Mysteries

Cassia and the Fire Keepers had spent two months in the Desecrated Grove, searching tirelessly for a living root of a sapling. Deep underground, they found what they sought. This sapling would eventually grow into the wondrous tree that could keep the ancient ship afloat in the sky.

Everything was progressing as she had planned. With the ancient ship, she and the Fire Keepers would possess an additional tool of immense power—one that would be invaluable when Nephis returned.

Yet, unease gnawed at her. Everything was... too easy. Notes had been left behind in the Desecrated Grove, detailing the flying ship. Cassia studied them, her brow furrowing. According to the notes, the time to repair the ship would be cut down drastically, thanks to the knowledge they provided.

["The ship's enchantments were powered by a sacred tree from the Heart God's Grove. A sapling must be found to replace the tree. There are three ways to repair the enchantment of the flying vessel: using a key, being a locksmith, or brute force.

1. The key is detailed knowledge of the original enchantment of the flying ship.

2. The second way is to be a locksmith who understands the structure of any lock on a deep level. This allows one to pick it without a key.

3. The third way is brute force—using materials of great power to compensate for the lack of knowledge.

Kybernetes are needed to steer the ship. If my calculations are correct, my ritualistic magic can mimic the same effect, but it will require soul shards as fuel—inefficient. The sapling remains the most effective solution.

Long ago, the Sky Below was filled with divine flame. There were daredevils who dove into the ocean of immolating fire to harvest it. This is the last remaining vessel in their fleet: the Fire Hunters.

Flying ships were invented during the Age of Heroes. The creator of their blueprint is unknown, but they must have been a being of immense wisdom and imagination—someone I can respect and admire.

Such a vessel was also used by Noctis. His name was given to the Sanctuary of Noctis in his honor. Noctis was one of the seven immortals bound by the shackles of an imprisoned daemon. He was the mysterious Lord of the East. His great-grandmother was the Goddess of the Moon. Noctis is of the blood of the Moon, the Beast God, and the God of Hunters.

Author: Oldest Dream."]

Cassia's gaze lingered on the words. Again, this 'Oldest Dream.' Who—what—is it? Is it male or female? How does it know so much? And what is this 'Ritualistic Magic'? Did it create its own sorcery? Her mind swirled with questions, unanswered and unrelenting. She hated the uncertainty, the way it clawed at her composure.

But it wasn't just the mystery of this being that unsettled her. Mordret, the Prince of Nothing, knew of it too. He'd explored the Chain Isles; it wouldn't be surprising if he had found records about the Oldest Dream as well.

She sighed, shaking her head. There's nothing to be done about it now. Not yet.

She could see future. But even so, the future felt unpredictable. The path she had envisioned for herself and the Fire Keepers was shifting in ways she couldn't control, and it was unsettling. The only thing she could do now was return to the waking world and push forward, as always.

____

After waking up, Cassia dressed quickly, though not without some frustration. A long-sleeved white blouse with a neckline, black elegant high-waisted wide-leg pants, a black button-front belted coat, and high heels...

Wasting soul essence on something as trivial as dressing up...

Being blind was still an inconvenience, even if she could see a few seconds into the future. Shaking her head, she made her way downstairs to the living room.

"Mom, Dad... I'm heading out for some business. Don't—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

Klaus?

What was he doing here? She didn't have time for this obnoxious asshole.

Klaus, lounging comfortably on the couch like he owned the place, turned his head and smirked. His gaze swept over her outfit, and his grin widened in obvious satisfaction.

"Charmed," he said smoothly.

Cassia's mother chuckled in amusement. Her father, on the other hand, was glaring daggers at Klaus.

Cassia, seething, grabbed Klaus by the collar and all but dragged him out of the house, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

"Farewell, my fair lady! Ahh! Wait, Cas! Slow down!" Klaus yelped, stumbling behind her.

Once they were outside, she shot him an annoyed glare.

"Teleport us out of here. Now."

Klaus sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Such a cold, ruthless woman… Fine, fine."

In an instant, they vanished—reappearing in a park.

Klaus turned to her, raising a brow. "Alright, what's wrong? Did you miss me so much you just had to have me all to yourself?"

Cassia sighed, already exhausted. First the notes, and now him.

"You do realize I don't always have free time, right? I'm busy. I can't just drop everything whenever you decide to show up. And it's not like you can waltz in and do whatever you want without asking me."

Klaus smirked, folding his arms behind his head as he strolled lazily beside her.

"Yeah, yeah… Of course. Pftt… Hahaha. Well, darling," he drawled, "I can do whatever I want. What's stopping me?"

Cassia looked at him in disbelief. She wanted to point out that there were people far more powerful than him who could do exactly that. Masters would struggle, but they could still handle him. Saints could crush him like a bug. Sovereigns? They'd breathe in his direction, and he'd cease to exist.

But… she also knew that not even the strongest humans could force Klaus to do something he didn't want to do. The bastard was that stubborn.

"...Fine. But I'm really busy, Klaus. We can't fool around like usual."

Klaus just shrugged, reaching out his hand. A bottle of juice flew toward him, landing perfectly in his grasp. He didn't even glance back. His abilities were... surprisingly perfect for stealing things.

Cassia shot him a dark look.

He cracked open the bottle with an easy smirk. "Relax, you won't die from having fun. And I have important business too."

