Callisto

Paths

"Callisto," Rain-Born said.

Father-Mother grinned, tasting blood bubbling on their lips.

"We obeyed the visions that swam under our eyes. The threads that led to freedom were there, dangling before us, waiting for our feet to but trip upon the proper path. Freedom from this world – this dry, desolate, discarded wasteland. You have seen it now, snake. Does it please you to know it?"

When the girl said nothing, Father-Mother grimaced. The girl mocked them openly, like the disobedient wretch she was. The snake that refused to die.

"I go to my ancestors," Father-Mother groaned. "I will follow them to that which waits beyond, and I would take both tribes with me if I could. I would choke the children in their cribs, I would slay their mothers as they slept, and I would battle with the hordes of both clans that came to offer their retribution. This world must die, Rain-Born. It is not one meant for us. We belong among the stars. Our kingdom is that of the heavens, not of the sands!"

Father-Mother coughed up the torrent of bile that could no longer be contained in their throat and smiled triumphantly at Rain-Born. Though their eyes were still closed, they knew she was watching. Thinking.

"So do it, girl," they goaded. "Sink your poisoned teeth into the heart of your Elder. Complete your treachery and deliver me to the world beyond."

When the girl still did not reply, Father-Mother grew impatient.

"Do the fangs you have grown catch your tongue?" they asked, becoming enraged. "Why do you say nothing, girl?"

"I was thinking," Rain-Born finally replied. "Someone else said something very similar to me, not too long ago."

There it was: the drawing of a blade. Father-Mother heard the sheathing of metal, perceptible to their ears even as the life drained from them. They braced, and only winced slightly as the object came crashing down.

But the death blow did not come.

Instead, they heard the cold metallic sound of a solid item hitting the ground.

And they opened their eyes, seeing the canister, tracing the letters, and feeling their spirit sag.

Callisto lay before them.

"I promised you, my Elder," the girl said. "I would find Callisto within the Iron Forest. And I would bring it to you."

Father-Mother looked at it with the final ounces of ferocity left in their soul. It was something that they should know, and yet try as they might it conjured no memories. This pitiful thing was their mysterious mother, come back to witness her child's end.

So entranced were they that they barely noticed Rain-Born rise above them and give a quiet sigh.

"I cannot offer you the gift of death, Father-Mother," she said. "You may have given me the gift of life, but that was one thing you did not see with your own eyes. You were given a destiny to follow, not a life to live, and so I cannot take that life which has never belonged to you. Instead, I give you your webspinner. The architect of both your pain and mine."

Father-Mother reached out a hand to touch the dried blood on the canister, smearing the grainy letters with their own life-fluid. Knowing that inside, it was empty.

"It may spin the webs," Rain-Born continued. "And it may set the path, but it is our choice to follow it or turn away, towards a path of our own. I chose to deny it. What will you choose?"

Now Father-Mother did raise their withered head to look at her. The face they saw seemed a little more aged, weathering the burden of sights seen and lives ended. They expected to find sadness beyond words etched there, and yet instead there was still youth in those tattooed eyes. Her braids still fell over her shoulders like the dream catchers draped outside the tent. And just like those mystical objects, her face betrayed wisdom in its pattern.