Callum felt certain he was doing the right thing… but in the sobering light of day, as he listened to his companions wake up, it sank in that he couldn't go back on what he'd done. He didn't even want to.

Even if Aaravos wasn't trustworthy to the rest of them, it wasn't like Callum was learning dark magic, right?

Despite his certainty, he still had to convince himself the way he feared he'd have to convince the others someday.

Rayla was often the earliest riser. Callum shouldn't have been surprised when she tapped on the outside of his tent. "Knock-knock?" she asked in a singsong tone.

"You may enter," responded Callum in his best impression of King Harrow, when he'd overheard his father being formal with others. It wasn't a very good impression, but she got the gist, crouching down and coming inside, armed with a small gift.

"Listen, I noticed you haven't been feeling that well lately. I wanted to make you something to cheer you up." She held out a small pastry with a cluster of cooked berries in the middle. "Moonberry tart, made with a little moon magic. It's round because, you know. The moon." Even though she seemed casual about it, Callum could tell she was nervous.

"Thank you so much." He took it in his hands, smiling at her, and then glancing back to the pastry. "Those berries are really filling."

"Yes. Yes and they're the filling."

Evidence of Soren's impact on their lives.

"Well what I mean," he said awkwardly. "Is that it's enough to share. If you want."

"Oh." She seemed startled, but then rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah. Yes, I knew that. I'd like that."

Callum carefully broke it in half, trying to not waste so much as a crumb, and offered her a piece. He took a nibble of his own and his face lit up with appreciation. It wasn't quite like Barius's pastries, no thrilling aftertaste of theft that those usually had from when he and Ezran were younger, but it was just as good, something new and rich and unique. He hummed locking eyes with her, wondering how to say how he felt.

God, I love you.

Not that.

"It's wonderful." Callum finished his bite. " You're wonderful."

Rayla's blush was on track to start competing with the hue of the berries. "Thanks."

He should tell her.

Tell her what? I love you. I'm learning magic from Aaravos. I love you. Please don't get mad but our worst enemy is visiting me in my dreams and I can't stop it and I don't even want to anymore. As much as he told himself that he wasn't betraying anyone, it still felt like a betrayal of trust. He knew that burn too well to think it was easily forgiven.

"Do you trust me?"

Rayla sighed. She turned her eyes to Callum, seemingly both fond and exasperated. "You? Yes. Some of your choices? No."

"I take back asking you to maybe kill me."

That was an awkward phrase to say, but it got to the point.

Rayla stared. She suddenly reached up to Callum's face and put her hand on his nose, making an odd twisting motion as he yelped. "Well GOOD! Cause I wasn't going to do it. You earned your nose back."

He hoped they never lost this closeness again.

-BREAK-

There was a desk and chair set up in Callum's mind. He stared at it, scratching his head. He supposed he imagined learning from Aaravos to not feel like an actual class. It was just a class of one, to make it more awkward. In retrospect, he didn't know what he was expecting. Magic duels? Meditating until he was enlightened about another arcanum?

"Too formal?" Aaravos stood before him, holding a quill. In a blink, the desk and chair were replaced with a large, soft, round object on the floor that looked delightful to sink into, complete with an array of pillows around it for optimal coziness. "Better?"

"Oh, uh. It's nice" Callum glanced around. The stillness and bleakness of the black space was fine for focusing in, but it was dreary. "Where would you normally teach?"

Aaravos thought for a moment. "Let me show you."

It must've been strong illusion magic, but Callum was awestruck by it anyway. The room he stood in could have been another home to him. In another life, he could've spent day after day looking forward to being there.

It was undoubtedly a classroom, but it was the best classroom Callum had ever seen. Rows of desks were set up in a circular room with a high ceiling and arched windows. A fire crackled in a nearby fireplace and the combination of it and hazy afternoon sunshine through the windows almost made Callum want to nap within his own dream. The walls were lined with bookshelves and extra worktables, some bearing foreign plants and other curiosities, some displaying primal gems and staves- even a few primal stones if Callum wasn't mistaken. The walls were covered with diagrams of runes, spells in use, and maps. The most notable map was of Xadia, undivided, proudly hung over the fireplace mantle. A telescope set up near the front of the room pointed out a window towards the sky, up at the moon, and Callum could imagine waiting until nightfall to excitedly get to use it.

