//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 // Story: Beyond the Veil of Sleep // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Mira found her old quarters exactly the way she expected, almost. She had never had much in the way of physical possessions—no elaborate outfits woven by unicorn craftsponies from far Canterlot or some other distant place. She owned no gold jewelry, only a handful of near-worthless gemstone pieces that the royal guard hadn't bothered to confiscate from her dead parents. At least the new sister of the monastery hadn't looted her room for every last candle and scrap of parchment. "Something about all this doesn't... make sense, cat," Mira said, after the mare had departed. She left a basket heavy with fruit, along with everything else she had asked for. Two whole fresh rolls of parchment, a bottle of ink. If she had thought to withhold the riches of the monastery from Mira before, she had clearly thought better of it. The basket contained a note from the little pony, reminding Mira to go straight to her if there was anything missing. "Of course there is something wrong. A predator has found her way in among the kittens. She has claimed your nest for herself." Mira jumped, staring across the room. “You can talk here too?” “To you.” The kitten stalked past her. “If I have something to say.” Mira lit several candles, spreading them all around her bedroom. She normally didn't bother with so much light, but just now she needed every bit of workspace she could get. "I don't know how I feel about it," Mira admitted. "She's perverted the moon's true way. But she's getting ponies all over to worship again, and donate so much. I've never seen the storehouse so full in my whole life. Ponies don't usually have that much to give." "So much has changed." The cat followed her along the room, hopping from bits of furniture to keep her paws away from the dirty floor. Meanwhile, Mira didn't start with anything magic, she just took a broom and got to brushing. She wouldn't be able to make use of the space to practice magic she barely understood while in a filthy room. As she erased the chaos outside, the confusion in her own mind seemed to fade as well. She had simple goals, and she'd been given knowledge directly from the princess of the moon herself. The longer she had to think, the more her brain could put all those new facts into place. One question remained occluded to her—how could she break the spell that imprisoned Luna on the moon? Traveling to the moon within the Dreamlands was possible, and might be part of that plan. But merely going there would only confine her and any who joined her to the princess's prison. Mira cleaned, then she ate, then she cleaned again. What she really wanted was a chance to fly around Understory and stretch her wings. But Night had been insistent about the need for the illusion to continue. Her own sleeping self was part of why such wealth remained in the monastery. Should ponies even be donating at all? They think I'm a relic of the divine that can bless them and solve their problems. I want to help, but it's Luna who will set us free. Once I free her. The more she moved, the more alive she felt. By the time she'd emptied all the fruit in her basket, she was almost herself again. Still thin and sunken, but at least she didn't feel starving anymore. "Now I wonder what you'll do, Mira," said the cat. "Do you give up your goal? Now that the princess told you no." Mira finished arranging the paper on her desk, and looked up from beside it. "That isn't what she told me. Luna said she needed somepony to rescue her." "Exactly!" the cat mewed dramatically, hopping down to the floor. She made her way over, rubbing against Mira's legs as she passed. "She told you she can't rescue your tribe. Your mission is doomed. Where does that leave your powerful will?" She rolled her eyes, scooping the kitten up onto her desk. "If I went to sleep again, would you be able to check on my body every now and then? I don't want to die while I'm in the Dreamlands." The cat didn't actually seem to mind being moved. She paced slowly past the little bottle of ink, then seemed to consider how to kick it over. Before she could, Mira scooped it up with a hoof, holding it out of reach. "This is one purpose of a familiar. I can watch where your eyes are closed. The old and fat might sit on this side, ready to wake you at every moment, but not to join you for the adventure. I am not old and not fat, so I would not be so obedient. I joined you to see your adventure." "But you would check on me every now and then," she said. "Like, you could make sure I don't stay there for weeks. You could wake me." "I could," she said. "But most dreamers don't need that. There are conditions in the magic you invoke when you descend the steps of greater slumber. Most leave their bodies bound by silver cord, ready to be drawn back if they are woken. You did not know how to make such a cord. You don't even know your own dream space, or how it bounds against the Dreaming. You may be big, but you're the smaller kitten of us two." Should Mira have felt flattered that the cat was treating her like one of her own kind, or insulted that she was being called a kitten? She decided on both. The cat was right of course—she had all that knowledge buried inside. Every fundamental and advanced theory, it was all there. Even if she couldn't access any of it, she felt a general sense of agreement with what it said. "My dream space... that's the place where everyone goes when they sleep. The space of their individual