Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Whitestone's winter day was chilling to the bone. Its castle walls were tall and impenetrable. And Kaylie was furious. Just as many times before that the cause of her furry lay in her father. In theory, his idea sounded like a good plan.

"Let's meet in Whitestone", he said, "It's gonna be fun! My old crew is gathering there. We can have some obnoxiously fancy vacation. Come on, this place has everything: heated roads that never freeze in winter, a posh castle with absurdly big baths for some reason, a proud historical legacy of fighting the undead. What better place to have proper father-daughter time?! I bet, they even have a music room for you to practice before the audition."

If anything it sounded like an experience. The first time she arrived at the damned city was to witness her father's dead body. The second was after her kidnapping by a wannabe-god, and she was out of it for the most part both times. Things could only go up from there, right? So far it didn't look like it. For starters, when she arrived at settled time, the beloved parent was nowhere to be found. That was nothing new for Scanlan. Honestly, he was doing much better in the whole "family department" thing. And again it's not hard to miss each other by a day when one is travelling from Kymal and the other from Emon. Still, it rubbed Kaylie the wrong way.

The next unpleasant discovery was the fact that Whitestone Castle was guarded by an exclusive kind of unapproachable prick. Neither wits nor charm could persuade the brute that she, a gnomish bard with attitude, is indeed related to another gnomish bard with attitude – fabled Scanlan Shorthalt and as such expected in the castle. Kicking him in a shin and calling him a dick probably didn't help her case. So now she was stuck in the castle's public gardens – the closest thing to her destination – in the freezing dead of winter, out of spells or means of communication for the day. A reasonable thing to do would be to go back to the city and find a place to stay for the night. A reasonable thing to do was for pussys. Thus she was making rounds around the area and venting at stupid cubic-shaped bushes.

"Fuck, shit, balls, goddammit!"

"Are you frustrated in general, or at the briar bushes specifically?"

"How is that your business?" - Kaylie stared daggers at the young noblewoman who was leaning back on the bench and holding a tablet with some kind of papers on her lap.

"Just curious", she shrugged. Her face had that aloof expression that few people could imitate and every cat mastered. She was definitely noble – simple but immaculately tailored fur-lined jacked left no room for mistake – but if she was offended by Kaylie's rant she didn't show it.

First I can't persuade a guard, now this high-born cow is not impressed by my swears. I must be losing it.

Kaylie gave the noble a closer look. A girl was roughly her age in human years, yet her hair already had a few strikes of white. Interesting.

"Aye, can't stand the sight of a fuckin' thing. Cursed bush killed my whole family." It was a poor attempt at a joke, but then again her day wasn't stellar either.

"Is that so?" A shade went over the stranger's face for a second. She bent her head as if she heard something curious, "Anyway, that briar is quite uncharacteristically not cursed." She followed with the most neutral expression.

That was the most mockingly cool reaction to the death of the family news Kaylie had seen in a while. If she had been in a better mood she would have laughed. I guess, that's the creepy vampire city heritage for you. All right, I can take a joke as well.

"What, you have a menu of cursed stuff to choose from?"

"Let me think", the girl furrowed her brow as if gathering thoughts, "We are a bit short on undead lately. There are always extremely cursed woods with a rich variety of flora and fauna, but it's a bit far to go on foot… Widows Garden is a lovely place – private and lots of poisonous plants, but then again it's not for the public. I'm afraid, the closest thing to attraction here is a gazebo."

Kaylie blinked her eyes very slowly. The problem with the girl was that she said everything with such an unfazed expression that it provided virtually no context. Right now she dropped an unrecognisable word and expected some kind of reaction. If the smart-ass wanted to make a fool of her, Kaylie wasn't going to stand for it. She just needed a bit more information.

If her linguistic intuition was worth anything, gazebo sounded like a goristro's cousin of some sorts. Father had told her tales of him befriending the fiendish minotaur. According to him, it was an extremely aggressive creature prone to rampages if not tamed by magic. It wouldn't make any sense for a normal garden in a normal city to have one. But nothing about this day, or this city, or this girl who was reciting the list of local cursed objects as a small talk was normal.

"What colour is it?", Kaylie started probing for clues.

"Why? Do you have a preference?"

"Well, you tell me one useless piece of information, might as well throw in another."

"It's white, I think."

That made sense in the snowy environment – light-coloured fur was harder to spot and probably kept the creature warm. "Mimicking motherfucker."

"How far away is it?"

"About 150 feet, maybe. It's just nearby."

For a hellish monster, it was far nearer than Kaylie wished it ever would be. She took a glance at her surroundings, trying to look as cool as possible. Nothing resembling the creature was in the vicinity. Which meant it was either even stealthier than she thought or intentionally hidden. Kaylie was hoping for the latter – that would make the local authorities not completely insane.

"How big is it?"

The girl paused for a second, "It's about 30 feet across, 15 feet high. Do you...want me to take you there?", she uttered nonchalantly.

Some daredevil part of Kaylie really wanted to, another rational part hinted that the whole situation had gone completely off the rails.

"Is it tame, at least?"

"I'm not sure that word can be applied to gazebo…", the girl's expression was a bit perplexed.

"It surely can't", Kaylie made a mental sigh. At this point, she gave up being subtle and went into full gather-the-information mode.

"Is it vulnerable to anything?"

Now it was the girl's turn to take a long pause and blink very slowly.

"I guess… to fire or you could try to chop it with an axe… I suppose, but I don't know why anybody would even try. Honestly, I've never seen anybody putting so much thought into a decision about whether or not to see a gazebo…"

"Well, it is a monster."

There was another pregnant pause.

"It's a small house. With open sides. To sit in it. And enjoy the view."

One should give credit to the noble upbringing – she managed to get to the end of the sentence before covering her face with her hands and bursting with laughter.

There is a limit to how much bad luck you can have in one day and stay angry about it. Kaylie could feel something cracking inside of her with that last bit of information. She wanted to hold onto her anger, really wanted to… but the world was too absurd, this day was especially absurd and this situation even more so. She folded onto herself and rocked with laughter.

Also, as Kaylie noticed after the first blow of emotion, the stranger had a surprisingly good laugh. Not sarcastic, by any means, and very genuine. It made her look almost like a normal, alive person. It weirdly agreed with her, like sleep agreed with the sleep-deprived. She could use more of those.

The girl took a deep breath collecting herself, "Please, pardon me. I did not realise that my language was confusing. I meant no disrespect…"

"You were giving me a list of local cursed sights. How does a garden house come into that equation?"

"I was attempting a joke… What I meant is, there's nothing to see in particular…"

"Well, you surely succeed.", Kaylie puffed with fake irritation.

"I'm sorry!", the girl gave her an apologetic look, "How about I give you a proper tour around the place?"

"I've been touring here for a while, but I'd love to see a gazebo now. Name's Kaylie by the way."

"Where are my manners… I'm Cassandra. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. It's this way." She rose from the bench and made an inviting gesture.

The Gazebo was indeed nearby, proudly facing a small frozen pond. It was indeed white and quite successfully blended with the environment. Kaylie went in the middle of it and tapped her foot on the wooden floor.

"Well, it's a bit anticlimactic."

"Gazebos tend to be", Cassandra smiled slightly, "You are not from here, are you?"

"Naw, from Kymal. Small town – rich on coal and cheap booze, not on scenery or fancy tents."

"That's quite a long way. What brings you here?"

"I was going to meet with my father, but the old bastard got lost somewhere along the way."

"When was the last time you heard of him?", Cassandra frowned.

"Three days, give or take."

"Maybe, it's time to alert the scouts – like I said the woods are dangerous and things can happen even on safer roads."

"Ah, I'm sure he's fine. Punctuality is not exactly Scanlan's virtue. I'll send him a message tomorrow."

"Oh, all right then."

Her companion relaxed, tension leaving her shoulders a bit too easy at the mention of the bard's name. Kaylie searched with her eyes a better subject for conversation than family matters. Her gaze stumbled on the tablet in Cassandra's hands.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothing interesting. Some drafts for the future population census. It's like … a list of how many people live in the city and general information about them."

"I know what a census is, thank you kindly."

"I merely didn't want to assume things any further."

"Is it something you want to do now, though?"

"At least set things on track. Why?"

"It's about two weeks before the Winter's Crest. People worry about where to get a nice piggy for a festive table, not about filling in the questionnaire. But more importantly quarter of them are going to drink themselves up to the Raven Queen's alley. What good will all that data be then?"

Cassandra opened then closed her mouth and rubbed the back of her neck. She looked lost.

That's the part where she tells you to go fuck yourself. Serves you right, Kaylie. You just couldn't keep your opinion to yourself.

"Well, those things take a few months to organise anyway.", Cassandra still had an expression of a person who bit more than they could chew and got caught in the process.

Something was off about the whole situation. Not the stupid conversation about how to kill a garden decoration and the follow-up, the fact that they were having a conversation. Cassandra was a lady - notoriously unapproachable kin in general and for the likes of Kaylie specifically. She acted unapproachable, yet she turned out to be the easiest person to approach so far.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"By all means."

"Why are we talking?"

"Don't you want to?"

"I do, what I meant is – all I did was throw a bunch of swears at you and interview you on the subject of a deformed greenhouse. What exactly told you 'Hey, let's give her a guiding tour'?"

Cassandra gave a chuckle and took a moment to think over the answer, "What if I tell you, it was the first normal conversation I had in a while."

"That is your idea of a normal conversation?"

"I guess, it's not the most conventional example of one. But if you think that was a strange interaction you should see my average day. Once, I was woken up in the middle of the night, because somebody had made a very lucky shot at the spinning orb in the basement. To be fair, it was a very important orb and that all makes sense in context."

Kaylie gave her a once-over. She could tell by the tone, the girl wasn’t bragging. Just describing a curious Thursday at best. Or she was bragging but didn’t show it, which made it even cooler.

"I'd surely love to hear that story."

"Maybe sometime. What I want to say is the ability to manage emotions while engaging with insanity comes with the job. You didn't come to me with requests, or emergencies, or empty talk to be polite –"

"I surely didn't."

"You were just... venting your frustration."

There was a peculiar undertone to the last part – a very careful excitement as if she never used those words together before. Usually, people sound like that when they speak a foreign language first time in public.

"That's sounds… just impossibly sad."

"I didn't mean it that way. Anyway, it's getting late."

"Dahm right it is. I should probably get back to the city."

"Nonsense, you were supposed to stay in the castle, weren't you?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"Let's go, I'll let the guards know you'll be staying."

It took Kaylie a moment to understand what her companion was saying.

"It's Lady Cassandra, I presume?"

"It is."

"And that's your castle."

"It is."

"And I've made a fool of myself."

"Maybe a little. Shall we?", as they were getting closer to the castle, Cassandra was back to her aloof persona.

Kaylie narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "What, just like that?"

The lady shrugged, "If you are impersonating somebody to get into the castle, you've made an odd choice. Even if that's the case, I can think of at least two people write away who can prove your identity. I don't believe that would be necessary, though. You do have your father's bone structure and abrasiveness". She uttered the last phrase with a sly but courteous smile.

At the end of the day, Kaylie did make it to the castle. And she did manage to charm her way in, in a sense. As she was passing through the small gait she noticed her fury fading.

Chapter Text

Why did everything have to happen before Winter’s Crest? Cassandra stared at the piece of stamped paper in her hands. The words on the paper stared back at her still refusing to form a coherent plan.

Her eyes wandered to the pile of letters from Emon she had yet to answer. Maybe she could ask Percy to help with those, he knew the capital better. Then it occurred to her – Vox Machina was back visiting. She could certainly try, but that job would never be done on time. At that rate, she would be lucky if he didn’t wander off to hunt some abyssal chickens or something. Maybe she could ask Vex'ahlia to make sure her husband actually attended the council meeting this week. Or at the very least stayed on the same plane of existence.

