North by Northwest

I swoop low over the treetops of Equestria, breathing deeply of the air which whips past me. It is a beautiful night... one I intend to take full advantage of. It is not every night that the sky is this clear. They are closest when we can see them clearly.

I fly over the home of a sleeping pony, digging into the pouch at my side and pulling out a hoofful of dust. I throw it over the home, watching closely what shape the dust falls into. I see them flare briefly, illuminating nine distinct dots. A triangle forms the head, a line for the neck, two more triangles for the wings, and one final triangle for the tail.

Phoenix’s life-giving glow is visiting the dreams of these ponies tonight. Perhaps an expectant mother dreams of her filly. Maybe an elderly pony is flaring for one last time before his light goes out. I am thankful I saw this glimpse into the home, at any rate. These ponies will not bring another into the world alone, nor will they need to die without others to keep them company, on this night.

The sprinkling of the next home I fly over reveals another rough diamond, this time with more stars branching from all but the highest star, with an additional star branching from the bottom-most star to form a leg.

Camelopardalis smiles upon these ponies tonight. I envision a great journey that one is dreaming of, a mighty trek across the lands of Equestria, full of hardship and trials and ultimately ending in a discovery and happiness.

Who am I, really, to perform such acts? Am I the chosen of the stars, fated to see ponies to their sweet dreams at night? Am I a twister of fates, whose very motions with her hooves decide the futures of thousands every single night? A pony whose very presence maintains stability in this war-torn nation, whose absence would snap the final tenuous thread holding so many ponies to sanity?

Or am I just a pony following in her mother’s footsteps?

Probably the latter. I haven’t my mother’s gift of dream-walking, so this is all I can do. She is too preoccupied to perform such mundane and exhausting duties. While what I do is not critical in the rebellion against Black Cat, it is just as important to the ponies I pass over. Without me, their minds would be full of darkness and despair, and they may give in altogether.

I bring them a single ray of light, a reminder that not all hope has yet been lost. That, to me, is just as important as slinging a spell.

Some of the oldest members of the rebellion have told me of an Equestria that still had hope without me, an Equestria in which Black Cat was not even a whispered name. This omen of bad luck was known only by two, and they feared every day for his return, but they never truly worried. Until that day.

On that same day, hope seemed to vanish for Equestria. The Elements of Harmony were broken, sent back to the princesses with their tails between their legs and one of their number missing. Nopony agrees on what happened to Rainbow Dash. Some say she abandoned her Element and her fellow ponies, retreating when she saw Black Cat’s power, but that she now feels remorse and came back to strike him in his moment of weakness. Some say she was killed fighting him, and she’s now a zombie in his army. Still others say she is his mistress and lover, so great is her lust for power. All the rumors agree that she’s still alive and somewhere in the tower now.

As for the other Elements, well... just like our hope, they disappeared. Many rumors abound about where the remaining Elements of Harmony went; few whisper of death. Nopony wants them to die.

Princess Twilight Sparkle, the prolific Element of Magic and Princess of Equestria, went into seclusion, they say. Ponies who occasionally saw her in Ponyville claim she wandered aimlessly, making statements about the magic of friendship failing, the kingdom breaking, that magic was all wrong. More often, they saw her in her recently risen castle, reading on balconies and pacing, watching over them all with telescopes and making studious notes. She never seemed reasonable or coherent when among the towns-ponies, but she never waved or called to anypony when she was in her castle reading. They all said Rainbow Dash’s mysterious semi-disappearance had jumbled Princess Twilight’s nerves in just the wrong way. The other princesses would apparently visit her occasionally, but none of them talked to any other pony about their visits.

Her friend Rarity, who owned the clothing boutique in Ponyville, is said to have come and seen her friend often after the incident, sometimes taking expensive-looking clothing inside. She always came back with the same outfits. Her little sister, Sweetie Belle, had told the other ponies that Princess Twilight had gone a little crazy and that Rarity couldn’t cheer her up.

Her friend Fluttershy, who’d owned a small cottage on the outskirts of Ponyville, is said not to have shown her face for months, and when she did, she looked malnourished and very weak. She was taken to Ponyville Hospital and treated for—

My thoughts are interrupted by looming homes in front of me. A little more stardust for these ponies to give them sweet dreams. Cast over this home, I see Chamaeleon shimmer briefly before dissipating. A dream of escape, of hiding away somewhere, watching change without being changed. I can’t blame the pony who lives there of feeling that way. The next home shows me Serpens, a dream of lying and persuasion. The poor creature is probably dreaming of something they will never feel. I wish I knew what it was. Serpens, just like all others, deserves to have dreamers as well.

—treated for malnutrition and depression. They gave her some pills so she could be happy again, and she seemed to do okay after that. To this day, they say, you could still go see Fluttershy taking care of her animals near Ponyville. Maybe I’d go see her someday.

