---

Oniria

---

As he stepped through the third door, he watched a scene of misery and despair. The dream wolf shackled and chained, turning to face them with a guttural roar. So many attempted to try and free the wolf... He wouldn't be one of these, he would try to end the suffering of the beast. He too knew the depths of despair and agony that came with madness, no more would would they suffer.

Stepping forward slowly he came to face the beast that many others struggled to free. Snarling Creole would lunge forward to try and end the suffering of the beast. End his suffering.

---

Skill:

---

---

Screaming he woke and seemed to watch a movie play before his eyes. There were doors, portals, and he felt compelled to step through the third door, leaving Skully behind. Once he arrived he watched as the dream wolf stand shackled and bare before them all, chains trapped it and he lunged forward without a seconds hesitation, indigo eyes trained on a chain as he leapt near Valeska and pulled and yanked with all his little body could muster. He had to save it, it couldn't die.

---

—

(by MonetaryUnicorn)

Saela did not know what she expected from the dream that took her mind and body from the safety of her den—her dugout she had created to shield and protect the warmth from the growing cold of the world. She did not know what she expected to hear from the dream visitor, where finally the talk of runes was no longer the center of its mission and purpose. He spoke of a story, one of loss and despair. One of regret and one, she tried to see, of hope.

The world could be saved.

Where the dream visitor’s time was up, his choices made for better or worse, the inhabitants of this world could alter the course of history—could change what the dream visitor could not do.

She wasted no time turning toward that third door, walking through its warped, corrupted magic, and listening with flattened ears as the wolf itself cried and wailed in pain.

She knew that sound. She knew those cries. She knew what it was like to be forced into a position you did not deserve to be in, to be held against your will and tortured in a way that broke every fiber and strength left within one’s soul.

Her heart ached.

I am like you, she whispered numbly to herself, eyes glistening with the phantom promise of tears as she stared at that broken thing—wolf wrapped in his magical prison.

And her gaze turned toward the others, blue eyes watering, as she watched a handful of strangers rip and tear into the chains that bound the man. They could’ve killed him, she thought. He was, after all, responsible for the death and despair that was ruining their world.

And yet, they moved to save him.

She gave herself a tiny nod, one that encouraged her legs to move as she made her way toward the chains—toward the pulsing energy that made the hair along her spine stand in fear.

I will help you, she whispered once more, not knowing if the words were meant for the tortured soul in front of her…or for her own.

It did not matter in the end.

She would do her best to save him, just as she had tried to save herself.

Saela gripped those iron chains, riddled with a rhythmic magic that thrummed and vibrated her teeth as she latched on. And she pulled, ignoring the way the coolness of metal bled into her gums and into her bones with a feeling that she could only rightfully describe as death.

This could be all of their undoing.

And yet, it felt right.

Raelan had wasted no time walking in through the door, or portal, number three at the end of the dream visitor’s narration. He was not a man who could look death in the face and simply walk away. He was a knight. A warrior. A man of duty and of honor.

The wolf, chained and bound, did not deserve to be there.

An injustice that Raelan could relate to.

An injustice that Raelan could not ignore.

He knew he had to save the man, even before the dream visitor had spoken of such an option. Portal or not, he would’ve found his way to this mysterious isle and unchained the man the first chance he would have gotten.

It was a blessing, then, that the portal had made his travels easy—if not disorienting as his eyes focused on the many wolves already present, their mouths wrapped around the iron magic imprisoning the man.

He gave a nod, mostly to himself, as he said a tiny prayer to whatever God looked down on them all. For Vidalia, whom he hoped he would one day return to, and for the life he might never have lived were it not for the choices he had made to get here.

It was with fondness that he recounted his life in those brief few seconds, and an acceptance that if he died there today, he would be okay.

And then Raelan surged forward, his teeth aiming to grip and claw out the chains that bound that wolf—that man whose pain was palatable—in hope that once he was saved their world would be too.

(by pink-atelier38)

Maybe it was something within Hadeon’s DNA, something wrong and foul that led him down paths that could ultimately get him killed. Perhaps, he was a glutton for a pain he could not name? Perhaps, he thought himself unworthy. When could one see a pattern, played out again and again, and finally say to oneself that it was you (him) that was the problem all along?

Hadeon listened intentionally, at first, to the dream visitor’s words. A story he wove of pain and loss and hope. Of a world that could still be saved. Of doors that he, Hadeon, had a choice to choose. A path of healing, which Hadeon knew immediately was not for him. A path of war, where he could put his teeth to good use and protect a prize nurtured within a tree. Or a third option, one that might demand everything from him.

He thought of Calista, of the world, and of the people he loved. He thought of his life, of what it meant, and what it could mean if he chose one option over the other.

But in the end, Hadeon knew there was only one choice for him.

It was option number three. A portal to an isle he did not recognize, to face off against a wolf whose pain devoured the world before them.

And where he might’ve allowed his own rage to tear into the wolf bound to this world against his will, as an act of justice for all the despair he had caused so many others, it was the sight of many other faces (many Hadeon would never recall nor recognize) that yanked at the chains binding the wolf.

What are you doing? He called out to them, shock and confusion ripping from his vocal cords as he sauntered forward, brows furrowed along his expression. He has tried to kill us all, he tried to tell them. He is the reason this world is tearing itself apart.

And they all wished to save him?

