The semester had ended weeks ago, and the academy was once again filled with students. Some were cheerful, excited to reunite with their friends. Others carried tension—anger, fear, or quiet unease. Among them, the royals stood out. They seemed distant, distracted since the term began. Their minds wandered elsewhere, and their lack of focus unsettled those around them.
But Kira and her three companions—Jex, Keal, and Thorne—were weighed down by something heavier. Their thoughts were consumed by worry for their friend, Lior, who remained in the Hollow, lying unconscious in bed. It had been months, and still, no sign of life. No movement. No change.
Unlike the royals, who cast judgmental glances their way, the four friends carried quiet grief. The royals watched them with suspicion, just like they had after the incident in Lithzaruun. Now, they were being blamed again—this time for what happened in Thryssvessra.
Wherever Kira and the boys went, the royals' eyes followed. Every step, every glance, every whisper—they were being watched. It felt like the moment they slipped out of sight, the royals expected them to start scheming again, perhaps to steal the fourth gem.
But in Kira's heart, there was only one question: When will Lior wake up? Though they were far from her, they received updates. And every time, the answer was the same—no progress. No change.
Their days had become a cycle of classes and dorm life. No time for anything else. That routine, that silence, made the royals uneasy. They feared what the four might be planning behind closed doors.
Today, the students were outside the academy, guided by the Archmentor, searching for wild herbs for their Alchemy and Transmutation class. Most were busy gathering ingredients for potion-making. But Kira, usually so skilled and passionate about brewing, walked as if in a daze. Her three friends followed quietly behind. While others searched the fields, the four of them wandered aimlessly, lost in thought.
Their minds were heavy.
They heard the whispers—some cruel, some concerned—but they didn't react. They let the comments pass. They didn't want to cause trouble, not while their friend lay unconscious, fighting for her life.
But their silence didn't go unnoticed. The Archmentor approached them, concern in his voice. "What's wrong with the four of you?" he asked.
Kira looked up, her eyes swollen from crying, her face blank. "Nothing, Archmentor. We're just thinking," she replied, her voice flat and emotionless.
They continued walking, trying to blend in with the others. But the Archmentor spoke again. "It's unusual. Lior isn't with you. You're rarely apart."
Kira turned to respond, but before she could speak, someone interrupted.
"Maybe she's planning to steal the fourth gem, and these four are just distractions to hide her plan."
The words hit like a slap. The four froze. They hadn't even explained what happened, yet they were already being judged.
Kira's anger flared. "Is that really what you think, Terren?" she said, her voice burning with rage.
Terren stepped forward, unapologetic. "Why? Am I wrong? You stole the gem in Myrrhvalen. You were there during Thalmyra's birthday. No one paid much attention to you, and you used that moment to take the gem. And when Roko Brin saw you, you caused a scene to cover it up—"
Keal cut him off, frustrated. "Seriously, Terren? We thought you were our friend. But all this time, you were just watching us, waiting to accuse us?"
Thorne joined in, bitter. "You almost had us fooled. We really believed you cared. But I guess black sorcerers and elemental royals can never be true friends. You'll always see us as enemies."
Thalmyra stepped in, her voice calm, trying to ease the tension. "We didn't mean it that way, Thorne. We're just… triggered. We're the new generation tasked to protect the gems, and three was stolen—"
"And you immediately assumed it was us," Kira snapped, her voice sharp with anger.
She moved forward, ready to confront them, but Thorne grabbed her arm, trying to hold her back.
"Yes, we steal. Yes, we enter your kingdoms. That's our way of survival. But we never had any intention of taking your gem. We didn't even know it existed—until you accused us!" Kira shouted, her voice echoing across the field.
"Enough," the Archmentor tried to intervene, but no one listened.
Glacielle, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, her voice trembling with urgency. "You're the only ones who would want it. If it were just a normal gem, something you could sell, we wouldn't care. But those gems are cursed. They hold the life and power of a king who defied the gods. And once they're united, we can't undo what will happen."
But Kira didn't back down. Thorne still held her arm, but she pulled away.
"Everyone knows we're thieves. But you judge us for that alone. You want to know why Lior isn't here?"
