CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
BLOOD OATH ( iii. )

THE CONCLUSION

Arthur still cradles Calliope's head in his hands.

Everything else around him fades into nothingness as her blood stains the marble alter. How could he have let his happen? Her eyes are shut, her chest still. His hands shake as tears fall from his eyes. It feels as if someone has punched a hole right through his aching heart. It's a burning, overwhelming pain of grief and regret and lost love. The reality of her being the Red Dragon doesn't even matter to him in this moment. He just wants her back. He'll do anything to have her back.

But, in the midst of his grief as he still tries to process her death, the gem in the middle of the dagger begins glowing a horrible black color; darker than any black he has ever imagined.

The gems on the alter start glowing as well. Three out of the four have this evil, black presence. But the fourth gem...is a faint white with tendrils of grey circling within it.

Arthur turns to Merlin, his vision blurry with tears, "What's happening?"

"I-I don't know," then, Merlin eyes widen. "Arthur."

The prince turns his head, and his blood goes cold. The two assassins have woken up, and they stand in the way of a safe exit. Arthur grabs his sword and faces them,

For Calliope, he thinks before lunging himself into battle.

♛ ♛ ♛

Berbay odothay arisan yeldo.

Merlin's voice echoes in Calliope's head. The spell reverberates through her, coaxing her towards its origin, and when her eyes finally snap open, she is surrounded by a hall of darkness.

Calliope sits up, her hand going to her chest where she had stabbed herself. Nothing. Snow crunches underneath her as she shifts, wondering what lies with her in this vast, cold void. Is this what death is?

Forcing herself to stand, she looks around in every direction, but all she can see is a snowy darkness. There has to be a way to figure out where she is. Maybe in a plane between life and death itself. She has never put much belief in a life after death, but here in this hollow place, she hopes there is more waiting for her than just this frozen expanse of ice and trickling snow kissing her skin.

The hairs on the back of her neck rise when she feels an ominous presence growing closer and closer. She is no longer alone, and she's almost too scared to look and see what evil awaits her.

There, standing before her in the snow, are the three blood wraiths in their black, tattered cloaks. Their skin is a pale white, cracked with large wrinkles. They exude terror itself.

Calliope swallows, taking a step back, every muscle in her body going rigid.

"It seems you have trapped us here, Red Dragon," the one in the middle says through his cloaked face, "but your soul is tangled with ours in the dagger."

"The blood oath is broken," she responds in a strong voice. "Your grip on the world is gone."

"And you really are prepared to pay the price?" Another says, his voice creeps up her spine like a spider. "To spend eternity with us?"

"I will do whatever it takes."

A chilly laugh escalates in the air, "You're a fool, Calliope Farrington. Love has made you weak. You could have done great things with the immortality we offered you, and yet, you throw it all away to save some useless humans."

One more time. All Merlin had to do was say the spell one more time and the blood wraiths will be sucked down to the underworld. What is he waiting for?

"But do not fret, Red Dragon," the third one smiles evilly. "We have so much planned for you. So much suffering."

Calliope has never been so afraid, but she stays strong for these last final moments that her soul hangs onto the world through the lifeline of the dagger. She is saving Arthur and Merlin and Gaius and Gwen and Morgana. They can all continue to live their lives in Camelot, and this evil will be wiped away from the world forever.

Then, finally, she hears the sorcerer's voice rise again.

Berbay odothay arisan yeldo.

A great wind roars through the darkness—a stronger wind than Calliope has ever felt. The snow underneath her feet begins to crack. The splinters in the ground spread like veins and grow wider and wider. She jumps from rock to rock, each one falling away below her to the endless void of black.

One by one the blood wraiths are swept away into the hollow, chilling void. She feels it gripping her. The wind threatens to knock her over, and then, a cold hand wraps around her ankle.

Calliope falls, clutching onto the snowy rock. The final blood wraith has its skeletal hand around her foot. She tries to kick it away, but it won't let go.

"You think you can escape us?" The wind howls, her fingers start to slip. "We own your soul!"

"Not anymore," her head shoots up. A small cry escapes her lips, partly of relief and joy. There he stands—her father. "Go rot in the hell you came from."

And then, her father kicks the blood wraith with all his strength, grabbing Calliope and yanking her away from its grasp. The blood wraith falls and falls into the void, and just before it takes them too, Calliope and her father are spirited away.

