#remember Claudia didn't see Callum at the Storm Spire . . . she doesn't know he can do primal magic w/o a stone yet :D

[sage-nebula]

character of your choice + 89!

"I'm looking at you through the glass. Don't know how much time has passed. All I know is that it feels like forever. But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head." — "Through Glass" - Stone Sour

"Em ot meht wohs, wodniw laitselec."

As the words fell from Claudia's lips, the blood from the beheaded cuddle monkeys she held in her hands fell into the bucket of water in front of her. For a split second, she saw the blood billow through the water; in the next she felt the surge of their Star energy ripple through her, crackling under her skin like the popping pebbles candy she had invented years ago, and her vision went white.

Every dark primal magic spell felt different. Dark Sun magic made her skin feel like melting wax. Dark Sky magic made her lungs feel fit to burst. But Dark Star magic was on another level entirely. It was as if she could feel every atom of her body, frothing like water left to boil for too long, spilling over so that it filled every inch of the cave she shared with her father's remains.

Claudia released the breath she'd been holding, and scrunched both her face and concentration as she stared hard at the basin in front of her. It was the only aspect of the cave not whited out by her spell. It alone was bright, shining with swirling colors as it sifted through her whims to show her what she wanted — what was it that she wanted? Why had she tried this spell?

Claudia's eyes narrowed. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. And with all the strength she could muster, she pulled her mind away from the bubbling under her skin to focus hard on the liquid window she had created. At once, the blur of colors slowed into a single, solid image.

There.

The castle in Katolis.

It was just as she remembered it: bright stone walls with uneven towers, a solid sanctuary under a bright blue sky. The particular view given to her was her favorite courtyard, the one with the bench under the tree that had allegedly been there for a few hundred years. It was the courtyard where Soren trained Callum in swordplay, where Ezran had chipped his tooth when he fell while playing hopscotch.

Claudia took a deep breath through her nose. She didn't want to look at this courtyard. It wasn't the reason for her spell.

She waved her hand over the basin, and the resulting ripples formed a new image for her.

This time, she was looking in on her bedroom, which was exactly how she'd left it. Scattered notes were all over her desk; there was a stack of books on the chair next to it that she swore she would eventually return to the library, but always got distracted before she could. She had made her bed, at least, but had left her closet door ajar; she could just make out the jar of salamander eyeballs she'd been pickling before she left, tucked on a shelf beside her favorite pair of sandals.

She could use those salamander eyeballs. They were probably almost ready. She knew the rotation of the guards at the castle; if only she could find a way there and back that would be fast enough so as not to put her father at risk—

Claudia jumped as her bedroom door opened, and the water in the basin splashed in response to her knee hitting it, threatening to dispel the image. She placed both hands on either side of the basin to calm it, and shifted her view of her room so she could see who entered. Her breath stuck in her throat when she saw him.

Soren.

Her first instinct was indignation. What was he doing in her room? It was her room. And he was messier than she was, and far less careful with magical things—

But as he walked over to her desk, the lump in her throat sidled down into her heart. It had been months since she had last seen him, at least. Months since the battle at the Storm Spire, when he had—when he had—

She clenched her fist on her knee.

It had been months. But there he was, in her room, and he didn't look that different from how she remembered. His hair was a little longer, but it was still the same sandy blond. He had a little stubble around his chin—was he trying to grow a beard? Claudia snorted a laugh. He would like ridiculous with a beard. She hoped he was trying to grow one. She could use something to laugh about.

Soren, of course, couldn't see her. But he was holding something in his hands, and as she watched he set it down on her desk. It was another piece of paper, and it had something written on it that she couldn't make out. A fault more of his handwriting than her spell, she thought; his penmanship was atrocious.

"Wrote another poem for you, Clauds," Soren said, and once more Claudia about jumped out of her skin. His voice was so clear, it was like he was there in the cave with her. "I think you'll like this one. It's about—well, you'll see when you get back."

Claudia stared even more intently at the papers on the desk. Not all of them were her notes, she could see that now. There were at least four others that bore the same scribbles as the one Soren had just delivered.

She swallowed hard, her eyes suddenly stinging.

Soren sucked enough air into his cheeks to make them puff, and released it in a loud exhale. He swung his arms by his sides, looking every bit as awkward as he always had at fancy castle dinners. He stayed there for another second or two, and then knocked his knuckles twice against the back of her chair before he turned and left.

