//------------------------------// // Years Later: Perpetual Support // Story: How the Tantabus Parses Sleep // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// Flurry sat in her bed, staring at her open closet door, her blanket pulled to her chin. Even with her dark-adjusted alicorn eyes, blackness yawned inside the frame, concealing all that was within the closet. And who knew what the darkness hid? Flurry. Flurry knew. What was inside that closet was awful, terrible, unthinkable, the worst product of this day and age, every eight-year-old’s worst nightmare. She hated what was inside, but she knew she’d never be rid of it. What was inside that closet would always be there and her parents would never understand. She would always be tormented by it, unable to do a single thing. She would have to sleep in this bed, opposite that closet, full of the knowledge of what lay beyond that darkness. Taunting her. Forever. And so, although she tried to remain strong, Flurry began to cry. Shining Armor was jolted from his sleep at roughly the same time Cadance was, a scant half-second after Flurry’s first sobs began to ring through the palace. His paternity senses were tingling strongly. He didn’t get up immediately, though. He lay and listened to the tempo of the cry, its timbre, its intonation. Was it the usual cry or a new one? …The usual. “My turn,” he mumbled to Cadance. He loped out of bed, fumbled with the floor, and managed to stand up. “Thanks, honey,” Cadance murmured to her pillow as her husband stumbled out of the room. Shining made his way towards Flurry’s room, attempting to blink the hallway into focus. They could’ve had servants for this, but he and Cadance had both decided that, no, Flurry needed to be taken care of by her parents. She needed to grow up to be well-adjusted, and that couldn’t happen if the ponies who were watching out for her could leave if the pay wasn’t good enough or they got bored. Her parents would personally be there for her, whatever it took. No matter how very very, very very, very much they rued that decision. Fortunately, Flurry’s room was nearby and it didn’t take long for him to reach it. He pushed open the door and squinted into the darkness. Flurry was sitting on her bed, sheets drawn tight around her, eyes as big as dinner plates as she stared at the closet. The second she saw him, she wailed, “Daaaaaaddyyyyyyyyyyy!” “What is it, sweetie?” asked Shining, although he already knew the answer. “There aren’t any monsters in my closet!” “I know, sweetie.” “All the cool stuff happened before I can remember it! I wanna see you and Mommy beat up a monster! Just once!” Shining didn’t have the energy to bite back a sigh; fortunately, he didn’t have the energy to sigh, either. He again told himself it was just a phase and again failed at convincing himself. He dragged himself over to Flurry’s bed and sat down next to her. “Come on, honey. I know you won’t see any neat monster fights, but look on the bright side. Equestria’s safer now. We’re at peace.” “No one gets to beat up monsters in peace!” Deep breaths, Shining. Deep breaths. Deeeeeep breeeaaaths. “Okay. Why don’t I tell you the story of how Mommy and the Great and Honorable Uncle Spike the Brave and Glorious saved the Crystal Empire from Sombra?” It was a favorite of hers. Nothing quite like tales of attempted child murder, PTSD attacks, assaults by arcane tyrants, and throwing your wife like a javelin to send your daughter to sleep. Sniffling and wiping down her eyes, Flurry nodded. “Okay. It was almost ten years ago. Mommy and I had just gotten married…” “So is it your fault or mine that Flurry wants to watch us fight monsters?” Cadance mumbled. She took a drag from the coffee pot like it was liquor. “Twilight’s,” said Shining. “Flurry keeps hearing stories about all the monsters Twilight and her friends have beat up, so she wants to see that for herself, and we’re around.” He snatched his waffles from the toaster, grabbed the other coffee pot, and stumble-walked to the table. “So not her personality?” asked Cadance. Already, she was looking more alert from the caffeine, even if that bar was record-settingly low. “Nah, not yet. That’ll come when she’s, oh, fourteen and wants to fight monsters herself. Really wants it and knows the risks and it’s not just a childhood