Callum studies the small sun that seems to hover over Aaravos's palm, it makes the stars that dot his palm shimmer as it bobs gently up and down.
"Sihr," Aaravos says softly, "Are you going to cast?"
"Just a minute," Callum says, frowning as he turns the words he needs over in his mind, practicing the gestures he will use in his head first. "Okay, I think I got it."
"You sound unsure," Aaravos says. "You have cast spells of similar power before."
"You said that the Sun can be destructive though," Callum points out. "I'm just being careful."
Aaravos chuckles. "The Sun is life and destruction both, yes, but it is all in how you use it."
Callum nods and then twists his hands as he'd seen Aaravos do earlier, "Sol," he says sharply and grins as another tiny sun pops into existence above his hands.
"It's warm!" Callum exclaims.
Aaravos laughs again. "Did you expect it to be cold, abnay?" he teases.
"Well, no, it was just surprising is all," Callum says, flushing. He still has no idea what the endearment means, Rayla had translated it as something like, young one or child. She wasn't too sure, given the difference between the elven tongues.
Callum doesn't find it demeaning though, he supposes he is very young to Aaravos, and he's not about to ask the elf his age. Mom always said that was rude to ask of anyone.
"As with Inlustris, this may be used to light your path in darkness," Aaravos says, "It will also serve to keep you warm if necessary. Some parts of Xadia are quite cold at night."
"The desert was pretty bad," Callum agrees. "But we had a fire then."
"If…," Aaravos seems to hesitate, then continues. "If you have need of the Sun's more destructive nature, Sihr...be careful. It is not a Source to be commanded lightly and may lash out against its caster."
Aaravos extinguishes the orb above his palm before turning his hand so that his palm faces outwards towards the balcony's farthest railing, almost ten feet back from where they are sitting.
Callum's lessons mostly take place on the balcony now, and it is a nice change, to learn in the open air, beneath stars or the rich blue of a summer sky. Sometimes, Rayla and Zym join them, though Callum has noticed that it only happens when they are all asleep at the same time.
Tonight, it is just Callum, as Rayla and Zym are sitting watch.
"This will be loud," Aaravos warns, and Callum lets his own spell fade, allowing him to put his hands over his ears.
"Sol trabem," are the words that Callum can read on his mentor's lips and then there is a brilliant flash of light on the horizon, a thunderous roar that he can hear even beneath his hands pressing hard to his ears. Looking towards the railing, Callum can see the vines that once wound over it are scorched, falling to the ground in pieces, even as smoke rises some distance beyond the railing, a vast plume that spirals at least twenty feet upwards.
"Wow," Callum says, lowering his hands.
"It is an explosive detonation of the Sun's energy," Aaravos says, "Not one to be used without forethought. I've only used it here to show you what to expect and to be careful if you should need to use it."
"Okay," Callum says. "Could the Sun be used for healing then, if it is life as well as destruction?"
Aaravos makes an approving hum, "It could be, though depending on who you're trying to heal, it might be better to use the Source that is closest to them. If Rayla were injured and you wanted to heal her, for example, you would use Moon magic, or Star magic if the Moon were hidden. The Sun would not be the best option in that situation."
He studies Callum for a moment. "If you were ever injured, Stars forbid it be so, then you would reach for the Stars before any other Source. It is your birthright, it will aid you if you call."
"What would I say?" Callum asks, "Something like heal me?"
"Close," Aaravos says, "nujum , 'aetani alshafa'. Stars, give me healing."
Callum sounds out the words, slowly, carefully. "It doesn't sound much like the other Stars spell you taught me. Why's that?"
"Different language," Aaravos says. "But now that you are learning our people's tongue, I shall teach you the proper wording. Inlustris becomes mada' bialnujum."
"A lot more complicated then," Callum says. "Why didn't I learn it that way before?"
"I did not know of your blood then," Aaravos says quietly. "We share blood in common, Sihr. It would be dishonest of me to not teach you of our people's culture and history. Our language is rarely spoken openly in the waking world, I would be honored if you would share it with the world once more."
"Though I can't speak your name still," Callum says.
"It would be unwise," Aaravos says softly and there is a darkness in his bright eyes, a sudden hardness that makes Callum worried. Against his chest, beneath his shirt, the pendant is neither cold nor hot, a reassurance that he does not walk within a nightmare.
Callum frowns. "Will you tell me why one day?"
Aaravos studies him for a long, long moment, and Callum wonders if he's considering possibilities, scrying the future as all Startouch elves can.
Callum has never seen a scrying performed, though Aaravos had once described it as combing through the threads of the world's history, to find what you need to know.
"I-I will," Aaravos says, and though his voice shakes, it is a promise that Callum knows he will honor.
It takes time, longer than Aaravos would like to find the words that he can share with Callum, speaking of the past, particularly of Elarion, when the corruption she had created still gnaws at him, is...difficult.
Even telling Sarai had been easier, though perhaps that was because she was older, more experienced in the world than Callum was.
So it is much later when Aaravos feels ready.
The moon shines high above the tower, stars glinting in the ebony dark, and seated on the smooth stones, Aaravos leans back against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He is as ready as he will ever be, at least for this discussion.
