Luna hasn't been a princess for long. She managed to wrangle the moon, find herself coronated, and now she finds herself able to visit ponies in their dreams, something which she learns to share.
Luna soared. Wispy trails surrounded her, and a myriad of twinkling pinpricks dotted the infinitely blue and black world, and below her lay another myriad of shapes, doors and windows and formless sleeping minds.
All of them belonged to ponies. All of them her subjects, all of them her children to care for in the years and decades to come. The thought brought a smile to Luna’s lips, and while she had no real physical form in this realm, it also sent a chill down her back.
Most of the dreamers below seemed calm and content. Many of their dreams grew and swelled, indescribable forms surrounding their little pocket of collective consciousness. Luna occasionally peeked in on these dreams, if not to check for trouble, then at least to move on with the same content feeling, knowing they were safe.
Some of the dreams were nonsense, their owners’ minds simply sorting through their memories and experiences of the previous day. Luna checked these dreams a little more often, not trusting the randomness to simply leave her ponies alone, but like the others she was relieved to find most of them peaceful and calm.
Lastly were the dreamers whose fears and worries bled into their sleep. They were hard to spot from afar, from her vantage point above every one of her subjects, but little telltale signs drew her in. Darker bubbles, misshapen and restless. Their anxieties and worries manifested in tendrils that wormed their way deeper into the collective space around them. Luna had seen what these do to other dreamers. She stopped these horrid manifestations, pruning their vile vines and following them to their roots. She approached their sources, and with care applied hers magics to the crying foals and panicked adults.
She still didn’t know what to really do, how to work through their problems. She had repeated visits to the same individuals, and they never recognised her, but that was okay. To see their dreams calm, to shrink and fall into themselves like a rage subsided was good enough for her, at least for now.
This night, however, was different.
Luna fashioned herself a routine. Many dreamers were clustered, presumably living near one another. That seemed to ring true for Everfree Castle’s staff and Celestia’s radiant imaginings, and for the aristocrats of the budding mountain town of Canterlot. Usually she worked her way outward, picking a direction inside of Equestria’s borders, to the twinkling east or west, or the ominous darkness of the north. She instead flew south that night.
For Luna saw a single bright dot flitting over the dreamers there, out of place against the static starfield.
As she moved towards the curious ember, she passed by more dreamers, those from less familiar lands. She saw no reason to let curiosity make derelict in her duty, so she still checked in on them, glancing at their dreams. Academically she recognised these ponies, and she could still combat their terrors, comfort the individuals, but some of their languages were unfamiliar, some of their cultural worries foreign.
As Luna dove to another cluster, she caught sight of the ember doing the same nearby. Now that she was nearer, she could see it had a peach tint to it. Pausing, she admired the grace with which it fell, the way the inexplicable, non-light glinted off of it.
Luna made a choice. These dreamers below could wait.
She dove toward the ember.
The ember slowed. Luna felt attention cast upon her, filled with some level of judgement and curiosity. Whatever the ember was thinking, it decided to continue on its fall to the minds beneath it, but now it spiraled and spun, allowing Luna to catch up.
The ember did not grow as Luna came near. It was no brighter, no larger, no more intense than it was when she first spotted it. Up close, however, it was faster, more agile, and entirely aware of Luna’s presence, as the moment Luna neared it, its spiral ceased and it shot down and into one of the dreams beneath.
With a smirk and a laugh with no lips to pass through, Luna followed. She passed through the dream’s threshold, and then came to rest her hooves upon warm sand in an alley. The sensation came as a surprise, and Luna’s wings flared out as she stumbled back. Her rump connected with a closed door recently slammed behind her, then fell as she sat down.
Most dreams before were partly built, details missing, like she was peering into a painting to where the artist’s brush was unable to reach. This dream was vivid, more real than a painting or even a memory. The heat of the sun above and the sand below, the smell of spice from a distant market, the far away echoes of faint conversation. Luna supposed it’d sting if she pinched herself.
The novelty of the moment passed before long, and Luna rose to her hooves. She tilted her head, raising an ear to listen to the environment. Aside from the unfamiliar tongues, it sounded not unlike most other townships she had visited over the past few years. She also supposed if it was being dreamed so clearly, then the source of the noise, the sounds of conversations and work and rabble must be the center of the dream.
Luna took a few steps toward the center of the town, and paused to examine herself. In most of her duties, she had no self to examine, but here she was every bit as real as the world around her.
Her coat might stand out a little, as dark as it was, but her height and wings and horn combined would most certainly cast her as an outlier.
Glancing around, Luna found a solution to some of those problems. She took down a patterned linen sheet off a line to wrap around herself like a cloak, hiding her wings and obscuring her horn, then set off. A little twang of guilt tugged at the back of her mind, but she suppressed it with the reminder that she was but in a dream.
The market itself was as real and as vivid as the alley she arrived in. The moment she turned a corner she bumped into another pony. Both stumbled and turned, and he rose a hoof and fired a string of strong words Luna’s way, none of which she understood.
“My apologies,” she said, quickly bowing her head, ensuring she was lower than the stallion she had upset. His frantic words slowed, turning into a mutter and a lazy kick at the ground before he turned and continued on his way. When she was sure he had moved on, Luna rose back up with a frown.
It lasted only a second. That frown slipped from her face when she turned back to the rest of the street. She remembered a place like this described to her once, in a book or spoken about by Star Swirl, and now she saw it with her own eyes.
The entire street was lined with possibly a hundred stalls, each one with linen and cotton and silk hung above them, protecting the ponies there from the sun. They were lush with bowls and crates of uncountable colours and shades, of powders and spices, of fruit and produce, textiles and gems. The market she saw reminded her of Canterlot’s central square, but the foreign smells tantalised her and drew her forward, as if pulling her with an unseen rope.
