24. Unravel
24
UNRAVEL
Cassian
The Past
As the ruler of death, it was a peculiar thing to celebrate the life of another. A refreshing change of color in the monotonous landscape of his days.
He’d spent hours in a crowded waiting room with Finnian, pacing the lengths of its walls. Members of Finnian’s organizations filled the space.
Eleanor, for once in her life, sat next to Cassian, quietly biting on her nails. It made him rather anxious and drove him to attempt conversation with her about the new cat she’d recently adopted or the foiled stitching along her trousers that she’d done herself. By hand, not with a spell—a fact that had caught Cassian by surprise. After five years in a city full of mages, he’d learned to assume they did everything with magic.
The wails of a newborn child reached past the door that everyone circled and paced around, freezing them in their tracks.
Cassian had never witnessed such a bewildered look on Finnian’s face as when he held Isla’s child for the first time. Breaking from his indifferent character, tears glistened in his eyes as he cradled the tiny mortal bundled in blankets.
It brought a smile to Cassian, seeing Finnian experience something new that evoked such emotion.
The smile lasted only a few seconds before dread sank into his stomach.
Their future crept in the back of his thoughts, obsessing over the fact that Finnian would one day have a nephew. A nephew Cassian planned on stealing to use for his own gain.
With the moment equivocally ruined, he bid his farewell to Finnian for the day and teleported back to the Land.
He strolled into his sitting room, straight for the bar cart, poured a glass of bourbon, tipped it back, and reveled in the burn numbing his esophagus.
A tumultuous energy pressed at his backside.
His shoulders stiffened, and he cut his eyes to the fluttering insect at his left.
Divine power pricked in his veins as he summoned a serpent to appear around his nape. It struck through the air, catching the death’s-head hawkmoth in its mouth.
It appeared his day was only destined to grow worse.
A low rumble of laughter came from the furniture behind Cassian.
He steeled in a breath and spun to greet his brother. “Acacius.”
The High God of Chaos and Ruin was lounged back on the sofa, propping his feet up on the accent table. His pale strands were tied back off his shoulders, and he wore a normal set of trousers and a fitted shirt. It was uncharacteristic of him to be in anything but his ominous robe and an animal carcass mask.
He tilted his head along the back of the cushion to look at Cassian. “And wherever are you coming home from?”
Cassian refilled his glass, swung it back, and gritted his teeth. “Remove your feet from my table.”
Acacius ignored his demand. “Could it be the young god’s city?”
It had been a decade since they’d had a conversation regarding Finnian in the graveyard, when Cassian had arrived to intervene with the triplets and Acacius had followed him. In those ten years, Cassian had not reached out to Acacius, and Acacius had kept his distance. There was a wedge between them, and it was Ruelle’s doing.
“Why are you here?” Cassian turned his attention to the window, the sour taste in the back of his throat growing thicker. He washed it down with another drink.
Acacius teleported from the sofa, materializing in front of him. He smoothed out the lapels of Cassian’s tailcoat. “I am here because I seem to have found myself between a rock and a hard place.”
Cassian’s heart stuttered as he analyzed his brother. There was a weight in him. A resignation in his eyes, a sag to his features one could easily mistake for exhaustion.
Acacius let out a dejected sigh and met Cassian’s gaze. “I have avoided the quarrel between you and Ruelle for as long as time would allow, but it seems now that time has come to an end.”
Cassian gripped his glass tighter. “And you choose her side.”
Acacius frowned, crossing his arms. “Is that what you really expect of me?”
“You have always had a tendency to fall quickly and walk blindly until you spiral off a cliff.”
His jaw set. “I assure you, I am not the one walking blindly here.”
Cassian dismissed his stupidity with a lousy wave and moved around him. “Do what you wish with your unrequited love, Acacius.”
“Ruelle truly loves me. Must I really attempt to convince you of our relationship?”
The brevity of his foolishness crawled all over Cassian. It was dosed with the guilt and resentment burdening him that had stolen away precious moments with Finnian. More and more each day, it was growing difficult to remain present.
Rage clipped in his vision, blotching the edges, and he whipped around. “If that is so, tell me why your darling Ruelle is so determined to torment me for something that took place between us thousands of years ago? If she were truly infatuated with you, Acacius, don’t you believe she would’ve let go of her vendetta by now? Do not fool yourself into believing what she feels for you is real when you are nothing more to her than a puppet.”
