With a clatter, Nightmare Moon’s bare hooves touched down upon the steps in front of the Dream King’s palatial castle. It was not a particularly long flight from the far more modest castle that was her new home. As she approached the entrance, the three giant guardians turned their gaze upon her: the griffin, the pegasus, the dragon. She flicked a wing in greeting, and favored the pegasus with a coy smile. Subtly she posed; mindful that it was the first time he’d seen her without her armor.
“What is your business?” he asked.
“To visit the library and confer with Lucien,” she replied.
The pegasus nodded. “You may enter, Dark Lady.”
She nodded in return as the castle doors swung open, and she entered. Despite Lucien’s and Nuala’s complaints about the castle being short-staffed, she did encounter a few other dreams going about their business, making their way around the halls. Most of them appeared as ponies to her, although rather eccentric. Nightmare did not engage them, avoiding eye contact.
She let her intuition guide her through narrower hallways, toward the library. As she walked her gaze wandered to the side doors. Unmarked, they teased her curiosity, but she recalled Matthew’s warning and stayed on her path.
She was pleased, although not too surprised, to find the library open. Somehow her intuition had tipped that Lucien would be found here, despite his many other duties. As she entered, she found the owl hunched over a reading table with quill and scroll, making out some sort of list. She cleared her throat to get his attention.
He looked up, blinked. “Ah! Nightmare Moon. I trust you are fully recovered from your mishap some while back?”
“For a while now, yes. I have settled into my castle and have been engaging sundry dreamers as I encounter them. I seem to be getting the hang of it.”
The owl peered over his glasses. “I’m not privy to all the particulars of what transpired, but I hope you learned from that encounter. Your time among the living is over. You’d best not try to meddle with the workings of their world.”
Nightmare Moon narrowed her eyes, but maintained her composure and responded coolly. “I did learn from that incident, and your point is taken.”
“Very good. Well then, what can I help you with tonight? Would you be looking for more stories about Nightmare Night?”
“Not this time. I am interested in brushing up on ritual magic. Would you have any references on the subject?”
Lucien’s bushy eyebrows bunched together and the corners of his beak bent into a frown. “Reference books? Hurm. The primary concern of our library is stories, you know.”
“Yes, but you did say you have every book that is dreamed of. I’m sure scholars dream of reference works. And you know… Some occult rites might do wonders for the ambience of my castle.”
“Well, yes… Of course we have reference works. I merely meant to say, they’re in one of the less-traveled ancillary wings of the library. It may take a few moments, but I’m sure we can find something.”
“By all means, lead the way!”
Soon Nightmare Moon was scanning the titles on a shelf. “Hmmm… The Golden Dawn. The Horn of Everfree. The Witching Way of the Hollow Hill. The Book of Shadows. Ooh, shadow magic! That looks interesting.” She levitated a tome from the shelf, then blew across the top of it, raising a cloud of dust. “I see what you meant about this wing being less traveled.”
“Is that all you needed, lady?”
Her thoughts skipped back to the book he’d found for her when she visited before, the one she’d dreamed of writing when she was only a filly. “Actually… If you have anything pertaining to a pony named Spell Nexus, I would be interested in reviewing it.”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
Nightmare Moon spent several productive hours in the library, learning what she could of Spell Nexus — which was not much — and studying multiple branches of ritual magic. Ideas jostled in her mind, and plans began to form.
Using arcane ceremonies, symbols and properties, unicorns could combine their abilities to cast spells of great complexity and power — spells that could potentially transform the land. Such rites, in ancient times, had created the enchantments that bound Equestria’s sun and moon to magical control and had tamed Equestria’s weather and seasons. Ritual magic created artifacts of immense power, such as the Crystal Heart, the Golden Horseshoes, and the Elements of Harmony. In the darkest times, rogue unicorns had even used them to create monsters to fight in the Wizard Wars: griffons, gnolls, stratodons, manticores and hydras.
If Celestia had entrusted Spell Nexus with the armor for study, then he must be one of the most accomplished scholars in Canterlot. Further, his special talent was ritual magic, and he presumably had access to the resources needed to perform those ceremonies. If Nightmare Moon could gain influence over him, make him her pawn — no, her bishop! — then she might convince him to cast any spell on her behalf. The possibilities for undermining Celestia’s rule were almost unlimited.
She flipped through the spell books, considering her options. Plunge Equestria into endless night again? No… Celestia would be quick to reverse that. As long as Celestia inhabited the land of the living and Nightmare Moon was exiled in the world of dreams, there was no transformation Spell Nexus could work that Celestia could not unravel — although some with greater difficulty.
