After finishing his dinner, Darek collapsed into bed, exhausted despite his abilities.
Ah, nothing beats a cozy bed, he thought, grinning as he burrowed into his blanket, letting his eyes drift closed. Hopefully, I’ll dream of sleeping in.
No sooner had he fallen asleep than he heard a strange sound coming from his pillow. “Njam, njam, njam…” Soft, almost playful, yet as if it had just finished a meal.
The weight of the blanket vanished, the room with it. Only darkness remained, brushing against his back like air, while something pulsed in front of him.
Suddenly, Darek found himself standing in an endless, dark expanse. Everything was black, and before him loomed a massive, pulsating void. It seemed like a heart beating the darkness itself, abstract yet mesmerizing.
Is this… my dream? Some kind of lucid dream? Darek pinched himself lightly, feeling a faint twinge ripple through his soul. Then his gaze fell on the black, pulsating void at the center. He stared, holding his breath.
What is this? Where am I? This isn’t a dream—not really. Everything feels too real. Darek frowned. No, not just real… familiar. Yeah, in a strange way, I feel safe.
Then it hit him. Could this be… my soul? Yes, there’s no other way to describe it. Damn, how did I even get here? And what is that thing—hole, heart—I don’t even know what it’s supposed to represent, but something’s happening.
The blackness pulsed faster and faster. The moments between pulses shrank until the void began to twist in on itself. Its edges flickered as if an invisible storm tugged at it, then it suddenly collapsed into a tiny point—visible to Darek only because, somehow, he was connected to it. For a heartbeat, it seemed as if it had never existed. But then a blinding light burst from the center of the implosion, flooding the infinite expanse.
“Ahhgrrgh!” Darek instinctively raised his arm, shielding his eyes with his elbow. Only when the light dimmed did he realize that the expanse had calmed and transformed. In the darkness, scattered points glowed. At first a few, then more and more, until entire stretches looked like galaxies, like the Milky Way itself, or the night sky over Symbion. Slowly, Darek lowered his arm, breathless with awe.
Wa… what are you doing here? Wait a minute… that makes sense. You’re my Soulbound. So this really is the inside of my soul.
From the center of the implosion emerged his pillow, surrounded by a calm yet infinitely deep energy, as if looking straight into the heart of the universe.
The pillow appeared unchanged on the surface—white, rectangular, measuring 40 × 80. Yet its aura, its connection to Darek’s soul, had reached a depth he had never felt before. Like a heartbeat that existed just for him.
It feels like… our bond is stronger… no, no… like it’s awakened. I can sense the connection more intensely, almost as if I could understand its thoughts. Already crazy enough that it seems to have… thoughts. Darek’s Soulbound had reached the Second Stage.
“What… is this?” Darek muttered, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
A brief pulse emanated from the pillow, and suddenly, as if by magic, something materialized a few meters away from his Soulbound. At first, it was barely recognizable, but then it became clear: a door, about two and a half meters tall, with a gently arched top, mystically decorated, covered in intricate symbols tracing its frame. It seemed otherworldly, almost unreal, yet Darek felt it belonged here, as if everything followed an order he simply didn’t yet understand.
My Soulbound… created this door. Darek felt a pull from it, staring in astonishment. You want me to go in? Through this strange, mystical door inside my own soul, leading who knows where? After a moment’s thought, he shrugged indifferently. Well, where would we be if I didn’t trust my own Soulbound?
He stepped forward slowly. Yet nothing about the door remained constant. Its form seemed to shift endlessly, at one moment metallic, the next mist, light, shadow, or something language could not name. Materials seemed to flow into each other, continuously blending and separating without a clear transition. It was as if the door existed in multiple forms at once. The decorations and symbols along the frame were alive, constantly reshaping; colors and patterns shifted endlessly, defying all logic. No moment was the same, yet he sensed a strange clarity in their meaning.
Dreamworld…, he whispered, as if he could suddenly read the writing on the door, as though it had been written just for him.
