Bug Hunt
As much as Pharynx still loathed the changelings’ garish new pastels with a fiery vengeance worthy of a trilogy of thriller novels and perhaps a mediocre theatre adaptation, their alliance with Equestria and new policies of friendship and positivity held a great many upsides. Less possibility of death coming at them from all directions, for one. The Badlands to the south were still dangerous, but the swamps to the east were getting tamed, and with Equestria to the west and north, the only surprises with blades coming from there were the Crystal Prince’s bodyguards when the Prince himself was paying Thorax a surprise visit on his hatchday. (If only Shining had warned him about that…) The EUP either offered them direct aid in monster-wrangling or training in preparation for future wrangling. He’d never felt so full and energized in all his life, thanks to extensive sharing of love. Changelings were learning manufacturing so they could actually make neat stuff.
Perhaps most importantly of all, though, now he could read.
All the way back to his nymphood, Pharynx had been a guard changeling through and through. He’d never strayed far from the Hive, never gained some of the pony skills that were required by infiltrators, like ballroom dancing. After all, what was the point? Reading had piqued his interest slightly, but was still bewildering. How on Equus could all these little squiggles make sounds? Why could these squiggles only go here? Why did these squiggles sound like this some times but like that other times? Why were there two sets of squiggles that had a one-to-one matchup with each other but weren’t interchangeable, because those could only go at the beginnings of words (and not even always)? Why did these squiggles not make any sounds but did change what sounds these squiggles made? And so on and so forth.
Once pony-changeling relations got less tense than the cables on a suspension bridge, though, Pharynx found himself drawn to examining those squiggles. And once he put his mind to it, they weren’t quite as nonsensical as he’d thought them to be. The sounds the letters signified weren’t always one-to-one, but he managed them well enough. Once he realized writing things down meant he didn’t need to remember them, well, he wrote down his guard schedules all the time. Then an enterprising traveling book salesmare stopped by the Hive and (once the issue of money got sorted out) Pharynx discovered the joys of deliberate lying, also known as fiction. His especial favorites were Trot Clancy’s books and the Aubray-Mareturin series (shame the last one hadn’t been finished).
When an entirely different traveling book salesmare stopped by, Pharynx fell in love with nonfiction. Classics like the strategy of Sun Tzhì or the self-reliance of Heavyset Thoroughbred. A top-to-bottom analysis of a spectacularly failed business. A surprisingly useful guide on how to invent absolutely anything. And more. So, so much more. He had true stories of all kinds; the only thing he was more dedicated to protecting was the Hive itself.
And now he had spellbooks. Because someling had to protect dreams, and somebus had to teach someling how to do it, and somebuggy had to figure out how to ask somebus to teach someling how to do it.
He blamed Ocellus.
“-and then we made potions with Professor Zecora, or at least we tried, but Gallus didn’t know how to use a Bucksen burner, so he turned it up too high, and then-”
It was hard to believe Ocellus had been so shy not so long ago. Now it was impossible to shut her up once she got going. Which, granted, wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but still. When she started, she just sort of kept going on and on and on with whatever crossed her mind. Thorax adored it to the point that, whenever Ocellus was back home on vacation, he invited her over just to listen to her magnificent, thrilling tales of the wonders of interpersonal education; Pharynx mostly tolerated it. Normally, he wouldn’t have listened at all, but Thorax insisted that he needed to sit in on those talks so he could have more experience with the outside world. Pharynx thought that patrolling the area three miles away from the Hive was as much outside world as he needed, thank you.
“-marshmallows everywhere! But, somehow, Professor Zecora made it work, and-”
Still, it wasn’t a complete loss, even if he could never quite figure out just how well Namepending Castle would hold up against a siege. Ocellus made the stories interesting enough as long as Thorax stayed quiet (he was never silent, often oooing and aahing and laughing, but he was quiet enough). Some of the little interactions she had with her friends could at least get a chuckle out of Pharynx. And every now and then, he’d hear a little tidbit about magic that would make him drill Ocellus for hours about whenever Thorax let him (which was never).
“-helped him study with Princess Luna’s daughter, Moondog, and all this happened in dreams but it worked really well-”
When one of those tidbits passed by, Pharynx sat up a little straighter and turned his ears forward. Ponies were impressed by Celestia moving the sun, but that was just long-range telekinesis times a million. (Or perhaps times six or seven, if he’d heard pony history right.) Luna’s dreamwalking, though? That was some impressive magic, worthy of attention. Not quite like anything he’d heard or seen before, and definitely not something changelings could do. He wasn’t even sure most ponies could do it. Sun-moving? Boring. Dream weaving? Worth listening to. Even if he didn’t recognize the name “Moondog”. (When did Luna have the time to carry and raise a child, anyway?)
“-so I wanted to talk to her and ask her about teaching, but I mean, she’s in dreams, so the only way I could talk to her was with dream magic. I went and learned some, enough to talk to her, but she didn’t want to sub, so that didn’t-”
What Ocellus had said hit Pharynx and he sat up. “Go back,” he said in a small voice. “What, what was that you said?”
“Um…” One of Ocellus’s ears twitched and she tilted her head to one side. “She didn’t want to sub? She took that back after we stopped Cozy Glow, though, and her econ class was like-”
“No, before that.”
Ocellus tilted her head the other way. “Learning dream magic?”
“Yes. That.” Pharynx took a deep breath, telling himself to remain calm. And then he calmly shot out of his chair and calmly got right in her face. “You can learn dream magic?” he gasped calmly.
“Um… yes?” Ocellus squeaked. Her eyes huge, she wiggled back in her chair in a vain attempt to regain some personal space and looked like she was on the verge of turning into a rock. “Anycreature that dreams can learn it, so-”
“I can learn dream magic?” Pharynx gasped. “Why didn’t anybody-”
“Pharynx!” Thorax yanked him back by his tail. “Give her some room!”
“Sorry,” Pharynx lied. His mind was racing as he locked eyes with Ocellus again. “How did you learn dream magic?” he asked, doing his best to not sound like he was demanding it.
“I… read up on it,” said Ocellus, who already looked less liable to bolt. She unruffled her dorsal frill. “There are books for everything, you know. These ones are pretty old, but the spells in them still work.”
“Those books,” Pharynx growled. “I need them.”
Ocellus glanced at Thorax. “Just give them to him,” Thorax groaned, “or else he’ll never snap out of it.”
And so, Pharynx had spent the last day in what qualified as the barracks reading up on onieroturgy or dreamwalking or whatever it was called. (Why did every pony magic discipline have so many names?) The descriptions of the spells were an absolute mess, but since Pharynx had been living in absolute messes of various sorts pretty much his entire life, he could adjust. They even kind of made sense if you looked at them sideways and assumed logic was out to lunch, back in ten.
