Media: Ales Sanrovo (before y'all start shipping, he's 37 and Cady is 18, so nope)

Music: After the Storm, the Witcher 3 OST

Cadence coughed hard, trying to expel the fumes from her throat. The bitter taste of ash and death was unrelenting, choking her with every breath she took.

Through swimming vision, she stumbled through the dark trees. Right ahead, a brilliant fire consumed everything; the leaves gleamed like millions of jewels before they shriveled up and crumbled into dust. People ran toward her, trying to beat the flames from their clothes.

Fear closed in like an impending sense of doom.

What is this? Where am I?

The burning trees vanished, taking the horrified shrieks of the people with them, as though someone had swiped a hand at the scene, clearing it all away.

Suddenly, she was perching on top of a cliff, overlooking a terrible battle below. In the sea of fire, a dark, pointed structure rose from the ground. She saw the banners fly before the fire ate them up—a silver raven with its wings spread across a black background, falling down into a sea of flames—the sigil of the Hall of Shadows. Arrows sang as they were released from bows drawn by powerful Oracles. Cadence scrabbled backward, her back hitting a wall, trapping her. She could do nothing but watch on.

Smoke rose where houses were set ablaze. War horses neighed and stampeded through the roads, heading toward crumbling Hall of Shadows. Blood and the sweet scent of burning flesh filled the air. Banners bearing thorns and a single apple—the sigil of the Hall of Spirits—flew high. Cadence's hands flew to her mouth and she turned to the other side, burying her head in her arms.

All around, there were the ragged cries of men and women being killed and ripped apart. A severed head dropped down in front of her.

Shezinka, her father's head said. Cady, my daughter. Look at me.

Cadence screamed and kicked the head away. It bounced down the slope and vanished into the sea of fire and ashes.

You killed our father.

Her brother's voice rang like a bell. Cadence covered her ears, eyes darting about, trying to see where Cole was.

Cole?

You're a murderer, Cadence. Her brother walked out from the burning trees. You made a deal with a Polong. Look what you've done. You have always hated Papa, hated him for trying to marry you off, hated him for killing your dreams of opening your own tailor shop. When the creature offered you a solution, you grabbed it without second thoughts. You've killed your own father, are you going to kill your brother too?

I don't hate Papa, I swear! she shrieked back. I was trying to save him!

Cole's expression was cold, indifferent, stone-like. He walked toward her, taking one deliberate step at a time.

Murderer. He closed his hands around her neck, squeezing it tight. Cadence jerked back, eyes bulging, trying to break free. But Cole was Varya, his hands were too strong.

He looked her right in the eyes. I hate you.

And he dragged her over the cliff. Cadence and Cole hurtled into the endless abyss of flames.

Cadence...

Killer...

Cady...

Murderer...

The wind howled past her ears, and her hair flew.

No more, please.

One of the voices came back stronger than ever.

Cady...

"Cady!"

She woke up at once, almost socking her brother in the face who hovered anxiously over her. His eyes were wide, and there was no color in his cheeks. He grabbed Cadence by the shoulders and shook her.

"Where are we? Why are we in the carriage? What happened to the Rakasha? Are we still alive? Is this Syurka? Tell me that I'm not crazy, this man here wouldn't tell me anything!"

Ales unfolded his arms, shadows dancing across his face. "I thought it would be best if you told him, little mite."

"Tell me what?" Cole shook Cadence even harder.

The nightmare had left Cadence weak. Her head spun, and every part of her wanted to give in, but the sight of her terrified brother made her sit up.

I don't want to tell him, what will he do? I can't!

"Papa is dead." Cadence blurted out. "The Rakasha killed him."

Cole fell back into his seat. "No, no, no." His hands went to his hair, yanking them violently. "NO!"

Cadence crawled toward him, holding his hands down before he could damage his face. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Tears welled out of her brother's eyes. Like crystals caught in sunlight, they rolled down his cheek and splashed onto Cadence's hand.

He jerked Cadence toward him and buried his face in her neck. His shoulders quivered as he screamed.

It took Cole a while before he was able to get a grasp of himself. He sat back, eyes red and swollen.