Speaking of the council meeting, she focused back on a draft of the agenda for it. Right now it looked alarming, a list of things to discuss could not be three pages long. Something had to give – either the city affairs or their spines. Cassandra stretched and rubbed the small of her back, her spine was giving already. She let her gaze linger on the scenery behind the window. The sky was turning a lighter shade of grey, which for that time of the year meant sunrise. It had been about two hours since she got down to work, yet next to nothing was done. She was out of focus and a somnambulistic winter day wasn’t helping. Which day was it, actually? She stared at the calendar suspiciously.

The timeline didn’t make any sense. It’s been two weeks before Winter’s Crest, which meant it’s been almost two years since liberation from Briarwoods. When she considered how Whitestone had changed it felt impossibly short. Two years ago it had been a ghost city, quite literally on some level. Now it was growing faster than any other city of Tal'Dorei. This isn’t hard if all the other cities are partly in ruin due to the dragon invasion, but still no small feat.

Her mind traced back to the first few months after the Briarwoods. They had started to rebuild what was destroyed by occupation and rebellion, re-establish diplomatic communication with the heartland. Most important was trade, gods, they were in dire need of trade those days. That meant repairing the only bridge suitable for the trade route on an urgent basis. Which in turn meant to pay a small fortune to the contractor. She was still angry about how that deal had gone, but they’d got the job done.

Then the dragons came and made all her worries about the bridge seem like child play. They had to deal with the refugee crisis, even made a profit out of it somehow – nothing boosts the population like people seeking shelter from inevitable death. Then they started to rebuild again, re-establish and repair the bloody bridge. That time she drove harder bargain.

So had gone the first quarter of the first year. After that things slowed down a bit. The first quarter felt like riding a blind moose rushing through a burning forest, the remaining part was just riding a blind moose.

When she considered how it felt for her inner clock it didn’t feel like time had been moving at all. First, she was in Whitestone Castle. It was her home. It was always safe. Nothing bad could ever happen in it. It was so big, and so busy, and so full of her annoying siblings, and they all made it so so noisy. It's hard to make a castle noisy, you have to fight its very nature. Then one day it fell silent. She managed to escape, didn’t manage to go through with it. She fought a long tedious battle with death. Two years later she fought again alongside few others desperate enough. Both to no avail.

Then she was in Whitestone Castle. It was her prison. It was never safe. The moment she believed it was safe she would be gone. Nothing good could ever happen in it – if something good happened it meant there was a price to pay. Yet it was the only world she knew. She adapted.

Then one day her sibling came back. He was supposed to be dead and yet he wasn’t. And there were others with him. Strange, ridiculous and abrasive group, they were so annoying... They brought the noise back, and sun, and life. The Brairwoods were dealt with just as quickly as they had dealt with her family before. Shortly after the group was gone adventuring elsewhere.

Once again, she was in Whitestone Castle. It didn’t feel like it was anything at all. Nothing was happening in it. But now she had a lifetime of crimes to atone for. The timeline didn’t make any sense.

Cassnadra shivered. It was a long and dark trip down memory lane, an untimely one at that. Those were becoming more and more frequent for her lately. Her gaze traced back to the window. Maybe she should bash her head through it – that would make it work, or at least fall silent. She put her hands to her forehead and pressed. External pressure grounded her, reminded that outside the world of self-pity, there were real matters to attend to. What was she at? Bashing her head through the window... On second thought, a change of scenery would be nice.

The sunlight, if such a thing could be spotted today, would be on the side of the library. With some luck, she won’t be disturbed there. Then again, one would never know. She admired and respected Vox Machina. Nothing livened up Whitestone like them. But every time she faced a member of the team, she faced her guilt as well. They knew what she had done, what she had been. They never brought it up and probably didn’t care. Somehow it made things worse. Cassandra took a deep breath and braced for the world outside her study.

The luck wasn’t on her side today – somebody indeed was in the library. Somebody besides always quiet and considerate JB – two voices could be heard through the door. It was possible to back away, Cassandra hadn’t entered the room yet. She could hear Trish carrying the documents and writing tools behind her. Retreating now meant losing her nerve in front of her personal guard. The Lady could order the intruders to leave, but that would be the most petty act of tyranny imaginable. The power dynamics worked in a funny way sometimes. She sighed and turned the doorknob.

“Morning, JB. Oh, looks like you have an early visitor.”

“Good morning, my lady.” JB and the guest responded. That turned out to be the bard from earlier. Cassandra felt her tension easing a bit, but not leaving entirely.

“Could I help you with something?”

“Not at the moment, thank you. I’ll be working on something here.”

“I’ll be off searching for the piece you’ve asked about, Mrs Kaylie. Let me know if you need anything.” Said JB wandering into the depths of the library.

For a moment there was silence. Cassandra was observing the papers and mindlessly stretching her wrists.

“It’s gonna take her a while to find the stuff I asked for.”

Not a fan of silence, then. Not surprising.

“Fancy a book rarity today?” She followed without thinking. Apparently, the skill of small talk was too much of an unconscious reflex.

“Not quite a book. Music scores of some classical plays.”

“A peculiar choice.”

“Right... You… wouldn’t know anything about it?”

“No, but if it’s here, JB will find it.”

There was silence again. Cassandra scribbled a few notes, then crossed them out again. Kaylie was sitting across the table and dangling her feet.

“Never played that stuff before, by the way.”

“Are you preparing something for the Winter’s Crest?”

“No, that’s for my audition, for Alabaster Lyceum.”

The name caught Cassandra’s attention. The heart of Emon’s education – not bad, not bad at all.

“That’s quite an endeavour.”

“Yeah, that’s a good word for it...”

Cassandra nodded with a polite smile. Then a thought crossed her mind. “Why do you want to study at Alabaster Lyceum? From what I heard, you are already experienced.”

“Well, I did study at Duke’s College for a few years but dropped out somewhere along the way. I only went there to beat my father at his own game. I did, but it didn’t work out the way I thought it would. So, I guess, at least somebody in our family should see things through. And that way I can gloat over other rich kids.” She added with a mischievous smile. That was a lot more honest and full answer than expected of a small talk.

“Do you always use spite as the primal motivation in education?”

Kaylie gave her a deadpan look. “Yes.”

Cassandra bowed her head a bit. “I respect consistency.”

“What about you? You must have gotten all sorts of high-class schooling?”

“I don’t know about high class, my last tutor tried to cut my throat at some point. I became a big believer in self-education after that.”

The bard gave a low long whistle of surprise. “Was he a psychopath, or you that of a bad-ass?”

“Both are right.”

The second part isn’t right, there is nothing bad-ass in being a collaborator. That is the exact opposite of bad-ass , s he mentally corrected herself.

Kaylie greened and followed up with a question, “What would you study then if you were to get into education?”

Cassandra frowned and bit the quill. That one caught her off-guard, which was strange for an entirely idle question.

“Economics, maybe.”

“Economics?”, Kaylie said the word with the intonation children usually say ‘vegetables', “Is it about charts and putting together debits with credits?”

Cassandra could see the light of thought leaving Kaylie’s eyes and marvelled once again at how expressive she was. When the bard didn’t like something, she would let you know – face, body and verbal language included. She would probably stab you for good measure. The conversation hadn’t crossed that line so far.

“It is about that, but mainly it is about –” she rubbed her forehead thinking off a very brief explanation for a very complex subject, “people and what people believe in”

“That’s a religion.”

“No, not like that. It is about resources, and distribution, and credit, as you said. But it’s also about what people believe to be valuable and opportunities it creates.”

“Right…”

Cassandra rearranged the papers on the table, hoping to find concentration in a mechanical action. Suddenly, one story bubbled to the surface.

“There was one time in one country when people paid a house-worth of money for a flower bulb.”

Kaylie raised her brows a bit. “Did it talk or grant immortality?”

“It did neither. The flower had no magical powers, nor medical value. It just looked pretty and was delivered to the said country from far away, which was pricy. That made it the symbol of wealth among the nobility –”

“That checks out.”

“From noblemen, the popularity spread to botanic collectors and art admirers, and after them, the entrepreneurs started to catch up. Soon enough people collectively believed that the flower was the same as gold and platinum, so they paid gold and platinum. The higher was the demand, the higher were the prices.”

“I can feel a cautionary tale around the corner.” The spark of interest was back.

“It is, in a way. In very simple terms, the price is based on supply and demand. If the demand is high, investors buy more of the stock. Which raises the demand, which again raises prices. But the loop can’t go on forever. In our case one day people woke up and realised the flower couldn’t cost a year's salary. They stopped buying, the price plummeted, the market crashed and now – well, the flower is just a flower.”

“The moral of the story – people are fucking stupid.”

Cassandra nodded unconsciously. “Or profit resides where people believe it resides. It’s a shadow on the wall, really. There are consequences, however, if a too big shadow is created out of nothing.”

The light was back in Kaylie’s eyes but that one was of an alarm.

“Who are you?” she whispered with an intonation of either horror or fascination, it was hard to tell.

My god, I sound like Percy, how could that ever happen? Cassandra buried her face in her palms. Perhaps, the library was a bad influence after all.

“No! I mean, it’s a cool story. Where did you even take it from?”

“I don’t know, heard it from my father a long time ago. For some reason, it stuck.”

Father had told that story to Julius. It was past her bedtime. Naturally, she was eager to listen to just about anything only to stay a bit more with the adults. Childhood memory works strangely sometimes. Later she rediscovered the story in one of the books in the library. The Briarwoods had removed everything they considered useful from it. The theory of trade or the history of remote countries was not such a thing. The mind can find the most curious ways to escape confinement.

“Anyway, the story with the flower is just a curious example. Cases like that happen all the time. People put value into a random thing and then pay a fortune for it. Cleverer people see the thing for what it is, but they want their part of the profit, so they buy it anyway. Then one day everybody stops believing, as if… the charm was broken…”

Come to think of it, it’s not so bad to believe in something stupid, it’s far worse to believe in something dangerous, downright harmful. Suddenly, Cassandra felt very cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to visibly shiver.

What is wrong with you? Take a hold of yourself! Can’t you at least maintain a normal conversation without getting into self-pity? There’s no room for it anyway.

“It’s like paying a fortune for a chair because it was built a hundred years ago.” Kaylie’s voice reached her from far away. The comment was oddly specific. “My father and I used to trade in antique furniture not so long ago.”

“Really?” Cassandra tilted her head a bit – that was not a background she would have guessed, “So you are into not only arts but crafts as well.”

“Not really…”, Kaylie rubbed the back of her neck “The whole antiques thing just sort of happened by accident. Initially, Scanlan wanted to get back at some guys who crossed him. Worked out so well that we took over their business. It’s a long story.”

“Spite seems to be your family’s element.”

“Never thought about it this way, but it has its perks. I’d trade you that story for a story of the spinning orb.”

Cassandra smirked at the thought. The intuition hinted it was a bargain, but telling a very talkative wondering bard the details of the ziggurat and Vecna ritual seemed careless at least. In hindsight, mentioning the thing in the first place had already been careless. Still, she could try to omit sensitive information… and Kaylie was a part of that story too, right?

“I’ll give it a thought. Right now I truly need to get down to that.” She gestured at the agenda draft which still refused to get in order.

“I can help you.”

Cassandra’s eyes darted from the list back to Kaylie. The bard had an honest, open face. Only a person not embittered by bureaucratic correspondence could have such a face. Cassandra would give all her memory, right arm and a favourite pair of skates for it. She sighed with a soft smile. There are days when you tell yourself ‘You know what? that might as well happen.’

“Sure. What do you think should get more priority – a road repair plan or organising the population census?”

