Black Angel

by Zobeid


02 - The Sunless Lands

Lucien fetched a number of books filled with lore about Nightmare Night and Nightmare Moon for her to peruse. She sat at a reading table and flipped through book after book with her magic, skimming through them, sometimes stopping to read a passage more carefully, and her mood grew ever more sullen — to the point where a dark cloud began gathering over her head. When Lucien saw that she would be at this for a while, he set about occupying himself by shelving some books.

After some time a raven flew in through the open doors of the library, and alighted on the back of a chair, and announced itself in a raspy voice, “Hi, Lucien!” Then the raven flicked a wing in the direction of Nightmare Moon and asked, “So this is the new nightmare, huh? Wow, she looks the part! I really like her mane.” Nightmare looked up from her books and perked up her ears at the raven.

Lucien ruffled his feathers slightly and said, “Err, yes… I suppose she does look the part. Nightmare Moon, this is Lord Dream’s personal raven, Matthew.”

“Personal raven?” she echoed.

Matthew answered, “From what everyone tells me, it’s an old tradition. The boss has gotta have a raven, it goes with the job. Anyhow, mostly he just has me fly around and carry messages. Like right now, I’m supposed to tell you Nuala’s got your room ready.”

Hovering in the blue aura of Nightmare’s magic, a hefty tome snapped shut and floated onto a stack of other books, where it was released. She said, “I suppose these will wait. For now, I’ve had about all I can stomach of such blatant defamation.”

Lucien said, “Well then, if you have no more questions for me, perhaps Matthew could lead you to your quarters.” Nightmare Moon assented, and she departed the library with Matthew fluttering ahead of her.

As they went down yet another indistinguishable hallway, Nightmare wondered aloud, “How does one navigate in this castle? It seems disorienting.”

“You’ll get used to it. I can give you a few tips, though. First thing is, forget about using logic. You’ve got to follow your gut — I mean, you know, intuition. And the other thing is, stay on the path until you get to wherever you’re heading. If you go poking your nose into random rooms, well… There’s some stuff that can mess you up bad. Raw dreamstuff, even. Only the boss can work with that.”

“Ah. That would be his special talent, I assume.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Whatever. Oh, hey! There’s Mervyn Pumpkinhead! Let’s see what he’s up to, huh?” The raven flapped ahead to an intersection of hallways, and Nightmare Moon increased her pace to catch up. She found him perched on the head of a marble bust, chatting with some of the strangest creatures she’d yet seen. Leading the crew was what appeared to be an animated scarecrow with a jack o’lantern for his head. His body seemed nothing more than a framework of broomsticks with clothes loosely hung over them: a white shirt, blue overalls, and a pair of green gardener’s gloves with fingers that flopped limply, yet were somehow capable of grasping objects. His face was carved into the pumpkin in the typical way of a jack o’lantern, yet his mouth moved when he spoke, and the eye holes also changed shape easily to create varying expressions.

Fluttering around him were several brown bats. Nightmare Moon smiled at the sight, as she always considered bats to be cute and friendly little animals. Then she did a double-take as she noticed each of these bats was wearing a tiny bowler hat and smoking a tiny cigar. Bringing up the rear was a large and muscular gray stallion wearing a heavy horse collar, harnessed to a cart that was loaded with bricks and bags of mortar.

Matthew was already talking to the scarecrow, saying, “Hey, Merv. I got a job for ya. There’s a new nightmare moving in.”

Mevyn took a puff from his cigarette, which resulted in smoke curling back out through his mouth and eye openings. “What, like I ain’t already got a day’s work in front of me? Cripes! It’s Mervyn, build an ocean over here, knock down the city under the willow tree over there. And incidentally, Mervyn, this time remember that ice is customarily cold.” He took another puff and then pointed at Nightmare Moon with the cigarette. “So who’s the new guy?”

Nightmare Moon snarled, “Guy? We are no ‘guy’. We are a princess of Equestria, thou dullard!”

Mervyn’s eyes widened and he raises his glove-hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, hold your horses, your worshipfulness! I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Sheesh.”

