> Terror Incognita
>  by FanOfMostEverything
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Singularity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Luna glided through the glittering starscape of the collective unconscious. Tonight's duties in the waking world were complete, and so she had retreated to her chambers and projected herself into this strange realm, where every slumbering mind went to dream. Each dreamer was represented in the strange space by a star, and ponies were but a slim fraction of the total number. Luna's practiced eye could discern the harsh intensity of griffons' dreams, the immense flamboyance of minotaurs', even the subtle shades of Diamond Dogs' rocky planetoid dreams, which rarely featured an open sky.

But Luna's ponies were the ones she had sworn to protect, and each night, she sought troublesome signs in the sun-like glimmers scattered throughout. Often, they dimmed. On occasion, they flared. Only when she had failed utterly did they go nova, and such a cataclysm had not happened since before her banishment.

With the aid of the Dreamguard of chiroptera that had formed in her absence, such a tragedy would likely never happen again. The bat-winged ponies had kept the lore of the strange cosmos over the course of her absence, using sheer numbers to compensate for less individual potency. They still surveyed the dreamscape at all hours. Luna could see some now, flecks of shadow flitting among the stars, eager to aid their princess however they could.

It had been one of the Dreamguard who'd reported her current destination. Luna considered the dream-star as she approached. It had dimmed and reddened, the usual sign of nightmares. However, it had also warped the psychic space around it, a lens-like effect that made the stars behind it dance and sway as she came closer. This was exceedingly rare, caused not by fear or anger but obsession. The sheer conceptual mass of whatever had consumed the dreamer's mind threatened to overwhelm the light of dreams, leaving a darkness from which no hope could escape.

As Luna scrutinized the dream, her gaze darted to a nebula of ever-shifting color that lay in the distance. She could sense no taint of chaos about the dreamer. Whatever the matter was here, Discord seemed to be holding to the mutual noninterference agreement they'd made after his alleged reformation, keeping to the territory he'd staked out upon his release.

Luna allowed herself a sigh of relief, then focused on the star before her, drifting closer. The scout had been wise not to interfere on her own. While the chiroptera could withstand the psychosomatic heat and light with which dreaming minds defended themselves, this one's gravity would've torn apart any astral body less resilient than an alicorn's. Even Luna gritted her teeth as the tidal forces strained her dreaming form, pulling her like a torture rack.

The instant Luna broke through, the pull vanished, and with it the vast slumbering galaxy. In their place was this dream as the dreamer was experiencing it. Save for a few details, the surroundings were vague and hazy.

Luna considered what stood out against the undefined background. She first noticed the double doors, and she had little choice in the matter. They were immense, each carved from a single block of wood taller even than the redwoods of Califoalnia, free of any knothole or flaw. And yet, even as Luna landed, she could discern every detail of the doors' many elaborate carvings. Virtually every endeavor known to ponykind was represented, each masterfully crafted and lovingly polished. The doors were titanic works of art, but they were incomplete; the center of each was unmarked, unvarnished, unfinished.

Luna quirked an eyebrow as she considered the doors, then essayed a circuit around them. She could move to their other side, but there they did not seem to exist. If they did, they were invisible and intangible, and thus the distinction was academic.

As Luna moved back where she could see the doors, she found that once she could see them again, she could hear them as well. From behind the doors, voices of fervent passion, quiet patience, and aged wisdom argued back and forth. From the sound of it, they would be at it until the stars went out. Still, the words were mostly indistinct, muffled by the gargantuan barrier. What little Luna could understand raised more questions than they answered: "Family," "shame," "real," "can't."

Finally, Luna noticed the filly slumped just outside the doors, so tiny that she seemed almost an afterthought. Judging by the hopeless way the child gazed at them, her ears and bow drooping, she felt as insignificant as the doors made her seem.

Luna quickly recognized the dreamer. She was Apple Bloom, sister of the Bearer of Honesty, among other things. Luna approached her. The princess's hoofsteps were muffled against the indeterminate surface, but Apple Bloom's gaze did not waver even when they were right next to one another. "Impressive," said Luna.

"Yeah," sighed Apple Bloom, not moving her head. "A lot more than me."

