As glad as Rayla was to know that Callum had exhausted all the other options, it didn't fix the fact that she was laying on the deck of a boat, desperately trying to keep her breakfast down. It was nice that he had tried to keep them off the water, but Rayla had already steeled herself for the possibility. There really wasn’t any way around it.
"Comfortable down there?" Callum teased as he approached, Bait in his arms, and Stella on his shoulder.
With a snort, she replied, "I think you're well aware that the answer is no."
He sat, letting Bait crawl over to her. "Well, do you mind if I join you?"
"Be my guest," she invited, gesturing to the space next to her. "Only if you're prepared to hold my hair back for me when my stomach can’t hold on anymore.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve come to distract you.” Laying down next to her, he met her eye and offered a sparkling grin. “I’m gonna ask you five questions, okay?”
The words dug up a memory deep in the back of her mind—a conversation that her brain hadn’t deemed important enough to keep on hand. They had been so young. They hardly knew each other. Not twenty-four hours beforehand, he had said terrible things about her to try and scare his aunt into leaving them alone. She had been bitter. He poked at a bunch of feelings she didn’t like acknowledging.
Yet somehow, she still smiled.
“Fine,” she said, trying to sound annoyed, though a lilt in her voice made that impossible. “Ask your questions.”
“What was the craziest thing you saw during your two years alone in Xadia?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. Flatly, she replied, “Eyeless viper mating season.”
Callum burst into laughter.
Smile growing, Rayla said, “They’re eyeless, so it takes a while for them to figure out what they’re doing, and which end is which. It’s easy to think, ‘oh, they’re just playing, or trying to communicate,’ but nope. As soon as I realized what was happening, it was too late. I couldn’t unsee it.”
“No, yeah, I can imagine,” he laughed. “Well, I don’t want to imagine, but you’ve given me that mental image, so I guess I just have to live with that existing in my brain now.” He let his chuckles die down before he turned on his side to better face her. The grin on his lips faded into something much less jovial. He paused for a moment before asking, “Was it lonely? Hunting for Claudia by yourself?”
There was nothing angry or accusatory in his tone. His voice was quiet enough for only her to hear—a breath between them on the deck of the ship.
She nodded. “All the time. I made friends with whatever creatures I could, but none of them stuck around for very long until I met Stella. She eased the loneliness by a lot.”
Stella gave a pleased chirp and jumped onto Rayla’s chest to demand scritches. Of course, Rayla complied.
“That must have been really hard,” Callum whispered. When Rayla looked over to him, his eyes had dropped to the floor between them. “I…you can tell me if I’m overstepping, but…why didn’t you come back sooner? Or at least let me know that you were okay?”
A gentle silence passed over them. Rayla urged Stella to move as she turned on her side. They were face to face now. Closer than they had let themselves stay in a long time.
After a breath, Rayla said, “A lot of reasons. I knew Viren and Claudia were out there somewhere, and that the world wouldn’t be safe until they were gone. I also just…didn’t want to come back empty handed. I was afraid of how angry you would be. I didn’t try to send you any letters because I was afraid of putting you in danger. So, you know. A lot of fear.”
He nodded, a slow and pensive motion before he spoke again. “Yeah. Yeah, I can understand that. I’m sorry that I’ve been…the way I’ve been about it.”
She searched his eyes. He was still staring at the floor between them. All of the anger that had been bursting out of him since her return seemed to have simply…run out. There was a sadness there. His own loneliness of the past two years. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if tears were welling in him or not. But he took a long, deep breath, and closed his eyes.
“Ask your next question,” she urged, tapping her hand against the arm that was supporting his head.
“Right,” he sighed. “I think that was question three. So, um.” He opened his eyes and held up his right arm, indicating his wrist. “How are you feeling about this whole situation? Being soulmates?”
At one point, she would have had an answer ready in less than a moment. Even a few days ago, she would have easily said that she was willing to wait however long he needed, and that she would cherish every moment being his soulmate.
