Hello, readers, and welcome to my story. I will warn you now, I'm a fan of darker takes on more lighthearted source material. I take the implications of what COULD happen in these worlds and run with them. Some canon aspects are disregarded, while *heavy* liberties are taken with others. That's just how I do things, so expect that out of this project and all future ones I decide to post.
Now some notes just for this story and how things will work here vs canon:
- It was originally written alongside Season 1 of the show, back when there was virtually nothing to go on as far as canon lore. So gaps were filled in and plans were made well before the series continued, and before I knew anything about the novelization, which goes much deeper into the characters, setting and lore. I have since incorporated whatever I saw fit as the series went on, but there were plenty of things I saw no reason to change. So when you see things that don't match up, please consider that before pushing up your glasses and telling me which episode in which season proved me wrong.
- Dark Magic will be more widespread and portrayed in a less "Dark=Evil" way.
- Alongside Dark Magic, technology is also a thing in this story. Not steampunk-level, but you'll at least see mentions of things like indoor plumbing, light bulbs, hydroelectric power, hydraulic and pneumatic machinery, steam-powered prototype weaponry, etc.
- Elves and dragons are pricks. Haughty, condescending and often unwilling to examine their own behavior or acknowledge their own roles in unfortunate events.
- Viren didn't attend classes at the James Bond School of Villainy.
- Callum has a very different background here, and thus is a *very* different person.
Everything else will be revealed and explored as the story goes on, just wanted to let you all know what to expect beforehand so you can decide if this is your cup of tea or not.
Enjoy.
Long ago, Xadia was a land rich in magic and wonder. In the old times, there were only the six Primal Sources: The Sun, the Moon, the Stars, the Earth, the Sky and the Ocean. Through Arcanums bestowed alongside the spark of life itself, all beings, from the greatest dragons to the smallest insects, were born with a connection to at least one of the Sources. All, except the humans.
Born without magic, into a world infused with it, humans led a harsh existence for centuries. Hunted by creatures undeterred by rocks and pointy sticks, often shunned and outright oppressed by other intelligent races, and forced to kill each other over resources just to barely eke out a living in small settlements.
Few were sympathetic. Even those who claimed to value all life were content to merely watch as an entire race floundered and dwindled. Fewer still examined their own role in the humans' losing battle for life. Earthbloods forbid them from felling trees, caring not for their excuses of using them to make shelters for their families. The Tidebound chastised them for their cruel fishing methods, and even went as far as to cause floods to convince the more problematic humans that coastal settlements were more trouble than they were worth. Sunfire elves halted any attempts at mining they didn't directly supervise, in the name of keeping the humans from scarring the landscape with their clumsy efforts. Moonshadows laid claim to the most game-rich territories, denying humans permission to hunt on their lands, and were not gentle about dissuading them from poaching. The dragons were no better.
Only one race, the unicorns, pitied them enough to intervene. Against the warnings of both elves and dragons, the unicorns chose those they deemed the wisest among the humans and gifted them with magic through Primal Stones, as well as the knowledge of how to use it. This gift was given under the condition that such power be wielded with respect and caution, and for a thousand years the humans kept their end of the bargain. In that time, they showed all of Xadia just how much they could accomplish when they were granted even a fraction of the advantages other races were born with.
Vast cities, magnificent works of art, fascinating contraptions and an entire system for understanding the natural world in non-magical ways. But it couldn't last. Shaped by such dire beginnings, human nature ensured that there would be those who would never be content in life unless they were at the absolute peak. Some of these people possessed the will, prowess and cunning to become kings of men. But for a few, even a crown and a kingdom weren't enough. They coveted the power of magic above all else, and fought wars over the Primal Stones, resulting in the destruction of all but two.
And so, in the face of untold casualties, devastated cities and the prospect of losing magic altogether, humans found an alternative. The Seventh Source: Dark Magic. Requiring parts of magical creatures to harvest their essence, it was seen as an abomination all across Xadia. But it wasn't until the humans' thirst for ever greater power caused them to turn on their original benefactors and hunt the unicorns into extinction, that the elves and dragons moved to put a stop to the madness.
Extermination was the goal. After the humans' total betrayal, none dared speak out on their behalf to champion their right to live. Even so, the recently-crowned Dragon Queen began her reign with a show of benevolence not seen before or since, and chose banishment over eradication. Thus the human race was forced westward, out of Xadia, and the entire continent was divided in two.
