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“Stop fidgeting, dear; you must create a good impression.”
I tried to stop wriggling but my nerves made it impossible. This foreboding was such a contrast to the eagerness I’d felt when receiving my dream assignment. That day felt so long ago, back when the world was magical and vibrant, unlike the place of shadows and darkness where I now found myself trapped.
Youshouldbe excited to receive this assignment; after all, you’re a Nightmare. Yet my thoughts did little to quell my nerves, and I wondered if my reluctance stemmed from the fact I had no experience creating nightmares.
But I had no choice but to learn. Other than the sliver of magic given to me by Mother, I had no magic of my own, and the dream dust I did possess likely wouldn’t be enough to weave with. If I had any hopes of winning a Weaving I’d need to steal more, something I now doubted I’d ever be able to do. If I couldn’t steal from the one who’d ruined everything, how could I steal from anyone else?
Head Nightmare Ember gracefully entered the chamber, a vision of black elegance and power. She gave Mother a knowing smile before bestowing a rather unwelcoming frown on me.
“Welcome, Nightmare Eden. I was quite pleased to hear about your suspension. You never seemed to fit into the Dream Realm; the Nightmare Realm better suits you.” She smirked when her words caused me to stiffen. “Oh? Does that displease you?”
Mother hastily answered for me. “Of course not. She loves her new home.” Her fingers dug into my shoulder, causing me to wince.
I bit my lip to force myself to remain silent. If the Nightmare Council learned how much I hated my new home, they might suspend me. As much as I disliked this realm, it was far better to remain than to not belong anywhere.
Ember studied me for a moment before clicking her silver-moon-tipped staff. The echoing sound summoned two Nightmares carrying a basin, which they set in the center of the room, where it floated, awash in the pale moonlight tumbling through the domed ceiling, waiting for me.
I stood frozen, unable to move. Mother gave me a soft push towards the basin, which would reveal my weaving assignment. Midst my knotted nerves was an unsettling feeling, as if I were lost in a maze I couldn’t escape, no matter how frantically I searched for a way out. One thing was certain: this was not it.
At Mother’s second shove, I finally managed to stir and approach, pausing in front of the basin. “Touch the enchanted water with your powers for the pool to reveal your assignment,” Ember instructed.
I pushed my limited magic to my fingertip and reached towards the silver water, freezing inches away, an unknown force holding me back from touching it. Something...didn’t seem right.
“Touch it with your powers,” Ember repeated. “You know the law: if you don’t have a weaving assignment you cannot remain in this realm.”
The part of me that hated this place more than the thought of not belonging anywhere wanted me to yank my hand away, but my desperate need to belongsomewhere—even in a place of darkness and shadows—compelled me to touch the water with my fingertip.
When I’d touched the weaving pool in the Dream Realm—an event that now felt like several lifetimes ago—lilac ripples had extended from my touch, causing the pool to swirl and form the image of my new Mortal. I expected the same thing to occur now.
Instead, nothing happened. I stared blankly at the shimmery pool, whose surface was completely still, with no sign my magic had disturbed it.
I glanced uncertainly up at Ember, who frowned impatiently. “Touch the pool with your powers.”
“I did.”
“You obviously didn’t, else your assignment would have been revealed. Do it again.”
I did, allowing my finger to linger in the water longer than the first time to be sure my magic had touched it. Still nothing happened.
Expression perplexed, Ember strolled over and peered into the pool. “Why isn’t it working? Do it again.”
I did, but the results were the same. Ember’s frown deepened as she turned to the two Nightmares who’d brought the weaving pool into the chamber.
“Do you have a plausible explanation for this?”
They exchanged equally incredulous looks before one stepped forward. “The weaving pool’s magic is ancient and flawless; upon detecting a Nightmare’s magic, it will always reveal their weaving assignment. The only possible explanation for why it wouldn’t work is if the Nightmare in question isn’t really a...” He trailed off with a look towards me like I was an imposter.
“Impossible,” Mother hissed. “My daughter is a Nightmare. The pool’s magic is obviously flawed. We won’t leave until she receives the assignment that will allow her to remain in the Nightmare Realm. Touch the pool again, Eden.”
I did. Again, nothing happened.
“The pool clearly doesn’t recognize her magic,” the assisting Nightmare continued. “She cannot receive an assignment without it.”
Tense silence followed this denouncement. For the first time since entering this dark realm, a tiny bubble of hope flickered in my heart. If the Nightmare weaving pool couldn’t recognize my magic, did that mean my magic was...notthat of a Nightmare? Would my failure to receive a nightmare weaving assignment be strong enough evidence to overturn my suspension from the Dream Realm?
But Mother squashed my glimmer of hope before it could take root. She stormed up to Ember with a dark look, compelling her to act. Ember shifted uncertainly before turning a forced smile towards the nearby Council members, clearly no match for the force of Mother’s intimidation.
“Despite this inexplicable hiccup, Nightmare Eden still needs an assignment. Bring me the file of newborns who haven’t yet been assigned a Weaver.”
