A Four Letter Word

by RealityDowngrade

First published 23rd of May, 2014

A meek cosplayer is thrust into the position of the Boogey Man with all the powers (and chains) that come with it.

Everyone knows that the bad guy is always cooler than the good guy. In fact, most would agree that, should a bad guy suddenly take up the roll of hero, they would surpass that of their old arch enemy in both deed and glory achieved.

Though, of course, every rule has it's exception. Especially should someone merely get the powers without years of experience wielding them, or even knowing what their full extent even is.

((1) prologue-ish

‘nopleasenopleasenoplease’ The desperate plea continued to repeat even as I tried to focus on sucking as much air into my aching-lungs as I could manage. Low branches whipped across my face but I dared not to close my eyes lest I trip over some upturned root. They were too close. Their erratic flight pattern was the only thing that was keeping those moth-winged terrors and their disturbingly long and curling mouth parts from piercing into me, but the more I ran through the undergrowth one thing was clear, their numbers were still growing.

A forest. I was definitely in a forest. I could tell that much from the twigs and mulch that squelched beneath the thin soles of my boots. Eyes wide, trying to drink in as much of the shadowed-landscape as humanly possible, there had to be a way out, there just had to be a way out. There wasn't supposed to be anything as substantial as a real forest around here. Already the patches of sunlight were growing more and more frequent as the canopy continued to thin out. I had to be getting closer.

A flash of pain burned suddenly above my elbow, the shock of it sending me to leap over a patch of pale blue flowers . 'If one of the fluttering swarm was getting close enough to bite me...' I tried to halt the words, but it was too late, finished or not the image of a thousand thin black-tubes slowly sucking away my blood and organs was there, and it wasn't going away. I could only hope that these things weren't poisonous and that I wasn't just speeding up the process of my own death by running, but the only thing that I continued to feel, besides my aching feet, was the icy-flow of fear that warred with the fire of blood that was jetting through my heart.

It had to be a nightmare, but nightmare or not, sensical or not, I was afraid. The fluted-hissing they made through their straw-like mouths. The way their small, slender legs rasped loudly against themselves as though grabbing at the air to pull themselves through it faster. That each was as big as my head even without the wings. A swarm of flying, hard-bodied moths and butterflies was something that didn't happen in the waking world.

So if it was a dream, and I now recognized it as a dream, then, just like every other dream, I just needed thirty more seconds and I would be awake, and escape from them forever. Just thirty more seconds. I never stayed asleep passed thirty seconds after I realized I was dreaming.

A branch big enough to bowl me over bloomed ahead as I passed a sudden patch of fog, but I bent over, my knuckles nearly brushing the ground as I just managed to avoid the damned thing. Stumbling past my body's attempt to lose speed, I saw a dirt trail, big and well beaten, through the underbrush. Twisting on my heel, I made for the pathway and just seconds up a hill that led to buildings, to safety, just yards away.

Chancing a look back as I broke through some loose bushes, the black-swarm swerving to follow me, it was still just as chillingly-close as it had ever been, hardly losing any speed even as it swerved again reach the path through a break in the trees.

The sudden change from uneven forest to flat dirt road almost made me trip again, but my heart lurched up, throwing me forward even as the rivers of sweat pouring off me threatened to blind my stinging-eyes. But I could see smoke now. Fire. Homes. Help.

I was so close, almost despairing as I felt the ground go slightly muddy beneath me. Another image, one of a sudden storm in the middle of the night turning the dirt road into a quagmire, sucking me in just enough to stop me entirely, an easy meal. But I charge on, if it was this bad here, then I couldn't imagine how bad it would be off the beaten track. I still had to run, still had to get to the rooftops, the city, get help, and wake up!

Cresting the blinding, sun-covered hill, finally free from the tree-line, a whole towns worth of wooden buildings greeted me. I wasn't going to question it, it was a dream, and I was so close. As the path briefly edged around the corner of an odd two-story thatch-roofed house, I almost thought it would be deserted, but the sound talking greeted as I rounded a corner to meet… technicolor-ponies. I fell to a sudden stop, tumbling over myself in my shock, my feet catching in my long black robe, but still having enough breath to cry out, “HELP”, but no one so much as glanced in my direction as I looked up from the dirt. They didn’t so much as blink an eye. An entire market of giant-eyed ponies and no one even acknowledged my existence, not even as the black swarm descended upon me, their legs scrabbling into me, dragging me back to the dark forest even as I uselessly tried to swat them away, screaming in pain as the more eager ones extended their spiraling tongues to pierce into my flesh.

***Hours Earlier***

“Ehh, what-uh-ya think?” I said, doing a quick spin on my toes.

“Dude, you totally pull that off.”

I smiled, glad that my first wholly handmade costume had turned out as well as it had, but let it fall, turning into something devoid of compassion, stooping over like a vulture as I let myself fall into character. I held the predatory-grin for a good three seconds before Andrew honked his clown horn, his all too serious grin making it all the more comical. I wasn’t all that into Homestuck, but hey, he enjoyed it, and it had certainly been a plus having someone who knew how to use grey body paint to add the finishing touches to my cosplay of Pitch Black, The Boogeyman.

“Alright, enough guys, let’s quit fucking around and get to the Con, I’d rather not sweat both my ass and make-up off before I even get inside.”

Andrew sighed, but relented to Ashley’s brash comment, exiting the cool of the hotel to its bus-stop and the heated Chicago-land cityscape as I silently fell in behind.

Ashley's humorous, if slightly disappointing word-choice aside, I was glad I’d decided to join them and my other nerdy delta-star club-mates for Comic Con this summer before my job back home in Texas officially started in the fall when the next training academy would open. They were really the only guys who would even let a spaz fresh outta high school hang out with them on campus, and even after five years worth of learning how to chill, I still didn’t even know half of their names. Not that it mattered, right now, I was here for one thing only: nerd out and have a good time.

***Later, At the Convention Center***

“Jesus fucking Christ, I swear, I’m gonna cosplay as Fiona or Tinkerbell next year cuz I’m never wearing steampunk again, not after this bullshit,” Ashley groaned, somehow managing to frown while chugging a bottle of soda in one hand while the other continued to mop at the sodden hair that fell into her face, her faux-leather jacket having long since been tied to her waist. She, like many of the other more encumbered cosplayers, had been hit pretty hard by the busted A/C units that had just now been replaced after having busted down at ten this morning. A rather lousy first day as far as many a grumbling Predator or Iron Man cosplayer could attest to.

“Ah don’t sweat it,” Andrew grinned with honk of his horn, “besides, now that things are cooling off we should go check out the dealers room. There aren’t any more panels I want to see tonight, and I wanna see if there’s any giant 20-sided die I could pair up my Unhinged Magic deck.”

“Sounds fun,” I said, though Ashley just shook her head and fell even farther into her chair as I followed after Andrew. I’d already been there multiple times already, I'd already bought a few piece of commissioned art-work, but even someone as proficient in speed-browsing myself was hard-pressed to see it all in between the panels and impromptu tournaments that I’d found myself roped into by other Con-goers. A quick walk through the thinning crowds, mostly children due to their oncoming bedtimes, and we hit the dealers room. Seeing Andrew quickly lose himself to his quest to fine the largest die he could purchase, I left him to his own devices and decided to see if I could manage to see the rest of what the dealers room had to offer.

Passing a few steampunk tables with shining gears, watches, and a few creative little clock-work insects and a hat stand that displayed many jester hats that had caught my eye earlier in the day I came across an odd little traffic cone with a paper, taped on, which stated simply: Bazaar.

Wedged between two stands wired display-walls, the small "alley" led around the corner to a display stand canopied by a simple undyed, white tarp with draping red and purple cloths u-ing around the tarp and spiraling down the four support poles, framing the the spread beneath. Weapons from across many a fandom lay upon the lacquered wooden table, most of which I was unfamiliar with, but the Bleach and Link's swords made it a rather obvious.

“Ah, salaam and good day, I see that my humble wares have caught your attention” the booth merchant smiled widely in a heavy Middle Eastern accent as he stood up from his neon-green folding-chair.

“Howdy sir,” I replied, my gaze drifting down to his small, almost pencilish mustache and blue dishdasha secured around his waist with a red sash. I glanced over the table, but nothing really caught my eye besides a few unwieldy and spiky looking pieces of plastic that were no doubt some ultimate weapon in some anime despite the fact they should have been unbalanced to the point of uselessness.

I had just started to lean back to turn on my heel when the merchant said, “Aaah, I see you've only an eye for the exceptionally rare,” and swiftly bent over and brought up with him an item that froze my leg in mid-turn. Pitch’s blackened dream-sand scythe. The snath, smooth for the bottom half of the handle but waving out like cresting waves at the top where the "blade" split in a smooth an elegant curve which was fastened to the rest with a flattened, roiling mass of sand that looked like a nightmare frozen in time. And all of it, even in the bland florescent lights of the dealer's room, shimmered as the light reflected off of the multitude of sand-like facets that covered the piece in its entirety. So, when the merchant silently handed me the weapon for a better look, finding that no single crevice was left untouched to the sandy-finish, it was with some surprise that, when I handed it back, I found that not so much as a single black speck marred my hands. The staff must have had some sort of non-reflective clear coating given it’s smoothness, and just caught the merchants last words, some good-natured ribbing about having once belonged to a great man, but I found myself interrupting him as I said, “How much.”

He hummed, adopting a more serious tone, holding the shaft in both hands, and looking down it before looking back to me and said, “for this, I will accept nothing less than ninety-five dollars.”

“You got a deal,” I said, grabbing from the dwindling number of bills in my wallet.

"Ha-Hah, sweet dreams my friend," he waved to me as I turned to leave, a smile on my face as I waved back with a word of thanks.

Moving back to the main pathways, I began my search through the dice tables, hoping to show off my new "weapon" to Andrew, or just anyone else from delta-star to show off my awesome haul, feeling more Pitch-y by the second, but after ten minutes of looking and finding no one, even when I went back to where Ashley had been, I decided it would worth it to, instead, call it an early night and show off my prize tomorrow once everyone was in cooler spirits. Besides, there weren't any tournaments I wanted to go to tonight, so if I slept now, I could go all night tomorrow.

By the time I reached the hotel room, finding it empty of any of its shared delta-star occupants, I fell upon my bed. The bus to the hotel had been more relaxing than I'd expected, the hum of the engine coaxing me to sleep like so many rumbling ice-machines, besides, my black robe could survive a bit of tossing and turning, and I could always go to a laundromat in the morning if worse came to worse.

Eyes closed, I smiled, dimly remembering I still had the Pitch’s staff, my staff, in hand. It was remarkably sturdy, having bounced the tip of the blade against a few walls and the elevator by accident on the way back. 'How childish of me' I thought with a silent laugh, twisting my wrist to lean it against the wall by the head of the bed, and thanking my good fortune at having left the convention as the rhythmic sound of rain began hitting upon the window.

***Present***

You must not fall asleep. You must make them know you.

“Wh… what?” I wheezed, startled more by the lack of pain than the words in my head as the last dregs of adrenaline twitched its way through my body. The last few hours of my life had been spent screaming as countless cuts were made across my entire body and even some into my mouth, but then as night covered the land, the black moths had retreated suddenly, leaving me to hug my knees in silence, idling wandering if the sudden lack of pain meant I was simply dying. My arms were had certainly been feeling cold and numb for a while, even during all that stabbing and pinpricking.

Your own fear is all that sustains you. You must make them believe in you or you will vanish. Already you are lessening!

I didn’t want to believe the voiceless words anymore than I wanted to believe that they were all coming from the black moths that circled the air of the clearing, wings outstretched and unmoving, but I raised a hand to my eyes, if only to prove them wrong in some misguided act of triumph, but, rather than a hand flecked with dirt and peeling grey paint, I found I could just make out the outline of the tree-trunk behind my hand in the silvery moon-light.

The creatures didn’t give me the time to think before they swooped forward, engulfing me, meshing together in a disgusting mess of shimmering black-grains, itching their way across me to bind my shaking limbs as they spread their wings to carry me aloft long enough for me to see them dive at the base of the nearest tree and into the shadows. I shut my eyes, waiting for my braining, but the only thing I felt was an engulfing numbness, everything from the cold, the pain, and even the sensation of blinking began to deaden, but it was gone before I knew it, replaced by the the sound of wind whistling in my ears. Cracking open my eyes, a sudden sense of vertigo clenching at my stomach, I watched as the fog I had thought we were in fell behind and gave way to the sight of both thatched and tiled roofing below as the black sand-moths began to spiral down through the dying wisps of smoke rising from the shadows of chimneys.

Again, without warning, the creatures jerked suddenly right, their lazy flight seemingly forgotten as they made straight for a small second story balcony. I gave a small groan, closing my eyes and hoping I wouldn't end up blind from the splintered wood or broken glass that was to come, but it didn't come. Instead, I was dumped unceremoniously upon a hard-wood floor, the cool of the night air no longer chilling my face. Opening my eyes, I watched as the black sand retreated away from me into the shadows, leaving me to shiver in the warmth of the house

Turn her dreams. Only then will you have a foothold to make the rest fear you my liege.

Pushing myself to my hands and knees I slowly tried to get up up, which I did at a sudden jump when I saw the grain of the wood through my pale grey hands. Once standing, I could see the tousled, whitish mane of the mint-green unicorn sleeping at the end of the room... in bed... with a night stand, and a glass of water beside it with another stand at the other side with an alarm-clock. I stepped back with a gasp as she began to toss and turn under her sheets and eventually kick them off, revealing a golden lyre upon her flank.

Emotionally drained as I was, it only made the pit in my chest where my conscience rumbled all the more deafening. Everything just felt too real, I almost wanted pretend I was simply insane, the wash of invading thoughts bulleting every last fear the sleeping mare below me held certainly gave the case some merit, but it was still all more likely that I was now, somehow, this world’s Boogey Man.

This world, it was equal parts darkly-humorous and heartbreaking that in all this madness, how quickly the business of it all settled in my mind. Boogey Man, however, was easiest to swallow given what felt like an empty pit behind my stomach twitched and ached weakly for a 'feeling' of all things. But all it took to send it roaring for a meal was a single glance back to the sleeping mare, a light I hadn't seen before pulsing in, or maybe it was around her. It didn't matter, I was too... hungry, too shaky on my own wispy looking feet to do anything but stagger towards her.

Looking down at her, I wondered just what I had to do, and on an impulse I threw out my hand, but rather than smack her head, it passed through her, horn and all, stopping in the center of her head where it stuck. I wanted to yank out my hand, I did, but the feeling of... dreams, yes, her dreams kept my arm frozen in place as the burning happiness of it all began to warm my fingers. And I could see it, just behind my own eyes, like a daydream. There were humans, well, almost humans, they didn't come in magenta and puce on the skin spectrum where I was from. And of those "humans", one, her hair styled much like the unicorns, was sitting there, talking to another. Her friend, the dream echoed. But the longer I held onto the dream, the more it began to darken. The humans in there all began to look like me. The unicorn, Lyra Heartstrings her dream named her, continued talking her friend, both oblivious to the sudden changes in the dream until the human girl gave a silent scream causing Lyra, both in the dream and in her bed, to stiffen. My little dream me’s began to laugh as they closed in around the two females, sending the dream to collapse as she woke with a start. Lyra gasped, trembling in her bed, obviously trying to hold down the whimper growing in the back of her throat as she pieced together where she really was.

Had I really done it? The hunger was still there, but it was different now, not gone, but... expectant? Waiting?

“Are you scared?” I asked, hoping beyond hope that she would both hear and not hear me.

No sooner had I spoken than I was met with the screech of, “MONSTER HUMAN!” attacking my ears.

The sudden shouting brought the sound of hooves clacking on hardwood paneling outside the room as a tan mare with blue and pink mane slammed open the door, lantern in hoof, and shouted, “Lyra, what’s wrong?”

“THERE, THERE!” Lyra shouted, pointing at me with her hoof.

“What's there?” she asked, shaking her head as if she hadn't heard it right the first time.

And with that question I felt the last dregs of doubt melt away. This really was Equestria, I was really my costume, I was living in a cartoon, and I really didn't want anyone to see me and my shame. But no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than I found myself sinking through the floor and landing roughly onto the living-room rug below with a thump, wanting for all the world to do a proper job of vanishing me, only for the black-sand to suddenly rise up from the lining of the floor-boards instead and turn my world to black as it washed over me.

Author's Notes:

If you like this story, then some credit goes to IkioStar (who acted as a pre-reader) in helping me get this started. Conversely, if you think this is a bunch of crap, then this is wholly my fault and I should have listened to him more.

But, at any rate, this idea for a cosplay to Equestria thing has been bothering me for a while, so I had to write it out of my head to shut it up. Annnnyyyway, feel free to comment, be it why this idea is stupid, poorly executed, or even just what someone who isn't me thinks. I'm tired, so goodnight.

((2)

Pacing the floor of the cave, it was only the light reflecting from the dust riddled gold coins that finally got me to look up. Turning to the mouth of the high mountain cave, I winced, shading my eyes with my right hand, and watched as the blackened cloud cover was finished being rolled up like a sleeping bag before a line of pastel dots shot up then back down, the thick bundle of water vapor disappearing, like magic, before flying off, their duty apparently done. Turning back to the coins, stepping closer, I gingerly reached for one of the grubby things and, rubbing the deceptively weighty thing vigorously between two pinches of fabric from my coat, found the silver-dollar sized disks to be completely smooth, no markings of any kind. Using another un-dirtied section of my coat, I found that I could buff it enough to hold a reflection.

Sitting down upon the rough, and uneven floor, I dropped the cleaned coin in a pocket I'd managed to sew on the inside, intent on cleaning the rest, glad of the distraction it gave me from the information that had been whispering into my head ever since things had... quieted down from last night. Finishing the next coin, dropping it into the same pocket as the one before, my fingers lingered on what should have been a simple cloth, well, cotton I suppose, lining. It was so smooth, the word silk came to mind, but the tingle it made against my finger as I brushed it along side the pocket and then along the rest of my coat's insides, felt simply too soft for words.

'This isn't my coat.'

Feeling down the rest of my clothes, I found I was definitely no monger wearing the simple black slacks I'd found at a Goodwill Store three cities over. Not even my underwear had been untouched I found as I unbuttoned my cloak, as well as the fact the fact I was now missing a large chunk of my stomach. Gingerly pressing a hand into my, disturbingly fat free, belly, rather than the usual inch of give, my hand just stopped, pressing into a wall of coiled... something, that squirmed against my touch.

'What else is changed?' I thought, closing my mouth to the ugly echos of my mouth-breathing.

I should be hungry. I’d been up for hours, apparently, judging by the sun I'd thought should have been hours away thanks to the clouds. I should also be tired. I shouldn't have been busy with God Damn new thoughts popping, always popping in, demanding my attention with their news of fearful things all while the pile of black sand continued shushing through the air behind my shoulders, following behind me like some sick puppy, seemingly content to no longer molest me now that some modicum of belief in my existence had been met. But now, under the warm of the sun, I could almost feel my own thoughts coming back to me, not that they were very charming either. For one, I couldn't afford to blunder my way through this ... place, even if it did look more like a cartoon than true three-dimensional space.

Second, The Elements of Harmony. Were they a problem? Were they some form of mind control, robbing anyone who violated the law of the land of their free-will or did they purge evil? Or did they just give a chance at forgiveness, like with Discord? He could be kind, and even a bit just. There was too much that could be wrong, mistranslated, or just made up about this land from the twenty-two minute windows that I'd gotten from the minds of writers and animators on my side of existence.

Third, the mane six were still my best bet on help, either themselves or by the other people they knew who had information. But I couldn't nightmare them, I couldn't. They were important. And even if they weren't they still lived under the shadow of Canterlot, capitol city of Equestria. If I struck here, the military response would mean I'd be a threat. Something to destroy first and ask questions of later for having gone after their strongest weapon. I'd have to get more fear, more belief, farther away, let word of mouth spread to them. They'd still chase me, but maybe if I got enough power to ...

"Ahh," I shouted, nightmares pricking into my back, and... knew that they had felt my fear. Turning to the floating sandstorm, trying to breath like a normal person again, the trickle of vitality I'd gotten from last night began to drip back away. 'Lyra.' That she'd known about humans, let alone enough to dream about them, was nothing short of a miracle. But, how was she losing belie- Bonbon! She'd come in and hadn't seen me. I was going to be swept under the bed like some bad dream!

'I can't die,' I worried, swinging on my heels, thrusting a hand into the black sand still float behind me. Pitch Black had seemed to have some sort of psychic link to his nightmares, wordlessly forming them into any tool he saw fit, so maybe I could do the same. The cloud burbled, lowering itself to the ground before springing right back up, racing up my arm and biting into my flesh as it began crawling onto my chest.

“Don’t be nervous. It only riles them up more. They smell fear, you know.”

Taking a breath, watching, wide-eyed, as the blackness continued to grow, I said, “Please stop that, it hurts.” When it continued moving, scratching onto my right forearm, I watched as my covered hand smashed into the cave wall, scattering the sand. It was, odd. Something must have... snapped, I suppose was the way to say it. My chest felt hot, like some kind of twist between holding your breath and standing too close to a fire, but all on the inside. And even with the silent-ringing in my ears, I heard myself shouting “I said to stop you filth-AAAAAAAAAAA!!!!” as I continued to beat at the sand, scrapping it off of me into a pile that quivered on the cave wall it had stuck to. It even started making its own fear, of me, 'The Boogeyman' it was calling me.

"No," I sighed, the empty sounds of the cave murmuring back into my ears, sliding over the waves of blood thumping in my ears. Looking down, the sand was gone, but I could still feel its fear, distinct, and, not growing smaller, but, shutting down, or placing itself back in containment. Like some ready-response had been fulfilled and it was simply waiting for the next task. Cold, robotic.

Taking a breath, hissing when I brushed knuckles that were apparently bloody now as they slipped into my pockets, I began walking to the mouth of the high cave overlooking Ponyville, bringing a hand to my eyes as the sparkling tree-like castle at its edge caught the light.

‘At least I’ve got some idea of what I might be facing.’

And with that pleasant thought settling in I took a step out over the ledge, a circle of sand rushing out, catching me before I could hit the bottom ledge three feet below. 'Whatever,' I thought, feeling suddenly too thin, and wanting desperately for a bed, but if I tried to sleep my troubles away, I probably wouldn't wake up again to face them. The sand, however, was quietly inching forward, making a pathway that crunched softly under my boots as I headed straight towards the wooden city, wondering if icing should be called something different at room temperature, or if I should feel more concerned about my imperiled life that I was trying to save.

***

“Look, how can you say it was just a bad dream when you’re the one who busted into my room last night? You saw I was awake,” Lyra said, punctuating her statement with a firm, but gentle, poke into Bon Bon’s side as they trotted down Hoover Street.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you were completely awake," the cream mare chided, "Remember last cider season when you went out in the middle of the night and set up your tent to be one of the first in line, for the next year?”

“No, I don’t, but even if I did, there's still a big difference between doing something while half-asleep and and wide-eyed sca… THERE HE IS!!”

***

Sucking in the warm breeze, my stomach doing loops every time I looked down at the tiny buildings below, it would have been almost fascinating to watch as the dream sand compensated for my weight and balance as I walked across the sky had it not been for the disquieting way I saw it zig and dip the entire platform as it had. Still, it hadn't misbehaved since I'd left the cave, and already it was spiraling down, allowing the homes beneath to grow to their regular size. It all looked so different in the light of day, and with so many people walking around, but I was sure I could find her house and try and fix -

"THERE HE IS!" I heard.

Heart pumping, I looked down to see the entire street of ponies looking up at me, massive pupils shrinking, while the mint-green unicorn I'd been searching for was busy pointing at me. The sand-walk roiled, slowly whirling up my legs, cutting into me, as the ponies threw up their spike of fear, blooming into my head. They wanted to run, to scream. The clouds from the Everfree were finally coming after civilization! An invisible monster had come! it was hiding behind the roof-tops!

"No," I moaned, hands shaking. I couldn’t afford the attention of any of the Element bearers right now, and a town-wide panic just the thing to do that. "We've got to hide," I said, the sand immediately clamping onto my legs as they tossed me into the nearest wall. Closing my eyes I waited to smack into the brickwork, and I didn't have to wait long, gasping for air on the... steaming hardwood floor in a cooled sauna. No windows and the only door being in front of me rather than behind, I didn't wait for even the quiet little voice that guided my panic to respond before I was leaping up to the door in front of me to find a room full of pools and massage tables. Hearing the sound of a slamming door a few rooms over and ran in the opposite direction. Sure the problem felt fixed, but Ponyville wasn't safe anymore.

***

“Uuggghhh, where could he have gone?”

“Lyra,” Bon Bon said, pausing to take in enough breath to speak after chasing down the friend who’d decided to yell at the sky and do parkour through everypony's house in town, of which the dust was still settling from. “What the Tar Blasted Tartarus is wrong with you?!?”

Lyra turned to Bon Bon, her mouth in a small 'o' before turning to a frown, her eyes moving to slits,” I don’t have time for this Sweetie Drops, and I know I’m not crazy either,” she said, lifting a hoof to her friend’s mouth before she could say anything. “I’m going over to Twilight’s. If anypony knows about dangerous dreams turned real it’ll be someone who’s dealt with the likes of Nightmare Moon. You can just keep on treating me like the rest of the town and call me crazy,” she said, already leaving the silent mare behind, “since it’s obviously too much to expect my best friend to believe in me.”

***

Legs pulled to my chest, I still kept my gaze trained upon the long disappeared town of Ponyville. I didn't trust it not to give off some blast of magic skyward to arc down and freeze me into crystal the moment I turned my back to it. Sitting on the caboose's veranda, or whatever the proper term was called, the locomotive continued to chuff along, apparently heading for Saddle Arabia if the conductor's shout was to be trusted.

Even as the sun continued to arc across the sky, I never took my eyes away from the v-ing tracks that curved and molded over the changing landscape. Beautiful as it was, like some a world of Dr. Seuss but with the lumps pressed out of it and with a heavier dose of mythic fantasy woven in. Great mountain chains bore out like sleeping dragons. Forests ferned out next to surrounding lakes and ponds with oaks, firs, and any other variety of tree ringing out, only to be separated by great stretching fields of flowers that stole a bit from every shade and color of the world into their myriad of petals. Even the two train stations they'd refueled at were a sight. Noisome crowd filled places that they were, I certainly would have certainly had my head collide into a pegasus and a griffin on two occasions had I ever stood up from my clamped position had i tried to get a better look at the gleaming works of brass, iron, and glass that wove over the simple geometric patterns tiled into the floors. It was all so Classic, refined, ageless, but it all looked so new. Modern might just have been the more appropriate word, but it didn’t matter. The fact it reminded me in some capacity of home was enough for me, even if it did make the nasty little pit in my chest weigh just a little more. Not that it mattered. Night was going to come sooner rather than later, and that meant I'd have to get up and make sure more people would know about me, all so I could eventually get the help I wouldn't deserve.

((3)

Stepping out of the alley's shadows and into the warmed cobbled street, my sand flowing just behind me before probing into my disgust and falling back into the darkness. Looking down, I watched as my feet ghosted through the bits and pieces of flittering garbage that the wind scooped up from the streets in erratic loops and skittering half-circles.

Moving forward, I could hardly keep track of the myriad colors that were the people and merchandise gleaming under the covered-stalls of the Riydah Bazaar, jewel of the capital city, if the poster near the train station was to be believed. The crowds, however, were still quite thick, even as shops were closing down for the day, though if I wasn't mistaken, just as many seemed to be just as busy putting on lights as there were those closing shutters. Really, I shouldn't have been surprised to find there as more of a nocturnal life her than there was to the town of Ponyville. Pony-snakes, lower half halves undulating across the ground as their upper halves were held in the vertical, hooves folded over the chest, were treated as uninterestingly normal as the sand-colored diamond-dogs that no one bothered to give a second look at, let alone a first. But as much as the new sights pleaded for my attention, when the afternoon sun suddenly dipped off the horizon, as though yanked by some unimaginably large chord, and was immediately replaced by the silvery glow of the full moon, rising smoothly on the opposite edge of the darkening sky, I came to a full and complete stop.

Shivering as another pony in the crowd trotted through, shaking me from any further scientific minded thoughts on celestial bodies and their effect upon the planets around them, I began to walk, letting the awe of what these people considered to be so mundane as to not warrant a single glance to the sky onto the back-burner . But it wasn't just the sun and he moon. When I was pacing through the train, trying to keep ahead of all the doubts and second-guesses trying to plague me, I'd heard ponies gushing over Sapphire Shores and her ability to craft visible sound waves into her performances, of some pegasus's mother managing to craft a flurry of wind to carry their town's anthem across her wind-chimes , and even the train’s engineers, betting on how soon steam engines would come back into style for the nobles now that the new crystal-engines had become standard for mass transport. It was almost frightening to hear how common place these things were to them, but at least it kept me distracted... during the day.

It had been much harder to keep my thoughts of Ponyville as tightly sealed as I might have wanted during the night. Even the cloud of fears that everyone beamed into my head began to lessen as they fell to slumber, replacing it with an aura of happiness and even joy, drowning out their more negative emotions.

What I had done to Lyra was monstrous, the way my fear had raged and expanded, flowing out of me and into her mind, imposing my will onto her dreams. Her whimpering, her defenselessness, it was disgustingly unforgivable, but it would have been so much more bearable if it hadn't felt so... pleasant. It was why I'd ended up spending so much of my nights on the roof of the cars, leaving the wind to whistle a single and constant note through my ears while watching puffs of colored steam pass and vanish from sight.

But here, in this city, filling with its growing night life, it seemed the perfect place to fill my mind with distractions, to, just maybe, get a hold of my mind and the new lists of fears that were daily taking precedence, wanting nothing more than to increase its length by finding new and exotic phobias that worried away at the people I passed. 'I just ant to sleep again,' I thought, siding out of the main thoroughfare and into the nearest alley, pinching down the center of my brow, leaning my head onto the, still warm, yellow brickwork of the wall before me, and exhaled... and continued to exhale... and continued to exhale the air in my lungs which should have been screaming for a new breath of air. 'Huh, neat,' I thought, trying to hold on to the wonder of the feat rather than the inhuman amount of air I had just lost.

inhuman inhumane fear mongering mongrel

That was it, wasn't it. Letting the blanket of fears that continued to wrap and writhe against my thoughts have their say, remaining silent, like a dog, rather than talk back.

Lyra had seen me that day, hell, she'd even tried to chase me. And I'd let her, rather than simply standing my ground. Ah, but the guards, the Elements of Harmony. Right, but if she was taking it into her own hands, was she really so afraid? Did she really think of me as some monstrous threat if little old untrained civilian her was coming after me instead of reporting it to authorities? That could mean I could have tried apologizing to her, could even apologize to her now. Open a dialogue with her and Twilight, just, just anyone who could listen. I could begin to get help. I could be responsible. I could even try and make things right, right?

Looking down, the stone buildings, tents and stalls were already shrinking as a cube of sand had lifted me, unbidden, into the air. But that was fine, I just needed to find the train station, then sit back as it crossed all the twisting and turning tracks back t-

Clenching at my shirt, eyes wide, a pull of what I could only call numbness began to pull down on my chest as warm sand, normal sand pressed against my face, my chest, my legs. My nightmares retreated from me... somehow, but all that mattered as how aware, how real, how textual the feeling of nothingness pulling at what I intrinsically knew, just knew, had to be my vitality, and all the energy from all the fears and nightmares I'd gotten from that one little unicorn. when a queer feeling starting chilling my guts. The sand reacted swiftly to my sudden loss of balance and gently flew me to the ground. It was like feeling the inside of an unturned canteen, the water gently flowing out and into the wide of the world, leaving nothing. And then, a spark of fear ignited.

Black needles slowly crawled up my arms as I pushed against the shuffling sands beneath me, but I was so dulled, its stings only registered enough to remind me that that one, stinking, piece of organic filth WASN'T AFRAID OF ME!

'How?' I thought, trying to walk, to stumble away rom the emptiness. 'How was it possible to suddenly stop believing like this? No marked decline, no wavering. It was just gone. But this could only mean that something, or one, had to be purposefully getting rid of Lyra’s thoughts and memories of me. Yes, it had to be one of the six. No, the princesses! They were trying to kill me, to make her forget.'

"Oh, hoh hoh, but you're not dealing with some idiot who needs to prattle on, some mental reject ho needs to brag of his conquests to his living enemy. Oh no," I grinned, lines of nightmare sand now pricking along my legs, sensation slowly returning to them. "I can fill more people with fear than you could ever possibly make forget," I declared, pointing to the moon.

The moon? Beating me? Ha! Never.

Sliding into an unseen divot in the desert sand, my stomach churned as nightmares clouded around me, softening my fall. I was outside the city. I shouldn't have been outside the city. Growling as I pushed my chest up from the ground, I had to hand it to them. That had been a good attack, I would admit that much. But I'd had less than this when I'd popped into the miserable little world. I had knowledge now. I knew what to do now, and more importantly, the nightmare's still knew what to do too, just like the first night.

Thrust into a new home, I began shifting myself through the rooms, finding nothing for my trouble but empty beds. But that just meant they were probably nocturnal, the place didn't have any windows after all, and that just meant I could get them in the morning. Moving on to the next house I was rewarded with a sleeping mare swaying in a hammock. Reaching out my hand, as angry as I was, as hungry as I as, a silent word of apology still squeezed itself out from the melee of thoughts devouring my attention. Pressing into her skull, my fear swept into her dreams, engulfing the sunny the beach, the cool misty breezes, and equally cool drinks of a tropical getaway, and destroyed it. The trees withered away, falling as they crusted into blackened husks, blowing away to add to the growing blackness. Catching the breeze the black sand clung to everything within the wind's reach: towels, cabanas, nothing in the dream was safe, and soon the growing tide of shimmering black swept consumed the dream like a parasite consuming its host, leaving nothing but a blackened beach and a muddied ocean for the terrified mare to enjoy.

The nightmare accomplished, my growing cloud swept me from the room and its occupant's piercing screams. I needed more, much more than the fears of a single mare.

***

Constellations and galaxies swirled sluggishly across Luna's gaze before she gave a tired sigh, blowing back the bits of errant mane that hung over her eyes as she stepped out of Morpheus, the enchanted silver door sliding silently closed. Much of her time this night had been spent in Vanhoover thanks to another of the technological leaps she had missed during her time locked upon the moon. This combination of both sound and moving pictures had become quite integrated within the culture, all but destroying the work of bards, though most everypony seemed to enjoy them, including her sister. However, what had garnered her attention this night was the festival's chosen theme of horror. Whimsical tales of nightmares come to light, the idea being to frighten ones's self, much like during Nightmare Night. But, willingly agreed to for merriment's sake or not, many a sleeping pony, both young and old, had benefited from a gentle reminder that they often had more power than they gave themselves credit for, especially against a flickering image on a screen.

Stretching her wings, glad of the extra wide hallway, she began her journey to the hall and her lounge beyond with the sole intention of falling onto her new favorite piece of furniture, the beanbag chair, and enjoying a well deserved snack, or as her sister was want to jest, second breakfast.

Pushing open the deceptively simple door with a flicker of teal-tinged magic, Luna was greeted with the plush interior of her lounge. The creamy-white circular carpet took up much of the black marble floor, of whose flowering crystal veins, present throughout, had been enchanted to hold gentle twists of blue and white light. Ringing the carpet were a number of black beanbag chairs spiraled with white, leaving enough room for anypony to easily weave around even a room fully occupied. Taking the farthest chair from the door, Luna fell upon it with a superb lack of grace and let the downy-softness embrace her.

Quieting her mind, The Princess of the Night had just discerned what tonight's craving was when the silence of the room was abruptly shattered from the armored hooves clicking into the room without so much as a knock.

“Princess, you are needed in the courtroom.”

A flash of blue, and Princess Luna stood at the ready before her night guard, mane once more immaculate, and strode after the retreating soldier who was trotting double-time down the hall towards The Night Court, which had ended hours earlier tonight.

‘Perhaps I have forgotten a late arrival,’ Luna thought, years of politicking suppressing a blush of embarrassment at the thought of repeating a mistake she had done naught but three weeks past with an ambassador from the gryphon kingdom, an owl-leopard hybrid. The words for a diplomatic apology she was organizing, however, died quickly in her throat as she was greeted with the silent stares of several of the more high-ranking night-guards as well as a single day-guard who was putting up a valiant front of alertness despite the particularly late hour. Something was very wrong.

((4)

Entry One, Afternoon

I have taken up this journal in hopes that, should what I have done, and continue to do, becomes so triv commonplace that I am no longer able to feel sufficiently poor grief and shame at their doing, then that I should at least recognize my actions for what they are from an intellectual and moral standpoint.

That said, before I forget, I should put to the memory of these pages how I came across this book and quill before the memories completely fade behind my work yet to come.

An unfortunate case, I decided to see if I might burn off some of the excess energy that I had acquired at the dawning of today’s sun rather than continue my work as the nocturnal minded citizens went to sleep.

On a side note, I am growing more concerned with my new body, I have yet to manage any true sleep and fear possible delet damaging effects it may have on me.

And so, risking the use of nightmare-sand to bring me out into the desert, not trusting my own sense of direction, I found the wreckage of a great covered-wagon, a merchant’s as much as I could surmise past the destruction. Much of the wares seemed to revolve around papers, inks, bindings, and the like, and much from what I could see from what was left scattered in the sand around me, and in this I found a blank journal and a quill, which I have now found seems enchanted to hold great amounts of ink in it, and scavenged them for myself. But just as I was about to leave my foot brushed against a hoof in the sand, and to make a gruesome story short there are now two unmarked graves within the desert that were not there before, though much of the lifting and digging were done by my sand, which I think has gotten bigger since last night. Though, whether I was able to manipulate these bodies due to their being dead or my newfound belief-energy, I am both unsure an unwilling to test further.

^^^

Trotting through the stone portal, I was greeted to the mingling of scents of spring as the outcropping of uncarven wall slid silently back into place, hiding, again, the secreted room on the small outcropping of Canterlot's mountainside. Stepping down the smooth cut stairway, luminescent buds hanging from the wall vines provided a pleasantly pale yellow light to guide me, comparably dimming as I came to an archway covered by hanging vines that shimmered with the colors of spring, and blocking the greater light behind them.

Parting the vines with a small push of magic, briefly incorporating a thin sparkle of teal into their leaves, I stepped through to the cavern. In truth, I was still hard pressed to believe my sister's secret garden had been grown without the aid of natural light, even as my gaze drifted skyward to a ceiling of netted vines so tightly woven that the shining buds, much like their cousins in the entry tunnel, gleamed down shafts of light like summer through the treetops, illuminating the quiet path of flowering trees all the way to the glistening, lily covered spring in the center.

She sat there, eyes closed, head held just above the surface of the water, her shimmering mane twining about the lily pads, no doubt meditating on her guard’s report. Sitting down upon the grassy shore, I waited, she never kept me waiting, not even in jest, though hopefully that will change in the future. Turning to more pleasant thoughts, I gave gaze to the pink, crystal petals of the nearest tree, remembering how flabbergasted I'd been to see such a specimen out of The Crystal Empire. This had been the first place she took me once I was recovered enough to leave my bed after my... true return to Equestria. She was quite proud of this place, as she should be, having grown it all within the bowels of the mountain herself, using her innate celestial powers to simulate the required synthesis in tandem with a slew of earth pony enchantments that I was only now just beginning to fully comprehend.

Pushing off from the submerged rock, Celestia turned towards me, oaring herself to shore with her wings. What the nobles would think to see their heavenly princess swimming like a young pegasus, dipping her nose beneath the water to blow bubbles I daren't guess, but such foalish actions could only bring a smile to my lips, glad of sharing such trivialities with my sister once more.

Reaching the edge of the pool and pulling herself up smoothly beside me, her mane, weighted with water, wavering from forearm to gaskin, she peered into my eyes and said, “What are your plans dearest sister?” stretching her left wing about my shoulders and wither.

I knew she would ask this, especially given my all too recent actions against The Nightmare, having reappeared and twisted the Element of Generosity into a foul incarnation of Nightmare Moon, how I'd strove to finish it alone and without aid. How I'd forgone sleep this past morning upon my return from the impromptu Night Court session.

“I shall call upon the Elements of Harmony and, together, we shall strike upon our enemy as a whole, putting an end to The Nightmare or whoever else has decided to take up its mantle."

“Then I shall await your triumphant return,” she smiled, brushing her muzzle against my cheek, furthering the embrace with a second wing. "Not so fast," she added as I tried to disengage, the sound of magic alighting on her horn as bits of steam began to rise from her sodden fur, giggling softly as I squirmed out of her heated grasp lest my mane turn as frizzled as her own.

***

“BRAAAAAAAUUUUUARRRRRRGH!!!!

‘Always something. And right when was on the cusp of a fourth configuration.’ I sighed, wheeling away from the worktable on my chair, the schematics for a three-dimensional puzzle flying at the sudden displacement of air and just as handily caught in a cloud of gentle magic. Closing my eyes to the illuminant amethyst byproduct as the animating energies suffused the prototype schematics, sending it back neatly into the cabinet under file heading of ‘Hobbies’ subsection ‘Brain Teasers’ using a modified version of Ship Shapes's organization spell, I sent a brief push of thaumic energy into updating the redundant copies before carefully pushing my chair back into place. Perfect. Even the timing. I had designated this time-block as free-time, so, really, there really couldn't be a better time for something unexpected to happen.

Still, I knew what that particular burp meant, though I would never breathe a word to anypony that I had come to know what each of Spike’s particular belches signified, and most especially not to Rainbow. Not that it mattered. Even if she did, I already had obfuscating data on sonics and dragon physiology with a few studies speculating into how their range of sound mimicked that of bats but on a lower pitch, so-

“Ooof, oh hey Twilight, looks like you got a message from Celestia,” Spike said, already giving me the ‘I-know-you-got-lost-in-thought-and-didn’t-even-realize-you-left-your-laboratory’ smirk.

“Thanks Spike,” I said, levitating the proffered scroll towards me while trying to ignore my growing blush while he tried to stifle a good natured giggle in kind. I ended up breaking down first though, leaving us laughing for a full fifteen and a half seconds before I regained enough control to look at the seal.

“Huh, that’s odd, Celestia normally uses a golden seal on her letters, but this one is silver.”

“Maybe she’s got some new stationary?” Spiked shrugged.

“Hmm, maybe,” I said, and gently pried the seal off and before reading.

Dear Princess Twilight,

A matter of the utmost urgency requires your immediate attention.

I would ask for you and your fellow Elements of Harmony to once more band together in aid of Equestira and its citizenry.

Please, rendezvous at the Ponyville train station and board the first train for Riydah.

I shall meet you en route with further detail.

Yours Truly,

Princess Luna

***

“I swear if Discord’s gone evil again I’m going to shove my hoof so far up his-”

“RainbowDash. Really. You needn’t resort to such language,” Rarity huffed, lounging on her simple train seat, “although, if he has gone off to the deep end, and so soon I might add, I might just be inclined to join you. Still, I’m quite sure his show of contriteness was genuine, right dear Fluttershy?”

“To tell you the truth I’m a little worried about him. He really hasn't been himself since," she gulped, "Well, you know. And," she straightened up, "as far as I can tell, he hasn't used a single bit of chaos magic during our weekly tea-parties since. Not even so much as triple loop-de-looping the tea from the pot.”

“Ooh, speaking of parties do you think we’ll be having one once we reach Saddle Arabia? ImeanI’veneverbeen buuuuuuuut I DO know it’s reeeaaally hot there, so first thing we have to is stock up on ice-cream.” Pausing for what should have been just been an exaggerated breath, Pinkie looked behind herself, and, in an almost off-hoofed tone, said, “huh, twitchy tail.”

At that, the conversations abruptly halted as everypony dove for cover, and not a moment too soon as bright flash of indigo gleamed briefly through the private car. Blinking the spots from their eyes, it was Twilight who, teleporting herself out from the cramped space under the surrounding divans, stood up to bow, as Luna said, “I’m sorry for the brief message, but…” she paused, gazing out into the empty room, save for the recently crowned Princess of Friendship.

“Sorry,” Twilight winced, waving urgently for the girls to come back up, “Pinkie, eh, heard you coming, so we made sure to give you enough room so you wouldn’t have to worry about falling on anypony.”

