Short Story [Calisto's Bonding]

Hey peeps!

Here is the short story (a bonus one, really, lol). I asked Brian Wiggins to narrate, so Patreons-only will get an audio version to enjoy. Hopefully you guys are excited about that!

Here it is!

Calisto’s Bonding

What was I doing with my life?

I told myself I’d never let Everett talk me into another scheme or crazy plan. That was what I had decided, all those years ago. Yet here I was, in the middle of some stone palace, waiting around for that con artist to return, like some pathetic lisque.

Everett had been so passionate—like he always was. Him and his damn words. He used them like a weapon when he was motivated. I both admired and hated him for all the things that he convinced me to do.

I leaned back in the cushioned chair, staring at the ceiling.

This wasn’t how I had expected my life to end… A slow and painful crawl over the finish line. I should’ve gone out in a blaze of glory. I should’ve been struck down by some righteous swashbuckler and thrown into the depths. That was how I imagined it, whenever I closed my eyes…

The door to the room opened.

Tense, and hating everyone at the moment, I sat up. Some servant shuffled into the room, wiping down most surfaces. He was mortal. And older. And he moved with a stiff leg. If it came to a fight, I could throw his ass out the window, even without my manticore magic.

I went back to staring at the ceiling, disgusted with myself.

Why was I here? If I was lucky, the servant would actually be an assassin come to end me. But fate never much cared for me. I’d probably start to choke, and then this man would leap in to save my life right at the last moment.

When I wanted to live, everything was out to kill me. When I want to die, everything is out to make sure that never happens.

Too bad it couldn’t be that way for Hellion…

“Did you want any of these?” the servant asked.

I just closed my eyes.

A few seconds of silence passed.

“Hey. I said, did you want any of these?”

“I don’t know what they are, and I don’t care,” I growled. “Do whatever you want and get out.”

“Hmpf.” The servant continued around the room, grumbling under his breath, like I couldn’t hear him, even though I damn well could. “Unappreciative. I get up at the crack of dawn, I do. Washin’ soiled bedsheets wasn’t my callin’. This isn’t what I wanted to be when I was a youngin’, yet you don’t see me spittin’ in everyone’s drink.”

The man had the audacity to grumble his way over to my chair and clean around it. If I had still been The Dread Pirate Calisto, this asshole wouldn’t have gotten within ten feet of me.

But I wasn’t that man anymore.

Was I Lynus again?

I closed my eyes, hating the question.

Of course not. Lynus died. Calisto made sure of that. So who was I? What was I supposed to do with the rest of my short life? I’d be dead in a few decades—growing older every day, until I slowly wasted into the ground.

The mansion rumbled.

I opened my eyes. Bits of stone fell from the ceiling as another round of quaking shook the place. The servant man stopped all his bitchin’ and glanced over at me.

“What?” I barked.

“You don’t know what’s goin’ on?” he asked.

I motioned to the chair and then sneered. “Does it look like I’m in the loop?” I hadn’t moved from this spot in over six hours.

“I’ll go find out…”

The servant hurried out of the room. His haste betrayed his fear. I didn’t move. I didn’t care what was happening. Perhaps it was an earthquake—or perhaps the world serpent was nearby. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern me.

But the shaking grew worse.

I waited, breathing softly, as people outside the mansion shouted and called out orders. They were in a panic.

Which meant this wasn’t the world serpent. The Warlord wouldn’t be so reckless, and no one in town would issue orders to contain him. So what was this? The Second Ascension? Probably. Perhaps they really had come to kill me.

I stood from my chair. Just as I did, a window shattered inward. I shielded my eyes, fearful the glass would rob me of my sight. Without my arcanist magic, any injury could be permanent… Arcanist healers could fix me, but my luck wouldn’t allow that to happen.

More windows shattered, and the heat in the room increased at a rapid rate. The rumbling became so bad, I figured the roof would collapse.

Which…

Wouldn’t be so bad. Could Everett really be upset if I died in a heap of rubble? Not the most dignified way to go, but I bet it would be quick.

