Page 31 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

“W e thought we’d find you here.”

Thalia didn’t look up right away. Cellen’s voice, light with amusement, echoed gently through the high-arched aisles of the temple library.

She sat cross-legged on a cushioned bench by one of the long windows, a heavy tome balanced across her lap, scrolls and books spread out in a half-moon around her like a fortress of parchment.

This had become her sanctuary.

Her days had blurred into a quiet, determined rhythm; classes in the morning, hospital rounds in the afternoon, and hours in the archives each evening, scouring every inch of recorded history for any mention of Caelum, the Forgotten Fae Realms, the High Fae, or even the Dragon Wars. She’d found nothing.

Simply basic texts, summaries of well-worn lore that painted the High Fae as noble martyrs and the dragons as greedy forces of destruction.

There were names of gods and generals, of human kings and fae warriors, but none of them bore the face or the name of the male she’d met in the forest of her dreams.

Caelum didn’t exist in any record.

The male she was now convinced had somehow saved Aric’s life. There could be no other explanation.

Her search had turned into something close to obsession.

She spent every free moment tucked away in the archives, digging through old scrolls and forgotten records, chasing anything that mentioned dream walking or the Forgotten Realms. Without meaning to, she’d started pulling away from her friends, skipping meals, missing study sessions, always saying she was “just five more minutes.”

Caelum… how had he done it? The question wouldn’t leave her alone. She should’ve seen him again by now. Should’ve been able to ask. So why hadn’t he come back?

Aric had gone from death’s door to nearly dancing in the ward. He was already packing to go home, grinning wide and boasting he felt stronger than he had in his youth.

Each night she had gone to bed eager, her heart fluttering with a wild hope that he would be there waiting for her in that soft, glowing forest. Each morning, she woke disappointed.

No words. No touch. No answers.

Just that strange, aching sense of loss.

“Thalia?”

She blinked looking up to see Nyla and Cellen approaching, their arms full of texts of their own.

Nyla’s brow creased with concern. “What are you so studiously buried in now?”

She quickly shut the book on her lap and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Just brushing up on old magical illnesses and rituals. Thought it might help on rounds.”

Nyla didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push.

Cellen slid into the seat beside her with a theatrical groan.

“You know, you’re working yourself way too hard.

We kind of miss you in case you forgot we exist.” He grinned, nudging her playfully.

“And honestly, you’re way too pretty to be spending your nights buried in books like some tragic old scholar.

" He leaned back, giving her a sideways look. “If you’re really set on gathering as much dust as these scrolls, that’s your choice…

but I’m planning something a lot more interesting and maybe even a little fun you’re up for it? “

Thalia raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“There’s a city-wide festival tomorrow night,” he said, grinning. “A celebration in honour of Eshu. You know, our charming god of luck and fate?”

Thalia tilted her head. “Why now?”

“Once every ten years,” Nyla supplied, sliding into a seat. “The alignment of two of the moons is said to thin the veil between realms. People leave out offerings to Eshu to ask for blessings on big decisions, marriages, career paths, even questions of love.”

“And” Cellen added with a waggle of his brows, “the parties are legendary. Wine, music, dancing, and, if the gods are kind, a little fate-twisting of your own.”

Thalia laughed despite herself.

“Come with us,” Nyla said warmly. “You need a break. We all do.”

“I’ll think about it,”, her smile fading just slightly.

Cellen groaned. “That’s code for no. I swear, if this library had a tavern in the corner, you’d never leave, or is that me?”

Thalia smirked as Nyla playfully shoved his shoulder, and the three of them shared a brief bubble of laughter.

They stood to leave, each with an armful of notes and assignments to review.

“Try to do something fun,” Cellen added, giving her a knowing look before heading toward the exit.

Nyla lingered behind, hesitant.

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” she asked softly, her warm brown eyes searching Thalia’s. “If you’re homesick… I’d understand. I was, too, at first. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

Thalia felt a tightness crawl up her throat. She offered a quick nod.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m okay.”

She lingered for another heartbeat, clearly unconvinced, then gave a small smile and left.

As the door closed behind her friends, Thalia’s dropped her head in her hands.

They meant well, she knew that, but none of them would understand the truth. She couldn't fully understand it herself.

