~~~
(Months before…)
“This can’t be happening…”
Oflenur’s utterances behind Zayza wouldn’t stop as they weaved through the dim castle hallways. While his low, tender voice usually brought comfort, right now it simply raised their risk of capture.
“Zayza…please say something, my love…”
She wanted to. But it was unsafe.
No—she knew that wasn’t why. She felt sick.
If she tried speaking now, the pained sobs would only continue. It would make her actions feel real again, and right now, it was simply too horrifying to feel real.
Everything hurt so much.
“Zayza, please…”
She sped her pace.
Oflenur seized her by the arm, both firmly and gently.
Finally, she stopped and turned to him. Even in utter turmoil, his brown eyes lured her attention. He gritted his teeth behind his trimmed black beard, struggling to remain strong.
“We have to get to the Dreamer Chamber,” Zayza insisted.
“Zayza, what are we even doing? You need to stop and grieve—you’re not okay,” he whispered insistently.
“I don’t have time.”
Oflenur sighed, looking around into the darkness as if it were closing in on them. “I thought we would never involve ourselves in these politics. I’m from Huksdür, Zayza. If they find out what we just did, they’ll see it as an act of war,” he stressed. “We were supposed to run away together. We were supposed to help your parents out of their troubles, and then start a new life: no Azvaylen, no Huksdür. Just us.”
“That was before Proscious forced me into no choice but to kill my own…” Zayza tried.
The sobs resurfaced. It was real again.
She felt Oflenur’s big arms wrap around her much lighter frame and pull her against him. His heartbeat boomed. His smell reminded her of their many nights of promises—their future together.
Oflenur weaved his hand through her hair. “You should have never had to make that choice,” he whispered directly into her ear. “You should go to Vayva and tell her what just happened.”
Zayza shoved against his chest, distancing herself from him. “No.”
“She needs to know. Perhaps she can stop them.”
“Do you really think she’d believe me?” Zayza fought. “If I tell her what I just did, she’d never believe why. She would have us killed immediately, and Proscious would win. She’s never trusted my decisions.”
Oflenur’s weakening gaze revealed her point was a strong one.
“This is how we save her,” Zayza said flatly. “I’m going to the Dream Chamber to try and stop the experiments myself, before they even have the chance to come for her.”
“You’ll take on all of Proscious?”
“Vayva might hate me—especially now—but she’s just misguided. She’s still my elder sister,” she stressed. “And the future of my family’s home—even the Multiverse—is at hand. So…are you coming or not?”
Her question didn’t come out quite as stern and challenging as she intended. Even now, she couldn’t overshadow the natural gentleness that set her apart from her family, especially while speaking to her love.
But nonetheless, she didn’t wait for him. Zayza released his arms and continuing her mission down the long hall.
She heard Oflenur curse to himself after a moment. Then, his footsteps followed.
~
Though their apprehension didn’t settle, Zayza and Oflenur never encountered a guard on their journey through the castle. They’d prepared for this night incidentally, memorizing each patrol position and pattern months ago so Oflenur could sneak to Zayza’s quarters undetected.
Tonight, it came into much more urgent use when they planned to reach the King and Queen’s bedroom and attempt to free their minds.
But they never predicted it would turn out like this.
Zayza clenched her chest as she snuck through an old backdoor into the evening air. It led to a hilly garden at the castle’s rear: a concealed shortcut towards the Dreamer Chamber at the bottom of the slopes.
Oflenur joined her, and they sifted through the elegantly trimmed bushes and tall pink flowers. This was the way Zayza used to take whenever she ran late for Dreamer Arts classes—which was quite often. And so, she had this makeshift trail memorized.
She recalled the scolding she received from her armored escorts for slipping away, then from her instructor for her tardiness, and then from her parents and Vayva for both. The sideways looks only worsened when she’d barely pass a trial, welcoming judgment from her peers.
Until today, Zayza never understood why her father demanded she hide her true ability and knowledge. If she gave it her all, she would have surpassed all of the students—and eventually her instructor.
Vayva was the only classmate who knew. She always despised the logic behind it—but since she couldn’t question the King, the judgment often fell on Zayza’s ears.
“You may be incredible, my sister…but Dreamer skills alone don’t run nations,” she’d often mutter.
“Then I suppose it’s good that I don’t want to rule,” was Zayza’s retort.
Yet tonight, Dreamer powers were perhaps the key to Azvaylen’s fate.