Nightmare gritted her teeth and held back the first sharp reply that came to mind. After a moment she said, more calmly, “We understand that we are new here, and that the inhabitants of this realm are steeped in ignorance of pony kind; therefore, we shall make some allowances.” She stepped closer and snorted in Mervyn’s face, and continued, “But we shall expect thee to learn quickly. Dost thou understand?”

Mervyn gulped and took a step back. “Sh… sure, I got it, Princess. No problemo.”

Matthew interrupted their exchange, desperate to change the subject. “Anyhow, Merv… Nightmare Moon is staying here in one of the guest rooms for now. But Nuala said she’s gonna work as a nightmare. You got an old creepy castle or something in the Nightmare Realm that she can use?”

Mervyn chuckled and said, “Does the pope shit in the woods? We got creepy old castles like you wouldn’t believe.” He swiveled his pumpkin head to look at the big gray stallion and asked, “You can pull one outta storage, can’t you, Abudah?”

“Ayuh!” rumbled the stallion with a nod of his head. Nightmare focused her eyes on Abudah and favored him with a thin smile. He met her gaze just for a moment, then suddenly developed a keen interest in examining the floor around his front hooves.

Matthew nodded and then said, “I figure you could put her home just over the border into the Nightmare Realm, close to Cain and Abel’s houses. The boss’ll want her close by where he can keep an eye on her.”

Mervyn grumped, “Oh jeez Matthew, that’s primo real estate. What am I gonna do, shuffle the whole damn geography to fit a castle in there? The boss can keep an eye on her anywhere in the Dreaming. All he’s got to do is twitch his nose, or whatever, and he’s there. But no… It’s easier for him if ol’ Mervyn Pumpkinhead busts his gourd moving hills and castles around.”

Nightmare Moon peered at Mervyn curiously. “Thou speakest of thy lord and master with such insolence?” she asked.

“Hey, I’m a straightforward kinda guy. I mean, some of us aren’t afraid to call a spade a goddamn shovel. You ever want to hear the straight dope around here, missy, you just come and ask Mervyn Pumpkinhead.” He called over his shoulder, “Ain’t that right, Abudah?”

“Ayuh!” rumbled the burly stallion.

“Anyhow, it’s been fun, but we can’t hang around yakking all day. Some of us have real jobs to get back to. C’mon, Abudah!”

“Ayuh…” grumbled Abudah, and he started pulling the cart.

Nightmare Moon drew in a sharp breath and glared at Mervyn as he sauntered off down the hallway with the bats fluttering around his head. She hissed, “I didn’t dismiss him.”

Matthew ruffled his wings and said, “Manners and protocol aren’t really Mervyn’s thing. And, well… Don’t take this the wrong way, lady, but there’s only one boss in The Dreaming, and you ain’t him.” He glanced at Nightmare’s face and noticed, with some alarm, her sullen expression and another dark cloud starting to gather. He added, “Maybe we should get you settled into your room. This way!” He took wing, and she followed.


Time in The Dreaming is an elusive, ill-defined concept. Nightmare Moon settled into her chambers, doffed her armor, and slept a sort of unsatisfying, dreamless sleep of indeterminate duration, then roused and went to seek breakfast in the castle’s dining hall. Thus she reckoned it was “the next day” (or perhaps more accurately “the next night”) when Lucien approached her. She noticed a nervous looking colt following at his side as he came to her table.

Nightmare lowered the fork she’d been levitating and dabbed her mouth with a napkin to clean away traces of syrup. Contrary to the horrible tales she’d read in Lucien’s library, she was not in the habit of feasting on the blood of innocent ponies — though she suspected that Taramis would have been happy to provide exactly that, if she’d asked. Cinnamon-oat pancakes were probably more filling anyhow.

Seeing that he had her attention, Lucien said, “If it pleases my lady, Lord Dream would like to see you started in your new job. To that effect he has assigned another nightmare to show you the ropes, as it were. May I introduce the Vermin Kid?” With a wing he nudged the gray colt forward.

“Hi,” said the colt.

Nightmare Moon nodded politely and even forced a weak smile. Breakfast had improved her mood, and she saw no reason not to be amiable. She said, “We are pleased to make thine acquaintance, young pony — GAAAH!” She jumped back from the table, wide-eyed, her hooves scuffing across the stone floor, wings flaring out.

