Hey everyone! Hope you've had a good week so far. This is our first chapter of Calvin since I started writing again, so hope this is a good chance for you to catch up on his story and remember everything he did in the previous two!
Thank you so much to bugging killer and Gyltig for the review (Gyltig I've just dropped reviews on your story!), it does seem like my readers and reviewers dwindle with each chapter. Reviews do a world of good in helping me find the energy to keep going, so if you can spare a few minutes to leave a review, please do! You have no idea how much it means to me right now.
This chapter is written from Calvin's perspective.
Chapter 36: Clarity
Calvin opened his eyes and let the darkness wash over him.
Another day of being engulfed in shadows. Great.
Ever since Gregor's punch had sent him spiralling into a sunless abyss, Calvin had been encased in a prism without light, and a prison of his own thoughts and regrets. He could escape it easily - he just needed to rip the blindfold off his face, and he'd be free to escape back into a world he had run away from just two years earlier.
But now even he knew - he couldn't face any rats or bats without losing complete control of his senses. His will was toothless against the impervious roots of the Murk's toxins, which were embedded deep in his mind and whose effects streamed through his entire body. Calvin's blood was literally infected by fear.
Calvin groaned as he sat up, feeling like every bone in his body had turned to lead. He felt like years had passed since he first sought out a confrontation with Snake - he barely recognised himself, or all the memories he had. His thoughts felt like they belonged to a different person as they combed through the deep recesses of his ravaged brain, lost in a foreign land devoid of love and hope. The sad thing was that Calvin didn't even know if this change had happened when he was lying helpless in Snake's prison, or whether the rot had started way before that. Every waking moment he spent in silence was spent cobbling together an imaginary funeral for everyone he'd lost - Vikus, Fabius, Erik, Mr Carter, his dad. It was painful to admit, but Calvin knew loss better at 18 than most people did at 80. And he didn't know how to fill the hole in his heart, except to throw himself into more and more situations which incurred even more loss.
How could he carry on with his life knowing that so many people were dead because of him? Nothing he did would ever give them life again, nor absolve the burnt stains of guilt etched across his heart. He might as well be dead.
Against the onrushing torrent of hateful thoughts, he paused.
Was he better off dead?
The thought crossed his mind on a daily basis, but he never stopped to really probe it. He considered it a part of his usual barrage of self-loathing, another chance to put a metaphorical bullet in the back of his head to kill any notions of heroism or justice. A good chance to kill off hope, since he had none left in the Underland. Just as he had felt its resurrection through Fabius, the flame of hope lit by Fabius had been snuffed out by Snake. And then to cap it all off, he couldn't even talk to his friends because Snake had taken that away from him - he didn't know exactly where he went every time he broke out into a panic attack, but it was as if he was trapped in a white room with rays brighter than the sun piercing his soul, waiting to get out to take his body back. No wonder his body felt foreign to him. Snake had reduced him to a vessel of his fears and pain.
He was trapped in a dilemma - either he chose to live a life in darkness, or a life in blinding light.
If he had any tears left to cry, he'd have given them up for Hecate, Ripred, Lapblood, and all his other friends he couldn't see. But eyes devoid of hope and sight didn't have the heart to produce tears.
What he'd give just to go for a walk with Gregor, or kneel before Luxa to beg for forgiveness, or clasp Hecate's hand and tell her how much he missed her.
A voice broke through the swamp of self-loathing he was submerged in, gripping him and pulling him back into reality.
"Calvin."
It was a familiar voice, but one he hadn't heard in what felt like millennia.
"Hero?" he croaked, his voice dry from disuse.
"It is me," she replied, and he heard her settle down on a chair next to his bed.
Calvin didn't know how to feel about talking to her again - he hadn't spoken to her since their little argument while the cockroaches, spiders, and moles had laid siege to Regalia. He hadn't said goodbye to her when he thought he was leaving the Underland forever, and even though it was the least of his worries, it had made him feel guilty every time he thought about it. They had shared so much suffering and joy together - she had saved his life when it really mattered on that quest - and he had ignored her almost the whole time he was back in the Underland. But people came into life, made a difference, then disappeared… that was just the pattern of life for Calvin. So in spite of all the feelings he had held for her, and how they just… clicked, Calvin had come to believe his romance with her was just a product of its time - it had once mattered a lot to him, but it no longer meant anything because it had run its course.
