//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 // Story: The Dream of Many // by WiseFireCracker //------------------------------// With one last panting grunt, I pushed through the wall of squelching flesh and climbed over the giant green scales. Buzzing softly, my laser chainsaw slid down the slope of the Serpent's body, only to disintegrate midway through. It was just as well, I couldn't really hold on to it any longer. “Sweet... sweet... freedom,” I gasped, lying on my back, taking every breath as if it had been my last. Not every day you fought your way out of a digestive track with only a laser chainsaw and your courage. I wouldn't even be appreciative if it happened once a decade. I had had my fill of guts and desperate struggling through pulsing pink flesh. I'd reckon Pond and her brother thought the same. These two were climbing out of the wound by now, Pond pulling her brother up with both front legs. It was only natural, seeing as she was the fisherpony and she swam better. Except... we weren't underwater, I suddenly realized. Startled, I rolled off my back and stood, my eyes over the edge of the coils. I would only need to stretch my hoof to touch the clouds. How high did the Serpent's coils rise? I simply had to look. And before me, across the endless ocean, I saw. I saw the water obscured from the web of coils. I saw the Serpent's tail batting at a net of light and freeing itself. I saw the dream obscured and, with a skip of my heart, I saw the next big thing to threaten our newfound freedom. “Giant coil alert at five o'clock!” My choice of words had been poor, admittedly. “What?” the siblings asked, blinking. No more time, I thought as I charged. “JUMP!” Had we been awake, the pain would have rung through my wings and my barrel, right on the spot where I had tackled the two. Had, if, should... all hypothetical and very intangible compared to the vast emptiness below my hooves. Even with the eyes of a fake alicorn, the Serpent's body could look as small as pieces of string from this high up above. Or as immense as the flank of a mountain looming right above us. Both sides of the Serpent collided with an ear-splitting crash, close enough for the rush of wind to nearly shake Small Pond out of my grip. Nearly, but both Small Fry and I swung ours hooves around to catch her and keep her with us. “We're gonna land!” I told them, aiming for a slowly moving coil a few leagues below. We landed without much trouble, my glide slow enough for them both to walk off of me. Still, the relief I expected didn't come. Our eyes were stuck on the giant walls of scales that had crashed into each other, as if they would give chase and try to squish us like bugs. They didn't. “So... we nearly got crushed to death... again. But we're good!” I laughed. Whoa, that got the blood pumping for sure. Nothing quite like a sudden brush with death to wake up a man. Hypothetically speaking. Not that my amenable companions shared my totally normal good cheer. “I hate you.” Fry growled. “And everypony like you, but especially that fat snake.” Fat was an understatement. Disproportionate would have been one too. It seemed to occupy half the scenery with its ever moving body. One jerk of a coil created explosive sounds, as if the sound barrier strained to hold the titan back. And failed. The Serpent ravaged to its heart's content. Its outstretched neck would fling across the sky, one large column of shadows. Its fangs would rip into empty air, just barely missing a fast moving blue dot. But sometimes, sometimes the Serpent would keep its mouth close over a spot and pull with all its strength. And the horizon would let out a chilling ripping sound, like fabric torn apart by careless hands. Threads of light wove into the rifts, sealing them shut. They glowed once, a faint shade of purple, before settling down as stitches in the sky. The Serpent's sudden hissing hinted at their usefulness. And yet, the cold felt well and truly stuck in my chest. Luna held the sky together, yes. How long would she be able to, with the Serpent trashing and chewing the fabric of Small Pond's dreams? Small Pond... I shot a worried look to the mare. How well was she holding up for now? She was breathing a bit hard, her mane was half-covering her face, but she shot me a tired smile when she noticed my concern. A small part of me wanted to shiver, and my tail flicked to the side in a nervous gesture that I knew came from Granny. No matter. The golden light still sparked around Small Pond, though the most uncomfortable presentiment was growing in my guts. It couldn't last for much longer, could it? My gaze eyes darted to my right, to the fight of titans. It hasn't noticed us yet. But it