However, what came to be known as the Merciful Compromise, was not all it appeared to be. The most powerful of the dark mages still met their ends which, though deserved, left the exiled humans to wander through the hostile and mostly uncharted western lands with little in the way of defense. Once again they were hunted by creatures unfazed by their weapons. Once again they were forced to fight and kill for resources. Once again they were beaten down by the world around them.
The difference was that this time they were unchained and unchecked. With no one to tell them what they couldn't do, they tamed the land with ingenuity and brute force in equal measure. Forests were leveled to build towns. Rivers were diverted for farmland. Entire mountainsides were reduced to rubble for precious metals. Villages became towns, which became cities, then kingdoms, all without external interference.
But of course all has not been well in the time since the Merciful Compromise. For a thousand years, elves and dragons have looked to the west with worry and suspicion, knowing the Seventh Source lived on and waiting for the day Luna Tenebris' kindness came back to haunt them. For a thousand years, humans have looked to the east with envy and fear, coveting Xadia's magical power, while terrified of what would happen if that power was used on them.
However, after centuries of tension and countless revolutions of a seemingly endless cycle of fear and hate, a tipping point has been reached. The Dragon King, Avizandum, has had his three-hundred year reign cut short by dark magic, and his only heir slain while still in the egg.
Now the world stands on the brink of an all-out war that promises disastrous consequences for all.
Prince Callum never really considered himself a morning person, even after several years of being forced to wake up at the crack of dawn for whatever royal duties he needed to learn to fulfill. But this particular morning found him rising before the sun on his own, and in an even fouler mood than one would expect, all due to the chaos outside his window.
It was a thunderstorm the likes of which Katolis hadn't seen in months, and it would definitely be a problem if it kept up. Sure, the people of the kingdom had gotten a few hours' warning beforehand, but anti-flooding measures could only do so much against this kind of deluge. Anything close to a river was especially vulnerable, since most were probably already overflowing their banks. Not to mention damage done by wind and lightning strikes.
Nothing good would come from this storm. Beyond the normal tingles that ran throughout his whole body when a storm occurred, and the anxious energy that left him struggling just to sit still, this one felt...heavy. The dark clouds carried more than just rain and lightning; they brought ill omens with them.
Some would call the boy too superstitious, but like a hunter who knew something was wrong when the forest went silent, Callum had learned to heed the churning in his gut. More than that, he had also learned to fear it.
But maybe this one was different? Maybe it was just a storm and not some malevolent harbinger of things to come. Maybe he was just angry that it had robbed him of precious hours of sleep.
Since he knew trying to go back to bed was pointless, and he was too agitated to draw anything, Callum decided to peruse his old works and perhaps pick out something that deserved a do-over.
All was fine until he came across something that made his entire body lock up. To anyone else, it was just a relatively crude and slightly morbid doodle of a dragon roasting a humanoid figure made of marshmallows. Decent linework, but nothing noteworthy.
But for the young prince, it was a reminder of unbearable heat. Laying face-down on the floor, barely conscious and struggling to breathe from a combination of thick smoke and two cracked ribs. Feeling the tremors of a massive beast's footsteps, getting stronger as it got closer. Hearing the sinister rumble of its voice, tauntingly calling out to him.
"You cannot hide forever, little human. I WILL find you."
A bright flash from his window jolted the prince back to the present, followed by a crack of thunder that rattled the entire castle.
The prince heard a sharp gasp behind him and knew what would come next.
"Callum?!" he turned to regard the younger boy in the other room. Light brown skin just starting to show signs of sweat, poofy hair matted on the left side and bright blue eyes wide and darting around in panic before settling on him.
"It's just a storm, Ez; nothing to be afraid of." Callum said with a "reassuring" smile that, had he been closer, would've worried the younger prince even more. "Go back to sleep."
"I-I wasn't scared." the younger brother stammered as he settled back into his bed. "Bait was scared." he was practically pouting as he hugged his pet Glow Toad to him, drawing a grunt from the creature that almost sounded sarcastic.
Callum turned back to the drawing with a deep scowl and, after ensuring his brother wouldn't be able to see, lifted it up to a nearby candle.
"Who are you and what have you done with Prince Callum?" Soren demanded jokingly as he watched said prince browse the wooden swords on the training weapons rack.
