//------------------------------//
// Chapter 23: Dolls 
// Story: Partial 
// by Halira 
//------------------------------//

Rebecca sat looking at the young chocolate-colored earth pony colt, who was deep in meditation. The cream-colored earth pony, Ulga, sat looking at nothing because she couldn't look at anything because she was blind. Patches sat staring in fascination at Russell. Russell stood in a corner, trying not to stare at Patches or the dead man lying on the floor. 

"Moses needs his sleep," Ulga insisted again, staring dead ahead with her milky-white eyes. "It isn't a school night, but he still should not stay up so late."

"Well, if Sha'am wasn't so difficult, we'd already be done," Rebecca replied, trying not to show how frustrated she was. Seriously, Sha'am Maut was the most infuriatingly stubborn dead person ever. 

"Ayedunno doesn't like being woken. They may not come out. Let Moses go to bed," Ulga continued to insist. 

Russell gave Patches a nervous glance and quickly turned away from the eldritch horror. "I don't mean to be rude, but does she have to stare like that?"

Rebecca looked at the pair. "She thinks you're interesting. She doesn't get to see that many new living people. It's not like she wants to eat you. Her digestive tract doesn't work."

"We throw up when we try to eat. It's funny," Patches giggled. 

Ulga's ears flattened briefly. "Please, do not give her ideas. She is a happy child, but she is extremely open to suggestions and has almost no concept of right and wrong."

Russell shifted his feet nervously. "What does she understand is wrong?"

Ulga tilted her head, still staring straight ahead at a wall. "She understands making people unhappy is wrong. She, like all the others, is also very protective of Moses. They all exist to protect Moses."

Patches suddenly snarled, making Russell jump. "They are going to hurt us??"

"No, child, they are not going to hurt Moses," Ulga assured her. 

Patches immediately stopped snarling and giggled. "Okay. Can we play now?"

Rebecca smiled at the terror. "Russell might play with you later. How about you draw us a picture on some paper? You draw such interesting pictures."

Patches hopped in a circle. "Draw! Draw! Draw! We will draw!" She then ran past the dead man like he was of no concern and started pulling crayons down from a low table. After that, she looked around and gave another happy jump as she found a sheet of paper. Patches picked the paper up proudly in her exposed teeth, carried it to the floor next to the crayons, then plopped down on the ground and started drawing. 

"See, babe, Patches is very easy to please. She just wants to be happy and have everyone happy with her," Rebecca told her husband. "Just try not to seem angry or scared with her. That is you being unhappy with her, and that makes her confused and upset. She is a very simple creature and won't understand why you aren't happy, no matter how hard you try to explain. Her emotional range is very limited, and her ability to think abstractly is even more limited. Just be pleasant with her, give her simple tasks, and play simple games. Do those things, and everything will be fine."

Both Moses and the dead body suddenly stirred. Russell jumped and backed away from the body as it rolled over to get into a position to push itself up. Ulga was not concerned with the waking dead and instead turned one ear back. 

"Alright, you have done as the Dreamwarden requested. Now it's time for bed," Ulga instructed. 

"But, Muma-" Moses whined. 

Ulga shook her head. "No, but, Muma, me. It is far too late an hour. You should have long ago been asleep. Colts need their sleep. If this were the old country, you would have been in bed just after sundown. If you don't get proper sleep, you won't grow big and strong."

The dead body sat up. "We should listen to her, child. She cares for us and wants what's best. We will be bored with the grown-up conversation anyway."

Patches looked up from her drawing. "No, we won't! Grown-ups talk funny."

The recent cadaver gave Patches a look. "We think the drawing should continue downstairs so as not to distract the grown-ups and make them unhappy. Draw us the bird on the table downstairs so the grown-ups may be happy."

"Birdie!" Patches exclaimed, then gathered up her drawing and one of the crayons in her mouth before trotting out of the room. Rebecca noticed that the picture was just a bunch of random lines and scribbles on the paper, but that was what Patches typically drew when not instructed to draw something in particular. 

Moses was still pouting. "Can I get some milk and cookies first, please, Muma?"

Ulga considered for a moment. "You may, but only one glass and one cookie, and then straight to bed, and don't stop to play with Patches or any of your others."

