Spellbinders Secret

The Price of Life

Callum rips away from me and bolts into the ballroom, flinging the door open with me following behind, still feeling light headed. In the centre of the ballroom a crowd has gathered around a figure. Callum rushes forward, pushing and shoving past the people in the crowd, apologising as he does, until he reaches whoever's in the middle. I try to follow him, but get caught up in the crowd.

"What? A party? And I wasn't invited? Such a shame..." a cold voice sneers. I manage to reach the inner rings of the circle when I hear Callum say, "Arran?"

I look at the two people in the circle. One is Callum, and my heart flutters at the sight of him, but the other is... Callum? No, he has brown hair and hazel eyes, but his features are older, sharper... crueller. Callum runs towards the other man and gives him a hug.

How could Arran be alive? He died three years ago. All they found was a.... oh no.

All they found was a bloodied pile of clothes.

No body.

It's like an old saying Clark had;
'Don't assume something's dead until you find a body, and even then, be on guard.' Paranoid, perhaps, but completely true.

I watch on as Callum embraces his brother. "I missed you so much," he whispers, still not letting go. I know I should be happy for Callum, but something's off about this guy. I don't trust him, and all of my instincts are telling me to scream for him to run, when I see it. The glint of polished steel, sharpened to a horrifying point, but before I can warn him, Arran stabs Callum in the stomach and, with a flick of his wrist, sends Callum flying across the room until he smacks against the wall.

That was all it took for all hell to break loose. The guests run around like mad chickens, screaming and trying to find the doors. Guards enter the room, making the situation a thousand times worse. And yet, with all these people, no one notices my dying Prince, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed and barely breathing.

Immediately, I rush towards him, kneeling next to him. Callum's eyes snap open. My heart aches from seeing him in so much pain, but I refuse to sit here and let him die. Quickly, like ripping a band aid off, I pull the dagger out of his stomach. He yelps in pain as I whisper reassurances to him. My hands are covered in blood. His blood. Instinctively, I look for something to stop the bleeding. My eyes land on the silky material of my dress, and, before I know it, I'm ripping the skirt up into bandage- like strips. Callum watches me work, his face growing ever pale as time passes.

"It's such... a shame. It... was... a nice-" he pauses for a moment, gritting his teeth, before continuing. "Dress."

I want to tell him not to worry about the stupid dress, but I think it's his way of distracting himself. I place my hands over the neat, gaping cut in his stomach. I pull his shirt up and place my hands on the wound, searching for the now familiar moon magic within me. It could heal him, I know it could.

But my heart sinks like a stone in the ocean when I pull my hands away to reveal a still bleeding cut in his stomach.

"Why didn't it work?" I gasp in horror. My heartbeat increases, pounding against my temple. I feel sweat gather on my forehead as I search for a way to make him better, to bring him back to me, but I can't. The blade that was used to hurt him is clearly a new and improved version of the one Stephan used. And this time, no power in Celestia or Earth could save him.

"Sweetheart?" an anguished voice calls me. I look up and see Callum staring at me with large, sad eyes. It takes my mind a second to register what he called me. Sweetheart.
"I know that I'm not going to live for much longer. Please, allow me the next few minutes that I have left. Sit on my lap, let me hold you, and please don't protest when I call you Sweetheart," he begs desperately. My heart is a puddle. What was once the shattered fragments of ice, is now a warm puddle of water, melted by Callum. My one and only.