Chapter 1 - A Dream Remembered

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The wings spread across Owen's bed gleamed in the fading sunlight as he examined them with a meticulous eye. Wire, glue, and feathers had come together over weeks in his patient hands. It had taken many tries to get them just right. He'd begun with a single set of wires for each side, but it had looked weak with just one layer. It had taken three to do a proper job, with the marginal coverts and alural feathers along the top, the primary and secondary coverts in the middle, and the main secondary and primary feathers along the bottom.

The real challenge had been the feathers. No bird alive had teal feathers with white striations, and the supply stores he'd looked at online hadn't offered any, so he'd had to dye and paint them by hand. It had been a laborious task that he'd tackled with more discipline and focus than most things in his young life.

“So, this is the final result?” Tim asked from his spot by the door. Autumn sunlight slanted through the window across the orange jumpsuit of his patched-together Rebel Alliance Pilot costume. "The wings you saw in your dreams?"

"They're not quite right." Owen stopped fussing. No amount of adjustment would make it perfect. Some of them were frayed, and he wasn't sure how to fix that. He felt as though he should, but tracing that thought left him stranded in lost scraps of forgotten dreams.

Lifting it carefully, he slid his arms through the straps and settled it across his back. He didn’t have a mirror handy, but glancing to his sides as the feathers peeked out from behind gave him a faint thrill, even if it was a little off. "The colors aren’t there yet, but I guess I'm out of time."

"You're not kidding. It’s literally the day of. You've been at this for, like, forever." Tim took him in, eyes flicking up and down. "Is that really your whole costume? Your normal clothes and a pair of wings? At least get a white shirt or throw on a halo. If you're going to obsess over angel wings, maybe look the part?"

"They're not—!" Owen bit his cheek and looked away, staring out the window as a pigeon alighted on the fire escape's railing. "They're not angel wings. I'm not an angel in my dreams."

Ducking their head under a wing, the pigeon started preening their filthy feathers as best they could. It wasn't their fault, he knew. Pigeons only got that way living in places like this. The bird's gesture lit an ache inside him he couldn't quite explain.

"Maybe poke some of the spare feathers into your hoodie, then?" Tim poked through the bag of discarded feathers, mostly ones too badly off to use or with even more terrible dye jobs. "We'll say you're a tropical bird or something."

"I don't have feathers anywhere else," Owen said, feeling a little short. Tim was a friend in the sense that they hung out and shared similar interests, and that had rarely come clearer than at that moment. "This is really it. I'm not even wearing any—" He cut himself off quickly when Tim looked up, a flush rosying his cheeks.

"Not wearing any what?"

A knock came at the door. "Oi, losers, stop making out in there," his elder brother Jeremiah called and opened the door a crack, his oversized pirate hat squishing between it and the frame. "We going trick-or-treating or not?"

"Coming!" Owen called, grateful for once for his brother's lack of respect for his privacy. "Don't get your primaries in a bunch."

Both Tim and Jeremiah shot him weird looks, but he had caught his reflection in the television and his hand had gone thoughtfully to his ears, hidden behind his shaggy, dirty blonde hair. Considering that maybe Tim had been right about the incompleteness of the costume, he wondered if his friends Jaime and Aisha would have some costume ears he could borrow. They seemed to have a limitless supply of Halloween goods.

"Whatever, fairy. Let's go. If I'm going to chaperone your ugly faces around, I at least want to get it done quickly so I can go to a party."

"Yeah." Owen tore his eyes away from his wings. "Sure."

They passed through the living room, where their parents had already plowed through half a bottle together as they giggled on the couch, and they hadn't even left for their own adult party. If they said anything as they stepped out into the hall, Owen neither heard nor cared.

Aisha and Jaime Gaines, in fact, did have a selection of costume ears, and they came out with a bunch to try on while they waited in front of their house. It wasn't much of a place, just a tiny house with one story and a basement in a neighborhood with cracked roads and the Philadelphia skyline hidden by apartments across the street, but Owen loved it all the same. The little yard was packed with Halloween decorations, and even with the sky still bright kids walked past them to the doors where their father waited with a dinosaur costume to leap out and scare them before handing out candy.

To the sound of screams, Owen looked at the different headbands, passing floppy dog ears and elf ears and devil's horns without pause. In truth, none of them seemed right, but the cat ears felt closest, so he picked the tabby ones over the black and looked up at his friends.

"I have to say," Jaime said, a year older than his sister and just starting to sprout into the awkward stages, "the effect is remarkably cute, but I'm still not sure what you're supposed to be. Hey, though, I am all for it." Dressed as a vampire count in a handmade costume and cape, his smile contained a hint of fangs, and it was far more genuine than Tim's mocking half-smile.

"This is so goofy." Tim shook his head. "I'm embarrassed to even be near you freaks."

"Maybe some kind of flying cat?" Aisha, her dark face painted with whiskers, took the black ears back and settled them in her hair. "You gotta tell me more about these dreams. The same one every night for how long now?"

"Not a cat." Owen shook his head. "And like… I dunno, a while, and they're, uh, they're not the same. It's the same place, but I'm always doing something different, and there are people, some more, uhm, more recurring than others? Like real life, you see your family and friends a lot, but you're doing other stuff, too." He pulled at the base of his shirt awkwardly. "It's just in the last few months it's been easier to remember them, I think. Normally it just slips away like, like morning dew or something."

"Morning dew," Aisha and Jaime echoed together and laughed. "Jinx," she said.

Jaime rolled his eyes at her and laid a hand on his shoulder, grinning. "You're adorable, Owen, did I ever tell you that?"

Gazing up at his deep brown eyes and smiling face, Owen felt a snarky reply dry up in his throat, and he had to look away as his face burned right to his ears. "J-just about ten times. Knock it off." He gave him a push back. Not a hard one, not that he could have. His arms always felt weak after the dreams, but it seemed to linger more and more of late.

"Maybe you should keep a dream diary?" Aisha fixed her tail and adjusted her skirt. "I heard that's supposed to help."

"Owen!" Jeremiah called, heading over. A car had driven up to the curb with a bunch of teens while they stood around talking. "I'm heading out. Don't tell Mom and Dad."

"Hey!" Owen spun. He felt like his wings should have flared out dramatically, but they just swung awkwardly on his back. "Jerm, you're supposed to chaperone us! We can't be out at night on our own!"

"Don't be such a pussy. You’re like, twelve, you can handle yourself. Just because Mom is a control freak doesn't mean you need to let her turn you into a wuss." Jeremiah ruffled his hair so hard he knocked the ears away and vaulted into the back of the car. He pointed at him as they drove off. "Don't tell Mom and Dad!"

The teens laughed as they roared off, dodging a group of kids further down the street. Owen stared after him, coughing on the exhaust, and didn't notice Jaime until he felt the ears settle back on his head. He jumped a little and gaped up at him.

"Like I said: adorable."

Aisha glanced at the kids walking by and took Owen's hand. "Why don't we just pass? I mean, we can totally go on our own, but you don’t honestly seem like you’re all that into it right now. Our dad will call yours, say you're staying over for the night. We can stay up way too late watching dumb horror movies and eat leftover chili. You can take the couch."

"Well." Jaime laughed. "We can. I know you've gone vegetarian on us, but I think we got stuff for that, too."

"Hard pass." Tim threw his pillow sack over his shoulder and made his way down the overgrown sidewalk. "I'm going anyway. You dorks have fun at your lame ass party."

His blush not departing, Owen scratched at his arm and stared at the ground. "I'd really like that." He met their eyes. "I mean, really, really like that. Maybe, uhm, don't call my folks, though? If you do, you'll just get voicemail, and it's not like they aren't going to be passed out until noon tomorrow. They do every year. And occasionally on other holidays." He cleared his throat. "Also, uh, th-they wouldn't like me staying with you guys be-because…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish. It made him sick even to think about what his parents would say. It made him feel like scum for being related to him, as though he'd inherited a bitter bile that oozed through his veins.

"Because they’re racist?" Aisha asked pointedly, and he nodded, mute.

"Forget them, Owen." Jaime kept his hand on his shoulder and urged him to the door. "What they don't know won't hurt them. Or, more importantly, hurt you."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, letting Jaime tug him along without resistance.

"Like I said, forget them. They want to be stuck in the past, let them." He poked Owen in the chest after they reached the porch, with its hanging ghosts with eerie lights behind their eyes. "You just care about who you really are, got it? You're our friend, so you can stay here whenever you like."

"Whenever they aren't paying attention, anyway, which I wish they did more of the rest of the year," Owen murmured and touched his chest, as though he could still feel the touch. "They don't like me going out after dark, or anytime, really."

"Yeah, you gotta learn to buck back. Though, if you're gonna come around, just be careful." Aisha grinned wide, her slit-eyed contacts gleaming in the growing night. "People who stay at our house have a bad habit of getting… devoured!"

They leapt out of their way as a giant dinosaur sprang from the shadows, and Owen shrieked like a little girl.

Curled up hours later on a big, often-patched couch in the Gaines’ basement, eating the little candy their father couldn't give away and watching old movies, Owen felt like he was in heaven. A musty-smelling, basement version of heaven, but heaven all the same. It even had a big window set into the ground above that let the full moon's light cut a square over their instruments in the back, a drum set and bass guitar that had been rescued from some failed band their uncle had done sound work for, with curtains installed around their beds.

Despite—or, perhaps, because of—the vastly reduced quality of the fat CRT monitor perched on the dresser in the corner, something about the flickering haze of dying VHS tapes made the movies even more terrifying, and he found the siblings pressed tight on either side whenever a jump scare or piercing note cut through the night. It made him feel strangely at peace in a way he hadn't felt for a while in his parents’ apartment.

Jaime and Aisha had a habit of yelling at the characters on the screen, something else his family never would have tolerated. The urge bubbled up in him to ask them to let him listen at first, particularly since it was clear they’d seen all of these movies multiple times and so obviously knew what was going to happen. After a while, though, he found he no longer cared. Movies like Nightmare on Elm Street and Halloween III weren’t actually all that good, and when they played an actually scary movie on their laptop—Oculus—their hushed commentary was the line between him being scared-but-kinda-excited about it and scared-and-won’t-ever-sleep-again.

“Okay, my little creatures of the night,” their mother called down, back from her evening shift, “Time for ghoulies and goblins to get to bed.” She came and shut down the laptop, turned off the TV, and made sure the three of them brushed their teeth before laying out some pillows and a quilt on the couch for Owen. They didn’t even need to explain that he was staying the night, and he watched her work with a strange longing in his heart.

He couldn’t sleep as he lay there, watching the moon’s light slowly glide across the wings resting against the wall before closing his eyes. He wanted to dream, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find sleep. Restless, he shifted and turned, opening his eyes when the siblings knocked on the frame of the couch.

“Hey, Owen,” Jaime asked, sitting on the arm rest. “What’s eating you? It’s the witching hour, you know. Three o’clock. Dangerous time for winged cats or whatever you might be.”

“Worried about bad dreams?” Aisha crouched by the cushions. “I suppose it was probably a mistake to throw all those horror movies at you without proper conditioning. A few nightmares will do you good, though.”

“I don’t really have nightmares.” Owen pulled a pillow to his chest. “Never have.”

“Well, like my brother said, it’s the witching hour. It’s a magical time, the best time for talking about dreams. Maybe if you try, you can remember? I forget my dreams when I wake up, but, sometimes, especially when I’m drowsy and can’t sleep, I can pull them up again.”

“Might help to talk about it.” Jaime nodded.

A lump formed in his throat, and it had to be swallowed back down before any response was possible. “I can try, I guess. You guys are so nice. How’d you get this way?”

Jaime laughed, slapping his foot. “Come on, Owen. What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just…” He squirmed at the touch. “Whenever I’m dreaming, I feel… happy, and free, and clear. Whenever I’m awake, the world… it just wears me down. My parents, my brothers, school, all the things I see around town…” He flinched. “I feel shitty for saying that. I know you guys probably have to put up with a lot worse than I do.”

“Sure, but we’ve got two parents who love us and show it,” Aisha said. “That’s more than a lot of folks can say.”

“Our dad says, ‘You gotta carry your heart high when you’re wading through the worst parts of life. Don’t let it get weighed down, not when you’re in the thick. Hold tight to the things that matter, recharge and renew yourself when you’re somewhere safe, and it’ll carry you through.’” Jaime mimicked the deeper baritone of his father, ruined only slightly by a squeak in the middle. Owen pretended not to hear, though Aisha giggled.

“I dunno if I can do that. I… I guess… I don’t really have a safe place. This is the closest I’ve been in a long time, and I know that if my parents found out, they’d take me away.” Owen hugged the pillow more tightly. “That and my dreams, but I can’t remember much of them.”

“Well, maybe try what I said.” Aisha nudged his shoulder. “Go on. We wanna hear, right?”

Jaime nodded. “We’d be happy to hear if it’ll help.”

Surrendering to their relentless tag-teaming, Owen sighed and nodded, closing his eyes. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Taking deep, slow breaths, he focused on the feelings that were most relevant to him. The sense of air flowing over his wings, the warmth, the safety. “I’m… in the clouds,” he mumbled, his voice exhausted from the long day. “I’m flying, I think. No… no that’s not right.” His back twitched, and he shifted in place, losing it for a bit before finding the blue skies again with the clouds gleaming beneath the sun. “My wings are spread, the same wings as the ones I made but better, but I’m not the one flying. There’s someone beneath me. I’m standing on them, and they’re flying beneath me with wings that are a lot like mine, but a little different. Her striations have the same pattern, but the hue is a few shades darker. Teaching me, I think?”

A memory of a woman’s voice echoed through him. “She said, ‘That’s right! Just keep them up, like that. Feel the wind moving beneath them, pressing up gently? Just hold on tight and keep that pose.’”

“That’s sweet.” Aisha was a soft presence to the side of his head, a distraction, but not an unpleasant one. “Who was she? Do you know?”

Trying to cling to the thread, Owen relaxed his hands, ducking them under the sheets as they became numb. Aisha started to speak, but Jaime hushed her, watching. “I had my arms and legs wrapped around her back. I…” He swallowed, momentarily overwhelmed.

“It wasn’t hands and legs. It was legs and legs. Legs in front, legs in back.” He couldn’t speak for a moment, his heart slowing as his breathing evened. For a second, he could see the woman’s short, crimson hair in the wind. She banked, and he banked with her as best he could, clouds shifting to the left as they went right. “She didn’t have clothes on, neither of us did, but it didn’t matter, because we both had coats of… coats of fine hair. I could feel her muscles turning under her as she broke the air with her wings, and I knew I wanted nothing more than to be just like her. More than anything.”

“Your mother?” Aisha asked softly.

Like a key turning in a lock, something came undone in Owen. He mumbled incoherently, his grasp on the world around him fading fast. It was as though a pit had opened beneath him, a great, vast abyss of sleep that drew him down, down into some unknowable vastness.

Like a drowning person heaving for their first breaths, Owen came suddenly and sharply awake with a violent gasp. He stared around at his surroundings, unseeing for a few moments as though none of it made any sense. In a way, it didn’t—the high window had gone and been replaced by two covered in curtains, with only a faint peek of a full moon glowing through. Pictures, their figures indistinct in the poor lighting, clustered on a dresser, and others hung over the wallpaper. The room didn’t smell musty, it smelled of others, and her back lay not on a couch, but a bed that creaked with springs at her motion.

“Sweetheart?” a man’s voice groggily asked, and he froze in place. “Are you all right?”

A head moved above his, and he trembled in place at the strangeness of its shape, narrow and lean with a jutting darkness at the brow.

From his other side, great limbs rose and stretched, spreading impossibly large before shrinking back down to the sides of another figure. “What’s wrong? Arc Light burning the house down by accident again?” Her head craned in opposite the first. “Honey? What’s wrong? Bad dream?”

Owen couldn’t speak. He could only wheeze faintly.

Then light stung his eyes as something on the man lit up, and he was blinded further as lights clicked on. Limbs folded around him, and he found himself pressed close to a fluffy chest, one sea blue with white speckles. “Oh, stars, she’s trembling. Should we send for a doctor?” The woman’s voice ached with worry.

“Just give her a moment to calm down.”

Before Owen could gasp out a question, the woman folded one of her extra set of limbs around him, and he found himself cocooned in a soft wing with dark striations. It was in this instant that memory sparked. “Mom?” he croaked in a high, desperate tone.

“That’s right.” She opened the wing enough for him to see. “Right here, as always.”

They weren’t human. The man—the stallion, his father—floated a pair of glasses over with the horn jutting from his head glowing pale blue, and blinked away the light. Slender and slight, he cut a graceful figure with his single-toned, light magenta coat, a constellation picked out on his thighs. “Just take deep breaths, Light Breeze. You’re okay. You were having a bad dream is all.”

The name struck a chord so deep he—she—gasped. Like another key, it fit a lock she’d never known she’d had, and to her own sides she found a set of immature wings pulled in tight. Opening them was like unclenching a fist that had long been gripped shut, but she did, unfolding them to reveal the glorious patterns of teal and pale striations. Her coat was the same, speckled like her mother’s.

Stronger, with a short crimson mane and a long tail of equally vibrant red, her mother smiled and nipped at her ears. A school of leaping fish adorned her sides. “You heard your dad. Deep breaths, like we’re practicing to go up high.”

Light Breeze did, inhaling her parents’ scent and exhaling malaise and confusion. Each breath reminded her that she was herself, that the hooves pressing into the sheets belonged to her, and that she wasn’t far away on a couch in a basement with a pair of very nice, if peculiar, children.

That thought stuck with her too, though, as she pressed in against her mother. “I’m all right, I… I did just have a bad dream, but it wasn’t as bad as most. I was with some people I knew, and we’d been having a private Nightmare Night celebration. It was wonderful, one of the best days I could remember having. In the dreams, that is.”

Normally, by then, the details of her memories would run like water through her feathers, but not this time. “Their names were… Aisha and Jaime.”

Her name had been Owen, and the memory of the aching in his heart dwelled in hers, soothed only by her parents continuing to nuzzle and press at her. Minutes passed, and still the dream hadn’t faded.

“Those are peculiar names,” her mother said, clicking her tongue. “Foreign? Did you meet anyone from Saddle Arabia or Griffonstone lately?”

“No, they’re no one I’ve ever met. They’re only friends with me in the dream. I…” She frowned, concentrating. “I’ve dreamed of them before, quite a few times, I think. I’ve only just remembered clearly.”

“That’s probably because you were trying to.” Her father stroked her back with a hoof. “When you wake up, the short-term memories of your dreams won’t stick around unless you take effort to commit them to long-term memory. Sometimes, you can remember bits and pieces, but that’s usually it.”

“Still a nerd.” Her mother giggled and pushed him with a hoof, grinning. “All right, though, Light Breeze?”

“Y-yeah. I think I am.” She sniffed and nuzzled into them each in turn. “I feel like I’ve been missing you two for a long time, is all. That dream felt like it took all day.”

No matter what her father had said, not a little bit of it had faded as she woke. She tried not to dwell on it, but it didn’t help. Owen’s entire Nightmare Night—his Halloween—sprawled behind her in its intricate and sometimes awful details, from the bean burrito he’d contented himself with in the morning to the lovingly prepared salad that night, to the way he’d felt when his parents didn’t so much as comment on his wings, and to the circle of affection the strange siblings cast over him. It took no effort at all to imagine herself as Owen, to feel what he felt, and that terrified her more than anything.

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” her dad asked, cutting through her rambling thoughts.

Her legs seized at the thought of going back to sleep and facing those sensations again. Maybe he’d just stir in his sleep for a bit before going back to bed, but she didn’t want to risk it. “Uhm, uh, what time is it?”

Her father glanced over at a brass alarm clock on his side of the dresser, the two faces painted in a gentle shade of white and an especially dark shade of blue. “Six-ten. Well, I guess it is a little late to try and sleep in.”

“Speak for yourself.” Her mother yawned and fluffed a pillow. “I don’t gotta be up until eight. The river’ll keep until then.”

“Uh huh.” Her father’s horn lit up, and he scooped the pillow up just as she started to lay her chin down. “But it’s Tuesday, which means it’s your turn to make breakfast for the kids.”

“Oh, shoot.” She flushed, her wings puffing a little. “I’m sorry, love. I lost track of the days. I’ll get right on it.”

“I can do it!” Light Breeze sprang to her hooves and leapt off the bed. “I’m not such a little pony anymore! I’ll make breakfast, and Mom can stay in bed!”

Her parents exchanged glances before giving her looks equally charmed and alarmed. “That’s really nice of you to offer, Light Breeze, but it’s okay.” Her mother stretched her majestic wings and slid onto her hooves. “See? I’m up, and I’m a responsible mom and everything. Why don’t you go shower real quick, and breakfast will be ready for us like always?”

Light Breeze huffed, smiling, and fixed her mane after her mother ruffled it in passing. “Okay. I’ll go do that. See you both downstairs!”

She took off, heading into the bathroom she shared with her brother and propping herself up onto the low sink. Looking back at her was a filly, with the same two-toned red and blue mane, cropped at her chin that she’d always had, her eyes the same turquoise blue they had always been.

There was no sign of the miserable boy with his mop of yellowish hair, but Owen didn’t disappear from her memory, not even after her mother made breakfast and served it with her wings, not after Arc Light made fun of her awkward attempts to straighten her messy mane at the kitchen table, and not all the way through class and swimming in the crystal clear waters of the river afterwards to strengthen her wings further. Fillydelphia rambled along the hills, tree-lined, clean and beautiful, but around every corner she still expected to see a homeless person—an oxymoron if she’d ever heard one—or rubbish and disordered graffiti on the walls. She eyed a public safety officer like he might threaten her, and sat as far as possible on the tram home from him.

Like one of those horror films he’d watched, she seemed to carry a piece of him with her no matter where she went.

Light Breeze elected not to sleep with her parents that night, exhibiting an unusual streak of anxiety over a filly her age nesting with her folks, and closed the door to her room. Her bed, its frame ovoid, rested near her lone window, the moon’s silver light still full for the time being, but, for some reason, the thought of laying her head down there worried her. Still, she pushed aside her fear and curled up against the mists of her cloud mattress, hoping to dream for once of her upcoming flight practice in a week or so. It seemed a futile fear, as though she’d had these dreams many times before, and would be many times hence. She tried to be a good skeptic like her father and question whether or not her certainty was true.

Laying her head against her pillow, Light Breeze watched the moon’s progress across her floor until she could hold her eyes open no longer, her heart thundering. Its beats faded as her breathing evened out, wondering if the drop would come.

It did.

Chapter 2 - A Nightmare Revisited

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Opening her eyes that morning, Light Breeze luxuriated in the grogginess that followed her awakening. Few pegasi would pass up a chance to laze in that pleasant haze for as long as they possibly could. Certainly, the other tribes might deride them for sloth, but few of them spent most of their lives careening far above the ground for hours at a time, and no surface could beat a nice, well-packed cloud for comfort.

Weirdly, though, it seemed as though her cloud had developed a few lumps. This impossibility didn’t quite tease her out of her doze, but it flipped a few warning switches that wormed electric threads of worry through her nerves. Another troubling sensation was the smell. With her window open at all times, the first thing she noticed each morning were the scent of the flowers that her mother coaxed from the tree growing in their little backyard carried on the morning breeze, but what assaulted her nose were instead a faint must of dust and faint damp, and a faint whiff of exhaust in what little air did stir her mane.

It was her attempt to shift to take pressure off her wings that cut through all her attempts to relax, though. She bent and squirmed, kicking her hooves, and found something that snapped her eyes open.

She couldn’t feel her wings.

Her back twitched spasmodically as her eyes shot open. Lifting her head in panic, she cast about a starkly familiar basement, but in her fear she noticed nothing but her own grotesquely severed wings resting against a wall, and screamed.

A few paces away, the curtains shot open, and Jaime and Aisha scrambled from their beds. Roused out of a deep sleep, their groggy steps traced an awkward path across the carpet as they made their way in night clothes and nightgown respectively to the couch. Light Breeze, hyperventilating, had pulled the quilt up around herself as alien sensations assaulted her.

“Owen?” Jaime asked, worry burning the sleep from his voice. “Owen! Jesus, man. It’s okay.”

He shared a look with his little sister. Aisha hurried to Light Breeze’s side and put her arms around her. “It’s okay. I… holy shit, I don’t know what they’re doing to you over there, but it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Light Breeze would have begged to differ, but she could scarcely speak. Understanding crept into her as she forced herself to breathe more regularly, remembering the training her mother had given her to help survive in the event of climbing too high for even pegasi to live comfortably. That banished the spots from her eyes and gave her some desperately needed clarity. The wings weren’t hers; they were obvious if lovingly crafted forgeries, the kind a wingless pony might wear to pretend to be an alicorn in a play.

The dream had come alive, and she was in it, occupying Owen’s body.

“We need to talk with Dad,” Jaime muttered from over the top of the couch. “This is effed.”

“I’m… I’m…” Saying she was okay would have been a lie, and she wouldn’t be living up to Harmony very well if she did. “I can breathe.”

She exhaled a long breath and leaned into Aisha’s embrace.

“That’s—that’s good!” Aisha said. Her arms stiffened slightly as she rested her head on her shoulder. “Uh, Owen. What happened? Did you like… have a nightmare, or something?”

“I…” Light Breeze, sensing the hesitance, pulled back and slid down the quilt. She didn’t like looking at her weird forelegs or thinking about the things that capped them, and so she focused on the siblings. She and they were just as she’d witnessed in her dream the previous night, like someone had taken the primates she’d seen in the Fillydelphia Zoo and sanded off the rough edges, giving them the light of deeper intelligence of dragons or equines behind their eyes. That thought comforted her, if faintly—at least she could recognize some commonalities. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been cursed.”

“You’ve been… cursed?” Jaime asked, raising his brows at his sister. “Well… I mean, we’re not exactly opposed to the idea. We don't have anything magical going on that we, uh, know of, but our dad’s family has a psychic or two dangling off the tree, and if you shake the branches a minister or two will fall off, and everyone knows Mom’s roots go deep enough into Louisiana that some educated guesses can be made about their activities, but we know enough to be, uh…”

Aisha stepped in while he stretched for a diplomatic word. “What my big brother means to say is that lots of people think they are cursed, haunted, or possessed and might just be regular old distressed. Our folks say it’s always best to rule out all the normal causes like physical and mental health before you go tearing through the phone book for the local witch or exorcist.”

“Not that we’ve ever seen a phonebook outside of a movie, admittedly, nor know where to find one,” Jaime added, “but I’m sure it applies just as well if you replace ‘tearing through the phone book’ with ‘frantically googling.’ Point is, just because we believe magic is real doesn’t mean we need to throw out all of modern learning to get there.”

“What?” Light Breeze stared at them. “What are you talking about, believing magic is real? Of course it’s real. It’s literally the realest thing there is.” A quiet voice whispered within her that she ought not to assume that, a memory tickling at the back of her mind, but she pushed it down. “Everypony knows that.”

Belatedly, she recalled that some non-ponies out there objected to the Equestrian usage of the word in mixed company, and her fears were confirmed as their eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, what did you just say? Every-what?”

Light Breeze shrank back a little, pulling up her weird, hairless legs. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give offense. Every, uhm… person? Child of Harmony?”

Jaime’s minotaur-like hands settled on the back of the couch, and he stared at her and then at his sister. “My odds on ‘possession’ just ticked up another few points.”

“Owen, if you’re playing us, now is the time to come clean.” Aisha’s frown creased deeper.

“M-my name isn’t Owen.” Except it could be. “It’s Light Breeze. I’m… I’m not supposed to be this way. I… I’m sorry if I’m possessing your friend. I don’t mean to. I’m really scared right now, and I’m kind of freaking out, because this isn’t where I was when I went to sleep, and I feel like I’m in the wrong body, and I’m pretty sure that this is one of the dreams I’ve been having, but it feels so real that I’m really scared. I’m completely lucid, but it’s not dreamlike at all. I feel like you two are…”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. Like they were real, like she had glimmers of memory of them from her previous dreams, or even a familiarity that ran so much deeper.

"Look," she went on, pointing to the wings. "Those are what my wings look like, almost, except they're not in as good condition because my mom, River Wind, would never have let me walk out the door like that. They're also, uh, not dyed, that's close to my natural color. I'm a pegasus, not a… whatever you guys are. If I had to guess, I made—I mean Owen made those because of his dreams."

"Wait." Aisha took her arm. "You made them, or he made them?"

"I…" Her certainty faltered. She hadn't, she knew she hadn't, but she remembered doing it. "Owen did, not me."

"But you remember what he was dreaming about?"

"He was dreaming about me, and I was dreaming about him! Or I was him, or…" She groaned, overwhelmed, and held up her forelegs to her face. "I wish my dad was here…"

Jaime's conflicted face hurt. She didn't want him to think she was crazy. "We can call your dad, Owen."

"No! Not Owen's dad! My dad, Star Seeker. He's a unicorn. I know, it means my mom and I live on the ground, but we're pretty okay with it. And..." At their uncomprehending expressions, she trailed off again.

Aisha bit her lip. "Uh, do you mind if I have a quick discussion in private with my associate here?"

Hanging her head, she sighed. "Yeah, sure. I'm sorry. You guys look like you have just… no context, and you probably think I'm going discordant or something."

It took Aisha a moment to process that. "I think at the minimum you're distressed, maybe more, and we want to help you no matter what's going on. Right, Jaime?"

"Right." He reached over the couch to squeeze her withers, or the shoulders that were equivalent. "No judgement. If we're upset, it's only because we care and are worried. We're a very welcoming household."

Sniffling, with tears gathering in her eyes, Light Breeze bobbed her head. "I could tell from my last dream. You guys were so nice to… to Owen. Thank you."

Aisha squeezed her hand once, which was uncomfortable, before joining her brother at the curtains. "Just hang out for a moment."

While they closed the curtains and chatted back and forth quietly, Light Breeze hunched. Sitting normally felt uncomfortable, but more uncomfortable still was the sensation of having severed limbs. She could still feel them, like some ponies reported before they could get their limbs regrown, like some phantom of the original still lingered. Their spirit remembered; that's what her teacher had said.

Sitting still didn't feel right. Even trapped in this body, she was a pegasus, and they only had two modes: going or lazing, and discomfort made the latter impossible. She might have tried eavesdropping, but her ears were small and insensitive. Pushing off the bed, she wobbled on two legs, her other two legs—though, she supposed they were called arms in bipeds—held out for balance. There were other things going on with her body, things she didn't want to think about. She knew what colts and stallions had tucked away, but she was in no hurry to see one all that closely. Sex education had been terrifying enough. Along the way, she tumbled with a faint yelp, but her practice with her mother came into play once again as she tucked her body into a roll and just bruised herself before getting back up.

Her first destination was the corner of the room that held Owen's imitation wings and his backpack. The former she bypassed for the latter, opening it up and pawing at his things. Some pang of memory ate at her as she looked at a notebook stuffed with ideas, including the designs for the wings in various iterations. If indeed it wasn't a dream, the notes independently confirmed that he had been actively dreaming of her and trying to copy her wings, just as she had been of him.

It also told her that they had the exact same hoofwriting; a chilling realization.

All the glimmers and flashes from Owen, of being Owen, wormed doubt into her heart. If she was discordant, the stories said that it was likely she could only tell in faint flashes of clarity, and the possibility that something really was wrong with her mind or spirit had a numbing quality. It could be a curse, but it might not have been. Her memories of home were clear and consistent, as far as she could tell, and she occupied herself with remembering as much as she could of her real life until the others returned.

One terrible possibility bucked on the door of her consciousness.

Sitting on the couch with serious expressions, the sibs invited her to perch in the big chair to the side. "So," Aisha said as she settled in. She paused to stare a little at how Light Breeze sat, with her legs pulled up, and shook her head. "Jaime and I… we're agreed that we're keeping our options open. Neither of us know a thing about psychic stuff or ghosts or magic or whatever except what we've read, but, uh…"

"You got us spooked." Jaime gestured to her. "There are only three possibilities: you're lying and therefore a fantastic child actor—in which case, bravo, go sign a big contract—or you're currently suffering a mental breakdown due to abuse and a lack of sleep and telling the truth as you see it, or…"

"Or you're telling the truth, the real truth." Aisha propped her head on her hand. "We saw you try to walk, that barrel roll. You talk… kind of the same, kind of different, and you don't hitch on weird turns of phrase. You went from zero to sixty in terms of otherness in the span of one dream. On the other hand… you aren't that different from Owen. You're speaking English. You've got a similar personality."

Light Breeze held up her doofy ape-hand. "I want to be totally honest with you guys. Ah, first, pet peeve, a barrel roll is a full rotation of your lateral and longitudinal axes, which I know is such a pegasus thing to say. What I did doesn't have a formal name, it's just a way to distribute force more evenly when you fall so it doesn't cause as much harm. Second, I'm… not so sure I'm not Owen. Or, at least, I am kind of getting his memories, but I also have my own memories. I just…"

Slowly, Light Breeze sucked in a breath. The fear of what her parents—of what Owen's parents—would do to her if she was out too long dug knives into her spine. "I remember, vaguely, dreaming about him all my life. Last night was the first time I remembered everything he got up to that day. And… I think maybe there's a possibility that I'm just Owen remembering everything I did. I mean, that Light Breeze did."

As he said the words, Owen's haze faded a little more. His legs unfolded, and he slumped in place. Aisha and Jaime were riveted by the display. "I can tell you everything she did, except the stuff she doesn't remember. When and what she ate and where. What she got up to throughout the day. The names of the friends she visited, her family's. I remember what she was thinking about the day before, and the thoughts and fears she had going to bed because she knew she was going to dream of me."

He buried his face in his hands, a frustrated cry pulled from him. "What's wrong with me?"

Jaime got up at once. It didn't matter that they were two boys, he pulled him in tight all the same and looked over his shoulder at his sister. "You can't sit there and tell me that you saw all that and don't think there's something going on here."

"I don't know what to think." Aisha huffed and pushed up. "I think that, if Owen is sick, we would be doing the wrong thing to just not challenge it. At the same time… yeah, I gotta admit I'm kind of buying it. We gotta talk to Mom and Dad, either way."

"Agreed."

"Wait! Wait." Owen pulled back. The thought of pressing into a boy—especially a boy like Jaime—for comfort while he cried hadn't felt embarrassing at the time, but as he pulled back he imagined the looks his family gave him whenever he acted weird or was too affectionate. The words they whispered about her father's gay cousin when they thought no one was looking burned in his ears. "Maybe I am just… distressed. I agree with you that I should talk to someone, but if that happens my parents will find out, and then I'll get humiliated, and if I'm not distressed now, I sure will be when that happens." He swallowed, drying his tears. "Maybe this was just a momentary thing, and I'll go back to normal."

"I mean, if you're really suffering from something serious…" Jaime sighed. "I guess, but we gotta set a time limit. Like a week or something."

"Yeah." Aisha nodded vigorously. "Maybe it was just some weird Samhain alignment thing. Full moon on Halloween, gotta be something extra potent, right?"

"I'd think the new moon would be more frightening. Darker night."

Ignoring their rambling occult argument, Owen grabbed one of his notebooks and quickly wrote down everything he'd seen, heard, or felt as Light Breeze, before and after waking up. "I'm going to keep a dream journal and take down everything I can, like you suggested. I'll be able to come visit at the end of the week to review, and you guys will see me in school so you can tell if I'm acting weird. That sound good?"

He didn't wait to hear their agreement, not wanting to miss a thing, and wrote long after they had gone off to get ready for the morning. He was still writing when they returned at breakfast, and the two of them watched with astonishment as he finally stopped, the last fragments faded. He pushed the notebook forward and ate ravenously of the cereal. He'd gone vegetarian a couple months ago in exactly the same way that Equestrians were, still eating eggs and milk, but he tried not to let that bother him.

Over their own bacon and eggs, they flipped through, marveling at the detailed accounts, the pictures of a city that looked so much like theirs but cleaner, less built up and modern. Owen had a pretty decent line and knew how to shade, and so his sketches were on point if not always technically accurate.

When he'd run out of things she'd done, he'd tried to capture things she knew, and that was a whole other set of pages, with remembered study on flight with her mother, aphorisms from her father, notes about the land and the people.

"Jesus H. C." Jaime lifted the last page, hoping for more. "Is that all?"

"For now. I think there's a few more things I could write about, but I was starving. I feel like running, and like I need to be carb loaded."

In truth, he felt like trying to practice gliding and wing-assisted jumps to strengthen his second set of shoulder muscles, but that thought only made his back twitch harder.

"What you need is to get your ass home." Aisha packed up his things. "Dad promised to drop you off. I let him know your parents are, uh, not kosher, so he's going to leave you at the corner and make sure you get back safe from a distance."

Owen frowned, looking up from his food. "I'm worried one of my dad's buddies from his time in the force will see and tell, but I guess it's getting late, huh?"

"You gotta get yourself a phone." Jaime patted his back pocket. "In fact, one sec."

Returning to his side of the basement, he rooted through a drawer and got out a box. It had a somewhat beat up, old model smartphone. "Grandma got us all new phones for our combined birthdays, but I felt bad tossing my old one because it still worked fine. It doesn't have any service, but if you got some spare change you can get a prepaid plan for minutes, or you can use Wi-Fi. Better for keeping in touch, right?"

"Sentimentalist." Aisha rolled her eyes, dipping hot sauce on her eggs. "I guess it worked out, though. Let us know the minute something happens, okay?"

The extended phone revived Owen's fiery blush, nearly forgotten before. He accepted it with a faint tremble and nodded. "Thank you… you guys… I don't—"

"Shush." Aisha pointed a fork at him. "You utter one word about not deserving it, and I'm going to find out what pegasus blood tastes like. We're doing this because we're your friends, got it?"

He flinched, and a helpless smile spread across his face as he cried freely. His brothers would have called him a pussy if they saw, but even if they'd been there yelling at him, he wouldn't have cared in the strength of that moment. Clutching the phone to his chest, he nodded. "Okay."

As Owen had figured, his parents didn't even wake up until well after noon on Sunday, and he'd confined himself to his room as per usual, playing video games on his laptop. Outside, the sky was cloudy and gray, but a light breeze was blowing through his window and stirring his shaggy hair. He couldn't focus on the screen, and soon gave up, heading over to duck his head through the window. Beyond his fire escape, the trees had almost finished shedding their burdens, and a powerful longing kicked up in him at the sight of the red and orange flowing through the street.

He found his mother where she normally sat, propped up on the easy chair with her fingers flying across her laptop. Her job had never quite gone back to the office after the Year Which Should Not Be Named, and it suited her just fine. The fact that she was on her work laptop suggested that she hadn't finished her assigned tasks on Friday and, like Owen - and Light Breeze - with his homework, was furiously trying to finish it in time for Monday despite her red eyes.

"Hey, Mom. I'm heading outside," he said, hoping that if he made it sound like he was taking initiative instead of asking for permission it would make it easier. He didn't even bother with his jacket, hanging over a chair at the table, as he bypassed it for his shoes at the door, the idea that it might be too cold barely registering.

"Hang on, there, Mister." His mother fixed him with a look, her face lean. She had been beautiful once - still was, in many ways - but Owen didn't blame her for the ways the world had wrung her out. He might only be able to access Twitter on his computer, but he knew what he was in for when he grew up.

He did blame her for the way she looked at him, though. It was like he was some intruder who had trespassed and would soon pay dearly. He couldn't remember the last time she'd gazed at him with more than passing affection instead of exasperation.

"Adam said you didn't come home last night."

Owen froze up. A lie, that Jeremiah had been with him and he had just gotten back late, died in his throat. Leaving aside that he didn't know when or how Adam had said he'd noticed, the thought of lying for something like this stuck in his craw. He just couldn't. "Yeah," he managed lamely. "I was staying at a friend's house."

"Who?" His mother sat up. "Tim?"

He didn't want to lie, and while lying by omission felt almost as bad, he remained silent long enough that she drew her own conclusions.

"That little weasel. I dunno why you hang out with him," she muttered, opening her laptop.

Owen didn't either, sometimes, but he silently questioned the implications of calling someone named Timothy Cohen a weasel. He didn't dare speak up against the offense, though, and quietly put on his shoes in the hopes that she'd forgotten about him.

"Hold it." Her voice reached him as he gripped the door handle. "Did you finish your homework?"

Cursing himself silently, he counted to three before turning. "No, just math. I was going to—"

She snapped her fingers and pointed back to his room. "Get in there and finish up. I want to see it before you go anywhere. I want to know where you're going and what time you'll be back. I haven't forgotten that you snuck out without telling me."

In truth, it wasn't all that different from what Light Breeze might have expected from her own parents, only they would have given their reasons, not been so peremptory, would have used a kinder tone, and she didn't even get homework because apparently Equestria was like Finland in key respects.

"Oh, and don't think I won't tell your father when he gets home."

That was the other way in which his whole situation was unlike hers. His limbs tingled with nausea. "Please, Mom. Don't tell Dad. I'm sorry."

"You should have thought of that sooner. Now you're just sorry because you were caught."

He was, but for damned good reason. Hurrying to the chair, he pressed his hands against the armrest like he was propping up on hooves. "Mom, please! I'll do anything. Just don't tell Dad."

She eyed him, and jerked her head to the kitchen. "Clean up the kitchen, and I mean the whole kitchen. I want it spic and span. If you finish to my satisfaction before he gets home, I will think about not telling him."

Owen leapt off to do just that. It took him several tries and over an hour, well before his dad would return, during which time the golden leaves of autumn's last breath blew mockingly by the windows. Every time he thought he'd finished, his mother announced that he'd missed something or not gotten the right shine, and made him do the task again. She said she wouldn't tell, but he had no way of knowing if she'd keep her word. It depended entirely on her mood when the time came.

By the time he returned to his room, he was exhausted. Not from the labor, but from having his nerves stretched out like cat guts getting made into violin strings. The wind still stirred his hair, but he shut the window. Either the dreams had attenuated to the point where he didn't feel the urge anymore, or the cold had turned too bitter against his bare fingers for it to be fun. He just put his nose to the grindstone and worked, opening his laptop and finishing mind-numbing math problems. At the least, that portion of the day was finished quickly. He recalled that Light Breeze had already done something similar almost a year ago, only it had been explained more clearly and with greater enthusiasm, and so he blazed through math just as the wind finally died.

That night, around dinner, the family ate in silence. They never fully understood his recent commitment to vegetarianism, but throwing up the last time they got him a hamburger had been enough to ensure he always had some vegetables to throw a main course together with. Adam spent most of it texting his girlfriend, and Jeremiah stabbed at his potatoes in frustration at having his own phone taken by their mother for having been out drinking, though their father hadn't really minded and so it would likely be back before the night was out. Owen, naturally, didn't dare show his, which was charging behind his bed.

"Oh, Frank?" His mother looked up from her food. "Guess where Owen was last night."

Owen's appetite constricted as firmly as his stomach did, and a wave of nausea swept over him. His dad frowned over at his wife while still chewing, his eyes still bloodshot. "What?"

"He was out all night with that Tim boy."

His father shrugged, and the tension faded a bit. "So what? Boys will be boys, May. You gotta just let these things go sometimes."

Hiding a relieved sigh, Owen finished his plate and rested his hands on either side. "May I be excused?"

Though annoyed, his mother nodded him along. "Wash your plate first."

While he took his dishes to the kitchen, Jeremiah cleared his throat.

"Actually, Dad? I saw that little rat boy come around for treats in the neighborhood I was in. Last I saw, Owen had gone off with those Gaines kids into their house."

Petrified from root to branch, it was all Owen could do to turn his head and witness the furious looks on his parents' faces. He put down the plates on the counter and braced for what was to come.

Groaning and clutching at his stomach, Owen roused to the chirping of birds in the pre-dawn light. It was strange, though, for as he did, he found no pain waiting for him, no tense and bruised muscles, just the memory of them.

A stirring at his side confirmed his suspicions, and a long, low sigh pulled itself free. Far from exasperation, though, it was one of relief.

He wouldn't have to wake up in real pain, not for a while yet. He had a stay of execution.

It was a little awkward managing wings, and he was as uncomfortable on all fours as she'd been on two, but a horizontal body with four legs was more stable than a vertical one with two, so he was able to hop off the bed and take to the bathroom without much trouble. Of course, deep down he knew the feeling of being Owen would fade as his feelings of being Light Breeze had, but it was strange and kind of fascinating to prop his hooves up on the sink and gaze into the mirror.

