Chapter Text
It was a cold winter night when everything fell to pieces. Flavus Manor, placed in the ritzy district at the feet of Garlemald’s palace, sat quiet as death. A wiser soul might have noted the sense of foreboding in the air but young Cassius knew no better. Still clad in the warm sleepwear his mother had forced upon him, he crept down the stairs step-by-step. Mr. Hopper—the white plush bunny his mother had gifted him years ago for his nameday—dragged softly against each step in almost inaudible thumps. His fingers squeezed Hopper’s stuffed hand as the voice of Lady Flavus carried out amidst an intense conversation happening in the nearby kitchen.
“And Subrius is to be at the Emperor’s side once more this eve… a duty he is bound to more often than not these days,” Hadriana bas Flavus was saying as Cassius descended the last few steps. He heard the slosh of a beverage being poured—wine, most likely at that late hour. “He assures me such a time will pass. Yet he has been saying that for moons now.”
“If Subrius says it will pass, then I see no reason to doubt,” came the gravelly, coarse voice of his uncle, a man who Cassius likened to a gargantuan bear. One might have found more warmth outside in the freezing temperatures than they would with Marcus oen Numerius. In Cassius’s young memory, he could not recall a single instance that his uncle had ever smiled at him.
“If he were a lesser man, I might fear he may have gotten himself distracted by something a bit more sightly than His Radiance,” Hadriana continued. “But Subrius… he is a good man. The finest blade the Emperor could have at his side.”
Even at his age, Cassius could hear a quiver in his mother’s voice. A subtle one. But he was too young to comprehend its meaning. He continued along in the company of trusty, silent Hopper, careful to make nary a sound. The kitchen was occupied and that was a damn shame. But that did not mean he had to simply tuck his tail between his legs and retreat back to bed. No, the night was still young and he was too stubborn to give in. His original target had been the cookie jar—not that he had not had his fill of them earlier in the day. Cassius was simply unaccustomed to being told “no” and a midnight snack sounded quite delicious.
But now, sadly, the cookies had to be abandoned but Cassius was not finished yet; there were other things he could still get into.
“And yet that is worry upon your brow, dear sister,” Marcus grunted. If young Cassius had been a pinch older, he might have paused to listen into the conversation eagerly. But he was too preoccupied with his task.
“Oh… ‘tis naught of the sort—only weariness,” Hadriana replied softly. “And, please, I would rather not spoil the night with aimless fretting. Subrius will return ere long and the bed will feel a tad warmer for it. How fares your lady?”
“Well enough,” Marcus grunted. “The doctor suspects the babe will be due in three moons’ time. My lady hopes for a girl but I suspect another son.”
Such boring talk had no use to the boy, who was only wanting to be anywhere but in his bed. His father had failed to come home in time for their ritual bedtime story and Hadriana had been too flustered and busy to read to him. So Cassius, being a bit haughty and snooty, decided that if he could not have his midnight cookies, he would damn well at least get his bedtime story. His thought was to grab a certain picture book, something his father had previously read to him. It had a hero and monster in it and Cassius thought that books with those things were quite good. He just needed to sneak his way to the family library, snatch the book off the shelf, and scurry back to his bed. His mother would be none the wiser if he was careful.
His father’s office occupied a lower portion of their manor, filled with knick-knacks that boring old adults seemed fond of. There was a globe of their star, a few magitek devices and a computer on the desk. On the shelves were a trove of books and items that Subrius had collected over time. A bust or two of Garlean generals (who he looked up to), an ornate dagger from a land far away, a preserved skull from a beast that lived far to the south, and other strange items. Cassius bypassed them all, zoning in specifically upon the book he had in mind.
It was fortunate this his parents kept the children’s books so low off the ground. Cassius found it and grabbed it by its spine, pulling it midway from the shelf.
That was when the first knock came, thunderous and loud in the quiet of the night. It startled him enough that he jolted, the book slipping off the shelf and spilling onto the floor. The young lad looked over his shoulder, at the not-so-distant hallway. The entryway was not far and suddenly, he became aware of the other noises. Footsteps could be heard outside and angry voices in the cold dark called out. He shrank behind his father’s desk, crouching low to the ground with Mr. Hopper clutched to his chest.