Kaylie rolled her eyes. “You know, I’m trying to do something unheard of me, which is a very nice thing. Don’t treat me like I’m a golden retriever – supportive but not understanding.”

“I could use a golden retriever right now, actually. Sorry, what are you suggesting then?”

“I can inspire you. Like bards do. Whit music.” She smiled and shook her hands in the manner of musical theatre shows. Cassandra cast her a sceptical eye.

“C’mon, it will help you work better, I can get some practice – two birds, one stone. JB still hasn’t returned with my stuff anyway.”

“It can’t hurt… I guess?”

“That’s the spirit! Mild curiosity and consent to tolerate me is exactly what I seek in my audience.” She reached into a small bag of holding on her belt. “I can play the violin or I can play the flute – what’s your preference?”

Cassandra made a confused noise.

“You seem like a violin person.”

“Sure.”

Kaylie took out the case, opened it and started tuning the instrument with a look of pride. She trapped the violin between her chin and shoulder, took the bow into her right hand and struck the first note. Cassandra watched her with unflagging attention.

Kaylie glanced over the violin. “C'mon, get to your very important stuff. You do your job, I’ll do mine.”

Cassandra followed the advice half-listening to the tune. It was imperfect but charming. Something in it made her muscles relax. She didn’t realise they had been tense before. Perhaps, it was a laid-back feel and lilting sound that made the tune so calming. Somehow it blocked away all the unnecessary noise. For the first time in a long while, Cassandra wasn’t haunted by shadows of the past or menaces of the future. She was in that moment – it consisted of paper, ink, goals and a path to them. She was good at it. There was no room for second-guessing herself. Quill moved easily in her fingers following the rhythm. In no time the outline she had been struggling with for so long was ready. Somewhere in the middle of that process, Kaylie had stopped playing. Now she was sitting at the other side of the table with a smug look.

“Was I right or was I right?”

Cassandra breathed out and looked over her work. “And so another long bureaucratic meeting which could be a letter is saved. Please, accept the gratitude on behalf of the city and me personally.”, she bowed her head a bit, “No, honestly, that was a great help. I didn’t realise relaxing music can do such wonders for a mindset.”

“Naw, it’s nothing. Cold air seems to be not good for that old thing – the sound is really low-fidelity.”

“I think, it’s part of its magic.”

“What it’s supposed to be about?”

“The meeting? Many things: summarizing the annual achievements, outlining future plans.”, she paused and continued with candidness surprising to herself, “The census brings me to wit’s end. We need it and I don’t see how to approach it yet.”

“I understand. How can you even sleep at night and not know how many subjects do you have at your disposal – 4586 or 4230.”

“Yes, that’s so uncomfortable.”, Cassandra rolled her eyes dramatically and continued in a more serious tone, “Well, to begin with, the last census was conducted fifteen years ago. And for the last five years, the city was under the rule of a necromancer and a refugee base later. To put it mildly, we have a very vague idea of who the permanent residents are, how many are fit to be working population and how many need support. Just the other week it has been brought to the council's attention that we have been paying pensions and extra family allowance for a household of halflings. Turns out that household was drunk off by vampires within the first year.”

Kaylie made a subdued chuckle. “I’m sorry, that’s all so horrible but somehow funny.”

That was a good thing she laughed. That meant the Whitestone’s climate agreed with her – you couldn’t live in a city with such history of misery without acquiring a dark humour.

Cassandra supported her with an eloquent smile, “Yes, I’ll laugh when I find where the money has been going.”

“Anyway, looks like JB has found the music piece I needed. I’d better start working on it.”

Cass glanced at a gnome figure who was indeed approaching them and who she hadn’t noticed before.

“Again, thank you for the help and the company. I won’t hold you off any longer.”

“Any time.”, Kaylie grinned and pointed at her with a bow, “And you owe me that story.”

“I don’t remember us reaching a formal agreement.” Cassandra narrowed her eyes half-playfully and half-suspiciously. “And we discussed a different transaction.”

“C’mon, cut me some slack. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I don’t mind hearing more of those curious economy tales.”

“I’ll give it a thought. I really will.”

Chapter Text

Time moved differently after the Winter’s Crest, like it usually did when the previous year ended but the next one didn’t properly start yet. Kaylie found herself weirdly enjoying that calm period. Since she had left Kymal in her teens the occasions when she wasn’t on the road were few and far between.

As of now her only assignment was preparation for the Lyceum’s audition. The piece wasn’t difficult but it was long and required constant practice. So she did the best thing a very disorganised person can do to stay on schedule – found a very organised person and stuck to her. Cassandra didn’t seem to mind.

The usual routine – yes, now she had a routine – was to practice for a few hours, meet with the lady in the library once every few days, wait for her to finish the work, maybe help her with a supportive tune, and then let Cassandra listen to her rehearsing. She was a grateful if a bit reserved audience. Next, they would walk around the castle or get to the city on occasion. Currently, she was waiting in the gardens for her friend to finish the fencing practice. The weather was as chilly as it had been on the first day but Kaylie’s mood couldn’t be more different – she was blissful.

“There you are! I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”, Cass approached her briskly. She was still wearing light leather armour, her forehead sweaty and cheeks pink after physical exercise.

“Naw, that’s all right. How was the training?”

“Not too bad. Aside from the cut I somehow managed to get myself with a training sword.”

Kaylie noticed her companion carefully feeling her shoulder while saying that.

“You call it ‘not too bad’?”

“If anything it’s an achievement. Cuts are a rarity in training. Usually, you get bruises or sprains.”

“Oh, how wonderful! C’mon , let’s show your rarity to a healer.”

Cass just waved it off, “I have it bandaged already. The scratch is not worth losing sunlight today.”

“If you say so.”, Kaylie agreed begrudgingly.

They walked in comfortable silence for some time. At some point, Kaylie’s gaze stumbled upon the briar bushes. Now then she looked at it, crimson berries on frost-covered branches made quite a lovely contrast. She chuckled at the memory.

“What?”

“It’s funny, isn’t it? How we found each other’s company. It’s not like we have much in common.”

“We have an amazing acquaintance story to tell at a dinner table, for one.”, came an immediate retort.

“Don’t you dare use it as an anecdote!”

“Alright, I’ll try. How about, we both have experience in managing positions of a complex organisation.”

“In my case, it wasn’t something I chose, I just found myself in it.”

“See, even more simulates between us.”

“Two things are a coincidence, there must be at least one more for it to be a pattern.”

“Well, let me think.”, Cass paused for a moment, “We share the same death date.”

Kaylie scoffed. Just when you think you are used to grim whitestonian humour they will surprise you.

“Is that a saying of some sorts or do you know something about my future I don’t?”

“Well, I meant…”, her companion tilted her head to the left the way people do when they reference some prior events, then shook it and tried to put on a casual smile. “Never mind, it was a foolish thing of me to say. Why don’t we –”

“Wait. Wait. You can’t just mention shit like that and carry on like it was nothing. What were you saying?”

“I shouldn't have brought it up.”, Cass hid her hands in her pockets and frowned, “What do you remember of the day Vecna attacked Vasselheim?”

Kaylie’s memory traced back to that moment. Quite a day it had been. Even in Ank’Harel, it was clear that something rotten was going on. She couldn’t wrap her head around what, but when a hooded one-eyed figure appeared out of thin air it was clearly not a good omen. The fight was over before it started. There wasn’t time to reach for her dagger or the flute, there wasn’t even time to cast a spell, her body just froze and refused to move. Then she was brought to some hollow and sunless place. They told her to put on the armour and she obeyed. They told her to go up into a strange tower and stand on one of its levels, so she did. There were two other figures, just as motionless as her. Somewhere behind her eyes, Kaylie raged, but all she could do was to listen to her breath, heartbeat and occasional heavy rumble going through the tower. There was no use in guessing the motives of their kidnappers, yet she kept guessing still. The only certainty was that she could not escape. She could do nothing but wait, forced passenger in her own body. At some point, something rustled behind her and she felt a heavy strike in the back. She didn’t feel her body hit the floor. All she felt was numbness. Then everything went black.

“I was minding my own business in Ank’Harel, suddenly some creep approached me and there I am serving as a sculpture in a gods-forsaken tower. Then somebody knocked me out. The next thing I know I’m in your castle and the end of the world is over. I guess, I skipped the party that day. Can’t tell much more about it.”

“You see, it was a bit stronger than a knockout.”, Cass had a strangely apologetic expression. Kaylie hadn’t seen that one on her before and that made her deeply uncomfortable. An unpleasant tingle rushed across her skin, sharp and cold. She tried to shake it off with a wry smile.

“What do you mean ‘stronger than a knockout’? How would you know anyway?”

“We… fell, then we were brought back. Pike brought us back.”

Kaylie felt her stomach contract into a tight ball, her heart was racing, and her chest was so tight it was hard to breathe. The statement was outlandish. It would do her well to laugh at such a ludicrous story. But she remembered it. Some part of her brain had always remembered it. First, it was excruciatingly hot, then her body went completely still like she was holding on to something and then – let it go.

“I’m going to be sick.”

“That’s all right. That’s all right. It was really quick . It barely counts at all…”, Cass was making motions with her hands as if trying to decide if it was better to hug her friend or back away at arm's length.

“Oh, it was really quick ?! Fantastic! I immediately feel better!”

It took her some time to come back to her senses, or at least to come to the next logical solution. “Hells bellow, I need a drink.”

“You can find a good spot for that in the city. You’ll be there right on time if you get going now.”

Kaylie glared at Cassandra. There was neglect, there was betrayal and then there was that. “You are leaving me to drink alone?! By myself? After the stuff, I just learned?”

“Kaylie, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s just… You don’t want to go to a tavern with me.”

“I’m pretty sure, I am!”

“Kaylie, I want nothing more than to provide all my support in any form necessary. But I am the Guardian of Woven Stone and the head of Whitestone Chamber. I can’t go bar crawling with you. People will stare and you might use some privacy. ”, she paused and then added, “ We do have a wine cellar here. ”

“Yes. Right. Now we are getting somewhere.”

“Do you have a set of clothes you don’t particularly care about?”

Kaylie looked herself over. She didn’t particularly care about what she was wearing today or on any given day for that matter . “Ready when you are.”

For some reason, a walk through underground hidden tunnels was not what Kaylie had imagined. It wasn’t probably that long, but enough for her to start wondering how good of the idea was to let a person without dark vision lead the way. Finally, Cass pressed something in the masonry and slipped into the opened passage. Kaylie followed her and found herself under the spacious vault of a wine cellar.

Now when she thought about it the simple task of grabbing a drink required way too much secrecy . Kaylie carefully studied Cassandra’s face and figure in the uneven light of the lamp. She was on the short side by human standards. Strokes of white hair and air of melancholia made her appear older, but if you looked closely enough she had hardly turned twenty.

“Wait, are you… of age to drink? Not that I would care.”, she finally voiced the question spinning in her head.

“I am of the age when it’s considered socially appropriate. Why?”

“It’s just… Why didn’t we go through the front door?”

Cass screwed up her face at the question. “We could. But it would require contacting three people from three different parts of the castle, and…

“People will stare?”

“Those know better than to stare. But it would raise some eyebrows and the thought of it... how do they say? 'Kills the mood'.”, she said with a slight smile, which didn’t touch her eyes.

People came into the picture way too often with Cass. Kaylie would expect her to be fussy about regular human routine, or extremely careful when in public – the inherent vice of nobles. But it wasn’t even that, Cassandra avoided people unless she absolutely couldn't cope without them and then a bit more.

“Anyway, I hope you don’t mind the humble setting.”

Kaylie shifted her attention to the surroundings. Of all the parts of the castle she had seen so far the wine cellar was probably the calmest. Tucked away in the heart of the castle , nestled in cool grey stone, humongous mahogany and oak barrels awaited their hour. The arched corridor was lined with them as far as her eyes could see in dim warm candlelight. A musky fermentation smell filled the dry air.

