Dreamweaver
“Ugh, dresses.” Rainbow muttered as she rolled her eyes.
“Oh come now, Rainbow Dash, even dresses can be scary if one goes about them the right way.” Rarity said with a mysterious smirk as she fluffed her mane.
“Ah don’t really see how, Sugar Cube.” Applejack admitted with a small shrug of her shoulders.
“Well then listen up, and I’ll tell you.” Rarity began.
Prada Runway could not believe his eyes. He had in his hooves a letter from the royal palace requisitioning for him to create a dress for the princess herself. His jaw dropped in disbelief. Ever since he opened his Runway Parlor here in Canterlot he never would have dreamed that his designs would be noticed by those living in Canterlot Castle. The cherry red earth pony was beside himself with glee as he dropped the letter and quickly galloped from the mailbox into his house. He had to get ready for the work day and hurry to his business to make sure it opened on time. It was going to be a fantastic day, he was sure of it. He quickly traveled to his place of business and unlocked the front door, heading inside as he started to rummage around in his back room for some designs he had set aside for such fabulous emergencies.
“Hmmmmm, should I go with a velvet Caftan? With some pearl inlay? Or maybe a silk Sun Dress to reinforce her imagery? A ball gown?” He said to himself as he looked through the various designs.
“No no no, something like this needs to be special,” he said as he rubbed his chin with a hoof, pacing back and forth in his office. “Wait a second.” He quickly trotted over to a shelf and started looking through the book titles. “Where is it? Ah! Here it is!” He pulled down a book titled, ‘The History of Dreamweave.’ He set it down on a table and opened it, rifling through the pages. “Yes. Dreamweave is the perfect element for such an exotic demand! But I’ll need to find a unicorn who uses dream magic to help me.” He left the book open and trotted over out the door. A stray draft blew the next page over, revealing a warning for non unicorns trying to use dream magic to acquire Dreamweave.
Night had fallen by the time Prada had tracked down a unicorn rumored to be skilled with dream magic. Carefully the earth pony approached the seemingly run-down building in the outskirts of Canterlot. He was feeling rather nervous as the house didn’t seem to be lit and much of the street he had walked down had been thrown into shadows. Hoofsteps echoed in his ears as he approached the dark blue wooden house and tentatively raised a hoof, bringing it down to knock on the door. The sound of the echoing knocks made him wince. Several minutes passed and he was just about to leave when the door slowly slid open with a high pitched creak, the handle glowing softly with unicorn magic.
“Enter.” A quiet voice echoed within that sent chills down Prada’s spine. Slowly he stepped inside, having to squint as there was even less light in here. Further down the hallway, a light came from a room. He walked down, the floorboards creaking and moaning under his hooves as he stepped. Soon enough he was standing in the doorway of what looked like a kitchen. A unicorn mare was standing over a stove, using her magic to stir something in a pot. The only light in the room came from a lantern that hung from the ceiling, casting an azure tint to everything in the room. Prada was about to say something but then a chair was pulled out for him to sit down on, the unicorn hadn’t even looked at him yet.
“Um, Miss? My name is Pra-” He started when her voice whispered to him in a husky, quiet tone.
“I know who you are. I know why you are here. My name is Madame Fugue. I am the most skilled at dream magic that you will find in Equestria.” The unicorn finally turned around. Her silken mane flowed over the side of her face, covering her right eye. The eccentric markings on her face, drawn in sharp points upon her forehead and under her eyes, were unlike anything Prada had even seen on the runway.
“W-well then. I guess that makes our business very easy to conclude then, yes?” Prada said nervously. The surrounding blue light was starting to give him a headache.
“Are you aware that Dreamweave is mostly acquired by unicorns?” She asked him quietly as she moved to sit down across the table from him. Prada raised a brow. He hadn’t read that warning in the book. He seemed to think it over and then shook his head.
“It’s for the Princess, Madame Fugue, I would do anything for the ability to make her the greatest dress known to ponykind!” He said with a determined stare.
“You do realize that we will be going into your dreams and extracting the substance? If you do it wrong, or take too much it will affect you gravely. There is a reason it is so rare, after all.”
“That’s why I came to an expert. With your knowledge and my fabulous fashion sense it will be simplicity itself!” He said with a confident air and wave of a hoof. Madame Fugue just smiled slowly.
