Chapter 219 — Something Familiar

Chapter 219: Chapter 219 — Something Familiar

~ Raven ~

Raven stared at Isolde, struggling to believe what she’d just heard.

She didn’t remember anything?

After everything they’d gone through inside that dreadful nightmare, Isolde was telling her that she couldn’t remember a single thing?

"Wait," Raven said, leaning forward in her chair. "What do you mean you don’t remember anything?"

Isolde blinked at the sudden question before noticing the expression on Raven’s face.

"Oh, Goddess, Raven. That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I remember the nightmare," Isolde explained, adjusting the cloak around her shoulders. "Unfortunately, I remember practically every miserable second of it."

Raven stopped.

"You do?"

"Of course I do." Isolde gave her a tired look. "The running, that bastard chasing us, the pain and you refusing to leave me alone even when I told you to. Trust me, I’d quite happily forget the entire experience if I could."

Raven felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

For a moment there, she’d genuinely thought the Dreamwalker had managed to erase everything they’d experienced together.

"Then why did you say you couldn’t remember?"

"Because I don’t remember what happened afterward." Isolde sighed, settling more comfortably against the chair. "The last thing I remember is being on the ground, feeling as though somebody was trying to tear my skull apart. You were holding my hand, and I was trying very hard to stay conscious."

For a moment, Raven was back in that dreadful dreamspace, gripping Isolde’s hand as her fingers slowly loosened around hers.

She’d begged her to stay awake, but Isolde had only managed a faint apology before her head dropped forward, leaving Raven desperately trying to rouse her.

The memory left her stomach in knots.

"You passed out," Raven said quietly.

Isolde nodded. "I gathered that much."

"You scared the shit out of me."

For once, Isolde didn’t immediately respond.

She looked at Raven for a moment, and something in her expression softened.

"I’m sorry."

Raven frowned, not particularly prepared for an apology. "What?"

"For frightening you." Isolde glanced down at her hands before looking up again. "And thank you, Raven. For everything you did in there."

Raven shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Isolde continued before she could think of something to say.

"You could have left me. Goddess knows I practically begged you to at one point, but you stayed, even when that bastard started coming after you instead."

"Isolde—"

"I’m serious." Her voice remained quiet, although there was no mistaking the sincerity beneath it. "You went into that nightmare to help me, and when things became dangerous, you still refused to abandon me. I haven’t forgotten that."

Raven looked away for a moment.

She’d spent days worrying about whether Isolde would ever wake up, and now that she finally had, the woman had decided to make her uncomfortable by being genuinely grateful.

How irritating.

"You would’ve done the same for me," Raven muttered.

Isolde considered that for a moment before a faint smile returned to her face.

"I’d like to think so."

Raven glanced back at her, and they shared a small smile before Isolde shifted in her chair.

"So," she said, "what happened after I lost consciousness?"

Raven hesitated.

There was quite a lot to explain, and unfortunately, she wasn’t particularly interested in remembering most of it.

"The Dreamwalker came after me," she began. "I tried fighting him, but things got worse. He started doing something to my mind, and for a while, I couldn’t even remember what was happening."

Isolde’s smile disappeared.

"He was trying to get inside your memories?"

"I think he was trying to do considerably more than that." Raven rubbed her hands together, remembering the horrible sensation of thoughts slipping away before she could hold on to them. "Whatever he was doing, I couldn’t stop him."

Isolde watched her carefully.

"Then how did you escape?"

"Dante."

That brought her up short.

Isolde stared at her. "Dante?"

"Prymont," Raven confirmed, although she wasn’t certain why the clarification was necessary. "He somehow managed to get inside the nightmare and fought that bastard long enough for us to get out."

For several seconds, Isolde said nothing.

Then she slowly leaned forward.

"Dante Prymont entered the dreamspace?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Raven gave her a look. "If I knew that, do you think I’d still be sitting here trying to understand what happened?"

Isolde didn’t respond to the irritation.

Instead, her gaze drifted away, and she appeared to consider something Raven couldn’t quite follow.

"Hm."

Raven frowned.

There was something about that reaction she didn’t particularly like.

"Isolde?"

"Hm?"

"What?"

The woman looked back at her. "Nothing."

Raven narrowed her eyes, thoroughly unconvinced.

