RETURN OF THE LEGENDARY CASSIAN MARKAVELLI

7 - A new purpose

Cassian jolted upright from the dream, breath caught in his throat.

His heart pounded violently in his chest as his eyes darted around the hospital room, trying to make sense of reality.

The same dream again.

The fire.

His mother’s screams.

Drako's shadowed and calm face as he lit the lighter.

It never changed.

The nightmare always ended the same way.

He sat well on the bed and coughed hard as he felt something heavy inside his throat.

His mother's screams continued to vibrate silently at the back of his head.

He wiped his tears and looked around.

But this time, when Cassian looked around, something was different.

He wasn’t alone.

Seated by the window, polished shoes crossed neatly at the ankle, was the last person he ever wanted to see.

Drako.

Beside him stood his wife, Myla. Her coat was neatly folded over her arm, and her perfume lingered faintly in the air. A group of medical staff stood near the bed, murmuring quietly to each other.

Cassian’s breath hitched. His eyes locked onto Drako.

He shuddered silently but forced himself to stay still. His fingers, resting on the blanket, trembled visibly, but he balled them into loose fists beneath the sheets.

Drako turned his head slowly. When their eyes met, he smiled.

“Glad to see you awake, Cassian,” he said smoothly, as if none of it had ever happened.

Cassian said nothing.

He didn’t trust his voice yet. Didn’t trust what would come out. Rage. Fear. He couldn't tell

A doctor stepped forward, carrying a clipboard.

“Cassian,” the doctor said gently. “Welcome back. You’ve been through a lot.”

Cassian blinked at him slowly. His eyes flicked back to Drako, then to the doctor again.

“You were in a coma for almost a month,” the doctor continued. “Severe trauma. Internal injuries. Nerve damage. But you survived.”

The words felt like static in his ears.

The doctor offered a faint smile. “There’s something else, your voice. You may’ve already noticed some difficulty speaking?”

Cassian’s jaw clenched.

“We ran neurological tests. The spinal pressure resolved itself and there was no permanent paralysis. But the impact to your throat… it resulted in some nerve interference. The speech center of your brain was affected permanently due to the impact of the accident. I'm sorry but you’ll start experiencing a stutter from now on.”

Cassian’s face twitched.

Stutter. Forever?

“But you’re healing well,” the doctor added quickly. “And with speech therapy, you’ll learn to manage it.”

" Thank you, Rowen" Drako nodded once, like he was satisfied.

The doctor gave a small bow of the head and stepped away.

Myla moved closer then, her heels tapping softly across the floor. She gave a soft, sympathetic smile.

“Cassian,” she said warmly, placing her hand gently on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been through so much. We’ve all been so worried.”

Her voice was smooth and it kept him on the edge.

Cassian didn’t respond. His jaw tensed and his throat felt tight.

He cast a glance at Drako again.

His uncle leaned back in his seat, arms folded, watching him.

He recalled the screams.

The name his mother mentioned before the explosion.

He bit his lips hard and felt nothing but hatred.

He calmed his breaths.

“W-w-where’s… wh-where’s M-m-mom… d-d-dad?” he stuttered, his voice barely audible.

Silence filled the room for a beat too long.

Drako moved closer, his expression unreadable. He placed a hand gently on the bed rail.

“Cassian…” he began, voice low and even. “Your parents are dead.”

The words rang for seconds in Cassian's head.

His vision blurred, not from the hospital lights but from the wave of anguish that struck him like a train.

His lips parted but no words came. Only a broken sound, hoarse and dry, escaped his throat.

Myla sighed and immediately reached for her husband’s hand, gripping it tightly.

“Drako,” she whispered, her voice full of warning. “Honey, be kind with your words. He just woke up from a coma.”

" I understand" Drako nodded slowly, pressing his lips together. Then he turned back to Cassian.

“I’m as heartbroken as you are, Cassian,” he said. “But now isn’t the time to fall apart. You have to be strong. You’re no longer a boy. You’re all that’s left.”

Cassian shook his head slowly, eyes welling with tears.

His anger increased the more he stared at his uncle.

He wondered how someone who just took the life of his own siblings acts so remorseful and full of pity.

or was he here to make sure he stayed silent? Or because he still wanted to play the role of grieving uncle?”

But just then, the door burst open.

A man in a black uniform rushed in, eyes wide, sweat on his brow.

“Sorry sir but I bring bad news”

Drako stood straighter. “What is it?”

“One of our transporting ships... it sank, sir. The storm last night. The cargo is gone.”

" What?!" Drako’s jaw clenched.

Myla’s hand dropped from his.

Cassian looked up through bleary, swollen eyes, watching his uncle’s demeanor change. The grief was still there but he could see a man who was in command and held power.

Drako turned to the man. “Send a search team. I want full details. Coordinates. Crew names. I want to know who was behind the navigation error. We don’t lose shipments.”

“Yes, sir,” the man said, quickly backing out of the room.

Drako looked back at Cassian. “Rest,” he said simply. “You’ll need your strength. A lot is going to change.”

Then he walked out, Myla trailing quietly behind, leaving Cassian alone with a broken voice and a broken heart.

The hum of the monitors filled the silence.

Cassian stared at the door long after it closed, feeling the weight of the situation settling in.

He laid back against the pillow, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven waves. His fingers trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut, but it was no use.

The tears came anyway.

Hot. Silent. Painful.

They carved trails down his face like the fire that carved his life into this.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.

He didn’t know if he even wanted to.

The man who had always looked at him like a son…

The man who bought him his first wristwatch…

The man who held his hand at his parents’ wedding anniversary…

Had killed them.

Drako.

The same voice that just told him to “be strong.”

Cassian’s throat tightened with rage.

His fingers gripped the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. Every breath felt like it might split him in two.

He murdered them, he thought, biting down on his trembling lip. He watched them burn, and then, he walked away like nothing happened.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to get up, rip out the IVs, grab the nearest object and fling it at the wall—at Drako’s face.

He wanted to see him bleed.

“Y-y-y-you…” he tried to say aloud, barely a whisper. “Y-you k-killed… th-th-them…”

He slammed his fist weakly into the mattress, again and again.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing would ever be enough.

The betrayal cracked something deep in him—something that would never heal.

Nurses rushed in after hearing his voice.

He turned his face to the side, weeping into the pillow, biting it to muffle the sound.

He couldn't confront Drako yet.

Not like this.