Chapter 5: Shadows of the Forgotten Year

Cassian scanned the quiet forest, his senses sharp and alert. The stillness felt unnatural. No guards, no footsteps, not even the faintest hint of pursuit.

His thoughts raced. *What? Not a single guard? Did they just give up after one day? That doesn’t make any sense. Something’s going on... and I need to figure out what.*

He stepped cautiously through the forest, his movements deliberate and silent. Every shadow felt like it could conceal another trap, but no ambush came. As the dense trees began to thin, he spotted a house in the distance.

His gaze fixed on the structure, and he frowned. *That house... yeah, I’ve heard about it. Rumor is, the family’s off on some long trip. Perfect.*

Cassian approached cautiously, circling the property to ensure no one was home. When he was certain the coast was clear, he made his way to the side of the house. The second-floor window caught his eye. It was locked, but that wasn’t a problem for him.

With practiced efficiency, he picked the lock and slipped inside. The room he entered was a bedroom, neatly kept with a large, inviting bed. Cassian’s body ached, and exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but he shook his head. *Not yet. I’ll rest after I figure out what’s going on. My body feels like it’s been through hell, but I can’t afford to let my guard down.*

He moved carefully through the house, descending the stairs into the dimly lit living room. The hum of silence filled the air as he glanced around for anything that could provide answers. His eyes fell on the television.

*The crown...* he thought, a knot forming in his stomach. *I stole the crown of the missing crown prince. There’s no way that hasn’t made headlines. I need to know what the situation is.*

Cassian turned on the TV, keeping the volume low. The bright screen illuminated the dark room, and he quickly switched to a news channel. The familiar drone of a news anchor’s voice filled the space.

The anchor spoke with measured urgency: “It has been a year since the theft of the crown of the missing crown prince, and authorities have yet to recover it or identify the thief. The scandal has only deepened, with the head guard and several accomplices confessing to their attempt to stage a trap that ultimately led to the crown’s disappearance. Public outrage continues to grow, with many criticizing the government’s inability to secure such a vital artifact.”

Cassian’s heart stopped. *A year?*

The anchor continued, “In response to the rising public pressure, the government has dispatched a special investigative team to track down the missing crown and its thief. Leading the team is one of the government’s most skilled officers, Raiden Nightshade, known for his mastery of shadow manipulation and his unyielding pursuit of justice.”

Cassian stared at the screen, his mind racing as the name echoed in his ears. Raiden Nightshade. His reputation was infamous, a relentless officer with abilities that made him a nightmare for anyone on the wrong side of the law.

*But none of that matters,* Cassian thought, his chest tightening. *A year? How the hell has it been a year?*

He sank onto the edge of the couch, his breathing uneven as he tried to piece together what was happening. His memories were a jumbled mess—he remembered swallowing the pearl, the burning heat, the dreamlike vision of another world. And then... nothing.

The weight of realization hit him like a blow. *That pearl... did it do something to me? Did it—*

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound outside. Cassian froze, his instincts kicking in as he quickly muted the TV and moved to the window. Peering through the curtains, he scanned the area. The forest edge remained still, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

*They’ve dispatched a special team to find me. If Raiden’s involved, they’re not just searching randomly. They know something.*

His fingers tightened around the windowsill. *A year. A whole damn year. I need answers, and I need them fast.*

He retreated into the shadows of the house, his mind racing. Whatever the pearl had done to him, whatever the consequences of stealing that crown were, one thing was clear: he wasn’t safe. Not anymore.

*I’ve been missing for a year. They won’t stop until they find me.*

Cassian’s jaw clenched as he glanced back at the television, the image of Raiden Nightshade still displayed on the screen. *And now, he’s hunting me. Great.*

With renewed determination, he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave. The first step was figuring out what had happened during the missing year. The second was staying one step ahead of Raiden.

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Because if there was one thing Cassian knew, it was this: no one ever escaped Raiden Nightshade.

