//------------------------------// // Part Four // Story: Neil // by Ferrum Requiem //------------------------------// Sleep, to slumber, to dream, to recluse oneself in a moment of bodily pause for regeneration and the recentering of the mind, it is here the winged god of dreams, Morpheus, carries the god of sleep, Hypnos, to their home in the dream world. In this abstract plane, between the physical and metaphysical worlds, Morpheus molds the visions of mortals into dreams. In his aetherial hands, mortals are unbound by the fetters of tangibility, allowing freedom of one’s identity, thought, and growth. In sleep, man can unfold separated from the horrors and worries of the flesh. He could fly with the birds, or truly allow himself free expression, safe from chastisement by the dreamless, the visionless, and the physically biased. As the dreams of men took shape by Morpheus, so too did the nightmare form at the hands of his brother, Phobetor. This god of sinister visions lurks in the shadows of the dream world. Unlike his brother, the nightmare god's gift to men is the incubus. It is this foul progeny of Phobetor that manifests as a lynching mob to hunt the free man, or wreaks havoc upon the flyer and sends him falling to his death. In contrast to nightmares, the dreams of Morpheus inspire the divine creative aspect within men. The god reminds man of the truth in good, and to aspire to it; because, he gives men the ability to see the beauty of their own minds and the relevancy of imaginative thinking. However, the nightmares of Phobetor grants men the ability of knowing his inner destructive nature, to stay clear of unrealistic fantasies or habits, and that all things must end in time. These gifts are largely ignored, or feared, even hated by some. It is common for mortals to retreat into their own ignorance, thinking themselves safe in its suffocating embrace from the pain of their nightmares, and, on occasion, even from the blinding scope of their dreams. Such miss the point, leaving the lessons of either polarity unheard. However, in a more miraculous stroke of universal creativity, between these gods lies a balance of vision, an Elysium of the mind where men can unfold unhindered by the bias of either god during slumber. In this Elysium, man can lucidly dream and freely create with his soul. But, alas, Neil did not find himself in Elysium this night. Unfortunate though it may be, unutterable terrors stalked him, even into his brightest imaginable places. No matter where the youth fled within his visions, Phobetor chased just behind, practically breathing his acrid breath down Neil’s neck. From the dark god’s sultry breath birthed a baneful incubus. Neil's mind, although beautified and ordered, was by no means perfected. Beauty can be corrupted and order disordered. By some twisted irony the plant mind had served a crude barrier from the darker thing sleeping under its toxic roots. Now with the plant defeated, this thing reanimates unhindered. Deep within the traumatized psyche of the boy, recently freed to illuminate the void of the unknown by his own candle light, the man’s humble flame suddenly extinguished. The house of reason found itself free of the plant mind, only to face its revived stygian arch nemesis, madness. With the tenuous candle light murdered, darkness swallowed the man like a hungry mouth. Shielded under a suffocating gloom from the light of reason, madness took command, marshaling incubuses, shadows, ghouls, and abominations of thought against the house of man. The twisted being commanded the chaotic force to attack the unsuspecting boy, to sink into the man’s mind like teeth and shroud in darkness the beautiful, the good, and the lawful housed within. Within his newly adorned house, the man peered out his regal window. His gilded heart quickened as the eyes widened aghast beholding the ancient enemy besieging his home! Freed from its neurotic plant captor, madness eyed over the boy's mind like a prized treat. The man stiffened in his stance, watching the foul scene unfold as abominations tore at his walls from the outside. With the plant mind's influence gone, Neil had gained control over his own fate; but, such control is unfounded in a boy. Neil did not possess the discipline, the wisdom, nor the knowledge to face his opposite ego and win. It is not a matter of control over fate, but of self control. The thought of enduring the terrors of surviving the feasting savagery of the wild alone would prove a formidable solvent of willpower, however ardent; but, to actually live that terror would break most. If Neil wished to thwart the attack upon him, bring balance to his dreams, and, consequently, his mind, he must brave the incubuses, dispel the shadows, fight off the ghouls, and banish the abominations. Neil must rekindle his candle, or be swallowed by madness. As if his troubles were not already most dire in the world without, the youth must complete this seemingly impossible task from within, alone. Who else could share this burden but himself? Shaking his head somberly, the man glared at the enemy once more before barricading the fortress. Preparing himself, he donned his robes to meet his old foe, for the last time. Turning on his heels, the man hurried towards the exit. He must make haste, for not even madness could afflict a mind recently beautified so quickly. No, something more immediately dangerous and tangible helped birth his old foe, something that weakened Neil considerably; but, what? was the question that tantalized the man's curiosity while challenging his patience. This affliction spread unknown through the boy's body and soul as his mind battled for its life. He awoke inside a dark space, seemingly trapped in a mental void. "Hello?" Neil broke the unnerving silence he found himself in. This was all quite strange. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in his lean to. Now, he was conscious in a total darkness. "Hello?" he asked again, then a small opening cast a faint light through the dark. Neil crawled on his belly into what he hoped was the exit. The cramped tenuous tunnel closed in on him as he forced his way inch by inch to the dim light at the end. The boy stopped periodically to breathe and assure himself he wasn't trapped within the tight space. All he could do was crawl deeper, hoping the light was his escape. As the war between reason and madness raged within the boy’s mind, the fogs of war settled about Neil's dream, cloaking in confusion all that was once clear. The boy emerged from his crawling and stood in a desolate space. Now fully birthed from the suffocating tunnel, Neil advanced a few steps, then felt a terrible presence pulling him into a shadowy mist; occasional groans and moans elicited from the curious vapor as it encircled him like a hungry predator before it strikes. Turning his head every which way to see through the unsolicited veil inspired only some unutterable despondency in him, for there was nothing to see but this