Dreamwalker's Tale

I started to appreciate our new morning routine. It felt… homely. Spike came into the kitchen with a little “Morning!” and started to help me out as if it was the most natural thing ever. Sure, doing most of the kitchen work was what he did on most days, but working side by side with another pony…? I guessed Twilight was there with him on the odd occasion, though she was usually banned from the kitchen due to circumstances neither of them wanted to elaborate on.

Sometime later, Twilight emerged. Less zombified, this time. “Good morning!” she greeted us with a rather chipper tone.

We sat down and started to eat. I told her the incredible and unbelievable news of not finding anything useful. Again. Well — at least I could joke about it. We were still in the middle of breakfast when we heard some rather insistent knocking on the front door. “Spike, could you clean up, please?” Twilight asked him while she stood up and made her way towards the door.

I tried to reign in my own nerves and lend the little dragon a hoof. Twilight did not even reach the door when the insistent knocking occurred a second time. Somepony was up early and impatient. I had a feeling I knew who was waiting outside and really, it was one of Twilight's greater accomplishments that she was waiting outside. For just a short moment, I entertained the idea that it might have been Rainbow, but then I shook my head with a smile. She would have just crashed into the castle through one of the windows.

Once I heard hushed voices talking at the entrance, I put the plate down as well as the towel I had used to dry it and looked over to Spike. “You know… you might wanna take a step back,” I warned him with a weak chuckle, then focused my attention towards the kitchen door, closed my eyes in trust and opened my forelegs for a big old Pinkie hug. From what I remembered, they were rib-crushing, but soul-mending.

I heard a loud gasp and took that as my cue to take a deep, deep breath. One last chance to enjoy lungs full of air. Then, a sudden pink blur zipped past the kitchen door, stopped midway down the hall, zipped back and almost broke the poor door. She ran straight into my embrace and tackled me down. I could not help but laugh at her antics. After a second or two, I calmed down. I just relaxed into her crushing embrace and felt all those nerves from the last couple of hours melt away.

She felt familiar.

Pinkie was great at that, somehow. She appeared to be a bottomless fountain of bubbling, swirling, excited energy, yet somehow, she could always make me worry less. I squeezed my cheek against hers and enjoyed the closeness. Out of all of my friends, Pinkie was the well-rounded one, so to speak. She burned massive amounts of energy with just being herself each and every day, but her intake was even greater than that. Came with the profession, I supposed, being a baker and all that. But her being a bit pudgy was just lovely, it was an enhancement. It made her crushing hugs softer, more comfortable. For a short moment, I could not help but wonder: I knew Applejack could give well-meaning hugs like that. And she had the famous earth pony strength as well. But she did not have a single gram of fat to spare, she was all muscle. I just could not quite remember how her hugs felt, so I could not compare them.

After a moment, the warmth she radiated started to seep into my very bones. It threatened to lull me into a drowsy stupor and getting less reasonable, I started to slowly rub my neck alongside hers, all the while deeply inhaling the scent of her mane. She smelled like a bakery. Flour and honey and nuts and oven heat, hints of cinnamon and cherries, each stroke, each patch, yielding a different bouquet.

It was quite unlike Twilights. Living in a library, working as its caretaker, and continuously studying all that the world had to offer, she smelled like age and paper, with hints of metallic ink. I loved that smell as well, it was just… different.

I did not know how long that embrace lasted. Probably long, as Twilight at some point must have pulled herself together again, closed the front door, made her way into the kitchen, watched us for a moment until she became self-aware and felt awkward about it and finally gave a polite cough. I had not been willing to let go of my new pillow though, but Pinkie giggled into my mane. “That tickles,” she whispered and pulled back. I was almost disappointed. She sat up straight, pulled me onto my haunches and subjected me to a critical, intense stare as she inspected me thoroughly. She probably took note of my color composition, cutie mark, immediately apparent behavior, and noted everything down somewhere in her head. For future party planning reference. She then suddenly inhaled deeply, gave a quick gasp and started to talk. In that funny, endearing and utterly overwhelming way only Pinkie Pie could talk in. Without any pauses or breathing and at breakneck speed.