would, eventually, it would sniff out Small Pond's energy again. It would be inevitably drawn to her. And that time, we wouldn't get a second chance to escape. The Serpent let out an unearthly roar, so far that we only caught its echo. But my legs locked into place when the scales under us brushed against the sole of my hooves. Oh fuck... “Hold on to me!” I called out, and when they didn't immediately obeyed, my voice snapped like a whip. “Did I fucking stutter, guys?! To me, now!” Two hooves, both rough though different, grasped at my stretched wings. The next moment, the scales beneath us rose with the jerk of the Serpent's body. Pressure shoved the sole of my hooves upward, my joints creaking from the strain. I flattened. The acceleration had been so brutal it felt as if I had been thrown chest first onto a brick wall. Stars and black spots blinked in and out of my sight. A mare was screaming in my ears. Someone was pulling on the primary feathers in my wings. We were sailing through the air, underneath arches of green or white scales, above furious waves. And then, we were beneath. In cold, dark green. In a curtain of bubbles, floating to the surface. The others were already swimming upward, toward the flashes of light, away from the great twirls of darkness that I knew to be the Serpent's body. For a heartsplitting second, I remembered the yellow eyes across the blue, and twisted my neck around to send frantic looks to the depths. I found myself hovering above the water, wings flapping slow, and I did not remember how it happened. Small Fry's head popped out of the sea's surface with a loud, needy gasp. “I never want to be this covered in blood and guts ever again.” Next to him, floating to the waves, her forelegs grabbing onto a large plank of wood, Small Pond aimed a skeptical look his way. “You fillet the catch of the day yourself. Remember?” “Shut up, Puddle. I'll use magic.” I stifled a snort at Small Pond's grumbled “You already do.” For somepony who had been so terrified of leaving him on his own, she sure didn't have a problem cutting him down to size. Still, there were a few bigger fishes to fry – I'm a genius –, so I lifted both ponies in a cloud of red light and landed on the plank. From my hooves, a spark spread on the wood, and the plank twisted. Its ends stretched, its belly thickened. Inches from me, a pole sprouted and let go of a large white sail. In moments, our boat was ready, and my companions were freed from my grip. They fell on their rumps with twin yelps of shock. And they cried once more when the surface of the water next to us burst and a tall shadow rocketed through. For a split second, I feared the Serpent had detected us, but the figure was much too small, and its tail slapped aside the droplets of water. The fish's leap showed us its white belly, in contrast to its navy blue back and head. Its movement held a certain grace, a deadly kind of grace. Its sword-like nose gleamed with the promise to skewer us. It was not to be. The fish' corpse exploded into a cloud of dust, right against the tip of my glowing horn. Unseen power shielded my eyes from the particles. Wouldn't do to be blinded in the middle of this madness. “You wanted to know why I chose to become an alicorn in my dream?” I turned to give the siblings a knowing smile. “This is why: power. I am in control here. It doesn't matter who challenges me, my will shall never break. I can do anything! Dreamon? Alicorn? There are no differences between the two here!” And, as I said it, I stomped both my front hooves into the boat's deck. A shockwave rippled from the tip of my hooves, into the air, and my will carried on. Winds swirled at the tip of my horn. Howling screeches rode atop the air currents, lightning crackled. Power pumped into the vortex with each pulse of my blood. There was a flash. The boat's deck stabilized. The waves no longer rocked it to their chaotic rhythm. We could not even hear the splashes of water against its hull. I'd cut us off from the rest of the world. My power encased our embarkation with a bright red hue. “The sea obeys my command, the sky lighten at my order. You two are protected, because I want you safe.” Smug, I knocked a hoof into the shimmering bubble keeping our boat stable. “Can you imagine a greater rush than this?” Small Pond smirked. “Well...” I turned on her in mock outrage, ready for a nonsensical argument about my very normal megalomania. The first word didn't even make it past my lips. They were otherwise occupied. For a split second, my mind flashed to Harpoon, Granny Orchid's husband. My body seemed flooded by the familiar sensation, by the warmth and the jolts of electricity going up to my brain. Small Pond... Small