A shadowy silhouette of the Dreamer Chamber emerged from behind the foliage as Zayza and Oflenur neared their destination. While not nearly as towering as the castle, the building stood just as transcendent. It simply felt wrong to come to such a place on a disastrous night like this: the chamber’s symmetry, and its quiet isolation far away from all other activity in the kingdom, emanated order. It exuded peace.
But now the sheer chaos dominating Azvaylen had penetrated even its sacred gates.
Zayza stopped dead in her advance. Oflenur bumped into her from behind.
Through the pedals and stems in the remainder of the garden, Zayza made out motion before the circular stone wall that concealed the chamber from the wandering eyes of outsiders. A guard repositioned his stance, staring out into the surrounding area.
She leaned for a clearer view, and soon spotted another…and another. At all angles, guards stood in wait. There must have been dozens.
This many at this hour? Zayza thought—but it made sense quickly. Proscious, through their control of her father, likely ordered these guards to the chamber to help conceal their secrets.
“There’s no way we’re getting in there,” Oflenur muttered.
Zayza said nothing. She knew he was right.
Then, a rumble shook the ground. Zayza mistook it for thunder, until it grew in force and its source became clear.
“They’re in the Chamber right now,” Zayza realized. “Proscious is doing something in there.”
“All the more reason to cease this endeavor and go alert your sister,” Oflenur practically pleaded.
Zayza turned and brushed past his shoulder, heading further back uphill.
“You’re…actually heading my advice?” Oflenur checked.
“We can’t get in there…but there’s still a way to see in,” Zayza whispered back. “Follow me.”
She ignored his increased sighs and Huksdür swears as she relocated to their new target.
Zayza hurried across the hill using the shrubbery to mask herself, her eyes down towards the blacktrees. Naturally weed-like in growth and notoriously hard to chop down, a cluster of them stood unevenly at the very base of the garden and continued past the farthest wall of the Dreamer Chamber. Their roots fed from the shoreline just behind them: the beginning of the ocean separating Azvaylen from Huksdür.
One tree was particularly impossible to kill, despite a war the groundkeepers declared on it before Zayza was even born. Its height nearly matched the Dreamer Chamber roof, and its branches were strong.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“Don’t climb the tree, Zayza…” Oflenur insisted behind her. “You’re not very coordinated. We’ll get caught.”
“I’m climbing the tree.”
“Didn’t you tell me your biggest fear is falling to your death?”
“My classmates used to climb it to spy on others’ private assessments at the end of every year,” argued Zayza.
“Did you, though?”
By now, they’d reached the trunk without detection. Zayza opted not to answer, instead beginning her clumsy ascent. She knew she could scale it much more cleanly had they been in the Dream World right now, but out here, she had to move slow.
The branches didn’t bend in the slightest under her weight, or even under Oflenur’s as he joined.
Zayza stopped near the top of the tree, realizing if she went any further she may as well have announced her presence to the guards. She hugged the trunk from behind and didn’t look down.
Though at the same time, she couldn’t help but think: dying here like this couldn’t be worse than dying like her parents.
The vivid memory was burning into her mind faster than she could resist it.
Shaking her head, Zayza tried to focus on the present. From here, the ocean between Azvaylen and Huksdür had never looked so vast. If only their civilizations had begun as one, if only this natural divide wasn’t in place forcing their rivalry, perhaps Azvaylen would have never resorted to Proscious’s help. Perhaps this tragedy would have never come to life.
Fearfully, she turned her gaze back to the Dreamer Chamber.
Zayza had never seen the top of the outer wall like this, but had been told its meaning: the circular stone fence represented the infinite, constantly reincarnating space of the Dream World. Then, the gracefully smooth lines of light stone spiraling in and out of the chamber wall at the top symbolized Dreamers: their unique ability to enter, leave, and manipulate this secret, infinite realm.
Within it rested a much more familiar structure to her: the chamber itself. Made equally from pearly white and purple bricks, it was perfectly square and stood as a beacon of Azvaylen’s pride: its presence and beauty obvious to the non-Dreamer, but its true power concealed within.
Zayza recalled the words her father had shared about her purpose as she gazed at it. Her eyes fell to the Great Window: it was time to learn the truth.
The massive arched window overlooked the sea, barely higher than the outer wall. It was designed to welcome in the setting sun at the onset of dusk: the only time a new Dreamer could be initiated into the Arts, and the only time a master could be christened. Its green tint would recolor the entire chamber.
But tonight, well past midnight, only Zayza and Oflenur’s sight entered through it.
