#sunfire stone?
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X-Men '92: House of XCII #4 (2022)
written by Steve Foxe
art by Salva Espin & Israel Silva
#jean grey#cyclops#polaris#rogue#marvel#feral#sunfire#random#scott summers#lorna dane#anna marie#shiro yoshida#maria callasantos#marshall stone iii#wednesday spoilers#spoilers#comic spoilers
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Blood and Cheese does not happen. Instead, Daemon plots with his connections to kidnap Aegon’s most prized possession: his wife. They ask Agon and the Greens to give up the throne and she will be returned. Aegon is furious
Requests for HotD are opened again! I have a few in the work already, so make sure you are on the taglist to be notified when I post them <3
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
—
The guards standing on each side of the small council chamber bowed their heads at their king. Aegon hated these meetings, finding them lengthy and uninteresting, but now that he wore the crown, he couldn't escape them.
He pushed the large door open and stepped in. Inside, one person sat at the table: his mother. Beside her, a man in armor stood. Their hushed conversation ceased as he arrived.
Alicent glanced at her son with a somber expression. ‘’Please have a seat,’’ she beckoned.
Aegon furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Where is everyone else?’’
‘’Council meeting is canceled today,’’ she informed him gravely. ‘’We have more urgent matters to discuss.’’
Seating himself at the table's head, Aegon braced himself for what was to come. The tension in the chamber was palpable, and he knew something serious had happened.
Alicent hesitated for a moment, her eyes betraying the weight of the news she carried. ‘’There's been an incident,’’ she began, her voice strained. ‘’Before I explain further, I need you to stay calm.’’ Her eyes held Aegon’s, waiting for a silent promise before pursuing. ‘’We all know that Daemon still has connections in the city. Some of his men breached our defenses and infiltrated the castle and she…she was taken by the Blacks.’’
Aegon laughed dryly. This had to be a joke.
But he found no sign of jest in his mother’s solemn expression.
The king turned to the lord commander standing to her left. ‘’Where is my wife, Ser Criston?’’ he implored, still in disbelief that you had been taken.
Ser Criston's gaze fell to the ground, his silence speaking volumes. ‘’I regret to conform, your grace,’’ he murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. ‘’The queen has been taken.’’
Aegon felt as if the ground had been ripped from beneath him. His wife, his beloved, stolen from him — kidnapped — by the hands of their enemies.
‘’We've received a raven from Dragonstone,’’ Alicent informed, clearing her throat. She forwarded the rolled piece of parchemin to Ser Criston, who handed it to Aegon.
He unrolled the parchemin and read the message: As a result of stealing from the rightful heir, something of yours has been taken. Abandon the throne and she will be returned.
Aegon's jaw clenched so tightly that the parchment in his hand crumpled beneath his grip. His violet eyes filled with wrath as rage spread through his blood.
He rose to his feet, his voice dripping with fury. ‘’Ser Criston, tell the dragonkeepers to get Sunfire out of the dragonpit. I will go to Dragonstone myself and—’’
‘’I’d rather not,’’ Alicent interjected, her tone icy. ‘’Going to Dragonstone is driving yourself to your own death.’’
‘’I will not stand idly by while my wife is held captive by our enemies!" In a surge of anger, Aegon tore the silver crown from his head and flung it to the ground with all the force of his rage, the clang of the Valyrian steel reverberating off the stone walls like a thunderclap.
At his outburst, Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line. ‘’You may leave us, Ser Criston.’’
The lord commander nodded and exited the small council chamber in silence, leaving the king and his mother alone.
‘’You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne?’’ she stated, her tone heavy with implication.
Aegon's frustration boiled over, and he leaned against the back of his chair. He ran his hands through his silver hair, tugging at the roots in a gesture of despair and anguish. ‘’I never asked for that throne!’’ he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion.
All he wanted was his wife back, it was all he needed — you.
During his father’s reign, the castle had never been threatened. Viserys was a peaceful king, one who stayed away from conflicts. Therefore, he never had to worry about the loyalty or competence of his kingsguard.
Now that he had fallen and that a civil war had begun, the safety - and life - of those who lived in the castle was at risk. In the days following Aegon's coronation, all who had refused to swear to him had been beheaded. So, how could this have happened?
‘’I want these men’s heads,’’ he declared, his voice filled with a mixture of vengeance and determination as he straightened. ‘’Plot against the king and I will pay it back a hundred times over.’’
—
House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08 @mymultiveres @secretsthathauntus @puffycreamcakes@thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23@lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas @zgzgh @sssjuico10@tabloidteen@timetoten@deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15@daemonslittlebitch@queenbeestuffs@severewobblerlightdragon@agentstarkid@msliz@vane1999-blog@fairyfolkloresposts@todaywasafairytale07@otomaniac@zgzgzh@thebeardedmoon@golden-library@kikyrizuki@hnslchw@camy85@winxschester
#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#hotd#house of the dragon imagine#aegon ii targaryen imagine
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Sorry but I need to revisit the growth cycle of Wormvaros/Sir Sparklepuff
I know literally no one likes to think about this because it occupies that deeply weird niche where "visceral body horror" and "uncomfortable awareness that someone out there has this fetish" overlap but bear with me.
Back in the post-s3 days, I concluded that Wormvaros grows due to crossing into Xadia where magic is plentiful, basically absorbing magic and funneling it to Aaravos, which is why Aaravos has Viren go after powerful magic sources in the Sunforge and Zym. Then I just kind of never thought about it again.
But that's wasn't even accurate then: Wormvaros starts growing at a very specific point, and that point is somewhere between when Aaravos and Viren discuss visiting Lux Aurea and when the Sunforge is corrupted. Before that, it doesn't grow at all.
When Aaravos is pitching the plan to Trojan Horse into Lux Aurea, Wormvaros is his regular 2-inch or so Hot Topic earcuff size:
Then when it emerges at the Sunforge, it's suddenly like... a solid 2 feet long? I'll spare all of us the disgorgement shot, here it is crawling up Viren's arm for scale:
Now, the timeline of events in this series is... fuzzy, at best, but I don't think it's incorrect to interpret that the entire Lux Aurea business takes place in a single day. At the least, I think the Sunforge corruption and Viren walking back to the camp are the same day. By that point, Wormvaros has already grown into a jaunty scarf. By sometime mid-next day, it has attained its full drag show fabulous feather boa status.
Wormvaros grows exponentially within the 18-24 hours between the Sunforge and the final battle, presumably feeding/having fed on the massive source of corrupted magic that was formerly the Sun nexus. Except that's not quite right, either: Wormvaros has already had its first growth spurt before the Sunforge is corrupted.
Also just to quickly go over this scene in light of s5... Wormvaros bites Pharos, and the corruption then goes from Pharos to the Sun primal stone in the staff, and from there to the Sunforge itself. The artbook, of all places, notes that Pharos (there just "Sunfire High Priest") has a "direct connection to the Sun primal [that] helps him channel the incalculable power of the Sunforge."
The "direct connection to the Sun primal" bit is I think a bit misleading, since that should describe... every Sun primal mage, at minimum. Channeling the power of the Sunforge, however, explains the transmission of the corruption. It's not an accident of proximity that makes Wormvaros go for Pharos, it's that there has to be a transmission vector from Wormvaros to the Sunforge, and it's Pharos's arcanum during this ritual where the Sunforge's power is brought to bear.
But anyway, back to Wormvaros's growth. Viren is also exposed to the power of the Sunforge when he's tested in the throne room, though on a smaller scale. I bet that's when Wormvaros starts to feed.
I still think the magic has to be corrupted to be of use to Aaravos's specific purpose, here: neither the Sunforge nor the staff are diminished, so the power is either being replenished as fast as it's consumed or the corruption was itself the act of consumption. I feel like you could even say that the corruption of Sunforge power also happens in the throne room test ritual, in that whatever power from the Sunforge reaches Wormvaros where it's hiding inside Viren, it could easily have been filtered through and affected by Viren's own corruption.
On the one hand, all of this means that by whatever method Wormvaros... got inside Viren to Trojan Horse into Lux Aurea, it was still comfortably small at the time. On the other hand, it also means Wormvaros grew to like 10x its former size in the space of a few hours, while inside. Which... hhhnnnnnrrggh.
No, don't leave yet. I promise I have an additional point that's not just making everyone exquisitely uncomfortable about mpreg.
Wormvaros goes from a static, growthless state to a period of rapid maturing when exposed to the Sunforge. The Sun primal. The sun. After some time it returns to a similar hibernating state in the chrysalis. And then:
Hmmm.
#i'm actually not actively trying to feed the 'aaravos is a star devourer dragon' theory here but#if it fits i sits#i think there's some big gaps in connecting that with the other stuff we've been told about startouch elves and aaravos#that would need canon to fill them in but that's definitely possible#the dragon prince#aaravos
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Okay now for an actual somewhere coherent breakdown of the clip:
Rayla and Callum are taking a solo trip (presumably to visit the Sunfire elves) as when you look at their camp, there’s two steeds - a shadowpaw and a horse - and just Stella and Bait. No other people are present.
