Page 32 of Cursed Dreams
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
"Your studies will be demanding," she continued. "You will attend classes in both Human and Fae anatomy, so that you may understand the strengths, weaknesses, and differences of those you will be caring for. You will be taught the intricacies of potions and poisons, for knowledge of both can mean the difference between life and death. Those of you who wield magic will hone your abilities, while those who do not will take courses in magic limitations, so that you may understand what your Faecompanions can and cannot do.” Thalia exchanged a glance with Nyla, who raised a brow, clearly just as intrigued.
"You will spend countless hours in the library, expanding your knowledge through study. Books and scrolls hold the wisdom of those who came before you. Make use of them."
Thalia swallowed, her heart thrumming with anticipation at the mention of the library.
"And in three months’ time," the High Priestess continued, "those who prove themselves dedicated and capable will have the honour of shadowing real cases alongside our esteemed healers in the hospital wing."
A ripple of excitement swept through the apprentices at this, but Thalia felt something deeper—a sharp, eager pull in her chest.
Three months.
If she worked hard enough, if she proved herself quickly, she could stand beside the best, not just studying theory but practicing, learning from them.
Beside her, Cellen let out a low whistle. "So basically, survive three months of mind-breaking work, and we might actually get to do something exciting?"
Nyla smirked. "You say that like you weren’t expecting to work hard."
"Oh, I was expecting it. I just planned to complain the entire time."
Thalia bit back a laugh, despite the fluttering nerves in her stomach.
The High Priestess gave a final nod, signalling for a group of scholars to begin distributing parchments.
"These hold your individual schedules," she explained. "Memorize them. Follow them. Your time here is limited, and your work is vital. We will see who rises to the challenge and who does not."
With that, she returned to her seat, and the hall buzzed to life once more as the parchments were handed out.
Thalia took hers with slightly trembling fingers, eyes scanning the neatly written schedule. Classes on anatomy, medicine, magic honing, herbalism, and emergency care filled her days, early mornings, late nights. It would be gruelling. It would be relentless. she had never wanted anything more.
The rest of the evening passed in a comfortable haze of laughter and good food.
After the induction, the apprentices had been led to the dining hall, a grand but inviting space filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and spiced vegetables. The long wooden tables were bustling with activity, and for the first time since their journey began, Thalia felt herself relax.
Cellen was in his element, cracking terrible jokes that had half the table groaning and the other half stifling laughter. Nyla rolled her eyes at him every few minutes but always with a small smile tugging at her lips. Roina and Lina were more reserved, whispering quietly between themselves, occasionally glancing around as they observed their new peers.
Thalia found herself sinking into the warmth of the moment, it felt good to just be among them, to feel like she belonged.
By the time they were dismissed, her limbs felt heavy with exhaustion. She barely managed to drag herself back to her room, murmuring a tired goodnight to Nyla before collapsing onto her bed. The moment her head hit the pillow, she was gone.
She was running.
The forest stretched endlessly before her, the muted colours shifting, wavering like mist. The trees, tall, ancient, breathing, watched her as she moved. The path ahead called to her, a desperate pull in her chest, urging her forward, urging her to reach something, someone,
Her name whispered on the wind.
"Thalia..."
She tried to run faster, to catch the voice, to find what waited for her at the end of the path. But the path seemed endless.
And then, he appeared.
A male standing just beyond the trees in a clearing, bathed in soft, ethereal light.
He was tall, impossibly so, with broad shoulders and an effortlessly powerful stance, his presence commanding without needing to move. The fabric of his tunic clung to the outline of his muscular arms, and his form was sculpted like something out of the oldest Fae legends, the kind of warrior-poets sung about in sacred hymns.
His hair was black as the void, raven-dark, catching the faint glow around him. His features were sharp, impossibly beautiful, like they had been chiselled by the gods themselves, a strong jaw, high cheekbones, lips that curved in a way that was bothdangerous and alluring. But it was his eyes that stopped her, pale blue, like sunlight through glacier ice, impossibly clear and cold enough to sting.”
