//------------------------------// // Tenacity // Story: Unfinished // by redsquirrel456 //------------------------------// Dusk Shine woke up in a cold sweat. It took him a moment to remember where he was: the familiar space between mattress and blanket in his own bed. It was unnaturally cold and he quickly huddled himself further under the sheets, leaving just a small opening for his head to poke out of. The window was slightly ajar, and Dusk Shine bit back a grunt of annoyance as he magically pushed it shut again. He must have forgotten to close it after his nightly stargazing; that always helped him sleep. Outside he saw the buildings of Ponyville all dark and quiet, huddled together under a menagerie of stars. The clock read 11:45. He’d only just gone to bed an hour ago after poring over his books and leaving them where they fell in his haste; poor Spines would have to help him pick up that mess in the morning. His mind ran in anxious circles, dragging him to wakefulness against his will. The thought of all his poor books unattended on the floor just made everything worse, and he tossed and turned and even waggled his hooves in the air to relieve some of his restlessness. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” said somepony right next to him. Dusk Shine kicked his hooves and flung the covers away, curling up as cold air shocked his nerves. Without thinking he levitated a nearby copy of Comet Dancer’s Alchemical Compendium Volume Three to defend himself, suffusing the room in his magic’s gentle purple glow. Shadows were thrown across the walls, and in the midst of them Dusk Shine saw a huge dark pony head, wings stretched to macabre proportions all the way to the ceiling. He gasped and fell backwards over his bed, landed on his head, legs and tail flailing as he swung the book wildly in the air above him. “Stay back! This is four-hundred and seventy-three pages of pain you’re looking at!” A scratchy, deep voice chided him from beyond the bed. “Dusk, seriously? You’re gonna wake up Spines.” Dusk tossed the book aside and rolled upright, resting his front hooves on the bed and peeking across the room. “Rainbow Blitz?” The pegasus rolled his eyes. “No, I’m a changeling. Come on, who else is awesome enough to sneak into the room of Equestria’s top wizard unnoticed?” Dusk Shine let out a sigh, clambering over his bed towards the door. Spines stirred in her basket. “Mmm... Dusk?” she slurred. “What’s going on?” “Nothing, Spines. Rainbow Blitz dropped by.” “Oh, okay... I’ll go put some tea on the kitten...” A purple claw lifted up and groped blindly in the air before dropping back into the basket, followed by Spines’ soft breathing. Dusk smiled and opened the door as gently as he could, Rainbow close behind. Once they reached the main part of the library, Dusk Shine led the way to the circular table in the center of the room they’d held so many group meetings over, the old wooden knight’s head carving still presiding.   Owloysious gave a quiet hoot from her perch near the window, turning her head all the way around to peer at her master and his friend.   Dusk glanced at Rainbow. “She wants to know if you want anything to drink.”   Rainbow shook his head. “Nah.”   The faithful owl respectfully turned back to the window, keeping a steady watch over the night. Dusk sat down at the table with Rainbow, lighting a single candle and setting it between them.   “So what are you doing here?” he asked.   Rainbow shrugged with his wings. “Like I said, I couldn’t sleep.”   “So you broke into my house,” Dusk finished for him.   “C’mon Dusk,” Rainbow said with an impatient roll of his eyes. “It’s not breaking in if the window’s unlocked. Besides we’re buddies: I’d never turn you away.”   “Well, while I appreciate the sentiment, you have to admit it’s a bit strange.”   “Elusive told me about your dreams.”   Dusk blinked. The way the pegasus just said it, without pretense or even a hint of bashfulness, was very Rainbow Blitz in manner, but totally unlike him otherwise. Rainbow never talked about his dreams unless they inspired some off-color jokes or a few scandalized gasps from his friends. Dusk twiddled his hooves, looking at the table. “Then you know I talked to Solaris about it too.”   “Yeah, and you left the rest of us in the dark. Not cool, Dusk.”   Dusk shifted his weight, unable to meet Rainbow’s steady, narrow-eyed stare.   “Rainbow, I just got back eight hours ago.”   “And you locked yourself up in your library the moment the carriage pulled in. I know, I saw. I get it: we all had a busy day and you didn’t wanna bother us or whatever, but you went to the Princes about this, Dusk. You didn’t come to us because you thought it was something we couldn’t help with. I came here tonight because I couldn’t stand it any longer, all the dodginess and scuttling around. I’m surprised AJ didn’t crack first; Honesty and all.”   Dusk’s fidgeting grew more pronounced until he was tracing circles on the table’s surface with his hoof, feeling guilt start to prick at him now. Rainbow pursed his lips and turned his glare to the ceiling. Dusk was relieved: any longer under that magenta stare and he’d have started sweating again.   Rainbow steepled his hooves. “Look, Dusk… I’m just saying I know it’s gotta be something bad if you’re acting like this. Don’t think the rest of us haven’t noticed: The glassy eyes, the way you sort of sway when you walk, how you never quite focus on anything. You just wander around the library all day, going through the motions. I know what lack of sleep does to you, Dusk. Burn all the calories I do and you learn real quick how important a few naps are in the day. When was the last time you actually got an uninterrupted night’s sleep?”   Dusk couldn’t even look at his friend now, but he heard the longsuffering sigh.   “You going to Applejack and Elusive, babbling about your dreams… that was the last straw. I haven’t been able to sleep either, Dusk. I’ve been worried about you, then I come over here and see you tossing and turning, muttering… it kinda freaked me out, you know?”   Rainbow leaned forward, and Dusk felt the full weight of his concerned stare.   “This is something big, isn’t it Dusk? You know me: I can never leave a friend hanging. I want in on this. I want all of us in so we can help.”   In the back of his mind, Dusk felt only the slightest bit indignant that Rainbow lacked so much common courtesy to just stand there and watch his friend sleep; what weighed on him now was far more important than that.   “I… I had the dream again,” Dusk said in a husky whisper. “Just before you got here. I’m going back to Canterlot as soon as I can, Rainbow. I need Artemis’ help with this. I came back so I could do exactly what you want: talk to all of you about it. I was going to let you all know the moment I stepped off the carriage, but when I got back I was just so confused! I mean, the Princes believed me, but that somehow made it worse!”   Dusk buried his face in his hooves. “They believed me, so this really is something big. But I just don’t know if it’s something good.”   “If it’s not,” Rainbow said, coming forward to put a hoof on Dusk’s shoulder, “then we’ll deal with it. We beat Nightterror Nebula. We helped beat Sombra, Metamorphosis, and lots of other things. You know we got what it takes when we do things together.”   