Mira followed the bat down his winding steps into a world of shelves and scrolls. The space didn't seem terribly bothered about fitting into the apparent dimensions of Meridian's tower, but sprawled out in all directions as big as the old temple in Understory. They had to fly to navigate between its maze-like balconies, which were arranged about as nonsensically as any dream could be. Mira was certain she spent a good few minutes walking on the ceiling before they finally found their way to the first shelf that interested Meridian.
He removed one scroll wrapped in an ancient leather sleeve, then slung it over his shoulder and kept going.
"Meridian, I am... curious," Sandy said, following just a few steps behind the two of them. "Even for a dreamer, her request seems... esoteric. The moon is so far above. I have known many to be entranced by its light and try to fly there. It is better when they simply fail, but some do not return."
"Moths." He waved a dismissive wing. "Yes yes, anywhere is possible." He continued along the shelf, selecting a few more scrolls. These he shoved towards Mira to carry without so much as a request. "The Dreamlands is not a realm at all, Sandy. It is the absence of placeness. It is the foam that froths between all worlds, the condensed essence of intelligence."
Mira lifted her wings, that way she could hold the stack of scrolls as it grew taller. "When you say worlds, do you mean—"
"Yes, yes." He pointed one hoof vaguely in her direction. "There are numberless worlds besides the one you live on now. The moon is not actually a different world, though. It's a different rock in the same one. The same realm, if you like." He looked back, taking in her confusion. He scoffed, waving a hoof through the air again. "Nevermind. I'm not sure how you plan on getting there if you know so little about the Dreaming, Mira."
"I..." She met his eyes with difficulty, shivering under the pressure. He was right, of course. This mission was well beyond her capabilities. "I don't have a plan. Getting there is going to be much harder than anything I've ever..." She stiffened. "Someone has to do it. Would you rather be the one to go?"
He chuckled. "You may be ignorant Mira, but you're a living dreamer. You have power here that I could never wield. When you've been in the Dreaming for long enough, you become part of it. The time will come for you, eventually, when you grow old, and your body dies."
They walked together to a nearby table, and she dumped the scrolls she'd been carrying. Meridian began arranging them, reading the strange symbols with a glance before opening and unrolling each one. To Mira they seemed far closer to ship navigational charts than a land map that a pony might follow. But maybe that was a good thing? "I guess the power you're talking about will help me get there?" she asked. "Not that I know anything about how to use it. My teacher could do all kinds of amazing things here, but... she was the only monk left. She rarely had the time to teach me."
Meridian barely looked up from his work. He overlapped the different charts. Mira could make no sense of the arrangement, but it seemed meaningful to him. The corners of some had writing, though they were just simple words. "Fear" or "Anger" and "Despair." Those three took the center spot, arranged in a triangle with an opening in the center.
"First thing to know about Dreamlands travel: abandon any sense of physical congruity. Emotional connection is what matters here. Related feelings tend to border each other, unless for some reason they don't."
The moth settled down on her haunches beside Meridian's table, watching intently. They said nothing, and kept far enough away that they didn't interfere.
Her cat, by contrast, hopped right up onto the table and began prowling around it all, occasionally dislodging one of the rolls, or knocking an empty scroll-case to the ground. She wasn't nearly as graceful as she thought she was, apparently. "I’m done being inside," she said, tail swishing dramatically. "Can't this wait?"
Mira ignored her. "The Moon is on this map somewhere?"
"Right there." Meridian touched his wing into the open space between three overlapping scrolls. "If I did my figures right. I haven't had to navigate past a single planet since I was almost as young as you are." He stalked over to her, voice low. "Have you heard the term lunacy before, Mira?" He didn't wait for her answer. "This is where you will find it. Swirling somewhere between anger, alienation, and terror. Where madness reigns, where memory and reason abandon you. Where the Outer Reaches extend their tendrils down from realms unimaginable to warp and twist. Beyond them, you will find the moon."
Mira looked at the map. Sure enough, the three layers he had arranged did have features that overlapped. There was nothing in the space between them, other than a sea or ocean of sorts, trailing towards nothing. "This here," she said, pointing at the edge of one of the maps. "I need to reach it, then sail towards the moon. That's it?"
He settled back on his haunches, mouth falling open. "Were you even listening to me, Mira? Wasn't I dramatic enough in my reveal? Terror and madness lie between you and the moon. It is no easier to reach in this realm than it would be to find the magic to travel there in the waking world. If Nightmare Moon is imprisoned there, then you should know the Dreaming is no tunnel left in the back of her cell. She is trapped beyond retrieval."
Mira gave that assessment all of three seconds of consideration before shaking her head. "Kallisto taught me that bats came from another realm, long ago. We've done trips like this before, and we made it. The trouble we're in now is just as bad as anything Star Drift led the Thestrals through. We don't have a choice."