"I disagree. After all, I didn't come for them."

Apple Bloom blinked and finally turned away from the doors. Her eyes widened as she bolted to her hooves. "Princess Luna?"

Luna stood proud, but she allowed herself a smile. "Indeed. Well met by moonlight, Apple Bloom."

The filly looked around, taking in the lack of surroundings. "If you say so. How come there ain't nothin' here but these doors?"

"Your mind is too preoccupied to set the scene," said Luna, "and thus our surroundings are as you see them." She looked to the doors. "However, I do not understand what has you so transfixed."

Apple Bloom gaped at her. "Y' don't? Sweetie said y' knew what she did with 'er sister's hat."

Luna nodded. She remembered that intercession well. "I did, yes, but the event was fresh in her mind. Even as I smote the cackling cloud tormenting her, I saw her memories of sabotage." She looked around. "But you? Whatever it is that troubles you so, you hide it even from yourself. I can only guess." Luna relaxed a bit and leaned down. "Family troubles, perhaps? As Sweetie Belle can attest, I have some experience with the plight of the younger sister."

Apple Bloom scowled. "It ain't that! Ain't never that!" The mists began to churn and writhe. "Ah'm an Apple! We're good to our kin!" Shadows deepened in the distance, and with them feelings of innumerable presences.

Luna backed away a few steps. "Peace, Apple Bloom, peace!" she cried. She could take on whatever mental defenses were being mustered, but doing so would leave the filly even more vulnerable to being dominated by her obsession. "I never meant to impugn your family's honor. I seek only to help you."

The filly snorted, then gave a nod. The presences faded and the mists calmed. "Alright, then." A hint of a grin crossed her muzzle. "Truth is, sometimes Applejack can be too good t' me."

Luna smiled. "I know what you mean. Celestia so mollycoddled me in the weeks after my return, I thought I would go mad." She shook her head. "But we digress. In your dream, I can see what you see, hear what you hear, but I can not feel what you feel. I need your insight. Something has so enthralled you that you have crafted one of the largest, most elaborate mental constructs I have ever seen. What is it?"

Apple Bloom turned to take in the doors. "Ah made those?"

"Yes, but—"

"They're really some o' th' biggest mento-thingies y've ever seen?"

Luna stamped a hoof. "This is no time for pride, child. If we do not suss out what you hide from yourself, you could suffer a fate as dark as mine."

"Wait, what!?" Apple Bloom bolted away from the doors, putting Luna between them and her. "Yer sayin' if Ah don't open them doors, Ah'll become a Nightmare?"

"In essence." Luna considered the filly and realized she couldn't tell whether the look of fear was directed at the doors or at her. She took a deep breath and bowed her head. "Forgive my impatience, Apple Bloom. I do not wish to see another suffer as I did."

"Th-that's okay, Princess." Apple Bloom gave Luna a smile that didn't look completely forced, then moved to consider the doors. She tilted her head as she took in each carving, walked around them, even walked through them from the nonexistent side, popping out of the wood like a phantom. She flinched each time an intelligible word came through the doors, little twitches that even Luna's keen sight barely made out.

Finally, Apple Bloom tried pushing against one door, then the other, then both. Each time, she got less than an inch of movement and a deep wooden clunk. "Didn't think it'd be that easy," she muttered as she sat back down. "Still, Ah ain't seein' hinges, so this should be th' push side."

"It is a rare and precious dream where everything is as it seems," said Luna. "What else have you gathered in your assessment?"

"Well, far as Ah can tell, each carvin' is somethin' Ah've done with th' other Crusaders." Apple Bloom pointed a forehoof at several carvings in turn. "Newspaper writin', chicken wranglin', surgery—"

"Surgery?" echoed Luna.

"It's okay, Sweetie's still got plenty o' stuffed animals." Apple Bloom brought her hoof to the center of the right door. "But right there, smack in the middle, there ain't nothin'. That's prob'ly where mah cutie mark should be." She straightened up. "Where it will be." After a moment, she drooped. "Some day."

Luna considered this for a time. "How long have you and your friends been seeking your marks?"

Apple Bloom hesitated, looking anywhere but at Luna.

"Fate dark as mine."

