Callisto died.
Her body was limp and cold against the stone tiles of the church. Soaking in a pool of her own blood, murdered by soldiers who held mercy not even for the young, elderly, and sick. Her body cold, the blood beneath her warm, but the hatred inside of her ran hotter than the flames of hell.
She had watched everyone she knew be slaughtered, only to wait for her own turn. She couldn't tell if this was her fault, if she should have learned the sword like her adoptive father begged- A time of war is coming, he said. Callisto did not listen, saying she had no need for such a thing. And yet, he was right. An evil had risen like her father had predicted. He died in front of her, his corpse not even more than a few meters away. They slit both her and her father's throats for some sick sacrifice.
If she had another chance- just one more, she'd put those bastards in their place, and whoever ordered this.
Her wishing did not bring the outcome she wanted, no matter how deeply she beckoned to the gods. She could never embrace her father again, who died with tears streaming down his face as he begged for Callisto's life to be spared. To be expected, they did not heed any cries.
Kallan, her father, always warned her. 'Whatever you do, you must survive.' He often said, but in such a way that it almost felt more like a warning. 'Callisto, no matter how desperate you may be, you must run from danger. You cannot allow yourself to die.'
Callisto found herself in an environment she could not quite comprehend, as if she were viewing a memory that was not hers. The winds blowing, she feels the grass between her toes, birds chirp as the smell of summer air wafts into her senses. Her senses comprehended the phenomenon, but her brain could not. Eventually, after staring at what seemed like a blurry mess of a valley, her senses adjust. Mountains tower over her on both sides. The smell of blood starts to seep into her senses, sounds of war, swords clanging and the cries of dying men. She once again finds herself in her village, standing over a corpse of one of the soldiers that had just taken her life.
Terrified, having now found herself holding a weapon- The dagger her father gave her. It was rusty and dull from misuse and lack of care, but something felt different. She felt different. Startled, she looks around. The village square is right behind her, and a couple of soldiers drag corpses out of the tavern to her left before noticing her. A woman is murdered right next to her, the soldier having just lodged his sword into her neck. Callisto panics, falling backwards. Almost as if reality itself is correcting itself, she finds herself back in her feet in an instant, watching the woman died again.
This scene feels familiar. Not familiar because she just watched it happen a second time, but as if she lived this long ago. She lunges at the soldier who just killed the woman, her dagger finding itself in his throat as he throws her off him, grasping at his throat and gurgling on his own blood. The movement she just made felt practiced- even though she never wielded a weapon before outside of what her father made her when she was little.
The soldier falls back, lifeless on the ground. Confusion wells up in Callisto's mind, she doesn't know what's happening. She should be dead, not back here in the village square. Is she back to life? Did she get the second chance she wished for?
She scours her mind for an answer. This doesn't feel real, it feels like a memory, or rather a dream of a memory. Her head snaps to the church in the village square, if this is another chance, can she save her father? She bolts to the church doors, ignoring the death and calamity around her as the village burns to the ground and people are slaughtered. She enters the church, but all she finds is an abyss. She walks inside, sensing water around her feet even though she can't see it. Oddly entranced by the abyss, she walks deeper into it, walking until she finds a mirror.
She peers into the mirror. This isn't herself. No, it is, but she's different. She's scarred, bloody and dressed in armor. It feels familiar, as if she's looking at herself despite the obvious differences. The same pitch-black hair, everything is identical down to the measurements on the nose. Except for that scar. She has a deep scar along her right cheek, reaching from her eyebrow down to her jawline. Her face is covered in grime, as if she's fallen and rolled in the mud. Callisto notices her left eye is a light yellow, it doesn't seem like a scar or injury of any kind, it's as if her eye changed color.
Callisto walks towards the mirror, looking closer at the familiar figure trapped within it. Her fingers slide along the rim of the mirror, before she attempts to place her hand on the mirror, but it slips right into the mirror with a ripple. Startled, she quickly pulls her hand out, flexing her hand before looking back at the mirror and stepping in.
A flood of heat invades her body, now unable to see a thing, her body convulses as she screams in pain. Muscles screeching, flexing and contracting, nerves sounding off every alarm in her body, heart racing and lungs burning, she can't handle the shock as her mind falls deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.
As she comes to, she finds herself back in the church she died in. Her body still warm and stinging from the torture she just went through. Her gaze immediately focuses on Kallan's lifeless face, she sits up slowly, her heart in her stomach. "Dad...?" she beckons, "Wake up..." she takes him into her arms. "No... fuck..." Her stomach churning, hatred brewing deeper and deeper as she rests her head against his forehead. "Please... come back to me." She beckons once more. Despite the sorrow she is experiencing, she can't seem to find it in her to cry. "I won't let them get away with this. I'll kill them all, Dad. I'll live like you wanted me to, so just wake up, please!" Her body trembling, still unable to shed tears. After taking a few deep breaths, she picks him up and rests him on the church pew.
"I'll come back, I swear. Just wait for me, I'll give you a proper burial." She kisses his forehead, grabbing a candelabra and peaking out the back door of the church. It seems there are a few soldiers that are outside still, the sky is cloudy, but the moon is poking through a hole in the veil of clouds. She sneaks behind the stables, her eyes landing on her former home. There are a few guards playing poker on the porch. Callisto sneaks closer, clenching the Candelabra tighter as she listens closely from behind a caravan, out of sight.
"These fools stood no chance. I don't even know why we bothered coming here." One says, their words slurred from the alcohol. "The Cap'n made it clear, ye' schelib!" The other shouts with equal inebriation as a sailor would. "Godsdamnit... I fold. An' watch your tongue, or else I'll cut it out of ye'." The last one sighs, not as drunk as the other two. "Gotta take a leak. Don't kill each other just yet." They finish, "We wouldn'ta without no audience!" The one with an accent exclaims.
Callisto takes this chance to sneak around the side of the house as the soldier goes into the home. Callisto climbs up the vines that line the wall, sneaking in through a window into her fathers bedroom on the second floor. She steps down quietly through the window sill, the bed to her right, adorned in a bright red blanket, a desk to her left in the corner of the room, and a dresser against the corner of the room to her right. She slips down onto her belly, reaching under his bed and pulling out the sword that Kallan adored. "I'll take good care of her, dad..." She whispers as she discards the candelabra onto the bed.
The soldier who went into the house was now exiting through the back door, she could hear him grumbling to himself. Callisto quickly into the hallway and into the door across from her fathers room, grabbing the dagger she used in the dream which was hidden under her pillow. She throws the sword sheath over her shoulder, holstering the dagger in her belt. As she makes her way downstairs, she hears the soldier finish relieving themselves outside and start walking back inside. She quickly hides herself in a closet, the drunken soldier walking by. Callisto feels something well up inside her, something calling out to her to kill the man. She wants to, it's almost a desire.
She gives in and exits the closet quietly, unsheathing her dagger and walking close behind the soldier who was now rummaging in the cabinets for more alcohol. Before the soldier knows it, Callisto covers his mouth in a practiced motion and slits his throat. Callisto lowers the corpse quietly, before contemplating killing the other two.