Moses stood up and nodded. "Okay. One cookie and milk, and I won't stop to play with us." He then hurried past them in the direction Patches had a few seconds prior. 

The risen cadaver looked at Ulga. "We are going to disobey and play. Do not be too harsh on us for our transgression. It is difficult for children to sit still for so long, and you have had the current incarnation sit very long, trying to stir us. Kids shall be kids."

Ulga sighed. "I shall be kind but firm, but he needs to learn to listen to me. If you will excuse me, I must check on him." She turned and walked out of the room, not needing to see where she was going because she knew the house well. 

Rebecca waited for the sound of Ulga's hooves going down the stairs before she addressed Sha'am. "Sorry, we couldn't find you a night pony mare. I don't know why the easiest bodies to find are human men."

Sha'am shrugged. "We have lived as untold numbers of creatures, male, female, and neither. While we're sympathetic to the distress Arbiter, Phobia, and others like them experienced in their youths and believe it could be debilitating based on similar experiences in a tiny minority of our lives, we are now beyond such concerns for ourselves. We have experienced far greater miseries, and our sense of self is far more involved after all the lives we have experienced. We are not merely Sha'am Maut; we are the reflection of the lives of an unfathomable number of the dead stretching back to the infancy of our universe. You cannot comprehend us. Now, did you do as we asked?"

Might as well get to it. "We have our agents doing what you wish, but Jessie should already have the general location of Jeg'galla'gamp'pi. Can we please have the map?"

Sha'am sighed and stood up. "Very well, but do not wake us again anytime soon. We wish to sleep. We do not want our mind troubled by the affairs of Dreamwardens and the foolish choices you who followed after us are making. We have served our time. We deserve our slumber. That colt is our last incarnation, our final lifetime. When this incarnation passes, we will finally be truly dead at last. We have lived too many lives. We long for the grave. May the colt live a happy life; it shall be but one drop in the sea of what we have been. Let the last drop be a good one, free from worry."

"Foolish choices?" Russell asked in confusion. 

"Sha'am disagrees with how we do things in general, and she hates Jeg'galla'gamp'pi," Rebecca explained as Sha'am's current body walked over to grab some paper and one of the crayons. "She's also the only one who can remember the geography of it and can draw a map telling us the ideal place to land."

"That place has only ever brought us misery," Sha'am stated as they grabbed a sheet of paper and bent down to grab a crayon. "It should be left forgotten. Nothing there can aid the world against the Devourers. If it could save anyone from them, it would have done so back then. You waste your time, and more importantly, you waste the time of those you seek to protect by obsessing over it. We only give you this so you can learn how foolish it was to trust in the first and last place for anything."

Rebecca frowned at the once-dreaded Warden of Death. "Do you and all your unfathomless knowledge know for sure there is nothing worthwhile there? If you've got some extra knowledge about Jeg'galla'gamp'pi, other than safe landing areas, feel free to share."

Sha'am grimaced. "It is beyond our knowledge, so we cannot say for sure, but all previous interactions indicate we are right."

"We are going to leave no stone unturned as we search for ways of overcoming the Devourers once and for all," Rebecca replied. "I don't want to be disrespectful, but your plan to defeat them went terribly. You shouldn't be so critical of ours."

"Our plan was a good plan," Sha'am countered as they began drawing. "It just didn't have the time it needed, and unforeseen circumstances derailed our work. It could still work if there were time. It could end the Devourer threat forever. What does your plan give that our plan did not?"

"Not potentially destroying our world with our own weapon?" Rebecca suggested. "It may just be me, but I kinda like not having made something that could end all life."

"A worthwhile risk if it meant taking out the Devourers forever. Life would rise again, as it always does, only then free from their doom," Sha'am said calmly. "But these things are beyond our concerns now. Do as you see fit. We have but one request. The current incarnation, Moses, must never be Dreamwarden. We know Phobia desires it, but it risks taking away our final demise. Tell her to abandon her plans to make our current incarnation a candidate. If she goes through with it, we shall slit our throat ourselves to save us. We do not wish to do so, but if the risk of returning to the eternal dream is there, then it is the kindest thing we can do. We have come to hate Joss less and sympathize with him more as time passes."

Russell bent down and whispered in Rebecca's ears. "You have some unpleasant friends."

