What was Bravery, anyway? What would a country be like whose entire nature revolved around that single feeling?
The answer, as it turned out, wasn't painless. They'd barely even crossed the final imaginary line in the territory of Hope that Mira felt the world change. The air went from the gentle cool of the sea breeze to desert heat, unlike anything she'd ever felt from home. Her jungle was plenty warm, but that warmth came with moisture, and the scents of many living things. Here the only smell she could detect was heated metal and stone, a desert that stretched forever.
To their left, rocky crags and burning sand extended inland, overpowering the fertile moors and charming farmland. Occasionally she heard the squeal of a distant predator, or maybe the bellow of a wolf. But those sounds faded almost as quickly as they came.
The desert seemed alive with its own activity—the rumble of rocks as they crashed down into each other, the hum of wind on the dunes. These sounds blended together to her ears, confusing her sharp senses with the constant background noise.
At least the sun was finally setting. Mira had enjoyed the warmth of Hope, but the cool moonlight felt far kinder on her eyes. Unfortunately that setting sun took much of the heat as well. Sandy started shivering before she did, pulling out a coat from their pouch and flinging it over their back. Mira had no coat, but that was fine. She tucked her wings in a little closer, and fought the shivers as best she could. "What kind of dangers should we expect?" she asked, hoping for something to distract her from her growing discomfort. "You said moths go this way sometimes?"
Sandy nodded. "Sometimes with messages to Chilon, sometimes because they're inspired by the ideals of this place. Hope and bravery are closely linked—why be brave without hope? What purpose is hope if you lack the confidence to do something with your opportunity?"
Mira had no answer to either question, so just nodded. "That makes... sense. So what do we have to worry about?"
"Not the residents. Being brave is a choice, so they don't like to force it on each other. We won't be attacked, as a visitor to Anger might fear. I have... never made the trip myself, but I have heard some stories. The land itself is hostile, and cannot be trusted. Keep your wings alert, and your ears open. We should expect some danger to overcome before we arrive in Chilon."
A little voice spoke from her back, so small Mira almost didn't hear it. But this was a creature she had been looking for, so the little cat's words still reached her. "The point of being brave is doing things you think are hard. It's not self-sacrifice or suicide, so it shouldn't be so hard it gets you killed. I think."
Mira stopped in her tracks, skidding through the dirt as she did so. She turned, staring down at her saddlebags. The kitten rested there, little paws digging into the leather. But she hadn't been moments before, nor had she felt her weight jumping up. Granted, the little animal was so small she was easy to miss.
"You're back," she said. "I thought maybe I should go back and look for you."
"Can't go back without waking up," the little cat said. "I don't think you want to do that. You're trying to go to the moon!"
Mira started walking again, catching up with Sandy a few steps ahead. The path took them naturally away from the coast, along cobblestones and hardened sandstone in the desert. It took them straight towards a distant canyon, with rock walls as tall as the largest buildings Mira had ever seen. She could hear roaring water ahead too, loud enough that it covered up the other desert sounds. "Where did you go, anyway?"
"Back to the waking world, obviously," the kitten answered, annoyed "I told you I would go back and forth. But don't confuse me for a dreamer, I'm not. I am here, I don't just imagine myself to be here. Greater power, but greater danger. This is why we serve, and don't go on our own adventures. Creatures know if they kill you, they can claim us. It's easier that way."
Great. "But killing me doesn't really matter," Mira said. "If I die, I wake up, and..." she trailed off. "And I don't know how to come back. My teacher, Kallisto is here in the Dreaming somewhere. And she would probably want to kill me more than any other creature." She trotted over to Sandy, shaking their shoulder with one hoof. "Can you teach me? If something happens, I could be the one to die, so long as I can come back here when I'm done."
Sandy stared back at her with clear confusion on their face. "You're asking me to teach you something about magic I cannot learn, to travel to a world that doesn't exist to me." They shook their head. "It would be as productive as trying to teach you how to sleep in the Dreaming. Impossible, even for a wise dreamer like Meridian. I must accept my limits."
Mira didn't fight with her—the canyon rose up around them, and any desire to argue faded away.
Not even in her deepest imagination had she dreamed of a place like this. Stone in every shade of crimson and orange and yellow, with strata of thick metal lines that broke the other repeating patterns. The canyon walls weren't blank either, but eroded into irregular peaks and valleys, with buttresses of stone as large as buildings held up by narrow necks. There were huge towers too, and weaving between them all, a river as wide as anything she'd seen in the jungle.
I wonder why nothing grows if there's so much water. Well, almost nothing. There were skeletal trees in patches, along with lichen clinging to steep rock walls. But Mira didn't stop to stare, or else slow down their advance. The walls towered to either side, so vast that Mira wondered how this could possibly be here without somehow being visible from Hope.
Because it's a dream, stupid.
