Dreamwalker's Tale: An Anthology

It started with a kiss, long and longingly. An expression of desire and trust from one side, and love and devotion from the other.

Whenever somepony asked me if I liked adventures, I told them with a wry smile that I am more of an armchair adventurer. This kind of situation admittedly did not come up all that often, for which I was grateful. Because while Twilight carried that name with pride, I could never help but feel like it was marred with something less desirable, something dirty and uncouth. At least in the perception of others. And maybe Twilight carried it so gracefully because she was an actual adventurer as well?

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I could not let my nerves get frazzled. Not now.

What I did like to do: Exploring. But there is a distinct difference between an adventurer and an explorer, at least in my mind. An adventurer is your run-of-the-mill Daring Do. Or your awesome Rainbow Dash. They constantly poke their muzzles into corners of Equus where it most certainly does not belong and most likely is not welcome. They were thrill-seekers. Out there to get their fill of adrenaline, to feel the blood rushing in their ears as the hairs of their coats stood on end in the face of danger and mystique.

An explorer, in my mind, was a lot more subdued. It was not the thrill he sought, the adrenaline, the challenge. No, an explorer could quite easily live without those. He sought, first and foremost, knowledge. Explorers were scholars in their own right. They aimed to understand. To learn. Sometimes, knowledge was its own goal. Sometimes, broadening the horizon of contemporary understanding was enough. While other times, that furthered understanding was in itself a means to an end.

I was an explorer. I deeply cherished taking the occasional stroll. To walk down well-trodden paths and keep my eyes and ears and all other senses peeled. Because exploring did not mean to be on the forefront, to stumble into uncharted territories all the time. There was a lot to explore in familiar areas as well. At any time of any day, something changed. And any day, placed within a year, had seasons affect this further. And any year was part of an age that had its own little storyline. Time, I occasionally realized in awe, was the ultimate storyteller.

On this wonderfully lazy winter evening, I wanted to take a walk. A scenic route I had trodden many times and a path I deeply cherished from the bottom of my heart. I loved, deeply and passionately, what my eyes fell upon. This landscape was so utterly familiar, so many of its features ingrained in my memory, that setting hoof in it felt like… home.

Yet I knew there was something to explore. There always was. And it would be an amusing surprise to see when and where something new would show up.

While I had taken this path numerous times before, I did like to be a little playful occasionally. There were many points of interest, little stops along the path to let me rest and recuperate, to let me linger and just enjoy. They aligned into a pattern, weaved to form my path as clear in my mind as it was before my hooves. Yet every now and then, it was simply delightful to skip ahead a little. Or to linger on one of these spots for a bit longer. To switch things up just a tiny bit.

My eyes threatened to glaze over as I scanned this vista. “Breathtaking,” I heard myself mutter. And it was. And it made me smile.

I knew that my first stop was a little out of the way, off the beaten track. I did consider skipping it entirely this time, but truth be told: I could not tell if the mere thought of skipping ahead was a sign of my own impatience or not, and I did not dare to risk it. For all the patience I had in certain areas, I sometimes lacked it in others. I would take my time. This was worth it. And really, I did not have anything better to do. Because quite frankly, this was the best.

So I steeled my resolve and started my journey. My hooves touched the ground as tenderly as I could manage. Almost as if I was afraid to make any sound whatsoever, despite there being no need to sneak around here. The ground felt warm. Or maybe my hooves were just cold. They sank into short, smooth grass. I reveled in this feeling, leaned down and brushed my cheek against it. Felt every hair tickle me, felt instincts so primal that they easily could have frightened me, were I to give them enough space in my mind to do so.

I knew full well that I could not linger here forever, obviously. My journey had just started and there was much to be seen and done. So eventually, I collected myself and moved on. On towards the highest point in the area. On my way over, I glanced up. And I witnessed such a beautiful display of color that it made my heart sing.

