Chapter One — Ash Before Morning
Fire came first.
Not the sound — the heat.
It pressed against her skin even though she couldn’t feel her body. The air tasted like smoke and iron, thick enough to choke on. Somewhere nearby, something collapsed. Wood. Stone. A scream cut off too fast.
Nyra tried to move.
She couldn’t.
Her feet were bare against cold ground, yet her chest burned like she was standing too close to the flames. Shadows stretched across the dirt, twisting unnaturally long, crawling toward her without touching her.
Someone was crying.
A child.
“No—” Her voice wouldn’t come out.
Hands — rough, shaking — grabbed her shoulders.
Run.
The word wasn’t spoken. It was pushed into her head.
Another image broke through: a small room, candlelight flickering against cracked walls. A woman kneeling, hands red and raw from work, pulling Nyra into a tight embrace.
“You’re strong,” the woman said. “You hear me? Stronger than all of them.”
The warmth shattered.
The fire surged back.
Something dark stood just beyond the flames. Not moving. Not attacking. Watching her like it had been waiting a very long time.
Stolen novel; please report.
Her chest tightened.
Nyra gasped—
“Nyra! Get up!”
Her eyes flew open.
Morning light stabbed through the thin curtains of her room. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs, breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. Sweat clung to her skin, her sheets twisted around her legs.
The smell of smoke was gone.
But the echo of heat lingered.
“I said get up!” her mother yelled again, sharp and exhausted. “You’re going to be late—again!”
Nyra squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her fingers into her temples. Her head throbbed. Her stomach rolled.
“I’m up,” she called back, her voice hoarse.
She wasn’t.
Her body felt like it had been dragged through something and barely made it out.
A door slammed down the hall.
“Tell her if she’s late again, I’m not covering for her!” her older brother shouted. “I already grabbed her schedule yesterday.”
“I didn’t ask you to!” Nyra shot back, pulling on her jacket.
“You were sick and half-asleep on the couch,” he replied. “Someone had to.”
A smaller voice laughed. “You just wanted an excuse to go.”
“Shut up,” Kael snapped, but there was no real bite to it.
Nyra paused in the doorway. “You seriously went to orientation for me?”
Kael lifted the folded paper between two fingers. “Original copy. Don’t lose it.”
Her mother glanced at her once in the kitchen and frowned. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine.”
The lie slipped out easily. It always did.
Her siblings crowded the doorway, arguing over nothing important. Someone bumped her shoulder. Someone else stole food from a plate. Laughter followed her out the door.
Normal.
By the time Nyra reached school, the noise felt too loud, too sharp. The halls buzzed with unfamiliar voices and forced excitement.
She spotted Kevin near the courtyard gates.
He saw her at the same time.
“There you are,” he said, relief cutting through his tone. “You scared me yesterday.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. The dreams wouldn’t stop, and then I got sick. I tried to get up, but my body just… wouldn’t.”
Kevin nodded. He’d seen this before.
“You always get like that after the bad ones,” he said quietly. “Orientation was boring anyway. Rules, schedules, warnings about being late.”
“Which I already failed,” Nyra muttered.
“I’ll help you catch up,” he said. “You’re not alone.”
They walked together.
A figure ahead of them caught Kevin’s attention.
Kael stood near the lockers, not trying — just existing. A girl laughed too loudly at something he said. Another leaned closer than necessary.
Kevin slowed without realizing it.
Nyra noticed. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“You’re doing that thing.”
Kevin scowled. “I’m just… looking.”
“Right.”
Kael smiled easily at someone, and Kevin looked away.
“He doesn’t even notice,” Kevin muttered.
“Notice what?” Nyra asked, already knowing.
Kevin shrugged. “People like him don’t.”
A teacher approached Nyra, holding out a sheet of paper.
“You weren’t present yesterday during orientation,” she said briskly. “This is a replacement schedule. Make sure you attend all required sessions from now on.”
She walked away.
Nyra stared down at the paper.
Kevin frowned. “Didn’t you say your brother picked yours up?”
“He did.”
They both turned.
Kael stood a few lockers down, lifting the folded schedule in his hand like proof, a smug smile on his face.
Kevin sighed. “So now you have two.”
Nyra groaned. “Of course I do.”
They headed into class.
Her vision swam.
Ash drifted through the air.
A shadow stood just behind her.
And a voice — calm, patient — waited for her to remember.
Kevin caught her wrist before she stumbled.
“Nyra.”
“I’m okay,” she said automatically.
He didn’t let go right away.
As she took her seat, the weight settled in her chest — heavy, familiar, unwelcome.
The nightmare hadn’t ended when she woke up.
It never did.
