Beyond

It seems that we are quite equal, sister.

The music falls silent, the instrument is tossed aside, the hooves flee into a different corner. None of it is through my doing and I am damned to numb observation. At least a fragment of the warmth of life remains, as long as my memory would hold it.

You threw me into paralysis, powerless but to watch as you dictated my actions. I would appreciate if you could not do that again, ever. My body is my own.

As is the mind? You will have to trust me that I would do you no physical harm. After all, my grip on reality would be lost if your shell was to die. Perhaps I even have useful skills that I can lend to you. If I would remember them. Who would imagine what neat things I used to do!

Octavia shuffles into the only seat in the room. Something removes a strand of ebony mane from her eyes as her vision falls to the mirror. For a moment, we ask the same question of my existence. If I cannot see myself, how can I know I am?

I cannot exactly do anything about you anyway. I suppose it is more benefit than risk. Try and recall. What did you do in life that could be useful?

I believe I once was a local master of card games. Otherwise, little comes to mind. Perhaps I can help you as I help myself. I will try to remove myself from your senses now.

She remains still as I unfocus myself. Just as I depart, something changes, a shadow of something that never was flashes in the mirror. Then I awaken where I once was with the door slammed shut before me. I rise and return to exploring, for as long as it takes to slump down on one of the benches in the middle. Something about the birdsong robs me of all energy.

There was a book about this. Once upon a time, I read about the Dream Halls. Let me fetch it.

Take your time. I would not be there to judge you.

Do I see shapes in the light beaming from above or are they just figments of myself? Do I even still have an imagination that could fool me? If I just lie here and stop moving, I could pass eternity quite well.

There. The Dream Halls, as a pony's collective consciousness shall be named. Their exact form can not be known and varies per pony, but always includes precisely ten doors.

With one burst, the shapes disappear and my strength returns. Peace is not to be mine yet. I sit up, but see no reason to move further.

There are eleven here.

Anyway. Connected by a hall of nonexistence, the doors branch off the sections of one's mind. The first one gives access to the outside world through the host's senses, while they are active. Another leads to the flow of time, where memories are stored. Then there is the Void of What Was, where those memories come to life. Sometimes, the Void seemed to express scenes not known to the host. Research is required. Other doors' contents have not yet been uniquely identified in form and function. This could be due to shutin mechanisms preventing researchers from accessing them or simply lack of anything lying beyond. Well that book is a lot of good, isn't it.

Does it elaborate on how each section appears? I assume we have found senses already.

It says the river is just that, a literal river in a cave. The other thing is described as white infinity with little to break it.

Sitting will achieve nothing. Wandering through infinity may.

I am not sure what I expected the living to know. We are down to exploration then. I will start with this random door!

Despite the caution I give the door in opening it, a burst of pink bunnies flooding out overwhelms me. The door gives no resistance to shut even though I have to exert all of my force to move forward against the stream. I move one of the flower pots besides the doors to mark it, then turn and walk to the opposite end of the hall.

I will start with this different random door!

The door reveals nothing but pitch darkness. I hesitate. This could be the very end, the point of no further. However, I push on through. My hoof finds no ground and I fall until the door's light disappears. Then it stops. In the middle of nowhere, I am caught. The dark refuses to be shapeless. As I walk in no direction, motifs flash in the corner of my vision just long enough to remain out of focus. I see distance and reason. I see ponies and motivations. I understand this place.

You are still here.

Why would I not?

I just needed to hear your voice.

Somewhere, I find a wall to hold me as I rest again.

It will be a long time.

Awaken, princess. You were promised this.

I was indeed. Getting this job was a matter of months.

You seem calm.

Calmer than I should be?

Calmer than you are.

Now is not the time to panic. Whether my skills are enough, I must rely on them. This moment will turn my life, either way.

Do you remember the first song you wrote?

Little more than tuning the instrument. Practice for writing notes.

You remember it.

"Green is the enemy." What does it matter. I would not play that.

Certainly not. The curtain is lifting!

Do you live some seconds in the future? Regardless, I need to take the final steps.

Octavia trots to the center of the stage, her instrument dragging behind her. She just manages to get set up until the shroud rises and an entire city stares back at her. The lights are dazzling even though most were already pointed at her. Nothing moves.

She pulls the first string and the world breaks.