Stage 4 Solo 1
He had only been away from Sauti for a short time, and yet the feeling of hard stone under his toes was soothing in its familiarity. Most souls by now were sequestered indoors, huddling against the cold, or warming themselves with honeyed liquor from the tavern. It was nearing midnight, and along the roads of the settlement lanterns glowed invitingly. The wind had calmed, peacefully drifting, and though it was cold it was welcomed, at least in short bursts. Here, Callum could walk the grounds, comfortable in the knowledge that his charge was safe indoors. He should have been inside as well; a smarter man would have been asleep by now, buried deep in his blankets, awaiting the dawn. They would need to travel early to make it to Akiyal’s family before nightfall, and yet, like so many nights before, sleep evaded him. Callum exhaled hot air onto his cold fingers, and took in a lung full of the settling, Sauti night. Here, he didn’t feel the need to explain himself… he was simply a local, enjoying the stars that glimmered as they always did.
Under the moon’s watch Callum’s eyes lost their hoary glow and deepened in color to become an abysmal, monotonous gray. As beautiful as the night was, the scenery alone could no more change his mood than the plethora of liquor inside. Around others his temperament rarely changed; either Callum was a pleasure, always smiling, laughing, and exuberant or he was distant; so far sunk into his mind that it was nigh impossible to pull him out. Akiyal had more than once commented on his forlorn behavior, and yet, Callum did little to change the younger man’s mind. Age had opened him up as a more honest man, both to others and himself, regarding the emotions that lay deep within his soul. However, that hadn’t made him any happier. If anything seeing himself laid out so bare had caused Callum to become as removed from life as any member of the living could. Over the past two years happiness became more of an ever elusive dream than a reality, and it was becoming far too much of a strain to maintain the illusion of mental stability.
In moments like these, when the stars were fit to burst, Callum felt the emptiest. He would often clasp the ring around his finger with a ferocity that could call on spirits, and if his prayers could have reached them, then maybe the desperation in his voice would have brought his love back from the dead.
The attack had been as sudden as a storm, and just as consuming. For reasons he would never fully comprehend, his husband had been targeted by a group of alkidike while they visited friends in Jauhar. Callum wasn’t ignorant; he knew there were plenty of alk that hadn’t crossed the seas to Yael that still bore a heavy dislike for hybrids, but he’d thought the more extreme of their lot had been driven away. In that sense Callum was ignorant and had allowed himself to become blind in the face of Jauhar’s beauty. The pair had been swarmed in a moment of relaxation, sharing a rare moment of tranquility with a friend, their surrogate Eema, and all too quickly overwhelmed. Their target had been clear. Nimueh was everything they hated most in the world; an earthling sympathizer, and one who shared their blood. Eema was a bonus; a fellow hybrid they hadn’t known of, and yet, one they wanted desperately to kill.
No matter how hard they fought to turn the tide their loss was inevitable. A mob had descended upon the triad. The attack was so vicious and feral, orchestrated by women beyond reasoning, that it would awaken Callum with screams for years to come. In the battle Nimueh had disappeared from his sight, and that was that. One twisted, serrated piece of metal through his gut prevented Callum from seeking out his husband. Try as he might he couldn’t retain his consciousness, and all the deseperation in the world, the pull to just stay awake, couldn’t keep him from fading.
He had never expected to wake up. When he found himself swaddled in bandages, lying atop Eema’s bed, Callum could scarcely believe it. Good sisters had come, she said; they had been tracking the lingering extremists for years and while they dispatched of most some fled. In the confusion Nimueh had been lost; Eema thought he had gone after them, the sisters had thought he’d been taken but either way, he had been gone from sight for too long. After a day of searching the alkidike responsible for their rescue had returned with grizzly news; a body had been found, but it had been badly burned. As if someone had attempted to hide their deeds or even...to burn away the impurities in their victim’s blood.
There was no way of knowing for sure if that body had belonged to his husband or not. And yet, a funeral was held, just the same.
In the beginning Callum’s emotions had been volatile, and even now, years after the incident, he struggled to remember those months. Callum knew of a night, a darkened room and a pillow, shoved so far into his mouth that he gagged, all in an effort to keep the children from hearing him scream. Callum had suppressed so much in the beginning that it made him physically ill, and really, wasn’t that more damaging to his kids than allowing them to see him cry? How many nights did he lie awake, choking on his own inability to keep up, to prove himself just as strong as any alkidike to save the one person who had always saved him? But he knew, just knew the wall he’d built so high had been chipped away to such a degree that he wouldn’t be strong enough to stand again.