vaporous gloom. "Where am I? What is this?" Neil furrowed his brow and looked everywhere again, spying no changes. Suddenly, familiar disembodied voices called to him from the opaque emptiness. Sugar. Was that his mother? Neil recognized her voice. “Mom?” He called, looking about confused yet excitedly for her; however, he saw nothing, just the vague outlines of his deepest desires in the embracing mist. He tried to wave the haze away angrily, in vain. Frustratingly, it stuck to his senses like a sultry curse. Neil. That sounded like his father. “Dad!?” He turned, swerved on his heels and inspected everything, which heralded much of the same as before in these vapors of insecurity. Neil. Sugar. both phantom voices called to him from the fog. Frenzied Neil ran into the unknown towards where he believed the calls originated. He ran, and ran; nothing changed; the fog revealed only more dank emptiness, and a false hope of reunion with his loved ones. Panicked, he screamed, ”where are you guys!?” The voices silenced, leaving him alone in the hot loveless embrace of the misty gloom. Then, his panic evolved into hysteria. He bolted into the haze, running full sprint with no destination in mind but to escape whatever this place was; yet, no matter how fast he moved, nor how long, the same environment remained, devoid of all except the suffocating, maddening, damnable haze. Neil ceased his futile efforts of escape. Shaking on his feet, he held himself for at least some meager comfort. Shivering in a cold sweat, he fell to his trembling knees. “What have you done to me, Trisha?” He rhetorically asked, as he felt so alone and so afraid of the feeling. He chuckled in nervous humor for the sake of laughter over tears, as the situation grew more dire by his quickening heart beat. “It’s funny: I used to take comfort in solitude. I wished for it, even day dreamed of it sometimes; now, it’s becoming my worst enemy. I don't want to be alone anymore, and wish for someone, anyone, to talk to." Grimacing, the boy shut his eyes, then clutched at the wave of nausea in his fluttering stomach. “I want my mom. I want to go home.” Suddenly, the mist parted before him, revealing a curiously lit door of suspicious origin at the center of an ancient mossy cobble wall which faded into the surrounding fog. Even the wooden portal itself was weathered and splintered by age. The door’s handle moved, creaking as the motion shook the ancient dust off its rusted texture. It slowly opened with a terrible squeal of unloved iron hinges, exposing a void of the darkest ebony within the frame. Neil narrowed his eyes to see inside it, to no avail. Only the thick blackness within greeted his curiosity. The inky nothingness of the ajar portal consumed the suffocating mist's tenuous light like a demon devours sin. Undaunted by the light swallowing void, Neil stood and approached to better explore this eldritch door. Just as the boy could virtually place a hand on the splintered door frame, a shadowy figure stirred within the otherwise lifeless nothing. Affeared and surprised, Neil withdrew himself to a safer distance from the living void, watching in terrible amazement as the figure birthed itself out the dark entrance. The being stood several feet taller than Neil. A full black robe cloaked its frame. Its head was lowered and the cloak sufficiently shielded its identity. The astounded boy remained frozen in place, too disturbed to move. He simply stared with unblinking eyes. The figure lifted its head and extended a singular arm. Upon the full extension of the head and arm, the cloak’s cover failed, unveiling a skeletal hand and a bare skull with inky pits for empty eye sockets. The reaper held its open bony palm to Neil beckoningly, saying to him in a terrible eldritch tone, ”home.” Mortified, Neil screamed and fled from the being of death and into the vapor’s protection. He ran, and ran, fleeing death for what felt like an hour. Finally ceasing his escape, he looked about the mists. Spying no reaper, Neil sighed in blissful relief. It seemed he thwarted death’s hand by disappearing into the uncertainty. The tired boy seated himself on the barren earth to catch his breath, and wondered what the reaper meant by home: perhaps, that he belonged with the dead? Is that why he can't escape the mist? No. He shook his head defiantly of such an unhealthy conjecture. I can still find a way out! The boy pushed himself to his feet and continued his odyssey through the sultry mist. And so, Neil walked. He walked, hiked, and stepped. The minutes turned to hours; and, several hours of wandering, he spied two outlines in the mist. Upon careful inspection, he saw the smiling faces of his parents with their hands extended to take him away. Gasping in glee, he rushed towards them, arms outstretched and eyes watering, only to see their form vaporize into thin air. "What?!" He yelped, scanning his surroundings for signs of where they went. Then, he saw himself standing a ways behind him, muttering something. "What is going on here?" he breathlessly asked to himself. Wiping his eyes, he drew closer, for he could not hear his double from such a distance over his pounding heart. Finally, he heard the foul whispering of his look alike. "I'm going to die here." it said, then turned to meet Neil's gaze. "I'm going to die here." Speechless, Neil promptly retreated a few steps as the twin burst into fire like a torch. "I'm burning up! I'm sick!" it frantically repeated, screeching and yelling as it turned to ashes before the boy. Once the unsettling spectacle ended, wide eyed Neil took what remained of his wits and resumed his wandering about the mist. More hours waned and those matured to what seemed like a day of nonstop meandering through the hot fog. In this forlorn odyssey, ghostly figures materialized to taunt him or whisper messages of some encroaching doom, none of which made any sense. The unholy phenomenon only discouraged Neil more as sweat drenched him in this suffocating miasma. The temperature felt like it increased with every hour. "Why is it so...hot?" Neil wiped his brow and sighed in burden from the heat's heaviness. "Hey, Romeo." suddenly resounded as a figure materialized before the lost boy. Neil deadpanned, recognizing who it was. "You've got to be shitting me." "Remember our deal? Or, should I pay Trisha a visit?" Those familiar despicable blue eyes impatiently stared him down. "No, no, noooo, not Blake!" Cringing, Neil glared at the frowning face of his enemy, before pointing a finger to him threateningly. "If you go anywhere near her, I'll rip your head off!" "Oh yeah!? I've tackled thoughts heavier than you." Blake opened his arms wide. "Take your best shot, weakling!" Neil attacked, fists ready. The ground, however, clinched around the boy's ankles and held him within arms reach of Blake. Blake laughed then socked Neil hard enough his vision blurred as he tumbled to the ground. "You cheating basta-" Neil lamented before Blake held him down by the