Calliope keeps her eyes shut as she clutches onto her father. She doesn't open them for several moments, until she hears the faint chirping of birds and mixing of happy voices. The blonde tentatively opens one eye, and then, she is filled with awe.

All around her is her old village, but it is not dilapidated ruins. Instead, it is buzzing and full of life with beautiful gardens and soft sunlight and smiling faces. And she stands in her house; the house she grew up in, with her father beside her.

She turns to take him in. His brown hair and scruffy face and kind, blue eyes. Tears well in her eyes—happy tears.

She throws her arms around him, "Dad," she cries into his chest. "You're here. You're really here."

He hugs his daughter back tightly, stroking her hair, "I couldn't let those blood wraiths take my Calli."

Her eyebrows furrow as she pulls back to look at him, "Am I...dead? Is this some sort of heaven?"

"Your soul is still trapped in the dagger," he explains. "I don't think the dragon under Camelot told you everything, did he?" Calliope shakes her head, and her dad motions to their kitchen table. "You might want to sit down for this."

Nervously, she takes a seat across from her father, and he clears his throat, "The dagger is called Deathbane. It can trap the soul of any immortal being and with the spell your friend used, it can send them back to their origins; however, when the blood oath was broken, you lost your ties to immortality."

"What does that mean?"

"The dagger does not know where to send you," her father answers. "The blood wraiths tried to pull you to the Underworld, but instead, I pulled you here—to the last flickers of your own consciousness that are in the dagger."

Calliope inhales sharply, "So, this is all in my own head?"

"Yes."

Trying to process everything, Calliope leans back in the chair, "Well, what happens now? Is my soul just going to stay trapped in the dagger forever?"

"That is up to you," her father says. "In order to show Deathbane your true home is the realm of the living, you must let go of the thing that haunts you the most," her eyes meet his. "You must let go of your revenge."

Her revenge? How would she even do that? She has already killed all of the people in the raiding party except one.

"Let me show you something."

Without warning, her father puts both of his hands around her head. She gasps as scenes unfold before her.

Scenes of Sepharin.

She sees him before he was an assassin when he had a family; a wife and two sons. He was happy and good, a farmer in a village much like her own. Then, she watches as a man who the village payed to protect them from the outside world turns on them for not having enough money for his services. Sepharin tries to defend his family, but the man kills everyone, even his two sons, and leaves Sepharin bleeding in the dirt.

The last image she gets before she is pulled out of the memory is a tattoo. A phoenix tattoo.

On Sepharin's right wrist.

Calliope is jerked out of the memory, her eyes wide, "It's him," she says breathlessly. "It's always been him."

"He was able to hide the tattoo with the powers the blood wraiths gave him," her father says. "The people that come into their services don't come by accident. They want people who are powerful, and Sepharin is the one who finds those people and ensures they come running to him—to the blood wraiths, for revenge."

Anger boils within her. All this time—all these years— Sepharin is the man she's been searching for. The man who led the raiding party and killed her father, and he orchestrated her entire life so that she would want revenge— so that she would do anything for it. Including selling her soul away to the blood wraiths.

Calliope's eyes lift from the table, her fists clenching, "And what am I supposed to do about all of this? Let him live? Is that what Deathbane wants in exchange for my life back?"

"Dark and light swirl together in the gem," her father answers. "Let the light win."

"How?"

"Focus on it," her father grabs her hand, a loving smile on his lips. "And if it's enough to drown out the dark, you will wake up."

Calliope squeezes his hand, "What if I want to bring you with me?"

A small chuckle leaves his lips, "I found my peace, Calli, and now, I only hope you can find yours."

She nods, keeping her grip on his hand steady as she closes her eyes and tries to visualize the light and dark within the gem. She can see the two opposites swirling, fighting for dominance.

With a long exhale, she lets her heart become shrouded in everything she loves. Her father is her anchor as she lets memories of her childhood flash around her mind. I'm ready to let go of my anger. She sees her mother's smile and the melody of her soft voice. She sees Gaius in his chambers, and Merlin as they all laugh and eat dinner together. She sees Gwen and Morgana and their passing conversations and friendship.

The light in the gem starts to push the darkness out, but it's not enough. Not yet.

Calliope feels a warmth expand in her chest when she lets memories of Arthur envelope her thoughts. Every moment they have ever shared—from their first meeting all the way to their final kiss of goodbye—plays out before her in a blur of memories. The light grows and grows pushing out all the tainted hatred and anger and pain of her past. The last tendrils of darkness are at the very edge of the gem.

