Chapter 22 Cassius
~Cassius~
Ashmoor.
That was the last name I’d taken as part of my acclimatization to the mortal realm.
Although it had been the thing to do, to possess a last name—not something I had been familiar with when I’d resided on the Celestial Plane—it had barely been used in the several months since I’d adopted it.
And now it was about to be a great deal.
Professor Ashmoor.
It was certainly going to take some getting used to.
Just like a great deal of my life had been recently.
My life. Was that what it really was? Was I truly embarking on that? Or was I merely accustoming myself to this plane from the standpoint of survival and nothing more?
Hades, in truth, determining the answer to that was part of why I was here now.
At this place for the feared, the hunted, and the deadly.
I made my way down the corridors, taking in the deep red paneling and the low light evoking a soothing atmosphere from the orbs above flickering with flames.
Tapestries lined the walls. I adjusted my charcoal shirt which had ridden up from me flying here, then I tugged at the edges of my black jacket.
My boots clacked on the dark slate floors as I went, passing a few students on my way who looked me up and down, some showing curiosity, others seeming to indicate flirtatious interest. Perhaps.
I wasn’t well-equipped to discern that. At least not yet.
I was working on it, however, and a book that Lazriel had sent me as more of a dig or an insult that anything else, had actually been very helpful of late—Emotional Intelligence in the Modern Age.
As I reached my designated classroom, I found myself rubbing my multicolored beaded bracelet. It had been a gift from a couple of the children at Haven Initiative who’d made it together. Ketheron had several, he was that popular with them.
Every now and then, when things caused me undue stress, I’d taken to fiddling with it. According to that book, it was some sort of sublimation, an anxious tic, and a way to ground myself.
It was all terribly complicated.
So much about this mortal realm was.
I stepped into the classroom, and the surroundings were quite pleasant. The décor wasn’t overwrought or ostentatious, but simple and comfortable, yet also possessing an air of refinement.
Dark wood desks were paired with blue velvet chairs with the interesting addition of curved feet. Quartz panes of the windows stretched across the left side of the room. And I rather liked the stone archways functioning as doorways. It elevated the space.
I walked to the magical circle at the front near a desk intended for professors, several volumes floating in midair that I’d been informed by Dean Orlan Bovin altered with a flick of magic to reflect those related to the subject being taught at the time.
Ritual Ethics & Celestial Lawfare.
That was the subject that I’d come here to teach the students of Wraeven Academy.
Cornelius Martel had originally been slated to take on the role of Guest Lecturer for this particular topic. He was largely considered the original Immortal, the first Fallen who’d taken to assimilating onto the mortal plane. He’d also founded and headed the Guardian Movement for a long while.
However, his current role as Inter-Realm Ambassador as well as his much more covert responsibility as founder of Arcanum Order already had him incredibly busy.
The Dean had nearly reassigned the lecture to a Guardian Movement representative, somebody who did not possess firsthand knowledge of the Celestial Plane and merely knew the facts but without the detailed and personal lived insight that somebody like Cornelius and myself could provide.
I’d stepped in instead, meeting with the Dean to offer my services, and he’d been overjoyed that somebody of my esteem when it came to Celestial matters was actually interested in teaching the students here.
As much as I didn’t like to draw attention to myself—or highlight my experience as an agent of the Celestial Plane, given the despicable acts they’d come to commit—it was a subject I held a wealth of knowledge on.
And it was something that needed to be known and explored, especially among young supernatural beings who were just starting out in the world.
It was an ultimate cautionary tale, in fact, and they could learn much from it.
Personally, however, taking this role put me right where I needed to be.
No longer standing at a distance to my little shadow, while also not invading her space in an unsettling way. Given the fact that she wouldn’t be taking this class, it further served to ensure it wasn’t too invasive. And it also avoided any issues with professor-student power dynamics.
At least with her.
I would operate the same with her two loves who were actually a part of my class.
It wasn’t my intent to complicate her life.
I was here to assist.
Just like the wolf hybrid had impressed upon me.
