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sorinethemastermind · 16 days ago

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Blackest Night (3/4)

In which Soren's family search for him in the hopes it's not too late, and Soren has to choose his destiny. @honeii-puff here's like 9K words of emotional devastation.

Soren opened his eyes, but he might as well not have. His surroundings were pitch black. Until they weren’t.

A beam of light pierced the endless darkness overhead, shining directly down onto him. He squinted, throwing up a hand to shield his eyes. It was then, with his hand over his face, that he realized the purple veins were gone. He turned his hand over and over, inspecting it. The cut on his palm was gone as well. And… he felt fine?

He looked around, eyes slowly adjusting to the dichotomy of complete light and darkness. There were no trees, no sky, no grass beneath his feet. And most importantly, no Aaravos.

“Hello?” he called, turning to take in the endless dark surrounding him. No shapes loomed out of it, no figures appearing to tell him where he was or what this was. Did he cast a spell on me? Soren wondered, beginning to panic. Does that mean Aaravos survived?

“Hello? Is anybody there?” he called again, stepping out of the beam of light. Or, trying to. It moved with him and he glanced up, searching for a source. That was a mistake, it was blinding, and he looked away quickly, blinking rapidly.

“Alright, fine.” he said to the darkness. “If you won’t tell me what you are, then I’ll just figure it out myself.”

He started to walk. The light followed him, the darkness on every side remaining otherwise absolute. It gave him the impression of walking in place, which as good a work out as that could be, was not his intention. But he had to be going somewhere. This place couldn’t go on forever. Could it?

It took him a little while to realize that there was something different under his feet. Soren looked down, confused to see footprints that weren’t his own. He looked behind himself, the vague outlines of them just visible in the dimness where the light met the darkness, fading out of view behind him like they went on forever, too. He turned back ahead and saw them stretching before him as well; definitely not his own footprints, then.

He followed them, his own feet fitting them perfectly, as though the path had been made for him. As though some other version of him had walked it long before he had ever come to this place. Or, Soren thought more logically, maybe I’m just going in circles and I didn’t realize it.

But that made less and less sense the more he thought about it. He’d been walking straight this entire time, never even weaving to one side or the other. Which could only mean one thing; he wasn’t alone.

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Thankfully, Corvus was a tracker and Soren wasn’t the most subtle man in the world. They were able to pick up his trail fairly easily, once they realized he’d left straight out the main gate. His footsteps in the ash led them to the edge of the road, and from there into the woods. His destination was clear to all of them, and they picked up the pace, moving as quickly as they could over the uneven ground.

Aaravos had thought of that, too. Callum thought bitterly. The trees were too thick for horses, the ground uneven enough to make sure a larger force would have a hard time picking their way through.

“Why would Soren do this?” Ezran was asking, panting as he trudged alongside them. His shorter legs were having to work twice as hard for him to keep pace with them.

“I don’t know.” Callum said, the animosity between them forgotten under the current circumstances.

“You two don’t pay very good attention, then.” Corvus said from up ahead, turning back to them. “He would do anything for you.”

“But we didn’t ask-”

“You didn’t have to.” Corvus said, turning back to the trail.

Callum felt chastised, and maybe rightly so. Soren had always been there for them, even after things got complicated. Sure, there had been some bumps in the road. But he was practically their brother. Callum shook his head.

“I just don’t understand why he’d be so stupid as to go and do it alone.”

“He’s Soren.” The other three said at once.

Callum grimaced. The spell had certainly seemed like a better idea when it had been his own life on the line. Now though… he just hoped they wouldn’t arrive too late.

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Soren followed the path of footsteps for a long time. He wasn’t honestly sure just how long, but it was enough for him to start to wonder if he really had just been going in circles this entire time. He was on the verge of giving up; breaking off and walking into the darkness in some other direction just to see what would happen, when he saw a glimmer of movement in the distance. He picked up the pace, at first shifting into a light jog, but it turned into an all out run not long after.

The glimmer slowly gained a form, and then features, and then Soren came to an abrupt halt. He was close enough now that the light shone on the both of them, and he reached out towards the familiar figure.

“Clauds?” he asked, hesitating for a moment before grabbing her arm. “Claudia, is that you?”

She didn’t wrench away from him like he’d expected her to, instead turning slowly to face him. Her skin was a pale gray, marred with the dull purple scars of dark magic. Her hair, once black, was almost entirely white.

“Sorbear?” she asked, eyes going wide, her smile wider. “Oh, it is you!”

She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace, catching Soren off guard and nearly throwing him off balance.

“I’ve missed you.” she said before releasing him, stepping back to smile up at him. “But now you’re here!”

Claudia grabbed his hand and started pulling him on along the path, their footfalls landing perfectly in the indents already laid out before them. Even though he’d found Claudia, the prints were still stretching ahead of them both; like a preordained road to… somewhere. He didn’t know where, and didn’t know if he wanted to.

“Claudia, wait.” Soren pulled his hand from her grasp, forcing her to stop and turn back to him. “Where are we?”

“We’re not there yet, silly.” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come on, we will be soon.”

“No.” Soren said, glancing around them in steadily growing alarm. “Where are we right now? Did Aaravos trap you in here, too?”

“Trap me? We’re not trapped. We’re almost there.” She reiterated, trying to take his hand again. He pulled away from her.

“Clauds, I don’t think this is right.”

She frowned, eyes flickering solid black for a split second, and Soren took a step back. But then it was gone, like he’d made it up. Maybe he had, along with the rest of this place. Or maybe…

“Claudia, it’s okay. I’m going to get you out of here.” Soren placed his hands on her shoulders, only seeing the smiling face of his little sister despite the gray complexion and violet markings.

“It’s going to be okay.” he repeated.

