Dreamwalker's Tale: First (and Last?) Adventure

Chapters

Rarity, the Muse
Partner in Crime (and Life)
Allegiance
Truth
Benevolence
Selflessness
The Magic of (listening to your) Friendship
The Trials of the Worthy
Home, Sweet Home
A True, True Friend

Rarity, the Muse

Another shift was done and my body started to stir. A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered Luna’s feathery farewell. It did not last long, however. I cracked my eye open and despite the early daylight charging in through a gap in the curtains, it was not the light that gave me a slight discomfort. It was the heat.

My gaze fell upon my companion sharing my bed. Twilight still remained fast asleep, caught in a web of pleasant dreams. Lu and I had made sure of that just before parting for the morning. I had to stifle a giggle as I saw Twilight’s lips, slightly parted, a faint snoring could be heard, and there was a thin strand of saliva connecting her tongue to the pillow under her head. I contemplated waking her up, just to tease her about it. She always denied that she sometimes drooled onto the pillow. And while I never quite understood why — what’s so embarrassing about that after all? —, she always got so flustered and blushed so hard and it was always such a beautiful sight to behold.

But as tempting as the idea was, I refrained from following up on it. Today, anyway.

I would have loved to just stay comparatively still and bask in her beauty. To close my eyes again and doze a little. To cuddle up to her and enjoy her companionship. But the fact of the matter was, much to my dismay, that Twilight was a notable part of my current problem. She radiated quite a good deal of heat. Not nearly as much as Celestia did, obviously. But with the wheel of seasons slowly turning towards summer, and me constantly dealing badly with heat, this was getting uncomfortable. It was, luckily, a transitional period of sorts. In a couple of weeks at most, I would have adapted to this and snuggling would be somewhat fine again. But there was a reason I preferred late autumn, early spring, and especially winter. Basically, the entire colder half of the year.

I carefully scooched closer. Just enough that I could crane my neck and place the softest touch of a kiss on her muzzle. Faint. Barely a brush. But she noticed anyway. I had managed to not wake her up and instead she murmured something and closed her lips to form a smile. It stopped the drooling. If she would continue to sleep for another hour or two, maybe the small, damp patch would have dried. Maybe she would not even notice. It was the best I could do for her right now.

I carefully extracted myself from the sheet that currently served as a blanket. Despite my annoyance at the temperatures, I could never truly come to rest without any cover whatsoever. It only added to the nastiness of the situation.

I was honestly quite proud of myself. I escaped the confines of my bed without disturbing Twilight’s sleep. I managed to make it across the room and to the door without stepping on anything, tripping, or placing a hoof on a creaky floorboard. In a castle made of crystal. But then again, I’ve heard and seen weirder things happen. I even successfully opened the door without any noise whatsoever and closed it just as silently.

It was a good morning, all in all.

I made my way to the bathroom, did my morning routine at a leisurely pace — that is to say, I dawdled a lot more than usual — and found my way to the kitchen, where I still followed simple routines and prepared a bowl of cornflakes with some added gemstone dust for Spike and another bowl without for myself. I was pretty sure he would be up and about soon enough.

A quick glance out of the kitchen window made me mentally correct that assumption. It was not quite as early anymore and he tended to be an early riser. So either he had already passed by the kitchen, or he dilly-dallied himself. I looked around, searching for the usual signs. Spike was a creature of habit, like so many beings. He rarely missed out on breakfast, as Twilight was quite thorough with her teachings that breakfast, for whatever reason, was the most important meal of the day. Something she always cited with such conviction that I highly suspected that it was something Celestia had told her once.

And while he gladly washed the dishes he used, he did not like drying them and putting them away again. He usually just laid them out to dry by themselves, and I found no trace of a cleaned bowl or plate.

Maybe he was still cooped up in his room, reading comic books? He did that on occasion. And neither Twilight nor I said anything about it, because those were special days, in a way. It was something he consciously allowed himself and there was no reason to chide him for it if he managed to stay on top of his chores anyway.

All those meandering thoughts were obviously just a welcome time sink. The bowl was prepared anyway, patiently sitting on the counter and uncaring if he would show up or not, while I took my seat on the table and dug my spoon into the milk-covered sweet treats.

“Good morning,” he called out as he entered the kitchen.

I blinked. I had somehow drifted off, deep in thought, without remembering what exactly I had even been thinking about. I stared down into my bowl, only to notice that half of it was gone. I chose to ignore that part. “Well, would you look at that? I was just thinking about you.”

Spike paused for a moment and looked at me with a funny expression. “Okay? Weird.” I just grinned and he continued on, taking the milk and pouring it into the waiting bowl. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Had a nice morning?” I asked. And much to my surprise, he blushed. It was just the faintest tint in his cheeks and judging by the casualty with which he tried to continue the conversation, I could tell that he hoped I would not notice.

“Yeah, sure. Good night’s rest, decent morning, lots of warmth. How about you?” He fidgeted with the milk carton before placing it down, making him slightly more suspicious.

I did not answer immediately and instead chose to let him stew a little while I tried to solve this little puzzle. In those six years, two months and ten days I had now been around, I had seen him grow up a lot. At times, he felt like a little brother to me. And I called him a friend without hesitation. Though coming into their lives at a point where he was still little and innocent made it difficult, at times. Difficult to judge his maturity. I knew that he had a fling with one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Or two. Or all three. I didn’t care much either way, as long as all involved were happy. But just how deep did this relationship go?

Did we have somepony else over for last night? Did somepony sneak out, all stealthy and flushed with trepidation and nervous excitement, in the early morning hours? Or maybe, somepony was still waiting in his room for him to return with breakfast, so they could have a nice morning in bed?

A moment of clarity put my previous assumption into perspective. As far as I was aware — being a single child, for all I knew —, siblings did not care all that much about the love- and sex-life of their other siblings. Neither did they cram their noses into their private affairs, did they?

But then again, in a similar vein to Twilight, maybe I was more than ‘just’ a brother or friend. True enough, it was rare that I felt like a caretaker to him. This might be one of these rare moments then?

I pondered those thoughts for a moment longer until I noticed him getting more and more anxious. Oh, right. Left him to stew. Whoops. I grinned in his direction. “You know, you could just take what you need, a spare bowl or two, some spoons, take the milk with you or some bananas or whatever, and leave. I’m not stopping you.”

It was both hilarious and heart-warming to see his expression change a couple of times. He looked like I had caught him red-hoofed. Then the faint blush returned. Then a warm, grateful smile spread. And then came the happiness, and that smile grew into a beam. Within a few moments, he had gathered everything from several cabinets and drawers. It looked like quite an impressive selection, from what I could tell. So either he wanted to impress, which, knowing Spike, was quite possible… or he tried to cater to several preferences. Maybe those of several ponies.

And just to prove my willing complicity, I deigned his question with an answer. “Oh and my morning was alright, just… you know how it is. Summer is coming. And Twilight is—“

Just as much as I knew him, he knew me. He hastily raised a claw to make me stop. “I do not need to know that!” he said, “In fact, I don’t want to hear that!”

I chuckled as he gathered all his supplies in his arms and ran for the hills. Or the kitchen door. He slowed down after opening it and turned back around halfway with a thankful smile. “Thanks, Dreamwalker.”

“Anytime, buddy.”

He tried to close the door with a foot, but it remained slightly ajar while he made his way down the hallway. I heard some muffled voices a few moments later and knowing the inhabitants of this castle, that was either Twilight, or Spike’s totally non-existent special somepony trying to sneak around in worry, searching for him.

I chuckled to myself and continued to eat my somewhat soggy cornflakes while reminiscing about this morning, now that he had brought it up again. From all the different little details committed to memory, Twilight’s smile stuck out. That smile after I had kissed her. Genuine. Pleased. Full of love.

“And she is so incredibly hot,” I murmured with a grin, completing the sentence Spike had wished not to hear.

“Who is?” a familiar voice spoke up behind me.

I grinned at the faintest hint of jealousy as I turned and greeted Twilight. “Good morning, Twilight. Slept well?”

She smiled in return, stretched her back leg a little and slowly made her way over to the table. “A, uhm… a little sore… but that was to be expected,” she answered with a blush. She quickly refocused and her brow furrowed as she accusingly pointed a hoof at me. “No distractions! Who is ‘incredibly hot’?”

I laughed a little and shrugged. “I was just talking to Spike.” Stew a little, I chuckled internally. But as soon as I saw her eyes take on that pleading expression, I had lost the war. With a smile, I leaned over to her and whispered into her ear. “You are.” Once I leaned back again, I was rewarded with the sight of her blushing quite furiously. She was all flustered and speechless and so unbelievably adorable.

“You are teasing me,” she quietly whined. “It is way too early for teasing!“

My grin only grew. “I am. However, I’m trying my hoof at this whole ‘multitasking’-thing again. I am teasing you, and at the same time, I’m speaking the truth. And at the same time, I’m speaking the truth in more than one layer, as it is both a compliment, a truth and a complaint. Eh? How’s that for multitasking?”

She raised an eyebrow, but smiled while fixing herself her first pot of coffee. And then she stopped in the middle of what she was doing. “A complaint?”

I sighed, but nodded anyway. “Summertime. It’s getting warmer. I woke up and really, really wanted to cuddle you. You looked so enticing. But you were so warm. Well, hot, really.”

She giggled a little and stuck her tongue out at me. And as soon as she inhaled and opened her mouth, I raised an eyebrow and held up a hoof to make her stop. There was a short and wordless exchange as I made myself quite clear to her. She would not apologize for being hot. Ever. No matter the innuendo, no matter the circumstances. That was just ridiculous. Like Celestia apologizing that the rising sun was bright.

Gasp! Who could have known?!

Luckily, Twilight was a very reasonable mare. Most of the time anyway. And Celestia even more so. She had never apologized for her sun’s light waking me up.

She had bought thicker curtains.

I sighed in deeply felt love and satisfaction. Moments like these were plenty. When I felt like I was living a dream. A wistful fantasy, in which there was enough happiness and warmth for everypony. Even greedy old me.

A moment later, Twilight sat down next to me, with a heavy cup of coffee as black as the starless night, and a plate offering a daisy and honey sandwich. The coffee's awful stench quickly permeated the vicinity, but after living years and years with not one, but two avid coffee fanatics — those being Twilight and Luna — I had simply adapted. I did not like the smell. But I could stomach it well enough.

“A balanced diet, I see,” I joked and she leaned over, poking my shoulder with hers.

“Says the one shoveling sugar, milk and cardboard into his mouth,” she retorted.

“You leave my cardboard out of this! This is some high-quality cardboard!” I shot back in faux indignation, and a second later, we both giggled and shared a kiss. I hated that taste of coffee even more than its acrid smell. It was bitter and vile. But I loved the feeling of her lips, so that balanced it out at least. But I had apparently grimaced slightly anyway, as we broke the kiss and she giggled quietly. At least she did not apologize, as she had done for the first couple of times this had happened. I ate a few more spoons and emptied my bowl. “Alright. Enough lovey-dovey time. I got stuff to do,” I announced.

Twilight giggled and tried her best to keep a straight face as she pouted. “Aw. But I love lovey-dovey time.”

I chuckled, leaned in and nuzzled her neck. I sighed in contentment, and in a funny little moment, she did the same, at the same time. I withdrew just enough to once again whisper into her ear. “I do as well, but as far as I remember, you complained about being sore…” And with that, I kissed the tip of her ear and withdrew with a smug grin. Just as I expected, she was red as a tomato. “Also: Didn’t you say there was a new shipment bound to arrive today?”

She furrowed her brow in contemplation, before nodding. “You are right. I… seem to have forgotten about that.”

“Didn’t write it down on your list?” I teased.

She stuck her tongue out for a moment. “I have not looked at my list yet, because I have not had my required minimum coffee intake yet! Because somepony keeps distracting me!”

We stared at each other for an intense moment before once again breaking into giggles soon after. “Right. I’m not going to distract you any further then. I’ll be back around afternoon, early evening, something like that. Have fun sorting your new babies.”

“I will!” she defiantly announced and we parted. I quickly moved over to the sink, gave my bowl and spoon a good rinsing and put it down to dry. And then I was off, with my saddlebags waiting for me at the door where I had placed them the evening before in preparation. Because as the saying went: Preparation was half the battle.

As soon as I stepped outside, I cringed a little. I had to squint and the bright light squeezed tears to my eyes and the sun’s warmth needled my coat. I took a couple of deeper breaths and noticed how even the air itself was considerably warmer than inside the castle. A few seconds and my body adapted. Well — as well as it could, anyway. It was still somewhat uncomfortably warm and brighter than I was used to.

I walked down the stairs and looked around, searching for any clues that a chance encounter with Derpy might happen, but our resident mail mare was nowhere to be seen. So I started to make my way over to Carousel Boutique.

Spike had come home with the invitation two days ago. He had apparently helped Sweetie Belle with something, and then escorted her back home to Rarity’s place. As usual, he talked to her and the topic came up if he would deliver a request for her.

Basically all of my friends knew that I had taken a lot of lessons at the spa by now. And I did not mind at all, despite some of them choosing to tease me about that. Rainbow and Applejack, first and foremost, though on occasion even Derpy. Then again, the latter enjoyed some flirtatious banter while being massaged, so that put quite a spin on the whole deal.

Fluttershy knew a thing or two about caring for others as well, although her focus was obviously more set on critters. But she could give a hearty back massage, thanks to some problems her bear friend Harry seemed to have on the regular.

With both our powers combined, we sometimes helped our friends out. And we talked about it of course. That was the only way I could have ever learned that Rainbow quite enjoyed it on occasion, but she not only preferred Fluttershy doing it — as Applejack just did not have enough time to learn the techniques —, but she also insisted that she keep quiet about it. Had Fluttershy not prattled away at one point, I would never have known. And I Pinkie Promised her that I would keep quiet about it. So Rainbow continued to tease me and I continued to feign ignorance. And occasionally, I smiled in a way that made her stop and quickly switch topics.

Point being: Rarity had asked for me to bring my supplies along.

While I did not know for certain, I had my suspicions as to why she was inviting me to her boutique with my care package. Less than three months ago, Fluttershy and Pinkie had thrown a really good party. To announce Fluttershy’s pregnancy. And I suspected that Rarity’s and Fluttershy’s usual weekly spa dates had become a little bit less of a weekly affair. Fluttershy would try, of course. And apologize profusely if she could not make it. And Rarity would deflect and insist that everything was fine. To be fair, their spa dates were more about gossiping and getting pampered than anything else.

And if she wanted to get pampered, or really wanted to relax, she would have gone to the spa anyway. Alone, if necessary. Because even after all the lessons, I was still very much an amateur. And one does not put a bandaid on a broken leg when a doctor is nearby.

So I continued to merrily trot through all too familiar streets, smiling and occasionally waving to the familiar faces, exchanging greetings and short platitudes. I passed by Sugarcube Corner and slowed down once the enticing smell tried to lure me in. Sugary goodness. Strawberries. Cherries. Pineapple. A waft of… cinnamon.

Damn.

I stopped. And closed my eyes. I tried to fight as I felt my muzzle scrunch up, but in the end, the battle was already lost. “That’s just not fair, Pinkie,” I whined quietly while I turned around and headed for the door. Once I pushed past, I was greeted with the usual morning hustle and bustle. Customers of all colors milling about, no table was truly free, but everpony was quite happy to share free seats with each other, even relative strangers.

I walked up to the line and sighed in defeat. And judging by that very cheery voice emanating from behind the counter, I would get my chance to appropriately complain about it to the right face. The line was fast-moving, customers ordered, orders arrived from the kitchen — or were already waiting in the showcase — and the next stepped up to the counter. I rarely stood still for more than a couple of seconds. And thus, I quickly stood face to face with Pinkie.

“Pinkie,” I pressed through gritted teeth in mild annoyance.

And she just beamed at me. This smile of hers could bring down any defense. I had tried to fortify myself against her charms, knowing full well how she fought her battles, and yet here I stood, utterly defenseless and unable to keep myself from smiling. Cursed be this mare!, I internally whined.

“Hiya Dream!” she squealed, only to lunge over the counter and hug me. Without her back hooves ever leaving contact to the floorboards. Her entire body just seemed to stretch. But as usual, I did not question that at all. Just Pinkie being Pinkie.

And Pinkie-hugs, to be fair, were quite nice. She was soft and smelled of all the sugary delights the bakery offered. Meaning right now, she smelled of a lot of fruits I favored, and cinnamon. My archnemesis. My Achilles’ heel. My one true weakness. And she knew!

What kind of worked in my favor was the season. Pinkie was quite warm. As was the bakery itself, because the kitchen was nearby. And with the main room being packed with customers right now, well. It diminished just how much I could enjoy the hug, and helped me keep a somewhat clearer mind.

“You lured me in here!” I complained.

She twirled a non-existent mustache and giggled. “No idea what you’re talking about, silly!” And goodness gracious, she was such a bad liar. Applejack would have been proud.

I heard somepony clear his throat somewhere behind me. I could not imagine someone being impatient. Not already and not in Ponyville. But it did remind me that the line had obviously reformed behind me and that I should not keep the booming morning business on hiatus for too long. “Fine. Gimme those goodies,” I relented and just as expected, her beam only grew to even more physically impossible sizes. After a moment of thought, while she packed up my order, I added something. “And a chocolate chip cupcake. One with the molten core, if you have one.”

She paused in surprise for just a fraction of a second, before diving under the counter again and reemerging with my increased order. In the meantime, I had levitated my pouch out of my saddlebags and put a decent amount of bits on the counter. It was obviously a good deal more than the order would cost. Because at the end of the day, what was money there for anyway. She would be happy. And that was worth it.

“There you go!” she said, carefully shoving my order to my side. She looked at the bits and raised an eyebrow, and surely she would have at least tried to protest, but I had wizened up to her antics a long while ago. I had stepped to the side and levitated my order over to me, while the next pony in line stepped up and already ordered, leaving Pinkie no choice but to continue her work.

She did shoot me a nasty ‘we’ll talk about this later!’-look. Or rather, as nasty as she could look anyway, which was to say — she pouted a little, in a very adorable way.

I tipped my non-existent hat in her direction with a smug smile and made my way to the exit. It was becoming uncomfortably warm in here and I preferred my treats unmelted. Not that being outside, standing in the direct sunlight, was any better.

Luckily, there was not that much way left to pass and soon enough, I knocked on the door of Carousel Boutique, entering immediately after. “Rarity?” I called out while closing the door. And I heaved a little sigh of relief. Not only was it nice to get out of the immediate sunlight, the high ceiling and big, open room did its part to keep things a little bit cooler as well.

I was considering calling for her again when she emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea floating behind her. “Terribly sorry for the delay, dear. Welcome! Welcome. How have you been?” She walked up to me and after a critical glance at me, refrained from hugging me. Which I appreciated a lot, to be honest. She instead walked past and turned the Boutique’s sign to ‘closed’.

I could not help but notice the fainting couch she had already rolled into place, right in the center of her showroom, with a stool and a small side table nearby. I smiled, walked over and put my saddlebags down, opening them and carefully extracting all the goods and supplies. While the assortment of oils, lotions and little tools grew, she returned to me and sat down on the couch.

“Well, you’ve already noticed for yourself,” I started with a lopsided smile. “It’s warm. And I can’t stop complaining about it. I mean, it’s nothing new at this point and in a week or two, I’ll be fine again, but… you know. I feel sorry for Celestia. I keep complaining and she tries to accommodate me, but goodness gracious, it’s so hard to keep my mouth shut at times. How about you? How come you send for me, instead of going to the spa?”

While she had listened intently throughout my mini-rant, she sat her tea cup down and sighed. “It just isn’t the same without Fluttershy.”

I furrowed my brow. Just the way in which she had said that implied that there was a lot more waiting to be said, yet she remained silent for now, almost absentminded. “Did you ask her?” I wanted to know.

Rarity blinked and shook her head a little. And I started to notice the signs. Despite her makeup, there were little bags under her eyes. Her eyes were more bloodshot than usual as well. And she moved with a faint sluggishness that spoke of tiredness. “No,” she admitted. “And even if she would have had the time, I fear I would not myself. This entire last week has been quite horrible, actually. I have pulled my fair share of all-nighters before, but maybe I have bitten off more than I can chew this time.”

“Again,” I mumbled under my breath. And it was a telltale sign that she either truly did not seem to notice, or did not care enough to ask. “So what’s the goal here?” I asked her a little bit louder this time. “You’re totally going to fall asleep on me. I don’t think we need to discuss that point, right?”

There was a slight hint of embarrassment in her features, followed by a nod. “No, I do not think we need to. I know that it is the middle of the day, but, well, I was hoping to… there is still a lot to be done. I have at least another day or two ahead of me.”

Middle of the day? Goodness, Rares. When did you last take a look out of a window?! I kept my thoughts to myself and smiled. “So this is just to patch things over. Get you a nice fix of sleepy times and right after, you’re going to continue to run yourself into the ground?”

There was a pained smile on her lips as she regarded me with some trepidation. “Something like that?”

And it was a question. I did not know what crazy stunt she had managed this time. What project of unfathomable size she had managed to harpoon. But Rarity was passionate, and she was one of those ‘all or nothing’-mares. I could relate to that — being quite horrible at keeping things balanced myself. So I was in no position of judging her anyway, and in no mood to do so either. As a good friend, I should probably have tried to be the voice of reason, but whatever she had gotten herself into, it was long past that point of careful reconsideration. I glanced at the massaging supplies I had brought along and fixed my resolution. Right now, I was about to do as much for her as I could, as a good friend.

“Alright, let’s get started then,” I answered. I had not noticed her waiting with bated breath.

Only when I agreed did she dare to exhale in relief and allowed herself a grateful, if tired, smile. “Oh thank you, dear.”

“Nah. Don’t worry. But before we start, uh… you got some napkins?”

“Napkins?” she echoed in mild confusion, “Whatever do you need napkins fo—… oh.”

I levitated two cupcakes out of my saddlebag and grinned in her direction. “I think it might have been some time since you last had a proper meal. Now, that is to say, I wouldn’t count this as a ‘proper meal’, but if you don’t tell Pinkie, or Twilight, or Spike, or anyone else, I won’t either. Deal?”

She giggled. A nice sound, very dainty and ladylike. And after a moment to recompose herself, she nodded with vigor and levitated some napkins out of the kitchen. The reach and fine control she had with her levitation impressed me time and again, as I saw the door swing open and heard drawers being opened and closed.

“We have a deal,” she belatedly answered and subconsciously licked her lips while she stared at the treat.

I chuckled to myself and nodded. And so, we each took our cupcakes. “To the cupcake conspiracy!” I toasted.

“To the conspiracy!” she replied with a dramatic flourish and we carefully bonked our cupcakes together.

Sugarcube Corner never disappoints. It was a lesson I already knew when I arrived here and that had been reinforced on each and every occasion. A rich flavor of apples, milk chocolate, cinnamon and a faint hint of cherries flooded my senses. “I should totally have stolen Pinkie for myself,” I murmured as a joke as I delighted in the goodness of the cupcake.

Rarity seemed in her own little blissful realm, but still very much capable of acknowledging my declaration. “You should have,” she agreed with an appreciative hum. “It would have been so much easier to steal her from you than from dear Fluttershy! I could never do such a despicable thing to her.”

We looked at each other for a moment before we giggled madly. “You know that she probably heard that, right?” I said, and even gave the room a look, just to be sure that Pinkie was not, in fact, posing as a lamp post right now. Or a potted plant. Which honestly still left the option that she was in the potted plant somehow, but oh well.

Rarity considered that prospect for a moment before shrugging. “Most likely, yes.”

“Wow. You seem strangely unfazed by this,” I noted with a grin.

And again, she just took a dainty nibble of her cupcake, enjoyed the molten chocolate core and shrugged. “Well, she is one of my closest friends and such a lovely pony. Plus, her shape is quite easy on the eyes, very curvaceous. And I say that purely as an artiste, of course.”

I choked for a moment before snorting. “Didn’t see that one coming, sorry.” I coughed a couple of times with the napkin in front of my muzzle and shook my head while chuckling. I noticed her smug smile as well. “Of course, sure. You know, someday, we ought to talk about all of our friends. Just to, you know, gossip a little.”

And with the smile of a fisher reeling in his catch of the day, she gave a curt nod. “Someday.”

We both fell silent for a while, as we continued our little feast until all was gone and the used napkins floated back into the kitchen, to be dumped into the trash can. From what I could already tell by just looking at her, that meal had been the first in a decent number of hours and would do nothing to keep her awake any longer. Quite the contrary, in fact. But I did not mind that. “Alright, make yourself comfortable.”

And so she did, placing herself belly down on the couch and stretching all her limbs away, so that I could get easy access to just about any part of her. It was a display of trust that I silently appreciated while opening the vanilla scented tincture. A few droplets on my hooves and I started to feel out what I would have to work with. She was unsurprisingly tensed up just about everywhere. From what she had said and implied so far, she had probably slept a couple of odd hours here and there, slumped over a desk or roll of fabric, brought down by sheer exhaustion. The initial massage would border on painful. There was only so much I could do to ease that, and she knew it. “Rares, relax. It’s not going to get any easier if you try to prepare yourself.” She tried. And seeing her somewhat fail made me think of a way that would work. I quickly concluded that I required a distraction and so long as she was awake — why not talk some more? Preferably with her doing most of the talking. “So, tell me. How are things with Fancy and Fleur?”

Rarity quickly picked up on my intention as usual and tried to relax into it with a sigh. “Marvelous, really. Of course I wish I could see them more often. I start to realize I may not be built for long-distance relationships. I know it took me a couple of years to realize that, do not dare to laugh at me!”

I just smiled warmly and started to really press into the first of her many, many knots, eliciting a small hiss from her. “I had no intentions to do so, Rarity.”

She nodded, content with that. “Good. Just l-ah… just last week, Fancy accompanied me to another presentation in Canterlot. Hoity Toity was hosting the event and Fleur had been hired to model his new line. Sh-oof… She looked gorgeous up there on stage. Such poise. Such elegance.” To give her a little bit of time to recuperate, I turned my attention further down, and started my way up her back legs to her rump. Something that drew her attention as she shot me a daring look. “Careful now. You would not want to upset two members of the Canterlot eli—“

I did not let her go on any further and instead pressed right into her cutie mark and elicited a quiet gasp and a playful ‘how dare you’-look from her. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I quickly confirmed. “Then again, to be quite honest, I don’t think I care much about their opinion on the matter. Fancy seems nice enough. I can’t recall ever talking to Fleur. And I’m not exactly a socialite myself. I’m more of a recluse, you see? And if I care at all, I probably care more about what my friend thinks.” With a slow moving, circling motion, I massaged her flank and saw her gaze grow a little bit hazier. “And right now, I’m slightly worried she might be weak of will. Which I would obviously never abuse.” And just like that, I withdrew my hooves, only to return to her back legs.

I politely ignored that needy little whinny, just as I ignored that brief period of her face flushing in embarrassment.

“I really should not start battles I cannot hope to win,” she murmured more to herself than to me.

“That would be wise, yes, especially given your current condition,” I answered anyway, and she refrained from any verbal duels as she saw my sly grin. I was just ready to take her down a peg or two. Just to demonstrate that right now, she really was not up to par.

To bridge the potentially awkward gap of silence, I just followed up with another question designed to keep her both talking and distracted. “So, how is Sweetie doing?”

Rarity once again quickly picked up on it and relaxed into my ministrations once more. “She is still quite a hoof full. I think at some point, we had all hoped that getting their cutie marks would calm them down somewhat, but here we are, years later, still shaking our heads about their antics on a weekly basis.”

I chuckled a little. “Well… better weekly than daily, am I right?”

“Quite,” she agreed. “And how is Spike doing?”

I lost my rhythm for a moment, out of sheer amusement, before I continued. “I suspect you’re asking this for the same reason I was asking about Sweetie.”

“So neither of us knows anything substantial,” she concluded and I could hear her creasing her brow more than I could see it. “I must admit, I am impressed. Sweetie Belle usually is not this good at keeping secrets. From me, especially.”

“Well, to be fair, we don’t know if these two are a couple or not. She would obviously know how things are situated, with all of them being this close, but, you know… doesn’t mean she’s directly involved.”

Rarity craned her neck a little to look at me with a doubtful expression. “Dear. Really? Have you seen how these two look at each other?” After my noncommittal shrug, she just relaxed back down onto the couch. “Then again, that is the crux of it, is it not? Those same glances I have seen between other… combinations. To be honest, at this point, I highly suspect that they have discovered the concept of a herd for themselves. Maybe someone tipped them off to the idea…”

“Me? Naaahhh, couldn’t be… I mean, how? Just because I date, like, three of their princesses?” While I put a certain amount of dramatic flair into my statement to make quite clear how ridiculous I found that idea to be, I could not help but notice certain parallels. Spike was potentially running around successfully wooing three mares. I wondered if he sometimes wondered just how exactly he came to be this lucky too. Maybe I should ask him about it in detail at some point soon.

I turned my attention back to Rarity. The first round was done at this point, much to her relief. It would get easier from here, and a lot more comfortable. Which also meant that she would most likely be dozing off soon enough. “Do you intend to give Sweetie — or all of them — ‘the talk’?” I asked out of curiosity.

After all, Rarity was involved in a somewhat unconventional relationship herself. A neat little triangle, closed on all sides. Less geometrically complex than what I had going on. Or Spike, potentially.

Rarity considered her answer for a moment before slightly shaking her head. “No, I do not think so. Not yet, anyway. They still appear to be very keen on keeping it a secret. I must admit that occasionally frustrates me to a certain degree. But such is young love, I suppose. I will take them aside and have a talk with them if it becomes necessary. And quite honestly, I am not even sure it will. Sweetie Belle is naïve, but Apple Bloom is not. Scootaloo is very… enthusiastic, but Spike is very thoughtful. And on top of it all, my little Spikey-Wikey knows just who to ask if all the books in that beautiful castle of Twilight will not help him. And he has a lot of decently competent ponies to ask. Despite my burning curiosity, I like to think they complement each other quite well, and thus, they will be fine.”

To be fair: Right now, right here, I could relate so, so much to her feelings as the older sister, desperately wanting to pry into her younger siblings affairs. So maybe this was a sibling-thing after all.

“Well, if all else fails,” I started with a chuckle, “I happen to know that a certain Dragon Lord is quite keen on getting closer to our resident dragon emissary. And there’s this really cheery griffon lady that just seems to swoop by quite often, out of sheer coincidence. He’s quite the charmer, isn’t he?”

Rarity giggled a little and nodded enthusiastically. “That he is.”

“Do you regret it sometimes?” I asked, both more serious and quieter. I was unsure if my question was appropriate to ask to begin with. After all, we had been joking around a lot so far, and this question bore the potential to massively shift the tone of our conversation.

But it quickly turned out that she did not mind. “No,” she resolutely answered. “Never. It might have been a misfortune in some way. But when I got to know him, he was just a child. He grew into a fine young gentledrake and I am certain that he will make whoever manages to capture his heart very, very happy. But never, not once, did I regret not giving in. I love him dearly — as a friend.”

I chuckled again. “Fair enough. And with that much conviction behind it, I guess you had to answer that question a couple of times already. Sorry about that.”

“It is fine. I do not mind,” she reassured me, and with a happy sigh, melted even further into the couch as I worked my way along her sides. “Sweet and precious Celestia, this feels divine…”

“Glad to hear that. Though I’ll be honest, I think you’re overselling me a bit.” She did not jump on the option for some more banter, which already spoke volumes about her state of mind. She would drift off shortly, surely. So maybe choosing another topic with a more superficial nature would be a good idea. Something easy, that would not bother her mind too much. “So I’ve been thinking about a Hearth’s Warming present for Twilight.”

She quietly giggled due to my odd choice. “Hearth’s Warming? Was that not, what, barely five months ago?”

I shrugged and continued on anyway. “Preparation is half the battle, you know? Anyway. I think I have decent ideas for Luna and Celestia already. But you know Twilight, she’s… difficult.”

And she giggled again. “No, she is most certainly not difficult. Wrap up a book, any book, and you will hold the key to her heart.”

This time, I had to chuckle along with her. “Yeah, well, sure. I could do that. Or. I could try something a tad more original and less obvious.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed. And I was not sure if she hummed due to her enjoyment of the treatment, or if she was giving my statement some thought, or if she was almost asleep. It only cleared itself up once she spoke up again, after two or three whole minutes. “Are you not a smith? Maybe make some jewelry for her? A hornband? A hoofring?”

She was slurring a lot at this point. Not like a drunk, but like somepony half asleep. Though I had to admit, she presented an interesting point. While I was not a smith per se, not in this cycle, I understood a lot about smithing from previous ones. And both Luna and Celestia understood a lot about enchanting. If I could manage to rope either of those two into my devious plans, I would surely create something special.

“Needs something special though,” Rarity mumbled, as if reading my thoughts. “Maybe some nice gemstones or… gold or…”

She did not finish her sentence. I waited while I continued my work, but a couple of minutes later, soft snoring informed me that she had, in fact, reached her desired destination. And left me to ponder an idea I had not anticipated. Sure, Hearth’s Warming was far off. For now. But metalworking could take time. Especially when enchanting was involved. I needed to think about what enchantments I would like to place on the item. I would need to make a cast for the metal to be poured into. I would need to research materials to begin with. Gold was always a fine choice, and with me not doing the enchanting, it would not matter as much that it was a lot harder to enchant it.

But my mind kept spinning faster and faster and quickly produced the question: What if I were to use something else? Something less mundane, less ordinary than ‘just gold’, or ‘just silver’, or ‘just iron’? What other materials were there? Materials a smith could work with. Enchanted bark and leather were useless to me, after all.

I would need to dig into the library once I returned home.

I carefully finished my treatment of Rarity’s slumbering form, capped off my lotions and closed the bottles of my oils. Everything went back into the saddlebag and I washed my hooves in her kitchen sink. I returned to the couch and bent down to place a soft kiss on her temple. “Thank you, Rares. You continue to be a true inspiration.” I made my way to the door, ready to step into the midday heat and right before I closed it, I took a final look at her. She slept peacefully, a demure smile on her lips. It was certainly not the first time an off-hoofed comment of hers had sparked my imagination.

The Element of Generosity. Giving bits, hats, tails and… ideas.

Partner in Crime (and Life)

Late afternoon, the sun was slowly sinking on its way to the horizon, and I felt giddy with excitement. In fact, the amount of nervous energy buildup had been quite ridiculous over the last hour or so, and on several instances had I started pacing around, only to once again settle in front of the fireplace in Celestia’s study and eagerly watch the sun agonizingly slowly crawl its way down.

She would be here soon. I hoped. And with little else to do, my mind had started to keep itself occupied. With stupid one-liners and quips I could greet her with. With jokes and random, stray thoughts that kept me busy for a couple of minutes, before my impatience caught up with me again. I had even settled on one of these quips, and was now even more eagerly awaiting her arrival, just to see her face.

One last time, I told myself again while I glanced at her desk. I had taken the liberty of removing a bunch of her usual bric-a-brac. Empty sheets of paper had been sorted away to a side table. Inkwell — side table. Feather case — side table. Actually, that side table looked a little overloaded. Oh well. It stood in the corner of the room for now, so nopony should accidentally bump against it and make a mess. Especially seeing as usually, only Celestia herself and I were roaming around in here.

The desk itself was everything but empty though. I had sprawled out my map and fixed it in place with what I assumed were paperweights. A stack of papers was waiting on top of it – Moondancer’s transcription of the book passage. And my saddlebags currently occupied her chair. There really was not a lot to miss or forget about. I had made us a pot of tea, with two cups waiting. My tea was terrible. For her refined tastes anyway. I knew that much and yet I made the occasional pot here and there anyway. And she drank it and said it was terrible and that she loved it. And I loved her and everything was fine.

Terrible tea, it turned out, could be a good thing. Somehow.

At least it made us smile each and every time. And it had become a sort of wordless communication. A ritual, almost. I rarely bothered with the tea — since it was terrible and all that. But when I did, it usually meant I was willing to go the extra mile and that whatever I wanted to bring up was something important. Maybe not important to the fate of Equestria. But certainly important to me. She had picked up on that early. A lot sooner than I had myself, which maybe should have been embarrassing, but then again, she was Celestia. A couple thousand years of dealing with ponies probably helped a lot in understanding them and predicting their behavior.

I was considering if maybe I should get up again and somehow organize for the kitchen staff to bring us some snacks. But that line of thought was cut short when I heard it. That telltale click, when the door handle was pushed down and in reaction to it, all the different enchantments securing the room and its privacy were unlocked. I had become accustomed to it by now. Enough that I could feel the magic working as it disabled itself.

It also meant that she was finally coming.

I jumped to my hooves and whirled around, facing her direction with what I hoped was a smug smile, but more likely looked like the grin of a madpony. “You love Twilight, don’t you?”

Building excitement sometimes was a bad thing. The timing was all kinds of wrong. She stopped dead in her tracks, looked at me in bewilderment first, before a many-layered smile played on her lips. Her eyes quickly glanced to the side and she noticed the changes to her desk. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly as she took in the aroma of the tea that surely permeated the entire room by now. Had I waited just a couple of seconds longer, showed just that tiny smidge of self-restraint, maybe I would have seen her blush in sheer surprise. But I just had to blurt it out like a teenager eager to ask for a date.

Oh well. There would always be a next time.

Celestia, for her part, unfroze herself and took three more steps to fully enter the room. “Well, this should be interesting,” she said in her serene, calm voice. But I saw that amused twinkle in her eyes. She closed the door with her magic and the enchantments realigned themselves to reinstate the protective bubble of dozens of spells.

Instead of dealing with me right away, she took her time. Because she was a mean pony and a tease. Given such a prime opportunity, I could not begrudge her this. She slowly lifted her regalia off of her, putting it down on the half-ponykin nearby. She stepped out of her horseshoes. She craned her neck and stretched her legs and back, just for good measure.

And to put on a little show, I suspected. I could not not stare. Ponies rarely wore clothes anyway. And this was not about the ‘clothing’, if one were to even describe her regalia as such. This was a transformation of sorts. The Princess of Equestria had stepped into this room, and right in front of my eyes, the layers of decorum and false pretenses were peeled off, and my lovely Sunny emerged. And such a pretty mare she was.

Her faint giggle broke my reverie.

“You can close your mouth now,” she whispered and walked over to me.

I did not blush. Of course not. I would never grant her the satisfaction of knowing how to push my every button. So I did not blush. It was just warm in here. Yes. Warm.

In an attempt at self-defense, I filled both cups with tea and levitated one over to her. “Want some?”

She eyed the poison with a critical glance, before taking it into her own magic with a smile. “Do you not think that you might be overreacting? Was I really that bad of a pony to deserve this?”

With a few more steps, she stood right before me. And as usual, she towered over me by a good deal of height difference. She sat down on the thick, plush carpet beneath us and I was finally allowed to properly greet her. One long, deep kiss later, I still felt like I wanted more and stayed close to her. I slowly brushed my neck along hers, nuzzled into her mane and enjoyed the almost electric sensation thoroughly. “Hey love,” I whispered as I inhaled her scent with every breath. Summer heat, morning dew and sunflowers. “I missed you,” I added. To be fair, that had been my own fault. Nopony had forced me to stay apart from the ponies I loved for the entire time I had been here. Nopony but me. Moondancer’s presence had certainly helped, but in the same way a patchwork bridge helped with a gap for a couple of uses before its improvised nature became apparent.

“I missed you too,” she replied and pulled back to steal another kiss from me. I was all too happy and eager to oblige. Just being this close to her, feeling the warmth she radiated, seeing her genuine smile — it made all the anxious energy from before drain away. I had occasionally entertained the thought that her calming presence might actually be some sort of supernatural aura. Maybe it was.

Instead of pondering this once more, I moved over to her side and sat down next to her. She usually would have put a wing over me and I loved the gesture. It was intimate. But she knew that I was already struggling with the change of seasons and she was quite warm already, without offering me a thick, downy blanket. In an ultimately inadequate attempt to compensate, I leaned against her and we both took a sip from our cups.

“Tastes awful,” I concluded with a quiet chuckle. “Too much tea in my tea.”

And while she giggled for a brief moment, she shook her head afterwards. “The amount of tea is not the issue this time.” She took another sip, barely grimacing at all. “You used boiling water and you let the tea settle for too long.” I looked into my cup as if the tea itself would nod in confirmation of her assessment. So that was where the unexpected bitterness came from? “It does taste awful, though,” she agreed, and I could hear the mirth in her voice.

I shrugged and downed the rest in my cup, just to be done with it. “Uargh. Phew. It really does.”

For a few precious minutes, we settled into a comfortable silence. This could not go on forever of course. And my weak will to break this moment made that task fall to her. “To answer your question,” she started, “Yes. Yes, I do. Very much. My faithful—… Twilight has been nothing but an inspiration to many ponies, myself included.”

It took me a moment to realize what she was even talking about, as I had already forgotten about my entire spiel from earlier. I smirked a little about her stumble. In a sense, Twilight would probably remain her faithful student for the next couple of centuries. For somepony that was used to the idea of counting centuries, she had made a fast and deep connection with this student of hers. Twilight had left quite the impression. But then again, that was just what she did. “Do you want to tell me what this is about, then? Why am I not allowed to use my desk this evening?” Celestia added.

I considered my options. How to best approach this conversation. I had done so before, of course, but while I had managed to decide on that stupid little quip, I had not been able to settle on a course of action once the actual conversation was concerned. Many angles, many pitfalls. In the end, I just silently sighed and resorted to my usual habit of just winging it. “Alright. But first… can you do your thing?”

She looked at me, first in mild confusion, then recognition. And a small smile lit up her features. “The one wherein I silently sit here and listen patiently until you have explained everything, eventually repeating yourself? Or the one where I slowly raise an eyebrow to question your motives, ideas or sanity?”

I chuckled a bit and nodded. “Yes. First one first, and we’ll see about the other.”

She leaned down and after another kiss, she gave a curt nod. “Very well. You may start.”

I had to wrangle my goofy grin first, but after a moment, I tried to explain myself. “Right, so. This idea started… about a week ago, or so. I’m not entirely sure, some of those last days had been a bit of a blur. Before all that, I went to visit Rarity and we talked about some stuff. Smalltalk, really. But you know how she is. She gave me an idea. And I followed that up by taking a train and I lived in the Archives for a bit. Moondancer helped me out a lot. Like… a lot. None of this would have been possible were it not for her. She helped me find the right books. Which is a librarian’s job, I guess. But she also helped me translate another book. And she helped me with the map. Anyway, point is: I want you to take a vacation. With me.”

I looked up at her and tried to gauge her first reaction, but my love had effortlessly slipped into her Princess persona and nothing, not even the end of the world, would be able to even crack that calm, unmoving façade. She waited patiently for me to continue, so I did. “That map over there depicts a section of the western parts of the Forbidden Jungle. There’s a couple of… hm… I’m not entirely sure. Ruins, I guess? Temples? There’s a couple of things there. Relatively close to each other, which makes sense given they are part of a trial, I guess.”

“The jungle?” she interrupted me, much to my surprise — and judging by her expression, even her own. “You want us to go into the jungle? You don’t like high humidity.”

“I know,” I replied with a grin.

“Or heat,” she continued with a furrowed brow.

“I know,” I answered once more.

“Or insects.”

“…”

“Or the wilderness in general, really.”

“…”

“You don’t even like camping.”

“…”

Of course I had realized that she was just rattling down all the things that were wrong with my proposal. All the really obvious things that immediately sprang to mind. Hers, and mine. After all, those were all good and valid points I had tried to plan for, tried to consider myself.

And after a moment or two, she realized that this was probably the case, and that I was just waiting for her at this point. She shook her head with a smile. “I feel like I might have been more spot on than I first imagined. This seems as if it will be quite interesting indeed. Please, I interrupted you. Continue.”

“Right. Uh… where was I?” I scratched my neck in confusion, trying to mentally walk back a couple of steps in our conversation. But she quickly helped me out with a simple “the jungle” and I nodded gratefully. “Jungle, right. So. I gave it some thought. I know how ridiculous that sounds. I don’t… I mean… I like adventure stories just fine. But when it comes to my own real life, I prefer to have them take place indoors. I’m well aware of that. And considering how every bloodsucker out there seems to be out for my blood specifically, I’m really not looking forward to this part of the journey. Mosquitos as large as rats. That’s a nightmare for a pony that gets bitten twelve times in one night while wrapped in a blanket, with four friends without blankets sleeping near the windows, and they get away scot-free.”

“Don’t forget about the leeches,” Celestia added with a smirk.

“Riiight. Thaaank you. Leeches. Goodness, hadn’t even considered those.” A small shudder made me tremble at the mere thought of having to pick those off of me. “Ergh. That’s a problem for future-Dreamwalker. So anyway. I was thinking… two days of prep time, max. I’m heading home to Ponyville, and I’ll be asking Rarity if I can lend us her camping kit. She has this fancy tent that is enchanted to keep the inside nice and comfy — and dry. And it’s self-building, too. Works with a command word, if I remember correctly. So I’m going to get that settled and then I head to Zecora’s for a spell, and ask her to make us two Neverend bottles. Those, uh… those water bottles that contain a lot more than is physically possible? I have no idea how you get clean, drinkable water in a jungle. Those bottles should solve the issue altogether. Food will be a bit more of a problem. Right now, I’m thinking one week, tops. But food for one week for the two of us will be a bit of a nuisance. It’s a lot to carry. Haven’t quite figured that out yet. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something. On that map, I have marked out the perfect spot for our base camp. It’s a small hill. All our targets are within reach of one day of travel. So after I get our supplies, I use the teleportation stone to come back to Canterlot, you teleport the both of us to the jungle, we set up camp with a fancy tent and then we just explore these marked places. Oh, right, I almost forgot! You will probably want to start with ‘oh but what about the throne’ and such. And to curb any weird metaphors about how Equestria isn’t a teenager anymore and could stay at home without supervision from mommy for a week, I will just say this: You feel needed. And you need that, and I get that. I don’t want to take that from you. Ever. But the fact of the matter is, they depend on you. Heavily. And they always will, unless you make them change something. Luna has been catching up to modern times for a decade now. She’s slowly eased her way back into the wheel. The Night Guard is back in action. The Night Court is doing fine. I think she would be itching to try her hoof on taking over for a while. A week should be a good trial for her. Not too much, so that she shouldn’t completely lose it. After all, ‘only seven days and sister dearest will be back to listen to these pricks rattle on about their self-importance’. But it won’t be too short either. She would get a good impression of how things are and how things work and what you’re dealing with on a day-to-day basis. I think it would help her out a lot, and make her understand you a good deal better. And I’d like to think that this is a very nice bonus on top of it all. So while I’m over in Ponyville, you talk to her and make the necessary preparations to ease the transition. As I said before — they will panic either way. You can reduce it, but I doubt you’ll be able to prevent it. Dealing with that will be a nice first task for Princess Luna. However, I’m not sure if you should call it a ‘vacation’ in public? How to sell it to the masses, you would know better than I do.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, I fell silent. I thought about it. What was I missing? Had I mentioned everything? I barely noticed her levitating the pot over, refilling my cup. I drank a good half of it without thinking much and although it tasted awful — somehow even worse now that it was cold —, it did not stop me from mulling my plans over. And judging by her furrowed brow, my love was thinking about a lot of this as well.

It was a really, really weird proposition. I was well aware of that. Not only because this idea came from me, of all ponies. Visiting the jungle was one thing. Some ponies liked that. Traveling a lot. Visiting different places. Gawking at the scenery. And all the different plants and flowers and trees and critters. But putting her off-days aside, and excluding our admittedly very nice afternoon get-togethers or romantic evenings, this would be our very first real vacation.

I was actually not even sure if she had had one of those since Equestria had been founded.

“You have given this a lot of thought,” she stated after some time had passed. “And I can hear that you seem quite determined to follow through with this plan.” There was no judgment in her voice. No approval, but no refusal either. Just an observation. “May I ask then. You are willing to brave the wilds and contend with rat-sized mosquitoes and leeches. Which are some of the more common and less troublesome dangers of such environments, as I might add. And you want to head into these regions to search for some possibly long-gone ruins. For what exactly? What is this all about?” I grimaced a little as I started to realize that I had not, in fact, told her. I had said a lot. About many things. But I had failed to reveal what the core of this idea actually was. “I assume it somehow relates to Twilight.”

I sighed and tried to smile apologetically. “It does. Sorry, love, I, uh… I might have gotten a little overzealous.” She gave a nod and waited for me to continue. Yet I hesitated. The last time I told somepony, that pony was Moondancer. And she had looked at me like I had lost my mind. So it was with quite some trepidation that I started speaking. “So, according to the translation, these trials offer access to some very rare materials that could be used in smithing. Sun-blessed gold and moon-blessed silver. Have you ever heard of that?”

She looked surprised for a moment. Surprised to hear those names. Which in turn surprised me. The association with sun and moon was obvious, as were the implications. But I could not imagine her having any actual connection to that stuff. “I have heard of it, yes,” she answered. And for just a second, I did not know what to think or say. One half was glad. Glad that maybe, just maybe, I would not have to go into a jungle of all places. And contend with feline predators and leeches. The other half was sad about just that, about my first outdoor-adventure being canceled before it even had a chance for lift-off. Especially after all the time I had already wasted on its preparations. “However, I do not know how it is produced.” And just like that, the conflict fell away. “I had heard of these materials being used by the ancient civilization that once used to live in these parts, but I had no interest in these hostile lands or their customs at the time.”

I nodded. Maybe with a little bit too much vigor. “Right. So, yeah. Fancy metal. I hope to find that there.” And just like we had agreed upon initially, she slowly raised an eyebrow, wordlessly questioning me. She knew I was not telling the whole truth. And with a sigh, I admitted defeat. “I, uh… intend to build something with it. For Twilight’s Hearth’s Warming.”

