“A history lesson?” Melissa asked, getting a nod from the doll. The trans girl walked back to her seat and sat down. “You really know that much about what I’ve become?”

“We kind of have to. After all, it was us living nightmares that actually formed it,” Vee explained, her words earning surprise from the dreamers around her. “Yeah, didn’t expect that, did ya? Perhaps it would be better if I explained one thing first: not all living nightmares are bad and not all living dreams are good. We’re passed on perspectives, after all, not truth.”

“Based on perspectives?” Dragon asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Everyone finds different things comforting, and in the same vein everyone finds different things scary,” Vee replied, starting to pace across the table. All eyes followed them, Holly seeming to be especially curious as to what the doll had to say. “To give an example that isn’t that heavy – given everything that has happened the past twenty four hours could be considered pretty heavy – raising your left hand if you like horror movies. Raise your right hand if you hate them.”

Drew’s left hand shot up immediately, Holly doing the same more hesitantly. Dragon and Melissa raised their right, and the latter two immediately locked eyes with the couple. They could all immediately tell where this example was going. Dragon felt a little silly for not getting it sooner, but given the look on Vee’s mouth-head, it was worth it. The dolls seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the terrifying world of perspective!” Vee said, raising their tiny arms up as if to praise the sun. “No one dreamer has the same perspective, and it is that perspective that has driven your kind to do incredible things and horrible acts. These perspectives affect how certain aspects of the world are treated in your dreams too. Something you fear or hate can be something loved and admired by others.”

“Then Magral Knights aren’t supposed to fight just nightmares,” Melissa said. “They are supposed to fight nightmares and dreams.”

“Correct! Magral Knight's vow to end any nightmare or dream that threatens the people of your realm,” Vee continued on, turning to face the trans girl. “Typically they aren’t as horrible as Bael and are merely out to feed on a dreamer directly. Still bad, of course, but not genocide levels of bad.”

“That certainly makes sense,” Drew replied, leaning in and placing his arms on the table. “Do they let them be if they didn’t come here for that reason?”

Vee gave a nod to the man, then started paced back and forth once more. She needed to figure out what was important to explain in terms of Magral Knight history and what wasn’t. They didn’t have the time for a full lesson, especially since everyone present had a class to get to at some point in the day. That included Vee themselves, as it would be tagging along with Dragon to their class. They only hoped it didn’t involve being squished under a pile of books like Melissa had done to her the day prior.

Then there was the fact they had to deal with Deam too. They had told Akane they would deal with them, after all. Vee didn’t want to take any chance with someone like Deam being so close to so many schools. Waiting a night already left the possibility he had claimed a victim, and the doll wouldn’t let them claim another.

“We don’t know who the first Magral Knight truly was,” Vee suddenly stated. “We do know that they gained their name in the medieval era. While they saved lives, many saw them as witches and wizards,” It shifted to face Holly. “I’m guessing you all can guess how that played out, given the time period.”

“Catholics feared them and had them hunted down,” Dragon answered with zero hesitation. She looked from the doll to her water glass, swishing around the ice that occupied it. “Which is probably why we haven’t ever heard of them. They’ve stayed hidden due to that reason.”

“To be clear, we living nightmares gave them their names and not the church,” Vee replied, giving its dreamer a firm nod. “As for why nightmares specifically formed it… let’s just say our view of the world was more rightside up then the dreams of the era. Don’t blame us, but rather the era. Even when the Magral Knight felt they would be accepted they stayed hidden. It had become too much of their identity, and made their job easier in many ways.”

Holly let out an intrigued hum at Vee’s words, giving a subtle nod. She could definitely see the advantage of working undercover, especially since it kept more corporate or sinister things from harming them. It did leave the question on if Vee and Melissa were breaking any sort of rule about telling people about themselves, but it was too late to worry about that. If there were consequences, they would have to deal with them when that time came. Hopefully it would be after saving the whole world.

“Now, a question for our newby knight!” Vee said, turning her attention back towards Melissa again. “Might I ask what the spoken pledge is one says when they become a Magral Knight.”