“What do you mean it’s going to be?” she asked, tilting her head to give him a confused half smile. “It’s already okay. We’re almost there.”

“I don’t know where there is.” Soren told her. “But if Aaravos wants us to go that way, we definitely shouldn’t.”

“Aaravos is dead, Sorbear.” she told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You killed him, remember? Now come on, Dad is waiting."

“Dad-” the word shot through Soren like lightning, his grip on Claudia’s shoulders tightening.

“Ow!” she pulled away from him and he released her instantly. “Soren, you’re scaring me.”

“I- I’m sorry.” he stammered, reaching out for her momentarily before pulling his hands back. “It’s just… Dad is dead, Claudia.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No. No, no-”

“But it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. We still have each other. We’ll figure it out. ”

Claudia’s shoulders were shaking, and Soren glanced around desperately for a way out, another pathway, anything.

“No-no-no-no.” Claudia was saying, the words bleeding together as her voice climbed higher. “No-no-no-no-no!”

Soren turned back to her, searching for something to say, some way to explain what had happened. But before he could say anything she threw back her head, a hysterical burst of laughter escaping her throat.

“No, no, no!” she screamed, and when she looked back at him, purple tears were leaking down her face. “Dad isn’t dead, because if he was, then it would be your fault. And you wouldn't do something like that, would you? Not again. Because I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Claudia shook her head. “I don’t think I could forgive you a second time.”

“Clauds, please, you have to understand.” Soren reached for her, his voice breaking.

“How could you?” She screamed. “How could you? How could you?”

Soren covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, the shrill sound echoing through the darkness around him.

“How could you? How could you? How could you?”

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Rayla was pretty sure this was all her fault, somehow. Then again, she was pretty sure that most things were. She was exhausted; both mentally and physically. But she couldn’t let that stop her. Not now, not when Soren could be dying around any corner.

If only I hadn’t asked Callum to come sleep in my room, she berated herself. How dumb am I? How could I have not seen this coming.

“Rayla, are you okay?” Callum’s voice broke through her internal litany and she turned to where he was walking beside her. It was nearly midday, and she could see the sweat on his brow, the tired bags under his eyes from another sleepless night. Even when they did reach the glen, they were in no position to face Aaravos. Their only hope was that Soren had succeeded in casting the spell and killing him. And that meant hoping that Soren had, in fact, poisoned himself with Dark Magic. It was a grim hope. One Rayla would rather not have.

“I’m okay.” she sighed. What else was there to say? It wasn’t like they could turn back. Not when this was their fault in the first place.

“Do you need to rest?”

“We can’t rest, Callum.” Corvus told them from up ahead. His lead had only grown over the last couple hours; nearly doubling so that now she only caught sight of him when he doubled back to check on them. Now must have been one of those times.

“Soren could be anywhere, don’t you realize that?” he continued, voice hard and pointed. “Because of your spell.”

“I didn’t ask him to do this!” Callum snapped back, instantly defensive. “And anyway, when did you start to care so much about Soren?”

Rayla could see instantly in Corvus’ face that Callum’s words had actually hurt him, and she stepped between them. If Soren wasn’t here to do it, then she would have to fill his shoes.

“Stop it, both of you.” she told them. “Callum, I’m fine. And Corvus is right. We don’t have time to rest, anyway.”

She turned to where the tracker had stopped in the woods up ahead of them. “And Corvus, you know he didn’t mean that. We all care about Soren. That’s why we’re on edge.”

Corvus just sighed, the hurt in his eyes lingering despite her words. But it wasn’t hurt from what Callum had said, Rayla slowly realized. It was something deeper, older.

“I just… couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to him, and I’d never told him.” Corvus said, slowly.

“Told him what?” Rayla asked softly, taking a few steps closer to him.

Corvus didn’t meet her gaze, instead leaving it firmly fixed on his shoes. “That I love him.”

She heard Callum’s stifled gasp behind her, but didn’t pay it any mind. Instead she crossed the remaining distance separating her from Corvus and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be able to tell him. I know it.”

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When Soren opened his eyes, Claudia was gone, the shrill echoes of her laughter fading into the luxurious, if somewhat threadbare, upholstery of his father’s office. He let his hands fall back to his sides. What kind of prison is this, he thought desperately.

“Ah, Soren, you’re here.”

He whirled at the sound of his father’s voice, hand going for the blade at his side, except, of course, it wasn't there. Viren was facing a bookshelf a few steps away from him, one hand absently tracing the spines of the books even as his eyes roved over them.

“Good. Here it is." He took one of them down, walking past Soren as though this was a normal occurrence - as though he wasn’t a ghost - and cleared a space for it on the table. The tome made a loud thump as he dropped it onto the scarred wood, the cover falling open to reveal a page near the end, the paper creased and stained.

“Come. I want to show you something.” his father said, beckoning him forward with a finger. Soren found his feet moving nearly of their own volition, carrying him towards the table. He considered resisting, but there was something oddly comforting about his father being there, just like he used to; dressed in his old robes of office and hunched over a book.

“What is it?” Soren asked as he came to a halt beside Viren, only to find that he was too short to see over the top of the table. “I can’t see.”

His voice had climbed in pitch, and when he looked down at his hands, he found a familiar dragon plush clutched in them.

“Daddy?” he asked, looking up. “Daddy, I can’t see.”

His father reached down and picked him up, setting him on the edge of the table. Soren sat there, legs dangling over the side of the table, and peered at where Viren was pointing. The book depicted a smiling family; a mother, father, and two children. A son and a daughter.

“It’s us.” Soren declared, pointing at each in turn. “That’s you, and that’s Clauds, and that’s me, and that’s-”

Except when he went to point at the mother, she was suddenly gone, and in place of the little family portrait were the instructions to a spell.

