Chapter 9 finds Alina haunted by visions she cannot trust, while Bridget carries shadows of her own. Both women feel the weight of something gathering in silence — something that will not remain hidden much longer.
Alina returned to her room, worn out and unsettled. Without a second thought, she stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the soil, the clinging mist, and most of all—the memory of him. Kaelan’s image lingered regardless, his wordless command—Wait—pressing against her chest like a second heartbeat.
Yet the more she tried to recall the moment clearly, the less certain she became. Unease tugged at her mind, threading in darker questions. She stared at the ceiling as if it might reveal what her heart could not accept: that, for the briefest heartbeat, she had seen two silhouettes, not one.
The mist had curled thick around the riverbank, but she was certain of what she had seen—a second figure had stood behind Kaelan. Taller, broader, the edges of his silhouette blurred, like a shadow turned flesh. When she blinked, it was gone, as though it had never been there at all.
Her heart started racing, her breath uneven. With an exasperated sigh, Alina pressed her palms onto her eyes, but the image clung onto her memory, etched behind her closed eyelids, stubborn and unyielding.
After breakfast, it was Bridget who suggested they go for a walk. Alina hesitated, but reluctantly agreed. There was something in Bridget’s restlessness that mirrored her own. It pained her that the childhood memories that once bound them like silk ribbons now felt like threads frayed beyond repair.
The village square was busy with its usual errands, yet Alina could not shake the sense that the leisurely rhythm shifted whenever they passed. Conversations were cut short. Gazes averted. Silences fell heavy as lead. A bit further down the road, by the baker’s stall, two women bent close, unaware Alina lingered near:
“…she carries Lorianne’s look, doesn’t she? Same eyes. Same way of holding herself.”
“Careful. Best not to say her name too loudly here.”
“Still—it’s like seeing a ghost walk.”
They turned their backs at once, but the words stuck to Alina like burrs, even as Bridget quickened her pace, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the cobbled street. Alina cast a sideways glance at Bridget, who walked a step too quickly, her shoulders taut as bowstrings. For a fleeting moment, Alina wondered if Bridget had heard the villagers too—or if she already knew. The thought lodged in her chest like a stone and a shiver ran down her spine. She forced herself to focus on the comforting scents of warm bread and coffee, to keep walking, even though the air between them felt heavier with every step.
Still, the question gnawed at her: Why was Bridget here? Really?
Bridget
That evening, after dinner, Bridget retreated to her room. She didn’t light the lamp; only a small candle flickered, its flame painting restless shadows on the walls. Her thoughts, however, refused the stillness she longed for.
It had been a long, exhausting day of silences and broken conversations. Her mind kept drifting back to Alina’s journal, to the traced obsidian circles that should not have been possible to draw from memory. How had Alina managed it? And what did it mean—for her, for the Order, for them?
“Which one does she keep dreaming of…?” she whispered into the empty room.
Her lips tightened. The thought cut too deep.
Her mind wandered back to the forest earlier that day. The crystal-cold waters, the mossed-over Arch, the thick veil of mist—it all pressed on her with memories she would rather bury into oblivion.
Her mother’s voice echoed in memory, low and steady, reciting the Oath of the Thread when Bridget was barely old enough to understand: “We guard the crossings where one choice may alter the pattern of many.” At the time, Lorianne’s words had sounded like a prayer. Now they felt more like a warning.
What weighed even heavier on her was Alina’s watchful distance. Distrust seeped from her every pause, every guarded glance she cast in her direction.
As she was lost in a tangled thread of thoughts, her lips parted, a single syllable escaping—“Dam—” —before she caught herself, biting the word back as if the very sound of it might risk summoning something vile. She flinched, a shiver of fear running down her spine. As if on cue, the candle shivered too, throwing monstrous shadows on the wall. It felt as though the very silence was mocking her restraint.
Her phone buzzed again. The same sender. Three words appeared on the screen:
Time is running out.
That night, Alina dreamed.
Breathnóir Hill stretched before her, the Obsidian Stones blazing faintly with hidden fire, casting twin circles of light—the inner and the outer—beating like two hearts in opposition against the dark earth below.
A voice broke through the glow. Kaelan’s. Urgent, steady, but shadowed with doubt:
“Do not follow the wrong path…”
Before she could make sense of it, another voice slipped in behind his. Deeper. Darker. Twinned in cadence, echoing like a cruel mockery:
“…Follow my path.”
Her breath caught. She spun around, but saw nothing—only the twin rings of stones standing tall against the rising, thickening mist.
Alina jolted awake, drenched in sweat, her heart drumming against her ribs.
She pressed a trembling hand to her lips and whispered into the silent emptiness:
“Was I dreaming of him—or of someone else?”
Why did Alina glimpse two figures at the Arch?
Who sends the cryptic messages to Bridget — and what does “time is running” mean?
Whose voice did Alina hear in her dream alongside Kaelan’s?
Previous - Chapter 8 Waiting between Mist and Stone
Thank you for reading…✨
If this little story brought you a moment of stillness, I’m glad.
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Lia
It is getting exciting 😄 and the rhythm is changing. Bridget… mysterious. It is revving up a notch. No longer a breathlessness. Oh I am truly so intrigued. Lia, where do you get this mystical side from? I adore it🌺
I believe that the shadow behind Kaelan is his negative shadow, who might become real one day. The bakery women who are always whispering, are talking about Bridget -- not Alina!! Because she looks like Lorianne! Which means that Lorianne has been there before!
The warning on the phone is to Bridget, but from Alina's mother? (maybe). And it means that Alina knows too much, and the dark one (who's name can not be spoken) is near.
I just love your stories, Lia!