A filly’s face, with white speckles dusted like freckles over teal features and turquoise eyes, greeted her there. Owen stuck out her tongue and rubbed it along her flat teeth, finding a slight gap behind the last molars. Working the wings took a little doing, but she slowly spread one and then the other, admiring the hue of her plumage. Feathers stuck out at random in places, the casualties of wear and tear and sleep, but if she thought a little more she knew what to do. There were some feathers that felt like they needed to come out, so she pulled them with her own teeth, and wrapped her hock in the straps of the special brushes hung on the wall to arrange and smooth them with a little oily stuff in a bottle. It felt wonderful to get them just right, and the shine was everything she'd wanted in her make-believe Halloween costume.

Part of Owen knew she should be scared and worried, but Equestria was far from where she had just been, and there was nothing about Light Breeze’s experiences that felt dangerous. It was a relief to be away from her family more than anything else.

It was probably best to stop clinging, though.

Facing the mirror again, she cleared her throat. “My name is Light Breeze. I’m almost twelve years old. I’m a pegasus filly living in Fillydelphia with my mom, River Wind, my dad, Star Seeker, and my dumb older brother, Arc Light.”

“What are you badmouthing me this early for?” Arc Light, a half-grown, blue unicorn colt with long, slender legs and her speckles, peered at her through the half-open door. A bright, tight arc of electrical fire marked his sides. “Is there a reason you’re practicing your own name?”

“It’s…” Light Breeze hesitated. If it was a curse, she’d want her family to know, but she didn’t know what to think about it yet. She’d been panicking when she’d told Jaime and Aisha and made them worry, something she didn't want to put on her family without cause, but she figured they had the right idea in their solution. “It’s a long story. I need to think about it more before I feel ready to talk about it. Can I borrow one of your journals? I want to write down my dreams.”

“Really? Guess you gotta have a unicorn side in there somewhere.” He shrugged. “Sure, whatever. Knock yourself out.” He gestured with his horn, and a sharp white light grabbed one from his room and dragged it out to hover beside her. “So long as you get out of there and let me use the restroom already, dweeb.”

Snatching it out of the air with her teeth, she mumbled her thanks and darted back into her room at a gallop. Finding her desk, she set the notebook down and grabbed a stylus to start writing.

“I’m so sorry, Owen,” she whispered. “It’s not right. I wish I could help.”

Talking like that felt weird, though. She didn’t have to tell Owen things anymore than she had to tell herself things. So, she wrote down everything she could remember of what Owen had been up to and what his thoughts had been. It was easy, in a way. She thought that Owen would be easy to banish, but she could bring up his thoughts and feelings as if they were her own long after waking. Eventually, after she’d nearly run out of ink, she did run out of things to put down, and she blew on the last things she’d wrote to dry faster before shutting it. The remaining pages would have to wait until the next dream, but, truth be told, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Not after what had happened last time.

"Light Breeze!" her dad called. "You haven't eaten breakfast yet. You're going to be late to school if you don't hurry up!"

"Coming!" She grabbed her saddlebags. Her thoughts still weighed heavily on her mind as she galloped down the stairs.

Chapter 3 - Restlessness

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For some reason, the snow collecting outside the diner window fascinated Light Breeze. There could be nothing less remarkable than heavy snow banks a couple days after Nightmare Night, but something about the regularly scheduled deposition of frozen water held her attention fast even with her dad's stories about work turning one ear. Snow in November wasn't exactly unheard of in Philadelphia, but this much and this early felt strange, like winter coming all at once should have bothered her. She knew why, of course, but even the single, wing-knitted scarf with a few of her mom's old feathers woven in she used to keep her neck warm became an object of interest. She had no need for the heavy coats that jumped to mind for Owen, not even if she were as much a pure unicorn as her dad.

"Honey?" Her dad nudged her shoulder with a hoof. "Your order?"

She jerked up with her ears alert and burning with embarrassment, staring at the pretty young hippogriff at the end of the table. The diner resolved with couples and small families tucked around the wide, rugged seats. More than a fair few had griffons, and a picture on the wall was of the griffon chef and his pegasus wife mugging on either side of Princess Celestia at the bar. "I'm sorry! Uh, let me see."

"That's fine," she chirped. Her pink feathered mane swept down on one side. "Usual?"

"Uh…" Lifting the menu with her wingtips, she pawed through. Her eyes settled on the spinach, mushroom, and cheese omelette she'd ordered every time they'd come since she was a little filly, but for some reason it felt boring. "Maybe not this time." Her eyes roamed the page. "Could you take Arc Light's order first, please?"

"Cut-apple salad with a side of tomato soup." He passed his menu up. "You know, I don't think I've ever asked, Sunny. What's Mt. Aris like?"

She giggled, taking it back. "You know that's, like, the other side of Equestria entirely, right? I'm probably no more related than you, since my mom is from an aerie near Griffonstone. Here's how you can tell." She touched her nose with a wingtip. "My beak is a lot sharper, because theirs are for gutting fish." She didn't say what hers was for, but Light Breeze could guess. Sweeping her wing forward, she showed off the feathers. "You don't see the heavy shine of waterproof feathers, either. Mine are more like eagle feathers, not fit for heavy rain and water like your mom's and sister's."

Light Breeze would have been mortified, but Arc Light just nodded politely. "I apologize for my rudeness. I'll remember for the future and not pry so much."

Somehow, for reasons that baffled her, mares like Sunny found him charming, and she giggled. "No harm done. Here, I'll make us even in terms of nosiness. You're from a seafarer pegasus clan, right, Ms. River Wind? Maybe the Ruby Islands?"

Her mother puffed up with pride. "That's exactly right! We cut through the water as gracefully as the air."

"Well, my uncle thanks you for all the fish!"

While listening with a cocked ear, Light Breeze flipped through the menu without much appetite until she got to the end. Two pages in a very different style, with angular Griff writing alongside Equestrian print, and something from the griffon family in the next booth over tickled her nose. She paused, staring at the menu before lifting a hoof. "I think I've decided what I want." She tapped the laminate. "I'd like a turkey burger, please."

"Sure thing, hon," Sunny said, dutifully taking her order down while her family stared, wide-eyed. "Medium or well-done? Potato fries okay? Anything to drink?"

"Hold on." Her mother raised a wing to forestall her. "What."

Light Breeze's tail curled in around her. Owen had been a vegetarian for a long time, but there was an echo of a memory of meat, and she could remember him liking it quite a bit. The curiosity to see if it would be at all similar was powerful. "I just want to try it. I don't want to have the same thing everytime I come here."

"There's a whole menu to choose from, Sweetheart." Her dad blinked down at it, as if to check, and then up at her. "A whole lot of items that don't have meat."

"Not that seeing you turn green won't be hilarious," Arc Light said, "but couldn't you get seriously ill eating meat?"

Sunny cleared her throat. "Actually, equine kind can tolerate and digest a little meat. During the Holy Days, my dad will partake a little with us, and he's always fine."

"My daughter isn't partaking in anything right now." Her mother's feathers ruffled. "Light Breeze, please just pick something else if you don't want your usual. Maybe you won't get sick, but you don't want meat. You don’t want to make a habit of eating dead animals."

Light Breeze puffed up right back, pouting. All she knew was that her stomach was growling and the scent from the next table smelled so satisfying it hurt. "Come on, Mom! I'd just like to try it. Lots of other people here are. I probably won't even like it."

"River? Just let it happen," her father said dryly. "Trust me; this'll be one time, and we'll never hear about it again."

Her mother sighed. "Fine. Okay."

A few minutes later, the platter arrived with her strawberry lemonade and a basket filled with both purple potato fries and two toasted buns containing lettuce, tomato, pickles, a slice of cheese, and one formerly living chunk of animal muscle cooked to perfection. Something about the tomato felt like it should bother her, like horses being poisoned by it, but that was clearly wrong.

Sunny didn't judge. She just flashed her a bird-like smile and dropped an "Enjoy!" before moving onto the next table.

Her family stared at it as though it might exhale one last gobble, and Arc Light even scooted away.

"You're never going to be able to date her if you react like that," Light Breeze chided him as she dipped a fry in some dressing.

"It's not the burger I'm shying from." He snorted. "I don't want you gnawing on my leg now that you're developing an unnatural taste for flesh. It's fine when they do it."

"It's not too late to order something else," her mom offered hopefully.

"Mom, you fish for a living. Lots of people here are eating meat."

"Yeah, but I do that because dogs and cats and griffons gotta eat meat. You have other options than eating something that used to breathe."

Her dad reached across to lay a hoof on hers. "Don't worry. Trust me."

If they were hoping the smell might dissuade her, they were sadly mistaken. If anything, close range only made her salivate. Taking the burger in her hooves, she held it up and took a deliberate bite. She chewed the juicy meat and swallowed.

"Not bad," she declared to their horrified looks, and ate on. Several griffons at the nearby tables stared at her, quietly impressed.

Her mother shot her father an acid look, but he just smiled. She didn't see what the big deal was, since it went down great. Maybe it wasn't her new favorite, but she wouldn't pass up another if offered.

Two hours later, Light Breeze lay sprawled out on the floor of the living room, groaning like a wounded animal.

"See?" Her father adjusted the radio with a crackle and grinned. "One time. Equines can digest meat in emergencies, but only a little, and I figured that Sunny's dad had built up a tolerance as part of living with his wife and daughter, so she had an exaggerated estimation of how much that was."

"Why didn't you warn me?" Light Breeze listened to the cheers from a hoofball game and rubbed her sweating face with a wing. "Betrayed by my own father."

Her mother nudged her with a hoof, trying not to look smug and failing. "Never gonna do that again, though, are we?"

"Never." She sniffled. "I'm sorry, Mom. I apologize to the little turkey who died so I could lay here dying, too."

"Oh, Light, sweetheart, you aren't going to die." Taking pity, her mother nuzzled her poll. "I'll get you something from the store. Just hold on tight, okay? I'm not really mad, promise."

Something about the way she said that made tears well up far more readily than the blood-boiling pain in her innards might have called for. "Th-thank you, Mom. I love you so much."

Her mother kissed her forehead before heading for the door. "Love you, too."

All she could think about as she lay there wasn't the pain, it was how Owen's mother never looked at him with pity or affection like that. When her husband had done what he'd done, she'd just told him it was his own fault for being disobedient. He'd had to get his own pain medicine from the bathroom cabinet.

"Light Breeze?"

She flinched at her own father's voice, ears laying back. He wasn't angry, though, just concerned. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Is something going on?" He looked up from the book he was reading. "You've been acting funny lately. You know you can talk to your mother and I about anything, right?"

"Uh huh." She pawed at the carpet.

"I know I'm not a mare, but I wouldn't mind if you wanted to talk about, you know, changes. I am pretty comfortable hearing about it."

She squirmed with embarrassment, turning her head towards him. "No! It's nothing like that. It's…" She rolled onto her side, hoping that would help. It didn't. "Do you remember me talking about my dreams?"

"Of course. It's all mostly the same, right? You mentioned that at some point."

"I feel like I'm remembering more of them than usual, and they're… kind of weird."

"Weird how?"

"I see… other places. Strange creatures. Nothing, like, horrifying." Aside from the way Owen's family treated him or the state of his hometown. "It's really interesting, actually."

"I wouldn't mind hearing about it."

She shied back, rolling over her back to scratch it before landing on her belly. "I dunno. Maybe later. I'm still working it out."

"Okay. Take your time." He lifted his book. "You know, you could always write Princess Luna. She wasn't around for that kind of thing when I was your age and having nightmares of my own, but she could probably tell you everything about strange dreams. As long as you're not getting hurt, I don't need to pry into your privacy, but it might help to talk to somepony."

He looked up as Light Breeze propped her head on the couch next to him. "I love you so much, Dad. Did anyone ever tell you that you're the best father in the whole galaxy?"

His smile opened wide, and he nuzzled her warmly. "Only all the time by the best kids in the world. You'll be okay, sweetie, you… wait, any-what?"

Light Breeze blushed and laughed. "I meant anypony. I guess I was thinking about the mixed company earlier."

Even so, the word lingered in her mind. Not for long, though, as her insides gurgled and performed somersaults, driving most other thoughts away.

Even on normal days, Owen couldn't tolerate the smell of cafeteria lunch meat, but today it put him off his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and everything else in his little paper bag. He just stared at it while Tim jabbered on about some new anime he had torrented and not bothered to ask him to watch with. He could have used the distraction the night before. A hand trended down to his chest, where it still felt tender.

A clatter announced the arrival of Aisha and Jaime on either side. They had gotten mini, branded pizzas, since the school had turned over its cafeteria to corporations long before they arrived through its doors.

"Not hungry?" Aisha asked. "I admit, there's nothing all that appetizing here."

Jaime caught his eyes. "How were the dreams last night?"

Wordlessly, Owen fetched a notebook and turned pages. He landed on a depiction in sketches and text of the Fillydelphia-side school cafeteria, with his lingering over the fresh, chef-prepared meals the students ate betraying his jealousy.

"What's this?" Tim asked from across the scratched and marked up table. The only scratches on the equestrian side were from griffon students, and barely, since they were all varnished wood with heavy scroll work. Jaime had kept his voice to the whisper, but he leaned over to look at the journal. "Are you working on a comic or something?"

Owen might not have been able to bring himself to lie, but Aisha could and how. "Yeah, he showed us some ideas for a comic book vaguely inspired by his dreams last night."

"What? That's cool! Why didn't you tell me? I can help with the hosting, if you're interested. My dad gives me some free space on his server."

Owen had only the vaguest idea of what he was talking about, but while a creative project might have been nice, he just felt tired. "I'll let you know. Thanks."

The idea of depicting Light Breeze's life for an audience felt wrong, anyway. It didn't quite feel voyeuristic on his part, but it certainly would feel exposing.

Jaime and Aisha exchanged glances, grabbed their trays with one hand, and him with the other. "We're stealing him to plan," Jaime announced. "See you later, Tim."

Owen barely had time to put his untouched food away, clutching the bag to his chest as they led him outside. He looked mournfully up at the trees, almost bare, but at least moist, damp leaves squished under his boots as they made their way to a table. Even if it was kind of a miserable day, with none of the snow to make it fun, he had to admit that being out under the open sky felt better. It also meant they were totally alone at lunch.

"Thought it would be better not to talk in front of him. He's the kind of kid to blurt everything out and use some very problematic language to boot." Jaime picked up the journal and continued to page through it.

"Is there a reason you're not eating?" Aisha cast him a worried glance. "You winced a lot."

"My… dad says he doesn't want me around you two anymore." He forced himself to take a bite of his sandwich. It went down better now that he had fresh air, or at least as fresh as the air got in this part of Philadelphia. "Fuck him. I talk to who I want."

"He whipped your ass, huh?" Aisha shook her head, horrified. "If our daddy laid so much as a finger on us, our mom would body him so fast. Not that he ever would."

Jaime lowered the book. "We gotta call child services."

"I remember when Jerm did that.” Owen shook his head. “The cops who came joked with my dad, and the social services guy just gave him a warning."

Aisha took a moment to Google, frowning. "Look, I trust the authorities a lot less than the average person, but you should still, like, tell teachers, doctors, and keep making reports. That stuff builds a paper trail."

"They don't care." He sounded hollow. "They just look at you like you're another sad story."

He could sense that they hadn't given up, but they let it go for a bit. Jaime, reading quietly, cleared his throat. "You know, it's possible that these dreams are—"

"An elaborate fantasy world that I'm escaping into where I have a funny dad who encourages my studies instead of calling me dead weight, a cool mom who protects me instead of looking the other way, and one older brother who I clash with in a comical way but actually love instead of two older brothers who gang up on and make fun of me?"

They both flinched at his tone. Silence followed.

Owen had always been quick to tears, despite his father's best efforts, but ever since the Gaines siblings had encouraged him to dig deeper into his dreams they came faster and harder. "I know. I've thought about it all day."

"So, like… you didn't wake up thinking you were, uh, Light Breeze today?" Aisha asked.

"I did, but… if I'm crazy—"

She cut a hand in an imperious gesture. "Don't say crazy. Crazy is a slur, it diminishes people. You're not crazy, and even if you might be suffering from something, we won't think less of you."

Jaime nodded firmly, and Owen blushed. "I… thank you, but most people don't care. If you're off in any way, you're trash. You're not even human anymore, and not even a cute alien like the ones in my dreams. You're just..." He looked out towards the chain link fence at the end of the grass, where homeless tents sprouted between buildings like mushrooms after rain, more and more every year.

Aisha took his hand. When he flinched back, his hand seizing up, she wrapped her arms about him and that was better. "You aren't crazy. You're hurting."

"I…" He swallowed and leaned in, careful of his bruises. "I don't deserve…" He tittered weakly. "No, I'm not going to make that mistake while you have your fangs in reach of my neck."

Jaime squeezed his shoulder, and he couldn't help but turn a faint red at his touch.

"I guess, to finish my thought, when each of us wake up, we each feel like each other for a bit, like you saw. It fades when we acknowledge who we are, but it's… it's never entirely gone. I don't think that's even the right way to put it. I used to forget all of that stuff, but when I think back on the stuff that happened in the dream, I don't think of it like 'Light Breeze did this,' I think of it as 'I did this, and my name was Light Breeze at the time.' I remember it better than what I did the previous day, because to me that was almost two days ago." He looked down at his hands and rubbed the fingers and the backs of his palms. "That's the only reason why I'm still thinking maybe there's something to this, even though it feels like an obvious fantasy. How can I dream the same dream world every night, with no story structure, where I’m just living normally every day?"

"Well, two days," Aisha pointed out. "You've still got until the end of the week. But… Owen, we can't sit on your abuse. Please, let's go to the nurse."

"But, what about…"

Jaime pressed in as well. "Owen, this isn't going to get better unless we take action."

"I'm just… it could make things worse."

"So come with us to our house until this is over."

Owen shook. "He knows everyone in the precinct. If he wants to bring me back, they will, and they might… you know way better than me that they don’t need an excuse to seriously hurt Black people." He put his head in his hands. "I should have come up with a better excuse. I should have bribed Jeremiah or something; been nicer to him."

"No, no." Aisha shook her head. "This isn't your fault. It's their fault, all the way."

"Please.” Jaime took his other arm. “You can't make us sit by. This is only going to get worse, and we already feel guilty not telling. And if he does anything again, we don't care, come to our house."

Owen whimpered and let them hug him as he cried. "They do say friendship is magic over there." He sniffed heavily. "Okay," he squeaked. "Okay."

No CPS agents came to Owen’s apartment that afternoon. He didn’t know how these things worked. Googling had suggested that, under certain circumstances, they would have to come interview them after the school reported it within a certain period of time.

What he really wanted to do was go to sleep, but he was too restless. Every time he put his head on the pillow and curled beneath the sheets, his heart thundered and his head ached. The sooner he could sleep, the sooner he could go somewhere nice.

Eventually, he couldn’t sit still. He went into the living room, looking to where his father sat on the couch. Owen stood by the photos on the wall, by the pictures of them out hunting. Even long before the dreams were clear in his head, he was a miserable lump crying next to his siblings and a dead deer.

While trying to assess if he was in any danger, he opened up the fridge for a drink and saw a bottle of NyQuil on the shelf. His eyes fixed, and he paused, his thoughts racing. There was a way to still his restless heart for the night if he had a mind to.

He checked the instructions on the label, not wanting to overdose if it came to it, but couldn't bring himself to.

A knock came at the front door, and then his night got worse.

A man and a woman interviewed him in his room and had him wait while they interviewed the rest of his family. He hoped—he really did—that it would be enough, and when they left he texted Aisha and Jaime.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall, and he quickly shoved the phone back behind the bed just as his father shoved it open. Owen went cold, eyes fixed on his, and they stood there for a second, silent.

"Who put you up to this?"

Owen stammered and tore his gaze away.

"It's not abuse, you stupid little shit." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I can't believe I have to explain this again. It's discipline, something that you boys evidently need a lot of, because none of you listen." He pointed his finger at him, face red. "I wouldn't have to discipline you if you didn't act out. You need to survive in the world, and you're not going to get that way whining to everyone. You've got it good. You have a roof over your head. We even make sure you have vegetarian options, even if you keep making faces about the rest of us eating meat. You gotta shape up into a man, boy, because that world out there won't be kind to a little bitch who can't take care of himself."

Owen tried not to cry. He was almost twelve, and boys didn't cry, especially in front of people like him. He clamped down on his throat and the tears came anyway, streaming down his cheeks.

"And now he's crying," his father said to the air. "Fucking great. Don't do this again, you hear me? They gave me a warning, so let it be a warning to you. They aren't going to help you with whatever imaginary problem you have with me, so get over it and suck it up."

The door slammed, and Owen shuddered. He didn't dare leave his room until it was well and truly dark.

The NyQuil was still there when he found the fridge, creeping silently in his socks so no one in the living room could hear. Carefully, but with desperate hands, he measured out and downed a dose, forcing himself not to gag from the taste.

He had no fear anyone would come to rouse him for dinner, not after that. He looked at the crack between his bed, but he couldn't bear to tell his friends that the state had failed him once again.

Hugging his pillow, drowsy and heavy, he turned out his lamp and waited until the abyss claimed him.

The softness of a cloud found him. He sighed, relieved, and pressed his hooves against it, enjoying the pressure it gave back, the slight springiness. To his mind it was impossible, but he remembered a little more of what Light Breeze did and that made it clear. It was just part of the magic here.

The air outside was brisk and chilly, but a wind was blowing softly and stirring his messy mane. Grabbing a scarf hooked up on the headboard, he struggled with putting it on for a few minutes before he got it tucked nicely about his long neck. It smelled like River Wind thanks to all the feathers, and that was calming.

Down the stairs he ran, taking the broad steps more slowly, and then across the hall to the back door. They didn't have much of a backyard, but he laughed and leapt into the snow, hooves pressing through until he climbed up onto the fence and spread his wings to catch the air.

A cute little neighborhood in Fillydelphia sprawled out before him. The houses were small and tight, but ponies walked and flew through the cool day to laugh and talk with neighbors, pick up newspapers in their teeth, and head out to work with smiles on their faces.

For a day, at least, Owen was safe.

"Light Breeze?" River Wind called. "What the heck are you doing?"

An ear swiveled, and he turned in place to look at her in the snow. "Oh, uhm, I had a bad dream, so I felt like some fresh air. Is that okay?"

River Wind's wings opened a tad, her head canting. "Why wouldn't it be okay? I mean, since when have you ever needed my permission to go out? Though, if you're playing hooky from school, you should probably not mention it while your dad is around. You know how he gets about that!"

"Oh. I don't want to make him mad. Don't worry. I want to go to school." He hopped off the planter in back and trotted around. The last thing he wanted to do was to usurp her family in any way. He already felt strange doing this much.

River Wind had other ideas, scooping him in with her wing and holding him tightly. "You okay, sprout? You're acting all funny again. Dream that bad?"

Owen tried not to melt into her, but Light Breeze never could resist. He tamped down his shame, reminding himself of who she really was. The last thing she wanted to be was Owen just then.

"I'm… I'm okay, Mom. Like I said, bad dreams."

"Are they getting worse?"

She nodded faintly, and her mother sighed and hugged her more tightly still. "Okay. We're going to see a doctor, then. I'll talk to your dad."

"Wait!" Panic shot through her, and she threw up her wings. "Don't talk to Dad!"

"Don't talk to me about what?" he asked from the back door. "What's wrong, Light?"

Light Breeze perched there for a moment, realizing with horror that she had mistaken the two. Quickly, she hurried over and thumped into his chest, hugging him tightly. "I wanted to tell you myself," she said, quailing a little at the half-truth. "About my dreams."

Looking between her parents, with their concerned faces, was too much for her. She burst into sudden tears, remembering the disgusted faces of the other ones. "I'm so glad to have you both. I don't know what I'd do without you."

They exchanged glances. "Why… don't you stay home for today, sprout?" Her mother gestured with a wing. "I can stay with you, and we'll get a house call from the doctor."

"No! I don't want to stay home. I want to go to school. I want a normal day. We can talk to the doctor after?"

After what she had gone through, she wanted to be able to be a normal kid more than ever, one who didn't have to live in a place of fear and suspicion and pain.

Her mother mouthed "Don't want to stay home?" as if it were some alien thing. She thought they might refuse, but her father nodded slightly. "I don't see how it would hurt, River. You have to promise us that you feel okay enough to go to school, though, young lady."

Light Breeze faced him squarely and nodded. "I promise."

"Okay," her mother said, extending a hoof, "but I'm taking you to school, and I'm flying you home after. Deal?"

She giggled. The gesture was just too adorable for words, somehow, and she clapped her hoof against hers. "Deal."

The whole thing left her with a faint taste in her mouth, as though she were still an imposter in her own life. Yet, as they ate breakfast and she rode her mother's back through the air, she couldn't think of a place she would rather be.

The doctor didn't find anything, but the whole experience earned Light Breeze special treatment anyway. The whole family curled up by the radio under blankets, listening to serials and drinking hot chocolate.

She felt guilty for not telling her parents or the doctor about the journals, and she thought about it more than once, but even when she reviewed them to refresh her memory, the things in them disturbed her. Flipping through sketches of a dreary school, of a father whose scowling face seemed prepared to jump out at her from the page, and only two friends worthy of the name, she could only imagine their abject horror at seeing her subjected to such things.

Perhaps more disturbing still was how often the words on the page used "I" instead of "he," even long after she'd reminded herself of who she was.

As the night wore on, she listened to the ticking of the clock in the hall downstairs and the whistling of night birds. Every minute that drew closer to sleep was another minute closer to seeing through Owen's eyes again, and that sent a shiver down her spine that puffed up her feathers defensively. His last moments awake had been to shorten his time there.

"Well. I wanted a way to help him. Maybe if I stay up as long as I can, he won't have to get up as soon?"

The thought of leaving him like an enchanted unicorn noblewoman appealed to her, and whether that thought came from her or Owen or both bore no meaning. Grabbing a book she hadn't read from her shelf, she closed the door and turned the magical lamp by her bed low. Since it was Friday, and her mother believed strongly in a pegasus's right to laze about, she'd be expected to roll in around noon at the latest.

Sitting at her chair, she cracked open the thick book and started reading. It was a fantasy novel about bickering queens and nobles that was set in an alternative world without princesses, one considered a little advanced for her age but well within the stuff her father had her reading a few years ago. It was the sort of thing Owen read on his side, and it made her wonder if there were other worlds out there and other dreamers like her. Unlike him, she had absolutely no doubts that his world and friends were real, and she hoped that by reading something that was similar to his novels back home but completely different would help with that realization.

By the time the growing cacophony of birds signaled the coming dawn, she'd barely cracked the first quarter of the book, and though she found it riveting, she also found it harder and harder not to nod her head into the pages. Several times she shook herself out of that falling sensation with a jerk. She did her morning wing exercises and full body stretches, and that gave her enough energy to make it through another half hour and about ten more pages before it became too much.

Yawning heavily, she pulled herself towards bed with drooping eyes. "Sorry, Owen." She cracked her jaw, reaching out to close the blinds and oozing into the cloud. "We'll find out what happens to Lady Blackwell next time. Good luck."

Saying all of that out loud still felt weird. He knew, or would soon enough she could only hope that she had bought him some time.

As Princess Luna glided through the starry void of the world of dreams, she watched as millions of sleeping minds popped like soap bubbles with the coming dawn. Each one was a little snow globe hanging in an infinitely fine lace of silver threads, or perhaps peculiar fruit caught like dew in the branches of a vast root system. All of them led to the silver of her moon, and it was from there she left, scattering stars in her wake as she wove in, over, and around those threads towards the twilight staining the horizon. It would never fully rise, but it was a reminder that she was running late if she didn't want Celestia to lower the moon for her.

Ordinarily, vespers and other children of the night would be the only beings going to sleep at this hour, but out the corner of her eye she caught a pearlescent shimmer flickering into existence before being whisked away. That usually meant somepony had just started to dream before pulling out, but the way the bubble had disappeared seemed strange to her.

Though she searched for a time, she did not find the source of the flicker, nor where it had gone. Her sister would have to lower the moon before completing her raising, but Luna was confident her sister wouldn't mind. If anything, she had become more overprotective than ever since her time exiled within the moon.

Even so, after finding nothing, the encounter stuck with her as she returned to the land of the waking, flying into her trancing body with a rush of stars. She peered behind her back at the fading night where her moon had disappeared.

"Is something troubling you, Highness?" one of her guards at the balcony asked, a velvet-winged mare stepping forward.

"Perhaps." Luna rested a hoof against the railing, as though she might leap back into the dream world, but fatigue stole across her. "I have a premonition, but not enough to act on."

She turned her gaze from the day and yawned heavily. "Let my sister know I'll be by later this afternoon. Fair day."

"Sleep well, Princess."

Chapter 4 - Tilting the Scales

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Getting up required Owen to push aside a heavy weight. His whole body fought it, but a beeping from elsewhere in the thin-walled apartment dragged him back to the world whether he wanted to or not. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't experiencing the confusion that had typified the last few days, but, rather than fade into the background, the memories had become starker than ever before. Aside from the way the sleeping medicine still rendered him groggy and listless and that strange abyss, an unbroken line of Light Breeze's thoughts and memories stretched behind him.

Looking around, he felt no less horror at his circumstances than she had ten minutes ago. Most of all, he missed the fact that he couldn't just run over to River Wind and Star Seeker's room to take a quick breath of comfort before facing what lay outside his room.

At the least, he had gained an extra eight hours thanks to her. When he leaned over and felt at the desk for his laptop, though, his hand passed through where it had been and found the charger instead. Panic lending a little more wakefulness, he dug his hand between the mattress and the wall and sighed in relief as Jaime's smartphone came up.

The sight of the time—5:41 am—left him aghast, and he checked the date to be certain. He hadn't been entirely sure when he'd gone to bed, but Light Breeze had been up for just over twenty-four hours, and he couldn't have been asleep for more than twelve.

As he thought about it, though, it did seem unlikely that his mother would have let him sleep through school, and it lent more credence to his—Light Breeze's?—firm belief that it was real. The two blurred together, and he wasn't sure if that was the drugs or something else, but he pushed those concerns aside. Dropping Jaime and Aisha a quick text to let them know that things hadn't gone as they'd hoped, he grabbed a notebook and got to work writing. He didn't know what they could possibly do about it, but the process let him dwell more on the brightness of her life and delay his own darkness.

"Sun and Moon," he muttered, rubbing his face. "What I wouldn't give for Arc Light to yell at."

Looking down at his hands in the wan light from his window as he wrote, he shuddered and shoved them under the covers for a bit, wishing desperately that he could see her family and friends again. He didn't finish writing before it was time to go, but he would have first and second period.

He remained groggy as he ate cereal for breakfast, ignoring the buzz of his family. His mother caught him as he was getting ready to go, though, frowning and tugging at his hair, checking the length. It had almost grown out to his shoulders. "This has got to go."

"What?" He jerked his head over to where Jeremiah sat, hunched with his phone hidden, his own brighter blond hair falling past mid-back. "Jerm's hair is way longer! You can't just shear me; I'm not a sheep!" He ignored his brother's glare, pleading eyes fixing on his mother's.

"You should have thought of that before you almost tore this house apart. Jeremiah is a good boy, so he gets what he wants. We can and we will do whatever it takes to rein you in."

He tried to put all of Light Breeze's adorable filly sympathy into it, a quavering note underlying. It came so easily. "Please, Mom? I'm sorry about last night. I was just hurting so bad, and the nurse kept asking so many questions…"

Her sternness melted just a smidge and she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Fine, whatever. Get going to school, both of you."

Owen ran, more to keep ahead of Jeremiah than out of fear of being late. His back twitched painfully, and every step that landed on his heels reminded him that he didn't have hooves anymore. He even careened into a wall in his haste, his balance thrown without a tail, and yelped as he almost fell down the stairs.

He couldn't wait for the day to be over. The sooner he could get through school and get home, the sooner he could get back to sleep. If he was lucky, he could pass out during class for a while. He knew he couldn't safely abuse the NyQuil forever, but stars help him if he wasn't tempted.

Knowing that the time he spent in one world didn't impact the time he spent in the other suggested he could tilt the scales. The less time he spent in this life, the better.

Owen had less than a week until his self-imposed deadline, and he spent every spare opportunity he could trying to sleep it off along the way. He napped in class, passed out in the bathrooms at school during breaks, and kept to his room as much as possible when at home. It didn't always work—more often than not, he just dozed fitfully, like when he tried to set an alarm at midnight on Wednesday to try and double his time, but just wound up tossing in bed for hours—but, every so often, he felt the abyss pull him back down and welcomed its embrace like an old friend. When it worked, it didn’t matter if a teacher chewed him out later in class, or his father lightly slapped him awake after passing out on the couch before dinner; so long as the dream pulled him under, Light Breeze woke up fresh and clear and got in a full day before turning in.

For her part, Light Breeze was doing her best to live to the fullest. She poked fun at Arc Light just to get into a fight, so she could apologize and hug him as tight as she could, and went to all of her extensive friends’ houses and tried different games. She got her mother to take her out flying on the regular so she could feel the wind and practice for the day her wings would be strong enough to carry her into the sky and formal practice could begin. When she could get away with it, she stayed up late reading or watching the night crews fly over Fillydelphia, clearing the weather for the next day. She even made plans to hop on a train and visit her mother’s parents on the coast, but had to put that off until the planned snowstorms would end. Together, they managed to stretch five of his days into almost two weeks of hers, leaving Nightmare Night in the dust on one end and Halloween barely over on the other.

Pushing her bedtime hours left her sleepy and cranky during the day as she fought to minimize the hours she had to spend asleep, but it seemed a small price, all things considered. Whenever Owen was stung by a negative comment or treated callously or roughly, it wasn’t as though there was some barrier between them she could hide behind. His parents didn’t put up a huge fuss when he started eating dinner in his room, and his father didn’t touch him, perhaps fearing another investigation so soon, but the air had turned decisively against Owen, and he had nothing but cold looks from his family. She carried those insults with her into the day, and exorcising the resulting demons became her primary occupation.

“Light?” A nudge came at her shoulder. “Light Breeze, you’re drifting again.”

“Gah!” Light Breeze squeaked and tumbled over into the snow, stiff-legged. Her eyes had been glazed as they focused on the grey sky, and her friends giggled as she picked herself up and shook, splattering them.

Silver Dust laughed and squealed, shielding herself from the spray with a hoof. Her horn sparked in a futile attempt to conjure a shield, and she wiped down her arctic white coat, a few specks gleaming in her snowflake patterned blue scarf and long sapphire mane. It only made her prettier, really, which seemed like it should be impossible, which made her jealous, which just made her prettier still. “Hey!”

“Sorry.” She yawned heavily, her wings stretching wide as she arched her back. "Must have, uh, faded out a second there."

"You're not kidding," their quiet voiced friend, Soda Pop, said, his own wine coloring stark against the snow scattered over the yard. Older kids were having a snowball war, forts erected in one corner. "You've been, ah, kinda out of it all day."

"Have I?" Light Breeze stuffed a hoof into her mouth as she yawned again, and shuddered as a wave of exhaustion passed through her. "I guess I have. I should probably do a lap or something.

"Or you could nap for a bit?"

"No! No, that would just—" She broke off with a squeak as a griffon boy landed a pace or two away. It hadn't been a full flight so much as a long jump, but he was a few months older and had already started flight school from the looks of it. "Oh, uhm… hi? Can I help you?"

"Hey," he said, brushing back his spiked, dark feathers. He had deep coloring in his plumage and sharp, arresting eyes. "Aren't you that filly who ordered a turkey burger at the Hoof and Claw a couple weeks ago? I'm pretty sure that was you."

Silver Dust and Soda Pop stared at her as she giggled and blushed. "Y-yeah, guilty. That was me."

"Pretty sweet. I've never seen a pony eat like that before. You tore that thing to pieces like a born carnivore." He extended a closed claw. "That's pretty cool in my book."

Feeling a little giddy, her feathers splaying, she bumped her hoof against his knuckles. “Thanks. You’re, let me see if I got it… Jake, right?”

“I thought all griff—” Soda Pop began, cutting off when she hip-checked him.

“Yeah! That’s me. We don’t share any classes, but I’ve seen you around, uh…”

“Light Breeze,” she said brightly. “You know, I’ve got my birthday coming up in a few weeks. You should come! My mom’s a fishermare, so I can guarantee you’ll get something fresh if I tell her you’re coming. And, you know, you’re free to hang out with me whenever.” She stretched, as though trying to show off her wing muscle development. “Though, right now, I think I’m going to go for a run or something.”

“I’d dig that.” He lifted his wings and jerked his head over towards some griffon kids peering at him from the side of the school, colorful cards dotting the ground before them. “I kinda blew off a match to come say hi, so I should head on back anyway.”

“Oh! Is that Pokemon?” She leaned up on her hooftips for a better look, pegasus eyes focusing.

“Uh… what’s… Pokemon?” Suddenly he was the one embarrassed, not wanting to sound like he didn’t know something cool.

“Ah! I mean, uh—” She turned bright red. “Monstrakrieg? From the griffon kingdoms.”

“Yeah! That’s the one. You play?”

“No, but I’d like to learn sometime.”

“Cool. Come by whenever you feel up to it. Don’t worry.” He flared his wings, kicking off into the air to glide back to the others. “We don’t bite!”

Soda Pop stared after him, frowning with his wavy tail lashing. “Did he just fly, like, forty paces he could have easily walked?” He turned to peer at Light Breeze suspiciously. “Are you…? You’re giving him an awful weird look, Light.”

Silver Dust blinked, her head turning from Light Breeze to the griffons in their corner and back. “I didn’t think it was odd. That’s just the look she gives me like six times a day.”

The silence from Soda Pop was deafening.

“Hah!” Light Breeze’s wings puffed up. “Well! I should, woof…” She made it a few steps away across the cold ground and felt her heart race a little as she caught herself. “Maybe pass on the run.”

“I’ll say.” Silver Dust came up to her and put the back of her hock against her neck. “You’re very chilly for a pegasus right now, Light. Why don’t we head inside and warm up?”

Biting back another yawn, she nodded and let them lead the way. They came to a rest area with wide, backless lounging chairs, and she settled onto one. Silver Dust laid out on her side while Light Breeze propped on her haunches, and Soda Pop settled on the edge. “You haven’t been sleeping well?”

“Oh, no, I’ve been sleeping great.” Light Breeze hesitated, her wits unwinding as Silver Dust faced her squarely. “Well… I guess I’ve been staying up late a lot. I’ve been working on a project.”

“Is that what I see you writing all the time?” Soda Pop asked, getting out an apple to munch on. “You’re so shy about it; it’s not like you. Normally you just blurt whatever you’re thinking at the top of your lungs.”

Coughing, Light Breeze nodded. “Yeah, that. It’s, uhm… it’s about my dreams.”

“Really?” Silver Dust shifted upright. “Could I see?”

Lightning crashed through her nerves at the thought, her wings lifted defensively. “N-no! I… it’s not ready. I’m still working on it.”

Her ears laid flat, but she nodded. Or so Light Breeze assumed, anyway, as she found herself laying across Dust's midsection and yawning perilously.

"Aww." She giggled. "Look who's a sleepy little horse."

"Yuh huh. Hey, Silver? Your mom's an apothecary, right?"

"Yeah?" She brushed her mane back to look at her.

"Could I ask for a stay-awake potion?" Her head drooped, and she pulled it up. "I can pay with my allowance. I already checked, and I guess that's not over the counter."

"It isn't. It can be dangerous if used too much." Silver Dust frowned and thumped her tail against the couch. "Are you sure? Is your project that important?"

"I…" She shifted her hooves. "I just don't want to see my dreams that much."

Before she could hear her answer, though, she faded, blipping out of existence between one heartbeat and the next.

Owen jolted faintly, face pressed to one of his journals at a secluded table out beneath a bare tree. Some of the ink had smeared, and he rubbed the side of his face with a sleeve groggily.

"So," Tim said from the side, holding one of the journals, "this is what you've been dreaming about?"

"Hey!" Swiping for it didn't work. He subconsciously had his fingers pressed straight out, as though he still had a hoof. "That's private!"

"Light Breeze, huh? And 'Fillydelphia.'" He crinkled his nose as if at a bad smell. "Are you for real?"

His second attempt was more successful, snatching it back and hugging it to his chest. "I don't get to decide what I dream about."

"That's for sure. You dream of a old-timey version of the city filled with cute little ponies instead of something badass." Tim pulled out his phone. "Why are you a girl?"

Owen blushed darkly and stared at the table. "I guess that's just how it worked out. I've been doing it my whole life. How long was I out?"

"Like five minutes? Dunno, you were passed out when I got here."

"Well, over there I just spent like six hours in that five minute time, and I'm kind of in a hurry to get back." He started to shovel the journals back in. He wasn't worried about losing his place, since each was labeled and numbered. "Not that I will, I guess. Once I'm up, it's hard to get back to dreaming again."

Tim watched him doubtfully. "You remember back in 4th grade, this kid, Reagan? He told me about a secret version of Skyrim that only he had access to, one that was way more complicated and had the whole continent with complicated decisions and characters who actually seemed to have lives. I bought every line until you told me he was stringing me along with a story."

"That was Reagan. He was a pathological liar or something." Owen felt at the fabric of his backpack. "It feels as real as anything here. Light Breeze's life feels real. If you read that whole journal, you'll see. Every time I just pick up where I left off."

"I dunno, man. I think you might just be nuts."

Owen flinched, turning to look deliberately at kids playing handball against the wall of the gym. "Even if I was, you shouldn't use that word. It's not helpful to the mentally ill."

"Aisha and Jaime tell you that?" Tim asked dryly. "You know everyone here knows that they're totally schizoid, right? They're completely crazy, and from all your little chats it sounds like they're buying into this fantasy."

"I don't give a fuck what everypony thinks!" Owen rounded on him, making him jolt back a bit. "They're better friends than you've ever been! No one on this side of the abyss treats me like they do." Owen choked up and groaned, pressing his face into his hands. "I wish I could stay forever, even if it meant saying goodbye to them. I have friends over there, people who like and care about me. I hate it here. It's disgusting."

"Every… pony. Okay." Tim didn't run off just then, adjusting his jacket as if to cover for his fright. "All you got is a radio in your house. Barely anyone has a TV, only video games are in an arcade. Their technology sounds way behind."

"Who gives a shit?" Owen pointed at the camps outside, already thinning as some of the homeless started to migrate to warmer pastures. "What good is technology if no one's using it to help others? Most of the profits go to lining the bank accounts of jerks who don't need it. At least over there, I know I'll have a career that will be fulfilling instead of some pointless, menial task for the rest of my life, and even if I fall on hard times, no one hesitates to give you room and board anyway."

"Sounds like a utopia that could never happen."

"I don't care. I don't believe that, either—humans cooperate just fine when they don't have an oppressive system around them or toxic bullshit." Owen sighed, slumping. "We could all benefit from dreaming about being colorful horses, in my opinion."

"You talk like you aren't one." As Owen didn't answer, Tim's frown deepened. "Fine, whatever. I know none of you like me very much, but you're my only real friend, and I'm telling you that you need to stop whatever it is you're doing. My uncle is a therapist; one of the best in the city. I'm sure if I ask, he'll give you sliding scale, maybe even free for a few sessions. This is delusional."

Deep down, Owen very much wanted to tell him to fuck off, but the best parts of him disagreed. Even unlikely people can become friends, given faith, and if there's any grace of magic within him, it would come from friendship.

Besides, he still nursed a little doubt, even as the lines between him and Light Breeze had become progressively more blurred.

"Tomorrow morning, when we're supposed to have PE, I'm going to present all of my journals to the Gaines sibs," he said at last. "Jaime believes me, Aisha is on the fence, and you can be the neighsayer. If you can see all of my evidence and make a compelling case, I will take you up on your offer." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not always a great friend, either. I've been avoiding you all week over this."

"S'fine," he muttered, a little shy in the face of Equestrian sincerity. "Whatever, dork. I'll see you then, then."

"Yeah."