"Is it really so strange that I'm here on time, Soren?" Callum asked, picking up a light "sword" with a rather long blade but a very short handle clearly designed for one-handed use. 'Nice weight, maneuverable…but I've got a feeling I'll need something more versatile.' he thought before putting it back on the rack.
"Considering I usually have to have someone hunt you down and physically drag you here for training? Yes, this is weird." Soren replied, having to clench his jaw tight to hold back his laughter when the younger male put back the arming sword picked up a hand-and-a-half sword; a.k.a. a bastard sword. 'I know it's mean, but that's just funny!'
Callum looked around the courtyard and noticed that every guard in the area and even a few of the castle's civilian residents were looking at him oddly. He had to admit that with how vocal he'd been about his dislike for weapons training in general, him showing up on time, on his own and without a single complaint wasn't normal.
"Okay, fine, it's weird," Callum relented, "but it's not like I'm suddenly looking forward to this. It's just…I dunno, maybe I ate too many jelly tarts last night, but I've got all this energy today! I need to burn it off before I start bouncing off the walls."
"But that's how you fight anyway." Soren snorted, referring to the boy's rather unique high-mobility combat style.
"That was ONE time!" Callum protested, remembering one of Soren's "scenario" spars meant to simulate encountering an enemy in the castle halls or otherwise less open spaces than the courtyard.
The knight had managed to back him all the way down the hall and corner him at the door to his and his brother's own bedchamber, and Callum only had two options: escape or surrender. He chose the former and after a deft parry that he would never admit was entirely accidental, he'd turned, ran up the door for two steps, then kicked off of it to flip over Soren's head and land behind him. The blue-eyed Commander had been so stunned by the move, that by the time he remembered the fight was still on, he had the tip of a wooden sword at his throat.
"It was a bunch of times." Soren countered with a smirk. "Which is why we're going to focus on the art of defense today!"
"But-"
"Defense, not evasion."
"But why would I need to defend if you can't hit me to begin with?" Callum asked, realizing how condescending his words sounded only after they left his mouth. "I meant-"
"There's gonna come a time when you can't rely on your flippy-dippy crap." Soren said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Maybe you'll be stuck in a tight spot with barely any room to swing a sword, let alone jump around like a cricket. Maybe you'll be the only thing standing between Prince Ezran and an assassin, and you bouncing all over the place would only leave him open to attack." the young man's expression softened somewhat when he saw the impact bringing the younger prince into the conversation had. "Look, I understand where you're coming from, okay? Yes, generally speaking, being slippery as an eel would serve someone of your size and build much better than standing there, trying to block and parry. But sometimes your only option is to stand there and block and parry. And if such a situation ever comes up and you can't do what you need to do, what happens?"
"…I'm dead." Callum sighed.
"Super dead. Now, you ready?" Soren unsheathed his own wooden longsword; a weapon similar to Callum's, but with both a longer blade and handle.
"As I'll ever be." the Prince replied, settling into one of his favorite stances, known as the Key Guard.
"I say 'defense training', and you take an offensive stance. Right."
"It can be used defensively as well."
"Not with the way you're standing." Soren said, nodding towards Callum's legs. "You aren't low enough and your feet aren't planted. You're in a position to move in any direction, when today's training is all about not moving."
"…Fine." Callum glanced down to see if there was anything to mark his position, and immediately saw a cracked brick that looked sort of like a frowning face. 'Defend the frowny face, got it.' he thought as he hunkered down into a more solid stance. "Better?"
"Let's see." Soren opened with a one-handed rising cut.
Callum just barely reacted in time, thrusting his sword down and into the path of the other weapon. Feeling the shock run up through his arms, he was sure that Soren would've lifted him off his feet if he'd used both hands.
"Good. You don't have the power or leverage to fully block my attack from that angle, so use your weight to stop the swing before I get full momentum." then, with a flick of his wrist, Soren rotated his blade out from under Callum's and went for a horizontal slash aimed at the boy's head.
Callum answered with a Hanging Guard, but the unexpected power behind the attack nearly pushed his own sword back into his face.
"Your timing's off." Soren pointed out. "Again, you don't have the strength to just take that hit, so you need to match your switch with my attack so your momentum can help cancel out mine. You also need to catch my blade closer to the base of yours, otherwise you turn your sword into a lever that lets me overpower you that much easier."
