“It is as though you are some horrible cancer patient,” Elina said loudly, the newspaper in her hands flapping. “Or an explorer that trekked through some cursed land.”

  “Thanks,” I replied blandly, but Elina paid me no attention.

  From the moment the non-Dreamer students returned from the Island of Refill, Elina had been glaring at Brax Brickwell and his group of obedient followers. While I was not begging for empathy regarding the wounds the Lady Licilent Cheshire had given me it still would have been nice for some consolation.

  Elina already did not have the best opinion of Brax’s group, but it turns out during the trip both Tellrone and Scutch opened their Dreamscapes. It was worrying, now that they too were Dreamers would they return to their harassment?

  However that was not the reason her vitriol for their group returned.

  “Then putting you in the same level as these cultist freaks,” she said, slapping the offending newspaper onto the table. “Though I would take that any day over- Having someone tackle you out of your Dreamscape!”

  Brax slammed his fist onto the desk, billowing red Intent wafting off of his body.

  “You stole our kill!” Brax said glaring at her.

  His eyes flicked to mine briefly but he just as quickly looked away.

  “I didn’t steal your kill. Killing the toad was the goal the professors assigned us. Not to mention I saved Scutch’s life.”

  “Professor Pure saved my life,” Chetti corrected, she too could not meet my eyes.

  Elina ignored her.

  “Then she goes and gives away my position.”

  Chetti rolled her eyes.

  “You were-”

  “It doesn't matter! In the end I opened my Dreamscape, but you knocked me out of it before I could craft anything!” Elina snarled, spearing her finger at Brax.

  I sighed, ignoring the argument that broke out between Elina and Brax and instead took the newspaper from in front of Elina, who of course didn’t notice nor care.

  She had been wronged for sure, but there was only so much complaining I could take.

  The front page showed a yellow image of a towering city, older Script Lord construction underneath newer utilitarian housing, all of it held up by a dozen thick metal limbs.

  THE LOST CITY

  While traveling back from their route beneath the Charred Continent toward our own Radiant Continent, The Wandering City failed to reach one of their normal checkpoints to resupply an outpost in the Steam Ring Range. Already a search party has formed between the Bronze Isles and the Sun State to locate the city, but has produced no results so far.

  The last time The Wandering City went silent was one hundred and three years ago when the Coal Emperor set his sights on the ancient Script Lord megastructure. Of course in the end the Coal Empire failed, but it did sour relations between The Wandering City and the Coal Empire.

  While there has been no evidence of foul play so far one must remember that the Charred Continent is rife with conflict at the moment, and a large victory could give a lot of credibility to the newly formed Brew Union.

  To see more on The Brew Union see page 3

  To see more on The Wandering City see page 5

  To see more on their past conflict see page 15

  I flipped the page, not wanting to see more anti-Empyrean propaganda. Unfortunately the page I was searching for only put me in a worse mood.

  Nineteen dead in gruesome cultist ritual!

  Just a quick train ride from Ringtown lies the small village of Onyxview. The quaint village is known for its pumpkin patches and onyx statue of Lord Philip Gneiss. In recent years however a surgance of Empyrean Nightmare worship has taken hold of the residents. While most of the citizens have stayed faithful to Alan, others were lured into the worship of local “spirits.” Such practices are of course not outlawed in our glorious state, but following such practices will inevitably lead to attention from the Deep One cults.

  Onyxview was just the most recent victim in a centuries long war against these parasitic practices. Particularly The Cult of the Iron Maiden. Luring in those with respect to purity and hardship they eventually corrupt their members into ritualistic practices of defilement and pain.

  If you do not wish to hear more of the gory details I suggest you read no further, for this ritual consisted of torturing and cutting up a pure maiden then feeding her to the intended victims of the rituals curse. These eighteen victims then went into a hysterical madness of self harm, using whatever means at their disposal to kill themselves in the most horrific way possible. For example two cut off their own hands, letting themselves bleed out in their homes, while three others drowned themselves in a tub, bucket and their own sink respectively. The others meanwhile were forced to put themselves through far crueler acts before they expired.

  There have been many rumors that these eighteen victims were in fact not upstanding citizens, and the ritual was meant to cleanse them of evil. However there has been no confirmation by the local authorities that these rumors held any credence.

  Zuvan Nightmare and Dreamer expert Timone Rackart had this to say on the matter.

  “People, especially those with the powers to protect themselves from danger, have always had a fascination with what lived in the Lower Layers. And why wouldn’t they? Nightmare’s hold no danger to them, it is the citizens that suffer when that which comes from the darkness infests our homes. It is time that we as a society stop trying to imitate the Empire’s expansionist ways and instead keep to the Layer that we know. Deep Ones and Nightmare worship have proven to lead to nothing but needless tragedies.”