obsession.” “As long as she’s not waking us up at 12 every night, I can live with that.” “Even if she’s waking us up at 1 every Monday morning because she’s in the emergency room?” “Yes. More overall sleep.” “Well, when you put it that way…” “And she’s an alicorn, she’ll be fine. I know that from experience.” Another gulp from Cadance. “Besides, when she’s that old, she’ll be old enough for us to talk to her and convince her to wait until her monster-hunting excursions can be parentally supervised.” Shining smiled. “Yeah. That’ll be nice.” “But until then…” Cadance opened the top of the pot and stuck her muzzle in so she was breathing in an atmosphere of boiled caffeine. Shining gave his own coffee a chug so his brain would stop making weird noises as he tried to use it. It worked at least well enough to shut down the worst of the noises and reduce them to just sounds. He arced his neck back, working out the kinks in his spine. He loved Flurry, truly, but he also loved sleep. Now, if only one wouldn’t get in the way of the other, well, that would be a dream. (He snorted as his still-starting-up brain thought using “dream” metaphorically in relation to sleep was almost peak hilarity.) But that would require satisfying Flurry’s nightly need for monsters, and- Ding. He sat up straight, looking out at nothing, thinking. That could work. Maybe. If- “You look like you just got stabbed in the rump,” said Cadance. “I think I know how to help Flurry,” Shining said. “Want to hear it?” “No. I’d have to think and I need to save my brainpower for Princess Akili and the rest of Zebrabwe’s shamare delegation.” Cadance downed a large gulp of coffee. “Just don’t go Sparkle crazy.” Shining raised an eyebrow. “You know,” said Cadance, blearily mustering some sort of defense. “Blowing everything out of proportion. Especially when it’s insignificant. Remember when Twilight nearly destroyed her castle making pudding? Or when you used Canterlot’s security to protect a tinfoil crown?” “What’s so insignificant about the Hard-Won Helm of the Sibling Supreme? It was a Sparkle family tradition for almost half a generation!” Now it was Cadance’s turn to engage in eyebrow elevation. “But don’t worry, Cadydid,” said Shining. He leaned forward and kissed Cadance on the cheek. “I promise I won’t go Sparkle crazy.” In Shining’s defense, as a prince, personally contacting a princess wasn’t remotely crazy for him. Even if that princess didn’t exist physically. Years ago, when he was concerned about Flurry’s dreams, Shining had learned a little bit of oneiromancy. He didn’t need it anymore, but he still knew it. Including how to send out messages. So that night, he stepped from the river of wine onto the shore, shook himself off (habit), and sent off a letter. It wasn’t long before the air rippled and from it strode Princess Moondog. Celestia and Luna were alicorns and they were big. Cadance was an alicorn and she was getting big. Twilight was an alicorn and, while not big just yet, she was finally taller than Shining (much to his chagrin). Moondog was an alicorn (usually), yet she (usually) was not big (usually). She was still smaller than him, as a matter of fact (usually). She hadn’t even changed her default appearance all that much in the years since her accession, merely swapping her starlit mane and tail for an auroral mane and tail, and even that just seemed selected to make her body a little more diverse. Weird that the active shapeshifter hadn’t changed all that much, but that was Moondog for you. “Evening, sir,” Moondog said. She swept a leg across her chest and bowed deeply. “Everything going well in your imperial phase?” “Well enough, Princess.” Shining bowed back. “Figured out how to duplicate yourself yet?” “Mom, I wish,” snorted Moondog. “I’m almost there, I know it, but… bleh.” “Talked to Discord about it?” “The day after Twilight supports illiteracy. Anyway…” All at once, a business-suited Moondog was sitting behind a bureaucrat’s desk, a scroll and quill floating before her. “Whaddya need?” “You know Flurry and her obsession with monsters.” “That’s presumptive,” Moondog said as the quill poked Shining in the muzzle. “Also true.” Shining waved the quill away. “So I was wondering if you could do anything to help get her to sleep more. You’re good with illusions; maybe if you make her see