I didn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her walking away. The ring. The crack in her eye. The way she told me to move on.
But when sleep finally did come, it wasn't rest.
It was...
Something else.
—
The dream wasn't mine.
The meadow was there, but wrong.
I was in our clearing, the one past the wildflowers, near the old rock we'd claimed as ours. The place above the city where we used to sit and watch the world go quiet.
But now, it felt hollow. Off.
Too still. Like a photograph.
The grass didn't move. The wind didn't stir. Mist hung motionless above the soil, and the forget-me-nots that circled the rock bloomed too wide, too blue, like someone had painted them from memory and gotten the shades wrong.
I turned to look at the city below.
The towers were still there, lit and gleaming. But something was missing.
I stared harder.
The Citadel.
Gone.
The obsidian shard that should have split the horizon was just… not there.No spire. No shimmer. No echo of where it had stood.
Just clean sky.
As if the world had never cracked at all.
And then I saw her.
A girl sat on the rock at the centre of the clearing, the field now covered in forget-me-nots.
Her right eye shimmered like frozen moonlight. The left... something in it reminded me of Cayos. A knowing. A game already halfway played.
Over that eye, just above the cheekbone, a faint scar curved downward—not across the eye itself, but the skin. A scar so light I hadn't noticed before.
She smiled. Wide. Crooked.
Mischievous.
"Clinging to ghosts? Tsk. You'll break something like that," she said, voice like bells cracking under laughter.
"Who are you?" I tried asking, but no words came out.
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My own breath felt foreign, like I was just borrowing it.
The sky behind her split like glass. Her grin widened.
"You want names?" she asked, head tilting.
"I am the Veilweaver. The first laughter. The last lie." She winked."
But you can call me Vaelith. Everyone does, eventually."
She twirled a forget-me-not between her fingers, gaze flicking past me, past the dream. Like she was seeing something far away.
"Tell him…"
Her voice softened.
"Tell him that I miss him."
The sky cracked like a mirror.
The world broke-
And I fell.
—
Morning light barely touched the rain-slicked windows.
Even awake, the dream clung to me. Like mist in my lungs. Like I'd brought a piece of it back.
The Gate's low hum buzzed beneath the city like a heartbeat. Probably flying high today, to get a clean opening above the clouds.
I padded into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and half-dressed.
Lyra stood by the counter with her usual cup of coffee, scrolling something on her phone with a faint look of boredom. The light from the screen flickered across her face like something fading in and out of focus.
Dad had probably already left for work.
She looked up.
"You look like hell," she said.
"I didn't sleep."
She didn't joke this time. Just raised her mug in quiet acknowledgment, then, without looking, grabbed a second cup from the rack.
I frowned.
She started to pour the coffee.
I grabbed a glass and stood at the sink, letting the cold water run over my fingers for a few seconds before filling it.
"Hey," I said after a beat, not quite looking at her. "That new guy. Cayos. What do you know about him?"
She didn't answer right away. Just added exactly one sugar, stirred once, added milk, then slid the mug across the counter toward me.
The foam had a pattern drawn in milk. A leaf, maybe. Or a heart. I'd forgotten she could do that.
I didn't touch it.
Just sipped from my water instead.
When I finally glanced up, her expression had shifted, flat, wary. The kind of look she saved for arguments she thought might already be lost.
"Why?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said, too quickly. "He just… said something weird. Something about the Reverie. Made me think."
"Right," she said, voice tightening. "You saw me give him my number, and now you're doing this again."
"What? No. I wasn't-"
"You don't need to pretend it's about something else, Dio." She crossed her arms, coffee forgotten. "I know that look. It's the same one you give when discussing literally anyone I've even talked to."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
The scent of coffee filled the room, grounding, bitter.
It clung to the air, thick enough to sting.
It should've helped.
But instead, it just made my head throb.
I tried again, softer this time.
"I'm just asking what you know about him. That's all."
She shook her head.
"You don't get to ask that like it's neutral. Like you haven't spent the past couple years interrogating me about every guy I looked at sideways."
Her voice wasn't angry, just tired. Frayed at the edges.
"I'm not trying to control you," I said. "I just…"
The words caught in my throat.
I couldn't just say I had a nightmare and now I feel like something's wrong with him. Not without sounding insane.
"I just don't trust him."
Lyra blinked, her mouth tightening.
"I'm not dating him, Dio. I gave him my number because he's new and didn't know anyone."
"I know," I said, but it came out wrong. Defensive.
"I have to get ready for school."
She turned and walked out of the kitchen.
I didn't stop her.
The silence that followed felt heavier than it should've.
I stood there for a while, gripping my glass, trying to swallow whatever this was.
Then the dizziness hit.
Maybe coffee wasn't such a bad idea after all.
I looked down.
The heart in the foam was already gone.
Just cold coffee now.
—
We drove to school in silence.
Rain tapped the windshield.
Everything outside the car looked blurry.
Distant.
I wanted to say something. Anything.
But every word felt too small for what was coming.
So I stayed quiet.