Chapter Four : The Dream That Drowned
The rain hadn't stopped since dawn.
It whispered against the dorm window soft, endless, and familiar the kind of sound that could either soothe or quietly undo a person.
Aurelia sat still, her gaze following the droplets as they raced each other down the glass, trembling paths that merged and vanished. The rhythm was hypnotic a pattern that almost made sense, as though the rain were speaking in a language she used to know.
Across the room, Amara,her bestfriend and roommate, watched her over the rim of her mug, steam curling between them like a question left unanswered.
She'd grown used to Aurelia's silences, but this one was different dense, haunted.
Ever since that night.
The scream had woken her before the storm did sharp, raw, the kind that carves through sleep and lingers in the dark. By the time she reached the bed, Aurelia was trembling, eyes wide open, whispering about waves and blood and a name she couldn't remember.
That was three nights ago.
Now she only stared out at the rain, pale and distant, as if waiting for it to tell her what she'd forgotten.
Amara sighed, setting her mug down. "You're doing it again."
Aurelia blinked. "Doing what?"
"Pretending you're fine when your eyes say otherwise," Amara said softly. "You look like you're trying to remember a life that isn't yours."
Aurelia tried to smile, but it came out brittle. "It was just a dream."
Amara hesitated worry flickering across her warm brown eyes. "A dream that makes you scream like that? Sure, Lia. Whatever you say."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the mug again, hiding the movement behind a sip.
Aurelia turned back to the window. The truth sat like a stone in her chest.
Because she remembered everything.
In the dream, the sky was the color of bruised violets, the sea below raging in shades of silver and black. Wind clawed through the cliffside grass, carrying salt and storm on its breath.
And there barefoot, trembling, stood the woman.
Her.
The same woman Aurelia saw every time she closed her eyes.
The princess with long, dark hair whipping like smoke, golden-hazel eyes shining with unbearable grief. She stood over her lover's body, right there on the cliffside.
He had come to her favorite place, their place for the last time.
A dagger glimmered faintly in his hand.
His lips were pale, his fingers stiff.
The same dagger she ...no, the princess, had once smuggled to him for freedom.
The sea cried for them. The wind howled in mourning.
And through the roar came her whisper:
"If I cannot follow him in life, I will find him beyond it."
Then she stepped forward.
And she fell.
Aurelia's reflection shimmered on the glass, for a breath, she saw that woman staring back, wet hair framing a face she could no longer claim. The room tilted; her pulse stuttered.
"Aurelia?" Amara's voice pulled her back.
Aurelia swallowed hard. "I'm fine," she lied.
Amara frowned, setting her mug aside. "You keep saying that."
"I know."
Silence stretched between them. Finally, Amara grabbed her coat. "I'm heading to class. Try not to disappear into the window, okay?"
Her tone was light, but the concern in her eyes wasn't.
Aurelia managed a faint laugh. "No promises."
When the door shut behind her, the room sighed into stillness.
Outside, thunder murmured like a distant memory.
Aurelia pressed her forehead against the cool glass, tracing one raindrop with her fingertip. Beneath her sleeve, a dull warmth pulsed at her wrist steady, rhythmic, alive.
She didn't notice the faint outline glowing beneath her skin.
By the time she reached her morning lecture, the rain had thinned to mist. The corridors buzzed with noise, laughter, hurried footsteps, the squeak of wet shoes. Every sound felt oddly distant, like the world was happening just outside her reach.
She slipped into her usual seat by the window.
Her notebook lay open, pen poised but still.
Professor Ardyn began the lecture, his voice smooth, deliberate, echoing softly through the hall. He carried an air of quiet authority, the kind that made even restless students listen. Yet when his gaze met hers, something electric passed between them, a strange familiarity that made her chest tighten.
For just a second, she thought she saw something glint on his cuff a silver insignia shaped like a wolf. Then it was gone, swallowed by the dim light.
He asked a question. She didn't hear it.
A classmate nudged her, and she blinked, realizing everyone was waiting.
"I...sorry," she murmured.
Ardyn's grey eyes softened. "It's all right, Miss Vale. You seem... far away today."
Whispers fluttered through the room.
And then, predictably, came the sharp, sugary voice from the back.
Lyra.
"Oh, let her drift, Professor," she said, her words wrapped in a too-sweet smile. "Some of us have dreams to chase, others just like to sleep through them."
Laughter scattered across the class.
Usually, Aurelia would have flushed or snapped back.
Today, she only turned a page, unbothered. The calmness in her silence was unsettling.
Lyra's smirk faltered. Her pen paused mid-tap, irritation flickering in her perfect composure.
Beneath the table, Aurelia's fingers brushed the mark again.
It was warmer now.
Professor Ardyn continued, though his voice carried a faint hesitation. His gaze lingered on Aurelia as though searching for something or recognizing it.
The rest of the lecture slipped by in fragments.
Words blurred into background static. The world thinned, until all that remained was the echo of the waves and the memory of a fall that hadn't truly ended.
When the bell rang, Aurelia gathered her things.
As she passed Ardyn's desk, a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes gone too quickly to name.
She didn't notice. The mark beneath her sleeve pulsed once more, stronger.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
The sky cracked open just enough for a sliver of sunlight to reach her pale, trembling, almost shy.
It caught on a droplet clinging to her sleeve.
For a second, it gleamed red.
Like blood.
Then it fell and vanished before touching the ground.