First step: make contact with Moondog. Or Luna, but at least with Moondog, he wouldn’t be demanding the attention of the Princess of the Night. If you risked getting run over by a vehicle either way, go for the wagon rather than the train. Ocellus had spent some time with him, telling him how she’d made contact with Moondog, and since Pharynx wasn’t interested in eating an entire wheel of cheese right before bed on the off chance she might look his way, spells it was. This particular one had apparently been developed by Luna specifically for contacting Moondog and wasn’t that different from sending letters in the real world. It involved… an awful lot of hazy stuff Pharynx couldn’t categorize, with barely any theory or solid instructions behind it. He wouldn’t know he was doing it right until Moondog actually came to him.
“Um. Pharynx?” Thorax leaned into the room. “We can just… write Princess Luna a letter and-”
“And what?” asked Pharynx. He didn’t look up from the book. “Spend a week waiting for the postmare to show up? Wait a moon for the letter to get lost in a pile of other letters to the princesses? Wait another week for a premade response that goes out to almost every letter they get that doesn’t answer any of our questions? All while beings from beyond the veil of sleep freely prey on our thoughts?”
“Um. Maybe?”
Pharynx facehooved.
Thorax walked into the room, taking small, nervous steps. “I know you mean well, and I get where you’re coming from, really, I do, but… do you think that maybe you’re being a bit…” He bit his lip and looked away. “Obsessive?”
“Maybe,” grunted Pharynx. “And if that’s what it takes to protect the Hive, so be it.” He looked up at Thorax. “Thorax, I know this isn’t the only way to contact Luna or Moondog. But it’s fast, and if Ocellus can do it, I should be able to.”
“I don’t know, she’s pretty smart.”
“So at least let me try it my way before we do yours, okay? Even if I’m obsessed, I’m not stupid.”
“I… You, you know, you’re right,” Thorax said. “It’s- I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Just- be safe, okay? I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out you’re possessed by notches or whatever they’re called.”
“Nocnice, and they can’t possess people.”
“They can’t? Well, what about-” Thorax clapped a hoof to his mouth. “Sorry, I’ll stop hovering,” he whispered, backing out of the room. “Um. Good luck and… sleep tight?” He turned beet red and vanished; Pharynx sighed and shook his head. He loved his brother, but… such a dweeb.
Pharynx skimmed the last few paragraphs of the current section. He wasn’t afraid of nightmare monsters like that (well, not that afraid), but he’d be lying if he said the whole thing didn’t make him a little anxious. He was trying to pull together the skills for a branch of magic he’d never even touched before and knew of a grand total of three other people who could do it. He didn’t know what it felt like and he didn’t know how hard or easy it would be. Heck, depending on how you looked at it, he was trying to cross over into another dimension using nothing but hopes and dreams (ha ha). Who wouldn’t be anxious about that? It was like trying to perform a high dive while blindfolded, only a thousand times worse.
But he had handled their metamorphosis. Surely he could handle this. Pharynx slammed the book shut and climbed onto his bed.
As he drifted off to sleep, he focused on the act of sleeping itself. He would be aware when he slipped away, he told himself. He would know when he was dreaming, and he would know that because…
Hmm. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through.
Pharynx groaned and opened his eyes to glare at the stars above. So much for that plan. He could try it tomorrow, but would that change anything? He didn’t know now, what would he know then? The book hadn’t said much about the feeling (not that he could remember, anyway), so it wasn’t like he’d missed-
He blinked. Why could he see stars when his room had a ceiling?
Squinting, Pharynx examined the stars more closely. These weren’t any stars he recognized. They were too dense, too colorful — seriously, that one was pink. Ugh, would those pastels haunt him even in his sleep? Yes, this was a dream. It had to be.
He rolled off the bed. The floor beneath his feet was nice and gritty — even moreso than in the real world — but he paid it no mind. He closed his eyes and, not knowing how he was doing it, reached out with his mind. Moondog, he kept telling himself and the void. Daughter of Princess Luna. I need your help. Pharynx of the Changeling Hive. And he slung those words out. Once he was in the dream, the spell was surprisingly simple, and despite his misgivings, it felt… sufficient, like this was the method a greenhorn would use because they didn’t know any better ways. He knew who he was looking for (ish) in a mental world, so maybe the dreamscape would adjust to thoughts?
Sheesh. Why was pony magic so oogy-boogy? Not like changeling magic, all nice and controlled, where all you had to do to take on another’s shape was-
And then he… Pharynx wouldn’t say he felt it. The suppression of the Changeling language in favor of Ponish (by Queen Chrysalis herself, no less!) may have made infiltration easier, but it left changelings with a dearth of words to describe what they could do that no pony could. Pharynx sensed it the same way he sensed emotions; there was someone else in here. It was odd, though, not quite like any living thing he’d encountered before. Their emotions managed to be paradoxical, rigidly flexible, angularly spherical, like a metal bar bending freely or-
“Hey. Hellooooooo. You called for me, right?”
Pharynx managed to not be surprised by the person’s tone. You wouldn’t think Thorax was King when you heard him speak, or that Twilight was Princess. He opened his eyes and managed to not be surprised by the way the person in front of him seemed to be made of negative space; besides it matching what Ocellus had told him, it felt right for a dream, somehow. Assuming this was Moondog, the response was awfully quick.
“Hey,” the hole said again. It clapped its hooves together, producing an oddly echoey sound. “Still with us?”
“W-well, u-um,” Pharynx heard himself say. Was he stuttering? He didn’t stutter. “I… didn’t think-”
“Heh.” The hole slouched on nothing. “What is it with people trying summoning spells on me only to be surprised when I actually, y’know, get summoned? And I’d say don’t make me go through the whole world-conquering spiel again, but changelings aren’t into that anymore, right?” Pause. “And if that was offensive, just slap me, okay? No, seriously, do it. I’m sorry, I don’t usually interact with people who aren’t ponies.”
Pharynx hid his surprise with a cough, although the hole didn’t look that convinced. “Are you… You’re Moondog, right?” he managed to ask.
The hole grinned and flared her wings. “The one and only! Until I figure out how to duplicate myself. So, what do you need?”
“Well…” Pharynx still didn’t like asking for help. In Chrysalis’s Hive, it was good to be strong, and to ask for help was to be weak. It was one of his most ingrained behaviors and even ponies seemed to respect it at times. But he needed — needed — help. He wasn’t going to get anywhere on his own, and if protecting the Hive required asking the help of this… flighty absence of space, then so be it. He swallowed. “You don’t patrol changeling dreams, do you? What about Luna?”