Rebecca couldn't help but agree, although calling Sha'am Maut a friend would be a huge stretch. She looked at the once Dreamwarden and nodded. "I'll let Phobia know what you said. However, you could just talk to Moses and tell him how you feel. No one can become Dreamwarden without accepting the position. If he says no, that saves the whole throat-slitting thing. Nobody wants throat-slitting. I don't think the other yous would let you get away with that anyway, so it would be this huge hassle and load of work that is best to avoid. It would also kinda negate all the effort you went through to get him and Ulga safely out of that war zone. Getting shot up so you looked like Swiss cheese should count for something, right? Even if it was just another body to you."

Sha'am nodded. "You are quite right, and we do wish my current incarnation a long, fulfilling life. We still mean it about not allowing us to be Dreamwarden again, no matter what steps must be taken."

"After all this, you need to explain what the hell this is all about because I'm so confused and more than a little horrified," Russell whispered to her. 

"Sha'am is Moses; they all are Moses," Rebecca whispered back. "Sha'am wants to be not just dead but dead-dead for good. If Moses becomes a Dreamwarden, there's a tiny chance, just like me, that he could end up like Arbiter, Ghadab, or Yinyu–a permanent undead fixture in the dream realm. That would mean Sha'am can't be dead-dead, and the only way out is the eternal dream. She's done that once; she doesn't want to do it again. Her getting out of the eternal dream is how we ended up with a necromancer kid and all these zombies. All the zombies are reflections of the lives Sha'am lived in the eternal dream. They aren't the actual souls of those dead people; they are like copies of them from what Sha'am relived, like living through a recording of every second of someone else's life and experiencing every sensation and emotion they felt. Sha'am is the only real soul out of the bunch, the only one who isn't some sentient copy, and she shares her soul with Moses."

"So the little corpse filly doesn't have a real soul; she's like someone downloaded a perfect copy of someone else's soul and stuck it in there?" Russell asked. 

"Well, it is Moses-slash-Sha'am's soul in the zombies, but all the memories and personalities are copies that came from someplace else. They think of themselves as Moses and those people that he's copying the memories of, but they're just Moses–well, Moses and Sha'am, but same thing,'' Rebecca explained. "Does that make sense?"

They watched Sha'am continue to draw the map. "And why is she so interested in this mission that you sent Blanche and Josie on?"

Rebecca shrugged. "She experienced a lot of lives before Moses was born. Most of those lives happened a long-long time ago, often in a galaxy far away, but one of those lives was a partial that lived very recently and experienced some nasty things happening to them. Even if it wasn't really her, she experienced all that stuff, and she wants justice for that life and the others still suffering."

Sha'am finished the map and disinterestedly tossed it over to Rebecca. Sha'am then abruptly collapsed to the floor and stayed unmoving.

Rebecca snorted. "Not even a goodbye. She just abandoned the body. The least she could have done was walk it back to the freezer. That was so rude, and she always made a fuss about everyone treating her with proper manners when she was alive! Yet, now, she has no desire for much at all, just her end. We are very different in our natures, but at least we once shared the same end goals. Now, we share nothing. She is the walking dead in more ways than one. She makes me so peeved!"

Russell brushed his fingers through her mane. "You inherited things from her when you became a Dreamwarden. It's like she's in your DNA, your family. You're not angry at her. Your family member is fading away, and you don't know how to stop it, and that makes you angry. All your power as a Dreamwarden, and you're helpless to help her."

She leaned her head into him. "How do you get into my head so well? I'm the one who gets in others' heads as they sleep."

"I'm your husband. I may never know everything about you, but I know enough. I don't need no fancy magic for that," he answered, giving her a snuggle.

She looked at her husband and batted her eyes at him. "Russell, honey, can you help the zombies get this body into storage? Pretty please?"

He kissed her before standing up. "Let me help move this body. I promise to show it more respect than its last inhabitant did."

She watched him leave to go round up some help. There was dancing to do. Russell would understand. 

Something caught her attention, and her gaze flicked over to an ancient yet familiar-looking sackcloth doll with black button eyes sitting on the far side of the room, past the crumpled body. It seemed to be staring at her, eyes incapable of blinking. Somehow, she knew it knew everything her sweet Russell did not—all the things she would never let her husband know. 

"So, you still judge others. There is some life left in you," she said to the doll, smiling with satisfaction. 

