Where Dreams Come to Die
By Chopstick

Nightmares chase me, even after I awaken. I am haunted by the most foul creatures roaming the night; I woke up in bed, greeted by darkness that was merely challenged by the moonlight shimmering through. Bony arms came up from under my bed, thick slime dripped from the monstrous jaws raised high above me. Frightened as I was, I ran away; out the door, into the forest. My feet had begun to bleed from the rough terrain, but one could not falter, for the monsters might catch me.

Eventually I got to an open field, with a great oak in the centre. I was surrounded. Monsters started dripping into view from all sides, each one more hideous and terrifying than the previous. The moon was full tonight, and her illumination acted as a spotlight to this cruel spectacle. I sat down and closed my eyes, ready to meet my fate, as suddenly, I felt a calming hand on my shoulder. I opened one eye to look up, and saw there was this beautiful woman, dressed fully in white, standing over me.

‘Do not be afraid, my name is Luna.’

I stood up at her sign, and looked around. Somehow, there were no monsters to be seen. Befuddled I stood there, while Luna smirked.

‘Come, do you see that tree?’ She pointed towards the great oak.

I nodded.

‘It is a very special tree, one whose existence is only known to you and me. How about we go there?’

I followed her to the oak. Even in the dark, it was a magnificent tree. A ladder hung down, and as we climbed up to the highest peak. The first beams of sunlight came through. Luna smiled again.

‘If the nightmares come looking for you, remember this place. For a nightmare is nothing but a dream, and when the morning comes, all dreams must perish. So remember where this oak does lie, as it’s the place where dreams come to die.’

Now I come here every night; because no matter what the darkness will send, all nights must come to an end.

“Secret Places of the Heart”

By Arith_Winterfell

I stood next to Alethia. If I strained my hearing, I could almost hear her heartbeat. We looked out over the afterglow of the sunset’s end. I knew the night’s work would begin soon. The hunt, and there were other tasks laid out by Master Telcane. Still, I lingered by her side. I loved her. Yes. And yet, nothing was said between us. I felt that she must share these feelings. But—

“The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

I cocked my head slightly in thought, then answered, “It is. As are you.”

I turned toward her, and we locked eyes. I was careful not to use my powers, even accidentally. I could easily compel her, but that would defeat the point. I wanted her to love me, of her own free will. To love me as I am, even though I am still of heart, and dead of flesh.

She simply turned away, back to the dimming glow of the sunset with merely a coy smile as a response.

“My relationship with you is something special. Something I have with no one else,” I began.

She smiled again saying, “There’s a lot of work ahead of you I know. You should go, and I should rest.”

We linger here at the sunset’s end. I with the fullness of the night ahead of me, and her with a night full of slumber. We hold together in that moment in time. She is of the day, and I of the night. Here in the slipping moments between those two times, we can linger together.

Now. Now I should say it! But before I can speak, she already seems to know, and simply silences me with her finger upon my lips.

“Go. The night calls to you,” she adds with a smile.

I can’t help but return her smile with my fanged grin as I turn and leave. Tomorrow perhaps. Tomorrow waits for me, with all the secrets of the heart.

“A Concealed Funeral”
By Deathlyrage

“Why do we have to haul this…thing all the way out here?” Zulitrea’s eyes walk up and down the body bag yearning for a cut of flesh to sate her appetite.

Prodding at the ground with a shovel in hand, Thestris glances back at Zulitrea. “Don’t even think about it,” he says, steadily placing the bag on the ground, then relinquishing his grip from its handle.

Zulitrea scowls tossing down her shovel. “Why in all of the hell’s did I have to attend this half-assed, haphazard funeral?” She jostles against the body bag disregarding the necessity for its careful handling.

“Zulitrea Anashkii Mrelith” Thestris exclaims. His words bellow around in the forest, bouncing off of the trees, and frightening the delicate personalities of the plant life. Aware of his blunder he slaps his left cheek, leaving on it a visibly bright handprint. He reels in his vocal range, whilst addressing her with the sternness of their village elders. “A day’s walk, that is it. A simple day’s walk!” His attention turns towards the writhing in the body bag. “Ancestors be damned,” he chagrins.

“It’s coming back isn’t it?” She releases her grip from the bag, shuffling over to where her shovel was tossed.

Thestris nods, tightening his grip on the shovel’s handle, and leaning in towards where the writhing is most active.

He thrusts the shovel as though it were a spear, and straight into the center mass of the bag. A piercing screech comes forth, echoing with such intensity that the trees begin to whirl. The lustrous plant life around them recede in an attempt to shield themselves from its animosity.