"There are ways to learn," the cat said, interrupting her thoughts. "The passage of worlds. Ask the bats of Bravery, some may tell you. Or they may think those who have to ask don't belong in the Dreaming. But I think they'll tell you. It takes bravery to admit you are stupid."
"I'm not—" She fell silent abruptly, her ears swiveling to a sound of distant rumbling. She turned her head slightly to the side. She wasn't surprised by the tumbling stone. But just because she expected it didn't mean that it didn't terrify her. Stone tore and ground together, whole chunks came tumbling past her, sections of rock as large as her whole body. She took off, jumping up into the air.
The cat mewed in protest, diving into her saddlebags. But Mira hardly paid her any mind—she had to get them both out now. "Where?" she asked, but her voice was drowned out in the landslide. But Sandy was still there, buzzing forward instead of up. That meant dodging around more falling stone, instead of just avoiding it.
Mira ground her teeth together, then tucked in her legs, flying ahead as quickly as she could. As it turned out, that was quite a bit faster than the moth. Those bug wings just weren't built for speed the same way a pony's were. She zipped past, catching the moth by one hoof. "Why aren't we going up?" she yelled, dragging the bug behind her.
"Because that isn't brave!" the moth answered. They didn't actually look at Mira, just kept their eyes laser-focused on the canyon ahead of them.
The whole thing was collapsing now—pillars toppling sideways, sections of rock rolling away from the ground. Cracked brown trees exploded into splinters as rock cascaded over them, tearing up the ground with it.
She dodged narrowly to one side, then rolled, avoiding huge sections of falling rock. The more she focused on her flight, the slower the rest of the world seemed to go. Was Mira somehow... controlling it? She didn't stop to think, focusing her whole body on her flight. This was like avoiding the pegasus guards when they tried to chase her through the jungle. She didn't know what they would do if they caught her, but she had no intention of finding out.
"I don't think..." The moth's voice was already weak, forced out through exhausted breaths. "Can't keep going... gonna..."
Mira slowed just a little, so she could wrap her foreleg around the moth's fluffy neck. She gripped them hard, then tugged forward with all she had. It wasn't much, anymore—flying while carrying someone was taxing even for the strongest pegasi flyers, let alone for bats who weren't really built for heavy lifting. She flew anyway, even if that meant sometimes coming up short, or dodging around bits of crumbling stone instead of outracing them.
It wouldn't matter how they avoided the canyon collapsing on them, so long as they did.
She wasn't sure how much longer they flew—it felt like days, but it was probably less than a minute. Eventually there was no canyon left to collapse, and they emerged onto level ground. More precisely, the path took them up onto a plateau, larger and more stable than any of the old stone that had nearly fallen on their heads.
Mira touched down, breathing heavily. Her hooves clattered on metal, but she didn't notice at first. There were buildings up here, and other creatures. But nothing mattered as much as making sure her companion was okay.
"Sandy," she said, settling the bug onto the ground beside her. "Look at me."
The bug did. They weren’t in good shape—flying so hard had taken its toll. Their wings were frayed, and bluish blood seeped out from the edges. Mira shuddered, knowing full well just how sensitive wings could be, and how much that must hurt.
The bug smiled up at her anyway, blue staining their lips as they did so. "That was... incredibly brave, Mira. You could've left me back there."
"No, I couldn't." She held the bug close, whispering into their ear. Or maybe they heard with the antennae? She was a little shaky on the details. "I wouldn't leave a creature behind. Tell me how to help you."
"Essence," they whispered. "Universal power of all dreamers, connection between our worlds. Or... a hospital. You could find one. I'm sure Chilon has a big one."
The idea of just making everything magically better was obviously more appealing to her. But where was she, anyway?
Mira turned, and finally saw where they'd flown.
The entire city was made of metal, a rusty red stuff in huge flat sheets. They'd been connected together in strange half-melted ways, hardly stable in such a dangerous part of the world. Strange lights glowed from inside them, similar to the smokeless flames in the Erebus buildings.
The creatures here were not moths, but dragons. Or maybe lizards? Mira hadn't ever met a dragon, so she was mostly guessing. Maybe that was why they made everything out of metal, so they wouldn’t burn it accidentally.
There were other creatures here too—some looked like ponies, though there were obvious differences. These ponies were made of gemstone, like glass that got up and walked around. There were a few bats too, though not many.
"Come with me," she finally said, bending down beside the moth. "I'll get you to a doctor. Maybe they can show me how to do the... magical healing."
"Doctors won't know how to do that." The cat appeared from her satchel, hopping up onto her back. Her little claws dug painfully into Mira's back. "They aren't dream-walkers, you are. You just have to want to give her some of the power you brought from the waking world. Somewhere more real than here. Know she's healthy more than you know she's not."
What the buck does that mean?