• Published 29th Mar 2019
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The Archetypist - Cold in Gardez



I knew there would be trouble when Discord started asking about dreams. He just wanted to make them better, he said. More interesting. In a way he was right – in a very terrible way that we must stop, before it is too late.

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Chapter 3

I straightened my notes into distinct piles, sorted by subject, and sat back with a frown. The papers frowned back, if papers could be said to frown – at least, they weren’t being helpful. That stung. I’d never been betrayed by paper before.

“So, inconclusive, then?” Starlight Glimmer asked. She settled on a cushion near the bookshelves, a steaming mug of early morning coffee floating beside her. The rich, brown scent of another cup teased my nostrils, and I turned to see my “World’s Best Librarian and Top Four Princess” mug settle onto the table beside the papers.

Starlight Glimmer was a great student. I lifted the mug and took a careful sip.

“It’s too subjective,” I said. “Some ponies I’ve talked to report unusual dreams, others say they’re not sure. Then there’s ponies like you and me, who don’t remember much about our dreams anyway. Who knows?”

“Best guess, then?”

“Best guess is that nothing happened.” I walked away from the table to the cushions by the bookshelf and slumped next to Starlight, who scooched over to make room. She took her showers in the evening rather than the morning, and the scent of bed linens and sweat and candle wicks clung to her. “Whatever Discord is trying to do, he failed. Or the results are so subtle there’s no way to tell if it’s doing anything.”

“Maybe dreams really are out of his league,” she said. “Luna always struck me as a jealous master.”

“She’s not bad. She’s just… very intense, sometimes. Very dedicated. And if that’s keeping ponies’ dreams safe from Discord’s meddling, then it’s not a bad thing at all, is it?”

Starlight opened her mouth to respond, but it was another voice that filled the library. Deep, masculine and oily. And more annoyed than I’d ever heard it before.

“Meddling, you call it,” Discord said. His voice oozed out from between the covers of the books on the shelves, and he followed, dripping out scale by claw by horn until the whole of him flowed down the shelf in a thin film of draconequus. He puddled on the floor behind the cushion, then reared up, complete, and wrapped an arm around each of our shoulders. “More like… improving!”

I snapped away with a teleport over to the table by my notes and glared at him. Starlight just rolled her eyes at his antics and leaned against his bulk.

“Hello, Discord,” she said. “Were your ears burning? We were just talking about you.”

“I assume that a great number of ponies are talking about me at any given time,” he said. “After all, what else is there to talk about? The weather? So boring. Nothing interesting ever falls out of the skies these days.”

“We were talking about how you’ve failed to modify the dreamscape in any appreciable fashion,” I said. I fluffed the notes with my magic, more as a prop than to demonstrate anything with them. “I’ve interviewed dozens of ponies since we spoke, and there’s no evidence you’ve managed to change a single thing.”

“Oh, we’re relying on evidence, now?” He waved a paw. “This is why nothing invites you to parties, Sparky.”

Starlight jabbed him with an elbow. “Be nice.”

“I am nice. Also, hello again, Glimmy. How’s Tricks?”

“Good.” Starlight’s face relaxed into a smile. “She’s bringing her wagon back around to Ponyville in a few days. You should come by and visit.”

“I’m sure I can do that. Now, what’s this about doubting my abilities?”

“Not doubting, it’s just… we…“ She shrugged. “Well, maybe a little doubting.”

“You shouldn’t doubt your friends,” he said. “Soon you’ll be as suspicious as old Applejack, never trusting a word I say.”

That just proved how sensible Applejack was. I wondered, for a moment, what sort of dreams she had. Probably wholesome, family-filled things. “So, you’re giving up this foolishness with dreams?”

“Oh, on the contrary.” He snapped his fingers and reappeared across the table from me, wearing pyjamas and one of those floppy conical hats with a puffy ball at the tip. “I realized, I think, what the problem was. You can’t just change archetypes, not even Luna can do that. After all, what are archetypes? They are simply stories ponies all agree to dream about, because ponies all live the same boring, similar lives. You’re all afraid of the dark, so you all dream about it too. And death, and sex, and all those other little animal things.”

“Everypony is unique in her own special way,” I shot back. “Part of growing up is learning to appreciate what makes us different.”

“Oh, to you, I’m sure.” He waved his lion’s paw. Its claws were ratty and burred. “I’ll bet crows can tell each other apart, but they’re all the same to me. This pony, that pony, only the colors are different. There’s only a few of you who are really interesting.” He ended with a grin in Starlight’s direction, which she did not return.

“Is that how you feel about Fluttershy?” she asked.

His leering expression softened, and something like a real smile replaced it. “Fluttershy is one of the special ones, even if her dreams are a little… ordinary. But I can help her with that! I can help all of you!”

“You tried that already,” I said. “You failed. We went over this.”

“No, I failed because I tried the wrong thing. I tried changing your archetypes, but that’s pointless. Archetypes are the the sea in which our dreams swim, and trying to change everypony’s dreams by altering the archetypes? That’s like changing the ocean and expecting new fish to appear.”

“Should I be concerned that you’re comparing ponies to fish, now?”

