Cass collapsed to the ground. He coughed and spat blood across the dirt path beneath him.
W-What the hell!? His family actually did it!? They couldn't even wait for the week to be over!?
He hated the idea of living in Ravenrock. However, he at least hoped to travel and see the world a bit before being killed off.
"You…bastard! I still have time!"
He had wanted to come up with something more menacing, but breathing was painful and it was tough to think straight.
Cadeyrn sat back on the rock he used for his lookout and sighed.
"It's not that, Cass. I'm not trying to get rid of you."
"What?"
"You've missed a lot of lessons, but even still, I'm sure you've heard father's number one rule."
Is he seriously trying to turn killing me into a teaching moment?
"Blessings can be temperamental, that's for sure. But the advantages and disadvantages, perks and detriments that come with it… those can make or break a Blessed. Letting people know your advantages, and especially disadvantages, can put you in serious danger."
Cass heard the words, but his mind wasn't really registering them. All he could think about was how to kill his betrayer. Of course, even in his frenzied state, Cass knew it was impossible. Even if he was fully healed, his hunting knife wouldn't even scratch his brother's skin. He could stick the mana rifle down his throat and fire until it's empty to no avail. Blessed were truly terrifying, and Cadeyrn was a monster among them. He'd been blessed longer than Cass had been alive. In short, there was no hope.
"I'm going to break father's rule. I want you to know, at least. My blessing, "Paladin", boosts all physical and magical abilities substantially. It has many other benefits as well, but that's not the issue."
He's really doing it. He's sitting there bragging about how great his blessing is while I'm here bleeding out on the ground. I'll kill him.
"It's my disadvantage that's the issue: You must cleanse your sin in the blood of the one you love most. That's the gist of it. I ignored it for the longest time, but my powers have been stagnating for the past few years. With the demon armies' more frequent attacks and the fog beasts' strength increasing…well, I have to get stronger, Cass."
Stronger? How much stronger did this freak need to be? I would've been happy with a modest blessing and this bastard wants to get stronger? See, fog? Look how ungrateful these fools are.
Cass wanted to mock and deride him, but he was unable to speak now. He wasn't sure what went through most people's heads when they died: the intense desire to survive? Friends and loved ones? Ah, there was Misha. She was floating around in his head somewhere. But she was adrift in a raging sea of blind hatred. It was all consuming. All he wanted was to make Cadeyrn pay, to suffer as much as possible. At least he thought so. It was so blinding, that he really didn't care who received the brunt of his fury. He crushed a clump of dirt under his hand to try and regain some semblance of composure.
"So you see, Cass. I don't resent you or hate you; nor do I want you to disappear. It's the exact opposite. I love you more than anyone. That's why you have to die. Don't worry, I'll tell everyone you entered your trial and succeeded, all in one day. Unfortunately, that massive beast I killed earlier ambushed you on the way back. You died valiantly facing it. An honorable death."
He's insane.
Even if Cass believed him, what he was saying was nuts.
Love me? You're watching me bleed out…drown in my own blood! Don't I at least deserve a quick death?
Cass couldn't finish his thought. The rage remained but his senses had dulled so much that he couldn't really perceive it or his surroundings very well. He felt a hand stroking his hair and then heard footsteps moving away from him. All that remained of the world was the rustling of trees and howling wind. An ethereal wall of white, billowing fog drifted closer as everything faded to black.
Suddenly, waking from a dreamless sleep, Cass realized he could perceive his own existence again.
Please, no! Don't tell me you perceive death!
After calming from his existential dread, he noticed a strong antiseptic smell.
Ah, and that damn beeping!
It echoed through his skull with each chirp. After several minutes, Cass finally realized he could open his eyes.
A hospital room?
It was dimly lit. Sunlight streamed through drawn curtains as they fluttered in the breeze.
Wait, wasn't I dead?
He didn't feel very dead. He looked down at his chest. A scar marred his otherwise perfectly porcelain skin.
Tch, such a tiny mark killed me? No wait, almost killed me?
He wasn't sure. Was he in the afterlife? It certainly didn't feel like the afterlife. A quaint hospital room? There weren't even any gorgeous nurses to greet him when he awoke. Surely for all he'd been through he would have gotten at least one. And how did he get here? Did one of his siblings stumble across his body and take pity on him? He wouldn't figure it out just sitting here. He got up, tested his stability and headed for the door of his tiny room.