dreams. But that doesn't seem useful, right? I can't interact with anyone I don't bring with me." The cat settled down on her haunches on the edge of the desk, licking delicately at one of her paws. "That's not quite true. You make sympathetic connections when you travel the Dreaming. Those creatures you meet there can find you again, if you dream the right feelings." Sandy. Her first thought, of the friend who believed in her mission, even if they also seemed convinced that to join her meant certain death. It was an incredible amount of trust for someone to have in her, trust she should not squander. I need to bring them back, not leave them in Bravery to get killed by the same bat who killed me. Her waking attitude expecting every bat to be fighting the same enemies and ultimately on the same side would not serve her in the Dreaming. Cassini had sided with Celestia over his own princess. How many more would do exactly the same thing? Mira started sketching. She wasn't sure what she was drawing—the ideas just came to her. As she drew, her hoof writing came out perfectly, every circle and diagram drawn with exquisite accuracy. She wasn’t even sure what she drew exactly, just that she didn't want to stop once she got going. When she filled one roll of parchment, she tossed it to the ground and got to work on the next one, scribbling with similar energy. "I'm not changing my goals, cat. I'm going to save my princess, no matter how hard it is." The cat laughed—or something like a laugh, anyway. It was halfway to a purr. "A mission of incredible difficulty, spanning from sleeping to waking worlds and back again. Assuming it's even possible. Aren't Alicorns gods?" "Not... quite," she said lamely. It wasn't the response she would've given months ago. Her own teacher would probably scold her for questioning. Even the Sun Tyrant was a god, only a baleful, spiteful being of endless bonfires and no compassion. "I don't think Luna thought she was. There's just a lot of power, way more than I... have. But think about it this way: it takes a lot of power to build a dam. But I need a lot less to find a crack and pry it open, and bring the whole thing down." "So you've become a scholar?" the cat asked, her tone openly mocking now. "You'll sit in your laboratory, until you reverse-engineer the prison of your princess? Then you cast a terrible spell and set her free?" If only it were so simple. Pretending to be asleep might earn her enough money to keep the monastery going while she worked, even if that work took years. But whatever magic she had ahead of her would be like collapsing the dam—it would mean probing at its weaknesses, finding the edges, pressing and pulling on every thread until she found the crack in the foundation. "No. I need to... master dreamwalking first. I don't want to use potions, I should do it the way monks do. Controlling our own sleep, that way we can wake up when night comes. Sister Night wants me to sleep when her ritual comes, so I will sleep. Perhaps you could watch the ceremony, in case she takes steps to see me trapped there, without a body to return to?" The cat hopped onto one of her diagrams, standing at the center of a little circle of interlocking runes. Mira wasn't even quite sure what that diagram meant, only that it wasn't a spell for a unicorn. This was the magic of the sleeping world, connecting the domain of the unconscious to the physical. She could do more than simply dream herself into that world, Mira was sure about that. She could travel it with her body as well, if she mastered her powers. She would have to, if she hoped to save the princess. "For a night, I will watch. If you're looking for a cat to lay about in both worlds, watching and doing nothing, I will not. But this once, yes." "You're wonderful," she said, patting her with one hoof. "I'll find a way to get you some milk after this. Maybe I'll ask Night to ask for small donations of milk for the monastery. Would you like that?" The cat fixed her with a glare from its eyes, but didn't say a word. As though the answer should be so obvious that words were not even required. Mira worked through until Night approached the door, knocking lightly on it with a hoof before opening it. "Mira? I have something for you." She stepped inside, holding up a little glass vial of something green. "I purchased this sleeping draught from the herbalist. I believe it should produce convincing results this evening." Walking in without permission like you're the Reverend Mother, Mira thought, annoyed. She rose from her desk, gathering up her rolls of vellum. "I will not drink a potion." She sniffed, and her nose wrinkled. "That's valerian root—that produces a dreamless sleep. What use would that be?" "To solicit the gifts of important bats at a critical time in the year," Night answered, thrusting it towards her. "Go on. You can work in the Dreamlands tomorrow." She took the bottle, then settled it onto her desk. "I'll enter the Dreamlands my own way, thanks. You should know all about that by now, right? How far into our practice did you get? Can you... tell me a little about the personal dream space?" Night retreated back the way she'd come through the open door. "I can tell you that the guests will be arriving in half an hour. I can tell you if they find you awake, I'll be declared a fraud, and no more creatures will believe you can grant their miracles. Don't you want to give them hope?" "I want to give them more than that." Mira took one of her diagrams under her wing, then turned for the steps. "Come on. You can help me cast this."