After spending the evening talking business with Je’e and Ja’a, I finally made my way back to Nina’s workshop. My head buzzed with ideas; pizza franchises and spyglass production were only the start of what we could do… but my body begged for rest. Lucky for me, tonight’s plan included a lot of sleep. It was no longer about food or coin; it was about mastering my dreams.

  Nina had invited me to stay the night. Her bedroom wasn’t a bed so much as a room-sized nest: a layered sprawl of sheets, pillows, and soft stuffing piled into something halfway between a cloud and a giant beanbag. The moment I let myself sink into it, the fabric swallowed me whole. Nina stretched out beside me, her presence warm and reassuring. One of her wings draped across me like a blanket, the stone-grey feathers surprisingly soft, faintly perfumed with lavender.

  “You need to fall asleep and try to find your dreamscape on your own this time,” she murmured, her voice a soothing undertone in the dark. “Once you’re inside, I’ll jump in and guide.”

  I nodded, still awkward about the intimacy of sharing her nest. But it was necessary. To reach my dream sanctuary, a private world hidden inside the mind, I needed her help. I had only learned such a thing existed after visiting Nina’s own sanctuary, a place of vast skies and floating islands.

  Mine was a pale echo in comparison, a half-formed memory of my old college apartment, frozen in the same state I had left it before heading to Tunisia.

  Learning to access it alone, however, was another matter.

  Nina gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze with her wing. “Don’t overthink it, Alice. That’s your problem. You keep treating dreamer power like a puzzle to solve. It isn’t. It’s… a story. You enter through feeling, not calculation.”

  I snorted softly. “Easy for you to say. You’ve probably been lucid-dreaming since you were seven.”

  “Four,” she corrected with a grin, sharp white teeth glinting in the low lamplight. Her eyes, dark, almost storm-colored, held both mischief and patience. “And it wasn’t easy then either. The first time I found my dreamscape, I kept wandering off into the Great Dream and ending up in nightmares.”

  “…comforting.”

  She giggled, but her gaze stayed serious. “Focus on one memory, one thing that feels safe. Fall asleep holding that thought, and it should shape the door you walk through.”

  So I closed my eyes, breathing slowly, letting her warmth anchor me. I tried not to think about cults, freelancing, or business schemes. Instead, I pictured the simplest safe place I knew: my old university library on Earth. Modern wooden shelf filled with ancient books, comfortable office chairs, and faux wood tables.

  Nothing happened. I was still wide awake.

  Of course I was. How do you fall asleep while forcing yourself to picture a library? If I wanted to relax, I needed something else. I wriggled out from under Nina’s wing, rummaged through my bag of holding, and pulled out my phone. A few taps later, the soft haze of lo-fi beats filled the air. Study music, the kind I’d played during long evenings in that very library. I tucked myself back under her wing, closed my eyes, and let the mellow piano drift through me.

  Minutes later, sleep claimed me.

  You never know you are dreaming until you do. I don’t even remember when and how the dream started. At first, I was sitting in a familiar library, my library, watching an impossible conversation unfold.

  My Earth friend Mark was arguing with Vena. Mark, of all people. He is a tall man, with a Mediterranean complexion, his face lit with the passion he reserved for debates. A self-proclaimed pagan, worshiper of Hestia, goddess of the hearth, and one of the few friends I had back home who genuinely believed in magic.

  “The benefit of having a god attached to your religion is clear,” he said, leaning forward on the table. “It gives people something personal, something to connect to. An abstract flow of power doesn’t inspire loyalty the same way.”

  Vena stood opposite him, arms folded across her small frame, her expression stubborn. The modern LED lights highlighted her lime green eyes. “We have gods, too, in the Mythic Realm, but we, people of the Holy, have done away with that tyranny. A god may do good in general, but their personification humanizes them. Shana may be beneficial to almost all women, but her catty personality sometimes gets a pretty girl cursed with snake hair.”

  I blinked. Wait. That wasn’t Shana. That was Athena.

  And just like that, my dream snapped into focus. I realized I was dreaming, which made me lucid.

  I stood from the table, ignoring their continuing debate. My sanctuary usually looked like my college flat. Maybe if I walked there, I could reach it on my own without Nina’s help this time. So I left the library and started toward the old apartment building.

  It should have been walking distance, but the streets were wrong. I kept circling, always ending up near the same library doors.

