Siena was playing a soccer match with her high school team. The memory was an old one, and the dreams proved to her that she hadn’t recovered from it yet. It was a cloudy day and chilly. She jumped up and down to get the blood flowing in her legs, shaking her hands at her sides. She never understood why such an active sport had to be played in winter. That didn’t stop her enjoyment of it. After all, she was the best offensive striker on her team, having scored more goals than anyone else.
She waited at the halfway line for the left mid-fielder to kick the ball up to her, but then cursed when the ball was stolen by the opposition’s center striker, who then closed in for a goal. Across the field from her, Kristie, the right-side striker, didn’t let her eyes off the ball. Siena didn’t understand how the blonde could look so pretty even in her dusty gray uniform, her hair tied back so it wouldn’t flick into her eyes.
Finally, her team’s defensive sweeper managed to tackle the enemy’s center striker before she could score, stealing the ball back and bringing it up the right side of the field toward them.
“Yes, come on,” Siena said. “Just get it up here, and I’ll do the rest.”
Although the sweeper was taking it up the field to Kristie, Siena sidled over, hoping that she would catch the opposing team off guard. The sweeper passed it before she got there, and the ball ended up in Kristie’s possession. Suddenly everyone was running, sprinting up the field, advancing toward the enemy goalposts. The parents on the sideline whooped and, at that noise, Siena’s pulse raced.
None of the opposing team’s backs were guarding her, unlike Kristie and the center striker. Not even the goalie noticed Siena standing there.
“Quick, I’m open!” she called. “Direct shot!”
Desperate with the attention the opposing backs were putting on her, Kristie kicked it across the field at her. If it was a high kick, Siena could have simply redirected it in with a header, or even if it was a sharp toe kick, she could have gotten it in time, but Kristie’s foot must have only sliced the top of the ball. It rolled across the field, the other team right behind it.
The left-wing defender put her foot on the ball to stop it and was about to take off, but Siena was already in motion, dashing, diving, foot sliding in an attempt to tackle the ball-thief. However, it wasn’t the Dream State, and she couldn’t jump as high nor kick as quickly. After all, unlike all her other dreams, this one depicted something that happened IRL.
Her cleats caught on the grass and mud, and, inches away from kicking the ball, her ankle rolled and hyperextended. Pain lanced up her hamstring. She had managed to cut off the back, allowing Kristie and her partner to converge. The goalie was rushing in now, but Kristie managed to dive in, teeth bared as her hair whipped back, and kicked the ball to the center. She tapped it in before the sweeper could get to her.
Only when she knew that they had scored did Siena grimace in pain. “Son of a—”
Kristie punched the air and whooped, but when Siena didn’t get up again, she rushed to her side. “Sen, you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Siena ground her teeth and tried to stand, but her ankle wouldn’t take her weight. Kristie pulled her arm around her shoulder, helping her to limp to the sideline. A sharp pain shot through her ankle every time she put it down. Their coach rushed up to them and checked her ankle for injury.
“This looks pretty bad. I’m taking you off the field. Sarah, take her place as left striker.”
“No, I’m fine!” Siena shouted, although it was obvious even to her that she couldn’t stand.
“Just admit it, Sen,” Kristie called. “You can’t keep up like that. You’ll lose us the game if you try.”
Siena gritted her teeth. All she could do was sit there and curse as Sarah took her spot. More than the pain from her ankle, more than the pain of Kristie’s words, was the pain after the opposing team scored two more goals while Sarah couldn’t score one.
Siena pulled off her Dream Engine. “Alright, that’s enough. I recorded the dream like you told me and that was it.”
She was sitting in a small room on a couch, her psychiatrist, Dr. Faraday, sitting across from her, having watched the recording on her tablet. After she had told her mom that she hadn’t been able to sleep without using DSD, she had been taken to the doctor, her mom believing she had insomnia. However, as soon as she had told the doctor that she kept having the same recurring dream when not using DSD, he had suggested she see a shrink. It was during one of their sessions that Dr. Faraday brought up Wona’s new software that could record dreams, and Siena decided to give it a try.
Dr. Faraday looked troubled. She had graying hair and thin-rimmed glasses. “So, that was the recurring dream that you mentioned?”
Siena gestured to the Dream Engine. “I wouldn’t have been able to predictably record it if it hadn’t been recurring, would I?”
The psychiatrist raised her hand. “I’m just saying it’s very interesting.”
“In what way?”
