#cyrine avery

[bloody-avery]

        i sold my soul, it’s a dead end goal...

23 february 1980 tw: death, tw: parental death / tw: death of a parent,  tw: death of a spouse, tw: death of a sibling, tw: blood

                                        ...but there ain’t no turning back

There was a sort of sick satisfaction in it. 

It didn’t matter to Cassie how it had happened, or who’d done it ( though part of her wished it had been her, just for what they’d put her through ), or why it had been done at all. Darius had left, the four wands were in her possession, and Beni was unaware of it all as he slept upstairs. It was probably four in the morning; she’d lost track of time when Darius had come back for her. He’d given her the wands, offered her a hand up, and remained until she’d told him that he could go. She hadn’t needed his comfort. She didn’t need his council, didn’t need his protection more than he’d already given it. Darius Mulciber, always determined to be the antihero in her story. She didn’t know if she was thankful for him or not. 

But yes, she was satisfied. She could write her own story from here, choose her own fate. There was no one deciding who she should be anymore, no one telling her what to do or what to be or how to act. Widow, orphan, sister. She could be it all now. She could touch every part of her life with loss, and feel numb to it all. Cassandra Black still mourned her husband, but she was learning to live without him because she had to. Cassandra Avery would put on the face of a grieving daughter, as she was expected to, and finally be able to wear her grief for Regulus in public under the guise of an orphan. A business venture, she and Darius had decided on, her parents and brother were away on a business venture. It wasn’t unheard of; soon enough, they’d pass away in an ‘accident,’ and Cassie would bury their empty caskets like she’d done with Regulus, and she’d be free. 

Maybe there was an irony to burying empty caskets for her family.

Cassie got up from the sitting room and picked up the wands off the table before she walked upstairs. It was a simple and methodical process, walking through the rooms of her parents and her brother, banishing items that she thought they would take with them on a journey. Clothes, shoes, bags, papers. All gone with a flourish of her wand. A few items she kept, mementos of the lives she’d lost, things that she wanted to keep. Because she had loved them. It was odd that hate and love could exist at the same time, but it was the only way Cassie seemed to be capable of loving in. Darius, her parents, her brother, Regulus. She’d loved all of them-- loved them still-- but there was an anger in her directed at each one. Darius, for his violence. Her mother, for her coldness. Her father, for his apathy. Her brother, for his role as heir. Regulus, for being selfish enough to leave her. 

Whatever she wanted, she took, and carried all of it up to the tower room she’d disguised with Regulus. She hadn’t been up there in such a long time, it felt like she was walking into someone else’s room. Regulus had taught her how to punch up here, had held onto her as she’d lost her temper, lost the fragile control on her emotions and broken down. They’d argued up here, they’d fought, they’d laughed, they’d cried. Cassie put the items in a box next to the desk and looked at the books and papers she had across the room, at the punching dummy standing useless in the corner of the room. Part of her wanted to stay up here. She could be happy enough up here, hiding in her lost memories, taking comfort in the fragile images of the life she’d had that still held onto this place. This house was full of memories now. That was all it was full of. 

And Cassie couldn’t say she was sad about it. She was, she knew; some part of her grieved, and grieved fiercely, for those she’d lost. It should hurt more. It didn’t hurt enough, it hurt too much. Each one she’d lost had made her into who she was today. Daughter, wife, sister, soldier, traitor, Knight. Woman, girl, child, adult. There were too many identities trapped within her, and she didn’t know which still applied to her, and which had been lost in the revisions of who she thought she was supposed to be. 

She left the room and walked back down the stairs, and kept walking until she hit Beni’s room. He was asleep, still peaceful, and Cassie did her best not to disturb him as she tiptoed into his room and slid carefully onto the end of his bed. It was easy to curl up there and not disturb him; a king-sized bed had always seemed like a ridiculous thing to give a child, but give it they had, regardless of sense. Beni continued to sleep peacefully, and Cassie rolled onto her side with a small sigh. 

Daughter. No, she wasn’t a daughter anymore. She was an orphan, and she was okay with that. Wife. No, she was a widow now. Regulus was gone, and there was no such thing as a wife without a husband. One needed the other, they were part of a set, and she couldn’t call herself a wife when her husband was gone. So widow it was. Sister. She looked at Beni curled up, holding one of his pillows to his chest. She was still a sister. It didn’t matter that Calisto was gone; she was a sister to Beni, the most loyal and devoted member of the family to the boy, and she would remain so until her dying breath. Soldier. She looked down at the Dark Mark on her arm. She was still a soldier, even if she didn’t want to be. Traitor. There was no undoing what she’d done with Regulus; the treason would mar her pristine image for the rest of her life. She couldn’t even make herself regret it. Knight. It was the same as soldier; she would always be a Knight of Walpurgis. And if she ever forgot, she had the Dark Mark on her arm to remind her. Woman. Girl. Obvious ones; she didn’t need to consider those. Child, adult. She felt caught between the two, absurdly young and yet forced to be far older than she was. She was old enough to be an adult now, it didn’t matter she’d never gotten to be a child. Still, it was a facet of her life that she’d missed out on. It was a piece that she would make sure Beni got to have. 