Their marks were black now. Whenever she looked at hers, it seemed to swirl, like magic was trying and failing to change it.
Even soulmate magic itself couldn’t deny the connection that she and Callum had.
Feeling her wrist twinge as though the old assassin’s binding was contracting, she replied, “It’s not easy to be soulmates. Even less so when we’re trying to save the world. But there’s one thing I’ve known for well over two years, that hasn’t gone away. It’s changed, but it’s still strong.” She took his hand in hers and said with certainty, “I love you, Callum. I always have. And you don’t need to say it back. It’s okay if you still have uncertain feelings about me—about us. I love you, and I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
His eyes were locked on hers now. Ever so slowly, he pulled his hand from hers, and ghosted it over her cheek in a way that made her close her eyes and shiver. Only when his hand found a resting place cupping her jaw did she look at him once more, her heart beating just a bit faster.
“I think…I think I am ready,” he whispered. “Can I…?”
A different sort of feeling rippled through her stomach. In the back of her mind, Rayla noticed that she wasn’t nauseous anymore, but moths in her stomach were trying to test that.
She couldn’t help but tease, “Is that your last question?”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
“Then yes.”
He stared into her eyes for a few moments more before shifting closer to her. He didn’t close the distance completely—only touched his forehead to hers.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Letting her own hand slip around the back of his neck, she breathed, “That’s a sixth question, dummy. My answer to the fifth was yes. For you, it’s always yes.”
She could feel the grin still on his lips as he pressed a kiss to her mouth.
Steven watched as Connie and Lion leaped through the portal. A twinge of guilt was quickly squashed by feelings of betrayal and hurt as he walked back to the beach house.
How could she not think that this was heroic of him to do? How could she possibly be hurt?
A part of him knew the answer. He just couldn't bring himself to believe that what he did was wrong.
When he got inside, he brushed off the concerned questions of the Gems and Greg about the speed of him coming back. Amethyst and Pearl dropped the subject immediately, but he knew that Garnet could tell that something was wrong.
He struggled with falling asleep that night, expecting to hear the sound of Lion's portal opening in the living room at any moment. Instead, he was greeted with silence.
He sat up in bed to rearrange himself, catching a glance at Connie's picture on his headboard. A pang of grief went through his heart.
He turned the picture around and laid back down, hoping he could will himself to sleep.
~
When Connie arrived at home, she had already soaked a spot in Lion's mane with her tears. She dismounted the giant cat and started towards her door.
A huff caught her attention and she turned around to see Lion staring at her.
"Thanks Lion. I ... I don't have any Lion Lickers, but I can try and get some for you later ..." Connie sniffled, trying to hide her tears before she could head inside.
Lion padded over to her and pressed his head against hers.
"Thanks," she said again. " You should probably head back. Steven's probably wondering where you are ..."
Lion nudged Connie's shoulder.
"It's ... It's ok," she sighed. "I just need to think, I guess. Go on home, Lion. I'll ... see you again sometime ..."
Lion huffed and sat down. Connie turned to her door, feeling Lion's gaze. She took a deep breath and opened her door, hoping she could be quiet enough to avoid any questions from her parents.
She couldn't handle that right now. Not with everything else.
She climbed the stairs and crept into her bedroom. She had spent many a night since Steven left pacing the room, unable to sleep. She had hoped that if she ever saw him again, she would feel better.
Now, she only felt worse.
She laid back on her bed, hoping that she would be able to sleep tonight. She regretted sending Lion away now. Since Steven had gone, Lion would warp to her room to check on her. It had been comforting, having him with her for part of the night. With Steven back, she was alone.
Truly alone.
She couldn't understand how he couldn't see how she felt. She wondered if he even really cared.
"You know he does," she chided herself. "He has to ... He just ..."
She felt a tear threaten to spill out and hastily wiped it away.
She had cried over him enough.
Tap.
Tap.