Pond was kissing me! Old instincts took over my mind, and I leaned against her, leaned into her kiss. She tasted of spice and salt, a delight, I found myself thinking. Not a thing of sweetness, but a kick, a push for a greater wildness. Small Pond broke us apart first, breathless. A pretty coral red lit up her face, her glance to me bashful, and hopeful. She... She actually liked me this way. This wasn't a fever dream. “Oh...” There was a whoosh of air. And my face became as if lit on fire. The siblings looked at me with tilted heads and curious eyes. “Why did his wings do that?” asked Small Pond. Her brother narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “No idea,” he said slowly. Good news, wingboners are not actually canon! Bad news, I have a wingboner anyway. From the way Small Fry's gaze darkened, I would say he was guessing the source of my obvious unease. He stepped closer to his sister, with a clear warning to me in his protective stance. Considering she had initiated, it may not have been the right way to go about it. But then again, Small Fry was glaring at my wings. If only the metaphor hadn't been so obvious. Down, you stupid wings. I scowled at the offending appendages. Stop being cliché about this! I don't need to flash the whole world with my interest! “Ah... hehe...” I chuckled, scratching at the back of my head, drops of sweat rolling on my neck. “Why, huh, I guess it was a bigger rush.” Of blood. To certain parts of my anatomy. Small Pond's head tilted aside, her eyes drifting to my wings, and then dipping a little lower, and for the love of God, I had never wished for a distraction as badly as this. Ever. So, it stood to reason that I felt the air shift and the sparks tingle at the ends of my feathers. I take it back! Stupid is better than death! I shouted mentally, but Small Pond and her brother had decided to look up, as if they had felt the presence too. Through the barrages of storm clouds and lightning strikes, large shadows broke through the canopy of the sky. Though rather indistinct from afar, the creature's tail dipped beneath the cloud line and we got a glimpse of a multicoloured fin. Others dipped lower, enough for their ivory underbelly to contrast with the darkened storm clouds. Their swimming continued uninterrupted, defiant of the total chaos beneath them. It lasted a few seconds at most, but it left me feeling a mixture of amazement and confusion. Here and now, that touch of wonder hadn't been fully squashed. There had been nothing of a nightmare about those creatures. “They're whales, right?” “Flying rainbow whales, yup.” Small Pond nodded, her gaze full of a childish wonder. “They are said to live near the Summer Islands on the other side of the world. I promised myself I would meet some of them one day.” That's the spirit, I thought with good cheer. Finally, she was starting to think of her dream the right way – and no longer paying attention to my wings. Her every desire were as tangible as me or her in here. But not everypony smiled at this new snippet of information being shared. Small Fry was staring at her. He seemed to be carving the sight of his little sister in his brain. I knew he was seeing her the same way I did. I knew he saw the mare on the verge of freedom, smiling wide, leaning on the rail of the ship despite the violent waves. And his ears drooped on the side, a faint blush on his face. Well, I decided right then, that wouldn't do. I knew a guilty stallion when I saw one, and I would rather not. There were no worse time than in life-and-death situations to let yourself, and others, down. “And now, you have seen them, Pond.” At the roll of her eyes, I shrugged. “Technically. What else do you want to do?” “What I want...?” Her eyes glazing over me, Small Pond trotted to the front of the boat. The wind didn't reach through the barrier, but her mane moved as if it did. Just faintly, in echoes so weak I wondered if I imagined them, I heard seagulls screech and ponies laugh, fins striking water and ropes wheezing under strain. “There's... there's so many things...” she whispered, as if she didn't quite allow herself to wonder. Nope. With a knowing smile, I pushed a little. “Name them, Pond. Give them name. Give them substance. What is it that you want to do?” At first, she didn't react. Her desires seemed overwhelming. To long for them each day had made them less and less precise. They had been a want, a need even, but what, precisely had they been, before the darkness settled in? To define them now... Small Pond bit her lips. Was she really allowed to? Her gaze seemed to ask. I nodded. Obviously, else I wouldn't be asking her to. Right? Though she wasn't looking at him, I could feel