#sbcw 2.0

[self-spaghettification]

SBCW 2 Day 1: Pieces

And just like that, the mirror fell to pieces, an ear splitting cacophony of glass shards ringing out.

…Audible even in the dizzy rush of the switch of consciousness.

It was over, and everyone was satisfied enough with his stuttered reassurances of wellbeing to leave him alone for now.

Callum crouched down to examine a shard, seeing his own face in the reflections, broken and distorted and …wrong. Like the way Callum felt after he had regained control of his own body- strangely disconnected from his own limbs, his own vocal cords- I have no voice, yet I must scream.

Rayla and Ezran and Soren all looked at him differently after that too, concerned, but afraid. He couldn’t blame them, either. He wished he could just tell them he’d never say any of that to them, that it wasn’t true, but it wouldn’t matter.

It wasn’t fair. He had spent so long chasing magic, chasing freedom, and after all the hard choices and refusal…and with everything with Rayla it felt like magic was the only constant that had been there for him and now…

He had no idea what to do now. He had no idea how to contact Aaravos, how to get him out of his head, if he would come back at any moment. Breathe, just breathe, Callum. It’ll be ok.

How much longer could he keep telling himself that?

This mirror was supposed to be something key.

The key… Harrow had given it to him. He was destined for magic.

That was supposed to be a good thing. He could help people. He was a mage. But now… the words just felt sour and sick.

He would never even know the primal sources well if not for Aaravos’s key. This whole time he had been pursuing magic from someone who would do… this?

He was useless…powerless…even more so than when… when he wasn’t good at anything. For a moment, part of him wished he had never picked up that primal stone. Was it better to be good at nothing at all than to be destined for evil? He honestly… didn’t know.

No, no. Bad thought. If he could just…. Avoid dark magic, that should be enough, right?

The thought felt hollow after this, like Aaravos had taken it from him too.

He blinked tight, and seared in his eyes was the way it felt for foreign magic to be forced through them, for them to shine as his body was brought to a bow. Haunting even his eyes at rest, he forced them open once again.

He picked up a shard, holding it tight in his hand, catching his likeness in the now hollowed glass. Despite everything, it was still…him.

A broken reflection, how more fitting could it be? He thought he had known who he was, had finally started to heal and then just… there she was.

Only with this, it’s not like he could just pick up the pieces and try again. It had seemed so solid and yet…One petty flourish and the mirror had fallen to pieces. What last tap would it take for Callum to break?

Rivulets ran crimson down his wrist, absentminded and unwittingly holding a broken piece so tight it hurt him, and yet… he just couldn’t let go.

There was no second guessing it. He couldn’t let this happen to him again. Whatever it took, he refused to let himself be someone he couldn’t. To lose control like that again. He looked away, but the question had already slithered in— Just what exactly would it take?

—

Thanks 2 @parroset for beta/feedback bc I was convinced this was garbage but maybe it is. Decent? anyway I have barely any experience writing Callum so we learn as we go fr🙏

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Hyping up for SBCW because it starts a week from tomorrow!