He pushed the door open. Blinding white light struck him, and in the next moment, he found himself standing on the sports field of his school. Yet everything was strangely distorted: the water from the fountain flowed upward into the sky. Mr. Markes stood opposite Ben on the field, ready for the tournament, students cheering. Everything seemed normal, as if nothing had ever been different, and yet it was absurd.
A dream… my dream… this… is the ability of my awakened Soulbound?
Darek turned. Behind him stretched a boundless expanse, a rolling, endless void spreading in all directions.
What… what is this… he murmured, heart racing. He stepped forward cautiously, and suddenly the sports field around him began to dissolve. Buildings, grass, goals—everything stretched into infinite expanses, distorted like an image too large for reality. The ground beneath him swayed, the air shimmered, and even the familiar sounds of the school seemed to vanish into nothingness. It was as if the world had abandoned rules, and Darek was in the middle, caught between dream and chaos.
No sooner had he left the sports field than the world shifted again, until everything around him came to a halt, and he finally regained the illusion of solid footing.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Wooow, that was insane… and where the hell am I? What is this? I feel like I’m in a fantasy world, like a video game. Darek looked around in amazement, but the longer he looked, the more wonder gave way to growing unease.
He found himself in a vast, endless meadow, grass reaching to his knees, swaying in the wind like waves.
The sky was covered with purple clouds. They seemed twice as distant as the clouds over Aquilara, like a blanket draped across the world, forming a boundary between heaven and dream. Beneath them floated islands, as if anchored by invisible chains.
Silent serpents glided between them, moving gracefully, fluid as water. Their scales sparkled like liquid metal, reflecting the distant sun. They moved elegantly through the void, disappearing into spirals of light, as if dissolving into thin air.
Yet all of this paled in comparison to what rose at the center of the plain. About eight to ten kilometers away, a mountain towered like a colossal spire—a monolithic pillar connecting heaven and earth. It dominated the landscape, piercing the purple clouds, its peak lost within them. Whether it ended there or extended further into the endless sky was impossible to tell. Everything in this world seemed drawn to it, as if obeying its silent pull. And yet, even a glance alone left no doubt: this was the center of the dreamworld.
Among the grass moved strange, monster-like creatures: a giraffe-like animal with tusks and six neck limbs trembling with each step, and a dog-like creature, its body interwoven with long antennae, rolling like a living sphere.
Darek swallowed hard. This must be a dream… and certainly not mine. Who—or what—could dream something like this?
Suddenly, he noticed something gliding through the air. A single, enormous eye, carried by two majestic, soot-colored wings. It hovered before him, fixating him with a vigilant, curious gaze. The iris shifted endlessly, sparkling like liquid light, reflecting, for a moment, the infinite sky of the dreamworld.
The wings moved evenly, never still, like a bat’s, but larger, nobler, more graceful. Their soot-colored sheen gave them depth, each movement precise and natural, as if gliding itself were its breath. Long, curved struts ended in sharp tips, adding a sense of awe to the silhouette.
No sound, only the gentle rustle of wings, whispering through the void.
“What… are you?” Darek asked, expecting no answer, his pulse racing. The being’s presence was both fascinating and unsettling.
The eye tilted slightly, as if scrutinizing him, and suddenly a voice echoed directly in his mind:
“Call me Iris.”
Darek replied curtly, “Darek.” Then he widened his eyes and shouted, “Wait… hold on, what?! You can talk?!”
No sooner had he spoken than from a swirl of light emerged another, similarly shaped but much larger serpent. It rolled impressively through the air, heading straight for the giant mountain at the center, splitting it under its impact, though at that scale hardly noticeably. Debris flew through the air, sparks scattering like stardust.
“What… what is someone like you doing in a forgotten dream?” Iris asked.
Darek stared at the destructive scene, unable to blink. His heart raced, his breath nearly stopped.
That thing… that flying serpent, at least twenty meters long, just crashed into the mountain…
He swallowed again, eyes darting over the floating islands, the giant serpents, and the strange creatures wandering among them.
Damn… what the hell is happening here…
“Wait… hold on… a forgotten dream?” he stammered, voice nearly lost in the wind of floating islands. “What… what is that supposed to be? And how can you even talk? You don’t even have a mouth!”
