Albert walked among the endless expanse of plains and trees with the certainty of someone who’d done this hundreds of times, so Alice didn’t even stop to wonder if he actually knew where he was going. He kept changing directions seemingly at random: one moment they’d turn left, then the next he would do a one-eighty and run the other way.

At some point he picked up a stick, tossed it in the air, watched it go for a few seconds, then stuck his pointer finger in his mouth, tested for a nonexistent wind, and went right.

It was after they walked for what was probably an hour that she began getting worried.

Even more so when, after finally managing to walk through a patch of trees, they found themselves in a very familiar looking clearing.

-Weren’t we here just a half hour ago?-

-A half hour? Nah, that was just three minutes ago. Time is a construct.-

-...-

She didn’t even stop to ask. At this point, this was one of the few things he’d said that made any kind of sense. Yes, that was a very low bar to set. Makes you understand just how strange the situation is.

-I can literally see the question in your mind.- he pointed at her.

She looked up, expecting to see a Windows box like that first time. Instead, all she saw was a clock, its hands moving around wildly.

-Girl, you’re extremely good at adapting to the Land, but you’ve got to learn to keep your mind under better control, or else even a Level 10 [Dreamer] will be able to read you like an open book.-

He was now holding a book in one hand, open on an image of Alice looking at him holding a book with an image of Alice looking at him holding a book with an image of Alice looking at him holding a book with an image of Ali…

She looked away, her brain scrambling as it tried to understand what in the actual fuck had just happened.

-That was a paradox, by the way. Probably one of the strongest weapons you can learn to make in the Dream. Also one of the most complex, but if you’ll ever end up in a fight with anything other than a Nightmare you’ll find them.-

-That felt so violating…-

-As if someone was forcing the images one after the other inside your very brain, burning them in like a [Farmer] burns a cow’s number on its side? Yeah, that’s more or less the desired effect. Paradoxes aren’t meant to be seen by humans. We are too bound to the real world, with its stable laws and dynamics. Not free enough, not inexistent enough. Our brains unmake themselves to try and grasp a fraction of the infinity of most paradoxes. That’s why it’s one of the most powerful weapons around here.-

-Can it kill me?-

-Nothing can kill in the Land of Dreams. You’ll just wake up with the worst headache of your life.-

Alice nodded, then chanced a look towards Albert and, seeing how he was no longer holding the book, turned towards him.

-”One of the strongest”, you said. Does that mean there’s something even worse?-

At that, Albert stopped, then sighed and nodded.

-You’re too bright, Garda. Was hoping you wouldn’t notice that part. Yes, there’s something stronger, but us humans, or any other species for the matter, cannot harness it. Mirrors.-

He stopped walking and, while standing at the center of the clearing, turned towards her.

-Third Rule of the Dream: Never Look Into Mirrors. They’re cruel and spiteful things. They will look into you and show you your worst, the monster that’s really hidden under your skin, under every mask and belief. They will mesmerize you, lock you where you are, and then change you, reshape you as what they see in you, what is shown in that reflection, cutting away what they believe is unnecessary with shards of themselves and leaving behind nothing more than the monster they saw.-

His tone was at the most serious she’d ever heard him talk with: -Nothing of the Dream is permanent. Any change, any wound, any trauma, anything you can imagine, it will all disappear when you wake up. But not what is changed by mirrors. You will wake up, and the person who walks outside from that will be the monster wearing the old human’s skin. There is no destiny worse than that. That’s why, again, DO NOT Look Into Mirrors.-

Alice shivered. It really wasn’t all roses and games here. Heh.

Still, she chanced a question: -But what if someone is genuinely just a good person? Even without the masks they hide behind?-

At that, Albert chuckled. Then began to outright laugh. And then he suddenly stopped.

-Then you run, dear. Because they’re the most dangerous. You make me smile, Garda, because you believe that good things cannot be corrupted, turned and twisted into something bad.-

He walked closer to her, the snout of his mask nearly touching her own: -Try to imagine it. A good man wants to help people. He will do anything in his power to do so, but he will know that there’s a limit, that there are those he cannot help. A good man will stop. But let him look into a Mirror, and the thing will remove the one thing that stops the man from doing all the good he desires. His morals. And now you have someone who will do anything to help. Even if it means killing and hurting others. He will become judge, jury and executioner in a tribunal where only his beliefs of what is good is taken into consideration. That’s what happens when a good man looks into a Mirror.