“Aim for its head” Thestris yells.

Zulitrea’s eyes sharpen themselves against the whirlwind of sound, honing in on the things head. In one movement she pounces upwards, angling the shovel at its head and pushing it in with both feet.

Thestris unclasps his hands, finding it difficult to straighten his fingers. “Th-that’s why you’re here…why we’re here,” he says, exasperated.

“I-I’m sorry”. Zulitrea glances around them, noticing the damage done to the plant life. “I’m sorry…”

Hidden Truth
By Timberwolf

You walk home along the same route you always have when you spot something across the street that wasn’t there before. Even stranger is that no one else seems to notice it. An alleyway.

But this one is different. Moss and grass cover most of the ground and walls. As curiosity seemingly gets the better of you and you cross the street to get closer, you note the song of birds as the deafening roar of inner city traffic fades into nothing. You walk in before you can catch yourself.

The brick walls give way to natural rock. You feel the grass between your toes as at some point you lost your shoes. As you spin in place to take in the green smells, you stop when you notice a silhouette on the far side of the crevasse. She’s covered in darkness but you can still make out her slender form and long hair. She has pointy ears.

You tilt your head a little. So does she. You move a little to the left. As does she. You move closer. So does she. Every move you make she imitates perfectly without delay and without fail. Even the little ways you move or carry yourself. You inch closer and closer to her, and she to you. You should feel alarmed or uneasy, but the more you look at her, the more familiar she feels. You come closer and reach out. Just before your fingertips touch hers, the loud and sudden roar of a car horn distracts you.

As the car races past, you suddenly find yourself back on the opposite side of the street, shoes and all. The birds are gone. The smells are gone. The magic is gone. You look towards the alleyway, but it too is gone. Both buildings effortlessly meld into one another.

Was it just a daydream or was it real? It felt real, and if it was, were you cast out for intruding or was it an invitation?

What you do know is that in there was the first time you felt like you truly belonged…

A Path yet Unbeaten
By Mango Gravy

There are many secret places in the world. Eighty six, to be exact. Through the Pathic Poems, these Secret Places are no secret at all. Everyone knows of the Tulgy Wood, or the Blurqoise Osis, and even the Frospy Mountain. But none have yet found them, for though the way is known, the path is unknowable.

“It says ‘turn east when you see the wigwig tree’,” Jack said, pointing at a tree that bent this way and that for no discernible reason. “Wigwig obviously means wiggly, and this is the wiggliest tree I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t be mad,” Jock said, shying back, “but I saw a wigglier tree about mile back.”

“Why didn’t you say anything!”

“I thought wigwig meant… wig. As in hair. So I was looking for a willow tree.” Jock paused, bracing for a shower of insults, “I haven’t seen any willows. Incase you were wondering.”

Resisting the urge to throttle his companion, Jack thought back to the Poem of Tulgy Wood. Each of the Pathic Poems had lines that gave advice in the event that one became lost.

“‘Should you find the finding tough, listen for ties and call its bluff’,” Jack recited. He stood for a second, considering the sentence, before bursting into a rage, swinging his fists and tromping about as he yelled, “What in the bloody hell does that mean?”

Jock stepped away so he wouldn’t be caught in his friend’s frumious fit, and waited for Jack to calm down. He stared at the ground as he contudiously considered their conundrum. Solutions to the many problems posed by this Pathic Poem churned in his head, and in the minutes it took for the red to leave Jack’s face, Jock drew what he considered to be the most reasonable conclusion.

“I give up,” he said.

And so they did. Never again did they return to the Tulgy Wood. No frabjous day for the whiffling travelers, they remained bewused and mimsy, and this Secret Place had once again resisted prying eyes.

And the path had yet to be beaten.

Discoveries in the Dark (A Tiefling Tale) [From Private]
C. M. Weller

There were many things Kormwind would rather do than sleep. The dreams that came to him were rarely, if ever, sweet. Lately, they had been of his father the Earl sitting in judgement of him whilst on the Blood Throne. There were others, like becoming an entire monster, or waking to find himself with all the monsters of the dark.

When Korwmind inevitably woke in the grey of the night, he could not settle again. Some of his bad dreams included Nani punishing him after she found him. Not that that stopped his wanderings.

Tonight, he was a little more lost than he should have been. Roaming through parts of the castle that had fallen to neglect or at least disuse. Trying doorknobs on the off chance he might find someone.

At this point, it was better to get in trouble for being where he shouldn’t be than to be lost in the grey forever. Little lordlings, no matter how demonic, should not be getting lost in their own castle.