throat. "Things aren't fair in this world, loser!" Neil struggled to win the fight; but, Blake was too strong and held him fast. The choking boy's struggles were in vain. Blake's face, devoid of emotion as he pressed on Neil, leaned closer to whisper. "She's only your friend out of pity. Trisha's soft like that. Frankly, squirt, you're too weak to have real friends, let alone survive out here. You are going to die, small-fry." Blake stood up, letting Neil go. Gasping for air, Neil stumbled to his feet. "I...hate...you." "Piff, you're the one who can't protect your girl. Hell, you can't even protect you!" Blake flipped him off. "Hate yourself, jackass." "I'm in hell." Neil shook his head to shut out everything. "This is hell." "You don't know what hell is." Blake sighed, then stretched in place. "Before you're dead, don't worry about Trisha." He gestured to himself with a thumb and a wink. "I'll take care of her for ya, scout's promise." Shaking in pure anger, Neil just glared at his foe with a blood curdling stare. Blake laughed one last time, before vanishing into the mist. Neil's abdomen turned with dragonflies as terrible thoughts birthed in his mind: of him rotting in a ditch in this hellish forest, of Trisha unprotected, and that asshat getting to her. Furiously knocking his skull with knuckles clinched white, Neil hysterically rejected such an idea. Neil the desperate scowled at the mists around him. This sultry, thick, and asphyxiating vapor pressed on his mind from all sides like a thumb upon a ripe berry. It spawned horrible memories and mocked him with his desires and fears. It won't let him go and he finally admitted it to himself. The stressed boy, holding his head between quaking hands, desperately tried to calm his panic, saying, “none of this is real. It's going to be okay. I will close my eyes and count to three. When I open them, I’ll be home.” Neil did so. One. Two. Three. His young brown eyes opened. At last, the mist was gone. He stood at his campsite in the clearing, with night still shrouding the forest and wisps of gentle moonlight barely cutting through the thick evergreen canopy. Tears of utter joyous relief streamed from the boy's eyes as he fell to his knees, kissing the grass patched soil in reverence of his rescue from the unholy fog. He hugged the earth, giving silent thanks to it. Sitting on the ground, with a generous grin planted on his face, his bliss slowly waned as he looked about the campsite. Some of the forest's colored textures shifted like light beams under water. The air felt unnaturally still and the harsh heat remained unchanged. Something was still wrong. Perplexed, Neil paused to think and analyze these curious oddities. After moments of comparison between this place and the previous hell, a reasonable idea came to him. Am I dreaming? The skeptical youth approached and reached a hand for a tree to test this hypothesis. Upon touching its rough surface, he found, to his astonishment, the trunk bent under his weight like putty. Neil’s eyes widened at this marvelous discovery. “This is all just a nightmare!" Gasping in sudden realization, he laughed. "Of course, now it makes sense why I was so bold to Blake before. My thoughts are my words here. Amazing! This feels so liberating!" Sighing in relief, he assured to himself, "all I have to do now is wake up!" What could have been a breakthrough in consciousness fermented to a breakdown of regained sanity when Neil heard rustling behind him. “Damn it all!” He cursed, tensing his muscles apprehensively. Slowly turning, the boy spied a horde of green eyes glowing in the shadows of the trees surrounding him. Neil realized the mists were but the carrier of the nightmare. Now exposed, the incubus grinned its terrible smile as an army of green eyed wooden freaks burst from the thicket and rushed him en masse. Though afraid, Neil stood his ground, knowing none of it was real. “No! This is my dream, and you will behave!” Hand extended, Neil willed with all his might to control the beasts. If it worked for the wizard in his favorite fantasy book, why not for Neil in his dream? They did not bend to his command, despite his bravery. One freak drew close and jumped him, swiping his chest with a mossy claw. He felt the feral attack rake against his skin. It growled savagely as he backed away. Feeling the wound, Neil looked at his hand in bewilderment. Blood covered the fingers and stained down his shirt. Images of his fight with Blake, and of the beast that tore his arm, flashed into his mind. Neil swallowed hard. What is this? I'm not supposed to get hurt in my dreams! The mind is an incredibly creative thing; and, within its domain, the word impossible has no actual meaning. The boy discovered this fact too late to avoid the creature's blow. Standing corrected, Neil ran from the onslaught of freaks before being torn to bits. Suddenly, the ground under his feet moved against him, pulling the panicked boy closer to the growling mob. "Really?!" he screamed. The faster he ran, the more the ground pulled him in. He felt heavy and the air grew unbearably hot. Neil could smell the beasts' putrid breath as they collectively readied to pounce and end him. As if Morpheus himself stepped in to defy his brother, next to Neil’s tree approached a dark creature, watching over the event with eyes glowing a piercing white light. Once Neil saw the strange being, the incubus froze still and the beastly horde vanished. Neil’s bleeding wound mended, and the blood ceased to stain as the ground beneath his feet solidified to normal. The heat which sapped his strength cooled slightly. Even Madness itself took a step back, savoring this new development with a keen suspicion. Is it friend, or foe? Neil did not find himself in Elysium this night. Instead, however incredible, it would seem a member of Elysium had found him. Now unmolested by his nightmares, Neil's attention was fully captivated by the new strange creature. Both the boy and the stranger stood their ground, locking eye contact. It whinnied and morphed from a vague figure into a dark furred horse with a horn, a pair of black feathered wings, and a flowing mane liken to the night sky. Neil hardly believed his eyes, for he dreamed nothing like it before. It approached him, but stopped short a few meters. It looked above, below, and around. Lifting a front leg, it set the hoof on thin air, then leaned on it as if the space were a solid wall. The horse snorted, then shot Neil a confused look. Neil cautiously approached the odd being, then sat where this phantasmal wall supposedly existed. He extended a hand and pressed on the illusory barrier, then gawked in astonishment upon feeling an odd solidity to the thin air, like a plastic sheet had separated the two strangers. Pressing the hand harder, a satisfying pop resounded once Neil penetrated the barrier. The whole sheet vanished with it. Neil held his hand halfway of the creature and waited to see what would happen next. Its eyes shifted between him