[DDJ] Chapter 4 — Aqua Afina 

Note from me: Next chapter will be exclusive in the patreon tier for a while. Enjoy~

The air crackled with raw tension. I was back in Asteria’s study, a hot chocolate in my hand, sitting in Tara’s lap whilst she glared holes into everyone present. The only one who seemed unfazed was Lunaria, who was actually tapping her feet to the music playing in her elf-earbuds.

“So?” Tara asked, her tone cold as stone.

I expected Asteria to take the first step, but it was Kaya who spoke first.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible.

“Speak louder,” Tara demanded, her voice cutting through the room.

Kaya, apparently not used to being treated like this by Tara, seemed close to tears.

Asteria sighed. “My daughter bears no blame. She had no idea what I was about to do. Do you really think she could have stopped it?”

I felt Tara tremble with anger. “She still could have tried, could have actually spoken up. There were so many things she could have done! I brought Lia into the coven because I thought it was the safest place for her, but I was utterly mistaken.”

“No, it is still the safest place for her,” Asteria argued.

If I weren’t on Tara’s lap, she probably would have jumped up by now. “And how the fuck is that supposed to be true?! You tried to steal from her, harmed her, and basically threw her into the hands of that bastard.”

Asteria pinched the bridge of her nose. “A slight miscalculation, nothing more. I had to be convincing. I had to test her power and see if she was truly worthy of the relic.”

Tara’s mouth fell open in disbelief, too stunned by how casually Asteria treated the whole situation. I probably would have freaked out too, but thanks to the hot chocolate—which was freaking delicious, by the way—and the way Tara made me feel safe, I remained quiet.

“Is that what we are to you?” Tara spat, squeezing me tighter. “Numbers? Pawns in your grand game?”

For the first time, I saw anger flare up on Asteria’s face. “Do not speak to me like that, child. You know nothing of the sacrifices I’ve made for this coven, for all of us. I have lived a very long time, and I have to think of the bigger picture. If the relic fell into the wrong hands, it would be fatal to our coven. That is a risk I will not take.”

“And yet you almost did. YOU made Lia fall right into his hands. It was sheer luck that nothing worse happened,” Tara shouted. I could taste her outrage, the depth of her disappointment in the coven. Her trust had been shaken to its core. I coiled my tail around her leg, hoping it would calm her.

Asteria remained quiet, her expression shifting from anger to regret. Then, something stronger surfaced—sadness, desperation.

“Everyone, leave the room. Except Lia and Tara,” Asteria ordered.

Kaya hesitated. “B-But—”

“NOW!” Asteria snapped.

Visibly hurt, Kaya left, giving me and Tara a quick apologetic look—it tasted real.

Lunaria was the last to leave, closing the door behind her. The room fell into silence. The only thing I could hear was the steady rhythm of Tara’s heartbeat.

Asteria stood, walking toward a bookwall. It looked like she was grabbing a book, but then—click.

Slowly, a shelf opened, revealing a hidden passage with a downward spiral staircase.

“Follow me,” Asteria said. It sounded less like an order and more like a plea.

Tara nudged me off her lap. I let out a small protest but complied.

“You should leave the cocoa behind,” Tara whispered softly in my ear.

I shook my head, unwilling to part with something so delicious.

A quiet chuckle left her lips. “Lia, dear. I’ll make you another one. I promise.”

“Muuh,” I protested but begrudgingly set the cup on the table.

“Thank you, cutie. Let’s go.”

As we stepped into the passage, the bookshelf slid shut behind us. The moment it closed, crystal torches flickered to life, bathing the staircase in a warm orange glow, similar to real fire.

“Where are we going?” Tara asked.

“To the sanctum,” Asteria answered.

Tara frowned. “Isn’t that, like… really deep down?”

“It would be, but this staircase is enchanted. As we descend, so does the staircase itself. It folds dimensions like an accordion. Nasty spell to maintain without leaving traces,” she explained from ahead.

Now very unsure about walking on this kind of staircase, I grabbed Tara’s hand. It was warm, soft. She seemed surprised by my assertiveness but reassured me with a smile.