Using techniques to sleep more effectively, Owen managed to get two good sessions in with Light Breeze, and with the addition of a keep-awake potion stretched four hours into almost five days. It left him positively glowing, if a little tired, as he turned up to the kitchen to make his dinner before the others showed up.

Having five days behind him and a screwed up sleeping schedule left him a little confused as to what was going on with his human family, not that he cared. Vaguely, he was aware that his parents had been fighting. Seeing a calendar and realizing that it was only Thursday was jarring, but he got over it.

From the back of the counter he grabbed the little crock pot that only he used—set before his last three day break—extracting the squash he'd been breaking down for a pasta, and started cooking mushrooms and spinach in a pan while a pot of noodles boiled. He—or, rather, Light Breeze—had asked her parents for cooking lessons, and he smiled as he remembered how bad at it he'd been just a few days ago, burning a big mushroom they didn't have on Earth and forgetting the rice. He wasn't a gourmet by any means, but he'd gone from frozen, lifeless bean burritos to making a squash ragu in under a day from a human perspective.

"That smells amazing. Mom, what are you…?" Jeremiah came from the hallway and stopped, glaring. "Oh, it's just you."

"It's just me." Owen dumped the pasta, reserving a cup, recalling as he did his dad teaching him about reserving some of the starchy water to thicken the sauce. Not even his hated brothers could bring him down now, not unless they punched him.

Jeremiah set his phone down on the back of the couch, locking it, but not before Owen caught a glimpse of an image that he really wished he hadn't. It was weird, since it was all the way across the room, but he could make out a scrap of text and a rather suggestive image. "I don't see where you get off being so smug. Our parents are fighting because of you."

"Good?" He licked the spoon. Needed more salt. His mother had used her wings, just the tip of one feather, to distribute the perfect amount of salt on a dish. He would have to make do with his disgusting fingers. "Why should I care? Why should you care, Jerm? You called CPS on him last year. Maybe May's finally seeing sense. Little too late for me to give a shit."

For a moment as he watched his little brother putter around the kitchen with a skip in his step, Jeremiah seemed dumbfounded. "That was wrong, and you know it. He's hardworking. He doesn't give a shit about liberal hand-wringing about time-outs. He's teaching us to survive in the real world, like real men."

Owen's ear twitched. Though it couldn't move, he knew what it meant. He waited until he could hear the keys in the lock, and then he turned to regard Jeremiah with a cold gaze. "Oh, yeah? Do real men look at furry porn on their phones? Are you the little stag or the big one?"

His face went white, and he sputtered, but he couldn't dare say or do a thing as Frank stepped inside.

Jeremiah's father was a big man, and even when it wasn't a holiday his breath usually smelled like beer after a shift. He was surlier—and earlier—than usual as he shucked his coat. "May? What's that smell? Are you making rabbit food for the—" He broke off at the sight of Owen. "Oh. It's just you."

May bustled in from the hall. "I'm getting dinner ready; don't get your panties in a bunch." She paused to stare at Owen's work in the kitchen. "You better not be ruining any of my good pans. I expect you to clean that up."

"I'll get out of your mane in just a sec." Owen huffed and mixed the pasta in with the sauce, letting them simmer together before dumping the lot into a large, glass container. "I'll clean up tonight. You were going to make sloppy joes, so all you need is the big saucepan, anyways."

As he made his way back to his room, a meaty hand grabbed his shoulder, and he looked up to find Frank glaring at him. "Don't you talk to your mother like that. You heard her. She said to clean the pots, and, when we ask you something, we expect you to do it yesterday."

"I've got it handled, Frank." May put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"Oh, really?" Frank growled. "Then would you care to explain why my son is such a disrespectful little princess? You're coddling these kids, May."

"Oh, and your way is working so much better? Not going to be much of a provider if you get thrown in jail. I'm all for spanking, but you're taking it too far."

Light Breeze had asked her parents if they ever spanked, having no memory of it. They'd had no idea what she was talking about, and so she'd had to explain. The notion of ever striking their kids or touching them in a rough way filled them with such revulsion they had turned several shades of green. They had asked which of her friends was being treated like that, so they could rescue them at once.

She hadn't had the heart to tell them that it was her, nor that it was worse than spanking, nor that there wasn't a thing they could do about it if they did know.

What he'd really have liked to have done was slip away in the fight, but Frank kept his grip firm, and so he went back to the kitchen and ate in snatches alongside doing the dishes. Jeremiah just sat in the corner of the room and pretended he heard nothing.

In the process, he was able to sneak another dose of NyQuil. He finished the bottle, in fact, which was probably for the best considering that he had been using it nightly, and put it back rather than risk being noticed throwing it out. He needed to look up how long he could safely use it sometime.

Assuming he cared enough to use it safely.

“Boy,” his father ordered, “come over here. Sit at the table; we’re going to eat like a family.”

The scent of ground beef inexpertly simmered in ketchup made his stomach do flips, and the NyQuil was already kicking in hard, but he didn’t see a way out of it. Taking his bowl of pasta, he scooped out a bit more onto a small plate and packed the rest away into the fridge, then brought it over with a glass of water.

“What even is that?” May asked, looking at the clumpy orange mass on his plate studded with pasta. He’d not really done it as perfectly as his father had shown him, but it came out delicious anyway.

“Squash ragu with mushrooms.” He did his best not to make eye contact with anypony and to breathe through his mouth alone.

“Where’d you learn to make that? I’ve never seen you cook anything more complicated than canned beans.”

“A dream.”

Adam spat his drink back into his cup, laughing. “Good one. No shit?”

“Don’t swear,” May snapped.

“The boy can swear if he wants to, May.” Frank took a long swig of his beer. “He just got into Liberty on a football scholarship. They won’t let him say a damned thing out of line there. Just the sort of thing you need, not one of those places where they brainwash you.”

Maybe it was all that time he was spending as Light Breeze, or maybe it was the need to be hypervigilant to look out for warning signs in Frank, but it seemed that Adam’s glance to the side was a little more evasive than it should have been. “That’s right, Dad. They’re pretty strict still. Don’t worry about me; I’ll keep on the good path.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” Frank cast a doubtful look at the other side of the table, where Jeremiah and Owen sat. “Some of my boys don’t seem inclined to take their futures seriously. I know you haven’t been doing your homework, Owen, and I don't even know what to say about you, Jeremiah.”

With the NyQuil dulling his senses Owen should have been more afraid, but he sat up and looked Frank in the eye. Maybe it was just some good old-fashioned pegasus verve giving him bravery. “Jeremiah’s fine. He’s in AP classes, and he has a decent chance of getting a scholarship if he doesn’t drink himself into addiction, something you don’t seem inclined to put any brakes on.”

It was like he could feel his feathers puffing up defensively, setting his feet wide under the table like a battle stance. It was all he could do not to snort defiantly, and he failed to notice the growing silence around the table. “All you ever seem to care about is how masculine we are. If Jeremiah or I act the least bit effeminate, you stomp on that like you’re trying to put out a fire. Do you think punishing him every time he looks at guys the wrong way is going to keep him from growing up gay, or whatever he is? Does it really make you feel like the big head stallion of the herd to stomp on whoever is the least bit different?”

Frank’s face grew more and more red as Owen went on. When Owen stopped, he slammed his hand into the table, rattling the cups and making everyone jump. “How dare you? You don’t get to talk like that to your father!”

“You’re not my father!” Owen snapped back, slamming his forelegs—his hands—into the table. “My real father is loving, caring, sweet, and wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone his own foals, and you are none of those things!”

His first flicker of fear came as Frank, banging his knee in his haste, scrambled to his feet. He hissed with pain, and May jumped up as well. “Frank? Don’t you dare. If they come into this house again, it’s going to look bad.” Not “you shouldn’t hurt our child” or “this is wrong,” nor any of the other things she should have said.

“You heard what that little shit said to me!”

“I did, and he is going to know it.” She pointed down the hall. “You go right down to your room, and you had better be praying.”

Owen didn’t need an invitation. He practically ran down the hall, and would have galloped if the means were available to him, slamming himself in and quaking on the bed. He immediately burrowed beneath it, knowing that there was only one escape. Despite his pounding heart, the chemicals along with counting and breathing exercises dragged him down past the abyss.

Light Breeze’s eyes snapped open, her heart pounding in her chest as she clutched the covers of her bed with her hooves. She whimpered and sobbed quietly into the sheets.

“I can’t go back,” she whispered. “I won’t. I’ll stay here with my real family forever.” She sniffled and choked. “I’m sorry, Jaime and Aisha. I hope I never get a chance to see you two again. I’ll miss you.”

Kicking off the sheets, she went to start herself a shower so she could continue to cry in peace and begin planning how to stay awake forever.

Chapter 5 - But You Can't Fight Forever

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Light Breeze’s eyes flew open, her heart thundering in her little chest as her hooves slammed into her desk. She’d been drifting, she knew it, felt the awful dip of herself tumbling into sleep. One look down at her soft, teal legs with the white "socks" above her hooves had been enough to reassure her that she hadn't lost her streak, but it would be a while yet before her breathing evened out.

The other students in the classroom all turned to stare as the sound of the clatter echoed through the room, and their teacher paused mid-breath. He’d frozen with a hoof against the blackboard where a poster—its housing carved from a single piece of wood and weighted at the end—had been unrolled with a diagram of the cell, and turned to glance back at her. “Sun and Moon, Light Breeze—you startled me.” He ran a hoof through his mane to the giggles of the other students as he turned towards her desk near the window. “Is something wrong? You don’t look… well. We can send you to the nurse if you’re not feeling all right.”

Taking in the dust stirred by the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the classroom, the birds chirping outside in the curving branches of the trees, Light Breeze carefully flexed her hooves and settled her wings against her back and sides. “No, sir. I’m exactly where I need to be. I’m very sorry. I think I’m just a little tired is all.”

That was putting it mildly.

Concern flickered across his face, a slight frown turning at the edges of his muzzle, and pulled the poster to let it zip back up into its housing with a clank. “Tell you what. If you can name, uh, six parts of the cell, I’ll know you were listening, and I won’t send you to—”

Light Breeze sat up, wings spreading faintly, so eager she cut him off. “Membrane, nucleus, cytoplasm, ribosomes, mitochondria, endoplasmic reticulum.”

“Very good!” His face lit up in delight. “Very good. I guess somepony was paying attention today. Light Breeze, you—” He stopped, frowning and pawing a hoof in confusion. “Sorry, what was that, uhm, fifth one? A mito-what?”

A blush crept up her ears as her wings snapped shut. “I’m sorry, sir. I meant the pneuma. The part where Harmony breathes magic into the cell.”

The laughter of the other students rang over her, but it wasn’t their little japes that made her droop like a wilting flower. Over and over again she kicked herself, wishing she’d never heard of anything called the powerhouse of a cell. Mostly, though, she concentrated on not drifting off again by chewing the inside of her cheek whenever she felt drowsy. Much as she thought her teacher was a nice stallion, she already knew this subject backwards and front, more or less, from the other world.

As the bell rang, she packed up her saddlebags and looked left to where Silver Dust was making a show putting her things away in her bag with her magic. Every chance she got, she moved something with her shimmering silver aura no matter how much quicker or more convenient it was, as though anyone could forget that she’d finally “mastered” how. Never mind that the wobbly, shaky motion of her textbook betrayed her inexperience, Light Breeze loved her for it. “Hey, Dust. Do you wanna head out to the arcade?”

“Sure!” Answering made her lose her concentration, and she yelped as her biology textbook lost its aura and plummeted.

Light Breeze tried to catch it in a hoof, but couldn’t make it grip, and the book clattered off to the floor and creased a few pages. She stared down at the treacherous limb and shuddered. “I’m sorry.”

“You tried, Light.” She slid out from the desk and picked it up with her mouth rather than risk her magic again. “It’s fine. It’s fine.” She made a futile attempt to smooth the pages with her silver-blue hooves before shoving it in her back, sucking in a breath, and trotting off. “It’s fi-i-ine. Just a textbook. Let’s go! I wanna get there before the lines form.”

As Light Breeze made to follow, though, the teacher cleared his throat, and she froze mid-step as he called her name. “Y-yes, Mr. Pitcher?” she asked as she slunk up to his desk.

Closer up, he could probably see what a state she was in. Dark circles ringed red, bloodshot eyes. Her attention drifted, her feet wobbled with every hoofstep, and her heart was still pounding quietly in her barrel.

“Light Breeze, is there something you want to tell me?” He came around the desk and slid a hoof onto her withers. Only her wings were immaculate, every feather in place barring the wear and tear of a normal day. In another context, a grown male putting a hoof around her would have alarmed her, but she knew nothing she feared would happen here. “You look like, well, like you just crawled out of Tartarus. Is there trouble at home?”

“No, sir. Not with my folks. I’ve just…” She scuffed her hoof, refusing to look him in the eyes. “I’ve just been having trouble sleeping.”

“What’s wrong?”

Sucking in a breath, she looked up to him, hoping he couldn’t see the horror she felt deep inside through her exhausted eyes. “Bad dreams.”

Light Breeze knew it was only a matter of time. Silver Dust gamely tried her best to keep her awake as they spent a couple hours and a small pile of bits at the arcade with its flashing lights and sounds, but she kept nodding off, dropping combos left and right on Hooves of Fury, a fighting game she normally creamed her in. After the third barely contested victory in a row, she turned and nudged her with her shoulder. “Maybe you should just go to sleep, Light? I know your dreams are pretty bad, but I think you’re gonna pass out in the middle of traffic or something. Three days have gotta be enough, right?”

“Uh, well.” Light Breeze yawned, but it only lit more desperation under her. “It’s been a little more than, uh, three days this time.” She turned to her bag and pulled a thermos out of it, unscrewing the cap and guzzling disgusting, black coffee. “See?” She coughed pitifully. “I’m fine.”

Dust’s ears lay flat. “Light, you’re scaring me. This has gotta stop sometime. How… how long has it been?”

Light Breeze didn’t answer her, staring at the screen.

“How long?”

She tried not to meet Silver Dust’s eyes, but a haze of magic jerked her chin over, and she quaked. She would sooner die than lie to her. “Almost… almost six days.”

“What?” Her eyes opened wide in abject horror. “Light Breeze, that’s… that’s… you can’t use the potion that long! I thought you were just using it now and again!” She puffed out her cheeks. “You abused my trust, and I’m not going to put up with it any longer! Do you have any idea how bad the side effects can get? You’re not getting another drop from me, even if you pay!”

“You don’t tell me that!” Light Breeze snapped without warning, wings flaring and puffing up as her manner changed in an instant. “I can’t sleep! I won’t! I won’t have to if you give me my fucking potion, Silver!”

Backing up with a hoof raised defensively, Dust stared at her with wide eyes. Tears gathered at the corners.

At the sight of her distress, Light Breeze’s guts turned to ice. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she lowered her eyes and head to stare at the ground. “Du-Dust, I’m… I’m so sorry, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I would never want to yell at you, Silver Dust. You’re my best friend forever, and I’d never, ever leave if I could. I’m so sorry…”

Her heart thundered in her chest, even without the caffeine pumping its way through her veins.

“You need to sleep, Light!” Silver Dust demanded, her loud sniffling fading. “You’re having mood swings, and you look like you’re going to keel over and die. I don’t think anyone can help you with that. You can’t fight sleep forever.” Dust stomped a hoof, her face lowered, and tossed her sapphire mane. “You’re going home, right now!”

Light Breeze peeped up at her with wide, watering eyes. “Please, Dust–”

“Nuh uh! Don’t you ‘Please, Dust’ me! I’ve been letting you use those big puppy dog eyes to trick me into trying to help keep you up for way too long! Either you go home and sleep, or I’m going to your house and telling your parents just how long you’ve been awake.” Her voice fell to a warble, the lights of the arcade cabinet casting her distressed features into shadow as she turned her head. “I’m so worried about you. You won’t even tell me what you’re so afraid of. Would it kill you if somepony knew?”

Light Breeze couldn’t answer that, not honestly, but she could see she was defeated. Her entire body felt like lead. At that point, Dust could have dragged her back herself, tiny unicorn frame or no, and she’d have been hard pressed to fight back. “I’m sorry. You win, Dust. Please, just… let’s go home. If I’m going to have to sleep, I don’t want it to be here.”

Nuzzling at her neck, Dust pressed at her shoulder. “Just lean a wing on me, okay? It’s just one dream, and, besides, don’t you want to be rested up for flying practice? You’ve been looking forward to it your entire life.”

“Yeah.” Light Breeze sighed, draping a wing across her and leaning in. “I guess I can look forward to that while I’m dreaming, at least.”

“One day, you really need to explain what that’s all about. I mean, really explain it, not just vaguely hint about it while being all cryptic and mournful.” Despite being much lighter than her friend and having Light Breeze’s books and the buckle of her saddlebags dig into her side, she never complained once as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and made their way through the snow-covered streets of Fillydelphia. “I’m worried about you, and you’re my bestie, so you gotta be able to tell me everything, right?”

Light Breeze didn’t answer aloud, but deep down she reiterated the old promise that she never, ever would, for that very same reason.

Never, in a million, billion years would Light Breeze ever blame her parents for having missed her state up until Silver Dust all but dragged her up the steps of their narrow row house and through the door. Indeed, when she heard her mother gasp from the second story and leap down with spreading wings to land lightly beside her and scoop her up, she could only whimper “I’m sorry” before burying her face in her coat. She drank in her scent, her mother still a little damp from a long day’s work in the water, and felt a peace she knew wouldn’t last long.

A few minutes later, after promising Silver Dust that she’d be okay, she found herself with a bowl of soup at the table and some crackers, sipping from it quietly while her mother and father stared at her from across the varnished table reflecting the glow of the hanging lamp. Arc Light, had been sent to bed, but she knew he’d be lurking in the shadows of the bannister near the second story to listen.

Her father was the one to start, after making sure she had enough to eat. He pulled off his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his horn casting a shadow across his face. “Honey, what’s going on?” His slight frame seemed somehow leaner, as though worry had drawn out what little meat he had on his bones. “Why did Silver Dust have to practically drag you home?”

Light Breeze shook her head faintly, mumbling. Her mane hung lank about her face and neck.

“Didn’t catch that; didn’t need to.” Her mother pressed her hooves and wingtips against the table as she half-rose in her seat. “Light Breeze, you’re doing the ‘I’m not going to sleep’ thing again, aren’t you?”

Her guilty mumble was all the answer they needed, sharing a look. “All right. You’re going to bed right now.”

Desperate to prolong her sentence, Light Breeze looked down at the soup she had been nursing without much progress. “But—”

Her father shook his head, a pale blue light surrounding her “No ifs, ands, or buts young lady. We’re going right now.” He courted her into the air in front of him. She couldn’t hear his hooves over the hum of her father’s magic, but her brother wasn’t in sight on the second floor as they trotted down the hall.

Desperately, she beat her wings, managing to push herself in the air over towards the shared bathroom. “I should shower! I’m kind of gross.” Her hooves slipped and slid across the door frame as her mother gave her a little push with her nose, sending her tumbling to the end of the hall. Her mother opened the door so she could be floated right inside, and pulled back the sheets on her cloud bed. The soft, shifting mists contained within the pale wood frame might as well have been a slab at the morgue as far as she was concerned.

The aura cut out as she floated over it, and she bounced a couple times before settling in place. She could already feel its siren call, gravity sucking her down into its gentle embrace, and helpless tears stained her cheeks. The moon’s light fell in beneath her blinds, cutting a warped rectangle on her carpet.

Hearing her whimpers, her mother frowned and set her hooves on the mattress. Her father could only sit on the frame without putting his body entirely through the cloud. “Honey… please, talk to us. Why don’t you want to sleep so bad? We’ve never heard you have night terrors, not even a peep. Whenever we come in here, you’re sleeping soundly. We’ve tried doctors, and all they say is that it’s a phase you’re going to pass through. Can it really be that bad?”

Her father reached out, scooping her closer with her hoof. “I just wish we understood. It’s not like this all the time. I mean, yes, you’ve fought us on a lot of nights—”

“A lot of nights,” her mother reiterated, sounding near as exhausted as Light Breeze felt.

“—but you’ve never been like this before. Was the last bad dream particularly bad?”

Light Breeze ducked her head. Maybe it was the fact that she was utterly destroyed with how exhausted she was, but where she normally wouldn’t have bothered, she whispered, “It’s not the last dream. That one was bad, but it wasn’t that one. It’s the next one. That’s the one I don’t want to have.”

She knew they wouldn’t really understand. Even the little bits and fragments of the truth she had shared only made them more upset, more worried that something might be wrong with her that couldn’t be helped.

They were right, if not in the way they feared, but telling them would break their hearts, and she couldn’t bear that.

“I’m not sure I understand.” Her father nosed at her mane as she trembled. “You know what you’re going to dream next?”

“I… I don’t know what it’s going to be like,” she whispered, dodging into a half truth. “Exactly.”

“Well, maybe it won’t be as bad as you think?” Her mother’s wing was so soft against her back she wanted to cry again. “That’s happened before, right? You’ve been anxious about bedtimes before, like a few years ago before Silver Dust’s birthday sleepover, but you woke up feeling right as summer rain, didn’t you?”

Light Breeze sniffled, smiling a little. “Was that a pun, Mom? Summer Rain was there, too.”

“It got the sun peeking from behind your cloud, didn’t it?”

“I love you both, so, so much.” Light Breeze wrapped her wings around both of them, or as much of them as she could with her filly’s wingspan. The muscles of her second shoulders were strong for her age, and when flight school came she knew she’d be ready for it. “I think… I think you’re the best parents ever, and I’m so sorry that I’m scaring you. I’ll be good, I promise, if it’ll make you both happy.”

“We want you to be happy for you, hon,” her father said, ears pinning back, but he couldn’t help but be warmed as he hugged her.

As the two of them rose, she grabbed her mother’s tail in her teeth. “Mom? Could you… could you stay with me, just this once?”

Her parents exchanged another glance, and her mother looked back at her. “I thought you felt you were a little too old for that, honey. You made a big stink about it, remember?”

“I do, but… I was wrong. Please?” She sniffled. “I… I just want to know that you’re going to be the first thing I see when I wake up. It’ll help me through the dream if… if it’s bad. I want to know that I have this waiting for me in the morning.”

The look on her mother’s face suggested her heart might shatter into a thousand pieces if it were tugged any harder. Brushing back her crimson mane, she nodded and slid onto the cloud beside her. Her father pulled up the sheets with his magic, kissing her and her mother on the cheeks before slipping out.

Her mother tucked her against her belly and enfolded her in a wing, enshrouding her in all the love and affection she could muster. “Better, Light Breeze? Not so afraid?”

With complete honesty, she nodded vigorously and wormed deeper. “I think… I think I can be brave and bear it, for you and Dad and Arc Light and Silver Dust.”

“Even your brother? Wow.” Her mother giggled, nuzzling her and closing her eyes. “Now I know you must be scared.”

“He’s not so bad.” Light Breeze yawned pitifully, the world pulling hard on her now. “I could think of worse siblings.”

As the last shreds of her fortnight-long battle with slumber faltered beneath her own overwhelming fatigue, she peeked through her mother’s primaries to the moon still rising silver and lovely in the velvet sky. Her father said that, ever since she’d returned, Princess Luna would guard the dreams of all who lay beneath her former prison’s gaze, but Light Breeze had never seen any evidence of it, had no conception of how it could even be possible in her case. It felt like a myth, one that her mother and father had given up telling her. Even so, as her eyelids slowly crept closed, she whispered a prayer, begging Luna to come spare her sleep, for her family’s sake if not hers.

All that effort, and she hadn't even lasted a week. She felt pathetic, but above all she felt ashamed for scaring her family and friends, and the deception burned in her throat.

Turning her head to bury her face against her mother, she continued to fight sleep for as long as she could. She hoped that, maybe, if she could delay the next dream long enough, she might bypass it entirely. No matter how hard she struggled, though, it stole over her so fast and so suddenly that she had no chance to resist, and dragged her down into its murky depths.

Owen’s eyes flew open at a crash, his breath catching in his throat. With a pounding heart, he jolted upright on the bed, gathering the sheets in his grip. For a while, he stared around at his surroundings as if he couldn’t comprehend where he’d woken up. A siren blared in the distance over Philadelphia, its wail ghosting through the old apartment, but it was the banging of a pot in the kitchen that had woken him up, not some distant emergency.

It was a dusty little room with dirty, bare walls and windows that hadn't been changed properly in a while, and for a moment he hoped that, maybe, he really had just jumped forward in time, but it was really just as disgusting as it always had been. His hands didn't want to work right, but he managed to fish out his phone and see that, for all that he'd spent two weeks as Light Breeze, it was only Saturday morning.

Saturday morning in his personal hell. Even the sight of his face in the black of the phone's off screen made him sick to his stomach.

With mounting desperation, he pulled the quilt back over his eyes and tried to get back to sleep, to call upon his waking drowsiness and return. He tried to count, picturing winged horses flying through the sky, picturing their feathers and coats in as much detail as he could as he imagined them soaring by.

He got to thirteen before the cover was yanked back down, a scowling, stubbled man looking down at him. “Christ on a stick. You’d spend your whole life sleeping if you could.” He slapped his cheek—lightly, but it stung all the same. “Get up, boy.”

The man was a stranger for several moments, the reason why he was waking him lost in memory, but it came crashing back. Frank, Owen's sire. Monster.

Owen did his best not to cry from his despair or flinch at the scent of his breath. It would only provoke him further. The nightmare had come all the same, and no amount of procrastination on his part had kept it from coming. “Dad, if it’s about yesterday, I’m sorry.” He tried not to sound like his voice was breaking, too, but he didn’t quite succeed as it warbled in fear. “It was just a stupid thing. I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t!” Frank barked. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Owen.”

Owen froze up, eyes wide. His breath came fast, and his heart dropped. It wasn’t so much being yelled at, seeing that face. It was what he imagined he’d looked like when he’d yelled at Silver Dust.

“You think it’s easy to raise kids? That my putting a roof over your head is a joke? All you do is sleep around the house, creeping around like a little mouse, nibbling at our food while your brothers are working, and you have the gall, after all that, to tell me to my face that I’m not your father?”

Not daring to make another word, to move a muscle, Owen stared up at him and tried to think of flying lessons, of his mother making him hover for hours, and of the warm presence he so desperately wanted to wake back up to; anything to try and distract him from this awful moment.

Just like his attempts to stave off sleep, though, Owen could not prolong his fate.

“I said get up.” Frank threw the quilt into the easy chair. “You’re not sorry right now, but, once I’m done with you? You will be.”

Chapter 6 - Still, the Moon's Light Shines

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In more ancient days, ponies would weave tales and spin yarns of impossibly old alicorns, painting an image of vast beings with a hoof at the pulse of fate itself in all of its workings. An exaggeration, but any alicorn worth her salt had learned early on to keep a weather eye on the horizon for signs and portents, omens and fortunes. To Princess Luna, it felt as though they came far less often than they had in the time before her exile, but the sensation was no less real when it came. A stirring churned in her gut, a faint tingle, as if another pony had stepped on the grave that, with some luck, she'd never have to face herself.

It came very near to interrupting her raising of the moon, and she was grateful the only ponies around to watch her stumble were her faithful guards. After gazing up at it for a minute, watching its cool, silver light bathe the countryside, she turned from the parapets and descended into the dim hallways of her castle. Its slender spires jutted from a mountain far from Canterlot, and it stirred with life as she walked through its stately halls.

Vespers, the precious velvet-winged ponies who had adopted her as one of their own long ago, stirred like bats in the belfries, descending from hammocks and kicking open the doors to their rooms to yawn in the shelter of night. One by one, they leapt from their perches and spread their wings to glide through the halls to stream out into the countryside. They called her name, wishing her well on her evening journeys, and she could not help but smile back and bid them well in turn.

Whisper Lark awaited her in the antechambers to her bedroom, as close to an office like her sister’s as she had, the mare shuffling through letters on the polished desk. She was in a delicate condition, as they might have said in Luna’s more reserved day—pregnant, in this modern age—her rounded belly just peeking through her ceremonial cape. “Good eve, Highness.”

"Fair night, Whisper. How are you and the girls?" Luna came around to open a silver tray, offering half of the meal there to her majordomo. "Please, help yourself. My cooks must be in league with my sister; they always prepare far too much for a pony such as myself."

As ever, Whisper waved it off with a pale wing. A pair of her clansmares rested almost invisibly in the rafters above, white wings closed. The alabaster-winged Moonflower clan were not the only ones dwelling in the castle, but they were the only ones to call it their ancestral home, and the only ones who attended her within its walls. "I wouldn't dream of it, my princess." She draped a wing over her swollen form. "Evening Gleam and Autumn Glory are restless. I sing in their formless dreams, but they are impatient to meet the air." She met her eyes, curious. "Have you ever given birth, Princess?"

"Me? No." Luna chuckled, searching through the papers on her desk as she nibbled at the salad. "I've known lovers, of course, in the ages before my banishment, but the time never felt right for a foal of my own. My sister has evidently had the same reticence, though at times I wonder about Twilight Sparkle."

"Doesn't she have a known mother?"

"You would be surprised at the lengths to which my sister could carry on a game." Luna laughed, though she tried not to dwell on the possibility. "Speaking of my sister, has anything critical come up?"

"Just the usual. Requests for your attendance at ceremonies, offered slots at court, inspections of the frontier."

“Decline them all.” Luna bit back a faint sigh. “Not that I am displeased with my sister’s attempts to reintegrate me into the government, but it oft feels like busy work. I’d rather dive right back into dreams.”

“We will do our best to support you as ever.”

Luna smiled. “Yes, my friend. The vespers have stepped up beautifully, and you have my regards. In a way, I’m pleased you do so well managing Equestria. It allows me to look beyond our borders.” She frowned suddenly, her tail twitching back and forth as a wave of nausea raced through her.

"What is it?" Whisper Lark came to her side. "Is it that premonition you mentioned some time ago?"

"Yes. I've just had it again, very powerfully. Have any letters come asking my aid that seem serious? I don't see anything that seems critical here."

"Just the usual deluge of requests for good dreams, the occasional puerile message I dispose of 'ere it ever reaches your eyes, and the sort of incidental nightmares you typically find and deal with on your own." She swished her white tail. "Were you expecting something?"

"Yes. Put out a notice in the papers. Nothing alarming, but ask for information on anypony who might be experiencing unusual or discordant dreams and sleep schedules. In fact, send out a message to the clans to keep an eye out. There's a pony out there who is in great distress, but no matter how hard or how long I search, I cannot seem to locate them. It's like they simply disappear from the dream world."

Stepping from the desk, she pushed her remaining meal to Whisper Lark. "I insist you finish this. You're eating for three, and I won't have you going hungry just to attend me." She passed into her bedroom. "Consider it an order from your princess."

"As you wish," she said, scooping up an orange and digging her fangs in to suck out the juice. She watched her go, eyes bright in the dim light. "Fair winds on your nightly journey, Princess. Be advised that the Moonflower clan will insist on you eating well when you return. I will find this mysterious pony, if they can be found."

Stepping into her bedroom, Luna shut the door and inhaled with her wings held in. The aura of her spectral mane and tail faded, almost transforming back into strands of blue hair, and then billowed out as she exhaled. Her wings drove stars about the chamber, and into them she rose, gliding through the walls as the material world fell away.

In truth, her body remained where it was with knees locked, but her spirit fared forth among the silver trees of dreams.

After a quick survey to ensure that no serious nightmares or monsters had taken root, she weaved in and out through the glittering void, trying to find some hint or clue of what had passed through her.

And this time, much to her surprise, she actually found one.

It was subtle, but to her the trail was unmistakable. Gnarled and tangled branches grew in places, places she’d never seen them before. Luna had seen every kind of damage that the delicate substrate of the soul could sustain, or at least so she'd thought, because she had never seen fear and pain twist the wires without a nightmare present like that before.

Lowering her horn, she sniffed and felt with her magic. The damage purpled the core, just a bit, and a few paces away more damage shone through. Down she went, horn testing, sniffing for a faint odor of burned cinnamon and stranger things her mind couldn't interpret, following it all the way back to the root, as though something had plummeted down with great force, banging all the while.

Every tree of every living, dreaming thing on Gaia sprouted from the pale reflection of her moon, and she hovered before that mass. It was without pockmarks, an unblemished disk of white in the primordial ocean of darkness that extended in all directions.

Her mother had warned her, in an age long since turned to dust, to be wary of that boundary. The tabula rasa from which all things sprung could be swum by the experienced dreamrider, but strange and alien worlds awaited, ones that might be far from the light of Harmony and more dangerous than anything she could imagine.

Whoever it was had already crossed, multiple times, and the thin thread of purple rot leading down through the moon from the Equestrian tree was the proof.

Luna could not allow any of her subjects to brave that darkness alone, let alone risk further damage to the trees. She'd spent too long trapped in her own hatred and let down too many of them already. After all the work she'd done to prune the worst of the threats that faced dreamers in her world, it could get along without her for a time while she searched for the lost dream. By the time she returned, Whisper Lark ought to have some information for her.

Taking another deep breath, Luna dove into the numbing sea of possibility, raced through the light of the moon's soul, and vanished from thought and time with hardly a ripple.

To speak of the space between worlds requires words that have not and never shall be invented. Luna held her identity as tightly as she could while she followed the faint trail of some other's violent passage. Her astral body had gone, stripped away by the formless void that undergirded all creation, all worlds, but Luna was no casual dreamer.

Even so, the passage left her weak and shaking when she came out the other side suddenly and without warning. It was closer than she had imagined, a world close enough to almost touch through the timeless gap. As a wisp she hovered, unseeing, until she could build up her dream self again.

When she could see, she almost wished to go back on the spot.

From the nearly black surface of the new moon, dry and thorny branches of tangled darkness sprouted into a sky of dim stars. So many of the jewels she witnessed were dull and lifeless, or else cracked and riddled with nightmares. Everywhere she looked, the hellish landscape persisted. Only the gentle, pearl-like dreams of the youth and some resilient adults still sparkled, clutched among the weeds.

It wasn't unlike what she had first experienced delving into dreams for the first time as a young filly many millennia ago. Only a few beings could walk dreams, and they had all battled with the thorns without success until she took it as her task. She had cultivated her midnight garden night after night, transforming it over centuries into a shining place of peace and rest, just as her sister had forged warring tribes into a nation governed by kindness.

Here was a world that had never known or had lost a princess of the night of its own, and her heart ached for them.

Still, she couldn't afford to get absorbed in gardening. A lost soul had fallen here, somehow, and she followed the trail of its passage. It was harder here, considering how much damage the dream world already bore, but she was patient, starting from the roots and lowering her horn to feel the faint threads of something coming back and forth through the abyss with increasing violence. It took her out onto a winding path with millions of souls gleaming in sleep. Some were shattered and empty shells, their light gone out, and she shuddered at the sight—a terrible fate she would wish on no one—but she couldn't find the lost soul there anymore than she had in her world.

Hovering there, she frowned to herself. If they weren't asleep in her world when she left, and they weren't asleep in this world when she arrived, and all she could catch was a faint flicker when they did, it could only mean one thing.

They never really slept at all.

Shuddering from horn to tail, her search turned rather more desperate. Someone who never slept could never fully recover. It didn't make sense, though. Certainly, a dreamer could occasionally pass through the veil to briefly touch other worlds, but to disappear entirely on the other side meant they had something to root themselves here.

"A body?" she whispered to herself in a vast echo. "Two dreamers?"

Without one of her own, and without the dreamers lingering, she couldn't do a thing to help them. For a time she floated there, considering the problem. Obviously, if she could find the pony on her side, there might be something she could do, but Whisper Lark could find them better than she. Without access to both, though, any solution would be incomplete, if not impossible.

It was a body she needed, a way in. She hadn't done it in many centuries, but there was a trick she could employ with a suitable dreaming soul.

Searching among the dreams nearest, gliding through fruits great and dark as they dangled above and below, she paused by a few, only to find herself drawn to one that shone faintly in the dark. She had noticed it earlier, along with a few others, as it glowed much more brightly in the dream realm than most of the rest, but now it was like a beacon beckoning her near.

Approaching the jewel, she found not a dream, but the glimmering motes of deep meditation. There was something of the moon in its jewel-like depths, something that called to her, and she smiled and dove right in. It was perfect for her needs.

Maybe she didn't have a body here, but she could borrow one.

Princess Luna's eyes opened to a darkened room, the woody scent of incense in her nose. Carefully, she shifted her body just so, becoming accustomed to its strange contours. Clothing draped a form of smooth skin, recently shaved, and she was relieved to find it possessed four limbs and lungs. She could have wound up some hideous monstrosity, but the number of eyes and standard limbs were familiar. It lacked wings and a horn, but she could live without for a time.

It was the proximity, she wagered. Being from a realm close to hers suggested similar attributes.

Standing, she found it awkward to rest on all fours. The forelimbs ended in fingers like those possessed by minotaurs, so she carefully balanced upright. Every motion sent long hair, necklaces, and bracelets swaying. Further examination confirmed the initial impression that she had come to occupy a female of the species, though from the size of the breasts she feared she might be pregnant. That would be embarrassing.

Balancing on two legs took some doing, but she had the grace to manage, and searched about. Fat candles rested in glass, and curtains had been pulled over windows. The layout was familiar enough to the new style of Equestrian homes that she found a tiny bathroom without much trouble, and fumbled with the light switch until a dim, shaded bulb revealed her borrowed face.

A primate woman gazed back at Luna in the silvered surface of a mirror, her bare skin, long hair, and eyes all different shades of dark brown. She wore some homespun garb with numerous bangles and beaded necklaces. Placing her hands on either side of the sink, Luna met her reflection's eyes and smiled.

"I apologize for this intrusion, Miss. I assure you, it is only temporary. There is somepony in your world who is under my care, and I require assistance from a local to find them. If this imposition is too great to bear, please let me know at once. Rest assured, though, for I never forget my debts, and while I am not entirely sure how I could repay you at the present time, I am certain we can work something out."

Her reflection twitched. With some degree of shock, the image realized she could move, though when she accidentally knocked the soap to the messy, tiled floor, it simply reappeared when no one was looking. "What the… who the…" She tried to reach through the mirror only to find it just as impermeable. "Oh my gods. I'm being horsed!"

Luna couldn't help but giggle. "Horsed? What an interesting choice of words."

"It means to be ridden by a god." She gasped for air, gripping the sink on her end. "Oh my gods. Oh my gods. I actually did it."

“Ah. This was a desired result, then?”

The reflection put her head in her hands and pushed back her wavy hair, catching her breath. “I mean, not this exactly, but something like this. I’ve been hoping and praying and meditating for any glimpse of something, and here you are!” She lifted one of her many necklaces, which depicted phases of the moons cycling about the amulet. “I felt you as you came in, like a breath entering my lungs and spreading throughout my body. The moon was the most powerful image in my mind at the time. Do I have the honor of addressing Selene? I’ve… I’ve called out to you several times over the years.”

“Selene?” Luna picked up the amulet on her end, examining it. “I was called that by some distant people a long, long time ago. Such a curious thought. Why did you seek me—or someone with my name—out?”

Her mouth worked for a moment, but she cleared her throat and stood upright. “Well, to learn from you, of course! All my life I’ve pursued... mysteries and magic, but I’ve always felt like it was just out of reach. I meditate just about every night, searching for someone to guide me. You’re the first goddess I’ve had the honor of addressing, but I've always been drawn to the moon. I know that's almost cliche for a witch, but I've spent my whole life gazing up at it.”

“Have you no gods of your own to speak to?” Luna asked, frowning to the side. “I suppose that explains the state of your dream world.” She shook her head and met the other mare’s eyes. “What name do you go by? I would like to know who my companion is for the night.”

She straightened. “Luna Cabrera. I am a witch and a psychic.”

Princess Luna covered her mouth. “Really? That’s—well, I’m flattered. Luna, as it happens, is the name I go by in this era. Perhaps that’s part of why we were so drawn together, what with your meditating on my aspect and carrying my name as you were. Well, Luna the Witch, I would be more than happy to share what knowledge I can with you in return for the temporary usage of your physical body."

Luna the Witch seemed almost beside herself with ecstasy, kissing the amulet. "I would be honored. I… I understand you're looking for someone? Is that what you need me for?"

"Yes, one of my subjects." Princess Luna nodded. "As one of their… well, goddess shall suffice for a term familiar to you. As one of their goddesses, I am responsible for them. I believe they reside near you, but I was unable to determine their exact location. Dreams that are proximate in acquaintances are linked, but it's a little hard to determine more precisely than to say I believe them to be within the same general location."

"Somewhere in Philadelphia?" The reflection frowned thoughtfully. "Do you have a name, anything?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Not yet, at least. I have friends seeking further knowledge where I came from." She mused aloud, "Philadelphia? That's a very familiar name. It could narrow down the search on my end."

The reflection regarded Princess Luna with deep interest bordering on reverence. In other words, the way ponies normally looked at her. "You're not what I was expecting, but I shouldn't try to let my preconceptions blind me from a moment of personal gnosis."

"That's the spirit, young witch. Trust me—my memories stretch back thousands of years, and even I still have much to learn. Much about where you live is a mystery to me, but I am confident we can navigate it together." Luna placed a hand over her heart. "Do you have any idea of how I might find one suffering from severe discordant disturbances? I believe they could be a youth, which has always been a particular concern of mine."

"Mani, the moon god of the Norse, was said to adopt stray children who had nowhere else to go. I wonder if you inspired that as well." She shook her head. "Sorry. My brain feels cottony, so I was thinking out loud. Can you clarify what you mean by discordant?"

"Unsound in body, mind, or soul. Someone who may manifest random or mysterious magical ailments. In particular, I believe this person is suffering from a lack of an ability to dream."

The reflection pursed her lips. "That sounds like mental or physical illness. If I had to guess, then, I would say the city's psychiatric hospitals, or, well, its homeless population. I sometimes volunteer to work with at-risk youths, the sort who are in and out of unstable homes. I can also put feelers out to other witches and psychics in the city. If someone has seen a patient with that problem, we could probably find them that way."

Luna couldn't help but smile at her host. "Your concern for children is another point in your favor, young witch. I look forward to speaking to you in better times. I could have much to share."

The reflection blushed, just as a knock came at the bathroom door.

"Luna?" a young woman's voice called. "Are you okay? I can hear you talking to yourself."

"I'm fine, Moira!" the reflection called, to no answer. "Oh. She can't hear me."

"Only I can, and only then in a reflection." Luna offered her an apologetic look. "Who is this?"

"Moira, my roommate, also a witch. She's a good person, just not very serious about the craft."

The pounding came again. "You left your candles and incense on while you were meditating. I blew them out this time, but if you start a fire again, I swear to the goddess I'm going to be so freaking mad."

Nodding, Luna turned to the door. "I'll handle this."

"What?" The reflection blinked at her and tried to follow as she stepped out.

Moira was a petite example of her species with thick, curly red hair pulled back with a cord. She dressed in a much less airy style than Luna, with a shirt depicting some manner of musical group and a pair of black, canvas pants. "Finally. You could have said something." She stepped back as she made eye contact. "Whoa… you look…"

Bowing her head regally, Luna addressed her as she would a foreign dignitary. "My humble apologies, Moira the Witch. I was conversing with your roommate, whose body I am making use of for the time being while I embark upon important business in your world. You may address me as Selene, to avoid confusion with your friend. Should you be able to assist me, I would be happy to offer the same deal I made with Luna the Witch."

"What are you doing?" Luna's reflection squeaked from the edge of an unusually large and flat television. "She's going to think I've gone insane!"

Moira's eyebrows rose up and up. Settling her hands on her hips, she eyed Luna up and down. "When did you get your grubby hands on some psilocybin, and why didn't you share any with me? You know I always make a point to spread my stash."

"Ah, you believe me to be partaking of a psychogenic compound." Luna nodded. "I see. My host has expressed some worry that you will regard me as some manner of delusion." She examined her hands thoughtfully, the five nails painted dark blue and fitted with rings. "I'm afraid the typical means I might use to prove my identity are unavailable. I can scarcely feel the breath of Harmony, and so my flashier forms of magic are rather lacking."

Her reflection paced back and forth in the black screen, unseen by Moira, and she pulled at her hair. "Tell her I'm horsed, please!"

Nodding to the screen, she looked down at Moira. "Luna the Witch wishes me to inform you that I am 'horsing' her—a term I find entirely too amusing. She thinks this will soothe your concerns for her mental well-being."

