Callum considers Aaravos, trying to imagine himself with the same starry skin and dark horns. It's an odd image but not an unwelcome one.
He'd have stood out a lot more in Katolis, he thinks.
Aaravos is watching him, a gentle sort of pride mixed with sorrow in his bright eyes.
"Aaravos?" Callum asks. "How do we fix my pendant? I-I don't want nightmares like that again."
"You must cast the spell again," Aaravos says softly, and there is a flash of grief that is there and gone across his face,"I will teach you how to better guard your sleeping mind. I do not think the pendant's protection, once renewed, will fail you so drastically again, but I would rather have over-prepared you than under.
"Being able to tell the difference between a dream and a nightmare, especially when the nightmare cloaks itself so insidiously, as well as being able to identify the dream-memories of the land itself, is something that a mage gifted with your abilities should learn," Aaravos continues.
"What are dream-memories?" Callum asks, frowning over the term.
"Sometimes," Aaravos says, "there are events so powerful, so meaningful, that they leave psychic scars on the land. The place where the Startouch elves made their first city is one, the Breach itself is another."
"Like the Barren Plains…" Rayla says, settling on Callum's other side, opposite Aaravos, her gaze thoughtful and still a little wary. Behind her, Zym is nosing a large golden blossom, chirruping happily.
"Also another," Aaravos confirms. "None sleep well while within its boundaries. The Dark magic left there is a corruption that pushes further with each passing year. It replays the events that have long since passed into legend among elvenkind."
Callum shivers. "I think I've seen some of that."
Aaravos closes his eyes, bowing his head. "It is...I am sorry that you saw that, Sihr."
The elf looks like he's in pain.
"Aaravos, are you okay?" Callum asks, reaching for Aaravos's hand.
"I will be fine, little najima," Aaravos says, and he squeezes Callum's hand gently."I...the pain will pass in time."
The elf's jaw tightens, and he draws in a sharp breath. "Sihr, the spell that I will teach you may be layered into your mother's pendant or another item should you so choose. It is a spell of the Stars, for they govern the realm of dreams…." he takes another shuddering breath. "The...nightmare you had...when you were there, did your pendant react?"
"It was cold, like ice," Callum says, thinking back. "I didn't know what it meant."
Aaravos nods. "Then the spell is not completely broken, for that is a sign of a nightmare. If it is warm, you walk within a dream-memory, if it is neither, than more often than not, you are here. Still," Aaravos says, "If you are ever unsure, hold the pendant in your hand and say, "nujum, twjhni 'iilaa bir al'aman." Literally translated, Stars, guide me to safety. It will enable you to escape a nightmare if one has taken hold of your sleeping mind."
Callum carefully repeats the words, memorizing each syllable until Aaravos nods acceptance. The words seems to flow easier for him now, as if they were only kept stored away, and are now being dusted off and used properly.
"Hey, um, what's the Startouch word for dad?" Callum asks.
"Alab," Aaravos says, and Callum repeats it soft and low. The word seems familiar, sparking some dim and distant memory that is held in warm, comforting darkness. "Mother would be 'umi."
"Would you like to learn as well, Rayla?" Aaravos asks.
"I mean, I guess," Rayla says, looking uncertain though the wariness has mostly eased from her posture, "I've never heard anyone speak Startouch elvish so I don't think it would be very useful."
"It is true that many of us withdrew from the world," Aaravos says, "It is rather unlikely that you would see any of my people on your journey but that is no reason not to learn. It might become useful in another way later on."
Rayla seems to consider this. "Alright," she says.
Aaravos smiles, quiet and soft, though Callum thinks it seems worn down, tired and he remembers how Aaravos had looked the first night they'd met, weary and in pain. Callum wonders if Startouch elves ever get sick the way that humans do, and if Aaravos has been suffering from long illness for ages. The thought troubles him.
"Aaravos?" Callum asks.
"Yes, Sihr?"
"You're not...um, sick are you?"