What really got him, though, was the ceiling. A chandelier took his attention front and center, but the real show was behind it. Beautiful, deep blues and purples blended like nebulas covered every inch of the domed ceiling, with intricate golden stars and constellations painted against the already gorgeous background. Still gawking, he wandered to a window, looking outside at a foreign city he'd never seen before, marveling at the view from what he realized was a tower. The sprawl of buildings seemed endless, and even just in Aaravos's memory it rivaled all he'd ever seen of Katolis for impressiveness. "Woah."

"Yes, it was lovely."

Was.

Callum turned, finally noticing Aaravos at the front of the room, standing by a chalkboard. His face was both adoring and pained. "I'm afraid I snuck in another history lesson." He bowed. "Welcome to Elarion, your ancestral home."

Grief for an experience he was simultaneously having yet could never have hit Callum hard in the chest. "I see."

This was Xadia, back when humans were allowed to live there.

Aaravos still remembered it all.

Callum wondered how many other beautiful, crushing burdens he carried.

Aaravos walked up to a chalkboard and took a piece of chalk, seeming to prefer gazing upon it to the splendor around them for the moment. "Well? I expect you'll sit in the front row and pay attention."

He obeyed, mind both whirling with wonder and heavy with grief that was setting into his bones. He'd never see this place for himself. Elarion was so far gone that no one really knew what it had been like, aside from old tales and rumors. Seeing it made the ancient history actually sting as he took the front and center seat, waiting for Aaravos to teach.

Aaravos paused. "I promised I'd never take control of you again, but what if you controlled you?"

"Uh." Was this a thing with mages? Was Callum going to hit an age where everything he said was weird and cryptic? He waved his arms. "I already do?"

"Let me explain. You could control your waking body while you dream. Is your spell book nearby? If you could reach it easily, then you could write it in as I teach. Much more efficient than hoping you remember everything in the morning. Oh- and don't worry about talking. You won't talk in the waking world."

That sounded like it would be really weird to witness, but Callum didn't share a tent with anyone. It should be alright. "Okay."

Callum's hands glowed with lavender light that spread up his arms and to his torso. As it moved he could feel things that simply weren't there, as well as telltale movement of his body in the waking world adjusting to match how he was posed now, sitting up. He grit his teeth, focusing as he blindly felt around for his book, only able to see the illusion of the ancient classroom around him as he fumbled for his spellbook. "Ah- I think I have it."

He drew his hands closer to himself, grasping the tome as it appeared in view, also glowing. He scrunched his face up and felt around for a pencil, relieved when he discovered he'd left one simply lying around. He flipped his well loved spellbook open and looked to Aaravos, ready.

"Good." Aaravos turned as he spoke, drawing on the chalkboard and settling into lecture mode. "Given that Viren couldn't decipher the message on the mirror, I assume Ancient Draconic is completely lost to humans, yes? My best guess is that he discovered its gimmick by accident."

"Yeah. I dug around in every tome I got my hands on and couldn't find any of those runes anywhere. Except I did find a Tome of Translation which is super handy! But I don't have like, any idea what the alphabet of runes look like."

Aaravos nodded. "We don't have time for me to teach you Ancient Draconic as a language, but if you can at least get the alphabet recorded and can pronounce things, anyone around with some knowledge of Draconic can assist with translating."

It might've been tedious to most people, but Callum was eager as he took down every letter and pronunciation Aaravos drew, meticulously drawing them with the right stroke order. Aaravos was both a patient and enthusiastic teacher, occasionally pausing to look over Callum's notes and give feedback. They got into a natural flow of talking and writing, working together like they'd known each other for years.

Aaravos was a good teacher.

Callum wished he never had to wake up. He knew he'd have to, but it was so nice, being with a mentor again. Losing Ibis made his heart ache anew again.

"Your handwriting is really fancy," commented Callum. Aaravos's pronunciation guides under each rune were written with old fashioned text, almost like calligraphy.

Aaravos sniffed. "It's proper form."