something scary, it’ll calm her down.” He wasn’t sure how that would work, but he knew it would. “Hmm.” Moondog scratched her chin. “I think I can do that, shouldn’t take too long.” “You don’t mind?” “Of course not. Can’t manage your dreams if you’re not asleep to have dreams, right? Gimme a sec to think. Out of curiosity, any particular reason why you came to me?” “You’re always around, in a way. Let’s say convenience.” “I am pretty convenient, aren’t I?” Then Moondog’s ears went up and she rubbed her hooves together. “Ooo, better idea than just making her see a monster. I bet it’ll get her to go to sleep for ages. Buuuut I’d like to get your opinion on it first, since…” Whiteness flowed across her coat and her wings shrank as she morphed into a copy of Shining. “…I’d kinda be you.” “Why? What were you thinking?” Daddy had closed the closet door. But Flurry still knew what wasn’t in the closet. Her life would be boring. She would never change the world. She would never have cool adventures like Auntie Twilight. She would never even have a tussle with a bear, and not just because Aunt Fluttershy disapproved. With all that, how was she supposed to be cool? She was just- The door to her room opened up and Daddy walked in, holding a spear. The sight was enough to remind her of the awesomeness she’d never experience and she began to tear up. Then she noticed the way his ears were folded back and he was staring at the closet. “Did you hear that?” he asked in a low voice. After a moment, she shook her head. She didn’t know what he was talking about, which was a pretty good sign she hadn’t heard it. THUD. It’d come from the closet. Flurry changed her shakes to nods. “What is it?” she asked hopefully. “It’s complicated,” said Daddy, “but Auntie Twilight says the closet’s structural archetypal framework metaphysically links it to Star Swirl’s mirror, and encabulated arcanoresonance sometimes causes the two to behave similarly thanks to quiddity entanglement, so sometimes the closet lets in… things.” The information echoed as it went into one of Flurry’s ears and came out the other, but she still nodded. Auntie Twilight knew what she was talking about. “Now…” Daddy tightened his grip on the spear and inched towards the closet. “Let’s see what we have…” Flurry realized she was holding her breath as Daddy crept ever closer. A dimensional portal to monsters! In her own closet! If that was real… Finally, Daddy reached the doors. As he placed his free hoof on a handle, he glanced at Flurry. “Stay strong, sweetie.” He trotted in place for a moment, took a deep breath, and threw open the closet. There was nothing inside. Nothing except five piercing eyes, staring out and glowing orange in the darkness. “Oh my,” squeaked Daddy in the second before a tentacled shape pounced. Flurry scrambled to the foot of her bed to watch. Daddy had been Captain General of the Royal Guard, once, and now he was captain-generaling the stuffing out of that monster. His spells were slinging, his spear was swinging, and his battle banter was biting. Even with its ambush, the monster didn’t stand a chance. And for the first time that Flurry could remember, she watched her daddy doing something cool. It was everything she could’ve hoped for, even though she didn’t recognize the monster. A fight, a real monster fight, right here in her room! It was wonderful, and with the knowledge that this sort of thing could still happen, even in this day and age, Flurry’s anxieties were cut away. By the time Daddy had thrown the monster back into the closet, sealed the rift, and bade her good night, Flurry was ready to sleep. And being eight years old, she never quite noticed that what she’d been told made no sense, nor that all the sound had never attracted anybody, nor that the scuffle hadn’t even made a mess. “Why don’t I remember anything that happened last night?” Cadance asked. She was staring at her glass of orange juice as if flabbergasted that she didn’t need coffee that morning. “Because you got a full night’s sleep and so weren’t awake to remember?” Shining offered. “Oh. Right. That’s what I’m feeling. I’d nearly forgotten it. Do you know how long it’s been since I last had a good night’s sleep?” “Seven moons, two weeks, and three days?” “Seven moons, two weeks, and three days.” Cadance stared at her juice