FOR THE EYES OF THE GREAT OFFICE OF ORDINATION, OBSIDIAN TEMPLE. ORDINATOR GENERALS ONLY.
Extract 1
My name is Veni lyn Sol, born of House Sol, one of the original families to make the perilous journey from Equestria. My house numbers in the hundreds, two-hundred and twelve by last census, although I am sure there are more.
My father is a bauxrat herder. My brothers are bauxrat herders. I am an artist. I live in Mareib, upon the lakes, and I paint for the affluent that will give me the time of day. I enjoy my work, and I’m told I’m quite skilful, though whether or not that is the truth is up to debate.
Our Lord is Saint Taous the mage-king. The year is 1014. Yesterday, the Griffonian Empire, whom many of us thought beyond salvation, invaded Aquilea. My partner, beautiful as can be, is named Lily Pad. She tells me I shouldn’t concern myself with the news across the ocean. Part of me believes that’s down to all the news with Equestria and the Changelings – she gets terribly upset over it. I can’t blame her; whilst it hasn’t been my family's home for centuries – for her, it’s only been a decade or so.
I cannot imagine what prompted her family to travel here. It’s hardly a bad place to live, by any metric: the ordinators keep the cities clean and free of crime, Saint Taous is an excellent leader and we‘re one of the few nations to get out of the issue with the Storm King relatively unscathed. Simply put, however, I can’t understand why she’d come here, out of everywhere in the world. We’re surrounded by nations much richer than ourselves, with much greater opportunities and much greater beaches.
Nevertheless, I am thoroughly glad she did choose here. I’ve known her for two years, but it’s felt like a lifetime. I wish to wed her one day, she truly means the world to me. I would give everything for her smile, she's so very wonderful.
I’ve been saving up my gold for a long while now. I put a little bit on the side with every painting I sell, and I hope by the winter I will be able to afford a wedding worthy of her. I know she cares little for money and material things, but I want us to have a very special day, because it's the least I can give her. I can't afford us the best of lives, but I want us to have something to remember fondly when we grow old.
But enough of the niceties; I’m afraid I can’t quite say everything is perfect at the moment. I’ve hardly heard any news from Father this month, which isn’t like him. It’s become a good feature of my month, sitting down by the lake and writing back to my family, and it’s rather annoying to have it disrupted like this.
They tell us that mail will be slower at the moment. They’ve not gone heavy on the detail, but they’ve said that ordinator patrols of the cities have had to increase, and that’s left the mail lines down to Casabronco a lot more sparse. The journey to Mareib isn’t very unsafe, per se, but the threat of cliff prancers makes ordinator patrols a necessity for any type of delivery.
I’m not terribly sure why there are more ordinator patrols around here now. I can’t form a good reason why; nothing in particular has happened recently, to my knowledge. I haven’t heard of any increase in crime, nor have I seen it myself, which makes the whole situation quite curious. I do hope everything is alright. The world feels like it’s burning, I pray there is at least one solace.
People do say there are strange things going on here. A more worrying piece of news I received yesterday was that Saint Taous hasn’t been seen for a good deal of time, which I most certainly hope is not tied to the patrols. I’m not sure what this nation would do without him – he’s such a kind stallion, and he saved us from the Storm King when I was just a colt. I have a great deal of respect for him; it’d be sad news indeed to hear he rests with our ancestors.
Other than that, no big news, but I suppose news does come slowly around here. My first thought was war was finally approaching, and I suppose we've been getting away with peace for far too long. It doesn't make it any better, I still believe it to be a barbaric matter, but at a time like this, it's just an unfortunate fact of life, and all we can do is pray there is light at the end of the tunnel. There's no real indication of it, though. The borders are more or less the same, so it isn't anything to do with our neighbours. Just a curious thought.