“Where did Mommy go?” Soren asked, looking up at his father. His eyes, once smiling, had gone cold. Viren turned away.

“She left.” he told Soren, and the lights in the office began to snuff out until only one remained, directly above Soren’s head. He squinted against the harshness of it as his father’s form retreated into the dark.

“Daddy?” he asked, the dragon plus falling from his grasp as he reached for him. But the darkness continued to swallow the room, and him with it.

“She left, just like you did.”

“I- I had no choice.” Soren stumbled to his feet, legs suddenly long enough to reach the floor again. He grabbed for his father, but he was trapped inside the light, unable to reach him. “You didn’t give me any choice!”

“You always had a choice.” Viren spat, turning back to him, eyes shining black, dull purple scars creeping out from beneath his collar and stretching up across his face. “I made sure of that. You would be dead without me, Soren. I gave you everything. And you still left. What did you want from me? What more could I have given you? I gave you my heart.”

And the darkness ate up his father, and it ate up the room, and Soren was falling.

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Neither Ezran nor Callum really knew what to say to Corvus’ proclamation, so they just continued on. Rayla walked beside him for a little ways, offering comfort. She understood more than most, Ezran guessed, what waiting too long felt like. If in a different sort of way.

Ez looked up at his big brother, plodding along beside him. He could see the tired lines in his face, reminding him of the way their father had looked after an especially long council session.

“Are you okay?” Ezran asked him, quiet enough that neither Rayla or Corvus could hear. He knew his brother well enough to know that if Rayla was present, he would be too worried about her to really talk about whatever was bothering him. They were both so silly, sometimes.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Ezran pried. “You certainly seem like you’ve got some big feelings in there.”

“I said I’m fine.” Callum snapped, but after a moment his expression softened to one of remorse. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You just needed to get it out of your system.”

“I- I’m sorry, about a lot of things.” Callum admitted.

"Well?" Ezran waited, raising an eyebrow at his older brother. Callum sighed, half laugh and half exasperation.

"I'm sorry about the way I've been treating you." he continued. "And I'm sorry about not warning you about Runaan, and I’m sorry about-"

"Wait, Callum." Ezran interrupted him. "I'm sorry, too. I… I understand why you brought Runaan back. I don't necessarily agree, but I understand. You did it for her."

Their gazes both trailed up the path to Rayla and Callum smiled a little weakly.

"I'd do anything for her." He looked back down to Ezran. "Just like I would do anything for you."

"I know, Callum. But did you ever think that maybe I don’t want you to?”

Callum paused, looked away. “That’s not how it works.”

“Are you glad that Soren did this?”

“What? No, of course not-” he broke off, shaking his head. “You’re good, you know that?”

“I know it.” Ezran said, flashing his brother a quick grin before continuing; “So… you wish that Soren had come to you for help, and let you help him? Do you, maybe, I don’t know; wish he hadn’t of run off to sacrifice himself for the greater good even though you didn’t ask him to? Do you maybe wish that you could do something to help him other than just hope he’s alive?”

“I think you’ve made your point.” Callum told him. Ezran stopped abruptly in the middle of the forest, turning to throw his arms around his brother.

“Good.” he said, voice muffled by Callum’s shirt. After a moment his brother’s arms closed around him, and he rested his chin on Ezran’s head the same way he used to when Ez was small. He still was small. Sometimes even Ezran himself forgot that.

“No more stupid hero stuff.” Callum told him.

“No more stupid hero stuff.” Ezran agreed. “We’re family. We’re supposed to be stupid together.”

“Are you going to tell Soren that if we find him?”

“When.” Ezran said, pulling away and looking up at Callum, expression set. “When we find him.”

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Soren landed on something hard, and cold, and distinctly familiar. He gasped as the wind was knocked from his lungs by the force of the impact, taking a moment to regain it before trying to push himself back up to his feet. But his arms and legs didn’t obey. He tried again, but only achieved the same result.

A familiar panic filled him, and Soren fought to keep his breathing steady. Rain began to fall from the sky as he lay there, alone in the dark, unable to move. It was just him and the boulder. Until it wasn’t. Somewhere nearby a dragon roared and Soren flinched, or he tried to, but he couldn’t.

It’s okay, he told himself, desperation rising in his chest even as he tried to remain calm. His heart thudded against his ribs, the sound climbing in his ears. It’s okay, this isn’t real. It’s all just a trick.

But the roar of the dragon came again, closer this time, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it away. It’s just Pyrrah. You and Pyrrah are friends. You’re friends with dragons. You’re one of the good guys now.

The roar sounded so close he imagined she had to be right in front of him, and his eyes flew open. But there was nothing there; only more darkness.

“Hello?” he tried, voice wavering. The rain filled his mouth when he opened it, and he spat it out. It tasted acrid, not like rain at all. “Hello!? Anybody?”

Nobody appeared out of the darkness, not even Pyrrah. Was it Pyrrah? What if it was someone else, like the dragon that had destroyed Katolis?

As if summoned by the notion, buildings began to loom out of the darkness around Soren; crumbled battlements and the charred remains of the stables. His breathing quickened, what once had been rain turning to ash. It landed on him; coating his skin and filling his nose and mouth with every breath. Soren coughed, choking on the thick, cloying flakes.

“Help!” he called, watching as the ash began to build up on him. He tried again to move, but it was pointless. “Help! Help, anybody, please! I can’t move!”

The ash was endless, covering everything in sight. It wasn’t long before it had built up enough of a layer on him that he blended into the already covered ground.

“Help!” he called again, but it just filled his mouth more.

Then, movement. Soren’s eyes tracked it along the edges of his peripheral vision, wondering if it was the dragon, come to finish him off.