"Sihr?" he calls, and his son turns from his examination of a flowering moon lily by the railing.
Aaravos beckons Callum to him, pulling him into a hug that Callum returns.
"Aaravos? What is it?" Callum asks.
"You asked me," Aaravos says, "How I came to this place, why I am held here."
Callum nods.
"The first apprentice I ever took was named Elarion, a human girl who came to me, eager to learn, and she, like you, Sihr, had an instinctive grasp for magic.
"For years she studied, but her slow learning angered her, for she wished to cast as swiftly as I did. So she sought another way. She left my tutelage and traveled, seeking knowledge, and she found it-"
Aaravos pauses, remembering.
"The tiniest scrap of knowledge, and she would need more power than she ever possessed to make it into reality, to spread it farther than we elves could have ever dreamed. And she knew exactly where to find that power.
"What you must understand, Sihr, is that we elves are made of magic. It created us, it binds us to the Sources. Without it we are shapeless, without form. To undo that working, that sacred creation, is to murder our very souls, casting us into nothingness, unbinding us from our ancestors, dooming us to never walk the world again. It is...horrific. An act of unfathomable hatred.
"And yet, it is what she did," Aaravos stops, and again he can see her face. Her eyes, bright beneath the light of the moon, her hands pressed to his chest, wrenching free his heart as the tears ran down her cheeks. "She came to me, greeted me as one returning home from a long journey. I suspected that she had found something, but did not press her. I embraced her, and she cast her spell, the first spell of the Dark, and tore my magic from my heart.
"She left me there, fleeing into the night while I lay dying-" Aaravos stops again, pressing one hand to his chest. He can feel the corruption in there throb, hot and painful at the very thought of Elarion's treachery. "My screams brought others running and another of my people was able to save my life, though it was many moons before I could even move.
"By then, news of Elarion's magic had reached our Council of Elders and they hunted her down, executed her and then came for me. They blamed me for her discovery of Dark magic and condemned me to the tower, a realm apart from the waking world.
"This place," Aaravos says softly, "is meant to be my grave someday."
Curled into Aaravos's embrace, his head leaning against Aaravos's shoulder, Callum looks stricken at the words, but there is a stubborn determination building in his eyes, and Aaravos thinks that Callum looks so much like Sarai, carries so much of his mother's hardheadedness and tenacity.
If anyone, he thinks quietly, could ever figure out a successful escape plan, it might be Callum. With his power and will, there would be little the wards would account for.
Aaravos no longer has the power to even try to breach the wards again.
His power is waning, and Aaravos prays to the Stars that it will last long enough for him to teach Callum how to connect to each Source. He has learned Sun, Moon, Stars, Sky, and Earth readily enough; only the Ocean remains and Aaravos has the sense that that Source will be the hardest for his son to master.
"Have you tried to get out before?" Callum asks.
"Once," Aaravos says, "It did not end well. I was badly injured and part of the tower was destroyed in the attempt."
He remembers waking to the scent of blood and fire, his vision hazy, the taste of iron heavy on his tongue, confusion thick as a fog in his mind.
It's strange to still remember both the fog and Sarai at the same time, a sort of dissonance that he tries not to think about too often.
"Do you think I could try?" Callum asks, "to get you out, I mean?"
"I-I do not want you to hurt yourself in the attempt, Sihr," Aaravos says. "The last time was...rather explosive..."
Callum winces. "I could shield?"
"Yes, but you do not know how to dismantle wards yet, Sihr," Aaravos says.
"Then teach me," Callum says, "I want to help."
"Oh little najima," Aaravos says, hugging him again, feeling tears spring to his eyes. His son knows not what hope he offers him. "I fear there is little you could do."
"Let me try, Aaravos," Callum pleads, "You can't tell me all of this and not let me try to free you!"
Aaravos looks down at his son, finding for the first time, some of his own features reflected back at him; he wonders how he never saw them before.
Callum has the same high cheekbones, the same long lashes, the same proud set to his shoulders that Aaravos has seen as a glimpse in his mirror as he walks by each morning.
Stars, all Aaravos wants is to be free, to be able to walk beside his son in the waking world, but...he remembers that roar of flame, the sound of Sarai screaming, the terrible crack of his head against stone and-he can't.
This is his son. His precious child, he cannot allow him to come to harm.
"Aaravos," Callum says, and there is a sharpness to his son's voice that makes Aaravos start. "I know I'm young, but you've said before that I'm powerful, let me help you. You're like family to me-"
And oh, how Aaravos's wounded heart aches at those words, but we are family.
"-and I want to see you free of this place," Callum says.
Across the years, Sarai's voice comes back to Aaravos, sharp as her son's "-I leave no one behind-I will not leave you alone again-"
Aaravos sighs. Like mother, like son.
"If anything goes ill," he warns Callum, "I will make you wake up. I won't take risks with your safety."
"Okay," Callum says, satisfaction clear on his young face. "Now teach me how to dismantle wards, Aaravos."
A/N: Early update as a birthday present to myself and because I really wanted to share this with all of you! 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. Thank you all for your patience and support!