And then, the gem explodes.

♛ ♛ ♛

When the alter where Calliope's body rests on is enveloped in a blinding light followed by an ear-shattering clash, it gives Arthur and Merlin the chance they need to kill the two assassins attacking them. When they fall, it confirms that the blood wraiths are back in the Underworld. The prince and the sorcerer have to keep their eyes covered as the light gets brighter, neither one of them having any idea what could be happening.

Finally, the light begins to dim, and Arthur slowly puts his arm down. He rushes to the alter with Merlin right beside him and scans over Calliope's face. The dagger that was once in her chest is no where to be seen. Her shirt is still caked in blood and her features remain unmoving. He waits, breathing heavily, his heart pounding against his chest.

Her sky-blue eyes snap open, a loud gasp leaving her lips. Calliope breathes heavily, clutching her chest as she sits up, looking down at the blood-stained marble. I'm alive. Those two words echo and echo in her mind.

Then, her head turns. One look at Arthur Pendragon is all it takes for her to cover her mouth as a choked sob leaves her lips. He crashes into her in a hug so fierce that he may never let go.

"I'm okay," she says through her tears. "I'm okay."

"I thought I'd lost you," he breathes in her scent, relief flooding through his every vein.

The amount of emotional turmoil each of them has just experienced is enough to make them feel like passing out from exhaustion then and there.

Calliope pulls away, wiping a tear from his cheek before leaning over to give Merlin an equally tight hug.

"What happened to you?" Merlin asks.

She shrugs through a small laugh, "I'm still not entirely certain. My soul was trapped in the dagger, and I guess I fought hard enough to be brought back."

With another wave of emotion, she pulls both of them to her again, squeezing the two boys in another hug.

"Never do that again," Arthur says in a breathless voice.

Calliope smiles, holding out her pinky, "Pinky swear."

The prince chuckles as he wraps his pinky around her own.

This has been one of the worst few days of Calliope's life, and she really needs a bath and a very long nap. Arthur and Merlin help the blonde off the alter, her chest still feeling a little sore from where she literally stabbed herself.

They gather their weapons and then they don't look back as they exit the caves. Calliope does wonder what could have happened to the dagger. Did Deathbane hide itself again? This time, a place where no one could find it? It took the blood wraiths out of the world, but it is also has the power to bring them back into it. The dagger seems to have its own mind, and maybe it realized this fact and now is hidden in some impossible maze no one will ever navigate through. Good, Calliope thinks. No one needs to find it again.

When they walk out of the caves, Calliope is met with the day fading, nightfall inching closer. She breathes in the sweet scents of the valley, still in shock she lived through everything that just happened to her.

She turns, opening her mouth to say some clever remark, but her grin fades.

Right at the entrance to the caves Sepharin stands, his blade right against Prince Arthur's throat with Merlin knocked out behind him. Calliope freezes, and she immediately pulls out her sword.

"You know, Calliope, you are an extremely frustrating person," he says, his usual smirk present on his face.

"Let him go, Sepharin," she demands. "The blood wraiths are gone. Your power is gone. It's over."

The prince winces as the blade is pressed tighter against his neck, "The dagger. Where is it?"

"Gone."

He shakes his head with a deep laugh, "I have a hard time believing anything you say. After all, you did promise to kill the prince, and yet," Arthur's eyes widen as Sepharin has him in his grasp. "Here I am, about to do the dirty work for you."

And now, everything is out in the open.

Calliope grips her sword harder, "When the dagger brought me back it disappeared. I have no idea where it is. I'm telling the truth."

The assassin sighs, "Well, then I guess there's only one thing left to do. In the style of tradition..." Sepharin reaches forward, yanking off Arthur's right gauntlet and throwing it to Calliope's feet. "You and me, little dragon. To the death."

"Calliope, don't—"

Sepharin punches Arthur in the jaw to silence him, "Shut up, pretty boy. I'm very anxious to see what your murderous girlfriend decides," he leans closer to his ear. "She's been wanting to kill me for a long time now."

"Leave him out of this," Calliope glances between Sepharin and the gauntlet. It seems to be her only choice.

"This moment has always been inevitable. You and me and a bloody end," his eyes glint in anticipation.

The blonde makes her choice and leans down, letting her hands wrap around the gauntlet as she picks it up, staring down Sepharin.