“Ah, thank you Twilight, and to you Pinkie Pie,” Luna replied, nodding to the Element of Magic and the Element of Laughter in kind, “ but I’m afraid my past may once again have come to bite me, as I suspect The Nightmare has once more found a host for its corruption.”

“WHAT?!” they gaped in unison.

“That’s crazy!” Rainbow frowned, throwing her hooves out in front of her, “We blasted it good last time! How can it be back?”

“You know this isn’t your fault right?” Fluttershy said, her sudden confidence stealing everypony's attention, as the yellow mare as draped a hoof to Rarity's back.

“Yeah,” Applejack said, gently hitting her on the back, knocking the white mare out of her thousand-yard stare. It was no mystery to guess how Rarity still felt about the time she had allowed The Nightmare to possess her for fear of being replaced by her friends, and would ended up starving them to death had it not been for the actions of a corrupted moon minion in possession of an abnormally strong heart and his choice to do what was right. “Besides, you know what they say about the third time being the charm and all. H’and I’ll bet we beat that nightmare in record time too.”

“Thank you,” Rarity breathed, blotting her eyes on a monogrammed handkerchief as everyone, Luna included, embraced her. “Still, back to the matter at hoof yes,” she said, her weary smile reassuring her friends as they seated themselves along the minty divans.

“Indeed,” Luna nodded. “Last night, the capital city of Saddle Arabia was stricken with fear-laden dreams. But, while The Nightmare’s previous actions have always been to quickly dominate a small region, fortify it, and then begin a rein of conquest," gaze hardening, "We are wary of this sudden change in tactics, but neither do we wish to allow it time for its plans to come to fruition.”

Everypony sat in silence as Luna's words weighed upon them, though perhaps not as heavily upon The Element of Loyalty as she continued the circle around the limiting air-space of the, admittedly, roomy car before she fell to a hover beside her friends, still near to Rarity, and, cracking her neck said, “So, what exactly is the plan then?”

((5)

Entry Thirteen, Evening

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

...

I can't believe that that made me feel feel better.

***

Sitting around dark wood table, their reflections shifting into clownish proportions upon its well oiled surface with the slightest movement, they delivered their reports.

Applejack, brown Stetson shielding her gaze, sat resolute, her mouth set at a slight frown. Using her family ties and mercantile influences, she’d made considerable headway through the bazaar, but had gained little besides knowledge of a few vendettas between some of the older families and traders in the city and a smattering of wild gossip on the possible market campaign that these nightmares might signify for the city's annual ice sculpture competition. To her left, Rainbow Dash, wings folded to her sides, wore an equally dissatisfied look. Over the course of the previous days, collaborating with the squad of pegasi-guard Princess Luna had sent ahead of them, she'd found nothing out of the ordinary in the local weather readings. Rarity too had also failed to find anything of note from mingling her way through the upper-crust of Riydah.

Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy, for their part, banded together to cheer-up many of the affected citizens with a Giggle-at-the-ghosties-Pallooza in the residential district with a quiet picnic/petting-zoo, thanks in no small part to the Mayor and local animal shelter, quietly tucked away near the city's oasis. Much to their equal shock, while the dreams of the citizens were always varied, their was always a disturbing singularity of a tall black creature featured across them. Pinkie, however, had been the one to composite a description of the creature from the stumbling words of the frightened citizenry: A blackened tuft of mane crowning the pale grey skin of its head. Bipedal, almost like a minotaur, but with blunted facial features, almost flat, hornless, and with legs that bent sickeningly forward rather than back.

Princess Twilight and Luna, having worn themselves ragged with their sweep through the dreamscapes of the citizens, had also recognized the disturbing similarity of this creature to the creatures Twilight had found on the other side of The Mirror in Canterlot High School. It was always just at the edges of the dreams, little more than a shell of had been. But, more troubling still, was the utter lack of magic they had found. Even had The Nightmare used a distortion spell to keep anypony from discerning the specific spells it had used, the thaumatic degradation could not have been scattered enough to escape detection enough to not alert them to magical foul play, not so soon, and not with a city this size and with so many ponies hit. But even without magic, it just wasn't feasible. Forget about having a potion that could induce such variabled nightmares with a singularly shared individual stuck into them without the aid of magic, just the simple logistics of transporting such a potion, even if a single drop for each target was all that was needed, it simply couldn't have gone unnoticed. Not at that speed, and not on that sort of scale.

Everypony in the room, save Princess Luna, hung their heads nearly to the table in defeat. None of them were pleased with their lack of findings, especially given where that left them in regards to their options. Looking to the clock hanging over the door, it read 3: 55 PM. Moving silently into position under the pale white crystal glow of the conference room ensconced along the walls, everypony took a seat around the rightmost half of the table, placing Fluttershy at the head. An unused, emerald green cushion sat opposite them, as the makings of tea were brought steaming out of its stasis bubble at the table's center, flanked on both sides by two small trays of sugar cookies. It was Thursday, and that meant tea-time with Discord.

At the stroke of four, the clock chimed daintily, and no sooner had the last crystalline peal faded when somepony knocked softly upon the door. A collective weight drew upon the ponies, an order to evacuate the top floor having been given to the guards earlier this morning, and without exception, as Fluttershy said, “Come in.”

Without pomp, ceremony, or fanfair (I know what I said), Discord politely stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. Fluttershy gave her asymmetric friend a small, heartfelt, smile. Responding in kind, and dipping his head to the other mares, the master of chaos teleported silently towards the open cushion in a puff of lilac smoke that, once cleared, showed the draconequus wearing a deep plum, pin striped suit.

“I don’t suppose dearest Fluttershy,” Discord calmly smiled, lazily inspecting the polished claws on the lion's paw at his right shoulder, his eagle claw, pin-stripe sleeve and all, stretching like rubber to grab a fistful of cookies, “that you’ve invited everypony here in the mere spirit of chaos?” and shoving the tiny morsels into his maw, cheeks bulging out cartoonishly as he chewed to the sound of breaking pottery.

Fluttershy knit her brows. She knew that Discord, though he’d never admit to it, out loud, was still upset over his recent betrayal to her, his first friend, and even though she still felt a little guilty about taking advantage of him like this, she also knew that it really would do him a world of good to have such a straightforward way to begin earning back some of their trust. “Well, sort of, maybe," she said, tilting to let her mane fall over an eye. "A lot of ponies have been having a case of bad dreams lately.”

Given the present company in the room, most notably the Princess of the Night, Discord raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his teacup, waving his free hand for her to continue, interest piqued but not trusting himself to keep from openly mocking The Princess of Dreams.

“Well, it seems that all this pony has managed to do is give everypony bad dreams, but we’re afraid they might do something more drastic, and soon, given how rapidly they managed to spread across all of Riydah in a single night”

“Impressive," Discord hummed, "but you keep on mentioning they. Don’t you have any clear idea of whom you want me to stop?”

“Well that’s the problem,” Fluttershy said, brushing back her mane away from the lip of her teacup, “Twilight and Luna can’t seem to find a magical residue of any sort, in the real or the dream world. In fact, the only thing we do know is that it might look like the creatures Twilight saw across The Mirror in the Crystal Empire since they keep showing up in these nightmares.”

Discord sat there, stroking his white, billy goat beard, sending unthinking spirals of blue and pink to vanish across it. “Well,” he grinned, tapping the side of his cheek, his suit disappearing into a rising cloud of grape-scented confetti, “isn't this a pickle. Still," floating off of the cushion, "I think I just might be able to help you out. Though of course I’ll have to examine all the pertinent files to this case,” and, without pause, stuck the tip of his tail into his mouth to pull out a wad of soggy paperwork from under his tongue. Leafing through it he continued, “Further- Oh," he groaned, "the inks gone all runny," tossing the illegible words aside. Wiping away the excess saliva from the table, he gave a pointed look to Fluttershy. "And I won’t be doing this for free either. And," raising his hands in a defensive gesture, "before you get your socks in a bunch I'm only taking this as a preventative measure. You wouldn't want me distracted, would you?”

Glares were quickly leveled at Discord's widening puppy-dog eyes, shriveling him into a smoking pile of ash, his yellow-red eyes blinking atop, unaffected.

“Sheesh, if looks could kill,” he mumbled dryly, a pseudo-hand pushing out of the grey pile as he snapped himself back to health. “Look I'm not trying to strike up some Faustian bargain, I simply request that, for my aid, the Element of Generosity shall create for me a set of clothing to my own specifications, and, given the circumstances, it's really is quite the steal... for you," he purred. "So,” he smirked, straightening up, “I get rid of this 'threat', and in return you give me an outfit," sticking out his claw to Rarity "sound good?”

Everypony looked to one another and then to Rarity who, begrudgingly, gripped at Discord’s outstretched claw and shook, eyes widening and quickly jerking it back to scrub away the saliva she hadn’t known was there onto the expensive cushion beneath her, leaving the room to fill with the cries of seagulls and the smell of the sea as Discord departed.

***Three Nights Later***

Princess Luna continued to gaze at the horizon as the stars began to tiredly peek out, what little paper work that could be accomplished so far from Canterlot having been finished hours ago as the other mares staved off their worry in their own ways. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were still engaged in the same hoof-wrestling contest they'd begun four minutes ago as Twilight made another pass around the Mermare Fountain, a, now, perceptible divot just noticeable in the cobblestones. The rest of the girls were busy trying to distract themselves with the exotic flora, fauna, and complementary catering of the palace garden as what looked like another night without word from Discord was about to begin.

Nearly all of the city's population now stood risk of a nightmare strike, some even dreaming on their own of the mysterious figure rather than being visited themselves. Many of those who would normally enjoy a few hours of the night before retiring to bed were now sticking closely to their homes at the fall of the sun, and it was only due to the large population of nocturnal citizens that kept the night from becoming a ghost town, but they too mirrored their diurnal neighbors, hurrying back to their homes before the break of day. And yet, even with tensions mounting, there was nothing, not of any real consequence, to these dream-strikes other than a poor nights rest, and with whispers of others going to bed earlier to combat this change to their lives. In fact, some had even begun to praise the nightmares, saying how much easier it was to get out of bed in the morning when their hearts were already pounding, their usual waking-daze obliterated.

'Regardless,' Princess Luna thought, gaze steeling upon the heavens, 'if Discord does not report back tonight, even if it's merely to relay his own lack of knowledge, I will seek out this threat to my ponies. I have sat idle as it is for long e-'

The sound of thunder boomed across the sky as brief flash of jagged, yellow lightning spiraled in its wake from the conference tower, casting shadows of orange and blue across the city and the dunes beyond. And, before anypony else could respond, everypony in the garden began to cough as the taste of smoking brimstone filled their lungs, sending tears to their eyes. Beating her wings, Princess Luna pushed at the sudden cloud of smoke, clearing it enough to see the towering form of Discord looming above her.

“That thing" he said through gritted teeth, steam whistling out his ears, "is in the conference room. Release the sleeping enchantment at your own risk. I am not going after him again. And you,” he said, energy crackling darkly around him, turning to point a yellow talon at Rarity, “you now owe me two outfits.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Rarity managed to gasp.

“I am altering the deal. Pray I do not alter it further,” he growled, snapping himself away, stealing everyponies breath as the toxic atmosphere vanished.

In the filling rush of quiet, everypony looked slowly up to the conference room and to the hidden creature within that had managed to get Discord, one of the most mercurial of creatures in existence, steaming out the ears with anger.

((6)

Can see me.

Flying. Friend Shapes. Symmetry. V-formation.

Happiness.

Higher tha̋̎ͩ̾̃n͞ ṁͪ̇e.

Falling.

Fine, just leap after them like always… but… fly before?

Leaving me. In distance. Want back. Panic. NE͑͋͂̉̈̽E͐͑́D̎ͬ͆b̈́͘ack!

Don’t they care?

Grounded. No leap.

How could I possibly leap up that high? I don’t have super powers.

Can’t see me.

Why would I see me? My eyes don’t fly above me like a camera in third-person view.

Worͣ̈͟l̆ͮ́̓d̓͑͗ͤ̍͟ change. M̒̅̑̈̀̐ő͡re color.
Of course. There’s lots of colors, the world isn’t some simple cartoon.

Alone. Sad.

Of course I’m alone. I always end up alone in my dreams. And I’m aware of it.

“I’m dreaming,” I gasp, palming at my chest. There’s only a dim sensation of pressure, nothing too real, but I still need to slow it down. I can’t get excited. I can’t let it end. Not like this. Not when the voices aren’t assaulting me from all sides. It’s quiet in here, and the last thing I want is to lose what precious few seconds I have before I wake up.

‘Please, just a little longer.’

***

Princess Luna sat quietly upon the coral cushion, sipping the darkest coffee Riydah had to offer, coating her nerves with soothing supplement of caffeine. Having found the smell of books was one of the few things that had remained unchanged by the passage of time, she had immediately sequestered herself in the quietest place in the city, the archives. Placing down her quill, the remaining indigo light spiraled around her finished letter and sent it back to Canterlot with a flash.

With a tired exhalation, Princess Luna once more turned her attention back to the low table, though one would have needed prior knowledge of this given the mass of paperwork, quills, and ink that hid nearly even the floor around her. While she would have been quite contented to leave the city of Riydah days ago with the Elements of Harmony and ease the workload that now needed signing in triplicate due to the distance traveled, she had largely abstained from returning so as to properly insure the safe transference of the creature. Honestly, had she not been directly told by Discord who that the creature had seemingly managed to begin passing into true shadow in an attempt to escape from him she would not have believed it. Her own exploits, even as Nightmare Moon, had only even come as close as becoming a stream of conscious energy.

Still, as a precautionary measure, Luna had set about placing luminescent enchantments within and upon the conference room where Discord had left the body in that there might not be so much as a single wisp of darkness for the creature to utilize should it awaken. A layered variation of the former captain of the guard’s shielding spell was then placed around the conference tower in total, and, as a final precaution, she had posted guards just outside the entrance of the room to let her know if they heard any stirrings outside of her occasional check-up’s to make sure the sleeping enchantment was still firmly in place.

Now all that was left for Princess Luna to do was to wait for the train and the crystalline holding cell, enchanted with a similar luminescence spells and personally oversee transfer back to Canterlot. Once there, she could finally begin to research the creature in earnest.

Speaking of, Luna was practically bucking at the gate to get her hooves on the twiggy thing, but it would hardly be prudent to act on such-

“Your Highness,” a thestral guard in midnight armor called, hidden from sight just behind a shelf of scrolls, “your carriage is ready for you.”

“And the Mages?” she replied, already standing up.

“They are in place.”

“You may go,” she nodded.

The clank of an armored hoof to plated chest rang in response, clipping smartly away as Luna charged a teleportation spell for the meeting room, all too ready to get this circus on the move.

***

Levitating calmly in her grasp, the princess’s steaming mug ignored the gentle swaying of her private train car. Taking another sip, she took a moment to enjoy the brief respite from paperwork the locomotive rocking presented and, accordingly, took another sip of coffee. She wouldn’t have the opportunity to imbibe her precious liquid opiate in such quantities once she was in the confines of Canterlot. Well, at least nowhere within the nasal range of her sister.

Placing the mug down, she returned her attention to the porthole at the front of the car where the flatbed holding the glowing, yellow crystal prison cell and the four mercurial cloaks of the hooded Mages surrounding it. One earth pony, one pegasus, and two unicorns, and all working equally to hold the transparent shielding spell and a slew of other defensive enchantments besides to protect both them and their cargo from the elements. So much power, and still, nopony had a guarantee that any of it was actually useful. Still, the creature could sleep at least, and, given how little of that Princess Luna had allowed herself, it was far past time to see if the dark little ... thing could dream as well.

Emptying the rest of her mug, in a decidedly un-princessly like manner, her overindulgence during the past few days was reaching the end of its power to fend off her body's need for rest. But that was fine. It was far past time that Luna, Princess of the Night, did something other than standing upon the sidelines while her subjects strove to carry more than their fair shares of the burden.

Lying her head down, nestling it in between the crook of her shoulder and her wing, an aura of plum light coated over her, restraining her power. Perhaps unnecessary, but with so little known of the creature's true capabilities, it was well worth the precaution lest she potentially shatter the creature’s mind with her mere presence before she could learn anything from it. So, with enchantments in place, Luna closed her eyes and began to loosen the bonds of her mortal coil.

The process, as always, was quite heady. The taste of colors mingled with the sounds of light, and the touch of raw emotions spiraled around her as she dove into a living mind. But, instead of the normal settling of these senses ebbing back into the dream’s matrix, she felt it ripped entirely away from her with a vengeance. Even the subtle shifting that normally accompanied dreams, their ephemeral quality of always moving from one beauty or horror to the next, became, instead, an object of permanence all too akin to reality. There hadn’t even been a door to walk into, she was just ... there.

Straining under this alien force, Luna was brought to her knees, her sense of self straining under the creature’s assault, and immediately broke two of her five seals. Steadying herself, she gazed upon the world before her with hungry eyes. While no stranger to the truly extraordinary landscapes the mind of a dreamer could shape, the unique elements to be found in each one gave, at the very least, a hint to that pony’s psychology, but for the more experienced dreamer, it was also a clue to ones defenses.

Already she was gleaning what she could from the uneven if ultimately straight path of the chalky-white dirt strewn with similarly colored rocks in front of her, her attention drifting briefly to the shallow ditches choked with weeds. She was in a simple alleyway that T-ed into a street just a few paces ahead. It was paved, asphalt, much like what was now being used in some places in Manehattan, though the simplicity of the buildings here denoted either much run down wealth or a dissemination of technology that made a place such as this capable of having such a luxury. Luna blinked, the concentration of color in every minute fracture and edge of the dream was so much more than she was used to seeing in Equestria, and half expected the dream to collapse on itself with so detail going into it.

Moving forward, she paused before stepping out onto the road. Just because nothing was there now, it didn’t mean something wouldn't sideswipe her as soon as she chose a direction. Luckily, there was enough side-lawn in front of the evenly spaced, painted wooden domiciles in the seemingly small residential area to forgo the risk. Lighting her horn, she cast a way-finding spell to locate the creator. Following along a wooden privacy fence, rather than being able to speed her journey along as she normally would, practically swimming through the ephemeral construct, her hoofsteps seemed only to equate to any other step she might have taken in the waking world.

It was the depth she thought suddenly. That was what was allowing the myriad of same-y colors to play on each other, though such strangeness was hardly outside the norm of a dreamer, though there was something to be said of how little, or rather, how nonexistent the warmth of the sun played upon her fur. But truly, it was the stillness that was keeping her on edge. No moaning breeze with shouts of anger or surprise echoing across the streets. No signs of anthropomorphism upon any of the inanimate or floral objects to inspire happiness or despair. It was, for all its buildings, its trees, its cloud filled sky, empty. Isolated.

Trotting now, Luna found herself crossing a short lawn to a yellow house with a red roof. Up three concrete steps she opened first, a red-slatted screen door and then wooden door whose peeling and chipping made it impossible to tell which color had come first. Stepping inside, she found her hooves resounded off the wooden floor in a hollow manner, but what most caught her attention was the low hum of machinery and the crackling popping that began to accompany it with increasing bursts of activity.

Slowing, horn gleaming, ready for the creature's imminent attack, Luna kept track of the modest sized living room. The white sofa, the maroon rug running with teardrop shaped accents along its edges, the small coffee table, the half-sized couch, all of it facing a large wooden chiffarobe that stood beside the open doorway to the adjoining room, and any of it might house or turn into a threat at a moments notice.

The squeak of unoiled hinges sounded from the door to her left, just beside the couch. Her eyes went to track the sound, but she was still prepared, and let loose a bolt of concentrated magic at the wide, wooden container as what sounded like a brass orchestra erupted within, splintering it and whatever content it once held into a thousand smoldering and sparking pieces.

And then, stepping into the light from the darkened bedroom stood the dreamer. Its coloring was much different from its counterpart within the crystal box. The, now, forest green lower leg coverings hung loosely, and held a myriad of pockets, and upon the upper half was a simple, long-sleeved covering of midnight blue. The skin was a pale beige, and the mane atop its head was a light burnished-orange, both a striking difference to the grey and black she knew. Though, she wondered if the blue eyes were also different, having been closed to her in the waking-world.

“Why are you a cartoon?” he, most probably a he, said, given the tenor.

“What do you mean,” Luna coolly asked, the glow never leaving her horn, even as she glanced to the small blue bucket he held at his side, steaming with the scent of buttered corn, popped she'd learned.

The dreamer frowned, his face suddenly getting much paler, “It doesn’t matter,” he sighed, his elongated paws fiddling with the small bucket. His shoulders, if the minotaur equivalent was applicable, slumped, and despite the muted waves of despair that rolled off of him, the world still remained nearly motionless. “I won’t put up a fight, you can…” he frowned, a quiet shudder interrupting him, “You can finish me off now. I’m sorry.”

Luna stood there, a look of confusion and disgust held firmly in check from years of combat and political intrigue. This did not seem like a creature that enjoyed bringing torment to others, but looks meant little, especially when his actions spoke so much louder. Breaking and entering into countless homes, flooding her subjects minds, sleeping foals, with fear and nightmares. No, this was merely the dreamer's avatar, it was his unfettered memories that was the thing to be trusted. The vault had to be close, and he was wise in guarding it.

“Your punishment will be decided soon enough,” she replied coolly, “Until then, you will grant me access to your Vault of Memories lest I force you to do so myself,” tinting the last of her warning with an unmasked air of absolute authority. Its effects were immediate, and the dreamer went paler still.

“Uh,” his brows knitting, “Vault of Memories?”

Luna glared, her eyes turning to slits, her horn sparking as she casted for The Vault. Her horn tingled gently. She was so close, and he had the sheer audacity to pretend to not knowing. He who wielded such power over the mind, claimed to unknowing protection of such intimate knowledge. The power to stifle the mercurial flow of dreams themselves, and he still pretended to ignorance.

Unacceptable.

A beam of light shot up from her horn, weaving a circular pattern of magic above her head which fell in a diffused radiance of blue starlight, lifting her third magical seal. The dream space directly around her began warping like heat waves from the forge. Light blossomed within her eyes, as she took a single defiant and commanding step forward. Pressing her forehoof upon the ground, twisting the foreign dream to her design, the wooden floor turned an ashen shade of black. “Do not test me. I will not ask again.”

Luna gazed in satisfaction as the dreamer’s small nostrils flared, a dark cloud wisping up to him.

‘Dark cloud?’ she thought.

Taking her gaze off of the dreamer for but a moment she glanced briefly down where the blackened spot now had a small ring of fire surrounding itself and was already spreading upon the wooden floor. Looking back up she saw an empty space in the door-frame, only for the dreamer to reappear, skidding in his haste from the hallway across from her with, of all things, a fire extinguisher.

A single eyebrow rose, a crack in her otherwise superlative bearing, and leapt aside, raising a shield, only to watch as the dreamer rushed forward, fumbled with the pin, then put the fire out from where she had once stood. Surprising her further he then turned to her, eyes wide, and quickly asked, “Are you okay ma’am?”

“I am,” she said after a measured pause, tentatively lowering her shield, though the aggressive glow of magic remained upon her horn.

“Good, good” he mumbled, gaze shifting to the floor. Another pause, a sudden intake of breath, and an exhalation. “Look, I,” he started, his eyes squinting up to hers, despite the glow, swaying from foot to foot, “I really don’t know what you mean. I mean, I’ve never even been asleep this long before, and, I know I haven’t been thinking clearly, and because of how quiet it is in here I’ve finally been able to appreciate how terrible I’ve been and, look, I don’t expect any of this to be fixed with an apology, and I know that none of this excuses what I’ve done rather than ask for help, I just want to make sure it’s said: I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t fix anything,” Luna stated. The dreamer flinched. “But, if you will, if nothing else, not hamper my investigation further, then some measure of leniency may be, at least, considered.”

“Yes ma’am,” the dreamer nodded.

Luna gave a mental sigh, her shimmering aura flaring, and concentrated on her spell crafting, remaking the location spell and began to feel her way through the room to The Vault, though not without due notice of the "unthreatening" dreamer. Moving through a rather modestly sized kitchen it’s faux-tiled floor sloping in the middle to an even sparser den, her head swung to the left to a set of double doors, their panes made of glass, and whose contents were hidden by a set of curtains that hung upon the inside.

Stepping towards the door the dreamer gasped, “Nodon’t-” then paused, his face going red, as Luna turned to look behind, wings flaring. “That’s, my, was my parents room, when we, lived here” he finished lamely, the oddity of his statement dawning well before he had finished.

Sending down a tendril of magic to push on the levered-knobs, the doors swung inward, gently creaking as they moved. A cool draft of air swept forward pushing the scents of orange and talc to tickle at Luna’s nose as she stepped onto the maroon carpet that covered most of the wooden floor. The dreamer began to follow, but remained at the doorway when Luna turned to glare. A large bed with multiple white throw pillows and matching sheets sat most prominently at the far corner of the room, highlighted by the diffused light that fell from the window by the headboard through navy-blue curtains. It stood in sharp contrast to the chipped wardrobe and the folded treadmill ringing the room, but it was a small, and old looking vanity chest of drawers closest to the bed that drew the attention of her spell. There were many polished compartments of varying sizes, but it was only a small jewelry drawer nebulously in the middle that drew a line of sparks from her tracking spell. Pulling it open, clearly too small to hold so much as a broach, inside stood small, silvery bell shaped container, a line running around its middle. Pulling it apart she was greeted with a single tooth, a very small canine, but Luna was given no time to contemplate the slightly morbid discovery when the room around her began shimmering away in a sparkle of golden and silvery diamonds.

To the dreamer it looked as though Luna had simply disappeared, and anxiously began swaying left to right, not wanting to move lest Luna reappear, find him gone, and think he had run away from her. True, he was glad of the quietness of the dream, but, as much as he liked the quiet, even he was ready to admit being all alone was starting to get to him, if the random bouts of chuckling to stave off the boredom was any indication. She might even be able to answer whether or not he’d actually seen Discord. Everything had gotten pretty hazy right before he'd fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure whether or not that had been part of his dreams before even his dreams had settled down.

The minutes dragged forward, but it didn't matter. He was good at waiting, especially when he had a purpose, and then Luna reappeared in a flash of white light.

Blinking away the spots, when he could make her out again he saw her frown, shake her head, then look him over. The sudden spark of whatever emotion she’d let slip folded back down, and, with an air of finality stated, “Our business is not through Wayde Molan,” and, with a blast of sparkling amethyst, was gone, the light trailing up into the ceiling. But it didn’t disappear, it began to take up the ceiling, pulling it up like taffy. The walls began to follow, as did the floor, and-

***

“Ah”, I gasped, sitting up, seeing nothing but yellow light as far as the eye could see. It looked endless, but, as my eyes began to adjust, I could make out the corners of a small room, and, worse, the whispers of fear had begun to trickle back into my mind. I was awake.

‘God …’

‘D- hrrrmmm.’

Author's Notes:

So yeah, first rendition was not well received, thanks for the feedback on that by the way. Hopefully this will be more acceptable, if not, well, you can always let me know. Thank you for your time.

edit: 2/3/2015

Okay, got someone with a proficiency at editing to help with this chapter. For what you enjoy please thank GDQuirm; for what you don't like, well, that would fall on to me. So, enjoy, if you can, or want. Not gonna be pushy or anything.

edit: 7/5/2015

Combined this and the previous next chapter in a nice little Franken-stitch of a new chapter which streamlines what was a little too plodding for too little outcome.

((7)

Princess Celestia sat impassively, the breakfast tray of fresh, steaming apple turnovers with an almond glaze, one of her favorites, left untouched. “How could you have been so reckless Luna?” she said, her normally impassive and motherly tone tinged by the clipped words coming from her clenched jaw. “Did it even occur to you how reckless, how stupid it was delving into the mind of an alien creature is?”

Reaching for one of the spare, swan folded napkins Luna, with deliberate sloth, levitated one of the turnovers to herself. Raising an eyebrow she said, “Your chain of informants are, as ever, a credit to your resourcefulness," she replied, taking a nibble. "What you have been told is true, and while I did, potentially, put myself at risk, I hardly think it is inappropriate behavior for a Princess of Equestria to put the good of her ponies before her own," she frowned, "rather than send a hoofful into the muddied rain to do her bidding as she lounges in the archives.”

Reaching for, now, a third turnover, her appetite, now, Celestia cringed, ears flattening into her mane. True, it was a grand and sweeping over simplification, to put it kindly, she'd seen the rumor spread across all of Equestria, and many others, and often times at her own request. She'd be damned if her little ponies should ever fear to speak their minds. But, it was just another thing entirely to hear it from her own sister, even if it was only said in the heat of anger. She really had been more than a little over-protecting since she'd returned, and her powers had long since returned to their peak as well.

Placing the half finished pastry down, Celestia wiped away the crumbs sticking into the white fur of her lips. Then, taking a small breath, she stood up, eyeing her little sister, descending her throne. “Perhaps,” she said, her sister holding her gaze easily, “but please," her voice cracking, "be more careful," embracing her sister, tears pooling under her eyes, "I can’t lose you again.”

"Nor I,” Luna whispered, pulling her sister in tighter.

***

Having placed many of the wards herself, and overseen the majority of the others, Princess Celestia sat drinking a cup of red zebrican tea, secure in the knowledge she was currently looking down into the fourth most secure structure Equestria had to offer from the encircling observation deck. Of course, a number of these wards had been recently added a few centuries thanks to Starswirl, who'd ever had an a penchant for delving into the extreme ends of practical and theoretical magical application. But, he had been quite an exciting fellow, and a good friend.

The sound of hoofsteps took Celestia out of her reverie as the head of the Mage guild stepped forward and bowed quickly before the princess, causing the mass of grey that branched sporadically across his head to fall before his eyes. Brushing it back with a chestnut hoof, he stood to attention.

“There’s no need to stand on formality with me Brainstorm,” Celestia smiled.

“Perhaps,” the wrinkled earth pony replied, his salt and pepper mustache curving up at the tips, “but humor a young pony if you would.”

Celestia chuckled, he was making jokes. That was a good sign.

“So, tell me, what you have learned today?”

“A-hem, Dear Princess Celestia,” his old voice crackled, “today, I have learned that life, as we know it, does not require the basic six thaums of magic to keep a spirit bound to a sapient body.”

“Excuse me?” Celestia said, her levitated cup almost lowering a full inch in surprise.

“Well, yes. We initially thought our machines and frameworks had somehow malfunctioned, but even after we went through the process of manually recasting every spell we found no magical tether keeping our bipedal friend’s spirit to his body. It’s really quite fascinating.”

“But it has a spirit?” Celestia asked, stepping closer to the observation window, her tea gently floating behind her, gazing down at the cube of glowing yellow-quartz.

“Of that we are quite certain, but that's just the thing, one of the earliest faults that caught our attention was the prisoner's weight. It fluctuated, in fact, it sometimes managed to not exist at all, the body itself fluctuating between full spirit and full body. How this creature is able to accomplish this feat we have no idea, but we suspect that it doesn't know it can do so itself."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Well, when it was first brought in here, there were no spiritual wards aside from the standard anti-astral-projection spell. If it had known any better, it would have fazed through its holding cell back during its transport to Canterlot after it awoke. We've since added the appropriate measures, and this was all after we'd begun to discover its dietary requirements. It finished off its first rations of dried fish quickly enough though, suggesting it still eats, or believes it needs to eat. So, we’ve begun to lace his water rations with Horseshoe Bay pineapple juice, and expect our little friend there to become quite chatty once we establish communications with him.”

“Very good, please keep me informed of your progress Professor,” she said, exiting the sterile room in flash of golden light.

“As you wish Princess,” he smiled, trotting back to his colleagues.

***

Pausing to take a sip of the sweetened water they left in the mug beside my tray of long-since eaten bread, hay, and muffin, bar the hay, and I really hope the bread and muffin were wholly edible. I supposed the tray wouldn’t refill until, it too, was completely emptied, but I simply wasn’t going to eat grass. They had to notice eventually, right? I mean, I ate the fish, that should have told them something at least.

That, however, wasn’t my biggest concern. No, for the past twenty minutes a single irritating and increasingly painful thought had crept past the glowing stream of strangely static sounding fear this new city's populace had decided to grace me with, repeating itself in-time with the twinging sensation in my midsection as I paced the small cell: there wasn’t a bathroom in here.

Not so much as a bucket and I desperately needed to go.

Flicking my hand out, a small swirl of nightmare-sand swirled out. I thought about sending a message to them, or something, but when I tried to press it against the wall it just wouldn’t budge. The only thing I could potentially do was add more pressure, and I definitely wasn’t risk that, not with those ponies out there, circling my little box, I wasn't going to chance letting and shards or shrapnel bury into them.

“Arrgh,” I moaned, “I just wanna pee!” and began to slam my head into the nearby wall only to jerk forward as it continued its arc. Standing, looking, now, upside-down at the rest of my body with a shadowy-head, it didn’t take but three seconds to gape at my stupidity, argue with myself that I was a prisoner, remember Pitch had been able to turn to shadow on the reflective tiles of the Tooth Palace, and then fly across the floor and walls to find the nearest God-damn bathroom.

It took an agonizing three minutes to find one, having to stay near the surface, and upon reaching an all too familiar row of white porcelain urinals, I prudently stepped towards a stall door, grateful to have found the place empty.

Unbuttoning my pants I let a sigh of relief, but almost stopped mid-stream as the stall echoed around me. ‘Huh, they have pretty good acoustics in here,’ I thought.

Even with the fear, now louder than ever pounding into my thoughts, that glowing room really had messed with my head, it occurred to me that if they were going to blast me or turn me to stone they would have done it already. Sure they might not know if it’ll work on me, I know I didn’t, but they’d have at least tried if they really felt like they had to.

Maybe it was the fresh air, or maybe it was something in the water, but things just didn’t seem so, well, dark. Maybe I was being just a little too hard on myself.

Another thought, a smile beginning to crack the side of my face, and I started to hum a few bars, testing the acoustics of the blue and white tiled room. The echoes were melding into each other with a decided note of perfection, clipping off just at the ends.

Whispering a hushed, “You know you make wanna,” and listened to the walls echo ‘ahna-ahna-ahna’.

With a half-cocked grin, all the fear just didn't seem so important for some reason, and I sent the frat-house tune bouncing across the walls as I busied myself with the first few lyrics, repeating them until I heard a soft reply of, “shout.”

I was already losing myself to the song, and figured it had to have been just an echo; it stood to reason that pony hooves were, while many things, not stealthy, but then it got louder.

“Shout.”

Pausing, the tank finally empty, I buttoned my pants. Leaning my ear to the edge of the stall I finally added, “Don’t forget to say yeah yeaa yeah yeaa.”

“Saaay you will,” came the very real, and un-echoed, harmony in reply.

Heart pounding and dream-sand, now, biting up my left calf, I gingerly leaned forward to flush. Wondering if I should just vanish into the wall, I steeled myself with a surge of righteous indignation, sand clearing, and I thought better of it. There had been no bloody toilet in that cell, and as a matter of fact I should be giving those guards a piece of my mind!

Sliding back the lock, a sneer locked and loaded, I took a step out, only to see a group of five royal guards, two of whom were decked in purple rather than gold; all of them were sporting a pair of wings.

I wanted to chew them out, I really did, the perverts, well, maybe not, but when I looked into their faces and saw the utter joy plastered on them, my anger began to fade, leaving me in semi-circle of confused faces.

Rolling my eyes, I knew what I had to do. Taking a steadying breath, I pointed to the nearest one and sang, “I want you to know…

***

The Operating Theatre was in full panic.

An emergency scroll had been sent out, and within fifteen seconds Celestia had appeared in a flash of golden light. Moving to the princess, Brainstorm began apprising her of the situation, explaining that all there scans were reporting an utter absence of matter or movement within the holding cell. Celestia, quick to react, trotted to the nearest parchment, writing a request that her sister call a recess on the Night Court and begin scanning for any new clusters of nightmares within her little ponies. Within moments the scroll vanished in a blaze of green-fire.

As the minute passed, Celestia busied herself with a few older scrying spells, hoping to find some sort of trail, when a swirl of mystic fire leapt from her horn, revealing a scroll bearing the silver seal of Princess Luna. Unrolling the parchment, Princess Celestia scanned its contents, gave a single nod, and blinked from view, leaving behind a flurry of golden sparks to fall from a hastily made teleportation spell.

Moving to the, now, singed edges of the scroll, his curiosity, as always, getting the better of him, Brainstorm read:

Fear not, I battle with the prisoner within the confines of the Night Court.

“Oh dear,” he trembled, running a hoof through his mane to steady himself. Now was not the time to let his emotions get the better of him, not if he was going to remember where he last left his camera and tripod. After all, if somepony was going to record a battle with the princesses firsthoof, he’d have to act quickly before the opportunity was lost to him.

***

Dark dream-sand coiling behind me in scattered pockets as I stared daggers at Princess Luna and the squad of night-guardponies behind her, wracking my brain for my next move. It wasn't fair, their military uniformity only bolstering their sense of fluidity, their flawless execution of every last one of their actions, their deep voices. They were so well trained, but that didn't mean it made losing any easier, or that I wasn't going to try and win anyway.

A flash of golden light filled the room, briefly blinding me, a nod of my head brought a small wave of sand to doming over my eyes as I blinked away the spots. Pulling it back, I nearly quaked at the sight of the small slag-filled crater beside Princess Luna where a ferocious looking Celestia stood steaming at the ready. I’d barely kept up with one princess, having rallied the guards to her with alarming speed. There was no way I’d be able to take them on with Celestia at their aid.

But that flash, that golden- no, bronze, brass. Metal.

That was it.

With a silent command, the sand fell to the floor, stretching out to the walls behind me, bisecting the room. Another thought, and the it began to vanish beneath the stone floor, leaving me seemingly unarmed.

“You really shouldn't have given me that little break,” I breathed, a mad grin pulling at the corners of my mouth.

Stretching my hands out to my sides, I brought them together for a resounding clap, the sand blooming above me, curving into a massive bell to rival the likes of any church tower.

Luna wordlessly scoffed, while Celestia glowered, eyes slitted.

Not wanting to leave them in the dark, pocketing my right hand, I gave a flick of my wrist and the 'bell' swung. No ringing peel, the bell remained silent, but shook as a thick sliver of sand reverberated away, sounding a very literal ding.

Celestia’s horn flared, a protective sphere of golden light quickly forming around Luna and herself.

“Fuddy-duddy,” I mumbled, letting the bell swing back, the second visible reverberating sliver sounding a 'dong'. Ignoring her little light show, I wasn't going to win the sing-off if I didn't keep my concentration, I continued to call out more slivers from the ringing bell, each adding an individual voice to the growing song, and none of that mystical musical accompaniment from the aether nonsense either, just the power of voices.

The high ceiling only helped to spread the sand's echoing words, the reverberations eventually shaking into satyrs, their Mr. Tumnus vibe only slightly marred by their claw-like fingertips, but it still felt right somehow. And then, they began to leap, moving in time with the song as I fell into it. Wisping trails for sand flowed behind them like broken after images, trailing their music behind them, filling the air, turning to garland as their fingertips traced upon the walls behind me, sparkling darkly under the gleam of the crystal chandeliers.

And then it was over, the lasts echoes fading as the sand scurried into the shadows of my coat, the beginnings of a headache trying to rub against my eyes, but in the gathering silence I knew, if nothing else, I'd won their attention, and it was all the sweeter when it shattered to the guard’s hammering applause, Princess Luna’s face, silent, and red with envy, and Princess Celestia’s shifting gaze. I love winning.

Bringing up my hand up to cough politely, I gave a pointed look to Princess Luna, who, in turn, gave a small dip of her head and in a decidedly offhanded tone said, “Hmm, well done, but be forewarned: you will not fair quite so easily the next time a melody takes myself or our subjects.”

I nodded, glad that something had managed to go right today. I know I was certainly more than ready to admit how much better I'd thought they'd done. I mean, losing always stings, but it always stings a little less when the opponents can win with such beauty of form and movement.

Luna then dismissed both hers and the last few dregs of her sister’s guards before turning Celestia, and with an imperial tone said, “I am sorry, but I did not expect him to execute something of that caliber. I know how you enjoy your vocal acts of harmony, but I also know when to call a draw. Perhaps next time we shall have a chance to properly best him together. Now come,” she said, walking towards me, and, by proxy, the door beyond, “there is much we have to discuss.”

Keeping pace just behind and to the left of the princesses, we began to walk through the halls. Celestia continued to glare at me out the corner of her eye, and nearly ended up stumbling into a maid Luna had stopped to request the chefs, quote, ‘initiate a midnight protocol for three’, the mocha pegasus nodded, and took wing down the passage, having gone left where we went right.

Another two halls of white crystalline-light were passed before stopping in front of a thick set of simple wooden-doors. With a gentle push of her hoof, the doors parted for Luna as I followed behind, and began to gaze at the elegant splendor of the room within. I felt decidedly under-dressed in what I could only assume was an eating-chamber for the likes of ambassadors to enjoy a more private setting with fellow ambassadors and royalty alike to discuss matters of state. From the crown moldings to the soft yellow light of the multiple chandeliers, the room permeated the air with an all soothing aura meant to keep tempers and words as cool as the snow-white marble of the walls.

The central space, taken up by a low crystal-topped table, which looked as though it might comfortably hold ten, had but three chairs. Well, low, wide benches with a high back, circling it. Waiting for the princesses to be seated before taking my own, I clasped my hands together and placed them on the table, fearing I would busy them with sand otherwise.

In the short silence that followed, a buttermilk unicorn with a taffy-pink mane pushed in a wide cart so steaming with chocolate treats the smell alone had me wishing for a drink to wash it down with. Silently placing a small brown cake dripping with syrup and crowned with peels of white chocolate, it was followed quickly by the appropriate silverware and a goblet of ice-cold milk; he wasn’t even out the door before both princesses had taken at least five bites between them, with Celestia quickly working on her fourth.

Gently picking up my own fork, my heart nearly leapt from my chest as my hand began to pass through it before the stem gently pushed out my fingers, seemingly content to remain solid, for now. A little shaken, I found my concern slip away as the first small bite passed my lips, gently melting across my tongue and caressing my taste-buds.

I must have blurred out a little then because the next thing I knew I was hearing what sounded like Luna speaking before I caught “-nd so, with the melody already in full swing, and with him at the lead no less, I let the harmony continue. But, upon its completion, I found something had begun to stir within me, a new song springing to my lips mere moments after. He, on the other hoof,” Luna said through a mouth-full of chocolate, magically pointing to me with her fork, “seemed to take it as a sign of attack and-”

“My pardon, but,” I interrupted, causing both princesses to turn to me, “I… just, didn’t like the song.”

“Yes, well,” Luna continued, unperturbed, “he, quickly losing the guardsponies around him as they joined into my superior melody, began to call on his black sand, bolstering his own with the sounds of both string and brass instrumentation behind him. The melodies, while differing, melded surprising well. The songs began to ebb and flow against one another, tensions began to mount, and that’s when your message to put my Night Court duties on hold came through. This, and I should thank you for that, surprised him enough his melody began to falter, allowing my victory to end with a mighty crescendo. Then, ordering the guards to keep an eye on him lest he begin again while I was distracted with your message, I wrote a reply, he made plans to regain his points, and that’s when you showed up.”

Seemingly content with her story, Luna began to scour her plate with magic until every last crumb of cake and drop of chocolate was compacted into a single morsel. Gently placing the precious orb upon her tongue, leaving behind a sparkling plate, she slowly chewed the last of her dessert and then began to empty her goblet of milk.

Celestia, having finished her own cake long before, sat still, her mane gently flowing over the left side of her face, leaving her half-lidded cyclopean-gaze to slowly shift from her sister to me. “Today’s events would certainly seem to suggest that there is far more to our current situation than I had once thought,” Celestia said sedately, “but, before we discuss anything further, I would ask you to tell me how you escaped your observation cell.”

“I just turned into shadow ma’am,” I replied, reaching for my drink to swallow the lump in my throat, “but I really did have to use the restroom.”

A single eyebrow, at least, the only one I could see, rose on Celestia’s face as she gave a quiet ‘hmm’.

“Perhaps,” Celestia said after a few moments, “now that we are all in something of a cordial mood, you might tell us why you have begun to spread nightmares across the dreams of my little ponies.”

