Rayla stares at him for a long moment, studying him, lavender eyes flicking from his ears to his face and back again, lips pursed as she thinks. Then she settles back on her heels and nods, "Okay."

"O-kay?" Callum asks, confused. "You're not mad I hid it from you?"

"Oh, I am," Rayla says. "We're friends and friends don't keep secrets from each other, yeah? But—I know that everyone's got secrets," Rayla continues. "And sometimes it's safer if we keep them close to our hearts," she places one hand over her own heart.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Rayla," Callum says earnestly. "It's only something I recently found out myself and...I wasn't sure how to bring it up."

Rayla mulls the words over. "Well, you've told me now, and that's that," she says firmly. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Ummm," Callum says, "I've been having dreams of someone teaching me magic," he squeaks, flushing under the piercing look Rayla is giving him.

"No dark magic?" Rayla asks.

"No dark magic. Um, he's an elf," Callum says.

Rayla frowns. "Callum...are you sure he's real? Dreams can be strange and we've both not slept well in a while."

"He's real," Callum insists, "and besides, I can do the spells he taught me! Look," he racks his brains for the simplest spell he knows. "Um, Inlustris!"

Tiny stars appear around them, glittering in the pre-dawn darkness.

"That's...something," Rayla says, tone awed as she passes one hand through the glittering stars, "Alright, and he's just teaching you magic?"

"Yeah. He's a Startouch elf, at least, he says he is, and...my dad was a Startouch elf," Callum says softly, "I've never seen an elf like that looks like him before. Like a part of the night sky, stars on his skin and everything."

"That...sounds like a Startouch elf," Rayla says cautiously, "at least like the stories my Uncle Tinker used to tell me when I was a wee little one."

"So you don't think I'm crazy?" Callum asks.

"I think we're all a little sleep deprived and therefore somewhat crazy already, but I think you're not completely crazy," Rayla concedes. "And we haven't met anyone else who could have taught you any new magic. So...I believe you."

Callum flops back onto the ground with a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

"Callum," Rayla says, "Does Ezran know, about your birth dad?"

Callum shakes his head. "Not yet." He bites his lip, thinking of his little brother who now would bear the weight of a kingdom across his young shoulders.

"Callum," Rayla says again, and Callum looks up at her as the rising sun begins to creep over the horizon behind her, making her features soft and warm, "Ezran is one of the nicest people I've ever had the good fortune to meet. He's your brother, and family sticks together." Her mouth twists in a wry smile. "Even through tough situations like this."

"Thanks, Rayla," Callum says, relieved, then asks,"You have an uncle named Tinker?"

"Well, I couldn't pronounce his name when I was little and he was a tinker by trade so I just called him Tinker, and the name stuck," Rayla says, flushing as she begins digging through her pack for breakfast.

"I called Aunt Amaya, Aya for the first few years according to Mom," Callum offers. "Couldn't manage the letter m for a while."

Rayla snorts, half-hiding her grin as she pulls out a handful of dried jerky, handing over a piece to Callum and tossing another to Zym, who gnaws on it with little, high-pitched squeaks.

"You know," Rayla says around her mouthful of jerky, "Startouch elves are rare even in Xadia. No one's seen or heard from them in over a thousand years."

"My teacher...he says that they are fewer in number now, so that checks out," Callum says.

"So, you're half Startouch elf and half human," Rayla says. "Interesting combination, that. It might help us when we get to the Dragon Queen. They might not immediately want to throw you in a jail cell."

"Because I'm not entirely human," Callum guesses.

"Aye," Rayla agrees. "No idea on how everyone will react, but..."

"It's a start," Callum says.

Rayla nods, turning to pack up camp. "Come on, we should be almost out of the plains by nightfall."

"That'd be great," Callum says. Zym chirps agreement, flapping his wings enthusiastically, sending the little Dragon Prince spinning through the air.

Callum laughs at the sight of the dragon making aerial loops, tongue hanging out the side of his snout.

Relief at Rayla's acceptance blooms like a flower in his heart, warm and comforting.

There's hope yet.

