//------------------------------// // Prologue: Water Would be Delightful Tonight // Story: But For a Dream // by Doctor Axiom //------------------------------// Court was blissfully short tonight. I do not think I've had a court session this brief in half a generation. And in this age, that notion grows ever more meaningful as the generations grow longer. I hold my darksteel crown in my hooves and study my reflection for a moment. I have come so far, and so far away, from where I began. My reflection smiles back at me. I think I really am ready for retirement. I hang my crown on my armor stand and stretch my wings. With that I am free of all my regalia, save my torc. I step through my balcony door. Tonight is perfect for a long flight, and I shall not encumber myself more than I must. I relish the feel of the cold marble on my bare hooves. I should shed my shoes more often for my patrols. I cannot deny they look impressive, nor can I deny their utility in a fight, but battles are few and far between in this age, and I am the Bringer of Night. I need no regalia to impress or awe. Not anymore. I take a galloping start and leap from the edge, diving off the tower. My eyes are closed and I reach out with my other senses, feeling and calculating. I flare my wings just as I pass the second story and pull up to match the rooftops of Canterlot. I roll to bleed off my velocity. Then I open my eyes. Two guards flanking the gate have noticed me. The more seasoned of the two salutes me, and I've managed to frighten the other one into a state of dishevelment. He glances at his superior and then also salutes as I cruise overhead. I grin. The Night feels good. I veer right as I pass the gates and head for the edge of the city. I've been neglecting the northeast recently. My sister has her schedules and routine visits to our cities, I have my patrols. I go where I feel is appropriate, depending on the state of the kingdom, the dreams I have walked, and, admittedly, what I want to do at each moment. The air is fresh and pleasing, but it is a warm night. Somewhere with water would be delightful tonight. Perhaps a quick stop by the Neighagara, and then on to Manehattan. I glide over the city wall and look to my moon rising over the horizon. By the time I reach Manehattan my moon is shining from almost directly overhead. I tarried far too long resolving the dream of a young griffon on the night train to Canterlot. She was besieged by dancing steaks, of all things. I understand they are a rarity and delicacy for griffons, given most species that can provide such a cut of meat are sapient, and it was initially nigh unfathomable why she would find them so terrifying. After some educated guesses I eventually gathered they were the result of repressed feelings she harbored for a coworker. I make a mental note to check in on her next week and verify she has properly faced her fears. I descend through a few clouds and alight upon the Ajax tower, scanning for disturbances or anything that requires immediate attention before I perform my less physical duties. There is a subtle art to dream interpretation. Things are often simpler in dreams. But that is also their great deception. If you first assess the meaning of a dream even slightly incorrectly, you will condemn yourself to misinterpretation for the rest of the dream. Fortunately, while I am not infallible, I have a natural talent for matters of the mind, tempered and made formidable by centuries of experience. I finish my scan of the area. Satisfied that there are no other situations requiring my immediate attention, I close my eyes and prepare to meditate. Reality pulses and my senses fade away. The Dreaming looks different to everyone who enters it. Some see doors in a labyrinthine set of hallways, others see a vast forest with scattered pools of water. To me, The Dreaming looks like an endless field of stars that I may walk among. I have yet to meet another dreamwalker that perceives the space between dreams as the constellations I see. Though, truth be told, I can count the number of other dreamwalkers I have met on the first row of an abacus. Manehattan has a vast set of constellations, more stars, more dreams, than I can count at a glance. There are a few nearby stars that are immediately interesting. I choose one and walk towards it. The star I am interested in is tinged red in color, generally indicative of a recurring nightmare or otherwise very disturbed dream. It has a few strong connections to some nearby stars, likely family, and a few scattered connections to far away stars, which are usually coworkers or acquaintances. I reach out and touch it, and enter the dream. Fire. Guilt. A sense of neglected duty, and a sense of fear. A unicorn with a blue coat and slicked ginger