Even with Asteria’s explanation, it still took us fifteen long minutes of utterly destructive cardio. By the time we reached the bottom, I was exhausted. But after everything that had happened today—not to mention all the reality-hopping—I blamed it on that and not my lack of regular training.

My mind snapped back to reality when I ran face-first into Tara’s back.

“Ouch,” I mumbled, touching my nose. I was about to ask why she stopped, but then I looked ahead.

Nestled in the heart of this colossal tree stood a weeping willow. It stood eerily alone, its long, spectral leaves hanging low, swaying without wind. Its bark was smooth and dark, laced with veins of dimly glowing amethyst, pulsing like the heartbeat of something impossibly old. It felt wrong—not in a way I could name, but in a way that made my breath shallow and my skin tighten. Tara was gripping my hand even harder, fear thick in the air.

The atmosphere was already heavy—thick like sleep, like a dream that refused to end. And beneath the willow’s tangled roots, something gleamed.

“Come,” said the Matriarch, her voice eerily quiet as she stepped forward. So did we.

Neither Tara nor I spoke, too stunned by the sheer energy radiating from the willow. My mind was still stuck on the fact that there was a massive ancient tree inside an even bigger ancient tree.

Suddenly, Asteria stopped and looked at something. I followed her gaze.

Beneath the roots of the weeping willow, a gleaming crystal was embedded. It pulsed with shifting hues, pulling me in.

My hand slipped from Tara’s—she tried to pull me back, but something stopped her.

I stepped closer, drawn toward the crystal. The willow’s roots curled around it like skeletal fingers, absorbing its glow. And then I saw it—something inside, caged, confined.

Closer and closer, my feet not stopping.

I knew this feeling. It was like the smoke mirror.

The shifting hues of the crystal were an ever-changing labyrinth of refracted dreams and distorted nightmares. But that was only the surface.

I stood before it… when did I cover the distance? How long have I been standing here?

Then, my hand touched the crystal, and I looked beyond—inside.

Something was caged within. At first, it looked like a fox. But wrong. Too long. Too lean. Its body sleek like liquid shadow, its fur not fur at all, but shifting strands of mist and moonlight. Its tail swept through the hardened crystal like an ink stroke in water, curling at the edges as if it could slip away into freedom at any moment—a ghost wisp of silver.

And those wings—not quite feathers, not quite smoke. They jutted from its back in jagged layers, glimmering with reflections of star-shimmer and forgotten dreams, cradling the creature, shielding it.

But this wasn’t all. When I moved my hand, its eyes followed me. They glowed like molten gold, mesmerizing. Only then did I notice something else, tucked beneath one of its wings, piercing through its body—a spear.

It seemed to be made of pale mistletoe wood, deceptively delicate. Its shaft was smooth as polished bone, tipped with a glistening, poison-green thorn-like point embedded halfway into the being. The longer I looked at it, the more it unsettled me, as if it wanted to drain all life and happiness from me.

“The Everpierce,” Asteria said, stepping beside me. “A weapon made to hunt dream demons—old and vile as humanity itself.”

“Who is this?” Tara asked, her voice gentle, caring.

Asteria turned to me, deep sadness in her eyes.

“Who do you think this is, young Lia?”

I looked back at the dream demon, resting in the luminous depths of the crystal, waiting for release. My tail flicked as I tried to taste the emotions in this place.

Regret. Pain. And love. A deep, overwhelming love for—

I took a step back, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.

A wave of sadness radiated from Asteria, mixing with my own. Tears welled in my eyes. Now I understood.

“This dream demon… she… sh-she is your wife,” I whispered.

Tara clasped her hands over her mouth, unable to believe the words I had just spoken.

Asteria turned back to her imprisoned wife, placing a hand on the crystal.

“Kaya hasn’t seen her mother for two years. That’s how long she’s been here. Kaya doesn’t know. I—I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her. How was I supposed to explain it to her? How do I tell my daughter that I failed to protect her mother, the love of my life?”