The other brow creeped up high and joined its sibling. It was rare to see her astounded. “This,” she breathed, looking around at the map, the almost empty tea pot and me, “all of this. For a Hearth’s Warming present?”

I freely admitted to myself: This time, I was blushing. Furiously. Moondancer had asked something very similar, and in both instances, it really did start to feel quite silly. “Yes?” I squeaked out.

Maybe she took pity on me. She sighed after a moment and a warm, loving smile graced her lips. She leaned down and kissed me and my tension started to drain once again. “I did not mean to upset you,” she whispered after breaking the kiss, but she stayed close enough to resume it in an instant, “it is quite a show of affection.”

Maybe it was the lingering nervousness. The rest of the tension. Her enticing scent, her warmth, her proximity. All of it, none of it. I lunged for her. I closed that gap quickly and kissed her fiercely. And for a minute or two, that was all there was. Her lips. Her body beside mine. My hoof stroking through her wavy, ethereal mane. A soft, quiet moan escaped her throat and a part of me wanted to cancel this discussion in favor of other activities. Planning could wait until tomorrow. Or the day after. I wanted more of her, wanted her.

And now, of all times and places, my self-restraint decided to rear its ugly head. I withdrew breathing heavily. So did she. There was unmitigated desire in her eyes. I could feel the same fire burn in my belly. It took some effort to reign it in for now.

“To be fair, this is more than just an exotic shopping trip,” I explained further. “I will probably complain a lot while we’re doing this. About the heat, and the dampness of everything, and the freaking leeches. I fully expect myself to be quite miserable throughout. But telling this story afterwards… I think that will be neat. They all have their stories, you know? Heck, even Derpy has better stories than I do. And that’s okay. I’m not an adventurer. I don’t want to be one, and I never will be one. But I think having this tale to tell will be nice. And… and I think having you there with me would be… it would make things so much easier. Not because of what you can do. Well not only because of that anyway. But just because you are there. With me. Just the two of us. For an entire week. No regalia. No castle walls. No guards. We wouldn't need to hide in your chamber or in your study. I could kiss you whenever and wherever I want. I could be with you for more than just a couple of afternoon hours and a lovely evening. Just you and me. I… I really like the sound of that.”

My sentimental speech did little to diminish that flame in her eyes. But it added a layer of tenderness to them with which she regarded me. And then a mischievous glint rose in those beautiful magenta eyes. “Do I have to worry about my Hearth’s Warming present now?”

I laughed heartily at that. It took a couple of seconds to die down to a chuckle and finally a wide smile. I raised a hoof to get rid of some tears and shook my head. “Nah, I don’t think so. I only have to deal with a god of chaos for yours, should be easy, really.”

With her grin remaining in place, she sighed in relief. “Oh, good. I was worried for a moment.”

We both fell silent once again and quickly got lost in each other’s eyes. After some time, I managed to wiggle myself free from her spell to speak. “So, what do you think?”

She looked around once more. Poured the last of the tea into my half-filled cup. Regarded the map for a moment before turning her attention back to me. “I will have to think about it a little bit more, but I admit that the idea is appealing. And you do seem very committed. I know how you can get when you have decided on something and I would rather be by your side and keep you safe myself than have anything happen to you while under the guidance of somepony else.” She sighed once more and beyond that thin veil, I saw that fire roar. And just like the rabbit freezing before the fox, I stared at her as she lowered her head again, bringing her lips to my ears. “But I also think that this can wait until tomorrow. Would you not agree?”

A little nip at my neck was all it took.

She knew how to push all of my buttons. And most of the time, that really was not all that bad.

When I woke up in her bed the next day, it was late morning already and I felt sore in all the right ways. And I felt happy.

I tilted my head to the left, then to the right, just to make sure. But of course, Celestia was long gone. I continued to lie there for a couple more minutes and reminisced about last night. I even lolled around a little in this massive, massive bed, basking in those remnants of her scent and warmth. But eventually, my thoughts drifted towards the tasks at hoof. The thought that Celestia might have already talked to Luna about our plans over breakfast was exciting. Enough so to finally spur me into action. I climbed out of bed, did my best to fix said bed and went through my usual routine before strapping my saddlebags to my back and exiting her chambers. There was a train I had to catch. And maybe one of Joe’s donuts on the way, as a breakfast of sorts.

“Rarity, I need to borrow your tent.”

For a few precious seconds, the fashionista continued to sew away, before she finally relented and stopped. She put the fabric aside, neatly folded her glasses and put them down on the table and then, and only then, did she turn to me with a slightly soured expression. Her little dip in mood was just a short-lived frustration about my sudden intrusion in her workspace and was quickly replaced by a warmer smile. “Why hello, Dreamwalker. How lovely to see you again. How are you doing? Fine? That is lovely to hear. Me? Oh, I am just doing great myself, thank you for asking. Oh? Oh of course I can spare a few moments to listen to such a good and considerate friend such as yourself! Please, do come in, have a seat.”

Alright. Maybe not all that short-lived after all, I mentally corrected myself. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment while I fidgeted with my hooves a little and cringed every time she intoned another accusation. She finished with an indignant huff and pierced me with a stare, now waiting for my response. And somehow, it suddenly felt like I was dancing across a minefield. “Eh…hehe…heh. I apologize, Rares. I should have just waited downstairs and I shouldn’t have barged in here like that. And I should have greeted you properly.”

She gave a curt nod to each and every acknowledgement of failure, and it did seem to mollify her a little bit. To the point where she held up a hoof and her smile became a little bit warmer, more welcoming. She was nothing if not forgiving. “Apology accepted. I can see that you are quite excited about whatever this is and I am well aware how such excitement might carry one away, as it is. At least you are well-mannered enough to acknowledge your mistakes and hopefully keep them in mind for a while, not like some other multicolored menace I shall not name.”

I grinned a little. “Rainbow giving you a hard time again?”

“And I shall not name,” Rarity repeated with a huff and rolled her eyes. “She flew in through the window yesterday. That is why I keep it closed for now. I had to reorganize my entire fabric shelf after she toppled it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I remarked. And truly, I was. Rarity’s levitation was stronger than mine — but that did not mean that lifting these rolls of fabric was easy. They weighed quite a lot, each one of them. And I knew from Twilight how aggravating some ponies could react when their tried and tested order of things was disturbed by someone less considerate. That was not to say that Rainbow was reckless. Well, that she actually was. But she usually tried to be considerate. Whatever had made her crash the shelf was another matter entirely — from that point forth, there was little she could do. Rainbow and Rarity had vastly different definitions of ‘order’.

The seamstress rubbed the bridge of her muzzle for a moment before putting her glasses back on. “So, you are back home. How was your trip? And what was that about my tent?”

I dared to walk a little closer to her current workstation. It seemed like she was working on some kind of suit, maybe? Everything was still more a bunch of raw materials than anything else. “It went well. I found a bunch of stuff in some dusty old books. Twilight would have loved it. Aaand now I need to borrow your tent for a week, if that’s alright.”

She furrowed her brow and regarded me inquisitively for a moment. “But you hate camping?”

That made me laugh for some reason. “Why does everypony keep bringing that up? Like I don’t know it myself? You hate camping too, you know.”

“I do not,” she answered quickly. A little bit too quickly.

“Yes, you do.”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“Are you the Element of Honesty?”

“That is hardly—… not everypony who is not—… that is not the point!” We tried to stare each other down for a couple of seconds, before we both started to grin. “Fine. So maybe I am not exactly the fiercest of advocates for camping as a pastime. What about it?”

Despite the room being a little bit stuffy, I took a few steps forward to hug her. A brief hug, but a well-meaning one. “Your camping kit kind of reflects that. That tent takes a lot of the ‘camping experience’ out of the, you know, the camping experience. And I think for what I have in mind, I’d like that very much, please. That is, of course, as long as you don’t have any need for it for the next week or so. Might stretch to ten days, I can't say for certain.”

She once again regarded me with that look that ranged between nosy curiosity and critical inquisition. “You may have it. We shall say… you can keep it for two weeks. We non-camping campers have to stick together after all, do we not?”

I grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, ma’am.”

“’Ma’am’? Hm. I might be able to get used to that,” she mused with a grin of her own. “That said, I will have to teach you the command words. That should not take too long I think. And you will have to retrieve it from the attic.”

“No problem,” I happily agreed before I furrowed my brow. “Wait — words? As in ‘more than one’? I thought you used one command word to both set it up and bring it down again?”

Rarity’s smile grew to almost shark-like proportions. “That is one, yes. But that tent cost me a little bit over eight hundred bits, dear, and a lady like myself appreciates luxuries where she can have them. There are twelve command words for twelve different enchantments.”

Hoo boy.

It was around midday the next day then I arrived at Zecora’s hut. Tree. Home.

According to a letter Celestia had sent me through Spike, she had talked to Luna and everything on her side was ready to go. She had even managed to find a solution for our rations issue. She divulged little details about it, which only increased my curiosity, but that simply had to wait until later today, when I would hopefully return to Canterlot with everything else we needed. The two Neverend bottles were the last item on the checklist.

And I felt a little like Twilight, carrying a checklist with me through the thick, damp swamp like it was a treasure to be kept safe and sound. I even played with the idea to frame it after everything was said and done.

I knocked on the shaman’s door. “Please be home,” I muttered before I raised my voice. “Zecora? Are you there?”

A few seconds later I breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened and her striped body appeared in the gap. “Dreamwalker! What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in, before dangers arise.”

Headaches incoming, I tried to mentally prepare myself before I entered and closed the door. I liked Zecora. Really, I did. She was wise and very, very knowledgeable, friendly and kind and always helpful. But goodness gracious me, that constant rhyming could grate on my nerves over time.

She gestured to a sitting pillow nearby a wall before returning to her cauldron. Something stirred within it and needed attention, it seemed. Nothing that appeared to alarm her much, but it required a modicum of attention anyway. “To what do I owe this visit of yours? Do you require tinctures, potions or other cures?”

“Something even more simple, actually,” I replied with a hopeful smile. “See, I’m having my first outdoorsy adventure soon, and I know very little about survival. In the wilds, that is. I was thinking it would probably be a smart idea to have a couple of bottles of Neverend with me? In case getting fresh water turns out to be a bit of a hurdle?”

She chuckled a little and looked in my direction with quite a bit of amusement. “I am surprised to hear you take that leap, and I’ll gladly help so you don’t have to weep. What you seek I can prepare, though to ask a question I first must dare: Twilight knows this all too well. How come you don’t ask your helpful belle?”

I inevitably grimaced a little. I was sooo not willing to regurgitate the entire story again. But maybe I should have seen that particular question coming. “Well… the entire trip is just so that I can get my hooves on some weird materials, which I want to use to make a gift for her. It feels strange to make her work for her own present? Unknowingly or not.”

“I see and understand your plight. So I will help you do this right,” she answered with a smirk. “This brew needs my attention still, so I will guide you to create your fill. Follow my word to a T, and within the hour you shall be free.”

That had me slightly worried. I had not expected to get an impromptu alchemy lesson. Then again, what could go wrong, right? I took in the entire room and looked at it with a different perspective. That of a crafter. It was large. Several holes of varying sizes allowed for vile vapors to escape. A slightly indented floor would mean that liquids collected in the middle, where the central fireplace was currently lit. She had few in regards to furniture. Nothing much that could catch fire or stand in the way of a quick escape. No real room divider. She would, at all stages, be perfectly able to see what I was doing, what ingredients I grabbed, how much I poured into whatever else. The room was perfect to allow for the closest guidance one could hope for.

I sighed deeply, fixed my face in an expression of determination and nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it. Where do I start?”

Zecora seemed quite pleased with my decision. “For a bottle that contains as much as a lake, a special bottle we first have to make.” And at that, my shoulders slumped a little. Had she not said that I would be free within less than an hour? Making bottles… I had no idea how long that actually took. I had never bothered with this specific field of crafting. Glass production. You had to blow that stuff into shape, right? But before I could further think about it, she spoke up once more. “Lucky for you, and lucky for me, such bottles are useful, so I already have three. The water, however, you still have to get. So grab a bucket and do not forget: The stream outside is safe and clear, but do be cautious when silence draws near.”

She pointed a hoof at one of the shelves where I found three small glass bottles with surprisingly sturdy, thick glass walls and a little cork stopper. They were empty. Finding a bucket or three was no issue either and I quickly put one and one together. I had never really questioned how exactly a Neverend bottle actually worked. I had just assumed the water was produced magically. But now I slowly started to realize: That was not how it worked. Not at all. The bottles did not produce anything. They just stored stuff. More than should be able to fit in, but in the end, it was still just a bottle.

Which not only meant that I had to get all the water from the nearby stream. It also meant that I found a new appreciation for the hard work of all those that produced and sold these things. I knew for a fact that Neverend bottles filled with juice or liquor and the like existed. What madpony poured an entire distillery’s worth of alcohol into one bottle?

And that basically explained how the entire hour was supposed to vanish. I carried water from the stream inside to fill the bottles. Relatively early on, I asked Zecora if I could not just take the bottle to the stream instead, but that idea was quickly shot down. It would not work, she said. There had to be a conscious effort to get some liquid inside the bottle. Water pouring against its opening was not conscious, because the stream was not. And at that point, doing the filling inside the hut was simply safer.

I lost track of how many buckets I had poured into which bottle at some point. Surely not a lake’s worth. But hopefully enough. It had been a bit of a mess, figuring out how to get the water from the bucket into the little glass bottle. In the end I improvised a little funnel, much to Zecora's hearty amusement. Only after my solution appeared to work decently enough did she tell me that I should simply have asked — she had a perfectly fine funnel for just such tasks.

Oh well.

I bit down on what looked like dried strips of meat with no small amount of hesitation. Much to my surprise, it mostly tasted like peas and beans with faint traces of carrots and… apples? “Okay, this stuff is… weird. What is this?”

Celestia giggled in exhilaration. She leaned down to nuzzle me and draped her wing over my back. With the balcony door open and the evening wind carrying colder air inside, I really did not mind and happily snuggled against her. “I talked to Luna at breakfast yesterday. And just as you expected, she was quite thrilled about this idea. She even made several suggestions of her own, most of which I will not repeat, now or ever.”

I chuckled for a bit. Of course she would try to embarrass her sister with some lewd commentary. And from the looks of it, it worked. Celestia was faintly blushing beside me even now, so it still worked, even a day later. That almost made me wish I had been there, eavesdropping.

“So this was her idea?” I asked while I still eyed the strip warily.

“Something like that. A long time ago, before Equestria’s foundation, the Griffon Empire saw our arrival as a threat to their sovereignty. They tried to push us back. In those days, the tribes were not exactly on good terms with each other and had yet to discover that each of them was assailed by these hostile forces. What is Equestria today is a good distance away from the Griffon Empire’s borders though. They had issues keeping up their supply lines. One griffon invented something they called ‘Allfood’. It was a nice, flowery way of describing how it was produced. Something I would rather not describe here, since I do not know if your stomach is quite ready for such. Luna led a lot of our troops in defense against those assailants, pushing them back to their own territory. And we encountered similar issues. We had captures, however. We could take a look at their gear and their supplies and Luna fashioned our own version of ‘Allfood’. It is a blend of vegetables, held together by starch. It is not exactly a three-course meal. But it is filling and will keep from spoiling for quite some time, even in harsh environments. It should provide a decent emergency solution to fall back on if we do not find ourselves a decent food source otherwise.”

I squinted a little at the stripe. With the new knowledge in mind, I could almost make out squished kidney beans. Almost. “Huh. I mean… I knew she was clever, but this… this is extra.”

Celestia smiled, almost nostalgic, as her eyes glazed over with memories. “She has always been very creative indeed.” I leaned a little bit heavier against her, just to pull her back before she lost herself in there. And I was rewarded with a grateful smile. Her eyes wandered over to the door, beside which the impressive huddle that was Rarity’s tent was resting. And a couple of saddlebags containing a map, the transcription, the two bottles, a first aid box and a few pieces of other random gear. “So we… we are ready then? Do we have everything?”

And just like that, I wanted to coo and stroke her wings. She suddenly sounded so uncertain. Nervous. And despite her age and experience, parts of this shone through her self-control. It was noticeable in her voice, that tiny tremor in there. In her wings, as they occasionally rustled a little. She was Sol Invictus. The Unyielding Flame. Wasn’t I the one who was supposed to be nervous?

With a flicker of magic, I guided her cheek down, and pressed my lips to hers. It was a comparatively innocent kiss, but one that seemed to help her nonetheless. “We have prepared what we can prepare, love. Luna will do a great job. Hey, maybe she’ll even coral these idiots you sometimes complain about, who knows? This will be our little adventure and a good bit of fun and a vacation for just the two of us, alright?” I could see her, feel her sinking into my eyes as she drew calm from my sudden bout of optimism. She steadied herself with a deep breath and smiled for me. And I loved her for it, all the more.

I turned my head with a smirk and kissed her shoulder. And a little bit down, under her wing. Before slowly drawing my tongue along her wing joint. I was rewarded with a shuddering breath and saw her eyelids flutter shut. It was all the encouragement I needed. “How about I’ll take care of your nerves and help you relax, love? It’s the least I can do, seeing how much complaining from me you will have to endure in the coming days.”

“I would not mind that terribly,” she breathed in reply.

And with a grin so wide my cheeks started to ache, I got to work.

Allegiance

A sizzle followed by a brief but blinding light announced our arrival over our destination the following morning.

“I honestly didn’t even know you had saddlebags,” I quipped as I was still caught up in our little bout of small talk.

“I had them made in preparation,” she replied, but her voice had changed significantly. It was restrained, cautious. Wary. It finally made me look around — and down. While getting the whole picture was a little bit difficult with me clinging to her back and her wings continuously flapping so she could hover, I saw enough of what troubled her thoughts.

The jungle had been on fire.

There was a blackened mass of once living green down there. Mixed in lanes and patches of ashen gray. The edges of this devastation still seemed to smolder here and there. It was hard to combine what I saw with what I knew. Jungles were some of the densest forests in existence. The most humid as well. Starting a fire in a jungle should have been all but impossible and yet the hill I had marked on my map laid bare, cleared of almost all vegetation, and minor patches in all directions had been cleared by the greedy flame as well.

But the hill was the centerpiece. And that was honestly too much of a coincidence. I considered for a moment if Celestia herself had maybe taken a sneaky peak and prepared the site of our arrival. A focused beam of sunlight would most certainly burn through whatever was in its way. I had seen that. It took a couple of seconds for it to melt stone. What hope of resistance would a jungle have?

But she did look genuinely surprised. Well, as far as she let me see it anyway. And that was the issue, in a way. Despite years of experience with her — if she wanted to keep secrets from me, she would. Simple as that. Whatever I noticed, whatever I thought I had gleaned without her being aware of it, it was all calculated to some degree in the end. Her default state was her ‘Princess persona’, and that princess was nothing but calm and serene and almost frighteningly emotionless in the face of unforeseen developments.

“We should land,” I noted after failing to spot any reason not to.

She agreed by slowly gliding downwards in a large spiral, but she still kept her eyes peeled for anything and everything. But no monsters emerged from the tree lines. No volcano erupted, buried under the ashen remains of the jungle. And no dragons roared overhead.

Dragons. Hm. Their fire might actually be strong and hot enough to cause such devastation.

Her hooves touched the ground with the crunchy sound of crisp twigs breaking. I levitated myself off of her back, stretched my legs for a moment and walked around myself to take a closer look at everything. No threat emerged and while the smoldering parts at the edges continued to fizzle out and dim down, I did note that the ground was still a little warm in places. The fire must have happened recently.

With no source apparent, however, I saw no reason to further riddle around with this. The jungle was gone, for whatever reason, and that was actually a good thing for us. It would make setting up Rarity’s tent so much easier. “Do you think we can already set up camp? It’s still warm in places,” I remarked and dug my hoof into the ground in a circling motion.

Celestia furrowed her brow in though and looked to the sky for a moment before a small smile graced her lips. “I have not done this in ages,” she quietly murmured to herself before lifting herself off once more with a mighty flap of her wings.

I quickly put one and one together and just walked a little to the side to sit down on my haunches and watch her. Seeing Luna fly was a show. She was talking to the wind, playing with it, racing with it. Similar to Rainbow. It was so full of apparent energy and synergy. Vibrant life. Celestia’s flight, on the other hoof, was more inclined towards her reserved, calm presence. Her wingbeats were strong, but less hectic. Controlled. She was not playing with the wind as much as she was using a tool — albeit one she enjoyed using. Her flight exuded power and grace. And I cherished that excited smile on her lips.

She landed on one of the lazily drifting clouds and with a few wingbeats maneuvered it over the hill. A spark of magic puffed it up to thrice its size and changed its coloration from immaculate white to a dark and heavy gray, before she stepped down on it with force. With one hoof at first, just to see if it worked as intended. And indeed, the cloud let go of a little shower, a couple of seconds of rain coming down onto the hill like a blanket.

She looked down towards me and I could not help but laugh. She had not looked like an excited little filly for quite some time and it was so very endearing to see it again. In an admittedly very questionable impression of Applejack, I yelled up to her: “Atta girl!”

As if she needed my permission.

And a moment later, she jumped up and down. For just a second or two, it reminded me of Derpy. Her enthusiasm, her less than ideal coordination. But then it changed, and what had started as simple hopping around became something similar to a dance.

The cloud meanwhile just drowned the hill, gradually shifting back from dark gray to white.

The entire spectacle took less than five minutes and once done, Celestia gave the cloud a little shove and let it lazily drift away again before she swooped down and landed once more. I repeatedly stomped my hooves into the now slightly muddy ground in applause and she played along with a wide grin and bowed a couple of times to her enthusiastic audience. “You might want to close your eyes for the next part,” she warned me. I did as I was told and even with my eyelids closed, I could feel the burning sensation, the brightness intensifying to such a degree that it felt like tiny needles in my eyes. Luckily that only took a couple of seconds too before the light dimmed down again.

And the hill was steaming a little. What had remained of the rainwater and was not immediately soaked up by the ground or had simply run downhill drifted away in small clouds of mist. With the wildfire and the rain and now her attempts at drying the ground off, the entire hill was a mess. It made me chuckle as I sidled up next to her. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Instead of disagreeing with me, she just leaned down and nuzzled me. And I enjoyed that tender moment.

It was time to set up camp. I searched the peak of the hill for a decent place, put down the tent and spoke the command word. We both stepped back and watched the madness literally unfurl itself. A two story ‘camping’ tent, with a potted plant on the upper story balcony. “I thought her camping kit was a little excessive,” I admitted and looked at the monstrosity before us, “but I’m honestly not sure anymore. ‘A little’ just doesn’t seem to cut it.”

Celestia giggled and nodded. “Indeed. Although I do believe that she would huff and insist that a lady has her needs and that there is nothing requiring her to deny herself some small luxuries.”

“Hm. Yeah, that does sound like her,” I replied with a grin. I gave Celestia a little shove to her delightful rump with my magic and greatly enjoyed the surprised gasp I heard while I walked towards the entrance myself. The inside was even more ridiculous, as it quickly turned out. I had expected… well. I was not entirely sure what exactly I had expected. Some kind of stairway to get to the upper floor, sure. Maybe a bedroll or two. A vanity table, obviously, because Rarity. And those expectations were met, to a certain degree. But instead of a bedroll, I saw myself confronted with a king-sized four-poster bed. And some very plush carpets. And a tall standing mirror. This was no mere tent — this was a palace, made out of fabric and magic.

I did not exactly know how to handle this, so I just laughed. “This is just… this is absurd.”

“It is quite cozy,” Celestia added after she had set her saddlebags down near the entrance.

“Cozy… riiight, that’s the perfect description for this.” I chuckled briefly and added my own saddlebags to our pile before I walked over to her. Only when she leaned down and I kissed her did I finally notice something else about the tent.

That kiss sent a shiver down my spine. Just out of pure enjoyment. But it made me realize that, for just a second or two, I felt… cold? As we broke the kiss, I furrowed my brow and stepped over to the entrance. I pushed my outstretched hoof outside. And indeed, the difference in temperature was significant. “Oh wow. We need to be careful not to catch a cold. Or get circulatory issues.” I looked over to her and I mentally corrected myself – I needed to watch out for that. She would be fine either way. Alicorns were quite tough, after all. “The really, really, really good thing about this is: Now I can have all the snuggle time I could ever ask for!“ I grinned excitedly.

Much to my surprise, Celestia lit her horn and extracted something from her saddlebags. A wine bottle. And of course, while I had confirmed my suspicions about the temperature difference, she had rummaged around in Rarity’s cabinets and drawers and found herself two wine glasses. “Canterlot Merlot, six years. A good year. It should be sweet and fruity,” she announced with a playful twinkle in her eyes and set both glasses and the bottle down on the small bedside table.

I smiled like the lovestruck idiot that I was and nodded. I knew full well that she preferred off-dry wine and was going along with this for my sake. It was a little sacrifice, sure, but a sacrifice nonetheless.

Seeing as the sun still spoke about it being the morning hours, it was way too early to open a wine bottle. But I had caught her intention and very much approved of it. I walked over to her and nuzzled her side, kissed a small trail over her wing and grinned up at her. “I can’t wait for it.” She seemed quite satisfied with that, but I was not done just yet. After all, she had been sneaking a wine bottle into our supplies. And who knew what else. I let my muzzle trail along her frame and quickly nipped at her cutie mark, eliciting another surprised gasp. “Cheeky mare,” I ‘chided’ her with a grin.

She giggled and with the best husky voice she could muster, replied “If that is my ‘punishment’, I should have brought the entire wine cellar…”

I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind fooling around with you while you’re drunk. That had been a blast the last time.”

She grimaced slightly, but the underlying smile did not waver and only grew into a bolder grin. “As far as I remember, you had been rather tipsy yourself.”

“Aye,” I agreed with a smirk. “But there’s a huge difference between both.” Without missing a beat, I craned my neck and kissed hers as high up as I could manage while she playfully raised her head even higher, just to escape my attempts at stealing yet another kiss from her. “I think this will be a lot of fun for both of us,” I concluded. “But! It’s still early, and we do have a little something planned. So maybe we can check the first site off the list before retreating for the evening?”

“Gladly. I was just proposing—” she answered, before I ruthlessly cut in.

“Oh I was dying for you to do that! The answer is ‘yes’, obviously, so much yes!”

We both shared a giggle about our silliness while putting our saddlebags back on. Each of us unloaded what we deemed not immediately necessary and left. With the fire having done such a fine job of clearing the hill, and the tent's enchantments keeping insects at bay, I was not in the slightest worried about returning to find some nasty surprises waiting inside for us. But, just to be sure, I closed the zipper on the front anyway.

The way through the jungle was tedious. Progress was slow due to the excessive foliage, and I constantly argued with insects to leave me alone. Sadly, none of them would listen. The jungle itself was very much alive, never granting us a single moment, no matter how brief, of actual silence. Little critters ran around in the underbrush, leaves rustled and twigs snapped, birds of all kinds chirped and sang all around us. It was so very different from other places I knew. The mere thought of comparing this to Whitetail Woods or the Everfree seemed ridiculous. The Everfree Forest might have been able to match its density in places. But what lived in those woods usually tried to remain silent. These oh so colorful birds in here chirped like there was no tomorrow. It was impressive.

The heat was awful of course. As was the extreme humidity. It felt like the heat made all the moisture dissipate into mist, but the canopy of the trees kept it trapped inside. I made a joke about stewing once or twice, early on when I still had a sense of humor about this misery. But as we moved further into the jungle itself, I chose to keep my mouth shut. Kept the suicidal insects from flying right in.

It was the good, the bad and the ugly, so to speak. The beauty of this place, its sheer magnificence, was astounding. I could not keep my eyes focused on one single spot for too long before taking in another sight. At the same time, I had to constantly remind myself that the Neverend bottles were not, in fact, infinite and that I could not constantly douse myself in water, no matter how much I would have liked that. And due to this necessity, I was kind of a mess. A damp, sticky, sweaty mess. I knew that Rarity had one of these funny foldable bathtubs in her tent. I had not seen it on the ground floor and thus presumed it was the central feature of the so far unexplored upper floor. I really hoped she had not taken that thing out, because I craved a bath.

Celestia seemed mostly unaffected of course. As the living embodiment of the sun I had no idea what kind of temperatures would be required to make her pant and sweat half as much as I did. And I envied that. A lot. Her coat caught the moisture in the air as well as mine did, but the heat itself seemed to do absolutely nothing to her. And of course, while I eventually started to ask for little breaks here and there to have a drink or just breathe for a second or two, she showed no traces of fatigue. I silently wondered if, at some point in the coming days, I would begrudge her this.

If so, I was not looking forward to it. It would be petty. But I could not put it past me either. For now, however, I was just glad to see her enjoy the sights and sounds just as much as I did. We had shared the occasional sentiment about how pretty and lively everything in here was, and I even tried to refrain from letting too much sarcasm drip from my tongue, seeing as there was a constant swarm of buzzing around me while barely any insect ever dared to bother her.

After hours of traveling that felt like little progress had been made, we eventually arrived. I still felt like I only had to turn around and would be able to see the tip of Rarity’s tent over yonder, but a quick glance of course showed nothing but a green wall.

In front of us was a temple. Well, it was not necessarily a temple, but the structure had very temple-y vibes going on. A hemispherical mound presented the entrance, fashioned from ancient looking and moss- and lichen-covered stone. A longer tunnel connected the hemisphere to a stepped pyramid. We saw a couple of pedestals with broken off pieces of stone. Whatever statues had been resting on top of those had been long gone as there was not even a trace of the pieces left nearby. Then again, maybe someone had actually taken the entire statue. For whatever reason.

There were no depictions of anything else outside. No writing of hieroglyphs or whatever. No indication what to expect inside. Or any clues as to who might have built this. “Welp. This is as good as any time to head inside, right? Or do you see any point in refraining from that?”

We had walked around the entire complex once, just to take a closer look at the outside structure, and I trusted Celestia's critical eye. She had been The Princess for a thousand years, true — and yet, I still believed that she was more familiar with settings such as this one as I was, or ever would be. She smiled and gave a nod. “I agree. It seems there is little for us to find outside.”

As soon as we took a single step beyond the threshold, something changed. While there was no colored aura of magic visible, I could feel something wrap around my horn. A tingling sensation ran through my skull. I grimaced and rubbed at my horn’s base with a hoof. “Alright… what was that?”

“A dampening field,” Celestia replied with a sigh. I could see her hoof twitch. She was inclined to feel her horn as well. After the tingling receded, it felt strangely numb. Almost as if I had no horn anymore. It was obviously still there. “Apparently, the structure is in good enough shape that its enchantments are still working. I do not think that this field will be enough to fully keep me from using my magic, but it will make it considerably harder.”

I grimaced a little at her explanation and nodded. “Understood.” If she would have trouble casting any spells, that basically meant that I would not even need to bother trying. I sighed. I tried to tell myself that, in a way, this was a good thing. After all, the transcription had been clear on the issue. He who succeeded at the trials would get the precious metals. Not much of a prize to be gained in crumbled ruins and destroyed trials. But at the same time, losing one’s magic never felt good, as all the many, many victims of Tirek’s assault could attest to. “I’m going to try something quickly,” I announced and walked a few steps back. Just outside the entrance, the feeling lifted. I could feel my horn again, feel my magic surge again. I lifted a small pebble nearby, just for testing purposes, before stepping back in and enduring the return of the numbness. “Well. At least it’s localized.”

Celestia had carefully watched my little experiment and acknowledged its result with a nod. Still — I did not like how serious she looked. I was no Pinkie Pie. Pinks would have known what to do. I usually just fumbled around helplessly until someone took pity. And maybe laughed to make it stop. Which was still good enough on occasion. And desperate times called for desperate measures, right? “So, a cake walks into a bar and orders a drink,” I started with the best nonchalance I could muster. “After a while he notices everyone is staring at him ever since he walked in. He asks the barman: What is everyone's problem? And the barman answers: If I were you, I'd get the hell outta here... looks to me like everyone wants a piece of you!” At that point, my love’s eyebrow was slowly rising to indicate her slight bewilderment. Yet I could also see that faint hint of a smile tug at her lips. So, I kept pushing forward. “The cake replies: That's nothing, mate! I have taken on hundreds and thousands before, these guys would be a piece of cake. Their half-baked attempts wouldn't get a rise out of me!” My love cringed a little. And I grinned. “I'm no cupcake, and they'll be in tiers after I batter those fruitcakes.”

She smiled, and shook her head. “This is awful.”

And with a vigorous nod, I continued. “I think it's a trifle rude that you're making cake puns while I'm still here. Call the cops if you like, it'll be the icing on the cake, I've been in custardy before, that's just the way the cookie crumbles.”

Her smile widened to a grin and I could see her trying to remain calm and composed. I was making a fool out of myself and I did not mind all that much. “Please just stop,” she asked.

Yet I did not listen. “Just let me finish my drink, I'll be scone before you know it.”

She only managed to stifle that snort partially and shook her head. “It is not even funny,” she insisted.

“And the barman says: I'm sorry. Thanks for pudding up with me.”

I was delighted at that faint giggle of hers. She took a couple of seconds to recompose herself before lowering her head and giving me a kiss for my troubles. “This was terrible. Absolutely terrible.”

I chuckled a little and nuzzled her cheek. I enjoyed her proximity and warmth for a moment before I let her go again. “I know. I’m not really a funny guy. Are you feeling better?” There was still a spark of mirth dancing in her eyes and the ghost of a smile on her lips. It was enough of an answer, even without her nod.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I try. “Alright. Temple time,” I concluded, and after a brief moment of reorientation, we stepped up to what seemed like the first part of a challenge of sorts. The hemisphere had a diameter of maybe fifty feet on the inside. There was a chasm in the middle, from left to right. We stepped up to it and looked down to see into a twenty foot drop. Luckily, there were no spikes at the bottom. No snake pit, no lava, no visible dangers whatsoever, aside from the drop itself. Falling would not exactly be a painless ordeal and serious wounds were obviously possible, but it could have been a lot worse. Encountering this was a good first indication of what we had to expect, I assumed.

The chasm itself was thirty feet wide. And there were four metal poles spanning across it. They seemed to be paired off, with a larger gap between the pairs. On our side, near the entrance, was a small stone bowl, resting on a pedestal. We had ignored it so far, as it seemed less interesting than the gaping hole in the ground. But now, on closer inspection, we found something inside. An egg. A golden egg, to be precise. It looked like it had the texture of actual eggshells, but it had the metallic sheen of actual gold. I tried to grab it with my telekinesis to lift it up for further inspection, but once that failed to do anything, I remembered the dampening field.

“Do you know what kind of creature lays such eggs?” I asked more out of curiosity than anything else.

She looked at it as well, before shaking her head. “I cannot say that I have ever seen one such as this before. To be honest, I am not entirely sure if this is even an actual egg. It might have been manufactured.”

There was a similar stone pedestal with a similar stone bowl on the other side of the chasm. While I still tried to puzzle around, I noticed that she was waiting. Always patiently waiting. “You have figured it out, haven’t you?” I asked with a chuckle.

“I think I have, yes,” she replied with a smirk.

“And you’re not going to tell me?” I asked.

“I could. Do you want me to?” she asked in reply and something about her teasing tone made me want to tackle and tickle her.

Instead of honoring that with an answer, I raised my muzzle sky-high and tried to simultaneously stare into the bowl and at the egg. Which was probably a weird spectacle to behold and explained that half-stifled snort of hers. “Don’t you dare laugh at me!” I chided her as best as I could while I grinned. “This is serious business! Serious adventure-business!”

“Obviously,” she agreed.

“Obviously!” I insisted.

“…”

We both giggled a moment later before I finally had an idea. Each pair of metal poles was set into the ground. Far enough apart for both front- and back hooves. It was meant to be crossed sideways. Which explained the larger gap between the pairs — with no magic allowed, the egg had to be carried over to the other side somehow. I was not entirely sure if Celestia could not just swoop it up in her wing and easily fly over there, but maybe the trial would somehow notice that. No, I was relatively sure at this point how this was meant to be done. Which made me grin and shake my head. This was a foal’s game. Literally. Something they did at the Sisterhooves Social. “Muzzle to muzzle, egg in between,” I stated and my love agreed. I sighed. “Well, this is going to be awkward. You do know that I have terrible hoof-eye-coordination, right? There’s a reason I lose every single dart game against Rainbow when she forces me to use my mouth or hooves.”

“I think I might be able to coordinate us,” she replied calmly. “We will test it out here on solid ground, and only once we are ready do we step up onto those poles.”

Sounded reasonable enough. She nosed the egg out of the bowl a moment later. Which already took her two attempts. She maneuvered it onto the edge and I craned my head to put my nose against the other side. “A little bit more pressure,” she instructed, and I pushed harder. Just a smidge. “That is good. Good. Now. We must find a rhythm and synchronize our steps.”

I was just about to nod in confirmation when she raised an eyebrow at me and I quickly realized the mistake in that impulse and refrained from following through. No nodding. Got it.

A few minutes were spent and we quickly learned that our first attempts were doomed to fail. To exact as much caution as possible, we wanted to take it slowly. No reason to rush was apparent. So she instructed me to take a step sideways. Problem was: She said ‘left hoof’. But seeing as we were opposite one another, her left was my right. I knew that, of course. And I tried to keep it in mind. But after a couple of steps, I messed up. It would have been less of a problem were the distance we had to cross shorter. But it was not.

We finally managed to find a solution. Instead of naming any side at all, she just said ‘step’. It still meant coordinating taking a step with my right front and back hoof, and on the next command doing the same with the left side. Which was still confusing to a certain degree. Ponies were meant to walk forward, not sideways. But then again, that was probably the point of this exercise. To coordinate. Yourself as much as with your partner.

“Ready?” she asked. The egg sat snug between our muzzles, we stood on the edge of the chasm and right next to the poles.

There was an uncomfortable flutter in my stomach, followed by a little twist as I dared to look down again — as much as keeping the egg aloft let me. This challenge really did look easy on a superficial level… “As ready as I’m going to get,” I answered with a shaky smile.

She smiled in return. And it was steady. Strong. Reliable. “Focus on me, love. Focus on my eyes, my voice.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and opened them again. There was no chasm. No stupid egg. No slippery metal poles do dance across. There were just these magnificent magenta pools of her beautiful eyes. Just my love, and her soothing voice. I tried to lose myself in her gaze, tried to let her calm wash over me. And to a certain degree, it worked.

“Ready,” I said once more. And this time, I did feel a lot more ‘ready’ than before.

She smiled. Such beautiful lips, curved upwards in a gesture I had come to appreciate a lot. “Step,” she said. Not as a command. Not as a suggestion. There was no urgency in her voice. I could feel the texture change. From rough stone, partially overgrown with mycelium and lichen, to metal, cold and smooth.

“Step,” she continued and I focused on her and her alone. “Step.” I loved those eyes. “Step.” I could drown in them and die happy. “Step.” I loved waking up next to her, even when it was so early in the morning that I had barely slept for four hours yet. She would get up and raise the sun, as was her duty. One of many. And she would glance over her shoulder when exiting the bed. So much love in her eyes. “Step.” She would look at me when she returned from her balcony, her first duty of the day done. “Step.” And even then, she would spare a glance in the direction of her bed. She sometimes caved to her own desires. “Step.” I loved those moments. When she came back to me. Laid down next to me, even if it only was for a couple more minutes. “Step.” Snuggling up to her. Enjoying the return of her warmth. “Step.” We usually did not talk all that much in these morning hours. We did not need to. But we loved to gaze at one another. “Step.” Not dissimilar to what we did now. I would let my hoof trail along her neck lazily. I would lean in on the odd occasion and kiss her nose, just to see her wrinkle her muzzle and smile. “Step.” I would do anything to see her smile. “Step.”

A few more steps and I noticed her smile growing brighter. “We can lower the egg now.”

I blinked and finally escaped my daydreaming. She had managed to get us across. I had not stumbled. I had not messed up and fallen into the pit in an attempt to catch the falling egg. Half a dozen horror scenarios had been pestering me just because I was aware of the situation. Because worrying was something I was really damn bucking good at. And yet somehow, she had managed to get us across.

We put the egg into the stone bowl. It vanished as soon as we let go of it. Probably to reappear in the other bowl at the entrance. But on our side, two heavy stone slabs parted and gave free the way to progress further into the temple.

“You did well,” she said with a proud smile.

And I just lunged at her and hugged her. “And you were awesome.”

She giggled quietly, reciprocating the embrace with equal enthusiasm. “Yes, we were.”

After pulling apart once more, we decided to move on and entered the long hallway. It was a weird one, to say the least. No efforts had been made to conceal the pressure plates. In fact, they were out in the open, almost offensively presenting themselves. Probably because they covered the entire length of the hallway.

“There are little carvings on those pressure plates,” Celestia observed while I noticed the oddly shaped walls and ceiling. Both were curved. Building a flat, vertical wall was usually a lot easier. We had seen the corridor to be round from the outside, sure. But I had suspected that to be a stylistic choice. It just looked better. And maybe it was better to weather rain and wind as well. But to find the same curved architecture inside made me think that maybe, just maybe, this was more than just a design choice meant to look pretty.

There were scones along the walls. They did not look sturdy enough to hold onto and the interval they were placed in was too far apart to use them as climbing aids. But the torches they held magically sprang to life as we entered.

Before further dealing with the strange architecture, I took a glance at the depictions she had mentioned. There was a clear and obvious pattern to them. Ten ‘lanes’ of pressure plates run along the entire length. On the left side, three of these lanes bore carvings of carnivores. A cragadile, a fox, a hydra. In the first row, anyway. The four middle lanes were empty all the way through, as far as I could see. Which already made me suspect that they meant a bad time. And on the right side, herbivores. A rabbit, a cricket and a chicken in the first row.

“Thoughts?” I asked, before answering myself immediately. “I think we’re meant to progress left and right. Those empty middle tiles look suspicious as heck. I don’t see any slits or holes for arrows to be fired from, or gas to seep in. No such openings in the ceiling either. Though I’m not entirely sure why the tunnel is built in this strange way. From the dimensions alone, I would say that this actually is the outer wall. I don’t think there’s much space for any mechanical components. So whatever this trap is, it’s likely underground, under the floor. I think… we don’t want to mess with the predators over there. Let’s stick to the right side.”

While she appeared deep in thought, I knew that she had listened to every word. When she looked up and took in once more the situation as it presented itself, she agreed with a nod. She did look like she had something she wanted to add, but ultimately refrained from doing so. Maybe because she did not want to worry me further? Or it was not all that important right now.

Either way, I took one last look around before I walked over to the right side. Rabbit, cricket, chicken. Wait – crickets eat other insects, don’t they? I suddenly became rather unsure of my initial assessment. But the logic behind my choice still held true. It just meant that cricket was not a viable option. Right? So either rabbit or chicken. Well — given what little we had to puzzle together how this was meant to be understood, I once more wanted to take the safest route. A rabbit could very easily mean that whatever happened would have a very tight timeframe attached. And a chicken could mean falling. Then again, Celestia’s wings had not been affected in any way, so falling was something we could deal with.

“Chicken it is,” I mumbled and raised a hoof. Just before I set it down on the pressure plate, I hesitated one last time and checked my surroundings. Nothing had changed. I looked to my love and she gave me an encouraging nod. She was ready and prepared for whatever might come. So I put my hoof down.

The pressure plate sunk in and just because of that, my stomach twisted into a knot. Even though this was absolutely expected and just what this thing was meant to do.

But the knot got a little worse when I heard that clicking. There was most certainly some kind of mechanism underneath. And every three or four seconds, it clicked. I raised my hoof again, but the pressure plate stayed down, and the clicking continued.

And then the heavy stone slab doors suddenly crashed shut behind us with a loud bang.

“Uh oh.”

Another couple of seconds passed, both of us stood ready to defend ourselves, when another click put the next pieces in motion. Quite literally. The entire wall behind us gave a dull cracking sound before slowly sliding forward, inch by inch. And the floor shifted as well, tilting slightly to the right side. And with every new click it tilted a little bit more. “Wait, wait, wait, what? What’s happening?!” I tried not to yell, but there was a rising panic trying to take over my throat. I looked around the hallway, but saw nothing. Only the floor, on the entire length, slowly tilting to the side. And I could already see below. There was another chasm. Of course there was. And it was deep enough that I could not see the bottom in the flickering torchlight.

“What picture did you press?” Celestia asked while she rushed to the left side.

“Uh… chicken?” I asked more than I stated.

“Make sure!” she commanded and her tone finally made me move.

The wall behind us slowly closed in on us and I looked at the tilting floor. “It’s a chicken!” I confirmed.

She put her hoof down on a pressure plate on the left side. With the next click, the floor turned back and evened out again. She turned to me with a smile while she still stood on the left side. “Fox.”

“Oh,” was the smartest thought I had at that moment and I nodded as I warily eyed the moving wall behind us and then the long hallway before us. If we wanted to stay ahead of this thing, we needed to move quickly. “Sheep, turtle and… ah… I… I don’t know what that is… four legs, really long neck, two strange hornlike protrusions on its head, spotted coat,” I tried to describe my next choices.

“It’s a giraffe,” she replied.

“A what?”

She looked over her shoulder and shook her head. We most certainly did not have enough time for zoological lessons right now. “We need to move, now. Don’t hesitate, make choices, I will follow!”

I tried to swallow the thick lump in my throat and nodded. “Sheep,” I said and stepped forward. I tried to stick to animals I could recognize in hopes that this would make it easier for her.

“Wolf,” she replied and did the same. The floor stayed perfectly balanced.

“Mouse,” followed by “Owl.” Fly, spider. Fish, seagull. Ant, anteater. Whatever that was.

We managed to find a rhythm again. I had a couple of close calls three times where I only knew and recognized one of the three choices, but we managed. Even when the floor tilted because of a less than ideal choice, we managed to rebalance it soon thereafter. And we stayed ahead of the wall, even if our speed was barely above that.

We reached the other side. No more pressure plates. We quickly passed through the doorway and just as I had anticipated, two heavy stone slaps swung shut behind us, closing the hallway off. We could still hear the wall progressing further and we waited with bated breaths until we heard it reach its destination. And then the frequency of the clicking sound rose as the wall was pulled back into its original position.

“Alright,” I breathed in relief as the sounds from beyond finally fell silent, “they took another foal’s game, added a timer and a pit. Very, uh… original. Love the pit-theme. Very consistent.”

I turned halfway and leaned my head against her chest. I knew that I was a bit sweaty, mostly from nerves I assumed, as the heat just did not seem to penetrate these heavy stone walls. But I could not be bothered right now. We would hopefully return to camp soon and we would have a lovely bath. And maybe some wine with the bath, that could be fun.

I heard my love sigh deeply and the way she did it already told me that I would not like what came next. “Well,” she started with a sense of gallows humor, “I am so glad you like the pit theme.”

I dared to raise my head again, turned halfway once more and looked at the room. And it was indeed another pit. “I mean… I do appreciate the consistency. Really, I do. You know what you get, right? But come on. A little bit of originality wouldn’t have hurt either, sheesh.”

We sat on a small protrusion, maybe seven foot in diameter. Another chasm and on the other side, another pedestal with a stone bowl. This one was so flat, however, that we could see a key lying there. Probably the price of this temple. Hopefully.

This gaping maw before us was different from the hemispherical first chamber. It was about sixty-five feet wide. And the torches that once again sprang to life on their own accord could not reach the bottom, just like in the hallway before. I even dared to take one of those torches out and throw it into the abyss, only to see the light eventually vanish. “Ooohhhkay… that’s either one heck of a deep hole or a really, really good illusion. And quite honestly, I’m so hoping for the latter.”

It was once again quite obvious what was meant to be done about this. From the potentially bottomless pit sprang pillars up high. Their height varied, and their diameter was just shy of two feet. Enough to stand on, but quite a small target to jump to.

One of us had to jump across. We tried to mark out the best route and we quickly found one we both felt somewhat confident in. Problem was: Who would make those jumps? Celestia tried to secure our rope on the scone I had emptied of its torch, but that would obviously not hold one second in case my entire weight pulled on it. I flat out refused to tie the rope to her. And we had no other options of securing it.

Which meant that she offered to do it. Problem was, we did not know what exactly would happen if she tried to cheat the system. Her wings getting magically removed or shut down right in the middle of the chasm? That would be bad. Very bad. And those pillars stood too close to each other to allow her flight between those. Her wingspan was too large for that. And jumping was an issue as well. Her considerably larger frame meant that what was a small jumping target for me was miniscule for her.

And there was another factor in play that I assumed we were both aware of, but neither was keen to address. So far, both challenges had made it pretty obvious that this trial was meant to be done as a pair. Get the egg across. Walk across the floor, left and right side. This? This looked like a single-pony-challenge. And that was suspicious. It broke the pattern. Two ponies were required to get in here. What was the other meant to do? Watch the one jumping fall? Try once one failed? We searched, but the walls were nondescript. No illustrations. No hidden levers on those scones we could reach. Nothing that helped us out.

And maybe we had gotten a little… lively in our discussion of our options.

“Okay, listen—“ I started once more, only to be immediately interrupted.

“No, you will not—“

“Love, please, just listen!” I insisted. “I just want to—“

“You could just listen to me when I tell you that—“

We were getting nowhere. So I just kissed her. That usually worked.

And to be fair — it did. I could still see a lingering anger born from frustration in her eyes when I sealed her lips with mine, but this way, we were both happy in one regard, at least: We both shut up. After a moment, I gave her free and despite still feeling frustrated and annoyed with her, I could not help but grin.

She sighed and shook her head. “We are not getting anywhere. Maybe we should turn around. Visit the other places tomorrow. Maybe it could give us an indication of what we are meant to do here.”

“Door’s closed,” I remarked.