mane stands at the center of a chemical factory of some kind, being chastised by the forepony for something. He is sweating heavily. I observe silently, waiting to understand the dream before I act. The view jumps to another part of the factory, where the stallion turns off a furnace of some kind. I watch from a catwalk above. He turns away from it to attend something else, and the furnace re-ignites with a brighter flame. He turns around with a shock and turns off the furnace again. As soon as he turns away, it relights again, and this time the fire blazes out through the gate of the coal chamber. He begins to sweat more heavily. He turns to the furnace again and extinguishes its flame. This time it ignites itself again immediately. He begins to cry. He makes another futile attempt to turn off the furnace before I turn away to explore other parts of the dream for clues. I follow the catwalk over the wall to another large room and take the stairs to the factory floor. I walk to the end of the room and open the door labeled “Head Office.” The desk has a variety of unrecognizable objects on it, which I know not to focus too hard on resolving into concepts lest I disturb the dream. The wall however, has a very distinct clipboard, that carries the feel of importance. It has a sheet of paper on it labeled “Boiler Shift Schedule.” On every day, and every time period of the boiler shift schedule, a single name is repeated: “Swift Ribbon.” I believe I understand enough of the dream to intervene now. I will myself to materialize in the boiler room where Swift is working. “SWIFT RIBBON,” I call. He yelps and stumbles away from the boiler, which is now completely engulfed in flame. “P-princess Luna?! W-what…?” “This is a dream,” I gently state. The boiler extinguishes itself this time. His face floods with relief. “Oh, oh thank the stars!” He sits down and wipes his face with his foreleg. “I… I don't think I could have taken much more of that. I don't know what I was thinking-It's…. It's not even my shift-I don't even work today!” I pat him on the back. Another advantage to unshod hooves. “I don't even remember falling asleep.” He sniffles. “Are you sure this is a dream?” I reach out into the dream with my mind and pluck at the fabric of it. A ripple shimmers through the air, expanding outward from our conversation. Swift Ribbon watches it in wonderment. “I'm sure,” I declare with absolute certainty. “Were you afraid you had left the boiler running at work?” “I-yes. I forgot to last week. My boss really chewed me out.” “Have you had this dream before?” “No, I don't think so.” I frown. Swift Ribbon is still sweating, oddly, though he looks much calmer. In truth this dream did not feel like it would become recurrent or otherwise jeopardize the unicorn's psychology. It was better I brought this to a conclusion and patrolled the Manehattan dreamscape for more pressing dreams. “Be at ease.” I smile. “You are not responsible for any disasters, and you have learned from your mistake. And besides—” I wink, “if it truly worries you I can check your boiler after I patrol the dreams of the other ponies here. Where do you work?” “Oh thank you Princess! It's the Polomare plant, I work in the dye processing area. You don't have to though, I live right next door and I can check on it myself if I want to.” “It would be no problem, Swift Ribbon. Will you be fine?” “I think so Princess!” He's still sweating, but I let it go. Royalty makes some ponies nervous after all. Some for different reasons than others. I regret winking. The last thing I needed was for this dream to go purple. “I see.” I raise my horn to the sky. “Pleasant dreams then!” I pull myself from the fabric of his dream and re-enter the dreaming. Honestly. My sense for dreams must be off-kilter today. I surely thought that Swift Ribbon's dream was of some significance. I frown and look around the stars of Manehattan's dreams. My eyes widen at the sight of a cluster of dull flickering stars to my right that might— “Princess?” A small voice from behind. The shock almost knocks me out of The Dreaming. My eyes wide, I turn to find a small thestral filly with a grey coat and light yellow mane. She couldn’t be more than 13 years of age. She looks at me with wide hazel eyes and quivering lip, and asks: “Am I dead?” It takes me a beat to gather my thoughts and respond. Maybe two beats. She continues to look at me with that sad expression. “Neigh, child,” I begin, “You are not dead. You are in the space between dreams.” Her sad expression gives way to one of confusion. “You are quite young for a dream walker,” I continue. “Is this your first time in this place?” I can see in her face that her confusion has been doubled by my inquiry. That is not what I expected. She looks up at me. “I