The filly's face twisted like she'd bitten into a lemon. "Couple years."

"And in all that time, have you truly never felt the hoof of fate? Never once did your thoughts and motions seem to move along the path of your destiny?"

Apple Bloom huddled in on herself. "Well, there was that time Ah gave mahself cutie pox."

Luna quirked an eyebrow. "No other time? Nothing even close?"

"N-n..." Apple Bloom shivered and chewed her lip.

Applejack's voice sounded through the door, one word perfectly clear: "Liar."

Apple Bloom's bow exploded.

Luna reared back, taking flight as red ribbons sprouted from nowhere, some reaching out to tether themselves to the edges of the dream, others binding Apple Bloom like a spider's meal. Only the filly's eyes and nose were left unbound. Tears flowed down her face as she met Luna's gaze.

The alicorn waited until all seemed calm, then a moment more. When no further tendrils issued forth, she drifted closer to Apple Bloom. Luna sighed as she hovered. "At the very least, you have given me something I can understand. You are bound by fear. You believe that something you know is so terrible that you refuse to acknowledge it."

Apple Bloom nodded as best she could, less than an inch up and down.

"It won't go away just because you pretend it isn't there," said Luna, her own eyes glistening with tears. "That only makes it worse. You let it worm into your heart and fester there, until there is no room for anything else. But it still isn't too late, Apple Bloom. The truth will set you free."

"Mmmph?" Apple Bloom went from weeping to incredulous in an eyeblink. "Hmm mmmphl?"

"I do not need to hear your confession." Luna backed away. If there were another burst, she'd be glad of it. "You are the one who must accept what is."

Apple Bloom shut her eyes. For some time, all was still. Even the voices behind the doors fell silent. Then the ribbons slackened, exposing her mouth. "Ah... Ah may—" Her bindings snapped tight again. She gave a pained yelp as they smacked against her muzzle.

"No 'I may's," said Luna, shaking her head. "No maybes, no perhapses, no room for doubt. In your heart, you know it to be true. Voice that surety."

The filly gave another tiny nod. The ribbons relaxed more slowly this time, sullen and suspicious. There was a palpable hunger in the air, a sense of desire, of need.

Apple Bloom swallowed and took a few deep breaths. Finally, she looked in Luna's eyes and said, "Ah think—" She fell silent and squeezed her eyes shut. The fabric did nothing. She peeked through one eye, then the other, then risked a faint smile. "Ah think Ah know what mah special talent is." More ribbons loosened, a few releasing her completely, dangling like long tongues. "But Ah know th' other Crusaders don't, an' Ah got no idea what theirs might be. Heck, Scoot's taken us halfway 'cross Equestria, an' she ain't got nothin' t' show for it." Few ribbons were still wrapped around Apple Bloom, and she only hung a foot above the surface.

Luna landed—though she kept her distance—and nodded the filly on. "And what else?"

Apple Bloom didn't speak right away, not until a few fallen ribbons began to twist and sway, moving like eels, their ends pointed at her. Eyes wide, she blurted out, "If Ah'm right, then mah talent's got nothin' t' do with apples!" The ribbons went limp, as did Apple Bloom herself. Eyes downcast, she said, "Even if Ah finally get mah cutie mark, then there ain't gonna be nopony who's gonna want anythin' t' do with me, friends or family."

The last ribbon unwound itself, setting Apple Bloom down almost gently, then crumbling to dust along with the rest of them. Still, the filly staggered when her hooves touched the ground, and when she straightened up, her legs shook as though barely able to support her. Mane loose, ears flat, eyes wet, she said, "So that's the secret. Ah'm afraid t' finish what Ah've started, and Ah'm afraid of what'll come after."

Soft dark wings enveloped her. "You are a very brave little filly," said Luna.

Apple Bloom clung to the princess's barrel and sobbed, "No Ah ain't! Ah ain't nothin' but a coward an' a liar an' a terrible friend an' a worse sister an'—"

"Shush." Luna added her forelegs to the hug and pecked the filly on the forehead. "You are none of those things. There are few fears like that of the unknown. Your heart quails in terror, but you know not why or what of. But to know that your fear stems from that very uncertainty is the first step in conquering it."

