Page 93 of Cursed Dreams
Despite herself, Thalia snorted.
“There she is,” Cellen said brightly, leaning back in his chair. “There’s our sunshine. You look so much prettier when you smile, You need to start thinking of your frown lines Thal your only lesser fae”
“I’m going to smother you with a pillow,” Thalia muttered.
“Do it. I’ll die pretty.”
Nyla and Marand both chuckled, despite the obvious tension, she was happy to have her friends around her. She had missed them, her secrets had left her feeling lonely and isolated. She longed to tell them everything maybe they would help her?
The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures, healing simulations, and hospital rounds. Thalia tried to stay focused, but her mind kept drifting, she was desperate to head back to the library. By evening, they were seated in the temple gardens, enjoying a rare break beneath the golden light of the setting sun. Students mingled across the lawns, the air alive with conversation and music drifting from the city amphitheatre.
“I heard tomorrow they’re hosting another open-air recital,” Marand said, picking at the petals of a wildflower. “Some traveling fae musicians.”
“Oh no,” Cellen groaned. “Not another one of those melancholic flute groups. They make me want to throw myself into the river.”
“I like the flutes,” Nyla said, mock offended.
“You would,” he teased. “You’re emotionally stable.”
Nyla laughed “There’s supposed to be a street party after “
“Ooo count me in “ Marand exclaimed
“ Well, we all know if your going Cellen’s sure to follow”
“Hey!”
“Thal you coming?”
Thalia shifted uncomfortably, “I can’t sorry, I- I need to brush up on my diagnosis charms, Elric will have a fit if I get anything wrong again”
Her friends stared at her for a long moment. She kept her gaze on the horizon. Not wanting to meet their eyes. “Next time though!” Before anyone could protest, she quickly made her excuses and headed back to the dormitory.
That night, Thalia waited until she was sure Nyla was asleep before slipping out of bed and dressing by moonlight. She padded silently through the corridors, down to the restricted archives again. She Knew the consequence if she was caught could mean immediate expulsion, but she didn’t care. She needed answers.
The air in the restricted archives was always cold. Not in the way that made her shiver, but in that hollow way, like time itself had paused. Thalia moved slowly between the shelves, her fingertips brushing the worn leather spines, half-faded titles written in dialects she barely recognized. Most students never came this deep. Even many of the priestesses rarely bothered with the unindexed vaults, but Thalia had realised that the answers she was looking for wouldn’t be on neat shelves under labelled scrolls.
She paused at a crooked case tucked in the far back corner. The wood bowed slightly, like the weight of the history it held had finally taken its toll .Her eyes scanned the haphazardly stacked volumes, she didn’t know exactly what she was looking for. Only that she’d know it when she saw it.
Her fingers brushed over a small, warped book tucked behind two thick encyclopaedias of leyline theory. It was bound in cracked black leather, its title almost illegible. A single faded symbol etched into the cover caught the faint light, interlocking circles, with what looked like spirals branching outward like threads unravelling. She pulled it free. The pages whispered as she turned them, brittle and yellowed. Most were filled with inconsistent script, some sections almost manic, as though the writer had scrawled in a rush. There were fragments of prayers, obscure references to rituals, a list of gods with no descriptions, just names that appeared to have been written in haste. Carefully she turned the pages. Near the back she found a page that had clearly been folded dozens of times, its edges torn and smudged with age. She opened it carefully. It was a sketch. Faint, but intact. A map? No, more like a tracing of an old carving. It depicted a rough, tiered structure, trees surrounded it, dense and thorny. A river cut through the land below. And beneath the sketch, in faded ink, one word. Kek. Her breath hitched. She ran her trembling fingers over the ink afraid it might vanish. The temple was real, and she had finally found her first clue. A rush of emotion surged through her chest. Her thoughts shifted to Caelum’s words; Find the temple, and you’ll find the answers.
Her throat tightened. What did it mean that her fate was tied to something the world had erased? She leaned back in the chair, eyes still fixed on the sketch, her pulse thudding in her ears. She traced the sketch with one finger, as though by touching the ink she could be drawn into it. A whisper passed over herskin, not a sound, more a sense. She suddenly had the feeling as though something or someone was watching her. She scanned her surroundings; she was still alone. Her fingers trembled. She scanned rest of the pages in the book, there was no more details on its location, no context just jumbled half written prose on ancient pathways, something that looked as though it said vanishing gods? And a strange diagram of a magical convergence so complex her head hurt.
Thalia closed the book slowly, her hands were steady now, her heartbeat slower. The silence of the archive pressed in around her like a shroud, it may not be the answers she was looking for, but it was definitely a positive start, after weeks of disappointment this was more than enough to help raise her spirits. She slipped the book into the pocket of her robe, careful not to bend the fragile cover, and slowly made her way out of the archives, toward the dim corridor leading back to her dormitory.
Chapter 21
The morning light streamed through the arched window of the dormitory, soft and golden, making the air feel warmer than it was. Thalia sat at the edge of her bed, a mug of tea cooling in her hands, untouched. Her dreamless sleep had done little to clear her mind. Her thoughts were a swirling tangle, of Caelum, the archives and the stolen book now hidden safely away in her satchel. She rubbed her thumb absently along the curve of her mug, the rim now lukewarm against her skin. Outside the window, she watched as the gardens were already buzzing with life, novices hanging laundry, a pair of junior healers practicing their projection spells near the hedges. Everything looked so… normal, yet nothing felt that way to her anymore.
Something had shifted, all she had ever wanted was to be a healer, to come to Vertrose and prove herself, yet it all seemed so irrelevant now. Her world was a lie, the fae were not gone, and their Princes fate was somehow inter twined with hers. The pressure weighed heavy on her. Looking away from the window she suddenly became aware of the way the shadows stretched longer than they should in the corners of rooms, as though the darkness of her thoughts were creeping into the room trying toswallow her. A bitter chill prickled her skin despite no windows being open. She shook off the foreboding sensations and dressed quickly, gathering her satchel for the morning's classes. Nyla was still dozing, limbs tangled in her blanket, one arm stretched protectively over the small plush owl she refused to admit she slept with. Thalia smiled faintly, but the weight in her chest didn’t lift.
By the time she slipped out into the hallway, the corridor was busy with other apprentices, chatter bouncing off the stone. Her footsteps joined the rhythm of the morning shuffle toward the grand atrium. As she reached the staircase, a shiver trickled down her spine. She paused. There was no sound behind her. No footsteps. No movement. Still the hairs on her arms lifted anyway. You're imagining it, she told herself, she still checked over her shoulder. Nothing. There was no one there, yet she could not escape the sensation she was being watched. Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of her paranoia, she continued on her way.
By midday, the sun was high, and Thalia sat with Cellen, Nyla, and Marand beneath one of the broad old elms in the south courtyard, a spread of books and notes between them.
“You’re distracted again,” Cellen said, nudging her boot with his. “If you were any more out of it, I’d start charging rent for the space you’re occupying in another plane.”
Thalia blinked, torn from her thoughts. “Sorry. Just tired.”
