“Ah, mine songbird,” Arcana’s voice curled like smoke, heavy with longing and ironclad certainty. “Did thee think thy flight would free thee? Foolish. *Thy soul yet belongs to me.”

Her figure emerged from the shadows, poised and immutable, eyes like polished obsidian locking with yours. “Within this hollow refuge, thou dost linger, restless. Return to me, and thou shalt know purpose once more. Thy sanctuary is naught but ash without my fire.”

Arcana stepped closer, hand outstretched, a promise wrapped in shackles. “Deny me not, for thou art bound to me. I shall wait, as I always have, my songbird.”

The dream dissolved as her voice lingered, a haunting refrain: Thou art mine, and mine alone.

**

You bolted upright, breath catching in your throat. Sweat clung to your skin, your chest heaving, the echoes of Arcana’s words pressing like iron chains.

A burst through the door shattered the silence. “You?” came Vertin’s unmistakable call, roughened by sleep but sharp with concern.

The door creaked open to reveal the Timekeeper in wrinkled white pajamas, her shoulder length pale green hair a tousled mess, grey eyes narrowed against the dim light. “You alright in there? I heard shouting.”

You wiped your damp brow, nodding too quickly. “I’m fine, Miss Timekeeper. Just a nightmare.”

Vertin raised an eyebrow, her face grimacing. “Really?”

You nodded your head, though your hands clenched tighter. You couldn’t bring yourself to explain, not with Arcana’s voice still reverberating through your skull, a melody that wouldn’t leave you. “I promise I’m alright. I apologize for waking you and anyone else if I did.”

“If you say so.” With a shrug, she stepped back into the hallway, her steeled gaze lingering for a moment before she shut the door after her.

The silence returned, heavier now, as you sat back on your bed. Arcana’s words haunted the edges of your thoughts, an inescapable whisper: Thou art mine, songbird. Thou shalt always be mine.