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There was nothing useful from the book, just like her mother said. Cassiopeia shuts the cover in defeat and seals the artifact in glass. Is there really no cure? Is she destined to die? Will she have to leave everything behind her? Lose the chance to laugh at the indefinite future? Bathe in a warm sunlight beside her friends? Make amends with her family? Get the chance to be honest with herself?
Her footsteps echo throughout the vast halls, her friends undoubtedly searching for answers.
"Have any of you found something?" Cassiopeia calls out.
Silence.
How strange.
The girl walks through the library halls, peeking side to side, hoping to see a familiar face. But there is none.
"This isn't funny!" she calls out.
No response.
"You won't find anyone here."
Cassiopeia swivels her head. Her jaw drops.
"Guess where you are?"
Cassiopeia is staring straight at herself. The identical figure floats around mockingly as it repeats, "guess where you are? Guess where you are?"
"Be quiet!" the girl shouts, but her doppelgänger only laughs. "This has to be a dream," she mutters, turning away every time her look-alike faces her.
"Wrong!" it cackles. "But true at the same time. You're in your subconsciousness!"
"Then I should be able to cast you out," Astoria calms down. "You're just a personification of my negativity."
"Wrong again!" The thing is gleeful, clearly enjoying the chaotic atmosphere. "I am you, but I'm not! I occupy a part of you, like a leech! I am the opportunity to release resentment, and you have a lot of it."
Cassiopeia's mother quickly flashes in Cass's head.
"See!" It claps.
"Leave!" Cassiopeia commands. "You have no right to be here."
"My, you're getting everything wrong today. You can't get rid of me. I am your birthright. To kill me is to kill you."
"Birthright?"
Then it clicks.
"You're the blasted curse," Cassiopeia seethes. "How dare-"
"So what?" The curse shifts form. "What can you do about it? I have waited centuries, generation, for this."
The curse completes its transformation. Lo and behold, a young, pale man stands before Cassiopeia. He grins manically, and his eyes lack the slightest drop of sympathy.
"Who are you?"
The man cracks his neck. "I suppose your ancestor, if you would like to be technical. But I no longer associate with your wretched name."