Small Fry's tension and hesitation. He wasn't losing even the tiniest morsel of this conversation. He was finally seeing his sister. “I'd like to see the world.” She allowed herself a dreamy look, then took the mast and spun around it once, hoof on her brow like a pirate before her captain. “Travel the four seas, meet an exotic stallion on the way, discover a few treasures, maybe chart my own maps of the unexplored smoking ocean near the dragonlands. Be the first to set hoof on an island.” “Well,” I said with a cheeky grin, “you already have the 'meet a handsome stallion' down, so we can work on the rest.” “Yeah, he's right!” Small Fry said with an obviously fake cheer. His sister looked at him with no small amount of shock, as did I. Until he added, “so you should scratch that off your list, Puddle.” “Oh, Celestia!” She threw her forelegs in the air. “Fry, I'm an adult. What does it matter if I meet a nice special somepony in a harbour somewhere?” “It matters if that 'special' somepony takes advantage of you and never shows up again!” “Excuse me?!” Her shriek drilled into my ears. “Who went with Cast Net and Drift Net at the same time again?!” Ah, siblings. I shook my head, all the while trying and failing to hide a large smile. Those two really must have cared for each other a lot. Clumsy as it was, I could get Small Fry's point, same as his sister's. They cared. And there, the smile slipped. I had to trust that it would be enough. I had to. “Hey, Small Pond,” I called, my heartbeat quick despite the calm mask I wore. “Do... do you trust me?” Her answer came quick and unyielding. “Yes. I do trust you.” “But do you trust me with your fears?” Small Pond flinched, and while I understood, her reaction left with a knot in my guts. Above us, the storm kept raging; faintly, Luna's voice thundered to the still trashing serpent. “Pond, do you think you can leave that in my hooves? All the little doubts, the moments of frustration and anger, the near explosions, everything. Do you think you can do that? Think of them, remember what it is like, and give them up.” “... I'll... I'll try.” Small Pond's face scrunched up as her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. I could imagine her facing the dark memories, looking at them again, in the light of her new knowledge. Yet no hope softened her desperate grimace. She placed her hoof on mine, her fur feeling soft as silk to me. “Here, let me take it.” I whispered, gently. “Put it in my hoof, and trust me.” Something opened up, with a strangely mundane 'click', and I felt myself reel from a rush of dizzying terror. It was in the air, on my skin, in my blood, cold and crawling and screeching. Suddenly, Small Pond's hoof was an anchor in a tumultuous torrent. She trusts me. I drew upon the nauseous source, willing it to surge past her defences. Amongst the sparks of light, past the veil of her fur, a spot of pitch black marred the purity of her mind. It festered upon the most luminescent desires and tainted them with its shadow. Behind every little want and need, the echo of that darkness grew. There was not one thought she had allowed herself without the guilt and the shame. Oh, Pond, I thought, and made a promise. In our hooves, a dark substance gathered. Smokey, almost wisp-like. Little words drifted from its center, taken by the winds, with the same will to entrap and ensnare. Those I batted away with a flap of my wings. Yet even without, what remained in our grasp sent goosebumps up my foreleg. Clamping down on the treacherous weakness, I growled and forced my thoughts upon the substance. It was an anchor. A weight so terrible it had sunk a brilliant, brilliant mare to the lowest of despair. I showed it a flash of razor sharp fangs, and my order slammed into the mold of clay. To Small Pond's surprise, a blade erupted from the substance, a long, thick arrowhead linked to our combined hooves by a shaft of ebony wood. I recognized the shape as that of a lance. It grew and grew bigger still, greater than the mast of the boat, thicker than the width of a house, its head an enormous shark fang. It towered above all three of us. Even half sinking in the sea, it dwarfed everything but the Nightmare's head in the distance. Cold radiated from its shaft, and poor Small Pond shook violently in its shadow. “Ah. Well, ain't that a heavy burden on your mind, Pond?” My cheerful smile cracked. I couldn't. The confidence I projected felt fragile before the pangs of guilt in my chest. “It must have been hard to walk with that thing weighing you down. How did you ever manage?” Small Pond let out a mournful cry. “What do you intend to do with it?” Small Fry cut in. His frown hadn't lightened. There was still suspicion