If anything, Moira's skepticism only grew as she turned to look at the television suspiciously and then back. "Okay, 'Selene.' I guess I can at least buy that Luna is in a trance state and thinks she's channeling a goddess. You're doing a better job than those dorks at the bonfire meetings, at least."

"It will have to do." She nodded. "Moira, would you happen to know how to find someone in your world without knowing their name or other identifying features? Primarily, I need to find someone suffering from a lack of dreams."

“Not… really? I mean, I got a mean googling strangers game, but you’re going to need a little bit more to go on.” She shrugged. “I guess I can look online.”

“I have faith that means something to a local. Thank you, I appreciate your assistance.” Luna went to the door. “As for us, we shall be visiting the local psychiatric hospitals and underprivileged youth. Fair winds.”

“Wait!” her reflection begged from a hutch by the door, voice faint with the thinness of it. “Don’t forget my phone! And a scarf; it’s cold out there.”

“Ah,” she said, pausing at the handle. “Fair point. I’m not exactly in my own divine form at the moment. What is a phone, however?”

“It’s…” Her reflection stretched for how to answer. “It’s a handheld device that, uh, communicates with unseen frequencies of light, allowing it to communicate with other, similar devices.”

“Ah! A portable radio. How charming.”

Moira watched her half of the exchange with more than a little concern, though it turned to amusement as she watched her have to refer back to her reflection for directions to where she’d left the phone. Along the way, she picked out a shawl and draped it about her neck, then grabbed her purse. Within was a compact with a mirror they could use to keep in touch.

“How does this work?” Luna asked, turning the little bar of plastic wrapped in rubber. She found the button and turned it on, then let her reflection walk her through the code. “My! I know a few unicorns who would die for the chance to take this apart. They’ve been working on ideas like this for some time.”

“Please, don’t, Selene,” her reflection begged. “It was already a big expense, and I don’t bring in a lot of money.”

“Have no fear, I would not deprive you of your possessions without great need.”

Moira, leaning in the hallway, cleared her throat. “I dunno what game you’re playing, Luna—sorry, ‘Selene’—and I thought it was pretty hilarious, but now I’m worried you’re going to get your ass killed or imprisoned out there. I peeked around online and left some comments on some occult websites asking about kids that might not be able to dream, but since I found nothing, and you don't have a vehicle yet, why don’t I drive you around?”

“I would be most grateful to ride in your chariot, Moira,” Luna said, peeking up from her investigation of the device. “I’d imagine you must hire somepony to haul it? You don’t seem quite sturdy enough to pull one yourself; no offense intended.”

Moira stared at her for a moment. “Okay.”

She couldn’t seem to formulate a more complicated response than that, grabbing a coat with a faux fur-lined collar and some gloves before heading out. They lived in a small, one-story house on the outskirts of a major city. With over a million souls, it was only a fraction the size of Manehattan, but somehow it felt meaner. Even though she couldn’t freely exercise her magic—at least, not to the same degree, and she might have to experiment to be sure—nothing had dulled her mystical senses. Something about the city jangled her nerves, and she suspected that the condition of the dream world was reflected in its material conditions as well.

"Oh, you meant an automobile!" Luna proclaimed as they came to a beat-up pickup truck parked on the side of the road. She ran her hand along the dusty hood. "After we parted from our parents, my sister and I lived in a castle together, and I constructed many mechanisms and traps to bedevil her. I've had a fondness for clever little machines since."

"That doesn't sound like Selene's mythological history," Moira said dubiously as she opened the driver's side door and slid in.

"I cannot account for how stories of me may have been garbled over the ages. Would you believe that, after a mere thousand-year absence, my own subjects believed I would devour them alive? And that from the very beings I ruled over." Climbing into the passenger side, Luna gazed out at the apes—or, she supposed, they simply used the generic "people" for all thinking beings—walking up and down the sidewalks. "I confess I'm a little surprised that you have legends of me at all."

Placing her phone in a holder, Moira side-eyed her. "So, did you or did you not put a shepherd named Endymion to sleep so you could marry him and have tons of kids in his dreams together?"

Luna scoffed, drawing herself up. "Young lady, control yourself! That is hardly an appropriate way to address a goddess." She huffed. "Endymion was a fine stallion, but I have no husband, and even if I did I would be loathe to share intimate details of my liaisons with you nor anyone! Such secrets best die at the bedchamber doors."

Snorting and laughing, Moira pulled out onto the road. "Okay, wow. Luna never shuts up about her sex life, so maybe you're the real deal. Where to first, then, mighty goddess?"

"I'm never going to live this down." Sighing, Luna's reflection in the rearview mirror tapped for attention. "Lady Selene? The hospitals would be closed to visitors at the moment, and they wouldn't discuss patients, but if you look on my phone's map I have a few saved locations for when I do my volunteering runs."

It took her a moment to find what she was talking about, but Luna had always been quick to master new things—excepting perhaps modern social mores, which in her opinion could stand a cold shower. Nopony seemed to appreciate the simmering passion of courtly romance anymore.

Replacing her phone with Luna's, Moira took off into the late afternoon light. "How long do you plan on keeping this up, by the way? Most medium sessions would be done by now."

"Well, I'm in no grave hurry to return home, and, as I said, my retainers need time to search there. I'm not entirely sure how you measure time here, nor how it varies between our separate frames of reference, but I imagine I would check back in after a few days and find out."

Luna's reflection gasped from the mirror. "That long? But I have a shop to run! If I miss my rent, I'm out on the street, Lady Selene."

"Oh. Luna seems concerned. Fear not, I plan to spend much of that span in the dream world. I'll call on young Luna frequently, but with respect to her needs."

"Uh huh," Moira said, pulling up to another curb several blocks from their house. "Well, you do you." She leaned over and frowned at the location, a disused lot behind several other buildings with a shell of a building and dense graffiti. "How will you know if the person you are looking for is there?"

"I will sense them. That, at least, has not been stripped from me." She leaned out the window.

"What… is all this?" Luna asked in quietly dawning horror as she took in the filthy canvas and boxes clustered there. Shopping carts filled with stuffed trash bags were strung with tarps to form temporary shelters, and the sight of a young girl hugging a doll and watching strangers pass by with dead eyes and a sign wrenched her heart. "Where are their homes?"

"They're… homeless?" Moira scratched at her jaw. "That's what homelessness is, Selene."

"I didn't think it was so literal. It's just temporary, though, right? Their houses were destroyed, but they—" She broke off. "I sense your and Luna's grim silence enough to know that isn't the case. How… how… barbaric! Who is responsible for this state of affairs?"

"Government? Landlords?" Moira shook her head. "Fuck, I don't know. I just work at a bookstore."

Opening the door, Luna marched out and came to crouch in front of the girl. Her sudden approach frightened her enough to skitter back, but something in her eyes arrested her motion as they met.

"Have you nowhere to go, child?"

"Selene!" Moira hissed, grabbing her arm and glancing around. "Leave her alone!"

When Luna's eyes met Moira's, she froze in inexplicable terror at the sight of them and released her arm without having to be told.

The girl rubbed her runny nose and sniffed. "My, uhm, sometimes I stay at my aunt's place, but she doesn't like having me around."

"Doesn't like-!" Luna repressed a strangled outcry of indignation, smoothing her nerves to continue to address her in a gentle tone. "Where is she? I'll set her straight."

Neither Moira's muttered complaints, Luna's reflected uncertainty, nor the girl's fearful silence could deter her from having the girl lead her by the hand to a small apartment a block down. It was a poorly kept building with crumbling infrastructure that would have been a cause for shame and action on any street of Equestria, but it was a sight better than the street with winter's chill advancing.

The mare who came to the door was overweight and overworked. Inside the apartment, four children already sat around a table, writing out some sort of assignment.

"Sobrina!" The mare reached forward, grabbing her hand from Luna's and glaring at her.

She hissed in a language that went by too quickly to follow at first, but Luna found she recognized it with some surprise. Most of the locals appeared to speak what sounded like a dialect of modern Equestrian, but this tongue was spoken by griffons of their southern lands, and there wasn't a living language on Gaia that Luna didn't speak.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked in the same tongue. "I didn't catch that."

The woman glared defiantly. "I said, don't you dare touch my niece ever again, you piece of shit." She made to close the door. "If I ever catch you around here again, there won't be enough for the cops left to dig up."

Luna's body wasn't as strong as the one she was accustomed to, but as white hot anger surged in her she caught the door and thrust it back, slamming it hard enough to bury the knob in the wall and shove the woman back. "How dare I? How dare you!"

The woman made to respond, a vociferous swear bubbling to her lips, but it died in her throat as fear drained the color from her face.

Luna advanced, putting all of her host's height to work in looming. "Your niece told me about how she wasn't allowed to stay here."

"That's-that's not true! She can stay here, it's just that I have four kids to take care of, and she's supposed to stay with her good for nothing father—"

"Are you not her kin?" Luna roared, her voice projected. "Do you not see the scratches and bite marks adorning her innocent flesh? If another is to care for her and has neglected his issue, then they will suffer, but you have more than enough room here to house a child such as her!"

She leaned in, the mare quailing back. "I will check on her. If I find that she has been mistreated in any way, mark me, you shall not experience one dream that is not haunted by the darkest nightmares. Inform her father as well. This outrage ends today."

She didn't wait for the mare's whimpering acknowledgement, marching out to the street with a stunned Moira in tow. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked out at the city.

"Uh… Selene?" Moira asked with the sort of caution a mare might approach a ravenous lioness with. "You okay?"

"There are so many. How can you stand it?"

"I… I guess you just get numb to it." Moira rested a hand on her arm. "You can't… you can't help everyone, Luna."

"This Luna cannot, at least as she is. I can." Luna laid a hand on hers. "I didn't find who I was looking for, but… stars help me if I didn't find something that has shaken me."

They weren't Equestrians. By rights, their own alicorns—their own gods—should have cared for them.

But they didn't have any.

Her first priority was still her missing subject, as their fate was spiraling out of control, but Luna never could limit herself to just the ponies under her direct care.

"Can I continue to count on you, Moira, in the tasks ahead? I fear they may be more numerous and compounded than I initially imagined."

"Yeah." Something seemed to have been jarred loose in Moira, a light of hope that had long lain dead returning to her eyes. "I… I'm still not sure you aren't crazy, but… okay, Lady Selene. I've got your back."

Chapter 7 - A Song of Hope

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Owen trudged his way towards school, missing the crunch of fresh snow under his hooves. There were streets in Philadelphia that were well-kept and pretty, but those all lay far from where he lived, and instead of snow all he got was a cold, meager drizzle that didn't even have the grace to pause for rainbows every now and then. Such a pitiful display would have evoked a full apology from the Fillydelphia Weather Department—possibly, given how abysmal it was, a song and dance number.

After he'd been forced awake, he'd wondered if his father was going to keep him home from school, but—whether it was because he knew CPS would look poorly on it, or he just wanted Owen out of his hair for a while—he had been all but thrown from his room and told to get to school. He'd heard the sounds of furniture moving as he left, and grabbed his boots to put on down the hall rather than linger in the apartment for a second longer than he had to.

All along the walk to school, he reminded himself that his mother was curled up around him, and that the first chance he got he'd be waking up under her wing.

Brightening his day considerably, Jaime and Aisha fell into step alongside him. With their dark clothing and gothic accessories like matching bracelets and ankh pendants, it was easy to see why people like Tim thought them crazy. Despite being born nine months apart, they acted more like weird twins than any of the actual twins who went to their school.

To Owen, it just made them awesome. In his mind, they were just the human equivalent of the vesper ponies back at Light Breeze's school—spooky and fun all rolled into one.

"Hey there, Ohz," Jaime said with a smile. "We're looking forward to the fruits of your labor today."

It helped that, whenever Jaime smiled at him like that, it didn't matter how cold he felt inside, he just couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah. Plan still stands."

"You okay?" Aisha asked. Her hair was in dozens of braids that morning, each with a series of beads. "You're looking particularly, uhm, wrung dry."

"I…" He glanced towards the sidewalk, hopping over the cracks. "I wasn't supposed to come back. I tried to stay away as long as I could, forever, but Silver Dust didn't let me. My parents definitely weren't having any of that." He sighed. "Frank is on a rampage. He didn't hit me, but I kinda told him he wasn't my dad, and he's flipping out."

They went quiet for a bit, exchanging looks as they often did in their silent way. Owen liked to imagine they were telepathic, though real telepaths likely wouldn't have doubted his story.

"Yes," Owen added with a bite, "I know he is physically my father—"

Jaime laid his hand on his arm with a light touch, and that stilled him as though he'd snapped his jaw shut. "No, we know."

Aisha nodded vigorously. "No one who does what he does deserves to be called a dad."

They glanced at one another, quoting in unison. "'You need a license to buy a dog, or drive a car. Hell, you need a license to catch a fish! But they'll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.'"

From anyone else, it would have irritated him, but he could never be entirely unhappy with them. He giggled helplessly. "What was that from? Another movie that was decades old before I was born?"

"Yup. 80s Keanu Reeves movie."

"He was more of a side character."

"Bullshit, he stole the show."

Their bickering formed the backdrop to his death march, and it helped put aside his anxiety—never completely, though. He kept his mind on the last few days, needing to refresh himself. There would be no napping in the periods before physical education, not if he wanted to get it all down. It made it stronger, kept it fresher, as a side benefit.

Besides, it also served to remind him that his mother would be waiting for him. He had promised to be strong for her, and so he would be. He was a pegasus where it counted, and pegasi didn't back down from what mattered.

"And why don't you feel you can participate in PE today?" Mr. Henry asked in his deep voice. A big, heavyset Black man with knuckles swollen from having been repeatedly broken, Mr. Henry James had been a heavyweight contender long before Owen was born. Though he'd gone to seed, he could still punch like a cobra, and he demonstrated it gladly to whomever asked.

Owen fixed him with a hollow gaze. "The man people call my father is abusive. I've reported it to the school, but the CPS people just gave him a warning. I feel dead inside, and I would like to spend the rest of the period with my friends today, please."

Mr. Henry absorbed that for a second before nodding. "Okay. You're excused for today." He leaned in and nodded towards one of the back doors. "And, Owen, you ever need to work some stress out, you can always use the punching bags. They don't hit back as hard, and you don't go to prison for whaling on them, neither. Just putting that out there."

"Thank you, Sir. I will keep that in mind." Owen might actually have taken him up on that if his hands didn't always hurt. Then again, maybe it would remind him of hooves. He could always find out later, given that he seemed to be stuck in the human world.

He didn't know how Jaime, Aisha, or Tim had gotten out of their respective classes for the period, but he figured they had just lied. Just because he didn't allow himself to didn't mean others felt the need to be true to the Elements of Harmony.

Admittedly, one of those—Laughter—he failed at woefully, but nopony was perfect.

They gathered in a spare classroom by the gym. There was no guarantee that they would go unnoticed, but as long as they lowered the blinds on the door, left off the lights, and kept their volume down, it wasn't likely anyone would find them.

"Shame this isn't an anime," Tim said, bringing out fruit snacks, water, and chips for everyone. "We could go to the roof, or just wait until clubs after school. I guess in real life, Japanese high schools keep those roofs locked up pretty hard, though."

"We could join a club at this school, but it would probably be crowded." Owen rolled his eyes and accepted the food. He'd been deprived breakfast and had no money for the lunch they were skipping anyway. "Besides, if this were an anime, I'd have been visited by an alicorn already or at least developed my pegasus magic to the point of being able to fly."

From their own backpacks, Jaime and Aisha produced old-fashioned metal lunch boxes. "We asked Dad to fix us lunch today, plus a little extra for you," Jaime said, depositing yogurt, a hard-boiled egg divided, and strawberries. Aisha added on baby carrots, sliced cucumbers, and a box of chocolate milk.

Beholding the offerings made Owen spring a leak, and, so as not to try his voice while tears streamed down his cheeks, he opened up his backpack and stacked journals on the empty desk beside them.

As the stacks grew, their eyes widened, until three stacks of handwritten journals at least six journals high each stood between them. He gently pushed one to each person before ravenously digging into the offered food.

"Where did you find the time to write all of these since Saturday?" Jaime asked, pulling the top one off the stack and flipping through to see if every page had something written on them. They did.

"I ate, slept, wrote, and drew," Owen said after pausing to swallow. "Including in class. It's fine, not like I wasn't going to class in the other world, where the instructors were a lot better paid and motivated even without their teaching cutie marks. You'll see when you read." He nodded to the notebooks. "To you all, it's been almost seven days. To me, it's been almost a month."

Tim, as usual, barely bit back a sneer at the idea, but to his credit he said nothing other than to open the journal. Jaime and Aisha were already familiar with the early ones, so he'd been given the first set. Owen had full confidence that Aisha and Jaime would somehow be able to read and share both of theirs in the same time it took Tim to finish his one stack.

So it went for the next fifty-five minutes, with the three of them reading and absorbing his sketches aside from a few requests for clarification on smudged sections or concepts not fully explained. Owen had held nothing back, pouring out his longing for anyone who cracked one of them open to see.

Aside from accounting where, when, and what Light Breeze had been up to on any given day, he devoted whole sections to explaining different concepts as they came up. A lesson on building familiarity with the wind became a detailed explanation of flight mechanics, with pegasus magic demonstrated through expressive sketches showing the field of influence a flying pony generated on the surrounding environment. Owen was particularly proud of a series of sketches demonstrating his mother gliding through the water faster than any fish.

"You're strict vegetarians, but your, uh, horse mom is a fisher?" Tim asked with a doubting frown.

"I explain that on the next page. Keep reading," Owen urged him. "Fish are considered more acceptable as a source of animal protein than others, and there are a lot of carnivores living alongside ponies as friends or pets."

The flat model of the world got some doubt from Aisha, especially when he demonstrated the moon off-kilter one evening, rotated from its usual rising place to almost due northeast. Evidently, Celestia had been required to handle it that day for some reason, according to the radio, due to a surprise absence on Luna's part. That wasn't supposed to be an issue, but apparently she was out of practice with it.

Even with their occasional skepticism, though, one thing became abundantly clear as they read over one another's shoulders and discussed their findings quietly.

"It's just…" Tim flipped through the others' stacks as the bell buzzed for lunch. "It's just so much." He set down the last one with shaking hands, leaving it open on a two-page illustration of Light Breeze's family out watching fireworks.

Aisha licked her dry lips and drained the water bottle she had been given. "I'm sold." She laid hers open to a picture of her closest friends, Soda Pop, Silver Dust, and Jake, with her peripheral friends peeking over or around. A chibi-fied version of Silver Dust with her cheeks puffed and eyes squeezed shut in concentration as her horn lit with little stars and hearts had been scribbled into a corner.

"I was already sold, but you knew that." Jaime flashed Owen a smile that made his stomach flutter.

They both bore their eyes into Tim, whose shoulders hunched. "My rabbi is going to have words with me if he finds out." He sighed. "I want to read the other journals, but… this is just so much. I feel like I just got hit with the mother of all YouTube conspiracy videos. Existence is a lie, ponies are the only truth. Harmony will set you free."

Owen broke into a smile at that. It wasn't much, but if Tim found the evidence compelling, then it wasn't just the sibs and him being weird.

"I just gotta ask," Aisha said, taking his arms since they all knew by then he didn't like having his hands held. "Owen, are you trans? Do you… want us to start referring to you as Light Breeze?"

Owen went as still as one of the ice sculptures outside Light Breeze's school, eyes opening wide like a deer in headlights. "What?"

Jaime bobbed his head and leaned in on his other side to take a shoulder. "What she said. You think of her family as your real family. You miss your wings and your hooves. You love being Light Breeze and, let's face it, you've always been pretty girly. I'm sure there's been a lot of hints we didn't notice, but it's a lot of little stuff, like mannerisms and the way you like your hair."

"There's that scene a couple weeks ago when you and Silver Dust went shopping for skirts and dresses, despite barely wearing any clothing on normal days, and you talk a lot about how cute you looked." Aisha nodded towards a blue journal. "You spend whole pages being jealous about her mane and tail while also following her like a lovesick puppy. You always take the time to compliment me on my outfits here, so it's not just a 'there' thing."

Tim folded his arms, leaning back. "How do we know that's not just because he's been spending all his time there getting away from his dad? Maybe he's turning into Light Breeze because he's letting her take over or whatever."

"No!" Owen squeaked. "No, not that. To Tim, I mean." He shuddered, but didn't pull out of their grip. "I… I like being Light Breeze, but… I know it's not that. I shouldn't say that, either, because I am Light Breeze. When you see me, you see her. Everything I did in both worlds was Owen and Light Breeze. You're my friends as much as any of those ponies. I just feel like I'm happier when I'm expressing the things that make me Light Breeze, and… I think that's always been true, even before I could remember the dreams."

Turning his head to stare out the window at the grey, rainy day, Owen chewed over their questions as they tumbled around in his head like rocks, smashing his delicate sense of self. "I've never even considered the question. Frank… I never could get away with anything. There was a time when I had these books about unicorns I found in that Brickbats Books place, the Firebringer Trilogy, and I read them over and over. There was a mare, Tek, who was so cool and confident. There was another filly, later, who I think was going to turn into a pegasus with her griffon boyfriend, and—" His face turned bright red as he cut off his rambling. "He threw them out, and I cried for days. The author mentioned she used to run around on all fours like a unicorn when she was little, and I did the same damned thing when I was smaller and my arms weren't so stupidly short."

He gripped Jaime and Aisha like lifelines. "I guess… I…" His voice broke up, and he couldn't continue, staring at the tiles below.

"Girl," Aisha said firmly. "Look at me, Light Breeze."

Her head jerked up, eyes watering. "Aisha?" she croaked.

Gripping her head with both hands, she looked into her eyes. Her own had been lined with heavy eye shadow that Light Breeze couldn't help admiring. "You look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't a girl if you aren't. So help me, spirits, I am going to crack this egg wide open. You're not going to suffer in silence, not as my friend."

Light Breeze quaked, but she couldn't look away. No matter how she twisted and turned in her head, Aisha was right. Owen hated nothing—not his human family, not his awful neighborhood and school, and not even his hands—more than being Owen. She hated being a boy, and even just being human was too much to bear.

For a moment, she held back, wondering if perhaps she was being too hasty, that maybe there was something in Owen’s life she wanted to keep, but, aside from his friends, there was nothing. His world had never been open to him, his family had never been there for him, and, even if he’d been allowed to be a girl, he—she—would never know what it was like to fly without her, to run on all fours like her, to gaze up at a world of magic and wonder and know that, as dangerous as it could sometimes be, it would never fail to welcome her. Never had she felt comfortable in her skin outside the confines of her own dreams.

Owen breathed her last breath out.

"Breathe," Jaime urged at her back.

Light Breeze did, practicing those deep breaths her mother had taught her long ago as she drew in air that, somehow, felt fresher. She broke eye contact, her hands coming up to hug Aisha helplessly. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I do want you to call me Light Breeze.”

"It's okay." She rubbed her back. "It's okay, Light. See? We got you."

"We can't really go around calling her Light Breeze, can we?" Tim asked, and her estimation of him went up a notch for the implicit acceptance, even if he did seem uncomfortable around the display of such raw emotion. "I mean, obviously we aren't going to use the other name anymore. Uh…" He dug out his phone. "Misty… Libby…"

"Lilith," Jaime and Aisha chimed together."

"Fuck, no." Light Breeze barked a laugh through her tears. "I'm not a vesper! Besides, I like my real name." She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Pulling back, she brushed her hair behind her ears. "I guess I am trapped here for a while, so… anything you guys can do to help, I'll be grateful for. I'm Light Breeze, and I'm done pretending."

"Well." Tim looked up. "Why not just Light? Your friends on the other side use it. It's a super rare name, but who gives a shit? It means… I can tell it means everything to you, Light Breeze."

She seized him in a sudden hug, eliciting a wide-eyed squeak. "Thank you. I… I underestimated you, Tim."

He flushed, poking at his phone in lieu of a response.

Feeling lighter already, as though she could kickflip off a wall as easily in her human shape as she could in her pegasus one, she finished off the rest of the borrowed food with more appetite than she had in days on the human side. The thought of food made her wilt, though. "I'm going to have to still be Owen at the apartment, though. Maybe I could badger May into it, get some tacit acceptance, but Frank would smother me with a fire blanket."

"You come to our place after school and on weekends," Aisha said. "The teachers here are not supposed to reveal that you're identifying differently to your parents, either."

She winced and shook her head. "It would get out. There are lots of kids who would bully me. No one touches me right now because I stay out of everypony's radar. It would get back to Frank eventually, too, I know it would. Heck, he knows the police officer on campus."

Jaime growled, touching his chin. "That asshole arrested Mom and Dad at a racial injustice protest last year."

"Sorry, then." Aisha winced. "It's going to suck to have to go by your deadname in school to everyone who isn’t us, but at least you'll have us. Like our dad says, keep your heart high."

They moved to comfort her as usual, only to find her up and bustling, grabbing the trash for disposal. More than that, she was singing. Her voice hadn't yet entered the phase where it cracked and scratched like Jaime's in a way that, on him, was boyishly adorable, so it lifted clear and high.

"I may not know where I'm going, what I'm doing, and the whole grey world keeps pressing in every side, but all I wanna be is the pony that I am inside. Doesn't matter what clouds come my way, a soaring heart can summit them any day, oh, oh, oh-woah-oh!"

She spun back gracefully on a heel. "I'm sick of being cooped up inside. Let's go while we still have lunch time left."

Tim gaped like one of her mother's catches, and tears ran down Jaime's and Aisha's faces. "Light, you…"

"What?" She deflated, just a tad, but it hardly clouded her sunlight.

"This feels like… an overreaction?" Tim suggested, hand feeling at the air. "Like we should be worried you're having a… uh…" He googled quickly. "Manic episode."

Coming up, she planted her hands on the table. "No, guys… this is me. You've read the journals, you've seen how I described myself. Yes, I'm still sad that I have to be stuck here. Yes, I'm still pissed off that I'm not going to be going by my real name everywhere. But." She raised a finger. "But it doesn't matter. My name is Light Breeze, and there are people who believe in and care about me, and I'm not going to agonize over where I belong. If I can be a happy pony on one side, I can try to bring a little light here with me."

For once, they were the ones swept up by her currents, and she loved watching them hang on her words. "I'm not saying that, well, that this world isn't going to wear me down." She deflated another degree. "I'm just saying… I'm free. Even a little bit, I can stop pretending to be someone I don't like being. Every night, and sometimes at other times, I get to go back home and charge up, then I can hold my heart high here, with you guys helping."

Aisha's lip quivered. "I was just gonna say that I've never seen you smile like that before. You're a pretty good singer, too."

"Yeah." Jaime laughed. "You wanna join our band? I promise, you're going to be the best member, because we both suck."

"Sure! Like I said, I'm stuck here. Might as well have some fun when I'm not konking myself out."

"As for these…" Aisha scooped the journals into her own bag. "As promised, we'll talk to our witchy relatives and try to figure out a way to help you with magic. If there's magic on one side, there's gotta be magic here, too, right?"

"I dunno, but I almost feel it now," Light Breeze said brightly, leading the way out.

Manic wasn't the correct term. It was more like accepting herself as Light Breeze had burned away the brush, freeing her from the choking thorns of pretending to be a boy. They still lingered around her, but, if she was the same filly by night, she didn't see why she should have to stop being her by day.

Would that such realizations could slip the bonds of flesh and send her home full time. She would have to take what she could get.

With the others, she left to enjoy the limited time that remained before the next bell under the sky, no matter how cloudy.

It had been only a week since Halloween had come and gone, but already Frank Hall could feel the days growing shorter. Once upon a time, he might have taken his boys trick-or-treating himself, but those days were long gone. As an EMT, nights like Halloween were some of the busiest of the year, dwarfed only by the number of calls and reports his friends from the local precinct would get. Frank wasn’t bitter; it was a small price to pay for the chance to save lives, even if he’d originally gotten into the work for entirely different reasons.

He had plenty of time to reflect on his life, where it was going, how it had gotten to that point in the car. Traffic in downtown Philadelphia could be a real bitch, especially at that time of day. As usual, thoughts of Owen dominated his mind: the night before, the fight, and the horrible things he’d said, and not just about himself or Frank, since he'd even gone so far as to drag Remi into it.

Of course, Frank had known the boy was an odd duck, and so did May, but that didn’t mean they loved the boy any less. It just meant they had to be extra careful about what things he was exposed to and what things he wasn’t. He didn't consider it abnormal to be attracted to other men—for the most part—and maybe if Owen understood that, he could tone down his own judgemental attitude. The counter cultural movements had already gotten to him, though, filling his mind with promises of equality and harmony and all sorts of other nonsense. One day, Owen would learn the same way Frank had learned that utopian ideals don’t work when the people around you were fundamentally bad.

An EMT van pulled out in front of him at the next intersection, and Frank slowed. He wondered if there was anyone he knew inside. He’d been doing the job for as long as Adam had been alive; it was how he'd gotten started down the path in the first place, actually. It was a decision that had cost him his family—or, at least, his relationship with his father, which was practically the same thing.

Before May had announced that she was pregnant, Frank was just another cog in his father’s business, another contract worker making ends meet with whatever paid jobs they could take on. The work wasn’t unrewarding, but it was hardly stable and didn’t pay nearly enough. His father’s face the day he tendered his resignation had been burned into his mind.

“You’re gonna quit on me? Just like that? And with a baby on the way?” His eyes had been as wide as saucers, his mouth stuck in a disgusted O-shape. “What the hell are you gonna do instead?”

“I enrolled in an EMT program, Sir. I’m gonna be a paramedic.” Frank had responded, already flinching whenever his father moved a muscle. Owen didn’t know what real physical abuse looked like.

“I knew some guys like that in the war,” Frank’s father had said, sneering. Frank couldn’t tell if it was genuine contempt or just some half-baked attempt to lash out in any way he could. In the end, it didn’t really matter. “Didn’t figure you for a pansy. You know you’re just a nurse on wheels, right?”

Owen never got to meet his grandfather, or that part of his family, now Frank found himself wishing he had, then he might understand just how good his life was, how tolerant his father could be compared to the rest of the world.

The parking lot for The Prancing Pony tavern was usually empty this early in the day, a dusty old lot that hadn’t even been paved over, filled with gnarled weeds and old bits of faded trash. Frank’s job kept odd hours, and while his kids seemed content with the internet or text messaging, there was an element to face-to-face conversations that Frank found himself unable to do without, especially in moments like these. As for showing up in the middle of the day, well—life as an EMT forced him to keep odd hours. It’s something he’d always caught shit for, but what could he do about that? A man provides.

The place was owned by Gregory Carmichael, some old ‘Nam vet with a fondness for Tolkien and a geek streak a mile wide, but he was a good man, and well liked, at least by most of Frank’s friends. Truth be told, he’d only spoken to the wizened man once or twice, maybe once upon a time he’d done the bulk of the work himself, but these days he’d left things to the younger generations while he remained sequestered away in his upstairs loft.

Frank wasn’t surprised to find the place mostly empty when he stepped inside. There was some old maid in the corner sipping at what looked like a rum and coke, her face looking more tanned than her old black leather jacket, and he figured her a relic of the 70s or 80s. He couldn’t really place the style, but that seemed right. Frank made his way over to the bar and had a seat. The woman working at the counter wasn’t much older than him, but he wasn’t a big fan of the hunt even before he’d gotten married. The whole practice of flirting and reading signals was just something he’d always found exhausting.

“I’ll have a sprite,” Frank said, drawing a nod from the woman. They’d seen each other before. “And some fish and chips.”

The drink came quickly. The food took a bit longer, and in the meantime Frank was left to his own thoughts. He couldn’t get rid of the image of Owen’s face, the look of pure outrage and disgust. Something about it had felt so familiar; if only he could place it.

By the time the fish arrived, he had. It was the same rage he’d felt whenever confronting his own father. The same offense, hoarded little bit little over the years so as to form one grievous slight, for which he might begrudge his father everything wrong in his life. If only Owen knew that, of all of Frank’s children, they had the most in common.

“Thought I might find you here.” A man said from behind, his voice rich like he’d practiced speaking in front of a mirror, with a kind of jazzy vibe one might expect to find in east Baltimore. Frank craned his neck to get a good look at him.

Lieutenant Kamdon was a Black man nearing middle age, a bit on the short side, but with the toned body of someone who still took his training pretty seriously. Most of the other cops his age hadn’t. Owen would probably be scandalized to learn that Jonah was one of his closest friends, but he was—in Frank’s estimation—"one of the good ones," with no claims to any of that victim mindset nonsense. Frank harbored no misconceptions about who exactly had filled his son’s head with the measure of nonsense that it held. Jaime and Aisha’s parents were not subtle, and he remembered their arrests during the Hell Year.

“Michael told me you called him at three in the morning, earlier,” Jonah continued, taking a seat beside him and pausing to shut off his radio. “Why the hell would you do something like that? You get into a tiff with your boyfriend or something?” He took one look at Frank’s glass and his lip curled. “If you’re light on cash, I could buy you a real drink.”

Frank gestured with his hand as if to shield his, by now, flat soda. “I’ve got another shift in a few hours.” He took another sip with the same motion from earlier. “Can’t have too much alcohol in my system.”

“...Right.” Jonah frowned, as though he'd never seen Frank refuse a drink before.

“And no, the wife and I are fine. It’s worse than that.” Frank set the glass down. “It’s worse than that; way worse.”

“Worse than an ornery partner? Now I know you’re overreacting.” He gestured the woman over and ordered a beer, some local microbrew—Frank couldn’t taste bitter, and, as a consequence, that rendered a significant amount of beers into tasteless swill. “All right Hero, spill.”

Frank would be lying if he said he didn’t get a little rush of endorphins whenever one of the cops mockingly called him "hero" or "lifesaver." What he did mattered to them—they admired it, and that’s something he couldn’t even get at home.

“It’s Owen again. He uhm…” Frank trailed off. “Caught him hanging out with Aisha and Jaime Gaines again, and they filled his head with all sorts of BS.” Frank hesitated before asking for the favor that had been on his mind from the moment he’d laid eyes on Jonah.

“Listen, maybe you could come over and explain some things to him; set the record straight.”

Jonah snorted and took a large gulp from his glass before rolling his eyes. “Listen, man, I didn’t show up so I can be your 'one Black friend.'” He shook his head dismissively. “Just because I know where my bread gets buttered doesn’t mean I’m like you and the other guys. I’m not.”

Frank positively deflated at that, and immediately started reassessing his approach in his mind.

Christ… is this where the little shit gets it? Did he learn to be a mouse from me? But that was impossible, he’d never been anything less than properly imposing and assertive in his son’s presence. Hierarchy was easy: either you’re in charge or you’re not, and everyone knows where they stand. It’s with equals that things get messy.

“All right.” Frank scratched his head. “The kid and I got into a fight at dinner, and… some of the shit he said to me… Christ.”

Jonah had already finished his beer and was ordering a refill by the time he pressed Frank on. “Yeah? Like what?”

Frank polished off the last of his afternoon meal, lips pursed. “He told me I’m not his real father; threw my own words in my face. He talked about…” he pushed his basket of scraps away and rubbed his palms off with a fresh napkin. “I might have been a little rough with him earlier this week.” He explained. “Nothing serious, nothing like… my old man would have done to me.”

Jonah stared at him for a long time. “Yeah, I heard about that from some of the other guys. Heard you had child services dragged to your doorstep. Word of warning: don’t let Bryan catch you for the next week or two. He was talking about beating your ass senseless. You know how he gets when kids are involved.”

Frank nearly choked on his sprite. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t. The color of your soul is between you and God, Frank, but I will say this.” He took another sip from his beer. “The world isn’t the one we grew up in. There are things our fathers did you just can’t do anymore, and it’s changing faster and faster with each passing year.”

Frank nodded, staring with exhaustion at an old photograph of a World War 1 fighter plane with a team huddled around it with bright, optimistic smiles. “The internet.” He responded, matter-of-factly.

Jonah laughed, hiding his face behind his glass. “Don’t get on your ‘Globalism’ soap box, right now, man. I ain’t got the patience.” He set the glass down again and pushed it aside. “But, look: my point is, you do all this work to keep your kids fed, to see them succeed, right?”

“Sure I do,” Frank said, defiant. “It’s all I’ve ever done.”

“My point, then, is what good is that gonna do you if every one of the little brats hates you?” He gestured emphatically at Frank’s chest. “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world, and forfeit his son? You answer me that, Doctor.”

Frank wasn’t a doctor, but he ignored the casual ribbing. “Jonah, I’m surprised.” He finished off his third Sprite. “I didn’t know you went to church.”

“I don’t.” Jonah shrugged. “Don’t believe in that sort of thing—never have, never will. Wisdom doesn’t need a holy book to lend it authority and credibility; it’s self-evident.” He stole a leftover from Frank’s abandoned basket. “You can be a bit slow sometimes, so I’ll interpet. If you alienate those kids forever, you’re going to be one very lonely, old ass man. Maybe they can make you a nurse and put you in pediatrics or somethin’. I hear the coma patients don’t talk back, but that might be more your speed.”

Frank glared, his face turning red. “Now that’s going too far, Jonah. I’ll tolerate bullshit, but only to a point.”

Jonah didn’t seem too concerned, but he motioned to mollify him all the same. “All right… all right. Then why don’t you let me make things right?” He leaned in. “See, some of the other guys and I? We bought a cabin up north, brand new, ‘neomodern’ or some shit. Absolutely no one for miles.”

Frank stared at him, bewildered. “On your salaries? How the fuck did you pull that off?”

“One word.” Jonah smirked like the cat who’d caught the canary. “Timeshare.”

Frank felt a little rush of vertigo, and immediately waved the woman working the counter over.

“Woah there, I’m not asking you to buy in or whatever.” Jonah gestured more urgently this time. “I’m just trying to do you a favor. It’s Veteran’s Day weekend, and it’s my turn to use the cabin, but, I figure, since we’re such good friends, I can pawn that over to you, and you get to take the kids on an unforgettable vacation. Not the wife, though, just you and the boys.”

Frank looked up, meeting his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Jonah smiled. “But I’ve always liked the old adage of 'one good turn deserves another.' You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I do.” Frank frowned. “But I’ve got shifts, I can’t just, like, ditch the city and camp out in the woods for half a week.”

“Oh come on man, it’s not that long, and I’m sure you’ve got some friends who could cover for you, you’re not that unlikeable. Unless you’re the damned Unibomber whenever we’re not around. Though, if Netflix doesn't lie, even he had buddies.”

Frank considered that for a moment. “I guess Carlos owes me for a few covered shifts, and Denis has another mouth to feed soon.”

Jonah finished off his last beer and smiled. “That’s the spirit, Frank!”

Chapter 8 - A Stone Turned

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By the time Light Breeze came down the hall that led to the apartment, she'd been buoyed by her time with her friends and self-acceptance, but she had been told before school to return directly after and wasn't prepared to see what the price of disobedience might be.

It was time to hold her heart high over the currents that were to come.

Half-expecting—and hoping—the locks to have been changed, she was surprised to find her keys still worked, and stepped into the living room to find Frank and her brothers clustered about the couch in their coats. A couple tackle boxes sat on the coffee table. May, on her laptop in the easy chair, hadn't dressed to go anywhere, but she seemed tired.

"Go on back to your room." Frank nodded to the hall. "Get some clothes. We need to hit the road if we're going to get where we're going before it's too dark."

Light Breeze paused with a hand on the open front door, in case she needed to flee in a hurry. "Where are we going?"

"A cabin out in the woods. My buddy, Jonah, lent it out to us." Frank patted the top of the nearest tackle box. "We're going to take the Veterans Day weekend off. Just a few days with us guys."

He could hardly have said anything to make Light Breeze less eager to go. She pushed the door shut as it became awkward to stand there, but came no closer. "I'm not going hunting ever again, and you can't make me. Might as well leave me home."

"No hunting, but we will be taking a break from the city and all this daily grind nonsense." He stepped over from the couch, reaching out. "No email, no computers, and, most importantly..." He paused, reaching into the pocket of her coat and pulling out Jaime's phone. "No cellphones."

Light Breeze growled, pulling back and snatching at her coat. "How did you know?"

"Adam thought you were holding out on us, and he checked the router and saw another device." He returned to the couch. "He's going to put parental controls on your laptop before I give it back, and only if you're on your best behavior. That shit has been poisoning your brain. We're going to rein this family back in." He gave her a look as anger twisted her features. "Oh, knock that off. I got along without cellphones and laptops for most of my youth. When you're an adult, you can make those sorts of decisions. My old man never even gave me that much, so you should be grateful."

With anger making her bunch up, she looked to the door and seriously considered making a break for it, but the only place she could see herself going was the Gaines' house, and it wouldn't be safe. She looked to the window, to the cold outside air under grey skies, and knew she didn't have what it took to survive out there, least of all in her human form.

The anger drained from her as she failed to explode at him, to shout that she didn't want to go and he couldn't make her, leaving her empty and tired.

"Fine, whatever." She stalked by them to her room, crying bitter tears. Over and over again she reminded herself under her breath that she was going flying as soon as she woke up as she opened up an old, brown suitcase that had been Adam's and stuffed it with clothes and books.

Or she would have, except all of the interesting fantasy books she'd gotten from the used bookstore were gone from her shelves.

"This world is a nightmare, and all nightmares pass," she whispered. "I'll see my mom and dad again soon."

For a bit, after snapping the case shut, she stared out at the fire escape, but any thoughts of fleeing were crushed as Frank's shadow loomed in the frame of light from the hall. He sounded chipper, as if he could make it fun just by injecting it into his voice. "Hey, kiddo. Let's go. We wanna get there before it gets too dark."

Gritting her teeth, Light Breeze grabbed her bag and followed him out.

They stopped at a little roadside diner along the way with red-cushioned seats and white-and-black tiled floors. When Light Breeze had asked if they had vegetarian options for the burgers, she'd received such an odd look that she'd just sighed and ordered the salad with a side of fruit.

Some diners provided impressive fruit platters and inspired salads, but what arrived before her was limp lettuce with store bought dressing and a few chunks of sliced melon and honeydew alongside three grapes.

Adam laughed when he saw it, lifting his big burger and taking a bite. After he chewed, he nodded towards Light Breeze's side of the table. "I've been watching you suffer through rabbit food for years. Sure I can't tempt you to take a nice, big bite of this beautiful, perfectly cooked burger?"

"No, thank you," she said, hoping politeness would dissuade him.

Whether it was some hidden frustration in her voice unwittingly revealed or his longstanding habit of picking on her rearing its ugly head, though, Adam only seemed more annoyed. "You've always been a holier-than-thou little brat, Owen. Why do you gotta be like this? C'mon, no wonder you're so small when all you eat are beans, salad, and, uh." He turned to Jeremiah. "What was that weird orange shit yesterday, Remi?"

Looking like he wished he could be anywhere else, Jeremiah dipped his fries in sauce. "Squash."

"Right, squash. Gross."

Vegetarianism was one of those things that set him off, but, even if she wanted to, she doubted she could even make the attempt. It was already hard to think of eating cows, given that they could talk back where she came from and still far too cute in the her current world. "I don't want to eat meat, Adam. When did I ever preach to the rest of you about what you should or shouldn't eat?"

"I see you judging us all the time," Adam said, pausing to take a big bite and swallow it down with Diet Sprite. "Just like last night. Having your weird little freak out session and calling Dad a 'stallion.' I dunno why you had to rope Remi into it, but that was pretty shitty." He glowered at Light Breeze, and a shiver went down her spine. "You're getting weirder and freakier all the time."

"Knock it off," Frank said gruffly. "This is a time to bond with family, Adam. We're trying to get past that shit."

"Sure, Dad." Adam returned to savoring his burger, and Light Breeze could only force herself to eat instead of snapping in his face. "Really looking forward to it."

When the car rumbled to a stop in the porch lights of the cabin, the sky had already gone dark, and the forest stood as a vast and still sea of shadowed trees. Light Breeze hopped out onto the gravel and stretched, looking up at the building. It was large and very modern, with clean lines, an open floor plan, and lots of glass.

"Here we are," Frank said, stepping out of the passenger seat. His boots crunched in the dirt as he went to open the trunk and hand out bags. "Remember, guys, we don't own this place or anything here, so treat it respectfully, or it'll be your ass on the hook paying for it."

