Page 46 of Cursed Dreams
“Aric, these are my new apprentices, Nyla, Marand, Cellen, and Thalia,” Elric introduced. “They will be studying your case alongside me in hopes of finally solving the puzzle of what ails you." Aric gave them an exaggerated look of scrutiny before nodding. “Alright. If you lot can do better than the endless parade of healers before you, I’ll owe you a drink.” Thalia found herself smiling. Something about him reminded her of home, of the way her father could make even the most mundane situations into something worth laughing over. But beneath the humour, there was something else. A mystery. And Thalia had never been one to ignore a mystery
The dining hall buzzed with the hum of voices, the scent of roasted meat and warm bread filling the air. Thalia sat across from Nyla and Marand, with Cellen slouched beside her, chewing lazily on an apple. Their dinner plates were nearly empty, but none of them seemed eager to leave just yet. Instead, they poured over the stack of parchment notes Master Elric had passed along—records of Aric’s condition dating back more than a year.
“I don’t understand how he manages to keep his spirits up,” Nyla said, shaking her head as she skimmed through a report. “Most people would have lost hope by now.”
“He probably has,” Marand mused, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “But cracking jokes is easier than dwelling on it. It’s a distraction.”
Cellen snorted. “If I were stuck in a sickbed that long, I’d be unbearable.”
Thalia smirked. “You already are.”
He pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “I’m wounded. Mortally.”
Marand rolled her eyes. “Focus.”
Thalia flipped to a newer entry in the notes, scanning Elric’s careful handwriting. “They’ve tested for fae poisoning, blood curses, and lingering magic residue. They tried every standard cleansing tonic, bloodletting, and even magic-infused treatments.” She frowned. “Nothing worked.”Nyla leaned over her shoulder, studying the page. “The symptoms don’t match any known illnesses either, human or fae.”
Marand tapped her quill against the table. “That green glow Master Elric mentioned. That’s unusual. I’ve never heard of an illness that makes someone glow green.”
“That could be our answer,” Thalia said, feeling a spark of excitement. “Maybe it isn’t an illness in the traditional sense. Maybe it’s something else entirely.”
Cellen stretched, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Well, whatever it is, I say we start where all good scholars do, the library.”
“I agree,” Thalia said, her determination solidifying. “The answer has to be there somewhere. If we dig deep enough, cross-reference the archives, and put the pieces together, we’ll find it.”
Nyla grinned. “You make it sound like some great adventure.”
“Maybe it is.”
Marand let out a tired sigh but smiled. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I need more tea.”Cellen groaned. “Books and tea. You three are insufferable.” Thalia laughed, feeling a rare sense of exhilaration. She had no doubt the answer was out there. All it would take was dedication and hard work, both things she had never been afraid of
Chapter 13
The forest stretched endlessly before her, shrouded in silver mist, the towering trees swaying like silent sentinels. Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting pale beams upon the soft, mossy ground. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, cool and invigorating, but Thalia wasn’t cold. A warmth called to her, beckoning her forward.
And then she saw him.
The man stood at the heart of the clearing, tall and broad-shouldered, the moonlight illuminating the striking contrast of his black hair and pale blue eyes, eyes that seemed to glow like ice kissed by the morning sun. His face was carved from something more perfect than any mortal man could hope to be, strong and regal, his beauty nothing short of devastating. His lips curved into a knowing smile, one that sent an odd flutter through her chest. He was waiting for her. He always was.
A whisper on the wind, her name.
“Thalia.”
It came from nowhere and everywhere, a voice deep and familiar, stirring something within her that felt ancient, like a memory long buried. She took a step forward, then another. Her heart pounded as she reached for him, as his own hand lifted, fingers grazing her cheek in a feather-light touch. It was cold, so impossibly cold,
Thalia’s eyes snapped open.
Her breath came in sharp, uneven pants as she lay frozen in bed, her fingers twitching against her cheek as if trying to grasp onto the ghost of his touch. It had felt so real. The coolness of his fingers, the way they had lingered, the way his eyes had stared into hers like he had known her forever.
She swallowed hard, forcing her gaze to adjust to the darkness of her dormitory. The only sound was the rhythmic rise and fall of Nyla’s soft snores from the bed beside her, a stark contrast to the erratic beating of her own heart.
With a quiet sigh, she pushed back her covers. She wasn’t getting back to sleep now.
The temple grounds were quiet at this hour; the world bathed in the dim silver glow of the twin moons hanging high above. The air carried a faint chill, but the familiar surroundings brought a sense of calm as Thalia walked the stone paths leading toward the library.
The grand temple loomed to her left, its marble pillars and intricate carvings whispering of centuries of worship. Small lanterns lined the walkways, flickering like fallen stars, their golden light casting soft shadows against the smooth stone. Somewhere in the distance, the faint rustling of night creatures stirred among the well-tended hedges and flower beds, but otherwise, all was still.
She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders.
