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By the time we arrived at the Spire, we were exhausted. From the long, perilous journey to and from the Starscraper, a few new possessions in hand, to the long and tiring journey that was climbing up these horrid stairs. On the bright side, at least this time we knew the spell that would save our lives before we both passed out from lack of oxygen.
Soren and Ezran were waiting for us at the top, after staying in Katolis and working there to help end this war against the Startouch Elf, Aaravos, from the throne, while Callum and I were retrieving the necessary item, the Novablade. Aka, the weapon we were going to use to kill Aaravos, so he’ll never have the chance to conquer anything ever again.
However, when we reunited with Soren and Ezran, they informed us that Zubeia, the Queen of the Dragons, was missing. Our mission was halted, as Ezran decided he and Soren would go to try and find her, or at least, try to find out where she is, and whether or not she’s okay. They took the dragon that was there, Pyrah, and left, not only ten minutes after Callum and I got there, leaving us both alone, to protect the prison.
+++
Only a day has passed so far, but a boring one at that. We had nothing to do, no way to make ourselves useful, so not for the first time this month, I began to feel useless.
Today, I decided I would busy myself by walking around the Dragon Queen’s lair. The large hollowed out cave towards the back of the spire that acted as the sleeping quarters of the Queen and her son, Azymondias.
As I walked through the cave, I was reminded of the time, only two years ago, that I was named The Last Dragon Guard, and trusted to protect Zym. Or, only months before, when my own parents had their spirits taken away while having been trusted with the same task.
I take a seat along the cave wall, leaning my head back against it in thought. For the first time in years, I finally had hope of seeing my parents again, and I couldn’t be more nervous. The last time I saw my parents, I was only around eight years old, and I was so mad at them for choosing to leave me. As for Runaan. Well, the last time I saw Runaan, he wasn’t so happy.
I’d considered writing word to Ethari, back in the Silvergrove, to inform him that there’s a chance to save Runaan and bring him home, but I quickly decided it wouldn’t be right. There was no way I was going to tell Ethari, until Runaan is free. I don’t want to risk getting his, or my, hopes up, if it doesn’t end up working out. Just in case something goes wrong.
My thoughts are cut off as Callum enters the enormous room. Immediately, upon seeing my expression, he offers a reassuring smile. “So, Rayla, I’ve been studying that page I have from the Bookery, the one with the spell, and, I think I’m ready.”
I perk up at his words, but quickly stop myself. I don’t want to get my hopes up. “That’s great, Callum, but it’s not our top priority. We defeat Aaravos first, then we worry about my parents.”
Callum comes and sits next to me against the cave wall. “I know it’s not the top priority, but it’s still important. I was thinking we could release your parents first, so we’d have more numbers on our side, in case something goes wrong.”
“Callum,” I immediately began to argue. “We don’t know if my parents–specifically Runaan–will even be ‘numbers on our side’.”
“But we do know that they serve the Dragon Queen. If we can find Zubeia, it won’t be hard to convince them. Besides, we’ll also have you on our side. That should be enough.” he nudges my side.
“Okay,” I agree. “But–” I turn to face Callum, flinching when I’m caught off guard. He’s staring blankly at me, eyes unblinking, complexion suddenly alarmingly pale.
“Callum?” I slowly outstretched my hand, reaching for his face. “Callum.” I repeated.
Right as my hand touches the cold skin of his face, Callum starts to cough, choking, hands grasping at his neck. I jump back, retracting my hand, moving back a few inches. He’s gasping for air.
I recognize the scene almost instantly, so familiar to the one I try so hard to forget. “Oh, no. Callum,” I reach for him again, thinking hard, hoping there’s something I can do, anything I can do to stop it from happening again.
Within an instant, he’s silent, his hands falling from his neck, numbly to his sides. His eyes go blank, pitch black, empty. And his body goes limp.
My heart is pounding in my ears like a drum. I count the beats in my head as I watch in terror.
One…
Two…
Three…
Four–
Callum’s head snapped back up, eyes a blinding white.
I knew all too well what was coming next, yet I couldn’t have felt more unprepared for it.
