In front of me I could see Brax, Elina, and all the surrounding students, but simultaneously I saw a white world, both infinitely small and endlessly expansive. My brain couldn’t comprehend it and vertigo took me. Someone held my back, stopping me from falling on my rear and a familiar scratchy voice spoke to me.

  “Create something, anything.”

  Right, my Dreamscape might have opened, but the door to it would close if I didn’t Craft something inside.

  In my odd half-sight I stared at Brax’s eye, and in my Dreamscape I imaged a page. It wasn’t perfect, not a true rectangle, crumpled and the color of Brickwell’s skin. Blackish-red ink took to the created page, forming a diagram of an eye and the muscles around it. It too was not perfect, instead of the ink soaking into the page, it caused it to distend outwards, as if trying to become true flesh instead of something drawn.

  Pain ballooned in my head and it felt as though my brain were made of lead.

  “Force your mind back to reality,” Cystella ordered.

  I tried to imagine the real world, the ground beneath my feet, the feeling of Cystella’s hand on my back, the onlookers gawking at me, but every few seconds my mind would flicker to the white world and the piece of paper I created. It was so stark and vivid, the landscape blinded the senses and pulled me under its spell.

  By the time I was able to shut my mind away from my Dreamscape, sweat had begun to pour down my face and each pump of my heart sliced through my brain.

  It was only then that I heard the hissing whispers.

  “He did it.”

  “A Dreamer..”

  “Doesn’t that make him even more dangerous?”

  “A Duster is the first one?”

  “We should ask him how he did it.”

  Elina held out her hand to me and I took it standing unsteadily.

  “Thank you,” I said to her, then to Cystella.

  “Don’t mention it,” Cystella said.

  Brax and his friends still stood opposite me, and I examined their eyes. Fear, fear of the repercussions of their actions, but not from the teachers, from me. Only moments before I retaliated with a knife into Brax’s thigh, what would I do now that I had the mystical powers of a Dreamer?

  Could I leverage this in a way to benefit me even more? To ruin any chances at retaliation? To make the entire class think three times before messing with me? Probably, but I was tired. The weight of bullying was gone, but something else had already taken its place.

  The door to the cafeteria opened, and Professor Alyci strolled in without a grain of surprise on her face.

  “Go back to your meals, and if you are incapable of doing so then I would ask that you at least do not make yourselves a nuisance,” the pink haired professor said to the room before turning to me.

  “Mister Gao, congratulations on opening your Dreamscape, come with me.”

  —

  I sat in Professor Alyci’s office examining the oddly decorated room. The chairs were fluffy, while the desk and shelves were thin legged with curling stems and blooming flowers. White rabbits jumped around the pink landscape of her walls with even more patterns of flowers, leaves and vines surrounding the bunnies.

  Then in stark contrast, firearms of all fashions hung on the walls. Small ladies pistols and sports rifles that shot concentrated physical bolts of light from Sun Stones. Then upwards of military grade weapons that fired actual rounds using either Stygoscript formula or the steam from Sun Stones to propel them. Lastly there were the ones that were undoubtedly gun powder based, which was not only illegal for most people to possess, but also rather unseemly to own due to their origins.

  Putting it all together were the stuffed corpses of Nightmares. A wretched monkey like creature had a dozen hairy arms pushed out of its stomach reaching forward as if to grab me from my seat. A dog with fur that went from bright yellow to blood red had its entire body twisted over and over and over, everything from its legs to its torso to its spiky teeth, as though it was made of rope.

  While I was examining a teeth infested human hand the door to the office opened and Professor Pure stepped through, however as Professor Alyci made to enter as well Pure held up his hand.

  “My apologies Professor Alyci but can this be private?”

  Professor Alyci gave the back of Pure’s head a strange look.

  “In my office?”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “If that is alright with you.”

  “By all means,” Professor Alyci said before leaving with a put out expression on her face.

  Once the door clicked shut the professor walked around the desk and sat down in the cushioned chair.

  “My office is a mess, I really do not prefer to have anyone at all in there if I can help it,” Professor Pure explained.

  “I see professor,” I said nodding, it was better to start off on a positive note rather than tell him to not be messy in the first place.

  The professor waved his hand.

  “Let us start with saying congratulations on opening your Dreamscape. However, I must follow that up by telling you that despite your best efforts, Mister Brickwell is okay and will only suffer from minor soreness.”

  “I see, professor…” I repeated.

  I didn’t see at all. Yes, I intentionally aimed for a spot that would end in the least amount of permanent damage. But, it was a knife. Perhaps he was severely understating “sore” to be polite. Or it was a Dreamer’s power.

