After Kai concluded his tale, a heavy silence settled over the group like a shroud. Klaus exhaled slowly and turned his gaze to Cassie, his expression veiled and weary, the dim light catching the hollow exhaustion in his eyes.
"And you?" he asked, voice subdued. "What happened in the north?"
Cassie raised a brow—barely visible beneath her blindfold—and chuckled softly.
"My, my... curious now, are we? I thought you didn't care much for stories unless they came with a battlefield."
Klaus offered a lopsided shrug, sinking deeper into his chair and lifting his cup to his lips.
"I changed my mind. Indulge me, if you will. But if not, that's fine too. I'm not that curious."
Cassie's fingers slipped forward, plucking the cup from his hands with a smoothness that caught him entirely off guard. Klaus blinked in disbelief, his face contorting in a mix of horror and offense.
"Hey! That's my medicine!"
She sniffed the contents, wrinkled her nose in disdain, and promptly poured it out the open window.
"Stop it," she scolded. "You're already drunk. Bourbon in a teacup isn't medicine, Klaus. It's just sad."
He let out a long sigh, his jaw tightening as he crossed his arms like a sulking child, slumping back with the petulance of someone caught red-handed.
Effie, watching the exchange unfold, looked between them with wide eyes and utter disbelief. Was this real? Klaus, the ever-composed tactician, the iron-willed tyrant, was letting someone chide him like a misbehaving schoolboy?
She let out a laugh that rang through the chamber, flashing Cassie a sly, knowing grin.
"Well, well, well... Oh my god... What a?"
Klaus blinked at her, unbothered. If he had any idea what she was insinuating, he showed no sign of caring.
Cassie coughed and turned her face away, cheeks faintly flushed as she sat back down with a quiet sigh.
"I suppose... it's my turn now."
The blind young woman grew silent, her hands resting calmly on her lap as her thoughts coalesced. At last, she spoke, her voice soft and measured.
"My descent into the Nightmare was... less brutal than yours. At least, at first. I awoke in the body of a young priestess, sworn to serve the High Oracle of the North—an ancient figure known as the One in the North, matron of the Night Temple. In that age, the temple still belonged to the cult of the Goddess of the Black Skies... the Storm God. Deity of stars, darkness, and silent guidance. No light was permitted to touch the sacred grounds."
Cassie reached up and gently removed her blindfold, revealing the pale, glassy depths of her eyes. They held no sight, but there was clarity in them nonetheless—like still waters beneath a starless sky. Slowly, she let her hand fall again.
"The acolytes there live for years in total darkness. Before becoming priestesses, they blind themselves. It is a sacred rite. They are known as the Eyeless. Many among them are gifted with visions—seers, oracles, prophets. And for most, their life would seem bleak... but for me, it was strangely peaceful. To be among others like myself. To live in a place where my blindness was not a flaw to be pitied or mocked—but a choice. A calling."
Klaus's brow furrowed, his usual guarded composure shifting into something softer.
"I don't see it that way… I was blind for a few hours too, remember?"
Cassie blinked at him, once... then again. A quiet smile tugged at her lips.
"You're the exception," she murmured. "But thank you."
Her voice lowered slightly as she continued.
"...The Oracle—my lady—was a figure of grace and mystery. She was not unkind. I came to admire her... even find comfort in her presence. She taught me much. But like the rest of the Chain Lords, she was unraveling—subtly, insidiously. Her madness was not one of rage or sorrow, but of detachment. Of apathy so vast it swallowed everything in its path."
The smile faded from Cassie's face like the last rays of dusk vanishing behind dark clouds.
"Despite her dwindling interest in the world, the One in the North still held dominion over the entire upper region of the Kingdom of Hope. Villages and towns—fragile settlements of mortals—looked to the Night Temple for protection. Thus, she commanded not only the Eyeless priestesses, but also a formidable force of soldiers and Awakened warriors."
Cassie's voice grew colder, her fingers curling slightly in her lap.
"But over time... she stopped caring. Her indifference seeped into every corner of the temple. Into every decision, every silence. And yet, when I first arrived... things had not yet begun to crumble."
