My breath caught as the darkness pressed in around me.The cold hung heavy in the air, biting at my skin and making my breath puff out in little clouds. My fingers were numb, and the night felt darker than usual, the winter wind howling through the trees.
 I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep warm, but then I noticed something—my shadow stretched longer across the snow, darker than before.
 I turned slowly, my heart racing, and there it was—a flickering torch in the distance, held by someone I couldn’t see. The quiet around me suddenly felt louder, like the world was holding its breath.
“Zaira! stay close you'll get lost” I was startled and immediately glanced from my back. I stood frozen, words caught in my throat, as a woman emerged from the shadows, her torch casting a warm glow in the icy darkness. 
Her curly hair tumbled over her shoulders, a cascade of dark waves contrasting against the deep blue cloak wrapped tightly around her, shielding her from the winter chill. Her light blue eyes sparkled, catching the flickering flames of the torch, like tiny crystals reflecting the firelight.
Mother?
The child ran straight through me, her laughter echoing in the cold night. My mother crouched as she held the little girl, pale skin, and hair just like the snow. Her light blue eyes are similar to hers. 
“Don't run away like that” My mother smiled at me touching my nose with hers—It’s one of my memories that is triggered again. 
These things happened to me before yet a few minutes later I'll be waking up from this deep slumber. 
I continued watching as my memory replayed like an opera that I'm about to watch. 
As I'd followed them from the winter storm a small, rustic log cabin with a sloping snow-covered roof greeted me. As I followed them I could still hear how little me giggled while my mother carried me from the thick snow. In a slight distance a man standing with a lamp on his hand, As he saw my mom carrying me—my father. 
His dark brown hair styled in a somewhat tousled, slightly wavy manner His short, neatly trimmed beard, smiled as he saw little me giggled. 
“There you are my little winter, I'm so worried!” he said as he carried me in his arms. 
“Oh well, she got a little naughty, running away from me” My mother said, rolling her eyes. 
“You shouldn't have done that little one, wolves might eat you” My father’s voice rumbled trying to scare me. 
“They won't because you'll be there” little me said. 
The warmth of the memory wrapped around me, comforting and familiar.
Then, everything wobbled. The light dimmed, colors fading like watercolors bleeding off a page. My pulse quickened. 
"What...?" I glanced around frantically. The meadow blurred, edges crumbling into shadow.
“W-wait!” I reached out, desperate to hold on, but my fingers grasped at nothing.
In a blink, I was somewhere else. My mother and father stood in his office, the room crowded with vintage books and antique souvenirs. A large map sprawled across his desk, covered in lines and markings I didn’t recognize.
The air felt heavy, like something was pressing down on me.
"Why aren't you listening to me?!" My mother’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. "Zaira isn’t safe anymore! Owain is targeting us, William. Therese sent a letter—she said our family is his next target! Don’t you get it?" Her words hit like thunder, sharp and relentless, echoing through the room.
"What do you expect me to do? Run away again? Is that your solution?" my father shot back, his tone sharp, teetering on the edge of anger.
"Yes!" my mother snapped, her eyes flashing with fury. "This isn’t about you and me, William! This is about Zaira, about our daughter!" She jabbed a finger toward him, her voice trembling under the weight of her fear.
For a moment, my father didn’t respond. He stood there, his jaw tightening, his gaze fixed on her as if her words had stung deeper than he wanted to admit. 
"We both know Zaira consumed the vial we created,” my mother added 
"If Owain gets to her—yes, she’ll be in danger. But the vial doesn’t work. It’s useless! It hasn’t done anything to her."
"It hasn’t worked yet because of her condition!" my father shot back, his voice rising again, his words almost a plea. 
"It triggers the color of our child, William! That’s why she has Lunaria! You know this!" She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead, the frustration spilling out in her shaking breaths. 
“You know better than this!” 
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. The tension in the air felt suffocating. 
"Alright!" he snapped, his voice slicing through the room like a knife.
My mother froze, startled.
"Alright," he said again, softer this time, the fight draining from him. His shoulders slumped as he looked at her, something weary and defeated in his eyes. "Zaira isn’t safe anywhere except… with your sister."
"Zainab?" My mother’s voice faltered, disbelief flashing across her face. "You know Zainab and I—we’re not—"
"I don’t care," my father interrupted, his tone hardening. "She shares the same blood as Zaira. She won’t let her niece be handed over to a maniac hunting our family."
My mother’s lips parted, but no words came out. The fire in her eyes flickered, replaced by a deep, unspoken pain. The room fell into a strained silence, the weight of their words lingering between them like a chasm neither dared to cross.
My father took a step toward her, his anger melting into something softer, something raw. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out and pulled her close. My mother tensed at first, her shoulders stiff under his touch, but then she broke—her face burying into his chest as a shuddering breath escaped her.