The doll, being a doll, said nothing. It was incapable of doing so. Its mouth was mere yarn, ragged with age. She glanced away to the door for an instant to check that no one was there, and when she glanced back, the doll was gone. 





It wasn't perfect, but it would do; at least, she hoped it would. 

Jessica stared at her computer screen, trying to find anything that had been missed. There had to be things that were missed with how quickly this had been thrown together. She rechecked the calculations on universal expansion. She double-checked neighboring galaxies to make sure their gravity had correctly been accounted for when making the trajectory for the galaxy's rotation. She did the same for the nearby star systems close to the original star system to determine any that might have been missed that might have hooked the target when it went rogue. She triple-checked the mass that should remain after the star exhausted itself and collapsed into a white dwarf. 

There'd been a few minor errors in her students' mathematical equations, nothing she couldn't quickly fix and adjust the projection with. The core of what they had done was right; it was a few missed numbers. Adam's information seemed spotless. There was nothing she could find wrong with her own, and Adam had also checked her work because she was not so vain as to believe she was incapable of making a mistake, especially with the rush she had done this.

This was the best that could be done in a mere day. 

She picked up her phone and autodialed.

"Hello, Wallace speaking. You have reached the residence of the Warden of Fear, Phobia Remedy. Prank callers will face the consequences. Who is calling, and how may I help you?"

She blinked. "Wallace? Who the heck are you?"

"I'm the personal bodyguard of Phobia Remedy," Wallace said proudly.

"Tempest and Crystal are the bodyguards," Jessica said flatly. "I've never heard of you."

He loudly snorted in annoyance. "They aren't currently here, and both are considering retiring soon. Tempest personally trained me to take up the duty of guarding the Dreamwarden when they retire. Now, who the heck are you?"

She didn't care for this overly proud bodyguard. "I'm Doctor Jessica Middleton. Phobia should be expecting a call from me. Tell her I'm calling."

"You're Doctor Middleton?" Wallace asked skeptically. "I expected someone who sounded smarter."

She narrowed her eyes. "Sounded smarter? How does someone sound smart?"

"I dunno. I guess, uses a lot of big words I don't know."

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "That isn't sounding smart; that is sounding like a puffed-up arrogant asshole who wants to seem smarter than those around them because their ego demands it. Please, tell Phobia I'm on the phone."

"I need some proof," Wallace said defiantly. 

She didn't have time for this prick. She focused her powers through the phone, letting the electronics enhance them. 

"PHOBIA! I'M ON THE PHONE, AND YOUR ROOKIE BODYGUARD IS ANNOYING ME!" she shouted to Phobia's household. 

"Uhhh…." Wallace said dumbly. 

"Wallace, let me take that call," Rosetta said. 

There was the sound of some shifting around.

"¡LA MADRE QUE TE PARIÓ!" 

Jessica flinched in pain and flattened her ears at the scream and the string of Spanish explicatives that followed. 

She waited for her first opportunity to cut in and took it when Rosetta finally needed to breathe. "Sorry, Rosetta!"

Rosetta stopped her cursing rant. "Sorry? You frightened my wife with your outburst! She was doing one of her short naps, and you woke her up. I should take a plane over there, find you while you sleep, and scream in a bullhorn beside your ear! ILTAM ZOMGHA LACHOPTI ILATEN-" Rosetta continued to yell. Jessica had no idea what language it was or what was being said, but the tone and volume indicated it was still a string of insults. 

The angry night pony suddenly went silent, and there was more shuffling around. 

"Jessie, please don't yell over the phone like that again," Phobia said. "Wallace, please go brew Rosetta some soothing tea."

"What language was she yelling at me in?" Jessica asked. 

"I haven't a clue–something ancient and very dead," Phobia answered.

"YOU SOLD ME BAD COPPER!" Rosetta yelled in English, adding to the general confusion. 

Phobia sighed. "I don't even know, so don't ask. It is likely some long-lost insult she read somewhere. Let's move on. Do you have the information we require?"

"I'm confident I know the general region," Jessica answered. "I'll have all the information saved on a flash drive momentarily. What is the next step?"

"Gather your laptop, the flash drive, a few changes in clothes, a blanket and pillow, perhaps that bunny or teddy bear you used to sleep with and go to Wabash Manor. Call me again once you arrive."