Spoilers, meaning the prompt(s) I've chosen, respective chapter titles, and a sentence, for my writing ahead; you've been warned!

~~~

When Does A Man Become A Monster?

May 12th

Prince/Choices

"I Am Your Darkest Moment"

"Callum forced himself up, grabbed his staff and slung his bag over his shoulder, and dropped the coin through the grate in the cell floor."

~

May 13th

Snakes/Power

"How Much Longer 'Til the Snake Breaks Free?"

"It was scarier still how high he'd let the [death] counts rise given the circumstances of a situation."

~

May 14th

High Mage/But Rayla Was In Trouble/Mirrors/Magic

"I'll Become the Monster, Like None They've Ever Known"

"So it was fine, even if he didn’t look in mirrors anymore, even if cleaning out Viren’s old office was suddenly easier, even if visiting dignitaries wouldn’t speak to him, even if his in-laws (well, really just Runaan) hated him even more now."

~

May 15th

As the Ocean is Deep

"Brace For a Storm, the Likes of Which We’ve Never Seen Before"

"But the ocean was perhaps the best place for secrets; deep, dark, and once something was lost down there, it was never coming back."

~

May 16th

Ruthlessness

"Close Your Heart, the World is Dark and Ruthlessness is Mercy"

"The years of fighting, wars waged and damage done, and even all the years of unraveled friendship came down to… this."

~

May 17th

You Mean Everything To Me

"I’d Rather Bleed For You, Down On My Knees For You"

"'Sometimes, there’s no choice but to perpetuate the cycle.'"

~

May 18th

N/A (yet); I'm stumped, y'all.

* 5/7/24 update: Writer's block has broken! But these are all going to be very tentative, not cemented yet; just something to keep in mind!

* Darkness/Light

* "The Blood On Your Hands Is Something You Won’t Lose… All You Can Choose Is Whose"

* "The stupid list that had been mental, because ironically, knowing everyone who had hurt her brought some kind of sick, twisted comfort, but Callum had apparently been keeping track of all the names in red underline."

[raayllum]

Hi! So, I was wondering if the "/" in the SBCW 2.0 meant choose one prompt, or incorporate both? Or is either of the above optional? Sorry, I missed the last one and don't want to skip this one!

No worries!! (Also feel free to use the previous prompts as well if something there calls to you!) Very excited to see what you make and I'm so glad you're getting involved this time, the last one was probs my favourite fandom event I've participated in <3

The " / " is just meant to indicate days with multiple prompts. You can pick one if you want for that day, or incorporate both, or neither (late stuff is always accepted, I say, posting my remaining prompt stuff like 6+ months later). Just gives people a little more variety for what they can be inspired by or want to explore further!

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 6: You Mean Everything To Me

I’d Rather Bleed For You, Down On My Knees For You

“Are you ready?” Rayla asked, poking her head through the door adjoining her and Callum's rooms.

No. No, he was not.

But this way, Ezran was safe, and they’d be one step closer to freeing Rayla's parents and getting rid of Aaravos for good. And Callum was spared the pain of saying goodbye to his brother's face, trying to forget the pain hidden under his so carefully crafted mask, worrying that he'd lose the last of his family.

That, and… Ezran wouldn't approve. He'd want Rayla to be happy, and Callum knew he wanted Rayla's parents freed just as much as she did. But her parents being free and their father's murderer being free were two entirely different things both Callum and Ezran tried to avoid thinking about.

Even a soul as pure and good as Ezran could only be generous and understanding for so long. If it came down to choosing between Ezran, his king, little brother, the last of his family, and Rayla, the one who'd introduced him to feeling alive, who he’d do anything for… there was no correct choice. Callum could only choose wrongly.

So take away the choice altogether, even though it sure did feel an awful lot like choosing.

“No,” Callum admitted.

Rayla glanced down, slipping through the door and taking his hand. “We've got a few hours until dawn. You can fly and I'm fast”–bold of her to assume Callum would let her walk, or even leap through the treetops while he flew abovehead–“so if you want to write a… a note, or something, I can wait here for you. Or we can not go. Or I can-”

Callum cut her off before she could continue, already knowing what she'd say. Some kind of group of theirs would travel to the Starscraper no matter what happened, and since it was unavoidable, it was best to keep as many people safe as possible.

Rayla would never be talked out of going, and there would not be a repeat of two years ago. Callum was going with her, end of discussion. Ezran would remain here, safe as could be under Soren and the Crownguards’ vigilant surveillance, left behind without a chance of a fight where Callum’s temper would inevitably get the best of him and he'd say something he'd regret that a million Jerkface Dances could never make up for. 

“I just need a second. I just… gods, I need to get a grip.” He rubbed the bridge between his nose and forehead.

Rayla nodded, understanding all too well the conflicting feelings running through him at a mile a minute. “Take your time. But not too much, because we're in a time crunch. But not too little, because I don’t want to rush you. Take a safe amount of time.”

Callum smiled softly at her, brushing his lips to her cheek. “I'll be right back.”

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[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 3: High Mage/But Rayla Was In Trouble/Mirrors/Magic

(heads up, possible TW for pregnancy complications; I know they can hit close to home, and better safe than sorry!)

I'll Become the Monster, Like None They've Ever Known

Silence was not a good thing. Silence meant grasping for words, words to soften the blow. Or, worse, a kind lie.

“Well?” Rayla prompted, and Xan finally moved away from her stomach.