thought I was dead.” Her lip begins to tremble again. “There was a fire… and the floor started to go down and mom jumped to push me—” She begins to cry in earnest. “And then I was here.” A pit begins to form in my stomach as I consider a possibility I overlooked. We are still in the part of the Dreaming representing the east side of Manehattan, and if there is a real fire, there was more to Swift Ribbon's discomfort in his dream. I sit next to the child as she cries and she leans against my side. “Child,” I ask, “what is your name?” “Hazel,” she responds. I gently lift her chin with the tip of my wing. “Hazel, I need you to tell me precisely where you live. Your life may be in danger.” “4320 Hoofdale Way. Apartment 404.” She pulls back and wipes her eyes with the crook of her foreleg. “It's in the textile district.” I nod, and with the mental balance brought by a millennium of battling one's self, I close one eye and open it in the physical world. I glance toward the east side of the city. There is smoke, and a flickering red beneath it. I pull myself hastily back to the dreaming to consider my situation. My first thoughts are a few colorful curses. For all my mental balance I must have said some of them out loud because Hazel looks shocked. Fie, and fie upon me! I misinterpreted Swift Ribbon's dream. I am a fool! There was no subtlety to its meaning, he was simply far too warm in the physical world. This situation is EXTREMELY unfortuitous. The fire must have started just after I first entered the dreaming. Though time moves more slowly in The Dreaming, I have no more time to lose. I glance around, taking in the count of the stars I see in The Dreaming to quickly assess how many are in danger. Far too many stars around me are flickering and losing brightness. I must act quickly. Fortunately, Twilight did me the courtesy of enchanting— Damnation! Twilight's haste enchantment lies abandoned at my armor stand with my shoes. I can activate the distress spell I keep on my torc, and my smoke form alone will have to do until help arrives. But perhaps—I can keep at least one pony safe with certainty. “Hazel, do you see this here?” “This star?” She points a hoof at the dull, grey, flickering thing and nods. A pit forms in my stomach at its lifeless appearance. “That is a dream, Hazel. Dreams that look dull and flicker are all ponies in danger from the fire. I am coming to get you Hazel, and every other pony in danger from the fire.” “P-princess?” “They are arranged roughly as the ponies are positioned in the physical world. Look around and see if there are safe areas.” She looks around and shivers. “I'm going to help wake you up now. If you can get to a safe place, do so. If not, try to stay calm, and cover your snout with something so you don't breathe the smoke.” “I-I—” She puts on a brave face, glancing briefly at the dull gray flickering star. “Okay. I can do this.” I flare my wings and prepare myself mentally to cast a few spells as soon as I exit my trance. “I will come get you shortly, Hazel. Be well.” I see the stars reflected in Hazel's eyes as she begins to flicker out of the Dreaming. I do not wait for her to wake fully. I myself must wake quickly and act decisively. The last thing that occurs to me as I leave is Hazel's description of the dream I pointed to. She also perceived it as a star. I will attend to that when time is not of the essence. I need to get to 4320 Hoofdale Way. I barely spare a moment to activate the emergency signaling rune on my torc before I dissolve myself into smoke and fly. Sensation is limited with a self-applied transmissible particle spell, but I gauge the approximate extent of the fire as 2 full city blocks, centered on the Polomare plant. The wind is blowing out to sea, so spread into the city will be slowed, but there are still a great many ponies in danger. Floydien Avenue, Amber Drive, Davenport Way, Hoofdale Way. Even though the majority of the smoke is being removed by the wind, there is a slight haze here and it becomes difficult to see clearly while in my smoke form. I coalesce slightly to gain more sensation. A full 2 blocks around the Polomare plant have been set alight. I can feel the heat slightly even from here. I pass some ponies walking away from the blaze. 4480, 4425, 4340, 4330, 4320. A group of ponies is running from the building, but here is no sign of Hazel among them. I reform myself fully and carefully fly around the outside of the building. I don't see a sign of her outside or on any of the fire escapes. I frown. The first three floors glow with a dangerous heat, and smoke billows from many of the windows of the fourth floor as well. I hear sirens. The fireponies have begun to arrive. They will have too many buildings to cover. I cannot wait for them. I split myself into two forms. Two sets of eyes and ears is better than one, even if multiform limits the complexity of my thought processes. One of me enters the north end of the building through an open window above the fire escape, and the other of me observes from outside to better assess the situation. The north end of the building has the higher numbers. 