An artificial light, pale white and clearly not native to this reality, lit the inside of the building unceremoniously.
What was sacred to Azvaylen was little more than a lab to Proscious.
A square stage rose high above the floor, where Dreamers would traditionally meet to enter their realm and engage in Dreamer Combat Training. But tonight it was covered in thick black wires, with only one individual in the center.
Covered from head to toe in a dark, wavy cloak, and with blue-green hair hiding her face, a young woman lay shivering against the concrete and cords.
“It’s that girl, Aoi…” Zayza remembered in a hush.
“You know her?”
“She’s one of Proscious’ members. I don’t truly know her…we’ve never spoken,” Zayza said. “Or, rather…I’ve never heard her speak.”
Aoi continued to lie there, and through the bottom of the window Zayza spotted several people walking around in white coats. Some of them seemed to be configuring something, checking the wires and observing the square platform.
“What are they doing?” muttered Oflenur.
Zayza shuffled through her robe and quickly felt a small, rubbery cube. She almost hadn’t brought it with her tonight, but after it caught her eye on the desk near her bedroom door, she figured it might prove valuable. Now, she realized how correct she was.
She pulled out the dark cube and aimed carefully.
“A…a jelly cube? Alright, what are you doing?”
“We need to hear them,” Zayza said.
Giving her best throw without sacrificing her grip on the tree, Zayza watched the bouncy cube of jelly plummet towards the Chamber. She immediately regretted her lack of planning—Oflenur had a much better throw. But the cube made contact with the Chamber wall, just barely above the ground, and stuck to the white and black bricks silently. The guards didn’t stir.
Zayza’s eyes shot back to the Great Window, pleading to herself.
Then, the machine hums and conversations from within the Chamber filled her ears. It worked.
“Layla’s been playing around with enchantments lately. She made that for me,” Zayza explained. “I can hear everything in that room now. And it will dissolve later.”
“Layla? She’s been helping you spy on Proscious?”
“No. I’ve vented to her about my suspicions, but she’s only fourteen. I don’t think she grasps what’s truly happening,” said Zayza. “Besides, she’s much more like Vayva. She probably wouldn’t believe me if Vayva told her not to.”
“That said, it’s still quite odd that was her gift to you,” Oflenur noted. “It seems to me like she—”
“Wait,” Zayza whispered. While she always valued Oflenur’s knack for insight, now wasn’t the time: something was happening in the Chamber.
Zayza arched forward against the tree as much as possible, her eyes wide with curiosity as the Chamber’s sounds echoed in her mind.
“Transferal cables inspected. Status: secure.”
“Subject’s vitals are stable.”
“Intensity increased to ninety percent.”
“Whoa, whoa…Didn’t I say ninety-five? What’s up with that?”
The last voice was smooth—even beautiful. It was much louder than the others, and Zayza knew it wasn’t because of the enchantment.
The speaker stepped into view, appearing slowly from the top of the Great Window. Between his height, icy blue hair, and eyes somehow just as black as his clothes, he was unmistakable.
Wei, Proscious’s leader, walked towards the center platform, disregarding and even stepping on the countless thick wires.
“Well? Ninety-five percent, everyone,” he instructed, whirling a black-nailed finger around. “Come on, do your tech thing. You’re professionals, I believe in you.”
Only his footsteps sounded across the room for a moment.
“See? You’re making that face. You know, that face I always say you make when you’re uncomfortable but don’t want to show it. You’re doing that right now,” he told a worker outside of Zayza’s view.
“Wei…infusion at ninety-five percent for a type like this drastically raises chances of trauma—both bodily and mentally.”
“We’ve successfully done this kind of thing…how many times, now?” Wei countered.
Again, uncomfortable silence.
“What, am I being a bully? You guys can be honest with me. It’s not my intent to be a bully.”
“Well…” a different worker muttered. “The subject is too rare to risk losing.”
“‘The ‘subject’s’ name is Aoi, alright?” Wei snipped. “She has a name. She’s a real person with a body and a soul. That ‘subject’ jargon is downright demeaning, you got that?”
By now, he reached beginning of the platform. Wei stopped, staring unblinkingly at the still shivering Aoi on the hard, wiry ground.
“You guys aren’t really concerned, are you? Not about her, at least. You’re only concerned about our mission’s success,” he challenged. “You don’t care about Aoi at all. About how she feels. That never crosses your mind, does it? You never asked her how she feels about going to ninety-five percent instead of ninety, did you?”