But she just raised an eyebrow at me. “You say that as if it is meant to hinder me. If I want to go through that wall, there will be no wall.”

I chuckled a little, even though it maybe should have been troubling to hear her so casually threaten violence. “Right. Fair point. But we’ve gotten so far and we’ve done well, I like to think. I would like to clear this thing out and just forget about it? Well, not everything, just… you know. We’re really close. The damn key is right there. And I think we can do it.”

She sighed and did not seem convinced. So I tried my worst puppy dog eyes. Worst, because I had no ‘best’. It always felt awkward doing that and I was told on multiple occasions that it looked quite ridiculous. So it was a good sign when she failed to deny that smile, and after a moment even quietly snorted, putting a hoof on my muzzle to shove me away. “Stop it,” she pleaded. I tried a little whimper and she giggled. “You will not convince me just by putting on a miserable show. What is your plan?”

Well — she would listen. That was good enough for me. I canceled the show and smiled. “Thank you.” And just to make things crystal clear, I pulled her down and gave her a kiss. “I love you.”

I had to control myself not to snicker as she grumbled something before answering in kind. “I love you too.”

With that small step of reconciliation done, I turned my attention to the pit again. “You tie the rope to me and step on it on your end. I do not want to turn around and see you tie it to yourself, you hear me? Bite down on it. Step on it. I don’t care. But don’t tie it around you. I will make the jumps. And if things go south, you catch me. You said you can still break through the dampening field, right? So it shouldn’t be impossible for you to activate your telekinesis and just… lift me up to a pillar if I mess up my jump.”

“It is hard to gauge just how strong this field is,” she replied with a furrowed brow. “I am sure that I can break through at least once. If you fall, I will not put you back onto a pillar. I will put you right there, over on that side.”

It was as much of a compromise as I would get out of her, I knew that. And really, that was fine by me. I was getting sick and tired of pits. “Deal.”

And so we prepared. A rope tied around my barrel. We went over the exact course I had to jump three more times. My nerves were rising again. Anxiety twisted my stomach into a knot all over again. I was not an adventurer. This feeling was very much uncomfortable for me. I would gladly leave the thrill-seeking to bone-headed daredevils like Rainbow. But doing this… being here, with her… it was an experience, certainly. One I found hard to regret. I did not care much for the adventure, but I did care for the company. Maybe next time, a nice, quiet trip to the Crystal Empire would suffice.

My first jump was carefully measured. I had made a few probably ridiculous looking test jumps on the protrusion we were on, just to make sure I understood what I was doing. And really, perching on this tiny pillar high above the bottomless void was not exactly doing wonders for my confidence. But — the first jump was done. Only nine more to go.

There was no wall chasing me. Despite this being one of my worries, there was no ceiling lowering itself either. So I had once more all the time in the world. And I took my precious time. I felt sweaty and the last thing I liked to imagine — and did anyway, because of course I did — was slipping.

I was two jumps away from the other side when I stopped and blankly stared ahead, both annoyed with what I was seeing, and afraid of it. “I found the catch,” I half-yelled.

“I cannot see anything. What is it?” she asked. And I could hear the worry dripping from her voice.

Two more pillars to jump and I would be done. But all the pillars around me seemed to be glitching in and out of reality. Their contours broke apart, reshaped themselves, they vanished and reappeared a few inches to the left, or the right, or were suddenly a smidge higher, or lower. I could no longer trust my eyes.

My heart was rapidly beating in my chest. I could hear my blood rushing in my ears. I could feel fresh sweat break out and dared not to raise a hoof to wipe at my brow. “I… I don’t see the pillars anymore… they spasm all over the place…”

“Stay calm,” she tried to tell me. Tried to soothe me. But to no avail. I could not tear my eyes away from the visual mess of information my brain tried to make sense of. “Can you turn back?”

I was suddenly very much willing to do just that. But as I turned, I saw the same effect inflicting the pillars behind me. I shook my head and swallowed hard. “N-No.”

“Stay calm,” she repeated. I tried. I really did. She fell silent for a moment. Probably mulling things over. I was almost there. Guiding me back would be a lot more dangerous than guiding me forward. “I will try to describe it. You need to listen carefully, and stay focused. Can you do that?”

“I—… I’ll try?” My voice sounded horribly frail. “I’ll try,” I repeated and mustered some strength from… somewhere.

“Turn around again. Slowly. Stop when I tell you to.” I did. I felt nauseous as my head started to spin in horror with all the imagined scenarios of what might happen next. “Stop. Good. The pillar is… two feet ahead of you. Same level as the one you are standing on.”

I looked ahead. I tried to see it. And at times, I could. It still vanished and reshaped and relocated every second, but sometimes, it was there. I stared at it until the vertigo got worse in an effort to burn this into my memory, hoping it would somehow help me stick the landing.

“Take all the time you need. I have you secured. There is no rush. And love… please remember to breathe…”

Oh. I inhaled deeply, greedily. My head was light, and spun a little but it got better over the next couple of seconds. Until it got worse again and I tried to refrain from hyperventilating. I was just awful at finding a middle ground. As always.

It took several minutes of me standing there. I was not getting any more confident in my jump. But I did notice that the anxiety got to my legs. That slight tremble now and then was a very disturbing warning. My tense muscles would eventually just give up. I had to do it and I had to do it soon.

“I’m going to jump,” I announced.

“I can see you,” she replied.

Stick the landing, I told myself, Just stick the damn landing…

I waited for another moment, waited to see the pillar where she had described it to be. And when I saw it, even for that one second where it remained in place, I jumped.

And it vanished.

“Wha—?” I was not entirely sure if that had been my voice or hers.

I flailed wildly with my legs and I painfully hit the pillar right next to me while I fell.

“No!” I heard her yell in a commanding voice and a blinding light erupted in the chamber, flooding everything with the sun's grace. I felt my descent slow immediately. I felt the soothing warmth of her embrace, even if it was just her magical aura holding me. I dared to open my eyes, and stared into the abyss beneath me while a golden glow was tenderly wrapped around my barrel. I looked over to the other side of the room and saw her standing there. The rope was gone, somehow.

A second passed.

Then another.

And I remained where I was. And it started to dawn on me that something was wrong. Oh so very wrong. Why did she not lift me back up again? “Celestia? Sunny?”

I saw her. How she strained herself. With both front hooves firmly planted on the ground, breathing heavily, teeth gritted, horn aglow. She was suddenly yanked forward. Just a few inches. But it happened. And in that very same moment, I fell again. Just a few inches, but that very much happened.

“Let… go…!” she hissed, but the temple's magic just did what it was designed to do.

Fear gripped me. Another yank. She was pulled closer to the edge. And I was pulled further down.

And I thought, for just a second, that I could see it. Truly see how this would play out. Maybe even how this was meant to play out. Maybe I had failed her. It mattered little now. I was falling. If she wanted it or not. Another yank and I could see that she was mere inches away from the edge herself.

Stop, I begged. I dared not to voice it, but I begged nonetheless.

My mind was ablaze. Panic drenched and painted every thought. So many of those were chasing each other, without rhyme or reason.

“No!” she yelled defiantly. She reared up high and brought her hooves down with force. She tried. She tried to command what was not meant to listen. The sheer force of her display broke apart the stone. The edge crumbled. Little pieces sailed down, deeper than I had fallen already. I did not hear them hit the ground. Maybe because my blood, rushing in my ears, was this loud. Maybe because the ground was so far down.

Stop, I begged once more. Did she not see? Did she not realize? This was not a battle she was meant to win.

Another yank dragged her forward. She had problems finding grip on the protrusion, but she stood firm and tall. For now. The next one would pull her in. I could not allow that.

“Stop!” I yelled. I could barely hear my own voice over the rushing blood, over the cracks of the ice, gripping me with its panic. “Let go!”

It took her a moment to realize that I was addressing her.

And she recoiled from it. Tried to anyway. As if I had hit her. Square in the muzzle, with a hoof. There was so much anger in those eyes, a thin veil for all the fear below it. Oh how I knew that. How I could emphasize. Feel what I saw in her eyes now.

“Please let go!” I begged.

I did not want to die. Despite feeling like this might be it, despite my worries of losing everything I had, a part of me stubbornly clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, this was just an illusion. A hoax. And I would fall and fall and fall and be teleported to safety. Sorry, you messed up, try again tomorrow. That desperate hope was enough to keep yelling at her. “Let go!” I commanded.

She looked me in the eyes. Fierce determination. And so much anger. Defiance. “No,” she replied. Whispered, probably. I saw her mouth it, but could not hear it. And a fraction of a second later, the next yank came and pulled her over the edge. She had expected it. Her fall disturbed her concentration, broke her magic. I started falling again. I saw her open her wings. I saw her grit her teeth against the pain as her wings clipped against the stone pillars, again and again. She angled herself forward and within seconds reached me.

She pulled me tightly against her chest and closed her wings around me. Like a cocoon. There was so much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to yell at her. But whatever would happen next, I did not know. We looked at each other. So much to say. I remained quiet and burrowed my face on her chest. She laid her head atop mine. Every breath was her scent. A memory. A tearful goodbye, as I tried to stem the tide of fear.

A sudden, painful jolt ran through my legs as they made contact with solid ground.

Curious. We had fallen head first.

I dared to open my eyes. We both stood on the other side. The flat stone bowl was nearby, presenting the key to us. There was no resistance to speak of as I let magic flow into my horn, and picked the stupid thing up in my telekinesis. It put it in my saddlebag and looked in her direction. I did not look at her. I did not look her in the eye. Just her direction.

She understood well enough.

A blinding bright light engulfed the two of us, and we reappeared in front of Rarity’s tent in the late afternoon hours. I went inside without caring much for anything. However, I was careful about not dragging too much dust into Rarity’s precious, pompous bed. I laid down, and rested my head. And I felt like crying. Like breaking down. But no tears came. I just laid there, vacantly staring at the backside wall of the tent.

I was still alive. Hooray.

And now the messy part started. Wherein I had to make sense of it all.

My sensible, reasonable love, calm and serene. I had seen so much furious anger distort her beautiful face. She had jumped after me. There were possible explanations. Possible justifications. Maybe she had somehow known? Maybe she had done the math and concluded that this part of hers could not have been the intended second player part. Who would ever make such a jump just by listening to a description? No matter how precise. Was that even possible? Maybe she had known that jumping after me was what she was meant to do.

We got the key, after all. What happened had apparently been the intended solution. Right? Maybe I was reading too much into this. The temple was ancient after all. Did temple magic get dementia? Or maybe it was about the mystery of who had built them in the first place. We did know little, if anything, about the civilization that had lived here. Maybe dragging a servant or slave or even a friend through both challenges only to sacrifice them at the end was part of their culture? I had heard worse about some traditions griffons used to hold dear.

Alicorns were tough. She looked all graceful and even fragile at times. But in the end, her only true vulnerability might very well have been on an emotional level. Weapons rarely cut her. Knives sure did not. Would a direct hit from a spear pierce her skin? Poisons did little. Would falling from such height even give her a headache? Maybe she had just dared to make a bet. Take a chance. Even if, say, her bones would have broken. Would they mend? How quickly? Maybe she really would have been able to keep me safe.

Maybe she did?

After all, I just plopped down onto the ground. With the dampening field already lifted, as far as I could tell. Maybe she had teleported us out of the abyss. Maybe the dampening field did not reach all the way down.

There was a noticeable shift in the bed's weight distribution when Celestia entered the tent and climbed up onto the bed with me.

I was furious. I was so angry that I had no words to describe just how angry I was with her.

And yet I slid over a few inches to make room. And she wordlessly joined me. She did not dare lay right behind me. She did not dare touch me, and a part of me had waited for that. Waited for any reason, no matter how small and stupid and irrational to just explode into her face. But she was Celestia. Thousands of years old. With so much experience that I would never be able to fathom her thought patterns. She probably knew exactly what I was thinking about. What she was able to get away with right now. Calculating. Scheming. Pulling strings on puppets.

No. No, that’s wrong. Wrong direction. And unfair. Don’t go down that road…

It was difficult. Difficult not to go there. Difficult to pull back. Difficult not to fall into a pit of spite and senseless thrashing around. All that anger wanted out. Searched for a vent. Searched for an opportunity to hurt. But I would not let it.

I was not sure how long exactly I laid there. I eventually dared to close the gap between us. I scooched closer to her, pressed my back against her belly and accepted the wing she wordlessly draped over me. And I still boiled internally. There was still so much spite at the tip of my tongue. How could she?

All the explanations were irrelevant. All the justifications were null and void. There were too many variables. Too many ‘maybe’s. Too many risks she should not have taken.

Another while passed. It had been hours since our return to camp. I was somewhat certain of that, at least. Even though I did not know how many hours.

I finally shifted again. And turned around to face her. It felt like a titanic task. To face my love, and to talk to her. I knew that this conversation would be very unpleasant. And had a high likelihood to devolve into a shouting match. Or rather, me shouting at her. Celestia did not shout. Period.

“You jumped,” I said. It was as clear an accusation as I could make it.

She took a deep, steadying breath, fortifying herself for what was to come. “I did.”

Her simple acknowledgement of the facts already made my blood boil again. How dared she be this calm? “You could have died,” I continued and tried to keep my voice steady.

“I know,” she replied.

I tried to swallow that lump in my throat, but it would not be vanquished this easily. “What were you thinking…!” No question this time. Not really. I spoke quietly. Barely audible, to limit how much my volume could spike at the end. She did not answer after a couple of seconds. But I noticed that she stared past me. “Celestia, look at me,” I demanded. And as she did, she seemed… vulnerable. “You could have died!” I repeated. “Don’t you care about that?!”

“I do,” she answered.

“Well, sure as shit didn’t look like it from my perspective!” I burst out. I took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to rein myself in again. “You can’t die. You hear me? You can’t! You’re not allowed! I do not allow you to die! I never did! You can’t just…” I interrupted myself as I noticed my quickly rising volume again. “You are needed, Sunny. Goodness gracious me, you are needed out there! There are thousands of ponies depending on your guidance! There is a little sister that adores you and still needs you to be there for her! There is a ‘faithful student’ of yours seeking your council every so often. There’s an entire nation of your ‘children’ waiting for your return!” I just gave up. With every sentence, my voice grew louder once more and every attempt to keep it firm and steady and in check failed. “You can’t die! You hear me? What the buck were you thinking jumping after me?!”

“I cannot lose you.”

It was a simple statement. Spoken without defiance or conviction, without any inclination whatsoever. As neutral and objective as an observation could be. And it was even more infuriating than her avoiding my gaze again.

“I can’t—… you can’t…? Are you bucking kidding me?! Sunny. Love. Please! You can’t just… do you value your life so little?” My mouth snapped shut only after I had spoken. By that point, of course, it was too late. Her eyes fixed me. Fixed me in place like needles holding down an insect for study. It was as much of a warning as it was a mirror. Had it not been my idea to try the third challenge, after all? But I felt my own anger rise, bubble to the top and bolster my own defiance. And in a rather unwise move, I grimaced and spoke. “I am not worth—“ And that was all. All I managed to get out before I was interrupted.

“I cannot lose you!” she yelled. Getting an earful of the Royal Canterlot Voice in such close proximity had a rather sobering effect. The ringing persisted for a couple of seconds before it finally receded. I just stared at her. It was apparently enough of an invitation to say more. Or maybe she really felt the need to explain. “I am well aware of my responsibilities and commitments. Of all that I have… and all that I stand to lose. I was not sure if—… I did not exactly have a lot of time to—…” Her voice trembled and broke. “I have not dared to let anyone close to me for a thousand years. I had not dared to love for such a long time that I thought I had forgotten how it feels. I had not expected this decision to turn out as it did. But the moment came and the scales tipped and surprise or no, the decision was made. Please… please, love, let me be selfish just this once…”

Taken aback, I was faced with a scenario I had feared for a long, long time.

We had always made it work, somehow. Her long days in court, crowned with a lovely evening in her chambers. A shared bath. An afternoon hour in her study, stolen from her ever rising mountains of paperwork. Sometimes, something as little as what I had just recently offered to Moondancer: Me sneaking into her room late at night, crawling in bed beside her. Sharing a night and a bed. We had taken the scraps at every corner. Enjoyed them. We had wriggled around in an effort to make some more room, somehow. And we had always made it work.

And I had forced her to decide.

I had feared this decision for so long. From the early days of our relationship onwards. We kept things secret for a time. As secret as somepony can keep a relationship with The Princess Celestia while frequently visiting Canterlot Palace. And I had feared the day when she would be forced to decide between Equestria and me. I had always considered that scenario unavoidable. Inevitable. She was the eternal ruler, after all. It would come up eventually.

But not like this. Never like this.

For me, in my head, the decision had always been made. Easy and simple. Equestria was more than just a nation, more than her pet project. It was heaven given form. It was a utopia she was working on. And every pony was as close to a child to her as they could get. And she looked out for them.

She never should have chosen to jump after me.

I sighed. And even though we were lying close already, I scooched closer still and buried my muzzle on her chest, deeply inhaling her scent with every shuddering breath. And it helped. It soothed my nerves. And even if it only lasted for a brief period, it even eased my worries and anxieties. When I pulled back again, my anger was almost completely gone. Spent and drained. How could I ever begrudge her the wish for company? Me. The bottomless hole. It was so easy to feel hollow and empty, and so hard to feel fulfilled. I craved company, craved to love and be loved. To a degree that Applejack called me obsessed. And maybe she was right.

I kissed my love. As if I needed a reminder that yes, I loved her very much. And she loved me. A lot more than I had been aware of, maybe. I could not decide if that was a troubling thing, or a flattering one. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you choose. And for whatever it might be worth… I deeply regret not listening to you and leaving that stupid temple behind.”

There was a lot going on in her head. I could see that. I felt the urge to say more. Explain more. Apologize more. But I kept my mouth shut. It would do little good and knowing myself, I would start rambling from the second sentence onward.

“You are not angry anymore?” she quietly asked. And once again with a vulnerability in her voice that made me carefully consider my steps. Celestia was not built out of glass. She could be as tough as stone if she wanted to be. Which made these moments all the more precious. Few ponies were allowed to see or hear her like this.

I sighed and leaned in to kiss her. It was a tentative kiss at first. Almost like we had never done this before and were cautiously testing the waters. But after a few seconds, the familiarity set in and we both allowed a little bit of our dedication for one another to bleed into the gesture. After we broke apart, I tried a smile and found that it did not feel as forced as I had feared. “I’m not. I could never be angry with you, not for that. It would be horribly hypocritical. I can’t sleep a single night alone without feeling lonely the entire next day. Six years later and I delight in every kiss you give me as if it had been the first of its kind. Some of my memories tell me in fractured pictures and sounds of just what I was willing to do, how far I was willing to go, for those I loved. I feel horrible for ever having thrust that decision upon you. But I’m not angry.”

We both fell silent for a while after that. Lying in a close embrace, we tried to cope. Tried to process what had happened, both in the temple and more recently.

It was a strange discovery. Realizing that I could have died and all the processing of that actually took a backseat to my rage about her decision. When that part came — the ‘almost dying’-part —, she was there for me. I did not say a single word and I did not need to. When a slight tremble ran down my body, her wing gripped me tighter and her feathery blanket pulled me closer to her, pressing me against her. I could feel her heartbeat and that was oh so very comforting.

So many occasions. So many sleepovers. So many get-togethers. They had told me of their adventures time and again, in this life and all the others. Of their defeat of Nightmare Moon. Their quirky battle against Discord — in those cycles where there was a Discord to be battled. The confrontations with Tirek. And Chrysalis. And so many more. And they made for good stories. Funny little tidbits to giggle at when sitting around the campfire. And barely did I ever truly think about how many instances of almost-death they included.

Was this what everypony called an adventure?

A barely survived chain of events, carried by luck and adrenaline?

I was not about to cancel this trip. This was my vacation with my love and come hell or high water, we would have fun. We would enjoy ourselves. We would make it work. We always did.

But goodness gracious me, I looked forward to returning home to my safe and secured indoors-‘adventures’. And we had barely made it through the first day.

“Love?” she asked after what felt like an eternity.

“Hm?”

“Do you happen to know if Rarity had some kind of shower installed in this palace of a tent? I feel a lot grimier than I would like.” Just to make a point, she shifted a little uncomfortably and I could not help but smile. Rarity would probably try to kill us if she could see what we were doing to her bed right now. Not to mention what I intended to do to her bed later on.

“Lucky you. I think there should be a bathtub upstairs.” At this point, I had honestly simply tired myself out. There was only so much existential dread one pony could reasonably have in a certain timeframe. The horror had dulled and the implications elicited mental shrugs. Maybe it was as good of a point as I would get to leave the processing of these events for later. I did however remember that bottle of wine. I was not sure if my previous idea had been such a great one or if the mood was still salvageable enough for it to work. But I was willing to find out. “We could take a look and if it’s large enough, maybe we could… you know… take a bath together? With a bottle of wine?”

She hummed with appreciation for my idea. And a few moments later, we climbed out the bed, she fetched the bottle and the glasses and I took a glance upstairs at what we were working with. Luckily, Rarity’s taste and flair for grandeur was something a pony could depend on. For the two of us, it would be a cuddly affair. But that was quite alright in my books. So we used another of the dozen command words Rarity had given me to fill the tub, and for the next hour or so, we enjoyed both the warm water, the wine, and each other’s company. And with the time passing, breathing became easier again and my heart did not feel quite as heavy. Her occasional giggling surely contributed to that. How was one supposed to keep a serious and sour mood with such a delight of a mare nearby?

We eventually climbed out of the bath and the same command word got rid of the water. Quite a convenient enchantment.

We were still in the middle of drying ourselves off with a bunch of towels when I suddenly felt her magic snake along my back. The sensation made me shiver in delight. “What are you doing?” I asked with a smirk.

“Remember that time we raced to the castle?” she replied with a smile. “You tried so desperately to find some ticklish spots on me… without any regards for decency or politeness.”

I chuckled quietly and nodded. “I remember. I had not been all that successful back then. But I have found some success in the intervening years, so beware!”

There was this mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. Her smile did not change, but in a rare gesture, she subtly bit down on her lower lip. Before letting her magic brush over my collarbone. Just as she had expected, I could not prevent myself from laughing. And I immediately swung around and faced her. She wanted to see that as a challenge? Fine! She could have her challenge! “Oh, you are on!”

I chased her around the room for a spell, with both of us merrily giggling away, before she fled down the stairs with me hot on her heels. I managed to grab her in my telekinesis just long enough as she was passing by the bed to give her a little shove to the side. She lost her balance and with a startled yelp fell right onto it. And before she had regained control, I was looming over her.

Well. Not as much ‘looming over her’ and more like sitting on her chest. With a very smug grin.

“Oh no. It seems I have been caught. Whatever shall I do?” she quipped with a smile, while a certain, familiar fire rose to her eyes and cheeks. “Be careful, though,” she continued with a huskier voice. “You would not want Rarity to hunt you down, would you?”

I leaned in for a passionate kiss. “I’m so going to make this worth being hunted down for,” I let her know and enjoyed seeing her shiver in anticipation. Our giggles and quiet laughter filled the air once more, before quickly changing to heavier breathing and moans.

Truth

I woke up in heaven. A very cozy bed beneath me, captured in a warm embrace and with the sound of soft, quiet breathing to my side. Celestia and I were lying on the bed, closely intertwined. I sighed quietly, happily. And decided to follow my first impulse. I closed my eyes again, inhaled her soothing scent and nestled even closer. There was a slight movement from her, but either she did not wake up, or she decided to follow my lead. I listened to her heartbeat. Strong and powerful, and yet at the same time calm and steady. I cherished every inch where our bodies met. And while I quickly lost track of time, I became certain that this… this was, must be, what heaven felt like. Free of worry and concerns. But welcoming and full of soothing warmth and love.

“We will have to get up eventually,” her quiet voice broke the silence.

I grinned into her coat and pursed my lips to give her a kiss right on top of her chest. And then another, and another. “Do we?” I mumbled in between and enjoyed the soft hums she gave in appreciation. “We’re on vacation. Week in bed. Sounds lovely.” Another kiss, higher up this time. She inhaled and shifted ever so slightly. I knew what was coming. She was mustering her formidable force of will. To become The Voice of Reason. Can’t have that, I thought with a lazy grin and ever so carefully took a patch of her skin between my teeth. Just the tiniest nip, right on her collarbone. A small gasp followed, then a faint ghost of a giggle. And I felt even more happy now.

Despite my caution, the thought of maybe having caused her pain occurred unbidden. To ease it away, I kissed the very same patch I had nipped at. Twice, for good measure.

She leaned down and placed a tender, loving kiss on my head. And just as warm as the gesture was, so clear was its message. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is fun, but we have stuff to do.’ Something like that. And I had to battle my sheer unwillingness to comply. A sudden burst of defiance. I wanted to be a whiny little brat, arguing in futility against the unfairness of it all.

In the end, I sighed in defeat and refrained from whining. I did not want to ruin the mood after all.

I raised my muzzle and disentangled my limbs from hers. At least partially. But the effort itself was rewarded with yet another kiss and a soft “Good morning.“ I replied in kind, and for a moment, I sank into her eyes once more and came to a full stop to just gaze at her. Admire her. Not dissimilar to what I had done the previous day, while we had transported the egg over the gap.

However, even the last traces of this spell eventually faded away. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. My mind was drawing blanks. No thoughts, no worries, no plans. Nothing to consider or think through for several moments. Until my stomach grumbled. Quite loudly, too.

And as if they were having a conversation all on their own, my love’s belly answered with a low, more subdued growl of its own. We both looked at each other before we giggled a little. “We might have forgotten something yesterday,” she offered.

I nodded in agreement. With all the excitement, we might have indeed. “Bathroom first?” I asked briefly.

“We are on vacation,” she answered with a lazy smile and slowly shifted to roll onto her back. Her wings carefully stretched out to their very impressive size, jutting out over the edges on both sides of the bed.

I had to snort in amusement. So vacation meant brushing teeth was less important? Or that food did not taste strange when consumed before that? Or did it mean that a bladder had suddenly increased storage volume? I considered a quip of sorts, but ultimately thought better of it and just sparked my horn to life. I fumbled around with the clasp on her saddlebags for a moment before I finally pulled out one of the bags she had brought along. It floated over to us and I opened it up to hoof one piece to her and take one for myself. It had the size of a thick slice of bread and smelled faintly of vegetables. Carrots and beans, mostly. Someone with refined tastes and a better nose than mine would probably have been able to identify a lot more than that.

I took a bite. Allfood was… a military ration to deal with unreliable supply chains. Considering this origin, it tasted really good. It was a bit chewy and most definitely way too dry, but it tasted good. I freed our Neverend bottles to flush down our meal. Allfood and water. We were living like kings and queens.

But truthfully, neither of us minded much. She was still lying there and somehow managed to eat without even raising her head. And without leaving crumbs all over the pillow. Quite an impressive feat. And I just absentmindedly nibbled at my piece, satisfying my neglected tummy, while I continued to gaze at her. Right now, it was less of a carnal desire that made me look at her, and more… well, I even had difficulties putting that into words myself. I came to the mildly awkward conclusion: I just generally liked to look at her.

The slice was eventually gone. We both took a second one, and a third one after that and continued our breakfast until we finally felt satisfied. I might even have gone too far by stuffing myself with a third slice.

“How is Luna doing?” she asked me while she lingered there and left the hard work to her stomach.

My thoughts drifted back to last night. “Well…” I started with a growing smile.

I arrived in the dreamscape and much to my surprise, I was already expected. It was usually the other way around. I came in and had to find her. But tonight, she was there. Right there. Close enough that I only had to raise my hoof and it would brush along her flank.

It was mildly alarming to see her in her current state. She paced around frantically. And as soon as she noticed my arrival, she breathed a sigh of relief. Which obviously only worried me further. “Finally!” she greeted me, only to rush forward and hug me rather tightly.

“H-Hey Luna. You’re looking good…” Alright. Maybe I really needed to take a step back and sort myself out before talking.

Luna pulled back, actually pushed me back at the same time, and stared at me with a mixture of panic and disbelief in her expression. “Art thee—… are you drunk?!”

That could obviously not be true. I had one teeny-tiny glass, after all. One. I admittedly rarely drank alcohol. But it was a glass of wine. That was basically, like, old grape juice. Nevertheless, I heard genuine concern in her voice and faint traces of panic. It was enough to quickly make a decision and thus, I sobered up in an instant. I loved the dreamscape. “No?” I asked, finishing the job of getting rid of the last traces. “No, of course not.“

She did not even notice. Which was quite alarming.

She instead resumed her frantic pacing for a moment. “We needeth thy— I need your help! And you are not allowed to tell Tia!”

“I—… uhm… okay?” I was really starting to get worried. Luna was steadfast. Fuzzing like this was not like her. “Lu, calm down. And sit down. And then take a breath and tell me what’s wrong.” But she just did not listen. She paced instead. And was about to start babble in an effort to explain whatever this was. And I was having none of that. “Luna! Sit!” Eyes wide, her entire body tensed… and she plopped down on her haunches. There was no small amount of indignation in her expression, but she kept her mouth shut for now. “Now please, just… take a breath. In, hold, out.” She inhaled while she closed her eyes. And after a second she exhaled slowly at a measured pace. “Good. Now listen, whatever is going on — you know this place better than I do. We got time, alright? So try to slow down. Sort through this stuff. And tell me what’s wrong.”

She did not like others telling her what to do. It was endearing at times how she could huff and puff and stomp. On other occasions, I was willing to argue that she was entitled. Honestly, neither point of view seemed entirely fair. Right now, my choice of words luckily seemed to do their work just fine and she gave a curt nod in acknowledgement of my ‘help’.

“This concerns my Night Court,” she started.

Which made sense, it was just that… it was night. Right now. Where the Night Court would be held. So whatever happened must have happened very recently. Which might be a good thing or a bad thing, depending on the nature of it. I nodded and wordlessly asked her to continue.

“I had made the decision to start Court early. Before dusk, to ease the transition. Three nobles visited the open audience. They brought one of their scribes along, and a lot of paperwork. They addressed me politely and with respect. But I would not be so easily fooled into a lull. I had been warned about these sorts. When they started to explain, I found it difficult to glean their intentions at first. They were endlessly rambling on about laws I knew little about. Of course I had done my research, I had tried to understand how our laws had evolved and changed. But they were basing their dispute on minute details. Intricacies I did not fully grasp. They apparently had found a gap in the tax law? Seeing how polite and friendly they seemed, I was under the impression that they merely wished to inform us of this oversight, but oh no. No, no, no, no, no. They wished to exploit it! Of course they did. Stuck up little inbred bunch of—“

“Luna,” I admonished.

She sighed and nodded. “Right. They presented me with a document. Some sort of tax restitution? Quite frankly, the numbers on those documents were ridiculous. They had calculated the excess taxes for a dozen generations past, or something like that. They told me that their three families would ‘refrain from informing the other families or the public’ if the processing of their documentation could be ‘reasonably sped up’.”

“They tried to blackmail you,” I concluded and furrowed my brow. And I suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. Did she not constantly jest about throwing arrogant supplicants out of the windows...? What if she truly did?

Luna confirmed my initial suspicion with a nod. “Now, I do not know how much gold our treasury currently holds, exactly—“

“I don’t think it’s a ‘treasury’ anymore,” I cut in with a small smile and tried not to panic. “Or a vault. Or gold.” Surely she did not throw ponies out of windows, right?

“It is not? Well that is even worse then!” she complained. “I told them I would look into this as soon as I can, that I would refer to the treasure master when next I had the opportunity. But they became rather… pushy.”

Here it came. I was torn between wanting to grin and grimace. Pushing Luna was a dangerous game to play. It did not take a lot for her to push back — and when she did, well. She was no mare of half-measures. “What did you do to them?” I asked both in anticipation and dread.

“It is less about what I did, and more about what I said…”

I tried to stifle my chuckle and took a minute or two to finally recompose myself. I could feel my cheeks and ears burn. “… she’s doing fine,” I belatedly finished my sentence.

“Fine?” Celestia echoed doubtingly.

“Well, I mean… it’s Luna we’re talking about,” I tried in jest, but Celestia’s expression soured enough to quickly abandon that attempt. I instead started to explain, albeit still with a grin. “Some pompous nobles barged into her audience and tried to pull a fast one on her. They had found some hole in the tax law or something and tried to blackmail her into giving them quite a substantial amount of bits.”

“That sounds serious,” my love replied. “How did she handle the situation?”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “She basically told them to go buck themselves. She just didn’t say it this quickly, or this quietly, or this calmly, or with such refined and flowery language.”

Celestia’s eyes bulged a little. “Less refined?”

I could feel my cheeks burning again and nodded in amusement. Hearing Luna swear up a storm was always quite impressive. I was pretty sure she could put an old sailor to shame and according to legend, those folks had quite the repertoire. “After that, she ordered the guards to drag them out of Court and out of the palace.”

My love’s pristine white coat somehow got a little whiter still. “Oh goodness.”

And with a final sigh, I let my amusement go. While it was all fun for me, Celestia looked troubled. I scooched over and prodded her wing until she retracted and refolded that one side. It allowed me to sit down on my belly right next to her and lay my head on her chest. A good position to look up at her. “Don’t,” I quietly asked.

“But what if she—“ Celestia started.

And I cut in. “She won’t. Love, remember. This is a part of this entire experiment… adventure… vacation… thingy. Once upon a time, she was your equal. She worked her lovely rump off in those past years to catch up. But there’s only so much books and aides and clerks can do for you. You agreed that she’s ready for this trial. So let her have this trial. Let her learn and grow at her own pace. It’s just a week. Maybe we will return to find a mess. I don’t think we will, but I won’t say that it’s not a possibility. And if so, she will need your help. And you can help her sort things out. Explain mistakes. Show her how it's done. And she will learn and understand and have a better grasp. Both on how this works today, and on what you have to put up with on a daily basis. And if we return and no mess is to be found? All the better! Then you can sit down for your next breakfast, and have a nice, long chat about her experiences. Don’t send a letter. Don’t return home. She’s a warrior, and an artist. She needs to find her own style of rulership. And she can’t do that if you’re constantly there, helping her out with your style. That way, she will just try to emulate you. And I think you’re well aware that this won’t go well forever. I dare to say that this was part of why you agreed to this vacation in the first place.”

Celestia stayed silent for a long while. I did not mind. My head rose and fell with her every breath. I felt her heartbeat at my throat, and it lulled me into a doze. I eventually saw her make a decision through my half-lidded eyes. And a playful spark danced in her eyes. “You are getting smarter. I should be wary.”

I snorted and chuckled. “Nah. I just talk a lot and eventually pick the right things to say.”

Despite the little sparing, she sighed again. “It is hard. She has always been my little sister. And I have always been her big sister. I looked out for her. Protected her as best as I could.”

For just a fraction of a second, images flashed before my eyes. Images of Luna in her armor. Battling hordes of changelings. Fighting through the ranks of enslaved crystal ponies. Driving her lance through the third heart of a thrasher worm. But that, I reminded myself, was different. Battlefields were something Luna could deal with. Cuts healed. Bones mended. But politics? Fake smiles and backstabbing? Intrigue? On the social stage, she was very much vulnerable. In a way she had difficulties to defend against. But Celestia had been there. To keep her safe. Out of harm's way. Out of those ballrooms and fancy dinner parties.

Mistakes had been made.

This time, she would not push her away. One could stand to learn from experience after all. And even failures and wounds were experiences.

I mimicked her sigh, raised my head and angled it down to kiss her chest before I looked up at her again. “She will always be your little sister, no matter what. As much as you will always be her big sister. And she will always look up to you in some manner. And you will always dote on her. I know that change is scary. I’m scared shitless every time something even remotely threatens to change. But things need to change. And you are one heck of a clever mare. You can work to make sure that it will be a good change. You’ve done that for ages. Literally. It feels different because it’s about Luna this time, and not ‘just a nation’. It hits closer to home. But trust me. You’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.”

After another bout of silence, she shifted and captured me with a kiss. “I love you.” Her words were all-encompassing. A ‘thank you’ for my pep-talk. A sign of appreciation for me trying. An expression for all the little and less little things chasing around in her head.

I smiled happily and kissed her back. “Now. How about we let Canterlot be burned to the ground by your vengeful sister and start the next day of adventuring? Preferably with fewer pits and near-death experiences.”

She quietly giggled and I loved that. “I like the sound of that. The latter especially.”

Said and done. A few minutes passed as each of us made our way upstairs and eventually back down. We put our saddlebags on, I studied the map again and chose our next destination while I simultaneously crossed out the first one. I thought I had noticed my left saddlebag getting a little heavier, but that made absolutely no sense and I disregarded the notion. That was even easier as Celestia came up behind me and let her primaries trail along my spine, up to my mane. A shudder ran down my entire body and for just a second, I considered pouncing on her right here and now.

I instead confidently walked out of the tent and immediately into a wall. At least it felt like that. I stumbled for a second, my breath caught in my throat and I had to plant my hooves firmly on the ground to steady myself. “Sweet Celestia, that’s awful,” I gasped.

“I am not sure what to think of that,” I heard her murmur behind me.

“Careful,” I tried to warn her, “it’s really, really warm outside…” A for effort. Celestia stepped into a burning late morning sun and cared little about the nascent midday heat. She instead sidled up to my side and extended a wing over me like a parasol. I took a moment to acclimate to the surrounding heat. Even inhaling felt like drawing burning air into my lungs. The shadow she granted me was appreciated and quite helpful. “You know… I’m not about to make a case for being sweaty and sticky all day, but right now, I’m considering the possibility of Rarity’s tent actually killing me. Sheesh, that’s a rough transition.”

It got easier with the passing minutes. We moved down the hill and left our camp behind once more. And as soon as we slipped into the jungle, she folded her wing again and we walked in the smothery, humid jungle air we already knew from yesterday. It was not exactly a pleasant experience, but it was better than walking in direct sunlight. And just like the day before, we eventually fell into a dull routine. We made our way across uneven terrain and progress felt incredibly slow. But that mattered little. What mattered was the next couple of steps. To get around that vine. To get over that fallen tree stump. To cross that small creek.

At one point in the early afternoon hours, a bunch of apes in the surrounding trees were making a ruckus. I could identify them as apes easily enough, but what apes specifically, well… I was no zoologist. They were looking for trouble and their teeth were admittedly impressive. Yet despite their numbers, I felt confident. I was not entirely sure what exactly she did. Celestia opened her wings and extended them. Not even to full size. She did not cast any spells or take any defensive stance. She just watched them for a moment, listened, and eventually picked one of them. She stared at him and he became quieter and quieter until he retreated. His retreat unsettled the others, who soon stopped hollering as well and eventually followed suit.

I was inclined to draw parallels to what Fluttershy could do with her stare. But this felt different.

I would ask about this. Eventually. That was what I told myself, at least. But seeing how the heat affected my capacity to think straight, I was not all that confident in my current memory.

Maybe two hours later, we arrived at our destination. It was another hemispherical dome built out of stone and covered with all sorts of greenery. The jungle had almost entirely grown over the structure which made it considerably harder to spot in the jungle. Without knowing where to look for it, one could easily pass it by.

Just like yesterday, the entrance had no door, no hallway, no enchanted threshold. Just a hole in the dome.

We stepped inside and the temperatures dropped almost immediately. A small part of my brain was wondering about that. I noticed it yesterday as well. This stone should absorb the heat and eventually give it off on the inside, should it not? Certain furnaces were built like that. Used by bakeries, I believed? An exchange of energy. Heat was ‘more energy’, cold was ‘less energy’. ‘More’ should flow towards ‘less’ in an attempt to even out the levels. But this just did not seem to happen here. Maybe it was some special kind of stone? Or the heat really was getting to me and I overlooked something critical.

We had circled around the structure on the outside of course. To get a first impression of its size and how many chambers we might have to deal with. But with this thing being half-buried beneath the jungle, it was quite difficult to tell where it actually started and where it ended. Now that we were standing inside though, it became quite clear that this would not take as long as our last trial. It was a single chamber. No other exits, no stone slab doors, no trapdoors or stairs. That was not a guarantee, of course — maybe succeeding at this first challenge would somehow magically open up another passageway. That was always a possibility. But right now, we only had to contend with a single test.

The entire chamber was empty except for the stone pedestal in the middle and the flat stone bowl on top of it. No pits. No ropes. No ladders or statues. No pressure plates, no pillars, nothing. Given that the chambers yesterday had been rather obvious about what they expected to be done, we cautiously walked over to the center. We still kept a wary eye on our surroundings though.

“There is an inscription,” Celestia noted while she looked at the pedestal itself.

“What does it say?” I asked. I was still busy staring at the ceiling. I could not tell if that darker patch of stone was something special or if that was a trick of the light. There were no scones in here, no torches. What light we had was the daylight that filtered in, both through the canopy of the jungle, and through the mound of the entrance. Which was probably why Celestia had lit her horn. Maybe it just looked darker? Or the stone had undergone some kind of change due to the plant matter on top of it? Maybe some kind of strange lichen was growing over that area and the stone only looked darker because of it.

The ceiling was most definitely too high up to just stretch a hoof and touch it.

“It says ‘truth’,” she answered.

Truth. Alright. Not exactly helpful. I shrugged and gave up on that ceiling spot. I instead turned my attention to the pedestal and stepped up to her side to take a look at it myself. The stone bowl on top was empty. But she was right, there was something carved into the stone pillar itself. Problem was: I was looking at the same patch she looked at right now and I did not read ‘truth’.

I read ‘ask’.

I furrowed my brow. Maybe some sort of enchantment. Most likely, actually. She saw something else than I did. It mattered little who saw what was truly there. Maybe there was nothing to begin with. The more relevant question was: Why was it there? Why was it letting us see two different words?

These places were meant as trials. To prove something. To prove worthy of a gift. Maybe it was about virtue? “Celestia, is it still afternoon?”

She looked in the direction of the entrance, just to make sure. “Yes.”

A little chime suddenly played. The sound of a very small, thin-walled bell. Just a single tinkle. But up there at the ceiling was now a key. Hanging suspended in mid-air, floating. It was barely even visible, translucent and with an only roughly defined shape. “Do you see that key up there?”

She turned her attention towards where I pointed and furrowed her brow. “I see it.”

And the key moved down. Less than half an inch. But it moved. My gaze dropped onto the stone bowl. Putting one and one together was easy at this point. I heard another tinkle from up above and when I looked, the key had risen back up to the ceiling. And a moment later, it was gone.

“What did you do?” she asked.

“I think I get it. See, you read ‘truth’ there. I don’t. There is something carved into the stone, yes. But for me, it says ‘ask’. You answered truthfully and the key appeared. You answered truthfully again and the key lowered down.” It was a simple task, in theory. Just ask a bunch of random questions. I highly suspected that asking if the sky was blue would not be allowed as an infinite loop. That would have been way too easy otherwise. And with the questions she had answered so far, the key had appeared and moved towards the bowl with such a tiny increment that it would take ages for us to get this done. Hours, at least. Late into the night, probably. But then again, I had only asked something quite mundane and obvious.

I wondered how this thing was weighing answers. If it did that at all. It obviously only waited for so long until the progress reverted. So once we were doing it, we should keep going until it was done.

Celestia had meanwhile put one and one together as well and now looked at the pedestal with immeasurable distaste. And I could understand why. She was a leader. A natural born politician. A diplomat. That did not necessarily mean that lying was her forte, but it did mean that rhetorical flourishes were important. That she had a knack for verbal duels. That language was a tool to her, one she could adapt and wield with talented finesse. Truth had no place for such fuzz, as Applejack had once put it so endearingly. Truth was plain, simple, without corners to cut.

I was willing to test my hypothesis. “Do you remember those earrings I gave you for your last birthday?” She had rarely ever worn them. I suspected I knew why, but at the same time, she had never told me. I had silently accepted what I believed to be true.

She gave a curt nod, with no indication of any emotional response. “I do.”

And yet, the key reappeared. Because it was an honest answer. “What did you think about them? Did you like them?”

Calm. Even. Measured. Not a single muscle twitched without her knowing about its intention and allowing for it to do so. She was at the pinnacle of her self-control. “Why do you ask?” she replied. “I told you already.”

She knew. She knew why I asked and I knew she knew. She was just unwilling to answer. “It’s okay. I know.”

She hesitated for a moment longer, before sighing quietly. “I do not like them. My mane sometimes gets stuck in them and they feel alien. I'm not used to wearing jewelry. But I did appreciate the thought and I did like their design.”

I had known, to a certain extent. Yet hearing it still hurt a little, despite my efforts to brace for it. And the reasons behind it baffled me. Honestly, I had never given it much thought. I had never really sat down and thought about why she might not have liked them. They had an intricate pattern. I had chosen them carefully, of course. They were meant to accentuate her beauty. Draw gazes to her eyes. But I had never seen her wear any other jewelry, ever. Maybe that should have been a clue.

All the while, the key lowered itself. Just by two inches or so, but that was a lot more than it had previously done, which seemed to confirm my suspicion. “It reacts to the nature of the question. Something superficial barely gets a rise out of it. Or a, uh, ‘lower’, I guess?”

She ignored the discovery, stepped closer to me and raised my chin. I had admittedly tried to avoid eye contact for a moment. To sort myself out.

“They are beautiful,” she insisted, “and I cherished the gesture as much as the thought you put into it. I just… do not like to wear them.”

I gave a defeated sigh, shook my head and smiled, even if it felt a bit queasy. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I knew it wasn’t… ideal. You never wore them and I never asked. Not every gift can be a winner, right?” I hugged her. Just to make a point. It was a little bit of a downer right now, but I would get over it soon enough.

The key rose up to the ceiling again and vanished shortly after.

“Right, you’re going to love that next part,” I teased her and pulled back so that I could properly grin at her.

This time, she did not try to hide anything. She openly grimaced at the thought as she knew full well what the little discovery meant. “I do not understand why we cannot just switch places. You usually have little issue being honest.”

I shrugged. “Maybe that’s the point? Or it chose you because you went in first and whoever steps in first gets to answer.”

“Can… can we at least verify that?” she pleaded.

I shrugged with a smile. “Sure.” And we left the dome. “You know, if it actually changes, you have to come up with questions.”

“Surely we can think of some together?” Celestia objected.

Good point, actually. I nodded and after another minute or so, I turned around and walked back in with her following me. “Still says ‘ask’,” I announced. Celestia did not even say it. She just glanced at it, sighed and sat down beside the pedestal.

The next half hour or so, we tried to come up with questions. But I soon realized that Celestia was not really all that willing to participate in the manner the trial required. More than once, she insisted that while the key only lowered slightly, we might just as well try to get it down with mundane questions. A lot of them. And on her insistence, we tried to repeat questions, as that would have made our lives significantly easier. Of course it did not work.

A stray thought eventually barreled into my musings. We were on this adventure so I could make a present for Twilight. It was a really funny and really ridiculous thought. We were sitting in an ancient jungle ruin, puzzling over long-forgotten trials of a civilization long gone, so that I could make a nice Hearth’s Warming present. Heck, I almost died yesterday. But my mind focused less and less about how stupid all of this seemed to be and more on the reason itself.

It was all about Twilight.

When I raised my gaze again, I had a vague idea that quickly transformed into a plan. “Got it,” I announced.

“You got what, exactly?” she asked in slight bewilderment.

“The question. I think we’ll only need one.”

Maybe it was the certainty with which I spoke that concerned her. Or the wolfish grin I sported while doing so. Or the fact that a single question was supposedly enough, according to my estimation. “I am not going to like this one, am I?”

Despite my smile, I sighed a little. “No. I don’t think you will. But quite honestly, it’s about time anyway. I’ve seen you carry this baggage around for way too long. You keep telling me that you will talk to me about it eventually, but you never do. I know, I know. Six years isn’t all that much for you. And I try to be patient. But that’s hard to do when it is so obvious that this ‘burden’ you carry doesn’t even have to be a burden to begin with. So now’s as good a time as any. Out with it. Do you love Twilight?”

The more I explained, the less thrilled she was about the whole idea. And once the question was actually dropped in her lap, she almost recoiled from it. “I am not going to answer that!” She even raised her voice a little. Just the tiniest bit. But with somepony like Celestia, such miniscule changes were always noticeable. And quite effective.

But I knew her. And I was not about to be discouraged just by her usual defense. “And why not? And that’s an honest question, love. You know me. You probably know me better than I know myself. I would never, ever, do anything to harm you. Ever. Same goes for Twi. Don’t you trust me?”

I was not playing fair. Or nice. In every relationship, be it of a romantic nature or not, there were certain phrases and questions that held power. Many were ‘insiders’, only relevant to the couple in question. Others had universally accepted power, bestowed by societal and linguistic evolution. ‘Do you trust me’ was one such phrase. Despite being intoned like a question, it rarely was one. And in many situations where it was used, there was only one right answer.

Celestia was smart. I had no doubt that if she truly wanted to, she could wriggle her way out of this predicament. She could make me believe that not answering was for the better or something like that. She could. But so far, she had refrained from pulling my strings. Many things needed careful consideration. Many ponies needed an unseen hoof guiding them. But so far, she had abstained from manipulating me. Well, as far as I could tell anyway.

“And you promise not to tell a single soul?” she finally asked with a surprisingly meek voice.

I scooched closer and nestled against her side. “You know I can’t do that. But. You also know that you can trust me. Come on. Trust me. I got your back.”

She was silent for a while. She eventually exhaled slowly, drawn out. “Have you ever… talked to Twilight about Spike? About their relationship? And I mean really talked to her about it.”

It seemed like a strange tangent to me. But I knew that I sometimes needed a certain buildup before I could tackle uncomfortable topics. Maybe this was just a preamble. To make something obvious, to stress a point. “I… can’t say I have. I mean, yeah, I have talked about him on numerous occasions, but I don’t think that’s what you’re after.” I fell silent and thought about it. But before she could start, I continued. “That being said, I talked to Spike about it. In one instance for a couple of hours, late into the night.”

