Chapters Journey to the House of Dust
I. Luck of the Rose
(0) In the thirtieth winter of his life, Marcus Dewstone fell into a cold sleep. The peculiars of his ailment were unknown to his doctors and nurses. The unexplainable slumber of the ailing man tossed his body into a storm of worsening conditions until those beloved close to him were forced to face his possible end. Like a boat carried on the slow tide of a nightshone river, the mind of Marcus Dewstone ebbed outward into the vast plains of lands beyond the living.
(1) At first, there was naught but sound drifting through the dark. The man heard music played upon a shore, far and soft, inviting to the lost traveler. A lyre, followed in tune by a harmonious gentle voice, carried on the wind as his boat carried itself to a long-forgotten cove.
(2) At the mouth of the river the boat came to a stop. The wooden edges splintered at the touch of solid ground. The body of Marcus collapsed into the rising tide as his eyes shot open and his mouth swallowed sea foam. He fought to the surface and crawled to shore with clothes soaked in the water of some unknown place.
(3) To ease the burden of silence surrounding him, Marcus spoke aloud. His words held the weight and cadence of millennia before his own time. “What manner of place is this which steals my breath and chills my bones? Only days before I was living a life closing in on the turn of the year two thousand. Now I find myself stuck in a land where whispers call to me amidst windswept harmonies? Even some of my thoughts appear as dusted old languages swept under the rug to be discovered by the cleaner of empty homes. Who did I anger and what folly did I perform to be cast into a place so far from home? For there are the known lands of my people, the forgotten lands beyond that and where I am, in the realm of that which never was and yet is. I sense something in my spirit where the ache of long life fades into the final sunset upon the crystal shores. I feel in my heart the mark of a fallen one. But where did I fall?”
(4) Up on a hill, a voice cried out in concern. “Hello out there! I heard the lament of one who is lost amidst a stranded shore! Who are you and where might you be?”
(5) Marcus cried out in joy. “Madam, I am here! Upon the shore with a broken boat! My name is Marcus and I have become lost in this place far from home.”
(6) The voice called closer. Its sound was smaller and more comforting than the speech Marcus was used to. “I still cannot see you, but do not fret! I will find you shortly and we will make our way to others who can aid you in finding your home again. Tell me now, why were you stranded upon a shore? What do you remember?”
(7) Marcus saw the remains of his boat fall into the water and float out to the sea. He found himself cursing the ocean for having swallowed his only means of transport off the moonlit shore. “Dear lady, I remember little and wonder much. I was beset by an unknown illness and bedridden while cold sleep embraced me. It felt as though the ocean itself poured into my mind and submerged all the things I held dear, for now I cannot recall much of anything beyond the moment of my fall!” Marcus caught the word and held still for a second. “I do remember a fall of some sort, but I cannot for the life of me understand how any ailment can thrust one person from bed to beach in less than a day!”
(8) Movement in the trees caught his attention as a gasp filled the air. “Dear Marcus, do not move, for I see something shocking and alien standing upon the beach somewhere near you! I heard your voice, but I cannot see you, but this creature is clear to me, as is its foul countenance and menacing appearance.”
(9) Marcus froze with the weight of the warning and only moved his eyes to peer around the edges of the shore. The light of the moon shrouded the land in a cool glow of blue night. The beach, with glittering sand stretching from end to end, held no living being save for the man.
(10) The female voice cut the air again and nearly made Marcus jump at its first sound. “I can see a little clearer now. I will tell you what this creature looks like so you may run and run fast upon seeing it. Its head hair is matted and curled over its eyes like a spider grasping a skull. The arms are long and gangly as though the heavens themselves looked down and pushed them as far towards the earth as possible to punish them for ever grasping the sky. The hooves of the creature are black with a white strike across them, possibly scorched clean to the bone by some nefarious fire dancing. The legs are saggy with blue-black skin falling from the waist down. And the chest is the most horrific! It bears the emblem of some sort of tribal being with bulbous eyes and a head like a mushroom threatening to engulf its very own body!”
(11) Marcus heard and understood every word. As the description moved on, his brow narrowed further and further into a look of sheer annoyance. He sighed and opened his mouth to speak. “My lady…”
(12) “IT HAS STOLEN YOUR VOICE!”