Shrinking into my shoulders at the accusation, and feeling all the more ridiculous for having my legs nearly splayed out beneath the low table before me, I began to speak.

From sleeping in a hotel bed to terrorizing the dreams of ponies, the princesses remained silent. Their only question being how I could know so much of their land if I were truly an alien. I answered, and their reactions, if anything, were too muted for me to notice, save for a slight turn of Luna’s head upon hearing Equestria was nothing short of a writer's imagination back in my world.

By the end of it I was completely drained, holding up my head with little more than the concentration it took to keep my breathing under control as the princesses quietly looked to each other.

Blinking, unsettlingly, in unison, it was Princess Celestia who first turned to me and said, “While this unfortunate turn of events saddens me, you have both our word that what happened to the first pony you encountered was not our doing, nor any of the others you have suspected. We would never tamper with the minds of our little ponies, and neither would anypony under our command.”

‘Heh. Nothing. I’d spent the better part of a month spreading nightmares to children for nothing,’ I thought, instantly, as Celestia continued.

“A unique position has opened before us, and I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for not realizing this sooner. I can only hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me,” she said contritely, lowering her chin to me. “I cannot quite fathom how this all must appear to you, but I should hope we might begin anew. While we cannot promise you a way home in all good faith, both Luna and I give our word as Princesses of Equestria that we will search for a way to send you back home.”

“Indeed,” Luna sedately intoned.

“And what about my powers?” I asked quietly.

Celestia and Luna gave each other a pointed glance before Luna said, “It has been our experience that, with very few exceptions, once power has bonded to a pony, it will seldom leave without great repercussions to the spirit, soul, or body, and often times to all three. However, both Equestria and the lands beyond hold many powers and secrets that have yet to be revealed, but, as our sister has said, we can only offer an attempt to be made.”

I nodded, never expecting so grand as offer to begin with.

“Well then,” Celestia said, her smiling tone melting away the tension in the room, “if we are to have a fresh start, then I suppose introductions should be made. Hello, I am Celestia, Princess of Equestria and guardian of the day.”

“Greetings,” said Luna, taking the cue, “I am Luna, Princess of Equestria and guardian of the night. And who might you be?” she politely asked, an inviting smile on her face.

“Umm,” I mumbled, a bit embarrassed, before straightening up and saying, “Hello, my name is Wayde Molan, and, I think I’m the Boogeyman, and… I don’t think I’m a guardian” I finished, lamely.

“Wayde Molan,” Princess Celestia said, her tone, once more, taking a serious bent, “we welcome you to Equestria, and expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning to begin working off your debt to Equestria and The Crown. My sister,” she smirked, “will show you to your lodgings,” and disappeared in a flash of golden light before her sister could give so much as a sideways glance.

Blinking away the spot from my eyes, I heard a long winded exhalation from the Princess Luna’s seat. Looking towards her gauzy outline, I watched as she got up, starry-mane gently trailing behind her, and approach me before taking a seat on the floor beside me.

Taking a quiet breath, she looked up to me, and said, “There is much that might be said in regards to how you’ve handled your time in Equestria, and while I would not presume to claim a complete understanding of who you are, I would like to believe you are someone who wishes to do good in the world.”

I just stared, not knowing what to say as a knot of guilt and pride began squirming in my stomach.

“Please just know that both I and my sister do, indeed, wish to help you.”

I nodded as silence filled the room.

“Now, if you would kindly follow me,” Luna said, getting to her hooves, “I’m afraid I've still some courtly duties to attend to before night’s end.”

She waited, watching me nod and get to my feet before turning to the door.

Through long hallways filled with elegant vases, busts, paintings, tapestries, and windows of stained-glass, I was quickly brought to a regular sized, for me, wooden door, gilt in gold. Pushing the door open Luna gestured for me to step. “Please make yourself comfortable,” she said warmly. “The facilities are on the door to your right, the left leads to a luggage closet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I hope you will have a good night.” And with a flash of cerulean light, I was alone.

Stepping in, I began inspecting the spacious room. The high ceiling and large balcony suggesting this was probably meant for anyone with a good set of wings. In fact, it was far more spacious that I was really comfortable with, but with the heavy plum-colored drapes and tapestries depicting cloud covered forests and mountains with a strangely Celtic theme adorning the walls, it gave the room an impression of openness rather than simple largeness.

Shrugging off my boots, I decided to shuffle my way to the rounded canopy-bed across the shimmering oil-colored carpeting and into creamy sheets of the bed, which, now that I was in it, felt more like a futon than an actual bed, but that was fine, especially with how warm the sheets were quickly becoming.

With a yawn, I sent my sand to spiral up the posts and pull down the curtains ringing the canopy. They swiftly went to work, their rubbing upon one another sounding like gentle rain, and soon the thick sheeting was unfurled. Curling into a ball, the darkness doing little to impede my vision, I began the arduous task of finding a comfortable spot in a bed that wasn't mine. It would be forty-five minutes at least before I would get any sleep, and with the likes of tomorrow staring down at me I’d need as much sleep as I could muster to help stare it back down. After all, who else was going to do it?

Author's Notes:

Must admit, I feel a little unsure of this chapter, but you can't ever go entirely wrong with good acapella, so there.

Credit to movie Beer For My Horses

(8)

Gently rubbing a pearl-white feather to his eyes, Sergeant Grey Wind brought out his brass pocket watch to mark the time, 6:30 AM, the creature, Wayde Molan, was still asleep and in bed. Though, according to the night guardspony he’d relieved, the creature had only just gotten to bed a mere six hours ago, having tossed and turned in fitful bouts for the two hours previous.

“And what is our little guest up to this morning,” came the dulcet tone of Princess Celestia in his right ear.

Wings ruffling in surprise, Sergeant Wind stiffly replied, “The creature has yet to awaken Princess.”

“Thank you for your vigilance Sergeant, you are dismissed.”

With a smart salute, Sergeant Grey Wind left both the scrying chamber and Celestia to her thoughts.

Looking to the gem-set screen Celestia marveled at what she had been told the previous night. Not the fact her world was considered naught but fantasy, but rather, with all the information that he’d had, all Wayde had wanted was enough energy to stay alive, only going on a scaring-spree when he thought both she and Luna were trying to snuff out the memories of their subjects. What must his own world be like for such a conclusion to be so readily reached despite, or even in spite, what a great evil it was to alter another’s memories, the very thing which made a pony a pony.

All the same, he would need to be dealt with, and considering Wayde was in a form hitherto unknown to him or her subjects, the first thing to do would be to get both her ponies and himself better acquainted with it. But how to manage it, Celestia pondered, a few wisps of ideas already growing with the smile on her lips.

***

Sleep clinging to the edges of my consciousness, I began the laborious process of licking at the dried corners of my mouth with an equally dry tongue, unwilling to yet tackle the feat of getting up. Already the actions from last night were returning to me, and I was far from pleased.

Making a fool of myself? Singing? Dancing? What the hell was wrong with me? And speaking out of turn? I must have been high.

Maybe there was something in the air?

Well, whatever it was, it had dissipated enough for me to at least think clearly again, or at least not want to embarrass myself in front of strangers. I couldn’t afford to be so reckless, not when the Princesses had made it clear they had wanted to help me. If I was going to get home as quickly as possible, then I was going to have to show off enough mental stability so they could focus on getting me home and out of this fear-ridden body.

Cracking open my eyes, I slowly sat up, wincing at the snippets of light that sparkled along the gloss of the carpet and up the cracks in the overhanging bed’s canopy.

Reacting to my discomfort, and without a great deal of thought, I flung out my hand, sand springing forth from my palm, and began clouding out the few drips of sunlight that had managed to find me.

It simply amazed me how utterly normal it felt to be so… empowered. Fearsomeness aside, I could now fly under my own power and travel great distances in the less than the blink of an eye, but at what cost?

With a yawn, I let those thoughts slide off my tired mind. It wouldn’t do me any good to keep meditating on them like that. So, pushing back the covers and lifting my leg in one fell motion, I screwed my eyes shut and threw back the curtain, only to trip on the heavy fabric and roll out onto the lush, carpeted floor. Slowly opening my eyes, I tried to remember which door led to the bathroom. I was going to need a shower an- *knock knock knock*

“Is everything alright in there,” a concerned, muffled voice called from the hall.

Definitely the door on the left then.

“Yes ma’am. Sorry, not used to curtains on my beds I’m afraid.”

“Hello?” the voice called again as a honey-yellow snout slowly inched in, “I said is everything alright?”

“I said I wa-”

“HellooOOoo?”

Stepping into the room a pegasus, her creamy mane tucked smartly in a bun, began eyeing the room, her gaze never stopping at my sprawled form at the side of the bed.

A muffled voice called from down the hall, drawing her attention as my morning daze burst apart. I was not going to spend my days forever worrying on how others would or wouldn’t see me, and I especially wasn’t going to be ignored by someone whose greatest fear was garden gnomes.

Icy bunnies.

With a questioning glance I pawed at the rug, and, reaching beneath me, I grasped at something that I could only begin to describe as a thin sheet of water, but it stuck to my hand all the same. I carefully pulled it up, feeling all too much like a passenger in my own body as I draped the shadow over my lap where it squirmed for a moment before settling onto me like a bolt of ghostly-lace. Pulling a few more shadows from beneath me a sudden gasp alerted me to my visual-success, but I didn’t stop until the sheets of darkness covered every part of my body. Looking up and through the smoky, for me, veil I saw the black pin-pricks of the maid’s eyes, if her feather duster cutie mark was anything to go by, though I thought better than to stand up and tower over her. Reaching beneath me, I pulled out some more shadows, and, frowning as they fought against my finer manipulations, slowly molded out:

Royal guest. Not a threat.

Ears splayed firmly back upon her head, the words seemed to calm her enough to gulp down a breath of air to manage a shaky, “R-right, s-s-so, is everything alright in here?”

I gave an exaggerated nod and was quickly left to the sound of echoing hooves racing to the end of the hall. Looking back down I saw that the letters had turned runny, and were slowly sliding towards the nearest source of shadow, which happened to be under my feet as I stood up. Deciding to praise my good fortune that the veil of shadows clinging to me had yet to turn runny as well, I headed toward the restroom; it had been some weeks since my last proper shower.

***30 Minutes Later***

What warmth I had managed to attain from the shower was quickly leaving me as the damp of my pants and jacket continued to dry upon me. Granted, I could have let them dry longer under the hair-dryer they had in there, but that would have taken far more time than I was willing to lend it. Besides, I had a toasty pair of socks and underpants to keep me warm for the time being.

That was something I needed to add to my ever-growing list, more clothes. I could only imagine how much I must have reeked to the Princesses last night. Still, I needed to find someone, and find out what community service I was going to perform for the day.

Approaching the door, I knew before I got there that there was someone new standing behind it as they gave three quick raps upon the slightly-open door. Sticking my head out the side I was greeted by the all too unimpressed stare of-

“Hey, names Spitfire,” she said, sizing me up, her flaming orange-mane flickering with the subtle movements of her head. “I’ve been told I get to put you through the ringer, but since you’re something of a novelty around here I’ve been forced to get a bit creative. So, lets hustle up to the mess,” she said, already turning down the hall, “we’ll have a late breakfast and have you on the field by oh eight-hundred for some,” she paused, turning her head slightly to flash a toothy grin, “war-games.”

It was a little hard to hold back my chuckle as she pulled out a pair of shades from her dress-blues jacket and put them on. Granted, the light streaming in through the windows was rather bright, but it was too good to pass up. But, it wasn’t stifled nearly enough to escape the yellow-pegasus attention as she a much louder chuckle of her own in return, and added, “Glad to see you’re ready to have just as great a day as I am.”

***

A stomach full of oatmeal and freshly diced strawberries later in what I could only assume was the barracks wing of the castle given how spartan the place had been, though the sign reading ‘Mess Hall’ was something to consider as well, I was trotted out onto a dirt field where a chalk rectangle had been freshly laid out. It wasn’t too big, really, but what caught my attention was the center of the field where a white line had bisected the field, though what was particularly eye-catching was the line of red rubber-balls placed along it.

‘It couldn’t be’ I thought as Spitfire pulled out a whistle to blow, where upon six golden-armored guardsmen, two from each pony tribe, quickly marched out double-time from the castle into a single, unblinking row before her.

“Now,” she grinned, turning to face me, “these fine gentlecolts are going to help me and the Princesses assess your speed, agility, and general offensive and defensive capabilities in a little game we like to call, dodge ball.”

She started going over the rules as I was pointed to my end of the field. It was remarkably similar, the only thing of note being that no magic was allowed and that I was to be given six hits before I was considered out while the guardsponies would each remain at one. Even with that ‘advantage’, I still felt like I was getting short-changed.

As the whistle blew, much as I suspected, the elite members of the guard were in, what I could only assume was, peak physical condition, and were much faster than me… for the first few seconds they had. Then, to my widening-surprise I began to catch up to them with each sweep of my greater stride. I nearly ended up disqualifying myself as I was forced to dig my heels into the dirt so I wouldn’t cross the line. Wobbling enough to keep my balance, I grabbed a ball in each hand before scuttling back to gain some distance. The guards did much the same, but rather than immediately pelt me with rubbery-death, they stood crouched and at the ready, waiting for the alien to make the first move.

Knocking my arm back we all watched as my shot went hilariously wide of my defensibly-scattered opponents, and, much to my dismay, they quickly retaliated. The two unicorns rose to their hind legs and, wearing matching grins, threw their balls. The next thing I knew, I watched as the two spheres whished past the open space where my upper-torso had previously been. Righting myself, I felt my spine return to the vertical, my eyes wide in surprise, and a shaky grin growing with the new wave of adrenaline pumping through my veins.

‘Whoa, am I… faster?’ I wondered as I watched the pegasi toss their balls in the air, only to swat them with an open wing as it fell passed their sides. This time, the balls came in both high and low, but I slid my feet across the dirt quick as thinking, and watched as the first one passed safely above me as the other went through the gap. However, it was just at that time I noticed the two earth ponies who, managing to sneak to the sides of the dirt-brown field despite their brilliant white-fur and sparkling golden-armor, had given a tremendous buck and sent their balls to blur across the air and into my chest.

The force of the impact, knocked, no, threw me back, and would have continued on for a number of feet had I not toppled to my back.

Clothes in disarray and, now, utterly stained, I laid there with the full intent of waiting to catch my breath before the pain of a broken ribcage fell upon me with a vengeance.

I waited.

And then, I waited some more, and I would have continued to wait had Spitfire not flapped to my side, ears beginning to turn, and said, “Whoa there soldier, you okay?”

“I,” I mumbled, slowly moving my left arm, fearing that every pull of the myriad of muscles it took to shift the appendage above my chest would send the whole house of cards to collapse and bring me into the screaming pain of reality, but nothing happened. Then, the moment of truth; bringing down the lightest of feathery touches, I pressed upon my sternum.

Nothing.

I pressed down harder, eventually adding my palm and then my second hand altogether. Nothing. I was fine.

Finally, slack-jawed, as I slowly began sitting up I said, “I should be dead.”

“Come again,” she demanded, an edge of anxiety creeping into her hardened voice.

“Maybe it’s the body, or maybe it’s something about this world,” I said, getting to my feet, patting away the dirt from the seat of my pants, “but, not only am I uninjured, I don’t even feel any discomfort.”

“Interesting,” she replied, a hoof rising to rub her chin, with an eyebrow to match it.

‘Oh dear.’

“Guess that means we can start letting the colts use a little magic then,” she said, her cocky grin folding back into place. “Now get back into position,” she said, whipping her tail at my shins as she flew back to the sidelines, “you’ve still got four more hits before you lose, and trust me, if my colts don’t like taking laps around the castle,” she turned, watching me pale, “well, good to know some forms of learning hold true across the worlds.”

My only response was to give a quiet gulp and move back into place as the whistle went off, sending me diving to the nearest ball, and hoping that the growing glow from the unicorns across the way wouldn’t end up hurting me too bad. I really didn’t have to worry about holding my sides together with such a long run looming over me.

***

From one of the many balconies that festooned the royal Canterlot Castle, Celestia watched as her wayward guest slowly chuffed his way around the corner and up the hills of the outer rose-path again. She hadn’t caught what lap he was on when she’d first spotted him, but by the look of things, should he trip, he would likely not get up again.

Taking another sip of her afternoon tea, she gave a nod to Captain Spitfire who was busy maintaining her thousand-yard stare as she lowered her salute. “Please be at ease my little pony, and tell me what you’ve learned today.”

Spitfire, glad for a chance to relax, but still choosing to remain standing, gently removed her sun-shades, and said, “All in all, Wayde seems to have a skeletal structure much like a minotaur, though, given his flexibility, which surprised him as much as me from the way he managed to contort himself away during today’s game, his durability is beyond what I would have expected for somepony of his mass, especially with his utter lack of magic if the labcolts are to be believed.”

“And what would you say of his character?” Celestia added, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, knowing how Spitfire liked to keep her business and emotions in check when she was on duty.

With only the slightest of hesitations, Spitfire replied, “While it’s rather early to say for certain, I would hazard he takes things rather seriously, though,” she added, bringing a hoof to her chin, thinking back to how he had thanked the mess-cooks for holding a late breakfast for him, “he shows a propensity for honor that, were he a pony, would have me winging him to a few recruiters to see how he might like their sales-pitch.”

“Very good,” Celestia said, her gentle smile growing, “and how did he feel about the continuation of this little learning experience?”

Spitfire, grinning in kind, replied, “A little nonplussed, but he seemed to be having a good enough time while on the field, especially when his aim began to miss by a few hands instead of a few yards.”

“Well then, while I’m not one to interfere with another’s work, might I ask how many laps you instructed our guest to complete for his losses upon the field?”

“Uh,” Spitfire hummed, scratching the back of her neck, “Since we don’t know how much he’s currently capable of I just told him to run until he got tired. Why?”

“Well, I think you might want to send somepony down there to check up on him, because I’m not entirely sure he understands the distinction between tired and exhaustion.”

“Right away Princess,” Spitfire grinned, winging off to send Wayde off to the showers, and let Celestia finish off her tea beside the swirling pinks and purples of the sunset. It was a few minutes late, and, at any rate, she needed to get her own rest too. Tomorrow was going to be another fun filled day of off-worlder boot-camp.

Author's Notes:

Well, something big coming up next, though I think a few people already know what it is.

(9) Mk. C: Ferrous Princesses

Author's Notes:

With some measure of trepidation, I bring you the start of this cross-over with Buck you, I'm Iron Man.

Spinning on my heel, still amazed over my new-found flexibility and balance, I watched, back nearly horizontal to the ground, as the dodge-ball whizzed over my chest. Whipping back up, I had just enough time to stare at the glowing cloud of sapphire-sparks ringing the latest flying red-orb as it struck me square in the face and sent me sprawling to the ground.

Blowing her whistle, Spitfire shouted, “Sixth strike, The Guard wins.”

Rubbing the reflexive-tears from my eyes as I rolled back to my feet, I set about to retrieve the balls that littered my side of the field as the guardsponies did the same. I still couldn’t quite believe this was considered community service, but it was the princesses’ prerogative to decide what my duties were to entail, and if that meant acting as a target for six on one dodgeball, so be it.

After lining the mid-field, we went to our respective edges, eyeing the referee for the sudden inhalation of breath, but even when I knew it was coming I was still woefully slow to react once the shrill note came. The guards on the other hand had their hooves tearing into the dirt as I played catch-up, but my longer stride soon saw me grabbing an armful of inflated rubber just as the others kicked their own ammo back to ‘base’ and began to set their defence as I did much the same.

Carefully dropping my precious cargo to the ground, save the two I held in each hand, I arched my left arm for a shot that I, and everyone on the field, knew would go wide when, suddenly, someone whispered “Guardian” in my ear.

Flinching at the sudden noise, my shot struck the horn of an opposing unicorn, leaving a stunned look of surprise that one of my throws had actually hit its mark to mirror on our faces, save mine turned to a smile much quicker. However, my it soon shrank as I felt my feet slowly begin sliding backwards across the dirt-floor. Looking behind me to give a cry of foul to whatever unicorn was currently using magic to incapacitate a player, instead, I was greeted by a floating ring of shimmering golden-sand with a cold holding a swirling mass of emptiness at its center.

Black sand sprung up around me, painfully spiking into my shins and calves as it attempt to anchor me to the ground, but to no avail. Trying next for the shadows, I only found the pull intensified and was flung instantly into the swirling vortex as the golden light winked out of existence behind me, leaving me to fall through the void with the distressed-echoes of ‘Wayde’ to die in my ears.

***

Equestria: Version 1920.1518.13

I was cold, it was dark, and I was disturbingly aware of how close I was to eating my breakfast for a second time today as I rocketed through the void of wherever I was. That there was something that could be darker than what a lack of light could create might have frightened or even intrigued me were it not for the back-sand clinging to me like a swarm of angry bees, but I almost regretted their abandonment as the hateful golden-light flashed behind, or, in front of me, and deposited me in a twisted heap as my thoughts began the ardent journey of swimming upstream a demented whirlpool as my eyes waited for those damn green and blue motes to quit blocking the view.

Figuring I had nothing left to lose with all the symptoms of a head-rush and then some clogging up my senses, I slowly untangled my limbs from my jacket with every intention to get to a standing position, only to find I already was, but my victory was short lived as a sudden chill brought my knees cracking upon the very hard, and very real stone-floor beneath me. Just catching myself with my hands before my head met the same fate, I watched in something just past rapt-attention and before horror as my flickering-fingers left shrinking trails of dust upon the floor.

I didn’t know how or why I had been blessed with at least a single iota of belief, but my shrunken-form left no debate about the fact I was just one pony away from the black-tide that would force me into a state of bloodied-terror until nightfall, but first, I had to get away from wherever this was and find Luna. She could help.

Gulping down a breath of air, I dove to the shadows and, shaking away the last of the cobwebs, looked for the lights. Looking next to me, I found a singular light, but with too many unknowns my safest bet was to not waste my time with some random nut in a cave; not with every last drop of belief, save one, having fallen from me for no known reason, and especially not when I had someone of at least some known and appreciable power that might help me, and those chances only grew given the bizarre occurrences the bearers of Elements of Harmony, even after they’d passed to the next generation. With those thoughts in mind, I threw myself through the darkness towards the nearest cluster and the town that housed them.

Blinking away the abundance of light as it filled my vision, I surfaced, remaining a shadow under what was a decidedly clean-looking dumpster in a shaded alley. In the back of my mind it briefly occurred to me that traipsing around the world at the speeds I’d so readily accustomed myself to should have left me more disorientated, but the thought was quickly shattered and replaced by the pressing matter at hand: my survival.

Sliding up to the nearby wall, the sun provided me an unobstructed sight of a saccharinely-bright replica of a gingerbread house. It was Sugarcube Corner alright, and as I pulled further up along the “icing”-laden roof I was just able to make out the gleaming city upon the hill, and immediately fell back to the deep-dark, found the light-cluster, and rose back to the surface once they were within reach.

Sliding out from a bed which housed equal parts sweaty gym-gear and old pizza slices with, now, extra mushrooms, I moved for the window and, ignoring the looks of wonder and fear at the sight of a shadow with no body, flew across the technicolor-sea of ponies along the main boulevard and through the Canterlot Castle gate.

Pausing just long enough to spy which tower held a diminutive telescope, I scaled the sheer walls without thought and slid under the balcony door to the curtained room within where Princess Luna laid sprawled, her celestial mane as much a tousled mess as her twisted bed-sheets.

Pulling up from the shadows, I stepped over the hastily thrown regalia to the bed and called, “Princess Luna.” When no reply came I did the next logical thing and leaned forward, ready to grab and shake her until she was awake, only to watch in dumb-shock as my hands ghosted through her.

The sand began to rustle in the darkness around me.

‘Impossible,’ I mentally fumed as a jet of air whistled out my nose, ‘who could-’

Looking back down to Princess Luna, all the while feeling as though the whole of the universe had come to bear against me, I took a breath that utterly failed to help collect myself and, with mounting frustration, took the plunge.

Placing my hand above the Princess’s brow, I slowly slid it forward and into her dreams. At first it pushed back, through, all things considered, some form of resistance was to be expected as a crackle of indigo power tried kept me at bay, but I only pressed harder in response. A bubble of energy began to grow out of Luna’s horn, but it collapsed into a hail of arctic-blue sparkles. And, as I broke through, I got a distinct impression of a giant waterslide before the flow of fear, my fear, began to wash over her dream. Flashes of flames and shadows quickly filled the ephemeral landscape from end to end, but none so much as the echoing laughter. Tears began to trickle down Luna’s shuttered eyes, a whimper dying in her throat as a dark scowl claimed her. Eyes crashing open, light pouring from them, Luna’s search-light gaze zeroed in on me, and if anything, her scowl deepened. Horn ablaze, a circle of energy bloomed and cinched around my neck, roughly pulling me into the open air.

“YOU DARE TRY TO ENSLAVE US AGAIN?!?” Princess Luna boomed in her Royal Canterlot Voice. “WE SHALL NOT FALL TO YOU OR YOUR VILE WORDS AGAIN NIGHTMARE!!”

Now, scrabbling at my throat, I managed a strangled choking sound as I felt my face begin to over-heat.

Princess Luna, her gaze unwavering, flicked a strand of magic behind her, bringing forth a brilliant silver-blade to bear. Glowing with a sapphire light all its own, Luna’s indigo-aura suffused only the grip as it slowly, but surely, moved point to block the sight of my left eye.

An easy grin spread upon her face in stark contrast to a mane bursting with novas, “Your petty lies will not work upon Us,” she menaced, “now speak, for what reason do you dare come to Canterlot, and in so alien a guise Nightmare?”

Trying to gasp out a reply, and forever etching into the bedrock of my mind to never again wake up Princess Luna as she loosened the ring of energy around my neck just enough for me to take a whistling-breath of air and wheeze, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you so bad. I just needed some help.”

“Why in Equestria would I ever help you vile shade?” she growled, lightning crackling in her eyes.

“Princess, it’s me, Wayde. Don’t you remember?” I coughed, eyes bulging.

“What trickery is this?” came the skeptic reply.

“Wayde,” I coughed again, “Saddle Arabia, Discord captured me, you, urk, went into my dreams on the train ride back?” Despite the spots of purple beginning to cloud my vision, it was clear Princess Luna wasn’t convinced. Discord couldn't have had something to do with it, right? With what little oxygen remained in my brain I added, “You, you gave your word that you would,” I coughed, the ring of energy beginning to clench, “help me.”

“Thou speaketh lies. We would never rely upon that vile trickster!” She accused, inching the blade closer.

Affronted, even in these dire straits, I managed to suck in enough air to grunt, “I would never,” only pausing to get enough air in to finish, “and especially not to you.”

“Thou just did,” Luna growled. “Thou art just like that tiny, hornless metal-minotaur that chimed for peace while dooming an empire!”

“This is bad,” I said, feeling like an idiot before I could even finish spitting out the banal phrase.

“As the foals say, ya think? But,” she paused, turning to the hall-door as a flicker of magic pulled the door open, “because we are so kind, we will not only let thee explain to me exactly what thou art talking about,” Luna said, suddenly smirking as she unclenched the magic around my neck just a touch more as my feet and hands slammed into their own floating shackles, “but to our sister as well.”

With the new windfall of oxygen, I spent the next few moments silent for no other reason than for want of more, but as my unwilling journey continued I couldn’t help but notice a few things that just felt... off, like a passing a maid that looked so very much like the frightened young lady who had come to my room just yesterday, but was wearing a charm necklace with different kinds of miniature golden-gnomes adorning it, her chief fear being timberwolves. Still, she could have had a sister, or a lookalike, but as things began to grow louder, approaching the more used sections of the castle, I couldn’t help but notice the change in décor, not that I was particularly observant about such details, but when someone puts in stain-glass windows, they don’t typically change position, nor do the figures within the scenes either, like a great white unicorn from some odd battle in the past charging on the left-hand side of the winning charge rather than he and his companions charging from the right.

Certainly I was missing the ground right about now since I had enough time to worry over it now, Princess Luna having forgone the weapon while in the open halls for a number of blinking-enchantments whose runes were busy swirling about my wrist, ankles, and neck in a very worrisome manner. I might have even contemplated turning to shadow, though I had sagely confined that to the rubbish-ideas-bin when I found out I couldn’t since I was too busy floating in the air with a Darth Vader grip, away from any solid walling or floor. Still, I could always try to call my nightmares for some help to either push me down or distract the princess, but I wasn’t quite desperate enough to chance the runes being explosive or ruining the only real chance I knew of to talk with ponies with experience living in a fantastical world I’d only ever seen through a narrative-driven window. I could still wait, for now.

With that last thought in mind, I watched as the cranky Princess of the Night regally stomped her way past the line of petty nobles and other citizenry with actual problems, and pushed her way past the massive doorway, flinging the surprised door-guards a few feet in either direction, as the rest of the room’s staff saw prudent to find anything else to do away from the wild-maned alicorn who was busy glaring across the great chamber.

My breath caught in my throat as I was pulled in, whatever had happened, whatever that golden circle had been, it was big. With every inch I was brought forward it was made abundantly clear just how different things had become if Princess Celestia was sporting a new center of fear. Gone were her tentative misgivings at what every one of her actions might signify to her ponies and the world around her, instead, was the deep and abiding fear of how lost her ponies would be without her. Her insides were screaming as though war might rain down upon her at any moment, but outside, she was as calm and collected as ever. Even her fear was safely tucked away in her, seemingly unaware of her own change.

Out of the corner of my eye, I just caught the previous petitioner, a rather grubby looking griffin, winging out of the room, the massive doors slamming behind him, as Luna finally said, “Sister, We wish to speak with you,” trotting up to the thrones’ steps.

Smiling, clearly all too grateful to have an excuse to pause from her current activities, Princess Celestia gave a small giggle, and said, “Luna, didn’t my student teach you something about your old speech-patterns?”

Even from behind it was easy to tell just how hard Luna rolled her eyes, “Yes sister, we have obtained lessons from your student, as you can tell from our lowered volume. But back to the matter at hoof,” she said, jerking her head towards me, “We would have words about your recent pranks.”

“Oh, and why might that be,” she smirked, casually eyeing the far off corners of the room around her.

“Perhaps it would be a dream-corrupting being that just gives me a headache,” Luna replied gruffly.

“What’s this about dream-imps?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m in no mood for this Tia,” Luna snorted, blowing an errant strand of mane from her disheveled face, “who else but you could have sent this creature behind me.”

As the blue-ring pressed more firmly into my jaw-line, Celestia only gave another chuckle before saying, “Lulu, I think we’ve both progressed past the ‘I captured an invisible monster’ gambit.”

In a choking breath I said, “I don’t think she can see m-”

But, before I could finish, Luna jerked her head back and hissed, “Shut thy mouth creature,” and was rewarded by my prompt effort to pull my dangling legs to my chest, much to her pleased and toothsome grin.

“Perhaps you should return to bed,” Celestia intoned, “I think your wits are still as sleepy as the rest of you.”

“Indeed, though both would be getting their well deserved rest had you not sent this,” Luna said, bringing me forward, “to awaken me, and so early in the day.”

“Um,” I stammered, not quite believing what I was about to do to try and prove my dangling existence despite the incremental clenching around his neck, “tell her ‘he told me that you used the mirror to see Sombra again even after Starswirl’s warnings’.”

“She what,” Luna gasped before looking up to her sister, “Celestia, is this true?”

“Is what true?” Celestia smirked.

“That you snuck behind Starswirl back and continued to use the mirror in spite of his warnings?”

Celestia’s hair fell limp, her pristine white coat turning a few shades paler. “How, you... what did you say?” came the harsh whisper, her eyes turning to pinpricks.

“You heard me well and good, sister. The dream-creature seems all too aware that you continued to visit other worlds even though Starswirl bade you not.”

Princess Celestia, chest now heaving shallowly, turned her head from her sister to the small circles of indigo energy around me before she gave an almost inaudible gasp. Rubbing at her eyes, I felt as she began to get a feel for my existence.

“What. Is. That?” Celestia demanded, her eyes turning to slits.

Coughing past the lump of air I’d tried to swallow down, I gave a feeble wave and said, “Wayde Molan, your,” I coughed, “your majesty. Glad to see you again.”

“Have we met before?” Celestia questioned, raising an eyebrow, “I think that I would remember somepony as distinctive as yourself.”

“I would have thought so too ma’am. But I think someone is trying to prevent you or your,” I coughed, “sister, from remembering.”

“Funny, the only one that might do that was Discord and he is in stone. You are even welcome to go check.” Celestia said.

“Um,” came my intelligent remark as I looked down in the direction of my magical shackles.

“In fact, I am quite busy, so perhaps you should go to keep yourself busy.” Replied Celestia with a smile.

‘The hell is she talking about?’ I thought, rapidly looking from princess to princess to see if I had simply missed something in the conversation. Had I blacked out for a second?

“No hoofing this off to me Celestia,” Luna cut in, raising her prisoner higher to her sister’s throne, “our need for a conversation on you little adventures without me aside, what exactly is going on here?”

Celestia then put a hoof to her chin. “I might have an idea. About an hour ago, I was going to use the portal to go to that cake dimension, when the portal started to ripple and close. Before it did however, I could almost see a small stream of gold in the shape of a lasso, pulling a black sphere through the dimensional-barrier. I think that our shadowy guest here is this black sphere.”

“What?” I so dumbly managed whisper.

Tapping her chin, Luna added, “That would make a lot of sense. For one, it would certainly explain why he thought we met before.”

“So,” I gulped, squirming against the energy-circlet more out of my mounting frustration rather than any particular chaffing. After all, I mean sure, why not, at least this time I was being told it was probably due to some mad wizard or something. “Can you ladies send me back home then?” I asked, portals seemingly more in vogue here if Princess Celestia was just going to pop over into one for a bite of sweets.

With a flash of her horn, the enchantment around me fell to sparkling-mist as I promptly fell to the floor, just catching myself at the last moment when Princess Luna said, “A lovely idea, except, I should think you might like bring your kidnapper to justice.”

“What was that,” I asked, taking a few exaggerated breaths, rubbing his neck.

She cleared her throat and said, “WE WANT THOU TO FIND THY KIDNAPPER AND BRING HIM TO JUSTICE. WE WOULD ALSO WANT THOU TO HAVE A GUARD ESCORT THOU!” Luna, then, turning off The Royal Canterlot Voice cheekily said, “Did you hear that?”

“Yes ma’am,” I winced, a little shaken at her rather un-princess-ly behavior, “but,” I sighed, feeling the heat of excess blood finally leaving my head, “how exactly do you know who stole me, and how am I supposed to deal with someone with the power to play with dimensions?”

“You were connected to the golden-light while it was pulling you, and by extension it was connected to you. Such energy is easy enough to track due to the distinct thaumic-residue it leaves from the mingling of magics from differing worlds. Allow me to show you,” Celestia said, her horn glowing a pale-yellow which slowly left her horn to spread around me in a twisting mist, and then behind me in a thin, but distinct, line from where I’d been carried. “As for why I presume that you might be able to do anything, it is already some great coincidence that there are now two similarly shaped bipeds in our land, and it would seem to follow that you would have a trick or two more you’ve yet to reveal beyond sneaking into my sister’s room without tripping off any of the guards, mages, or wards that surround it. That is why I know you have the power to deal with such foes, be they crossers of dimensions or otherwise,” she finished, leaning in to better show the smug-grin firmly set upon her face.

A little stunned at her perceptiveness, but, if she, the Princess of Equestria, thought I was really ready for this sort of task, even after so little time, who was I to argue?

Standing tall, finding I only just came up to the base of Luna’s throat, and despite the little knight in me practically squee-ing over the chance to be sent on a proper quest, keeping a level tone, I said, “What do I need to do?”

“To be frank, you need to stop him. We have limited knowledge of this person even after all this time, but we do know that he previously befriended and worked as both playwright and personal accountant for the pegasus Surprise of the former pegasus-kingdom of Pegasopolis. Simply put, he is a master of all things mechanical. Besides his learned classification of ‘party pony’, which includes such abilities as warping short distances, firework generation, and a protective form,” she paused, seeing whatever my face looked like as I imagined Pinkie Pie growing a turtle-shell, “while we haven’t quite pinned it down, nearly all party-ponies have a, transforming ability which allows them to use their cheer-bringing powers in a wholly destructive manner. During this time they have enhanced speed, durability, reaction time, and a distinctive mane-style as well.

“But, as I mentioned, his penchant for machinery shone through when he entertained colts and fillies, but such were his inventions that many a mares and stallions would marvel at the wit of his creations as though they were part of an elaborate magic show. Such wonders as a pink and white suit of armor that dispensed ice-cream from its gauntlets were common, but when danger would strike, as it often did during the days of the three tribes, suits were seen to have popped out from his luggage to do battle with such creature deadly creatures as tatzelwurms, sea-monsters of every description, and even hydras by firing destructive beams and miniature ballistics which gave the most terrific explosions upon impact. Once, he was seen using a hulking armor thrice his own size to make physical-combat with an Ursa Minor and return with nary a scratch.

“I allowed him free range under our fledgling kingdom, seeing as he only ever seemed to bring some modicum of safety to my little ponies, even if his ability to avoid collateral damage was almost nonexistent, until one day, when he got in his head to breach enemy lines in a time of war against King Sombra and his Crystal Empire with his friend. From my scouts, I have since learned that a great sound of tearing-metal could be heard screeching across the ice-swept tundra, and then a bright light, which my soldiers informed me, flung them out from where once an entire town had stood. No magic was ever detected in our later investigations, leaving him as the only culprit. He was later caught and put on trial for destroying an empire and was sentenced to petrifaction by Harmony. But, unlike like Discord, his spot in the Canterlot Garden has changed without either my own or my sister’s permission. But even now, I would never have thought him so far gone that he would tear someone from their own dimension for mere amusement. He must be stopped.”

This guy sounded insane, just imagining what levels of technology and magic must have been put into works of machinery that got even the attention of the Princesses was troubling enough, but what was more so was my penchant for over-analysis shone through as I blurted out, “But what about Sombra, what makes him so blameless?”

“He was taken out as well, why would he make himself vanish?” Asked Celestia, the room beginning to jump a few degrees, “Unless you think that he and his empire are not destroyed, which would be ridiculous.”

I was at a loss. Here was one of the oldest creatures in Equestria, who had held personal dealings with a radical tyrant and countless monsters besides, being a previous Element Bearer, and I was questioning her because of things I’d seen in a cartoon? And what’s more, a cartoon in which had never had some great armorer who cared so little about the lives of everyone during a fight. Cheeks darkening I gave a quick, “Sorry, I guess things are different here.”

“It’s fine,” Celestia replied, the air cooling, “but please, time is of the essence, and the longer we wait, the more the dimensional-tether will weaken. So I ask you, will you help protect our little ponies?”

“Of course,” I replied. What other choice did I have?

“Excellent,” Celestia smiled, “Luna, please summon the mages.”

“At once,” she called, vanishing in an indigo orb.

Alone in the room, Celestia rose from her throne, and, walking serenely towards me said, “while I am glad of your fortitude, it would be prudent if you would tell me what exactly you are capable of so that we might have at least some sort of plan of action to back up with.”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied, working to keep my chest from puffing out too much. Best to not get too heady.

(10) Mk. C: Iron Fortress

Author's Notes:

This concludes the crossover with Buck you, I'm Iron Man.

Here are a few visual references, should you care for that sort of thing:
Guard Bot (ground)
Guard Bot (aerial)
Robotic Overcoat (crimson armor)
Titan

Bottom of Ponyville Peak:

“That that bipedal freak has the gall to hide so close to us makes me sick, no offense,” the stealth-armored thestral mumbled, looking behind to me.

“None taken, and are you sure he’s in there” I whispered back, readjusting my crouch in the bushes at the foot of the mountain. I mean, not that I was an expert or anything, but it seemed like a pretty bad idea to set up shop anywhere so open to someone’s line of sight, especially with flying ponies to worry about.

“No, and as a matter of fact the two of us want an explosive-happy psycho to roam free in our country,” came Wisp’s tired reply as he elbowed his fellow mage. Through, considering he had only been able to follow the energy trail horn-first, eyes to the ground, the fact he was still talking in a controlled voice spoke volumes for his bearing considering the muck, scrapes, and tree-sap that now caked both him and his armor.

Everyone had been outfitted with dulled and darkened armor for this evening mission, save me, my own dark clothing providing enough camouflage in the growing gloom.

Patchwork, the ranking officer and earth pony, spat on the ground, “and to think he had the stones to return to his old base, even after we raided the place. Kudos for him, yeah? Anyway,” he said, motioning for everyone to circle up, “are you sure you’re up to this kid? Last time we came here we had an entire legion of unicorn guardsponies to keep this psycho’s traps from activating, you really think you can get past all that?” he hoofed in the general direction.

“Yes sir,” I replied, it’s not like you can touch a shadow after all. Looking down to my palm, my glittering-sand gave a reassuring swirl before turning to a skull and fading away.

“Alright,” Patchwork intoned, reaching out a hoof, which I, with minimal awkwardness, took in kind, “good luck in there,” and, without a further word, the six guardsponies fell back silently into the relative safety of Everfree Forest and the town of Ponyville.

Taking one last breath, I immersed myself into the second-dimension. Sliding forward on a thought, I went over the plan:

1. Grab intel: If Iron Man (I still can’t believe some nut would call himself that) was still in his old hide-out despite it’s obviously raided state then there must be a good reason for it, so I needed to stick to the shadows and use the crystal-eye, a sort of magical camera, for the Princesses to go over once I returned.

2. If possible, I was to capture the target and bring him back to Canterlot so the Elements could return him to stone, but, seeing as how I had bypassed Princess Luna’s enchantments with such ease, it was unlikely that the target would stay in place once I was noticed.

Simple really, and while I was busy, safe on the other side of the looking-glass, the guards would be returning to Ponyville where a platoon of guards was already shoring up the town’s defenses in case my little peep-show incurred… retaliations.

Slipping through the mouth of the cave of the mad-scientist, I wasn’t sure I had chosen the right tunnel, the natural rock looked completely uncut and was littered with the unwashed detritus of years to boot, but I wasn’t given a chance to wander further as my path was intercepted by a sheer wall of rock. Sliding on up, I hadn’t made but maybe five yards up the squared vertical-shaft when an explosion of rock sent a shower of dust over me and the hum of fluorescent lights blinked on from a worryingly undeterminable source. However, what was more worrying was watching the numerous oversized mechanical-beetles, nasty little red things about the size of a cat, that were swarming out the holes that had previously been blasted form the walls, like those that happened to be where my chest, arms, and groin were, and were swarming towards me, a whole shaft-worth of them. But, despite the echo of chills that sent my skin to crawl, the clicking-monstrosities were unable to touch, let alone harm me. So, giving my arms a calming, frenzied, scratching, I made my way up the shaft despite my impeded vision.

Swelling over the lip, I could only wonder if I had tripped off some sort of motion sensor, but with the growing gloom of the cave only kept from complete midnight-proportions of darkness from the odd smattering of crystals that were so abundant in Equestria reflecting off each other, I could only imagine at the power of such surveillance. And with that cheery thought in mind, I continued up, finding another two equally buggy shafts and made my way to the next empty, but now, metallic-hallway, the beetles never leaving their designated area to chase me further.

Continuing down the, now, horizontal passage, I jumped to the wall as the floor suddenly began flipping to reveal a field of tiles, their centers glowing red with a single random letter of the alphabet. The pattern of letters was utterly random, but at the end of the tunnel a large pair of speakers slid silently from the smoothed bedrock of the wall and said:

Through I may brighten anyone's day, yet I am not on fire,
I can easily spread to many, yet I am not a disease,
Through crafted with little effort, only the strongest may use me in the grip of terror.
What am I?

Ignoring the distinct feeling of déjà vu and adventure music sweeping across my mind, I continued across the wall giving the question the minimum amount of attention I could spare. I thought the answer might be ‘madness’, but then again I was never very good at riddles, and at any rate I wasn’t going to give an auditory account of my position. Taking a sharp turn, I found the hall plating had ended and opened to a great cavern, several football fields wide, devoid of nearly any formations or objects, save one. At the center of the cavern lay a large blue ovaloid, glowing both in its own light and the light of the heavens. In a way it almost resembled Luna’s mane, but rather than a meticulous swirl of stars and constellations there were whole galaxies burning, swirling, crashing and melding upon one another in a drowsy dance of the cosmos. It was a thing of utterly indescribable beauty, and then, it moved.

