Jordan paced around the edge of the room, watching Ryan and Blake work. This was the largest of the ancient outpost's structures, large enough to hold a dozen carts. He might've guessed it was for stabling horses, but that would require animals. As hard as it was to adapt to the conditions of this strange place, having animals around that looked almost identical to them was one bridge he wasn't mentally ready to cross.
"We need more redundancy against leaks," Ryan said, gesturing away from the cart they were working with to one that was little more than a large clay tank with wheels. A cart like that was probably meant to keep an expedition watered during a long trip through the desert. "I know it's heavier, but we'll just have to pull it anyway. That way the plastic isn't doing all the work. There's a good chance that thing is already watertight."
"Ceramics are heavy," Blake argued, again. "More weight will make us go slower. We have to mitigate the risk to Kaelynn to the guarantee of harm if we run out of supplies. We'll all die, she'll just go first."
I can understand why she wouldn't want to wait here alone. But that decision is going to make things more dangerous for all of us. He turned away, slipping out the back door before they could rope him into mediating their decision. That was usually Kaelynn's job, but she was stuck in the well, so...
This should be the most exciting bit of exploration they'd ever had. They would see things that others didn't even know existed, no more finding the signatures of previous crews before them.
Jordan poked into one of the outbuildings, nudging the ancient wooden door open carefully. The climate had preserved much of the ancient buildings, but even near total dryness could keep time at bay for so long.
When he ventured further out, Jordan had found the remains of tile roofs, along with low stone walls emerging from the drifting sand. Only the well and a few central buildings had survived, and only because they were nestled behind the strongest, sturdiest wall, which encircled the inner compound on all sides.
Red sand butted up against the wall all around, sometimes forming a natural ramp all the way to the top. Getting a cart full of water over this wall would be its own adventure, but it was one they could solve a little later.
Jordan didn't flick on his headlamp as he poked into the old outbuilding. Given the nature of their trip, none of them had solar or other renewable power sources. As soon as their batteries went out, they'd be gone for good. But even with the roof and walls intact, so the building was entirely cast in deep shadow, he found he didn't mind. His eyes adjusted, and he forgot that he was in the dark at all.
Something he had in common with Ryan, along with the wings. He might've thought their species were related, if the bug wasn't so subtly disturbing. But would I rather be like him, if I were still male?
It had been long enough now that Jordan ran up against some of the changed biological realities of his situation. They all had to use the same old outhouse, except for Kaelynn. But he couldn't even ask her for advice, on account of communication becoming so difficult.
Jordan stopped abruptly, eyes focused on a bit of glittering metal he hadn't noticed before, shining out from between the loosening boards of a desk.
He approached, feeling along the desk's surface for some way to get it open. But even this cursory inspection was too much for it, and the old wood splintered and crumbled at his touch, collapsing into a mangled heap.
Jordan shoveled through the mangled wood as best he could, until he reached his target. A heavy cloth bag, which unraveled further at his touch. But inside, the unmistakable shape of metal coins. They looked like gold, and when he lifted one in his mouth to carry it out towards the others, felt heavy enough that it might actually be gold.
It was real enough that he wouldn't have left the bag behind, if he thought there was any chance other people were lurking somewhere. But they hadn't seen any hint of other people, horselike or otherwise.
As he returned to the warehouse, he found the others had made more progress on the cart. Apparently the giant clay one had won out, because they had several layers of plastic sheet spread on the ground in front of it, and Ryan was lowering the first piece inside.
Jordan dropped the coin onto a side table, one that didn't instantly collapse at the slightest perturbation. "Hey guys, check this out."
The coin on the table in front of them resembled many ancient currencies Jordan had seen, though he wasn't enough of a nerd to care about the nations and histories behind them. A crude metal disk only approximately shaped like a coin, with an image stamped into its surface. There was a simplistic sun on one side, similar in pattern to the design from the bathhouse walls. Text wrapped around it, reading "The Sun Rules Eternal".
How can I read that? Jordan squinted down at the writing, growing increasingly concerned. Even if these coins had been minted by descendants of the humans who used the portal, shouldn't they be in French, not English?
He had to fidget around with one hoof to flip the coin over, bracing it against the side of the desk, then lifting slowly. The other side depicted a simplistic horse, vaguely resembling Ryan. It was lengthy and far more elegant, but even on a coin Jordan could make out feathery wings and a horn.
"You found a coin?" Blake asked, prodding at it. "A gold coin. Wonder what that's worth."
"I found about fifty of 'em," he corrected. "I think whoever used this place was trying to keep them hidden, but that's hard to do when your furniture is rotting."
"Pity we might have to spend them," Blake muttered, prodding the coin with a hoof. "But it's probably easier to barter with old coins than the gear we brought with us. Do you need help gathering any of it?"
"Probably not," he answered. "My backpack should have the room. What's the story with the cart?"