(13) “MADAM!” Marcus yelled. “I am NOT a foul and menacing beast! I am a MAN! A human man, with matted hair thanks to the maw of the ocean threatening to engulf me. My arms are long because I am TALL and my shoes are black with the white check of a company logo emblazoned upon them. My jeans are NOT saggy skin! They are Levi’s Loose Fit! And this image upon my chest is not a tribal being of malevolence, but a sweet and innocent girl! Her name is Bubbles and she is a Powerpuff Girl! ”
(14) There was much silence after the proclamation of Marcus.
(15) Finally, the lady spoke up. Her voice was apologetic as though she were the sun apologizing to the moon for having risen too early. “I offer my greatest and sincerest apologies, dear creatur…human! I am not familiar with your kind and have made a grave error in misjudging your splendid and magnificent form! Far be it from me to criticize one so fetching and handsome as you! The sheen of your lovely mane has blinded my reason! And from this day forward, I will speak of nothing but the truest adoration for the sweet and innocent mushroom creature known as Bubbles!”
(16) Marcus knew of no greater flattery at the moment and tried not to unveil any further bits of his rage upon the false description of his favorite Powerpuff Girl. He counted to a number in his mind and nodded as though he had just forgiven a small child who had criticized his less than athletic appearance. Despite the fact that such an act had occurred more than once before, Marcus pulled his mind out of the past and thanked the fact he actually remembered something. He would express his gratitude to the lady later after pushing the anger out of his thoughts.
(17) The madam’s voice was now quivering in fear. “I find myself stuck between two decisions. For now we both know that you and I are not the same. You walk upon two legs, like a Diamond Dog, though your personality is nothing like their own. You are mostly hairless, like a northern dragon kin, but your temper is not flame-soaked. Your hooves are instead claws as though griffon, but you do not possess wings. And though you have named yourself human, I know nothing of your kind or what lies in your heart. Be you friend or foe? Honest or liar? I cannot know which!”
(18) Marcus did not grasp the entirety of all the lady had said, but his heart was of good character and compassionate. He sought to soothe her fears and sat down upon the sand. “My lady, I am no dog, nor dragon, nor griffon of any kind. Every one of those things you have mentioned sounds more dangerous than I. And though you know not of human, and have named three tough creatures, I am still ranked lowest in anger amidst them all. I cannot guess what you might be and though most would find such an encounter strange, I can only account for so much since my bedridden time at the hospital. Perhaps I have crossed a border through my injury and only now see the difference between us. I shall sit on the sand and await your approach. Should I stand before you allow it, you may run off and leave me here. But please help me, for I am lost and in need of a guide.”
(19) “A guide?” the lady said. “You poor alien creature! Well never fear, for a citizen of Equestria am I whose task it is to guide the flora to greater growth. I know the way spoken by plants all across this land and it is I who have often been said to hold the luck of the rose!”
(20) In all his lifetime, Marcus Dewstone had never seen a speaker who approached him upon four legs. Had he seen a horse in the farmland around his hometown casually hold a conversation with him, only to trot up to him and smile, his reaction would’ve been the same. But here, the madam’s countenance bore an expressive nature all its own. Compared to his shocked visage, the equine, a small pony, had a far greater range of facial expressiveness than even he could muster. Her mane and tail were a crisp crimson like the color of a flower seen through the droplets of morning rain. Her coat coloring was a subdued peach bordering on ivory with hints of vanilla-infused light red tones. Her eye hue mirrored the lively stems of blossoming plant life. She smiled and the flowers around her bloomed.
(21) “I am known as Roseluck, but you may call me Rose.” She held out a hoof. It was dusty brown, signaling the ground of the trials she had trod upon to arrive at the shore. “I am a citizen of Equestria and resident of the town of Ponyville.”
(22) Faced with a speaking equine, Marcus did the only thing he could think of. He held out his hand and felt the iron of her horseshoe in his palm. “I am Marcus Dewstone of Austin, Texas, and it is a pleasure to meet a friend in this wondrous new place.”
Journey to the House of Dust
II. Mother of Luster
(1) The cold sleep wanderer Marcus Dewstone and the mother of flora known as Roseluck spoke of each other’s similarities on their walk through the edge of the Everfree Forest. Though she was a pony in both name and manner, Marcus found infinite interest in the soft-spoken equine Rose.
(2) “I have never beheld a human before!” Roseluck’s excitement was contagious and Marcus mimicked her every positive gesture. “How do you walk upon two legs without falling over? Is there some sort of weighted system in your torso? Do you eat grass? Have you ever tasted grass? What’s it like breathing through such a small nose?”