He snorted. “Fish are a promotion, Sparky. Ponies are like ants to me.” He reached out, quicker than I could react, and plucked a tiny covert feather from my wing. “Soon enough they will be to you, too. You should start taking notes from Celestia.”

“Discord…” Starlight growled. Even I could hear the warning in her voice. “We talked about this.”

“Fine, fine. Shoot the messenger, why don’t you?” A crossbow appeared out of thin air in front of Starlight, then clattered onto the floor and fired with a loud twang. The bolt vanished off into the distant library stacks with the muffled thud of something heavy striking a book. He leaned over me, close enough that I could smell him. Like licorice and starlight, still. “Back to the topic at hand, dreams! I had the most wonderful idea, you two. A way to spice them up for real, this time. Give ponies something to really look forward to when they go to sleep.”

I leaned back. “And how’s that? Change the fish?”

“Not quite. Let the fish change themselves.” He giggled that unhinged giggle of his, then raised his eagle-claw and snapped his talons.

Time froze. Colors washed away from the world, leaving a silhouette-scape of black and white. For a long moment the only sound was the thud-thud-thud of my heart hammering in my chest. The stale air choked me, filling my lungs like cotton, and just as my chest began to catch fire, time returned in a rush.

I gasped for breath and slumped on the table. A few feet away, Starlight shook herself, a puzzled expression on her face.

“What… what just happened?” she asked.

“Something wonderful, Glimmy!” Discord threw his arms wide in celebration. “I cut your dreams loose! No more archetypes anymore, you can dream whatever you want! Anything your beautiful little ant brains invent, you can dream it now! Oh, I can’t wait to see how tonight goes!”

He threw his head back to laugh. His whole body rose into the air, like steam over a boiling pot, and vanished. Only his laughter remained, echoing for long seconds after his departure.

I coughed. A tiny lavender covert feather, little more than a ball of fluff, expelled itself from my throat and fluttered down onto the table. I scowled at it.

“Starlight,” I said with a rough voice. “Make some more coffee. We have research to do.”

* * *

Several hours later and the same table was filled with propped-open books and reams of notes. In the center of the table we’d cleared a wide space and laid out a dozen note cards, with room for more.

With nothing else to go on, we’d started with archetypes. There was no comprehensive list of them, and the very concept wasn’t even universally accepted by philosophers or psychologists, much less real scientists. They were just a catchy theory with the benefit of being impossible to disprove. Heck, dream research had been dormant for nearly a thousand years before Luna’s return, and even today there were only a hoofful of researchers investigating the subject with her assistance. All this? All these notes and books and suppositions floating in my head? They were just conjecture.

Conjecture was great when it lead to new discoveries. But conjectures about dreams? Good luck researching that. There was nothing to measure! I scowled at the array of notecards for not the first time that afternoon.

Starlight was the more enthusiastic of us. Of course, she’d always been an expert on how ponies’ minds worked, even if her use of that expertise hadn’t always been for the best purposes. But she understood how ponies thought in ways that I didn’t. She was comfortable swimming in that murky zone between hard science and art. She could work with the flesh.

“So, this is what we’ve got so far,” Starlight said. She was floating over the table, wrapped in a field of her own magic. “A dozen or so archetypes. Concepts that appear in literature and art across pony civilizations, from thousands of years ago until today, regardless of language or geographical distance. The self, the shadow, the animus, the wise old stallion, the innocent child, the hero, the virgin and the trickster. Oh, and they keep appearing in dreams.”

She tapped each card as she spoke. On them we’d scribbled a few notes and doodles gleaned from the academic journals scattered all over the library.

“So, theory one,” I said. “Archetypes never existed or they have no special significance. Nothing Discord is doing will matter, in that case, and we can stop worrying and go get some lunch.”

That was my favorite theory. Especially the lunch part. Hayburgers were calling my name.

“Theory two,” Starlight said. “Archetypes do exist, and they play some important role in pony cultures. But to undo the archetypes, Discord would have to change how we dream, or the things we dream about. We should skip lunch and keep researching.”

Did I say Starlight was a great student? I didn’t mean it. My stomach growled.

Still… “If we embrace theory two and we’re wrong, we lose nothing but lunch,” I said. “If we embrace theory one and we’re wrong, all pony civilization may collapse. Risk analysis suggests we should go with theory two.”

Starlight grinned at me. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

I leaned on the table to peer down at the notecards. The ‘trickster’ card happened to be closest, and I scowled at it. Little question in my mind about why ponies throughout the ages had dreamed of such a spirit.

“What was it Discord said?” I asked. “No more archetypes; he was cutting our dreams loose? What does that actually mean?”

Starlight floated back down beside me. “If archetypes exist, and if they somehow bind ponies dreams, then we’re now… unbound, I suppose. Free to dream of anything.”

That didn’t sound so bad. And anyway, dreams were just dreams. Chaotic reflections of our thoughts, nothing more. They never hurt anypony. I stared at the cards in silence for a while, until finally Starlight cleared her throat.

“So, what now?”

I sighed. “I think we go visit an expert.”

