Cassandra Pendragon

My first ever shouting match, since I had become more than a wailing toddler, wasn’t as much fun as I had believed it to be. Astra and I… we hadn’t exactly found common ground when it came to abstract ramifications of power and responsibilities, never mind the far more personal aspects, like where to draw the line that’d allow me to slow roast someone’s arse over an open fire. For me, the elven royals had already crossed it, something my pointy eared friend simply couldn’t understand after all the leniency I had shown before. I don’t intend to repeat every, increasingly loud, argument we exchanged but maybe you might just get where I was coming from.

Every leader we had so far encountered was a self made king, their power granted through fights they had won and the strength they had shown. Surely not the best basis for an inclusive, rational society, but something I could respect, none the less. The royal family of the Emerald Island was different. They had inherited the throne, their only challenges and therefore their only responsibilities tied to the people they were sworn to protect. Which, in my eyes, made it blatantly obvious that they had to be judged by different standards, namely their designs for their people, and nothing else. I had already heard plenty to get an idea of how horrendously they were actually doing and my consideration, which would have been immeasurably more pronounced if they had been force to unite their country against the adversities of a cruel world, was close to zero. Sure, I wasn’t going to hold children and relatives responsible for the acts of a very few individuals, but the king, who had condoned the experiments on Astra and Aspera and the deeds that had led to the brewing war, as well as his power hungry son, were as good as dead. The reason was simple: they had had a choice. Much more of a choice than the Captains around here, who would have been devoured whole, if they had shown even the slightest sign of weakness, had been given. Perhaps even more so than Amon, who, despite his cruelty, had never done anything the world hadn’t taught him before. If I was willing to burn his soul to ashes, which wasn’t much of a question, there really wouldn’t be a reason to treat the elven leaders differently. I don’t mean to imply that I was already dead set on executing the bunch of them openly, but my willingness to… make a mistake I couldn’t rectify, to use my own words, was very much there.

Truth be told, if Ahri, or someone else I truly trusted, had asked me to, I would have been prepared to take flight this very instant and make sure the girl, who had summoned me, wouldn’t suffer anymore. But that was mainly my anger speaking, which had had a field day ever since I had heard Lyra’s story. I couldn’t even begin to describe how much her plight had touched me. My last life had ended for the very same reason, after all. Maybe on a larger scale, but when it came down to it, she had turned against her family because they thought themselves above everyone else. A sentiment I had given my life to rectify and apparently, so had she. Lucky for her, a diamond tomb wasn’t the same as being thrown into the chasm of souls. Less lucky for her distant relatives, I was quite on edge and entirely unprepared to even budge an inch.

Which meant Astra and I were by now standing nose to nose, faces flushed, screaming at the top of our lungs, while everyone else was watching curiously, their eyes darting from left to right, just as if they were following the finals of the Australian Open. Considering what I was, my friends surely had lost any form of inhibition when it came to pushing my buttons. Only my grandmother had seemed slightly worried at first, but after a whispered explanation, courtesy of my little sister, she had relaxed as well and strapped in to enjoy the show.

With quite an effort I swallowed another tirade and forced my voice into a calmer register.

“Look, you’re right, it’s in no way my place to forcefully change how the lot of you live your lives. Usually I’d simply steer clear of the whole conundrum all together, but that’s hardly an option, now, is it? One, I’ve already been called to help and two… do you really want me to stay out of it? Considering what we’ve had to suffer through in the last weeks, or even days, do you honestly believe that we’d be better off if I… if we didn’t get involved? It sucks, it honestly does, but all of us… we’ve become strong enough that our decisions aren’t as straight forward anymore as they used to be. If you can look me in the eye and tell me that you,” with a gesture I included her sister and Lyra, “all of you think your people would be better off if I kept my hands clean, then, by all means, let’s forget the whole debacle. I’ll go and collect Zara and leave the rest of your people to their own devices. Sure, they’ll most likely be ground to dust between the fey and whatever else might happen… at the very least you can expect your royals to cement their rule with an iron fist, but it won’t be my doing. Damn it, if it wasn’t for Amon, breathing down our necks, I would have even suggested as much myself, but unfortunately there is no compromise. If we try to… help, we’ll clash with your nobles, one way or the other. Why do you even defend them?”

“Because they’ve held our society together for longer than anyone can remember,” she almost screamed. “What good does it do if you protect them from their enemies only to have them drown in chaos?” I chuckled derisively.