The colt looked at her with his mouth hanging open. “Is something wrong?”

She stared. A rat peered back at her from inside the colt’s mouth. She winced and pointed at him with a hoof and said, “You have a… a…” She pointed at her own mouth.

The colt closed his mouth and gulped, and then said, “Oh yeah. That’s why they call me the Vermin Kid. It’s no big deal, really.” A large cockroach crawled out of a hole in the underside of his jaw, scurried around his muzzle and then burrowed into a nostril and disappeared.

Lucien added, “As I said, the Vermin Kid is a nightmare. He is not intended to be a comforting dream. Nonetheless, I believe you will find him conscientious and helpful. If you are ready to get started, I could have someone fetch your armor.”

Nightmare Moon turned her eyes away from the Kid and answered, “That will not be necessary.” Her horn flared with a midnight blue aura as she cast conjuration and her armor flashed into existence before her. She levitated her helmet and gorget into place, and stepped into her sabatons.

The Vermin Kid led her out of the castle and down a winding path through a barren landscape under a murky sky. His pace was leisurely. After a time Nightmare Moon asked, “How far is it?”

The colt shrugged. “Dunno. A ways.”

It wasn’t much longer before they passed a weedy field of moss-stained tombstones. More graveyards were visible up ahead, and a pair of large, Victorian styled houses. The colt pointed and said, “That there is the House of Mysteries where Cain lives, and over there is his brother Abel’s House of Secrets. They’re some of the oldest dreams, and they know lots of things. And when we get past their houses, we’ll enter the Nightmare Realm.”

They sauntered on past the two houses, and the sky became gray, the air more chill. A dark castle loomed on the horizon, though it seemed incomplete. Nightmare Moon frowned and said, “Is that to be my new home?”

“I guess. It looks like they’re still working on it. Let’s go see!” They picked up their pace and followed the path to the castle entrance.

There they found Mervyn and his construction crew, plus the Fashion Thing. Abudah was harnessed up with a web of ropes leading to one of the castle towers. The Fashion Thing trotted back and forth, tail swishing as though flies were biting her. She stopped and stared at the tower and said, “No, no, no! That won’t do at all. Now the castle’s facade isn’t symmetrical. The towers need to be balanced like a pair of strong shoulders to project a sense of strength and intimidate all who approach.” She pointed. “You have to move the other one.”

Mervyn groaned. “Come on, Maddie, give me a break! We’ve been moving this stuff around for hours. What does it matter if the tower is a few feet one way or the other? Nobody is gonna care.”

Maddie huffed, “Oh, nobody is going to care? Is that what you think, you philistine? Well, I see the Princess is here. Let’s ask her if she cares how her new home looks!” She trotted over to Nightmare Moon and bowed down. “Your Majesty!”

Nightmare nodded warily. “Fashion Thing… I was not aware you were involved in construction.”

“She’s not!” yelled Mervyn.

“Normally I’m not,” Maddie admitted, “but after meeting you yesterday, well, I knew you would need someone with a sense of style to help get your new home in order. These louts would have saddled you with a mere generic dream castle like dozens of others. Those are not fit for a princess!”

Nightmare just stared at the one-eyed, rainbow-maned pony.

Maddie shuffled her hooves uncomfortably and added, “Of course it would be my greatest pleasure to decorate the interior as well. That was what I had in mind when I came here, but then I saw what these ruffians were doing with the outside, and, well… I just couldn’t stand by and watch.”

Nightmare glanced over at Mervyn, who was sitting on a stump, puffing on his cigarette and grumbling to himself. Her lips quirked in a sly smile, and she said to Maddie, but loud enough for all to hear, “It is well that thou hast cometh to my aid. We trust that Mervyn shalt giveth thee any and all assistance.”

Mervyn groaned while Maddie broke into a grin and said, “Oh thank you, Your Majesty! You won’t be disappointed, I promise.”

Mervyn slapped his forehead and then stomped over to Abudah and said, “Let’s get you hitched up to the other tower.”

“Ayuh,” sighed Abudah with a resigned tone.