Such an awkward phrase. Singing hearts. It sounded like a medical condition. But there was no better way to describe the flutter. That feeling of joy and happiness that flooded my mind. A bright cerulean, turquoise and light cobalt and pale magenta. The beauty of a new dawn, filled with so much promise and potential. I could not help but giggle. Not chuckle or snicker, no. A full-blown giggle, worthy of a filly. Maybe I should have been embarrassed? But I did not care enough to be. This was a moment of such intimate privacy that I could not care.

My mind drifted off and my eyes slowly fell down from the beautiful heavens to something more tangible. Something to be explored. The highest peak rose above it all, intimidating with its sheer cliffs and narrow ridges. I had conquered it many times before and I would do it again. The daunting incline tried to keep me away, tried to challenge me. And honestly, I was no mountaineer. But all it took was dedication. And patience. I once more conquered the pinprick peak and enjoyed the vista below. The winds sighed around me as I took a moment to relax. I closed my eyes, my nostrils flared and I took in the crisp air of the peak. A faint trace of morning dew and sunflower. It made me smile again.

But as the saying goes, there was no time like the present. And for all the patience I had or could hold myself to, the night only had so many hours and those craved to be used.

My next stop was a flat-vaulted basin. It stuck out from the surrounding area and its rim formed what almost looked like an oval caldera. It was my favorite region in the early stretches of my walk. I tended to linger here for a while, and I saw no reason not to do so this time as well. I took my time. I went all around. I nipped at the ground and enjoyed the rich flavor.

Grazing was something I did little of. A proper meal would always feel more filling and while I did not insist on extravagant meals like the ones Spike continuously spoiled us with, I had a hard time denying that his exquisite cuisine had raised the standards for food considerably. But this was not about getting a meal. I was not pulling and tearing at the grass, oh no. I was carefully tending to it. I traced my tongue along the blades and enjoyed the flavor without any harm done.

“What a delightful little morsel,” I whispered.

In many regards, and despite the armor I could summon at any given moment, I saw myself as a storyteller and not a guard. I hesitated to call myself an artist, though. Because that craft took such tremendous time to learn and master, to perfect a style, to swing a brush around with purpose and use colors I barely knew the names of. But here, right now, I was arrogant. I was self-centered. I felt like I was at the top of the world, and I felt like I wielded the tip of my tongue with the same finesse as an experienced artist might wield his brush.

Honestly, it felt powerful. It felt mighty.

And yet, despite the barely restrained dominance I had over this landscape, I still remained aware enough to keep myself in check. I still held myself to the virtue of patience and persistence and imagination. I, too, was painting a picture now, with little nips and licks and a smile gracing my muzzle as I did.

The wind moaned in my ears as they swiveled around to catch the sound.

When I moved on, I did so without a heavy heart. Contrary to what I expected. Instead, I felt reinvigorated. I felt alive and thrumming with energy. With an urge to take action, to proceed, to do stuff. Was that how Rainbow felt all the time? This incessant need to do things? I tried to imagine it. Tried to put myself into a spot where this was my new ‘normal’, but I simply could not. Apparently my imagination had limits. How disappointing.

My thoughts refocused when I arrived at the crest. I stood up high, above the landscape. Like foothills it stretched into the distance below me, the gentle slope leading away to my next destination. Walking downhill was something I appreciated. Something I liked. Though I could not tell why, exactly. It just kind of felt… nice.

While my hooves carried me forth gently, I showed my continued appreciation by tending to the ground and grass alike. The occasional gust of wind was heard, deep, long sighs in the middle of an open nowhere. It felt peaceful here. Calm. Even when I passed a little blight. A sore spot for my explorer’s eye. Without proper study, it was almost impossible to tell. Without prior knowledge, it was hard to notice the ever so slightly indented stripe on the ground. The grass in this area was buckled in places, squashed flat against the surface. Great care had gone into remedying this situation, but there was only so much that could be done. A great and heavy weight was constantly wearing down on this part. It was gone now, sure. But it would return soon enough.

