The ship would not obey.
Pipsqueak galloped through the upper deck—all tension, and wariness, and this special sea-scent that let you sense your ship with your own hooves and understand immediantly how it feels and what it needs.
His ship was unsure. His ship was terrified.
Wind and waves were singing in the depths of the night, and their song was wicked.
Suddenly the darkness became brighter. A shivering light of firefly's sort erupted out of the mastheads, lighted up the sails and slipped down, stalling in the corners and illuminate every single line.
The crew looked fearfully at this light in the middle of the night ocean, pale and cool like the moon beams or weak looms of stars, and their murmurs were full of odd creatures and sea disasters.
"Sky Elma's fire", old bearded bosun pulled his hood off and looked up, trembling. "Cap'n, there will be trouble."
Pipsqueak opened his mouth to cut down the panic, but don't have time to let out even a word.
"Dead ahead!" bawled out somepony beside, and Pipsqueak, alongside with the others who had looked at the horizon, froze.
There, way ahead, in dark waters was rising something that was neither a wave nor a whale—cyclopean, foetid and hollow, it came from the depths and chose not to leave before it's hunger is stilled.
"Kraken," breathed out Pipsqueak. "All hooves on deck!"
This monster from the depths haunted his ship for a long time, and each and every one of the encounters were close calls but until today Pipsqueak always managed to flee.
He darted forward; the sabre (not a toy, a real one!) dangled on his flank, and a red bandana didn't fall down on his eyes even as he loped his way. That came in handy right at the moment.
Pipsqueak caught the steering wheel in a jump and tried to turn it at full fling; but his ship was too scared and had lost by then the last drops of its sanity. The panicking crew was scampering behind him, attempting to handle the cords, but the ship, all wrapped in pale and cold glowing and maddened with fear, was going right at the monster, freshening the way.
Pipsqueak hang on the helm, that suddenly grew to the size of a house—and managed to turn it slowly but it was not enough. Choking, delirious fear numbed him.
"Somepony", prayed he at the back of his mind. "Somepony, help me! Or this monster will gobble me up alive!"
And the wheel lighted up.
Pipsqueak stood still for a moment,—did the paws of Sky Elma get to the helm now?—but then he realised, that this light is more clear and lucid.
It shrouded the giant wheel, and colossal weight in Pipsqueak's hooves became lighter.
The colt turned around.
On the deck behind him stood the Princess.
On her forehead, round the colored with magic horn there was a pirate bandana; Princess's spreaded wings were embracing the night, her waist was wrapped with a sash not unlike pirate, but made of pure starlight. It blended with liquid-like mane and tail, flaring in the invisible wind, fusing into the darkness of the night and making it brighter.
"Hold on," she said steadily, and Pipsqueak attacked the helm with a renewed vigor.
The ship began to turn.
The time slowed down. Pipsqueak knew that everything was going all right and left the helm for a while to turn to Princess enthusiastically.
"The Dream Realm's seas are always tricky, child," she smiled. "And it's a crucial knowledge for every captain."
Pipsqueak galloped to her and hugged her leg.
"Princess Luna!"
And added, in disappointment:
"It... it means I'm just dreaming now?"
Luna let out a laugh, and sound of it was oddly similar to drops of Sky Elma's fire streaming down to the deck.
"Did you come for a visit?" proceeded the colt in an uncertain voice. "We have cookies and apple juice, I mean, rum, but right now here..." with even more uncertainty he shook his head, pointing to the horrible silhouette ahead, which was gotten bogged down in the slow night—as the ship, and the sea, and the whole world.
"Sorry, child," Luna shook her head. The smile faded from her face. "I don't come anywhere without reason. But you begged for help, and therefore I'm here—to harvest this nightmare."
Pipsqueak looked at the monster in the distance one more time and gazed at Luna distrustfully.
"You want the Kraken? Princess Luna, he can swallow a whole ship in one gulp!"
"Of course, child."
"And he also destroys the islands! And damages the sea ports! And gobbles up ponies! And... and I can't say now what more but it's all terrible!"
"You know your nightmares well, little captain," she tilted her head. "It's a pity not all of us can boast that."
