I drove down an empty residential street lined with leafy trees. Between their branches, I could see the sky grow dark with rolling clouds. Coach's voice spoke to me through the radio: “You’ll never be a pro; at best, a hobby”. I frowned and reached out to turn it off, but the knob spun freely in my hand. Frustrated, I punched button after button, but couldn’t block the noise. It started to rain.
I ignored my wet clothes and hair, but I was having trouble seeing through the downpour. I blinked and squinted to block out the splattering raindrops until I found the wiper switch. But no matter what speed I chose, the torrent only worsened. Too late, I saw the approaching ledge and kicked the brakes which bobbed uselessly in the puddle at my feet.
Just before I hit, I jumped and landed on the wet grass, feet spread wide and arms flailing as I tried to maintain balance. But I helplessly slid faster and faster plunging deeply into the dark whirlpool below. Floating like a cork, I swirled around the hole once; twice; and was dragged down. It grew quiet.
I saw nothing but darkness and heard only my own breathing. Carefully, I uncurled and looked about; noticing a single pinpoint of light in the distance above me. I thrust my hand upward, setting a small storm of bubbles flying to the faraway surface. The light answered, rushing towards me. In a flash, it surrounded me like a bright cocoon before melting away leaving behind a picturesque forest scene: plants, birds, a nearby mountain stream... and, above the thick grass where I lay, a tall leafy tree letting sunlight fall down in patches.
Oh, I thought. I remember this dream…
*****************
I woke slowly, regaining my senses one by one. I heard the calming sounds of rain pattering gently on the window. The soft blanket and warm mattress comforted me with their embrace. Glancing out the window, I saw the early dawn’s light beginning to filter through the nighttime rainclouds.
Everywhere around me, proof of my strange predicament remained: white muzzle and hooves, the bedroom that most definitely wasn’t mine, and below the window, the vigilant Dusty lay splayed out with the blankets heaped in places and completely missing in others.
For a few moments, I sat mesmerized by the scene. I watched the rise and fall of Dusty's sleeping torso while the falling rain on the window made patterns of light dance over the floor where she lay. The patter of raindrops on the window and the rhythmic exhales of my sleeping companion filled me with calm. I couldn’t remember the last time I didn’t have someplace to be, something I had to do; a time when I stopped to notice things like rainy day light patterns.
But it wasn’t long until the calm ended and I began to feel restless. I needed to think, and to think, I needed to move.
Carefully, I stood and shook off the blankets. I gingerly stepped on the wooden floor which creaked loudly. Thankfully there was no response from the sleeping mare save a single ear twitch. I stepped as carefully as I could around the corner and down both flights of stairs until I reached the stone floor of the bottom level.
There, the monolith greeted me with its massive blank whiteness. I hadn’t been able to get a proper look at it the night before so I paused a moment to examine it more closely. I saw that there were only a few chipped and carved areas here and there; as if Dusty had just been striking it randomly. Circling it showed no significant progress on any side. How did she get covered in so much dust from just this!? I wondered.
Looking around, I saw various tools and implements of her trade, and towards the back on the raised wooden floor, shelves and stands where other completed works sat. I stepped up and browsed the rows. First I found an ornate fish with cut sapphires for eyes; clearly for use in a fountain or bath. Next was a series of mortars and pestles each with varying degrees of carved designs and jeweled insets. I examined her various works, but what each piece shared was mastery of design and function.
Then a tiny twinkle caught my eye. On a small table under the window, framed in the morning light as if on display, was a dusty cloth with a curious lump underneath. Looking back later, it seemed like I walked in slow motion; the sound of each hoof distinct as I stepped closer and closer. I carefully lifted the cloth with my hoof and gasped at what I saw.
Carved from what appeared to be a single large gemstone was an intricately faceted rose with a gemstone heart at its center. I thought it might have been a trick of the light, but I couldn’t tell what color it was. First it seemed red, then blue, and then green… and sometimes all of them at once.
Involuntarily, I stared in awe at the ceiling where, a few floors up, a pony with the talent and vision to create something this wonderful lay sleeping.
I covered the rose as best as I was able and started for the shop doors. I couldn’t imagine why something this masterfully crafted would be left to gather dust. The very thought filled me with an indescribable restlessness and, more than ever, I needed to be outside.
