//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: The Sun // Story: Knight of Wands // by Starscribe //------------------------------// The Sun The longhouse didn’t look like a longhouse on the inside. A younger Jackie—so long ago that she could barely even remember being that person—would’ve loved it. The entire structure was bright pink and lace, with artificial elegance dripping from every corner. There was no sign of the salvaged look of the village outside—it was the Lolita’s wet dream. Except that ponies all around her weren’t dressed the part. There were dozens of posing dummies around the edge of the room, each one wearing an outfit her college-aged self would’ve drooled over. But no one put them on. There was no explaining where the tribal ponies were getting hot silver trays of tea and desserts—but Jackie didn’t ask, and didn’t care. So far as she could tell, she didn’t need to eat any more than the spirits typically did. But the idea of eating again was appealing, and she took her offered seat at the head of the table. The others were separated along her side, each one with a tribal pony or two between them. Dressing up like these creatures might or might not have made a difference—even Moire was given a seat, rather than being penned outside like an animal. Jackie knew there was politeness expected at a service like this, and so she did nothing to argue with her hosts, nothing to stop them and demand answers. Not until the tea was served and they’d been offered a variety of little cakes and sausages and other such hors d’oeuvres. Distinctly human in selection—how long had it been since she tasted pork? “So why were you expecting me?” she asked, sipping her tea. “It seems you don’t need me. Your village is prosperous.” “The village is prosperous,” echoed the earth pony stallion, who had taken the seat opposite her on the table. “We do not need you, you need us.” “She needs a sanity check,” said Squeak, through a mouthful of biscuits. She was sitting on the table instead of a chair, but none of the villagers had reacted to that. Other than an occasional sidelong glance of disbelief. “I don’t think you guys are equipped. We tried.” “I do need help,” Jackie said. “I’m trying to find a connection back to the living world. I need magic from there, so I can find my wife.” “You need to find your wife,” said a pegasus girl from her other side. “These other things… not possible. But maybe your mission is.” How do they know me? There had been a time—not so long ago, even if it felt like ages—that Jackie was a dreamer of great renown. The entire Dreamlands shook when she decided to build Meliora, and there wasn’t a damn thing anyone could do to stop her. But now things were different. She didn’t expect a staff of random spirits to know what she was doing, anymore than she expected to be able to channel the magic for the insane things she’d done. Even now, thoughts of her creations filled her with confusion and awe. Misty had been created by accident, but she was more power than Jackie could now imagine. Her presence with them for a few minutes would probably have ended the entire mission. I’m not the pony I used to be. I’m just a ghost. What can I expect? “Do you know something about the dead?” she asked. “About… where I could find Ezri?” “Here she goes…” Squeak muttered, snacking cheerfully on another sponge cake. Had she somehow managed to get a dress off the wall since last Jackie looked sideways? How did it fit so well? “Don’t start, Jackie. Just… take a look around you for a minute. See, down the hall? Those are warm beds. Guess who they’re waiting for. And there’s a clean river outside, all this food…” “It is true,” the stallion said. “We have waited many years for you. It would not be… proper… to refuse you places here in the graveyard of dreams.” “What the hell is that?” Sarah asked. “This… doesn’t look much like a graveyard.” “Not for bodies,” agreed the girl. Jackie blinked, and found she suddenly recognized her. Through the pony costume, through the tribal nudity, there was a friend she’d had in high school. She had the same dimple on her cheek, the same sideways braid. The same voice. I never did tell you how I felt about you. That was why these villagers had looked so familiar, why she hadn’t been afraid of them. They weren’t villagers at all. Oh God. “But Ezri isn’t here,” Jackie insisted, rising from her place. The dozen or so memories all stared at her, more confused and fearful than anything. “Ezri and I were together! My only regret with her was letting her die without me.” “She isn’t here.” The stallion reached out, setting one hand on her elbow. Gesturing for her to sit. “You’re right. But we know… suspect… where you might be going. If you want to leave.” “But knowledge has a price,” said the girl beside Jackie, through a mouthful of sweet cake. “Always a price. Sacrifice nothing, and you gain nothing.” Jackie spread her wings. “I am everything you see and nothing else. I could give someone a memorable night… maybe you, sweetheart.” She shook her head sadly, turning away. “You could have. But you decided to take another road. Now you can’t.” “I can tell you where to find the knowledge you have been searching for… but to get there, you must leave one of your number behind,” the stallion said. “The choice is yours.” “I’m dangerous,” Jackie whispered. “More dangerous than I look. If you know what I need, and don’t tell me…” “You will kill us,” said an older, matronly voice from beside her. It sounded exactly like Jackie’s grandmother—though of course that woman had died even before the Event. “All of us. But you will leave ignorant.” Had this been a human village, Jackie would’ve called them on their shit right there. Plenty of people said they would be willing to die for things—but few actually meant it. But then again, Jackie wouldn’t have been willing to massacre women and children, even if they were being uncooperative. I have to look Ezri in the eye when I find her. That isn’t the pony she loves. But it didn’t matter, because these weren’t humans, and they weren’t ponies. Be they spirits, figments, or something else—there was no mistaking their behavior for human. They were a part of this place somehow, all sharing information, talking to her like they were the many mouths of the same creature. “Trade one of… us…” She glanced between the members of her group. She imagined Ezri sitting in the empty chair, watching. What did you