Chapter-31 Born From Dreams

The second book Frederique opened felt heavier than the first, though it wasn't the weight of the pages. The binding, stitched from soft, dark leather, seemed almost alive under her fingertips, thrumming faintly as if aware it was being read again after countless years.

Lysandro had warned her not to take everything written in the old texts as absolute truth, but there was something captivating about the words as they unfolded across the aged parchment.

"The Changelings"

" When the Mind was first created, life began to think. Thoughts were primitive, yet profound in their simplicity. To eat, to reproduce, and to sleep... these three instincts were imprinted upon every living thing. At first, these thoughts were not questioned, merely followed. Life revolved around ensuring those needs were met. But when a being slept, something extraordinary occurred. They dreamed."

"What did they dream of?

No being could fully answer, but the thoughts formed worlds beyond the physical. And so, the Wild, ever the creator, spun a realm where these thoughts could dwell freely. The Dreamworld was born, a place where imagination was given form, as boundless and vibrant as the minds who shaped it."

"In this strange plane, every thought existed simultaneously. If one creature dreamed of a great sun, the sun would manifest, bright and golden. If another dreamed of rain, rain would fall. The Dreamworld knew no rules... time flowed unpredictably, space folded upon itself, and reality shifted with every slumbering mind's whim. It was chaotic, yet beautiful, as the Wild intended."

" But chaos cannot endure unchanged.

With the birth of humans, something remarkable occurred. Their minds, more advanced and imaginative than any other beings before them, reshaped the Dreamworld. Humans could dream of things far beyond survival... great cities, mythical beasts, gods, and stories woven from pure creativity. And unlike the primal beings, humans' dreams carried intention. They gave names to their creations. They willed structure into the shapeless realm."

" The Dreamworld resisted at first, but imagination was the most powerful force ever conceived. And so, the first Fey were born. "

"They were not gods, nor spirits. They were beings of pure imagination, given form by the thoughts of dreamers. A dragon from one dream. A cunning trickster from another. A nymph born of whispered stories beneath moonlit skies. Different cultures, with different imaginations, gave rise to countless Fey, each unique, shaped by the minds who dreamed them into being."

Frederique blinked, tilting her head as she paused. "So... the Fey are just... stories that came to life?"

Lysandro gave a soft laugh from his seat across the library, his legs elegantly crossed. "Not just stories, ma belle. Stories... are powerful. They can move hearts, start wars, give hope, or shatter lives. And the Fey? They are the echoes of those stories. Living, breathing proof that the mind can shape reality."

"But why are they so dangerous then? If they're born from dreams, shouldn't they be... harmless?"

Lysandro's smile faded slightly. He gestured for her to keep reading.

" The Power of Imagination "

" The Fey were not merely constructs of fantasy. As the Dreamworld stabilized, they learned to harness the very thing that birthed them: imagination itself. Through imagination, they bent the Dreamworld to their will, altering their forms, creating realms within realms, and shaping entire courts of wonder and horror."

"Yet, they longed for more.

The physical world, where dreamers lived... where imagination was birthed... was close, yet separate. And so, the Fey devised a way to cross the boundary. They could not exist independently in the waking world, for they were creatures of thought, not flesh. To enter, they required an anchor."

" A human."

"The Birth of Changelings"

" As the Dreaming expanded, the Fey longed to explore beyond its shifting bounds. The physical world... the world of the dreamers... was so close, yet untouchable. They could feel it through the minds that imagined them, but to exist in it fully... "

" The Fey had no flesh. No true presence outside thought.

And so, they sought a way to cross.

It was the Weaver, the force of structure and order, who whispered the first answer: To enter the waking world, you must be anchored to the flesh. "

" Thus began the first Bonds—a merging of Fey and mortal.

A Fey could not take a body by force, for they were not creatures of domination but imagination. They needed consent. So they whispered in dreams, offering visions of power, beauty, wonder. And some mortals—curious, reckless, desperate—said yes.

But this merging was not simple possession. "

" A Changeling was born when a mortal allowed the Fey's essence to intertwine with their soul, creating a shared existence. Both minds remained, blending thoughts, instincts, and desires. The Fey gained a presence in the waking world. The mortal gained magic—the ability to touch the threads of reality woven by imagination itself.

Yet, such power came at a cost."

Frederique shut the book with a thump, her heart racing.

"So... I'm not possessed. I agreed to this... somehow?"

Lysandro nodded solemnly.

"Yes. On some level, whether you remember it or not, Frideria was invited into your life. The bond between you is shared... but such bonds are rarely without conflict."

"But... "

She clenched the book tighter.

"Why would someone agree to this if they knew the risk? What do the Fey want from us?"

Lysandro's golden eyes gleamed, but he did not answer directly.

"Tell me, Frederique... what would you do to escape your pain? To be something greater than the world told you you were?"

She froze, her stomach twisting.

Before she could answer, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

"There is power in every story, my dear. And sometimes... stories consume their tellers. Now, finish the book."

" The Fragility of Reality "

" What made Changelings truly dangerous, however, was not their magic. It was their presence. For as Fey crossed into the waking world, they blurred the boundaries between imagination and reality. Myths could bleed into the physical realm, nightmares could take form, and if left unchecked, the Dreamworld could consume all. "

" And so, the Fey Courts formed."

" The Day Court, radiant and beautiful, claimed they upheld order, inspiring mortals through visions of glory, joy, and triumph.

The Night Court, twisted and shadowed, embraced the darker truths of imagination... fear, sorrow, and desire. "

" Both claimed dominion over their Changelings. Both sought to control the fragile balance between dream and reality.

Yet, as history has shown, dreams do not like to be controlled. "

Frederique closed the book, heart pounding. Her hands trembled slightly on the cover, the words lingering in her mind long after they had stopped moving on the page.

' Changelings... Fey... I'm one of them now, ' she realized.

The implications were... overwhelming.

Frideria was not some parasite within her. They were both pieces of something much older, much stranger, tied by imagination itself.

But was she the dreamer, or the dream?

She needed answers.

With a determined breath, Frederique tucked the book aside, already reaching for the next in the pile Lysandro had left for her.