May the Stars Align -- Viravos & Rayllum

chapter 1

Aaravos' heart dropped. What was this feeling? He stumbled back, away from the mirror and fell back on the ground. Why was his mind and soul consumed with despair? Dread? Hurt? 

Thirty days had passed and Viren did not want to stay alive. Viren wanted to do right by his children and end this endless cycle of dark magic and sacrifice. Aaravos stared angrily at the fireplace. He had peered into that fire countless times. His anger festered much like the fire before him. Ordinarily, he would be comfortable with festering rage. In fact, he would thrive off of it. Ruin some lives, drive some people to murder, revolt, and do unspeakable things. But today, he had nothing. He thought these feelings came from the fact that without his one bargaining chip, nobody would free him. Saving Viren's life meant his freedom. What he didn't know was that it had become more than that. 

Aaravos turned away from the fire and looked back at the mirror in front of him. There lay Viren on the sand, entirely immobile, minutes from death. In front of him, a torn Claudia and a distressed Terry. Sparklepuff let out a cry, a pained screech as he usually does. In an instant, Aaravos grew cold, bereft of anger. He was not one to feel things. Things like love or affection. He was a Startouch elf. And as such, if he were to revive Viren, if he were to use the blood of his child, he would not care if Viren never spoke to him again. If Viren would disappear from his life and continue a life with his children, his back turnt from dark magic and Aaravos. At least this was what Aaravos would make himself believe. You see, Startouch elves are mystical all-powerful beings, but they have the hypocrisy and convoluted chaos of humans. So just as saving Viren was not an act of love in his standards, neither was the pang in his chest as Viren walked away. 

Viren's eyes shot open and hardened as he realized what had occured. He remained silent. No matter what he could say, Aaravos would have a rebuttal ready at his lips. Perhaps he would cajole him into freeing him or staying by his side. Viren did not care. He swiftly and silently turned to pick up his daughter, clasp Terry by the hand, and leave the beach. Viren would soon realize that in his condition, having only just narrowly escaped death, he could not carry an entire human being for very long, even if that person was missing a leg. He set Claudia down on a tree stump and turn to Terry, tears finally fleeing his eyes. He could only hold on for so long. Terry held Claudia's leg in silence. Terry, the man who always had a silver lining to point out, remained silent, his hands trembling. After a couple of minutes, Terry managed to properly breathe without choking on tears. 

"I-I brought her leg...b-because I th-thought you could possibl-" 

"I can't," Viren said quietly. 

"O-oh."

"No, well, I can, but I won't." 

"Why?" Terry said incredulously.

"I'm giving up dark magic, Terry. Dark magic did all of this. Dark magic turned my daughter into this. This-this cycle of dark magic and sacrifice needs to end. She might get a leg, but who has to suffer for that to happen?" Viren began to spiral, his hands shaking, images of Claudia walking into a tsunami of blood flashing in front of his eyes, the illusion of Aaravos whispering in his ears all of his failures, his faults. Terry held his hand. 

"I understand, sir, and I respect your decision...what can we do to help her?" Viren looked at Terry with a visage of determination. 

"We must go back to the castle."