"You have done so much more than I could have ever hoped for, Sihr," Aaravos says quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "and I would not ask for anything more of you. For now, you must rest, and to do that truly, you must leave here."
Callum frowns; he doesn't want to leave just yet, he's only just found his father.
Aaravos must see the turmoil on his face, and his hands squeeze Callum's shoulders again.
"Don't be afraid, my son," he says, "I will be here still. After all," he offers Callum a wry smile, "We've yet to fully break the wards."
"Yeah," Callum says. "How...how do I leave?"
Aaravos hums softly, standing up, "Come with me, my son."
Callum follows, the landscape warping around them, a blur of motion and they are back in the wide, white corridors of the star-tower, water pooling around their feet.
"This way," Aaravos says, striding forwards, the water parting as he moves. "A lesson for you, my son, in the Ocean, the last of the Primal sources, and the one, I fear, will be the hardest for you."
"Why is that?" Callum asks.
"It is the farthest from the Sky, the first of the Sources that you reached for, and farther still from the Stars, from your birthright," Aaravos says. They turn a corner and a doorway looms over them, stained pitch black, a doorway that Callum recognizes.
Water fills it, remaining impossibly within the doorway, blocking the way forwards.
"The way out," Aaravos says softly, "Lies through there. Once held by Corruption, it has been purified, though I cannot follow you through."
"It's underwater?" Callum asks.
"Obviously," Aaravos says dryly. "Ocean, Sihr, is chaos incarnate, where it may seem still, it is a maelstrom, and where the waves are roughest, you may find the calm of the eye of a hurricane. A peaceful haven amidst the tempest."
"Then how do I get through?" Callum asks, eyeing the water. It seems calm enough.
"You must carry your own calm with you," Aaravos says. "A haven within you, a peace that the waves cannot rend asunder. Focus on the path, let the Stars guide you home."
"I'll be back," Callum says, "I promise."
Aaravos smiles and hugs him tightly again. "I will be here, abnay. There is still much to teach you."
"And wards to break," Callum says.
Aaravos nods. "True. Go, Sihr, and do not look back. Uncertainty will only lead you astray."
Callum looks at his father, imprinting the sight of the man who would have raised him once upon a time into his memory, then he takes a deep breath and walks through the door.
It's like walking into one of the worst storms he's ever known. Water lashing at all sides, thunder booming overhead, the flicker of lightening somewhere above.
Callum squints through it, already soaked to the bone, finding a very dim trail of starlight illuminating a way forward. He follows it.
How long he wades through it, using what he knows of Sky to push back some of the rain, he isn't sure. He is aware of the rain pouring down, the deep rumbling of thunder that rattles his bones, the weight of the water slowing him down until there is no weight at all.
The sudden calm of it makes him stumble, almost causing him to trip, the lack of force pushing against him just gone. There is more light here, and he can actually see again.
He's standing on a lake, somehow not sinking beneath its surface. Above him, a yellow sky, unhazed by clouds. Grey winds sweep the water at least eight feet ahead of him, blocking his sight and as Callum looks behind him, he can see another wall of winds there.
He's found the eye of the hurricane, that sharp, calm center of the violent turmoil of wind and rain.
"Okay," Callum says slowly, turning to survey the area.
What was he supposed to do now?
Something rumbles below him and he looks down.
The water is crystal clear and he can see beneath the surface quite well.
There is something down there.
Callum squints, was that a door? Why was there a door down there?
"Ah, crap," he says, "Is that the way out?!"
Let the Stars be your guide, Aaravos had said.
Callum takes a breath, trying to quell his nerves. He'd gotten here, he could find a way out.
"Stars," he says aloud, the words seeming to ring like two pieces of crystal hitting each other. "Guide me home. Please."
He feels a tug, almost as if there is a thread tied to his chest, yanking him downwards.
There is a moment where he seems to hang midair, and then he is sinking beneath the surface, choking on water before he manages to close his mouth.
The thread is pulling him further down, towards the door.
Which is now opening-
Darkness pours out of it, tendrils whipping out with dreadful speed, and they seem to blot out all light, until the only thing that Callum can see is his own light, the small aura that all Startouch elves seem to have.
That and his father's horn, glowing like a beacon.
Callum can feel the corruption that seethes from the door, even as the thread pulls him close to it.
He twists, trying to get away from the awful feeling of decay and pain that the darkness exudes. He could have sworn that he'd purified the corruption!
Callum reaches out, aiming down, thinking of fire, and light, and above all else, he thinks of love.
For his mother, lost to him but loving him always, for his father, found once more, for his brother, kind and gentle, bearing the weight of a crown that was passed to him too young, for his step-father, who loved him despite their lack of shared blood, for his aunt, strong and unyielding, for Rayla, a loyal friend who could never bring herself to kill the innocent, and for Zym, the lost prince of a Draconic kingdom.
Callum feels the power rushing up, hot, almost too hot, boiling in his blood, the fire of a ten thousand stars unleashed in one terrible instant.
White light sears his eyes, the sound akin to the roar of a dragon, and Callum is dragged through the explosion, through the doorway, and the last thing he hears is the slamming of its heavy doors behind him.
"-llum?! Callum! Wake up, Callum!"
Callum blinks, struggling to open his eyes. "Wha-?" he rasps, coughing. His throat feels like sandpaper; how long had he been asleep?
"Oh, thank the gods!" Rayla exclaims, and slowly her face comes into focus, her eyes bright and worried.