  The villagers that have been confirmed to be members of the cult are looking at possible charges, including murder and acts of terrorism.

  Before becoming a Dreamer I never noticed the unsubtle barbs that the public would throw at us. Since I had however it became clear that it was very similar to the racism shown towards Empyreans. If something tragic or distressing happened, you found someone to relieve the blame upon. Just like how Brax took out his anger on his stolen artifact on me. The paper was telling the people to take out their anger on the Onyxview tragedy on Dreamers.

  But Dreamers did not kill those people, the cults did.

  My fingers crumbled up the paper.

  If there was one thing I could agree with the media on, it was the Deep One Cults. Twisted was the only way to describe them. They preyed on people's needs and fears, promising a better life, only to leave their victims as hollowed out broken shells.

  Professor Pure entered the room, carrying a stack of papers and giving the arguing duo of Elina and Brax a scolding glare.

  “Get to your seats.”

  Elina gave Brax a final hateful stare before sitting next to me once again. When she saw her crumpled newspaper she leveled some of the frustration in her eyes to me.

  “Really M? I haven't finished reading that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Buy me a new one.”

  “No.”

  “What! But you broke this one!”

  “You can’t break a newspaper.”

  Elina, in defiance of my words, ripped the newspaper in half.

  I could muster no response to that, and thankfully Professor Pure stopped me from having to.

  “Welcome back to classes everyone. For those of you who went to the Forest of Living Dreams I hope you were able to understand more about your Dream, as there is no reason to be a Dreamer otherwise. For those who joined me on the island of Refill and opened your Dreamscapes I congratulate you. Lastly, for those who have not yet opened their Dreamscapes all I can say is that effort is the only remedy to failure.”

  Placing his stack of papers onto the podium Professor Pure gestured to them.

  “Today all of you will fill out these surveys about your respective trips and experiences.”

  A collective, societal groan, sounded out from the class, and the professor waved his hand dismissively.

  “Yes, I know it may be a hassle but these will be used to narrow down your personal needs as students as well as further improvements for next year’s class. This could be the difference between opening your Dreamscape and failing this academy at the end of the year.”

  That silenced the protests and the professor began passing out the papers. Once he got to me he did not hand me the paper instead giving me a long look before speaking.

  “Monty, you will join me outside instead.”

  Every eye turned to me, and though no one spoke, I knew the moment we left they would come. Professor Pure said no more, continuing to hand out papers, so I stood and waited at the door for him.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  My eyes flicked up to the room of seated students to find almost every one glance away as I did so. The only ones who did not were Cystella and Elina, who mouthed “is everything okay?” to me.

  I nodded, though it was an obvious fib. If everything was okay I would not need to be called out would I?

  The professor motioned me to follow him, leading me out of the building and toward the forest.

  A thrill of adrenaline shot through me and the forest seemed darker than normal. There was a promise there. Of danger and death. The canopy may keep me safe from the harsh rays of the late spring sun, but it kept with it secrets of the night.

  Was I about to die?

  The thought seemed random, but felt real, why?

  My hand grasped for the face of my watch, the familiar thrum of moving machinery steadying my breath and thoughts.

  Because of the rumors. The Forged Order Champions and Packers told their leaders, which told my professors, as well as the Cheshire’s. Now they all thought I was a member of some Deep One Cult and was going to kill me where no one would look for me.

  “Come on, the trail doesn’t start until a few meters in,” Professor Pure said.

  “O-okay,” I said with hesitance.

  Professor Pure gave me a look before stepping over some underbrush and ducking low lying branches.

  I took a deep breath, debating running back to the school building. Then I remembered how fast Ravik Reverest and Cystella moved when they used Intent. Professor Pure would no doubt be stronger and faster than both of them.

  Fleeing anywhere else was also out of the question. At least on school grounds other students would be witnesses, but if I tried to leave out of the front gate then there was plenty of empty road for me to go missing on.

  “Mister Gao! The vines won’t attack you!” Professor Pure snapped from the shadow of green and brown.

  I wondered if I imagined the derision in his tone.

  I moved my hand from the watch to the large lumps with small mole sized scabs on their tops. My nail dug under it the dried blood, the hard but thin material pressing on the sensitive skin underneath my nail.

  “Mister Gao!”

  “Coming Professor!”

  What else could I do?

  It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the shaded area and when it did I saw- glowing green devils eyes.

