Cassian POV
I had been punched before.
Broken ribs.
Dislocated shoulders.
The usual consequences of growing up training among monsters.
But nothing—nothing—had ever hurt like hearing Alistair say:
"I held her when she died."
The words hadn't been meant for me.
Yet they gutted me clean.
Thalen did not react outwardly.
But the air around him tightened.
Alistair had gone still, jaw clenched, eyes bright with a savage kind of grief.
The guards watched us from a distance, hands on their weapons, waiting for the moment we lost control.
I didn't move.
Couldn't.
Sarafina's voice was still echoing behind the ward, muffled but clear enough to break something in me.
Cassian?
She heard everything.
And I deserved that pain.
Thalen finally spoke, his voice calm but edged.
"Enough. Both of you."
Alistair shot him a look sharp enough to slice open the ward.
I took a breath that trembled far more than I wanted it to.
"Thalen," I said quietly, "let me speak to her. Just me."
Alistair turned toward me like I'd suggested tearing the moon out of the sky.
"Absolutely not."
"We're making it worse," I snapped softly. "She can hear us tearing each other apart."
"She heard the truth," Alistair bit out.
I closed my eyes.
Yes.
She did.
Thalen studied me for a long moment, long enough that the guards shifted nervously.
Finally, he spoke.
"Cassian. Come."
Alistair bristled. "He goes in, I go in."
"No," Thalen said simply.
Alistair stepped forward—but the ward slammed him back with a crack of light, forcing him to his knees.
Thalen didn't even lift a hand.
"Your energy destabilizes her," Thalen said, voice quiet. "Cassian's does not."
The hybrid snarled low in his chest, but didn't get up.
He knew Thalen was right.
And that made it worse.
I followed Thalen down the stone corridor, the torchlight painting long shadows on the walls.
My heartbeat felt too loud.
My steps too heavy.
It had been years since I walked these halls.
Years since I stood inside the Arcanum as something more than a threat.
My pulse eased only when Thalen spoke in his familiar low tone.
"You should not have returned here," he murmured.
"I didn't choose this."
"You chose it the day you swore your oath."
The words hit like a blade.
I swallowed hard. "She was five, Thalen."
"Children can still make oaths," he replied. "Especially when fate chooses them."
We reached a door—heavy black stone veined with silver runes.
It pulsed softly in response to my presence.
Like it remembered me.
Thalen's voice softened.
"Do you recall the day you made your vow?"
I did.
Every detail.
The memory rose whether I wanted it or not—
FLASHBACK – AGE 5
I was shaking.
Not from fear.
From cold.
The ritual chamber was drafty, lined with runes that hummed in languages I didn't understand.
I stood alone on the central sigil, my tiny hands balled into fists.
The High Priestess stood before me.
Celestine.
Sarafina's mother.
Her silver-lit eyes softened when she looked at me—something between pity and purpose.
"Young Cassian," she said gently. "Do you know why you're here?"
"No," I whispered. "But… I want to help."
She smiled.
"You will. More than you know."
She knelt to meet my eye level.
"There will be a girl, someday, who needs you. She will be lost. Hunted. Alone."
Her hand glowed softly as she touched my forehead.
"You will protect her with your life."
My throat tightened.
"I promise."
Celestine's eyes shimmered.
"No, child. It must be more."
She drew a symbol in the air—
a star.
A crown.
A heart split into light.
"Repeat after me," she murmured.
I did.
Word for word.
"Her life before mine.
Her safety before my name.
Her soul before my world."
Celestine placed her palm gently on my chest.
"And if she ever awakens," she whispered, voice trembling, "you must stand between her and every blade. Even the blade of truth."
I looked up at her, confused.
"Even lies?" I asked.
"Especially lies," she answered softly. "Lies protect her more than truth, sometimes."
Then she leaned closer—
"And when the time comes, Cassian… she will light or end the world. You must help her choose."
The chamber spun.
The oath settled into me—
Burning.
Unbreakable.
PRESENT
I opened my eyes, throat dry.
Thalen was watching me with the expression of someone who had waited years for this moment.
"She has awakened," he said.
I nodded.
Barely.
"And you must choose now what protection means."
My voice cracked.
"I should have told her."
"No," Thalen said gently. "That was the one thing you could never do."
I looked away, jaw tight.
"Cassian," he continued quietly, "you are the only one she trusts without fear. If you shatter that trust, she will fall further into chaos."
"She already heard the truth," I whispered.
"Not from you," Thalen replied. "It matters."
He placed a hand on the door.
"Compose yourself."
My pulse thundered.
"She needs you steady."
"I am steady," I lied.
Thalen almost smiled.
"You are loyal. That is not the same."
The door opened an inch— not enough to enter,
just enough to let her voice slip through like a string pulling tight around my chest.
"Cassian?"
I closed my eyes.
And broke a little.
"I'm here," I whispered.