“Who are you? Where are you from? How old are you? When is your birthday? What’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite muffin? Or do you prefer cupcakes? Why is your mane all messy? What’s up with that cutie mark? Why didn’t you come to me when you first showed up here? How would you stop Twilight if she were to take over Equestria? Do you like balloons? What—“

“Pinkie.” It took just a single word from Twilight and Pinkie's mouth snapped shut. Although she started to slightly vibrate on the spot.

I had a good chuckle. Especially about Twilight's plans of world domination. Something my favorite book horse seemed a bit troubled about. “Alright, here we go,” I answered, took a deep breath myself — noting Pinkie's bright, wide smile and expectant giggle — and tried to uno reverse. “Hi, my name’s Dreamwalker, I have no idea where I’m from or how old I am, I just plopped into existence about a week ago on the edge of the Everfree; I do like a lot of colors, especially dark blues and grass green; I love cherry and don’t care if it’s in a cupcake or muffin, because both are tasty treats, especially made from my favorite baker Pinkie; I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a while and was reading the whole night and kinda forgot to get to the bathroom… again; I have no idea what’s supposed to be weird about my cutie mark; I didn’t come to you because I didn’t know who I was at first and to be honest, I was kind of scared that I would mess it up with you, because you’re actually quite important to me and who says anything about stopping her? Oh, and… yes.”

I was wheezing at that point. My head felt unnaturally light, Twilight shot me worried glances again and I could not stop smiling. And Pinkie was happy. I loved to see that. Her grin had actually doubled in size, which should have been physically impossible, when I mentioned her as my favorite baker. And I had noticed, out of the corner of my eye, how utterly disturbed Twilight had looked for just a short moment when I apparently pledged my undying loyalty to her, even if she were to attempt a coup. So another success, then.

Pinkie then gasped quite suddenly. It had finally clicked, it seemed. “You knew I was going to tackle you!” she accused and immediately started to ramble on again. “How did you know? Are you from the future? Can you see the future? What number am I thinking of right now? Would you—“

She would not stop for quite some time, I knew that. One option would have been to just let her ramble on and on and on. At this point, she was used to a lot of ponies letting her talk, smiling to themselves, enjoying her antics but answering only a couple of questions instead of every single one of them. I would do that as well someday. But right now, I did not want to be one of those ponies. So, I just moved forward and embraced her again. Not exactly an entirely selfless act — hugging her felt great. She closed her mouth, snuggled against me and let me answer. “I know you, so I knew what to expect. I’m not from the future and I can’t see into it, so I have no idea what you’re thinking about right now. Sometimes, I get these weird mixtures of broken up memories, but everything is jumbled and distorted. I call it ‘flashes of insight’.”

“That sounds funny,” she noted.

Funny. Hrm. Not exactly what I was aiming for, but close enough.

Pinkie had always been more physical than most of the others. Hugging and touching and embracing, she experienced a lot in this world through touch. That sometimes led to misunderstandings or minor issues. Ponies like Fluttershy, Twilight and Rarity were a little more aware of personal space, and insistent on it being respected. Rainbow and Applejack leaned more on Pinkie's side, but were not quite as expressive as her.

We decided that further questioning could be postponed until we had made ourselves more comfortable in the living room. There, for the next hour or two, I answered as many questions as Pinkie could come up with. A bottomless well.

She was a little disappointed that I was not from the future or could read minds. But she was very interested in knowing just how good I knew her friends. We compared notes, so to speak. About distastes and favorites, routines and quirks — sometimes to Twilights dismay. I thought I had actually managed to impress Pinkie somewhat. Then I wrinkled my nose. “Hey, uh, Twilight? Where’s Spike?” I had not seen scale or fin of that little dragon since breakfast.

