Page 58 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T he next morning, they set off at first light. Try as she might Thalia had struggled to sleep after Vaelith had left, afraid to close her eyes in case she missed the shadows of him charging back down the road, realising he had been lied to.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, winding through tall golden grasses that swayed in the soft breeze.

The wheels of Aric’s wagon creaked rhythmically as it bumped over the uneven dirt path, with each jolt she could feel a headache take root.

Cellen and Marand sat side by side, their flirtatious banter drifting back to the front wagon bench where Thalia sat beside Aric.

“You keep talking like that,” Marand was teasing, “and I might start believing you’re charming.”

Cellen pressed a hand to his heart. “Ah, the wound, Marand. Straight through.”

Aric chuckled. “They always like this?” he asked Thalia with amusement.

“Unfortunately,” she smiled half-heartedly, her thoughts were still stuck in the previous night, her guilt at now involving Aric gnawing at her.

She glanced sideways at him, hesitating. “Aric… what did you mean last night? When you said you’d heard of Vaelith?”

Aric’s expression sobered. He focused on the road ahead, his mouth tightening.

“Please,” she said softly, “if there’s something you know… I need to hear it.”

He sighed. “It’s just stories, really. Stories passed around taverns, from merchants, old soldiers.”

Thalia leaned in slightly. “I’ve heard stories too. I just need to know which ones are true.”

Aric was quiet for a moment, then spoke, his voice low. “I heard of Lord Vaelith’s role in the rebellion. That much I know is true. The way he fought. What he did.”

“You mean the rebellion where the humans wanted the fae to leave their lands?” she asked, trying to sound neutral.

Aric made a noncommittal sound, not quite a yes. “That’s one version.”

She turned toward him, heart beginning to race. “What do you mean… one version?”

He glanced at her, brow furrowed. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” she said, more firmly now. “I’ve known Vaelith for months. And I’ve seen enough to know nothing would surprise me anymore.”

Aric exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Alright. The version I heard… wasn’t about humans wanting to expel the fae.

It was about humans and fae, together, trying to break the curse of the High Fae.

They believed the High Fae never died in the war.

That they were cursed instead. Forced into sleep by dragon fire, sealed away. ”

Thalia stared at him, stunned.

“They believed,” Aric continued, “that if they could break the dragon curse, the High Fae would return. And with them, a balance would be restored. Power, freedom… maybe even magic in its purest form again. The rebellion wasn’t against the fae. It was for the High Fae. To bring them back.”

Thalia’s breath caught in her throat. Her pulse pounded in her ears. There was a rebellion, people knew about the lie!

Aric shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tavern stories. Probably nothing to it. But the people who believed it? They believed it with everything they had. Some still do.”

“Anyways, that’s all speculation. What is true, is that when Lord Vaelith walked onto that battlefield, Hundreds died.” “The male is lethal! He kills without thought or mercy. Some say he is soulless”

Silence followed. Thalia played the word over in her mind ... Hundreds.

Quietly so only she could hear Aric warned her “I say this as your friend Miss Thalia, if he’s taken an interest in you… tread carefully. He doesn’t toy. He destroys. And once you’re on his radar, there’s no such thing as safe.”

Thalia nodded numbly.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur of quiet reflection.

The wagon rocked gently over the dirt road, but Thalia barely noticed.

It wasn’t just what Aric had told her; it was what it meant.

There had been a rebellion. Others had known the truth.

They had risen up and risked everything to challenge the version of history everyone else had been taught.

She couldn’t stop wondering how they had discovered it. How many had stood against it. Where any of them were still alive? And if they were would they be willing to help her now?

Vaelith had killed hundreds. Her stomach twisted. She had known he was dangerous, but not to this scale. Not with the power to bury entire truths and erase those who dared to speak to them.

She glanced at her friends, a fresh wave of guilt washing over her.

If Vaelith came for them, it would be because of her.

And if he had crushed a rebellion without mercy, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill the 5 of them.

There would be no safety left for any of them now.

She pulled her cloak tighter, trying to quiet the fear clawing at her chest.

It was late afternoon by the time the temple finally came into view, rising from the dense forest like a beacon.

It was smaller than the one in Vertrose but no less elegant, its pale stone catching the sunlight in soft, golden hues.

Carved symbols of Amara, the goddess of love and light, adorned its gates.

Vines wrapped lovingly around the edges, as if nature herself protected it.

Aric slowed the wagon and pulled the reins gently, bringing them to a halt just outside the main path.

“Well,” he said with a warm grin, jumping down with the ease of a man who was much younger than his actual age “Looks like this is where I let you lot get yourselves into more trouble.”

Thalia jumped down from the wagon after him. “Thank you,” she said, voice quiet, earnest. “For everything. For the ride. For… last night.”

He looked at her, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You’ve got something big ahead of you, don’t you?”

Thalia hesitated, then nodded.

Aric stepped forward and hugged her tightly, one strong arm around her shoulders. “Be safe, Miss Thalia,” he murmured. “And trust yourself. Even when it’s hard. Stany true to your yourself!”

She blinked rapidly, overcome with emotion. “I will.”

He pulled back, squeezing her arm before climbing back onto the wagon and waving to the others.

“If any of you ever need another getaway cart,” he called over his shoulder, “I charge in gossip, not coin.” His infectious laughter rang out down the road as the wagon pulled away, leaving dust in its wake

The moment they stepped through the arched entryway of the smaller Temple of Amara, a breeze scented with lavender and herbs swirled around them, catching in Thalia’s hair, making her feel calmer that she had all day.

The interior was warm and welcoming, lit by golden sconces and hanging lanterns that glowed like captured starlight.

Vines of jasmine curled along the walls, and soft chants echoed faintly from somewhere deeper within.

Before Thalia could get her bearings, a tall priestess appeared around the corner, robes fluttering behind her as she strode briskly toward them. Her long brown hair was threaded with silver, and her eyes sparkled with barely restrained excitement.

“You must be Thalia,” the woman said, clasping her hands and smiling so brightly it nearly stunned her. “And your companions! We received a message this morning from High Priestess Elara herself. We were expecting your arrival in a day or two, you have made wonderful time. Please, Come, come.”

Thalia blinked, surprised, exchanging a quick glance with Nyla. “You… did?”

“Oh yes!” the woman nodded enthusiastically, beckoning them to follow as she led them through the entry corridor.

“Elara said you were on a divine mission. The mission. You have no idea how long we’ve waited.

How many prayers we’ve whispered, for something like this.

If the High Fae return, as the scrolls once prophesied…

well.” She gave Thalia a reverent look. “We are at your disposal.”

Thalia’s stomach twisted with a mix of nerves and disbelief. All of them knowing, already, about her mission unsettled her, even with the priestess’s open kindness.

Behind her, Cellen muttered, “Divine mission? Stars above, should we be walking in formation or something?”

“Maybe with matching cloaks,” Marand added with a wry grin. “Deep navy, to bring out your eyes.”

Thalia shot them both a look over her shoulder, rendering them quiet.

The priestess, clearly unaware of their mocking, ushered them into a wide corridor that opened into the main hall. “You’ll be needing food and rest before anything else. The hall is laid out, fresh stew, bread, honeyed fruits. You’ll eat, and then I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“I don’t suppose that comes with a foot massage and a hot bath too?” Cellen asked, dragging his feet dramatically. “Because I might be divine-adjacent now, but I still have blisters.”

Nyla elbowed him, stifling a laugh. “For once, I agree my muscles ache, and my feet!”

Marand shook her head. “I’ll settle for a comfortable bed and pillow, I’m exhausted.”