Two weeks later, Cass was marching down a mountain towards a long and winding valley. Light snow covered the ground and the trees around him, painting a deceptively peaceful scene. Far to the north, nestled against the mountain range, was a sizable facility. What appeared to be large satellite dishes and massive towers were scattered around the complex. The towers' apex were glowing white and had a series of gigantic spinning rings hovering around them. Cass stopped for a second to take it in. The fact that he could see so far was already blowing his mind. He was so used to the ever present fog.
"Don't worry. We aren't going all the way to the observation facility, son. The outpost is down in the valley below."
Captain Stanev patted his shoulder. His concern wasn't necessary. Cass had fully recovered, much to his surprise. By now he knew why and how he made it all the way to the hospital.
The fog had finally got off its lazy ass and did it!
Cass was in his trial. Well, his soul was. His body was encased in the fog, back on his family's land. It explained why he had recovered so quickly. It also explained how he had awakened hundreds of miles away in the northern territories, 5 years in the past. The trial almost always encompassed the whole planet and could exist during any time in the past or present. Well, a recreation of the planet to be exact. Nothing actually changed in the real world as a result of the trial, other than the person receiving their blessing. You could wind up anywhere at the start of your trial. Cass had always dreaded starting in space and dying instantly, though there were no known cases of such things. Not that they'd live to tell about it.
"Look alive, boys! We're less than 2 miles out from camp!"
Captain Stanev was a tall and chiseled man with a neatly trimmed beard. His light brown hair was usually in a perfect side part, but was currently matted down by his helmet. Determination and authority radiated from his grey eyes. Despite the signs of wear and age on his face, the nurses at the hospital couldn't resist flirting with him.
Lucky bastard.
Cass had to admit that the man was competent. He had already led their troop through some precarious situations without incident.
"How ya feelin', son? That heart of yours holdin' out?"
"Yes sir."
"Good! If you make me write a letter to your momma tellin' her you kicked the bucket, it'll be your ass!
"Understood, sir."
Jokes on you, they're probably still celebrating my "valiant death" right now. Cass's joke fell flat with himself. Remembering that day…the seething hatred bubbled to the surface.
"Relax, son. Don't let that anger cloud your judgement."
Damn, is my poker face that bad?.
"I've seen a buncha young guys fall victim to that. Think they're superheroes and run headlong into certain death. Even Blessed. Anyone who sets out to accomplish something great is gonna suffer. It's part of ambition. And what we're gonna accomplish is nothing short of legendary! Ridding the world of those demon bastards!"
A collective "Hell Yeah!" rang out through the troop.
Accomplish something? What did Cass have to show for all his suffering? He still wasn't Blessed. Entering a trial, you gain a taste of Blessed power. That's probably how he managed to survive. But it was far from an equal exchange given what he'd been through. He had lost his home; what little sense of dignity that his family hadn't stripped from him; his life, almost; and worst of all, he had lost Misha.
No, it's worse than that. The person I respected the most STOLE her from me. On top of that, he stabbed me in the back. Well…the front, technically. How noble of him.
His brother was a 2nd tier Blessed, one rank below the highest. Even though Cass's current troop had 4 Blessed including Captain Stanev, he was confident that Cadeyrn could wipe them out with no effort. So the faux valor of facing Cass as he plunged his sword into his chest didn't impress him in the slightest.
"Cass!"
A grating voice snapped him out of his seething.
"What is it, Ayman? I'm not carrying anything else for you."
"N-no! I'm good now, Cass. I can take my pack back. Thanks!"
Cass let the pack down as Ayman, lacking any grace, slumped it onto his back.
Cass was surprised by how annoyed his voice had sounded. He wasn't mad at Ayman, the timing was just…not the best. After all, Ayman was a normal human and small to boot. His short, stubby body waddled under the weight of the pack. Cass was sure he would have been struggling too, if not for the partial blessing he'd received. Ayman huffed and puffed as he continued to march. His curly black hair and tan skin were peppered with bits of snow, but his dark eyes were full of…well, "determination" would be charitable.
"Eyes up, boys."
Captain Stanev sounded stern. As Cass turned his gaze forward he noticed two crimson eyes shimmering in the distance. Cass's heart skipped a beat.
A demon.