Ashes of the Moon

Echoes Of Ossian

My eagerness to see him was overwhelming. I had never been away for such a prolonged period before. I made my way to the tree where I was certain to find him at that hour.

As expected, he was there, but he appeared much frailer compared to when I left. What's more, he bore numerous wounds and injuries all over his body, as though someone had taken pleasure in tormenting him. He lay sound asleep on the farthest tree from our home, sprawled out on the trunk.

Filled with rage, I knelt beside him, my heart heavy with the realization that I had failed him once again. I brushed a strand of hair from his face, causing him to twitch before opening his beautiful eyes, his curiosity piqued as he gazed at the person before him. When he recognized me, his eyes widened, and tears welled up.

"B-brother…"

Unsure of what else to do, I embraced him without a second thought. I had missed him immensely.

"It's me, I'm here. Don't worry," I assured him. I promised him that it would soon be over, and the time had come for us to escape. We had to leave this place.

" But Mother still needs me. I can't leave her here, all alone…"

I didn't know how to respond to him. How could I tell him that his mother wouldn't be a part of his life anymore, except in his memories?

As I was about to speak, she appeared on the path leading to the tree. I slowly let go of him so he could face her. She appeared as if her illness was long gone, but I knew that the state I had seen her in before couldn't have disappeared so quickly. She was only putting on a front for her child so that he wouldn't have to worry. I admired her strength at that moment.

"Don't worry, my dear child. Once I've settled everything here, I promise to come to you."

He released my hand, collapsing into her arms, silently shedding tears. He knew it wouldn't be that simple.

She looked at me with unwavering determination. We had to carry out the plan.

The plan appeared straightforward: I had to escape with my brother without alerting any of the guards. With his mother's help, it was relatively easy to slip past the gates.

After being bedridden for a month, it seemed reasonable to allow her some fresh air and accompany her, along with her son, on a stroll. No one questioned it.

Once we were outside the walls, a horse loaded with provisions for our journey stood near the forest. She had meticulously orchestrated everything.

This was our sole opportunity to break free from our predetermined fate, and its success was imperative.

Wasting no time, I seized the horse's reins, my younger brother clutching tightly to my back, and we galloped away. I couldn't afford to halt, not even when I heard my brother's tearful pleas for a final embrace from his mother, a sudden realization dawning upon him.

Minutes stretched into hours, and when the horse eventually began to tire, I decided it was safe to take a brief rest.

The forest was both a sanctuary and a challenge. It stretched endlessly in every direction, the towering trees casting long shadows over the damp earth. During the day, beams of sunlight pierced through the thick canopy, illuminating the soft green moss that coated the forest floor. At night, the wind howled through the branches, whispering secrets neither of us understood.

For the first few nights, my brother clung to me, waking at every unfamiliar sound.

"Are you sure we're safe here?" he asked one evening as we sat beside a small fire, the flames casting flickering shadows across his face.

"Nowhere is truly safe," I admitted. "But we're free. That has to count for something."

He lowered his gaze, drawing patterns in the dirt with his fingers.

"I still think about her," he murmured.

"I know. I do too."

We didn't speak after that, letting the crackling fire fill the silence.

By the fourth day, we reached the outskirts of a town nestled between the hills. It was nothing like the city we had come from—no towering stone walls or marching guards, no noble carriages rolling through the streets. This place was alive in a way I had never seen before. Children ran freely through the narrow alleys, their laughter echoing between the wooden houses. Merchants shouted over one another, bargaining in loud, expressive voices. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat filled the air, making my brother's stomach growl audibly.

"Can we eat something that isn't stale bread?" he pleaded.

I smiled, ruffling his hair. "We'll find something."

We spent the next few days blending into the town's rhythm. I took on small tasks in exchange for food—helping a blacksmith carry supplies, sweeping the front of a tavern. My brother, ever the curious one, found comfort in watching the townspeople, learning how they lived, playing around with the town's children. That was the life I wanted for him. He was free. 

"It's strange," he said one evening as we sat near the river. "No one here seems afraid."

"That's because they live freely" I replied.

He kicked a rock into the water, watching the ripples spread. "I like it here," he admitted. "Do you think we can stay?"