The acknowledgement of her curiosity reminded Luna why she was there. As she walked, her gaze lifted from the produce and wares to the ponies ahead of her. Just like their surroundings, they too were made of a multitude of colours, and while most were pegasi, a number of unicorns and earth ponies were present too. Yet, despite all the rainbow presented to her, there was not a single pony that reminded her of that ember.
All that assuming the ember she saw was even a pony at all. But it must have been. It had reacted to Luna, she knew it did. It had intentionally caught her attention and drew her into this dream and must have done so for a reason. Another creature might not have played or taken refuge in a pony’s mind such as this.
A shout nearby drew Luna out of her thoughts, and she turned toward it. It repeated, shouting words Luna did not recognise, but she sensed the urgency and anger in them and she hurried toward it.
Seconds later, and she stopped at the mouth of another alley, looking in towards a trio of pegasi surrounding a fourth, a young colt with a dark blue coat. He looked up at the largest pegasus, trembling under the words the stallion spoke. Luna watched, and she tried to reach out with her magic, to chase away the bullies.
The scene was too real. As hard as she concentrated, the older stallions remained, and her usual practice of merely banishing the visions refused to work.
“Vivid dreamers.”
Luna spun and looked toward another cloaked individual beside her. “Pardon?” she asked.
“He is a vivid dreamer,” the figure said. The voice was deep, but calm and soft. “It makes it easier for you to appear here, but it means you must work harder to help him.”
Luna blinked, turning back to the colt. The stallions around him closed in, and one struck the foal’s head. Luna winced, and channelled her focus into her horn. Again the stallions remained, against her expectations.
“Try a real spell,” the figure said. Luna turned to them, and they—she turned back to Luna. A peach face and dark lined eyes smiled up at the princess. Luna’s breath paused, and recognition flashed across her mind. “Or do what I do and tumble with them.”
After a pause Luna smiled, then she stepped fully into the alley.
“Leave him alone,” she commanded, drawing on recent lessons to project her voice. The stallions turned to her, the colt forgotten. One of them said something, but she still did not understand the words. The gesture waving her away was enough.
“I will not repeat myself.” With a ripping sound, the cloak was magically torn away and Luna flared out her wings. She filled the space in the alley, both with her physical form and her presence, casting the stallions into shadow. She scowled, raising her head but angling it to look down on the pegasi past her snout. Their stern looks vanished, and the leader stammered. A second later, three sets of wings kicked up dust and sand, leaving Luna alone with the colt.
He continued trembling, his fearful gaze set upon her instead. Luna’s scowl softened, and as she walked closer to him she tucked away her wings and settled down onto her belly.
“You are safe now,” she whispered. The colt, previously hyperventilating, now slowed his breathing. He said something, soft enough she almost couldn’t hear, but she made out one word.
“...Luna...”
She smiled and nodded. “‘Tis but a dream, my little pony,” she said, but confusion registered on his face.
She frowned, and opened her mouth to speak again when the mare behind her said something, once again in words Luna did not catch. Understanding lit the colt’s eyes a moment later, and he nodded to the mare, then to Luna. He said something in return, bowing to Luna. Luna returned the gesture with another nod of her head.
“That was impressive,” said the mare. “Though I suppose being an alicorn means impressiveness comes naturally.”
Luna looked at the mare and smirked. “Thou were testing me.”
“As much as I was teaching you.” She chuckled, her voice deep and rich like honey. “Come, we should leave the boy. It does him no good for us to remain longer than we’re needed.”
Luna nodded and rose up. The thought of leaving came with an odd sensation in her hooves, and she examined one, lifting it to her face. “May I ask thy name?”
“You may,” replied the mare, “but I may not answer, Princess Luna.” She walked further into the alley and pushed open a door. Cool air blew out, and inside Luna saw the dreamscape.
“Ah.” Luna let out a short little laugh. “I see both my contemporaries and little colts have me at a disadvantage.”
“Maybe in the next dream.” The mare discarded her cloak and beat her wings, rising off the ground. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, my little moth.” She flashed Luna a grin, and then shot through the door.
Luna remained for a moment, blinking away the sand and dirt that flew up to her eyes. She coughed, and turned to a now giggling colt. Shooting him a brief scowl made him quiet, but a little smile still creased his lips.
The first thing Luna did the following morning was bury her muzzle into an encyclopedia. While there weren’t a great many, and they lacked in details, Star Swirl’s penned collection was a great place to start for any new study subject, as much as Luna loathed to admit it.
It was also rather light on the details of dreams and sleep.
What it did have were preliminary notes on nations to the south. Sparse city states in jungles and deserts and savannah, and mentions of Pegasi and their unique magics of the region they were often reluctant to share.
Later, Luna hurried back and forth, scouring the shelves of the castle’s impressive library for anything on pegasi. She skipped over military strategy and tactics and instead focused on treatises and tomes on their magic. She was already passingly familiar with most given her heritage, but she could always check.
When she had scanned them all, finding only books on flight and weather and more strategy and tactics, she turned at last to the folktales and fairy tales of the pegasi in a desperate last bid to find anything at all.
She spent hours devouring the words in her chosen selection as the sun rose over the horizon. With the great library’s doors open, the beams of light came in through the windows of the corridor and bathed Luna in warmth. She lifted her head, a blush creeping across her cheeks, then spared a few moments to look to the west and do her duty of lowering the moon in turn.
She didn’t turn back immediately. Instead she looked at the distant, fading twilight, the last specks of stars fading away to the growing pink and blue of the day. A sigh passed her lips, and she turned back east and nearly caught a mouthful of beard.
“Why are you up so early?” Star Swirl asked. He wasn’t in fact close enough Luna could taste him, but despite his age and diminutive stature, he still filled the room before her. “You’re normally still in bed by this hour.”
“I…” Luna swallowed, caught off guard by her teacher. He always had a way of making her feel like a schoolfilly, even if he was now her subject. “I was simply curious and wanted to do some reading on…” She glanced at her current book, lifting the cover to check the topic and author. “...Astor and the Platinum Sword, and Other Assorted Fairy Tales by Ser… Oh, hm. Must be a pseudonym.”