Callum has his staff per usual, and Rayla has a quiver of arrows to match with Runaan’s bow, so we may actually get to see her use it at one point!
Callum is seen sketching again (which he didn’t do in S4) and those include a flower and Stella!
As someone who predicted this exact part of the original “written in the stars” skit this is based on would come back in exactly this kind of symbolic way with Rayllum over a year ago, I am feeling very pleased and very hype!
And like listen the sheer amount of foreshadowing and emphasis here, starting the clip off with a shooting/wishing star, Rayla emphasizing “together” (which doing things alone vs together has always been core to their dynamic) and Aaravos equalling stars, and just like. Come on. Come on
Last but not least we can estimate where this scene falls in the season. It has to be early on, so I’m tentatively labelling 5x02, as they’re also clearly close to the Sunfire elves, as they seem be in the forest by the ruins that Janai proposed to Amaya at.
And given Callum’s response to Rayla showing more affection, it’s clear they’ve probably talked a bit and are on Much better terms (especially since he embraced and is able to actually work on forgiving her, now, rather than just holding onto his anger) but we still know later on in the season they’re going to have conflict (which if they haven’t talked about everything, makes perfect sense tbh).
Then we have the lore drop that like many things, the South Star is defined by duality, as it is also called Leola’s Last Wish. Leola, revealed in the Book One: Novelization (or tales of xadia or both) is the unicorn who gifted humans primal stones and helped teach them draconic. She is likely the unicorn we see on the S4 intro star chart, and unicorns are also one of the few creatures connected to the Star arcanum, which is also associated with wishes. And hmm... what do people in the show wish for??
Harrow: But as a father, I have a selfish wish: for you and Ezran to be free.
Rayla: I wish I could stay.
Callum: I wish I could just forgive her but it - it - it’s so hard.
Aaravos “Tests of love” “To fulfil your wishes of course” looking at Rayllum real meaningfully right now, I think.
#tdp#the dragon prince#tdp spoilers#arc 2#trailer#rayllum#star motif#devil and the lovers#IT'S ALL. COMING TOGETHER.#G O D#im shaking#I DREAMED BUT I NEVER TRULY THOUGHT!!
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My first contribution for @tdp-prism-event-2024
Prompt: Twist - Chaos
The throne room was filled with tension as the chaos outside echoed through the stone walls. Ezran, Callum, Rayla, Opeli, and the council members huddled together along with Soren, Corvus, and the Crownguard, seeking refuge from the unfolding turmoil.
Ezran, showing leadership in the face of crisis, ordered Soren to take a group of the Crownguard to scout the area and provide information.
Callum approached one of the windows overlooking the courtyard where the battle raged. The sight was grim, Katolis guards and elves standing united against a band of Sunfire rebels, but their combined efforts were struggling against the onslaught.
He felt a hand slip into his, gripping it tightly.. He turned to her, meeting the worry in her eyes. His touch was gentle as he cupped her cheek, fingers delicately brushing against the thin braid framing her face.
“Hey, we’ll be fine, alright, love? I won’t let them touch you,” he reassured with a steadiness in his voice.
Rayla leaned into his touch. As she did, she felt the coolness of his wedding band against her skin, a reminder of their connection.
She reached up, grabbing that hand, “Even if it hurts you?”
Pressing his forehead against hers, Callum spoke with determination, “Even if it hurts me, Ray.” He affirmed his commitment to protect her, despite the potential risks.
“I don’t want it to hurt you,” she admitted, her voice fragile.
Smiling thinly, Callum said, “I know, love, but I’ll do anything to protect you,” he assured, tilting his head up to place a comforting kiss on her worried brow, “anything.”
Soren and a few members of the Crownguard burst into the room with urgency etched on their faces.
“They’re almost in the castle,” he informed, his gaze swiftly assessing the room. “I’ll need everyone I can get to secure the door.” He turned to Corvus and the other Crownguard, issuing swift orders, “Guard the door and ensure a safe exit for the others if things go south.”
As the plan unfolded, Soren’s gaze eventually landed on Callum. Rayla felt a knot tighten in her stomach, anticipating what he was about to request.
“High Mage,” Soren addressed Callum, and Rayla gripped Callum’s hand, anxiety coursing through her. “I’ll need you to help me keep them away from the door.”
Rayla’s heart pounded as she looked at Callum.
He turned to her, a solemn expression on his face. “I’ll come back,” he assured her, pressing a reassuring kiss to her lips.
Despite his words, fear lingered in her eyes, and she clung to his hands. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.
He shook his head, determination in his eyes. “I have to, to keep us safe, to keep you safe.” Another quick but firm kiss passed between them, and he pulled back reluctantly. “I’ll return your heart to you, I promise.” With that, he joined Corvus, Soren, and the rest of the Crownguard, leaving Rayla behind in the throne room.
Ezran approached Rayla, offering comfort by holding her hand. “He’ll be okay, I’m sure of it,” he reassured her.
Rayla turned to him, a slight softening in her expression. He was almost as tall as her now, a testament to how much he had grown. She glanced downwards, and he understood the unspoken worry in her eyes.
“I know he will, but–”
“You still worry.” Ezran gently interrupted.
She nodded, and Ezran guided her to sit next to him at the council table. The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the sounds of distant clashes and muffled shouts. Rayla’s eyes kept flickering towards the door, anxious for any sign of Callum’s return.
Ezran spoke softly, “I trust Callum. He’s strong, and he’s got the Crownguard with him. They’ll handle the situation.”
Rayla managed a small nod but couldn’t completely shake off the worry that lingered in her eyes.
Opeli, who had been coordinating with the guards in the room, approached them, her expression grave. “We’re doing everything we can to secure the castle. The guards are ready, and Soren is leading a strong defense at the entrance.”
Rayla offered a grateful but subdued smile.
In the courtyard, chaos ensued as Callum, Soren, and their determined guards fought against the rebel onslaught. Callum’s wind spells whipped through the air, creating a protective barrier, while his Fulminis spells crackled, deterring anyone bold enough to approach. Soren strategically directed his guards, forming a shield around the High Mage as they pushed back against the rebels.
Ezran added, “We trust Callum, and we trust our guards. They’ll protect Katolis.”
—
The clash of weapons, the echoes of magic, and the shouts of warriors blended in a chaotic symphony. Despite the fierce resistance, Callum’s determination and Soren’s strategic prowess began to turn the tide. Slowly but steadily, they pushed the rebels back, forcing them to retreat into the city.
The courtyard, once a battleground, now saw a hard-earned victory. Soren rallied the guards, ensuring they maintained their defensive positions, ready for any potential counterattacks. Callum caught his breath, surveying the aftermath of the skirmish.
“We did it,” Soren exclaimed, a mixture of relief and pride in his voice.
Callum nodded, a weary but satisfied smile crossing his face. “We held them off, but we need to secure the city. Send more guards and protect the villagers.”
Soren saluted, “Right away, High Mage.” The guards dispersed, some helping wounded comrades, others preparing for the next phase of defense.
—
“Where’s Rayla?” he demanded, a tinge of desperation in his voice. Ezran, standing with a worried expression, only made Callum more concerned.
Callum burst into the throne room, Soren trailing closely behind. His eyes darted around frantically, taking in the familiar faces of the remaining Crownguard, council members, Opeli, his brother Ezran, and—
“Where’s Rayla?” He repeated.
Ezran hesitated before responding, “She... she went after you not long ago.”
The revelation hit Callum like a punch to the gut.
“What?” He gripped Ezran’s shoulders, seeking more information.
“I tried to stop her, but she didn’t want to wait any longer,” Ezran explained, his own concern mirroring Callum’s.
Callum released Ezran and strode toward the door, a mixture of determination and desperation in his movements. Soren attempted to reason with him, placing a hand on Callum’s shoulder, but Callum shook it off.
“Hey, you should think about this,” Soren urged, his voice calm and measured.
“I already have,” Callum snapped, his mind consumed by the fear of the unknown.
He left the throne room in a hurry, sprinting down the hall toward the nearest exit. Instinct guided him, leading him to the market, the urgent need to find Rayla driving every step.
Callum reached the market, the distant clash of swords heightening his anxiety. The urgency in his steps mirrored the pounding of his heart as he ran toward the source of the commotion. His eyes darted around the chaotic scene, desperately searching for any sign of Rayla.
The weight of his wedding ring felt heavier on his finger, a constant reminder of the fear gnawing at him. As he maneuvered through the crowded market, the scent of danger thick in the air, his worry deepened.
And then he saw her.
Rayla was in the midst of the skirmish, wielding her Butterfly Blades with grace and precision alongside Katolian soldiers against the rebel Sunfire elves. For a brief moment, Callum couldn’t move, captivated by the sight of her fierce determination, yet simultaneously paralyzed with fear for her safety.
A passing guard jolted him back to reality.
Callum seized the guard’s arm, urgency in his voice as he commanded, “Go get more, we’ll need them.”
The guard nodded and sprinted back toward the castle.