“Erng…” Moondog bit her lip and folded her ears back in thought. How could something that looked like this behave so naturally? “I sure don’t. Mom wants me to stick to Equestria. Pretty sure she doesn’t, either. We’re not supposed to intrude on the domains of other species-”
“Then could you teach me?”
“I…” Moondog bobbed her head back and forth. “…suppose maybe I could- Who are you and why do you want to know?” she asked quickly.
Narrowing his eyes, Pharynx opened his elytra and buzzed his wings. (He’d been practicing to make sure it was actually a threatening buzz rather than the low-key hum of other changelings.) “My name is Pharynx and I’m responsible for keeping the Changeling Hive safe from intruders. Dreamscape intruders are intruders. So I need to learn how to wipe the floor with them so-”
“But… hold on…” Some of the stars in Moondog’s body were twinkling oddly. “Is that, like, an actual, official position?” she asked nervously. “You’re not just some random changeling declaring himself a guard?”
Pharynx tightened his jaw and managed to not speak. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve gotten in Moondog’s face and shamed drill sergeants the world over with the force of his yelling for her questioning his position, but that wasn’t the sort of thing you did to royalty. “I am absolutely official,” he growled. “Just ask King Thorax. And get him to stop rhapsodizing about cloud art while you’re at it. I need your help, and-”
Moondog flared her wings and backed away slowly. “Oh, no, no no no, if this is the real deal, then there is no way I’m causing a diplomatic incident before I become princess. Not without family around to point and laugh, anyway. Can you, uh, wait a sec?” And she disintegrated before Pharynx could say it wasn’t like he could do anything else.
Anyone else, Pharynx would’ve already had his doubts. But Ocellus liked her, and Ocellus generally seemed to have a good perception of people. If Ocellus thought Moondog could help, then Moondog could help. No matter how unprofessional she seemed.
Thankfully, barely any time passed before plumes of blue and purple smoke blossomed from nothing before him. He snapped to attention before the alicorn of the night had fully coalesced. She didn’t look particularly regal, but she did look like she was meant to be there: a spear in the armory, a guard at the door, a sculptor in the studio, cream in the éclair. (Great. Now those sweets Thorax had loved so much were invading his thoughts.) Moondog pluffed into existence next to her, but hung back slightly, making sure Luna took center stage.
“Princess Luna,” he said, bowing. Even he knew to be semi-courteous when speaking with royals in their own domain. He respected Luna, besides; she knew the value of a good head-smashing better than Celestia, it seemed.
“Lord Protector Pharynx,” she said, returning the favor. She gestured to Moondog, who waved. “And it seems you already know about my daughter, Moondog.”
“I heard about her,” said Pharynx. “Ocellus told me.” Pause. “Everything.”
“Apologies,” said Luna, nodding gravely.
“Do you… have a title?” Pharynx asked Moondog. “I don’t want to offend you.” Was he coming on too light? If she’d been a changeling in the real world, even a queen or king, definitely. In here? Maybe. It was hard to tell with ponies or pony-adjacents. Sometimes they liked knocking each other’s faces in, sometimes they liked sharing cookies. Weirdos.
“Weeeellllllll…” Moondog rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ve been calling myself a duchess when it comes to that, but I’m not sure if that’s actually true and I don’t care enough to find out.” She glanced at Luna. “You know, I don’t think we ever officially deci-”
Luna spoke very quickly. “Moondog of Equestria, I do hereby bestow upon you the title of Duchess of Dreams.” She bonked Moondog on the head with a scepter she suddenly had. “There. Worry no more, for that’s that. I shall ensure the paperwork is filled out properly.”
“Sweetness.”
Pharynx’s wings buzzed. “Um. Duchess Moondog.” He bowed slightly.
Moondog either didn’t notice the slight or didn’t care. “Lord Protector Pharynx,” she said, bowing deeply. “Sweet title.”
He nearly objected, but a second’s thought, and he had to concede that it was a pretty impressive title. “Princess Luna, Duchess Moondog,” he said. Deep breath. “I need to be taught how to patrol dreams. As the head of the Changeling Guard, I need to protect the Hive from all forms of enemies, including non-physical ones.” He briefly thought about the second option, the one he didn’t want to consider. But Luna and Moondog could both outclass him, so if it was what they wanted, there wasn’t much he could do about it. “Unless,” he choked out, “you want to handle it.”
“We don’t, do we?” Moondog asked Luna. “It’s kinda patronizing and… iffy, you know, if we just jump in and go, ‘We’ll handle dreams for you, don’t worry.’ It’s like we’re saying there’s no way a changeling can be trusted with protecting changelings in their dreams, and that’s just ugh.” She shuddered. “So wrong.” (Pharynx’s disposition towards Moondog immediately went up a notch or two.)
“Indeed,” said Luna. “And Pharynx learning even this little so quickly is promising.”
“So are all changelings this good,” asked Moondog, “or are you and Ocellus just, like, prodigies?” She tapped her chin. “You’re already sculpting your own bodies, I guess going to dreams isn’t that much of a leap.”
“I can think of no reason for you to not be instructed,” Luna said to Pharynx. “As I am… handling transitional matters at the moment, Moondog shall teach-”
“Wait, what?” Moondog stared at Luna the same way one would a train crash. “You want me to do it?”
“It will be another learning experience for you,” Luna said calmly. “There is no urgency, no time limit. I doubt it will be all that different from the previous times you instructed others in dream magic.”
“Those other times didn’t have all this diplomatic baggage with it!”
“What about Shining Armor?”
Pharynx risked butting in. “I really don’t mind-”
“Can you hold on a sec?” Moondog yanked down a set of curtains from nothing; her and Luna’s voices were unnaturally muffled on the other side as they kept speaking.
“Excuse me?” Pharynx demanded. He thrust his head forward through the gap in the center. “I need-”
He blinked. Neither alicorn was there, nor was any trace of them. He could still hear them, though, muffled by… overlapping spacetime? It was like they were simply invisible and a few feet in front of him. But when he stepped through the curtains and waved a hoof, he felt nothing. “Helloooooooo?” he asked, turning on the spot.
“We are busy,” Luna said into his ear. The sudden clarity and abrupt nearness of her voice absent anyone saying it made him jump. “Please be patient.”
Easy for the nigh-reality-warper to say. He grunted at the disembodied voice and sat down.
It was only a few seconds before he got to thinking. There were nightmare beasts out there that haunted sophonts’ dreams. If they behaved semi-physically, this sort of spatial warping would be fantastic at diverting them. Would it stop them? Probably not, especially not if they were half as good with dreams as Luna was, but anything that kept them away from a changeling for another second was potentially useful. And if he learned this, and it turned out to be easy to use, and he stacked it-
The curtains parted, revealing Luna and Moondog where he had once stood. Luna was as serene as ever, while Moondog looked morose. “It is settled, then,” Luna said. “Moondog shall teach you the ways of oneiroturgy.” She nudged Moondog forward. “I wish to you the best of luck, Pharynx. May your skills be great and may your hive be well-protected.” She inclined her head to him and vanished in a cloud of sparkles. (Sparkles. Pharynx snorted. Ponies.)