Meridian clicked his tongue impatiently. "Maybe it is, Mira. But you aren't Star Drift. He was an ancient dreamer even before we left the old world. His powers were greater than the Alicorns that live on Equestria now. You are..." He looked her up and down. His ears flattened, and she could've sworn there was a flicker of red on his cheeks. It didn't last. "Precocious. Brave. Foolish. The universe is a cruel and unfeeling place, Mira. It generally rewards bravery with painful death, not victory."
"I'll go," Sandy said. Their words were so abrupt they seemed to surprise even themselves. They circled around the map, before resting a hoof on Mira's shoulder. "This is what hope stands for. This is the lighthouse in a hurricane. Have you ever seen hope burn so brightly?"
Meridian rolled his eyes. "You can't help be what you are, Sandy. But please, both of you, listen to me. This is not a journey to be taken by the sane. You will travel through horrors you can't imagine. And if at the end of it all you do reach the sea of madness, you will wish you hadn't."
"I don't want to go," Mira said flatly. "But there's no world for me to go back to if I don't. I can't go live in Erebus, it's gone." She advanced on him, resting a hoof on his shoulder. "It feels like your world needs Nightmare Moon too. Don't you want to be the hero who brings her back?"
He stiffened at her touch, both wings opening halfway, before snapping closed again. "You don't have the capacity to comprehend the danger. Maybe, maybe a powerful dreamer could complete the journey. But I'm not powerful, and neither are you. Sandy isn't even a dreamer, she's just a figment!"
"I have to go anyway," she said. "If you won't come, fine. Can you draw me a map? Combine all of this into something I can follow?"
He met her eyes for several tense seconds. He was the first one to look away. "Go upstairs and tend to your psychopomp. Her service will be critical to you if you hope to complete this... mad quest." He reached down under the table, removing a fresh roll of paper. There were a few other drafting tools down there, a compass and triangle and different pencils. Had Meridian made these maps himself? "Don't touch the telescope. Make yourself at home otherwise."
"Thank you." Mira let go of his shoulder. "Even if you don't come with me, I'll make sure they know who helped. You're still a hero."
Meridian laughed ruefully. "Bold of you to assume you're going to survive this, Mira. While I work, take some time to reconsider. Step out onto the balcony, see the city of Hope. You may decide it's better to... let the powerful creatures of the world do what they're going to do. There's wisdom in accepting your place."
"Wisdom, maybe," Sandy said. "But despair also."
They left together. Mira couldn’t even begin to remember where they'd gone or what path had taken them through the map room. Sandy was there to keep her on the right route. Mira grinned at them as they left Meridian behind. "Thanks, Sandy. I can't believe..." She looked away. "You don't know what this means to me."
"I do," Sandy said. They patted Mira on the shoulder with a wing as soft as silk. "Hope is stronger than steel, and sharper than magic. But left alone for too long, and it can go out. You need someone." They clambered up the steps, into Meridian's huge combined living area/observatory. "He may be right. This journey will probably be the end of me. But that isn't the tragedy he thinks it is. Hope is only meant to live long enough to get you through the darkness. Eventually you'll build something better, and you can live in happiness instead."
Mira didn't know how to respond to that. But she didn't have to, because the cat hopped up onto her head, claws tugging on her mane hard enough to make her yelp. "Open the door!" the cat said. "I need to get out."
Mira froze, fighting the instinct to shake the kitten off her head. She might not understand what possible reason there would be to have the little cat helping her, but she could trust these experienced dreamers. "Stop, stop! I'll take you."
"Good." The kitten hopped onto her back, without any particular gentleness. "These things are important, legs. You wouldn't understand."
She didn't understand, but she could at least walk the kitten to the balcony, and open the door. No sooner was it open even a crack than the little feline hopped past her, scampering out into the space beyond. She made it to the edge, and didn't even look back. She squatted down, shaking her rump for a few seconds, then leapt right off the side.
Mira gasped, hurrying out onto the balcony behind her. She looked down, but couldn't actually see the cat falling. "What?"
Sandy followed her out, a little more calmly. "You traveled here with a psychopomp, did you not? What did you think she was doing?"
Mira shook her head once. "I... what?" She stared down at the city below. The sunset outside was glittering orange on the bay, with water so clear she could see the rocky coral beneath. That water would probably feel wonderful, could she chance a few minutes away to enjoy it?
No, obviously. Meridian couldn't take too long to draw a map, could he? If she was gone, he might think she'd given up. Or worse, what if she could be tempted into staying here? "I don't know what that word means, Sandy. She found me outside Erebus, before it fell. She didn't really say what she was. Just... wanted some company."
The moth laughed. At least it didn't sound like there was anything malicious in it. "She travels between the sleeping world, and the waking. Like you, but... without the powers of a dreamer. She's a messenger of slumber. I'm told acquiring one is important for any dreamer who wishes to travel very far."
And having her around did make Meridian believe me. "So when she left..." Mira said. "She's going back to Equestria?"
The moth nodded. "I don't understand them very well. But they can bring more than messages between worlds—they carry power too. We are lucky to have her."
And I'm lucky to have you, Mira thought. But like the cat, she wasn't ready to admit it. Not yet.