//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: Beyond the Veil of Sleep // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Mira couldn’t say how long she lay there alone, with only her tears for company. More than once she heard wings outside. Kallisto shouted, demanding for her to emerge. Step out so her dream-self could be murdered, and she would wake up again. If she was sent back to the waking world, then nothing would change. Nightmare Moon would stay gone, the bats of Equestria would continue to suffer. They deserved better—the race that could construct great cities and journey across the unconscious realm and fight a whole nation on their own deserved a second chance. But could Mira fight for it alone? Eventually Kallisto’s shouts grew further away, as the bat wandered a greater distance in search of her quarry. Mira remained curled up in the little room, silent and still. There was no apparent passage of time in the world outside—no rising of the sun to banish one day and start another. That same perpetual fog never wavered, even moonlight casting the whole city in perpetual malaise. Finally, something changed. Mira heard it faintly—scratching against the door, so quiet that she could barely make it out. She might not have heard it at all, if she hadn’t been hiding for so long. The sound was so small she probably would’ve just ignored it—a bug, maybe, or a small animal. Nothing that she needed to worry herself over. But it got louder, a tearing into the wood. Was that loud enough for Kallisto to hear from outside? Probably not, even if she was right outside the windows. Is that something she sent? Some hunter to track me down and kill me? Mira probably should’ve remained where she was, hiding until any trace of danger had fled. But she was no elderly master, and she lacked the patience. Sooner or later, she would have to face her fears. Will it hurt to die in here? Mira crept to the door, ears alert. With the curtains drawn she could see nothing outside—but it had been hours since any shadow passed over her window. Kallisto was probably long gone. There was no way to look through the door without opening it. Apparently the creatures here weren’t worried for their own safety. She still had to unlock it, peeking out through the narrowest possible crack. “Whoever you are, you better not attack me! I’m dangerous, and I don’t want to get sent away!” There was nopony there—at least until she looked down. A little ball of fluff sat on the floor near the ground, one paw still lifted with claws extended. It was a cat—a tabby, one she’d seen earlier that night. “Oh.” She let go of the door, and it swung inward a little further. “Didn’t think I’d see you again. Must’ve been walking for hours.” The little creature looked up at her and mewed, loud and annoyed enough that it almost seemed like a reply. Then she rose, walking forward through the open door with a slow, dignified gait. She marched right up to Mira, rubbing once against her foreleg, before continuing past her into the kitchen. Mira hadn’t even bothered looking at the space. This was just a dream, so it wasn’t like she needed to eat in here. But the instant she thought about it, she could feel her stomach groan. Real or not, physical or not, Mira would feel a lot better with a nice juicy moth in her stomach. Or some mushroom, or anything really. The cat stopped just before a strange-looking cabinet, one that towered over Mira and made a gentle humming sound as they approached. Then she mewed again, gesturing towards it. “I don’t smell any dried meat in here, kitty,” she said, ignoring the metallic-looking cabinet to open and shut several of the others. Lots of brightly-colored boxes, but nothing familiar to her. No flanks of dried meat. Mira wasn’t too good to eat meat, if it came to that. Dried fish was better than starving. But the smell was strong, and she could see none of it here. The cat mewed again, ramming its little head into the base of the metal box. It didn’t have a simple latch like any of the others—instead, Mira had to struggle with the handle, until she could take it in her mouth and finally yank the whole thing open. She stumbled backward a few steps, eyes wide. But that was all far less interesting than what she saw within. A wave of cold radiated out from inside, spreading a thin mist on the floor at her hooves. The little cabinet had the frigid air of winter trapped inside! The space within was mostly empty, except for a clear glass pitcher. Milk, it was called? Luxury of luxuries, made for unicorns so rich they could house and feed an entire group of other creatures just to harvest a little milk. The little cat mewed again, satisfied. “You’ve got expensive taste, little one,” she muttered. But it wasn’t like Mira would use it. Ponies didn’t just drink the stuff, it was used in baked goods. Like eggs, but even more absurd. Mira found a little bowl, settling it on the ground in front of the cat before filling it with milk. She settled the pitcher back where she’d found it, going back to the cabinets to search. These bats really did live in luxury. Cold whenever they wanted it, their own stove and supply of food. Mira searched through the other cabinets until she found something edible. Another brightly-colored box, though this one was covered in images of flat crackers. She fiddled with it for a time, before tearing it wide open with her mouth to get at the crackers inside. They tasted flat and stale, but at least it was something to fill her stomach. Do I even need to eat here? Can I starve to death? She still had a real body, lying on the ground beside her dead teacher in the monastery. How long did she have before that body got sick and starved? I have time. I don’t need to save the world myself, just tell Nightmare Moon how bad things are. She’ll rush back home to save her ponies after that! She glanced to the side, and found the cat had lapped up a little of the milk. “Good luck, cat,” she whispered, walking past her out the kitchen. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” She left, walking slowly down the central hallway. She could’ve gone for another opening, and flown out a window. But that motion would be obvious, even from far away. That was the way bats got around. But there was another way. Mira reached a round stairwell, stretching down through the towering building towards a distant ground floor. Her murderous teacher wouldn’t be able to kill her if she never saw her. Kallisto wouldn’t be able to come with her. She couldn’t guide her through the Dreamlands. She couldn’t protect her and help her find Nightmare Moon. Mira was alone. She walked slowly down the steps, taking each stair with the solemn hoofsteps of the damned. All this care to hide, and Kallisto might notice her the instant she stepped outside. She could still get killed, and lose this chance forever. The pony who should’ve been her strongest advocate wanted to get rid of her. “Wait for me!” called a voice, so tiny that she almost missed it. Mira looked up, and found a little figure lingering on the top step, about a flight above her. She hadn’t gone far yet. Mira froze, turning to stare up at the cat. “Did you just…” “Yes,” the kitten declared, exasperated. “Get back up here, long-legs. I already came up all these. You can carry me down.” Mira turned, climbing back the way she’d come. She hadn’t come very far yet, so it wasn’t like she was losing much progress. “How are you… Actually wait, this is a dream. I guess it makes sense that cats can talk. Why not?” “Why not indeed,” the kitten said. She took a few steps back, wiggling her little rump. Then she jumped, landing on the railing with surprising dexterity from such a small animal. She hurried along a few steps, before jumping again, this time directly at Mira’s back. She froze in place, holding still as the cat fell towards her. She knew the instant it hit from the brief, sharp pain of claws digging into her back. But it wasn’t like the cat was trying to scratch her. It only held for a moment, just enough not to fall off. “Wait! I didn’t say…” She hesitated as the cat crept between her wings. She stopped near her neck, but didn’t attack. Little teeth like that were probably too small to do much damage anyway. This was no assassin. “Who are you?” “I don’t know,” the kitten said. Its voice was wistful, pained. “Confused. Maybe a little lonely. Mostly bored. Who are you?” “Mira,” she said flatly. She spun slowly, back towards the steps. This absurd cat might have followed her all the way here, but she wasn’t going to lose time because of her. She still had a princess to find. “I was asking for your name. But I’d settle for why you wanted to find me. I’m not very good at caring for animals—I’m on a mission.” She felt little claws dig into her back as she started back down the steps. Without claws of her own, Mira couldn’t be sure how much strength it took. But it felt like the cat wasn’t being particularly courteous. Did it really need to hold on so tightly? “That is why I followed you. You’re going somewhere. I felt it swirling around you, I feel it much stronger now. You have purpose. You want things. I want to be with someone who wants things.” Maybe she should shake off the little animal and glide down to the bottom floor. But as irritating as those claws could be, the idea of going the rest of the way alone was worse. “Do you know anything about the Dreamlands? I’m trying to find somepony. Maybe you could help me.” “Help you…” the little voice said. “Yes, you smell like you need help. Me too. We can help each other. Right now you should help me find somewhere warm. I just had a great meal, and I would like to rest.” She didn’t slow. Amazing how such a little voice could sound so confident. The kitten spoke like she knew exactly what she wanted. That made one of them. “I’m looking for the Explorer’s Guild. I mostly need them for maps, but they should have gear for me to steal. Maybe they’ll have saddlebags I can wear. You could sleep inside… but I don’t know how long this trip will take. “A warm fire would be better. Or a nice rock in the sun. But the sun never rises in this place. It’s always gloomy, all the time. I don’t know how you long-legs stand it.” There were little windows every flight, each one in exactly the same place. Mira stopped beside one, hesitating long enough to stare out into the not-quite-night. “It’s nice. But you’re a cat… I’ve seen plenty of cats awake at night. You hunt, don’t you? Not the same things we hunt, but…” The cat made a dissatisfied sound, not quite any specific word. “Nothing wrong with the night. Day creatures get lost and bumble around, knocking over things. But you need the daytime eventually—to rest where it’s warm and wait for tomorrow.” “I don’t know how the weather works here, but I’m not staying. I need to get up there.” She pointed with one leg, up at the faintly glowing disk of the moon. “Might be a long trip.” The cat circled once on her back, before settling across her with legs trailing down either side. “If we must. Who am I to question the horse with too many wings? Don’t knock me off during the climb, or I’ll have to claw you.” She yawned loudly, then started to snore.