-I hope you’ll never have to see something like that. Because stopping them is difficult, not just because there will be those that support him in what he’s doing, but because you will know that, originally, there was good there.-

He sighed, and the fur on his face appeared to be grayer, his clothes no longer as pristine.

Then he shook his head, and all was back to normal.

-Nothing is ever truly perfect Garda. The fact that the Game reaches even the Dream should be proof enough.-

She couldn’t resist. She had to ask: -What is this Game?-

Albert looked at her and raised a white and orange eyebrow, then shrugged.

-Ever heard about politics being called the game of thrones? That’s more or less how it started. Thousands of years ago, some began the game as an attempt to unify the world under the same flag… without shedding a single drop of blood. A game of spies and information, where scandals and causing revolutions were the weapons instead of swords and bows and spells. But then, the first Player died. Some say old age, others say he was killed. What matters is, things went sideways after that. And now the Game is just an enormous group of power hungry imbeciles who take and give power to people in their own twisted version of what was once a dream of peace.-

Alice gaped, and her mind squealed because this was probably the best conspiracy theory she’d ever heard, even more so because it wasn’t just a theory, it was all real! The fantasy book addict in her drank all this information in and was overjoyed.

Then she had a doubt.

-But what power is there in the Land of Dreams? You said it yourself: nothing is permanent here.-

Albert nodded.

-Indeed, but a long time ago someone had the bright idea of trying to alter people’s dreams to make them accept an idea instead of another. That someone failed, but only by half. Now there’s hundreds of Players around here trying to perfect the process and, all the while, fighting their own wars around here.-

-But can someone actually influence your thoughts and ideas through your dreams?-

-Absolutely not!- he laughed.

-Or rather, one can in the same way someone can make you do something by badgering you to do it. But that has a limit. Would you cut your own throat if I kept telling you to do it? I hope not! Because if you do then we have a way bigger problem than these disquisitions! Anyways, same applies to dreams. Everyone knows dreams are just dreams, so they won’t really give it much thought.-

-No thank you, I like my throat as it is. And I understand.-

-Good.-

And he put away a knife as long as his hand she hadn’t seen him take out, putting it somewhere in his smock.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

-Now, let me ask you a question: how do you feel about children?-

----------------------------------------

The ground under their feet trembled for a moment, then began to descend. Albert stared at Alice, expecting her to stumble around and curse, or react in any kind of way. Instead she just stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

-I was expecting a better reaction.-

-And you’re cliché. It was so obvious it was nearly painful.-

Albert put a hand over his heart dramatically: -You hurt my poor old heart Garda.-

-Yeah yeah. And what was that about children? Were you hitting on me?-

Albert laughed: -Oh no, I’m sorry dear, but you’re way too old for my tastes!-

Alice made an indignant sound: -I’m twenty three!-

-Still too old!-

She punched him on the shoulder, hissing like an angry snake, and he let her hit him.

-Ow! Oh no, kids, she’d hurting me! Protect your papa!-

What?

She looked at him in utter confusion. Then looked around for the first. They were in a cave filled with oil lamps illuminating the place like hundreds of little stars. The floors were made of wood, but they looked twisted, gnarled, as if someone had taken the roots of dozens of trees and put them together to make it.

Beds and tables and games were placed everywhere and in quite hazardous positions. Like that bed hanging from four ropes from the ceiling, or the one that was partially underground.

And there were a lot of kids. All of them wearing fox masks.

And it was in that moment that Alice knew, she’d fucked up.

The children jumped towards them, more agile than should humanly be possible, screaming and laughing and shrieking. The first one to reach her tackled her to the ground, or rather, tried to. She was a little girl from the night gown she was wearing, and didn’t weigh a lot. So, instead of being tackled to the ground, Alice got herself the most violent hug in the world. But that was fixed soon after, when another two kids reached her and made her actually fall to the ground.

Then the world was kids and whiskers and fur somewhere on her arm.

Someone took her left shoe off.

And started tickling.

