Chapter Text
It was rare that Berdly ever acknowledged he had a problem. Usually he’d go about things in his usual way, with near insane levels of blind confidence hoping that everything fell in place around him. And when that didn’t work he’d just call Noelle and ask her to help, because she’d always help. But not only did he really not want to call Noelle about this one in particular, he felt uncharacteristically shaky. He used to think that his confidence was among his greatest traits. It even used to be ranked no. 63 in his completely accurate list of “150 Things That Make Me Better Than Everyone Else.” But ever since that dream he’d been completely lost.
Berdly had plenty of dreams, he was great at dreaming. But it seemed like his raw, natural talent had bitten him in the behind this time. It was divine punishment for falling asleep in a hallowed hall of learning like the library. Doing so had cursed him with visions of things he wished to never see. It made him think horrible thoughts, thoughts involving Susan and… other things. He felt vulnerable, and weak, and respect for Kris of all individuals. And worst of all was how real it felt. Even days later Berdly wasn’t sure it was a dream. Even though it obviously was.
The most devilish side effect of the dream was that Berdly missed it. He foolishly believed that perhaps he’d have a similar dream again the next time he went to sleep. But he got nothing of the sort. Berdly hadn’t even dreamed since that time in the library. And each passing day he longed for it more and more. Here he was on a Saturday, a day spent almost exclusively on playing video games and getting with Noelle to make sure his homework was all A+ accurate, lying in bed.
Was he depressed?
Of course someone as smart as him landed on such a possibility almost immediately. He showed plenty of the symptoms but just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. So what if he hadn’t left his bed literally since he woke up? And who cared if he only managed to even wake up at noon? And who was to say that the strong urge to just cry was anything out of the ordinary? None of that meant he was depressed! Berdly wanted to hop right out of bed and do literally anything, just to prove his own doubts wrong. But instead he stayed there, staring up at the ceiling with a blank, sad look on his face.
Okay, maybe he was depressed.
But it wasn’t out of longing, he knew that much. He didn’t want to go back to that dream, not really. He may have liked some things about it, but those were all deceptive! The dream was configured to make him think he wanted it. Berdly was smarter than that, he’d taken that drug awareness class in Sixth grade and passed with a 97! He knew a thing or two about how addiction worked. Something harmful would masquerade as nice and comfortable to lure people in. That dream wasn’t a paradise, it was a warning sign!
At least that’s what Berdly insisted as he forced himself out of bed. He walked to his closet and examined the rows of perfectly ironed collared shirts. He always showered at night so that in the morning he could get the biggest time save in the getting to school speedrun. Although today he lingered on his wardrobe. Saturday was a day for taking things slow, but in truth he was more disappointed that his clothes were all so normal. He couldn’t help but think of the dream and the outfits he wore in that. There was, of course, his battle armor. He picked it out himself after insisting to Queen that he needed something befitting a knight. She showed him to her secret armory, which was cleverly labeled as a “garbage dump.” There he pieced together his armor and flung himself into battle against Kris and their lackeys.
But there was that other outfit, the one that replaced Berdly’s clothes when he first landed in Queen’s kingdom. He didn’t wear that one for very long, mainly because it didn’t suit him at all and was nothing a knight should have worn. Granted, part of him almost wanted to wear it again. He shuddered at the dreadful thought, a gamer alpha male such as him should never even consider that much… pink. It was clearly an error made on the part of the dream that he quickly rectified with his much more badass custom built super power armor. Just another sign of his ingenuity.
“Tch, wouldn’t be caught respawning in that trashy look,” Berdly chided, “Not when I could look so much more epic!”
He chuckled to himself in a way that almost didn’t feel pathetic. He attempted to get his mind off things by sitting down at his beloved PC. If there was anything that would free his mind from the dream addled funk, it would be his beloved hit MMO Penultimate Fable XIV. Of course upon seeing his character, a short, cutesy Faefolk he’d named Princess Pandamonium, he suddenly lost his drive to do his dailies or duty finder roulettes that day. Instead he grabbed his headset and settled in for some mind numbing Call of Shooting instead.
Berdly considered himself to be a more sophisticated gamer than the usual folk who frequented Call of Shooting’s lobbies. But sometimes he liked to lower himself to the level of peons and attempt to milk some fun by camping in deathmatch. And things went well with that up until the flaming began.
“You shoot like a girl. And now you just got boned.”