Isolde seemed to notice her suspicion but offered no further explanation. Whatever she’d been thinking about had left her looking unusually conflicted, and Raven found herself wondering whether Dante’s involvement meant something she hadn’t considered.

Nevertheless, Isolde had barely recovered from several days of unconsciousness, and Raven wasn’t particularly interested in interrogating her over every strange expression.

She decided to leave it alone.

Isolde eventually leaned back again.

"Anyway, as I was saying, that’s the last thing I remember. One moment I was lying in that dreadful place, wondering whether my head was going to explode, and the next I was waking up in the infirmary."

She shook her head, clearly still irritated by the experience.

"Imagine my surprise when the healers informed me that several days had passed."

Raven almost laughed at the expression on her face.

"You’ve been unconscious for days, Isolde. What did you expect?"

"Not to discover that I’d apparently slept through half the academy’s activities."

"You were recovering."

"Unconscious, Raven. There’s a difference."

"Not one that matters particularly much when you’re the person lying in the bed."

Isolde gave her an unimpressed look before continuing.

"And then, as though that wasn’t insulting enough, I discovered I’d missed the Renewal Ball."

Raven stared at her.

Of all the things Isolde could have complained about after almost dying, that was what bothered her?

"The Ball?"

"Yes, the Ball." Isolde looked genuinely offended by the memory. "Do you have any idea how long I’d been looking forward to that?"

Raven opened her mouth, then closed it again.

Goddess, this woman was unbelievable.

"You were practically dying."

"I know that, Raven."

"And you’re upset because you missed a dance?"

"An important dance," Isolde corrected, giving her a look. "With half the academy in attendance, several noble Houses represented, and enough romantic scandals to keep Bellringer occupied for the next week."

Raven’s eyes narrowed.

"Oh, so that’s what this is about."

Isolde smiled innocently.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You woke up barely an hour ago, and the first thing you decided to do was broadcast about my love life."

"Not the first thing."

"Isolde."

"The healers insisted on examining me first. Very thorough people, although I would’ve appreciated it if they’d been slightly less enthusiastic about keeping me in bed."

Raven dragged a hand down her face.

She was beginning to understand why the healers hadn’t been particularly pleased about Isolde leaving the infirmary.

"And then," Isolde continued, determined to make matters worse, "I discover that you somehow managed to cause a scandal involving two Cardinal heirs while I was unconscious."

"I didn’t cause anything!"

"Of course not." Isolde’s smile widened. "Those two simply decided to fight each other for entirely unrelated reasons."

Raven glared at her.

Isolde laughed softly, although the sound faded when she shifted against the chair and briefly closed her eyes.

Raven noticed immediately.

"Are you alright?"

"Just tired."

"Then maybe you should’ve stayed in bed instead of running around the academy tormenting people."

"And miss the pleasure of seeing you again?" Isolde opened her eyes and smiled. "Never."

Raven rolled her eyes, but the sight of Isolde sitting there, conscious and annoying as ever, made it difficult to remain properly irritated.

A few days ago, she’d been afraid they might never have another conversation like this.

She certainly wasn’t going to admit how relieved she was that she’d been wrong.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Isolde adjusted the cloak around her shoulders again, and Raven noticed the amusement gradually disappearing from her face.

Something else appeared in its place.

A thoughtful frown.

"Raven."

Raven looked up. "What?"

"There’s something that’s been bothering me."

"Only one thing? That’s impressive."

Isolde didn’t smile.

That was enough to make Raven straighten slightly.

"What is it?"

"The Dreamwalker."

Raven’s expression changed.

"What about him?"

Isolde hesitated, searching for the right words.

"There’s something familiar about that bastard."

Raven frowned.

"Familiar?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean?"

"That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out." Isolde looked down at her hands, turning one palm upward as though the answer might be written there. "Ever since I woke up, I’ve been thinking about what happened inside that nightmare. His voice, the way he moved, the things he said..."

She paused.

"Something about him feels familiar."

Raven watched her carefully.

"Do you think you’ve met him before?"

"I don’t know."

"You don’t know?"

"Goddess, Raven, do you think I’d be sitting here complaining about it if I knew?"

Raven raised her hands slightly.

"Alright. I’m just asking."

Isolde sighed and leaned back, looking increasingly frustrated with herself.