With a deliberate motion, a strange protrusion pulled away from the circular mass to shine twin molten-yellow eyes upon the wall I was currently pressed upon. Unwrapping itself further, the great ursine-esque beast revealed a great red button beneath itself, which it lazily pressed with its hind paw as it lumbered toward me. I wasn’t going to have any of that, and quickly scaled up to the ceiling, stomaching a sudden sense of vertigo.

Reaching up with deadly midnight-claws to the ceiling, the great Ursa Minor, I think they were called, gave a deep and, if my ears weren’t deceiving me, piteous cry, the lights in its eyes dimming as luminous-black spread from within.

In spite of myself, knowing that such creatures were better thought pacified rather than attacked if my memory of the show was correct, I paused, watching as the creature attempted to stand on its hind legs, pawing up to me as it did so, only to immediately lose its balance and land on its rump as sparkling tears began to roll down its great face while it continued to paw up at the ‘shadowy-specter’ above. I was almost tempted to go down and pet the poor thing, but then, as though a switch had been flipped, the Ursa Minor spun around and took to a sprint, barreling towards and unadorned section of the cavern’s wall only for it to suddenly open on a set of hidden hinges as the double doors swung open, allowing the creature uninterrupted passage.

Following behind I briefly attempted to merge with the creature’s shadow and try for one more attempt at stealth, despite all evidence to the contrary that a shadow in a cave was being tracked, but found the glow of the great beast prevented so much as a shaded foot-fall, and, instead, followed on the ceiling above, wondering what call the beast must have received, and in part myself, as by all accounts I seemed to be expected.

While only a few seconds, the beast traversed up the spiraling passage which opened into an elegant squared-off room that might have dwarfed the size to the previous cavern were it not for the gratuitous piles of dusty piles of machinery that dotted the floor like malformed termite mounds which took nearly half the space of the room ending in an invisible, no less distinct line of emptiness which the great bear dutifully stopped roughly thirty yards before to slide to a halt on the white-tiled floor.

From the roof I could see the glowing haze that marked the hive of the room’s activity. A flurry of holographic-screens and spherical robots ranging in size from my fist to twice over the size of my head circled the singular occupant of the room, a singular man wearing a smartly-cut business-suit. I might have mistaken him from human, his cartoonish appearance notwithstanding as my own made even me feel suspect as I passed the stranger in the mirror, were it not for how his hands blurred in a flurry of motion as he manipulated the screens of light that swarmed around him. It was really a feat that his arms hadn’t popped out of their sockets from how they jittered, but his controlled mutterings suggested that he was far used to working at such speeds.

The bear, however, was not having any of this ‘being-ignored’ business, and gave a low yip, which was immediately responded with quick, “Hold on sweetie, Daddy’s almost done.” The response was, of course, not enough, as the bear sat upon its haunches, and continued to whine.

With a groan, the man gave a great sweep of his arms, sending the holo-screens to vanish. Then, seemingly unbidden, the floor beneath him lit in a circle of sterile-light around him, humming gently, and raised itself from the floor to softly float toward the, now, happily panting bear who had turned on its, well, her side in preparation of a tummy-rub that was all too swiftly received as the floating platform reached the vast expanse of fur.

“Oh yes, you’re my sweet little girl, oh yes you are,” he crooned, as the giant bear’s leg began to dance about in the air. “Did my brilliant little Bubbles bring up the silly little dissy-placed.”

The great bear gave a low and thrumming groan of affirmation, motioning her head to whatever was behind her.

“Hey, yeah, you can come out now,” he said, head turning to the ceiling, his tone deepening for normal conversation, “my Ursa Minor doesn’t go about eating people like the others you typically find in these kinda mountainous lairs believe it or not.”

I flinched, unsure how to react, but erring on the side of keeping the man who had angered the Princesses from anger himself, I relented, sliding down from the roof to lie perpendicular to the target, and was immediately glad of my shadow form muting my stunned double-take, stopping just six feet from him.

“Yeah, hey, names Iron Man, or at least that’s my handle ever since I got here, and, well, I do technically,” he smirked, leaning down towards me “have a few suits that I’ve put together, so there really isn’t any actual difference. And the fact that I look remarkably like Robert Downey Jr. certainly doesn’t hurt matters,” he said, loosening his shimmering black-tie. “Still, glad to see you, sorry to call you over while I was nodding off. Hope you were able to have a good time, but hey,” and snapped his fingers, a wooden paneled box humming up from behind one of the many piles of half and pre-formed piles of metal and wires, “care for a drink?”

I remained silent, eyeing the room from my flattened perspective as the wooden box came to a rest by the Tony Stark look-a-like and began to whir as sleek robotic arms began mixing the man’s drink.

“You’re a quiet one huh,” Iron Man said, sweeping up his glass before the robotic arms could hand it to him, “excuse me,” he said, slamming back his drink in one go, “tend to lose track of time when I get- another one,” he said to the bar, “so, when I get going, opening up new economic venues for the griffins and the like, one ca- oh thanks,” he said as the bar presented his drink, “yeah, you can power through a couple missed-meals, but it’s when you get thirsty things get a little eeehhh, annoying. But enough about me,” he said, tugging off his tie entirely as he flashed another pearly-white smile, “you having a good time in this neck of the Equestria-verse?”

As disquieting as it was to see someone who so casually stated they now looked and sounded like Robert Downey Jr, if a bit more rounded in the cheeks, I managed to stopped fiddling with my pockets. Ignoring his derailing train of thought and hoping, though not really expecting to get the desired response, a I quietly stated, “Please come quietly.”

In response, Iron Man raised a sharp eyebrow and said, “Well I’m sorry, but I was planning on going on a little business trip with Bubbles an- waaaiiit…” he said, stepping closer, his hand going to his chin. “You’re from Canterlot aren't you, well, unless that shimmering strand of mane you’ve got on your shoulder there is from my innocent little Bubbles? Isn’t one thousand years long enough for a crime that I didn't commit?

I glared, though I could only imagine how poorly it was conveyed by my blackened profile as I batted away the offending light-source.

Pointing to me as he turned on his heel for the bar he tossed back, “Seriously man, it is. Right? Anyway,” he said, rolling his eyes as he rounded the counter, “how long were you in this Equestria? Be honest.”

“I was told you would already know that,” I said, just keeping the growl from my accusation.

“I honestly have no idea, I was asleep for the last few hours after finding a raided vault,” Iron Man explained, seeming disappointed, but in a bored tone added, “and what exactly did the princesses tell you about me anyway?”

“That you were charged with the destruction of the Crystal Empire, the murder of its citizenry, and have been mistakenly discharged from your sentence” I quickly replied, my tone still even.

“Oh please,” Iron Man waved a dismissive hand, “I didn’t even destroy the empire or murder anyone.”

“Your duly held trial says otherwise, now please,” I said, an edge finally breaking in at the devolving conversation, “come quietly.”

“That trial was rigged,” Iron Man thundered suddenly, shattering his half-finished drink upon the bar, “I was wholly unable to speak and I had a baby as a defense attorney.”

Gaping, I silently looked to his ears just to double check his brains hadn’t begun to leak out of them. He couldn’t possibly think I was that stupid, could he? Holding down the urge to roll my eyes and remain focused on the target I, again, stated, “Please, come quietly.”

“Okay, look, I can prove what I am saying is true” Iron Man said, his free hand drumming on the tabletop as the other rummaged under the bar, pulling out a sleek quick-silver helmet with a camera-lens mounted on the forehead. “This,” he said, raising the helmet out to his side, “is called The Recollection Projector Mark Five. It can project a selected memory no matter how far back or poorly remembered it is,” he said, slowly setting it in place upon his head, “here, let me show you.”

Shaking from my stupor I flung out my hand, black-sand streaming from my palm and out into the world with every intent to ensnare the knock-off before he put on the helmet and I found out what it really did.

With smooth and practiced ease, Iron Man tapped the center of his chest as an opaque sphere of white energy bloomed around him, blocking the sand entirely. “Cheap shot,” he frowned in my direction, but I was already on the move for a more defensible position and had moved to one of the shadows beneath a nearby pile of machinery.

Pressing in more of my sand I found the shield impenetrable, but so long as he was contained and unable to harm me, the helmet having been dropped upon the bar as the shield activated, I was fine with that and began covering the shield entirely, intending to lift both it and its creator off the floor.

A loud whirring-beep sounded from within the black-sphere and immediately the workroom was set ablaze with light as the spherical-drones returned, side hatches hissing open to reveal twin horizontal-mounted guns, and from the way they were beginning to glow red I was glad I had moved from the pile they were still aiming at. Bubbles on the other hand, snarling at the mistreatment of her daddy, rushed towards my containment field. With every thunderous step, she began glow with ire, the stars of her fur bursting into white-hot novas, and, with her final stepped she opened her great maw and unleashed a cascade of celestial power, sending my sand to scream as it scattered in smoking shards to the corners of the great room.

“You know,” said Iron Man, a drink once more in hand, his shield having expanded to hold the, now, small floating bar, “It’s kind of rude to interrupt, and in the words of another tragic hero,” pressing the knot of his tie, he said, voice morphing down a few octaves, “you done goofed.”

‘The hell?’ I thought, trying to understand what sort of psycho talks in… internet references in combat. ‘Where was he from?!?’ I wondered, thunderstruck, trying to ignore the little voice in my head that suggested I was just too small a threat for him to take me seriously. I. Was. Not. Weak.

If the comic-book world thought it could take me on I was more than willing to take it to the shredder. Focusing my thoughts, I sent my sand up through one of the random trash piles to draw his attention, taking the shape of a more classical chassis of “Iron Man” the original dessert-escape model, but with substantially more bulk and shoulder mounted rocket-pods, and, of course, a black rather than steel-grey finish.

“Oh my,” Iron Man purred, perching his lips. “But in all seriousness,” he said, shrugging back into a relaxed stance and spreading his hands, “why? I was just about to show my innocence when I was attacked by a cloud of blackened dust.” Looking down to a glowing-red cufflink, he gave it a quick squeeze. In response, a squad of white robots, grey servos and hydraulics brazenly on display and toting massive glowing barrels on both arms, stomped in as a similarly number of flying blue-warriors swept in from behind to hold position above their grounded counter-parts, training square-looking assault rifles on target as they began to fan out around my creation. Certainly more armored than the former, there seemingly clunky design suggested they were built for short-range aerial attacks, but from the way they swung through the air, I couldn’t imagine they were truly designed for indoor capabilities, even in as big a, well, cave, as this.

“Gentlemen,” he said once my puppet was surrounded, “it appears that our guest wishes to leave, please escort him outside with all due prejudice. And oh,” he added, taking another sip, “don’t worry, those nasty looking guns are set for stun, for now. Unless,” a wolfish grin slowly spreading across his face, “you’ve just really got a royal-boner for the princesses and want to impress them with a fine catch like myself?”

His penchant for babbling aside, his robots did have me worried, though I was glad of the one that was currently ushering his fell beast back to its room, that was one problem down. As for the others, sending up sand through the false rocket-pods was certainly an option, but it would give them ample time to react to those not hit. I needed to do something fast, incapacitate them… jam up… there…

Sending a burst of nightmare-sand to explode off my “armor”, taking a good portion of what I had been able to scrap together from a hand-full of belief and shrinking it a good deal, I watched as my sand swept past the robots entirely rather than stop to gum up their gears. I mentally cursed at my sudden turn of bad luck, but watched in sudden awe as a ring of lacerated arms and legs fell to the floor as sparking chest-pieces followed in their wake.

“Ok, points for style,” Iron Man inclined. “Buuut,” he said, sliding off his jacket as the previously-hidden metal-plating beneath began to click into place and cover his face “you still seem to be working under the delusion that I’ll... come quietly, was it?”

Taking a step forward, the Nightmare-Machine was sent flying back as Iron Man gave a second tap of his chest-piece, sending his shield to burst as hulking suit of crimson and gold plated armor, nearly six times as big as himself fell from the ceiling above, engulfing Iron Man in yet another layer of technological defense.

Swinging the construct smoothly back up on its heels like a vampire from its coffin, and, without a sound, gave a sudden rush, gliding silently across the surface of the floor. I wasn’t going to let up, and I certainly wasn’t going to let this jack pop up any more surprises from his boxes. Speeding it up, I watched as Iron Man twisted his armored-hands to show two glowing palms which let loose a blast of light that made the air itself shimmer as it shattered the nightmare-machine’s chest in a thousand pieces leaving the arms and legs to dangle comically for a few seconds before they peeled off from what was left and land on the floor.

“Piece of cake,” Iron Man gloated boredly, before I recalled the sand to the dark to send the whole of it in a single torrent from the nearest pile of junk behind him, slicing through the circuitry with disturbing ease.

As the last few remnants of his busted armor fell to the ground, without injury to him, somehow, but I wasn’t going to look a gift-horse in the mouth, my dark-sand began to balling up around him, I said, “I wouldn’t make any sudden movements if I were you,” sliding, still in shadow, out from the pile of rusting garbage I had moved to during the fight, and, deciding to try and scare him into keeping still I added “the smell of fear makes finer motor control like keeping the flesh on your body a bit tricky.”

“Yeah, fuck that,” groused Iron Man, shaking the last few remnants of his busted armor still clinging to his exposed head to fall to the ground, before disappearing in a sudden puff of multicolored confetti, leaving my sand to grasp at nothing.

“What? Nooo” I cried, my growl cut short by the sudden wail of a klaxon siren and the niggling little memory of being told on the list of ridiculous things he could do, one was teleport. ‘And now the lights are blinking red, that’s a good sign,’ I thought sarcastically.

“Activate, the Titan!” came Iron Man’s command from an unseen speaker as yet another set of doors, they must have been one hundred feet high, hidden into the side of the farthest wall began to slowly open, only to explode outward with a good section of the wall as whatever wanted out lost its patience.

As the dust and rubble settled, I saw a massive fist pull smoothly back to the chest of its chest before falling to its side of the eighty-foot robot it was attached to. From head to toe it was decked in weaponry of every description. Already, the chainsaw attached to its left-arm was beginning to screech to life as the bladed-teeth began to glow a hateful-orange and the cannons upon its shoulders had begun to spread to keep the heat of the barrels from warping its neighbor upon firing. “By the way,” returned the taunting voice of Iron Man, “I wouldn’t recommend the sand thing. Well, unless you don’t mind a bit of super-heated plasma-shielding.” And with that the monstrous-machine was suffused in an aura of sky-blue.

“Fine,” I sneered, slipping under one of the torn pieces of wall as the first of the rockets fired from the great robot. No one was there, I could feel it, and I was just slipping into the deep dark, ready to tell Princess Luna and Celestia of the many dangerous machines when, much to my surprise, I saw a light. Moving towards it, I slid from under a towering stack of sterile white boxes. “Impossible,” I muttered, unbelieving someone with the ability to teleport would remain so close to the field of battle but for the lone figure before me madly pushing and pressing at the colorful knobs, levers, and button arrayed on the wide, curving panel before him, surrounded by a bevy of those floating spheres, though, this time not a single one was smaller than twice my own head.

“Wait. What?” Iron Man exclaimed, turning his head as his machines let forth a volley of energy blasts, leaving the air to shimmer at the heat of their wake. “There’s no way he should have gotten past all my shielding,” he muttered aloud, fingers blurring upon his console as what looked like schematics of the mountain began to glow in the holographic screen lighting before him.

Still moving forward, the fluorescent lighting keeping all but my own shadow at bay, I tried for Iron Man’s feet, only for my hands to pass through the tiny splotches of darkness beneath his soles. I didn’t fully expect something like that to work with how little I still knew about my body, but with the living Swiss-army knife, I wasn’t going to let him try anything new and hurt anyone on my watch. So, with a snap of my fingers to get his attention, my sand already moving through the darkness at my silent order, I slid over the console, curving my body to crescent along its entirety as he jerked his hands back, and stated, “I wouldn’t do anything hasty if I were you, not unless you’d like to see the color of your precious little Bubbles’ insides.”

Iron Man’s eyes widened, a row of emotions flashing across his lips before pressing into a fine line, and said, “Fine, I will go with you, just don’t hurt my little girl.” He then turned to the drones. “I will be gone for a little while, activate the force-field, and keep on those construction bots for repairs, and oh, keep ten percent on hold for any damaged bots they come across.” Turning to his console, with a swift motion the screen changed to show his Ursa Minor just as a spiked-ring of black-sand fell around its neck, cinching into place, he said, “Bubbles, if I don’t make it back in a week you’ll be in charge, so I need you to be strong for me. Okay?” Bubbles, responding in kind, gave a small nod. Flicking off the screen, a general hum of background-energy also beginning to dissipate, Iron Man turned to me and said, “I’ll go,” tightening his fists, “I just need to make a call and grab something. Is that okay?”

“No,” I stated coldly.

Iron Man stepped back, “Aren’t you arresting me? Don’t I have a right to get a lawyer and try to defend myself?”

“You’re an escaped convict,” I said evenly, “Now, if you would be so kind as to turn off the lights," ready to call up one massive cloud at once before he could do anything funny, "we will go.”

“No,” Iron Man snarked, clearly missing the point, “their my generators, and I’ll do what I want with them,” then added, “and what makes you say that I am guilty, you know,” he said, waving his hand in the air vaguely, “aside from the princesses’ mere word that I destroyed an empire that I had no connections to and escaped false imprisonment. Tell me that I am wrong.” Rolling my eyes in the silence he continued. “I believe that you said, I was, and I quote, ‘charged with the destruction of the Crystal Empire, the murder of its citizenry, and have been mistakenly discharged from your sentence.’ How about we break that apart, so you can find reason in what I did. First off, the destruction of the Crystal Empire. I bring you back to the invention that I was going to show you, the Recollection Stereopticon mark five, a device that can show your exact and true memories without fail. I can test it on you first if you doubt that I am being honest.”

After a moment I let out a sigh. He was getting more agitated, and might just pop off again after he decides his little pet isn’t worth a life sentence, so, swallowing my growing frustration I said, “If I answer you, will you turn off the lights?”

“Depends, do you promise not to take me in the second I do? Pinkie Promise?” Iron Man asked, leaning in.

“You have my word,” I said, inclining his head, ‘Specifically, just the letter of it,’ I thought.

“Do you know the words?” asked Iron Man.

Sighing, but still keeping the questionable sanity of the… person in front of my in mind, I brought a blackened finger to my chest and said, “cross my heart, and should I lie, I’ll stick a needle in my eye.”

“Close enough,” Iron Man sighed, “now, about that answer?”

Taking a breath, I said, “You’re a wanted criminal, everything you say is suspect, it’s that simple. But,” I added, “if you really think I would let you purposefully use any amount of technology or magic after having witnessed what you did with your shield and security bots, you must really think I’m stupid if I’d willingly let you use any piece of equipment near me.”

“Alright,” Iron Man said as a chilling silence began to fill the room, “I think I know what’s going on here. You’re probably still new to this, but it’s often a knowing tell that a liar will give a spike of adrenaline when lying, in other words, a spike of fear. So,” he said, reaching behind his rear-end to reveal his earlier helmet while pressing his chest-piece in a single fluid motion, his opaque shield once more falling into place before I had time to realize my mistake, “I’m going to share this with you, and then,” he let the sentence fall, a holo-screen projecting out of the protective bubble.

*[o]*

As the picture came into focus, it revealed a pegasus in flight, her white fur sparkling like the tiny snow-caps in the far off distance, though at the speed the clouds were zipping by her they certainly weren’t going to stay that size for long. Running a hoof to keep the vibrating mass of golden curls that was her mane away from her brilliant periwinkle eyes, the other gave a reassuring pat to the winter sports-bag nestles behind her. With a warming smile, she looks over to Iron Man and chimes, “Can’t wait to ski and snowboard in the Crystal Empire. What about you Jacob?

Jacob, despite the air-resistance and the wobble it brings to his armored-flight, brings up a gauntleted hand to his plated-face, then says, “You know, I think I’d like to do some sledding. Haven't done that in a while.”

The flight continues, uninterrupted, as they focus on getting to the fun as fast as they can manage, but, after crossing the last line of snow-capped mountains, are soon given to the sight of the Crystal Empire at War.

Crystalline constructs, the basic shape of a pony, but with clawed distended-limbs and a great toothy maw where the head would have been were currently in mortal combat with the gold and silver-plated armies of Celestia and Luna’s army. Even from their distance, both could see these skeletal-like monstrosities, simply dripping with dark-magic from every joint, were winning the fight.

With a simultaneous look to one another, Jacob and Surprise said, “We’ve got to help them.”

What followed next was what might be called a comedic spy-infiltration routine as both, simultaneously, donned matching shinobi shozoku were it not directly followed by the stealthy infiltration they made across an active battlefield, through the ring of corrupted crystal-buildings and patrolling crystal golems, into the moving dimensions that encompassed the twisting corridors of the Crystal Castle brimming with Sombra’s dark power, and finally up the infinite staircase that led to the dark king’s throne-room. Topping the hateful stairs, they were met with the back of King Sombra as he used his vile magic to guide the corrupted Crystal Heart to impart power and direction to a scaled-down illusion of the battlefield they had previously crossed, and, without turning, Sombra deeply intoned, “And to what do I owe the pleasure of an impure pegasus and her metal golem in my court this day?”

Clenching his fists, Jacob gave a metallic growl and said, “Say you're sorry to her.”

Sombra only laughed, his attention still clearly upon the movement of the battlefield. “Quite the extravagance, not many of your kind would spend the bits to achieve any form of speech where a battle-enchantment or weapon might be placed instead. And here I thought you pegasi were at least pragmatic enough to make a hoof-soldier’s war.” Jacob then tapped his shoulder, something which finally surprised the grey unicorn enough to look away from his orchestrations for a look of growing wonder spread upon on his face. “You do know there are easier ways to find death, yes?”

“I want two things,” Jacob said, removing his hand, “first, I want you to take back what you said about my friend, and second, I want you to make the fight down there even by not pumping them with dark magic.” Jacob said, never backing away from Sombra.

Bearing a grin far more pointed, and toothsome, than any pony was ever meant to show, Sombra quietly stated, “No.” Then, before Jacob could react, a lance of dark energy leapt from Sombra’s red curved-horn to Surprise, locking her in a semi-opaque mass of black crystal. “Now, be a good little construct and back away, and I might just think about keeping your low-born master ali-” he paused, temporarily robbed of speech by the glove that had detached from Jacob’s hand to rocket-punch into his, now, bleeding nose. The look of unadulterated anger that bloomed on his face upon learning of his wounded state was matched only by the sudden thrust of energy he took from the Crystal Heart, the map disappearing in the process, and hurled at Jacob

Jacob dodged, the floor beneath him melting as his boots rocketed him back into flight, only for the ground to explode up to him as the dark energy dispersed across it. More energy was flung in deadly bolts of wavering, chaotic magic, and each was met by an equally skilled dodge, missile, and energy blast, but just when it looked like Jacob might be gaining an upper hand, Sombra gave a purple-pulse of his horn, and became darkness, his body expanding into a formless, billowing cloud, his features marred but for his eyes, which, while larger, were no less distinct nor hate-filled.

“I-” Sombra echoed, but was cut short as the room began to shake. Turning his eyes to the floor, he recalled his spell of the battlefield where his crystal-skeletons were being summarily routed, as others in the princesses’ employ had begun to march into the city, and now, obviously, into his own castle. The look of abject hatred that exploded out in hateful wisps from his cloudy form were only matched by the inert Crystal Heart that had stopped pumping his constructs with added dark-power that he’d neglected by playing with his food whilst at war. “I will not lose,” he growled, the whole of his body glowing with black-light as the Crystal Heart began to spin above him, and, with a sudden burst of power, sent Jacob flying out through where a disappearing wall just managed to vanish before the collision would have occurred, and, instead, Jacob continued his trajectory past the shielded-borders of the Empire and out into the snow-swept mountains he’d intended to enjoy with his friend.

Armored as he was, the shock had overloaded his systems enough for sparks of electricity to begin arcing across his joints, and, looking out to the open air where once an entire city had stood, Jacob got up, his face-plate sliding up to reveal set of, now, violently straight hair with a fiery set of eyes beneath, glaring to his stolen friend as twin rivulets of tears began mixing with the snot running down his nose. Falling to his side, the snow cushioning him, he began to weep, only stopping when he heard the groan of wounded pony-soldiers. Picking himself up, face-plate sliding back into place, he slowly made his way through the snow before violently hitting himself in the head as he remembered to activate his boots, and began the process of helping the broken others around him, and back to the tents where they could be treated.

*[o]*

Taking off the helmet, the projection going with it, Jacob turned to me, tears in his eyes, and asked calmly, “Do you want me to continue, or did you get all of the data that you needed?”

“I, uh,” I replied, focusing back on Iron M- Jacob as the screen blinkered off. I knew his line about adrenaline in connection to lying was a load of horse-hockey, he still clearly thought I was an idiot, but what caught my attention was that the very center of his fear, for just a moment, had wavered, as he worried I wouldn’t believe the truth.

Iron Man then put a hand to his ear, “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”

“You’re not... lying?” I questioned, more to myself than to Jacob.

“If it means anything, I forgive you.” said Iron Man as he deactivated the shield with a poke, “I know better than most people how overwhelming it can be in Celestia’s presence.”

“Why?”

“She may be an immortal goddess of light, but,” he paused for emphasis, “she isn’t perfect, and she knows it. In fact, most of what her little ponies consider her image are merely instances of pure slander to uplift herself, and she will go to Tartarus and back to keep everypony thinking so, even if it meant imprisoning me so I could be seen as a terrorist to be put away instead of a trauma victim so she didn’t have to deal with the shit politics that led to her capitulating to a dictator until he got so powerful he decided to invade her kingdom. She’d also send out a person with enough power to stop me on a veritable witch hunt, which leaves me with one question,” he smirked, moving to squat next to Wayde, “You want to help me troll her?”

“No,” I hissed, clenching my fists at his puerile attitude. What was wrong with this world? I was grasping at straws, too much happening at once, too many emotions. In the dark I could hear my sand already shifting and in that growing noise I felt a cold tendril wrap around my mind to whisper: manipulative bastards the lot of them. “I think I’m going to have a little chat with her myself instead,” I glowered coldly.

“I actually have a plan that will take a while to do, but has a huge payoff.” Jacob said, smiling as though I hadn’t tried to capture him under false pretenses five minute ago. “It involves that trip that I mentioned. You see, it is quite simple, I go and amass a wealth of positive PR while also bolstering the economy of other countries and I return with the political power to make her publically apologize in front of her king-”

“Yeah that’s cute and all,” I interrupted, not caring in the slightest what this child in a man’s body was busy babbling about, drowning him out with the growing wall of white noise building in my ears. “I’m going to wear her skin like feety-pajamas by nightfall,” I hissed, my vision beginning to swim as more of my emotional footing began to crumble.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I dislike Sun Ass as much as the next guy, but let’s not get crazy. She still needs to be alive for the sun to rise, and I don’t want you killing anyone unless if they are one hundred percent evil.”

“Corruption is one-hundred percent no matter the proportion. But like I said,” I remarked quietly, slowing my speech as though I were talking to a particularly slow child, “it’s only if things go according to plan.”

“Talking and scolding I will allow,” Jacob said, jumping to block my path, “but no fucking murder, comprende?”

“Indeed,” I grunted, sliding under Jacob without missing a beat as much as my hyperbole had missed him, his supposed ability to allow me anything sliding into second place for the biggest joke this world had to offer, my own hideous gullibility taking the top slot.

“Oh crap,” Jacob gasped as I continued for the darkness crates beyond, "thinkthinkthinkthinkthink yessss, token, sand, he's a displaced, send back, right, what was it," last of my head just began to slip beneath the crates when I heard him shout, “Our contract is complete!” as he dashed back to type a string of commands into the bunker’s console.

A golden light bloomed above me, and a familiar pulling sensation began tugging me from of the deep-dark as the nightmare-sand once more began to spike along my limbs, “God dammit, no, not again!” I cried out, my feet already pulling into the event-horizon of the golden tear in space, ready to throw me into who knew where this time.

“Perhaps the next time we meet, it could go a bit better,” Jacob said as his console beeped, producing a pale-grey twelve by twelve inch cube from the center. Picking it up, he tossed it into the vortex just as it swallowed the last of my grip, adding, “hopefully this will help mellow you out,” and tossed in a small red-gear for good measure, which I uselessly flinched from, fearing an explosion that didn’t come, sending me to spin about in the aether just as the portal closed.

***

Equestria: Version 13.9.1818.1518

Falling through the emptiness, the nightmare-sand seemed to dig into me more viciously than it had the first time. ‘He had known, he lied to me,’ the quiet thought buzzed behind the cacophony of feelings that flooded my senses. But even in the haze of frustration and violence I was still cognizant enough for my fear to hold me in place, and as soon as my body bounced and skidded to a halt on the ground below me I waited for oblivion…

…

…

The sound of feathers and tinkling of magic burst around my ears as the rush of their surrounding fears bombarded me. Someone put a hoof on my back, flipping me over. Even with my eyes held tightly shut, the darkness gave way to a suffused red as the sunlight bled through the thin membranes from above. I had been lied to, bamboozled, and suckered. I was frustrated, and worse, I continued to embarrass myself by crying in front of others.

“Stop touching me,” I heard myself hiss as I fell to the cold-isolation of the shadows. I just needed to be alone, why didn’t they understand. I just needed to be alone, and they wouldn’t have to stoop to bothering with me.

Resurfacing, I leaned forward, the warmth of the sun heating my neck and back as the cool of the soft carpet-like grass began warming beneath my crossed-legs. Closing my eyes, the light reflecting off of the white-marble surrounding me, I took in a soothing, warm breath of air, the scent of the flowers just beyond the hedges tickling my nose, and listened. Taking in the soft keening of the wind as it flowed around the stonework around me, I began to wait out the storm and pull my emotions back where they belonged. Soon, I would be able to think again and make up for my mistakes.

(11)

It was with some trepidation that Princess Celestia, accompanied by her sister, Princess Luna, listened to their castle guest’s report on his disappearing act. From the mages it had been verified that there had indeed been a recent dimensional distortion, though without a physical anchor to guide the multitude of interlacing magics, let alone lock upon Wayde for his initial trip, the event was, as of now, a working example of impossibilities in motion. However, this would, hopefully, not remain so for long given some of the trinkets that had passed through with him. The energy readings they gave off were like nothing anypony had seen, but, for now, only the future could reveal what the wisps of dimensional-magic clinging to the harmonic matrices around them might truly entail. Wayde, however, was another story.

His trip had been much longer on his side of things, much to the gloating of a few theorists on time-dilation in conjunction with certain modes of dimensional travel, and once he had been found, sitting in the royal statue gardens of all places, he had been nothing but cooperative in the ensuing investigation. However, it was his attitude, or rather, a lack of it, that had been cause for some concern. Yes he was helpful, but his affect, the way he spoke and moved, had become muted. His description of his trip might have been said to be wholly unemotional were it not for the undercurrent of shame which were clearly highlighted when his own actions were mentioned. Even contending with the fact he had been brought into a world where analogues of the princesses were less than scrupulous, he still chose to shoulder much of blame.

It was remarkable, in a way. He recognized his want for a show of valor had indeed hampered his insight, but the way he let the blow strike him, how it shaped his actions, one might have thought he was doing little more than sulking, but the look of determination in his eye, small as they were, alien as they were, seemed so similar to the look she saw in the eyes of her own guards, the steely look of determination to never make that mistake again. At least, that’s the impression Celestia had once she and her sister had exhausted their line of questioning, giving Wayde his leave.

Once alone, Celestia turned to her sister, who had remained largely silent throughout the whole exchange, and was now pouring a steaming cup of coffee from her favorite kettle, a simple silver pitcher enchanted to hold the temperature of the liquid housed within. However, rather than adding her usual three lumps of sugar, Luna was, instead, taking the midnight-liquid in stride, quaffing the entire cup’s worth in one go. ‘Oh dear,’ Celestia worried.

In the intervening time it took for Luna to pour out another cup, this time taking the time to plop in a few cubes of sugar and a dob of cream, Celestia took a silent breath and said, “An interesting report, all things considered.”

Luna remained silent, but gave a nod while levitating a small spoon to stir her, now, sweetened concoction.

Pressing forward, Celestia added, “And what are your thoughts?”

Luna continued to stir her steaming drink, and, stalling for time, took the time to wipe and gently replace the decorative-spoon upon the tray. “Straight to the point as ever Tia,” she muttered, though a hint of mirth just dusted her firm tone, “with that in mind, his violent words at the culmination of his frustration give me cause for concern.” Waving off her sister’s oncoming response with a hoof she added, “And no, I only mention it in concern for his own well being. He reminds me all too much of myself before I… fell,” she sighed, frowning as she dropped her gaze from her sister's.

“Oh Luna,” Celestia whispered, extending a wing to rest atop her sister’s back.

“Thank you,” Luna smiled weakly, leaning into her sister’s embrace before continuing at a more reasonable volume in the intimate space, “Well, while this might be too forward, I think it would be all too prudent to begin introducing him to more kindly interactions. As beneficial as physical training with others can be, more peaceable activities may be of some benefit at this.”

“Interesting,” Celestia replied coyly, taking a sip of the sugar she’d diluted with a spot of zebrican red-tea, nudging one her sister’s wing with her own, tipping her to the side, “might you have anything in mind then?”

“As a matter of fact,” Luna bluffed, masking her telling blush behind an extending wing to ‘retaliated’ against her sister’s ‘attack’, “I’ve already got somepony in mind.”

***

Opening my eyes, shocked, as much as I could manage that is, that I had gone an slept an actual portion of the night, I began the laborious process of sitting up, starting with placing my elbows at my sides and slowly pushing out my chest, only to flop back down at the sudden and familiar contraction of pain that drew at the center of my chest. Sighing, I slowly pushed myself up to a sitting position anyway, I wasn’t going to do myself any favors by just lying in bed like a lump. Gently sliding my legs over the side of the bed I made my way to the bathroom in hopes of running some hot water over my rib-cage and the screaming muscles beneath to see if it might settle them back down. If not, I’d see if I could find some sort of muscle relaxant.

Starting the shower, I gingerly stepped into the Jacuzzi-sized hole in the ground, careful to keep from any excess movement, and holding my breath, only to let out a huff of displeasure as the gentle stream of steaming-water fell from the shower-head and shattered upon my dim grey-flesh.

Ever since Princess Celestia and Luna had interviewed me over yesterday’s failings, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling something terrible was coming. They hadn’t proclaimed any punishment, but that just meant they were just busy coming up with something suitable. Honestly, I’d lost track of all the times my sand had come to nip at me through the night, but eventually they just gave up.

“Woo,” I mumbled, swirling an index finger in the victory that I could bind up my emotions tight enough for an honest to goodness physiological-backlash the likes of which had shamed the likes of my living-nightmares to leaving me to wallow in solitude for the remaindered of a night.

Taking in a breath, relieved to feel that whatever muscles clung to the underside of my ribs unclench, if only a little bit, and exhaled into the low beating of water onto tile.

‘Today is a new day,’ I thought, extending an arm, watching as the water spiraled into a new direction down my hand, ‘and it won’t get any better if I worry myself to the point of harm… some more. If it didn’t help me in college, then it’s not going to help me in Pony Land.’

Moving out of the shower, and beginning to do what little cleaning I could manage on my clothes, I began to wonder, not for the first time, what exactly had begun to happen to my life. All things considered, I had a roof over my head, food to eat, and a comfortable bed, so I really shouldn’t complain about something as pitiful as being sorry over having super-powers, even if I didn’t fully understand them. The dodge-ball games were certainly fun, even if I had been losing every game so far. But the guardsmen were certainly cool enough, they’d even gone so far as to invite me for lunch over at the mess a few times. But none of that stopped the niggling thoughts scraping away at the back of my mind: ‘time waster’ and ‘what physiology scans?’. The only thing that really kept them from turning to full blown worries was just how little I really knew about magic in this world.

Gently wringing out my cloak and placing it over the empty counter-top, I bent down, to what would have been a comfortable height for a pony, to the drawer with the hair/mane-dryer. Watching as tiny streams of steam began to rise, I briefly wondered at the seemingly mismatched levels of technology, electricity was definitely a thing, though maybe it wasn’t, I hadn’t had to plug the thing in after all. And kicking off from that mystery, would it would be any use for me to go to the library and see if there was anything I could do in finding my way back home?

It really wasn’t that far-fetched. The Princesses had clarified much of what I’d learned from the show and comics, how much of a peeper that made me feel like notwithstanding, and while not everything had turned out to be true, like Twilight using mind control to cause a problem, but rather had a bit of a mental episode where she thought she had, and neither had she ever refused to use her magic on thuggish villains because of some far-fetched law about ill-gained squatters rights, but Nightmare Moon had indeed been considered a fairytale, and if something as important as that had been relegated to the realms of fiction, then it stood to reason that there could be others as well, others that a practitioner of the natural, for this world, sciences might overlook.

Sliding on my, slightly damp, but warm clothing, I wondered who I’d have to notify for a trip to the library. Of course I’d need to find some breakfast first, and I made my way out of the bathroom and to the bedroom door, but, as I placed my hand upon the knob my vision swam. When it returned, rather than seeing an empty hall from the opened door, I instead found my head had turn back to the bed, my eyes glued to the shadows beneath, a small spark of desire suddenly bursting into a full blown need. Looking down, concerned at how hot my palms were getting, only to find my fingers scrapping against them, I slowly tilted to the side, my teeth grinding, falling to shadow on the floor and flying to the darkness beneath, the deeper darkness blooming, perfectly framing the lights of the creatures around me, save a single annoyance which had the utter temerity to flare.

***

Sliding out slowly from under the bed, I rubbed my temples through blinking eyes and getting re-used to the bright light of the guest-room. Blearily looking to the gilt clock above the door, it hadn’t even been a full minute.

Typically, or, at least I had imagined saving a child falling to their death while certainly a worrisome affair wouldn’t leave one with a splitting head-ache. Gingerly lying on the cold of the carpet, I let out a grunt, glad that at least touching the floor wasn’t making me feel any worse, I wondered, and not for the first time: what the hell is wrong with me?
It, it was a light. And it had flared in ‘the deep dark’, pressing and pulling at the back of my eyes, and something, something so loud, something that needed to see the child’s delicious fear.

“Uuhhgh,” I moaned as tiny motes of memory surged through my mind’s eye, my own eyes throbbing in sympathy:

Falling pony.

Cave shaft.

Wrapping an arm around him.

Slow down, no Gwen Stacy.

Such fear he’d never see his parents, and his home where he felt… safe.

It was so obvious where he lived, I just… through the dark, and there it all was.

Groaning as my eyes gave another vicious throb, I let the thought go, and just let the dulling pain ride its way out. Why had the fear just ... bloomed like that? Why had it been so tantalizing? Was I getting stronger? Was it bad? probably

Whatever it was, I needed to let the princess know the next time they or the associates came around. Until then, groaning, I raised myself to my elbows, I wasn’t going to let this opportunity to either find myself a way home and/or find something to suck up or erase my powers. Hell, this place was so chock full of magic you could stumble into a magic comic-book store and not realize it ‘til you were smack dab in the middle of the story. And those were some good odds as far as I was concerned.

Stumbling to the door, only to realize what I’d forgotten, I moved back to the night-stand, fumbling with the drawer until I could pull out an honest to goodness ball-point pen and scratch out a note on my journal which had, thankfully, been returned to me. Tearing out the finished note and placing it at the center of a hastily made bed, I fell through the floor, determined to do something at least marginally useful and find the nearest library, certain that something called The Canterlot Archives would hold just about everything except what fell under the category of fiction. But that’s academia for you.

***

Eyes forward, Luna, mentally reminding herself to wear a small grin upon her face, was rather glad Fluttershy had taken up the impromptu invitation she’s sent via carrier owl last night, but her head was still a swirl she and did not wish to intimidate the poor dear any more than she had already by an inopportune frown whilst deep in thought like the one she'd shown only minutes previous when she had met her with her royal guards at the locomotive station.

“uhm, well, are you really sure I’m the right pony for the job?” Fluttershy asked, her doubts only doubling as she spied the animal sanctuary she had made such a fool of herself in during her first Galloping Gala at the castle.

“Indeed,” Luna replied, matching the cream pegasus’s nearly hushed tone, the little dear really was rather excitable. “Though, I hope this isn’t too much of an imposition,” Luna amended, “I know this is all rather sudden, but I am quite concerned for Our guest, and, while I wish to help him, I would prefer the council of somepony who has had dealings with, shall we say,” tilting her head, “are uniquely powerful.”

“P-powerful?”

“Yes, both I and my sister are still impressed with how well you managed to reform Discord,” Luna nodded, “and, should this particular… individual, meet to your standards, I will attempt a, shall we say, a form of schooling so that we might have a better grasp of their powers.”

“oh,” said the Element of Kindness, though Luna was hard pressed whether to attribute this to flustering to the compliment or her general temerity . Fluttershy was so often paired with the other Elements as a whole, though this was of little enough concern, after all, this particular pegasus had been sighted balking fully grown dragons with little more than a look.

“um, well, I don’t mean to pry, but just who are we going to meet your highness?” Fluttershy asked, letting her pale-pink mane fall over nervously over her right eye.

“Ah, yes,” Luna said, her worry sending her smile to waver for but the smallest of moments, “recall when you were brought to Saddle Arabia a few weeks back?”

Fluttershy nodded silently, and, keeping abreast with the princess, remained quiet as she listened to the facts of what had been happening as they were presented to her.

Much of the sordid details, of course, was left out, but Princess Luna made it clear that Wayde, as he called himself, the bringer of nightmares, was her intended charge. His ability to pass through objects was noted, if underplayed for the sake of not wishing to undermine security, and ended with this morning, the Princes having ordered the guards to postpone Wayde’s movement tests, though, honestly they had gone on long enough, having begun to turn into something of friendly competition instead. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with such activities as they tended to breed comradery, Luna was just… wary, of any perceived misconduct, unconscious or otherwise, for having a game that was constantly six versus one, even if her guest made no outward protests, though of course this last thought was kept to herself.

Just before the final corner to the guest chamber was rounded however, both ponies were cut off by a pegasus guard coming from their intended destination. Coming to attention as soon as he saw the Princess, his golden-armor glowing in the sunbeams that caught on his armor from the long windows above, he saluted quickly before silently winging over a folded piece of parchment.

Taking the slip in her indigo aura, Luna gently unfolded the message, reading quickly the short note within.

“Thank you Sergeant, you may leave,” she nodded to the guard, who saluted in kind before smartly stepping aside in the wide hallway and made his exit.

Fluttershy watched as Princess Luna gave a slight frown, her brows knitting, before her previous smile fell back seamlessly back into place. “Is everything alright Princess?”

“Oh yes,” Luna replied, not skipping a beat, “though I do suppose we’ll be having our meeting a bit farther away than I planned. I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Oh there’s no need to apologize,” Fluttershy replied, blushing slightly at realizing she’d told a princess to do something.

“Thank you Fluttershy, you are too kind. Though, if it’s all the same to you, I should like to visit the kitchens before we leave. Tell me, are there any pastries you’re particularly fond of?”

“Well,” Fluttershy blushed, taking note of one of the many ornamental hanging-clocks they had passed on their way here and saw that it was just a few minutes ‘til noon.

***

Sighing, I got up as another cloud of nightmare-sand faltered, the book it held within itself falling to the floor as the sand continued to swirl around, trying to regain cohesion and re-grip it. Sweeping back the platter-sized puff, the grains sparkling their individually contained fears into my mind as they made contact, reshelved the book and moved back to my table on the second floor of the Lime Stone Library. Returning to my latest find, a compendium of fables, the current one now about a cobalt golem and her octopus companion. I sat back down on the floor, unable to sit in any of the pony-sized chairs, and breathed in the scent of pine-shelves and the mingling scent of book-bindings and the pages within. Closing my eyes, I took another breath of the familiar library-air, and pulled back the failed cloud of sand to… wherever it was stored when I wasn’t using it.