for another moment, then raised her head. “Flurry didn’t wake us up last night?” “Flurry didn’t wake us up last night!” Shining declared. He punctuated this with a pro-level pancake flip. “Huh. Your plan worked?” “My plan worked!” “Huh.” The two looked at each other. “Should I be worried?” Cadance asked. “Trust me, it’s safe,” said Shining. “Alright.” Cadance looked a touch skeptical, but returned to staring at her cup. Shining quickly looked around the kitchen and poked his head out of the doorways. He couldn’t see Flurry anywhere near them. He removed the pancakes from the griddle, set them on their plates, and put the plates in front of the relevant pony. Lowering his voice, he said, “Princess Moondog pretended to be me and beat up an illusory monster in Flurry’s room.” Cadance’s ears twitched. “How did- Wait, you just contacted her with those spells she taught you years ago, didn’t you? And she just… went and did it? Just last night.” “I was surprised, too, but you know what she’s like.” “Yeah.” Silence, which Shining took advantage of by taking some bites of pancake. A full night’s rest actually let him appreciate the taste for once. His mouth was still full when Cadance said, “Give her my thanks when you get the chance.” “U’hh duh vuh,” Shining promised. Swallow. Which, unfortunately, meant waiting sixteen hours until night again. Perhaps he could’ve taken a nap and justified it as “royal duties”. But he didn’t just need to sleep, he needed to dream, and that was hard to do while napping in the Crystal Palace. Especially since a full night’s sleep for Flurry meant she’d be even harder to handle today. (But Shining had also had a full night’s sleep, so it balanced out.) Sleep came easily that night, even though Shining had been well-rested that morning. Circadian rhythms were something else. Once he remembered that fighting off a chimera with candy canes wasn’t normal (and completed the job anyway), he sent out his spell. For a moment, nothing. There slammed into being around Shining a massive hall, not unlike Twilight’s throne room in Canterlot. On one side twisted a nebulaic starscape; on the other stood windows depicting images of Equestrian history in motion. The surface of the floor beneath him rippled with each step he took and the color of the torches was constantly shifting. “So!” a voice thundered. “You’ve returned, have you?” Shining turned around. Moondog, now with Luna’s proportions, was sprawled across a throne like it was an easy chair, looking for all the world like some casually dismissive evil overlord. Grinning at Shining, she boomed, “I trust my boon last night was sufficient?” In her normal voice, she added, “Because you and Cadance’s dreams were never interrupted, as far as I can tell.” “It was great!” said Shining. “I actually managed to go for a full eight hours without my daughter wanting the world to be more dangerous. Cadance also says thanks.” “Excellent! My work here is done.” Moondog rumbled. She sat up straight and spread her wings from wall to wall. “May your nights be ever safe and may your sleep be ever deep.” She promptly collapsed back to her normal size, almost looking like a foal sitting in a too-large chair. “I’ve been thinking of getting more regal, y’know?” she said casually. “Adding some magnificence to meetings, as befits a princess. Only at the right time, though, don’t wanna scare anyone off. Ah, well.” She disappeared from the throne and immediately appeared next to Shining. “Seriously, though, glad I could help with Flurry. Let me know if you need anything in the future.” “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties-” began Shining. But Moondog cut him off with a wave of her hoof. “I’ve gotten real good at this. Pretending to be a monster for a minute won’t even be a blip.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” “Great!” Then Moondog whispered in Shining’s ear, “So when’re you gonna tell Flurry?” “When she has her own daughter who’s disappointed by the lack of monsters in the closet, probably,” said Shining. “Then she can ask you for help, and… I just started a tradition, didn’t I?” “Maybe! We’ll see how it pans out.” “You’d still need to be around, though.” Moondog chuckled, her form slowly disappearing. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here as long as I’m needed.”