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, instead, I lied. I kept it a secret, searching for a way to save her before it was too late. Then you came along.

“With a relic powerful enough to undo what those vile cultists did. What your family did. I got desperate. When I saw that power before me—the simplest solution to my pain—I reached for it. But the book rejected me.

“Only then did I realize what I had done. How desperate I had become.

“I would search for another solution if I could. But I can’t leave this place for too long. I have to protect it. To protect my family. My coven.”

Asteria turned to me, her gaze unwavering.

“I feel terrible for what I did. But I won’t apologize for it. If I could turn back time—if I knew it would work—I’d do it again without hesitation. Even now, if I thought stealing the relic from you would save her, I would. But I can’t.

“My only choice is to help you grow and hope that you will choose to help me… and this coven.

“I may have lost your trust, but my words are true. I won’t harm you. I will even protect you from threats when I can—that is my promise.”

My tail flicked from left to right as I tried to figure out how to respond. What she said was true—I could taste it. She had laid her emotions bare before me.

Slowly, I started, “I will… try to help. If I can, if I can save your wife, then I will try. But only if you give me a place to stay. If you personally train me. If you help me stop the Circle—stop my father and uncle.”

It was as if a massive weight had lifted off Asteria’s shoulders. Her entire demeanor changed. “Yes, of course. Stopping the Circle is my second priority anyway. After all, they were the ones who did this.”

My mouth fell open. “H-How?”

“The other coven…” Tara mumbled behind me.

“Correct,” Asteria said. “Tara already told you that many beings are looking for you, right? Those same beings are fighting us—over territories, over ranks, over power. One of those groups, a small coven of upstarts, aligned themselves with the Circle. I have no idea how an alliance like that even works, but it does—and it took us by surprise.”

My stomach twisted. Just how far could my father’s evil and hypocrisy stretch? If I could even call him that anymore. I felt Tara’s arms wrap around me, and I leaned into her embrace. It was a comfort I welcomed.

“We can’t tell Kaya,” I mumbled.

Tara hummed in agreement. Sure, I hadn’t known her for long, but if she learned the truth now, it would only give her false hope.

“We have to wait until you’ve grown powerful enough,” this amazing girl added, echoing my thoughts.

“Thank you,” Asteria said, her voice unusually sincere. And then, for the first time I think in forever, she bowed before someone—before me.

A sudden yawn escaped my lips. Only now did I realize how exhausted I truly was.

“We should head back,” the Matriarch offered.

I nodded.

“Also,” Asteria added, “Tara should show you your room. I prepared it while you slept earlier. I hope you’ll like it~. Ah, and before I forget—she should also show you how to properly retreat your dream-form. You’re constantly draining your mana, and that’s not the best idea on this side of the world. And I have the feeling that she would be the best for this task.”

My mood slumped, but I didn’t reply. Tara seemed to notice and whispered into my ear, her voice as sweet as honey, “Don’t worry, cutie. It’ll be fine. I’ll be there for you either way. My. Cute. Girl~.”

For a moment, my brain shut down. My face burned, and I turned to face her. She was smirking.

“Not fair,” I mumbled and buried myself in her chest.

“So adorable,” Tara teased, completely ignoring my really real suffering.

Asteria groaned audibly. “And I thought Kaya was bad.”

I didn’t know what she meant, but it didn’t taste harsh—more like… no, I had no idea.

“Let’s follow her,” Tara nudged.

“Mhrm,” I mumbled, earning a giggle in response.

- - - - - -

When we left the office, Kaya was still there, worry in her eyes. Before she could even speak, I did.

“It’s fine. I forgive you. We haven’t known each other long enough for you to step in for me like that anyway. And from what I’ve gathered, you wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway. Sadly, I can’t speak for Tara. But I hope she forgives you too. I know you two are good friends, and I don’t want you fighting because of… well, me.”

“Hush, you. You are not just someone, okay? You are special—at the very least, to me—so don’t talk about yourself like that,” Tara admonished, flicking my forehead lightly.

