//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Figments // by Half Awake //------------------------------// It was as if a heavy pack had suddenly been unloaded from her back. The freedom of this dream was a bliss that she wouldn't have the time to enjoy. It would, however, give her an edge. Granite statues of ponies, heroes and respected adversaries long gone welcomed her with lifeless stares. Tattered banners waved lazily on broken columns, and a dusty light filtered in through a ceiling mostly worn away by time and wind. There were things here that didn't belong. Dozens of portraits hung from the stone walls, much too new to have been here originally. Sleeping mares and stallions decorated the hall, a mishmash of different tribes and species. There was even a young drake, curled around its hoard of glimmering gold. The most glaring inconsistency, though, was the enormous mirror at the other end of the hall. Sweetie Belle hadn't ventured far. “Princess, what should we do?” She looked nervous, unwilling to act on her own. The shadow being was trying to drag itself along the length of the room, the clubhouse doorknob an offering in its outstretched hand. Apple Bloom had latched herself to the thing's back. Scootaloo had the creature's oozing tail between her teeth and clung to the floor with what looked like gryphon claws. A good effort, but it was a losing battle. The entire bundle inched steadily toward the massive mirror. This was the creature's destination. Its silver cord, now plainly visible, stretched along the length of a faded red carpet to intersect the shiny surface. Its terminus was held gently in the mirror's reflection by a creature even more alien than the one she'd been chasing. One of its many arms pressed against the other side of the glass, as if trying to reach out and scoop the minion back into its fold. Dark sockets fixed on Luna, scrutinizing, until comprehension dawned and a daggered grin split its pale face. “Oh my, this is a surprise. I almost didn’t recognize you. But then, it has been a long, long time.” The quiet feminine voice was muffled and seemed to issue from the mirror itself, rather than the abomination’s unmoving mouth. Her eyes pivoted to the side as if speaking to someone offstage. “Children, it's time to wake up. Mother needs you.” Luna sneered and stepped defiantly toward the reflection. “Dreamsnatcher. You would challenge me on my home ground? Foalish.” Silver armor materialized around her; it fit just as she remembered. Stone allies stepped from their pedestals to form ranks behind her, a platoon of animate dream-stuff. “Apple Bloom, remove thyself from that creature that I may dispose of it properly.” Luna's horn blossomed into a blue spark as she prepared her spell. The creature in the mirror began to look impatient. “I'm becoming upset, dears. Get up now.” The portraits on the walls had changed. Ponies stood upright or hovered in their frames, looking nervously between imposing princess and eldritch matriarch. A solidly built earth pony standing in a painted field of golden wheat was the first to act, his frown holding a hint of determination. “Sorry, princess.” The stallion poured from his portrait onto the stone floor, where his body took on its marble coloring and dull shine. “No offense.” Around him, others were finding their courage. A brown pegasus blurred from her portrait and clung to the ceiling like an insect. A frail looking yellow unicorn with a gas lamp for a cutie mark took his place behind a pony-turned-timberwolf that had just loped down from a forest scene. Luna grimaced; the Dreamsnatcher’s prowess had improved over the years. Or had it? These ponies were not moving as a single mind. They were all so different – could they be real? Some army of sleeping ponies gathered for an invasion through the dream? “Princess Luna!” Apple Bloom had extracted herself from the dark quadruped, and its oily tail began to slip through Scootaloo's teeth. The creature bucked at her as it struggled down the hall, and the young pegasus finally lost her grip. Luna let fly with her magic, which punched a hole straight through the fiend’s hindquarters. A whole chunk of its flank, including one leg, vanished into a wisp of shadow. The thing didn’t seem to care. It continued to hobble forward, slowed only marginally by the loss of half its hindquarters. Her attention was drawn by a snarl from the timberwolf, which had been slowly circling its way between Luna and the crusaders. Other combatants were advancing haphazardly, each seemingly with their own plan. “Citizens, stand down. I do not wish to—” But her subconscious had other ideas. Sensing danger, the statues behind her charged into battle, stone joints grinding and ancient weapons poised to attack. The aggressive move spurred even the least confident of her opposition to action, and soon the room was a tangle of hooves, weapons and spells. Sweetie Belle, not usually known for her courage, was running toward the shadow minion in order to help her two friends. In a surprisingly smooth motion, her jaws scooped up a ceramic dagger from the floor, likely dropped there by a stone sentinel that hadn't withstood the test of time. It would be a futile attack. That was the last she could see of the three fillies before the enemy closed in. There were too many of them, and she realized with horror that the children she was supposed to be protecting were now in real danger. A opening allowed her a glimpse of the mirror. She fired an attack spell at the Dreamsnatcher, hoping that there might be an easy way to end the battle, but the blue beam reflected harmlessly onto a weathered chunk of wall across the room. The face in the mirror smiled. She needed to get to the source of the problem, but there were too many bodies in the way. This was beyond her. Retreat was no longer an option; not without abandoning the children she was supposed to be protecting. “Cut the cord!” Luna shouted over the din of battle. “Don't let it get to her!” If anypony heard her, she couldn’t hear their response. Luna could no