Caleb Widogast (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ausgebrannt) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
formmusebox2023-03-04 03:05 am
ausgebrannt) wrote in formmusebox2023-03-04 03:05 am
for Essek (dunamagic)
[Caleb Widogast had given up on the idea of a soulmate. He hadn't wanted to, but his life had taken turns that something so precious as love with the person his soul was fated to complete, he couldn't possibly deserve it. And whatever poor soul had been matched to his, they didn't deserve the mess that he was. Wherever they were, he hoped that somehow they'd found another, even if he knew that wasn't how these things worked. But he did know the silence and that locked away space was empty. So empty.
It hadn't always been.
When he had been young, when he had been Bren, his soulmate had always been there, a familiar shadow he could meet in his mind, in dreams that weren't really dreams, visions that came when he was waking. There was comfort in his soulmate's presence, even if he was only a soft violet shape. He remembers that voice, soft and lilting. A constant presence in his life. They shared each other's distress, and times like that slipping into that shared space to offer what comfort he could, to take what comfort his shadowy soulmate offers, it's the safest he'd ever felt.
Then his entire life had shattered. He'd been drawn into the web of the vicious, plotting spider that was Trent Ikithon and fell apart in his final test of devotion. His psyche and his sanity had shattered. A decade passed before he surfaced once more, fleeing out into the night in desperation.
It's not long before he feels the ache of the lack of his soulmate, and he rties to find that mental space. It's hard, and he can't find his way in easily, and when he finally manages it, it's empty. Worse than empty. It's cold and vacant, like no one has set foot there for years. Ages. But why would they? He's been broken, gone. Hells, he's still broken.
So he concentrates on surviving, not sure if his soulmate is even still alive, and eventually is so swept up in the trouble that the Mighty Nein has stumbled across that he doesn't have much time to think about that ache. The friends he's made help, finding people who genuinely care for him, who he genuinely cares about. He starts living rather than simply surviving, broken though he may be. He starts to think he can make a difference perhaps, and is so caught up in everything that is going on that it nearly knocks him off his feet when all at once, that long-forgotten link lights up with the sudden burst of utter distress.
The fact that it happens as he's standing in the middle of the Bright Queen's palace, holding the Luxon Beacon aloft and offering it back to the Dynasty that it was stolen from. For a moment he forgets to breathe, reaches desperately for that mind space and is denied it once more. No. If the link is still there, then that means. Oh gods that means.
Caleb only hopes that the people around him think the near stupefied expression on his face has to do with the weight of what is going on around them, as the Mighty Nein are released from being held and are welcomed as heroes rather than prisoners.]
It hadn't always been.
When he had been young, when he had been Bren, his soulmate had always been there, a familiar shadow he could meet in his mind, in dreams that weren't really dreams, visions that came when he was waking. There was comfort in his soulmate's presence, even if he was only a soft violet shape. He remembers that voice, soft and lilting. A constant presence in his life. They shared each other's distress, and times like that slipping into that shared space to offer what comfort he could, to take what comfort his shadowy soulmate offers, it's the safest he'd ever felt.
Then his entire life had shattered. He'd been drawn into the web of the vicious, plotting spider that was Trent Ikithon and fell apart in his final test of devotion. His psyche and his sanity had shattered. A decade passed before he surfaced once more, fleeing out into the night in desperation.
It's not long before he feels the ache of the lack of his soulmate, and he rties to find that mental space. It's hard, and he can't find his way in easily, and when he finally manages it, it's empty. Worse than empty. It's cold and vacant, like no one has set foot there for years. Ages. But why would they? He's been broken, gone. Hells, he's still broken.
So he concentrates on surviving, not sure if his soulmate is even still alive, and eventually is so swept up in the trouble that the Mighty Nein has stumbled across that he doesn't have much time to think about that ache. The friends he's made help, finding people who genuinely care for him, who he genuinely cares about. He starts living rather than simply surviving, broken though he may be. He starts to think he can make a difference perhaps, and is so caught up in everything that is going on that it nearly knocks him off his feet when all at once, that long-forgotten link lights up with the sudden burst of utter distress.