give up for me? she could hear her ask. Who did you hurt? “I can’t,” she said, settling back. “I want to, but I can’t. I couldn’t if these were strangers, and they’re not. They’re part of me.” “Then enjoy your meal,” said the earth pony. “We wish you comfort and a safe journey to wherever you travel next. The forest is vast and filled with dangers.” Silence descended, with Jackie’s various copies and clones looking relieved. Except one. “Maybe somepony is sick of walking on this long road to nowhere,” Squeak said, buzzing over and landing beside Jackie’s plate. She adjusted her dress, settling her hat on her head. “Maybe this is more comfortable than crossing a wasteland. I already know I’m dead—maybe that’s news to the rest of you. Way I see it, if we’re gonna be in the Underworld… at least we can do what we love.” She looked around the room—at the outfits, the little plates and cups. “Good luck to you on your quest but you don’t need me. You never did, really. I’m small and useless and I don’t know how to fight or do supermath. At least by staying here… I’ve done something.” Jackie didn’t refuse her—how could she? She’d sacrificed her own life, or she wouldn’t be here in the first place. If a pony didn’t have that right, what did they have? The deal was struck, and Squeak shifted seats to the other side of the table. She wasn’t chained or locked in a cage, but it was clear she wouldn’t be leaving. “You have gone far, deeper into the many layers of memory and self,” the stallion explained, once the agreement was made. “When you have reached the center of the maze, then you will know. You must go further, where flames burn downward, and all light and darkness are reversed. Where even the dreams of dreams are forgotten. There you keep your wings folded, and your eyes will be open to the truth.” Jackie sat back in her chair, wondering for a moment if she’d just been cheated. The dreams of dreams, that one she’d heard before. It was a thought-experiment more than a reality, something she’d read in an ancient Equestrian tome. It proposed that just as the Dreamlands existed as a realm of ephemeral thought given form by physical dreamers, there existed another realm, an order of magnitude further removed from stability, where figments themselves experienced a state like dreaming. The cycle of abstraction might continue infinitely far back in that way, until one returned to the physical world or dissolved into featureless stardust. “Which way?” Jackie asked. “I like riddles, but we’re…” in a hurry wasn’t quite right, and she didn’t want to lie. “We’ve been on this journey a long time. We want it to end.” Was that even true for the others? She wasn’t sure. But they didn’t object. “Which way do we fly to get to this place, where… fires burn upside-down. We’ve already gone underground. We’ve gone into places that seemed digital, and through several different portals. Yet the world we’re in still seems the same. The Dreamlands, just… a distant part not on any maps.” The pony shook his head sadly. “I do not know. I know our village isn’t there, that you have further to go. I know how you’ll know you’re in the right place. But I can’t draw it on a map. Maybe one of you can.” “I have been recording our trip so far,” Moire said, the first time she’d spoken for some minutes. “There were some caves a little way back that looked promising. Thermal readings from the mouth suggested something was burning down there.” “Riddles are shit,” Squeak said. “I’m glad you all get to figure that out instead of me.” “Will you be… alright, tiny bat?” Sarah asked. “We might be able to…” She looked around, then lowered her voice. “Negotiate another exchange. To free you.” “I’ll be fine.” She sat beside her plate, her appetite for the little pastries apparently bottomless. “Look at all these outfits. I talked to one of the girls, and she said they’ve got plenty of fabric, and they do shows! They think I’m cute.” “You are cute,” Jackie agreed. “And we’re all grateful for you.” She wasn’t sure it was entirely true—but she was, and she could mean it. They got their first good night of sleep—Jackie’s first time ever sleeping in the Dreamlands. But if there was a realm of nested dreams in the unstable space of the sleeping world, she could feel nothing of it. But imitating the things she’d done while alive felt good—they made her feel more real. They left that morning, after one more meal. The others hurried from the village—but Jackie lingered in the gate, beside Squeak’s perch on top of a butter churn. “Are you sure about this?” Jackie asked. She’d changed back into herself in the morning—not by choice, the transformation had just worn off in her sleep. But the villagers hadn’t seemed to notice or care, so she was probably alright. “I can…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If you need me to break you out of here, or… I will. I don’t like leaving ponies behind.” Squeak was wearing another dress, an entirely distinct one from the night before, and no less adorable. She shook her head. “I know the way you like to do things. There’s a part of me that would like to go on more adventures. But I already got dragged along with enough. I really just wanted to go to school, keep my sister safe, have my hobbies… I failed at all of it.” She looked down, shifting on her hooves. “At least this way… I get something back. Sometimes that means saying goodbye. To the things we used to love—or the people. That’s part of life.” “Part of life,” she repeated, voice bitter. We’re not alive, we’re not on Earth. Nothing we think is normal means anything here. But she didn’t correct the little pony. Squeak was giving up everything to keep their mission on-track. If that meant letting her say some silly things, that was fine. “Well, we’ll miss you. You weren’t too bad to have along, pipsqueak.” “Don’t start.” She took off, looking embarrassed. “Don’t let the robot talk shit about me. Don’t let her forget we had to cut her out of jail.” “I won’t.” She scooped the little pony out of the air, hugged her tight with one wing. She could tell she was embarrassed—Jackie felt a little of that embarrassment herself. But it didn’t matter. It was the last time she’d ever see her. “Have a good life, Squeak. Whatever that means in here.” “I will. A cute, pampered pet. I think I’m overdue for some pampering.” They left a few minutes later, back along the trail towards the cave. It was the closest thing they had to a lead.