Interconnected: Spliced Souls

“Is there anything you need? Cue and I are about to resign for the night.” Saline held her beloved canine companion in her soft arms close to her chest. A silky nightgown clasped her delicate body that still bore faint scars from abuse better left in the past.    

“Stop worrying about me and focus on yourself,” replied Cassidy, smoking her umpteenth cigarette of the night. She flicked the ash in a tray on her dresser. “You need your rest more than me.”   

“But you—”   

“Go to sleep, Saline. I’m fine. You’re escorting Servi and Momo, so be concerned with that.”   

“…Okay…” The brown-skinned elf pouted before smiling. Most would consider her too old to be scolded like a child, but Saline didn’t mind it. She wasn’t what she thought of when the concept of an ‘adult’ came to her mind. She even thought her parents were right— she had married too early to the first man who showed her how an ounce of love, and what good did that do her?   

Nothing, except it almost cost the elf her life.   

Saline knew this was her second chance. You rarely got an opportunity to start over. The elf wanted to make the best of it. Cassidy knew that, so she took her in when she returned to Arcton instead of sending an unprepared woman to Adenaford.   

The heavens above knew a do-over wouldn’t ever grace Cassidy because she didn't deserve one.     

The old apothecary waited until the elf closed the door before dropping to one knee. She clutched her heart and groaned, silently screaming while praying the nicotine would help alleviate the agony throbbing behind her heart.    

The pain was always there, but it had only grown in intensity over the last few weeks. Her end was probably near. The device she had implanted behind her sternum was draining her vitality by the day, but how much longer would it hold out?    

“How long has it been since we’ve last spoke?” The sudden raspy voice didn’t startle her. Its owner was someone she had known for many years—and the only one who knew her true identity. She turned to the balcony and spotted a miniature golem that looked like a toy. Its dusty wings were more than enough for flight, and a sapphire communication crystal was embedded in its head.     

“Why are you…asking me, Sakdu?” Cassidy forced herself to stand straight. She coughed and pounded her chest, spitting out a wad of blackened blood across her wooden floor.    

“Why would I not ensure you still harbor a sound mind?”    

“Is that all?” She watched as the toy flew to her bed and perched on the headboard.    

“Has the target arrived? Have you received your new orders?”   

“Yes… I’ve read your letters.” She was reluctant to answer, but fear made her find her voice and forced her hand. There was little that startled a woman like Cassidy, and this speaker gave nightmares to nightmares. “You had to use our first cipher, didn’t you?”   

“Doesn’t it seem apt for the moment? What do you think?”   

“That there’s only one reason why you’ve sent the excommunicated girl from the Wytchguard Covenant and her guardians.”   

“We cannot take any chances against a lich," continued the voice. "That thing deserves to suffer. It has taken our greatest revenge from us, and we shall take what it values the most.”   

Cassidy winced, but it wasn’t from the pain. “Do you think the witch can do it?”   

“Of course. The girl may no longer be a member, but she’s our best assassin for the undead. Those three have unparalleled track records in tasks like these. They learn everything about their target and thoroughly test their skills before acting.”   

“…”   

“I have heard murmurs. The crown knows the Kaisaku Syndicate is planning something.”   

“… I see. Will that be a problem?”   

“No. They aren’t aware of any details. The country’s fated to erupt into civil war within the next few years. The king is nothing but a figurehead. The endless bickering amongst his council and the opposing nobles will be their undoing. But there has been a change...I’m accelerating and altering the plan…”   

Cassidy was glad the golem didn’t transmit vision because her jaw dropped. “Are you mad? Are you willing to go that far as to hire two necromancers?!”   

“Surely, you’re not calling me the mad one. Can’t you remember? We both went down that road together many moons ago. We no longer have the right to say that after the monsters we’ve become. How many have died in our plight? How many have we tortured to get revenge on the one we hate the most? Are you not upset that it has been taken from us?! By a disgusting lich at that? One who cannot even begin to guess what all we have sacrificed to get this far?”   