She pushed past Thorne and stepped toward the royals. Yrion immediately moved to shield the others.
"Lior is lifeless in the Hollow. It's been months. No signs of life. She's just lying there, unconscious…" Kira's voice cracked. Her anger melted into sorrow. Tears streamed down her face.
She staggered, overwhelmed by grief, but Jex caught her before she fell.
He looked at the royals, who stood in stunned silence. Then he gently passed Kira to Thorne, who held her close, comforting her.
In that moment, Jex was the calmest among them. Though he was angry, though the accusations stung, he kept his composure.
"After Thalmyra's birthday, we trained. Day and night. Lior pushed us to be stronger," he began, his voice steady.
"When you accused us of stealing the gem in Lithzaruun, it triggered something in her. Lior is our leader. She teaches the young ones in our clan. We may steal, but we also protect. That's our duty."
Even the Archmentor leaned in to listen. Not everyone believed him, but they listened.
"We were training like always. But something happened…" Jex paused, staring into the distance.
"We were attacked by something we couldn't see. We fought, but we didn't know what we were fighting. It was like the wind itself was hurting us. We were wounded, drained, exhausted. We thought it was the end."
"But Lior fought. Even when she was tired, even when she had reached the peak of her power, she protected us. She saved us from that unknown force and brought us back to the Hollow."
He looked at the royals, his voice breaking.
"When we woke up, days had already passed. We recovered slowly. But Lior… she never woke up. She's still lying there. Still lifeless."
Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Jex lowered his gaze, unsure of what else to say. He had told them everything. Whether they believed him or not was up to them.
He glanced at Kira, who was still sobbing. They all felt guilty. Angry at themselves for not being able to protect Lior.
Then Yrion spoke, his voice uncertain. "Then… we'd like to visit Lior. If that's true."
Kira looked up, her face wet with tears. "Why? To accuse her too?" she asked, her voice trembling with anger.
Yrion stepped forward. "To end the accusations. If you didn't steal the gem, and that's your story, then we want to see Lior's body for ourselves."
Keal was about to lash out, but Jex held him back.
"Fine. We'll go tonight," Jex said through clenched teeth.
"I'll come too," the Archmentor added. "And I'll bring the other mentors. Lior is our student. We need to see her. We owe her that."
After class ended, everything seemed normal—at least on the surface. Kira, Jex, Keal, and Thorne didn't speak to the royals, and the royals didn't speak to them. No words were exchanged. Everyone kept to themselves, pretending nothing had happened earlier. But the silence between them was heavy, filled with tension that no one dared to break.
When night came, the group prepared to visit the Hollow. It wasn't just the four friends this time. The Archsage joined them, along with three mentors, Elthara, the five royals, and Kira's group. They boarded the school's flying carriage, a grand vessel enchanted to travel swiftly through the night sky.
The journey was quiet. No one spoke. The air was thick with unease and unspoken questions. By the time they arrived at the Hollow, it was already late. The moon hung low, casting pale light over the darkened land. As the carriage touched down, the guards stationed at the Hollow immediately stepped forward, tense and ready to fight. They didn't recognize the visitors at first, and the presence of Kira and the boys nearly sparked a confrontation.
But Kira stepped forward calmly, her presence enough to ease the tension. The guards backed down, though their eyes remained sharp and wary.
Without delay, the group headed straight to the place where Lior was confined.
Yrion walked behind the four, feeling the weight of every stare from the Hollow's residents. Their eyes were cold, suspicious, and unwelcoming. He could feel their judgment pressing against his skin. Still, he kept walking, his gaze steady, preparing himself for whatever truth they were about to face.
They arrived at a large house, guarded heavily on both sides. The security didn't speak, but their eyes followed every movement. As they entered, the silence inside was even heavier than the one outside.
The room was dim, lit only by a few flickering lanterns. In the center stood a bed—one side empty, the other occupied. Lior lay there, motionless. Around her were a few people, quietly watching over her, their faces filled with worry and sadness.
The group moved closer, and the truth became clear. Yrion looked at the four friends, who stood silently, their eyes locked on Lior. They hadn't lied.
