Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Would you come into my dreams?” Augustine whispered.
It was late, and she was utterly exhausted. Alderian was lying right beside her, both of them staring silently at the ceiling after what had felt like the longest day of their lives.
“We must be cautious with that, Augustine,” Alderian murmured, turning his head toward her. “It’s tempting to believe that inside a dream we can surrender to our desires without restraint, but it’s never as simple as it seems.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking over at him.
“Dreams are a non-place,” Alderian explained, his voice soft yet heavy with warning.
“A space entirely devoid of time, existing only within the confines of your mind. It isn’t real.
Thinking you can live a full life there is dangerous because the more you indulge in it, the harder it becomes to return to your actual human experience. ”
“But just a little?” she pleaded gently.
“Let’s save those moments, my love,” Alderian said, offering her a faint, reassuring smile. “For now, you will have to make do with me like this. This is the only relationship we can have for the time being.”
Augustine let out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting back up to the ceiling.
Suddenly, a sharp noise rattled against the glass, shattering the quiet. She froze, listening intently until she heard it again—a soft, distinct thud as a small stone impacted the windowpane. Intrigued and slightly on edge, she slipped out from beneath the covers and cautiously peered outside.
Down below, Milán was standing on the sidewalk, looking directly up at her with his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets.
A cold shiver ran straight down her spine.
Snatching up her phone from the nightstand, she realized she had kept it on silent; the screen displayed twelve missed calls, all from him.
“Milán?” she muttered, her confusion quickly morphing into unease. She pushed the window open just enough to speak. “Can you come down?” Milán called up to her.
“It’s one in the morning, Milán,” Augustine responded, keeping her voice low but firm. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I only wanted to see you,” he said, his voice carrying through the quiet night air. “I’m just so worried about you. I’ve been thinking all night about whether you’ve eaten, if you were crying, or if perhaps you just needed someone here to comfort you.”
“I’m perfectly fine, Milán, and I really don’t think you should be showing up at my house at this hour,” Augustine replied, her defensive walls going up. “How do you even know where I live? I’ve never given you my address, let alone invited you here.”
“It’s only because I care about you so much; there’s absolutely no reason to get nervous,” he countered, his lips curving into a casual smile. “You’re all alone up there, aren’t you? Are you coming down?”
“No,” she snapped. “And please, do not come here again.”
Without waiting for his reply, she slammed the window shut, locked it, and forcefully pulled the heavy curtains together.
A hollow, sickening weight settled deep in her stomach—a primitive, instinctual fear.
The more she was forced to interact with him, the more the polite mask hiding his true face seemed to slip away, revealing the predator beneath.
He expertly hid a dark desire for dominance behind a veneer of kindness, disguising a toxic obsession as mere concern.
And now that his cyber-campaign had successfully driven everyone else away from her, he clearly intended to swoop in and present himself as her one and only savior. It was as manipulative as it was sinister.
“He’s gone,” Alderian announced, suddenly materializing at the far end of the room. He had stepped out into the night for a brief moment to ensure the threat had dissipated.
“I find Milán more and more disturbing by the second,” Augustine confessed, leaning her back against the wall as she tried to calm her racing heart. “I strongly suspect that he’s the mastermind behind everything that happened today.”
Alderian nodded gravely, his expression darkening. “I’ve been thinking the exact same thing. I encountered his A’aruin earlier today, and I walked away from that confrontation feeling even more deeply concerned. Neither of them seems to possess a single shred of scruples or principles.”
“Is that what you were doing while I was trapped in class?” she asked, looking up at him.
“I went straight to Milán’s room to see if I could uncover any digital evidence of what occurred,” Alderian admitted. “I found nothing.”
Augustine began to pace the length of the bedroom, lost in a labyrinth of her own thoughts. “I can’t openly accuse him without concrete proof. According to the university’s harassment policy, I have to be able to verify at least one explicit instance of misconduct to file a valid claim.”
Alderian hesitated, a look of inner conflict crossing his features.
“Well... there is some evidence in his room,” he began, appearing entirely unsure of whether he should share it, though he ultimately forced himself to speak.
“It isn’t definitive proof that he engineered this specific post, but it is absolute confirmation that he harbors a dangerous obsession with you.
I’ve known about it for a few days now. I’m incredibly sorry I didn’t tell you immediately, Augustine.
I simply didn’t wish to worry you unnecessarily. ”
Augustine stood perfectly still, listening intently as Alderian recounted the disturbing state of Milán's room and his chilling interaction with Antian.
“I can’t say I expected this, but it doesn't exactly surprise me either. It’s absolutely chilling,” Augustine said after a long, heavy silence.
“I can’t use what you saw as legal evidence, of course, but if my plan is successful tomorrow, I might just get the leverage I need to file an official report. ”
“How exactly do you plan to handle it?” Alderian inquired, stepping closer.
“I’ll have to corner this Isaac guy and pressure him into telling me exactly who submitted that anonymous post,” Augustine stated with fierce resolve. “As the admin, he’s the only one with direct access to that information.”
Suddenly, Alderian gave a violent start, his entire body tensing as his eyes widened.
“What’s wrong?” Augustine asked, instantly startled by his reaction.
“Someone is knocking on the front door of my palace... in A’aru,” Alderian breathed, his focus shifting entirely to the spiritual realm.
“I must go immediately. Please, don’t wait up for me.
It’s incredibly late, and you need to get some rest. I promise I’ll be back before you wake up tomorrow morning. ”
* * *
An ancient, resonant sound—the deep tolling of a knell—echoed ominously through the grand, echoing halls of the estate.
Alderian was visibly shaken by the aggressive summons echoing from the main gates.
For someone to visit him was a massive anomaly within the isolated palace, but above all, the formal knocking signaled a guest who did not frequent these grounds; otherwise, they would have simply bypassed the threshold and entered.
Moving with urgent swiftness, he broke into a run before taking flight, gliding down the massive corridors to shorten the distance to the entrance hall. He landed gracefully and swung the heavy, ornate doors wide open.
Waiting out on the stone landing was a lesser spirit, standing stiffly under the moonlight. Alderian recognized the uniform instantly: it was one of the personal servant spirits belonging to the High Council.