Sleep was easier than it should be. Cassie closed her eyes and held on to her left hand, feeling her rings cold against her ring finger. She wanted Regulus here. She wanted him to hold her. She was alone, except for Beni now. There was no one else she cared about in the world like she had for them. And she didn’t know why, but it was the first night she slept easily. 

[bloody-avery]

II. ANGER

          16 november 1979

The Avery house had always felt like a warzone, but today especially, Cassandra was there to do battle. She was still a mess, not trying to conceal her grief, not trying to change it, or make it more palatable. Averys did not grieve; it was not something they did. They had a glass of champagne, and they moved on. Celebrate the life, admire the successes, and move on. Tears were unsightly. Grief was unsightly. Loss was inconvenient. 

“Cassandra, where the hell have you been?” Cyrine was up the moment Cassandra entered the sitting room, heels clicking as she all but thundered over to her daughter and grabbed her wrist. “We had to find out in the paper that Regulus was--”

“Dead?” Cassandra looked at her mother coldly. “Forgive me for not skipping to you the moment I found out so that we could make a plan. I didn’t want to make a plan, I don’t want to make a plan. I want to grieve. I want to tell Beni that he’s gone. Let me see him. I have to tell him first, and then we can talk.”

“That won’t be necessary, mija.” Cassandra looked up, and there was Eztebe standing at the door to the sitting room. He looked calm. He always looked calm, but Cassandra had never hated it like she did now. She wanted him to rage, wanted him to grieve, wanted him to show a fraction of the emotion that she felt in her heart. Show some ounce of emotion for his daughter’s loss. He took a few steps into the room towards her. “I’ve told him already.”

Cassandra didn’t move. “You did... what?”

Eztebe shook his head. “I told him,” he repeated. As if it was nothing. As if she should be grateful. “Regulus was his brother-in-law, Cassandra. He won’t be at the funeral; I saw no point in delaying--”

“Regulus named Beni his heir.”

Cyrine made a gagging noise behind her. Cassandra hoped she’d choked on her tongue, or her tea. She didn’t care which. Her mother wasn’t her focus; all attention was on her father, and the expression on his face as what she’d said slowly sank in. 

It was a fierce, ugly sort of pleasure to see his surprise replaced slowly with anger. 

“He can’t be heir.” He shook his head. “He’s--”

“What?” Cassandra snapped. “Too young? An Avery? Blind?” Her lip curled upwards in a snarl. “Regulus doesn’t-- he didn’t care about any of those things. All that he had he left to me, and to Beni. You have Calisto, your precious heir. You’ve made it clear that you can never have me as your heir because I’m a woman, and that Beni won’t even be recognized as part of the family--” Eztebe opened his mouth to object, but she raised her voice to drown him out. “--so now he’s part of mine.”

“You are an Avery, Cassandra,” Eztebe growled. Cassandra took a step towards him. 

“I was an Avery,” she told him, her voice a snarl. “I am and will continue to be Cassandra Eukene Black. I am going upstairs, I am telling Beni, and soon he will come to live with me so that I can raise him to take over the Black family name and responsibilities. No more excuses. No more keeping him locked up here. He is my brother, he is my husband’s heir. He will act and be treated as such, and that is final.” She didn’t wait for a reply; she pushed past Eztebe and ran up the stairs two at a time. Beni’s room was up the stairs and through a labyrinth of hallways. She hurried down them. 

The closer she got, the louder the screams became. 

Beni’s door rattled on its hinges, already thrown open. Cassandra ran the last several feet into Beni’s room, and stopped dead when she turned the corner. 

She’d never seen Beni truly angry. Not once had she ever seen him throw a tantrum, not once had he been anything but quiet, and gentle. 

And now his room was in tatters. 

“Beni--” She stepped forward.

Beni was curled up on the floor, shoulders shaking. His face was streaked with tears, and the air around him felt electrified. Books had been torn apart, furniture knocked over. The door to his vanishing cabinet had been snapped in half. 

“I want to talk to Regulus.” He shook his head stubbornly and reached his hand up to wipe at his face. “I want to talk to Regulus.”

“Beni, he’s gone--”

“No!” Another book flew off the shelf and slammed into the wall above Cassandra’s head. She swatted it aside so it didn’t hit her. It fell to the floor with a decisive crack. Cassandra looked back at Beni. “I’m not going anywhere, I want Regulus!”

“He’s not coming back. I’m sorry, he’s not--”

“Go away!”

Cassandra’s heart dropped. “Beni--”

“Leave me alone!” Beni buried his face in his hands. Cassandra took a step back, then another. Beni seemed to collapse in on himself, falling back into despair... she kept stepping back until she hit the wall across the hallway from his room. Beni screamed again, and his cries were echoed by her own. Eventually, they would tire themselves out, eventually, there would be no more grief left. 

But not before there was nothing left of the east wing of the manor but ash and torn pages.