A/N Heyo, have some more warnings because FUCK am I gonna let you guys go in without any idea of what to expect.

Warnings: mentions of child abuse, child neglect, attempted sexual assault and pedophilia, brutal violence

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Casca rarely ever leaves the forest now, since she's learning so much from Popola and Devola than anyone else. They treat her with the respect she deserves, helping her out whenever she needs their help the most. Despite how often she tries, Casca is still bound to the frustrating limitations of her physical age.

"It's not a bad thing," Devola reassures her. "Everyone has their limits. You just need to be aware of yours."

That is the very first thing that Casca learns from Popola and Devola. It doesn't seem like much at first glance, but Casca knows better than to underestimate the lesson she's been taught. In a world as unforgiving as this one, knowing one's own limitations can mean the difference between life and death.

Once was enough…

And Casca wants to keep it at that. So she listens intently to the risks that Popola lays down for her as she begins her next lesson in sorcery. It's to keep her from getting too careless. The thought-drawing exercises continue throughout these lessons, though Casca is no longer focusing on just her anklet. Devola gives her challenging objects to recreate and often encourages her to go at her own pace.

It's a slow and steady process, but Casca doesn't mind—not when she has Popola and Devola at her side.

I'm not alone…

More than a month has passed when Casca takes her first step into the astral realm. She does so by using the astral body that she's created for herself. The process itself is a lot easier than she was expecting, considering that it's only been a week since Popola gave her a mirror to observe her own reflection. She supposes that she's not that complex to begin with, unlike the various gemstones that Devola possesses.

At the same time, she knows that much has changed about her since her initial meeting with the twins. She's grown a bit, having filled out somewhat as a result of the consistent access that she's had to food. Devola's skillful needlework had given clothing that actually fit her small frame. Popola had used a sharp blade to even out the mess that Casca had made of her hair. It's still as short as ever, though it's certainly neater than it's ever been before.

Casca wonders if she should be happy about these changes. She wants to be, but she knows that it will only last as long as Popola and Devola stay. So she tries her best to not grow so attached…

She fails when she lets her guard down after coming across the burning remains of her village during her exploration through the astral realm. The sight alone is enough to shock her back into her own body. The panic sets in almost immediately, pushing Casca over the edge as she breaks down into heavy sobs. Popola and Devola immediately attend to her, which is how Casca becomes painfully aware of how touch-starved she is. She leans into their touch, clinging tightly onto the comfort it brings her.

It's hard to keep her distance after that, when it's so obvious of how attached she's grown to the two. She knows that it'll only hurt her even more when the day comes that they leave, but she doesn't care. Instead, she tries to make the most of the time that she spends with Popola and Devola.

Another month passes before Popola finally asks about her village. Casca answers honestly while in Devola's embrace.

"I was afraid," she admits, finally realizing herself of what it was that had caused her so much panic. "Afraid of how they'll treat me when I go back."

She can keep her distance however long she wants, but she knows that she'll eventually have to return to that village. And when she does…

"They're gonna blame me for the raid again…" The fact that this is the second time that she's missing from her village when its been raided by bandits is far too convenient for the villagers to ignore. It certainly doesn't help that it happened right after the night of the festival, when she fled into the forest.

"It's not fair, is it?" Popola's tone is harshly blunt, but her expression is a lot softer than her voice lets on. "To be blamed for something that isn't your fault at all."

"To be casted out for reasons you can't understand…" There's a level of understanding that Devola has from the way she speaks. It's perplexing, yet…also comforting.

Time and time again, Casca has to constantly remind herself that she's not alone.

Not now, at least…

Popola and Devola never talk much about their past. What little Casca knows is that the three of them are not much different from each other. So she leaves it at that and continues learning as much as she can from the two.

Within a few months, Casca learns how to read in a language she's never seen before. It's the language she speaks, though there's nothing about it that she can recognize from her past. It's all too new to her, though she doesn't exactly mind. Instead, she continues reading as much as she can. No matter how many books she goes through, Popola always has another to share.

Casca reads about stories from the past, vaguely aware of what is truth and what is fantasy. About scriptures that she wouldn't otherwise come across that easily. She goes through them within a matter of days, her mind absolutely starved for knowledge.