He straightened his glasses, slowly writing and checking off boxes on his clipboard he not-so-subtly held out of the couple’s view. “I…”

Out of nerves, Callum squeezed Rayla’s hand so hard that she hissed. Immediately loosening his grip, he murmured an apology before turning his attention to the doctor. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Your baby…” Xan began, and now he wouldn’t look at them, and that was not a good sign. “Well, they’re malpresented. That means the fetus isn’t correctly positioned. In this case, your child’s head is at the top of the womb, near the heart, rather than near the birth canal.”

“What does that mean?” Rayla asked nervously, glancing to Callum as he felt her heart rate speed up. “Can it be fixed?”

“Well, no,” Xan said. “There are chances of both the mother and child surviving the birth, but those are rare. The chances of one of you surviving rather than the other is about 50/50, given that most result in the death of both.”

Rayla leaned back against the chair, somehow paling even more as she let herself go limp onto Callum. He put an arm around her and rubbed slow circles into her back.

Xan wasn’t done. “However, your pregnancy is also ectopic.”

Callum sharply looked up at him as Rayla buried her face in his shoulder. “And what does that mean?”

“It means your child can’t be carried to term because it is growing outside of the uterus. To be frank with you, I’m shocked you haven’t come to me with concerns of, at the very least, extreme discomfort.”

Rayla… even all these years later, she still didn’t complain when she was mildly uncomfortable, or even in debilitating pain. She still never wanted to burden anyone, and now it could cost her her life.

He shot to his feet. “And why didn’t you tell us sooner?!”

“An ectopic pregnancy can be diagnosed anywhere from the first trimester to quite literally during labor. And malpresentation usually shows up at thirty-six weeks pregnant on average. We actually got quite lucky, finding it as early as we did.”

“You call this lucky?” Callum spat, pacing now as his voice came out strangled. “My wife and child are both going to die!”

“Well… not necessarily…”

Rayla tugged his hand, and he sat back down, tucking her further into him. “What are the survival odds?” he asked in a low voice. “For either of them?”

Xan took off his glasses and wiped them off with the hem of his shirt before repositioning them on his face. “Near zero for even one of them surviving. I think it’s safe to assume both Princess Rayla and your child will die if the birth continues as planned.”

Rayla threw her arms around his neck, her sobbing loud and clear despite being muffled by his shoulder. His shirt was quickly soaked, Callum pulling her into his side and rubbing her shoulder.

Still, he had to ask. “And if the birth doesn’t continue as planned?”

“Well, if we act now, one of them can be saved. We can perform a surgery to remove the child, and your wife’s chances of survival will skyrocket; I can near assure you she will live and be just fine in due time. Or, given how far healthcare has come due to the use of magic, we can force the birth and an Earthblood and Sunfire elf can heal the child and give them the nutrients and growth needed to simulate a normal pregnancy, an incubation if you will, to keep them healthy until labor would be induced in normal time. But Princess Rayla will not live.”

Callum let those words sink in. Rayla or their child, probably both, would die if a decision wasn’t made at this very moment. It didn’t feel real. It felt like a nightmare, a cold dread wrapping around him, like a cruel trick because the universe could never get enough of fucking around with his and Rayla’s lives. It’d been difficult enough to conceive, only able to do it at all because of magic, and now this? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair.

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[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 4: As the Ocean Is Deep

Brace For a Storm, the Likes of Which We’ve Never Seen Before

Since he was a little boy, Callum knew that the ocean was full of terrible things.

Monsters that would chomp up Bait for a light afternoon snack, teeth the size of his house with fins spanning miles, the thought of which had kept him from sleep on more than one occasion. Scary-looking fish that were regular sized, but their teeth were too pointy, scales an odd color, and eyes mean-spirited. It wasn’t just the living things that could be deadly; buildups of rocks, changes in the wind, even clumps of trash people carelessly disposed of.

But the ocean was perhaps the best place for secrets; deep, dark, and once something was lost down there, it was never coming back.

His father was the first thing Callum could remember being on his list of things lost to the depths. His trading ship sunk just a week from Katolis’ ports in a storm that stretched all the way to the mainland, bringing hurricanes and wreaking destruction. His mother had sobbed into that very same endless expanse of water, Amaya holding her as she fell apart while Callum had barely been old enough to realize that someone was even missing. He hadn’t understood that the watery depths below weren’t something one could come back from, and he’d dropped letters to the man asking when he’d be back into the water, thinking that the dissolving parchment was magic ensuring his painstakingly careful writing would make its way to the dead.

He’d even started a mental list in his hysteria over the two years Rayla had been gone: Prince High Mage Weird-Ass Rando Callum’s List of Things That Are Never Coming Back from the Ocean and So He Should Stop Acting like a Little Kid Living In Delusion and Get Over. Not one of his proudest moments, though definitely one that would earn him an enrollment in a mental asylum if anyone found out.

But in an odd way, keeping track of the things he’d lost had been helpful. Gave him some perspective. Maybe he could look at it and think, “okay, this is as bad as it gets. It can only go uphill from here,” only to be proven completely, utterly, flat-out wrong. There was always something to lose.