She grimaced inwardly when Star Swirl’s first response was to raise an eyebrow. “Even as a full grown mare and a ruler, you are an odd child,” he said a moment later. Luna’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled at her. “That doesn’t explain the rest of these books. I know somepony bit by a research bugbear when I see it. Out with it.”
Luna’s shoulders tensed again and she chewed on her lip. Thus far she had escaped his ire with her recent nightly escapades, but something nagged at her. She wasn’t sure what she needed: a name, a subject, something to work with.
Luna sighed and shut her book. “I have been practicing dream magic,” she said simply.
Star Swirl remained quiet and looked away. From his squinted eyes and the way he stroked his beard, she assumed he was looking inward, not to a specific aisle.
“That is not a subject I am familiar with,” said Star Swirl. “Certainly not one I have written about. However did you discover it?”
“By chance,” said Luna. “The same way Sister and I discovered our talent for the sun and moon, in a way. I’ve come to the conclusion it is part of my duty, my destiny.” Star Swirl turned to her, silent and patient, giving her space to talk. She looked aside, thinking over her next words. “I can enter the dreams of sleeping ponies. I can chase away their fears. I know not what that means down the road, but it feels right.”
“You mean you have already put it to use?” asked Star Swirl. Luna nodded, and he chuckled again. “Well, it seems some of my lessons have sunk in after all, and it sounds to me as if you have been doing this for some time. I shan’t ask why you have kept it from me, but why you have chosen now to begin studying it.”
Luna’s cheeks burned as she pictured the mare from the night before, but she kept herself steady with a deep breath that she kept hidden with years of practice. She reckoned Star Swirl noticed it anyway. “I am not the only one capable of it. I encountered another pony, a pegasus mare of peach colour. I thought mayhaps there would be references to such magic in pegasi folklore—”
“Somnambula,” Star Swirl said, and Luna shut her jaw with a click of her teeth.
“Pardon?”
Star Swirl chuckled again, waving a hoof at Luna. “An acquaintance of mine, former or current advisor of Prince Hisan to the south though I can’t remember which. Green mane and… Was it violet or rose-colored eyes?”
“Violet,” Luna muttered. “And she spoke the language, seemingly she was from the region…”
Star Swirl nodded. “While I can’t be entirely certain, It stands like it was her you met.” He hummed, and resumed stroking his beard. “It’s a wonder she never shared it with me, but perhaps you were right to assume it is something only pegasi—and alicorns—can do.” A low, gurgling noise made Star Swirl frown. “That is something to ponder over on a full stomach. Will you join me, Luna?”
“No.” Luna shook her head and rose to her hooves. “I think I will do some further reading. Did Somnambula”—the name made her tongue tingle, and she failed to hide a smile—”put much to paper?”
Star Swirl paused for a moment, then nodded. “You know my system. Nine-hundred-twenty and onward.” He then checked the pile of books once more before turning around. “I suggest you check section two-hundred for philosophy and dreams too. She never wrote anything on the subject, but it might help.”
Luna’s smile wobbled, and she nodded in return. “Thank you, Star Swirl. Enjoy your breakfast.” With that, she turned and disappeared further into the library, tasting the name on her tongue and lips and leaving Star Swirl to tend to his stomach alone.
Much of the rest of Luna’s day went by in a blur. Knowing the name of the ember she had chased kept Luna busy enough now she had her words to bury herself beneath. While it was frustrating that the books did not focus on magic itself, she found the words therein enrapturing.
They were an overview of Somnambula’s life, as an advisor and nightly warden of Prince Hisan and what those duties entailed, and even an overview of her time in a group of adventurers alongside Star Swirl.
At some point during her reading, she had missed Star Swirl leaving on some important errand. At some point a servant brought her food unprompted, which led to the pony scampering off as Luna glowered at them, though she was grateful for the fruit and bread. At some point Celestia had interrupted Luna to remind her of her public duty, and Luna complied, apologising profusely to her sister.
Eventually Luna caught herself staring at a candle, the light of which she had been reading by for the past hour or so. She slowly blinked and held back a yawn, then tried to resume her reading. A moment later, she was staring at the candle again, and again she tried to continue reading. The third time she blinked, the candle was replaced with a grinning, peach coated mare.
Luna grinned. “Somnambula.”
Somnambula chuckled, and Luna enjoyed the saccharine noise.
“I hadn’t expected you to learn my name so soon, little moth,” Somnambula said as she sat back. While Luna recognised they were still in the library, the door behind Somnambula opened straight to the everfree rather than to a corridor.
“I am afraid Star Swirl had to spoil that for me.” Luna stood up and stretched her back and wings, before bowing her head and shoulders. “I must apologise for also spoiling thy secret to him.”
Somnambula made a gesture and a rude sound, waving Luna off with a hoof. “That stallion has a million secrets of his own, and I know half of them. I only kept this from him because he hadn’t asked, though I suppose I ought to expect a letter from him in the near future.”
Luna rolled her eyes as she sat back down, but she retained her smile and laughed. The two sat there for a few moments, looking to one another, while the sounds of the night, of chirping crickets and distant owl calls, drifted through the library. Loathe as she was to do it, Luna broke that quiet with an inward breath, and Somnambula broke it with words.
“You’re about to ask how I came so quick,” said Somnambula. Luna paused, then shut her mouth and nodded. “Well, that’s a simple answer: You are so bright here, not that you would know it.”
Luna raised an eyebrow. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You are like a child, so curious and proud about some new concept you’ve grasped so firmly.” Somnambula laughed and rested her head in her hooves, squishing up her cheeks. “It is adorable.”
Somnambula straightened herself again. “But to answer, I’ll present another question: what did I look like when we first met?”