"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering there as though trying to will away the pain they both carried. "I’m sorry for shouting… for everything."
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her hands clung to his shirt, trembling slightly as she let out a quiet sob. "I’m just… scared," she whispered, her words muffled. "I’m scared for her. For us."
He held her tighter, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I know," he said, his voice breaking just enough to reveal the weight he was carrying too. "We’ll get through this. We have to."
For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning, the chaos silenced by the simple, fragile truth in his words. But even as they held onto each other, the unspoken fear lingered, looming over them like a shadow.
My mother’s sobs quieted, and for a moment, the room felt still. Too still. My father’s words echoed faintly in my ears—“We’ll get through this.” But as he held her, their forms seemed to blur, as if I was watching them through water.
The air thickened. My chest tightened.
"Mom? Dad?" My voice trembled, but they didn’t look at me. Their figures began to fade, dissolving into the shadows of the room. I reached out, my hands shaking, but they slipped through my fingers like smoke.
"Wait! Don’t go!" I cried, panic rising in my throat.
The place shifted again—still the same, yet somehow different. Quieter. Too quiet. My breath hitched as I scanned the room. No one was here. The eerie silence pressed against my ears, heavy and suffocating, like the calm before a storm.
Then, the window behind me shattered. Glass exploded inward, shards scattering across the floor. I spun around, heart hammering, as a rock whizzed past my head, narrowly missing me. My pulse raced. Before I could make sense of it, the door slammed shut with a deafening bang.
My father stood in the doorway, his clothes torn, his face bruised and bloodied. He staggered inside, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the floor.
“Zen!” he shouted, his voice rough and desperate.
“Zenith!” The name boomed through the house, reverberating off the walls. Heavy footsteps thundered above me, racing toward us.
“William—” My mother’s voice broke as she appeared at the top of the stairs. She froze, her hand clutching the bannister, her face draining of color when she saw him.
My father didn’t wait. He crossed the room in staggering steps and pulled her into a tight embrace, clinging to her as if he were afraid she’d vanish.
“What—what happened?” she stammered, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes.
“You should go! Take Zaira safe!” he said. 
“What do you mean—”
“Owain and his men are coming, he didn't come for us, he came for Zaira. Run! Now!” 
With a snapped moment the glass breaks again, stones hit the floor. My mother rushed towards the second floor packing light as she immediately grabbed Zaira but before she could go back and escape. The house burned in flames. 
“William!” my mother screamed. 
“Go! Now I'll stop them” My father said, his voice piercing. I ran towards my mother holding me in his arms. I was too young to know, too young to understand
As I was about to follow my mother in the woods, a low guttural groan echoed g
from behind me. The sound froze me in place, dread coiling in my chest. Slowly, I turned around.
“Dad!!!” I screamed my lungs out trembling, my eyes falling from my eyes. 
My breath caught. My father stood there, clutching his abdomen, blood soaking through his hands and dripping onto the floor in thick, crimson drops. His face was pale, his breaths shallow and ragged. 
“You… will… never…. get your hands on my daughter” he gasped, his voice broken yet defiant. 
In front of him stood a figure cloaked in grey and black, his face hidden in the shadows of their hood. The glint of a bloodied sword in the figure’s hand sent a wave of cold terror through me. The man drove the blade deeper into my father's body, twisting it with merciless precision 
“No!” I screamed, my voice breaking as my father crumpled into the ground like a ragdoll. The sound of his body hitting the earth echoed in my ears, hollow and final.
“Dad!” I shrieked, yelling my eyes wide, tears falling uncontrollably down my face. My legs moved on their own, still calling him to wake up, I was eager to save him yet I can't my hands pass through his body. 
“How dare you!” I screamed, my voice raw and cracking as I threw myself toward the man in the cloak. My fists swung wildly, but each time, they passed straight through him as if he were nothing but a shadow. He turned away without a word, walking off into the darkness, leaving my father’s lifeless body behind.
“No! Come back! You can’t leave him like this!” I shouted, but my voice felt hollow, swallowed by the emptiness around me.
“Dad… dad… wake up” I cried again, gently shaking him up. 
I pleaded, my voice breaking. Hot tears streamed down my face, falling onto his blood-soaked shirt.
His face remained still, pale, and unresponsive.
"Dad…" My voice cracked into a whisper, barely audible now, as the world around me began to blur and distort. The ground beneath me trembled, fading into nothingness, and the darkness closed in, suffocating me.
“Daddy!” I called him again. 
Suddenly, I felt a sharp jolt, a tug pulling me out of the void.
"Zaira! Wake up!" A familiar voice broke through the haze, urgent and laced with worry.
