Chapter 59: Chapter 59: Dorian Desdemona
Chapter 59 – Dorian Desdemona
’What in the Queen’s name did I do again?’ Cassius thought, his mind travelling back through everything that had happened since their departure, searching for something that could explain his wife’s reaction.
He found nothing. He hadn’t even had enough time to do anything bad.
[Now, my dear Blessed, why are you not counting your little reckless adventure that nearly turned your flesh and bones to ash?] Ananke finally spoke, and her tone made it plain she was not pleased.
The Queen of Fate had chosen to trust Cassius because he carried knowledge of future events and would prepare for them accordingly.
She knew better than anyone that knowing about something didn’t mean surviving it safely.
But she had faith in him. Yet the recent events had shown her clearly that faith didn’t mean blindly indulging his plans regardless of his knowledge.
She had been genuinely afraid, watching from her Gate as he nearly died.
She could have intervened — at great cost to her GeumGeum — but it would have been detrimental to them both in the long run.
She still hadn’t fully recovered her reserve since blessing Cassius. And when reserves ran too low, the goddess could no longer watch over her Blessed until she replenished.
No god was foolish enough to allow that.
So it was no wonder the Queen of Fate was irritated.
Cassius could feel it perfectly. And coupled with the searing anger of Isolde booming through his phone, his eye twitched.
He sighed inwardly. ’I am sorry, Queen. I thought I was prepared enough.’
[You are Mortal Self rank with not a single artifact above Tier Six. Even your Tier Five potions are scarce. Is that what you call being prepared? Or do you believe that knowing what will happen makes you miraculously ready to survive it?]
Cassius had no answer. And as if Ananke alone wasn’t enough...
"I am talking to you, Cassius!" Isolde shouted in his ear. "Where are you?"
Beside him, Océane and Horus both heard every word of it. Each quietly turned their head to the other side, as though the squalid underground walls had suddenly become deeply interesting to look at.
He rolled his eyes at them.
"I am in quite a strange place, darling." Cassius answered, doing his best to sound unbothered. "Miss me already?"
Hearing his usual voice, Isolde relaxed slightly, knowing he was truly alive, and her tone came down a fraction. "Cassius. This is important. More important than you think. I know you’ve been in the Outskirts but are you still there? Don’t ask me how I know. Just answer."
Cassius paused, genuinely surprised both by her knowledge and by the tightness in her voice.
After a couple of seconds, he answered. "I am."
"Tell me the location." Her voice was urgent, and he could hear her already giving orders to someone in the background. "I’ll be there as soon as possible."
Not knowing the exact location himself, he asked Horus quickly.
Then Isolde’s last question came through, her tone carrying something dangerous underneath it.
"You’re not hurt, are you?"
Cassius smiled at that question.
She knew. Somehow, Isolde knew.
"Nothing but a scratch." He said.
"Even one scratch on your body is one too many." She hissed, and a sound followed, like something being struck, and someone crying out in pain beside her. "Wait for me."
The call ended. Cassius sat with the phone in his hand, more confused than anything.
"Is everything alright, Young Master?" Océane asked carefully.
"I hope so." He answered, then turned back to Horus. "Either way, old man, we have an Oath to make. Regardless of what comes next."
"I am ready." Horus said.
Cassius nodded, and before beginning, sent a quiet word to his goddess.
’I’ll be more careful from now on. Alright?’
[...] Ananke scoffed loudly and deliberately, making sure he understood her dissatisfaction completely.
Cassius chuckled. ’I didn’t even die and you are already like this. What would you do if I actually died?’
He said it in a joking tone and immediately began the process.
"Mother System..." he started.
But the words sat inside Ananke’s mind and replayed themselves in a quiet, harrowing loop.
And the goddess had to admit it: she didn’t like at all what would happen if her Blessed died.
Because Cassius, at this point, was far more than just a Blessed to her.
He was her Storyteller and her Priest. Her Knight and Historian. Her Herald and the first pillar of her Faith.