She giggled lightly. “Oh, he’s doing his chores. I told him what to do today while you two were… occupied. He’s making a list of the new books for future sorting reference…”

I thought about jumping in and defending my brave accomplice for a moment. Something she could read but chose not to comment on as she just slightly raised her eyebrow. I had to give up on that intention for now, though. It was a task that had to be done eventually and as far as ‘punishment’ went for going behind her back in such a major way, this was rather tame. So I just nodded.

“Enough talking!” Pinkie suddenly shouted and jumped up like a coiled spring. “We need to party!”

“Pinkie,” Twilight warned, “remember what we talked about. Small scale. Spike, Dreamwalker, you and me.” She looked over to me and smiled as I nodded gratefully.

Pinkie deflated just a tiny bit for a moment while her expression turned thoughtful, until she indeed seemed to remember such a conversation taking place. Her lips then immediately formed a hardened line of determination. She was not just any party pony. She was the party pony! She could work with this! Somehow. Obviously, knowing her, I fully believed in her. I nevertheless gave her a little push. “I suppose it would be quite a difficult challenge to make a party for four just as awesome and fantastic as one for forty…”

Her grin became almost predatory. “You’ll see!” she threatened, pulling her famous party cannon from her bouncy mane. Oh boy. We had just about enough time. I held my hooves to my ears and Twilight cast a quick dampening shield spell she had learned from her brother around her head. With a thunder, the cannon exploded and before we could see straight again, it had already vanished. Back into her mane, supposedly. What it left behind were streamers and confetti and balloons, pre-inflated apparently, and a massive banner hanging from the ceiling, reading ‘Welcome to Ponyville, Dreamwalker!’

I did not question any of it.

Down that road lies only madness.

I had this theory that, for fear of endangering Twilight, I really did not want to share with anypony. I suspected that Pinkie, by some sort of strange mishap, might actually be connected to chaos magic in just the same way Discord was. Her connection was obviously not as strong or deep. Same with me being a weak unicorn compared to Twilight. But her having access to chaos magic would actually explain sooo much about her weird quirks and behavior. We may never know…

Pinkie gasping again brought me back from the brink. “Quick, hiiide!” she yelled, then forcefully closed her eyes and started to count. I shared a short glance with Twilight; we both giggled and made our way out of the room to find decent hiding spots. We played several rounds of hide and seek, but the game was not ideal. One might think that the castle, being as massive as it was, would pose the biggest problem. One might be wrong, though.

I hid in a little cabinet under the kitchen sink. I had to work to somehow cram myself in there and close the cabinet doors. But, Pinkie being Pinkie, she yelled “Found you!” right beside me, appearing from the dark. This was physically impossible. As usual. Whenever Pinkie was searching, rounds tended to be on the very short side. Surprisingly, she found Spike last. And at that point, he did not even know that we were playing. Or rather, that he was playing as well.

It became even more of a mess once the tables turned. I had a lot of fun searching for Twilight and Spike, but not once did I find Pinkie. I always had to give up after a couple of minutes trying. One time, she hid in a potted plant. No, not in the pot. No, not behind the plant, either. In the plant. Seeing her step out made me laugh quite hard, but there was a barely noticeable undertone of ‘decidedly not healthy’.

So, once we were back in the living room and before we started the sixth round, I proposed to move on to the next game, with everyone being in favor of it. Twister it was.

Pinkie sometimes still had issues with being impossible, quite literally, but it was loads of fun anyway. Limbs twisting in all directions. Spike had the advantage of a very dexterous tail, but struggled with his shorter other limbs while Twilight was forbidden to use her magic after the second round. Pinkie used her tail and mane as extra appendages, which worked surprisingly well. And I… I just lost. Making good on what my bland appearance promised, I was normal in what I could do and I still felt bad for Spike somehow, so I sometimes might have lost on purpose just so he could live one twist longer.

