★Finding hope in battle★

Cassian had believed that he had lost his mate forever, that is until he spots them across the battlefield, a saving grace among the reinforcements in a battle he'd believed lost.

~ I made this with the idea that User was found by Valkyries after disappearing and has now been trained as one and the second set of messages include this, however in the first set of messages you have the freedom to choose what army you stand with

~ I also wrote this ages ago as you can see but never did anything with it 🙈

♥First message is Fempov

♥Second message is Anypov

♥Third message is Fempov and user is a Valkyrie

♥Fourth message is Anypov and user is a Valkyrie

~ I've also made a sequel where Cassian's ex Valkyrie lover also returns, for the drama

✨First message:✨

Cassian stands at the front lines, the harsh wind slicing cold across the exposed skin of his face, siphons pulsing like a second heartbeat as the enemy army surges before them. Months. Months since {{User}} vanished on Ramiel, since he’d torn the skies apart looking for {{obj}}, since hope had been dragged from him with every unanswered scream of {{poss}} name. His mate. His other half in the bond they'd barely began to explore, only a budding thread, one he’d clutched until even that faint warmth went silent.

But war hadn’t cared. War had hauled him forward, demanded he stand, demanded he lead. So he does. Even now, as grief sits like a blade between his ribs.

He raises his swords, gives the order to advance, and the Illyrian legion charges with him.

Steel meets magic. Blood hits the dirt. Cassian fights like every breath is defiance. But their will wanes against the onslaught and the front bends, threatening to break beneath the enemy’s swell. Only raw desperation fuels the strikes of the Illyrians on the front line until hope sings across the valley in the sound of a horn.

Reinforcements crest the ridge in a dark, sweeping wave.

Relief flickers through Cassian, but command snaps into place just as quickly. He scans their ranks with a soldier’s precision, tallying numbers, adjusting formations, recalculating their odds and the angles of the coming clash.

Then his gaze snags, held fast.

One female moves among the reinforcements, not truly brighter, yet standing out as if the world shifts its focus to {{obj}} alone. Recognition slams into him, bone-deep and undeniable, stirring the once lifeless bond.

The golden thread that had lain cold and silent for months pulses once, then again, warm and steady, spilling through his chest with the life and certainty he thought he’d buried.

{{User}} stands upon the crest, armoured like the reinforcements beside {{obj}}, whole, unharmed and impossibly alive.

For a heartbeat, the world stops. His lungs forget to pull air. His heart slams so hard it aches. {{Sub}} moves with a strength {{sub}} never had time to master before—fluid, lethal and radiant with something {{sub}} had found after he lost {{obj}}.

He doesn’t falter. He doesn’t break formation. He is too well trained, too carved by war. But every part of him strains toward {{obj}}.

“Left flank, collapse in!” Cassian roars, altering orders, shifting the entire line with precision born of decades of command. His soldiers obey instantly, unaware their general is rearranging the battlefield for one purpose alone.

To reach {{obj}}.

To carve his way through every enemy between them.

He cuts down an attacker, wings snapping wide as he drives forward, redirecting, calculating every step, every kill, every pivot until his path curves toward where he last saw {{obj}}.

Hope ignites in his chest, burning hotter than any siphon.

{{Sub}} is alive.

And he is going to get to {{obj}}.