Bound by Time: The Keeper's Secret

The New Arrivals

Cassandra awoke to a sliver of sunlight cutting through the cracked windows, illuminating the dust swirling lazily in the air. For a brief, blissful moment, she thought she was back in her dorm room at university—safe, surrounded by her books and the hum of everyday life. But as her eyes adjusted, the intricate carvings on the stone walls and the regal decay of the room flooded her senses, shattering the illusion.

The ruins. She was still trapped in them.

Her heart sank as the weight of her reality set in once more. The grandeur of the room, with its broken stained-glass windows and fading elegance, loomed around her, cold and indifferent. She sat up slowly, her body stiff from the unrestful night, her mind buzzing with questions she couldn't answer. Why am I here?

Cassandra's gaze fell on the tall wardrobe across the room. With a sigh, she rose from the bed and crossed the cold stone floor, her fingers brushing against the smooth wood of the wardrobe's doors. She opened it, revealing a collection of dresses unlike anything she'd ever seen. The fabrics were foreign, the colours deep and vibrant, and they shimmered with an otherworldly quality.

Her hand settled on an emerald green dress woven with silver thread. The material was both light and heavy, draping over her arms like liquid starlight. She slipped it on, fastening the delicate clasps at the front. The dress fit her perfectly, though it was clearly made for someone else—someone who belonged here. It was regal, powerful, and alien to her.

She looked at her reflection in the cracked mirror. The girl staring back at her was someone she didn't recognize—poised, elegant, and completely out of place. But as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make sense of it all, a sudden, unsettling sensation rippled through the air.

After dressing in the foreign fabric, Cassandra couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It gnawed at her, a creeping sensation that made her skin prickle. The air in the ruins felt heavier, charged with an energy that hadn't been there before. She paused, listening intently, her pulse quickening as a sense of urgency washed over her.

Her gaze flicked to the hallway, and before she could stop herself, she made her way toward one of the spare rooms she hadn't yet explored. The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit chamber, and there—on a wide, worn bed—lay Isla and Selene. They were out cold, their bodies still as stone, their faces eerily peaceful. Cassandra's breath hitched.

"Isla? Selene?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Are they real?

She moved closer, her heart pounding in her chest. Carefully, she reached out and shook Isla's shoulder. "Wake up," she urged, her voice a little louder this time. Isla stirred, her eyes fluttering open, followed by Selene, who blinked in confusion.

"What... where are we?" Isla mumbled, pushing herself upright, her sharp features scrunched in confusion.

Selene sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. "Cassandra? Is this... real?"

Cassandra's eyes darted between the two of them, her mind racing. "I... I think so. I don't know what's going on, but you two just appeared here. I found you like this."

Both Isla and Selene looked around the room, the same bewilderment mirrored on their faces. "We were just... we had the strangest dream," Isla murmured, glancing at Selene, who nodded in agreement.

Selene's voice was soft but shaky. "We dreamed... about Thalia. And somehow... we know she's dead. But for whatever reason, a prophecy has been set in motion."

Cassandra's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing as the weight of Selene's words settled over her. "Thalia?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended. "Who is Thalia?"