Apple Bloom looked up at her and took a long, messy sounding breath through her nose. "Really?"

"Does it seem so bad, now that you've said it?"

"Ah still bad fer wastin' time—"

Luna tutted. "I would hardly call spending time with friends a waste." She pointed at the doors. "Those would be far less impressive if you had embraced your destiny the moment you suspected it. You have acquired a breadth of experience that some ponies many times your age cannot claim."

Apple Bloom took in the doors, the carvings of everything from alchemy to zamboni repair, the memories that each brought to mind. Her lips curved in a shaky smile. "Ah guess."

Luna released her and moved back a few steps. "I trust you know what you need to do now."

Apple Bloom nodded and stood, still facing the doors. "Only thing Ah can do." She approached them and rested a forehoof on the right door. She shut her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and pushed.

The door swung open with much creaking and groaning, though its motion was smooth. Apple Bloom winced with every protest of the hinges. When at last the door came to a rest, a sound just as creaking and menacing came from the impenetrable shadows on the other side:

"Apple Bloom! You built them dangblasted doors, it's yer job t' take care of 'em!"

The filly jumped to attention. "Right away, Granny!" She turned back to Luna and gave a quick bow. "Thank ya, Princess."

Luna beamed. This nightmare was ending, and Apple Bloom was transitioning to a more pleasant dream. "No thanks necessary, Apple Bloom. It is my pleasure and my duty to aid dreamers in need."

Granny Smith's voice issued forth once more. "Get a move on, filly! Big Macintosh broke th' dang plow again!"

"Well, guess Ah can't keep 'em waitin'." Apple Bloom cracked her neck. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Apple Bloom," said Luna. "May you have no need of it."

Apple Bloom strode inside, the darkness holding no fear for her. As she passed through the door, it silently swung shut behind her. Once the latch clicked closed, wood began to vanish from the centers of both doors as they started carving themselves into completion.

Luna was left alone in the misty antechamber. She lit her horn, bringing her will to bear against the unformed pseudomatter of the dream. "By My authority as Princess of the Night, I claim my dominion over this fantasy," she intoned. "As Mistress of That Which Is Not, I command these mists to part. In the name of the Moon, conform to My desires!"

Exactly none of that happened.

Luna nodded. "As I suspected," she said, wearing a thoughtful frown. "Again, impressive." She spread her wings and took off, away from the dream and all other dreams with it.

Luna's body stirred as her spirit reentered it. She raised her head from within the nest of cushions she called a bed. Her personal chambers seemed to fade into a starscape not unlike the collective unconscious, though this was but an illusion that obscured the walls half as thick as she was long, through which only those she chose could pass. Two of those chosen knelt before her, both chiroptera clad in the barding of the Night Guard. The eye on the mare's chestpiece was shut, marking her as one of the Dreamguard.

Luna collected herself, shifting the cushions to a more dignified arrangement and sitting sphinx-like atop them. "Rise, Captains."

They did so. "How did it go, Mistress?" asked the mare.

Luna shook her head. "I do not know, good Fantasia." She noted the tome at the stallion's hooves. "Guarding Dark, I see you have retrieved it."

Guarding nodded. "Did it myself, as per your request and against my better judgement. You know I hate the castle catacombs. We should set fire to everything down there that'll catch and use it to melt down the rest."

"So you have said many a time," said Luna.

"And I'll keep saying it. I'd do it all myself if I thought I could."

"Your order has been keeping dark and dangerous artifacts out of the common ponies' hooves since before my madness, Guard-Captain. I established what is so terrible that it cannot be suffered to exist. All else we keep, for it can and may yet be put to a higher purpose, as shall the Eschatology tonight."

Guarding Dark glowered, but dipped his head somewhere between a nod and a bow. "As you say, Mistress."

Luna returned the dip exactly, then took the book in her magic. It was professionally bound, appearing little different from one of countless codices in libraries across the nation. It was dozens of copies removed from that bygone first pile of frantic scribbles and hasty sketches. Still, spellcraft had perfectly duplicated every quill stroke of the original. Luna opened the text, and the desperate hornwriting was exactly as she remembered it. "The work of Eschaton lives on," she murmured. "The greatest mortal onieromancer the world has ever seen, transcribing her visions even as she dreamt them."

