"Use them to create something…far worse?" Layla repeated pensively.

Lammy couldn't help but find affirmation noticing he wasn't the only one confused. Zayza's precise phrasing gave him a shudder.

What was Proscious creating?

Zayza took a long pause, glancing at all three of them, and then at her cell gate again.

"Azvaylen may not only be where the destruction happens," she said, "but instead, where it begins…"

~~~

(Months before…)

Zayza didn't want to ever be Queen.

She had no thirst for authority, and even lacked the appetite for the little influence she had over Azvaylen now. As the second child, she always figured she wouldn't have to trouble herself with such lofty responsibilities. Vayva would one day succeed her parents, marry Fewpar, and they would rule the kingdom. They would see to the safety and wellbeing of the nation.

And yet here Zayza was, warping across the Dream World to meddle in these very affairs.

But it wasn't a call to duty that led her to these reddening skies and black grassy plains.

On the contrary, it was rebellion.

It seemed at every turn of her life, her family rose up to oppose her motivations in favor of their own. They held expectations for her that she never wanted to achieve. They were always right.

It instilled a constant rebellion within her.

And now, that rebellion towards them was the very reason she could sense they needed her help.

For once, she knew she was right: something was severely wrong.

But she feared perhaps she was already too late.

The closer she warped to her father's presence, the clearer she could hear the moans and cries. It was worse than she'd thought: Proscious wasn't simply tampering with his mind: they were eating at it.

She had to hurry.

Blinking to a new displacement high in the brittle air, Zayza brought her pursuit to a dead halt.

A Dreamer Guard.

But…this far away from where she could sense her father?

Their grayish purple robe proved it was undeniably a guard, and not another Dreamer within the castle. The hood covered their entire head and face, save two eyeholes, and flowed down to their ankles with Azvaylen's insigna on the front, just as every Dreamer Guard’s attire.

Thankfully they hadn't spotted her above.

Zayza warped backwards several paces and ascended higher. She peered down below:

Two…three…

Spread out evenly across the hills and plains, Dreamer Guards were everywhere. Some even floated in the sky like dark stars.

This many…? Zayza observed. Her father would never assign this many guards for himself unless there was some sort of immediate threat.

So he wasn't the one who assigned them.

Proscious was hiding something about her father that they couldn't afford to be uncovered.

There were too many guards for Zayza to sneak past totally undetected. And the way security operated in the castle now, wrapped around Proscious's filthy finger, even she wouldn't be welcome in this area. If she wanted to get through to her father, she needed to fight.

But these were fellow Azvaylens–friends and colleagues of hers in the Dreamer Arts.

Her father's wailing soared faintly across the sky once more.

She had no choice.

Zayza searched deep within her mind, and then spread the probing sensation throughout her body. Commencing a meditative technique one of her instructors—who was likely among these guards—taught her, she forced a shift in the nature of her powers to taint it.

Her energy would now shine yellowish instead of the familiar green she was known for. The resulting cognitive sensation was dissonant: it felt just like lying.

Zayza sighed. She summoned the energy, creating a skin of light all around her to mask her identity.

She was ready.

But…they were her friends. So perhaps…

She eyed a position in the air, equidistant from the first Dreamer Guard and the next. Zayza warped there, aiming to blink forward again immediately and put off being detected as long as possible.

"Halt!"

How foolish of her.

These were some of the highest-skilled Dreamers in the Multiverse. Of course they would sense her instantly.

She knew that voice: an old classmate.

How foolish of her to hope.

Zayza spun to face him and immediately fired a yellow blast of energy, sharp and pointed. Top Academy graduates had Pain Tolerances like fortresses–to eject him out of the Dream World, this had to hurt.

Her false-colored energy ripped through his own orange blast like nothing and stabbed into him. Screaming, the young man disappeared.

I'm sorry, Zuenik, Zayza's mind ached.

She soon found there would be no more time for mental apologies. Within a moment, dozens more guards were upon her.

Zayza tried her best not to internalize their cries. Even now, they were no match for her. With every blast she fired, every teleportation and dodge, and every redirected attack, another Dreamer Guard succumbed to the pain and vanished from the Dream World.

Several of them defended one particular direction, which matched Zayza's senses: her father was that way.

"STOP!"

"This Dreamer is too strong! Who is he?!"

Her father's voice bellowed in the distance again underneath the guards' increasing worries.

Praying she could maintain the false shade of energy with her next technique, Zayza prepared herself.

The true extent of her power and skill was meant to remain secret at all costs. But if there was ever a time to risk unveiling it, that was now.

Energy flickered all around her like heat lightning, encompassing the increasing flocks of guards. With a single step forward, she darted through the air, energy blasting out from her.

She didn't look back. If any guards' Pain Tolerance survived the blow, this move communicated further attempts against her stood no chance. She'd taken out the majority of their forces.

This granted her a window of time before reinforcements would come, and before Dreamers she defeated could recover and return.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

It was her only chance to get through to her father.

She continued forward towards his presence.

The King’s voice became clearer as she zoomed over the white plains. It transformed from empty cries to words:

"Enough…!"

"...Why…?"

"...There's no end…!!"

"I am a lie!!"

Zayza touched down onto a circle of hills. Perfectly in the center, within a minor valley, hunched a sorry figure.

His once-glorious purple armor dangled loosely around his shaking limbs, which all barely kept the rest of him above the grass. Black weeds weaved in and out of his sunken clothing like he'd been there for decades.

The king's hair, normally silvery and full like a traditional blade, was frail here in the Dream World.

His moans continued on as Zayza could barely stand to watch, his tears purple and bloodlike in texture, blotching the pure ground.

"Father…"

He recoiled. "The voices…get out of my head…"

Zayza dismissed the energy around her body. "Father, I'm here."

Her voice shook, though she tried to prevent it. She and her sisters were to exude strength in his presence at all times. Even now, in the King's condition, she fell naturally into this notion.

But when the King finally lifted his head to her, all formal discipline was absent.

