After everything that transpired in the throne room, all the doubt that had occupied Seraphina's mind space now followed her into her sleep.
It clung to her thoughts as the world faded, as the palace walls dissolved into mist and shadow. For once, she did not steady herself. She did not quiet the questions circling her mind—about the amulet, about Kael, about the weight placed upon her before she felt ready to carry it.
And because she did not guard herself, the silence found her.
The dream formed slowly.
Not dark. Not frightening.
Just… still.
"Hello, Princess."
The voice did not echo. It did not intrude. It simply arrived, as though it had always belonged there.
Seraphina turned
sharply. Shadows stood at the edges of her vision—tall, indistinct, their forms shifting like smoke restrained by unseen hands.
"No," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her chest. "Get out of my dream. I know who you are. And I am not giving you my amulet."
A pause.
Then another voice—calmer, almost amused.
"But we are not here for the relic."
Her grip tightened instinctively around the chain at her neck. "Then why are you here?"
"We are here," a third voice said gently, "because you are tired."
The shadows did not move closer, yet they felt nearer all the same.
"You carry questions you are not allowed to ask," the voice continued. "Emotions you are told to master before you are allowed to feel them. That is a heavy thing—for someone so young."
Seraphina shook her head. "I don't know who you are."
"And yet," the leader said softly, "you let us in, we are not like the humans who control you and call it duty. You can unburden yourself with us we will listen without judgement"
The amulet at her chest pulsed—slow, deep, unsettling.
Far away, beyond the boundaries of the dream, something else answered.
Lorin stepped into the dream without knowing how, almost as if he was pulled by a strong force.
One moment there was darkness—sleep thick and restless—and the next he stood on unfamiliar ground beneath a sky without stars. He did not belong here. He could feel it in the way the air resisted him, in the way the world refused to fully acknowledge his presence.
He was a passerby.
Ahead of him stood a figure cloaked in pale light. He could not see her face, no matter how hard he tried—but her posture, her bearing, the fall of her gown told him enough.
A princess.
She stood surrounded by dark figures, their voices muffled, distorted, slipping past his understanding like water through clenched fingers.
But one thing was clear.
The amulet.
Its crimson glow cut through the dream like a wound. It burned brighter than anything else, tugging at something deep in his chest—something old, aching, familiar.
Without thinking, Lorin reached for it.
His hand passed straight through the light.
Nothing.
The pull intensified, sharp and breathless.
Back in the palace—within the dream—Seraphina's breath came faster.
"You say you are here to listen," she said, forcing herself to stand her ground. "But I don't know you. How can I trust you?"
"You can," the leader replied calmly. "But you choose not to, you would rather listen to the one who controls you calling it teaching."
The shadows began to thin, retreating like mist touched by morning light.
"You have learnt to build walls around your mind," he said, his voice fading. "To lock every doubt behind duty and call it strength."
A final whisper brushed against her thoughts.
"But walls crack. And when they do we will come to you—"
The dream dissolved.
"—to offer you the understanding you will then need."
The order vanished.
Lorin woke with a gasp, his heart hammering against his ribs.
The dream slipped away the moment he tried to grasp it—faces blurred, voices lost—but the feeling remained. A pull so strong it left his chest aching. A bond he could not name, tied not only to the amulet…
…but to the one who wore it.
And for the first time, Lorin understood something with terrifying clarity.
Whatever was calling him—
—would not stop until he found it.