As Callum glanced back, the rebel Sunfire elves unleashed fire spells at the front line of guards, inflicting fatal injuries on some and seriously wounding others. Panic surged through him, especially as Rayla now had even less protection. Time seemed to slow, his mind racing through desperate options. Even if he were to call to her, she wouldn’t make it in time. She would still get the brunt of the fire. She would die.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Callum chanted confidently, “Manus, Pluma, Volantus!” He dove toward Rayla just as the flames glowed, seizing her and sliding on the stone tiles to the area behind nearby crates. The fire singed his jacket, burning his exposed skin. Despite the pain, he held back a scream, his breaths unnaturally shallow.
“Callum?” Rayla’s wide eyes searched his face. He looked up at her, tightening his feathery hold, pressing his forehead to hers.
“I got you, love,” he breathed against her lips, kissing her gently, “I won’t let them hurt you.”
The reinforcements, led by Soren, rushed by them, and the sounds of combat resumed. Callum pulled her even closer, attempting to shield her from the horrors unfolding nearby. Cries of pain echoed from both humans and elves. He tucked her under his chin, her on top of him, wings remaining wrapped around her.
Desperate for reassurance, she grabbed at his shoulders, seeking proof that he was truly there. Her hands reached up to his face, feeling the scratches from the stone.
Gazing up at him, she whispered, “You’re hurt,” her voice breaking.
He shook his head, “Don’t worry, you’re my only concern right now. I’ll be fine.”
Soren found them amidst the chaos, “Hey, we got you covered, time to get out of here,” before rushing back into the fray.
They rose to their feet, but Callum maintained his summoned wings. As they attempted to leave, stray flames penetrated the line. Instinctively, Callum threw his wings around Rayla as they ran, some of his feathers getting singed by the heat.
Rayla noticed, “Callum, your–”
“No time,” he interrupted, holding out his wings and inviting her to grab onto him.
She gripped his shoulders, “But can you still fly?”
In truth, his arms stung and ached, his back engulfed in pain, and he hurt all over from the impact of diving after her.
Despite the discomfort, he flapped his wings, reassuring her, “I can make it home.” With that, he lifted them into the air, soaring away from the danger.
As soon as they landed and found refuge in their room, Callum enveloped Rayla in a tight embrace, his wings dissipating as he held her close.
“I thought you were going to die, Ray,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know, but I didn’t. You saved me, love,” she reassured him.
He chuckled lightly, pulling back to place their foreheads together, “I suppose I did, didn’t I?”
She smiled back, “Yeah, you did,” pressing her lips to his, savoring the connection, grateful that he was here, safe, and alive.
Lingering, she brought her hand to his cheek, feeling the scars on his face. She pulled back immediately, her eyes flicking to the marks etched on his face. She traced a long scratch down his cheek, a pang of concern filling her heart.
“Oh, love,” she whispered, her voice laden with worry, “what did they do to you?” Her gaze moved to his singed jacket, determination in her eyes. “Take it off,” she demanded.
“What?” he asked.
“Your jacket,” she pressed, her urgency evident.
He sighed, undoing the clasps and removing it, wincing at the pain with every movement. Her hands gently took over, pulling it off the rest of the way, and she gasped. Her eyes widened as she observed the extent of the damage.
His chest bore bruising, hues of purple painting a painful picture; burns marked his forearms, biceps, and even his hands; scratches trailed down his neck. When he turned around, the true gravity of the situation revealed itself.
Three angled burn scars adorned his back, a brutal testament to the dangers he faced. The skin around the scars looked grotesque, as if it had partially melted and then solidified again.
And the blood…
Rayla’s breath caught, and the sight of blood intensified her distress. The sight overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t hold back the surge of emotions that threatened to spill over.
Rayla’s eyes misted with a mix of anguish and anger. She reached out, tracing the burn scars, her fingertips trembling.
“Callum,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this.”
He turned to her, and the vulnerability in his eyes mirrored the ache in her heart. “Rayla, I’ll heal, I promise,” he reassured, but she could hear the strain in his voice.
She shook her head, a hint of frustration coloring her expression. “You shouldn’t have to endure this. It’s not fair.”
Callum gently cupped her face, “I did it to keep you safe, Ray. I’d do it a hundred times over.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she tightened her grip on him, a silent acknowledgment of the fierce love and sacrifice he showed.
“Just let me take care of you,” she whispered, before seizing his lips in hers.
They broke the kiss, foreheads leaning against each other. Callum’s hands rested on her waist, grounding himself in her comforting presence.
Rayla took a deep breath, her fingers gently caressing the bruises on his chest. “I hate that you had to do this for me. I hate that you got hurt.”
He sighed, “Rayla, it’s not your fault. We’re in this together. I’d do anything to protect you, and I know you’d do the same for me.”
She nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “I just wish we didn’t have to go through this.”
Callum tilted her chin up, locking eyes with her. “We’ll get through it. Together.” His lips found hers again, a shared promise of strength and unity.
She reluctantly pulled back, kissing the long scar on his face. She left the room briefly to fetch a healing paste for the burns and bruising, accompanied by fresh bandages. Upon her return, she found him gazing at himself in the mirror.
Wincing, he remarked, “Wow, it’s... really that bad, huh?”
Standing together, he held the roll of bandages while she applied the healing paste to his right hand and up his arm. Through the lingering sting of the burns, he gasped lightly but urged her to continue.
She scoffed with a mix of concern and reassurance, “And it was almost worse.”
Having finished applying the healing paste, she was about to reach for the bandages when a question tugged at her concern.
“How did your arms get burned? You had your wings,” she asked.
Guilt flashed across his expression.
“Callum,” she pressed, urging him to explain.
He sighed, admitting, “My wings got burned, and my wings come from my arms so…” He trailed off.
Her eyes widened, a rising concern evident in her voice. “This is what happens?” she asked, her tone edging towards worry.
He nodded in confirmation. She sighed, taking the roll of bandages from him, carefully wrapping it around his hand, then up his arm. As she pressed the bandage to the largest burn scar, he let out a tiny gasp of pain, prompting her to pause.
“Too tight?” she asked. He shook his head, assuring her, “No, it’s okay, keep going.”
She did, then tore the bandage when she was done with his forearm and started on his bicep, finishing quickly before moving to his other arm. As he watched her work, she looked focused, but he saw in her eyes that she was still so scared for him, her worry etched in her brow.
Rayla couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions—relief that he was back safely, anger at the rebels for causing this pain, and a deep, overwhelming love for the man standing before her. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands, focusing on the task.
Once she completed tending to his arms, she transitioned to applying the healing paste on the bruises scattered across his chest. The gravity of the situation intensified when she finally reached the burn scars on his back. A moment of silence enveloped the room as she hesitated, fixating on the morbid sight before her. The severity of the injuries, coupled with the presence of blood, threatened to overwhelm her emotions. In a moment of vulnerability, she had to acknowledge that she was on the verge of breaking down.
He, still facing away, asked, “You okay?”
Trying to conceal her inner turmoil, she took a deep breath and replied, “Yeah.”
Starting with cleaning off the blood with water, she diligently applied the healing paste and then delicately wrapped him with bandages. During the process, her hand brushed against one of the scars, capturing fresh blood on her fingers. The sight of his blood on her hand threatened to overwhelm her, but she pressed on with unwavering determination.
Completing the bandaging, she tore the end of the material and circled around to face him. His smile, a beacon of reassurance, went unnoticed by her.
Raising her hand, she gently traced the scar on his face, her thoughts lingering on the burn scars on his back and arms, the dark bruises concealed beneath the fresh bandages. Despite the visible signs of healing, the haunting image of him bleeding persisted—a stark reminder of what could have been, the brutality inflicted upon him.
Anger welled within her, fueled by the realization of the imminent threat to his life, the attempts to sever him from her.
“Hey,” he cupped her cheek, tenderly wiping away her tears, “I’m right here, okay?”
His bandaged hand against her skin triggered an overwhelming surge of emotions, causing her to crumble. She enveloped him in a desperate embrace, tears streaming down her face as her body succumbed to pitiful sobs.
Concern etched across his widened eyes, he held her close, his arms a sanctuary against the storm of her emotions.
Softly shushing her, he whispered, “Ray, I got you, I’m right here.”
In the midst of her tears, she confessed, “They hurt you. I almost lost you.” Her hand sought his chest, only to encounter the protective layer of bandages, intensifying her anguish.
“Hey, hey, easy, darling, you didn’t lose me,” he gently lifted her head with his hands, planting a reassuring kiss on her forehead before claiming her lips. The kiss was firm yet tender, lingering as a testament to their shared relief. Pulling back, he placed his forehead against hers, whispering, “I’m still here,” his words a soothing promise against her lips.
“They hurt you,” she repeated, no less broken.
Callum held her close, feeling the tremors of her sobs against him.
“I know, love,” he murmured, “they hurt me, but I’m here, I’m okay.” He continued to speak softly, each word an attempt to reassure her. Yet, Rayla couldn’t shake the images of his injuries, the fear of almost losing him. She clung to him, her tears staining his bandages.
“They wanted to kill you,” she choked out between sobs, her voice cracking with the weight of her distress.
Her emotions swirled, and Rayla’s tears seemed endless. “It’s not fair. You don’t deserve this pain.”
Callum’s response was immediate, his fingers gently brushing her hair, “But they didn’t. I’m right here, safe with you.”