420, 421 around the corner. Just before I turn to explore the lower numbers, an aquamarine pegasus bursts out of 418, coughing, and I assist her. She seems scared, but oddly unsurprised to see me. I assist her and move to fly her out of the window at the end of the hall, but she pushes me aside. “No. Princess, I can fly myself out. She said to tell you there’s nopony else on this floor, but three more ponies on the floor below us who haven’t left yet. You have to help them. Go!” “She?” I ask, but the mare is gone, as must I be. With my first self I continue through the hallway to room 404. The door is already open, and I peer inside. The floor has given way and the entire room below is alight. There is debris, and the figure of a dark-coated pony with bat-like wings lies below. I jump down in desperation and begin to clear material as quickly as I can manage. My second self I draw from watching outside to break into the third floor window on the north side away from the flame. There is a pale gray unicorn pointing her horn at the window, ready to blast through. She looks at me in relief and powers down her horn. There is an earth pony waiting behind her. The stairwell at the other end appears barred by flames. Three of the doors in this hallway have been broken. I sense that the door at the end is where my first self is. I grab the two ponies and fly out of the window. My first self can release the pony trapped by debris. It is a thestral with a midnight blue coat and a jet black mane. An adult. A dead adult. This is not Hazel. This must be Hazel’s mother. I cannot afford to tarry so I sling the thestral across my back and buck out the door. I carry Hazel’s mother to where my second self has deposited the other ponies. An ambulance has arrived. Some additional survivors are coming out of the ground floor door. Two pegasi are carrying a unicorn and an earth pony down from the roof. I coalesce my multiform to scan the crowd properly. A black earth pony bursts out of a ground floor window. She spots me and bows. “Princess! The little bat girl says I’m the last one in the building aside from her and her neighbor. She says they’ll be on the roof.” I nod and immediately take for the roof. A dark blue earth pony is on the top of the building. He waves to me as I ascend. He has a familiar little thestral clinging to his back. She seems still asleep. “She’s been finding all the ponies,” the pony begins in a gruff voice. “Finding them in their dreams and telling me who needs help. She says we’re the last ones in this building, but she’s trying to wake up more people in the next building.” I pick up one of them under each foreleg and glide down. Hazel’s eyes flicker open, and she begins to cry. I deposit the blue stallion and attend to her. “She’s gone, isn’t she?” I nod empathetically and venture- “You didn’t wake up after I left?” “No. I... I went into her dream.” I understand now. I hold Hazel as her tears redouble. “You are very brave, Hazel. You did an amazing thing today. You saved lives.” She’s weeping gently, and silence seems appropriate. I simply hold her. I see purple on the horizon, and with a flash of lightning my backup is here. Twilight unleashes a beam of light into the sky. A storm begins to gather and within seconds there is a torrential downpour. She stops near me for a quick hug and then moves to coordinate with the emergency responders. The rest of the night passes in a blur. I assist moving the injured and freeing trapped ponies, and Twilight extinguishes flames wherever the fireponies cannot. Finally I rest in the back of an ambulance with Hazel, who has had her right wing bandaged. Her burns are mild enough that they will heal with time. We never did find Swift Ribbon. He must have been the one of the first to perish. My blunder cost him his life. I shake my head. No. Not just my blunder, but poor circumstances as well. If I weren't here to witness the blaze, dozens more would surely have perished. It does not do to dwell on mistakes of the past once we have ascertained how to avoid them in the future. I should be glad I managed to save what ponies I did. Like Hazel. I look at Hazel fitfully attempting to rest in the stretcher. She is a prodigy. Dreamwalking at this age, and so proficiently too. There is one good thing to come from tonight, and I will be watching her with great interest as she matures. I expect great things from Hazel Dreams.