After several rounds — I did not count them this time — we gave up and declared Pinkie the blushing winner. We brought out the board games, played pin the tail on the pony for a little while and in the afternoon, we had cake. Oh goodness gracious me, did we have cake. Not knowing what I preferred yet, Pinkie had opted to bring one slice for each of us… of everything they had in store. “I would’ve made more,” she explained remorsefully while shoving another entire slice into her mouth and somehow still speaking around it clearly. “But Misses Cake said that I shouldn’t use up all the ingredients and that maybe you wouldn’t like some of the flavors and that you probably couldn’t eat that much.”

I looked over the ocean of cake slices. Where had they even come from? “I… yeah, when you get the opportunity, please relay my gratitude. She’s quite right, this is… a lot. I don’t think we’ll need much dinner tonight.”

We wanted to spare Twilights and Spikes board games any sticky fates, so we busied ourselves with riddles and guessing games. This time, Pinkie's answers were rarely correct, but always funny. “Sooo… oatmeal?” I asked curiously.

“Yeppers,” she answered vigorously.

“Uh… how’s that relating to you helping Twilight win a singing contest again?” Before she could answer, I shook my head while chuckling. I had a devious idea at that moment. I looked down at the board we were currently playing on, then shared a pregnant look with Twilight and leaned against Pinkie. “Say… if you had to decide for just one favorite type of cupcake, what would that be?”

Admittedly, I felt a little guilty for sending her into such a frenzied panic. While she rattled on about her reasoning, I saw Twilight's horn softly glow and a couple of figurines on the board move around silently. I had Pinkies full and undivided attention until she, by chance, looked at the board and immediately noticed our meddling. “Aw! Cheaters!” she accused us, jumped to her hooves and… searched the room for the culprit, apparently? I barely contained my laughter, but once Twilight's façade broke, I followed suit. With a mighty war cry, Pinkie jumped on her friend and started a merciless tickle attack. Seeing Twilight writhe around beneath her friend, I laughed even harder. Just up until Pinkies intense stare hit me. Uh oh.

I tried to scurry away, but I wasn’t fast enough. Her mane whipped about and dragged me into the pony pile while her tail took hold of Spike and after a short while, the room was filled with exasperated yet merry laughter.

A couple of minutes later, we were lying down on our backs, shoulder to shoulder and just enjoyed breathing. Every now and then, one of us chuckled a bit, but mostly we just laid there. That is, until Twilight and Spike both yawned and thereby broke the moment. “It’s getting late,” she remarked and I found myself just nodding dumbly. After a moment, they got up.

“It was nice having you over, Pinkie,” Spike started and suddenly looked so much more tired than before. “But I’m off to bed now. Twilight, I’m going to finish that list tomorrow, if it’s alright with you.”

“It's fine, Spike, don’t worry.” She ruffled through his head fins and we watched him waddle off. Then she turned towards us. “I think I should be reasonable and follow him, though.” She hugged Pinkie again, mumbled a little thank you and offered her to stay in one of the guest rooms for the night and then left us to our own goodbyes.

However, something about this just did not quite sit right with me. Pinkie sat there and she looked tired. For Pinkie, at least. She still exuded this bubbling, barely contained energy, radiating it like the sun radiated light and heat. Ponyville was not massive. She would have to walk for an entire what? Ten minutes, maximum?

I was not entirely sure what the issue was, but I furrowed my brow and addressed it anyway. Rambling without a plan or idea had yielded some interesting results in the past, maybe that would help me out again. “You know… you could sleep with me,” I offered. After a moment, I blinked. Wait. What? “Sorry, that… came out weird. I meant it like… in the same bed as me? I’d like to try something. Maybe show you somethi—… this isn’t sounding less weird, is it?”

She still smiled happily, tilted her head lightly and after a moment of thought shook it from side to side. Right.

However, she was not embarrassed. Looking at her expression, I was not even sure if she had understood the potential implications. I knew from memory that she could be quite adept at innuendo herself, but right now, she seemed wholly innocent.