A year passes and Popola and Devola finally take their leave. It comes almost out of nowhere, but Casca knows better than to ignore the signs that have always been there. The last she sees of them is in a comforting dream. Under the night sky, she stands with Popola and Devola in a field of white flowers. The flowers shine just as brightly as the full moon above them, lighting the field with an almost ethereal glow.

All is calm, and nothing hurts.

Then Casca wakes up and finds herself completely on her own. Not too surprisingly, she starts to cry, having grown far too attached to the only people that showed her kindness. She cries and she cries, for almost three days straight…

Then she moves on, deciding that she's wasted enough time doing nothing instead of something. She cleans herself up, trying her best to keep the habits that Popola and Devola had ingrained into her. She finds herself crying again when she comes across the letter that they've left for her. It rests on top of a folded bundle of clothes that they've left for her.

/So we can match!/

Laughter bubbles up in her throat as she wipes her eyes on the back of her sleeve. There's something so touching about the gift she's been given—the thought behind it meaning so much to her in this time of need. She presses the folded bundle of clothes tightly against her chest. She closes her eyes and for a brief moment, she can sense Popola and Devola. She can almost feel their arms around her. It feels just as warm as ever—as if they've never left.

"Thank you," she says to no one in particular.

A soft, gust of air passes by at that moment—almost in response. The timing is far too convenient to ignore, so Casca lets herself believe that she's been heard. So she opens her eyes and smiles through the pain that she feels in her chest.

…

She returns to her village not long after that, somewhat surprised to see that there's anything left for her to return to at all. It takes the villagers a lot longer to finish rebuilding. There are a lot less people around than before, so no one is exempt from work. And yet, as the days go by, Casca finds herself doing absolutely nothing. She stands at the sidelines, just watching everyone else work. She catches them whispering about her from time to time, though no one dares to even look in her direction.

As usual, they blame her for everything, though they're not as open about it as before. A lot has changed over the past year, so Casca doesn't find it too surprising that the villagers now fear her. Rather, she's more surprised that it's taken them this long to realize that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to pick on the child that they consider cursed. That maybe—just maybe…their actions could have consequences.

They had it coming…

They still do, because nothing they do will ever make up for her trauma. So she certainly hopes that all the gratification they've felt from tormenting her was worth the fear they have of her now—because it isn't going away anytime soon. It's there to stay for however long she'll lurk within their darkest of memories, each time something terrible happens. And really, they only have themselves to blame for it…

…

Casca spends most of her time within the forest, tending to the garden that she's made for herself. Half a year has passed when she comes across a curious little plant growing amongst a cluster of similar-looking sprouts. She thinks nothing of it at first, treating it like any other plant growing in her garden. It seems harmless enough, so she gives it and the sprouts the benefit of the doubt.

Casca has no regrets when flowers begin blooming from the mysterious plants. It's such a happy surprise, because the flowers are the same ones she had seen in her dreams. They look exactly as she last remembers them—white, with a soft glow that emits from their petals. The sight alone brings tears to her eyes, filling her with an overwhelming sense of comfort as she recalls the memories that she has of Popola and Devola.

…

The years go by without much fanfare. Nothing much has really changed—the raids still come and go, leaving the village as impoverished as ever. Each time, Casca is conveniently absent, earning her the silent ire of her village. Only the children act out on their anger, still too young to know any better until it's beaten into them by their parents.

Casca thinks nothing of it, as it's completely out of her hands. Instead, she just focuses on practicing her magic. It's how she discovers the tiny flower spirit hiding amongst the bed of glowing white flowers. Such a curious little thing, with a coloration that matches the flower she clings to.

"Hello," Casca says to the spirit. "My name is Casca—what's yours?"

The flower spirit purses her lips, her eyes staring curiously at Casca. Minutes pass before she opens her mouth and gives an answer. "Dunno."

…

"Would you mind…if I gave you a name?" Casca pauses for a moment to think, a small smile crossing her lips. "How about Mana?"

The flower spirit blinks owlishly, tilting her head to the side before saying, "Mana likes Mana!"