“Answer me this. Where did you find...?”   

“The geomancer introduced them to me. The two have been working for months on further honing their abilities. The geomancer wishes to better themselves as a golem sculptor, and the other two undead manipulators desire to study the power of a soul when it’s implanted into a non-living host crafted by a forbidden skill. They readily accepted my offer and leapt at the chance to turn the City of Unpleasantness into a den of death and sacrifice to fuel their dark arts.”   

“…”   

“I cannot see your expression, but it disappoints me, Cassidy. You were always the one who chastised me that we were too lenient. You always demanded more subjects—more victims to further test your prowess. The second generation of monotonia, phrine, is being tested. The results are outstanding as always. The chosen lab rats will not be missed, and their souls are...being put to great use.”   

“What will you do after this?”   

“I plan to die.” She didn’t expect an honest response. “The reaper we hate is dead. The best thing I can do is torture his killer and burn Canary to the ground. And once that is done? I’ll end my life. There’s no place left for the broken-- for the ones who have unleashed a terrible evil upon the world. But I don’t regret it. I can’t. Not at this point. The syndicate has grown too powerful, and I cannot dictate how its power will be directed once I perish. Let it be known that this is my final gift upon this cruel, unjust world, and let the chaos begin in Arcton. If it is destined to be stopped by Vexor Blackscale or anyone else, then so be it. Let an army rise together and strike the syndicate down, but it matters not once that woman and her daughters have lost their lives and that lich has faced its final death.”   

The golem toy flapped its wings. The soul stuffed inside was probably about to regain its individuality, but the paradoxical connection between it and the body ensured its eventual demise.    

Was it human?   

Kobold?   

Dogkin?   

Singi?   

“Before you go… Give me a time. How long… How many days…” Cassidy listened…and knew the end was arriving before the week’s end.     

Arcton…was about to fall. Tens of thousands would perish because an undead lich masquerading as a human saw fit to listen to the king’s most trusted man—one who would throw her away without a second notice if it meant achieving progression.   

The whole purpose was to give the lich a decision.    

Save the city or save the girl she obviously cared for? What heart-wrenching choice would she make?   

Either way, Servi’s death was inevitable. A master of killing the undead had wormed her way into her friend group. That witch was probably already devising a dozen counter-plans and brainstorming additional ways to test the lich’s mettle.   

But did she know that one of her guardians was close to her sworn enemies? Witches of the Wytchguard Covenant and necromancers went together like water splashed on an oil fire.    

The golem flew away and presumably crumbled once the ego and body reached a paradoxical conclusion.     

Cassidy blinked, and her bedroom was replaced by a sight she hadn’t seen in decades.    

How many years had slipped away since she last conjured the image of her late husband? His features blurred like a distant memory, a face too pure for one stained and marred by the brutality of her life since his untimely passing. A yearning for selfishness tugged at her, a desire to revisit the house he had crafted with hands that once vowed eternal love to her.   

In her recollections, the little garden near the front yawn of their home flourished with rare herbs and flowers.   

Villagers from surrounding hamlets sought solace in her medicinal wonders.   

"Back then..." Cassidy's voice quivered, and her hand instinctively reached for the front door, even though she knew it wasn't there. Yet, the phantom sensation of the rough knob lingered, a spectral echo of the past. In her mind's eye, she traced the initials of her children etched at the bottom, and with a phantom turn, she felt the subtle resistance—a familiar imperfection, a wrong screw chosen by her husband, a detail that time failed to correct.    

“It…happened...like this…” Cassidy wasn’t sure if she was speaking. She opened the door slowly, and there they were—her beautiful children.    

The three of them always welcomed her home with hugs and smiles.    

Cassidy reached out to touch them, but a phantom arm wrapped around her stomach. She smiled and looked up, seeing nothing, but her delusional episode made her perceive her beautiful, handsome husband.     

He was a flesh and blood human.    