I should not have been surprised by that, of course. She probably was the most innocent of us all. Twilight studied everything that did not run away from her fast enough. At some point, she would have studied anatomy and breeding and whatnot. It was not exactly romantic, but she probably knew about stuff in theory — as per usual.

Rarity was always talking about her Prince Charming and I highly suspected that, even if by some weird miracle she did not have an impressive collection of naughty ‘romances’, she would at least have a vivid imagination, being the creative type and a healthy young mare with urges. A proper lady would never discuss such vile topics, of course — but she could dream. Then again, maybe her attitude to sex was not even that hostile. It was a normal part of life, after all.

Rainbow was cool. And twenty percent more awesome than anypony else, according to Scootaloo. Being a top-athlete, having a trained, sleek body, being this boisterous… with an attitude like that, she could draw a crowd, sure. Fans and groupies could be weird sometimes. I could not imagine that none had ever… propositioned her. Maybe she even had her fun now and again, I could not remember.

Applejack… was an Apple. Duh. She had her family. In all of Ponyville, she was probably the most reasonable, down-to-earth pony in existence. She saw things as they were and bluntly stated such. Maybe that had something to do with the whole Element of Honesty-thing, maybe it was just her. However, I could not imagine her sex life being all that active. She usually tended to outright bury herself below layers and layers of workload.

And then, there was Fluttershy. Everypony seemed to believe that this soft-spoken pegasus was innocence incarnate. And I just could not understand why. How one would come to think that. She was a caretaker. A mother, in a sense. For animals, no less. She cared for them, mended their wounds, tended to their illnesses, defended them if necessary, sure. But I could not imagine a bunch of snakes asking for permission before mating. Or for bunnies to even care about where they were doing it, or who was watching, as long as it was not a hungry predator. Fluttershy was all about nature… and breeding was one of the most natural things animals did. I was pretty sure she knew more than most of the other ponies about the topic, maybe even more than Twilight, seeing as she probably ‘only’ had theoretical knowledge to work with.

But Pinkie? She had been the Cakes’ apprentice for a long time. She was a baker. She made ponies happy by throwing parties, telling funny jokes, listening, being there for them, making them smile. Whatever it took. Maybe her family had ‘the talk’ with her at some point? Maybe she had asked the Cakes about where Pound and Pumpkin had come from? I just did not see a lot of opportunities for her to lose that innocence. And at this very moment, seeing how she looked at me, without any doubt or suspicion, just smiling and trusting. She knew about romance. How could she not, with Rarity as a friend and Hearts and Hooves day coming around each and every year.

A pink hoof knocked on my forehead. “Huh?”

“Are you back?” she asked with a grin.

“I was I gone?”

“Yepp. Spaced out. Sooo far away. You didn’t hear me.” It was just a statement, not a hint of accusation or hurt feelings.

“Oh. Sorry about that. What did you say?”

“You wanted to show me something. I wanna see it!” She seemed almost excited about the prospect. It made me chuckle silently.

“Alright. Let’s go, then.” I felt excited and led her through the hallways to one of the guest bedrooms. She went to the nearby bathroom and then climbed up onto the bed while I went to the bathroom myself and returned a short while after. She had already snuggled into her side of the bed by that point, taking half of the blanket for herself and leaving the other half unused for now. It would not have been hard to find another guest room, take a second blanket and—

But I did not want to.

She was silent, but awake. I stood before the bed, feeling self-aware and awkward. Moonlight illuminated the room. This moment felt precious. Rare was the occasion that she was this quiet. Slowly and cautiously, I moved up to her side. “You sure it’s okay?” I asked. When she nodded, I wriggled myself under the blanket and closer to her. She turned around and I pressed my barrel against her back, carefully moving a foreleg around her, holding her. For the second time that day, even if it was only a brief moment of indulgence, I allowed myself to enjoy that unique smell of her mane. A hint of peaches, this time, and caramel.

