AN: A short exploration of the way Cassius Bright thinks. This is me just dipping my toes into the world of fanfiction. I would love constructive criticism though I know this is much too short for that.
Cassius is always torn between his family and the world. Sometimes he doesn't want the skill and renown that he has because he wants to be happy with the last person in his family, his child, Estelle but there is a part of him that loves to help others. Loves the glory and loves the truth. He can't stop himself. But every time he has to be separated from his family he has to drink to stop the images of him coming home to a grave rather than his child. He can still remember the relief and happiness as the Erebonian Empire released a statement of surrender only for his world to crash, shatter, and burn with him coming home after a long while only to find an empty house, a grave, and a silent child.
He has been wounded many times on the field-he went to war! Of course, he would have been wounded at some point. But this. This was beyond any pain that any wound could have ever given him. As he looks up the sky just outside their house, he is ever thankful to the Mayor for keeping his daughter alive. And isn't that the other icing on the cake? He couldn't even take care of her daughter.
He couldn't stay in the military. That much he has swallowed like a bitter pill chased down by a gallon of alcohol.
That much he has swallowed like a bitter pill chased down by a gallon of alcohol.
The military. The very place that kept him from his wife as she and their child suffered-the place that will keep on separating him from his child.
He downs another drink. He wonders when the bone crushing pressure in his chest will stop.
He holds up his katana and the moonlight glints upon its sharpened edge and Cassius couldn't stop the tears again. His wife. Dead. His daughter. Unresponsive to him. He wonders if Estelle hates him for what happened to her mother. He wonders how he can fix it. He wonders if he even can.
He tries to bring the glass to his mouth again but even that is against him. He spills the drink all over himself and the wooden floors of their house's patio. The alcohol seeped through the wood and he knew he'll hate the stain it will leave. Rena always cleans up any spills. She loves their hous-no. Cleaned. Loved. No more present tense. Everything was-should-be in past tense now. He refills his glass and succeeds this time in burning his throat with the clear liquid.
This isn't working. He stares at the 3rd bottle of vodka. It's nearly empty but he's not any close to forgetting.
The katana was still in his other hand. He looks at it and he wonders if it's the alcohol but he couldn't stop seeing blood and death.
How many people has he wounded-killed-with that blade? How many people have been and are now grieving the death of a spouse-a death he delivered to them with that blade. As he turns the blade, he thinks of Rena's death. She might as well have been his kill. His hands tremble and he shakes his head.
Rena would kill him if he thinks like that.
He puts the katana in its sheath where it has been left unused for so long.
He wants to be happy with the last person in his family but he craves the glory. The ability to help others. The world. He should have bought more vodka.
He stares at the nearly empty bottles again. Tomorrow he needs to leave his daughter again. He empties the bottle into his throat without bothering with the glass.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'll face her blank face. Tomorrow he'll hope for a smile. Tomorrow he'll hug her before he leaves. Tomorrow he'll choose the world. But that's all for tomorrow. For now he needs to chase away the images of finding his daughter in a grave beside his wife's when he returns. As he walks back into the house to find another bottle or two. Or five. He sees the bo staff he just purchased. It was a lot smaller than his own staff that was leaning beside it against a wall.
He's been planning on giving it to Estelle.
He stares at it. It sobers him up.
He bought the small staff without much thought when he saw it. A connection between his choice to never spill blood again-to fight only to protect-and the most precious thing left in his life, Estelle. Only now, under the moonlight, with enough alcohol to remove his inhibitions and think of his wife's death, his new oath, his daugther, his daugther's future, and his place in his life all at the same time, does he truly understand himself.
He wants her to know how to fight but he wants her to never have the experience of spilling blood.
He wants her to face the world with a smile.
He wants her to be able to fight the things the world throws at her with everything she had.
He wants her to never feel helpless.
He wants her to be able to protect the things she will find precious to her.
And he wants to be the one to get her there.
Sober and thinking clear, he gets his staff and makes his way to the guild's office. It's in the middle of the night but the Bracer's guild does not close. Aina won't appreciate him backing out on the mission he was taken but he'll haggle with her to send another bracer or a group to Bose instead. He'll even offer to get all the Rolent based missions.
He needs to stay a little longer in Rolent. He has a personal mission now.
Cassius has always been torn between his family and the world but now, as he walks the path in the dark, he is confident there is a path where he does not need to choose only one.
~o~
That was not the last time that glass was used for alcohol. Nor was that the last spill of alcohol on that patio. Neither was it the last time tears would track their way through his cheeks. His new drive doesn't stop the images of a dead daugther upon his return. Neither does it stop his grief for the death of his wife. He still drinks the night before he has to be separated from his family to chase away those images.
But it was different.
So different.
He wasn't a helpless man drowning in sorrow. Trying to keep his head above water.
He's now a man on a mission.
His child will learn to protect. Because if there is one thing he learned from protecting-serving-others, it is that you learn to love them too. And love-Love-is a force he understands.