The people have spoken, no redemption for caster…
---
This was… Unexpected.
Although Sunny had no clue where Caster had previously been sent to.
It for sure was not this close to Cassie and Nephis.
Another surprise, was how there had been no other Sleepers arriving at the forgotten shore, Sunny remembered how someone once told him, that every year, fewer sleepers get sent to the forgotten shore.
And this time? It was just those three, who—by only misfortune—had been sent to this wretched hellscape.
Cassie was the closest to him, wrapped in a fetal position, wearing a graceful cloak. Awaiting certain death.
Sunny had considered bestowing upon her the [Grace of Shadows] however, he wanted to turn Serpent into a Divine Shadow before attempting it.
Her only hope was being sent to a human controlled part of the Dream Realm, somewhere like Bastion, or Ravenheart. Yet fate had other plans, Cassie had been sent to the Forgotten Shore, a place where the strong scrape by, and the weak die off.
'Well, first things first I guess.'
He stepped through the shadow. No sound. No flash. Just—presence.
One moment, he was alone.
The next, he was standing beside her.
His voice didn't pass through the air—it passed through soul.
Through the mental connection, gentle and clear.
[Hey, Cassie.]
It was warm. Familiar. Not a threat.
Cassie stirred.
Slowly, her body shuddered. She turned her head slightly, as if trying to place him.
Then—she gasped, bolting upright.
[W-What? Sunny? Bu—But how are you here?]
She reached blindly toward the voice, then froze halfway.
Fear coiled in her throat. Her hands shook.
Sunny kept still, let her feel him through the air between them.
[I told you I'd find you.]
Cassie opened her mouth again, then stopped.
Her expression shifted. Confusion. Hesitation.
[But… this isn't right. You—how could you find me so fast?]
Her voice cracked.
[You were so far away. And the Dream Realm—it doesn't let you just… appear where Sleepers are sent.]
She began to scoot back, just slightly.
But it said enough.
She was afraid.
Sunny frowned..
[The shadows told me.]
A pause.
[But it's not that simple, is it?]
She didn't reply.
He took a step forward, letting his presence touch her like mist on skin.
[I command them.]
Another pause.
[The shadows.]
His voice deepened, became less thought and more force.
[They revere me. They obey.]
Cassie's head tilted slightly—like she could hear something behind the words.
[They are mine.]
Another step.
[And so, when I asked them where you were…]
A breath.
[They answered.]
Now he stood right in front of her.
Cassie's breathing had quickened.
Her fingers gripped the edges of her cloak.
She wanted to believe him. She did.
But something about him felt… wrong.
Not dark. Not cruel. Just not entirely human.
And Sunny knew it.
So he stopped.
And this time, he used no power.
No memory. No enhancement.
Just his voice.
"I am the Lightless Heir. Sovereign Sunless.
He who transcended transcendence.
The Divine Heir of Death."
The words hung in the air, heavy as tombstones.
The shadows coiled and hissed. They protested.
Their god was lowering himself—for a blind, broken girl.
But Sunny ignored them.
He knelt.
Slowly. Purposefully.
His knee touched the sand. His eyes leveled with hers.
And he said, softly—
"Cassie… above all those titles, I'm someone who cares for you."
Cassie's lips trembled.
She couldn't see him—but she could feel the truth in his voice.
It clung to his words like smoke to fire.
"I'm deceitful, Cass."
A half-smile tugged at his mouth.
"I always have been. But even deceivers… tell the truth, when it matters."
He drew a breath, rough in his chest.
"I'm nothing, if not the most honest man in two worlds."
Then—he reached out.
Open palm. smooth porcelain fingers. Still.
"So take my hand. And believe me when I say—"
Another breath. This one softer.
"I will get you to safety."
Cassie didn't move. Not yet.
But she leaned forward. Just slightly.
The surrounding shadows began to settle. As if holding their breath.
And for the first time since she had been cast into this nightmare…
Cassie looked like she might believe in something again.
Her hand trembled as it met his.
Fingers brushed against fingers, hesitant… then curled tight.
Her voice came rough, cracked, low.
"Sure, Sunny."
Sunny nodded, gently tightening his grip in return.
After a breath, he raised that same hand to her face.
Cassie flinched.
Not from fear, but the reflex of someone unused to being touched.
She didn't pull away.
He brushed away the tears that still clung to her skin, like dew that refused to dry.
Then, she asked—quietly, with that same poised calm that hid the storm beneath:
"But… aren't you gonna explain?"