“Brother...?”

Cassian froze at the soft voice, the doorknob cold under his hand. He didn’t turn, didn’t move, but the word echoed in his head.

His stomach dropped. Damn it. They’ve come back. The family must’ve returned. Panic tightened his chest. How could I have been so careless?l

The child’s voice came again, wobbling with the edges of a sob. “Don’t leave me again, br... other...” The soft sniffles twisted into quiet sobs. “You all left me. You’re all bad.”

Cassian’s heart pounded as the pieces clicked together. Wait. Alone? He risked a glance over his shoulder. The child, barely two years old, stood at the foot of the staircase, clutching a tattered stuffed animal. No one else stirred in the house.

So, it’s just him here. No parents, no one else...

Before he could process it further, tiny hands gripped his leg. Cassian’s body tensed as the child clung to him, face buried against his pants.

“Brother, you’ll stay, right?” The small voice was hopeful, trembling with vulnerability. “You’re back.”

Cassian’s blood ran cold. His eyes widened, and his entire body locked up. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Panic shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and his thoughts spiraled.

No. Don’t—don’t touch me.

The child’s warmth seeped through his clothing, but to Cassian, it felt suffocating, burning through the fabric and branding his skin. His knees buckled as his legs gave out, sending him crashing to the floor near the door.

Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.

He scrambled back, gasping for air as memories swarmed him, tearing apart the fragile walls he’d built in his mind. His vision blurred, the room around him fading as the past came roaring back in vivid, excruciating detail.

Hands. So many hands. Rough and unrelenting, grabbing, pinning, tearing away his dignity. Voices, cruel and mocking, whispered promises of mercy that never came. Laughter, sharp and cruel, echoed in his ears as he fought, only to be overpowered again and again.

His breath came in short, panicked bursts. The child’s touch was gone, but he couldn’t feel it, couldn’t register anything but the suffocating weight of his memories.

“Stop...” The word came out as a choked whisper.

The hands weren’t real. The voices weren’t here. But they felt so vivid, so present.

“Stop!” His scream tore through the silent house, raw and broken. His body trembled violently as he curled into himself, desperate to escape the nightmare consuming him.

But the memories didn’t stop. They never stopped.

Tears streamed down his face, though he barely noticed. His chest heaved, struggling to draw in air as the past clawed at him, dragging him deeper into its suffocating grip.

Somewhere in the haze, the child’s voice broke through, soft and trembling. “Brother?”

Cassian’s heart wrenched, but the panic didn’t abate. He clawed at the floor, forcing himself to sit up, though his limbs felt like lead. The house swam around him as he struggled to ground himself, his fists clenched tightly against the trembling of his body.

“I’m sorry...” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “Just... don’t touch me. Don’t come near me.”

The child’s wide, innocent eyes were filled with confusion and fear, but Cassian couldn’t bear to look. He forced himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he wiped his face with a trembling hand.

“You can’t—” His voice broke, and he clenched his fists tighter. “Just... don’t do that again.”

The child stepped back, clutching his stuffed animal tightly. Cassian forced himself to look away, his jaw clenched as he tried to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to drown him.

You are not them. You’re not like them.

The mantra echoed in his mind, but it felt hollow, powerless against the storm raging within him.

Cassian turned toward the door, desperate to escape the house, the child, the memories. He couldn’t stay. Not here. Not with the past clawing at him, not with the weight of it all threatening to crush him.

As his hand touched the doorknob, the child’s soft voice came again. “Brother... where are you going?”

Cassian’s chest tightened. His fingers dug into the doorknob, his knuckles white.

“Nowhere,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “Just... stay away from me.”

He opened the door and stepped outside, the cool air hitting his face like a slap. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Each step away from the house felt heavier, as if the memories were trying to pull him back. But he kept walking, forcing himself forward, even as the child’s voice echoed in his mind.

“Don’t leave me again, brother.”