Dusk lowered his hooves, dragging them down his face and staring at the gently burning candle. “You’re right, Rainbow,” he murmured, “you’re right. I’ve been avoiding you guys for weeks. I should’ve come to you sooner and… and all those other things I do wrong when I know I should do it otherwise.”   “Hey, you’re our pal,” Rainbow said with another rolling wing-shrug. “You’re allowed to screw up here and there. Solaris knows we all had a lot to learn when we first met. If something messes you up this bad, I can forgive a bit of weird behavior. You remember how I was during the Best Young Flyers Competition.”   Dusk couldn’t hold back a burbling, sputtering laugh. “It wasn’t that long ago,” he said, “but it feels like we’ve come so far since then.”   “That’s because we have. Mostly because of you, Dusk. I mean it, don’t look so modest, bro. You came here and pretty much forced us to realize our potential. Our real potential.” He gave Dusk a gentle pat on the back. “So you’ll talk to all of us tomorrow?”   “Yeah… Yeah, I think I will. In fact, do you think everypony’d mind if you all came with me, to Canterlot? We should be in this together. If the Princes are involved, it’s definitely important enough that the Elements should be close by.”   “Now you’re talkin’!” Rainbow crowed, giving him a playful punch on the shoulder which was followed by a prodigious yawn. “Hey, Dusk, can I crash here tonight? Staying up all day worrying really wears a pony out.” Dusk smiled. “Sure, Rainbow. Just no midnight snacks this time.” “Sheesh, eat one slice of pie and you pay for it forever...” Dusk led the way back upstairs and dragged out a pile of throw pillows for Rainbow, who draped himself over them. Dusk retired to his bed and eschewed his sweaty blanket, staring at the ceiling as he struggled to drift off. Maybe Spines could sleep through Rainbow’s snoring, but Dusk had to pull out some earplugs to make it bearable. Somehow he felt more alone now. In the dark, he found himself wishing that Rainbow had instead stayed up, that he hadn’t blindly promised to talk to all of them in the morning. But it wasn’t morning yet. He still had to sleep. He knew he’d face the dream again, where she waited. “Who are you?” he wondered aloud. “What are you doing to me?” He wavered between two inexorable longings: to see her again and give the dream a chance to turn out differently, and terrified of the implications if it did not. He might very well be having some kind of mental breakdown, doomed to long for the strange mare without ever seeing her, forever stretching himself over an abyss of uncertainty, the short distance between them stretching for miles. The need was always there, but to never be satisfied like a desert wanderer following rain clouds that never gave a single drop was a thought he couldn’t bear. And yet, just for the chance, the sheer tiny hope that this time it might be different, that she might finally hear how he shouted himself hoarse and galloped to cover the five feet that separated them—he’d managed to calculate it having seen the dream so many times—he hoped the dream never went away. In the nauseating grey space between terrified and unable to resist, he fell asleep. He saw her again as he knew he would, and awoke in another cold, uncomfortable sweat just as dawn was breaking, though to him it seemed only a few seconds had passed and he didn’t feel rested whatsoever. With a dreary sigh he roused Spines and Rainbow Blitz, intent on keeping his promise. It was time to get to the bottom of this. ----------------- Twilight Sparkle did not return to Canterlot that day. Rainbow Dash’s nighttime visit hadn’t gone unappreciated. In fact, she was already on her way to explain to her friends exactly what was going on and what she’d need help with. They’d agreed to meet under the same little tree where most of their gatherings took place; the very same spot where they’d watch the meteor showers Luna graced Equestria with every so often. She kept the actual subject of the meeting a secret, but she didn’t doubt that most of them had figured it out already. The sight of all her friends congregated under the tree before she even arrived, speaking to each other in quiet voices, didn’t assuage her concerns. Seeing Pinkie Pie jump up and open a picnic basket that covered everypony in confetti was a welcome reminder that in spite of the gravity of her problem, she could count on her friends to be as consistent and faithful as they always were. “Here she comes!” she heard Rarity stage-whisper to the rest of them, and Pinkie Pie became a blur as she threw the rest of the picnic basket’s contents out on a hastily spread blanket: hay seed sandwiches with liberal spreads of jelly, salads of every kind of grass imaginable, and of course cakes and pastries to outnumber them all. “Hi Twilight!” she squeaked as she threw down a plate of lemon meringue and then adopted a nonchalant posture as if she hadn’t just been tossing food around. Twilight saw beads of sweat running down her neck. “Wow, what a great day for a picnic, huh? Isn’t that just the funniest word? Picnic, picnic, pick-a-nic! Is it because ponies actually try to pick out food at a picnic? Like somepony has to be picky at a picnic when you got a spread like this! The very thought! Ha ha ha ha!” “It’s all right, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight replied, waving off her antics. “I know you’re all a little anxious and my behavior hast just been making it worse. Rest assured I’m going to change that right now.” “What is it, sugarcube?” Applejack pressed, but she and Rarity knew full well what the matter was already. Twilight’s stomach growled. She remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast and licked her lips. “Well... nothing we should talk about on an empty stomach,” she said with a sheepish smile. Pinkie Pie let out a heavy sigh of relief. “And I thought I’d dragged all this stuff out here for nothing! It took me ages to figure out how to keep the eclairs from getting squashed by the crumpets!” And so, heartened by the presence of her friends and the keen, comforting waves of Harmony that washed over them all, Twilight and company sat down to enjoy the meal Pinkie prepared for them. Though it was clear her friends wanted Twilight to flesh out her fears, they wanted her to feel at ease much more. They talked shop in the case of Rarity and Applejack, they shot the breeze with Rainbow Dash, and they frittered away the time with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie’s charming stories. It was so normal, so full of good wishes and homely simplicity that Twilight very nearly forgot about her problem. But in the end, that just made it even harder; she wished this moment didn’t need to be spoiled by the whatever-it-was that plagued her. The unfairness of it was only accentuated by the indifference and ambiguity Celestia herself gave her problem; something as serious as this didn’t deserve a place in their lighthearted circle of friends. She kept all their conversations going for far longer than they needed to, asking pointless questions about the finer points of Rarity’s sewing and Rainbow Dash’s flight techniques, and even though the others caught on eventually they didn’t