I did notice her tensing up as time passed by. She might have been innocent, sure, but she was not stupid. A healthy young mare in her own right, she probably started suspecting something. And I did not want her to get the wrong impression. So I raised my head, propped myself up a little and looked down to her. Noticing the shift behind, she turned onto her back and looked up in turn. She was beautiful. The moonlight reflected off of her cerulean eyes and made them appear as a much darker shade of blue. And right now, she was so very tired. And silent.

For just a moment, my mind ran away. It would be so easy to lean down and kiss her. There was so much trust in her eyes. If I would lead her, she would follow. Taking her first time. Enjoying all she had to offer. Maybe even taking things more seriously. Building something up, together with her? Starting our own family? Looking into her eyes, it all seemed so possible. Easy. Within reach. Just lean down. I would not even have to do it all the way. Judging by the look she gave me, maybe she was toying with similar thoughts? And all of it, all of these possibilities, felt... familiar. No concrete memories came forth, but I could feel them swirling around at the bottom of the muddy pond. I had gone down that path once.

But it was not about attraction. Or rather, not only about attraction.

Pinkie was, given her attitude and usual exuberance, surprisingly insecure. Always hiding behind a mask, in a way. At least hiding some parts of her own being away. At this moment, I realized what I had to do first. I did lean down, but aimed for her ear and whispered quietly. “Don’t doubt yourself,” I started to say what I thought she needed to hear. “You have so many friends who love you, care for you. For your well-being and your happiness just as much as you care for theirs. And I know for a fact that they won’t love you less if the party animal sometimes stops having fun, sometimes runs out of fumes, if you sometimes just want to be your quiet self, enjoying a bit of silence and respite. They will still be there. They will still care for you so very much. You are a wonderful pony, and you are not defined by your parties. You are gifted, Pinkie. You bring light and hope to other ponies’ lives. And you deserve somepony special who will let you rest and be yourself whenever you want, who will be there with you even when your own smile falters, who will be strong for you and will let you be strong for them. Somepony who loves you even more than just a friend.”

While I was softly talking, her quiet breathing hitched. The moonlight reflected off of increasingly watery eyes and like shooting stars, spilled tears ran along. Her sobbing was almost inaudible and broke my heart a little. But I did not falter. I still felt that this was right, that this was needed.

I gave her as long as she required to recompose herself at least a little bit. Once she had managed that, she looked back up at me again. “You mean it?” she asked.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” I recited without issue from memory. There was the tiniest little smile on her lips, but it spoke of great strength. “I promised to show you something, didn’t I?”

When she nodded, I closed my eyes and concentrated. Please let it work, please let it work, please… this would be a great moment for it to work! I felt the faint sizzle as magical energies wreathed around my horn. It felt weird. Foreign, at first. It drew strength from my legs, along my flanks and barrel up my neck, my whole head prickled a little. And then, I lowered it and touched my horn to her forehead.

The last thing I remembered was my body slacking and my nostrils filling with a scent of orange peels and mustard, for some reason. And then, we were there.

'There' was an… interesting place. A pristine white emptiness that stretched in all directions as far as the eye could see. There were no walls, no floor, no ceiling, and no features of any kind. Pinkie was still there, though. She still seemed small. Quiet. And there were tear stains on her cheeks.

A larger flash of insight made me reel for a moment. I remembered. A dreamer’s appearance was a reflection of his self-perception. She knew she had cried, so it showed. If she would have cut herself, but did not notice, she would have appeared here without any trace of that cut.

“Where are we?” she asked without her usual exuberance. She did not appear to be frightened or disturbed. Maybe it was actually the best thing that could have happened. Starting this with her of all ponies.

“This is the dreamscape. It’s original, unshaped, raw appearance. Someone more skilled and prepared than I am right now could make it appear as something else. Usually, this place is filled to the brim with… hm…” I turned around searching. I found a single bubble behind me. It was thrice as big as I was and right now, it contained a distorted, slowly swirling gray mist. “Found it.”