Berdly would have retorted about how nothing about an AR-15’s attack could be considered ‘boning’ if not for the first part of the insult catching him so off guard.
“Th-thanks,” was the best Berdly could muster amidst being teabagged by XxSkelebro96xX.
Thanks?!
Berdly rage quit in disgust at himself. His razor sharp wit was failing him too, this was nightmarish. Why did he find that insult flattering? Girls were gross, on average quite dumb if you discount outliers, and certainly not elite gamers such as him! He should have been repulsed at being compared to one, not… blushy at the thought. If not for how expensive his monitor was and how feeble his upper body strength was, he would have flipped his desk as a show of his elite gamer rage. Instead he just huffed as he stood up and paced around his room.
Something was broken inside of him. He was humble and intelligent enough to recognize that. This dream had done something to him from the moment it saw fit to drop him into Queen’s realm. There was only one way to fix it, at least according to Berdly’s undoubtedly highly accurate predictions and number crunches. He had to go back there, he had to confront the dream and demand it treat him like the alpha male he was!
“You hear me, you foul illusion? Let me back in! I’ll sue you for libel if you don’t!”
He sighed, calming down slightly. Gamer rage was beneath him, and there was no point in yelling. His mom and dad were both at work at least, so nobody would have heard it. Berdly turned to close his closet and go back to sulking in bed. But his closet was gone. No, not gone, but… different. The entrance was there, but instead of closet space, it was all black. Even as Berdly shined his phone’s camera flash on it he couldn’t see anything but black. It reminded him of the inky black of the computer screen that started his dream.
“Tch, I see you accepted my challenge,” Berdly mused with a smirk, “en garde, loser!”
With that he charged right in, or rather, charged forward, tripped over his backpack, and stumbled into his closet. It was just like in the dream, falling down into a dark chasm. And as he did an energy welled him inside of him. Apparently this was a power someone like him, a Lightner, had when going to this so-called “Dark World” of the dream. At least that’s what Queen said. Berdly frankly didn’t care about that. All he knew was that in the dream he was somehow even more powerful than usual.
Of course, his outfit changed too. Berdly shut his eyes, not wanting to watch as his rather fashionable shirt was replaced with the horrendous starter outfit he’d been shafted with. Surely it was meant for someone else, and Berdly’s badass costume was just lost in a glitch. That’s what he assured himself of as he plummeted and landed softly on a plushy pillow at the bottom of the drop.
Eventually he did open his eyes, confirming the outfit of his nightmares had indeed returned. His legs were covered in striped thigh high tights (maybe he could pass them off as tactical leg warmers designed for camouflage in a forest of pink candy canes), his pants were now a rather poofy skirt with a petticoat beneath it (he could probably make an argument about how kilts are actually more manly than pants), his top was now a rather flowy blouse with frilly ruffles on the sleeves (it almost looked like a swashbuckler’s undershirt?), and there was even a bow on top of his head (Berdly prayed that it was enchanted with some kind of boon, that would be the only way to pass it off as anything other than the girly accessory it was).
And the wand, Berdly had almost forgotten the wand. With a grumble he took the glowing green wand with a heart at the tip and shook it around like he was playing No More Zeroes on the Wii. After a bit of high skilled energy manipulation he managed to reshape the dinky little wand into the long axe he preferred.
“Well, now I just need to head to Queen’s castle to fetch my armor and I… can…”
Berdly looked around and realized that he didn’t recognize any of this. Gone were the neon signs and electrified roadways of Queen’s domain. Instead what he saw before him was a trail through the woods. Although everything from the trees, to the grass, to the pavement beneath his talons was fabric. Even the crescent moon in the sky looked more like a plush toy than the actual moon, even if it maintained a faint glow that illuminated the world around him. Wherever the dream had taken him this time, it wasn’t anywhere he’d been before. And unlike last time, Noelle wasn’t here. Queen wasn’t here either. Heck, even Kris wasn’t here, and Kris was all over the place last time!
Berdly swallowed nervously as they clutched their axe. Suddenly the dream felt a lot scarier than before. Yet, all the same, Berdly was at least a little excited. This was his chance for redemption! Last time Kris sealed some fountain and got to be a hero, this was Berdly’s turn! They twirled in place, brandishing their axe confidently before realizing that the flowy skirt made his triumphant twirl profoundly girly looking.
“Eheh, no more of that,” he muttered with a shake of his head, “alright Dark World! Get ready to GET PWNED!”