and his hand curiously. Lifting a front leg again, the horse extended a hoof jeweled in silver to meet the open palm. Slowly, cautiously, the alien appendages met. Hoof in hand, hand in hoof, both in the peculiar party remained still for a spell, taking in each other’s strange qualities. Even though these two beings were born separated by space and time, upon their own habitable speck of dust orbiting its unique parent star, they held similar thoughts toward each other. For instance, the attention of the dark blue horse focused on the boy’s features, soft hands, and smooth mostly furless pale skin. She had never seen anything like Neil before, and wondered where such a being came from. Whereas, Neil was captivated by the horse’s astral mane, watching it flow of its own accord with its twinkling stars and constellations. A peculiar mark on its flank, which resembled a crescent moon surrounded by an ink blot, gripped his interest tightly. Equally strange was the black and silvery regalia it wore. It appeared to be a noble beast and truly unlike anything he's seen in his life, a fact which added to the intrigue. Both beings found each other’s eyes enchanting, neither having seen a fruit of evolution like its kind until now. The intensity of Neil’s brown gaze nearly forced the other to look away; likewise, Neil felt the same about the creature’s steely cyan stare. The force of their curiosity overthrew the temptation to break their respective images of each other. Just as he studied her, she further studied him. The marvels uncovered shattered the horse's perspective of life and the boy's of dreams. The horse narrowed her eyes at Neil, seemingly suspicious over something. Neil had no clue why, however. The beauty of this figment's cyan eyes quickly entrapped him in wonder. They held a complexity and richness that betrayed sophistication and intelligence. The noble creature emanated a clean feeling about it. The only word Neil knew to describe this fantastic quality was benevolent. How can a dream be this detailed? he asked himself, for beings of the mind were but thoughts themselves. Normally, dreams were blurry, or their textures were muddled somehow by the mind's natural motion. Or, so he believed, as Neil watched his dream shift independently of this creature, like water around a rock, or a still figure in a waving grass field. His heart beat quickened. What am I getting all worked up for? It's just another part of my dream. he reasoned reasonably; but, in the back of his mind this being set him on edge. He could not shake the feeling that it didn't belong here, like it was foreign somehow. Maybe, all that Western mythology finally went to his studious head and now he started taking dreams too seriously? Bemused Neil laughed at himself while retrieving his hand from the construct's hoof. Smiling, he broke the silence with a pleasant greeting. “Hello.” It tilted its head and blinked; the puzzlement on the creature's features only deepened. “Hmmm.” Neil tapped a finger on his chin. Can't talk, huh? Thinking of ways to communicate his friendliness towards the regal being, he snapped his fingers once an idea came to him. I'll give the horse an apple. He looked to his tree and, fortuitously, a large juicy apple suddenly hung from a low laying branch on an otherwise dead barren tree. He promptly rose to pick it. Upon returning to his seat, he offered the succulent fruit to the noble creature. Its eyes widened at him and the offering in bewilderment. Cheeks blushing, it accepted the gift and stored the fruit into its astral mane. Neil remained still, awestruck at the horse’s amazing storage trick. “Stylish and useful? That’s one awesome mane you have there!” Its horn glowed, then a warm tingling light encapsulated and teased him to laughter. “H-hey! That tickles!” It smiled, replying in a sweet voice, “my apologies, good sir; but, thou dost speakest a queer tongue. I required a linguistic spell to parse thy language.” The horse smacked her lips together a few times, like she could taste the words. She tapped her chin with a silver hoof, deciding if she liked the exotic flavor or not. Her blush redoubled as her attention returned to him again. “And, I thank thee for the boon. ‘twas a truly sweet gesture.” Dumbstruck, Neil's heavy emotions lightened at this sudden and promising change of events. It’s a magical, feminine, horse that speaks in Shakespearean English? That's friggan awesome! He shrugged with a light laugh. “No problem.” Now things were getting interesting. He recalled the strangest thing his mind had concocted in his life: the Sandwichite invasion from planet Reuben incident during the night of his nineth birthday; it turned out the alien confections had depleted their cheese supply and invaded Earth to steal the moon. That was a very weird dream; however, this winged, horned, and talking horse took the cheese, so to speak. He asked her, “may I have the honor of knowing your name, noble creature?” Neil's sincerity took the construct by surprise. “Forgive me, good sir. I have forgotten my manners. Of course thou canst. Admittedly, thy presence in the world of dreams surprised me. Truly, ne’er have I seen a being such as thou.” She cleared her throat. “I am Luna, Princess of the Night.” “Princess of the Night?” Neil furrowed his brows at the strange title. “Unless I’m misunderstanding that, I must wonder, how can one be a Princess only of the night? What happened to the day?” “Oh, thou art philosophical, I see." Luna answered matter of fact. "That is simple enough. 'Tis my sister whom rules the day after I end the night by lowering the moon.” Neil’s eyes glazed over at the claim. “Um, did you just say that you lower the moon?” “But, of course.” She cocked her head to the side, finding his confusion confusing. “As per my royal charge, I lower the moon to help bring about the day.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Pray tell, how canst thou misunderstand this?” “Well....” Neil paused, trying to find the words to explain how absolutely insane that statement was. True, this was a dream; but, that wasn't about to stop him from questioning such a marvelous statement. “The moon follows the laws of physics, independent from you and I. It will lower itself just fine. Why would you need to help it out?” Now Luna’s eyes glazed over. After they shared a brief awkward silence, she motioned to Neil with a silvered regal hoof. “I must beg thy pardon. Thou hast me at a disadvantage. May I, good sir, have the honor of inquiring thy identity?” “Ugh, now I've forgotten my manners.” He held his hand out. “I’m Neil. It’s nice to meet a friendly face out here for a change.” The princess recognized the gesture and returned it in full. “Ah, aye, ‘tis well indeed, Neil.” They shook in proper greeting and Luna asked in turn with a keen inquisitiveness, “Neil, whither wast thou born?" Neil scratched his head, wondering what that had to do with their conversation. “I was born in Richmond, Virginia, originally; then, I