in his gaze, though not quite the same as before. It felt a more brotherly shade, a mundane sort of worry from a brother with a pretty-looking sister. He didn't look at me as he would a monster. “What will I do?” My mouth twisted into a savage grin. “Kill the serpent with it, of course.” “You'll never manage!” Small Pond yelled. Was it worry for me, trembling through that shrill tone? “It's too heavy to lift! Nopony can!” And, like the last of her strength had been drained, Small Pond let herself fall down on her rump. Fry galloped to her, but she seemed not to hear him nor his words. A feather caught the underside of her chin, and with a gentle touch, lifted it until her eyes were locked with mine. Only then did I let myself show her a confident, amused smirk. “See, that's the thing. That kind of burden...” I turned to stare Small Fry straight in the eyes. “It's the one that can only be eased by friends and family.” He understood. It was an impulse that ran under his skin. Of course he would catch my meaning right away. From the frantic energy I felt in him, he probably would have ended up trying the very same thing sooner or later. “How can I help?” he asked, fire in his eyes. “Tell me.” His sister slowly turned to him, lost. “Fry...” Quite suddenly, their touching moment slipped my mind for more pressing matters. An immense weight was bearing down on my horn and my legs. One of the Serpent's coils had collided with my barrier, and was pushing us through the water as if we were weightless. It hadn't even noticed us. Not with Luna still sending bolts after bolts of magic at its face. The boat skidded on the waves, bouncing in ridiculous skips like a thrown stone. With a low growl, I swung my horn, and the barrier flashed a deeper, opaque red. And maybe, just maybe, I kinda gestured for them to hurry it up a little. Small Fry took his sister's head in his hooves. “Come on, Puddle, you know me better than that. I'd carry the world on my shoulders if that's what I needed to do.” He chuckled, as is knowing a joke nopony else did. But it flickered away quick, his gaze filled to the brim with absolute sincerity. “My dream isn't more important than you. Please tell me you know that.” I waited as he did, unable to speak, hoping. And like him, I felt my muscles stiffened and my heart break. Fry's voice cracked. “Please! Pond, I want you happy! The restaurant doesn't matter to me if you're sad! Do you hear me? It doesn't matter! You can leave, I'll be okay on my own! So stop, Pond, please, stop!” One gentle grey hoof found its way onto his lips, and he was made silent. Though his eyes screamed, Fry held on to his breath, to his heart, long enough to feel his sister lean against him. “Thank you...” she whispered into his shoulder, half sobbing and half laughing. “Oh, Fry, thank you so much!” “There, there,” he said, a hoof patting her back, “it's alright, sis. Everything's gonna be alright.” My breath itched up in my throat. Strands of my fur stood straight on ends, while the base of my horn tingled. Small Fry had meant it. He had meant it so much that the air had stilled and the dream had shifted ever so slightly in response to his will. I found myself looking at the lance. It had lost its grim aura. In its stead, I could sense something fiery surging underneath its carved motifs. Something powerful. Meaningful. Yes, it would do nicely. Time to slay the snake, I thought. Once it's dead, things will settle down a bit. Small Pond will wake up, her brother too, and they'll finally have the talk they should have had for years. Once I kill it... “You know what?” I turned back to them, and it was all I could do to dodge the urging stare they sent my way. “I had an even better idea.” I pulled Small Pond's hoof until it touched the base of the lance's handle. “Take it. You'll be the one to slay your dreamon.” I didn't flinch at their combined shout of indignation and shock. I kept the unfailing smile on my face, and spoke with as much sincerity as I could put in a single sentence. “Else, well, it doesn't mean much, does it? It's gonna come back. Face your own fear, Pond.” Her hoof quivered against the shaft of wood, but did not move. “I can't carry it. It's too heavy.” She wasn't even trying. Old eyes like Granny's would remember what it looked like, when a pony grasped firmly at an object, whatever it was. Small Pond's hoof was pressed against the lance, just enough to say it touched it. Nothing more. “Grab it.” She shrunk back. The fear in her gaze struck me right at the chest. How easily the insecurities came back. But, wasn't that reason enough for her to be the one? “Trust me, Small Pond. Trust your brother. We're here, with you. We already know what you