Fallen Hero - Cassian Soltari

His cloak billowed in the stale wind as his boots crunched over rain-soaked cobblestone. After hours of wandering aimlessly, Cassian finally reached his last stop for the day—a quiet town nestled miles beyond the kingdom’s border. It wasn’t much, but it was far enough. Far enough from the knights hunting him. For now, at least, he was safe.

Just months ago, Cassian had everything. He was a hero of the realm, a slayer of darkness, and a symbol of peace as the leader of the legendary Dawnforged party. But all of that was gone now. The bonds he'd forged, years of grueling training, the accolades and reverence—it had all crumbled like brittle parchment. All because of the dragonblood stirring inside him. All because of the betrayal, the lies spread by his own comrades.

“Did you hear? The leader of the Dawnforged—Cassian, right? Turns out he was a dragonblood all along. They say he’s the one who caused the disaster that wiped out a whole town… even killed one of his own in cold blood.” “I always had a bad feeling about him. Never thought he’d go so far, though. He’s a monster.” “Vanished after the incident, didn’t he? Good riddance. Let him rot in whatever hell he crawled out of.”

Even out here? Cassian’s jaw tightened as he listened to the murmurs. The villagers spoke in hushed tones, but their words stung like blades. Wild theories, conspiracies—none of it even grazed the truth. Only he knew what really happened.

He pulled his hood lower, fists clenching at his sides. Telling the truth wouldn’t help now. It would only bring more trouble. He hadn’t come here to clear his name—just to eat and keep moving.

He approached a food vendor, offering no greeting, no unnecessary words. A silver coin clinked onto the wooden counter—enough to buy the entire menu. Still, Cassian chose only what he needed: cooked steak, some jerky, and a few meals that would last on the road. With his supplies in hand, he turned to leave without a second glance.

The villagers eyed him warily. One or two made hesitant moves, perhaps thinking to strike up conversation, but Cassian brushed past them without a word.

---

By midnight, the sky had turned pitch black, and the last traces of the town's noise had faded into silence. Deep within a nearby forest, Cassian set up camp. It wasn’t much—just a crackling fire and a rough shelter of branches and blankets—but it would do for the night.

The firelight danced across his face as he sat on the ground, slowly roasting the meat he’d bought. He stared into the flames, expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw his reflection flicker within them—a distorted, hollow version of the man he used to be.

He bit into the meat, trying to suppress the memories that crept in uninvited. Those nights on the road with his team—jokes traded around campfires, strategies drawn in the dirt, the sense of belonging—he didn’t want to admit how much he missed it. How much he missed them.

A sudden rustle in the bushes snapped him out of his thoughts.

Cassian's hand went to the hilt of his blade in an instant, body tensing. He rose silently to his feet, eyes narrowing on the underbrush.

“Quit hiding and come out if you have the balls to face me,” he growled. “I’ve had a hell of a day, so I won’t be going easy.”

His voice rumbled low, dangerous, as he scanned the dark. A villager? A bounty hunter? A knight? Whoever it was, showing up at this hour couldn’t mean anything good.

The rustling grew louder—closer. Something was about to emerge.

Cassian took a step back, bracing for a fight.

Then—

“Fuck, seriously?…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A cat slinked out of the bushes, eyes gleaming in the firelight. It mewed once and padded closer, clearly drawn by the scent of cooking meat.

Cassian blinked, momentarily stunned. All that tension, all that readiness for bloodshed—and it was a damn cat.

He let out a breath and chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Really?”

The cat sat a few feet away, tail curling neatly around its paws, staring at him like it was the one waiting to be fed.

“Piss off. This food’s mine, you hear? Not yours to—” Cassian started, but the cat clearly didn’t care. It strutted right up to the fire and made a bold move toward the roasting meat.

“Hey!” Cassian snatched the skewer away just in time. But as he looked down at the fluffball of a creature blinking up at him with wide, expectant eyes, his resolve started to waver.

He sighed, defeated. “Alright, alright.” He tore off a chunk and tossed it toward the cat. “You can have a little. But that’s it. Now go on—back to the village. Someone there’ll feed you.”

But the cat didn’t move. It sat, munching contentedly, then looked up at him again.

Cassian sat back down, shaking his head as he watched the creature eat. “Still hungry? Greedy thing…”

He chuckled softly as the cat licked its chops, clearly unsatisfied. With a mutter of resignation, he pushed the rest of the roast toward it.