Callum’s gaze was unwavering, his thumb wiping away her tears. “Love, I can handle it. What matters is that we’re together.”
She sniffled, a mix of frustration and sorrow evident in her voice, “But you’re hurt because of me, because of us.”
“No, Rayla,” he insisted, “I’d do anything to protect you. This wasn’t your fault.”
“I can’t lose you, Callum,” she whispered, desperate.
He cupped her face, his eyes searching hers, “You won’t. I promise. I love you.”
Her breath hitched, and she tried to speak through her tears, “I love you too, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
He kissed her forehead gently, “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”
Despite his soothing words, it took a while for Rayla’s sobs to subside. Callum remained patient, offering comfort and reassurance, determined to mend the shattered pieces of her heart.
Callum continued to whisper calming words, his hands tracing gentle circles on her back. He felt the tension gradually ebbing away from her, the sobs becoming softer. He pressed another tender kiss to her forehead, letting the warmth of their shared embrace envelop them.
“It’s okay, Ray. I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody. “We’ll get through this together.”
She clung to him, her tears subsiding, but her grip on him remaining firm. The remnants of distress lingered in her eyes, reflecting the turmoil within. Callum could sense her vulnerability, and he held her even closer.
“I hate seeing you hurt,” she confessed, her voice raw with emotion.
He kissed her forehead again, “I know, love. But remember, we’ll heal together.”
She sighed, the weight on her shoulders slowly lifting. Callum gently pulled back to look into her eyes, his fingers softly tracing the lines of her face.
“I’m here, Rayla. Always,” he assured her, the sincerity in his eyes unwavering.
She nodded, a silent acknowledgment.
As they settled into the warmth of their bed, Callum instinctively pulled Rayla closer, his arm enveloping her in a protective embrace. Despite the ache in his arms, he resisted the urge to put on a fresh shirt, yielding to Rayla’s insistence that he not aggravate his injuries.
Rayla nestled into him, seeking solace in his presence. She felt the bandages beneath her hand as it found its place on his chest, a silent reminder of the ordeal they had endured together. Callum’s touch was gentle as he brushed one of her braids behind her ear, his concern palpable.
“Love?” he murmured softly.
Rayla remained silent, her head tucked against his neck, her breaths slow and steady. Her words came as a whisper, barely audible against his skin. “I just want you with me, so I know you’re safe.”
Callum’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He tightened his hold around her, offering the only reassurance he could. “I think I can do that,” he replied softly.
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If there is dark magic, can there also be light?
Dark magic is considered...well dark because it takes ingredients from living beings, but what about things that could be found/freely given?
Example, you want to make a stone to keep travelers warm without a fire. Theoretical ingredients for the theoretical hotstone:
1 - lock of Sunfire Elf hair (retrieved from sunfire barber)
1 - phoenix feather (found after bird molted)
2 - sun stag horns (found after annual shedding)
and so forth... would it still be dark magic? Still evil? Would it still affect the mage's appearance?
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What is deep magic?
good question! i will try my best to answer with the limited knowledge i’ve absorbed by osmosis from reading discussions of interviews from the creators and breakdowns of the trailers and canon adjacent fanfic/fanon explanations
by deep magic i assume you mean proto magic if they’re the same thing?
i’ve heard around that aaravos is supposed to be giving a speech on it in season 5.
probably in this scene?
i’d guess it’s the primal stuff before it differentiated, like a stem cell, which can grow into stomach cell or muscle or bone or nerve or skin. like how everything’s connected. maybe, before there were startouch and tidebound and earthblood and sunfire and moonshadow and skywing elves there were just elves and they just used protomagic.
but also, the sun is a star and the stars are in the sky along with the moon which controls the tide which waters the earth, so it’s all connected, and if the world is one big primal stone full of specific arcanums for connected creatures to draw upon, maybe it’s all just protomagic, but it’s easier to cast spells if they’re associated with a specific source.
like is it even possible to cast a spell that is strictly protomagic and not connected to a certain source?
anyway those are my speculations lolol thanks for the ask anon!
i have a question in return for y’all. as we saw corrupted sun magic but it appeared different than dark magic, is there a corrupted form of each arcanum, and a corrupted form of proto/deep magic? or would that be dark magic itself, non specialized? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#q&a#proto magic#protomagic#the dragon prince#tdp#tdp protomagic#deep magic#idfk#aaravos#primal magic#tdp speculation#thanks for the ask!#i want to theorize with fellow tdp lovers so pls share ur thoughtsss#tdp meta
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For my 501st follower celebration, as requested by @auroramagpie here, no. 85 on the list: a The Dragon Prince Au I started and have no real intentions of finishing. Enjoy what there is of it!
Of all the absolutely ridiculous situations Kanan Jarrus had gotten himself into throughout the years, stuck in the middle of the Midnight Desert with little food or water and no idea how he was going to get out was probably at the top of the list.
He’d had a good enough reason— being chased by Moonshadow assassins and Sunfire soldiers was always a good reason to go pretty much anywhere. But it had been barely two hours before he’d known that he was in big trouble. The scorching heat scrambled his thoughts, but Kanan had known that if he didn’t make it to an oasis by sundown, he would be in big trouble.
It was an hour from sundown when he collapsed.
Facedown in the coarse black sand, Kanan tried to remember why he’d thought sneaking back into Xadia had been a good idea in the first place. Something about research and discovering more about the elves, who the humans had been at war with for years? But all his mind could actually focus on was how thirsty he was.
Made some good time, he thought, attempting to marshall his thoughts. I should keep going. Something in the back of his head was trying to struggle through the fog, to remind him of… something. But his legs were heavy and with the sun getting lower, it was approaching a temperature that wasn’t instantly classified as scalding. It’s a good time to rest, Kanan decided.
And then he heard something hiss and suddenly remembered the other reason sane people don’t travel through the Midnight Desert.
Soulfang serpent! Shoving himself to his feet, Kanan scrambled backwards as a black snake burst out of the sand, its glowing green eyes fixed on him. “Karabast,” Kanan mumbled, racking his brain for a spell, for any possible way of fending this thing off. He’d lost his sword when the Sunfire elves had first caught up with him.
The serpent coiled itself, ready to lunge— and then jerked hard, and crumpled to the ground. Gaping at it, Kanan saw a knife embedded in its spine, pinning it to the ground.
“Are you alright?” someone shouted.
Kanan turned towards the voice— and yep, he was definitely dead or dying, or at least losing his mind, because he was pretty sure he saw an angel flying towards him.
And that was when he passed out.
He was vaguely aware of time passing, although how much he couldn’t be sure. Once he opened his eyes to see the angel bending over him, her face twisted in concern. The only coherent thought in his mind slipped from his lips before he could stop himself— not that he was sure he could have, even if he tried. “If you’re a dream, I’m not sure I want to wake up.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but before she spoke Kanan was already sinking back into blissful unconsciousness. His dreams swirled with vipers and elves and the fierce hot sun, swept away by swift and gentle wings.
Slowly, he struggled his way out of the thick fog of dream land, clawing his way to wakefulness. Dragging his eyelids open, Kanan blinked at the light of the sun shining through… leaves?
He pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing the last of the sleep out of his eyes, and took stock of his surroundings. Palm trees dotted the sand around him, and at a distance he could see a series of stone spires set in a circle, a transparent blue film stretching between them. This must be one of the oases, Kanan guessed as he spotted the large pool of water a few yards away, glimmering in the sunlight.
Climbing to his feet, he noted that he’d been laying on a makeshift bed, crafted from palm fronds and a cloak. A strangely familiar cloak, he realized— it was his. He’d dropped it, along with his pack and his sword, when he’d been ambushed by the Sunfire elves.
And yet here it was. And as Kanan glanced around, he spotted his pack propped against another palm tree not too far away. His sword had been returned to its sheath and was set next to it. No sign of the other sword, Kanan noted as he moved over to the pack, pausing to rummage through it and make sure everything was still there. Which it was.
He’d only been awake a few hours, and he was already dealing with a number of mysteries. Judging by the position of the sun, it was late morning, so he’d survived the night— assuming it had only been one night. But who had brought him here?
Unbidden, a memory sprang to mind— a beautiful woman with wings and bright green eyes. Don’t be ridiculous, Kanan told himself. He had to have been hallucinating when he’d seen… well. He felt silly thinking she was an angel, but there really wasn’t any other logical conclusion that he could think of.
Doesn’t matter for now, he decided as he strapped on his sword. He’d refill his canteen at the oasis, see what he could scrounge up for food, and then figure out his next plan.
He made his way down to the water, first filling his canteen, then splashing his face and forearms with the cool water. It soothed his sunburn— which wasn’t as bad as he’d assumed it would be. Vaguely, Kanan recalled someone covering his burns in something cool and herbal smelling. Someone was here. But who? And where are they now?
“You’re awake.”
The low, melodic female voice sounded out of nowhere, and Kanan’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. Dropping his canteen, he spun around— and froze. He was staring at the angel from his dream.