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[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 7: Darkness/Light

The Blood On Your Hands Is Something You Won’t Lose… All You Can Choose Is Whose

Callum came home from another one of his quests tonight. A quest that no one had asked him to go on, one he’d selected for himself, steely-eyed in the dead of night with murderous rage making his arms shudder. Quests he chose to go on instead of being here with her, Rayla thought every night he was away, bitterness coating her mouth.

She wasn’t stupid, and had dealt with enough of her own shit to know that this was his method of coping. Coping with his utter helplessness against Aaravos even with all the magic tucked under his belt, coping with everything he’d done in the name of peace, in the name of love. Rayla would’ve once said that murder wasn’t something done lovingly, but now… Now, she was grown up and things weren’t black-and-white; she saw things for the gray they'd always been. She couldn’t very well judge someone, much less the love of her life, for something she’d done, too.

He didn’t want her to see him this way, just as Rayla hadn’t wanted him to see her at her worst. It gave her a whole new appreciation for what she’d put him through that night in the Midnight Desert, and especially for those two long years.

The two years that led them here, with Callum scarcely ever home, and when he was, he just wasn’t the same. Not really here. His eyes were no longer innocent and hopeful for the way the world could be, now just crushed under its weight.

The last time she’d seen him hopeful was their wedding, his hands still shaking from the weight of the Nova Blade and blood–Aaravos’s blood–staining his hands, even as he took hers in his own and promised that he���d love and stand by her long after death separated them. They hadn’t been able to wait a second, because bad things happened one after the other in quick succession like a storm rolling in. New Aurea's Queen Janai had officiated, because she was the closest available person who was legally allowed to, on account of her being a queen.

Every time Callum came back, Rayla was reminded of that day he’d come back in the pouring rain, Zym tucked into his arms after trying to get them struck by lightning, of all things. Hopeless, regretful, and so tired.

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[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Snake Boi Callum Week - Day 5: Ruthlessness

(another tw, this time for discussed death penalty, though it is not described, nor does it occur during the story. Please prioritize mental health, you guys; click away if you think this will be harmful🫂)

Close Your Heart, the World is Dark and Ruthlessness is Mercy

Callum was not a kid anymore. He was many things, and a child was no longer one of them. He was a grown man with grown man decisions to make.

Some things stayed the same from when he was a kid, even all these years later; he loved to draw, he had one hell of a temper, and he was madly in love with Rayla. But some things were different; he was no longer a gangly, helpless kid. Gangly, yes, but helpless, never. He was a mage now, Ezran’s most trusted advisor. And he didn’t trust so easily. He couldn’t afford to wear his heart on his sleeve anymore, not in this twisted world of politics where everyone backstabbed everyone and they all seemed to have some ulterior motive.

So he hid his heart. Only let it out around Rayla and Ez, sometimes Soren and Corvus. His heart couldn’t be making decisions anymore; only his head.

He’d led with his heart a week ago today, following it down to the dungeons and to the dark cell Claudia sat in, scooched into a corner. Ezran had protested the conditions, but there needed to be minimal ingredients for Dark Magic, and this was the least dangerous for both the world and Claudia, what with what Dark Magic would do to her.

She’d barely glanced up, shattered eyes once a beautiful green gone abyss-empty. Callum had tried to be nice, he really did. At least that’s what he told himself. Tried to rationalize that wouldn’t he have done the same if he’d been in her position? Tried to give her a chance to explain anything, even tried to offer help in her upcoming trial.

And she’d snapped. Hurtled up and clutched at the cell bars, all she could do to not fall over because of her missing leg, and broken down as she screamed every vile word Callum knew and tenfold.

Callum had snapped, too. Screamed right back that he’d loved her, screamed that she was a monster and a million other things he’d never dare repeat in Ezran’s presence that now kept him up at night.

And now here they were.

Claudia sat in front of them, blankly staring off into the distance and hands cuffed in her lap. Her appointed lawyer that Callum couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of paced as he spoke, appealing for a more mitigated sentence by arguing that she wasn’t in a right state of mind and couldn’t be held responsible for everything because it was unclear when the episode had started. It was a dim buzzing in his ears.

Maybe it wasn’t an episode, Callum thought. Maybe she’d always been a psychopath. Maybe she’d been manipulating everyone from the very beginning, taking advantage of his and Ez’s naivete.

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[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Fic writer asks 4?? :pp

Ughhhh I can't choose!! So have one of my favorite funny lines and a favorite deep and emotional line:

“I’ll do better.”

“That wasn’t the question. The question was are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Gren.”

“You don’t have to be.”

[From say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair]

~

“Yes, yes, I know. Pregnancy complications. We always talk about the plague and such things and how they’re deadly, but never pregnancy. It's so romanticized. Frankly, I’m surprised so many women choose to have children. They have my respect.”

“Congrats, you’re decent enough to be a feminist."

[From SBCW 2.0, May 14th]