Connie looked over to see Lion in her window, pawing at the glass with a giant, clawed paw. She smiled weakly and opened the window for the big cat to squeeze through.
"You sure you want to spend the night over here? Doesn't Steven need you?" Connie asked as Lion padded over to the bed.
Lion huffed and jumped onto the bed before flopping onto his stomach. Connie chuckled and climbed onto the bed, snuggling into Lion's soft, pink fur.
~
Steven had watched as Lapis left, leaving Peridot behind to grieve. The guilt gnawed at him even more.
He pulled out his phone to call Connie. He listened as the phone rang once, twice, and then hung up.
He pocketed the phone and walked to the Warp Pad. He needed to get home and check to see if Lion was back. He turned back to look at Peridot who continued to stare at the sky.
"Do you want to come with me?" He asked.
"No ... She'll be back ... She ... she does this sometimes," Peridot sighed.
Steven turned around and prepared to warp home. As he traveled through the warp stream, the guilt began to build up.
He wondered now if he truly had made the right decision.
~
Connie had been vague at breakfast, talking with her parents about Steven's return. She knew that she was bad at hiding the pain she felt, but she had to stay focused. She needed to make some decisions now.
Was this all worth it?
Was she worth it?
Was anything that Steven had once told her true anymore?
The sound of her phone ringing sent her heart racing. The familiar tone they had once danced to - once fused to - rang through the air.
Connie pulled the phone out of her pocket and stared at it.
"It's ok, sweetie. You can talk to him if you want," her mom started.
Connie hung up the phone.
"No ... It's ok. I'm ... I'll talk to him later," she lied.
She poked at her breakfast, feeling her parents eyes on her. She wanted to get out of the house, but she didn't even know where she would go. Lion had left that morning, so there was no way she could take him anywhere.
The Barn and the Temple were out of the question. He could probably be there. She couldn't face him right now. She didn't know what she would even say to him.
She felt guilty, being so upset, but she couldn't help it. He had brushed off her pain. He had done what he had told her not to do.
Did he even trust her?
She heard her parents speaking in hushed tones, but at this point she didn't care.
She stared at her breakfast. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry at all.
~
"I mean ... He's ok now! He's just pink ... and in space!" Steven had explained. "But ... don't worry! Once I find Lion, we'll get him back!"
He felt his heart break as he watched Lar's mother weep into her husband's shoulder. It hit him just then that this was real. This was serious.
This is what the gems and his dad had gone through.
When he saw Sadie later that day as he tried to hang signs for his missing Lion, he felt the guilt intensify as she seemed to walk around the Big Donut on auto-pilot. She barely acknowledged him at first and eventually slumped onto the counter, her eyes red and puffy. He knew she had been crying before he had come in. He knew this was his fault. As he watched Sadie, more of the truth of what he did hit him.
He had put Connie through this. Suddenly, what she had said the night he returned made sense.
He had hurt her.
After trying to comfort Sadie, he left for the Beach House, trying once again to call Connie's phone.
The phone rang once and Steven held his breath, hoping that Connie would answer this time.
"Hello. You have reached the voice mailbox of Connie Maheswaran. Please leave a message after the tone."
Beep.
"Um ... Hi Connie," Steven started. "I ... I wanted to call because ... well ... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't even realize ... I just ... Call me when you get this. Maybe we can meet up and talk?"
He reached the Temple and looked around. No trace of Lion.
"And ... if you see Lion, tell him I'm looking for him ... I ..."
He thought back to what he had said before being taken away. He wondered if she had heard it.
"I'll talk to you later ... I'm sorry," he stammered before hanging up. He stared at the phone, the screen returning to his home screen after a few seconds.
A picture of himself and Connie from happier times.
"I love you ..."
~
He had left many messages on her phone over the past week, none of them being returned.
When her voicemail box was full, he decided to try to send her a text.
I'm sorry.
He pressed send and watched as it stayed in sent status.
He had really done it.
