Author's Note

A brief note of caution: the end of this chapter contains some horror and slightly gory elements. Anypony especially squeamish might want to skip past the last part of this chapter.

4 - The Lunar Court

Gallus walked the mostly-quiet halls of Canterlot Castle. Very few creatures were awake in the middle of the night. Gallus wished he, too, was among the sleeping. But he had too many questions that needed answering.

He wandered the halls past the main throne room. Underneath a massive dome, two paths split from the main concourse. One was well-trod, small grooves worn into the marbled floor from tens of thousands of hoofsteps. The other path was decidedly less-traveled. Gallus turned down the path emblazoned with moons and stars. At the end of the hall stood an enormous set of double doors, each bearing Princess Luna’s cutie mark in opals and moonstones. Two large ponies stood guard beside the doors, and each regarded the griffon skeptically.

Gallus noted with interest that the two ponies had elongated ears and leathery wings. He nodded in recognition. “I thought bat ponies were a myth,” he said.

“Daytime ignorance,” the slightly larger one on the left muttered.

“Name and petition,” the second, slightly darker colored guard stated blandly.

“Gallus of Griffonstone. And, uh, I don’t have a petition.”

The darker bat pony blinked and glared down at the smaller creature. “Then what is your business with the Princess of the Night?”

Gallus scoffed. “She told me to come here.”

The two guards exchanged a look. One bat pony slipped inside the large door. The other lowered a spear toward the griffon. “Perjury earns time in the dungeon,” he said with a hint of glee.

Gallus put on his best tough look. “Good thing I’m not lying, then.” Unless it was all just some strange dream he had imagined. He shifted his weight at that thought. Gaw, he hoped it wasn’t just a dream.

After a few uncomfortable moments, the smaller guard returned and crooked a hoof toward the griffon. “Come, you are summoned.”

Gallus leered at the other guard. “Told you so.” The guard remained frustratingly stoic.

Gallus stepped around the door and gazed upon the Lunar Court. Whereas Princess Celestia’s courtroom had been all windows and airiness, Princess Luna’s was marble and tile. Sculptures filled the numerous niches around the circular room, with only small porthole-style windows to gaze upon the surrounding countryside. Then Gallus looked up and his breath caught in his chest. Where there should have been a ceiling to the dome, he could see stars—thousands of stars—and off to one side, the majestic moon, currently in a stylish crescent.

“Beautiful, is it not?” A regal voice proclaimed.

The bat pony escorting Gallus cleared his throat. “Gallus of Griffonstone,” he announced loudly and clearly, “answering summons.”

“Thank you, Orpheus, you may leave us.”

“Of course, majesty.” The bat pony bowed briefly and trotted back out of the room.

Gallus’ gaze slowly shifted back from the stunning view to the pony princess walking in his direction. He wasn’t sure what to expect, given the up-and-down reception in his dream, but Luna smiled widely at the griffon. “It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh, Gallus of Griffonstone.”

Gallus offered his claw in greeting. “Please, Princess, just ‘Gallus’ is fine.”

The alicorn placed her hoof in his claw. “You may call me Luna.”

The griffon nodded. “Luna, then.” He paused, then, trying to collect his thoughts. The late hour and stress of the last hour made it difficult. “I have so many questions.”

The princess laughed, a sound that made the griffon think of tiny silver bells. “I expect you do, Dream Strider.”

Gallus blinked. “You used that term in my dream, too. What does it mean?”

The alicorn strolled past the griffon, staring idly into the starscape above her. “It means that perhaps in this, as in so many other things, I should have followed dearest Twilight’s example.”

Gallus rubbed his eyes. He was too tired for cryptic remarks.

He turned and suddenly realized that Luna was staring at him coldly. She barked a sudden laugh. “Quite right, I suppose.” Gallus blanched, realizing he must have said his thoughts aloud. He really was tired.

“Here,” the princess said, “please join me for tea. Or do you prefer coffee?”

“Either would be a blessing,” he replied honestly. He had already forsaken sleep. He figured he may as well be as awake as possible.

“Coffee, then,” Luna said with a smile. “I so rarely get to enjoy it with my guests.” She lit her horn and a small bell chimed at the back of the court. A small, white unicorn poked her head into the room. “Coffee, if you please, Astra. For two.”