I stood in the middle of the room, debating with myself. Should I just stay, and let destiny run its course? Or should I exit, and attempt to save myself from the obvious danger?

“Curse the abyssal hells,” I muttered.

I had told Everett I’d be there for him.

Damn him and all the ships at sea.

Frustrated—and angry at myself—I went for the stairs. The whole place shook with enough force that pictures fell off the walls and cracks appeared in the floor. I didn’t care. I went straight for the ground level, near the main road, and leapt over the broken glass from the many windows. The moment I could, I jumped over a windowsill and landed out on the street.

The people of Regal Heights were mostly holed up in their homes. The guards were out, and the hydra arcanists were present on some rooftops, but I didn’t understand what was happening.

Where was the Second Ascension?

Then I turned and lost all my breath.

A gargantuan hydra slammed its body into the side of the stone mansion. It was one of the most colossal creatures I had ever laid eyes on—it had to be a god-creature, just like the world serpent, the fenris wolf, and the soul forge.

The beast had dark green and black scales, and its long tail ended in spines, similar to how a manticore had a scorpion stinger. It crashed through the city, walking along with six thick legs, its claws impressive, but not as awe-inspiring as its many heads.

The damn monster had one dragon head and dozens of smaller snake heads. Perhaps a hundred, I didn’t know. I wasn’t counting.

Was this the typhon beast? It had to be. That was the only explanation for its hydra-like appearance. The typhon beast was some sort of god-creature that had so many heads, its whispering caused insanity.

And the whispers…

I did hear them.

Something about being a monster and changing fate. It almost sounded like my own words pushed back at me. The unsettling thought froze me in my tracks. Glowing runes were on top of each of the snake heads, and they were transfixing to look at.

The mane of snakes lashed about, fighting arcanists and guards alike. The typhon beast vomited fire, but still, I couldn’t seem to move. Actual stone rose up to trap the beast’s legs, but the typhon beast didn’t much care.

The many snakes hissed, their song of hatred intense. Then the dragon head roared. “My arcanist lives! I feel his presence. The Monster. I must find him!”

“W-Wait!” someone shouted. “The Monster is dead! Just like Luvi. He’s not—”

Volke. The Warlord. He was fighting the typhon beast.

The typhon beast broke free of its restraints. It was a force to be reckoned with—stronger than most, and untamable. I could tell by its frenzy and berserker nature. This wasn’t something to be reasoned with.

The typhon beast roared again, sending a shiver down my spine.

But then the dragon turned to me. Its eyes caught mine.

Then the world went silent. The heads stopped their whispers, and the typhon beast ceased its roaring. In that split second, I knew.

This beast had come looking for me specifically.

The only thing I could hear was the beat of my wretched heart. The god-creature was only thirty feet away, yet it didn’t move. Why had it come for me? To kill me?

Then the typhon beast hissed, low and threatening. “There you are. The Monster.”

My heart slammed into my ribs, and somehow, I knew the answer to all my questions.

It wanted to bond with me.

No.

That couldn’t be right.

And as if it could hear all my deepest and darkest musings, it spoke again. “Haunted by dark thoughts… Haunted by terrible memories… You are my arcanist.”

I didn’t want to bond with the typhon beast. I didn’t want any of this. I had told Everett that my life was over—that I didn’t deserve anything. Why would this god-creature come for me? I wasn’t deserving. I wasn’t worth it.

I wasn’t as clever as Theasin, or as noble and just as Volke. I wasn’t the Autarch with his grandness and charisma.

I was…

A murderer. A pirate. A dastard.

The typhon beast reached out with a clawed hand to take me. I turned, intent on running, but the damn monster grabbed me before I could get away. If I still had my manticore magic, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Instead, the fingers of the beast squeezed around my arms and chest, trapping me in place, making it difficult to breathe.

I tried to free myself, but it was pointless.

“Tormented by the past,” the typhon beast said with a dark murmur. “Just like me. Your soul is what I want. I’ve… I’ve come here to find you, as the oldest source of light as my witness.”

“Let me go,” I growled, its words swirling around in my thoughts.