Spell Nexus could do many things for her, but he could not confront and defeat Celestia. Even if it were possible to overthrow her, who would rule? Luna? If not Luna, then some puppet ruler directed by Nightmare Moon from her place in the dream world? The Dream King would most likely notice that and put a stop to it, sooner or later.
Luna…
Nightmare began looking for mind control magic. If Spell Nexus could use a ritual to bring Luna back to her senses, then perhaps Nightmare Moon could truly live again. What were the odds of Spell Nexus reversing the effects of the Elements of Harmony? Nightmare squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered her last encounter with Luna. No… She knew, somehow, that path was closed to her. Luna would never accept her again.
Her study was interrupted briefly when the Fashion Thing brought in a tray with tea and scones, of which Lucien also partook.
After resuming her studies, Nightmare gradually began to feel tired and frustrated. There was nothing she wanted more than to return to Equestria, but every avenue she explored was blocked.
To return to the world of the living, she would need a living body. If not Luna’s body, then who? Spell Nexus had the broken remnants of her armor, the only remaining items in the waking world that identified with Nightmare Moon and no other pony, not even Luna. With a dark ceremony it just might be possible to conjure a new pony from the armor: a body that could become Nightmare Moon’s alone, uncontested.
That left another problem. Assuming such a living vessel could be made for her to inhabit, how would she get to it? The only way out of The Dreaming was through the two gates: one for true dreams, the other for false dreams. The gates were controlled by Morpheus, and he wouldn’t let her simply walk out.
There could be other possible paths from The Dreaming to the waking world. The Doorways in the Mist, perhaps — if she could figure out how to find them, or how to follow them to a destination of her choosing. Perhaps Death or some other god-like being could carry Nightmare away from The Dreaming — if she knew how to contact any such being, or any reason why they should help her against the Dream King’s wishes.
She slammed shut a book, stood up, stretched. Many sessions of research such as this might be needed before all the pieces of her puzzle came together, if it ever did. Wearily, she left the library and began to make her way out of the castle.
As she plodded down a hallway, Nightmare Moon’s eyes wandered to the side doors again. One of them was ajar, and silvery light, as if moonlight, spilled out.
She stopped. Did this room contain Morpheus’s secrets, she wondered? His treasures? His tools? Perhaps even the raw dreamstuff that the raven Matthew had spoken of? Only the Dream King could manipulate it safely, he’d told her — but Nightmare Moon was still Princess of the Night, was she not? She even had a splinter of Morpheus’s essence within her, supposedly. The thought was tempting.
To defy a clear warning was risky. She knew, though, that she would never get what she desired without risk. She perked up her ears and listened closely, but detected no one around. She nudged the door with her muzzle, swinging it open wider.
Her jaw dropped. Before her was a vista of another world. She could see a lake spilling into a waterfall with walls so convoluted, folded upon themselves, that it looked as though the water was pouring into the center of the earth. Perched overhanging the further shore of the lake was a large wooden building shaped like a giant basket ringed with windows. In the distance beyond, a flock of birds took flight into a peach-tinted sky, with wisps of cloud scudding in front of three moons, one of them abnormally large, another quite small.
Lost in wonder, Nightmare Moon took a few steps through the door into the fantastic, alien world. She took a deep breath, inhaling the mist from the falls. She peered at the unfamiliar faces of the moons, partially obscured by haze.
An itch tickled the back of her throat. Something in the mist perhaps. She coughed, reflexively. Perhaps a gnat had flown into her open mouth while she was gawping. She coughed again, irritated by the distraction from the amazing world she’d stepped into.
Then she gagged. There was definitely something stuck in her throat, something bigger than a gnat. She retched.
A stab of pain and fear went through her as something far too big came up her gullet and out of her mouth. It was… a hoof? Eyes wide, unable to breathe, too panicked to even think of what spell might work in this impossible situation, Nightmare Moon fell onto her rump and reached with her own front hooves, trying to grasp the foreleg that now protruded from her muzzle. It waggled.
“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I’ve got to get it out!” she thought.
Her body heaved, convulsing in grotesque parody of birth. Another hoof and leg joined the first as they pushed further out of her mouth. She felt her jaws and throat stretching far beyond any normal limits. The pain was excruciating as an entire head followed. Nightmare Moon’s jaws stretched almost beyond recognition as an equine body emerged from her, slick with a sheen of blood.
After a few more seconds of abject agony, it was over. The thing had come out, and Nightmare Moon was left sprawled on the ground, gasping for air as blood dripped from her mouth and nostrils. Barely able to move, she turned her eyes upward to the silhouette of… herself?
The black pony that loomed over her was an alicorn with a midnight blue mane like her own. It was the eyes that clinched it, though: those cold, cyan-blue eyes, with slit pupils like a dragon. She was looking into her own eyes, and they flickered with recognition and with hate.
