But beneath the surface, magic hummed through the stones, each one holding the echo of what had once been here. With so many memories clamoring for my attention at once, and with Evander watching closely from the doorway, I couldn’t risk investigating any of them.
One of many reasons I much preferred working alone. Yet strangely, I no longer felt tempted to search the memories that might be hidden beneath the surface. Nor did I mind hiscompany; it filled a void in my heart I hadn’t realized was so vast until it was no longer there.
A peculiar sensation threaded through the magic filling the room, soft and elusive…nostalgia, or the faint impression of coming home, an emotion unfamiliar to me.
The thought unsettled me. Since losing my family, I had never stayed anywhere long enough to create such a feeling. I had spent my life drifting from place to place, stealing to survive, never lingering long enough to belong. It was one of the reasons I carried so few personal effects—the emotions tied to them were difficult enough to bear without my power forcing me to relive them in vivid detail.
And yet, for all its familiarity, I was certain I had never set foot here before. Even in my dream, I had remained outside the door. I glanced at Evander, wondering if the feeling belonged to the room’s enchantment, or if it was mine alone.
The change in him was immediate and striking. The easy smile that had rarely left his face was gone, leaving behind something far more guarded. For a moment, he looked almost exactly as he had in the dream, lending unsettling weight to my growing suspicion that the two versions of him were somehow linked…even if I couldn’t understandhow.
His gaze darted restless around the room, as though he expected something—or someone—to emerge from the shadows and catch us. The shift in his demeanor and tension in his posture was so reminiscent of his dream-self that for a fleeting moment, I wondered if that version of him had followed me into waking reality.
“Evander?” I asked uncertainly.
He met my gaze and the strange uneasiness that had overcome him cleared. “Let’s investigate and be done with it so we can move on.” But something indecipherable lingered behind his words, as though a quiet war waged just beneath the surface.
We ventured deeper into the room. Upon closer examination, I noticed one wall remained untouched by the neglect that shrouded the rest of the chamber—a remnant of the ruined castle from my dreams. A mural stretched across the stone, its colors vivid despite the decay surrounding it.
It was too large to have escaped my notice before, making me wonder if the magic had only just parted like an invisible curtain, revealing what had always been hidden beneath it.
Two castles faced one another across a lake so still it reflected the sky like polished glass. One towered beneath a golden dawn, its towers bathed in light. The other rose pale beneath a silver moon, its towers softened as though seen through mist. For all its simplicity, something about the image unsettled me, as though it held a truth just beyond my understanding.
Beyond the empty room’s tall windows, the sky darkened unnaturally quickly—as if night had been drawn over the world like a curtain. The room dimmed until only the light from the mural’s painted moon remained, its glow bright enough to rival the torches lining the walls.
Without thinking, I stepped closer. Evander drew in a sharp breath and reached towards me just as I brushed my fingers against the painted stone. The mural shivered beneath my touch, causing the painted castles to shimmer, their reflections warping within the painted lake. Magic suddenly surged, causing the world to lurch and the mural to glisten with light. Color drained from the surrounding chamber as another scene emerged in its place.
The silence shattered, urgent voices echoing against the stone walls as figures rose like phantoms from the air. Their misty forms gradually took shape to reveal men and women dressed in rich fabrics, their expressions shadowed with fear.
A tremor of magic rippled through the room, spreading through the chamber like frost creeping across glass. One byone, people began to collapse, their startled gasps dying on their lips before they could become screams; their bodies simply gave way as sleep claimed them without warning. Panic erupted among those still standing—frantic shouts, shaking, pleas to wake up. But one by one, their frantic shouts and pleas for the others to wake were swallowed by the same unnatural sleep…until only a lone figure remained.
He stood near the mural, rigid with shock as he stared at the spreading chaos, his face obscured by shadow. As though sensing me, he turned. For a single, suspended heartbeat, our eyes met. Recognition flickered across his face, followed by something far darker—an unspoken warning cut short before it could form as a violent surge of magic exploded through the chamber and darkness swallowed the room.
The vision ended, and the world snapped back into place. I staggered away from the mural, my pulse hammering, my mind reeling with what I’d just witnessed. A curse of sleep, just like the one that had imprisoned the dream world. How had I discovered a memory from the imagined world from my dreamshere?
I drew a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing heart. Much as I wanted to solve the mysteries of this castle, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know how my dreams intersected with reality.
Beside me, Evander stood very still. His gaze remained fixed on the painted lake, his expression carved from stone. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Then he inhaled sharply, as though surfacing from a nightmare. His eyes swept across the room with a dawning horror. He winced, his hand lifting slowly to his temple.
“This place…I remember.” The words seemed dragged from him, as though wrenched away against his will. Something in his expression shifted as the shock hardened, reshaping into sharp resolve. His gaze snapped back to mine, no longer uncertain, but focused, calculating.
He stared at me with an intensity I had never seen in him before, the silence stretching between us heavy and suffocating.
My voice was dry, as though I hadn’t used it in weeks. “And what is that?”
He was silent another immeasurable moment, his gaze sharpening. “You saw something just now.” The certainty in his voice stripped away any hope of evasion. When I didn’t respond, he stepped closer. “Answer me, Mirelle. What did you see?”
It sounded more like a command than a question. The playful warmth I’d grown used to had vanished, replaced with something colder. A storm raged behind his grey eyes, no trace of the easy charm that had once softened them.
The warning from my dream echoed through my mind, clearer than ever: “No matter what that other Evander says or how he might try to sway you, you cannot trust him. Careful: even the most accomplished thief can be swayed by charm.” For the first time, I believed it.
He exhaled sharply, as though catching himself. Almost as suddenly as it had appeared, the darkness receded. A strained smile took its place, brittle at the edges. “Forgive me, I seem to have lost myself for a moment.”
“Or perhaps,” I replied coolly. “You simply forgot to maintain the part you’ve been playing, and have finally revealed your true self.” I held his gaze, daring him to deny it.
He stilled, eyes widening imperceptibly. For a fraction of a second, alarm flickered across his face. But then the emotion vanished, replaced with a smirk—not the playful one I’d come to know, but one that appeared almost haunted. He let out a quiet curse.
“I should have expected as much. A thief’s intuition was bound to uncover the truth eventually.” His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable. “You’re far too perceptive for your own good. Congratulations on your victory.”