An image of a tiny, distant mote flitted through Luna’s mind. “Like a fire’s ember, sailing through the sky. Yet… ‘Twere small, exactly like an ember. I could have mistaken thou for a star.”
Somnambula nodded. “Indeed. Many dreamwalkers—not that we are many—appear exactly so. We are small, inobtrusive, like the spirits of a flame. But you are an incredibly bright little star. It was simple enough to find your light and follow it, even as it winked in and out.”
A moment passed, then Luna groaned and dropped her head on the table with a thud. “Stars above, I fell asleep in the library.”
Somnambula’s expression flattened. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It is not proper,” Luna answered, bringing her head back up. “I am a monarch, not some child. I cannot wait for my parents or servants to carry me to my chambers; that is my own responsibility.”
Somnambula snorted, and Luna frowned. “Maybe I could come tuck you in, little moth.”
Luna’s cheeks burned and the urge to headbutt the table grew inside of her. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Somnambula didn’t answer. She just stood, looking to the night behind her. “That is the Everfree Forest, no?”
After a pause, Luna nodded. “Yes,” she said. “The castle is situated within.”.
Somnambula started toward the door. “Come. I haven’t been to the Everfree in some time.”
Luna tilted her head. “This Everfree is not real.”
“Maybe,” said Somnambula, “but your memories are. I want to see what you think of this wild spit of land.” Somnambula lifted off the ground and drifted backward, beaming at Luna. In spite of the darkness, she was like a light leaving the library, and Luna felt compelled to follow.
The difference in the air between the library and the night beyond was striking. Luna knew it ought to be colder as they were passing into autumn, but the breeze was refreshing, not chilling. Below her the forest blurred into dim, barely visible greens and browns, a thick rooftop of leaves and branches, but here and there she spotted breaks where the road led to and through a nearby village. None of it made much real sense, and as she skirted the trees, she caught missing details, trees simply blurring together like a lazy brush stroke.
She looked up at the night sky, and was met with a different view. The stars were all exactly where she expected them, while the moon hung high and unnaturally large. More brush strokes painted the firmament as a colourful wash of blues and purples, some streaks light enough it looked as though the painter had splashed milk across the canvas. It was inaccurate, in a way, but more real than the real night sky. Every now and then shooting stars skimmed the atmosphere above and it all drew her eyes to the one pink star whizzing ahead of her in the treetops, in the direction of Mount Avalon.
It occurred to Luna as she flew that she wasn’t simply dreaming. She was experiencing it as a place, somewhere she could visit, and vague references to lucid dreamers in the denser, more boring books of the day came to mind.
She grinned as an idea formed, and a moment later that distant mountain was now touching the Everfree. The two mares approached the peak, though Somnambula appeared to falter, allowing Luna to catch up to her, then pass to the mountaintop where she settled. It wasn’t flat, but it was stable enough Luna felt confident standing there, waiting for Somnambula to follow.
When the pegasus landed, she had eyes only for Luna, staring up at her with what the princess assumed was wonder. It tickled a part of her brain, and she held her head a little higher, smug at the unspoken praise.
“That was impressive,” said Somnambula a moment later, her cheer returning to her face.
Luna nodded and politely bowed her head, before angling it differently to look down toward a town beneath. White stone and colourful rooftops bordered narrow streets that were practically carved into the mountainside, while the odd buildings to the outskirts were made of the same solid grey as the mountain itself. Somnambula followed her gaze, and the pair sat down on the cool rock.
“That is Canterlot, no?” asked Somnambula, and Luna nodded again.
“High on the side of a mountain with only one road in and out of the town. Safe and secure and easy to defend.” Luna glanced at Somnambula, who playfully stuck out her tongue.
“So that is what sits in your pretty head other than me? Strategy and tactics?”
With a laugh, Luna threw back her head. “It takes up a lot, but no. Not now, I suppose.” She sighed and pointed to the roads with a hoof, drawing a straight line from the start of the town to its largest building, a keep with rounded cap roofs. A few lights and dots wandered the larger road. “I also happen to think the town is rather pretty, especially at night. It is quiet, but not silent, with ponies still walking the streets even now.”
“They enjoy your night.” Somnambula stood and placed herself before Luna, and the princess found herself looking anywhere but at the mare.
“‘Tis not my night.” A hoof gently turned Luna’s head to look at Somnambula, into her violet eyes. It left Luna’s cheek feeling fuzzy.
“The night may have been around before you, but it is yours now to bring, to watch over and to care for.”
Luna leaned forward, pressing Somnambula’s hoof into her cheek. She brought her height into her movement, placing herself just above Somnambula while still sitting on her haunches. No breath was felt, no scents to pick up on, but Luna felt the pure presence of Somnambula in front of her. The warmth without heat, a tantalising light.
“I am glad to now have someone to share it with,” Luna said at last, breaking the silence.
Luna had never read so much in so little time. She had read the hoofful of books written by Somnambula in a day, then moved onto the other titles she recommended, devouring them over a week. Biographies, reports, essays, all of which seemed unrelated to one another.
But Luna saw the connections.
“The colt I helped was Prince Hisan?” Luna asked, flying alongside Somnambula within the dreamscape. They weren’t in any pony’s dream this time, while Somnambula’s ember was still clearly visible through the pegasus, deep in her chest like a flaming heart. “I could have sworn he was older than us, is he not?”
“He is,” Somnambula answered with a light hearted chuckle, one that Luna reciprocated immediately. “But he still has the occasional nightmare of his bullies when he was a foal. Sometimes those fears never quite go away.”
“That sounds… unsatisfactory.” From Luna’s guess, they were somewhere to the east, headed toward the County of Manehattan, some fresh new territory given to some new peer of the realm. “There is nothing that can be done to correct the issue?”
Somnambula shook her head, then glanced off to the side, away from Luna. A tiny handful of dreams were nestled into a colourful grove of stars and wisps, though one bubble was taking on a deep grey tint. Both mares banked toward it.