“Hello?” he called anyway. If it was, then it was. And if it wasn’t, then maybe they could help him.

“What is it that you said?” A voice answered from the dark, almost playful. “The castle is just a building, we need to save lives.”

“And how did you save those lives?" the voice asked, becoming painfully familiar. It was behind him now, but Soren couldn’t turn his head. It answered it’s own question. “By taking one. You really are your father’s son.”

“I’m nothing like him.” Soren snarled.

“Oh, but you are.” Aaravos crooned, stepping into view from around the other side of the boulder. “Asking others to sacrifice themselves for your greater good. Isn’t that why you left him, after all? And here you are, turning to Dark Magic the moment it’s convenient.”

“There was no other way.” Soren said. “I- I didn’t ask him to do it. I offered to-”

“Oh, you knew he would never agree to that.” Aaravos waved the notion away, but paused at the look on Soren’s face.

“You really thought he would do that to you? Your father was never that much of a monster.” he laughed. “No matter how much you want to think him one, he always cared for you and your sister. It was his greatest weakness. It was what stopped him from being great.”

Aaravos clucked his tongue and gave a shake of his head. “A pity, really. He couldn’t be good, but if he hadn’t of had you holding him back, at least he could have been great. Your sister, on the other hand.” he smiled. “Now she will be great.”

“You stay away from her!” Soren shouted, desperately trying to move. His body didn’t listen any more than it had before.

Another voice came from the shadows then, and Claudia stepped into the light beside Aaravos. Her hair was solid white, her features scarred and distorted. Soren’s eyes widened.

“I thought you wanted me to make a choice?” she said, lingering at the elf’s side. Aaravos reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“No.” Soren choked out. “Please, Clauds, he’s dangerous.”

“You said that about Dad, once. And look where he is now.” She waved a hand and gestured to the debris surrounding them. “Buried under the rubble of your failings. Maybe he wasn’t the dangerous one. Maybe it’s you.”

“Claudia, please.”

“You wanted me to choose, Soren. I made my choice.”

“No, Claudia, you can’t do this.” But they were already fading into the darkness and he couldn’t even try and reach for her. “Claudia! He’s using you!”

“Then what were you doing?”

“What-”

“I’m like this because of you.” she turned back to him, stepping out of the dark just enough for him to see her face again. Her hair had reverted to it’s original black, all but for a single white streak. “Everything I did, I did for my family. But you, you abandoned us. Just like Mom did. Just like everybody does.”

“It wasn’t-”

“You left me.” she sobbed. “You left me. You said that no matter what happened, we would always have each other. And then you left me.”

She turned away again, her form retreating into the darkness. “See how it feels.”

“Claudia! Wait, come back! I won’t leave you! I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again!” he called after her until his throat was raw and every breath was choked with ash. Until the rubble around him was buried in it, and he was too. Until all he could see, and taste, and breath was gray.

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When they found him, they almost couldn’t believe it. They arrived well after sundown, the moon and flitting forms of lighting bugs offering the only light. Corvus almost didn’t see it through the darkness, but at the last moment the moonlight reflected off a half broken statue of an elf, standing in a clearing, and he stumbled forward, feet crunching on something jagged.

He looked down, lifting his foot carefully off the smashed glass jar on the ground. A book lay on the stone next to it, small droplets of blood smearing the page with the incantation.

“Soren!” Corvus cried, not caring who might hear. “Soren, hold on!”

He stumbled forward, hearing the others picking up the pace behind him. They burst into the clearing at about the same time that he spotted him, lying on the grass near the statue’s feet. But he wasn’t alone. There was a cloaked figure leaning over him, small and frail. Corvus’ hand drifted towards his weapon even before he realized who it was.

Claudia looked up at him, the hood falling back from her face to reveal hair almost entirely stark white. The only thing that stalled his hand was the sight of the tears in her eyes, her cheeks already wet with them.

“What did you have him do?” she asked, voice harsh and quavering.

Corvus came to halt above them both, and Claudia looked past him and towards the others. Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “What did you have him do!?”

Ezran was the one who answered. “We didn’t ask him to do this, Claudia.”

“And why should I believe that?” she hissed, standing up to face them, hands going to the staff slung across her back. “All you’ve ever done is use him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You- you manipulated him, lied to him. It’s the only way he could have… have turned on us. Turned on me. You did something to him.”

“We didn’t do anything, Claudia.” Ezran’s voice was gentle, like he was trying to calm a wild animal.

“Then why-” her voice broke, hand falling from the staff as she dropped back to the ground beside her brother, both hands clasping one of Soren’s. “Why would he leave me? Why would he do this?”

“Aaravos is the one using people.” Callum said from behind Corvus. “Or, he was.”

“Don’t talk about him that way.” Claudia snapped. “Aaravos believed in humans. He gave us magic.”

“He destroyed Katolis! He killed your father!”

Claudia turned to them then, horror painting her features, but it was just as quickly replaced by disbelief. “He would never. You killed my father. You and your elf.”

Corvus let them argue, he couldn’t care less. He dropped to Soren’s side even as Claudia rose from it, her and Callum’s voices rising as they began a shouting match. It wasn’t long before Ezran and Rayla joined them.

Corvus brushed Soren’s hair from his face, clutching one of his friend’s hands to his chest. It was crisscrossed with purple veins, standing out against his pale skin.

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“Come back to me, Soren. Please.”

Soren was floating, drifting lazily through the dark as he sank further and further below the surface. The ash had given way to the endless churning of a gray sea, the crashing waves just vague flashes of movement far above him. But the familiar voice pierced the depths like a ray of light, illuminating the water around Soren.