(3) “Dear Rose, I am more than capable of handling my own balance issues. Humans are made to walk on two legs and I’ve never eaten nor tasted grass. My nose works quite well.” The wandering clouds of light bugs traced disappearing paths through the forest. Deer frolicked through the dark with eyes glowing bright from the light of the bulb bugs. The trees twisted in ways unnatural to Marcus and the way they swayed hinted of moving bodies always on the edge of his vision. Wherever there was light, the trees remained still. But in the dark shroud, their branches reached out and trunks became curved as though seeking to flee some unseen thing.
(4) Rose eyed her companion and the nearby plant life followed her lead. “Marcus, I am no expert on human emotion, nor do I understand the meaning behind the messages on your face. But you and I are very similar and I would detect fear upon you, like a blanket submerged in water and placed over your back. You are heavy in movement and your eyes lack focus. What ails your mind?”
(5) “Rose, before I came here I was bedridden thanks to an illness which was not identified. I cannot remember a time where such a thing occurred in my family, so that rules out my genetics. I was not doing anything I considered out-of-the-ordinary and my health, although not of peak physical condition, was adequate enough for my daily needs. Slowly I recall these details, but still nothing points to the cause of my sudden and inexplicable incapacitation. And now I am here, in a place that I cannot judge as authentic or merely hallucinatory. Tell me, has this ever happened before with any other visitor to your land?”
(6) “Poor Marcus! I cannot say that any other individual has found themselves lost in the land of Equestria. Perhaps it has happened before, but I was never aware of it. Yet there are those in this realm who would know the answers to your questions. I can think of one within the Everfree Forest who is rarely seen and often talked about by the denizens of this area. She is known as the Crystal Dam and she and the sire horse Sky Mountain have birthed seven gem stallions and mares which patrol the edges of our realm. Diamond Star, Ruby Sea, Sapphire Sky, Emerald Fire, Quartz Earth, Topaz Sun, and Meteor Moon are all children of the Crystal Dam and Sky Mountain.”
(7) “Perhaps your world is far different than my own in many respects, but the last time I checked, a meteor was not a gemstone.” Marcus spied a few glimmers of starshine high above the canopy in the Everfree Forest.
(8) “That is a very long and sad story. Let me be brief and say that it would be best not to mention it to the Crystal Dam once we arrive at her Midnight Grove. There is rumor that she is not Meteor Moon’s mother and it would sadden her thus to be reminded of the tale. Only she knows for sure, but she speaks not of it. And neither should you.”
(9) Marcus grunted at the thought of such a restriction. “Am I a small child that I must be told how to act in the presence of elders, be they human or otherwise? I should be but half my life span, at the very least, and yet I am facing death on a bed back home! Should my body still be born upon the blankets of the death watch ward, then my goals in life would be few and far between. I think now would be a good time to cast off limitation and pursue every avenue of life with the utmost vigor! No secret knowledge shall evade my sight and no wall shall stand in my way, for if I am dying, I shall exit life by making my mark upon this world or my own! Either way pleases me.”
(10) Rose stood in front of the human. Her eyes were narrowed and carried a spark of flame. “You would do well to remember when you told me you were no more dangerous than dog, dragon or griffon. But one who disrespects others for the sheer sake of amusement is dangerous still and far more conniving than the dog’s bite, the dragon’s breath or the griffon’s claw. For the speaking races of the world can carve deep trenches where careless tongues dare to tread. And remember still that you not only represent yourself, but me as well, and if you should cut the Crystal Dam so that she walks flawed in luster from thence forth, you will find yourself wandering the rest of this journey alone. For my plants are far more respectful in their humble beggings for water than you are thanks to your aforementioned pronouncement!”
(11) Marcus was taken aback from the tongue-lashing he had just received from the garden master. Without blade or claw, he had been cut cleanly through to the core of his arrogance. He felt a small part of the weight of his resentment fall off and watched the anger in Roseluck’s eyes through the clearing fog of his vision. He took a step back and watched her proceed one step forward without hesitation. It became clear to the man that though he may be in the company of a small pony folk, she was not without her own methods of protection.
(12) “Fiery and honest Rose, how do you grow so much with such high-reaching flames? I meant no offense to you, though my words were careless and ill-chosen. I apologize for having angered you and bringing forth the ire of one who works hard to grow goodness. I am merely upset at the state of my life and what remains left of the ticking clock counting down from that hospital bed. For I do not know if I am still there and seeing this through closed eyes, or if a hole opened beneath me in my slumber and cast me into the boat from which you found me. Be this my physical or mental trial, I am angered at the mystery of my sickness and wish to spite it dearly so that I may say I did not go into the night without a final word.”