She stood a few yards away, but Kanan could tell she was a little shorter than him. She was also an elf— he realized that a split second after he saw her. So, not an angel, he thought wryly. Her pointed ears protruded from vibrant green hair twisted back in two braids, and her skin was a slightly lighter shade of green. Pale circular marks curved across her face. Her clothing was simple— she wore a leather vest, a white shirt underneath, orange pants and, oddly enough, a leather pad strapped to her shoulder.
And then there were her wings. The feathers were a tawny golden brown, stippled with flecks of green and orange. They were broad and clearly strong and incredibly beautiful.
In fact, she was incredibly beautiful in general, and Kanan suddenly realized that he’d been staring at her for far too long. And that he hadn’t even thought to draw his sword, despite the fact that she wore several knives on her belt.
She arched a brow at him. “You can still talk, right?”
“Words fail me,” Kanan managed.
Her smile was like a sunrise after a cold night. “So they do.”
Marshaling his thoughts, Kanan said, “I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined you or not, honestly. Thank you, though, for saving my life— do I get a name?”
Tilting her chin up, she eyed him for a moment. “Hera,” she finally said. “And you are?”
“Hera,” Kanan repeated, savoring the word. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kanan. Can you tell me where we are? And how I can best get out of the desert?”
To his disappointment, her smile slipped away, replaced by a frown. “That depends,” she said, folding her arms. “What is a human doing on this side of the Breach? Or did you forget that the elves are at war with you?”
Karabast. Ironically, Kanan had momentarily forgotten about that. “I’m not here to hurt anyone—” he started, stepping forward.
Her hand shot to her belt, plucking a knife from its sheath and holding it at the ready. “Don’t take another step,” she said, locking eyes with him in a steely glare. “Lose the sword, now.”
“Okay, I will,” Kanan said, moving slowly to unbuckle his sword belt as his mind raced. “Look, I promise I’m not here to cause anyone any harm. I just came here to—”
“Steal?” Hera asked, lifting a familiar object— a sword, with a simple hilt holding a blue gem. As she unsheathed it, Kanan could see it glowed blue with heat. “What is a human doing with a Sunforge blade?” she asked coolly.
“Where did you find that?” Kanan asked, deciding to start with the basics as he dropped his belt into the sand.
“With the rest of your dumped gear,” Hera said calmly. “It was unusual enough that, luckily for you, I decided to search a little longer and see if I could find the owner. Not long afterwards, I spotted you.” Returning the blade to its sheath, she added, “And not two hours ago, I bumped into a group of Sunfire elves, searching for a thief.”
Kanan’s stomach lurched, but he kept his face calm. “And you told them that you found me?”
Her gaze flicked away from his, only for a second but long enough that Kanan realized what she was going to say before she spoke. “No. Not yet. I wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself first.”
(Author's note: for what it's worth I'm pretty sure he has a good reason. Do I remember the reason? No, no I do not. It might have actually been a sword that he commissioned, but the Sunfire elves found out that a human was buying it (and a really annoying one at that) and decided it was time to murder him a little bit, as you do.)
#star wars rebels#swr#kanan jarrus#hera syndulla#kanera#the dragon prince#tdp au#also if you're wondering: yes hera does have a pet hawk and yes it is chopper#that is all#swr fan fic#501st follower celebration#writing stories is a kind of magic too
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Do you think that Callum unlocking deep magic could cause him to invent a better magic system?
Ooooh, that’s a very interesting question.
So before I can answer this ask properly, I’ll explain what I think deep magic actually is.
A few years back I made a theory post detailing what I believe deep magic to actually be, and to summarise what I’d said there:
I think deep magic is the underlying core of all magic, the base component from which all other magic is then created, and which all primal sources have in common (like a common denominator of every primal magic spell). When you remove all the various attributes from the other sources (fire from sun, earth from…earth), then what you’re left with is “pure” magic. Aka deep magic.
What that aforementioned post also proposes is that if you could tap into that deep magic and control it, then you should technically be able to control every kind of primal magic to a certain extent (since deep magic is maybe contained in every form of magic).
This was my original theory as to how Aaravos seemingly mastered all six of the primal sources; he simply found a way to control deep magic. These days I don’t think I’d brush him off as „just“ a deep magic user rather than a master of all six sources, but I still think it might’ve played a part in that.
Now to your actual question @dragoncoreice :
Could Callum invent a better magic system using deep magic?
Here’s the thing;
The world of Xadia is built with and upon the six primal sources. Regardless of how they’re getting used, they are the basic building blocks of this reality. So they’re always going to exist in some way, and they aren’t going to be replaced, which I doubt would be even possible.
But I do think that this system of six primals can be improved.
One gripe that I’ve always had with magic (and elven societies for that matter) in the tdp universe is that it’s seemingly so segregated:
The sunfire elves only use sunfire tools, the moonshadow elves only live in villages in this one particular forest, and the ocean elves stay in the water. There seems to be very little exchange happening between the elves and even the dragons, with most of them keeping to their own people and communities, unless they have a practical reason to interact with another.
Similarly, there seems to be no blending of magic in Xadia: every magical item, spell or living being (save for Aaravos) is strictly tied to one primal source, and can only exude magic from that source. Yes, someone can cast magic from another source if it’s in the form of a magical stone/gem or plants, but even then, it’s technically the item doing the magic, not the person.
That is where I think deep magic could help.
If every primal source has the same base component, then it should be possible to combine or even blend different types of magic using that component [deep magic].
So instead of needing to rely on a tidebound elf or an ocean gem to perform a healing spell, a moonshadow elf could tap into deep magic and use that to then indirectly use a nearby water source to cast a healing spell. It may not be as good as from an ocean mage, but it could do the trick.
Or a sky mage could tap into deep magic and use it to sow fire magic into a lightning spell, and create whole new spells that are built from TWO different primal sources.
Once the merging of different types of magic is a thing, a whole world of new possibilities opens up and creates opportunities for new inventions and extraordinary new spells unlike anything that was seen before. And technically it would still be based on the six-primal-sources-system, but better.
So to put it shortly: no, I don’t think discovering deep magic could allow someone to invent a whole new magic system that replaces the old one. But I do think that it could greatly improve and enrich the current one.
Now, wether Callum is the one to unlock deep magic or not is left to be seen, but knowing how passionate he is about magic, he’s definitely going to get involved with it. Once he does get his hands on it, he’ll want to play with deep magic and see where he could go with it.
But considering how one of the shows most prevalent themes is about unity and teamwork, about how working towards a shared future and helping each other out is better than being alone, I wouldn’t be surprised if this revolution of magic didn’t come from Callum alone.
He might instigate it, yes, but I could really see him actually reaching out and teaching others how to tap into deep magic, so that anyone could go and invent new spells and magic; so that everyone has the chance to change the world.
~~~~~~
Thanks for reading✨
Feel free to reblog or comment with your own thoughts and ideas!
#tdp#the dragon prince#tdp theory#tdp headcanons#tdp meta#tdp speculation#tdp callum#tdp magic#tdp deep magic#deep magic#tdp theorist#tdp primal magic#primal magic
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Arcanum Difficulty Level
My sister and I took a quick dive into each of the Arcanums and realized that seem more powerful and versatile than the others. Let's rank them:
Sky: Skywing elves have the ability to fly, but not all of them, less than 1 in 10 of them. That's it. Sky magic mainly deals with air, frost and lightning, and clouds. It's Arcanum is about realizing the power within yourself. Seems to be very basic and simple.
Ocean: Tidebound elves can breathe underwater and swim well, that's it. It's about understanding that there are things you can't control or know. Seems to be the next lesson after sky. Ocean Arcanum is about being able to move around the ocean, and manage some of the tides.
Moon: Seems to be the next one. Moonshadow elves can blend into their surroundings, but only on the full moon. Their Arcanum is about understanding the duality of reality, it's a bit difficult to understand, but it's easy enough, as Callum had some understanding of it in season 3. Their magic has to do with the piercings of reality and illusions, the veil between life and death. Pretty heavy stuff, but capable once understood.
The rest I just understood by how much the elves can do.
Sun: Sunfire elves are capable of increasing their fire power, becoming fire resistant, and healing magic, but that's complicated. Their magic has to do with purification, healing, fire and strength. Now that I think about it, moon might be more powerful than sun, but seeing as Moonshadow elves can only go invisible and sunfire can do more, I have to reason it might be stronger magic.
Earth: Earthblood elves have the ability to connect to plants, stones and gems, magma, and even animals. Such a versatile arcanum, their magic has to do with interacting with the world around them and the world is vast and plentiful. I have to think having that magic you have a deep connection to the earth, and its yours to command. That has to be a strong magic.
Star: Startouch elves have the ability to see beyond their own sight, also live a long time. That's levels of omniscience, Zubia calls Startouch elves "the great ones," and "beings from the heavens." They are akin to gods. This has to be the most powerful of arcanums and the most difficult to understand.
This is probably going to be the order Callum learns them in, ease himself into each one with the easier they are to understand.
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So, I have a concept I've been developing for a whole part-sized JoJo side story.
A post-part-3 Kakyoin is sent on SPW business to a small town nestled in the mountains somewhere in the Maine/Southeast Canada area, along with two other SPW agents.