She leaned forward. “First you tell me: why do you think you’re having this dream?”
Siena ground her teeth. “It was an important game, and we lost. We could have gone on to the finals if we had won.”
“You believe your competitiveness is what’s making you have it?”
Siena’s brow furrowed. “Of course. I swore I would never lose after that!” She looked down. “It’s not like I could play soccer after tearing my hamstring, but I found something new to play.”
“You’re referring to the Dream State game?”
Siena grinned. “I’m the best, or at least I was until . . .”
“You lost in the game?” Dr. Faraday asked, her tone probing.
“No. It was close, but I beat him. It’s just the way I beat him wasn’t very . . . sportsman-like.”
Dr. Faraday nodded. “So, you think your dreams are a representation of your fear of losing against this person as a result of you not playing fairly? After all, you still won, right?”
“But it wasn’t on my terms! Even losing is fine so long as it’s on my own terms, but . . .” She nodded, feeling this made no sense. “And the dreams did start up after I fought him. I mean, what else could it have been?”
The psychiatrist brought her fingers to her lips. “Recurring dreams can be our brain’s way of trying to defend us against past traumas. To remind us of them so we never go through that pain again.”
“So my brain is fighting the pain I got from losing that match?”
“Perhaps . . .” Dr. Faraday leaned forward. “Are you sure it was losing that match that brought you so much pain?”
Siena looked down, unable to think of anything else. “It has to be.”
Dr. Faraday put her hands down. “I want you to think on that some more.” She reached up to her desk and grabbed a prescription pad and a pen. “In the meantime, I’m going to prescribe you some Zopiclone and recommend that you stay off of DSD until you’re sleeping normally.”
“Stay off DSD. Are you joking?” Siena stood up, fists balled. “I won’t be able to play in the Dream State without it!”
“It’s only a suggestion to help with your insomnia.” She handed her the prescription. “If your body is too used to DSD, then regular sleep will need to be coaxed. Just consider it. Not dealing with this now could have worse consequences in the long run.”
Siena’s jaw clenched as she took the piece of paper and stormed out of the room.
***
Less than an hour later, Siena returned to her small room in the halls of residence at the university where she was studying. Considering most of the lessons were held online, the purpose of the halls was more to kick young people out of the house and into something more squalid so they would be motivated to begin renting.
The major problem with this theory was, because of the Dream State, IRL accommodations didn’t really matter anymore. All one needed was a bed and a room that they wouldn’t be interrupted in, and suddenly it didn’t matter what their surroundings looked like because their dreams were more relevant.
On the wall of her room was a small shelf where she kept some of her old photographs. Having seen Kristie Tein in the Dream State, and as a Screamer for that matter, she had found the old photo of her high school soccer team to make sure she remembered her old friend’s face correctly. She had been right, and after seeing the blank look on her beautiful face, it only made her recurring dreams more poignant.
Kristie had gotten into Dream Games straight after she had, and they had both entered the Wona competition. Of course, always being the brighter of the two, Kristie had more of a flair for coding and game design, whereas Siena had just wanted to get better at the games themselves. She deemed this the reason Kristie had gotten into the program and she hadn’t.
After that, they had mostly lost touch. She still heard bits of news through the grapevine: that she had the chance to beta test the new Dream State Project, that she was in the second phase of the testing process, and that was the last she had heard from her. For all she knew, Kristie had been made a Hero rank player. However, after searching for her among their ranks, she never found her.
At first she thought Kristie was just too good for them and had moved on to better things. But then she had seen her face under the Screamer’s helmet outside the Lantis dungeon, and she knew exactly what had happened.
She stared at the photo, seeing Kristie’s beaming face among those of their other teammates. Her gaze dropped down to the Dream Engine on her messy bed sheets.
Screw this noise. I’m going to have some fun before trying out this new sleeping pill.
She sat down on her bed, picked up her helmet, and put it on. On her bedside table was a bottle of DSD diluted with soda. She took a swig and lay down, feeling the drowsiness being pulled over her like a warm blanket. The shifting blue menu screen came up, but instead of going straight into the Dream State, she pulled up her contacts to see who was online. Of course Efty’s name was lit up. She could always count on her faithful sidekick to be ready for some fun.
She felt herself grin. Who needed to contact someone when they could just track their whereabouts and pop up whenever they wanted? It looked like the girl was doing a shepherding mission out in the New Calandor fields. Siena pulled up her map that she could hack with the E4 function to teleport her to any dungeon she wanted, bypassing the hub towns. She located Frank’s player code on the map and selected that location.