Then, she turned to Kaya, now joined by Maria. “I’m still mad at you. But after our… talk with your mother, I understand better. I expected more from you though, especially after I told you how much Lia means to me. So, you’re on dish duty and cooking for two months, and then we’re fine.”

“Two months?!” Kaya yelped. But after another stern look from Tara, she groaned in defeat. “Fine…”

“Wonderful! Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have to show little Lia here her new bedroom~.”

“Oh? Ooh!” Kaya and Maria responded at the same time.

I looked at them, confused.

“Have fun~,” they chimed in unison as we passed.

H-Huh?

“Don’t listen to them,” Tara muttered, pulling me along with her, her hand wrapped firmly around mine.

I could’ve sworn I saw a hint of red on her cheeks.

Gosh, I must be really tired.

- - - - - - 

While we made our way to my new room—which, honestly, I was pretty excited to see—I was also dead tired. At one point, Tara insisted on sweeping me into a princess carry, ignoring my very clear—and very loud—protests.

I still remembered reaching the portal room, but after that… my mind just blanked out for a bit, something I honestly didn’t even think was possible.

“Hey, Lia,” a soft voice called.

“Mm?” I mumbled as I slowly opened my eyes.

A cute angel greeted me—or rather, a demoness.

“Oh, a cute girl?” I murmured dreamily, only to realize I wasn’t dreaming at all. I was still very much in Tara’s arms… inside the tree.

Fumbling, I tried to wriggle free, but froze the moment I felt her tail wrap around mine.

“Eek!” I gracefully squeaked.

“We’re here, silly,” Tara teased, still not letting go of me. Thankfully.

We stood in front of a door made of a single, solid gem, its surface a deep-ocean-colored aquamarine.

My eyes gleamed. “That’s… beautiful.”

Tara nodded. “It really is. I was surprised to find it earlier when I came back. Even if it’s on a different floor than mine… we could have been neighbors~.”

Something about the way she said that made warmth bloom in my chest, and without thinking, I nuzzled into her shoulder.

“Let’s open it,” my demonic dame announced.

“C-Can you put me down first?” I asked hesitantly.

“Not. A. Chance,” she shot back instantly.

Without further ado, she opened the door.

…

…

…

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Tara asked.

I nodded, too stunned to speak.

…

…

…

“Isn’t this a bit too… you know?”

I nodded again.

It truly was.

Just. Wow.

I had never imagined a bedroom could look like this.

“I mean, Asteria told me she named this room Aqua Afina—The Dreaming Abyss, but this… I’m kinda jealous.”

I completely understood her sentiment. The room breathed like the deep sea itself—an endless, shifting world suspended between waking and slumber. The moment we stepped inside, the floor rippled beneath our feet, a vast ocean held in impossible stillness. Walkable yet fluid, its surface stirred only by glowing bubbles rising like reverse rain, drifting toward the vaulted ceiling where they burst into shimmering stardust.

Beneath the glassy expanse, a mesmerizing world unfolded—bioluminescent fish, both eerie and adorable, wove slow circles through an alien reef, their glow painting shifting constellations across the water’s surface.

At the heart of the room rested the bed, an island of comfort. It was massive, cocooned in blankets looking soft as seafoam—if they weren’t actually made from seafoam itself. Pillows of every size and shape were piled high, while an army of shark plushies—each bearing the distinctive shape of the Blahaj I had heard about in school—lined the edges, accompanied by their fantastical kin, lncluding a leopard shark. The bedposts, carved from dark mangrove wood, twisted like roots reaching into unseen depths, their surfaces embedded with pearls that gleamed like stolen starfiree.

Suspended throughout the room, violet bubbles floated lazily, each cradling a different fish—a school of bettas with tails like liquid silk, tiny seahorses curled in sleep, spectral koi trailing astral ribbons as they drifted through the air.

The walls shifted like an ever-changing tide, deep blue and aquamarine blending seamlessly, flickering with the iridescence of mother-of-pearl. Faint shadows of unseen leviathans loomed just beyond perception, vanishing the moment I tried to focus on them. Were they here to protect me… or something else?