He had pushed away his Jam Bud.
He had hurt Sadie and Lars' parents by not bringing Lars home.
He had hurt his family.
He had hurt everyone by not thinking. By just acting on impulse.
By hating himself.
He curled up on his bed and stared at his phone. The silence in the room weighed on him.
The warp pad activated but Steven didn't look up. He just continued to stare at the phone, hoping that it would ring and Connie would forgive him.
He felt someone sit next to him and then felt a cool hand on his back. He looked up to see Garnet.
"I ... I messed up," Steven whispered. "I messed up big time ..."
Garnet smiled sadly and pulled him into a hug.
"I hurt Sadie and I got Lars killed and I hurt you guys ... and Connie ..." he started. "I just ... I thought I had to pay for what my mom did ... I thought that it would fix everything .. I thought ..."
"I know," Garnet soothed.
"Connie hates me now," he whimpered. "And I don't blame her ... I ... I didn't even listen to her. I didn't let her help ... She ... She rode away on Lion and I don't think I'll ever see her again ..."
Steven wept into Garnet's shoulder as the gem peered into the future.
There was a chance, but it was so small now.
"Have you called her parents?" Garnet started. "Perhaps you can explain to them-?"
"They probably hate me too ..." Steven gulped in between sobs. "I thought I was keeping her safe but instead I hurt her! I never wanted this to happen and now I've lost my best friend!"
Garnet held him close again.
"Have you been able to find Lion?"
"No," Steven asked. "Last I saw, he was with Connie but he never came home. You don't think he hates me too, do you?"
"Of course not," Garnet started. "He will come back. That much is certain."
Steven wiped away his tears.
"And Connie?"
Garnet stayed silent.
Steven swung his legs over the side of the bed and stared at his feet.
"I'm going to call her parents ... maybe they've at least seen Lion ... and maybe they can tell her I'm sorry ..."
~
Connie listened as Doug spoke to someone on their home phone. She knew Steven had to be on the other line, but she couldn't bring herself to talk to him. She had blocked his number, unable to handle the panic that coursed through her whenever he called. She couldn't face him now. The shame was too great.
She had gone from being angry at him to being angry at herself.
She was only human. She couldn't have done anything anyway. No wonder Steven didn't want to fuse with her on the ship. They couldn't have done anything. They would have both been taken.
Steven would never have forgiven himself for being responsible for two humans being hurt.
For two humans being killed.
That's all she was anyway. Just a human. There wasn't anything special about her. She had gone through the training, but that hadn't been enough.
Stevonnie ... It didn't mean the same thing to him that it meant to her.
She had felt like she was actually a part of something, but now, she knew she wasn't.
She couldn't go back. She couldn't continue being a burden when it was so obvious that she didn't really.
When her dad hung up the phone, Connie stood up and walked to him.
"That was Steven. He was wondering if we had seen his Lion," Doug started, pulling Connie in for a hug. "He said he's sorry ... What happened?"
Connie returned the hug, biting back a sob.
She knew what she had to do. She pulled back and looked down at her feet. Her heart ached as she prepared to give everything up.
"Maybe ... you should take his mom's sword back to him ..." Connie began, her voice barely a whisper. "I ... I couldn't help him and I think he knows it."
"Connie ..." Doug started.
"It's in my room. And, hey ... I can go back to taking tennis again. I know you guys enjoyed going to my matches ..." Connie continued, feigning a smile. "You guys didn't really want me fighting monsters anyway ... I can focus on my studies and get into medical school like mom wanted - "
"Connie," Doug started, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We just want you to be happy. What really happened when Steven came back? You know you can tell us anything."
Connie felt the corner of her mouth quiver. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
When she opened her mouth to speak, all that escaped were sobs.
~
Steven's feet were tired, but he knew he had to do this.
The messages he had sent had never been read. The voicemails were never returned.
He needed to go talk to her. He needed her to know that he was truly sorry.