The typhon beast was massive. He lifted me higher off the ground—a good thirty feet—and brought me close to his dragon head. His hot breath washed over me.

“You want redemption? I must… make up for my past… for the terrible memories. You must help me. Only you understand. Child of… Child of…”

Redemption?

Never.

Some deeds couldn’t be forgiven. The Death Lords took delight in that fact. Some of them thrived off the souls of the wicked. If the world was just, I would’ve been sent to the abyssal hells, and my soul consumed by one of their abyssal dragons…

“With the oldest source of light as our witness, I intend to intertwine our destinies.”

Now my soul was tugged from within.

The god-creature wanted to bond. It wanted to intertwine our fates.

It wanted me by its side, to right the wrongs of a thousand lifetimes worth of dastardly deeds.

Did I have the strength to endure all that? I doubted it.

I closed my eyes, hating every moment the god-creature ripped at my soul. The typhon beast roared, his frustration rattling the world around us. But I wasn’t deserving of this—I didn’t have what it took to make the world right. I wanted death. I wanted to give up, and let the darkness finally take me. To end all my suffering.

But Volke… The Warlord…

“Just do it!”

The words caught me off guard.

It was Volke’s voice.

“If you’re not going to die, you might as well live for something! Help us!”

His words lived in my thoughts just as much as Everett’s.

He had been right. I was a coward. I was afraid of living.

And that wasn’t me. It wasn’t Calisto—and it damn sure wasn’t Lynus. I wasn’t going to let fear rule me. If the only path left to me was to make up for all the wrongs I had done, then so be it. I’d pick myself up, dammit, and do this right.

I opened my eyes.

And then I accepted the typhon beast’s offer to bond.

A wave of pure magic washed over Regal Heights. Rocks tumbled into the canyon, the mist cleared for a moment, and the air howled in all directions.

Then the sun disappeared. The whole sky went as black as my soul.

But then a pillar of red light sliced through the darkness, cutting away the void. Was that the symbol of my new path? The light of redemption, come to clear away the inky darkness?

No.

It was just power.

Raw, unfiltered power.

The magic of the typhon beast flooded me, carving up the skin above my heart and marking me with the god-arcanist symbol. The massive hydra-like beast appeared across my chest, shoulder, and left arm. It burned as it appeared, but I relished the sensation.

With power… anything was possible.

Even redemption.

Then the pillar of light vanished. It was jarring to see the sun again.

The entire experience had been surreal.

The typhon beast lowered my body and set me on the road.  I tugged at my clothing, exposing my chest to better observe my mark. A twelve-pointed star.

“A lifetime I have waited,”the beast said with a roar. “Soon, I will have my redemption. Soon, I will erase these haunting memories! We will change the world until it sees!”

I shook for a moment, frightened by the magic that coursed through my veins. It felt like Hellion. Not the same… but similar. I hadn’t expected that.

When the typhon beast stepped close, I didn’t move or shy away. One of the snake heads lowered itself and wrapped around me, the scales smooth and beautiful.

“I am Xor,” the head whispered. “And you are the Monster. Together, we will make things right.”

The Monster.

I had gone by several names in my life, but none seemed as fitting as that one.

I placed an unsteady hand on the snake’s head. The rune etched into the scales pulsed.

“Xor…” The name didn’t feel alien to me. It felt right. But it didn’t matter. “You’ve made a terrible mistake in bonding with me.”

“A thousand mistakes haunt my thoughts, from a lifetime that isn’t mine.” Two more snake heads approached me, each whispering Xor’s words. “But it matters not how I got here. All that matters now is where I go. No longer will I dwell in the darkness of a chasm. Now I will write history worth remembering.”

The beast spoke words that struck me at my core.

I dragged my fingernails down my god-arcanist mark, breaking skin. My blood ran in rivulets, filling the etching of my god-arcanist mark with crimson.

“All right,” I said with a feral smile I couldn’t control. “Then let’s be the best damn god-arcanist and eldrin the world has ever heard of.”

I’d go out in a blaze of glory one way or another. And Xor would help me do that.