Holly raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but considering she only became one yesterday, and by accident, how do you expect her t–“

“I dream the dreamer’s dream,” Melissa quoted. Holly looked at her in shock, having not expected such a clean answer. “Of a world of endless possibilities – of a world with infinite realities – to shape into our own.”

Her words were followed by silence, and for a brief moment she didn’t quite understand why. Then it hit her: she had been time stopped during her accidental initiation. Even more than that the chorus had been talking to her in her own head. None but her could hear their words, and none save Vee and herself know the pledge. It was a little embarrassing, but also made her feel like she wasn’t actually smart.

She liked that; smart never did her any good.

“I like it. Has a decent flow to it,” Drew said, giving an appreciative smile. He tapped his finger against the table and chuckled. “Through these dreams I break my past, freeing myself of long-standing pain; moving forward so my soul is no longer stained. By doing this, I show the world the truth it tried to take: that I am the dreamer I truly want to be.”

“Huh, that actually fits with the idea of the pledge too, in some aspects,” Vee repliee, tilting its head. “Didn’t take you for the poetic type, Drew.”

Drew looked at the plush doll pleasantly. “It’s a great way to vent. It’s also better on the knuckles than a punching bag or pillow.”

Vee wasn’t sure how to take his response. It was more than the doll had expected.

“Don’t mind him. He just can’t admit he likes something for the sake of enjoying it,” Holly replied, getting a look of faux betrayal out of her boyfriend. At no point did he deny her claims. “So, the pledge my man turned into a poem, I’m guessing it has some sort of meaning.”

Vee looked between the two, not understanding any of what was going on, and then shrugged. Love never made any sense to it, and didn’t get why some nightmares or dreams got so obsessed about their dreamer finding a loved one. At the end of the day it always decided it never would and continued on. There were more important things in its life anyways, like beating Nica any time the damn dragon showed its face.

“Yep, though I’m sure all of you have probably guessed it by now,” Vee replied, looking to each dreamer for confirmation. They each gave a nod, Melissa adding a thumbs up to her answer. “Tell me what you all think.”

“Forge your future,” Dragon answered with haste.

“Once again correct,” Vee said, giving its dreamer a nod. “It was you dreamers that made it, not my kind. It was created by peasants who wished for freedom from monarchy, and the knights who did not partake in their corruption,” The doll turned to face Melissa shifting from that of a teacher to one more serious. “The Magral Knights are no organization, but more a code. A code by those who fight to be who they truly want to be. Outside of the smell of nightmares, that is what one looks for the most when it comes to choosing a new Magral Knight. Tell me Meany, do you vow to be yourself?”

“My name isn’t ‘Meany’ you know,” Melissa replied with a frown. That frown faded into a smile moments later. “Yes. Being myself is something I’ve been trying to relearn since I came to Vermont, and I’ll continue that even as a Magral Knight.”

The vertical mouth Vee had made it impossible to tell, but Melissa swore that she could make out a smile. Either that or the doll was always smiling and this is the first time she had noticed it. Could Vee do anything but smile? The more questions spawned by the doll’s expression, the more Melissa’s head hurt. She discarded all of them soon after.

“Glad to hear it!” Vee cheered. It turned one hundred and eighty degrees in order to look at Holly and Dragon. “You two better promise the same. Even if you don’t fight, you are still becoming Magral Knights for your own safety.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“I’ll do my best,” Dragon said, her vision falling upon her lap in insecurity. “Just don’t expect much.”

Holly’s eyes looked similarly downward, though it was her braced leg that her eyes landed on. “I would love to help out myself but… I have other things to do first. Won’t be of any use till I walk.”

“As I said, this is more to protect you all,” Vee explained, getting both girls to look at her. “You all are important to Maria, and I’m gonna do what I can to keep you safe even if some of you are insufferable,” Melissa felt her eyelid twitch at the statement. “So just worry about learning to walk again for now.”

Holly gave an uncertain nod, and talk returned to Magral Knights and their history.

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To say Lucy felt scared without her friends, especially without Melissa, around was an understatement. If she was by herself she would have been fine, but this wasn’t her bedroom. No, this was a classroom with several other students and a teacher constantly talking. She knew that none of them would do her any harm, and that there was no reason to be afraid as she continued to look tough. Only one thing was getting in the way of that, and it was her own mind.

