Chapter Text
Marx stared at the stars through the glass dome that enclosed the star-shaped ship.
“I wonder what my other mom is like?” Marx said to no one in particular. He’d set out on a mission to find a woman named Agafya, who Gryll said was Marx’s only living family. She’d left him in the care of the witch because, according to Gryll, her job was too dangerous to bring a child with her.
But Marx was no longer a child, and he wanted to meet the woman his other mother, Cel, had loved.
So he’d taken his mother’s old Star Warrior ship and set out to find her. But he was beginning to think it may not have been the best idea. He’d only been traveling for three days, but he was already out of food.
He would have to land soon.
Marx was jolted from his thoughts by an unpleasant sputtering coming from the engine.
“That,” Marx decided, “is probably not good.”
Magolor had been searching for the Crown for some time now.
He had landed on some obscure planet for supplies. As he was doing research earlier, he must have fallen asleep, for he found himself being awoken–rather rudely— by the Lor’s incessant beeping.
“What?” he demanded, “what is it?”
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
Magolor checked the ship’s sensors, grumbling all the while. “Huh. That is probably not good.”
A ship was hurtling toward a spot not too far from where the Lor was sitting. It was far enough, however, that it wouldn’t cause damage to the Lor.
Sure enough, Magolor soon heard a crash as smoke rose up in the distance. He knew he should ignore it and continue his research.
But, as always, Magolor’s curiosity got the better of him.
“Maybe I can gather supplies from the wreckage,” he reasoned. “I’m sure whoever was inside won’t mind.”
He grabbed a bag off of a hook on the wall, made sure his prosthetics fit comfortably, and left the ship.
“Maybe I’ll find some coffee there,” he thought aloud as he yawned. He’d recently run out.
He waded through the tall grass until he came upon a patch that was on fire.
“Hmm. Lovely.” He had no water with him to put it out. Oh well.
There was pain in his heart as he gazed at the burning wreckage of the ship. It was the ship of a Star Warrior. His mother had had one just like it.
He climbed through a hole in the glass dome. Inside, the interior of the ship was mostly preserved, save for a few bits of mangled machinery. In the driver’s seat, there was an unconscious figure.
As he drew closer, Magolor gasped.
The driver was beautiful. His curly pink hair shimmered slightly in the light of the flames. The ruffles on his white shirt and pale lilac shorts were stained with his own blood. Despite this, he looked rather prince-like. Like someone out of a fairytale. His chest rose and fell. He was alive.
“I can’t just leave him like that,” Magolor muttered.
Why not? asked a small part of his brain. You don’t know the guy.
“Shut up,” he told his brain as he approached the princely stranger.
“Hey,” he said, shaking the stranger’s shoulder. “Wake up. Don’t be dead.”
The stranger stirred. Magolor shook him again.
“What?” the stranger muttered, scowling. His voice was musical and had a quality that Magolor could only describe as sparkly. “What is it?”
“Are-um…are you alright?” Magolor stuttered. “It appears that your ship has crashed.” He decided not to mention that he was originally planning to rob him.
“What?” the stranger asked again. He opened his eyes. They were a shimmering indigo. They reminded Magolor of the depths of space, millions of stars as far as the eye can see and even beyond that still.
“Umm, hello?” the stranger said, blinking.
“Sorry, what?” Magolor asked. He’d gotten lost in the stranger’s eyes.
“I asked what planet this is?”
“Earthfall.”
“Damn. I didn't make it far at all.”
“Where were you going?” Magolor asked, trying to keep the conversation going. He wanted to hear more of that musical voice.
“I’m on a quest to find my mother.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He surveyed the wrecked ship. “Looks like that won’t be happening now.”
Magolor hated to hear the defeat in his voice. “I have a ship! You can, um, use it if you want. I’m mostly just doing research right now, so there’s nowhere specific I have to be.” What was he doing? He’d never met this guy before,and he was offering to let him live on the Lor with him? But it was too late to take the words back.
“Really?” the stranger asked, his eyes lighting up like stars. “Thanks!” He paused for a moment, seeming to consider if this was a good idea, but he shrugged
He jumped out of his seat and spun around. He winced as he noticed a large shard of glass embedded in his thigh. “Well that’s not ideal.”
“I have medical equipment back on the ship,” Magolor said.
“You’re a lifesaver, umm, whatever your name is.”
“Magolor Beauvais. And you would be…?”
The stranger grinned. His red bowtie sparkled and righted itself. A blue and red hat flew off of the floor and back onto his head. He bowed dramatically and said, “My name is Marx Leclair, the Cosmic Jester.”
A jester? Not a prince after all. Somehow, even with the hat, that was surprising.
“Would you mind helping me with my stuff?” Marx asked, nodding at his shoulder. “As you can see, I’m not exactly suited to the job, though I can move some of it with magic.”
Magolor peered at Marx. Sure enough, there were no arms under his ruffled sleeves.
“Of course,” Magolor said without hesitation. He followed Marx to the room below. A hole was ripped into the wall, but the contents seemed fine. He grabbed a pink suitcase that was sitting at the end of a cot. Marx did a little spin and lifted a second one into the air.
“So,” Marx said as he climbed out of the hole in the wall while Magolor struggled with the rest of his belongings. “Which direction are we headed?”
He followed close behind Magolor, chattering all the way. Magolor was beginning to suspect that Marx may not be as princely as he looked
“Wow, this is your’s?” Marx asked, marveling at the grand blue ship.
“Yep. Marx, this is the Lor. Lor, this is Marx.”
The Lor beeped a greeting.
“Hello,” Marx replied, smiling brightly.
Magolor led Marx to a storage room. It was mostly empty, save for a few boxes and a random ironing board. Come to think of it, Magolor thought, do I even own an iron?
“Sorry it’s not much,” he said out loud. “I think there’s a spare cot in one of these boxes. Give me a second to find it.”
He rummaged through the boxes until he found what he was looking for. He set it up quickly.
“Thank you, Magolor!” Marx exclaimed in his sparkling voice. “I’d hug you right now if I could!:”
Magolor was suddenly glad to be wearing a facemask.
“Right, um, I’ll go get the stuff from the med bay.”
As Magolor wandered to the med bay, his thoughts grew louder. This feeling he felt… could it be happiness? He hadn’t felt joy in years. As he opened the door, he caught sight of a bread plushie on a shelf.
He and Star used to bake all the time. Their favorite thing to make was bread, but sometimes they made cookies too. Magolor’s fondest memories were in Star’s kitchen, the smell of flour and sugar in the air, mixing dough and wiping spilled ingredients off the counter. Those moments always brought him so much joy. So much love. He had almost forgotten what that felt like. His legs ached as a reminder of all he lost. The feeling was starting to come back, though. But how? Was it because of…Marx? He’d only just showed up. Magolor hadn’t had enough time to get attached to him yet… right?
No, he thought. I have not, nor will I ever. I cannot get attached to him.. I just can’t.
Not after what happened last time.