Weeks ago I could easily remember making singing turret-replicas, hammocks, and even shovels, so why was it so difficult to hold and move things now, let alone illustrated children books that couldn’t weigh more than two pounds at most? And it wasn’t even that they were ghosting through the material, rather, it seemed as if the sand was simply getting exhausted, if that was the right word for it. It certainly wasn’t alive, not like when I first saw it, it was too… static-y, nothing like real people or their fear. The best thing I could think of was comparing it to an advance computer program more than anything, but that was about all I could figure out other than that each grain held an individual fear.

What was so different now? I didn’t feel forgotten, though, that was objectively hard to really tell given I’d just come from a wasteland of belief back to a country I’d… God, I’d terrorized an entire country. The book fell from my fingers, the back of my head banging on the thin rug and the stone-floor beneath. Here I was worrying about my fucking sand when I was The Boogeyman, house-invader and terrorizer of families. Fuck Wayde.

Raising an inhumanly grey-hand to my face I wondered, ‘do I really deserve to get back to Earth?’ The thought brought on a new wave of disgust and I slammed my hand, knuckles first, back to the floor as images of exploring a new world filled my head. How dare I?

“Whatever,” I mumbled, sitting back up, rubbing my hand, my morning declaration surfacing to nag at how complaining about this wasn’t going to help anyone.

With one last sigh, I started back for the book until I felt a familiar wave of fear. It was Princess Luna, I’d recognize that chilling vigilance against future self-corruption anywhere.

‘Oh crap,’ I thought, and moved to place the three other books I had with me back on the shelves.

She wasn’t alone either, though, I was pretty sure the second one was the librarian I’d met at the front desk when I came in, but I couldn’t place the third and final bubble of fear, but whoever they were, they were simply riddled with it, even more so than the guards I normally came across. It wasn’t nearly as big as the “immortal” alicorn’s, but they were working on it.

Finally hearing the sound of hoof steps, I leaned into the sound, my imagination running wild with thoughts of what kind of warrior would be so well versed in enough threats to hold so many fears.

“-trangest thing,” the old mare chuckled softly, “a puddle of shadow sprouts up into a hornless-minotaur and asks for the foal’s section of the library. Guess jailers down in Tartarus have families too, but I’d no idea they were a royal guest.”

“Indeed,” Princess Luna replied in a cheery library-tone, “though, might I ask if he said or asked for anything else?”

“Mmm,” the librarian thought, their echoing hoof-falls pausing. She had looked pretty old, if wrinkles actually meant anything here, she’d been reading the whole of our ten-second exchange to boot, “can’t say that he did Princess. Just asked for the foal’s section then glided on up to the stairs.”

They soon rounded the corner of the P-PR’s book-row and into the reading foyer just within easy looking distance in front of the children’s section.

“Ah, hello Wayde,” Princess Luna grinned.

“Yes ma’am,” I replied before I realized I hadn’t been told to do anything yet, glancing behind to the pony still hiding behind the shelves I added, “should I go to the training field now?”

“Actually,” Luna smiled, “I was hoping you might join us for lunch.”

“There will be no eating in the library,” the faded-green librarian interrupted, her eyes squinting behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

“Of course,” Princess Luna nodded before turning back to me and said, “I was actually hoping you could join us in the gardens.”

I nodded, unsure of what exactly she meant.

“Wondrous,” Luna smiled, closing her eyes, as her horn glowing for a few moments before it gave a blinding flash of teal.

Blinking the spots of pink from my eyes, the sudden feeling of flower-scented wind and a stomach lurching into my mouth was more than enough to throw me off balance. It was clear we were in some sort of park, or garden, if the patches of white on long fuzzy green things were any indication. The little nodes of fear of everyone beneath on the first floor of the library had gone, a ring of space now surrounding the three of us in the a garden, the royal garden as I spotted the walls of Canterlot Castle and its pointed dome-spires atop it, my vision returning.

“Fluttershy,” Princess Luna intoned softly, “I should like to introduce you to Wayde Molan.”

‘Ohshit,’ the thought popped, my body to stiffening, not unnoticed by either parties.

Fluttershy, hiding half of her face behind her long pink-mane, took the initiative, trotting over a few steps closer to me from behind the princess and said, “Um, hello Mr. Molan, I’m Fluttershy.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Fluttershy,” I reflexed, standing to attention and giving a small nod of my head. I’ll give fear that, it can readily help pull me in to mind my surroundings, though typically that’s ended up meaning I fall into ‘formal mode’ in new situations for fear of making a fool of myself otherwise. Makes parties a bit of a slog, but then again, I never gone to many parties.

“Well, let’s not waste any more time shall we,” Princess Luna beamed, turning towards the castle, or at least, that’s what I thought as we went up the packed-dirt path. Passing a bush trimmed into a knight’s chess-piece I followed behind Princess Luna on the left as Fluttershy took up the right, though she made sure to walk directly beside the princess.

‘Where did this come from,’ I wondered silently. ‘Okay, a pony I’m not technically supposed to know and the princess have invited me to lunch, but why? I’ve previously had a disgusting melt-down after landing in another Equestria, letting myself be played like a – ooo, I didn’t know flowers could look like that – dyeyegh… just how much was Fluttershy told, and what was I supposed to do?’

-onderful, just in time,” Luna said, shaking me from my spiraling line of thought.

Looking up from the flower path I saw two pegasi land by a large white gazebo, each balancing a covered silver-platter on their backs, and as they walked past the two guards stationed just to the sides of the steps, they quickly made their way up and then… down, only to reappear the next moment with a smile to their princess and their burdens gone.

Nodding to the guards, Luna moved up first, followed by Fluttershy, and as I tailed behind I saw the sunken table within, painted to match the rest of the gazebo save for a few wispy flowering-vines around the edges, and the covered platters the two servers had brought with an added silver pitcher and three matching glasses.

Taking a seat on the padded circle-bench, finding both it and the height it left me at the table surprisingly comfortable, I looked up to the two ponies in silence, making sure to smile. “So,” I asked, though not impolitely, “what, might I ask, is the occasion?”

“The occasion,” Princess Luna replied, her horn alighting the pitcher as it poured its icy-pink contents into the three glasses, “is that we wish to get to know you better,” and moved the glasses to each of us as pitcher lightly knocked upon the table as it was set down.

“And what is it that you ladies want to know?” I asked, briefly eyeing Fluttershy, who looked down into her cup, before returning my gaze to the princess.

“Okay, but why is-”

“My friend,” a deep voice purred, a yellow talon filling my vision before it pushed my head to the table, a new bubble of fear filling in the space above me soon after, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, and, AH. GASP! You didn’t forget about tea with your bestest friend Discord did you. Oh Fluttershy,” Discord sniffled dramatically, a few oversized crocodile-tears plastering my hair even closer to my head than normal, “I thought you cared?”

“Oh I do Discord, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to let you know in time, but Princess Luna asked me to come to Canterlot and-”

“Pfft, and what?” Discord scoffed, taking his claw off my head to cross his arms, “come to see if the magic of friendship could reform the darkness?” He chuckled, flicking my nose with the fluffy end of his snaking red-tail as he floated over to her, “you DO know that’s why Princess Luna here is the princess of the night and not the dark, right? She’s redeemable, the guiding light in the dark. It’s kind of in her name, you know, la luna. Heck, even I’m technically redeemable since my mmm,” he flexed his lion arm, a picture of an anchor blooming in the bulging show of muscle, “magnificence, is merely a chaos to your order. But him,” he pointed from behind the witness stand, Luna flaring her wings as she was lifted up on the judge’s stand that rose from the ground to flank it, “just look at how the shadows cling to that dark little creature. Ya’know you really should just call this whole thing a wash and come back home with me and have some nice, relaxing tea.”

‘That’s it.’

“I don’t care if you are my hero,” I growled, feeling strings of black-sand rising from the corners of my mouth, “no one besmirches my honor like that.”

“Wha’d you say?” Discord chuckled, raising his left eye and brow, followed by his eye a moment later.

“Discooord,” Fluttershy said, in, what, I think, was a warning tone, “did you read my personal mail, again?”

“Hold on Flutters,” Discord said, sliding Fluttershy closer to the princess as he took up the intervening space, his eyes still pointing in my direction , “Wha’d you say?”

‘Jerk.’

“Did I stu-stu-stutter?” the sides of my mouth twitching as the sand's touch.

“Nooo,” Discord replied, his smirk peeling off the side of his face to better show its toothsome-entirety, eagle claw stroking at his small beard, “I don’t suppose you did.”

“Well Discord?” Luna asked, her tone eerily calm.

“Mmmmmm, I duh’no. Interesting response. Could go either way. Buuut,” he hummed, floating over towards me as his head spun behind to look at Luna, “I for one think I make an excellent role-model,” his chest puffing out in a spray of downy red-feathers, “so he’s either a brilliant evil-master-mind, or, Celestia forbid, an honest person. Muahahaa… huh?” He paused, looking up to the sky, “oh right,” and snapped his fingers, a small green cloud bursting into existence over his head crackling with yellow lightning, “Muahahahahahaa!” Still grinning, the last echoes of his laughter dying away with the shrinking green cloud, he gave a quick snap of his tail and was gone.

Recovering first after a quick shake of her head, Fluttershy squeaked, “I am so sorry about that, I completely forgot to leave Discord a note and-”

“You needn’t worry Fluttershy,” Princess Luna winked to her, taking a dainty sip of what I was now sure was a strawberry-smoothie, “everything is just fine. And,” she added, turning to me, “I’ll be seeing you later tonight Wayde,” she paused, taking another sip, “I think it’s high time we started doing some real science, away from all those stuff lab-colts, yes?”

“Uhh,” I managed to say, shaking my head for yes, my frustration finding itself slapped aside as confusion waddled its preponderance into my mind.

“Excellent,” she grinned, “now, let’s start off with something simple. What’s your favorite color?”

Author's Notes:

Been a while, huh?

(12)

“You did WHAT?” Rainbow Dash squawked, attracting the attention of the customers idling in Sugarcube Corner, her friends at the table included, before rubbing the back of her prismic-mane self-consciously, “eh-heh, sorry,” she mumbled to the crowd before turning back to her friends at the table.

“Well in some cultures, I believe it is called talking,” Pinkie Pie murmured, eyeing Fluttershy while stroking her chin, “but what the savage is saying I haven’t the darndest clue.”

“ha ha Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash deadpanned with a smirk, elbowing the pink-friend to her left before they returned their gazes to Fluttershy.

“Um, yes, well, Princess Luna asked me to go to Canterlot to act as a sort of, consultant, I guess, and see if I thought that the nightmare-creature wasn’t so bad,” Fluttershy shrugged, more bewildered than anything, especially now that she was back in the familiar town of Ponyville.

“So wait, you actually saw it?!?” Twilight exclaimed, her horn already twinkling with violet-light as she extracted her emergency notepad and quill from her saddlebags, still slightly miffed that she hadn’t been able to see the creature herself after having gone all the way to Saddle Arabia, though she would never admit to something so foalish out loud. “What did it look like?”

“Well,” Fluttershy recalled, tilting her head, “he was definitely a primate, though he’s not of any species I’ve ever even read about, and while I couldn’t see exactly what his feet looked like, they were definitely slender given the shape of his boots, and his posture and gait would seem to sugge-”

“Boots, darling?” Rarity perked, eyes sparkling, eliciting a groan from both Rainbow Dash and Applejack.

“Oh, uh yes,” Fluttershy blushed, “but they were all black, just like his trousers and robe, so I wasn’t really able to make out any details. Sorry Rarity.”

“Oh, nothing to trouble yourself over dear,” Rarity smiled encouragingly, “as intriguing as a mystery monster wearing clothes is, it sounds rather tacky.”

“Weellll,” Fluttershy hummed quietly, lowering her gaze, but not too much, she was with her friends, not her animal-friends, so she didn't have to worry about her body-langue too much, “it didn’t really look so bad, it actually sort of complimented his grey skin-tone.”

That got a round of tensing from everypony, even Pinkie Pie, as they silently speculated on what those colors normally meant from somepony who caused such a stir.

“Anyway,” Applejack redirected, throwing a hoof towards Fluttershy, “what did you think about this, guy, was it?”

“He was, and, honestly, he was rather nice, if a bit, spooky, it’s just,” she paused, rocking her head from side to side before ending it with a small nod, before saying, “you know how I normally have tea with Discord on Tuesday’s?”

Her friends replied to the affirmative, save Pinkie who simply gasped, her hooves moving to close her mouth before it went too wide before whisper-yelling, “You mean Discord got miffed and crashed your late-brunch with the Princess and her plus one?”

Fluttershy nodded, “I almost thought Wayde was going to do something scary after Discord called him a villain, especially the way that black sand began to steam out of his mouth like,” she shuddered, “dragon-fire, but, instead he just said that nopony gets to besmirch his honor like that, not even his hero, Discord.”

Silence reigned as Fluttershy waited for another question, a response, anything beside the blank, emotionless stares she was getting from her friends, well, at least until the corners of their mouths all began to curve upward, and, as one, fell to roaring-laughter. Even Fluttershy began cracking up, if only because of how silly Pinkie looked bouncing on her spring-curl tail with each unrestrained-giggle.

Discord?

A hero?

Now that was a laugh.

***

“Please continue Mr. Molan,” the guardsman about-faced, stopping at attention halfway down the empty hallway, “the Princess is waiting.”

“Bu-” I said, already moving.

“I don’t have clearance for that room,” he said, eyes forward, staring back towards the four-way intersections I could had sworn we passed more than once on my way to Princess Luna’s ‘Science Wing’.

A simple dark metal door was the only other thing in sight, and it was at the end of the hall, though I wouldn’t guess if it was iron, steel, or some other magical metal that only formed in Equestria. Coming to a halt in front of it, seeing it lacked so much as rivet, let alone a knob, I knocked, at least, I felt my knuckles hit the thing, but I didn’t hear anything.

I didn’t have to wait long as the door swung in a moment later, revealing Princess Luna sitting in the middle of a large, silvery platform that jutted out from the wall to extend out into, what I assumed, was the center of the pyramidally-shaped room.

‘At least the walkway looks real,’ I thought as I walked through the white-walled expanse of a room. I couldn’t imagine where any of the illumination was, and I suspected that if there weren’t any lines to mark the tiles, I might have mistaken the room for being endless.

“Welcome to Morpheus,” Princess Luna said, her words echoing across the room as I stopped just a few paces in front of her.

“Thank you?” I said, letting my gaze wander. Hadn’t she said something about experiments?

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, this room is rather special,” Luna said, I nodded. “Well, suffice to say, this is the most suitable room to test your dream-shaping capabilities on such short notice.”

I nodded again, “Oh,” I interrupted as she took a breath, “I need to tell you about this morning. See, I, well, this weird light that screamed inside my head and I just kinda followed it where I ended up sticking out the side of a shaft in the caves below Canterlot where I caught some little kid who was falling down it, and then I, he just feared he’d never see his mom again and it led me to his house, and then I just left him there.” Taking a breath I added, “And I kind a remember something like that happening on the train in the desert, but this time when I got back I didn’t pass out.” Realizing I was starting to babble I clenched my fist to stop my fingers from twiddling, and calmly added, “I’m not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, I just thought you should know. Apologies for not telling you sooner.”

“Thank you for keeping Us informed Wayde,” Luna nodded, “it is appreciated.”

I nodded back, still a little off from the stark whiteness of the room.

“And yes, Raya is doing quite well for herself. If you should wish to see her, I’m sure she would be quite happy to entertain the company of the stallion who saved her.”

‘… oh.’ I thought, nodding when it dawned on me she’d actually meant what she’d said.

“On to science,” Luna said, “tonight we shall attempt to learn more about your dream-shaping powers.”

That sounded like a terrible idea, but before I could protest on their only being two people in the room, one being a terrorist and one being a princess, Luna’s horn lit in a sheen of crackling blue and white energy, where one stream of the miniature lightning struck her just above the crown of her head while the other began to spread out before her like a movie-screen before it began to bubble out into a more nebulous three-dimensional shape, where, inside, the grey-bubble began to clear away to show a small island with a sleeping Luna stretched out beneath the soft light of the lily-flower above her and a pond that so peaceful it reflected the mingling hues of the starry night’s violets, blues, and blacks so seamlessly that if I couldn’t just make out the marble-white sand of the pond at the edges of the scene I would have thought it to be a mirror. But the oddest thing of all was the way it made the sand give a call in the back of my head. Almost as though it were-

“This is one of Our dreams,” Princess Luna said coolly, “now, I’ve heard how you think you have affected so many of our subjects, but I require some firsthoof experience before I can give you any direct pointers. So, if you would kindly,” she gestured with a nod to the dream floating before us.

‘Heh, magic’ I thought, taking a step forward and just sticking my hand into the thing like normal.

Luna winced, the dream shaking before the night-sky within began to draw in on itself, the stars pulling closer together leaving an inky-blackness in their wake. They almost looked like they were going to turn into a pony, but, instead, a more human shape took its place before reaching a galaxy-infused hand to pluck the sleeping dream-Luna from the ground by her starry mane, which quickly drained out of her into the me-monster, leaving it a pale-blue before seemingly growing bored with the pony who had still to gather her wits, before causally flinging her away with a flick of its giant-wrist before it started to claw away at the dreamscape, the gashes of color flowing into each other like wounds and draining into each other until the whole of the dream threatened to become a lifeless gray morass.

The magic from Luna’s horn retreated, the dream with it, as she continued to look at my hand, which had remained touching the dream up until the star-creature formed and I began to spread its terror through the dream.

“Alright, let’s try that again,” Luna said, the dream-cloud reforming exactly as it had before it was struck by nightmares, “But this time, see if you can make it come from the water.”

I froze. I’d never tried to shape a dream before, it never even occurred to me to try. It sounded monstrous, especially considering all I’d even done with it, but maybe- Stretching out my hand, repeating the word ‘water’ to myself as I connected with the newly-formed dream, almost as if to spite me, a pink mountain drew itself up from the shore before it shattered into a thousand floating-pieces, where they all turned to a smoky-crystal, some remaining pink, while the others turned to a pale blue or green, and began to ascend into the heavens, and angled the star-light through themselves to shoot a barrage of laser fire into the sleeping dream-Luna who’s sliced remains began to scream soundlessly in pain.

“Try again,” Luna said, collapsing and reforming the dream.

Again the nightmare failed to have anything to do with water as flaming asteroids, each one split by a human-like mouth twisted into a sneering grin, began peppering the dream with holes which erupted into an acidic orange-smoke. Luna ended that one quickly before things became too gruesome for her counter-part.

“Again,” Luna said, hardly blinking.

Clenching my fist, a bit of sand leaking over my knuckles, thoughts of drowning, cold water, burning lungs, coughing, and slowness bubbling in my mind, I exhaled loudly through my nose, and slowly placed my hand on the dream. Much to my surprise, the pond began to blacken, refusing to reflect the star-light from above, and slowly began to rise up along the shore of the small island where the sleeping-Luna stirred and lazily rolled to her side, further up the island, but to no avail. The water clung to her in glossy-black ribbons, but all too soon she was shaking from the cold as the water wrapped around her like a straightjacket, cinching in her wings and limbs as it flowed up her sputtering horn, extinguishing it, and then then bowled around her head in a small sphere before slowly bringing her and the island into the water without so much as a ripple.

“Interesting,” Luna said, “what did you do with your sand there?”

“Nothing, I said, brushing off the last few grains off my knuckles on my pant leg, “they just sort of appear when I let my emotions get the better of me, I mean, they’re, they’re really just, sort of, fears, but they seem more theatric than anything,” I grumbled, thinking about how poorly they were able to hold onto mere books but had been able to shear through those weird robots like wet-paper.

‘Hey, buddy, remember, the golden sand-man used the sand to give children good dreams, so maybe Pitch could do it too. And hey, that just means you just dismissed the words of someone with centuries of experience in both life and dreaming.’

With that sucker-punch of a thought, my shoulders fell.

“Is something the matter?” Luna asked, the dream slowly taking form once more.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, squaring my shoulders, “I was just wrong.”

Putting some thought into it, and this time bringing up my sand with it, I felt for something more spidery. Letting the growing ribbon of sand extend from my palm, it floated languidly over the dream, slowly unraveling into individual grains that then peppered the outside of the sparkling-bubble before sinking in. Inside the dream, the stars began to lengthen, dropping from the sky like thread as others began to grow in size, eventually showing themselves to be the sparkling-abdomens of great black spiders that moved in concert to pull the remaining stars down in a great net which fell upon dream-Luna, who only woke when the spiders had all dropped from their perches and begun to move in a frenzy of legs and drooling-mandibles towards the helpless mare.

There was a slight popping sound as the dream vanished, and Luna asked, “Was that all intentional?”

“Well, I wanted spiders, but I didn’t know that that was all going to happen.”

“Hmm,” was all she said, reforming the dream before saying, “try making a single titan-sized spider from the shore.”

“Yes ma’am,” I nodded, thoughts of golems and sand-sculptures playing in my head.

***

“I think we’ve made some progress tonight,” Princess Luna cheered as she stepped into the castle hallway.

“Yes ma’am,” I answered, careful the swallow the drool that’d begun to pool in my mouth. It was kind of funny, in a detached sort of way, to have a hurt in your mind when your body feels fine.

‘Ow.’ I thought, flinching, nearly falling backward without the benefit of muscle-fatigue to weaken the impulse, sending my arms reeling, my sand too… too... something to catch me instead.

I was going to do this again tomorrow too, owing to Princess Luna’s relatively clear docket for the Night Court. Not that I could refuse. I was living in her house, so it was her rules.

‘At least I –ow- can still sleep,’ I _______, ‘I’d h –ow- ate to think what Princess Celestia might have me do me do if I couldn’t anymore.’

And with that thought quickly fading to the noiseless hum poking at… somewhere around my think, I couldn’t tell anymore, I made my way to my bathroom with the singular hope that maybe, just maybe, if I ran a cold-shower and laid down next to it, it would make enough white-noise to soothe my mind-ache.

Author's Notes:

Curses, didn't get this out when I wanted. Still, glad to get it out regardless.

(13) Mk. C: Tinsel Tree

Author's Notes:

Crossover with Buck you, I'm Iron Man (Ink Sword), Gravity of the Situation (DJSkywalker), and sundry others important in their own right, but not this particular chapter.

This took far longer than I wanted, but perhaps it was for the best. No more Mr. Marshmallow.

“What was that?” Luna asked. She almost sounded surprised, not that I blame her.

“Sorry,” I said, wincing, the last sparkling remnants of Luna’s dream-bubble flittering away as I recalled the human-sized block of sand. My mind-ache was back, not that it had managed to go away since last night, though the sounds of a cold-shower had helped.

Princess Luna had wanted me to try and get as many nightmares into her dream as I could manage, and, being the brilliant tactician that I am, had tried to cram in the monolith of combined fear and had managed to blow the dream to smithereens and crack up some of the walkway for my trouble.

‘You shou-ow- should have just brought a bunch of fea- sand into lit-ow- needles and inject them in from all side? Ah, Captain Hindsight to the resc-ow-ue.’

“Are you feeling alright?” Princess Luna asked, the dream noticeably unformed.

“Yeah, it’s just pain,” I said, giving a violent shake of my head to try and keep my train of thought online. If it didn’t hurt so much, I might have almost thought I was feeling sleepy. Still not sure what Luna hopes to gain from this.

“Be that as it may, w-” Princess Luna said, before a halo of golden-sand erupted above me, stealing away the sound.

My sand, unfocused as it was, came into sharp focus as it ribboned around my chest, tightening before the glaring ring of light swept it back, giving me just enough time for a tiny ‘no,’ before the ground was stolen from me.

Adrenaline soon poured into the gaps, and maybe it was the ring or the strange wavering grey-blackness around me but I found the thudding in the back of my head had, instead, given itself to the jackhammer going off in my chest, but at least I could think I could think without hurt.

Again the ring of sand opened, dropping over me before, and with its disappearance came the sensations it had numbed. I could feel my body twist in on itself, pulling closer together as belief flowed numbly out of me, my stomach lurching as gravity finally took hold of what passed for my body. I squinted at the sudden light, and, for just a moment, I was overwhelmed by the sudden heat and smell of sugar-cookies and frosting before I rolled into the floor, already a shadow, and waited for the stinging in my eyes to vanish.

I had almost hoped it wasn’t, but as my vision cleared I was greeted by the doughy cheeks and unkempt hair of Jacob, the self-proclaimed Iron Man.

“You,” the cold-word escaped to die on my mouth when I saw the assembled crowd around him. At any other time it would have filled me with awe to see such attention to detail given to such costumes, but here, where Iron Man’s suit was an actual thing and was in the hands of some flippant sociopath, it turned my stomach.

We were in a large kitchen, very large, that at least explained the smell, but the sleek/showy grandness of the appliances and whisk-toting ornament-shaped Christmas-themed looking robots were only further proof of what I wished could be just a bad dream.

“Didn’t you get my invitation?” he smirked, flashing a bit of teeth as he swept his hand to a dark, bipedal-looking version of Nightmare Moon, “I’m inviting displaced to a party. If you feel as though you are being kidnapped,” he shrugged, “I did state how to decline the offer.”

“Again with the lies,” I said through gritted-teeth, my mind-ache coming back again, “why-”

“Listen to me,” he interrupted, rolling his eyes, “I just stated that you had the ability to decline. Or is there too much sand in your ears Wayde?”

‘He’s the same as ev- holy shit was that Chrysalis?’ I worried, blinking as I saw the hole-pocked end of her tail as she left the room.

“And who exactly are you talking to?” the anthro Nightmare Moon hummed, leaning into Jacob’s ear, “because it looks like you’re talking to a cupboard.”

“Actually,” Jacob said, quirking an eyebrow, “that is another displaced, rather like Pitch Black if I recall. Now, in order for you to see him, you might want to believe first.”

A Venom Spider-man toeing the wall chuckled even as the likes of the surrounding comic-book looking villains continued to mingle and otherwise tend to themselves, but I felt it, the rush of belief even as the mingling fears of those around me finally began to seep through to me.

“Now Wayde, if you agreed to this invitation by accident, I can send you back, but I am trying to wash away any bad blood in between us,” Jacob said, leaning forward.

The urge to scream ‘yes’ was almost overwhelming. Go back, find a shower, let the cold sounds get rid of this ridiculous pain, and… and, I could leave all the people, ponies, griffins, everyone here, to deal with their manipulative princesses and the tinkering trickster alone.

‘This isn’t right.’

How long have I…

‘Help. Them.’

Just a few seconds, awareness I hadn’t had felt since I fell into Equestira, and all of them too terribly real. I had to do something.

‘He’s mad, slice him.’

I … had to do something about the mechanical wizard who fights alicorns and had clearly found the way to enchant comic book villains out of their stories and who knows what other people by conscription with this show of power alone.

‘No, don’t leave it to chance.’

“Your days of stealing across dimension are through,” I replied, slipping into the cupboard behind me before and then to the shadows beyond. I didn’t want to hear his reply.

***

Racing across the darkness, the lights were so similar, but each time I surfaced I was reminded how far I had come. In place of the prisons I had wanted to see were, instead, spas, resorts, and theme-parks. Wasted time, but it gave me a chance to plan, this was so much bigger than anything I’d ever done before. Could I wait until nightfall to reach for the Elements of Harmony, or would it be too late? Would they go through some teleporter, some air ship, or just snipe them from ranged? Did he even have lasers? Did any of those creatures with him have anything like that?

Finding a prison, a place where the city of Rydah had been back in m-… the last Equestria, even though it hurt, I couldn’t risk for the time and sent out my sand in papery waves. They’d find their day-nappers and nocturnal-sleepers. Even in the numbness of my shadow I felt my joints loosen, belief flowed back into me, but I needed more.

***

Sliding back across the walls, sure that his robots will have spot my un-cast shadow soon enough, I looked down from the garland crowding out the ceiling, and was hit so suddenly with jealousy I wanted to scream. There they were, smatterings of what all but the fears radiating off them would tell me were humans interspersed with quadrupedal and bipedal ponies alike. And I missed it, not my family, the few members I considered it, not the few friend I had managed to stumble upon, but humanity. I missed the feeling of being so surrounded that I could take them, every last Goddamn one of them, for granted.

It really did look like a Christmas feast down there, though I suppose it was Hearts Warming here, but with all the crazy looking people trussed up in costumes from comics, cartoons, and anime, it almost looked like Halloween.

‘Guess that makes me the Nightmare befor- focus! Gather them up. We’ll make sure they get what’s due to them, even if it means we never get to leave.’

Theatrics, that’s what I needed now. Make a show of force. Scare them.

Though they did little to actually light the room, from above, I sent out quick bursts of sand from the thin and twisted shadows hiding in the holly and ribbons and snuffed out the flames before whipping it all back into the fireplace, sending it to smoking ruin. The light of the room briefly dimmed before the unseen lights compensated. The nightmares pulsed around me, their power dulling the ache behind my eyes, and I sent them spiraling into the air, blooming around the necks of the seated as q circle of shining black blades, inches long, but wickedly sharp, and gleaming even under the sterile lighting.

“By the way Sir, it appears that our guest in black has returned.” said Jacob’s J.A.R.V.I.S.

Moving under the dark, I pulled up inside the gutted remains of the fireplace and stretched out, covering the table before stopping at the opposite head of the table where an empty seat had been left unattended. Curling around the legs, a cloud of sand puffed out from above, forming into my likeness before floating down to the seat, and, in a quiet voice that played through the blades, it said, “If one of you move before you are told, know that I will interpret it as the open sign of aggression that it is,” and leaned forward, hands clasped by its knees, the face drawing in shadows where none should have been.

“Out of the frying pan and into the oven,” the teenager near the middle groaned, closing his eyes as his sickly-green jacket shrugged into his jaw-line.

“What do you plan on doing Wayde?” Jacob asked, still sitting. “Kill me? These guest who mostly mean you no harm? This planet for holding me in it? What,” he continued, brows knitting in obvious mock confusion, “are you going to do after this? You’ll be stuck on this world unless I am able to let you go. Kill me, or any of them, and you can kiss your friends goodbye forever!”

I bit my tongue.

‘Tell Stick him to quiet the or plan die.’

Letting out a stream of air, which the proxy mimicked, I shook its head, and, keeping the same tone as before, had it reply, “You will all be marched to Celestia and have what smattering of justice that can be metered upon you, and know that one of the very few things keeping these,” the blades edged to their necks in unison, “in check, is my ignorance of how many crimes you have committed.” Moving the head to scan the crowd it added, “And as soon as any of you Legion of Doomers makes a poor move, the last vestiges of that protection will vanish,” it smiled, sandy features stretching to sickle-like proportions.

“Um, I hate to interrupt,” the Venom Spider-man giggled from the wall, “but that’s DC comics. You might want to use, if anything, that Mavel equivalent please.”

More giggles, this time from the small blond girl with ridiculous pig-tails and a blue dress. “He said Doomers,” she managed before laughter took her.

“So,” Jacob said, his gaze sweeping the long table, “anyone got a plan to get out of this?”

‘What?’

“I think you’re outnumber black… person. You’d be wise to leave at once.” The little red-head girl in the pink dress declared, though not without a glance to the blades orbiting her neck.

“Ben?” called one of the more human looking ones, save for her ruby-red eyes, and thankfully old enough to not squeak, “Think you can pull some political magic on this situation?”

“Why should I?” he asked, shrugging out of his green jacket enough to open one eye. “You and Raven,” he pointed his chin to the raven-haired blue-eyed girl beside her, “can take care of yourselves. I rightly don’t care about what happens to anyone else.”

“Ben!” she snarled, full length blond hair rising a few inches from her shoulders.

He sighed. “Fine. Annoying little…” He pushed off from the wall, if only just. “Hey, black sand dude! Wanna stop trying to kill everyone? Thanks,” and leaned back, closing his open eye once again.

“Anyone who gives a damn have an idea?” asked Jacob.

“I might,” Venom said, his plate now stuck to the wall by a rounded edge of his plate by black webbing. “Yo, guy who looks like he needs someone to talk to that will treat you normal being. Can we all talk like civil beings on this holiday since trying to scary, mean, and threatening will not get you what you want or help with anything.”

Fear had clearly begun to tie his tongue, but it wasn’t just that he was babbling, others were talking, and three had even started eating again.

Scanning the crowd, some were talking, rather animatedly amongst themselves, but I could feel their silken fear growing, if slowly, within them, but it wasn’t subjugation. They were planning something, but what?

Another face popped out of the side of my nightmare to float beside my nightmare to look at the Venom Spider-Man, gaining me another few degrees of fear over them as my nightmare stated, “My actions are wholly predicated on your choice to comply with them. So, it would be in yours and everyone’s best interest to stand up. We are leaving now.”

More mewlings. This was getting very old. Why weren’t they obeying? Why do villains always-

“Hiya! I’m Bubbles! Who are you? Can we be friends?” The girl in blue said cheerily… in front of my nightmare… and with a neck no longer ringed by-

My nightmare exploded before my eyes, and when the air cleared, Bubbles, the girl who couldn’t have been half my height, was still standing there, her head nestled into her left shoulder with a demented grin and her hand extended, as if to shake, where my nightmare’s head had been but seconds before while the remains of it piled on the chair.

Looking up I saw Jacob’s skin turn pale and his lips turn a startlingly vibrant shade of blue before the sand-blade ringing his neck were encased in ice and shattered upon the floor as a spotlight, an actual spotlight, was placed over the chair even as my sand continued to roll off the seat. And, with a wave of his hand, Jacob sent a thin slice of blue across the room, turning my remaining blades to ice, sapping my control of them, as if I needed one more reason to hate cold.

When the hell had everyone turned into The Flash? Why did everything have to be so hard? Why were they talking and not FEARING ME?!?

Pouring new sand into the chair, my nightmare quickly reformed, a bit less defined, but the lack of detail suited me.

‘Less to bother about getting in the way when you slice their bragging, spotlight throwing children and let them taste real fear.’

I stretched out from the chair, showing how little the spotlight did to stop ME, even as my nightmare’s own shadow eclipsed me. Placing its elbows upon the table it said, “I will not repeat myself,” sapping what little warmth there was from its voice with every syllable, even as I threw more sand into its growing frame.

“You know what? Fuck it,” Jacob said, a force-field blooming in front of my nightmare, who now stood at nearly half the height of the vaulted cavern ceiling. “I tried being nice. I tried to calm everyone down. I even considered going with you in place of them,” turning to his cronies he added, “Let’s just kick his ass.”

‘The cross-dimensional kidnapper is through being nice?!? Oh, well, in that case…’

Snapping my nightmare’s fingers, a new ring of knives bloomed across the shield-wall and around everyone’s necks, again. It felt god to see them flinch.

“You saw what I did to your meager tinker-toys last time,” my nightmare said. “Now please,” it said, turning for the exit, head now scraping the ceiling, “follow.”

Even as they screamed, muffled as it was through the shield, I watched as, again, as my blades were frozen, shattered, or simply disappear without my call in a blur even as lasers, magic, and tentacles lazily fell to their owners sides. And those same three were still eating: Ben, the ruby-eyed girl, and the raven haired one beside her.

Robots swarmed my vision, sphereing around MY nightmare before they began to fire. Again and again I reformed my creation, so much easier than dealing with someone else’s dream. “I will not allow you to spread,” it said, throwing its hand to the side, swatting the offending eyesores to the wall even as the force-field dissipated.

More lights were flashed on.

I just wanted them to be STILL! Stretching out my arm, my nightmares spread, as giant copies of my hand sprouted from the floor, but it didn’t matter, flashes of colored light were all I could see, even as more spotlights were cast towards me and my nightmares were shattered.

My shadow the only thing still standing in a room where a full half of the room, my half, was now nothing but particles of ash, ooze and broken nightmares. Jacob, his body now pale and ghostly translucent, turned to me and said, “Well Wayde,” he wasn’t even winded, “it appear that you lost this fight,” he sounded… bored. “I would like to get your facts straight about me, but I will also gladly send you back to your world if you decide to, provided that you deliver a small note to your Princess Celestia.”

What I had just saw… under two minutes… and, again, clarity, I realized, ‘I can’t take them alive.’

“Nn-”

“Before you say something aggressive,” Jacob interrupted, rolling his eyes, “I just want to tell you that I am the only one here that will offer a non-violent opportunity. I view each of them more powerful than me. Furthermore, I am also the only one here who is standing in between you, and a bunch of pissed off people. I suggest you choose your words carefully.”

“You don’t get it, do you,” I whispered through gritted teeth, my throat burning with the violent words that would only give him more perverse satisfaction. “I have to do what’s right,” I finally said, even as images of his eyes closing for the final time assaulted my thoughts.

“Based on the information that you were given, and your assumptions about me, you would be in the right in trying to turn me and anyone you see as an accomplice in. There is one problem with that. Some of the facts are wrong though. Yes, I did go to court, and yes, I was found guilty, that’s true, bu-"

‘Iknowthat.Whydoesn’thethinkIknowthat?!?’

“I’m not talking about that,” I shouted, recoiling at the sudden rise in pitch and shut my mouth with a snap. My eyes were burning, this wasn’t how things were supposed to be going. Taking a breath, trying to keep an even tone, I said, “I’m talking about how you’ve threatened my life by stealing me from home, twice, and now, lying to me, still, wh-while, misshapen monsters,” looking to a changeling-infected Rarity thing, Venom, and the psychotic powerpuff rejects, “and known,” I growled, “murders,” I pointed to Chrysalis, “and you expect me to do nothing while th-thEY feast before battle??”

“Hold on.” Jacob frowned, “I didn’t know about murder, but the monster attack was a low blow. And as for kidnapping you,” Jacob snapped his fingers, another panel on the floor sliding away to show a monitor screen.

I bit my tongue. ‘I swear, if…’

Blinking on, it showed Jacob, in full armor, sleeping on a couch, when a stream of golden-Goddamn-sand blew into existence above him before pouring onto his head. “I could use some company,” he mumbled, his words drawn out with sleep.

Pausing the security video, Jacob pointed to the glowing-sand sticking to his face-plate and said, plainly, “When a displaced, i.e. most of the people in this room, requires the assistance of another displaced,” he emphasized the word, “the displaced uses a token, for example,” he tapped his finger on the image, “golden sand, to summon said being by calling for help, or in this case company. In my sleepy state there was no way that I would have been able to notice that sand. I was just thinking aloud. This second attempt to summon you, however, was intentional,” and tapped the screen in a quick pattern. The picture changed to a table I vaguely thought I recognized from the kitchen where a palm-size red gear, circled by a number of equally small… knickknacks, the golden-sand included, then said, “but as you can see,” the video played, voicing a call for party goers, “there was an invitation that told you how to decline. Therefore, there is no way either incident could be considered kidnapping.”

In the silence that followed, I wanted to scream. Displacing, was ‘teleportation machine’ not good enough for him? He couldn’t possibly think I was so stupid that if I had either the ability to decline or had actually heard him that I would have-

"Yah low blow,” the Venom whined in with a grunt, “We’re not a monster, o.k.? Hybrid is an alien, but that’s different from a monster."

“I’ve committed murder,” the girl with ruby eyes shrugged.

“Same, and I am a monster,” Ben grinned

“Wartime murder doesn’t count, at least I think it doesn’t,” Raven frowned, briefly glaring at ruby-eyes.

“Not. Helping.” Jacob sang through clenched teeth.

“Well,” ruby-eyes said, suddenly sounding more mature, “it seems that our little shadow friend her can’t decline any form of Displaced summoning. The best thing to do would be to teach the poor connard how to reject those summons, or at least how to choose them so this kind of thing doesn’t keep happening time and time again.”

‘No, wait, I can’t, but she… faked footage? no, yes? nooo… but, murderers? War?’

There were too many, too many thoughts, I just wanted… did I even really know what I wanted, had I?

Looking at Jacob, I had to know one thing.

“So you summoned me unintentionally?”

“Yeah, what’s your point?” Jacob asked, knitting his brows.

“I left last time by you throwing me out by the same way I got here, which means you knew how I got here, but you didn’t tell me,” I deadpanned.

Jacob only chuckled. “So close to making me guilty, but so far. You want to know how I was able to, what was it, throw you away. Simple, I deduced that you were a displaced when I saw your sand five minutes before sending you back. Seeing as how I hadn’t spent any time around beaches as Jeff can back up,” he thumbed to the Venom, “I figured that if you had a token, then you had to be a displaced. And, because I was summoned by someone else a few days before then, I was able to stop you from murdering this world’s Celestia by sending you back. Look at anyone here and ask them if it is true if you don’t believe me.”

‘I was angry you -ow- idiot, I didn-’

“I’ve been traveling the Void for over fifteen years now, I can verify just about any kind of craziness,” Ruby-eyes said, raising her hands placatingly as she took a half-step forward, her left-foot hanging in the air. “Oooh,” she sighed, her foot coming down, “accidental token creation. I’ve seen this before, and it does not end well for anyone involved,” Kat sighed, shaking her head, “Sometimes I think Ben is right to keep himself away from this stuff.”

Ben grunted in affirmative. Ruby-eyes glared at him before throwing me a pitying gaze. “Look, Mr. Shadow,”

“Molan,” I growled.

“Mr. Molan,” she nodded, keeping an even tone, “I can assure you that no one here has ever posed any ill will upon you. It’s all a big misunderstanding. I know this can be,” she paused, glancing to the half of the room still standing, “difficult to understand, but that’s just how this multiverse stuff works. Anything can, and usually will, happen.”

“Here here,” Jacob chimed in, as though he thought he was helping.

Just barely keeping back a ‘shut up you little cockroach’, I look down at Ruby. ‘She’s the sanest sounding person in the room,’ I thought, staring at the floor, still high enough on the wall I could see them all, disgusted that someone you claimed to be a murderer should hold such a title.

I felt hot, even with the numbness of the deeper shadows stroking at my back, but I could feel my thoughts coming back to me. “So I’ve managed to make… something,” I sneered, “that allows me to tear across dimensions. And this doesn’t sound ridiculous because…?”

"Um since when did anything that is done in the multiverse ever obey the laws of physics?” Venom asked.

‘Why is the it talking?’

“I’m not saying that any laws are being broken,” I glared, “I am saying that it’s utterly ridiculous for that amount of directed power to occur without my express knowledge. Here, look,” I said, throwing a handful of nightmares out into the room towards the glowing orb of golden-sand Jacob had gotten out, for gloating or demonstration I was getting too old to care about it anymore, only for it to freeze on impact, ripped from my control, and flow into the floor like melting wax.

Ruby snapped her fingers, a fist-sized black gem shaped like a cut-diamond appearing above me. “Just touch it, and listen,” she said.

I almost reached out of my shadow, but froze, a sudden thought pulling up the burning coal feeling still pulling at my chest. “I ring your necks with dark-steel and you all fall to gibbering like children, the next moment you shatter them all, and now your counseling the person who is still a threat to you?” I paused, surely they thought I could make things smaller, harder to shatter. Why do this to me, I thought before adding, “this is madness.”

“Welcome to my life,” Ben quipped. “I may not have the ability to listen to them, but considering you’re gonna murder anything you see similar, you might, might, wanna at least humor them a bit. Just sayin’.”

“I am no murderer,” I said coldly, the room darkening as the heat in my chest almost went out.

“Oh for goodness sake.” Jacob complained, throwing the golden sand-orb at me, “this’s taking too damn long.”

The slow missile seemed to float gently through the air, almost gliding, but once it was within arm’s reach it gave a sudden blur of speed, slamming into my chest. “Jesus Christ,” I screamed as the hellish thing sent clouds of wall dusting away as it burrowed in. I could feel my chest burn, really burn as it felt like the orb was trying to pull me from the shadows or dive into it. Seconds later I heard someone yelling ‘no, no, no’ and it wasn’t until the orb was shut away in a small box, by Jacob no less, that I realized it was me.

“Sorry about this,” he smiled, raising his shoulders, “I thought that it would be a lot more calm around you, seeing as how it never tries to harm anyone that touches it.”

“Keep that wretched-sand off of me,” I shuddered, glaring at the Incredible Iron Bumbler.

“That’s all you seem to be,” Ben smirked.

“Are we done talking to the thing that isn’t there yet?” Raven sighed.

Thoughts, real thoughts were finally coming back to me, and, with a final look at the crowd, I looked to Ruby and said, “Look, y’all are admitted murderers,” placing my hands behind my back I started to bring up my sand, small as I could in an unseen cloud, “I cah-” I winced, the pain in the back of my mind spiked before settling, “can’t let you walk away after hearing that.”