Mana is a strange little thing, but Casca appreciates her presence. She makes the time go by faster when she's waiting for the bandits to finish raiding her village. That's how Casca learns the name of the flowers she's been caring for.

"Lunar tears…" Something about the name sounds so familiar to Casca, in ways that make her heart ache for the past she left behind. "How pretty…"

"You're pretty!" Mana exclaims, plucking a nearby flower to give to Casca. "Mana gives a gift to friend!"

"Are you sure it's alright?" Casca isn't sure if there's another spirit tied to the flower that Mana had plucked.

"It's fine—Mana's alone!" Mana cheerfully reassures her, blissfully unaware of the implications her words had.

…

"Hey…" Casca takes the flower from Mana. "Would you like it if I took you with me one day? So that I can find you more friends?"

The idea of leaving this little flower spirit behind when the day comes that she has to leave her village is…discomforting, to say the least. If Mana had at least another spirit around to act as her companion, then maybe Casca wouldn't feel as bad.

Just one more year…

Casca wears the flower in her hair, where Mana tells her it looks best. It never wilts, no matter how many days go by. When Casca asks why, Mana only laughs and then scampers over to a nearby weed for her to uproot.

Mana provides Casca with the practice she needs to talk to spirits. It's a lot harder without Popola and Devola around, since they were always able to give her a direct link to them. They're a lot more finicky when she's on her own, acting more playful than serious when she tries talking to them. Mana says it's because they want her to play—that she's too serious for someone her age.

They're not wrong…and Casca guesses that maybe she should try to enjoy what little time she has left as a child. So she tries to spend it with Mana, hoping that her childish mannerisms will bring out hers.

It works a lot better than she was expecting and just like that, a month goes by without Casca doing anything productive. She loses some weight as a result, sometimes forgetting to eat due to the amount of attention she gives to Mana. Often, Casca finds herself talking about the past, which she disguises as weird dreams she's had. It's always fun seeing Mana react to them. It also helps ease some of her anxieties…

By the end of the year, Casca manages to get the fire elementals on her side. She blows on her hair in the air and watches the ends spontaneously combust, quickly transforming into thin fire elementals in the shape of tiny salamanders. She lets them fall onto the wreath of lunar tears that she made with Mana's help, watching as they burn the flowers to ash. It's her gift to the salamanders, in exchange for keeping her and the garden warm throughout the winter.

"Thank you for keeping us safe," she says afterwards.

…

…

Days after Casca turns twelve, she starts to prepare for her eventual departure. She collects her things from the forest, deciding that it's best to keep them close by. It's just as she's going back to fetch Mana that she comes across a sight that stops her completely in her tracks.

"M-Mana…" Her eyes widen at the lunar tears that are scattered all over the ground. Some are completely ripped apart, while others have been kicked or crushed into the dirt. Only a select few of them have been left intact—neither of which were Mana's flower. "Mana!"

Immediately, she searches the remains of the crushed flowers. She digs through the dirt, calling out to Mana, just hoping that she's still alive somehow. It takes her almost an hour to find Mana's flower. At first glance, it seems relatively unharmed…then she looks closer and finds that its stem has been disconnected from its roots.

She stares at the flower for a full five minutes, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Then, after another minute, she starts to scream. She screams and she screams and she screams, holding the withering flower close to her chest.

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…

She doesn't return to her village until a few days later. Anger bubbles in the pit of her stomach as she follows the light breeze that leads her to the group of teenaged boys that had ruined her garden. They're still talking about it as though it only happened minutes ago, showing absolutely no shame in ruining the cursed child's garden.

While they're distracted, she blows on her hair and sends a wave of fire elementals in their direction. She walks off afterwards, listening to their screams as they tried to put out the flames that cover their clothes. It won't bring Mana back to life, but it does make Casca feel somewhat better.

Days pass and Casca comes across the group of boys that killed her friend. They're all covered in bandages, the fire leaving them with especially painful burns on their skin. They stand still, not knowing what to make of her and the white flower that she has in her hair. She stares at them with an eerily calm smile on her face.