Moondog stood up straight and brushed herself off. “So,” she said. “Um.” She flexed her wings. “Yeah.”
“You know I’m just the head of the Changeling Guard, right?” Pharynx asked. “I don’t have any political power or responsibilities, thank the queen, and Thorax is too much of a pushover to do anything to you unless you actually start killing changelings. You couldn’t get in trouble even if I wanted you to.”
“Weeellllll, I know,” said Moondog, rubbing the back of her neck, “but it’s just still a lot to take in.” She cleared her throat; Pharynx was surprised that she had a throat and it needed to be cleared. “I, uh, I hate to do this to you, but would you mind, uh, waiting a day or so? Just so I can get my head all…” She twirled her hooves around each other. “Sorted out, you know?”
“I… guess.” More than guess, really. Pharynx knew how much rapid schedule changes could mess someone up and he wasn’t about to force Moondog to go through with teaching at the wrong time. He just didn’t want to admit that he had to wait. “Just be here tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on,” snorted Moondog. “I’m not that bad at time management.” She exploded into a plume of glitter.
Pharynx pounded his chest to cough the glitter out. (Why could he cough in a dream? That wasn’t fair.) Still, his spirits were high-ish with the knowledge that he’d taken his first steps on the path to dream-protector-dom. It wasn’t exactly what he’d been expecting, but since these were dreams, that was probably a good thing. Moondog was… If Luna trusted her, she was at least competent, and that was all that mattered to Pharynx. He could do this. He would do this.
What did time mean to a dream entity thing? Pharynx had managed to start lucid dreaming again the next night, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting. He didn’t have a clock and he was sure that if he had one, it wouldn’t behave like a clock at all. So here he was, pacing around and around in a buckball stadium, waiting for somebody to show up without knowing when they’d show up.
The marshmallow the teams were using as a ball bounced off his head again, but he didn’t stop glowering at the turf. He hated waiting. Waiting could go die in a fire. He didn’t like his time being wasted, and every single second he spent here was getting wasted. Maybe not everyone in the Hive liked him, but at the very least, they respected him enough to not waste his time when they had requests, and he returned the favor by not wasting their time getting those requests done ASAP. It worked out fine. Here… What was he supposed to do, when the one wasting his time was royalty? Would sending Moondog another letter reminding her be out of line? Probably not, as long as he kept it polite enough, but Pharynx had to work to be polite at the best of times, let alone when he was angry like this. Maybe-
“Hey! Excuse me!” one of the players yelled to him. “Can we have our mallow back?”
Pharynx picked up the marshmallow and was about to toss it back (as hard as he could, aimed at the player’s head) when he took another look at it. Ocellus had managed to learn some dream magic without any help from Moondog whatsoever. He could do the same, right?
Dream weavers like Luna and Moondog could manipulate dreams freely. Changelings could manipulate their bodies freely. If he could link them… Pharynx closed his eyes and… reached out with his mind, he supposed. Tried to be aware of the dream the same way he was aware of his body. He could almost feel the marshmallow the same way could feel his wings-
No, wait. He could feel it. There was a light weight on his hoof, but, totally unrelated to touch, he knew there was a sense of roundness and marshmallowiness in front of him. It was closer to emotioception than anything he’d felt before. So he tried tweaking it the same way he tweaked his body to shapeshift. Something simple would do to start. But what? …A red rubber ball, the kind the sport normally used. Pharynx held the image in his mind of that red rubber ball and pushed out, hoping to-
“Oi! Give it here!”
Pharynx grit his teeth and imagining red-rubber-ballness quickly turned to imagining angry-honey-badgerness. Specifically, the player getting mauled by that angry honey badger. It wasn’t his fault; he just didn’t have his thoughts completely under control.
And the sense Pharynx was holding turned to the remarkably precise one of a honey badger very particularly angry at the player who was yelling at him. His eyes snapped open and he stared at the thoroughly vexed honey badger perched on his hoof, growling at the player. Huh. That was easy. Its fur all seemed to be one piece and the stripes definitely moved whenever he blinked, but still. Honey badger.
“Well? I’m waiting!”
Pharynx grinned. “Here, catch.” He lobbed the badger over.
The second it landed, the honey badger dug into the player’s face; he screamed and bolted, running around the stadium and trying to claw the badger from his face. The honey badger didn’t care, holding on tight, ripping and tearing as only a crazed mustelid could. Maybe it should’ve been a wolverine…
“This is terrible,” said Moondog, “but mildly entertaining.”
Pharynx didn’t twitch in surprise; it was unbecoming for a guard to twitch. He settled for saying, “You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Moondog rubbed the back of her neck. “Busy night. Wasn’t expecting it.”
“How can you expect a certain night?” asked Pharynx. “You don’t know what ponies are going to be dreaming about until they’re already dreaming.”
“You- learn to get a feel for these sorts of things,” said Moondog, watching the honey badger continue its onslaught. “I’ve been working long enough to know. Anyway, uh, sorry, but I’m kinda busy the rest of the night, too. I really only stopped in to, uh, let you know.” She grinned the grin of a mouse cornered by a rattlesnake.
Pharynx groaned inside. Of course royalty had other responsibilities. “Fine,” he grunted. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Sure, sure.” Moondog nodded. “Nice job on the badger, by the way.” She saluted and refracted away.
Well, that sucked. All that waiting for nothing. Okay, maybe not nothing; he’d figured out how to turn things into other things. But how much of an accomplishment was that?
“GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFF!” screamed the player.
…A satisfying one. Still, he hadn’t gotten very far, and was it even repeatable? Pharynx dug up a clod of dirt and, through the same technique, molded it into a diamond. Okay, it was. But it was only one small part of a very big responsibility. Unless he wanted to jump into the deep end of unknown magic, he’d have to suffer through the rest of the night and all of tomorrow waiting for Moondog. But she had to teach him eventually, right? It couldn’t be this busy every night.
Five nights in a row, Moondog had skipped out on instruction. Five nights. She always managed to have some excuse on what was going on — “stress over a peace treaty”, “freaking out ’cause of a big dam building project”, “exhaustion from the end of the buckball season”, “exhaustion from the end of the spring season” — and was content to do nothing more than blip into his dreams for half a minute to make that excuse.
