chapter 3
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Chapter 3 – The Tower and the Thorns
Seraphina didn't sleep much that night.
Dreams—fragmented, strange—haunted her. A voice whispering her name through fog. A tower shrouded in thorns. A door that wouldn't open, no matter how hard she pushed.
And always, just at the edge of her vision, Lucien's silhouette—never facing her, always just out of reach.
She woke before dawn, tangled in sheets and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
The west tower was dark again.
Of course it was.
She wrapped herself in her robe and stared out the window, waiting for the sun to rise.
Waiting for something to make sense.
Somewhere in the woods beyond the academy, a crow cawed once—sharp and lonely.
---
By breakfast, the rain had stopped, replaced by a golden haze that made the academy's spires glow like they were lit from within.
Kiera slid into the seat beside her in the dining hall, eyes still puffy with sleep.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
Seraphina stirred her oatmeal. "Just didn't sleep well."
"Don't tell me Lucien Morvain crept into your dreams." Kiera grinned. "He has that effect on people."
Seraphina blinked. "He… did. Kind of."
That wiped the smile right off Kiera's face. "Wait. You're not serious."
"I don't know. It was just a dream."
Kiera leaned in. "At this school, dreams aren't just dreams. Especially if they lead to the west tower."
Seraphina stiffened. "How did you—?"
"You were mumbling in your sleep last night. Something about a door and… thorns?"
Seraphina dropped her spoon.
Kiera's brows furrowed. "Okay, that wasn't the reaction I expected. Do you want to talk about it?"
Seraphina hesitated, glancing around. Students bustled and chatted all around them. The clatter of dishes, laughter. It felt too loud for what she needed to say.
"No. Not here."
---
After class, Kiera dragged her to the edge of the academy gardens—a secluded grove of twisted trees and whispering leaves where students often went to study or sneak a nap.
Seraphina told her everything. The dream. The west tower. The strange pull in her chest. The way Lucien kept showing up like the universe was stitching their paths together.
Kiera listened, face unreadable, until Seraphina finished.
Then: "You need to be careful."
"That's not exactly helpful."
Kiera looked her dead in the eye. "That tower? It's been sealed since the Tragedy of 109. No one talks about it. No one goes near it. But some people… some bloodlines… they're drawn to it. And it's never just coincidence."
Seraphina felt a chill, despite the warm sunlight.
"You think Lucien's connected to it?"
"I think he is it. Or at least part of whatever it's hiding."
A wind rustled the trees above them, and for a moment, it sounded like the garden was exhaling—relieved or warning, she couldn't tell.
---
That evening, Seraphina found herself wandering again.
It wasn't intentional—at least, that's what she told herself.
Her steps carried her through the empty library, past the dusty archways, until she was standing at the edge of a long hallway she hadn't noticed before.
It curved gently—just like her dream.
She hesitated… then followed it.
The corridor was lined with paintings. Portraits, maybe. But every face had been blurred, smeared with age or magic. Their eyes were the only things untouched. Staring. Watching.
She reached a heavy wooden door.
Not locked. Not barred. Just… waiting.
She pressed her palm against it.
It opened with a soft creak.
Beyond it, a spiral staircase wound upward, cold air drifting down from above.
Her heart thudded.
Something was calling her.
She took a step in—
"Don't."
She spun around.
Lucien stood at the end of the hall, half-shrouded in shadow. His expression unreadable, but his eyes burned like frostfire.
"You shouldn't be here," he said quietly.
" why?"she whispered, still facing the door.
"Because this place doesn't forget," he said. "It remembers people like you."
She turned to him fully now. "People like me?"
His jaw tightened. "Curious. Stubborn. Brave enough to walk into fire… even if you don't know you'll survive it."
Seraphina swallowed. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."
He didn't answer right away.
Then: "Sometimes it is."
They stared at each other, tension crackling like static between them.
Finally, Lucien stepped forward, gently taking her hand off the door. His fingers were cold, but not unkind.
"If you go up there," he said, "you'll start something you can't stop."
"And if I already have?"
He paused. Looked down.
When he met her gaze again, the frost was gone. What remained was something softer. Raw.
"Then I'll have to make sure you don't get lost in it."
---
They walked back in silence, their hands brushing once, twice—never fully touching.
But Seraphina felt something in that silence. A promise. An unspoken truth neither of them were ready to name.
When they reached the dorms, she stopped him at the door.
"Lucien."
He looked over his shoulder.
"Why me?" she asked. "Why do you keep showing up?"
He studied her for a long moment. Then, with a voice low and strangely gentle, he said:
"Because something about you feels like… the beginning of the end."
And then he was gone.
---
That night, Seraphina wrote nothing in her journal.
Some feelings were too big for paper.
She sat on her balcony again, the moon high, the stars cold and distant.
The west tower window glowed faintly.
And for the first time… she saw someone standing in it.
Not Lucien.
Someone else.
And they were smiling.
Not kindly.
She gripped the edge of her chair, breath caught in her throat.
The thorns from her dream twisted in her mind again.
And she finally understood—
This wasn't just about her and Lucien.
This was about something older.
Something waking up.
Something that had been waiting for her all along.
And now… it knew she was here.