//------------------------------// // Chapter 17 // Story: Beyond the Veil of Sleep // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Mira followed Cassini back into the guild building, feeling the first gusts of wind lift her wings. By the time they had the doors shut, the force was so great it took both of them pushing together to get the security-bar across. "Not sure why you would... pick a place to live like this," she whispered, sliding slowly down to the floor. It was all built well enough that she felt only a trickle of sand making its way in, whipping through her mane. The last storm had smelled of new life and renewal—this one brought a stink of ozone and anger. "You're one of the sleepless immortals, right? I wouldn't want to risk dying to a windstorm and being gone forever." Her mind still raced, overflowing with strange sights. She had heard the voice of her goddess, if not seen her face. She felt her desperation, and view of her own vital place. Mira would not be a simple observer from here on—her actions would move the world. If she was very lucky, she might save it. The bat sat just beside her, breathing just as heavily from the exertion. She couldn't see Sandy nearby, but she did feel the cat wiggling around in her saddlebags. The poor thing was probably a little squished by now. So she shifted, making sure not to put any of her weight up against her side. "Some bats chose Erebus. There is something about many minds together that makes it easier to remember who you were. "But not me. Those who travel out to other countries, we must choose a place that matches our minds. We will be changed either way—but if the match is good, then very slowly. Most bats plan to live a long time." She nodded, closing her eyes. The wind grew louder, and the first crack of lightning split the growing darkness. She could only hope none of the guild members who abandoned her were caught out in that storm. It was strange enough that Cassini took notice too, moving from the door to a single slit-mirror. He peeked out into the gloom, staring. "Like the sun itself turned her baleful eye against us. But why?" Mira glanced down the hall, scanning for any sign of guild members who might be listening. If there was anyone there, she would probably have kept silent. But they were alone, it was safe. "I spoke with her, Cassini. While I was up there... she saw me." "Princess Celestia?" The bat spun on her, eyes wide. "Why would she be watching the Dreamlands now? We've done nothing to attract her notice!" Mira shook her head sharply. "Not the Tyrant! Princess Luna. She saw me up there, from her prison. I don't know how, Alicorn magic is strange to me. But she did it." Cassini froze, looking almost as frightened of her suddenly as he had been of the storm outside. "Stars guide us. You spoke with the Nightmare? Are you still sane? How many wings am I holding up?" "None!" She stuck out her tongue, annoyed. "Cassini, listen to me. I told her everything I hoped I could. That whole trip to talk to her—it's changing. She wants to help us, but to do that we have to get her off the moon. She needs my help to do it." Cassini nodded once. But he was already recovering, processing the information she wanted to share with him. He sounded almost calm now. "Did the Nightmare command you? Did it whisper how you would do this incredible thing?" He stood just beside her then, so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her face. "Not exactly," she admitted. "I think I'm getting a sense about how, but no list of instructions. She said the Tyrant would see what she was doing, and seal her even tighter. She wouldn't be able to get another message across." Cassini nodded again. "Which means no one else can try to free the Nightmare. If you can't do it, she'll stay trapped on the moon, and Equestria will be safe from her void-corruption." It was Mira's turn to stare. She glared at Cassini. "What are you—" Her anger died on her lips as she felt a sudden, incredible shot of pain. It was far worse than anything she had endured—worse than what the unicorns did when they caught her. Worse than any of the stallions would do if she was alone. Pain crossed her throat in an eyeblink, and the world warped. She felt moisture on her neck, and her body getting heavy. Mira dropped to the floor, gasping for life. It fled her anyway. "If I thought you knew how to get back here, I would have to do worse—destroy your sanity as well." The bat stood over her, glittering dagger against his wing. "But that would be cruel and unfair. You are no traitor, Mira. You've just been taken in by dangers you don't understand. Whatever pain our kind endure across the worlds, the one you would serve is much worse." "H-how—" She wasn't even sure she was talking. Her eyes refused to focus, she could only see his face, watching her die. "—could—" "Return to your life, Mira. Find a way to survive there. Our princess is dead—worse than dead. She was consumed by the void. Nightmare Moon wears her skin like a puppet. Celestia was right to imprison her." He went on like that, or looked like he would. But Mira's body failed her then, the last of her blood spilled to the ground. She died. Then she woke up, and felt like she might die all over again. A dozen different pains assaulted her at once—her muscles ached, her throat was raw, and she smelled like she hadn't dipped in a river in days. Deepest of them all was hunger, her old familiar torment. It was a fight to open her eyes, one she nearly lost. She might have, were it not for her conversation with Princess