Losing him was not a thought she would allow herself to entertain, because it opened a door of paranoia and fear that would consume her whole; and would make her begin restricting her Blessed in the name of protection, when in truth it would only ever be her own insecurity.
So she sealed that thought, closed the door of fear, and simply watched her Blessed bind a former Revolutionary Army soldier to himself as a subordinate.
The Queen of Fate shook her head and sighed, feeling the threads of fate shifting around them in ways she couldn’t yet read.
’How reckless.’
...
"How reckless of you, Dorian." Morgan said, her black shadowy eyes narrowed at her younger brother sitting in the throne-like chair at the head of a luxurious table inside the room.
The room was wide — pink and white — with nothing inside it but that single table and two chairs facing each other.
A sweet musk-like scent drifted through the air alongside something distinctly sexual, enough to nudge the hormones of anyone who stayed too long.
Except Morgan.
She clicked her tongue at her brother anyway.
Dorian simply smiled, a pipe of pink smoke at his lips, far more occupied with the massage being given to him by two beautiful women — lavender eyes and hair, identical twins — standing behind him.
He let out a slow, satisfied sigh, pink steam escaping his nose and mouth, his body visibly melting under their hands.
Dorian was tall, as all Desdemona tended to be, but without a single muscle on his frame. So lean his veins were fully visible beneath his skin, like small snakes always moving.
He was shirtless in black baggy trousers, a large crimson flaming tattoo across his chest making him look permanently ablaze.
His white hair was cut short. His eyes were strange — irises not white but deep black, with crimson pupils that pulsed continuously.
"Sister," Dorian said, his voice the soft whisper of an incubus as he dismissed the girls, "what are you doing in my precious Bliss’s House? I thought you hated this place."
"I do hate it." Morgan replied, sitting in the chair across from him. "But I heard you went to the Kurppe Kingdom for an inn opening." She continued. "So what are you doing here?"
"Don’t play the fool in front of me, sister. You know my Aspect." He grinned. "Who said I didn’t already go? And who said I’m not there at this very moment?"
"Since when has your Skill become this strong?"
"Since I decided to train and evolve it."
Morgan cocked her head. "You evolved it?" A hint of genuine surprise. "How did you learn the conditions? The System rarely gives them."
"What can I say? I’m just talented." He smiled, smoking leisurely. "Now tell me why you’re actually here, big sister. I’ve been told a special VIP wants to see me."
"To sleep with her?"
"Who said it’s a her?" Dorian raised an amused eyebrow.
"As if I don’t know you." She scoffed. "Just don’t cause us problems by showing your real face."
"You know I never show my real face to customers. And why do you assume I’ll sleep with them? I’m not a whore."
"You are worse." Morgan said. "And I am deeply relieved my precious Cass was never tainted by you."
Dorian’s lips twitched. "Don’t bring my pookie into this, alright? And tell me what you want, then get out of my brothel, sister."
Morgan snorted. "Stop calling Cass that, you bastard. And you know exactly why I’m here, Dorian." Her eyes narrowed. "Have you found out which Shadow Remnant I can take to replace my first Shadow?"
"I have, thanks to a VIP." Dorian answered, releasing thick plumes of pink smoke. "But I’m not sure you’ll be willing to take the risk, big sister."
Morgan paused at the sudden seriousness in his tone. She straightened, face hardening. "Tell me."
"You already know, don’t you?" He smiled with his excessively rosy lips. "You just want me to say it aloud so you can ease whatever guilt you might be carrying."
"Then say it and be done with it."
The second born of Desdemona shrugged. "The best Shadow Remnant for you, big sister, is someone of our own bloodline, because it connects to you more easily and strengthens you more profoundly. The bodies of our ancestors are never found, though. They disappear after death, always. However..." he cocked his head "...lucky you, there is still one family we are closely related to."
Morgan’s eyes darkened, shadows crept to the edges of the room. "You mean?"
Dorian grinned.
"Oh, you know exactly what I mean."
He let out pink steamy breath out his mouth.
"Are you ready for it?"
—End of Chapter 59—
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