Callum gapes at her. "Um, you can see me?" he squeaks.
"I can see thee, yes. Thou art clear as any living, speaking being. Name thyself, thou stand within the solar of the Lady Altumanina, Granddaughter of the Ever-Bright Rahma, the Miracle-Bringer."
"I am Sihr," Callum says.
"Sihr," the lady Altumanina says, "A good name. What art thou, Sihr? Magic swirls about thee as a tempest, and sings at thy approach. Never hath such a creature appeared afore me."
"I...I'm a half-elf," Callum says.
"A child born of elven light and mortal blood?" Lady Altumanina's eyes are piercing, suddenly hard and cold as winter. "Such a creation hath never occurred afore."
"I'm...something new, yeah," Callum says cautiously.
She paces around him, the weight of her gaze heavy. "I admit that thou hold power, Sihr, and that thou art trained somewhat. Pray thee, what is thy lineage, and who hath taught thee?
"My lineage?" Callum asks.
"Thy mother and father, from whose bloodline doth thou spring?" the lady presses. "Your star-marks art...indistinct. It is unusual, though not uncommon for the dream world to blur things."
Callum freezes. He can't say Aaravos's bloodline, for his father was locked away, considered a traitor to his people. He doesn't know what other Startouch thought of the entire situation, but it was probably not a good idea to bring it up.
He fumbles for a lie, trying to find something.
Wait….Aaravos had once called Callum's mother Zahrati, a Startouch name, Callum now knows. Perhaps he could use that.
"My mother was called Zahrati," Callum says slowly. "I do not know of my father's name."
It isn't a lie, not really. He didn't know his father's name for a long time.
Altumanina considers this.
"Zahrati...a strong name, fitting for the mother of a creature such as thee," she says, "does she yet live?"
"She died when I was young," Callum says.
"T'would explain why she curbs thy magic not," Altumanina says with a sniff, "And thy teacher now? There is magic that guides thee, that is not thine own."
"Najima," Callum says, inwardly wincing, his father was once known as the Morning Star, it's close enough at the moment,"He's been teaching me."
"Hmm," Altumanina says, "He might teach thee to better respect the dream spaces of others. Thou didst not knock upon my door and ask entry."
"Sorry," Callum says, "I didn't mean to intrude. I was wandering."
"That much is plain to even the simplest mind," Altumanina says. "Thy mother was Zahrati, was she from Estanna? South of the Spines? Or perhaps, Elmet, in the west? Or Gwyneth?"
"We...lived on our own," Callum says, "Away from others."
"Interesting," Altumanina says, "Thou hath been taught from birth then, as all our people art. Didst thou learn with other students? Or hast thou only learned with thy teacher and mother?"
"I learned from my mother and my teacher," Callum says. "None else."
It's weird to speak similar to her, in the moment, but Callum is nothing if not persistent.
Altumanina's lips curve into a smile. "Thou art a quick pupil, young Sihr. Pray thee, what spell didst thou learn first?"
"mada' bialnujum," Callum says, and the twinkling stars appear around him.
Altumanina nods in approval, "Many of our children hath learned such a spell when first they reached for their magic. I taught mine own son the same..." her face grows dark, "my miracle, my muejaza."
She closes her eyes, a deep sigh escaping her. A nearby candle flares to life with white light as she does so. Callum absently notes it is a red candle.
In his memory, he can hear Mom, explaining the meaning of the candles before Year's End, when his family would gather for the festivities.
'Red is for the gift of life that Jahara has given us, White for Our Lady's wish that Her children might live in peace amongst each other, Purple for Our Lady's wish that we might learn from one another, that our hearts would ever be open and kind to those who are our kin and who are not..."
In his memory, Mom's voice is strong and clear, bringing to mind very different days, where he and Mom lived far away from the palace of Katolis, amidst the rolling hills of her ancestral home.
He wonders if lighting candles has the same meaning for Startouch as it does Katolisians.
"Forgive me," Altumanina says softly, "I am old, and hath lost much in my lifetime. I remain, only with the hope that I might walk beside my ancestors when I pass to the stars."
"Thou hath no living family?" Callum asks, stumbling slightly over the words.
"My husband passed long ago, and my son afore he. My clever muejaza," she says fondly, though her eyes are still sorrowful. "I am alone, though perhaps not as alone as I had thought, if a child such as thee can find me here."
"Can you walk through dreams then, like me?" Callum asks.