Now, one thing about Alice: she was extremely sensitive. She hated being tickled, because she was ticklish basically everywhere on her body. A lot.

She began laughing and trashing around: -NO! PLEASE! HAHA- STOP! ANY-HAHAHAHA-ANYTHING BUT THAT!!-

But the little monsters were merciless, and once they found out about her great weakness, they didn’t stop. All the while, they giggled like crazy little minxes, while Albert laughed his ass off in the background.

After an entire minute of this torture, when she feared she should’ve pissed herself from how much she was laughing, the Fox Man finally told the kids to stop. And, luckily, they did, immediately. She stared up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down her racing heart. Then Albert’s face appeared in her line of sight, and she got the sudden instinct to spit in his eye. Sadly, she knew about her legendary aim, which could be beat by a blind weasel (because she liked weasels).

-You bamboozled and betrayed my trust, and I don’t think I’ll ever manage to forgive you.-

-I have not the slightest idea what bamboozled means, but I get the general idea. Come on, stand up, I’ll let you meet them properly.-

She did stand up. Two minutes later.

But when she did, she was greeted by a total of seven kids looking right at her through their masks. Some of them, the youngest, were still giggling amongst them, while two of them, a boy and a girl who looked no older than ten, had the decency of showing a bit of embarrassment.

-Kits, attention!-

Immediately, they stood at attention, the giggling disappearing.

Then Albert laughed: -Ok, that’s enough discipline for today. But do present yourselves to my newest recruit.-

The kids immediately relaxed, then began presenting themselves.

The first one was the girl who had first tried to tackle her, instead managing to give her the most aggressive hug of her life. She looked to be around six years old at most, her dirty blonde hair held together in pigtails. Her night gown was light green and decorated with little birds which name she didn’t know drinking nectar from big bluebells.

-My name is Green Bird, but you can call me Green.-

She smiled and even curtsied. An awkward movement to her. Clearly, she wasn’t royalty.

Then a boy, barely six years old if she had to guess, wearing an orange pajama that looked extremely comfortable presented himself. His hair was a light orange too and, for some reason, Alice was certain that his eyes, too, were of that color. How, she didn’t know for sure: it was like that certainty of dreams.

-My name is Starlight.-

Was all he said before he turned towards Green and began talking about something.

One by one, the kids all presented themselves.

-I’m called Sailor!- shouted the third. He was wearing a typical pirate’s clothes, but much more comfortable.

-The name’s Wax.- she was probably eight if she had to guess. She wore a simple white dress that reached just under her knees.

-You can call me… Dolly.- whispered the fifth. Of them all, she looked the youngest.

Then came the turn of the oldest children. The boy was first. He was wearing a sort of padded armor made of leather and what looked suspiciously like cushions, a wooden short sword at his side.

-I’m Knight!-

“Guess I found out what he wants to be when he frows up.” she thought.

Then came the girl’s turn. She was wearing a strange outfit that reminded Alice a lot of what explorers used to wear during the explorations of Africa. She even had a little compass attached to her belt.

-Call me Dancer.-

Aaaand the name didn’t fit her choice of outfit at all. Or maybe it did. Who said that one cannot be a dancing explorer, huh?

Alice nodded at all the kids, and bowed a little: -My name is A…-

A stick bonked her in the head.

-First Rule!- said Albert.

-Jeez, I know, sorry!- she stared daggers at him as she massaged her head -Not like anyone here will try to steal my body.-

-No, but you’ve got to learn. You make a mistake here, among friends, and nothing will happen, other than you getting bonked, but you do it outside and that’s where we cannot help you.-

-How would they even know that the name I tell them is my own? They don’t know me.-

-Yes, but the Dream will. And those that are High Level enough will see that. Now, start anew.-

Alice sighed, but nodded, and turned back towards the kids: -Again. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my name is Garda.-

Immediately, Wax raised her hand as if she was a student in class. She pointed at her: -Yes?-

-What’s your specialty?,- she asked -You’re an adult. You must have one!-

She opened her mouth to answer automatically, then realized she didn’t know what the girl was talking about. So she closed her mouth.

Luckily, Albert was there to save her, if not her dignity.

-She’s new to the Dream kits. This is her first night as a [Dreamer]. She doesn’t yet have a speciality.-

This time Green raised her hand, and was motioned by Albert to talk.

