Ophanim
He opens his mouth to tell her she’s been the furthest thing from a curse but a small child comes toddling up to them before he has the chance. Ophanim turns his gold and white head to look at the boy, the same colors splashed across his tiny face. Meraxes. The angel boy lowers his head to meet the boy’s eye level and curiously bumps his nose to the colt’s face. He watches with fascination as the boy shows off his talents, which initially terrify the new father until the wound seals itself shut once more. Then he’s a giggling child, all joy and an eager stare as he awaits their reactions.
What the hell is this?
Her voice is broken glass and a quickly building rage that makes him turn his head to meet her furious stare. His own mind is still trying to piece it all together but it’s all square peg, round hole for him. Why does Meraxes look like him? Jenova and Leilan don’t even look like him and even if they did, he highly doubts they would conceive a second child together. But then whose son is he?
At long last, the pieces fall into place and his gut feels like its suddenly been twisted and knotted into a painful mess. Meraxes looks like one of those mistakes that Ophanim had struggled so hard to forget and yet the boy is standing before them now. He’s beautiful, like he always imagined his children would be, but staring at his small face is painful for him now.
“My name.. is Ophanim. This is my wife, Starsin,” he says softly as he continues staring down at his small son. He swallows hard as he struggles to think of what else to say. “Do you.. need a home, Meraxes?”
His blue eyes, terrified, turn to Starsin and suddenly those golden tear trails running down his cheeks seem to fit his expression.