Page 5 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

A s she approached home, the warm glow of the cottage lights spilled onto the garden path, casting flickering golden patterns across the vines and wildflowers that clung to the stone walls.

The scent of late-summer blooms mingled with the rich, earthy aroma of the herbs her mother tended with loving care. It smelled like home.

And she would be leaving it behind.

Slowing her steps, she paused just outside the wooden door.

Through the open window, laughter spilled into the evening air. Her mother’s soft giggles were met with the deep, rumbling chuckle of her father.

Thalia peered in, an unshakable fondness settling in her chest.

Rodric had Goldora wrapped in his arms, swaying them both in a slow, exaggerated dance as she half-heartedly swatted at him.

His broad shoulders shook with laughter as he twirled her around the kitchen, his golden-brown hair tousled and unkempt.

Goldora, usually so composed and fussing over something, was laughing, her hands pressed against his chest in a failed attempt to stop his antics.

“I have work to do,” she huffed between giggles, but her delighted expression betrayed her protest.

“You always have work to do,” Rodric countered, grinning. “And yet, the festival won’t start for hours. Plenty of time to admire your dashing husband.”

Goldora rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered as she finally gave in, resting her forehead against his shoulder.

Thalia felt a pang in her chest.

She would miss this. She would miss them.

Pushing the feeling aside before it could settle too deeply, she stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the cottage wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

The air was thick with the scent of dried lavender and chamomile, the hearth crackling softly in the background.

Woven baskets filled with herbs lined the wooden shelves, their vibrant greens and deep purples standing out against the smooth stone walls.

Her mother had clearly been busy preparing for the festival, freshly picked flowers were spread across the worn wooden table, their petals carefully sorted into arrangements.

A mix of fragrant oils and balms sat beside them, likely meant for the festival-goers who wanted to add a touch of glamour to their evening.

Rodric turned at the sound of the door, his face breaking into an easy smile. “There’s our brilliant healer,” he said, spreading his arms wide as if expecting her to come running into them.

Goldora turned as well, her sharp eyes immediately scanning Thalia’s face. “How did it go?”

Thalia barely managed to hold back her grin as she set her satchel down. “I passed.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Goldora was pulling her into a tight hug, her warmth and the scent of chamomile surrounding Thalia completely. “Oh, my girl,” Goldora murmured, holding her close. “I knew you would.”

Rodric let out a triumphant whoop, grabbing Thalia’s hands and spinning her in a circle despite her protests. “I told you there was nothing to worry about! You are my daughter, after all. Brilliance is in your blood.”

Goldora smacked his arm lightly. “And mine, I assume?”

Rodric feigned deep thought. “Mm. You have your charms, my love, but let’s be honest,”

Before he could finish, Goldora flicked her fingers, and the vines from the ceiling dipped down, swatting Rodric lightly on the head. He yelped, laughing as he batted them away.

Thalia shook her head, a breathless laugh escaping her. This was home. This was them.

It would be hard to leave, but at least she would be leaving with this moment in her heart.

As she turned toward the hearth, something caught her eye.

A dress.

A deep green gown with intricate gold embroidery rested over the wooden chair near the fire, clearly made with care. The fabric shimmered faintly in the firelight, and the detailing delicate vines and leaves, was undoubtedly her mother’s handiwork.

Thalia’s lips parted slightly in surprise. Normally, she would groan at yet another dress made in her mother’s taste, elegant, a little too decorative for her liking, but tonight… tonight, she didn’t mind.

Tonight, she had passed. Tonight, she would celebrate.

Even if it meant wearing a dress covered in Goldora’s beloved embroidery.

Thalia barely had time to fully absorb the sight of the dress before her mother was ushering her toward the vanity, her hands already moving with purpose.

“We’ll have to do something with this hair of yours,” Goldora murmured, more to herself than to Thalia, as she reached for a comb. “It’s always such a wild thing.”

Thalia huffed but didn’t argue, letting her mother fuss as she sank onto the wooden stool by the vanity.

The mirror reflected the soft glow of the hearth behind them, casting warm light over the room.