"No," Aaravos says with a soft laugh, "No, I am merely very tired, little one., and often troubled by an old injury, nothing more. Once, I was mighty, and now, I am but an echo of the man I once was. But I will teach you all that I can."
He studies Callum for a moment longer, seemingly searching for something and evidently finding it, because he nods slightly and continues, "If you are to learn the language of our fore-mothers, then we must start, as all things do, at the beginning..."
Aaravos feels joy swell like a great tide in his heart, watching Callum relax fully, the fear of the nightmare banished in the light of the truth that Aaravos has given him.
Teaching Callum elvish is a task that will take some time, though already, his son seems to have an innate grasp of it.
Aaravos wonders if it's the magic in his blood that has allowed for this, or if there was something in Sarai's family tree that she had never mentioned.
He sets aside the memories of long hours that they had talked of family, of faith, and so many other things. Here, and now, his son is speaking Startouch elvish, hardly fumbling over the letters and their unfamiliar sounds. Rayla seems content to listen rather than participate which Aaravos doesn't mind.
To hear another voice speaking his mother tongue, is balm to his shattered soul, it soothes the ache that has returned in his chest, the corruption of Elarion's magic still gnawing away at what was left of his magical core.
If he were at the height of his power, he would be able to purify the corruption easily, but even with the power that Callum had inadvertently unlocked, it would not be enough and it was getting worse.
Aaravos isn't sure how long he can keep it at bay, how long he can stem the corruption before it consumes him utterly, drives him mad, turns him into a creature of nightmare that wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice anything to escape.
He wonders, briefly, if that future is what Callum has seen, in that nightmare that had so twisted Callum's reality and shudders at the thought.
"Aaravos?"
"Hmm?" Aaravos glances over to find Callum looking at him quizzically.
"You're a little out of it," his son says.
"It has merely been a long time since I've heard another voice speak my mother tongue," Aaravos lies smoothly, silently hating himself for to speak falsehood to his son, though at least part of it is true. "The last one to speak it thusly was my wife."
"'ahabik, Aaravos," Sarai says in his memory, and her smile is warm and bright.
"Zharati was the name she carried, the flower that blooms in springtime, and we were wed in the same season, for she wished to walk beside me for all of our time in this world, and I desired the same."
The memories of that quiet, sacred ceremony flood Aaravos's mind with such clarity that it almost takes his breath away. Stars, she had been so beautiful, speaking those ancient words that would bind them together and he had been so filled with joy…
"You must have been happy," Callum says.
"I was," Aaravos says, "though it was long ago. She was..she walks with her ancestors now, amidst starlight and gentle darkness," Aaravos says softly, "I will join her one day, I hope. But it will be a long time before I see her smiling face again."
The memory of Sarai lying crumpled, blood spattering her face, the sound of her last gasp rattling in her throat, threatens to swamp him in grief, but he shoves it back, builds a wall against its rising tide, praying to the Stars that it will be enough.
Something must still show on his face because Callum's hand squeezes his again, comforting, a warm reminder of the present.
Aaravos takes a deep breath, smiling at his son, the only living remnant of Sarai's bloodline save her sister, Amaya and Callum's half-brother, Ezran.
His son lives, and is learning magic as he should. It will be enough for now. So he steadies himself, and resumes the lesson.
It's late when his guests depart, returning to the waking world, Callum giving Aaravos another tight hug before he goes.
Aaravos, seated once more in his study, reaches out to Earth, seeking stability once more in the wake of emotions and memories that have been stirred up. He idly traces the symbol within the runic circle, watching it glow brighter beneath his fingertips.
One day, he thinks, and there is a sharpness of power not his own to it, a hint of prophecy, true sunlight will fall upon this place, not the false light that holds sway in this tower adrift between the worlds.
He finds himself to bed shortly after and as he drifts to sleep, a voice that sounds like Sarai's whispers in his mind, a secret hope in a voice long dead, One day you will be free, One day you will walk the world again.
A/N: As ever, a big thank you to Moondancer5813 for all of her help! The next chapter should be up sometime within the next two weeks, most likely around the 10th. Thank you all for your patience and support!