  “I’m doing it wrong,” I muttered, frustration edging my voice. “How do you spend twenty minutes walking in a dream?”

  Dreams weren’t supposed to linger like this. They cut, they shifted. If the first scene was Mark and Vena debating about gods, then the next scene should…

  “Should I what?” I asked myself. “Meeting a G…?”

  The world froze.

  The sky darkened into night, the air turned cold and shimmering. I was no longer at the library, but at a crossroad closer to home, three figures stood, still as statues. No, one figure, with three heads and six arms.

  “Hello, Alice,” said a feminine voice, husky and commanding.

  My throat tightened. “This can’t be right…”

  “Oh, it’s right.”

  The woman smiled, all three faces moving in unison. It was almost gentle, almost kind, but seeing it, I knew I was standing before something older and heavier than any mortal dream.

  Hecate. Goddess of Magic, the original goth mommy.

  I said in the privacy of my own mind.

  The goddess laughed softly, a sound that seemed to echo from three throats at once. Her form shimmered at the crossroads, cloaked in shadow yet sharp enough to burn itself into memory. Each of her three faces wore the same serene expression, their eyes pools of night. Her six arms rested in different poses: one holding a torch, another a dagger, the rest folded in strange gestures of blessing or warning.

  “The original goth mommy?” she echoed, amusement curling her lips. “I’m sorry, dear, but I’ve never heard anyone call me that. And that title would be encroaching on Nyx’s domain.”

  I swallowed hard, heat prickling my skin. “Shit, you can read my mind. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense, my lady.”

  “Don’t worry, girl,” she said, her many eyes glittering. “This is your dream. You hold more power here than even a god. Besides, I’m not here to cause you problems.”

  The words should have comforted me, but standing in her presence was like standing too close to a lightning storm. My knees wobbled, and I couldn’t tell if it was awe or fear. “Then… why are you here, if I may ask?”

  “To thank you, of course.” Her three mouths curved into sly smiles. “You’ve chosen to use my name as your alias, and just like that, my name is now being spoken in the Mythic Realm. In a thousand years, perhaps, people will start a new cult venerating me there.”

  I blinked. My stomach twisted. “All it took was me saying your name a few times for you to grasp a link to the Seven Realms?”

  “Yes,” she said simply. “But it helps that people are asking questions. Who is this Alice Hecate who invented the vaccine, now that the messenger has carried the news home?”

  “Ah, shit…” I pressed a hand to my forehead. “Talk about unintended consequences. At least I didn’t summon assholes like Zeus or Aphrodite.” I hesitated, a thought souring my mouth.

  “Wait! You’re not the type linked to human sacrifice, are you? Or is that just Christian propaganda?”

  All three faces softened into laughter, the sound strangely warm. “No. People worshiped me with simple offerings left at the crossroads: Bread, eggs, or cheese.”

  Was she hinting? Did she want me to revive her cult here? The thought slithered into my mind.

  Her smile widened, as if she had plucked the thought before I could bury it.

  “While reviving my cult might be extremely beneficial to you, I wouldn’t recommend it,” she said, voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t want to run afoul of the Lady. She takes direct action against anyone who tries to force the creation of a new religion rather than letting it form organically.”

  My breath caught. “The Lady does that?” A cold weight sank into my chest. “Wait, wait… what do you mean beneficial to me and not to you?”

  Her torchlight flickered against her three faces as she leaned closer, shadows bending. “Well, you see, why would I care if my cult starts now or in a thousand years? I am Hecate, goddess of magic. But any champion of mine would hold the powerful blessing, maybe something that helps them learn magic faster. And with a world that holds seven different magic systems, such a boon would be an immense gift to you.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you trying reverse psychology? Because now I really want to kickstart a cult to get that boon.”

  The goddess’s smiles vanished. All three faces fixed on me, unblinking, her presence suddenly pressing down like a storm about to break.

  “No,” she said, her voice layered, three tones in perfect unity. “Don’t do it. I wasn’t joking when I said you’d have to face the Lady personally. And that is not a battle you can win.”

  I sagged, shoulders heavy. “Fine. I’ll find another way to get that boon.”

  A faint voice called from behind me. Nina’s voice. “Alice!”

