This Ascent to Divinity is Lewder Than Expected

7.25 – Dreams at the Academy I

There was another task Zoey had put off—if not for as long as solidifying her bonds with her two girlfriends and confessing the truth of her feelings.

Fe.

The sheepgirl artificer was someone Zoey was quite fond of and probably the only person for whom she had significant affection that had been left behind in Mantle. It wasn't unreasonable that she hadn't been immediately willing to uproot her life. Sabina had done so, but she was intertwined with Zoey, being her alchemy teacher and also benefiting from a livelihood sense.

Unfortunately, for all its magic, long-distance communication was limited in this world. Zoey didn't know if the highest echelons of society had means of instant message transportation—and it seemed likely there were some artifacts like that—but there was certainly no 'magic post office'. Keeping in contact was limited to regular mail, which could take days or weeks depending on who they hired to carry the message.

But Zoey?n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Zoey had other ways of getting in contact.

[Potion of Expanded Consciousness] - Open the consumer’s mind to the dream world, allowing external influences to delve deep into one’s psyche.

Zoey had yet to explore everything the potion was capable of. Like many of her underutilized items and potions, that was simply because of how hectic her life was. She had too much going on to utilize everything to the highest degree, or to the degree it deserved. Nevertheless, she'd come up with a practical use for her dreaming potion: contacting Fe.

The potion was limited, though. At a minimum, it required her target to be sleeping. So, Zoey waited until late at night to drink the potion—after some, ah, celebrations with Rosalie and Delta—and thus she expected the sheepgirl to be asleep. Then again, it seemed possible the dedicated artificer was the kind of person who would often be burning the midnight oil if a project had caught her fancy. There was also the risk of the dream realm limiting links by distance; she had no idea. It was a gamble twice over.

But hardly an expensive or risky one. So, Zoey tipped the vial back and cuddled in with her two girlfriends.

Delta's amused voice was the last thing she heard before she drifted off, consciousness sapping away all at once.

"Say hi to her for me, by the way. And by that, I mean fuck her brains—"

Zoey could intuit Delta's request, even if she wasn't conscious enough to finish hearing it.

Just like that, she was floating in a black void. Splayed out beneath her was a sea of multicolored orbs, each representing a dream of a different type. Her attention was drawn to the pink ones, which represented dreams where the dominant emotion was lust. A myriad of other colors pervaded the dense spiritual space making up the spiderweb of Mantle's sleeping citizens. But intriguing as exploring that landscape might be, Zoey had other goals.

She looked down at herself—though she had no self, being a floating spirit of nothingness, no shape or form to represent her body—and found a collection of lines emanating from her. Each was a relationship. These lines were how Zoey had forced contact with Ephy, once. Though that prismatic string was gone now, Ephy denying such easy access a second time. She preferred 'rituals'.

The links to her girlfriends were strongest, but they were faded and grayed out since they were awake. Though likely not for much longer; they had all settled down for the night.

Focusing on the lines gave her a sixth sense for who they represented. Finding Sabina's, Zoey discovered the alchemist was asleep. Her dream was, curiously, golden-colored. Curiosity tickled at her to go find what gold meant—glory? Excitement?—but she had more pressing aims.

Because, identifying Fe's line, Zoey found she was asleep as well. And accessible, despite being a great distance away. Her dream link was thin and strained, either because of the distance or because they were only friendly acquaintances. For all that she liked Fe, they didn't know each other that well. But it was still available.

Gripping onto the dream-link, she let herself be tugged toward her destination. The line had a pull of its own. She accelerated with every passing second, the collection of thousands of dream orbs blurring beneath her.

A surreal trip later, she arrived to Treyhull. It felt like it had taken both minutes and hours—it was hard to tell how much had truly passed. Like sleeping, she thought amusedly.

She found herself face-to-face with Fe's dream orb.

It was a strange color—half pink and half burnt orange. Orange was a common color among dreams; her best guess was anxiousness or 'restless energy'. That was an instinctive assumption, at least, and in a world built from her consciousness, why wouldn't instinct be correct?