“Open up in there!” he heard someone yell on the other side.
Hadriana came flying down the hall in her pale blue gown with Marcus hot on her heels. Her hand was an ilm from the doorhandle when the door came open, slamming her back. As Hadriana fell, Marcus surged forward, grabbing his sister before she hit the floor. The first barrel of a Garlean-made gunblade peered into the home, at the ready to loose a round of bullets. And then more gunblades came, flanking either sides of the first.
Cassius was too scared to gasp, his breath frozen in his small lungs as the Garlean soldiers entered their home. Two legionnaires went for Hadriana and Marcus, not aiming to kill but little Cassius did not know the difference. He looked away as they struggled, crawling on his hands and knees under the desk. Heavy thuds from boots crashed into the halls of their home. Some of the guardsmen ascended the stairs, others began their search of the lower floor. His mother cried out in a mix of confusion and horror. The awful sound of her fear made Cassius curl into a ball, face pressed into Mr. Hopper’s soft fabric as if to block out what was happening.
"Leave no stone unturned,” came a demanding, sneering voice. Cassius could not see who it belonged to from his hiding place but it scared him.
“Y-Your Radiance!” Cassius heard his uncle sputter. “What… what is happening…!?”
“Silence!”
More footsteps, even closer this time. They had come into the office. Cassius covered his own mouth with a hand, watching sets of unfamiliar legs drift closer to his hiding place.
“Shackles on the two of them, Optio. I would have them both questioned thoroughly before the night is through,” that cutting, cruel voice commanded.
“As you wish, Your Radiance!” a second voice replied, its tone deep and dark. “I’ll call forth a transport to bear them to holding cells at once.”
“Your Radiance, please—” Hadriana shouted. “Please, what has happened?!”
“Such pitiable cries of ignorance,” came his reply. “They will do little to spare you if I have found even a whiff of complacency with your husband’s treasonous actions.”
“What!?”
“Clutch at your pearls all you wish—what I have said is naught but the bitter truth. Narrowly did I escape an attempt made on my life. An attempt made by the hand of your darling husband!”
“What…?”
“Do not dare make me repeat myself, my lady! I still reel at the memory of it. Tis naught but a miracle indeed that I kept my life on this most accursed night! My own damnable guard turned upon me this eve. And lead by none other than one Subrius quo Flavus, depraved to the core.”
“Subrius? A traitor!?” Marcus sputtered. “I could scarcely believe such a thing…!”
Hadriana cut him off. “You… you lie! Subrius… Subrius would never—”
“Silence! I will hear no more of this bleating! Optio!”
“Yes, Your Radiance!”
Cassius heard his mother cry out. “Please! I am sure this is but a misunderstanding! You may search this manor high and low, Your Radiance. But I ask you stay your hand! We are but loyal subjects of the Empire! House Flavus has served you since your coronation!”
There were sounds of a slight struggle, shoes scraping against the floor.
“Hadriana, please! Please, if something has occurred then we must offer our full support to the Emperor!” Marcus shouted. “Your Radiance, I beg your forgiveness for her. She is caught in her own emotions.”
Hadriana continued, undeterred, “Please, Your Radiance, I beseech you! Allow me to speak with Subrius, I am certain he would not turn his blade against the Empire. May… mayhaps he was bewitched? Or fooled!”
“Hold your tongue, woman, lest I order the Optio to pluck it from you. The traitor has been dealt with, as all traitors are dealt with,” came his snarl of a reply. “Immediate execution.”
“What? No… No!”
Heart thumping hard in his chest, Cassius pressed himself against the desk. Their words were too complex for his young mind to understand but he could hear his mother’s anguish. It made tears well up in his eyes, his tiny frame trembling. His father’s office chair moved suddenly and Cassius looked up to see a legionnaire peering down at him. The guardsman grabbed him by the wrist and the next thing he knew, he had been pulled out from under his hiding place with Mr. Hopper tumbling from his grasp.
