Echoes of Cain
Asir POV:
The palace trembled with quiet power. The kind that came from things unspoken from polished stone floors that echoed like judgment, from guards who smiled as they watched us kneel. The kind that taught you how to bow without cracking.
The kind that birthed boys like him.
Prince Cain stood beneath the carved red pillar of the Porcelain Room, his armor polished, his white cloak trailing behind him like a wound to clean to bleed.
« You. » His voice carried without rising. « The one with the flute. »
My hands tightened around the instrument. Around the blade within it.
I stepped forward, eyes cast down. « Yes, my prince »
« Play »
I played.
And as my song poured out, smooth and mournful, I saw him watching-not the way men watched us, but like he was listening through the music, following the mourning story. He looked lost, looking for something broken, something painful.
« I am sorry… » he whispered before going back.
Later that day, Mei found a bag of rice beneath the laundry. Enough to feed twelve of us for two days.
Cain had left it. The girls keeping a watch at our chambers had seen him. Since then, he has never stopped. He never talked about it, and we never did.
He always made sure we had enough, just enough.
If he couldn't stop by, then it was Kais, the mountain heart soldier as the girls named him- would « loose » his keys for days before coming back asking for them. It was just enough time to use them and steal what we needed for our plan. He always helped but never talked much.
Another day, it would be Roshan- the joyful soldier with a crooked smile- would « forget » a map beneath the tea table after spending some time narrating stories to the girls.
None of them ever said the words. But their silence became language.
A promise.
---
My twin sister's name was Aliya.
Everyone made sure to call me that.
Especially the palace staff. Especially the guards.
Except him.
Cain had always watched me like he knew something no one else did. Not with suspicion—something worse. Curiosity.
It happened one dusk beneath the shadow of the inner wall. I'd been sent to deliver a tray of herbs to the infirmary, my head bowed as I passed through the narrow corridor. But he was already there, leaning against the stone with that unreadable expression he wore too well.
I kept my eyes down, said nothing. Tried to move past him.
"Stop," he said.
I froze.
He stepped forward. "You don't belong here."
I forced a small laugh. "I go where I'm told."
He tilted his head, looking me over in a way that felt too familiar. "You walk too quietly. Watch too much. Flinch like someone waiting for a blade."
I tightened my grip on the tray, trying to avoid his gaze. "I'm just a maid."
"Are you?"
Something in his tone made me snap. I turned too quickly, my elbow knocking the tray to the ground, herbs scattering across the cobbles. "I said, I'm a maid," I bit out, voice cracking slightly.
His eyes flicked down to my stance. I didn't even realize it—how I'd shifted my weight of my feet, how my hands had curled, not in fear, but readiness.
"You're not trained," he said, tone flat. "But you're not helpless either."
I swallowed hard.
"Say your name."
My breath caught. "You already know it. I'm Aliya."
"No." His eyes darkened just a fraction. "Say your real name."
I stared at him, heart racing. I didn't know why I shook my head—why it felt like the most dangerous thing I'd ever been asked.
His voice dropped even lower. "Say it."
My chest rose, fell. Then—
"…Asir."
The name felt like an old wound torn open. Like breathing for the first time.
Cain didn't flinch. Didn't look surprised.
"My sister was Aliya," I said softly.
Cain studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke quietly, almost as if to himself.
"You're not trained… but there's a blade in you, hidden under all that silk."
I looked away, swallowing hard.
Then, just as I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.
"Come back here. Before sunrise. North courtyard."
I turned back, frowning, my heart hammering. "Why?"
He met my gaze—calm, steady, unreadable.
"So, you don't break the day someone forces you to fight back."
His gaze changed and his eyes softened. And there was Cain, the true Cain not the prince he made everyone believe he was, the prince his father wanted him to be. The heartless prince.
« I'll help you find freedom » He whispered so that only I could hear him.
That was the day I knew: Cain didn't belong either.
He left after that, not before handing me the blossom flower that he twirled while talking to me all this time. It was a promise. He wasn't going to talk.
Cain never asked about us, about the clan that was lost. He didn't need to. He already knew. His father had done enough damage that words weren't necessary; the destruction spoke for itself.
But Cain wasn't a fool. He understood more than most thought. When he found the hidden corridor behind the storeroom—the one where we'd stashed the blades we'd forged and hoarded over the years, hoping for a day when we might be strong enough to rise again—he didn't look away.
Instead, he sealed it once more. Not with the same ease as before, but tighter, more careful. As if to protect not just the blades, but the memories and the promise of those who had fallen.
And then, he placed a single pressed blossom inside, beneath the lid of the compartment. No words, no explanation—just the delicate flower, pressed between the pages of an unspoken understanding.
I saw. I understand. I will not betray you.
It wasn't a vow spoken aloud, but in that moment, his actions spoke louder than anything his voice could have ever said. And despite the weight of my doubts, despite the walls that had been built around my heart, I couldn't help but feel that, for the first time, Cain had chosen to act differently. Chosen to stand on a line between his duty and his own beliefs. Not for glory or for honor—but for something deeper. Something more personal. And in the quiet of that gesture, I saw a flicker of the trust I'd been so hesitant to offer.
---
Mei had once been assaulted, a cruel scar on her beautiful face. I couldn't protect her. I wasn't strong enough. I had fought, I tried to fight, but in the chaos, I was overpowered. One of the soldiers had gotten behind me, and before I knew it, his hand was around my throat, choking the life out of me. I could barely breathe, my vision starting to fade. Mei's desperate shouts were all I could hear as I fought for air.
But then, out of nowhere, two soldiers appeared. They came out of the shadows like a storm, moving with precise violence. I later realized that one of them was Kais, and the other was Roshan. Without hesitation, they dispatched the soldiers holding us. Roshan's blade was swift, while Kais's strikes were calculated, cutting through the enemies like a sharp wind.
In an instant, the soldiers who had been tormenting us were on the ground.
When I was finally able to draw in a full breath, I coughed, gasping for air. I had almost been helpless. But Mei had fought too, her resolve unshaken.
I was useless.
Kais and Roshan stood over us, watching with a mix of concern and indifference, as if this was something they had done countless times before. But I saw it in their eyes—they weren't just soldiers. They were something else.
When Cain found me, still shaken and trying to recover beside the river, he didn't speak right away. He didn't try to comfort me with empty words. He simply sat beside me, his presence quiet but strong.
He stayed there.
I didn't know how long we sat like that before I finally broke the silence.
"I should have been stronger," I said quietly, my voice trembling.
Cain didn't respond at first. He just watched me, as though waiting for me to keep going.
"I can help you become stronger," he finally said, his voice steady and sincere. "If you want."
"Meet me at midnight every day," he added, his words firm, yet without any sense of demand. "I'll be waiting, Asir."
"Cain, why are you risking your life for us?" I asked, the disbelief heavy in my chest.
"I don't need the golden life," he replied. "I'm just an ordinary man, bound by destiny. But I believe that you can change yours."
He hesitated, almost as if he was unsure about what to say next. "I'll show you that destiny can be changed..." His voice softened toward the end, almost lost in the air.
And I realized, in that moment, that Cain—he was trapped too. He was bound by the same chains that held us. But unlike the others, he didn't hesitate. He showed us the road to freedom.
By the time his words sunk in, he was already gone.
"I'll be there," he had said.
From that moment on, I never missed a single night of training. Cain didn't treat me with pity or hesitation. He treated me as an equal. He didn't hold back, and I didn't want him to. If I was going to survive, if I was going to protect my clan and the others, I needed to become strong.
Like the women of my clan.
The men of my clan were known for their blades, their craftsmanship. But the women—the women were the true strength of our people.