"It’s difficult to explain because I don’t actually remember meeting anyone like him. I couldn’t even see his face properly."

"Neither could I."

"I know. And yet..." Isolde frowned again. "Every time I think about him, there’s this strange feeling that I should recognize something."

Raven considered that.

The Dreamwalker had been entering people’s minds without their permission, changing things and making them believe experiences that weren’t real.

For all she knew, he’d already encountered Isolde long before the nightmares began.

But that still didn’t explain what Isolde was describing.

"Maybe he did something to your memories," Raven suggested.

"Perhaps, but that’s not quite what I mean."

"Then what?"

Isolde fell quiet for a moment before looking directly at her.

"My wolf."

Raven blinked.

"What about your wolf?"

"I think my wolf recognizes him."

That wasn’t the answer Raven had expected.

She stared at Isolde, trying to understand what she meant.

Isolde seemed equally frustrated by the explanation.

"Every time I remember his presence, my wolf reacts. Not simply because she’s frightened or angry about what happened. It’s something else, almost as though she’s encountered him before."

Raven’s brows drew together.

"So your wolf knows him, but you don’t?"

"That’s what it feels like."

"That doesn’t make any sense."

"Thank you, Raven. That has been remarkably helpful."

Raven ignored the sarcasm.

She’d heard of wolves recognizing things their human counterparts struggled to understand, and her own wolf had certainly demonstrated a talent for reacting to people before Raven knew what to make of them.

Still, recognizing someone whose face neither of them had been able to see was considerably stranger.

"Are you sure it’s recognition?" she asked. "Couldn’t your wolf just be remembering how dangerous he was?"

Isolde considered the suggestion.

"I thought about that too. But when I remember the pain or what he did to us, I know exactly why she reacts. This is different."

She pressed her lips together, looking thoroughly dissatisfied.

"It’s almost like remembering something you know you’ve experienced before, except every time you try to work out where it happened, there’s nothing there."

Raven slowly nodded.

"And you haven’t remembered anything useful since waking up?"

"Nothing."

Raven thought about that for a moment.

If Isolde’s wolf was recognizing something about the Dreamwalker, there was a possibility they were closer to discovering his identity than they’d realized.

Unfortunately, a strange feeling wasn’t much to work with.

And until Isolde could identify exactly what her wolf was responding to, they were left with another mystery neither of them knew how to solve.

"Maybe it’ll come back to you once you’ve recovered properly," Raven suggested.

Isolde gave a tired sigh.

"Perhaps."

She looked away, considering something else, and Raven decided not to press the issue further.

The woman had only awakened an hour ago. Expecting her to immediately solve a mystery involving someone capable of invading their minds seemed unreasonable, even by Valerius standards.

Raven settled back into her chair.

She was beginning to wonder whether she should insist Isolde return to the infirmary when she noticed the woman looking at her again.

At first, Raven thought she was about to continue their conversation.

Then Isolde’s expression changed.

Her brows drew together, and she slowly straightened in her chair.

Raven frowned.

"What?"

Isolde didn’t answer.

Instead, her eyes moved over Raven’s face with such unusual concentration that Raven began wondering whether she’d somehow acquired something offensive on her forehead.

"Isolde?"

The woman’s eyes widened.

For several seconds, she simply stared.

Then she suddenly pointed at Raven.

"You!"

Raven blinked.

"What?"

Isolde remained frozen, her expression caught somewhere between surprise and complete disbelief.

Raven looked down at herself before looking back up.

"What the hell did I do now?"

But Isolde wasn’t smiling.

There was none of the usual amusement in her expression, and for once, she didn’t appear remotely interested in making Raven uncomfortable for entertainment.

Instead, she leaned forward slightly.

Then she sniffed.

Raven stared at her, thoroughly affronted.

"Excuse me?"

Isolde didn’t respond.

She moved a little closer, her gaze sharpening as she drew another breath.

Raven leaned back instinctively, increasingly convinced that several days of unconsciousness had done something terrible to the woman’s brain.

"Isolde, what the fuck are you doing?"

The woman slowly lifted her head.

Whatever she’d noticed seemed to have left her completely stunned.

For a moment she looked as though she couldn’t decide whether to speak or continue staring.

Then her lips parted.

"You..." Isolde whispered, her eyes widening even further. "You’re the Dreamwalker?!"