“Very well. If you think you are prepared then I shall come and visit you on Tuesday at your parlor. We should perform the ceremony there so that you can immediately make use of the fabric when you are done. If we let it sit too long, it will dissolve back into your dream world.” Prada nodded and got up, looking very excited.
“Thank you ever so much, Madame Fugue. I don’t know how to thank you.” He said as he turned and quickly left the house with a bounce in his step. Madame Fugue smirked once more as he left.
“Oh... you have already given more than you realize.” She said cryptically, as she went back to her brew on the stove.
Prada was very restless the following weekend, constantly redoing the design for the ideal dress for the princess over and over. Any work that was not his current task was put aside, citing a temporary hiatus while he worked for a very important client. He shunned his friends and work associates as he fervently worked. Everything had to be perfect for when he acquired the Dreamweave for his customer. Tuesday came almost before he was ready, but nonetheless Madame Fugue arrived to a well cleaned shop free of any debris or any other imperfections.
“You did not have to go all out just for little old me.” She said with a small smile on her lips.
“Oh no, it’s no trouble at all. I assure you, you are a most honored guest.” He said with a warm smile, leading her to his workroom. A pair of chairs had been set up next to a table complete with sewing machine and various other odds and ends to be used on the Dreamweave when it was acquired. Madame Fugue chuckled dryly.
“All of this planning, and you don’t even have the most important part yet.” She said in an amused tone. Moving to sit down as she opened her saddlebags and started to levitate some items out. A crystal on a string, an incense burner, a candle, a small gong and what looked like silver shears. She set them down side by side on the table as Prada watched curiously.
“Madame Fugue, what are those for?” He asked.
“These are the tools we will use to fetch the Dreamweave.” She explained, levitating the items up one by one as she revealed their use. “The crystal is to help focus my magic since you are not a unicorn. The incense burner is to help you slip into the dream. The candle is to light your way inside of your dreams. The gong is to help you wake from the dream. And the shears are how you will collect the Dreamstuff to make into the Dreamweave.” She set the final item down and adjusted her hooded cloak, pulling the hood back to show that her hair was a light blue. Her pelt was a light green, only just now visible as it had been difficult to see under the blue light. He nodded eagerly as he squirmed where he was sitting impatiently.
“When can we start?” He asked excitedly.
“When I tell you how you are to collect the Dreamstuff. It is no simple task, even if you were another unicorn. First I will put you to sleep, once you are fully asleep I will then transpose the items you need into the dream. Then you will travel your own mind until you find a pleasant memory or fantasy you wish the Dreamweave to invoke. Then you will use the shears to carefully harvest some of it. You must be careful not to take too much or the consequences could be dire. There will be a conversion when you come to the real world. So we shall have to do this a few times in order to get enough Dreamstuff for a full dress. Especially for one as large as the Princess.”
“Okay, anything else we have to go over before we start?”
“Yes. You will be inside your own dream. So you must remember, any bad thoughts or negative feelings can potentially harm you. You must be careful and be mindful of the fact that it is your dream. Do not ever forget that you are dreaming and have control.” She was talking very sternly as if she was accustomed to telling ponies who didn’t listen..
“I understand. Shall we begin?” He asked, eager to get his hooves on some of the fabled fabric of fashion. Madame Fugue sighed slightly.
“So eager. Well we shall see how eager you are after the first half hour or so.” She said as she levitated the various items closer to him and started to set them up. The crystal shard was hung around his neck. The incense burner was settled right next to him along with the shears. The gong was placed next to her so she could ring it easily. The candle was attached to a brass candle holder which he held in his mouth. He looked uncomfortable holding the object.
“Is this necessary Madame?” He asked around the candle.
She gave a wry chuckle. “It is indeed. You must be holding it when the spell starts so that your subconscious will know you have it. It is very complicated to fully explain. Just trust me.” A match was produced and scratched along the table to produce a flame which then lit the incense burner. “Breathe deep the fumes, and know that anytime you smell this scent in your dream, you are in a safe place. If you get lost within your dreams, try to follow your nose until you smell this scent again.”
“This is very complicated, far more so than I had originally anticipated.” Prada said with a small sigh, holding the candle as still as possible. The unicorn closed her eyes as her horn illuminated with a deep blue glow which slowly started to fill the room. Prada did as he was told and started breathing in the scent of the burner deeply. He could feel his eyelids growing heavier with each breath, finally closing them one last time.
