CHAPTER 157: CHAPTER 157: WHEN DID I GIVE BIRTH TO A SNAKE...?

Cassian looked around the grand, empty room in confusion. There was no one in sight.

And then—

A soft hiss.

His eyes snapped downward.

There, right near his boot, lay a small, glistening creature, a snake.

But not just any snake.

It was white. Pure white—like snow untouched by dirt. Its scales shimmered under the light, smooth and shining like pearls. Its tiny body curled gently on the polished floor, and its glass-like round black eyes stared straight at him.

Cassian froze.

And then, to his utter shock...

The snake spoke.

"Cassian! You finally came back! You didn’t forget me, did you?"

Cassian took a quick step back. His breath caught in his throat. He blinked, sure that he had imagined it.

"You... how do you speak?" he asked with a shaky voice.

For a moment, he even wondered if he had misheard. Maybe he was so desperate to see his sister, his mind was playing tricks.

But the snake blinked her large, watery eyes, and her voice returned—soft and sad.

"Boohoo... Cassian, you still don’t remember me? I’m your baby... your Lyra!"

His heart skipped a beat.

He stared at her, lips parting slowly. "W-When did I give birth to a snake...?"

Now it was the snake’s turn to freeze.

There was a long silence.

Then, in a small, hurt voice, she replied, "You didn’t give birth to me... You adopted me... This pitiful Lyra..."

Cassian crouched down, his long coat folding beneath him as he lowered himself to the floor.

He looked closely at her—this strange little creature claiming to be someone he once cared for. But why could he not remember her at all? Is she also someone from his past?

Her small eyes still shimmered with tears, and her white tail flicked softly, nervously.

"Are you... a demon snake?" he asked gently.

To his own surprise, he wasn’t too alarmed. After all, in the demon realm, almost anything was possible. Veyce had animal-like ears and a tail—maybe this little snake was a beast-type demon too.

It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he had seen.

But there was something else he needed to know.

"Can you... turn into a human too?"

Lyra’s body stiffened.

Why did he want to see her human form? Was it because he still didn’t believe her? Was he testing her?

She lowered her head, trembling a little.

She could turn human.

But... the big demon had warned her. He had said if she ever turned into a girl without permission, he would rip out her scales one by one.

She didn’t want to be a bald snake!

So instead, she shook her tiny head quickly.

"I—I can’t," she said. "I mean... I can... but not now. I can’t change right now."

Her voice trembled at the end, her fear clearly written in her shiny eyes.

Cassian looked at her silently for a moment, trying to piece everything together.

This little white snake...

He didn’t know how or when it had happened. But right now, none of it seemed like a trick.

Because those eyes, those tears, felt all real.

And deep inside him, something familiar stirred, like he had known her before, before he even came to the demon realm. He knew all of his dreams were not merely dreams, but they were his past, a past that he had forgotten, and now all the people are slowly coming out just like this little snake. Maybe he could remember his past with the help of this little snake.

His voice softened. "So...you are Lyra?"

She nodded quickly, eyes brightening a little.

"I’m your baby!" she said proudly, trying to lift her tiny head higher. "You used to tuck me in every night. You gave me my name. You even let me sleep in your sleeves!"

Cassian blinked slowly, and something like a faint smile tugged at his lips.

"...Sleeves, huh."

He reached out carefully, letting his fingers hover just above her head.

"Can I...?"

Lyra leaned into his hand with a soft hiss, eyes closing with joy.

"You always did that," she whispered. "You used to pet me when I was scared."

Cassian didn’t say anything. He just kept his hand still, watching her curl happily near him.

He gently slipped his fingers beneath Lyra’s small body. She didn’t resist—instead, she eagerly slid up his wrist, curling around his arm like a soft, living bracelet. Her body was warm and smooth, and the tip of her tail wrapped snugly around his wrist, as if she never wanted to let go.

He looked down at her.

Her small head rested on the curve of his hand, and her eyes shimmered with a joy that made something in his chest ache. Like a melody half-remembered.

But then—

Bang! Bang!

Cassian turned his head just in time to see the heavy doors swing open, revealing Veyce. He stood in the doorway, panting as if he’d just sprinted across half the demon realm. His dark coat was half-slipped from one shoulder, and sweat beaded at his temple.

"Veyce?" Cassian frowned. "You haven’t left yet?"

Veyce didn’t respond at first. He strode straight toward him, his boots echoing across the marble. Then, without warning, he grabbed Cassian’s free wrist—the one not carrying Lyra—and clutched it tightly.

His breathing was shallow.

"We have to go. Now," he said.

Cassian stiffened. "What’s going on?"

"The priestess," Veyce said between breaths, "she just told me something. She said—" he paused to take a deeper breath—"she said if I perform the death ritual while you’re still alive... it’ll have serious consequences. On you."

Cassian blinked. "The death ritual...?"

"You don’t get it." Veyce’s voice was strained now, desperate. "It’s not just symbolic. She says it messes with your soul. Your fate. Your threads. If it’s done wrong—if it’s done before it’s your time—it can make things... unravel."

Cassian narrowed his eyes but didn’t pull away.

"She said that?"

Veyce said quickly, "That priestess doesn’t lie, Cassian. And—hell—I don’t care if it’s true or not. I couldn’t sleep at night after knowing what I did. I’ve got this feeling—like something’s about to go horribly wrong. And I’d rather chase a ghost’s whisper than let that happen."

Cassian sighed, tension creeping into his shoulders.

He looked down at Lyra, still nestled against his skin, her little tongue flicking curiously as she watched Veyce.

"I don’t believe in fate being tampered with by rituals," Cassian said flatly. "No priestess holds power over who lives or dies. I’ve lived long enough to see through those games."

"Fine," Veyce snapped, "but humor me. If not for the priestess, then for me. You have to come. If something happens and I didn’t try to stop it, I’ll never forgive myself."

Cassian hesitated.

Something inside him bristled. This all reeked of superstition—of the same kind of control the temples had tried to enforce on people all his life. And yet...

Veyce’s grip trembled on his arm. Not from weakness, but from fear.

Cassian glanced back at the little snake. She tilted her head, clearly confused, but didn’t seem afraid. She trusted him.

"...Alright," Cassian said at last. "I’ll go."

Veyce exhaled a long breath and nodded, immediately turning to lead the way.

As Cassian followed—his steps heavy, reluctant—he whispered down to his tiny companion, "Stay close, Lyra."

Lyra lifted her head slightly and gave a soft hiss, curling tighter around him.

The doors to the chamber closed behind them with a dull boom.

And somewhere, far ahead in the temple halls, the flickering torches grew dim.