She nodded. “They share a… unique bond. One that is defined by many factors. Some of which are ever-changing and hard to predict. At times, he serves her like my aides serve me. Or maybe like a clerk. But he is more than just a servant, of course. She hatched him. She cared for him. And with a lot of help from her parents, her foalsitter, her brother, even me, she raised him. When she is dissatisfied with his behavior, she demonstrates a stern hoof and an authoritarian voice. And once he was reprimanded properly, she gives him the tender love only a mother could give. Not an hour later, they run along the hallways, squabbling and giggling like siblings. Because they are. He is as much her little brother as she is his older sister. I found them in the library at one point. She explained kissing to him. And I could see her struggle with her own identity. I could see the mother, the sister and the teacher vying for dominance. Because he is her student as well. And she is his caretaker. And sometimes, he is hers. Ordering her to bed. Making sure she eats and eats enough. They are a great many things to each other, and few of these can be easily broken down into one or two words. Their relationship is unique and does not fit into conventional definitions.”

Throughout her explanation, her eyes had taken on this familiar, nostalgic sheen. Her mind drifted from beloved memory to beloved memory. I now knew what she was getting at. And I saw no reason to disrupt her reminiscence with inept commentary. I just quickly glanced at the key. It was still there. It had appeared, but it had not moved at all. Yet.

“My relationship with Twilight… is equally unique. That sounds a lot more pompous than it is. But it will serve its purpose better than calling it ‘complicated’. Do I love her, you ask. Yes. Yes, with all my heart.” And the key lowered by almost a fifth of the distance in one go. “But as I tried to explain, it is more than that. What ails me is not if I love her, but what kind of love I harbor for her. Due to the book you two wrote, I had knowledge of her long before she showed up to her entrance exam. Back then, I felt respect for the mare that had written this book. And deep gratitude. Maybe even reverence to some degree. Her work had helped me through many tough times and guided me in many difficult battles. But that changed on this fateful day. Not a seasoned wizard, knowledgeable beyond her years was presented to me, but a filly. With eyes so big and full of wonder. And she adored me like a goddess. She was such a fragile little thing. So naïve. And full of curiosity. Eager to learn all about anything and everything. And in time, I came to love her. Few students I had ever accepted as my personal protégé at such an early age. I guided her as best as I could. Taught her. I tried to be careful not to intervene too much with her parents raising her. But there is only so much a mare of my age can do to resist the charms of a young filly. There were times, more than enough moments, when it felt like she was my own flesh and blood. She grew into a fine young mare and I was so endlessly proud of my faithful student. I still am. I still see that filly in her at times, tumbling over my tail while trying to get a better look at the book I am reading. I still see the wonder in her eyes when learning something new about a world that, with each passing year, has less surprises in store for her. But her ascension changed things. Considerably. My little Twilight was not all that little anymore. I tried for a time. To distance myself from those early days. I tried to cut loose the filly I had raised. But as much as a mother can never truly abandon her foal, I only hurt myself without any progress made. And she… she was this beautiful young mare, still so obsessed with my approval. Still so very much in need of my guidance. Still my faithful student. But she offered me something new. Something unexpected. She offered me her friendship. We were not equals. Not quite yet. And she struggled with all the consequences of her own offer. Something as simple as addressing me as Celestia and not using my title made her squirm for quite some time. But that faded eventually. She became more comfortable around me. Around me as her friend. And we shared in laughter and delighted in our exchanges of knowledge. I witnessed her grow over years and years and without me realizing it, she became my equal. There was no single event that led to this spark. No singular moment responsible for an avalanche of revelations. It slowly creeped up on me and just as slowly dawned. I felt so very comfortable around her. I sought her approval without depending on it. I wanted her to be happy above many other things. My heart quickened its pace whenever I saw her smile. And eventually, love bloomed into attraction. She is a very beautiful mare, after all. It is only natural, is it not? That is what I would like to tell myself. But the fact of the matter is… I raised her. And even to this day, I can see that little filly in her eyes, naïve and full of curiosity. The thought of kissing her crossed my mind, and the vision is both exhilarating and disturbing. A part of me is and will always be her surrogate mother. And that part recoils in horror when I think about her… when I imagine… that. And yet I must admit that another part yearns for her. I am content to see her happy. But I do worry if it will be enough. If these urges might force my hoof at some point. And I will freely admit that I fear losing her, and it matters little in which way or why.”

The key had been steadily sinking down, gaining matter and texture and color, losing its wispy, translucent shape and was now lying in the stone bowl, ready to be picked up. I was in no rush to do that though. I had noticed it dip up higher again at one point and one point only.

“You’re still lying to yourself,” I said and got straight to the point. “You are not content with watching. And I don’t need fancy jungle magic to know that. You’re good, you know? You keep everything bottled up. You wear your masks. And you wear them with such ease because you’ve been wearing them for ages. Literally. But honestly, I’m not sure why, or when. But at some point, you apparently decided that you don’t want to wear masks around me. Not all the time anyway. And I’ve seen things. I’ve seen you buckle under the weight at times. I’ve tried to be there for you as best as I can, but the fact of the matter is: There’s limits to what I can do for you. If you’ll excuse the rudeness, but: I can rut your brains out, and that’s always good fun. But distraction can only bring you so far. It’s a treatment for the symptoms, not the root issue. We — that is to say, both Luna and myself — have tried time and again to get you to open up about this. We can’t force you. Heck, we don’t want to force you. But we care about you. We love you. And we want to see you happy too. You’ve led into this with Twilight and Spike as an example. I told you I’ve spoken to Spike at length. I asked him, actually. If he could imagine himself with Twilight. He’s… he was very nonchalant about it. Said he had never considered it. And he gave it some thought, because I asked him to. I was just curious at the time. Now, though? Now I’m glad I did. He said he couldn’t imagine himself being with her. Because it wouldn't work out, according to him. There was no disgust. Not in his eyes, or his voice. For him, it was just a simple matter of incompatibility of personalities. That obviously doesn’t mean Twilight has the same point of view. Maybe she would be more on your wavelength, regarding Spike. I honestly can’t tell. All I want to say is: Don’t assume. It’s a mistake. One I tend to make a lot. And don’t close doors that could lead to your happiness just because you think that what is on the other side might not ‘belong to you’. We can’t force you and we won’t. But please, consider talking to her. You two are friends. Believe, love. Believe that your friendship is strong enough to endure a ‘no’, if one should come. And for better or worse, having an answer might help you out. Rejection hurts. But at least you can move on. These wounds will heal. And she will help you as best as she can to make them heal. And if she doesn’t reject you, well, that opens up a whole new batch of interesting options. I know that one of the main issues is your own attitude towards her. And honestly, I don’t really have an easy fix for this. But I know that things can change. Feelings certainly can. Your mother instincts and your less motherly feelings for her don’t have to be on bad terms with each other. Your own example actually shows that. Parents, siblings, student and teacher, caretakers. They freely switch between whatever they feel like, whatever the circumstances require. It comes natural for them, because they’ve been doing that for so long. You still have to grow into this new dynamic.”

I could see a war raging behind her beautiful eyes. A massive, earth-shattering conflict and much to my frustration, there was little else I could do. I had tried my darn best to talk some sense into her. And all I had managed was to get this inferno started. Maybe that would be enough. But having put her in this position and not being able to help her cope felt icky nonetheless.

“It is a strange thought, after all these years. ‘Having to grow into something.’ I am not sure when that happened last,” she softly spoke.

There was not much else I could say. And yet despite knowing this, I still could not keep my mouth shut. “I want you to be happy, love. As happy as you can be. And you keep denying yourself options. You leave them unexplored out of fear that something might go awry. But you can’t do that. You’re not allowed to. Because that’s my job.”

Her soft, quiet giggle briefly filled the room, before quickly ebbing away again. “Thank you.”

I smiled and finally picked up the key to levitate it over to my saddlebag. “Well, no problem. I obviously did all this only for the key, you know? And now we have it and we can go and you can pretend this never happened.” The very moment she raised an eyebrow and even faked considering it in earnest, I huffed. “Don’t you dare!”

“But it was your idea!” she teased with a smirk.

“So was talking to Twilight! I will snitch on you if you continue to be unreasonable!” I threatened in jest.

“You would not dare!” she replied with a gasp. “You said you would not!” Her pout was the most adorable thing ever.

I grinned lopsided. “Well, if you don’t make me, I won’t have to!”

We both defiantly held each other’s gaze for a couple of seconds before we broke out in giggles. It took us a minute or two to recompose ourselves before we checked our surroundings one last time. The chamber had not changed in the slightest, no traps had sprung, no trap doors opened. And we already got the key. Maybe some of these trials were… well, it felt wrong calling it ‘easier’. She would most likely have had a difficult time opening up about this to anypony else. Even Luna, I suspected. That was actually quite flattering.

“Sooo it’s still early afternoon, right?” I asked. “Despite feeling a bit drained, this didn’t exactly take all that long. Any ideas on what we do next? I don’t think it’s a good plan to go to the next structure, we should keep it to one per day, I think.”

Celestia mulled a couple of thoughts and ideas over before she ultimately shrugged. “I honestly would not mind returning to our morning activity. It would give me some more time to think.”

I was stumped on what ‘morning activities’ she referred to for a brief moment until I wound my memory back and replayed it in fast forward. We had spent most of our time in bed. I nodded enthusiastically, accompanied by a grin. “I’m all for it. Snuggle time is best time.”

A wave of warmth and light encompassed the two of us and we reappeared on the hill in front of our tent in an instant. There was no sign of change or any intruders, so we headed inside and discarded our saddlebags near the entrance. “Since we’re capable of learning from prior experiences,” I started with a snicker, “I’d say: Snack first, since we skipped lunch. Then we’ll take a nice, cozy bath. You can have some thinking time there. And then we head back down here and make ourselves comfortable. You can have all the thinking time you need, and I… I can appreciate you being here with me.”

“You meant to say: You are going to stare at my flank the entire time,” she accused me with a grin.

“Well, it is quite a shapely rump, how am I not supposed to love it?” I shot back with a smirk.

While I fetched the bag of Allfood from our saddlebags again, she made her way over to the bed. And I could already see how she walked over there, tantalizingly swinging her hip a little more than usual, with her tail occasionally lifted just the tiniest bit. What a tease. I joined her shortly after without commenting on it, but in the privacy of my mind, I indulged a little in the imagination that maybe, we would not just snuggle the entire time.

For now though, we had our little snack. “You know, this stuff isn’t half bad,” I once again noted. “I was thinking about that earlier and wondered if that is because of Luna, or because the castle kitchen is just that damn good.”

“Why not both?” she replied with a smile and nibbled away at her slice. “You could easily test this, of course. Give the recipe to Twilight and see what she does with it. Or Spike. Or Applejack.”

“She would appreciate that apples are part of the recipe, I’m sure,” I replied with a chuckle.

The rest of the day petered out without much fanfare. A little bit of banter while eating helped to recenter ourselves and she was quiet while we took our bath. Once we made it to bed again, I occasionally dozed off. It was a comfortable silence. We enjoyed each other’s company and I liked to think that my presence helped her stay calm while she sorted through her emotional mess. I had hoped that maybe she would have some questions. Some remarks. Anything that would allow me to help her. But she kept quiet and dealt with it herself. We ate another slice or two in the evening and eventually fell asleep, holding each other in a tight embrace once more.

Benevolence

When I woke up the next morning, I quickly realized that I was not the first one to wake up. At some point, when sharing a close relationship, familiarity reached a level where it was possible to tell that just by listening to a partner’s breathing. I knew how it was supposed to sound when she was still asleep. Her breaths were calm, steady and even. But they came just that little bit too fast. I was considering if maybe she had a dream that was riling her up in some way. But as soon as I cracked my eyes open, I found her staring back at me.

“Hey there, beautiful,” I greeted her with a smile.

“Hey there, handsome,” she answered, before leaning in for a nuzzle.

I sighed happily. “You know, with the tent canceling the entire camping- and jungle-experience more or less out and only this remaining… I really could get used to this.”

She agreed with a hum before she slightly shifted to slip a little lower so that we were muzzle to muzzle. “It is… nice.”

I had to hold back for a moment to keep myself from snorting in amusement. That sounded an awful lot like Fluttershy and I could not help but quietly chuckle about the similarity. Instead of explaining what had me so amused, I leaned in and kissed her. And every time I did that, no matter if we were in bed or in the bathtub upstairs or out in the jungle, I considered this to be heaven all over again. However, there were signs that this ‘heaven’ of mine was not without its own issues. It had taken me a while to notice, but eventually, I caught up to those bags under her eyes and worry slowly creeped up on me. “You’ve been awake for a while, haven’t you?”

She sighed, and put on a brave little smile. But I was grateful that she did not try to deny it or hide her tiredness. It was not the end of the world, just a rough night. But it bothered me anyway. “I could not sleep all that well. I think I had a nightmare, or two, but I cannot remember any details.”

I doubted that last part. And I had my suspicions about what had caused this turn of events. But she had made it clear that she did not want to divulge this information and for now at least, I saw no reason to pry. “I’m sorry to hear that. That’s actually kind of my fault, isn’t it? And I definitely should have checked up on you. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head as much as lying down allowed her. “Don’t be silly. You two have more than enough to do as it is and you said it yourself — you cannot play favorites. It is a dangerous game.”

While true, I still felt bad. I still berated myself for not being there for her. For not helping. Not seeing that coming. Knowing what was the right thing to do did not help any issues the heart might take with this ‘right thing’. She knew that and I knew that she knew. There was no reason to say it. So I instead just nestled against her as much as she nestled against me. A few minutes might have passed before we pulled apart again. “What do you think? Breakfast?”

She considered it for a moment and nodded. “Let’s. It might help me get rid of the last remnants.”

Without having to coordinate ourselves, we made our way to the bathroom. I let her go upstairs first while I sorted through our saddlebags and supplies in the meantime. We had used little besides the Neverend bottles and the Allfood so far. Well, we had lost a rope. Somehow. But the firefly lantern she had packed seemed unnecessary so far, as did the compass and the pocket watch.

While she busied herself upstairs, I tried to put something approximating a ‘regular breakfast’ together. The little bedside table was dragged to the lower end of the bed, a few pillows placed on the ground would be sufficient as seating and Rarity’s cupboard even offered some glasses that were not meant for wine. Two plates, a bit of cutlery and a little vase with some greenery I had quickly gathered from outside. Which had meant braving the heat early as I ran down the hill, picked up something that did not look as plain as grass and plucked it before I ran back up.

Exercising before I even had the chance to brush my teeth or splash some water in my face felt weird and strangely exhausting. But! I managed to accomplish my goal. I had even found some candles in Rarity’s cupboard. Nothing I intended to use for breakfast, but maybe a nice touch for dinner.

And the pièce de résistance was a selection of tiny bottles I found while rummaging through the lower drawers. Rarity being very organized meant that they were clearly labeled, for which I was quite grateful. I would otherwise probably not have dared to touch them. Could have been fabric dye for all I knew. The liquids inside certainly were vibrant and colorful enough. But no, those were apparently highly concentrated flavors. Brown for coffee — almost empty. Pink for berry juice. Yellow for lemon juice. White for white tea. A dozen other flavors as well, some had seen more use than others. I suspected that this was yet another acquisition of hers meant to ease some of the burdens of camping. I did not mind drinking plain water. I did that most of the time anyway. But I could see the use in having a choice.

When Celestia came downstairs, I turned around and presented the little arrangement. “Tadaaa. Eh? Eeehhh?”

She examined what I had done before she regarded me with a growing smile. I had hoped my enthusiasm would infect her and judging by the looks of it, it had. “Lovely,” she commented.

I pointed my hoof towards the small bottles currently resting on one side of our seating arrangement. “I think those are flavors meant to spice up water. I didn’t see a ‘chamomile tea’ one, but then again, I didn’t read all the labels yet. Sooo... feel free to choose? I’m heading upstairs now.”

And so we switched places. While I did my routine, I could not help but feel a little pride for my idea and its execution. I did not mind having my meals under more unconventional conditions. When I was at home, things were usually calm and orderly enough to have a ‘regular’ breakfast in the kitchen with the good company of either Spike or Twilight, depending on how long I had slept. But when appointments were called or I had been over in the castle, I sometimes just ate while on the move. I was not all that picky about what I ate or what I drank or how and where and when I did it. But I knew that Celestia, while being very patient and lenient, cherished certain routines. So maybe this would help her feel a little bit like being at home.

When I came back down, she was sitting at the table and waiting for me. And I noticed that both glasses were colored. Hers was white, which did not surprise me at all. Mine, however, was gray. I stopped for a moment, my eyes scanned the room for the bottles and found them sitting on the cupboard. There were no bottles with gray liquid. “Uh…?”

Luckily, she perfectly understood my elaborate and eloquent question. And perfectly played down that faint tint. “Well as it turns out, they do not exactly mix all that well. At least as far as color is concerned. I can assure you that it tastes a lot better than it looks. I tried.”

I chuckled and shrugged. “Alright. I believe you.” I finally sat down on the other side. We were still just eating Allfood, which was not much different from yesterday or the day before that. But the simple change of using cutlery to do it and sitting down on an actual table somehow transformed the entire experience. Small observations like these sometimes baffled me to no end.

After two or three bites of the rather dry food, I finally dared a sip of my gray ooze. And my entire mouth was coated with a chaotic blend of all kinds of fruits. “Oh… oh boy… oh goodness…” I tried to refrain from cursing, as the very intense flavor started to burn into my tongue, my cheeks and my throat. And while my eyes teared up, I looked over to her. I originally wanted to apologize, but that fell flat on its face as soon as I saw her giggle behind a hoof held up to her muzzle. “Oh come on!” I tried to complain, but those words came out as a broken croak. She quickly levitated my Neverend bottle over and I took a couple of desperate, greedy gulps. It washed the intensity down my throat. I was a little concerned for my stomach, but hey — that was a problem for future-Dreamwalker.

“So as it turns out,” she started with mirth all over her face, “these flavors really are highly concentrated and my initial attempts to mix something together were less successful than I had hoped. But it does taste interesting, does it not? For the first couple of seconds, anyway.”

I eyed my glass warily. It was still three quarters full. And I suddenly had a brilliant idea. She had apparently tried it herself. And we were such a close and lovey-dovey couple, were we not? So it would only be fair if we would share in this experience.

I grabbed the glass with my magic and as soon as it levitated even an inch off the table, she backpedaled a little. Sometimes I wondered if she could read minds. But that would not save her. All or nothing, she would drink from this and suffer like I had! I jumped over to her with a mad laugh and she jumped backwards. “Drink!” I commanded and she fled. She giggled like a madmare and dared me to ‘make her’.

At some point, I cleverly managed to jump onto the bed while she tried to get around it and used the momentum to jump onto her next. I had to focus so hard on the stupid glass to keep it afloat, but I managed. If barely. And with us tumbling to the ground in a pile of limbs, it was the perfect opportunity. I brought the glass closer, captured her head with my hooves and kissed her. And with a smirk, forced my tongue between her lips just enough that I could tilt our heads and pour a little bit of the vile stuff in between us. It was obviously a mess, but a few droplets managed to get in. Into her mouth and mine. And just like before, there was an explosion of fruity flavors.

“That… was not fair,” she complained while her coughing and giggling mixed in an erratic rhythm.

“You pranked me, you cheeky old mare! What did you expect!” I shot right back as I chuckled and gasped as well.

She suddenly fell deathly silent and slowly turned her head to me. “Did you just call me… old?”

I knew I was in for some trouble when that spark in her eyes turned dangerous. With a snort and a half-laugh, I didn't even try to resist as her magic overtook the hold of the glass. I just legged it. Or rather, I tried. We had wordlessly agreed to the conditions of our little ‘squabble’ at some point. One limitation was that neither was allowed to head upstairs or leave the tent. Which really did not leave all that much area to flee to, no matter how spacious Rarity’s tent was.

A furious Celestia right behind me, I attempted to distract her by levitating a piece of her plate up and throwing it in her direction. Her delighted giggle was disrupted by an amused snort as she saw the piece fly by. “Oh, you did not!”

She caught up to me quickly. I squealed and writhed around, but her hooves had an iron grip and her wings would not have allowed me to escape even if I had, by some miracle, managed to free myself from her limbs. With a laugh that sometimes effortlessly jumped the fence between maniac and heart-felt mirth, she raised my head up high, craned her neck and kissed me from above. It was a strange position and for a fraction of a second, I was worried about my horn pointing in the direction of her throat, but soon enough, the inevitable came — she pulled back, having kissed me just long enough for me to gasp — and in went the fruity torment.

At least I was glad to see that she took a sip herself, so that I did not have to suffer alone.

I stopped my struggle and leaned against her. And while we both broke out into laughter and coughing time and again, we just sat there in the middle of the room, breathing heavily as we recovered from our little chase, and shared a sip of the awful concoction every now and then. Until finally, the glass was almost empty.

She levitated it in front of my face, so that I could see just that. “Last sip,” she announced. She bravely poured it into her own mouth, and kissed me once more, forcing a part of the vile stuff into mine. It was the best kind of torture I could imagine right now.

We eventually both pulled apart again, coughed a little and washed it down with big gulps of water.

My stomach rumbled in displeasure. My throat burned, both from breathing and the burning sensation of that concoction. And my cheeks ached from laughing and grinning too much. “That was awful,” I gave my final verdict.

She giggled and nodded. “I agree.”

But we had made the best of it anyway.

We returned to our breakfast table and I picked up the piece of Allfood I had thrown at her earlier and discarded it outside. Some birds or mice or something might enjoy it. We continued our meal, and I poured myself a glass of plain water. And I was very satisfied with that. Celestia meanwhile explained what exactly had happened. She was not all that familiar with artificial flavoring and had not anticipated it being this strong. Generous as she was, she usually thought of others before thinking of herself, so my glass was the first one she tried to get ready. And she apparently used too much of the stuff. She kept it with the prank in mind and was a lot more cautious with her own. Which I was allowed to taste test, and while the flavor was still strong, it was a lot better than her first try. “So basically… you need like, half a drop or something. You know, considering that… this stuff might have been meant for entire buckets of water or something. Or bottles, at least.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “But I could not find a dropper and I doubt a spoon would have been any better.”

Another mystery I could solve after my eventual return home.

Once we were done with breakfast, we put the pillows and table back to their original places. I was confused for a moment about our saddlebags lying to the left of the entrance when I had thought I had placed them on the right side, but it would not have been the first time I remembered something incorrectly. We put them back on and prepared for another excursion.

While I did become accustomed to the jungle to some degree, that did not make the journey any less grueling. It basically only meant that my brain would shut off sooner. Step after step. Careful with the vines. Do not stumble. Drink water occasionally. Take a break and catch your breath. Those activities did not require higher brain functions. Just the evaluation of sensory input on the basest of levels. There was a small mercy to be found in this development: It made time seem to move faster. I did not talk throughout the trek. At all. Since I was not really thinking. Since I was not really there. But once we arrived at our next destination, Celestia sidled up to me and nudged me with the tip of her wing. “We’re here.”

It was… it felt like a wake-up call. I blinked a couple of times and reoriented myself. I could hardly remember any details of the past couple of hours. A green blur of vegetation. No incidents as far as I could tell. “Sorry, I, uh… zoned out…”

A small, forgiving smile graced her lips. “Do not worry. You are merely dealing with the circumstances as best as you can and I am not holding that against you. However, seeing as you struggle so much, I do have to wonder. Why do you insist on us walking to these structures? I could have brought us here by teleporting. Or even flight.”

I looked at the ruin ahead of us. It was still a good hundred feet away, so few details could be made out. Just splotches of stone visible in the green wall. I took another gulp of water while I collected my thoughts. “See, I’m… I’m not a fan of the jungle. I know that now. I don’t like it here. That’s not much of a surprise, but… you know? It was worth a shot anyway? It could have surprised me, right? And now I know. I know for sure. Because I tried it and it didn’t work. It’s probably silly, I don’t know. We already shortened this ‘adventure’ considerably. You said so yourself. We teleported to our campsite. That’s, like… what? One week of travel? Two? Three? Just done. In the blink of an eye. Now, I’m not all that keen on being stuck in a train for days on end. And we had certain limitations to work with. Getting you out of Canterlot for a week was hard enough. Well actually no, that was surprisingly easy. But I suspect it would have been considerably harder had I been talking about… I don’t know, three weeks, or something like that. Or two months. That would have been an entirely different story, right? And then we arrived and I have this tent with me. It’s great. I love it. I will rave about it to Rarity at any and all opportunities I will get in the coming months, maybe years. It’s a great tent and it makes our lives so much easier out here and I’m grateful. But let’s be honest — living in it? That’s not camping. That’s more like… living in the middle of Ponyville, with a little bit less convenience. And less neighbors, I guess. And I have organized these bottles. So we don’t have to drink from random creeks and ponds. Do you know what breeds in those things? The water could be spoiled. It could make you sick. Poison you even. Maybe. And food, too! We got this stuff from Luna and it’s great. Well, I guess I’m going to be sick of it by the end of the week, but that’s okay. We don’t have to dig for roots or collect berries or whatever. We have so many conveniences with us that it barely counts as camping at all. It’s already, like, the ‘light version’ of an adventure. Rainbow would see us here and what we have and what we do and she would laugh her ass off. Applejack as well. Although I suspect she would be kindlier about it. Point is, I feel like we should do this? I mean, we have been teleporting back every time. We walk out here, do our thing and you teleport us back to camp. That’s just another shortcut we take. And I’m fine with that? But at some point, I feel like there should be a limit. To what we can cancel and shortcut and avoid. At some point, it would not feel like an adventure anymore, right? It would not be one. I’m honestly not sure if we are doing this right. If I’m doing this right. It is my first time, after all. Mistakes are unavoidable, I suppose. And I don’t feel like I’m getting anything out of this. I don’t really spend time with you when I’m marching through the thicket. The edges dull and my eyes glaze over and my head just shuts down, I guess. It’s not exactly quality time I spent with the love of my life. But the thought of cutting that out as well just feels wrong, somehow? Like, I should endure this, at least. To make it a proper adventure, or something. We’re doing really well so far. We already have two locations down. Three more to go. That leaves us with two days before the week’s over, and I was thinking… it seems a tad unfair, in retrospect. It’s our first vacation together. I should have asked you. I mean, you agreed to this, I suppose, but then again, I didn’t ask you. Maybe once we’re done, we can teleport back home and I hoof the reins over to you? And you get to decide what we do for a few days? I think I’d like that.”

I could not pinpoint the precise point at which I had started rambling. But once again, I just could not stop myself once I was going. And she just stood there, a small, understanding smile tugging at her lips, and listened. She apparently saw no reason to stop me at any point. I instead eventually ran out of fuel. Maybe I would have started again after taking a deep breath or three, but that short break was enough for her to spring into action. She leaned down and nuzzled my cheek. Despite the jungle heat and her body heat and my general sweating, it was a gesture I appreciated a lot. Her scent, her being this close. It soothed me. “I think I understand,” she said with the same, patient smile, “and I am not questioning you or your decisions. I was merely curious about the choice. I want you to know that I could have said anything, at any point, were I not in agreement with your choices or decisions. And I would have done so too. I am a little bit too old to be shy about voicing my own opinions and preferences.” She winked at me and I chuckled quietly. I was not allowed to call her old without suffering dire consequences. But if she did it, that was something else entirely, of course. “As for those last days — let us continue here and now, first. While I am inclined to plan ahead by nature, the unknown of this adventure was a part of why I agreed to it. It is exciting. I do not require a lot of thrill and excitement in my life, to be honest. That is more my sister’s part. But every now and then, it can spice things up a little.”

I took another sip from my bottle and nodded. “Alright. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. And… thank you. For being patient with me.”

She shook her head, accompanied by a smile, but refrained from correcting me. “Shall we take a look at today’s test of our emotional stability?”

I grimaced a little. “Eh. You know, I would really appreciate it if it weren’t about that. Can’t they just test how quickly I can lift a rock? Preferably without pointing dart guns at me if I’m too slow?”

“Well, you did say all of this is part of some kind of trial — I do not suspect they were testing their physically strongest, judging by those first two challenges.”

She had a point, of course. The first one had been all about teamwork. And a sense of balance and jumping, I mentally added with a shrug. The second one was about being honest. I had to chuckle a little as the thought occurred: Maybe this was just their version of a training facility, not dissimilar to the fields in Canterlot where I had undergone my night guard training. Work together, do not lie. With that in mind, I grew more curious about today’s lesson. “Alright. Let’s go.”

With this being the third structure we visited, I started to get a feeling for their architecture. They really loved their dome-shaped parts and they really loved their long corridors to connect them. This third structure was a two-chamber system. One dome served as the entrance and a long hallway connected it to a second one. Both domes were relatively small, similar to the one we had visited yesterday. Which implied that maybe, they would feature simpler or smaller tasks, or maybe even none at all.

The stone was once again covered in greenery but otherwise undamaged. Time seemed to fruitlessly gnaw at it, only breaking its teeth. Maybe the stone really was enchanted. We walked around the entire thing once to take a look for details. We searched for any clues or signs of damage and to get an impression of its dimensions before we returned to the entrance and stepped in. And just like before, it was considerably cooler inside. I wiped a hoof over my brow to get rid of some of the sweat. The chamber was even smaller than it had looked on the outside. And more importantly, it was completely empty. No pedestal in the middle, no statues or trapdoors, nothing. Just a few wide and flat stairs leading into a very suspicious hallway.

The hallway was divided in the middle by a thin wall. A wall consisting of mirrors. Or rather: A mirror. The entire length of the wall was a single, long mirror. And more such mirrors covered the outer walls. They were, as far as my eyes could tell, immaculate. Little lanterns hang from the ceiling and as soon as we stepped even a single hoof on the first stair, all of them lit up in a warm and welcoming light. With the hallway being divided into two narrower hallways and both of them having mirrors on either side, the lanterns caused some pretty effects. Like the walls were sparkling and twinkling. Even after we stepped back into the entrance dome, the lanterns stayed lit. “What do you think?” Celestia asked with a playful smile.

I wanted to be a bit miffed for a moment. She looked like she had already figured it all out again and she asked me like I was one of her students and she needed to carefully guide me to some grand revelation. But that all fell apart as her earlier words rang in my mind like an echo. So far, these challenges had asked a lot of us. More than I had initially been prepared for. But she? She had seen things I could not imagine. Lived through ages so far removed that no memories of them existed anymore, besides in the heads of those immortals. Almost dying. Sacrificing herself. Having to open up about something embarrassing or troubling. In the great scheme of things, what did those things really mean to her?

Maybe I was downplaying things too much. After all, she did have nightmares because of the recent events. Maybe it really was just the thrill of the unknown getting to her, exciting her. I sighed and mustered a smile. One that grew more genuine with every moment I saw her smile in return. “Well. It doesn’t look suspicious at all, does it now? Something will happen as soon as we step a single hoof in there, I bet. And judging by our previous trials and the existence of two corridors, I think they want us to split up. I don’t see any difference between the left side and right side, so… pick your poison?”

“Right,” she chose and we switched places.

I had no idea why it mattered, why she did not just stick to the side she already stood before. And I was not even sure if she knew. “Alright. The hallway is long, but we should be able to still hear each other. So if something goes awry, just yell and I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Maybe I should not have played up the protector as much. After all, she was the sun-commanding magical alicorn-powerhouse. But it felt right to say it in the moment. Not all situations could be solved with fire and magic after all.

We both stood before our respective entrances. I tried to mentally fortify myself for whatever might happen next. Tried to reign my already rising anxiety in. “Ah, buck it,” I murmured and quickly trotted over to her to steal another kiss for myself. “For good luck,” I whispered with a grin and went back. She smiled and remained silent. “Right, let’s do this.” We stepped down the stairs and into the hallway.

And nothing happened.

“Huh. Anything on your side?” I asked.

“Nothing so far,” came the reply.

I carefully tapped the mirrors. “Maybe this thing is broken after all?”

“I can see the key up ahead,” she said.

I furrowed my brow and craned my neck, stretching my head as high up as I could manage. And indeed, on the other side of the long hallway, a similar flight of stairs went up again into another small, dome-shaped room. With a stone pedestal in the middle and a flat stone bowl containing a key. “Well. That was easy. We should probably stay alert, though.”

The impulse was there. To move at a brisker pace. To just canter down the length of this corridor and sprint up the stairs, grab the thing and teleport back out. But I highly doubted that we were done already. Sure, two examples were not exactly the largest sample size, but so far, all the structures had been intact enough to still fulfill their function.

And my caution indeed proved to be well-founded once I stepped past the halfway mark. The mirrors suddenly changed. They no longer displayed what a mirror was meant to display. A strange, black mist instead seemed to crawl out from the reflection’s floor, and quickly oozed from those mirrors onto the actual one. “Something’s happening,” I half-yelled as I tried not to panic. “Some kind of mist.”

The mist quickly rose higher and higher. I could not feel it. At all. No dampness on my legs, no prickling sensation, no numbness indicating some kind of contact poison, nothing. But after a couple of seconds, the lack of a reply frightened me more than anything else. “Celestia?” Nothing. “Love?”

The mist coalesced into something more tangible. It whirled and stretched and swallowed the lantern's light, until the floor and ceiling itself seemed to fall away. I could still feel firm ground beneath my hooves, but with an inky void below me, I dared not to move. The same darkness surrounded me on all sides now. The hallway was gone. Completely swallowed. No entrance, no exit, no keys.

And then I saw a light.

“… what?”

It was a single one at first. Absolutely tiny. But in this endless darkness, it shone as bright as a sun. It was quickly joined by another, and then another. With increasing speed, more and more lights flashed into being, until a wave of them washed over the void and painted it in the beautiful night sky I loved and knew.

“… that’s impossible,” I whispered in disbelief.

I was standing in the dreamscape.

My body was still my own. I could feel the slowly drying sweat on my leg with which I had wiped my brow earlier. I could still feel the jungle’s heat that I radiated into the colder surrounding. I heard my blood rush, felt my heart pump in anticipation of something. Either the transition into sleep had been utterly flawless in a way I knew even Luna was not capable of, or I had actually physically entered the dreamscape.

I tried to force my will into reality. I tried to manifest something small. An apple. But nothing happened. And despite this plane looking right, it did not quite feel right. So maybe this was not the dreamscape after all? Or maybe it just was not my dreamscape.

How much magic was required to break down the walls between worlds?

“Love?” I heard a vaguely familiar voice behind me. “What a pitiful notion.”

Despite my resolution not to move, I whirled around to face my opponent. And I had been sure that this would be some sort of fight, as I could hear that sneer drip off those words. My determination quickly faltered however, as I saw just what my opponent was. Who it was.

“No…” I whispered as my eyes widened. Tremors crawled up my legs and froze them in place. A splitting headache threatened to overwhelm my senses. I felt like choking as the flash almost made my knees buckle. And other lifetimes granted me a name for that pony.

Daybreaker.

Celestia gone wrong.

The revelation was crippling. Paralyzing. I knew her. The implications of this simple fact were so utterly horrifying. Celestia, with all the powers she wielded, with all that might, fallen to corruption. Limitless. Reckless. Merciless. It meant so much. Said so much about the state of that world I knew her from. But as usual, my flashes provided me with barely enough insight to pin a name to a face. I did not remember how she had come to be. What she and I were to each other. Enemies? Lovers? Certainly not friends. Daybreaker had no friends. Cared not for friends. Knew no friendship.

And I felt a seemingly bottomless well of sorrow and grief open up.

I knew her. And I had wept for her. So many days and nights. I had failed her.

My memories quickly became a spider’s web. I was caught in it, stuck, and I struggled. And the more I struggled to free my head, the more it clung to me, further crippled me. I did not see it coming, but Daybreakers first strike sent me flying. A powerful hoof struck the side of my head. More than the impact rattling my bones and thoughts, I felt the intense heat of the sun itself burn through the hair of my coat and into my skin. For as short as the contact was, I could feel it.

“You are nothing,” she snarled in a cold hatred that made my blood freeze. “Just another body on the pile.”

With harsh but measured steps, she walked over to me. I tried to manifest my armor at least. But the dreamscape still refused to comply. How was she here? Was she just another dreamscape creature? A nightmare that had taken on the memories of… of who exactly? I had only remembered her after seeing her.

I did not understand what was going on. Where I was. Who or what she was. I just understood that my life was in danger. That much was easy enough to tell. Every point at which she raised her hoof off the ground left a small flame behind. Her mane and tail were ablaze. A raging inferno. Wicked, slitted eyes full of cold anger. A forked tongue darted out between sharpened teeth. Her regalia glowed from the heat of her body alone, it almost melted. She would kill me. Without hesitating. Without thinking twice. And knowing what power she wielded… what sense was there in fighting?

Soon enough, she loomed over me. A hoof came crashing down on my neck and pinned me to the floor. I could feel the heat burn my coat again. It was not enough to make me scream. But it hurt. She lowered her head. “Pathetic.” And she charged her horn. Light and fire, more and more energy collecting in a sphere the size of a pin. It would be quick. A disintegration, more or less.

And I still felt such anguish over her fate.

“Sunny,” I managed to croak out.

It broke her concentration. The sphere of annihilation vanished, dissipated. And for just a second, her slitted eyes widened. In surprise. Shock. Maybe fear. I could not tell. She recoiled from me before once more firmly planting her hooves on the ground. “I have not heard that name for a long time. Who are you? How dare you?!”

I felt it more than I knew it. Standing up would be a death-warrant. A sign of defiance swiftly leading to her crushing said resistance utterly. So I instead just shifted slightly. I rolled onto my stomach, sat down and faced her. And I could not keep my pity out of my face. “What in the world happened to you?”

“What happened to me? What happened to me?!” She screeched like a fury. She reared up and brought her hooves down. A wave of light and heat raced away. It was uncomfortable, blinding, but at least it did not truly hurt. “Are you blind, fool? Are you deaf? A dimwitted oaf, perhaps?” she yelled.

I instinctively raised a hoof in her direction. Somewhere in there, I hoped… I liked to believe. Somewhere in there was my Celestia. My Sunny. And while my mind raced and spun and produced more and more horror scenarios, it only now occurred to me that these magic mirrors might have actually changed my Sunny into this creature. Filling a pony with immeasurable despair — a surefire way to create a nightmare creature — was so much easier than tearing down walls between realities.

I had to get her back.

But that cold anger in her eyes was genuine. And although I saw a flicker of something that was neither hatred nor anger, I dared not to press my luck too much and let my hoof sink again. She had reacted to that name once. I hoped it would help me again. “I don’t understand. What happened, Sunny?”

She snorted in frustration and shook her head as if to get rid of a pesky fly. “They abandoned me!” she yelled and her anger flared up once more. “I cared for them! I had helped them! I made them what they were! And they dared to fear her! They dared to touch her! She could have struck them down, any and all of them, and she should have! But she had grown soft and weak and she let them—… she let them…” Her voice broke. Memories flared to life behind her eyes. Torturing her. Letting her relive some horrible moment of her past. Something that broke her. She violently shook her head once more. Steam rose from her face where tears quickly evaporated. “And when I came down on those fools like vengeance incarnate, when I brought justice to their traitorous hides, they dared to turn on me! Me!”

Day and night were concepts. Fundamental parts of how the world worked. They could not be destroyed without first destroying reality itself. But a concept did not need a body of flesh and blood, per se. A concept could exist without being part of the world it helped to form.

How little that mattered in the face of love. And sanity.

A dead Luna. Disembodied, as Celestia had called it once when she spoke about what exactly she had done to Discord. She would of course come back eventually. But after one thousand years of suffering, of loneliness… how long would it take? How long would she have to remain alone this time?

Yes. I could see that breaking her. Easily. The mere prospect of it.

And did I not somehow understand the nature of loneliness myself? Maybe not to its full extent. Maybe not in the same way she did. She, who had lost her mind because of it.

I felt tears stream down my face. I touched a hoof to them in surprise. Daybreaker seemed just as confused. And alarmed, as I struggled to get up. “I’m sorry,” I quietly said, barely above a whisper. Yet with the dead silence all around us, it was heard. “I’m sorry I failed you.” I slowly walked towards her. Maybe she would strike me down. A single, focused beam of sunlight would burn me to ashes quicker than I could realize what was happening. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most.”

“Stay back!” she bellowed and retreated half a step. She clearly was not used to doing that.

Had she not told me? I cannot lose you, my love's voice echoed in my head. A thousand years of loneliness. If she clung to me like that. Enough to make this stupid choice. How much worse would it be with her beloved little sister? “I’m sorry it all went this far,” I continued. She took another step back. It did little. Soon enough, I was standing right in front of her. She still towered over me. Her eyes were less slitted than they had been initially. A good sign, maybe. But her mane and tail were still pure, eternal fire. Worse than a flame, worse than dragon fire. A manifestation of the concept of fire itself. It greedily devoured everything it came into contact with.

“I’m sorry I failed you,” I repeated and tried to smile despite the guilt wracking me and the pain I felt seeing her like this. “Give me another chance,” I asked. I pleaded with her. Begged her. “I’ll stay with you. No matter what.” And with that, I leaned in. She tried to retreat again, but I caught her with a hoof and pulled her forward. She could have flung me across this void with little effort if she truly had wanted to.

And I hugged her.

I hugged her so tightly as if my life depended on it. And who knew — maybe it did.

She tensed up and stayed motionless. “What are you doing?!” she hissed. But her voice had lost that sharp edge that made me fear for my life.

Her body was incredibly hot, painfully so. I tried to stay away from her regalia. That glowing piece of metal mere inches away from me. “I will keep you company. So you don’t have to be alone,” I replied as if that would explain everything she needed to know.

“And you would stay with me, through waves of bloody murder and tyranny?” she asked with a derisive snort. “You would stay when I force the curse of immortality down your throat? When empires crumble and the whole world burns to ash, slag and cinder?”

The implications of her power gone rogue weighed heavily on my mind. I had a name for this face. This grimace, disfigured, maimed by loss and grief and anger. Her world sounded like a dismal affair. With only more loneliness feeding her insanity. At the end of all things… something tiny and insignificant… would maybe be enough to make all the difference.

There was no hesitation when I nodded. “I would. I will not leave you.” And she would not allow for her mistake to ever repeat itself. A dead world of fire and dust. No chance of anything happening, ever. Maybe I would go insane as well. Eventually. I did not dare to think about that.

“Then you are a fool,” she replied. But her voice had changed ever so slightly. Instead of the sharpened edge from the beginning, I now heard the faint ghost of a softer side. Something buried so incredibly deep down. But no matter how deep it was buried, it was only important that it was there.

“I know,” I answered. And I wondered about the strange echo I heard. It sounded like my own voice, but slightly distorted. Colder. The void around us knew no bounds, no walls or floors. Where had this echo even come from?

Before I could make heads or tails of this, I heard Daybreaker sigh. It was a brief sound. One of defeat, in a way. Of acceptance. “At least you are my fool,” she said.

A massive crack startled me. I pulled back, frantically looked around and saw myriads of mirror shards fall to the floor. I felt dazed. I turned and wanted to ask Daybreaker if she knew what was happening. But she was gone. I sat in the middle of a hallway I had problems recognizing. Long, immaculate mirrors broke and shattered to both sides while lanterns overhead spent their light, uncaring for all the events. How had I gotten here?

At the other side was a chamber with a strange column in the middle. Some sort of pedestal, with a stone bowl on top. It looked familiar.

But before I could sort through the slowly lifting haze, the wall a few feet ahead started to glow and then melted away. At which point did stone melt?

Celestia stepped through the hole once it was large enough. Patches of molten rock clung to her wings and she flicked them aside without much care. She frantically looked around until she spotted me and rushed over.

Celestia. I had a name for that beautiful face. But it was distorted in grief and anger. No. Neither of those. Concern. Concern and relief.

I blinked. She pulled me into a tight embrace, sparing no word. And her scent was so incredibly familiar and welcome and soothing. I let it lull me in. And memories slowly freed themselves from this haze’s grasp. “I thought I had lost you,” I whispered into her coat. I could still feel the streaks on my cheeks, the trails tears had left behind. New or old, I could not tell. I did not care. I was just glad to have her back. “Luna is fine,” I whispered as insistently as I could. “Luna is fine.” And so was she. And so were we. And so was this world.

And yet I trembled.

I knew Daybreaker now. I remembered her. She had been real. Was real. Somewhere out there. It had become a terrifying reality, knowing what my serenely calm, patient and tender love could become. “Luna is fine,” I whispered once more.

She eventually pushed me back a little. Just enough to take a closer look at me.

“You have burns,” she said with a slight tremble in her voice. I could feel them now that she had mentioned their existence. The right side of my face glowed. It was mildly painful. Needles pricking my skin. “I hugged her,” I said. She carefully tilted my head. I knew why. There was a more severe burn on the side of my neck.

“That does not look like hugging,” she replied, but she did not dare to touch the burnt skin.

I was not about to tell her that she had stepped on my neck, moments away from pushing down and breaking it. I instead refocused my attention as best as I could. I inspected her for signs of struggle. And they were easy enough to spot. Parts of her coat were burnt as well. Just in a different manner. Little patches of hair clung together, forming small spikes. Frozen solid in ice. Several little patches here and there. A story formed. A familiar one. A fight. Kicks and punches. Some connected. A struggle. And finally, a breakdown. A hug to offer comfort. The hoofprints gracing her were considerably smaller than the one on my neck.

Who had she encountered over there?

“We need to get back to camp,” she broke my chain of thoughts. “These wounds must be cleaned, disinfected and treated.”

I numbly nodded. From this distance away, I managed to pull the key out of the bowl and drag it across the floor until it was close enough to properly levitate it over to us. I opened up my saddlebag and let it drop in without a second thought. As soon as the saddlebag was closed again, she teleported us straight out of the corridor, straight into the tent.

“Sit down on the bed, please. I will be right back.”

I did as she asked. Everything somehow still felt a little bit surreal. I didn't even notice a couple of minutes passing by before she came back, prepared with a bowl of water. It smelled like… something. Something was in there. Maybe some kind of disinfectant? I tried to make myself less useless by levitating the first aid kit out from our supply pile. Soon enough, she carefully dabbed the burned sections with a washcloth. “Doesn’t that hurt?” I asked, unable to tear my eyes off of her freezer burns.

She sighed. “It does. But only slightly and we can take care of that once I am done.”

It confused me to no end. Alicorns were tough, were they not? A sword was not able to slice their skin open. Poison was ineffective. How did she have freezer burns?

But I tried to be patient. I kept my mouth shut and waited for her to finish her work. She seemed very efficient at it. Probably had to stitch Luna together more than enough times when they were younger. I had to smile at that image in my head. A small filly Luna jumped and ran around. She had a great adventure in her little world until she scraped her knee or something. And her loving, caring big sister was there for her. She tended to her needs, dried her tears. And put a bandaid over her scrape.

I hissed a little when she put some sort of tincture on the wound on my neck. It burned. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” I quickly replied. “Seeing how much I will have to care for after this, I don’t think you would appreciate me saying ‘sorry’ twelve times or so…” She did not protest further. She instead finished up her work with a balm over the lesser burns and a bandage around my neck. I hated that feeling. There was a reason I rather caught a cold in winter than to wear a scarf. But oh well. Nurse’s orders.

We eventually switched places.

She had come out worse. And I was a lot less experienced in administering first aid. I emptied and refilled the water bowl, got a different washcloth and started to do my best with the occasional question for guidance or little helpful comment from her. It took time. A lot. And at the end, I applied the same balm to her that she had smeared across my face. And neck. And parts of my chest. At least it did not smell like anything at all.

Only after I was done did I take a curious look at the balm’s can. White, unlabeled. “What is this stuff anyway?” I asked.

She looked over and noticed what I held. “It is specifically designed to help treat burn wounds. The castle kitchen staff developed it. The formula is good enough that we stock hospitals with it, even though it is a little bit pricey.”

I did not dare to ask for a number. I had no idea why exactly she had packed this. But I was very, very grateful she had done so. I could barely feel my own burns anymore. And the can was almost empty now. “We don’t have enough for a second application, I think.”

She nodded. “I know. We should not need one, hopefully. By tomorrow, the minor burns should be good and the larger ones… well, they should at least be considerably better. We should have enough to treat those again.”

I looked into the can again and was less sure about that than her. Which made it a lot easier to decide that I would treat her first and whatever else was left could be smeared across my neck.

After we had sufficiently cared for our wounds, we resorted to doing something simple. We laid down on the bed, side by side on our backs — after all, the balm still needed time to work its magic. Literally. And it would be less than ideal if we were to rub it all over the pillows and blankets.

“Sooo… somehow, I did not expect us to actually get wounded. Strange, isn’t it?” I started quietly. And it was, was it not? We had talked about it. A lot, actually. Big cats. Leeches. Rat-sized mosquitoes. Heck, tripping over a vine could lead to some nasty wounds as well. Something as simple as that could break a leg. Literally. Or a skull or neck, depending on how unlucky somepony really was. But even when sticking to the realm of more likely possibilities, there was a lot. First challenge — a bunch of pits. Falling down was a real threat. How had barely any of this ever felt like a ‘real’ threat?

For the first time ever, I felt like I could almost understand Moondancer’s warning. That I was getting way in over my head for something as ‘mundane’ as a Hearth’s Warming present. But it felt like we had already crossed the point of no return. This had become an issue of the sunk cost fallacy. I had made the decision and was too stubborn to think about it again. To revert it. Something like that mindset could just as easily break a leg.

“Was Luna in danger?” she asked after a while. She was still calm. Collected. But her worry was evident nonetheless. “I had forgotten to ask this morning.”

