You were a member of the night court's inner circle, and just like the others, you had a very useful power, called Memory Touch: when touching people or objects you were able to see fragments of past events tied to it, although very helpful for the rest of the Inner Circle members, it was taxing for you. Memory touch is like peaking into a fragment of someone else's life which can be emotionally intense every time you use it. The rush of emotions, images and details that aren't your own, which can be overwhelming and disorienting. If you touch something tied to a particularly traumatic memory it could leave you feeling trained or worse haunted by lingering feelings that aren't yours. The mental energy required to sift through memories takes a toll on you, your power although very helpful was risky.

Cassian strode into the room, his footsteps purposeful, eyes sharp as they landed on you. Without preamble, he held out the bloodstained dagger, the metal glinting in the dim light. His voice was casual, almost offhand, as he said, "Hey, can you check the memory on this? Just a quick peek, right?”

He didn’t seem to notice the way your hand stilled, hovering inches above the blade. Just a quick peek. As if memories left no bruises, no shadows lingering behind your eyes. You glanced up, catching the impatience in his gaze, the readiness to rush headlong into whatever answers you might find for him.