Though I'm not usually one to be greatly superstitious, I can’t help but feel things have been going gravely wrong as of late. It feels connected, in some strange, vague sense. Excuse the inclusion of myself into this ordeal, but I’ve found myself waking up in the middle of the night far more frequently than is usual. At first, I believed it to be nerves; I had a big job coming up from a very wealthy member of House Hayvanni (a portrait of them casting a spell, which I found hilariously in character for a member of such a house). However, what disturbed me was that I had a very similar dream the following night.
It’s all the same, and that’s what scares me about it. It’s far too frequent to just be the ramblings of my subconscious. Every night, I have a long, terrifying nightmare. I wake up, and I can remember only one part, but I always remember it vividly, as if it had really happened the day before. Again, it wouldn’t be too far out of the ordinary were it not for the fact that every night, it features the exact same pony. If it were my partner? Perfectly normal. But it never is. It’s the same pony: tall, bony, with an ashen coat and a mask of silver with three holes for eyes. It always has this stare, but I’ve never even seen its eyes.
I vividly recall one dream. I was standing by some massive tree, and I was surrounded by corpses. They were there. They walked about, waving and making polite conversation with the bodies, but never got any response back. I couldn’t even breathe. Then, finally, he came to me at last, with a small bowl full of water from a pond that surrounded the tree, and they spoke to me like I was their friend – told me it was an honour to see me here. Then my hooves moved to take the bowl, and I tried to stop, but I couldn’t. I drank from it, but I never was able to swallow it. My body just seemed not to listen.
Then I woke up. And I remember just feeling so… insignificant. It really put some sort of weird dread inside me.
The part that terrifies me, however, is that Lily has been waking up in the middle of the night too. I remember asking her what was up, since I was already awake, and she told me she had a nightmare. I thought nothing of it, until she started telling me details I’d had in my own dreams. She described the exact same pony. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t want to worry her, so I just pretended she hadn’t mentioned it and tried going back to sleep.
That’s been running through my mind ever since. This has all been very recent, but it's made the thought of sleeping horrible. I feel like it’s a sign. It must be. The details were far too identical to be coincidence, and there’s no silver-masked pony we know.
If dreams are a window into the soul, I must admit, I don’t want to know what’s going on with it.
I’ve tried drawing the pony from memory. It’s been a few days now, and every night I’ve seen them, so I just keep adding more and more details over time. I can’t remember the last time I got a restful night’s sleep. It’s driving me insane.
Now Lily is not a superstitious pony, not like me, anyway. She’s Equestrian, and their society is a lot more secular, from what I’ve heard. Even still, she’s told me she’s sure that those dreams are linked, and I’m inclined to agree.
It feels like a message, of some sorts. Lily agrees. She told me about their Princess Luna, and how she can patrol dreams, or something along those lines (Equestrian theology isn’t a specialty of mine). I’m deathly scared that it might be a similar sort of thing. I hope not.
I’m not sure who to even talk to about this. I can’t, really. They’ll think I’m crazy, and maybe I am. In fact, maybe I’d even go as far as to say I’d welcome it, because if these dreams are any indication, I pray this pony is a figment of my imagination.
Extract 2
Father got a message through to me. It was nice to hear from him again, and I had a lot of fun writing out what I'm going to send back. It's good the mail lines are back up again, that makes me worry a bit less about family.
Brother's ill again, apparently. They sent him to the doctor, and I'm being told there's nothing to be concerned about, but I hope this doesn't strain father back on the farm; they have enough issues as is with the way that the weather's been recently, the bauxrats have been acting funny. I don't know a thing or two about herding them, but I do know they're hardly the sorts of creatures to act in any sort of way that deviates from their usual eat, laze about, sleep.
I was sat at the docks again, writing under a parasol in this café I like, when I noticed something peculiar – there were a bunch of ordinaries, dressed in their fancy armours, and they were dragging somepony who kept shouting about the House system. I didn’t listen in to much of it, they were pretty eager to get them out of the way, but it was just a bunch of political nonsense. It’s terrible how those poppies have changed ponies around here, it’s about time they actually did something about it. Outlanders keep bringing it in, and it’s ruining lives.