“Walk?” Ben and Kat both asked at the same time.

“I’m already serving out my sentencing,” Ruby smirked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Celestia pardoned me,” Ben added boredly.

“What?” I squinted. Had I heard that right?

“Serving. As in it’s still going on,” Ruby corrected. “My punishment was exile from the entire planet. Self-imposed, mind you, but still valid. And of course I’ve had to go out and kill quite a few things in the Void. Dalek’s don’t kill themselves, you know.” She sounded quite proud.

“If Dalek killing counts as murder, then I guess that I did some killing as well,” Jacob said, scratching the back of his head.

‘What have I done?’ I thought with what felt like a brick of burning-cold ice wrapping around my mind.

“You pelicans don’t know the difference between murder and killing,” I said, mouth gaping, hands falling to my sides.

“Seriously,” Jacob deadpanned, “you’re using that as an attack?”

“No,” I replied in kind, too tired to figure out what exactly he had meant, “I, what I’ve almost done.”

“Well, I’ve actually never killed anyone in my life. It was the other dudes who live up here,” Ben tapped his noggin’, “who did all the murderin’ and stuff. I’m a borderline pacifist.”

“And a no good politician,” Raven snarked.

“There’s no such thing as a good politician,” Ruby smirked.

“True.” Jacob chimed in.

“I’m a bad person,” I mumbled, sliding down the wall to the stairs. I needed to get their eyes off of me, stop embarrassing myself, and get my head back togeth-

“Join the club!” Ben jeered after me before he gave a winded grunt.

The sound of rockets followed after me, as someone, J.A.R.V.I.S., in a gleaming, pony-shaped chassis, shouted, “Wait.”

Despite myself, I paused, still angry, though that was beginning to dull into the coal in my chest, but confused.

“Why do you consider yourself a bad person?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, if a bit too sweetly, almost as if he were talking to a child.

“Due to my incompetence I’ve acted under misinterpreted pretenses and attempted murder. Punishment is required,” I answered imperially.

Tilting his chin up, J.A.R.V.I.S. said, “I’ll not insult your intelligence by bulleting the number of instances where Jacob and the others, yourself included,” I flinched, “have fallen short. Instead, I want to tell you that people have ways of dealing with the lives they had to end. From the beasts in the Everfree, to the vile egomaniac with too much time and power in their hands. No man wants to kill without a just reason. And when they they do finally act, it is not without some consequence to themselves.

“Were you to surface, I could easily blow your head to pieces with any of the number of missiles stored within me or disintegrate you entirely with my optic-lasers, but as of now such a course of action would be that of evil for a lack of just motivation.

“You had thought that the guests and host were maniacs whose ringleader kidnaps people that he never met before... though not without some manner of justifiable reason, and certainly your interactions with the royalty of this land hadn’t helped matters either. And certainly your actions were quite violent, but you should keep in mind that rather than attempt to slaughter them like so much cattle, you decided to treat them as people and gave them the opportunity to be treated under what falls under the court of law in these parts despite the vile acts you thought they had committed. And I hold no uncertainty that there is more than one in there who would not have held to such standards had they been in your position. I may just be an AI, but I am trying to help you.”

Stopping his flight, he landed on the floor, just before the steps. He, or, it, sounded weird, but something about that spiel had rang true, but all of that pleasantness fell away as the robot began to… play, just, the worst, sappy piano tune from his horn, no doubt chosen to enhance the calculated mood and/or sympathy, and all too heavily-handedly reminding me why I always felt like I was stuck looking at this world sideways.

“Cute,” I grunted, “but my ignorance doesn’t mean I am excluded from punishment.”

“Last time I checked, us ‘murderers’ are serving or have served punishment, though, I have not.” Jacob smirked, stepping from behind J.A.R.V.I.S. and sipping a steaming Christmas-mug. “So, how about I do what I set out to do, and make amends.” Placing a small box beside me, his steps betraying his inebriance, he said, “Inside that box, is your token. When I eventually send you back, I want you to give this to your Celestia, and explain what it means.”

“What what means?” I sighed, exhausted and cold with spent anger. Stopping to turn around, head lolling, I asked, “and why are you trying to act so, so, kind to me?”

“Because you’re not alone,” Ruby said in a somber tone. “Everyone, every single one of us here has made mistakes. Mistakes that have cost lives. Often times even the lives of those we’ve cared for. That’s why Jacob has gathered us on this day, the ponies’ celebration of togetherness, to show that no matter what we go through, no matter what may come our way, there are others out there that are going through just as much. And we don’t have to do it alone. Things may have started rocky between us all, but what say we simply start over and try again? This is not a time for this, not now anyway.”

“Couldn’t have ssaid it better myself Kat.” Jacob grinned, lifting his drink in a toasting gesture.

Alone. That was a good word for it. Weeks I had waited, hoping for some miracle to whisk me back home, just sitting in my allotted room when I wasn’t being told to do laps or take a ball to the face. It was just so, I felt like there was always something just, weighing down my chest. It just, putting it on the shelf for a later day only worked for so long. It really was beginning to hurt, the fear, always the fear, from everyone, every moment of every waking hour I was around them, anyone. Then there were these… people, a mad inventor who played with the laws of physics like putty when he wasn’t showboating in a world which I had no Earthly idea of how it was still standing, anime-eyed little girls, comic-book characters, and now a jewel-eyed blond lady who was trying to talk to the madman in the shadows.

Taking in a long, slow breath, I held it. I felt… better, somewhere in all the murk clouding my head, my God damned heart, something, my vision, felt clearer than it had in such a long time. Sliding up from the floor and to the wall, and, expelling the cooling stream of air, I took a single step forward, my knees wobbling as gravity reaffirmed itself.

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you all,” I said quietly, tensing as I waited for, likely, the end.

“I do not know of the others, but for me, it is water under the bridge.” Jacob said before giving a small bow, his drink finished. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I got a party to reboot,” he said, turning on his heel as J.A.R.V.I.S. rushed to keep up with him, clouds of robots already swarming in the ceiling and carrying replacement tables and the like.

Ruby just gave a small smile, then turned back to her own, leaving me to watch as she and everyone else went back on to what I could only guess were ‘normal’ conversations and other assorted ‘party activities’.

Not three minutes later, the only signs of the damage from before was a hole in the wall where the golden sand had tried to eat my chest and a few emptied food trays, the latter of which was already being replaced by trays of fresh holiday sweets.

I watched as a punk-rocker haired man flanked by both Chrysalis and the Rarity/changeling hybrid left in a flash of green, courtesy of Jacob. He even tried to get me off the wall I was pressing my back to, but declined as politely as I could. Thankfully, he relented.

Still keeping an eye on as many of the others as I could manage, once the dull roar of the room’s conversation swelled, I made my move. Walking towards the center of the room, painfully aware of how obtrusive a grey-skinned, black-robed figure was under the room’s festivities, I kept my eyes on target and did my best to ignore the hushes here and there from some of the flyers and wall-crawlers who had taken to the ceiling above me. Still, my eyes drifted to the mop-hair Ben and the black haired Raven, and was greeted by their twin, death-beam stares.

“Excuse me,” I said in what he hoped was a sufficiently polite, if quiet, tone as I tapped ruby-eyes shoulder, Cat, I think I’d just heard Ben call her. Was it short for Catherine?

“Hmm?” she asked, turning around, her hair fanning over her short, black jacket. “Oh! Hey there shadow man! What’s up?” she cheered, briefly showing off a smile so big she had to close her eyes.

“Um, yes,” I replied, his eyebrows bunching, glancing back to see the unchanged glares from before, “would,” I sighed, almost losing my train of thought for all the answers I wanted, “what, exactly, did you mean when you said displaced?”

She blinked. “You don’t know? I would have figured someone would have already given you the typical run down over this stuff by now.”

“Yes, well,” I hummed, briefly glaring at the shooting form of Iron Man as he moved to another crowd of shrinking guests like the social butterfly he thought he was, “my only experience has been with this other Equestria, and the deception and all around scatter-brained hijinks the world has, “ I paused, searching for the right word, “shown me, there was little enough time to sit and have a worthwhile conversation with someone like him,” motioning with my chin to Jacob. “And, with how much it hurts to lose belief so suddenly, I was a bit preoccupied,” I smiled, trying to stay pleasant.

“Oh,” was all she could say. “Well, I suppose I could give you a quick experience. Walk with me.” She gestured to one of the side hallways, starting to walk in said direction.

“I’d hate to overly intrude,” I quickly replied, noting the glares of Raven and Ben intensifying.

“Don’t mind them,” she waved off. “They’re just a little protective of me.”

“Okay,” I replied quickly, stepping aside to follow Cat.

“So,” she said after we rounded the first corner and were out of general eyesight. “Why don’t you start off by telling me what you do know? See how much I need to build here.”

After a few false starts, tapping at the sides of my legs, “I, I think it’s something like multiverse theory, but rather than our Earth, I, and now, by the sound of it, many others have been stolen from their lives and thrust into Equestrias without so much as a chance to say goodbye.”

She nodded. “That’s the start of everything. Displaced are those beings, and are usually very old beings by the time they discover the Void and the connections between worlds. We were chosen as play things by certain Void beings to become accustomed to new bodies and powers on very strange and exotic worlds.”

“Playthi-,” I sputtered, a flash of anger briefly sparking the air beginning to darken before it vanished under my exhausted emotions. “Powers?” I asked, trying to put myself back on track.

“None of us were born with the abilities you’ve seen,” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t always manipulate gravity. Thirteen hundred years ago, I was a simple orphaned girl just trying to get by. Now? Now I fight for others on a multiuniversal scale with one of the four powers of creation bending to my whim.”

I couldn’t decide how she looked to me when she said that. She was certainly quite pretty, her skinny black jeans curved along her well enough indeed, but to be that old, and she look closer to twenty-something than anything.

“Very well,” I deferred, putting my focus into the answer I needed, “So, is everyone here some sort of guardian then?”

“No, everyone must choose their own path in life. Some become heroes, others turn into villains. I like to believe that most choose to just live their life in peace, but the world is turned against them. Take my brother, Ben, for example. He’s just trying to live in peace, but his powers are what make the ponies constantly call on him for help. He won’t turn them down, but I know he’d much rather just be sleeping on the couch all day.”

“Okay,” I nodded, “but what about what Jacob called tokens, and how he seemed surprised that the golden-sand he threw at me tried to bury into my chest?”

“I’m not too sure about the sand thing, but tokens are a rather simple concept. They’re… calling cards, if you will. A symbol of a Displaced, created by said Displaced, and distributed into the Void. While it is the beings of the Void that toy with our lives, the Void itself seems bent on helping us survive, allowing for easy, almost instant travel between worlds, and for tokens to be sent wherever we may call upon or be called upon for help. In a nutshell, tokens are our way of sticking together.”

“It hardly seems like any sort of help to steal someone away without their permission to a whole other world,” I frowned, despite the sudden spark that was just beginning to glow just behind my thoughts.

“It may seem that way, but that’s actually closer to your fault,” she said, poking my chest. “If you’re being dragged away without choice every time you’re summoned, it means you’re too weak to say ‘no’.”

I blinked away the sand that started to flicker at the outer-lids of my eyes, this was no time for false-pride. “Weak... how?”

“You don’t have the power, or energy, required to cancel a summoning or to look deeper into who is summoning you. You haven’t trained yourself to recognize certain energies and negate them.”

“Okay, and how’s that done?” I asked, still calm but groping for hope.

She shook her head. “It’s not something I can teach. Everyone has different powers and abilities that allow for such negation. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with your powers to help you do as such. The most I can recommend is to start reaching out into the Void itself and familiarize yourself with its unique energy. If you can recognize it, then you can start to focus on how to negate it.”

“And how is that done?”

“I just told you, I can’t teach you something like that. You have to figure it out on your own. I’ve never helped anyone with such a problem and everyone’s powers work in different ways. I can only tell you what I do know.”

“Understood,” I replied, chewing my lip, though not quite understanding, aside from asking about something that was useless to ask about.

She nodded. “It’s no trouble. As I said, my job is too help.”

I shook my head, what she was doing was obviously more than just some bullet-pointed list of actions she was required to do. “You are far kinder than you give yourself credit for. Thank you,” I said, gazing into her eyes.

“Aw shucks, aren’t you sweet? I suppose Fluttershy rubbed off on me while I was home all those years ago.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, a little off-put by the return compliment.

“Well, I’m just glad I could help you out, even if it was only a little.”

“I don’t suppose,” I said, beginning to straighten up from my usual vulture-like hunch, not wanting the first pleasant encounter with a human in nearly two-months to end, “I might continue to talk with you while we’re all still here?”

“Sure! I’d love to get to know my newest friend!” she cheered.

‘Friend?’ I thought, eyes going wide, but managing to nod as the first hints of a smile began crease the sides of my mouth.

Stepping back into the dining hall, I moved in line with Kat and asked, “I’m a bit thirsty, would you like some punch too?”

“I wouldn’t mind a glass Cat shrugged. “Oh, and don’t mind Raven and Ben’s glares earlier. They’re not as … accepting as I am.”

“I can’t say I blame them,” I frowned, chewing the inside of my cheek. Flicking my hand forward, rather than merely sending out an unshaped cloud of sand, I gently shaped twin jellyfish which swayed through the crowds before enveloping two glasses of punch in their spindly tentacles, floating back with ease. ‘Theatrics,’ I thought with a pleased little grin. Grabbing my glass, I sent the nightmare to vanish as the other hovered just in front of Cat, and vanishing once she took the proffered cup. The smile vanished, my original thought resurfacing, and said, “after what I’ve done, what I was about to do, I really can’t see how you’ve brought yourself to do this to me.”

Cat only giggled. “Oh Wayde, if I let things just lie then I wouldn’t be me. You seemed more in pain than one willing to cause pain. So I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. But, just don’t take Raven and Ben too personally. They don’t like any Displaced really.” Taking a quick sip, “Ah, refreshing, anyway, Raven isn’t really willing to get too involved with all this stuff due to the war, and Ben is… well, Ben just doesn’t like people in general.”

War?” I asked bit quieter, glancing over to Raven and back to Kat.

Cat nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I’d rather not talk about it. It’s a… touchy subject with us.”

I nodded, finally taking a sip of my drink, disappointed that it was nowhere as good as my grandmother’s recipe. “So, this, party, really was meant to try and help people then wasn’t it,” he said as his eyes dropped to the floor.

“Mhmm. A way to let your hair down, so to speak. Just a chance for everyone to stop worrying about their hectic lives and have a little fun in peace. Though I bet that’s why Ben is complaining. Lazy brother of mine never does anything unless he’s forced too.”

I nodded, my gaze still on the floor, but drifting over to Cat’s feet, “I think,” I paused, reminding myself to be polite and make eye contact with her and not the floor, “if you ever came across my token, I don’t think I would mind if you ever felt like I could help you,” and took another sip of my drink to cover my embarrassment.

A small sky-blue screen with a face popped up next to Kat and had, “Just kiss already!” blinking in block-lettering on it. The face was snickering before, much to my pleasure, an annoyed looking Jacob started to chase after it with a clearly oversized hammer as the sign melted and molded into a wheel before rolling away.

Cat groaned. “I really wish people would stop shipping me with other people. I’m quite happy in my standing.” Then she noticed my blush and her face fell. “Oh no, please don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on me now too.”

I blinked, blush disappearing as propriety took the driver’s seat, though not without just a bit of regret, and plainly stated, “No. We’ve just met,” eyeing her from the tips of her feet to the crown of her head, “and while it’s not every day that I speak to someone as pretty as you, I don’t know you well enough about you than to try and be a friend to you.”

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she sighed, “Hoo, you had me worried there for a moment. I do not need anyone else falling for me. I’m just not interested in any other guys. And I’m glad you think I would make a good friend, since I already consider you my friend.”

“Thank you?” I smiled, pretty sure I had out on top, friends, actual friends, not people who just used the word, were exceedingly valuable. “But, if you’ll excuse me,” I nodded, wanting to try and go out on as high a note as I could manage, “I think I’ll take my leave.”

Jacob then appeared behind me, and stiffening, because he must have used a teleporter because his fear wasn’t anywhere near me until that moment, I turned to see Jacob holding out a small white box with a large lock and a key scotch-taped to the top nestled in his outstretched palm. “Given what has happened recently,” he said as I took a half-step back, wanting a bit more personal space than three inches, “and given that it all happened in my universe on both occasions, I want you to have this.

“It’s your token.

“If you want it, you may deliver it to either a pocket dimension, or someone you trust not to use it. If you don’t want it, then I’ll keep it. Both ways will guarantee that you will get home though so you don’t have to worry about that. I can understand if you were to chose the latter, given how I normally wouldn’t want anything to do with my accidental kidnapper. And if it’s any consolation, I bid you safe travels and a prosperous life.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, gingerly grabbing the box between my thumb and forefinger as quick and polite as I could manage, “and,” I swallowed, still a little mad, all things considered, “I apologies for my misguided actions too. But, I think I can trust this to my new,” I paused, seeing a golden opportunity, turning to Kat, “friend,” and held out the sealed box to her.

Kat smiled, taking the box and holding it gently in her free hand. “Thank you for your trust, Wayde.” Reaching out beside herself, the air rippled as she pulled a book from nowhere. Opening it, she put the box on one of the blank pages where it then sank into it before she slammed the book shut. “I’ll keep it safe.”

“I’m sure you will, and please use it as you see fit,” I smiled, and all the wider with Jacob next to us.

“Welp,” Jacob then belted out, “time for this crazy old fool to send you off. Wayde, our contract is complete.”

“Umm,” I said when nothing happened.

Jacob gave an exaggerated sigh. “I just want a decent send off! It that too much to ask! Alright, alright, fine. Kat?”

“Hmm… it must be a connection to the token and not necessarily the summoner himself with Wayde. How very strange, but then again, every Displaced is different. But before you go Wayde,” she pressed the black gem from before into my hand. “Don’t be afraid to call me if you need anything. Whether it’s to fight or just to talk, I’ll be there. You take care of yourself, alright?”

“Ok,” Wayde said quietly before pocketing the gleaming palm-sized gem.

”And be sure to call me with that gear I left with you as well if you need me for either help, or just to get revenge on me.” Jacob said.

“What? Revenge?” I asked, annoyed. He vastly overestimated his importance to me if he thought I wanted to so much as think about him again.

“Don’t mind him,” Kat waved off. “He’s just being a weirdo. Ready to go home?”

“Yes, please,” I replied.

“Then, Wayde, our contract has been completed. See you around~!” she said with a little wink.

“See you around,” I smiled.

‘She seems nice,’ I thought, smiling even as a ring of golden-sand sprung up behind me, sucking me back into the void.

(14)

Touching down, golden-sand itching at the corners of my eyes, I began to stumble, my stride shortening as I hobbled from foot to foot, struggling for balance. I’d only manage to hit up twenty-three prisons back there before I… but if this was how I felt now that I was back, then I was getting dangerously low on belief. I neede-… well, maybe things weren’t so bad. My clothes kept pace with me, kinda, my hands no longer reached the end of the sleeve and the shoulders were now almost comically baggy, but everything below the waist was still snug, and I didn’t have to worry about loose boots digging blisters into the back of my heel either.

Clothes, however, could wait. I needed to report my return, but, it would probably be better if I stopped to catch my breath. I’d only been gone on the other side for an hour or two tops, so I couldn’t imagine I’d been gone for too long back here.

Looking around, now that I was feeling a little less light-headed, I was definitely still in Canterlot Castle, but I didn’t recognize the room. It was big, like football stadium big. Ball room? It was nearly dawn actually, if the view from the walls of glass looking over a tiered veranda and gardens beneath were anythi-

Stiffening, I felt it, the siren call. That it pushed away the remainders of my mind-ache with a pleasing wash of excitement was all I could focus on even as I drifted with the push just behind my eyes. Sighing, falling to shadow, I slipped easily into the deep-dark beneath the nearest dust-covered table.

‘God, where’s it com-’ I paused, floating in the dark, lights twinkling in the distance. The knot of fear had just… vanished. ‘Oh God,’ I thought, all too aware of the senseless dark around me, any thoughts of pleasure wilting into guilt as I remembered the last two times this had happened, ‘they died.’

But then, the fear bloomed, again, stronger than before, and so close.

Popping out from the deeps I lunged for the fear, but a bright flash of violet light blinded me, leaving me to grasp at the empty as my lower half sank back to the numbing shadows. I was too late, they was gone. Another death.

Fists clenched, still blinking away the lights in my eyes, I staggered my way out of the shadows, slamming my hands onto the nearby wall and recoiled, pressing the sides of my hands into my stomach. I thought my eyes were still playing tricks on me, but when the deep blue and purple sparkles persisted, I was certain I’d just cut my hands on the crystal tree-house Twilight had won from her fight with Tirek. I was in Ponyville.

Again the fear bloomed, stealing away my thoughts. This was the third time, but, so close, I was certain that whoever it was, it was the same person. ‘There’s still a chance,’ I thought, throwing myself to the shadows, the landscape blurring as I rocketed across the rooves and alleyways only to see that searing violet-light, a gash in the air above the street at the edge of town. Skidding out from a wall, my nightmares billowed beneath me, thrusting me towards the light. I was so close, but a violent gust of wind burst out of the gash, knocking my sand out from beneath me. I landed heavily on my side, stunned, and watched the lights disappear, seemingly stitched shut with a glowing blue-thread.

Coughing, I elbowed myself up, eyes adjusting to the gloom of the early morning, dew from the grass chilling my arms and legs as I stood up. Enough was enough.

Wrapping a ring of sand around my waist, I catapulted into the air, nightmares winging beside me to keep me airborne, stopping as near to the center of town as I could figure. And, I waited. Standing on a small disc of my sand, slowly rotating, I watched, waited for another sign. There had to be another one.

There was.

Even as the pinprick of pinkish light gleamed in the air above the empty street, almost directly below me, I was descending, almost falling but for the disc of sand. It was bigger now than before, nearly twice as long as I was myself. And the fear, it was so tantalizingly close, just beyond the blinding light, more potent than ever before, but it was still the same tantalizing light, only brighter.

Not even waiting to think, I thrust my arm in, hoping that whoever it was, I would pull them out. Something cold, the fear holder, immediately wrapped around my hand and started pulling at my forearm. I heaved, not wanting to find out if the gash would take my arm with it if it collapsed. Digging my heels into the sand, I fell backwards, the sand extending even as I blindly continued to heave at the weight. Then, the crashing sound of shattering glass erupted around us. I saw white even with my eyes shuttered closed, the nightmares cocooning over us from any shards of whatever this was.

When the noise settled down, I slowly lowered us to the ground, blinking away the spots in my eyes. Nothing felt torn, there was only the cool night air until a tower of blue energy towered out somewhere near Twilight’s new… oh who am I kidding, there was no chance that it was coming anywhere but directly from her house, and blazed like the light of day. The resulting force of it threw me from my feet and dust flying into my eyes.

“NNNoooOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

‘Oh dear,’ I sighed.

Cupping my hands over my ears, giving up on seeing for the next could of minutes, I gave a jolt as I felt something cold and clammy push into my right ear like wet putty.

“Eeww-” I started.

“Wayde, what have you done?”

I frowned, I thought I recognized the voice, it sounded like Luna, but it also sounded like she was speaking out of a voice modifier, each echo coming back deeper than her original voice.

“Huh?” I said, spots both new and old still in my eyes, and the crackling blue lights streaming out of the princess’s eyes and horn not helping. My shins were starting to hurt, not that it should have been important, but I was still pretty burnt out over what had become of my night, so I wasn’t feeling very… scared. Looking down, I saw the thing that I thought was a tail, or maybe even some sort of tentacle, was actually pulsing plum-colored blob speckled with starlight, still wrapped around my hand, while the rest was scraping at my legs, and still another part was clawing at the dirt, trying to move away from the two of us.

Looking back up, Luna, now panting, looked comically tired. Black bags hung under her eyes, made even starker by the lights still coming out from above them, her star-y mane flowed in conflicting directions, tumbling and knotting into each other, and her flared wings showed more than a few feathers that looked like they were just about to fall out.

“Please, you must let me destroy the tantabus before it turns all of Equestria into a living nightmare.” Luna said, even as the sound of hooves began to echo through the empty street.

“Whu-”

“Princess Luna!” the shrill cry interrupted, revealing Twilight Sparkle as she rounded the edge of the street, half a block away, closely tailed by her fellow Elements of Harmony.

“Who the hay is this weirdo,” Rainbow Dash glared at me, stopping just short of crashing into Luna, as the rest of her friends came to a stop, coughing as the dust-trail of Dash’s wake caught up with them.

“This is Wayde,” Princess Luna stated loudly, her gaze unmoving, “he is the one you were sent to look for in Saddle Arabia.”

“Yyyy-aahh” Dash yawned, “you mean the jerk who caused all those nightmares is now teamed up with another nightmare? Great,” she deadpanned.

‘Nightmare?’ I thought, ignoring Dash’s glare to look back down. ‘It feels, well, I guess I can feel it, but does that mean?’

“So this,” I asked, raising my arm, still wrapped in… ‘tantabulous?’, “is some sort dream?”

“It is,” Luna stated gravely, “now please, before it hurts anypony eh-… el-”

Her words failed her, not that I blame her. I couldn’t quite believe I was eating the thing myself, but it felt so… natural.

‘Ambrosia,’ I thought, losing myself to the singular focus of eating more. Inhaling really, even by my standards, and I could only silently thanked God for the divine inspiration I'd been given in between sighs of pleasure. I couldn’t believe anything could taste so good, so sweet, that it could make the edges of your vision go black.

“Hoooooo boyy,” I sighed, my hands now free, feeling a little twitchy, and smiled, “got any more?”

***

Sitting at, surprisingly, a wooden dining table, I did my best not to gag on the overpowering stench of coffee as the “Mane Six” and Princess Luna continued to drink their sixth and seventh cups of coffee, save Ms. Pie, who had been given a mug of hot cocoa and a stern warning not to drink from anypony else’s mug but her own. It was several minutes before anyone was properly able to speak without yawning, giving me plenty of time to look around, not that there was much to see. The whole room was pretty sparse outside of the padded chairs and decorative edging on the table. There were no banners in the room, or even a chandelier hanging in the shadows of the high ceiling. It was all just random clumps of nearly sheer crystals, all different shades of pastel blue, pink, and purple and a few crystal facsimile torches that glowed white at the tips.

But architecture never really got me going, the best of it back on Earth only ever managed to get an intrigued ‘hmm’ before my focus returned to who I was there for, or, as was normally the case, I moved on to the next picture on imgur and completely forgot about it in the seconds that followed. The ponies sitting on the other side of the table were another matter. It just felt too… personal, the way the knowledge of their fears flowed into me, but that didn’t stop me from observing them.

Rainbow Dash, her frazzled prismic-mane looking more like a lop-sided Mohawk, was busy giving me a stern look, but her lidded gaze continued to betray her, and each time she started to nod off she’d take another sip of her coffee out of the side of her mouth so she wouldn’t lose sight of me.

Fluttershy, still hiding beneath and stroking her long, flowing pink hair, looked closer to the other side of half-asleep, especially from the way she kept on swaying, and always away from the morning sunlight streaming in from the window above.

Rarity, who had only stopped fussing with her hair to take dainty sips from her tea-cup, something even Princess Luna had forgone for a full on mug, gave the occasional nudge to Fluttershy, and continued making a point to look like she wasn’t starring at my clothes. But for the life of me I couldn’t see why. It looked perfect, as far as over-stylized hair went. If anything, she should have been trying to smooth the scuffed looking patch of hair just along the left side of her chest’s profile, whatever it was called.

Twilight, however, had been keeping busy, and was proving to be quite the artist if the sketches of me she managed to squeeze in-between the walls of text she was slowly, but determinedly writing was any indication.

Applejack, sitting at the other end of the seven, just chugged her coffee and continued to stare at me. With how tired everyone looked, herself included, her focus was a little unnerving.

And then there was Pinkamena Diane Pie. Sitting between Twilight and Applejack, she actually managed to surprise me in having a mane that seemed even more curly than what I had seen on the show. Someone who stuck their hand in there was liable to never see it again by the looks of it. And she just sat there, wearing a small smile, compared to what I had expected. Her, now, twelfth mug of cocoa was long finished, but what drew her so fully into my attention was, unlike the others, her fear. While certainly it was… educating to learn how much she really did fear loneliness, it was how it reached me that made it so special. It was almost like hearing someone over an old radio, the words were plain as day, but there was a low hush, a static that blurred them as they reached out to me. In fact, I’d let myself stare for so long that I almost fell from my seat when Princess Luna calmly asked, “Wayde, do you understand what you have done this night?”

Straightening back up to a snort from Ms. Dash and a giggle from Ms. Pie, not sure what else to say, I licked my lips and said, “I ate, a dream?”

“True,” Princess Luna said, “but,” she paused, taking a breath, “that was not just any dream. It was the tantabus, something I was using to punish myself for my crimes as Nightmare Moon. It escaped me, infesting the dreams of the Elements of Harmony and then the whole of Ponyville, growing in strength from their collective fears. From this surge in power it then attempted to escape into the waking world, and no doubt these disturbances are what so caught your attention.”

I nodded.

“Yes, well,” Luna frowned, looking into her empty mug, “in truth, the tantabus was rightly about to escape on its own before you pulled it through. And, with that said," she paused, taking a breath, regaining a more regal posture, "I wanted to make sure you heard me say, thank you. You have saved many lives this morning Wayde Molan. Now, if you will excuse me,” she grunted softly, rising to her feet, “my nightly duties have left me quite drained and I mm-,” she yawned into her wing, a teal light beginning to glow up her horn, “-uust make for bed. I leave you in the Elements’ capable hooves,” and teleported from the room.

‘What just happened?’ I thought, staring wide-eyed at the empty space where Luna had been standing, hadn’t she just implied how close to dooming her country I’d come, then, more importantly, ‘Why did she do that?’

Blinking, hard, I did my best to push the ripples of thought back before they started devolving. Looking over to The Elements, they seemed to be stuck in a sort of daze too. ‘First impressions, and say something smart,’ I thought, straightening my posture before politely grunting to get their attention.

“Hello,” I said, nodding toward Twilight, “my name is Wayde Molan.”

“o-Oh, yes, hello Wayde, I, am Twilight Sparkle,” the violet alicorn of magic smiled, “and these are my friends, Rainbow Dash, you’ve already met Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and last, and certainly not least, Applejack.”

The noncommittal, grunts, Charmed, and Howdy’s however, were lost by the sudden, piercing gasp of Pinkamena, her pupils dilating, reflecting the stars from the stained glass perfectly, “Do you know what this means?” she beamed.

“Ah’m just gunna save us a lotta time and say: no we don’t Pinkie, but if y’ah care to tell us we will,” Applejack smirked, shaking her head.

‘It meanssss SLUMBER PARTY!” Pinkamena cheered, leaping into the air, clapping her hooves as confetti shook from her mane.

“Aaannhhhn,” Rarity yawned, “oh, excuse me. And how exactly is that dear?”

“Weeeeellll,” Pinkamena grinned, “for one, we’re all sss-ooo-per tired from all that dream-warrior business,” she said, stretching out the bags under her eyes, “Princess Luna left Wayde over here in our capable hooves,” pointing over in my direction, “And what better way to introduce our new friend to Ponyville than with a party? I mean heck, he’s already wearing a robe, amiright?”

I didn’t know what exactly I was supposed to say as she rounded on me, but when no one said anything either, Pinkie, much to her, and my own, surprise, looked around to the others and found them fast asleep.

Shrugging, she grinned, and, walking across the table whisper-yelled, “We’ll give them a couple hours, come on,” she motioned with her head to the left, her main curl pointedly following suit, “we can get the supplies for your party while they snooze.”

“Actually,” I whispered, causing Pinkamena to stop, mid-bounce, in the air. So she really can do those sorts of things. “I have a bit of thinking to do, and really,” I said, already sinking to shadows in the floor, “you don’t need to put yourself to all that trouble.”

“Well,” she hopped after me, still whisper-yelling, “do you think you could think while you help me pick out snacks for the party? I’ll even let you borrow my Xtreme-walking-and-chewing-bubblegum-at-the-same-time helmet if you want.”

Years of living suggested it would be better to simply turn her down and get out of her and everyone else’s way, but. But. But Cat had said I was weak. And, she wasn’t sure how I was supposed to change that. And, I wasn’t going to change anything if I made the decision to go off and do things like I’ve let myself ever since, well, since before college if I was going to be honest with myself.

‘tokens… sent wherever we may call upon or be called upon for help. In a nutshell, tokens are our way of sticking together.’ Cat had said. But Help? There were people out there that needed my help? That seemed more than just farfetched, and yet, and yet I was in a living, breathing world I’d thought could only ever be a television show.

“Maybe I should,” I said, surfacing slowly. When Pinkamena started going back towards her chair I amended, “and no, the helmet won’t be necessary.”

“Alrighty then,” she cheered quietly, closing her eyes as she hopped her way out of the room and down the hall. And, once we had turned a sufficient number of corners, of which I thought should have left us about to come upon the dining room again but for the change of the crystal to a more pleasant shade of plum, she looked back to me and asked, “Say, what’s your favorite kind of cake?”

“Hmm,” I said, shaking my head from thoughts of mapping out the trek before her words could register, and shrugged, “oh, I don’t really like cake.”

"WHAT!?!"

Author's Notes:

I still think this is pretty fast, but what do you guys thinks?

(15)

Author's Notes:

Credit of Edit: Articuno

Watching the shifting crowd of, nearly, chest-high ponies, all I could manage to think about was just how far from home I was. Canterlot, full as it was with shimmering, golden spires and perfectly groomed ponies just didn’t faze me the way this place did. The high white marble walls, the elegant furniture, and sleek fixtures that no one gave so much as a thought because it was simply the norm, all of it was still… familiar, in a medieval sort of way. A place where the doors are all tall enough to walk through without stooping. A place where I could find sinks and chairs built up for someone with two legs, though that might have had something to do with being a hub for interspecies communication, even if such things had become rather quiet recently, though it was probably meant to double as a way to inspire awe at its grandness.

Even the desert, something I had never seen back on Earth but from pictures, was manageable. I already knew they existed, even if seeing it in person was just so much more. But here, now, in a crystal palace grown from magic, it was almost like stepping onto the moon.

Ms. Sparkle’s castle, something of an eyesore from the outside, was nothing short of breath-taking on the inside, once you found the right room. Much of the castle, as the Princess of Magic herself had personally shown me after everyone had gotten a few hours rest, was large, empty, and starkly bland, even with the shimmer of twining blue and purple crystal that merged through the walls and floors. And then, there was the library.

A simple set of deep-blue crystalline doors emblazoned with Ms. Sparkle’s cutie-mark opened up to a floor of cloudless crystal. I actually managed to mistake it for air until I caught the muted shine of light arcing through it to the piercing royal-blue sheets of crystal just some inches beneath it, and even then, the large snowflaking facets only served to highlight the glimmering snow-white inlay that shot through the blue that, angled as they were, wound all too naturally through and around the floor and shelving, glints of rainbow just kissing their edge. It was like looking into a fairy-tale, even without the talking unicorn, pegasi, and earth-ponies.

“Hey there Wayde,” Pinkamena smiled up at me, her bobbing pink curls blocking my view of the floor in my quiet corner of the library, “enjoying the party?”

I could have said no, wanted to say no. Sure, the ponies were certainly friendly enough, Pinkamena having introduced some of her friends to me a few times, during which I was forced to pull up some shadows before word got out that I really was there, gaining me a couple inches in belief in the process. They just weren’t going out of their way to talk to me afterwards; it was not a big deal. I certainly hadn’t gone to any trouble to remember their names myself, I was still going to go home after all, so it wouldn’t matter. So yeah, it wasn’t enjoyable, but it wasn’t un-enjoyable. All the same, I found myself smiling, and said, “Yes.”

“Great,” she beamed, grabbing my left hand between her forehooves, “Because I need your help with something?”

“Okay?” I said, blinking my way through the crowd of ponies we hurried through, “What for?”

“This,” she said with, what I assumed was, mock-seriousness as we broke through a ring of ponies to an open wall where the picture of an eyeless green earth-pony wearing a grey business-jacket looked past his question cutie-mark to where his tail should have been.

“Somepony needs to fix this picture,” she said, grunting back a chuckle as she kept her ‘serious’-tone, “here,” and held out a brown paper-tail on a small plastic-pin on an outstretched hoof.

Peering down my nose to the small, flimsy piece of paper, whatever misgivings I had suddenly felt... unimportant, though I couldn’t place why. Pinching up the pin and paper between my thumb and forefinger, a small bubble of thought rose up in my mind: ‘This could be fun,’ it said.

“Ok,” I shrugged, feeling well enough now to at least entertain the thought, as Pinkamena motioned me down with a smile, placing a white blindfold over my eyes, and spun me around on my heels a few times for good measure.

My first thought was just how well the blindfold was working, it was firmly in place, but I could still feel it moving just under my eyes, where at least a few specs of light should have reached me as I weaved across the open floor, arms outstretched, until I felt the poster and the wall behind it. ‘Enchanted, I suppose,’ I thought a bit ruefully, running my fingers over the edges to get a good feel for the size, trying to remember the exact shape of the drawing in front of me while a second thought wordlessly took shape. “Heh,” I grinned to myself, pinning the ‘tail’ to the picture before raising both of my hands to the blindfold. “Yes,” I whispered before turning aside to show off the green pony’s new mustache, much the audience’s chuckling-amusement, Pinkamena’s snort of laughter, and my own swelling sense of comedic-pride.

“Hee hee, Okay Shoeshine,” Pinkamena grinned as I handed the blindfold quickly back to her, holding out another paper tail to a pastel blue earth-pony mare with a curling, almost cloudishly so, grey mane, “your turn.”

Shoeshine had just taking the ‘tail’ and blindfold in turn, when I caught sight of another circle just off to the left in its own little corner. ‘Best not to disturb,’ I thought, looking at the scattered ponies between me and my new interest, and, looking back to see Pinkamena giggling at her job as pony-spinner, I slid down into shadow amidst a few gasps and pricks of sudden fear, flowing across the gentle sparkle of the floor’s crystal until I pulled up on the wall, stepping out to just outside the circle.

I didn’t quite believe it when I saw it. I mean, I’d heard about it, but I figured it was just some trumped-up movie cliché or something, but there it was, a small glass soda-bottle, spinning in the center of the small ring of seven ponies, of who Rainbow Dash seemed to have enthralled. And with a, well, I wasn’t quite sure how she managed to get the bottle to spin with the bottom of her foot, but she did, and much to everyone’s disappointment, it ended up pointing at open space halfway between a grey and a yellow stallion. One skinny white stallion with taped-glasses and a bit of acne poking through his fur pulled out a protractor and a ruler from his saddle-bags to measure whose turn it was, when Ms. Dash suddenly looked up to me, down to the bottle, then up to me again, a small grin sprouting on her face. But, as I attempted to take a polite step back, her smile only grew, and, gently pushing the nerd-pony back, raised an eyebrow and in a husky tone said, “You’re not afraid of a little truth or dare, are you?”

‘Chuckle and say no, then walk- No, say no Then chuckle as you walked away,’ I thought, even as I took a step forward, and, with a heat in my chest that surprised me, frowned, and stated quietly, “No.”

“Well?” she replied, sweeping a hoof in my direction.

‘Truth. Show her no fear. Show her you can part with any information and still hold the advantage,’ I thought, matching Dash’s smug little grin with a scathing smirk. “Dare.”

Everyone in the circle immediately ‘ooo’-ed at my quiet declaration, save Ms. Dash, whose only response was to flash a thin line of teeth under slitted eyes.

“Okay tough-guy,” she said, eyeing me up, “I dare you to,” she paused, putting a hoof to her chin. Then, as the idea finally came, her features melted into total concentration, on me, and said, “I dare you to Pinkie Promise you’re not out to hurt Equestria or my friends.”

The circle and several yards from it fell silent, their eyes all on me.

I hadn’t expected that, not from Rainbow Dash the impulsive, self aggrandizing hothead. Not from the slothful weathermare. But from the Element of Loyalty? From the pegasus who would charge a dragon, point blank, for raining ash, choking an entire town? Maybe I didn’t give her enough credit?

Inhaling silently through my nose, the mood going murky as the silence began to grow at the edges, I knew I couldn’t, shouldn’t act too familiar with them. Not until Princess Luna or Celestia had informed them, or gave me the okay to at least. So, keeping that firmly in mind, I asked, “And how is that done?”

Flapping up into the air, just enough to make sure none of the others blocked her from my line of sight, Dash said, “You say, I Pinkie Promise, make the promise, then say cross my heart,” crossing her heart with a hoof, “and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” and gently pressed a hoof into her eye before letting it fall onto the other, crossing them over her chest once she finished.

I nodded. Then, raising my right hand, extended my pinkie-finger, and said, “I Pinkie Promise, it is not now, nor will it ever be my intent to harm you, your friends, or Equestria. Cross my heart, and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” and gently palmed my right eyeball.

The crowd looked to Dash, who just flapped wings, face unmoving, and then, she nodded. “Alright, yer good for now,” she grinned, gently returning to the floor. “Uh, it’s your turn,” she added, rolling her eyes as I continued to stand there.

“Oh,” I said, the general hum of the crowd returning as room was added to the circle, where I took a cross-legged seat. Reaching over I gave the bottle a spin, and, now that I was closer, I was able to hear the quiet chiming as it rubbed against the floor until it came to a halt, pointing at Rainbow Dash. “Truth or Dare, Ms. Dash?”

“Just Dash,” she muttered, rolling her eyes again, “and dare, duh.”

Putting a thumb under my chin, I hoped my pretense would give me enough time to find… something, anything in the massive white-space that had scattered my remaining thoughts. I was not good at this game. But, with a grumble from my stomach, roused from its slumber now that I had managed to take an actual number of steps out of the corner I’d secluded myself in, I came to the ingenious solution of daring Dash to wade through the crowd herself and bring me a plate of snacks. Maybe pigs-in-a-blanket, or some of that cheesecake I’d seen earlier on someone’s plate. But, no sooner had I opened my mouth when a hush fell over the entire crowd, then, in a reverse-wave, began to bow to the floor.

“Rise my fellow ponies,” I heard Luna command through several thick, Twilight-sized bookcases, as I turned a finger in my ear sympathetically. “I am here to speak with The Elements of Harmony and Wayde.”

“Well, that’s us,” Dash said, winging off as I stood up, only to U-turn back once she saw me heading towards the wall. “Hey, the Princess is that way,” she pointed with a hoof to the library’s entrance.

“I know,” I said, pausing just one more step from face-planting against it, and, sticking a foot into shadow added, “I’ll see you when you get there,” and hopped the rest of the way in, the sounds of Dash’s bluster disappearing behind me as the world turned to a moment of blur then to blue as I zeroed in on Luna’s fear, peeling out of the bookcase just to the left of The Princess of the Night and the hallway behind her. And, much to my smug satisfaction, I’d managed to beat everyone, except Pinkamena, who was waving at me. I waved back, and no sooner had I put my hand back down then the others rounded bookcases and broke through crowds as they semi-circled up around Princess Luna, and, much to my pleasure, Rainbow Dash arrived last.

Landing next to me, she leaned over and, in a low tone, said, “I’m going to crush you in a race as soon as we’re done here.”

“Whatever you say snail bait,” my mouth shot off before I could catch it. Well, maybe not entirely before I could have.

Dash didn’t get the chance to respond as Princess Luna turned her attention back to the crowd, and said, “Please return to your merry making my subjects, your friends will be returned shortly, I need but a few moments of their time.” Turning her attention to the seven of us, she said, “Please, may we have this discussion in the kitchen,” briefly dipping her eyes to the floor, “I’m afraid I’ve a rather busy night ahead of myself and have yet to break my fast.”

“Of course Princess Luna,” Twilight smiled, “this way,” she pointed to the right of the door.

“You need not resort to such formality Princess Sparkle,” Luna said, nodding to the purple alicorn, “this is your home. Please, lead the way.”