She fell quiet again. Then, with a voice like a blade slipping free of its sheath, she added:
"...Until they did."
Night had long since crept in, drowning the corners of the stone room in a cloak of shadow. A pale wind murmured through the cracks in the old walls, and the soft flicker of the lantern made Cassie's face seem carved from moonlight—graceful, solemn, and contorted by a scowl that deepened with each breath she took. At last, a weary sigh escaped her lips, sounding as if it had been held in her chest for centuries.
"It began not long after I arrived in the Nightmare," she said softly, her voice threading through the gloom like silk laced with thorns. "At first, it was only whispers—strange tales carried on the wind by frightened villagers. The kind of stories people invent to chase away the real horrors that linger after sunset. They spoke of a voice... beautiful, inviting, drifting from the fog."
Klaus listened in silence, his expression inscrutable. But he already knew. He'd seen the memories locked inside Miseria's and Lich's minds. He knew who it was: Mordret.
Cassie's jaw tightened, the muscle flickering just beneath her smooth skin.
"If only my lady had not been so consumed by her apathy, we might have acted. We might have stopped it then. But she was… distant. Disconnected from everything except her own ancient grief. And so we, too, became numb. We told ourselves it was nothing."
Her voice, low and steady, filled the chamber with an eerie serenity. A gentle, creeping dread wove through her words like a whisper in the dark.
"We dispatched patrols—eyeless priestesses, hunting squads. Brave souls who vanished into the mist and never returned. Every force we sent into that cursed fog… was devoured."
A shiver ran through her frame, barely perceptible.
"And all the while, people kept disappearing. One by one, at first. Then entire families. And then, one bleak morning… an entire village lay abandoned. No blood. No signs of struggle. Just silence. The fog had taken them all."
She paused, and the hush that followed was heavy, suffocating.
"Even the strongest among us began to fall. Veteran warriors. Awakened fighters. We even lost an Ascended."
Her voice darkened.
"But what truly terrified us was that there was no pattern. No rhythm to the creature's movements. It struck in the west one day, then the east the next. As if it existed everywhere at once. We couldn't concentrate our forces—not without risking a massacre elsewhere."
Her eyes seemed to stare through the darkness, deep into the past.
"So, we devised a trap. A desperate gamble. All we needed was a lure… and I volunteered."
She said it simply, but there was steel in her voice.
"…Of course, back then, I didn't understand. That the true trap had not been set by us… but for us. It wasn't just a Nightmare Creature hiding in the fog. It was him."
She bared her teeth slightly in bitter fury.
"Mordret. The Prince of War. And while our forces gathered, while we prepared to ensnare him, he tore through the unguarded lands like a storm. A thousand souls vanished in one night. A town swallowed by silence."
She turned her gaze toward Klaus. The others followed her eyes instinctively. Klaus raised a brow, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, voice light.
"Well… yes. That does sound like something Mordret would do. He can fracture his soul, create reflections. Mirrors, progress, strife—it's all part of his Aspect. No surprise that he used it to be everywhere at once."
He shrugged, nostalgic amusement playing in his eyes.
"I suspected he would strike the north. The One in the North rarely intervenes in worldly affairs. It was the most vulnerable target. If I were him, I'd have done the same—consolidate power, strengthen the reflections…"
His smirk widened, and then he added, with a playful glint:
"I could tell you how to kill him… explain his Aspect in full. But I'm bound by a contract—one I made years ago, before he was imprisoned. So, don't ask."
He paused. Then, almost dismissively, he added with a shrug:
"Ah, scratch that. I don't owe anyone a damn thing anymore. Do whatever you want. I don't care."
Sunny and Kai exchanged glances. They already knew about the contract. Effie said nothing. Cassie let out a sigh and gave a small nod, accepting his words.
Her voice softened again.
"The survivors fled. Whole families, broken and terrified, came to the Night Temple seeking sanctuary. The High Priestess promised to protect them. And for the first time, hope bloomed in the hearts of many. They lit candles. They prayed. They celebrated."
Cassie fell quiet, her lips parting as though to speak, only to fall silent again. When she finally spoke, her words were gentle, sorrowful.