Suddenly, Cassidy looked at her bare arms, but she didn’t see skin.    

No.   

She saw scales…because she wasn’t human.    

She had never been human.    

“Errgh…” Cassidy’s breath became caught deep in her throat. Flames surrounded her—but they weren't real. Yet they felt as hot as ever. They spread to the symbol of her husband’s love and inflamed the walls. The drawings and portraits…the handmade silverware and toys…   

Everything she had ever loved went up in smoke, and the haze took the form of Lando’s most feared reaper. Even in death…he never left her mind. Cassidy screamed, but she was silent. Her pleads never once reached his ears, but the demon had already vowed to never hear the words of a non-human.     

The ominous figure raised a sword and killed her children in cold blood.    

Each cut of the shadowy blade sent crimson splashing across the scene, covering her face in blood for the umpteenth time.   

It was a nightmare. But it was one Cassidy couldn’t escape from.     

No—that wasn’t true. She could. She needed to rejuvenate the stark hatred that set her on the path of becoming a monster.    

That criminal’s taunts slowly became all she could hear as she turned to her bed. Cassidy fought against the madness and clawed over, reaching deep under to grab a metal box. She forced it open and gasped upon seeing the accumulated prismatic dust.    

When that demon in human skin had burned the village and killed everyone, he skinned the corpses and threw away the scales. But Cassidy never left them behind. She painstakingly collected them once the flames had faded to remind her what she had lost. But without blood giving them life and nutrients, they became brittle. Time had long since reduced them to dull dust. Never again would her children’s scales luster in the shiny moonlight like sparkling diamonds.   

“…”   

Cassidy remained silent. The vision she had experienced had long since ended, yet the shadowy reaper remained in the corner of her vision-- forever taunting her with his crimes.  She touched her chest and whispered a specific command, causing the enchanted item behind her heart to cease operation.    

Gradually, her wrinkled skin disappeared and revealed splotches of dried blood patches from where her scales had used to be.    

Yes.    

Cassidy was born a koena. Yet she lived as a human. A koena was supposed to lose feeling in the spot where they broke a scale—deadspots, they were called— but Cassidy was different. She had retained all senses, and without a koena’s natural shield, she felt a thousand needles stinging her at every waking second.  It was pure agony. Drugs were the only way to make it manageable. Nicotine worked well, but alcohol diluted the pain just as much.    

Yet it was never enough.    

It was never, ever enough.  “Hell…is the only place for me,” she whispered, picking up a handful of scale dust. Hatred refueled her heart as the sand-like consistency slipped through her fingers.     

“I’ll…never see you again. Never… I wish I’d been a better mother. And a better wife. And maybe… I’d have the courage to die with you... But I’m a coward. And I’ve…brought a sickening curse upon Inith.”   

Cassidy remained like that. She knew her time was coming, and she touched every spec of scale dust. They were once her reason to live, but the aged scales were her reason to hate.   

She was too far gone to turn around. Nothing she could do could change what would happen in a few days. Sakdu had too much power and influence.    

So… Cassidy…decided to do what she did. Why change her behavior when it didn’t matter? She just needed to continue playing the role she had carved for her, and then she would be free until her sins had finally caught up and ended her life.   

That would happen within the year. Perhaps even sooner.    

With the city nearing its end, did it matter if she continued focusing on healing the less fortunate?   

A little bit of good couldn't erase a dozen lifetimes of evil brought upon by the purest hatred against one man and his family.   

And if that ‘good’ was masked by a longing desire to nurture the next generation of that evil?   

Cassidy was a slave to her hatred. Nearly every ounce of ‘good’ had been to further serve her selfish desires. And perhaps this could’ve been avoided had she listened to her husband’s spectral voice and followed his soul into the light.    

But hatred had drowned his loving tone, making it indecipherable. And without that man to become its target, she had redirected it to his killer.    

Cassidy had thought she’d feel complete once the news had reached her, but she flew into a quiet wrath. Even now? It took all she had to remain calm while within the lich’s presence.    