moved to Ohio after my dad got a better job. Why?” “Rich-mond, Vir-gi-ni-a, Oh-hi-oh?” Luna blinked at the strange names for these places alien to her. “Pray bid, where exactly is this place with Richmond, Virginia, and this Ohio thou speakest of?” “You mean, what continent?” Neil blinked at her, rubbing his chin curiously over just what Luna was getting at with this conversation. "Luna, what are you talking about?" Luna cocked her head. "What is the name of thy planet?" The boy folded his hands together and studied her features closely. "What, are you another lost alien or something?" He laughed at her surprised look. "Luna, tell it to me straight; what's going on?" Luna simply replied, “I have risked a great deal to come here, Sir. Answer, prithee? ‘Tis of great import.” “Well, if you insist. I'm from Earth.” He shook his head. "Now, what, are you stranded here? Do you need me to take you back home?" He scratched his head and looked around, dreading that he wasn't in his bedroom anymore, where all his usual gear was. "My old spaceship's not around here; no matter, I'll just take us to my room." He closed his eyes and willed himself and his new xeno acquaintance to his house. Upon opening his young orbs, they shrugged in distress seeing the environment had not changed one iota. He tried again, and again, pushing his will to the point of grunting, to no avail. It was like the mist; he couldn't escape. Why? Luna stared at his bizarre behavior with a tilted head and a bemused light smirk. Clearing the embarrassment from his mind with a nervous cough, he confided to his guest, "Ookaay, plan B, I'll just build a starship and take you back to wherever you live." She paused for a moment, blinking at him in wonder. "Verily, not only art thou philosophical, but polite, gracious, and generous, towards a stranger no less." He shrugged. "It's only fair. I know what it's like to feel stranded. Besides, this is my dream. Why wouldn't I do all I can for everything in it?" Solemnly, he continued, "I'm not nearly as capable in real life; so, I try to do everything I can here. Anyway, I'm just guessing. You still haven't answered my question: why are you here?" "I think I understand now." Luna sighed. “Neil, what I am about to say might upsetest thee.” She scooted closer to him. "Thou art in the land of Equestria, living on my home planet, not thy homeworld, this Earth, as thou understandably suspects. I was opposed to believing this at first; now, I see the uncanny truth. I do not know how thou hast come here; but, on behalf of all Equestria, I welcome thee." She placed a regal hoof on her chest. “Know that I am not a figment of thy dream, but a living being like thou. I am the Princess of the Night. 'Tis my duty to venture into the dreams of all reasoning beings of Equestria whenever necessary. As to thy question, I came the moment I sensed thy distress in the world of dreams. I am here to help thee, Neil. How may I be of service?” Neil just blinked at the supposedly real Princess Luna. He had to admit she didn't act like any dream he encountered before, and continued to surprise him. He bit his bottom lip. Maybe... no, no way. There's no way she could be real. Admittedly, Neil had never lucidly dreamed before. Perhaps such a rich character like Luna is simply the product of lucid dreaming? The understandably stubborn boy clung to reason, saying to himself, “I wonder, are you actually real, or is this something lucid dreams do naturally?” Luna retorted only with a raised eye brow. He asked, staring at her unabashedly, "Okay, let me get this straight. You say you're not part of my dream, but an alien dream visitor from real life who's now in my mind because of my nightmare. Is that right?” “Simply put, yes.” Luna answered with a firm singular nod. Neil shrugged his face. “Alright. Tell you what, there’s this wise saying on my planet, ’extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.’ If you are in fact real, I must ask that you prove it.” He pointed at her, adding to further his position; "Put yourself in my shoes. You must understand how ridiculous it sounds to claim being real while inside a dream. You can’t expect me to believe you outright. I’m not crazy.” He put his foot down figuratively with an ultimatum. “If you are real, all I ask is some proof of this in the physical world.” Luna smiled, then pondered Neil's brilliant challenge a moment. The wise Princess calmly replied, “verily, thou madest an excellent point. I shall produce proof of my existence in reality; however, I ask for time to bethink of a way to prove myself thus; and, I ask thou to please treatest me not as a figment of thy mind but as a person. Wilt thou grantest me this much?” “Certainly; take all the time you need.” With the matter settled momentarily, he lied down on the dream born grass. It felt so nice to just relax, to take a self-centering moment free of pain, worry, and fear. With Luna for company, he didn't mind staying in the dream a while longer. Taking a deep contented sigh, he opted to remain as long as R.E.M. would have him. Luna considered Neil for a moment, then joined him on the ground. Upon laying next to the relaxing boy, she stared at the distant changing sky. Its blue tint quickly changed to orange, red, purple, and even blanked out white before it changed back to blue. The clouds shape-shifted constantly while racing about. These quirks of the mental environment Luna recognized as signs of an inexperienced lucid dreamer, with little to no inner mastery of willpower. Dreams within such beings are liken to an overworked staff during a grand feast; in such a thing there is much clamor, hustle, bustle, and inefficiency. A well-organized mind manifests orderly dreams, with bouts of mirthful chaos birthing only at the beckoning call of the dreamer in question. Such was not the case with the one untrained in oneiromancy beside her. She ignored the nonsense above and gently bit the inside of her bottom lip in thought. Neil opened a single eye her way. Noticing the intensity on her features, he rolled over to his side and faced her. "What's on your mind?" Her ears perked up and she answered, "I was wondering why I find the name of thy planet familiar." She tapped her chin in deep thought. "Earth...hmmm...whither have I heard that before?" With a devilish smile, Neil held up his phone and pointed to it. "Hey, don't worry, I have Sherlock Holmes on...." His old joke evaporated as he glared astonished at the imaginary copy of his cell phone, and screamed,"my phone!" Realizing he'd forgotten something with the potential of saving his life, Neil shot up from his seat and patted himself down. "Where did I leave it?! I had it when I fell!" He face palmed at his efforts, for if he didn't already know where it was then looking for it here was futile. "I need to wake up and find it! Wait." He sighed and slumped back down to the warming dirt. "What if it's still night out? I'm too hurt, and it was far too dark. I'd better stay asleep