Nathan pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the dorm window, watching dusk settle over the academy grounds. The hum of passing students drifted up from below, but it all felt distant. Everything felt distant since he had awakened from that harrowing dream encounter with Narcis.

  He had not ventured back into the dream liminal realm since that night, but its memories were etched into his every waking thought. Each morning he woke with the half expectation that some new sign of Narcis would appear, another physical wound or more clues. But the days dripped by in a hush of normality. Classes, meals, polite conversation. He felt numb with the weight of an impossible truth: he had a twin brother trapped in that swirling nightmare realm, and no one but him seemed to know or care.

  He turned away from the window with a sigh. On his desk lay the slim journal he had started, pages now dotted with notes and quick sketches of half shapes and lurking illusions, of the cut on his palm and Narcis’s exact words, “They told me you were gone. I was supposed to bring you through.”

  Bring him through where, he wondered. His eyes strayed to Noctisolar perched near the balcony door. The Celestial Dragon offered a gentle rumble as though sensing his questions. He ran a palm along the dragon’s flank, drawing comfort from its calm warmth. “I wish you could speak,” he murmured. “You’ve been here all along, and I have no idea what you actually know.”

  Noctisolar blinked and settled its head on its forepaws, as patient as ever. Nathan returned to the journal, flipping to a blank page. He wrote a new heading:

  Day 5 Since Meeting Narcis

  No further dream contact.

  I keep hearing faint echoes, like a memory of his voice or my name called from far away. Possibly my imagination.

  Studied more references to dream bridging. Nothing definitive. Must refine incantation or anchor method.

  Mood: restless, uncertain, angry at the secrecy that stole our childhoods.

  He set the quill aside, heart twisted with frustration. The Reaper hunted twins, especially those with rumored opposite affinities of Sun and Moon. Was that truly why Narcis had been hidden? If so, who had orchestrated it and why had they parted them at birth? No leads. The restricted files mentioned “Narcis Quinn: Status Unknown” but offered no explanation for his disappearance.

  He stood abruptly and snatched a jacket. He could not sit in the dorm any longer. Lissandre was out training and Krit had library duties. Roremand had been kinder since noticing Nathan’s anxious state, but Nathan did not know how to explain a lost twin to him. He slipped into the hall and let the hush of evening guide him up the stairs toward the rooftop garden.

  The rooftop garden was a quiet refuge dotted with potted trees and climbing vines. Under the pale glow of newly lit lanterns a gentle breeze rustled leaves and gave him a sense of calm. Only a few students ever ventured here at night, so Nathan often found it a perfect spot to think.

  He found a small bench near a cluster of moonflowers. Their petals gleamed faintly in the low light, reminding him with an odd pang of Narcis’s silver eyes. Sighing, he sat and pressed a hand to his temple as the memory of the dream swirled in his mind. “How am I supposed to reach you again, Narcis?” he whispered into the hush.

  “You call him by name now.”

  Nathan nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled to see Krit standing quietly behind him, a small lamp in hand. His pulse hammered. “I did not hear you come up,” he stammered.

  Krit’s gaze flicked to the moonflowers and then back to him. “I was in the library and saw you climb the stairs. I thought you might want company.”

  Nathan’s tension ebbed. “Thank you. My nerves are shot. I keep expecting illusions to jump out at me.”

  Krit sank down next to him, lamp resting at their feet. “Has anything else happened?”

  Nathan shook his head. “No and it is driving me mad. Narcis is out there alone in that swirling chaos while I am stuck playing normal student.”

  Krit’s expression was gentle. “Have you tried the dream incantation again?”

  Nathan hesitated. “Twice but I only got normal dreams. Maybe I was not in the right state of mind or the realm was closed to me. I am missing something.”

  He rubbed his eyes as exhaustion weighed on him. Krit placed a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps your first success was fueled by raw desperation. Recreating that exact feeling might be hard. Or Narcis might be in too deep, unreachable except in rare moments of overlap.”

  Nathan nodded miserably. “The old text said illusions feed on fear but also implied strong emotion can open the dream gate.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Krit let out a thoughtful hum. “Then maybe focusing on that bond—Sun and Moon—could help. If you share elemental resonance it might act as a beacon.”

  Nathan’s chest twisted. “The academy views opposite affinities as a huge threat if combined. Could that be why no one told me about Narcis? To protect us from forced synergy or from the Reaper’s hunts?”

  Krit’s mouth tightened. “Likely. That does not make it right.”

  They sat in silence as the breeze ruffled their hair. Finally Krit spoke. “What if you try forging a stronger anchor before you sleep? Something more potent than a candle flame. A personal item or a runic ward etched in your room.”

  Nathan considered. “I do not have anything of Narcis’s, of course. But a runic ward might keep illusions at bay and give me time to find him in the dream realm.” His eyes brightened with hope. “And if I adapt the formless casting Narcis taught me I could shape dream wards more effectively.”

  Krit offered a supportive nod. “If you go back do it with as many precautions as possible.”

