Chapter 4 Cas
CAS
My mind took in every inch of the room, searching for answers, analyzing, calculating.
The bed was so small my feet dangled off the end when I awoke.
The machines, frantically beeping as soon as they could no longer find anyone to scan, emanated faint magic—nothing harmful.
Also nothing useful. I noted that they didn’t seem designed to check on a person’s vitals, so much as their level of energy.
They’d been trying to gauge my power, assessing me as a threat.
The faint voices I could remember confirmed as much.
You want to treat a bloody god like a lab rat?
Her voice was distinctive because she’d spoken to me more than the rest, and because I’d actually heard it just now.
Lab rat. While unfamiliar with the term, the concept spoke for itself.
I’d meant to sleep much longer, of that I was certain, but those words, and the commotion around me, demanded that I awoke ahead of schedule.
Sadly, I couldn’t recall why I’d intended to stay in a coma.
The corners of my mouth twitched as I glanced back at the sneering little doll wearing all her doubts on her face.
She didn’t believe a word I’d said, that much was clear.
Too bad for her, I hadn’t lied. I genuinely couldn’t remember my name at the moment.
I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten to this place either.
My head was full of images, sounds, and feelings I couldn’t make sense of—too many of them, all at once, without a thread to follow.
I could recognize recent memories, such as her voice babbling away about her mundane daily life, but the rest was a confusing jumble.
The prevalent emotion screaming in my head was rage. Pure, unadulterated fury. It took some effort, but I tamped it down, resisting the urge to give in. I had no clue who I was so furious at, or why.
The doll’s friends seemed nice enough, but I sensed that they, unlike the gaggle of healers who ran at the first opportunity, wouldn’t respond favorably to aggression.
I was more than happy with the idea of letting it all out once I figured out who I wanted to pummel into oblivion.
In the meantime, I needed to control myself.
I agreed with the redheaded healer’s assessment. My memories would return—or rather, they’d eventually align. The jumble was slowly taking shape. Already I recognized a few faces. Mother, brother. And a sister who looked nothing like the first. Two fathers, too.
Gods, this was a huge mess.
While my mind recovered, I decided accepting the hospitality of these strangers was the best way forward. As a bonus, it seemed to irritate the pretty little pink doll glaring daggers at me from the back of our small procession.
As the couple led us inside what happened to be a circular tube, I turned to the doll.
Silver, her friend had called her, and it fit those eyes and the silver strands in her pink hair to a T.
The couple of scratches I caused when I inadvertently blasted her necklace had bled silver also.
They were already closed up, her smooth skin unmarred.
“So, did you ever manage to capture that thief you complained about?”
She never finished her stories, just saying whatever crossed her mind.
Silver gasped. “You remember that but not your name?”
Disbelief clung to every syllable.
I tilted my head, smiling down at her. “You left me hanging in the middle of a riveting story. I’m fairly certain I’ve started wars for less.”
The words felt true, and the many memories now flashing through my mind confirmed them.
I started countless wars, with an incalculable number of creatures, including tentacled monsters of the deep, giants the size of mountains, dragons, demons, gods, and even a particularly irritating horde of unicorn. They had it coming.
I filed that knowledge away to explore at my leisure later.
“You told him about a raid?” Kleos asked Silver, before turning to me. “And you remember it?”
She didn’t appear as skeptical as her friend, but I opted to explain as honestly as I could. “Past memories—they’re a mess. Too many of them. I can’t make sense of much. But I remember what I heard in my sleep.”
The redhead nodded. “I mean, you fell from I don’t know how high—you likely hit your head, hard. But given your nature, I doubt you’ll be permanently harmed.”
Because I was a god. That was what Silver had called me, and I accepted it as a fact. I knew I was a god. God of what, I wasn’t sure, but something told me it wasn’t hugs and kitten.
The cylinder travelled downwards, eventually opening its doors to a vibrant world shrouded in stones and darkness. We were underground, yet this place brimmed with magic and life—more so than what I’d felt when we were in the hall above.
“The underside?” I gleaned.
Silver had mentioned her friend moved there.
There was a twinge of disapproval, or at the very least, surprise at this fact, and I honestly didn’t see why.
If I were given a choice between the scheming, the whispers, the small amount of power, and the watchful threats I’d sensed above and the lively cheerfulness here, I wouldn’t have hesitated.
Live at peace down here, and spend time above to entertain myself by watching the chaos.
Maybe I was the god of mischief.