fear, and you know what? We don't judge you.” “I'd have rather you told me earlier, Puddle,” Small fry grunted, looking away with a mighty blush spread over his face. “Never wanted you to feel bad over me.” “Come on, Pond. Trust us. You can. This is your dream on the line. Remember the sea. Remember the mysteries of the world waiting, and the port cities you will sail to, and the exotic stallion you will meet. How badly do you want that? Is this truly enough to make you renounce those beautiful places to see, those people to find?” There was a different grief on her traits now. The beauty she had found before was turning to ashes and dust. She wanted to grasp at them, but her body refused to obey. “Sis, he's right,” Small Fry said as if it cost him dearly. “He can't do it for you and neither can I. It has to be you. Don't think about how hard it'll be, don't wonder what's going to happen if you fail, just... try.” Small Pond's hoof rose above her head, and with it, the skyscraper-like spear followed. She did not get the awe in our eyes at first. She didn't get to see it from our angle, a thin, slender mare like her, carrying a weapon so large it made her look the size of a flea. But we did. We did and we grinned so hard Small Pond had to realize what was going on. She looked to her hoof, and flinched, as if the lance would suddenly weight what it looked like it should. Her amazed eyes turned to me when it didn't. I responded with a cheeky grin. “Isn't it light?” She chuckled. She laughed, higher, crystalline, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She laughed and bellowed and fell back on me with a long sigh of content. My cheek brushed against hers. “A laughter shared is heightened. A burden shared is lessened. Love is great like that.” She smiled, eyes shining in the light, and such tenderness to her gaze that my heart skipped a beat. “You might be a dreamon, William, but you're not a monster.” I choked. A weight I hadn't known I carried had been shattered. All those creeping thoughts in the dark, all of Luna's accusations, all the taunts of the String-Man, they had burdened me. Made me wonder if perhaps that hunger was bigger than me. I could fight it. I knew I could fight it, but no one else seemed to. Small Pond believed in me. She... she actually believed in me. Gently, she reached for my hoof and I jolted back at the sudden rush of levity that a simple contact with her brought me. It felt... it felt golden, and in more ways than one. From my very own skin shone the same soft glow that still surrounded Small Pond. Upon my wings, upon my barrel and my chest, golden plates hung, radiant. Their glow cast a kind light over my fur, turning into a gentler shade of somber grey. I gazed in wonder at my own hooves, unable to detach my eyes from the rubies embedded in the plates. Each one reflected back the amazement held in my deep red irises. Even my mane, before reminiscent of a bloody mist, resembled the fires of the sun. There was nothing of darkness in me anymore. I looked the part of a goddamn knight in shining armour. Warmth fluttered in my chest. Is this how I look to you, Pond? Yes, her smile told me in earnest. She did see me as this creature of light. I wanted to hug her, so much the pangs of desire startled me. “Oi, I ain't here to hear you flirt, Puddle!” Small Fry called out. “Again!” Shaking my head, I willed my blush to disappeared, and Small Pond hung her head, her ears drooped. “Sorry,” she whispered, quietly enough that her brother would not be able to hear. “It isn't exactly the best time for this, is it?” “Ehhhhh...” I scratched the back of my neck, and nodded toward the stream of lightning rushing toward the Serpent's head. Its roar of pain made our boat rattle. Its tail swung through the air so fast and strong that the clouds split above it. “I don't mind.” Small Pond's head snapped to me. I winked. With a flick of my horn, I lifted both Small Pond and her brother onto my back. They – Fry more so than Pond – scrambled their hooves across my armour for a better grip. Eyes still on the titan's head hissing toward Princess Luna, I waited to feel them stop moving. “I'll have to drop the shield, alright? Both of you, hang tight, especially you, Pond.” To which she responded by holding her left hoof tighter over my armoured shoulder. My grin widened as much as Fry's scowl intensified. “It's gonna get messy. Steady...” The barrier fell. We soared. We shot in a straight line for the sky. Above the madness and the violence of the trashing dreamon. A streak of gold marked our progress, like the tail of a comet through the night sky. My wings flapped, and with each beat, I pumped more and more of that determination. We would