(13) Rose’s features dropped their guard and all at once she was watching Marcus as though viewing a flower wilted by lack of rain. She shook her head. “Spite is not a path you should take, nor are any of the lesser emotions. I do not grow my garden in fits of fury and I certainly do not find fire as nourishing as the cool touch of a spring rain. Heavy emotions will drown you and fiery feelings will scorch any fertile thoughts you may have had. Too much rain is just as bad as too little. If you are indeed suffering greatly here or there where you say you may have left a second body, then know this: you will not find your way home by burning all the bridges in your path.”
(14) Roseluck walked into the darkness as Marcus’ contemplations guided him after her. He had never met one with such wisdom and in such a menial thing in his eyes. The man had never grown, nor partaken of any natural gardens, and all his food and nourishment were packaged, watered down, and preserved with cheap additions and nutrition cheaper still. His life back home consisted of acts upon various screens, whether at home with those across the world, or at a theatre with repetitions of action which grew more banal as time marched on. He was told what to do and where to go and what to think and how to act, but rarely did he break the cycle passed onto him by those who were also told what to do, where to go, what to think and how to act. He had little to claim his own, for even his understandings were hand-me-downs. And what small bits of rebellion he exhibited sometimes resulted in the cutting of the most precious of diamonds.
(15) “Oh Rose, grower of good things and speaker of truth! Hear me know and weep for me. I may have discovered the source, or perhaps one, of my unknown ailment.” The pony folk listened as they marched forward. “In my life there were but simple things given to me. Not simple like the spring rain or the light of the moon, but simple as in lack of meaning and substance. I was fed diluted nourishment and led to believe I was given all that I need. I drank from poisoned springs, made sour by carelessness of others who then passed such legacies on to me. I tried to claim much as my own, but all of my aspirations were air and escaped through my grasp. I believe my body and spirit have become sick of the life I lived. Not because it was bad, but because it was nothing! There was no risk, no gain, no passion for life beyond the vague recollections of my youth! I gave away too much and kept too little for myself. And now I am here, with only thirty years under me, but my body has decided that if nothing else is to be gained, then it should check out early and dramatically so that at least my death will have some importance!”
(16) And all at once Roseluck embraced Marcus as tears streamed from her eyes. Upon hitting the ground, the grass sprung upwards not out of nourishment from the tearfall, but out of concern for the sorrow-hearted gardener that was their mentor. “Such sadness! Such despair! Do not give up, dear Marcus! The Crystal Dam will have a heart that will feel your own pain and she will know what to do. Follow quickly and with great haste! We shall defeat your shadow of death yet!”
(17) They pushed forward and Marcus felt as though he had left the heaviness of his concern behind. With the embrace of Roseluck, she had planted a seed of hope in his scarred heart. Clever gardener! Always seeking fertile ground even when no one else could see it. He smiled and she noticed, though Marcus was partly disappointed his grin did not blossom nearby flowers like hers did. But then again, her name was Rose and she did smile thanks to him. To think that a small pony would make him laugh again!
(18) In the deepest dark of the forest they fell upon a grove cast in the radiance of celestial splendors. Star heart flowers twinkled in the moonlight as they felt the kiss of the sun shone down by their sister moon. Pools of unbroken mirror images reflected the lights twice, sending the blue night all throughout the Midnight Grove. So although it was dark, no shadow dwelled where the moonlight touched.
(19) And in the shelter of the everfall water oak stood the shimmering sight of the Crystal Dam. Fountains of pure water cascaded down onto her reflective form so that all around her was thrice cast back, where the second was in the water and the third was on her hard-edged crystal coat. She moved with grace and elegance, breaking no surface of water even with her hoof-falls. The everfall oak appeared to lose some of its luster when she moved out from under its umbrella of branch spouts. When she walked, the wind played a melody and Marcus remembered the quiet song he heard upon his arrival into the world, though he saw no lyre or instrument anywhere in the grove.