* * *

“Greetings, Twilight Sparkle!” Luna said as Starlight Glimmer and I walked into the princess’s quarters in Canterlot. It was late afternoon now, following an hour-long train ride from Ponyville, and I’d had to exert my executive privilege to convince the guards outside that letting me see Luna was a national emergency worth waking her for.

“Hello, Luna. Thank you for seeing us so—”

“Of course!” She swooped forward, wrapping the two of us in her huge wings and bullying us over to a nice little table by the fire, where a tea set and cups were already laid out. “I was delighted when the guards woke me up hours early and told me that I had visitors! Why, I’m not even awake yet, and already my day has started well!”

You know how some ponies can be sarcastic, but their delivery is so dry it’s impossible to tell if they’re being sarcastic? Luna was like that. Starlight glanced at me, her eyes wide. I just shrugged.

“We wouldn’t have come if it weren’t important,” I said. “Remember that thing I asked about the other week? With Discord?”

“Ah, yes.” She settled us down at the cozy little table and poured out three cups of jasmine tea. Sitting there, she loomed over Starlight and me like a filly at a tea party for her dolls. “Did he fail, as I had predicted?”

I’d prepared an entire dossier of research for Luna, filled with notes and charts and page upon page of reference material. In that moment, I made the decision to skip it. “Basically, yes. But apparently that just encouraged him to try something new. Have you ever heard of archetypes?”

Luna was silent for a moment, and I could see the thoughts spinning behind her eyes. “Archetypes? I know the word, yes. It refers to common literary figures?”

“Yes, but that’s not all,” I said. I opened my saddlebags and pulled out one of the best texts Starlight and I had found in our research, an academic journal in the budding field of onieromancy. I figured Luna could relate to that. I opened it to a bookmarked page and passed it across the table.

Luna lifted the journal and began flipping through it. She paused, occasionally, turning back a page, only to resume after a few moments of silent consideration. Finally, as our tea was growing cold and Starlight was starting to fidget, she put the journal down.

“I see. Archetypes in dreams. An interesting concept. It’s amazing what theories ponies developed to explain the night while I was gone.”

“Discord said he cut us loose from them,” Starlight said. “He thinks it will make us dream more interesting things. Or novel things, at least.”

“He just wants to cause chaos,” I said. “Anything that scares ponies, makes them panic, that’s all he wants.”

“Well, he’s going to have to keep trying, then.” Luna set her hooves on the table and leaned forward, looming over us. “There are no mystical, invisible chains binding ponies’ dreams together. These… archetypes are an interesting theory, but they possess no objective reality. There is no mould from which your dreams are cast. Every pony creates their own.”

“Then why do they feel like they exist?” I asked. “Why do so many ponies dream about the same things?”

Luna lifted her tea and took a sip. Apparently she didn’t mind it cold. “Why do so many unicorns dream that their horns are missing, you mean? Why do earth ponies dream of falling? Because those are subconscious fears they all share. Ponies dream of similar things because ponies share certain traits, desires and anxieties. It’s the same reason the dreams of stallions and mares differ.”

I blinked. “What do stallions dream of?”

Luna grinned at me. Her teeth seemed a bit sharper than usual – the full moon must’ve been due. “You should ask them yourself, Twilight Sparkle. If they trust you, they’ll tell you. Who knows, you might even gain something more in the process.”

Subtle, Luna wasn’t. Starlight giggled behind her hoof. I coughed and took a sip of the cool tea to hide my blush. “Right. So, what can Discord actually accomplish? Can he just—” I mimed snapping my claws, though with a hoof the gesture was somewhat lacking, “—and change our dreams?”

She shook her head. “Dreams are reborn with every night. He can’t change them because they don’t exist until we call them into existence with our slumbering minds. He thinks he has cut you loose from these ‘archetypes,’ but they are nothing more than shadows. I fear Discord is due for another disappointment.”

“Oh.” Starlight sniffed at her tea, then pushed it and its saucer away. “So we’re worried about nothing?”

“It’s always appropriate to worry about Discord and his antics,” Luna said. She glanced down at Starlight’s teacup, then reached out with the tip of her wing to scoop a tiny flame out of the fireplace. It danced along the edge of her feathers, and she dropped it into Starlight’s cup, where it vanished with a hiss and rush of steam. “I recall you have some personal experience with him?”

Starlight eyed the teacup, then lifted it and took a sip. “Yes, he’s a friend. I’m sure, whatever he thinks he’s doing, he means well. He just sees things different from us sometimes.”

“Well, you can relax, then.” Luna said. “Ponies’ dreams are beyond his power to change. He’ll realize this, I’m sure, and something else will come along to catch his interest. So it goes with Discord. Now, if you’ll forgive me, the night beckons. I trust you can find your way out.”

So saying, Luna stood. Her wings stretched wide, wider than the room, encompassing all of my vision with her beautiful indigo darkness. She smiled again, and this time there was no mistaking the sharp points of her fangs. Shadows welled out from her, flooding the room, embracing us, and then all my vision was lost.

When I opened my eyes, Starlight and I sat at Luna’s cozy little tea table by the fire in her quarters. Of the dark princess, there was no sign. We might have dreamed of meeting her.