Dreams and Warnings

The house was quiet when Lily returned from the cliffs. The moonlight spilled across the floorboards as she stepped inside, the door creaking softly behind her. Her mother had left a warm bowl of soup on the small table, covered with a cloth. She smiled faintly, but her appetite had vanished long ago. Instead, she climbed the stairs and entered her room, the scent of lavender from her pillow calming her nerves as she sank into bed.

Tomorrow, she would be married.

The words echoed in her chest, a soft thud like the heartbeat of a second soul inside her. Everything was in motion her dress laid out, the villagers prepared, her parents quietly proud and cautious. And the prince, he waited with patience she hadn't expected.

Still, her heart fluttered with an ache she couldn't name. It wasn't love. Not anymore. Not for Sam, not for the prince. It was something else. The heavy pull of a life changing, of leaving behind the shadows of a dream.

She curled under her blanket, her fingers grazing the seashell she had tucked beneath her pillow. With a sigh, her eyes closed, and sleep took her.

In her dream, the world was painted in mist.

She stood by the shoreline, barefoot, the wind gentle and sad. The water shimmered like silver glass, and the sky was neither night nor day. In the distance, near the cluster of rocks where they used to sit, she saw him.

Sam.

He sat with his knees drawn up, arms resting on them, gazing out at the sea. He looked older, thinner. His eyes held a thousand unspoken sorrows. But he didn't speak. He just looked at her.

Lily took slow steps toward him, her breath catching as she neared. She didn't speak either. There was no need. They understood too much now for words.

When she reached him, he stood.

And then they walked.

Through woods of memory and paths carved in dreams, they walked together. Hands close but never touching. Eyes occasionally meeting, but always dropping away. Hours passed in the strange twilight, the air filled with everything they could not say.

Then they reached a riverbank with no bridge.

Sam stopped.

He turned to her. Tears had begun to pool in his eyes, quiet and slow. His lips trembled, but still no words came. Just one look—so full of grief, so deep and final that Lily felt her chest split open.

He took a step back.

Then another.

And then he turned.

"Sam," she whispered.

He walked away.

"Sam," she called again, louder, her voice cracking.

He did not look back.

Then she screamed. "SAM!"

Her eyes snapped open.

She was in her room, sweat damp on her forehead, her chest heaving. Her mother was already beside her, wrapping arms around her trembling frame. Her father stood at the foot of the bed, his brows drawn in worry, while her sister knelt by her side.

"Lily, it was a dream," her mother whispered, rocking her slightly. "Just a dream, my child."

"You're safe," her father added.

"It's alright, Lily," her sister soothed. "Tomorrow is your wedding. You just had a bad dream. It's all nerves."

Lily stared at them, her breath slowing, but her mind still trapped in the echo of his name. Sam. That look. Those tears. Why hadn't he said anything?

They stayed with her until her shaking subsided. Her mother stroked her hair until her eyelids began to close again.

"Rest, my love," her mother murmured. "Everything will be better in the morning."

But the night wasn't finished.

Sleep returned like a thief, dragging her under too quickly.

This time, she stood in a grand palace.

It glittered with gold, chandeliers dancing with crystal light, but the air was cold. Unnaturally cold.

She wore white, her wedding gown, delicate and beautiful. But her wrists were chained.

And in front of her, the prince.

His face was hard, his eyes cruel. The kind smile she had come to trust was gone.

He raised his hand, and she flinched.

The pain that followed was sharp and real. Not imagined. Not distant. A blow, then another. Her chains rattled against the marble floor as she tried to protect herself. Her cries echoed through the palace halls.

She screamed. "Please!"

But he only laughed.

The palace around her blurred, shifting into shadow and smoke. Her gown tore at the edges. Blood streaked the floor.

Then she saw herself in a mirror.

Eyes wide with terror. Face bruised. Heart shattered.

She jolted awake.

The room was quiet again.

Her pillow was soaked with tears.

Outside, the first rays of dawn crept through the window.

Lily sat up, breathless, her thoughts racing. The shell under her pillow pressed into her hand.

Was it just nerves? Was her mind betraying her with doubts?

Or was it a warning?

She didn't know.

But she rose, walked to the basin, and washed her face. Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror pale, thoughtful, uncertain.

Today was her wedding day.

And whether her dreams meant anything or nothing at all, the sun was rising.

So she began to prepare....