Eighteen Times She Chose the Mortal Chapter 06
Cassia’s POV
I stumbled through the doors of our chambers.
Empty.
The scent of cedarwood that had always calmed me was gone.
There was only a cold, dead silence.
I tore through the inner chamber, ripping open his wardrobe, his desk, even looking under the bed.
Nothing. There was nothing.
Except for that cold, formal document on the table, he had left nothing behind.
The High Priest’s words twisted around my throat like a viper.
He took a fatal poison for me. His divine power was fading.
And I poured the only cure into a mortal with a scratched finger. Right in front of him.
What have I done?
I scrambled like a madwoman to the fireplace.
Just yesterday, I thought his calmness was just him sulking.
I shoved my hands into the hot ashes, digging frantically.
Through the searing pain, I pulled out a charred fragment of the enchanted portrait.
Only half of it remained. The edges were burned black.
It was him, eight years ago. Covered in blood, but shielding my wounded body with his own.
I had looked into his eyes and sworn that I would never let him suffer again.
Tears hit the ashes, turning them to mud.
No. I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t have been so cruel to him.
I was his partner! ‘The one he loved for eight years! I must have given him good things!
I crawled to my feet and ran, stumbling, into the storeroom.
I wrenched open the door to his weapon cabinet, desperate to find proof of my love. Anything to lie to myself with.
But the huge cabinet was empty. Except for his own worn longsword, and three small, lonely boxes in the corner.
My hands shook as I opened them.
Three identical, cheap, enchanted daggers.
The kind of trinket you could buy for a few coins at any street market.
The first year. The second. The third.
On every anniversary, I was with the mortal. And afterward, I would just buy one of these to shut him up.
Last night, when he took this dagger from me, he didn’t complain. He wasn’t jealous.
That wasn’t him being understanding.
That was the silence of a dead heart.
And what did I give Lycus?
A top-tier defensive bracer forged by Hephaestus himself.
A pouch filled with powerful wards.
Even the healing nectar that could have saved Aresion’s life!
I stared at the three cheap daggers and let out a broken, hideous laugh.
It grew louder, until it became a raw, soul-tearing sob.
I thought I needed Lycus because he was weak, because he depended on me.
It fed my ego. My vanity as the new, celebrated goddess of war.
And I used Aresion’s love for me as a weapon. I trampled his dignity without a second thought.
I thought he would always be there, waiting for me.
Only now, kneeling here and sobbing, did I finally understand. It wasn’t the mortal who destroyed our golden bond.
It was my own arrogance. My own selfishness.
But the most suffocating fear washed over me like ice water.
He drank from the Waters of Lethe.
No matter how pathetically I cry here, no matter how much I regret everything… he doesn’t remember.
In his world, all his love for me has already turned to nothing.
No. I won’t allow it.
I wiped away the tears and ash from my face.
I poured my remaining magic into the Iris-pool.
The stern face of the War Commander appeared.
“Cassia? A mind-link at this hour? What’s wrong?”
I stared into the pool, my voice ragged but absolute.
“Commander, I need to join the celestial armada sailing for the Endless Sea tomorrow. I need to make a stop at the Isle of Oblivion.”
The Commander stared.
Then, a deafening roar exploded from the pool.
“Are you insane?!”
He shot to his feet, his eyes blazing with shock and fury. “The Isle of Oblivion is your absolute taboo! Five years ago, you swore a blood oath on the River Styx never to set foot there again! If you go now, the divine retribution for breaking that oath will grind your bones to dust!”
I know.
I know all too well. The nightmare of that place still haunts me.
But I don’t care about any of that now.
“Commander, I’m begging you. Please approve it.”
I bowed my head, the proud head of the war goddess, for the first time in three years. My voice was bitter. Humble.
“For three years, I failed my partner. For a mortal’s ego, I nearly let him die after he took a blow for me.”
The tears came again. I choked them back, my head still bowed.
“He’s gone there now. He’s erased all our memories. I have to see him. Even if he’s forgotten everything, I have to win him back.”
The Commander was silent.
His sharp eyes stared at me, weighing this late, desperate regret.
The connection severed.
I knelt on the cold floor. The seconds felt like years.
After a full half hour, the connection reformed.
The Commander’s voice was cold, but it carried a single sliver of hope.
“The council has agreed. The gateway will open for you at dawn.”
I shot my head up, my eyes wild with joy.
But before I could thank him, the Commander’s final, unyielding warning came.
“But remember this. The moment you step onto the Isle of Oblivion, the backlash from your Styx oath will begin. Whether you live or die, that is the price you pay alone.”