see through the night. This wouldn't close the chapter of our lives with the Serpent winning. So I forced us ever higher, past the coils flinging in front of me, past the waves that were the claws of a monstrous will, past even the flash of Luna's magic. Past it all, until only the clouds could greet us. And their inhabitants, I thought with a wry smile. Pond radiated joy, as a gentle giant broke through the veil of vapour. Its long face glided past us, its skin softly glowing the shades of the rainbow. One eye the size of a house fixed us with an insistent stare, but my heart felt at peace. Its mourning song seemed so much grander than the chaos below. I found it easy to let my wings surf on the air current the whales created. “If it can even be a tenth of this...” I heard Small Pond whisper through fresh tears. “It'll be, sis,” Fry whispered back. “But first, we'll wake up.” The quiet vow repeated in my mind. They would wake up. Both of them, safe, as happy as they could be. I let the whale's song sink in, added its melody to the promise. Till my ears ticked at a noise not unlike chirping. Are those... goldfishes? They were. Fishes that swam through the air as if it were water, their toothed-mouths opening and closing fast, their vitreous gazes looking at us dead on, their scales in shades of gold much like my armour. I barely had time to savour the irony before they crossed the distance separating us. “Hold on!” I shouted right as I accelerated. Yet no matter how hard I flapped my wings, no matter how many turns and twists I took around the raging clouds, the swarm followed right after. Power tickled at the base of my horn. A blast of fire might do the trick. Something like a summoned predator or a vicious rain of anvils. But in the corner of my eyes, the spear Small Pond kept at hoof's reach shimmered with its purified strength. If I damaged it in the struggle... The Serpent was so close! There was a glint of silver. “Don't falter!” Small Fry commanded, his horn aglow with turquoise light. The fishes' flight had faltered, their formation no longer a straight, impeccable arrow of death. Speckles of golden dust fell out from their fins, and their cries were panicked as the silver glint zipped through their swarm. “They're not gonna get close to Pond!” His shout carried in the whipping wind. “Don't worry about them! I know my way about fishes!” Blood pumping like never before, I willed my wings to carry us faster, for the wind and the sky to soar past us in blurs and flashes. The clouds parted before us, cut right at the tip of my horn, swirling around the lance with the rainbow shine of the flying whales about. And finally, that shine seemed to reflect in the Serpent's dim yellow eyes. Finally, it took notice of the preys it had lost, of the defiance they had with a slow turn of its reptilian head. Good. The most savage part of me wanted it to know. It wanted it to feel, and suffer for it. “You know the words...” I said to Small Pond. Her eyes jumped back to me, a glint of surprise in them. Did she know the words? I thought she did, rather. She had been witnessed to the slaying of many, many shellfishes. She had seen me break apart the shells and burn their eyes and fling a lance through guts. She knew the words. “Together!” Small Pond suddenly shouted. And I grinned. “From Hell's heart...” Pond's grip on the lance tightened My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Our surroundings blurred. I could only see my target. We were zooming straight at the underbelly of the trashing serpent. Focus... Willpower shaped dreams. Wish it... It had trapped me here. It had trapped so many. It had tried eating Small Pond. And the rage came. Staggering, blazing. Every ounce of it poured into the motion. Every little bit given to her. “I STAB AT THEE!” Small Pond struck true. Light blinded us. Noise deafened us. For a staggering moment, our senses were overwhelmed. Something in the dream had broken. Something on a fundamental level. Rooted out. Severed as if snipped by a blade. And we were falling. My wings flapped, slowly, uneven. Falling, into the clouds or the water. Ringing, deafening. The world overcome and flooded with static. The sea and the sky were one, and two, and the same blurring sight of grey, distorted. Pieces of the storm clouds fell from up high, and left in their place holes in the dream. The anchor had been severed. And the Serpent's fury rang loud over the chaos. Its roar shook the skies and the seas, ripped them asunder from the sheer force it held. Waves crashed against us, covered us in salt and blood. We couldn't move. And still the sound shook us to our bones. It rippled and clawed its way inside our heads and filled