(20) The Crystal Dam stood with each hoof above unbroken water. The star hearts yearned for her touch but were content to shine their light upon her and see it reflected back. Rose knelt down and stared at the eyes of the mirror Dam. The garden pony motioned for Marcus to follow suit, though he was slow in doing so. He was too distracted by the glitter of color and light playing off the coat of the Crystal Dam. With mind absent of thought, he reached out towards her cheek. Roseluck nearly gasped in disbelief as the magnificent mare caressed his hand with her muzzle.
(21) The feeling was surprising to Marcus, for it was not hard like a mirror, but fluid as though living water stuck in the shape of armor. The double-form of his hand rippled under his touch and he spoke in amazement. “Is this what wonder feels like? Have I forgotten for so long that only now see what my heart has missed? Who is this lovely creature which has awakened the joy within me?”
(22) A voice rose through the silence of the forest, but the mouth of the mare in front of Marcus did not move. Instead, the form in the mirror pool matched the words with its own mouth and the man now knew why Roseluck looked down into the reflection within the water. “Many moons have passed since visitors last looked upon my hidden form. I have waited long years, tending the forest as child and the stars as mother.” The Crystal Dam nodded at the moon above her. “Many have sought my counsel and few have earned my friendship. Still less have caught my heart. What brings you, Roseluck, to my Midnight Grove? And who is this mysterious wanderer who walks upon two legs instead of four?”
(23) The rising tide of the moment caught Marcus in its grasp and he was eager to speak. He did not intend to cut off Roseluck’s response, but his enthusiasm was unmistakable. “Fair Crystal Dam, I have been washed ashore by an unseen event. I was once dying in a bed, but now am alive in this strange and wonderful land. Roseluck saved me upon my journey to shore, but now I am lost as to what to do next.”
(24) Roseluck stared in silence at her human companion and her eyes were chastising. The Crystal Dam, however, continued past the quiet. “You speak well, though too early, wanderer. I sense your strong heart, but I also see nervous action. Your impatience may be forgiven this time should you allow Rose her word in.”
(25) “Great Crystal Guardian, please forgive my eager acquaintance.” Roseluck tried not to stare at Marcus and instead focused on the mirror form and its minute movements. “His name is Marcus of the Dewstone. He was washed upon a shore and I mistakenly considered him foe upon first sight. However, his species is new to me and I soon learned of his near-death plight. He believes he has identified the source of his problem, though I am not so sure.”
(26) Marcus bit his tongue at Roseluck’s last words. He knew he had upset her, but to doubt his words was hurtful to his heart. What more had he to say to gain her trust? He remembered his promise not to bring up the question of Meteor Moon and re-considered what he should say.
(27) “Marcus of the Dewstone, listen carefully.” The words of the Crystal Dam were firm, but kind. “I sense your discomfort and the swell of emotion which has plagued you ever since your entry into this realm. You need not tell me more at this moment, for I believe your words will not escape unscathed from the anger which seethes in your heart. Instead, I have a task for you which will seek to bring clarity to your situation.” A sparkling path shone behind the Crystal Dam. Fireflies danced above it and thought themselves stars in the sky. “A child of mine by the name of Meteor Moon has taken up residence in the deepwood home of an Everfree Forest dweller. His heart burns as does yours and he has scorched a trail of broken hearts and bruised bones all throughout the land. He will not listen to me and treats my words as though they were fire in his mind. This sickens my heart so and I yearn to embrace my child once again. If you are to seek my counsel in any matter, you must first prove you have the peace of mind to soothe the wounded heart, for if you can quench the flames of fury residing within Meteor Moon, then you will know the way to finding calm within yourself. May the luck of the rose be with you.”
(28) The firefly path danced in Marcus’ vision. “Majestic mare, I respect you, but I have not yet accepted this task.”
(29) “I know.” The Crystal Dam spoke with finality. “Go now.”
Journey to the House of Dust
III. The Dance of Reason and Revolt
III. The Dance of Reason and Revolt
(1) The canopy of the Everfree Forest loomed over the human and pony wanderers. Marcus reflected on the mirrored words of the Crystal Dam which had entranced him only an hour before.
(2) “Roseluck, I seek to understand this world, but there are things I have seen which turn my thoughts in ways which cause me to struggle with reason. I cannot explain the liquid-skin coat of the Crystal Dam or her reflection talking when her own mouth remained still as though statue. Reflections are simply light bouncing off of mirrored surfaces, so how can a living creature exist in the water’s face and above it simultaneously? It defies all sense of logic and reason!”
