What We Fight For

The world dissolved into a watercolour mess, the edges bleeding into darkness. A ringing filled her ears, a relentless counterpoint to the storm's fury. The pressure on her throat intensified, a searing reminder of her predicament.

"Remember Callista," a voice echoed in the void, faint and distorted like a memory underwater. "The power of the Celestial Plane isn't from the mind, but from the heart. Remember the fire in your heart. Remember the innocents, their lives snuffed out by the fangs of monsters. That is your strength, your purpose."

Callista flinched. Dmitri's voice, even in her fading consciousness? Really? This was it? Her final lesson a recycled pep talk from her overly idealistic Watcher? A sardonic snort escaped her lips. 

She wasn't the hero he envisioned, some shining beacon of virtue. Her motivations were far less… noble. 

Revenge. It had always been revenge, a cold fire that had fueled her every move.  But lately, even that fire flickered, doubts gnawing at its edges.  Were these creatures truly monsters, or simply prisoners to their own biology?

How utterly human.

What was she fighting for then? The once-comforting inferno of revenge now felt like a cold, hollow shell.

A deafening CLANG vibrated through Callista's skull, jolting her awake. The grip on her throat remained, but a sliver of air wormed its way in. Across the battlefield, Damien met Eydis blow for blow, his heavy sword a blur of silver against the storm. His face, etched with a grim fury, was smeared with a crimson that could be his own or hers.

Hope flickered in his eyes as he saw her stir. Silver eyes narrowed with a fierce determination, a guttural roar ripped from his throat as he charged at Eydis. His celestial blade pulsed with an otherworldly light. Eydis conjured a shield to deflect his left blow, but Damien, with a warrior's cunning, materialised a hidden dagger, striking at the Queen's obsidian helmet.  A crack, sharp and sudden, the black glass spiderwebbed.

But victory was snatched away. Before Damien could press another attack, the Queen vanished into the downpour, a phantom in the storm. "Behind!" Callista's scream ripped through the air, a desperate plea lost in the howling wind. 

It was too late. 

Damien spun, blade swinging. The clang he anticipated never came. Instead, a sickening crack echoed through the night, the sound of bone meeting bone with unnatural force. His scream, cut short, was a horrifying counterpoint to the storm's fury. The force of the blow sent a tremor through the very ground, and Damien crumpled instantly.

A primal growl ripped from Callista's throat, a raw eruption of fury and fear. Ignoring the tightening grip around her neck, she lunged at Eydis. Her diamond blades flashed, a desperate flurry against the relentless downpour. Each strike met only the chilling clang of the Queen's impenetrable shield.

She would fight. For Damien, lying crumpled on the rain-slicked stones, his fate uncertain. And for herself, the tightening grip around her neck a constant reminder of her own mortality. It was enough, for now. For survival.

With a rallying cry that echoed through the storm, Callista poured every ounce of her strength into a powerful swing. The dual blades, pulsating with an ethereal light, met her shield. Callista screamed, not just from exertion, but from the celestial energy coursing through her veins, white-hot and blinding. A crack, then an explosion that ripped through the air. Eydis' shield shattered, the force of it slamming into them both.

Callista stumbled back, gasping for breath. Through the haze of pain and adrenaline, she saw Eydis. The Queen stood frozen, an unsettling stillness in her form. As if she was surprised, distracted even.

Seizing the chance, Callista channelled all her remaining energy into her blades. There was no clash, just a horrifying silence as Eydis, with inhuman speed, grabbed the blades with her bare hands. The once-proud weapons dissolved into a million shimmering fragments. Callista's heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Terror choked a single word from her throat - "NO."

Eydis' telekinetic grip slammed into Callista, flinging her across the rain-slicked ground. The world tilted, the sounds of battle fading into a distant hum. She could feel the relentless rain, the distant rumble of thunder, the crackle of flames, and the agonising throb of her injured arm. But the most chilling absence was the sound of approaching footsteps. Yet, with every fibre of her being, she knew Eydis was coming.

Eydis knelt beside her, an elegant figure radiating power that belied the monstrous strength she'd just unleashed. The glass protecting her helmet slowly crumbled, revealing a glimpse of a golden eye that seemed… familiar. A cruel hand, devoid of warmth, wrapped around Callista's throat, squeezing the air from her lungs.

A choked sob escaped her throat, a pathetic sound in the vast emptiness. Her trembling hands fisted around the damp earth.

This was it. The fight was over.

With eyes squeezed shut, Callista braced for the inevitable. But then, a spark of gold pierced the encroaching darkness, a memory as vivid as a dream. Sunlight danced on honeyed hair, a laugh – light and sweet as summer rain – echoed in her ears. Athena.

"There's a hidden sanctuary… I could show it to you… someday."

Athena's voice echoed, laced with a hint of shyness Callista hadn't known Athena possessed. A flicker of something, an emotion she couldn't quite decipher, danced in Athena's golden eyes. Something Callista yearned to understand.

In that instant, a primal instinct roared to life. She wouldn't die. Not yet. Not when the memory of Athena, a lifeline in the black void, pulsed with a fierce insistence on living.