Nimueh’s very existence had been tied with the last vestiges of Callum’s sanity, and with him gone, the man started to slip away.
Thoughts of chasing Nimueh into the afterlife had always been tantalizing close, and now….now he wondered just how much of his mental instability had been visible to Sol and Ygraine. He knew they had been cared for on his worst days; his in-laws would have seen to that. They were teenagers at the time; old enough to understand, but still so young. How many times had they tried to reach out to him, only to have Callum brush off their concerns? Or worse, to be so devoid of life that he’d ignored them? He should have been there to guide them through it, and yet...he just couldn’t.
He remembered the red flower, though. Callum could taste the bitter tea he so often brewed with it’s scarlet leaves, and after a while, it became a nightly routine to help him sleep. It was a dangerous risk he took; to walk that thread, already so thin with past addiction, and still keep his head high. If his children noticed the difference they didn’t comment. The tea dulled his senses, made it harder for him to feel the near crippling depression, and allowed him to be a part of their lives in whatever capacity he could. His body, already so thin, slipped down to near dangerous levels, but food help no appeal to him. In those days all Callum wanted was a cup of tea, and the warmth of his cabin.
Before his eyes they ascended into adulthood, and soon enough, left to live on their own. Ygraine had her adventures, Sol had his training in Sauti, and Callum...had an empty nest, on his in-law’s land, in a country he never truly belonged in. When the tea could no longer cull his mood he put the flower down, one last time, and took a long, hard look at his life.
Callum had been born of desperation, and had lived his life on its principles. For every great moment of happiness an equal amount of darkness had come to snatch it away, leaving more than its fair share of emptiness in its wake. The sheer fact that he no longer felt the need to cry was more shocking than his episodic mood swings. Sex, drinking, parties....Nothing helped to fill the void, and as desperate as he was to feel decent again, Callum struggled.
It wasn’t until he set fire to the cabin that he felt the urge to live again.
With his husband out of reach and his children gone, Callum decided there was no reason to keep a home anymore. It only tied him to this world, and kept him stagnant; if he was going to try to keep himself together it needed to go. Simple as that. He saved what personal effects he thought the children would want, packaged them for his in-laws to keep, and under the glow of a winter’s moon set fire to the only real ‘home’ he had ever known.
His children, though grown now, still yet walked with him in the world of the living, and he wouldn't abandon them. He couldn’t; not again. They deserved far more than he could ever give them, but with Nimueh’s absence Callum was keenly aware of having to work twice as hard to be the parent they needed. He had failed for years now, but maybe he could be just a little better. For them.
Watching the brilliant embers consume the space he’d inhabited for so many years brought Callum a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a while. It was cathartic; sitting in the bitter snow, warmed only by Faulina’s feathers at his back, letting go of what kept him stagnant. With no home there was no going back. He would either get up, move on with his life, and survive, or freeze to death.
A sudden ruckus behind him reminded Callum that while he walked beneath the stars, he wasn’t so far removed from others. Several young women stumbled out of the inn, and while in the throws of a unified tune, they couldn’t seem to keep to the same key. The sight relaxed him. He didn’t know why, but a part of him had assumed it would be Akiyal, ready to haul him back inside like the mad man he was. The younger Sautian was stubborn to a fault, honest to the point of obnoxiousness, and yet...refreshing enough to keep Callum on his toes. He’d come into his world like a bounding sermal, ready to tear his way through Callum’s subconscious whether he was ready or not. It had happened so abruptly that Callum wondered when he had grown used to Aki being there. At this point in their travels it felt only natural for him to tend after the younger man, to push him in ways Aki’s own father wouldn’t, and maybe that in itself was helping him to cope.
Callum turned his eyes to the inn, looking for the window he knew belonged to their room. What would he have gained by following his husband into death? Nimueh wouldn’t have been pleased, that was sure enough, and would likely have berated him for the rest of eternity for being so selfish. Callum released a long, pent up breath, before turning to head back. He wasn’t ready to let go, not yet, but he wasn’t ready to write himself off, either. Sol and Ygraine needed a father, and Akiyal...needed something, though Callum wasn’t sure what that was, exactly. For now he would be a guardian to him; someone to stand by while they figured out what it was they wanted out of life.
It wasn’t much, but maybe, at least for now that was enough.
(WC: 1987)
[5]