The world was a tumbling, nonsensical mess as the legionnaire dragged him into the light and hoisted him up. He reached outward for freedom, grasping only empty air in his tiny fingers as he cried. The legionnaire stopped in the entryway and Cassius looked up to see his mother’s teary face. Her eyes widened in horror. Another set of hands grabbed him. Cassius flailed, too young and ignorant to understand what was happening.
“Cassius!” his mother screamed.
“Perhaps this will loosen your tongue,” that deep voice growled.
Suddenly the young boy was face down on the floor with his arms pinned behind him. Something cold pressed against the back of his head, digging hard into his blond hair.
“There is no repentance for attempts of regicide,” that sneering voice declared from the man they called “Your Radiance”. “And there will be no quarter for any who contributed to this plan of murder.”
“H-hold your fire!” Marcus yelled. “We yield, we yield! Please, can you not see we want the truth as much as you do?”
“Stop… stop!” Hadriana yelled. “We know nothing, I swear, Your Radiance! Please, have mercy!”
With tears splashing the ground, Cassius watched “Your Radiance” pace two steps before where his mother had been made to kneel. The man held his hand up suddenly and that cold, hard thing pressing into Cassius’s head seemed to back off. But “Your Radiance” soon leaned in near Hadriana’s face, voice dripping with venom.
“For the betrayal this dark night, not an ash will be left of House Flavus by sunrise. Of that, I can assure you. Cooperate and mayhaps there need not be further bloodshed. But the moment I sense a sliver of rebellion… My bountiful wellspring of mercy will run quite dry.”
“Your Radiance” turned and the first thing Cassius saw were the yellows of his irises, aglow in the dim lighting of their manor. In the dark, he looked like a monster. Hate brimmed in his expression, contorted with a disgust that could not be defined in words alone. His beady pupils caught sight of Cassius and even in his ignorant youth, the child could sense a hesitation in him. But his malice only seemed to swell, upper lip curling as if he had stepped in something unpleasant. The man with the evil eyes turned away but that look on his face was imprinted upon Cassius’s memory, branded so deep that years later that it would be what he knew the infamous Solus zos Galvus by. The eyes of a monster, not unlike the ones from the books his father had read to him before bed.
“For every penny that tonight has costed the Empire, it will come from your coffers,” Solus declared. “For the transgressions of House Flavus, their treasury shall be stripped as I see fit as recompense for their patriarch’s treachery.”
“This cannot… this cannot be happening…” Hadriana whispered, sniffling and trying to gather her composure. Yet it seemed the moment she did so, the reality of it all set in. She dissolved into sobs, tears splashing the cold ground.
The Emperor grimaced.
“Take them away, Optio. I care not to listen to this blubbering any longer,” Solus commanded and Cassius found himself being whisked out the door into the frigid cold of the Ilsabardian night.
The sounds of the legionnaires beating his mother as they dragged her filled the young boy’s ears, piercing his heart deeper than the whipping winds did his flesh. His teeth chattered, tears streaking either sides of his face. His mother never let him out without a jacket and his frail skin soon knew why. The winter at night was lethal and through some miracle, Cassius did not freeze in the minute it took for the soldier to drag him out to where a transport vehicle had promptly arrived to their address. He stared at Flavus Manor as it was ransacked by the guardsmen. The sound of glass breaking rang out into the dead of night, his mother’s wails carrying on as they begrudgingly pulled her down the steps of their porch. Marcus was towed along after her, despairing with his head lowered. He offered no struggle for there was naught to do but accept the grim hand fate had dealt them all.
The shouts of the guardsmen and his mother’s cries would play over and over in Cassius’s mind for years to come as he reflected upon that night.
The night that House Flavus fell from grace, left to rot in the Garlean slums for the following decades.
They had not bothered to cuff him when they had brought him to the medical facility. A man shot and recovering from a nasty wound infection was not prone to escape—or so the Terncliff guards thought. Cassius was honestly inclined to agree; most would have accepted their fate by now. And even he admitted it was tempting to roll over and wait for the inevitable end. But Cassius tol Flavus had lived his entire life clawing his way out of messes. He had spent every second fighting to survive and as filled with despair as he was, he was not about to lay down and die just yet.
