"Dreams. A realm composed and culminated by possibilities we want to experience or wish would go on forever. The thin line between dreams and delusions is blurred by action rather than hope. All men can hope. However, clinging to hope but without action, dreams remain a drowning man's straw. I dared to dream. Now I carved out a world as foreign to me as fulfilled dreams might be to others. Maybe I will survive long enough to dream once more. " Words by Emperor Solarin quoted from 'Founding the Imperium' by Rhetor Marcus Ancus Caesar.
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My return to the academy, a few short days after my dealings in Nighthold, left some residual taste on my tongue. I had not yet determined whether the taste was sour or insipid. However, my fellow students seemed to have an opinion on it.
The whispers that floated every time I passed insinuated that my delayed arrival had some implications for my reputation. The depth of it was still unclear. Then came the blatant segregation, with most students avoiding where I was. Or they would vacate where I had intruded rather subtly, as if trying not to offend me, which instead left me very offended.
It felt like there was more to it—something buried deep in my mangled memories. Despite the peace that came from being in the academy, far from the violence that haunted my initial transmigration days, I could not find my footing. Distracted by thoughts that pulled me out of books each time I tried to focus on the upcoming exams.
Being overwhelmed by such thoughts drove me into journaling. Something soothing came from documenting my day, and for the past two days, my thoughts have felt organised. Coherent. Other than journaling about myself, I used my afternoons scouting.
I took notes of things worth noticing. Since returning, I found myself drawn to minute details. Like how Rhetor Augus and Debra exchanged glances during lectures. It was fascinating weaving together random information, hopeful that one day I would pick something intriguing.
The afternoon found me in my usual corner in the common hall. From my platformed desk I could look at the entire hall. I had just finished journaling about the first half of my day. My eyes were peeled out, scanning through the floods of students scattered across the hall. The desks within my radius were entirely abandoned when I approached. Funny enough, by the time I get to my corner, I find my food laid out and the vicinity vacated. It was getting lonely.
While I ate, I was noting down something rather interesting. There was no sighting of students from Dorm Regelia, the dorm reserved only for the best; even lowly first years never graced the common hall with their presence.
With members of the same dorms occupying the same regions, creating four distinct cliques. Even with those dorm cliques, there were further divisions. These lines were drawn by streaks of blood dividing them into the existing castes.
Maybe there's something worthy exploiting there, I thought.
I went back to my journal. Scribbling away.
I had noticed him approach, or rather, never anticipated anyone approaching. I was drawn first to his black blazer jacket.
Finally, a wolf among the sheep.
"I have no business with a regelia," I said, returning to my book.
"It has nothing to do with the dorm. I have been sent with a summon," the boy said.
"You don't fear me?" I posed.
"I do,"
Hmmm, Interesting.
" Lead the way then," I gathered my books, ready to follow. I was now getting curious about what the previous Cassian did to earn him this much terror. Most of my actions at Nighthold should have just led to shock rather than this.
Now I was blind, with nothing to guide me. I had to do something about my memories before it was too late, or is it already too late?
The boy led down to the staff offices. I could tell where I was going, an inkling of what I was to expect dancing in my mind. As we went down the hallways, memories flashed. Sporadic images projected into my mind in flashes, coming and going too fast for me to grasp what was happening.
My mind was buzzing, my sight was blurring, but luckily, the boy had stopped. My hand gripped his shoulder for support as the world revolved slightly. Once everything was back to normal, I found the boy staring, his eyes too deep within mine—traces of fear raging within him.
"Your company was dearly appreciated," I told the boy as I awkwardly parted my hand from his shoulder, "You may leave."
With the boy scurrying away, I knocked slightly and went in.
I found Rhetor Felix standing right next to his desk. He wrinkled out an ear-to-ear smile, glad that I came.
"Young Master, I see that you are well."
"I am rhetor," I went for the empty seat across the desk from where he sat.
The room was just as it was in the memory flashes. It was bland and mundane. The smell of aging books festered within the room. The previous Cassian used to find it appalling, for it reminded him of his weakness, one that only Rhetor Felix knew and tried endlessly to cure.
"You have not been coming to our weekly sessions, and with the exams near, I thought you would need them."
"I have been a bit preoccupied."
"I have noticed," Rhetor Felix pulled his chair backwards to stand," You seem like you are not yourself."
I looked up, matching his gaze, " I don't feel like myself."
My face gave away enough to alleviate his suspicion. Moving towards his food tray, he took out two cups and dropped sugar cubes into them.
"I came across some wonderful herbs from the lowlands."
"Tixaris," I intruded
"Yes, they make great tea, and they may help with your ailments."
I smiled gently. It was a trick question.
"Rhetor, I will decline politely," I replied. The trick was that the previous Cassian never drank anything with sugar, except for wine, and that was once in a while.
"Too bad then," Rhetor Felix poured himself a cup. He turns and smiles. I smile back.
The momentary silence was speaking more than it should have. My mind was racing, drawing to pick out as much as I could from the resurfaced memories. Sharp pain rang in my mind, drawing me out of my reminiscence.
"I heard what happened in Nighthold."
"I think everyone has," I commented.
"I am surprised your clan let the story run, given your reputation," Rhetor Feli poked.
"Probably part of Father's plan, he always has one."
"So was it your plan or his?" Rhetor's smile disappeared as he posed the question.
"No, it was mine. I was given authority to handle things as I saw fit."
Rhetor's smile turned into a gleam as if pleased with what I had just said.
"Then seems the sessions were worth it. You no longer have the political swerve of a commoner."
"I am no commoner," I rebutted as if triggered.
"I forgot you don't like being bunched up with the rest of us."
"I don't."
"I would like to know why one day," He sips his tea.
The silence this time speaks less but lingers longer. I found no comfort in it.
"I missed our discussions," I said, feigning a harking back to recollections of them," The only time I get to have a conversation."
"The only time you feel human, not the monster everyone thinks you are," Rhetor added his voice, softening with sympathy.
"I am a monster, now more than ever."
I found myself thinking of being The Stranger and how it has changed my life and my perception of it in such a short moment. A second chance at life was a dream even in a world that felt like a nightmare. Just like a nightmare, I was happy to be a creature born of a sickening darkness, one that devours all hope. A creature bred and rooted in fear. A seed of darkness and its harbinger.
So I smiled as I looked at him," And I don't regret it."
Rhetor's face cracked. He was stuck between genuine concern and delight.
"Such excellent conviction, my boy," He broke into a polite chuckle," I hope we will resume our lessons?"
"We will from next week,"
"Okay, how about we set a time you are okay with. Summoning you via students is getting increasingly hard."q
I matched his chuckle," Every Monday at 3 pm."
"Alright, it's settled then."
"I stood, bowed slightly out of respect, then left.
I think this is what therapy feels like, I said to myself as I went to my q.