One of them has a stand that lets them see an object's history by holding it long enough, and is strong & independent enough to be decent in a fight, the other has an incredibly frail stand that can rewrite memories and is nearly invisible even to other stand users, and he uses hamon, though not particularly skillfully, to back it up in combat. These stands aren't named or too well fleshed out yet, and neither are their masters.
Kakyoin's POV, he's leading it, they go to this tiny town with only a single road in and out- there's rumors of pillarman artifacts here, and while them being this far north seems unlikely, it's always good to check.
There's a whole massive cave system in the mountains behind the town, and a pair of local siblings step up to help guide the SPW crew, since the duo know the caves well. (Both show signs of pre-stand potential.) The siblings have mostly their own place, apparently the former mayor's kids before he died, their family has lived here as long as anyone remembers.
The older sister is a goth LARPing horse girl with a fondness for medieval period stuff, named Maria, and the younger brother is introverted and fairly nerdy but loves geology and climbing, named Tobias.
Both have strange tattoos curving up from their chin shaped like tusks.
They go into the cave system with the SPW crew, at one point a massive snowstorm blocks the only road for a while.
While exploring the caves after this, the group finds some old prototype stone masks, and numerous writings in the pillarman languages.
A mysterious presence lurks in the caves, some ancient pillarman ghost who is None Too Happy with these Hamon Aligned Peoples In Their Caves.
Traps get set off, and Kakyoin and Tobias end up trapped in the deepest parts of the caves, and can slowly uncover that a few pillarman, one of whom USED to be a colleague and ally of Kars before his genocidal plans came to light, fled here before Kars could kill everyone, taking as much of Kars' work with them as they could- and some of the townsfolk are descended from them, though Tobias and Maria are the only ones with enough blood left for substantial traits.
Meanwhile on the surface, the SPW employee with the history stand goes on a whole thing about the good the SPW could do using supernatural more freely, the other vehemently disagrees, there's a scuffle, and the mask ends up accidentally activated on the idealist.
The mask was an imperfect prototype, granting them vampire abilities but also zero control and feral bloodlust. Somehow, half the town ends up turning- vampire blood gets into the water supply somehow?
Maria's stand and pillarman powers awaken and fuse, giving her her stand, Powerwolf, a transformation type stand that gives her, essentially, a werewolf transformation supercharged by her pillarman powers while unlocking her full pillarman potential. She gets two long pillarman horns to gore people with, wolf form still with hands and opposable thumbs, has pillarman regen, and is hugely resistant to sun and hamon anyways!
This comes in handy as the winter nights and shadows of mountains and woods let the zombies escalate rapidly.
Meanwhile Kakyoin and Tobias go deeper in the caves, find their way past traps, and confront the ghost of the pillarman who was Kars's collegue. Tobias unlocks his pillarman-power-influenced stand, a draconic transformation named Dragonforce, with some bird and serpent aspects as an aztec mythology reference, and the ability to breathe sunfire. The ghost has a scene with Tobias about being proud of their descendants, Tobias & Dragonforce is the living culmination of their desire to touch the sun made manifest, etc, and the ghost leads them to a special anti-vampire 'magic' spear made to destroy Kars's creations if things got out of hand.
They fade away contented, but turns out they were holding back a bunch of angrier pillarman ghosts, who are now released and trying to possess some of the vampires on the surface to return to the living, giving them a huge power boost in the process.
Kakyoin and Tobias return to the surface to find Maria barely holding the line against a swarm of zombies and vampires, and the other SPW employee turns out to be a government spy in the SPW who WILL blow up the whole town, all of them, the caves, and kill all survivors, to ensure this can't spread if they don't manage to stop it.
Then, there's an epic fight scene with Maria wielding the magic spear on horseback, Tobias flying around in dragon form and breathing sunfire to kill them, Kakyoin getting to be the cool tactician and mentor, and the spy picking off stragglers with hamon.
It'd end after that, with the SPW able to send in more cleanup and Tobias and Maria joining the SPW and Kakyoin getting to be the cool mentor/parental figure/weird uncle for them in the future.
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 YOOOOOOOOO
that's absolutely wild but also sounds So Much Fun and Tobias and Maria sound amazing. Pillarmen shenanigans are always fun to play with
#jjba#jojo’s bizarre adventure#jjba kakyoin#noriaki kakyoin#not my oc#sb answers#dragoninthelabratory
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My two cents on how the season is going to go based on the episode titles:
Domina Profundis - the dragang get the siren stone and get ready to split up, Ezran, Soren and Corvus to get to the beacon, and Callum and rayla to the sunfire settlement, to look for answers
Old Wounds - Rayla and Callum disputes over Runaan's bow/Runaan in general? Maybe a big feelings talk between them and what has happened the past 2 years
Nightmares and Revelations - probably related to Viren's dark magic coma, or this is the part where he ends up in Aaravos' prison? Maybe revelations about deep magic, very interesting
The Great Bookery - Callum and Rayla arrive and unite with Amaya and Janai, look up answers and information regarding Aaravos and startouch magic in general, maybe something happens and they're forced to retreat, reuniting with ezran and the crownguard
Archmage Akiyu - I have no idea where they're going after this but maybe this is the time where they meet Tidebound Tina, and they get information about Akiyu, more info on where Aaravos is, tidebound centered ep
Bait and Switch - Maybe when they depart to sea, maybe they get caught up somewhere? Is this related to Bait somehow? They probably get tricked by pirates and get captured
Sea Legs - they're definitely at sea now, I feel like this is the pirates episode where a lot of action goes down, maybe alluding to the key art of callum underwater and rayla and ezran jumping after him?
Finnegrin's Wake - this is definitely gonna be a heavy episode, everyone's close to their goals and maybe viren is caught at a crossroads regarding claudia, sacrifices are made, etc
Infantis Sanguine - either sir sparklepuff dies, ezran gets hurt, or kim'dael appears, one of those HAS to happen
#holding my breath regarding aaravos being free and moonfam being freed from the coins#if any of this doesnt happen im eating my fist#tdp s5#the dragon prince spoilers#tdp spoilers#tdp season 5#the dragon prince season 5#season 5 speculation
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oh hey out of nowhere it's 1500 words of Claudiangst, possibly some kind of spiritual sequel to that Viren one from pre-s5
—
Claudia sits on a stone beside the Sea of the Castout, and sharpens her knife.
It’s not quite dawn, and the coming morning promises to be bright and clear—she can almost imagine that it’s just another sunrise in Xadia, and the last few days were a terrible and confusing dream. Maybe even the whole month. The ruined stump below her knee, radiating the dull, persistent ache that was as far as she could reduce the pain with what she had in her satchel, destroys the shelter of that fantasy.
The repeated motion of the blade against stone helps a bit, like her calming mantra once did. There is no synonym for cinnamon, there is no synonym for cinnamon—every stroke a little sharper, a little clearer, a little more deliberate. The soft lapping of the waves against the shore might have done the same, once.
She’d almost drowned. Without the potion, her shifted form hadn’t lasted. She’d kicked desperately toward the surface with one leg while bitter seawater and blood rushed into her lungs. When she finally broke the surface, choking and exhausted, it took everything she had just to stay afloat. There was no way she could swim to shore—only drift, watching the sky slowly darken. At some point, the tears came, hot on her sea-chilled face. By the time she washed up on the rocky beach, she’d been incoherent with pain and grief.
The transformation was also the only thing that kept her from bleeding out—her pentapus limbs fusing back together as they returned to human form had mostly closed the wound. Terry had stripped her out of her soaked clothes and wrapped her in a blanket, her body shivering uncontrollably from cold and shock. He’d bound her leg where it was still oozing blood, and he and Sir Sparklepuff fretted over her late into the night as she alternated between chills and feverish delirium.
She holds the blade up to examine it in the pre-dawn gloom, tilting it to catch whatever light it can. It’s a good knife, slim and elegant and curved. It has always been, ever since she found it on the body of a Sunfire elf while picking through the abandoned battlefield. It's far from the least useful thing she's harvested from the dead.
Still, it's not sharp enough. For now.
Wracked with sorrow and fear and pain, she barely slept an hour. But she dreamed.
She'd been back at the center of the sea, standing above it as if it was no more than a puddle. The surface below her was smooth as glass, perfectly reflecting the sky overhead—so overflowing with stars that she couldn't tell if it was night or day. Blood seeped slowly from her leg and dripped into the dark water, lurid in the harsh light, ripples spreading out of sight.
Aaravos’s voice came to her, echoing from every direction. Soft as a whisper, but vibrating through her bones like thunder. We are all stardust, bound together only by love.
She spun, foolishly hoping to see him there. If she could just plead her case to him—she could do better. She would do better. She'd been foolish, thinking her old friends would understand her. Sentimental. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.
There was no one. She was alone between twin tapestries of stars, indistinguishable save for the red ripples that faintly disturbed the one below.
Someone once thought those words would comfort me. Do they comfort you?
“No,” she said. Her voice cracked. “They don’t.”
I thought not. Soft laughter, the kind of indulgent chuckle where it was impossible to tell if you were being laughed with or at—not cruel, but indisputably superior. They did not comfort me either, but I can give you something that might.