Sunny raised a brow.
"Explain what?"
Her head tilted slightly, just enough to turn toward his voice.
"What you said. About… transcending transcendence."
There it was again. That soft edge of disbelief, pressed beneath her composed words.
A ripple in the calm.
Sunny let out a slow breath, scratching his chin with a gloved hand.
"Ah. That."
His tone was casual. Too casual.
"Well… I'd prefer to save the story for when we're with the others. But if you want the rundown—"
A pause. A grin.
"I killed myself.
And became Supreme."
Cassie's mouth dropped open. A silent gasp. Shock radiating from her expression even though her eyes could not show it.
"Sunny, wh—"
She didn't get to finish.
Sunny raised a hand—gentle, firm.
"Stop. Really. I don't want to explain this three times."
Cassie paused, her brows furrowing slightly.
"What others?"
Sunny's grin widened.
"Nephis of the Immortal Flame Clan.
And Caster of Han-Li."
Cassie blinked, lips parting.
"They're here?"
"Nearby," Sunny confirmed. "Close enough that I can feel them."
"How do you know that?"
She wasn't accusing him. Just curious.
Sunny's smile softened, his voice lowering just a touch.
"The shadows told me."
He shifted slightly,
Then he turned back toward her.
"Oh… and Cassie."
She stiffened, only slightly.
"What?"
Sunny stepped closer.
Then, without warning—but with all the gentleness he could muster—he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Cassie froze.
Not in fear.
But because it was so sudden and unprovoked.
Sunny leaned in.
His breath close to her ear.
"Hold tight…. and don't trust the Han-Li bastard."
And before she could reply, the world folded around them—
The shadows surged, closed, swallowed.
And the two of them were gone.
---
Nephis stood alone atop a jagged island, where the stone met the sea like shattered bone.
Before her: the vast and unfeeling black.
The Dark Sea churned, silent but ceaseless, as if daring her to try. To cross. To vanish.
Above, the sky offered no stars—no constellations to read.
Only the endless dark.
She had been inspecting her arsenal, methodically.
She was calm. Focused. Still partially submerged in her soul sea.
She did not notice the boy behind her.
Caster was already there. Already in motion.
His eyes were cold. Focused. Hands steady.
The stiletto in his grip shimmered with sharp intent, carved of his clan's best memories—silent, swift, lethal.
Everything was perfect.
He was veiled in layers of Memories. One cloaking his presence like smoke. Another hastening his approach..
Nephis never turned.
He crept across the protruding rocks like a shadow shaped into a boy. Careful not to displace a pebble. Not to disturb a single grain of sand.
His breath shallow. His heartbeat steady.
Just a few steps now.
'This is it.'
She was still. Not tense, not wary. Meditating, perhaps. Searching within.
'One strike.'
That's all it would take. One clean cut.
He imagined the recognition. The praise. The way his father might finally look at him without disappointment dulling his eyes.
He brought the stiletto higher. Lined it with her exposed neck.
Held his breath.
And—
Began to drive it down.
A whisper of motion. A flick of death.
Until—
"CEASE!"
The word did not echo.
It consumed the space.
It didn't sound like a voice. It sounded like a law being written into the marrow of the world.
Caster froze.
Not out of choice.
His muscles refused to obey him.
He tried to move—tried to finish the strike—but his body had already betrayed him.
Every nerve was a string tied to a god's hand.
His eyes widened.
'W-What is this?'
In front of him, Nephis stirred.
She didn't panic. She didn't scream.
She moved.
In a single breath, she was no longer meditating.
The moment the stiletto's intent flared, her instincts ignited. She slipped away like light escaping a shutter, leaving Caster behind in stunned stillness.
And before he could reclaim control—
"KNEEL."
That voice again. Thunder without storm. Command without question.
Caster clenched his jaw.
'No.'
He was a legacy. A prince. He knelt for the King. For his father. For no other.
And yet—
His knees buckled.
He resisted with everything he had. Every ounce of pride. Every flame of defiance.
And still, his body betrayed him.
Thud.
His knees hit the stone.
His breath shuddered.
Eyes wide with horror, shame, confusion.
It wasn't the voice of a man.
It was the decree of something older. Something Sovereign.
Caster's breath came shallow.
His hands twitched at his sides, though the rest of him remained locked in place—paralyzed by decree, or fear, or something in between.
Slowly, his eyes darted about the ruined coastline, hunting for the source of that impossible voice. The one that had commanded the world itself to halt.
