Chapter Six : Shadows of Awakening

Seraphina woke to a dim glow on her wrist—golden light pulsing like a quiet heartbeat. She pressed her palm to it, incredulous that something this real could pierce the dream world and follow her into daylight. The rune’s soft fire warmed beneath her fingers, but her heart felt cold with fear.

She crept from beneath the covers and slipped on her robe, moving silently across the dorm room. Mara lay curled by the window, oblivious to what had happened. Seraphina stepped over the rug as if it were memory and made her way out in search of Lucan.

The hallway was deserted. Her slippers padded across cold stone, and every creak of the floorboards beneath her made her nerves tighten. The air was too still. The shadows too watchful. It felt like the entire school was holding its breath.

A strange pressure tugged behind her eyes—something between dread and instinct. She followed it through the winding corridors, past classroom doors and shuttered staircases, until she reached the old library. The double doors were cracked open, candlelight flickering softly within.

Lucan stood by the largest stained-glass window, gray light filtering through petals of cobalt and rose. His back was to her, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he’d been waiting. The air shifted the moment she stepped inside.

He turned slowly. His gray eyes shimmered as they met hers.

“Why is it glowing gold?” she asked, lifting her wrist slightly.

Lucan didn’t move closer. “Because something inside you finally chose me back.”

His words hit her like a heartbeat. She wanted to deny it, to say it wasn’t true—but deep down, something had shifted. The golden light pulsing beneath her skin wasn’t just power. It was a memory. A promise.

He stepped forward and held out a hand. “Come.”

She hesitated before placing her fingers in his. The contact sent a quiet hum through her bones—like a tuning fork finally finding its match. A shiver passed between them.

“This changes everything,” Lucan said.

Seraphina’s voice caught in her throat. “I’m scared.”

He nodded slowly. “As I always am.” He brushed his thumb along her wrist. “But fear doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re still alive.”

“What does it do?” she whispered, gesturing to the rune.

“You can fight the curse,” he said. “But only if you awaken completely. This gold—it’s dreamlight. It’s the part of your soul that hasn’t given up.”

She swallowed hard. “Teach me.”

His gaze softened. “You’re already learning.”

—

Later that evening, they climbed to the enchanted classroom, the place of all their dangerous lessons. The room pulsed with old energy. Candles were lit, their flames casting ripples across the walls. Crystals on the windowsill refracted soft, fractured light, and the air smelled of jasmine and risk.

Seraphina knelt inside a circle of chalk runes. Lucan stood opposite her, framed in flickering light.

“Close your eyes,” he instructed. “And breathe.”

She obeyed, focusing on the quiet cadence of her breath. In. Out. In again. Her heart beat in time with the rune.

“Picture the light inside you,” he said. “Feel it move. Let it rise.”

She imagined the golden glow trickling from her wrist, spreading slowly—vein by vein—through her arms, her chest, her ribs. It flickered upward like dawn across a frozen lake.

Lucan extended his hands above hers. They didn’t touch. Not yet.

“Now,” he whispered, “feed it to me.”

The glow between them pulsed stronger. Her magic licked the space between his fingers. His body shivered as he inhaled deeply, and his gray eyes flashed.

Then came the wind.

It wasn’t a breeze. It was a breath—ancient, knowing. It extinguished one candle at the circle’s center.

They both stilled.

Seraphina’s heart pounded. The rune seared brighter. A buzzing filled her ears, but she didn’t let go.

This wasn’t just training anymore. This was real.

The wind returned—harder, colder. The candle flames swayed wildly. The chalk runes on the floor glowed faintly. Seraphina gasped but kept her eyes closed. She held the light. She anchored herself to it.

The glow swelled one last time—then vanished.

She opened her eyes. The room was still.

Lucan exhaled and stepped back. “You did it.”

Tears blurred her vision. “Was that enough?”

He stared at her like she was something holy. Then, slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her wrist. The rune flared gold under his lips.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“You’re stronger than the curse,” he said softly. “You always have been.”

Her chest ached, but not from fear. She looked at him and whispered, “Then let’s end this.”

—

In the moonlit courtyard before dawn, Seraphina stood barefoot in the grass, eyes on the night sky. Lucan remained by her side, silent but steady. Between them, the air trembled.

“I want to try it,” she said. “I need to know if I’m ready.”

Lucan didn’t argue. He simply nodded once. “I’ll be right here.”

She centered her breathing again, drawing energy from the earth. The rune shimmered to life. Golden light crackled across her fingers.

Then, from the trees, a shape detached itself—fluid and flickering. The air turned bitter cold. The Sleepless One.

Its eyes—if they were eyes—seemed to crawl over her skin.

Lucan moved first, raising a barrier of light between them. But the shadow struck fast. It darted forward and knocked him back like wind snapping a branch.

“Lucan!”

Seraphina’s scream cracked something inside her. She dropped to her knees, slammed her hand to the ground—and light exploded outward from her body in a golden ring.

The Sleepless One screamed and recoiled, vanishing into the trees.

Lucan groaned and lifted his head. “You…”

Seraphina rushed to him, cradling him in shaking arms. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay. Are you?”

He nodded weakly. “You shone like the sun.”

She let out a laugh that was half sob. “I was terrified.”

“You were perfect.”

She leaned her forehead against his. “Next time, don’t get thrown across a lawn.”

He laughed—a real laugh.

That night, Seraphina lay in her bed and touched the rune again. It no longer felt like a burden. It felt like a promise.

For the first time since she arrived at Duskmoor, she slept without fear.

And for the first time in lifetimes… she didn’t dream at all.