Chapter 25

Mark blinked, eyes half-lidded, expecting harsh fluorescent lights and the faint beep of machines. Instead, he got dim lamplight and silence. He breathed in stale air, not that chemical smell hospitals always carried.

Everything felt ... softer, quieter.

There was the whisper of fabric, the scent of old wood and dust. His head throbbed, but not as badly as he might’ve expected, and his limbs felt heavy as if gravity had intensified overnight.

As he dragged his gaze to the side, he found Ria slouched in a chair, chin tucked against her chest, breathing softly. Her clothes looked rumpled, and dark smudges stained the skin beneath her eyes. She must’ve been here a while.

The second he shifted to sit up, though, she stirred. Her eyes shot open, panicked at first, then settling on him. Relief washed over her face, tears welling immediately, spilling before she even said a word.

“H-Hey,” he croaked, voice rough as gravel, “you okay?”

She practically vaulted to his bedside, smoothing tangled strands of her hair back, blinking away tears. “You’re awake,” she managed, voice trembling. “ You weren’t waking up. I—I was so worried.”

“How long was I out?”

“Two days.”

Two whole days. He tried to let that sink in. Felt like he’d only just blacked out moments ago.

“What about ... those voices? The curse? That weird ... light?”

“What are you talking about, Mark?” Ria asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering cobwebs. “Never mind. Just a dream, I guess.”

She watched him carefully, suspicion warring with concern. Then she softened.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“As okay as I can be,” Mark said, still feeling half-trapped in the memory of whatever the hell he’d just experienced. “Just a little disoriented.”

Ria’s hand found his, her touch warm and reassuring, and for a moment, the tension in his muscles eased, the questions swirling in his mind receding like the tide.

Then he saw it.

The talisman. Lying on his bedside table, glinting in the soft lamplight. The same talisman from his dream, its intricate carvings strangely familiar. What the...

She followed his gaze. “What’s that?”

He reached out, gingerly picking it up. A subtle warmth tingled in his palm.

“I ... I don’t know. I had this dream, and...” He stopped his brow furrowing. “Wait, how did this get here?”

“I don’t know,” Ria said, her voice laced with confusion. “No one’s been in here except Lida and me. And I certainly didn’t put it there.”

“But...”

“Maybe Lida brought it in? She’s been checking on you constantly. Maybe she found it and...”

“But where did she find it? I swear I found it this weird mansion-like place...”

“Where?”

“I’m ... not sure. I swear I got this dream. It’s fuzzy.” He sighed, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

“We’ll figure it out later,” She said gently, her hand still clasped in his. “Just rest, Mark. You need to recover.”

Mark nodded weakly, letting himself sink back into the pillows, his mind still trying to make sense of it all. The talisman felt warm against his skin, buzzing faintly, like a tiny heartbeat. What does it all mean?

He tried not to think about anything. He tried to focus on the here and now—Ria’s presence, the quiet hum of the lamp, and the feel of soft sheets under his fingers.

He closed his eyes, exhaustion draping over him like a heavy blanket. The mysteries would still be there later.

For now, he drifted, caught between relief and unease.

Mark tried to keep his head in the present, focusing on the patterns of his drills, the stance of his feet, the tension in his shoulders. But his mind refused to cooperate.

He parried, dodged, twisted his body through Julian’s training exercises, and still his thoughts wandered back to that bizarre vision. The chanting. The strange symbols. The damn talisman that sat by his bed at night, quietly mocking him with its silence.

“You’re losing focus again,” Julian’s voice startled him.

“Got a lot on my mind.”

“Still obsessing over that dream?”

“I can’t shake it,” he admitted, rubbing a bead of sweat off his forehead. “I can’t figure it out. What it means, why it happened, where that damn talisman came from...”

Julian’s tone softened—something it rarely did. “It’s been weeks, kid. You can’t live inside your head forever.”

“I’m trying ... I’m just ... stuck. The whole thing felt so real. The chanting, the curse, the runes. If I knew what it meant, maybe I could let it go.”

“I’ve lived long enough to know that not every mystery is meant to be solved overnight,” he said. “The answers will come when they’re ready, not when you are. Focus on what you can control. Your training, your powers. The rest will sort itself out. Eventually.”

He sighed, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. I just wish I knew what it all meant.

“Forget about that dream for now,” Julian said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Focus on the here and now. On getting stronger.”

Mark nodded. Julian had a point, but it didn’t make the restlessness vanish. He dove back into training, pushing his body until his muscles screamed. Anything to quiet the questions rattling around in his skull.

Days blended into weeks.