I left the traces of that burden behind in the meadow. I knew that it needed to be carried. I just wished, sometimes, that I would be strong enough to shoulder at least parts of it, so that it would mar this beautiful place less.

I was not about to let my mood get dragged through the mud, though. Not when this stroll had already provided me with so much joy, such marvelous sights, and still held so much more to experience. When I reached my next destination, I slumped down a little. I caressed the ground beneath me to show my gratitude. I brushed my cheek against the surface and sighed in content. I knew this spot well. On the map that only existed in my head, it was marked for how special it was. The anticipation was already building, I could feel it in the air, I could feel it in my bones. And when I cautiously, tenderly dug my hooves into the soil, I felt a great sense of satisfaction, of connectedness, all the while a subdued tremor rattled the ground ever so slightly.

I can make the earth itself quake with a mere touch.

The thought was amusing. I could not not grin. It again played into that power fantasy. That version of myself that was only restrained because he wished to be. That version of me that could change that exact fact with a mere thought. Slide off the shackles and be free and wild and unyielding.

I could feel the ground itself shift beneath my hooves with anticipation.

Patience, I warned myself as I felt my grin stretch wider, into something almost predatory.

I wandered along the trail and my eyes were drawn to the right. There I saw the downy expanse of flat plains stretch far and wide. I had ventured there so many times and never grew tired of it. It was another little detour on my path. I lingered for a while longer, watching, weighing my options, questioning my reasons. I wondered about my hesitation to visit these familiar grounds. Maybe it was my own impatience with today’s stroll? Or the knowledge that eventually, I would get to take this walk again and then could make up for my neglect threefold.

Now that was an idea.

I passed and carried on and bore a devious grin, I suspected. We’ll meet again. Soon.

My path started to lead me down another slope. And the further down I dared myself into that gorgeous valley, the more apparent my next point of interest became, for from the peaceful fields below rose twin mounds, barely worth to be titled hills. I had conquered the steep incline at the very start to stand victorious upon the peak and I was willing to crown myself king of these mere hills as well.

The closer I drew towards them, the more the landscape around me shifted and changed. The winds picked up in needy gusts while the ground seemed to radiate the warmth of a bright summer’s day. Everything here was soft and lively and welcoming. Everything apart from the small little boulders atop the hills.

It was a delight to set hoof and muzzle to work and notice the winds pick up in response. The elements themselves shifted and contorted, pushed against silken restraints and worked in tandem. The wind moaned, the ground trembled, the heat increased and my smile spread to a grin. The familiarity of it all was like a blanket, covering me with a mantle of security, which in turn only bolstered my confidence. A well-trodden path was one I could stroll down with something almost resembling smugness. But this was not about me. This was about appreciation. It was about exploration. About maybe finding the new within the old. About re-connecting, mingling, merging.

I took my merry time to reacquaint myself with the valley. With all its little nooks and crannies, with the soft lines drawn within it. More than once I looked up and smiled, warm and content, while I appreciated this opportunity. While I appreciated simply being here. Doing this.

Exploration, both of the new and the old, was fun. Simple as that. This was fun. Quite a lot, actually.

“Dream…”

My head snapped up and I looked around, almost startled. Maybe. Maybe? Maybe I had just imagined hearing that. The soft whisper, carried by the now almost continuous gusts of wind, light and floaty. Maybe a Breezie was hiding in the grass somewhere close by. The thought made me giggle a little.

Only after the last remnants of my surprise had faded did a warm blush spread in my cheeks and light up my muzzle. And my ears, most likely, judging by the heat I felt radiating off of them. That sound really had gotten to me. It seeped through my coat, through blood and flesh and right into my bones. And it only served to fill me with impatience. It only made me want to proceed faster. It made my less sophisticated urges rattle on their cage’s bars.

But I was powerful, and mighty, and unyielding. I had to scour my memory to retrieve that feeling, that impression from earlier. I had to drag it out of there with effort, just to stand a chance. But my restraint remained intact.