I lifted my head off the pillow, just enough so that I could turn to the side and kiss her cheek without distributing the balm all over the place. “She wasn’t. She’s still in Canterlot and her reign of endless night and tyranny has begun. Those nobles stuck to their guns and told other nobles, and they marched into Court as well, demanding stuff. She kindly showed them the exit. She’s apparently considering raising one of her aides to nobility. Because she had less than twenty-four hours and managed to find some sort of tax law hole or whatever that allowed Luna to shoot straight back. ‘We would technically owe you this much, but according to this thing, you owe us this much — why don’t we forget about this, eh?’ Something along those lines. So… yeah, she’s handling herself well, I think.”

I smiled when I heard her sigh in relief. “Thank you.” We fell silent for a while. Until she broke it once more. “I could hear you, I think. At the end. There was a strange…”

“Like an echo,” I cut in and saw her nod. “Yeah. I could hear you too. I still don’t… I don’t quite understand what that was.”

“Who did you meet?” she asked again.

I considered not answering for a moment. I was pretty sure she already knew. That hoof print burned into my neck was her size. Exactly. And there were not exactly many ponies with a frame as large as hers. Adding to that, the notes in the book could have name-dropped her. And maybe she had simply felt it. The same way I felt that she had encountered some darker, lost version of myself. But she was unwilling to engage in my idle musings about the nature of this test and instead dug deeper and deeper, driven by her curiosity. She would not let me not answer. “You know already,” I suspected.

“I think I do,” she replied without hesitation. “But I need to hear it.”

I sighed. It was strange. She was a mare. Thousands of years old. The embodiment of something fundamental to this world. I was neither of those and there were enough other differences setting us apart and yet somehow, I sometimes felt like we were eerily similar. A name would have been sufficient for her. But that way, I would leave up to her own mind what she did with that name. And I was not willing to take that risk. “Her name is Daybreaker. In her world, ponies never learned to accept Luna after her return. They continued to fear her and eventually… fear led to action. Luna didn’t defend herself. I don’t know how, but they… they killed her. And then you killed them. And everything spiraled out of control quickly. It wasn’t just the loss and the grief that broke her. Luna cannot be truly killed. She would come back, eventually.”

“It is the waiting that wears you down,” she replied with a neutral, carefully measured voice.

I sighed. “Please don’t do this, love. You are not her.”

“But I could be,” she replied, still calm and steady.

“But you won’t be,” I insisted. In that last millennium, how many times did she think about this? How many times did she think about giving up control. Giving in to the most petty urges. Letting her anger lash out. Letting her grief and desperation win. How many times had she thought about this scenario in which the true force of her power was unleashed on an unsuspecting world?

This time, she tilted her head to look at me. “And how would you know? Because you will make sure of that? How, exactly? And what of the time when you will not be—“ She cut herself off. She took a deep breath, and looked back up at the ceiling.

It hurt to see her like this. “I will die someday, yes. One way or another. As all of your previous spouses have. And I’m pretty sure they would tell you the same. You have a good heart, love. That doesn’t mean you’re incorruptible. It doesn’t mean you can’t fall. But there will always be others to pick you back up when you can’t do it yourself. You just have to trust them. There is still Cadance. And Twilight. And when it really comes down to it, you could still give yourself a timeout. And wait for whatever changes might happen to pass. I’m not saying you should. All I’m saying is that… you have a choice. You will always have a choice.”

She remained silent for a while before once again tilting her head to look at me. There was a great uncertainty in her eyes that she did not even attempt to hide. “Would you really have stayed with me? Even in that form? In a barren world? Even when I would have forced you to endure it until the end of time with me?”

The implications were harsh. I had no hope of grasping what eternity was like. I could only go with my gut. And that actually made me smile with tender love and dedication. And no room to spare for doubt for once. “I would.” I leaned over and kissed her. And she accepted it. “I’m not exactly happy with your preferred temperature, to be honest, I'm more of a winter-guy,” I immediately after started to jest. “Like… eternal summer? Really? That’s the harshest form of ‘you will sleep on the couch tonight’ that I have ever heard of. But alright, fine. I’ll deal with it. At least I can then make all the ‘my wife is so incredibly hot’-jokes.”

I coaxed an honest smile out of her. And that was enough.

“Do you want to know about him?” she asked me a while later.

I had honestly hoped we had managed to move past this topic. Maybe I had underestimated something. Or overestimated? Either way, I was not entirely sure how to answer that question. It was not every day one got the chance to learn something about one’s own nightmare version. “Has all the chill in the world while simultaneously daring to lay a hoof on you? Nah. I think I’m good. I know all I need to know, I think.”

She watched me, I could feel it. For a solid minute or two, she just watched me. “You know it is not that simple.”

I sighed. “I know. Well, on some level I do. I try not to think about it too much. He hurt you. And I despise him for that. Which means I’m very angry with myself, in a way. Old hat, you know? It’s just… it doesn’t bring anything new to the table. Not really. The more I think about the entire scenario, the more I come to the conclusion that none of it was real. It was just what you had said earlier. A test of emotional stability, or something like that. You are not Daybreaker. I know that she exists. Somewhere. But this is this world and her world is not this one and there’s a clear line separating the two. I’m not even sure if it is even possible to cross that line. Point is, I’m not… whatever he called himself. I’m not him. Maybe he exists somewhere, too. I don’t care. I don’t want to care. And I don’t want to know, actually. Maybe that brands me as ignorant. But I have enough flaws and fears to deal with. I don’t want to have to study my own fallen version to see all the ways in which I, as a pony, could go horribly, horribly wrong. I think I have a decently solid grasp on how that might happen already, without knowing anything about him. And just as it was with Daybreaker, I also like to think that I know how to prevent him from ever existing in this world. And you know what? I have a couple of very good friends and three incredible mares helping me with that. One of which is lying right beside me, right now. And that she’s there makes me happy. Just because she’s there. And I don’t think you can truly fall to the darkness within you if you can still feel happy. Not satisfied. Not content. But happy.”

She shifted, sat up in bed and looked down to me. A playful smile graced her lips. “You can be so sappy sometimes,” she teased and a second later leaned down and… blew a raspberry. On my belly.

I instantly tried to get away from her, with limbs flailing wildly, while I could not stop laughing. I tried to reprimand her for her actions, but not a single word had any chance of successfully passing through my throat as she continued her assault. Powerful hooves grabbed me and pulled me back down as I had managed to wriggle myself a few inches away, towards the bed’s edge. And she effortlessly pinned me under herself and showed no mercy at all. Even as I tried to beg, she continued.

I was not sure what made her stop. But eventually, she stopped. I took deep, hungry breaths and tried to compose myself. As I was slowly regaining my senses, I looked up at her with a wide grin and she replied in kind, still looming over me. She leaned down again after a moment. I gasped when I felt the tip of one of her wings lazily trail down my stomach. “Want me to make you happy?” she huskily asked.

Still unable to properly work with words again, I just bit down on my lower lip and vigorously nodded. Yes please!

It was late at night when I woke up again. My neck felt sore and I could feel the skin strain. Having sex while having burns might not have been the smartest idea, but I was not about to regret anything. I looked over to my side and smiled as I watched her sleep for a moment.

A stray thought brought with it a random idea. Which, as everypony knew, were always the best and should be followed up on without second thought. So I sneakily managed to extricate myself from her embrace without waking her up and equally quietly climbed out of bed. I used my newfound freedom to look around, but the darkness made that considerably more difficult.

It mostly took time. Moving in the dark with the intention of staying silent mostly meant moving at a snail’s pace, which I did not really mind all that much. I carried the bedside table out of the tent and searched for a decent spot to put it down. It only wobbled a little bit, but that was the best spot I could find. Next up, I brought the pillows out and placed them down. Rarity would have killed me on the spot and I was decently sure that right now, back home in Ponyville, she had a vile shudder run down her spine without knowing why. Her precious, beautiful pillows, placed on dirt. Well, placed on burned wood and ashes, actually. So much better. I then fetched some glasses, some plates, some cutlery and continued to build a little dinner, if admittedly a very late one. An outdoor dinner under the starry night sky.

And with a candle in the vase, the arrangement was done and I finally snuck up to the bed and softly placed a hoof on her shoulder. “Hey, sleepyhead.” She blinked a couple of times before she realized that it was dark. “I have a surprise for you.” She had to have lowered the sun at some point, of course. But I knew that she could do that half-asleep if need be.

“It’s the middle of the night?” she replied but sat up anyway and rubbed her eyes.

“I know, I know,” I tried to mollify her. “Thing is, we’ve been falling asleep waaay too early. We probably would have woken up in the middle of the night anyway.”

As soon as she exited the bed and looked awake enough — as far as I could tell without light —, I started to guide her outside. I stepped up to her side as soon as we were out and while she enjoyed the sights and sounds, I enjoyed her reaction to both.

The marvelous night sky above us painted the inky void with patterns and clusters of brightly twinkling stars. Out here in the middle of nowhere, it was even more impressive than back in Canterlot or even Ponyville, where even a single candle meant some sort of light pollution.

Down the hill to the sides was the jungle. The pale starlight painted it in softer hues and made the shadows between trees grow even darker. And all around the edges, even smaller, yellowish lights blinked. Swarms of fireflies. They were just about everywhere in the jungle, it seemed.

And I had honestly considered leaving it at that. Dragging a blanket out here, sitting down with her and just enjoying the sights. And sounds, admittedly, as the cacophony that reigned in the jungle throughout the day had transformed into something less hectic and chaotic sounding. I had no idea what kind of birds made those sounds, but their singing was beautiful. Still a little mixed up, seeing as so many were singing from so many directions, but still a lot better than it was throughout the day.

I had gone slightly overboard of course. As usual. And with a flick of my horn, I scratched a piece of flint across and ignited the candle in the middle of the table. I had even managed to scavenge a tablecloth. Our seating arrangement was ready to go and I had even prepared the dinner itself a little. Allfood was all good and well, but a little variety did not hurt. A single slice was waiting on the plate, next to a small bowl standing in the middle of each plate. Empty, for now. A pot sat to the side, on the still warm remnants of a small fire. I had taken four slices and drenched them in enough water to hopefully produce something akin to a stew.

Maybe I should have taste-tested that. Then again, that stuff was made from vegetables and starch. It should have worked. It probably worked. Yeah, it’ll be fine.

And finally, I had tried my hoof at a proper mixture of water and flavoring as well. I had not found a dropper either and I had no idea how Rarity usually dealt with this, but I had used a spoon. A small spoon. And half a dozen tries. Per glass.

Before I lit the candle, the night sky was the first thing to capture her attention. She had seen it like this many times before, I was sure. And yet there was still wonder in her eyes. A deep satisfaction. Appreciation for her sister’s beautiful work. She eventually noticed the many fireflies dancing around at the foot of the hill with a smile. And with the candle lit, she took in my preparations. “How long have you been out here?” she dared to ask.

“You don’t want to know,” I replied with a subdued chuckle. I honestly was not quite sure myself. And it was my personal way of saying ‘I don’t wish to answer that’. “Feeling hungry?”

“We did skip dinner,” she replied, which was as much of an answer as I had expected.

I just grinned and ushered her to her seat before I took mine. “Stew?”

“We have stew? Please tell me you did not just—“ she started, furrowing her brow.

“Nope,” I cut in. “I’m not going to risk poisoning us by just throwing random greenery from the jungle into a pot, boiling it for a while and praying that it was enough.” Well at least she had the decency to blush a little as she apparently had suspected me to be that foolish. “We’re sticking to Luna’s rations. I just added water. Lots and lots of water.”

“In that case — yes please.” And she levitated her bowl over.

I raised the lid and put a first ladle in her bowl. I quickly realized that what I had assumed would be stew was more like… a puree. “Oh wow. Just how much water does this stuff soak up, sheesh…”

We both giggled a little as I filled her bowl, then mine, and fell silent as we ate. I took my time to marvel at the night sky every now and then. And eventually, our food was gone. “All filled up?” I asked.

“To the gills,” she replied with a smile.

“Well, I love to hear that. And if you wait for a second, I can make this even better.” While she watched curiously, I unfolded the blanked and put it down next to the table. “Tadaaa. Would my love care to join me for some mild stargazing and maybe some fooling around?”

She rose from her pillow, moved over ,settled down next to me and pulled me against her side with a wing. “She would love to. Although I am not sure about the latter, as she might still feel a little sore from earlier and quite full after such a decadent meal.”

I kissed a little trail on her neck, accompanied by a happy sigh. “Ah, that’s quite alright. I just like to keep options open, if possible.” And thus, we fell into a companionable silence as we watched the pretty display above our heads. And due to the recent forest fire, there were not even that many insects attempting to bother me. We sat there for maybe an hour, maybe two — it was hard to tell. She would occasionally point out a formation and tell a little story about it. I would do the same, although all of my stories were made up on the spot — I was no Twilight after all. She did not mind and seemed quite entertained, which really had been the goal anyway.

And later that night, we got a good reason to question if maybe Luna somehow knew. We witnessed a small star shower. Seven shooting stars streaking across the sky. That was worth seven wishes in theory. I just had one: Let all be happy. It was once again sappy as hell. Rainbow would have gagged. Rightfully so, maybe. It had been the best I could come up with quickly. But then again, there was not all that much I desired anyway.

With the shooting stars being the obvious high point of the night, we decided it was time to retreat back inside. We quickly packed up all the stuff I had previously dragged outside and put them near the entrance once we were back inside. I would have to at least attempt to clean them in the daylight.

And soon enough, we went back to bed.

Selflessness

I woke up with a snort. My eyes quickly danced across the room as I tried to secure my position and indeed: I was safe. That moon-butted menace was nowhere to be seen. In her stead, I found Celestia lying beside me as she watched me with a curious and mildly amused expression.

“… what?” I asked as I felt the heat rise into my cheeks.

Her smile grew wider. “Had fun?”

I flushed even more. “S-She tickled me!” I tried to defend myself against accusations that had not even been leveled yet.

The moment I accused her beloved little sister of any wrongdoing was the moment her smile froze and she slowly sat up. Higher and higher did she loom over me, her smile broke apart and fell away piece by piece, until displeased and harsh eyes looked down upon me. “And you seem to believe that just because you managed to escape her, you are free now?”

I gulped. “Y-Yes…?”

She came down with such fierce speed that the only thing I managed to do was press my eyes shut tightly and brace for impact. In that moment, I was certain that she would continue the relentless onslaught I had just barely escaped in the dreamscape. No tickle attack came though. I did not feel her lips brush against my coat or even her body radiating heat. I barely even heard her breathing. After a couple of seconds, I dared to crack an eye open.

We were muzzle to muzzle and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes was all I needed to know. A soft smile graced her lips and with the faintest of touches, she put the ghost of a kiss on my nose. “Good morning, love,” she greeted me. Her voice was so tender and full of love. She would not torture me.

I raised my head to get myself another kiss, but her playfulness returned and she kept herself just out of reach, despite my attempts to capture her. As I started to pout, she stifled a giggle and finally gave in. I raised my hoof along her neck and pulled her down to me with a happy sigh. I did not mind sharing the comfy, warm bed for a few minutes more and judging by her shuffling to make herself more comfortable again, neither did she.

“I take it Luna has managed to deal with the nobles, then?” she asked a while later, her head resting on my chest, her eyes closed.

She merely enjoyed the closeness. My hoof stroked lazily along her neck and through her ethereal, billowing mane. “She was holding out yesterday. But you know her better than I do, she’s a fighter. She went fully in on the offense today. Apparently Fancy Pants is now a freelance Royal Advisor or something. Luna had some correspondence with Twilight, probably slightly panicky, and that seems to have been the result. I think she’ll be fine. Told you she would be.”

Celestia hummed appreciatively as I once again stroked her neck. “Hmmm, yes, you did mention something like that. You put a lot of faith in her.”

I thought about that for a moment. Inspected the notion like some alien artifact. After some consideration, I shrugged and nodded. “I have faith in all of you.” It was not just limited to Luna. And the statement felt true. That was enough for me. More than enough, as I enjoyed that smile tugging at her lips.

We had to get up eventually of course. And after a few more minutes, it became quite apparent what would finally make me take action. I had a full bladder. Admittedly one of the more annoying reasons to get out of bed, but it worked nonetheless. As soon as I excused myself, the spell of this morning was broken and we both started to fall back into other routines. I went to the bathroom, made myself more presentable and when I returned downstairs, Celestia was nowhere to be seen. So I went outside and found her using the assortment of blankets and furniture I had used for our late night dinner to present a more appealing looking breakfast setting. I sat down on my pillow with a smile and looked at the selection on the small table.

A slice of Allfood, of course. A solid foundation for an annoying trek through the jungle. But at this point, it held the same appeal as drinking plain water. It was there, it was nice, it was perfectly serviceable, and it was kind of boring.

I was surprised then to find more than just Allfood in different shapes, forms and sizes. “Are those tomatoes?”

Celestia sat down across the table and smiled with unbridled pride. “Yes. Yes, they are.”

And three bananas. And a single orange. “What the heck. Where did you get this stuff?” She vaguely gestured towards the jungle surrounding us on all sides. “Huh. You must have—“ I cut myself off and thought about this. Yes. She must have been awake for quite some time. Scavenging for these fruits. But for some reason, I had kind of forgotten that she had to get up each and every morning to raise the sun. She apparently had just returned to bed afterwards. But this morning was different. Different — why?

Maybe I had been complaining too much. We had been eating Allfood for what? Two days? That was not so bad, was it? But my enjoyment of the stuff had declined rapidly. Not that I despised it, far from it. But it was a little plain to a tongue that was used to Spike’s cooking, especially.

Or maybe my attempt to work with the stuff had inspired her. Allfood-stew had been a bit of a bust, but the mere act of trying to be creative with it might have sparked some ideas in her?

Whatever the case may have been, I was just glad to see some variety. “It looks delicious. So… let’s dig in?”

She beamed at me as if that had been the nicest thing she had heard all week. Which made me chuckle for a second. “Let’s!” she eagerly replied, and went straight for one of the bananas.

Not to be left behind, I took the second one. They tasted funny. Obviously like bananas, but not quite like the stuff one could buy on a market on occasion. “You know, this isn’t half bad,” I remarked and eyed the third one. “Do you want to share that one?”

She thought about it before shaking her head. “Take it.”

Yet I had seen her enjoy the change of flavor greatly. As much as I did. So without a word or second thought, I took the third banana, cut it in half and levitated one over to her plate. She smiled and took it without a word. But that look she shot me was worth a thousand words. I grinned and busied myself with a slice of Allfood. Fruit was all nice and good. Got a little sugar into the system, great for an early start — Pinkie approved. But to prepare for a trek of some hours through thick vegetation, one needed more than just a quick jumpstart.

“You know, I thought I was going to clean this mess up this morning,” I mused and looked at the pillows we were sitting on, “but I’m not so sure that would be the wisest thing to do anymore. Eating outside is kind of nice. I mean, it’s getting uncomfortably warm now, but we’re kind of late with breakfast anyway. What do you think? Clean-up when we break down camp?”

Just to show off a little, she stretched her wings to their full, quite impressive span. And as it turned out, that was enough to provide some at this point much needed shade for me. She could not keep this up forever, of course. But for a few minutes, that would be enough. And it was a nice gesture. “That does sound lovely,” she replied. “I like this setup as well. But I think it would be wise to continue putting everything back inside after every meal, since we cannot know for certain when it will rain.”

I nodded. “Fair point.”

After we were done with breakfast, we packed things up again and moved them back inside, as agreed upon. “Right, one thing we need to do before we head out,” I started as she already levitated her saddlebags over. She put them back down and turned to me with a questioning look. To answer, I levitated the balm up. “Be a good filly and sit down.”

For some reason, the comment caught her so off-guard that she snorted and continued to giggle. But she was a good filly. And she sat down. I quickly got to work and applied the balm to her remaining freezer burns. I did not know what this stuff contained. But it worked wonders. I had barely felt my own burns all morning and I had a hard time spotting any lasting signs of them in the reflection. After just one day. However, the few patches where the wounds were more severe were a different story. That one spot on my neck twinged a little on occasion, depending on how I turned and tilted my head. Craning my neck actually did hurt. And I imagined Celestia’s wounds were similar to that. Just with the difference that she had a couple more of them, they were smaller and all over her chest.

I was careful in applying the stuff since I did not intend to cause her pain. And I was quite generous with it as well. That is, until she brought her horn to life and took over my hold of the can. “That will be enough,” she proclaimed. Her voice made quite clear that I was better off not arguing. “Now be a good colt and sit.”

I remembered her earlier giggling and had to chuckle myself while I sat down. “Yes, ma’am.”

She took a single look into the can and sighed in mild annoyance before carefully taking a little of the balm of her own patches. Much to my dismay, but again — I could already tell that arguing about that would be futile. So I instead complained to myself and waited until she was done slathering the cooling balm on my neck.

And with that, all of the stuff was gone. No reason to carry an empty can too, so we left it behind on the nearby cupboard. “You know, I found something interesting in Rarity’s stash,” I said as we both rose. “She doesn’t keep a lot of spices around, but she does have these two pottery jars. As far as I can tell, they are salt and pepper shakers. Maybe we can use a bit of that to spice up today’s dinner. And speaking of dinner, our saddlebags are basically almost empty, right? So maybe we can keep our eyes peeled in the jungle and try to find some more food? That orange really was delicious…”

“I could go for some more tomatoes,” she replied with a sly smile.

“It’s settled then. I’ll, uh, try not to zone out too much.” With our bellies filled and our course of action agreed upon, we grabbed our saddlebags and were on our way.

We searched the jungle while making what at least felt like good progress for once, but there was little to be found. Or rather: Everything was a green mess, and it was hard to spot something in it. To be fair, yellow and red should have been a lot more noticeable, but we found neither more bananas, nor more tomatoes. In the end, we went the whole way without getting a single piece of fruit into our saddlebags. “Say, what you had gathered this morning, how long did it take you to find all that?” Three bananas, a bunch of tomatoes and a single orange might not seem all that much. But hours later, feeling hot and sweaty and exhausted, my eyes burning from strain and my head spinning slightly, I was ready to give up on the prospect of a more varied diet.

Celestia sighed, which already announced wordlessly that her answer would not exactly instill me with confidence. “I got up to raise the sun and I returned to bed only half an hour before you woke up.”

So several hours in between. On one hoof, it made me appreciate the work she had been willing to put in all the more. On the other hoof, it made me question her sanity and the apparently vast extent of her boredom. Was I bored enough to search the jungle for hours before finding two or three pieces of something I could both recognize and digest? Then again, that scenario did not seem quite as bothersome when I gave it a little twist: I was searching for hours on end to present her with a treat. To make her smile.

That would be worth it.

I sighed and moved on. I raised my head once more and almost stumbled on a root as I could not believe what I was seeing. “Uh… love? Sunny? What are those?”

She grabbed a piece hanging high above us from a tree and pulled it down with her telekinesis. A couple of seconds later, the thing was floating before my eyes. “That is an avocado,” she announced.

“A… a what now?” It was pear-shaped, but with a rough, dark brown skin. She turned it a little and I noticed a greenish tint to the skin. And after a moment, she opened the thing up. The flesh next to the skin carried the green tint over into the fruit itself, but faded out to an almost beige the closer it got to the center, where a single seed rested, the size of an eyeball.

“Try it,” she encouraged me while she pulled the seed free and dropped it to the ground. Non-edible, I assumed.

I took a bite and quickly learned two things. First off, the exterior tasted awful. The skin was just unappealing in flavor, while at the same time hard to describe. The interior however was quite delightful. “Hmm… that’s good. Really good.” I raised my head and scanned the canopy above us. There were dozens of these things hanging around up there. Almost all of them in that one tree, it seemed. A more well-versed botanist could probably have told me that the other trees were different kinds of trees or that they were the same but did not have any fruit yet because of seasonal cycles or something. For me, the only important thing was how much space we had in our saddlebags. “Is there any reason not to take as many as we can carry?” I asked. I was already thinking about options. Salt and pepper seemed to be just about the only spices we had, but that could already do wonders. And the texture might be a good addition to another attempt at Allfood stew.

“I do not believe there is,” she answered. We gave each other curt nods before we grabbed more and more and quickly filled our saddlebags to the brim. If we actually would not find anything else, we would at least have this.

I had not quite accounted for the saddlebags being a lot heavier now, but we were almost at our destination anyway. A few hundred yards of jungle with the added burden was bearable.

We reached the outer edge of the next structure and I could not help but laugh. Not because of the structure — that seemed to be just another dome-shaped stone ruin. But because of the vegetation surrounding the clearing in which the structure was placed. I saw a lot more avocados. A lot. A bunch of oranges. Some bananas, although they did not appear to be ripe enough yet. Some mangos. A few vines growing tomatoes. And I even spotted a pineapple. Well, several, but one that seemed ripe.

The placement of these trees, vines and bushes was suspicious, though. Everything seemed clustered. Almost arranged, like a garden that had not been cared for in ages. Maybe this had been some kind of plantation a long time ago.

Celestia sidled up to me when she exited the jungle a little bit later than I did and followed my gaze. She was probably curious what had me so ‘amused’. As soon as she noticed, she smiled. Her more restrained reaction was something I should have expected and yet I found myself sighing and shaking my head. “Right. Anyway. We, uh… you can teleport here, right? If we want to get some of this stuff?”

She took the scenery in once more and nodded. “That should be easy enough, yes. I could even fly here, although that would take a little longer.”

“Good, good. Alright. I mean, we have a pantry of sorts now, I guess.” And I quite liked that idea. “I guess we shouldn’t take all the avocados into the trials, though. Let’s put them inside, next to the entrance, and take a look at today’s offering, shall we?” I noticed how her eyes trailed down my neck and came to a rest at the remaining burned patch. She said nothing and agreed with a nod, but I could feel her tense up a little. So I stepped as close to her as our bulging saddlebags would allow and sent a smile her way. “Don’t worry. I like to believe that yesterday was a rare exception. The other two were… well, not exactly harmless, but you know what I mean. It’s a test, right? Not a deathtrap.”

It did not instill a lot of confidence in her. But at least it was enough that she attempted a smile in return. “We will just have to be more careful.”

I was not sure if ‘being careful’ would be enough. We had been plenty careful so far and it had done little for us. But I nodded anyway, if only just to ease her worries a little.

We entered the structure and once again found ourselves confronted with an almost entirely empty room. No statues, no carvings or paintings, no nothing. Just the by now familiar looking pedestal in the middle, with a flat stone bowl on top. And a key lying in it, ready to be grabbed. We put down our saddlebags next to the entrance and walked around the small circular room, inspecting nooks and crannies without hoping to find much. We were not disappointed in that regard — we found nothing.

A minute or two later, we both stood in front of the pedestal, side by side. “Well. That’s totally unsuspicious. We’ll just grab that key and be off, right?”

She picked up on my attempt at humor and mustered her own shaky smile, accompanied by a sigh. “Right.”

“Nooothing’s going to happen once I pick that up,” I said and nodded. “Nothing at all.” I shot her a look. Celestia readied herself for whatever would happen next as best as she could and only after she signaled her readiness did I attempt to pick it up. As soon as my magic touched the key, something drilled into my head.

I dunked my head into the small creek. I had to be careful not to drink from it. Not to let any of it get into my mouth or nose. But it was the best I could do to keep the heatstroke at bay. For a solid minute or so, I kept my mouth shut, held my breath and just hoped that the trickle of water would cool my head enough to make it for a few more hours.

I raised my head out of the warm water, back into the crushing heat of the jungle. And I immediately wrinkled my nose. The stench was overwhelming.

“Usable?” Celestia asked me. She stood somewhere behind me.

Despite better knowledge, I sighed. It was a waste of breath. And we had to conserve our energy. And water. And everything else. “No. Compass?” We had not been fortunate for days. The water was spoiled or rotten or poisoned. Every creek, every river. And with no means to make a fire, we could not boil it. Then again, we did not know what made it foul to begin with. Maybe boiling it would not even do anything.

She stepped closer to me and showed me the compass. The needle was still helplessly spinning in all directions, quivering a little in one, before turning wildly again. I looked up at her. My love was still beautiful. Despite the grime, the dust, the sweat. We both looked worse for wear. And I still grimaced, like I did every time, when I saw her bandaged wing. That had been one heck of a tumble. On one hoof, I was glad that so many branches had been in the way to slow down her fall. I was not sure if she would have survived otherwise. On the other hoof, a pegasus with a broken wing was basically an earth pony without magic. But she kept her spirits high. Somehow.

We had enough food and water left for one day. With no signs of anything other than more jungle.

After we had become lost searching for that stupid trial site, we had tried, of course. We had tried to find our way back to camp, but to no avail. It was as if the jungle had swallowed it whole. Or maybe it had just swallowed us. Celestia had attempted to rise above the canopy once. And she had seen the jungle endlessly stretch in all directions. Before something hit her. Just remembering her yell made my hair stand on end. I had tried to catch her, but with her velocity…

Despite the jungle’s unforgiving heat, I stepped up to her and embraced her. Just a moment, but I had to. She wordlessly accepted it. We were both sticky. Sweaty. Goodness, we could use a bath. But for a brief moment, I reveled in her being here with me.

Once I pulled back, we both attempted a reassuring smile to bolster the morale of the other. At the same time no less, which made us grin for a moment. I nodded in one direction and she agreed with a nod of her own. And we moved on.

Our pace had become somewhat sluggish. We had been careful about rationing our supplies from the start. We were two smart ponies, after all. As soon as we realized our situation, we bit the bullet and used as little as possible. ‘One day worth of water’, under the given conditions, meant ‘just about enough to keep the heatstroke off for a day’. Our throats were tight and dry. Thirst was a constant companion. We had long since crossed the line of hunger. That point where our stomachs just shut up and stopped growling all the time, realizing that we were in a dire situation and no food would be forthcoming anytime soon. It was miserable.

Less food, less water, more heat, more walking. Our reserves slowly drained away. And deep down, we probably both knew: The jungle would outlast us. There would be jungle for another day. And probably another week, but… that one day more was all it would take to kill us.

I regretted coming out to this forsaken place. Even more so, I regretted dragging her into this. And I could not even remember why we were here anyway. Maybe a side effect of my brain slowly getting cooked.

We stumbled our way through more greenery for another hour or two when Celestia suddenly put her good wing up to signal ‘hold’. I stopped immediately. She slowly angled her wing to point in the direction of a massive tree. It was not all that different from the other ones surrounding us, but a thick carpet of moss and vines hung from its trunk and… now I could see it.

I saw some colors other than brown and green. Gold, maybe. But it seemed like whatever it was, it was in a small alcove beneath the tree. Barely more than a hole in the dirt, but with a nice, lush curtain. We slowly closed in on the position. A quick, shared glance to make sure the other one was ready and she pulled the curtain back.

Much to both our surprises, there was a pony in there. His eyes were closed and the rustle of the curtain did not wake him. We both slipped inside, even though it was rather crammed now, and inspected our find closer. A middle-aged earth pony stallion. Gray-brown coat, dark gray mane with some brighter stripes. A golden skull as a cutie mark, with a ruby filling one of the eye sockets. He wore a vest, but it was badly damaged. Singed in several places, torn in others. All the pockets were empty. He wore a neckerchief. No saddlebags, no tools or other gear, nothing. And despite us prodding him a couple of times, he did not wake up.

We both realized why though.

His breathing was flat. His heart was thumping away, heavy and strained. He was in no better shape than we were. Out of food. Out of shelter. Most importantly, out of water. And a couple of burns on his back.

I could see it in Celestia’s eyes. She recognized him as much as I did. Though to be fair, I had never expected to stumble into one of A. K. Yearling’s Daring Do-novels. But she had always had a penchant for dragging real life into her adventure stories.

Before us lay doctor Caballeron. Once a proud and acknowledged member of the Royal Society of Archeology. I only knew about him what Daring Do knew, or rather what A. K. Yearling had written about him. Meaning I had no idea what made him go rogue. But at some point, he did. He left Canterlot. Left the esteemed social circles he was used to and built up a life as a looter. Always hunting for the next treasure, frequently crossing paths with Daring Do. From the occurrences in the books — the ones I could remember —, he seemed like a stallion one should be wary around. He was not evil, per se. But he was a self-serving opportunist.

Which presented quite a predicament for us.

He would die here.

As would we.

I sighed. I would have liked to pretend for a little while longer that there was a choice to be made here, but in truth… there was not. I looked at Sunny and waited for her to come to her own conclusion. Once her expression finally settled into determination, I loosened my saddlebag, put it on the ground and opened it up. Out came the one Neverend bottle that did not quite live up to its name anymore, and the few scraps of Allfood we had left. She did the same, revealing the small can of balm.

Neither of us hesitated a second to apply the balm to his wounds while he was still unconscious. We had no use for it anymore anyway. And it would at least ease his pain. We had considered eating the stuff, but a quick taste test had been quite convincing to never try that again. This way, it could do some good, at least.

But that left the matter of our other supplies.

The jungle was dense. We could see the final tree line any time. Or never. The edge of the jungle could be right there. It could be. And with what little we had left, we could make it. Maybe.

Maybe.

But he would not.

To conserve breath and moisture, we refrained from actually talking. We instead tried to convey what we needed to make clear by just gesturing and intense staring. Despite starting with a similar opinion, it took us some time to come to an agreement. We mostly disagreed on how to proceed with our supplies. Sunny wanted to share, yes — but she wanted to keep some for us as well.

I saw no use in that anymore. I had not given up on life just yet, mind. But when we started to think about dividing the half of a pea in half, it became ridiculous. He was worse off than we were right now. I sighed and cited an old song I had dug up from the Archives a year or so ago. “What appears as mine, 'tis thine as well.”

She was not happy with my choice. But she ultimately relented. I suspected that she was just preserving energy and tried not to fight about something that would most likely not make much of a difference anyway. So I took the bottle, carefully tilted his head and gave him little gulps to drink. With the last drops of water the bottle had to offer, he opened his green eyes.

He seemed shocked to see other ponies at first. Then he tried to sit up. I gestured for him to be careful, but he did not notice it. He looked around and quickly spotted the little pieces of Allfood. I traced his glance and invited him to eat with another gesture.

What little we had left was gone. Everything was gone.

In a strange way, it felt like a relief. I had expected despair, but I found it easier to breathe instead.

“Why?” he asked with a dry, raspy voice. “Do you even know who I am?”

I nodded. “An honor to meet you, doctor,” I croaked.

He stared in disbelief for a moment before he sighed. “Are you just after an autograph or something? Because I fear I might have lost my pen.”

I ignored the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “We didn’t know you were here. You had luck. See my pegasus friend over there? She spotted you. Without her, you’d be dead.”

He shuddered a little at my blunt words. But he was armed with sarcasm and I saw no reason to sugarcoat anything. He was a villain, after all. But even if we would die out here in the jungle — we would die as honest and good ponies. And despite his failings, he was one of us. Heck, even that would not have mattered much. He could have been a dragon or a griffon for all I cared. It would have made no difference.

“I was… visiting an old sacrificial site,” he started to explain. I honestly did not care all that much, but I was not about to stop him either. After all — maybe there was something useful in his report. And I saw no reason to call his obvious lies. We both knew what he did for a living, no matter what he deigned to call it. “With a few… associates of mine. We weren’t aware of Ahuizotl and his minions guarding the site. They busted our camp that evening, scattered us into the jungle. I got separated. They chased me for days. I had some close calls.” Only now did he seem to notice that we had cared for his burns. He looked in my direction. “Did you—…?”

Again, I redirected his attention outside. “She did most of the work. You really should thank her.”

He nodded. “I will. Thank you, too.” I shrugged and gestured for him to continue. “Not much else to tell. Some of the great cats he commands can be quite fierce with their sharp teeth and vicious claws, but it’s the little ones you have to look out for. One of them apparently breathes fire. Somehow. There’s some weird cats in this region. Anyway, I quickly burned through all of my supplies just to get here. And seeing as you don’t have anything left yourself, I’m not sure we’re going to make it.” I nodded with a serenity that still gave me the chills. “Listen, the jungle edge is less than a day from here.” And suddenly, he had my rapt attention. My ears swiveled around, my eyes shot straight up and I almost glared at him. But he just held up a hoof in front of himself, almost defensively, and nodded. “It’s true. I managed to reach a clearing less than a day ago. I still had my map at that point. It should be that way.” He pointed it out.

Less than one day.

We had rations for one day.

I sighed, yet I still felt no remorse. No regret. “Thank you. Guess we should get moving then. It’s not going to get any better here.” I stood up and slowly moved towards the exit.

“You should. I hope you kids make it.”

I was surprised to suddenly find him smiling wryly once I slowly turned back and furrowed my brow. “When I said ‘we’, I meant ‘the both of us, and you’,” I clarified. Apparently, that had not been obvious?

But his smile persisted. He tried to stand up and his leg gave in at the same moment a painful hiss escaped his throat. I hurried to catch him and managed to do that just in time. “I think my ankle might be broken,” he explained. “I’m not going to make it.”

Neither Sunny nor I had noticed that additional injury. But then again, we were both battling thirst, hunger, heat and exhaustion. Adding to that, even given this information — of what use was it? We were out of everything. No bandages, no wonder-balm or other medicine. “Sit down,” I ordered him and went outside. Sunny stood nearby. I stepped up to her side and she quietly sighed. “You heard,” I assumed.

A curt nod confirmed as much. “We committed to this,” she replied with an almost mournful tinge in her voice. “Thus we should try.”

Despite the desolation of our situation, I found it surprisingly easy to smile. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, love.”

“I will be with you to the end,” she said.

Yet despite how her dedication warmed my heart, her fatalism was something I was not willing to endure. Not now. “Good to know. I’ll remind you of that in a few decades, when we are both old and grumpy and gray and shriveled.”

She smiled this time. And I captured her lips for another, more proper kiss.

We both turned and went inside the small dirt hole to retrieve our new comrade. We took a solid few minutes to figure out how to best do this. It was clear without trying that none of us was in any condition to carry him. However, if we walked slower — even slower than we already were —, then one of us could support him. The good doctor would lean against his support and this way, he would not have to use his injured leg.

‘Less than a day’ suddenly seemed like quite a lot.

We slowly got moving again with Sunny quickly scouting ahead of us. Her injured wing and his injured leg made them incompatible. Which meant I was support. All the way through to the end. Ahhh well…

“We still have to look out for those pesky felines,” the doctor said. Much to my dismay, as he was wasting energy, breath and moisture. “They won’t give up as long as we’re still within the jungle!”

Then again, having a heads-up did not hurt. I was just stumped on what to do with it. Besides hoping it would not gain any relevance. But that was a futile wish, as it turned out. Because of course it did. What did Applejack say in situations like these? Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

It started with a feline yell and growl. Two very distinct sounds from two very distinct directions. They were clearly communicating with each other, coordinating their efforts. And I gleaned from the recurring sounds that they were closing in fast. “Sunnyyy, help!” I yelled despite my painful throat reminding me why I kept my mouth shut most of the time. She came back from the front, we quickly exchanged a couple of glances before she nodded and fell back to cover our retreat.

I could already see the exit. The tree line. The edge of the jungle. There was blue. A vibrant, enticing, welcoming sky blue between the trees. We were close, so close.

And then I heard Sunny scream. It was a throttled sound, between surprise and pain. I stopped immediately and frantically looked behind us, scanning the jungle for any signs of her white coat, her feathers, her magenta eyes, anything.

“Listen, boy,” Caballeron said, “I’m very grateful for all that you two have done for me. But you gave everything you had. I can’t ask for more and I won't. Go get her and get out of here. I’m sure I can buy you some time! They want me after all.”

Pressure. It was all I could feel. A vast energy trying to worm its way to a vent, any vent. I felt myself shift. Forward, backward, any direction. Pick. Choose!

I could not see Sunny. She had screamed. She had screamed.

I squinted and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm myself down at least a little bit. Keeping a cool head under these circumstances was impossible. And quite an ironic expression to boot.

“She’s fast,” I told myself. “She’s experienced and fast. And we committed.” I turned back around, grabbed hold of Caballeron and moved as fast as I could. “Move your lazy ass, doc!”

She’s fast, I repeated in my head, She’s fast.

Please be fast, love.

He tried to protest. And I kicked his leg for it. He yelled in pain and despite everything, my satisfaction outweighed my bad conscience. He shut up and moved and he did not try to protest again.

And goodness gracious, I could not put into words the relief I felt when Sunny stormed up to my side. “Poison darts!” she warned despite her dry throat. Her voice sounded strained. From pain. I could see a small little projectile protruding from her wing. She must have tried to shield herself with it now that it was less useful than ever before.

We tried to hurry as fast as we could, but we were not quite fast enough to escape without one final onslaught. Caballeron had been right. We had given all we could. Our medicine. Our food. Our water. Our time and effort, our strength. I was not sure if we were willing to give our lives for him. Ideally we would not have to, obviously. But two more darts plunged into Sunny’s wing. This time, she knew what she had to expect. She did not scream. But that prolonged whimper of hers broke my heart nonetheless. And soon enough, I felt it myself. A couple of darts hit my rump. Searing, scorching pain went down my back legs and made them buckle. It took me tremendous effort to keep moving. To keep them steady. To even continue standing. We hobbled along as fast as we could and I could already tell that it was only a matter of time before my legs would give out.

The pain surged upwards, along my spine. My front legs started to feel tingly, before becoming numb. Sunny mewled behind us as she caught another couple of darts with her wing.

And then the air suddenly shifted.

My vision had become blurry as the pain pushed tears into my eyes. I had stumbled more than once and every time my heartbeat surged for a second in sheer panic. I knew that if I were to fall now, this was over. I would not get back up again in time.

But the air shifted.

And we stepped out.

Even despite my blurry vision, I could see such a hard line that it was frankly ridiculous. The jungle just ended and a neatly trimmed lawn started. The air was considerably cooler, fresh. Not nearly as humid. And not a single tree far and wide.

I fell to the ground with a whimper and cared little about Caballeron’s hiss of pain. And with all the energy I could muster, I grabbed Sunny in my telekinesis and pulled her out of that forsaken green wall. Right next to me. And without thinking at all, I quickly rolled onto my belly, pulled her wing out with my magic and blindly nosed through her feathers. The poison on those darts tasted bitter and vile, but I plucked every single one out of her wing as fast as I could, hoping that it would make any difference.

We stood in the dome-shaped structure. Dazed. Both of us were very much dazed.

I slowly tilted my head and dared to look around. The room was circular. And aside from our bulging saddlebags next to the entrance and the pedestal in the middle, it was empty. And my memories quickly rushed back to me. We had bananas for breakfast. That seemed like it had been days, nay, weeks ago…

“I’m starting to hate this place,” I announced. My throat felt incredibly dry. I walked over to my saddlebags on rather wobbly legs and rummaged around in them until I found one of our Neverend bottles. They were full. I took a deep, long gulp before levitating it over to Celestia. She slowly turned and took the bottle to drink a good deal herself.

“I can understand why,” she replied with a carefully measured voice. She slowly extended her wing. The one that had been hit by eight darts. Eight that I had been able to find, at least. “I can still feel it,” she whispered.

The same way I still felt the heat, or the hunger, or the thirst. Or the burning ache in my back legs. “Me too,” I replied. A part of me was very grateful that this room was empty. The pedestal was a part of the floor. Kicking that over would take tremendous strength. The stone bowl on top was probably movable, but a less desirable target. My impulse to destroy this room had nothing of value to aim at. I briefly considered asking Celestia. She could redirect the full force of the sun and burn this entire dome to little more than slag. I had seen that happen before. I knew it was a possibility.

But this place was ancient. A relic of a long-forgotten history. And yet despite that, these trials were still intact. The enchantments still worked. It would be a shame to damage anything. At least that was what my more scholarly side said. Until a sudden, loud crack startled me and I witnessed the stone pedestal fly across the room and shatter on impact with the dome’s wall.

Celestia slowly stroked her back legs with her wings. And I could not help but grin. “Feeling better?” I dared to ask.

She furrowed her brow and regarded her handiwork. The pedestal was utterly broken. “A little,” she answered. And for just a moment, I felt like I could see her. Sol Invictus. The Unyielding Light. The force so many had rightfully feared many, many years ago. When Celestia entered a battlefield, it was a grim day.

I did not know for certain how heavy that stone pillar had been. My best guestimate was ‘very’. And she kicked it with ease. Sent it flying. There was a small hole in the ground where the floor tiles had given way. And a grim satisfaction surged through me when I cast yet another glance at the broken pillar.

Serves you right.

“Do we want—“ I started.

A bright yellow flash and we stood in front of our tent.

“… to head back?” I finished and chuckled a little. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” I was about to enter the tent when I stopped and grimaced. “Shoot. I forgot to pick up the key.” Celestia smiled however. Her usual, serene smile. The one I did not like very much. And one that given the circumstances unsettled me a little right now. She levitated the key over and I stored it away in my saddlebag. “Sunny? Are you alright?”

She stopped and sighed. “I… I am not sure,” she admitted. “I will freely admit that this trial has not been the worst we have been through. And yet I feel very conflicted about the ease with which this enchantment trapped me and made me think of myself as a pegasus.”

That was a point I had not considered all that much yet. After that first challenge, we had both taken a few hours to calm down and sort through what had happened. And I had to admit at least to myself: I had not even considered what had troubled her at that time. As an alicorn, she was powerful. As the entity Celestia, not bound by flesh and bone, she was even more powerful. And yet these trials forced her to play along.

“To be fair, we can hardly say how easy it is for these enchantments to work,” I weakly objected and walked over to her. “But I understand that that won’t be much of a help. If you feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to take these challenges with me.”

It was a stupid offer. One brought up in good faith and with good intentions, but stupid nonetheless. One not fully thought through. Or thought about at all. It became apparent even to me as soon as I had spoken. But before I could apologize for this idiocy, she softly shook her head. “Do not apologize. However… while I have not made my decision yet, I feel I must ask you something.”

“Everything,” I quickly answered.

That at least got her to smile a little. “If I were to ask you to quit this endeavor and come back home with me — would you?”

I sat down on my haunches, despite the unrelenting afternoon sun burning my pelt to a crisp. And I regarded her for a short while. She wore her mask, unwilling to let me gauge her emotional state right now. And I had to remind myself yet again what all this was for.

A Hearth’s Warming present for Twilight.

It was quite ridiculous, was it not? All this… for an admittedly very joyful squeal and a bright smile. Something I could encourage, no, guarantee in probably a myriad of other ways.

This. None of this was strictly necessary.

My curiosity for working with a new metal I had never laid hoof on before. My wish to present Twilight with something truly unique. My attempt to spend some quality time with Celestia. And what quality time was that? Trudging through the jungle, with a half-baked brain, moaning about the heat? We could have had an entire week in Canterlot. Shopping. Visiting the orchestra. A couple of visits to the Tasty Treat and Saffron, just to indulge in some nostalgia. And really good food. She could have tried to rope me into pranking Luna. And Luna would have tried to rope me into her revenge pranks. We could have visited Ponyville for a day or two.

What I had, after several days out here in the jungle, was a saddlebag full of avocado and a bunch of weird old keys I actually did not even know what to do with yet.

I sighed again. Maybe this had been a stupid idea from the start. I did not belong out here. And everypony had just been kind enough to support my delusions.

But even all that put aside. Even if I tried to imagine this was the most fun I had in ages. This was totally worth it, every second of it. And there was such a spectacular prize waiting at the end of it all. If she asked me to quit, would I?

There was only one honest answer I could give. And maybe I should have been ashamed of it. Maybe I should have been worried about that. “In a heartbeat,” I gave my reply. She did not want a fanatic. A worshiper who would try to read her mind and every thought and wish to please her. And yet I found myself asking: Was I any different? Did I not do almost anything she asked of me? Did I not try to anticipate her wishes and desires? And did I not try to fulfill them?

My chain of thoughts was broken when she leaned down and nuzzled me before she placed a soft kiss on my lips. “You are overthinking again. I can see it.” Her soft voice was without accusations. No reprimand. Just a reminder that to her, I was an open book.

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Was not,” I mumbled in a meek attempt.

She just smiled in this utterly disarming way. “Let us head inside before you get a sunburn. We could both use a bath right now. And maybe I know a trick or two to take your mind off things.”

My ears perked up and the heat in my face intensified a little more, but I was all too eager to follow her inside. Soon after, we made a bit of a mess in the bathroom. Which was quite the problem, as it quickly turned out. The entire thing was still a tent after all. I did not claim to understand how the internal structural integrity worked, but the fabric floor being drenched was a problem. Luckily Celestia knew quite a lot of handy spells for such predicaments. And drying stuff was kind of her specialty, amongst other things.

After the bath — and the sex and the subsequent clean-up —, we retreated to the bed for a while. We just lazed around. I infrequently talked a little bit more about last night’s escapades and Luna’s current plan of action, as far as she had shared it with me. And on one occasion, Celestia shared her worries with me that these temples or trials or whatever they were might have been constructed either by another immortal, or at least by someone who had intimate understanding of immortals. It was as good an opportunity as I would get, but she just told me that she still had not decided if she wanted us to return home or not.

When evening came around and the sun started to set, we once again put all the stuff outside. This time however, we decided to work hoof in hoof. She peeled and cut the pineapple we had gathered and I busied myself with transforming several avocados into a lightly salted and less lightly peppered avocado crème. Dinner was ready soon after and we once again enjoyed our meal a lot more than those first two days. “You know, it’s funny,” I started to share my observation and pointed down the hill, “you can almost watch the jungle reclaim the land. There are little green patches here and there in places that were charred and dead a few days ago. In two or three weeks, this entire hill will be green again, I think.”

She nodded. “Jungles are quite sturdy in that regard. Fire rarely affects such a humid region to begin with and even if it does, life is strong here. It quickly reclaims whatever was lost.”

“It’s impressive,” I concluded and shoved another piece of pineapple in my mouth. It was sweet without being overbearing, with just the right amount of underlying sourness. I picked up another piece and gulped it down and only after my plate was almost empty did I start to wonder. “Say, uh… you don’t like pineapple?”