A surge, not of defiance, but of a desperate yearning, fueled Callista's clawing at not just the hand stealing her breath, but at the fading memory, the lifeline tethering her to the world. She wanted to live. She hadn't told Athena...

A sigh of wind, a whisper of lavender, swirled around them. A cruel joke, a final taunt before the inevitable? Or something more? Callista's power pulsed wildly through her veins. The grip on her throat loosened, not because of Callista's own strength, but for some unknown reason.

A startled gasp escaped both Callista, as air flooded her lungs once again, and from Eydis herself. The Queen recoiled, a tremor not just in her hand, but that seemed to run through her very being. Her golden eyes, for a fleeting moment, flickered with uncertainty before she vanished into the darkness completely.

Disbelief warred with relief as Callista pushed herself up. Her body screamed in protest, but compared to the terror she'd just faced, it was a dull ache. Through the haze, she saw strong arms pull her upright. Relief flooded her as she recognized Indigo's face etched with concern. In the distance, another figure knelt beside Damien, checking his vitals. A ragged cough broke the silence, a sound sweeter than any melody.

They were alive. For now.

******

Rain lashed against the windowpane, a relentless echo of the storm that raged within Callista. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, the memory of Eydis' cruel grip a phantom sensation around her throat.

With a sigh, Callista rose, ignoring the dull ache throbbing in her muscles. She needed to move, to expel the lingering terror that coiled in her gut. The training room beckoned, a familiar space that usually offered distraction.

As she pushed open the oak door, Damien met her gaze, his brow furrowed with concern.  "Easy there, Callie," he said, "you should be resting."

Callista scoffed. Resting wouldn't bring back the lost time, wouldn't erase the terrifying vulnerability she'd felt staring into oblivion. "I can't just sit around," she countered, her voice rough with suppressed emotions. "We need to be prepared."

Damien sighed. He drew his practice sword, the familiar weight a comforting constant. "Alright," he conceded. "But go easy. You're still healing."

The clang of steel resonated through the room as they began their dance. Callista attacked with a ferocity that surprised even herself, her movements fueled by a potent mix of frustration and a desperate need to prove something, not just to Damien, but to herself.

Damien parried her blows with practised ease. "Slow down, Callie. Focus on your form."

"Focus?" Callista spat, her voice laced with a raw edge of fear she couldn't quite shake. "How can I focus with that… with her out there?"

Damien lowered his blade, his silver eyes holding hers with unwavering concern. "We'll figure it out, Callie. Together. But right now, you need to be present. Sloppy technique will get you hurt."

Callista took a deep breath, forcing herself to acknowledge the truth in his words. With a renewed focus, she launched another attack, this time measured and controlled. The familiar rhythm of their practice began to soothe the frayed edges of her nerves.

As they sparred, Callista couldn't help but replay the encounter with Eydis. The Queen's inhuman strength, the terrifying ease with which she'd disarmed her…  A shiver ran down her spine.

"You okay?" Damien's voice cut through her thoughts.

Callista blinked, forcing herself to focus on the present. "Just… I don't get it," she muttered, "Why'd she just let us walk away? Twice?"

"Maybe… maybe Amelia recognized you," he mused, a furrow etching his brow. "It might be safer if you lay low for a while, stay away from the academy."

Callista scoffed. "The longer I'm away, the more suspicion I raise," she muttered. The truth that her eagerness to return wasn't just duty. There was an unsettling feeling for Athena, a yearning that seemed to intensify with each brush with death (and there had been many lately).

This was a dangerous game they were playing, one where the future was a cruel mirage, ever-shifting and uncertain.

Screw it all.

With a surge of defiance, Callista turned to the door. "I'm going back," she declared, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hand.

Damien reached out, his grip tightening on her wrist. "Callie, wait!  Think about it! You're walking into a lion's den!"

She met his gaze, a steely resolve hardening her expression. "I can handle myself, Damien. And besides," she added, a hint of a challenge flickering in her eyes, "I have a feeling this isn't over.  We'll be needing that daily training."

Callista swatted Damien's hand away and strode towards the door. It slammed shut behind her with a heavy thud, leaving Damien alone in the echoing training room, his face etched with helplessness.

They had failed, again. But Callista wouldn't give up. Not while there was a chance.

Not while a part of her longed for the infuriating, captivating vampire princess.

Callista wanted to see her.

*****

Three days. Just three days since the icy scythe of death had brushed her. Though physically healed, no visible scars remained to betray the encounter. Callista swallowed, the dryness a counterpoint to the clammy sweat clinging to her palms. With a resolute inhale, she swung open the oak door, the heavy thud echoing through the unnatural stillness of the crimson chamber.

Silence. A silence that screamed of the missing orchestra of moans and gasps, the usual soundtrack to this macabre chamber. A lone figure, bathed in the blood-red glow, snapped her gaze upwards. Golden eyes, molten pools of unsettling allure, pinned Callista with a stare that sent a tremor through her bones.

A glimpse of concern, fleeting as a dying ember, crossed the beautiful face before extinguishing. "Astra," Athena murmured, a mere rustle of breath escaped her lips. Her gaze darted away, unable to meet Callista's for more than a heartbeat.

A cold dread settled in Callista's gut. Had Amelia, or Eydis, revealed everything? Was her fabricated cover story shattered?