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The arrow flew loose.
Despite the impossibly strong gusts of air generated by the flap of the archdragons, the cackling of Aaravos, the splitting and cracking of stone, her racing pulse in her ears–
She can still hear the shrill whistle of the arrow.
“Okay, Rayla, listen closely,” Runaan instructed as he knelt down beside her, “You want to keep a tight grip here.”
He brings a hand up to fix her grip on the riser, then moves his other hand to help notch the arrow on the string, “And hold the arrow between your fingers like this.”
She nods minutely, scared that even the slightest of movements will ruin everything.
Silence settles over the clearing, where a lone rabbit nips and prods at the grass. A memory dregs up of seeing Runaan shoot down an escaping deer. The sound the deer made as it went down haunted her and made her sick to her stomach. When they ate it that very same night, she wondered if the deer was scared.
Her hands shook as she slowly tilted the bow downward. The rabbit was still a distance away but positioned as they were above the fallen log, the bow did not need much height to reach its target.
A hand settled on her shoulder as Runaan whispered in her ear, “Take a deep breath, young one. Find your balance within you. Welcome your prey into your heart so that they do not fear death. Your first kill is your most important.”
His words sent a calming wave through her, like being tucked into bed or watching the rain pitterpatterplop from the window.
Sucking in a breath, she focused, closing her left eye to settle her prey in her sight.
“Relax your shoulders,” Runaan reminded.
“Shut up,” she whispers back, trying to settle back into her center.
A breathless huff of laughter escaped him as he backed off, and she brushed her index finger against the arrow bristles.
She exhales slowly.
The arrow releases.
Her ears can barely catch the whistle of the arrow before it lands with a thud–
In the dirt next to the rabbit.
Their prey darts off into the thicker foliage at the disturbance and Rayla roughly swings down her bow, huffing out a breath in anger.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’ll have another chance–” Runaan begins to reassure but his words send a bolt of shame through her. Quickly she morphs and molds that shame into anger.
“I didn’t miss!” she hisses out, but it comes out petulant. She wanted to stomp the stupid bow into the ground but figured it wouldn’t help her case.
“Rayla, I don’t judge you. You’re new to this–” Runaan threw his hands up placatingly.
“No! I didn’t miss. I purposely didn’t shoot the rabbit!” She admits in a rush, the shame returning fully. She drops her gaze to the ground and feels her eyes begin to burn.
Runaan pauses, his concerned expression melting to confusion, “You purposely missed the shot?”
“Yes. I just–I couldn’t kill the poor creature,” she wipes a hand beneath her nose, raising her gaze back up to him.
“Oh, Rayla,” Runaan begins, his expression one of soft understanding and deep, painful sorrow. “That’s okay, baby, you don’t have to kill them now.”
She nods, but his words send another bolt of shame through her. She’s just a disappointment. She can’t even kill a rabbit, how is she going to be an assassin?
Runaan must see the expression on her face because he kneels back down and places both hands on her shoulders, “Don’t feel ashamed for having a kind heart, Rayla. That is a gift some kill for.”
She nods more resolutely this time, clenching her bow in her grasp, “But I want to be like you! How can I be like you if I can’t even kill a tiny little creature!”
“I understand how you feel, sweetheart. It’s not easy to take a life, and it shouldn’t be. Respect for these creatures is the most important part of hunting. What we’re doing isn’t just about the hunt—it’s about providing, connecting with nature, and honoring the balance of life. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for, but I’m here to guide you if you ever want to learn,” Runaan brings his forehead to hers, and they close their eyes, basking in the silence of the clearing.
The arrow lands with a meaty thud.
My heart–
Above the cacophony of noise that arose, Rayla could hear the choked, surprised gasp of pain.
It will haunt her for the rest of her life.
A whooshing sound cuts through the air as Aaravos is sucked into the coin, his expression frozen in a snarl. The coin drops from outstretched fingers, where it rolls and rolls in circles until it pitches off the ledge of the tower.
My heart–
The arrow has landed in the center of his back, and she is surprised she didn’t sever his spine as he turns, slowly, impossibly slowly–
His eyes are swallowed with black and a lock of his gorgeous, soft– fingers weave through his hair, playing with the ends and twirling them around her finger –brown hair has turned white.
His legs are shaking, Rayla notices distantly, clinically, like a neutral observer, outside her body.
He makes a trembling, keening sound as he takes a step forward and promptly collapses face forward.
My heart–
The movement launches Rayla forward, down the dais to the ledge, and she doesn’t think she’s ever moved this fast in her life (she doesn’t think she’s ever run slower).
When she finally reaches him, she can’t even tell if he’s breathing. The arrow shaft sticks out from his back crudely and blood sluggishly escapes from the edges of the shaft. Snapping the arrow closest to the skin, she flips him back over, laying him down in her lap.