Another flick of the wrist and Soren had his wooden blade coming around to the right sight of Callum's face, which he blocked just like the first, though he'd timed it better and maintained a solid hold on his sword.
"Better, but…" quick as a blink Soren's left hand shot up to grab the pommel of his longsword and pivoted it in his right for a descending vertical cut. Callum kept his guard, but was forced to drop his sword when his fingers were struck. "You're still dead. Mind your crossguard; can't hold a sword if your fingers get chopped off."
"What if the attack goes through the crossguard?" Callum asked as he picked up his sword and tried to wiggle some feeling back into his fingers.
"Pfft, then it was a crappy crossguard." Soren snickered. "But in all seriousness, you come up against someone or something that can cleave through a crossguard? It's time for flippy-dippy, because you ain't blocking that anyway."
"Yeah, sounds about right." Callum chuckled sheepishly before settling into a stance that had him facing his opponent, legs spread and sword pointed almost straight down: the Change Guard. "Ready."
Soren regarded him with a skeptical look and took up a Wrath Guard with his sword resting on his right shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at the teenager, silently asking if he was sure about his current stance. When Callum didn't respond, Soren attacked with a wildly telegraphed overhead strike.
Callum met the attack with his own rising cut, surprisingly with enough force to bounce Soren's sword back, but halting his own sword dead. However that was part of the plan, as the knight used the momentum to spin the sword around for an undercut. Then, entirely on instinct he didn't even know he had, Callum shifted slightly to the right to avoid the cut and lunged forward to strike the inside of Soren's right elbow.
"Now you're getting it!" Soren smiled as he backed up a few steps. "Defense only has to last until you see an opening or you make one. Or, y'know, until you die. Let's see which comes first!" and with that he dashed forward in a two-handed Wrath.
Callum immediately brought his sword up in an Ox Guard, but misjudged his timing once again and already had his blade in position before Soren hit. The result was his right wrist giving way under the force of the blow. But instead of trying to resist it, he practically let the sword go limp in his hands. This caused Soren's attack to glance off to the right and Callum was quick to move forward into his space and snap his own blade forward, stopping it a hair's breadth away from his neck.
"Whoa!" the Commander froze, then eyed brown-haired youth suspiciously. "…Have you been practicing without me?"
"Not at all." the elder Prince shook his head. 'Well, not really.' he may not have practiced physically, but there were plenty of times when he sat in the courtyard with his sketchbook, watching the kingdom's warriors spar and go through their drills and exercises. With his eidetic memory it wasn't hard to recall exactly the techniques he had seen, though putting most of them to use himself was easier said than done.
"Huh…Then I guess I'm just that good a teacher!" Soren laughed as he disengaged.
"I guess so!" Callum agreed unconvincingly, thankful that Soren was the type to overlook even the most obvious tells if his ego was being stroked.
"But you've still got a lot to learn, and since you were here on time for once we actually have another hour to spare!"
The day was proving itself to be full of oddities, as the Prince found that he didn't balk at the very idea of spending another hour getting his backside handed to him by the Commander of the Crown Guard.
'Am I…having fun?' before he could dwell on the implications, Soren charged him, having mistaken his loose, bewildered stance as a Fool's Guard.
Having no real alternatives, Callum used it as such, bringing the sword up and presenting the point to halt the knight's advance. But Soren was quick to counter with a technique the prince remembered was known as the "Krumphau". Mostly a defensive move, but it could be used aggressively as an offensive parry designed to displace the opponent's weapon by batting it down and away while moving forward to get inside their space before they can respond.
Before he knew it, Callum found the tip of his sword in the dirt and could already see Soren crossing his arms back to carry the momentum into a vertical cut. He couldn't avoid it and he couldn't block it, so he went for the next best thing.
Just as Soren's "blade" made contact with the step-prince's left shoulder, the blond felt a firm tap on the back of his right knee. He smirked at the younger male and gave an appreciative nod before saying, "If all else fails…take 'em with you."
As he backed away, Callum noticed the gleam in Soren's eyes…and for once it didn't worry him.
What DID worry him was Soren adopting his own Key Guard.