"All Startouch can," Altumanina says, frowning slightly,"Though most only walk with family, or those dear to their own hearts. To walk amidst the dreams of strangers is...unusual. Though thou art unusual in thy birth to begin with."
Her gaze is not as heavy as before when she studies him, eyes softer now.
"Pray thee, come and sit awhile with me," she says, gesturing to where two pillows lay beneath the tree that stands in the corner of the room.
"What other spells dost thou know?" Altumanina asks, once they are both settled.
Callum hesitates, unsure but slowly lists out the spells of the Stars that he has learned under his father's careful tutelage.
It's not an overly long list, but Altumanina nods, a satisfied light in her eyes once he's done.
"A good beginning," she says, "Thou art young still, with much to learn."
"I know," Callum says.
Altumanina smiles, "At least thou admit that thou art lacking in knowledge. My child devoured knowledge as a starving elf wouldst food. Finding him a teacher was a difficult task."
There is a definite softness to her face now, as she speaks of her son, though it is overlaid with a sorrow that still lingers about her eyes.
"I see such potential about thee as well," Altumanina says, "Always striving to learn something new."
Callum smiles back at her.
"Temper thy hunger with patience," Altumanina counsels, "reach not beyond thy limits."
Callum winces, "I've done that before."
"And thou didst learn from it, didst thou not?"
"I did," Callum says.
"Then thou wilt not make the same mistake again," Altumanina says, folding her hands before her.
Callum nods.
"I trust that thy mentor hath told thee of the Sources, and how they act as balances to one another?"
"We've discussed some of it," Callum says slowly, thinking.
"How much?"
"Why do you want to know?" Callum asks.
"You art a child of my people. To lack a proper education in our culture and magic is an affront to all who hath come afore thee. I would help thee to learn, if thy mentor hath not aided thee fully in this matter."
Callum frowns, but says nothing. Aaravos has discussed the Sources with him before, though exactly how they balance one another is not something they had specifically focused on, being more intent on learning the Arcanum of each Source first.
"The Sources, gifted to us by the gods," Altumanina says, once it's become clear that Callum isn't volunteering any more information, "art as a wheel, bound together. Each Source opposes another and strengthens their neighbors."
She brings her hands up, forming a wheel of starlight between her palms. Within each spoke, the symbols of the Sources appear, shimmering faintly.
"The Stars oppose the Sun, the Moon opposes the Ocean, the Sky the Earth and thus the reverse is also true. Our Archmages, though they hath often conflicts between them, stand as our guardians. The greatest of our guardians, is the Paragon, the Archmage who might wield all Sources as their birthright."
"Could you learn to wield another Source if you weren't a Paragon?" Callum asks, curious.
Altumanina considers this for a moment, then shakes her head. "No such thing hath ever occurred in all our history. Paragons art rare indeed, only one appearing for each Age the world hath passed through. And our last Paragon is lost to us, stolen by the Dark magic."
There is a hard, bitter edge to her voice, and the wheel of starlight abruptly cracks in half, shuddering into gray sparkles before vanishing.
"It corrupts all it touches," she says softly, coldly. "And it did the same to the Lost Paragon. Dark magic is a blight that shalt consume the world if it is not stopped."
Callum shudders, remembering how it felt to reach out and touch that dark magic, even if only for a few moments.
Altumanina looks at him, and Callum can see the concern there.
"Thou tremble at but a memory," she says, reaching out but not touching him. "Though even that leaves a scar upon one's mind."
"Dark magic is...terrible," Callum says, "And I've seen what it can do."
"Then thou understand the danger that our world yet faces."
"Do you know how to stop it?" Callum asks.
The silence that follows his question is heavy, hanging in the air, a leaden weight.
"No," Altumanina says at last.
There is a rush of images that fill Callum's mind – a tower, dark and grim, the acrid scent of iron choking him, a mountaintop amidst a storm, lighting flashing through the clouds, thunder rumbling through his veins, a pale hand upraised holding a silver staff, the bloodstained edge glowing with power, and he can hear a voice, shouting words, indistinct and Dark.
He blinks, shivering.
"Thou Saw something," Altumanina says quietly. She's touching his arm now, her hand cool against his wrist.
"A tower and a mountain, there was dark magic," Callum says.
"Thy Sight is strong," Altumanina murmurs, "trust it. When the path afore thee is clouded, call upon that Sight to guide thee towards the truth."
"You don't want to know more about what I saw?" Callum asks.