  I jumped back, my foot catching on the thick underbrush and sending me rear first into a bush. Not sparing a thought for my soon to be bruised backside I instead refocused on the spot where the eyes had appeared from only to be met with a rather dark spot of shadow framed by dense foliage.

  Professor Pure stepped toward me and held out an assisting hand. I took it and he easily brought me to my feet.

  “My apologies, I forgot how playful the forest could be to strangers. Come along, it will take us some time to reach our destination.”

  I followed the professor, my earlier worry at a sudden and violent death abated somewhat. Surely someone that planned to off someone would not treat them in a gentlemanly way.

  As Professor Pure promised earlier a well trodden path appeared a few meters into the forest, it was not wide or smooth enough for the two of us to walk abreast so I made do with staring at the back of his head.

  “I always take a different way to the path so students cannot see it from outside the forest,” Professor Pure explained, stepping easily down a rocky decline. “Some roads are not meant to be traveled.”

  With less nimbleness than Professor Pure, but not so little as to embarrass myself further I followed down the decline. I did grow up in a rural mountain village after all.

  We walked in silence for several minutes, my worry at being taken out back to be shot like a old dog grew with each step. I tried to distance my thoughts by looking at the scenery, however I saw phantom green eyes and sinuous dark bodies playing at the edge of my vision wherever my head turned.

  “From the reports I read your trip to the Forest of Living Dreams was quite eventful.’

  “Yes Professor.”

  “I do hope that the core objective was still met. Learning what your Dream is?” he said with a question at the end.

  “... Yes Professor,” I replied carefully.

  “Hmm, well, what is it?”

  “Is that not improper?”

  Professor Pure shrugged, giving me his usual businesslike disinterested look.

  “I won’t be the last to ask. It's better to have an answer ready than to squirm about. It makes non-Dreamers uncomfortable when we hide it.”

  “I was under the impression that most normal people were ignorant of the matters of Dreamers.”

  “They are, though of course many are in the know. But saying your Dream is to be a politician and telling them you have the power to control the masses are two different things.”

  “Then forgive me if I misunderstood your point, but what is your Dream?”

  Professor Pure ducked under a low hanging branch and glanced back to give me a smirk.

  “There you go. My Dream, at least what I tell people when they ask, is to live in harmony with nature.”

  “What you tell people when they ask?”

  “Indeed. Not everyone has a Dream that can be easily put into a handful of words. Some, such as Professor Rider's, are that simple. For myself living in harmony with nature not only is a good description, but also something easily acceptable to others. Now yours Mister Gao.”

  I thought about it for a few moments as we walked.

  “I confess, I do not think mine is so easily put into words. At least no string of them that I can think of at the moment.”

  I knew what my Dream was, it was a feeling in my heart. The feeling of seeing something fascinating, of completing an ambitious project.

  “Well if I were you I would think of something that is at least an acceptable parallel to the truth, and soon. Every word has as many definitions as there are people alive. But so long as you can convince them your Dream will not only be harmless to them, but also a benefit to society, then they can learn to accept it.”

  That seemed anarchical to me, as if everything was teetering on the edge of falling apart because of some misunderstanding.

  “What are your thoughts on my as you say, manifestation in the Forest of Living Dreams.”

  “Hmm, I would say it was rather unfortunate that the Bronze Islander decided to head toward you rather than in any other direction. Had he done so then your group’s experience would have only been of minor interest in comparison to the other events.”

  The placid sounds of the forest filled the silence for a few more minutes. By now we were deep into the woods, but thankfully the fear of my death was gone.

  “Speaking of your run in, Cystella mentioned your conversation afterwords. We are going to wait a bit longer before you begin Crafting Rooms.”

  “Why?”

  I had already begun planning what I would test with Rooms. I might not know what kind of ability I wanted, but I was far more interested in learning more of how my Dreamscape functioned anyhow.

  The idea of holding myself back just as I got the answers for the next step was agonizing. I was ready, I knew I was.

  “Its dangerous. Especially with a Dream like yours. I don’t want you to turn yourself into some monster accidently.”

  “What do you think my Dream is, Professor?” I asked.

  I felt as though there was no point in arguing against his order. Other people always thought they knew what was best for others.

  “The only thing I can say with almost full certainty is that you are an Artisanal Dreamer.”

  “An Artisanal Dreamer?”