I gasped, my eyes snapping open. My chest heaved as I sat upright, drenched in sweat. My heart pounded in my ears, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to me like cobwebs.
"Zaira, it’s me," Thorne’s voice softened as his hands rested gently on my shoulders, steadying me. His face hovered above mine, concern deeply etched into his features.
"Thorne?" I whispered, my voice shaky and hoarse. My eyes darted around the room, trying to ground myself in the dim light of reality.
I looked back at him, his steady hands and calm voice comforting me, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears. A sudden wave of emotion surged through me, and tears spilled over again. My sobs grew louder, my body trembling under the weight of the nightmare.
I felt weak, completely drained, as I cried in front of him. The image of my father—his bloodied, lifeless body—was seared into my mind, refusing to fade. My sobs wracked my chest, raw and unrelenting, as I buried my face in my hands, unable to stop the flood of anguish.
Thorne didn’t say anything at first. He just stayed there, steadying me with his presence. His hands remained on my shoulders, firm but gentle, as if to remind me I wasn’t alone.
"I’ve got you," he murmured softly, his voice like a thread pulling me back from the edge.
A few minutes later I managed to quit as Thorne patiently comforted me, I was still curling at Thorne’s bed, confused and haunted by that memory. Throughout the years of dreaming about it. This is the first time I've seen it. I was too young, too young to know what's going on. I am not even present in the scene yet I saw it in such detail. Why? I don't understand. 
Would it be so real? It looks like it. 
I heard a creak sound from the door and I could smell the sweet, floral fragrance with hints of herbaceous, I slowly glanced behind me. I saw Thorne giving me a comforting smile. 
“Here, it'll help,” he said, giving me the cup, I slowly sat up straight. 
“Careful, it's hot,” he said calmly. 
The subtle s and delicate, light floral flavor tastes sweet. I was able to calm myself and distract from what I saw in my dream. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked me, looking at me with those raven eyes of his. 
I didn't even remember when I'd sleep with Thorne, maybe we're so tired and I didn't notice. Yet I was wearing his button up shirt twice my size. 
“Better” I replied to him. 
“Flower” his soft voice called me, I looked at him as his hands held mine. “Talk to me” 
I sighed as I began to tell him the story from the letters to the nightmares, I thought he'll be surprised about it but he isn't. Thorne didn't even flinch; he just continued to stay quiet and listen.
I sighed as I began to tell him the story from the letters to the nightmares, I thought he'll be surprised about it but he isn't. Thorne didn't even flinch; he just continued to stay quiet and listen.
“So you're telling me that, nightmare was connected to your parents?” he asked me. 
“I am not so sure, I was so young, maybe some of it was real…” I sighed. “I don't know”
“Dreams may be exaggerated, maybe some of the scenes were true. But flower, maybe the killing part was too much, maybe you're just too stress” he said, giving me a comforting hug. 
I sighed he's right dreams maybe brings message but I think dreams are too exaggerating as well 
Ainsley was right, this is the best thing to do.
“Glacierbrook is the only way to know 
 what happened, based on the letters too” I said finally, my fingers played on the cup’s body. 
“I don't know how to start,” I said. 
He smiled. “I'll help you,” he said. “We have the same purpose in the place,” he said. 
“Purpose, what do you mean?” I was confused. 
“I told you flower, I am not really a professor. I am a surgeon and I work with Blackwell” he said. 
My eyes widened. “You're part of the military?”
“You could say I’ve helped people, especially in the army. I was a military doctor in the mortal world for years, and then I met Blackwell, who became one of my guards when I first arrived here. It's a complicated transition, coming from the mortal world, flower," he said.
I was still in shock, unable to say anything to him.
“So you're saying you're on a mission?” I asked. 
"You could say that. I haunt those who disturbed my past," he said, his hands grazing his cheeks as he looked at me. "Though, I can't tell you more about it just yet."
“I understand…” I said. 
"I know you would. What do you want to know about them?" he asked, referring to my past.
A flash of memory about the name Owain. The cloaked man, hiding from the shadows sending shivers towards me 
“Owain, I want to know about him,” I replied. 
He smiled. “As you wish," he shot back. “But promise me you won't do anything stupid.”
I smiled back at him. “I will, yet you also need to promise me that we won't cut off each other. We're in the same spot right now, we're partners aren't we?” I looked at him, locking my eyes into him. 
"We are, in this lifetime," he said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
A shot of tiredness visited me as my eyes were getting heavy as I yawned unexpectedly. The tea that he gave me might work, making my system want to rest. As
I heard him slightly chuckle. “Go to sleep, flower,” he said. 
“And you?” I asked. 
“Right by your side as always” 
I smiled as I yawned again. “Good” *yawns* “Night…” 
In a slight moment it went black.