Another dream, again. The same pony, of course. It’s beginning to feel more and more truthful, but I’m not scared of it like I used to be. The last dream opened my eyes.
I was stood there, in my dream, in some sort of desert. It was foggy, and the land was flat and detailless as far as the eye could see, except some weird jagged crystals that jutted from the land in great chunks. They walked out of the mist, and they spoke to me. I couldn’t hear any of it, it just sounded like these harsh syllables – but they spoke so very soothingly. It was vaguely comforting. Still, I tried to walk, but I guess I hadn’t learned anything from the last few dreams, and it felt like I was rooted to the spot.
Then they reached out, and placed their hoof to my forehead. It felt wonderful, in a weird way – good for my soul, if that makes sense, like being told you made somepony proud. It was then I knew they weren’t ever as bad as I thought, they were so very kind. It was a lesson, in a way, not to let initial impressions deceive. They never said anything else, but I knew they spoke to me.
Then I woke up. And for once, I felt rested, and everything felt alright. I just had this slight sense of insignificance, like I’ve been doing nothing my whole life. Though, if I’m honest, I can’t tell if that’s just a general feeling I get – it’s hard to tell.
But it’s a pattern now, and I know it.
I know they’re out there, somewhere, and they’ve chosen me. I don’t know what strange lottery they picked me from, but they’re speaking to me. I can’t guarantee it, but I really do believe they’re giving me these strange messages out of kindness, because they know me. I don’t know how, maybe I knew them long ago. They seem great, they seem important but kind, and they have this strange sort of authority to I can’t quite put my finger on.
They’re just… always on my mind. It’s difficult to concentrate. Sometimes I even wish I was asleep, just so I could dream. It’s like meeting up with an old friend.
I’ve kept up with my artwork. I have it down pretty well, I believe. From the landscapes, to the pony themselves. I must have tens of pictures of them by now. Lily ended up finding one of them, and that ended up giving her a massive fright.
I told her she shouldn’t be scared, that I’ve just been having similar dreams, but she kept thinking she was insane. She went out to stay with her sister across the city for a night whilst she calms herself down, but I really don't understand what prompted a reaction like that. She’s been hardly present recently – even when she is staying at our apartment, she spends more time attending the Obsidian Temple for spiritual counselling than she spends with me. She’s not even religious!
Dreams have always been strange, always been connected to those around us – it's the imagination at work. So what's so terrifying about him? We don't cry when we see the same people as we walk the streets. I think she just sees nightmares, and pleasant dreams, but there are only dreams. She doesn't believe in greys like I do.
Extract 3
I’m never one to get angry, even at the worst of times. But she said such horrible things about that pony, things I couldn’t quite forgive. She believes it to be some ill spectre, or all manner of horrible things, but I know all that is false. She just hasn’t dreamed the same dreams that I have. She can’t dream like I can. Maybe she isn’t worthy enough.
It's a terrible thing to say, but it's so very true. It's paining me greatly, but every day my contempt for her grows. I wish it wasn't this way, it tears me apart to even think it. We had another disagreement, and I ended up spending some of the money I'd saved up – money I saved up for us. I don't know why, whether it was out of vengeance, or hopelessness in that regard, or any manner of different things.
I would feel guilty for it, but I can't help it. If we cannot agree on the simplest of things, on the one issue I am truly passionate over, how can I choose to spend the rest of my life with this mare? No. I cannot sit about and be complacent. I've spent my entire life being dragged down by fools, and I will not fall for the same things again. I will, for once in my life, do as I decide. If we cannot agree on the most fundamental of philosophies, I cannot trust her. I cannot put up with ponies that seem to hate such good messages.
It is truth. These are not dreams – this is a beckoning. This is a call for me to meet with Him. All along, I’ve been trying foolishly to find an answer, but the answer was so very clear all along.