“At once, Princess,” the pony cantered off.

“Will you sit?” Luna asked the griffon.

Gallus gave a small laugh. “I’m afraid if I do, I’ll just fall asleep.”

“Then walk with me?” She gestured with a hoof and started a slow circuit of the chamber. Gallus stepped up beside her.

“To your question, the Dream Striders were once my lieutenants.” A sad look crossed her features for a moment. “They were ponies of innate talent, capable of entering the Umbral Realm and affecting dreams, much as I do.”

“The Umbral Realm? You said that, too, in the dream. That’s where we were?”

The alicorn shifted her head side-to-side. “In a manner of speaking. The Realm is neither here nor there. It is the base of reality for dreams.”

Gallus shook his head. “Nope. I’m lost. Maybe I’m just tired.”

Luna smiled. “Wiser and more eloquent creatures than I have tried to explain it without success. I tell you only what I have discovered.” She drew a deep breath. “The Umbral Realm exists in parallel to the world we know in waking. It is a subservient realm, in that it reflects anything permanent or longstanding in the waking world. Canterlot Castle exists there, but the market vendor stalls do not.”

Gallus nodded, remembering that part of his journey. “Okay. But what about the bed that Sandbar and I were on? It was in the dream. Er, Umbral Realm. But it was clean and made in there. It sure as gold wasn’t clean or freshly made when I woke.”

Luna nodded. “That hotel has stood for decades. Perhaps centuries. And that bed, or a prior one very similar to it, remains freshly made far more often than rumpled and used. I expect that is why it exists that way in the dream.”

Gallus frowned. “What about the bubble I found?”

“Shimmering luminescence? A scene of wonder inside?”

Gallus shrugged. “If you call a yak eating pancakes a wonder.”

Luna gave a cheerful laugh and then nodded. “A dream. All dreams exist within and upon the Umbral Realm. You may find many such ‘bubbles’ layered upon one another in places where ponies...” She paused, correcting herself, “creatures may dream themselves: The Canterlot gardens, the Wonderbolts academy, schools. Dreams often coexist in the same space without ever intersecting. 'N-th factor polydimensional overlays,' Starswirl the Bearded once called them.”

Gallus gaped. “What the Tartarus does that mean?”

Luna gave him a confiding look, a small twinkle in her eyes. “I have no idea.” She laughed again, and Gallus found himself smiling.

The small bell at the back of the chamber chimed and Luna lit her horn, making the bell chime twice in response. The white unicorn returned, levitating a silver tray with a large carafe and two fancy porcelain cups. The smell of roasted brewed coffee reached Gallus’ nose and he smiled.

Luna escorted the griffon to a set of cushions. Her magic subsumed the unicorn’s, and the princess filled the cups with steaming coffee. She set the tray and carafe down after floating one cup to Gallus. He took the hot cup in his claws willingly. “Thank you, Astra,” Luna said kindly. “That will be all.”

The unicorn bowed. Her eyes locked with Gallus’ for a moment and the griffon blinked as he realized the unicorn was an albino—she had no pigmentation in her eyes, mane, tail, or fur. No wonder she worked for the Princess of the Night; she would surely crisp during the day.

Gallus took a sip of the coffee. It was rich, and bold, and very subtly sweet. The griffon nodded contentedly. “You said there were no more Dream Striders? What happened to them?”

Luna sighed. She slowly sipped her coffee and gazed upward at the moon. “When I was banished a thousand years ago, the Dream Striders were nearly twenty strong. For a long time after my return, I avoided learning their fate for fear of what I would find.”

Gallus tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

Luna set her cup down with her magic. “They were fiercely loyal to me. Perhaps too loyal. I allowed my darker instincts to overtake me, and I feared many would have followed me to Tartarus itself.”

Gallus whistled softly. “You were worried they went rogue?” The princess nodded sadly. The griffon sipped at his drink, considering. “Did they?”

“Only one, a unicorn named Lilith.” Luna shook her head. “It took me moons to find the records in the Canterlot archives. Lilith swore vengeance on my sister, swore to tear Equestria to pieces until she could rescue Nightmare Moon,” Luna’s voice dripped with scorn at the title. “The rest of my Striders showed better sense, I am proud to say. They made to capture Lilith, but she escaped into the Umbral Realm in physical form.”