begrudge her for it. Fluttershy especially was content not to rush into the disturbing bits, speaking endlessly about her animals and her misadventures in the marketplace. To any other pony it was frivolity, but to Twilight Sparkle it was a lifesaving shield, something to ward off the inevitable change that she somehow knew in the bottom of her heart her strange dreams were bringing. But in spite of the pall that hung over them, all their smiles were genuine and their eyes held nothing but compassion. Each little smile through a mouthful of food, every shared glance over a half-eaten danish carried a painful prick of love and guilt at the same time. When most of the plates held nothing but crumbs and they were half-heartedly poking at their salads, Twilight Sparkle got down to business. “It’s time I told you what’s really been bothering me,” she said with a gentle sigh, letting the happiness of the moment flow out of her to be replaced by the driving impulse to explain, to make her issues known. She told them everything. She told them about how the dreams began suddenly and without explanation, how they always involved the same mystery colt, how it seemed like she knew him so well that he might as well be her. She told them about the strange feelings surrounding the dreams, and how Princess Celestia tried to talk her out of believing in them. “The dreams,” she finished, “are real. Celestia confirmed as much when I spoke to her.” “Then... is the colt real?” Fluttershy murmured. Twilight shook her head. “I’m not sure. All I know is that the Princesses thought the dreams warranted some attention, enough that Luna herself will help me try to be rid of them. Tonight, if she can make it. I want to resolve this as quickly as any other pony.” “We’ll be there for you,” said Rarity, laying her hoof over Twilight’s. “Whatever this is, darling, you needn’t face it alone.” “I have for a while, and it hasn’t been working,” Twilight said with a grimace. “I would love for you all to be there when this little... thought experiment plays out. I’ve never dabbled in dream magic before; maybe Luna can give me some fresh insights. Maybe she’ll even be able to enter the dream herself, and see what it is that’s bothering me. Maybe then Celestia will...” She trailed off with a little gasp, a hitch in her throat that made her stop and think. Celestia’s actions had bothered her more than anything else, and she still couldn’t shake them. The Princess had never, ever been disinclined to help her learn before. It was like being talked down to, or even rejected. The Sun had nearly set. Had they really been out here so long? “She’ll be here soon,” Twilight whispered, her thoughts distant, “I sent the letter through Spike before I came here.” Fluttershy gave her a look of doe-eyed concern. “You don’t need more time to get ready?” “By all indications I’m going to have the dream again tonight no matter what,” Twilight said with a grimace, her shoulders slumping. “I want to figure out what’s happening. If Luna can give me some answers, I want them now instead of later.” Rainbow Dash put her hoof on Twilight’s shoulder. “We’re here for ya, Twi.” Without a word they gathered up the remnants of the picnic and followed Twilight back to the library. Spike waited near the door, fidgeting and twiddling his claws in the looming dusk. He jumped at his keeper the moment she stepped inside. “Twilight! It’s almost time. I got your pillow extra fluffed, and I’ve been keeping some warm milk by the bed, you know, just in case you needed help sleeping. I even got out your Smarty Pants doll just in case you needed her—” Twilight placed a hoof on Spike’s head and ruffled his scales fondly. “Don’t worry about it, Spike. Luna’s a master at this kind of thing, she’ll probably just cast a spell and I’ll go right to sleep. She should be here any minute, so let’s get inside.” Applejack tugged on the brim of her hat. “Well, then I reckon we ain’t goin’ nowhere. I already told Mac he’ll have ta’ handle the farm tonight. If we’re goin’ ta’ face some weird dreamscape, I wanna be there ta’ help.” “That will not be possible, Applejack,” said a smooth voice that echoed all around them. The gathered ponies and dragon jumped as a mist enshrouded one corner of the library, and from its swirling indigo depths stepped Princess Luna. “Little ponies, this dream is Twilight’s alone to confront,” she said in a stern voice. “To change the nature of the dream by adding your consciousness could prove disastrous. Dreams are fickle; I cannot summon them, but merely observe and influence them as best I can. It may not come if you all are present for it.” “With all due respect, Princess,” Twilight spoke up, “I don’t think anything we do will stop it. Its regularity, its unchanging nature... I’m starting to question whether it’s a true dream at all.” Luna stared down at Twilight without inclining her head. “Then it is all the more imperative your friends do not accompany us. The mind is a place of powerful secrets, Twilight Sparkle, and none of them should be revealed lightly, not even to friends as close as yours.” Twilight gritted her teeth and puffed out her chest. “Princess Luna,” she said in a voice she prayed was as subservient as it was unflinching, “the first time I came to you and Celestia about this, I was told that these dreams were of little importance and you were here to help me get rid of them. Now I hear you telling me that it’s of the utmost importance that the secrets of my mind stay secret... at least where my friends are concerned.” Without thinking, she took a step forward. And another. She was advancing on the Princess of the Night. Any other day, she might have told herself she was going insane and stopped. Today she fully embraced that insanity because it was hers, and it was the only thing she had to cling to for answers right now. “For the last several weeks I’ve been plagued by a dream that refuses to leave me alone. Every night I go to sleep afraid. Every morning I wake up in the same cold sweat. Every day I wander around my library, puttering like an old maid, knowing that something is missing and I can’t find it, or even remember what wants to be found no matter how hard I try. I’m sleep deprived, I’m upset with how I’ve been treating my friends, and I have no idea what Celestia was trying to tell me when she said that what’s going on is so unimportant yet needs to be erased from my mind.” She stopped a mere step away from Luna’s hooves, staring up at the Princess even as the Ruler of the Moon stared impassively back at her. “Now you tell me that the Elements of Harmony are no help and have no place in my dreams? When they’re the ones that kept me together over the last year and a half? When they’re the ones who put your mind back together?” She shook her head, trembling at her own tenacity. Luna didn’t seem fazed, but Twilight felt scandalized enough for the both of them. “I want to know what’s going on,” she said in a voice that brooked no argument, “and I want my friends to be there to help me.” Silence reigned in the library as the other ponies watched the confrontation in awkward silence. Fluttershy hid under Rainbow’s wing, squeaking out incoherent apologies to Princess Luna over and over again. Nopony moved. Outside, the Sun’s light disappeared