Page 20 of Cursed Dreams
She found herself smiling slightly. “Was he a hunter, then?”
Vaelith glanced at her, amusement flickering behind his eyes. “Something like that.”
Not exactly an answer, her thoughts wandered, and she wondered what affiliation Vaelith had, had she even seen his magic?
She huffed. “You’re infuriatingly vague.”
“And you’re painfully easy to read.”
She scowled. “I am not.”
Vaelith smirked. “You are. Just now, you were wondering what kind of magic I have.”
Thalia stiffened. “How did you—” She groaned, rubbing her temple. “I hate that you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Read my mind.”
“I don’t read minds.”
“You absolutely read minds.”
Vaelith looked far too pleased with himself, and Thalia rolled her eyes. But despite her irritation, she was still curious.
She knew nothing about his magic. Did he have a water affiliation, like Marcus’? Or earth like her parents? He seemed like someone who could wield something steady, solid, immovable.
She thought of her father’s stories. The ancient legends of the High Fae, the ones who wielded celestial magic, bending light and shadow to their will. They had been wiped out long ago, their magic fading into myth. As ridiculous as it was, she couldsee Vaelith wielding something like that. The thought sobered her. Her mother was right she needed to let go of her books and live in the real world.
Vaelith’s voice pulled her from her thoughts again. “If you ever feel homesick, you’re welcome to seek me out.”
Thalia blinked at him, surprised once more by the unexpected kindness beneath his usual dry tone.
He pointed to a constellation in the sky, “That constellation there is Reticulum”
Thalia followed his gaze,
“Long ago, when the stars were still being named and the gods still whispered in mortal ears, there lived a Fae goddess known only as Nalyra, the Weaver of Truths. Nalyra did not fight wars or command storms. Her power lay in the quiet. With silver-threaded fingers, she spun the Celestial Net, a lattice of light stretched across the heavens, meant to catch thefragments of fate that slipped through even Esku’s careful hands. Some say her net was what held the stars in place; others whisper it was made to trap lies, drifting loose from the world below.”
Thalia listened intently, he continued,
“The constellation Reticulum, to the untrained eye, is faint, just a scattering of delicate stars. But to the Fae, it is sacred. They say it is the last remnant of Nalyra’s woven net, the place where truths too dangerous to speak aloud are hidden. It glows faintly because it is still catching things, forgotten names, half spoken prophecies, and souls that slipped too early from the mortal coil.”
Thalia turned to look at Vealith then, he looked younger, wistful it was the most emotion she had seen him show.
“Priestesses of Esku often offer a single golden thread beneath Reticulum during stargazing festivals, hoping the Weaver will mend what fate has frayed. And some Fae believe that if you dream beneath the Net on a moonless night, you may awaken knowing something you were never meant to.”
She stared at the constellation, she had never heard this story before.
“That is where your village lies” “That is your home”
Thalia once again turned to stare at him, she opened her mouth to ask him more but to
her absolute bewilderment, he bowed.
A full, formal bow, like he was a travelling bard. She smiled
“That was... dramatic.”