(3) The garden pony Roseluck hesitated and kept her eyes averted throughout the fullness of her response. “There are many wonders present in my world, dear traveler. Reason is for that which we know and wonder is for all we don’t. To know something undoubtedly takes great confidence, though I have seen some express this sometimes with a bit of arrogance.” Marcus did not catch the moment Rose stole a glance at him before she continued. “For lives change without warning, as you well know from your sudden disposal into this realm which I call home.”
(4) Marcus evoked the memory of his once-normal life and found he could see the past clearer than before. The horizon of thought contained to grow and he saw further back and contemplated farther forward while he moved higher in his understanding. “My vantage point has grown by leaps and bounds. I see more of my past, with discoveries of memory floating back to me as I floated to shore in that rickety vessel. I approach my thoughts with calm, hoping not to disturb the waters around them lest they break apart and drown once more. I can see what I once knew. My life was a mundane chore of daily habits repeated in endless cycles over the course of the years. I used to find solace in intellectual pursuits, but the grind of time stopped polishing my character and began to erode my compassion with forced decay. Too many times I was presented with challenges in life which seemed trivial at first, but accumulated in strength as they piled up with unresolved results. Small chisels of self would occur. A bit of integrity lost here. A pinch of honesty compromised there. Even the occasional argument where I walked away only to feel the most miniscule of weights added to my chest. Each day survival, but for what? I was given everything! I could say I earned little, though I did feel accomplishment often and encouragement sometimes. My achievements amounted to changes in status, but very little gain of self. What do you make of all this, Rose?”
(5) The pony was attentive enough, though her thoughts often appeared elsewhere. Marcus made note of this while she spoke. “Human, I have many years of experience in various aspects of life and its tribulations. I cannot say I have lived the same as you. I am a gardener and shop owner. I spend time in quiet contemplation with creations which speak softly and yet form strong roots. I nurture my garden and then sell those who’ve reached full maturity so others may form strong bonds with them. For at some point, the flower outgrows its vessel and must be planted elsewhere lest its safe walls crack from the stress of its own growth.”
(6) “That is an excellent summation of what you do, and though I find comfort in your lessons taught by green thumb, or hoof as this case my be, I wish to know more about your past, your experiences and who you are. I find myself lucky to have been found by you upon my arrival to this realm of Equestria.”
(7) “No doubt you do, traveler.” Roseluck waited long enough for Marcus to made note of the fact that this was the third time she did not use his name. “But allow me to propose a question: in your world, with your trivialities and daily chores, do you find it necessary to speak out of turn and challenge those in authority over you? What about your friends? Do you question them and set them ill-at-ease when speaking about your desires to pursue your own ambitions regardless of their counsel? I would have you think about this because I find myself increasingly in the company of one whose wisdom seems more like stark rebellion and less like the knowledge of a world I’d want to know.”
(8) “Must I apologize for all my actions? Roseluck, may I remind you that less than twenty-four hours ago, I was contemplating my own mortality and what remained of my future? As far as I know, I am still dying! Though my body moves enough to walk along this newfound path, I still feel the beating of my heart and its worry that perhaps I may not see another dawn, be it in this world or my own. When all I amounted to arose from following others and remaining silent only to be caught at the end with nothing to claim my own, how can you ask of me to continue that similar and dangerous path? I was once quiet, but now speak to learn in the last hours. I was once agreeable, but now seek to break the cage and free myself from the well-worn path of others who march blindingly off cliffs! I am at my cliff, dear Rose! I stare into the face of eternity and find its multitude of thinkers, discoverers and wayfarers all look past me in disinterest for my lack of worth! And though my struggles may be abrasive to others who climb with me, I am not here to push you away or discount your wisdom in my path through the shadow of the awaiting abyss. I have not cast off all that I am just so that I may see what the opposing paths hold. I too carry my past with me, and the compassion, though worn, is still present and stubborn. I am a better person than you know and I hope to reveal this to you soon so that your mind be at-ease with me, regardless of whether I be agreeable or dissident.”
(9) “You ask a lot of me, Marcus. Your intellect is strong, and I do believe you were once different than you are now, but do not allow the approach of death to change who you are. And what of this talk of death? You act as though your fate were already decided! Despite whether you truly walk the final path or are just suffering from a life of quiet desperation, you must not lose hope. Many times have I brought back the wilted into the light to see them blossom forth with second breath! I did not accomplish this by challenging all my time-tested methods. I simply found out what the flower was missing and supplied its lack. Why alter all when only one change will suffice?”