Until now, of course.
"Hey," he croaked out weakly again, feeling a little exposed given that she could see him but he couldn't see her.
An awkward silence ensued.
Hero finally broke the ungainly quiet of the room. "I was told you were here. I thought it appropriate to visit you and to make certain you were faring well."
Calvin chuckled bitterly. "Well, fat chance of that."
Realising this wasn't helping the conversation, he quickly cleared his throat and said, "How've you been?"
"Well," she said hesitantly, "I have been well enough."
It suddenly dawned on Calvin that Hero had definitely not been alright. "I heard about your dad," he said softly. "I know how much it hurts. And I know nothing I say will help because it won't bring him back… But I just want you to know I'm so sorry."
He was met with a wall of silence. He wasn't sure what else he expected - he knew better than most people how difficult it was to respond to someone saying they were "sorry" for a loss. People tried to be nice, but they didn't really understand even if they meant well. Or at least, most people didn't. "Sorry" was just a placeholder, a commitment to maintaining a bridge between themselves and the mourner. But nobody who'd lost anyone could ever say that hearing "sorry" made them feel better.
Just before he was about to say more, she spoke up.
"Thank you, Calvin. I miss him every day."
Calvin thought about his dad and felt a pang in his chest. It had been ten years since his dad passed away, and nothing in the world had truly made it ok. Everything had been a distraction until he was able to fall into a bed of nightmares and haunted memories, where he fought an entirely different enemy.
"How are your brothers? You have a sister too, right?" he asked.
"Yes, my sister Stellovet," she replied. "She and my brothers grieve in their own ways. I have not the heart to speak to them about our father's passing. Howard tries, of course, but there is only so much he can do or say. Kent... Kent… "
Calvin heard her voice crack and knew she was holding back tears. But he had no idea what to say - nothing anybody had said to him after his dad died had made him feel any better about it.
"Hey," he said. "It's ok… it's ok…"
"Yes," she said, sniffling slightly. "All will be well soon enough."
Another uncomfortable silence settled like dense vines across the room, coiling itself around both Calvin and Hero. Again, Calvin found it in himself to hack through the undergrowth. "Hey," he said, pausing to choose his words carefully. "I'm sorry we never really talked after I came back… besides that little argument we had."
It was Hero's turn to laugh, but it was far softer and less bitter than his earlier chuckle. "I bear you no ill will, Calvin," she replied. "I am sure you had your… reasons."
"Yeah, I guess I did," he said awkwardly. "I just, I don't know… so much happens down here, and it's really hard to stay too attached to people."
He heard Hero sigh - at first he thought she was sighing in disappointment, but he soon realised she was sighing in agreement. "It is true, I suppose," she said tentatively, and Calvin heard her picking at her nails. "I have said far too many farewells, and it seems each one hurts more than the last. I have now lived almost two decades and have said goodbye to more family and friends than years I have lived. I sometimes pray I stop feeling anything, so these deaths pass over like waves in a storm."
"Yeah," Calvin said, nodding slowly. "Every death hurts like a bitch, so why can't we just get used to it?"
"Perhaps we are not supposed to," Hero replied sadly. "I suppose some people are not meant to tide through the storm easily."
She paused and inhaled sharply. "I do also suppose this is why I have come to visit you. It is a gift to be able to greet an old friend in times like these."
"Friend," Calvin murmured with a crude snort. He quickly composed himself. "I mean, we were more than that to each other once."
Calvin could almost hear Hero smiling. "Indeed," she said, laughing lightly. "We were perhaps more than friends until someone disappeared and never spoke to me again."
Calvin was glad he didn't turn as aggressively red as the Underlanders did. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly my best move. Sorry for ghosting you."
"Ghosting?"