"Why do I need Bunna or Mister Do?" Jessica asked in confusion. 

"When faced with the unfathomable, it can be nice to have something familiar to hold on to, a totem, as it were. Stuffed animals we sleep with from childhood into adulthood are very potent totems–not in any magical sense, but in an emotional sense. People underestimate how powerful a soothing object from our youth can be. Foals don't defeat my nightmares with magic; they often banish them with teddy bears, action figures, and dollies. I'm the monster under the bed and in the closet; take it from me that toys are powerful."

Jessica shook her head in disbelief. "I'm not a child trying to banish monsters in the closet."

"You are going to Jeg'galla'gamp'pi; the shadows in every window and street will be watching you. Take your totems," Phobia instructed. "Be quick. I shall await your call."

"Jeg-what?" Jessica asked, but the line disconnected. 

Windows and streets sounded like they would be going somewhere civilized, or whatever counted as civilized out in another galaxy. Her ears perked as she realized this had to be a planet with an alien civilization. She wouldn't be just the first human to travel beyond the galaxy; she would be the first human to set foot in an alien civilization. Well, technically, Equestria counted as an alien civilization on another world, but that was in another universe that was practically joined at the hip with Earth. This was farther away, someplace that had been around since most of the stars that would die and give birth to the Sun were still young.

And her ears fell as she reminded herself, once again, that no one would know. 

With a sigh, she started autodialing again. 

It picked up immediately after the first ring. "Jessie! What's up!" Jordan exclaimed. "Want me to come over and make dinner again? I am a pretty good cook, and, forgive me for saying this, I've attempted to eat what you cook. Feeding that to someone counts as cruel and unusual punishment."

Jessica rolled her eyes. Sure, her food was often blackened and crispy, but it wasn't that bad. 

"I was calling to say I was going to come over there," she answered. 

"That works, too!" Jordan replied. "Maybe you can help me with-"

Jessica cut her off. "Sorry, it's not a social visit. I'm going there to be picked up by someone else. I'm going out of town for a few days. Would it be an issue if I left my car there over the weekend?"

"Oh," Jordan replied, sounding disappointed. "Yeah, you can leave your car here. When are you coming over?"

She walked over to her dresser and opened a drawer. "As soon as I get my luggage together. It shouldn't take long. Let's say more than an hour from now but less than two."

"That might be pretty late if it ends up being two hours, but I'll wait up for you. The auction is late tomorrow, so I can sleep in.  I'll tell Andrea to tell the guards to expect you. I guess I'll see you when you get here," Jordan replied. 

"Thanks, Jor. See you soon," Jessica said with a smile, then ended the call. 

Okay, it was going to be a three-day trip, she should bring three days of clothes. Phobia hadn't said anything about packing for hot or cold weather. She was already planning shorts and t-shirts for her regular clothes, but she added a heavy jacket with a hood, just in case. There could be gasses, so adding a facemask was a good idea. Instead of her regular shoes, she'd go with the hiking boots her dad had gotten her last Christmas with the subtle hint he wanted to go hiking with her–something she'd never gotten around to. They were the best option if the terrain was uneven or wet. Luna could protect them from most things, including the environment, but it was still best to be prepared. 

Her blanket she wrapped around her pillow, and she would just have to carry the bundle like that. If they were going any distance from the ship, it would need to be left behind, but that was something she'd worry about later. Finishing up, she gathered together her laptop, flash drive, a few feminine care products, some medical gaze, and despite thinking it was silly, added Bunna to her pack–after giving the beat-up plush bunny a little squeeze.

Phobia hadn't said anything about food, and there wasn't any room for it anyway. She had to assume that the ship would be carrying supplies to eat and drink. Rebecca was also going on this trip, and the idea of Rebecca not ensuring there was lots of food available was laughable. Still, she'd ask Luna about it before leaving Wabash, and if Luna was uncertain, she'd raid Jordan's kitchen. Jordan would understand and probably insist on it.

It was too late in the evening to give Mark a call. If they waited till morning to leave, she would give him one last call before going. She'd call her parents and her brothers tonight. The Dreamwardens indicated this trip would be safe, but they hadn't said it outright. That left a lingering sense of apprehension. She couldn't go without speaking to her family one last time.