“We shall expect everything to be in good order by the time we return!” added Nightmare Moon. Then she nudged the Vermin Kid with a wing, and they continued along the path.

It was only a short walk before they encountered smaller buildings alongside the road. “Now we’re coming into Anytown,” the Kid explained.

“How descriptive.”

“Places get mixed up a lot in The Dreaming. Sometimes it’s better not to try and keep track of which town is which. They all sort of run together and make up Anytown.”

Nightmare Moon looked around appraisingly. It didn’t look all that different from the town she had first landed in after returning from her exile in the moon. What had it been called? Ponyburg? She hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

A few ponies were about, though they seemed to be wandering aimlessly with dazed expressions. Nightmare eyed a couple of them and wondered what she was supposed to do here.

The Kid said, “It’s easier to show how things work than to explain it. Just follow along and watch me! There’s some dreamers now.”

The colt walked over to a few ponies who were standing and talking near a cafe. “Hi Guys!” he said.

The adults glanced at him, and one stallion said, “Hi, kid.” Then his gaze wandered to the large, black, armored alicorn standing close by, and he did a double-take. “Holy Celestia, that’s Nightmare Moon!” His companions whinnied and reared, eyes wide.

“Holy Celestia?” Nightmare Moon snarled. “HOLY CELESTIA? THERE’S NOTHING HOLY ABOUT MY SISTER, YOU CRETINS! I’LL SHOW YOU HOLY HELL!” Her shout stunned the ponies (Vermin Kid included), almost knocking them off their feet. The dreamers quickly recovered and scattered, fleeing in different directions.

Nightmare wasn’t going to let it end that easily, so she spread her wings and took off after the one that had spoken. Her horn flared with midnight blue, the aura reaching out and slamming the stallion to the ground. She landed over him. Looking down upon him, her features twisted with rage, she raised an armored hoof. “I’ll show you who is your rightful ruler!” He cringed in abject terror as she brought down her hoof on him — and with a poof of vapor he was gone.

Nightmare blinked and stepped back. “What? Where did he go?”

The Vermin Kid trotted up to her. He gushed, “That was awesome! I’ve never seen ponies run like that. You ought to give me lessons. You’re amazing.”

Nightmare gawped. After a moment she said, “I was supposed to do that? Where did the stallion go? How did he get away?”

“He woke up,” the kid explained. “Dreamers disappear when they wake up, and they go back to the waking world. They always wake up if you scare them bad enough. And that’s cool too, because they forget most dreams, but they remember if you scare them awake.”

“I… I forgot that it was a dream. That’s it? That’s my job, to jump out at ponies and scare them?”

“Um… Something like that.” He scuffed his hoof on the ground. Nightmare winced as she noticed shapes moving around under his skin — mice crawling around, as near as she could tell. He went on to say, “I’m not great at explaining stuff, but the way I was told, it’s like our job is to warn them about stuff.”

“Warn them about what, exactly?”

“Um. Maybe that’s the wrong word. It’s more like training. It’s like… Okay, maybe somepony dreams about a manticore, right? A manticore is chasing him. And then someday he’s out in the woods in the waking world, and he runs into a manticore — or some kinda monster, it doesn’t have to be the same — and he’s kinda ready for it, because he’s done this before, right?”

“Because he remembers the dream?”

“Yeah! I mean, no! They don’t remember most of the dreams, but it sticks in their subconscious mind. So they probably don’t remember, but it’s like they’ve already practiced running from monsters. It’s like conditioning.”

She pondered that for a few moments, then looked at the Vermin Kid again and asked, “Do they run from you?”

The Kid suddenly sneezed, spraying some wriggling maggots onto the ground, then wiped his nose with his pastern. “Not usually. I’m not really that kind of a monster. I mostly just creep ponies out. Different nightmares warn ponies about different kinds of things. I make them more wary towards nasty stuff, mostly, like diseases and parasites.”

Nightmare scowled. “Somehow I had expected to perform a function with deeper meaning. Running about acting as some sort of mere bogeymare, like a fairy tale villain, is beneath my station.”