(10) Marcus had no answer for the knowledgeable mare and the two traveled forward into the heart of the Everfree. Roseluck’s lead passed by various curiosities, including a field of blue flowers she described as Poison Joke. Marcus was careful to touch nothing Rose did not already encounter and learned of the flora and fauna and its dangerous ever-shifting control. She spoke of beasts composed of timber with stout bodies and resilient constitutions who would pursue the lost with nightmarish precision. There were small insects of parasitic quality which would divide thrice and ravage entire towns. Still she mentioned a hidden pool of water where image of one’s self would arise from the depths and seek to overrun one’s life. The last detail caught Marcus’ attention and he contemplated if the Crystal Dam’s speaking reflection was somehow connected to the mysterious mirror pond.
(11) At last they beheld a great house carved into the body of a living tree. No illumination resided within and scatterings of debris littered the area. Small craters ran the edge of the home and scorched edges lined all sides of the house. Most puzzling was the presence of an otherworldly sphere hovering silently above the top of the house’s canopy line. It rotated slowly and would’ve easily been mistaken for the moon in the sky to one who glanced from a distance. However, the presence of the first and true moon still hung high in the night and this second smaller body gave no explanation of its miniscule mimicry.
(11) Roseluck was the first to speak. “By the powers that be…I have never seen such a dazzling display of fallen celestial body! Do you see the sparkles of color hidden in each crater upon the moon’s face? It is as though gems were caught under the surface of each impact site. And its sheer size! It must be no more than three hundred feet in diameter! Look closely, Marcus, and notice how the floating spectacle contains its own gravity. Small objects appear to be floating close its surface and move in a pattern around the deeper craters. Why, there are even trees locked in its heavenly embrace! Oh, the poor things cannot root themselves and shift sideways in perpetual momentum. I wonder if any animals are stuck in its gravitational embrace?”
(12) A booming voice fell a tree near Marcus and Roseluck. A cloud of nesting birds rose up in a display of a living shockwave from the nearby foliage. The two travelers startled and glanced around in confusion. “You would do well to wonder, small creatures. For you are in the company of a terrible and angry dweller of the Everfree Forest. Be gone and leave me in peace or I shall find more expedient ways of tossing you asunder!”
(13) Marcus looked to Roseluck whose expression was aghast in terror and disbelief. His heart steadied and he looked around for the source of the ominous warning. “Oh great and powerful one, you really do impress us with your presence and expertise at tree-falling. Never before have I been in the company of so magnetic a personality! But we fail to recognize you. Show us your face so that we may converse on a more personal level.” Marcus was unsure if the sincere inquiry was more prominent or if his sarcasm held greater effect. He silently chastised himself for letting his natural defense against fear get the better of him. Roseluck seemed too terrified to comment on any of it.
(14) “Oh strange upright walker, I cannot decide if I should laugh at your outburst or hurl you into the sky for your sheer audacity! You, whose power equates to no more than wit and sarcasm, dare to tempt one far superior to you in every respect? You are far luckier than you realize that I’ve grown bored of my isolation and would rather speak first and destroy later. But no mistake. One more sign of disrespect and your crushed remains will tell all of the mistake you made when you challenged Meteor Moon!”
(15) Roseluck was livid when her face spun to meet Marcus. The tree had shocked him, and Meteor Moon’s threat was intimidating, but Rose’s expression of pure rage at that exact moment was sure to give Marcus some unsettling nightmares. She worked hard to contain her voice at a volume the angry gem stallion hopefully would not hear. “Are you truly full of foolishness or do you just enjoy the feeling of complete inadequacy? Why do you persist in opening your mouth when all which comes out is simply meant to agonize and shock those around you? Is your life worth that little that you threaten the safety of your companions to no end? I cannot believe that anyone would spend any amount of time thanks to your constant persistence in endangering my life and my respect at every turn! I’m starting to hope that Meteor Moon throws you into the sun or whichever place will be effective enough in turning your arrogance to ash!”
(16) Marcus had no words to respond to the tongue-lashing he had just received. There was a great rushing of sound as a crater on the far top of the small moon erupted into a blinding fit of fire and dust. The floating debris contained around the edge of the celestial body blew outward, reached high into the sky and then fell back down onto its surface in a hypnotic display of warring gravity between the Earth and the Meteor’s moon. The clouds of dust cleared and there stood the shadow of a seething stallion of night. He walked forward through the sky and showed he needed not the ground to carry his majestic and terrifying form…