“Bite me. You’ve seen what has happened, is still happening, here. I don’t run, Astra, I never do. Do you really think I’d simply walk into the palace, tear apart the king and his posse and march out again? I’ve already told Zara but apparently I’ve got to tell you too: I’m no one’s hangman. But… whether for good or ill, I’ve got the power to do exactly that. If you want to secure it for your people, it comes with a whole bunch of consequences, one of them is me acting how I see fit and damn the consequences. Honey, I’ve been ancient when your king was still in diapers. Yes, I think I know better. Either you want me to help, with everything it entails, or you don’t. Make up your mind. You said you’ve come to know me… tell me this, then: aside from your blabbering about peace, stability and rights, where am I mistaken? Let’s make it really simple. To me, Lyra is the only one I’ve met and heard of who is, in any way, by blood or deed, deserving of a royal title. If anything it’s her decision to make. If you’re so set on defending your traditions, why not ask her what she actually wants?” More gently I added: “what do you think? We’ve been going in circles… it’s your home as much as it is theirs. Do you want to risk its past to secure its future?” She hadn’t expected me to involve her, judging from her panicked expression, but she still took a moment to think about everything she had heard.

“I don’t think I truly understand the problem,” she finally answered hesitantly. “There are no safe choices. Either way our people will have to cope with strife and the madness our world is descending into. I’d much rather have two immortals on our side than not, especially if it means we might change our ways… I owe you, all of you. You’ve freed me, sheltered me, welcomed me with open arms. I don’t think it’s my decision to make but if you want to know what I think… I’ve already risked my life to go against our traditions. I won’t shed a single tear if they have to die for us to live. Also… I’ve come to know the two of you,” she focused on the elven sisters, “quite well. You’re not really voicing your convictions, but rather your fears. You fear that you might make everything worse for our people and you feel responsible, seeing as you’re the only ones present who could possible convince Cassandra to… accept what we have become. Don’t. You’re right, our people aren’t bad, but our obsession with power and age is. That’s no way to rule or prosper. If we can’t change, it won’t matter much what happens with the fey or even Amon. Sooner or later, our society will crumble anyways. You can mistreat a creature only this often before it fights back. And when that happens… your own concerns pale in comparison to civil war.”

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“Are you moonstruck,” Astra exclaimed. “Civil war is exactly what we’ll get, if two angels suddenly decide to dethrone the king! There’ll be the ones in favour, the ones scared and the ones eager to dish out revenge and everyone else will suffer! How can we possibly…”

“Like this,” I sated quietly, spreading my arms. “Just like this. Free Land isn’t drowning in its own blood, is it, and we haven’t exactly been careful with how we treat the Captains. Hell, most are dead, anyways. Why do you think it’s going to be so much worse on the Emerald Island?”

“Because we’re old, stubborn and prideful. And while I do think that most elves will actually share your view, they’ll still side with their monarch and in contrast to the pitiful lot we’ve encountered here, they’ll rather die, fighting against you, then sit by idly while you destroy what they’ve built over the years.” She sighed, and pleaded quietly: “please, why does it always have to be all or nothing? Can’t we just…”

“What,” I interrupted her, even though I felt slightly bad about it, “what exactly is the alternative? Pretend like everything is just shiny while we try to facilitate a truce with the fey? Maybe grab the ones who are suffering on the way out and let the rest be? How do you imagine that’d work out?”

“Gods, give me patience. That’s what I’ve been trying to hammer through that thick skull of yours! You haven’t lived there, you don’t know shit about us, except for a few tales and the handful of stories we’ve shared! But yet, here you are, huffing and puffing like an enraged bull only because you can’t distance yourself from your own past! Yes, our nobility is failing, our royals have lost their way, but that’s our problem, not yours. I don’t begrudge you your right to help the girl who summoned you, but that doesn’t mean you can simply waltz in and change our way of life over night! Unless you intend to wear the crown yourself and deal with every little problem that’s going to crop up, it’s not your place to do so! And you, my feathered, stubborn friend, are much too scared to make mistakes to ever take up the mantle! As long as you’re not prepared to weather the flames you have no right to light the fire!”

“Are you calling me a coward,” I flared up again, my eyes igniting with silvery sparks.

