Chapter One: The Storm and the Stranger
The storm tore across the cliffs, a frenzy of wind and rain, lightning ripping the sky into jagged shards of light. She ran heart pounding like a war drum, lungs burning, every muscle screaming in frantic urgency.
Through the mist, she saw him. Just a shadow, blurred in the rain. But she knew. She knew him.
An arrow struck before he could reach her. It whistled through the storm, slicing through the night before finding his chest. He staggered, crimson seeping through his tunic, then collapsed onto the cold, wet ground.
She dropped beside him, hands trembling as she gathered him into her arms, her cries swallowed by thunder.
"Please… no! Stay with me! Don't leave me here! Not now!"
Her tears mingled with the rain, soaking the arrow-pierced fabric. Every heartbeat felt like a drum of doom as she pressed her forehead to his, as if her warmth alone could pull him back from death's edge.
He coughed, choking on blood, eyes flickering with effort as he tried to lift a shaking hand to her face. Her fingers brushed his cheek, slick and cold. Even in agony, a fragile warmth lingered, the last tether of forbidden happiness they'd stolen from the world.
"I… I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "Our plan… it failed. I should have..."
"Shhh…" His voice was faint, ragged. He managed a weak smile, fingertips smearing blood across her cheek. "It's not your fault, my dawn… remember me…"
Lightning split the sky, bathing them in blinding white. His stomy grey eyes that resembled the moon, once radiant, flickered like dying stars. She clung to him, begging, shaking, wishing she could trade her life for his.
Then his hand went still. His strength slipped away into the rain.
She screamed, pressing her forehead to his, tasting iron and grief, feeling the tremor of life vanish from his body. The storm howled in reply. His once-beautiful eyes, the only thing clear in the chaos, dimmed until the world seemed to steal the light from them completely.
"Noo… please… stay…"
But the heavens offered only thunder. She was left cradling nothing but a memory, rain washing over her sobs, wind tearing through her hair, and the bitter taste of helplessness burning her tongue.
The cliff, the storm, the arrow...every moment carved itself into her soul.
Aurelia gasped awake.
Sheets clung to her like chains, sweat-damp and twisted. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, the echo of that last scream still caught in her throat. The storm outside mirrored the one in her dream, rain drumming against the window, wind rattling the panes.
His voice lingered in her mind, soft and dying: My dawn… remember me.
Her breath came uneven. Then it hit her like lightning.
She was late !!.
Throwing the blanket off, she stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping on her discarded sweater. Her hair was a mess, sticking to her face as she scrambled to collect her things. Her bag hung half-open from the chair, papers scattered like fallen leaves across the floor.
"Perfect," she muttered, snatching them up, shoving notebooks inside, and in the process, knocking over a vase.
It shattered. Water soaked the edge of her notes. She groaned but didn't stop to clean it.
Down the narrow stairs she flew, heart racing, breath shallow. Her fingers fumbled with the door latch, slick with panic.
The moment she stepped outside, rain lashed her, cold, biting, merciless. Her jacket clung to her skin, her shoes squelched in the puddles, but she didn't care.
Class waited for no one, not even for someone still mourning a man she'd never met.
---
She sprinted across campus. Toes slipping. Lungs burning. Breath fogging in the air.
Every flash of lightning seemed to mock her, each rumble of thunder reminding her of those same storm-grey eyes from her dream. His eyes.
She reached the lecture hall doors, dripping, panting, barely holding her books together. She hesitated for half a heartbeat, then pushed them open.
A hundred faces turned toward her.
The noise in the room cut instantly. Whispers stilled. Pens stopped scratching.
Aurelia froze, caught mid-step like a deer in headlights.
Rainwater dripped from her jacket onto the tiled floor, echoing in the silence. Her soaked hair clung to her cheeks. She clutched her books to her chest like a shield, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.
And then she saw him.
Standing at the front of the room, tall, muscular, poised, and composed was the new professor.
His posture was effortless, his suit dark against the soft glow of the projector. But it wasn't his presence that rooted her in place. It was his eyes.
Storm-grey. Sharp. Familiar in a way that made her entire chest ache.
Something deep inside her stirred, like a voice whispering from another lifetime.
He tilted his head slightly, a faint glint of amusement flickering across his expression.
"Well," he said, voice smooth, low, yet cutting through the silence like steel. "I suppose some of us like to make an entrance."
Her face went crimson.
"S-sorry, sir. I...I'm late."
"Evidently," he said simply, then turned back to his desk, flipping through his notes.
His tone wasn't cruel, but it wasn't kind either. Just calm. Controlled. A voice that made her pulse trip.
"Good morning," he continued. "I am Professor Ardyn. This semester, we'll study the rise and fall of the kingdom of Elarion its royals, betrayals, victories, and the consequences of ambition. History," he paused, "is rarely neat. Pay attention, because not all of it is written in ink… and not all lessons belong to the living."
The words stirred something inside her chest. A flicker of déjà vu. Elarion.
Why did that name feel so heavy?
His gaze swept across the room and paused on her. Just for a second. But it felt like forever.
Her pulse stumbled.
He looked away as quickly as he had found her, but the damage was done. The air around her felt heavier, charged, as though lightning had struck twice.
Aurelia slid into an empty seat near the back, trying to hide behind a taller student. Her fingers trembled as she opened her notebook. The pen slipped once, smudging ink across the page.
She could feel him moving, pacing slowly at the front. Each word rolled off his tongue with a practiced calm that commanded the room.
And yet, every so often, she felt his gaze again—like static brushing against her skin.
The first time, she thought she imagined it.
The second time, her breath hitched.
By the third, she knew.
Each stolen glance between them built upon the last, fleeting, forbidden, but unmistakably real.
Her cheeks flushed hotter with every one. She told herself to focus on the lecture, on his words about "royal deceit" and "the curse of ambition." But her mind betrayed her.
Because those storm-grey eyes weren't just familiar. They were haunting.
She pressed her pen harder onto the page, pretending to write, though her hand was shaking.
Stop staring. Stop staring.
But the moment she glanced up again, he was already looking.
Their eyes met across the room. Just for a heartbeat. But it was enough to steal her breath.
The professor's gaze softened for a moment, something unreadable flickering there,recognition maybe? Regret? Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
He looked back to his notes as if nothing had happened.
Aurelia exhaled shakily, realizing she'd been holding her breath. Her stomach was a knot of confusion and… something else.
Lightning flashed outside again, bathing the hall in a silver glow. His shadow stretched long across the wall, like a figure caught between centuries.
And for one wild moment, she swore she heard the whisper of rain on stone—the same sound from her dream.
My dawn… remember me.
She blinked. The classroom snapped back into focus. Pens scribbling. Pages turning. The storm roaring just beyond the window.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Or her mind playing cruel tricks.
But deep down, Aurelia knew something was wrong.
No dream had ever felt that real.
No man's eyes had ever made her heart break before she even knew his name.