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“But you…your star is…”
Callum felt his heart beat a little faster as Kosmo recoiled, lifting an arm to shield his eyes. It was like Sol Regem all over again, and Callum knew exactly what was wrong, but still, he had to hear it.
“What? You have to tell me. Tell me. What did you see?”
To his horror, Kosmo straightened back up, uncovering his eyes just before they turned black as ink. “Darkness,” he whispered, and fainted into his sister’s arms.
Callum took a step forward, not sure if he should approach. He turned to Astrid, who was still cradling her brother’s head. “I-is he okay? Did I-”
He was unable to finish his thought when, to his horror, he felt a familiar yet nearly indescribable sensation of something, someone, tugging at his brain. He clutched his head, grunting, trying to keep the monster out. He could feel Rayla at his side, could hear her calling his name, as he struggled with the foreign presence fighting to steal his consciousness.
He didn’t last long. His eyes rolled back and he lost control of his limbs. Trapped. Just like he was in the stormspire, his body being maneuvered without his consent. He could see, but he did so with the knowledge that Aaravos was there too, seeing through him. As before, he wanted to scream, or vomit, or do anything to express his utter disgust at being a spectator in his own skin. But even his reflexes were absent, his body nothing but a plaything, a gamepiece, a puppet with its strings held tightly in the four long fingers of a mad god.
Rayla assumed a protective stance in front of him, her blades drawn, but there was hardly a trace of anger on her face. Fear had taken reign instead, and something almost like heartache. He’d drawn her enough times to know her expressions by heart. She did not have the face of an elf prepared to kill. Maybe it was the face of an elf who was hoping she wouldn’t have to.
But you do. Rayla, please.
There was no telling when Aaravos would let him go again, if ever. The idea of being like this…being trapped…
Callum was startled out of his thoughts when his mouth began to move, someone else’s laughter leaking out, sounding far more sinister than Callum had ever sounded in his life.
“My, what a wonderful display you’ve created,” Aaravos began, and Callum wished he could crawl out of himself, into an entirely new body. One that had never been touched by such a monstrous creature, or the darkness that allowed that creature in in the first place.
“What was it you said? ‘The stars have touched him.’” he chuckled again, before his grin turned to a grimace. “It amazes me what you mortals will do for beings who would snuff you out in an instant for their benefit.” Rayla lunged forward, but Aaravos shoved her aside with a wave of his - Callum’s - hand. Callum could not turn his head to see if he was alright, not when Aaravos had fixed his - their - gaze on the Elder, who had drawn a rune in the air.
“Galida Pavimento!” he shouted, but Aaravos blocked it with the rune for Pluviam Presidium. The Elder was already drawing another spell, but Aaravos raced toward him, impaling the elf on Callum’s staff.
Callum wished, desperately, that he could flinch, or shut his eyes, but all his natural responses were blocked. The Elder’s blood was…was…on Ibis’ staff, at Callum’s hands, and it was all his fault. Not because he was in control of his body, but because he had used dark magic. He had inflicted on himself the darkness that let Aaravos take over.
The Elder didn’t die immediately. He gurgled and spasmed and looked so agonized and Callum couldn’t even look away. He couldn’t protect anybody. The celestial elves who hadn’t begun to flee were in danger and still they raced toward it, just like Rayla, and Soren, and Ezran, and every brave person Callum had ever admired.
And Callum watched in horror as his body was used to blow them all away and knock them back against the wall, some of them dying as they landed on their necks, others gasping with pain, a few knocked unconscious.
Finally, Aaravos turned, and Callum could see Rayla again. She looked beyond horrified. He wanted to call out to her, but of course he couldn’t, with Aaravos turning toward the Corona of the Heavens, which had been discarded on the ground in the commotion. Rayla seemed to notice, because she took off toward it. Her speed was no match for Aaravos’ magic, however, as Callum felt himself lifted off the ground and launched forward by an unfamiliar rune. He landed on the ground with a thud, and he wasn’t sure if it was a relief to know he could feel pain in this state.
Relief or not, the feeling didn’t last long. Aaravos’ - his- hand was around the Corona and the other was drawing a new rune. “Diamantum Confractum,” said Aaravos, and to Callum’s and Rayla’s horror, the diamonds burst into pieces. Several of the loose shards lodged in Callum’s face and hands, and all over his body, and it was decidedly not a relief that he could feel pain.
Rayla was bleeding too, when Aaravos looked over, and tears had begun to form in her eyes. Her hands were held against her mouth, and Callum could only imagine what she was feeling. This gift that he knew was so important to her, that he went far out of his way to give to her, that they’d faced off with a darn ice behemoth to find, shattered with just two words.
And worst of all, Aaravos was laughing. With Callum’s mouth. Grasping the broken crown with Callum’s hands, hands that had already been used to hurt Rayla.
“Well, here we are again,” Aaravos half-sang, and Callum’s cheeks ached from grinning. “The moonshadow assassin, all alone, her only means to rescue her dear mother and father gone.” Rayla looked up, gritting her teeth. The fear was absent now, and there was only rage.
“The only question now,” he continued, leaning further toward her, “is will she still be incapable of killing after what she’s just seen?” He folded his arms behind his back, chuckling again. “Or will she finally make good on her promise?”
She seemed to remember, then, the pact they had made just days ago. Hurt flashed in her eyes again, and Callum felt a sharp sadness cutting through him, stinging far worse than the shards under his skin. He hadn’t earnestly prepared himself to die, but it didn’t matter now, when it wasn’t clear what Aaravos wanted with him, or what he might do to everyone in the Starscraper. Everyone in the world for that matter.
Please, Rayla, just do it. I won’t be upset. I promise. You promised.
Aaravos drew another rune with Callum’s finger, digging his staff into the crystalline floor of the rotunda. This one Callum recognized. Terra concutio. A spell that could cause the whole Starscraper to crumble, sending everyone inside plummeting to their deaths.
Come on, Rayla, you have to. Please, please, just-
Aaravos hesitated, and Rayla’s face flashed from pain to determination. She lifted her blade, and leapt forward, slicing Callum’s throat, sending him to the ground. Aaravos let out one final choked “Thank you,” before he retreated, renewing Callum’s bodily control. Not that control mattered much when the whole world was burning with red hot pain.
The stars above began to blur, and Callum realized suddenly that he had just given Aaravos exactly what he wanted. The one person who knew the most about how to defeat Aaravos was dead, and Rayla had been the one to do it.
Callum felt Rayla’s hand on the back of his head, and he could make out the vague shape of her head above, and feel the wetness of the tear that landed on his cheek. She was saying something, he didn’t know what, but it sounded pained in a way that made his heart ache even worse than his throat.
It’s up to you, Rayla, he wanted to say. But it was no use.
The darkness claimed him.