//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Figments // by Half Awake //------------------------------// It was a fairly good replica of the real clubhouse that, if Luna remembered correctly, sat somewhere off in one of the Apple Family's vast orchards. Even the small details were excellent: The trees swayed and had individual leaves, and the scent of apple blossoms was mild and pleasant. Clearly this was the construct of a mind with at least a few years of exposure to the real thing. Apple Bloom's dream, then. The trail of degenerated dream-bits had led her across six minds so far. This wasn't the after-effect of some current event – like the month after Tirek's rampage when she nearly ran herself ragged containing the horrible nightmares of her little ponies. The most Equestria-shattering catastrophe of the past week or so was when a weather-team mix-up caused the Ponyville Pet Picnic to be rained out. And even Fluttershy had stopped worrying about that by now. None of those she had encountered tonight seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Most had been absorbed in some fantasy or another, or their minds had been sifting through the events of the day. Her intruder was something slippery, but the trail was getting warmer. She was almost certain it was still within this dream, and Luna had no desire to spook her quarry now that she was so close. Observing without being seen meant blending into the background. Had it been nighttime, the moon would have worked nicely, and would have given her a fantastic vantage point. Unfortunately, Luna noted with a frown, the sun was out in Apple Bloom's dream. Typical. Through the heart-shaped window in the treehouse door she could see its three regulars. She quickly scanned the room for something that she could use as a hiding place. Preferably something with a face, some sort of prop that the cast of this little scene would be unlikely to interact with. Her eyes landed on the picture of Rainbow Dash hanging against the clubhouse's back wall. It would do. Luna closed her eyes and took a step forward. When she blinked them open again, Luna had an excellent view of the clubhouse interior. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were gazing dumbfounded at Scootaloo. The young pegasus was hovering near the podium, bobbing up and down to a lazy wingbeat. Apple Bloom was the first to recover her wits. “What? When?” From the face she was making, the gears in her head had started to turn and excitement was being replaced by skepticism. Red eyes darted between the pegasus' stubby wings and exasperated face. “How? I mean, I'm happy for you an' all, but—” Scootaloo didn't bother to stifle her groan. “It's a dream, genius. Do we really have to go over this every single night?” Apple Bloom's face fell. “Oh, right. A dream.” She plopped down on her haunches and glanced at Sweetie Belle, whose mouth was still agape. A jab in the flank failed to rouse the third Crusader from her stupor. “Well that's weird.” “What's wrong with her?” Scootaloo leveled a hoof at the white filly. “Hey. I said it's a dream! You're kind of creeping me out.” After a couple more pokes for good measure, Apple Bloom shrugged. “Maybe she's not real?” As if on cue, racing hoofsteps scraped to a halt just outside and the door burst open to reveal what was presumably the real Sweetie Belle. A brown paper bag caught in her greenish grip followed her into the door frame. “Hi girls! I brought breakf— what is that?” Her magic faltered as Sweetie Belle beheld her doppelganger. No longer sustained by the belief of the other two, its still-incredulous face was sagging earthward toward a melting white flank. “Answers that question.” Apple Bloom muttered. “Hey Sweetie Belle. Just ignore this thing.” When Sweetie Belle continued to stare, she tried again. “Look, we can throw a sheet over it or something if it's botherin' you.” This was getting Luna nowhere. The intruder was either expertly hidden, or knew these three well enough to disguise itself convincingly. It was time for a more direct approach. While the three fillies were otherwise occupied, she extracted herself from the portrait and stepped up to the podium as if she'd been there all along. Scootaloo grinned. “Maybe our brains just made up a more lifelike Sweetie Belle because the other one was-” Luna cleared her throat and cut the jab short; their various squeals and squeaks of surprise let her take inventory of their reactions. A wide-eyed Sweetie Belle who had not yet recovered from her previous shock sat trying to process it all. Apple Bloom, a little paler than usual, had perked up a little bit at the Princess' arrival. Scootaloo had dropped to the ground, looking as if she'd just been caught with her hoof in the proverbial cookie jar. She let a moment pass in silence. “Would one of you tell me whose dream this is?” Sweetie Belle mouthed an “Oh” as understanding dawned. Scootaloo, looking markedly less guilty now, slowly pointed a hoof at Apple Bloom, who swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. “I see. In that case, would you both explain what it is, exactly, that you're doing here?” Her gaze shifted smoothly between Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. The former was chewing her lip, and from her squinty expression looked to be genuinely searching her memory for the answer. Luna had seen Scootaloo's panicked expression on enough foals to know that she was wracking her brain for a response that wouldn't get her in trouble. It took a moment for Apple Bloom to catch up. “Wait a minute. How do y'all know this is my dream?” Her forelegs wrapped around her head, confused, or maybe dizzy. Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Well there aren't that many doors that smell like Apple.” Luna arched an eyebrow and then filed this one away to think about later. Sweetie Belle perked up suddenly. “The window! For me it was the window. I was at Sugarcube Corner – they had a special on croissants.” She gazed back longingly toward the abandoned baked goods that were starting to melt into goop. “The window was open, and I could see Sweet Apple Acres through it, so I went that way.” Scootaloo was having trouble keeping her face straight. “What? It made sense at the time.” Luna, now seated, surveyed the distracted fillies. Which one was a liar? Apple Bloom was staring at her hooves and hadn't said much, but this was clearly her dream. Hijacking was possible, but produced constant imperfections as the dreamer's mind tried to reassert itself. Scootaloo had always shown an aptitude for lucid dreaming, so her behavior was not unexpected. Sweetie Belle had arrived late, well after her prey had entered this dream. She tapped a hoof on the wobbly stand, contemplating. Melty Belle was the out-of-place element. Shouldn't it have vanished by now, since the Crusaders were focused on each other? Or was it memorable enough to stick around? She leaned in, eyes narrowed at the expanding puddle-pony. “Hey, are you okay, Apple Bloom?” The real Sweetie Belle had been trading verbal jabs with Scootaloo, but their banter quieted when it became obvious that their friend was, perhaps, having a serious problem. Apple Bloom looked up at Sweetie Belle, opened her mouth to answer, and then threw up on the clubhouse floor. The entire setting lurched sickeningly to the right. “Ew!” Sweetie Belle looked like she might be sick herself. Luna ignored the mess and scanned the clubhouse for anything that looked out of place. If she didn’t find it soon, Apple Bloom would wake up and the dream would dissolve. Her hooves trembled in frustration. No, not her hooves. The podium was vibrating ever so slightly. Past her forelegs, she could see decay spreading from the base of the stand, encroaching on her sitting space. It was all she could do not to let the queasiness she suddenly felt show on her face. Instead, she stood up and took a casual step to the side. “Girls.” Luna's word was loud enough to cut through panicked chatter, and all eyes snapped back to her. “It's unwise to stay in a pony's dream when they are ill. I suggest that you all return the way you came, or wake up now. Apple Bloom, it might be a good idea for you to get some fresh air.” They needed to be out of this clubhouse. Unfortunately, her quarry saw through the ploy. Where a moment ago had stood a piece of furniture, there was now something else. Quadruped, but not at all equine. Made of living shadow, its wispy essence trailed as if blown by a breeze that she couldn't feel. And there, if she looked very carefully, a silver strand leading away. Luna's curiosity got the better of her for just a moment. “What are you?” It was all she could get out before the room erupted into a Cutie Mark Crusader panic. The three fillies each ran in different directions, and the shifty-looking shade used the confusion as cover as it edged its way toward the door. Entirely out of control. Unacceptable. Luna drew herself up to her full height and then some, her chest expanding as she drew in a deep breath. “SILENCE!” The echo that followed wasn't actually possible given the local geography. All movement ceased, the Crusaders backed into one corner and this new creature the center of attention. She stepped forward into a stance of royal authority, her gaze warning against disobedience. “You are trespassing in an Equestrian citizen. Identify yourself.” The thing gave no indication that it was about to spring. No tensed muscles, no hiss. It just streaked straight toward the door, which immediately slammed shut in an envelope of blue magic. The streak splattered against the wooden paneling, and Luna raised a foreleg to shield her face against the oncoming droplets. The creature rose out of the stain, back legs braced against the door frame, wrenching at the door knob. “That's not going to work.” Luna advanced on the creature as it struggled. Between the two of them, her control of the environment was clearly superior. The creature could still be a danger to the others – removing it from this location was the priority. “You will come with me, now. Cease your resistance and you will be treated fairly.” The glow around her horn intensified as she prepared to cast another spell. The thing on the door ignored her. It gave one final yank and the doorknob itself came loose of its metal anchors, leaving behind a blackened, sickly space where something was clearly missing. Triumphantly it kicked off from the wall, straight across CMC headquarters toward the window on the far side. “Stop! Halt!” The window didn't shut in time. Luna was already in motion as the creature vanished across the threshold in a flash of light. She dove, wings tucked, toward the oak frame. It expanded to accommodate her as if it was made of rubber, and Sweet Apple Acres vanished.