For all my efforts to prevent myself from making direct contact with Velra and impacting her life, here I was now doing this.
On the surface, it was at the insistence of Lazriel and Sylas, their concerns that she needed my assistance, and assistance that only I could provide given our Soul Brand.
Truthfully, though, it was more than that.
The other day had made that clear to me when I’d felt a great deal of pleasurable intensity from her through our tether. It had taken me a while to realize it had been her with them—engaging in sexual acts with them.
It had startled me and unnerved me at first.
Then it had evolved into a great deal more.
Regret and grief that she’d moved forward with them while I’d been keeping my distance and erecting a wall between us, and now she had them instead.
And, yes, jealousy.
Without a doubt.
I hadn’t been able to cast that awful sensation away either.
It lingered.
I detested the taste of it.
It unsettled me that I was being afflicted with those emotions, that I was now failing to deny that she affected me so deeply.
Worse—that I wanted it. That I wanted to be the one creating those sensations in her too, that I wanted to be there with her. In every way imaginable.
“Please heed my words. Do not trouble yourself with this. Concentrate on living your life. On the good and positive. That cannot come to pass for you if you allow yourself to care for me. I am linked to a fate that does not allow for that.”
I gritted my teeth as I recalled those words I’d spoken to her when I’d first noticed her trying to draw closer to me.
I’d drawn a line that night.
Even after she’d liberated me from the Celestial Plane when I’d been trapped there following my fall, things between us had seemed possible, but I’d pushed her away yet again.
I’d been afraid for her, for what growing closer to me would do to her, the pain and depressiveness it would bring her.
At least that was what I’d told myself and what I’d held onto all this time.
But the truth was—something the shock of her drawing close to Lazriel and Sylas had jarred me into acknowledging—was that I’d been afraid for me as well. That I’d lose control of my faculties around her. That I’d succumb to the overwhelming feelings she inspired in me.
Footsteps sounded, jarring me from my thoughts. Thankfully.
I looked out to see students beginning to filter in through the majestic arched doors.
As I readied the levitating books to reflect the subject matter for this particular course, I heard whisperings, sounds of surprise and awe, and after I flicked to the correct page for my lecture today, I looked out to see several dozen students staring out at me as they took their seats.
What was—oh—of course.
I had garnered quite a reputation from my Celestial lineage alone, and the fact that I had been deeply involved in the Severance, playing a strategic role that had allowed it to come to pass, something I had almost perished for.
I suppose it had been perceived as heroic in their minds.
In fact, I knew it had. Ryker Morgan and Ariana had both warned me and informed me of the reality of my newfound celebrity.
But given that I spent my time either at Haven Initiative or at the apartment, I hadn’t encountered it as yet, not in these many months. Even when Ketheron and I ventured out to visit certain landmarks across the supernatural world, we did so under the cover of night.
I offered a lift of my chin and a polite smile, something I hoped would humanize me and ground me in reality for them, not keep me in a celebrity fantasy state.
That would really not be conducive to this lecture.
Some averted their gazes, others returned my mild gesture, while the remaining few settled themselves into class, readjusting their focus to the task at hand.
More filtered in and I concentrated on readying myself to discuss subject matter that was uncomfortably personal to me, but which needed to be learned by the next generation.
Free will had almost been compromised entirely, that most certainly wasn’t something to merely shrug off.
The fact that it hadn’t come to pass had been due to the supreme efforts and risk of a select few.
It should never have reached that point in the first place and classes like this, learning from such awful mistakes, would go a long way to preventing any sort of re-occurrence like that from transpiring.
It could not happen with the Celestial Plane because it was forever cut off from the mortal world, however violations of free will could happen in other forms, by others with great power.
We were never safe from that when there were those who existed who valued power over life and liberation, so we had to do all that we could to guard against it.
I eyed the clock high up on the west wall.
I’d allowed for an extra minute before I marked the start of class.
I flicked my fingers at the door to seal it so that we could begin without interruptions from tardy students.