Page 75 of Cursed Dreams
Her heart skipped. The Dragon Wars were a cornerstone of both fae and human history, they had always seemed like something distant, the stuff of bedtime tales and dusty scrolls.
“You were there?” she asked, voice soft. “Really there?”
Caelum’s eyes returned to hers, and there was a storm behind them, crackling at the edges.
“I was a prince of my people,” he said. “It was my duty. The dragons… they were ancient, powerful beings. Visionaries, some called them. They believed the world had lost its way—that it needed reshaping, rescuing.”
Thalia tilted her head slightly, trying to understand the nuance in his voice.
“They thought they alone could guide the realms,” Caelum continued, his tone careful, almost detached. “That they had the wisdom to bring about a new age. That their will was the truest path forward.”
He paused, his expression unreadable. “We… we fought to restore the rightful balance. To return the world to what it was always meant to be.”
There was a weight in those words. Not quite harsh, but definite. Resolved. Something flickered behind his eyes, too complex for her to read.
Thalia furrowed her brow. “You mean the fae fought for peace?”
Caelum’s lips twitched, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We believed we were fighting for what was right. For order. For the survival of the realms.”
A chill ran down her spine at the way he said it—not cruel, but certain. Like a man repeating a truth that had been carved too deeply into his soul to question.
Thalia frowned, hanging on his every word. The soft breeze in the forest seemed to hush around them, as if the trees themselves were listening.
“We fought to restore balance,” he went on, his voice low and steady. “The fae sought peace, a world where magic flowed correctly and the realms worked together. But the dragons… they wanted dominion. They tricked us.”
He paused, his jaw tightening, and Thalia saw something ancient and wounded flicker in his expression.
“What do you mean?” she asked gently.
“They lured us into a final stand,” Caelum said, his voice growing quieter. “They made us believe we could end the war. But it was a trap. A spell of forgetting was cast, stronger than any I had ever seen. It didn’t just take lives. It erased our names, our legacy, our realm.”
Thalia felt her breath catch.
“Even now,” Caelum continued, “I cannot speak the name of the land I once called home. The magic holds, even here. All that remains is a title. The Forgotten Realm.”
She could feel the truth of it. The weight of his words settled into her chest, and her heart ached with something she couldn’t name.
“You were erased,” she whispered.
Caelum nodded. “All of us. Scattered to time, trapped between worlds. Lost to history. And I… I was left behind.”
“Why you?” she asked, her voice soft.
“In the final days,” he said slowly, “I met a seer. A powerful one. She told me I would cease to walk the waking world. That I would become... unanchored—drifting between what was and what could be.” “A dream realm”
Thalia’s breath caught in her chest “That’s… horrible.”
“But she also told me to hold on,” Caelum said, his voice gentling. “That my salvation would come. A light in the dark. A healer of fates. A goddess named... Thalia.”
Her mouth fell open. “A what?”
He smiled.
“She said your name would be Thalia. That you would come when all was nearly lost, and that you would remember me, even if you didn’t know why.”
Thalia gaped at him. “That’s—no. That can’t be. I’m not a goddess. I’m just a lesser fae. A healer. I grew up in a cottage with my mother fretting about wildflowers and my father charming the stones out of the earth. I can’t even ride a horse.”
Caelum chuckled, the sound deep and warm.