Callum took up a Plow Guard to defend, but Soren started out using the extra reach of his weapon to a short, rapid thrust. Seeing only the point coming at him, the prince moved his blade to parry more on reflex than anything, falling for the feint. Soren pulled the thrust back just as quickly and, once Callum's sword was out of line, he stabbed forward with a full attack, jabbing the boy in the chest hard enough to make him grunt in pain and stumble back.
"Say, you might be onto something with this!" the blond snickered, but switched to a low "Vom Tag" stance anyway.
Callum just glared and silently reset his Plow Guard.
Thus began their longest exchange yet. Soren was relentless, but to his credit Callum gave no ground. He parried and deflected every attack, managing to outright block a few and even sneak in a couple attacks of his own, though none hit home. But as the spar grew more intense, Callum began to draw more and more from his own instincts as well as the memories of what he'd seen other people do. And because it was working so effectively, he gradually stopped really thinking about what he was doing.
Soren was quick to notice and quick to take advantage. He stopped trying to push Callum back, and instead focused on luring him away from the position he was supposed to defend. From there he lulled the prince into a rhythm of back and forth. Attack, parry, attack, parry, attack, parry; on and on until he was sure his opponent was just reacting and not thinking. Then he broke that rhythm, withdrawing his sword when he was supposed to parry Callum's attack. With nothing there to stop his swing this time, Callum overcommitted and put himself off balance for a moment; more than enough time for Soren to strike.
The knight went for a rising cut meant to smack Callum right on the chin as he tilted forward. Credit where it was due, the prince actually managed to get his sword up in time to knock the blow off target, but the awkward angle of his sword left him unable to keep his grip on it. The wooden sword flew into the air over his head and Soren went for the kill with an overhead strike that he'd feel bad for later because there was a bit too much spice on it.
But to his, and everyone else's immense surprise, they both ended up on the ground a second later.
Few had even seen it, and even they couldn't explain how it happened, but somehow in the time it took Soren to reposition his sword and bring it down for the finish, Callum had managed to reach up, grab his own airborne weapon by the blade and deliver a murder-stroke right down on Soren's collarbone at the exact same time the knight's weapon struck his own left shoulder.
"Ow…Oooowww…" Soren moaned. "Okay, what?"
"Oooh, you mmmmmm…Did you have to hit me that hard?" Callum grumbled.
"Did you have to hit ME that hard?" Soren countered, taking a moment to mentally thank the stars that Callum hadn't chosen a weapon with a pointier crossguard.
"Like you didn't deserve it?!"
"I kinda need my collarbone to do Commander of the Crown Guard stuff, Callum."
"Well I kinda need my shoulder to do…drawing…stuff…"
"…"
"Fine, I'm sorry." Callum said with a blatant eye-roll. "Next time I'll just let you hit me."
"That'd be great." Soren replied, snickering at the boy's glare as they both stood up.
The elder prince was about to retort when a familiar black-clad figure went strolling by, nose buried in a book and not paying any attention to her surroundings. Not at all unusual for Claudia, who was simultaneously the second smartest person he knew, behind her own father, and THE most scatterbrained.
He wanted to say something to her, but the butterflies in his stomach made him keep his mouth closed. And her brother being right next to him made him force his eyes not to follow the gentle sway of her hips…
Though he needn't have worried, seeing as how Soren was too engrossed in watching his sister about to walk straight into a tree to care about much else.
'Do it…Do it…Doooooo iiiiiiiit…' the blond chanted in his mind with every blind step his sibling took.
"Claudia!" Callum called out, causing her to look up.
"Oh!" she let out a squeaky gasp when she noticed she was nearly touching the tree, then turned to see who had called her. "Hi, Callum!" she greeted with a bright smile and a cheery wave.
Callum merely waved back, not trusting himself to speak again. His voice had very nearly cracked just then and he was NOT about to let that happen in the middle of the courtyard for all to hear.
"You're no fun." Soren deadpanned, idly twirling the practice sword in his left hand.
"Uh-huh. So, I think I did pretty well today! Call it a draw?" Callum said, a bit louder than necessary in hopes that Claudia would hear about his success.
"Nope. You lost." Soren replied as he jammed a pinky into his ear.
"...But that was a double; we BOTH went down!" Callum protested.
"True, but that wasn't the point. Today was about defense; YOU weren't supposed to move." Soren pointed down to the ground, "This is where you are," he then pointed behind them, "that, is where you're supposed to be."