The moment the thought came to me, I dismissed it, my mind clearly picturing a dark green-haired creature who narrowed his serpentine eyes at me. Loki, according to the Norse, Python, to the Greeks, and so many names throughout the infinity of time.
I sighed. Why could I remember that prick so clearly, and yet, not know who I was?
“Are you all right?” the healer asked gently.
I noticed that my hand had moved to the side of my head.
“Headache,” I said between clenched teeth.
“I feel that. Usually, I’d offer to help, but I don’t think it’s a normal kind of headache.”
She was right about that. Even as the pain became more acute, I could sense so many more memories blasting through my mind.
“This way,” her husband said, gesturing to a carriage. “Let’s get you home. I know the perfect remedy for what ails you.”
“That’s some good fucking wine,” I grunted in approval, offering my glass for a third refill.
The man was right. While it didn’t stop the many images flooding my mind, the wine did take the edge off, either distracting me or lessening the pain.
“You can thank my grandfather for religiously acquiring ten cases of good Bordeaux per year.”
I lifted the refilled glass towards the nearly identical man on the other side of the drawing room in acknowledgment.
The ancient version of Lucian, Cassius, was arm wrestling Silver over the coffee table. The little doll got smugger by the minute as she kept winning round after round.
“Very welcome,” he grumbled dejectedly, rubbing his shoulder. “Another round?”
Silver shook her head. “I’d wipe the floor with you again if I had the time, old man, but I have a promotion to accept in less than an hour and I’m not even dressed. Better get going.”
“Oh, we’ll tag along,” Kleos said, jumping to her feet.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Lucian agreed, with a slight degree of sarcasm. “Cas, make yourself at home. If you lose your way, Cassius may help.” Cassius was already out of the room. “Or you could ask the house for directions, too. It’ll answer if it feels like it.”
House was a slight understatement from the short tour they gave me. We only covered one of the wings, and I counted dozens of rooms.
“As much as the prospect of getting lost in this bloody labyrinth is appealing, I’ll accompany you,” I stated, immediately earning an adorable little scowl from the pink doll.
In the hour we spent day drinking in the blue drawing room, her hair had gotten less pink, the silver shining through, eating at the dye.
There was something appealing to this mercurial pixie, and also strangely familiar, though I couldn’t place her in the memories I was still attempting to sift through. Besides, her blatant mistrust entertained me. It was rather rare to find anyone so open and honest about their feelings.
“I don’t see why not. Let’s just find you something to wear,” Lucian offered.
I glanced down to my shirtless chest. It was pure muscle, defined, hard earned, and I quite liked displaying it. That said, my pants were rather ill fitted, so I followed my host back to the spare bedroom he offered me.
There were several pieces of clothing in the wardrobe, but none were likely to fit. After rifling through it all, Lucian sighed. “Follow me.”
He led the way to what must have been his own bedroom, given the scent and the lived-in feeling of the place. It adjoined a large walk-in closet.
One half was full of dresses, high heels on display, and given that they looked too small for Lucian, I had to conclude they belonged to his ginger half.
“Here, the pants I designed during my court-appointed stint as a protector. The fabric’s adaptive.”
I accepted the dark fitted trousers, passing my hand over the fabric which hummed with residual magic.
This fabric was a lot more than adaptive.
I whistled appreciatively. “The finest wool and silk, imbued with shields. Magical protection, spell detection, delay, repellent. Some fireproofing?” I identified, sensing the hints rippling off the fabric.
“However did you manage all that without the fabric catching fire?”
“My patented permanence spell. A bitch to brew, but it allows me to stabilize each layer without them interfering with each other. Give it a try.”
Lucian was perhaps an inch or two taller than me, but I was considerably bulkier around the shoulders and thighs. His waist was also slimmer. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for me to fit into his pants, but I watched the fabric glimmer as it stretched over my muscles, adjusting to my size.
“The shaping spell was technically to allow me to move however I want, not to mention, put whatever I want in my pockets without fucking with the silhouette, but I figured it would work.”
I tentatively bent my knees, feeling the fabric expand and adapt, ridiculously comfortable.
“There are gods who’d pay your weight in Olympian gold for this,” I asserted, feeling the truth in my words.
“We try our utmost to not bring the attention of Olympians to us, right now,” he replied, handing me a shirt and a fitted coat.
Both fit, but I removed the coat, not fond of weight around my shoulders.
“It’s rather chilly out there, mate,” he warned me.
I considered the information.
I may not know who I was yet, but I was starting to understand what I was. “Not to me.”