Chapter 5: The Dream That Should Not Exist
The dream began with silence.
Not the peaceful kind, but with the heavy and suffocating stillness that pressed against Princess Elowen's senses like deep water against the lungs. She was standing barefoot on cold stone, her white nightgown brushing against her ankles, though she did not remember going to sleep.
The sky above was wrong.
It was not dark, nor was it light. A vast expanse of dull gray stretched endlessly overhead, unmoving and lifeless, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
"Elowen."
Her name echoed in that space.
She turned.
The academy stood before her, yet it was not the academy she knew. Its towers were fractured, its walls cracked and overgrown with black veins of stone that pulsed faintly, like a living heart buried beneath the structure.
The ground trembled.
She took a step back as the earth split open before her, revealing a massive circular sigil carved deep into the foundation of the academy. Runes older than language glowed faintly, their shapes shifting when she tried to focus on them.
*I've seen this before,* she realized with dread.
In every dream I've seen this nightmare. But something was different this time.
The seal was open.but it's not broken, it's unlocked.
A presence stirred below, vast and patient. It did not rush. Nor it is roaring. It simply waited, as though confident she will come back to it.
Chains of light stretched across the sigil, trembling under invisible strain. Each chain bore a symbol—crowns, swords, wings, and eyes—representations of royal bloodlines long extinct.
All except one.
Her chest tightened as she saw it.
A single chain marked with the sigil of Viremont.
Her bloodline, and fate
"Elowen."
The voice came again, closer this time.
She turned toward the sound—and froze.
Lucien Arkwright stood at the edge of the sigil.
But it was not the Lucien she knew.
His eyes glowed faintly, etched with symbols that burned without heat. Shadows clung to him unnaturally, bending toward his form as though drawn by gravity. The scar on his stomach pulsed softly, and when he looked at her, his gaze carried an impossible depth.
"You're not supposed to be here," Elowen asked.
Lucien smiled sadly. "Neither are you."
The chains rattled violently.
The presence below shifted.
"Why do you keep coming here?" she demanded, fear sharpening her voice. "Why does the seal respond to you?"
Lucien stepped closer. The stone beneath his feet cracked with each movement.
"Because it remembers me," he said.
Her heart pounded. "You've been here before?"
"Not in this life," he replied. "But knowledge leaves scars deeper than flesh."
The ground shook again—stronger this time.
One of the chains snapped.
Elowen screamed as blinding light erupted from the broken sigil, forcing her to her knees. The presence below surged upward, pressing against what remained of the seal.
Lucien reached out, grabbing her wrist.
"Wake up," he commanded.
The world shattered.
---
Elowen bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath.
Cold sweat soaked her sheets. Her heart raced violently as she clutched at her chest, half-expecting to feel chains digging into her skin.
The dream lingered, and it was too real to thought this was simply a dream.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, steadying herself against the bedpost. Outside her window, dawn had not yet broken. The palace was quiet—too quiet.
She dressed quickly, throwing on a dark cloak over her nightgown.
She knew where she had to go.
---
Lucien had not slept.
He sat at his desk, surrounded by open books and scattered parchment, staring at a diagram that refused to leave his thoughts. The symbols he had drawn were incomplete, their meanings just beyond his grasp.
The whisper within him was restless.
*She is awake.*
He looked up sharply.
A knock sounded at his door.
Lucien did not hesitate. He stood and opened it.
Princess Elowen stood in the hallway, her expression pale but resolute, dark circles beneath her eyes betraying a sleepless night.
"You dreamed," Lucien said quietly.
She nodded once and stepped inside without invitation.
Lucien closed the door and warded it with a subtle gesture. The air in the room shifted, thickening slightly.
"Tell me everything," he said.
They sat across from one another, the early morning light barely filtering through the window as Elowen recounted the dream in painstaking detail. With every word, Lucien's expression darkened.
When she finished, silence filled the room.
"The chain broke," Lucien murmured.
Elowen's fingers clenched. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said slowly, "that the seal is weakening faster than it should."
Her voice trembled. "Because of me?"
Lucien met her gaze. "Because of *us*."
She inhaled sharply. "You were there. In the dream. You knew what it was."
Lucien did not deny it.
"The dreams are no longer just visions," he said. "They're contact."
Elowen stood abruptly, pacing the room. "The Church told me the curse was symbolic. A reminder of royal duty."
Lucien let out a humorless laugh. "The Church lies when the truth is inconvenient."
She stopped. "What is beneath the academy?"
Lucien closed his eyes.
"A memory," he said. "One that the world tried to forget."
The whisper surged.
He opened his eyes again. "And it has begun to remember us in return."
Elowen swallowed hard. "Can it be stopped?"
Lucien hesitated.
"Not forever," he said. "But delayed."
Her gaze hardened. "Tell me what I am."
Lucien stood.
"You are an anchor," he said. "The final one."
The room seemed to tilt.
"And you?" she asked quietly.
Lucien's scar burned faintly.
"I am the key that should never have existed."
Outside, the academy bells began to ring.
Somewhere beneath Blackthorn Royal Arcane Academy, ancient stone groaned as something old shifted in its sleep.
And the seal weakened once more.