"There are no wounds…" Elthara said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
A large man covered in tattoos stood up from the corner. His presence was intimidating, his voice firm. "You're right. No wounds. But she's unconscious," he said, turning to face the group. "We don't need your sympathy. We are not your allies."
The Archsage stepped forward, his tone respectful but firm. "Lior is our student. She was chosen to become a great black sorcerer. We came because of the news. We had to see her."
The tattooed man narrowed his eyes. "We are Lior's parents. And while you're here, we cannot guarantee your safety. Behave, and we'll leave you alone. Cause trouble, and we won't hesitate to kill you."
With that, he turned and walked away, followed by a woman and another man—Lior's family, silent and stern.
The group slowly approached Lior's bedside. Yrion stared at her. At first glance, she looked like she was simply asleep. But the longer he looked, the more it felt like she was… gone.
Elthara gently took Lior's hand, trying to sense her condition. Her face fell in disappointment. Just like before, she couldn't feel any trace of life. She stared at Lior's pale face, searching for something—anything—but all she saw was emptiness.
Then, Elthara turned to Kira and the others. Her voice was quiet, but certain. "Lior is in a dream," she said. "She's trapped inside it."
Everyone froze. Confusion spread through the room. What did that mean? How could someone be stuck in a dream?
The mentors exchanged glances. The royals looked at each other, unsure of what to believe. Kira's eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat. Jex, Keal, and Thorne leaned in, trying to understand.
Elthara continued, her voice steady. "She's not dead. But she's not awake either. Her body is here, but her spirit… it's somewhere else. Locked inside a dream she can't escape - won't escape"
The room fell silent again. No one knew what to say. The truth was more complicated than they expected. And now, the question wasn't just whether Lior would wake up—but how to reach her, and what kind of dream could trap someone so deeply.
They stepped out of the room in silence, the heavy wooden door closing behind them with a dull thud that echoed through the hallway. Lior's father walked ahead, his shoulders broad and tense, the tattoos on his arms shifting faintly under the lantern light—old marks of war, protection, and sacrifice. His jaw was tight, his eyes unreadable.
Beside him, Lior's mother moved quietly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, knuckles pale. She didn't speak, but her gaze lingered on the door, as if she could still see her daughter through it. Behind them, Lior's older brother followed, his steps slower, his eyes scanning the shadows.
None of them spoke. Not yet.
Outside, the Hollow was quiet—but not peaceful. The night pressed in around them, thick with memory and mistrust. The wind carried whispers from the past, and the guards stationed at the courtyard nodded as the family passed. But the gesture was met with silence. Lior's parents didn't nod back. Their thoughts were far from courtesy.
"She's still here," the mother murmured, her voice barely louder than the breeze. "Still breathing…"
"For now," the father replied, his steps steady, his eyes fixed ahead. "But breath means nothing if the soul is gone."
Auren, Lior's Roko - older brother, walked a few paces behind. His voice was rough, worn by years of battle and grief. "She's strong. She fought for them. She didn't hesitate. That's bravery."
The father stopped. Just for a moment. His shoulders stiffened, and he turned slightly, his gaze sharp.
"She fought to protect. To shield. And now they come here to accuse in their mouths and soft eyes. As if sympathy could undo what's been done."
"She's our daughter," the mother whispered, her voice trembling. "Not a symbol. Not a lesson. Just… our daughter."
The silence that followed was heavier than before. It wasn't cold—it was aching. A silence that held years of love, fear, and the quiet desperation of parents watching their child slip beyond reach.
They reached the edge of the courtyard. The guards stood tall, watching. One gave a respectful nod, but none of the three returned it. Their hearts were elsewhere—still inside that room, beside the bed where Lior lay unmoving.
"She's trapped in a dream," Auren said, repeating Elthara's words. "But what kind of dream holds someone so tightly they can't wake up?"
The father didn't answer. He looked up at the stars—distant, indifferent—and then back toward the house, where his daughter lay between worlds.
The mother closed her eyes, just for a moment. Her hands trembled at her sides.
"I just want her to come back," she whispered.
And then they walked on—three shadows beneath the moonlight, carrying the weight of love that had no place to land, anger that had no clear target, and the fragile hope that somewhere, in that unreachable dream, Lior was still fighting to return.