Pinkie stepped up to my side, close enough that her coat was brushing against mine. I smiled at her. “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a dream. That lazy gray in there tells you that, right now, the dreamer this dream belongs to isn’t actually asleep. Every dreamer has his own bubble. Under rare circumstances, they can even merge, although that’s only temporary. Shared dreams are a rarity.” At this point, I was not really answering her (potential) questions. I was just babbling on about the information from the last flash, stating facts I remembered the moment I successfully sorted them out. “If you’re careful, you can enter a dream. Change things, even. Talk to and interact with the dreamer. If he accepts you as part of his dream, which is usually his first inclination, then there’s only a small chance that he’ll remember details about the interaction after waking up. If you’re weird about it,” I started to chuckle quietly, “then he’ll probably remember. These bubbles can burst, too, if you’re not careful. Doing it from the outside is actually quite easy. The dreamer would just wake up. And create a new bubble the next time he sleeps. Ending a dream from the inside is a much more finicky task. It often requires proving to the dreamer the nature of his dream. That usually wakes them up, but it’s no guarantee.”

She nodded here and there, as if it were just another instance of Twilight lecturing her on something. “So… what about this one?”

I smiled. “It’s mine. This is quite a lucky find. I don’t know what happened here… as I told you, this place should be packed with dreams, but somehow, it’s empty right now. But for tonight, we only require this one, anyway.” I then started to carefully instruct her on what to do. “First, lay one of your front hooves on the bubble. Don’t worry — as long as you’re careful, nothing will happen. It should feel sticky. Once the bubbles' surface has a hold on you, lay your second front hoof on it as well. Then, slowly push forward. This dream is mine and you are quite welcome in it, so at some point it should start to pull you in.”

I had a sinking feeling that soon enough, I would have to deal with the other kind of dreams as well. The ones where I was not welcome at all. Instead of being sticky, their effects were more similar to two magnets repelling each other. One had to force oneself against it, but still remain careful not to burst the bubble, and then push into the dream. There were more problems with entering a dream uninvited, but I pushed those thoughts aside for now. I knew that distance and time were mere suggestions here and although I could not tell the flow of time, I did not want to waste any of it either.

So I demonstrated what I had said and she followed suit.

According to the sun in the west, it was late evening. Gnarled old trees stood around us like an angry but patiently waiting army. The Everfree Forest. In front of us was the rebuilt castle of the two pony sisters, with a small town all around it. I vaguely remembered this place. Greentail? Greenbark? Green-something. We will retake the Everfree Forest, we will cleanse it of Discord’s chaos magic and we will bring this land back into the fold of Equestria. Luna's voice. Right.

I shook my head. This had been another time, a different life.

Because of the waning daytime, the streets were getting emptied. Ponies vanished into their houses to spend another evening with their loved ones. That was actually the reason we were here. “Fly with me,” I told Pinkie and levitated off the ground. My horn did not glow with the wreath of magic, obviously. This was a dream. My dream. Much of the dreamscape's mechanics were tied to willpower, not magic as such. If I wanted to fly, I could — I just had to force my will upon this imagined reality. It was made infinitely easier, as this was my dream. Forcing my will into being within someone else’s dream was a battle of mental strength. Admittedly, the dreamer was usually at a disadvantage, only fighting with the might of his subconsciousness. It was less focused, not quite as smart and usually used a good amount of its power to sustain the dream itself.

Lucid dreamers were a problem, though…

I looked over to Pinkie. Once again, I was grateful that Lady Luck had brought her to me first. She had no problem accepting what I told her. She could fly? So she flew. We made our way across town and I saw her curiously looking down the entire time, scanning all the familiar looking ponies below us.

We landed on the outskirts of town. Ponyville was in that direction, but a couple of hours away. Instead, we landed before one mighty weeping willow. Because of the dense, lush canopy, it was hard to see the lights of the windows in its trunk. There was a home built within that tree, not unlike Golden Oaks, which had been used as a library. She stared in wonder at the massive tree, appreciating just how imposing it was. I gave her a moment before I politely coughed. “So… a couple of things before you go in there,” I started.