****************
It was glorious.
The rain rolled in sheets down the steep stone walls and splattered down on the greenery of the garden. On the wall leading up to the square was a carved fish that spewed a furious stream of water which gushed and splattered from the overflowing basin to the grass below. At the other side of the garden was a little whirlpool surrounded by a cluster of leaves where I imagined a heavily blocked drain would be. I probably should have tried to clear the blockage, but then I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the lawn pool…
I jumped and landed with all fours from the stone patio into the water. I swished and kicked my feet around make waves run from side to side. I sloshed over to fountain and then, on a whim, dropped down and started rolling; splashing and laughing like a child. For just a moment, I worried that someone might see me, but figured, who needs to be reserved in a dream?
But this isn’t a dream is it? I wondered. I laid still, my face to the sky, my back in the grass-pool as I pondered.
I thought about how talentless and useless I had felt after this week’s singing lesson. How much I wanted to find purpose and how I hoped being here would help me do so. Why else would I dream of a world where talents are so important that they’re permanently displayed on your flank for all to see?
Maybe the dream really was a gift; a chance for me to earn a mark of my own. The world and all within it actors on the stage during a production of “Who Is Sam”. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t wake up: I hadn’t done what I came to do.
But that was not the only possibility. For me, Equestria represented peace, caring and magic. When my days were stressful, I’d often turn on the show or pick up a comic to lose myself in their world. It was the place that could always raise my spirits.
What if this was an extreme extension of an old habit? A defense mechanism protecting my mind against a harsh reality? If I had been overcome by a dire sickness or an accident…
Can you dream in a coma? I wondered before shaking my head vigorously. No need to assume the worst.
Relaxing into the wet grass, I looked to the sky and held my hoof aloft as if to touch the clouds. They sky was so vast and far away, I wondered if my reality were on the other side.
*Sigh*
Regardless, the inarguable truth was that this place felt real. More than real; alive.
It was hard to describe, but I felt… light, like I was truly free for the first time in my life. My emotions were so close to the surface that I held nothing back. When I was happy, I laughed and smiled. When I was sad, I cried without reservation.
I closed my eyes and felt the rain falling on my face.
Maybe I don’t know why I’m here or what it means. Maybe it really is due to dire circumstances, but…
I rose and walked to the balcony overlooking the rainy gardens and city. It was a vast land of wonder and magic and opportunity
.
… that doesn’t change the fact that being here, for as long as it lasts, is a gift if I allow it to be.
Suddenly filled with a sense of hope and determination, I hooked my front hooves over the railing, took a deep breath, and sang.
**********************
I held my breath as the last note disappeared into the rainy sky.
With natural talent or training, better singers were able to avoid the voice break that I’d struggled with my whole life. They could sing from high to low with strength and dexterity that would make songbirds jealous. I always believed that one day, with enough practice, I would be able to do it too… until my voice coach made me face the facts.
If only he could hear me now! I thought with glee. Fantasy or not, it was the greatest moment of my life just the same.
I wanted to sing again, but I was too excited to stand still. I looked to the shop, but was too sopping wet to go back inside. Besides, I wanted room to move around and I knew just where to get it. A stone stairway by the shop led to a little iron gate and, beyond that, Artisan Square.
Though there were few ponies out and about, most shop doors were already open and bustling with activity. Craft ponies of various kinds barked orders to their apprentices who responded crisply before turning to their tasks. The warm lights of the shops reflected into small pools of water that had collected between the cobblestones of the square.
I smiled.
After a few minutes hopping from puddle to puddle and giggling excitedly, I heard a voice behind me:
“Stop that!”
I turned to see a grumpy looking Dusty who, judging by her mood and her mane, had only just gotten out of bed. I glanced back around the square and tried to find any shop that didn’t look as if it had been operating for hours, but couldn’t find any. When I looked back at Dusty questioningly, she scowled.
“Not everypony is an early riser,” she said exasperatedly, having guessed my thought process. “Some of us work better late at night and… oh nevermind! Let’s just go inside.”
I followed, but felt someone watching. I turned to look at the shop across the square where a colt stared intently in our direction. I smiled and he, surprised at having been noticed, whipped his head around and conspicuously busied himself with his work.
I giggled to myself. I hope I get to meet more ponies today!