The guards they had posted in the room were two Raen, locals of Terncliff. Each had a blade and a stoic expression, eyes shifting occasionally about the room in not-so-subtle boredom. Did they suspect Cassius would try to escape? Not likely. Even with the painkillers as potent as they were, there was not a chance he could outmuscle two grown, healthy men. Not with his injuries at the very least.
He nestled in the bed as best as he could, mind racing as it had since the day Valens had gone and gotten himself killed. The Werlytians were making sure he was cared for and Cassius sincerely did appreciate their efforts. But he was not blind to their ire. Even if none of Valens’ tyranny had been his idea, the mantle of a tribunus damned him to the pyre regardless. He imagined they were likely healing him enough to stand trial, which he supposed was nice of them but that did little to comfort his concerns about an imminent execution. From how it seemed, Gaius had disposed of Valens and that meant that the people had no one to take their anger out on. And Cassius knew who was next up on the list to blame. Somehow, he doubted his would-be judges would listen to his woeful tale about being a hostage under the legatus.
It did not matter that Valens had left scars aplenty across his body. It did not matter that the bulk of Cassius’s duties had been paperwork, logistics, and castrum management. If they wanted someone to bleed, they already had their man in custody.
And he could not entirely blame them for it.
But as remiss as he was to deny them their justice, he had never quite known how to surrender. As he played the role of a wounded patient, he schemed. The guards were swapped out every three hours. One of those Terncliff healers came in every few hours as well – sometimes it would be four hours, sometimes it would be longer. There seemed to be quite a few patients at the facility and not many staff on-hand to care for them. Every time the healers came in, they dismissed the guards. Not a smart move, Cassius thought, but there was hardly enough space in the room for the healer to work while both bulky guardsmen were present.
He thought about that gap of time when he would be alone with the next healer. Two guardsmen were more than he could handle at the moment. But a single healer? That was more likely to go in his favor but Cassius was still left with the grand question that came next.
Where was he going to go?
Garlemald was in shambles, they said, the entire capital overrun by the possessed. When the news had reached him that the majority of the populace had been bewitched, he had tried to contact Valentina or Marilla to ascertain the truth. No reply had come. And Cassius had been left to wonder what had become of them both.
But that was not the only person he was concerned about. His mother was still back there as well and all attempts to contact her had been similarly futile. No reply from the capital, just a bitter, fearful silence. A better son would have run back to her side, but Valens had forbidden anyone from returning. Cassius had feared the consequences of disobeying so he had opted to keep his head down.
But Valens was dead now. The remnants of the VIIth had scattered to the winds. There was no one under his supervision now, no reason to stay in this foreign land. He had tried to save who he could. His reward had been a mutiny from his own men, nearly costing him his own life. He thought to seek out another legion, perhaps find safety with his countrymen while he tried to get a response from the capital. But even Cassius knew when it was time to stop hoping and start acting. The war Garlemald had raged made oceans of blood and Cassius refused to drown in it any longer.
He was done with the legions. Done with this fight. It was time to go home. Even if home was nothing as it had been before. Even if returning was a death sentence.
Marilla, Valentina, his mother. He had to make sure they were safe. And if they were, he would find them all a way out.
But first, he needed to shed his current babysitters and that was a task far easier said than done.
A knock on the door broke him from his thoughts. One of the guards went to answer it, the ex-tribunus’s eyes following him over. When he opened it, a petite Raen woman came into view. Silver hair, a set of soft lavender eyes, a sunflower-shaded blouse. She had a parcel over her shoulder, hands clasped at a small locket at her breast.
Allie.
“Could you leave us alone for a minute?” she asked the guards in that honeysuckle voice of hers, so sweet and innocent.
The guards exchanged wary looks and she flashed them a small smile. Cassius marveled as they obliged, slipping from the room with nary a complaint. Idiots, he mused to himself, but he did not dare voice that.
Allie’s gaze fell on him. Her fingers clasped that tiny locket tighter, eyes brimming with emotion. Cassius hoped she did not cry; he was not sure he was emotionally ready to deal with that and there were no tissues nearby.
“Uncle Cass.”
