Last Born Of The Des Chapter 66: Awareness of your actions

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Awareness of your actions

Chapter 66 – Awareness of your action

The broken carriage was burned away by Cassius, destroying any possible trace that could lead back to him and Océane.

Taking back their own luxurious carriage, the two of them reached the Desdemona Mansion without incident.

By the time Cassius passed through the door — guarded now by two different men from before — night had already fallen. The enormous house was bathed in blood-red light, painting a mesmerising picture from a distance.

Anyone looking down from the sky would have noticed that the red lights were positioned deliberately, arranged to form a demonic head, horns sharp from the skull, wide devilish smile stretched across it.

Walking along the T-shaped cobbled path, Cassius noticed a figure standing at the intersection where the path branched toward his parents’ house.

A tall man, silver hair braided into multiple locks and pulled back into a ponytail and black eyes with slitted animal-like pupils, belonging to something that wasn’t quite human. A silver monocle was on his left eye.

His full black suit and equally dark skin made him blend naturally with the shadows that clung to the corners of the house despite the red light all around.

’Jabbar. The household’s Butler.’ Cassius thought, just as the man’s gentle voice reached him.

Behind him, he felt Océane’s body go rigid, like a worm that had just noticed a very large snake.

"Young Heir." Jabbar said, dipping his head politely. "The masters have been worried about you. Your travel ran long."

"I can imagine." Cassius smiled faintly, stopping a couple of paces from him. "After my meeting with my wife I simply wanted time to gather myself. I am eighteen. And I am about to be married."

"That is a great deal to carry."

"Indeed."

"Still, why dismiss the Servants of Shadow?" He raised his head, those beastly eyes settling on Cassius’s red ones. "They are dead now, Young Heir, for leaving you unprotected."

"I ordered them to leave." Cassius said, frowning slightly. "It was not necessary to kill them."

"The Masters did not concern themselves with what was or was not necessary." Jabbar replied. "However, their families remain untouched, because you, Young Heir, wished it to be so."

Cassius was quiet for a moment. "Why are you telling me all of this, Jabbar?"

"Oh, nothing more than to inform you, Young Heir." He said, smiling without showing his teeth, eyes narrowing into horizontal slits. "Actions taken without awareness are a dangerous thing."

He continued, his tone measured and unhurried. "The value of life may be cheap in this world, especially in this family. But there is rarely anything worse than discarding those lives with no thought, or without even being aware it is happening."

"The Desdemona do not condemn slaughter. But only when one is aware of the consequences and chooses it regardless, that is what makes this bloodline what it is. Not reckless decisions that produce unforeseen events no one wished to inherit. Three families lost someone close because of a passing decision of yours, Young Heir."

His smile remained polite, considerate. "And I was the one who carried it out."

Cassius fell silent, understanding. This man, of the Tuculur Tribe from the Wastelands of Dukji, only spoke what his parents had given him leave to say.

’So this is them teaching me.’ He guessed. He closed his eyes softly, letting the weight of the words settle.

Seeing it, Jabbar’s smile widened for a fraction of a second, showing a row of sharp teeth like those of a snake.

’Interesting.’

[A valuable thing to learn.] Ananke said quietly, choosing to guide her Blessed rather than stay silent. [You must understand how your actions — meaningless to you — can determine the lives of many. You are a Desdemona, Cassius. Your Fate is strong enough to influence lesser ones. Act with awareness in every decision you make.]

Cassius nodded, then genuinely smiled, thankful to both Ananke and Jabbar.

"I will remember this lesson."

"That is all my masters ask." The Butler gave a small bow, then his voice turned just slightly playful. "I will let you rest now, Young Heir. Tomorrow the Matriarch will no doubt want to hear about your time with Lady Isolde." He paused with a smile. "It is certainly not the Lord who wishes to hear every detail for research purposes."

Not fully catching the joke but appreciating the delivery, Cassius nodded and resumed walking toward his own little mansion.

"I have things to discuss with them too. I’ll see them tomorrow. Thank you, Jabbar. Good night." He grinned as he passed by, Océane quietly trailing behind him. "If you sleep, that is. I’ve heard your tribe doesn’t."

Jabbar let out a short chuckle. "Well done, Young Heir. The Second Heir has certainly left a mark on you."

"Oh my." Cassius laughed, already moving away. "Don’t let big sister Morgan hear that."