Suddenly, a deep, chilling voice echoed through the huge, empty cave.
Callum’s body stands, and like a puppet on a string, he doesn’t look like Callum anymore. It’s not Callum anymore.
“Ah, the elven assassin.” Aaravos remarks. He bows, mockingly. “How nice to meet again.”
Once I recovered from the initial shock and fear, I’m furious.
“Leave Callum alone.” I spit, drawing my twin blades.
Aaravos laughs. “And what are you going to do? Hurt the mage?” He laughs again. “You can’t even hurt a stranger, ‘assassin’.”
I try to hide a flinch as I realize he’s right, I can’t hurt Aaravos, because Aaravos isn’t here. And I can’t hurt Callum.
My eyes narrowed at the possessed mage. He stood there, hands calmly positioned behind his back, as if he was greeting guests at a dinner party.
He only smiled. “The poor mage. It’s not his fault he’s so hopelessly curious of the dark.
“He doesn’t do dark magic. Leave him alone.” I yelled, more furious than before. “What is it that you want?” I demanded, though I already knew the answer.
“What do I want?” Aaravos’ smile widened. “Oh, I think you know. You see, my followers have”–he sighs, dramatically–“disappointed me.” He turns and scans the room. He didn’t need to look for long, though, before he found what he was searching for. The large, glowing pearl, shining pure white, in contrast to the dark hues of blues and greens behind it, lay still in the same nest the Dragon Prince’s egg had once laid.
My gaze fell back to Callum’s bright eyes, watching as the delighted smile turned into a devious smirk. A smirk that told me, Aaravos already thinks he’s won.
“No!” I yelled, but frozen still.
Callum–or, Aaravos, walked calmly toward the prison, knowing fully well that Rayla didn’t want to hurt Callum, but making the mistake of thinking she wouldn’t.
I didn’t want to, but I had no other choice.
I began to run towards him. It’s not Callum, It’s not Callum. It’s not Callum. I tried desperately to convince myself, but it wasn’t true. This was Callum, and surely, this was going to hurt.
I came up behind him, blades ready to strike, regretting every move as I made it. I have to. Tears burned in my eyes, but I forced myself to focus. One wrong move and it’s over. Focus. This is Aaravos, and I need to stop him.
The figure whipped around, throwing an arm out and knocking one of my blades from my hand. It flipped through the air and landed and in a smooth arc, embedding itself into the ground. I held the other tighter.
Aaravos, using Callum’s connection, drew a rune in the air, and muttered the word, “Fulminis.”
The rune crackled and shot out in a bolt of lightning, aimed directly at me.
I jumped out of the way in time, rolling onto the floor, but recovering quickly, getting back on my feet, rubbing my bad wrist, the one that’s never been quite the same, never quite as strong since the binding that had once been tightly wound around it.
I ran for him again as he cast the wind spell, “Aspiro”. I paused, letting it pass. It was stronger now, seeing that Callum’s power was mixed with a part of Aaravos’. Luckily for me, it was only a small part.
Before he can react, I slide under the cone of wind, knocking him off his feet. Fast as I can, I grab his arms and pin them to either side of him, hovering over him now.
“I’m sorry, Callum.” My eyes sting, but I grip my blade tightly with both hands, holding it directly above his stomach.
“Levare Ventum.” he calls, after I hesitate for too long. The spell releases a gust of wind that pushes me away from him, firmly, throwing me into the cave wall. Pain shoots into my side, and I groan as I stand, holding my free hand to my injured ribs.
Aaravos is up on his feet again already, dusting himself off as if he had simply tripped and fell. I didn’t hesitate to run at him again this time, ignoring any pain I felt in my side or my wrist, ignoring the sting in my eyes as I thought about exactly what I was about to do. Who I was doing it to.
I made a big show of myself bringing my blade up, above my head, preparing to slash downwards, taking advantage of my opponent’s arrogance. As a hand came up to grab my arm, attempting to shove my blade away again, I ducked down, pulling one arm down with my free hand, and quickly stabbing my blade into his lower abdomen.
Aaravos gasped, surprised, confused even, but not in pain. No, he felt nothing.