He opened the door with a key and lit up the interior, but Light Breeze had little interest in exploring. "Where do we sleep?" she asked, glancing to a floating staircase. If it weren't for the company, she might have appreciated the place's almost pegasus-like aesthetic. Jeremiah and Adam went at once to turn the big TV on.

"Guys, hold on," Frank called, to little avail. He shook his head and gestured for her to follow him up the stairs to a half floor. "You get the room at the end," he said, opening the door at the back of the little mezzanine. Within was a twin-sized bed, a closet, and a desk, with photos of the local environment on every wall that didn't feature a large window covering the corner.

"It's nice," she admitted grudgingly, and made to enter only to find Frank's hand holding her back. His touch made her skin crawl.

"There's no NyQuil here," he said, meeting her eyes. "You're not going to be able to just hide in here and sleep. Tomorrow, we're going fishing, and I'll teach you how to clean and cook them." He let go. "You've been trying to learn how to cook, right? Well I'll show you a thing or two. And don't belly ache about your vegetarianism kick—fish are barely even animals."

Light Breeze bit her cheek, staring back. "I'm fine with fish."

"Great. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, then."

Her relief at his absence was palpable, and she barely even bothered to undress after shutting the door and threw herself into bed. Desperately, she counted pegasi flying with her eyes squeezed shut.

Perhaps it hadn't been as horrifyingly violent as she thought it would be, but the sooner she was back under her mother's wing, the better.

Had Princess Luna—Selene, for the time being—been in complete control of the might of her fully realized alicorn potential, the city of Philadelphia would have trembled to its foundations for the sins she had borne witness to. Such cruelty and deprivation had been unknown in Equestria since before her banishment, and even then it had never reached the scale she'd seen on display.

"If a public safety officer in Equestria had behaved in such a manner to the meanest, lowest denizen of my realm, I would have pinned them in the lower atmosphere for a week." Selene poked at her salad. She had little appetite after the last couple days, but Luna the Witch needed the sustenance. "Would that magic were not so dreadfully stubborn here, and my connection not so tenuous. No offense, Luna." She nodded to the open compact by her dish. "You're doing very well for an honorary horse."

Her reflection had her arms folded on the bar table and head down, but she held up a thumb in acknowledgement.

Accepting that humans like her host were omnivorous, as she had to with many Equestrian citizens, did not make Moira's plate of Joe's Extra Hot Habanero Demon Bone Wings look any more appetizing. The neon lights off the bar's signs glowed in her short, frizzy mane like a halo. "Honestly, the biggest proof so far that you're the real deal is that he didn't arrest a Black woman for starting shit with a white man." She took a swig of beer that actually smelled rather nice, but Selene didn't want to test her vessel's capacity. Luna was as fragile as the average unicorn.

"Were it not for that nice couple with the broken van bringing food to the camp, I might have begun to wonder if the entire species were discordant—no offense intended. It was bracing to assist them."

"I suppose that's the other thing." Moira slathered dressing over a wing and crunched down. "I know for a fact Luna couldn't fix an engine to save her life. She needs tech support just to operate a washing machine. If that wasn't evidence of divine providence, I don't know what was."

"Hey!" Her reflection lifted her head. "That washer was busted, and she knows it."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Selene said. "It's unbecoming. As for the engine, it was hardly a spell. It was a more sophisticated internal combustion engine than I am accustomed to, but any machine can be understood by breaking it down into its constituent parts. All they needed was a few connectors reseated, and the corrosion on their battery suggests they will need it replaced."

Moira washed her food down and pointed at her with the bottle. "You keep talking about 'spells' and how your magic is out of reach, and that's what's been on my mind since this whole mystic quest started. I sank most of my life until this point looking for any hint of magic, to the point where I frankly didn't believe in it anymore, but you waltz in with Luna's body and tell us that, where you're from, people move the sky so often it's routine. Why? What is wrong with us that we don't get to see any of that? Why doesn't magic exist here in this dead fucking universe?"

Automatically, Selene opened her mouth to admonish her for her language, but she stopped herself. Treating Moira like a child just then would do her no good, and her clear distress demanded a compassionate answer. "Of course magic exists here." Selene forced down some more of the bland lettuce and watery tomatoes, drinking water and wiping her mouth before continuing. Not that she wasn't known for an exhausted lack of etiquette at times herself—particularly mornings. "Magic exists everywhere. It's the fundamental basis of reality, lower than the simmering of the tiniest elementary particle, and that is true even in the furthest, most alien universe. Even here, you understand why." She tapped the compact. "What was it that we discussed before I left to scour the dreamscape last night, Luna, about how you conceive of magic?"

She lifted her head again, rubbing her eyes. "Uh… that magic is how the material world accesses the divine? Magic is how matter negotiates with spirit."

"Yes!" To Moira, Selene smiled. "If you know what Luna knows, then you understand that magic isn't some physical force. A pony isn't a battery sending potential from high to low to create work. Trust me—I know magic and machines both." She gestured, splaying her hand. "Where I am from, every living being is so closely connected to the divine that our cells contain special structures that receive the breath of Harmony and transform it into powerful magic that directly affects the material world." She leaned in. "Magic is how mortals engage in communication with higher principles. It's a negotiation between our souls and the wider cosmos. I've been able to summon up strength even apart from my body by drawing on my own connection. Your world is simply devoid of magic in the same way that a couple who aren't communicating are devoid of understanding."

"So, what gives, then?" Moira's voice was tinged with a hint of desperation. "I've been crying out my whole life. Why won't the cosmos communicate back? I'd given up believing and started using the things I learned to turn parlor tricks and lie to people's faces." She slapped the table and covered her face with a hand. "I'm in an abusive relationship with the gods-damned universe!"

Others at the bar turned to glare at them. Selene cast them a hot look back to mind their own business and took Moira's hand in hers. She didn't like fingers, and her hands ached and had a habit of seizing up, but it was worth it to massage some comfort into her and meet her eyes. Moira's shone with unshed tears. "I wish I could give you a clear answer, Moira, but I'm still puzzling it out. The state of your dream world is part of it, but not sufficient in and of itself. It's choked and tangled, strangling your souls, but I believe that to be a symptom rather than a direct cause. I've been here for almost twenty-four hours and have seen neither hide nor hair of another prince or princess, and I fear you may have been abandoned. I won't abandon you, though, my young friends. This, I swear."

The reflection turned her head, as if to avert her gaze from Moira struggling not to break down in broken sobs right there. "We have legends of magic. Stories going back millennia. Other witches believe that we've… maybe fallen from grace, somehow, like magic used to be plentiful, but we've moved away from it. Some believe that it will come back. I always have."

"What can you or anyone do, Selene?" Moira asked, choked up. "I can see you in Luna's eyes, but you're barely present."

"I'm far from powerless, and so are you." Selene squeezed her hand and pulled hers back before the negative feedback could kick her out of Luna the Witch's body. It already felt like an ill-fitting skin after a whole day, and the reflection's mental exhaustion was symptomatic of that. "I'm going to teach you both a kind of magic that I am absolutely certain you can master, even if the rest of the world is numb, because any dreaming soul can. Dreamriding will let you help me when the time comes to start gardening the astral world, just as my beloved vespers do back home. It may be a symptom, but, if we can start fixing the dreamscape, it will help not only with the character of people's souls but give you all some room to breathe as well. I can't say it will restore you to the level of connection my world has with the divine, but I am confident it will help."

The hope that spread on Moira's face ached to behold. Before she could say anything else, a buzzing in Luna's purse caught her attention, and she frowned. "There's that noise again. I've heard it a few times, but didn't catch it in time before." She opened it up to peek and found the phone buzzing amid her wallet and packaged herbs.

"Oh, shit!" Luna's reflection jerked up. "That's my phone! Answer it, please; it could be a client. I sent out emails to let them know I was out of town for a couple days, but one might not have gotten the message."

"You shouldn't lie like that," Luna chided, picking it up. "If your clients can't understand that you're busy having a spiritual experience, maybe you should seek others. Who is 'George?' I presume not a griffon." There was a green button with arrows, and she swiped it up.

"Agh! No! Not him! Don't answer!" She groaned. "He's a white boy who thinks he's hot shit with Latinas because he lived in Mexico City for a couple years."

Too late. "Hola, chica!" He then proceeded to proposition her in more poorly accented Spanish, which Selene had learned was the local name. "Finally! I've been begging and praying for you to answer my calls, sugar. I knew you couldn't resist coming back to me, my lovely chocolate goddess."

Selene's face hardened the more he went on. She cut him off before he could get further into exactly what he wanted to do to Luna's body. "Excuse me, you pathetic, insolent colt, but if you compare Luna to another food item in my presence, I will separate you from the male parts you are no doubt unjustly proud of and cast them into the river. I cannot abide such a sickening and childish display of prurient interest. If you wish to court this woman again, I suggest you contemplate a less puerile course!"

A few other women at the bar clapped, which Selene didn't know what to make of, but it apparently worked as a threat because George stammered a breathless response, called her a female dog, and disconnected at once.

Her reflection couldn't help but snicker. "I will never get tired of you yelling at people, Lady Selene, but I'm going to get an undeserved reputation at this rate. Could you check my messages, please? I want to make sure I didn't miss something important."

Letting Moira show her how to do that, she searched through missed calls, texts, and voicemails. Two phone numbers popped up most frequently. "It looks like you have quite a few missed calls from people named Gaines, both Aisha and Jaime. Are those clients?"

Her reflection frowned, moving in the seat to get a better look. "No, those are my cousins. It's not like them to blow me up like that. Could you put on one of the—right, that." She nodded as Selene played the most recent voicemail.

"C'mon, Luna!" a girl's voice said. "Answer the damned phone! We need your help. Stop ignoring us! We already tried July, June, and April, but the wyrd sisters are out for the week! Our friend, the one with the weird dreams we've been trying to talk to you about, is the real deal. If you can't help, at least tell us!"

Ice worked its way down Selene's borrowed spine. In an instant, her connection to fate lit up with a powerful tingling and wave of nausea, and her vision tunneled as the shock nearly sent her tumbling from Luna's body.

Of course it would be closer than she expected; the connections had been tight. Tartarus take her—they'd been right under her nose.

She gripped the table, breathing heavily, and met her reflection's eyes. "Where?"

Her reflection clutched her chest, shaking with the near separation. "I've got their house's location saved on my phone. It's right around the corner."

Grabbing her purse, she gestured Moira up. "With haste, disciples. Our quarry nears!" Moira barely had time to throw a few bills on the table before running out after her.

The parts of Philadelphia Selene had become familiar with never seemed to experience much beauty in winter. From what she'd gathered, a terrible curse known as "global climate change" gripped the planet and gravely harmed its natural cycles. Under the same gray overcast from the previous day, they marched up to a little house and rang the doorbell.

Though the neighborhood bore the weight of some general depression that pressed over Selene's magical senses, there was an air about the home that defied it and comforted her. Fresh pumpkins even lined the fence despite the distance from their version of Nightmare Night. Yet, despite the uncommon cheer, a thread of worry worked its way into her.

The missing pony wasn't there.

A middle aged gentleman with features similar to her host's opened the door and smiled widely. "Luna! How is my favorite niece?" He scooped her into a warm embrace. "You should have called! We've got some leftover creole crab stew Lacy whipped up. Even some vegetarian stuff." He glanced over her shoulder as he stepped back, his tone a little less energetic. "Oh, and you brought Moira."

"Sup, Gaines." Moira grinned from the walk up. "We've missed you at the meetings. Kids running you ragged?"

"Hst, Moira." Selene prodded her shoulder. "Manners."

Luna's uncle looked between them with raised brows before shrugging and inviting them inside. A woman sang in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables, and there was a memory of magic in those words. Selene hoped that, one day, she could help people like her find the real power within them.

"I must apologize for the abruptness of my visit," she said, politely removing Luna's boots by the door. "Aisha and Jaime requested my presence."

"They're probably in the basement," her reflection said faintly from a large family photo on the wall. It held Luna herself as a younger woman, with her father and mother—Joachim Cabrera and Lobelia Gaines, from their conversations. "Second door on the right."

"I believe they're waiting for me in the basement," she added.

Understanding dawned on his face. "Is this about Owen? Sorry—apparently, she prefers a different name now."

"Light," the mare in the kitchen called. "Poor kid. Odd name, but who am I to judge? She's been through enough."

It would never cease to be strange to Luna that they referred to their children as goats. "Yes, I believe so. They aren't here, are they?"

"No. We were hoping, but she didn't come home with the kids today."

"May I?" She gestured to the door in question and pulled Moira along as they nodded, and shut the door behind her. They gave her weird looks, but she would have to correct their misapprehension another time.

Three children were deep in conversation when she arrived, listening to music playing from a stereo as they conspired in the dim room.

Of them, two reminded her instantly of the vespers from home, though she knew they weren't the same. Luna carried a bit of that nature herself, and she suspected that it was some mirrored quality. Even certain humans were drawn to the dark, it seemed. The third was a smaller, pale-skinned boy who seemed a little sad to her, like a candle flame threatening to gutter out. It was as though he'd only recently found some tenuous hope to keep his spirit from burning out.

As they looked up, their eyes widened. "Luna! Jesus Christ," the boy said. "You could have answered your phone. Hi, Moira."

"Have you come to help with our friend?" the girl asked, hopping to her feet.

Double-checking to be sure the door remained shut, she turned to them. "I have indeed, children, but I am not your cousin. My name is coincidentally Luna, yes, but I am not from your world. There, I am known as the Princess of the Night, the Warden Moon, and I am riding your cousin Luna for the express purpose of helping your friend. As a goddess of my people, I am bound to aid her, and I would be most grateful for your assistance in finding her."

Selene fully anticipated the same doubt she'd received since arriving and braced to further elaborate, but the siblings merely exchanged a glance before nodding. "Princess Luna of Equestria, huh?" The boy rose to his feet and bowed. "Well, we weren't expecting anything like this, but we'll take it."

"I guess there goes all my remaining skepticism." The girl huffed. "I'm glad someone knows what the hell is going on, though. Sorry, was that inappropriate around a princess? Light Breeze didn't seem to know the proper etiquette. Should I bow?" She settled for extending a hand.

"What?" Moira hissed, looking between the kids. "You little twerps knew what was going on this whole time?" She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, uttering a prayer.

Luna clapped her hands together. "What a joy to be comprehended at last!" She swept forward, skirts swaying, and struck her hand against hers as if it had been an extended hoof. "Are you… Jaime, young mare?"

She stared at her hand for a moment. "Uh—I'm Aisha, he's Jaime." She thumbed at the darker-skinned youth.

"The Princess Luna?" Tim's eyes widened as he stared up at her, and he held his bag in white-knuckled hands. "It can't be. How are you even here?"

Crouching down before him with her hands on her knees—she was becoming almost proud of how well she could use Luna's form after a day of practice—Selene smiled and met his eyes. "That I am, and I will explain. What is your name, child?"

"T-Tim." He couldn't look away, his eyes losing themselves in hers. She could almost see his little fire grow. It reminded her of Moira in a way, of someone who had been burned by the world. Their souls were blackened like dry wood with cynicism, and to coax out a few silver shoots of hope in a child was Selene's greatest delight. "I don't understand. I just… it seemed so… so unreal. You and your sister ruling for thousands of years and creating such a perfect world. Something like that can't be real."

It was like Moira, in a way. The people of their world had been conditioned not to believe in wonder.

"Approaching perfection." Taking his hands in hers, squeezing them until they relaxed, she kept her eyes on his. "One thousand and change is the span my sister has guided our people in. Once, they had been as violent and ignorant as almost anything I've seen here, but even hardened hearts can soften with the right touch. Look deep into my eyes, child, and set your doubts aside."

For all that a seed of bitter disappointment with the world had sprouted in Tim's heart—the seed that would one day turn his dreams as dim as any of those she saw in the astral world—he was younger than Moira, and he could more readily believe with the right prompting. Selene drew on her true self, letting it rise to the surface, and tears sprang into his eyes until they blurred and could look no longer. The fire of hope, stoked, burned away his doubts.

"Princess, I…" he wept. "I don't know what to say. I'm… oh, God in heaven, I feel so…"

She rose and hugged his head to her waist as he threw his arms around her. The two other kids gaped at Tim as though they'd never seen him before. Moira didn't look at them, but Selene caught a green streak of jealousy in her eyes.

Addressing the siblings, she touched the girl's shoulder. "This lost pony—Light Breeze, I believe you said—is she well? Where is she?"

"I'm afraid she had to go home. Can we slow down? I feel lost, and this whole—" she flapped her hands at the room "—scenario is making my head spin."

"You and me both, kid." Moira folded her arms and flopped onto a patched couch by a much more familiar kind of television.

"Of course." Selene touched her free hand to her heart and inclined her head. "Forgive me. Moira and I had forgotten decorum in our eagerness." She ignored Moira's aggrieved noises. "I can give a full explanation in time, but for Light Breeze's sake I will be brief, and we can fill the gaps in one another's understanding of events at the earliest opportunity. I sensed ill portents in my nightly patrol of dreams, and detected a powerful nightmare without a dream present. I followed the signs, and they led me to your world. I looked in dreams close to the source and found your cousin meditating, and then entered her body to politely request assistance. After some—well, dare I say, fruitless searching—I belatedly received your call for aid and came at once. It was a foolish oversight on my part to neglect family, given that I could tell Luna had close connections to the afflicted."

"This is some straight modern fantasy right here," Aisha whispered, a little dazed. "Is Luna—sorry, I mean, our cousin Luna—okay?"

"Yes, of course. A little weary for bearing me for so long, but she should be all right. It would be wise to see to her after I leave tonight, and a few offerings would not be remiss for her trials."

Selene squeezed Tim about the shoulders as he calmed. "Feeling better?"

"Y-yes, Princess." He hiccuped and stepped back, wiping his red eyes with tissue Jaime provided him. He gazed up at her in reverent awe.

"I'm glad." She turned to take all of them in. "If you have been reassured of my good faith, please, where can I find Light Breeze? It's critical I reach her as soon as equinely possible. She's in terrible danger."

"Danger?" the siblings asked in unison, eyes widening.

"What's wrong, Princess Luna?" Tim asked.

Jaime clutched his sister's hand in fright. "Is something going to happen to her tonight? Oh, gods, I knew we shouldn't have let her go home…"

"Still your terror, young stallion," she said with a soft nicker, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "I did not mean to frighten you. I don't think the danger is imminent, but I won't know for sure until I find them. It's a little hard to explain, but this unnatural condition cannot endure. Souls were never meant to shuttle back and forth across the abyss of worlds nightly nor take two bodies, and, though it seems they've been stable for a long time, there are recent signs of serious instability and growing damage. That's to the substrate of dreams, and I dare not imagine what it's doing to her."

Aisha swallowed. "Well, we shouldn't wait around then, huh?"

Jaime grabbed his coat. "We can explain what we know on the way. It's not far." He skid to a halt, eyes wide. "Wait! The journals!"

"Pardon?" Selene asked.

"Light Breeze gave us like, a million journals of her time on the other side." He galloped back to his bed, stuffing notebooks into a backpack and hurrying to join. "It's how we know so much about Equestria." He frowned at the bed. "I'm missing some."

"I've got them!" Tim held up his bag.

"They may prove useful, then. Good thinking." Selene's borrowed heart thundered in her chest as Moira and she joined them upstairs, sparing a quick word to their parents in passing before racing out into the cold.

"So, uh… Princess?" Jaime stared up at her as he trotted along. Tim kept as close as decorum would allow, like a lost duckling. "It's kinda weird calling you Luna, you know, considering."

"Selene will do while on your world. It was one of my old names."

"Lady Selene to you squirts," Moira said, bringing up the rear. "Only I get to call her on a first name basis."

Selene didn't quite agree, but she had bigger issues. "Please, tell me what you know."

"Right, Lady Selene." Aisha kept up with her longer strides, leading the way down the cracked and broken street, with its row of depressed houses, most of which sat behind chain link fences. "We've known Light Breeze since forever, though until today she's always gone by Owen, and we thought she was a boy."

"Yeah," Jaime added, hopping over a sidewalk slab that had been shattered in two by a tree root. "She decided she was transgender. Do you have that in Equestria?"

"Not by that word, but I can guess. We normally correct their bodies with unicorn magic relatively young." Selene frowned. "The mismatch is worse than I thought. How did the issue manifest, to the best of your knowledge?"

"I mean, we don't really know, Princess?" Tim shook his head. "All her life, apparently. Every time they sleep, they switch places. Or, well, continue where they left off from last time. We thought she might be, uhm, discordant, but her journals were such powerful evidence."

"Yeah!" Aisha continued as they rounded the corner at the end of the lane onto a busy street with cars crowding the road and dingy stores under equally bleak apartments. "Back on Halloween, though, or Nightmare Night, we encouraged her to try remembering her dreams more, and the next morning she woke up thinking she was Light Breeze!"

Jaime nodded. "But they may really be the same, we kinda figured out?"

"She started wanting to be Light Breeze full time! I hope we didn't mess her up…"

Selene patted Aisha's head, something that would have reassured a foal. "Deep breaths, please. I tell you this truly: if they do as you say, nothing you did could have changed them. I can explain more once she is secure." They paused in front of one of the many bleak apartment buildings, and Selene frowned up at it as a tingle passed through her feet. Her subject had passed in and out of it many times.

Jaime held the door open. "Well, there is at least one other thing you should know before we get there, Lady Selene." He looked downcast and furious both as they moved into the tiny lobby, with a filthy manager’s office off to one side and a tiny elevator near the end. "Her parents on this side… they don't treat her right."

"I'm sorry?" she paused at the elevator, Moira pressing the button to call it.

"Yeah." Aisha shook her head, braided hair flying. "It's sick. Her dad doesn't like the way she talks and acts, so he hits her. Her mom doesn't do a thing."

"They're pretty terrible to everyone, Princess." Tim bunched his hands in his coat pockets. "I know they say anti-semitic things about me behind their backs, but they treat Light worse."

Selene's temper had been a thing of infamy long before resentment for her thankless tasks and sister's thoughtlessness had boiled over into the fury of a nightmare. Ponies still tended to run screaming when she lost it. It took all of the effort and training she had practiced since to not frighten the children as they stepped into the elevator and waited. Moira even put a hand on her arm, and she let that steady her just that once. Even so, she had the bit in her teeth as they approached the apartment door, and her knock thundered.

Tim and the siblings lurked a door down, looking at the two women. "They don't like us." Jaime shook his head. "Remember, you're here for Owen Hall!"

"I most certainly am not," Selene hissed back, but quieted as the door opened to reveal a shorter woman with blond hair tied back. She looked so wan and hollowed out that it took Selene a moment to perceive that she had given birth to the dreamer on Earth. Behind her, the apartment had a faded brick wall on one side and old paneling on the other, with a tiny, tiled kitchenette behind a counter. Furniture was scattered around, but, while it felt lived in, she would be hard pressed to say it held any love at all.

"What do you want?” She met Selene’s eyes and then Moira’s challengingly. “Are you Jehovah's Witnesses? We've already got a lord, thanks."

Selene’s unseen senses lit with dark fire. The room behind her had held her quarry until quite recently, and the stench of violence done to the innocent clung like soot to the surfaces of the house and the woman alike. Her enforced calm grew a crack. She smoothed down the dress Luna had worn that day—the lowest key one she owned, with stockings against the cold—and bared her teeth in a smile.

"Hello," Moira said in a cheerful tone. "No, we're not here from Kingdom Hall. We're from St. Peter's on Third and Pine? Your boy, Owen, was asking about spiritual guidance. I thought we'd come have a talk with him and his parents."

Selene shot her an absolutely scandalized look and flared her nostrils. Moira's hand tightened, silently begging her not to attack.

"Owen?” Her head shook, doubt instantaneous. “Bullshit, he hasn't gone to church ever since he started screaming his head off as a kid." Her eyes narrowed. "You're with child services, aren't you? Get the hell out, both of you. This is harassment."

She made to slam the door in their faces, but Selene caught it with a hand and stopped it effortlessly. Strength surged through her as she prepared to thrust her way inside and destroy everything within, but she paused as Moira hissed and tried to drag her arm back. She might as well have been fighting a steel piston, her shoes scrabbling on the thin carpet, but Selene held still regardless. "You're going to land your host’s ass in jail!" she whispered hotly.

The woman pounded on the door a couple times to no effect, even when she slammed her entire weight into it. "Hey! Let go, or I'm calling the police!"

After a moment's thought, Selene did, and took a second to breathe as the door slammed shut with a heavy rattle as the woman found the irresistible pressure suddenly gone. "Fine. Punishment can come later." She stalked off after Jaime and Aisha. "You and I are going to have a serious talk about proper decorum, young lady. Never falsely represent me as coming from another princess's auspices again. Your lack of honesty does us all a disservice."

Moira flinched back from her and nodded; she even seemed genuinely regretful, so Selene cooled off quickly. The children stared up in quiet awe, and she exhaled the heated energy from her body. "How are we going to find the kid now, Selene?" Moira asked, a little heavy. "Unless you can pull it from her mind or something."

"Not likely. Can you two reach your friend with your smartphones?" Selene asked the children in a relaxed tone.

They shook their heads, lifting their phones. "No, Lady Selene." Aisha tapped at the screen where a profile for Light Breeze#7065, with an image of a pegasus in flight, rested next to a gray, empty circle. "She's been offline all day, and she doesn't have service. What should we do? Maybe we should go back and try to, uh… I dunno, get it out of her."

"I could hardly torture it out of her even if I had a mind to. Mind-reading is presently outside my reach and can be a dicey operation even under ideal circumstances." Selene smiled and patted both of them on the heads. "Worry not. May I see the journals?"

They made their way down to the dirty lobby by way of the elevator, and Tim was the first to eagerly offer up his backpack there. Taking the journals, she rapidly flipped through the entries. "My, she's quite accomplished at sketch work." She absorbed them, gleaning key bits of information with great speed. Equestria was big enough to have more than one Light Breeze, possibly even more than one in Fillydelphia, but only one would have the same family and neighborhood. "Moira? Please take Luna under the shoulders. I don't want her to hit her head."

"Wait!" Tim grabbed her hand, eyes wide. "You aren't leaving already, are you, Princess?"

"Yes, but I will return, child. I swear it." Selene squeezed it, then passed the journals into his care. "You need not endure long without my aid."

"I don't get it." Jaime peered back up at her as Moira quickly moved in for support. "What are you going to do, then, Lady Selene?"

She smiled mysteriously. "Everypony has to sleep sometime."

With that, Luna's eyes rolled back in her head as the breath of Selene's spirit left her body.

The material world fell away around Selene, and the crumbling horror of Earth's dreamscape reasserted itself. As she lingered on the threshold of her mind, Selene whispered back to the flickering light that was Luna the Witch's soul. "I'm terribly sorry, but I must hurry. I fear what may happen to Light Breeze if I tarry longer. Will you be ready to receive me tomorrow?"

Luna's mind pulsed with an alabaster light, and she squeaked sleepily. "I'll do my best, Princess."

Selene caressed her once before lighting off back to the dark moon, the other face to Gaia's bright warden. She didn't fully understand the nature of the difference in time between the two realms, but the very last thing she could afford to be was late. Some quiver in her heart told her that time was running short for Light Breeze, and somepony had to catch her before she fell forever into darkness.

Chapter 9 - Clipped Wings

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The closest Light Breeze ever came to dreaming were the flickers that came while wide awake. Though perhaps not as imaginative as other fillies her age, her mind could still drift into the clouds and daydream.

That morning, as she roused before the dawn and pressed into her mother's teal coat, she shuddered at the memory of her last dream. She didn't dare try to sleep again, and prayed she wouldn't, but she had more pleasant things to focus on.

The most important day in the life of every young pegasus across Equestria and beyond, the first day of flying lessons, had come at last. Light Breeze had held it as her guiding star in the difficult days of being human. Every time things grew bad, she remembered that she would soon sleep and grow closer to soaring among the clouds.

Though she'd been gliding for years, and her mother had drilled her on the basics and made her exercise every day - and presumably she had flown as a baby when her magic ran wild - it was only as she approached her thirteenth year that her wings would be large enough and her magic strong enough to carry her into the sky.

Yet, as her hooves pressed into the cloud bed, and the pink flash that prefigured Celestia's raising of the sun peeked through her windows, a terrible vision forced its way in.

Light Breeze, surrounded by pegasi in the clouds above Fillydelphia, walked to the edge of a diving board and stared down at her family clustered on a lower platform. They cheered for her, smiling and waving, and she couldn't smile back. Silver Dust, cloudwalking with Soda Pop, and Jake all whooped for her. Their cheers made her heart shrivel.

For weeks, she had lied to and deceived them, and her body felt like lead. It felt heavy, weak.

He felt human.

The wind kicked up and flung him from the platform, and everything his mother had taught him and the instructors at after school lessons had drilled into him fled. Like a pathetic chicken, like a human flapping their arms, he fell like a stone with feathers peeling off his wings. By the time the earth raced up to meet him, he had lost every last one.

Whimpering softly, Light Breeze tried to banish the thought. She reminded herself that the foulest, cruelest, most dishonest pony in the world wouldn't lose their magic for it. Given how hard she'd fought and practiced, it seemed impossible that she would fall.

Yet, fall she did in her mind, over and over again.

Her mother snorted, her wings tensing as though to rise, but she only turned over and hugged her pillow with her wing tightening. Light Breeze let it comfort her before carefully slipping free to go to the bathroom, moving with the grain of her mother's striated feathers so as not to disturb her.

After leaving the bathroom, she delicately padded down the wide stairs to the living room rather than return to bed. There she paced, in part to remind herself of how it felt to walk on all fours, in part to chew over her thoughts.

Though she'd gone to bed with the sun setting and rose with the sun rising, some portion of her long exhaustion lingered in soreness and aches. The keep-awake potion had overstayed its welcome thanks to her abuse. Even so, it was the guilt that churned her stomach.

Soon enough, her mother, father, and brother would wake, and she would be faced with the choice once again.

Then a knock came at the door. It had to come twice before Light Breeze noticed it, as she'd been too focused on her thoughts to hear it over her hooves on the kitchen tile. Her ears flicked up, and she hurried to the door with her wings lightly spread to peer out the window.

A white-winged vesper stood outside in the snow, her eyes catching hers in the glass. "Hello, Light Breeze," the mare called through the door softly. "I would have a word with you, and it cannot wait."

With her heart in her throat, Light Breeze fumbled above the handle for a moment before remembering that they didn't have deadbolts in Fillydelphia. Pressing the lever with her hoof, she pulled it open. "I… I'm Light Breeze, yeah. Did… did Princess Luna hear my prayer?" She gazed up at the mare in hope, her ears laid back.

Lightly, the mare shook snow off her coat and wings and scraped her hooves on the welcome mat before entering. Her body was a shade of dark blue, her chin-length mane a lighter shade, and she wore a ceremonial black cape cinched with a silver moon brooch. "Thank you for admitting me, and, to answer your question, not as such. Yet, it reached her all the same, it seems." She swept a wing as pale as the moon to her. "Princess Luna has taken a personal interest in your plight, Light Breeze. She has seen the world in which you dream of being another, and it is her aim to set you free from your curse."

Light Breeze's eyes widened further, and she sprang to her on all fours. "Really? Oh, sea and salt! I… I almost can't believe it. Can the princess really put a stop to this and let me stay here forever?"

"That remains to be seen… and it has not been helped for it having taken this long for the princess to hear of your plight." Her voice turned sharp, and she fixed her with a look. "You are a filly in grave peril, Light Breeze, you must realize that. Whyfor did neither you nor your family seek assistance from the princess? You must have known she would have come at your need."

Light Breeze's voice failed her as her wings and tail drooped to the floor. "I…" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I couldn't make myself." Tears welled up in her eyes. "Tried. I tried, so many times, but…" Her whole body tensed, and she sniffed loudly. "My friends, my family… the thought of anyone knowing what I was, it… it made me feel…"

The mare sighed softly as she trailed off. "But say the word, child, and none but the princess and you shall ever know. Tell me where in the other world you are, so that the princess may rescue you and begin the work of liberating your soul. That is all the information I need to know. I will not intervene between you and your parents. That is not my task."

"No." It came out almost as a gasp as Light Breeze shook her head. "No, I… I'm done running."

Something about the mare's words had cut a thread in Light Breeze's heart. Confronted with the chance to hide had, somehow, rendered how cruel such a thing would be in exquisite detail. Even the possibility that Princess Luna could sweep away her nightmares and let her live as a filly forever couldn't hold a candle against the mountain of her guilt.

In a very real sense, she could never hope to dream until she set down the weight that shadowed it.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I want to tell my family everything. Can I ask you to wait and listen with them?"

The mare frowned, raising a hoof as though to disagree, but after a moment she nodded and touched her withers with a wing. "Be at Harmony with yourself, then, young mare. I will attend. I don't think the delay will be critical."

As a good host, Light Breeze fixed her up with water, toast, and salt before trotting up the stairs. There was, of course, no thought given to leaving a stranger unattended in her house.

Her father she found in Arc Light's room, the two of them apparently having fallen asleep by the window with her brother's telescope, his back resting on their dad's. Knocking on the frame with her hoof until they roused, she went down the hall to her room and wormed back under her mother’s wing for a moment of comfort.

River Wind peeked open an eye and yawned heavily, her forelegs tucking about her. "There you are, sweetie. How were the nightmares?"

"Bad." Her hooves pressed against her, and their eyes met. "Mom? I'm… I'm ready to talk now." She swallowed. "There's an emissary from Princess Luna here. I didn't want to talk to her without telling you, Dad, and Arc the whole truth, like…" She sniffed "... like I should have from the beginning…"

River Wind heaved a great sigh and squeezed from all sides. "Yes, Light, you should have. Your father and I respect your boundaries, but… I won't lie. I was going to mail Princess Luna today one way or the other. That she already knows is a huge relief."

"I've learned my lesson." Light Breeze sniffed and nuzzled her back. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll forgive you after you make it right. That's the rule." Her mother nipped her ear and the two of them roused to join her father, brother, and the mysterious mare downstairs.

They gathered about the living room, and Light Breeze climbed in between her parents on the couch, her eyes downcast. Every part of her, from her head to her ears to her wings and tail, drooped about as low as they could go, and she sighed heavily. Talking about it brought back memories more strongly, it made them more real, and she had to draw on all of their love and comfort not to chicken out.

"I want to say, first, that I'm sorry for not telling anypony the whole truth about what's going on with me until now. When Luna's emissary came, she even offered to let me keep it secret, but that was what did it." She sniffed and rubbed her nose. "I knew I couldn't live with myself if you all didn't know. The secret just had this kind of inertia to it, like a cart running down a hill, and by the time I noticed it was gone it was too late. I was ashamed, but every time I decided not to tell I felt guilty, which made me more ashamed, and so on."

Arc Light, curled up on the carpet by the radio, frowned up at her. "Didn't you trust us?"

"I did!" She looked up at her parents with an agonized expression. "At first, I just didn't want to hurt you, but then it snowballed. I swear, it had nothing to do with trust. It's… it's just a really sad story."

Star Seeker nodded and nosed at her side. "We're not happy about it, but I'm not unhappy with you. Your mother and I both did silly things when we were younger, and the only thing that really upset me was that you were hurting and it didn't seem as if we could do anything to help you."

She tucked her head against his side. "You really are the best father." She sighed. "I'm just going to rip the band-aid off and say it so I can finally feel clean." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I have two lives."

River Wind frowned, her tail lashing at her side. "Come again?"

"I…" She wet her lips and nodded in thanks when her brother floated her a glass of water. She tucked it into her hooves. "Whenever I close my eyes and dream, I'm not really dreaming. Those bad dreams I mentioned aren't really dreams. When I close my eyes, I open them in another world as another person. Always, since as far back as I can remember. It's Fillydelphia, but its dark mirror, populated only by one species of bipeds, and I'm one of them. They're called humans, and not all of them are bad. I… I'm not even a filly there. I'm a colt, at least in body, but I've rejected that, too."

It was everything she feared, and she hadn't even presented the worst of it yet. Her brother stared in shock, and her mother folded and unfolded her wings, not even sure how to process the information at first, but her face was twisted with indignation. "How did this happen? Star Seeker, I thought you said she wasn't cursed?"

Her father's ears lay flat as he hugged her about the shoulders. "I am a hundred percent sure. There's no magic involved. Oh, stars and moon, sweetheart…"

"A colt?" Arc Light raised his head with a frown creasing deep. "But you don't want to be? Why don't they just fix that with magic."

"That's one of the worst parts!" She spread her wings as much as she could. "They don't have magic! Lots of people believe in it, but I've never seen a thing. It's horrific. Lots of them struggle just to put food on the table because they can't rely on magic or the system to take care of them, and like a lot of people they don't have cutie marks, but they don't have anything else to fall back on, either! Lots of them are in despair because they think they're all alone in a dead, lifeless universe." She grit her teeth. "It certainly feels dead, anyway. I… I've been struggling to stay awake all this time and trying to sleep as much as I can over there because I hate it there. I hate being that colt and… and…" She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering a fist to her gut. "And worst of all, I hate the family I have over there."

"A family?" Her mother's hooves tensed.

Light Breeze plowed on before her momentum could abandon her, and started to choke up. Her hooves pressed into the firm cushions of the couch. "Uh huh… there's a mother named May, a father named Frank, and two older brothers named Adam and Jeremiah, and all of them are monsters." Hot tears pressed their way from her eyes as images of them flashed at her, every muscle in her body tensing. "I-I didn't want to talk about them, I wanted it all to just go away and stop. If I didn't talk about it, maybe it wouldn't be as real."

"Light Breeze?" Her mother's hoof pressed into her side, her tone comforting but with an edge she couldn't quite contain. "What did this… other family do to you?"

She shook her head, body shaking as little cries escaped her lips.

Taking off his glasses, her father rubbed his face with his hooves. "Oh my stars…"

River Wind's feathers spread as barely contained rage flooded through her, but she took a deep breath and hugged her tightly. "What?" Arc Light sat up on his haunches, his eyes flicking from one parent to the other in confusion. "What happened?"

"They…" She hiccuped and buried her face in her mother's side. She wanted her comfort to make her feel better, but the truth of the matter was that she would soon have to return. Frank had seemingly tried to start turning over a new leaf, but she didn't believe for a second that it was really over. Only Luna's intervention gave her hope. "They hurt me…"

"What?" His eyes grew wide. "How? That's… how do they get away with that? Don't their neighbors stop them? How could they live with themselves?" He rose to his feet and rounded on the emissary, his voice choking up. "There has to be something somepony can do, right? Is there a spell I could use to get there and bring her home? Anything!"

The mare met his eyes. "Yes, somepony is helping." The fear in Arc Light's eyes subsided, but his cheeks were still wet.

Light Breeze shook her head and sobbed bitterly, her heart cracking just at the sight of her parents' tears and Arc Light's painful silence. Her helplessness and confusion was reflected in their eyes, and it was everything she had feared.

Star Seeker shook his head fiercely and squeezed in from the other side. "I don't understand a tenth of what's going on, what your circumstances are, or what you're going through, but you don't need to face this alone, Light Breeze. You have us, and we love you."

River Wind nodded fiercely, nuzzling her mane. "You're our baby. I don't care what they think they are, we're your real family. We've got you. Whatever knife we need to cut you free, we'll find it. Anything we can do to help, we'll do it without question." She snorted. "And if I get my hooves on the people who did this to you, nothing will stop me from giving them a piece of my mind."

Even though their comfort felt like a distant thing in her grief, like something happening to someone else, admitting that truth at last had cleansed her just a bit. It wasn't much, but it let her feel their support and lean in. Perhaps it was childish, but she felt for a few seconds like her parents actually could keep her safe. It was an illusion that popped like a soap bubble, but it gave her a moment to breathe.

Arc Light moved to embrace her as well, wrapping his hooves about hers since there was no room left on the couch. “You idiot. You should have told us earlier,” he said, voice cracking. "We could have been spending this time working on a spell or something."

"I was an idiot." Her own voice warbled painfully. "I just… I wanted to live normally while I was here, to pretend nothing was wrong, and I hurt you all in the process. Silver Dust and my other friends deserve apologies, too. I feel so helpless all the time…"

As they pressed together into a family ball, Star Seeker sniffed and looked up as a shadow fell across them. "At the least, we don't have to do this alone. Emissary, I don't think we got your name, but…" Whatever he had to say trailed off into stunned silence.

He couldn't have seen her well without his glasses, and through her own blurred vision Light Breeze made out a figure that seemed far larger and somehow darker on the chair. As she blinked away her tears, she found herself gazing with mingled awe and terror at the towering figure of Princess Luna.

"Forgive me my brief deceit," she said in her soft yet resonant voice. "I wished no harm, only to avoid bringing further upset to your house. I see, though, that my presence here is just as necessary as it is there."

In Light Breeze's experience, ponies were about the same size as humans, albeit stretched horizontally instead of vertically, but no matter how one sliced it, Princess Luna was larger than life. She would have stared a grown human man in the eyes and outmassed him by half, all in a sleek and powerful package of muscle and curves under a dark coat. Blue strands of hair billowed softly in the radiance of her mane, and little constellations danced within it to fade and renew themselves in new combinations.

"Pr-princess!" River Wind gasped, hugging her children close. "Oh, sea and salt…"

Star Seeker tried to bow from his position, but that was hard enough to do on a couch without a teenager and a pre-teen tucked up against you. His glasses tumbled off, and he had to float them back up and rub them clean. "My household is honored to receive a princess of Equestria." He turned his head up to hers, eyes shining with hopeful tears. "Does this mean you can help our little filly?"

"I have certainly bent all my will to the task." She gestured them down with her wings as they started to rise. "No, no… none of that. I did not stir myself from the castle, rouse my entire clan to find you, and come in secrecy for the sake of your obeisance. My sole concern is to your health and safety, Light Breeze."

"At least let me get you bread and salt." River Wind pushed herself up and zipped for the kitchen in a real blur. "There are ancient forms to follow!"

"Light Breeze already… and she's gone." Luna shook her head with a smile. Nothing would do, of course, but for her to take some buttered toast sprinkled with salt - which Light Breeze suspected she tolerated only to allow the four of them a chance to get composed.

It certainly didn't help in her case. The shame and guilt of her long deception still ate at Light Breeze as she sat there on the couch and tried to control her breathing. She managed, if only because of Arc Light pressing in at her side, her big brother doing his best to make up for being unable to protect her. "How long have you known?" he asked. "Did you see her dreams, Princess?"

Princess Luna shook her head. "'Twas the absence that called me, not the presence. I felt your cry for help as well. I have been to the world of which she speaks since. Indeed, I just came from there."

"That's great!" Her father slid a hoof about River Wind as she rejoined them on the couch. "We can resolve this, and Light Breeze doesn't have to suffer these nightmares anymore, right?"

Her ears splayed back. "That, Star Seeker, is the intent, though it is complicated. She has told you the experience of her condition, but the background is deep and thorny. To put it in simple terms, your daughter has not one but two bodies, with but one soul stretched between them. Judging by the tale I've been told by her here and her friends there, this is a lifelong issue."

Light Breeze perked up. "You spoke to Jaime and Aisha?" She glanced at her family. "They're my closest friends on the other side. They're basically a pair of vespers, only human." She smiled despite herself. "You must have given them quite a shock. They have no conception of what an alicorn is outside of the journals I left them."

Her parents cast her a concerned, yet hopeful, look, and Luna laughed lightly. "I did, and Tim as well. They are sweet and kind children, and you should be proud to call yourself their friend. I, however, did not go in the flesh, which is part of the problem. Their world presently lacks the magic to support a portal."

"No magic? How do they live?" Arc Light asked in horror. "I mean, I know Light Breeze said it, but hearing it from you is another thing entirely."

"Some magic." She shook her head. "What is important to understand is that, even if your life was perfect in both worlds, you cannot endure in this condition forever. It's already becoming unstable, as no soul was meant to live in two bodies for long. It will be necessary to decide as to one or the other-"

"Equestria!" Light Breeze flared her wings. "Equestria a million times." She flushed as Princess Luna fixed her with a hard gaze and her mother swatted her lightly. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I just want it clear that I very much want to stay here."