“Corvus?” his question emerged as a stream of bubbles from his lips, and Soren was suddenly aware of the fact that his lungs were full of water. He choked, gasping desperately for air even as the feeling returned to his limbs and he began to kick towards the surface.

He swam upward, but the churning waves above him never seemed to get any closer. Pushing frantically at the water, he tried to propel himself further, but what oxygen had been in his body was swiftly running out, the water in his lungs like a weight dragging him down further. He fumbled awkwardly with his armor, detaching it and letting it fall away. Lightened, he tried again, kicking at the water until-

“Soren, please. Please come back to me. I need you.”

His head broke the surface, coughing up water, and then his father was there, leaning over his bedside, and the waves had transformed into the rumbled sheets of his bed.

“It’s okay, Soren.” His father said. “Breathe. Just breathe. In through-”

Soren threw the remaining covers aside, stumbling from the bed and towards the door. He wasn’t going to do this again. He wasn’t going to fall for whatever trick this was.

“Soren?” Another voice brought him to an instant standstill, and he stood there, eyes squeezed shut, as though that would stop him from hearing it. Stop it from being real.

“Soren, are you alright?” his mother stood from her place at the foot of his bed, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on his arm. And suddenly he wasn’t trying to escape, he was trying to stay. To stay there in her arms, because she was enveloping him in a warm hug, and somehow she smelled the same way he remembered from when he was small. He hadn’t even realized he remembered until now.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, as though she could slip away at any moment.

“Soren, it’s okay. It’s okay, now. Just breathe.”

And he did, shakily at first, but growing stronger and steadier, until his lungs weren’t burning anymore. She let him go, stepping back to look at him with a smile in her eyes and on her face.

“There we go. Isn’t that better?”

“You’re not real.” he choked out. “None of this is real.”

“Of course I’m real, Soren.” she reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair out of his face. “I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.” he managed, almost as though convincing her would make it better. Would make this all end. “None of this is. You’re… you left. And Dad-”

“What about me, son?” his father stood up, looking at him the way he used to. The way he looked at him before he got sick.

“You’re dead.” Soren told him, voice breaking. “I killed you.”

Something crashed above them and the beams of the house shook, but neither of them so much as glanced up. Soren could hear screaming outside, and he looked around wildly for the door.

“What’s happening?” he asked, but when he turned back to them, it was only his father, dressed in rags, standing in his cell.

The cuffs clattered from his wrists as Soren watched, and the screams outside rose in pitch. When Soren looked down at his hands, he found the Staff of Xiard clutched in them. He dropped it in horror, staggering back against the cold iron bars of the cell.

“It’s okay, Soren.” his father stepped closer, leaning down to pick up the staff. “I have to do this.”

“No.” Soren shook his head, blocking his way to the door. “I- I’m not going to kill you again.”

“Oh, my son.” Viren took a step forward, reaching out for Soren hesitantly before letting his hand fall back down to his side. “You didn’t kill me. I made the sacrifice, the same way you did. Anything for family. However dangerous, however vile.”

“But I-”

“Don’t. Let me do this for you.”

Soren hesitated. Anything for family. His expression hardened. “You’re right.”

He reached out, snatching the staff from his father’s hands and running from the room. He let the cell door clang shut behind him, turning swiftly to lock it before his father could follow.

“Soren!” Viren called, reaching for him through the bars. “Soren, don’t! Dark Magic is dangerous!”

However dangerous. Soren ran for the stairs that led from the dungeons, turning back one last time as he neared them, just long enough to see his father’s sad smile.

“I’m so proud of you, son.”

Soren turned and he ran away. He didn’t even notice that he was crying.

The great tree in the courtyard was burning, raining flaming leaves onto the stones below. They singed Soren’s arms and face as he ran beneath it, yelling at everyone to get out; to leave everything and run. He thundered up the stairs and down the halls, barely stopping to catch his breath, and crashed through the already damaged doors and into the king’s quarters. There, he thought. That's where he did it.

Soren glanced around wildly, searching for a weapon. Ezran wasn’t the type to keep a blade in his chambers, but King Harrow had been. Soren pulled the halberd from the iron grip of the suit of armor that clutched it, trying desperately to remember what the rune was that he had seen on his father’s chest when he pulled him from the rubble. Despite his attempts not to look at it, the image had burned itself into Soren’s mind. He’d never thought he’d be grateful for that one day.

He went to the edge of the bed, bracing the thinnest point of the metal against the footboard and applying as much pressure as he could. The cold steel cut into his hand as he pressed on it, but he didn’t stop until a small part of it snapped away. Discarding the rest of the weapon, he lifted the shard from where it had landed on the ground and - realizing he’d already abandoned his chestplate in the gray sea - set to work.

He hissed with pain as the metal bit into his skin, but the rune didn’t need to be deep. He hoped. Once he had finished, he let the shard of bloodied metal fall back to the floor and staggered towards the open doors of the balcony. He could still hear people screaming, their voices rising as he stepped out into the open air, thick with smoke and ash. Flames crackled nearby, and he could feel their searing heat on his face and exposed skin.

The dragon swooped by overhead, and he could swear that he heard laughing. The cold, ruthless laugh of his enemy. Soren staggered forward, supporting himself on the carved railings of the balcony. Reaching the end, he hefted the staff before him, fingers slotting into place as though he’d done it a thousand times before. As though it were destiny.

Maybe it was, some bitter part of him though. A destiny he’d spent his entire life running from. Well, he wasn’t running now.

“Hearts of cinder… do not burn.” he muttered it to himself the first time. “Hearts of cinder.. do not… burn.” he said it again, more forcefully this time. And when the dragon swooped by again overhead, he raised the staff, and he proclaimed it to the sky.

“𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” the dragon’s head swiveled to face him at the sound of his voice, and it roared. But Soren wasn’t afraid.

“𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!” he told it, watching as the purple light shone from the staff and washed over the people below him. It moved like a wave across the courtyard and the castle, enveloping everyone. It was kind of pretty, Soren thought dimly.

The dragon roared again, mouth opening wide, and he could see the flames building in its throat. But he just roared back. “𝔑𝔯𝔲𝔟 𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞𝔠 𝔯𝔢𝔡𝔫𝔦𝔠 𝔣𝔬 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔢𝔥!”

And the spell settled into place, protecting everyone below him. “My heart for Katolis!” he screamed at the dragon as it spewed it’s fiery breath down upon them.

And nobody burned, but Soren did.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Claudia shouted at them until her voice was hoarse and none of them had anything left to say. She probably would have kept shouting, even then, except as she was opening her mouth to do just that, Soren gave a horrible, blood curdling scream behind them and everything else was forgotten.

Claudia fell to her knees beside her brother. Clasping his hand in hers and clutching it to her. His chest was rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths, and she could feel her own quickening to match.

“What’s happening to him?” Corvus asked her in a panic. Even as the rest of them argued with each other, he had never left Soren’s side. Claudia looked up to meet his gaze, finding tears in his eyes. She felt her own fill as well.

“He’s dying.” she managed. Nobody, not even Callum, had the heart to yell at her then.

“What do you mean he’s dying?” The elf - Rayla - dropped to the ground beside Corvus, looking anxiously down at Soren before glancing back up at Claudia. “He- he can’t be…”

She trailed off, eyes roving over the spiderweb of deep purple veins stretching under his skin like tiny fissures. Some of them had burst, forming deep violet and magenta bruises across his body.

“What’s happening to him?” The elf asked, a quaver in her voice.

Claudia remembered what her brother had said in the Drakewood about being friends with elves and dragons. Maybe he hadn't been full of it after all. But if he was right about that, then… she looked up at the statue looming over all of this, Aaravos’ face frozen forever in a snarl, a single line of moisture having leaked from his eye and down his cheek.

She had tried not to think about what the others said. Not really. Aaravos had tried so hard to save her father, why would he turn around and kill him? And destroying the castle, that didn't make any sense at all... except that it did. And that reality had kept nagging at her even once they’d all stopped shouting and fallen into angry silence.

Because the pearl had been there, waiting for him. Waiting for her. And the dragon that had done it - and died in the process - was an ancient enemy of his. Like from the story. She remembered Terry telling her how things got twisted along the way; warning her that she couldn't trust Aaravos.

She didn’t know if she could bear it all being a lie. If she had just been a pawn. Claudia squeezed her eyes shut, lying her head on Soren’s chest and listening to the rapid thumping of his heart.

“He won’t die.” Rayla said, as though willing it to be true. “Soren is strong. He’ll get through this.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Claudia murmured, not bothering to raise her head. “This isn’t like when Callum or I used Dark Magic. Soren is different.”

She waited for them to put the pieces together, but they didn’t. Instead, after a moment, Callum asked; “What are you talking about?”

Claudia did raise her head then, just enough to glare at him. “Can you really not put two and two together? The spell is reacting with the Dark Magic already in his system.”

Callum looked like he was about to snap back at her, but Ezran interrupted his brother, raising a hand to shush him as he turned to Claudia. “Already in his system?”

“Do you ever even talk to him, or do you just send him off on errands for you?”

“Claudia, please.” And it was Corvus this time, voice filled with pain and fear, and she couldn't snap at him; not when it was so clear how much he cared about her brother. Claudia remembered, bittersweetly, how Soren had tried to shave a scar into his eyebrow like the one Corvus had. How cool he’d thought the older guard was, even then. So she sighed, and there wasn’t venom in her voice as she answered; only sadness.

“You act all high and mighty, like it’s beneath you, but Soren wouldn’t be here without Dark Magic. Without me and my Dad’s magic. You were there." she said, looking up at Callum and his elf friend. "You saw the dragon. Did you really think he just got up and walked away after it slammed him with it's tail? Threw him into a rock?"

She shook her head and laughed bitterly. "Of course you did, because if that's what happened, then him getting hurt wouldn't be your fault. This-" she thrust his hand out to them again, making them really look at the purple lines stretching across his skin. "This is how he's still standing. So you're welcome."

Nobody interrupted her as she continued, the story pouring out of her now that she’d started. “He was paralyzed. None of my other spells were working, but I knew I couldn’t leave him like that. So I did what I had to do. However dangerous, however vile. Anything for family.”

She looked up at them, and she could imagine the way they saw her then. The monster they thought she was. “Anything.”

But nobody called her names, or told her she was wrong, or that she was evil. Instead they just watched as she gently brushed her thumb across the back of Soren’s hand, willing him to wake up. When he didn’t, she went on.

“You probably don’t remember, it was before you moved into the castle, Callum. Before Ezran was even born. But you do remember your Dad. You talked about it sometimes, after. Not much. Nobody likes to talk about those things. But I realized, later, that it must have been the same thing. When Soren was little, sometimes he couldn’t breathe. I didn’t really understand what was happening at the time, I was too little. But it was scary. And then it got really bad. He would just lie in bed all day, trying to breathe, and I could hear him through the walls. Fighting for every breath, every second of life.”

She looked up at all of them, daring them to judge her. To judge her father. “So my Dad fixed it. He did what he had to do for our family. However dangerous, however vile. Soren is only alive because we’ve been willing to do whatever it takes. And I would do it all again. And maybe you think you wouldn’t, but you would. If it was Ez, or Rayla, or your Dad. You would do it too.”