"I don't know," Calvin shook his head at letting Overlander lexicon slip back into his speech. "Like, not talking to you and moving on?"
"Ah - I will admit it did upset me for a while, but I accepted that this is how relationships and lives transpire in this place. We learn to move quickly from situation to situation, because life is unpredictable. You did tell me we were not suited for a relationship."
"I guess I did," Calvin recalled. "Speaking of situation to situation, did you end up marrying Harold?"
No sooner had the words left Calvin's lips than the temperature of the room dropped again. "Harold," Hero almost whispered his name. "As you know, I ended my engagement to him. It did not feel right. He did not take it well."
Hero took another deep breath, and even though Calvin hadn't liked Harold from the few times he had spoken to him, a sinking feeling grew in his stomach.
"He was enlisted to fight against the schemers in the Battle of Regalia," she said softly. "Before the battle, he came to speak to me. He told me he loved me, but he also knew that I did not love him back in the same manner. He apologised for behaving poorly after the engagement ended, and asked for my forgiveness. I did not know how to respond to him, so I dismissed him curtly. It was the last time I spoke to him. We never found his body."
Harold was Calvin's age. That he had died so young with so many regrets and little left to remember him by… it hit Calvin like a sledgehammer. Calvin had been a soldier for Regalia - he'd seen the cost of war and lost many friends. But for someone that young to die with his whole life ahead of him… that loss was so unspeakably horrific and tragic that Calvin needed time in silence to digest the news.
"Don't get too close to people," he said bleakly, feeling resigned to his fate of either dying early or having his heart broken every single day. He thought back to the imaginary funerals he'd designed for all the people he'd lost - he supposed he'd have to add himself to the list too. Hope had slowly ebbed away with the loss of so many good and innocent people - might as well give it the quick coupe de grace instead of letting it live out its limited days as a frail corpse. Calvin knew the day was coming soon when he'd be enveloped in the darkness of an eternal sleep, free from all the responsibilities and demands of honour and war.
As if on cue, Hero's words struck him like cold water, rousing him from the tempting allure of perpetual oblivion. "I do not believe that," she said firmly. "And there was once a time when you did not, either. Everyone you and I have lost has made a choice to be in our lives - it is not for us to deny them that choice. It is the cost of love, but it is always worth paying. To deny them that choice is to deny not just the love we have for ourselves, but the love we have for them."
Hero's searing soliloquy cut through the shadows of self-pity and self-loathing that had wreathed themselves around Calvin for months. The scars of months of self-flagellation remained, but this time Calvin held back from attacking himself. He thought back to the trainings with Mr Carter, being pushed to the limit but always being helped back onto his feet by his mentor. He remembered Vikus softly telling him how much there was to hope for, with that perennial twinkle in his eye. The memory of Fabius helping him to realise that Snake had never been his dad, and the man who had sacrificed so much for Calvin had always been his true father, was already one of Calvin's most precious memories.
He thought back to the dream of his dad with him on the beach, facing the rising tide of darkness that devoured the brightest of stars and silenced the most musical of waves. And standing before its onslaught bravely, as the sands of time were slowly swept away by the wind. Love was the eternal foundation of strength. And against the thundering shadows in the distance, Calvin could still see light. The light of hope still shone fervently in the dark corners of the world.
None of these lives would have made the difference they had if Calvin had decided to push them away and reject their love.
"What if I can't help but hurt them?" he asked sadly.
Hero's voice rang out once again with peals of defiance. "We cannot know any future for certain, but we can try not to repeat the mistakes we made. Only then can we say that the pain caused by our mistakes was not in vain."
With a deep breath, she continued. "There is no 'good' human, gnawer, or spinner in our world. There are only those who give up on doing good, and those who never stop trying. It is the trying that makes you a good person, Calvin."
Hero's words were heavy with pain and sorrow, but also carried a powerful truth with them. A truth that Calvin didn't realise he needed to hear until now.
"I'm sorry to hear about Harold," he said sombrely.
Hero did not reply for a few seconds. "I visit his parents when I am afforded the time to," she said simply. "I am fortunate to have grieved for him in the manner I needed to. I have let go of that past and have tread fresh ground."