As eyes were to do in two hours of sitting in the same seat, student eyes would trail off the teacher to those around them. For most it was fine, but for Lucy it did nothing but make her paranoid. She wasn’t particularly close with anyone in said class, and anytime an onlooker from a far off table glanced her way she froze. They meant nothing by it, and she knew that well, but there was an underlying fear inside her that never left. It was even worse when said eyes belong to a boy, something she screamed at her mind specifically.

None of the boys present had done anything to deserve her fear.

Against her own will, she found herself remembering a far darker time in her life. A time when she knew French better than she knew English, and none around her bothered to understand a word she said. A time before she had been taken in by the Bernson’s had taken her in. For most people those childhood days were typically considered the best days of their lives. For her it was the absolute worst, and thinking back made her skin feel dirty and sticky in the worst possible way.

Yet even in this horrid period of her life, she could find something good to focus on. A small smile dared to show on her face, the shadow of one other good man in her life calming her. She had no idea who he was, and until recently she had thought they were human. Now, Lucy was certain of who and what had aided her in those final two weeks of hell. It took all her will to hold in the chuckle she wanted to let out, knowing it had been a living nightmare that had saved her.

Her living nightmare.

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Twelve years ago…

A girl laid in the worst excuse for a bedroom imaginable, her entire body sore and dirty. She dared not to think why it was dirty, knowing that she had taken as long of a shower as possible. The water had been cold, and she wasn’t sure it was clean, but it had been all she had. The sheets were old, the walls seemed to have mold, and the carpet had been stained with… stuff. Yes, it was just stuff and she dared to not think of it as anything else.

No one would willingly live there, and that is why she had been placed there. The door to her room was locked, and the windows had been boarded to prevent her escape. The paleness of her skin showed just how little sun she was allowed to see, and she knew if she was being taken outside it was not for good reasons. No, that was because it was time for her to ‘perform’, and performing was something she hated.

For nearly two years since being stolen away from her family, this had been the life of the eight year old Lucy Francois. She had been stuffed into a box on a plane, flown to America, and then sold to men for… things. She didn’t know what it was called but everything about it was horrific. Even worse, she knew zero English, and they either didn’t know French or ignored her ability to speak. As far as they cared, her mouth was not for speaking.

Just thinking about it made her want to gag.

She hid under her bed, crying for so long she was hyperventilating. It was common for her to do this, and even more common for her to fall asleep underneath the bed instead of on top of it. It typically gave her more time before she was forced into her unwanted role in her kidnappers' perverted plays. They always found her, and any time she ran they had easily caught her, but the idea she had control over something was better than nothing.

“Are you okay, milady?”

The sudden gruff masculine voice scared Lucy half to death, looking up from the floor to in front of her. She crawled back in fear and terror, the overly muscular, seemingly clothesless thing before her terrified her. Out from the bed she went, scooting back till her back was against the wall. At no point did the thing under her bed chase after her, staying where it was in silence. How had it gotten in her room, and what horrible thing did this man want to do to her?

It had to be a man. It was never anyone but a man. Granted something about it seemed wrong, considering the lack of mouth and glowing crimson eyes, but she was smart enough to know it was still a man.

“Do I truly scare you, milady?” The man asked. Lucy’s only responsibility was to shrink against the wall, which told her sudden company all they needed. “They were right then, you do not enjoy it. The manner of my existence truly is a horrible one.”

The fact he spoke fluent French was not lost on the little girl. It didn’t mean much in the end, but it made her feel the slightest bit that they weren’t like the others. She still refused to get near him, preferring to have her body as far from them as possible. Her heart beat far too fast, but it slowed as it became more and more clear that whoever this was had decided not to approach. It was the first time in two years she had felt the comforting feeling of personal space with someone else around.

“Might I ask your name?” The man said.

Lucy considered her options, and came to the belief not answering would be far worse for her. “L-Lucy.”

Her voice was quiet as a mouse, barely audible to the human ear. The man before her heard it, however, and despite a lack of mouth Lucy could see his cheekbones rise and eyes squint slightly. It was the closest to a smile he could possibly achieve, and somehow less creepy than any man she could well remember. It was odd, especially since she knew that whoever was before her was most definitely not normal and definitely creepy in the physical department.