I pull the blade free, backing away, satisfied, victorious, and horrified, all at once. I drop the sword, letting it clatter to the ground, forgotten.
Aaravos’ spirit long gone, Callum’s eyes flicker from pure, glowing white, back to emerald green. He falls to the ground, losing blood and consciousness, fast.
I run over, ripping off a piece from my cloak, I use it to press it against the wound, tears pooling over my eyes and down my cheeks, but trying to keep myself calm, because I know it’s going to be okay. He has to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.
“I’m so sorry, Callum. I’m so sorry.” I mutter as I work to put pressure on the wound. “I had to do it. But you’re going to be okay.”
I know it, I know in my heart that he’ll be okay, I made sure of it.
“You’ll be okay, Callum, you have to be okay.”
+++
Another sigh. It seems I was getting the same reaction every time.
“Try again,” he demanded.
I shook it off, ready to try again, remembering what I was taught.
I drew my blade once again, eyeing my target. In one single, fluid motion, I leapt from where I stood, pushing myself forward, from stone to stone, until I landed in front of her, striking her in the lower part of her torso, with my flimsy sword.
Panting, I turned back to Runaan.
This time, he didn’t sigh, or demand I try again, but instead, he stepped forward, and held his hand out.
I looked up at him for a moment, then handed him my sword, stepping aside to let him pass.
“Rayla, you need to understand what I’m trying to teach you.” Runaan moved in front of the young assassin, though she was older than me by almost five years. She has been one of his top trainees for a while now.
He demonstrated, striking the girl with the dull sword in several places. His blows were slow and calm, so he could show me each place he struck.
“It matters where you strike, Rayla. Depending on where you aim, different things happen.” he showed me the same places again. “Non-fatal.”
Then, he showed me several other places. The neck, the head, the upper chest. “Extremely fatal. Dead in an instant.”
He turns and squats down so we’re looking eye-to-eye. He hands me the sword. “In an assassin’s job, Rayla, there’s only one type of blow we need to make; fatal.”
+++
I sat on the floor of the dark, empty cave, a cool breeze flowing through, but all I felt was a burning guilt, bubbling inside of me. Dry tears stained my flushed cheeks as I sat against the stone wall, my butterfly blade balanced in my hand. The shiny, silver blade was covered in a sticky, crimson red substance. A lot of it.
My other blade lay at my side on the stone ground, perfectly clean and untouched.
Then there was the state of my hands, the proof that the blood that covered my blade was spilled by me. My hand that didn’t hold my blade was shaking as I examined it. Dark, dried blood covered my hand in splotches, my other hand practically identical.
I had to use both my hands to press the torn piece from my cloak to the wound, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. I hadn’t had the chance to clean it off yet. I refused to leave his side.
Callum lay next to me, still unconscious. I had used both of our bed rolls, and any extra bedding or blanket I could find to make him a more comfortable place to lay than the cold, stone ground. He lay still, motionless, his eyes shut tight, face still pale, but slowly regaining color.
After I had stopped the bleeding, I had made him a makeshift bed, and found a variety of supplies from our bags that could clean the wound. Unfortunately, I had gotten fairly good at cleaning and dressing wounds during my years away, even Stella had become good at it. Though, I suppose that’s a good thing.
Now that I had cleaned and dressed the wound, with the help of Stella, all that I needed to do now was wait.
He’s going to be okay. I repeated to myself. I made sure that he’s going to be okay.
I dropped my blade to the ground beside me, the distraction only lasting for so long. My gaze fell to Callum’s motionless body beside me. Well, motionless, save for slow, steady breathing.
“You’re going to be okay, Callum.” I muttered, more for myself than him. I took his cold, limp hand from the stone and held it in mine, rubbing his pale skin with my thumb, gently. I did the right thing. Right?
Just then, finally, he began to stir, groaning quietly in pain. I squeeze his hand in response as he peeks his eyes open, slowly.
“Callum,” I sigh in relief.
As soon as he’s conscious enough to process everything, he tries to sit up. “Rayla? Are you okay?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“Callum, you need to be careful, or you’ll make it worse.” I lecture, hands moving to his shoulders, but he doesn’t lie back down.