  The crossroads wavered, the goddess fading into smoke and torchlight. Then she was gone, as if she’d never been here to begin with. Daylight returned, warm and ordinary.

  I stood frozen, gooseflesh running across my arms. Had that really been her? Or just my subconscious playing tricks with myths I half-remembered? Dream or Connection, the weight of the warning lingered like iron chains. Too sharp to dismiss.

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

  I jogged across the street, the scenery blurring with every step, until the crossroads melted away. Suddenly, I was standing at the door of my old college apartment. The door was already open. Nina stood inside with her arms crossed, her gray wings folded neatly against her back, and a knowing smile curving her lips.

  “Took you long enough,” she said, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “I made it into your sanctuary before you. You’ll need to be faster next time.”

  “Sorry, I got distracted.” My throat tightened around the truth. I considered telling her about Hecate, but thought better of it. The more knowledge I gave of a goddess, the more power she would gain in this world. And the last thing anyone needed was Olympians running loose here. This realm was already too fragile, too full of dangers, without my meddling.

  Nina arched a brow. “I must say, your dreams are weird.” She wandered further into the living room, fingertips grazing the back of a chair as though testing its texture. “Horseless carriages everywhere, tall buildings made of stone… It’s like the dream of a fiction writer. You could visit a few of those in the Great Dream, you know. Entire worlds spun from imagination. Still, half your ideas would work if only the mana cost wasn’t insane.”

  “All we’d need is to find a cheaper way to power the devices than monster cores,” I muttered.

  “Like what?” Nina smirked, a small flash of fang visible. “Faith power? The god of travel, blessing your cart so it can move?”

  “Cars that run on prayers.” I paused, then chuckled despite myself. “That’s ridiculous! I love it.”

  She laughed, wings twitching in amusement. “Alright, let’s quit joking around and work on your sanctuary.”

  “Okay. What should I do?”

  “Your life has been eventful since we first discovered your sanctuary,” Nina said, circling the room like a teacher testing her pupil. “I’m sure your soul must have grown. Try to modify your sanctuary. Add a room, or change something.”

  I closed my eyes and imagined an extra door leading to an empty room, something I could fill later.

  The dreamscape shivered. The walls flickered like static, trying to rearrange themselves. Then the effect snapped away.

  “It didn’t work,” I sighed.

  Nina crossed the room and opened the apartment door. Instead of the hallway, it swung out into her sanctuary: an endless sky filled with floating islands. Each island thrummed with a different craft, woodcarving, glassblowing, metalworking, each glowing with its own quiet passion. Her world was alive, expansive, and purposeful.

  “Each new addition has to mean something,” she said, stepping back into my space. Her voice carried the weight of experience. “And if a new piece clashes too much with the old, you may need to redefine your sanctuary from scratch.”

  I bit my lip. “Adding a random room to my apartment is absurd. My apartment always had two doors: the front entrance and the bathroom. Forcing another space would feel… wrong.”

  But I didn’t want to scrub it all away either. This apartment was my beginning. The origin of Alice. Innocent Alice, who wanted magic so badly she didn’t think through the consequences. The girl who dreamed of other worlds, who thought about money and survival, but not about the people she left behind.

  A fool.

  That’s when it hit me.

  I focused, pouring intent into the center of the room. A table rose out of the floor, round, black, its surface etched with zodiac signs and curling mystic patterns. At its heart lay a single card: The Fool.

  The image was crystal clear: a traveler version of me, a pack slung over my shoulder, standing at the edge of a cliff. I gazed upward, carefree, trusting the journey ahead, a step away from disaster, yet brimming with positivity.

  Next to it lay a stacked deck. My hand reached out almost on instinct. I drew the first card.

  The Star.

  The image shimmered: a version of me clad in a white sundress and kneeling at the water’s edge, one foot in the stream, one on land. I poured two vessels, one into the water, one into the earth. Above me, seven smaller stars circled one great star, all blazing with distant hope.

  I swallowed and slid The Fool back on top of the deck. Then, with a deliberate motion, I placed The Star at the center of the table.

  The scenery ripped itself apart.

  My apartment dissolved into ash and smoke, walls collapsing like paper. I was no longer on Earth, no longer in a neat little student flat. Instead, I stood once more in the Sunless Reach, at the ragged camp I used for magic research and Star-mana refill. My battered sleeping roll lay by a squat, crumbling dome, my old backpack propped against its stones. Further up the slope, the skeletal outline of an ancient tower loomed in the dark.

