The sunlight slanted through the open college corridor, catching on backpacks, laughter, and the distant echo of music rehearsals.
"I still can't believe he sang that song," Elena practically danced beside Rhea, clutching her phone like it was a sacred relic. "Kael was on fire! Literally. Did you see his eyes when he hit that high note?"
Rhea gave a distracted hum.
"Hello?" Elena waved a hand in front of her. "Earth to Rhea. This is your best friend rambling about your favorite singer who just melted a thousand hearts and possibly some speaker wires."
"I saw," Rhea said, softly. "He was good."
"Good?" Elena looked like she might faint. "Ma'am, he was celestial. I swear, even the lights blinked in rhythm when he smiled."
Rhea cracked a smile—but her mind wandered.That dream from the night before still clung to her like a second skin.
The sword… the voice…And the way her tattoo had glowed, responded, almost as if someone else had reached back.
"Elena," she murmured. "Do you ever get that feeling where… something is waiting for you? But you don't know what it is?"
Elena blinked. "Rhea, are you still dreaming about masked dudes in ruins?"
Rhea sighed. "Kind of."
"Well, next time your dreams include someone that mysterious, at least get a name," Elena teased. "You've had, like, three dreams and still haven't seen anyone's face."
Rhea opened her mouth to argue—then stopped.
In the corner of her mind, something flickered.
Not a name.Not a face.But…Eyes like winter. And a voice that made the dream burn.
Rhea
There was something… off about Rael.
He never laughed at their group jokes. Never fully joined the chaos of lunchtime teasing or Elena's over-the-top storytelling. Always calm. Always distant.Too distant.
Rhea sat on the grass with her friends, but her eyes kept drifting toward where he sat under a tree, sketching quietly in a worn notebook. Alone, again.
She'd caught it—just once—the strange shimmer across his collarbone when his shirt had slipped ever so slightly.
The same place her tattoo had burned the night before.
Coincidence? Or fate nudging her again?
"Rheaaa," Elena whispered, nudging her playfully. "Stop staring, you'll scare the boy. He's pretty, not a puzzle."
"I wasn't staring," Rhea said automatically.
"You were analyzing. Dangerous upgrade."
She rolled her eyes, shaking off the unease. Maybe she was overthinking. Maybe it was just the dream's lingering grip—
Then the air shifted.
Not visibly. Not drastically. But like static ran through the wind.
And suddenly—
"Whoa, you guys got real serious. Did someone die or is it just Monday?"
Kael.
Leather jacket, absurd confidence, and a guitar case slung over his shoulder. He strolled into their group like a whirlwind in human form.
Elena made an embarrassingly squeaky sound.
Rhea, in contrast, blinked. "…Aren't you famous?"
He grinned. "Allegedly. Depends on the city."
"Do all famous people crash college lawns?"
"I go where the wind takes me," he said, flopping down beside them. "And the cafeteria has decent samosas."
"Wait, you eat normal food?" Elena blinked. "I thought you just absorbed light and applause."
"Sometimes I inhale both," Kael winked. "But carbs are magic. Speaking of, Rhea, you look like you've seen a ghost."
"I… didn't sleep well," she muttered.
Kael tilted his head, his smile faltering just a second. "Let me guess. Weird dream?"
She narrowed her eyes. "How'd you know?"
"Artists have instincts," he said smoothly. "Or maybe you're just glowing with unresolved mystery energy. Happens a lot around pretty girls."
"Do you flirt like this with everyone?" she asked, unimpressed.
He grinned. "Only the ones who pretend not to know me."
She didn't mean to smile—but did.
As Elena squealed over getting a group selfie, Rhea's eyes flicked back once more to Rael—still sketching under the tree.
But this time, he looked up. Just for a moment. Their eyes met.
And a strange sensation pulsed in her chest, cold and familiar.
As if the boy sitting alone held a secret that could break the world.
Rael
The pencil moved fluidly across the page, like a whisper of ice, carving intricate lines of a shape he couldn't fully comprehend but couldn't stop drawing. Each stroke was instinctive, urgent, like something inside him was urging him to finish it—finish the image.
The sword.
He'd seen it before, in his dreams, in that cold, forgotten world. It had been there, embedded in the ground, waiting. Waiting for someone.And now, here it was again, on paper, as if it were drawing itself through his hand.
He paused for a moment, staring at the image. The sword's hilt was engraved with runes he couldn't fully read, but he knew what they meant. It was more than a mere object. It was a key.
And there was something familiar about the sword's design, something that made him think of her.
He rubbed his eyes, frustrated. His mind was swimming with fragments of dreams and visions that didn't belong to him—or maybe they did. Maybe they were his history. His past.
Before he could spiral any further, his phone rang, breaking the silence in the dim-lit room. He glanced at the screen—an unknown number.
His heart skipped. He knew exactly who it was.
He answered quickly.
"Rael," the voice on the other end was deep and raspy, like it had been waiting to speak for years. "You've found something."
Rael's fingers tensed around the phone. "I think I found her."
There was a long pause before the voice replied, softer now but no less urgent. "Are you sure?"
"I… I'm not sure about anything anymore," Rael said, his gaze flicking back to the sketch. "But I've seen her. In my dreams. Her tattoo... it's the same as mine. I think she's the one."
The voice on the other end exhaled, a sound heavy with the weight of too many years of silence. "Then we move forward. Be careful. The bloodline is not to be underestimated."
Rael nodded, even though the person couldn't see him. "I'll be cautious. But I have to find her. I have to understand what this all means."
"Do not get lost in it," the voice warned, almost in a whisper. "The power they carry is not for the faint of heart."
The line went dead, and Rael lowered the phone, staring at the drawing again. This time, the sword seemed to burn with a cold light, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't the only one who was looking for her.
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
It's time to find her.