I reach Cassandra before anyone else.

She lies against the stone where the shockwave threw her, her body broken in ways I can see without touching.

The angle of her spine, the dark spread of blood pooling from the back of her head where skull met rock. Her blade has fallen from her hand, Mintian steel glinting uselessly three feet away.

Her eyes are open.

She’s staring at the sky, and the fury is gone from her face. In its place is something I never thought I’d see — confusion. Pure bewilderment, as if the world has rearranged itself into a pattern she never learned to recognize.

I drop to my knees beside her. My hands are shaking, covered in moonlight that won’t stop flowing. The power that did this to her still pulses through my veins, mocking me with its presence.

I did this. I killed my sister.

The damage is catastrophic, and I can see it in the stillness of her legs, the way her chest barely rises. Nothing can undo what the shockwave did to her body.

But I reach for her anyway, touch her face with fingers that glow silver, stroke the hair from her forehead: hair the same silver-blonde as our father’s, the same shade that marked us both as daughters of the blue blood.

“I’m sorry,” the words pour out of me, broken and desperate. “I’m sorry, Cassandra. I didn’t mean to do this. The power just happened, and I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it from hurting you.”

Cassandra’s eyes move. They find my face with effort, and something in her expression shifts. The confusion doesn’t leave, but it reshapes itself around recognition.

“Evelyn…” Her voice is a whisper, broken but clear. “You’re crying.”

Tears are running down my face, cutting tracks through the blood and ash. I hadn’t even noticed.

“I just killed you. I killed my sister, and I didn’t want to, I was trying to—”

“You were trying to save me.” Cassandra’s lips curve into something that might be a smile if it weren’t so full of pain. “That’s almost funny… Father would be furious if he knew.”

“I don’t care about Father, I care about you. I’ve always cared about you, even when you were trying to destroy me. You’re my sister, Cassandra. You were supposed to live through this.”

A wet cough escapes her. Blood flecks her lips, dark against pale skin.

“The prophecy…” Her voice is fading, each word softer than the last. “The witch said… the stronger one would break the cycle. It was supposed to be me. Father promised it would be me.”

“Father twisted the prophecy to serve his hatred. He used you, Cassandra. He made you into a weapon because he couldn’t face that his own cruelty created the very thing he feared.”

“I know that now,” her eyes drift, then focus again with visible effort. “I think I always knew, but believing him was easier than believing I was built on a lie. He told me every day of my life that I was the weapon and you were the target. I believed him, Evelyn. I wanted to believe him.”

“That’s why I wanted to save you. You were a victim too.”

Her hand moves. It takes everything she has — I can see the effort in her face, the way her jaw tightens against pain — but she reaches for mine. A reflex, maybe, or something deeper. Something our father never managed to burn out completely.

I take her hand, hold it between both of mine, moonlight and blood mingling on our skin.

“I’m here, I’m not leaving you. You don’t have to die alone.”

“I’ve been alone my whole life,” her fingers twitch against mine, trying to grip and failing. “No friends or connections, only the mission. Only you, always you, the sister I was supposed to destroy. Do you know how much time I spent thinking about you? Planning your death, imagining your face when I finally won?”

“She is gone, Evelyn, I am sorry.” Aspis finally talks to me again.

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