He needed to know if they were still friends.
He found his way onto her street and he felt the ache in his heart once again. He didn't want to believe that this was truly over. That his friendship with her was irreparably damaged.
That the first person he loved like this no longer trusted him.
He found her house and stared up at the darkened windows. He knew which one was hers, having helped sneak her into her house the night that they had raced down the hill as Stevonnie. He stared at the window, wondering if he should just turn back.
~
Connie stared at the sword in the corner of her room. She would try again in the morning, she had decided. They had told her to sleep on it, but she already knew that she couldn't go back. Not if she wasn't really valued.
She supposed she should have listened to Lapis and Peridot when she had helped watch Steven's house when he went to rescue his dad ... Another time that she had not been of any actual value to him.
She wasn't a Crystal Gem.
She had to stop pretending that she was.
She rolled towards the window and stared out. The stars were barely visible through the street lights, but she knew that one of those stars had to be Homeworld.
There was a new emptiness in the pit of her stomach when she saw it now. She would never see the planet that the Gems called their former home.
Perhaps it was for the best.
She closed her eyes, hoping that she would be able to sleep.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Connie opened her eyes, expecting to see Lion outside her window. She had not seen him since the night Steven had returned, but she realized she would have like to say goodbye to him before she officially ended her involvement with all things Gem.
Instead, there was nothing.
She closed her eyes again.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Connie opened her eyes again. This time, she watched as a pebble hit the window.
Tap.
Another .
Tap.
Connie sat up in bed. She felt her heart rate quicken.
Against her better judgement she rose and walked to the window, seeing Steven below as he searched for another pebble.
I know I've been away for a long time. I didn't mean to leave you alone for two years. You have to understand, I was trying to protect you. It was all for you. I had to break your heart to keep you safe.
Rayla crumpled up the parchment, and tossed it away.
Scampering up to sit on the desk, Stella squeaked and bumped her head against Rayla's writing hand.
"No, I have to get it right," she murmured. "He deserves a real apology."
I'm sorry. I know my leaving hurt you. Leaving you behind was the only way I could guarantee your safety. You can hate me if you want. I'd understand. But please give me a chance. I’d give anything for just a chance.
No, he would hate it if she groveled. She tossed that paper away as well.
It's been a while, and I know it’s hurt. But I was doing what I had to do. You can take your time forgiving me. Or don't forgive me. I suppose I can't tell you what to feel or do.
Groaning, she tossed it away.
Stella chittered at her, then tilted her head in a question.
"I have no idea if he'll forgive me," Rayla replied. "He's a forgiving person by nature, but after what I did? I won't be totally surprised if he tells me to leave and never show my face in Katolis again."
With a chirp, she gestured with her paws. While Rayla couldn't speak with animals like Ezran could, she always felt as though she could perfectly understand everything Stella said to her.
"It's been two years. I know that I've told you about how kind he is, but a lot has happened since then. He could be different now. He might reject me, and anything I have to say."
Stella rolled her eyes and chittered under her breath.
"Don't sass me." She gently shoved her away from the paper. "I haven't seen him for longer than you've been alive, don't you pretend that you know how he'll react."
I didn’t want to come back empty handed, especially not after the way I left. That’s why I stayed away for so long. I couldn’t just face you sooner, because I’m a coward, and I’m more afraid of your reaction than I am of isolating myself on a useless mission for two more years, but if I don’t face you at some point, then I’m just going to hate myself more and more for never doing it.
She tore that one in half once, twice, three times. There was no way she was saying something like that to him.
Leaning forward on the desk, Rayla took a long, deep breath. This was the last night before she would arrive at Katolis castle, and she still couldn’t work through what in the world she could say to Callum. There was so much to say, but none of it was right. There were a dozen discarded scripts on the inn floor around her. But some nagging feeling told her that it didn’t matter if she had a script for seeing him again. She was going to mess it up somehow. Just like she had messed up everything else between them.