"That night, while the people rejoiced, she summoned me in secret. She handed me a sealed message and told me to deliver it to her old companion, Lord Noctis, far in the east. The message contained just three words: I am dead."
Klaus's brows rose, but he said nothing.
"I was horrified. What did she mean? She was a Transcendent. An oracle of immense power. What about her vow to protect these people?"
Cassie turned her face away, her expression unreadable.
"She simply smiled and told me that they were already dead. That it was kinder that way."
The room remained silent. The air itself seemed to still, as though holding its breath.
Cassie's expression softened as a wry smile bloomed on her face, tinged with faint amusement and disbelief.
"But, well… when I returned to my chambers to prepare for my departure, I was met with an unexpected sight. Lich was waiting for me—his hollow gaze as unbothered as ever. He explained that Klaus had sent him, along with Miseria."
Her blind eyes narrowed in amusement as she turned toward Klaus.
"His message was, and I quote—'Anyway, bones. Head north. Guard Cas, protect the people. And while you're at it, beat the ever-living shit out of Mordret. I think that's it. We'll regroup in sanctuary and figure out our next move. Peace, dickheads!'"
She laughed softly, a sound like wind brushing across forgotten ruins, and shook her head as if the memory still bewildered her.
"Truly eloquent, isn't he?" she added with playful sarcasm. "Anyway, we went to seek out the One in the North. Whether she was surprised to see me again or not, I couldn't tell. She wears indifference like a second skin—like a god who grew bored of the world eons ago. Lich, in his usual way, gave her a choice: obey Klaus's command… or die."
Cassie lifted a brow, clearly entertained.
"She didn't seem to care either way, so Lich… well…"
She cleared her throat and continued, almost sheepishly.
"He sealed her in a bottle and tossed it at me."
Effie's eyes bulged as she stared from Lich to Klaus and back again, utterly baffled.
"In a bottle?! How is that even possible!?"
Lich, without looking up from his tome, answered in a flat, dismissive tone.
"Sorcery."
Cassie chuckled under her breath and nodded at him before continuing.
"After that, Miseria revealed herself. She took it upon herself to manipulate the thoughts and emotions of the remaining population in the North—her spectral influence weaving through their minds like a gentle fog. Thanks to her, I was able to persuade them to evacuate without resistance. Meanwhile, Lich faced Mordret alone, halting his rampage before it could claim more lives…"
She trailed off for a moment, then tilted her head in mild curiosity toward the skeletal sorcerer.
"Lich… I never asked... but what happened during your battle?"
Lich groaned as he shifted, crossing his bony legs in exaggerated exhaustion. His voice practically dripped with irritation.
"I severed a portion of space from the outside world and trapped him there. Within that isolated village, I fought him. And—technically—I won."
He looked up then, hollow sockets glowing faintly with ghostly blue flame.
"Not that it was a simple fight. His cursed reflections mirrored me… so I was, quite literally, battling myself. One of them was even an Ascended Terror. He wasn't just fleeing—he was experimenting. Preparing a reflection powerful enough to one day challenge Klaus."
The lich sighed, shaking his head slowly.
"And it's not like I could destroy him outright. His reflections mimicked my abilities—my barriers, my seals. Just as I could imprison him, they could unravel my abilities. I was aware that while we clashed, another of his reflection was attempting to dismantle my barriers from the outside. The outcome was inevitable. So I bargained and salvaged something from the encounter. He offered me something valuable — information. In return, I spared his reflections and let him walk free, his strength intact."
With that, he closed his tome and set it aside with a dusty thud, the pale fire in his eyes flaring.
"Afterward, I transported the survivors—and their lethargic saint—southward, to the sanctuary of Noctis. And now, here we are. So stop asking questions, and kindly exclude me from your dramatic retellings. Tch… such tedium. Who cares what happened to you? If you want to die, just die already."
For a moment, there was stunned silence. The others stared at Lich in disbelief, mouths slightly ajar.
Klaus turned away to stifle his laughter, shoulders trembling with mirth.
Clearly, Lich wasn't built for playing nursemaid to a comatose oracle and a caravan of desperate souls.