"Tread fresh ground?" Calvin wondered aloud, confused by the phrase. "What, like, you've moved on to greener pastures?"
Hero cleared her throat. "That is correct, Calvin. It is my way of saying I am wed to someone, and have, in your words, 'moved on'."
Calvin's words got stuck in his throat. Not that he was still in love with Hero, but it was so surreal for someone his age to be married, especially someone he once had feelings for. Once the initial shock of the news had passed through him, he choked out a feeble "Congratulations!"
He could hear Hero stifling a laugh. "Thank you, Calvin," she replied gracefully.
"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "Just… that kinda came out of left field."
"I know," she responded smoothly. "I could see it all over your face."
Now he was sure Hero could see him turning red. He quickly tried to distract her from that. "Who is your husband?"
"He sits on the Fount's council. He manages the Fount's finances right now, but he hopes to run our diplomatic relations, as grandsire Vikus once did for Regalia," she said proudly. "His name is Reynald."
"Wow," Calvin breathed, genuinely impressed. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but the both of you are lucky to have each other."
"Thank you," she replied softly. Another pregnant silence followed, but it was Hero who broke it this time.
"Why leave yourself blind? Let your eyes see again, Calvin."
Calvin froze up. "I can't," he said, unable to prevent his lower lip from trembling. "Is Hecate there?"
"No one is here," Hero replied firmly. "You can take your blindfold off."
Calvin hesitated. A flood of scorched memories washed over him, threatening to drag him into a whirlpool of faded snapshots which gained clarity by the second. He gasped, feeling the air rush out of his lungs as a paw slowly reached out from the blurry images, its claws aimed right at his heart…
… until Hero's voice burst through the water like a hand of Poseidon and batted the paw aside, wrenching him out of the sea of despair through sheer force.
"Calvin."
Calvin's world rocked violently, and suddenly he was at the beach with his dad again. The night was finally upon them, the last of the stars had surrendered their breath to the shadowy flames. He reached out and gripped his dad's hand as the wind rushed past his face, carrying his doom closer and closer…
But a voice ripped through the fabric of the night, and a ray of light struck Calvin with blinding speed, locking him in place as the shadows evaporated into the white walls of a hospital room…
… And Calvin found himself staring deep into Hero's purple irises. Her cheekbones were prominent, and her luscious silver hair had traded its elegant length for a youthful crop… but this was the Hero he remembered. He remembered her eyes, brimming with hope and sorrow, excitement and fear, strength and pain. Tears welled up in his eyes as pictures of their friendship fell like rain into his pond of memories, each drop leaving a gentle ripple spreading across the water's surface of brittle emotion.
Talking to Hero about her family… telling her not to give up when Temp had sacrificed his life for hers… their kiss on the flight back to Regalia… Telling her that they couldn't be together.
"It doesn't mean I'll ever stop loving you."
When he said those words to her, he had meant it. And he still did - even if he wasn't in love with Hero, he would always love and care for her.
Now the tears started to slide down his face freely, unrestrained from the siege of darkness which had bound them to his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Hero," he whispered.
Hero's smile was a radiant burst of sunshine which fittingly accompanied the return of light to Calvin's eyes.
"I know," she replied softly, and she reached out to gently caress Calvin's face. She tenderly wiped the tears from his cheeks, and then retracted her hand slightly. She opened up the palm of her hand, inviting Calvin's hand to clasp hers.
Calvin gripped her hand, his cold hands feeling the warmth of life coursing back into his veins through Hero's. She took a deep breath and carefully pulled him up from his reclined position. He sat up and stiffened slightly from the dull ache of his injuries. His jaw still felt sore, and he could not ignore the throbbing emanating from his forehead, the unfortunate site of Gregor's brutal punch. But at least he could feel physical pain again, instead of letting despair numb his physical afflictions.
He groaned slightly as his bones creaked and muscles whined from being employed again. He looked up again at Hero, who returned his upward glance with a proud, tear-brimmed gaze. "Do you think you and I would ever have worked out?" he asked abruptly.