“It isn’t a simple process, and sometimes the issues are so fundamental to a pony they cannot be changed.” The two mares settled around the dream as it turned into a sour stormcloud.
Luna couldn’t grasp any details, just the raw emotions beneath, deep in the pony’s mind.
“Ah, poor thing. Abstract dreams like this are always difficult to deal with.” Somnambula pressed a hoof to the growing terror and her ember flared, but Luna rose a hoof to pause her.
“I have given that some thought,” said Luna.
Somnambula’s ember darkened, and she watched Luna patiently. “Go on.”
Luna smiled briefly, and she pressed a hoof to the dream too. “In this shape, these dreams are but emotions and fragmented memories. We can only soothe the emotions and hide away anything clearly terrifying.” Luna’s own inner light glowed. She couldn’t see her own ember, but the silver-white light reflected off her translucent form and brightened Somnambula’s faded face. “But we can address vivid dreamers directly, and you have seen what I can do when I am truly in control of a dream.”
The stormcloud-dream exploded, and the two mares were engulfed into the ballooning expanse. The transition from the ethereal night to a wet and rainy road was instant, and Luna shivered as water soaked into her coat and made her pale blue bob of a mane stick to her scalp.
Somnambula, to Luna’s delight, stared at her with wide eyes and her jaw ever so slightly open. Luna let her be for a few moments, glancing around and shivering off the rain.
They were on a road beside a river, its banks coming dangerously close to overflowing. A foal clad in an oilskin galloped across a nearby bridge, but before they could cross two thirds of the way across, there was a great and terrible crack as a loose log in the water smashed into the bridge, cracking the timber and carrying away a segment.
“I firmly believe it should be easier to help this dreamer this way,” Luna stated. “Please calm the storm. I will rescue the dreamer.”
“An entire storm?” Somnambula laughed with wide eyes and threw a wing at the sky. “Nopony I know could handle this on their own.”
Luna chucked back and lowered her head. “And nopony I know could move an entire mountain. You can do it, my flame.”
A deeper pink crept across Somnambula’s face, and she nodded. “I will try, and I hope you know what you are doing.”
Another piece of floating detritus hit the rear of the bridge as the pony tried to turn back, sending cracks all through the wood. This left them trapped and panicked, standing on a small section still held up by now weakening supports.
The poor thing didn’t have to wait long, and a few wing beats after taking off Luna had them held tightly in her legs. The bridge collapsed fully behind her in a cacophony, and she squeezed the squealing, trembling mass firmly against her barrel. She couldn’t see a change in the storm yet, and Luna bit her tongue as she turned around. She found a lone tree on the opposite side of the road to the river, and made for it, depositing the foal there. She kept her wings outstretched, keeping her head and the foal covered from the rain above.
That’s when the lightning came. Luna felt it first, a preternatural feeling she had grown accustomed to on stormy nights. It was, supposedly, a gift that pegasi had, and a part of weather they had yet to master.
The white streak of light shot down toward Luna and the tree, and she tucked herself over the foal. There was a thunderous noise, but it did not strike. The tree was unharmed, and the energy simply… vanished.
A few moments later, Somnambula dropped down, energy sparking across her back and tail. Her sheer clothes appeared fried, but she looked none the worse for wear.
“Thank you,” Luna mouthed, and she turned her attention downwards once more. “You are safe now, little one,” she said, her voice soft and cool. The foal continued trembling, but small leg movements turned them to face Luna.
Beneath the oilskin was a filly with a coat of red, a little on the older side, with wide, green eyes and a curly pink mane that stuck to her face. She swallowed. “Wh-who are you?”
“I am Princess Luna,” she answered. “What is your—”
Red Anjou.
The name shot through Luna’s mind, and the entire filly came into sharp focus. She was, for a moment, more than the image of a young girl. She was an entire lifetime, a plethora of experiences and pain. She saw a mare, an adult that looked just like the filly before her, except one of her front legs was made of wood.
Luna shook the thoughts clear. “What is your name?”
“Red Anjou,” the filly said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognise you. Why are you here?”
“I saw you were in need.” Luna settled on her stomach, bringing herself low down to Red Anjou. “This dream is a frightful one, for certain.”
Red Anjou blinked, and she peered out underneath Luna’s wing to where the bridge used to be. Only a few pillars of wood remained, just barely jutting up over the surface. “Oh. It’s… it’s this place.” She swallowed, and it was clear she tried to speak again, but something caught in her throat.
Luna followed her gaze, sorting through the memories lent to her. “You have had this dream before. Reliving a memory.” She reached out with a hoof, covering one of Red Anjou’s. She turned it over, and the lower half was replaced with a wooden facsimile.
Red Anjou nodded. The oilskin grew a little tight around her barrel, digging into her skin. “Yes…” She looked down at her hoof and shut her eyes tight as pain washed through her. Pain that Luna felt, making her wince.
Luna lifted her head and peered through the feathers of her wings at Somnambula. The pegasus’ face was twisted into concern, a deep frown marred into her gorgeous features. Luna blushed, as much from acknowledging Somnambula’s looks as she realised she was being watched and judged.
“You have struggled since, only recently finding somewhere to work and stay, is that right?” Luna asked. She knew the answer, somehow, but it felt wrong to simply tell Red Anjou her own life. Luna saw a stallion in her mind’s eye, taking her in and caring for a young mare.
“Yes,” the growing filly answered, growing into the same young mare before Luna’s eyes. “Some fella took me in and gave me work. It’s… It’s hard with only three hooves and all, but he’s patient. Better than everypony else I’ve met.”
Luna smiled, and a soft little laugh rose through her throat. As Red Anjou looked up into Luna’s face, the rainfall quietened down. “It sounds as though your luck turned around. As I understand it he is more than just patient.”
Red Anjou blushed. “I suppose, sure. He’s given me my own space, lets me take time off when the leg aches too much. I swear to Luna—Uh, beg your pardon your majesty—he really does like me. I just… worry sometimes.”