Gallus blinked. “Wait, what? I thought you said the Umbral Realm isn’t a real place?”

Luna nodded. “It is not. It is a terrible, dangerous thing to do, to enter the Realm with your real body instead of just your mind.” The alicorn shuddered. “I tried it once only. My power was magnified tenfold, but so was the danger—one small slip of attention, one nightmare bubble encountered, and I could have been maimed or killed.” Her eyes met Gallus’. “Have you ever fallen in a dream? Been attacked? Nearly died? Imagine if you could not wake.”

Gallus shivered at the thought. “Indeed,” the princess agreed.

“So Lilith?” Gallus prompted.

“Was never seen again,” Luna said. “I expect she found the wrong end of a nightmare.” Gallus heard no sympathy in her voice.

“What about the other Dream Striders?”

“They lived out their days in service to my sister.” Luna levitated her cup back to her lips and took a long drink. “Celestia has not the talent to walk the dream or discover new Striders, and so, one by one they aged and passed as ponies do.” Luna shook her head sadly. “I have made gentle inquiries since my return, but, if truth be told, I have not sought to rebuild the Dream Striders' numbers. The Umbral Realm stood undefended for nearly a thousand years without incident.” The alicorn took a long drink of coffee. “I began simply to walk dreams, to guide and support dreamers instead of watching for an outside threat that never came.”

Gallus felt a chill pass over his body, thinking of his repeated encounters with the ponies with the eye-wrenching cloaks. “Do shape-shifting cloaks mean anything to you?”

Luna blinked, apparently caught off-guard by the non-sequitur. “Explain,” she commanded simply.

Gallus shrugged and took a brief sip of coffee, giving himself time to think. “It’s just that I’ve had a couple dreams this week, with the same ponies in them, and I get a really uneasy feeling when I look at them. And they all have these dark cloaks with patterns and shapes that blend and twist until you can’t even keep looking at them.”

Luna tapped her chin with one hoof. “Interesting. Was this a dream or in the Umbral Realm?”

“I…” Gallus thought about it. “I have no idea.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing, right? Just some scary dream I thought up after having one too many late-night desserts.”

Luna tilted her head in consideration. “Mm. Possibly.” She stood and offered a hoof to the griffon. He set his coffee down and let himself be lifted to his feet. “You will continue to observe and report your findings over the next few days.”

Gallus balked. “Uh?”

Luna looked down at the griffon with a strange look on her face. After a moment she laughed. Gallus thought it sounded self-conscious. “Forgive my manners. We talk of Dream Striders and I fall back into old patterns.” She bowed slightly, tilting her head. “I would appreciate it if you would continue to watch for these ponies and their odd cloaks, in case they are not creations of your imagination. Please send word if you learn of anything important.” She began walking the griffon towards her chamber door. “You would do well to continue exploring your talent. Do not fear—very little can harm you in a dream, if you are careful, and I will be watching as well, should you ever need assistance.”

Luna began walking towards the large double doors. Gallus fell in beside her. “You would do well to sleep. Truly sleep,” she clarified. “Our bodies and minds get little rest in the Umbral Realm, and you appear quite ill-rested.” A yawn escaped the griffon’s beak, proving her point. “Should you find yourself there on accident, escape as I have shown you.”

The dark alicorn lifted a hoof and pushed one door open. “We shall speak again soon, I expect.” Gallus bowed low and began trudging back down the hall. Gallus felt like he was in a dream right at that moment. He had a special skill? And a task from a pony princess? He thought about pinching himself. Not, he realized with some small horror, that that had worked in his dream anyway.

The dark gray unicorn approached the enormous throne carefully. Her head was bowed, and she stared at the volcanic rock below her hooves as if it held her salvation. Her two compatriots stood to either side of her.

“YOU HAVE THE AMULET?” This close, the voice of her King tore at her ears. She winced and went down on her front knees.