Cassia frowned, tilting her head slightly. "Important business?"

Before he could take a sip, she plucked the juice from his hand, casually sipping it herself. One hand on her hip, she smirked.

Stealing from him was... fun.

Wait.

No.

She scowled at herself. Damn it, this bastard is rubbing off on me.

"So?" she asked, arching a brow.

Klaus grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Ahh, my little wolf has grown up so well."

She narrowed her eyes. "Klaus—"

"Well," he interrupted, still grinning, "since I've already met your family, I figured it's only fair you meet mine."

Cassia blinked.

His family?

His sister?

Oh, she knew his sister. That woman had left a very strong impression. Of a complete bitch.

But his brothers? She knew nothing about them.

She let out a long, suffering sigh. "Ughhh, fine."

Klaus beamed, as if she had just agreed to marry him.

"Oh, Cassia," he cooed dramatically, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "This is truly a momentous occasion—"

She promptly shoved him off.

He laughed. "See? I knew you couldn't resist spending more time with me."

Cassia just rolled her eyes, but despite herself… she wasn't as annoyed as she pretended to be.

Klaus grabbed Cassia and vanished from the park.

By now, she was used to it. The first few times? Gods, she had fought to hold back the urge to vomit. But now? Now it was just another Tuesday.

When her vision adjusted, her eyes widened in awe—and disbelief.

This was… Beauté du Passé.

One of the most beautiful—no, the most beautiful—districts of NQSC. And not just anywhere in it. This was Bourbon Street.

Wild. Untamed. Luminous.

Cassia had heard of it. A place that clung to culture and refused to be buried. The streets pulsed with life. Bars and clubs spilled music into the air, their neon lights painting everything in vibrant colors. There was an energy here, something that made people feel alive—something raw, electric, real.

Cassia, silent but fascinated, took it all in.

Klaus smirked at her reaction, amused, before taking her hand and leading her toward a bar. "Come on," he said. "Diego has to be here. He should be back from the Dream Realm by now."

Cassia followed him, still glancing around in wonder.

Inside, the bar was lively and unique, filled with a mix of people dancing, drinking, and talking. The atmosphere was chaotic but inviting.

And then there was the music.

Cassia frowned. "What kind of music is that?"

Klaus blinked, then looked toward the source of the noise.

His face went blank.

Cassia followed his gaze—

And then she saw him.

There, standing on top of a table, dancing like an absolute maniac, screaming at the top of his lungs, was Diego.

And he was singing.

No.

No, he was butchering a song.

"I LIKE TO MOVE IT, MOVE IT!

I LIKE TO MOVE IT, MOVE IT!

I LIKE TO MOVE IT, MOVE IT!

YA LIKE TO (MOVE IT!)"

Cassia stared.

Diego, drunk out of his mind, was shaking his hips with a cheap plastic crown on his head—one that looked suspiciously like King Julien's from Madagascar.

The worst part? The crowd loved it.

People were cheering. They were clapping along. Some joined in.

Cassia turned to Klaus, her expression utterly lost.

"...Who is that? And what is he singing?"

"It's a funny song," she added, as if that somehow helped.

Klaus groaned and dragged a hand down his face. His soul left his body for a moment.

"...That's my brother."

Cassia gave him a long look, her brow furrowing.

Klaus, still looking like he was suffering, motioned toward Diego with a blank stare, grimacing.

Diego, oblivious, continued—

"PHYSICALLY FIT, PHYSICALLY FIT!

PHYSICALLY, PHYSICALLY, PHYSICALLY FIT!"

Klaus, despite his usual fondness for all things old and nostalgic—Dracula, Frankenstein, and the like—felt his soul slowly wither away. Movies like those, with their true, gritty emotions, were treasures compared to the propaganda-filled dreck that gripped the world today. Heroic sacrifices of awakened warriors and the triumph of the indomitable human spirit were fine... but this? Diego's singing was pure, unfiltered insanity. It was his greatest mistake to ever show his siblings the relics of a bygone culture.

Klaus finally turned back to Cassia.

"He's... uh..."

He gestured to his head with a circle of his finger. The universal signal for 'he's a little... off.'

Cassia, ever the observer, blinked. "...I see."

Meanwhile, Diego had grabbed a random stranger from the crowd and was now forcing them into an impromptu duet.

Cassia looked back at Diego, who was now attempting some kind of dramatic hip thrust maneuver, while the crowd cheered.

Cassia tilted her head, processing that information. "...And the song?"

Klaus closed his eyes. "It's called Move It."

Silence.

Cassia just stared.

Klaus gave her a long, suffering look before sighing, defeated.

"It's an ancient song. From a movie. A children's movie." He dragged a hand down his face. "A very old movie. I'm really not sure how anyone's still listening to this. The younger generation doesn't even know what Madagascar is—"

"Madagascar?" Cassia interrupted.

Klaus paused, his face contorting slightly as he tried to explain. "It's... a place. And a movie. A movie, Cassia. Before dark age and nightmare spell."

He gestured at Diego, who was now dramatically pointing at a random woman in the audience and singing, "Woman ya cute and you don't need no make-up!"

Cassia raised an eyebrow.

"...Huh," she said. "It's… fun."

Klaus groaned and rubbed his forehead. "Ahh... Fuck my life."