Board Thread:Short Stories and Fanfictions/@comment-44907704-20200201232939/@comment-44907704-20200213234046

An older Cassius stood in the Sencen’s living room, looking grave and defeated… especially his eyes. They seemed to be darker and go deeper somehow, like tears had gathered together and formed pools that were empty after they’d been spilled.

If Cassius had limits, like never resorting to violence and physical harm… she needed to know what hers were. So did all her friends and everyone in the Black Swan.

And she would make sure of it.

Somehow this version of Lord Cassius seemed more adventurous, like he belonged in a human movie instead of the Elvin world. His legs were spread apart in a way that seemed like a battle stance — his hands looked like they were holding onto something invisible, almost like he had a tight grip on a Hunger Games style sword and was ready to charge into battle. He wasn’t going to sit idly by all this.

But he would never have the guts to join a rebellion, which was what separated him from Keefe. His hair was longer and droopier, like every part of Keefe stretched to look bigger and more fitting for his age — more like his brother instead of his dad, which made sense since, well, she was in a memory. One slight twitch of his eyebrows made his bottom eyelid swell with something that seemed like guilt and hesitation, like emotions were being thrown at him and bouncing off at the same time.

''He could deflect so many things from him, but not the faults of his own wife. ''Sophie allowed a tiny drop of sympathy trickle in from a stream for Lord Cassius, then unleashed the rest of it for Keefe. She knew genes didn’t make everything… but the matchmaking system went against that. It was what made most of them in the first place.

Making her even more rare, stand out even more. In this way, she began to understand why people had reacted the way they had when they first heard of or saw her — they simply didn’t know how to react the right way, if there was even a right way anymore. If another result of a genetic experiment stepped foot in the Elvin world, she’d probably lose it as well.

As for the others… It helped them blend in. She wasn’t sure quite how she would manage staring into Fitz’s teal eyes again and seeing what kind of scars she’d caused on him. Being with Fitz made him realize how she’d always wanted to never have a choice in anything and to have a choice in everything she could at the same time.

When there’d always been a balance of both. She didn’t want to choose between the triangle that’d always been a square, and one of her options had already been removed. How much time would pass before another one would be gone, too?

“Conjurers,” Avery Sencen scowled, frowned, and threw his hands up into the air at the same time — followed by muttering something under his breath that made Cassius draw back with a surprised smirk on his face. “Looks like they’re good at something, huh?”

Cassius’s dad’s expression was reproach mixed with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe what his son had done — or maybe that Conjurers were good at something aside from cueing the appearance of random objects. Sophie instantly felt a pang of guilt hit her stomach, because what? She would never think of anything like that!

"The girl. What’s her name?”

Cassius stepped forward now, placing a steady foot below an invisible weapon. “What?”

Why was he asking for his… agh, he hated that word. Never heard his father refer to his wife that way — no, that wasn’t the right way to refer to his mother. She was his mother.

"She’s named after a flower.”

It was the perfect response —  enough to trick his dad into thinking that his son thought of the girl as a freaky person named after a flower, clearly inferior to an elf — while knowing that Lily was named after something beautiful. Something the elves valued.

Flowers harnessed light. They were alive — how he always felt when he was around her, despite all their arguments and tormenting.

Avery shook his head, not falling for the act. “She’s taking you away from your studies. I guess it doesn’t matter when you’re in the middle of your teenage angst, not thankful to your father for introducing you to success you can find from reading—”

"I like studying! It doesn’t make any difference that you forced me—” He’d made another mistake, blurting whatever he wanted to say without a filter. It was a weakness, not just because his father thought so.

And using his real voice, but what did that matter anymore? He’d been using it at school for the past two years and his father hadn’t known.

An exciting feeling suddenly bubbled up in his stomach. He had kept a secret from his father! He never thought he would be able to—

Avery smiled at his son, the way he’d done through girls, school, and home. It was so startling, like the reveal of his voice or being granted permission to leave the house, that he fell back with clumsiness and bent his arm at a weird angle. A strange thought appeared in his mind: I wonder if he ever did this to mom.

There was something that was missing, though: in his father’s smile, in his own thoughts, in everything he’d ever known, that had changed with that one look. That one emotion, so powerful and hidden under so many layers of him.

Gently patting his son’s shoulder and swatting away an invisible shield that had wrapped around him, he squeezed his fingers awkwardly and somewhat kindly. “Would you have liked it if I hadn’t forced you into doing it in the first place?”

''I… I don’t know. But I swear, I do! I know myself well enough, just give me a few moments… If you know me, you shouldn’t take my hesitation as doubt.''

“Ahhhhhh.” The exasperated sigh told his father everything he needed to know, but he somehow didn’t press on and instead addressed the more important matter, “I wasn’t forcing—” “Of course you were! You never bothered to check up on me. The only time I’ve seen you care is when you send my daily assignments to me every morning! And you’d check them and when I didn’t finish…”

“That’s because I cared about your future, Cassius. I still care. You’d rather have a harder childhood now and success when you grow up than the opposite, I assume?”

The slightest hesitation would give him away. He’d already done that by thinking a second earlier, so Cassius decided to give his father the satisfaction by glancing down at the invisible sword piercing through his blazing red-and-orange striped shoes coated with a layer of yellow, an indicator to his father of his level at Foxfire. “N-Yes.”

“And then you completely—”

“I’M DONE!” He felt his head literally explode and clear for a fraction of a second before a headache came over him. He spun to face away from his father as he imagined light passing through him, threatening to break him apart with the tiny bit of darkness they possessed as he floated somewhere far, far away…

...And came back to the Statue Room of Underdunes with a hard slap.

Avery’s eyes flashed sympathy, pity, knowledge, but were as hard as steel and as sharp as the blade threatening to cut into his skin. “We never love for ourselves, Cassius. The matches on our matchmaking lists? They don’t guarantee eternal happiness. Faith. Devotion. Nowhere close,” he shook his head, glancing up at his son, “We try to focus on too many things with the matchmaking system. Why do you think bad matches exist? Why does each Pathfinder have so many facets, but each light leaping crystal only lead to one place?"

"I suppose this is when being Talentless would come in handy. When we give up everything for love... we are foolhardy. We can't see into the future. Our sight is clouded by something that should exist but not be as important. This is why the matchmaking system is perfect for us."

He blinked, completely unshaken. "So... we'll always wonder who the best person for us is?"

​​​​​​"No. So we know there's someone better out there — and we'll never be able to find them. Or, if you prefer to see it in your way," he chuckled, amused, "You'll always have to wonder about who the person is. The thought will never leave you. And since you're wholeheartedly a victim of love, your love will be lessened to the point where it is equal to that of the person you might chose on your matchmaking list."

"We won't be distracted. Our reputations will be raised. We can have a perfect balance. We'll learn to love equally. There would be no more rebellion — all because we don't have the best match."

"Love is the thing behind all this? Seriously?" ​​​​ His father's eyes widened before they narrowed. "You could do a lot better than someone like Mella, you know."

Mella.

He hadn't even known what his mother's name was before then.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Lord Avery sighed and hooked his wrist through his son's elbow, "Let's get you properly matched!"