“Lucy? A fitting name that is,” the man replied. “My name is Baarham. I wish to say I was a fine man of decent renown, but I’m not. Do not worry though, I am not here for what you think I am.”

“Th-that’s a lie,” Lucy replied, her words earning a wince from the man-creature under her bed. “No one wants me for any other reason.”

“Yes, that is how they have treated you. It is rather horrible for one so young,” Baarham replied. Lucy didn’t answer, unsure if she should believe he was telling the truth or speaking lies. “I can assure you I no longer have the wish to indulge myself in that cruel world. If it makes you feel safer though, feel free to keep your distance.”

Lucy decided to do just that, and as the minutes ticked by she watched as Baarham did nothing. Sometimes she would hear him hum, but he never moved. No advances, no suggestive comments, and no show of force. It was odd, but Lucy wasn’t thankful for the knowledge someone wouldn’t use her. Perhaps it was her young age, or maybe it was the desperation for non-sexual company, but she started to believe Baarham was speaking the truth.

“W-why are you here?” Lucy asked.

Baarham looked to the left, and then back to the young girl before him. “Repenting for my very existence.”

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked, continuing her question. “What is repenting?”

“Repenting means that I don’t want to be a bad man anymore,” Baarham answered, his tone growing solemn. “I enjoyed horrible things milady, because I was made by horrible fear. I don’t want to enjoy them anymore.”

Lucy’s eyes drifted to the right as she heard those words. “I understand. I also don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to be used for horrible things.”

“Then perhaps I can help you out, milady,” Baarham said.

Those simple words sparked something in Lucy’s mind. Something she hadn’t felt in nearly two years: hope. Desperation to escape clouded any better judgment, and Lucy crawled back towards the bed. Tears were starting to form in her eyes again as she gave Baarham the most pleading look she could possibly conjure. She was willing to do anything to see her mom again, and at that moment a complete stranger seemed more trustworthy than anyone she had come to know.

“You mean it?! You can get me back to mama?!” She asked.

“I can at least free you from this horrible fate,” Baarham replied, holding back a chuckle as he saw the pure childish joy on Lucy’s face. It fit her far better than fear did. “Just give me time. Last thing I would want is for you to end up on the streets. That would be worse.”

“Okay,” Lucy replied with a hasty nod. “Thanks Baarham. You’re creepy looking, but very nice.”

Baarham laughed at her words. “Thanks, milady. That means a lot.”

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Present day…

“Baarham,” Lucy mouthed, a small grin present on her face. “That is what you meant all those years ago, didn’t you?”

Until yesterday, the thought she had possibly been talking to a literal being of her nightmares didn’t hit her. In some odd way it made her want to giggle at the newly realized irony of the situation. A being made of her nightmares had freed her from the very thing that formed them. It made her happy to know that, no matter why they were formed, it was possible for a nightmare to not become the monsters they were in one's mind. Vee had seemed like an exception, but she could now prove that they were the rule.

“Lucy?” Called one of her partners at her table. Lucy turned to look at them, taken out of her reminiscences. “You good?”

“Of course! Don’t you worry yourself,” She said, putting a hint of ego into her words and voice.

As soon as the classmate had looked back to their professor, Lucy let out a breath of relief. They didn’t need to know what she had been through. Pity and a consistent stream of “I’m sorry” awaited her if she did, and that wasn’t what she wanted. It was that exact same reason she had held details back from her friend. What Melissa had learned the previous night was the most any of her friends had ever been given.

If there was anyone she trusted to tell it to, it was Melissa. Lucy knew it was only a matter of time till she was asked out by her best friend. When that happened, she would have to find the best moment to explain everything. It was the fear of telling Melissa that had kept Lucy from asking her out, and she would let it stay that way. They would have to come to her, it was the only possible way.

Until then, however, Lucy would do her damndest to keep the newly made magical girl alive. Flipping to the back of her notebook, she returned to her secretive work on an outfit. It may not be part of keeping her friend alive, but it was important. After all, what was a magical girl without the perfect outfit?