OUTSKIRTS OF CAMELOT
9 years ago...

The last day of normality for Calliope Farrington went like this:

She danced with the rhythm of the smooth breeze beneath a canopy of trees, their spring blossoms thriving in the soft sunlight illuminating the day. Calliope tilted her head toward the sun, bathing in the warmness of the afternoon sky as her blue eyes squinted tightly. She stretched her limbs as high as she could, reaching up to the clouds like the evergreen trees around her. Maybe eventually—after stretching every day—she would grow taller. Being the shortest child in her village was a constant distress for Calliope. She wanted to be tall like her father, but no matter how long or how high she stretched her short limbs, they didn't seem to grow at all. Not even an inch.

Was she doomed to be small forever? What a nightmare.

Calliope opened her bright eyes as she relaxed her muscles. She leaned down over the forest floor, admiring the recent creation below her. She had used a thin stick to draw a picture in the dirt of the blue jay she spotted sitting outside her bedroom window earlier that morning. Calliope loved birds; she loved hearing their sweet melodies echo through the dense woods, reverberating through the leaves and branches. Calliope wished she could sing like the birds. She wished she could grow wings and soar above the trees.

She had a creative imagination.

"Calliope!" She dropped the stick in her hands and brushed the thin dirt off her fingers. "Where are you, Calliope?" She jumped to her feet, turning her head.

"Over here!"

A wide grin lifted Calliope's young face when she saw her mother's slim figure approaching her, "What have you gotten yourself into now?" Her voice was like honey; she could sing as pretty as the birds.

Proudly, Calliope pointed below her, "I drew you a picture."

Quirking her eyebrows with curiosity, Calliope's mother came closer to investigate the picture. Calliope leaned into her mother's side as they looked down at the drawing of the blue jay

"It's the blue jay," her mother smiled. "You are a wonderful artist, Calli."

The compliment made Calliope's spirit leap with happiness, "I gave him a name."

"You did?"

Calliope titled her head to sky as if she was expecting to see the bird to come swooping down, "I named him Freedom."

"Why did you name him that?"

"Well, because he can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants. He can fly and sing... He can do everything!"

Calliope's mother laughed lightly, "Freedom is a wonderful name for our little friend."

After admiring the drawing for a few more moments, Calliope's mother lightly nudged her daughter towards the path back to the village. Looking at the picture one last time, Calliope turned and sprinted to her mother with laughter. They chatted about Freedom as they walked. Calliope hoped he would return to her window in the morning.

When they arrived at their small village that sat in the rolling hills of Andor, Calliope ran into her house, swinging the wooden door open. Her house was made up of three small rooms—two bedrooms and a kitchen—and was identical to almost every other house that stood around it.

Calliope spotted her father opening the back door. He came inside with a bag of grain slung over his shoulder. Every other week, he ventured from their quaint village on a trip to Camelot; the grandest city in the Five Kingdoms. He would come back with enough supplies to last them until his next trip, where he would sell the fruits and vegetables grown in the garden behind their house. Calliope loved their garden; she loved waking up each morning in the spring to see the tomato plants inch up their stalks and the grapevines entangled in the white fences. Then, when the fruits and vegetables were ripe enough, she would grab a woven basket and trot through the garden as she plucked them from their stems, popping one into her mouth occasionally.

"Dad!" Calliope lurched towards him. "Guess what I drew today?"

Calliope's father looked down at her with a smile as she kept her thin arms around his waist, "What did you draw?"

"I drew Freedom!"

He looked to his wife for an explanation which she offered with a keen grin, "The blue jay that sits outside her window in the morning."

"Oh," Calliope's father turned his attention back to his daughter. "I'm sure it was a wonderful picture."

One more smile flashed over Calliope's face. She let go of her father's waist and sat down at the wooden table in the kitchen. She listened as her parents talked.

"How was your trip to Camelot?"

"It was fine. I stopped to see Gaius."

"Gaius? How is he doing? I haven't seen him in years."

"He's very well."

The name Gaius sounded familiar to Calliope, but she couldn't place a face with the name. She brushed it off, jumping up to run to the window by her quaint bed in the corner of her room. She gazed out the window at the towering mountains in the distance. She wondered if Freedom was flying over those mountains.

If he was, would he be back tomorrow? Or would he find a new home amongst the wide castle-like peaks? Calliope sighed.

"If only I could be a bird."

♛ ♛ ♛

The deep pounding of hooves against the tough dirt didn't wake Calliope. She stayed in a peaceful state of sleep until an ear-shattering scream jerked her out of her slumber. The young blonde quickly adjusted her eyes to the darkness of her room. She tentatively placed her toes on the cold wood, peering her head into her parents' room. Her heart lurched in fear when they weren't in their bed.

Another scream.

Calliope jumped from the jolting sound. Fear was telling her to lie back down, but Calliope didn't listen. She slowly inched towards the front door, turning the handle slowly and pushing it open. The door groaned softly as she stuck her head into the night.

Her heart almost stopped.