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to believe that we had finally found a place where we could be safe, where we could build a new life. But deep down, I knew the past wouldn't let us go so easily.

On the seventh night, my fears were confirmed.

We had set up camp in the forest just beyond the town's borders. The fire had burned low, and my brother was dozing off beside me when I heard it—a rustling in the trees.

I tensed, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at my side.

"What is it?" my brother whispered, sensing my unease.

"Stay behind me," I ordered.

A shadow moved through the mist.

"Who's there?" I called out.

No answer.

Then, without warning, a figure lunged from the darkness.

I barely had time to react before steel met steel, my dagger clashing against the assassin's blade. He moved with terrifying precision, each strike calculated to wound but not kill.

"You've gotten slow," the assassin taunted, his voice smooth and cruel. "All that training, and you're still just a frightened little boy."

I take some time to recognise him in the darkness of the night. "Cassian..."

Cassian was not just an assassin. He was one of my father's most trusted men.

He stepped out from the fog like a shadow given form, his movements silent, calculated. The firelight revealed a man clothed in dark, reinforced leather armor, the plates worn from battle but well-maintained. A long, curved blade hung at his side, and across his back rested a second weapon—one I knew too well.

It was the same sword my father's elite soldiers carried.

His hood fell back slightly as he moved, revealing a face carved from stone—sharp jawline, cold blue eyes, and a thin scar running down his cheek. His expression was unreadable, yet his presence alone sent a shiver down my spine.

I knew him.

Cassian had once been a silent figure looming in the background of my childhood, always near my father, always watching. He was not a mere soldier. He was my father's hound—his enforcer, his executioner.

"You've strayed far from home," Cassian said, his voice smooth yet laced with something dangerous. "And you've taken something that does not belong to you."

I moved instinctively, shifting in front of my little brother.

"He is not an object to be owned." My voice was firm, but I could feel my brother's small hands gripping the back of my shirt, trembling.

Cassian let out a quiet chuckle. "Spoken like someone who still doesn't understand the world he was born into." He tilted his head, his gaze flicking to my brother for only a moment before settling back on me. "Your father is done waiting. It's time to return."

The mention of him made my blood run cold.

"I'm never going back," I said, my hand moving toward the hilt of my dagger.

Cassian sighed, shaking his head. "Do you think this is a choice?" He took a step forward, and I instinctively pulled my brother back. "You've always been naive, but this?" He gestured toward our surroundings. "Running into the wilderness like a scared child? It's embarrassing."

Anger flared inside me.

"If you think I'm just going to hand him over, you don't know me at all."

Cassian's smirk was infuriating. "On the contrary, I know exactly who you are." His voice turned mocking. "The boy who was always too soft, too sentimental. It was only a matter of time before your father lost patience with you."

I clenched my jaw.

"If he's so impatient, why didn't he come himself?" I challenged.

Cassian's eyes darkened. "Because I am more than enough to bring back two runaway children."

And then, without warning, he moved.

I gritted my teeth, forcing him back with a wild swing.

"Run!" I shouted at my brother.

But he didn't. He stood frozen, watching the battle with wide, terrified eyes.

The assassin smirked. "How touching."

In one swift motion, Cassian reached into his coat and flicked his wrist.

A small glass vial flew through the air, crashing to the ground. The liquid inside splashed out, releasing a sharp, pungent gas that instantly filled the air around me.

The scent was overwhelming—a combination of burning herbs and something foul, like rotting metal. My lungs burned as I tried to gasp for air, but it only worsened. A wave of dizziness hit me, my vision spiraling.

My legs buckled beneath me, and I tried to fight it, but my body refused to obey. The world around me twisted, the edges of my sight darkening as my mind screamed to stay awake.

"Brother!" I heard his desperate voice, but it was distant, fading as my consciousness slipped further away.

I tried to move, tried to speak, but everything went black.

A Nightmare Without End.

When I awoke, the world was silent.

The air smelled of blood.

The weight in my hands was unbearable.

A bloodied sword.

My brother lying still.

His small frame, once full of life, now unmoving beneath the cold light of the moon.

The stars disappeared behind the clouds, and rain started to pour heavily. It never stopped pouring in my heart since then…