Dreamfinder Figment Novels & Stories

It was *summoning*. The figure turned toward the sound. “They’ve found us.” “Who?” Kael demanded. But the figure was already stepping away, eyes burning brighter. “The Dreamer’s Hounds. They hunt the Riftborn.” The forest exploded with light. Shapes burst from the trees humanoid, but stretched unnaturally, with mouths that opened too wide, eyes stitched shut, and limbs that moved like they were detached from physics. Their skin glowed with Rift sigils, burning like fresh brands. “Defensive formation!” Kael roared, drawing his blade.

If I could just get to safety— The trees ahead of me exploded. A monstrous figure stepped through the flames. I barely had time to register the sheer size of it—easily fifteen feet tall, its body made of coal and molten fire. Its glowing ember eyes locked onto me, burning with something far worse than rage. Purpose. A deep, distorted voice rumbled through the clearing. “The time has come.” The air turned heavy, crackling with unnatural energy. My wolf recoiled, instinctively knowing we were facing something beyond our world. "We shall claim the Helm of the Gifted."

“It’s about bridging two worlds, about tethering your existence to mine in a way the waking realm can accept.” Damien nodded, his fingers brushing against my wrist, grounding me. “Then let’s do it.” I took another steadying breath and closed my eyes, reaching deep within myself. My Oneiromancer abilities had always felt like a second heartbeat, pulsing beneath my consciousness, allowing me to shape and control the dream realm. But this—this was different. I wasn’t just manipulating the dream. I was trying to break its boundaries. Damien wasn’t a mere dream construct. He was real—sentient. His essence was woven into this place, and now I needed to pull him free.

She began to chant, her voice filled with ancient power, her words a mystical incantation meant to ward off the darkness that had consumed me. Gradually, a surge of energy coursed through my veins, rekindling the dwindling flames of my strength. I slowly opened my eyes, the world coming back into focus. Weakly, I murmured, "Margaret, thank you. What happened to me?" With a solemn expression, Margaret leaned closer, her eyes holding a mixture of concern and revelation. "Derenzantrafiakiloma, the one who reads minds, was the entity that visited you in human form," she revealed.

I praise Him most of all for turning the evil situation that had been hell pressed to do worse than just simply kill me, into a life made so full with happiness that I could never have asked for as much as He had given to me. In truth, my life had become a fantasy. A dream come true. Glancing back into my mate’s eyes, I could see that the same was true for him. I was well and truly his fantasy.

"What is a dream dweller, Elfar?" "Dream dweller is the bridge of the supernatural. Between the dream realms and ours. Anyone powerful enough could invade your mind and pass the bridge... thus making you an oracle. The one who sees the past and the future. And if someone who could seize your mind, could control you. That is why your father wanted you gone rather than bestowing you the curse of the gods. He wasn't a terrible man, you know. He just wanted to have an ordinary life. A happy one. Poor but mundane, away from all the conflicts and war between supernaturals and the church. He tried, you know. Wed a beautiful human, but before you were born, Damascus' grandmother had used him and inv

"When I was in my home town, I went to a fortune-teller. She had told me that I would meet someone from another realm that held the same desires that I did. One that would help me achieve my goals." "And you think I am that someone? Fortunes as vague as those can be interpreted in a number of ways. Of course, there are plenty of people out there who might share the same goals as you." "I would agree with you there. However, she went into more detail. I had her write down everything, unfortunately, some parts are vague but I think you might fit the description." Girod hands a piece of paper over to Fenrir. (Demon's Claw, a fanged creature approaches. Killer's Instinct, one soul split in two.

“It’s… something else. Humanoid, but wrong.” Damien’s voice was a growl. “The runes are holding, but they’re straining. We need to reinforce them.” Althea began chanting, her voice weaving ancient words, while Damien sliced his palm, letting blood drip onto the central rune in the foyer. The wards surged, forcing the figure to retreat, its snarl fading into the forest. But as it vanished, Aurora caught a glimpse of its face—familiar yet impossible, a twisted echo of someone she couldn’t place, stirring a buried memory from her lost past.

It was nice of her to be so assuring, though. I still didn’t know how to get the words out of my mouth. “Apparently,’ I said, inserting a big pause as I reasoned through my verbal options, “Liam has been having vivid dreams about the two of us going to the park, the zoo, etc., for years. He says he recognized me immediately as someone he thought he’d just invented in his mind, but obviously, that’s not the case. It seems like these dreams started well before I even realized I was a mage. Isn’t this whole thing… odd?”

He yelled, making the ground tremble, “I see you know a lot about the supernatural creatures but it would take more than a golden stick to kill me! I’m Alectryon, the all powerful immortal trickster.” I snarled, prepared for another fight, “Well are we going to fight or are you going to try talking me to death.” With a growl, he leaped to the sky like a fucking cat and rushed towards me, his talons razor sharp. I’m going to have to chop off his skin for that blow to the chest. He tried to swing for myneck, but I easily dove under my stake next to his midsection, and I saw black blood flow out of him. What the hell? He’s changing parts of his body in some way just to divert me. He’s mixing di