and the stars began to twinkle to life. At last, Luna exhaled, and from her nostrils came more of the indigo fog that heralded her arrival. It washed over Twilight’s snout and face, brushed through her mane like fingers, and caressed her back. It wasn’t cold, nor was it warm, but it did feel safe. Like a dozen tiny snakes it coiled around Twilight’s body, feeling less like a fog and more like a space: a block of reality coursing over her. “So be it, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna intoned, and the fog reached out to swirl around the hooves of her friends. “You extended the hoof of friendship to me, and I cannot refuse you the same courtesy to the other Bearers of the Elements. You will not be alone on this journey. Perhaps it is for the best. To seek a dream is no easy feat, and to expunge it even more so.” The fog expanded of its own accord, swallowing the floor of the library. Spike yelped and jumped on Twilight’s back as Luna continued to speak. “But know this. There are things in this world not even the Elements command. Your mind is an infinite place that reaches as far as imagination can go. The pleasures and wonder that reside within are limitless.” The fog rose up, engulfing the entire library and smothering Twilight’s sight. Luna’s voice cut through it just the same. “And the terrors and horror know no boundaries.” Twilight’s eyes closed without her meaning to. “The Night has begun, Twilight Sparkle. Sleep now, and dream.” Spike’s weight was no longer on Twilight’s back. The floor vanished from under her hooves. She had the vague sensation of falling in slow motion, down into the fathomless reaches of something that felt both intimately familiar and terrifyingly alien. She stopped when she struck something soft and pliable. She opened her eyes. ---------------------- “So that’s a teleportation sigil, huh?” Applejack asked, rubbing his chin with his hoof. Dusk Shine cleared his throat. “Yep, that’s pretty much it.” “An’ now we got Bubble Berry’s lunch all over the floor.” “Eeyup,” Dusk Shine said. “The, ah, castle staff should take care of that.” The rest of the group took turns comforting a still disoriented Bubble Berry and trying to figure out just where they had ended up. Dusk Shine’s first attempt at a teleportation sigil transit had nothing technically wrong with it, but only halfway through the shifting tunnel of arcane madness did he remember he was the only one of the group with experience in teleportation. Bubble Berry’s stomach definitely did not qualify. They were somewhere in the castle, of that they could be certain from the lavish tapestries and long hallway lined with expensive busts. On one side of the hall there were windows run through with expensive iron patterning that looked over some kind of courtyard. Dusk Shine glanced down at the teleportation sigil at his hooves, now a complex stain of ash and melted marble on the castle’s immaculate floor. Maybe his exit vector could have been adjusted by drawing the third leyline perpendicular to the astral glyphs, but his lack of sleep had precluded a perfect first test. “Well, with magic that powerful going off in Canterlot, at least it won’t be long before the Princes find us,” he told the others. “We were already waiting.” Out of the shadow of a half-closed curtain strode Prince Artemis. The Prince of the Night spared only a single glance at the mess Bubble Berry made on the floor, and with a flash of his horn it vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke. “Dusk Shine,” he said with a gentle smile, “I am greatly pleased the sigil was not outside your abilities.” Dusk bowed down. “I learned from the best.” Artemis nodded down the hall and started walking, forcing the others to keep pace. “Come, all of you. Talk with me.” “Where’s Solaris?” asked Dusk Shine. “About,” said Artemis. “Now, then. I assume you’ve all had ample time to learn what you can of Dusk’s plight?” “As much as he knows now,” said Elusive. He walked close to Artemis and imitated the Prince’s royal bearing, keeping his head up and his chest out. “We had a very fine talk earlier today about it.” “That is well,” said Artemis. “The bonds of friendship are the tethers that keep any mind under stress from snapping.” He took a deep, slow breath. “I would know that as well as anypony.” The air took on a distinct chill near the Prince. Everypony felt a carpet of solemnity unfurl from around Artemis, seeming to darken the gentle, cool light of the Moon outside. Dusk bit his lip, remembering they day they had purged Nightterror from Artemis’ mind, how the Prince looked so small and broken as he begged for forgiveness. The Prince had since regained his nobility and power, but even now he looked resigned and dismal. The hallway echoed with nothing but the gentle clip-clop of their hooves for several long, awkward minutes. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, yer Highness,” Applejack began, but Artemis shook his head. “I apologize; this isn’t about me. Dusk Shine, did you manage to get a look at the books Solaris recommended?” Dusk skipped a step when spoken to; he was still lost in his own thoughts. “Yesterday, before I left. They weren’t as much help as I thought they might be...” he trailed off to a murmur. Artemis just smiled. “Eventide was quite an eccentric pony, from what I’ve read. She lived during the thousand years between my exile and return. Solaris told me she was proud and secluded, and though her potential suffered for it she nonetheless pioneered the art of dream-seeing for the common pony. I may one day have helpers of my own in the dreamtime.” His smile dropped as he glanced over his shoulder at the others. “But you are not common ponies, and this is not a common dream, which is why I ask that tonight I be your guide. Dream-seeing is a precise and delicate art that is not easily replicated.” Bubble, sufficiently recovered from his episode, jumped up so high he was eye-level with Artemis, startling the Prince and stopping him mid-step. “I think that’d be totally super-duper-rific! The Master of Dreams himself taking us all on some crazy dream ride? Sign me up!” Artemis raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at all the others. “You... all wish to accompany Dusk Shine into his dreams?” Bubble kept bouncing along, utterly impervious to the suggestion that they should stay behind. “Your Highness, I totally don’t mean any disrespect at all, but like, duh! We’re Dusk Shine’s friends, and friends always stick together no matter whatever forever ever, especially when one of those friends is having creepy crazy nightmares!” Artemis looked back at all the other ponies in turn, and Dusk felt his heart swell as each and every one boldly—except for Butterscotch, who had to repeat himself twice—declared their intent to stick at Dusk’s side, come what may. Artemis looked straight ahead again, and Dusk noticed a ghost of a smile playing about his lips. “Well, then,” he muttered to himself, “that is good. Yes, very good indeed.” He led them on past a large door covered in symbols Dusk estimated as dating to the pre-classical era, into a section of the castle Dusk didn’t recognize at all. They left the long, decorated hallways full of statues and windows, and into the dimly lit inner portions of