“You kidding? That’s better.”

“Good. Have you ever been to such a place before?”

Kaylie rolled her eyes, “It’s not my first castle and definitely not my first wine cellar.”

“Wonderful, then by all means lead the way. I know my way towards here, I don’t know my way around here or a second thing about what’s in the barrels. There must be the Snow mead and Courage – it’s more on the liqueur side. That’s the end of my knowledge.”

So we finally found something that is not your element. No worries, I’ve got us covered.

Thankfully, the cellar wasn’t hard to navigate – there’s little creativity you can put into the idea of keeping barrels in a dry dark space. With little effort, Kaylie led them towards the shelves of green bottles.

“These look like they are ready. Mead is our choice, I guess.”

“You don’t have to hold yourself back on my account.”

Kaylie shook her head decisively, “No. I’m not drowning my new existential crisis alone. That’s not happening.”

“Very well then, mead it is.”, Cass signed with no actual sorrow behind it.

It took them a moment to find a place to sit with comfort, scrounge up a couple of glasses and candles. But finally, they were all set and Kaylie took the first sip. It was a nice mead, light, gently balanced with honey sweetness. A very enjoyable drink if her mind wasn’t elsewhere.

She set the glass aside and pinched the bridge of her nose: “All right, let me sum up the general idea of today's news. I died about six months ago. Luckily, was resurrected on short notice. Completely missed that part of my biography. And no one, absolutely no one considered cluing me in?!”

“That’s the gist of it.”

“Why didn’t anybody tell me? Why didn’t he tell me? That’s it, two more drinks and I’m beating the shit out of my father.”

“In his defence, those are hard news to break. It’s your first time, I gather?”

“Yes! How many times were you invited for an encore?!”, she knew the joke hit the spot right as she finished it.

Cassandra gave a wry smile. “That’s a poetic way to say it. Second.”

“Percy told you.”

“No. We don’t really talk about these things. I had... a hunch, if you will, about it both times. It works differently for different people. From what I know, there isn’t any logic, so don’t read too much into it.”

“What got you? The first time, I mean. If… you don’t mind me asking.” All of a sudden Kaylie was very self-conscious about dragging a friend to an emotional-support drinking tour. At this point, it was debatable who deserved comfort more.

“Arrows. Come to think of it, the second time too.”

It was unclear how to react to such a statement. If there was any special section of courtesy lessons on the subject Kaylie hadn’t heard of it. She gave a weak chuckle , “Try to stay away from a shooting range, maybe?”

“I do , actually .”

“Knife wounds feel weird. You’d expect it to feel, you know, sharp. But it’s just like a really strong hit in the back. And then your whole body starts burning.”

“Arrows don’t feel like anything at first. It’s something to do with the velocity, I think. The body doesn’t have time to react. Any movement becomes difficult, though, next to impossible.”

Something in the casual mood of their talk made the tight knot in Kaylie’s chest unclench a bit . Or perhaps the alcohol was working.

“There’s a moral in that story somewhere, but I can’t find it.”

“Why do you think there is a moral? Why do you think our tiny test run of death should mean anything at all?”

“Because! We were brought back! That… must put things into perspective. Random people are not brought back.”

“Aren’t they? I find more comfort in the thought that there isn’t any purpose behind it. Otherwise, you have to think about dozens of others who were worthy and were not brought back.”, Cassandra sighed. Her tone was neutral, only the fingers clutching the glass were too white. “A sympathetic cleric happened to be nearby, we were not too far gone, so here we are. Anyway, that’s just my perspective. I don’t insist on it being the right one.”

They set in silence for a moment, “Fine. There isn’t any great purpose, but there must be something in it for us. You can’t just shrug it off and pretend that nothing happened.”

Cassandra took a sip, “Your suggestions?”

“I dunno… Take a ‘no time like the present’ approach to life? Make the world a better place? Update the bucket list?”

“Looks like you already have the first idea covered. In my experience not making the world worse is already a win. And what’s a bucket list?”

“Really? It’s a list of things to do before you, you know, kick the bucket. Like horses do when they are about to…”

“I have an idea how horses die, thank you. So, to-do list before death. But what do you put in there? Is it like a first-priority list or a resolution kind of thing?”

“Well, yes and no. It can be a form of life-planning, or motivation. You could put things like personal goals or desires there. But most people put something stupid, or too vague, or oddly specific for some reason. Like to try every type of street food in Suncut Bazaar, or ride a dragon turtle. Just start with a sentence ‘Before I die, I want to…’ ”

“Have dinner, or go ice skating, maybe.”

“You’re joking! Those are way too casual. You can do it today!”

“It’s hard to think about death as a distant prospect. Force of habit, I guess.”

Kaylie took a deep breath, “They are gone. There will be plenty of dinners in your life. And you can skate nine months a year here. Now think about something big. What do you really want?”

Cass tilted her head to the side and stared intensely as if struggling to grasp the concept, “Care for an example? What’s on yours?”

She didn’t actually have one, but, fortunately, she had about a dozen random ideas buzzing in her head at any given moment in time. “I want to be blacklisted in every casino of Marquet, start my own band, go to an annual beer fest in Hupperdook.”

“Well, aren’t you ambitious! Is Hupperdook a real place?”

“It is! It’s actually a town in the Dwendalian Empire built into the side of a mountain! People work hard there during the day and party even harder at night – It's what that city's all about. And the beer fest is the main event of the year. Folk from all over Exandria gathers to drink, shoot fireworks and dance for half a month.”

“That… sounds amazing. I’d love to see it.”

“There you go! You have the first point on your list. It’s in the first decade of autumn – we can go together.”

“Sure.” She agreed with ease like people do when they don’t take the offer seriously. Kaylie smiled slyly, Cass should have known better by now.

“See, now you have something to look forward to. Feels nice, isn’t it?”

“I won’t argue with that.”

“Your turn.”, she topped the glasses as they spoke, “Strike me, there are no bad ideas, only small ones.”

Cassandra pulled her knees up to her chin, “I want to sail.”

“That’s it?”

“Like open ocean sail. The biggest thing I sailed was a river boat and it was a day trip. I’m sorry, not everyone has mapped out the most part of the continent by now.”

“No, that’s a good start. You need to be more specific. Where do you want to sail?”

“I guess… I want to explore pre-calamity cities.”

“Now we are getting somewhere. What’s in pre-calamity cities?”

“Oh, just the relics of ancient civilization at its peak. They say you can pick the age of arcanum artefacts as seashells from a shore at some parts of the Shattered Teeth. So basically anything can be there.”

“What kind of artefact do you seek?”

“I? I seek the one that will stop me from being possessed.”

Kaylie could sense there was much going on behind the statement, “Why possessed?”

“Not just possessed, I don’t want to be charmed or mind-controlled in any other way. Anyway, I don’t have my eyes on anything specific. I don’t know if such a thing even exists.” The voice was deceptively calm, ice looks calm like that in spring. It was better to back away from those waters, for now.

“See, it’s vague, at the same time oddly specific and hard to achieve. That’s perfect bucket list material.”

Cassandra ran her hand through her short hair relaxing a bit.

“We have a beer fest and an ancient artefact hunting. One more, give me one more.”

“What’s with you and the rule of three?”

“My ma always told me ‘Two deer are an accident, three deer are a tendency’ meaning if there are three of something it’s probably worth your attention. How about that education idea of yours?”

“It wasn’t much of an idea, I was just making a conversation.”

“Well, you seemed pretty damn passionate about it. I bet they have an economics faculty in Alabaster Lyceum.”

She voiced the idea first and then let herself explore it. When she thought of education she thought of finally putting money she had never had before to good use, of causing aneurysms to entitled rich kids, maybe even learning a thing or two. She hadn’t thought about the Lyceum as a place to find friends. Come to think of it, it would be nice to have one. She could introduce Cass to Dr. Dranzel and their Troupe, they would definitely like each other. Kaylie could show her around the Emon. And, sure, Cassandra is a rich kid too, but she is a cool rich kid, with a tragic backstory and actual skills and smarts behind the title. They would be unstoppable together. There was something scary about thinking of Lyceum as a place where she would want to fit in. But there was something exciting about it too.

“I have a lot on my plate right now.”

“You always have.”

“And it’s not like the Alabaster Lyceum is the easiest place to enter.”

“Sure it is. You make a generous donation, they name a bench or a library after you – depending on the size, and there you are sitting through lectures in no time. Even I know how to do it. Besides, you are either smart enough to manage a city or not smart enough for higher education. Make up your mind!”

What’s the matter with you and this idea anyway? You were up for a drinking trip to another continent and a sea voyage for an unknown artefact. But school is where you get cold feet?

Come to think of it, getting the lady out of the castle was like pulling teeth. Making her take a trip to another city would be a medium-degree heroic act. If she didn’t know better she would think that Cassandra was some kind of ghost bound to Whitestone by never-ending unfinished business.

“Fine, Alabaster Lyceum it is. Still, I don’t get what to do with that list. Will you get the penalty in the afterlife if you don’t clear it before the deadline?”

“You tell me. You are the experienced one here.”

“Don’t overestimate me. I’ll ask Vax’ildan next time I go behind the scenes.”

“No going behind the scenes! Wait. Why do you want to ask Vax?”

“He sort of works there.”

“Worked. He was a paladin of a Raven Queen, wasn’t he?”

“A champion. And he is supposed to guide the souls of the deceased to the afterlife.”, Kaylie stared at Cassandra and reflexively opened the next bottle. Clearly, it was a day of curious revelations. “From what I gathered, anyway. I didn’t pry into details. I… should probably stop talking and drinking by now.”

“Oh no, please, do continue. So instead of going gently into that good night, he got himself a courier job?”

“I’m not exactly of liberty to say.”

Kaylie contemplated the idea. When you are a travelling bard you get used to meeting all sorts of eccentric individuals along the way. When you are traveling long enough even the most eccentric of them start to fade away from memory. But a brooding dressed in all-black paladin jumped back into her mind with ease. She had met him a few times and spent no more than a few hours in his company. And yet one contradiction about him always fascinated her. For a person who went to such trouble to create his gloomy persona the main impression he left was of the genuinely caring guy. He cared for just about everything, cared for his friends to be safe, cared for the guests of his friends to be welcomed. Death didn’t sound like such a gruesome perspective if somebody like that was to greet you on the other side.

“Do you think he is happy? Is it, like, a fulfilling job?”

“You pose an interesting philosophical question. I suppose, to serve the holy patron you’ve chosen must be an honor. I sure hope he is happy.”

Kaylie sighed, filled their glasses to the brim and raised hers “To Vax'ildan. He lived with no chill and he died with no chill.”

Cass followed along.

“Come to think of it, he was the one that offed me, right?”

“Daggers were his weapons of choice.”

“That would make a proper bar story – I was killed by an angel of death and brought back. The ballad writes itself.”

“Please, don’t make it into a bar story.”

“I’ll keep my bar story to myself if you keep to your dinner table one.”

“I’m not exactly a talker, nor a social butterfly.” Cass agreed easily.

“Hey, does it make things weird with Vex? Her being the one…”

“No, not really. If anything she was mother-henning over me for some time after that. But she was no less a victim of circumstance than me. She is not the one to blame.”

The coldness and stillness in the tone gave a pretty accurate idea of who was. When father had told her stories of their encounters with the necromancer witch and her vampire husband they sounded fun, a bit creepy at times but mostly fun. Now she could tell with all certainty that seeing a stranger on the doorstep of a place you consider safe was not fun. Being stripped of her own free will was not fun. Seeing the murderers of your family on the doorstep of a place you consider home must be even less fun.