  “Precisely. In the Headmistresses opening speech to your class she mentioned that there were many ways that your Dreams could benefit society. We like to separate those Dreams into three categories, though it will never be as perfect as to fully define your Dream and many find themselves evenly distributed between two or three categories. Martial Dreamers are self explanatory. Their Dreams rely on personal power, often in the forms of combat, to achieve. During the war there was a larger percentage of Martial Dreamers than the other two, but that number has dwindled in these peaceful times. Next are Social Dreamers. These are Dreamers whose Dream rely on personal relations to achieve. Politicians, merchants, therapists. One of the Sun States most notorious Dreamers, The Lord, is a Social Dreamer. And, inevitably, there are Artisanal Dreamers. Those whose Dream rely on the creation of products or goods to achieve. The ones who gave you those grotesque welts for example have traditionally been Artisanal Dreamers. Can you guess what category I land in Mister Gao?”

  “Martial? On the first day of class you showed us that you can produce both lightning and fire.”

  Professor Pure nodded, then quickly showed the insincerity of the gesture by rejecting my idea.

  “No, I am a Social Dreamer. Remember my Dream is to live in harmony with nature, not to conquer it. In order to live in harmony with nature I must be able to communicate with it.”

  “But, that does not require you to seek relations with people.”

  “Generally no, though when humanity encroaches on nature then I am often thrust in the middle of the two. But it is not humans I socialize with, but animals and Nightmares. Okay, we are almost to our destination.”

  I realized that the Professor did not really answer my question on what my Dream was, but I was not so rude as to point him out on it. Instead I peered as far as the dense trees would allow and caught the boxy shape of a large building behind layers of tree cover.

  “I believe that teachers should put in the effort to learn as much of their students as they can. Otherwise they cannot truly say they are teaching their charges to the best of their ability,” the professor said as we stepped into a large cleared out area.

  In front of us was a huge barn that should have been far too impractical to build in the middle of the forest with no suitable trail to transport and prepare materials.

  A few steps ahead of me Professor Pure stared at the structure for several before turning fully around, the look on his face absolute in its sincerity.

  “Monty Gao, despite what recent rumors may say, I do not believe you are a cruel boy. However, a lack of cruelty does not equate to a lack of danger. Do you believe you can become dangerous?”

  The truth was all I could say to that.

  “Yes.”

  Professor Pure nodded.

  “Good, that means you are also neither a fool nor a liar. As I told you only minutes ago, my Dream is to live in harmony with nature. One can hardly do that if you live away from nature. Large sections of this forest have been given to the school for the sole reason of harboring Nightmares that I am on good terms with. They in turn act as a natural defence against Nightmares that may come from The Heights or Pillars that are close by. The barn behind me acts as a neutral territory for the Nightmares, so that they can interact with me and one another without the typical animal kingdom disputes.”

  The professor's words reminded me of the glowing green eyes and slinking shadows, and I scanned the barn and surrounding area for any sign of what had to be one of the professor's Nightmares, however there was none. Actually, it was absurdly silent.

  “My reason for bringing you here is that I believe I can do some focused work with you, something normally saved for your second year. Your Dream, whatever it may be, undoubtedly involves the exploration of living things. As someone with many fascinating Nightmare companions as well as contacts within the city I can kickstart your journey.”

  I doubted his kickstart would involve me dissecting his companions, but then again even just being able to examine a living Nightmare up close without having to fear bodily harm would be amazing.

  “How so Professor?”

  “My companions sometimes get into spats with one another, or as I said earlier, with foreign Nightmares. Sometimes those injuries can be serious enough that they need help, I am the only one that can do so. You will assist me when then. There is also something else I can do to help you, something that if you agree, you must not share with your classmates as it may start even more uncomfortable rumors.”

  “Well then I agree.”

  Professor Pure showed his surprise openly before smiling proudly.

  “So quick, are you sure?”

  “You told me when I first opened my Dreamscape that pursuing one's Dream is not an easy thing to do. If that is the case then I cannot make it harder on myself unnecessarily.”

  “Smart, though not entirely accurate, just because the choice you make will help you pursue your Dream, it may not make it easier, just faster.”

  “What is this “something else?”

  “You will see in a moment. Before that I need to introduce you to a friend. She’s been playing around with you since you entered as I am sure you noticed.”

  Knowing what was coming next I scanned the shadows of trees and bushes, anticipating the appearance of a fascinating creature.

  So I was very surprised when a pantherlike Nightmare prowled out from behind Professor Pure. Which was impossible. For one, it was just as tall and wide as the professor himself, and two, it walked out perpendicular to the professor, however its long body, back legs, and tail were not visible until it fully walked out from behind Pure. As though the professor were a large building rather than a normal man.

  “Mister Gao, say hello to Bliss.”

  Hi, if you want to read more chapters in advance, here is a link to my Patreon.

  https://www.patreon.com/csdemers

  If not, I hope that your food is delicious and you sleep restful