Page 45 of Obsidian and Frost

~Cassius~

She was flailing.

Hurting.

My fists clenched around the branch of the tree either side of where I sat perched watching her, as she cried while curled up on her bed in her dormitory.

I was almost positive that she wasn’t aware, but I could feel more than just extreme distress through our Soul Brand.

She wouldn’t know because I didn’t engage in much of anything on my end, so she wouldn’t have experienced it from me.

But inhercase, I’d felt a great deal tonight.

Unfortunately.

Uncertainty. Anxiety. Excitement. Happiness.

Then… waves of desire and sexual pleasure.

And then… a crash.

A severe one.

Panic and distress had flooded her.

Hopelessness and fear.

And now… resignation and utter desolation.

I’d learned quickly how to stop her from feeling my emotions, but I was already equipped from years as a True Celestial to operating that way—I muted everything.

For a being of this plane, though, that was not possible.

But thankfully, I could at least spare her my burdens—the guilt and ruin, the pain of my fall.

She had enough to deal with without taking on my issues.

And I’d thought she’d been dealing well, doing much better since that awful night when she’d let go of hope—and life—entirely.

Alas, tonight had triggered her and it had caused a regression.

I squeezed my eyes shut.No.

She’d come so far.

Yet, now there wasthis.

It pained me so deeply as it felt like such a callback to that night many months ago:

A scream caughtmy attention and I turned to see the glint of a jeweled dagger being plunged into the abdomen of a young woman, her ombre hair plastered to her face, as blood and sweat slicked her skin.

As she fell to her knees, the being who had their back to me grasped her throat viciously. “Sorin sends his regards, tainted one. He wanted you to suffer as you perish.”

He twisted the blade, and she shrieked, collapsing onto her back.

“Long live Puritas.”

I found myself experiencing the urge to intervene, even though it was written that I should not, that it wasn’t my place.