“How are you holding up?”, the words felt clumsy in her mouth, falling short to convey the meaning behind them – How are you even holding up? How are you not coming undone?

“Oh well, been there, done that...”, Cassandra stopped for a moment . Suddenly anger twisted her face and her voice filled with metal as she continued. “You know what’s the most infuriating thing?! It wasn’t even about me. It was my death and the person who orchestrated it didn’t make it about me. It was about playing mind games with my brother or torturing the opponents with guilt, or shattering general moral. Not about her caring enough to want to kill me . And there I thought we had something special.”, she gave a humourless chuckle.

Kaylie slowly moved closer as if approaching a wounded animal and gently took Cassandra’s hand in hers . “I’m sorry. I’m glad, she didn’t succeed , though.”

Cass shivered. Then lightly squeezed her hand in return.

“Right.”, the voice was dry and barely audible.

“Have they all been there? Vox Machina, I mean. Do you think they had talks like that?”

“They must have. With whom else can you talk about that? It must be a heavy burden to carry on your own.”

“Did all of them...?”

“I know that Percy did.”

“Father did. It took a toll on him. Made him cut all the ties and leave that very night. That’s how we ended up in Ank'Harel.”

The words of his speech still echoed through her skull. How his team never really cared, how he failed her, how alone he felt. She knew what it was like to feel abandoned. After all, it was hard not to feel it if you were abandoned before birth. She never related more to her father than that day.

“Percy carried on like it was nothing. He is not the type to look back.”, Cassandra’s voice was bitter, “But hey, we survived.” It wasn’t a question, yet it sounded like one.

“We are pretty fucked up, aren’t we?”

“It appears so.”

Kaylie threw her head back and took a deep breath. Sitting under the vault of the wine cellar reminded her of the fairytale her mother had told her. The one about a hero swallowed by a whale and travelling unharmed in its belly. Outside the ocean was raging. Ahead there was only a future full of uncertainty. But inside it was calm and even cozy. She wasn’t okay, but it was normal not to feel okay after your death and resurrection. It was better than denying it ever happened or keeping a stiff upper lip. She pressed herself closer to her friend's side. Cassandra wrapped her arm around her in return. It felt warm. The calm wouldn’t last long. But for now, they felt better and they didn’t feel alone.

Chapter Text

Scanlan and Pike had decided it was time to get back to Westruun. Kaylie wasn’t quite ready to get back on the road – so far Whitestone provided everything needed for her training. Still, she took the opportunity for a short hike and accompanied the couple to the nearest town. Now when she returned she could look at the castle with a fresh pair of eyes. Big things are better to observe from a distance, in more than literal sense. Suddenly it occurred to her how weird the place was. The size of it made her feel smaller than the depths of a forest where she had spent the previous nights. She had left it for only a few days but her sense of direction in it was already lacking. Finally, she managed to find Cass in her chambers not surprisingly in the middle of work.

“Hey, looks like you are just snowed under! Like it’s snowing outside and you here as well…” Kaylie gave up in the middle of the sentence. That pun was her father’s level of bad.

“You’re back. Did you have a safe travel?”, her friend raised her head from the documents and gave her a warm smile.

“Without a hitch, even boring a bit. Didn’t realise how much I missed sleeping under the sky before, though. What’s you’ve been up to?”

“Well, you know the usual.”, the lady gestured at the pile of papers in front of her.

“Any curious cases? Or obnoxiously stupid meetings?”

“I… I don’t know. Can’t really tell what I’ve been doing for the past few days. This population census project is going to be the end of me.”

She sounded tired, more than usual tired. Kaylie studied her with full attention. Now that she looked closely, Cassandra’s movements were a bit sluggish, her face looked haggard and eyes sunken.

“Have you been sleeping at all? May I?” Without waiting for the response Kaylie extended her arm and touched her friend’s forehead. It was clammy and hot.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra immediately recoiled.

“Are you coming down with something?”

“Looks like somebody has spent too much time with Pike.”

“That may be so. Still, it looks like you have a fever starting. Have you checked with a healer?”

“No. And I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Thank you.” Cass was glaring, but even that was half-hearted, somehow unfocused.

Kaylie should have dropped the issue right there. Thoughtfulness wasn’t her forte and Cassandra’s well-being was her own to worry about. But something was off about it.

She put on her most disarming smile and made her best effort to be the voice of reason, “How about you put off your writing for fifteen minutes and we go find a healer? And when we find out that it’s nothing to worry about, we can return here and I’ll help you with that.”

“Or you can stop distracting me with useless errands in the first place.” The retort was unusually hush and straightforward. Cassandra wasn’t playing nice.

Well, aren’t you bitchy today?

If at first you don’t succeed you take it personally and refuse to give up on the subject. Or at least that was Kaylie’s perspective on things. She tried a different angle.

“Are you afraid of infirmaries?”

“No.”

“I mean I get it. They feed you gross stuff, ask all sorts of personal questions, make you do stupid things. My auntie Cheryl was once prescribed beaver fat for rheumatism. The poor thing took it for a month before they explained to her that it should be applied to her knee and not ingested.”

Cass narrowed her eyes but said nothing and only hid deeper behind the papers.

“Anyway, here’s another story. A boy who lived in the house next to mine, Jaime was his name, so he once stopped talking and every time he tried to exhale he honked like a goose.”

“You are not going to stop, are you?”

“I’m not going to stop what? So it turned out the kids had been playing with goose throat. If you blow through it it makes a sound like a goose. It’s a wonderful thing, I’ll show you. So Jaime, the idiot that he is, accidentally inhaled the goose’s larynx...”

Cassandra abruptly pushed her chair back, stood up and glared at Kaylie from her height. Kaylie answered with the most innocent look. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll go, but only because I need something for a headache now anyway.”

The healer was a middle-aged human with sad kind eyes. He had an unfazed demeanour of a person who worked with people for too long but couldn’t tell them that they were in fact clinically insane. In other words, he didn't lose his temper after the examination but was firm in his recommendations. He patiently and categorically repeated that ‘no, his lady is not going to walk away from him with the beginning of a septic fever’, ‘yes, he has earned some respect in his profession and is certain that condition is serious and can’t wait’, ‘yes, he kindly asks his lady to show him some trust and take a bed rest and restorative potions until further examination’.

The diagnosis made her blood run cold but Kaylie kept it to herself for the time being. Through joint efforts, they managed to make Cassandra retreat to her chambers and get her into bed. Somewhere at this point, Kaylie decided that she had shown enough patience today and some explanation was in order.

“Blood poisoning? Are you serious?”

“I might have gotten a little careless.”

“A little careless?! A lonely wounded traveler in the middle of the forest can die of blood poisoning. Not a lady in her castle surrounded by a hundred-people entourage.”

“You’d be surprised.”, Cass was carefully nursing her drink, purposefully not raising her eyes from the insides of a cup, “I didn’t clean the cut I’d got on training properly. And then I didn’t think about it when feeling unwell because there are plenty more trivial reasons for me to feel unwell. Anyway, I haven’t died. And even if I did, death is unlikely to be something permanent in my case. It’s like a diamond or two, no big deal.”

“That’s rich, after the whole talk we had the other day. Don’t be arrogant. I know you better.”

“Don’t speak to me as if you are my mother. I don’t like it.”

Kaylie sighed in frustration. Nothing about a story of the most methodical person in this part of Exandria suddenly overlooking a major health issue sat right with her. But that conversation wasn’t getting anywhere good.

“It’s just… you got me worried. How about you finish drinking your medicine and we’ll return to that conversation later.”

“Can I do at least that unsupervised?”

“Just humour me.”

Not long after Cass fell asleep. There wasn’t much fight left in her after all. The healer was in the process of gathering his tools.

“Can’t you cast a greater restoration or something?”, Kaylie turned her pent-up frustration to him.

“That is a very powerful magic, which I neither possess nor was granted by any of the gods. However, I’m pretty certain in my skills as a potionist. The lady will be back to health in no time as long as she follows the prescriptions.”, his tone wasn’t irritated but it was clear that he had to answer that question often.

“I meant no disrespect, old man.”

“None taken”, the healer routinely brushed it off and continued after a brief pause, “Besides, there are temples in the city where one can find means to recover faster. But would it be for the better? Today was a close call. If she’s to make a full recovery tomorrow… what’s to stop her from ‘getting careless’ again?”

Kaylie ran her fingers through her hair and inhaled. That wasn’t right. This whole situation wasn’t right. “Why am I here? Why are you telling me those things like I’m the one to make decisions about her health? Doesn’t she have a family or something here?”

“You aren’t. And indeed she does, but he is not here – you are. Family matters are never easy, for lords even more so.”

“Why do people keep throwing titles as a reason for not behaving as a normal human being?”

“Because it’s quite often is. People tend to think that living under one roof means you are close by default. That is not so, especially for such a big roof. Ever heard the expression ‘it’s lonely living in the castle’?”

“Now I have.”

“I’ll inform Lord Percival of the Lady’s condition and he’ll surely check on her. The young lord is a man of many talents. Tenderness may not be one of them.”

Kaylie puffed and rolled her eyes – so fucking polite.

“The important thing is – she listens to you. You don’t have to do anything about it. But I wouldn’t waste it.”

He snapped the bag shut, stood up and headed for the door. Right before it he turned and added, “Insults are common currency for good work. She probably won't admit it but you did a good thing today.”

Kaylie stood alone in silence for a moment. She glanced at her friend’s sleeping form. Cass was out of danger – she should have felt relief. Instead, her mind was catching on to the whole situation. People can get careless, people make mistakes. She was a prime example of that, there wasn’t a rational bone in her body. Cassandra must have been sick for days. Sick people don’t think clearly, therefore don’t look for help – end of story. Yet she didn’t like the selectivity of those mistakes.

Kaylie rubbed her eyes. Cass wouldn’t like being watched in her sleep, she should be going to her room. She contemplated the distance she needed to walk. After today’s turmoil, it was entirely possible to pass out from exhaustion in the middle of the walk and crack her head open on a marble floor. That would be an anticlimactic death but a decent addition to gruesome stories of the place. Why would anybody build such a humongous thing? Why would anybody decide to live in such a thing? She sighed and tucked the blanket under Cass before leaving the room.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, her fever broke. Cassandra woke up with clarity in her mind one can only feel after a few days of struggling with the background delirium. Her body was rested but still fragile. Stupid cut. Why couldn’t her body just obey her and work properly? She felt her shoulder. The wound that brought so much trouble was deceptively calm. She was in a comfortable place where sedation had already worn off but painkillers kept working. A rare and welcomed state of calm. Considering that she had nothing better to do with her thoughts, she let them wander.

Ever since Kaylie had told her about the Alabaster Lyceum, Cassandra’s mind kept coming back to the idea of education. That was something people of her age and place in society did, right? She hadn’t been particularly scholarly in her childhood, and then things got really difficult really quickly. Things were still really difficult. So why dwell on that idea now?

There was one very good, very practical reason for that – she was running a fast-growing, recovering after crisis city. One of the primal sources of income of that city was whitestone ore and its more precious refined form – residuum. A universal amplifier and donor for any arcane magic. Residuum was endemic for Alabaster Sierras. Whitestone was the only place it could be quarried. Residuum was also the reason her family was slaughtered overnight and her city occupied. Then undead roamed its streets for five years and no one in the whole Tal’dorei government batted an eye as long as the ore supplies were on schedule.

If they were to truly recover after that crisis, they needed to become more than useful for the rest of the continent, they needed to become significant. Cassandra was way out of her depth here. Beginner's luck and ability to work under pressure could get her only so far. Formal education could give her knowledge, education in the capital could give her connections.

Then again, another argument could be made. That she was out of her depth period. She was never raised to be a leader. The youngest of her siblings, she was supposed to become a prime example of a spoiled society girl. Percy at least was the clever one.