Then he saw it.
Not far from where Nephis now stood—ready, silent, watching—there was a figure. He emerged from behind a crooked stone, not stepping so much as appearing, like the darkness itself had drawn him into shape.
Porcelain skin. Raven-black hair. Taller than most. Beautiful. Beautiful like a sword freshly forged.
His eyes were darker than the sea—too deep to reflect the sky.
And beside him stood a girl, draped in shadow, her gaze blind and faraway. Unseeing, yet knowing.
Caster's chest tightened.
The man moved forward, casual as dawn, like this was just another walk in the dark.
He bowed his head slightly to Nephis, elegant, precise. A gesture of civility.
"Lady Nephis."
Nephis answered with a slight nod—nothing more. But in that motion was respect. Recognition.
Then she spoke.
And the words—
The words shattered something inside Caster.
Words that couldn't be real. Shouldn't be spoken.
Words his clan would never believe. That he would have laughed at just moments ago.
And yet—
"Sovereign Sunless. Thank you."
Silence.
The waves no longer mattered. The dark sky had never felt so suffocating.
Sovereign.
His mind reeled.
There are only three Sovereigns.
And yet…
A fourth one.
He felt sick.
And then—
That thing that made his pulse skip a beat. That made his bones feel hollow.
The Sovereign looked at him.
And smiled.
Not warmly. Not cruelly.
Just… smiled.
Like someone greeting an insect they hadn't yet decided to crush.
"Caster of the Han-Li clan," the man said, as if reading it off a gravestone.
"Would you like to explain what you were just attempting to do… to the person I have sworn to protect?"
The smile never wavered. The voice was soft. Gentle.
But each word landed like a verdict.
Caster gulped. Loud. Obvious.
The Sovereign waited.
He raised a brow. Tilted his head slightly.
"No?" he offered helpfully. "Need a moment to rehearse? Or do you usually go blank when caught mid-murder?"
Caster stammered, "I didn't… I didn't know—"
"Ah. Classic defense." Sunny snapped his fingers.
"I didn't know she was important. You know, it's funny—people say ignorance is bliss, but here you are, having a nervous breakdown."
Caster's face drained of color.
Sunny took a lazy step forward. Not threatening—just closer.
"Look," Sunny said softly, almost conversationally, "if this was just a misunderstanding…"
He gestured lazily toward the stiletto still trembling in Caster's grip,
"…then I'm sure we can talk this out."
A small, dry chuckle followed, like wind through dead branches.
"But first…" his eyes flicked down, "…I'll need assurance."
Caster swallowed thickly, finally managing to speak through the tension strangling his voice.
"What kind of assurance?"
Sunny didn't answer.
Instead, he turned his gaze—not to Caster, but beneath him.
To his shadow.
The formless smear of darkness on the rock—just blackness, formless and silent… until it moved.
It rippled like disturbed water, twitching slightly in acknowledgment.
It was listening.
Sunny's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to.
"You," he said, addressing the darkness like an old friend.
His finger pointed to the shadow without hesitation.
"If he lifts that blade—or any blade—against her, or Cassie, or anyone else I care about…"
A pause.
He glanced once at Caster, his eyes dull and flat.
Then back to the shadow.
"…kill him."
The shadow bowed.
Caster stared in stunned horror as his own shadow obeyed.
His legs wobbled. Cold sweat traced his spine.
His shadow—the thing that had always been an extension of him—had just declared its loyalty to someone else.
And that someone had spoken to it like a god.
Sunny turned away, as if the matter was settled.
But then he stopped, his back still to Caster.
His voice returned—lower now. He didn't sound amused anymore. He sounded tired. Cold.
"Give him a taste."
The shadow stirred once more.
And Caster screamed.
Not because of a blade. Not because of fire.
But because a part of him was taken.
The shadow pulled—gently, precisely—ripping away a sliver of his soul as if slicing skin from bone.
Then it returned. Seamlessly.
No blood. No wound.
But the pain—
The pain was real.
It wasn't just physical. It was something deeper, something wrong.
As if his entire being had been unstitched and sewn back crooked.
His knees hit the stone. His fingers scraped against it until blood ran beneath his nails.
The scream tore from him raw and choking. His breath came in sharp, wet gasps.
And just like that, it was over.
The agony subsided, but it left behind silence, trembling, and a weight in his chest that wouldn't lift.
Sunny didn't speak again.
He didn't need to.