For the first time, she saw his love for her written on his face. She didn't have to hear it or guess.

"My Zayza…?" he gasped. "My daughter?"

Zayza rushed down to him, arms reaching out and tears glistening. It was something she hadn’t done this since she was a little girl, after having scraped her knees playing or losing an argument against Vayva. And each time, royal guards would seize her by the hands and tug her away: her father couldn't be bothered with her trivial matters.

Zayza practically expected to feel their rough hands yank at hers again. But this time, there was nothing keeping her from her father.

She fell over him in a tearful hug.

"I knew if anyone would try to find me here, and succeed, it would be you," the King remarked, still wincing from a hidden, constant pain. "You're powerful. And too much like your mother: a stubborn contrarian."

"What has become of you, Father?" Zayza sniffed. "What have they done to you?"

"You were right…I should have never partnered with them…once your mother began voicing suspicions, they…affected us," he said. "Everything we say and do in the real world is according to their will. They control our minds somehow. But because of it, on the inside…the pain…it’s unbearable…"

He coughed up something black and tarry.

"You can only see its true effects because we're in the Dream World: a mind's realm," he grunted. "This is what I’ve really felt…for months…endlessly…and this is what your mother feels, too. I'm sure of it…Sleep is our minds’ only freedom, but it only brings more agony…"

Zayza recalled her mother's tossing and turning when she and Oflenur snuck into their bedroom minutes ago. She was moaning, crying, stuck in a nightmare.

Her father shook violently, and let out another scream. His face felt cold.

"Months of this…months of horror…" he muttered.

Then, he wept. Zayza could do little but watch on—she hardly recognized him.

"What should I do? How do I help you?" Zayza pleaded.

For the first time in perhaps years, the King smiled. But his eyes remained empty.

"Zayza, it is too late for me and your mother," he said. "You cannot save—"

"I can! Why have you never believed in me like you do in Vayva and Layla?" Zayza shot.

Her regret was immediate. But it was too late.

"Please…let me try and save—" she restarted softer.

"Zayza, just this once, please trust your Father," the King croaked. He stumbled onto his side, and Zayza rushed to catch him. "I do not deserve it…but I'm begging you."

Mouth quivering, Zayza tried to listen.

"The ways I've treated and raised you have not always been fair, my daughter; such is the life of a princess. But…it was all calculated…" he promised in between harsh coughs. "I know you feel I've taken more pride in your sisters' accomplishments than yours. But Vayva, you, and Layla are all magnificent, and in very different ways. Your way is so special, and so important…that it needed to be kept secret."

His sudden shout jolted Zayza back into fear. Purple light began glowing weakly around the King, especially in his eyes. His exclamations only grew more violent as he collapsed, generating sounds Zayza didn't know a human could produce.

"FATHER!"

“It’s…it's ripping my mind apart…" he choked. "Zayza…I didn't keep your abilities private out of shame. Your power—the incredible power you've cultivated—is Azvaylen's most precious hidden weapon…"

Zayza had no choice but to release her grasp on him: his body had grown scorchingly hot.

"What…?" she uttered.

"You've become the most powerful Dreamer in Azvaylen…perhaps in all of history. You know this," he gasped. "But any knowledge of this outside our family would have made you a target for adversaries. And now, a time such as this is precisely what you were meant for. Proscious knows nothing of your true Dreamer power—if they did, they would have tried to recreate it from you instead of me…"

"R…recreate it?"

The King nodded weakly. "Proscious…is trying to build something that will destroy the way of the Multiverse forever…They need full access to our powers to do it, so they earned—and then forced—our trust…"

He stopped and screamed again, the dull light flickering.

"They believe I am the strongest Dreamer…but it's you…and as long as they're ignorant to that, you'll have the final advantage to stop them…it has to be you, Zayza…" the King told her. "Vayva has been deceived by their ways; she believes Proscious will restore us to our former glory. And Layla is too young to fathom what is happening. But you understand, and you have the power. Only you can stop Proscious before it's too late."

Suddenly, Zayza couldn't feel anything.

This was what he truly thought of her?

This was who she was?

She was supposed to be the least remarkable sister, at least in the eyes of the nation. She was the least fit to become a queen, even if she wanted it.

Too naïve…

Too idealistic…

Her only pride was her powers, and she was forced her to keep quiet about them. She had to hide them away.

But it was all for a purpose?

"But…father…how do I stop them?"

The smile that curled his lips now was hollow. It was decisive, heartbroken, and final.

His oozing eyes looked forward into the ongoing Dream World, but what he saw was the end.

"In the Dreamer Chamber…they've almost completed their experiments using my powers. They've almost taken what they need, but they rely on me," he uttered. "Zayza… I need you to kill me."

“NO!”

“It’s the only way to sabotage their mission,” he asserted. “And…frankly…I can’t do this any longer. Neither of us can.”

“I—I’ll find a way to free your minds!”

The King shook his head. “There’s no undoing this decay. It’s something mysterious they took time to develop, specifically to influence us. I can feel it in my head—trying to reverse this would likely kill us, anyway. The pain is unending, Zayza. And your mother—she’s merely an empty shell now. Her mind has no Dream World to hide in. She’s just a vessel serving their will, in silent torment, and she’ll never be able to tell anyone. This is no way to live, my love. We’re in Hell.

“No…”

“But you can set us free.”

“Father…I can’t…”

“It’s not just for the good of Azvaylen, Zayza. I’m begging you…bring us relief. I’ve prayed for nothing more than this every conscious moment in the Dream World. And now, my brilliant, powerful daughter has come as an answer. Please, Zayza. For me, and for your mother.”

Zayza couldn’t verbalize protest anymore. It only came out as sobs, soaking into her hair and clothes.

“And then…please…protect Vayva. Win her back,” her father said. “With me gone, she’ll become Queen. So they’ll come for her powers instead. They’ll try to control her mind, and she’ll meet the same fate. Tell her what I revealed to you. Together, you can end this: with your powers, you can defend the Dream World. And with Azvaylen under Vayva and Fewpar’s rule, you can work together to reclaim our—”

He tensed and writhed, screaming once more. Zayza had never felt so helpless. She could only kneel there before him and watch his despair rage on.

“Don’t…don’t say these things, Father…I can’t do it…” she whimpered. “I can’t…I can’t…I can’t…”

Her sobs deepened.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

