Page 19 of Cursed Dreams
Vaelith stood a few paces away, watching her with his usual unreadable expression. His hair, pale as moonlight, caught the faint glow of the temple’s sconces, and his piercing gaze studied her as if he could read her thoughts.
She hadn't even heard him approach. Embarrassment creeped up her cheeks.
She clutched her chest, scowling. “Do you have to sneak up on people like that?”
One silver brow arched slightly. “I wasn’t sneaking.”
Thalia huffed, crossing her arms. “Then how come I didn’t hear you?”
Vaelith tilted his head slightly, as if the question amused him. “Perhaps you were too lost in thought.”
She pursed her lips, knowing he was probably right but unwilling to admit it. He was always so composed, so effortlessly sure of himself. Meanwhile, she felt like she was constantly stumbling through her own thoughts.
“Well?” Vaelith prompted.
She blinked. “Well, what?”
His bored stare remained intact, though there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips. “What are you doing out here?”
Thalia hesitated, suddenly feeling silly. She wasn't about to tell him she’d woken up feeling empty because of a dream. That she was standing here questioning reality itself just because she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. That the stress of the last few weeks was clearly catching up on her, she refused to show him anymore weakness.
Instead, she cleared her throat. “I couldn’t sleep. Bad dreams.”
Something in his expression shifted. The indifference in his eyes softened, just slightly, but enough for her to notice.
“I understand,” he said quietly.
Thalia blinked. Of all the responses she expected, understanding was not one of them.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night stretched around them, the temple’s warm sconces flickering in the distance, the sky above vast and endless.
Vaelith’s gaze flickered upward. “Have you ever left your village before?”
She shook her head. “Never. This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home.”
He hummed as if that didn’t surprise him. “Are you missing your family?”
She hesitated again, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. He was being... kind. Not that he was ever outright cruel, but he had always seemed so detached, like he was only half-listening to conversations, too far removed to genuinely care.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I am.”
Vaelith nodded once, as if he understood exactly what she meant. “I miss mine too.”
The quiet way he said it, the subdued sadness in his voice, made something in Thalia’s chest pang. She had never really considered the fact that someone like him, so confident, so sure of himself, could feel loneliness too.
“I suppose that never gets easier,” she murmured.
“No,” he agreed. “But it helps to look at the stars.”
Thalia furrowed her brows. “The stars?”
Vaelith lifted a hand, pointing toward the sky. “My father taught me to read them. That way, no matter how far I went, I’d always know the way home.”
Thalia glanced at him, then back at the sky.
His father.
That meant he hadn’t always been alone. For some reason, she had assumed that he simply was, that he had always existed in that state of aloof distance. But no. He had people he cared about, of course he did.