Zym gives a happy crowing sound, peering over Rayla's shoulder, squinting at Callum.
"You've been out for two days-and..." Rayla says in a rush before she pauses, her own eyes widening. "Callum, your eyes!"
"What?" Callum says, his voice still raspy.
"You've got...well they look kinda like how Aaravos's do," Rayla says, "No whites of your eyes and all that."
"What?!"
"Yeah," Rayla says, fishing a mirror out of her bag, and shoving it in Callum's face.
She is right.
Callum's sclera are as black as Aaravos's, making his irises stand out, sharp and green. Callum reaches up and pats his hair.
No horns.
His star markings are visible though, glimmering under his eyes.
"Did something happen in the tower?" Rayla asks. "You were gone for two days, Callum, That's never happened before!"
"Well," Callum says, sitting up and immediately regretting it, head reeling from the movement. Rayla grabs his shoulder to steady him, handing him a flask of water.
"Drink slowly," she advises.
Callum sips at the water, trying to get his bearings.
They're still in the small cave they'd camped in when he'd gone to sleep. Rain is sheeting down outside, thunder rumbling beyond.
Callum can feel magic in the storm itself. It's actually not that unusual. Rayla has pointed out that everything in Xadia possess some form of magic, even the dirt has magic in it.
Though this storm feels different in a way that Callum can't quite put into words. It feels raw, a mixture of sorrow and anger that whips about on the winds that wail through the Spines.
"Something...did happen," Callum says, taking a moment to figure out what he wants to say; there's just so much.
"I...I found out what happened to my birth father," Callum continues, "he didn't die when Mom thought he did. He survived and I found him," Callum chokes on the words, the tears coming again,
"I found him, Rayla."
Rayla hugs him and Callum just sobs, with relief or joy or sorrow at all the years that he'd missed with his father, he isn't sure.
"I'm glad for you," Rayla whispers in his ear.
Callum nods against her shoulder, too overcome to say anything more.
It takes a while for Callum to stop crying, long enough that the rain has subsided, the sky beginning to lighten with the coming of dawn.
"My father," Callum says, "is...is...Aaravos."
It is so strange to say it out loud, but it fills Callum with joy that he can say it at all.
"Huh," Rayla says, her expression thoughtful, "Okay."
She's silent for a long moment after, long enough to make Callum nervous.
"You do look alike," she says. "Now that I think about it. Your faces are similar, if you know what to look for."
Callum nods.
"So," Rayla says, "what happens now?"
"I want to free him," Callum says. "He's been trapped there for so long, Rayla."
"And how do we do that?" Rayla asks.
Callum sighs. "Well, he's stuck behind a bunch of wards...though we did manage to take a few of them down. I mean, it could have gone better," Callum admits, "But a few are down now."
"How so?" Rayla asks, her eyes gaining a suspicious glint to them that Callum does not like.
"Well, I was trying to dismantle them and then some things exploded and then I got stuck but I managed to get out okay," Callum says hurriedly.
Rayla raises one eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "And was that why you were asleep for two days?"
"Kinda," Callum says, wincing at her expression.
"But you're okay now?" Rayla asks.
"Yeah," Callum says.
"Do you think you'd be able to take down the wards without things blowing up again?" Rayla asks, concerned.
"Maybe?" Callum says.
"The thing about wards," Rayla says, "is that sometimes there are back-up measures just in case the wards breaks. Maybe that's what caused the explosion you mentioned."
Callum can feel himself pale. "Oh, crap, what kind of back-up measures?"
"Well, wards can be tied to magical artifacts that can be enchanted to do other things," Rayla says, "I know that Uncle Tinker had wards at his forge that had a back-up spell that would douse everything in water if the forge got too hot."
"What kind of magical artifacts are there?" Callum asks.
"Pretty much anything can be enchanted," Rayla says, "Although something only becomes an artifact if it's enchanted by an Archmage. They are the protectors of Xadia, so they've got more magic than most. But most artifacts are like, magic mirrors, magic weapons, magic cubes even...Runaan always warned me about magic mirrors for some weird reason..." Rayla taps a finger against her lips, thinking.
Callum blinks. "Ah crap!" he cries, lunging for his satchel. "I completely forgot about the Key!"
"Key? You mean that cube?" Rayla asks, as Callum digs through his satchel, pulling out the carved cube.
"My step-dad left me a letter and in it he calls this," Callum waves the Key at Rayla, "The Key of Aaravos!"
"You think it would let him out?" Rayla asks, "like a key to a lock?"
"Maybe!" Callum says excitedly. "Although we've still got the wards to worry about, but the Key might help with that!"
Rayla purses her lips, "Maybe we should ask Aaravos what he knows about it. I don't know that much about magical artifacts beyond what my uncle told me and I think we should be careful about how we do this. I don't want you to go coma-Callum on me again."
"Yeah," Callum agrees. "That sounds like a good idea."
Rayla blows out a huge sigh. "Okay. We can talk more about it once I've slept. Because I've been awake for the last two days, and I am tired."
"I'll sit watch," Callum says.
"Alright," Rayla says, yawning. "Night, Callum."
"Night," Callum replies as she curls up beside the fire, Zym next to her.
The Dragon Prince chirps happily, and falls asleep in seconds.
Callum looks up at the clearing sky, finding the stars just barely visible through the hazy clouds.
I'll find a way to bring you home, Alab, Callum thinks, I promise.