//------------------------------// // ERE 3: Mare Somnia // Story: Odd's Oubliette: Otherwise Obsolete Oddities // by Odd_Sarge //------------------------------// Once, Luna found solace in sleep. Amid the trials of the Long Cold, she had dreamed: Luna slept through the wicked whinnies of the Windigos, and Celestia warmed them with the fickle drips of magic that clung to their alicorn bodies in a time without magic. Her elder sister watched over her night after night, hoarding their superficial warmth away from other desperate ponies. In those many years ago, she had fed and sheltered them both as they struggled to move their developing bodies across the frozen land of Halihoof. And in sleep, purpose sought Luna. It came without notice in the wake of Discord’s defeat: with but a calling thought, Luna was able to pluck a scene from memory, vivid and rich. Starswirl and Celestia had called her blessed, though their reasons differed: her mentor saw vast spells and magic she could call upon with ease; Sister saw a means to compartmentalizing their apparent immortality. Starswirl saw her limitless aptitude, and Celestia saw her resilient mind. But within a matter of months, they had withdrawn their utters. Luna saw all nightmares. It didn’t matter who the mind belonged to: so long as they were a pony, Luna was forced to their nightmares in sleep. Fear overwhelmed the fortress of each mind, and her inability to control her own emotions turned Luna away from sleep for many nights. But then she had seen Sister cry. As she had grown accustomed to, Luna sought the aid of Starswirl first. But he saw no major benefit to Equestria through aiding her. Instead, he traveled the eastern coastline of the ravaged kingdom, hunting monsters and maleficent entities, with only a few words spared in counsel through scroll. Cornered, she was forced to face the nightmares on her own. Her dread proved to be a self-deception: the apparitions that plagued her new subjects feared her to a fault. She was quick to squash each encounter, ruthless with the methods employed against the monsters in the minds of her ponies. Each victory became a treasured memory, steps of foundation toward what Luna hoped to be mastery in the world of dreams. In her ceaseless war against the visions of Discord and Chaos, Luna flourished with purpose, and once more found solace in sleep. With Sister’s renewed smile, at last, she had returned comfort once given. A ray of warmth splashed across Luna’s withers. She peered through her quarter’s window at the setting sun, slinking from the bedspread as she went. At the window, she stood still, eyes shut. The sunlight caressed her fur as it went, eventually dipping out of view, and leaving her cold as before. She stayed there for long, easing her eyes into a gaze across the tree-filled horizon. Her horn lit, and she watched as the sky darkened to blue and purple. The day yielded to her influence, revealing the swirling plane of bright, far-off stars, their twinkling light formerly hidden beneath her sister’s sky. Through the now frosting pane of glass, Luna saw the distant Canterhorn flash to life with lights, and she smiled. As moonlight began to beam down on the forest before her, she cut her magic short. There was a knock on her door. Luna’s smile faded to bemusement. “Your Majesty?” The question came softly. “Are you awake?” She turned swiftly, bare hooves clicking against marble. She took a breath, exhaling through her nostrils. “Enter, councilor.” The door opened, and the guards beyond shut it quickly behind the chocolate-taupe earth pony. The stallion bowed curtly with his neck. “Princess Luna, it’s good to see your safe return.” She quirked a brow. “And a blessing to thy health, Focal Glass. What hast brought thou to seek us?” Luna began to walk to the side of the room, and the stallion followed. “Well, the Office of Protocol has undergone major revision since your establishment in Canterlot. You may have noticed that Princess Celestia has created a schedule for her day.” “Yes,” Luna interrupted, stepping into the small, but royally-outfitted washroom. “We hath seen our Sister at work.” Glass stayed at the doorway as Luna made for an ornate chest in the room’s walk-in closet. “Princess Celestia requested that I assist you in developing one. I thought it prudent to see you as soon as possible so that I might accompany you, and have your word on a schedule that would work for you.” Luna’s ear twitched. “Very well. Continue.” Her horn lit with magic, and the trunk opened. From it, she levitated out her regalia: four polished, blue hoof-shoes, and her onyx peytral pressed with a waxing crescent. “Er, well…” He turned his gaze down as Luna started to slip her regalia on. “I suppose setting a time for levee would be a good place to start.” “Levee?” Luna scoffed as her peytral slid down her neck. She glanced back at Glass, and levitated a black, fabric-covered box from the trunk. “We have no such need. Tell us, who should desire to see us in this late, evening hour?” The latch on the box flipped in her magic, and the container clicked open. Glass looked up. “Many late travelers arrive during dark, Your Majesty.” He watched as Luna brought her small black tiara to rest. “If anything, Princess, you should have servants to tend to your waking needs.” He paused. “Do you require any assistance?” “No.” She paused. The box shut, and she returned it to the chest, closing it as she turned back around. Her far-away eyes shifted to Glass, and she bowed her head. “But ‘tis kind to ask, Focal Glass.” “Of course,” he said. He craned his neck again, allowing her to pass him. “And such