“You… you’re not coming with me?” Suddenly, she seemed uncertain again.

“No,” I answered and shook my head. “That would be… wrong, I think. It’s private. Quite intimate, too. Anyway, listen. This dream? It’s a little bit more than that. You might’ve noticed how some buildings seem blurred? Or how some ponies don’t have cutie marks, or… heh… proper faces? That’s because this is a memory. I tried to restore it as best as I could, but I can’t remember all the details. Most of it isn’t important anyway, but it would be more effort to go and cherry-pick what I want and what I don’t need than just… doing this.” I gestured to the town. I was sad for a moment. I would probably never see it again. Not this version of it, anyway. “What is in that tree is meant for you to see. Being a memory, they cannot see you if you don’t want them to. And if you want them to, remember that they are just reflections of my memories. There’s a Pinkie Pie in there. But she isn’t you, obviously. She’s the culmination of everything I know and remember about you and will behave as such. You understand that?”

It was adorable how she furrowed her brow in thought. After a moment, she nodded and slowly made her way towards the door. She stopped right in front of it, laying a hoof on the wood. “It feels so real,” she remarked.

I chuckled quietly and with no small amount of pride. “Yeah, it better. I was so shocked and impressed when Applejack grew that thing in a couple of seconds…” How had she done that, though? It was frustrating, knowing only parts of a story. At some point, I would have to come to terms with that.

Pinkie looked back, about to ask something, but then just went inside. Once that door closed behind her, my smile fell away from my face. I suddenly felt guilty all over again. Pinkie was such a fun pony to be around. She was sweet and caring and smart in her own weird way and I did not want to cause her to shed more tears. But I had sent her in there. And on some level, I knew that would hurt.

I stepped closer to the door myself, sitting down on my haunches beside it. And then I just… waited. This, my memory told me, was Pinkie’s and Fluttershy’s home. It had been for years. Somewhere in there was a shy little pegasus filly with a hot pink coat and sunflower-yellow mane. Whisper. They had named her Whisper.

After some time, Pinkie reemerged from ‘her’ home. Without speaking a word, she sat down beside me. I immediately shuffled a bit closer and pressed myself against her in an effort to comfort. Those trails on her cheeks her earlier tears had forged were damp again. I gave myself a moment to muster some courage and started to speak again, meanwhile looking out over the fields that sustained this town. “You know… there are many ponies that think of Fluttershy as being ‘weak’. But that’s just a shell. You know that. She’s skittish and easily embarrassed and prefers to be quiet, away from spotlight and attention. But if anyone or anything threatens those dear to her… they will learn of her inner strength. What enables her to stomp right up to an angry manticore. How she makes a fully grown dragon weep and cower. How she effortlessly fights alongside her more capable looking friends against armies and villains alike. But she only uses that strength when necessary. And let’s be honest, she fears her own capabilities.” Somepony should make her feel more comfortable with herself. Maybe coax her out of her shell every now and then.

“You… are different," I continued. "Your merriment is your shield. You wield it proudly, and you defend yourself with it if necessary. But if one were to actually look behind that shield: You’re sensitive. And vulnerable. The most innocent being I know.” If only somepony else would give you a safe space to be defenseless in…

I sighed and smiled. “When Whisper joined, it took the entirety of one week for her to become the CMCs newest club leader,” I stated.

She was sobbing quietly again. But a happy little smile graced her lips. After a moment, she laid her head on my shoulder, looking out over the fields with me. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I had no words for how much it meant to me, hearing that from her.

We sat there for some undefined amount of time. Dawn was coming, I could tell that much. The scenery was breaking apart. Houses vanished, ponies disappeared, the dream broke apart and we fell through the nonexistent floor into a dark void, waking up. That was quite a rude awakening, I really should work on that, I thought while falling.