longer avoid direct combat. While none of the opposition could match her physical prowess or skill with magic, there were enough of them to keep her mobility low. As she pivoted for a particularly solid kick, she came muzzle-to-muzzle with a familiar face. It startled her so much that Luna over extended her leg and landed off-balance. “Princess Twilight?” The young lavender unicorn had her tail tucked and seemed terrified that she had earned Luna's attention. Twilight scrunched up her face with effort and flung a small chunk of dislodged masonry before hurrying back into the crowd of combatants. Its impact barely registered. She didn’t have time to dwell on it. Luna’s opponents were trying to keep her away from her flesh and blood allies, and they were doing a frustratingly good job of it. She had no idea how they were communicating strategy, but though they acted as individuals, they showed a unified purpose. It was time for a change in tactics – she began to focus her attacks on breaking through the mob, using her conjured compatriots to guard her flank. There were too many of them. Just as she began to despair of salvaging the situation, the ground shook as a mighty roar tore through the air. All heads turned away from her. Over the crowd a manticore’s face rose, fanged mouth curled upward in a snarl. Luna’s initial panic turned suddenly to mirth as she realized that its coat was just a little bit too orange, and its mane more violet than the traditional reddish brown. She couldn’t help but laugh at her opponents’ terrified faces. “Huzzah!” she shouted as she poured herself back into the battle. The creature took a massive swipe at the mob before it, flinging two ponies and a granite guardian indiscriminately out of the way. Luna renewed her own attack, clearing the distracted combatants, until the line broke and she stood together with the massive beast. There was no time for congratulations. As Luna opened her mouth to direct the monster, another roar came from her left. A second body collided with the manticore, sending both tumbling across the floor and scattering props and ponies alike. The drake had finally decided to leave its portrait and join the fray. They tangled themselves in a flurry of claws, teeth and tails, too intertwined to allow Luna a clear blast. A shriek from Sweetie Belle reminded her that she hadn't been paying attention to her objective. The young filly had made it all the way to the mirror, but was now held tight by the hooves of her own reflection. To her credit, Sweetie Belle still struggled to slash the silver cord, just out of reach, with the long knife in her mouth. The shadow creature, trying to stagger its way forward on three legs, was stretching its gift toward the Dreamsnatcher’s reflection. “Heads up!” Apple Bloom was standing on a pedestal next to a fallen statue of a royal guard. With a kick that would have made her sister proud, Apple Bloom slammed her back hooves into its face. The stone head snapped right off its neck, sailing over the chaos of the battle with the kind of physics that could only exist in a dream. It slammed into the mirror, right in the center of the Dreamsnatcher's scowling face, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the glass. The silver cord snapped, whipping back and forth like an angry snake. With a screeching wail the shadowy creature dispersed into a dark mist, dropping its treasure to the carpeted floor just shy of its destination. Suddenly the room was very quiet. Luna's assembled guards remained, frozen in combat poses, but their opposition had vanished unceremoniously. Or perhaps they hadn’t? Luna wove her way between the statue warriors toward one whose spear was now frozen in mid-thrust. Pierced through the center was a ragged pony doll, coarse fabric stitched with a jagged red thread. Its violet button eyes stared blankly at Luna as sand, bark and dirt poured from the wound just in front of its crudely drawn, star-shaped cutie mark. Behind one ear was a quill whose tip was still stained with dark ink. It wasn’t the only one. Littering the floors and tossed against the walls she could see dozens of small, hoof-made ragdolls. Each one had something unique stitched into it somehow – a shark’s tooth necklace, a tiny nugget of gold as an eye, an old pair of sunglasses missing one lens. A stuffed dragon, shredded beyond repair hung from the mouth of a very pleased looking Scootaloo. The alien being in the mirror gazed down at the clubhouse doorknob, its face seething with frustration. Sweetie Belle was staring nervously at her reflection. Its hooves pounded on the other side of the glass, still trying to reach through the splintered surface toward its prey. “Very disappointed.” With one last angry glance the Dreamsnatcher vanished, dragging Sweetie Belle's reflection with it. The mirror, spidered beyond repair, fell to pieces before them. Time seemed to catch up with the frame, which warped and rusted to scrap before their eyes. Luna took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Sweetie Belle, step away from that thing.” The portraits remained. Luna made a circuit of the room, examining each one in turn. She ran a hoof over the first, but its color, texture and even smell was of ordinary oil paint. She spent an extra moment in front of the painting of a young purple unicorn. The mare looked content, as always, with her muzzle in a book, a familiar looking quill in her mouth and half a page of notes within easy reach. She would need to have a talk with the Princess of Friendship in the morning. “Apple Bloom, if there was a cutie mark for mirror smashing, you'd totally have just earned it.” “Mph, brt” Sweetie Belle spit her inadequate weapon to the ground and glared at Apple Bloom. “But she almost hit me in the head!” “Aw, shucks.” Apple Bloom looked uncomfortable. “Comes from workin' the farm, I suppose.” Luna lifted the discarded doorknob into the air. “Come, you three.” She hovered the trinket toward Apple Bloom. “I believe this belongs to you. It's time to put things back where they belong.”