Whispers in the Dark

Chapter 56 – Whispers in the Dark

Elvis tossed and turned in her sleep. The room was quiet, the only sound coming from the distant hoot of an owl outside her window. The air felt different—thicker somehow, like the veil between reality and another world had grown thinner.

Her eyes fluttered under her lids as the dream pulled her in.

She stood in a vast forest, cloaked in midnight shadows. The trees reached endlessly into the sky, their leaves whispering in a language she couldn't understand. A mist curled around her feet, and the air carried the scent of wild herbs and rain. There was no path, no light, only an eerie glow that surrounded her body like a shield.

"Elvis..." a voice called.

She turned sharply. No one was there.

Then it came again, soft but urgent. "Elvis... Queen Mother… help us…"

Her chest tightened. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Who are you?"

From behind one of the trees, a girl stepped out. She looked no older than fifteen, with silver hair that reached her waist and glowing violet eyes. Her dress was tattered, and her feet were bare. She was crying.

"You can hear me now…" the girl whispered, walking closer. "You've awakened."

"I don't understand. Awakened from what?"

The girl stopped in front of her. "They took her. The old Queen. They sealed our lands. We've been waiting for you."

"What do you mean? Who are you?"

The girl placed her cold hand over Elvis's heart. "You're one of us. A bloodline long forgotten. The last of the fire witches… You are the destined Queen Mother."

Elvis stepped back. "No. I'm not a witch. I'm not—"

"Yes, you are," the girl whispered, fading into mist. "And soon, you will remember everything."

Elvis jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Her heart pounded violently. It felt too real. Not like any dream she'd had before. And her name… the way the girl had said it—like a plea.

She pressed her hand to her chest. The spot the girl touched still tingled. "What the hell is going on?"

For days, the dreams continued.

Each night, she found herself back in the misty forest. Each time, the silver-haired girl returned. Sometimes she was crying. Sometimes screaming. And always, she called her "Queen Mother."

At first, Elvis tried to ignore it. She told no one—not even Alexander. But she was slowly unraveling. Her mood changed. Her powers flickered without control. She would wake up crying, feeling exhausted and haunted.

Then it started happening during the day. She saw the girl standing in corners, blinking in and out like a ghost. Sometimes in mirrors. Sometimes in reflections of water.

Alexander noticed.

"You're not sleeping. You flinch at shadows. Talk to me, baby," he said one evening as they sat on the porch. "Is it the dreams?"

She looked at him, her eyes wide. "How did you know?"

"You whisper in your sleep. You cry too."

She swallowed hard. "It's the same dream every time. A forest. A girl with silver hair. She calls me Queen Mother and says I'm the last of the fire witches. She says the old Queen was taken and that I need to help her people."

Alexander tensed, but he stayed calm. "That doesn't sound like just a dream."

"I know." She looked away. "And the strange thing is… each night I go deeper. Like I'm being shown more pieces. She says I'll remember everything soon."

"You think it's a vision?"

Elvis nodded. "I do. And there's more. I feel like... something inside me is waking up."

Alexander reached over and took her hand. "Then maybe it's time we stop running from it and figure out the truth."

The next night, she went to bed early. But this time, she wasn't afraid. She closed her eyes and willed the dream to come.

It did.

The forest was the same. But this time, the girl wasn't alone.

Figures began to appear from the trees—women and girls, dressed in ancient robes. Their eyes glowed with soft light. Some were crying. Some bowed as Elvis walked forward.

She moved without thinking, like her body knew where to go.

The silver-haired girl met her with a gentle smile. "You're ready."

"For what?"

"To remember who you are."

The girl held out her hand. When Elvis took it, a surge of energy rippled through her. Light exploded around them, and suddenly, she was no longer in the forest.

She stood in a temple of stone and fire. A tall woman with long flaming red hair stood in front of her, her hands raised. Around her, other witches knelt in reverence.

"She is the last of our blood," the woman said. "She is the Queen reborn."

Elvis watched from above—like she was seeing a memory not her own.

"She will awaken when the blood moon rises. She will be led by dreams. She will find us."

Then the image shifted. The temple burned. The Queen was dragged away by shadowy figures. Screams echoed through the air. The witches scattered. The flame died.

When the vision ended, Elvis collapsed in the forest.

The silver-haired girl knelt beside her. "Her name was Liora. She was your grandmother. The last Queen. She hid you after the war. Your power was sealed."

Elvis gasped, tears in her eyes. "This can't be real."

"It is," the girl whispered. "You are her heir. Her power is awakening inside you. That's why the dreams started. The seal is breaking. And the ones who captured her… they'll come for you."

Elvis trembled. "Why me?"

"Because you are the key. If you rise, they fall."

She woke up screaming.

Alexander was beside her instantly. "Elvis!"

She grabbed him, crying into his chest. "I saw her. My grandmother. I saw the temple. I saw everything."

He held her tight, rubbing her back. "Tell me everything."

And she did. Every detail. Every word. Every vision.

He listened without interruption, his jaw clenched. "Then we need to find them. These witches. The girl. Your people."

"But how?"

Alexander stood. "We'll start with that dream forest. Maybe it's real. Maybe it's somewhere out there. But we'll find it."

Elvis wiped her eyes. "What if they come for me?"

"Then they'll have to go through me first."

She smiled faintly. "You always know what to say."

He cupped her face. "You're not alone in this, Elvis. You're not crazy. You're chosen. And whatever it takes, we'll get the answers."

Days passed, and she grew stronger.

Her powers sharpened, her instincts heightened. She began to see visions during the day—memories, whispers, feelings. The world around her seemed to react to her presence. Flowers bloomed when she passed. Candles flickered near her emotions. Animals followed her.

The girl in her dreams finally told her her name—Thalia.

"I was your guardian. A dream-walker. I died during the purge, but my soul remained tied to you. I'm here to guide you."

Elvis asked one night, "Why now? Why is it all happening now?"

"Because the one who captured the Queen is returning. He's searching for you. You must be ready before he finds you."

Elvis clutched her chest. "What do I do?"

"Come to us. Find the Temple of Ashes. There, your true awakening will begin."

And so, the new journey began—not one of love or war—but of truth, bloodlines, and ancient fire.

The Queen was no longer just a title from a dream. It was her legacy.

And now, it was time to claim it.