-Does that mean she never slept until now?-

The answer to that question was uncomfortably close to a yes.

-More or less,- she answered -I’ve suffered from insomnia for a long time. All the remedies I tried never worked too well. Until I…-

-…tried a Greater Potion of Sleep!- finished her sentence Green, Mariner and Dancer in chorus, before they erupted into giggles, high fiving each other.

Alice looked at Albert, and he nodded: -That’s how most of us end up in the Dream. We suffer from Sleep Disease, which I believe you called Insomnia, and use that potion to fall asleep. Those things work too well. One moment you’re awake, the next you’re asleep but your brain doesn’t realize it should be sleeping. At least, that’s how it worked for me and those kits. Others, like Wax, are naturals.-

She’d already heard that explanation, but realized Albert was probably showing off to the kids, so she just nodded along. Then asked the question that had been nagging her for the last minute.

-What’s a specialty?-

-It’s just one’s favorite way to interact with the Land. You either shape it with your will, or change it with parts of It. Dancer and Knight are very good at the first former, the other kits instead use what the Land gives us. Basically, it’s all about applying what you like doing most in the waking world here. So, tell me, what is it that you like doing a lot out there?-

And at that, Alice stopped to think. She liked doing a lot of things: watching the television, reading books and comics (especially comics), trying and failing miserably to draw anything other than plants.

But, truth be told, all those things weren’t really passions as much as ways to pass the time, and now they were all gone. Leaving her with only one thing left to do, her actual passion: gardening. Planting and raising plants, nurturing them, harvesting the parts she could use the most. It gave her many satisfactions.

Also, there was her slightly strange, as other people usually said, passion for poisons and anything related to them. But she liked it. The idea of being able to create something poisonous, something that could end someone’s life, and at the same time, in the right doses, even help, save a life. The idea of having someone’s life at your mercy, well, it excited her. It made her smile.

But those were only her fantasies. Ways to pass the time, to make her mood better whenever things started to go sideways. She’d lost count of how many times she desired to poison her advanced chemistry teacher, knowing full well it would be useless because no matter what poison she created, humanity had too much experience in toxicology and there would be an antidote ready in less time it would take for the damn man to die.

Well, unless she used cyanide. But that would be anticlimactic.

…

Now she understood why she and her slightly pyromaniac friend were so close.

-I like plants. Gardening. It’s my passion.-

Albert nodded.

And Dolly spoke for the second time that evening: -You smell of alchemy. Your eyes are white and green from working.-

-What?- she asked, causing the other kids to laugh.

Albert nodded.

-You’ve noticed. Very well Dolly.-

-How did she do that?-

-It’s her Class: [Dream Observer]. She can see what other people don’t, notice details that aren’t there but exist in the Dream’s Dream. If she ever manages to get a Skill that lets her bring a piece of the Land in the Waking World, she’ll make a wonderful [Spy] or [Rogue].

-But let’s talk about you now. You said your interest, your greatest passion, is gardening. Raising and caring for plants, using them to your advantage. It has some interesting applications, that’s for sure.-

-Such as?-

-Can’t say! If I do, I’ll influence you, and then it won’t be your dream Class, but mine. You’ll have to discover what you can do yourself. It’ll also help you Level.-

He looked around, then clapped his hands.

-Today, kids, we’re having fun. Tomorrow, we’re going out to hunt. Green Bird, Dolly, Starlight, Sailor and Wax, you will come with me to find an adult’s nightmare, while you two, Dancer and Knight, will find and kill a child’s nightmare afterwards. Now, dismissed!-

And they were off.

All, except for Wax, who stayed there, staring curiously at Alice.

Who stared right back, because if someone was rude to you, you had the right to be rude as well.

-Yes?-

Wax kept staring, as if trying to repeat Dolly’s trick, then nodded and extended a hand towards Alice.

-For you. To start.-

She opened her hand, and inside was a single, small, seed. It was pale, nearly white, and for a single moment, when she held it in her own hand, she felt it pulse. Then the warmth was gone and it was just a normal seed.

-Wha…-

-Welcome to the Dream, Garda.-

She turned around and left to play with the other kids.