Nightmare Moon followed the Vermin Kid as he navigated the town’s streets with confidence, though their path seemed random to her. A few ponies reacted to Nightmare’s presence with fear, just as the first stallion had done, but most barely seemed to notice her. “You aren’t the focus of their dreams,” the Kid explained. “To them you’re just a weird figure in the background. When you get used to it, the Dreaming will guide you to the right dreamers, or them to you. A little of both, really.”

Distracted, Nightmare was startled when a small pony collided with her, bumping into her forelegs. She looked down to see a peach colored pegasus filly. Annoyed, Nightmare chided her, “Mind thyself, foal!”

The filly gulped, eyes wide and screamed in a truly piercing tone (in the way that only fillies can), “EeeeeeeEEEEE!! Nightmare Moon’s gonna gobble me!” She turned and sprinted away as fast as her little hooves could take her.

Nightmare stared after the fleeing filly, her face a mask. The Kid asked, “Aren’t you gonna chase after her?”

“What? No! No, I most certainly am not going to chase foals. I’ll not play the role that my sister wrote for me in her horrible stories.”

The Kid frowned. “I think you’re supposed to chase them. I mean, Lord Morpheus might not like it if you don’t.”

Nightmare Moon snorted and stamped a hoof on the ground for emphasis. “If he objects, he can tell me so himself, but my answer will be the same.”

The Kid’s eyes went wide at the idea of anyone challenging the Dream King. “Wow. Okay then. Uh…” He looked around, uncertainly. A dull thumping sound came from a nearby building. He nodded toward it. “Maybe we could go to the club, check out the nightlife?”

Nightmare quirked an eyebrow. “Night? Life?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He led the way to the plain gray building with a metal door that only had TECH NOIR painted on it. The Kid rapped on the door with a hoof. In a moment it opened, and he went inside with Nightmare following.

They were in a small entryway with a couple of wide doorways going into a darkened area, from which emanated a loud, thumping beat and some flashes of colored light. A gray stallion moved to block the Kid’s way, though. “Hay! You don’t belong in here!” he accused.

“What? I’m older than I look, really.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before!” He squinted at the colt, then his face contorted with disgust. “Oh cripes, what’s the matter with you? You’re sick or something.” He snorted and shook his head. “You ain’t comin’ in here. Beat it! Scram!”

The Kid backed up several steps, then turned and reared up on his hind legs to whisper to Nightmare Moon, who lowered her head to accommodate. “Can you do that thing like in Star Wars to get us past this guy?”

Nightmare nodded. “Of course, child.” She smiled and stepped forward, and nodded toward the stallion. Her horn lit up with an aura of ultramarine blue, and searing white fingers of lightning shot forth from it to strike the stallion. His bellow of surprise was cut short as the lightning bolts knocked him off his feet and he crumpled to the floor. After only a couple of seconds the lightning dissipated, leaving him in an unmoving, smoldering heap. “Easily done!” Nightmare commented, looking pleased with herself.

The Vermin Kid bit his lip and then mumbled, “Not the thing I was thinking of.”

“Come along!” Nightmare ordered. “I wish to see this ‘night life’ of which you spoke.” She strode through one of the doorways, and the Kid trailed after.

The floor of the club was dark, smoky, crowded with oscillating pony bodies, and a loudly pulsating noise pattern that Nightmare Moon guessed might possibly be related to ‘music’, albeit loosely. She lowered her muzzle to Vermin Kid’s ear and yelled, “WHAT ARE THEY DOING?”

“DANCING!” he yelled back.

Nightmare Moon stared at the ponies around her, who seemed to be having spastic fits, and tried to correlate their motions with any sort of dance she’d ever known — and failed. As she watched them, she felt a sudden bump on her royal flank. Her startled reflex was to kick, but her hoof failed to connect. Annoyed, she looked back to see a chubby stallion. “SORRY, DUDE!” he yelled, then did a double-take as he realized this very large, black pony was not a ‘dude’ at all. Nightmare glared back at him, and an aura began to gather around her horn, but the other pony scurried and was lost in the crowd.