His lips turn up in a wicked grin. Sepharin shoves Arthur away, and before he can make a move to lunge at him, the assassin smacks him in the head with the hilt of his sword. The prince falls to the ground beside Merlin, unconscious.

"To hinder any...interference."

The two assassins, the most brutal fighters in the entire world, face each other. Calliope tears through any fear or hesitation in her mind and focuses on her opponent—every small twitch of his muscles and the way he shifts his weight. They circle each other in a cruel dance.

"I know what you did," Calliope starts, unable to hide the anger in her voice. "I know you were the one who led the raiding party that night."

Her eyes move to the phoenix tattoo on his wrist. He doesn't have the power to hide it now, "Ah, the dagger showed you dear old Dad, did it?" She knows what he's trying to do. He's trying to make her so angry that she will fight out of emotion.

She nods, turning the tables, "I saw more than that. Your sons looked just like you, and your wife...she was so beautiful."

CALLIOPE AND SEPHARIN FINAL SHOWDOWN SCENE MUSIC
listen if you want to be dramatic

https://youtu.be/zP_lAuTRRCI

The expression on his face turns downcast. Her own lips turn up at the flicker of emotion she was able to evoke from him, "Everything I've ever done has been for them— to avenge them," he motions to Calliope with the sword. "You and I, we're the same in that way."

Calliope clenches her jaw, "You're wrong."

"Am I?" He shouts. "Well, let's find out, shall we?"

A startling step forward from Sepharin catches her by surprise. He swings his sword near her stomach, and she parries the blow with her own blade, steel singing through the night air.

The assassin laughs cruelly as he swings again with all his strength. Calliope's blade blocks a deadly attack near her neck. With each slash of his sword, he steps forward, causing her to retreat back, her body not fully balanced. He has broken her stance, putting her on a strictly defensive front until they are all the way back into the trees.

Calliope's eyes widen as she sees his blade coming for her head. She ducks, the steel slicing against a tree trunk instead, "You forget, little dragon," he says, his sword meeting wood again, smirking at her constant dodges. "I taught you everything you know."

Sepharin pushes her deeper into the woods. She's barely able to get in a good swing of her own. Even without his immortality, he's stronger than her. She has to get the upper hand of the fight somehow.

High ground. He may be stronger, but she's quicker. She needs to use the terrain to her advantage. After dodging another blow, her eyes search and search through the forest looking for something—anything. Then, she spots a wide, fallen tree that acts as a long bridge between two slabs of earth, and below is a fall that would at least break your leg, if not kill you.

Blocking his next attack, she uses as much strength as she can muster to bring their swords down, elbowing him in the face and then sprinting up the hill.

Sepharin spits out a tooth, blood flowing from his mouth, "Clever, but not good enough."

She hears him running after her. Calliope's heart is pounding in her ears as rocks and dirt come loose underneath her feet and topple down the hill. Maybe, at least, the trek will tire him enough for her to get one, good blow.

The blonde reaches the top of the hill. She tightens her core muscles, allowing her smaller figure to play to her advantage as she balances perfectly on the tree trunk. Calliope turns, sword pointed forward, as Sepharin walks onto the wood, eyes narrowing. She takes a few more steps back until they are right in the middle; above a terrifying drop with the setting sun creating a subtle hue of red around them, like the universe knows blood will be spilled here—the sky is waiting to see which assassin it will claim.

The wind howls around them, and Sepharin throws out his arms, "So, this is where you want to die?"

She doesn't let him strike first this time. Calliope cries out as she brings her blade on him, fast and coordinated. Holding her stance strong, she presses forward slicing her sword in all different directions. She turns to the side, her blade above her head as she blocks another attack. Calliope jumps up, landing on her toes as she uses her momentum to make him stumble back, struggling to regain his balance.

Sepharin looks at her with wide eyes. She bends her knees, firm on the trunk—the hilt of her sword is drawn into her chest, the sharp tip pointing right at him, "Impressive," he says, "but it still won't be enough to save you."

"We'll see," she answers, extending her hand and beckoning him closer.

He takes her challenge, lunging across the trunk. Sword meets sword in a loud clash that causes any animals nearby to scatter. Her footwork is as flawless as a rehearsed dance as they move further down the tree trunk, towards the other side of the forest. But, Sepharin knows her fighting style better than anyone. She learned it from him. Calliope hisses in pain when his sword slices across the wound Lawren caused earlier, warn blood trickling down her arm and onto her hand, dripping and dripping onto the wood beneath her feet.