the castle, into tight passages lit only by magical lamps and the light of Artemis’ horn. And then they passed beyond a dreary threshold surrounded by runes, and above the doorway was an ancient phrase of the very first Equestrians. It was written in a dead alphabet, but Artemis knew it well. “Mountain hewn and heights prevailed, friendship’s fire burns forever,” said the Prince. He led them into the dark passage beyond, and Dusk saw the stone was not Canterlot’s white stone, but the dark rock of the mountain itself. “We are inside the mountain now,” Artemis said in a reverent whisper. “This section of the city was built when Canterlot was founded, and there are passages that lead to the crystal caves below. I had them reopened after Metamorphosis’ attack.” Dusk and his friends huddled close to one another as the hallway became visibly older, the decorations humbler, and the architecture more and more simple until they felt like they were wandering the passages of a medieval fort. Rails, warning signs, structural supports, and discarded tools told of the efforts Artemis was going to renovate the timeless corridors. Deeper they went until suddenly Artemis made a left turn straight into a solid wall, but as he touched it the very rock shimmered and disappeared into a violet fog. When it cleared another passage loomed ahead, and the Prince stepped inside, speaking as he walked. “Before Nightterror Nebula, I built this place with my own four hooves and the strength of my magic. It leads to the other side of the mountain and many years ago, it served as a place where I would come and brood over my own petty desires, and dream dark dreams of the day when my Moon would overtake the Sun.” He looked back with a wry smile. “I still come here to brood, but usually only when the castle staff forgets pecans in my morning salad.” Despite his levity, the passage was dark and shrouded, covered in astrological symbols, and it gave every noise a deep, ominous echo. Very soon they came to a set of stairs that took many twists and turns upward. Artemis led them without pausing, and the others didn’t speak except for a few hushed whispers. The stairs went on until Dusk thought they would never end when they came to an abrupt halt, and Dusk blinked rapidly as light struck his eyes from an opening ahead. They came out onto a large circular platform that extended into the open air, ringed at the edge by pillars built in the classical pegasus style, but covered in arcane symbols that even Dusk couldn’t quite recognize. Before them stretched all of Equestria to the north, east, and west. The night sky was open to them, free of clouds and errant pegasi and full of stars and nebulae and the distant cloud of the galaxy beyond. “Whoa,” uttered Rainbow Blitz. “Indeed,” said Artemis. “It was here Nightterror was born, where I sat and fed my bitter selfishness, and where I have sought solace since you six freed me from Nightterror’s grip. And it is here where we will make our first sojourn into the world of dreams.” Elusive pranced in place. “I must say, there doesn’t seem to be a place better suited! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful.” Butterscotch peeked out from under his mane. “It’s a bit chilly, but I like it.” Artemis smiled and took a deep breath of the nippy mountain air. “Come,” the Prince said, “stand together now, and allow yourselves to join with Dusk Shine’s mind. Whatever you do, do not forget that you are not alone. Dreams are often fickle and strange, and to walk within them is something not easily mastered. Stay close to one another: Friendship will be our only guide within.” Without any hesitation, they stood in a circle together. Artemis raised his wings and his horn began to glow, and he let out a single, solitary breath. None of the ponies were alarmed when out of his nostrils came a strange violet fog, inside of which swirled motes of light, some brighter than others. Dusk Shine watched the fog expand without losing its coherency until it covered the entire platform. It felt strange, not like a true mist but not completely solid either. It was a tendril of space, an all new volume that came from somewhere outside Equestria. In spite of its alien nature and the way it almost consciously crawled up his legs, he didn’t feel frightened at all. It reached his nostrils, and he took a deep breath of it. All at once the entire world seemed to fall away from him. The weight of his own hooves pressing onto the stone platform disappeared. The fog creeped over his eyes and he was lost in an infinite expanse of gentle purples and blues, dotted by stars all around. He willingly fell into the new universe though he didn’t fully understand what was happening. He didn’t need to breathe because air simply wasn’t important anymore. He didn’t need to move, for space itself was more of a whim than a place to occupy. He tumbled and rolled through infinity, reaching out with hooves he couldn’t see. From all around, everywhere, nowhere, inside and out, he heard Prince Artemis’ voice. “Sleep, my little ponies. Give in to the Night that surrounds you. Do not embrace it. Rather, open yourselves to it.” Dusk Shine stilled himself, and the weightless feeling increased until he could barely feel himself anymore. “Let your mind take us where it will, Dusk Shine,” said Artemis’ disembodied voice, “for the Night has begun. Sleep now, and dream.” With nothing left to hang on to, Dusk Shine let go. And then he was somewhere else. ---------------------- The first thing Twilight Sparkle noticed was the grass under her hooves. It was soft and pliable: a perfect cushion for her sensitive hooves. In spite of the hustle and bustle involved with saving the world many times over, she was by no means an athlete and had often wished the grass around Ponyville was less coarse. The second thing she noticed was the wind in her face—that perfect breeze ones gets on top of a specific hill by the lakeside—and the light in her eyes. The world gradually formed itself around her, and all of it was familiar but disparate, perfect little parts of a greater whole.   When everything fell into place she stood on a lonely hill under an endless blue sky, only partly cloudy, and a bright light that came from a sun that was warm and bright enough to be comfortable, but large enough to look strange. A book was at her hooves, and although the title was gibberish she knew it was one of her favorites.   She opened it and read aloud, reciting basic magical theory, then transmogrification techniques, and then the recipe for creating spiced yams all in a single breath, because she was just that smart and could relate all of those subjects without even trying.   She heard Celestia’s voice from somewhere nearby. “My faithful student, this isn’t your dream.”   No, it wasn’t. Twilight raised her hoof and took a step forward. In an instant she was in a crowded lecture hall, on a stage in front an audience full of ponies whose features were undefined, but that she knew were all smiling and impressed by her diction and sound, well organized theorems. She pushed her smart looking reading glasses up the bridge of her nose and started a quick slideshow of many charts and graphs of impossible equations and ludicrous quackery, all of them created by her and all perfectly workable once you really thought about it. Every smart pony in Equestria was there, and they were all deeply impressed.   