In a single, one-legged jump, he lifted himself up onto the platform and stood above Aoi.
“Because I can tell you right now, I’ve asked her. Every time, with every type, I used to ask her,” Wei told them. “And I can tell you exactly why I’m fine with risking her life right now: it’s because she doesn’t care about it.”
He stepped closer to her.
“She doesn’t care about how we use her body,” he continued. “I used to give her every opportunity to speak up for herself. She never did. I used to try motivating her, try giving her a sense of purpose. I treated her with respect. It didn’t matter. She lets us do whatever we want. You’re all geniuses, but pardon me as I put this bluntly for you: she has no self-value.”
Aside from the shivers, Aoi remained still like an old doll left under the clutter of a child’s bedroom.
“So when you try to preserve her, you’re being selfish, not compassionate. And I get it: you want to succeed. This is the closest we’ve ever gotten to recreating the Element. This may be the one,” he said. “But I’m a real friend. Because I listened, and I understand her. Just as much as our Mission matters to me, what Aoi really wants matters to me, too. And that’s for her to be used, abused until there’s nothing left, discarded, and forgotten. Got it?”
His black eyes fell to Aoi, somehow filled with warmth. He gave a smile, and Zayza only detected love in it.
But while maintaining that very expression, he reached down and yanked Aoi to her feet. She crashed against him weakly and almost toppled back over, barely managing to catch her trembling balance.
“So I won’t say it again: set the infusion to ninety-five percent,” he ordered.
Zayza felt cold. She watched as Wei exited the platform, leaving Aoi standing unevenly.
The workers continued their status updates and preparations for several minutes—mostly using terms Zayza had never heard before, and couldn’t begin to understand. Then low, resounding hums filled the room and flickered the artificial lights.
All the while, Aoi didn’t move.
Though Zayza didn’t know this young woman well, she now felt an unquenchable urge to rush into the Chamber and embrace her in a hug.
The hums gradually increased, and their tone morphed.
They sounded like moans…
…Then cries…
…Then screams.
They were her father’s screams.
Thousands of them.
Zayza almost broke off the enchantment right then. This was too much.
But she couldn’t stop now.
The deathly shouts coursed through the black wires, which began lifting of the ground as if possessed. The ones closest to the platform rose in a perfect circle around Aoi, pointing towards her head.
Purple beams blast out of the cables at Aoi, igniting her body with energy. She shook violently, gritting her teeth—but still, she didn’t make a sound all the while.
It lasted almost a minute. The King’s ghostly screams faded along with the energy, and the wires fell limp. Aoi collapsed to her knees. All Zayza could hear was her shallow, labored panting. She looked so pale, and Zayza couldn’t remember if she always had.
“Well…?” Wei inquired from out of view.
“Synchronization complete and stable. The subject’s—I mean—Aoi’s body accepted it,” a worker revealed. “She’s now a Dreamer.”
“…What?” Zayza couldn’t help but utter.
“What happened?” wondered Oflenur.
“They turned her into a…”
“Wait…synchronization reversing. Compatibility failing.”
Zayza returned her attention to the Great Window.
“Infusion rejected. Operation unsuccessful.”
Aoi let out a weak, reluctant heave. A drip of blood fell from the corner of her mouth.
“Ah, come on. So close!” Wei exclaimed. “Alright, one-hundred percent infusion.”
“We…we would need to distill a pure source again to accomplish that,” said a scientist. “We’ve run out.”
“Looks like we’ll need to bring the King back tomorrow, then,” Wei decided. “He was in rough shape last time, though. So if it kills him, plan to restart the whole project with Princess Vayva as our source. High power thresholds tend to be genetic.”
Father was right…Zayza thought. She’s next.
But the now unsacred Chamber once again fell silent aside from ambient hums and low beeps. Zayza could feel the workers’ hesitation under her own skin.
“You guys are doing that again,” Wei grumbled. “And you over there: you’re making that face again.”
“But…as you know…s—setting the infusion to one-hundred percent could cause—” a worker tried.
“It’s better than what doing NOTHING would cause,” Wei retorted. He reappeared into Zayza’s view, pacing with a finger to his chin. “We are INCREDIBLY close. Gaining full access to the Dream World is crucial—once we’re in, the Dreamers will be ours to use. Our secrets will become untraceable. That’s VITAL to the Mission.”
He glanced at Aoi.
“We will reshape the Multiverse to our will. We’ll make it what it should have always been: separated…a place where the very concept of a consciousness can’t exist.”