"Getting there!" Ryan called, poking his head out of the pot. Jordan's stomach twitched at the sight of those insect eyes on a creature so large. The feeling was entirely irrational, and he fought it down as quickly as he could. This was a friend, not some alien monster. He couldn't let himself forget that. "Ten minutes and we should be ready to bring this over to the well and start filling. We don't have any real pumps, so it's gonna be tedious as hell. Don't wander too far, you're helping."
"Sure," he said noncommittally. "I can't wait."
He did help, though several hours spent lifting bucket after bucket out of the water and into the pot made him contemplate going back to try his luck against the monster of Paris.
At least it made for good practice, much as he hated to admit it. Working with hooves instead of hands required constant focus, lest he drop whatever he was trying to grip between his hooves. Using both forelegs was easier, but then he needed something to brace his belly against, otherwise fall over.
None of them—with the possible exception of the fish, could hold a bipedal stance, even for a few seconds. But they brought over some old furniture to use as steps, and soon they had a decent bucket-brigade going.
It was nearly nightfall by the time they finally finished, and the plastic-lined pot was overflowing with water. Despite removing so much liquid, the well had barely dropped a few inches, suggesting some vast reserve they couldn't see.
"It makes the most sense to travel by night," Blake said. "I thought about using two carts, but that would mean nobody gets a break. It will take two to pull a cart full of water. We might as well load up everything we can alongside the tank. Every can of food, every useful object from this base here. It doesn't look like anyone still uses the place to be upset with us for stealing."
"Another entire day here?" Ryan asked, annoyed. "The longer we stay here, the more likely they'll declare us dead."
"Does anyone even know we went into the catacombs?" Jordan asked, circling slowly around the full cart. "I told my family I was going to Europe, but that was it. I'm not in the habit of sharing how I plan on breaking the law."
Blake nodded. "Remember Jolie? I told her to tell the police if I didn't call her for two days. Which means they're probably finding out right about now. If they search at all, they'll start where we went in. Hopefully they don't run into whatever that creature was."
There was a long, painful silence between them. Even Jordan didn't have any quip ready about the demon he'd seen in the shadows. A little like a horse now that he thought about it, with too long limbs and blades twisting to points instead of hooves.
"I didn't believe in monsters," Ryan muttered. "I wish I still didn't."
"Not possible," Jordan said, before he could stop himself. "We're all monsters now. I think you're probably the spookiest of all of us. You could really scare some kids on Halloween with that face."
To his surprise, Ryan actually seemed to understand that he was joking for once. He chuckled, which came off more like a high-pitched vibration than a sound any mammal should make. But he got the point, that was the important thing.
Blake didn't. "Don't be cruel," he said. "We're all freaks now, Jordan. Glass houses. Besides, he kinda looks like the creature on the coin. For all you know, his kind might rule this world. You should practice being more respectful before you insult their king."
That night went much like the night before, sharing a meal of canned food around a small campfire. Pity they hadn't been on a formal camping trip, or else they would've been better equipped for all this. Instead of cooking on a proper camp stove, they had to bend some wire from a camera harness to hold the can directly over open flames. It worked, but wasn't particularly appetizing.
In theory, they'd decided to turn the little building beside the well into their makeshift bedroom. In practice, Kaelynn stayed in the well, Ryan snuck out to join her, and their leader was asleep after the first ten minutes.
That left Jordan alone to stare up at the moon through a narrow opening in the glass. No matter how much he tossed and turned, there was no comfortable way that didn't crush his wings. Or worse, put pressure on the strange configuration of new organs he didn't want to think about.
Ignoring his physical changes did not make them go away. But I don't care. I'm not changing my life, I don't want to change anything. I'm going to swim back the way we came and be the exact same person I was before. There was no fear over having the change "stick" and ruin the rest of his life, he'd already been back through. Just pretend it isn't happening, and life will eventually go back to normal.
Better than normal, assuming they could get anyone to believe their story. But even the convention circuit of flat-Earthers and conspiracy theorists would probably make for a decent side hustle. And unlike the other losers, he could tell them the truth.
Jordan wasn't aware of any moment where his waking state transitioned into unconsciousness. He didn't feel particularly tired with the darkness, probably a product of those stupid wings and the other improper features. But boredom was its own sleeping medication, if he was determined enough to stay in bed.
Soon enough, he realized he wasn't curled in the makeshift sleeping mat. Rather, he stood in a vast, dark space, surrounded by endless stars. Before him was a set of steps, each one so large that he could barely take them without tripping on tiny legs. Jordan was naked here, but this was no source of stress. It wasn't like the clothes he wore did anything to cover him anyway. Some of them could serve a practical purpose, but most seemed like it was just for fashion.
Obviously none of it was needed in a dream.