Claudia pressed her lips together tightly, and swiped her sleeve across her eyes. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. Why was he talking to her? It's not like he had any way of knowing she was using that spell. And he could walk again, so it made no sense that he was writing poetry when that was only something he said he was going to do if he'd remained paralyzed. The whole thing was silly. Silly, sappy Sor-bear.

She sniffed, and scrubbed the last tears from her eyes. Her time was almost up; she could feel the magic she'd consumed fizzling out under her skin, and the image in the basin was becoming blurrier, less distinct. But there was one last place she still wanted to see. She waved her hand over the basin again, and the water rippled, the image reshaping to show her another room: her father's study.

Her father's occupied study.

Claudia sat up straight, staring first in shock, and then fury at the sight of Callum in her father's study. It made no sense—why was he in there? He had no reason to be in there. He wasn't being chased by a moonshadow elf assassin, her father wasn't there to answer any questions. Her father was—for the moment, he was dead. It was only temporary, she was going to fix it, Aaravos had assured her she could fix it and had taught her even this spell, so she knew he wasn't lying—but for the moment, he was dead. Her father was dead, and in this cave, not in his study.

But Callum was in his study. And as she watched, it became clear it was because he had taken the study. He was seated at a desk, pouring over a tome of some kind. He had changed the decor; there were pieces of paper tacked up to the walls that hadn't been there before, he had one of his coats thrown over one of the spare chairs, had kicked off his boots to wear house slippers instead. He had made himself at home. So, what, Callum was the high mage now? Callum? He had broken her primal stone, on purpose. Unless he had somehow found another one, it wasn't like he could even do magic. He couldn't even be a baby mage without magic, much less a high one.

Then again, Claudia supposed Callum had friends in high places now. He had decided to betray she and her father both to side with Xadia. Maybe the dragon queen had seen fit to give him another primal stone. Maybe he had decided to sell out humanity for new toy, because he thought himself too good to use the gifts Aaravos had already given to them.

The gifts that let Claudia spy on him even now, while he was none the wiser.

Callum tapped his pencil against his desk as he read, then glanced at something over his shoulder. He looked back to his book, and then promptly shut it before he pushed away from his desk. As Claudia watched, he strode across the office to an object covered by a large sheet, and then ripped the sheet off with a flourish.

Claudia sucked in a sharp breath.

It was the mirror.

It was Aaravos' mirror.

"There has to be something here," Callum muttered. He tapped his finger against his chin, tilting his head this way and that. "He wouldn't have kept it for no reason. He had to have been using it for something. But what?"

"That's not for you to know," Claudia said, but of course Callum couldn't hear her. He traced his fingers along the runes engraved in the frame, and she squeezed the basin so hard her hands hurt. That wasn't his mirror. That wasn't his office. He had no right to be there. He had no right to have that mirror. He had no right—!

As Callum touched his fingers to the glass, Claudia shoved the basin away from her with a wordless yell. The water splashed against the cave floor, and with the spell broken, a dark void consumed Claudia's vision. She braced herself on her hands and knees, breathing hard, as the fizzle of Dark Star magic under her skin finally seeped away, and her vision slowly but steadily returned to her—fuzzy at first, but then as clear as it ever was.

So that was how things were, then. In the months that she and her father were gone, Callum had made himself cozy in the high mage's office, playing at being one. Ezran was no doubt the king, then—there was no way anyone without a bias would make someone who couldn't do magic a high mage—and Soren . . . Soren was writing her poems, and leaving them on her desk for when she came back. As if she ever could.

Claudia sat back, her hands on her lap. With the spell broken, the cave was so quiet now. Her father's remains were—well, they were being kept fresh. But he couldn't say a word to her, not yet. And Aaravos hadn't spoken to her for days. It was just Claudia, alone in the cave with what was left of her father. Her brother, her home—both of those were a lifetime away, never mind the continent. It didn't matter how many poems left, or how useful those salamander eyeballs were.

Claudia could never go back.

[Send me a character or ship, and a number from 1 - 100, and I'll write a vignette based on the corresponding song on my Spotify wrapped.]

#thank you!!! #the dragon prince #tdp #claudia #tdp claudia #soren #tdp soren #prince callum #takes place btwn s3 and s4 obvs #remember Claudia didn't see Callum at the Storm Spire . . . she doesn't know he can do primal magic w/o a stone yet :D #fic fix