company would be of use. We accept thy suggestion.” Glass beamed as he stood. “I’ll make note of that, then.” “What more hath thou set for us?” “Well, if I may…” Again, Luna said nothing. He continued, “It would be good to show you the most recent additions before the halls get too dark.” Luna allowed the stallion to open the bedroom’s door for her. She gave him a glance as she passed. “Then you shalt do as such, councilor.” “Of course, Your Majesty.” Glass swallowed, and followed after his princess. Luna left her quarter with an entourage of four, and no more joined her. The two guards held back, and Glass walked beside her, eyes shifting between her and the rest of the castle hall. They passed a few the lamp-lighters—the pegasi flit diligently about, lighting torches, candles, and chandeliers, circling past the group and toward Luna’s quarter. Not too much further down the hall, they trot past the quarter of Princess Celestia, where it became clear that many of the lights had already been lit. “Curious,” Luna muttered. “Hast it become custom to light the halls early?” Glass tilted his head. “It’s almost winter, Your Majesty. The nights have been growing darker and longer.” “Longer, indeed, but they art as bright as before. We ensure our moonlight shines where our subjects tread.” Luna turned to Glass. “Art thou not charged with keeping track of this schedule?” Glass’ ears pricked upward. “Actually, Your Majesty, Chief Rending Gale maintains the castle’s indoor and outdoor lighting. It’s been that way for several weeks, now. Though, I’m afraid I don’t know the reason for that transfer of authority.” The princess hummed. “We see. ‘Tis most likely an outcome of recent threat reports. Timberwolves roam Everfree. They hath done well to evade our sentries thus far. Very well. And yond this hall lay the newest wing?” Glass shook himself. “Yes, Your Majesty.” It was clear to even the common laypony that much work was still left to be done. The interiors of the many offices appeared gutted, devoid of both wall tile-work and flooring. Each branch of office went several rooms deep, each less complete than the last. Even in the hallway they were standing in, gray slabs of stone were missing altogether. Luna pursed her lips as she peeked into one of the rooms. Glass held back, eyes trained on the intricately-woven tapestries of the sun and moon overhead. After a meager spat of inspection, Luna returned to the stallion. “’Tis not much now,” Luna commented. “But it will serve us well. Tell us, what plans hath thou for these… offices?” “My plans, Your Majesty?” “Thou hath plans, dost thou not?” Glass licked his lips, and bowed his head low. “I work at the will of Your Majesties, Princess.” “Our will?” Luna frowned. “We had taken thee for quite an accomplished scholar, Focal Glass.” She eyed him for a moment. “Your words disappoint me.” Glass shivered. “Walk with us.” Luna spun to continue down the unfinished wing. Glass turned to the guards behind them for support, but the only response he received was a single paling smile. “We expect much of you, councilor.” Glass cringed. “I—” “Allow us to finish.” Luna didn’t look back, and she had no need to; Glass didn’t speak again. “We chose you personally. And we must say that we were… weighty, with our hoof.” Luna led him down another hallway. His eyes shot about, his face scrunched with nervousness. “Thy work with thine looking glass is most impressive, and it brings us great pain to hath no time to gaze upon it.” Relief sapped the energy from Glass’ tensed muscles. “Oh. Well, I couldn’t take it from my observatory in the Foal Mountains without destroying the housing.” “…We know.” Glass nearly lifted his leg fully, poised as if to smack himself, but stopped. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Pardon my interruption.” Luna looked back as she walked. “Thy fear is unwarranted, councilor.” She turned back around. “Perhaps thou art in need of nourishment as well.” Luna paused in thought. “Dinner would be a fine addition to our schedule.” Glass nodded numbly. “And thou art a talented individual. But thy calling lays above thine schedules. Thou hath observed our charge more closely than any other, and we are certain thou hath surpassed our mentor in this affair.” She stopped before the dining hall doors, and turned to the wide-eyed stallion beside her. “We wish to speak at length on this, councilor. But food I shall provide thee, and we shalt continue with thy schedule-crafting, as we see thou art keen on shying from this greater purpose.” The guards of the dining hall opened the doors, and the princess strode in. Glass stood where she left him, staring. “I…” His head drooped, and he followed after. The dining hall of Everfree Castle paled in comparison to that of Canterlot Castle, but it served a different purpose. Where the Royal Canterlot Banquet Hall was often called upon to serve many mouths—though mostly for noble functions—Everfree’s hall was more reserved in seating and decor. But for what it lacked in presentation, the dining hall excelled in non-obfuscation. Even from the side entrance of the dining hall, Focal Glass was able to see Equestria’s finest artisans at work in the open kitchen at the end of the hall. The low marble walls granted complete clarity to meal preparation. Dignitaries and representatives expected to be greeted with Equestria’s finest dishes, and the ability to witness a meal’s life and birth was the pinnacle of equine culinary arts. It was suffice to say that the meals crafted in the hall were produced with an iridescent quality seen nowhere else. And yet, the smell of plain oatmeal clouded the air.