Her heart started beating faster, and everything's volume began increasing. The full weight of what she was about to do was sinking in. The apprehension grew as she considered how many things could go wrong. A new star could have formed in the area, and they could teleport straight into it. The Devourers had once devastated that region; could they still have remnant forces in the area, waiting for any bold enough to return? What would that much thaumic saturation do to her? Was it deadly? How tested was this ship the Dreamwardens had made? She never learned the full details, and most weren't aware, but it was a Dreamwarden device that had brought about the Cataclysm of Riverview, not something sunset Blessing had dreamed up. Their technology could go terribly wrong. That ship could explode, leave them stranded in deep space, burn up upon entry to where they were going, or crash. So many things could go wrong, and she would never see anyone she cared about again. 

She heard laughter from nearby apartments. Sounds of conversations and television programs blended with the sounds of air conditioners and bodily functions. Flies, mosquitoes, and the buzzing of other insects joined with the chirps of birds in a deafening chorus. It all blended together in a high-pitched roar, and as that roar grew, she heard yells of pain and dismay as her control slipped, and all within her range began to hear it, too. 

Control, she had to reestablish control. If she didn't, she was going to hurt someone. 

A big white blob waved in front of her face, and she jumped back. An even bigger white blob with a frowny face was floating before her. It pointed at her luggage as words appeared written in place of its face. 

Totem

She dug into her luggage, tears in her eyes, and pulled out Bunna and instantly pulled the bunny into a tight hug. The sound in her ears was still deafening, but she could tell it ceased to be deafening for everyone else in her range. She sat on the floor with the toy held tightly in her grip as she focused on calming down. Slowly, in what seemed to drag on forever, sound returned to normal. She looked up to see the blob looking down at her worriedly. 

"If you can hear me, I'll be right back–got to give some vague explanation to your neighbors. I'm sure that freaked them out," Rebecca said, then vanished.

A few minutes passed. Her heartrate and breathing returned to normal, but she stayed where she was, waiting for Rebecca to return with news of how much trouble she was in.

Finally, a muscular raven-haired woman in a business suit, lacking heartbeat or breathing,  sat down beside her. 

"If you are worrying you damaged anyone's hearing, you can stop. Everyone is fine. A few people have a minor headache. I informed them that someone working with the Dreamwardens had a magical mishap and that the OMMR will compensate them for the distress caused in exchange for an NDA. Jonathan is going to be unhappy with me for throwing around the OMMR's money like that, but I felt like it was the easiest way to settle this quickly. I never told them or implied it was you. Most people are aware of your listening powers with sound, but your ability to weaponize it is lesser known. I'd avoid talking about that if I were you if you plan to engage with the public more."

Jessica sighed with relief. "Thank you for taking care of that. I just moved into this apartment. I don't want to get kicked out, or worse, get charged with magical assault."

"Yeah, that would be poopie," Rebecca agreed. 

"How did you know holding Bunna would calm me down?" Jessica asked. 

Rebecca laughed. "Phobia knows a thing or two when she talks about the power of toys and dolls. Honestly, my mind had been on a different doll a few minutes ago, so thinking about stuff like that was fresh in my mind, and that's where it went when trying to figure out how to help you. I mean, I couldn't shout at you. Trying to do something humorous might have come off as me trying to make fun of you, and that would make things worse. I might have gone mirror mode and let Arbiter try something, but my mind went to the toy first, so that's what I tried first. I was ready to try other things if it didn't work."

Jessica's eyes narrowed. "And why were you here to start with."

"I had just finished securing an important asset for our trip and was making sure there weren't any last-minute issues with anything else," Rebecca answered. "It might have been decided for me that I was going to head this mission, but I am heading it, and it means it is up to me to check all my boxes and dot all my i's/so nothing jeopardizes the mission or those going on this trip. I know I avoid coming off as too serious. Seeming super serious isn't very fun, but that doesn't mean I'm not. This mission is a big deal. I have to treat it as such."

"I suppose that makes sense. I appreciate that you are taking it seriously," Jessica replied. 

Rebecca nodded. "Now, talk to me, not as the Dreamwarden watching your every move and micromanaging this mission, but as your friend who cares about you. Tell me your worries and anxieties; talking about them helps. Luna can wait an extra few minutes to get you. She'll understand."