Her doppelgänger bared her teeth in a feral snarl, then reared in preparation to strike with her hooves. Nightmare Moon merely flinched, for she had no strength to do any more.
Just as she was about to be struck, a shadow interposed. “STOP!” It was Lucien’s voice.
The false nightmare stumbled back, startled, seemingly confused. Its gaze flitted between Lucien and Nightmare Moon, then it turned and fled. It leapt into the air above the lake and flapped away into the haze.
Lucien turned to look down at Nightmare Moon. “What have you done?”
Unable to answer, she closed her eyes and let him drag her back through the door, to the safety of the Dream King’s castle.
After the door was shut behind them, Lucien looked down at Nightmare Moon and scolded her. “That was incredibly foolish! If I hadn’t come along when I did, that thing could have destroyed you.”
Still badly shaken, Nightmare gasped, “What…? What was it?”
“I think I know what it was, but I’d rather let Lord Morpheus explain. He’ll want to see you after this. Come on then, if you’re able to stand… I’ll take you to the infirmary.”
The infirmary was a dreary place with bare stone walls, floor and ceiling, and simple, metal-framed cots. Nightmare hobbled in and collapsed on one of them. At the end of the room were a sink and cabinets, and a few implements hanging on the wall that looked a bit too much like carpenter’s tools. An ash-gray pony wearing a doctor’s white coat came over. “I’m Doctor Saw Bones,” he announced brusquely. “What ails ya?”
She glanced helplessly at Lucien. He took the hint and said, “Nightmare Moon was exposed to raw dreamstuff, and something, umm… emerged from her. Check her over, if you please? Meanwhile, I shall go inform Lord Morpheus of the mishap.”
The doctor took her temperature, put his stethoscope to her chest, checked her reflexes with a little rubber mallet, looked down her throat with a tongue depressor, then finally snorted and said, “You’re as healthy as a horse. Just take a couple of aspirin and call me in the morning.”
“That’s it, you’re releasing me?”
“Well… Since you’re here, we could do some surgery. Might I interest you in amputation? I think you’d look stunning with a wooden leg. Polished ebony, perhaps?”
She blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him. “I think you’d look stunning crushed into a small sphere.”
The doctor blanched and backed away. “Uhh… I’ll just let you rest.” He turned and bolted out the door.
Within a few minutes Nuala entered the room and blurted, “Princess Moon! Are you all right?” Before Nightmare could answer, the fairy rushed over and wrapped her slender arms around her neck, hugging, and half-burying her face in the royal midnight-blue mane.
Nightmare Moon’s mind whirled with confusion. The fairy was invading her personal space, and yet it felt rather… nice, under the circumstances. At the same time she wondered, did Nuala actually care about what happened to her? Why would she?
Even without speaking, Nightmare’s body stiffened, and Nuala seemed to suddenly realize she’d overstepped herself. She released her grasp and backed up. “Oh! Oh, I’m sorry… Your Majesty!” She took another step back and curtseyed.
“We will… ah, overlook thy familiarity, this once. And we are feeling much better.”
This was overheard by Lucien and Lord Morpheus as they came into the room. From her place on the cot she was unable to bow, but she lowered her head in respect.
Morpheus stared for a moment, silently, then said, “Nightmare Moon, you have been in my realm only a short while, but this is already your second brush with your own destruction. You will not survive long if you continue in this manner.”
Still not meeting his eyes she responded, “Forgive me, Lord Morpheus. I don’t even understand what happened.”
“No? Then listen closely! You entered a room full of pure, unformed dreamstuff. Unprepared and ignorant of how to shape it to your will, you provided a model for it to shape itself into a replica of your own form. Thus, you unwittingly created your own Nemesis.”
Nightmare’s ears drooped. “What is a Nemesis? What does it mean?”
“Your Nemesis is a being that seeks to replace you. It matches all your strengths, knows your weaknesses, and will bends all its efforts toward ending you. You are fortunate that Lucien arrived when he did, and that your Nemesis was still confused from its own creation and easily startled. It will not be so easily deterred the next time you face it.”
She looked up at him. “Is there nothing you can do?”
His face was stone. “Your Nemesis is a product of your own folly, as you disregarded a clear warning. Further, even if I wished to aid you, I cannot change the outcome. You will eventually confront your Nemesis, and you will destroy it, or it will destroy you. This is a matter of Destiny, not of Dreams, and therefore is outside of my purview to intervene.”
Her head hung low again. Morpheus added, “Let this doom hanging over you serve as a reminder, and cease dabbling in what you don’t understand.” With that, he turned and left her to her thoughts.