for now to be safe." Being a patient witness to Neil's sudden passionate outburst, a particular bit of the boy's lament caught Luna's attention. She fixed her complete focus to the dower boy while raising to sit on her haunches. "Excuse me, but didst thou sayest thee fell and was hurt?" Resting the back of his head upon his up turned palms, Neil answered, "Yeah. I fell out of the sky after I...I dunno, tripped into some kind of portal thing." He frowned at the mental image of his assailant's face. "This is all Helen's fault. Every bit of it." Sudden vexation gripped him. He rose to his feet, grabbed a clump of soil and threw it to alleviate his anger. It only dirtied the hand. Momentarily dumbfounded by the weight of his claim, Luna recovered herself and replied aghast, "thou fellest from the sky after falling into a portal?! How and when?!" Neil told Luna his story, Trisha following Helen into the basement, him tripping into the portal with Helen, then nearly dying by falling from above the clouds, and making his campsite and tools, everything up to the moment he fell asleep surrounded by the horrors of the night outside his lean to. Despite the Princess's rapt attention on Neil's retold tale, she gasped upon seeing his real appearance manifest. Her wide eyes took in his form, dirty and ravaged with wounds that would surely scar. Once her cyan eyes gravitated to his crippled leg, liquid sympathy pooled and fell down her cheeks. "Egad, how dust thou move with such heinous injuries?!" "Painfully." He held up his impromptu crutch. "If not for this, I couldn't move an inch without crawling like a filthy beast in the dirt." He slowly lowered the stick. The presence of a confidant ear, combined with the aggressive images of feral teeth chewing his arm, broke his thin emotional shield. "There are horrible things out here and this is all I have to fight them." He waved to what he now considered a miserable pile of hobbled stone tools and school gear. "I'm trapped and I don't know where I am." Neil pulled his knees to his chest and withdrew, hugging them tightly. "I think I'm going to die here, and no one else knows about it. I'm scared, Luna." If any doubts remained of this forlorn being's sapience, they died with his lament. Luna promptly trotted to the retched boy and hugged him with her surprisingly large dark wings. Neil flinched at the abrupt show of affectionate consideration towards his shattered physical and mental comfort. The wings were soft and consoling. He found himself hugging her back, then shivering. "Sir, I can hardly imagine thy trauma. 'Twill be alright. I promise with all my power, I shall liberate thee from this vile situation, good Neil; I swear it by the moon." Despite the courage and outward sureness of her tone, Luna's stomach fluttered and knotted itself as her mind rushed apprehensively. She knew the major forests on the Equestrian continent. To name a hoofful, the Everfree Forest, Hollow Shades, and the White Tail Woods. There were even the woodlands in the Undiscovered West and the Mysterious South to consider. But, if Neil was not actually on the Equestrian continent, this mental tally would prove fruitless. The magical formulae of portal spells are not attuned to xenomorphic physiology. Meaning, it could've spat Neil literally anywhere on the planet. In fact, he's very fortunate it didn't maroon him under the ocean, inside the planet, or in orbit for that matter. In addition to those bitter facts, the surroundings within Neil's dream gave no evidence of his location in reality. With Luna's knowledge of Equestria's woodlands, she could've guessed Neil's position based on the dream around her. She looked around and spied nothing beyond the treeline, just a blurry mishmash of colored textures. The space covered in this dream was too small to determine the boy's position effectively. Simply put, he knew too little to offer much help. She deduced from this his accident must have happened within the last 12 hours. Regardless, if he was in Equestria after all, she knew intimately the Equestrian wilderness was an unforgiving and brutal environment. The likelihood of finding Neil before the wilds took him was slim, considering his critical condition. Luna bit her lower lip and squeezed Neil gently. She was afraid, afraid for him. Most of all, the Princess also understood what it felt like to feel alienated and alone, which only motivated her more to find Neil before the wilds claimed their exotic prize. She needed a moment to think. In the meantime, Luna would keep an eye on her guest. Gently letting Neil go from the embrace, she motioned to follow her. "Come, Neil, walk with me. Movement may doest thou some good." With her promise of help still ringing in his bruised ears, Neil wiped the sweat and tears then joined the Princess on a woodland trek. Even if Luna might prove just a dream after all, hearing her say everything would be alright lifted the boy's down trodden spirits. The sun rose steadily in the horizon. Its gentle morning glow penetrated the canopy and illuminated the path. They took down a familiar road, the one Neil walked before that abomination attacked him. He grit his teeth, hoping his immediate past wouldn't return to bite him, again. Luna saw the sun rise as well and smiled slightly to herself, seeing it as a good sign for her alien acquaintance. The Princess cleared her throat, "This Helen, the one whom cast the portal thou mentioned, whence came her?" Neil scoffed, "Tch, she showed up one day. I don't know her story, because she kept to herself. Helen mostly went around school taking notes like you wouldn't believe. She even recorded Clay napping on a cafeteria bench! Who does that?!" "Queer, indeed." She giggled. "And, how didst thou discoverest her secret again?" "My friend and I followed Helen into the basement of our school and found her near the damn portal." He shook his head. "I should mention I saw Trisha's hand pass right through her. What kind of tales from the crypt shit is that!?" Neil sighed, holding his temples between the index finger and thumb of his right hand for some measure of surcease from the building stress. "Hmmm, a concealment spell..." Luna ironed out Neil's heated testimony and mentally spat at its bitter flavor. "Alak. So, 'tis as I feared." Neil just looked at her. "What is it?" "The Ordo Veritatum, this must be their doing." Luna closed her eyes in aggravation. "Helen must be some wayward Field Scribe." "Excuse me?" The confused boy shrugged his face. "The Ordo weer-a-what? What's that, some kind of creepy worm-hole cult? Are there tentacles involved?" "Nay; but, such would be a humorous alternative. 