Acacius smiled, the cut across his face vicious. “And you truly believe that you mean anything more to Finnian? If his love was true, he wouldn’t have hesitated to give up his necromancy, but that hasn’t come to pass yet, has it? Because he never will. He will continue to steal your souls and you will stand by and allow it. You and I, we are no different, Brother.”
Cassian crushed his drink in his fist. Fractures of glass pierced through his skin and flesh. He stormed forward and snatched Acacius by the collar of his shirt. Ebony whorls of divine power swelled around Cassian’s backside, streaked with tendrils of golden lace, meeting the violent midnight storm of Acacius’s power in a head-on collision. “You and I are not the same!”
“Are we not?” Acacius roared back. “You love Finnian, despite his faults and selfishness! As do I with Ruelle!”
“Why are you here?” Cassian snarled.
Acacius slumped in Cassian’s hold, and the tension filling the space between them snuffed out. The ripples of their divine power disbanded into smoky ribbons drifting in the air, like cirrus clouds separating in a sky.
The longer Acacius went without replying, the more Cassian’s pulse jumped in fear.
Cassian shook his brother. “What is it? Tell me!”
Acacius lifted his head, brow crumbling in a dreadfully devastating way that filled Cassian’s stomach with nausea.
He held his brother’s eyes, desperately trying to decipher the source of their angst. Though, deep down, he knew.
“I came here to warn you,” Acacius said. “Ruelle is about to begin the process of unraveling yours and Finnian’s threads of Fate.”
The breath died in Cassian’s lungs.
What did you expect?
Five years seemed too short in the grand scheme of their immortality. Not now. Not yet. He refused to believe it.
“No.” He tightened his hold on Acacius’s shirt.
“You cannot resist this.”
Cassian shook his head. “Even if it comes to pass, whatever she throws at us, it will not make a difference. We will not let go of one another.”
Acacius’s eyes fell shut. “Brother, I know you. You will loathe yourself when mortals scorn Finnian for his necromancy and deities raid his city, when it is nothing but rubble and the lives of those he loves are underneath its ruin. When all he adores has been destroyed and there is nothing left but you. You will blame yourself, and, with time, he will come to loathe you. Just as Saoirse did. Walk away from him, so Ruelle does not have a way to meddle.”
The reality split like steel through his chest.
His mind chased every which way, all the possibilities Ruelle could inflict, their outcomes, and how— if —he could prevent such tragedies.
Once again, Cassian was at a loss.
It was just as he’d been back then with Saoirse, with no choice but to watch as her love for him withered. He’d nearly lost all sense and cursed Ruelle out of anger, unable to prove to the Council she’d meddled in the fates surrounding Saoirse’s.
He forced his curled fingers to let go of Acacius’s shirt and backed away. His wide eyes set on the large window behind Acacius, watching the dawn’s rose-gold light slowly seep into the room.
Acacius was right. He couldn’t do it—stand by and watch Ruelle take everything away from Finnian, at the cost of being with him.
A blaring white noise invaded his ears, and a rush of disorientation spun his head. He took a step back, and another. There was an unrelenting pain aching in his heart.
He’d been na?ve with Saoirse, to believe his feelings for her had been love. Perhaps to some degree, but not like this—not attached to his soul. An extension of himself. A love rooted so deeply, the thought of losing it sent Cassian into a paralyzing panic.
He could imagine the tedious road stretching out before him—a path filled with loneliness and endless despair. How could he ever continue on without Finnian?
Acacius gripped him by the shoulders. “Brother. Look at me.”
Cassian flinched at the sudden touch.
His eyes flitted onto Acacius, his tongue lead-soaked and his face prickling with numbness. “I cannot give Ruelle what she wants.” He brought a shaky hand up into his hair, a scream clawing up his throat. “I cannot give her what she wants!”
“I know!” Acacius squeezed both of his shoulders. “She will give up on you in time. I promise. Once she releases her obsession to seek revenge, she will fall into my love. It will heal all her wounds, and you will be free to love him again. I will make sure of it.”
Hopeful words of ignorance, unwilling to believe the truth. It was all a lie. Ruelle would never love him, just as she would never get over the belief that Cassian had taken her happiness away from her.
