8. Cassia

8

CASSIA

I splash cold water on my face, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. The other maids bustle around me, chattering and laughing as they prepare for the day ahead. Not one of them looks my way, despite knowing for sure they must've heard my screams.

I can't help but feel a pang of resentment towards them. They're all so carefree, so oblivious to the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of this manor. But then again, maybe I'm the one who's lost touch with reality.

As I dry my face, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes are bloodshot, and dark circles hang beneath them. I look like a ghost, a mere shadow of the person I used to be.

"Cassia, are you all right?"

I jump at the sound of my name, turning to see Elara looking at me with concern. She's a kind soul, always looking out for the rest of us.

"I'm fine," I say, forcing a smile. "Just a bad dream, that's all."

Elara nods, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. "You've been having a lot of those lately, haven't you?"

I shrug, not wanting to admit the truth. "I suppose so."

"Maybe you should talk to the Master about it," she suggests. "He might be able to help."

I scoff at the thought. "The Master? He doesn't care about us, Elara. We're just servants to him."

Elara looks taken aback by my words. "That's not true, Cassia. He's always been fair to us."

Why would he care about my well-being or my stupid nightmares? It doesn't make any sense.

Or maybe these nightmares have affected my perception of him for me to be rational anymore?

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on my work.

But as I go about my duties, I can't shake the feeling that something is off. The other maids seem to behave as though she wasn't screaming her lungs out in the middle of the night. And the Master's gaze follows me wherever I go.

It's as if I'm being watched, like a mouse in a cage. And I can't help but wonder when the predator will strike.

The only thing that confuses me more than the Master's sudden attention or the maids' obliviousness, is the orc from my dream. How did I know his name? I've never seen him in my life, never seen any race other than elf and human. As a matter of fact, I've never even left the manor. There's no way I could've known him.

Yet I said his name like I've known him my whole life.

"Gorthak," I murmur, as though it's my own little secret.

One of the maids looks at me strangely, and I realize I forgot that I was working the garden with another girl. But… when did I get here?

"Did you say something?" she asks, her brow furrowed in concern.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "No," I squeak.

I try to push the thoughts out of my head and focus on my work, but it's no use. My mind keeps drifting back to the orc, to Gorthak. Who is he? And why do I feel like I know him?

"I don't know him," I tell myself. "He isn't real."

To avoid another set of strange glances, I get up and start to stroll the gardens alone.

"He isn't real," I repeat forcefully. "I've never met or known an orc. I've never left this property, so there's no way I could have met anyone. And if I met an orc, I'm fairly certain that's something I would remember."

And as I wrack my brain for answers, I come up dry.

I really am just losing my mind, aren't I?

But as I dig deeper into my thoughts, I realize something.

I don't remember much of anything.

I stop in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest. "What were my parents' names?" I ask myself, my voice barely above a whisper.

I try to remember, but all I can see is a blur of faces and memories that don't quite fit together. I know they were kind, and that they loved me, but their names elude me.

It's as if they never existed at all.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog that's settled over my mind. But it's no use. The more I try to remember, the more it slips away from me.

"Why can't I remember?" I ask myself, my voice trembling with frustration.

I look around the garden, searching for answers that aren't there. The other maids are still working, their laughter and chatter filling the air. But it all seems so distant, so unimportant.

All I can think about is the gaping hole in my memory.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. But it's no use. My mind is racing, and I can't seem to focus on anything else.

"Who am I?" I ask myself, my voice barely above a whisper.

I know that I'm a servant, born of a servant, born of a servant. Generations of my family have served the Master, all of whom chose to stay and take advantage of his kindness.

But who is the Master? And why can't I remember anything about my life before I came to work for him?

I feel a sudden sense of panic rising up inside of me. I don't know who I am or where I come from. All I know is that I'm trapped in this manor, serving a Master who I can't even remember meeting.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But it's no use. The panic is too strong, and I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate.

I need to get out of here. I need to find answers.