(BL) The Villain wants a Divorce!

Cass set to work researching more magic since Sam wasn’t around and he needed something to fill his time as he waited for the test to approach.

Sam hadn’t been pleased when he’d heard what Cass had agreed to do. He’d tried to convince him not to, but Cass wasn’t going to budge. Sam realised it rather quickly, and with an upset expression, he’d asked Cass if he could at least change him out of the white undershirt since he had a feeling that this was going to go poorly.

Cass had agreed, so he’d changed and in the time that it took for him to do so, the maid that Cass had told Lady Fiona that she could send arrived. Cass had chuckled at her predictability, but then he’d composed himself.

So, he was alone, practising magic while he waited for Sam to finish preparing his meal.

It was a little bit funny to him how worried Sam, Sir Forsythe and Byron were for him. Cass barely knew them, and it wasn’t as if Lord Blackburn was kind to any of them. He only kept them around because they had passed the test he’d given them. Or, Lord Blackburn had given them.

Cass only kept them around because this was a fucking castle and he needed to have people in a place like this. Otherwise he wouldn’t survive on his own. He couldn’t just waltz into the servants quarters and make a quick meal. It would not go down well.

Especially since he was apparently so fucking picky.

Cass was actually a little excited to see what happened. Lord Blackburn’s memories when it came to food were...blocked. It was the easiest way that he could describe it.

In fact, there were several avenues of memories that were ’blocked’. Cass had no idea why, but for some reason there were some things he couldn’t access. Magic and food were one of them, as well as some, not all, of Lord Blackburn’s childhood memories.

There had to be more that were blocked, he just didn’t know because he hadn’t encountered them yet. It was frustrating, and confusing. It almost felt like someone was intentionally blocking his access to them, but that didn’t make any sense.

In most stories like this, there were a couple of outcomes when it came to taking over a body. The first was that the soul of the previous owner had moved on. That could mean one of two things. You received all of the memories, or none of them. None of this half memory bullshit.

The second was that the soul still remained in the body. That was more rare, but still had the two lane outcome of either all the memories or none of them. In this one there was the fun reality of the memories not being accurate because the soul could play around with them, but there was also usually a sign that the soul was still around.

Cass hadn’t gotten a single whiff of Lord Blackburn still being here. The ’gods’ hadn’t spoken as if he had remained behind either, so it was safe for Cass to assume that he was gone. Where had he gone? Cass had no idea.

Maybe he’d made a deal with those fuckers as well.

He at least hoped that if he had made a deal, that he’d gotten a better deal then Cass.

Cass was leaning more towards the first option, but couldn’t understand why his memories were only partial if that was the case. Did the ’gods’ have the power to withhold Lord Blackburn’s memories from him? Was it something like he needed to get a certain portion of the quest given to him and then he could unlock more memories? That seemed....

Really fucking stupid, if he was honest.

Why would you lock memories that would be important to completing the quest you wanted him to do? Especially behind more quests? If he’d had control over his magic, the whole situation with Draken and the others wouldn’t have happened.

At the same time, Cass would have grown too trusting of them and they would have had the chance to stab him in the back at a different time. So, maybe it was a good thing that it happened so early, even if his shoulder still throbbed with pain periodically.

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the book in his hand and raised an open palm, facing upward. He read over the chant a few more times before he took a few deep, calming breaths before speaking the chant out loud.

Nothing happened.

Cass kept his cool. This wasn’t going to be easy, not with the way his body currently was. He knew that. Lord Blackburn was a genius and didn’t need basic books. He just looked, and apparently magic happened. Cass knew he had the capacity for it, since his magic had almost surged, he just needed to learn how to wield it.

He was approaching it as if it was a science, or a mathematical equation. Those were easy concepts for him to grasp. He felt that he and Lord Blackburn were similar in that regard.

”Come on Lord Blackburn. Don’t let me down.” Cass whispered to himself as he waited. It was more concerning if you kept chanting the same spell out loud over and over since it could cause a different kind of a problem. It could make sure that the spell failed, and with so much magical energy in the room, it could cause a huge explosion.

Cass had read about that and promised he would never do that, so he was a one chant and done kind of guy.

Today, it appeared to work as a small pool of water filled his hand and Cass felt his face break out into a wide smile. It was something he’d never experienced before, and the cool, wet liquid in his hand filled his chest with so much joy he didn’t know what to do.

”This is so fucking cool.” Cass muttered, his whole body trembling as he felt it drop through his fingers and onto the carpet below. ”I can use fucking magic.” Cass whispered. ”She’d be so fucking jealous.” He froze when the words left his lips.

Yes. His sister would be incredibly jealous of his new powers. She would even be jealous of the clothes, the house, the food, everything at his fingertips. She was the kind of girl who’d be grateful for everything.

Cass was the one who’d gotten hard. For the both of them. He was the spitfire. The one who told the creepy adults to fuck off, who got in trouble with the law. The one who wouldn’t let anyone near them if they had bad intentions.

He could just imagine her sitting in the loveseat, clapping her hands in excitement at his success.

Cass took a shaky breath in, clenching the hand full of liquid and watching as it spilled and dripped all over the carpet below him. Fuck.

He really, really missed her. This was so fucking hard. There was a reason he’d been so partial to Lady Fiona. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, and it felt like no one here even liked him.

They liked the thought of him, but he couldn’t be authentically himself. He had to be Lord Blackburn. Though it was clear that he and Lord Blackburn weren’t too different in personality, there was still a difference.

Cass was loud, he was brash. He didn’t keep everything inside like Lord Blackburn did. Lord Blackburn was like fucking Elsa from Frozen. He kept everything inside until he eventually would explode, and Cass took that explosion to be the stealing of the relic and everything that followed that.

Cass felt stifled. He felt contained. He felt lonely.

He’d never felt lonely before, not like this. He’d always been a loner, but he was still close to his sister. They might not have lived together anymore, but he was over whenever she had a free moment or she needed help. And she almost always needed help.

It didn’t matter that she was older, he was their protector. Lord Blackburn was an only child, and he had no one close to him that he could treat in the same way.

Fuck. He couldn’t even have one good moment before it felt like it got snatched from him. This time it wasn’t due to anyone else interfering, it was his own damn mind. Cass wanted to kick himself, but instead, he tucked the book back into its place on the shelf before he glanced over at the loveseat sat in the sun.

It was almost like she was there, smiling at him.

Turning, he went to the desk, pulled out the chair and got to work on some of the back piled Blackburn estate papers. It was something easy that he could use to distract him. At least until Sam or Byron came to let him know the test was ready.

The shuffling of papers filled the air as Cass set to work, ignoring the aching in his chest and the soft illusion of laughter filling his ears.