“Why yes that is a lovely hat you are wearing, my dear.” Prada exclaimed as he himself was dressed in his finest garments, speaking with some fashionista pony who had come to Canterlot from some little suburb down the mountain. He couldn’t recall her name, the fashion pony merely knew that this was somepony everypony should know, “If you’ll excuse me, Madame.” He said with a bow as he turned and walked over to another famous pony. Hoity Toity seemed to be examining one of the gentlecolt’s suits that was on display at his studio, where he and the creme de la creme of Canterlot society were attending and gawking and complimenting his styles quite eagerly.
“Is everything to your liking, Sir?” Prada asked with an eager look in his eyes. The snobbish pony seemed to take great pleasure in agonizingly taking his time in answering the question. Finally, he gave a singular nod. The clothing had passed his approval. Prada smiled broadly, bouncing in place as several technicolored sheep floated by. Prada blinked and stared for a few minutes, then he facehoofed. “Right! I’m dreaming. Sigh, it figures.” He said with a shake of his head. He looked down at his outfit as it dissolved away, revealing the crystal, the candle and the shears hung around his neck on some kind of tool kit. He glanced around slowly. “Okay, this dream is nice and all, but hardly something worthy for the Princess to wear. I need to try and think of how to move through my own dreams. This part must be way easier for a unicorn.” He trotted over to a door that seemed to be made out of caramel and covered with glitter. “Well this certainly seems like a dream door.” He joked, nudging the door open as for a brief moment his world went dark.
After what felt like hours his candle flickered to life, casting a bubble of visibility around him in the vast emptiness. What the light revealed was a room in a house, a very familiar house. The air felt heavy and reeked of something he could only describe as sadness. The walls were blue and seemed to be dripping some clear fluid. The window next to the door was foggy and the outside could only be seen as a hazy caricature of some town. He frowned, taking a tentative step forward as he carefully inspected the room. “Why do I feel like I’ve been here before?” He asked himself. An ear perked as he heard somepony sobbing. He turned to follow the sound. As he moved, the bubble of reality moved with him, anything outside of its radius seemed to just vanish into nothingness. Stairs came into view and he started climbing, following the sound. He instinctively avoided a step, then looked down at it, wondering why he had done that. A hoof was placed down on it and it wobbled, it was loose. “How did I know it was loose?” Confusion had seeped in and fully taken a hold on the young fashionista. “Come to think of it. That crying is familiar too.” He came to a second story of the building after what seemed like hours of walking. A door hovered into view in the candlelight, standing large and tall, much taller than any normal door has a right to be. Prada looked down at himself and was surprised to see that he was suddenly much younger. Realization struck him, “This was our old house when I was a colt!” He looked at the door, slowly backing away as fear gripped his heart. “No.....I can’t.....” He turned and ran from the door, the stairs and everything else fading into darkness as the candle went out.
Eventually, he came out into a wide, open field. Butterflies and birds frolicked about as the sun shone down beautifully through the clouds up in the sky. Prada was awestruck, staring with wide eyes at the panorama before him. A brook was babbling nearby as fish jumped about. Antelope pranced among tall leaves of grass as bunnies and squirrels scampered along flower beds. A shake of his head brought him to his senses. “Woah! This, this is perfect to represent the Sun Princess!” He scrambled around for his shears and just kind of stared at them, how was he supposed to use them? He looked at his hoof, then the shears, then his hoof again. Finally, he concentrated, and the shears seemed to stick to his hoof and open and close when he thought about it. “Alright.” He nodded to himself as he looked at the scene. “But, where do I start cutting?” the earth pony sighed heavily, regretting not having read more of the book. The scissors were waved here and there to see if any resistance was met. Finally, they were placed against the ground and he started cutting. Instead of grass and flowers, the scene seemed to split down the middle, leaving a gaping jagged hole of blackness in between. Encouraged, he started shearing as much as he could, gathering up the ‘folds’ of the fabric and piling them on his back as he cut. A faint chiming sound snapped him out of his work. It came again, much louder this time. The world around him shaking as one final, much louder gong finally caused him to snap awake, the candle falling from his mouth as he looked around his parlor in confusion.