Mark woke early, trained hard, crashed late. It worked, sort of. The routine kept him from spiraling too deep into what-if scenarios.

He tried to push the dream aside, to bury it beneath the weight of his daily routine, but it lingered, a persistent shadow at the edge of his consciousness. Even Julian, with all his knowledge and experience, had no answers.

Throughout all of this, Ria was there beside him, through thick and thin. She’d been there through all the madness—patching him up, scouring old manuscripts, trying to decode those weird incantations.

And she’d had a massive fallout with her family, furious about Adira’s interference, about the attack on Mark.

She’s amazing. Despite everything - the bond, the secrets, the dangers - he knew he was lucky to have her.

Lida had been another story. After he recovered, she’d unleashed the full force of her anger.

“You could have been killed, Mark! What the hell were you thinking?”

Mark had tried to explain that he’d had no choice—that it was fight or end up in a body bag. He apologized again and again, to explain, but his words had felt hollow, inadequate.

She eventually calmed down, sighing in resignation, accepting, albeit reluctantly, that he’d had no choice but to fight.

He’d seen the fear in her eyes, the worry etched into her face, and it had made him feel bad. I’ll never be able to shake her worry, will I?

But the thing that really bugged him was that people had seen him use Void. He’d expected rumors, backlash, maybe a mob at the door. Instead—silence.

Did I overreact? Is this whole Void thing not as big a deal as Lida and Julian made it out to be? He doubted it. There had to be a reason for their secrecy, for their warnings.

His paranoia tightened into a small, hard knot in his chest. Something’s not right.

He poured this frustration into his training. More hours in Julian’s cramped basement, slicing at targets conjured from scraps of ether, practicing void constructs until his limbs shook and his head pounded. He couldn’t control the outside world, but he could control how good he got, how ready he was when shit inevitably hit the fan again.

And it would. He sensed that much.

But the dream lingered, a dark cloud on the horizon of his happiness. The talisman sat on his nightstand, a constant reminder of the unanswered questions, the mysteries that still swirled around him, waiting to be uncovered. He wondered if he would ever find the answers - if he would ever truly understand the forces that were shaping his destiny. He hoped so.

Because the not knowing, the uncertainty, it was a burden he was starting to find unbearable.

Mark stepped into the hallway, a sense of relief washing over him. Finally, done with that damn exam. One more hurdle behind him, at least for now.

Hard to believe how fast this semester had blown by. Hell, he could still remember his first day here—clueless, wide-eyed, and convinced he’d never figure out which building housed what class.

He rounded a corner and bumped into Sarah, leaning against the wall, scrolling through her phone.

“Mark! Hey!”

“Hey, Sarah. What are you doing here?”

“Just procrastinating,” she admitted with a grin. “Got a paper due tomorrow, and I haven’t even started.”

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, in the library then?

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Don’t judge me. How’d your exams go?”

“Surprisingly okay,” he admitted. “Not aced, but I didn’t bomb either. You?”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started,” Sarah groaned. “I’m pretty sure I failed. I’m just hoping for a C at this point. Anything to avoid retaking that hellish class.”

They lingered there for a bit, hashing over grades, next semester’s schedule from hell, and the rumors swirling around campus. Some prof had apparently staged a pop quiz so brutal it became the stuff of legends. Typical end-of-semester madness.

“Oh, by the way, how’s Ria?” She asked, tilting her head. “I feel like I haven’t seen her in ages.”

“She’s been busy with some research project. It’s been taking up a lot of her time lately.”

“Sounds like Ria. So, how’s the ... living together thing going? Any explosions yet?”

“Surprisingly no. We’ve got a system worked out. I guess I haven’t driven her totally crazy ... yet.”

“I still can’t believe you two moved in together so fast,” she said, shaking her head.

Mark simply shrugged. You and me both.

They chatted for a while longer, catching up on campus gossip, making plans for the upcoming holiday break, and complaining about the classes they were taking next semester.

“Where’s Ria, anyway? Isn’t she usually attached to your hip?”

“No idea,” he shrugged. “She just sent me a location and told me to meet her there. Said she had a surprise for me.”

“Ooh, a surprise? Sounds exciting! Any idea what it could be?”

“Not a clue. Just hope it’s not another one of her pranks. Last time, she filled my room with balloons. It took me hours to clean up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sarah said, winking. “So, where’s the rendezvous point?”

Mark pulled out his phone and showed her the message.

“Woah! Grand Regency? Five-star? Someone’s feeling fancy. You sure she didn’t max out her credit card?”

“Don’t even joke about that. I’m kinda worried what I’m walking into.”

