The first thing Calypso did, as a woman of faith and prayer, was to try to force open the damn thing.
​
​Ever since her first Winterland, she knew powerful forces existed in this realm and conspired against her magnificent Beholder — that beloved icon of all that is Holy and Kneading! The Great Catue!
​
This farce of a Festive Realm may have well as been a prison to her, if it was to be bare from her Goddess’s tender touch.
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​Oh, but a prison where she could peacefully pray and attune to the Great Goddess Catue? That would be a paradise. If part of Her Divine Form remained here, perhaps it was Calypso's righteous path after all! To seek it out and give it strength! To create a foothold in this realm beyond realms, and fill herself plenty and become a Purr-fect Pilgrim!
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​And so, she enlisted the help of another with unordinary power. One who possessed curiosity for the truth.
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​She would be wise to band together with the next most powerful third-party. So she and this… Singularity — to be more in line with the name he called himself, James Anderson — would venture forth into the bowels of the Castle Keep where she first encountered her Goddess in her Dragon Form.
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​James Anderson, meanwhile, was starting to regret the call to adventure. More so he regretted that he did not ask for Ed to come along. Ed had apparently been with Calypso when they stormed this keep. (Ed did seem preoccupied when I asked, he thought as he remembered the eccentric gentleman in pirate costume, chasing him about. Better not engage on that one, which was the subsequent thought that led him to this predicament.)
​
​---
​Back to where it started, yes! Calypso tried to force open the damned thing.
​In the utmost Castle room lay the barren and desolate throne room where Calypso had encountered what was so heinously heretically dubbed 'Christmas Dragon'. Every time Calypso remembered the words of the Witch who shackled and summoned down her Goddess in such a way, she cursed!
​'Bitch! You cretin! You slime-bagged moth-balled swine of an existence!'
​This paled in comparison to what she thought. (Grub's notes say something about ressurrecting her soul via séance and, well, 'committing genocide on the tongue in which she'll beg for mercy'. I do wonder on Winterland's policy for entrance to the festivities.)
​
​The throne room hummed with energy, despite its empty appearance. It protruded out of the top of a mountain, the walls and rocks made bare from some powerful energy in the battle. Calypso felt it, as did James.
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​'Oh, you weren't kidding. That's something else,' James said, as he tousled the fabric of reality in a clench of his fist.
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​'Beware, this will take both our mightiest effort, if we are ever to turn the tides on the forces that hold secrets against us.'
​James furrowed his brow (out of sight of Calypso, of course). Maybe I should lead. This far out of town, I should be able to tap into my real power.'
​'Yes, the curse of the Festive Lock tugged at my throat too. Converting our abilities into visages of candy and sparkles, bah!' She lifted her hand over the distant image of the town, and stretched her grasp as if a chokehold. 'I hope the Architect of such a curse likes his mind. I'll savour the feeling of them grasping at it, as it melts between their eyes.'
She didn't say that last part, but someone heard it anyway.
​'Okay,' said James as he pulled the gravity above him, floating off the dusted stone floors. 'Let's do this.'
​Singularity came out.
​---
​'GREAT AND MIGHTY CATUE, I APPEAL TO THEE. HEAR MY WORDS AND OPEN THY BLESSINGS. I HAVE COME TO SET YOU FREE. I HAVE COME TO BECOME A VESSEL FOR YOU TEMPERAMENT, FOR YOUR LOVE OF HIGH WINDOWS! FOR THE URGE OF DESTRUCTION YOU FEEL TOWARDS WORLDS TEETERING ON THE EDGE OF A TABLE!'
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​James, bless his soul, couldn't hear a word of this. Singularity was in full force. He found the loose thread that hung in the middle of the room, letting out the draft of energy the two had felt. It was the slightest broken fabric in reality, but enough for him to begin forcing it open. Calypso sent her incantations, chants and faith into that tear, imploring the power that slumbered on the other side to break through.
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​Singularity buckled for a moment. It possessed the infinite chasm of pure finality. It was the crafter of the end-point of a star-encompassing power that journeyed across dimensions, and yet, it buckled.
James felt a searing pain blast back up his arms as his void form, full with speckled starlight from far-flung universes, reverted back to James Anderson. He called out to Calypso, but all noise was absorbed from him as a slight breeze caressed the nape of his neck.
Then, a torrential force yanked him into the thread.
​His arm was pulled into it first, flailing into a world beyond even Winterland. Calypso acted fast. She summoned her Way energy and grappled onto James with pure conceptual thought. She wasn't able to do so until part of him became corporeal again (even if that part was flailing into the realm beyond).
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She panicked. If Singularity were to fall in, she wouldn't have a chance again to save her beloved Catue. He was slipping, to a force even beyond both theirs combined.
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​The time was now; or the time would be never again. She drew together all her Way energy and stretched out her limbs. She rose, arms and legs spread like a starfish and floated opposite the tear.
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​James looked back, and saw the immense power from her desperation kick in. Calypso's eyes were the last thing he saw, before an all-encompassing, deafening noise blasted through his very existence. Singularity snapped out of burns, and James was spat right back out.
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​Something on the other side — something had woken up!
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​James ricocheted off the ground and hit his head on a pillar with two turtle doves engraved across it. His consciousness fell deep.
​
​---
​
​Calypso looked down at the boy, who stirred awake as healing energy wafted across his skull.
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​'We… owe you our thanks, James, Arctus — Singularity.'
​
​Despite all evidence Calypso had presented thus far, James looked up at a woman, and saw a simple kindness.
​The next thing he saw was a lumbering, giant, bright-purple-eyed Persian cat, hued in the most magnificent black fur. It was the size of, well, a Dragon. With one big, slimy yet incredibly coarse lick, James felt a flow of god-like appreciation.
​If he wasn't so confused, he'd be impressed with himself.
​'And that is as good as an apology anyone in the infinite realms will ever be blessed with, from a Saint of Catue you see before you.'
​Ah, so that's what pulled me in, he thought. Come to think of it, that roar did sound quite familiar.