She turned around and made a few steps. Her horn flashed up brighter, and Sky Elma's fire echoed it, beginning to fill the ship with a glow. But it was still moving slowly, as if the water was honey.
"Wait!" Pipsqueak trotted to her; every step of the Princess equaled three steps of the colt's. "Do you want to defeat him? To destroy him?"
"To harvest. Nopony can fully destroy a nightmare. They are living with us as long as we are living at all."
"So it means... to capture him? Princess Luna, you are the strongest pony in all the world, but he..." Pipsqueak looked desperately at the dark enormous faraway mass. "He is, like, very big."
"He is just your nightmare from the Realm of Dreams. Nothing more, nothing less."
"A-and where will you take him? If he is a nightmare, and nopony can destroy the nightmares?"
Luna paused. She looked hesitant, staring off into the distance, looking at something bigger and higher than the sky or the sea wrapped in darkness.
"I own the Realm of Dreams, little captain," she said finally very gently. "And I can walk among dreams, like every Princess walks among lands of her vassals. But I have my own dreams too. All entrances and exits there are thoroughly locked. I harvest the most cruel of the nightmares that haunt the dreams of others and lock them there. Being born in another place, they can't sneak out of there with me, and nopony of their creators can come inside."
Pipsqueak didn't answer at first. He tried to imagine dreams full of various beasts and disasters from all corners of the world, locked up and furious with rage, but he just couldn't, despite all trying.
"That's horrible," forced he finally out a weaky squeak. "How do you... how you... how can you dream your dreams there?"
"Don't worry. The nightmares of others are too weak for me, and my own nightmares..." the sound of Luna's voice became dimmer; the glimpse of a black aurora cut through her mane and tail, and the night around sunk into the darkness a bit deeper. "I defeat my own nightmares with making your dreams safer. Not all of them—never all—but the cruelest of them. I committed enough evil deeds in my life, child, and the path to forgiveness has just begun."
She tilted her head, and the magic light flared up again.
Confused, Pipsqueak looked away from her to the ship, ablaze with lights, to the monster in the deep dark water. Then he looked at his sabre (not a toy. A real one). Rearranged the bandana that didn't fall down on his eyes.
"Princess Luna," he began quietly. "And... are your dreams... do they have a place without nightmares? Just one?"
"Yes," she answered after the period of silence long enough for colt to begin to doubt that she will answer at all. "Yes, they have."
"And you don't need to fight there?"
"No, child. That place is full of peace."
Pipsqueak looked at his sabre again, then at his crew, trapped and frozed in the thick light behind like the rest of the world, and then eyed his faraway nightmare.
"You know," he turned to Princess, "Thank you. Without you we would all be dead here by now. But I-I think I can manage by myself from now on. Will you come tomorrow? Without reason, just to party. We will have cookies and apple juice, I mean, rum. And an octopus. Grilled one."
Luna's eyes went wide in astonishment; all the lights blinked at once.
"I really can handle this, I'm sure," Pipsqueak touched his sabre with a hoof. "And I have beasts for a crew! We will definitely make his feathers... uh, scales... or what they are, but they will fly."
Gentle light flowed above the deck, twinkling sash fluttered in the star wind.
"Will you come to us tomorrow?" Pipsqueak frisked to the helm. "Please!"
He turned his head, but the Princess was gone.
The ship was flying forward faster than a pegasus.
"So, what have we here," Pipsqueak narrowed his eyes and grasped the helm that suddenly began to respond his every action.
"Cap'n, the monster is dead ahead!"
"The trophy is dead ahead, you bunch of breezes!" roared Pipsqueak. "Full speed!"
The ship rushed forward, blooming with Sky Elma's fire, which were ghostly like the moonlight and cool like a lullaby. Pipsqueak sensed every one of these lights like every plank and every cord of his ship before, and the lights obeyed him, moving and hanging in mid-air, flaring up and lifting the ship like wings. As all the good sailors do, Pipsqueak knew that the seas of Dreams enlace all the Realm, and if he would sail through them long and persistent enough, then sooner or later he would lead his ship to the place full of peace, where night sleeps between the flowers, that glow softly and ivory, like the Sky Elma's fire.
Until then he is to do what every good captain should do.
He is to make the feathers (or what they are) of his own nightmares fly.