Callum followed his finger and sure enough, there was the frowny brick, a good ten yards away.
"…Fine, okay, alright, let's go again." Callum said after a deep, grumbling sigh.
"…For real, who are you and what have you done with the prince?" Soren asked, looking genuinely taken aback.
"That was the best I've ever done against you in pure swordsmanship, whether I lost or not. I want to see if that was a fluke."
"Fine by me," Soren shrugged, "but do you remember how and why you lost to begin with?"
"Not…really?" Callum replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Because you weren't paying attention. You stopped thinking and started reacting, going with the flow." Soren explained. "But in going with the flow, you allowed me to control the flow, which meant I controlled YOU. You moved where I wanted you to, you attacked when I wanted you to, and you defended how I wanted you to. You let me manipulate you into a pattern; the mother of all no-noes in fighting."
"It won't happen again." Callum said firmly as he picked up his weapon.
"Whatever you say." Soren took a moment to look at their weapons and decided to throw the prince a bone. "Here, try this." he said as he tossed his own practice sword over to the boy.
"What? Why?" Callum inquired after catching the weapon.
"You've been using mostly traditional longsword techniques to defend, but you aren't using a longsword. That means your defense is weaker by default because your handle's too short for proper grips and leverage. Look, just try it and see what happens."
"Okaaaay…" Callum made his way to the weapon rack to deposit his hand-and-a-half sword and, courteous boy that he was, took up another longsword to throw to Soren.
The Crown Guard Commander noticed him wince as he did so, and rotated his own shoulders with a grimace. He'd be feeling that murder-stroke for a few days yet.
"How's the shoulder?" Soren asked.
"Not a problem."
"...You know she's not paying attention, right?"
"I've got no idea what you're talking about…"
Things had been going so well. Callum was holding his ground almost like he knew what he was doing, and Soren had started to break from his more rigid structure to attack from odd angles with more unorthodox attacks. It was a thrilling match, so much so that the entire courtyard had gone totally silent, save for the sounds of their weapons clashing and grunts of exertion. Everyone was into it. In fact, in one of the very few moments Callum had taken his eyes off Soren, he swore that Claudia had actually put her book down!
It was fun. It was liberating. It was glorious...Until it wasn't.
Once more his "gift" reared its ugly head as a curse, roiling within him like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. He felt it as a force that pushed out from his core, radiating out through his entire body. But with nowhere to go, it simply kept circulating, building up pressure with every cycle. But his body couldn't contain that force indefinitely; one way or another, there would be a release. Though it had never happened to-date, Lord Viren had given him plenty of incentive to make sure it never did, using the example of a steam vessel intentionally made with a faulty relief valve.
The man probably had no idea just how much seeing the relatively small vessel absolutely devastate the fake house had traumatized the young prince. Just the idea that he could become a living bomb if he wasn't careful was enough to make him never want to use magic ever again. But that wasn't an option. Steam explosions happened because the steam wasn't being used enough to keep the pressure down, and the same seemed to apply to primal magic. Elves probably didn't have to deal with it because they used magic naturally all the time, even without thinking about it.
But humans were clearly a different matter, so when he felt the pressure, Callum had only two options open to him: use it or waste it. Either way it had to be done carefully and, above all else, in secret.
Seeing as how there was no way to use the magic in the middle of a fight surrounded by prying eyes, there was only one thing to do. Callum threw the match with an overzealous thrust Soren saw coming from a mile away, followed by what he thought was a convincing stumble after the parry. By the time he righted himself, there was a wooden blade pressed against his left temple.
He tried to smile and brush it off, but the look Soren gave him…He knew the prince had given up, and he wasn't happy about it.
'Never thought I'd feel bad for disappointing him, of all people.' Callum thought. It worked out in the end, though, since Soren had no desire to talk about what had happened and quickly left the courtyard, leaving the prince free to gather up his sketchbook and make his way to the tree.
Claudia offered a smile and a "You'll get him next time", which these days straddled the line between an in-joke between them and actual encouragement. Callum accepted it as usual and took a seat on the dirt, tension finally draining out of him as he felt the energy flowing into the ground through his fingers.
Nothing else was said, with Claudia going back to her book and Callum too deep in his own head to even be nervous about being so close to his crush.
'I don't even get to enjoy a good spar.' he lamented bitterly, so focused on his own angst that he didn't notice Claudia leaving or Opeli arriving.