Callum eyes the wound, the tightly wound bandage around his abdomen, peeking out from under his shirt, as if he didn’t realize where the pain was coming from until now. He slowly lifts his shirt, just enough to see that a small amount of blood was already seeping its way through the bandage.
My eyes are stinging again as I watch realization dawn in his face. He meets my eyes in question.
Instantly, he notices my pained expression, and he tries to sit up further. “Hey, hey, hey.” he mutters, trying to calm me down, even as he swallows down what looks like a lot of pain. “Whatever happened, Rayla, it wasn’t your fault.”
I meet his eyes with blurred vision. “I’m so sorry, Callum, it’s my fault but I had no choice.”
Something changes in Callum’s face, as he realizes now that his previous statement was wrong. I prepare for the worst, anger, sadness, pain. But instead, his voice becomes gentler than before, as he asks, “Rayla, what happened?”
I do my best to hold myself together as I explain to him what happened. “Aaravos, he was back. He… he took control of you again, Callum”--I say, gently, knowing how much he hates it–“he was going to take the prison, open it. I had to stop him.” I looked away, ashamed, to the cold stone floor, expecting the worst.
“Good.” Callum responds. “You stopped him, Rayla, that’s what matters. What happens to me doesn’t, as long as–”
My head snaps back to face him, meeting his eyes, mortified. “No, Callum, what are you talking about?”
“I just mean–” He tries to defend himself, rephrase, but I cut him off again.
“Why would you say that? I had to protect you by hurting you, yes, but I would never hurt you under any other circumstances, Callum, do you understand?” As soon as the words left my mouth, firm and unwavering, they stung.
Callum realizes what I did, only seconds later. “Rayla–”
“No.” I tell him, standing up slowly, and turning to leave. Before I can, Callum’s hand catches my wrist, his grip weak, but it stops me anyway. “Let me know if you need anything.” I say, my back still toward him. I wait for his hand to fall away, then I walk away, my heart left stinging by my own words.
+++
The next time I go to check on his wound is the next morning. I say nothing to him, just making sure the wound isn’t infected. Callum tries to reach me, but I ignore him, too busy stuck in my thoughts, the voices in my head overpowering his. I turned my own words over in my head, knowing in my heart that it’s about time I did something about it, to fix this, to fix us, but simultaneously feeling too afraid to try.
Later that day, a few hours after we had eaten, I went to check on him again. He has his sketchbook in his hands, studying it, not drawing in it when I approach him. He gives a weak smile as he sets it down. I sit down beside his outstretched legs, facing him. When I check on the wound, I find a dark red liquid has seeped out onto the white bandage, so I check our bag, pulling out what’s left of our supplies. “We’ve only got one more bandage, so hopefully, for your sake, you’re done bleeding.” I say, quietly.
I can see the soft shock on his face. He takes my words as an opportunity. “Rayla,” he starts, waiting for a response.
I start to unwrap the bandage, my brow furrowed. “Yes, Callum?”
He sighs, softly. “I want to talk about yesterday.” he says, a small smile on his face, that he presumably got from getting me to talk.
“Well, I don’t.” I say, pulling the last bit of the bandage from around his waist. Callum winces at the movement, making my head whip up in concern. I mutter an apology.
But he’s still smiling, happy to be talking, but as he speaks, he becomes somber. “Rough day yesterday, huh?”
I scoff. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?”
He shrugs, but his face suggests that it didn’t feel too good. “I’m fine, Rayla. In fact, I don’t even know what you’re referring to.” He tries, teasingly.
I look up from my work, unamused.
He sighs again. “Look, I know you’re not happy about what happened yesterday, but I hope you realize that everyone would have been hurt if it weren’t for what you did. Including me. You saved everyone.”
I took a wet rag that I had brought over and gently began to clean the wound. “This doesn’t look like I saved you.” I said, though I knew he was right. I was trying to protect him. I left to protect him.
“Well, you did.”
This wasn’t what I needed. I knew that what I did was the right thing, no matter how hard it was to do. No matter how much it pained either of us. But what I did before, that wasn’t right. What I needed right now, was to set everything right. I’ve waited too long, too afraid of what the reaction will be, what it would lead to. I’m tired of letting this eat me from the inside out.