The fact that it happens as he's standing in the middle of the Bright Queen's palace, holding the Luxon Beacon aloft and offering it back to the Dynasty that it was stolen from. For a moment he forgets to breathe, reaches desperately for that mind space and is denied it once more. No. If the link is still there, then that means. Oh gods that means.
Caleb only hopes that the people around him think the near stupefied expression on his face has to do with the weight of what is going on around them, as the Mighty Nein are released from being held and are welcomed as heroes rather than prisoners.]
no subject
[And too many of them sit on the Cerberus Assembly, running the Empire and pulling strings that put innocent people in danger. Or worse. The war was causing carnage and lost on both sides. No one would really come out a winner in this, and Caleb knew that.
For the moment he put those thoughts aside.]
Admittedly, I'm also very curious about it myself. The study of magic is... well, it is what drives me through the world.
[For his own reasons of course. He's watching Essek still, his step shifting to bring him closer to the Shadowhand as they walked. The idea of new magic certainly has him acting brighter than he had earlier, though that pain and desperation to find a way to reach his soulmate, to calm that horrible surge of distress still lingers.
Somehow being close to this Essek Thelyss makes it feel better.]
no subject
At least this man proves a good distraction, has his attention despite everything that's happening under his mask.
His purple eyes take in the man next to him - careful not to see too interested, there were others here. The fiery hair, deeply intelligent blue eyes, scruffy and unkempt, yet the bulk at his sides and the familiar beside him...]
Ah, a practitioner of the arcane arts. [His smile is knowing, recognizing a fellow wizard.] Not many have that level of drive -- fewer still for such esoteric magics. Though, that curiosity may not be sated.
no subject
[And nothing will. Caleb is a driven man, a purpose that is held ever close to his heart, scrawled in the second book holstered at his chest, the heartfelt missives to the people he lost at his own hands, the ones that he fully intends to see again once day. He will find that knowledge, that magic, or the search for it will kill him.
Though the idea of death now feels uncomfortable, covered in barbs and thorns as he considers that wave of despair earlier. His soulmate, his other half, is still alive. He can't so easily leave him. Not again.
Still he offers a faintly wry smile.]
Though they do say curiosity kills cats. [And Caleb has a tendency to get along with cats better than people.]
no subject
When he meets Caleb's eyes again, he smiles - enigmatic though it curls wryly at the corners.]
Ah, an Empire saying, yes? Here, we have another. [His words lilt into a fluid and lyrically dark undercommon, before he translates.] A moorbounder's hunger will see it crushed beneath a mastodon's feet.
[Why was he so drawn to this man, his starlit eyes drowning in oceans. That he would almost give this man a warning before his offer, but the words slipped out naturally, like drops of blood from a bleeding heart.
Maybe he was just soft because of the despair that sat heavy on his chest.]
But, should you.. prove yourselves worthy of the Dynasty's favor, [he looks at everyone,] perhaps then avenues of your.. curiosity might become available.
no subject
The Zemnian wizard offers a faint smile in return, but there's a genuine earnestness to it.]
Ja, I think that is a similar sentiment.
[And one that Caleb knew. His ambition had caused so much pain and suffering, had led to nothing but mistakes and regret. He'd like to think he's learned some lessons form that, but that does remain to be seen.]
One can hope. And I do hope that we can prove our willingness to be useful to the Dynasty.
no subject
If not for needing to get close and control these people, he might not ever tempt Caleb so, but if he was interested in the mysteries of Dynasty magic, then Essek was not above dangling the bait for him. A hungry moorbounder indeed. Though he felt some eyes on him from the rest of the group. Caution, he would have to be cautious.]
I am sure you will. Come, let us finish your business and get you settled.
[He waved a hand and showed them to the cell they desired, listening to everything carefully. Watching everything with keen eyes -- though it was hard to concentrate on the Goblin and her soulmate reunite when he still felt the lingering aches. He itched to reach out to the door, touch it, but he knew better than to hope.
No, even after he saw them to their Inn after freeing the halfling, Essek didn't go into the dusty corner of his mind where his soul longed. He would not bleed again for false hope.]
no subject
He shut his eyes and reached out to try to find his way into that shared space, but still it refused to open to him.
This time it was his despair that would ring out through a connection far too long silent. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please come back. Please.
Eventually sleep claimed him, emotional exhaustion catching up with physical and pulling him under.]