And only after I checked myself, only after I made sure I could be trusted, did I turn my attention towards the path again. At long last, the end of my stroll drew near. For at the lowest point of that valley lay a cave full of wonders, as it was rich in all I could crave as an explorer. Rich in scents, earthy and earthly. Rich in flavors no ordinary meal would ever provide. Rich in texture beyond what the everyday experience could offer. I tried to be prudent despite my own delight urging me forward.

Impatience, now, would simply not do.

I stepped carefully and started my exploration once more with patience and restraint. Yet the more I discovered familiar sights and sounds, the more my fervor took over. It was a necessary break then to exit, to break away from the devotion with which I had tried to dig deeper and deeper in.

Outside, a storm had been brewing. Winds howled and whined and the earth itself shook in recurring quakes.

While I circled the entrance in an excruciating effort to calm myself, I resigned to focus my attention elsewhere. A boulder of small size near the entrance was more than worthy of all my attention, for its size, its shape, its everything enthralled me just as much as how the landscape reacted to my presence. If I could make my world tremble, if I had the power to make the winds howl my name, then it was worth exploring just how much power I truly held, was it not?

So I decided to alternate. I dug into the deep dark dampness of the cavern with gusto whenever I felt I could, and I retreated to my new little base camp at the little hardened knot above it when I had to come up for breath or due to sore muscles.

The storm got stronger and stronger, the anticipation building higher and higher. I knew that the potion would keep me focused and ready until the early morning hours. This night was all about this gorgeous vista. All about her.

While I sucked with a smile at the little knob and lazily traced the tip of my tongue across it, I entertained the image of how she would eventually get up to raise the sun and how I would chuckle at her funny gait. Later still, she would put on her regalia and I would still have that silly giggle about the lingering blush on her muzzle and the clear signs of exhaustion, paired with a deep sense of satisfaction and the feeling of being spent.

The fantasy made me want to sigh, so I flared my nostrils and inhaled deeply that rich scent of summer’s heat, morning dew and sunflower, underlined with a tangy, heady note of pure desire. Maybe, I realized, inhaling this potent concoction so deeply right now had not been the smartest move, as I felt all the inhibitions break down, all the self-imposed limitations fall away, and all patience crumble to dust.

“Happy Hearth’s Warming, love!” I uttered, my glazed-over gaze fixed onto that most precious of openings.

And I dove in.

The howling winds reached its peak strength, the notes produced no longer audible to pony ears. My landscape, my vista, my entire world shook with tremendous effort, but the silken restraints held tight. I lapped up greedily what I was offered, my eyes closed as I was fully transfixed onto my sense of sound, as I cherished every second of what I heard and committed it to memory as best as I could. Wave after wave crashed into me until finally, the earth itself ran out of energy and slumped back into itself.

The feeling was indescribable. Joy. Satisfaction. Longing fulfilled. What had taken me quite a while was undone in mere moments as I retraced my steps and found myself back at the start. I lifted the blindfold onto her forehead. Once murky ponds of magenta, filled with particles of pure bliss, slowly cleared up with warmth and returning awareness. I pressed against her, not out of neediness or my own urges, but simply because I wanted to be close. As close as I could get.

She caught her breath after a while. Regained some modicum of composure. And quite frankly, that was all I had been waiting for as I lifted my head from her neck and gazed deep into her eyes. “Again?”

A blush spread across her muzzle, tinting alabaster coat in shades of red. A smile as beautiful as it was hungry answered me. “Again!”

I grinned and drew the blindfold over her pretty eyes once more. And I readied myself to take a walk across familiar plains and slopes, conquering well-rounded hills and delving into magnificent caves. I just loved exploring. Maybe this time, I would find something new. Or maybe not. I did not care much either way, I would enjoy the exploration anyway.

It started with a kiss, long and longingly. An expression of desire and trust from one side, and love and devotion from the other.