And so, it was with a mood of glumness that Pharynx bounced his ball on the air. (Bounce. Soccer ball.) He wanted to be ready for her arrival — hence his lucidity — but it was hard to get remotely invested when all signs pointed to nothing changing tonight. (Bounce. Buckball.) He kept himself something resembling occupied in the usual way: continuing to refine his skill at dream transformation. (Bounce. Buckyball.) Doing it well wasn’t quite as easy as it had seemed, thanks to weird mental effects the book had trouble describing. (Bounce. Cloud ball.) It seemed to be that the greater the extent of the change, the more the object “wanted” to go back to its original form. (Bounce. Rubber ball.) Or something. (Bounce. Cotton ball.) It was hard to tell and the scientific hypothesis, with all its repetitive testing, sucked. (Bounce. Steel ball.)
With every bounce, it grew a little bit harder to transform the ball as it got further and further from what the mind had decided it would be. (And this was his own mind; how much harder would it be in another’s?) He could still change it; he just had to be more stubborn. Fortunately, Pharynx had seemed to inherit all the stubbornness from the entire Hive after their metamorphosis, and he was not going to be stopped by a stupid little ball.
As he kept bouncing (paper ball), Pharynx looked around himself. The endless meadow he was on was so dull. Maybe… He put his hoof on the ground and felt out. It wasn’t that different from the ball, really (wooden ball). Just… more. He pulled his thoughts together and pushed out.
Immediately, he could feel that it would take a lot more effort than simple objects. Poke a ball with a needle, and you had a flattened ball. Poke a meadow with a needle, and you had a meadow with a needle sticking out of the ground and some idiot who went around stabbing meadows. Poke the meadow with a million needles, though, and you got… well, definitely not the same meadow as before. Pharynx gathered his will and pushed harder and harder until the meadow wasn’t.
The ground tilted, some of the grass wilting. Trees reverse-shriveled up from nothing, looking a bit fake but better than nothing. Rocks popped into existence and bounced off the ground like styrofoam. Within seconds, Pharynx was sitting on the slope of a forested mountain, and for the first time since he’d started working with dream magic, he felt… tired? Burned-out. Like his mind had run a mile. Well, what had he expected? Nopony said this would be easy.
A purple mist curled up from a crack in the ground. Pharynx knew what was up even before it plumped out into Moondog. “So, uh, good news or bad news?”
“Good news,” grunted Pharynx. “I already know the bad news.” He didn’t look directly at her. He wasn’t sure he could hold himself back.
“Okay! Good news. Loose Gasket is gonna try bungee jumping tomorrow!” Moondog smiled.
Pharynx stared. As if that name meant anything to him. “How- How is that good news?” he spluttered.
“She’s a real pillbug,” said Moondog cluelessly. “Doesn’t like trying new things. But I gave her some subconscious nudges and she’s finally learning to unwind. Trust me, that’s a big deal.” She nodded sagely.
“And… your obligations to me aren’t?” Pharynx asked through gritted teeth.
“Sure they are. But, see, that’s the bad news. There’s this train bridge going up between Luna Pier and Halterdale, and it’s this big bridge, and-”
“Fine.” Pharynx brusquely waved her away. “Go to your work. Pay more attention to bridges than to the Lord Protector of another sovereign nation. I don’t care. I’ve only been waiting for a week. What’s another week? Make it a year, while you’re at it!”
“Thanks!” Moondog clapped him on the back. “I knew you’d understand! Nice mountain, by the way.”
Pharynx actually felt his mind stall, the way his thoughts fixated on that one idea. He whirled on Moondog. “Are you seriously-” But she was already gone.
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In, out, in, out. He needed — needed — something to punch. A training dummy would do just fine. One of those wooden ones, about his height at the shoulder- No, a little taller. He was going to hit hard. With rivets everywhere-
Before he knew what he was doing, he gathered the impression together and slapped it onto empty space. When he opened his eyes, boom: training dummy, exactly as he’d pictured it. He promptly bucked it into the next province. Would another one be as easy to make? Yes, it would. Buck.
Another deep breath. He could wait. He had to.
Being this thoroughly vexed meant Pharynx had a lot of pent-up energy. Since he couldn’t take it out on the other changelings, he directed it towards his dreams. It was amazing how it was possible to read angrily once you set your mind to it. Every word burned itself into his brain, so deeply he was sure he’d never forget it. Each new chapter told of a new skill, and each new skill burned to be used.
A week and a half in and not content with beating the stuffing out of inanimate objects anymore, Pharynx had moved on to non-sapient dream constructs. He would pull a blank, ponnequin like body from the air, suplex it, and repeat. The first half-dozen were stiff and immobile. The next ones grew more flexible as he remembered to give them joints. Then they could react when he pushed in motive force. By the time Moondog had the gall to stop by that night, suplexing these constructs was almost as fun as the real thing, and definitely more consequence-free.
“So, uh,” Moondog said, rubbing her hooves together, “funny story-”
“Something came up and you don’t have time tonight?” Pharynx mumbled. He suplexed the next pony-shaped thing so hard it exploded.
Moondog wiped the soot off her face. “I mean, as neat as it is to see you making these, I’ve got other stuff going on-”
“Whatever,” grunted Pharynx. Why was he even waiting anymore? “Just go.” He kept his voice level, but his temper was wound so tightly not a single molecule of air could escape. “Not like I’ve been waiting at all. Nope.” He gave the next target a hard punch.
“Hey!” Moondog protested as she shimmered away. “I’ll get to it. Eventually.”
Eventually, Pharynx had had enough. He might not have mastered dream magic yet. But after some rigorous reading while awake, he did know a locator spell. And that location spell told him exactly where Moondog was: not here and not coming here. Again.
This was ridiculous. Over two weeks and absolutely no instruction. It didn’t matter if Moondog was royalty. Actually, wait, it did. Because if Moondog was royalty and not fulfilling her obligations to another sovereign nation, hoo boy, that had “diplomatic incident” written all over it in permanent ink with the nicest calligraphy you could imagine. Pharynx tracking her down and slapping her silly would be her getting off lightly. He was going to be nice to her, in that old way where “nice” meant “catching the intruders in a sack rather than knocking them out and giving them a concussion in the process”. Good times. Good times.
His plan was simple: leave his dream, track down Moondog, give her the old one-two. (No, Pharynx didn’t care that it probably wouldn’t hurt her at all; it’d make him feel better.) Thanks to the tracking spell, he already had step 2 down. Step 3 was self-evident. Step 1… That was the tricky part.
The wall in front of him was rock, nice and porous and slightly spongy, just like the walls in the Hive. Pharynx glared at it. That stupid wall, being all realistic and relateable when he needed it to be surreal so it’d be easier to remember it was a dream. There was something outside the wall- Well. Outside this reality, really. But it was easier to pretend it was behind the wall. Roaring in anger, he smashed his hoof against it. He’d never been so angry he’d punched his way out of a universe before, but there was a first time for everything.