Aaravos won't deny being startled by Callum's sudden disappearance but reaching out with his magic, he finds his son well, if a little confused by his sudden awakening. Apparently, his companion had woken him if the scene Aaravos views is any indication.

Satisfied that Callum is unharmed, Aaravos withdraws to the tower proper; Callum is allowed his privacy and Aaravos won't intrude any more than he has to.

Sitting before the cold hearth, Aaravos lets the weight of his memories, shrouded no longer, pull him down into their depths.

"Where has your mind wandered, Aaravos?" Sarai's voice is soft, curious as she wanders over to him, one slim hand reaching up to touch his cheek, her skin warm against his.

"Far afield, where the stars once met the horizon, zahrati," Aaravos murmurs. "The past."

"Could you tell me about it?" Sarai asks.

"It is a long story, Sarai," Aaravos says.

"We have plenty of time," Sarai replies, leaning close, resting her head against his shoulder, allowing her arms to drop and curl around his waist.

Aaravos hums softly and settles his own hands at the small of Sarai's back, a gentle pressure against her spine.

"Once," Aaravos says, his gaze distant, and speaks aloud the words he has not spoken in centuries, the only story that he has not yet shared with her. The story of Elarion, and the birth of Dark magic. "when the world was young..."

Sarai's spear clanks against Aaravos's battlestaff, and Sarai grumbles something under her breath, pushing Aaravos back towards the door to the garden. Sparring is the norm when she gets bored with reading and Aaravos is happy to indulge her. It gives him a chance to stretch old muscles and learn new things.

"You're cheating, love," Sarai huffs.

"Am I?" Aaravos asks, smiling widely, "Is using my Stars-given talents so wrong, zahrati?"

Sarai narrows her eyes at him, "Yes, yes it is. Especially when you give me that look."

"What look?" Aaravos asks coyly.

"You know what look," Sarai says, and lunges with a cry of triumph, knocking Aaravos to the ground with the butt of her spear shaft and touching its point ever so gently to his throat.

"I win," she says simply.

"Indeed," Aaravos rasps. Stars, he is old if so short a fall can wind him.

Sarai kneels beside him. "You alright?"

"A bit winded," he admits, "You fight well, Sarai."

"You held your own as best you could," Sarai says with a grin and leans down to kiss him.

"My joy is your joy, my sorrows are your sorrows," Sarai says, and there are bright tears in her eyes as she speaks the marriage words of old. "All that I have is yours, and all that I am, I share with you. And when the twilight of our lives should come upon us, I will not fear it for I walk with your heart beside mine, alone no longer."

In her shaking hands, the silver torc gleams as she places it around Aaravos's throat, the warmth of the blessing filling Aaravos with a joy unlike anything he's ever known.

And around her neck, the horned pendant glows with starlight.

For the first time in a long time, Aaravos feels hope. He will find a way out of this prison. He will not condemn his child to a life within this cell. And then, he finds it, a loophole, a possibility that Sarai and their child could use.

He breathes a sigh of relief as Sarai makes the crossing and then she turns, looking to him. "Ready?" she calls, her face beautiful in the glimmering light of the opened portal. Aaravos nods, already striding towards it. It will be a rough crossing, he knows, and the portal won't last long.

He is almost through, his hands touching Sarai's, when the air shudders. Aaravos looks up, gasping at the sight of the wards beginning to implode, a failsafe against any escape attempt, that are now detonating with all the force of a dragon's fiery breath.

There is no time, and Aaravos makes his choice. He will shield Sarai and their child and take the force of the blast himself.

It is a split-second decision, and then he slams into the side of the tower, crumpling, the last sound he hears Sarai's desperate scream as the portal slams shut upon a future that could never have been his.

There is a high, keening sound that Aaravos can hear, and it takes him a moment to realize that it's coming from him, building into a wail of grief that shatters the glass windows.

It cracks the stones, makes the air tremble with its power and Stars above, how Aaravos grieves. His son has grown up without him, his beautiful, clever wife lies still and cold within a tomb of ancient heroes, lost to him until he himself passes into the next life.

