An Unhappy World

Spring had arrived in a flurry of colors, the world outside bursting with life as April ushered in warmth and renewal. But for Oliver Fairchild, the season felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of what once was, now cast in shadows of his own misfortune. Six months had slipped by since his return to the mundane reality of his life, each day a monotonous echo of the last. Oliver thought it would have been easy to forget what had happened before with the world unlike his own, but it had not.

He was back in his parents’ sprawling mansion, a grand testament to their wealth, yet Oliver felt like a ghost haunting its halls. The opulent décor—a gilded chandelier hanging over the dining table, paintings of dignified ancestors glaring down at him, and the polished marble floors—only served to highlight his own failure. He had once roamed the world as a travel writer, penning tales of strange and wonderful things of the world but that time was gone.

‘Your disappearance put is in a tight spot,’ his editor had told him only three months ago. ‘We can’t risk that happening again.’ He had been let go and in a way, Oliver couldn’t blame him. The young man couldn’t focus on the work, his mind drifting back to Lilith, the succubus, and the others he had met in the Breach Between. Now, he found himself relegated to the basement, working construction for his father’s company.

Coming to his parents wasn’t Oliver’s first choice but his girlfriend had dumped him, he could no longer pay rent for a city apartment and all the bills were coming due. He was lucky his parents let him stay, especially after his rant about the Breach Between in one drunken stupor.

The hardest part was the pity etched into their faces, believing he had simply snapped after sharing drunken stories that fantasy realm. This was going to be his life for awhile and he had to get used to it.

As he descended the stairs of their house, the chatter of rich guests filled the air, laughter mixing with the clinking of glasses. Tonight, his parents were hosting yet another soirée, their friends—those polished and pretentious pillars of society—eager to showcase their wealth and connections. Oliver braced himself for the inevitable questions, the sympathetic smiles, the forced encouragements to “buck up” and “get back on his feet.” Each exchange was a weight on his shoulders, a reminder he didn’t want.

Oliver made it to the bottom of the stairs, pivoted before entering the living room and slipped into the kitchen, hoping for a moment of solitude amid the chaos. The smell of gourmet food wafted through the air, but he felt little appetite. Instead, he leaned against the cool counter, staring out the window into the twilight sky, where the moon hung like a ghostly beacon. In that moment, he couldn’t help but wish for the familiar embrace of the Breach, for the chaos that had become his reality there, for the companionship of Lilith, Nina, and Misty.

Just then, a faint noise pulled him from his thoughts—a quiet argument somewhere down the hallway, followed by the sound of something tumbling. Curiosity piqued, Oliver pushed away from the counter, his instincts on high alert. He quietly stepped out of the kitchen and headed toward the staircase leading to the upper levels. As he ascended, the murmurs grew louder, punctuated by clumsy footsteps. Someone was clearly not meant to be here.

Once on the second floor, he spotted a figure darting down the hall going from room to room, a flash of dark fabric contrasting with the elegant décor. He squinted, straining to see more clearly. The figure wore a cheap evening dress that looked gaudy, an out-of-place sight amidst the polished guests milling about below. Heart racing, he took a deep breath, certain he was witnessing a theft in progress.

With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Oliver crept forward and, without thinking, lunged at the figure. He tackled her to the ground, the two of them tumbling onto the carpet, his hands gripping her arms. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded, breathless and bewildered.

As he pulled back, he was met with wide eyes—shimmering with a mix of surprise and annoyance. The person he was sitting on broke out into a big grin and squealed.

“TROPHY!!”

“Lilith? What…what…what are you doing here?” Oliver asked shocked.

“I don’t have time to explain or to have sex!” she exclaimed pushing him off her. “The Bone Lord sent me. You are being hunted by a Bloodreaver!”

The six months of boredom, misery, and wallowing evaporated like a morning mist. Oliver felt a thrill in his chest as he realized that his friend who he had thought he would never see again had not only come but had come to rescue him.

“Bloodreaver?” Oliver said offering his hand and hefting the succubus up. Her little black bat wings popped out and vibrated and stretched tearing the back of her dress. “Oh, that felt good,” she said with a sigh of relief.

Before the young man could press her for more, a blood-curdling scream erupted from downstairs, followed by a cacophony of chaos. Panic surged through him.

“Uh…” Lilith said looking down the hall and back to him. “That’s probably it.”