'Tis old Crystalan for 'the Order of Truth,' an ancient priesthood following an equally old mysticism." That idea peaked Neil's interest. "Oh? What do they believe in?" "They believe one can embody truth through the acquisition of it. Their ultimate goal is to achieve unity with the universal mind and thus bring true harmony to all life." She shrugged. "'Tis an admirable goal." "Admirable, and pointless." Neil boldly claimed while wiping more sweat from his brow. Luna curiously considered him as he continued, while also wondering if his species was supposed to have clammy skin. "If one could simply embody truth," the young philosopher explained, "Then there would be no need for multiple branches of schooling or for science, or any form of learning beyond a singular kind. Just learn to embody it; there you go!" He laughed. "Nonsense." "Interesting." Luna smirked ever so slightly at his reasoning. "What makes thou so certain this ancient order has unwittingly pursued nonsense for millennia? Surely, truth must originate from some universal center for them to commit themselves so?" Neil scratched his head, thinking of a rebuttal. "Well, the whole reason learning even works is because the truth is ultimately unknowable, that way there's always room for growth. In other words, if you can't learn everything, there's always something to learn." He tapped his head with a finger. "On my planet, a great philosopher named Plato theorized something to this degree. I personally think attaining ultimate knowledge is a farce; because, the best anyone can do is apply some kind of calculus to truth. Sure, you'll get close eventually, but never actually reach zero. Anyway, do you have someone like Plato on your world?" Luna considered the question for a spell. "One comes to mind, the great thinker Neighto." Neil deadpanned. "Are you kidding me?" She replied innocently, "Whatever is the matter, Neil?" "You're telling me, instead of Pla-to, you have Neigh-to?" "Of course." "Wait, wait, let me guess: instead of Emperor Na-poleon, is it Neigh-poleon?" She nodded. "Yea. There was an Emperor Neighpoleon once." Neil had a well spirited laugh over her obvious joke. "You're full of it!" It felt so good to laugh, a welcome contrast to the recent horrors. Luna broke her serious demeanor and grinned at Neil's infectious laughter. "My apologies, Neil. I was indeed jesting. There are no such ponies on my world. The closest I believe to this Plato may be Starswirl the Bearded; and, this Emperor Napoleon, I say, King Sombra, mayhap?" Neil had no idea who this Starswirl was. He pictured a gay wizard with a sparkly luxurious beard whirling around like a dervish in his bedazzled tower: Behold, my faaabulous power! Stifling a giggle attack, Neil quickly asked, "uh, was this King Sombra a tactical genius with an insatiable lust for power?" "Yes, in fact." Luna's ears perked up. "Fancy that, they were alike after all." "That was a good guess then." One word of Luna's caught Neil's attention. He asked her, "Wait, before, you said ponies. You call yourself a pony, not a horse?" "Indeed." Her stoic demeanor returned as she continued, "By the by, in my language, a whorse is a sex worker. I say this because whorse obviously must mean something different in thy tongue." Neil's jaw dropped. This figment shockingly considered the word horse as a homophone for whore. "Of course it does!" The Princess giggled. “Calm thyself, Neil. I understand. ‘Twas simply a homophone most foul!” Now Luna laughed and Neil cracked up, joining her in the harmless mirth. This was good. Her plan of keeping Neil's stress down was working, for now. When Neil calmed, he finished, "Yeah, it's what we call equines on Earth." Luna's eyes widened. "What? Equines live on thy planet?" "Yeah; but, they're nothing like you or me; they're animals." Luna asked while shrugging her features, "Equines are lesser creatures on thy world?" "Well, Earth horses aren't inferior creatures because they're animals; it's... you see..." Neil scratched his head, trying to think of a better way to put it. "Humans are unique compared to anything on Earth. I mean, sure, you can say, 'but the dolphins!' Yet, when the next asteroid key holes and will slam the Earth, only Humans could stop it, not the over hyped telepathic sea mammals. To quote the wise Jacob Bronowski, 'man is a singular creature; he has certain gifts which make him unique among the animals. So that, unlike them, he is not a figure in the landscape; he is the shape of the landscape.' In other words, what men think and do becomes the landscape." "Verily? Thou art a Human, I presume?" "That's right. I am a Human being, Man, or even a Terran, if you're feeling exotic." "Forsooth, they are all quite exotic." Luna noted the imaginary sun was higher in the sky now. "Is thy species sexually dimorphic?" "Wha-ho, that went south fast. Uh, yeah. There are males and females." Neil gestured to himself with a thumb. "I'm a male, by the way." "Hmmm. Our species share similarities. On my world there are mares and colts." Luna let the subject on Earth die for the moment as she watched an angry squirrel yell at them for venturing too close to its tree. Eerily like the genders of Earth horses. Neil ironed out the concept of interstellar magical space equines, before remembering that angst ridden tree rodent and stopping in his steps. "Oh, no." He breathed as his previous hopes were dashed. The scene manifested around them from Neil's memory. The wooden freak in hiding drew near. "What is it?" Luna asked. The fear on his face made her body stiffen straighter. The bird flew in the same pattern as before. The rabbits hopped away. The deer still grazed. The bushes still growled. Luna and Neil collectively turned. Staring at the shadowy thicket, both understood what was transpiring; Neil knew from memory, Luna from recognizing the sound and what creature it belonged to. The savage plant based assailant emerged from the brush, its bark covered face tensing with a murderous glare, baring its unholy toothy scowl while coiling to pounce. "Friend of thine?" Luna asked, unperturbed by the pseudo beast. At first, Neil recoiled, his shell-shock still pestering him with images of impending death. The boy forcefully composed himself while pointing at it with a thumb. "Oh, it's one of those murder plant dog things that attacked me earlier today on this path." He showed Luna his arm with its red stained bandage. "It almost killed me." Promptly, Neil picked up a rock. "But, he's not so tough now." He tossed the stone at the thing. "Begone abomination!" The rock struck it and the beast fled yelping into the brush. The vengeful boy smirked devilishly in triumph. Inside, Luna lept for joy at the sight of the creature; it told her Neil was factually on the Equestrian continent, for that was a Timberwolf, a species native to Equestria. Displaying no emotion on this revelation however, Luna asked him, "yonder Timberwolf attacked thee in reality?" Neil quickly swiveled his head to face Luna. "Did you just call that thing a Timberwolf?" "Correct. 