Cassandra took a deep breath. The thought made her sick. That was one but not the only reason she thought of Lyceum. A childish part of her wanted an escape. It didn’t matter where just out of here. Whitestone was all she knew from her birth. She knew every corner and every street. She also was aware of every suffering it had been through and every suffering she coursed it. That knowledge haunted her. Was running such a bad idea? At the very least she would be running towards, not from something this time.

Cassandra tossed to the side and glanced at the desk in the depth of her room. She couldn’t properly see in the dark but knew it was filled with papers. There would be more of those tomorrow. And so it didn’t matter what she was dreaming about in the middle of a fever dream or what was the reasoning behind it. She turned her face to the wall, wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and closed her eyes.

Chapter Text

The first time she arrived at the damned city was to witness her father's dead body. The second was after her kidnapping by a wannabe-god. Things could only go up from there, right? How could the third time leave her more devastated than the other two? Hold that thought. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“Remind me why we’ve decided to climb the spiral stairs for twenty minutes today?”

“Because there’s a great view!”

“I thought we figured out that’s what the gazebo is for!”

“That’s for surface-level view, it’s not the same thing.”

“Really?! I’ve been bellow. If I need a view from up high, I’ll climb up your shoulders.”

“You flatter my physique.”

“I really don’t.”

Cassandra chuckled, the last time she was bickering like that was probably with Ludwig and Oliver. Her health had been restoring slower than she wanted but steadily. The major concern was the remaining lack of focus. Her mind worked like clockwork in conversations, but the moment she got down to work it refused to cooperate. Today she had given her best to fairly common petitions waiting for approval. After two hours of struggling and failing to hold track of more than two sentences in her memory, she gave up and resorted to a day off out of necessity. Kaylie seemed more than happy with that. Or at least she had been until Cass insisted on climbing her favourite tower in the castle.

Now they had finally reached its top. Cassandra took a deep breath. The chill was bracing. The wind from the mountains pushed at her, smoothing her short hair. She walked to the platform's edge and sat with her legs dangling down. The feeling of weightlessness calmed her legs buzzing after the long climb. It was her favourite feeling in the world and one of her favourite places in the world. In her darkest hours, it managed to bring her joy. Personal experience spoke for itself. Right now she was enjoying the familiar site through the eyes of a friend. Not every day you find the way to leave the bard speechless.

In front of them, the Alabaster Sierras grinned at the sky in their jagged glory. Frost-covered trees of Parchwood Timberlands embraced the mountains' roots. In front of it rested narrow checked fields of farmland. Right below stretched a sea of rooftops forming the great city of Whitestone.

“Was I right or was I right?”

It took a long moment for Kaylie to respond, “They kinda look like ships, the rooftops.”

“That’s because the city was originally founded by sea explorers from Port Damali. They were built to resemble ship bows.”

“Huh, never noticed it from below.” She took a sit by her side, grabbed a pebble and threw it down. No sound returned to her. “It’s a long way down. Ever considered how long a fall will be from here?”

As a matter of fact, she had. Her best answer was – long enough to lethally damage the body, not long enough to leave nothing for a necromancer to work with.

“Hard to tell, you won’t be plunging straight from the top. At such altitude, the wind is so strong it will pick you up and carry a bit.”

“Mmm, like a flying squirrel.”

“It’s nothing like it, but yes.”

They enjoyed a moment in silence. The day was unusually bright for Whitestone. The winter was turning to its best, most delightful part – the first month of spring. Cassandra frowned at the thought. In the right company time flies. That meant that she might not enjoy said company for a lot longer. Eventually, even the longest and hardest music scores are learned right to a T. Kaylie’s thoughts must have been on a similar track.

“Feels like the Winter’s Crest was just a week ago. And now it’s almost spring.”

“Are you thinking to set out on your journey?”

“I’ll have to, sooner or later. Not that I want to let go of –”, she gestured around the scenery below, “all that. But the Lyceum isn’t going to get to me, so I’ll have to get to it.”

“I see. You are welcomed to visit any time you like.”

“Right.”, she took a deep breath and continued, “Or, you can come with me and discover the wonders of student life!”

Here they go again. If at first Kaylie had been carefully nagging her with the idea lately she became completely relentless. Maybe it was because of the seek leave or maybe she made some weird bet with herself, that Cass didn’t get.

“Kaylie, we’ve been through this.”

“So? You’ve never given me a good reason for you not to do it.”

“Did I not? There are matters I need to see through here. My upbringing has been too, let’s say eclectic, to get me through the Alabaster Lyceum’s doors. It’s just not the right time and place.”

“Those are not good reasons.”

“Kaylie.”

“If you told me that you don’t want to, that would be a good reason.”, Kaylie turned to Cass and stared her directly in the eyes, “Why are you like that? Can’t you see that’s too much? I don’t know a second thing about leadership. But even I understand that some things you do can be done by a secretary! It’s just… why don’t you hire one? Hell, why don’t you ask Percy to build you a writing automaton or something?!”

“It’s not exactly his skill set. Wait? What does Percy have to do with it?”

“Because he can literally do that! Because the matters of the city, you care so much about, are as much his as they are yours, if not more. Because that would instantly make your life easier.”

That was a sudden escalation. It was hard to decide what was more disturbing here the direction where the conversation was going or its speed. Cassandra tried to take the reins back.

“Kaylie, I admire your candour, but you are speaking out of place. My brother has his hands full of projects just as much as I am –”

She was setting up levels of formality between them as last-minute lines of defence. It was too little too late – Kaylie cut right through them.

“Have you asked? What if he can carve out some time for you?”

The words triggered an immediate response in her. Frustration. The kind of frustration one feels when they don’t find an item where they left it. There was a perfect reason for her not to do it. Where was it?

“I’d rather you didn’t dwell on my family affairs.”

Kaylie pinched the bridge of her nose, “Cass, you are the smartest person I know, but you are also the most arrogant person I know. Why are you acting like Whitestone is tied to your neck? Why do you refuse to even consider a life outside of it?”

Cassandra sighed. There was a way to put an end to that conversation. A painful one. Kaylie wouldn’t look at her the same when she learned the truth. She probably wouldn’t look at her at all anymore. Strangely that made her want to answer the question even more. The words burned her tongue. It was worth telling that story if only to make another living soul understand what she had done. What else are crimes good for if not to confess?

“There.”, she pointed at the city district on the outskirts, “See the newly built houses out there? Blue-tiled roofs.”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“They are new because the Briarwoods burnt down the old ones.”, she paused steeling herself for the next part, “It was after the second rebellion. Normally, they would hang the unwanted on the Suntree. Or any other tree for that matter. But at that time they didn’t want people to know how many rebels there were. So they took everyone they captured to those shabby wooden houses, boarded up the exits and burnt everyone alive.”

“Holy shit, Cass. That’s horrible.”

“I handed over the rebels to them.”, she fixed her gaze on the blue roofs. Anything but looking Kaylie in the face.

Kaylie uttered a choking sound. “How? Why?”

“That’s a big question ‘why?’. Honestly, I wish I could give you one straightforward answer. The truth is, there were many things.”

She paused, swallowed. Her mind reached out for those dark waters it was avoiding every conscious moment. She needed that answer – why?

“One thing was Sylas’s mind control, of course. You know, when people think about being charmed they imagine not thinking clearly. Clouded mind , so to speak. It's the exact opposite. When you are charmed, everything is crystal clear. Nothing to worry about, nothing to doubt. You are never so certain when you think on your own. That's why it's so hard to break.”

She paused again, gaze still transfixed on the blue roofs. That’s not right, that doesn’t answer the question. Don’t beg for sympathy. Just lay out the facts to her.

“So one theory is – I was charmed by the vampire. Plain and simple. But that’s not true. Maybe I was but not for the important parts. The other thing was Delilah and her whispers.”, she started picking at her nails, “For all the horrible things that she has done, I think the worst part was that she, in her own, perverted way, indeed loved me. Or at least I was valuable to them and it was almost as if they cared about me, for lack of anything better.”

A cold, sharp wind whistled in her ears. She felt empty but still needed to continue.

“But there were days when my mind was indeed my own and… there was just nothing I could do. Nothing to start a great liberation war, simply running for my life wasn’t an option. Compromise was the best I could do. So... I told myself I was choosing the lesser evil. Then Percy and the team arrived. Suddenly there was something I could do. Even then I didn’t bring myself to it until the last moment. Maybe I was too far gone. Or maybe the fact that he hadn’t saved me outweighed the fact that they could save the whole city. The truth is I don’t know anymore. There are so many layers to that story that I can no longer tell which one of them is true.”

Her fingers were red and messy. She made herself to let go of them. It was strange they didn’t sting. Probably, because of the cold.

“Only a few people know that I collaborated. After the Briarwoods there were a lot more pressing matters. And later it was a lot easier to leave things as they were for… just about everybody. Most members of the council have a vague idea of what my role in the failure of the second rebellion was. They attribute it to mind control.”

There was a long charged pause.

“If you had refused to collaborate would it have stopped them?” The voice sounded so remote, that she was half certain it came from within her head.

“Probably no.”

“I see. So what choice did you have?”

“It’s… subjunctive mood is no use here. It already happened. The only thing I can do is to spend my life mending what I have destroyed and hope it will be enough.”

“Right. Let me check if I follow your story correctly. You were isolated and left to your own devices for a very long time. That made you do horrible things to survive. And now you are atoning for them.”

She couldn’t hold a bitter smirk. Her friend was straightforward to a fault. “That’s pretty accurate.”

“For how long?”

“What?”

“How long do you need to atone? Or in what way? Based on what conditions you decide that it’s enough?”

Cassandra narrowed her eyes. The confession had exhausted her. Her mind still heavy and sluggish couldn’t catch on to what was demanded of it. What kind of questions was that? Was Kaylie mocking her? After she revealed the source of her deepest shame and suffering?

“Don’t you understand? It’s not a list of things I can cross off and be done with it –”

“You punish yourself, but there are no conditions on the scale of that punishment or on how to make things right.” Kaylie’s expression was grim, she hadn’t seen her so grim before. “You realise that’s just violence, don’t you?”

“I… I hoped you’d understand.”

“The only thing I do understand is that you are hurting yourself! And yes, I don’t understand, why it's so important for you who or what is to blame. Who cares why you did those things?! It happened. In the past.The important thing is what comes next. You want to know what I see when I see those blue roofs? I see new houses where once were only ashes.”

Suddenly, Cass felt a creeping worry overcoming her. She looked down all too well aware of how high she was and how long was the fall. The gentle equilibrium was shaken and she needed to cease control of it before it was too late. Kaylie couldn’t be right. She just didn’t get it. It was pointless to explain any further.

“How about you stop.”

“All right. You have zero self-preservation. I figured. How about that for an argument – you behave as if this city is an infant that wouldn’t last a day without you. But cities don't work that way! They don't rely on one responsible adult to exist. If that’s the truth, it’s already as good as gone!”

The words triggered another emotion in her – far more exhilarating, a lot less paralysing. Rage. She succumbed to it with ease. How did Kaylie dare question her authority? Since when she was allowed an opinion here? Clearly, Cassandra had indulged this travesty enough.

“That wasn’t a request. I want you to stop. This conversation is over. From now on keep your opinions for yourself or take you and them elsewhere.”

“You are not serious about it, are you?”

“I am serious. Which word do you fail to understand?”

It was callous, cruel and wrong. And it came to her naturally. Kaylie watched her with a broken expression. For a moment she looked as if she was about to do something stupid – like apologise or give her a hug. But she pulled herself together. When she spoke her answer was filled with venom. “Maybe I will take my opinions elsewhere.”

