Page 46 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T he morning sun streamed into the dining hall, gilding the long wooden tables with golden light.

It was still early enough that most of the other apprentices hadn’t arrived yet.

The smell of fresh bread and warm honey lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of herbs drifting in from the hospital wing.

Thalia sat hunched over a bowl of oatmeal, prodding it absently with her spoon.

Her thoughts were tangled and frayed, still caught in the whirlwind of the night before.

She hadn’t expected to find Vaelith waiting for her at the temple.

Guarding it like some overly possessive sentinel.

Frustration coursed through her, with him there she had no way to see Caelum.

The familiar burning in her chest flared at the thought.

How dare he try to stop her, the memory of their argument in the corridor only fuelled her anger.

Despite her gratitude to Nyla for coming to her rescue, it had taken some time to reassure her friend that she was okay.

After attempting to explain what had happened she had collapsed on her bed desperate to sleep.

Yet sleep hadn’t come, she had tossed and turned for hours watching the sky outside her window slowly brighten with each hour.

Finally when she saw the dawn slowly spread across the sky she had closed her eyes, but her dreams had remained silent and empty, and when she woke the emptiness has only worsened.

Across from her, Cellen stirred his tea the sound of him repeatedly clanging the spoon off the edge of his cup reverberated through her entire body.

“Do you have to do that ?!” she snapped at him.

Narrowing his eyes, he gently placed the spoon on the table “Your brooding again.” was his only reply.

“I’m not brooding.” she snapped defensively.

“You are brooding,” Nyla said, sliding onto the bench beside Thalia. “But it’s okay, we understand your frustrations, Don’t we Cellen” she eyed him with a scolding look.

“Yes, we do, mostly”

Thalia sighed, she didn't mean to take her foul mood out on her friends, the lack of progress, Vaelith and her inability to see Caelum was manifesting itself in all the wrong ways. Rather than being grateful to her friends who were clearly as frustrated as she was with not finding references to the temple, despite hours and weeks of research, she was snapping at them. This wasn’t her, she made a mental note to be more grateful and less whatever this was towards them going forward.

She looked up at Cellen ready to apologise when she spotted Marand strolling for their table, hair in a loose braid over one shoulder, dark circles under her eyes.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Cellen said, scooting over to make room.

“I didn’t,” she replied, breathless and bright-eyed in a way that contradicted her appearance. She clutched a worn book in both hands a small, cloth-bound book, that was clearly old.

“I was in bed,” she said, settling down beside them, gratefully taking the cup Cellen now offered her “ I kept thinking about that line from the text Thalia found. The one about the shadows remembering what the world forgets?”

Thalia nodded slowly, afraid to get her hopes up.

“Well, it reminded me of something my mother used to sing to me. A nursery rhyme. One of those old, strange songs people forget. I couldn’t shake it. So, I got up and went through my old books I brought from home and,” She flipped open the book and turned it to a marked page. “Here. Listen.”

She cleared her throat, and in a quiet, steady yet lilting voice, began to sing:

“In the north where moonlight weeps, A forest waits in shadowed sleep. Where silence sings and rivers run, Beneath the breath of dying sun. Forgotten gods with eyes of night, Guard the gate from cursed light. And those who walk the forest deep, May wake the truth that none dare keep.”

The group fell silent.

Thalia felt a shiver trace her spine. Her voice was beautiful, haunting. It took a second before the words registered in her mind.

“Your mother sang that to you as a child?” Cellen finally broke the silence, eyes wide.

“She said it was from the old days. Before the wars. A piece of the past hidden in plain sight.” Marand answered shifting slightly in her chair, clearly embarrassed.

Nyla lay her arms on the table. “The forest in the north, do you think it could be the Forgotten Forest?”

Marand nodded. “That’s what I think. It says in the north where moonlight weeps, that could mean the highlands. Or even the edges of the old lands. Places people don’t travel anymore.”

Thalia’s heart beat faster. Her fingers closed around her spoon gripping it like a lifeline. “We could check the temple archives. Find maps of the old fae borders. Cross-reference with where rivers run north…”

“Oh, yes,” Cellen said. “Let’s definitely go digging for haunted god-infested shadow woods. What could possibly go wrong?”

Nyla elbowed him, but he grinned, unbothered by her.

“this feels like something. It could be our first real lead real.” He paused, suddenly glancing around the dining hall with exaggerated caution. “Are we sure he’s not lurking somewhere?”

Marand frowned. “Who?”

“Vaelith,” Nyla said, her voice a bit colder than usual. “He’s taken to guarding the temple doors at night. Apparently, he’s trying to stop Thalia from dream walking again.”

Marand turned sharply toward Thalia, concern knitting her brow. “Is that true?”

Thalia hesitated.

“I don’t know how he knows,” she murmured. “But he does. And he’s furious.”

“Well, that just confirms it,” Marand said, placing the storybook down. “If he’s that desperate to stop you, it means we’re close. We’re scaring him.”

Thalia tried to smile. Her friends’ faith in her steadied something deep in her chest.

Vaelith’s fury had been unrelenting. The way he’d spoken of Caelum with such hatred.

She couldn’t deny it had left her shaken, and if he knew her friends were helping her.

She was worried what he might do to them.

Yet this lullaby, it was something. A map, perhaps.

A song encoded in the minds of children to preserve what history had tried to erase.

She knew she needed their help to find it, the guilt of putting them in danger sat heavy on her shoulders.

“We’ll need to search the upper archives,” Marand said. “ I know they’re restricted but, some of the older temple maps might still show the wildlands before the borders changed.”

“I’ll charm a priestess,” Cellen offered. “With my irresistible charm, then I'll ask her for the maps, simple .”