Her mouth trembled, eyes burning. She wanted so badly to be wrong, for him to have lied to her, for there to somehow be another chance. “You already said there's no way to bring him back a second time.”
All that could hold him here is cut loose. He is beyond your reach, now.
She couldn't stop her tears, but gulped in a breath and held it to keep from sobbing. It was her fault. She had failed. If she’d only—
If Ezran had just told her where the prison was—
If Callum hadn’t been so stubborn about bringing the baby Archdragon to Xadia—
If Soren had would have killed the elf back when she'd feigned sleep in that stupid, beautiful moonlit garden—if she'd made him, instead of indulging his stupid, childish sense of sportsmanship and honor—everything would be different. Everything would be fine.
She should have realized then that her brother wasn't on her side. Not really. Not like she'd been on his. Not like she'd always been on their family's side. She'd thought he loved her. She'd thought Callum had loved her, or at least liked her. Even Ezran had abandoned her, now. Everyone was gone. She only had Terry.
But I am not.
And Aaravos.
She breathed, shuddering inhales and exhales as she wiped at her face with her sleeve. "What do you want?"
I'm not the one you should be asking. Search your heart, child—there is still something you want very badly. Something that, with my help, lies within your grasp. If you are strong enough to take it.
She would already have everything she wanted, if she hadn't—if Callum and Ezran and that elf hadn't gotten in the way. If the boys she'd once thought of as her best friends hadn't left her for dead, choking and and bleeding and alone in open water. She'd done a lot of things she wasn't proud of—but she would never do that. Not to someone she cared about. They should have known she wouldn't actually hurt Ez.
She still didn't want to hurt him. Not much.
Callum, though—Callum she wouldn't mind hurting. The elf she'd cheerfully tear apart with her bare hands.
The sky continues to lighten, and she holds up the knife again. It's sharp now, like new—it will cut swift and clean. Traveling Xadia for two years, she'd learned a lot. How sharp a blade had to be, the amount of strength it took to sink it deep enough, where and how to cut. Back in Katolis, it had once sickened her to put her hands around a fawn's fragile neck to save her brother. She'd cried with frustration and shame as she struggled, trying to ignore the creature's panicked bleats and thin, flailing legs. Now, she could cut its throat before it even realized what was happening. Ruthlessly. Mercifully.
It can still be better. She returns to the stone.
Fortunately, you already have something that can give you that strength.
Aaravos had told her what to do. Then she'd been plunged into the blood-red water below her, dragged down into the darkness. She'd fought, reaching toward the receding surface, but she was so deep she couldn't even see the light from the sky. As her strength and breath ran out, everything fading away into a soft, endless black, she thought she felt the brush of fingers against her own.
Sir Sparklepuff had been crouched beside her when she started awake, pawing at her as he stared down into her face from the dark. "Blood!" he croaked, scampering away when she sat up. "Blood, blood of child, bloodied child!"
The eastern sky was beginning to pale by the time she'd dragged herself into her clothes and mixed herself something to bring the pain of her leg down to bearable levels. She'd levered herself upright with her staff, hobble-hopping to a nearby rock. The rocky sand shifted under her with each step, only the staff and her own desperation keeping her from falling. If she went down, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to get up again.
She finally collapsed on the rock, chest heaving with effort from having crossed barely ten paces of beach. Aaravos was right—between exhaustion, pain, and blood loss, she wouldn't be going anywhere without a boost.
Her eyes fell on Terry, a little line of worry creased between his brows even as he slept, snoring lightly. He cared for her so much it made her heart hurt, but so had Callum and Ezran, once. Now she saw that he would only ever hold her back. If she still had those coins, Moonshadow elf would be in the palm of her hand. Even tossing them into the lava beneath Umber Tor, though a waste, might have broken her enough to disrupt whatever sway she held over the boys.
It will be best for both of them for her to leave him behind. Maybe he'll hurt for a while, but he won't see how cruel she can be. How cruel she will be, once she catches up with her prey. Let him remember loving a girl who still hesitated.
The first glimmers of sunlight peek over the horizon, and Sparklepuff is at her side. He gazes up at her adoringly, head resting against her good leg, the pale violet stretch of his throat exposed. The blade is heavy in her hand.
Claudia's knife won't get any sharper. She cuts swift and clean.
#kradogsfic#claudia#sorry this is completely incoherent in its verb tense it made sense at the time#(no it didn't but whatever i don't care)
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Been thinking about it partially as I come closer to it in fanon S6 / divergences where what I'm writing (in prose with zero constraints) vs what I think the show is actually more likely to do (such as in this case) with the Celestial elves because like
If we look at it just from a storytelling standpoint, there's a few things we want to take into consideration.
Why Skywing elves?
Despite being an aspiring and then full fledged Sky mage for most of the series (5 seasons) as his defining... career trait? with Ocean only added at the end, Callum's attachment to the Sky arcanum is incredibly important from a thematic standpoint. I talked about this in more detail in terms of how TDP writes from theme to begin with, but it would not surprise me if a lot of the series fell into place after decisions were made regarding "mage boy has Sky-Freedom powers" and "big endgame big bad is Stars and Destiny embodied," i.e. like what kind of dragon Zym would be in order for Callum to have a reason to sacrifice his primal stone, why have Callum learn Sky magic first, etc etc.
The Celestial Elves, presumably, could've been any group of elves. We know from Tales of Xadia that Sunfire elves had a chant about warding off dangerous Star dragons from the Great Orb, and that Karim-Pharos are poised to be future pawns, so there is a decent link there. It also could've been cool if the Celestial elves had had elves from all over, showing both intergroup workings and that the Stars were bringing them together in some manner.
If Sky and Skywing elves by thematic extension represent Freedom, then it makes sense for these to be Skywing elves who have perhaps forsaken notions of freedom for ideas of pre-determinism or destiny, i.e. our circumstances beset all of our choices, or that fate/destiny is real and unchangeable. To have the same arcanum and similar abilities as Callum, but to already be warped to Aaravos' will / thematic graces of destiny and fate - to amplify what he's scared of and to accentuate what he might become (at least in terms of what he's scared to become).
On that note, I think it makes sense for them
To be Antagonists
Partially this is because of precedent. Most elves, when in groups, have been more antagonistic with one or two rising to the forefront to be allies. We see this in arc 1 with Moonshadow and Sunfire elves, with the majority being antagonists especially at first (the assassins, the Sunfire soldiers) with Rayla, Lujanne, and eventually Janai being allies / exceptions - even if the Sunfire elves as a whole quickly switch to being allies as of 3x08/09. We see this again in S4 with the Drakewood Earthblood elves being mostly antagonists, Terry as more of a grey area, and only N'than (and possibly Mukho the Mushroom mage?) being downright allies. This would mean that Astrid and maybe another Startouch elf might be more sy
Plot / Misc Reasons
Of course, the biggest reason for the Celestial elves to exist is to, presumably, give exposition regarding Startouch elves to the main characters and to extradite subsequent views / philosophy about Star magic and the arcanum (arcana?). If they are loyal to Aaravos, they would likely provide a perspective on Startouch elves different than one Callum might be coming in with and give more credence / context to Claudia's assertions of Aaravos as well, given that she's the one character currently with a positive view of him. It also doesn't seem they can entirely be good guys given their 1) isolationist nature and 2) having not one but two super OP objects that the protagonists definitely need. While they may not end up being villains, I think we can somewhat safely assume they will initially be obstacles, if only in giving tests (of love) like another certain Startouch elf...
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Dead Darlings Tag
Thank you @byjillianmaria for the tag! Check out her dead darling for There's Magic Between Us here.
I have had to bury many darlings over the years, but the most recent one is the scrapped prologue to Shifting Roots. This would have featured the POV of Breezeheart as he and Sunfire meet their untimely demise. I decided to scrap this scene for a few reasons:
It detracted from the mystery of what killed Breezheart and Sunfire
In a cast of characters this large, I thought it was more important for the reader to get to the perspectives of the lead characters ASAP.
There are a lot of queer characters in this cast but it didn't feel fantastic to start the book with two of them dying.
That said I do still like the prologue itself, so here it is:
The sun rose early over Alliance Lake. The cats that lived in the western marshes rose earlier.
Two toms made their way down to the lakeshore to watch the sunrise. They placed their paws where moss grew thick on the ground out of habit, though it had been nearly a month since the last heavy rain and the earth on their path had long since dried to a safe density.
The two toms were Breezeheart and Sunfire, rangers of the Marsh-lands. Sunfire held the title by blood, his large frame and thick golden pelt giving away his heritage to any cat who knew of the Alliance Lake colonies. Breezeheart was a Marsh-lander through bond, having arrived in the territory from the wastes beyond it as a young cat. He had trained alongside his brother to earn the chance to join the proud colony, and they had proven themselves true Marsh-landers by navigating the treacherous swamps alone in the dark. Though his smaller size set him apart from the natural-born marsh cats, Breezeheart knew he was where he belonged.
Sunfire led the way over the stepping stones that crossed the West River. The ground on the other side was drier, and the dawn light was already beginning to reach it. The rosy tint on the horizon was burning away with the eastern fields’ mists, changing to a brilliant gold before Breezeheart’s eyes. Summer was hurrying on its way with all the impatience of a kitten.