“Zuh? Huh? Whuh?” It took him several minutes to finally focus and remember what he was doing. His back felt heavy so he turned and looked at the incandescent material on it. With an excited bounce he quickly turned it to the sewing machine and started to work it through, transforming it from ethereal dreamstuff into actual fabric, one that shifted as light played across its surface. Madame Fugue, meanwhile was working on gathering her supplies before moving to stand.
“Wait!” He called out from his workstation. “You can’t go yet! This isn’t enough!”
The unicorn sighed and shook her head. “I believe I said it would take more than one trip, did I not? This procedure is dangerous and it would not do you any good in getting all the material you need if you suddenly went mad or refused to wake up, now would it?” She smiled slightly, “I shall be back next week when you have had a chance to ground yourself in reality, then we can continue.” She said as she trotted out of the door with her supplies.
Prada sighed, going about with the fabric he did have as he went to put it up. He stifled a yawn as he looked around the parlor.
“Well, I guess I’d better get to cleaning up then.” He said to himself, picking up a broom and getting to work on making the place look nice. A song was hummed as he worked. “My little hmm-hmm, my little hmm-hmm.” The song made him feel a lot better about his situation. He wanted to go back and get it all right away. The sweeping slowed down as the earth pony started to nod off standing up.
He was awoken with a start as he heard a rooster crow, rubbing his eyes with a hoof as he looked around the farmhouse. The sound of hoofsteps above him signaled that his father and mother were already awake and going about their business in getting the rest of the family up. Prada eagerly got out of bed and threw on some overalls as he headed for the door. He stopped.
“Wait a minute,” He closed his eyes and rubbed at them again. “I’m dreaming, I moved out of the farm when I became a teenager.” He frowned deeply, tapping his chin with a hoof. “What am I doing here? I’m not using dream magic. I must have fallen asleep while sweeping.” He glanced down at himself, noticing that he had the shears, candle, and crystal on. “Didn’t I?” He said in confusion. The scenery dimmed again as he questioned this realization, showing darkness again as the candle lit up and created a bubble of existence like last time. The farmhouse became visible, but this time the walls were blue with liquid streaming down them and now instead of hoofsteps, he could hear sobbing coming from upstairs. Fear once more gripped his heart. “No! I have to leave!” No sooner had he said that then he heard large, thundering hoofsteps above him that caused the ceiling to shake. He quickly galloped to a door and pushed it open, stepping out of the house and into total darkness again. There was no sight, no sound, no scent, nothing to indicate he was anywhere or anywhen. Fear persuaded him to continue galloping even though his hooves weren’t making a sound on the space below him. He had to run, he had to get away from the door on the second floor. He kept running, running, and running, until finally, he felt the ground drop out beneath him. He screamed as he fell for what seemed like forever. Just as the ground became visible and came rushing up to greet him, he woke up, hitting the floor of his parlor hard. Wincing heavily, he picked himself up and looked around. It was nighttime now, but he was awake, sore, but awake.
“I was, daydreaming?” He said as he took in deep breaths of air, having felt like he had been suffocated while in the dream. He could smell the familiar smell of incense and looked towards the burner. Not seeing anything there, he frowned deeply. “I’ve never had a daydream so intense.” The earth pony finally picked himself up and limped off to bed to get some nice, dreamless sleep.
The next morning brought a new day free of the fears he felt the previous night. Rolling out of bed, he trotted into the bathroom to get washed up for the day with a nice, long bath. Upon opening the bathroom door, he was struck by something strange. The bathroom was upside down. The toilet, tub, and sink were all hanging from the ceiling. Prada rubbed his eyes in disbelief, and when he opened them, the bathroom was normal again.
“I must be losing my mind.” He said quietly to himself as he slipped inside and turned on the faucet, the room filling with steam. Prada started splashing cold water on his face in the sink. Raising his head, he gasped at what he saw written on the mirror.
The Dream Isn’t Over Yet.
He backed away from the mirror, slipping and falling into the tub. Sinking into the water he could see the surface going higher and higher above him, as if the tub had become a well with an endless bottom. He did his best to try and swim but he felt like his limbs were paralyzed. As he fought to hold in his breath, he could feel himself starting to slip away from the lack of oxygen. Just as he was about to completely black out, he felt strong hooves wrap around him and pull him sputtering and coughing from the water. Looking up into the face of a kindly mare with a worried look on her face.