All of her friends sat in the front row, all wearing impeccable suits, and they all paid rapt attention to her as she described ways to bend the very fabric of reality and launch a new golden age of ponydom. Even Pinkie Pie sat still through the whole thing, and Rainbow Dash led their cheering when she was finished. Princess Celestia sat in the far back, in a box seat, and smiled warmly down at her.   “No,” she said, “this isn’t it either.”   She sat at a candlelit table with a dapper young colt at an expensive eatery, and they blushed and smiled while discussing the finer points of leyline interaction and the methodology of establishing connections between specific arcane focal points.   “Pull back, Twilight,” he urged her, “we are not looking for what you want. We are looking for you.”   A warm, pillow-filled room in Canterlot, a view of the cosmos, a comet rushing by, the surface of the Sun, and a simple, small place where there was only her and her friends.   Princess Luna sighed next to her. “This is all very superficial. We must broaden our view past the limited desires of the subconscious ego. We must find what has been affecting every part of you, Twilight. I’m afraid this is going to start to hurt.”   “What do you mean?” Twilight asked, and with a startled gasp she realized she had actually meant to say that. Conscious, rational thinking smacked into her like a brick wall, and then she realized she had actually just run into a solid wall.   “Ow!” she squeaked, rubbing her nose. “What—?”   She looked upwards and noticed they stood at the center of Canterlot Castle’s main courtyard, and she had just run into its outer wall. The pure white stone stretched upwards into an orange sky covered by dark clouds. The towers and balustrades were taller than she remembered, and the grass and trees that surrounded them were yellow and dry. Dead leaves swirled all around, crackling and rustling, but there was no wind that carried them.   “Come,” said Luna, and she headed for the great door that led into the castle. It loomed overhead like a titan. “Now that we are free of the whims of your lower mind, we will be able to properly traverse the dreamscape. We must keep moving, and quickly.”   “Where are the others?”   Luna turned and pointed at Twilight’s chest. “They are with you. They are you, Twilight Sparkle. This is your dream. Concentrate, and give them voices of their own.”   She scrunched her eyes shut, and when she opened them again all her friends stood before her.   “Whoa nelly!” Applejack moaned, holding her head at the temples. “Please don’t tell me we gotta go through that again!”   Pinkie Pie laughed, bouncing in place. “I thought it was fun!”   “Twilight, was that the D-Lux Café on Fourth Street?” Rarity asked. “I could tell you any number of places far better suited for a date.”   “I feel kinda sick,” Rainbow Dash groaned, lying on the dry ground and clutching her stomach.   “I felt… trapped,” Fluttershy mumbled, looking vaguely horrified.   Princess Luna brushed past them all. “That is to be expected. Here, many things are completely at the whim of Twilight’s desires and fears… including Twilight herself. In a manner of speaking, you saw life through Twilight’s eyes, if only for a short time. You shared her desires, hopes, and idle fantasies. Some disorientation is normal for such an out of body experience.”   “Let’s not do it again,” Rainbow suggested as she staggered to her hooves. “You’re cool and all, Twi, but sharing your brain was like a bad roller coaster ride.” “We had to ensure that nothing corrupted the mind of the dreamer,” said Luna, “lest there be unintended consequences. Keeping you safe within the confines of Twilight’s mind ensured she would dream only her dreams. Now all of you stay close, or you will be lost to us until Twilight awakes.” She went straight to the great doors of the castle and pushed them open—with her hooves and not her magic, Twilight noted—before stepping inside. Within was a perfectly symmetrical, perfectly proportioned grand hall of stone pillars, square floor tiles, an arched ceiling, and rectangular stained glass windows. It was evening outside, and moonlight filtered through the windows, some of which portrayed events that Twilight recognized as important times from her childhood. Others illustrated nonsensical sequences of gibberish, full of half-formed images and eerie patterns in explosions of color. Rainbow Dash huffed. “This is already getting weird. How are we supposed to know where to go?” “We do not. Twilight does,” answered Luna. The others looked expectantly to Twilight. “Oh,” she said, raising a hoof to her mouth. “Oh, um... I think... gosh, Princess, what do I do?” The Princess closed her eyes and sat down on her haunches. “Remember the feeling from your dream. Concentrate hard upon it and the dreamscape will adjust itself accordingly.” Twilight bit her lip and furrowed her brow, uncertain. She remembered well enough the feelings the dream elicited and wasn’t sure if she wanted to relive it. But her friends had come here to help her. To back out now wouldn’t honor their faithfulness. “I’ll try,” she said, her small voice echoing across the grand hall. She sat down and closed her eyes. The sound of her friends screaming made her jerk and her eyelids flew open. No, no they didn’t, they weren’t there anymore. Nothing was there anymore! She stood in a vast dark space where nothingness swirled in great eddies around her, and feelings and emotions assaulted her from all directions. She kicked with hooves that didn’t exist and ran to places that never were, panicking and laughing and crying and whispering all at once. She was here and there and nowhere at all, and she had a voice and form that couldn’t sense and yet felt everything. “Princess!” she called out without a mouth. “Help! Help!” “Calm yourself, Twilight Sparkle,” came the Princess’ voice, deep and magically commanding. “This is your dream. You have control of it. Concentrate.” She stood still. More than that, she made herself certain of the fact that she was standing still in a recognizable, rational spot. “That’s it,” said Luna, “ground yourself. Remember what you are doing and where you are going.” “I...” Twilight began, and shocked herself when she found she had a mouth with which to speak again. “Okay. Start simple. Stay calm. I am calm... I am... here.” “Yes,” the Princess encouraged her. “You are here. We all are, aren’t we?” Twilight confirmed it with a nod of her head and a rush of conviction. Everypony’s here. Everypony’s fine. One by one, six lights flickered into being before her eyes—could she call them eyes, or was that important now?