She fights through the pain, kicking him back a few paces. He nearly falls off the trunk, barely able to recover by the time she descends onto him. She cries out with each angered blow, her rage for him fueling her strength.

As they near the other side of the forest, Sepharin brings his blade up, catching her chin with the end of the handle. Calliope gasps as she loses her footing, the irony taste of blood on her tongue. Her back collides with the trunk, and her sword falls away to the rocks below. The clattering of metal ricocheting from the drop. She stares down, breathing heavily at the loss of her weapon. What now?

Sepharin stands over her, victory within his grasp. He raises his sword—

She brings her feet up, kicking his chest before he can inflict the final blow, and then she heaves them over her head, rolling off the trunk and jumping to regain her balance. When her feet are on steady ground, she takes a moment to gather herself, and then, Sepharin is charging at her again.

"You cannot kill me!" he yells with his next blow. Calliope gasps as his fist collides with her face, and then her stomach. "I made you into what you are!"

A cry of pain comes out of her throat as he punches her again and again. She tries her best to duck and dodge, but his fists are everywhere she turns. Calliope's face is bruised and bloody. Her vision begins to blur, her feet wobbling.

And with one final punch to her throat, Calliope falls back, her body thudding against the dirt. She struggles to breathe, watching as he leans over her, his sword pressed to her chest.

"After I kill you, I'm going to kill your prince, and then, I'm going to find the dagger and bring the blood wraiths back," she shakes her head a hoarse 'no' amongst her heaves for air. "You see, I have a little deal with them. After I give them a certain amount of souls, they will bring my family back to me, and I will not let you get in the way of that."

In that moment, as his sword is right above her heart, she realizes they are the same, just not in the way Sepharin thinks. They both have been exploited by dark magic, taking advantage of their vulnerability and willingness to do anything to right the wrongs done to them. All in the name of revenge. No matter the cost. As far as it takes.

A tear cascades down her cheek. Her voice is barely audible, "Killing me won't bring them back. Nothing will—not even the blood wraiths. They're just using you for their own ends."

But, he's too far in to listen to reason. Sepharin just shakes his head, "You know nothing about my family, Calliope."

Her fingertips reach for anything she can use against him, and then, as he is caught up in his own emotions, her palm clasps around a rock. Calliope doesn't hesitate. She slams the rock into the side of his head, and Sepharin falls back in shock, dropping his blade.

Calliope grabs his sword, and as he tries to lunge for her again, the tip pierces his side. Sepharin gasps, his hands holding the bleeding wound as he sinks to his knees.

The blonde puts his own sword to his throat, her eyes locking with his, "Get it over with then," he spits at her.

She can see herself doing it; ending his life. He may very well bleed out anyway, but her blow didn't hit any vital organs.

Calliope remembers her time with her father when her soul was trapped in the dagger. She remembers how she let go of her revenge and chose to follow a better path. Killing Sepharin now would only continue this viscous cycle of vengeance. It won't bring anyone back. It won't solve anything. It will only give her another black stain around her heart.

So, Calliope lowers the blade, "No," she says. "You will leave Camelot and never return. You will never come for me or the people I love again. If you do, we'll be back here, and I will not spare you twice," he looks at her in unbelief. "The dagger and the blood wraiths are gone, Sepharin. You have a second chance now. We both do."

"I trained you well, little dragon" he says through a strained voice, struggling to hold on to his consciousness. "Though, I don't remember mercy being in one of our lessons."

"I didn't need you for that," she answers. "In fact, I don't think I'll ever need you again."

And then, as she turns to leave him bleeding and on his knees, the assassin says one last thing, "I sold your mother to a slaver named Drak. That was eight years ago," Calliope looks over her shoulder. "No word of her has come since."

Gripping the sword in her hands, Calliope swallows, giving him a final nod, "Goodbye, Sepharin."

She leaves him at the edge of the hill alone amongst the songs of nightfall, and for once, the haunting ghosts of her past do not follow.

♛ ♛ ♛

OMG, that was a lot. my brain is fried, and i'm going to sleep. i hope everyone enjoyed these past 3 chapters and getting to see the conclusion of sepharin and calliope.
PART ONE has 2 chapters left, which will follow episode 13 of the show. we will also deal with the fallout of everything that just happened and you will find out where arthur and cal stand with their relationship.

until next time, remember to vote and leave your thoughts in the comments :)