A tiny paw wiped away a tear that was slowly crawling down Rayla’s cheek, and Stella gave a small, encouraging sound.
Rayla reached over to give her an affectionate scratch behind the ear. With a sniffle, she said, “I know. You’re right. There’s no perfect thing I can say. As long as I’m honest with him, I can’t get it wrong.”
She squeaked affirmingly, and crawled onto Rayla’s shoulder to cuddle into the crook of her neck.
There was no perfect thing to say. But maybe she could at least organize her thoughts and feelings before going to see him.
Taking another breath, she sat back up, dried her silent tears, and began to write once more.
Through her sobs, Rayla could only see the glowing white of Callum's eyes. She clutched his sleeves in her fists, and shook his arms, as though that would rattle Aaravos out of his head.
"Please," she cried, resting her head on his shoulder. "Come back."
"How touching," the deep, sarcastic voice taunted. He used Callum's hands to firmly push her away by the shoulders. "I'll give your mage back to you. If you do something for me."
"Anything!" A large part of her knew as soon as it came out that promising anything was a dangerous game.
The rest of her didn't care.
"I'll do anything, just give him back."
"What a good little assassin you are," he teased. "Simply bring me my Key. I'll give you the boy for now, so long as you follow through. Should you betray me, he will be mine. And you wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, would you?" He removed Callum’s hands from her, rolled up one sleeve, and turned the scarred wrist toward her to expose the blue flowers, scabbed and healing.
Then, all at once, the color on Callum’s soul mark swirled, and became saturated with an inky black.
Rayla cried out in pain, clutching her own wrist. She didn’t have to look at it to know that it was changing to match his.
“I’ll do it!” she choked. “I’ll do it, just let him go!”
Callum's mouth cracked into a crooked, wicked grin, and a moment later, his eyes reverted to their beautiful emerald green. As his body fell limp, Rayla hooked her arms under his, and gently lowered him to the ground, finally noticing the severity with which she was trembling. All she could do was sit with him slumped in her arms as she shook, desperately trying to gain control over her breathing.
A groan slipped out of him, and he stirred, pulling himself to sitting. It seemed to take all of his strength to sit up without toppling over.
His gaze met hers, and she watched as his vision noticeably cleared. He blinked a few times, and began to say, "Rayla—"
Relief flooded through her. He was himself again. He was okay. Nobody was hurt. Her soulmate was in his body again. There was so much alleviation and joy in her own mind and body that she was sure she would burst. It had to come out somehow.
She didn’t think. She couldn’t think. The only thing reverberating through her head was Callum Callum Callum.
Hands cupping his jaw, she pressed her lips firmly to his. Her tears didn’t matter. The horror of Aaravos taking him over again didn’t matter. Two years apart didn’t matter. It was just her, and just him, and just the kiss that she had wanted for so long, and hadn’t let herself have.
He shoved her away.
In a brief moment of panic, she was sure that his eyes would be white once more. She couldn’t be sure if it was better or worse that they were green, and casting her the most scathing glare she had ever seen from him. The look in his eyes felt like it was slashing through her chest and cutting her heart in two.
Oh, no. She had really messed up this time.
“A deal with Aaravos?” Callum accused, stumbling to his feet. “Are you stupid? You promised that if he possessed me again, you would kill me! Instead, you’re going to help him to keep me safe?”
Her tears thick and heavy, she cried, “I can’t lose you again, Callum! You know I can’t kill you—I have to keep you safe! You have to live!”
“You let me live.” His tone was low. Angry. “But you’ll kill us all.”
The sentiment had been repeated so many times. Every time Ezran met a noble for the first time, or was seeing them after several years, it was almost guaranteed that they would comment about how much he resembled his dad.
He supposed he did. He had gotten a lot taller in the past two years. Wore clothing similar to his dad’s—clothing a king was expected to wear in Katolis. Wore a crown.
Of course the crown made him look more like King Harrow, Ezran thought. If nothing else truly made him resemble his father, then the crown of their kingdom certainly did.
