Cas' Memories

His words run circles through her head until she can’t think of anything else.

If you keep going like this… You might not survive what’s coming.

He’s been gone for so long… Don’t you think that doesn’t matter anymore?

Come back soon, Cas...

The nightmares always loom in her head, waiting for her to slip, for her thoughts to stray too far. To sink their claws in and never let go. She couldn’t face them again, not after what happened today. So she came here, though the pretty waterfall scenery does nothing for her now.

After what happened, there was little chance she’d ever be able to sleep peacefully again. But she was just trying to do what she always did. Put it away. Try to forget. Fight it. Because if she lost her front, if she let her cracking walls break, then…

Who would she even be anymore?

It felt hopeless. She hadn’t been sure she could make it through tomorrow. But she would have pulled herself together as she always did.

Now she knows that she’ll never see the dawn again.

Why does she fight? She’d never been able to figure that out. Why not just let herself be turned to ash when every day she wishes for an easy way out? Why does she stay with people she can never let herself care for? She knows she’ll never be strong enough to find out what’s behind the Grey, to find the one who took her brother. So why bother?

Why bother.

Slate was supposed to understand her. The only one who could, if only because of their forced connection. There were so many things she never would have told anyone in this world, never could have known how to.

But he knew. He knew what she’d been through, every tortured day spent watching Cephi decay, every dismissive word from her parents and peers, how close she’d come to the edge and how many times she’d torn herself away.

But even he wasn’t on her side anymore…

It doesn’t matter. She’s been slipping for a long time; she wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway.

She just didn’t think it would hurt this much when it inevitably happened. As she fishes around in her bag for the prism, she reflects on what she’s leaving behind.

Slate, Kadoren, Vela. She couldn’t bear to call them friends, but it’d been almost nice having them around.

A way to avenge her brother. But Slate’s right. He’s dead, and it doesn’t matter anymore.

And her life, her second chance cut short, her ever-unattainable after. Her patron would come to make good on his promise, and she wasn’t going back. He wouldn’t have a choice but to kill her.

None of it matters. Running away is all she’s good for anyway.

For a long moment she regards the prism, the black cube shining in the eerie mushroom lights, and she almost hesitates. But she made her choice long ago. All of these silly adventures were just stalling.

At least she’ll prove him wrong in the end. She was never meant for this quest. She always knew she’d never see the end of it.

As she closes her eyes, the scroll disintegrates in her paws. When the magic clears, the artifact sits alone on the mossy bench. They’ll have no reason to come after her now.

It’s better this way.