When we can't dream any longer, we die. —Emma Goldman

You lead a double life, alternating between reality and fantasy. Caught in the middle ground between dream and wakefulness, you are neither wholly fae nor wholly mortal, but burdened with the cares of both. Finding a happy medium between the wild and insane world of the fae and the deadening, banal world of humanity is essential if you are to remain whole.

Such a synthesis is by no means easy. Mortal affairs seem so ephemeral and so trivial when you stand amid the ageless magnificence of the Seelie Court. When you don garments spun of pure moonlight and drink wine distilled from mountain mists, how can you go back to polyester and soda pop?

Alas, you have no choice. Although your faerie self is ageless and eternal, your mortal body and mind grow older and less resilient as you move through life. Sooner or later, nearly all changelings succumb to one of two equally terrifying conditions: Banality, the loss of their faerie magic; or Bedlam, the loss of their mortal reason.

But is this fate inevitable? Can you retain your child-like wonder while fighting against the frigid Banality that seeks to numb your mind and steal your past? Can you ride the currents of the Dreaming without being swept away in the maelstrom of Bedlam?

Tragically, you are alone in the mundane world. No mortal will ever understand the depth of your alienation, strangeness, and uniqueness. Though you may try to communicate your condition through art (and many have tried and failed), only those with faerie blood will see, understand, and appreciate what you are.

An exile among exiles. Lost among the lost. A stranger in every crowd.

Hail, fellow traveler—welcome to the Dreaming.