But in the way of dreams, having the new body didn't seem strange, and neither did the steps. He wasn't just going to sit here and look at the stars: something was calling to him. So he climbed, bouncing from hoof to hoof and occasionally spreading his wings to keep from falling. Unlike in the real world, it seemed perfectly natural to fly here. What was the point of having wings otherwise?
He got into a rhythm, body moving automatically, while his mind focused on the irrelevant physical details. Carved stone platforms, each one disconnected, slightly uneven. Yet covered in toolmarks, as though it had been built with painstaking care.
He was so engrossed in the irrelevance of it all that he bounced off the last step and into open air. He squealed in surprise, an entirely animal high-pitched squeak. As soon as he realized he was falling, the dream complied, and his wings stopped working. He fell. He might've fallen forever, it was hard to know. It certainly felt like that long.
Then he landed, and somehow the impact wasn't fatal. He bounced and rolled, and came to a stop in a strange cavern with stone on every side. A temple, maybe, with carvings on each of the walls? He groaned, but there was no pain, only vertigo and disorientation from being looped over and over so many times.
The room wasn't empty. As Jordan looked up, he realized there was another bat, crouching nearby and watching him nervously. "First time with Oneiromancy?" he asked, offering a hoof toward Jordan.
He took it, pulling himself into a standing position. That single moment of contact was all it took to make the world seem suddenly stable. The bat was taller, just like all but Ryan were taller. Only this wasn't the abandoned waystation in the desert.
"I don't know what that word means," he said, staring at the bat. The horse looked very similar to him, though he was taller, thicker built, and with a pair of larger wings. He had a mark growing on his fur, just like Jordan and Kaelynn did. His mark was distinct, a moon that was either halfway through waxing or waning. There was a way to tell, but Jordan couldn't remember. "This place doesn't feel real, but you do."
The horse smiled at him, with an expression that Jordan recognized. It wasn't the kind he'd felt terribly comfortable receiving before, particularly from someone the same sex. "Oh, I see what this is. You're not practicing in one of Luna's monasteries... you're just talented. Dreamwalking by accident is pretty rare. Might be part of your special talent. Let me get a good look at that cutie mark."
Jordan suppressed a laugh, realizing about halfway through just how absurd his denial would sound. "Dreamwalking" wasn't possible, when changing into a horse and going to another world was? Obviously he needed to rethink all of what he thought was possible.
While Jordan thought, the other bat horse had circled around him, staring straight at his entirely bare ass. "How'd you get this, stranger? Was it for something magical?"
Jordan couldn't even interpret the question at first, expecting it to be about the other biology back there. But something about being with someone so confident made him hesitate. This horse knew things. They didn't act like the character of any dream he could remember, even the lucid ones.
"I got it when I walked through a hole in the universe," he said. "One minute I was in the sewers under the city, the next I was here, looking like a horse, with that mark on my ass."
The bat's frown deepened. "I've never met an ass with a cutie mark. You shouldn't lie, even to strangers. I'm trying to help you."
"And I wasn't lying," he shot back, feeling braver by the second. This bat might be bigger, stronger, and infinitely more knowledgeable—but this was also just a dream. Nothing could hurt him here. "I came through a hole in the universe—an underwater portal, below a city. When I popped up, I had that."
It wasn't much to look at, way less interesting than Kaelynn's. Jordan's mark, apparently his "cutie mark," was a curled mobius strip in the shape of a cartoonish heart. If anything, he thought it was part of the cosmic joke that had left him either worst off for the transformation, or decently in the running.
But this bat didn't seem to think so. He made a few thoughtful sounds, before walking around and resting a hoof on Jordan's shoulder. To be precise, he put an arm there, tilting his head up to meet his eyes. "You dream-traveled into Equestria?"
"If that's what it's called. Didn't feel much like a dream, though. This is a dream. Except you're real. And I'm real... where is this, anyway?"
The horse watched him for a few more awkward seconds before finally letting go. "We're at the threshold to the Dreamlands, where the minds of all sleeping ponies go until they wake. We share the magic of the night princess. Some of us are gifted to imitate her powers—Oneiromancy. Dreamwalking."
He pointed with a wing, and not in the fumbling, awkward way that Jordan could move them. He aimed it, and Jordan realized that wasn't a cave wall at all, but a massive doorway, large enough to swallow a tour-bus and leave room for seconds.
"And why are you out here, instead of through there?" Jordan asked.
His mouth opened, but he didn't reply. After a few seconds his eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. "I don't even know your name, pony. I want to be nice, but... I don't have to answer to you."
"Fair enough." He stuck out his hoof, like he was going to shake. "I'm Jordan!"
The horse—or pony, apparently, took the offered hoof. There was no way to grip it without thumbs, but he bumped up against it in a decently friendly way. "And I'm Pale Light. Jordan, you said? That's a strange one. What clan are—"
But he didn't hear the rest of it. The world swirled and melted together. Before he'd even realized what was happening, it was gone.
Jordan woke up.