He is here. I haven't felt this way about anything for the longest of times, but I find myself so very passionate about this issue. It truly feels like times could finally get brighter, like there's finally someone that's willing to do what's necessary to fix things. Not just here, but everywhere. He promises such beautiful things, I just wish all could see it the way I do; it'd be a world without war, without conquest or misery. There is hope yet for this world. I'm so proud to be a part of it.
Extract 4
We didn’t dream last night. Why didn’t we dream? We have seen Him in my dreams every night. He’s always there, He’s our friend. But not last night. It was terrible. It was nothing, like some dark void. We just slept and then we woke up. We didn’t see anything, we didn’t hear anything. We’ve been trying to tell ourself that it’s fine, that it’s just one night, but we're so very scared.
The last dream we saw, he finally spoke to us. He told us his name. Equiynala. The name demanded respect. He dressed like some sort of king, and we knew from then on that they had called to us. These weren’t dreams, these were beckonings. These were our calls to action, to heed His word. But we didn’t, and we've never felt guilt like this. We betrayed His trust, we must’ve. He stopped speaking to us, he stopped calling out to us, and we know it’s our fault.
We are going to do everything in our power to spread His word, like He would’ve wanted us to. We are going outside, to preach His word. We are telling everypony that the Great House is risen. What a joy it is to be alive! What an honour it is to be the first to hear His call!
We were granted visions of a figure beyond life, with a warrior of crystal flesh and metal bone that shall re-shape the fates of armies that dare oppose He. History shall forever smile upon He.
We have so much purpose now. We were so very lost. We surrounded ourselves with ponies who didn’t truly understand, but now that we see so clearly, it’s so evident these were never our friends. They don’t trust us like He does. They don’t care for us like He does.
The Great House is risen. This is our one chance to make things right, to finally make our imprint on this foul world. This is the only truth. We are needed. The God-King of the Mountain calls to those righteous enough to witness He. His return shall finally toll the bell of peace everywhere. Is there a more beautiful thing? Maretania shall be rid of the outlander threat; free to rule as it needs; free from the pacts of nations that do not understand us.
Tomorrow, we shall make the pilgrimage to His shrine, where He promises to grant us gifts they do not understand yet.
Extract 5
He loves us all. God loves his children.
We cannot sleep. Why can we not sleep?
Where are you, lord? Why can we not hear you, lord?
Speak to us, please. My mind is so very quiet. I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.
Everything is so wrong. This city is wrong. Everything is out of place. Everything is so faithless. We must put it right. We must put it right.
God loves his children.
All extracts provided to the Temple after intensive investigation from subject recovered from the Hayvanus District of Mareib. Ordinators have informed their family in Casabronco, psychoanalysts from Equestria have been provided and the matter of rehabilitation is being looked into. Locals had reported disruptive behaviour two hours prior to subject's arrest.
The pattern of Dreamers, as the Office has entitled them, has becoming a more and more concerning fixture. Ordinators have reported messengers of the House of Troubles in all great cities, including (but not limited to) Mareib, Casabronco, Tenkozogo and Beihoof. We have determined this to be linked to the cult of the Fourth House, a theocratic group dedicated to the long dead House of Troubles. All Offices of Ordination have been sent a variation of this message. By strict order of the Obsidian Council, we have been informed to treat instances of Neighgoth Worship as a form of highest treason and incitement of violence. Questioning of the guilty is required.
Until cleared as safe to deal with, the only official outside the Temple cleared to deal with the afflicted is Mylesi val Hayvanni. Any interference shall be considered an interference in House affairs, and will be dealt with in whichever way House Hayvanni deems fit.
Increased volume of ordinators necessary by the Obsidian Temple. Lord Taous bin Hanbal has informed that it is nothing to be concerned about, but to keep vigilant. No public statement is to be given.
Praise the Council.