Goldora’s fingers worked quickly, weaving strands of Thalia’s hair into delicate braids before pulling them into an elegant half-up style, leaving the rest cascading over her shoulders.

As her mother busied herself, a familiar weight landed on her lap.

“Tansy,” Thalia laughed as the tabby cat made herself comfortable, curling into a ball and purring loudly.

“Oh, you would think I wasn’t in the middle of something,” Goldora tsked, but there was no real annoyance in her tone.

Thalia scratched behind Tansy’s ears, the cat leaning into her touch with a deep, rumbling purr. “She’s just making sure I don’t run away before you’re finished torturing me.”

Goldora chuckled, working in a delicate golden thread through one of the braids. Then, her hands slowed. “You’ll be careful in Vertrose, won’t you?”

Thalia glanced up, catching her mother’s reflection in the mirror. Goldora wasn’t looking at her, but her expression was tight with concern.

“I’ll be fine, Mother,” Thalia reassured, tilting her head slightly as Goldora resumed her braiding. “I’ll be surrounded by other healers. It’s not as if I’m going into battle.”

Goldora let out a soft breath, fingers still weaving. “I know, but the city is different from here. Busier. Not everyone will look out for you the way we do here.”

Thalia turned slightly, reaching up to place her hand over her mother’s. “I’ll be fine,” she said gently. “I’ll come home to visit. I promise.”

Goldora let out a quiet laugh, though her eyes shimmered slightly. “You’d better.”

Thalia gave her mother’s hand a small squeeze before letting go. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment as Goldora finished her hair, Thalia hesitated, thinking back to earlier.

“There was something odd today,” she admitted, watching her mother’s reaction carefully. “Vaelith, the ability assessor when he tested my magic, it was… different. It felt like he was pulling something from me, then after he looked almost. Shocked. He asked about my lineage.”

Goldora’s hands stilled completely.

It was only for a fraction of a second, but Thalia felt the shift in the air.

Then, her mother resumed, far too casually. “I imagine it’s just because our family’s magic is strong,” she said lightly, but Thalia could hear the forced ease in her tone.

Thalia frowned slightly. “I don’t know. It wasn’t just that.

He looked interested, like it wasn’t what he expected.

The look he had after, for a moment, he reminded me of the stories Father used to tell me, about the High Fae, like he was somehow descended from them he looked ethereal.

” She let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

“Obviously, that’s ridiculous, but it was just… a strange feeling.”

Goldora’s hands tightened ever so slightly in Thalia’s hair.

Then, she exhaled, shaking her head. “It is ridiculous,” she agreed quickly. Too quickly. “The High Fae were lost in the war. None remain. Your head is so filled with stories from your books, you need to live a little !”

Thalia glanced up again, catching her mother’s gaze in the mirror. There was something guarded in her expression, something distant.

“Just avoid Vaelith wherever possible,” Goldora said finally, meeting Thalia’s eyes in the mirror. “Don’t give him a reason to look too closely at you. He's known in Vertrose as being ruthless”

Thalia’s brow furrowed, but before she could press further, Goldora stepped back, brushing her hands together as if to rid herself of the conversation. “There. Your hair is done. I need to finish preparations for the festival—don’t you dare undo my work before then.”

With that, she turned and busied herself with the herbs and oils on the table, her back now to Thalia.

Thalia let out a small breath, turning back to her reflection.

Something about her mother’s reaction unsettled her.

Goldora wasn’t usually so dismissive. It was clear something in that conversation had hit a nerve.

She exhaled slowly, pushing the thoughts away for now. Instead, she focused on the girl staring back at her in the mirror.

The dress fit perfectly, the rich green fabric draping over her frame in elegant folds. The golden embroidery shimmered in the firelight, intricate and delicate. Her hair, carefully braided with gold threads, framed her face in soft waves, making her eyes stand out brighter than usual.

She looked… beautiful.

Even she had to admit it.

Tansy stretched on her lap, lifting her head to bump against Thalia’s arm in what could only be approval.

Thalia let out a soft laugh, scratching beneath the cat’s chin. “Well, I’ll take that as your approval.”

Though she wasn’t one for grand festivals, tonight was different. Tonight, she would celebrate.