Men on tall horses surrounded the villagers. There were too many for Calliope to count. They had weapons—swords and axes. Some of them carried torches that were ablaze with orange heat. Calliope watched in terror as one of the men jumped down from his large horse and started approaching someone: her father.

"It has been brought to my attention that someone in this village is harboring a warlock," the man's voice was deep. It rattled Calliope's bones. "Everyone knows King Uther has outlawed the use of magic, and the penalty of disobeying this is death."

"You have the wrong information," her father said in a pleading voice. "No one in this village has ever used magic."

"The penalty of hiding someone with magic is also death," the man looked her father up and down. "I am sure there is a warlock in this village, and if none of you come forward, we'll kill all of you!" A heavy silence fell over the villagers as the man walked around slowly. "So, does anyone feel like confessing now?"

The villagers looked around at each other, but Calliope's eyes were focused on her mother and father as she held her breath; her heart beating so loud she was afraid the man would hear.

The man pulled out his sword; the silver blade reflecting the harsh torchlight. A cruel expression lined his face as he grabbed a woman from the group and pulled her forward. Calliope recognized her as their neighbor, Gina.

"I'm going to count to three, and if no one comes forward, I will slit her throat, and then I will give my men the order to execute the rest of you!"

"No," Calliope whispered as a tear ghosted her pale cheek.

"One."

Calliope's heart was beating even louder.

"Two."

This couldn't be happening. She was so afraid, but she couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Thr—"

"Wait!" Calliope's fear intensified when her father stepped forward. "Please, please let her go, and I'll tell you the truth."

"William, no—" her mother tried to protest, but her father put his hand on her shoulders.

"It'll be alright, Rose. I have to do this."

Calliope forgot how to breathe as she watched her father face the man who still had his sword pressed to Gina's neck. She gripped the doorpost so hard that her knuckles started to turn white.

Then, he said the unthinkable.

"It's me. I'm the warlock."

A quiet sob filtered from Calliope's lips as she started to lose feeling in her legs. She leaned against the doorpost for support as the man shoved Gina to the ground.

The man gave her father a nod, "Thank you for your honesty."

A small glimmer of hope that her father would walk away with his life was crushed when the man shoved his sword into her father's chest. Calliope's world stopped spinning as she fell to her knees. Her mother's deep cry of intense pain ripped away at Calliope's heart. Tears flowed from her eyes like a waterfall as her chest clenched in a terrible way that she had never felt before.

"Every single one of these people are guilty of harboring that warlock. Kill them all!"

Widening her teary eyes, Calliope fell back as the men started cutting down every person in their path; screams of death and destruction mixing in the night air. Some of the men still on horseback started setting fire to every house. She saw one coming towards her, and Calliope forced herself to her feet. She ran out of her house into the chaos.

She looked around. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. People she knew; people she grew up with were being killed one after another as their blood splattered onto the dry ground. Every house was lit up in an angry fire. It was so hot that beads of sweat formed on Calliope's forehead. She could feel the intense heat around her as if it was consuming every part of her. Smoke began to infiltrate her lungs—she coughed several times and felt dizzy—but her gaze was scanning every direction for her mother.

"Mom!" She yelled through a wall of tears. "Mom!"

"Calliope!" She snapped her head to the left. Her mother was struggling against the man that killed her father. "Calliope! Run! Run!"

Calliope's entire body was urging her to run to her mother; not away from her. She watched in terror as the man threw her mother on the back of his horse.

"No!" Calliope couldn't bear to lose her mother too. "No!"

She ran as fast as her short legs could carry her as the man turned around to look at the child sprinting up to him. A sly smirk covered his face as if he was amused by her pain. He jumped onto his horse and began to ride away with Calliope's mother.

Calliope still chased after him, "Mom! Mom!"

But eventually, the horse rode out of sight with her mother.

Calliope could barely breathe. The smoke from the fire and the emotional weight on her body was enough to take all her strength. With tears still streaking down her ash-covered face, she turned to her home.

The screaming had stopped. All the men were riding away on their horses; their blades dripping with blood. Calliope walked slowly to the middle of the village amongst the roaring flames. The only sound amongst the blackness of the night was the crackling fires. Calliope felt her foot get caught on a woman's lifeless body, but the numb sensation in her bones refused to let her acknowledge it.

She eventually found her father lying on the ground, crimson blood in a pool underneath him. Calliope sank to her knees, laying her head on her father's chest and letting out a sob so loud that it shook the ground beneath her.

Looking around, Calliope was unaware of what had caused the rumble of the Earth below her, but at the moment, that little detail didn't matter. She was too consumed with grief to care.

Calliope leaned over her father's body still in shock; still rattled with a crushing weight of sadness and anger.

Then, in the midst of the smoke and the flames, a quiet chirp emerged. Calliope looked up, and there came the blue jay she drew in the dirt flying towards her.

Freedom landed on her father's leg. He looked at Calliope, letting out another quick chirp. Calliope gently stuck out her hand, carefully moving it closer to the bird. The blue jay kept looking at her as Calliope placed a small finger on his head, stroking his feathers lightly. After another chirp, Freedom flew away.

And Calliope was left alone in her desiccated village as the only survivor.

graphic by sixty6ix