  But above me, above me was not the alien sky of the Contested Realm.

  It was Earth’s sky. Tunisia’s sky. The same sky I had stared at the night before everything changed.

  My chest tightened.

  Nina’s delighted voice broke the silence. She was clapping, practically bouncing in place, her storm-grey wings fluttering with each movement. “This is amazing! You actually did it! You expanded your sanctuary, and in such a creative way, too!”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. My gaze drifted back to the table, still there, anchored in the middle of the camp, its surface glowing faintly. Curious, I switched the card back to The Fool, in the blink of an eye, I was standing again in my college flat, everything familiar, neat, and contained.

  “Does that mean I can pick a new card and make a whole new space?” I asked, excitement sparking in my chest.

  “Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Nina shook her head, mock sternness softening her smile. “You’re only an Eighth Dreamer. That’s enough growth for today. You don’t want another crash, do you?”

  I grimaced. The last crash, when I’d overextended sending dream mail to Earth, still made my stomach twist just remembering it. She was right.

  “Alright,” I sighed. “Let’s stick with what I’ve got. Let’s explore the new place.”

  I slid the Star card back to the center. The dorm melted, and once again the camp of the Sunless Reach stretched around us, the black tarot table steady as stone.

  Nina fluttered around the edges of the dream, her sharp eyes scanning the cracks like a curious bird. But it was as if invisible tethers kept her from straying too far; she couldn’t wander beyond a narrow circle.

  I, however, sank back onto my sleeping roll, the dreamscape grounding me with its grit and dust. My eyes traced the sky. The constellations gleamed with impossible clarity, sharp as diamonds. Earth’s stars, Tunisia’s stars.

  Ursa Major sprawled low in the southwest, its great bear shape unmistakable, the Big Dipper’s ladle curving like a question mark against the night. To the north, smaller and fainter, Ursa Minor shimmered, its tail ending in Polaris, the steadfast North Star that once guided sailors home. Near the horizon, Orion strode across the heavens, his belt of three bright stars perfectly aligned, his bow forever raised toward Taurus, whose V-shaped horns glittered defiantly. Cassiopeia arched overhead, her W-shaped throne cutting stark lines into the dark. And further east, faint but radiant, the Pleiades clustered like a spill of diamonds tossed across black velvet.

  It was the sky of home, the sky of Earth, yet sharper, purer, as though scrubbed free of all haze and distance.

  But no falling stars.

  It wasn’t like the real Sunless Reach, a place where shooting stars streaked the sky every few minutes.

  Unless…

  “A meteor shower,” I whispered. My fingers twitched. Could I will one into existence?

  Maybe Inspiration was the fuel of dreams, but Inspiration is limited.

  Back in the apartment, my Inspiration counter had looked like a battery meter on my computer. Here…

  I laughed at myself. Of course.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. The screen glowed, battery at one-third.

  That was enough.

  I clenched my fist, focused, and whispered: “elight.”

  The heavens obeyed.

  The sky split open in silver, meteors scarring blackness with trails of fire. One after another, they fell, painting the void with divine brushstrokes.

  Nina gasped, a sharp intake of breath, her eyes reflecting the light.

  I grinned, keeping my gaze locked on the streaking fire. A strange, electric weight sank into me, thick and buzzing. Star-mana poured into my soul, filling cracks I hadn’t even realized were there.

  I closed my eyes, let it settle, then whispered to myself: “I wish I were next to Nina.”

  The world lurched.

  Suddenly, I was falling.

  “Oh, crap!” I yelped, grabbing at the first thing I saw, Nina’s leg.

  She screeched, flapping hard to keep balance as I dangled from her. The wind roared past my ears, the ground rushing closer.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?!” she shouted, feathers scattering.

  “Sorry! I didn’t want to fall!”

  “This is a dream, you idiot! You can fly too! Did you forget doing it in my sanctuary?”

  “Oh.”

  Sheepishly, I let go of her leg and floated. Air caught me, lifting me up like invisible wings sprouting from my back.

  Nina pressed a palm to her forehead. “Sometimes I wonder how you survive outside dreams.”

  I ignored the jab, spinning once in midair, exhilaration rushing through me.