Against one wall stood a desk and mirror, their surfaces carved from aquamarine and ocean-hued gemstones, flickering with captured light from the abyssal deep. The mirror, its frame an intricate lattice of coral and obsidian, did not always reflect reality as it was—sometimes, it revealed sunken cities, dreamscapes, or fleeting glimpses of a dream’s shifting form, much like the visions I’d seen when traveling from one dream to another with Tara.

The desk, smooth as polished driftwood, was scattered with trinkets—seashells, quills made from the spines of sea creatures, and ink that gleamed like bioluminescent jellyfish.

Above, the ceiling stretched into an endless ocean sky—twilight blue, speckled with swirling nebulae of glowing plankton and the silhouettes of phantom sea creatures gliding through unseen currents. Were they the same leviathans from the walls?

Jellyfish lanterns pulsed with a soft, otherworldly violet glow, their tendrils swaying as though caught in an eternal tide, while bubbles drifted like scattered stars across the vast ceiling, reflecting the abyss beneath

“I-Is this really my room?” I finally asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Tara answered, her tail wrapping even tighter around mine.

Forgetting the room for a second, I focused on my demoness instead. “Wait… how are you in your demon form right now?”

“I shifted, of course. I wanted to show you how to shift back,” Tara explained. “Inside the tree, it doesn’t drain much mana since we’re connected to the otherworld. But when we leave for the city, you’ll need to learn how to switch back and forth, or you’ll waste too much mana if something serious happens.”

“How do I even feel mana?” I asked.

Tara snickered. “Here, let’s stand in front of that—fuck, that mirror is amazing. Uh, just… let’s stand in front of it.”

It wasn’t really me walking, more like her carrying me and then dropping me in place.

As soon as I stood there before the ornate ocean mirror, my inner turmoil seemed to cascade.

I had known for a while that I looked different. I had felt it in the way my body moved, the way my tail swayed behind me, unfamiliar and yet mine. In the way my fingers sometimes traced the curve of my horns when I thought too much, lost in absent-minded habit. I had seen the flickers of my form reflected in the water’s surface when I wandered through the dreams with Tara, always distorted, always unclear.

But I had never dared to look. Not directly. Not in the dream realm, where reality was fragile and ever-shifting with the fear that I might never want to go back into reality, dreading that the dream was only a dream in the end. But everything changed…

Now, standing before the mirror, I had no excuse. I took a breath—steady, unsure—and lifted my gaze.

The girl staring back was… wrong. Not in an unpleasant way. Not in a way that made my stomach churn in revulsion. But in a way that left me breathless, suspended between awe and unease. It was different from the image in the smoke mirror which had only shown me lies. This, this was so much more than I expected. Much more… beautiful, fantastical. 

My hair, impossibly long, cascaded down my back in waves of pale platinum hue, shifting like flowing water and made more hair carry itself wilder, more untamed. Feathery tufts framed my crown, blending so naturally into the silk-like strands that glimmered violet, iridescent and shifting like a captured nebula that they seemed almost woven by the wind itself. It wasn’t just hair anymore—it was something more, something that felt alive, as if shaped by both dream and nature. I was surprised that my head didn’t sprout ivy at this point. 

My eyes… They were not even distinctly human. Slitted,—a mix between fox and dragon—glowing faintly beneath the soft light, a shade of molten gold that seemed to swirl when I blinked. Something ancient, something unknowable flickered in their depths.I blinked again and only then noticed the silver-gold shimmer of my eyeshadow, accented with a hint of forest green. I could lost myself in my own eyes.

And then—gah, those breathtaking horns. 

They curved backward in an elegant arc, ridged and layered like something sculpted by an artisan that was touched by their unattainable muse. Their dark-blue azurite surface interrupted by intricate grooves and deep textures. They were neither smooth nor uniform but carried the weight of something majestic. The tips shimmered with the faintest gleam of gold. Now that I looked closer, delicate traces of gold glowed between the grooves, subtle yet undeniable. It was as if my horns had been etched with regality, their design exuding the quiet majesty of a crown—one befitting an empress.