"Prince Callum." the stern woman spoke, startling him out of his dark thoughts. "The King needs to speak with you urgently."
Callum merely nodded and stood up, brushing off his pants. As he followed after the pale blonde, he found himself wondering, perhaps unfairly, if she would've said the same thing to Ezran, or would it have been, "Your father needs to speak with you".
He brooded all the way to the throne room, acknowledging his brother with only a wordless grunt when asked about the sword training. But he still had the wherewithal to school his expression before opening the door.
"Boys!" King Harrow greeted with false cheer that immediately put both princes on edge. "You're going on a trip, to the Banther Lodge!"
"But it's spring. That's the winter lodge." Callum pointed out, not bothering to hide his skepticism.
"Well, winter IS coming...eventually." the King offered while rubbing his chin in apparent thought.
"But what'll we do?" Ezran asked. "Everything fun there has to do with snow, or ice."
"Maybe you can invent new versions using...dirt, and rocks...You could build a dirtman! Or how about mud-sledding? That could be a thing!"
Callum just blinked owlishly, legitimately speechless. Did the KING just tell his sons, the PRINCES, to play around in the mud?
'That's...actually insulting.'
*Groan*
Even Bait wasn't buying it.
His ploy clearly unsuccessful, Harrow dropped his fake smile and knelt down in front of Callum.
"Look, this is something I need you to do." he said, looking his stepson dead in the eyes for the first time in...an uncomfortably long while.
"Dad-" Ezran started, but was shut down immediately.
"It's decided. You'll leave before sundown." and with one last look at the elder brother, accompanied by a firm squeeze of his shoulder, the King stood up and walked past them to the chamber door.
"Yes, sir." Callum replied stiffly. "Come on, Ez."
In the time it took them to make it back to the courtyard, Ezran seemed to have forgotten any and all misgivings, starting up a game of tag with his pet.
Were it anyone else, Callum might have resented them in that moment for being so carefree. But he would never begrudge or deny Ezran the right that had been stripped from him long ago: the right to be a kid.
He remembered the last time he was like that, beaming and unrestrained. Remembered it to the day, in fact; it was the same day he discovered that playing in the rain was a bad idea. Also the same day his mother discovered that the frequent little shocks and her hair standing on-end when she hugged him weren't from him running around on the rugs in socks. That was the beginning. A promise made to his mother as a four-year-old started him down the path, and eleven years later the only thing that had changed was that he had even more secrets to keep and lies to tell.
Lying to everyone to keep a secret for his mother. Lying to his mother to keep a secret for the King. Lying to Claudia and Soren to keep a secret for their father. There were even times he lied to the King himself to keep secrets for Viren.
It wasn't fair, not in the least. But since when were duty and obligation fair?
"-they'll kill the King?" Callum's eyes widened and his head shot up just in time to see High Mage Viren shut the window to his personal quarters, but not before catching the teen's eyes and giving him a somewhat hesitant nod.
"So that's why…" the young Prince muttered to himself, glancing over at Ezran to make sure the younger boy hadn't heard.
The look in King Harrow's eyes, the squeeze of his shoulder, the way the man had spoken directly to Callum the whole time, even though his real son was right there. His fears had been confirmed, his time was coming.
'But am I ready?' he thought as he continued to watch his sibling.
Was he ready to take on his greatest responsibility yet? Was he ready to sacrifice what was left of his childhood? Was he ready to sacrifice what little freedom he had left?
"Tag!" Callum jumped as he felt a small hand slap him on the forearm.
"Wha?" he looked down at Ezran's grinning face with wide, startled eyes.
"You're it!" Ezran said before dashing away, giggling like mad.
Callum couldn't help but smile, the weight of the responsibility he was soon to shoulder lifted if just for the moment.
"Get back here!" he demanded playfully as he gave chase.
If it meant keeping his brother safe, then he was ready.
While he started out intentionally lagging behind his little brother to humor him, Callum was soon forced to put some real effort into the game when Ezran proved himself to be an accomplished escape artist in his own right. They had practically run a full lap around the castle before the elder Prince finally managed to catch him in the dining hall, mostly because the darker-skinned boy had tired himself out finally.
"Whew!" Callum huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he sat leaning against the wall next to Ezran. "Where'd you learn how to do all that?"