“You must give it time, Cassius.”
His heartbeat slurred as he dropped his hand back down to his side. “What am I to do? I cannot let go of him.”
“You have no other choice.” Acacius gave his shoulder a final squeeze before retracting his hand. “I can buy you one more hour with him. Go say your goodbye.”
He thought of Finnian and the detrimental feeling he’d described when he watched a person succumb to their death. The separation of breath, of light in their eyes. The end. The goodbye. For whatever reason, he could not understand. What was the purpose of life when it led to death?
Cassian had listened to Finnian rant hundreds of times over the matter, and yet, he never quite knew the words to say to help him understand.
Night had fallen in the Mortal Land when Cassian appeared outside of Finnian’s home, frantic and trying to process everything Acacius had said. Too occupied to think clearly, he hadn’t realized he’d shown up in his divine form—not as Everett. The thought followed him as he raced down the alleyway and through the backdoor of the townhouse, hoping no mortals had spotted him.
Finnian was hunched over his workbench when Cassian swung the door open. The gust rustled the flickering candlelight scattered around the room. The knob hit the brick, alarming Finnian to snap around.
“Wh—” His words fell short as he took in Cassian’s frazzled demeanor. He quickly rose from his stool and crossed the room to get to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I do not know where to begin.” Cassian was surprised to hear the quaking in his voice. He ran an anxious hand through his hair, his breath quick and shallow. “I must tell you everything.”
Finnian swiped his hand up and the door behind them shut. “Okay.” He studied Cassian carefully, worry pulling at the corners of his eyes.
“A long time ago, Ruelle fell in love with a mortal.” Cassian gripped his strands at the roots, attempting to steady the pace of his words against the invisible clock of his mind.
Why hadn’t he told Finnian of his past with Ruelle sooner?
“His name was Klaus, and he was murdered by a group of bandits,” he continued. “He was at the wrong place at the wrong time—a fate Ruelle could not change because she was merely a middle goddess.”
Finnian listened quietly, his expression unreadable. It sparked a jolt of uneasiness through Cassian’s already knotting insides.
“She came to me and begged that I bring Klaus back to life, but I refused. To do such a thing would be a steep price that I would have to pay for allowing the laws of the Universe to bend.” Cassian shook his head, rubbing his hand down his face. He dug his grip into the sides of his cheeks, peering down at the floor as he relived the ancient memory.
“That day she told me: Heed my warning . Whoever yearns in your soul will be just in reach, but never able to fully grasp. One day, when you know the kiss of love, all you will have left is regret .”
He’d stood over her back then, watching her tear-stained face twist in rage. Once she finished her threat, he told her to leave his Land. She would not be getting through his gates. Looking back, he expressed such an apathetic disposition towards her grief, but he sensed that if he had given her an inch, she would’ve clung to it with false hope.
Tension pulled at Finnian’s features. “Did Klaus not choose to reincarnate?”
Cassian let his hand fall back down to his side. “He chose to enter the Paradise of Rest.”
He reached for Finnian, desperate to hang onto him, as if that alone was enough to turn their threads of Fate into granite. “Acacius came to warn me.” A lump swelled in his throat. “Ruelle is going to begin unraveling the threads of our Fate. She will go after your city, after everyone within it, anything she can do to separate us from one another. And she will not stop until your thread no longer desires to reach out for mine.”
Finnian’s face paled. He shifted his body, pulling his hand away from Cassian as he looked down, eyes flitting around the floor. The tendons in his neck went rigid, and his pulse flickered visibly underneath the skin of his throat.
“Finny,” Cassian said. “Talk to me.”
“You should have told me the situation’s entirety long ago.” Finnian’s voice rose as he snapped around to Cassian, his expression hard.
“I know.” Cassian’s voice cracked. He grabbed Finnian’s hand again.
“Weaving mortals’ fates for her own gain must go against the Council.” Finnian seemed lost in thought as he spoke.
Cassian shook his head. “I do not have proof, and my word against hers would only create division among the Council. Ruelle is meticulous and others do not know the side of her that I do.”
His demeanor shifted sharply, withering the shock in his gaze and setting it ablaze. “I told you once before. She can do her worst, but it will not make a difference.”