He paid closer attention to the impact than usual. There had to be some sort of… texture to dreams, for Luna and Moondog to pull apart and leave. He focused on the existence of the dream the same way he’d felt it as an extension of his body, probed it-
There. That was an edge that definitely existed, but not in any of the usual three dimensions. Almost like a mental blind spot. Pharynx pushed at it, attacked it, did everything he could to get beyond it, all represented by him punching the everloving snot out of the wall. Reality slowly felt more and more oppressive, like space itself was hemming him in. He pushed forward and onward-
-and outward. Something snapped and space unravelled, ideas and sight parting like unwound silk. Pharynx’s being slithered out between inches and into… everything or nothing, he wasn’t quite sure. Around him, there was so much… being. Thoughts and notions, hopes and dreams pressed in on him from all sides. Most sophonts probably would’ve simply sat down to drink it all in.
Pharynx did not; there was a face that needed punching. The splendor of the mind could wait. His locator spell was still pointing the way (a very odd way, true, but still a navigable way). He took one step into the starfield that wasn’t a field and didn’t have stars and a door suddenly appeared before him. Pharynx didn’t bother gawking.
Unreality snapped back into place around him when he pushed through. This dream felt hard and brittle, and not just because it was a rocky cave. It was like regular land compared to the structure of the Hive; not remotely malleable. Which, if that book had been right, meant…
There it was. In fact, there they all were. A pony, probably the dreamer, huddling on the ground in the fetal position. A nocnica, looking like the usual tentacled brand of eldritch horror, covered in impossible coils and non-Euclydesdalean pustules that made Pharynx’s eyes water. And standing between them, Moondog, apparently no more perturbed than if this was just a long line at the watering hole. “Look, look,” she said casually, “if you can just hold on for like one more minute-”
“Quit stalling and face me,” growled the nocnica in a multifaceted voice that probably wasn’t physically possible. “I’m not going to play any game of yours. I’m still getting stronger, you know.”
“But I’m just waiting for someone to show- Oh, hey, Pharynx!” Moondog waved cheerfully at him. “Just engaging with a nocnica here. I’ll get to you once-”
And Pharynx punched her in the face, screw the consequences. She somersaulted gracefully through the air and smashed into the cave wall. Pharynx immediately turned on the nocnica and began yelling. “You call yourself scary, you lame cephalopod rip-off? I’ve given my little brother worse nightmares by accident! You’re less scary than a cotton ball! The Feelings Forum would laugh at you! Chrysalis made her puppet shows more terrifying! If I saw you in a fever dream, I’d ask who hired the clown!”
The nocnica took a moment longer to respond than it should have. “Oh-ho, lookit you,” it sneered. “Another one of those kids who thinks that a few nasty words can have me running for the hills.” It traced a tentacle over Pharynx’s face; he didn’t budge an inch. “Tell me, young’un, what do you think I am?”
“Tonight? You’re my prey.” And Pharynx’s predator mind began racing.
Most of the real-world threats to the Hive were punchable, but every now and then, he’d faced something magical with less substance than air. For those monsters, it was a matter of (generally painful) trial-and-error to figure out what it drew strength from and subvert that. He already knew what nocnice drew strength from: fear, despair, bad feelings like those. As long as those were around, it could rip certain aspects of the dream out of his control. He just needed to get rid of the pony’s fear of the nocnica.
Well. The fear could still be around; the nocnica simply couldn’t be the source of that fear. Which meant…
Pharynx marched out to the pony, a battle axe of pure fury coalescing across his shoulders. Nice. Strong. Weighty. It’d sting like the dickens. The nocnica was saying something, but he ignored it. After all the changes in the Hive, he had mastered the art of ignorance. He wrenched the pony to her hooves and pressed his muzzle to hers. “Hello,” he said, his breath hot and damp on the pony’s face.
“W-w-who are you?” whispered the pony.
“I’m your guardian demon,” Pharynx said. He forced the axe into the pony’s hooves. “You will face down that eldritch horror and you will not be scared. Do you know why? Because if you’re scared, I will find you. It doesn’t matter where you are, I’ll be watching. Outside your window, even if you live in a penthouse. Under your bed, once I take care of all the monsters down there. Inside the walls themselves. Somewhere. Watching. If you’re scared, I will mess you up, pony. I will mess you up.” When he grinned, he wasn’t entirely surprised to feel his fangs were back.
The entire dream wobbled and Pharynx suddenly had the distinct feeling that he was the center of attention. It was a feeling he recognized well, whether he walked into a room and everyone started whispering to each other about him behind his back or he beat down a chimera and everyone was awestruck by him. He was worthy of more attention than the nocnica. And he was… bleeding. Sweating? Oozing. He could actually feel himself exuding menace, rendering the pony terrorstruck. Which meant the nocnica wasn’t rendering the pony terrorstruck.
He glanced at the nocnica. It looked a great deal less alien-geometric and a great deal more regular-octopoidal.
The pony suddenly charged forward, wildly swinging the axe and screaming the war cry of the cornered. She buried the axe in the nocnica’s face; maybe not something that normally would’ve hurt it, but the lack of fear in the nocnica behind the act was more important than the act itself. The nocnica keened in pain as the pony wrenched the axe out and swung again.
Oh, what the hay. Maybe it was better if the dreamer handled it all on her own, but Pharynx was having a bad two weeks and could use some catharsis. He pulled another axe from the air and introduced the nocnica to it, heartily and at high speed. It felt surprisingly exhausting, but that was probably just the way his mind interpreted the mental effort. Still, it was satisfying. He swung again; more tiredness, more satisfaction. Why did ponies never understand the thrill of a good, solid whack?
His next swing misted through the nocnica as it fled. Within moments, the dream was lighter and more malleable. Perfect. Pharynx eyed the dreamer; she was breathing heavily but seemed in control of herself. Then she noticed he was looking at her and twitched back. “Did…” She swallowed. “Did I do it?” she whispered.
“You did. I am appeased,” rumbled Pharynx.
“Great,” squeaked the pony. “I’ll just-”
Suddenly, she slid into a hot tub and a brick wall fell into the space between them. Pharynx glanced at Moondog; she was flicking her wing through the air, trailing sparks as it went. She wasn’t even looking at him, instead watching where the nocnica had gone. “Ooo. Interesting. Not the method I would’ve used, but-”
Pharynx’s rage boiled up again and he whirled on her. Without thinking, he lunged for her, dream magic giving him more of an oomph than usual, and chokeslammed her to the ground. Muzzle to muzzle, his wings twitching spasmodically, he roared, “I need you to teach me! NOW!”
Moondog raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“Yes! I don’t care how annoyingly upbeat it is, the Hive matters just as much to me as Equestria does to you! And you’re- just- You’re making every lame excuse to avoid teaching me, and I don’t care if you’re anxious, you will tell me what you know or I’m telling on you!”