"From you." Ezran replied between breaths.
Callum's heart actually skipped a beat. "Really?"
"Well yeah!" Ezran said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "No one else around here can do all that cool stuff!" he beamed.
Callum hadn't really given much thought to his "flippy-dippy crap" as Soren called it in years. It was just him doing what felt right, playing to his strengths. But in that moment, which would forever be burned into his memory even if it hadn't been eidetic, Callum had never been more proud of himself. Not even when he'd done his first successful backflip, to the applause of his mother whom he hadn't even known was watching.
But the moment was cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Both Princes looked up to see Lord Viren standing at the entrance to the dining hall, his ever-present silver staff at his side.
"Prince Callum, a word please?" the man asked politely.
"Of course, Lord Viren." Callum replied as he got up and brushed off the back of his pants before helping his brother to his feet. "Ez, go pack up for the lodge, I'll be over soon."
"'Kay, Cal." Ezran said, scooping up Bait in his left arm and holding his right out with a fist.
Callum returned the gesture and sent his brother on his way, knowing he probably wasn't going to do what he was told. But he had bigger things to worry about than Ezran goofing off.
"You have need of me?" Callum asked, straight-backed and stoic.
"No, Callum, I am not here to ask for your services; I've come to provide mine." Viren said. "In light of the…burden you may soon be forced to bear, I feel you have a right to know what's happening around you. This morning we were alerted to the presence of Moonshadow elves in our territory."
"Assassins." Callum said, more to himself than anything.
"Yes. Soren is leading a search party to find and eliminate them before sundown, but…" Viren trailed off, not quite sure how to word his next statement without denigrating his own son.
"Do you…want me to go with them?"
"Heavens no, boy!" Viren balked. "All the King and I have done has been to prepare you to defend yourself and your brother should trouble ever find you. Regardless of your skills, I would never send you out to look for trouble, even if the King would allow such a thing, which he most certainly wouldn't."
"Then what-"
"I told you: you deserve to know what's going on. Normally I would have all the faith in the world in my son and his soldiers, but you know how he is when it comes to magic. I gave him a moon moth to guide him, but I feel his impatience and ignorance will doom the mission to failure…"
"Forgive me if this is out of line, but you don't seem particularly bothered by that."
"I…can't say that I am, if I'm honest." Viren admitted. "I know what will likely be the cost if he does come back empty-handed, but at the same time I can't deny that a part of me, a rather large part, doesn't care so long as he comes back. For all his prowess with a sword, Soren has never faced a Moonshadow elf in combat. Very few have and lived to tell of it. Even without the moon to aid them, who knows what kinds of tricks they have up their sleeves?" the man sighed deeply and turned to the prince. "I'm sorry, Callum, I didn't come here to vent; you have enough on your plate as it is."
"With more to come, I'm sure." Callum scoffed, wincing when he realized he'd said it out loud.
"Unfortunately, yes." Viren nodded grimly. "Civilians are being evacuated from the castle as we speak, but there's a reason you and Prince Ezran are being taken all the way to the Banther Lodge. You see, equal exchange is a core component of all elven societies and governs much of what they do; including their methods of retaliation for any wrongdoing against them. We killed their Dragon King, and destroyed his only egg for the sake of our kingdom and indeed all of humanity. So I have no doubt they will seek to repay us in kind. A king for a king…"
"…A prince for a prince."
"Mm. And if they seek to truly destabilize the kingdom, as I suspect they do, I'd wager any amount of coin that they will take it a step further than 'an eye for an eye' and go after both of you."
"Do you really think they'd go that far?" Callum asked in little more than a whisper.
Yes, he'd heard the stories, but he also knew that they were just that: stories. Most of them passed down through generations and no doubt distorted and exaggerated over time, now told by people who'd never even seen an elf, let alone interacted with one. Knowing that, he couldn't picture them as the monsters they were made out to be.
But then Viren himself, a man with actual experience with elves, never had anything good to say about them.
The high mage paused for a moment, considering his words before finally answering, "Even if it hasn't started in earnest just yet, make no mistake, Callum: this is war. And in times of war, people are capable of anything. From the greatest heroics, to the greatest cruelties…and often those are merely two sides of the same coin. That is what you must be prepared for."
"...How? How do you prepare for something like that?"
"Keep your sword sharp, and your mind sharper."