"In verse, no less," scoffed Guarding Dark. "If you hadn't met her yourself, Mistress, I'd call the whole thing a hoax."

Fantasia glared at him. "But she did. Show some respect."

"You lead your guard in part because of your devotion, Fantasia," said Luna, flipping through the Eschatology, "but Guarding Dark earned his position by being unafraid to challenge my sister. The courage to disagree with an alicorn is a rare and precious thing, one that both she and I seek to cultivate in those close to us. Between the two of you, I seek the balance I lacked in the past."

Fantasia shifted uneasily. "As you say, Mistress."

"In any case, I have found the relevant passage." Luna cleared her throat and began to recite the scrawled lines.


"And armed and armored in strange ways
With magic unicorns ken not
Their leader strides across the land
And hundreds die with every trot.
She bears no horn, she spreads no wings,
No royal title can she claim.
Yet all who would oppose her find
That death awaits them all the same.
Like both her catastrophic peers,
Outmatches she the Moon and Sun.
A stubborn and unyielding force
That spells the end of everyone.
To those who would make false these words,
Know well this harbinger of doom:
With crimson mane and eyes gamboge,
Yellow's the hoof that plucks life's bloom."


Luna sighed as she shut the book. "I traveled the world, seeking a soothsayer who could offer an alternate vision. None could, from the callowest runecaster to the oracle of Dolphi. Even that fraud Home Remedy liked the death and destruction too much to make up something."

"And you're sure this filly is the one?" asked Fantasia.

Guarding Dark scowled. "The name seems almost too on the muzzle."

"I am certain," said Luna. "All three of the Crusaders have matched the prophecy. Scootaloo ejected me from her dream; 'Her will can never be restrained.' Sweetie Belle pursued me through the greater dreamscape, even wandering into another's mind before I guided her back to her own; 'A tainted muse that slips through thoughts.' And now Apple Bloom has created a dream immutable to me; 'A stubborn and unyielding force.' All three have done the impossible. I should be supreme in the realm of slumber, save perhaps Discord, yet three fillies have matched or overcome me. If this were coincidence, then we would have even greater concerns at hoof."

"You are still recovering from the Elements," said Guarding Dark. "You will be for decades yet. They could just be gifted."

Fantasia gave a small smile. "If nothing else, a dreamwalking unicorn would be quite the addition to the Dreamguard."

Luna shook her head. "Much as I wish that were the case, it is not. My full potency has yet to return, yes, but most already has. The difference should not make a difference against foals, even the dream-gifted. We cannot afford to deceive ourselves with false hopes, my captains. If we do nothing, these three will be the end Equestria, if not the world as we know it."

"Unless Eschaton included our actions," Guarding noted. "She even directed a few lines at us. What if by fighting the prophecy, we help fulfill it?"

"I ask myself the same question every night," said Luna. "But Eschaton's foresight has aided us in the past."

Fantasia closed her eyes and bowed her head, reciting, "On longest day of thousandth year/The stars will aid in Her return."

Guarding completed the passage. "The Long Night falls and fates align./What follows I cannot discern." He shook his head, trying to clear out the reverence that had crept into his tone. As if to compensate, he snarled out, "How many different ends of the world did that mare predict?"

"One hundred and eight, of which forty-three have been averted," said Luna, "twenty-one during my banishment and three since, including my return. But this is the only one that no seer could refute." She opened the Eschatology again, flipping to a sketch laid out lengthwise across the page. Three mares charged from one edge to the other. Storms, fire, and wailing spirits trailed in their wake. The frenzied strokes rendered their expressions unreadable. She stared at them, trying to suss out what Eschaton might have seen. Are they angry? she wondered. Giddy? Frightened? Can I save them, or will I damn them by trying?

A sudden touch made her flinch. It was Fantasia, laying a hoof on Luna's withers. "We will have to do what we can, Mistress."

"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst," added Guarding Dark.

"Perhaps," Luna said, focusing on the earth pony, thinking of the filly who might yet become her, of the fury that had blazed in her eyes and the power at her command. "Perhaps."