She sat back down on her chair and released a pent-up sigh. "I do not know, Calvin," she replied. "But I do know there is little we gain out of guessing. I have come to respect the past while letting it go. It will do you a world of good to do the same."
Calvin leaned back slightly. "I guess you're right… I don't know how you do that, though."
"Do what?"
"Respect the past while letting it go," he said. "It's just… I can't stop thinking about all the mistakes I've made. And I keep thinking about all the people I can't talk to anymore, and I don't know how to deal with that. I have so much love and anger and hate, and I don't know where to put any of it."
Hero leaned back too, and her gaze flitted downwards as she pondered her response. When she finally spoke, her words felt like they had been stewing in her heart for aeons, waiting to be uttered in a precious moment of need.
"Some people come into our lives exactly when we need them and they need us… and even if the relationship may not continue beyond that phase, it is not any less beautiful or powerful."
Calvin took a second to allow those words to hit him, sending his emotions reeling. "Thank you for that," he said quietly.
He allowed her words to breathe in the silence a little longer, before quipping, "Seems like you've done a lot of thinking about our relationship."
Hero rolled her eyes. "I was not referring to us when I said that, Calvin."
"Kinda sounds like you were," he fired back playfully. "Geez, look at the two of us. How are we still teenagers?"
They both laughed softly.
But Calvin's time in the sun was drawing to a close, and his mind soon turned to darker thoughts. "What about me and Hecate?" he asked Hero. "What about me and Ripred? I swear I get a seizure every time I see them. The worst part is I don't remember anything, so I have no idea how to stop it"
"I am afraid I do not have the answer to that," she replied sadly. "But I do believe you can overcome this, Calvin. Do you not remember how you reacted to the Murk during our quest? No one has ever fended off its effects on their first attempt!"
"Was that really a thing?"
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "All of us could not believe what we were seeing - the Murk is akin to an infection, it seeps into your blood and possesses you with its evil. To fight that off as an Overlander, and without any prior exposure to it… that takes an individual with an iron will."
Calvin remembered his resolve when he lay prone on the jungle floor, the Murk trying to ensnare him in its toxic grasp forever. The apparition of Mr Carter stood in front of him, arms extended, offering to pull him up. But Calvin was made of a different mettle. And he pushed himself to get up on his own, because no one else owed him anything. He had to be strong for his dad, and for himself.
He was going to have to be strong once again.
"We don't have much time," he said, leaning forward. "That means normal therapy's not really an option."
"Therapy?" Hero questioned.
Calvin had to stop his eyes from hitting the back of his head. "No wonder you guys have so many issues."
He shook his head and got straight back on topic. "So there's only one way I can do this, and that's by fear exposure." His heart did a quick somersault. The thought almost made him puke, but there was no way out of it. There was no time to sail around the storm, so he would have to go through it.
"Fear exposure?" Hero asked, completely out of her depth.
Calvin wrapped the blindfold around his eyes and tied the tightest knot he could, enveloping himself in shadow again. He was back on the beach with his dad, staring down the wall of darkness that loomed in the distance.
"Call Hecate," he said, each breath growing ragged and heavier with every passing second. "I need you to get me out of here without Howard noticing. Hecate and I will head straight for the fliers' colony."
"Are you sure?"
Calvin stared ahead as the wall of darkness opened its mouth, ready to engulf him as he yanked his feet out of the sand and trudged forward, leaving his dad behind. Its eyeless glare pierced his soul with merciless malice but Calvin didn't flinch. His day of reckoning was upon him, and he would not cow before fear or darkness. He would sail into the eye of the storm to meet his fate because that's what his life had led up to.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Definitely not action-packed but important in establishing the emotional beat and messages of this story. If you have any questions about Calvin or you need a refresher on which chapters to refer to (I make some references to my previous story in this chapter), I'm happy to mention it in the next chapter update or to PM you directly.
Again, would appreciate reviews!
Question: This one's a bit more personal - when did you fall in love with TUC, and how long have you been a part of the TUC community!