  I steadied myself in the air, grinning like a fool as the silver trails of meteors faded overhead. My body hummed with the lingering charge of sky mana, the dream thick with possibility.

  “So what’s this space for, exactly?” Nina asked, drifting closer, her wings beating slow and steady.

  I floated down beside her, the ground firming beneath my feet. “It’s for training my wish-based teleportation powers,” I realized aloud. “I can test how my conditions activate without blowing myself up in the real world.”

  Her frown softened into something almost proud. “A very good idea. Many dreamer–elemental bloodline hybrids build training spaces like this. It’s a safe way to practice high-risk abilities.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, considering. “So… if I can simulate my activation condition here, does that mean I could teleport my waking body through this place?”

  “Sadly, no.” Her tone was firm but kind, a teacher cutting off wild speculation before it bloomed. “The sanctuary is only for training. You can’t affect the real world directly from here, or at least you shouldn’t be able to.”

  Figures. Still, my grin returned. “Even so, it’s useful. If my power has side effects, or if it’s like the Perfect State Soulbook, then this place means I can practice without consequences.”

  “Exactly.”

  I looked down at my phone again. My battery, the little green bar of inspiration, sat at one-quarter. “Hmm. That’s maybe three more meteor showers left in me.”

  Nina drifted behind me, leaning just over my shoulder, her stone-grey feathers brushing my arm. Her smile turned sly. “Or… we could go have some fun and refill your inspiration instead.”

  I shot her a wary glance. “Fun?”

  “You’ve never explored the Great Dream, have you?” she teased, her eyes sparkling like the starlight above.

  “No. Both times we tried, something distracted us. First time, I discovered I had a sanctuary. Second time, I ended up in a dream crash.”

  Nina wagged a finger at me like I was a misbehaving child. “Exactly. Which is why tonight, we’re doing it properly. You don’t have a door to the Great Dream in your sanctuary yet, so… we’ll go through mine.”

  We flew back to the black tarot table. I switched the card back to The Fool. The camp and meteors faded, the world shimmering, until I was once again inside my college flat. The tarot table remained, steady and real, anchoring the dream like a keystone.

  Nina stepped to the exit door and pulled it open. The hallway didn’t appear. Instead, we crossed into her sanctuary.

  The shift was immediate.

  Her world stretched vast and endless, the sky a boundless ocean of light. Floating islands drifted lazily, each one glowing with its own craft. On one, half-finished violins leaned against benches. Another hummed with furnaces and blown glass, molten fire spilling color into the dream. Others carried carvings, furniture, and delicate contraptions of gears and wood. Her sanctuary was a living workshop of wonders, each island a heartbeat of her passions.

  Compared to mine, my small dorm, my clumsy anchor, it felt immense. At least twenty times larger.

  I slowed, awe pressing into me. My phone itched in my pocket. Part of me wanted to pull it out, to play her rock music, to tempt her into building something like an electric guitar. But I shook that idea away. If I gave her that, we’d never leave tonight. And I wanted to see the Great Dream.

  Next to my modest little door, still visible here, wedged absurdly into the air, stood another door.

  It was massive, ornate, almost monstrous. Carved from dark wood, it seemed too heavy to exist, inlaid with golden patterns that curled like vines and eyes. A dozen locks studded its surface, yet it radiated with a welcoming aura as if it were begging to be entered. Its sheer size dwarfed me, awe and unease tangling together in my chest.

  Nina watched me with that faint smile.

  “There it is,” she said softly, reverently. “The way into the Great Dream.”

  I stared at it, my pulse quickening. This was no ordinary door. This was a threshold to something vast and unfathomable, maybe worlds spun from imagination, maybe nightmares waiting to bite…

  Or maybe… just a thousand dream cats. After all, the Great Dream ought to be something like the Internet, chaotic, sprawling, full of wonders and horrors alike.

  Nina stepped closer, her presence steady at my side. “You don’t have to go in tonight,” she said quietly.

  “What’s the worst that can happen?” I asked.

  Nina’s wings shifted, feathers rustling softly. “You get lost. Or overwhelmed. Or turn your dream into a nightmare. Still, it is just a dream, and nothing can harm your waking body.”

  I looked at the door one more time and hesitated.

  And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for whatever lay behind it.

  The Fool, I’m not convinced The Star fits the tone I’m going for. //edit: changed The star description from bikini to sun dress