Luna. She was not just one little mare, one of numberless of her kin who had suffered. She was their only hope for salvation now, chosen by the Princess of the Moon. The weight of Cassini's words, and his betrayal, she could process later. First she had to survive. She finally opened her eyes, and found herself somewhere that was both entirely unknown, and also totally familiar. This was the old monastery, where she spent so many of her days with Kallisto. She was in the Sanctuary, laying atop a silky bed. Candlelight illuminated the room around her, and her eyes were slow to adjust. She saw only vague forms at first, reluctant to solidify into real objects. Around her were flowers, most of them fresh. They had been arranged into a decorative, almost worshipful display all around the bed. She had been resting with her head on a pillow, but the display was obviously not chosen for her comfort. White cloth lay beneath her, except for a wrap around her lower-legs. She saw nopony around her—maybe it was day, and the bats of Understory were asleep. That meant there was no one to ask about what happened. At first it was all Mira could do to lean to one side, nipping on the flowers closest to her head. They were fresh and green, bringing both strength and a little desperately-needed water too. She was rung-out, like a slice of mango left in the sun for days. If she moved too quickly, she might crumble away just as painfully. The more she ate, the clearer her mind became. It was just as Kallisto had always taught—travel in the Dreamlands was not a simple dream, something that could fade with waking. She remembered every moment of it perfectly, as though she had experienced them in waking life. The exploration across several countries, winning Sandy to her side, and finding the cat. Most importantly, her charge from Luna herself, and the betrayal it earned her. That was the only source of confusion that remained to her. She knew things that had no source—facts about the Dreamlands that she couldn't remember learning. Shapes danced against her vision when she closed her eyes, like the spells that unicorns drew on their enchantments. Only these did not seem to be waiting for a horn, but for the right emotion. There was power in just holding a specific feeling when she slept. There were other sources of power too if she needed them. Blood. Other things she knew were just fragments, divorced of any context or usefulness. Something called the seven hundred and seventy steps of deeper slumber, a village on an ancient cliffside, conversations had with an old man who lived in a shack of woven reeds at the end of creation. I have to save her, she thought. But first, I need to save myself. The shower would come first—whoever had cared for her all this time, they had barely managed to keep her clean and alive. Maybe that was why they used so many flowers, so worshipful visitors would not be revolted and leave. Finally Mira dared to roll out of bed. Her legs caught her, then buckled instantly, bringing her to the ground with a painful thump. But nothing broke—it was just the weakness of ill-use. She wobbled, then stood. First she shook the wrap off her legs, then stumbled forward through the room. The benches had moved—instead of circling the viewing dome, now they surrounded her bed. A painted plaque was attached to her bed, covered with bright purple and elegant script. "Monk Mira—she who dreams of our future." At least her vision was coming back to her. She hadn't rotted away completely while she lay on that bed. Her legs burned with every step, muscles screaming. But it was getting better. She just had to remind her body how to use it. "Kallisto didn't say it would be like this," Mira whispered. Her voice was weak and ragged, just like her body. "She went to the Dreamlands all the time, it didn't almost kill her." She wasn't talking to anypony—she just wanted to talk. Mira didn't really expect an answer. She got one anyway, a tiny voice from the nearest pew. Granted, calling it an answer was a little generous—it conveyed no words. It was a high-pitched mewling sound, one she recognized instantly upon hearing. Mira spun, grinning widely at the little animal. She looked exactly how Mira remembered, right down to the splotches of brown and yellow against white. "You're here! In the real world!" Again came the response, and again she couldn't extract any words. Even so, she felt some familiar answer there. Indignance, frustration. The kitten was judging her. "I didn't mean to... get killed," she said. She stopped directly across from the kitten, as close as it would let her get. The cat lifted one paw to her nose, and Mira knew instantly what she meant. "Right. We can talk in a bit. I thought that trip would be over in one night—it feels like a lot longer than that." At least the monastery was familiar to her. She reached the stairs, then descended towards the lower floor like she had done so many times before. She walked straight for the well, and the large bathing-basin she had used so many times before. Kallisto had washed her in it since she was too weak to fly. It was only fitting she would find her way there again. The door into the room was open as she approached, with more candlelight burning inside. A pony turned, someone about her size and wearing dark blue monk's robes. They saw her—then they screamed, dropping the oversized pot they had just filled with water. It shattered, spilling all over her hooves. "Yeah," Mira agreed as soon as they stopped yelling. "Guess you weren't expecting me to be up, huh?"