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// Adventurers and Ballroom Dances 
// Story: Carsapone Dreaming 
// by Algol 
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	Her sleep was broken with clammy steel pressing gainst the neck. Drowsily she moved to swat it away. Grasping hooves propelled her up into a shove against the wall. Rocked open by the blow, blinding rays pierced her eyes. Rays of thought rose then dawned into panic when the force behind the knife yelled. "Who do you work for? Why are you here? Did Dr. Caballeron send you?"


*incoherent wheezy noises*  


The shadow of a floating pegasus cutting through raging sunlight roared. "Answer me!"
"Well.. She's a respectable traveler. A tourist come to visit Carsaponne!" The grey maned mare smirked knowingly, then tilted her head. The gleam of the helm stabbed at Trixies sight. "Hardly a treasure hunter are you? Not even a convincing lie?"

The mages thoughts scrambled as the brown furred pegasus, lean as a feline, gave a solid glare. "Trixie was stupid. What do I do?"
"Come to despoil great Carsapone? Steal the crown of Belon the Immortal? The runes of Aliran? I bet you read one dusty tome and thought you could be like those dashing adventurers in the stories? This place isn't safe for you, amateurs die the way you do all the time."
The pressure relaxed, giving time for thought to collect in Trixie's head. "Wait, were those treasures she knows about? Who is she calling an-"
"Answer me. Now." The professional rolled and snapped into the posture of a sneer. The blade began to loosely dance on Lulamoon.
Blurting nervously, "Yes. Yes it's true! Are you an artifact hunter too?". A whisper expelled through a forced grin. "`You are a competent and graceful hunter. Mayhaps you assist Trixie and be rewarded well by her?"

Rudely dropping her into the sand, the assailant hopped away. Between crackling laughter she proclaimed.
"You? Help me? Do you even know which ziggurat contains the treasure of Belon? Anything about what you're doing? You'd slow me down, where are your supplies? I work best alone, especially when I'm not having to babysit and protect amateurs." 
"Stop laughing! Trixie could destroy you if she wished!" 

The adventurer took a step to Trixie. In a monotone she decreed. "Go home if you know what's best." A quick left jab smashed into Trixie's snout. "I said go home." Lulamoon paused and then lurched to punch back but was tripped off her hooves. "I said go home." The mare hovered above Trixie crossing her forelegs in front of her coat. Trixie lay in shock for enough time to notice the sand seeping into her fur. A cold fury seized her, forcing her to turn to contemplate the loathsome hunter. "How Dare You."

"I don't have time for this." 

Like a slingshot hurled over the walls the professional adventurer flew, naturally of course, since the great and powerful Trixie didn't have time to react. Who? What?

I don't like what you're implying. This be a good story, a true one this time. Don't tell me you read that pulp trash. Okay, bit of what I told were embellished. I'm a man of honor. That I'll admit.

Check out the poetry of Omar Khayyam of Neighshapore, that'll set ya on the right path. Buck, what happened next? You ruined my flow darnit. Meet me in a couple days. Bring a couple bits for the liquor and I'll share you the tale of the dread city of Carsaponne. The land of the anti-sun, the false and fey, by what was once Hali and the dancing court of- Out by the hat shop. To the left of it. Yeah, same street as the clock-tower. Well okay. Go then.

Ah, there your are kid. Drink slower this time, that was a shitshow last week ya know. *Ahem* Gotta get in my storyteller voice. Come on, let's get out of sight of the street. Sherrif'll be all up on my flank if he sees me drinking with ya. Used to be friends with em back afore he thought it okay to befriend the folk trampling our orchards. Never saw eye to eye with em on that issue. Anyway.

Grabbing her hat and with a few words of derision for the pegasus, she began to walk along the wall and look for the gate. Morning from the night had flung the stone that puts the stars to flight. And Celestia risen in the east had put the towers up above in a noose of light. Near the wall, piled high, had shed the grit of time. Trixie walked along the outer edge of the wall searching for an entrance. Though straight and solid as of single polished stone, she was dizzy gazing up to spy the yonder crenelations. It was her eyes refused to see the way they curve an warp and fault of her orbs that a sick trickled from her mouth. A noxious yellow slurry, it's what happens when a person hasn't eaten in a day, drank overmuch or views the walls of Carsapone up close. She stumbled through forgotten sands drifting 'neath a tyrant sun and after a bit of time reached the gate. 

It was small. Scarcely wide enough for a single pone to pass. Jutting round the portal, stone was carved into spiral and at the tunnels end a dot of light invited her. She squeed in excitement, then quickly gained composure. All her dreams lay beyond the tunnel. Cold was the air and dark was the passage through. Her nervous footsteps echoed 'pon the hardbacked sand, pale blue hair flowing in the grasping breeze. 

She stepped into the massive courtyard paved with rainbow coloured cobble, sheening with a film of translucent sand. Among intersections of winding roads were spheric buildings made of gleaming bronze, all stacked upon each other as if grapes. Dotted mongst the spheres were gems each shining with the glow of lost enchantment, all arrayed without pattern. Undulating softly were crystal pillars in ever-lurching crescent rows. 

Whilst surveying the scene, a deep and friendly voice began to boom which shocked her into fright. "Trixie! Welcome! Welcome home! Welcome o' Traveler! Enjoy your stay in Carsapone!" The magepony began to back back into the portal. Her courage thought better of it. 
"Who are you? What sorcery do you wish to fool Trixie with? How do you know her name?"
No reply.

It was then that from the spheres rippled several ponies. Within a minute the courtyard held some several hundred. Bejewled with crimson masques they glode upon the cobble and in pairs of two, stallion and mare, they thus began to dance. "It must be illusions again. Some way to frighten or confuse her. As if I would fall to such parlor magic!" Trixie proclaimed. She began to walk through the crowd and not a single one did notice. In dead languages they spoke as lovers do. With a well timed magic flourish to match her rondo, a unicorn bedazzled while above two pegasi did fly about in aerial Each faded away like will-o-wisps as Trixie touched them 'til bumping into a stallion. He twirled to her and curtsied, saying with the timbre of a sonor. "I'm am sorry my lady for I did not see where I was going." His pale brown coat fell down to well groomed fetlocks. A face divine yet hidden by a crimson masque of scale and feather. 

"I must say that you are rare. A mare of upmost beauty. Give my compliments to the avant garde who designed your hat. And what a fine lady the wear! Certainly you are... of noble birth?"
Unusual it was, an illusion which did flatter. Trixie started as to question but then he placed a hoof upon her mouth.
"Please oh dear, words are vulgar things so we must speak in dance. Will you be mine if even for a single dance?"
Little harm in indulging oneself Trixie thought. It had been so long since a cultured stallion had taken interest even if he was nothing but a spirit. Grabbing by the frontward hooves he held her in a standing gait. She wobbled with unease on hinward hooves but he held her. Gliding with precision, working with her stuttering gait he began to craft a masterpiece of tango. 

"Who are you?" Trixie said in awe. It was an apathetic sing song way he spoke. "I am but a dancer, that we all are, for it doth please the lord Belon." 
"Belon? The immortal?" Dipping down he began to lead a waltz.
"He is the one of many names for we are but figments of his dream. And oh beauty is his dream! And I hope he joins us soon. With Lady Kalria they do enjoy a ballroom dance. Now this once I must ask you and I wish not to offend..."
"Yes?" Quickly spun and in a bow, his body pressed against hers softly.
"My lady." Leaning to her ear as if to peck her neck.
"I see you have no mask."