Callum grinned as he finished his own notes. Sometimes Aaravos reminded him that he was incredibly old. Rather than create distance between them, Callum found it endearing.

He didn't know how long it took, several pages filled with runes and notes. His mind buzzed with the new knowledge, and his hand was cramping from all of the writing, Aaravos gave it one last look. "That looks good. Now, unless you want to collapse, set the book aside, and pretend you're lying down."

Callum did so, feeling what he couldn't see. Once he was settled back in his sleeping bag, the light faded from his body, and his tome disappeared. He sat back up. "So when I wake up, I'll have all those notes."

"Yes."

"Was that dark magic?"

Aaravos folded his hands. "You've used dark magic before. Did it feel like it?"

Callum thought for a moment. "No, but I have no idea what it was."

"It makes sense. Star magic is exceedingly rare. You stand before an endangered species."

Had it not been painfully true, Callum might've laughed. "Star magic," he repeated, looking over his hands.

"Connection. Even the connection from your mind to your body is reminiscent of stars and lines drawn. Fascinating, hm?" Aaravos didn't wait for an answer. He waved his hand and Callum stumbled out of his chair as the classroom furniture was all sent to the edges of the room, leaving the center clear. "Now, in order to fill in gaps of your knowledge of the sky arcanum, I need to see what you know."

Callum nodded. "Alright."

He ran through all of his basic spells. He created winds, lighting and thunder, fog, and other weather elements. He demonstrated battle magic and all Ibis had taught him. He ended with a grand finale, relieved to see that his arms in his sleep still had the runes he'd drawn in real life.

"Manus. Pluma. Volantus."

Feathers sprouted from his arms all the way up to his shoulders, giving Callum the wings he was so proud of. He turned, showing them off. Aaravos nodded, but he didn't seem all that impressed. "Is that the height of what you know?"

"What are you talking about?" Callum flapped his wings indignantly. "Not even many sky elves can even do this." He shot off the ground, flying around the ceiling, doing spirals and other tricks before landing.

"I did not mean to disparage your efforts. That is admirable, but I see that I possibly possess something even lost to the elves. Now, just wings are useful to be sure, but here is a modification."

Aaravos shed his cloak and the sheer fabric he wore off his shoulders. He conjured a paint brush, tip loaded with white ink. He drew a couple of the same runes Callum had on his arms, but then added a new, bigger one over the dimmed star. He held out his arms as Callum had, and then he grinned.

"Corpus. Pluma. Volantus."

The change started with his horns. They melded into a proud, royal purple crest of feathers, and the shift trickled down from there. He grew in size to be about as big as Phoe-Phoe, with feathers that shone like stars wherever the light hit them. Even in daylight, he was like a piece of living night sky, dark and starry hues blending naturally with his brighter, lavender underside and snowy white wingtips. The star marking was still stark against Aaravos's feathers on his chest, but it only added to his beauty.

It was incredible.

Callum remembered how to speak again. "Show-off!"

Aaravos preened, and Callum laughed. Then, the grand bird before him knelt and extended a wing, the body language clear. Get on.

He climbed on, settling between Aaravos's shoulders and holding feathers within reach. It occurred to him that they were in an enclosed room. "Wait—" he yelled as Aaravos sprang up into the air, rushing right for a wall with a powerful snap of his wings.

They phased through the wall with no issue, out to open sky.

Callum was used to flying, but it was never boring.

Elarion was a scenic paradise from the sky, nestled between mountains and the sea. A few prominent structures and towers shaped the skyline. Buildings were primarily white, and Callum got the impression that magic may have been used in its construction. It was elegant, beautiful, and it wasn't like the Moonshadow Elves' art, or like the Sunfire Elves' city— it was unique.

It was human.

Callum summoned his own wings again and leapt off, flying just behind Aaravos's side. They made eye contact and Callum grinned with windswept hair, riding in the current Aaravos's wings generated for a free lift, like they were a flock of two in formation.

He turned his gaze back down to Elarion and the surrounding landscape, still in awe.

Aaravos couldn't speak in his form, but Callum still heard his voice in his mind, along with the breeze in his ears.

At last, this place exists in another's memory. A human's memory.