Luna nodded, and the stallion briefly flit across her mind. A flash of his own dreams, his own anxiety over the mare. The details she was presented with disturbed her, but not for their contents. “Concern like yours might seem silly, but it is natural and valid. That said, I firmly believe you are right to trust him.”
“You really think so?” Red Anjou asked. The rain had let up entirely now, and the clouds let more light down. Somnambula noticed at the same time as Luna, glancing upward. “I guess… I don’t know, really. If you say so, then maybe it is true.”
Luna didn’t move, aside from folding her wings back. She glanced over to Somnambula now that she was unobstructed. “That is ultimately for you to decide. It may take some time, but I hope you find comfort in what I have said.”
The mare looked down at the mud, drawing circles with her good hoof. “I… I’ll try, Princess. Thank you.”
With that, Luna nodded and rose. She turned to Somnambula once more, both their faces neutral and serious, and with a small flash the bubble around them burst.
Again they were left in the dreamscape, their bodies translucent and embers exposed. Only then did Luna allow herself to smile, broad and smug. Somnambula didn’t smile back.
“That was very dangerous. Have you even practiced that before now?”
“I took a risk, I admit, but ‘twas not a thoughtless one.” Somnambula didn’t look convinced, frowning still and eliciting a sigh from Luna. Luna looked away. “I will keep a close eye on Red Anjou over the coming while, but I am fully confident”—she turned back to Somnambula, her gaze ironclad—”that I made the best choice. She will remember our conversation and be forced to think upon it.”
“If you are certain…” The pegasus sighed. “Maybe I am just defensive over the art. It is not like I could stop you, anyway.” Somnambula huffed out a short little laugh.
Anger tugged down at the corner of Luna’s lips, but Somnambula spoke up again before she could reply.
“I will be absent for a while, perhaps a week or two, perhaps for a month, it’s hard to say. Star Swirl has asked for my assistance and it is hard to come here when travelling.”
Something ached in Luna’s chest, and a tingling coldness filled her hooves. “I see,” she said flatly. “I would ask, but I suspect you or Star Swirl will avail me of the events after the fact.” Her exterior cooled, taking on the neutral, regal posture she had been taught for years.
Somnambula sighed and drifted over the remains of the night terror. “I am sorry, little moth,” she said, and she smiled. That damned grin made the ache stronger as the realisation of its absence hit Luna. “You will have to survive without me for a while, and I am confident you will. You are beyond my talents already.” Their faces came close, almost touching, the ghost of a breath passing over Luna’s nose. She wondered if they even could touch in this realm. “I hope this little experiment works and you have good news to share when I return.”
Luna had her question answered in the form of a kiss to her cheek, and the ache in her chest blossomed.
The constellations that Luna used to navigate the dreamscape were skewed, and the cluster she had used to mark east was too far to the right, putting her off course and away from her current watch. It took her some time to realise as the collection of dreamers beneath her felt off, and that the feeling wasn’t just in her belly.
Banking to her left, Luna flew toward the dreamscape’s ‘north’. She had to guess where she was now, estimating off the bubbles of unconsciousness she could see. She was working on her own dead reckoning, albeit it was unreliable as not every pony dreamt or even slept. Yet with her entire world, her entire self out of sorts, it was all she had to work with.
It took her some time to find the dreams she wanted. There were few bad dreams tonight, just as there had been in the days since Somnambula left, allowing her to descend on a familiar bunching of them and specifically to two abstract streams of thought slowly loosed into Luna’s realm. She neared, and after steeling herself, let one expand. One she was familiar with.
Luna was without shape before entering the dream, and as it forced itself around her, she guided it into a dark blue moth. As the world coalesced, it took her a scant few seconds to recognise where she was. A river, its banks low and calmly babbling by. A bridge, made of a mix of new and old timber and reinforced with stone. A tree, under which a pair of ponies sat, and behind them an entire farmstead that perhaps did not belong, but was not out of place.
Settling into the lower branches of the tree, Luna watched. She recognised the curly pink mane of Red Anjou as she lay on her front with a blanket between her and the dirt. Beside her sat a green stallion, a wide brimmed straw hat hiding his mane from Luna, though she knew who he was. Both ponies stared at each other, and Luna felt their smiles rather than saw them. Their hooves touched—one wooden, but now painted a bright red—and a spark ran through them as it did through Luna.
As the pair shuffled closer, both their faces now hidden beneath the hat, that deep pang tugged at Luna’s chest once more. It hurt her knowing she would have to wait to share her revelations.
Then it occured to Luna that maybe she didn’t have to wait.
The little moth fluttered its wings and took off from the branch, then burst forth from the dream. Luna’s ember flared, shining like a lantern, and she took shape around it, hooves and wings and head becoming solid and real. She flew south, perhaps not directly, and she arced across the dreamscape like a shooting star.
Luna looked down below, watching the minds beneath her. Since her time with Red Anjou she had begun to see small details of their lives and psyches. Enough that she didn’t pass into a dream unprepared. It also served to confirm that she was headed in the right direction, toward that dream where they first met.
That was when Luna slowed, then stopped. Certainly she could identify vaguely where she was by the memories of the dreamers around her, but Somnambula may not be there, not to mention she would need to scour each dream to recognise a pony she had yet to visit. All that was assuming the pegasus was dreaming in the first place.
Frustration filled the alicorn and she shut her eyes, closing out the stars and nebula around her. All this flying, this uncertainty of where she was, what dreamers she could help.
Then Luna thought of her second night with Somnambula, pulling Mount Avalon closer to them both. She could expand others’ dreams, and they could then command their dreams themselves.
What’s to say she couldn’t do the same for the world between?
With her eyes still shut, Luna thought of every dreamer, every star and nebula and wisp and ember and she pulled on them all.
She felt nothing.