She wasn’t homesick. She missed him. The fae prince with starlit eyes.

How could she explain it to them, if she told them she was pining for a male from her dreams who claimed to be a prince of a realm that didn’t exist, they’d march her straight to the healers and prescribe her a week of rest and calming teas.

She leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh, staring up at the soaring ceiling of the library, frustration prickling beneath her skin.

Where are you, Caelum?

Why won’t you come back to me?

By the time Thalia finally closed the last book and set it aside, her eyes burned, her neck ached, and her back protested every movement. The library had emptied out hours ago, only the dim golden sconces lit the soaring archways now, and even the hushed rustle of pages had gone still.

She rubbed her temples, standing slowly, her body stiff from hours spent poring over ancient ink and fading script. As she gathered her things, she cast one final glance at the old tome tucked beneath her arm—the one with his portrait.

Caelum.

She clutched the book a little tighter and stepped into the cool night air.

The corridor was silent, save for the soft crackling of braziers and the distant whisper of the evening breeze brushing across the temple’s stone eaves. Shadows danced across the flagstones as Thalia walked slowly through the winding passage, her steps echoing in the stillness.

She passed under the ivy-laced archway leading toward the central courtyard, ready to make her way back to the dormitories, when a faint sound caught her ear.

Chanting.

Low. Melodic. Familiar.

Her heart stilled.

It was coming from inside the Temple.

Drawn by something she didn’t fully understand, Thalia turned. Her feet moved of their own accord, each step lighter than the last as she crossed the open path and approached the glowing entrance.

The heavy doors stood ajar, soft light spilling out in golden waves, casting eerie shadows across the threshold. The scent of fresh jasmine and lavender oil met her nose first soothing and bittersweet, like the kiss of a memory.

Inside, the air was thick with incense smoke. The temple felt alive, like magic clung to the very stones, humming with quiet reverence.

Rows of hooded priestesses stood in perfect lines, their robes a deep shade of pale blue, the embroidered sigils of Amara stitched into the hems in shimmering thread. Their voices layered in perfect harmony, a haunting, rhythmic chant that echoed through the open chamber like waves lapping a shore.

The statue of the goddess stood tall at the front of the temple—arms outstretched, face serene, bathed in flickering candlelight. Offerings of flowers painted stones, and woven charms had been placed at her feet, their colours glowing beneath the soft flames.

Thalia moved like a shadow, quiet and unnoticed, sliding into one of the stone benches at the very back. She set the book beside her, folded her hands in her lap, and let the sound of the priestesses’ song wash over her.

The tension in her shoulders began to ease.

She closed her eyes.

Please, she whispered silently to the goddess of love and light, let me find him again. Let him come to me. Let me speak to him, even just for a moment.

The chanting rose and fell in time with her breath.

The scents, the sounds, the warmth of the temple, it all wrapped around her like a balm. Her body, exhausted, began to relax. The weight of unanswered questions, of sleepless nights, began to sink down into the stone beneath her.

Slowly, her thoughts drifted.

The harmony of the priestesses' voices stretched long and low, until it was more a hum within her than a sound she heard. Her limbs grew heavy. Her heartbeat slowed, and the darkness behind her eyelids deepened into something velvet and endless.

She was falling, there was only one person she hoped would be there to catch her.

As soon as the forest mist parted, Thalia saw him standing in the same clearing where their paths always met, where starlight filtered through the towering trees and the earth itself seemed to hum with breathless anticipation.

He stood motionless beneath the shimmering leaves, his silver-threaded cloak stirring only slightly in the breeze that didn’t quite reach her. His pale blue eyes found her instantly, soft and bright, like moonlight across still water. He opened his arms.

Without thinking, Thalia ran.

Her feet moved before her mind could catch up, leaves crunching softly underfoot as she rushed into his embrace.

The moment his arms wrapped around her, something inside her gave way. The tightness in her chest, the frustration, the days spent yearning for answers, it all broke open.

His form was warm and solid, the fabric of his tunic soft against her cheek as he drew her in close.

She buried herself against him, unable to explain the way her heartbeat faster than it ever had, or why the smell of him, earth, wind, starlight, was somehow both unfamiliar and home.