I pause from cleaning, but I don’t look up. Instead, I let out a breath. “Callum, there’s something I need to tell you.”
He’s silent, waiting on me.
I take a deep breath, and meet his eyes. “When I was younger, my parents told me they were leaving. They told me that they had a duty to go and protect the egg of the Dragon Prince.” I looked back down at the wound, and continued cleaning it, with gentle movements. “I was so mad at them, too young to understand why they were leaving. Part of me thought they just didn't love me anymore, and the whole thing was just a convenient excuse. For a while, I couldn't forgive them, I wouldn't even consider it. But as I grew older, I realized that they left because they loved me, not the other way around. Through their actions, they taught me that to protect our loved ones, we need to sacrifice.”
I reached for the fresh bandage, not letting myself look at Callum. “Because of what my parents did, I felt that self-sacrificing was the answer. And I’m not saying that as any excuse for what I did, but, Callum, I left because I thought I was protecting you, because that’s what I learned from my parents. I left because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but I ended up being the one who hurt you, by lying to you and leaving.” I began to wrap the wound with the new bandage. “I’m sorry for leaving, Callum. And lying to you, and not respecting your decision. I’m sorry for not coming back sooner, or writing to tell you that I was okay, or that I was alive. And I should have apologized the moment that I saw you again, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I was just so scared, I felt so guilty, and because of that I was convinced that apologizing would only remind you of all the awful things I did.”
I bring a hand to my face and use my wrist to wipe my eyes before I tie off the bandage. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I needed to tell you anyway. I needed to finally apologize the right way.”
I finished dressing the wound, and let my hands fall to rest in my lap. I waited for some response, whatever it was, Callum would give me what I deserved.
He took my hand, gingerly, and held it in his. I finally met his eyes. “I never stopped thinking about you after you left. I was constantly wondering where you were everyday, at every moment, what you were doing, if you were okay, or let alone alive. I became so obsessed that I had to distract myself somehow. I used magic as an escape, constantly studying, always practicing, but it never fully took my mind off of you. After a while, I thought I had gotten over the initial anger I was feeling, because I just wanted so badly to see you again, that I thought I was ready to forgive and forget the moment I saw you. But when you finally did come back, I was angry again. While I was happy to see that you were safe, and alive, and that you had come back, I was also angry, because I was reminded of the hole you had left in me the day you disappeared.”
I opened my mouth, trying hard to form more words, to apologize again, but Callum stopped me. “But now that you’re back, now that you’ve been back, and we’ve been through so much more together, I haven’t only been reminded of how much I had cared for you, but I’m remembering why I did, why I still do, why it hurt so bad when you left.”
He took my other hand in his, holding my gaze steadily, unwavering, and certain. “Rayla, I love you. I never stopped loving you, matter how mad or upset I was. You’re an amazing person. You’re kind, even when you’re being grumpy and stubborn. You’re an amazing fighter, and you’re entirely devoted and determined in anything and everything you do. I trust you, because I know you, Rayla. I know you always fight for what you believe is right. I love you.”
For a moment, all I can do is blink in stunned silence. I try to suppress the tears welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision, but I’m so focused on Callum. On the fact that he just said the exact words that I needed to hear, but doubted he'd ever say, because I didn’t think he could ever forgive what I’ve done. I didn’t think I deserved it.
I was so close to him now, too close, that before I could think twice, my hand was free from his grasp and reaching up, cupping his face as I pressed my lips gently to his. It was over as soon as it started, though, as I realized what I had done. Let go of him in a panic, eyes wide. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry– I shouldn’t have done that, because you never said it was okay, or that you had even forgiven me yet–” I buried my red-flushed face into my hands. “I should go, I–” I lift my head from my hands with barely enough time to blink before Callum’s lips are on mine again.
Callum breaks the kiss this time, but is still so close as he tells me, “I think I forgave you a while ago, and just didn’t know it yet. But when I looked at you and realized that I would do anything for you, is when I knew. Because I love you.” and his lips met mine again.