Callum doesn't even know his name, the very sound of its truth makes the child uncomfortable, an intrinsic part of his being that speaks to his heart.

So Aaravos bows his head and weeps, vowing to do everything in his power to raise his son to be the shining, brilliant mage he knows he can be. He can do that much for Sarai's sake.

Callum watches Zym hover as they make camp for the night. True to Rayla's prediction, they're almost at the edge of the Plains.

"I'll take first watch," Rayla says, and Callum nods, curling beside their fire and closing his eyes.

When he opens his eyes again, it is to the tower in ruins.

The windows are shattered, the floor cracked, part of the roof is missing and through the hole, Callum can see stars glittering overhead.

And in the middle of it all, is Aaravos, kneeling atop the cracked circle of Primal symbols. His shoulders are shaking and the only sound is that of faint sobs.

"Aaravos?" Callum calls, "Are you okay?"

Aaravos gives a great shuddering sigh and shakes his head. Broken glass litters the ground around him. Callum steps cautiously over it, taking care as he kneels beside Aaravos.

"Can I help?" Callum asks.

Aaravos sighs and when next he speaks, his voice is raspy as if he's been crying a long time. "No, little one. I grieve that which was lost to me. The years cannot be turned back and I must bear the weight of them regardless."

"I'm sorry," Callum says, though he doesn't know who or what the elf is grieving.

"I remember now," Aaravos murmurs. "I was wed once, to a young woman who was kind and fierce. And I remember that she was lost to me."

"You were married?"

"Once," Aaravos says, and he looks as if he is going to cry again, "A long time ago. She rests among the stars now, and I will meet her again when my time has ended. I forgot her, how could I have forgotten her? She was like spring, sweeping away the darkness of winter. She brought such hope with her and then I lost her. Lost everything."

Callum hugs him. "I'm sorry, Aaravos."

Aaravos clings to him, shaking again with sobs, murmuring words in elvish that Callum cannot yet understand. It's a long time before Aaravos is still.

"Forgive me, little najima," Aaravos says, and his voice is worn and tired, "I should have been more...composed."

"It's okay. My Aunt Amaya says that grief does strange things to people," Callum says. "I know after Mom died...I would wander around in her rooms and I'd watch the door, and I'd wait, because she could be coming back, you know. And I wanted to be there, to welcome her home. Because she had to be coming back-" Callum chokes on the words.

Aaravos hugs him, tight and comforting, "Your aunt sounds very wise, Callum."

"She has a wicked sense of humor," Callum adds. "And she's strict."

"Sometimes," Aaravos says slowly, "Parents...and aunts...must be strict with their children, so that they may learn and grow."

"Doesn't mean we have to like it," Callum says and Aaravos chuckles, a watery sound that is very out of place coming from the tall and elegant elf.

"Very true," Aaravos says and he brushes away the last of his tears, pulling away from Callum. "How have you been since our last meeting, Callum?"

"I told my friend Rayla about my father," Callum says, "She's okay with it."

"I am glad," Aaravos murmurs, a soft, sad smile on his dark face. "Did I not tell you that it was unlikely that your friends would reject you?"

"You did," Callum acknowledges, "I still worried though."

Aaravos hums, looking around the tower's ruin, and makes a series of gestures that Callum can barely follow.

Glass shards lift from the floor, rising to their former positions, and the windows repair themselves, the roof following suit and the stones shifting into alignment once more.

"That's better," Aaravos says quietly. "I admit I still feel unsettled, little one, so I will meditate. You are welcome to join me and learn of the Earth."

"Okay, if I'm not intruding or anything," Callum says.

"You are not," Aaravos says, and closes his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. "Earth is strength, balance and stability. I desire stability and will be casting with that intent."

Aaravos's hands are shaking when he raises them, eyes still closed, and begins drawing glowing green lines of power that seem to hum as he works.

The tune is soft and gentle and Callum finds it calming, a soothing lullaby that reminds him of his mother singing him to sleep when he was very little. And Aaravos is singing softly just as Mom had been, though the words are foreign and hard to understand.