I had seen her eat a piece or two. But I was almost certain that those had been the only pieces she had taken for herself. I was even more confused when her calm, warm smile suddenly gained a sly edge. “Oh, I do quite appreciate the flavor, believe me.”

“Alright? Then… why did I eat most of it?”

Her smile grew into a smirk and she slowly stood up. “It is an experiment of mine, you could say.”

I tilted my head slightly and tried to make sense of that. Had she infused it with magic? Was ‘enchanted pineapple’ even a thing? Could it be? What for, though? “Okay, I, uh… before I confuse myself further — I don’t get it.”

She had reached my side of the table by now and sat down beside me. Despite my current confusion, I sighed happily just because she was close. “It is said that consuming certain quantities of pineapple has specific repercussions for other flavors.”

“Uh-huh. Still barely following.”

She giggled. “That is quite alright. Let me show you.”

All in all, it was a really nice evening. And I quite liked pineapple. Such a nice flavor.

The Magic of (listening to your) Friendship

With an unremarkable night shift coming to an end, my consciousness slowly stirred within my body. Warmth surrounded me. A downy softness covered me above, and a silken one below. The soft breathing of Celestia right beside me. A little higher up. A little too high for my tastes. I wrinkled my muzzle and mild displeasure. It would not be easy to just stretch my neck and give her a kiss this way. Where was I? How had I come to rest against her chest? Sometime last night, I must have shuffled myself further down.

Despite this observation, I did not move. Not quite yet anyway. I just listened to her calm and steady breathing. She was still fast asleep. It lured me in, coaxed me to join her. I could certainly do with another hour or two, I would not mind. But my mind started working, the gears turned slowly and with a creak. And my mind was fed up with sleep for one night. It would not let me drift off again.

The universe does not appreciate a vacuum. I did not understand why. Emptiness was the ultimate form of order, was it not? At least one possibility for it. But the universe despised emptiness, and rushed to fill any void with something. Anything. At the earliest opportunity. And me being part of this universe had implications in that regard. With my night being neither overly enjoyable, nor overly arduous, my emotional state was the equivalent to a blank slate. Blank meaning empty. And I felt a rush coming to fill that void.

Lucky for me, it turned out to be about last evening. My memories flooded the empty space and I involuntarily smiled. It still felt strange on occasion. To see how devoted we were to each other. Well, to be honest — I wondered a lot more about her devotion to me than the other way around. In that regard, I could understand Luna a lot better. She was no mare of half-measures. And neither did I seem to be a stallion capable of such.

But how. How had I captured the sun? I heard her heartbeat when I bent my head just right to carefully put my ear against her chest. Strong and powerful and yet restrained. It spoke of how much more it was capable of if push came to shove.

These moments of doubt sometimes turned to more innocent moments of wonder. Of appreciation, and gratefulness. I did not comprehend how this had happened. But goodness gracious, was I grateful that it did. I tried to nestle even closer to her, despite us already lying skin on skin. I would have crawled into her if that would have been a possibility. It just felt so peaceful to be close to her. No storm or concern or vile part of reality would dare approach closer than the furthest point on the horizon as long as she was this close. And I basked in her light and warmth like I never did with her actual sunlight.

My nostrils flared and I took in her scent. Summer heat, morning dew and sunflowers. And the remnants of sleep. Without thinking much about it, I brushed my lips along her chest, slowly shuffling even further down. I slipped past the edge of her wing, and my head finally vanished beneath it. I had to stifle a giggle. For a second or two, I felt like a colt hiding under his blanket. And as a blanket she had extended her wing, had she not? The actual one was situated on her other side, draped halfway across her back.

My continued movement finally proved too much for her sleepy mind. She hummed a little in appreciation as I continued to kiss, nip and lick a little trail, lazily making my way to her stomach. Another couple of seconds and she cracked an eye open. “That must be one of the nicest ways to wake up,” she murmured.

And I smiled. I was glad she did not feel disturbed. That she was not annoyed. Or grumpy. So I continued further. As I reached her teats, I felt my smile tilt a little lopsided and gave one a tentative lick. A quiet sigh, followed by an even quieter giggle was my reward. She carefully folded her wing and rolled onto her back without dislodging me. Once she felt comfortable again, she raised her head and looked down on herself. “What are you doing…?” she whispered, traces of tiredness still lacing her expression and voice.

I repositioned myself as well, slowly grabbing hold of her nice, plump rump. I raised my muzzle just enough to let her see my smug grin. “Something something pineapple,” I mumbled in response, which elicited a less restrained giggle from her. She shook her head in mild disbelief, but at the same time, she beamed at me and then let her head fall back down onto the pillow. It was all the encouragement I needed. She relaxed, and gave control over to me. And I vowed to take good care of her.

Her shuddering breaths were delightful to listen to. I crawled back up and kissed her without hesitation. There was a fraction of a second of surprise, but with her currently addled mind, she quite enjoyed the flavor. And I pulled away a second later to let her catch her ragged breathing. I scooched a little lower again and laid my head on her chest once more and listened to her heart going on a rampage. I giggled a little as I felt her left hindleg twitch and yank, even more than half a minute after the fact. Would her mind have been in any state to do so, she would have at least tried to chide me for my amusement. Not in earnest, of course. It was all just teasing and fooling around.

“I feel—” she started with a slightly raspy voice, before clearing her throat and searching for the right words to finish, “… quite spent.”

“Well, you’ve been quite a hoofful,” I replied with a chuckle. “And rather insatiable,” I added a moment later with a smirk. I honestly would not have minded to go for another round or three, were it not for my lower jaw being a little tired.

“Somepony told me that there is no such thing as ‘too much of a good thing’,” she shot right back with a giggle. “And somepony seemed quite eager after the first… hm…” She fell quiet for a few moments, her brow furrowed while she tried to count something. The details of which had become fuzzy, however. So she ultimately shrugged. “After the first couple of times.”

My grin intensified to a degree that my cheeks started to ache. My jaw muscles felt sore. My tongue had gone numb for a brief period at some point and my hooves were aching a little as well, my magic was in a less than ideal shape and none of that really mattered. I felt proud beyond words. She had enjoyed herself a lot and I knew that without asking and I had been the reason for it. How could I not pride myself on that?

We drifted into a companionable silence for a while. Minutes passed. Her breath evened out. Her heartbeat became calm and steady once more. Her nethers and tail were damp and sticky, but right now, that did not seem to matter all that much. She had no intention of getting out of bed just yet. And so we just enjoyed each other’s proximity, accentuated by the occasional sigh.

However, even a deeply relaxed mind eventually started to run again. And she was the one who broke the silence first. “How is Luna doing?”

I was just glad she had not asked that sooner. It could have been a bit of a mood killer. But I couldn't help but smile either. She was always so worried about her little sister. Even though Luna was perfectly capable of looking out for herself. “She’s fine. Don’t worry. We did our job and she barely mentioned any catastrophes in Canterlot, so I’m inclined to say: Fancy, or whoever else is giving her advice, is doing a fantastic job.”

She nodded and I saw relief disperse what little worry had built up in that short amount of time. “I still owe you an answer,” she continued after a moment. “For yesterday. If I wish for us to return home.”

I nodded, grateful for the clarification, and tilted my head enough that I could properly look at her. Though admittedly, speaking was more difficult this way, since my throat and jaw rested on her chest. “Before you speak. I want to contribute something to that decision of yours, if I may?” She agreed and I shot her another grateful smile. “I admittedly could have said so earlier, but honestly, it just slipped my mind. There are five sites I wanted to visit. Five in total.” I saw her do a little mental mathematics and I nodded as she asked me wordlessly. “Today would be the last.”

“But you had planned for an entire week?” she replied with a slightly furrowed brow.

I grinned and shrugged. “Yupp. I like to have buffers. I mean, every time I leave Canterlot by train, you remind me that I leave half an hour early and that I will stand around the train station for half an hour, bored out of my mind. And you’re right. Almost every time, you’re right. But I plan for inconveniences with a low probability. A toppled cart might block the street I need to use. I might want to help somepony with something on the way. Maybe a guard stops me for a search or something. You can never know what might happen. And half an hour is an acceptable sacrifice to ensure that I will get my train anyway.”

I saw her grin with that specific kind of understanding that two similar souls shared. She was used to such planning in her own way. Trying to accommodate for failing plans. Allowing for bureaucratic hiccups when constructing a time table. She even considered her aides’ and clerks’ unique quirks when planning her lunch breaks.

I knew she understood. Which meant that I had no reason to explain any further than I already had. The conclusion however was worth talking about. We had another two days before we were expected back. Given today’s events would not completely derail everything, of course. And admittedly given that she was still willing to go through with it.

I even tried to throw a little incentive on top. “I was thinking, once we’re done here, you could take charge? We pack things up, head home and you can decide what we do for those two days?” I grimaced a little once my mind caught up and tried to reframe the idea as me giving her the bare scraps I had no use for any longer.

“Anything I want?” she asked with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

I gulped. My mind was on fire, racing with hypotheticals and potential scenarios, but ultimately, I came up empty-hoofed. I could not imagine a single thing I actually had to fear. Maybe she would drag me to some high society fashion show or something. But that would mean she would suffer just as much as I would. Or maybe she had a shorter journey in mind? She could be quite adventurous herself.

I ultimately shrugged and nodded. “Anything,” I answered. And with the decision made, I was ready to stand by it and see it through to the end, no matter what.

She smiled for a while and followed her own trail of thoughts until she finally sighed. “We have come so far. Let us finish what we started. I have an inkling that it will most likely be emotionally draining, at the very least, so we should plan with us staying here for the rest of the day. But I will think about tomorrow.”

I crawled a little upwards and kissed her. She enjoyed the gesture as much as I did, but once we pulled apart, she grimaced a little. “We both need a toothbrush,” she announced with a grin. My belly rumbled. “And maybe breakfast.”

I chuckled when her belly replied in kind, both of our stomachs having a conversation again. “Definitely breakfast. Alright, let’s get this show on the road then.”

Seeing as we faced the last trial today, we both felt a little excess excited energy. Our bath routine was done quickly, our breakfast was assembled and devoured quickly, and our preparations, few as they were to begin with, were done quickly.

And soon after, we found ourselves in the jungle once more. The heat was still oppressive, the humidity still very much annoying and the insects buzzing around me like hotel guests swarming a free buffet were very much aggravating. But it was all a lot more bearable just because I knew that it was the last time.

And yet I felt some strange kind of sorrow, almost.

This ‘adventure’ of mine had been strange through and through. We had cut out some parts I did not like. I had been complaining a lot. Or I trudged along like a zombie, brainlessly muttering about heat and aching hooves. And we had lived in a tent that was the equivalent of a palace.

But today, it all came to an end. And it felt rather abrupt for some reason. I was looking forward to being done with this forsaken jungle. I was looking forward to finally getting back home. Back to civilization. Back to Luna and Twilight and all my friends.

Had there been anything I enjoyed about this adventure? Anything apart from Celestia? Because I could have her company every day.

Then again. That was not entirely true, was it? I could visit her, true. We could have afternoons. Evenings. Nights. But she was chained to Equestria’s throne. She was The Princess Celestia. Eternal Ruler, Beloved Mother. Upon our return, things would go back to the way they had been before. The way they were meant to be. She would rule and I would have to get by with whatever time was left beside that. Lazing around in the morning. Joking around while assembling a makeshift breakfast table. These things were so incredibly mundane. Family life. Home. Yet back home, they were a lot rarer than out here in the wilderness.

We trudged through the jungle, our progress slow as usual. And I found myself looking at her time and again. I longed for this way of life. A part of me wished to be with her like this forever. And that part was insistent enough on this wish being fulfilled that it was willing to put up with a freaking jungle.

I sighed.

And despite the jungle being quite loud with the sounds of birds and the rustling of small critters in the underbrush, she heard it. “Is everything alright?” she asked. I internally cursed her ability to read me this easily. She could effortlessly distinguish between 'I'm warm'-sighs and 'Something is on my mind'-sighs. And yet I was glad she could. It made things easier on so many occasions.

I did not want to explain myself fully. My thoughts, due to heat and insects and ongoing chaos, were less than fully formed and I had not yet drawn any proper conclusions for myself. But she would not accept silence either. “Depending on how things went with Luna in charge… do you think we could do this more often?”

“You mean ‘vanish from the spotlight, exit civilization and live off the land in a remote location with nopony around’?” she asked with a teasing smile.

While I could appreciate her attempt to lighten the mood, a part of me was quite petulant right now and saw no fault with the scenario she so flagrantly presented as ridiculous. I tried to keep a tight lid on that and merely nodded in earnest, before managing to add some words as well. “Maybe. Vacations, in general.”

With her experience with reading ponies, it really was no wonder that she quickly picked up on my mood. She sighed with a wry smile. “I would love that.”

I replied with a similar smile and nodded. “Me too.”

We fell silent once more, and continued on until we reached our destination a few more hours later.

“Alright, so, here’s what I’m thinking happened here,” I started and sat down on my haunches so that I could properly gesture. “We obviously can’t know which trial site was built first, right? I just picked the order at random. Well, actually not completely at random, I picked them clockwise. Doesn’t matter. So, they built that first temple, right? They are like ‘oh yeah, nice trials, you need to keep your body in shape to progress and such’. And then one of the builders steps up and is like: ‘But do we really care if those contestants are in good shape?’ And they all have a mighty think and they suddenly realize: Damn. No. It actually doesn’t matter. Heck, it shouldn’t matter. But the first trial is already built, right? Makes no sense to tear it down now. But, they can learn from mistakes. And that first trial will at least ensure that nopony passes these trials that isn’t at least decently in shape. Just to make sure that the contestant doesn’t keel over because he had to climb three stairs or something like that. And that’s why they all look like this, with one notable exception.”

Celestia sat beside me and all throughout my annoyed rant, she listened with an amused smile while she watched yet another lone, dome-shaped ruin. “Maybe they ran out of stone or enchantment ingredients?” she contributed her own ideas. “You have to admit, the landscape in the entire region we have seen so far does not really offer good spots for a quarry. No steeper hills, not mountains. Just a gently curved and endless green sea.”

I huffed and leaned against her. She put her wing around me for comfort, but it quickly grew uncomfortable. Too warm. Too damp. Too everything. But I appreciated the gesture. “Thanks.” And with a sharp inhale, I stood back up again. “Alright, fine, let’s get this over with.”

We entered the dome and I sighed in relief as the temperatures dropped immediately and the constant buzzing of insects receded. We had tried to keep our eyes peeled for the occasional opportunity to fill our saddlebags again on our way over her and while we had not come across another garden, we still managed to find some bananas, a lemon, a grapefruit and another avocado tree. Sadly only a few of them had been ripe, but those that were we had taken along.

The half-filled saddlebags we discarded next to the entrance again before once more walking around an empty room, inspecting it for any clues or traps. We decidedly ignored the lone stone pedestal in the middle for now. And the flat bowl sporting a key ready to be grabbed.

We found nothing, of course. But it was worth being thorough. We would not get sloppy on the finishing straight. “Right, let’s see,” I murmured when we both concluded our examination of the dome and stepped up to the pillar in the middle. Things were quite clear again. The key just lay there. Ready for pickup. And as soon as we tried, all Tartarus would break loose. We had been through that before. More than once. “Are you ready?” I asked.

She snorted. “For what?” she replied and took a defensive stance.

“Hm. Good point.” I grabbed the key with my magic.

And all Tartarus broke loose.

The very second my magic dared to touch the key, something wormed its way into my head, quicker than I could have anticipated. It broke through all defenses with intimidating ease. And then it took control of my magic. Something far beyond my capabilities sparked into my horn, channeled energy from who-knows-where and we were both ripped straight out of our own world.

I wheezed and reeled from what had happened when Celestia’s voice reached my ears. “Are you alright?” My first impulse was to laugh. Did I look alright? Did I seem alright to her? But something made me hold back my snark. There was a tinge of genuine worry in her voice.

I raised my gaze and took in what I had not expected to see. The dome was gone. So was the entire jungle. We once again stood in the dreamscape. A star-studded landscape of inky nighttime, with the occasional dream bubble floating and bobbing around. We had reached the trial site in the afternoon — no wonder barely anyone was around. Or maybe the significantly decreased density of dream bubbles correlated to our remote location?

I was given no time to analyze this curiosity as Celestia grabbed me with both hooves and pushed herself off into a jump, carrying me with her. We landed a few feet to the side and I was about to ask why she had jumped in the first place when a massive hoof, or something resembling one, came crashing down right where we had been.

“What in the heavens is that thing?” she whispered while we both stared at the giant hoof and then slowly followed the connected leg upwards.

I had a bad feeling about this. This ‘hoof’ did not look right. It was not made of keratin. That leg was not made of hair, skin, flesh, blood and bone. But it was not made of light either. Unlike other dreamscape creatures, this one was a swirling, twirling mass of star constellations, intermingled with colorful shades of nebulae, held together by an unfathomable force of will.

We had almost been crushed by the Tantabus.

“Horseapples.” For a fraction of a second, I was very much confused. I thought I had not said anything. I could still feel myself gawk at the sheer size of this thing with an open mouth. But at the same time, hearing Celestia swear and curse was utterly incomprehensible.

The Tantabus had assumed the general shape of a pony. An alicorn no less. But it was the size of a mountain. And with a swift flick of its horn — or what I assumed to be ‘swift’, given the size of this thing — it created a tear in the dreamscape.

My blood froze upon seeing this. I knew what I saw and I knew what it meant. “Shoot!” It was both a swear on my part as well as a command. I shot a simple energy beam at the creature. With a moment of imagination, I formed it into a net at the last second and tried to encompass the entire creature. I quickly gave up on that and made the net large enough to catch its head. And with the ‘rope’ the energy beam had become held tight over my shoulder, I tried to walk away from the rift, tried to pull the enormous creature away.

Celestia had followed my command and shot the Tantabus as well. A steady, focused beam of light clashed against the creature’s chest and admittedly, her efforts seemed to do a lot more than mine. As far as I could tell, the best I had managed to accomplish was to annoy the thing mildly due to ropes being draped over its face. Then again — the Tantabus was a dreamscape creature. They did not have real faces, real eyes, real muzzles. They did not care about such inconveniences.

“Remember,” I yelled in hopes of Celestia hearing me, “you can imagine anything and force it into being!”

The dreamscape and its mechanics required a certain mental flexibility that did not come naturally to many ponies. Being the mistress of this realm, Luna was of course a master of this. But Luna was not here.

And just like that, it clicked.

I was useless. But judging by the Tantabus being at a standstill: Celestia was not. “Keep it away from the rift, I’ll get help!”

She had just conjured a set of golden armor into being — her formerly used battle armor, I assumed — and looked mildly terrified by the prospect of having to deal with this fight alone, but she nodded anyway. She was aware that we needed more firepower than we had. And she trusted me.

Luckily, I had a lot of friends. And even more lucky for us: The dreamscape was in its beautiful night sky theme already, meaning Luna was asleep and dreamwalking.

Navigation in the dreamscape was a little fiddly. Since everything depended on willpower and the strength of one’s convictions, it was simple enough to find another dreamwalker: I just had to think about them. That was the theory. In practice however, I returned to the scene of the fight twice, because my decision wavered and my thoughts returned to my worries if Celestia would really be able to hold the line.

Only on the third attempt did I gallop straight ahead, away from the fight and barreled straight into Luna shortly thereafter. We both tumbled into a mess of bodies and limbs. She had not seen me coming, which struck me as weird. But then again, it was afternoon. The dreamscape seemed quiet. Her shift was probably boring and uneventful so far. Not that this was any reason to get sloppy.

I considered if maybe, this was not the real dreamscape. It was a possibility after all. The mirror hallway of the other challenge had tricked us into believing we were here as well. But this time felt different. I could tell it was real. It had somehow used my magic to bring us here. And this dreamscape followed all the rules I knew, not like a simple illusion for eyes and ears.

“Luna, we need help!” I half-yelled while I tried to scramble away from her.

She was on her hooves quicker than I managed and in seconds, her armor was on her and her scythe appeared floating behind her. “Explain yourself!” she demanded.

I cringed a little. “Sorry Luna, but we really don’t have much time. There’s a dreamscape creature trying to escape the realm and I don’t know how long Celestia will be able to hold it!”

She recoiled from my short version alone. “You brought my sister here?”

I stumbled for words but ultimately shook my head. “Long story. Help? Please?” It sounded more like me desperately begging her than I would have liked, but I was not about to take anything I had said back. She nodded with grim determination and while she focused on following me, I focused on returning to the battlefield. As soon as we arrived, she stopped and took in the scene before her. Her mouth hung open as she saw the creature. “According to Celestia, that is a—“

“The Tantabus,” Luna cut in and corrected me. I saw her mind race. A few seconds later, she gave me a nod. “We have not faced this creature for a long time. Let us test our mettle.”

And with that, she ran straight ahead and threw her scythe like a boomerang in a wild, wide arc. The blade cleaved through the nebulous stuff the creature was made of, but each slice closed right behind the passing weapon.

Luna took position beside her sister and both exchanged a relieved smile. “’T hast been a while since we stoodeth side by side, sister mine! Thy armor looks… different.”

With a flick of golden glow, Celestia manifested a massive battle axe and threw it in an arc towards the creatures’ chest not, dissimilar to what Luna had done with her scythe previously. “It is quite nostalgic, I will admit,” she replied with a smile before she furrowed her brow and looked down on her armor. “It does?”

Luna grinned and shot a massive beam of moonlight into the creature’s ‘face’. “Forsooth. Allow me to offer thee this: For every decent strike thee lands, I shalt disclose another detail thee remembered wrong!”

I was not sure if making this battle into a competition was such a smart idea, but Luna was well aware of the threat this encounter posed — probably more so than I was. I just hoped she was not taking unnecessary risks out of boredom.

While they reunited and fought at the same time, I tried to focus on pushing the massive beast back as best as I could, but I still felt like this was just not enough. If the Tantabus made it to the rift, it would enter our world. The passage would twist its mind, bend and break it, rip it apart, until only shreds of insanity remained. And then we had a huge problem on our hooves.

Even with Luna herself now leading the charge, we barely managed to push the creature away little by little. And I did not feel like any of that was my contribution. Luna seemed to agree as she addressed me while she swooped by, shooting the Tantabus from several different angles to confuse and annoy it. “We need more,” she told me and already rose higher on unseen and unfelt winds, throwing her scythe right into the Tantabus’ face. Its head split wide open, Celestia shot up in a jump regular physical laws would never have allowed for and brought her battle axe down right in the middle of the split head. She tried to cleave the entire creature in two, a solar lance propping up the already impressive display alongside her axe, but once again the nebulous mass the Tantabus consisted of just reformed after the attack.

It was still a good hit though. And a spectacular sight to behold. Something Luna seemed to agree with. “Thee weareth a medal of honor, sister, but we never hadst any ourselves. We didst not liketh the ceremonies.”

While trying to separate one foreleg from the body’s rest with a horizontal sweep of her axe, Celestia looked down on her armor’s chest and took notice of the medal. “Oh. Right. How silly of me.”

I knew that tone. I was preparing to leave the battlefield once more to gather more allies to our sides. But I had admittedly been loitering a little. Their banter was quite entertaining despite the world-threatening event. A little light-hearted teasing to distract from the severity of the fight. But I recognized that tone in her voice as one of her being caught red-hoofed. I knew that there were times she yearned for more recognition on a more personal level. That subconscious desire had apparently wormed its way into her manifested armor.

“… sister?!” I heard Luna's reply and her own voice indicated the uncertainty she felt towards this revelation.

They would work this out eventually. I tore myself away from the fight again and ran away, just far enough to not get distracted from the scene. My mind raced as I checked names and requirements. I needed more friends to fight alongside, yes. But I could hardly pull just half of Ponyville in here. First off, most of them were hard working ponies that would not be asleep right now. And even if they were asleep, I needed ponies with both vivid imagination and a strong will. Preferably ponies that already knew a thing or two about the dreamscape. And that last criterion especially reduced my list of possible options by a lot.

I first checked our ‘usual’ fighters. I had little hope to find Applejack asleep, and that was only confirmed as a gray, lazily swirling bubble swooped down in front of me when I called for her. I had a little bit more hope for Rainbow, but her dream was gray as well, as usual trailing right behind Applejack's dream. “Shoot. AJ, come on, let the girl nap,” I muttered in frustration as I sent Rainbow’s dream off again. I had little hope to find Twilight asleep and was not surprised when she, too, was apparently wide awake. Rarity was not available either.

Well — two more to go from the inner circle. I stomped my hoof down onto the dreamscape and wordlessly called for Fluttershy’s dream. Despite me having little hope, I was surprised to find her asleep. Maybe she was taking an afternoon nap. But I quickly realized: Fluttershy would have problems entering this fight. None of her other friends were there. And all by her lonesome, with only two Princesses for company… she would be intimidated. It would break her concentration and do little good for our goal.

I needed backup if I wanted to bring her in. Somepony she could cling to.

Or, maybe, somedragon.

I knew that Spike took the occasional afternoon nap as well. Usually when he took a break from his daily chores or when he was already done with them. And he tended to fall asleep with a comic book on his belly. I was not all that surprised to find him asleep now. I stepped closer to his dream, placed my hoof against it and carefully sunk into the bubble.

I came to my senses in a massive cave. Rough, unworked stone surrounded me on all sides, even though I could barely see the ceiling due to how high it was. I was barely able to spot rough patches of the floor as well, since most of it was littered with heaps of gemstones. And comic books, amusingly enough. Not a single bit or piece of gold though.

Spike was resting on the biggest pile of his massive hoard. I saw no entrance, no windows. The mountain-sized dragon dwarfed even his other adult kin over in our real world. And judging by his flaring nostrils and his slowly shifting head, he knew full well that I was here and that I should not be here.

“Who dares so foolishly to intrude upon my domain?” his deep gravelly voice growled. It was strong enough to even make the stone surrounding us vibrate.

Seeing as I had no intention of getting eaten, I quickly manifested a wizard hat on my head and a fancy red cape across my back. I slowly walked towards him, along a narrow passageway leading through the hills of his hoard up to the central mountain. All of this could obviously have been a regular ‘once I grow old enough (or big enough)’-dream. But the way he spoke implied a certain mindset and I wanted this recruitment to be as smooth and quick as possible, so I played along to the best of my ability.

I bowed deep before the almighty dragon. “Greetings from a faraway land, oh Great and Honorable Spike the Brave and Glorious!”

He seemed quite pleased with my groveling show of respect. “You speak well and yet you fail to answer.” There was no haste in his voice just yet. No displeasure or demand. He was merely hinting that he still awaited a name.

A dreaded task, really. When we played Ogres and Oubliettes and I created a new character or NPC, names were usually the last part I did — because it was the hardest thing to come up with. I was searching for something decently believable when I became aware of a sound I had not noticed previously. A sucking and slurping I initially attributed to Spike allowing himself some gemstones, but the unmistakable crunch of his teeth biting down on those was missing. And the direction was off as well.

I raised my head just enough to shoot a glance in the direction of its origin and noticed two lion’s paws half-buried in the gemstone mountain. An eager feline’s tail jerked from side to side. Feathery wings twitched in excitement. And a feathered head bobbed back and forth with unrelenting focus. With Spike lying on his side like he was, and that figure being busy in the general region of his loins…

I quickly refocused my attention back to the patch of floor I was standing on and tried to ignore those sounds as best as I could. A low grumble from Spike himself made me realize that I was still failing my simple task. “M-Mithran—…dir. Mithrandir, oh Great and Honorable Spike the Brave and Glorious!”

It seemed quite ridiculous how hearing the full title he was known as in the Crystal Empire seemed to completely mollify him every time I used it. But I was not about to question small mercies.

“And what brings you to my lair, Mithrandir?” he asked.

“My nation is small and of little note to the wheel of fate,” I started in my best performance yet. “Our neighbors care little about the plight that has befallen us. But a terrible creature rises from the depths below and threatens to tear apart what once was peaceful. We need to act quickly or all shall be lost. I was sent here to beg for your assistance in hopes of your legends being true.”

I heard his massive form shift and a deep, low grunt rumble in his throat. At long last, a satisfied sigh escaped him and I tried not to think about that too much. “Very well. I will grant your request and we shall depart immediately. I assume you have the required magic to take me to your home, Mithrandir?”

“I can assure you I have come well-prepared.” I pretended to cast a spell. Fancy magic runes started to glow above me and him. I had borrowed their design from some cryptic symbols I had spotted in one of Twilight’s formulas once. While he looked up and was distracted, I quickly levitated over to him, touched his neck and pulled the dreamer out of the dream.

We stood in the dreamscape a moment later. I was glad to have escaped his fantasy and even more glad to have my little buddy back. I hugged Spike while he still tried to make sense of his new surroundings. Luckily, he was quick on the uptake and I had droned on and on about the dreamscape to him for ages. So he basically knew about this realm just about anything I knew. How much of that had stuck with him might have been a totally different question though.

“Uhm… why are we here?” he asked tentatively. “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation or something?”

“I am. And we participated in a trial that brought us here and gave us a massive dreamscape monster to fight. Celestia and Luna are already on the case and they are trying to keep that thing from entering a rift. It wants to escape into our world. You know. Like Celestia’s farmer. Just worse, I think. So I’m making the rounds and recruit whoever I can get. Welcome to the team – ready to fight?”

Considering everything I had dumped in his lap within a few seconds, he took it surprisingly well. A few moments passed with him blankly staring ahead as he processed words and meaning until he pumped his fist into the nonexistent air. “Heck yeah!”

I chuckled. His excitement was a nice breather for my frazzling nerves. “Right. This way, please. Just remember what I told you — imagine it. And then try to force it outside of your head. But for now, just focus on following me.”

He eagerly nodded and kept step with me without issue. It would not take us long to return to the battlefield, but he took that time nonetheless as he remembered the dream we just exited. “So, uhm,” he started while he fidgeted around with his claws, “you, uh… you saw Gabby?”

I grimaced a little, but could not help but smile at the same time. “Mostly her butt. Close enough?”

He audibly gulped and I was just about ready to laugh when he asked in a surprisingly timid voice: “You’re… you’re not going to say anything, are you?”

I was honestly not even sure who he feared I would inform. He had been rather secretive with his relationships for years. We had all speculated about it, of course. Because that was just what friends did. Sticking their noses into the private affairs of their friends. We had suspected that he was in a relationship with one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Or two. Or all three. But now he was dreaming of Gabby. And he was giggling like a love-drunk little colt every time he received a letter from Ember. So I had just given up. If he wanted to share anything, he knew where to find me. I had no overview of his life.

But it seemed to trouble him that I might do something. A tiny part of me wanted to feel offended, but I could understand his fears all too well. I bumped my shoulder into his without missing a beat. “Nah. You’re my buddy, buddy. And buddies stick together, right?”

He grinned as relief washed away his worries. “Right,” he answered and set his face to a determined ‘let’s beat up some bad guys’. Just in time, too. We reached the battlefield and took in the scene for about a second or three. Luna swept across the void, juggling a dozen scythes or so. She sliced and diced away without much progress being made. Celestia had meanwhile changed strategy and tried to keep the Tantabus and the rift apart by placing ‘physical’ obstacles in its path. A massive, golden-glowing brick wall currently concealed the tear.

“You mind helping out?” I asked him again. I knew that it could be an intimidating sight. Two Princesses were already battling this foe. What was he supposed to add? But the dreamscape cared little about age. This realm knew not the implications of time, age and experience.

After reinforcing his determination, he gave a curt nod. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you. And good luck. I’ll be back as fast as I can!” I already turned to leave again. I shot a quick glance back over my shoulder to see him grow back into his massive fantasy-form. The enormous dragon lunged forward and his claws grabbed into the shoulders of the Tantabus. And for the first time since this battle had started, it looked good. He pushed the creature back a good few paces before it started to absorb his claws and wobble around him. He tried to pry his claws free and that became a fight in itself.

More help was better than less help I concluded and refocused my mind.

I returned to Fluttershy’s dream. She was still asleep. “Alright, Shy. Please don’t make this difficult. I really need you.” With a careful touch, I pressed into her dream.

It was so bright that I had to squint. A couple more blinks for good measure and my eyes slowly adjusted to what quickly turned out to be a normal day. The sun was up and bright, a few tufts of cloud hung in the sky and I was surrounded by a massive, but not overly dense broadleaf forest. With barely any underbrush to speak of, I could see a good distance to either side, but I stood on a dirt path that led in both directions for miles. No sign of civilization.

A forest setting was not all that unexpected for one of Fluttershy’s dreams. At least I did not stumble into her fantasizing about Pinkie. That was a good start as far as I was concerned. Then again, I had not found her yet. Maybe they were having their fun in a nearby pond or something.

The task of finding Fluttershy here was daunting. Despite the low density of trees, their canopies were thick and bushy and formed a somewhat closed roof over the entire area. Flying around and searching for her did not seem all that promising.

Maybe I should just—

“Oh,” I voiced in bemusement. “Found her.”

To be fair, it was not particularly hard to find that one tree with yellow bark and pink leaves. Noticing it actually made me chuckle. It was as subtle as I would have expected Rainbow to be. I walked over, leaned against the tree and carefully raised a hoof to knock on its bark. “Hey, Treeshy, I’m searching for Fluttershy. Heard of her?”

It was meant as a tease, but I still stumbled a few steps back when the tree suddenly grew a face on its bark and disturbingly fleshy eyes opened up. “Oh, hello there, sweetie. Did you get lost?”

Sweetie? I furrowed my brow and tentatively nodded. “You’re… a tree. With a face.” I tried to play along with whatever this dream was, but my performance was still a little off-balance from the sudden tree-face and her strange accent and choice of phrasing. It sounded awfully familiar, though…

“Well don’t you worry none, this is just my tree shape,” she explained. “I use it to regenerate when we rest. This way, we have to use less healing potions and spells.”

And with that, it finally clicked. She was in character. She was Buttercup. Her druid character from our Ogres and Oubliettes game. Which was weird, really. That campaign had ended more than a year ago. But she had been awfully fond of Buttercup. She had even drawn her a couple of times.

With this revelation in mind, playing along got considerably easier. “Buttercup? Are you the druid Buttercup?”

Her bark-brows raised. “Why yes I am. You have heard of me?”

“Actually, yeah, I was searching for you. I need your help.” Going for the same angle again might not have been the most original, but then again — it had worked with Spike. Why mess with a formula that had been successful?

“Oh! Well, let me just quickly…” She began her transformation back to her pony form. It was just like Fluttershy used to describe it at the table. Her leaves became a flowing mass and coalesced into two distinct spots while her bark started to smooth out and shrink. It then finally bent to allow for the formation of legs and a head. Her leaves stretched into thinner and thinner strands and became hair in the process until her transformation was done and she opened her eyes again, smiling warmly at me. “Now we can ask the others.”

Right. Others. She had been speaking of ‘we’.

It honestly should not have come as a surprise to me. Where Buttercup was, her team could not have been too far off. They had made camp on the street. I was even somewhat certain that it was very close to the spot I had initially appeared at. But there had been no camp before. Dream logic.

And I saw them all. It was a massive hit of nostalgia. Vortex the Gray, an ambitious unicorn with little regard towards moral limitations. Twilight’s character strived for knowledge and cared little where that knowledge was found. Ulfred One-Swing, Derpy’s barbarian. And of course Commander Storm, Rainbow's pegasus barbarian. It was a scene that could have been ripped straight from my games. Vortex was studying one of her spell books, giving the occasional annoyed grunt when the others got too loud to concentrate. Ulfred and Storm were somewhat quietly hollering some kind of drinking song. While they drank water. Because Vortex had made it perfectly clear how she would deal with them if they were to ever get drunk in her immediate vicinity again. After all, they had spilled hard cider on her book and ruined a spell she had not learned yet last time.

I followed Buttercup closely, and she cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. Even Vortex’, despite her not looking up from her book.

Even more than a year after the campaign had ended and their stories had been told — here they were. Living, breathing. Adventuring on. They had survived the closing of the book. They had survived the end of the story. And lived on in Fluttershy’s mind and memory. In her dreams and fantasies. It was heart-warming to see.

“This fine young gentlecolt here says he requires our help,” Buttercup said.

I shook myself out of my reverie and stepped up to her side. “My name’s Dreamwalker. I’ve heard of your various, uh… exploits. You are adventurers, right? We could use a band of those. Or two, if I’m being honest. I hail from a small town with a long and troubled history. A forest nearby has been the source of many problems, spouting monsters and dark magic. But it has gotten worse these past years. And we aim to set things right. We are willing to pay, of course. And you’d be lodged in our finest houses, free of charge for meals and drinks.”

I knew I had them all, hook, line and sinker. Vortex’ ears had swiveled around as soon as I had mentioned dark magic. Ulfred cared more about the monsters he would be able to best. And Storm was all too eager to have a good bed and as much food and cider as he cared to stuff himself with. And Buttercup, well. Being the sweet and helpful thing that she was, she would come along just to help. And maybe mediate between ‘my people’ and the forest.

They all exchanged glances of varying lengths and intensities. Their group had never had a real ‘leader’, per se. Who was in charge changed depending on the situation. Magical problem? Follow the lead of the wizard! Something needed a good kicking? The barbarians led into battle. This time though, Buttercup was the one to turn to me. “We will gladly help you. And with the sun still being up, we could make a good few hours, if you’d like?”

I smiled and nodded eagerly. “Thank you, all of you! And yes, I think it would be best if we depart immediately.” I stepped up to her, put my hoof on her shoulder with a warm smile and once again pulled the dreamer out of the dream.

“Eep.”

Now that sounded a lot more like Fluttershy. I turned to her, a warm smile on my lips, and hugged her. “Hey. No reason to be afraid, it’s just me.”

“Dreamwalker? What— why— where—” But her confusion was put on hold, when she was once again entranced with the beauty of this realm. The endless black void, dotted with shimmering and twinkling lights. The occasional dream floated around. It was pretty — even if that word barely scratched the surface.

“You took an afternoon nap?” I guessed, just out of curiosity.

She blushed a little and nodded. “Pinkie said I looked tired, and she would not let me go until I listened to her being very reasonable.”

I tried not to be too loud as I broke out into laughter. “Let me guess,” I wheezed in between, “she didn’t exactly sound very reasonable?”

Fluttershy’s timid smile grew into a small grin as she nodded. “Not at all,” she quietly added.

“Well. She did get you to sleep and I should really thank her for that, I guess. Listen, I need your help and it’s urgent.” With my warning ringing all relevant bells in her head, she straightened a little and nodded, ready to listen intently. “We’ve run into a bit of a problem. A dreamscape creature is trying to escape this realm.”

“A-Again?” she cut in in surprise before she noticed how ‘rude’ her interruption had been.

Before she could start mumbling apologies, I nodded and continued. “Yupp, again. This time, we’re not prepared. We don’t have a party of Elements waiting on the other side. Heck, we don’t even know where it will emerge into our world. Celestia, Luna and Spike are already there. They try to keep it away from the rift, but so far, we are barely managing a standstill. We need you, Shy. I’m going to see if I can get anypony else into the fray, but we need every single helping hoof we can get. Are you in?”

Our fight against the farmer — or rather, their fight — had been more than six years ago. But I assumed that she still remembered a lot of what I had said back then. Because Fluttershy was easily frightened and she usually remembered quite well things that frightened her. World-ending threats especially, because they threatened her beloved critters as well.

Much to my relief, her mind was made up rather fast. She looked around, took in the beauty of the dreamscape once more and smiled at me. “You don’t need Fluttershy,” she said with the same strange accent she used for Buttercup, “you need someone who knows a thing or two about transformations, deary.”

I chuckled. “I guess I could use a druid, sure. Please. This way, follow me.” And she did. She even gave me a little tidbit of information I was eager to use on our way back: Pinkie had been so damn keen on getting her to relax and rest that Fluttershy was pretty sure that she had fallen asleep as well. And bringing Pinkie into any encounter of any kind was usually a guarantee for both chaos and victory.

We reached the battlefield. Luna and Celestia had apparently switched positions. Searing beams of intensely focused sunlight burned bright through the Tantabus’ nebulous body. But again, it closed soon after. Soon. Not immediately. Maybe we were wearing it down?

Spike was stuck in the creature’s back with one claw, hesitant to put the other one against it as well. He swiped with his massive draconic tail against the Tantabus’ legs and indeed managed to part them into separate masses. They reconnected, sure, but until they did, the Tantabus did not move. Luna meanwhile closed the last remnants of a rift that I did not remember — and the Tantabus tore a new one close by within seconds. Which explained the strange position of the last rift. She was closing them, one after the other, with new ones being made constantly.

“Maybe help Spike out?” I asked Fluttershy. She had taken in the situation as well and focused herself on her ‘role’. Within seconds, she grew in size, more and more, until a massive and fierce looking yellow dragon with pink spikes on her back towered over me. She unleashed a primal roar before she lunged forwards and… gave the Tantabus a slight shove.

Well.

According to Fluttershy, Buttercup was a violent brute. According to everyone else, she was a polite and well-mannered druid who rarely resorted to violence. But her involvement was enough to free Spike, who quickly scanned her color scheme, put one and one together and grinned a very toothy grin from ear to ear. “Yes!” he hissed, his forked tongue extending beyond his maw. “Dragon-bros go!”

I chuckled. Luna berated her sister for never admitting that she would have liked some stupid medal and ceremony while she closed yet another rift. The world as we knew it could be ending soon if we failed here. And I chuckled. Because quite honestly, this entire scene was just hilarious in so many ways. It was all just so surreal.

I quickly went through my mental checklist. Derpy, Applejack, Twilight, Rainbow, Rarity – all awake. Pinkie was left. I quickly turned and distanced myself from the battlefield once more and stomped my hoof onto the ground with the last vestiges of my patience slowly running out. Pinkie's dream quickly zoomed close. Fluttershy had been right, her dream was vibrant and pink. Of course it was pink.

“Here goes nothing,” I murmured and entered.

I sighed deeply. I had not been sure what to expect. That was the eternal crux with Pinkie. Expect the unexpected. I was floating in the sky, upside down. Or maybe the entire world was upside down. I had a distinct feeling the latter was true. Whenever I turned over, I felt like falling, but I could not. I just floated about like a Celestia-damned balloon. Above me, I saw a forest not dissimilar to the one I had found Fluttershy in.

A clearing drew my attention. I saw a red and white checkerboard picnic blanket. A basket with two plates, two glasses, two sets of cutleries, a cupcake on each plate and a Pinkie sat on one side. She stared up at me with wide eyes.

“Mind giving me a hoof?” I yelled.

She pulled on an invisible line while she grinned widely and yanked me down bit by bit until I was close enough to the ground that I could almost touch it.

… almost.

“Hiya Dreamwalker!” she greeted me with her usual overload of enthusiasm and energy, “Funny seeing you here! What brings you around?”

I tried once more to force my will to shape this dream. I didn't even try any major changes. I just wanted to stop floating like a balloon! But I ran into a figurative brick wall. Pinkie’s subconscious would not budge on this. I was a balloon and I would stay as such. Fine!

I grumbled a little under my breath.

“Diiidn’t quite catch that,” she said with a grin and leaned in closer.

I inhaled deeply. “I said:” I yelled straight into her ear, before considerably decreasing my volume. “Hey Pinks. Nice to see you. I was just floating by.”

Her head rang a little at first. It literally produced the sound of a kitchen timer. But she giggled madly with her usual exuberance once the ringing stopped. “Oh, that’s great! You can join me for my picnic!”

I looked at the blanket. The two sets of plates. And I noticed a few empty wrappers nearby. Some cupcakes had apparently already met their demise. I had a sneaking suspicion about that, but once again, I wanted to trust her. And for the time being, that meant ignoring the obvious.

After all, being confronted with Pinkie’s very own brand of ‘sanity’ and maybe even finding a kindred spirit in her and on top of that witnessing the kindness Fluttershy used to deal with just about anything and anyone… maybe he would come around eventually.

But with no warning signs present, I was willing to give him a wide berth. To give him time.

“Picnic. Sounds lovely. Thing is though, I could really use your help right now,” I explained.

She just giggled again. “I can see that, yes.”

I sighed and flailed around with my limbs, still helpless. “That’s… not even what I mean. See, there’s a dreamscape creature trying to escape the realm again, and I’m gathering a small army to stop it. It’s a small army because most of my friends are wide awake right now.”

“Ohhh, we’re teaching some meanies some manners again?” she asked with a weird twinkle in her eyes.

“Uh… no? Maybe? Not sure,” I admitted. “These things don’t talk. I’m not even sure they truly understand what they are doing. They are not inherently ‘meanies’ either. But passing over will twist its mind and it will bring a lot of devastation. We’d rather not have to deal with that… right?” For a second. Just a fraction of a second. I was not sure who exactly I was currently talking to. It was the weirdest feeling I had experienced in some time. And I had been through some very weird trials lately. But the moment passed and Pinkie’s smile stretched beyond physical limitations, which for some reason eased my worries, as that was very much the Pinkie I recognized. “I already gathered Celestia, Luna, Spike and Shy, we’re—“

“Shy? As in my Fluttershy?!” she suddenly cut in, her eyes wide. “She’s not—… you can’t—… Dreamwalker! How could you?!”

“Pinkie! I. Need. Help. This is serious, and I need all the help I can get!” I shot right back. “And Fluttershy is not some kind of fragile flower you have to protect from the world. She’s very capable, you know that!”

“Y-Yes, but… it’s still Fluttershy we’re talking about!” she answered.

I reached forward and gave up on any and all attempts to touch the ground. I instead touched her cheek. When she looked at me, I shot her my best reassuring smile. “We’ll stand side by side, like we always do. Right? It’ll be fine.”

She sighed, but her smile bloomed into a small smirk. “Because with a friend by your side, you can overcome any challenge. Yes, I remember. You look really funny, being upside down.”

I felt my own smile widen a little. And since I was still in contact with her, I pulled her out alongside my own retreat from her dream. She stood in the dreamscape and spared it little attention. She instead looked back to her dream with an almost wistful sigh. “Now I’m going to miss the picnic.”

I patted her back a little. “There will be other nights, err, afternoons… and other picnics. Don’t worry.”

She nodded with less conviction than I would have liked, but quickly turned her attention to me. “Alright, lead the way!”

I hesitated briefly. I would have loved to tell her something to perk her up some more. Problem was, I came up empty-hoofed. And a clock was ticking in the back of my head. So I gave her another smile, a curt nod and we walked along the coiling, nonexistent paths of the dreamscape.

We reached the battlefield in time to witness a strange spectacle. Luna was still busy stitching rifts together and Celestia, apparently having been told what to do, was helping her as much as she could. The Tantabus had switched tactics and resorted to opening several rifts at once, which posed a considerable new threat: Instead of just having to worry about the massive creature itself escaping, we now had to worry about random stragglers and other dreamscape creatures slipping through as well.

Meanwhile Spike was using all his bulk to wrestle with a single arm the Tantabus had grown from its back in place of its wing. Fluttershy did the same on the other side, still in her equally impressive dragon form.

With my list of potential allies being at its end, I did not hesitate and ran straight for the Tantabus and fired short bursts of energy at it. Barely a tickle, I assumed, but maybe it would make a difference for the others to make some progress.

Pinkie bounced alongside my advance before skipping to the side and pulled an entire cartography table from out of nowhere. With some crayons in her mouth, she quickly sketched the creature, the rifts, the princesses and the dragons and added a bunch of weird lines and dotted lines and circles until barely anything was recognizable anymore.

“It’s just, you see,” Fluttershy said with a little discomfort being apparent in her voice, “I’m not really a dragon-bro, you see? More like… I don’t know… maybe a dragon—… uh… sis?”

Spike grunted with effort and pushed the Tantabus’ weird back-arm a few paces before he was pushed back in equal measure. “Yeah, but, I’m not a sister, so that wouldn’t work!” he replied.

And their argument made me wonder if they tried to help each other or if they had gone mad.

“Maybe dragon-siblings?” Fluttershy offered with a grunt. “But we are not really related. I already have a brother…” She furrowed her scaly brow before an idea sparked a smile spreading on her lips. “But I wouldn’t mind another one! Especially if it is such a nice one!”

Spike chuckled, despite his exhaustion slowly setting in. “Nice, thanks! But ‘dragon-siblings’ sounds kinda weird, don’t you think?”

“Ahhhh-ha!” Pinkie yelled somewhere behind me. But with all the things going on, I was the only one who seemed to take notice of it. “Got it,” she said to herself before she grinned maniacally. “We just need something bigger.”

And with that, in the blink of an eye, she had grown to, well, ‘something bigger’. Now everyone took notice. And out of her mane, Pinkie pulled the Party Cannon. The thing was massive enough to stuff Spike into it. Everyone braced for impact. Everyone except Luna and I, since the blast would not affect and deafen us if we denied it that much power over us. But we both used shields to keep the heads of the others safe. The important part was that they saw the shields, as once again believing in their protection was more vital than the shield itself.

The blast sent a rumbling thunder across the dreamscape.

And it sent tons — literally — of confetti in the direction of the Tantabus. The load hit the creature straight in the chest and it actually reeled back a few paces. Enough for Spike and Fluttershy to gain some ground. Enough for Celestia and Luna to stitch up the remaining rifts and enter the battle again.

It was this point that I realized a teeny, tiny problem.

What next?

Dreamscape creatures had no constitution as such. They could not succumb to exhaustion. They were creatures of pure will. We, on the other hoof, were not. I already saw signs of fatigue with Spike and Fluttershy. And even Celestia would eventually tire. I had mused about us wearing the creature down earlier and only now did I recognize the futility of such hope.

How did one defeat a cloud monster again?