If Ezran was perfectly honest—which he usually was, but he couldn’t find it in himself to tell people the truth in this—he hated when people compared him to his dad. It reminded him of the king that Katolis loved, the king that he would never be, the king who made mistakes, who made amends, who made Katolis into the kingdom that Ezran inherited.
It reminded him that he inherited the kingdom far too early. That his dad was gone far too soon.
As of a few months ago, Ezran was only twelve. Plenty of nobles assured him that he looked so much older than twelve, and he was sure that his recent growth spurt had a lot to do with that, but he didn’t let that fool him into thinking himself any older than he was.
He was still a child king, being compared to his father before him.
It wasn't fair.
Everyone was far too eager for Ezran to grow up, to be an adult, to leave his childhood behind.
Hadn't he already left behind enough of it? He was the king of a whole country, he had assisted in returning another prince to his own home to prevent more bloodshed than was already had between their people.
Those weren't normal twelve-year-old activities. He had to take his jelly tart heists and games of hide and seek where he could get them. Because any time he was around adults, they only wanted to see him as his father.
(Even the jelly tart heists had led to some comments about him being so much like his mother. But he supposed that was a legacy he would gladly uphold.)
Ezran wasn't the only one receiving such comments, comparing him to a parent. While his only point of reference was paintings, Ezran had to agree that Callum was the spitting image of their mother. And as High Mage, Callum had two adults he was expected to be just like. Not even Callum was an adult yet. Nearly seventeen was close to being a grown up, but he wasn't one.
Why did people keep forgetting that?
He had Callum's and Aanya's companionship in being so young, but treated like adults, and constantly reminded of their dead parents. It wasn't a pleasant life to live. But he wasn't alone.
Callum was always certain to make sure that Ezran never felt like he was doing anything alone. He and his older brother might have still been children, but he knew that they could rely on each other more than anyone else in the world. Any time someone compared one of them to their mother or father, they could exchange a glance, complain about it later, and assure each other "You are your own person. You write your own destiny."
Love his father as he did, Ezran was glad that he wasn't Harrow. Someday, when he got older, people would begin to see that. They would remember their love of King Harrow, and know King Ezran for who he was.
He had seen so many Moonshadow-made weapons in the past two years. He had seen plenty of Ethari's craftsmanship. But never anything like Rayla's butterfly blades.
This sword belonged to her. She had been here.
But given the dent in the blade, and the new scratches on the hilt, he couldn't help but wonder…if he really would find her, or if he was chasing a corpse.
Rayla would never willingly leave one of her swords behind. She lost this, somehow. It was stolen from her, or she had to make a choice between her weapon and her life. Or she hadn't been conscious when it was left behind. Maybe she was traveling with someone else now, and they chose her safety over her blade.
He did his best to not feel jealous at the mere notion that she had a different traveling companion. If she did, then there was a higher likelihood of her safety.
That's what he had to hold onto. The possibility that she was safe.
Though…without her blade, she was less able to protect herself. If she got into future fights alone, would she be able to hold her own with only one blade? Did she even have the other sword? He had to hope that she did. Anything, anything to point to her being alive.
With the sword in his hand as he sat in the grass, Callum couldn't stave off the thoughts and images flowing through his mind of what could have happened to her, drifting back to his dreaded question: Am I chasing a corpse?
The question always brought tears to his eyes, but after two years, he couldn't avoid it. Not like he wanted to. Everyone else was acting like she was dead. And maybe she was. Maybe she lost this sword because she was killed. Maybe she had found Viren, and maybe he had done…horrible things. To Rayla. To his Rayla.
She could be dead. This could all be for nothing.
But maybe she was alive.
As long as there was a sliver of hope that he was going to see her again, he had to hold onto it. He was prepared for the worst. But as he stood up, managing to fold the dented butterfly blade in on itself, he took a breath, wiping his tears away, and hoped for the best.