They both rushed down the stairs, their footsteps pounding against the polished wood. As they entered the main hall, the sight before them stopped Oliver in his tracks. One of the guests—his father’s business partner—had twisted grotesquely, his body contorting as multiple black, sharp legs erupted from his torso like a monstrous spider. The creature’s visage was horrifying, a grotesque parody of humanity.

“That’s the Bloodreaver?” Oliver yelled over the din of the panicking guests.

“Yes!” Lilith shouted, her eyes wide at the size of it. “And you need to be out of here!”

Oliver felt a surge of determination, his protective instincts kicking in. Instead of rushing out as Lilith had suggested, he rushed toward his parents, who stood frozen in shock, eyes wide with horror.

“TRROOPHHYY!” Lilith wailed trying to grab him but Oliver reached his parents. “Get back! Move away!” he yelled, ushering them to safety as the creature writhed and screeched, its many legs smashing into the ornate furniture, sending shards of glass and porcelain flying.

“Oliver!” his mother cried, tears welling in her eyes. “What is that thing?”

He did not answer, he saw that it was coming directly for him. His left wrist immediately felt warm and he looked down at the delicate bracelet hanging there. When he had crossed over, the living vine bracelet that the Wicker Goddess had given him had turned into a fine, silver bracelet. The silver was now pulsating as if alive.

The bloodreaver lunged, and Oliver narrowly dodged its grasping limbs. He shoved a nearby table into its path, the impact causing a satisfying crack. But the creature was relentless, turning its soulless gaze toward him, recognition flickering in its depths. Oliver’s heart raced; it knew that it was him.

Just then, an explosion of sound erupted from the patio door as tree vines shot in, lashing at the creature. Oliver looked surprised that the majestic oak outside in the yard had come alive, shooting its thick roots into the room. The broken door was a figure wearing a simple shirt and skirt, her green skin shimmered under the moonlight, her thick hair resembling vines cascading down her back; the twists of her wrist causing the roots to obey.

“Fernwyn?” Oliver said shocked. The Dryad he had met in the Breach, a vision of grace and power smiled at him and then used a thick root to slap the Bloodreaver across the large living room into the plaster wall. Her outstretched hands, she commanded the tree, and the vines constricted around the Bloodreaver, restraining its movements.

“This tree’s energy is limited,” Fernwyn said, her voice ringing with confidence. “We must finish this now.”

Oliver watched in awe as Fernwyn wielded the power of nature itself. The vines tightened, beating the creature mercilessly, its cries growing more frantic as it struggled against its bindings. With a final, powerful surge, the vines tore the Bloodreaver apart, leaving behind a gruesome mess on the floor.

Fernwyn stepped forward, surveying the remains, her expression of disgust. “Disgusting meat creature,” she grumbled, her voice low. “But we need to move quickly. The Plague King will send more to this realm. We must leave to protect it.”

The room was silent, shock settling in as Oliver’s parents gaped at the devastation, their world upturned in a single moment. “What the hell is happening?” his father finally managed, his voice shaking.

Oliver turned to his parents, the truth spilling from his lips. “Too much to explain. This is Lilith and this is Fernwyn---”

“The…the girls from your drunken stupor?” His mom said. “they’re real?”

Lilith stepped forward, her gaze imploring. “Oliver, you need to come back with me. The Bone Lord says that it is the only way to protect you from the Plague King’s horde.”

His parents looked at him, disbelief mingling with fear. “You can’t be serious,” his mother said, shaking her head. “This is insane!”

“I wish I could explain more, “ Oliver said, the fear of losing his parents filling his mind. “But I can’t right now.”

“Oliver—” his father began, but Oliver cut him off.

“No! I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t go through this again. Please, trust me.”

Lilith didn’t waste any time. She pulled out a strange spherical device that had a glowing green crystal dancing around on its axis. “Hold on tight!”

Oliver grasped Lilith’s hand, feeling a rush of energy enveloped him as the world around them began to dissolve into shimmering light. He glanced back at his parents, their faces blurred by the radiance, fear and worry etched deeply into their features.

“Don’t worry! I’ll be back!” he shouted, his voice swallowed by the bright void. And then, with a jolt, they were gone.

As the darkness of the Breach Between enveloped him once more, Oliver felt the familiar weight of the air settle on his shoulders. He felt the gravel under his feet and heard the strange noises of the Tortured Forest around him. Oliver looked up and found the large silver moon high above, casting its spectral glow, ready to lead him into the unknown once again.