If you'r high 'n want to fly I can take you higher

Link to gallery: city of Takhmanta

more art and story from cursed city

In the shadowy alleys of Takhmanta, where deals are made with blood and secrets, one figure has risen to notorious fame: Zhora, a powerful witch whose lineage is as dark as the magic she wields. The daughter of a mortal man and a Zmora—a demon of dreams and nightmares—Zhora inherited her mother's unique connection to the world of sleep. Her origins alone made her a figure of mystery and fear, but it was her power over dreams that brought her infamy throughout the city.

Zhora's gift was extraordinary. For a price, she could reach into the minds of her clients, pulling their nightmares from the depths of their subconscious and banishing them forever. To the tormented citizens of Takhmanta—humans, ghouls, vampires, and even demons—this service was nothing short of miraculous. The city was a harsh and unforgiving place, and sleep offered little refuge. Nightmares were not merely products of fear, but often twisted manifestations of the darkness in the soul, amplified by the malign energy that pulsed through Takhmanta. To live free of these horrors was a dream in itself.

However, Zhora offered more than just the removal of nightmares. For those who could pay, she would replace the nightmares with the sweetest dreams imaginable. These dreams were unlike anything her clients had ever experienced—vivid, intoxicating visions of joy, peace, and pleasure. For those who had never known a moment of true peace in the waking world, these dreams became an escape, an addiction. Creatures who had never dreamt naturally—vampires and undead who never slept, or demons whose minds were tormented even in slumber—found themselves drawn to her, desperate to experience the sweet release of her magic.

At first, her services were expensive but attainable for the wealthy and powerful. However, the addictive nature of the dreams quickly spiraled out of control. Zhora’s clients, especially those who had grown dependent on her magic, began to crave the dreams more and more frequently, unable to face reality without them. They returned to her time and time again, often without the means to pay. And yet, Zhora never turned them away—so long as they could offer something of value.

As the demand grew, so did the desperation of her clients. Those who could no longer afford to pay in coin began to offer up their bodies as collateral. It became common practice for Zhora’s customers to sell parts of themselves—hands, skin, even eyes—to ghouls or undead in exchange for money to fund their dream addiction. The markets of Takhmanta soon became flooded with sellers offering flesh, organs, and bones, desperate to finance their next escape into Zhora’s dreamscapes.

This spiral of addiction left many in ruin. Some clients amassed unpayable debts, their bodies gradually mutilated and sold piece by piece. When they could no longer sell parts of themselves, they were left in the hands of Takhmanta’s cruel debt collectors—vampires and demons who took pleasure in enforcing the city’s brutal laws. Those unable to repay their debts were often enslaved, forced into servitude for the rest of their lives, or worse. Some, broken by addiction, were hunted down and killed by their creditors, their lives cut short by their pursuit of dreams that were never meant to last.

Zhora herself remained untouched by the chaos she unleashed. Her reputation only grew as her clientele expanded beyond the desperate and into the elite circles of Takhmanta. The ruling class and even members of the Parliament became her customers, each seeking to escape the nightmares that plagued them, both from their personal lives and from the weight of ruling such a dark, dangerous city. Even the city's King was rumored to have sought her services, paying exorbitant sums to erase the horrors of the battlefield and political intrigue from his mind.

Despite the destruction her magic caused, Zhora was never without patrons. She never forced anyone to come to her, she would say with a sly smile, claiming that she only offered freedom from the horrors of the mind. But she understood the depths of human—and inhuman—desperation. The truth was that her services were too alluring, too powerful to resist. In a city where everyone was already teetering on the edge of madness, Zhora’s magic was the last temptation, the final indulgence that many could not refuse.

As the years passed, Zhora amassed considerable wealth and influence, her power growing alongside her clientele. She became a figure of both fascination and fear, whispered about in taverns and back alleys. Those who had the means sought her out, while others cursed her name for the misery she wrought. Some spoke of Zhora with reverence, grateful for the relief she had brought them. Others viewed her as a predator, feeding off the weakness and vulnerability of the city's inhabitants. Regardless of the perspective, Zhora’s grip on Takhmanta only tightened, and her dark magic became another layer of the city's twisted, unforgiving landscape.

Zhora’s story is one of temptation, power, and the dangerous allure of dreams in a world where reality is a nightmare. In the end, she remains one of the most infamous and sought-after figures in Takhmanta, a witch whose magic offers freedom at a devastating price. For those who cross her path, the question is always the same: how much of yourself are you willing to sacrifice for a fleeting taste of peace?

Link to gallery: city of Takhmanta

more art and story from cursed city