I swallowed. My skin, pale as alabaster, looked flawless at first—but there was something there, something just beneath the surface. It was too smooth, too perfect, and yet along the curve of my collarbone and trailing behind my ears, tiny clusters of feathers sprouted, delicate and soft like an owls. .

I flicked my ears, feeling an unfamiliar sensation as they twitched in response. They weren’t just fox-like—no, there was something more to them, something that reminded me of an owl. As I looked into the mirror and reached up to take in the full picture, my fingers brushed against soft, downy feathers, layered delicately along the edges.

Unlike the smooth fur of a fox, the owl-like feathers carried a different kind of texture—lighter, finer, almost weightless, yet thick enough to provide warmth. They were layered in a way that made them feel almost silken, each individual plume overlapping the next, blending into the natural contours of my ears. When I moved, they reacted instantly, picking up the faintest tremors in the air.

I had read about how owls could hunt in complete darkness, their feathers designed to pick up the smallest shifts in the wind. And now, I could feel it too. The ocean air that was all around me in this room brushing against me wasn’t just empty space—it carried subtle movements, tiny disturbances that my ears could sense before I even fully turned my head. These ears were something else—something more. Keen, instinctual, a perfect fusion of beast and something beyond, something untamed yet eerily aware. I loved them, I loved them so much.

That was when my lips parted, and I saw them.

The subtle glint of my canines. A little too sharp. A little too predatory.

My breath came in short, uneven exhales. I barely registered the flick of my tail behind me—different, not like the ones I had seen before on the others. Similar, but distinct. Mine.

The clothes I wore suited me, but they, too, were unfamiliar. Soft, flowing, delicate—crafted in deep blues and greens that shimmered with the rest of me, as if made of liquid silk. The fabric clung to my petite frame just enough to underline my form without overwhelming it, swaying like waves with every subtle movement.

I swallowed again, reaching out, fingers brushing against the cold surface of the mirror.

The reflection did the same.

I had known. I had always known. But knowing wasn’t the same as seeing. And now, I couldn’t look away. All this time I ignored the change, I simply savored the feeling of being me before without really looking. Always too afraid. 

Not anymore. I loved the person in this mirror. She was me. SHE WAS ME!

A wonderful cute feminine giggle left my mouth and I was happy. Simply happy. 

I looked at Tara, my eyes practically screaming, Look at me, look at me!

She smiled at me—probably the warmest smile I had seen from her so far. It made something in my chest flutter.

“Okay, okay, little Lia,” she said, shifting effortlessly into instructor mode. “Before we talk about mana, I think it’s easier to explain how to shift between forms. It’s one of the most essential skills for us dream demons. Or, well… basically any being from the otherworld, I guess.”

“D-Do I have to?” I whimpered, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. I only knew that I loved this form. And somehow, the thought of leaving it filled me with dread.

A hand cupped my cheek. “Don’t worry, Lia,” Tara reassured me gently. “I don’t care what form you take. I know who you are on the inside, okay?”

“O-Okay,” I murmured, leaning into her hand for a moment before focusing back on the mirror.

“So, for starters, close your eyes and imagine you’re dreaming. Then, picture yourself zooming out—as if your dream is floating in the middle. Treat it like a room, or a small orb,” Tara instructed.

I followed her words, closing my eyes and imagining my dream world—this room, my new room. I pictured it as a small puddle, containing the vast, endless ocean-like space I stood in. A shift ran through me.

“Good, good. Keep going. Try to zoom out more. Imagine your hands cupping your dream—like how I cupped your cheek,” she guided.

The thought of her hand on my cheek actually helped very much.

The ocean of my dream rested in my hands, the tides spilling over my fingers like water scooped from the sea.

“Keep going~.”

The waves settled. The tides calmed.

My dream, now shaped as Aqua Afina, was slowly encased in something I couldn’t quite grasp—like a globe. Then, it was contained. I could feel it. I had changed.

“Now,” Tara purred, “open your eyes~.”

I did.

And—

“Did my hair grow longer… wait, did I get smaller?!”