Cassandra was left alone again to nothing but a feeling of cold. A persistent chill. It was for the best. Kaylie would have left anyway. Like all the others did. That way she was at least in control. It was her decision – no use to regret it. Her vision blurred. She wiped her face with her hand.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken Kaylie long to frantically shove all her belongings into the travel bag and be on her way. She needed to get out before she started thinking. Thinking was for fools. Thinking was clearly how smart not religious people talked with the devil here. Kaylie knew better, right now she saw red and refused to see anything past it.

She was crossing the square before the castle when her gaze stumbled upon the paving stones. They looked clean, polished and indifferent. No blue-blooded corpses for the old castle today. But there was always tomorrow. Don’t look back! Don’t look back, you idiot!

Fine, it had been fine just a moment ago. Why couldn’t they stick to a normal if a bit gruesome conversation? No, that was the wrong line of thought. It hadn’t been fine, because nothing was ever fine with those ivory tower fuckers. They tolerate you until they don’t, then they tell you to go fuck yourself in three-syllable words.

Her insidious memory slipped her a thought about the recent talk. About the long way down. She turned and quickly glanced over the roof of the castle wing connected with the tower. Nothing. From down here it was impossible to tell if there was still a figure on top of the castle’s tower or if it was indeed empty. Fuck. Kaylie sighed and turned back to the castle. She lost the momentum.

She stared at the armoured door in front of her and questioned every decision that had led her to that moment in time. Kaylie had run out of words of wisdom or encouragement with Cassandra. If there was a way to reason it was beyond her. But maybe the person behind that door could. Maybe some fraction of her truly believed that or maybe she was bargaining with her conscience, or probably she was just too stubborn for her own good. Hells, she must have caught the local plague – self-reflection.

The corridor of the basement floor was completely empty. The guard, who was either the same or lookalike of the guy who wouldn’t have let her through the very first day, winced at her request but said nothing and showed her the way only to hurry back to his post with poorly masked relief.

She took a deep breath and knocked at the door. First politely but firmly, then with a bit more irritation. A second round was graced with muffled sounds from the other side which could be interpreted as ‘...busy!’ . Kaylie gritted her teeth. One good thing about metal doors is that they rumble. She turned her back to the door and started drumming at it with her foot. It took a minute for her persistence to be rewarded, but finally, she heard the steps headed towards the door. It cracked open, a white head stuck out of it, glasses flashed with irritation at somebody two feet above Kaylie’s head.

“What in the sweet name of Pelor is going on?! I thought I’d given clear instructions not to interrupt my process –”, he finally noticed an empty space in front of him and looked around. Upon discovering Kaylie his face took a special type of surprised expression.

He probably has just figured out I was here, to begin with.

“Kaylie, to what do I earn the pleasure?”

“We need to talk”, she said while pushing him inside the workshop. There was no taking the benefit of home turf from him but at least she kept an element of surprise.

The tinkerer’s lair was a wild mixture of a forge, chemical laboratory, study and, judging by the half-singed couch, an emergency night quarters. Percival let her in and immediately took the position behind the desk putting it between them like a line of defense. In front of him was a blueprint of something ambitious, complicated and without any doubt very important. She suddenly became acutely aware of how similar the siblings were to each other.

“Do you know what your sister is at?”, she got straight to the point.

“My sister?”

“Yes. A girl about my age, shorter than you, stylish hair with strikes of white. Ring a bell?”

His pressed against the table fingertips turned white. “I remember what my sister looks like. What kind of insinuation is that?”

“Do you?”

“I beg your pardon, what is exactly the nature of the relationship between you two?”

“The nature of the relationship?! We pass nights reading smut and braiding each other’s hair – that’s the nature of our relationship!”

An obvious lie - it was dubious that such a level of relationship with Cassandra even existed. But the way Percy’s face twisted at the statement was the most delightful thing she saw today.

“Stroke a nerve, did I? Is it just me or is it the idea that your sister is in fact a human being?”

“Kaylie, I’m going to ignore all the evidence otherwise and assume that you have something of importance to say. What’s wrong with Cass? Is it about her injury?”

The second part sounded almost like concern. The pleasure of putting somebody on edge immediately vanished. It was not the reason she was here. It was probably the exact opposite of it.

“No, it’s not about that. It’s –”, she stopped short. It wasn’t clear where to go after that, “She is overworking.”

Brilliant, Kaylie. You have such a way with words, you must be a poet.

“Yes, and? She is a hard worker. Has it ever occurred to you that having a high status here comes with responsibility, not just owning too many names or silverware? Don’t worry, I’m not going to check.”

Has it ever occurred to you that with the height difference between us your balls are the least protected part of your body?

It took her all willpower but she didn’t say that out loud. She had just been there – came with the best intentions only to antagonize her friend beyond any measure.

“There’s the difference between ‘working hard’ ‘and exhausting oneself’”

A reasonable thing to do would be to state her case plain and simple, then back it up with the best arguments she could master. Arguments. She had made a few good ones, back at the top of the tower. It served her just right. She felt the last vestiges of her fury leaving her and fatigue taking its place – the worst kind of hangover. Gods, there was a reason she never sorted things out sober.

“Or maybe it is about her injury as well. She is ignoring herself. Burying herself in her work. And… I just don’t know, at this point, my only explanation why Cass hasn't burned herself together with that city is a statistical anomaly.”

“Kaylie, let's not be dramatic.” There was a special note of weaponised politeness in his words. What she heard was, Careful now. Such words are not used lightly here.

“I’m not. Being desperate is what I am. It’s just... she is an amazing person...”

It was pathetic. All her words were pathetic. What was she even hoping to achieve here? That this emotional deadwood would give his sister a hug and somehow instantly heal her through the magic of sibling love? Then again, what would she know? Maybe that was how it worked.

“Are you serious right now? Do you seriously believe that she would…”

“For fuck’s sake, yes. You know about her abuse more than I do – is it so hard to believe that she is tired of that place? That this place is hurting her?”

Percy’s fingers absent-mindedly rubbed the frame of his glasses as if it suddenly became too tight for him. For a moment it looked like he would finally take them off but he caught himself at it.

“It has been working before. Why is it not working anymore?” Now he was frustrated. The frustration of an engineer who couldn’t find a calculation error, but at least they were on the same page.

“Because it shouldn't have been working in the first place! From what I gathered you could fill in a cemetery with friends and family members she had lost. I’m trying to count the amount of shit she deals with on a daily basis but that’s impossible and downright scary.”

Kaylie rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could feel all her words betraying her.

“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to argue, it’s just a force of habit. I’m leaving now. I… I just can’t stand watching her destroying herself and being helpless anymore. And I’m worried for her. I guess, I came here to –”

To do what? To tell him to talk to her? To keep an eye on her?

“I came here to say that your sister needs your help.”

He wasn’t towering over the table anymore. He was sitting and somehow looked small. His voice was quiet when he spoke but full of resolve. “I know. It’s been a long overdue.”

Chapter Text

Foxhunting was a cruel and barbaric sport. What had originally started as a way to procure precious fur and protect livestock now turned into a bloodbath for amusement. The Parchwood was crawling with far more formidable and challenging prey: wild boars, deer, werewolves. Sadly, challenging made for a bad social event. And so foxes became a traditional punchbag for The Grand Hunt of Whitestone – feral enough to be enjoyable to chase but not a real threat.

Worst of all was the sound of arrows winging the air. A sharp and deep whistle, sometimes followed by a desperate shriek of a fox indistinguishable from a woman’s cry. Unfortunately, that was not the line of thinking the lady of the city, which major traditional craft was hunting, could say out loud.

The night before had given Cassandra little to no rest. The only thing she wanted right now was to fall asleep for nine years. Was there the time she looked forward to the Hunt? She didn’t remember anymore. At least now Vex’alia was the new mistress of the Grey Hunt. All Cassandra needed to do was to suck it up, pass the baton of a stupid tradition and maybe next year nobody would notice her absence.

A sudden cough behind her back made her jump, hand flying to the hilt of a ceremonial dagger – generally useless but as a last-hour weapon it would do.

“Percival! Did nobody teach you to knock?”

“I did. You didn’t respond.”

She gave her brother a look over. He was all formally dressed and ready. Had she gotten that careless?

“Well then, what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to see... if you are alright. Before everything.”

“Percy, you only appear when you need something. I don’t have time for courtesy right now. Cut to the chase.”

“That was uncalled for.”

Maybe today it was. But ever since the fall out on the tower something inside of her was thirsty for the blood of every single meaningful person in her life.

“Cass, please, it’s obvious that you are not enjoying all this. I understand the hunt can be a lot for you. Just say the word and I’ll take it from here. Vex will be delighted to do it.”

“Not everybody can only do things that they enjoy. You’ve always made a point of how you hated those events.”

“I did and I do.”

“Why do you care then?”

“I may hate the hunt but I can manage myself and I’m not the one looking like they are about to throw up.”

So that’s what it’s about.

She clenched her fists and spoke slowly, carefully measuring the venom in her voice, “If you are insinuating that I can’t perform my duties –”

“No. That’s not what I said, no. You are perfectly capable and so tough that if you hold a piece of coal in your hand for 48 hours it will turn it into a diamond!”

“What?”, the last sentence felt like getting a stroke in the middle of a conversation – she understood all the words individually but the meaning eluded her.

“Cass, I’m only trying to offer help.”, he took off his glasses and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. A minute of family talk had exhausted him more than a day in a forge.

“Well, that’s new. I’ve asked you a dozen times before. Why start now?”

He shrugged weakly. “Now I'm here.”

She couldn’t hold a snarl. “Right, let's see how long that lasts.”

“Gods, you are infuriating! This is not how I wanted it to go down, but apparently, that's how it's happening. I didn’t come to you and offer help because I thought you had it figured out!”

“Well, isn’t that convenient for you!”

“It has nothing to do with convenience! I was ashamed. Every time I looked at you I was racked with shame.”, he mindlessly kept fiddling with his glasses, “I've been wondering for months now, how do you manage to keep yourself together. You are always focused, you have a system, people trust you. And the only answer I managed to find was – I'm a horribly broken person with a horribly broken perception of right and wrong and the best I can do is not to get better people in my bullshit and maybe try to do some good.”

Her mind went blank somewhere after the word ‘shame’. The fatigue overwhelmed her suddenly and fully as an avalanche. She could feel her muscles locking on and all movement becoming incredibly difficult, next to impossible.

“Percy, I… I can’t deal with that. I can't deal with your mess right now.”

Her hand reached to loosen the collar of her uncomfortable formal coat. She searched for the reason she had forced herself into that coat and couldn’t find it.

“I don’t feel so good. Have it your way, I’ll stay. Make an excuse for me, or don’t. I don’t care.”

She didn’t remember how she returned to her chambers, took off the clothes and curled up in bed. Cassandra felt fully and utterly defeated. Why did she have to go off like that? Now Percy would do what he was best at – avoiding her. That was the second person she had lashed out and severed connections with in a week. That was probably a record. At this rate, she would be fighting Trinket by Sunday. She sneered bitterly. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t funny at all.

To her surprise, she found him in the library the next day. Percy lifted his head from the documents and casually nodded at her as if they had scheduled to meet here the day before.

“Have you eaten today?”, he asked in an overly neutral voice. Cassandra glared in response. “Please, give me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer.”

“Yes.”, she responded dryly.

She approached him gingerly, walking in a semicircle like he was an unknown object fallen from the sky.

“Stop staring at me like that. I told you before there will be no running this time.”

They stood in awkward silence both staring. Finally, she found the courage to break it. “How did it go yesterday?”

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary. Vex killed it in more sense than one.”, he said it with a brief fond smile then his eyes locked on the ground, “She asked about you. Do you mind if she checks on you today? At your convenience.”