“You do not understand what she will bring upon you. Do you honestly think I can stand back and allow your life to fall apart because of me?”
Finnian studied Cassian for a beat before letting out a clipped breath. “What is your plan, then? I assume you accounted for a worst-case scenario, and I know you. You wouldn’t have let time go on without crafting up something.”
Cassian frowned and looked down at Finnian’s hand in his own. “It is something you would not approve of.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Minutes had passed since Cassian had told him everything—how he intended to curse Naia, take her child, and kill Ruelle with its blood—and not a word had left him. Afterwards, he’d grimaced, turned away, and stalked over to his workbench, palms on its surface, shoulders taut, staring down at the clutter.
Cassian took a step towards him. “Finny, it was the only way I knew to?—”
“If our threads of Fate are to be unbound…” His voice was set, trembling with chilled fury. “I will be the one to do it. Not Ruelle. It will be done our way.”
Needle-like pinpricks spread throughout Cassian’s chest. It was the opposite of what he wanted to hear. He needed Finnian to be stubborn and refuse to let things end this way. He needed Finnian to tell him there was another way to beat her. To hell with Ruelle and Fate.
“What are you saying?” It took everything in Cassian to keep his voice above a whisper. Finnian’s impairment was always in the back of his mind that way.
Finnian faced him, pain cracking over his stone-set expression. “I am saying in the next century, you will carry through with your plan. You will curse Naia twice. I will remain here and set my sights on the Himura clan and draw Ronin to Hollow City. I will antagonize him. Make him hate me. In return, he will grow into a strong mage and attempt to overpower my rule in the city. When the time comes for Naia to hand over her child to you, she will offer herself in exchange and break her own curse. I know my sister. I will steal some of my nephew’s blood then and trade places with her. Hollow City will belong to her. Ronin will already have a place here. Their child will grow up safe. I will ensure it.”
The note of dread in his words accelerated Cassian’s heart. “And what of us during the next century and a half?”
Finnian went to the bookshelf at the back wall and waved his hand in the air. The structure of the books in the center melted away and a metal vault attached to the brick appeared.
He twisted open the handle and pulled out a vial filled with glittering cherry liquid. “I made this potion from one of the pomegranates in your orchard.”
The hysterical beat of Cassian’s blood surged up his neck and his head went light. “You assumed this would happen?”
“I asked myself: what would be the worst Ruelle could do to someone like you? We’ve been with each other for five years, and in that span, she hasn’t done a thing. If I were her, I would want you to grow attached just to rip it all away.” He paused, eyes locked with Cassian’s. “She will not touch our threads of Fate, because we will let go of each other before she can.”
And if one of them did not care for the other, their threads would unravel on their own. Leaving Ruelle powerless to interfere.
“No,” Cassian said with brutal finality, eyeing the potion in his grasp. Despite the twinge in his gut that agreed it was the right thing to do. “Absolutely not.”
Finnian glared at him. “I refuse to let her touch our threads, have that power over us. If we cannot beat her until Naia’s child is born, we have no other choice.”
“ No ,” Cassian said again, this time harder. “Whatever the potion does— no . We’ll find another way.”
He knew what it would do, how precious one’s memories were of those they cherished. He’d witnessed it time and time again. Souls pleading and crying for permission to eat from the fruit. Their memories of loved ones too heavy on their souls. Wandering in the Grove of Mourning was a process that would eventually soak up the pain, but forgetting was easier than sitting in the hollow shell of time, at its mercy, while waiting for the throes of love to separate from the memories of those they left behind.
Finnian started towards him. “It removes my memories of us. If I do not care for you, Ruelle loses all leverage, and you have time to execute your plan.”
Crippling dread shook in his legs. “No.”
He hated the thought of Finnian scouring his orchard late in the night, wracking his mind on ways to fight back in a battle that was never his to begin with. Remorse flooded Cassian for never telling Finnian the truth.
“When I trade places with Naia, you will have the blood of a Himura demigod, and you can use it to kill Ruelle. The pomegranate is directly linked to you and your divine power. When the time comes for me to regain my memories, you must make me drink from your blood.”
“ No !” Cassian shouted, bothered by how calmly Finnian spoke, how quickly his plan was forming. It was becoming too real, too overwhelming for Cassian to process.