“Hee,” Sparkle blushed, “of course. This way,” she said, exiting the library as the rest of us followed down the next two rights in to the kitchen, a strangely regular looking place. The floor was still crystal, but the table tops and cupboards that lined the walls were wooden with a restaurant sized stainless-steel double sink sat at the far end of the room. On the other two, sat a large stove-top oven and fridge respectively, both metallic, and both painted a homey looking shade of white.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” Sparkle asked.

Nodding Princess Luna, said, “A large cup of coffee, black as you can fea- as black as you might easily manage.”

The Princess of Magic nodded, her horn alighting with violet cloud as the rest of us circled around the small white-tiled island in the center of the kitchen.

“Now,” Princess Luna said, looking to the girls, “while I’m sure what I’m about to say may seem a bit strange, I’d like to explain what Mr. Molan is doing here.”

***

The stench of coffee was the only thing that permeated the room in its silence as the Elements of Harmony continued to stare at Princess Luna in various looks of concentration. Then, in a rather disturbing act of unison, looked left and right at each other.

When no one else spoke, Luna, taking a brief glance at me, took the initiative and said, “I know this is a lot to take in…”

“Of course it’s a lot to take in,” Dash frowned, giving me a mean look as she flapped into the air. “I mean, I mean,” she muttered, looking at her hooves.

“I sorta know what you mean Dash,” Applejack said, “I mean, yeah, it’s kinda, well, a lot unsettlin’ knowin’ that somepony else knows so much about us, but like the Princess said, there are discrepancies between this show and us. But even if there weren’t it still wouldn’t be us, and, well, if you’re really gonna get so bent outta shape about this, then I guess you’d better trash all of your Daring Do books, seeing as how she’s real too.”

That took some of the wind out of Dash’s sails, dropping a few inches closer to the floor.

“And another thing, it’s hardly this feller’s fault if he reads or watches something in all innocence, just enjoying something that for all intents and purposes was meant and supposed to be fictional. Ah mean, for all we know every last bit of fiction we have is real someplace else. We’ve already been inside a comic book, who’s to say you couldn’t push a little bit more magic into it and make a universe out of it?”

“It wouldn’t be tha-” Twilight began to say.

“Well spoken Applejack,” Luna nodded.

“Eh, you get a lotta time to think while mindin’ the crops. Used to make-believe I was buckin’ badguys from those pirate books I used to read when I was a filly during harvest time,” Applejack shrugged.

“So,” I added tentatively, drawing everyone’s attention, “what can I do?”

“You?” Pinkamena gasped, hoping to the door as she pointed a hoof to the hallway, “You can get right back to the party with the rest of us and have some fun.” Then, turning to Luna added, “come on, we have just enough time to squeeze in three and a half party games before you have to go,” and was gone.

“But,” was all Twilight had to say before the others, looked to each other, and ran back for the party, sweeping up Twilight as they went.

“Well,” Princess Luna said, pointing a dark-blue wing to the open door, “I do like games. Let us make haste.”

“Yes ma’am,” I smiled. There was nothing else to be done.

(16)

My failure will hurt my friends.

My greed will hurt my friends.

If I wasn’t so stiff, I might almost feel like celebrating. Moments awake, and only two fears were rattling about in my head? Today was going to be a good day.

Slowly shifting my legs over the edge of the nightmare hammock I’d stuck into the corner of the guestroom, the bed having become too short thanks to the party, I grunted, sending the sand to scurry under itself and sprout seven thin, hairless spider legs to rock me across the floor and hook up my boots up to me.

Snapping my fingers, a cloud of sand balled out from under the guest-bed over to me, dragging a trail of flame-shaped sand in its wake.

“I want a shower,” I grunted and the sand immediately jumped to action, flashing a pale blue as it passed through the wall and out into the hallway. Picking slowly away at the slime and crust that’d snuck into my eyes during the night, I motioned my head in the general direction of the door. It took a few moments, but the construct seemed to get the idea and clicked its way across the crystalline floor to the shining embedded-glass portal, stopping only to twist a limb into a broken spiral and turn the knob and then shuffle out into the hallway.

Flicking away my eye-gunk, hunching against the chill of the high-ceilinged hallway, I looked to my wrist in vain for the watch that wasn’t there. ‘That stupid thing should have been back by n-’

“AAAHHH,” came the shrill, feminine scream, echoing up the hall, stealing away my sluggish thoughts.

“God, “ I sighed, “Damnit,” sliding off of my make-shift perch, feet moving to darkness as they hit the floor, sparing me its chill, and sped to the sound of fear, frustration burning away the last vestiges of sleep pulling at my eyes.

One full day and already I was getting the Ponyville Special. Well, at least I got one day, I thought, rounding the corner to see Twilight, hairbrush in a cloud of violet magic above her, swatting at the ball of two thin disks of sand flapping open and closed, and sporting some weird spiky teeth that kept elongating and mashing into others like some sort of gum.

Pulling up to and out of the wall, thousands of black shards stung across my fist, the animating fear leaving it as the clouding bits dusted to the floor.

Straightening up, I looked down into Princess Sparkle’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, making a conscious effort to keep my breathing steady, too ashamed, too angry, too embarrassed to elaborate, not that there was really a need to. A monster attack indeed.

“What’s wrong Twilight?” Spike shouted, holding a batter-covered mixing-spoon at the ready as he skidded around the corner.

“I am,” I replied as he came to a halt, his gaze shifting to the disappearing pile of sand and the hairbrush Twilight still floated in her grasp.

“What was that?” Twilight asked, still breathing a little heavy from her small fright.

“An attempt to find a shower, which failed” I frowned, pointing a chin to the open door behind her and the tiled bathroom within. Turning on my heel, fists clenched, I began to walk, down the halls and stairs, and out into the much needed open air.

Leaving the castle behind me, grateful that Ms. Sparkle decided I wasn’t worth the effort, I crested the small hill, giving me an unobstructed view of Ponyville’s town-proper. I could even see a few of the ponies getting on with... whatever it was that they did. Grocery shopping, going to work, or just out for a stroll, and nearly all of them paired with some smiling companion.

Moving, now downhill, a small, rainbow streak ejected itself from a cloud just beside the distant clock tower, the enclosing bundles of fear informing me of her identity just as much as the multichromatic contrail glittering behind her as she came to a breakneck stop just an arms breath away from me.

“Hey you,” Ms. Dash said, just beginning to squint her eyes, “it’s, aaaaahhhh,” she yawned, “it’s about time you woke up. Applejack needs my help busting up one of her barns today, so I can’t spend it waiting for you to show up and lose a race to me.”

“Ah hee hee,” I giggled, much to Ms. Dash’s annoyance, but the moment had turned so absurd so fast. And it felt good.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. We’ll see who snail bait is after I’ve made my,” she paused, her smug grin receding, looking up as she silently tapped around the circumference of her right forehoof,“four-hundred and… sixth consecutive win.”

“So what’duh I get when I win?” I grinned. “I like being smug as much as the next guy, but bragging rights aren’t exactly my thing?”

“Whguh,” Ms. Dash sputtered before a devious smirk quickly overcame her. “Oh, so it’s a wager huh? Well, when I win, you’ll get to be my personal cheering squad for the week. And if, I dunno,” she rolled her eyes, “some meteor falls from the sky and I can’t get out of the hospital for a week, then, whatever floats your boat buddy,” she chuckled.

“Fine,” I shrugged blandly, earning me quiet snort from the speedster. “And how does from here to Applejacks sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” she squinted, floating down to the dirt, stretching herself out to spring back into the air. “On your mark, get set-”

“Wait.”

“What?”

A small circle of shadow spread out beneath me, and a column of sand rose me skyward until I could just make out the sight of a bunch of emerald bushes surrounding a few ruby-red barns.

“I just needed to see which way it was,” I said as I got back down and moved into my best approximation of the sprinting position, the intervening three seconds having been five seconds too long for the mare who was busy tapping a hoof into the dirt.

Eyes forward, I nodded.

“Alright,” Ms. Dash said, the assurance of victory already lacing her voice, “on your mark, get set, G-”

I was already diving into the ground much as Ms. Dash was whistling into the sky before the final word could reach its end.

No time to look for a convenient shadow, to dive down further and parse through the lights until I found the single speck of Applejack or a family member, no time to understand the blurring landscape, just time for closing the distance and feeling the pulse of oncoming fears. The fear of losing more family, of losing a sister, or losing a brother, of losing her grandchildren before she was even put into the ground.

Wind was whipping into my eyes the moment I jettisoned from the ground. Throwing out a hand, the sound of rain rushed up, cutting me off from the sunlight as the nightmares cocooned around me, braking me to a cushioned halt.

“Away,” I commanded, throwing a hand behind me, blinking away the sudden rush of light and vertigo as my heels dropped to the ground.

Cupping my hands to shade my eyes against the white of the large apple-shaped wood-cutting over the gate, proudly proclaiming to being the entrance to the Apple Family Orchard, I then heard the mingled cries of, “What in tarnation?” “Oh comeON!”

“Well,” I grinned, taking an unsteady step forward, “looks like I w-”

“Like hay you did! Teleportation doesn’t count,” Ms. Dash protested, flaring her wings, pushing her face into mine.

“First,” I said, taking a step back, “a little space, please.”

She snorted, crossing her forehooves.

“Second, I didn’t teleport. I’m not even sure if… I…” I trailed off before shaking the distraction away, “Anyway. Look, if I were some mermare, would you complain if I swam here instead of ran?”

“Well, I,” she paused, biting her lower lip.

“And third, as my prize, I’ve decided you’re going to hand over all the Apple Family Apple Cider you’ve got in your possession.”

“WHAT?!?”

“Ahaha, whut?” Ms. Applejack chuckled.

“Ms. Dash thought I couldn’t beat her in a race and essentially promised me anything if I did,” I said, turning to Ms. Applejack, a thin sheen of sweat already coating her despite the morning cool.

“An’ if you lost?”

“Then I was going to be her cheerleader for the week.”

“Well,” Applejack grinned, giving an over-exaggerated turn of the head to her blue friend, “you heard the stallion. You did give your word and all.”

“Whoa, wait,” Ms. Dash pleaded, waving her forehooves out in front of her, “l-let’s talk about this. How about double or nothing?”

“Oh come on Dash, don’t be a sore-”

“I’m listening,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Hoo, okay,” she sighed, licking her lips, “The barn. We’ll take shots at it, and whoever destroys it the most wins. And Applejack,” she added, zipping over to wrap an arm around her friend’s pale-orange neck, “will be the judge. Right buddy?”

“Eh, why not? Just don’t expect any special treatment.”

“Never even crossed my mind,” Ms. Dash replied, patting the back of her friend’s neck before flying back up, stopping just a few inches higher than myself.

“Well I just finished up here,” Applejack said, stepping to the white-wash wooden fence, biting up the hammer she’d left leaning against it and placing it in her toolbox, “so let me just put this back and we’ll get goin’.”

“Uggghhh,” Ms. Dash groaned into her hooves as Ms. Applejack took off at an easy walking pace. Zipping forward to grab the toolbox from her friend’s mouth, she winged off past the flanking hills where rows of fresh… leafy something was budding up, and into the red barn/home I’d forgotten that the earth-pony farmer actually lived in, and rushed back some few seconds later wearing a yellow hard-hat, and carrying two others under each of her forelegs.

“Come on,” she said, tossing the hats which Applejack easily caught on her head, sliding off her Stetson, whereas my personal flailings just managed to catch the well-worn protective gear before it hit the ground, only to find the oblong thing didn’t fit.

“Quit wasting time,” I heard Ms. Dash call from behind and to the right of me, back along the rows of apple trees growing along the fence line.

Jogging through the myriad of blossoming trees to the two ponies, I entered a small clearing noticeably bereft of all but the withered remains of weeds that had failed to grow in the pale, cracked earth, and at the center of it all stood the barn. The faded red was nearly pink where the paint wasn’t peeling, a thick layer of dust clung to its bottom edge, almost seeming to claw up like stalagmites, and what looked like an empty moat ran around the whole thing a few yards from its edge. It never even occurred to me to consider how crisp, clean, and well maintained the rest of the farm looked beforehand, but this sore thumb of a decaying, I hesitated to call it a structure, forced me to cut my gaping short, throw out a hand, and say, “What happened to this place?”

“Zap Apples,” Ms. Dash scoffed, “duh. I thought you guys knew basically everything about us?”

“Don’t be rude Dash, if anything, we’re more like fables to him and his folk. It’s not like you know who stitches Daring Do’s kit back together after it falls to pieces on one of her adventures.

“Uh,” Ms. Dash blushed, knocking her helmet forward a bit as she rubbed the back of her mane.

“Ooo-kayyyy,” Ms. Applejack replied, turning briefly away from Ms. Dash to clear her throat, “but you know what I mean.”

Ms. Dash nodded.

“Anyway,” Ms. Applejack said, turning to me, “Zap Apples are a might touchy until we can get them into jam, and we can’t just leave ‘um out in the open to summon lightning and risk losing an orchard or two. It’s just safer to keep them grounded in a barn. Though, downside is the magical-static buildup is pretty rough on it,” pointing a hoof to the barn, “but, just a single harvest pays for the supplies and rebuilding for the rest of the year.”

“Alright, history lesson’s over,” Ms. Dash said quickly, “Now get into the ditch so we can finally start.”

“Nice to see you’re in a hurry to do some chores for once,” Ms. Applejack chuckled, sidestepping the nudge meant to speed her down. Sliding on her hooves into the ‘moat’, she stuck her neck back up and called out, “Alright, who’s first?”

“Ladies first,” I shrugged, sinking into shadow to the sound of Ms. Dash’s deepening chuckle as she rubbed her hooves together.

I blinked, and by then it was too late to see where Ms. Dash had gone, though I was still decidedly aware of her distancing fear. Blinking towards the sky, a flash of circling color wreathed in cloud was all I saw before shutting my eyes where the disturbingly colored afterimage lingered as singular, strangely wide and booming crack assaulted my ears, and, as the burning afterimage began to fade, all I could see was a hazy maroon dust that had sent Ms. Applejack into a fit of coughing in-between sneezing.

I was just about to move a hand, to try and make the nightmares do something of use, I knew I could, I’d done it before, when a gust of wind blew away the colored smog, revealing a particularly smug smile resting under helmet-covered eyes of Rainbow Dash. Still beating her wings, what was left of her sonic rainboom spiraled into the coning streams of air beneath them, drawing in the surrounding dust to twist and spin out into the empty orchard where they would eventually settle to the ground.

I whistled, feeling a little silly, but I didn’t know what to say. It was just so much more to see a sonic rainboom in person, but with the lifting of her hard-hat, the moment passed as Ms. Dash said, “Well, looks like I win.”

Pulling up out of the ground, the lingering scent of saw-dust and… some sort of spice tickling at my nose, the last of what was left of the four barn walls collapsed upon the jagged remains of the roof’s main support beam, before it too cracked, leaving the pile to settle into a more ambiguous shape.

“Wow,” I gaped, a little shaken to be reminded that, despite her size, Ms. Dash was fully capable of breaking the sound barrier under her own power, crash into a solid object, and still have all of her body parts in the same county, let alone in one piece all together.

“Yeah,” Ms. Dash sniffed, blowing onto her hoof before rubbing it on her chest, “I’m awesome.”

“but…”

“But?”

“But we bet who could destroy the barn the most, and, well,” I shrugged, “I can still technically tell there used to be a barn there,” gesturing to the splintered rubble, which, at that time, gave a cartoonish shudder, falling further in on itself and shrinking closer to the ground.

The girls just shared a knowing looking, smirking at each other before Ms. Dash landed next to Ms. Applejack, and, putting her hooves behind her head as she leaned against the high embankment, closed her eyes and said, “Pff, whaht-ever, just remember a good cheerleader has breakfast ready for the early-riser by ten-thirty sharp,” adding, “and I like freshly chopped strawberries in my oatmeal.”

Ms. Applejack snorted back her laughter as I closed my eyes. I remembered being able to control the damned things, I just had to have the right mindset. Theatrics.

‘Hoh-kay,’ I thought, clenching my fists, pulling in the early morning shadows out from their fixed positions. A few trees, a good thirty or so, ringed the open space, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult to turn them the wrong way as it was ripping them away from their caster and twisting them out of shape.

‘And, now,’ I grinned, ‘the finale,’ scooping my hands up from behind me as sand, black, and glittering a sickly white as it caught the sun, burst from the commandeered shadows, spiraling to the man-made island, engulfing the platform. Still wanting more, the nightmares obliged, and the swirling sands begin to rise, drawing in the air, stealing away the loose pink petals from the trees, consuming them as the tower continued to grow. And then, I took a bow, letting the shadows of the trees whip back into position just before I lost my grip as the tower collapsed, sinking in on itself.

Another headache mounting, I wanted to lower myself to the grass, to cool off in the last bits of dew before they evaporated, but, but Ms. Applejack and Dash were… scared?

Ms. Applejack whistled, “Well,” she gulped, “I guess that settles that.”

“Tch, no fair,” Ms. Dash whined gruffly.

“How was that not fair?” Applejack said, throwing a hoof out to the circle of land, where not so much as a blade of grass or pinch of sawdust remained.

I was a little surprised it worked as well as it had myself, mincing the whole lot of it and throwing the dust up into the sky.

“Eh, uh, uh, because he, grrrrah,” she shouted, blasting up into the sky, then bolting back to town.

In the brief silence that followed, not wanting to intrude further than I already was into her mind by prying further, I asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with Ms. Applejack?”

“That’s nice of ya’ to ask, but me and Big Mac got it all covered for today, but thanks.”

I nodded, figuring I might try and go back to researching their fables and myths back at Ms. Sparkle’s castle, when a flash of violet light gleamed from the road in between the trees.

“Applejack!”

It was Ms. Sparkle.

Running, at once, we made for the sound of Ms. Sparkle’s distressed voice.

“What is it Twilight,” Applejack shouted, clearing the fence while I tossed myself over with a bump of sand.

“WHERE IS WAYde doing … here?” She blinked, wide-eyed, as she looked from me to her quizzical friend.

‘Why is she here?’ I worried, ‘What’s wron-’, cut short as her newest bubble of fear burst into my mind. ‘Oh,’ I sighed, shoulders falling.

“A reasonable fear Ms. Sparkle, but I was just clearing Ms. Applejack’s land of the zap apple barn.”

“Oh,” she deflated, if only a little, bringing a hoof to her chest to try and steady herself. “But wait, how did you?”

“I sense fears whether I want to or not Ms. Sparkle,” I frowned, glaring down at her, “if I could turn it off, I would.”

“Oh,” Ms. Sparkle replied quietly, lowering her head.

“Don’t feel too bad,” I said, squatting down, trying to relax my face as I looked her in the eyes, “it’s a pretty normal response to care about a friend’s wellbeing,” nodding over to Ms. Applejack, “and besides, we’ve got some research to do.”

“What did you say?” Twilight asked, a smile springing onto her face.

Standing back up, “Ms. Applejack said she is fine for the rest of the day, so I figured I’d go back to my plan of searching through pony folklore and see if there was any mention of anything that could possibly help me get back home and get back to normal. After all, Nightmare Moon, Daring Doo, and even The Mirror Pool turned out to be real,” I shrugged, cutting off Twilight’s attempt to protest, “and really, it’s the best chance I have right now. So,” I gestured down the path, “shall we?”

“Hmm,” Ms. Sparkle frowned, “maybe. Fiction isn’t exactly my expertise.”

“Ha,” Ms. Applejack snorted, tapping against my leg, “more like, not at all outside of Daring Do, and we all know how that turned out.”

The remarks were lost on Ms. Sparkle who was already consumed in her own little world of research, a quill and paper having appeared, and both were soundly in use as she slowly began to plod her way back home, mumbling off either a bunch of pony names or possible cloud and wind types. My money was on the previous.

Looking back to Ms. Applejack, I said, “Sorry for all the trouble.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Twi’s been known to get a little antsy from time to time, so don’t take it too personally. Just try to maybe keep things a little smaller next time.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, beginning to catch up to Twilight.

“And oh,” Ms. Applejack shouted back, “maybe try asking Pinkie about those myths. Knowin’ her, she’s probably got one or two stories from her grandma that’ll, if nothing else, get you looking in the right direction.”

“Thanks,” I waved back, jogging after the receding unicorn.

***

“Alright, so we’ve got Cumulus’s Literary Techniques of the Hoofington Era, Windswept’s Great Quest Structure’s, Grey Quilt’s Familial Geas and Hasty Promises, …” and she just kept on going, adding more and more books to the table. Not that I was ungrateful, far from it, with all of these books, even if tended more to the grammatical, they would at least indicate stories referenced in the works in the index or end notes.

No, what concerned me was that the massive crystal table, inches thick, with supporting legs that were fused to the floor, a thing no doubt magically crafted with Twilight’s proclivity for books in mind, had begun to creak. Lightly, but with each added book, the nearly inaudible sound had become a loud whisper by this point, and with the her nose deep within another meticulously maintained tome and tinkling magics buzzing around her holding a number of papers and quills, all writing their own set of notes, it was only because of Spike’s request that I wasn’t trying to rouse her.

Having found out that I was going to help her, he’d made sure to let me know that if she hadn’t asked me anything for fifteen minutes, then nothing outside of an emergency was going to move her, and to just let her have her fun.

The clock had just passed the fifteen minute mark, and without a peep from Ms. Sparkle outside of her continued mumblings and the sound of pages being turned. And, rather than question whether or not she new the weight limit of her tables, I decided it would probably be better to check with Ms. Pie for any leads now rather than look up any particular number of tales first. Actually, I’d thought of that at the two minute mark, but Spike had said she’d freaked out pretty badly the first time she’d found out I'd left rather than return to the guest room, and that I should probably stay, or else. Really, it was kind of heart-warming to see how much he cared about her, even if he did think I looked like some sort of shadow phantom from across the mirror.

Well, time was up. And I was ready to get things started my way. I’m sure Ms. Sparkle felt good about her methods, but I preferred to follow lines of thought to their conclusions rather than get mired in a tangle of them until the whole thing was a complete mess.

“Ms. Sparkle, I’m going to see if I can corroborate any of our findings with Ms. Pie,” I said, rising from my stool, the only chair in this library that was at least passingly comfortable for my body structure.

When no affirmation came, I decided to leave a note on the seat before walking out. Next, once I closed the door behind me, I followed the trail of fear until I found Spike, taking out a tray of sparkling, steaming cookies from out of the oven, without gloves, though that was less shocking when I remembered who exactly he was.

“Excuse me Spike, but, in case Ms. Sparkle misses the note I left, I’ll be seeing Ms. Pie about any particular stories her grandmother told her that may help us.”

“Ok,” he said through a mouthful of cookies, already pulling out the milk from the refrigerator.

Slipping into shadow, I made for the fridge as he closed it, diving deeper into the darkness, and then to the nearest cluster of lights. Aiming for somewhere in the center, when I pulled up, despite the shadows of the alleyway, I blinked at the searing colors of a shop across the sunny street whose sign proclaimed it as Hugger’s Tea and Tie-dye Shop.

“Charming,” I muttered, more from the influx of mostly familiar fears murmuring into my head than the obnoxiously loud color scheme. Ignoring the tacky design, I slip up to the thatched roof beside me, and spied out the gingerbread-styled roof and made for it, much to the sudden gasps and double-takes of those I passed.

Stepping up onto the grass from the wall of Sugarcube Corner, bending down, I stepped through the open doors and into the smell of warm, gooey treats, with a mingling scent of lemon, cinnamon, strawberry, and peach that melded just perfectly together, only to stop at the coat rack, where a single yellow rain-jacket with matching wide-brimmed hat were hanging on, and a familiar static was coming from.

“Um, are you okay Ms. P-” I started to say, but the static vanished, reappearing by the display case ahead by the register. Stepping forward, I found it wasn’t the display case, but the bowl of complementary mints on the counter. “Ms. Pie, why are you in the mint bowl?”

“Be right with you,” came the friendly shout from the kitchen. A few seconds later the yellow stallion, Mr. Cake, step in from the kitchen door behind the counter. Gulping, he put on a smile and said, “What can I get for you today, Wayde, was it?”

“Yes sir, but I was looking to talk to Ms. Pie about something, but she seems to be busy in the mint-bowl for some reason,” I said, looking down.

“Oh sweet sassafras, there’s two of them,” he whispered. “Well,” he said at normal volume, his smile beginning to visibly waver, “I’ll just let you two get on it then, and just remind Pinkie to wash her hooves once she’s done. We don’t want the next pastry she touches to taste like peppermint.”

“Yes sir,” I nodded as he disappeared back into the kitchen, when the static of fear moved again, to the register.

Ringing itself open, two pink hooves reached out, pushing down on the sides of drawer, when, after a moment of what sounded like rubber stretching, Ms. Pie popped out into the air, landing lightly onto her feet. Turning around quickly, her hair, whipping in a full circle as it caught the momentum, came to rest over her eyes, almost seeming to lid them above the smile she wore. “Ooo, you’re pretty good at this game. So wha’chu want?”

Author's Notes:

Objective: Find Quest Giver [✓]

(17) Mk. C: Soul Temper

And there it was, the legend of The Binder’s Web right there in the same "story book" that held such legends as The Mirror Pond and The Legend of Nightmare Moon. Said to be capable of trapping the unending powers of love. And, considering how powerful that sort of stuff is in this place, fear should be a walk in the park. But, there was one problem, according to the 'legend', it was held by the monstrous Bog King, which, and he, along with so many other legends, was located somewhere deep within the Everfree Forest. And his castle was protected by the great predators of the swamp, which he held in fealty with his great staff, sinewy pictures of hydras littered the story book, but there were others that neither Pinkamena or Ms. Dash were able to recognize, though both admitted that the Everfree, especially the hydra infested bogs were not well explored, even by Everfree standards.

Worse, Bog Castle was said to only reveal itself at the behest of the Bog King himself, which Pinkamena clarified was just a flowery literary trope that probably meant that, in all likelihood, the castle was hidden in it's own pocket dimension, and thus perfectly concealed from any magic probe that didn't know the frequency. And there were a lot of frequencies. And not just of magic, there were countless ways to hide, be it three seconds ahead of the rest of the world, sideways, vibration beyond what the eye could perceive, though I was told that really only worked for smaller things. Then, when Pinkamena began going on about all the different ways one could be purple, Ms. Dash cut her off with an irritated, "Yeah yeah, we get it Pinkie."

“Wait,” I said, a stray thought budding through the normally feat-choked haze of information always pouring into my head, "if this place is so impossible to get to, who's the guy-"

"Pony," corrected Ms. Dash.

"Organic," I frowned, "who wrote the original story?"

“Uh,” Ms. Dash said, flipping to the beginning of the story, “huh, no name, just the editor of this story, ugh," she groaned, flipping first to the front, and then to the back, "leave it to an egghead to over-complicate a foal's story. Eh," she paused, reading a few more lines, "someponies up in ... Canterlot, it looks like, did this group of stories from original transcripts and oral translations blah blah blah, look," she said, snapping the book closed, "Twilight's better at this egghead stuff than me, I'm sure she can figure out who we should ask."

“Ooooo, and then we can get a hold of a map, imagine,” Pinkamena grinned, "we could all get our own pith hats, and Rarity could finally have the opportunity to make some hoofware and- Oh hi Wayde,” she waved, looking suddenly right.

‘The hell is she look-’

But the thought was sucked out with my breath as golden sand struck into my gut and swept me into it's swirling maw.

***

Coughing, bile rising, the ring of golden sand disappeared, leaving my limbs to shake on the cold, wet ground as belief began to flow out of me. I could feel the new fear, it was close, poking into my mind, with nothing substantial for I didn’t care to guess how long, and one of them, God help me, was the one responsible for it. And God only knew when I’d pop back. Hell, it was only the words of Cat, how this person was supposedly calling for my help was the only thing keeping me from rushing out of whatever new ... twisted wooden insides, vaguely tribal looking masks, and colored glass globes with candles shining through on shelves and hanging from netted cords. I’d peg it for Zecora’s if I’d ever actually been inside her actual house.

Slowly rolling to my side, I grabbed for one of the twisted wall protrusions and began pulling myself to my feet. Leaning, now, against the wall, my vision beginning to straighten, the ache in my stomach silenced, someone was scared. The Displaced could wait. Stalking forward, vision tunneling, the song of fear continued to ring out in the silence, drowning out the three others.

Just around the corner, I found a giant of a man, a human looking man, in white boxers, scars completely crisscrossing across his body in time with straps of white bandaging, and with the most ridiculous black, corn-rowed spikes of hair extending past the back of his head with little bells attached to the ends. His feet hung just over the side of the long, sheet tossed bed, and, atop of him lay a small girl, bad as I am with ages, she couldn’t have been more than twelve, and was snoring, back splayed on the muscles beneath her, and spread out like she was trying to make a snow angel, her eastern looking black and white pajamas only adding to the illusion as her left foot continued twitching, almost comically, beneath the chin of the man.

The fear sounded again, stealing my attention back down to the man.

Stepping forward, bells at the sides of the man’s head ringing as he turned on his other side, showing off the large black eye-patch on his right eye as the other was smashed closed. But the fear… there was a second fear hide-

“Inside?” I whispered, sneering. There was a second seat of fear, a chief fear, trying to squash out the shining, delicious light that was singing out to me, demanding my attention.

Thrusting my arm forward, plunging it into the man’s skull, the swirling nightmares within depressed against me, sparking into me a twisted landscape of bone and flesh twisting into limbed trees pulsing with blood up the veins of their fleshy trunks while hand-leaves with unlidded green-grey eyes grabbed uselessly toward the one clearing in the twisted forest as the mountain man, now wearing the same clothing as the little pink-hair girl, but with the sleeves ripped apart, was swinging a chipped-edged sword at a fleeing man, almost a full head shorter, and definitely no less than three weight-classes outclassed, screaming for help.

He got it.

The trees began throwing their eyes, pelting the smaller man in their haste, but mostly at the larger one. The mountain man batted the slow, wobbling projectiles with ease, lines of his utter boredom chipping away at the nightmare’s integrity, but the smaller man, weaponless as he was, was only able to stumble thanks to the added slickening gore upon the ground, and shine with renewed fear, the head sized eyes swallowing him whole, and then steaming to mush, the whites of the eyes and the black irises thinning, running, and merging between one another until they resembled the mountain’s robes, torn and tattered sleeves and all, and in his hand, the same chipped sword.

The mountain man gave a sneer, but by then my own presence was already sweeping across the ruddy hills of the forest ringing them and pulling down the landscape into a lightless flat plain. More fear burst from the small one, the shadows only seconds away from consuming the them both, when the mountain man did something altogether unexpected. He began to radiate ... joy, and, tearing off his eyepatch, a yellow light consumed his body in a crackling aura. And then, with a grin, he let his aura burst, throwing out my shadows, pushing them out of his dream and back into m-

Blinking, legs splayed out before me, back now hurting as much as my stomach, I saw the mountain man, now, from the other side of the room. I wasn’t sure if I should be scared or simply in awe, but what little nightmare sand that I could make was already bust spiking into me from the shadow my back made pressed against the wall.

The mountain man, John Kenpachi his dreams called him ... I think, grunted, grimacing as a line of ruby blood began to drip from his nose, pooling onto the white pillow beside him.

“Oh shhhh,” I grunted up, there was still a child in the room after all, even if she was sleeping. That wasn’t good. ‘Bleeding internally is bad,’ I thought, scrambling forward, ‘and even worse when you're sleeping.’ He’d already hit me out of his dreams already, I went with my gut and tried to place my hands on his shoulders.

They didn’t go through.

‘Thank God.’

Planting myself, I did my very best to shake what I could only guess to be one-hundred and fifty pounds of muscle from the waist up, through it could just as well be less for all the good my stunted body was now capable of. Huffing, I growled to the shadows, sending the sand to wrapping around my middle. Sprouting two-pairs of tentacles, two anchoring me to the ground to better bare the weight and the other two to wrap around up and around his armpits, they began to shake him.

“Nnnngh,” he growled.

‘Yes!’ I sighed. He was awake, and that meant I could get hel-

CRACK!!!

Coughing into shadow, flashes of air whistling through my ears and my back screaming as pain consumed it wisped up in a blur of memory.

“ – I WON’T LOSE! -” he manages to shouts through the ringing in my ears, even as my shadowed form numbs the pain.

Holding my head, the dust settles above me, showing the gaping hole that was the wall of the room inside the jungle tree I was supposed to be in, as the thoughts of whether I should curse the ungrateful speed whore for their ingratitude or marvel at how I hadn’t been turned to paste after crashing through that thick of a wall.

Sliding a few feet back, I can see John’s good eye bulging out as it swivels around the surrounding jungle.

I snapped my fingers. Nightmares slowly began streaming up from me, clouding into a more ‘substantial’ version of myself. Raising its ‘hands’ up to its chest in a placating manner, it warbled, “Please, your bleeding, we have to get you to a doctor.’

A flash of silver, and an upward burst of sand is all the hint I have that he struck my nightmare.

“Are you really this much of a coward! Using cheap tricks like this won’t save you!” he sneers, his eye still wildly searching around him. “Where’d he go?” head jumping from shadow to shadow, “Come on!” he growls, “You wanted to fight so let’s go! Are you really this weak!?”

Snapping, again, the fallen pile reformed, and, taking a step back from John and his long sword, it warbled, “No tricks. I woke you up because your head was bleeding. You need a doctor.”

He only growls, almost like a chant, as he raises his sword as the yellow aura from the dream engulfs the metal. And then, he swung.

The ground roared like thunder, thick chunks of earth rose like dust, as the yellow bolt tore through the forest, the trees cracking like the echoes of the yellow boom before it, to say nothing of my shattered nightmare. The sky briefly darkened, and as the clods fell back down, sounding like rain as they tumbled through the canopy, John spat the dirt from his mouth, then said, “These puppets won’t fool me, now where are you!?”

“Right behind you,” I state, a nightmare shaped fist lancing from my shadow, slamming into where I hoped his kidney was.

It was no longer a question of whether or not he woke up poorly or if his head was in worse shape than I thought. If he was capable of that, bandaged as he is, I couldn’t let him risk the lives of the others inside with an ill-timed swing.

‘I really hope TV didn’t lie to me about kidney punches.’

“Well that was uncomfortable,” he frowns, twisting to send his free hand around, shattering yet another puppet with ease. “I’m getting real tired of this shit. I swear I will destroy everything in my path to find you if you don’t come out!” he yells, stomping his foot, indenting the dirt floor of the forest. “You got the count of three before I start wrecking shit! ONE!”

He wasn’t listening, and I couldn’t risk another of those sword swings, not with that little girl so close. He was too much of a threat.

Thrusting out my arm, what little sand I had geysered from below the threat. He grunted, but that’s all the distraction the second stream needs as it fills into his nostrils and past his parted lips. He’ll choke back to unconciousn-

“TWO!” he continues to shout, reaching up to my eyepatch.

‘The Hell, not so much as a cough?!? Why isn’t he stopping!!? This isn’t possible!!!’

“THR-”

A single cold and unmoving thought fills me: No.

The nightmares leap to my command, turning on their flecked edges, and slicing down into what should be his lungs.

He coughs, blood spattering to the dirt, and he falls. Quiet.

Turning to the house, a coldness grows in my arms, spilling over into my chest and pooling into my stomach, even as the shadows begin to dim it.

Sliding across the ground and into the house, a distant part of me wonders how many pieces of wood are splintering into my back. Moving onto the wall, I finally step back into the light. The small pink haired girl was still asleep, none of his actions had managed to hurt her, she even had her thumb in her mouth, all curled up on her side. Small miracles.

But that still left me with her and the second dot of fear further into the house. That, and how I was going to -FEAR MOVING-

Gasping, the air in my lungs pressing out, the fear, the weakening fear from outside was inside, and it wasn’t so weak anymore. But whatever scent it had was of little concern past the new feeling of cold, physical cold, filling into my chest, mingling with dying spurts of heat.

“Gotcha.” He purrs.

A part of the cold pulls away from me, letting in a renewed mingling of dying warmth and growing cold as I fall to the floor “You gave me quite the test, but yet, this fight was far from enjoyable. But, I must commend you for your attempt, any last wor-” a pause, “Who the hell are you?”

All I can see is floor, I try to breathe, but my chest feels heavy. But, I can’t let my focus slip. If I don’t answer him, if I don’t keep him occupied, he’ll just go into another rage. I have to stay awake long enough to think of something.

I try to snap my fingers, but I just can’t get them to rub against each other, the sand still comes, slowly, spelling ‘Wayde Molan’ across the floor.

I hate this undead monster, but even the heat of it is tested by the growing cold.

“Who the fuck is Wayde Molan? … Wait, you’re Wayde Molan aren't you?”

I try to move my arm up, put enough pressure on the wound to give me more time, but my arm won’t move. Can’t risk going to shadow, can’t let him go into another rag-

He picks me up, I try to scrape into his back, call the sand, wrap it around my fingers to stab into it, to tear out whatever foul organs keep this abomination alive, but they refuse to come. He places me back down, leaning on the wall in a sitting position, the pain unsettles again, but this time there’s more heat and less cold. Looking up, I see stains of black liquid staining into the white of his bandages as he leaves the room.

Now’s my chance, if I can just get up I can save one of-

“If you leave now idiot you’re going to bleed out. Just stay still,” he rumbles, crouching down as he starts wrapping some white cloth around my chest, “I’ll get you patched up, then Zecora will fix the rest when she gets back… well after she flips out on me that is,” he grins, crags forming at the corners of his eyes.

Mouth dry, it was still hard to breath, but I simply can’t fathom why I’m not dead. You can’t lose this much blood and still be alive. I shouldn’t even be conscious come to think of it, all the same, I can’t question it, if I’m not dying, that means I can save the girl from this psychopath.

Again, I try to snap my fingers, my mouth still doesn’t feel right, but still comes, slowly scraping across themselves to spell: Why are you healing me?

“Because I want answers.”

Failing to snap again, the sand formed a question mark.

“I want to know why you tried to jump me in my sleep. Plus, I don’t kill those weaker than me.”

‘Just give me a single night,’ I sneer, through it probably looked little more than a twitch of my lips, as the sand spells: Same as when I told you before. Your head was bleeding. Had to wake you up. Then I could go for help.

“My head was bleeding? So that’s why I smelt blood, ha!”

‘The hell is wrong with this freak?’

“I thought you were the one that made me bleed! That’s one of the reasons I thought you were trying to kill me. Well that and the fact you were in the same room as me in the bloody dark, looming over me like some kind of serial killer inspecting his prey before chopping them up and eating them. But the smell of blood was a factor,” he rumbles, almost joyfully. “Also, sorry about before, I was being defensive so anything you said just never reached my ears.” John shrugged, standing up and walking over to the bed, grabbing a free pillow before stepping into the next room clutching another as he returns. “Ok here’s what I want you to do. I patched you up the best I could, but you’re still bleeding pretty bad, so I’m going to put this pillow underneath you and you are going to lay on it to apply pressure to your back, while this other pillow you are going to hold on your front and squeeze-hug it to apply pressure to your front. Got it?”

He couldn’t possibly be stupid enough to think anything short of gauze stuffed directly into the wound will do anything productive, let alone a lumpy pillow, not that I was going to tell the psycho that while the girl was still in the room. But, my thoughts were coming a little more quickly now.

The sand shifted: I can’t feel my arms. And, you should probably get a doctor or something.

“That’s what we are waiting on, as for your arms, guess I’ll just have to get more cloth and apply the pressure myself.” I hear more tearing of cloth after he steps quickly away, retuning with a bundle roughly half the size of one of the pillows. Moving me roughly forward, he squeezes me between the pillows and the torn sheets. I want to scream, but the pain comes too quick, stunning me silent. Standing up to ‘admire’ his handiwork he says, “So how did you get here? By the way nice Pitch you got going on there, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.”

‘Oh lovely. He IS a Displaced.’

I shift the sand: And is the little girl your sister then?

“The little girl? You mean Yachiru? Well, it’s hard to explain, she is my adoptive daughter, but we treat each other more like brother and sister. So the best answer I can give you is that she’s family to me.” he explains, smiling up to the ceiling, “By the way you still haven’t answered my question, how did you get here?”

‘Wonderful, an unstable father who wants to be buddies with his child. Good thing those dynamics never go south.’

The sand doesn’t react to my sarcastic thoughts, remaining motionless until I directly command it to answer the question: I’m stolen away from my Equestria by a small golden orb of sand.

He squints. “Does this orb shift into other stuff and then turn back into an orb? If so, then I think I’m the one who brought you here. My bad,” he chuckles, “didn’t even know what the blasted thing was, I’ve only been in this new world for a day at most.” he scratches the back of his head with his left hand then sighs, “Don’t even know how I got here, I just remember meeting this shady merchant, I bought an eyepatch and Yachiru doll from him, and BAM I’m here! I mean this is cool and all, but… what about my friends?” he frowns, shoulders falling in what I can only assume are the first sensible emotions he’s had since he woke up. Wait, did he just say his adopted kid was a doll? “I doubt there is a way back, nor would I go back since that might mean Yachiru gets turned back into a doll, and that’s not something I would let happen.” he frowns down at me. “Are there others like us?”

‘The fuck does he know. Assumes. Coward.’ The sand remains silent, not that I really expected an answer from it. No sound comes, but I can feel my fingers rubbing against each other now. The sand shifts: Yes. And few and far between are particularly healthy either.

“So the rumors were true… well shit.” he pauses, a sickle shaped grin overtaking him as he growls, “How strong are they?”

Flashes of the “Christmas” Party filter through my memory. He still sounds crazy, but, since I’m not dead from blood loss, I think it’s time to withdraw. I can always torture him if he harms the girl after all, I shift the sand: Poor to Titanic in power, but that doesn’t mean they know how to use their power. And, not to be rude, but, since you don’t seem like you’re going to kill the little girl any time soon, unless she decides to wake you up, I’m going to find some medical attention.

The bells on the man's messy hair jingle, their sudden chime sending him to stiffen, “Well I think Zecora is back if that feeling of someone piercing the back of my head with their gaze means anything,” he grins sheepishly.

‘Or the new fear holder behind you, you overgrown ape.’

Turning around to face the hole in the wall, head shrinking into his shoulders, he tries to chuckle, but the sound dies in his own throat as he says, “Hey Zecora, hehe, I know this looks bad-”

“To call this bad for such a disturbance, does not even begin to scratch the surface.”

“But you see me and my friend here got into a little bit of a fight, and right now he needs help because I might have probably, definitely stabbed him and is in urgent need of medical attention.”

Silence holds for a moment as I see the Mohawked head of a zebra pop out from the side of John. “Is that the cloth from beneath my zanpakuto” she hums, “gifted by the previous captain from so long ago?”

“... yesss?”

I hear Zecora exhale slowly, before walking inside, looking over to me as she begins making her way past John. I can’t help but notice she’s wearing the same style of clothing as him. I blink, and the next thing I see is a room empty of the mountain sized man and the sound of shattering glass and disturbed shelving in another room as the zebra moves back down to all fours from her punching stance.

‘God, is everyone this disgustingly fast?’

“So now that our fellow nuisance is gone, let’s see to getting you healed before dawn.”

“You,” I cough weakly in amazement, “can ... see me?”

“An odd thing for a fellow spirit to say,” she smiles, “but I suppose we learn something new each day.”

***

Slamming the front door open, surprised that it doesn’t break anything, I follow behind John into Zecora’s home. Rubbing the back of my neck, he calls out, “Hey, crazy striped horse, the patch job’s done!”

No sooner did I bite my tongue when a wad of pink cannon-balled into the room cheering, “Ken-chan!” as it snuggled into his face.

“Finally awake huh?” he says, pulling her off to rustle her hair, “I swear you could sleep through a war if you wanted to.” She remains silent, wiggling out of his grasp to sit on his head and pointed at me.

John rolls his eyes, grabbing her by the scruff of her pajamas, scooting her down to his shoulder. Noticing her extended finger he says, “This here is- actually I’ll let him introduce himself.”

“Hello little miss,” I nod, giving a small smile to the crazy man’s living doll, “my name is Wayde Molan. What is yours?”

She giggles, all too much like a real child, her fear of losing her ‘Kenny’ not helping either, then says, “I’m Yachiru Kusajishi Mr. Boogeyman! I’m Ken-chan’s first lieutenant and I’ve been with him for as long as I can remember!” she exclaims while hugging the side of his head and rubbing their cheeks together like an affectionate cat. “Anyways Mr. Boogeyman, why are you here?” she asks, putting a finger to her bottom lip with a tilt of her head.