“That would be most gracious of her. I’m sorry I forced that duty on her and at such short notice.”

Silence fell between them again. Eventually, he straightened himself up and met her gaze. “Now, tell me what you actually need me to do.”

Cassandra studied him with unflagging attention. What was his game here? Was he making a point? Was he trying to guilt-trip her for yesterday? Did he finally lose trust in her? He stood motionless with intense expression, waiting for this analysis paralysis to wear off. In any case, it was a zugzwang. She had to make a move, might as well tell a blatant truth. Couldn’t go more poorly than the last time, could it?

“I need your help with the population census. And I mean real help, not just promises. I know it's not interesting, it's routine and tedious and nobody calls you a hero at the end. But I need it.”

Percy nodded, “I’ll look into it right off. By the sound of it, it’s a giant mess but accomplishable if we put our minds to it.”

She was so exhausted after yesterday that for a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe it. A momentary indulgence, not an actual belief.

“I… I really like the sound of that.”

She expected him to get bored, impatient and eventually escape the chore with some semi-decent excuse. He did get bored. They all did. Collecting data from the population census was as exciting as counting floorboards. Maybe the floorboards had more variety to them. They fought constantly at first and over the most petty things. It took a lot of trial and error for their managing styles to click. Cassandra couldn’t understand why they had to ‘waste time’ on new approaches. Percy refused to believe that there was no king's road in statistics. Yet at no point he attempted to escape it. Vex joined them at a certain point and together they spent days in the library staying up till midnight making it work. Those days of sitting at the desk piled with documents brought them closer than the dinner table ever could.

One morning she walked into a library to find Percy at his usual place and didn’t bother to be surprised, not even on the outskirts of her mind. Slowly but steadily she got used to their presence and then to relying on somebody but herself. It was one of those days over documents when she decided to tell him that it was her turn to get out. He didn’t question it, even though he didn’t seem to understand it. He just told her he would get in touch with some tutors. They did come back to the subject at some point, however.

“I have to ask, and I'm asking not arguing, why the Alabaster Lyceum? Why not just a vacation? Take a week, a month, take as much as you need just for yourself.”

Cass frowned, arms folded on her chest. The same thought had crossed her mind before. “I don’t think vacations do us any good. Think about it. You have no aim. No duties, no deadlines to meet. Nothing but boredom and your thoughts. What will happen to you if you are just left alone with yourself for a while?”

The idea made him grimace as if from touching a long-time rotten and not treated tooth. It hurt and he should have known better than to try. “I'll probably end up with a prototype of a residuum bomb in a fortnight. Point taken.”

“Let’s face it, brother – none of us are healthy enough to afford a vacation.”

“We’ll get there one day.”

“One day.”, she smiled slightly, “What I’m saying is, I need a goal to work to, something to anchor me. And, you see, we don’t have much time.”

Percy adjusted his glasses. “What do you mean?”

She took a deep breath, “Well. No one knows what that new republic of Tal'Dorei is supposed to be. I think the only reason anybody bothers to build it is because the guy who announced it died a martyr's death immediately after. Also, half of the elite followed him in rapid succession. The important thing is De Rollo's place in it will be what we make it to be now. Time is of the essence here. We have a few calm years at best – What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He tilted his head back, eyes grinning, “I’m looking shamelessly proud.”, he paused and continued more seriously, “What makes you not content with our place in Tal’Dorei as of now?”

“Because we are only of use to the rest of the country as a source of residuum.”

“Yes, and we have a monopoly over it.”

She ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. “As long as we are on top we do. And if crisis comes, we won’t be able to afford to be fussy with the purchasers. You are so overly protective of that blackpowder experiment of yours. But shards of residuum blow up buildings, it can be turned into drugs. There are rumours of it being used in experiments on people. I want us to be more than merchants of that thing.”

“First, don't diminish my issues with possible mass-destruction consequences.”, 'I'm very proud of them' remained very pointedly unsaid.

He went silent for a moment, long fingers rubbing the side of his cheek. “You are right. And that blackpowder experiment of mine is a problem on its own. So you want to fix it?”

“I want to understand how to do it. For a start.”

Percy stayed silent for one more moment then added, “There’s one more thing you’ll need, regardless of your goals.”

“I’m listening.”

“Friends. Not connections, friends. People who put you first, not your status, not even Whitestone. That’s a valuable resource.”

Cass sighed. She had a feeling he was talking about one specific person. “I might have wasted it already.”

“You’ve wasted nothing. Just apologize and see what happens.”

“As if she’ll listen to me.”

“I have a feeling she will. In my experience, the other people are a lot more forgiving than the two of us. For the better or for worse.”

“It’s not like I have the means to contact her anyway.”

“I have. Or I know a person who has. Write her a letter. You are very good at writing letters.”

She shrugged her shoulders evasively.

“Cass?”

She hummed.

“If that’s the goal you pursue, it’s important for you to be happy.”

Cass couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Marriage and upcoming parenting mellowed him down faster than expected.

“No. Don’t do that. There are many reasons why I need you to be happy. But if you really want to get us out of that predicament, the solution should come from a good place. This thing –”, he patted his thigh where the holster hid, “certainly didn’t and now we have two problems instead of one. That being said, it’s not the main reason, but it’s a damn good one.”

That was the sweetest thing that ever made her depressed – happiness wasn’t her element at all.

“So with all that in mind, my question is – do you like what you are doing here? Do you like being here?”

“I want to like it here. I used to like it here. But I don’t remember why anymore.”, she said it first and then caught herself at how straightforward she was.

“Good. Then go.”

Chapter Text

“This is a sending stone – you can contact us with it once a day.”
“I am familiar.”
“This is a gate stone, you already know what to do with it. And this-", Percy made a dramatic pause and passed her a wood box, "Is Diplomacy. In case somebody gives you trouble.”
Cassandra opened the box and examined a metal and leather gauntlet enchased with a familiar green gem. “And there I thought we’ll need a whole course on it.”
She looked back at her brother, eyebrows raised in silent question.
“It electrocutes things at a touch. Light, easy to hide under ordinary gloves, non-lethal, unless you get… creative about it.”
“Percy, what do you think I will do with it?”
“I don’t know, I just want you to have it. Come on, try it on. It should fit.”
She obeyed and pulled on the gauntlet. It was a lot lighter and more flexible than it looked, with a good solid grip. Not the most conventional sign of sibling love, but she could get used to it.
“Are you going to pull out a rifle next?”
“I thought about making a version of Paper-box for you, but that felt more like you.”
“You remember that I’m going to the Lyceum, not venturing into Underdark, don’t you?”
“You’ll never know and I want you to have those. Can’t you see that I’m doing my best at being supportive? Cooperate with me.”
“You are doing remarkably good.”, she hid her genuine pride behind the mockingly proud expression.
“Right.”, Percy ruffled hair on the back of his head, inhaled as if before jumping into icy water and rattled off, “Don’t mix wine with beer – always commit to one thing. Don’t make deals with demons – it’s basically an infernal version of a payday loan, there’s always a better offer. And, that glove. Use it poorly. Honour your five dead siblings, use it poorly.”
“Now you sound scary. What’s gotten into you? Did you find out you are deathly ill?”
“This is a ‘just in case’ package.”
“It’s... going to be okay.”
She reached for a hug. He lovingly pushed her into the heraldic buttons of his coat in return. It was a bit uncomfortable, still new and nice. She let her head rest a long moment on his chest before pushing away.
Vex helped her pack the gifts to the rest of her luggage. Without thinking or discussing they headed towards the Suntree. There was no point – Keyleth wasn’t waiting for her to open up the passage. She might as well use the gate stone in her bedroom. But it didn’t feel right – at the end of the day, all roads in Whitestone led to and from the Suntree. Suddenly, she felt uneasy, almost guilty. This time she was the one leaving him behind.
“Are you sure you will be alright?”
Percy shrugged. “No. Yes. Not sure I can be trusted. I'll do it anyway.”
“We’ve got it, darling. I’ll make sure nobody, well, fucks up what you’ve done here. You can relax and focus on important things.”, Vex’s hand found hers, "Are you sure you want to get right to Emon? Take a trip. I know beautiful villages in the area.”
Cassandra shook her head. “The offer is tempting but I’d rather not take the long way. More time on the road means more time on second-guessing.”
Vex’ahlia pursed her lips as if she wanted to object but changed her mind and smiled reassuringly instead. “Nonsense! Everything is going to be fine and you are going to be great. They don’t know yet how lucky they are to have you!”

The moment the glyph on the gate stone had faded she regretted not heeding the advice about the trip. The teleportation gave no feeling of gradual transition. One moment you were in one place and a second after in another – with a different climate and a time zone. It felt not real. It felt like a stupid joke.
The next few days passed in this state of derealisation. She found her academic building. A couple of future classmates came to say hi. They seemed nice. Not real but nice. She searched for some emotions inside of her like excitement or worry, or anything really but it was like searching for small fishes in a big aquarium. They were there somewhere but she didn’t find them and couldn’t connect with any of them anyway.
At a certain point, Cass decided she needed a hit in the face. It could either help or couldn’t hurt. She mustered up all her courage and went looking for Kaylie. They had been talking or at least corresponding throughout the past months. That didn’t help her feeling uneasy when knocking at the door.
“Well, won’t you look at that? You made it. Wouldn’t believe it, if I didn’t see it myself!” Kaylie’s voice sounded rusty as if she’d just woken up although it was the middle of the day. She looked a bit cranky and very much real.
“You must have mixed feelings about seeing me here.”
“At the moment I’m feeling hungry. You want to go grab something?”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
It was as awkward start as any other. Kaylie took the lead and found them a rather pleasant place to eat and sit outside. They picked some food and a few subjects to discuss. Pointedly casual, really easy softballs. Both could feel the conversation circling back to the unnamed subject. As usual, it was Kaylie who finally went to the point.
“Can I ask you a question? And you can tell me to fuck off.”
Cass breathed out slowly, “Yes?”
“Back then, on the tower. Why did you get angry? When I was talking about Whitestone.”
“Oh, I wasn’t angry at first. I was scared and then you gave me a way to escape with anger.”
Kaylie frowned and stared at her bewildered, “That makes even less sense. What was there to be scared of?”
“You told me I wasn’t guilty.”
“Yes! Exactly!”
Cass sighed. She had a long time to think it over and still understood a fraction of her motivation. Explaining it to somebody else would be fun. She owed it to Kaylie nonetheless.
“Being guilty means being in control. And I was robbed of control too many times before to let it go. It’s far easier to hoard all the blame than to face the fact that I was taken advantage of. It’s a perverted logic, I know that now. But I was the best I’d got at the moment.”
“Long story short, you are too smart for your own good.”
“You know what I like about you? Your talent to summarise things.”
Kaylie picked at her food and then asked, “Do you still think you are guilty?”
“No, not entirely. I don’t know how I feel about it yet.”
Kaylie observed her for a moment, then said deadly seriously, “Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll cut you.”
“I would expect nothing less.”, a small unwilling smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Tension eased between them. They were not all right just yet, but not a complete mess either. Cass had seen worse. Cass had worked with worse. They finished their food and went on a walk with no definite direction.
“So. Did you get your schedule already?”, Kaylie asked casually.
“Mmm-hmm”
“What does it look like?”
“Like our autumn trip to Hupperdook will have to wait a little while.”
“And the pre-calamity cities expedition as well, I assume?”
“It appears so. It’s okay though. Only an idiot will jump head-on into it. We need to prepare anyway.”
“Yeah, we have time.”
Cass thought about her new burdens: she’d have to actually study on a regular basis, and keep up with the class and the textbooks must be really heavy. She thought about it and almost laughed freely and childishly. A numbness in her heat slowly gave way to joy. Cass and Kaylie continued their journey. They had a long way ahead of them.