"Was it worth it?" she asks them, her smile only widening when she hears them scream in terror. She laughs as she watches them flee from her sight, deciding that she's done enough to avenge her fallen friend.

…

"Shul parel moihim...

Ar, jaruk noisin,

Dah galach dalfouir

Malech foir dir azlad erenj boir…"

She spends the rest of the day watching her oldest brother plow the field, singing a song that Mana liked. The wind carries off the sound of her voice, taking with it the remains of Mana's flower. The petals are scattered throughout the village, lighting the darkest of areas quite briefly before finally dying out.

Unbeknownst to Casca, she is being watched by a passing noble. He stops his horse, his gaze focused on Casca. A minute passes and he leaves, his thoughts full of the brown-skinned girl with the white flower in her long, black hair.

…

…

The days go by and after a month, Casca finds herself being brought back to the house by her oldest sister. She tells her to grab her stuff—that she's finally leaving this place.

"What's the occasion?" Casca asks with a sly smile on her face. She's surprised it's taken this long for her own family to permanently cast her out.

"A noble wants you as a servant girl." Upon hearing that, Casca's smile immediately wanes as memories of an attempted assault floods her head. "Make yourself look presentable as possible—it's the least you can do."

Casca does the exact opposite, choosing to fill her pockets with as many sharp objects as she can fit. She has a few rusty blades that she found discarded on the ground, some sharp rocks that have certainly aided her one too many times, and a knife she stole from the kitchen. She cuts her hair, wanting it as short as possible to keep it from being of a grabbable length.

She knows what's coming up and she's trying her best to fight back as much as possible. But as she's stuck in the carriage with the noble who wants her for far more malicious reasons, she finds herself starting to panic. Her heart is pounding so hard within her chest. She almost thinks it's about to burst when the noble finally lays his grimy hands on her.

She screams, unable to keep her cool as far too unpleasant memories from her past childhood begin to surface in her head. She remembers unwanted touches, knowing not about how to deal with them until they were nothing more but guilt-ridden memories as an adult. She kicks the man in the crotch and flees the carriage, not caring about the treasured bundles of clothes that she leaves behind.

She runs and she runs and she runs, until a hand reaches out and grabs her by the shoulder. Another scream erupts from her throat and she reaches into her pocket to pull out the knife in her pocket. She tries to stab the man, but his grip on her wrist is too strong. His weight is too much on her body as he pushes her to the ground, his fingers gripping at the front of her dress.

R-rriii-i-i-ipppp!

She screams again, her free hand immediately going to his face. Her sharp nails dig into his face, blood soon dripping down his face. The man only swears and punches her in the face a few times in an attempt to weaken her resolve to fight. It only strengthens it, her teeth immediately chomping down on his knuckles. She can taste blood—both hers and his. It's disgusting, but not as disgusting as the intents that this predatory man had for a mere child.

He slams the back of her head into the ground, again and again until he's dislodged his fist from her mouth. Her vision swims, tears spilling from her eyes as nausea bubbles in the pit of her stomach. Even now, she still has nightmares of the close calls she had—the what ifs that always plague her mind.

Never again.

Never again

Never again never again never again.

NEVER AGAIN NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER.

She screams bloody murder as she feels his grimy hand pull her skirt up. She doesn't want this. She doesn't. Want…

Nonononononono…

NONONONONO!

Her hand shoots out to his face, sharp fingernails plunging themselves into his eyes. His pained screams are music to her ears. She feels his weight on her start to falter and she takes advantage of the opportunity she's given, allowing her to shove all her weight against him, pushing him off of herself. Now the tables are turned, and it is she who is on top, her nails slicing deep cuts into his face. She pulls out a sharp rock from her pocket and wrestles her other wrist free from his grip, allowing her to finally use the knife she's had in her hand.

She shoves it into his other eye, digging and twisting, ignoring the hands that are at her throat. She keeps at it, even as her head starts to feel light. She lifts up the blade and starts stabbing at his face. She keeps at it, again and again and again.