‘Disturbingly lifelike,’ I think, but keep enough of my senses not to flinch.

John ruffles her hair, much to Yachiru’s pouting displeasure, butting in to say, “He’s here to help us, he’s informed me of a few things that will help us in the future, why don’t you see if Zecora has any snacks?”

She gasps, eyes going wide with a smile to rival it. “Ok!” she cheers, leaping for the floor and racing towards to kitchen. “Nice meeting you Mr. Boogeyman!” she waves.

Once gone, John sighed, and, turning to me, said, “Do not let her know we fought while she was asleep, ok? If she finds out she will get really upset,” before walking over to the low table and taking a seat on the floor-cushion. “I don’t think there are any chairs here,” he shrugs, “but you can just use one of those pillows if you want.”

“I’m fine,” I state, snapping his fingers. A short, four-legged stool sanding up below me. I wasn’t about to take an uninvited seat. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell her anything.”

He smiles, looking relieved, “Thanks, last thing I want is her crying. By the way, that sand stuff of yours is convenient. I mean I might be powerful and all-”

‘Hmph, just give me a single night meat-bag.’

“-but that’s the thing, most of it is just raw power, but that” he pointed to the sand stool, “that’s cool.” Scratching his head, he began to unweave the bells from the tips of his hair. “Anyways, do you know anything else about those displaced you told me about? Maybe a way they could contact me?”

“Firstly, this,” I say, sweeping a hand to the small object below me, “comes at a cost. As near as I can tell it’s almost like an artificial intelligence, but rather than logic its bases its operating procedures on emotion, fear specifically. And,” I frown, a thin stream of sand winding up into my fingers, “if I begin to feel too much fear myself, it will physically harm me. But as for the latter,” I straighten up, “I can’t say that I do. They say you channel energy into something you want to represent you, and after that it supposedly multiplies and crosses numerous dimensions, and all without your express knowledge or ability to even control. And of those that I’ve seen, none of them appeared to have the power, let alone the knowledge of how to pull off such a feat. But,” I sigh, “I don’t suppose I’m one to talk, I don’t even know how I even have what is supposedly my token.”

“Interesting,” he mutters, scratching his chin, “so pretty much this whole displaced thing is just different cosplayers being thrown around the multiverse through different mediums, and end up summoning each other via a similar way they were brought here in the first place?” he actually asks aloud. “What? You got a problem or something with what I said?” he says, flashing that sickle grin up at me after I gave him what I can only hope was an incredulous look.

“No,” I say, my thoughts, scattered as the are for want of fear, bend under the new and growing weight of boredom, “I just think it’s a little weird you’re essentially repeating what I already told you while we were outside making the patch.”

“Well, you finally gave me the last piece of the puzzle, I just want to make sure I got my facts straight here.” He says, turning to the patter of Yachiru as she ran over to the table carrying a tray of pastries and candy followed closely by Zecora carrying a tea tray on her back.

I stand up, the stool disappearing.

Yachiru clapped the platter down, “Kenny look! Zecora gave me all these treats!” she beamed, scooching into his lap before unwrapping a cupcake.

Zecora, gracefully sliding the tray onto the table, grasped the kettle between her forehooves and started pouring into the simple green cups. “Now now little Yachiru,” she gently chastised, “not all of those snacks are for you.” Placing the kettle down, she pushed the cups to the four sides of the table before picking up her own, sipping off some of the red liquid’s steam.

Picking up his glass, John gulped down nearly half of its contents. Gasping at the heat, he let it sit for a moment before saying, “By the way Zecora you can drop the rhyming again, it shouldn’t hurt him to much now that he is healed. And sit the hell down Wayde, you're making a fool of yourself,” taking another, smaller sip of tea, as Yachiru moved on to her third cupcake.

“Thank you for the tea, Miss Zecora,” I nod to her, ignoring the lummox.

“He’s is right you know, you are making quite the fool of yourself, proper manners are important, but you are far from an uninvited guest, after all, you are my patient,” she smiles, taking a sip of her tea, closing her eyes, and humming appreciatively at the taste.

“Than-” I mumble. ‘Jesus, did being called a fool really hit me that hard?’ Closing my eyes, what felt like a room full of headache suddenly washed over me. I felt so tiny, like a little black circle in a room of white. When the headache started to fade at that simple thought, I opened my eyes. Shaking my head, I looked down, and found shadows covering the rest of me. “Um,” I coughed, the last of the headache fading, ‘Drop the rhyming? Jesus.’ I nodded to Zecora, “Thank you?” and wobbled, slightly, my way to the table, pulling the shadows even more tightly around me as I sat cross-legged upon the table cushion before trying to reach for one of the pastries, only to grab air.

Looking over to Yachiru, I found the remaining eight cupcake wrappers and a nearly completed pile of caramel candy wrappers beside it. ‘Ah.’ John merely chuckled at her childish antics, going so far as to snatch the caramel she was about to throw in her mouth and eating it himself.

“Kenny!” Yachiru wined, “That was mine!” lightly beating on his chest, her vain attack soon ending as John enveloped her in a bear hug.

“If you want something on that plate there Wayde I’d get it now!” he laughed, now wrestling with the small girl.

‘Absurd,’ I found myself smiling, but grabbing three caramels anyway before unwrapping them in quick succession and dropping them into my tea and stirring them into the steaming cup.

“Got a sweet tooth yourself, huh?” John smirked.

I take a quick sip, coughing, it’s still too bitter, “Something like that,” I grin, “But, about the help you mentioned earlier,” I say, letting the smile fall easily away, this wasn’t just a social visit after all, “what exactly did you want?”

“Well you already gave me it really,” he grunts, trying and get out of a ‘headlock’ without hurting Yachiru, “I really just wanted some answers as to why this all was happening, and why I’m here.” Turning the tables on the pink haired menace, he starts to tickle her, “But there is one more thing you could help me with- I got you now you little brat!”

“Then please be quick about it,” I state, trying to keep my tone. “It’s bad enough I have to frighten the people of one universe to stay alive, so I don’t relish the thought of doing it in another for very long.”

“Well that’s the thing- ouch! Damn it, why the hell did you bite me!? See” he grunted, “that black horse thing with a horn and wings over there?” pointing over to the small enclave, a nook really, on the other side of the room while trying to peel the pink piranha off his hand, “If you could do one last thing for me, can you check her mental state for me? I can’t have someone basically brain dead following me around, they might get hurt if- dammit that hurts, why did you bite my nose!” He yells in mock anger, much to Yachiru’s giggling joy, “Well I think you understand what I mean.”

I did. Though I take a less than wild guess and say he didn’t.

“I don’t think giving her a scare is a good idea,” I frowned, eyes narrowing, “and isn’t the fine doctor beside us more qualified for such work?” nodding to Zecora.

“I can only do so much I’m afraid. She has not moved from her current position since yesterday. I can check on and heal her body, but I cannot check on her mind.” Zecora replies, her gaze falling to the cup she is turning upon the table.

“I can only give her bad dreams, but,” I say, looking Zecora directly in the eyes, making sure she understands, “if you think it would do any good, I will do it.”

Zecora nods, there isn’t any hesitation “It would, it would set me at ease knowing she is healed, in both body and mind.”

“It would put me at ease too,” John says, ignoring Yachiru’s renewed attempts to devour the tray of its sweets, “I don’t know what that rainbow beam did to Nightmare over there, but whatever it was, it didn’t want here to live through it. I,” he sighs, staring back at me, “I wasn’t about to let a good opponent die.”

Remaining silent, my mind already made, I stood up, striding to the other room, and the shadows follow even as the others trailed silently behind, keeping their distance.

Taking a breath, sitting at the head of the cot, I gazed over the small black mare. The blankets covered most of her body, but I could still make out the two lumps at her sides that signified wings, and the horn atop her head, short though it was, wasn't an easy miss. Even so, I was already certain of who, or rather what, this really is, though I couldn't imagine how it was possible. Bringing my hands forward, I stopped just a few inches from her skull. ‘Just like with Luna,’ I exhaled, letting the nightmare sand slowly wisp out of the shadows around me and netting them around and into Nightmare’s head.

Connecting with her, there was nothing but a weary darkness, but her fears still sing to me, and I let it flow, a bright, full moon blooming suddenly in the dark. The glowing prison that held her for so long. She doesn’t like it. And, tired as she is, a new rush fear surged weakly through her, giving her strength enough to let out a tiny gasp of sound out in the real world, to say nothing of her dream self as she begins to run from the clinking of the midnight chains coming from on high to re-ensnare her. Her eyes scrunch close and she wraps her wings tighter against herself, pulling the blankets tighter. “Nooo. Please don’t send me back,” she whispers in a groan.

‘That’s enough,’ I think, the scent of her intoxicating enough as was is, and so close.

Not trusting my balance to my legs in my growing hunger, I fade into shadow, sweeping past the lot of them, bunched into the doorway, and back to my seat, rising up from the cushion. “She’s healthy enough to have a nightmare it seems,” I say, gulping my tea and focusing on how nearly burning hot and sweet it is rather than how close I'd been to simply eating her. “How exactly did you manage to make a living nightmare anyway?”

John shrugs, again, taking another long pull at the tea he’d brought with him, “I just jumped in and saved her from some frickin’ rainbow beam caused by six ponies’. I don’t know how she appeared and why that smaller blue horse was in her place, but all I know is I did what was right at the time.” They all move back, and, sitting down, “What exactly did you see in there?” he asks, trying to look into his eyes, “What does she fear?”

I didn’t like the intimating tone, but I answered for Zecora’s sake. “The moon, which I made. She wasn’t doing all that much dreaming. And as for fear, that would be you,” I glance at him, not that Mr. Breath’s Largely Without Organs should be surprised by that, “and being forced back into Luna just to be stuffed with all her negative emotions again …” I bite my tongue, and almost say how delicious she is too, how hungry the nightmare makes me, but busy myself with refilling my cup.

“Well,” he stands up, cracking his back, “thanks for the help man, you really put my mind at ease for now,” walking over to slam his oversized hand into my back, laughing as he forces me down, almost into the table, “Sorry about the mishap earlier, didn’t mean to spook ya! With you showing up out of nowhere, I didn’t have on any clothes, you startled me!” he winks, bringing his head down between me and Yachiru, finally drinking her tea now that all everything else is gone.

I stand up deliberately, coming up to just a little bit past his waist, but the sand circled under me, raising me on a pillar until I was at eye level. “I can’t say I would have reacted any differently in front of my own daughter either,” I say, putting a hand out to him. Even if he was a nutter, he was at least a consistent one who cared for things beyond himself.

Remaining silent, in a single swift move, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a headlock, giving me a noogie. “You better visit you stone skinned bastard!” he laughs, but, painful as it is, a snort of laughter escapes me, and immediately begin to smooth my hair back down when he lets me go. “Guess it’s time to send you bac-”

“Wait!” Yachiru yells, running back into the room, carrying two wooden looking placards. Coming up to us both, she hands us one each. On closer inspection, the small rectangle has a plus sign over a minus sign in what looks like professional ink at the top with a long ways black diamond at the bottom gleaming with four-pointed stars. “I heard you two talk about those token thingies, and them being a way to meet new people! So I made these! One for Ken-chan to give away to that void thingy, and one for Mr. Boogeyman! I made it special for you, it has your face on the back!” she beams.

Flipping the thing over, in the same black ink, but now, with child-like skill I see a poor facsimile of myself, a large triangle topped with a circle with octopus’s lips and a connecting speech bubble reading ‘BOO!’, strangely in the professional style lettering as the front’s symbols, and a slightly better drawn version of Yachiru, as she sports hair and a smile that takes up half of her face standing beside me. And the, to make matters worse, she then jumped up and hugged me. “I’ll miss you Mr. Boogeyman.” she said sweetly.

‘That’s not fair.’ I gasped quietly. I was not ready for something like that, like the little ankle biter might genuinely care about me, if only a little bit.

“Thank you,” I eventually said, “This is very well done. I’ll make sure to keep it safe,” and slid it into one of my jacket’s inner pockets, Yachiru’s blushing smile only growing wider.

Roping me out of my thoughts, John pulled me in, his left arm yanking me by the neck to show off his own wood block, “Oi, softy, want to see me send this out before you go?” he asks gruffly, smiling down at me.

Not having much of a choice, I nod, giving a small smile in return.

Releasing me, he takes a few steps back and, staring at the wood block outstretch before him, pauses, allowing Yachiru to climb on top of his head, then said, “To whoever is in possession of this badge, I would like for you to know that if you plan to call upon me you better be ready for a fight.”

“You betcha! Or you should be ready to have fun!” Yachiru adds.

“What’s the difference?”

“True, anyway I’m Yachiru Kusajishi I hope we become friends!”

“And I’m Kenpachi Zaraki, I hope we get to know each other well, I can be the best of allies-”

“Or your worst nightmare!” Yachiru grinned, placing her hand on the woodblock, the letter beginning to glow with shimmering pink and yellow light, “Me and Ken-chan can’t wait to meet you, call if you need some help ok?”

At that moment a darkness bloomed in front of them, swirling with the most elegantly beautiful shades of darkness I had ever seen. With a nod from Yachiru, they both tossed the wood block into the dark flower, and it disappeared without so much as a ripple. Looking down, something in near my chest feeling warmer, I saw my own wood block briefly glow before going out with a sort of fizzling sound.

‘What the hell happened to my precious rules?’ I think forlornly.

Yachiru then jumped down as John began to sigh, scratching the back of his head, “Now that that’s done, we can send you off on your way Wayde, just need to find your token, where did I put it?” he says, walking in a small circle.

“You mean this thing?” asks Yachiru pulling out a familiar orb of golden sand from her large sleeves.

“Yep, that’s it.” He nodded, reaching down to pluck it from her outstretch hands, abut flinching when it starts to wriggle in her grasp for a few moments before becoming still once more. “Weird… anyways,” he says, picking it up, “Wayde if you ever need something, you know what to do, right?”

I look up at him, silently peering into his eyes. As poorly as things had turned out … again, maybe this guy wasn’t … completely without character. And, looking briefly down at the new lump in my jacket, I looked John back in the eye and said, “Thank you.”

My response seemed to please him, and he smile. “Alright then, I guess I just say something and you go?”

I nod, I’d told him this before.

“Ok, Wayde, you have completed your task here,” he says as I hear the swirling circle of sand hushing behind me, “Now get the hell out!” he yells with a laugh, thrusting me backwards into the swirling mess.

“God,” I sigh, “Whatever.”

Author's Notes:

Crossover w/ "ARE YOU INSANE!!!"
Got a decent grip on that pow-pow action style I like.

Yeah, been a bit, but, if it helps, I've been re-editing past chapters on and off, have (( )) to signify over regular ( ). Don't have to reread, it's got the same basic beat by beat play, just makin' it so it's a bit more on the mental side and less on the whinging.

(18)

Catching myself on my knees, the the familiar populace’s fears and belief surged through me, lengthening bones and stretching my skin to a healthy plumpness.

“and- Oh hi Wayde,” Pinkamena waved with a smile.

‘An instant? I was gone for an instant?’ I smiled, waving back to Pinkamena as I tried to dust off the footprint on my jacket with my free hand. I wasn’t in danger of dying now that more than just a handful of people knew who I was. I finally had enough breathing space to … think.

“Whoa, what’s with the frowny face?”

“Yeah, what’s the deal?” Ms. Dash asked, her voice fading into the back ground.

‘Again. Again, I was stolen from finding a cure by some …’

I turn on my heel, glaring at the two orga- ponies beside me. ‘And here they are, still stuck with me leeching off of them. Putting them in danger. My first lead, and I want to send them into a swamp where so much as a single hydra proved too much for Twilight.’

“Ooo, my shadow’s going all wiggly! An- yuh-oh,” Pinkamena mumbled, but I was already ducking out of Sugarcube Corner

Out on the empty patio, I took a breath. Looking up, what escaped my throat sounded more like a yawning roar, but I ignored the distraction, focusing on calling the nightmares. All of them.

Their fluttering wings echoed through what dim shadows the alleys could make in the middle of the day. From under the flimsiest shadows they flocked, up, into the air. Butterflies no bigger than my palm spiraled around me in a twisting, chaotic storm, but all of them keeping their distance.

Opening my mouth, they froze. “You will go out into the swamp, and you will tell everything with a face that The Boogeyman,” I thumped my chest, “seeks an audience with The Bog King. And if anything attempts to hinder your flight, let them.” It did me more good for others to think I had an infinitely spawning army of insects, but these puppets didn’t need to hear that. But, when they still hung frozen in the air, I nearly bit my tongue at their collective stupidity. “GO!”

They jumped, swiping into one another like a cloud trying to tear itself apart as they rose into the air, wheeling around until they found their mark, and made for the swamp. Only then did I notice the screams.

Looking down, ponies were stampeding every which way through town, but towards me, except for a glowing line of purple ligh-

Ducking into shadow, the light flashed in a violet orb above me, revealing Ms. Sparkle, her wings extended in a poor attempt to increase her diminutive stature, but even with her wings it only came up to about my chest. Not that it mattered. She could do just about anything and still be intimidating from the sheer amount of magical power she wielded, but I still had work to do. Stepping back up into the world a few feet away from her, a thin stream of sand now flowing from under my feet and twisting into another messenger, either from fear now blazing through the town or from messengers who were already disappearing.

“Wayde, what are you doing?” Ms. Sparkle asked, eyes wide.

“Finding a cure,” I said, pointing south to the bog as straggler nightmares flew to my command.

“I know you’re upset, but this isn’t right. You’re scaring everypony, and if you don’t stop I’ll-”

“You’ll what,” I dared, towering over the small, insignificant pony, stepping closer. “Will you banish me to another dimension, away from my family or the friends I can count on two fingers? Or perhaps,” I sneered, her ears turning onto her skull, “you’ll curse me to a body that requires others to be afraid of me or else I’ll die? Or maybe,” she flinched back as I took another step, “you’ll grant me the power to fold dreams into reality, but with the genie-like catch that if I feel too much fear myself they’ll tear into my skin, and all while every last one of you filthy organics scream your fears into my head. Is that what you’ll do? Well?”

I waited, my frustration, my anger, my shame burning in my chest. Why wouldn’t they do something about me. A stun spell, a sleep spell, anything. I was a creature of nightmare, and they kept treating me with so much … mercy. It was disgu-

“You know,” a snarky, elderly male voice called from on high, “I was just having tea when a cloud of nasty little bugs flew over my dear friend Fluttershy’s cozy little cottage.” The sound of bubble-wrap popping echoed through the empty square, and just like that, Discord was beside Ms. Sparkle, his lion’s paw draped over her wings as his eagle claw flipped open a brown, leather wallet, pictures of Fluttershy and him drinking tea, laughing, and one of her giving him a stern look as he held Angel Bunny behind his back dropping out in a line in front of her face, “We’re friends you know. Best friends. And oh,” he flipped the wallet back up, stuffing it inside his chest hair like a vest, “I love the way you’ve got all the shadows dancing about. Is it Nightmare Night already?” He paused, looking at a calendar that had puffed into his claws, “No,” he mumbled, “that’s not for a bit.”

“Discord,” Twilight warned in a low tone, “you better not be up to anything.”

“Look,” Discord rolled his eyes, “normally I’d love nothing more than to play coy and push your buttons, but Fluttershy keeps a pretty tight schedule … and I’m not allowed to stay after tea to help feed the animals for another three weeks,” mumbling the last bit, “So, if you can’t keep your little prisoner in line then I will.”

“What? He,” Ms. Sparkle spluttered, “He’s not a prisoner, he-”

“Fine,” Discord sighed, snapping his talon, an invisible force hooking me into the air by my armpits. “We’ll be at Fluttershy’s. Au revoir.” And then, with another snap of his talon, the force released me, landing me on a thick cushion of emerald green grass.

Blinking at the sudden, stomach churning change in scenery as I tried to get my bearings, Discord squeezed my head between the two left-most digits of his lion paw and he lowered his face to mine.

“Look, we’re behind Fluttershy’s cottage,” he said twisting my head back enough to see the thatched, mossy greenery of her roof in the corner of my eye before twisting me back. “So, you can keep on making those bugs or whatever. Just keep it,” he moved aside, “under the treetops so she doesn’t catch anything from her kitchen window when she goes back to get ME a second helping of her delicious crumpets,” he sighed, drooling a little before mashing his face into mine, “Got It!”

“Yes sir,” I nodded, and that was good enough for him because the next instant he was gone, leaving a dust-cloud in his shape to give me one last stare before it too vanished.

Alone, but for the now, always buzzing data-stream of fear wheeling about inside my head, I slowly crossed my legs, and, cupping my hands in my lap, let what dregs of sand I could call begin to trickle in, twisting slowly until there would be enough for it to fly away, leaving what little room left in my head to fill in with my own thoughts.

***

“Ugh,” Rainbow Dash groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, zipping her way to Fluttershy’s house for ‘reconnaissance’. Having just woken up, thanks to Twilight, who had gotten it into her bloated, egg-like head to wake her up first rather than teleporting to everypony else simply because the cloud she’d been power-napping on had floated overhead. Equestria really had better be in trouble or else a certain recently crowned princess was going to have to answer for cutting into the training schedule of an elite Wonderbolt.

Still, Dash conceded silently, if anypony could make world ending trouble on a sudden whim, it was Discord.

Clearing the tree line, she grimaced. Bunnies, bears, snakes, squirrels, and even a small manticore wearing a white cone around its neck were shivering in a huddled circle in Fluttershy’s front lawn, and once she was beyond the reflected glare from the stream running down the property line, she also saw all the fish schooling in the same area too. But, just before she was about to dive through the window and stop whatever chaos Discord had gotten Wayde into, she saw the skinny guy sitting in Flutter’s backyard, just at the edge by the forest. All the shadows looked fine, but that still didn’t mean he hadn’t done anything to Fluttershy’s animals.

Cracking her neck in two swift movements, she angled on an updraft and then dove for the human, ready to give him a taste of her famous left-hook, well, it was going to be famous … eventually, if he didn’t stop it that is.

“What the hay is going?” she squinted down at him, keeping herself just high enough in to still keep a head above him if he stood up.

“I’ve been making messengers,” Wayde replied dully, a razor winged, black sand butterfly flittering out from his hand and into the gloom of the trees beyond, “and Discord didn’t like how they scared Ms. Fluttershy when they flew over her house, so he brought me here. My apologies for the inconvenience my thoughtless actions have caused.”

“Uhh,” Dash flapped a few wingbeats back, not liking the dull monotone, “you okay?”

“No,” he muttered in the same bored tone one might dismiss having breadsticks added to their pizza order, “That last trip to another of your worlds was decidedly rough, and I worry my empathy for the short time I believed I had killed that displaced monster means that I am coward deep down. What’s more, given what I have seen of 'The Displaced', I also worry that my powers will drive me to some sort of psychosis, be it some degenerative form of autism or megamaniacal sociopathy. And worst of all, whether or not my mental faculties begin to fail me or not, I’ll still be leeching off of you all for housing during my internment. Which leaves me here, trying as desperately as I can manage to find a cure for myself and get back home so I can stop being your problem.”

“I, uhh …”

“Oh, but listen to me prattle on as though real people should concern themselves with my goings on,” he sighed, chuckling quietly, “Terribly sorry, sorrow tends to make me a bit chatty.”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight called out from the front yard.

“Ohpraisethesun,” she breathed, flapping up into the air. “I’m back here,” she shouted back.

A bubble of purple energy popped beside the two of them, as Twilight, Pinkie, Applejack, and Rarity blinked the light from their eyes.

Acting first, Twilight stepped forward and asked, “Rainbow Dash, we saw the animals out front, what’s going on?”

“Yeeee-ah, still tryin’ to figure that one out,” Rainbow said, giving an odd, side-ways glance to Wayde, flapping closer to her friends.

“Wayde?” Twilight asked, taking a tentative step towards the human. She and her friends had turned grey when Discord had changed them, so it was anypony’s best guess if Wayde had been changed or not.

“You needn’t fear Ms. Sparkle, Discord hasn’t done anything to my mind. He really did just want to keep the bugs, which sent the town of Ponyville into hiding as you'll recall, from flying over Ms. Fluttershy’s house. And again, I’m sorry for that, I was being emotional and allowed it to get the better of me.”

“Wayde!” came an echoed shout from the front of the house.

Everyone froze, not quite believing the angry voice they'd heard. It couldn’t have been, but there was no mistaking it. It was Fluttershy.

A pink and yellow streak arced over the house, a snort of hot air venting from her nostrils as she came to a stop inches from the grey man’s face, and, forehooves crossed, said, “What makes you think you can just scare innocent creatures like that?”

“I didn’t” Wayde said quickly, looking up, his words chocking back into his throat as he was met with the full force of what Ponnyville simply knew as The Stare, his skin going ghostly pale.

Fluttershy squinted, increasing The Stare’s focus. “Now I know that nopony would do anything like this if they weren’t upset,” she said in firm, motherly tone, “but that’s no excuse to take it out on Beary or his friends, especially when one is still in recovery. So, you had better make things right and apologize to them for scaring them so bad.”

Wayde just sat there, staring back, silently, the air thickening in the silence.

Nopony had ever stood under Fluttershy’s Stare like this without some sort of pleading, acceptance, or … something.

Another string of silent moments crossed again, and then, Wayde stood up.

Skin flushed, tears of embarrassment hot in his eyes, voice cracking at the edges, he said, “I didn’t do anything to your stupid animals. Just like I didn’t ask to work with half a brain every God damn time one of those mind-numbing Displaced starve me of fear. And especially how I didn’t Ask,” his fist shaking around a thickening ball of nightmare sand, “for these stupid POWERS!” Eyes wide, tearing them from Fluttershy’s, he hurled the ball into the woods, and then fell into a heap as it bounced off a tree and into his face, shattering.

***

I gasped for air, sand spiking along my legs, catching in the blankets atop me. I had to get off my back.

They’re going to eat me!

But … they weren’t … here?

Gulping for air, the presence of reality began filling into my thoughts as the the last of my own nightmare ebbed away, my sand still picking at my legs to remind me of my weakness. Wincing at the golden light from the window, my own fears were pushed aside as those Ms. Fluttershy, Pinkamena, Ms. Dash, Ms. Sparkle, and …

Tossing the blankets aside, glad of the relatively high roof and ignoring the head rush from my sudden movement, I lowered my head and said, “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to ruin your day sir.”

“Hmmph,” Discord scoffed, scratching the back of his neck. “A rather high opinion of yourself if you think you can ruin my day.”

“What?” Ms. Dash nearly squawked, “you knock yourself out with one of your own sand balls, have Twilight carry you in with her magic as Fluttershy tries to make sure you don’t have a head injury, and the first thing you do is suck up to this, this… ugh, you know what forget it. Twilight can handle this. I’m gonna go fly,” and winged out the nearest open window, spilling the seeds of hanging birdfeeder in her wind-wake.

“I um,” Fluttershy hummed, breaking past the others, hair covering half her face, “I wanted to apologize too. I,” she rubbed the back of her foreleg, “talked things over with the animals, and they said you made them feel scared. Not that you did anything to them, most of them didn’t even see you, but they said they felt scared anyway, and, I … I think your very presence just scares them. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” I sighed as a new facet of my existence added itself to the wonders of my super-powered life. “I’m sorry too.”

The silence grew for a few moments, and then, “Look,” Ms. Sparkle said bringing a hoof to her nose, “before thing’s get a chance to escalate again, let’s just call this a day, and see about penciling a fresh start tomorrow. We can do breakfast, set a few ground rules, and figure out a plan for the foreseeable future. Sound good?”

“Ooo. Yeah! I can come over and help Spike make pancakes. What do you want strawberry or blueberry? Well wait,” Pinkamena said turning to face me, “do you even like pancakes? You said you don’t really like cakes so?”

“Pancakes are just fine,” I smiled, a small part of me writhing at the thought of someone going to the trouble to cook for me. Part of Ms. Sparkles rules had better include some form of chores or work in compensation for all this.

“Oh goody,” Discord cheered, a sleeping cap suddenly adorning his head, “I love freshly made pancakes in the morning. I like mine poached. So mind you don’t break ‘em,” and vanished with an echo of laughter before Ms. Sparkle could form a reply.

Twilight sighed then said, “Well, at least he let me know he was going to show up. So, that’s an improvement, right?”

Pinkamena and Ms. Fluttershy only response was to look briefly at each other before shrugging at Ms. Sparkle.

“Yeah,” Ms. Sparkle smiled tiredly, “figured as much.”

Author's Notes:

I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter.

(19)

Throwing the covers aside, I sat up gasping.

That small boy. That colt In Canterlot!

‘I can bring things, people, in with me!’

This was great! I mean, I didn’t lose my clothes when I dove into darkness so … if I could bring in people, then, even with the threat of being sucked into another world at any time, I had something I could do to earn money, some real money. To not be a leech. But first, I had to make myself presentable for whatever punishment I was going to receive this morning.

***

I was only halfway through laying out my clothes to dry, grateful for the cordless hairdryer but still trying, unsuccessfully, to not think about the squarish indentions along the rubber coated handle, when I felt it, or rather, didn’t feel it. For the last thirty odd minutes I’d felt the fears of Ms. Sparkle and her friends as they made their way into the castle, but now they were … gone. That in and of itself wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. After all, Ms. Sparkle could teleport quite readily, though I’d never actually seen her teleport multiple ponies at once in the show or comics, just herself. Perhaps she could, but then, why now? Had Discord arrived and done it? I certainly hadn’t made a very good impression on him, so some sort of joke at my expense wasn’t out of the question. But, Ms. Fluttershy might have something to say about that.

No, I frowned, this wasn’t right. Especially considering it had come on like a wave, washing away any trace of fear in the castle, each of them disappearing one at a time, even Spike.

Pulling on my still slightly damp clothes with a silent, uncomfortable groan, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I was certainly looking healthy again. Enough meat on my bones, at least. In fact, I could even half-imagine I was still just me. Still just fresh from applying grey skin paint. The colored contacts would have been new, though the illusion was ruined when I caught sight of the stone-grey teeth between my cracked lips in the mirror.

Leaving the bathroom, I made for the door. Which, much to my unsurprised surprise, was locked. They had always come to get me before I left the room now that I thought about it, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me. Something was wrong.

Sinking into shadow, I made for under the bed and drifted through the darkness into the quivering shadows of the ceiling above the tree-root chandelier the floor below. Looking down, I could see the signs of half eaten and even untouched breakfast plates. From scrambled eggs to towering stacks of waffles with syrup, and it was all still steaming fresh.

I thought immediately of sweeping through the town, the Everfree, Canterlot, and beyond. I even considered, early as it was, bothering Princess Luna and Celestia with my problem when the cutlery began to vanish. Piles of toast began to disappear from the great tray in the middle of the round map-table when some began reappearing on one of the plates encircling the table’s edge, covered in butter, fruit, or syrup, only to vanish again. A spoon here, a knife there reappearing for an instant before disappearing again. That’s when the plates and bowls began to disappear too, some popping in and out of reality around the rest of the table’s spread.

I sighed. It all made sense now. It was Discord, whatever this was. Though, I wasn’t quite sure what the joke behind partially animating a bunch of spoons and food was meant to-

“How can this be? I have but just come by. How can the ward’s oil have run so dry?”

Fear flooded back into the room as seven mares, a dragon, and Discord as well, came to my senses. The plates and the rest of the utensils that had been blinking away now reappearing and resting squarely in the hooves and magic of the surrounding people.

“Please tell me that was your doing,” I asked quickly, already down and stepping out of the wall. My world shrinking to the zebra shaman staring wide-eyed at the small, baseball sized glass sphere held within a diamond pattern of thin, ropy vines as Twilight spluttered into her glass of milk.

I was really quite surprised at how quickly I was able to duck the staff Ms. Zecora thrust through just above where my shoulders had been. I was much faster than I thought I was, let alone had any right to be.

“Spirt of fear,” Zecora declared, brandishing her wooden staff as the row of heavy, rune-etched discs strung around her neck glowed with a yellow light, “you will not come near!”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied quickly, stepping back towards the wall, hands held out as nonthreateningly as I could. I had to keep her here. I had to know how she masked their fear.

Everything went quiet, with no one moving so much as a muscle save for Zecora, her eyes flickering between myself, The Elements of Harmony, and Discord.

“What new trickery has the Spirit of Chaos made, if my dear pony friends now house a -”

“Shhh!” Discord hushed, holding up his his lion’s paw as he gazed down upon the table. “Look at this.”

Everyone, save myself and Zecora, who was still keeping her eyes on me, turned to the table, no doubt waiting for the holographic display to sparkle up and show what great friendship problem two of them would get to solve.

“Discord,” Ms. Sparkle frowned, a warning in her voice, the others sighing or groaning in turn as the table remained unchanged. Looking back towards the draconequus, they found he still held his gaze firmly upon the breakfast table.

“Ooo hoo hoo, I haven’t seen this bit in ages,” he chuckled, taping his clawed fingers together as he bent down, eye level, to the glass of orange juice at the side of Ms. Shy’s plate beside him.

Everyone leaned in, as, for once, the jovial prankster prince himself grew quiet and … waited.

There were no polka dots. No stripes. No anything. It was just an ordinary glass of orange juice, and then, it moved.

For a moment the surface of the juice had jiggled and then fell back quickly and smoothly into place.

The only noise came from Discord as he sucked in another quick breath of air in anticipation.

Then, again, the juice wiggled, though everyone’s ears flicked towards the door, though I couldn’t place why.

That’s when I felt the fear.

A single, massive, and deliciously spiking wave crashing in from the outskirts of the Everfree and flooding into the town, the tiny echoes of the oncoming screams drowning out briefly to the sound of a great and shaking *THOOM*

Everything not nailed to the floor shuddered.

Something big was coming, and no one had to wait long as a great, serpentine shadow slithered up the windows, darkening the sky. Plates clattered as the Elements rushed out the room and to the open balcony.

“Oh come now Zecora,” Discord’s voice spoke in the air above the two of us as twin spirals of silver light whirled beneath us, sweeping us off our feet and out onto the balcony bringing up the rear, much to Zecora’s glaring displeasure. “One piece of drama at a time. I’ve only got a single set of eyes just like everypony else too you know.”

*THOOM*

A deep chime echoed through the castle, the deep ‘roots’ of Ms. Sparkle’s tree absorbing the brunt of the oncoming footquakes, shaking her own home all the more as the sky above was filled almost entirely with by thick, brown scaled face of a hydra, red fins flaring at the sides of its face until the remaining two heads forced there way besides the lead, filling the rest of the sky and forcing the middle’s ear fins into folded position. The air warmed with rotted nostril breath, sending each of the ponies into a coughing fit that made me all the more glad of the small tornado surrounding me as the three heads gazed down at us, seeming to take each of us in measure before all three of them focused their gleaming yellow eyes on me.

The left most head slithered back up the middle’s nearest head-fin and, nipping at something behind and revealed a small, spherical, green parcel held delicately in the tip of its monstrous jaw, laying it softly upon the balcony floor.

The package peeled apart, the green wrappings folding aside like petals, as a single roll of midnight parchment, free of whatever God forsaken slime had managed to stick to the rest of the parcel. Picking up the scroll in a sheen of violet magic, and keeping it at a distance, a small circle of equally black wax flaked off and shattered as it hit the balcony floor. Thin white lettering gleamed across the page, Ms. Sparkle read:

To the Master of the Dusted Black Emperors,

Your request is to be granted, and are hereby commanded to clear your kaleidoscope from the King’s lands.

Should you ignore this, the continued molestation of the King’s subjects shall be interpreted as an act of war.

You are allowed a single retainer in accompaniment, and will follow His Majesty’s guard, who shall wait but an hour upon the reading of the proclamation before returning, with or without your personage.

“and that’s all it says,” Ms. Sparkle finished, squinting as she turned the paper over in the air, wings ruffling at her sides.

“Well, I hate to interrupt,” Ms. Shy whispered from behind the rest of the girls in the ensuing silence, “but, what are we going to do?”

“Yeah, and what’s up with that thing about some foalhood toy?” Ms. Dash added, eyeing the three-headed beast before flapping a few inches back beside Ms. Sparkle before landing. Her fears whispering how stupid even she thought trying to kick it in the snout was. Though, obviously, she’d never admit it.

“Well, firstly, a kaleidoscope is the official term for describing a group of butterflies, and given what Wayde tends to shape his nightmares as, it’s no wonder they were thought to be some species of Lepidoptera.” Ms. Sparkle answered, the chance to give a lesson knocking her out of her stupor. “As for what we do next, well, first, we contact Princess Celestia. Second,” she whirled, turning back to me, “you need to call back your nightmares before we have a war with a hitherto unknown kingdom with Equestria on our hooves.”

I nodded, snapping my fingers. “It’s done.” I said quickly, A shiver running up my spine as the, now, orderless nightmares began wisping up from my boots. All of them, all of Equestria could have been put on the chopping block because of me, but Ms. Sparkle was already turning towards her trusted assistant.

“Alright Spike, take letter.”

***

Standing beside me on a flat pane of nightmares, Ms. Sparkle continued to hold her gaze forward, my own bouncing across the tree-tops passing around us. I didn’t like how much it felt like lying by bringing her with me when she wasn’t an actual retainer. Heck, I wasn’t even a someone who had anyone in their employ, let alone a retainer. But, Celestia had decreed that of the options available, Princess Sparkle was the best one. The briefness of said message leaving much for Ms. Sparkle to desire.

Though, she, to her credit, was holding up rather well. She certainly didn’t look as afraid as I could feel she was, deep down. Though, the way her right ear kept twitching, trying to fold back in on itself every time one of the Hydra’s heads turned to make sure we were still following wasn’t doing her strained smile any favors.

“It’s not you.” I said quietly. The sudden noise sending Ms. Sparkles wings to nearly pop out.

“Ehem,” she coughed, regaining her composure. “wHAt’s not. I mean, what’s not your fault?” She asked turning her head, ears perking up.

“She's not looking back to try and intimidate you. She keeps looking back because she's afraid I’m going to eat her.” I explained quietly, not wanting to scare the poor girl by letting her overhear us. Rolling up my sleeves from the growing humidity. “In fact, each head holds a particular worry. The left one is afraid leap out and worm my way under their scales and eat their heart like some sort of parasite. The middle one thinks I'll just jump through an eye and eat one of their brains. The last, afraid that I'll someone just grow to the size of a giant and eat her outright.”

“But why would it … er, she, oh, right. Fluttershy’s.” Ms. Sparkle said, her polite smile falling as she bit her lower lip, ears flicking as another small insect whizzed by them. “But it’s so big,” she squinted, “in fact, it’s practically an alpha-predator here in the swamps.”

“I don’t get it either,” I sighed, consciously holding up my posture. “Guess I just get to scare all the animals of the world from now on. Another lovely secret of this costume revealed.”

“Sorry,” she winced, “but, well, why dress up as someone like that at all?”

“Because villains typically look cooler than heroes,” I answered bluntly. “Though,” I added hastily, not wanting whatever opinion she had of me to drop any further from some misconstruing of my sense of aesthetics, “I’ve never had that thought without the next one being how much better a hero they would make if they but worked for good.”

“That’ssss … interesting,” Ms. Sparkle said, tilting her head away from me.

‘Wonderful,’ I thought, clenching my jaw, and jamming my fists into my pockets before I wound up smacking myself in the head. Now she's going to think I have sociopath, or worse, a fanatic.

Staring down at my boots, the hydra still stomping away at the top of my periphery, it wasn’t until Ms. Sparkle sneezed that I looked back up. “God bless you,” I said on reflex. It was the polite thing to do after all, no matter the circumstance.

“Huh?” was all she said, rubbing a forehoof across her nose before I was lost in the surrounding view.

Where had all the mushrooms come from?

Author's Notes:

Been a while, hasn't it. Sorry about that. (ugh, hope that doesn't come off as too prideful)

And, oh, a 'kaleidoscope' is the official name for a grouping of butterflies for those who that wasn't clear for.

(20)

With a great sneeze, I was more than a little shocked to suddenly notice how blue everything was. In fact, I really should have noticed sooner. But all I could remember before this was the unpleasant way the sun did nothing to dry all the sweat that clung to me as I drifted behind that hydra in the swamp. The dampness was only worse now, and all I could see was blue. It was pale, and glowed like a clear, sickly sky. Up, down, left, right, everywhere, it was impossible to judge just how far it all went, or if it even if it covered anything. It looked so uniform, and smelt strangely of lemon.

Only the hydra, standing a few dozen yards away, necks fully extended up, gave the room any impression of height, and even that was only due to the number of thin, pale, red-glowing strands that had extended from the blue and onto the heads of the massive beast.

And then there was the fear.

My own, as ever, whispered silently to me from the sand that had now claimed the entirety of my legs from the knees down, clenching tight and beginning to creep higher thankfully, for once, because it put a few precious centimeters between me and the blue covering the floor. The fears of each of the hydra’s heads still called to me as clearly as Ms. Sparkle’s beside me, but all of that wasn’t even a close third compared to the fear that sang throughout the entirety of the room.

The very air was filled with life, and one fear. I was literally breathing them … it, in. Coating my lungs with each breath.

This. Was. Bad.

All of it, the whole room, was The Bog King.

With the flat out superhuman feats of your average pony on top of the magic they wielded, it just didn’t seem fair there were intelligent slime molds on top of it all. Worse, what little I actually knew about molds was related to how hard it was to get rid of a fungal infection, let alone an intelligent, magical one.

The hydra’s eyes, all of them, now glowed the same red as the filaments, and the central head craned down to look at me.

“You were allowed a single retainer to accompany you,” it said deliberately, its great voice thrumming up along its long throat, “and yet you have brought a princess of the equine tribe with you.”

Oh God.

Flashes of ants and spiders slowly climbing atop trees as snow-white fungi grew out of their joints sent an icy knife through the hand already clenching my heart. It was displeased, and the only comfort to that was the pressure of the sand which now grasped both of my legs entirely like some demented living fighter pilot pressure-suit. My eyes flicked to Princess Sparkle, only to find she was unconscious, her body depressing into the ‘carpet’.

Worse, it was right. I’d broken the rules of etiquette it had sent, but what could I have done? Come here and leave the ponies who were supposed to watch me without permission? I was already here in the heart of their kingdom, after having spread terror throughout their cities, and now was surrounded, in many cases literally less than a stone’s throw, by their greatest weapon.

“Well?” It asked, letting the condemnation hang in the air.

As much as I wanted to cough, to stick my fingers down my throat and claw away all the things I knew were sticking to my lungs, I kept my hands at my side and quietly said, “Wha-”

“Speak. Up.”

“What do you want?” I asked, nearly shouting, the words leaping from my throat.

“What I want,” they said, the left head snorting, “is for creatures to keep their word. And, as of yet, you have been doing a poor job of it.”

“I’m sor-”

“You had best say something of greater worth than ‘I’m sorry’ or this whole thing will end here and now.”

“How can I make it up to you?” I asked far more calmly that I felt.

The middle head cocked to the side before it and the others extended back to the roof. “A moment,” it stated simply, and the red strands retreated from the hyrda and back into the ceiling, turning it a solid blue once more.

The hyrda shook its heads, its eyes regaining focus, but otherwise remained where it stood, leaving me to stand like a lump with the useless knowledge of how much this sapient soggy carpet feared the sun drying it out.

I could still leave, I could probably even get Ms. Sparkle before the hydra could inhale enough to roar at me for daring to move. But would it make any difference to the spores in my lungs? Knocking us unconscious was already on the table, and really, it didn’t need much else. And at least death by starvation probably wouldn’t hurt at all at that point … if I was even capable of dying from lack of food that is.

Before thoughts of what really constituted my life now and how badly I wished I could get all of it and this nonsense to end in a nicely packaged twenty-two-minute period could consume me, however, the red tendrils came back down into the hydra’s heads. The red glow returned to its eyes, and then craned its chins down to stare at me.

“It has been decided, that in reparations for the insult of ignoring the specifications of the invitation, you shall be put to labor for one day, helping to rid us of the pests that attack our crops.”

Blinking, I tried to … say something, but the floor rushed up and …

I hate magic.

Author's Notes:

This chapter took a touch ... well, more than a touch longer than it really should have, and it's shorter than any I've ever done too. But, it felt appropriate given what happened here.