Uncle. He remembered when he had told all five of them that they could call him that if they wished. Anything that sounded like “Father” or “Dad” had been forbidden; that had been Gaius’s job, not his. Every time Gaius took in a new stray, Cassius had reminded the old Wolf that they were his children; Cassius feared parenthood as much as he feared the chilled embrace of death. But he had, in a way, still helped raise them. Even if he thought he was positively dreadful at it.
Ordinarily, he would have flashed her one of his standard grins and invited her to have some tea. But he had precious little to smile about and so he merely looked at her, forcing a half-smirk that felt as sour and wry as he did inside. “Uncle Cass” felt so wrong when he had been powerless to help her or her siblings.
“Little Allie,” Cassius managed out despite his throat feeling so dry. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I heard what happened, I… spoke with Father…” Allie began, shifting a few steps towards him. Still clutching that locket, still a tad apprehensive. But her eyes were filled with warmth, even if they were so sad. “How are you feeling?”
“Horrid,” Cassius said candidly but something about that made him burst into an earnest, tired grin. “But I suppose I’ve been in worse spots. And you?”
“Better,” Allie replied quietly.
He supposed that was true. Anyone who had been held at gunpoint by Valens for so long would be hard-pressed to forget the last few moons. But at least it was over now.
“Good,” he gave a small nod of approval.
“I’ve enlisted in the Werlytian guard. I’ll be piloting one of the G-Saviors and helping defend the area,” Allie continued.
Cassius immediately wanted to voice that he did not think she should have done that but he held his tongue; she knew better for herself than anyone else. But she deserved peace, he thought, and he feared there could be no peace in such close proximity to anything related to the Weapons. Even if this one was constructed by Cid, it still felt too similar to Valens’ projects.
“Putting your skills to use. The Werlytians shall be in good hands,” Cassius said, adjusting the way he was laying out on the bed and fluffing his pillow up slightly to better support his back.
Her gaze fell slightly but she nodded. He could tell a thought had crossed her mind, wiping the soft smile about her lips.
“I will be fine,” Cassius said before he could stop himself. There was a damn matanga in the room if he had ever seen one and he had never been great about dealing with those. Truthfully, he was not sure he would be fine. But he was going to try his best to be fine. That was all one could do sometimes.
Allie knew that he was lying; he could see it in her face. She had seen too many bad things in her short life to be deceived so easily. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, “They could kill you.”
“They could but why go through the trouble of saving me?” Cassius asked.
“They hold you just as accountable as Valens.”
“And maybe I am.”
Her brow creased. “Don’t you dare say that.”
“I could have killed him. I had chances to,” Cassius replied casually, numbly.
Why didn’t I? I wonder that to myself every fucking day. But I suppose some chains are invisible. He had a tight grip on us all…
“You did not,” Allie said flatly. “And I… know that. That’s why I’m here… I’m here to…” Her voice trailed slightly and she glanced at the satchel she carried. “I’ve an idea, all right? It’s a horrible one but it’s an idea all the same…”
Cassius squinted ever so slightly, watching as she undid the clasp to open up her bag. All the while, she continued, “Werlyt’s forgiven Father but the crimes of the VIIth are too fresh to ignore. They’ve pardoned us conscripts for our roles in the occupation but…”
There was a gun in her small hand. A pistol. Cassius recognized it instantly as one of Gaius’s firearms. It had been given to him as a gift by Emperor Solus for his nameday years ago. The manufacturers did not even make that model anymore, and the Emperor had specifically instructed that they etch in the face of a wolf near the handle. Despite its small structure, it looked so heavy in Allie’s hands.
“Allie…” Cassius began uncertainly.
“If you stay here… I don’t know what will happen,” Allie said to him quietly, looking up with the start of tears in her eyes. “I don’t know, Uncle Cass, I don’t…”
“You don’t mean to give me your father’s gun, do you?” Cassius’s right brow raised. He already knew the answer. But perhaps asking her would make her reconsider her actions. Gaius was not like to miss that gun for very long.