So she pulled again, picturing each dream as… books. Ordered by location, organised neatly. She pictured the gaps between them where some dreamers were absent. Borrowed…
No. That wouldn’t work as it was. Dreams weren’t borrowed, they were lived in and used as spaces. Like homes and houses.
Like the rooms of a castle.
And like that, Luna’s hooves settled on flagstones beneath. When her eyes opened, she found herself in a corridor lined with doors as far as she could see. Wood and stone and metal, some pristine and new, others rusting, almost falling off their hinges.
This still didn’t help her, but Luna knew what would.
Another thought, and the doors slid along the walls. She turned to face the wall to her right and an arched, peach tinted wooden door settled before her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Luna stepped through.
She found herself inside a traveler’s carriage, one a little too small for her princessly proportions, though she only brushed the walls and ceiling. Below her, head on her forelegs, sat Somnambula, staring at the wick of an oil lamp. She then looked up and met Luna’s gaze.
“Little moth?” asked Somnambula, the words creaking out. She sat up straight. “What are you doing here…?”
“It worked.”
Violet eyes squinted at Luna, and Somnambula’s memories shot through Luna’s mind. Luna suppressed the urge to shake her head, not wanting to intrude on these specific memories, but she was nonetheless forced to rewatch their last conversation in brief. While she tried to shrug off the discomfort of spying on Somnambula’s memories, the pegasus’ eyes opened wide.
“Red Anjou…? That is fantastic news!” Somnambula leapt to her hooves, knocking the lamp over. To Luna’s confusion it didn’t spill its contents nor did the flame burn the wood or rug. “You’ll have to tell me more when I…” She trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “How did you get here? I hadn’t told you where I was headed...”
With a laugh, Luna lifted a hoof and gently pressed Somnambula’s mouth shut. Neither pony said a word as Luna looked over to the impossible state of the lamp, and a smirk broke across Somnambula’s face, aimed back at Luna.
“I found a way,” Luna said.
“You keep impressing me.”
“What sort of princess would I be if I did not impress?” Leaning in, Luna lowered herself from the ceiling and put both their faces close together. She desperately wanted to feel Somnambula’s breath. Not the version in a dream, but to actually feel her.
Luna swallowed down her nerves.
“Truth be told, I missed you,” the princess said, her voice coming out calm despite how shaky it felt. “Like with my scheme with Red Anjou, I was driven by impulse to you tonight. It has thus far paid off.”
This time Somnambula laughed. The deep, hearty chuckle settled Luna’s heart, and while the ache lessened, still pulled her toward the pegasus.
“I hope this chance does too.”
Their lips brushed together in the briefest kiss. The odd feeling of touching something that was not there teased Luna, frustrating her desire even further. Somnambula’s lack of reaction only carried that feeling further.
Luna tried to swallow down her nerves again, but this time they stuck fast in her throat, frayed and delicate.
“I wish you hadn’t done that.”
And then they unraveled.
Somnambula gently shoved Luna away. “I’m sorry, little moth—Princess Luna.” The pegasus tore her eyes from Luna, and held a hoof against her own chest. “I mean no disrespect. I just… Oh sand and wind...” Her eyes misted, so she shut them tight with a hoof over them and drew in a deep breath. She held it for a scant few moments. “I am glad you feel the way you do. I had even hoped for it, yet I am not certain I can return the feeling now.”
A chill passed through the carriage, and the lantern dimmed. “You mean to tell me no? After building me up, you tell me thou cannot?” She stepped forward, staring down at Somnambula and ignoring the stinging in her eyes.
Somnabula shrank down, her wings uncoupled from her side. “I mean to say not yet.”
Luna’s next step stalled.
“I… I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Somnambula continued. “Recent events changed things, and I may not…” With a shake of her head, Somnambula briefly roused her wings before snapping them back to her sides. “One more week. If all goes right, that is when I will see you again, my little moth.” A laugh like molasses filled Luna’s mind. “I’ll make sure to see you outside your dreams.”
Not a word more was said between them. All the rage and sadness and love sloshed through Luna’s veins, but she stowed them all. She could wait one more week.
Luna waited on the balcony overlooking the castle courtyard. She watched her guards as they practiced their drills. She watched the staff work at the fringes, vying to avoid being seen. She watched the road leading up to the castle, dry of any travellers or carts, save for one earlier in the morning bringing fresh fruits and vegetables.
“You will catch a tan if you stay there too long, you know.”
Luna looked over to Celestia. Politeness forced a breath into Luna’s lungs, but her mood stole her words. She turned back to the road, letting her emotions simmer below.
“It’s been over a month.” Celestia stood beside her sister, following Luna’s gaze.
Only two weeks, Luna corrected privately.
“Has it?” Luna asked aloud instead. “I had thought it had been but a day.”
A long sigh passed through Celestia. “Luna, please…”
Propriety and image didn’t let the sisters be too close most days. During the waking hours of most ponies, Celestia chatted up nobles and merchants and foreign dignitaries, and she always maintained a polite distance from everypony around her.
Luna was glad she didn’t have to worry about that now as Celestia leaned against her, resting her head atop Luna’s. Though they only had a few years between them, Celestia already towered well above Luna, and privately Luna adored that meant she could hide in her sister’s cherry blossom mane.
“I think we have to accept he might be gone, Lulu.”
Luna shook her head, pressing her eyes and snout into Celestia’s neck. “Stubborn old…” She drew in a breath, steadying her shaky voice. “I refuse to believe that. He must be waylaid somewhere, unable to get word out to us…”
One of Celestia’s wings unfurled, wrapping itself around Luna. “Maybe,” Celestia said, pulling Luna closer to her side, “but do you really believe he could be kept quiet for so long? Maybe mentioning the issue of age is perhaps a little… impolite, but it’s a possibility if he was travelling alone.”
“He wasn’t alone.”
“Pardon?”
