He saw that sorrowed look. It was perhaps the lack of glint in her eyes, but his mother, Bast, had told him something. Something he could not forget. Something he did not realize. Something of the past, a part of him, yet something he never knew.He was silent. He could not comprehend fully, or at least, he could not comprehend right at the moment. He was intelligent, and so he understood her words. He also understood the gravity of it. Yet, he did not understand it in totality.
His face remained the same - cloaked, like he always had it. He could not break, as such was his domain. He could not feel. Despite hanging on to her every words, he did not feel a thing when he, too, came to the realization. What could he feel about it?
"Father has been gone," he stated plainly, no other hint or clue of expression given.
Bast nodded a slow, acknowledging, and yet, not sad nod. She had known this all along. Mushkeli's father had disappeared the day he was conceived. And it was not just quite that much of a coincidence."You have been experienced beyond your years since the day you were born, Mushkeli," came another set of cryptic words.
Of course, she realized he must have known it by now - he was not a slow one, even though his movements portrayed it. Her words were true - Mushkeli was smart, powerful, and knew many things and was capable of many things since his birth. Even if he did not know it.
"You are a very strong son," she added, nodded slowly once more.
His darker blue eyes looked at her, now, too, solemn a bit in appearance, yet still stony like they had always been. He took many things with his stony gaze. He had seen many things, though obviously not as much as his mother. He had been through with a few mortals on their realm, coincidentally passing them by to aid from an attack or predator or chase. It didn't take him much power, and yet, they appreciated it. He knew his powers well, and he knew it could cause great... concealment. Like how he concealed his feelings. But now...
"I see..." Mushkeli said.
And that was all he would give.
Nothing further needed to be said. It was not necessary. She knew her son well, and she knew he could accept things for what they were. He was as astute as her, and to repeat or confirm something would be to demean it.
It was a relatively recent realization, actually. Yes, she had hypothesized and thought about it before, but never actually believed it herself. But now, with the disappearance of Nalini, it was... a little suitable. She wondered, however, if perhaps it had occurred in more than just those ways...
"You are... thinking..?" he spoke, seeming to have the same thoughts as Bast.
"Mushkeli..." she replied; she could not answer.
How could she answer? That he had used his powers on his mate? Surely one had to come to one's own understanding and revelation of it if one had done such a thing. And that one would only be Mushkeli, as he was the only one to have those powers.
But even she was not so sure. As much as she was omnipresent during the night, she could not keep track of the doings of other gods. She still remembered that he had a father, sure, and remembered Nalini's name. But the two were powerful gods, and remembering more than a name was a little possible for them, especially when they were Mushkeli and his mother.
It wasn't impossible, and yet... Perhaps neither of them wanted to know the truth.
"I-I didn't," he affirmed.
He remembered Nalini. His children did, too. That was enough proof that he did not obscure her. She had been the one to leave. She had taken all the children with her. And, moreover, she left no word of her departure, no trace of what happened, and with no hope for return.
"No."
"Fair enough, my son. You did not," she replied, smiling down at him.
It was not her situation to judge, and yet she was a part of it. Perhaps it would take even a few more years to determine if that was indeed true or not. Though Bast did not like to meddle in affairs that were not hers to judge, she still had a deep connection to Mushkeli that made her care about what he ran into.
"My son, we must not live in regret. That which occurs, occurs. Do not judge harshly on yourself for the loss of father. It is... done."
She had thought long and hard about this, but many years had passed... many new lives and moments had sprung forth onto the lands, that it was not their time to look at the past. Night was always renewed, always coming again for another day. And their family had, for generations, never let anything get away in line of their calling.
Mushkeli was moved by his mother, trusting in her words and judgment ever since he knew. With his mother, nothing could have been wrong. She had been in existence for more than many of the gods he had seen passing by in their haven, and even though she did not remember many things, she surely had a core sense of judgment - a sense of right and wrong that separated herself from fledgling gods and inexperienced domains.
Whatever happened, happened. Whatever happened to Nalini - he must forget. There was no return to her. She was gone, forever, and her memory, though a peaceful and happy one, was one he would not delve into again.
It was done.
"Thank you, mother."
Bast nodded, happy that she could be there for her son. The two did not know everything that happened, but still, the night must come.
So in one big, black swoop, she drifted downwards from her perch on the clouds, back to the mortal realm where she was needed. She had spent enough time with her son in the haven of the gods so that he could heal for at least a little bit more until he was himself again. Sure, he would never be the same - it was unlike him to expose himself so much, and to be betrayed once he had given his all. But the most the two of them could hope for was that he would change and gain wisdom from that, and know better for the future.
Night always came, but it was always a renewal.