"I don’t sleep, but I have no desire for a dagger at my throat during a peaceful moment."

"Wise words."

Cassius disappeared into the house. Jabbar’s quiet laugh lingered behind him, and then the night swallowed the Butler entirely.

He was gone.

...

From the luxurious Desdemona estate nestled in the heart of the high-tier city, to the city’s edge — where worn, haphazard buildings leaned against each other like exhausted men — there was a small house that could only fit one person with one room and no bathroom but with public baths down the street, shared with everyone else.

Three people lived inside it.

A brown-haired woman, grey threaded through her hair, knelt beside a worn-out bed.

She looked at the young man lying on it who was around eighteen, brown-haired, face drenched in sweat, lips trembling as if his blood had been replaced with ice.

His body was so thin he looked like a collection of sticks arranged into human shape.

"Omm, my poor son..." she whispered, her voice shaking, her warm brown eyes full of fear and the helplessness that came with it.

Her heart ached. Yet there was nothing she could do but wrap her calloused hands around his small one, hoping the warmth might ease him.

It helped a little for he calmed slightly. But it was far from enough.

Then the half-broken door burst open.

"I did it, Maryam!" The man, tall and brown-skinned, had to hunch his back just to fit inside the low doorway.

He was shouting with excitement, a pile of books cradled against his massive, veined arms.

Maryam snapped her head toward his husband, then leapt to her feet and immediately struck her head against the low ceiling. She winced but didn’t care.

"When did you get those, Ali? Where did the money come from?"

"I sold it!" Ali exclaimed, his hazel eyes finding his son before gently nudging Maryam aside to move closer to the bed. "I sold the carriage for thirty thousand SN, Maryam! More than I ever expected. And with that money..."

He set the books down on the floor and held up a vial, showing her with a grin full of broken yellow teeth.

Maryam’s eyes went wide.

"A Tier Seven Healing Potion! That’s everything we need to heal our son from this bloody fever!" He laughed, the joy of it spilling out of him. "And I got him his favourite books! Isn’t it something? Today was my lucky day, Maryam! May Vorn’s gaze fall elsewhere from that young man and that gentle woman who helped us!"

Maryam burst into tears. She threw her arms around her husband, her whole body shaking.

"But Ali!" She wept. "How will you work now? How do we pay the rent? How do we take care of the family?"

A fair question.

The money they had received would not last forever, especially after the books and the potion. It would run out faster than they could imagine.

And then what?

Maryam cleaned streets in the city for five hundred SN a day. Ali earned a little more, but even combined they barely survived each month.

Desde City had never been kind to people like them. Many times they had considered packing up and leaving — going back to their village, returning to being shepherds — but Ali had always refused.

His son would have a proper education. Whatever the cost.

So seeing his wife like this, Ali simply smiled and pulled her into his arms.

"It will be okay." He whispered. "I always tell you, Maryam, it will be okay. Always. Our Lord never burdens a soul beyond what it can bear. Never."

Her body began to ease at the sound of his voice.

"Life is made of tests. This is just one of them. One we will come through just like all the others." He stroked her hair. "Our son will be healed. Then he can take the entrance examination for Elysia Academy. Don’t you believe in him? In our son?"

"I... I do."

"Then dry your tears. Let’s heal him." He laughed his big, hearty laugh. "I’ll find work again soon enough. A city like this always needs a strong man like me! Hahaha! Come, Maryam! Come on! Our family will finally be whole again! You need to smile! Smile!"

"I know—!"

"I said smile!" He reached for her cheeks and tried to pull them into a wide grin.

She slapped his hands away and laughed despite herself — genuinely — and in that laugh was the face of a young woman under thirty, which her tired appearance usually hid. Ali barked a hard, delighted laugh at the sound of it.

His heart settled.

"Just like that! Yes! Let’s welcome Omm back with a smile!"

Maryam smiled through her tears. And together, with her grinning husband beside her, they gave their son the potion.

The effect was miraculous. Especially to them.

Omm Min Jambar opened his eyes shortly after. Steady hazel eyes, just like his father’s, looked up at the smiling faces waiting for him.

Instinctively, without thinking, his lips followed.

"...Always a smile... huh?" He whispered, his voice dry and hoarse.

Ali’s eyes shimmered, his grin holding. Maryam threw her arms around her son with overwhelming joy.

"Always, my son." He kissed his forehead. "Always."

—End of Chapter 66—