Applejack nearly worked herself to death. She wasn’t afraid to tell anypony that she felt responsible for her friend’s death, and she could be seen working 18 hours a day bucking apple trees, tilling soil, planting crops, anything she could do to keep busy. It was to distract her from what she remembered, her little sister had told other ponies. Her labor had made Sweet Apple Acres something truly miraculous to behold, an incredibly well-maintained farm that had grown far beyond its limitations. She near worked herself to death, until she had an accident in the market one day and caught her hoof in a rope. She couldn’t buck or move too quickly after that. She had seemed to just lose all of her drive to keep going. She finally got given her rest about a year after her Granny Smith had, leaving Big Mac and Apple Bloom to do what they could for the farm in her absence. The farm was a ghost of itself, now—wonderful cider, but it just lost so much spirit with that pony. Half the farm went neglected and ignored because nopony could possibly do what she’d done and be all right in the end.

Pinkie Pie apparently wasn’t really all that affected by her friend’s loss. When ponies asked her about Rainbow Dash, she’d pretend she didn’t know who they were talking about. She still put on incredible parties and brought smiles to everypony. There was only one day out of the year that she wouldn’t put on a party; nopony ever saw her that day unless they watched her house really closely, when she’d put a cake with candles that increased by one every year in front of the window and a banner that said “Happy Birthiversary!” over the door. If anypony asked her who the birthiversary was for, her eyes would just kind of glaze over, she’d mumble something about needing to prepare for a party, then she’d get back to whatever it was she was doing.

Rumor has it that you can still go to Ponyville and see the old Elements of Harmony. None of them are how they used to be; something about them has changed.

This, at least, is what I was told by my friends. Ex-friends, as it were. My mother told me they were all negative influences. I’ve never been a big fan of ghost stories, anyway.

In the midst of my night flight, I catch sight of two ponies sleeping under the stars. Their still forms seem oddly at ease in this world of so much hardship and worry. I wish to give them pleasant dreams of their own this night. As I fly overhead, I sprinkle some stardust over them.

Ophiuchus. Bearers of the serpent. I have been warned about these dreamers. They are agents of Black Cat.

The Rebellion, for all its faults, taught me above all how to hunt Black Cat and his agents. I have only ever seen Ophiuchus above those who serve the dark—not the snake, who may or may not have dark intentions, but his servant, the willing perpetuator of the snake’s lies. I was a wonderful spy detector within the Rebellion, and they caught dozens with my help.

What should I do? Find help? Take care of them myself? Pretend I could not make out the shape?

I must do something. Speak to them? To the enemy? Maybe the Rebellion’s training is wrong on some things. I’ve never killed a pony before. I’m going to go talk to them.

I arc downward, spiraling to where I can make the both of them out clearly. Unicorn and earth pony. Not many feel safe with only my mother’s sky to blanket them, but these two don’t seem at all fazed by sleeping under the stars. I am almost certain that they are the enemy.

“Awake, agents of Black Cat!”

The two ponies startle awake, both blinking sleepily at me. Neither seem prepared for a fight, nor worried in the least. They seem quite puzzled, in fact.

The unicorn speaks up. “I haven’t seen a black cat lately. Why? Did you lose your kitty?” She smiles reassuringly, letting out a loud yawn. “It can wait till, um, daytime, though, right? It’ll be easier to spot a black kitty then.”

I stare incredulously at the oblivious unicorn, then turn to the earth pony. “You. What are you doing out here?”

The earth pony blinks in surprise, as if she wasn’t expecting me to notice her. Then she replies, “Earth ponies Aquastria with sea-ponies. Ships of sails the beach of sea-ponies. Ships of Aquastria.”

That made... completely no sense to me. “Sea-ponies? Aquastria? Who in Celestia’s name are you?”

Her partner answers. “Her name is Seawinkle. She’s a sea-pony. I turned her into an earth pony.”

My focus snaps back to the unicorn. “Who are you? How did you transform a sea-pony? Who did you learn magic from? You’re too young for any of that. You must be working for Black Cat!”

She gives me a look of confusion. “We’ll help you find it if you like. We can’t work for a cat, though. They can’t have jobs, and they definitely can’t be managers.”

Such bizarre answers. I can’t think of a reply right away. My mind starts going through the canned responses of Black Cat followers. None of them seem even remotely similar to a pony trying to hide their identity. “All right. Let’s start with the basics.” I nod at the earth pony. “She’s Seawinkle." My eyes shift to the unicorn. "Who are you?”

“Name’s Sweet Pea!” She smiles confidently, her hoof held out to shake. “And what’s your name?”

I grasp her hoof between my front hooves and bob it up and down twice. “Night Glider. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” I look up at the dark sky. “What are the two of you doing here? You should know it isn’t safe in Equestria, and even more dangerous at night.”

“We didn’t know that!” Sweet Pea looks shocked. “Is there somewhere we can hide for the night? I’m not looking for any danger. Not yet, at least.”

I shrug. “There’s a town over the next rise there. Good luck finding any help, though. It’s a pony-eat-pony world out there.” I think for a moment. “If you aren’t from Equestria, then where are you from?”

“Well, like I said, Sweet Pea is from Aquastria. I met her while I was sailing here.”

Sailing? “So where are you from, Sweet Pea?”

“Who, me?” She averts her eyes and looks down. “I’m... not from around here.”