But why? She knew her hatred was misplaced. The lich didn’t know just how much terror that awful man had brought her, but the differing parts creating her psyche didn’t care.    

Cassidy needed a target for her anger. Her whole existence was made of hatred. The pursuit of revenge had turned her into a more frightening monster than Fisher Jin had ever been. 

But she needed a target, and the choice was obvious.     

So…   

What was Cassidy to do now that the end of her life was rapidly approaching?   

The noose in her closet was always an option, but none of this would’ve happened if she had enough strength to end her life years ago.    

Or she could admit the truth to Servi—that she knew about Lucy being mind-controlled by Viridian’s underling necromancer because she was using her to test phrine’s first incarnation. That would rile her up and make her turn to murder.    

Or would it?   

Cassidy had tried and failed to do this before. After the raid on the monotonia dens, a man went out of control and killed multiple people. In a false drunken stupor, Cassidy had blamed the deaths on Servi and held her responsible, yet that anger…   

The wrath just never came from that overall-wearing girl.    

Just why hadn’t she taken her life then and there?!    

That was something Cassidy would never understand.    

But even if she tried that route once more and admitted the whole truth, Servi would undoubtedly go after the girl from the Wytchguard Covenant. But she’d meet her death.    

Those three were always ready. They had plans on top of plans, which was why their success rate was so high. And then Sakdu’s spies littered the city with hidden communication crystals. Just one report would trigger the dormant necromancers and kickstart the end.    

Cassidy approached the situation from all angles, and it all seemed useless. She had made her bed—and it was time to sleep in it. This was what a life of hatred had gotten her, and regret at this point meant the lives she’d stolen and ruined would’ve been wasted.     

Cassidy was a tortured soul who did not deserve empathy. She knew she had multiple chances to make things right, and her cowardice…   

It was coming back to bite her in the ass. Scores of more innocent victims would continue to die for actions begat by her past.     

If any luck…   

Maybe she’d die in the forthcoming attack? Or would her weakening heart sense its holder’s feelings and stop beating before the week’s end?   

But maybe…   

Just maybe…   

There was one thing she could do…   

She wasn’t a stranger to love—there was only one reason why Momo would look at Servi like that. And sure, Cassidy could take advantage and put Servi in a kill-or-be-killed situation, but was there enough time?    

That was the critical factor because something needed to be done—a mere insignificant act that would result in a particular elf and her dog hating Cassidy’s guts until the end of time—but it would result in their survival.     

Their story would continue based on a little white lie told by the one woman they trusted as much as Servi.     

That was the most a sin-stained monster like Cassidy could ask for, and at that point, she could accelerate the inevitable. She knew how vicious Sakdu’s army could be. She had witnessed the true terror of a necromancer’s might long ago.    

No one here could survive it.    

A lich like Servi couldn't hope to endure it, let alone fight it off.   

Did it matter how she looked at her options because all roads led to Arcton's and Canary’s total destruction? They were too far from Adenaford, and the constant bickering would slow any response until it was too late.     

Until then, however, she would have to act as if everything was okay—that the city didn’t have a dwindling countdown to its doom that was fast approaching.     

“No…” whispered the false human as an idea came to her mind's forefront. It wouldn’t prevent the forthcoming destruction—she believed that was set in stone—but a dozen or so more lives scheduled for sacrifice could be averted.    

But she had to act. It would take a day or two for her to lay the groundwork. Cassidy regained her vigor, readied the device behind her heart, and found a new pack of smokes in her dresser. She left her room, descended the stairs, and departed her shop, not returning until just before dawn after making the necessary arrangements for the rest of the week.   

But this moment didn't abscond her. Her past was filled with more sins than virtues, yet no one knew it more than her. Cassidy wasn't looking for redemption. She was a hypocrite, so she knew what awaited her at her life's end. What she had planned wouldn't make up for spreading a terrible poison across Inith.