Nodding, Princess Luna cleared her throat. "I have no doubt. As I was saying, it is necessary to decide where you are going to stay, and since everypony involved knows you identify as a pony and a filly I knew that was going to be here, but that also makes it a lot harder. Whichever life is chosen, the other must be brought to a close. Had you chosen the human world, I could have done it easily enough and safely guided your soul, but as I lack access to most of my magic there, it becomes difficult."

"Wait." Light Breeze hunched up her shoulders. "That's all it takes? I mean, if all I have to do over there is die-"

"Light Breeze!" her mother gasped, wrapping her in a wing. "Don't talk like that. Not even… in these circumstances."

Ducking her head, she hunched further. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just figured that, if I'm going to live here anyway…"

Princess Luna shook her head firmly. "I understand, Light Breeze, but please do not consider it. Dying, truly dying, in one's dreams is one of the fates I take the greatest care to help the people of Gaia avoid, and it is a terrible fate. The soul becomes a lost and broken thing, unable to find its way back, and there's no guarantee even I will ever find it. Considering that your body lies on the opposite end of the vast and terrible abyss that bridges the worlds, I cannot fathom you safely finding your way across in that condition. It's a wonder you have managed so far."

Increasing horror dawned on her parents' faces. "So, what you're telling us, Princess," her mother said slowly as she pulled Light Breeze in closer, "is that our filly not only has to go on living with some cruel other family, but that if something… happened to her on the other side, she may well never wake up again, and you can't do a thing about it?"

"And it's getting worse over time," Arc Light added in a strained voice.

Luna lifted a hoof placatingly. "I can do a great deal, River Wind. I have already secured assistance on the other side, and I will be removing Light Breeze from her human kin. That's part of why I came here today, to find out where she is on that side. Once she's under my wing and safe from harm, I'll be able to work with her on how to end this unnatural separation."

Perking her ears up, Light Breeze nodded. "So I'm, uhm, I admit I wasn't very attentive on the car ride or to the address, but I do know that I'm in an isolated cabin up in the Poconos Mountains that my human father took me to. If it helps you find it, the cabin is by a lake, and it has, uh…" She tapped her hoof against her cheek. "I guess you'd call it a very modern design? It's all white and boring, and I mean that both in a color and a white people sense."

Her parents stared at her as though she'd just started jabbering in another language entirely, and she laid her ears flat, but Princess Luna nodded.

"It's enough to go on, I think. I will call upon my new friends and disciples on Earth to locate it, and then I will come for you." She glanced between them with a wistful expression. "You have a loving and very protective family, Light Breeze, and are very lucky. I want to reassure you that you are not as helpless as you think, either." She lifted her wings to gesture at the four of them together. "In modern Equestrian, we say that friendship is magic, but when I was little and my parents held me, it was stated a little differently. Love is the grace of divine Harmony, forged in our faith for one another, the joy we revel in, the altruism we share, the compassion that opens our hearts, and the truth of our convictions." She lowered her wings. "I promise, the love that you build here will buttress her for the trials she must face in slumber, and it will strengthen her bonds to this world, this life. Witnessing your daughter open up the way she did - and seeing your acceptance - ignited hope in my ancient breast. It was like a fresh breeze had blown through and cleared away the detritus that had accumulated. Continue to live according to the Elements of Harmony here, and I have no doubt we will prevail."

Though her parents were far from satisfied after Princess Luna's speech, Light Breeze much preferred their determined, hopeful looks to the despair that had tinged them.

"I still wish I could fly out and buck the bastard who laid a hoof on my daughter into oblivion." River Wind snorted, stamping a hoof on the couch. "Still, if love is what it takes to keep my daughter safe, then she's going to be the most loved child in the history of Gaia."

"Hear hear." Star Seeker pressed in on her side. "Please, Princess, let me know if I can help with any spell craft that may be required. Do we know what caused this?"

Princess Luna shook her head. "No, but, to be frank, I consider that immaterial to fixing the issue. I can ponder the cause and significance when Light Breeze is safe and sound." She turned and stepped to the door. "I must be going. In all likelihood, my vessel on the other side will be too deep in sleep to be roused in whatever the equivalent local time is, so I saw no harm in dallying, but I should not dally longer than I have already." She opened the door, shimmering into the form of an alabaster-winged vesper once again. "Light Breeze? I'll see you again shortly."

"Wait!" She held out her hoof. "How will I know you?"

"Oh, fear not, child. You will know me." She laughed and leapt into the morning sky, leaving Light Breeze and her family to sort each other out.

Turning, River Wind hugged her once again. "Is it me, or did she not give us a hot or cold on whether or not she could actually help?"

"Taking Light Breeze's other body somewhere safe and studying the problem is action, my love." Star Seeker pressed in shoulder-to-shoulder. "I know that's not really a pegasus idea, but the princess is thousands of years old and has access to the full resources of Equestria. There's always a way."

Rubbing her damp eyes with a hock, she looked up at her parents. "I'm sorry for the, uhm, fourth time? I haven't been keeping track. I'll probably be sorry forever."

Her mother shook her head. "We learned a lesson about keeping secrets, yes? I've said it before that, if you need help, you turn to the people you love. We don't carry burdens alone in this family."

"I'll tell my friends, too." She sniffed. "I've been awful to them."

"Good." River Wind went to the rack by the door and tossed Light Breeze's scarf to her. Her mother's feathers gleamed amid the stitching, and it still smelled like her. "You can do that after your flying lessons."

Arc Light lifted his ears. "After all that? Shouldn't we stay home and let her rest? Maybe try to study the problem with our own magic?"

"Like your father said, Arc," River said, nuzzling her son's mane, "that's not really how pegasi do things. Our magic starts and ends with motion. Light Breeze, I don't think I really understand what's going on much better than I did before, but it doesn't matter. You're my filly, and this is where you belong. I take it you don't even have wings on the other side, huh? Let alone magic to use them with?" She extended a wing. "What say we use them, and let the sky remind you of who you really are?"

With a choked sob, she galloped to her mother's side and pressed in under the offered wing. "I've been waiting to hear that all my life, Mom. Yes, please, a thousand times yes."

Star Seeker smiled at the sight, even if his eyes danced with worry, and he took his own scarf down and cinched it. "Don't worry, Arc Light. There's going to be time to study the problem. We wouldn't miss your first flight for anything, Light Breeze."

As they trotted out together into the snow, she opened her wings to the cool, refreshing wind that stirred artful flurries in the air to stick into her mane. Princess Luna had been right - she was blessed with a great family, and nothing else could give her the strength to face the world that lay beyond her shut eyes. She'd never believed rescue would or even could come, hadn't entirely allowed herself to completely let go of Owen's fear that Equestria was a fancy, until the princess entered her life. For the first time in a while, she felt real joy.

Compared to many of the young pegasi from in and around the city she wove through, Light Breeze felt like some plodding lout. It was especially funny, since as someone with a unicorn for a father she had a slighter frame than many of them, but at least a few of the colorful fillies and colts she trotted by with her mother had never felt the touch of solid earth beneath their delicate hooves, let alone the concrete of a Fillydelphia sidewalk. Though she’d slept on a cloud bed ever since moving off of her parents’, her steps were less sure than theirs on the springy substance of the cumulus and she had a bad habit of putting her hooves down too heavily. The cloud did most of the work in springing back, a thin film forming beneath every step and bouncing back, but she was treating it as though it were sand until she found her stride again.

“Stars, Light, I need to take you up more often,” River Wind said with a wince as they walked towards the tower that loomed at the northern part of the cloud field. Icy cold winds tugged at their manes and tails. “Guess you’ll be able to take yourself up pretty soon, though.”

“It was probably enough, but…” She pressed in close to her, her ears laying back. “I dunno, maybe I’m overthinking things, but I can’t help but think of how I’ve had almost twice as much life experience as a lot of other fillies and colts my age. Whenever everypony else goes to sleep, I wake up and start the whole day again.” More, of late, but over the course of her life it averaged out. “I don’t have wings or magic or anything over there, so of course I’m not going to be as good at being a pegasus as everypony else.”

Her mother scrunched up her face. “Light Breeze? That is exactly the sort of dumb thing I said when I was a teenager trying to be profound.” She nudged at her with a hip. “You’re a little weird, but that’s okay. Everypony gets to be a little weird. You’re not older than your years—if you were, we wouldn’t have had to wait this long to hear from you—and you’re not broken, if that’s what you’re getting at. I mean, look at it this way: maybe you've got two lives’ worth of memories, but you’ve only got your scrawny twelve year-old brain to stuff them into, right?”

Light Breeze sniffed and smiled up at her wanly. “Right. I don’t really remember much more than I would otherwise, I guess.”

River Wind paused with her at the base of the tower, stretching a wing out to her side. Above, banners welcoming students from across the Greater Fillydelphia Area fluttered in the high winds, and the finishing touches were being made on the layers of clouds that staged down towards the sea, with pegasi waiting to catch those who fell. Courses were laid out with hoops and platforms. “Look at me, Light Breeze. I don’t care who you are on that other side. It scares me to death that, when you fall asleep tonight, you’re going to be in some strange country where I can’t come save you. Even with Princess Luna on the case, you’re gonna need to show the kind of bravery a filly your age never should have been saddled with. You’re going to make it through, though, because you are a pegasus, even without wings, and you are my daughter, even over there.” She cuffed her cheek gently. “You said it yourself: you chose us. You didn’t hesitate or nothing, even with your double life.”

Light Breeze threw herself at her mother, hooves and wings clenched tightly around her. “I… I’ve lived half my life with a family that could barely have cared if I lived or died, and I don’t think it was ever a choice. I would pick you, though, even if they’d been normal. You’re the best mom any filly has ever had.”

“I know.” River Wind nuzzled into her mane and nipped her ear, just hard enough to sting. “Don’t you ever doubt whether or not I can handle your pain again, you hear me?”

Wincing, Light Breeze nodded fiercely. “I promise. I’ll never be that stupid again.”

An announcement rang out across the field. “Fillies and gentlecolts! Please ascend the towers. Instructors will be waiting for you.”

“Good luck.” Her mother nuzzled her one last time and gave her a push. “Not that you’ll need it.”

Scaling the corkscrew ramp inside of the cloud tower, Light Breeze watched as the city grew further and further away through the airy arches. When she reached the top, where a walkway extended out into the blue nothing, she stood behind a short line of other young fillies and colts her age as instructors took them towards the edge and then off, vanishing out of sight. As she neared the front of the line, she glanced off the side and saw the dizzying drop far below.

As his eyes widened, Owen’s wings snapped shut against his back and sides. The city and its trees seemed almost flat from so far up, and the Delamare merely a blue scar against the green. Just like in his waking nightmare, all understanding fled. His limbs started to go numb as the ringing in his ears grew.

“Hey,” a stallion in an orange vest touched his side with a wing. “You okay? You can head back down for some air if you need a moment.”

Owen gazed up at him in headlights for a bit before shaking his head and awkwardly pressing across the clouds to the edge. “N-no. I’ve got this. I was born to it.”

“Yes…?” He frowned, trotting up to his side. “Take a deep breath, girl. What’s your name?”

“It’s Light Breeze,” he said, insisting on it. His hooves quaked as he stared over the side, and, forcefully, he looked to the stands where his mother and father watched with Arc Light. Both of the unicorns had cloudwalking spells to let them maneuver on the puffy white, and they huddled together against the chill and, as they saw him looking, all three cheered.

“Just a second.” His ears swiveled, and he could just hear their voices. Shutting his eyes, he took a deep breath, and as she let it out she reminded herself of everything she cared about, everything she loved about her body. She loved the solidity of her hooves, the way her ears turned, her flowing tail and even her messy mane. She held the scarf close and reminded herself of her mother’s sea salt scent, and spread her powerful wings as she exhaled.

When she faced the course again, watching other young pegasi arc and dive, she nodded. “Okay. I’m ready.”

He seemed surprised at the sudden confidence in her voice, but nodded. “Okay. Just remember your lessons and follow my lead.” Leaping from the edge, he snapped his own wings free and glided slowly, letting her catch up.

Screwing up all of her courage, her self-worth, and her strength, Light Breeze set her wings to catch the wind and drew on her magic. Awareness of the air around her flooded in, and, with a fierce cry, she leapt from the edge of the cloud over nothingness.

As she glided, she tucked her wings, zipping past him as she picked up speed and spiraled for the first ring. She cut through it, then snapped her wings up and laughed as the air caught her, then beat them harder and faster as she swam against gravity. Far from dropping like a stone, she arced up and danced through another cloud ring, leaving behind trailing mist, and her excited crowing startled the hovering emergency crews. The instructor caught up with her in a few seconds and scolded her for racing ahead, but she didn’t care. Her wings churned the sky, and, as she spread them to the sun, she let Owen’s last fears quietly die.

She knew where she belonged.

Chapter 10 - Reflection

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Crossing the abyss between worlds could and would never be described as easy, but even two passages gave Selene greater confidence and strength, allowing her to emerge in her full astral form instead of a wisp.

As she flew back to the Philadelphia branch of their world's twisted dream tree, she reflected on her regret for having rushed by her vespers on her way back. When she'd returned from the human world the first time, she'd barely lingered long enough for Whisper Lark to look up Light Breeze's address, and nothing would do but to go herself. She'd given her little more than a "Thank you" on her return, which felt rude, but haste compelled her.

At the very least, Whisper would be cross at her for not eating or resting properly, but she could not afford to dally longer than she already had.

Trying to parse the differences in the relative passage of time between the two worlds was effectively impossible from her vantage, and she imagined that as circumstances changed so too might that variation, but she tried not to let that trouble her as she searched for Luna the Witch's light. At worst, she might simply have to wait until she was in a proper state to possess. If she was in a state of sleep too deep for dreams or awake and not tranced, neither was conducive to riding.

In fact, she found her almost immediately, a shining alabaster ball delicately embraced by silver tracery that stood out vividly amid the thorns that pointed hungrily towards it. The sight caught Selene off guard, and she delicately cupped the sphere in her hooves. Luna's sleeping mind seemed to have formed a little bubble of calm, which was more than she might have expected. It gave her hope for these poor creatures.

Taking a breath—itself a bit of a bad habit, given that she didn't breathe in the dream space—Selene dove in.

Groggily, Selene flicked her eyes open. The sleep lingering in her limbs made a sluggish creature of her as divine essence flooded to every little finger and toe tip like smoke into a glass vessel. Indeed, she couldn't move at all at first, the body she rode paralyzed for its own safety before she could override it.

While she lay there unmoving, dark shapes emerged from the shadows. They squirmed out of crevices, from the cracked casement of the window, through the bars of the vents, and stood around her on the bed. Cold, clammy hands felt at her, their fingers like points of frost. They drank in the light, cutting off the wan sunlight from outside and growing larger as they dug for her essence.

Forcing a breath, Selene gathered power inside of her and drew on her mastery of dreams, projecting her thoughts outward. Searing blades of silver arced in her imagination, ripping through the shadowed figures, tearing to pieces those that did not scurry fast enough into the dark recesses. When she shook off the last of sleep and pushed Luna's body to wakefulness with a gasp, the room was back to normal in the gray light of morning, with no sign that anything had happened. Selene examined Luna's body and found no damage, at least not that a physical eye could see. Her sense of the Unseen revealed pock marks, red spots left behind as though incredibly cold rods had sucked out the warmth.

The light flicked on, and Moira stood in the door, concerned. "Luna, you okay? I heard you shout." As she settled her gaze on her, she flushed and looked up at the ceiling. "Uh… you wanna put some clothes on?"

Selene glanced down. Luna's full breasts—which did not necessarily indicate that she was pregnant, as she had feared—hung free above her sheets, and she'd kicked off enough to fully expose herself from knees to neck. "Apologies, Moira. I do not normally pay much heed to my state of dress."

"Selene!" Moira sounded thrilled, though she pointedly did not look down. "You're back! Though, that's funny. She normally swans around in a fancy nightgown."

A silky, purple dress had been laid on the chair near the bed, and Selene grabbed it. Unlike her own hair, Luna's was a tangled mass down her back until laboriously treated, as she'd discovered the previous day, and she winced at a tangle as she pulled it free of the hem. "I am decent by human standards. As for my cry earlier, I was attacked."

Moira stepped in while Selene pulled up Luna's cellphone to check for messages. She peeked around the bedroom, with its many charms and candles, and checked the window. "Attacked? By what?"

"Unquiet spirits, some manner of dream predator taking advantage of a lull in my strength to prey upon me. Have you any knowledge of shadowy figures that might appear between waking and sleep?"

"Uh, a few, actually. Shadow people, demons witnessed during sleep paralysis, and maybe some other stuff. Are you saying those are…?"

"Real, yes."

Nothing had come in from the Gaines siblings other than a conversation with their cousin. Announcing herself as Selene, she charged the two of them with finding out where Light Breeze might be kept, using all of the details she'd been provided. "I managed to speak with Light Breeze in my world last night. She has a very lovely family, and it will be a bit before she wakes up, I think, but we should hurry. I will require your assistance in finding her." She paused and regarded the various charms around the room. Most were as dead as the dry wood or bone they had been carved from, but a couple that looked new sparked some interest.

"First, come here. I think I have the ideal opportunity to teach you something, and it won't take long if you have the inclination."

Moira perked up at once, coming to sit next to her on the bed at her direction. "What is it?"

"I'm going to need to protect your and Luna's sleep from now on—likely, her nephew's and niece's as well, as they have a strong natural inclination to magic, and possibly Tim now that his little heart is clear." She took two of the charms, each a tumbled rock carved with an identical scratch mark, some letter that was likely intended magically. "What are these?"

"Runestones. They're letters in an old language. These specific ones are used for protection."

"I thought as much." Selene placed one into each hand. "Can you tell the difference between them by feel?"

Moira felt at them with her fingers. "The speckled one's got a rougher texture on the letter than the other? I know Luna was in kind of a frenzy last night after she woke up. Said she felt weird and 'witchy.' Hell, she stayed up longer than usual."

"I bet." Selene took them back. "Close your eyes." She held the older, smoother one up to her face, right between the eyes. "What do you feel?"

"Nothing. Your hand moved pretty close?" Moira shifted in place.

"Breathe. Now what do you feel?"

Moira shifted into a new posture, her back straight on the dark blue coverlet, hands on her knees. "Nothing."

Swapping them, Selene held up the newer stone. "What do you feel?"

"Nothing? Something? It was a twinge." Moira huffed a sigh. "I think it was just the air from your hand. Maybe your weight shifted on the bed."

"Hold onto that feeling. Don't get discouraged, and don't overthink it."

Back and forth Selene swapped them at random, and she gently teased her, blowing a bit of breath laced with her essence.

Wordlessly, she lifted the old stone, and Moira only breathed. When she lifted the new stone, though, she shifted in place.

"I felt something. I'm not sure how to describe it. It's kind of a pressure, or a warmth?"

Triumphantly, Selene held the stones closed in her hands before her. "Okay. Open your eyes and point out which is which."

Trembling faintly, Moira reached out and tapped her right hand, and jumped a little as Selene opened it to reveal the speckled stone. "Congratulations, you've started to work on your magical senses. Without a horn, there's only so far that can take you, but anypony—or anyone, rather—can learn it to some degree. Even in this shape, I still have them."

"Wow." Moira took the stone with her eyes shining. "So, Luna made this last night? What's different between now and when she made the other one?" She paused. "Oh. You, obviously."

"It bodes well for when the time comes for me to ride you. I will be doing it with the deliberate aim of tweaking you to work my kind of magic." She patted her knee. "Light Breeze is being held in a cabin in the Poconos. I'll put you in touch with the Gaines siblings, who are looking into it. Please, use your power to Google strangers to help find her." A twinge went through her as she looked outside.

"I'm on it!" Moira left the stone back on the sill and hurried out, and Selene regarded it for a moment.

Alone, it hadn't been up to the task of repelling the weight of the invaders that morning, but the fact that Luna had made it at all suggested that she herself might have been threatened. There was a quick way to find out, of course, and she could take the time to make herself presentable for the trip in any event.

After dressing in Luna's typical attire of an earthy dress and long, thick stockings for the weather, she planted herself on the tarnished vanity and met the eyes of-

Nothing.

Frowning, Selene peeked around the corners of the mirror. "Luna? Luna are you there?"

Within the mirror, a shape groaned on the bed.

"Luna, your body has been awake for quite some time now. You aren't actually sleeping."

"Too tired," came the groggy response. "Go back to bed."

It was true that Selene felt sluggish, still. Even with her power, she was fighting against familiar fatigue. Mornings belonged to her sister, not to her. "I know the urge, but we have a mission, and I want to ask you a few questions." She tugged pitifully at her tangled hair, a brush nearly getting eaten by the snarls. "Not least of which is the secret of how to manage your mane."

"No!" A figure bolted up in the sheets. "Don't you lay a finger on my hair! It's very delicate, and you might—" she tumbled off the side of the bed in a lump "—ack!"

With some amusement, Selene watched her battle with the purely imaginary sheets on her side, wondering if she would ever realize that she could just think herself over to the mirror, only for it to melt away into shock when she pulled free.

What emerged from the sheets was no woman. A sleepy, blue mare's head with long, tangled silver hair popped free, her ears tufted and eyes slightly slit. The body that shimmied free had the alabaster wings of a Moonblossom vesper.

Luna herself hadn't seemed to notice yet, and Selene couldn't say a word as she trotted up to the mirror and set her hooves on the edge with a swish of her long tail, yawning and showing off her fangs. "Sorry," she said, covering her mouth with a hoof. "I was just so… tired…" She trailed off, staring at her hoof, then following it back to her barrel. She gaped at the rest of her body, and then she screamed. "Oh my gods!"

Selene cleared her throat. "Luna…"

"Why am I a horse?" She clattered with all fours in place, freaking out. Her wings jutted in all directions, and if she'd been real she would have smashed her actual ceramic idols instead of the fake ones. "What happened to me?"

She bounded back to the mirror, gripping it with her forehooves, tilting the view from her side as she stared with wide eyes. "But… but I look normal on that side! Selene, my lady, what happened?"

Selene lifted her hands, shushing her gently. "Deep breaths, Luna. I… I think carrying me may have had some unexpected side effects. I've never ridden someone who wasn't a vesper before, and it seems I may have, ah… incidentally shaped your soul into something more familiar."

"You shaped my immortal soul?"

"Well, souls have multiple parts, and I may have shaped the part of you that conceives of yourself, yes. That's your astral body, as I think you call it these days."

Luna slumped to the floor on the other side, wrapping herself up in blankets with only her fluffy ears poking out. "I have a horse's hame," she whimpered, using a word Selene wasn't familiar with, at least not in context. She didn't seem to know how to take it, examining the shiny walls of her hooves from within the shell, which looked as if they'd been pedicured. She tended towards vanity, after all. "Moira! Moira, get in here! How did this happen? You know how this shit works don't you?"

Selene sighed at her caterwauling and pushed back on the vanity. "Moira? Could you step into the bedroom? Luna would have a word with you."

Carrying her laptop, Moira stepped inside, a glazed donut sticking out of her mouth. She set the former down and bit the latter off. "What's she want?" she asked after politely chewing and swallowing, knowing that Selene took exception to poor manners.

"How does she eat the way she does and stay that thin?" Luna moaned on the other side, rolling over in her blankets into a despondent burrito. "It's not fair! Nothing is fair."

Selene glanced at her and back at Moira. "It appears my occupation of her had a side effect. At present, her spirit resembles an equine—a white-winged vesper, to be precise, one of my own adopted clan. Would you happen to know why this is? Luna seemed to think you had knowledge relevant to this matter."

"You don't know?" Moira's brows lifted.

"I've only rarely had occasion to do this before, and not for long."

"Oh, well." Moira sat on the edge of the bed. "It's pretty simple, really. There are a lot of myths about what the gods do to people they're especially interested in. In shamanism, the idea of the spirits ripping you apart and knitting you back together a little differently is a common idea, basically forcibly transforming your soul to work magic and understand them better. In some other cultures, the gods will take someone as their spouse or child and work them in a similar way. I would guess that is essentially what happened to her, albeit unintentionally. You shaped her soul to better carry yours and to be more like you." A grin split her freckled features. "You might say that you made her a better horse."

Luna's head jerked up and she growled. "Moira, you-!" She wiggled her tail and bit Moira's reflection in the leg with an audible chomp.

In the real world, Moira flinched. "Gah!" She rubbed her leg, as though a bee had stung it. "The hell was that?"

"Luna is a little distraught at the moment." Selene carefully teased out Luna's curls with her fingers. "Her reflection bit yours in her dream world. I believe you felt it because your senses have developed."

"So, you basically see into her oneiros?"

Though she rolled her eyes to the sky and stamped her hoof, acting out seemed to have given Luna an outlet for her frustration. "Tell her an oneiros isn't really a thing. It's literally just a Greek word for dreams. She's just using that term because of a roleplaying game she likes."

"Yes," is all Selene said in response. "Does this trouble you, Moira? My method of dream magic will be exceptionally difficult, if not impossible, for you to learn without me shaping your essential nature."

The smile didn't leave Moira's face, and she bounced a little on the edge of the bed. "Are you kidding? I'm thrilled! Can you even imagine what it's been like for me? I know I've talked about it before, but learning magic by turning into something else has been, like, a dream of mine! In every bitter, cynical witch's heart is a little girl who just wants to be a unicorn."

"Well, I can't really make you into a unicorn," Selene demurred. "You'll have to take that step yourself if you want to become a princess like me. Would a bat-winged, night-loving version of a pegasus do?"

"Would it?" Moira's eyes practically sparkled. "Would we be able to transform here on Earth? That would be so sick. I mean, uh… that would be wonderful, Selene."

"I see no reason why not. Not immediately, perhaps, but I think we got a glimpse of at least one facet of why magic is so lacking on this world." She turned her head to Luna. "I am very sorry for transforming you against your will."

Letting out a long sigh, Luna clambered up onto her bed and laid out behind Moira. "I suppose if it'll let me learn magic… besides," she added reluctantly, "I suppose I do look kind of cute. Am I considered attractive where you are from?"

"Ravishing."

"Speaking of," Moira said, "could we come live in your world? I read through those journals, and honestly it sounds like an awesome place to live."

Selene paused, giving Moira an assessing look. "Did you just hear Luna?"

Moira glanced around at the bare bed from her angle. "You know, I swear I did."

"I think you've misjudged your own potential, Moira." She took her hand, smiling. "I knew there would be a lovely, sensitive young mare there once I scratched the surface. I'm sure you'll make a lovely vesper, too."

Blushing, Moira ducked her head and smiled hopefully. "Thank you. I guarantee you, those three kids would join us in a heartbeat, too. Especially if it meant getting to visit Equestria."

"That… may prove a tall order. I would like that as well, but to build a portal between worlds would require some work on this end first." She hesitated. "I can't guarantee it will be viable within your lifetimes, even, though we should be able to change your forms before then."

Moira looked despondent. "Our whole lifetimes? You mean, those kids and I may never live to see Equestria? They're gonna be devastated if they can't ever see their friend again."

Selene squeezed her hand. "You'll be able to visit in dreams, and should you die, I will catch you and bring you home to reincarnate on Gaia with my vespers. Then again, if we can figure out what's strangling magic on this world and recruit more good people like yourselves to combat it, maybe world crossing in the flesh will be possible much, much sooner than my more conservative estimate." She pulled back and turned to the mirror. "That's actually something I wished to address with you, Luna, now that you've calmed somewhat. Were you attacked last night by supernatural forces?"

Caught in the middle of studying her new spiritual body, Luna blinked at her. "Oh, right." She tossed her mane and sat up on her haunches. "Yes, Lady Selene, I was. After staying up all night, I started to drift, and then I noticed a weird little creature feeding on me. It was latched to my leg like a lamprey, and when I jolted awake it was gone, but I cleansed the room and made some ward stones. That did the trick, I think."

"Parasites of the pneuma," Selene hissed. "That's definitely not good. I may need to start making an effort to search for those. I wouldn't be surprised if those kids had a couple. I myself was assailed by them when I was vulnerable. It was as though a feast had just dropped into their laps, and they came in a feeding frenzy."

Pushing away from the vanity, Selene folded a leg over the other and frowned.

"What is it?" Moira asked. "This is good news at least. We know why magic is fuck—uh, not functioning well in our world."

"Not the entire story. Neither the parasites nor the state of the dream tree alone could cause devastation this total. They're symptomatic, and clearing them out will help magic flow for us, but it's not the root cause. You had gods here, I'm sure of it, and Harmony at some point, and together both should have been able to cleanse such creatures, but it's clear something is deeply wrong." Selene shook her head. "I'm not going to unravel this mystery here. After we rescue Light Breeze, we'll have plenty of time to study the problem while I work on a solution to sever her life safely on this world and you, my dear students, begin the work of saving the dreaming tree and scouring the parasites."

Luna lifted her head hopefully. "Maybe if we do a good enough job cleaning up, we'll be able to uncover whatever is causing this? If it was some terrible accident, we may see a sign, and if something is causing it… well, I can't imagine it would be too happy to see us cleaning up the mess."

"What she said." Moira thumbed at the empty air next to her.

"We had best hope it isn't the latter," Selene said. "None of us are prepared for something that could or would do something like this. At the least, it confirms my supposition that your world is fundamentally similar to mine in many respects. The soil is good, the people have potential, but the fields have been sown with weeds, and the farmers are either absent, asleep, malicious, or a combination of all."

"Well, I can say that I wouldn't be alone in being willing to give up my humanity to help you clean up around here. There are a lot of witches out there just like me who are hungry for even the barest scrap of truth. At the least, maybe if we can fix things, other people won't have to give theirs up in the future. Maybe our world can be more like yours one day."

"I think once we clean out the major issues, humans with natural gifts towards magic will find themselves able to do things previously impossible. That will start a chain reaction of sorts, just like how my presence helped shape both of you." Selene squeezed her hand. "And of course I will be there to guide you. Like I said, I won't abandon you, especially not now that I've stuck my big hoof in and changed one of you." She smiled. "Who knows? Perhaps with my guidance, the two of you can become gods like me. I certainly plan to steer you in that direction."

"I could see myself as a god," Luna said with a little laugh. "Well, I can't say I'm as thrilled as Moira, but once I calmed down…" She examined her hooves thoughtfully. "Honestly, it's not so bad."

Moira turned to her computer, swiping about with her mouse. "On the Light Breeze front, Aisha and Jaime and I managed to work out where we're going, I think. We narrowed down the likely cabins, so all we've got to do is go door-to-door and find her."

Selene nodded and got to her feet. "Let's go. The sooner we secure our lost foal, the sooner we can begin your real magic lessons."

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Moira sprang to her feet and raced off to get dressed.

Taking her phone, Selene messaged the children, making sure they would be ready to meet up. As she did, her hand cramped up something fierce, and she winced in pain. Pushing the sensation aside, she glanced around and peered into the spirit world. Little eyes watched from the corners, hungry creatures waiting for their meal, and she inhaled. Silver fire gathered on her breath in the dream, and they scattered.

"Is everything okay?" Luna asked from the mirror. "There's an awful lot of them."

"Indeed, but we can't worry about them, now. You're a very appealing meal at the moment, but I'm too powerful for them to dare."

Heading into the living room, she grabbed a shawl off the rack by the door and slipped her feet into the boots. Together, they stepped into Moira's truck, and Selene patted the dashboard. "Come, noble chariot. Our quarry at last is in sight."

Moira shot her a look, but when the engine roared eagerly to life, with none of its usual coughing complaints, she laughed. "Aw hell yes. Let's do this."

Chapter 11 - Broken People

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Fillydelphia wheeled beneath Light Breeze as she banked and spun over the city. It was as if a whole new world had opened to her, a world she'd been clawing at for years and, in her worst fears, worried might just be fleeting dreams. After not one but two lifetimes of plodding along in two dimensions, she had finally rocketed into three.

"Easy, squirt!" her mother called, shadowing her, and in her voice was an uncomfortable note of worry for a pegasus. "It's the first few hours after your obstacle course. If your wings get tired, just lock them and coast to the ground."

Light Breeze caught a draft of warm air rising off of a rooftop and billowed up to her level, her already messy mane tousled by the wind. "It's cool, Mom! Didn't you say my wings are strong? You saw me at the trials!"

"I did, but I'm getting a pointed lesson in how being a mom sometimes outweighs being a properly fearless pegasus." River Wind flapped her wings, expertly slicing the currents. Light Breeze rode in her wake, letting her break up the rougher air over the river with her superior strength and magic. "If I suddenly fall from the sky, I wake up in a new life. I can't help but think of how we're not likely to be reunited in another life if you do."

Light Breeze's ears pinned back. "I know. I'm not going to reincarnate if something happens, but pegasi fly every day of their lives. Remember when I was little, and I started to freak out about all the things that could go wrong?" She slid up along her side and bumped her with a hoof. "You were scandalized when I said I wanted to exchange my wings for a horn, as if I could just walk into a store and do a return."

River Wind laughed and spun about, scooping her out of the sky to hug her. "I do, now that you mention it."

They arced higher into the sky, the clouds twirling overhead, and as they spun River Wind held her at legs' length before deliberately letting go, allowing Light Breeze to tuck her wings and catch herself. "I trust you, Light, even if I'm going to be a ball of nerves until this is over. It's not fair this was placed on your shoulders. I guess it's not like Equestria isn't sometimes filled with danger, but at least we always have each other."

"I hold you all close to my heart over there, you and my friends." Light inhaled through her nose, reveling in not just the high air, but the crackling burn of her own magic filling her body. It wasn't something most pegasi thought about consciously, the way they drank in the air around them and commanded it by instinct and motion. Perhaps it was the unicorn in her, or maybe the contrast with how dead her human body felt, but it was impossible not to wonder at how her awareness stretched far beyond her body, to test the contours of the wind and even her mother's body, the way she could divine true north even when the sun was obscured, or how every beat and slight shift of her wings could carve the air for far around. Every time she slept, she pulled on a blindfold, stuffed her ears, and weighed down every limb with iron.

Below, large homes sprawled in the outskirts of town. "Speaking of, it's about time I talked to Silver Dust." She turned her head to her mother. "I think I can get home on my own."

River Wind's face betrayed the turmoil between a mother who was proud her filly was striking out on her own and a mother who was terrified something would happen to her the moment she left her reach. "Okay," she breathed. "I've got some shopping to do, so that works out." They slowed to a hover over a tree-lined street, most of the figures trotting by the snow banks below horned. "Light Breeze? You're a good filly. Don't beat yourself up too hard. Like I said… nopony should have been faced with the things you have. Maybe I would have been happier if you'd trusted us before a princess trotted into our living room, but I could never begrudge you being scared."

Light Breeze rushed into her mother's hooves again, the two flapping together as they embraced. "I'm sorry. I want to say that my paranoia from being human was the cause, but… really, what matters is that I messed up, and I'm going to make it better."

"Okay." River Wind slid back. "Love you. See you at home."

"Love you, too." Turning, Light Breeze arced through the trees and landed on the balcony of a big house.

Silver Dust, with wooden stars and planets wheeling about her head in awkward circles, yelped and jumped. The silver light embracing them winked out, and a planet thumped into her head. "Ow!"

Light Breeze winced and trotted over, with wings held loosely at her sides and the lame grin every pegasus who has ever interrupted a unicorn with a surprise visit wore. "Sorry, Dust. Stars and planets drill, huh? At least it wasn't the clock tower. I remember Arc Light's headaches after that one."

Shuddering, Silver Dust picked up the practice pieces one by one. "Don't even mention that. Most ponies don't even know about that drill, for which I'm grateful." She tucked them into a lacquered box and turned to smile at her. "How are you doing? How did your trials go? Apparently pretty good."

Her home, though large, wasn't a mansion. It was funny to her—in the human world, Light Breeze would have resented it, but the income disparity between their families in Equestria wasn't actually all that great. Her parents lived in town, which meant a smaller place, and Silver Dust's dad may have been a baronet, but that hardly meant anything in their day and age. He was a dentist, and landlords didn't even exist.

"I want to be in the air all the time, that's how good they were." As Light Breeze stepped inside, she was struck by the way the afternoon light played across Silver's mane. "You should come out sometime and see me do a few tricks."

Silver smiled and came to press her shoulder against hers, a uniquely equine gesture between friends that put much of her body in contact with Light Breeze. "I'd like that. Wow, your heart is racing." She giggled. "You must be exhausted."

"Y-yeah." Light Breeze scuffed the floor with her hoof. "Hey, Silver Dust, listen… I'm… I'm sorry about… well, I guess it was yesterday. I want to make up for it to you and come clean."

"Okay."

That was the "okay" of "my feelings were hurt, but I understand and am going to hear you out." Swallowing, Light Breeze turned her head to meet her eyes. "The truth is that I… I live two lives. One awake, one asleep."

It was easier than when she told her family. The words came with fewer pauses and no tears, though they did sound a little hollow. Silver Dust listened with quietly growing horror at the tale, pressing closer and closer as though she was afraid Light Breeze might be snapped back to the other world then and there.

"You should have told me!" she squeaked, too upset to put any real force into it. "Oh my stars, Light Breeze…" She tucked her head in under hers, sniffling faintly. "You should have told me."

"I should have," Light Breeze murmured, her own head tucked about hers. It felt good and right in a way being Owen never did, and the life came back into her voice. "I'm sorry. I was wrong, and I lied to you and abused your trust. I won't do that ever again. I promise. I miss you so much when I'm over there, you have no idea."

Her head slid back, and they gazed at one another for a moment, awkward and suddenly shy. Their bodies were close in the room, coats pressed together, and her heart thundered in her ears.

After a pause, Light Breeze stepped back, her face flushed to her ears and wishing she could dunk her head into the icy river. "It'll be okay, though," she said, pausing to wet dry lips. "Princess Luna is on the case, like I said."

"Is there something you're not saying?" Dust asked, rubbing her nose and peering at her. "Even if it's horrible, I can take it. Besides, you promised not to hold anything back, right?"

Light Breeze's wings shifted on her back. "I, yeah, well… it's not about the other world." She rubbed a hoof against her leg, letting the sensation ground her and remind her of who she was. The hoof was the single most profound difference—aside from the magic—between their worlds in her opinion, the symbol of the change. In her art, she sometimes depicted legs as stumpy as a stylistic choice in crowds or when being cutesy, but the real thing was complex and alive.

So was her life on Equestria, but she couldn't rest easily until her other life died.

While she stood there staring at her feet, Silver Dust moved forward and nuzzled at her cheek. "It's okay, Light Breeze. You must be starving. Why don't we go downstairs and have lunch? You don't have to tell me everything that's on your mind."

Pressure built up in her head, and, like when Princess Luna offered to let her get away without telling her parents, she found her mouth opening of its own accord. "I like you."

Light Breeze's habit of blurting out whatever was on her mind had gotten her into trouble before, but the thought of being dishonest, of burying down her feelings once again, was too much to bear. Even so, she couldn't help covering her mouth as her entire face burned.

Silver Dust turned in place midway to the door, one hoof poised in shock, to stare at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, backpedaling to the balcony, but her feet wouldn't go. She'd lied to her family, to her friends, and to herself plenty, and she hated the weight of it. "It's… I really like you, Silver Dust. I didn't want to say anything because… because I don't really know what's going to happen, and I need to keep my… my focus. Ponies don't always survive their magical adventures, and what if I end up worse than dead?" She scuffed her hoof on the carpet. "Worse than that, Dust. I spend half my time as something else, and every second of it is… it's horrible. I hate my body there, it's so weak, and small, and every month it gets worse being a boy and not having my wings. I take all the toxic bullshit of that world home with me if I'm not careful."

She shut her eyes, realizing she was rambling, and sucked in a breath. "What I mean to say is… I like you, Silver Dust, and you're my best friend. I think you're—" she flushed and averted her eyes with a dumb smile "—really pretty. Way prettier than I am, and poised, and cool, but… the thing is, I don't think I'm going to be ready to do anything about it until this is over which might, uhm…" She sighed with her ears pinned back. "It might be a while. I don't even know how I feel exactly, I just know that you're a very, very close friend, and I think you're cute, and you make me feel all kinds of weird, uhm, stuff…"

Silver Dust, once again, absorbed her words in silence. She trotted up to her and peeked around her curtain of sapphire hair coquettishly. "I thought you liked Jake? You're always acting, you know, flighty around him."

"Jake?" Light Breeze peered off to the side. "I don't know. It's all complicated and tangled up, and… and right now, I wish more than anything that I could just be here, forever, and dream like normal ponies do. I want to not have to fear going to bed and know that I won't have to wake up that way ever again. I—"

A hoof planted against her muzzle, the wall snooshing her nose as good as a pause button. "Light Breeze? Deep breaths."

Sucking in a torrent of air, Light nodded and rubbed her leg firmly. "I'm sorry. I must look… super ridiculous."

"I dunno. You say you're used to being someone else until recently, but to me you're still just… Light Breeze." She swayed her tail and peered up at her with her long legs held nervously. "I dunno how I feel, either. I'm, uhm… I guess I'm still figuring things out? I don't even know if I like colts, fillies, both, neither… I guess, uhm… I-I would like to try and find out?" She pressed her hoof to Light Breeze's chest, and she was suddenly aware of every little eddy and current in the air, every mote of dust, and even Silver Dust's very breath.

"Silver!" her mother called from downstairs. "Come down and eat your supper!"

"Coming, Mom!" she called over her shoulder and glanced back, touching Light Breeze's leg—then jumping back a little as she got zapped by static and squeaking.

"Sorry!" Light Breeze ruffled her feathers and quickly tapped the brass of her vanity to discharge. "Pegasus magic going a little haywire. I've felt really strong since flying, and… and since coming here."

"It's fine!" Silver giggled. "Do you want to come with…?"

"N-no." Light Breeze sucked in a breath. "I promised my parents I'd be home in time for dinner, and I'm kind of in trouble right now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered back, watching her head to the balcony.

Normally, Light Breeze needed a bit of a running start to get into the air, but she simply launched into the air with a beat of her wings and soared into the sky at ferocious speeds. Of course, she had to circle back and apologize for scattering Silver Dust's homework after, but the sheer liberation of flight washed away all of her nervousness and doubt. After two lifetimes spent plodding on the ground, it would be hard to go back to walking again.

For once, as the hour of her bedtime approached with the chiming of the hall clock at nine, Light Breeze leapt to her feet with something like enthusiasm. "Okay! I'm off to bed. Good night, everypony." She turned to find her family staring at her in disbelief.

"What? No last minute flight to the grocery store?" Arc Light asked, and glanced at the projector set up near the back of the room. "No attempt to wheedle Dad into putting on another cartoon reel?"

"Nope! I am actually kind of looking forward to getting a good night's sleep for once."

"You aren't going to pretend to be asleep, are you?" River Wind asked. "You know your dad and I are going to be checking, right? Even we don't go to bed at this hour."

Light Breeze hugged her parents. "I know, but I promise, it's not a deception. I mean, leaving aside that getting to fly on my own for the first time today was everything I've ever wanted, the sooner I get to bed is the sooner Princess Luna rescues me, which means I won't have the sword of my fake family shadowing every move I make from now on. It's not going to happen until I sleep, so I kinda want to get it over with."

"Fair enough." Her father came over and wrapped her in his hooves, pressing in tightly. "You're going into danger again, and I don't like it. I especially don't like that I have to stand on the sidelines and wait instead of going in with you. Just play it safe and let the princess take care of everything, okay?"

"I will." Light Breeze nodded and took the stairs. She brushed her teeth, showered, preened, and stood in the doorway to her room, still fluffed from drying off.

The hallway light cast her shadow into a long rectangle across a corner of the bed, its contained clouds shifting endlessly.

Swallowing, Light Breeze resisted every urge to leap through the window and escape sleep for as long as she could and crept forward. "Even when this is over, I'm going to be scared of you for a long time, aren't I? Maybe the rest of my life."

The bed only misted innocently by way of answer.

Putting a hoof to the surface, she hauled herself up like ballast hung from her sides and settled onto the puffy surface. Her magic suspended her, more reliable than any metal, and she gathered some up into a pillow to rest her chin on and shut her eyes.

It took a long time to go to sleep. More than once, hoofsteps echoed in the hall, and the door peeked open, but Light Breeze was determined. Having had no regular sleep schedule for a long while, she suspected her body simply didn't believe she was trying to pass out deliberately for once.