With a stretching sensation, the lights of the menu screen flew past her and she appeared on the wide, grassy plains. To her left was a farmhouse that stood near an empty paddock. Scattered about the field were several crazy-looking sheep. Not only were they every color of the rainbow, but they weren’t just wooly. Some of them were covered in fur or feathers, and Siena watched a mid-sized avatar point toward a group of the colorful creatures.
She looked around, unable to see Efty. She pulled up her map again. Efty’s player code was supposed to be just north of her. She pulled out a compass from her items pack to see that north was dead ahead. She then took another glance at the female avatar trying to round up the sheep. She was wearing a leather hat and denim overalls covering a checker-patterned shirt. A dog that looked like a wolfhound ran to her side, and she watched the avatar bend down to give it instructions.
As she did this, Siena noticed a familiar braid fall from her shoulders, and Siena burst out laughing. “Efty, is that you?”
This caught the Tamer avatar’s attention, and she looked up and frowned when she saw Siena. There was no mistaking that frown; it was Frank.
“Hah!” Siena called and ran up to her. “You changed your Niche to the Tamer!”
Frank rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a Tamer now, and I look like a farmhand, have a good laugh.”
Siena did so, but not because of how she looked.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that funny!” Efty shouted.
Siena shook her head. “Oh no, I’m just glad I don’t have to make a new nickname for you, that’s all. Now F.T. can stand for Frank the Tamer instead of Frank the Tank.”
“Okay, sure.” Frank rolled her eyes. “Do me a favor and scare some of those sheep away from the hills. I’m trying to get them into that paddock.”
Siena grinned and saluted. “Howdy-doody, Efty. Will do.”
She dashed off toward the mountains, equipping her Ruby Edge. As soon as she came to where the sheep were trying to escape, she lashed out with two Shockwaves. The attacks had their intended effect, and the sheep turned about and began running in Frank’s direction. Meanwhile, Frank whistled to get her new companion to round them from the other end. Barking like a sheepdog, the large gray wolf managed to get them all to head toward the barn.
Siena noticed two sheep trying to slip between them. “Oh no you don’t!” she said, slashing two more Shockwaves to cut them off and send them back.
With her help collecting the stragglers, it didn’t take them long to get the sheep all fenced off, and afterward, they met up and Frank studied the Loyalty Points her pet received for the task.
“Thanks,” Frank said.
“So what was this for, anyway?” Siena asked.
Frank sighed. “Being a Tamer isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. You have to do obedience quests to make sure that the pets do what you tell them.”
“Seriously? Sounds like a pain.” Siena raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s so great about having a pet to follow you around?”
Grinning, Frank patted the wolfhound. “I think I’ll let Fenrir show you that for himself.”
She took a few steps away, and the dog began to glow, and then grow. As it did, Siena couldn’t help but give Frank an incredulous look.
“Fenrir? Seriously?”
Efty looked affronted. “What? You don’t like Norse monster names?” She pointed to the massive wolf after it had finished transforming. “I mean, look at him. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”
Siena shrugged. “I guess. A bit generic for a giant wolf, is all.”
As though disappointed by how unimpressed Siena was, the now-giant wolfhound began to scamper off.
Frank chased after it, calling, “Wait, come back Fenrir. Argh!”
“So much for obedience training,” Siena teased.
“I did say you have to do a few of them. I’ve only done two,” Frank called, and then shouted the command, “Return!”
Fenrir turned around and headed back, but shrank down to his original size the closer he came until the little wolfhound was the size of a regular dog. Frank knelt down to pet him and then fed him an item that looked like a biscuit, which Siena assumed was a necessity of the Tamer Niche.
“It’s a work in progress,” Frank said, and rose. “So, are you ready for your championship match with the up-and-coming Spellcaster?”
Siena lifted an eyebrow. “Sorry?”
“What? You haven’t heard?” Frank frowned. “Some Spellcaster won several rounds in the Coliseum in a row, going completely undefeated.”
Siena quickly pulled up the configuration menu and saw that she had forgotten to turn on her alerts after the last dungeon she had done. As soon as she turned it back on, several alerts showed up at once.
The one that caught her attention first said:
— COLISEUM ALERT: A NEW CHALLENGER HAS EMERGED! —
Siena swiped the menu away and grinned evilly up at Efty. “Okay then, what say we head to the Coliseum? Looks like I have to defend my title against another pretender to the throne.”