—and settled into a semi-circle around her. Pink, blue, purple, orange, yellow, and a deep midnight blue. “Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!” said the blue light. “What the hay is going on?!” The yellow light flickered. “St-stay calm, everypony. Twilight got us back. R-right?” “Calm yourselves, all of you,” Luna said. “Let Twilight think. We are in transit: her mind has not formed the dream around us yet.” Twilight gulped, or at least she thought she did, as she realized the implications of what happened. Her own panic had nearly sent her friends spiraling off into oblivion. But a dutiful protectiveness overwhelmed her guilt as she resolved to do better and keep them all here. Just the sight of them, or the feeling, or the idea of them, or whatever was going on, gave her strength and purpose. “Sorry, everypony,” she muttered, hanging an imaginary head. “I didn’t know I had that kind of control here.” “No need ta’ apologize, sugarcube,” came Applejack’s comfortingly deep voice. “We’re all kinda new ta’ this.” “Goodness!” said Rarity. “I had no idea that dreams were such tumultuous things.” “Be glad you cannot remember the majority of them,” said Luna, her voice losing the air of magical command. “I have not had many that I care to dwell on. Now then, Twilight. You must concentrate on the dream that caused all of this. Remember the feelings it evoked, the images in your mind’s eye, and bring us there.” “We’re with you, Twi!” Rainbow cheered. “Whatever happens, we won’t leave you hanging!” Twilight reached out with invisible hooves and felt the warmth of her friends. Their closeness gave her strength, realigning her thoughts and giving her focus. She saw her mind stretch into straight paths shooting off into the unknown, and began the task of figuring out which was the one she needed. A feeling of nostalgia—or was it loss?—gnawed at her mind, taunting and teasing, begging and pleading. An empty space waited for her. A presence that refused to be ignored. She reached for it. “Focus, Twilight,” she heard Luna say, and her voice reverberated from within instead of being heard from without. “Open yourself to the dream’s influence. Stay calm!” The feelings grew ever more tangible. Twilight flew down the corridor now, pulling her friends in her wake. She felt herself losing control, going faster and faster, heading towards a great barrier in her mind that stretched across the width and breadth of the hall. “Twilight!” Luna called behind her. “Do not lose yourself! You are going too far! Something isn’t right!” But Twilight didn’t listen. Something drew her like a tether hooked into her mind, and she knew her friends felt it too. None of them seemed to notice Luna’s warning, and none of them tried to slow her as she rushed headlong into whatever drew them all. The feelings only grew stronger as they went, and Twilight gradually became aware of the sensation of movement, the sound of her hooves striking a stone floor, and the sound of her breathing in her chest, eager and deep. The lights behind her grew stronger, and she became aware of her friends as well, all of them swept up in Twilight’s emotional slipstream, eyes wide with an instinctive anxiety, something deep inside them telling them to go closer, to unlock and discover and befriend. But there was something else too. Twilight pushed it away, feeling entirely overwhelmed by the proximity of her fellow mystery dreamer. And then they came to a barrier. It was an imposing wall of blackness that barred her way down the dream hall, and she screeched to a halt directly in front of it. The others gathered around her, silent and still. They didn’t know what to make of it, but somehow Twilight knew they felt the same as she did. Whatever was beyond called to her, needing her to break down the wall and come through. Their uncertainty was subsumed by their desire to see.  “This is it,” she said. “This is the same thing that’s in my dream. I’m standing right in front of my dream! This is what’s been keeping me from seeing him!” “Is that it?” Applejack asked in a hushed, awed voice. “Gosh, that weren’t so difficult.” “It feels strange,” Rarity murmured, “but beautiful at the same time.” “We gotta get through,” said Rainbow Dash, emphatically stamping her hoof. She turned and looked at her friends, who all had bodies of their again, but not their normal ones. These new forms seemed as pure and bright as when the Crystal Heart’s magic swept over them. Everypony glowed bright as stars the same color as their Elements while motes of light shaped like their cutie marks swirled gaily around them. She gasped. “The Elements. They’re reacting to something!” She turned back to the barrier, and felt the weight of her tiara drop down on her head. Magic hummed insistently, the sound seeming to intensify the longer she stared at the barrier. Something, somepony, was behind it. This was the veil from her dreams that had kept her from knowing what ailed her. All they had to do was get through it and she’d have her answers. “Girls,” she whispered, “come here. I need you all for this.” “Twilight!” Luna shouted from down the hall. Her face was twisted with fear and loathing. Something seemed to be repulsing her, something she couldn’t bear to be near. “No! Don’t! Get away from there!” Twilight shook her head. “This is it, Princess. This is what we were here to find, wasn’t it?” “I didn’t expect this!” Luna pleaded, less a ruler and more a normal pony ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. “Twilight, you must trust me: that thing is dangerous! Come away from there and let us be rid of it! Use the Elements to purge it from your mind!” “Look at us, Princess!” Twilight snapped, gesturing at herself and her friends who stood nearby, united and glowing with their radiant Harmony. “The Elements can’t destroy anything! They never do! They didn’t kill you and they won’t get rid of this, whatever it is! This is what Magic was trying to tell me about. Are you saying the Elements are wrong? Why is this so dangerous?” “Twilight, I swear, I will tell you everything if you just let me by. We are not safe here!” She took a step forward. Magic lit up on Twilight’s brow and threw her back with a pulse of light. Luna staggered, looking betrayed and indignant. “How dare you,” she growled at the Element instead of the pony wearing it, her horn glowing angrily. “I am trying to protect her!” “From what?!” Twilight shot back. “What’s inside of me that I have to be so scared of? What’s behind this wall?!” Luna shook her head, turning to the others. “You must listen to me: Twilight is not in her right mind. I didn’t know what we’d find down here, but this is the last thing I wanted to see! You must trust me. That barrier is here for a reason: it cannot come down! It feeds on your knowledge of it! If I tell you now, we won’t be able to stop it! We must close the door before it’s too late!” Twilight snorted, unable to bear Luna trying to turn her own friends against her. Her thoughts had never been more clear! Whatever was behind this veil was what they were here to find! Her friends wouldn’t make her turn back now. It was for that reason she felt a shiver of relief when the others didn’t leap to support the Princess. “I feel funny, Princess Luna,” Pinkie Pie began, “like the funny I did when the Elements first lit up. I don’t think it’s a bad kind of funny.” “Far be it from me to defy the will of a Princess,” Rarity added, “but just look at us! I feel it in my heart: Generosity is speaking to me like it never has before! We came here for something important, and now it’s so close. I’ve never felt so certain, but of what I cannot begin to imagine...” “The Elements have always been honest with us,” Applejack agreed. “Don’t you think you’re jumpin’ the gun a little here, Princess?” Luna looked desperately at the others. Fluttershy just kept her eyes closed, aloof to the whole affair and basking in Kindness. Rainbow Dash had her forehooves crossed over her chest, chewing her lip. At last she came to a decision with a flippant shrug and fluttered closer to Twilight. “Loyalty’s important,” she said, “but only when it’s to the right cause.” “I don’t believe this!” Luna shouted, stomping her hoof as she lost the last shred of Princessly composure. “I am the Ruler of the Night! The Mover of the Moon and master of dreams! I have lived a hundred lifetimes and wielded the Elements against enemies you cannot hope to comprehend! I will not be talked down to by novices in the ways of Harmony! Twilight Sparkle, come away from there before you do something everypony will regret!” Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “The only thing I’m regretting is letting you in here.” The gentle student inside her balked at her own insolence. The mare that had never been so sure of herself shouted the other side down. Twilight didn’t know if she had always been this brash, or if she was finally lashing out against all the times the Princesses had asked so much of her and to accept it all so blindly. She didn’t feel guilty or remorseful for talking this way, not when she wanted, needed a demand of her own. She knew what she was doing with a conviction even greater than when she had suspected Cadance of wrongdoing; and hadn’t she been right and all the others wrong then? Hadn’t she been the one to uncover the legend of Nightmare Moon, hadn’t she been the one smart enough to befriend Luna first? At what point was the trust going to go both ways? She bowed her head, trying to rein in her reeling emotions. “I’ve spent my whole life learning. I know more than anypony else that knowledge can be dangerous. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to shy away from it, not even because you tell me to.” “Think of Celestia!” Twilight’s eyes flew open. “If she wanted me to learn, she’d give me the freedom to do it!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. Magical energy exploded outward again in a radiant bloom of light, swirling all around her like a shield. The thought of Celestia’s fake, tired smile ignited her anger all over again, and here in her mind where she was in control, she would have none of that doubt and condescension from a pony she thought of as a second mother. Princess Luna’s eyes narrowed, and Twilight felt the full force of her authority bearing down on her mind. This was a strange magic unique to the Princesses, one she had only ever seen and never felt. Luna was willing her to submit, forcing her to comply. Twilight shuddered fiercely, but she felt the warm, comforting presence of Magic buoying her up, pushing her back into the ring and giving her the strength to stand. This was where she said no. This was where her destiny became truly hers. “This is my mind,” she said with a note of dread finality, “and my dream. I’m sorry, Princess, I really am. But I have to know what this is.” With a great exertion of willpower, she ripped her gaze away from the Princess, feeling something tangible tear between them. She turned back to the barrier, and her horn began to glow as she reached into the impenetrable shadow. The moment she did, she regretted it. A stabbing pain lanced down her horn and straight into her skull, spreading out like the roots of a tree until it wrapped around her brain and dug straight into her soul. Magic’s call became a banshee wail and then a painful, rending screech as something rode her lifeforce down to scorch her deep inside. She instinctively tried to push the horrid vice away with a burst of magic, but it felt like the ghastly claws just held all the tighter, tearing her mind apart like paper. Twilight couldn’t be certain whether the horrible grating noise came from the attacker, or from her own throat as she screamed in pain and fright. Something pulled hard on her conscious mind, yanking her back from the wall no matter how she kicked and yelled, and she felt a sensation like she was falling into herself. She attempted to call out to her friends, to do as Luna instructed and find another part of her dream to take shelter in, anything to remove the agonizing hooks digging into her skull, but nothing worked. She was pulled and dragged through the shadows of her own dreamscape, feeling like her very horn was being pulled out of her skull. But in the midst of the madness, she saw several things flash before her eyes at once. The ruined Castle of the Two Sisters, deep in the Everfree. A strange mountain with an old fortress at its peak. A map of strange, arcane symbols she couldn’t understand. The stars in the sky, wheeling overhead, and then coalescing into a bright, searing light that crashed down upon her and destroyed everything in sight— And then it stopped. Twilight saw darkness at first. But she was aware of the weight of her body and her eyes moving behind her lids. She flicked her tail and took a deep breath. She was awake. Her eyelids slid up and she beheld the walls of her own library still shrouded by nightfall. The sight of dark shelves and well organized books comforted her after the nightmarish experience. As she came to, she felt her head pounding and a stabbing hot pain coming from the base of her horn, burning like an angry fire. Feeling more tired than she’d ever felt in her life, Twilight lifted her hoof and gingerly touched her head where horn met skull. It felt damp and warm. In front of her she saw the long legs of Princess Luna step into view, and heard Luna’s voice as if from a distance. “I am sorry Twilight Sparkle, but I could not allow you to go any further. Very rarely have I severed the connection of a dreamer to their dream so abruptly, but you left me no choice. I will take my leave of you now, as I do not believe you wish to be near me after what I have done. But first...” A gentle, cool glow embraced Twilight. Her headache immediately receded, but not entirely. “That should help you to recover from your ordeal. In the meantime, rest. Your friends will see you abed when they wake, and a doctor from Canterlot will be here tomorrow.” Twilight tried to say something, but her throat was dry and her thoughts were still blurry and unfocused from the harrowing experience. Instead of words she managed a half-hearted gurgle; she was too tired and disoriented to do any more. Luna went on. “I give you this one final warning, Twilight Sparkle. Do not attempt to find that dream again. I have placed a lock upon the memory of it, and should you try to undo it, you will fail. I offer my deepest apologies, Twilight. You did not deserve this, but what you were doing could not be allowed. I hope that one day you will understand.” Twilight reached out for Luna’s leg, grunting like an animal, but the Princess’ form dissolved into a mist that quickly vanished. Twilight’s hoof dropped to the floor. It was smeared with blood. Twilight felt more oozing down the side of her head, dribbling into the cracks and spreading over the floor. It dripped into her eyes, but she felt too empty inside to do anything about it. She lay there utterly still, watching it spill over her eyes drop by drop until her fading vision was painted red.