With a sigh, Luna pulled herself away from the comforting, radiant warmth of her sister’s neck. “He was travelling with one other at least. A mare named—” The word stuck in her throat, and Luna wasn’t sure how to explain everything she knew, everything that had happened over those nights previously. Stars above, she hadn’t actually thought about the fact she had bared her heart to another pony so willingly until she was confronted with the reality of potentially explaining herself.
She shook, a leg trembling under her as realisation set in. She had tried searching for Somnambula again, trying to find her dreams, but could not find her. Nor could she find Star Swirl’s nor any of the other adventurers’.
“Lulu.“ Celestia adjusted her position, allowing herself to turn toward Luna and using her wing to support the shaking mare’s weight. “Luna, what’s wrong?”
Luna couldn’t answer. Her heart hurt, a moth longing for its flame and convinced it would never find another. The frustration, the sorrow and grief, it all brought her to tears. Thrusting her face back into Celestia’s neck, Luna made a vow to herself.
A single grey-blue pegasus mare sat at a café set at one of the higher points in the east, where it overlooked Canterlot and the royal palace in the distance. The streets below were packed. Not for any major celebration, though a great many of those were to be had, but simply because of what the city was. An economic hub, a cultural center, and the political capital of Equestria.
The mare wasn’t entirely used to that idea. She was too used to the city being at best a small town, despite a century of development that she had seen and a millennia more she had not.
The café was one of a number of buildings practically carved out of the mountainside, though it was hard to tell due to its whitewash and the rounded, cerulean roof that capped it. From under the awning on the second floor’s balcony, she stared into her tea, looking into the brown-black water. The midday sun bounced off the walls and the awning’s scaffolds, casting streaks and specks of white into the drink.
She had been waiting for some time that morning, and was on her third full cup, the remains of breakfast on a plate beside it. A few more minutes or hours would hardly impact her.
Eventually her drink reflected something peach fluttering above, and the mare lifted her head.
“Hello, little moth.”
With a level expression, The grey-blue mare looked at the newcomer as she landed. “Hello, Somnambula.” She gestured with a wing to a chair opposite, and Somnambula followed, filling the seat. Another gesture summoned one of the workers, and he filled a cup for Somnambula before disappearing back inside. A brief look of surprise crossed his face when the curtains seemingly shut by themselves behind him.
The two mares sat in silence. Somnambula watched the grey-blue mare sip her drink, and the mare pretended she didn’t enjoy it as she watched the city.
Somnambula was the first to break it.
“Luna, I—”
“Mildew. Call me Mildew here, please.”
Somnambula stared at Mildew for a moment, then nodded. “Why Mildew?”
“It is unassuming, and I like the quiet when I can during the day. Ponies fuss over me too much these days.” Mildew sipped her drink again.
Somnambula gave another nod. “...I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
Clearly this wasn’t the reaction Somnambula expected, and she frowned down at her drink. “You’re angry. That is… reasonable.”
“I am.” Another sip. “I also grieved and mourned but it never quite put that anger to rest.” She set the cup down, turning to Somnambula. “You made a promise you could not keep. You made me wait so, so long, and then I had to live with that for a hundred years more.”
Somnambula kept her head low, biting her lip.
“I am also relieved to see you safe and sound.”
Somnambula’s head snapped up to Mildew’s smile. Somnambula didn’t return it, but simply held her gaze.
“What do we do from here?” Somnambula asked. “I feel like I should have an answer. I usually give other ponies advice.” The laugh that followed was lighter, nervously jovial, but it still had the same endless sweetness to it. It made Mildew want to put some sugar in her tea and ruin it, so she did.
“That all depends,” said Mildew, sipping sweetened tea. It tasted off.
Somnambula looked down at her own cup again, and Mildew sighed.
“You’re going to leave again, aren’t you?”
Somnambula nodded. “Yes, but...” She at last took a drink of her own tea, swallowing down a large sip. “But it won’t be like last time. I want to visit the world as it is now, to see how my home has changed. This time, I want to do this right.” Settling the cup down, she leaned forward and rested her head on her hooves, grinning at Mildew. “I want you to come with me. I’m sure you can make the time and leave your work to Celestia and the Elements.”
“You know it is not as simple as that,” Mildew grumbled, “and I still have my nightly duties besides…”
“Then we can do that together!” With a glance over her shoulder, Somnambula spotted Canterlot’s main train station. Crowds of ponies piled in and flowed out as locomotives pulled in and out. “Travel is much easier and quicker these days, and we wouldn’t need to rush—”
“No.”
Somnambula deflated, and she turned her head down, her forehead to her hooves now. “I just wish to make it up to you.”
Silence reigned between them, and Mildew stared at Somnambula. The urge to tell her to leave, to do as she pleased and damn whoever else that fell for her, but she knew that wasn’t fair. She wanted no part in the life of someone who had abandoned her, but Mildew knew it wasn’t Somnambula’s choice. Against her anger and the confused and renewed grief, she made a decision and stood over the forlorn pegasus.
“Stay,” Mildew said.
“Pardon?” Somnambula lifted her head again that day, a little hopeful glint in her faded violet eyes.
“Stay, at least for a season or two.” She pointed to the palace with a hoof. “We have rooms to spare in a castle so grand, but my chambers are enough for us to catch up. Meanwhile the world beyond will still be there; as you say, we have allies aplenty to keep it safe.” She sucked in a breath and held it as she looked aside, once more to the city’s populace. Many might see her here, but she made her mind up.
“I don’t know if we can rekindle what we had,” said Mildew—Luna as she turned back to Somnambula, her illusion now sloughing off in little winged motes. Somnambula’s head dipped by the slightest amount, but she kept her gaze on Luna nevertheless. “But I would like to try again.” She chuckled, putting her size and depth into the laugh and remembering the first time she heard something similar from Somnambula. She wanted to hear it again, and knew she might when the pillar smiled at her then.
Like the radiant moon, Luna beamed. “I would like to be your little moth once more.”