“I wonder what would happen if I were to go through a rift,” I heard Pinkie muse. And despite knowing that Luna and Celestia had closed all tears, I still quickly, almost frantically, scanned the entire scene in a panic. “Oh well. Another time, maybe. Let’s just make a cupcake out of you!”

I craned my neck to look up and saw her mane wobble around as it formed talons. Just long enough and just distinct enough to give a snap with them. I panicked once more and looked to my other allies, but they were still too distracted with the fight. That is, until the Tantabus was suddenly compressed into the form of a massively oversized cupcake. Still made of the same stuff however and it quickly uncoiled itself again into its former shape. “Aw, no fair!” Pinkie whined.

I started to see another problem though.

If she continued to use these powers this freely, the risk of Celestia noticing it would increase more and more. And I was not willing to find out how she would deal with this situation. I had faith in my love. She would never harm a fly if she did not have to. And that was the point: What if she thought she had to?

Maybe I was just overreacting. But I would not lose a friend today. I stomped my hoof onto the ground and summoned Pinkie’s dream. Without waiting, I reared back to kick the bubble. Once it would pop, Pinkie would wake up. Sure, that would put us at a disadvantage again. But we would hopefully manage without her.

Just as my hooves should have connected with her bubble though, I suddenly yelped and fell to the ground with no contact made. Pinkie was considerably smaller now but still ten times my size and looked at me with curiosity and something I could not quite name. “And what are you doing, hm?” she asked and nudged her own dream away.

“Saving your hide, Pinks! I don’t want to find out what happens when she sees that. Do you?” I vaguely gestured towards Celestia.

We both looked, and noticed Dragonshy staring at us. She said something to Spike who nodded and put extra effort in to hold the reformed Tantabus in place while she came over to us. “I-Is this about D—… h-her d-dapper mane?” she whispered.

Dapper mane. Right.

So she knew.

I squinted again and rubbed the bridge of my muzzle with a hoof. This was getting too much. All of it. I had to deal with the Tantabus and with the world ending and with Spike apparently longing for Gabby and with Pinkie housing and maybe slowly reforming Discord and with Fluttershy apparently knowing that and with everyone bickering and bantering while said world-ending was going on.

It was just too much.

“Shy, Pinkie’s doing a horrible job at keeping her secret and that has me worried. Would you mind terribly if I would wake you two up?” I asked her and already summoned her dream sphere as well and called Pinkie's closer again. She did not interfere this time. She just watched and listened and seemed intent to not upset Fluttershy.

“O-Oh… but what will happen with the battle?” she asked worriedly.

“Well…” Good question, Shy. “I thought I had seen the Tantabus struggle earlier. Maybe we’re wearing it down. I hope so. And I’m pretty sure Luna and I have held back so far, maybe it’s time to put more into this. But I’m very glad you both agreed to help. I just… I don’t want to risk either of you getting into trouble, okay?” Because if that thing made it out of here and into our world, they would not be in trouble at all. My own logic was quite frankly baffling me at times. But such was the nature of extreme situations, I assumed. It had a nasty tendency to twist perspectives. What seemed like a good idea one minute was a terrible one the next.

“Well, maybe you could ask it again to please stop fighting?” she suggested.

I chuckled dryly. “If only they could talk,” I replied. And I had not expected to suddenly be subjected to a very, very stern stare from her.

“What do you mean?! You have not asked?” There was a firmness in her voice that painted a stark contrast to her usual tenderness. A tone she usually used before staring some critter down.

“W-Well, they don’t—” Don’t. Don’t what? I reached, grasped for words, but they failed me. Everything cowered under her gaze.

“You have some making up to do, mister!” she insisted and pointed a hoof at the creature. “I will take Pinkie away from here because you are right to be worried about that. But you will talk to that creature!”

“Fluttershy!” I half-whined. That's not how it works! “It’s a smoke monster, it’s just… weird mist and… stuff…”

“I’m a pegasus,” she shot straight back. “I have weird wings instead of a horn. I look different than you. So?”

I cringed hard. The Tantabus had shown signs of intelligence. Most of the dreamscape creatures were intelligent. That did not mean they were friendly. Or that communication was even possible. And the language barrier might actually have been the smaller hurdle on that road.

But a part of me knew that she was right. This ‘Tantabus’, whatever it was, was different. Different from all the other dreamscape creatures I had seen so far. Different from all I knew, even my various memories of other cycles included.

“Fine, I’ll go talk to it,” I relented.

Only then did she give a nod and her features melted into a warm smile. “Don’t worry. I am sure you will be fine. I don’t think we actually ever really hurt it. I am not even sure it feels pain. Just be friendly.”

I nodded like a good little colt and her smile persisted. Pinkie had meanwhile shrunk down to her regular pony size and stepped up to Fluttershy’s side. Fluttershy immediately draped her wing over Pinkie’s back. And as I looked at them, at their familiarity with each other, I had to ask myself how I had never suspected that Fluttershy knew. Their relationship probably had a very weird and quirky dynamic, I mused. Something I might talk to them about later. Or not.

“Thank you,” I repeated once more.

Pinkie shot me an apologetic smile. “Sorry I got a little carried away. Good luck with your monster of the week!”

And with that, they both kicked back and with their dream bubbles bursting, they simply ceased to be.

I turned back to the ‘battlefield’. The Tantabus had managed to gain some ground against Spike again who was straining to keep it in check. It had also opened a new rift which Luna was busy stitching shut again. And Celestia tried to contain it by blocking its path with manifested walls of golden light.

I had to wonder though. This creature was enormous. But it had chosen. It had chosen that size and that form. Had it not? If there truly was only one Tantabus — something Luna had strongly implied —, then I had seen this creature in the secret room Celestia had immolated. It had apparently survived. And somehow found its way back here? Or maybe the temple trial had revived it. There was a lot I did not know or understand. But the creature I had seen in that secret room had been tiny. A hoofful, maybe.

I rubbed the bridge of my muzzle again. With Fluttershy gone, I had a lot less faith in her plan. If one were to actually call it that. But hey, listening to friends — those more experienced with their own ‘monsters of the week’ especially — was a virtue, right?

“Celestia, fall back and help Luna with any and all rifts. Spike, let go of it!” I ordered them. While Celestia had no issue with that first part, they all took umbrage with the second one. For obvious reasons. “I’m going to try to talk to it. Fluttershy's idea.” A moment of hesitation followed before they agreed to give it a shot.

Why in all of Tartarus had I phrased it like that, though? I am going to talk to it? It would have been a lot better to let Celestia do the talking. She was the born diplomat after all. But then again, Luna and her had proven capable of closing multiple rifts fast — something I did not know how to do at all. Right now, I was the most useless part of this battlefield. Might as well try to make myself more useful.

I stepped closer to the massive, giant beast before me and had to raise my head straight up to even see its head. “Hey! Tantabus! Down here! I, uh… would like to… talk?” With each and every word, I felt less confident and more ridiculous.

The Tantabus retracted its weird back legs and reformed them into neatly folded alicorn wings the very moment Spike stopped his assault. It had started to slowly advance towards the rift again. Rifts rather, as they were closed as quickly as it managed to open them.

Once I had yelled my invitation, there was a noticeable change though. I found it hard to believe, but the creature stopped. It stopped walking. It stopped tearing new rifts into the fabric of this reality. And after a moment, its entire body mass started to wobble and contort, until it shrank down. Further and further and it only stopped once it was as large as I was. And in a weird way, it seemed to mimic me. A boarder chin. No wings on its back. Shorter, messier hair.

Hey, come on, my hair’s not that disheveled!

I bit down on my tongue. The last thing we needed right now was to sabotage our newfound diplomatic option with a disgruntled, snarky comment. I instead took a deep breath and prayed to… well actually, Celestia was right there. I briefly looked over to her and despite my deepest, strongest wish for her to take over, she instead gave me an encouraging nod. It’ll have to do. “Do you understand me?” I asked.

And the Tantabus gave a curt nod.

I honestly would have loved to groan at that point. We had battled this thing for what felt like a really long time. And I had required Fluttershy to basically shove my sorry ass over here to even attempt talking. That was a pathetic display, all in itself. And of course it would have been Fluttershy who rectified this. Element of Kindness and all that. She was just all around a nice pony.

That nod alone obviously implied a lot. It understood our language. It knew and understood basic gestures. It had an understanding of size and anatomy. Since everything within the dreamscape was just thought and will and the manifestation thereof, I assumed the obvious source was the one it had used: dreamers.

Though without knowing which dreamers specifically it had gleaned its knowledge from, that was of little use. A blank slate of a mind that learned from a hostile creature would surely produce a different mindset than one that had learned from a friendly one. And things got even more complex once multiple sources were considered. I could not hope to grasp how much this thing knew or understood. How old it was, or how powerful.

And as such, I clung to Fluttershy’s advice, as laughable as it seemed to me. Be friendly.

“Did we hurt you? Are you in pain? If so, maybe we can help you.” I had no idea if we could. But offering that much was important, I felt. Because without the added offer, those questions could easily have been misinterpreted.

The Tantabus slowly moved its head to the left, then to the right, before centering it again. The barest minimum of a head shake. Fair enough. “Do you understand that we tried to stop you from passing through those rifts?” A nod. “Do you understand why?” A head shake.

And that was a problem.

I slowly started to realize that this thing had never truly fought us. Not really. Not with full force. It was probably capable of a lot more than just the little things we had seen. We had inconvenienced it. Heck, maybe it had slowed down on its own accord, hoped for this exact scenario that was unfolding right now, hoped for some explanation as to why we were so insistent on stopping it.

That did not help my dilemma, however. “Do you know what ‘sanity’ is?” Another head shake. Marvelous. “Do you know what a wound is?” A nod. Maybe that was a viable angle. “Do you know the difference between body and mind?” It honestly all came down to this anyway, did it not? In the dreamscape, everything was thought. A body was a direct product of thought and with little consequence.

To my surprise… it nodded. It took its merry time to do so, but after a while, it nodded. Probably something it had only a vague grasp on, due to having read enough memories and fantasies of various dreamers. At least that was the hypothesis I was currently basing my work on. “You are familiar with wounds of the body, then?” Another nod. Still a little hesitant, but less so than with the previous question. A single filly running down a dirt path and tumbling to scrape its knee was enough to understand that much, I presumed. “You are a mind. We are body and mind. The body carries the mind. Protects it. Holds it. Like a vessel. A body can be damaged. A mind can be damaged as well. A mind can suffer wounds. Can you understand that?”

There was a strange ripple effect going on. The surface of its body shuddered and twitched, without the Tantabus losing its form. It was a weird spectacle. The effect ultimately stopped once it nodded again after some time had passed. “We tried to protect ourselves. And you. When you go through a rift, your mind takes wounds. A lot. Many cease to be because of that. The few that make it across have many wounds of mind. And they start lashing out. Causing wounds to others. Ending their existences. Do you understand that?”

I felt like an idiot. I constantly asked if it understood, twice and thrice over. Maybe it understood all of these things a lot better than I did. Who knew how old this thing was. And here I was and talked to it like I was explaining the hot stove to a foal.

It nodded and I tried to trudge through despite my feelings. “Do you understand that we had to stop you?” It nodded again. It was the first time that I allowed myself a sigh of relief. We were not done just yet. Not by a long shot. But knowing it did not begrudge us our intentions and actions was worth a lot already.

The question arose, though: How to proceed from here?

The first step was still simple enough. I just had to use a question it could answer easily. Preferably with a nod or head shake. But try as I might, I could not come up with such a question. In my rising frustration, I just asked anyway. “What do you want in our world? Why did you even try to cross over?”

There was this weird ripple effect again. But this time, it was stronger. More pronounced. Like waves on a beach, mimicking the tides. It produced some ungodly sounds, a violent screech that made all of us flinch back because of the intense volume and the sound’s nature itself. It quickly modulated this noise into something quieter, bearable, before switching a lot of other components. After what felt like a very uncomfortable but thankfully brief timespan, it spoke. In my own voice, eerily enough. “Knowledge.”

Well, that was not as surprising as I had expected. Most dreamscape creatures that tried to cross over got curious about the stuff they saw in the dreams they fed on. Assuming this was a similar case was not hard to do. “So you wanted to learn more about our world.” It nodded. It apparently only resorted to producing sound when strictly necessary. “With the new information I gave you — what the crossing will do to you — you realize that this is not possible, right?”

I was surprised when Luna spoke up at that point. She stepped forward with a heavy sigh. “It can, actually. It knows how to protect itself.”

I didn't even try to hide it this time. I groaned and slowly turned in her direction. She knew this thing. She knew what its name was. And she apparently knew what it was capable of. I would have to dig into that at some point. To see how deep this connection really went. Had she created it? Found it? Nurtured it? Was Luna the source of its understanding of our world? Was the Tantabus what the nameless farmer had been to Celestia? Goddess knew, I was fed up with secrets and revelations for one day.

At least Luna had the decency to lower her head and avoid my gaze. I felt like I might have growled at her like a displeased dog or something, otherwise. So I turned my attention back to the Tantabus and took note of that ‘we’ll talk about this later!’-look Celestia shot her little sister.

“You have been in our world before, right?” I asked. Just to make sure that yes, that thing under the small enchanted glass dome in the secret room had indeed been the same Tantabus we were negotiating with right now. And it confirmed as much with another nod. Great. Just great. And Celestia burned it to a crisp. Well. Considering what exactly my love had done, I had no explanation for what was standing right in front of me. How the Tantabus had survived and managed to get back to the dreamscape was beyond me.

And I resorted to telling myself that it did not matter right now.

“Are you hostile?” I asked. And it slightly tilted its head. That was new. Maybe it didn't quite understand yet. A single word could mean all the difference between a clear understanding and some misguided assumptions. “Do you wish to inflict wounds on others?” I rephrased and fell back on familiar words. It shook its head this time. “Right. Progress. Marvelous.” I rubbed the bridge of my muzzle. I started to feel strangely tired. “We can’t just let you run around our world without supervision, that’s just an invitation for disaster,” I mumbled more to myself than anypony else, “But it’s quite obvious that we can’t keep you in here against your own will either. And really, we shouldn’t try to, knowing what we do know now. You’re not our prisoner after all. Sheesh, what a mess. So… maybe we could put you in a guest room in the palace for now? Or… would Zecora terribly mind a roommate? Yeah. Yeah, she probably would. And nopony would ever forgive me if you learn her rhyming and do that all the time, just like her.”

I snapped out of my loud thinking when Spike cleared his throat, unexpectedly close to me. My head spun around almost painfully and I found him standing right beside me, back to his normal size. “So, uh… if I got this right, you’re basically looking for a place to dump a very curious stranger that needs supervision by a super-powerful being with a lot of spare time and a will to teach, right?”

I immediately knew what he was talking about. And I really, really did not like it. He probably realized as much as I grimaced, judging by his lopsided, apologetic smile. But he did not take back what he had implied. Simply because it was the best solution we had. He knew that. And despite my misgivings, I knew it as well. “And I suddenly feel like my hypothetical Zecora,” I mumbled. I fell silent for a short while and mulled things over. Sending this strange ‘visitor’ to the Crystal Empire? Out of the question. Neither Cadance nor Shining had the time to foalsit something that did not even understand basic concepts of the material realm. Celestia was way too busy as well. As was her sister. And the castle staff… well. They would freak out as soon as they saw that thi—

The Tantabus.

I should probably stop calling it a thing.

Ponyville on the other hoof was used to weirdness. Just last month, ponies were going about their daily business unhindered and unperturbed. Despite another parasprite invasion taking place. There had been a period wherein the town got rebuilt almost once per month. Ponyvillians had a certain reputation within Equestria by now. Oh they still very much panicked at every occasion if it was ‘required’, but it had become more of a weird hobby, so to speak?

And Twilight would delight in this. I knew it. Without asking her. Without being able to see the future. I knew it. An opportunity to learn about this creature and its way of thinking, its way of perceiving the world. What it could tell her about its origins. About its history. About the dreams it had seen. And Twilight would have a student of sorts. Someone she could pump so much knowledge into as her library and own head could hold. And more, probably. I had no idea how intelligent the Tantabus was. If it would even prove to be a good student at all. But Twilight would love to find out.

Maybe there was a tiny part of me caught up in a web of preemptive jealousy. A student meant responsibilities. It meant less time for me.

Everypony stared at me, Tantabus included. I had known for some time but only now did it grow more and more uncomfortable. “Alright, fine. Spike, I’m going to wake you up. Could you deliver—… err… could you… just tell Twilight what the heck happened here?” I half-turned towards the Tantabus. “You will have to wait here for a while. It won’t take long, I think. But we must organize your arrival first. Are you willing to wait until we come and get you?” Once more, its surface rippled. I started to think of it as a humming, like somepony deep in thought might hum to himself. It nodded after a brief moment. “Alright. Good. Spike, you, uh…”

He chuckled and patted my shoulder. “I got it.” His encouraging smile was more than welcome right now. I leaned over and nuzzled him despite his protests that ‘there are ponies watching’. And after that, I summoned his dream and popped it. He was gone, back to the waking world.

Which left four of us.

I looked over to Luna and while there was still a rumble in my throat that wanted to be heard by her, I instead resorted to walk over and hug her. “I have no idea what this creature is to you,” I whispered. “And I hope that maybe, one day, you will trust me enough to tell me. Until then, I think I shan’t press you about it. I hope your rest continues to be less doomsday-like and more relaxing. We’ll see each other in a few hours.” I felt her nod and brushed my neck along hers as I withdrew from her. She did not let me get far though as she suddenly extended her wing as a privacy shield of sorts to spare her sister and kissed me.

I felt myself smile into the kiss and leaned in just a little. “Thank you,” she whispered after she pulled back.

I was not entirely sure what exactly she was thanking me for, but that mattered little to me right now. I just lunged a short distance forward, pecked her on the cheek and elicited a giggle from her. With that done, I trotted over to Celestia’s side and faced the Tantabus again. “Remember. We will come to get you. Please, please, please. Do not cross over on your own.” It nodded. Despite my frustration with the simplicity of the gesture, I knew that this was as good as it would get.

Be friendly, she said. You’ll be fine, she said. I was putting a lot of burden on Fluttershy’s advice.

I looked over to Celestia. She still regarded the Tantabus with a hard to decipher mixture of emotions. “Are you—“

I was promptly cut off when a blinding light flashed through the dreamscape. And we suddenly stood in a jungle ruin. “… ready?” I finished and rapidly blinked in hopes of getting rid of all these stars dancing in my vision. Celestia stood before the pedestal, right beside me, and she stood firm and proud. But I noticed a little quaver in her legs. “Are you alright, love?”

Instead of answering, she slowly craned her neck to look at the entrance. “Could you get our saddlebags, please?” I levitated them over with no problem, but when I tried to put hers on her back, she grimaced slightly. Without a word required, I took them upon my own back as well. It was heavy, but bearable. With another flick of magic, I put the waiting key in my saddlebag as well. “I should have enough to bring us back to camp,” she revealed, “but I should refrain from using too much magic for today after that if we truly wish to get back home tomorrow.” She draped her wing over me and before I could properly respond, her horn charged with a last surge of magic.

We blinked in and out of existence and with a bright light and a wave of heat that did not even matter in this jungle climate, we arrived at our destination. The tremors in her legs immediately got worse. “Shoot,” I managed to curse before I threw the saddlebags off and leaned heavily against her to hold her upright. “Sunny, goodness, don’t do that… I didn’t know you overexerted yourself like that!” We carefully balanced each other into the tent and I navigated her to the bed where she unceremoniously let herself fall to the side, right onto it.

“Sun above, I have not been this tired in a long, long while,” she murmured.

“You haven’t fought in a long while either. And under such weird circumstances,” I remarked and quickly went outside to fetch our saddlebags. Once back inside, I rummaged through them to retrieve the Neverend bottle. I went back over to her, opened it and just put it to her lips. “Drink.” And so she did. Once she stopped, I removed the bottle, closed it again and sat down on my haunches in front of the bed. I could not help but worry about her. I could not remember a single instance in which I had ever seen her spent. Not like this. Post orgasm fatigue, sure. Tired after a long, grueling day of paperwork and stubborn nobles, yes. But this, this was new. And as with all new things, it troubled my mind.

“You look at me like I am about to die,” she said with a ghost of a smile.

“Are you?” I asked in return. And even to my own ears, it sounded more serious than I had intended.

“Probably not,” she replied with a jest of her own. “Though if I were… I would feel better having you closer than this.”

There had been a bunch of plans in the back of my head for our return. What we could do. How we could spend the rest of our day here. Another nice, long bath. Some fooling around, maybe. Another meal, prepared together. Another night watching the sunset, and the moonrise, and the stars twinkle overhead. Less romantic and more mundane steps had been part of this, too. Washing the sweat and grime off of me before even so much as touching Rarity’s bed sheets, for example.

But her request could not have been clearer and right now, I did not care enough. Rarity’s bed sheets would have to endure. I stood back up, finally noticed my own legs being a bit less stable than I was used to and crawled into bed behind her. The small pony, being the big spoon. It still amused me to this day. We switched roles according to mood and necessity, of course. And I was exactly where I belonged right now. I kissed her neck and smiled as she replied with an appreciative sigh.

It took probably less than a minute and she was fast asleep. As far as I was aware, sleeping was like a universal remedy for an alicorn. The ultimate cure-all. Got poisoned? Sleep it off. Got stabbed? Sleep it off. Exhausted yourself magically? Sleep it off.

I knew that she was more or less indestructible to a certain extent. She did not need me to be here, to lie right behind her and hold her with such care as if she were a little filly. But I liked to think that she liked that. And with that, no force of this world would get me away from this spot, I decided.

That was considerably easier done once I fell asleep myself. Which unsurprisingly did not even take me all that long.

The Trials of the Worthy

The next time I woke up, it was dark outside. Judging by the jungle’s sounds, it was the dead of night. I still felt awfully tired and exhausted, despite the hours I must have slept at this point. I could not immediately place what had awoken me. There were no tears in the fabric of the tent, or other indications of a large monster or predator forcing its way inside. Neither was anything wrong on the ground floor, as I craned my neck and looked around. Celestia was still at my side and slept like a log. Her soft, rhythmic breathing lured me. And were it not for me being such a scaredy-cat, I would have loved to do nothing more than follow this allure.

But something had woken me up.

I listened intently, my eyes closed. My ears swiveled this way and that way. Nothing… until.

A relieved sigh. Very, very quiet. Almost inaudible. From upstairs.

Now, as much as I was a scaredy-cat, I was also a trained member of the night guard. I saw no reason to summon my armor just yet as the added weight would probably lead to me being discovered due to noise. But I kept my options ready while I silently slipped out of bed and made my way up the winding stairs.

Only seconds too late did I realize that I had somehow been spotted or heard anyway. Whoever the intruder was, was already escaping. I saw a ponylike shadow jump from the balcony. “Oh heck no you won’t!” I cursed and ran down the stairs. “Sunny, thief!” I half-yelled to wake her up while I ran towards the exit and already pulled at the zipper.

Whoever this was – Daring Do. Doctor Caballeron. The real one this time. Maybe Rainbow Dash. Or Luna. I did not care. I would not let them get away.

The zipper yielded just in time for me to barrel through the exit. With the light of both moon and stars overhead, I could navigate at least the hill a lot easier. And I saw the intruder flee. Silently and quickly, without any noise whatsoever. He or she was gliding, to further reduce noise detection. And maybe even to make it harder for me to spot them. Violently flapping wings would have drawn any looks more than something peacefully sailing away, after all.

But I had managed to see the thief.

I was honestly not even sure if it was a thief. Had they actually stolen anything? I had heard them upstairs and with the balcony being open, that could have been some sort of invitation for any halfway decently skilled flier. I had not had enough time to look around or notice something missing. I had certainly not seen this figure grab anything on their way out. But this intruder was fleeing and that was highly suspicious!

I was about to find out what was going on.

My horn sparked to life with fervor and a trail of magic snaked its way up to the escapee. They were thankfully still gliding away and with a wing held this still, it was a lot easier to focus on that, grab it mid-flight and give it a good yank. I heard a gasp of surprise and then a yell of both pain and panic as the flier quickly tumbled to the ground. I saw the figure land into a roll with impressive agility and I muttered a curse under my breath as I realized that this meant the chase was anything but over. The figure quickly reoriented itself and vanished into the jungle.

I was not thinking straight. Maybe my brain was still addled from sleep, maybe my indignation did not allow for me to grasp a reasonable line of thought. Maybe this reminded me of another time where I was trying to run down an intruder that had—

I was not willing to go down that path.

Whatever the reason may be, I simply refused to give up. I did not slow down. Quite the contrary. I ran down the hill and picked up more speed. I barreled straight into the jungle and despite noticing how everything around me was even darker now, I did not slow down.

I could not see my escapee anymore. I heard rustling left, right and center and tried to figure out if it was something large enough to match the fleeing figure according to the noise’s volume. But in truth, I already knew that I had lost them. More than once did I stumble on some stupid vine or a protruding root, only to land sprawled on the floor in a heap of limbs. But I was back up within seconds and ran again.

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I realized that I was utterly lost. Backtracking to camp would be a very unenjoyable task. It would probably take an hour or so. More if I kept running deeper into this Celestia-forsaken jungle.

I was just about to finally see reason and burst free from the chains of this madness when I noticed the distinct smell of burnt wood. I veered hard to the left and followed my nose for a brief while and soon arrived at the edge of a clearing.

I saw the remnants of a campfire before I really noticed the one responsible for it. The embers were still glowing. It had recently been doused and extinguished with dirt. And right beside it stood a figure I once again only recognized from the descriptions in A. K. Yearlings Daring Do-novels. Ahuizotl. One of Daring Do’s recurring adversaries. A strange mixture of dog and monkey. Powerful hindlegs with paws led into a muscular barrel, the underside of which was colored in a significantly brighter shade of blue than the rest. His tail ended in a surprisingly agile monkey hand, the same way his more furred forelimbs did. A long snout with pointed long ears, the teeth of a carnivore and the annoyed face of someone caught red-hoofed. Or red-handed, in his case. He wore some kind of regalia around his neck, fashioned from gold and with silver inlays, and a couple of similarly crafted bracelets around his legs. I could not imagine this being overly helpful when sneaking around. Then again, he most certainly was not my vanished escapee.

He just so happened to camp near our camp, right in the direction the figure had fled to. What a curious coincidence.

I did not hesitate at all this time. Without closing my eyes, I focused my thoughts, reached for the arcane line connected to me and gave it a good, solid yank. And my night guard armor manifested onto me. The very moment it did, the enchantments started working and even though there was very little light breaking through the canopy of the jungle, it was enough for me to see a lot better than I had before.

“Ahuizotl,” I stated plainly, just to make clear that I kind of, sort of, maybe knew who and what he was.

He looked surprised. “Ah! Finally someone who has the manners to pronounce my name correctly!” he replied with a toothy grin that was probably not meant as threatening as I perceived it.

I pawed the ground just to make clear that, weapon or no, I was ready to stand my ground. He was intimidatingly large. Double my size, if not more. But I was confident in the nature of my training and we had had lessons about how to deal with foes with superior physique. Those had mostly been aimed at griffons, without anypony ever stating as much, but I was sure the lessons were applicable here.

He seemed less impressed with my demonstration though. “Believe me, pony, you don’t want that.” And just to make a point himself, he fully turned towards me and squared his broad shoulders, ready to pounce if necessary.

“I want to know where your associate is,” I replied tersely and actually scanned the surroundings as best as I could without him leaving my sight entirely. And much to my surprise, I noticed a little bush behind him wiggle just the tiniest bit. It could have been a regular little critter. Heck, it could have been a cat for all I knew. Ahuizotl was always described as having powers to command the predators of the jungle, which mostly meant cats of varying sizes. But the timing of that wiggle was perfectly suspicious with the timing of my inquiry.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” he smugly shot back. I was about to answer him as I already grew sick and tired of this game of cat and mouse when a light started to grow brighter and brighter above the jungle canopy. “What in the world is that…?” I heard him murmur as he looked up and actually neglected his wariness of me.

I was not about to strike, of course. I was quite riled up and maybe even eager for a fight, as loathe as I was to admit that even to myself. But I was not an aggressor. Striking in defense only was one of the most important lessons Wither Rose had taught us. And despite having finished training more than a year ago, I still shuddered at the mere idea of disregarding a lesson from my former drill sergeant, almost as if she would rise from the depths of Tartarus right beside me to yell some sense and respect down my ear.

I instead allowed myself a smug grin. “That would be the cavalry arriving,” I replied unbidden. It was admittedly a lot easier to be a loudmouth when I knew that one of the strongest beings of this world was backing me up. And goodness gracious me was I relieved that she had actually somehow managed to find me.

Celestia broke through the canopy like a meteor hitting the earth. The comparison was further cemented by the force of impact her landing had as it sent a little dust cloud up and smaller debris flew about. No crater, though. That would have made the show perfect.

She rose to her full height, her glowing horn illuminated the entire clearing and she quickly took note of what she saw. She scanned me for injuries and seemed relieved to find nothing. Well, maybe the odd scrape or bruise. I had tumbled through the jungle a lot. But she quickly turned her attention to the other being in the clearing.

“Princess Celestia,” he grumbled in a greeting presenting her with just as much respect as he felt was the minimum requirement.

“Guardian Ahuizotl,” she replied much to my surprise. And with a lot more and even more importantly genuine respect.

It was not that she knew his name which baffled me. She was an avid reader of literature in general, so obviously she would have read Daring Do as well. But her tone was different. It spoke of recognition, of strained diplomacy on shaky grounds and of mild frustration to be part of this situation. “Wait… you two know each other?” I asked bemused.

“No,” both answered in unison. And a little too quickly. Judging by the look they shared, they both realized and Ahuizotl quickly continued. “Well, I like to think of it as ‘We know of each other’,” he corrected. I noticed how he performed some strange signs with that hand on his tail. He clearly hoped we would be too distracted to notice it. And so I tried to give no indication that I had noticed. “Your Princess occasionally sends her lackey to my sacred charges to plunder and steal what doesn’t belong in her precious ‘museums’.” He almost spit those words like bile. “However, I do know which powers not to mess with.” And just like that, he rose even higher, giving up on his pounce-ready, defensive stance. With a hand, he brushed through his rough, short mane and tried a diplomatic smile. Which still managed to seem threatening.

Celestia on the other hoof sighed quietly. “They are not my lackeys, Guardian. As I have told you before.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he shot back with traces of agitation. “The same ponies just happen to come to my lands over and over again and they just happen to be well-equipped and they just happen to take what is rightfully under my care to your lands.”

Celestia sighed deeply. “Guardian, I am honestly too tired to deal with this right now and I have no inclination to discuss this further. Maybe we can postpone this for some other time?”

Ahuizotl snorted dismissively. “Oh, sure, be my guest. I wasn’t the one barging into your camp, after all! You may retire for the night, Your Highness.”

Another hand sign towards the bush. And Celestia turned her attention to me. “Can we please retreat now, love?”

Her eyes were pleading with me. And I was not a cruel pony. I hoped.

I had a hard time imagining anything I wished for more than to retire with her again right now. But I also knew myself well enough to know that I would not find easy rest without having an answer to one single question: What was the intruder doing in our tent to begin with? And so I raised my voice towards that bush. “You there. The one hiding over in the bushes. Come out. Now.”

It was curious to watch what happened next. Celestia apparently had not noticed anyone hiding anywhere. But then again, she did look tired. Ahuizotl on the other hoof looked quite alarmed and even repositioned himself with a few steps between said bush and me. As if that had not been suspicious enough, he sent such an urgent, imploring look in Celestia’s direction that I had to wonder what exactly was going on. Again.

And I grew agitated because of it. “Out. Now. Or I’ll set the stupid bush on fire!”

Whatever Ahuizotl and Celestia were talking about with their hasty exchange of glances, she suddenly seemed to be on his side. “Love, please. It is the middle of the night, I am tired and I am sure that we can have this discussion in the morning, yes?” I remained stubborn, and as such did not answer. “You cannot even do what you threaten,” she remarked. Loud enough to be heard in the clearing.

I tried to give this thought a wide berth, but I could not help to think it anyway: Was she deliberately sabotaging me? My head snapped around to face her and I growled a simple “Try me.”

She hesitated. She clearly considered her options and she had plenty of those, I was sure of it. She could teleport us back to camp against my will. Just like that. She was powerful enough. But she did not seem willing to deal with the inevitable fallout of such an action.

I was being unreasonable. I knew that to a certain extent. I was being childish and stubborn and I demanded answers and I demanded them now while I stood in the dark in the middle of the jungle, at night and faced a probably superior foe and something unknown over there in the bushes. But I just could not help myself. This felt like there would be no ‘conversation in the morning’. This was the one and only chance to learn what was going on. Maybe my gut feeling was wrong. But I had trusted it more and more — more than my fragmented memories from my flashes. And it had served me well so far.

To my surprise — and to both Ahuizotl and Celestia's apparent dismay — a surprisingly soft, male voice spoke up. “Please don’t set the bush on fire.” And out stepped…

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” I looked at the escapee. Then at Ahuizotl. And at Celestia. And back at the escapee. “… what?”

A bat pony. On top of that, a stallion that looked maybe half my age? The former would have confused me a lot less had he worn night guard armor. Like I was. But he did not.

The existence of bat ponies had been speculated about. Half-crazed conspiracy theorists had gathered supposed sightings and formed urban myths about them. They had become the center of some new age horror stories. But Luna had always been firm on what the official statement of the palace considering these myths was: They were not real. Just an illusion caused by the enchantments of the armor. Merely a stylistic choice.

Maybe this colt was wearing something? Some other talisman or ring or something, anything, that could explain this? It was not impossible. I did not see anything, he did not seem to wear anything, but maybe the talisman rendered itself invisible?

Maybe?

Celestia rubbed the bridge of her muzzle. Ahuizotl wiped a hand down his snout. And the awkward silence stretched on and on, well into the uncomfortable regions.

“… would somepony care to explain?” I asked as I finally found my voice again. “Please? Anyone?”

The colt himself carefully folded and unfolded his batlike wings as a sign of nervousness and seemed to look to Ahuizotl of all creatures for guidance. And Ahuizotl himself did not look like he was keen on saying anything. So my attention wandered to my right side and I looked up to see a conflicted face. “Sunny?”

Once she heard that name, it broke her out of her internal argument. I had left her little choice. She sighed. “You just had to insist,” she murmured. And I was about to apologize. Genuinely, honestly apologize. I had not wished to maneuver her into some sort of crisis or whatever was going on here. But before I could, she turned to me and started to explain. “There is a fourth tribe. Or rather… there was.”

“… wait, what? Really?” The madponies were right all along...?

She nodded. “They had lived in these lands long before our three tribes arrived here. I believe they were native to these jungles but settled outside of it as well. When we came here, they took notice. But with our tribes being diurnal and them being nocturnal, it took a while for ponies to notice them, to make contact. Despite their low numbers, their knowledge of these lands helped Equestria’s development massively, especially in the early years.”

I was dumbfounded. “Just… just what? How. How? How does nopony know?”

She sighed. “When I faced—… when Luna… fell… These days, most ponies believe that Nightmare Moon’s reign started and ended in a single night. And with the eclipse she brought about, that is technically true. Adding to that confusion is the fact that it both started and ended in our old castle. But there were… weeks in between.”

The colt stepped forward and drew attention from all of us. “Princess? If I may?” he asked with as much respect as I had ever seen coming from any supplicant visiting her during Day Court.

She smiled at him. “It seems only right for one of your kind to speak about this. Please.”

I still reeled from the discovery and therefore did little more than finally allow my knees to buckle. I sat down on my haunches, ignored the little twigs and stones poking my rear and shifted my attention fully to that young stallion. That I still wanted to call a colt because he seemed to gosh-darn young.

“According to the stories we carry from generation to generation,” he started and even went so far as to close his eyes to properly remember them, “we had never been many. Few ever saw the appeal of settling down, most stayed scavengers and nomads, wandering the jungle and the plains. When your kind arrived, we saw kin. Strange in their appearance and customs, strange in their traditions. But kin nonetheless. One of your princesses was more kin to us than any other. She took care of us in a way we had never experienced before. And we swore fealty to her. When she was consumed, some of us stayed by her side. We were a proud people, and no oath was easily given or easily broken. Others betrayed this pride. They argued that they had seen what a monster she had become. That she had fallen victim to a greater threat and needed to be stopped if we ever wished to return our rightful Night Mother. A third group formed. Those that realized our dire situation. Few in numbers and quarreling, drawn into a war that we could not hope to bear. They, too, broke their oaths… and fled in shame. Back to the dark caves and wild forests. Back into the jungle. We, their descendants, remember the stories. Our ancestors witnessed with horror as our brothers and sisters annihilated each other. And with…” He struggled to remember something. I was curious what it was and surprised to hear that it had been her name that was so unfamiliar and rarely used to him. “With Luna gone, we continued to hide. Many feared the scorn of our kin. Their retribution for us oath breakers.”

A thousand years of not-really-voluntary exile. The gravitas of the situation was mind-numbing. I felt my throat tighten as I tore my gaze off, and focused my attention on Celestia. She had listened. But she had also slipped her mask in place. A smooth and impenetrable cover for what I assumed was a mixture of nostalgia and pain. And maybe even guilt. She was quite familiar with guilt, after all. “Does Luna know?” I croaked with a whisper.

She nodded. “It took her a few years after her return to… to overcome her bad conscience. It took some prodding, too. But I eventually managed to get her to go look for them.”

“Things have changed much for few, and little for many,” the colt spoke up again. “Many of us celebrated our reunion with our Night Mother. But wounds this old, scars on both sides, take time to heal.”

“Why hasn’t—… why does nopony… know?” I hesitantly asked Celestia.

She sighed and her shoulders sagged a little. “We have been debating this for years now. Luna is hesitant to reveal them, fearing to both panic our citizens and lose an advantage. And I… I do not wish to force my wisdom upon her. I give her advice. I provide guidance. But this has always been a very personal matter for her and I refuse to take it away from her.”

I still was not sure what to make of all this. There was a fourth tribe. What the bucking Tartarus…?! And Luna had never said anything. Not once. But then again, Celestia had delivered a reasonable sounding explanation for that. It was very, very personal. We were lovers though. Lovers at minimum. She was closer with Twilight than with me — maybe she had told her? Would Twilight be able to keep it a secret from me?

The more I thought about it, the more I managed to get myself entangled in a mess of ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. I was still tired. The one unmistakably true observation I could fully get behind right now. And thinking about just how tired I was felt strangely calming. It helped to refocus my mind a little. And return to something more tangible. I raised my gaze again and for just a moment regarded the co—stallion.

His color scheme was hard to make out, even with Celestia’s horn still illuminating the clearing. His coat was a dark blue, maybe? Or a dark gray? His leathery wings were black as night though. Almost invisible in the dark. A ruffled, short mane of a lighter color. And a cutie mark I could not make out in detail. His youth was not the only thing noticeable on a closer inspection. His entire demeanor was one of uncertainty and nervousness.

But at the end of the day, Fluttershy had chided me just a couple of hours ago. What had she said?

“I’m a Pegasus. I have weird wings instead of a horn. I look different than you. So?”

This young stallion had weird wings. But he was undoubtedly a pony nonetheless. And there was no reason to treat him any different.

I raised a hoof and rubbed my temple. “Say—“ I started, and quickly realized: I didn't even know his name. “Shoot. Applejack would have my hide for this,” I murmured. Not even speaking of Rarity. “I’ve been a tad impolite.” I slowly stood back up and walked over to him under three watchful gazes and offered a hoof once I was close enough. “My name’s Dreamwalker.”

There was a small, timid smile in response to such a mundane gesture. He raised his hoof and put it against mine. “Soft Step.”

I chuckled a little, which confused him. “I know a ‘Soft Step’. She’s a very sweet, bubbly mare. Part of Celestia’s guard, in fact.”

For some reason, he blushed furiously. “O-Oh.”

Which only made me chuckle a little harder. Laughing felt freeing. Refreshing. It took some of the surrealism out of the situation. Right before me stood not a relic of an ancient past or a harbinger of world changes, but just another pony. And it was mildly funny that he shared a name with a mare I knew. “Say, Soft Step. Why the heck did you sneak into our tent?” I was just about done. I just wanted my answer and then take my Celestia back home. Or back to camp, at least.

“W-Well…” And he looked to Ahuizotl again as he clearly wordlessly asked for permission.

Instead of granting such, the guardian himself groaned. I honestly had been impressed by his patience so far. But it seemed that it was slowly running out now. “This reunion is all very historic and heart-warming I’m sure, but did you not wish to retire? Princess, do you not have command over your subjects?”

Celestia answered with a tired sigh and a wry smile in my direction. And Ahuizotl groaned once more. So I addressed him instead. “So Soft Step works for you. Why? Aren’t you the male equivalent to a grumpy old cat lady?”

His growl grew a little more pronounced, more threatening. “Careful, little one. Let’s all stay civil here, shall we?” he warned before he mumbled something I didn't quite catch. “We are currently dealing with a nasty flu spreading across the jungle. I’m a little stretched for personnel. I asked for help and they were willing to lend it. Easy as that.”

“Do you require help?” Celestia immediately offered as her mask slipped and worry became evident in her voice. “I could send some doctors to—“

“We’re fine,” Ahuizotl insisted with a growl. “It’s not the first time and we don’t need your ‘doctors’! The timing is just a little unfortunate, is all.”

While Celestia acknowledged his decision with a nod, but I was less satisfied. “Doesn’t answer my question, though. Why did you send him to us?”

“If I answer, will you get lost already?” he snapped.

“If it’s a satisfactory answer? Sure. I’ll be happy to,” I snapped right back.

Another growl and he wiped his face again. “I had him search for clues as to why you are here. You waltz into my domain unbidden and raise up your camp like you own the place. Then you proceed to search out the trials with pinpoint accuracy and undergo them without guidance. You manage to succeed at all of them and I just don’t understand your intentions. Tell me, pony. What brought you here in the first place?” Ahuizotl furrowed his brow for a moment before a sudden idea sparked in his eyes and he looked up towards Celestia. “Surely you haven’t lost your precious Elements of Harmony, have you?”

Celestia and I shared a look and in a way, I was glad to see that she was just as confused as I was. “We have not,” she answered, which Ahuizotl acknowledged with a nod before he turned his attention back to me.

I was not going to tell him that this entire adventure was part of me fetching some special Hearth’s Warming gift. Others had been kind and restrained with their reactions so far. I could hope for no such mercy from this guy. “I found a book in the Royal Archives. It was written in Centaur, but one of the archivists helped me translate it. It spoke of these trials. “And with all trials passed, he shall emerge, clad in gold and silver blessed by sun and moon, and bestow his greatest treasure.” I thought that, after passing all trials, I would get access to these materials. Sun-blessed gold and moon-blessed silver.”

There was a strange pause. As if the entire world held its breath for a couple of seconds. And then Ahuizotl snapped. With a weird twitch in his face, his lips curled back up, revealing more and more sharp teeth. A deep rumble in his throat put me at alarm. But a few seconds later, I realized that he was chuckling. And soon after that, he broke out into open laughter. Uproarious, raucous laughter.

Close by, Soft Step tried to remain a little more self-restrained, but even he had difficulties maintaining his composure. I looked back to Celestia and wordlessly asked if I had somehow ignored something obvious, but she seemed a little bewildered as well.

“What’s so funny?” I finally dared to ask after a minute or so, when Ahuizotl seemed to slowly recover from his amusement.

“You want your precious metals?” he asked as he shed several of his bracelets and threw them in my direction without a care in the world. “Take those. I can make more. Soft Step will bring you back to your camp and he will take back those six keys you have. Gods have mercy, why do I have to deal with so many fools around these parts…”

Despite the insults he levied against me, I quickly snatched the discarded bracelets in my magic and levitated them in front of me. Assuming he was not lying, those were what I had been searching for. But why? Why did he seem to care so little?

“Wait a sec,” I stopped myself. “Six keys? We only have five.”

Ahuizotl growled again, but his frustration could not match his still remaining amusement. “You have six. I had Soft Step sneak the sixth into your saddlebag at night.”

Oh.

I glanced at the bat pony, and he confirmed the nonchalant statement of breaking and entering with a simple nod. I also took note of the fact that Ahuizotl had not explicitly said which night. And given that he had previously mentioned that these trials were apparently meant to be undertaken with some guidance, it made me curious just how long these two had been watching us progress. Maybe they truly had been here from the beginning.

But I had assured him that I would leave him be after he answered my question — and he had. Curiosity or no, I would not be this impolite and—

“What were these trials for, then? If I may ask,” Celestia spoke up.

I grinned from ear to ear and took no small amount of satisfaction seeing Ahuizotl's frustration grow again. And yet, he knew who not to challenge. I stifled my chuckle at all costs and slowly backtracked to Celestia’s side.

“Have you not figured it out already, Princess?” he growled. “They were designed to test potential bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”

“… what?” I felt my jaw go slack.

“Oh come now, don’t be surprised,” he snapped as his frustration slowly overtook his previous amusement. “You started with the Trial of Allegiance, proving your team spirit, coordination and loyalty to each other.”

“By abandoning my nation,” Celestia replied with a bitterness I had not expected. I scooched even closer to her and leaned a little into her form in a measly attempt to spend some comfort. In reply, she extended her wing down and held me close to her.

“By showing your willingness to stand together no matter what,” Ahuizotl spat his reply. “These trials were not exactly designed to be undertaken by leaders of nations! You ponies can be such numbskulls! With all due respect, Princess. These trials have been here long before even the bat ponies arrived and made these regions their home. And we guardians have done our part to keep these sites intact and usable as they were intended. According to these sites, there are only two bearers meant to be, each carrying three Elements, and they are meant to work in tandem with each other. Not friends, not lovers. But something with similar closeness, defined by trust and faith.”

“If these trials precede ponykind, then… who were they built by?” I cut in as I grew more confused again.

“Oh please,” Ahuizotl shot back, “you ponies are not the hub of the world. Do you really think the Elements of Harmony are something exclusively meant for ponies? They are the manifestation of the concept of balance. Evil grows all by its lonesome, but good must be nurtured and fostered. There will always only ever be one physical representation of the Elements, but when they are needed, they are called forth. This site surely is not the only one in this world. Other civilizations will have had need of such tools as well, long before your kind even existed. Your ‘tree’ and its limited sentience is just another form of these trials.”

“What about the other trials?” Celestia asked.

Ahuizotl shrugged. “What about them? You managed to disperse the hardships of these trials and the worries of your partner with your companionship and mirth. So you passed the one trial that has no site attached. You faced uncomfortable truths about yourself and showed willingness to share them with your partner so that no secrets shall divide you — and you passed the Trial of Truth. You both showed kindness to even those facets of each other that had fallen from grace, passing the Trial of Benevolence. You were willing to give what little you had, water, food, even time and health to help those less fortunate, without any hope for reward and even under the threat of betrayal. So you passed the Trial of Selflessness. And finally, you showed that your bond extends beyond just the two of you. That you can lead others and work together and that you are willing to consider an enemy as a potential friend. And with the Trial of Magic completed, you would have gained the right to claim the Elements of Harmony from me. Which I, as the trials guide, would have been meant to present to you. But I don’t have them. Because you ponies already claimed them. Do you finally understand my confusion now? Why it baffled me, still baffles me, that you came here? But it was all just a fluke! A weird twist of fate, a mere joke of the universe. We all had a good laugh and now you have what you came for and can return home. Get out of my jungle and out of my hair!”

I was struck speechless once more. Ahuizotl spoke like we should have known all these things, but I did not see how we could have known them. It might all have been very clear and obvious to him. But I had worked based on a translation from a book that was who-knows how old, written in a language that was not exactly native to these parts of the world and by hostile creatures no less. I doubted that the centaurs and cyclopses knew anything about the nature of these trials.

Celestia for her part seemed satisfied now. Or maybe she just did not wish to antagonize Ahuizotl any further. And I had already resorted to leave as I had given my word to do just that. I noticed my love looking down to me and I tried to smile and gave a nod to the unspoken question. “We apologize for disturbing your peace, guardian. I will hoof the keys over to Soft Step as soon as we reach our camp, and we will depart in the morning. Thank you for your civility.”

It was that voice. The one she used when merrily running rhetorical circles around ambassadors. The one she used for difficult situations. And it had the appropriate effect. Ahuizotl had talked himself into a bit of a fit, but her voice was clear and cut straight through the haze clouding his mind. It reminded him of his manners and probably how he had behaved earlier. Ahuizotl cleared his throat after a couple of deep breaths and replied with a curt nod. “Thank you as well, Princess. I hope we won’t see each other again anytime soon. And please relay my regards to Daring. I hope her ribs have healed by now. Maybe this time, she will think better of it.”

Celestia grimaced a little, but acknowledged it with a nod nonetheless. Soft Step walked over to us and as we turned and started to walk away he followed us with some distance. And he was absolutely silent, to my astonishment. Had I not known that he was there, I would have had no idea.

I slowly realized something else about the whole ordeal on our way back.

Ahuizotl had spoken like he had seen everything. Which he probably had, being the trial's guardian or something. He had mentioned Celestia cheering me up. Soft Step had snuck into our tent to smuggle that key into my saddlebag. And they had clearly observed our camp for most of the time.

I gulped. We had not exactly been very… quiet. Or restrained. Or subtle. I felt a massive heat wave tear through my body and rise into my cheeks and ears.

“Try not to think about it too much,” Celestia whispered with a sigh. I grimaced and felt caught. I looked up only to see her struggle with the same revelation, apparently.

We arrived at camp sooner than I had expected and I found six keys after some rummaging in my saddlebags. I hoofed them over to our silent shadow. “Sorry again for all the, uh… for all of this,” I apologized to Soft Step.

He just grinned awkwardly. “It’s fine. I had always been curious about the guardians' work, and this was a fine opportunity to learn. So, thank you, I guess. And safe travels!”