“By the gods, no, but I’m telling you: the only way you’re going to achieve anything even remotely sustainable lies with going there to stop a war and fulfil your promise, your obligation. Anything else will lead to even more suffering. I do know you, Cassandra. As riled up as you are, you’re going to see one tiny little thing that rubs you the wrong way and you’ll lose it, you’ll explode and when the dust settles, there probably won’t be much left, aside from ruins! We’re an old people… when you live long enough, you make mistakes. Where will you draw the line? Will you kill anyone who has ever bound a familiar or simply the ones who are responsible? If that’s the case, why bother at all? From what you’ve said, you’re not exactly on the side of the fey, either. Why not let them kill each other? The outcome would probably be the same.”

“Keep it up and I just might,” I snarled. “I can always mop up the ashes, afterwards, can’t I? If you’re…” good intentions aside, I was on the verge of actually exploding. Her comments about my past and also my hesitancy to step up, even when it might be advisable, had stung and I was already preparing a long rant on how much I valued her opinion and where she could shove it for all I cared, something I’d probably have regretted not an hour later, but I never got that far.

“Enough,” Ahri said, her voice yet devoid of any actual power but I could already feel the thrumming echoes building deep within her. She turned to me, her expression stern but her eyes twinkling. “Cassy… why don’t you take a walk?”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” I erupted, flabbergasted. I had never expected her to side with Astra, but after a few moments of me trying to stare her down, unsuccessfully, I might add, she smiled brightly. The vixen nimbly jumped to her feet and stole a kiss, while I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “You’re right, entirely,” she whispered against my lips, “but with your power leaking out of your every orifice you can hardly expect her to listen, can you? Let me try while you cool off. As you are now I wouldn’t manage a single sentence without any interruptions.”

“But she’s the epitome of self control, isn’t she” I mumbled mulishly.

“Not really, but you’re mine and I can tell you to cool your heels without a bad conscience. Not so much with her. Trust me. Half an hour. Also… if you’re alone, chances are your timid fan club might just find the courage to talk to you. Wouldn’t that be worth it?” She was bribing me openly, but I had to admit, it worked. Well, coming from her mostly anything would have… she was also right. If we were left to our own devices, we would still be arguing… screaming around in circles come dawn. Damn it, I was really starting to grow up.

“Fine.” I kissed her again for good measure and turned to the agitated elf. “Maybe she can get through that thick skull of yours. And just so you know, I haven’t forgotten your comments about my past nor that you’ve called me a bull. You’ll either have to explain what you meant or you’ll have to buy me a drink. Both would also be an option. Anyways, I’ll act like the grown up here and leave it at that.” My entire family snorted merrily at my words and I had to bite back another flood of rather inappropriate remarks. Head held high I whirled around on the spot and walked off into the night, still fuming like a chimney on Christmas. The musical laughter of my sister, joined an instant later by the deeper, more sonorous sound of my gran’s voice and my mom’s mirthful barks, didn’t help, either. Damn it! Either people feared me or they didn’t take me seriously! What was wrong with this stupid world? Aside from the obvious, lethal and immortal problems, that was…

Without even realising I had headed away from the dwarven celebration, the improvised camp, the raucous laughter and subdued conversations. I wasn’t overly eager on talking to anyone and it had been quite a while since I had last had a moment to myself. Not that I missed it but since I had been told to take a hike I wouldn’t squander the chance. Which… damn it! If I went to hide somewhere, I’d lose my bet and be wearing outrageous dresses for the next month. I just couldn’t catch a break, could I?

Resignedly I turned my steps away form the beckoning quiet and inviting shadows on the other side of the garden and headed instead towards one of the largest cherry trees. The quick walk over soft, luscious grass, while the fragrances of thyme, basil, rosemary, lavender and chamomile tickled my nose, improved my mood significantly. Not enough to actually make me smile but at least I didn’t feel like I had to beat up a mountain anymore. A tree, perhaps, or one stupid, shortsighted, stubborn hag of an elf. Alright, maybe I wasn’t yet as calm as I had thought. Which was rather ironic, come to think of it. I was pretty convinced that Astra was feeling the same way about me, right now, and yet we’d be able to hug one another once we had cooled down. She truly was a friend. Which made it rather ironic, since the people you truly cared about were also the ones who had the easiest time of driving you up the walls.

Sighing I collapsed against the trunk, the gnarly roots spreading around me like a craggy, brown skirt. I leaned my head against the weathered bark and closed my eyes, savouring the scents on the wind and the low, almost orchestral sounds of the night. Birds and bats dancing through the air, mice and squirrels scurrying through the darkness, soft words, spoken in hushed tones, coming from the camp beds… and the steps of a wolf kin and a human girl coming ever closer.