Altumanina shakes her head. "T'would be rude to ask outright. What thou hast seen, hath disturbed thee. To relieve it wouldst harm thee, though thou think it not."
"Like a battle-memory," Callum says.
"Very much so," Altumanina agrees, "many a soldier may suffer such after a battle."
"My aunt says that grounding helps wake her from her battle-memories," Callum says.
"A warrior?" Altumanina asks. "Does she watch over you now?"
"Yes," Callum says, because it is still true. Even when they were at the lodge, Aunt Amaya had only ever been looking out for them.
"Good," Altumanina says, "Thou art not alone, little Sihr. Take strength from that."
The landscape around them seems to shimmer.
"Thou art waking," Altumanina observes. "Mayhaps thou might find thy way here again. Pray thee, knock next time."
"Um, I will," Callum says, before he is staring up at the ceiling of the cave.
It's about noon, the bright light glaring off the remaining pools of water around their campsite. Next to him, Rayla is snoring quietly, and Zym yawns widely as he opens his eyes, squinting at Callum.
The Dragon Prince chirps a greeting, or at least Callum thinks it's a greeting.
"Morning, Zym," Callum says, stretching.
Zym chirps again, rolling over on his back and wriggling happily.
Callum snorts, reaching for his sketchbook and pencil to draw the silly dragon.
He is pretty cute, after all, and Ez would want to see some of the drawings, he's sure.
Callum pauses, midway through drawing the curving line of Zym's tail. He hopes Ez is doing okay, that his advisors are helping him in what ways they can.
Zym wiggles, flopping over on his belly, purring contentedly.
Callum finishes sketching, wondering what Ez would think of the changes that Callum has undergone. His eyes are not something he wants to hide all the time, not when they look so much like his father's, a very present reminder of his heritage.
Callum doesn't want to hide it, any of it. The magic, his blood, his lineage. It's important to him.
He sets the sketchbook aside, picking up the Key from where he'd stashed in the night before, turning it in his hands.
The Sources art as a wheel, Lady Altumanina had said, bound together.
He wonders who exactly Altumanina is, just how many Startouch he might meet simply by wandering in his dreams.
Callum studies the Key, running his fingers over the symbols carved into the sides, remembering the wheel of symbols that Altumanina had spun into being.
All held together...could he hold six spells of differing Sources at once?
The Key had responded when he'd held it near three different beings of magic. Zym's Sky, Rayla's Moon, and Callum's own Stars. Well, Callum amends, the spell he'd cast from the Stars.
Now though, the Key is glowing without any magic from him, the side bearing the symbol of the Stars shining with a soft white light.
Zym makes a quiet chirrup, wandering over to Callum.
The side of the Key with the Sky lights up, a pale blue-white, as Zym nudges his hands, crooning quietly, then the Moon begins to glow when Callum angles the Key slightly towards Rayla.
Callum hardly dares to breathe, and slowly casts a spell, one of the sun. A tiny ball of light pops into existence beside him and the Sun lights up, golden and warm beneath his hands. Only the Earth and Ocean remain unlit.
Callum murmurs another spell, one of grounding, of the Earth, and the symbol shimmers bright green.
Only Ocean now.
Callum considers the arcanum of the Ocean for but a moment and still barely breathing, mutters the words he needs.
Ocean's symbol glows a rich lapis lazuli blue.
All sides of the Key glow with their corresponding colors, a shimmering haze rippling off the cube, the dull thud of a gong ringing out.
"Callum, what're you doing?" Rayla hisses, bolting upright from where she'd been sleeping moments before.
"Uh-testing a theory?" Callum offers.
The glow brightens and brightens, until Callum has to look away, fearing to go blind.
Wind lashes out, a whirlwind springing up as Callum holds onto the Key for dear life; Rayla's swearing and Zym's startled bark half-drowned out in the sound of the shrieking gale that explodes out of their camp before vanishing.
And in the distance, in the sudden deathly quiet, Callum can hear the sound of approaching wings.
A/N: Hi all! Not dead, just hunkered down in quarantine.
Real talk though: My depression just about ate me alive these past months. I was having breakdowns just about every day, and generally hating life.
I'm doing much better than I was, which is why there is progress on the story. That being said, don't expect regular updates here. Still on hiatus for the most part, and asking when the next chapter is going to be up is not helpful to either my muses or me.
Thank you all for reading and leaving reviews; they brighten my day. I do like hearing that you're enjoying where the story is going and I hope you stick around to see where it eventually goes.