Page 8 of Cursed Dreams (Shadow and Dreams #1)

T hat night, Thalia drifted into a deep and restless sleep, and with it came a dream.

She found herself in a forest, vast and endless, where towering emerald-leaved trees stretched toward the heavens.

Yet, despite their rich green hues, something about them felt muted, dulled, as though the very life had been softened, subdued.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and moss, but there was no breeze, no rustling of leaves, no chirping of birds. Just an eerie, all consuming stillness.

Yet, despite the unnatural quiet, it wasn’t frightening. If anything, it was inviting. Beckoning.

Something was calling her.

She didn’t know what or why, but the pull was undeniable. It whispered through her bones, stirred deep in her chest, a longing that made no sense but refused to be ignored.

Her feet moved before she even thought to command them. She ran.

She ran down winding, endless paths, past trees that loomed like silent sentinels, their gnarled roots twisting through the earth like forgotten veins. The mist curled around her ankles as she moved, cool against her skin, and the deeper she went, the stronger the pull became.

But no matter how fast she ran, no matter how many steps she took, she never seemed to get closer.

The thing she chased, this unknown, aching something, remained just out of reach, always slipping away like mist between her fingers.

Her heart pounded. Not with fear, but with longing .

Why did this feel so familiar?

Why did it feel like home ?

The dream never gave her an answer. Only the endless forest, the call she could never reach, and a longing that lingered deep within her chest even as the world began to blur, pulling her back toward wakefulness.

Thalia woke with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness. It sat heavy in her chest, lingering like the remnants of a forgotten dream. The forest… the calling… But as she tried to grasp the details, they slipped away like water through her fingers. It must have been exhaustion, nothing more.

A soft nudge against her arm pulled her from her thoughts. Tansy was perched beside her, amber eyes blinking expectantly. The little tabby let out a quiet chirp, pawing at her hand in a clear demand for attention.

She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her face before reaching out to scratch behind the cat’s ears. "You're relentless, you know that?" she murmured. Tansy purred in response, clearly unbothered by the accusation.

The scent of breakfast, warm bread and sizzling eggs, drifted in from the kitchen, accompanied by the familiar sounds of her mother bustling about. Pots clattered, chairs scraped against the wooden floor, Goldora hummed softly to herself, a tune Thalia had known since childhood.

Excitement bubbled beneath the surface of her exhaustion, but it was laced with a thin thread of trepidation. Today she would leave. She had worked so hard for this. She was ready, she had to be. A part of her already missed the home she hadn't even left yet.

Her gaze flickered across the small, cozy space she had called hers for as long as she could remember.

The bookcases, crammed full of well loved tomes, their pages worn and softened by years of eager fingers.

The thick, woven blankets her mother had made, draped over the foot of her bed.

Dried herbs hung near the window, their scent faint but familiar. It was a small room, but it was hers.

Her packed bags sat neatly by the door, ready and waiting. She had started gathering everything weeks ago, too eager to leave anything to chance. Now all that remained was getting dressed.

Slipping from the warmth of her bed, she padded over to where her fresh healer’s robes lay folded.

The pale blue fabric of the Amara Temple was soft beneath her fingertips, the colour a symbol of healing and devotion.

It felt surreal to finally wear them, to officially be recognized as a healer in training.

With careful hands, she slipped into the dress, smoothing out the delicate embroidery at the sleeves.

Her fingers brushed against the pendant at her neck, and she hesitated.

The necklace was an heirloom, an old, silver chain with a smooth, iridescent stone set in an intricate design.

It had been passed down from her father’s side, from a family line that stretched beyond memory.

Her grandparents had died long before she was born, leaving only stories and small treasures behind. This necklace was one of them.

For a fleeting moment, she considered taking it off. It wasn’t exactly part of the healer’s uniform, and she wanted to look proper. But as she held the pendant between her fingers, something in her resisted. She couldn’t remember a time she wasn’t wearing it.

With a quiet sigh, she let it rest against her skin. She would keep it on, it made her feel closer to home, to her father and mother both.

She turned back to her bed, where Tansy had already reclaimed the warm spot she’d left behind, curled up in a little ball of fur. A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached down to fuss the cat one last time.

"You can borrow my room till I come back," she whispered, scratching under Tansy's chin. The cat responded with a pleased purr, as if already accepting her new domain.

With one last lingering look around her room, she straightened her shoulders.

It was time to go.