“I… I do,” Allie said. “With it, you can find your way out of here. I know you can. The wilderness beyond Terncliff is far from hospitable yet I know there must be a place you could go. Somewhere… somewhere safe…”
Well I cannot say the destination in mind is particularly safe but a gun is a most welcome addition to my otherwise lackluster set of equipment…
She approached him with the gun extended out in offering. A part of him wanted to snatch it from her as to claim it before she thought better of her decision. Another part of him hesitated—taking from Gaius still felt wrong, even all these years later. Yet still Cassius tried to imagine himself hoofing it to Garlemald without a weapon. There was no way he would make it home like that. Not a damn chance.
“I don’t know what will happen to you if you stay here,” Allie reiterated softly. Even if they did not send him to the chopping block, they would surely imprison him and Cassius found most jail cells to be quite boring.
He seized the pistol’s handle, tossing aside his guilt in the name of survival. It disgusted him slightly that Solus had likely once held the gun but Cassius soon discarded those feelings as well. The former emperor had permeated nearly every aspect of his existence for so long that a part of him was numb to it. The old fucker was dead and cold in his grave now. Good riddance, Cassius thought, to that man with evil eyes and an eviler heart.
“You will tell your father I put you up to this, am I clear?” Cassius said to Allie, meeting her gaze with a pitying smile. “I would be remiss to let you take the fall.”
“Father will be upset but only momentarily,” Allie shook her head. “He’s always held a fondness for you.”
That stung far more than it comforted. All of those nights together under the sheets, in each other’s arms… it felt it had all been for naught. When Gaius had left the Empire, he had never once looked back at the people he had left behind. Cassius told himself not to take it personally. Lovers broke up all the time. Fate was a cruel mistress. It had been a miracle he had kept Gaius on his arm for as long as he had.
… But it still hurt.
“Keep an eye on him,” Cassius replied. “He will need you around. If anything, to keep himself sane.”
“I know that.”
“And no matter what they put you up to, remember that you can always walk away.”
They were afforded that leisure now, the ability to choose. He hoped she would not spend the rest of her days in that miserable pilot’s seat. Not in the name of the dead. They were gone and she was still here. She still had a life to live.
She nodded and Cassius offered her yet another weak smile, tucking the pistol under the bedsheet next to his thigh. Allie handed over two more things—twin boxes that Cassius knew to hold several rounds of basic, small bullets. He put them both under the bed, still stiff from the pain in his shoulder.
Cassius briefly thought back to how he had begged Gaius to stay with him out there in the wilds if he were to succumb to the infection. In hindsight, he was embarrassed to have said those things. It made him feel better to blame his hunger and exhaustion for his words so he did that. Anything to feel an onze less shitty.
He met Allie’s gaze, taking note of the glistening tears in her eyes. She was fighting hard to hold them back and Cassius appreciated that. He quietly hoped that she did not cry; he did not think he could take it and the last thing he needed was to dissolve into a fit of tears. That was not entirely conducive to escaping a hospital after all.
“I… I don’t know if we’ll ever…” Allie began but she could not get all of the words out.
See each other again…
He knew what she meant.
“Oh, come now,” Cassius said levelly. “You never know.”
“Please take care. Maybe… maybe when this is all over—”
A knock at the door interrupted their talk. On the other side, he heard the voice of one of the guards.
“Not to intrude but the prisoner needs watching. Wrap up your business in there.”
‘Prisoner’, is it? I very well suppose I could slip through the window now. Allie’s not likely to rat me out but I’d rather she get far enough away from here to avoid any fallout. Would be ill-mannered of me to involve her any further.
“A-alright,” Allie said then looked back at Cassius. “Be safe.”
“I always play it safe, dear,” Cassius flashed her a grin. “Well. Any time that I can play it safe.”
“I mean it.”
“Go on. I’m sure your father will be looking for you.”
“I’ll be back in a few days.”
“Bring chess and a snack and we can make the next meeting a bit less teary, hmm?”
She smiled at him one last time.
“You’ve got a deal, Uncle Cass.”
Allie Baelsar departed and the two guards from earlier returned. Cassius still thought it was a mistake to try taking them both on but he also knew time was running out. Who knew when the next healer would come check on him and he did not want to risk his new toy being discovered under the bedsheet. It occurred to him to perhaps wait until after they gave him his next meal. Bad manners to dine then dash, he knew, but some things just could not be helped.
And when the appointed hour of his escape came, neither of the guards saw it coming.