~~~

“…I sat there for probably hours,” Zayza said, “watching him scream.”

The dungeon hadn’t been this silent the entire time Lammy had been trapped in it—even before the magic connected him to Zayza and Raznizu.

“Daddy…Mommy…”

It was Layla’s voice. Lammy couldn’t bring himself to see her face. He could hear it all in her words.

“The anguish never let up. At some point, I gave in to his pleas. I…used the Dreamer Death Ritual,” Zayza uttered, her gaze distant and haunted. She still spoke out loud, ignoring their current telepathic capabilities. “And Oflenur kept a Huksdür poison on him at all times. If anyone found him with me, he’d planned to use it on himself to escape execution.”

Secret lover, Lammy recalled from Kotono’s explanation. They were from enemy nations.

“It’s made to be painless. So I…I used that poison on Mother, and she finally stopped crying. She passed in her sleep.” Zayza paused, her whole body shaking. “My heart is tainted, Layla. I…I killed our own…”

“You did your duty,” Layla whispered. She wiped her face, and did her best to sit tall. “This isn’t over yet, Zayza. We can avenge them, as well as Vayva. We can defeat Proscious and make them proud.”

Lammy could feel the force of her resolve. It pulled at him, fishing out inspiration. He needed to keep fighting. He wanted to follow her lead.

Truly, she was meant to be a Queen.

“Did you learn anything else?” she asked. “About their experiments?”

Zayza clenched her fists, and then nodded. “I was foolish: I knew Vayva wouldn’t believe me, so I thought Oflenur and I could sabotage the experiments before they would realize what happened and come for her,” she shared. “We headed for the Dreamer Chamber…and we saw those experiments for ourselves.”