Kormwind found a door that wasn’t locked. Nobody had left anything in here, except for what appeared to be a wardrobe against the far wall. This fascinated him, so he looked inside and found… ANOTHER door. Which lead to an overgrown wonderland.

The moonlight loaned it colour. Kormwind saw green bushes, and red and purple berries, and bright toadstools he knew he should never touch. And one solitary tree surviving against the odds.

Every last patch of soil in Whitekeep was maintained and tended and pressed to the work of feeding the people, even in the castle. Therefore this space was unknown to anyone but him. If he told Nani, Bothari, or even his parents… it would be taken away. Forbidden. Used, but never for him.

The city below and a window above told him where he was. Kormwind quietly left the secret door and its guardian wardrobe shut. Closed the door to the neglected room, and found a staircase that took him up to far more familiar hallways.

Just this once, he would be a SELFISH Tiefling, and keep this wilderness a secret.

Into The Maw (Nyx’s Story)
By Calliope Rannis

Nyx had gotten to know the castle of the Lectara family rather well, in her year of employment with them. But one place she had never explored was the keep’s unused chapel.

So it was a surprise to her when the Lord’s chief of staff led her there, after returning from her latest and most significant task. She had expected to be taken to the throne room, even at this time of night. Not here.

The chapel was a substantial sight admittedly, an ostentatious room dedicated to…some moon god? It had more windows than anywhere else, allowing moonlight to fill the room. That light shone off a great moon engraving upon the floor in the centre of the room, and a small, circular silver-rimmed font just before it, filled with gleaming clear water.

Master Rathnodel glanced back at her, as if sensing her uncertainty. “Come along now, Ms Murnor. We are not here to gawk.” He approached the font, gesturing at Nyx to follow.

“My Lord considers your recent performance of your duties to be quite satisfactory. Perhaps even admirable, on occasion.” He said, removing one of his thin white gloves. “He believes that you are now ready for greater responsibility, now that you have, ah, proved yourself.”

Nyx quietly shuddered at the statement, as Rathnodel drew a quill from his pocket and continued. “Of course, such responsibilities will also come with due reward. But that is for you and Lord Lectara to discuss, not I.” With that, he pierced the tip of his middle finger with the quill, and let a single drop of blood fall into the shimmering font.

The stain expanded rapidly, turning the silver pool red within seconds. As it did, the moonlight within the room turned crimson too – and just beyond the font, the moon-engraving rumbled and split apart. Beyond, was a grand stone staircase, leading down into total darkness.

Nyx stared at the abyss before her, and glanced back towards Rathnodel.

His expression was nonchalant. He had done this before. “Go on then.” He said, gesturing forwards. “Do not keep our Lord waiting.”

Oh Great! Now There’s Two of Them!
By Marx

Daisy appreciated her friends. She really did. She loved how much they cared for her. It really helped her in the tough times. But she also just needed to be alone sometimes and wallow in her misery without someone trying to cheer her up. It made her even more appreciative when they finally allowed her this time to be with her own thoughts.

‘It’s nice to want things,’ A voice echoed in her mind.

Daisy froze. Her blood became ice. She couldn’t breathe. ‘J… Jasmine?’

‘The one and only,’ Daisy’s former friend puckishly answered back.

‘…Alex promised. He PROMISED he’d leave me alone!’

‘Oh, this is all me. After all, the last time I saw you, you were being tortured quite spectacularly. I’m just… checking up on you.’

Daisy shuddered. She didn’t want to think about this. She REALLY didn’t want to think about this. ‘Please… just leave me alone…’

‘Poor Daisy!’ Jasmine mocked, ‘Is that what you tell yourself? That you’re the victim? Did you forget that I was there when you met Alex? He’s a multi-millennia old demon. A chaotic force of nature. You were the one who antagonized HIM. You kicked a bear, thinking it was a chihuahua and got mauled. If he’d been human, you’d have just bullied him like everyone else.’

“And you would have let me!” Daisy screamed, “You didn’t care how horrible I was to people as long as I was nice to YOU! I killed so many for Alex and you’re only angry at me because I didn’t spare YOUR family. You only care about yourself!”

‘Said the coffee pot to the kettle… How black thou art…’

“Screw you.” Daisy sobbed, “At least I’m TRYING to be a better person.”

‘Only because you’d be alone if your new friends knew the real you.’

“This IS the real me!”

‘Right. Keep telling yourself that. It’s sure to stick. Eventually…’ Jasmine’s taunting laughter echoed in Daisy’s mind, ‘See you around, Mutt.’

Finally greeted once again with blissful silence, Daisy stopped holding back her tears.

“…this is the real me…” Daisy whispered almost silently.