Imagine Dragons (updating so slowly that it's ridiculous)

Asleep Or Awake?

This chapter is dedicated to RainbowDashie14 for the amazing cover she made me! What do you think? This one or one of the others?

The bünêrâ (plural of bünêr) close around me, whinnying uncertainly, still unsure about me. Their horns drop into a defensive position, but I just raise my hands in surrender.
"I don't mean you harm."
They snort sarcastically, as much as a unicorn can snort. Their tails swish back and forth through the air behind them.
"Right. All Three-Color Two-Legs mean harm to us. The Queen was more straightforward, though. She didn't even try to cover up." It's the leader, staring down at me. "We won't hurt you, but we won't trust you either. There's nothing you've done to earn it, after all."
They gallop off, clearly done with me. I sprint as fast as I can to try to keep up.
"Wait! Please! Let me run with you! I don't know what's happening! Please! Don't leave me behind!"
The leader lets out a huff and spins around. "Why should I? I have not reason to trust your kind; the only other Three-Color Two-Legs I've met was the Queen, and she destroyed our land. Give me one reason my herd and I shouldn't run right now?"
Aha! So it is a herd!
"I'm not like her. You can't judge all of us; you've only met one. I'm not saying that we're perfect, but we aren't all like the queen. Really."
She snorts and rolls her eyes, which on a psychedelic unicorn looks somewhat psycho. "That's a great reason. Come on, let's go. We've wasted enough time."
I don't fall to my knees in the grass and sob; it's just a dream, after all. I try to lift up off the ground to fly, but I can't.
Another leap, another try, and no results.
I feel so rooted to the ground, like I'm really here. I'm really stuck in Fäntäsiä.
No way. I'm just dreaming. Chill, Stella. There's no reason to get worked up. Just try again, that's all.
At least, that's what I tell myself.
I push off, trying to jump again and again, but I can't. There's nowhere to go. I'm stuck, until I wake up at least.
I hope my sleeping form doesn't die from fear or something.
I sprint off across the field, between the jîr and the klôrnä. Away from the bünêr. They clearly want nothing to do with me anyway, so what's the point? I passed their test, but they still don't accept me. I don't blame them. The Queen was a terrible person, it seems.
My clothes seem to get duller and duller as I run along, and eventually I realize that the color isn't being leeched out of it; my skin is becoming a brighter color. A Fäntäsiän color that can only be described as a neon black (you need to see it to believe it) which is somehow brighter than my usual darkly tanned skin. I don't know what's happening, but soon the black will get to my face; I can see it slowly darkening all over my body.
Suddenly I start itching, like I've been dunked into a vat of starving mosquitoes. I stop running and start scratching at my arms and legs and especially my back, my nails taking my skin. Nothing I do helps.
I'm tearing away at the fabric of my thin Old Navy V-neck. Tears are showing up, and my tank top is visible; in some places even my bare skin. My leggings are being ripped to shreds.
The itching intensifies. My shirt and tank top fall to the ground in tatters, and my leggings are starting to peel off of my legs. I don't know what's come over me, but I don't like it.
I scratch at my back and realize that some fabric is hanging off of my arm. I move to brush it away, but then I freeze.
It's not fabric.
My arms are webbed to my torso.
They aren't bat wings or anything, and they're definitely too flimsy to support my weight, but they're definitely the beginnings of wings.
I flip out. WHAT THE HECK. My arms are attached to my sides, and Even though the webbing is pretty stretchy, it feels weird to reach over my head. I feel so restricted.
I'm smacking at the webbing, dancing in an awkward jumpy circle like the skin is nothing but a bug. And this is how the faeries - flôrâ - come across me in the middle of a Fäntäsiän field.
These faeries have stretched faces and wings like mine, but clearly more developed. They have vampire fangs and their skin has lighter spots so that it looks like bubbles trapped under glass. Their skin is all different Fäntäsiän colors.
When they see me, they let out a hissing, spitting cry, as one. I cross my arms over my chest, realizing that my clothes are in tatters on the ground. They're naked, but still.
They see my wings, and the hissing gets worse. "The unicorns accepted her, those idiots!" one neon green flôrâ said.
I decide that they might be able to help me.
"Why the heck do I have wings?"
They frown. "She doesn't understand our custom. Of course not."
"Yes I do! The unicorns only accepted me because I didn't die while the leader was trying to kill me!"
One of the younger faeries steps forward. "It's the new laws since the Queen. Now, you become more and more like us the more we accept you."
"But I'm just dreaming."
"You were. Before the unicorns accepted you. They're the link to us. You get our wings if the unicorns accept you. If we accept you, you get one of the tree's traits; none of us know what the other Fäntäsians have chosen to offer, so I don't know what you'll get if we accept you. After the trees it's the mermaids, then the werewolves, and then the dragons. And if you earn the dragon's trust, you gather some unicorn traits and then you really are one of us."
The faeries have made no move to shut her up. They're standing silently behind her. And I realize that they're giving me a chance. A chance to earn their trust, or at least their acceptance.
"What do I need to do?"
"You need to trust us. Completely. Run with us for a while, and let us act ourselves around you. We will treat you as our own. When we come upon an enemy, any enemy - something as great as a rival pack, or something as small as a hobgoblin - you will fight with us. And if you come out alive, its on to the trees with you."
I have one last question. "Will I ever wake up?"
"Darling, you aren't asleep, remember? This is reality now. Maybe you'll dream your way back into your world, but for now this is real and that is nothing but a distant, fading dream. Can't you tell?"
And I can. Bits and pieces of earth are slipping through my fingers. I don't know what's real and what's false.
I'm trapped.
"I'll come with you."