This sword brought him one step closer to finding her. One way or another, he would discover the truth.
"You didn't," Rayla breathed, watching as Callum's eyes transitioned from black to his normal green. She had just let herself into his study, and he jumped away from the window to face her. But his eyes gave him away. He had just cast something, sources knew what, and he had not used sky magic to do it.
A fire sparked within her—not warm and flickering, but hot and biting. She took a step forward and put her hands to Callum’s chest, roughly shoving him as she snapped, “You didn’t!”
Callum stumbled backwards from the force of her shove, and when he regained his balance, he stared at her, emerald eyes wide. He stammered, “I-I was just—I mean, it’s not what it looked like, all I was trying to do—”
“Dark magic isn’t what it looks like?” Rayla shouted, stepping toward him once more to shove him again. “Dark magic, Callum! The hell’s become of you in the past two years?”
Piercing through her with a glare, Callum replied in a low tone, “I’m doing what I have to do. If there was any other way for me to do this, believe me, I’d take it, but there’s not.”
Rayla narrowed her eyes and grabbed a handful of his collar. “The Callum I used to know would never have even considered dark magic an option. Not after stupidly trying it once.” She took a second to study him. His face was no paler than usual. His eyes were clear. Steady on his feet.
He was fine. Nothing like after his first brush with dark magic. It was like…he had built up a tolerance. An immunity.
An immunity he should never have had.
“How many times have you done something like this?” Rayla hissed.
Instead of answering her question, Callum told her evenly, “As High Mage, my duty is to Ezran, and to Katolis. I have to use whatever means necessary to protect my king and country.”
She released his collar and took a few steps back, shaking her head. All she could manage was, “I don’t know who you’ve become. But you’re not my Callum. Not anymore,” before turning on her heel and running from the study.
It’s hot. With her work at the breach, Amaya’s used to how hot it can get, but she’s been sweating non-stop since the Sunfire elves trapped her in a ring of fire. They make sure she has enough water, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling dehydrated.
Being a prisoner isn’t all bad, though. The one who captured her continually fights to keep her alive, and the interpreter - Kazi, they said their name is - reminds her of Gren.
But she can’t keep being a prisoner forever. Things are happening outside. Things she needs to be a part of. Perhaps her captor will find it in her heart to let her go. Eventually.
As she considers her options, the ring of fire parts for a moment, and her captor steps in, holding parchment and charcoal. Her eyes are fixed, determined, as she sits down in front of Amaya.
“Teach me your hand language,” she demands. “I cannot understand what you say, but you can write, and I can learn.”
Amaya feels a smile tug at the corner of her lips, and nods, taking the writing utensils and writing a phrase before she signs it. My name is Amaya.
“Amaya,” her captor repeats. She holds her hand out for the charcoal, and when Amaya hands it over, she writes her name. Janai.
Quickly, Amaya shows her how to spell it, then writes out the alphabet and draws Janai’s attention to her fingers. She goes through the alphabet, and can’t help but admire the intense focus with which Janai watches her. Learning sign language wasn’t an easy task, especially when beginning to learn in adulthood.
When she finishes showing her the letters, she gestures for Janai to try.
The expression on Janai’s face is a little confused, a little annoyed, a little hopeless as her shoulders sag.
“I don’t think this language was meant for people with four fingers,” she says, holding up her hand.
That’s okay, Amaya signs, then writes Try.
She does. She has to substitute her last finger for the lack of pinkie, but it works just fine. The shapes of her letters are hesitant and a bit sloppy. Amaya takes it upon herself to stop Janai whenever she doesn’t make the right shape, and position her fingers herself. Janai tenses at that, but doesn’t stop her, and mutters a thank-you each time.
They spend what must be over an hour learning the basics. Janai can introduce herself and ask simple questions, and Amaya notices how she puffs her chest out proudly, just a bit.
Something tells her that this isn’t going to be their only sign lesson.