“No, I mean… is all that necessary?” And Moondog pointed at where the nocnica had been. “Because you seem to be doing alright.”
“I-!” Pharynx looked around them. No nocnice. Because of him. Right? He blinked and jammed his face in Moondog’s again. She wasn’t going to get off that easy. “You-!”
“Me-!” said Moondog. She laughed. “Look, Pharynx. I don’t need to teach you because you already taught yourself. I heard a bit about you from Ocellus and you strike me as the kind of guy who wants to do things himself just to be sure he does them right. And you know the way you want to do things, so I figured that you learning things on your own would be better. You do your best work when angry, so… Yeah.” Pharynx’s hoof suddenly fell straight through her body and hit the floor below as she turned insubstantial. “Think about it. You can sculpt dreams. You can leave dreams. And you can beat the tar out of nocnice — psychologically and physically! That’s ninety-five percent of what’s teachable right there. Everything else…” She shrugged. “That depends on the dreamer.”
Pharynx breathed deeply, but he couldn’t bring himself to snarl. He wanted to feel like he’d been used — somehow — but he’d never been one to sit and listen to lectures. He liked doing things, like capturing intruders or screaming threats at them until they ran away in fear. Moondog’s method of “teaching” was probably the best way he could’ve been taught. How would it have been done otherwise? With a textbook to read every night? Homework and tests? He couldn’t sit still long enough to take a test to save his life. (Someone else’s life, maybe…) But that wasn’t a guarantee that throwing him into the pool meant he would learn to swim. “And… And if I hadn’t figured out how to come here?” he asked, pulling his leg out of her body.
With an eyeroll, Moondog said, “Of course I would’ve stepped if it looked like you couldn’t do it by yourself. But that first night, you managed to put together a message and send it off to me based on pure bullheadedness, so…” She smiled and flowed back up into a standing position. “I figured you could handle it. I’ll still be around if you need help in the future, although you might want to ask Mom, too. I bet she’ll be pretty bored after a few weeks of retirement.”
Hrm. How was he supposed to do that? Just dreamwalk up to Luna and go, Hey, ex-Princess, I need your help? Yeah, no. Not right now, at least. Maybe in the future, when he’d adjusted to her no longer being the literal person who literally moved the literal moon and all. All that baggage made… a bit of a psychological roadblock. “I’ll think about it,” he said vaguely.
“Alrighty then.” Moondog wiped her hooves together. “Since the jig is up, you got any questions for me? Anything you want to know before you actually start guarding?”
“No.” What was he supposed to ask, anyway? He didn’t know what, if anything, he was doing wrong. “I… think I’m ready.”
“Great! Oh, and, uh, one last thing.” Moondog smiled sweetly. “If you even think about harassing ponies in their dreams, every night will be your own personal Tartarus for the rest of your life.”
Pharynx blinked.
A brief pause, and Moondog barked out a laugh. “I’m kidding!” she said, clapping him across the back. Then, grinning, she turned to face him, her teeth suddenly quite sharp. “I am absolutely not kidding,” she growled saccharinely. “At all. Don’t touch my little ponies.”
Another pause, then it was Pharynx’s turn to laugh. “Ha!” he said. “Finally someone takes me seriously.”
“Of course. You did manage to pull yourself from ‘total novice’ to ‘semi-adequate dreamwalker’ in like two weeks. Nice job on that, by the way! You’re one of the few people I can take seriously when it comes to dreams. There was this one guy a while back… Eh, never mind, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”
Maybe he would, but Pharynx didn’t care. No matter what he felt like regarding his skills, if one of the world’s top dreamers said he was ready, then he was ready. Funny that not ten minutes ago he’d been waiting to prepare to learn to be ready. Should he mark this in some way? It felt right. “I. Thank you for… helping me, Duchess.” The words sounded strange in his mouth. He bowed slightly, continuing, “I won’t let you down.”
“Course you won’t. Gotta get going, but give me a jolt if you need me. Promise I’ll help you for real this time. And every other time, for that matter.” Moondog saluted. “Adios, señor.” She folded up like origami and vanished.
Pharynx wasn’t the type to revel in his victory; he had to be sure he had earned it. He poked at the fabric of the dream, found the edge of subreality again, pulled it apart in the right way (it was almost as easy as before), and slipped out. Literally slipped, since he faceplanted on nothing in the collective unconscious. Nothing didn’t have a lot of traction. But he was so satisfied that he didn’t even bother getting up and instead reoriented everything else so that he was rightside up anyway. Time for some dream guarding.
First: where was the Hive? Going from his dream to the pony’s, it seemed like he just needed to focus on his destination, so… He focused on the Hive, on its inhabitants, on how great and murky it all was, and stepped forward. The doors around him shifted, pulling themselves out of or into existence. Doors he recognized; that one was Termen’s, that one was Cornicle’s, that one was Gula’s, that one was Thorax’s…
He ripped open Thorax’s door and tumbled through into a room that resembled one in the changeling hive. Thorax was standing at an easel, happily painting a changeling. Meaning he had a picture of a changeling before him and was painting the air to make a real changeling.
Pharynx grinned. He had the basics down; now he could apply them to patrolling. He knew patrolling, and doing it around little mental pocket dimensions couldn’t be that different from the real world, right? Thorax didn’t need any help, though. Pharynx turned around and wiggled open a hole back out of the dream.
Although…
He glanced over his shoulder at Thorax and his painting. His happy, happy, happy painting. Well, he could indulge his dream powers once. Once.
Thorax met him outside the barracks the next morning. “Pharynx?” he asked blearily. “Are you making any progress? Because…” He massaged his head between his antlers. “I had this really weird dream last night where every dragon in Equestria captured me and gave me a noogie. I don’t know if it had anything to do with nocnice or not, but I’d really like you to get on the whole dream protector thing so it doesn’t happen again.”
“Moondog taught me well,” said Pharynx. “Trust me, you won’t have that dream again.”
Once.
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Heh.
HEH!
HA!
Aww yeah, it's best bug boi!
That's some serious big bro vibes right there.
.... Once. Once he says. I have a feeling that buggy dream pranks are going to be a thing between those two...
moondog did say not to mess with her ponies
Oh Pharynx, I can’t blame you. There has to be a payoff for thankless duties after all, and making agonisingly cheerful optimists endure weird dreams is a fair reward.
Wow. I sorta got Moondog's plan after a little while. And given his progression, I thought he was gonna make his own Oneriomantic Golems, but no... But it seems like he eventually could.
Mmm.
Hehe. Dream prank.
So, either Nocnice aren't infesting tons of Changeling dreams, because they're happy... Or they are and hiding, or something... Hmm...