“Deepest apologies. It has yet eluded us, your Greatness.” The unicorn prostrated herself fully, laying her front half down into the rough rock. “I still believe it may exist in the ancient castle. If we simply take more time-”

“TIME IS MY LUXURY. NOT YOURS.” The air shook and heaved around her.

The unicorn licked her lips nervously. “Of course, my King.” She lowered her hind quarters to the ground, until her entire body was pressed flat into the rough ground. “We are but mayflies in your sight.”

The earth pony beside her snorted. “Speak fer yerself, Shade.”

The unicorn flinched. Idiot, she thought.

“YOU DISAGREE, CROW?”

“We’ve been lookin’ for this bloody amulet for months, ain’t we?” The earth pony complained. “Day after day,” he complained, “an’ for what? So you can bitch at us ‘ere?”

The darkness rumbled, and Shade felt a spare moment of pity for her idiot partner. Out of the corner of one eye, she watched a dream bubble form behind the earth pony. She shivered as she watched dark visions populate the space within.

“YOU FORGET YOURSELF,” the Nowhere King boomed. A sudden gust of wind blew past Shade, the gale pushing the unicorn into the ground. It lifted the earth pony off his hooves and pushed him into the nightmare. Shade shivered in spite of herself. “OBSERVE,” her King demanded. Reluctantly, Shade turned her attention to the nightmare and saw the deep-blue pegasus beside her do the same.

In the dream, Crow fell, his hooves flailing wildly. He screamed. Oh, Darkness, how he screamed. Shade watched the silver earth pony fall from a great height towards a huge hole in the ground, a gaping maw full of teeth. Faster and faster he fell, until he impacted, his back left leg speared on a monstrous tooth. Blood gushed from the wound. Shade nearly retched, even knowing the damage was only mental. There was so much blood.

Crow screamed in agony. And the hole contracted, pulling him inward. The earth pony scrambled upward, pulling his injured leg free. He stumbled forward, but as the maw collapsed, the teeth suddenly pointed inward. The only way to move forward, to escape, was to drag his body through the hideous, sharp daggers of teeth.

Crow closed his eyes, and his form shimmered, becoming immaterial in the bubble.

The sound of mountains crashing together made Shade flinch. The Nowhere King laughed.

“YOU ARE MINE, CROW. YOU WILL SUFFER UNTIL I ALLOW YOU REST.”

Crow’s body regained its clarity, bloody wound and all. “No!” the earth pony shouted, his voice distorted from inside the dream bubble. “My King, please! Please! Forgive me!”

The earth pony slipped, falling deeper into the maw of teeth. A horrible green acid seeped from the walls and began to eat into his flesh. “PLEASE!” he screamed. Shade shuddered but kept her eyes on the scene, as she was bid to do.

His screams were awful. Shade was sure they would join the million other nightmares she already harbored in her head.

Crow heaved upward, pulling his tortured body out of the acid. Teeth, sharp as knives, tore into his flesh as he tried to pull himself out of the grotesque maw. His dripping blood pooled into the acid below him, sizzling wildly.

“Great Nightmare, please,” Shade pleaded, in as deferential a tone as she could manage, Canterlot breeding be damned, “you may break him if this keeps up.”

The air shivered and pulsed, beating against the unicorn. She focused her breathing. Slow. Steady. “He has been useful, if rash.”

Shade swallowed roughly, uncertain of why she was sticking her neck out for the idiot.

In the nightmare, the contractions of the terrible maw stopped. Crow scrambled his way across stilled teeth, pulling himself out with two uninjured legs. Blood seeped from numerous wounds, staining the majority of his coat a dark crimson. The earth pony closed his eyes. His form shimmered, and a moment later Crow re-appeared beside Shade. She drew a relieved breath seeing him physically uninjured.

The earth pony threw himself to the ground, groveling. “Greatest and most powerful Nowhere King, I apologize, I do! Oh Darkness take me, I’m only a worm, a mayfly, nothin’ to you, o’ course. You are-”

“SILENCE.” The word shook the air. Crow fell immediately silent. “FIND THE AMULET. MY PATIENCE THINS.”

Shade nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, our King!” she agreed. She took a deep breath and immediately left the dream.

A dark gray unicorn woke in a lavish bed. Despite the multitude of plush blankets draped across her, she shivered.