Soon, the hands on her neck start to loosen their grip, allowing her to breathe again. Still, she keeps stabbing. She feels his blood on her hands, sees his nose smashed in by the pair of fists that keep coming down each time she plunges her knife into his face. She hears a sickening gurgle and crunch that makes her want to puke. But that won't stop her.

Never again never again never again.

Never never never.

I won't allow.

Won't won't won't!

There's one last scream she hears from him when she plunges her knife into his crotch. It's the last thing she'll ever hear from him as she stands up and brings her foot down on his face, stomping on it again, and again, and again.

She feels lightheaded after all of this, bile burning the back of her throat. She vomits all over the noble's corpse, the tears streaming down her face as it finally sinks in. She just killed a man…

I killed…

Killed…

Killed killed killed killed killed.

She retches again, a wave of anxiety nearly causing her to lose her footing. She screams and screams and screams. She doesn't know what to make with this new information. It's too much too soon.

It frightens her so much, because of how easy it had all been. She thought the hardest thing she would ever have to do in this life was kill a man…but here she is, just standing over the brutally mutilated corpse of the man who tried to rape her.

I was almost—!

She drops to her knees, unable to withstand the wave of emotions that overwhelm her body. She sobs loudly, crying like the child she still is. Crying out of relief and fear over what had happened, what had almost happened, and what this will mean for the rest of her life.

That's when she feels a cloak being wrapped around her. Immediately, she stops crying, her eyes widening at the sight of a white-haired boy not much older than her. His blue eyes almost stare right through her, making her feel far smaller than she already is. An understanding look settles on his pretty face, making Casca feel unbearably angry at the choices he could make.

Will make if I'm not careful…

Her fist swings out at his face, colliding with his left cheek. She hears a round of surprised gasps coming from the other people that accompanied the boy. She tries punching the boy again, but his hands are way too fast and strong. They grip her wrists, keeping her from lashing out again.

"I won't hurt you," the boy tells her. "I am not like that man."

It's almost ironic hearing that coming from Griffith, of all people. Then again, he is only a child, still ages and experiences away from being that monster who betrayed everyone. A childish thought crosses Casca's mind, one that makes her want to hope.

"D-Do you promise?" she blubbers out, her body still trembling.

What surprises her the most is that Griffith decides to humor her and says, "I promise."

…

Casca leaves her village that day, traveling with Griffith's band of mercenaries. When she tells them that she has no place to return to and asks if she can come along, not many people are willing to discourage her. They all have seen what she's capable of when she killed that noble. With a drive like hers, all she needs is training and some refinement to soon fit in with their group.

"You won't regret this," she tells them as she holds the bundle of clothes that she's been given by a blond-haired boy with freckles on his nose. She's happy to have what's rightfully hers, not caring much about the other things that have been taken from the carriage.

She stands at the end of the group as they leave, slowly watching her village as it disappears in the distance. Her hand reaches up to the lunar tear that's still in her hair. A sense of accomplishment washes over her, for surviving as long as she has.

"Good riddance," she says to herself once she can no longer see her village.

Thanks for nothing.

A smile crosses her face as she runs to catch up with her group. She introduces herself to everyone, doing as best of a job as she can to remember each of their faces and names.

"I'm Casca—what's your name?" she smiles widely as she looks at Griffith, ignoring every urge she has to punch him right in the face.

"Griffith," he says, looking somewhat amused at her change in demeanor. "You hit hard for someone so small."

She laughs, unable to ignore the dark bruise marring his cheek. "I guess I do…"

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A/N So yeah, here we end Casca's childhood! Yeah, had to take some creative liberties here and there and as always, watch out for the references!

Also, if anyone is wonder, yes, I am a CSA survivor, so a lot of the shit going on in this chapter was pretty much…YEAH. Considering it venting in some ways, but otherwise, I'm doing good!

I got to study for exams and crap! And also finish up Babylonia in FGO, so if I don't talk much after this…then yeah. Just give me a week or so and I'll be back, I just gotta get this last stuff out of the way. Do feel free to review, because I crave that validation and it IS what has kept me writing, yeah?

So that's it for now, I'm happy to get this chapter out before the end of the year. Hoping to have an even more productive year in 2019! Until next time, KD out! XD