The Feelings Forum likely helps keep them at bay?
Yep. Brothers be like that.
Pharynx is the best.
Ohmygawd, that last part. LOL
This is one of my favorite series, just fyi!! So much fun and so accurately reflects the characters your write about! Thank you for sharing with us!
Okay, that was an amazingly fun read! Very well done!
That was disgustingly obvious from the very beginning.
Plus i certainly sure that neither Luna nor Moondog can be capable of affecting dreams of other races.
Otherwise Luna could have defeated all Equestrian enemies by herself long time ago.
Bounce. (Ashleigh Ball.)
Bounce. (Royal ball.)
🎵 Some don't wait for no-one
So my heart and my time I refuse to waste 🎵
Looks like Moondog is borrowing her aunt's teaching method. :D
I do love Pharynx getting into fiction as a form of socially acceptable lie.
Pharynx made a mental note to sort out pronouns at some point. Then he made a physical note of the same, because he could.
It's always a delight to see someone else use "Namepending Castle." This is what happens when you never officially name the place, Twilight.
Which implies that x unicorns working together build power as a function of 10x, provided they're willing to burn themselves out in the process.
The honey badger didn't give a buck. Ironic, given the game.
The buckyball is very impressive. Was it macroscopic, or was Pharynx just tracking with nonvisual senses.
And then Pharynx was Brain Wolf.
Fantastic closing moment, and story in general. It was clear what Moondog was doing, but the execution was great. And we've got another member of the Dream Patrol! Looking forward to the next installment.
this was featured
There are times I wish I could thumbsup a fic more than once. This one produces an astounding number of them
10723873
Once a story has been featured, it always appears in the last three of the feature box when it updates.
10723741
Defeated? More like "Gave them a reason to attempt extermination" if you ask me. One thing if a ruler of your own land can get into your head if they so please. It's bad, but if you trust them, it can be passable. But when someone completely unaffiliated does it, its even worse.
So yeah, I'd imagine it'd be a lot of extra work for total negative of gratitude. Thus Luna just let everycreature think she can't enter the dreams of other species.
Now I'm feeling silly. Literally everyone [in the comments] saw that coming, but not me?
Granted, the chapter is written from Pharynx's POV and I didn't try to break the immersion, so that's sort of his fault?
Already establishing him as a great character
That's... probably fair
agreed
Hard to say. It's pretty well defended against a ground assault with only one main entrance and all the overhangs allowing attacks from above. Depending on the number and size of balconies and windows could have decent longevity against aerial assaults. Siege weapons and warcasters would probably be an issue, though. As well as sappers, especially diamond dogs or dragons.
Spoken like a beleaguered sibling
Given the nonsensical nature of dreams, sounds about right.
Who'll be the one doing the pointing and laughing?
Which is why Luna is best princess
Taking a page from Bugs Bunny I see
Good tulpa
rabid mustelids to the face solves many of life's problems
Just like how you met Starlight and Trixie
This guy gets it
I'll take badass one-liners for $300, please
Even if it was effective, still a dickish way to go about it
Aww, Pharynx made a friend
He's already mastered the orientation
Indulging yourself at your siblings expense is the eldest's prerogative.
I wonder if Pharynx being on the Dream Team will convince Tempest to join up.
As usual, loving this fic.XD
Did Pharynx just learn Trolling 101?
It's not even a castle. It's just a palace. The changeling hive is a castle.
10723973 Got you covered. (Turns out I hadn't thumbs-upped it yet,)
10724021
She never hidden whether she can.
Did Moondog really just hit Pharynx with the old 'wax on, wax off' trick? Because I love it!
Only Pharynx would think of it that way. I love it.
Still haven't come to a conclusion, eh, Twilight?
Aw, but that's why we love him!
Badum tss.
Honey badger don't care. It's just cray-zee.
10724071
Arise, Sir Loin of Beef!
Ooh, new chapter!
Figured out what she was doing on the second skipped day, but it was still very interesting to see him progress.
Big brothers, em I right?~
Well done, Moondog. And well done, Pharynx.
This captures the essence of what being a big brother is like.
So she really has been teaching him like that
I was not at all surprised that those excuses were part of his training given how ell he made progress on his own and his character. The part at end was also funny.
10723488
If Thorax learned maybe. Otherwise, it just wouldn't feel fair.
And so the Dream Guard: Changeling Division was formed!
Heh. Nice chapter. and that sure is one way to teach Pharynx. Probably the best way actually. I suspect and hope that if it came to it Pharynx would help Luna and Moondog and vice versa if it came to it.
10723741
Pretty sure they are capable of such it's just they don't want to be seen as overstepping their bounds so limit themselves to beings within Equestria's borders unless they are ponies.
One may wonder if a simpler language would be the dominant one if
EnglandEquestria hadn't conquered most of the world.....
........
Does...
Does the pond work on her?
...
That's both intriguing and terrifying.
The most exhilarating the outcome, the more quick the decision, I guess
And this, kid, is how the legend of BUGeyman began
Sweet Celestia every chapter of this story is just.....so good.
Will Moondog ever meet the original Thantabus?
That will probably be some crazy family time.
Great chapter! And it's interesting to see that so many creatures are figuring out dream magic—Moondog isn't going to have to handle everything by herself, at this rate, even if an official group working for her doesn't form. Pharynx learning has to be my favorite instance yet, though—seeing him learn and master things through sheer spite is great to read. And Moondog acting in a way to encourage that rage, spite, and learning? Wonderful.
Looking forward to future chapters!
Not cool, Moondog. It's one thing to decide that Pharynx would make his own best teacher; it's another thing to use lies as a motivator. I'd have given you another punch instead of a thank you.
Hehe thid chapter was great. Abs of course moon dog knee just how to train him
I feel like this story is gradually building toward an Avengers of the dream realm. Someday, many chapters from now, there will be an epic battle for the fate of the subconscious itself.
This was perfect!!!
Isn't that kinda exactly how he got his prior knowledge?
(Now) no longer?
Loved every letter of this. Pharynx is a gem.
10728367
Well we have 6 members for the Avengers now. Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle, Meadow, Pharynx, Ocellus and Moondog. That's a good matchup right there.
This chapter is a slow-warmer. The part where Pharynx grows to love reading is kinda lackluster, I think it might be better to just chop it off... But the ending made up for the whole performance. 6/10
I liked how Moondog let Pharynx figure out how to learn dream magic by himself. Also, I loved the last part of the chapter.
10751700
I get why you thought it was slow--I did too, at first, as I waited for Moondog to help Pharynx--but about the time Moondog complimented Pharynx's mountain, I figured out what was going on and the dramatic irony just built and built until that Nocnica fight. Great ride, in my opinion.