This is starting to get suspicious. I push my advantage. “If you’re not from Equestria, then where are you from?”

Now this “Sweet Pea” looks visibly nervous. “Telling you would only make you want to know more and more. I’ve, uh... kind of been sworn to secrecy. Not supposed to gab about it.” She shrugs unconvincingly. “You know how it goes.”

“Why would I know how a secret society goes?”

There’s a few moments of silence, then she says, “... What?” in genuine confusion.

“You suspect I’m a part of something, don’t you?”

“What? No!” She seems to be trying to backpedal. “A figure of speech, that’s all. You’ve never heard a pony say that before?” At my stern glare, she sighs. “Fine, I’ll tell you where I’m from. But you can’t tell anypony.” She sticks her hoof in her eye. “Promise you won’t tell anypony. I’ll be in huge trouble if word gets back to my mom. She may lose her house. That’s what she told me.”

I nod in understanding, then, realizing that her hoof is still on her eye, I stick a hoof over my own eye. “I promise, Sweet Pea.”

She leans forward conspiratorially. Seawinkle and I crane our necks, bringing our heads closer to hers. She whispers, “I’m... from the zebra lands.”

A pony. Raised by zebras. I can’t help but let out a laugh. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

She shrugs. “I never asked for you to believe me. You asked me for the truth, I gave it. Now, I really can’t say any more, all right? I broke, like, eight rules just by telling you.” She picks up a nearby set of saddlebags and puts them on her back. “Would you like to come to town with us, Night Glider?”

I shake my head. “I have duties at night, sorry.”

“Duties? Like what?”

I give another shake. “Secret.”

Sweet Pea’s eyes twinkle with curiosity. “Tell me.”

“Nope.”

“Please tell me?”

“No.”

“I told you one of my secrets. Now you tell me yours.”

“No.”

“Seawinkle of Equestria of ponies of dreams. Virgo of the Aquastria to Equestria Seawinkle Hippocampus sea-ponies ships to Equuleus.” She lets out a snicker.

I don’t know who this pony is or why she would name several constellations among nonsense. “Why do you talk like that?”

Sweet Pea laughs. “I have no idea why she does, but she’s really fun to talk to.” She turns to Seawinkle. “Okay, I’ve never heard you talk about dreams before.” Seawinkle nods. “And Virgo.” Another nod. “Hippo.” A shake. “Oh, um... oh, Equuleus was one.” Another nod. “But I’m sure I heard you say Hippo. What were you talking about?”

“Hippocampus.” Both eyes look at me. “It’s a constellation.”

Seawinkle shouts, “Equestria of the sea-ponies!” her excitement palpable even in seemingly random words.

“So,” Sweet Pea muses, “we have dreams, Virgo, Hippocampus, and Equuleus. We all know what dreams are, and we know that Hippocampus is a constellation... so, what are Virgo and Equuleus?”

“Constellations.” The focus on me is near unbearable. “They’re all constellations. Except the dreams, of course.”

“You know constellations? I only knew, like... Orion and the Big Dipper.” Sweet Pea grins in ignorance.

“Orion is a constellation, but the Big Dipper is an asterism.”

“An asta-what? Okay, how do you know so much about constellations?”

There is a tense silence. I stare at Sweet Pea, and she stares right back at me.

“I will tell you nothing, follower of Black Cat.” I immediately take to the air and fly away.

Much as I feel like going home and forgetting about the whole ordeal, I know I cannot. I must sprinkle stardust over the rest of the houses tonight. My mind is elsewhere throughout the flight. I don’t even take note of who shows to grace the ponies on this night. My role is only necessary to provide the stardust.

Much as I want to banish the ponies from my thoughts, they persist even when I complete my task and fly home. The sun is low in the sky, striking moody beams of light across the green pastures I speed over, but I cannot focus on the beauty. I can only think of the agents of Black Cat.

One of them speaks only in riddles, a code that only other agents will understand; the other makes an incredibly convincing liar, but I had her pinned from the moment she mentioned zebra lands. Zebras are something my mother scared me with when I still wet the bed. Such barbaric and callous creatures would kill a pony as soon as look at them. That’s why I know zebras don’t exist, and why I know zebra lands don’t exist.

I just can’t shake a feeling, though... something in their eyes. They didn’t feel like they must have been. There’s something different about them. If they are agents of Black Cat, they have the best disguise I could have possibly imagined.

That is probably the most terrifying thought of all—an enemy I can’t see or feel. Perhaps they’ve convinced me and I’m to die.

Alternatively, perhaps everything they’ve told is the truth. I have no way of finding out or knowing for sure.

That could be half of what’s eating at my brain. I don’t know “Sweet Pea.” I don’t know “Seawinkle.” Maybe I should have stuck around and found out for sure. Kept pressure on them. Forced them to give up the game.

If, of course, there is a game for them to be playing. Maybe they’re genuinely good mares. I just can’t believe that, though; they seem too shady to be innocent.

My mind just chases its tail around, over and over. Are they trustworthy? Do they serve Black Cat?

Finally, exhausted and ready to sleep, I force myself to a decision. I will find out when I see them tomorrow. In the meantime, I must sleep.