//------------------------------// // Chapter 16 // Story: Beyond the Veil of Sleep // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Mira lay on the clouds, more lost than she had ever been in the waking world. After a lifetime of suffering, she had finally discovered a way out—but she would not take it for herself. All the bats of Equestria needed help, it was not good enough to just save herself. She would not go. Despite a tantalizing promise of salvation for herself and her tribe, she had discovered cowardice in the sleeping world. With few exceptions, its denizens were unwilling to go with her. They would not risk themselves on her quest. Why should they care about the survival of bats? Maybe I should let myself wake up. All I have to do is die here, and I'll go back to the place I came from. I can go back to begging for scraps on the side of the road. She wouldn't be taking them back to Kallisto at the monastery anymore, though. She could have the mushrooms all for herself. She could grow old looking at the murals, depicting their exodus from a dying world, or their salvation under the wings of the Nightmare. Those dark eyes would follow her until she died, judging her for her failure. "Mira." A voice spoke, so quiet she could barely hear it. It was unfamiliar to her—feminine, but also stern. Where was it coming from? "I have been watching you," it said. "These nights of your journey. From Erebus and beyond. I have heard your voice, and seen your courage." She opened her eyes, scanning the clouds. Mira's eyes strained, but she could see no other figures. Not even the trailing wisps that might mean someone had just passed through the cloudy floor. "Where are you?" she asked, sitting up. "Trapped," whispered the voice. "Bound inexorably. The greatest torture I endured was not betrayal, but being forced to watch what become of my children, powerless to help." Finally, she thought to search in the one place she hadn't yet looked: up. Mira saw the moon. She was too young to remember it any other way. There was a mare's shape there, outlined against the shadow. It was distinct enough for her to see clearly, despite the vast distance. She even imagined it turning to watch her. An impossibility in the real world. Unicorn astronomers insisted the "Mare in the Moon" was just a formation of rocks and craters, taking the shape of a pony by accident of nature. That was what they all taught, expecting bats to believe it. As though they didn't have the records from before. As though their own astronomers hadn't been studying the sky long before Celestia or her sister had ascended to the throne. As though they were all fools. "You can talk to me?" she asked, disbelief in her voice. "How?" The reply did not come quickly. When the voice finally came again, every word was distant and far apart. Was she shouting all the way from the moon? "Sympathy is proximity, bat. Your loyalty binds you with threads that grow stronger as you suffer. I once had numberless servants, and I would not have seen. But now they are dead. When I search for living ponies, I find only your face." Her heart leapt—this was Mira's entire mission in the Dreamlands! It was the reason she came! Maybe she wouldn't have to reach the moon at all! "You have to help us!" she called, as loudly and bravely as she could. "Nightmare Moon, your subjects are captives! We're driven from city to city, forced to live in the shadows, struggling for food. Whenever we unite, the army hunts and kills us! Your tribe can't survive this forever!" Silence answered. Yet Mira could tell the distant voice had not left her. Somehow, its presence remained close. It was a pressure on her mind, like an unseen pony standing just over her shoulder. If she turned to look she would not see them standing there, but the feeling of being watched would remain. "I would save you if I could," came the eventual reply. "My love for the ponies of night grows stronger the more I see you suffer. But I am bound, pony. My sister sealed me here, and no strength of mine will be sufficient to set me free. It is a trap upon my hooves, one that tightens the stronger I resist it." Despair crushed down on Mira, far mightier than she could have possibly felt on the ground. The refusal of Nightmare's subjects to obey was one thing—ponies were always fallible creatures. Those who lived in dream had grown detached by their long lives, and longer wanderings away from physical space. "So it's... hopeless?" Mira asked. "There's nothing we can do? The Sun Tyrant won at last, and we're all doomed?" Maybe the moon princess could sense her terrible pain, or maybe just see it. Either way, the reply came much more quickly this time. "No! No victory is certain, loyal servant. Lift up thy head, and listen." She sniffed, wiping away her tears with a wing. The future seemed incredibly bleak to her, salvation impossible. But if the princess of the moon told her otherwise, how could she possibly argue? "I'm listening," she said. "I was going to come to you... sail across the Dreamlands, and tell you about what was happening to your bats. But if you already know, and you're trapped, what do we do instead?" "Your plan was a noble one, given what you knew," the Nightmare said. When she spoke this time, Mira could swear she saw an eye turn towards her on the moon's surface. She had the total attention of a god. "I am pleased with you, pony. You give me reason to hope for victory." "Mira," she muttered. It was wrong to argue or correct a goddess—but there was no reason she couldn't share her name. "My name