Her breath gets caught in her throat.
No.
His green eyes stare distantly up at her, hazy with pain. Rivulets of blood stream from his nose to trail into his hair.
“R-Ray–” Callum tries to speak, but the words get caught by a deep, wet, hacking cough. She can feel droplets of liquid land on her face but one hand presses solidly to the wound on his back while the other presses a hand against his cheek to keep his head from lolling.
She can clearly see the deep red blood on his pale face, trailing from his mouth and splattering all over his face like some sick painting.
Oh gods.
My heart–
“Callum,” she whispers, her voice cracking in the middle, “ Callum .”
She thinks tears are streaming down her face, and she might have been mortified but if there was ever a time to cry, it feels like now is the best time.
A tear leaks from the corner of Callum’s eye to trail down, catching on her fingers.
“I’m so sorry, Callum,” she chokes out, a sob rising in her throat.
Callum shakes his head, I don’t blame you .
A sob shakes her very core and she clenches her eyes as more tears pour out. It feels like her heart is being squeezed out of her chest.
Callum gasps a wet, wretched thing, and weakly grasps onto her hand, pulling away from his face and towards his chest, pulling her closer.
“R-Rayla. Ez’r’n. T’ll? S’rry?” Callum gasps out, his words slurring together.
Her heart squeezes a little tighter.
My heart–
“Yes. Yes–Just hold on, he should be here any minute, okay?” She says, gripping onto his hand a little tighter like she could hold him together if she just tried hard enough.
Callum shakes his head again, a small smile adorning his bloodied lips.
Reality hits her then.
Oh, gods, I’m losing him.
Her first kill, her love.
The thought sends bile racing up her throat and she has to physically gulp down the grief that overwhelms her. She’s losing him. She’s losing him .
She’s killed him.
My heart–
Surely, this will ruin her. There is nothing good in her except Callum. And he’s taking it all with him and oh, gods, she’s killed him .
She wishes desperately that it wasn’t her that had to have done this. That she could have mourned and grieved and lost herself to this loss without the overwhelming, all encompassing guilt that she is the reason behind all of it. She wishes that they could have started the family they had talked about. She wishes–She wishes–
Gods, her family was just complete and now she’s losing them again?
My heart–
Callum’s breaths turn into wet, gurgling rasps and his hand clenches tightly in her grip. His eyes roll around, unseeing as a wave of pain rushes through him.
“No. No, no, no. Eyes up, Callum, come back to me,” she orders, her voice wobbling.
She can hear wing beats draw closer to them, “Callum! Stay with me! Ezran’s almost here! Just hold on!”
Callum’s back lifts off the ground as his breath hitches and his eyes roll into the back of his head.
“No! No , Callum, please !” she begs, gripping his hand just as fiercely, pressing her head to his forehead, “Please.”
My heart–
A thud of boots alerts her to Ezran’s arrival, and the young king quickly rushes over to them.
He gasps, looking down at his brother with horror in his eyes, “No.”
Callum’s hand begins to loosen in her grasp and Rayla feels true panic swell within her, “Callum! Stay !”
Ezran falls to his knees beside Callum, his hands hovering over his dying brother’s body. The young boy seems shocked, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Tears are welling up in his eyes.
Callum’s body is slowly starting to relax, small twitches dancing through his limbs, his body’s last cry against death.
My heart–
“Callum–” Ezran whispers, his voice cutting off with a cry.
Green eyes poke out from beneath half-lidded eyelids and roll towards Ezran. The corner of Callum’s mouth twitches and a breathy sigh escapes him.
“Ez’r’n,” Callum whispers, the word clogged and thick with the blood in his throat.
“Callum!” the boy cries, wrapping his hands around Callum’s hand, still lodged in Rayla’s grasp. “Callum, I’m s–”
Rayla is confused for a moment why Ezran cut himself off, and why his face took on an expression of horror, but she knew.
My heart–
Her heart clenches and her soul feels like it is ripped in two. There is no time or gravity or air here, at this moment. There cannot be because there is no Callum.
His hand goes limp and his body just sort of– falls .
No.
No.
His head lolls to the side and she can see how his bright– forest green eyes peer at her from beneath a hand, the sun hitting his irises just right so that they sparkle with their hidden golden hues –eyes have dulled to a tepid grey.
“No. Callum–” Rayla starts, her heart climbing into her throat.
“NO!” Ezran keens, folding on top of Callum’s body, blanketing the mage as the young king sobs with his entire body, forceful and all-consuming.
I love you, my heart, she can hear, whispered from a distant dream.
“I love you,” she wails .
My heart–
For Xadia.
They bury him in the forest.
Rayla plants forget-me-nots above his grave every month.
They die every time.