'Tis their name, Neil." Luna resumed walking. "I assume thou dost not have Timberwolves on thy planet?" "No. Well...." He rubbed the back of his neck, finding the Timberwolf homophone between his world and Luna's both amusing and surprising. "We do; but, they're animals with muscle and skin, not tree things with bark and wood." "Simply wolves amongst the timber, then? I assume that means thy planet has trees?" "It does. Earth is a garden world, much like your world, in fact-" Dizziness struck Neil suddenly as his knees buckled under his weight before falling to the ground. The growing heat proved too much and over took his body. His sweat turned cold on his clammy skin. The textures and background of the dream around them began to melt like ice cream in the sun. Something was horribly wrong, and Luna rushed to him. "Neil, what happened?" "I felt woozy all of a sudden." Neil winced and gripped his leg. Luna saw something that wasn't there before, a familiar and deadly sign on his leg injury. Her horn glowed as a dull light encapsulated the area. She gasped, "thou hast a powerful fever! The wound upon thy leg radiates the most heat of anywhere. Zounds! Neil, didst thou sufferest this injury from the trees or the timberwolf?" "The trees: I pulled out a stick punctured in my leg after the fall." Luna asked carefully, "did a black film grow on this stick?" "I didn't exactly examine it. I was too busy almost bleeding to death." "I believe thou hast been poisoned by mort moss, a rare but fatally toxic vegetation indigenous to Equestria. It grows in thick canopies on low branches." A numbing tingling sensation progressed up from Neil's injured leg. None of this made any sense. This is his dream, in his mind. Why can't he control it? Why can't he get back up? Why can't he cool off? What is going on? The boy screamed inside his mind these desperate questions. "Why is this happening, Luna? Why can't I control my dream?" Luna shushed him. "Calm thyself. Panic will worsen it. Mort moss is an Arcanatoxin, which poisons both body and soul. A foul fever hast taken over thy physical and astral bodies, rendering thee powerless." "I'm having a fever dream?" "Yes." "That explains a lot." "If the toxin isn't treated, thou wilt slowly fall into a fatal paralysis." "What can I do?" "Seekest thou a common long dangling plant in the trees, a moss known as sage's beard. 'Tis the natural cure to mort moss. Add some to boiling water. The resulting gel is the medicine." Suddenly, the sun began to drop down into the horizon and nighttime quickly followed. "What is this?" Luna asked, looking around cautiously. Something didn't feel right. A creeping sense about the environment made the skin crawl under her dark blue fur. Neil gasped, feeling the air grow denser, like someone placed a weight on his chest, making his body feel weaker. Luna's soft eyes hardened towards the origin of the thing encroaching them from the darkness. She stood tall, unflinchingly waiting for this foul thing to reveal itself. The feeling grew too much for Neil to bear and he lost his nerve. "We need to go, Luna!" "The infection is what concerns me, not the visions that lurk in thy dream. They cannot cause any true harm." "I would agree; but, you don't understand what I've been throu-" A horrible howl echoed from the shadows. The incubus returned and a beastly shadow bane of great size crept from the dark thickets. Neil’s jaw dropped at the manifest heinousness before him. The bane was enshrouded in a dark veil. It had wings, a scorpion tale, and bright red eyes, glaring at the boy and Princess with a murderous savage fury. “I see thee, monster!” Luna opened her wings wide and her horn glowed a dim hue of dark light. “Neil, have courage! I shall banish this bold abomination.” It angrily stomped the ground and snarled at the Princess to get out of the way. “Foul spawn of darkness, thou dare threaten me?” She bared a mouth of fierce sharp teeth and hissed at the abomination as she advanced a few steps forward. “What art thou waiting for, beast? Have at thee!" "What are you, dream Rambo?" Neil screamed in terror, "leave me and run!" The shadow bane lunged at her in midair, its claws poised to shred her apart. Unafraid, Luna simply waited for the beast to fail in its objective and phase through her. Neil managed one last measure of strength and tackled her out of its way, its meat hooks narrowly missing the warrior Princess. Unfortunately, Neil wasn't so lucky. Luna gasped as its weapons tore bloody gashes in Neil's side and back. “It cannot be!” "I told you." Lying on top of her, quivering, Neil desperately attempted to move his body, to no success. The numbness was taking over. Luna considered the unholy beast once more. Her eyes widened in terror, for this toxin induced nightmare behaved like an Incubus, a self aware nightmare which fought back against its host's will. If such was true, of all the problems she prepared for tonight, this was the last she'd consider. The Princess bit her lip to compose herself, thinking all this was madness. Focus, Luna. She reminded herself, The shadow bane must be dealt with first. Neil sighed in defeat and weakly smiled at the Princess. “Thanks for your kindness and help, Luna.” His fearful eyes watched the shadow bane approach with death in its red eyes. "You've done all you can. I don't care if you're real or not. Do not let that freak get you. Go." Luna was unable to save herself from her nightmare; she was not about to fail Neil and let this one take him. Narrowing her eyes at the abomination, she gently set Neil aside. “’Tis alright, Neil. Thou shalt not sufferest this terror under my night alone!” She turned to meet the nefarious bane again. "Neil, I shall distract this beast and grantest thou an opening to wake thyself up! 'Twill be difficult, but we must try!" Neil just lied on his back, watching Luna stand up for him. The dark monster leaped forward to slaughter Neil and Luna with its massive claws before they could escape it. Luna cast a ward spell over them both. The roaring beast's claws raked over the barrier and the stinger of its tail bounced off. She saw the human just stare on dumbfounded "Why dost thou hesitate? Wake thyself now! The window is open!" The ward held, but weakened with every brutal blow. Luna winced under the intense assault, as its power began to challenge hers. "Thou must succeed, or the shadow bane will smite thee! Thou canst do this! Believe!" Neil vied against the numbness and pushed with all his will. His deadened hand slowly began to clinch. With one powerful thought, born of a pure need to live, the boy imagined himself opening his eyes. He could see the clearing and finally found his the way out of this crazy dream! It's working! Luna smiled. "Remember the long hanging moss. I shall await thy return, Neil" The dream blurred and two slits of light brought Neil back to the real world. Neil's eyes slowly opened to the painful perception of sunlight beaming from the canopy. He felt so weak and the corners of his vision waved like water. The worst headache of his life pounded inside his skull. It was so hard to move, for the boy's body felt almost like dead weight. Despite all these immediate issues, he smiled. The boy had survived his first night in this hell.