WELCOME,DREAMHUNTERS!
The Dreambreaker expansion is only two months away, and we’ve prepared everything you need to know in one handy post. If there’s something you think we’ve forgotten, leave it below and it’ll get added.
First, for our boppers: Welcome to the game! We’re glad to have you here. If you haven’t yet, check out Xaxos’s Guides for Newbies. They’ll give you everything you need to know about the game to jump right in and start having fun in the community, and they’re constantly updated.
Now, for our grizzled veterans: links to all the usual suspects! These will be updated as anything changes, but let this be your repository for everything important.
Briory’s Guide Headquarters*
Tremble’s Video Tutorials for Power Levelers
The Sleepy Boys Profession Guides
Dax and Rue’s PvP Season Breakdowns
The Fenhallow Kitchen Stat Calculator
Screaming Fox Armory
Don’t forget, we’re a community here, and there’s always someone willing to help. If you don’t know something, search the FAQ to see if someone has already asked, and if they haven’t, ask it yourself!
We don’t bite. :)
Chapter 2
Tired disappointment radiates from Mom on the way home, filling the car like syrup. I did not go back inside the funeral home for the service. I did not want to. I know what response this kind of avoidant behavior gets me.“Sometimes there are things we have to do, Evie, even if we don’t want to. We have obligations.”
She’s been repeating this to me since I was old enough to understand words. This is maybe the first time shehasn’tsaid it out loud.
“I know this is hard,” she says, glancing at me. I can feel her gaze on the side of my face. “And I know it brings up what happened with Dad—”
“It doesn’t,” I say.
She pauses. “There’s no way it can’t, Evie. If you want to talk about it, I’m here. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Dad had cancer. It would’ve made sense ifhe’dkilled himself.”
In my head, the words sounded logical, free of emotion, but as soon as they leave my mouth, I hear the shape they make in the air. A serrated spear point launched across the front seat. I wish I wasn’t so attuned to Mom’s every shift in emotion, her subtle body language. I can tell just how deeply I struck.
“I made an appointment for you to see a therapist,” she continues, voice tight. “Your first appointment is Friday. I know it’s soon, but it was a miracle she was able to get you in so fast, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity. I’ll take you.”
“You don’t have to do that, I can drive myself.” I try to shift my tone, to make up for what I said by making it clear I don’t want to burden her further.
“I need to make sure you go,” she says.
I hadn’t thought about pretending to go and skipping it, but her instincts are right. There’s a good chance I might have, on the day of.
“Alissa’s parents also invited you to go to church with them this coming Sunday. There’s going to be a service for Alissa. They thought you’d like to be part of it.”
“I don’t like church,” I say.
“They just lost their daughter, Evie. You’ll survive two hours.”
She’s probably going to drive me to that too. I don’t knowwhich is worse, the therapist or church. Both involve sharing your pain with strangers. I think church is probably worse; there are more people there.
Mom turns down our street. Our house is a small single-story ranch tucked away from the main road through town. The siding is gray, the yard is brown, and the flowerbeds are bare from the winter. There is a two-car garage, but Mom parks in the driveway, because there is no room for a car with all the junk gathered inside it. The mailbox out front says Leigh in faded white script.
As soon as we step through the front door, Mom says, “I have to get back to the dealership, but does anything sound good for dinner? Pizza?”