Pressing into the bubble, into the murky depths that she could almost but not quite make out, she met resistance. But all at once, it yielded, and—

—she was falling.

***

She woke up. That wasn't the right word; she transitioned. Once more, she had a body. Everything felt real again, her physical senses reconnecting. Except, at the edges of her vision, things were—slightly fuzzy, for lack of a better term. She was in a dream still, and she knew it in an instant; though at the same time, everything felt genuine. A strange mixture of sensory inputs.

She took in the environment.

She was in a university hall. Or that was the comparison her brain made, since, as had happened a number of times since arriving in this world, it wasn't fully familiar or identifiable. Tall, arched windows allowed sunlight to stream into a hall shaped like a great amphitheater, with tiered rows of wooden benches that ensured everyone had a clear view of the—presumed—professor below. The lectern he stood in front of was a simple, sturdy podium made of dark stone, carved with magical runes that amplified the professor's voice and carried it out toward his students. Behind him, a chalkboard displayed a variety of diagrams and formulas. Students filled the benches, a mix of races and species. Most were human or various animal-kin, wolfgirls or foxgirls or similar, though some were less human: golems and such. All were listening attentively.

"I won't belabor the point," the short, bearded man was saying. "I trust that each of you has adequately prepared for today’s demonstrations. Remember, these evaluations are critical, comprising sixty percent of your final grade. A failure to present will, regrettably, result in an automatic fail, nullifying four years of dedicated study and effort—no matter what excuse you may have." He chuckled. "I'm sure none of my students are so recklessly irresponsible, though."

Zoey blinked. It was rather blunt and heavy-handed for a professor to say, and an unforgiving policy.

"No, no," a voice muttered to her side. "Where is it? This can't be happening."

Zoey stirred in surprise. The voice was familiar. Turning in her seat, she laid eyes on her neighbor. It was, as shouldn't have surprised her yet somehow did, Fe.

The sheepgirl artificer was rummaging through a backpack set to her side. Frantically. With mounting panic. Seeing how this was her dream—and the droning professor was emphasizing how disastrous missing this assignment was—Zoey put two and two together.

"I know I packed it. I know I did. Where is it?"

A stress dream. Academically flavored. Zoey sympathized; she hadn't cared much about her grades growing up, and even she had sometimes been a victim of similar nightmares. They were rare, admittedly, but still easy to sympathize with.

Especially since Fe was more academically minded than her. She was a working professional in an important and lucrative wayfaring career: the identification and modification of magical items. That had to be the equivalent of, say, some engineering field back home. A rigorous and respected education.

In this world, academic institutions were surely more exclusive and competitive than the ones Zoey knew, since back home, attending college had been nothing special. Here, higher education was a privilege—or hard-earned reward—rather than an expectation. So failing or being held back a semester would be devastating.

"What happened?" Zoey asked, leaning over. "What'd you forget?"

The sheepgirl stiffened, then looked up. For a moment, her jaw hung open.

"Zoey? When did—when did you join the Academy? I didn't know you wanted to be an artificer."

There wasn't an ounce of suspicion in her voice, only confusion. She had accepted the impossibility of Zoey sitting there next to her with complete and total acceptance. Zoey raised an eyebrow. Dream logic clearly held sway. She could probably give any explanation, and Fe would accept it.

Briefly, she wondered whether to play along or break Fe out of the stressful dream. If it had been only for the sake of alleviating Fe's anxiety, imaginary or not, she would have done so, of course. But something else tempted her not to.

Because the dream had been tinted pink along with orange when she'd first gone in. What did that mean? This dream was clearly going somewhere. Fe was in a particular mood. How lust would work into a stress dream about forgetting a crucial project at home, she didn't know.

But Zoey thought she might be able to play a part. Or maybe take it over. To Fe's pleasure. She didn't have explicit permission to invade Fe's dream and give her a good time, but she knew Fe well enough that she would be appreciative afterward. She had implied permission.

Resting her cheek on her fist, Zoey grinned at the sheepgirl she'd been missing the company of for the past week. "Oh, you know. Just took an interest." She nodded at the backpack Fe still had a hand inside. "What happened? Did you forget your project at home?"