“Hey, if you need a third wheel, I’m always available,” she offered, her eyes twinkling. “Just saying, I wouldn’t mind crashing a five-star hotel party.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Alright, Romeo, I won’t keep you any longer. Go find your mysterious surprise. Maybe it’s not balloons this time.”

“Thanks, Sarah,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I’ll let you know if I survive.”

“Deal.”

He turned and headed towards the parking lot, a spring in his step. Midterms done. Surprise date.

The campus was quiet, a few students milling around, some still hunched over last-minute notes. He turned a corner, thinking about the evening’s possibilities—fancy dinner, some weird Ria plot to celebrate surviving midterms—and slammed into a body he hadn’t seen coming.

Instinct kicked in before he knew what he was doing. His hand shot out, grabbed the guy by the collar, and shoved him against the wall. It was fast and violent.

The stranger’s eyes went wide, hands raised in surrender. “Whoa, chill! Sorry, man, I didn’t see you.”

Mark blinked, heart hammering in his chest. What the hell am I doing?

“S-Sorry.”

Slowly, he released the guy, who bolted off down the hall, tossing uneasy glances over his shoulder.

Flexing his fingers, he felt a weird adrenaline prickling under his skin. Get a grip, Mark.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm that restless energy humming in his veins. Must be the tension from the past few weeks catching up with him. With a shake of his head, he headed outside, determined not to let whatever that was ruin his mood. He had a surprise waiting, and he’d focus on that instead of... well, whatever was crawling under his skin.

Mark stood before the Grand Regency, its glass facade shimmering in the afternoon sun. He felt a little underdressed in his jeans and t-shirt, surrounded by people in suits and fancy dresses. What the hell has she planned?

He walked into the lobby, the cool air a welcome contrast to the summer heat outside. The receptionist, impeccably dressed and radiating an air of professional efficiency, greeted him with a smile. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you?”

“I’m here to meet someone. Uhh ... Ria Thorne.”

Her fingers danced across the keyboard. “Ah, yes. She’s reserved the Presidential Suite. Room 4502. Here’s your keycard, sir.”

“Thanks,” he took it, a thrill of anticipation running through him. Presidential Suite? He took the elevator up to the 45th floor, his mind racing with possibilities.

He slid the keycard into the slot, and the door clicked open. He stepped inside, and his jaw dropped. The suite was enormous, a sprawling space filled with plush furniture, expensive artwork, and a breathtaking view of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows. Holy shit. He could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom.

“Ria?” he called out, knocking gently on the bathroom door.

“Five minutes, babe. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Don’t take too long,” he grinned, his curiosity piqued. He couldn’t wait to see what she had planned.

He wandered around the suite, taking in the lavish details - the king-sized bed with its cloud-like pillows, the flat-screen TV that seemed bigger than his entire room, the table laden with snacks and drinks. He couldn’t resist sampling a few of the chocolate-covered strawberries, savoring their sweet, juicy flavor. Not bad.

The place looked like the kind of spot celebrities crashed in after the Oscars, all elegant lines and plush textures.

He paused by the window, staring down at the city’s skyline. Everything looked tiny—people scurrying around like ants, cars crawling along streets. One would think being up here would give him a sense of perspective, maybe help him clear his head. Instead, the quiet room and the distant hum of the city just made his thoughts louder.

He sank onto the bed, a sigh escaping his lips, the sheets feeling like clouds beneath him.

His mind drifted, replaying the events of the past few weeks – the fight at the mansion, Julian’s training, the fucked-up dream that still haunted him.

He’d been lucky to survive, he knew that, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was... off. Ever since that dream, there’d been this ... presence in his head, a whisper of crazy shit that made his skin crawl. It was tough to explain.

And then there were the visions. Brief, fragmented nightmares invaded his sleep - flashes of twisted faces, shadowy figures, and the echo of screams, of anguished cries in a language he didn’t understand. What the hell is happening?

“Deep in thought there, Professor?”

Mark’s eyes snapped open, and there was Ria. Holy. Shit.

She was dressed in what could only be described as a parody of a school uniform, but one that screamed sex appeal.

Her shirt was white, but god, it was practically see-through, showing off her tits like she was about to spill out any second. Her tie was a mess, hanging loose, looking like it would come undone with just a breath.

The skirt was something out of a wet dream, so short it was almost pointless, barely skimming the curve of her ass. Her long, tanned legs were bare, her feet clad in a pair of black Mary Janes.

Her long brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, emphasizing the sharpness of her features, her eyes lined with dark makeup, lips painted a sinful red, looking like they were meant for nothing but mischief.