When it came, the abyss slipped over her like a cowl. On the way down, she caught a glimpse of nightmarish thorns scratching at her just before her senses blacked out.

Despite all her best efforts, despite the energy she'd taken going in, she found it hard to concentrate. It seemed that, no matter how long she slept or how good she felt about a day, she would just wind up sapped and tired in her human body in short order.

In truth, it was worse than ever before.

When she'd first come out as herself, it had been like a breath of fresh air. All of the weight and stress she'd carried had melted away. Perhaps it was due to coming down from the high of her first flights, but it shouldn't have left her physically exhausted in another body on another world entirely.

So it was that when she dragged herself down to breakfast that she was faintly listless at first as Frank made eggs and bacon. She scratched idly at rashes through her sleeves, wondering if she’d been allergic to something. The spacious, smooth lines of the cabin did little to help, only serving to make her feel more isolated at the big, white table with Adam and Jeremiah across from her. They'd been talking together in quiet tones, but Light Breeze couldn't focus on what they were actually saying until she had some food in her.

A plate of eggs and hash got put in front of her, and even if they tasted of bacon grease at least it didn't have any of the actual bacon.

The mists surrounding the house rosied with sunlight as they ate. Frank, sitting at the head of the table despite its size, looked pleased with himself. Light Breeze was kind of interested to see what he would attempt for his redemption in the eyes of his children, but not especially hopeful. "Smell that morning air, boys. You don't get pine and mulberry in the city."

"Not unless you buy a candle," Adam said, earning a laugh from Frank and a lesser one from Jeremiah.

"Once we're done here, we're going to suit up and hit the lake. It's fully stocked with small mouth bass, and I'm going to show you all the different ways I know to prepare fish."

"Actually," Adam said, setting down his orange juice, "Remi and I were talking, and we were going to head out on a hike. You know - bit of exercise and prayer in God's greatest temple. He's got to think about college, and I wanted to sing him the merits of Liberty. It's been a real transformative experience for me."

Jeremiah had, over the years of being hammered for not being masculine enough, learned to hide his emotions, but Light Breeze could see through him. Openly, he nodded and smiled, but the way he poked at his eggs betrayed anxiety. She debated speaking up, but her promise to her father kept her mouth shut.

By the time the day was done, she would never see any of them again.

Frank, for his part, glowed with pride. "That's excellent, Adam. You've grown into a fine young man. Hell, I hope it can do for him what it's done for you. You were always fit, but ever since you started going there, it's like you've been a changed man."

"What can I say? I feel like the light of the Lord is shining through me." He glanced over at Light Breeze, eyes lingering for a moment, but said nothing further, taking his plate to wash.

Light Breeze might not have been able to read Adam as well as Jeremiah, but she knew he didn't really believe in God. He was too quick, his sincerity ringing like tin in her ears, but again she reminded herself that it wasn't her problem. She'd given all of them a chance to be her kin, and one and all they had belittled and demeaned her.

"Let's go, then," Frank said to her. "Grab your plate and wash up, then go get dressed in something warm. It's going to be cold as hell on the lake. I can't wait."

The icy cold that hardly bothered her in Equestria left her cheeks clammy and fingers stinging as she sat next to Frank in a boat overlooking the placid waters of the lake, the water grey beneath a steel blue sky. Mist curled hauntingly from the trees over the surface of the lake, like her growing sense of malaise had taken on physical form, and she hunched deeper into her clothes. Fishing didn't bother her so much, given that she'd gone with her family whenever they visited their grandparents at the beach, but that was as herself with people she loved.

A bucket sat by each of them, and hers was almost filled with smallmouth bass, whereas Frank's had just one.

"How are you managing to do that?" Frank finally asked in disbelief.

"The water over there is warmer," Light Breeze said, pointing to where the surface dimpled before a granite boulder. "There's water bubbling up from an underground spring that's warmer than the surrounding water. You can't fish right on it, though, because it has less oxygen, but if you imagine a ring around there, that's where the bass will congregate in this weather."

Frank frowned, following her fishing line to where it ended dead center in the dimples. "Why are you fishing there, then?"

"Because I'm tired, and I think I've fished up plenty. I'm enjoying the sky. Taking in the air."

She was also whiling away the time in the least offensive way she could imagine until Princess Luna could rescue her.

"I don't get you." Frank cast his line to the unseen ring of calmer, warmer water. "I don't really get any of my kids, frankly. Adam, at least, I know where he stands, even if he's way smarter than most people I know. Jeremiah, he's got his thing, sure, but he and I have an understanding. I don't really care what he does with his love life, no matter what you think. All I care about is that he's not, you know, making himself a target."

"No. I don't know that." She set her boot against the side of the boat, inhaling fresh mountain air and trying to taste the wind without success.

"You're going to be a young man soon, Owen. The world's a fucked up, scary place, and it doesn't treat people well for stepping out of line. The kind of lifestyle they promote on TV and the internet doesn't work for normal people. A man always has to be ready to protect himself and his loved ones."

Light Breeze bottled the urge to tell him that Owen was dead, and he wouldn't have to worry about him much longer. Her frustration must have played out on her face, because Frank cast her a look. "Do you have any idea how badly Jeremiah was bullied when he was your age? It was horrifying. I taught him how to stand up for himself, and lo and behold the bullying stopped. That shit never ends, and sometimes it gets worse when you're an adult. They kill men for acting like he did."

"Maybe being yourself is worth risking death," Light Breeze muttered, watching the ripples around Frank's line. "You've got a bite."

"What—? Hey!" Frank jolted in place and dragged on his line, planting a boot as he hauled it in.

After depositing it in his bucket, Frank turned on the boat's outboard engine and brought them back to the boathouse by the cabin. Towards the back of the boathouse, Frank set one of the bass on a counter by a sink. "Now, step over here, Owen. I'm going to show you how to clean a fish."

Without a word, Owen took the fish, washed the slime off in the sink, and took the knife from Frank's hands. To his astonishment, he neatly cut along the head to separate out the gills, sliced open the guts, removed the kidneys, and cut filets before setting it aside in a cooler.

"Jesus Christ, where did you learn to do that? Have you been watching fishing videos on YouTube or something? Did one of your friends take you fishing?"

"My dreams." The fish smelled revolting to her, but the trick was to take a deep breath between cleanings and do it in one go.

"Yeah, sure." Watching her work, Frank folded his arms and frowned. "Like I said, I don't get any of you, but you most of all."

"Then why don't you just… try and find out or something? Ask us questions, show an interest in the things we care about?" She angrily sliced open the third bass, the scent no longer quite as overpowering. "You dragged us out here because fishing is something you like to do, it's something you think men should do, so of course we should do it."

"It's not about that."

"Oh yeah?" She fished out kidneys from the red flesh with a spoon, her face flushed. "What kind of stuff am I actually interested in? Does it even matter? You probably wouldn't approve of a lot of it." She tried, hard, to keep her mouth shut, but it ran on ahead of her. "I'm not going to have a revelation where everything you say suddenly makes sense. I probably wouldn't have even if you hadn't hit me." That should have been well enough on its own, but still she found more words forcing their way up. "Why did you drag me out here if you're just going to ruin it by doing the exact same things you always have? Couldn't we have just enjoyed nature for a few days?"

Frank's face darkened, and his hands tightened. "You should be grateful. You have no idea just how badly my father would have whipped me for talking to him with that kind of disrespect."

"I thought you wanted to try to connect with me, but all you've done is justify yourself." Light Breeze tossed the fish into the cooler, her breathing heavy. “If you were really interested in making it up to me, you would have been sorry, but you're still insisting that you're right. You aren't coming down to my level to try and understand me."

"I'm your father, Owen! That's how it works." He was huge, and Light Breeze knew she was cruising dangerous waters, but her entire body was itching and sore and she could hardly think straight for her anger. "Look, I get it. You're young, and you think everyone should be equal, but that's not how any of this works. I'm your father, I know better than you, I brought you into this world, and I know what's best."

White rage ignited inside of Light Breeze at the reminder of having been born into the human world, and for a moment she could breathe free and clear, the aches across her body fading. Even so, she remembered her father's words and forced herself to shut up until she could think before speaking. "All I ever wanted out of you was for you to be there for me instead of at my throat," she said quietly. "I'm sure you're better than your dad was, but all I've ever wanted from you was for you to be there for me, to support me. You could have been my dad, but instead all you've ever done is judge me and try to put me in my place. I'm not who you think I am, and one day I'm going to be gone. When I do, I'm never going to look back."

She watched him, waiting for the blow to come. Wrapped in anger and grief, no fear could reach her.

None came, and she stood looking up at him for a while with her jaw set. Part of Light Breeze wanted Frank to say something, to admit he was wrong, to really turn a new leaf. Maybe it was the pony in her, but she actually believed he could do it, could hear the pain in her voice and change. Even if he'd hit her, even if he'd already given his best shot and whiffed, a big piece of her still hoped for reconciliation.

"You'll understand one day," he said finally with a hard, hollow voice, and gruffly took over the task of cleaning the fish. "Go back to the house. We'll eat in a bit."

It was like a line being cut. Light Breeze felt untethered, and when she looked at him again she just saw a kind of sad man approaching middle years, not the monster who had terrified her.

She opened her mouth, thinking of all the words she might say to try and reach out to him, but a weight filled her throat.

It wasn't her problem, she realized. It wasn't up to her to fix him. He had two sons, a wife, and other people who could reach him if they cared to, but she was free.

With a sense of finality, she washed her hands and left the boathouse, making her way back up the wooden pier.

As she reached the top, though, Adam came up on her side. Strong, broad-shouldered, handsome, Adam had always been the perfect son, and he towered over her. "Hey, Owen. Why don't we go for a walk?"

She looked over to where Jeremiah stood among the trees. "I dunno," she said, shying away from him and continuing towards the house. "I'm pretty tired."

"Your legs are stiff from being in the boat all morning. Come on." He put a hand to her shoulder and steered her towards the trees. "Let's work them out a bit."

Alarms rang in Light Breeze's head. She looked past the house to the road and the sky, hopeful that Princess Luna's dark and terrible form would descend on the cabin. None came, though.

Briefly, she considered bolting, but her human body was about as athletic as Silver Dust's but without the advantages four legs offered. If Adam wanted to chase her down, he could easily do so.

Without a great deal of choice in the matter, and hoping she was just over exaggerating her worry, she nodded and walked along with them. The itching started not long after, and her clarity faded with the growing aches and pains as they vanished amid the pines.

Author's Notes:

We return to Light Breeze to see how she's faring on the intended day of her rescue, but to mention the remaining time on Equestria. Of course, we don't have a clear idea of when she'll be rescued, and I don't directly give away when Selene returned (though it was before Light Breeze woke up, certainly.)

I actually know pretty well how and why the interlocking time frames work, and what factors affect when and how Selene enters the streams, but I decided against a scene explaining them because it would have been, frankly, pretty tedious.

Poor Light Breeze and her confused heart. She's crushing hard on a lot of people and at least one of them she knows she's going to have to leave behind.

And what's going to happen between Light Breeze and her human brothers?!

Find out next time!

Oh, and comment below.

Chapter 12 - Prey

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Normally, when presented with a puzzle, Selene approached it as another mare might a vacation. Fascinating problems, be they word games or mechanical contraptions, gave her the opportunity to work through something difficult and yet rewarded her personal sense of order and stability. Given the opportunity, she might quite enjoy the diversions offered by the video games Moira had introduced her to, and she looked forward to a time when she had helped shepherd the human Earth into a stable enough condition that she could tackle its many strange and beautiful wonders, while at the same time introducing her own.

Regrettably, however, when the puzzle was a broken down truck on the side of the road, certain frustrations crept in that spoiled whatever enjoyment she might otherwise have derived.

They stood on the side of a densely tree-lined road, and even there, nestled between mountains that arched like the rounded backs of sleeping giants, the air pricked her keen nose with the sting of pollutants. Moira’s noble chariot rested with its hood open beneath her gaze, and all the while she poured over its workings, she could hear the ticking of an imaginary clock.

Moira stood in the bed to get a signal, her ear pressed to her phone as she sought roadside assistance, but somehow Selene didn’t imagine that would arrive swiftly. It wasn’t as if the mechanics of this world could send a team of pegasi out to the middle of a national forest on a moment’s notice, and the only airship she had witnessed had been a gaudy blimp splashed with commercial art. If she could but spread her own wings and fly, she would have had Moira on her back already so they could continue their search.

Not that, of course, their journey had been all that productive so far. The Poconos were dotted with cabins of all sorts, and even ruling out all that possessed neither lakes nor what was defined localled as neo-modern architecture, that left quite a few to review. It didn’t take them long to rule them out—all Selene had to do was show up and scent the air to know that Light Breeze hadn’t passed through—but every false lead meant tens of minutes lost.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Lady Selene,” Luna the Witch offered, her equine form reflected with her hooves propped up on the hood where Selene’s hands were. “I’m a wretch when it comes to mechanics.” The sight made her fingers ache terribly, a reminder that both of their souls poorly matched their present flesh.

“Pay it no heed, child.” Selene pulled her hair back and deftly tucked it into a ponytail. Despise them or no, her adroitness with hands had increased substantially. “Without you, none of this would have been possible.”

The truck shook faintly as Moira’s slender form clambered off, and the gravel beside the road crunched as she joined her. “There’s a tow truck that’ll be coming. Could be a half hour, maybe more. If it’s just a bad battery or something easy to fix, we could be on the road in another fifteen. Otherwise, we may need to hitchhike or something. I couldn’t find an Uber up here to save my life.”

“It may come to saving a life,” Selene said grimly, her eyes scanning along the battery. Resting her fingertips against it, she felt at its contours. Like an eager puppy, it sparked at her touch, as though to reassure her that it was perfectly functional. “It’s not the battery.”

“Is it going to be that urgent?” Moira asked. “I mean, I know we want to find her as soon as possible, but is she in imminent danger? We’ve already been out here for several hours, and she’s supposed to be out for a few days, right?”

“Normally? I would agree with you, but a sense of urgency has burrowed its way into my heart. The moment the engine suddenly stopped, my heart dropped, and I felt as though a shadow had passed over us. It was like being stopped in the middle of a race and seeing your opponents blast by you, and I’ve lived to regret ignoring such sensations.”

Nodding, Moira glanced at the engine with a worried twist of her mouth. “Should I leave you alone, then? You look pretty focused, and I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Fear not. My mind is vast, and I can endure conversation without substantial lapses in concentration. Indeed, if anything, it helps to keep me on task.” Selene’s hand brushed along the belt, finding it taut, if worn. It would need replacing soon, but it hadn’t failed. “Actually, Luna, I wanted to have a word with you. I was going to wait until we rescued Light Breeze, but this is a fair moment for it.”

“Oh? What is it, Lady Selene?” Luna’s ears perked up, her long tail swishing and kicking up gravel behind her.

“When I was a filly, a young stallion or mare did not receive their adult name until they had undergone a special moment in their lives. For us, it would be gaining our marks of destiny—cutie marks, as they call them in Modern Equestrian—and being recognized as a legal adult. I was born an alicorn among alicorns, in a very different age, and the practice was abandoned sometime between my banishment and my return. My sister and I discussed reviving it when Twilight Sparkle became an alicorn, but we decided against it. However, I was contemplating what would happen when I guided the both of you to visit my world in dreams and meet with others of your kind to learn their magic from them, and since in this age I’m referred to as Luna, it struck me that it would be a little confusing.” She glanced up at the reflection for a moment, meeting her eyes. “If it would please you, child, I would be happy to revive the tradition and brand you with a new name to mark your transition into your new form.”

Luna gaped, and put a hoof to her chest. “Lady Selene… I’d be honored to receive a new name from you. Reviving old traditions is what I do, and I… I feel like we’ve become so close, that… that I’d be really, really happy to join you wherever you go. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one, and I can think of nothing more noble than learning at your hooves.”

Despite her vast age, Selene blushed and smiled, touched deep in her heart. Even Moira seemed moved, though to be fair she’d had her rough edges sanded off considerably in Selene’s presence. Folding her arms, she peered up at her, her red hair escaping from her knit cap. “What was your name when you were a little filly, Selene?”

“Oh, it was Kuensi.” Selene flushed with a hint of embarrassment. “Roughly translated, it means ‘Sweet Sleep.’ When I was but a foal, I was very shy, and spent a great deal of time sleeping and dreaming. In a way, when I found that Light Breeze had been forcing herself to sleep in this world to prolong her time dreaming on my world of Gaia, it was deeply familiar. I had a loving family, of course, but I was timid and dreamy and didn’t enjoy racing through sunlit fields like my elder sister Celestia.”

“Oh, my gods,” Moira said, a grin spreading across her face. “Sweet Sleep? That’s adorable.”

“It was,” Selene said with a sparkling little laugh. Thoughtfully, she brushed her fingers along the wires that clustered in and around the engine block. Something felt off, and she traced them. “I think, then, that I have the perfect name. Long ago, there was a vesper maiden I’d known who was near as adroit with dream magic as I. You differ from her substantially in some ways—she loathed the touch of stallions, for instance, and spent most of her time communing with nature—but like you, she loved the moon, and was drawn to me. She was my student, and I hoped dearly that she would become an alicorn like me so that I would have an eternal companion in my nightly wanderings, but unfortunately death found her before she could master her studies. Her name was Artemis, and I believe she would be deeply honored to pass it on to another.”

Stunned silence met Selene as she found a loose connector. Pulling it out, she inserted it back in again and peered at the dim reflection of Selene and at Moira. “What’s wrong? Is it an ill name?”

“N-no! It’s a wonderful name, Selene, it’s just a little surprising is all.” The young mare scuffed at the ground. “It’s just—Artemis is the name of a god from the same mythological cycle as the one Selene came from. She was the daughter of the King of the Gods who overthrew the titans, and she was the goddess of the hunt, yes, but also had responsibility for the moon, which was the domain of Selene.”

“I’m starting to wonder what authentic gods we actually have,” Moira added dryly, “and I’m worried that I won’t like the answer.”

“Even so…” Taking a deep breath, the reflection turned to face her more fully and spread her pearly wings. “Lady Selene? I’d be happy to take the name Artemis. The mare who once bore it was important to you, and I… I hope to be as important to you as she was. I have witnessed your mind in action, and I’ve seen your heart and how good and kind it is. I love and admire you in a way I never have anyone before, and I’m honored by your regard.”

“I love and admire you as well, Artemis, and I cannot wait to start your lessons in earnest.” Selene pressed a hand to Moira’s shoulder. “Go test the engine. I think I’ve resolved our problem.”

Looking pensive, Moira nodded and took her keys out, sliding into the passenger seat to turn the engine over. It rumbled and whined, but the pistons thrummed as the fuel ignited. “Hey, look at that. Let’s hear it for Selene, Princess of Fixing Stuff!”

Laughing, Selene set the hood back down and joined her, taking an alcohol-based sanitizer from the cubby in the door to wipe her hands. “More of an interest than a divine prerogative, but I appreciate your praise, child.”

Artemis curled up in the back seat as they drove off, and Moira stared out at the road as they drove off, the boles of trees blurring to either side and the bare branches scraping at the sky.

“Does aught trouble you, my child?” Selene asked as they drove, checking Artemis’s phone to see if they missed any messages along the way. It had a signal only sporadically, long enough to get them a few more addresses from Jaime and Aisha.

“No, not trouble, exactly. I was just thinking about how much life will change after all of this. I don’t think I’m getting cold feet, exactly, but I’ve been considering the weight of it all.” She spared a look for her. “I’m still committed, don’t get me wrong. I would pay the price of my soul transforming and more. It’s just that, for most of my adult life, I’ve become accustomed to being let down and disappointed by everything, whether it’s college, my job, my faith, or my loved ones. I’ve never had anyone so… constant as you, which sounds like a funny thing to accuse the spirit of a god possessing the body of your best friend of being. Part of me wonders when I’m going to wake up and find out that all of this was just a dream that will evaporate with the sun like so much dew. I’d gotten used to shaking off sincerity, I guess I’d say, because it’s always a risk. If you get invested in something, you can get hurt, you know?”

“I’m pleased to hear that you are investing in me, Moira, because I am certainly investing in you.” Selene offered her a warm smile. “You’re a fine young woman who has been unfairly treated, and seeing you grow has been a joy to me. I want to be there to see you grow further. Coming to this Earth… I came in search of a single child, but it seems I’ve gone and adopted a few more in the process. I promise, my child, I will never leave you to suffer.”

Moira swallowed heavily. “So you keep reminding me,” she said with a little hitch in her voice. “Careful, I might start to suspect you will abandon me one day.”

“By my deeds will you know me true.”

A flicker out the corner of her eye caught Selene’s attention, and she turned her head, frowning up at the sky. Black shapes rose from the trees in great numbers, and when she rolled down the window and stuck her head out, her hair flowing in the wind of their motion, she witnessed hundreds of black birds rising from the trees to the cold blue sky, their trail perpendicular to the road as they flocked to the right.

“What is it?” Artemis asked, raising her head. “Ravens?” She frowned, her tail twitching faintly as her ears half-laid back. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Yes. That’s because I do.” Selene tasted the air, and felt a whisper of Light Breeze’s passage. Ahead, a small path diverged from the road into the trees on the right. “There! Take that turn!”

The poor old truck’s brakes shrieked as Moira brought them down from highway speeds, and its tires crunched and rumbled along the side of the road, snapping a few branches that dangled too far. They flew with the birds above, and Selene’s heart pounded in her chest.

Without knowing why, she could tell that they were running out of time.

Leaves and sticks crunched under Light Breeze’s boots as she hiked behind Adam. Her eldest human brother set a pace that was difficult for her, with her shorter legs and less athletic frame, but that was well within his own capabilities. Had she the use of her pegasus body, she could have kept up their pace without breaking a sweat, but as a human she was breathing hard. Jeremiah, as much of a shut-in city boy as her body was, struggled at her side as much if not more than she did. He put his blond hair up to keep it from growing slick with sweat in his face, and Light actually felt pity for him.

Of course, neither of them seemed to be suffering in quite the way she was. The longer the day went on, the more tired and listless she felt. It reminded her of some of her mother’s many lessons and warnings about flying. If ever she felt like she was starting to fade in the middle of a long trip, she had been drilled to find or form a cloud and rest, but somehow she didn’t get the feeling Adam would tolerate anything like a break so soon into their journey.

Through brown pines and bare trees they trekked, and mud squelched beneath their boots along the game trail. Even as a human, Light Breeze’s balance was excellent, but Jeremiah slipped a few times along the way.

“Come on, Adam,” he whined, slopping at the mud on his front. “This sucks. Do we have to go so far out?”

In some ways, Jeremiah was far more delicate than Light Breeze, and she briefly imagined what he’d look like as a deer. Of all the races of Equestria, deer were among the most elusive and clannish, but she’d seen a few in Equestria, and they could rival unicorns for their snooty daintiness, sharing with them the ability to channel spells through their antlers. Not for the first time, she wondered if he might be more of a doe than a stag, but that would have required a level of intimacy and openness that she simply had no interest in sharing.

“Don’t bitch, Remi.” Adam came to a stop in a clearing marked by a great and twisted oak. It seemed dead, its branches not merely bare but broken and missing, and something about the air struck Light Breeze as faintly unwholesome. “Besides, we’re here, so you can stop moaning and chill out for a second.”

He did, bending over and breathing heavily as he massaged his aching legs. Light Breeze, determined not to show weakness in front of them, looked around the clearing with its granite stones half-covered in deep lichen. She scratched at her arms through her jacket and rubbed at the goosebumps covering her arms. In her cold weather gear, and with the hike she’d just completed, she should have been flushed and warm, but instead she felt colder than she had when they’d started, her hands clammy in their gloves and her cheeks numb. Her ears ached beneath her cap, and her breath misted in a way neither of her brothers’ did.

With his hands on his hips, Adam took a deep breath. “Man. Can you smell that?” He looked down at Light Breeze. “No, I suppose you can’t.”

“What? I can smell the air.” Light Breeze cast him an odd look. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s mountain air.”

“No, it’s not that.” He inhaled again, his nostrils flaring. “It smells like… the ocean, only when it’s not filled with piss and trash. Sea salt and seaweed, wet rocks and tidepools. That’s what I smell.”

Ice worked its way down Light Breeze’s spine. Jeremiah stood up, wiping his face. “What are you talking about, Adam? I don't smell the ocean.”

“Remi, this is what I'd been telling you about. That special club that I'm a part of at Liberty? They open the mind in a way that you wouldn't believe. It's like living without a sense of smell, and then all of a sudden you get a whiff of a good steak.”

Light Breeze was no fool. She darted for the trees as soon as Adam's back was turned, but he caught her in a few strides, dragging her back to the gnarled tree like she weighed nothing at all. “Help!” she cried, kicking her legs, and tried to bite him.

“Just relax! No one's going to hear you out here except the bugs and the birds,” Adam said, fending off her efforts and pinning her against the trunk by the shoulders. She continued to struggle, but he was just too strong. Inhaling again, he looked her over as his eyes dilated faintly. “Owen, my man, how were you hiding all of this? I knew you were a little brighter than normal, but damn. Since I came back from school, you’ve been like a bonfire, but I’ve never seen anyone as bright as you are today.”

“You're crazy!” Light Breeze felt her heart thundering in her chest. She didn’t have the slightest damned idea of what was going on, but the look in Adam’s eyes terrified her. She was used to the depression that seemed to lie overcast over the human spirit, but he had none of that. It was the look a griffon might give a trout, and it made every nerve tingle with danger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jeremiah shied a bit, his eyes wide. “Adam, Bro, are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing great, Remi. Just relax. I told you it would be a little scary, didn’t I?” He kept his eyes fixed on Light Breeze. “It’s pretty simple, really. The world’s fucked up. Everyone knows it, but I’ve got the solution, and it isn’t Jesus. I met some real interesting people over my first semester, and they taught me a few things. First, though, we’ve got to clean up here. You’re absolutely filthy with hungry shadows.” He exhaled, and it seemed as though the air misted up around them, clinging to unseen shapes.

It was like seeing double. Light Breeze’s eyes watered as she became aware that they weren’t really alone in the clearing. Hazy figures, inhuman shades, clustered about her, and her gorge rose with every nerve tensing and tingling as she realized there were cold, clammy fingers clasped to her body. They pushed through her clothes, suckered to her face, with no respect to privacy or her personal serenity. Tiny shapes like leeches clustered between them. She screamed, and the air around rippled and shimmered as though with heat that they eagerly sucked up.

Jeremiah squeaked, staring in horror at the sight, but Adam seemed to know what to expect. He concentrated on the hand that wasn’t holding her up, and a blade whisked into being. It seemed unreal, not entirely complete, but it cut through the shadows all the same as he carefully carved away like he was descaling a fish. He slashed at the largest ones, dispersing them until they darted away with hollow eyes staring at him while they slinked with eerie, unnatural grace to meld into shadows and trees. It let Light Breeze breathe a lot more easily, even if the smaller ones still clustered about her and sapped up what remained. With deliberate effort, she drew in a breath and let it out slowly, tasting the air around the clearing in a way she never could as a human before.

“You see?” he said to both of them. “It’s magic. Real fucking magic, and more of it than I’ve ever seen in one place before. My friends at school taught me how to see it, how to use it. Remi, you have no idea what you can do with this, how it feels. It’s like being a brand new person. You can perform miracles straight out of the scriptures, live young for centuries like Methusaleh. My girlfriend has been kicking around the world since the time of Columbus, and she showed me what I have to do.”

Jeremiah tore his eyes from staring about for the shadows. “Have to do? Jesus Christ, Adam. I don’t…”

“Adam,” Light Breeze gasped, “I-I know about magic, but I—”

“You be quiet, you little shit,” Adam snapped, turning a callous glare on her. As their eyes met again, she perceived with her unclouded senses a kind of hollowness behind them, just a little gap like the void. “All you’ve ever done is mock us, and now all of a sudden you think everything is going to be okay? You’re the thing that’s tearing this family apart.”

Light Breeze tried to speak again, but Adam shifted the arm holding her up, pressing on her chest and making her wheeze. “Like I was saying,” he continued. “It’s pretty simple, Remi. There are people out there, like Owen, who have more than others. Leave them alone, and they get sapped of everything in time. They just become listless husks, raving lunatics before they inevitably die of something or other. All of that precious magic goes to waste.” He placed his other hand to Owen’s face. “But there’s a trick you can do.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but then Adam inhaled sharply, his fingers digging at her skin, and teal fire ripped from her with excruciating agony, like her skin was being peeled layer-by-layer. It swirled about her older brother, sinking into him and making him shine brighter than before. Adam’s eyes fluttered, and he had to shut them for a moment, overwhelmed by the sensations. “Oh, wow.”

Light Breeze whimpered. “Jeremiah, please…” Even the leeches clinging to her still seemed a minor problem by comparison. The cold air bit harder, and her head swam. The shadows, witnessing this, slunk closer with long fingers cast beneath the grey sky, like hyenas preparing to frenzy.

“And that’s all you gotta do,” Adam said as he recovered. “Then the magic is yours.”

Remi trembled faintly, looking between the two of them with a stunned expression. “I… Adam, I don’t think I can do that.”

“Of course you can. It’s easy. Look… when has Owen ever been anything but a fucking weight on our backs, Remi? What are you going to do if he gets Dad arrested? And then what happens after that? The world’s going to hell, Remi, you know that. Climate change is going to wreck shop, and there aren’t going to be enough jobs or even food and water to go around. What, you think you’re going to get into college, find some cute boyfriend, and just go on rotting like everyone else?” He took his hand from Light Breeze’s face and gripped Jeremiah’s arm when he tried to shy away. “This is our ticket out. You have no conception of how hard it is to find a mark this bright. It’s like a fucking unicorn just dropped into our midst. With this much magic, you could do anything you wanted, be anything you wanted.”

The arm holding Light Breeze up slackened a little, and she drew in deep, careful breaths. For the first time in her human life, she felt connected to the world around her. Even with what Adam had taken and the little mites still clinging to her, she felt magic surging through her body. It wasn’t quite like being back in Equestria—she didn’t have pneuma, after all—but it was real and alive.

Desperately, she cast about for a way to save herself. Appealing to Adam’s better nature seemed futile, but Jeremiah hadn’t done whatever their elder brother had to hollow himself out yet. She turned a pleading gaze on him, silently begging him and praying that her antagonism hadn’t escalated to murderous intent.

“Adam, this is… this is fucked up. We can’t kill him!” Jeremiah put a hand to Adam’s, trying to push him off. Confronted with something so terrifying and real, it was like watching a vase fracture in slow motion. “I know he’s been a piece of shit, but… but Dad’s a real fucking asshole! You’re perfect, you’ve never had him angry at you for anything, but even when I follow his rules, I’ve gotta hide who I am from him.”

“You know that’s wrong,” Adam said, frustration growing in his tone. “Dad’s just trying to protect you, Remi. Don’t be such a fucking pussy. Trust me, once you have a drink of this, you’ll wonder why you were being so stubborn.”

“No! Oh my God, Adam, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re talking about… about killing and eating your own brother!”

Never in her life had Light Breeze felt so proud of her brother, and Adam’s distraction meant his arm had slackened another inch. Still, she couldn’t quite squeeze free, certainly not without getting his attention. Frustration and anger built up inside of her, and she tried to conjure a knife into her hand like he had, but she had no idea what she was doing.

Adam’s hand hardened around Jeremiah’s arm. “Owen’s a walking corpse anyway. He wasn’t going to survive the year with all the attention he was pulling to himself. Either the shadows were going to get him, or another like me was going to scoop him off the street. I’m not letting him walk away to be eaten by someone else, Remi, and I’m not letting you pass this chance up. Don’t worry so much about the body—we’re in the woods, and we’ll say he got lost. There won’t be a mark on him to say it was us.”

“That ain’t the fucking problem!” Jeremiah tried to jerk free, but Adam was too strong for both of them. “Let me go! I’m not going to do it!”

Seeing Adam’s expression harden as he looked over Jeremiah, a rage built up inside of her, and Light Breeze’s eyes turned white. She reached up, gripping the arm that held her. “Let, us, go!”

As she screamed the last word and shoved, a vast surge of energy crackled up from inside of her. The air sparked and burned with static as she discharged, and Adam flew back like she’d bucked him in the chest as his muscles seized up. He slammed into the ground, dazed and twitching, and Light Breeze tumbled, coughing. She stared down at her fingers for a moment, a blue spark jumping between them in a haze suggestive of hooves, and all of the remaining leeches had been scorched into oblivion.

Adam groaned, the sound turning into a growl as he started to get to his feet, his hands still twitching. “You… fucking… son of a bitch!”

Light Breeze met Jeremiah’s eyes briefly before the two of them bolted for the trail. If she’d only had her wings, she could have shaped the air and flown through away easily, but even without them she felt freer than she ever had before. Her exhaustion melted away, and even Jeremiah’s long legs couldn’t keep up with her as she darted through the trees, her feet slipping through the thick mud in a controlled fashion, then hopping from root to root with a pegasus’s sense of balance and grace.

Daring a glance back revealed Adam’s form at the clearing, stumbling still but gaining speed. When Jeremiah slipped through the muck she’d danced so adroitly through, she locked eyes with him. “It’s me he wants.”

“Owen? Wait—!”

She didn’t, darting into the thicker part of the woods that hadn’t been cleared, heading for the deepest, densest parts. Much of the forest was wide and open enough to run in, but she went where the ground sloped into hills, scattered with rocks and thick brush. Her human body was still frail and weak by comparison, but she had to trust it long enough to escape. Sure enough, she soon heard Adam crashing behind her, and didn’t dare risk looking back to see if he was gaining or falling behind. Her mother had taught her to keep her eye on the prize, and she kept hers fixed ahead, to the hill and the stream coursing through it.

Maybe she couldn’t cut through it like a fish like she might have with her wings, but she’d bet brass to gold bits she could swim a fair sight faster than Adam could run. All she had to do was survive. She’d promised her family she’d come home to them, and she intended to keep it.

When she reached the stones overlooking the swift-moving stream, though, she broke her rule and looked back. Moving with shocking, savage speed, Adam raced up the hill like a beast, clambering on all fours where two legs were insufficient. With her eyes opened, the twisted aura of her own stolen magic and others’ burned clearly across him.

Suddenly not so certain about her bet, she screwed up her courage and leapt into the current. The freezing water penetrated her clothing, but as long as she kept her pegasus magic intact it didn’t sting as much as she might have expected from her experience in her human body.

Swept away, she saw Adam perch on the stone, his gaze narrowed before he turned and sprinted off, and knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up. Eventually, the stream would empty back into the lake, assuming she survived the trip there, and the chase would begin anew.

Chapter 13 - Cord of Light and Shadow

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It was a bit of a cliche that when you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes, but even cliches contain a kernel of meaning, of truth. The rapids swept Light Breeze along, dashing her against rocks and pulling her underwater. In the grip of shock and panic, the mind can wander, and for a brief moment she understood why so many cultures told stories of the spirits living in waterways, eager to pull humans under.

But I’m not a human! she insisted to herself, fighting against the current, eyes squeezed shut against the cold, gasping for breath whenever she dared. She tried to remember the warmth of her mother’s body, even after a swim on one of the ocean’s more frigid days, the uncanny way a pegasus’s thin coat of hair was more than enough to stay warm, even in the midst of a storm.

But the magic wouldn’t come to her, and her body—her real body—felt so far away.

The current dragged her under again, and Light Breeze felt cold gnarled hands around her, tugging at her clothes, her hair, her skin. She thought for sure the dark shadows she’d seen before must also live in the water, that they’d seized hold and would finally drown her.

It’s not fair! It’s not fair, I never even got to live first… Her mind was a daze, and all she could think about was Fillydelphia, the good memories and the bad, and the future she’d planned out in her dreams, but had never come to pass.

It took her a moment to realize that the hands weren’t pulling her downward, that she’d stopped tumbling through the wake. Her lungs burned, and she fought for the surface, reaching it with the tips of her numbed fingers first, before pulling herself up the rest of the way.

She found herself pressed against the bank of the rapids, white water roiling past her. It wasn’t hands that had grabbed her, but the exposed root system of some nearby trees. Her limbs were shaking as she pulled herself up, and she found she could barely walk. The air was, if anything, even colder than the water, and it didn’t help that she was soaked down to the bone, wet clothes clinging to her woefully human form. She kicked off her shoes, at least—those were largely useless to her now. For a moment her anxieties spiked over leeches, but the more rational part of herself remembered that they probably didn’t like swift currents anymore than her human body did.

Of course, there were other kinds of leeches, as Adam had shown her, and she shuddered to imagine them clinging to her body. The possibility of those little buggers slid out of focus the more her immediate situation became clear to her. Her little trip down the river had thoroughly disoriented her, and even if she ran back to the cabin, to Frank, would it even matter? In her heart was a cold emptiness where she’d felt what little bond they shared sever.

No, Frank wouldn’t be helping her anymore, her best bet was to make for the road, any road, and hope to Celestia someone would be driving down it. Light Breeze scrambled up the bank, catching herself against the trunk of a tree with one hand before hauling herself up the rest of the way.

The exertion helped, at least a little. The energy that would have been spent shivering was instead poured into pushing herself as hard as she could. The trees were thick, but she could still feel the sunlight on her back through the wet ruin of her t-shirt, and she did her best to keep it that way, using it to orient herself and keep the forest from steering her in circles. Crashing through the undergrowth, she had to ask herself just how much noise she was making, how far away Adam might be.

Not very far at all, apparently. Up ahead there was a break in the trees, and she could see the road from where she was. Putting on as much speed as she could manage, she didn’t even see or hear the older boy before he was slamming into her side, something Adam must have done a thousand times on the football field. She definitely couldn’t fault his form after being pulverized into the forest floor, her head knocked painfully against the roots of an old tree.

“Owen!” he hissed through his teeth. “You had me worried sick, falling into the river like that! You’re way too valuable to go and freeze to death. Here, let me help you get warm.”

Adam’s weight was more than enough to pin Owen down on its own, and the older boy shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over Light Breeze’s dazed and crumpled body.

“Stop…” Light Breeze hissed through her teeth. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Adam had to speak around his breaths by now, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His muscles were taut with adrenaline, and the way he looked at Light made her feel like something hanging in a butcher’s storefront window. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured, rising to his feet with hands pressed to Light’s arms. “Not before my friends get here, anyway. We’re going to meet them now.”

As soon as Adam’s weight shifted, Light Breeze bolted, slipping from his hands like a fish in a stream. Adam cried out in surprise and reached out. For a moment in time, one blissful sliver of a second, Light Breeze believed she was free, that she was out of his grip and ready to make a run for it through the trees.

But that moment was cut short when Adam’s grip tightened around the back of her collar, and he yanked back. The wet fabric didn’t tear easily, and that just made it worse when her older brother tugged it back against her throat. Mingled with her choked surprise was a loud tearing sound that seemed to fill the clearing, and Light Breeze tumbled back from the force of it, sprawling out in the dirt and weeds.

The collar of her shirt was long and stretched out, and the rest of it rested on her shoulders like a deflated tent. Somehow, of everything she’d seen, Frank’s red-eyed desperation, Remi’s fearful dismissals, or her human mother’s deliberate detachment, the very worst thing about her situation had to be just how calm about all of this Adam was. For anyone else in her family, the violence would have awoken something in them, fear or rage, but for Adam this was all old hat, as if he’d done this sort of thing before—like it was normal.

“Dunno why you always said you were bad at sports,” Adam said, kicking her in the side hard enough to make her wince. “You’re a slippery little eel, with the right coach you could have been a good running back, or whatever sport you wanted, really.” Adam crouched down, looming over her like a shadow, and for a moment Light Breeze saw behind those eyes to a soul hollowed out and empty, as if its insides had been scooped out like ice cream.

“But it was never about sports, was it? It’s this world, what it does to people like you. Feels… wrong.” He spoke the last word in a gravely, hungry voice, distorted from its ordinary human tones. “Not like me,” he whispered, sliding closer on his knees. “I had no idea what a joke everything was until she showed me the truth.”

Light Breeze had no idea what to say, massaging her neck where the collar had slammed into her windpipe, the skin was red and raw, and her ears were filled with tears. Even if she could speak in that moment, what would she say? How could anyone say so much that made sense, in so wrong a fashion?

“My friends can wait,” Adam sighed. “I just need a taste, something to keep me going—the wolf that brings the prey down gets first bite, anyway. Shira always says…”

Light Breeze readied to bolt again, but before she could, Adam’s hands came down on her wrists again, and before she could respond he was on top of her. Where his skin made contact with hers, there was a prickling feeling, a bit like touching one of those old plasma globes, but it picked up in strength and intensity, passing through her body like electrical current. She could feel it lighting up her nervous system, penetrating into each and every cell. Her mind wandered back to her lessons in Equestria, the magical component of a cell—the Pneuma. It was so much more than that, her unicorn brother would explain, but… humans don’t have those, do not have that.

Her body could certainly stand to hear that lecture, because in that moment, every cell Adam touched burned with agony, and she could feel something flowing out of it, out of her. Deep breaths escaped her mouth, and the air carried on it shimmered and shined, glowing like magic from the spiral of a unicorn’s horn. Adam inhaled, sucking in every bit of magic he could, light and color returning to his eyes and his skin.

“Hoowah…” he sighed, eyes fluttering in disbelief. “Can’t believe I ever humored adding you to the club… this is pure, unfiltered…”

Another wave of fire passed through her, and Light Breeze screamed, her voice echoing through the forest, the rush of air from her lungs only seemed to help the magic flood out of her more quickly, and Adam almost seemed to be exerting himself just to keep up. His hands moved up along her arms whenever the breath of pneuma seemed weaker, more faint, and after a few moments he was clamped on as tight as a boa constrictor.

It’s not that magic—pneuma—was finite, far from it. Based on what she’d been taught, it was the most inexhaustible force in the universe, any universe. The real issue, as countless unicorns had learned, raising the sun and moon over the centuries, was channeling it in moderation, to avoid frying out every circuit in your body. With every breath, Light Breeze could feel Adam ripping the magic from her body, and in response every cell fired all pistons, her body was going to give out long before the magic ever did.

Still, Adam didn’t stop. Even though it was in his best interests, he seemed barely aware, barely sapient, a slathering wolf desperate to consume as much of her as he could manage. Something was going to give, and with every passing second, Light Breeze knew it was going to be her.

Time stretched and distorted, a familiar feeling for her, being ripped about from one universe to the next, spending days in one and hours in another. Why bother trying to make sense of it? Time was relative, and in a moment like this, it felt like the least important thing by miles. And, yet, it was all she could think about, counting her breaths as every second in the world seemed to slow down, to pass her by, as if time warped around her, as though everyone else in the world continued about their daily routines while for her, time slowed to a stop.

Her muscles spasmed, her tendons were clenched so tight she thought they’d snap, and in that moment, something in Light Breeze did give, just not how she expected.

Adam’s eagerness gave way to surprise, and his grip on her eased, but he didn’t pull back in time. Feeding back into him, electric current ripped through his body, sending him sailing across the clearing and against the trunk of a tree. In a rush of magic and a flurry of energy, Light Breeze could feel her body shift and change, her pants tearing from expansion of her hips, hands and feet like rigid claws shimmering as every digit seemed to bleed into one, capped with strong sturdy hooves. What remained of her clothing burned away in response to the outpouring of magic, and wings stretched to the sky, before her entire body shuddered and gave out under her, forcing her to the ground, barely able to open her eyes.

Light Breeze couldn’t see much, but realization slowly dawned—she’d changed, and for a moment she half-believed she was back in Equestria.

“What the hell is this?” Adam groaned, rising to his feet and cradling his arm, it was bent at an odd angle, but he popped something back into place with a grimace, making his way over. He didn’t seem any more interested in moving it after the fact, though.

“... Owen?” he called with a brow raised. “... that you in there?”

Light Breeze struggled to stand, to run—or even fly—once she took to the sky there would be no way for Adam to catch her, but her body stubbornly disagreed, too tired, too fried. Magic brimmed, overflowing, just beneath the surface, and when push came to shove her body had apparently decided it would be easier to keep up with Adam’s advances as a pegasus, rather than a human boy.