She was just speaking to Callum, then. Because he had always been the one who hated her for it the most, she knew. Who had been the most afraid. The weakest. But he didn’t look weak now. Or afraid. Instead she saw the harsh recognition in his eyes that yes, he would have done the same. However dangerous, however vile.

“And now he’s going to die.” Claudia said. “Because of all of you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Soren was ashamed to admit that he had screamed when the fire washed over him. It had only burned for a moment, but it had been one moment too many. He hated to think how long that single second had dragged on for his father. If it had been more than one; how long he might have lain there, alone, as the castle crumbled around him.

But Soren had gotten lucky. From the fire he fell into a deep, cool blue ocean, and the water washed the heat and the burns away. Soren let it hold him, let it fill him up with peace and quiet and float him away wherever it liked. He was tired. He was done. He didn’t want to see what the next vision had in store for him.

But eventually the waves washed him ashore and he found himself on a sunny beach, looking up at a blue, cloudless sky. Soren closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t give up yet.

Surveying his surroundings, Soren tried to imagine what sort of monster would appear this time. Maybe a dragon, swooping down from overhead? Or an endless army of foes, rushing at him from the woods? Maybe it would be nice and simple; a Banther or something, come to gobble him up. He trudged over to the forest’s edge and snapped a large branch off one of the trees. At least this time he would have a weapon. But nothing came.

After a while of standing around, brandishing a stick at every rustling leaf or twittering bird, Soren began to feel silly and returned to the beach, settling down with his legs crossed before him to watch the gentle lapping of the waves. It was peaceful, and he was exhausted. First he let himself sprawl out on the beach, feeling the waves wash over his feet and enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face. Then he let go of the stick, using his arms as a pillow instead. Finally, he let the drowsiness of sleep take him .

Soren dreamt of worried voices, calling his name and asking him to wake up. They started as a low murmur; the voices undistinguishable from each other as they wove in and out. But slowly, steadily, they grew in strength until he could hear Claudia and Corvus, Callum and Ezran and Rayla. Soren tried not to listen to them, to the worry in their voices and the fear, knowing that it was all just some cruel trick by whatever purgatory he was trapped in.

But then Claudia’s voice started to sob, begging him to wake up, telling him that he was the only family she had left; pleading for him not to leave her again. Saying that she needs him. And Corvus told him that he wasn’t allowed to die, that he had something important to tell him, if he would just wake up. And Rayla was saying that he was stronger than this, and Ez told him that he needed him, and Callum said that he was a part of their family, and Soren couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t ignore them and pretend that they weren’t there; because he needed them too.

So he forced his eyes open, hand reaching for the stick, expecting to find himself back on the beach. But of course not, that would have been too easy. Instead his hand closed around his sword, lying at his bedside, and his eyes opened to find himself in his bedroom at the castle. Alright. He thought, standing and rolling his shoulders. Prepare to be dominated, evil dream world. My family needs me.

Or maybe that was just a part of the hallucination, too. He pushed the thought from his mind. No. They need me. I just need to wake up.

Soren tried pinching himself to be sure he was still asleep and hadn’t just somehow been brought back to the castle, but while it hurt like all heck (he might have done it a bit too hard) he still wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a part of whatever hallucination he’d been having.

Especially not when it was suddenly the dead of night.

The change had occurred as soon as he stepped out of his room and into the wider halls of the castle; the torches along the walls all bursting into flame, shadows growing in the dark recesses of the corridors until it was night inside and out. Soren’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to creep down the hall, feet carrying him towards the distant sound of fighting. It grew steadily louder as he approached, until he was stepping over what must have been the beginnings of it; fallen guards, pierced through by arrows with terrifying accuracy.

Soren almost came to a halt as he recognized the fletching on them; the all too familiar blue and green of the Moonshadow assassins that had taken King Harrow’s life. Alarmed, Soren glanced down at his armor, horrified to find that it was the old model; familiar silver, black, and gold. As if called into existence by his realization that it was there, his old cape billowed around his legs. Soren gritted his teeth and continued onward.

The sounds of fighting only continued to grow in pitch and intensity until the clang of blades and muffled grunts of combat filled the entire hall, echoing around Soren like the chorus of some especially brutal song. His pace quickened, knowing now where he was going, until he was running through the halls of the castle. He skidded to a halt before the great doors, already pierced through and peppered with arrows, just like the bodies of the guard strewn before them.

He pushed them open and stepped inside just as one of the assassins withdrew their blade from King Harrow’s chest. Except it wasn't King Harrow. Soren let out an anguished cry as Ezran’s body slumped to the ground. The moonlight glistened off the polished silver of the assassin’s weapon as it dripped blood onto the floor, and they turned to Soren, pushing the hood back from their face to reveal a horrifyingly familiar face.

“Rayla?” he gasped, taking a step back. She unsheathed her other blade, falling into an attack stance. “Rayla, please, I don’t want to fight you.”

“I thought that was all you wanted?” she hissed, springing towards him with superhuman agility. He just barely managed to bring his blade up to block her strike in time, the pair of them stumbling back out into the hall. Soren fought desperately to keep his footing as she pressed him with everything she had, but he was exhausted, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

“Rayla, stop! This isn’t you!”

Her next blow sent the sword flying from his hands and she kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him to the ground at her feet. She leveled her blade at him, the tip of it hovering just above his face.

“I thought this is all we were to you? Monsters to hunt for sport.”

“I never-”

“A dead dragon and a dead elf all in one day.” she mocked. “Everything’s coming up Soren.”

“I’m sorry.” he told her, desperation entering his voice. “I was wrong.”

“You bet you were.” Rayla snarled, eyes flashing with cold anger. “And now you’ll pay the price. Justice will not be denied.”

