolizes the end of something significant. It's a convergence of life and death, creation and destruction, all in one moment. When these two phases are intertwined, it's as if time itself is at a crossroads, where the past and future collide."
Diana's voice took on a grave tone as she continued, "The deepest significance of this symbol is the beginning of death and rebirth. It might be for the better or for the worse. If it is good, then all is well. But if it is bad, then the gate of hell will be opened." Her words hung in the air, heavy with ominous meaning.
Maxilin listened intently, his mind racing. Beginning of death and rebirth, he repeated to himself. As Diana spoke, he couldn't help but think of his own mark. The new moon and dark moon phases she described were eerily similar to the ones on his body. He remembered how his mark had first appeared—half-formed and mysterious. But just last night, it had changed, expanding into its full, unsettling form.
Diana noticed the intensity in his expression. "Mr. Maxilin, can I ask why you're so interested in this? Maybe if you tell me exactly what you're looking for, I can help you," she said, her voice cutting through his thoughts.
Her question brought him back to the present. He looked at her, weighing the decision. Should he trust her with the truth? Would it be wise to reveal what he had been hiding all this time?
Maxilin's gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, the room felt charged with unspoken tension. "Would it be okay to show her?" he wondered silently.