“Prada Leggington Runway, what did I tell you about playing near the well?” Her stern voice asked on the brim of tears. “If I hadn’t seen you fall in I wouldn’t have been able to save you.” Prada looked behind him weakly at the well. He was in the backyard of the farm he had grown up in. He spat out some more water as he noticed he was again a young colt, being hugged and squeezed by his mother.
“M, Momma?” He managed to get out with a strained breath. The mare smiled with tears rolling down her cheeks as she kissed Prada’s forehead and hugged him tight.
“Your Poppa’s going to be steamed when he gets home.” Darkness swept across the field of his memories at the mere mention of the figure known as Poppa. The house turned old and crumbling before his eyes as his mother seemed to age, sporting a lean, withered look as if not having been eating properly. Prada gave a horrified scream as he woke up on the floor of his bathroom. The floor was damp from the tub overflowing and spreading across the linoleum.
He pounded on the door to Madame Fugue’s house anxiously, panic evident in his every movement. Upon receiving no answer, he turned around and bucked the door in hard, quickly trotting into the dimly lit dwelling. Prada wandered through the hallways until he spotted the door to the kitchen. When he trotted inside the blue light flared up, revealing that instead of the kitchen, he was now in some kind of bedroom. A large four post bed veiled with translucent curtains rested on the far side. The walls were lined with mirrors, as was the ceiling. Various candles and lamps pulsed with a dull blue haze. As the earth pony tentatively entered the room, movement could be detected from the bed. A figure slowly rose and pushed against the curtains, a heavy sigh echoing across the room as the curtains rolled back as if by magic. The mare that stepped out was none other than Madame Fugue, clad in a scanty number with sequins and lace everywhere.
“Mmmm so good of you to come to me at last.” echoed her sensuous voice, tugging Prada closer against his will. “I have been most, eager.” She gave a little cooing noise as she brushed her own hooves against her well-toned body provocatively. Prada found himself stepping ever closer as his eyes widened and his brain shut down. The only thing he could focus on was the mare before him. His nostrils were filled with the comforting scent of the incense, his stomach full of butterflies as he took one hesitant step after the other. He drew close to her, his mouth parting as he puckered up his lips.
“Prada? Wake up!” Came her voice in a sudden boom accompanied by a gong sound. Prada jumped where he was standing, mere inches from a very surprised Madame Fugue inside her kitchen. His lips mere centimeters from her face. Prada sputtered as he quickly backed off, awkwardly crossing his hind legs as he shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs.
“It would seem you are experiencing some trouble.” She said, nonplussed as she set the gong down then turned back to what she was doing.
“Sh..shut up! You’re the one doing this to me!” He spat out, getting himself under control, anger rising in his voice. “Break whatever spell you put on me that’s causing these, these, daydreams to happen!” A hoof came down with force on the tile floor to emphasize his point.
“This is happening beca-” She began, but was cut off when Prada moved towards her and slammed a hoof down on the table as he went past it, putting his hooves on her shoulders as he turned her to look at him.
“NO! No lies! You’re the only unicorn who can use dream magic, and you’re doing something to me!” He said as he shook her frantically. She frowned in response and said nothing, staring at him harshly.
“Begone, I will not stop this, not after your baseless accusations.” Her voice was cold as she fixed him with an icy stare. “Leave my sight!” She commanded with a dramatic point of her hoof. The stallion felt the urge to do what she said, backing away slowly as the sharp look in her eyes filled his heart with fear. Soon enough, he was gone, leaving her to her work in peace.
The street was dimly lit and full of shadows. Prada looked this way and that as he struggled to remember where his home was. He had to get home, work wasn’t safe, Fugue wasn’t safe. The idea of sleep terrified him, if he was having these visions while awake how much worse would it be when he actively sought to slumber? The door to his house came into view, he didn’t know how much time had passed since he started this trip through his dreams for the Dreamweave. Prada just knew he wanted to get to the end so he could go back to his life. His hoofsteps echoed as he started up the stairs to his front door, staring at the ground as he walked. Eventually he realized he had been walking for over ten minutes and still had not yet reached his home, he turned his head up with a start, seeing a familiar door at the apex of his path. Once more fear and the cold gripped his heart as he felt his hooves falter. As he began to turn away, he paused.
