It was a dream.
No—not a dream. What was happening?
Memories that didn't belong to him churned through his mind, someone else's thoughts, their emotions, their fear so sharp and clear it cut into him.
Fear?
He didn't feel fear. That wasn't his emotion. It was his—the other one, the one these memories belonged to. But they were so vivid it was as if he had lived them: the smells, the textures, the sensations. The feelings.
They were real. Crashing into him with such intensity he could barely think. He tried to push them away, bury them like he always had. They weren't his. Why should they matter?
But one refused to go—confusion—and that one was his. Not just from the foreign memories, but from within himself. Twisting, merging, multiplying. A haze that dulled his sense of reality.
Cassian sat hunched on the edge of his narrow bed, staring at the floor, sweat trailing down his face. His chest rose and fell with effort. Controlling himself was harder than it should've been.
The door creaked open, and he turned his head slowly.
"Cassian, you're still not ready?" Ailyn's voice pierced through the fog. "Hurry, or you'll be late."
"Yes... don't worry. I'll be ready soon. You can leave."
"See you at midday, then," she replied, her tone soft but hurried.
When the door closed, he exhaled. He had to move. Had to focus. Thinking about other people wouldn't help right now. But the feelings—those feelings—they were strong. Stronger than before.
---
At the barracks, Cele noticed him right away.
Cassian or "Sian," as she often called him was late. That was rare. He was usually the first one here. His clothes, always a little too big for him, looked even more unkempt today, hanging off his frame in a way that made him look almost comical—if not for the state he was in.
He looked tired. More than tired. He was sweating, breathing heavily, and his usual alertness was nowhere to be found.
Weird.
"Hey, Sian, are you okay? You look sick."
She expected a smile, maybe a sarcastic comment. But he just stared at her. No recognition, no warmth—just an empty, distant look that unsettled her. It was like he didn't know her at all.
"What's wrong with you? Are you mad at me?"
Her stomach twisted. Had she done something wrong? She hoped not. He was one of the only friends she had.
"I'm not mad," he said eventually. "It's just... yeah. I feel sick."
Cele didn't press. Something about him felt fragile, like a porcelain mask ready to crack. So she stood quietly beside him, waiting for the instructor. Daniel wasn't coming today anyway.
Time passed. The flames of the torch went from piercing red to a more calming orange. The other students ran drills, sparred, sweated.
And yet Cassian never moved.
He stood exactly where he had when he arrived, eyes unfocused. The instructor had told them to leave him be.
"He's probably having an episode," she'd said casually.
Cele didn't know what that meant, but it sounded frightening. To just stand there, unmoving, unaware of anything—that was terrifying.
When training ended, the others began leaving in groups, their laughter echoing down the path. Cassian remained.
Cele approached him and gently took his hand. It was cold.
"Sian, it's time to go. You're gonna be left here. Come on, start moving."
He didn't even blink.
Before she could try again, a soft voice came from behind her.
"Don't worry. I'll take him home."
Cele turned to see a beautiful young woman walking toward them. She wore the formal black maid uniform of Lord Roberto's estate. Cele knew who she was immediately—Ailyn. Cassian talked about her often, and lately, people in the village had been whispering about her. Being entrusted with the care of one of Lord Roberto's squires was a big deal.
"Oh. Yes. Then… I'll see him tomorrow."
Cele stepped back awkwardly, unsure why her cheeks felt warm. Maybe it was Ailyn's presence—something about her felt… familiar, and yet far away.
As she walked away, Cele couldn't help glancing back.
Ailyn had gently wrapped her arms around Cassian, lifting him as though he weighed nothing. She kissed his forehead, smiling with such radiant tenderness it made Cele stop in her tracks.
There was love in that expression. Pure, protective love. It stirred something inside Cele—a warmth that left her chest aching.
When was the last time? She couldn't remember.
- - -
Ailyn's arms were beginning to tremble.
Cassian was heavier than he looked—almost eight now, and tall for his age. At first, carrying him had seemed manageable. But now, with each step down the dusty road from the barracks, her muscles ached and her shoulders screamed for relief. Sweat clung to her temples, and she had to adjust her grip every few strides just to keep going.
She looked down at his sleeping face, pale and too still.
"I'm sorry, Cassian," she whispered softly, her voice shaking more from guilt than exertion. "I should've noticed something was wrong. You looked so tired this morning... but I didn't ask. If your instructor hadn't sent someone…" Her voice caught. "Maybe I'm not meant for this. Maybe I'm not strong enough."
Ailyn didn't notice the sound of boots approaching until the voice cut through the quiet:
"Need help?"
She startled and turned around, nearly losing her balance. A young man in a light set of armor jogged up the path, sword bouncing at his side. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and his familiar grin made her heart lurch with both relief and sudden self-consciousness.
"Lord Eduardo," she said, surprised. "I—I couldn't possibly trouble you with this."
He stopped beside her, already reaching out. "It's no trouble. I know this rascal well. He's one of mine, after all. I've taught him how to swing a sword."
Eduardo gently lifted Cassian from her arms without waiting for permission.
The sudden loss of weight made her gasp, a soft and ungraceful sound that slipped out before she could catch it. Her hands flew to her mouth in embarrassment.
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "That was—I didn't mean to—"
Eduardo chuckled, shifting Cassian against his shoulder with practiced ease. "Don't apologize. You've carried him this far. I'm impressed. Most squires wouldn't make it past the manor gates."
Ailyn looked away quickly, but not before she saw the faint flush creeping up Eduardo's neck. She felt her own cheeks burn and quickened her pace to hide her face.
He followed beside her, Cassian now resting peacefully in his arms.
"I didn't expect to see you today," Ailyn said, trying to steady her voice.
"Finished drills early," he replied. "I heard Cassian wasn't himself today. Thought I'd check in. Seems I came at the right time."
She nodded, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "Thank you… really. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't shown up."
"You'd have made it," he said with quiet certainty.
Ailyn let herself smile. His words made her happy.