  Nathan’s eyes glimmered with renewed resolve. “I will plan carefully. Thank you, Krit.”

  They parted soon after, leaving Nathan with a sense of purpose. The fear of illusions had not faded but it no longer paralyzed him. He was determined to do what no professor or parent had done for him: find Narcis and bring him home.

  That night he gathered chalk, a fresh candle and a small mirror. The plan was simple: create a rudimentary runic ward in a circle around his bed to anchor him physically and repel illusions. It was more an experiment than a guaranteed solution but better than nothing.

  He drew half circles of sun runes interspersed with basic protective symbols on the dorm floor. Lissandre teased him about the chalk lines but did not pry when he mumbled about a new casting approach. Once she fell asleep he lit the candle, placed the mirror near his pillow, and sat in the center of the runic circle.

  For a moment fear trembled in his gut. He recalled the terrifying shapes that had attacked him in the dream liminal realm and the panic of the illusions. Then he pictured Narcis’s terrified expression. He has been waiting. I cannot fail him now.

  He inhaled and let his mind sink into half sleep, focusing on the new incantation:

  “Under hush of night, I call the gate,

  Let our halves converge before it is too late.”

  The candle flame danced and the wards around him glimmered softly. Drowsiness nibbled at his mind yet he kept his intent sharp, imagining the swirl of color bridging him and Narcis. A gentle throbbing built in his ears, reminiscent of his first dream incantation.

  Darkness rushed to pull him down. The sensation of falling seized him yet he braced himself. Stay calm, keep the anchor.

  When the swirling kaleidoscope resolved he found himself once again on uncertain terrain, half formed illusions drifting overhead. The environment felt less chaotic this time as though his newly etched ward gave him a slender hold on stability. He forced calm and scanned for movement.

  A few ghostlike pieces of furniture and flickers of academy corridors floated by. No monstrous lumps attacked immediately. He took careful steps and called, “Narcis, can you hear me?”

  No response. He must be deeper again he thought grimly and forged ahead. Determined not to get lost he recalled Krit’s advice: use the twin bond as a beacon. He pictured Narcis’s silver eyes with all his heart and remembered the moment they clasped hands in that first dream. He let that memory guide his direction through the swirling shapes.

  Then he heard a voice in the distance, faint but clear, calling his name. Hope surged through him. He rushed forward and the illusions parted like curtains.

  He emerged into a fragment of forest. Gnarled trees flickered at the edges, their trunks half transparent. At the center stood Narcis, hair disheveled and face drawn with worry. Nalhis spun at Nathan’s approach, silver eyes wide with relief and shock.

  “You came back,” Narcis whispered, voice trembling.

  Nathan fought emotion. “I promised, didn’t I?” He stepped closer and noticed Narcis bracing as though ready for attack. “Are you hurt?”

  Narcis shook his head. “No… just exhausted. Time and distance are different here and I cannot rest properly. The illusions come and go.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You said you would return. Thank you.”

  They stared at each other in awe. Despite the chaos of the dream realm, a sense of belonging tugged at Nathan’s heart. He looks like me but reversed, a hidden half. He swallowed and his voice trembled. “Narcis, I need answers. Are we truly twins separated at birth?”

  Pain flickered across Narcis’s face. “Yes. We were born opposites of Sun and Moon. Our parents knew the Reaper would target us so they enlisted help to hide one of us. They hid me in this realm and left you outside. When I came of age I was told to bring you through the gate to reunite us. Something went wrong and I ended up trapped.”

  Nathan’s mind reeled. “Why does the academy pretend you do not exist?”

  “Fear,” Narcis said bitterly. “Opposite affinities reaching true synergy is said to unlock unstoppable magic. The academy fears us as much as the Reaper does. So they buried the truth.”

  Tears stung Nathan’s eyes. “We lost our entire childhood stolen by fear.”

  Narcis nodded. “I have watched you from a distance in dreams. You have been awakening to your power and so have I. But I am stuck. I need your help to anchor me back to reality.”

  Nathan’s chest ached with empathy. “Tell me how. I will do anything.”

  Before Narcis could answer the illusions shifted and a low growl rippled through the half formed forest. Shadows coalesced into dripping shapes and Narcis cursed softly. “They have found us. We cannot stay not yet. But at least we have spoken more.”

  Nathan’s heart thundered. “The Reaper is waking?”

  Narcis’s silver eyes flashed with urgency. “He is waking, Nathan. My watchers told me. The old threat was never gone. If he discovers us or our convergence too soon he will come. We must be prepared.”

  Nathan’s resolve hardened. “Then we will prepare. I will free you. I swear.”

  The illusions roared and monstrous silhouettes lunged. With a last glance at Narcis he braced himself and let the dream realm rush around him.

  He jolted awake drenched in sweat, tears on his cheeks and a vicious headache pounding in his skull. He clung to one thought as he sat up: he was not alone. Narcis was real and the Reaper’s threat loomed closer than any rumor suggested.