Diary of an Aspiring Tyrant

by SugarPesticide

Entry Twenty-Nine

September 20, 1000 ANM

In the previous entry, I stated that “the world of dreams was calling me.” Evidently I have achieved a level of foresight that borders on the prophetic. In truth, over the course of the night before this, I dreamed a terrible and wonderful dream. At the least, I suppose it could be called a dream to mortals, who have never quite understood the difference between what is imaginable and what could be real.

I stood there in the midst of the Dreamscape. It is, under ordinary circumstances, a marvelous place; but it was clear that it had fallen into disrepair over the course of a thousand years. Where once there stood a rippling globe of a substance like diamond, there was now naught but a landscape of jagged shards like glass. Where the sky met the fog I could not tell, for both were an impenetrable black haze that shimmered faintly with an eldritch glow whose source I could not determine. Not a hint of a star or a planet could be seen hanging overhead.

In all, it was not a sense of desolation that I was entirely unfamiliar with. While attempting to gauge my surroundings, I began to wonder. How could this once lovely place have fallen so far from its lofty status? Once this was a place of beauty and wonder. Then I remembered that once, in desperation, I had turned to a demon for guidance, which may not have been entirely beneficial to the power the Dreamscape runs on. Well, such foalishness is something of the past. Perhaps, now that I have been freed from my curse, I may heal this land of the lunacy that has broken it? I suppose only time will tell.

I took a tentative step, then another, and another still, and each time there was a crunch of shards beneath my hoof. Such was the only noise I could hear; aside from that, utter silence reigned. Yet there was a hint of voices echoing in the back of my mind, emanating from the silence like a chorus of lost souls that sought to play havoc on my own. When I strained to concentrate, I thought I could hear them cry, “Save us!”

And I whispered, “No.” For I would not risk myself on the chance that one of these might be a truly damned dreamer; such was the nature of how I first encountered the Nightmare. I shall repair my mistakes in their own due time, and all shall praise me for it.

I am not certain how much time I spent walking. Time in the Dreamscape is a strange thing, dilating and contracting like the pupil of the universe. It may have been days; it may have been seconds. And of course, considering how long it had been in the physical world paved the path to madness. In any case, eventually I came across a Dream.

There was little to forewarn me of his coming. He simply swooped out of the fog, and for the first time in a millennium I viewed his form. Dreams, of course, are as liquid in nature as the land they dwell in was before my indiscretion, and this one appeared to me as an ice-blue phoenix. With a flurry of feathers he descended to perch upon my horn, which I reacted to with considerable amusement. How he could sit there comfortably was a mystery for time itself to unravel, but if it pleased him, I would let the matter be.

“Princess,” he croaked. “It has been literal ages since you last arrived.”

“What an astute observation. There is little telling what I would do without your worthy information. But tell me, my good Dream, how may I save this land from itself? I wish to atone for my errors, and this appears to be a worthy cause indeed.”

“I am afraid that there is no solution,” he said gravely. “Nightmare Moon shaped the Dreamscape into her own image. We do what we can to shield the ponies from the horrors she has wrought, but I fear our power is insufficient.”

I twitched at this news. Nevertheless, I replied, “Such is a worthy goal. I wish to thank you and your brethren for your selfless service in these matters.”

He shook his head. “It is rather unlikely that the other Dreams are as pleased you have come as I am. Some of them have … suffered, to put it lightly. Still, I can direct you to the Matriarch, if you like.”

“I would,” I agreed. “I shall take the utmost care. Present me to your Matriarch.”

With a nod, he gestured forward with a fluffy wing, and I stepped out into the fog.

The Dreamscape twisted, and for a moment I was falling without moving. Then the world righted itself, and I stood in a place where the fog had cleared enough for me to see a monstrous throne made of broken glass. There lay reclining on it a worm-like creature, sickly white in color, grotesque in her enormity, bearing a thousand claws and a terrible stinger. Her head was shaped vaguely like that of a unicorn, though it bore no mane. She scrutinized me with eight shining eyes, and upon my approach she straightened herself with an unreadable expression.

“Princess Luna,” she said in a rasping voice. “I am Evral, Matriarch of the Dreams. Why have you trespassed upon the land which you destroyed?”

“One cannot be blamed for incidents in which one did not possess full faculties,” I replied, trying not to stare into that hypnotic gaze. “You know there are monsters lurking in the Dreamscape which even we cannot fathom. Allow me to rectify my mistake.”

“But you consented to the union with the Nightmare, didn’t you?” Her pincers clicked as she spoke, and the sound bounced against the broken glass in ringing echoes. “No, Luna. I cannot risk the well-being of my Dreams on a figurehead who will allow demons to wield tyranny like a sword.”

I bit my lip, but my reply on the genuine nature of tyranny was cut off before I could begin.

“If I could object, my Matriarch,” said the Dream upon my horn, spreading his wings in an elaborate bow. “Her first — no, her only concern is the welfare of the Dreamscape and its inhabitants. She expressed quite plainly her desire to set right what once went wrong. If you might allow a humble Dream such as myself to speak, I believe we should give her a chance.”

“Be that as it may,” the Matriarch said sternly, “I can hold no love for the Scourge of the Dreamscape. Depart now, Luna, before my patience dies. That is all I can allow, considering the terrible fate of millions of my subjects at your bloody hooves.”

“I am not Nightmare Moon,” I said firmly, drawing myself as tall as I could allow. “Her madness was mine, but not what passes for her soul. Nor am I entirely to blame for this apocalyptic waste. My sins extend to an overzealousness for glory. Nevertheless, I am willing to rebuild what remains into its former glory, that the Dreams may—”

“Your selfishness has destroyed everything!” Suddenly she was leaning down, close enough for spittle to splatter against my face and for the shine of teeth to blind me. “The subjects I love, the land I love … everything I have ever loved is ruined, thanks to you! I hope you enjoy the world of waking, you mewling quim, for you are no longer welcome in the Dreamscape! If I ever see you again, I will plant your still-screaming head on a spike and devour it so that you will spend your next millennium begging for death as I digest you! Now begone!”

And with a threatening gesture of her limbs, she sent the Dreamscape shrinking to a pinpoint before me, and I woke up.

How inconsiderate of that Evral creature! To think that she would refuse my help because a slight confidence problem on my part that spun out of control. I have grown past the mare I once was, despite my reduced stature. How dare that Matriarch make threats in response to my offers to assist her!

I must ponder on the matter further. I will, of course, return to the Dreamscape in an effort to extend my help again, but my next excursion will require careful planning before I can attempt it. Evral is vengeful, to say the least; I believe that the sympathetic Dream who spoke in my defense was obliterated in my untimely departure, which makes me question the sincerity of her protective nature. How shall I outsmart this imbecilic insect? I shall have to ask Blueblood’s advice on which course of action I shall take.

Comments

[Psykosis]

Well.

[ForSpite]

... Sadly for Luna's chances of success this is one of the few fics where asking Blueblood for advice is a good idea but not because he's any more competent than canon.

[BlueNinja]

Evral

I see what you did there.

[katarjin]

[quote hear them cry, “Save us!”

And I whispered, “No.” ]moviechopshop.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/03/watchmen20rorschach20newstand.jpg