"We are going to the Hall of Games, aren't we?" he said in a tired tone.

"Indeed," Ales said. "However, there is nothing to fear. You're going to be part of something bigger, something greater."

"Why is my sister here with me? She's not-"

"I came willingly," Cadence interrupted. "No one coerced me to do anything."

"Are you crazy?" Cole was livid. "It's chaos out there! Lekhobarians would snap your neck so easily, you won't even have the time to run. You have no training, no Affinities. No." He directed his gaze at Ales. "Send her home."

"There is no home without you!" Cadence shouted. "Papa's dead. And you're off to the Hall of Games. Do you know what it feels like to be alone, Cole? I'd rather die than to give you up. You're family."

"The miting has made up her mind," Ales said. "We should respect that."

"I'm eighteen," Cadence snapped. "Don't call me a miting."

"Well, you are a small thing," Ales said.

Cole brushed his sister aside and hurled his words into Ales' face.

"Who should respect the fact that I want nothing to do with the Kesatria then? I'm Varya, but that doesn't give you the authority over me."

"Technically, you're a bastard. Nevertheless, the unrest between the nations must be addressed," Ales said. "Peace comes at the price of a sacrifice. It's not without reason all Varya must serve in the army. You have skills and enhanced abilities that could protect the people you love, and save them from situations like these."

Cole opened his mouth to snap at Ales but closed it when he came up with nothing.

Finally, after a long moment, he said: "You're just selling whatever they're telling you to do. It makes you no different from a slave."

"Aren't we all?" Ales glanced at the window, watching the frost creep up the windowpane.

Cadence tugged at her brother's hand, giving him a terse shake of her head, telling him to sit down quietly beside her. Arguing against the law was futile, there was no escaping it.

Cole's shoulders slumped forward. "What happened?"

"The Rakaska. I-It took off Papa's head. I couldn't do anything. I thought I could outrun it..."

She sobbed into her brother's chest. He held her head with one hand, and the other on her back, holding her like she was his lifeline, the only thing that linked him to sanity, and Cadence held back as tightly as he had. Here in this moment, there was no death, no pain, no Kesatria and no nightmares. There was only her brother.

"Forgive my intrusion," Ales said. "May I inquire your names?"

Cole glared at him.

"I'm Cadence Novik," Cadence said, seeing that Cole was intent on keeping his mouth sealed. "This is my brother, Cole."

"Who was your father?"

"Van Novik," Cadence said quietly. Saying her father's name out loud made her feel like a traitor. She killed him, she didn't deserve to even utter his name.

"Your mother?"

"Dead," Cole suddenly said. "We never knew her. She died when we were very young."

"Which parent did your Affinities take after?" Ales continued. "Your mother, or your father?"

"Father," Cole said. "Why are you asking all these questions?"

"The Hall of Games try to keep track of all the Varya bloodlines in Moskava. I have never heard of the Noviks."

"Well, we're new." Cadence could feel her brother fidgeting. "Greetings."

"And we have an unsolved case of two bastards in our hands," Ales said.

Snow continued to fall from the skies. Cole had given up arguing with Ales and resorted to sitting wordlessly at his own corner. Ales, on the other hand, was studying Cadence closely.

She stared back, wondering what the man wanted.

"The Hall of Games isn't a terrible place," Ales said. "It's a place where the queer, the unique, and the unwanted are united. I think you'll be able to find yourself a home there."

She didn't want to hear sweet words about the capital. She knew enough that it was the place where the major Houses congregated, where conspiracy stank to high heavens and where noble Houses fought each other for a place on the Moskavan Council.

"Tell me about the Orelik Mansion," she said. "Are there any survivors?"

"I don't know," Ales replied. "I was only able to pay the ruins a brief visit. There are other Kesatria who are in charge of the situation, so don't worry. House Orelik is a House of War. They survived the Great War, surely they can survive a Polong attack."

I meant the servants, the footmen, not just the nobles themselves. What happened in the Orelik Mansion, and what happened to her father was her fault. No matter how much she prayed, she was certain that the Dewas would never forgive her. They had a good reason not to. She wasn't even sure if she could ever forgive herself.