them so we had no thoughts but the roar. And the roar was a cacophony of fury, heart boiling fury, and something else. Was it fear? An abject mixture of pain, shock and worry. The lance had plunged deep within its flesh, straight through the scales it thought invulnerable, and none of its trashing coils could ever relieve it of that pain. Small Pond had driven the weapon through it. In a thousand years, had it ever been inflicted such a thing as a wound? A part of me that was nothing of light awoke from its slumber. Drooled and licked its torn lips and razor sharp fangs. The scent of blood tickled my nose. But what struck my addled mind was the sensation of a grip lost, a pressure lifted. In its stead, I could only feel cold and a desire for that hoof and the mare attached to it to return. The softest of grey fur slid right before my eyes, down. Down. Down, toward the raging sea and the raging snake. “Pond!” I cried out, but she didn't hear. Didn't give sign that she focused on anything but the dreamon below. Small Fry's hooves bore into the plates on my back, urged me forward. I was diving. Winds slapped me in the face, dried my eyes and pushed at my wings. I was diving, faster. Faster to the beat of Fry's frantic whispers and the faltering light on Pond's horn. It could see. The malicious glint in the yellow eyes was fire. Hunger had left its insatiable guts for the briefest of moments in its long life. It was revenge it craved, for the mare that was smaller than its scales but had driven agony in its body. The jaws parted. Thousands of thousands of fangs awaited to welcome the falling mare. The sight that I was gifted next would be forever carved in my brain. For each piece of the sky that had fallen, the hole would become a window. The morning sun filtered its ray and broke the darkness of the battle. Suddenly there was light, so much light, Small Pond seemed ablaze, riding a star. Wisps of flames licked at her sides, twin trails of her burning power, in imitation of wings. It was her, and her alone, that struck the final blow, that shattered the nightmare. “LEAVE US ALONE!” And our wills were shaken, cracked by the cry of the dream world's mistress. The titan below felt shrunken, its hunger and rage insignificant. It could not dive fast enough. None could have. Torrents of flames and light descended upon it, and Small Pond reclaimed control of her dreams. I met her, Small Fry still on my back, with a slackened jaw, atop the charred remains of a creature whose sheer size made my brain hurt. And by all that was good in this world and the next, I... I thought I had never seen a more amazing sight than that little grey mare laughing, wrapped in the morning light. “I... I did it, William!” A smile came to me through the tears of pride. Yes, yes she had done it. I felt a rush of warmth and affection like no other before. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to say so many things, the best things. Small Fry certainly had no reservation and galloped and tackled and hugged his sister in a combination of loving and harsh words, that always ended up the most affectionate ones. And yet, through the overwhelming happiness, we still heard the whoosh of air and the clink of metal produced by the silver horseshoes' landing. “Princess Luna.” I did not know who said it, but we turned together to greet the Princess of Dreams. Though dishevelled, a somewhat heavy gait to her steps, she had lost none of her regal composure and cut straight to the chase. “You did well. All of you. The threat has been vanquished, of that there is no doubt, but there is not much time left. You two must leave.” While Small Fry gave out a loud whooping 'YES!', his sister glanced back to me. I saw understanding dawn on her. Waking up meant saying goodbye. That... that was fine. We'd been aiming for this since I realized the truth of this world and my new nature. I'd miss her. Now that separation stared us back in the face, I could feel an acute pain unlike anything a dream should let me experience. A part of me that was so very young and hopeful pushed the words near my lips. If it had to pass, then at least, not without the truth being out there. They were on the tip of my tongue. Frozen. Pulled back at the very last second. It couldn't be taken back. It was one of those things that changed the world forever, even just a little. And really, to a dreamon that only lived in dreams? She could do better than that... she ought to. She was going to say it. She was going to, and I'd never be able to bear what needed to be done. She opened her mouth, but I spoke first. “The dream is over. Wake up.” The siblings vanished, the pain of betrayal all too clear on Small Pond's face.