It perhaps wasn’t or would never have been Hadeon’s first choice. But as his own starlit stare fixed on the sorrow of the chained wolf’s expression, the wailing that pierced his ears, and the hurt that all but exuded from his tortured body, Hadeon felt something ache inside his heart.

Perhaps, he was no killer in this body or the next.

Perhaps, he could not right the wrongs this man had committed.

But he could give him a second chance.

—he supposed.

And so Hadeon surged forward after a second thought and yanked at the chains binding the wolf to the earth. If this were what the world wanted, he would help them free the chained man and hope that they had all chosen the right option.

---

Skill: —

---

There was pain, and there was torture. There was death, and there was loss. And there was justice…and then there was despair. Amaris had listened to the dream visitor’s story, as if it were a gospel told by the mouths of the Five themselves. He listened, and he wept, and he felt the ache in his chest gape so violently wide that he could not believe what it was that he was hearing.

The dream visitor, in all of its encouragement, had been the reason their world was torn asunder. He had left behind his brother, left behind his own blood to be tortured and held prisoner by the mutated wolves he feared. He had stolen away to the great tree, in which Amaris had been so wonderfully birthed, to embrace his lover while his brother waited in desperation for their return.

How could he—

His jaw gaped open, and though questions riddled his brain, his world twisted in a collection of thoughts he never thought he’d have until doors opened before him. The runes that they had all painstakingly searched for reappeared and created three portals, the dream visitor announced.

One for healing.

One to protect the tree that meant so much to him.

And the last one, to free or kill the wolf who had started it all. Whose pain was actively tearing apart the world. Whose imprisonment was the result of his brother’s lack of loyalty.

Amaris stared at the apparition before him, eyes narrowing in disappointment as he stepped through that third door without a second thought.

His brother had never deserved to go through the pain he was now suffering.

And if Amaris could change that, he would.

Although when he entered that moving portal and his paws landed before a wailing and bound man, he hesitated. He could enact the mercy the wolf deserved, to kill him and end his suffering right then and there. Or, he could free him as his brother had never done, and hope that the bound prisoner’s anger would not redirect toward him.

Amaris could be many things, but a killer, he was not.

And that much was solidified in truth as he glanced at his paws, at his nails that could’ve clawed at the flesh of an immovable target.

It wouldn’t be fair.

But what had really solidified his choice in the end was not his own knowing of who Amaris was and could ultimately be—it was the sight of his mother, Valeska, ripping desperately at the chains that bound the prisoner to the earth.

MOM! He called out, shocked that his mother would have chosen this door at all. What in the name of the Five was she doing here?

She could…she could die!

The dream visitor had alluded to as much in their cryptic narration. And while it was okay for Amaris to be here, he was young and agile; his mother had only just cheated death through the attempted murder by her wife. She deserved to be back at home, asleep and safe, within the respite.

Not…Not…playing chess with her life.

Amaris raced toward her, Mom, what are you doing here? He panted in desperation as he held back the quiver that wished to control his words. He had not felt fear before, but now, it was all Amaris could feel.

He did not wish to see her go.

And if that meant freeing the imprisoned wolf and shielding her from any impending doom that might come her way, then that was what Amaris would have to do.

He settled beside his mother, beside Glitch, and beside…Was that Lily?

—Lily? He breathed, eyes blown wide as he blinked in confusion—in shock—at her very presence, What are you doing here?

He never thought he’d see her again.

Now, he was going to save two women he cared for deeply.

Fuck. He mumbled.

Okay, they were saving the wolf. There was no other choice.

We heave on three, he called out through the pulsing radiance of the thrumming and corrupted magic. One… he said as he wrapped his teeth around the wrought iron, Two… He steadied his legs, blinking back what ghostly tears wished to slip down his cheeks. Three! He heaved with all his might, hoping that their force together could break the chains and free the wolf bound before them.

And he hoped, with everything good inside him, that those he cared about would survive this endeavor.

It was the second dream she had witnessed now with the same person, the same strange language, and the same intimate details of a life she'd never lived herself; but in this case Aiesha was witness to the terror of three wolves, the abandonment of one, the horror of being caught—all of it nightmarish.

She knew what it felt like to be abandoned, she thought. She knew what it felt like to be swallowed by the very earth! It was this that resonated with her the very most. How awful to be left there, to be dragged in to that terrible darkness and swallowed up. The memory of her own experience warred with the dream as it unfolded, until finally there were the three doors open to her.

Believing herself to still be dreaming, Aiesha did not hesitate.

The path to the tree was tempting for only a moment, and then she thought to be a warrior was something she had trained for with Khusobek. It wasn't until she saw a glimpse of that fractuous, tethered body beyond the third portal's yawning mouth, that she knew where she wanted to be.

That poor creature! It shouted and screamed, and she knew just how it felt (at least she thought she did, being more a child than anything herself). She saw the pain in it, and the way it was snared by those chains. To confine a creature such as this! It wasn't right. Freedom was the most important thing—and this poor creature had been left here to suffer!

She didn't realize she had been crying ever since the dream of the three. That her face was wet, and now cold, and that the tears sprang to life renewed upon confrontation with this creature.

Towards the chains rushed Aiesha, intent on doing something, anything to help them be free.

What did the bringing of new life truly mean, if one was only left to suffer so greatly? Despite her condition, she stepped through the third door and joined the many teeth pulling at the chains.

Her heart shattered for the Wolf bound by the past. No more would they suffer. Stepping through the third door, she seized a chain in her maw, intent on freeing the poor soul from its torment.