“No.” He said simply, “This is the cause, something about this memory keeps calling back to me. That is why I can’t leave this dream. I have been running from this memory ever since I was a foal. I can’t even believe I had forgotten about my mother and the old farm. I tried so hard to live the fancy life here in Canterlot that I forgot my roots.” He solemnly turned towards the door. “I’m through with running, I need to face this fear and get over it.” He started up the steps, determination burning in his eyes as he neared the door just as the sobbing started again. Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths before a hoof was raised and pushed against the door. As the door opened to total darkness, he steeled himself and stepped inside. The candle sparked to life once more, this time slowly filling up the entire room with visibility, revealing a typical bedroom in a farmhouse. The paint on the walls was blue and peeling with age, the bed was perfectly made, as if its owner was a clean and fastidious sort. The wardrobe was an antique much like the rest of the furnishings, covered with pictures and dolls that belonged to his mother. That’s right, he remembered now, this was his mother’s room. His head turned towards the sound of the sobbing, finally focusing on the source. The elderly mare was sitting in a chair, holding something in her hooves, tears rolling down her cheeks as she constantly had to raise a towel to wipe at her face. Her hooves were dirt-stained, signs of a hardworking pony, her apron was muddy and tear-stained. The mess that was her mane was brightly colored, bright yellow with orange stripes scattered throughout it. The cutie mark was hidden behind her sun dress she wore over her light green furred form. The object in her hooves was a small picture, depicting a pair of young foals standing next to each other and smiling at the camera. One filly and one colt. Prada recognized the picture. It was a picture of Prada and Svelte, both children who grew up on the farm. His mother softly touched the picture with a hoof.
“Poor Svelte, I couldn’t save you.” She whispered softly, voice heavy with sorrow. “I caught Prada but I didn’t know you had fallen in too till it was too late.” Prada’s eyes widened as he heard this. He had a sister, why had he forgotten about her until just now? “You always wanted to make the fanciest dresses for other ponies to wear. After you died, Prada just wasn’t the same. He took your dream and ran with it, even against his own wants. He wanted to keep you alive in spirit.” Her words were remorseful as she talked to herself. “Poppa couldn’t take it after you’d died. He worked himself to death. Now it’s just me and Prada. Soon it’ll just be Prada, I’m sorry, honey. I can’t take it anymore. I’m coming to see you soon.” Her words whispered loudly in the air as she closed her eyes and the dream slowly started to fade. Prada awoke with a jerk in front of the door to his house. His face wet with tears as all of the dream came flooding back to him.
“By Celestia, how could I have forgotten!? I was so caught up with work, I lost sight of why I was even doing it.” He hung his head low as he looked at his hooves in dismay. “I’m so sorry, sister, mother, father, I forgot about you all so I could run from the truth.” The door in front of him was unlocked as he entered inside. Head hung low with sorrow as he relived all of those past memories that had haunted his youth. He sat down on his bed and breathed a sigh of relief, having a good feeling that now that he had faced and accepted the bad memory that he could finally get a good night’s sleep. The last thing he muttered as his eyes slipped shut was...
“I’m coming to see you, Svelte.”
The group was quiet as Rarity finished her story, neither pony in a hurry to say anything as they all seemed caught up in their own personal memories or pasts. Finally, Twilight cleared her throat.
“Wow, Rarity, that was quite a story. But, did it have to have such a sad ending?” She said with a small pout.
“Twilight, dear, these are scary stories. And you can not be complaining about my ending when Pinkie’s actually gave me gray hairs, I am certain.” Twilight laughed a bit nervously.
“You know,” began Rainbow, “Telling us a story about dreams at a sleepover party seems kind of not helping to the sleep part. Also, that story wasn’t really about scary dresses.” She said with a nervous smile. Fluttershy was simply hiding in her sleeping bag again.
“Ah liked it.” AJ mentioned bluntly.
“Well thank you, Applejack.” Rarity said with a nod. Looking towards Twilight. “Well my dears, we have saved the best for last. It is time for you to wow us all.”
Twilight smiled nervously as her eyes darted back and forth. “Well, okay, I’m sure I have one that will scare you all.” She cleared her throat, her eyes closing as she called to mind one such tale.