Aaravos continues to sing the words, over and over, features calming with each successive repetition, until at last his face is still and serene.

"Any better?" Callum asks as Aaravos opens his eyes.

"Yes," Aaravos says, "Or at least as much as I can be, given what I've remembered at long last."

Callum isn't sure what to say. It must be devastating to know that you had been married and then lost that person and forgotten them. He doesn't even think Dad could ever forget Mom. Some of the advisers had suggested he remarry some time after Callum's tenth birthday but Dad had refused point-blank to discuss it.

"Callum," Aaravos says quietly.

"What?" Callum asks.

"Would you like to learn more of the Sources?"

"Yes," Callum says, "I mean, if you'd like to tell me, I don't want to push you."

"I would like a distraction from my grief, Callum," Aaravos says, "Though I intend to teach you regardless. These memories are...merely a reminder that though I may be trapped here, I can still do some good in this world."

Not for the first time, Callum wonders why the elf is trapped here and if he will ever learn the story one day.

"Since I mentioned the Earth earlier," Aaravos says, "We'll begin there. You know now their concepts, their ideals. Earth may be used to shield, to protect, to draw things into balance that were not before."

"Is that what you did to repair the tower?" Callum asks.

"Correct," Aaravos says.

"Another spell would be Murum lapideum," Aaravos says, and the stones shift behind him, a wall rising above him. "Stone wall in the common tongue. A shield against most projectile weapons, and depending on the strength of your will, shall hold even against magical attacks."

The wall sinks down into the floor again as Callum watches.

"Is there a spell to create something like a stone tent, if we're traveling and have no shelter?" Callum asks. He doesn't fancy getting caught in another rainstorm without shelter again. It'd taken days for his clothes to dry out.

Aaravos thinks for a moment. "Lapis tectumque," he says, and his fingers trace a symbol through the air. Two stone slabs slam together at an angle over Aaravos's horns and Callum jumps at the sound though Aaravos is unperturbed. "It is a crude shelter but it will suffice if you have nothing else. Now," Aaravos says, "Watch closely," he draws the symbol again, slower this time, but the spell does not activate, held in some kind of stasis.

Callum studies the symbol. "Can I try it?"

Aaravos nods, "Remember what Earth is, and what you intend the spell to do. It is your will that makes the magic strong."

"Okay," Callum says, tucking his tongue between his teeth as he concentrates, hands up, drawing the same symbol that Aaravos had. "Lapis tectumque," he mutters and winces as the stone slabs slam together over his head. "Hey, it worked!"

"Well done," Aaravos says softly. "Reversing it merely requires concentration, no words. You wish the stones to return to their places, and it will be so."

"Okay..." Callum says, a little less sure on this part.

Aaravos smiles, though it is still a sad smile, the stone slabs sinking back on either side of him.

Callum concentrates, willing the stones down and watches in awe as they obey.

"Very good," Aaravos murmurs.

"Hey, Aaravos?" Callum asks.

"Hmm?"

"How did you learn sign language?" Callum asks, and signs the words at the elf as he speaks them aloud.

"My wife was a learned woman, and taught me during our courtship," Aaravos says. "She used to say 'Words of the hands speak-"

"-louder than the voice," Callum finishes. "Mom used to say that too. Aunt Amaya can't hear so she and Mom taught me sign so we could talk. Then I taught it to Ezran."

Aaravos smiles again, fondness warring with sorrow in his features. He seems on the verge of saying something, but shakes his head. "Last we spoke, you asked if I could try to help...remove the uncomfortable feeling you have when your name is spoken, the name your father would have given you," Aaravos says, "Do you still want me to try?"

There is something that sounds like...Callum is hard pressed to define the emotion he hears but it sounds like...apprehension?

"Yes," Callum says firmly.

Aaravos's gaze hardens, sharp as diamond and the look changes his face, makes it cold, aloof and a touch eerie. "Give me your hand, Callum, I will do what I can."

A/N: A big thank you to Moondancer5813 for helping me out with sketching out ideas for this chapter! The next chapter will either be out in two weeks or next month; I will keep you all updated.