  I realized Professor Pure was staring at me so I continued.

  “I apologize for my actions Professor, they-”

  “Were expected. To be more specific, they were one of the likely actions myself and the other professors and overseers anticipated,” he said calmly.

  Relief washed through me. This was going better than anticipated.

  “And of those likely actions this one was the most stupid and cowardly one you could have chosen,” Professor Pure finished.

  “W-what?”

  “There were any number of viable alternatives, but you chose the one that took the least effort that caused the most damage and personal vindication. Very short sighted Mister Gao, very.”

  He stared hard at me, but I couldn’t respond.

  The previous tension rushed back into me, filling me with a toxic fear and confusion. I hadn’t been short sighted. I’d planned this for days, and it worked exactly as I’d hoped. Better. My Dreamscape was open. I won. Bully free and a Dreamer. There was nothing-

  “You think there was no other way, don’t you? This is not a rhetorical question, Mister Gao. Do you think stabbing Mister Brickwell was your only choice?”

  “Yes. I-”

  “Do not insult your own intelligence by lying to me. Lady Brightstrike herself said you should go to her for help. A noble Dreamer gives you direct permission to go to her for aid and you ignore it.”

  “I-”

  “I was also clearly able to see Brickwell’s constant harassment of you and his assault on you that day by the forest.”

  “Then why didn’t you help me?!” I said, not letting him interrupt me again. “You said it yourself, the other professors and overseers knew what Brax was doing, and you even assumed that I may retaliate violently. Yet you did nothing.”

  “You did nothing, Mister Gao. Had you come to me at any time I would have stepped in, but you did not.”

  “That is absurd Professor. It is your job.”

  Professor Pure shook his head, leaning forward in the chair and staring me down.

  “I think you confuse what it means to be a Professor here with one at your primary school. My job is to help create Dreamers and give them the tools to survive in our world, not give you a diploma. You want help, ask for it. You want food, look for it. You want to be a Dreamer, work for it. Pursuing one's Dream is no easy task.”

  The fear was now replaced with anger. I stretched my jaw, feeling it pop painfully and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

  “But I did take control of my own life, Professor, and I became a Dreamer because of it.”

  In the silence Professor Pure gave me three soft claps, his eyes never wavering from mine.

  “Congradulations. Would you like a prize?”

  Taking out a checkbook from his vest and a pen from the desk he quickly wrote out some information before ripping it out and handing it to me.

  “What is this?”

  “That, Mister Gao, is about how much it costs for a ticket back to Eichlin.”

  The paper crumpled in my hand.

  “No,” I whispered.

  But… I could go back home. I was a Dreamer now, and though I knew little of how to actually use any Dreamer powers I could experiment until I could. Losing Elina would hurt, and the education that the professors provided would set me back possibly years.

  “You would not keep your powers of course,” Professor Pure said, shutting down my thoughts.

  “Items within ones Dreamscape fade over time as you well know. So you need to constantly Craft more in order to keep that door open. Back when the academy first opened there was not an effective way to stop bad players from running rampant in the countryside. So they were silenced. Eventually we began drugging the young violent Dreamers so they were unable to Craft properly. Now though, Professor Liraca is capable of shutting down your Crafting ability long enough so that it closes naturally without any long lasting consequences.”

  The check crumpled further and the professor glanced at it.

  “Should Mister Brickwell be unable to open his own Dreamscape, do you know what would happen to him?”

  I took a moment to analyze the words, but found nothing, so I answered despite knowing it would be a trap.

  “He would go home.”

  “Yes, he would. He would go home and tell the people there of the Empyrean Dreamer that stabbed him and got away with it. There is already a large discontent with Dreamers in society. The church demonizes us, and the percentage of Dreamers that hold significant power in the world worries the general populace. Four of the eight Councilors are Dreamers. The two richest men in the country are Dreamers. Deep One Cults plague the underworld. Despite that we are safer than ever, and with the Empire gone there is no larger threat that necessitates our existence. We cannot have bad actors amongst us, and we cannot have children with the power to bend reality attacking others just because they feel justified in doing so.”

  Professor Pure stood, and began walking to the door.

  “You should think about whether you wish to be hated or accepted by society. Because remember, you are the only one that can make your Dreams a reality, but you will not be the only one that suffers the consequences if you make the wrong decisions in doing so.”

  I heard the door open behind me, but I couldn’t look back. I still felt as though I was right, I had only been defending myself after all, but shame still ran through me.

  “And, Mister Gao, feel free to keep that check. Any time you feel as though the weight of your Dream is too much, you can leave it behind,” Professor Pure said, closing the door on his way out.