She raised her blade, and Soren looked away, squeezing his eyes shut. But not before he saw that every fallen guard around him had Corvus’ face.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Soren had stopped breathing. Why had he stopped breathing?

Corvus’ own breath quickened, as though to point out just how much Soren’s wasn’t. His voice climbed in pitch as he turned to the others, all of them already exchanging worried glances even before he told them.

“Soren isn’t breathing.” he said, panicked. “What do we do? Does anybody know what to do?”

Claudia was sobbing quietly, her hair falling in curtains around her face as she clung to her brother’s body. Corvus heard Rayla’s sharp intake of breath, another stab in the gut of what precisely Soren wasn’t doing. And Ezran buried his face in Callum’s shirt, shoulders shaking. His older brother’s stunned expression slowly gave way to horror.

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Corvus nearly shouted, clutching Soren’s hand so tightly that he worried he might hurt him. “We need to do something.”

“There’s nothing we can do.” Claudia sniffled, rubbing the tears from her eyes. They just as quickly refilled. “There’s nothing we can do. No spell to fix this.”

“Then we don’t use a spell.” Corvus said, placing a hand on Soren’s neck, feeling for a pulse. It was still there. Faint, but present. “I’m not giving up on him.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Come on, Sorbear. Wake up.”

Soren’s eyes snapped open, and the light above him flickering into life, illuminating a small swatch of the empty blackness that stretched all around him. He was back where it had all begun; the path of footprints stretching behind and before him. Claudia was leaning over him, her face still scarred with Dark Magic, but she didn’t seem angry anymore. She offered him a hand and he took it, letting her help him to his feet.

“Why am I back here?” he asked her, surveying his surroundings. Rayla was nowhere to be seen. None of them were. It was just as blank and empty as the first time he’d set foot here.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Of course I’m worried about it.” Soren said, snapping a bit more than he’d meant to. He checked his tone back immediately. “Sorry.”

“Hm, well. It’s okay I guess. I’ve decided to forgive you. Everybody makes mistakes. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I fixed it. Come on, Dad is waiting for us.”

Soren could have laughed, or he could have cried, he didn’t know which would have happened first. Maybe both. But he was too tired for either.

“Clauds-” he began, but she shook her head, stamping her foot like she used to when she was little.

“Stop it! I fixed everything. You’re okay now, and he’s okay too. That’s all that matters.” She took his hand in hers, gentler this time. “Now come on. He’s waiting for us.”

Soren let her start leading him down the path, following in their father’s footsteps. At first it was kind of nice, listening to her talk about what they were going to do when they finally reached Dad. She said that they would all be together again; one big happy family the way they used to be. She said that she would make pancakes, and Dad had a surprise for them. She said he wanted to make up for lost time; that he was different now. That he’d changed. And Soren wanted to believe her, he really did. And when he’d seen his father in the dungeon, he had seemed different, even if believing that had felt dangerous.

So he followed her, and he ignored the fact that she was leading him deeper and deeper into the darkness, and he didn’t think about the fact that the light around them was growing smaller, fainter. But after a while, he couldn’t ignore the fact that they weren’t alone anymore.

He didn’t know when the other person had started following them, and hadn't looked back to see who it was. Soren didn’t really want to know; it could have been anyone or anything. But whatever next torment this place had dreamed up, Soren figured the longer he could go without having to face it, the better.

But now it was beside them, keeping pace with them just out of view in the darkness. He felt like he recognized the silhouette, the stride, the way the figure carried itself. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen it before. Not until it strayed a little too close to the light.

Soren dropped Claudia’s hand, coming to a standstill. The figure kept on walking, going past them and continuing into the dark, and Soren watched himself march past. His blonde hair was streaked with white, his skin a chalky whitish gray, marred by violet scars. Whereas Soren usually wore a sword, the other him held a staff, one that was far too familiar.

Soren closed his eyes and waited for the apparition to pass.

“Sorbear, what’s wrong?” Claudia asked him after a long moment of silence.

“You- you saw that, right?” he asked her, sure that if he opened his eyes it would still be there. Maybe it would be looking right at him with its pitch black eyes and twisted sneer, just like the one his father used to wear.

“Soren, you’re not really scared of your own shadow, are you?”

He opened his eyes at that. “That thing isn’t a shadow, Claudia.”

“Sure it is. Well, maybe more like you’re his shadow. And don’t call yourself a thing.”

“That wasn’t me.” Soren said, putting extra emphasis on each word, as though that would make it true. “It wasn’t.”

“I mean, not yet he’s not.” Claudia held out a hand to him, smile gentle. “Come on, Sorbear. Dad is waiting.”

“No.” Soren flinched away from her, fists clenching at his sides. “I’m not going if that’s who I’ll be when I get there.”

“Sor-en.” she complained, rolling her eyes. “Come on. It was always going to be this way. This is your destiny.”

“No.” Soren said again, taking a step back from her. The light moved with him, leaving her half in shadow. “No. That’s not who I want to be.”

“But it’s who you are.” Claudia insisted. When he still hesitated, her face scrunched up, tears filling her eyes. “Come on, Sorbear. Please. It’ll be okay, I’ll be there with you. We both will. Don’t leave me again.”

“Come with me.” he begged, reaching out to her. But this time it was Claudia who took a step back, disappearing into the darkness.

“I- I can’t.” she whispered, her voice seeming to come from all around him. “This is our destiny…"

“It’s not my destiny.” he told the darkness, searching it desperately for his sister. “And it doesn’t have to be yours. Please, let me help you.”

“I made my choice.” the darkness told him, and he knew without having to see it that she was gone. Soren squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears away, and he turned to walk back the way he’d come; forging his own path through the endless black. We all have choices to make, he thought. This is mine.

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