Shadow Slave

The being remembered its name.

She was Cassia, Song of the Fallen. A blind seer who was destined to bear witness to fate...

Or at least, she had been.

Fate was torn and mutilated, after all. She had mutilated it. Fate had been delivered a mortal wound by the very beings who were supposed to be its heralds, and was now coming undone as the promised future ceased to exist.

Song of the Fallen was not a mere witness anymore. She was an architect of what was to come, instead. Destruction, salvation... no matter what end awaited them in the future, she would have built it with her own frail hands.

‘Does that True Name fit me, still?’

The being — Cassia — observed the dark expanse of shattered memories once more. Now that she knew who she had been, she could discern which ones were her own better.

But not well enough to gain clarity.

She had been a strange existence, it seemed. She was someone who had lived dozens of lives at the same time, experiencing the world through countless conduits of her subtle Aspect. Those who were powerful and those who were weak; those who served her and those who did not. Men and women, mundane and Awakened, young and old...

The memories of their lives were intertwined with those of her own, inseparable. More than that, the memories of the past were intertwined with the memories of the future — one that would not come to pass, at least not anymore. There were memories that she should not have possessed at all, as well. A vast ocean of them, bearing on her with the crushing weight of eternity... memories of the worlds that had perished, of the ancient past that had been erased from the pages of history by the passage of time.

‘What has happened to me?’

She knew who she had been, but who was she now?

How did she end up in this ocean of memories?

What was her purpose here?

She lingered until a sudden realization struck her.

‘These memories... it’s me.’

They were the building blocks of what had made Cassia who she was.

She had been shattered, and now, she had to assemble herself back from these pieces. If the shape she created was true, a woman named Cassia would continue to exist.

If not... something else would take her place.

If she failed to fit the shards together entirely, her existence would be scattered by the wind.

‘How ironic...’

It seemed that she had to build the Labyrinth first in order to escape it.

That man, Asterion, had compared her to Ariadne. But he was wrong... Song of the Fallen was not only Ariadne, the traitorous princess of Crete.

She was also Minos, its king. She was also Daedalus, who built the Labyrinth at his order. She was also the Minotaur, who was imprisoned in the darkness and forced to eat human meat.

She was also Theseus, who killed both the monstrous brother and the naive sister who had given him the life-saving string.

That was why failing to kill her on that day was a fatal error that could not be undone. The Dreamspawn was a terrifying foe... so much so that there was hardly a being out there capable of overcoming his insatiable malice.

So, what would doom him in the end was his own hunger.

Tendrils of Will extended toward the sea of memories, grasping dozens of them and pulling them close.

She absorbed a tiny, insignificant shard first.

The memory might have been slight, but it was clearer and more vivid than almost any other. Its edges were vicious and sharp.

In that memory, she was a young, frightened girl laying on cold stone as the sounds of a dark sea washed over her, filling her heart with terror. The world was cruelly dark, devoid of all shapes and colors. She was blind, weak, and useless. She was only alive due to the benevolence of others, and even if she was too frightened to think it, she knew that the cup of their benevolence could run dry at any moment.

Her companions were behind her now, having a quiet conversation. The sound of their voices had awoken her, and now, she was failing to fall back asleep.

“How did you know that I’m a Legacy?” That was Neph’’s voice. Nephis was the person who had saved her, back when Cassie was lost in the darkness, shedding tears as she waited for a lone and gruesome death. Even now, hearing her speak made Cassie feel warm... Nephis was like a lone ray of sunlight in the darkness that had shrouded her world, giving her more than mere comfort.

Giving her hope.

“Simple. I heard Caster mention it. He was scolding other Sleepers to make them treat you with respect.”

That voice belonged to Sunny, their new companion.

Sunny was largely a stranger... but to Cassie, he was special.

That was because sometime during their days at the Academy, she had seen a vision of his past. In that vision, he was quietly celebrating his birthday on the day of the winter solstice, hiding from the biting wind and the toxic smog of the outskirts in a rusty shipping container.

Because of that vision, he was the only Sleeper whose face Cassie knew. She had already been blind by the time she arrived at the Academy, so everyone else — even Nephis — were like disembodied voices that called out to her from the darkness.

But Sunny had a face. Hearing him and knowing what he looked like made Cassie feel human again, and so, she cherished his voice a lot.

”Can I ask another question?”

Cassie gave up her attempts to fall back to sleep and opened her eyes in the darkness, curious to hear what he was going to ask. Sunny spoke in a blunt, indifferent tone: “Why are you burdening yourself with her?” She froze.

Nephis seemed to have smiled slightly. “Why? Wouldn’t you?”

His response came after a short pause, sounding cold and disgruntled:

”No.”

No.

‘Ah...’

It hurt.

She let go of the memory, feeling like its edges had cut her Will.

It was funny how many things could sometimes depend on a single word. That one word had colored her impression of Sunny in darker shades, and that darker hue in turn shaped much of what would happen beyond that old, lightless memory.

Would history have turned out differently if Sunny had given Neph a different answer on that cold night on the Forgotten Shore? If he had been able to lie?

Would it have changed for the better or worse?

No one knew, and no one would ever come to know.

Not even her.