“You’ll distract her,” Nyla corrected. “We’ll handle the maps and the charm.”

“Semantics.”

Thalia leaned back, watching them banter, warmth blooming in her chest. She couldn’t do this alone, and now, she didn’t have to.

The group finished their breakfast and began planning their next steps, when to meet in the library, what scrolls to seek, who could sneak into which restricted section.

Thalia sat quietly, the words still echoing in her mind.

Forgotten gods with eyes of night, Guard the gate from cursed light...

The door to the upper archives let out a low groan as it creaked open, just enough for Cellen to poke his head through. He squinted into the candlelit corridor, then glanced back at the others.

“All clear, for now,” he whispered dramatically. “Our journey into forbidden knowledge begins…”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “It’s a archives room, not a dragon’s hoard.”

“Well, now it’s significantly less exciting,” he muttered, pouting.

Nyla pushed him through the doorway lightly as she and Marand followed him inside.

Thalia stayed close behind looking around for any sign of shadows and a certain dragon lurking in them.

The four of them had timed their approach perfectly: late afternoon, when most apprentices were either in lessons or on hospital rounds.

It was still risky, especially since this section was overseen by one of the stricter priestesses, one Cellen had dubbed Mistress Killjoy.

“You remember the plan?” Marand asked, already scanning the layout of shelves and cabinets.

“I stand guard and distract if anyone comes,” Cellen said, straightening the collar of his robes with mock elegance, “you infiltrate.”

“Please be careful,” Thalia said, casting one last wary look down the corridor. “This section’s supposed to be off-limits to apprentices.”

Cellen placed a hand over his heart. “Thalia, you wound me. Has my subtlety ever failed you?”

Nyla let out a soft snort. “You think pretending to be a blind orphan in the potion stores was subtle?”

“I got us that extra bottle of fever tonic, didn’t I?”

“Let’s just get what we came for.”

The three girls slipped inside the rows of shelves while Cellen turned on his heel, squaring his shoulders and sauntering toward the end of the hall where the stern-faced Priestess Arissa usually kept watch.

He barely made it ten paces before her shadow loomed.

“Apprentice,” she said curtly, stepping forward. “You’re not assigned here.”

“Oh, Lady Arissa.” He gave an exaggerated bow. “What a vision you are. Were you sculpted by divine hands or just born beneath a particularly flirtatious constellation?”

Her brows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“Forgive me,” Cellen said, hand still clutching his heart. “I was struck blind by your beauty. Am I in the records wing? Or have I died and been led to paradise?”

Behind the shelves, Marand nearly choked on a laugh.

Thalia hissed under her breath. “Focus.”

Nyla and Marand began scanning the shelves, fingers flitting over old spines, while Thalia crouched between the scroll cabinets, heart hammering.

“Here,” Marand whispered, unrolling a long scroll. “These are pre-realignment maps before the war and the borders shifted.”

Nyla held up a faded parchment. “This has the leyline tracks. And look, this area near the northern cliffs… it’s labelled as an ‘untouched zone.’ No settlements. No patrol routes. Just marked ‘disputed territory.’”

“Could be it,” Thalia said breathlessly. “It fits the rhyme—the place where moonlight weeps.”

Heavy footsteps echoed across the tiled floor. Thalia froze. Nyla’s eyes widened in panic

“Someone’s coming.”

Another set of footsteps followed, lighter this time.

“Miryanne,” Arissa greeted coolly. “What brings you here?”

Thalia’s stomach flipped. Miryanne. Of course.

They pressed into the shadows between the scroll cabinets, barely breathing.

Thalia could feel the wild beat of her heart in her ears.

“I just needed to retrieve an old patient record,” Miryanne said. “One of the head priestesses requested it personally.”

“Well,” Arissa said, “make it quick. I’ve had enough of overeager apprentices trying to peek through the archives.”

From his post near the door, Cellen caught sight of them crouched behind the scroll cases and tilted his head in alarm.

Then, with the sheer gall only he possessed, he turned and said loudly, “Lady Arissa, forgive me, but… have you ever been courted by a bard? Because I’ve always been told I have the voice of a man fated to sing praises. ”

“I’m going to throttle him, he was supposed to be distracting her ” Marand whispered, gripping her scroll tightly.

“No,” Thalia whispered back, “let’s get what we need and get out of here .”

A few more tense minutes passed as Miryanne gathered a stack of records.

Thalia’s breath caught when her footsteps neared their hiding spot, but thankfully, she turned down the opposite row.

As soon as she was out of sight, the girls bolted out, scrolls clutched tight in their arms. Cellen was now on one knee strumming his invisible lute at the clearly stunned and irritated priestess.

They took the opportunity and headed straight out the door and down to the end of the corridor, ducking it a small alcove.

Cellen appeared a few moments later, with a large smirk on his face.

“Well?” he whispered.

All three held up their scrolls. “We got them”

He blew out a dramatic breath. “Thank the gods. I was this close” he held up two fingers “to having to sleep with her to keep her distracted, and while I'm all for being a team play that could have really damaged my reputation”

Marand burst into laughter.

“What reputation ? You sleep with everything and anything” Nyla asked, smirking.

“Please,” he scoffed. “My standards are terrible, but they’re not non-existent.”

They crept down the hallway, ducking back toward the dorms, the stolen scrolls hidden beneath their robes.

“I hope whatever’s on these maps is worth it,” Cellen added as they neared Thalia and Nyla’s room.

“If it leads us to the Forgotten Forest,” Thalia said, heart pounding, “it will be.”

She rubbed her chest absentmindedly; the burning was back. For some unexplainable reason she knew the only was to ease it would be to see Cellen, and theses scrolls might finally be the answers she needed.