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Three Nights in Manehattan, a sequel
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As a child, Daphne knew of a world where magic lived, where an immortal princess reigned over a beautiful kingdom, and longed to journey there beside Leit Motif, the filly she'd grown to love in the woods behind her home. But one day, when she needed her most, Leit Motif was gone, and she never came back to show her the way. As she grew, she put aside her childish dreams, and taught herself to believe the lie.
When forces beyond her knowing take her sister Amelia, though, she discovers that her childhood fancies were entirely too real, and is thrust into a journey that will take her back to that land she longed for, back to the childhood friend she'd abandoned, and to worlds she'd only dreamed of.

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This story is a sequel to Through the Well of Pirene

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NOTE: I wrote this before the 2020 BLM protests and my learning more about policing. I would have written it differently after, but I won't be changing it. Just keep in mind that the depiction here is of another world and another species from a different perspective.

In the City of Dreams, the City That Never Sleeps, a wistful heart walks the lonely streets, searching for answers to questions no one else is willing to ask. A reluctant pilgrim arrives from a long journey, weary but determined to make his mark. An old warhorse, his soul cracked and bleeding, saddles up for his last battle.

A noir tale set in Manehattan, fifteen years after the events of Through the Well of Pirene. Three people over the course of three nights weave and unravel a tale of anxiety, pain, and hope under the lights of the greatest city in Equestria, and the watchful gaze of a green star.

This story is a sequel to Through the Well of Pirene

Pirene stretched and emerged from her cave, shaking off the heaviness of her long slumber like a raiment. The fields of her home were saturated in sunlight, and her children played and laughed and sang in the light, their green eyes bright. Of them, one trotted forward to nuzzle at her, her mane thickly curled and black. "Hello, Mother."
"Good morning, Aurora. How are things going with Daphne and her friends?"
"I haven't checked the Well in a bit," she admitted, twitching her tail. "Our umpteenth-great granddaughter is probably in trouble, though."
"Let's have a look, then, shall we? It's been far too long."
With that, the two of them settled near the Well, and watched what visions poured from it, the stories, struggles, sorrows, and triumphs of nine and a half worlds that flowed like water, like imagination.

These are those tales.