After the lecture, Kael wandered aimlessly through the academy grounds. The narrow halls and the loud murmurs of students were too much for his tangled thoughts. The knowledge he had gained that day lingered within him as a mixture of fascination and unease that refused to settle.
He let his feet guide him, still caught between wonder and dread, until he realized where he had ended up: the practice grounds.
The practice grounds. That's where I trained with Cassandra this morning, he thought, looking around. The late afternoon sun hung low, painting the pond beside the stone courtyard in soft gold. Its surface shimmered, rippling gently in the breeze. Trees framed the place like a half-moon of green and light.
Kael sighed. He was early. Cassandra wouldn’t arrive for a while.
He sat down on the grass beside the training field and reached into his bag. The cool blades of grass bent beneath his weight. He pulled out his worn notebook and a set of pens. He flipped through the pages until he found a blank one.
He began to sketch. First, he sketched the curve of the pond, then the arch of the trees. His movements grew slower and more deliberate as the noise in his mind faded. The gentle scratching of the pen against paper blended with the hum of cicadas and the soft rustle of leaves.
He was so lost in the moment that he didn’t notice Cassandra's quiet footsteps approaching behind him. She smiled at the view, sat beside him, and watched as he continued his work.
Kael looked up when he noticed the light around him fading. The golden hue of the afternoon had deepened into a soft red, and the reflections on the pond shimmered like molten glass.
He nearly jumped when he realized that Cassandra was sitting beside him with a faintly amused expression.
"Since when have you been here?" he asked, startled.
"I arrived when you started painting the pond," she replied gently. Her voice carried a warmth that matched the evening light. Her eyes wandered over the drawing, and she traced the sketched outline of the pond with delicate fingers. "You really do see the best in things," she murmured, almost to herself.
Kael gave a small, embarrassed smile. "You could've said something, you know?"
Cassandra laughed softly. "Why? Does it embarrass you when someone watches you draw?"
He looked away, his gaze lifting to the sky, where the first faint, trembling stars were emerging. "It's not that," he said quietly. "It's just...no one really knows I do this. I only draw when my thoughts get too tangled up. It helps me make sense of them or forget them for a while.”
Cassandra’s smile faded into something softer and more thoughtful. She followed his gaze upward and watched the deepening sky beside him. "I suppose the last lecture took its toll on you," she said after a moment, her tone gentle.
Kael nodded, his eyes still on the horizon. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice low and distant. "The things I learned today...they changed how I see the world. How I see everything, really.”
He exhaled slowly. "I never imagined the power of words could create something so beautifully heartbreaking."
His words trailed off, and for a moment, only the quiet whisper of the wind could be heard. Kael’s thoughts drifted back to the image of the old woman: He remembered the way her voice had trembled, the warmth in her fading smile, and the weight of her final promise.
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The memory lingered, luminous and fragile like the last light of day dissolving into night.
"I know," Cassandra said softly. Her voice was calm, but there was a tremor beneath it. "I already knew what the Word of Memories could do. I knew about its effects on the mind and body, but this was the first time I actually saw it.”
She drew a slow breath, her gaze fixed on the pond where the fading sunlight still shimmered faintly. "The love that woman felt, even moments before her death, was overwhelming." Her voice wavered. "It made me realize how lonely I’ve become."
Those last words escaped her like a confession: quiet and raw.
Kael’s chest tightened. He remembered her composed expression in the lecture hall, how she remained unshaken while others wept. But now, under the soft red of dusk, he saw a single tear trace down her cheek, glinting in the fading light before falling.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved closer and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Cassandra flinched at first, startled by the sudden warmth. Then she relaxed, understanding without words. She leaned into him, resting her head lightly against his shoulder.
Neither spoke. The silence between them felt sacred, filled only by the soft rustling of leaves and the distant calls of birds returning home.
In that moment, there were no masks, no duties, and no origins dividing them. Just two souls sharing the quiet ache of memory beneath a darkening sky.
After a while, Cassandra rose slowly from the grass, brushing the dust from her clothes, as the sky dimmed to red.
"It'll be dark soon," she said softly. "If we wait any longer, we won't be able to train. Do you still want to?"
She sounded gentle, almost hopeful. And that hope stung.
Kael met her gaze, then sighed and shook his head with a tired smile. "No, not today. Training now would only ruin the mood."
Cassandra let out a small, relieved laugh, but the warmth faded as quickly as it came.
"But you still plan to train for tomorrow's evaluation," she murmured. It was not a question, but a quiet conclusion.
Kael stiffened. "So you knew."
"Of course." Her tone was light, but the tremor underneath it betrayed her. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice? You asked me to meet you out of the blue, and now you’re suddenly determined to surpass everyone else. The connection wasn’t hard to make.”
She looked down at her hands and flexed her fingers as if steadying herself.
"For someone who has spent her entire life being used," she whispered, "I recognize the signs quickly."
Kael felt every word land like a stone in his chest.
Cassandra lifted her head again, her expression a fragile mix of composure and hurt. "I hoped," she continued quietly, "that maybe, just maybe, your reason was different this time."
A heavy silence settled in.
Then she stepped closer, reached out, and gently touched his cheek. She guided his face toward hers so he couldn’t look away.
"I wanted to believe you meant what you said this morning," she said. "That you trusted me. That you saw me.”
Her fingers trembled as they left his skin; the warmth vanished instantly.
"But you didn't." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she bit her lip, forcing the mask back into place.
Kael’s throat tightened. He hated himself in that moment. More than she ever could.
"I wasn't lying when I said I enjoyed spending time with you," he said, his voice low and shaking. "But yes, part of the reason I came to you was for the evaluation. I—”
Cassandra cut him off with a husky, brittle laugh. "There it is," she murmured. “The truth. Late, but predictable.”
She turned away, her shoulders rigid.
"You're like the rest of them," she said softly. "You see my skills, my name, my value. But not me.” She paused. "I thought you would."
“Cassandra, wait—” He darted forward and stepped in front of her, looking desperate.
"I did feel something today," he insisted. "I felt like something connects us. Like I could trust you. Like maybe I was wrong about you, about nobles, and—”
Her face was expressionless now. Perfectly composed. The real Cassandra was gone, replaced by who the world forced her to be.
When she spoke, her voice was soft yet lethal. "The flower you were looking for," she said. "It’s called the Mourning Bloom. Its scent is bittersweet. Longing. Fading.”
She stepped past him, her cloak brushing his arm as if to say goodbye.
"That was the last thing tying us together."
She paused only once, without looking back.
"Farewell, Kael."
Then she vanished into the quiet, darkening night. He was left standing alone on the training ground, the warmth of their shared moment collapsing into a cold, aching void.