is... Mira. My parents were in your court. They fought beside you, and... d-died." The wind whipped about her. The clouds she was resting on began to thicken, darkening. Not only that, but they were moving rapidly, drifting along the sky above Chilon. She spread her wings, ready to catch herself if she fell. She didn't, not yet. "I know the pain of my children, Mira. I cannot leave the moon—I am trapped here, confined. Yet you could aid in my escape. With your help, I could return to Equestria, and stand beside the children of the night." "Just tell me how!" She stood, shouting to the sky. "Tell me what to do, Princess! Anything you say, I'll do it! I don't know very much about the sleeping world, or the waking one. I'm not the strongest or the fastest. But if I can do it, I will." "This is your greatest weakness, perhaps your only one," the Nightmare said. "I feel your conviction, and it gives you strength. Your bravery makes you mighty in the Dreaming. But power must be tempered with knowledge, or it is a wildfire, raging out of control and turning forests to ash. I will share my dream with you, Mira... give you some of what little strength remains to me." The clouds beneath her faded to mist, and what was left of them drifted to join a growing storm cloud less than a kilometer away. As it grew, the winds began to rise. Rain whipped through the air, and thunder rolled. The already faint voice started to fade. She seemed to realize it too, because the voice got faster, more desperate. "I have found an... opening. The way we speak, might be widened enough to send some of what I know. Yet if I do, she will see. The sun will turn towards us, and close what was opened. I cannot stand against the Elements of Harmony alone. You must needs use this knowledge. Find a way to free me. Or deny me, and I will find another. Choose!" It was everything Mira had hoped for, and everything she had feared. The princess would help her, directly! But she would also give Mira a responsibility, one she had no idea how to fulfill. Her teacher would give her simple instructions: she must refuse, of course. She should leave this role to someone else. She had already done so much, risen far above what anyone could expect of one filly. She couldn't save a whole tribe. Nopony ever said it would be easy. "I'll do it!" she yelled. Her wings fought against the growing storm. With her will, the raging clouds did not reach her. The gale that lifted dirt and chunks of rock from the canyon below faded before it could get close. "Whatever it takes! I'll go to the end of the Dreaming and back! I'll raise an army, I'll find a way!" She did not hear a reply, the storm was too intense by then. But she didn't need to hear the words to know her promise was accepted. The moon turned on her, and a single spot flared to life on its surface. She could not see it clearly through the clouds, yet she imagined. She imagined a powerful, towering mare, standing on a surface of windswept white. Power built before her, then exploded outward in a line a single atom wide. It struck her in the air, with a force that should've killed. It would have, in the waking world. But Mira slept here, and had no proper body. Flying became impossible for her, and she was overwhelmed. Images flashed before her, sights she could not classify. She saw impossible vistas, dreams of long-dead civilizations. She heard the voices of ancient dead. She saw a young princess, following in the footsteps of something that wasn't a bat. She saw dreams of pleasure, nightmares of endless madness. She saw the place where the Dreaming grew thin, fraying into the Astral Sea. She saw numberless cities and the dreams of thousands of sleeping ponies. It was too much for any one mind to absorb. She stiffened, recoiling from the sights and sounds. Yet there was no relief. The heat only grew, burning away at her. Maybe it would burn her away completely. Then the sun came out. It flared to life despite the hour, appearing as though it was suddenly midday. The light of noon struck against her with as much force as the Nightmare's magic, knocking her tumbling. It wasn't even aimed at her, though. The strange magic pressing against her mind ended with one final, guttural scream of pain. Her senses returned to her a moment later. Mira was falling, tumbling through the clouds. Her coat was soaked through in an eyeblink, her wings feeling ragged. She spread them anyway, catching herself as the ground came rushing up to meet her. Even so, she barely kept from tumbling over. The floor was so close! She came to a stop inches from the ground, spreading the dirt from her point of impact in a little crater. She was on the dock plateau, beside the explorers' guild building. As she landed, a figure appeared from within, rushing out through the rain towards her. Cassini. Alone, without Sandy following. Probably for the best, their thin silk wings would be unequal to these gale winds. "Did you see that?" he yelled, shouting over the storm. "There's never storms during the day!" She nodded weakly. She could barely think straight—when she opened her eyes, she found images of the past blurring together with the present. Spiraling buildings of glass, figures riding in carts through Erebus, sitting on a throne made of polished steel. "This way," he said, gesturing for the building. "Whatever the reason, it's storming now. We need shelter!" She had no choice but to obey, stumbling after him into the building. She was outside just long enough to watch as the moon faded completely, vanishing before the might of the sun.