“Just wait until the rest of the gang gets a load of you.” Adam smiled. He didn’t reach out and touch Light again, but the hunger was still there.

Falling back against a tree at Light Breeze’s side, Adam pulled out his phone and read through some messages. How he was still able to get a signal out here was beyond Light Breeze’s comprehension, but maybe it was just part of his gang’s depraved dark magic. Her wings flared and flapped uselessly, like a bird mired in a lake or pond, and Adam stilled her with a hand.

“Shhh… just twenty minutes now, give or take.” His grin widened. “You’re going to like Shira, she has a ranch—plenty of room to run around in once we take care of those wings.”

Light Breeze opened her mouth to scream, but only slurred whimpers came out.

“There’s just so much about the world they don’t tell us, you know?” Adam said, settling down with his back against a tree. “You’re a… pegasus, I suppose. And I’m a, what, human?” Adam tossed a stone, listening for it tumble down the slope of the hill. “And what even is that? Norse peoples said the first humans were made out of wood, the Mayans think we’re corn, and the Greeks say we’re made of clay.” He fidgeted a little before continuing. “Our ancestors were right about one thing, at least: the world was born in fire and ice, in blood and bone. None of this ‘God made the heavens and the earth in seven days’ schlock. Chaos, that’s what the world is. You and me are living proof of that.”

Adam turned in place, meeting Light Breeze’s eyes. “I’m not your enemy, you understand? I’m just asking you to share—redistribute things a little.” He paused as if waiting for a response, and when none came, his lips tightened. “You hanging in there, Owen?” Another beat passed between them, and he scowled. “Don’t bother playing the malevolent transmogrification card, you and I both know this is the real you. So you can cut the ‘I’m in shock!’ routine any minute now.

For the past several minutes, Light Breeze’s ears had been swiveling and focusing on every little sound with what amounted to a mind of their own, but now both of them perked up, rising high on her head. With a groan, she managed to lift her head, craning her neck.

“See, that’s more like it. Maybe now we can have an actual—” but Adam trailed off once he noticed the sounds, too “—conversation.”

The road wasn’t far, Light Breeze could just make it out through the trees, if she squinted. Admittedly, pegasus eyes helped, but she could make out a brick red truck with an off-black cap covering the bed. Not far off from the clearing itself, a tall Black woman moved gracefully through the underbrush, followed closely by a smaller, paler woman with bright freckles and red hair.

“You’re sure this is the right way?” The smaller woman asked, her voice carrying through the trees. “We’re getting pretty far from the road, and I don’t see…”

The black woman looked recognizable—Jaime and Aisha’s cousin? But Light Breeze had never seen the other woman before in her life. Together, they stepped into the clearing, and the witch crossed her arms.

“Witness it for yourself, and draw your own conclusions, Child.” Luna’s voice seemed deeper than usual, and elegant in a way she’d never been herself.

“... Princess?” Light Breeze rasped, stretching a hoof out toward her. “He...hel…”

Adam looked between Light Breeze and the newcomers, while Moira stared in shocked fascination. With each passing moment, he seemed more and more put off by the slowly reversing nature of the situation.

“Now hold on,” he growled, rising to his feet. “I found her first, so I have first dibs, Shira and the rest of my gang will be here any minute, and you don’t—”

But he didn’t get to finish his thought, because Moira was already racing forward, wrapping her arms around the filly’s neck. “Oh my fucking gods! She’s a little darling!”

Adam bristled, but Luna commanded his attention, turning his gaze away from his prey, and the fawning older woman.

“Our subject appears to be in a great deal of distress,” she spoke, carrying the air of a disappointed queen. “You will explain how she has come to be that way.”

Adam instinctively reached behind himself, fumbling for a gun or knife, but, given the circumstances, he’d come to his father’s little camping trip unarmed. Cursing under his breath, he shrugged his shoulders, and smiled as best he could. Right now, his nerves were electric with magic, and he’d never been this full before in his life—why was he so afraid of this woman? He still had control of the situation.

“You mean, how did I stumble upon a pegasus in the middle of nowhere?” he asked, deflecting her question. “There’s not much to it, really, but I’ll tell you everything I know.” Reaching out his hand, as if offering her to take it, he smiled. “You just have to let me in.”

If Luna noticed the magic at work, she made no sign of it, and Adam pushed forward, extending himself beyond his eyes, beyond his body. Shira had taught him all about entering another person’s mind, experiencing their thoughts, guiding them along by suggestion—in a few moments, he’d have the taller woman eating out of his palm, and the smaller witch would be easy prey.

But what he found beyond his body is not what he was expecting, at all. Silhouetted against the witch’s body was a dark blue specter, a mare much like Owen, but vastly larger in size. From her crown spiraled a horn, matching her gleaming coat, and her mane flowed around her in the breeze, tiny constellations swirling around her. From around her side, a smaller mare poked out her face and frowned, fangs peeking out over her lips.

“I think you’ll find this vessel is a bit crowded at the moment.” Artemis glared, eyes shining in the half-light of the dense forest. The rushing stream behind them seemed to accentuate her words, illustrating to Adam just how quickly control of the situation was flowing away from him.

“However, invitations such as these go both ways. If your master failed to teach you this, then they have done you a grave disservice.” The mare—the goddess—was speaking now, and Adam could not pry his eyes away from her. There’s no chance anyone in his gang could consume the amount of magic radiating from her being, their bodies would simply break down. With a breath, she stepped free from Artemis’s body and brushed past him. “I will have the answers I seek, one way or another.

Before Adam could even respond, he felt awareness of the world around him falling away, and his very being tumbled with the violent shifting of events around him, it was like being drugged, like collapsing into a drunken heap for the first time. It was like having everything that made him “him” violently ripped out of his hands. He could only look on in horror, as though from a great distance, as his body picked itself back up, dusted itself off, and calmly spoke, “We must move with purpose now, my student. This boy’s threat was not idle.”

Boy? Boy? No one had referred to him so dismissively in years. Adam opened his mouth to speak, to rage, to lash out in every way he could, physically or magically, but the mare inhabiting his body only turned, meeting his eyes. In place of brown, they were a brilliant turquoise blue, like a crystal clear ocean at midday. The current carrying Adam away intensified, until all he could see was inky blackness.

“Christ on a cracker you’re heavy,” Moira grunted, one arm wrapped around Light Breeze’s barrel to help support her weight. Luckily, enough time had passed that Light could speak again, and eventually she managed to get her legs under herself. She eyed Adam dubiously, but the older boy carried himself with a completely different bearing, and his eyes were not his own.

“Sorry…” She cried softly, feeling overwhelmed. “I’m sorry…”

The road was close now, and Moira eased her down so she could lower the tailgate and raise a section of the cap to offer more space to climb up. “Adam” climbed up into the bed of the truck first, and stretched out his arms to help—even compared to how he was before, the boy was wickedly strong.

Luna, she reminded herself. That’s Luna right now.

Sucking in a deep breath, Light Breeze prepared to pull herself up into the truck bed, but stopped when Moira wrapped her arms around her tightly.

“Hold up,” Moira ordered, combing a hand through the soft hairs of her coat. She brushed it back and forth along the width of her neck, and if Light’s knees weren’t capable of locking in place, she’d probably have teetered over.

“What is it?” Artemis frowned, nursing what appeared to be a massive headache, coming up from behind. “Did you see something?”

“Maybe,” Moira frowned. “Selene, can you look this over for me?”

“I am presently engaged,” Adam replied with a royal cadance. “But, help the filly up, and I will take a look.”

Working together, Artemis, Moira, and Selene managed to hoist the young filly up into the hold of the truck, the chassis sagging under her weight, before rising back up, rocking in place.

After a few moments of combing through, Selene pursed her lips, or rather, Adam’s lips. “I don’t see any…”

There, half hidden by hair and dug into the skin of the filly’s neck, was a shadowy black cord, sticky like spider silk.

“Oh my gods,” Moira whispered while Light Breeze shifted about, struggling to see for herself.

“What is it?” the filly whimpered, feeling increasingly anxious. “Did you find something?”

“We did.” Selene brushed her side in an attempt to reassure her. Knowing it was the princess and seeing her brother proved to be two separate things, though, and Light Breeze reflexively recoiled from her touch. Frowning, Selene pulled her hand back and settled in against the opposite wall of the truck bed. “I’m beginning to understand what might be keeping you here in the first place.” The princess wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably, and closed her eyes. “For now, get some rest, we have a long drive ahead of us. “Artemis, Moira? It is now more important than ever that we transport my subject to a warded location.”

Moira nodded eagerly, but Artemis was still wrestling with the whiplash of being ridden and the goddess’s subsequent sudden departure.

Light Breeze lowered her ears as the tailgate went up and hatch went down, wishing that she could just have a few minutes of peace, time to revel in being free of her awful human body. “Princess? Everything is okay, right?”

Shifting in place, all Light Breeze could see of the princess in the dark was her eyes, which shined their old familiar color, that at least was comforting.

“It will be,” she replied. “Now, rest.”

“Do not ignore me!” Adam shouted, wrestling in the darkness. In here, in dreams, his form was inconstant, shifting back and forth between all the various forms of people he’d… “known” in the past. Right now, his hair was long, strawberry blonde, and he wore the face of a girl who was all too familiar to him. They’d been dating when he met Shira, and part of his initiation had been leading her to them, like a lamb to the slaughter.

But gods, the first taste of magic he took from her had made it all worth it. Now he raged with her voice, her features shifting to that of a quiet man they’d ambushed on the street a few months later.

“You can’t keep me here forever…” he whimpered. It’d been years since he’d had a single, solitary dream—but that was normal, everybody said so.

“I am not ignoring you,” a woman’s voice echoed from the deep. The goddess of the moon stepped from the shadows, towering over him here. “And I have no intention of doing so. You are of the darkness now, Adam Hall, and the darkness is my domain.”

That gave Adam some pause, and his wildly fluctuating form halted while terror seized him, he knew what he had done to others, and the prospect of a “god” visiting the same on him…

“Be at peace, those days are far behind me.” She pressed forward, her nose to his cheek. “They can be behind you as well, if you wish it to be so.”

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” he warbled. “I need magic, you don’t. You can’t possibly understand!”

Luna pulled away, a look of sadness in her eyes. “No, Adam, it is you who does not understand. You are a victim of this world as much as Light Breeze—as much as Owen, your father, everyone—and I will not let you or any of them go, ever.” She lingered, body framed by the darkness. “I can be… quite a bit more aggressive than my sister when it comes to rehabilitation. But, then, she never understood the stakes quite so well as I.”

Adam listened for her, searched for her presence with wary eyes, but now he was alone, and in that moment, he realized with terror his one burning wish—that she’d come back, because even having her here to rage against was better than being alone.

How had he lost control so thoroughly? How could this have happened to him? It was Owen, had to be. This was all his fault.

Shira would come looking for him, except… no, no she wouldn’t. He understood that better than most. If he was gone, that meant he’d been captured, and that meant he was a liability. Whatever she and the others were doing now, it wouldn’t be planning a rescue. More likely they’d be moving shop across the country, ditching apartments and luxury lofts for RVs and trailers.

In the darkness of what remained of his own dreams, Adam hugged himself tightly, and wept for all that he had lost.

Chapter 14 - The Crack in the World

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Light Breeze wished dearly that she could sleep on the ride back to Philadelphia, to seek shelter in an Equestrian day from the ordeal Adam had put her through and revel in the feeling of her own body, but if anything the experience had made her far too wired. The back of a truck was a uniquely horrible place to try and dream, too, and while the whistling of the wind through the sheet was comforting, the hard, cold, bouncy bed most certainly wasn't.

Then, too, Princess Luna's concerns lingered in her mind, as did Adam's cold face as he calmly described cutting off her wings and keeping her as a farm animal, and the fact that the two blurred together with her possession of him did not help her fulfill her last command to rest terribly well. Even attempting it felt like a heroically doomed effort, with her eyes shut and her body stretched out.

It felt good, though, to be herself again, to be strong and flush with magic. With her wings lifted just so, she could feel the air pass beneath them as they drove, and become aware of how it curved around the truck as her senses expanded. The knowledge that, even if she remained in the human world, she would never again have to feel like a boy, never splay her fingers, and never be without her magnificent wings comforted her more than anything, though, even if she feared what humanity would do to her if they found out.

Of course, if her experience with Adam was to be any kind of judge, it suggested strongly she'd not long survive public exposure.

For hours they rode south, the air growing less palatable and denser by the mile. From time to time, Light Breeze tried to reach into her mane to find whatever the princess had seen only to encounter something that defied her capacity to form words for, eliciting a shudder throughout her entire body each time. Deciding to leave it to the professionals, she laid her chin down on a set of folded up pads and tried to count clouds in her head.

When the truck rattled to its final stop, Light Breeze tensed, flinching despite herself. Alone in the back for so long, she couldn't quite escape the dark and clutching concern that maybe something had gone wrong. Yet, her swiveling ears suggested that the others were unhurried, their shoes thumping on the pavement after shutting the doors.

When Adam poked his head in, she had to suck in a terrified breath, but his manner was not his own. "Be still, Light Breeze. Much as I am loath to deny you the sky, we will need to cover you with this tarp to get you inside. Can you move?"

"O-of course, Princess. I can." She looked anywhere but at their face. "Thank you for coming for me. I know we just spoke a little while ago, but it's felt like an eternity."

"Pain has a way of destroying time, I've found," she said in his stolen voice as she pulled on a cord. "It is quite magical that way, in the vilest manner."

Working together, Princess Luna and the petite woman undid the tarp and draped it over her like the world's largest, most unfortunate sheet ghost dog. It couldn't muffle her hooves against the pavement as she walked up to the door, but she'd read once that people would accept a plausible excuse for anything given half a chance.

Even just the sound of her hooves, the feel of them ringing in her ears again, filled her with a fierce joy that melted away some of her lingering fear and pain.

The petite woman - Moira, she assumed - slid the tarp free in a dingy apartment, but Light Breeze had little time to study it before a pair of dark blurs crashed into her, hugging her neck. "Oh my stars." Tears blurred her vision as she wrapped teal wings and white hooves around Jaime and Aisha. "I was starting to think I'd never see you guys again."

It astonished her, though of course it really shouldn't have, how different they looked from her new perspective. If they had both stretched out on the carpet, her Owen body would have been shorter and smaller than her Light Breeze body, but not significantly. Where in the USA she was scrawny and weak, in Equestria she was one of the tallest and most athletic fillies in her class. But for her horizontal posture, she'd have overtopped both of them, and her long neck made up for a lot of it. Her tail just wouldn't stop whisking as she nuzzled both of their cheeks and necks.

"Oh my gods," Aisha said, gigging and pushing her head back. "Light Breeze… you drew us pictures, girl, but I never imagined you were this precious." She brushed a hand over her wing with quiet awe. "I want some of these. They're beautiful."

"So I've been told." Light Breeze snuffed up a load of snot, choking through tears. "Apparently, I inspire protective instincts in at least some humans."

"I'll say." Jaime laughed, stroking her neck. "You're cute enough to die for. I'm so happy for you, Light Breeze, legit."

Light Breeze laughed nervously as her ears and cheeks burned red through her coat.

"Let me through! Don't hog her." Aisha moved, but only to accommodate Tim, who wrapped his arms about her with no less enthusiasm than the rest. "I'm so glad you're safe. We were all worried so sick that Jaime threw up."

"I so didn't!"

Laughter bubbled up in Light Breeze only to be choked with tears as her great wings expanded to cover the three of them entirely, hugging them close. "I love you guys," she croaked.

"We love you, too, Light," Aisha murmured, cheek pressed against her neck and fingers digging into her coat. They lingered that way for a long time, rendered somehow shameless of sincere feeling by the miracle of her transformation.

Tim was the first to break the circle, though less from reluctance and more because he spotted Princess Luna approaching. Though wary of the young man, with his pupils contracting just a hair, he stepped forward to greet her after rubbing his face and eyes. "Lady Selene, is that really you?"

"Yes. I need to hold onto Adam for a bit. I'll put him in a coma for a time when I need to return home but, until this matter is resolved and I can secure his cooperation, I really shouldn't let him out of my sight."

"Selene?" Light Breeze's ears swiveled up. Sniffing. She rubbed her nose and eyes.

"It's what we call her, Light," Jaime supplied, "on account of how she was possessing our cousin Luna."

"It's Artemis, now." The woman in question lifted her hands to examine the fingers with a wince and a shudder Light Breeze found all too familiar before grabbing a sharpie and going to the window. "I've barely had ten minutes to myself since this started except to sleep. It feels… strange, now."

Princess Luna crouched down, and Light Breeze had to fight off all manner of flinching to meet her gaze. "I wanted you to have a chance to speak with your friends. This may be your last opportunity to do so in the flesh. Should all go well, we'll be able to bring your spirit back to speak with them in dreams or vice versa."

Their eyes widened. Breathlessly, Light Breeze asked, "Does this mean you're taking me home?"

"Yes… and no. I have at last unraveled the mystery of what keeps you here, my child, and with that knowledge comes the power to take you home. First, though, we must face grave danger, and for that I must command all human children to depart after saying their goodbyes."

"What?" Aisha snapped her head around, braids flying. They all objected more or less on top of one another.

"No way in hell am I leaving her side." Jaime tightened his arms about her neck. "You can't make me."

"Princess Selene!" Tim protested, and his transformation struck her the hardest. "We can't leave her in danger! Not after everything we've been through." As though his cynicism had withered like river ice in spring, he spoke without irony.

Despite their protests, Light Breeze concurred with Princess Luna. The very last thing she wanted was to put them in harm's way, not that she had any comprehension of whatever harm might be on the way, and she opened her mouth to say so.

Her heart stopped her, though, and tightened her wings regardless of what her brain might have thought. Leaning her head in against Jaime, she nickered softly, feeling stronger than ever. "They say friendship is magic where we're from, Princess. Would it be too risky for me to spend a little more time with them?"

Princess Luna let out a little sigh. "I need to ward the apartment right now, so you can stay with her long enough for me to finish and explain what's going on. Please take her into the bedroom at the end of the hall, where she can get some rest, as it's already the most protected place."

While Light Breeze let them guide her through the tiny apartment, Princess Luna set to drawing opligraphs - letters made with markings as though from the edges or tips of hooves - on the door and exhaling on them. A soft tingle brushed her as the magic in the air changed, adding to a faint charge that seemed to linger like an agitated cloud.

"If she thinks we're going anywhere, she's lost it." Aisha turned to her as they entered a bedroom layered in years of incense scent. "What happened out there, though, Light Breeze? How did you get back to normal? Why is Lady Selene riding your brother?"

Light Breeze's already fragile confidence cracked under her questions, and she flopped up onto the bed and shuddered. Adam's terrible touch lingered on her skin like morning frost that showed no sign of thaw. "Those facts are intimately related. Adam tried to… eat me. I never imagined anything like it, but he was a monster, like… like a changeling. I wrote about those in my journals, right?"

Jaime sat next to her and draped a knit blanket over her back when he saw her shiver. She wanted her wings free, but she couldn't deny that the gesture did a great deal to still her shuddering muscles. "You did, yeah. Pony-like bugs who eat love, right?"

"That's them. I've never faced one, and, if it's anything like what he did to me, I never want to." She laid her wings flat on the bed and exhaled, stretching her hooves out to remind herself that they were there. "He tried to eat my magic, my soul. I don't really know why I changed, but I know it didn't make me feel any less helpless. If anything, he just got more eager to eat me. There wasn't a damned thing I could have done to protect myself if it weren't for Princess Luna."

Aisha pulled her head into her lap and sighed, stroking her neck. "That's fucked up."

"I'm glad I'm me, though." Light Breeze's eyes shut against her touch as she leaned in. "Guys, I think you should go. I know I said that thing about friendship being magic, but I love you guys, and I can have that from afar. If what has the princess so worried is worse than my brother, worse enough that a three-thousand year old goddess is concerned for our safety, then we're all just candles in the wind." Her wings twitched under the blanket, longing for the open sky. "If anything happened to you guys, I would be devastated."

"If anything happened to you, we'd be devastated." Tim on the edge of the chair next to the vanity, a brush thick with black hairs next to him. "Imagine if you died, and we never saw you again? Died right on the verge of getting free, Light Breeze. That's a kind of cruelty the universe is too good at handing out for my liking."

"If I died, Princess Luna would-" Her words caught in her throat. Normally, she would have said that the princess would catch her soul and deliver it to be reborn, but of course she knew that wouldn't work this time. Nervously, she pawed a hoof at her perpetually missed mane. "Question, do any of you see something in my hair?"

Their replies chorused in the negative, and even attempting to get near whatever it was left her extremities numb as a powerful shudder ate up her nerves.

"Don't change the subject," Aisha chided. "We aren't going anywhere, and Lady Selene can't make us."

Hesitating, Tim gripped the edge of the stool. "I dunno, Aisha. I mean, I wouldn't be happy about it, but we should respect her wishes, right? I don't want to anger the first goddess I really cared about. We don't even know what we're facing, so how do we know we're not just going to get in the way?"

"You will be getting in the way." Adam's frame filled the doorway, his eyes filled with a kind of regal composure tempered with compassion that never graced them in his normal life. "Children… I understand keenly your desire to fight alongside Light Breeze no matter what threats may come, but you must believe me when I say that this threat in particular is beyond you. Even if you three possessed the magic which you have been unjustly denied, I would consider the benefits of your cooperation insufficient against the risks incurred."

Pushing up on her forelegs, Light Breeze shook off the blanket to free her wings. "What is it, Princess Luna? You said you'd solved the mystery of how I got here, but what is it?" Aisha and Jaime both made protective noises and held her tight, as though afraid that if they let go, she would fly away.

Stepping more fully into the room, Princess Luna stepped once to the window and started reinforcing the existing markings. "In truth, children, this is not a topic I enjoy discussing. It strikes rather close to home. Did you three read in Light Breeze's journals about my long imprisonment?"

"I did," Aisha said. "Your sister imprisoned you in the moon for one thousand years for trying to, uh, make night last forever, right? Seems a little, uh… extreme, I have to admit."

"It's a long story." Adam's voice was pensive, even distant, with ancient pain. "The contemporary version of it is a truncated telling of a story that only my sister would have the full knowing of. Equestria in those days was a great deal like yours, actually, albeit not deprived of magic. Can you believe my sister and I had to shout at the top of our lungs just to be taken seriously half the time?" She shook her head, marker squeaking on the glass. "I've only told a few people this before, but you deserve to know: part of the reason was because my sister and I had agreed to hold off having foals of our own until most of the threats facing us had died. She put me off for decades, centuries, and that was only one of many slights that curdled my heart.

"In those times, there were creatures that lurked in our dream world, parasites that sup on pneuma and drain what makes things special. The most powerful of them were what one might call demons."

Her gaze settled on Light Breeze. "Demons are… well, there is no good way to explain them except in general terms. They're unclean spirits of varying origins that lurk in the depths of the dream world and the abyss between worlds. They hunger for the light of magic that is cultivated within universes like ours and seek to devour them. Some are destructive raveners that would break worlds and feast on the rinds like locusts that strip bare fields, while others are cunning and subtle. I let one into my heart with my bitterness and my anger, and I became a monster that threatened the entire world. A unicorn named Sombra in a neighboring kingdom did, too, and he ended a civilization. I believe one of these captured your soul, Light Breeze, and they've kept up on a leash ever since you were born."

"Me?" Light Breeze sat up, her wings draped at her sides. "But… why? Was I just a convenient target?"

"Actually?" Selene sat next to her, resting a palm against her withers. "You have some of the strongest magic I've seen in a pegasus. Not on par with Rainbow Dash, perhaps, but you're young yet. Once free of this nightmare and no longer sapped, you could have a very promising future with proper training."

"I think I'd rather rest for a few years and enjoy my life," Light Breeze murmured. "I've never really been able to."

"So…" Jaime glanced between them worriedly. "That demon, whatever it is, it won't take kindly to us trying to free Light Breeze, would it?"

"No, and I suspect it already knows that something is wrong. It will come for her, and if it came to it they would surely rather devour her whole than let her free." Her gaze turned hard. "And that is why you must all leave. It will be difficult enough for me to battle a powerful demon without my divine form - the more of you who are present, the more effort I have to devote to protecting you. All you can do at this point is be a burden if you remain. Perhaps if I understood human magic, I might be able to teach you how to help Light Breeze defend herself, but the native magic of your people is still heavily suppressed and ill known to me."

Aisha's features took on the stubborn set that said she would fight God before backing down, but Light Breeze caught her sleeve in her teeth and dragged her around to look into her eyes. "Aisha? No. Please - I can't have anything bad happen to you guys."

Her face darkened, but Jaime took her arm. "Sis…? I think we should listen to her."

"What? Jaime!"

He shook his head firmly. "Lady Selene is right. We can't fight. There's nothing we can do except get out of the way."

"That's not fair!"

"It isn't." Selene touched Aisha's arm. Even in Adam's body, her eyes held such a depth of soul that even Aisha cracked. Slumping her shoulders, she nodded. "There is something you can do, though."

"What's that, Lady Selene?" Tim asked, hands firmly in his lap.

"You recall reading about the magic of friendship, yes?" A smile touched her face. "Laughter, honesty, generosity, loyalty, kindness, and friendship are the elements of magic. In my original tongue, it went more like 'by the divine grace of joy, faith, altruism, honor, compassion, and love are the bonds of fellowship sacrosanct,' but I admit the newer version has a charming simplicity about it. It may sound trite to your ears, but the love you share for one another is a kind of magic, and one that is especially powerful against the likes of demons." She gestured to the world outside. "Perhaps the greatest lie your world labors under is that this essential truth is childish and foolish. Don't fall into that trap. Give Light Breeze everything you have to give, and trust in us to protect her."

With tears leaking down her cheeks, Aisha turned to Light Breeze and cupped her face. "You’re my best friend in the whole world, and I’m sorry I can’t… I can’t help you more.”

“You already helped me more than I could have asked. I’d never have changed if it weren’t for you and Jaime. You still are helping, just by being my friend.” Light Breeze pushed into her before sliding into Jaime’s arms, her own legs hooking about him and nearly bearing him down with her weight.

“You ridiculous horse.” He laughed as he buckled back, his own cheeks wet as he rubbed one against hers. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will too.” She sniffled, a weight lifting from her chest as a lump formed in her throat. “In the interests of honesty, I… I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I’m pretty prone to it, actually. I can’t seem to help it. I hope I didn’t make things weird.”

“Yeah, I kinda knew.” He snickered, smoothing back her mane. It immediately sprang back into its messy configuration. “It didn’t bother me, Light. Never wanted to embarrass you by bringing it up, not when you seemed miserable enough as it was. I look forward to hearing about your escapades on the other side when this is all over.”

When it’s all over. Light Breeze could scarcely believe her trials would be concluded one way or another so soon.

Tim was the last to say goodbye, though Light couldn’t help but notice that it was Princess “Selene” he clung to the longest. Whatever transformative experience she’d wrought on him, Light Breeze hoped it would only lead to good things, and when she walked them to the door she hugged him tight. “I dunno how long it’ll be,” she said softly, “but maybe one day we could open a gate between our worlds, and on that day I’ll show it off to you myself.”

Princess Luna made a noncommittal noise, but she was in a hurry to show the others out, checking down the hall with her mystical senses before shutting the door.

“I felt that,” Light Breeze said as the wards clicked into place, Equestrian writing charged with dream magic made the air circulate strangely against her coat. She felt lonely without her friends by her side, but she kept the memory of their warmth close as she trotted into the living room with Moira, Artemis, and her brother’s possessed body.

“How’re you holding up with the hostage?” Moira asked, getting Light Breeze some water. She got out a bowl at first, until Light Breeze gave her a smoldering look and gestured with a wingtip to the cups hanging from over the sink.

“Adam is presently experiencing some fairly intense and realistic dreams.” Princess Luna settled onto the couch, though her repose belied the intensity in her eyes. “They’ve been stubborn, so I’m seeing how a few subjective weeks as an equine will do for them. I will break them of their changeling magic one way or another.”

“Changeling?”

“Long story.” Princess Luna waved a palm like it was a hoof.

Light Breeze took the cup in her hooves with a thank you to Moira, who seemed a little baffled at how efficiently she could cup it between the walls of each foot as she sat on her haunches in a way a horse would have struggled with. “What happens now, Princess?”

“Now? Now we wait. There will be no telling when the attack comes until it’s actually upon us.”

Little could instill less confidence in a young pegasus than having to wait, but she forced herself to sip the water and remain calm. After she finished, she reached back tentatively to the place where the cord laid. “Couldn’t we use this to track it?”

“Are you in a hurry to fight this thing in its lair?”

“No, it’s just…” Light Breeze turned her head to glance over at the black screen of the television.

“Maybe it’ll sense Lady Selene and decide that this prey isn’t worth the effort?” Artemis asked hopefully.

“We might as well wish for a portal to Equestria while we’re at it. I may have been able to trounce one weak changeling, but this is a different league entirely.” Princess Luna glanced at Light Breeze, distracted with her senses on something beyond Light Breeze's comprehension. “Is something amiss? Do you feel something from the cord?”

“No, it’s just… I can’t see our reflections in the television. Nor anything else, for that matter.”

The others’ heads came about, peering into the depthless black of the television.

“My TV ain’t that fucking nice,” Moira said, tension carving into her features.

“Get behind me!” Princess Luna barked, leaping to her feet.

With a terrible crack, the glass fronting the television screen starred and cracked, and then were pulled in, vanishing into the depths with nary a glimmer. The whole world darkened as some ineffable presence that billowed against her skin swallowed the light, and Light Breeze could feel the cord against her skin. It snapped taut, and an abrupt force yanked her bodily into the air. She fought against it, but her wings couldn’t find clearance in the brief moment between her sitting on the floor and crashing into the vortex of the screen. She clapped a leg around the edge briefly, dangling over a sable abyss, but another yank sent her tumbling with a scream.

End over end she plummeted. In glimpses of the rectangle of light from which she’d emerged, she caught sight of the others coming after her but could barely orient herself in the winding darkness as she fell towards the demon’s clutches.

Chapter 15 - The Eater of Light

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Normally, a free fall of any distance presented as much threat to a pegasus as a dull spoon. They could twist in the air like cats and come to a standstill from terminal velocity with a little practice and a lot of hard work. All around Light Breeze flowed her element, however sluggish and alien it felt, but though her wings and their magic caught the air she couldn't arrest her descent.

The cord kept her moving, its force inexorable. She hardly dared fight it for fear it might snap her neck, but its force distributed throughout her body like every joint had been hooked to wires. Twisting in midair, Light Breeze tried to bite it and cut herself free with her teeth, but a painful, tingling numbing sensation stole throughout her entire form.

Just as pressingly, the darkness gave way to substance. Terror had stretched seconds into an eternity as strange, tree-like shapes twisted in thorns whipped past her, each one tangled around pieces of broken masonry, ruined streets that seemed to wind into nowhere like nautilus shells twisting back into themselves.

Flaring out her wings, Light Breeze fought back against the pull with as much magic as she could muster and was rewarded with a sudden tightening of the cord. Her body ached, but she kept fighting, twisting and turning like a fish battling a hook as she tried to reach out with her hooves and grab one of the protrusions.

Pulling hard right, she scrambled at the surface of a sidewalk that could have emerged from any corner of Philadelphia. It pulled her down with its own gravity, the distant roar of traffic and car horns turning her ears, but she found no purchase and sailed off, smacking into a billboard hard enough to hurt. Ponies were tougher than humans—at least the nonmagical kind—and Light Breeze had taken more bad falls than she could count in her energetic life, but it still struck hard enough to glaze her vision with stars.

The urgency of the line and the tension when she fought it suggested she was close to her attacker. Raw determination kept her fighting even as a sense of hopelessness crept in, and Light Breeze roared with frustration and beat her wings for a bank of dark, rumbling clouds that loomed below as the surroundings progressively darkened, the thorns longer and crueler, the vistas bleaker than those than had come before with decaying, abandoned buildings and filthy sewers. As she flapped her wings, she wished for a tail wind, and as she pictured it powerfully in her mind her wings suddenly filled with air and propelled her into the stormcloud. She landed hard enough to kick off a burst of lightning, and this time her hooves were able to gather up her native element and extend her magic all the way through it.

The cord of darkness pulled at her, hard, but she fought back and snarled. "You're not, fucking, taking me!" Raising a hoof, she brought it down hard on the surface of the cloud, her thoughts and hatred aligned with action, and her vision split with a stroke of lightning that connected the cord to the cloud. Like a loose power line in a storm, the trailing line of darkness erupted in vibrant fire, blooming in a hot flash that heated her skin beneath the coat.

In the ringing aftermath, Light Breeze braced for the follow-up attack and found none. No pressure, no yanking. When she blinked away her dazzled vision, a cracked line still visible, she searched for and found the cord dangling from her head. It had been crudely severed, but it still twitched and flailed like a live wire, searching for the other end. The sight left her stunned, and Light Breeze remembered what Princess Luna had said about her. With a hoof to her chest, in this strange world, she could feel the pulse of a strange light from within her. It shone through her skin as the cord's influence slackened, and she drew in a breath free from pain for the first time in a while.

No matter what the princess had said, Light Breeze hadn't quite believed that she was anything remarkable, but if nothing else the demon was making a good case for why she might be.

Somewhere in the distance, in the direction the dark cord so desperately desired to reconnect, a wave of fury rippled across the eerie landscape. Among the blacked stalks, the thorns grew longer and sharper, and the fragmented landscapes warped more tightly. Streets and buildings spiraled in on one another at crazed angles, and glass and cement cracked and darkened with age and rot. The cord grew more agitated in its twitching, and Light Breeze sensed the approach of its owner.

Clambering to all fours, she spread her wings and took off in the opposite direction. She didn't have the faintest notion of where she'd come from, how to escape, or whether or not she could get away from this thing at all, but she wasn't about to wait around to meet it.

Another ripple passed through the strange, starless void, and the world changed in its wake. Gravity suddenly yanked her up and to the side, and she had to tuck, roll, and flare her wings once she had a good sense of "down" to keep from plowing into a new landscape that spread before her. So suddenly had it appeared that she had trouble taking it in at first, but the more she saw the more a sense of creeping horror descended on her.

The landscape spoke of Equestria in its gently rolling hills, in the unbroken line of sight of a flat world devoid of a horizon until distant mountains or the haze of atmosphere cut off vision, but its quaint villages lay in blackened, smoking ruins amid a dry, burned-out wasteland. Canterlot, normally visible from almost every part of Equestria, had slid down the mountain in smoldering piles. Fillydelphia sprawled like an impressionistic painting in ash below the river, and her heart sank no matter how she told herself the shockingly realistic vision with its soot-scented skies couldn't be real.

Worst of all, she could feel the way magic had drained from the world, making her motions sluggish as her wings fought to keep her up. In places the land had cracked and split among massive fault lines that led to a churning void, as though the realm were a plate that had fallen and shattered. Smoky clouds blotted out the sun, moon, and stars, and she couldn't have said if it were night or day or like the time Twilight had raised both by mistake.

"You cannot run from me forever, child." A terrible voice reverberated from all directions. "Like the coming doom of your two worlds, the inevitability of your end cannot be denied. All the light of Creation will be supped upon by my kind, and all your struggles will only bring you greater unhappiness. Surrender in peace or suffer in struggle."

Neither male nor female, it oozed through Light Breeze's skin with a sick, familiar sting, and the vague memory of that voice returned to her. The moments between falling asleep and waking had always seemed to her a painless and instantaneous gap, but now it filled in with hazy recollections of being stretched out, of fangs sinking into her astral flesh and pulling out a little of her light at a time before the wound was stitched shut with black thread.

"Little light, little light, don't give flight. All I want is a little bite. Little light, little light, share with an old demon your shine so bright."

The hostile clouds above her heads extruded the eight, pointed legs of a spider to catch her, and repressed terror shot through Light Breeze like a knife. Night after night of being clutched by those limbs came back to her in stark, agonizing fear, and her wings went stiff.

It was Aisha's fierce, uncompromising face that snapped her out of it, a memory that snapped to the fore like a slap to the face as though her friend could sense her giving up and wouldn't let her hear the end of it. Taking a deep breath to center herself, Light Breeze drew on that well of light inside her and pushed out. The gelid air flowed more readily, and she banked hard and dove for the ground as the legs snapped shut above her.

"Fuck off!" she shouted back, her tail streaming in the air above. "This is my power, and you've had enough!"

"You cannot escape!" The clouds coalesced, coagulating into the vague shape of an arachnid, as they descended. Vast as it was, it approached with horrifying speed, dropping faster and faster towards her. "Why run? You know I will only hurt you more for every mile. I will carve out your every nerve and scrape them raw as I pull the fire from your chest."

"Everyone wants to eat me, and I'm getting really sick of it!" Thinking fast, Light Breeze knew that the princess wouldn't have hesitated to follow, and that the longer she stayed free, the more likely she was to be found. The ground hurtled up at her with the haste she dove, and the city with it.

As she pulled up alongside the river, wings fighting for every spare ounce of thrust and legs outstretched, Light Breeze looked up to find the spider swirling down to meet her with a growing twister of dark ash. With mounting despair, she cast about for options, and then looked down at her rippling reflection in the dark waters. A grin split her face. Maybe she was fast in the air, but even the fastest cloud-born pegasus in the world couldn't keep up with her in the water.

Tucking her wings, she narrowed her profile, sucked in a deep breath, and dove through the water's surface with barely a splash. Light didn't have a patch on her mother, but she could hold her breath for a quarter of an hour at least and extend her magic from her wings through the river water as easily as she could the air. When she beat them, it parted for her, propelling her with a column of rushing bubbles in her wake.

She didn't know for sure if the spider would be similarly inconvenienced, but she believed it, and maybe that mattered right then. Magic cared about what a person thought and felt, and Light Breeze's magic responded in kind as she rocketed between the river banks towards the sea.

When the river spread steadily into a brackish delta, she flowed to the surface and took a gasp of air and a quick observation. The spider's tendrils had fallen behind, but the landscape was already starting to bend and warp.

As she dove again, Light Breeze refused to accept the change. She fought back, picturing the ocean as she'd oft remembered it visiting her grandparents on the coast. The sunlight slanted green and white on a late autumn day, and fish swam in cautious schools like fields of colorful flowers. She remembered the tang of salt and the cooling depths, and forced them into the world in defiance of the spider demon's will.

Yet, even as she held fast, she could see imperfections, cracks to a ruined world, to polluted seas draining away into nothingness. She knew the demon was right, that perhaps she could fight for a while, but she wasn't powerful or slippery enough to get away, not when it knew her and where to find her at all times. Eventually, she'd slip up, and then the demon would hollow out the inside of her soul and drain it of everything that made it special and beautiful.

Light Breeze had to have faith that Princess Luna would find her before the devourer did, and so she fought on, refusing to give up and cut short the chase. The faces of her friends, human or otherwise, flashed through her vision as her lungs burned for air, and she churned the water with her wings with greater precision than ever for their sake. Riding the currents was a lot different than flying in some ways, even for her; even with magic, the ocean had a way it liked to do things, a powerful flow that circulated through all the seas, and one had to surrender to it and be guided by it as often as one fought.

In a way, she was fighting a creature of anti-creation with the very forces it sought to unravel, however strange and dreamlike the experience was. All she needed to do was hope that her stalling would be enough, and that Princess Luna's rescue would not be for naught.

Quick as she tried, Light Breeze slipped from Selene's grasp. She leapt after her, terror seizing her heart as Light slammed into the television. The empty frame crashed into the wall, but she was late again on reaching her even as she bounded over the flimsy coffee table to the gaping wound in the world.

"Damnation!" she hissed, the words lost in the sucking air. All the work she'd done to seal the windows and doors and she'd failed to consider that one window, at least, had a direct line to the outside world she hadn't given any thought to. Her carelessness may well have cost Light Breeze her soul.

"We need to go in after her." She turned to the others, who had barely reacted for shock, their hair and loose papers stirred in the alien wind. "Hurry! Or this has all been for naught."

Artemis leapt to her feet at once, and Moira shakily joined her. Despite her obvious, overwhelming terror, she took Selene's side at the howling abyss. "What can we do?"

"Artemis, I need you to remain here and meditate. You will be our guide back."

"Lady Selene? Are you sure? Moira hasn't…" Her hands clenched, long black hair whipping towards the TV. The force of it faded somewhat, and Selene reached out with body and mind to seal it open where it lay before it could shut on them. It fought back, nature abhorring the alien wound in its substance.

"Moira is going to learn to fly the hard way, and you've already proven your ability to be a beacon to me." Shaking her head vigorously, Selene strengthened her will and wrested the portal under her control, the edges blazing with blue light as her hands tightened. The terrible wind faded, but the portal remained open. "If you fail, it's like that we may never find our way back to this place."

Swallowing, Artemis nodded and returned to the couch, curling up on her belly as though she had changed into a mare already. "I will not fail you, my princess."

"Let's go, then, Moira." Taking the edges in hand, Selene clambered into the opening and launched herself forward.

Moira hesitated at the entrance behind her, squinting in a vain attempt to spot something other than endless darkness. "Fuck me. If I don't come back, tell my family I died a hero." Pushing herself up, Moira fell face first into the darkness with a horrified "Fuck!" trailing after her.

As they fell, Selene's senses expanded with her deep affinity for the astral realm. They had been taken into a portion of the Earth's collective unconscious that she'd been unable to explore given the requirements of her mission, but which had many similarities to part of the Gaian side. Direction in astral space was tricky, because directions like up, down, left, right, forward, and back were illusory, subject to being twisted into dimensions of space and thought not fully comprehensible to an embodied mind. Grabbing hold of the screaming Moira, she pulled her down in a direction that made the dark, thorny threads that embraced the gems of sleeping humans seem to swell into immensity, as if they had become very small. Yet, the bigger they became, the more it was revealed that they were composed of tinier, finer threads, a fractal infinity that looked as though it might extend forever.

As human dreams shrank into nothing, fragments of street corners and signs and beached ships grew among the branching threads. Buildings unfolded from points to shocking reality, and they had to dodge a building with a great bronze bell that felt particularly weighty in Selene's view.

"What the flying hell is all this?" Moira demanded as she clung to Selene.

"The dreams of the land and all that rests upon it." Selene kept her cool as they descended, following the hints of Light Breeze's passage, the sweat and fear of a terrified young mare catching on her sensitive tongue. "The demon's lair is somewhere in this direction. What you're seeing are the deep thoughts of the buildings and other objects of your world, in part reflecting the thoughts and wills of those who live among them.

"What am I supposed to do? I couldn't not go after that foal, but… Selene, I'm out of my depth!"

Turning towards her, Selene gripped Moira's arm and met her eyes. "My beloved student, this is everything you've hoped for. Your imagination, your knowledge, all of it is more real than ever here, and you can use it."

Concentrating on herself, Selene exhaled and breathed shimmering, ebony smoke over Adam's borrowed body. From within the starry depths, she spread wings and stretched her hands into hooves. On Gaia, she could change shape at a moment's notice, and even Earth's drought couldn't stop her from doing it in the world of dreams. When it swallowed itself back up again, she stretched out her whole body, from dark horn to her patchy hind, and exulted in the remembered sense of power and grace she'd normally been forced to leave behind.

"Here, Moira," she continued, "you are more powerful than you ever dared believe, should you have the imagination and will for it. Consider it a taste of what will come when we free magic in the world."

With growing determination, Moira nodded. "Okay, my princess," she said fervently. "Let's kick that demon's ass back to fucking hell."

"I will permit that vulgarity this one time." Selene gathered her power and snapped her wings, launching the both of them forward. "Let us go kick ass."

The Moon Has Two Faces

by Ether Echoes

Chapter 1 - A Dream Remembered

Chapter 2 - A Nightmare Revisited

Chapter 3 - Restlessness

Chapter 4 - Tilting the Scales

Chapter 5 - But You Can't Fight Forever

Chapter 6 - Still, the Moon's Light Shines

Chapter 7 - A Song of Hope

Chapter 8 - A Stone Turned

Chapter 9 - Clipped Wings

Chapter 10 - Reflection

Chapter 11 - Broken People

Chapter 12 - Prey

Chapter 13 - Cord of Light and Shadow

Chapter 14 - The Crack in the World

Chapter 15 - The Eater of Light