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After months of wearing nothing but her armor or the comparatively heavy clothing of Fandom, the loose garments Cassandra had been given felt strange on her shoulders. Almost as if they were non-existent; implying an ease of life and movement she was not entirely sure was ever hers to have. In fact, she was rather sure she preferred otherwise. In this upcoming trial, she may yet need the sense of strength the weight imparted on her.
"Please, Byron. Tell me you will look for this island realm."
It was only the two of them now: she had already gone through the ceremony with the Lord Seeker. There was nothing left but to be taken to the quiet confines where she would hold her Vigil; a duty bestowed on the man she saw most closely as family.
Seeker Byron sighed. "We are still considering it, Cassandra," he said. "But you must know it is unlikely. An island where the Veil is so thin, magic regularly twists the bodies of those who inhabit it? It sounds like a feverish nightmare."
"But it is true," Cassandra said. "I saw it."
"I believe you did," Byron said. His hand came to rest very gently on her shoulder. She wished the grip was firmer. "But I also can't dismiss that it sounds very strange. It is much more likely that mage tried to twist your mind."
"Byron," she snapped. "Do I seem as if I would fall for such tricks--?"
"It is not a thing you would or would not do," Byron said, "It's just possible. But that is one of the reasons you must take this Vigil now, to prevent future twisting."
He put his other hand on her other shoulder. This was rougher, thankfully. "Have you sent your last messages?"
"For as much as I have anyone to send them to," Cassandra said dryly. "So yes."
She had sent her uncle a dispassionate note, explaining the situation, in case he sent one of his very infrequent ravens while she was locked in prayer and the purging of her emotions. And in a fit of... whimsy... she had sent a raven for Garik, though she doubted the birds could ever even find the way. That would have to be it; she could no longer linger on brief dalliances in strange places. And if she were to go looking for Fandom again, if simply to extract Anders... being strengthened, a full Seeker, it would help.
"Then there is nothing left for me to do but wish you strength," Byron said.
Her mouth quirked. "Not luck?" she said.
"We've met," Byron said. He touched her cheek briefly, then stepped back. "You don't need luck, Cassandra. You have always made your own."
Cassandra had to smile in full, then. Soft, for her standards. "Thank you," she said. "I will make you proud."
The elder Seeker did not answer; he just nodded, and then he turned, heading back down into the hallway.
Cassandra opened the door before her, and strode inside. She let all thoughts go, as well as she could. There would be time to purge what remnants stayed behind, but she was confident she would see it through.
"And there I saw the Black City," she murmured, "its towers forever stain'd, its gates forever shut..."
[[ establishy. ]]
"Please, Byron. Tell me you will look for this island realm."
It was only the two of them now: she had already gone through the ceremony with the Lord Seeker. There was nothing left but to be taken to the quiet confines where she would hold her Vigil; a duty bestowed on the man she saw most closely as family.
Seeker Byron sighed. "We are still considering it, Cassandra," he said. "But you must know it is unlikely. An island where the Veil is so thin, magic regularly twists the bodies of those who inhabit it? It sounds like a feverish nightmare."
"But it is true," Cassandra said. "I saw it."
"I believe you did," Byron said. His hand came to rest very gently on her shoulder. She wished the grip was firmer. "But I also can't dismiss that it sounds very strange. It is much more likely that mage tried to twist your mind."
"Byron," she snapped. "Do I seem as if I would fall for such tricks--?"
"It is not a thing you would or would not do," Byron said, "It's just possible. But that is one of the reasons you must take this Vigil now, to prevent future twisting."
He put his other hand on her other shoulder. This was rougher, thankfully. "Have you sent your last messages?"
"For as much as I have anyone to send them to," Cassandra said dryly. "So yes."
She had sent her uncle a dispassionate note, explaining the situation, in case he sent one of his very infrequent ravens while she was locked in prayer and the purging of her emotions. And in a fit of... whimsy... she had sent a raven for Garik, though she doubted the birds could ever even find the way. That would have to be it; she could no longer linger on brief dalliances in strange places. And if she were to go looking for Fandom again, if simply to extract Anders... being strengthened, a full Seeker, it would help.
"Then there is nothing left for me to do but wish you strength," Byron said.
Her mouth quirked. "Not luck?" she said.
"We've met," Byron said. He touched her cheek briefly, then stepped back. "You don't need luck, Cassandra. You have always made your own."
Cassandra had to smile in full, then. Soft, for her standards. "Thank you," she said. "I will make you proud."
The elder Seeker did not answer; he just nodded, and then he turned, heading back down into the hallway.
Cassandra opened the door before her, and strode inside. She let all thoughts go, as well as she could. There would be time to purge what remnants stayed behind, but she was confident she would see it through.
"And there I saw the Black City," she murmured, "its towers forever stain'd, its gates forever shut..."
[[ establishy. ]]