The music (if it could be called such) faded and an amplified voice boomed, “We’ve got a crowd tonight! Hey, is that Nightmare Moon? You’re little early for Nightmare Night. I got no candy, but DJ P0N-3 can lay down some sick beats for ya! Get a load of this…” Nightmare glanced over the heads of the other ponies to identify the DJ, a white unicorn mare with a short shock of blue hair for a mane, and eyes concealed by purple shades. Her horn glowed as she manipulated vinyl records and a pair of turntables.

A scratchy sound came from the deck, and the DJ gritted her teeth. She applied a tiny extra nudge of magic, trying to get the needle to slot into the groove, but instead it went skating across the record. Zzzz-ZZZT! Many in the crowd groaned, while others laughed. The DJ chuckled nervously into her microphone. “Just a second, folks! I’m on this.” A feedback squeal rang out, prompting more groans and a few boos from the crowd.

The Vermin Kid nudged Nightmare Moon and told her, “Machines usually don’t work right in dreams. This must be the DJ’s nightmare, messing up in front of everypony.”

Nightmare Moon growled, “I can see that. I know how dreams work.” With that she vanished, her body dissolved into dark smoke and swirled around the hooves of the crowd, flowing up to the stage. The smoke cloud coalesced behind the DJ and reformed into Nightmare Moon. DJ P0N-3 was still struggling, apparently trying to work the equipment with her hooves and mouth since her magic wasn’t cooperating. Nightmare floated a record over and said, “I have a request.”

The DJ lifted up her shades with a hoof, blinked her ruby red eyes at the record, but the label was blank. “I can’t… I’m having a little trouble here, give me a minute?”

Nightmare smiled and pushed the record closer. “Use your magic, it’ll work now. You’ll see.”

The unicorn took it in her own magic and moved it onto the turntable and set down the needle. The music that poured out was definitely not her usual jam, more like some sort of goth stuff, but at least everything was running again. “Hey, uh… thanks!” She looked around, but Nightmare Moon had already vanished again.

The door of TECH NOIR swung open, and oily black smoke poured out to the street, then formed once again into the shape of Nightmare Moon. She took a deep breath of night air and mused, “It’s been a long time since I’ve meddled in the dreams of others. A thousand years, but now it’s coming back to me.”

She spread her wings and took flight, lofting higher and higher above Anytown. The Dreaming will guide you to the right dreamers, the Kid had said. There was only one dreamer that Nightmare Moon wanted to see. Her horn glowed softly as she cast a spell extending her senses.

Was the one she sought even asleep now? What time was it in the waking world? Perhaps it didn’t matter. Nightmare Moon had become a dream. What did time even mean to her anymore?

There. Some subtle impulse crossed her senses, inexplicable and unknowable to one not versed in dream magic. She spread her wings and soared like a buzzard on the scent of a carcass.

As she soared the dishwater skies above the Sunless Lands, Nightmare Moon was glad she’d left the Vermin Kid behind. He could look after himself, and she needed a bit of time and privacy to clear her head. She pondered.

During her tenure as Princess of the Night she’d developed some measure of power in dreams. She’d been able to enter them, observe and influence them. And yet, her perspective had always been limited. She’d always been an intruder in this world, even though a puissant one. Now it was different. She was seeing the entire world of dreams from the other side. She was in the troupe now, rather than the audience.

She gazed down at the surreal, moonlit landscape passing below. In some ways, she reflected, her new viewpoint was like the difference between flying and walking. The landmarks were the same, but from above one could see so much more. And yet, for one new to flight, even the most familiar landmarks could be hard to recognize — everything looked so different from above.

What am I? The question nagged her. A ghost? “If even that,” Lucien had said. A figment of the imagination, in a realm defined by its own unreality? Long ago she’d studied philosophy. Very little of it had stuck, if she was honest with herself, but she remembered this: I think, therefore I am.

She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw with determination. I have some kind of existence, however tenuous. As long as there’s life — or even some semblance of life — there’s hope for me. I won’t give it up!

The magical scent was getting stronger. She was drawing closer to one who might answer the riddle of her existence, or at least provide another piece of the puzzle. Nightmare Moon slowed her flight, circling on an updraft. She would have to approach with caution. This dreamer, she knew, was canny in the ways of the dream world.