Page 51 of Cursed By the Dawn

The final chamber had been created at the far end of our domain, rising from the trees to resemble a slumbering beast. When we strode into its yawning maw, it swallowed us whole. There was no way back—only forward into the mouthlike cavern. Still, I felt optimistic as Erebus and I led the dreamers onward. Something had unfurled within them during the first two trials—something that felt wonderfully close to trust. They recognized us as their leaders and would follow us into the dark.

Erebus and I wouldn’t merely stand at their sides; we’d carve a way forward.

I probed our shadow bond, trying to discern their thoughts. The upcoming trial didn’t instill them with fear. No, they shone with courage.Power.I could feel several emotions vibrating through the threads, all rich and alive. They wanted to learn more, wanted to test their strength and emerge victorious. And below it all, surging with a fire that I understood too clearly, was rage. They wanted to destroy Raelion and the Corruptive curse he’d damned our kingdom with.

To what lengths would I go to keep them safe? To save Elliot and Noctis once and for all?

“You would do anything,” breathed the voice, making me flinch. It was starting to sound more like Raelion, but I wasn’t sure. There was something else in the voice—something in its tone—that felt different than the demon alone.“I will not judge you. I would do the same.”

And then it was gone.

The three Weavers of time, Somnus, Xander, and Theia, materialized near the chamber’s narrowing throat, flickering like candlelight against the shadowy expanse. Together, they were impressive as always, dressed in their finery and peering down at us with an intensity that transcended centuries.

“You’ve entered the third trial,” Theia announced, her voice as clear as silver chimes. Her gown floated behind her, sparkling with crystal flowers and beadwork, and her crown was pure diamond. “In this place, the past, present, and future exist not as abstractions but as forces to be reckoned with. Each of you must face the truth of your power and survive.”

I felt quiet satisfaction at the calm that settled over our group. They trusted Erebus and me to lead them through, to shoulder this challenge and prove our worth. I glanced at Erebus; his posture was confident. Eager, even.

We were ready.

“You have demonstrated your talent in the first two trials,” Xander said, nodding at us in respect. An iron crown jutted from his chestnut hair, boasting miniature swords that mirrored the seven floating behind him. A red cape, pinned to his shoulders by two gray talons, skimmed the elaborate armor he wore. When he turned, the dragon carved into his chest plate gleamed. “A commendable feat. But you will be pushed past mortal limits here.” A small repentant smile appeared on his lips. “Fortunately, we are all something more than mortal.”

“You will be scattered in this trial. Isolated by design,” Somnus added, gliding forward. A crown of bone was perched across his brow,complementing the strange chest plate he wore. It was crafted to look like a human’s rib cage, and it curled around him as though he was wearing his own bones. Long robes covered the rest of him, concealing his body in a lustrous sweep of black silk. “Loneliness is one of time’s cruelties. When all else is lost, what is left but ourselves?” His gaze found and held mine, a knowing intensity in his fathomless eyes. “Do not fail yourselves here.”

With that, the floor trembled.

Shadows erupted suddenly around us, gathering with a force that felt like a storm blasting through my skull. I turned to find Erebus, but he was gone. So was everyone else. When the storm finally quieted, it revealed nothing but silence and utter darkness all around me. As the silence stretched, Somnus’s voice—not much more than a chilling whisper—cut through the stillness.

“To reclaim yourself, you must face the echoes of who you were, who you are, and who you might yet become,” Somnus announced. “Maker be with you, dreamer.”

I straightened, every nerve taut.

The chamber shifted again, revealing the scorched battlefield of my nightmares. Ash floated like snow in the air, coating everything in sickly gray. Bodies lay scattered across the ground. Members of the Light Legion, blood smearing their dented armor. Corrupt Norhavellian villagers, broken bones sticking out from ragged cloaks and threadbare tunics.

A man and a woman, face down, who had hair like mine. Mother. Father.

The body of a girl, fingernails chipped and leaking something red. Eden.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, bile rising in my throat.

Dead.

They were all dead.

And it’s because of me.

I staggered backward, almost missing the girl, perhaps twelve orthirteen, standing in the center of the bodies. She was barefoot and shivering, head lowered and arms locked stiffly at her sides. Dark brown hair hung past her shoulders in snarled ropes, matted with blood. Her gray dress was dirty, too, grime clinging to her like paint smeared across a cracked canvas. She appeared carved out of the land, sculpted in suffering.

She turned to face me, and I gasped.

The girl wasme.

Not as I remembered, but the me I had buried. The version of myself I had vowed to leave behind. Her expression was haunted—a girl who had dared to dream and suffered the consequences.

“It’s you,” she spat. I blinked, shocked at how hateful she sounded. “You came back.”

“Came back?” I asked slowly, giving her a chance to clarify. I wasn’t sure if Somnus wanted us to fight different versions of ourselves or to be at peace with them. I glanced around, careful to avoid looking too closely at the bodies. I was clearly still in a dream; even the sky was a deep purple. It was a fabricated horror, nothing more. “This isn’t real. It’s not a place for me to come back to.”

Her lip curled in disgust. “Of course you’d say that. You don’t come back to the places you ruin. I’ve been here the whole time, you know. Waiting. Screaming. Standing in blood and watching you forget.”