Finnian reached out and cupped his cheek. A weak smile slid over his mouth as he pulled Cassian in, fusing their foreheads together. “We must do this, Cassius.”
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling a deep breath to steady himself. “You are much stronger than I am. Let me drink it.”
“You know that will not work. The orchard sprouted from your divine power.” Finnian’s fingertips hooked along his jawbone and buried their noses against each other’s cheeks. “You promised me forever.”
His vision blurred to the moisture collecting in his eyes. He ground his teeth, his hands enveloping the sides of Finnian’s neck. “And if your memories fail to return?”
“Then you must find a way to help me remember us.”
Cassian’s chest caved in. “ Finnian .” His voice crumbled.
Finnian held onto him tighter. “Once I drink this, every memory I have of us will be altered. There will be no warmth, no hesitation for you. You will be the High God who has attempted to curse me relentlessly, and I will feel nothing for you but hatred.”
Cassian pulled away, tears soaking down his cheeks, shaking his head. “I—I cannot do this.” He bent over and hung his head, hands coming up to squeeze his nape.
Finnian disappeared and reappeared with another vial. “I will embed my desires in the potion through a spell, so everything goes according to plan, but just in case, here. This is a binding potion.”
He shoved it in the front pocket of Cassian’s trousers.
“ If something goes wrong, by chance, and I don’t regain my memories, you must force me to take it. It will keep me bound to you. I know myself. I will find a way to break out of Moros and go after my father to free him and escape. You cannot allow me to do something the Council will demand my punishment on.”
Such punishment that would be catastrophic and forced by the Council’s hand that Cassian would not be able to sway.
His body shook, and he squeezed his nape harder. “I do not wish to do this, Finnian! You will go on without a remembrance of me, while I” — he slapped a hand over his chest — “will be forced to carry on my days with our memories without you. I will not make it …” A sob scraped up his throat.
Finnian threw his arms around Cassian’s neck, and their chests collided.
Cassian clung to him with broken wishes and no gods to pray to, crying into his partner’s skin.
They could beat Fate. Their love was strong enough to hold on. They didn’t need to do this. A century apart felt like a life sentence. Cassian couldn’t do it—stand from afar and watch Finnian live a life he wasn’t a part of, to face him and receive nothing but contempt.
“You can do this,” Finnian whispered, caressing the back of his head. “ I promise you, when we come out of this, our Fate will be ours . Untouched.”
“I am not strong enough to face you when you despise me. Even if it is only temporary.”
“You have before.”
“Not after knowing what it is like to love you.”
Finnian pulled back and dipped his chin, connecting their lips.
He tasted of licorice and salt, of coffee and early mornings with the sun dawning the city buildings. Notes of burning sage wafted from his hair. The remnants of crushed hyacinths lingered on the pads of his fingers. Cassian held onto it all. The soft, plush touch of his lips, and how Finnian kissed him fiercely, with passion.
One day.
He held the sides of Finnian’s face, crushing their lips together—prolonging the inevitable.
Something coiled underneath his arms. His heartbeat flickered in his throat as he looked down at the vines constricting around his arms and legs. It forced them apart and anchored Cassian backwards.
“No, not yet!” His pulse felt as if it had stopped. Tendrils of his divine power snaked out and cut away at the vines.
They grew back tenfold, sprouting thorns and protruding Cassian’s skin. He could feel the venom injected into his bloodstream as the muscles in his limbs went slack.
“You must leave.” Finnian popped the cork from the potion. “I cannot see you here.”
Cassian refused to give in. He fought against the vines. His hair slung in his eyes, sticking to his damp cheeks.
Crimson, glittering smoke rose from Finnian’s feet and slowly drifted up, encasing around Cassian. He could feel the charge of power, the blood-red abyss climbing over him and preparing to cast him into another scene. Panic lit his chest and dropped into his stomach.
His teeth gnashed as he pried an arm free from the strangling vines around him. “No, Finny! Wait?—”
“I loathe you,” Finnian gave him a final smile, his eyes pooling with tears.
“Finnian!” Cassian bellowed.
He lifted the vial to his lips and threw back his head.
The world heaved and swallowed Cassian into darkness.
And I long for you.
The words came to Cassian then. If he had one more chance to explain it to Finnian, he would.
Death was love, and love was death again.