Page 125 of Remnants: Disruption
“Cassandra Alta,” she says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Chapter 47
Answers
November 14th, 1030 A.D., Morning
Europe is gone. Not the landmass, per se–though a lot of that is gone, too. The cities, the structures, the forests are all gone. Leveled. Decimated by the Disruptions and buried by wars that broke out after. New America only survived because of DAEMON’s diligence.
New America, lecture given by Dr. Damien Roberts, III, 1030 A.D.
Light floods my senses as my eyes flit open. It takes a moment, but then my ears begin to work, too.
“She’s waking, doctor,” someone says softly. “Shall I get the God Queen?”
“Yes,” another feminine voice answers.
Two pairs of footsteps recede as another pair clacks faster down some sort of hardened floor.
“Arya?” a voice whispers, sounding muted and tired.
I finally manage to get an eyelid open and find Mary—Cassandra—staring down at me. Her pale face and full lips are a welcomed sight considering everything that just happened.
“Present,” I groan, reaching up a hand to rub at my eye. “Why do I keep ending up in the hospital.”
“Technically we are in my quarters,” Cassandra says, sounding a bit nervous. “I am not yet certain if Loki and Beowulf’s loyalists have been purged. And they are not the only enemies within.”
“It’s comfy,” I say, wriggling a little in the bed.
And lavish.
The room, as my eyes begin to adjust to the light, is twice the size of the one I’d woken up in the second time. There’s a wood-burning fireplace directly across from the four-poster bed I’m splayed in. A series of bookshelves adorned with gold and other jewels line the room, each filled with books of all sizes and colors. Two comfortable reading chairs sit in the corner with a coffee table between them.
“So thatwasn’ta hallucination, then?” I ask, peering at her. “I didn’t imagine you kissing me and telling me you’re into me?”
“Do you find yourself thinking about me that much?” Cassandra asks, her lip quirking. “I am honored. But no, it was not a hallucination.
Cassandra sits to my right, eyes still watching me with a slight bit of nerves, despite the humor in her voice.
“Cassandra,” I say, feeling the name weirdly on my tongue. “Do you mind if I call you Cass?”
She sort of startles like she didn’t remember giving me her name, but nods.
“You are the only living person who knows it. I would prefer to keep it that way,” she says, sounding trepidatious.
“Sure,” I nod. Warmth floods my chest at the honor. “How many days this time?”
Cass smiles before nodding at the bedside table where there are a handful of files.
“Two. I brought you these, though, to look over when you feel better.”
“I feel fine,” I say, slowly pushing myself seated. “I keep picking fights with the types of people that can knock out my healing.”
Cass tilts her head a little, studying me.
“You should not have accelerated healing. Nothing in our records says you do.”
I frown at her as I reach for the stack.