“Telepathy, you dimwit.” Iris floated a step closer; her wings flapped gently, the eye glowing deep blue. The voice echoed again in Darek’s mind, calm, penetrating, with a sigh:
“What do you think? As the name suggests: Forgotten Dreams are dreams no one retains, dreams whose owners remember nothing upon waking. They drift, lost, between dreamers and their dreams. Dangerous, needless to say. Welcome to the dreamworld, Two-Eyes.” Iris’ gaze suggested a smirk, if only she had a mouth.
Darek swallowed hard; the words sank deep into his mind.
“I was born here… tried leaving a few times, but haven’t managed it yet. Not that I’m in a rush—150 years later, it’s still boring sometimes,” Iris said calmly, almost casually.
Darek frowned. “Born… in a dream… 150 years ago?”
Iris exhaled; a barely audible flap of wings accompanied the eye’s blink. “Ah, so you know nothing… How did you even get here?”
Darek shrugged nervously. “I… just fell asleep… and… here I was.”
“Of course…” Iris’ voice sounded slightly annoyed, yet patient. “Very well. Listen carefully, Darek. Everything you see here—every meadow, every floating island, every creature—was born from the essence of dreams. Some belong to humans, some exist alone. And we… the dream-beings… we are born from those dreams that left enough energy, consciously or unconsciously. We watch over the dreamworld, uphold its order… or bring chaos when needed.”
“So… you’re basically the children of dreams?”
Iris’ iris gleamed deep violet, her expression mildly amused.
“Not that dim, Two-Eyes. You could put it that way… but the truth is more complicated. Listen carefully, Darek, because this is not easy to grasp.”
“Some of us,” Iris continued, “are fragments of the collective subconscious—shards of all living beings’ souls. We personify recurring fears, desires, or archetypes—the things dreamers repeatedly think, feel, or dream.
Others are the firstborn of the dreamworld. Before any living being dreamed, this world already existed. We are its natural inhabitants; we require no sleep, we are pure dream-beings—free and independent.
And then there are those of us,” Iris’ voice dropped to a cautionary whisper, “born from forgotten dreams. Ancient, powerful dreams no one retained, which became autonomous… they are fascinating… and dangerous. We avoid them when possible, yet they do not avoid us.”
Darek swallowed again, heart pounding wildly. The floating islands, giant serpents, strange creatures—all seemed even larger, even more unpredictable.
“So… the dreamworld has existed a long time… some of you are remnants of our own thoughts… and some simply came into being because dreams were forgotten?”
Iris nodded slightly, wings beating slowly.
“Exactly. Everything you see here is a web of memories, energy, and possibilities. Some of us uphold order, others bring chaos when necessary.”
Her wings stirred uneasily, the eye glowing dimly.
“You know, dreamer… I’d love to leave this dream,” Iris began, her voice in Darek’s mind now urgent.
“But that’s not so easy for us dream-beings. Every dream has its own barrier. Especially those of forgotten dreams… nearly impossible to break.”
Darek swallowed hard, asking quietly, “And… how does one get out?”
Iris’ iris now glowed a deep, almost hopeless blue.
“Either you understand the dream, grasp its meaning for the dreamer, or you destroy it. Both seem impossible.”
Darek felt panic rising.
“How… how would one destroy such a dream? Everything here could erase me in an instant!” His voice grew frantic, his heart racing. “And understanding?! Nothing makes sense here!”
No sooner had he spoken than debris in the background—the remnants of the mountain the giant serpent destroyed—began moving. From the rubble grew long, twisted, living arms, seemingly from another dimension. They stretched slowly, then faster, purposefully toward the serpent, tearing it from the sky and dragging it to the ground.
Darek stumbled backward over the grass.
“What… what is that…?” he gasped. His breath caught, pulse racing, panic gnawing at him.
“I… I can’t… I can’t stay here… please, just let me wake up from this nightmare,” he screamed.
Iris regarded him with a detached gaze, as if this were the most normal thing in the world.
“You mean a forgotten dream. A nightmare is something else entirely.”
