Chapter Text
On long rides like this, Cassandra often found herself torn between observing their surroundings and observing the man that in her heart she called brother. Blood be damned, her and Jacob had been together through too much and for too long to be anything but. Before the war had become the exhausted stalemate it now was, they hadn’t been a pair of strange birds sticking together.
They had been a trio.
Jacob, Ezekiel, and her. Her, the witch, Jake, the knight, Ezekiel, the thief. They had been a force to be reckoned with, in the service of King Flynn & Queen Eve. But the war had taken many friends from them, Ezekiel included. To Jake and Cassandra, it had felt like losing a part of themselves. However, it had not broken them. Now they were stronger than ever, hardened from battles with werewolf and vampire alike, adept in fighting back the creatures of the night.
Before losing Ezekiel, Jacob had always loved long journeys. He had been talkative and spirited, and often stopped to hunt with great success, Ezekiel gleeful at his side. But as their friends died in front of them and the war ravaged the land, the glee of life began to leave the knight’s meaty shoulders. Now he was solemn and silent on their journeys unless Cassandra prompted him. She found herself wondering what Ezekiel would say, if he could see how the life had left the two of them. Ezekiel had always had such a passionate belief in loving life…she wondered if her friend would weep or laugh at the state of the world now. Maybe, she dared ponder, it was better that he died young and in the brightness of those better days.
The sunlight pushed its way through the forest’s thick canopy above them in its effort to glint off of Jacob’s armor. Said armor was still dented, scratched and smeared with dried blood from the rigorous battle they had been subjected to a few days’ ride ago, long before they had reached the Western Forest.
“We’ll be near the bloodsucker border soon, be wary.” Jacob called back to her suddenly, shaking her out of her thoughts. She huffed, her red robe fluttering slightly in the breeze as it hung around her face.
“They’d dare not cross into our territory, not even a fang’s length across that border, not after King Carsen slayed Dracula and Renoir in one blow.” Cassandra announced. Almost as if in approval, her horse whinnied, white mane fluttering in the breeze, tiny little braids catching the light just right. Another product of long journeys alone with her best friend.
“The rumors of your arrogance are true, witch!” Came a chilling, amused voice, echoing out through the trees. Cassandra’s spine straightened instantly, and she was whirling around in an to scan the treeline.
“Cassandra, up-” Jacob began to shout, but it was too late. Darkness descended in one fell swoop from above. Suddenly, there was a weight landing on her and a piercing pain in her neck. The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was Jake’s screams.
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Blood. The smell of blood; rusted metal and the sticky heat of life. Burning red against the endless night. That was what awoke Cassandra, drew her out of a painfully entered darkness that was just as painful to exit. It came slow but she pushed, knowing that dread was waiting and eager to meet it for fear of losing even more than she already had.
Her heavy eyelids snapped open, adjusting quickly to the contrast of her new surroundings. She was on her knees, bent forward, hands bound behind her. The first thing she noticed was the lack of Jake. Oh, god, please don’t be dead. I can’t lose Jake, I can’t lose another brother. She found herself praying as she regained her bearings. The second thing she noticed was the lack of her magic. The blood she smelled was her own, dripping from wounds she could feel sharply on her neck. Fang wounds. Vampires
“Don’t try anything, witch.” A snarling voice commanded from in front of her. From the shadows of the stonewalled, shady room, slithered a snake Cassandra knew by reputation alone. The patriarch of the First Coven and chief of the Vampirical Legions. Cassandra felt a strange weight around her neck as she tried to sit up, and realized it was a collar. A rune collar - to block her magic. Cold terror ran through Cassandra as she felt as helpless as a new babe all of the sudden. A new babe, being set upon by a murderous predator.
When Thomas was close enough, he leaned down, glaring down his ridged nose at her. His skin was…tan? How could his skin be tan? His dark eyes flicked over her confused expression in satisfaction. Then he stepped forward further, putting his face directly in the ray of sunlight that entered the center of the room through the only window, high upwards in the roof. Cassandra’s eyes widened as his face didn’t burn.
“How?!” Cassandra breathed. Tomas laughed, stepping through the pillar of sunlight and brushing her hair out of her face. She jerked away from his touch, disgusted, and his smile instantly turned into a snarl. He backhanded her, with a touch of his superhuman strength, sending her reeling to the side, her body crashing into the stone. She crumpled to the floor, still bound, feeling like she had surely been flattened momentarily by that impact.
“Insolent little human, I can’t wait to suck all the magic from the marrow in your bones!” Thomas snarled at her viciously, stalking towards his helpless, disoriented prey. He seemed to hum with superhuman energy and his face grew darker, more twisted, fangs protruding farther. He reached down and grabbed onto the collar around her neck, using it to lift her up, dangling her in front of him like she was nothing. She choked and struggled, black encroaching on her vision, but she could do nothing. And worse still, it was chilling how little effort it was taking him to do all of this to her. And still, she could not reach her magic.
“I’ll save your head, though. I can’t wait to send it back to your precious King.” Thomas spat, before he started to rear back his head. Before he could descend on his helpless captive, however, something happened. Cassandra spotted a glimmer of yellow out of the corner of her eye, like pollen and sunlight, and suddenly there was another powerful presence descending upon their struggle.
“Tomas! Brother, please, you promised me!” The woman’s voice pleaded angrily, her hand on his arm, halting him. He turned to her, some of the tension leaving him at her touch on instinct. Who was this woman to him? Cassandra struggled to see anything other than her arm, from how high and the angle Thomas was choking her at. But her voice was like bells, the church bells of the great cathedrals across the mountains Flynn had taken her to years ago. Echoing out with the clarity of the sky and the rhythm of the earth.
“Brother, you are too rash. There is information we could gain from her yet! You promised me I could have her, you know you owe me.” She chastised, and yet there was something else to her voice, something...more familiar than even a consort. Sister, maybe? Lord Thomas has a sister, yes, the Lady Estrella...she was said to be as beautiful as she was fearsome in battle. What did she want with Cassandra?
“Do not chide me in front of others, sister, or I will make you remember your place!” Thomas hissed angrily, jerking Cassandra up higher, causing her to cry out as her vision began to fade. She didn’t hear what Estrella or Thomas said next, their exchange sounded far away, as if Cassandra was starting to drown. But then, before she knew it, Thomas let go of her. She began to crash to the floor, except at the last minute, disturbingly strong arms caught her, sweeping her up instead of letting her hit the ground. And they were not Thomas’ arms, Cassandra could tell that much before she finally passed out.