He snorted. “The Spirits to Come are as excitable as ever.”
“They aren’t the only ones today.” Sunfire pointed his muzzle skyward. “Look, the full moon has risen early! The Spirits Beyond will bless the Moonlight Meeting with good fortune.”
The full moon hanging in the morning sky was surely a good omen, but Breezheart did not need to see it to know there would be good news. He could hardly remember a time when bad news had been shared at a Moonlight Meeting. Perhaps an Elder might have passed, but there would be no concerns about famine or plague. He had left those worries behind him in the wastes.
In the daylight, the small island sitting in the lake was far from impressive. That night, under the light of the full moon and the watchful eyes of the Spirits Beyond, Moonlight Island would transform into a beacon of peace and prosperity for all the colonies of the Alliance.
Sunfire, however, was at his most handsome in the early morning light. When the first rays of his namesake touched his golden-ginger fur and sparkled in his blue eyes, he took Breezeheart’s breath away.
“The colony doesn’t leave until sundown. We have plenty to do until then,” Breezeheart reminded Sunfire. Although the golden tom was an Envoy, singled out as a cat of remarkable skill and the potential to lead the colony, he was prone to kittenish behavior when there was a celebration to look forward to.
Breezeheart, however, never forgot the seemingly endless number of tasks an experienced ranger could expect in a day. No colony cat was ever still for long once the sun was up, and Marsh-landers had to work fast to complete their morning tasks before the midday heat made the humidity unbearable. Breezeheart was even busier than most rangers--as a Mentor, it was his duty to make sure young Marsh-landers learned the skills they would need to be successful rangers.
He was not personally training a new-claw at the moment, but overseeing group practice kept him on his toes. Every ranger trained at least one new-claw during their service to the colony, but Breezeheart did not think he would recommend Halfmask or Falconswoop to be personal trainers again. Boulder should be having his ranger ceremony that night, but Halfmask had yet to break him of his mean streak or impart any values to the burly tom other than: might makes right. Falconswoop was a skilled ranger, but she was awkward around young cats and didn’t know what to do with Red, leading him to follow Boulder’s lead more than hers.
Pool and Ice were due to begin their field training once they received the blessing of the Spirits Beyond that night. Breezeheart had hoped to take Pool under his wing, but Captain Hawkshell had discreetly informed him and the other Mentor, Birdflight, that she intended to make Wildfur responsible for Pool’s field training. As much as Breezeheart wanted to trust his Captain’s judgement, he almost raised a complaint to the Council about it. Halfmask and Falconswoop were already struggling to handle their new-claws; giving Pool to the laziest tom in the colony would only make things worse.
Sensing the busy buzz of Breezeheart’s thoughts, Sunfire licked his ears. “I thought we’d go by the border with Oak Colony this morning. I fancy a spar with Dawnfrost or Vinestripe if we can catch them.”
Only Sunfire, who walked with confidence in every pawstep, would speak so casually of challenging another colony’s Envoys to a fight. Oak Colony was on good terms with Marsh Colony now, but according to the Elders, that had not always been the case. It was Captain Elmtail and Captain Hawkshell’s close friendship that had eased tensions between the two colonies, but both of them were getting on in years.
Perhaps that was why, after Whitefire retired as her Second in Command, Captain Hawkshell named soft-spoken Leafstorm as her successor instead of Sunfire. While Sunfire was a promising Envoy, his relaxed attitude toward borders and mock-battles with other cats would not be taken so kindly coming from a Captain. Rather than be discouraged, Sunfire only seemed that much more determined to pursue inter-colony battle training.
Breezeheart only rolled his eyes at Sunfire’s antics. “And if we meet some other cat who isn’t so keen on your sparring idea?”
“Then they’ll have to catch us!” Sunfire laughed. “And besides, there are songbirds in the branches there.”
The golden tom spoke as casually as ever, but the nervous sniff of his nose and flick of his tail gave away the romantic intent of the outing. He had been planning it for the better part of spring, when he first noticed the fledglings growing in their nests.
Breezeheart leaned against him and intertwined their tails. “Let’s hope no Oak Colony ranger interrupts them with their yowling, then. Besides, as much as I admire your skill in battle, I prefer you with all your fur on.”
“Breezy!” Sunfire huffed, though it came out as a purr near the end. He nuzzled the shorter tom. “No cat could get the best of me when I’m fighting for you.”
The two walked closely to keep their tails entwined and their pelts brushing against one another until they had to part to cross back over the West River. One of its many tributaries snaked away toward the northern reach of the marshes, up to Dry Stones, where the colony sheltered during floods. While the creek didn’t mark the border with Oak Colony exactly, it did make for a good guideline.
As they scouted along the borderland, Breezeheart was taken by a rush of pride in the marshes that were his home. He felt no envy for the Oak-landers’ thick tangle of forest, or Field Colony’s open and exposed meadows, or River Colony’s too-sunny shores. Every damp pawstep of the Marsh-lands and every cat within them were his to cherish and defend, all with Sunfire at his side. He couldn’t imagine a happier life, and he purred in satisfaction as he pressed his forehead to Sunfire’s shoulder.
Sunfire returned his purr and settled his muzzle between Breezeheart’s ears, tickling them with his twitching whiskers.
The golden tom jerked his head up. “I just remembered! Wait here, Breezy.”
“Wait for what?” Breezeheart asked, but Sunfire had already rushed off into the undergrowth. With a sigh, the gray tom settled onto his haunches and licked a paw, swiping it over his ears to get rid of the ticklish sensation.
The sun continued to rise in the sky, its light no longer soft or playful.
Breezeheart was about to give up on waiting and call out to Sunfire, assuming he’d gotten distracted by something, when the nearby ferns rustled. Breezeheart stiffened, the fur rising along his back. Whatever shook the fronds like that was too large to be prey, and a deep, musky odor unlike anything he’d smelled before met his nose.
“Sunfire, that better be you playing a trick,” Breezeheart said.
He dropped into a crouch, keeping his tail low and ears forward as he stalked toward the foliage. The crisp scent of the sparse pines that grew on the north end of Marsh Colony’s territory could not completely mask the foreign stench.
What was that foul smell? It was not pungent enough to be a skunk, not earthy enough to be a badger. Every so often Breezeheart caught a faint trace of Sunfire’s familiar scent, and he breathed in as much of it as he could.
“Sunfire, where are you?” Breezeheart yowled.
The ferns ahead trembled, but there was no wind to move them. The crunch of twigs and snap of branches echoed through sudden silence.
A shadow engulfed Breezeheart. At first he thought a cloud had obscured the sun, but when he looked up he did not see the sky.
He barely saw the beast before he was sent flying by a crushing blow. He rolled across the ground, struggling to get to his paws. His hind leg buckled under him, broken, and he fell against something soft and damp. He nearly choked on the smell of blood… and Sunfire. His pounding heart came to a stuttering halt when he realized he was lying on bloodied scraps of the tom’s pelt. The rest of him lay not far away in a crumpled heap, a bundle of water hyacinth and rose mallow--Breezeheart’s favorite flowers--not far away.
“Oh, Sunfire…!” Breezeheart cried, hobbling toward the remains of his mate. He knew he had to get back to the base, warn the colony of this strange beast stalking their land, but he couldn’t leave Sunfire there. Not his brave, magnificent Sunfire.
He froze in terror as the shadow loomed over him again. The next strike came straight down, slamming him into the ground. He could no longer feel the pain of his broken leg. He tried to speak Sunfire’s name one last time, only for the searing pain of his now broken jaw to stop him. The world spun out of focus, and then went dark.
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Elven burial rites
Currently wondering what they look like, especially two of them. Some seem to be straightforward:
sunfire elves: probably cremation, but there are several possibilities for the ashes. Maybe fancy golden urns. From one of the short stories we also know that they light soul candles to guide the souls back to the sun
earthblood elves: yeah, just bury them. Maybe plant a tree on top or use a nice crystal as gravestone
tidebound elves: Well, there are sea burials, but that’s actually a thing for land dwellers. Apparently tidebound elves live in the sea, and I don’t see them just tossing corpses out of the windows onto the street. Maybe deep sea trenches? Cremation seems kind of unlikely!
skywing elves: There are human cultures with “sky burials” ... which essentially means “leave them on a hilltop and let the vultures take care of it”. Or you could just turn them into birds? (looking at you, Ibis) Or cremate the dead and scatter the ashes in a storm
And then the two I have no idea about:
moonshadow elves: ??? In a SciFi AU they could bury their dead on the actual moon, but until then ... I think there is a mausoleum in Bloodmoon Huntress, is that a hint? Does everyone get a fancy stone sarcophagus? Sounds expensive, especially when it comes with a mausoleum or crypt (although earth mages could maybe help out). And where exactly would be the connection to the moon here? The moonlight should probably be able to shine on the final resting place.
startouch elves: I think the star arcanum is, among others, about understanding your insignificance in the grand scheme of things, in the face of the endless universe. So they might just not care and do whatever. Or they avoid the issue by simply not dying^^
Any more thoughts?
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