“You too.” It was a dumb reply, but I had nothing better in store. I hesitated saying anything more. My head was still a mess. I was talking to a real bat pony. I still had not properly processed what to do with that information. And after some awkward staring at each other, he chuckled a little, turned around and slowly made his way down the hill and back into the jungle. I watched him leave and vanish in the greenery. It was still the middle of the night and everything was painted in shades of black and gray.

I eventually closed the zipper and noticed Celestia coming back down from the upper story. I quickly made my way up, originally to wash my hooves and face, and noticed the balcony of the upper story being closed now. That made me smile for some reason.

Back down on the ground floor, I nestled close to her once more. With my chest against her back and holding her tightly, I could feel her heartbeat. Her breathing. Despite her eyes being closed and her lying still, I could tell that she was still awake.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” I probed and nuzzled into her mane.

“It is alright,” she quietly replied. “I do not think I honestly expected you not to ask.”

“Are you alright?” I probed a little further. “That was… there was a lot of stuff that I… that was a lot. I think I might call this a weird dream when I wake up tomorrow.”

She sighed. “I am fine.”

Alright, enough is enough. I pulled away from her, half sitting up in our bed and tried my best to roll her over onto her other side. Which was not very successful, unsurprisingly. After a moment or two, she relented and turned over. And with that done, I laid down again, muzzle to muzzle. I was not sure what exactly I was searching for in her eyes. I felt that something was troubling her and I wanted to know what. I wanted to help. “You don’t sound fine.”

“I had not expected this issue to come up,” she admitted.

Though her admission did not exactly tell me what precisely she was admitting to. “Which one? Ahuizotl being more civil than he’s being described as in the books? The prospect of multiple sites from which the Elements could be summoned, straight out of our grasp? Bat ponies being a thing that’s real after all, apparently?” I tried to put some humor into my voice, but it seemed to do little.

“Luna has a good point,” she replied and confirmed that it was somehow related to the latter. “As much as I wish for these wounds to finally heal, her decision has its own wisdom. Ponies might very well panic in the face of such revelations. And the more know of this secret, the higher the risk of somepony accidentally revealing it.”

Despite her serious tone, I could not help but quietly snort. “You’re worried I talk too much,” I plainly stated, quite amused.

She grimaced a little following my nonchalance but ultimately nodded. “I would never insinuate that you would do something like this out of malice, of course…”

“… but those who talk a lot might not realize that they talk about the wrong things to the wrong ponies,” I finished. Another nod from her. I could almost see the bad conscience. I was threatening a state secret, in a way. Just by knowing. And being me. But as far as I was concerned, that was manageable. “Phew, good. And here I thought we had some serious issues to discuss. But if that’s all that troubles you, then I am quite glad. Because for once, I can help you.”

Her knitted brows were the best sign of her very reasonable doubt. “You can?”

“Put a geas on me,” I asked with a wry smile.

And for just a fraction of a second, her expression was almost shocked. “I would rather not do that.”

I smiled and shrugged. “I know. But your gears are running at top speed already, right? And knowing you, you’ve been thinking about this ever since we started backtracking to camp. You haven’t come up with something so far, or you wouldn’t be brooding. Now I’m not going to put pressure on you. It’s not about ‘you need to have a solution now’. I’m merely offering. A geas would work. You just magically enforce that I cannot talk about this topic. I don’t intend to make your life harder. So I don’t intend to talk about this. But that’s not enough. Not for you. Not when Equestria’s safety might be at risk. I know that and I understand that. And it’s fine, love. I’m giving you permission. A geas would be the easiest solution. You may apply it whenever you want. Take as long as you wish to find a different solution. And if you don’t find any, geas it is. And it’s not like you can’t lift it whenever you want.”

While she was not exactly thrilled with the prospect of putting such enchantments on me, she at least acknowledged with a nod that she was willing to consider it. And a ghost of a smile was all the expression of gratitude I needed to feel validated in my choice to offer it.

“Does that help?” I whispered before and after kissing her nose. “With the brooding, I mean?”

She smiled warmly. “A little.” On a whim, I continued to pepper her muzzle with tiny pecks, eventually eliciting a quiet giggle. “Am I allowed to turn over again now? My back is cold.”

I grinned. “It’s not. You’re just trying to flee my expression of love.” I pouted a little and enjoyed her tender smile. And I enjoyed the following kiss even more. “That gets me every time,” I whispered. “Fine. You may flop over.”

“Thank you.” As soon as she was done, I scooched closer and held her once more. We both sighed in unison, enjoying the company. And with the warmth and the softness of the bed, with us lying down, our sleepiness eventually returned, slowly creeping up on us. I had placed a few more little kisses on her neck and I was pretty sure that she had fallen asleep before I did. But what did that ultimately matter?

Bat ponies, my increasingly drowsy mind was repeating. Maybe I should talk to Luna about them before Celestia actually put a geas on me?

Home, Sweet Home

I was a firm believer that such a thing as ‘too much sleep’ did not exist. Furthermore, I was a creature of habit. Like most ponies were, really. I was just a little more oversensitive when something disturbed my habits. Sleeping habits, for example.

So when I woke up and still felt tired, I was inclined to blame the fact that we had retreated to bed in the afternoon, a rather unusual time for me, and that we had interrupted our sleep. Especially the entire fiasco with Ahuizotl was a thorn in my sleepy side.

But the dreamscape had been kind to me. Luna and I had a lot of time on our hooves. Few nightmares, few overzealous dreamscape creatures and we refrained from visiting the Tantabus until Spike and Twilight had everything ready to go. We talked a bunch. Visited Derpy and had a little tea party. It was nice. All around a nice, quiet night.

And really, waking up to these pale magenta eyes was something I cherished, tiredness or no. Exactly why Celestia watched me eluded me for now, but I had no urge to investigate just yet. I instead leaned forward. The rustle of my movement and our breathing were the only sounds in the tent. The ghost of a smile graced her lips when I pulled away again. “Mornin’!” I greeted her quietly with my best Applejack-impression.

And her smile grew a little stronger in reaction to it. “Good morning,” she replied. We both fell silent for a while. Something was on her mind again, I could see it. And I was more than willing to give her time to voice it. Or not. To make a decision about that, at least. And eventually, she did speak up. “How are you doing?”

“A little tired,” I admitted, ostentatiously interrupted by a yawn I failed to properly stifle. Her smile grew a notch more, accompanied by an amused glint in her eyes. Not what she wanted to hear then. Not what she was aiming at. I suspected that I already knew what this was about. But playing coy had been fun. I shrugged as best as I could. “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. Last night was admittedly weird. But I’m a Ponyvillian, remember? We’re used to weird things. There were three things happening and all of them are kinda ‘meh’ in their consequences right now. First off, we met a real-life novel antagonist. He seemed a little rough around the edges, but not quite as barbaric as he is portrayed in the books. Makes me rethink the whole ‘writer’s bias’-thing. A. K. Yearling writes about Daring Do’s adventures. From Daring Do’s perspective. That obviously tints the entire experience. It’s just… it’s easy to forget, you know? To get absorbed into that storyline and just… I had to stop and rethink. Reevaluate the stories I had consumed. Ahuizotl is a bit of a prick. But he’s no monster.”

“I never met him face to face,” Celestia replied as she drifted from one thought to another. “Maybe something good will come of this chance encounter. I like to believe that we may be able to open diplomatic discourse with these guardians. Especially now that I know where to find at least one of them.”

I grinned. “Right. Already working on the betterment of Equestria again. Even without wearing your regalia. That’s impressive. You know. Realizing that you really can’t pull the Princess out of Celestia, even though you can clearly pull Celestia out of the Princess.”

In a touch of childishness, she stuck out her tongue. And she really should have thought better of that. Then again, maybe she knew that I was only teasing her and waited for a reaction. I leaned in quickly like a snake and snatched her tongue between my lips. And gave it a little suck. She quickly pulled her tongue free and pulled her head back a little. “Ew,” she blurted out and we both had a giggle.

She nuzzled me after she regained our composure. “What about the other two?”

“Hm?” I hummed in a mixture of mild confusion and satisfaction. “Oh, right. Well, he revealed the whole ‘Elements are for everyone’-thing. Which… fair enough, I guess? It makes sense, at least. But it doesn’t change anything. Because he’s right. Right now, we have them. I don’t really know what the rest of the world looks like. In what state it is. What terrible dangers and doomsday weapons await out there. But for the past few years, Equestria had been a focal point of resurfacing villains and world-domination plans. I like to think that the Elements are in good hooves right now. And even if they are recalled at some point… I don’t think it’s actually a loss. We will get them back if we truly need them, right? So that whole revelation somehow doesn’t… it doesn’t feel all that impactful. Like… I realize that this should be huge. But it just isn’t. And then there’s the obvious elephant in the room. Bat ponies. They are real, apparently. But again, it’s just the same as with the Elements. So there’s a fourth tribe. Good to know, I guess? I don’t know anything about them. They don’t live in Equestria. As far as I know, anyway. It’s just… this huge, huge, huuuge revelation with… little to no impact. My world doesn’t change due to this. My daily life most likely won’t either. I mean… when Soft Step came out of these bushes, my first thought was literally: Huh. That’s not the kind of reaction you’re supposed to have when your world gets turned upside down, right? I think this might be a big thing for many ponies. Researchers and historians and whatnot. But I’m none of that. I was actually surprised that in all these years I have been patrolling the dreamscape alongside Luna, we never encountered a bat pony dreamer. I mean, with them being nocturnal, right, that makes sense. But even then, they just don’t seem to be all that… troubled, you know? And I don’t think that Luna ever really tried to subtly push me away from one. Since subtlety really isn’t her style. Maybe that says a lot about their civilization these days. Or how few of them are really out there. And in a way, it’s fun speculating about that. But it’s little more than that. Sooo… if you were worried about me falling into yet another existential crisis, I am proud to disappoint you. My homemade crises are way better anyway, they really shake you to the core.”

That little smirk I put into that last sentence went a long way to lighten the mood somewhat again. It had not darkened of course, but the entire topic just seemed to be a little burdensome. Celestia smiled, warm and tender and genuine and I loved that smile. I sighed deeply. Happily.

“Did you tell her?” she asked after a couple of comfortable, quiet moments.

“Luna?” I asked innocently, but she just raised one eyebrow ever so slightly. “Would it matter? Surely you had thought about this possibility before we went back to bed.” After all, she was nothing if not thorough and judicious.

“No,” she simply replied, much to my surprise.

“You haven’t thought about it?” I asked just to confirm what was already said.

She sighed. “I have not. I like to believe that you are intelligent enough to consider long-term consequences. Maybe not on the same scale and with the same precision as myself, but you have always been respectful of my work and my wishes. And I want to trust you.”

She was getting serious again and I was having none of that. “Aha!” I quipped. “So this is about you trusting me. So there’s obviously a right and a wrong answer here!”

She sighed. “Please, could you just answer?”

My efforts were apparently in vain this time. I sighed a little. “You said it yourself, love. ‘Respectful of your work and wishes’, yadda yadda yadda. I got your back. I didn’t tell her.” I saw a little bit of relief wash over her and I hoped that with this out of the way, our morning could be a little more chipper. “Sooo… how are you doing yourself? While I don’t mind our little breakfast- and dinner-setup, it’s… it’s charming. Really. In a very makeshift, crude way. If you’re feeling up to it, I wouldn’t mind returning home though.”

Nothing seemed to change much for a moment until she pulled me in for a hug. I nestled close to her and enjoyed the embrace for all it was worth. “We should head home,” she whispered and I simply agreed with a nod and placed a kiss on her throat.

“There's something I had to think about last night, before we fell asleep again,“ I teased her.

“Oh? What might that have been?“

I pulled back just enough so that I could see her reaction. “A geas is basically the mental version of you pulling ropes and blindfolds out on me,“ I murmured with a grin. “I came to the conclusion that I might not mind that at all...“

She looked a little perplexed for a few seconds and a lovely red tint colored her cheeks. Yes! Cracked that mask! While I cheered internally, she recomposed herself a little bit. Just a little bit. And her lips tugged upwards in a playful smile. “Is that so?“ she softly teased in reply. She leaned in and her lips closed around the tip of my ear. She applied the faintest bit of pressure before suddenly biting down a little bit harder. It was faintly painful, but more importantly sent a shiver down my spine. “Interesting,“ she noted while her hot breath tickled my ear. “Lucky me then, since we do have a few more days left to ourselves.“ She was a relentless tease. I already suspected that she would use little opportunities here and there throughout the day to rile me up and quite honestly, I was looking forward to it. Both the teasing and the eventual payoff.

We climbed out of bed and for one final time made our way upstairs and busied ourselves with our morning routines. We stepped out of the tent shortly after and into the oppressing heat of the day. I felt a grim satisfaction as I defied this heat here and now, knowing full well that these might very well be the last minutes I spent in this dreaded jungle. I was not going to miss it.

I made Rarity’s tent collapse with the proper command word and it refold itself into its less heavy, less impractical form. It still weighed a good deal, but knowing what luxuries waited inside, that was nothing. “Borrowing this thing was the best decision I made in this entire adventure,” I half-joked and levitated it over to my back. “And I’m going to show Rares my gratitude by… I don’t know… kissing her a thousand times or something.” Playing along to my tease, Celestia cleared her throat and I grinned a little wider. “On her cheek, of course.”

“That sounds like very sore lips,” she argued.

“And very sore cheeks, I suppose,” I added with a chuckle. “Hey… would you look at that?” Just by pure happenstance, I had shuffled my hoof around a little and there was the tiniest green thing poking through the soot and ashes. I bent my knees to lower myself down further and got a closer look at it. In retrospect however, I had no idea why I had done that. It was a plant. A seedling of some kind. I was no botanist, I had no idea what that was and getting a closer look did not help at all. Despite the random idiocy, I still smiled as I rose back up again. “The jungle really isn’t wasting any time. I bet there’s a bunch of greenery under this layer already.”

Celestia smiled serenely. “Life finds a way.”

The quote hit me so unexpectedly that I broke out in laughter. “Did you really just throw that quote at me?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” she claimed while she raised her head a little. And she had the most adorable pout I had ever seen on her face... and flicked her tail across my muzzle.

“D’aw, I could never stay mad at such a pretty pony princess!” I teased her a little more and nestled against her. And I snickered as I saw her puff out her cheeks. I pulled away and with a little spark of magic guided her muzzle down to me. “I love you.”

“That is so unfair,” she quietly sighed, but ultimately relented anyway. “I love you too.” And just as we pulled apart, she gave my lower lip a little nip.

I grinned. “You’ll have pranked me threefold by next week so my current pity is somewhat limited,” I whispered.

I took in the panorama of the Forbidden Jungle one last time. The dense vegetation surrounded us on all sides like the waves of an ocean, curved in soft slopes and hills, forming the occasional crest. It was an impressive landscape. One I would happily admire in paintings and pictures. Those were less hot, and less humid, and less stuffed with insects that were trying to eat me alive.

I did notice Soft Step though. “Huh. Look who’s come to say goodbye,” I said and pointed a hoof in his direction to make Sunny aware of him, “Or to make sure that we get the heck out of here.” I waved at him with a grin and he waved back with enthusiasm. Despite probably being tired beyond words. “You know… I think he likes me.”

Celestia giggled softly. “Is that so? And do you like him as well?”

“I’m… I’m usually a little more reserved,” I started and shifted a little uncomfortably. “He seems nice enough for what I know? I just don’t—“ And it had taken me that long to finally notice that mischievous tone in her voice. I glanced up at her and saw that playful mirth dancing around in her eyes. “Urgh. Not like that, you lecherous old mare!”

And she laughed.

She had always been a mare of self-restraint. Of control and composure. She smiled. A lot. It was part of her job, to a certain extent, to perfect a wide variety of smiles for a wide variety of situations. Some diplomatic in nature. Others less so. And in a way, this requirement had a snowball effect on her genuine smiles. The one Celestia sported and not the Princess.

But it was rare to hear her laugh. Actually, genuinely laugh. It was such a beautiful sound.

“I cannot help it,” she claimed once she had calmed down a little. “Despite my demands, my sister seems to forget time and again that I asked her not to tell me about all the things you two get up to… firecracker.”

I was genuinely shocked. I stared at her, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open, unable to process any thoughts, while a crushing wave of heat lit up my cheeks and ears and everything else that was even remotely able to blush.

How could she…?!

Luna must have known what she was doing. There was no way she did not. No way.

I felt a little like dying due to embarrassment and I failed to unfreeze myself. Celestia eventually noticed that her little quip had been a tad too much. “Goodness, I might have miscalculated that,” she murmured more to herself than to me. She pulled me against her side with a wing and charged her horn.

We reappeared in her bedchamber in Canterlot Palace. And I was quickly ushered to said bed. I could not tell what I was even thinking. Maybe nothing at all, actually. I was just frozen and it took some time to get out of that state. I eventually managed to shake myself free and slowly raised my head to meet her gaze. “C-Could you… uhm… n-not use that name again… p-please?” I asked with the meekest voice I had ever heard from myself.

Celestia sat right in front of me. With me being propped up on the bed and her sitting on her haunches before it, we were almost on eye level. Almost. And I still found it difficult to look up. There was a mixture of embarrassment and panic twisting my stomach, with miniscule traces of anger and indignation. I really ought to have a talk with Luna later on…

She had crossed a line here. One I admittedly had not been aware of. And while I was very panicky right now, a smaller, more relaxed part of me knew that eventually, I would cool down, calm down and we would sit down and talk about this like mature adults. With a lot less drama and tension than I currently envisioned.

But such things were hard to believe in the heat of the moment.

Lucky for me, Celestia knew me quite well. An apology had probably been her first impulse, but she knew that it would sail straight over my head. In one side, out the other, with no effect whatsoever. In situations like these, I tended to react more favorably to actions. And since she was not about to slap me, kissing me had probably been the next best option. One I did not mind at all.

It was admittedly hard to enjoy it at first. She told her. Luna told her. What is she thinking of me now? I dared not to look her in the eyes out of insecurity and shame. But our lips met and it sent a shock through my entire body. It felt like short-circuiting. As my brain slowly restarted, I melted more and more into her embrace and into her kiss. Until I inevitably felt the urge to become a little bit more proactive. But as soon as I pressed into her and tried to pull her up onto the bed with me, she pulled away.

I was not pouting. Not at all.

“I am sorry,” she apologized with a guilty smile. “I had not intended to make you feel uncomfortable.”

I grimaced a little. “It’s… been less than a month or so. Since she coined that pet name.” Because this was clearly about the name. And not about what it was associated with. I sighed and shook my head. “It’s alright, I just got caught in a headlight.” I looked around and only now truly realized we had teleported back home. With this jungle adventure coming to a close, it felt strange to return here. For these first few minutes, it felt like returning to a life long lost or left behind. As if it had been years since last we had shared this bed, or stepped hoof into this room.

According to the light filtering in through the windows, it was late morning. A whole day ahead of us. I still felt tired though. And the shock still rattled my bones a little which contributed to the exhaustion. I considered just falling onto my back and sleeping. But I knew there were tasks waiting.

Depluming Luna at some point, for example. But the more immediate ones that sprang to mind were mostly related to Rarity’s tent. I needed to refill her salt- and pepper shaker. I needed to clean her rugs, her bedsheets, her bed-everything. I still had to clean the bedside table’s feet from soot, and I needed to wash the entire blanket we had used. Restocking the upstairs bathroom, and maybe even researching what her little collection of concentrated flavors was worth. Maybe I could add a couple as a little ‘thank you’.

“I should get started on the tent,” I mumbled.

Celestia had waited patiently and nodded. “Alright. I will talk to the guards at the door and inform them of our return — and that I do not wish to be disturbed yet, aside from emergencies. I will also take care of a few other little things.”

“Sounds good,” I replied absentmindedly as I already worked on my checklist of what to do in which order.

She walked over to the door and soon after, I heard her converse with the guards outside. I did not make out any words, as I focused more on my own after-vacation-business. Her bedchamber was decadent both in the materials used to construct it, the art used to decorate it, as well as its sheer dimensions. The ceiling, for example, was high enough for me to open Rarity’s tent in here. It admittedly took away most of the free space the room had left, but I just needed to enter it and fetch all the things that needed cleaning. Soon enough, a little pile formed just outside the tent as I diligently worked my way through the ground floor and finally the upstairs. I returned outside with my armor as I had discarded that in the bathroom last night when we returned from our encounter. And that was the last piece.

With everything outside now, the tent collapsed once more and I started sorting the pile of work. I had a lot more piles soon enough, but at least things were organized. Our Neverend bottles stood on a little table nearby. I was curious about how much water was still inside them but I refrained from testing that. I could play around with the smaller parts later on. Work first. The rest of the Allfood was lying right beside the bottles. It would have been enough for another three days, maybe. More if we had continued to stretch our supplies with whatever we managed to scavenge from the jungle. I made a little note on a piece of paper and stuck it to the rest of the Allfood to remind myself to tell Luna — and possibly the kitchen staff — about our little experimentation with Allfood stew and other variants. Quite frankly though, despite this stuff being a really good option as a field ration, I was glad that I would not have to see or eat any of it for quite some time. And I looked forward to Spike's cuisine sooo much.

The biggest pile was all the stuff that needed washing, of course. I considered my two primary options — those being to sully my love’s bathroom and do it myself or burden the castle staff with even more work, but thereby ensuring it would be done with the best quality possible. I was then suddenly picked up by telekinesis.

“Uhm… I’m in the middle of something here…?” I half-heartedly protested. The Allfood would not spoil for another few weeks, at least. The bedsheets would not run away. There was no urgency to my task, per se. It was just my sense of duty preventing me from not protesting.

My curiosity as to where she carried me was quickly sated. The bathroom apparently. And Celestia put me down right at the edge of her ludicrously sized bathtub. “Well, yes,” I started, “I can see both the appeal and the necessity of a bath. However, I was thinking that maybe I get that work outside done beforehoof? Before I get soot all over my coat?”

Celestia sat down beside me while the water flooded the tub and applied some really nice smelling oils to it. At length, she finally turned to me and her smile grew a little. “I informed just about anypony I needed to inform of anything. The castle staff will take care of our laundry, the guards will inform my sister of our return and the kitchen staff will have something nice waiting for us as soon as we return to my chamber.”

“I could have washed it myself,” I grumbled quietly and puffed my cheeks up. It was about the principle really, I did not insist on doing it myself.

“You could have,” she replied and immediately called it, “but you do not truly wish to. There is a reason Spike is doing the laundry at Twilight’s castle. And as much as I think that Rarity would have appreciated the effort and personal touch, I think she will appreciate this even more.”

I slumped a little against her. “Fine.” She was not wrong, of course. Spike would not even allow Twilight to even help with laundry. Last time she had tried to automate the process by animating all the tools. It looked fun at first. Until it did not anymore. And while I was not exactly exiled from the laundry room, I rarely asked to help him either. It was just such a tedious task. That being said, I saw no reason to admit to any of that. Especially at this moment.

Once the water level was sufficiently high, we walked in and sighed both deeply as the warm water enveloped us. For just a moment, I chuckled about the absurdity of the situation. I could not stand the heat in the jungle, but this water was probably even hotter than the air in there and it was most certainly wetter, but this was fine and the jungle was not.

Ah well.

I fetched a sponge with my magic when said sponge was suddenly taken from me by a considerably stronger aura. “Thief,” I muttered. A moment later a splash of water poured down on my muzzle.

“No name-calling, or I will think twice about being nice to you,” she chided me from behind. She lathered my back with soap before she brushed the sponge along its length.

It was such a blissful sensation that I involuntarily shuddered a little. If this was what was waiting for me, I would be at my best manners. And indeed, she took her time and helped me clean up a bit. I sighed in deep contentment when she washed my mane using her hooves instead of her telekinesis. It felt heavenly. And I sighed. Again and again.

She was done eventually, of course. Or rather I was. It took me a couple of seconds to realize and break out of that stupor. “That… that was sooo nice,” I whispered before I turned around and kissed her deeply. “My turn,” I cooed.

She knew better than to object and I got to work with just about the same dedication and care as she had shown me before. Preening was usually something best done lying down on a bed or at least when wings were dry, but cleaning her wings and straightening out feathers under these conditions was an interesting experience as well. I scrubbed her back, employed a few massage techniques as well, and her sides, her neck, her belly and eventually arrived at her rump. She hummed and sighed appreciatively every now and then and it was more than clear how utterly relaxed she was.

I was still determined to top that.

With the same care I had deployed so far, I cleaned and rinsed her tail. And I made use of the simple fact that even in its ethereal state, her tail — if wet — clung to her flank. With both hooves placed firmly on her cutie mark, I gave her a tentative, long lick and listened as her initial, quiet gasp turned into a soft, barely audible moan. And knowing that she was open to the idea was all I needed to know, really.

In the end, our bath had taken more than an hour, maybe even two. But we were technically still on vacation. Free to do what we wanted. Free to laze around. We emerged back into her chamber and just as she had announced previously, there was a trolley waiting for us with little metal domes covering our still warm food.

“I believe they call it brunch,” Celestia mused while we laid down on her bed with the trolley pulled up to its edge.

I nodded. “Yupp. Breakfast and lunch. Too late for the former, to early for the latter. I honestly never quite understood the need for this title. It’s a meal. Does it matter when exactly you have it? I mean, the kitchen staff would probably hunt me down for that. Something about how you’re only supposed to eat certain things at certain times of day. It’s all just a big pile of hooey.”

She giggled beside me while she simultaneously let her primaries lazily trail along my back. “’Hooey’? Really?”

I thought about it for a moment, but ultimately shrugged. “What? Too much Applejack?”

“Hm. Maybe,” she replied with a smile before biting down on another piece of bruschetta.

“You do realize that AJ doesn’t have a monopoly on idioms and weird curses and whatnot, right?” I asked with a lopsided grin.

“I am not quite so sure. Have you told her?” she teased right back. “You know, I am The Princess Celestia, I could just give her a monopoly on ‘idioms and weird curses and whatnot’…”

I snorted. “Day Court would have your hide for it. That’s way too much trouble to be worth the effort.”

“Are you calling me lazy?” she asked with a slightly threatening tone while she gave me her best indignant expression.

I leaned over and nipped at her neck. “Nope. I’m calling you resourceful. Totally different thing.”

I held her gaze for a couple of seconds before we both giggled. “I might make a diplomat of you yet…”

“Pch, not a chance,” I immediately refused with a chuckle. There was a short lull in our conversation where we simply continued to eat at a slow pace before I addressed something that had randomly popped into my head. “Say, with our return here, you’re in charge. Right? We talked about that. So I don’t mind a good, long bath, or lazing around with you. I love that. But I was wondering if there’s a plan to this?”

“Well yes, I have given it some thought,” she replied and bit down on a grape and enjoyed the juicy mixture of sweet and sour. “You are free to take me out to dinner tomorrow evening. And I will treat you to another play at the orchestra afterwards. Sounds good?”

I grinned. “Already love it. Although I can’t help but notice that there’s a couple of hours unaccounted for until tomorrow evening.”

“Indeed,” she agreed, “I have yet to find a sufficiently appealing idea for tomorrow's earlier hours.”

“Alright. What about today then?” I inquired with a chuckle.

She sighed with a little more pathos than was strictly necessary to make her point. “To be honest, long-range teleportation does take a lot out of a mare and I will admit that after these last days, I have grown somewhat weary of running around, be it in jungles or otherwise. Do you still feel tired?”

“I do,” I admitted, but quickly added, “But it’s not too bad. I could go for whatever you have in mind.”

I had initially planned to be supportive of whatever idea she had. But when she turned her head to face me, I noticed that glint of a very specific playfulness in her eyes. “Is that so?” she asked and her voice grew quieter and gained an edge. “And here I thought our bath had exhausted you a little.” She leaned over further and slowly started to loom over me. “That will not do.”

Caught in indecisiveness between a chuckle and a gulp, I just did both and grinned. “I think I like where this is going…” Any further words would have been muffled anyway as she captured me for a hungry kiss that quickly grew more and more passionate. However, I had no intention of becoming her little morsel. As she tried to push me onto my back, I dared to defy her. In the middle of it, I quickly pulled away. “Ladies first,” I quipped before reconnecting. She did not seem opposed to the idea at first.

But my ‘plan’ to tire her out to the point where I could claim undisputed victory over her failed miserably as well as she quickly caught onto that.

I was utterly spent by the end of it. I clung to her side and wished I could purr like a kitten — so like Luna tended to do —, even though I had my doubts I would have had the energy left to do even that. My love was no better off herself. “I could go for another bath,” she murmured and after a second or two of silence, we both giggled.

“Later,” I promised.

“Are you tired now, love?” she asked with an undertone that I was ready to perceive as a threat this time, even if it was not meant as one.

“Very much so, yes,” I replied with a happy sigh and leaned over to nuzzle her shoulder. “I will, to my very last breath, stubbornly insist that I can’t get enough of you… but right now, sleepy time sounds nice…”

“I see no reason not to mix sleepy time and snuggle time,” she replied even quieter as she slowly drifted off. “Ropes and blindfolds will have to wait for later.“

“Hmmm… I love the sound of that…” I checked one last time that I was nestled as close to her as I could and that I held her tightly to me before I let my own eyes fall shut. What had I learned from my very first adventure?, I wondered, while consciousness slowly faded. Well. Mostly that I preferred my less tedious indoor-adventures. And that we needed to go on more vacations.

And that I would stuff a pillow with Luna’s feathers.

A True, True Friend

Two days, some minor preparations, a little bit of organizational back and forth and one quite boring train ride later and I weaved my way through the streets of Canterlot. Considering the length of the train ride, it was still somewhat early, being around noon. And I was quite happy. I even considered whistling a little tune, even though I ultimately decided against it and just left it at that little spring in my step that I could feel.

It was a great day. Though judging by the soured faces here and there, few ponies shared that sentiment. A light gray cloud cover hung in the sky, being quite stubborn as several groups of pegasi hastily tried to get rid of it. A faint drizzle started and stopped every few minutes. My coat was damp after the first time, and dripping wet after the second. My saddlebags held out a little longer, but ultimately, they were not waterproof. This pair was not, anyway.

But I did not mind the rain. It was cold, sure. And wet — duh. But summer was coming and this was a respite from the heat of the last few days and I cherished it as such. The long faces all around me primarily told me one thing: This had not been planned or scheduled.

Canterlot’s inhabitants were very, very used to knowing exactly what would happen in the next couple of days, weeks, months. They did not like being surprised. And they did not like things not going according to plan either. And maybe it was not exactly the friendliest reaction of mine, but I couldn't help but smile a little wider just because of knowing this. And seeing this.

I arrived at my stage finish — Donut Joe’s place. I tried to get rid of at least some of the water before stepping in, but quickly realized the futility of that endeavor and gave up on it.

That familiar little copper bell above the door made a nice and welcoming sound. At the same time, the scent of sugary goodness wafted by my nostrils. I did notice for a moment how oddly different it smelled from Sugarcube Corner. Pinkie sometimes told me that she could navigate the town with a blindfold just by smell — which quite frankly sounded a bit disturbing and a bit disgusting. But maybe this was what she had been speaking about. Did all bakeries have their own, distinctive smell?

I stood just behind the door after it closed and quickly scanned the room. Customers galore, probably refugees from the horrible, terrible, mystifying drizzle outside. But I had no intention of staying. And there he was, right behind the counter. He just finished up delivering another order when he raised his head and glanced in my direction. Or the direction of the entrance, more like, as it was certainly the bell that had drawn his attention.

Joe was impressively built. He could have been a distant cousin of Big Macintosh. Heck, maybe he was. I wondered if he would still—

“Hey there, buddy! What can I do for you?” he greeted in his usual, slightly bellowing voice.

And I smiled. Buddy. The way he greeted most of his customers. New ones, unfamiliar ones. I did not even feel offended in the slightest. The fact of the matter was that I came by way too rarely for him to remember me. And I did look quite unremarkable.

The floor around the entrance was wet. And slippery. He had tried to compensate by laying out some towels, which were all wet as well and ponies coming and going had moved them around quite a bit. It was a mess. But he seemed to appreciate me standing there for a moment before walking over to the counter anyway. “Hey Joe,” I finally greeted him. “I’m in a pickle. You see, I have to crack a very stubborn nut. I'm not entirely sure what she likes. But I was hoping some of your famous goods might do the trick and play the part of my nutcracker. Any advice?”

He gave a loud, hearty laugh before dimming it down to a chuckle, as to not further disturb the other customers. “I see. Well, tell me about this stubborn nut.”

“Bookworm. Recluse. Really tries to not have humor. Or emotions aside from annoyance.” I chuckled a little as I saw his face scrunch up.

“You sure you wanna go after that one? Sounds like a lot of work,” he asked.

And at that point, I luckily noticed how he understood my request. It had admittedly been poor phrasing on my part. “Oh. Oh no, I’m not after her. I want to mollify her, so that she can help me with something.”

He quietly chuckled once more and nodded. “Gotcha. Well, in that case, I still have a few cupcakes from my latest experimentation around. Tomato, basil and oregano. A lot less sweet, of course. Your mare doesn’t strike me as the sweets-kinda-mare. Herbal. A bit spicy due to the chili powder on top. And the little wrapper contains most of the mess. It’s less sticky than donuts, too.”

I thought it was a really good pitch. And he was obviously trying hard to pitch it, which was what confused me a little. “They’re not going so well, I take it? Can’t fathom why though. They sound tasty.”

He shrugged with a good-hearted smile. “Well, ponies ‘round these parts don’t like surprises much. It proved hard to convince anypony to try them. But those that did were quite enthusiastic, so I’m now betting on word of mouth.”

I dared to look over my shoulder, and out the massive window, where another drizzle seemed to have started recently. A small chuckle escaped my own throat. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure those few minutes of rain, if you would even call it that, has ruined a lot of ponies’ perfectly planned days.” I really should have kept quiet about that. First of all, I was in a shop with a lot of customers within earshot, most of which were probably here because of that exact reason. And secondly… I was one to talk! It just so happened that this inconvenience did not interfere with my plans.

Joe, on the other hoof, tried to stifle a chuckle, being a bit more aware of his surroundings than I was. “’S far as I can tell, half of Canterlot is up in arms about it. Heard that something went wrong with the weather team’s schedule or something.”

I nodded a little absentmindedly before refocusing my attention. “Right. Sorry for spacing out. About those cupcakes — I’ll take two. No wait, I’m actually pretty sure she’s constantly forgetting to eat. I know somepony quite similar to her and she has the same problem. Make it three.”

Joe grinned. “Lucky me, ‘cause three’s all I got left anyway. Be right back.”

The timing really was perfect. The moment Joe returned, I shoved a little pile of bits over the counter with a smile and a “Keep the change!” and the little copper bell rang out once more to announce the entrance of another refugee. Or customer. Probably both.

I stored my sacrificial offerings away, bid my goodbyes and made for the door. And as I opened it, the drizzle stopped. I could not help but look up for just a second and scan the cloud cover for any traces of Rainbow or Derpy. But while I saw a lot of pegasi hard at work, I saw none of the familiar faces or hides. The cloud blanket had a couple of holes here and there though. It was a rather strange sight, almost like a chess board.

I just shrugged and made my way to my next destination: The palace. I moved past the main gate and into the labyrinthine hallways without any of the guards batting an eye and after some time found the guest room in the east wing that I usually used nowadays. When I had a need for my own room to begin with, that is. Which was extremely rare anyway.

I unloaded parts of my saddlebags and made the room ready for a couple of days of stay. The idea of sleeping alone was not all that appealing, but I needed focus for those next days and with Celestia or Luna around, I would get distracted. A lot. Quite willingly.

After leaving my room again barely a couple of minutes later, I once again made my way through hallways, down stairs, and across sections of the castle I rarely if ever set hoof in. Until I arrived in front of a massive grate that functioned as a double door.

“Good—“ I tried to greet the two Day Guards stationed here, but had to stop myself and actually check a window for the time of day. “Afternoon! Good afternoon, guys.” Before I turned my gaze from the window back to them, I heard one of them stifle an amused snort. I could not tell which of the two had been responsible, but I figured he was still young. A little sloppy on the finer details of his training. His comrade would probably berate him on that as soon as I was out of earshot. But for now, I just grinned and passed through.

The Canterlot Royal Archives. Basically a very fancy title for a very fancy library. A multi-story library with several sections with restricted access and a dozen librarians with wildly varying levels of clearance. They wore little, color-coded bands around their necks. It helped those in the know to address the right pony, and it worked as a sort of key card as well, opening sections they were allowed to open. A simple enchantment made sure that only the librarian could actually use the band, otherwise theft of it would have led to some problems. Then again — it probably had at some point and that was why the enchantment had been established as standard.

Despite the majority of the Royal Archives being publicly accessible, few ever bothered to come here. Celestia had told me at one point that she felt a little disappointed about that, as the Archives were meant as another point of teaching and distribution of knowledge. But over the course of centuries, other libraries within the city had sprung up and taken over. They were more centralized, easier to reach, and supposedly easier to navigate.

I could not understand that last point though. I had never had any issues navigating the Archives. Then again, I lived with Twilight, so there was that.

What I loved most about the Archives was the smell. Something I cherished about any and all libraries. Something I loved about Twilight. This smell of dust and paper and ink. The smell of history. Of knowledge. The smell of Old. It was enticing. Luring me into the many side corridors I passed by. Promising me a good time if I would just stop, pick a book, a random book, any book, and start to dig in.

But I did not have that kind of time. I needed to stay focused and find that one grumpy librarian.

And another thing I cherished helped me along the way. As with most libraries, excessive noise could get one kicked out. Ponies came here to read and learn. And that was something done best in silence. I did not like the hustle and bustle of larger cities in part due to how loud everything was. But in here, one could hear the slight rustle of a single page being turned. It was a good way of navigating, too — when searching for somepony.

With the rather infrequent visitors, I knew what most librarians did. New books arrived on a weekly basis, to be sorted away. And the occasional reader left his books behind without properly sorting them back in. Some scrolls, maps and books stored here needed tender care to endure the times. But with a dozen librarians, there was just never enough work to go around. Celestia refused to let any of them go. She refused to reduce the number of librarians as well, knowing full well that most of them killed their time by reading.

The ponies working here were scholars in their own right, and only grew more knowledgeable over the years of their service to the nation.

I finally found the one I had been searching for. She was sitting on a table, surrounded by three columns of books, one she had her muzzle buried in. Despite the huge windows spending precious daylight, an additional firefly lantern stood lit beside her. Maybe she had been reading throughout the entirety of last night and had not noticed the arrival of a new day yet. It would not have surprised me much.

I stepped closer, knowing she would notice me now. But unsurprisingly, she refused to acknowledge it. “Moooniiieee,” I sang in a whisper.

She grimaced. “I am not going to react to that ridiculous abbreviation of my name!” she spat offended.

“Come now, Moonie. Don’t be grumpy. I’ve brought you something,” I continued. I levitated the small paper bag out of my saddlebags and put it down on the table. Carefully. A good distance away from her book towers, the book she was currently reading, her inkwell, her feather, her lantern, her notes she was currently writing and anything else. Truly, there was not exactly a lot of space on this table to put the damn things. But I managed.

She took one glance at the logo of Joe’s on the bag and grimaced even harder. “You are bringing that sticky, sugar-laden mess into my library and hope for… what, exactly? My eternal gratitude?”

Her belly rumbled a little. So I was probably right. She had been here all night. Which probably meant she had skipped breakfast. And lunch. And maybe even dinner last evening. How that mare was still in such an attractive shape was beyond my comprehension. “Well technically it’s not your—“

“I’d be very careful about how I end that sentence if I were you,” she interrupted me harshly, completely ignoring her mourning stomach and my teasing tone.

I quietly chuckled a little. Maybe she was extra-grumpy because she was extra-hungry. But taking over the entire Archives as hers was a bold move. She was not even the chief librarian. “Alright, alright, fine. You may have the Archives, and your peace. I won’t bother you further.” I opened the paper bag. Just a second or two, to let a little cloud of that enticing scent escape and mingle with the surrounding air, so that it would eventually reach her nose. After closing it again, I stored it back in my saddlebags and slowly turned, walking away.

I could hear her grind her teeth in mild frustration. I could hear her belly give a grumbling whine for her mercy. And finally, I could hear a barely stifled groan and a deep sigh. “Dreamwalker, wait.”

I stopped, turned around and probably sported the smuggest smile I had in the last weeks. “Yes, Moondancer?”

The proper use of her name seemed to appease her even further. I could see the impulse was there to just groan again and smash her head on the desk. She would never do that, of course. Bad behavior. Especially for a librarian.

With a gesture, she offered me a place at her desk. I levitated the paper bag over to her, so that she may inspect the non-sticky, less-sugar-laden non-mess, while I went a couple of rows of bookshelves further to fetch myself a second chair.

When I returned to the table, three cupcakes sat perfectly undevoured on the neatly folded paper bag. I grinned in triumph, but was wise enough not to comment on it. “They smell fantastic, don’t they?”

She swallowed, and gave a defeated nod. “They do. And I have to apologize. While this solution is certainly not perfect, you clearly tried to be mindful of this setting.”

I shook my head. “Nah, don’t. Honestly, I’m just glad I can keep you from starving for a week longer or so. You eat dust mites and unpleasant customers in the meantime, right? I can’t explain how you survive otherwise.”

And I could see the first cracks form when she tried and failed to suppress a smile while answering. “I can assure you, I survive on feeding on your despair alone. It’s quite filling every time you drop by.”

“Despair?” I shot right back and furrowed my brow. “I think you got your words mixed up. Don’t worry, there’s no reason to panic. Happens to the best of us. But I think you might have confused ‘despair’ with ‘affection’.”

“I do not confuse words!” she immediately protested, before the rest sank in and she blushed and struggled for words.

It was true, of course. I quite liked her. But goodness gracious, she was work. As far as I remembered, I had never had the dubious pleasure of interacting with the super-shy Fluttershy of the early years. I had only ever heard the horror stories. They were quite funny these days, even Fluttershy herself giggled. But there was a difference between these two. Fluttershy had been just that. Extremely shy. But kind. Soft-spoken, and soft-hearted. Moondancer was made from tougher stuff. Her social ineptitude was the product of lacking experience. And where Fluttershy had eventually started to struggle against these chains, Moondancer seemed quite content with them most of the time. She had her library, she had her books, her fellow librarians. And after the incident a couple years back, in which Twilight reconnected with her old friends from Canterlot, she was set straight by her friends. Work started at some point — and it usually ended at some point. She still was not a social butterfly, but she occasionally met Minuette for a cup of tea in one of Canterlot’s many corner cafés, or planned a little get-together with Twilight for a weekend of unrestrained, nerdy science. She did things other than being a recluse and reading.

But it was not quite what they all had hoped for. There were no rainbows involved, no magical transformation, no sudden switch flipped. She did not just return to society as a changed mare.

And that was fine. That was okay. As long as she was happy, truly happy, then that was okay. And by now, most of us knew that her grumpiness was just a defensive exterior. I had tried to coax her out into the open a little more on occasion, with mixed results. The fact of the matter was: Just like with Joe, I was not around nearly often enough to make a significant difference. I did my part. The best I could do. But I just had to hope that somepony else would take her on and win her over.

I just dropped by on occasion, fed her and reminded her of the existence of the concept of sleep, teased her a bunch and usually asked for her help in one thing or another. Which was probably why she became suspicious after a long moment. “What do you want?” she asked. Without a word, I put a hoof on the paper bag and carefully slid it the smallest smidge in her direction, still with both cupcakes on top. “You are not here just to stuff me.”

Seeing another opening for a tease, I grinned. “No, but I have to contribute my part to keep that lovely shape of yours intact.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, despite the faint tint in her cheeks and picked up another cupcake, carefully eating it without letting a single crumb fall. After she was done, she looked at me expectantly, but I just wordlessly insisted on the third one. “I thought—“ she started, but stopped herself, furrowing her brow and inspecting the cupcake further.

And I could apparently read minds after all. “I don’t mind sharing with you, Moonie. And I had initially planned on eating one, too. But I can just walk to the castle kitchen and ask if they would be so kind as to make me a sandwich. You, on the other hoof, would not consider that. And even if you would, you would not do that. And even if you would like to do that, you would tell yourself ‘after the next chapter’ and then forget all about it. How many meals have you skipped this time? It’s a cupcake, Moonie. Not an entire three-layer cake. Come on. Dig in. Or don’t. Maybe keep it for later. Just don't... let it go to waste. That would be a shame.”

She stared at the third cupcake and her rapidly changing expression was a lot harder to read this time. She finally settled into defeat once again, with traces of gratitude. And indeed, she picked it up in her levitation, and put it back into the paper bag. In a couple of hours, when she might remember it being there, it would taste a lot staler than it would now. But that would matter little to her. It would be a nice reminder.

Or at least that was what I was hoping for.

“Now that you have—“ she started, only to interrupt herself again. She blushed a little and pushed past the embarrassment of whatever she was thinking. “Now that that is done — what do you want?”

“I need your help,” I freely admitted.

“Figured as much,” she deadpanned.

“I’m trying to come up with a present,” I continued undisturbed. “I’ve already settled on the idea of crafting something. The smithy in the cellar is well-equipped and should do just fine, but I don’t want to make something out of just regular old iron or something ordinary like that. I was hoping you could help me find a material index.”

Moondancer fell quiet for a good while and I could see the cogs spinning. So I kept my muzzle shut as well and instead looked around a bit, taking in the scenery, so to speak. Massive bookshelves, stuffed with knowledge of thousands of years, maps of all regions of the continent, scrolls containing the accounts of contemporary witnesses. I knew that Twilight could get excited about libraries. In more than just the ‘yay, books!’-way that was to be expected. And while I never did quite understand how this connected to her arousal, in moments like these — I could almost feel it myself. It was so impressive, just sitting here, looking at it all, imagining what it might contain, what it stood for, what it meant. The entirety of ponykind, working hoof in hoof, documenting history, beasts and monsters, events and natural phenomena, and bringing it all together in an attempt to better understand their world. Such hunger for knowledge. Such drive to take control. Such—

“Haremean’s Guide to Metallurgy, Volume Two,” Moondancer interrupted my musings.

“Uh… come again?”

She sighed. “Wait here.” And without even waiting on an answer, she got up and left. Lost within the hallways, walls of books and secrets. It only took her about two minutes to return though. A minotaur always knew how to navigate his own labyrinth, after all. What she carried with her was an impressively large tome floating in her aura behind her. “There.” She carefully set it down on the table, thereby covering what little empty space had been left. It was obvious that she expected me to take it and go someplace else. Another desk within the library would suffice. But she wanted to read in peace and silence and I would certainly not help with either.

So I stood up, looked at the massive book and then smiled in her direction. “Thank you. You’re a gem!”

She quietly groaned. “Yes, yes, just take it and—“

She immediately shut up when I stepped up to her and hugged her. I was well aware that this could go one of two ways. Either she was fine with it, or she was not. It was a sudden intrusion upon her privacy, I knew that. But I also knew how it felt, wanting to be physically close to others but not daring to ask for it. Wanting something as simple as a hug, but feeling your own inhibitions rise up to deny you what you truly needed.

I was prepared to get a shove, or to be somehow quietly yelled at. A special librarian power, I assumed. And I was relieved twice as much when, after a brief period of her realizing what was happening, she did neither. She instead endured. And after a moment longer, she started to figuratively melt into the embrace, even daring to nuzzle into my mane.

We stayed close together for a minute, maybe two, or three. I could not tell. I had initially considered staying with her for however long it would take. However long she felt she needed it. Up to the point when she would inevitably remember our surroundings, and retract to a ‘proper’ distance. But that moment just did not come. It made me feel bad, having to break the spell myself. “You know, last time I was here, you kind of promised me to come by the castle someday. And then you didn’t.”

There was an effort on her part to tense up, but she just could not bring herself to do so. “I… I was b—“

I had to interrupt that sorry excuse right away. “If you say ‘you were busy’, I am going to go back to Joe’s, buy his whole stock, return here and really stuff you. With all the sugar and sticky whatnot that he has.”

It might have been a weird threat, but it did its job just fine. I felt a stifled giggle within her body. “Fine,” she answered in such an annoyed tone that it contrasted quite a bit with my observation.

When she finally stepped back, we both shared a meek little smile. “Do come around someday. Please. Twilight would love to have you over. As would I.”

I noticed her side glance to those book towers, followed by a sigh. There were always more books to read. She would not be able to dig through the entire Archives, not with her entire lifetime ahead of her. And she had to know that. She was way too smart not to know. “I… I will try.”

Good enough, I told myself. It had to do for now. “I’m going to grab my book now, and I’ll be over there, four rows in that direction. Just so you know. If you need anything. Or anyone. For eventual, hug-related emergencies or something.”

She rolled her eyes despite her smile and threatened me with a quickly levitated scroll. “Will you stop talking already and get out of here! You’re slowing my progress! Shoo!”

I chuckled, picked the book up and trotted to my own table, with a big, fat smile plastered on my face. And I was decently sure she smiled a lot as well, at least on the inside.

‘Haremean’s Guide to Metallurgy, Volume Two’ proved to be just the book I needed, but progress was slow anyway. According to the lengthy preamble, Volume One had given a detailed treatise about the more common and most uncommon metals and half-metals. Just about anything that could be reasonably used by a smith, according to my own assessment. Volume Two covered the remaining uncommon ones, as well as the exotics. And teased a Volume Three, which would apparently be a tad more esoteric in nature, covering metals that were said to exist but remained the subjects of myths, legends and folklore so far.

The book was all my smithing heart could have ever asked for. Each entry, all sorted alphabetically, gave a wide variety of details about each substance. Melting points. Density. Common places to find the stuff. Even some probably horribly outdated speculation about the potential prices. Some examples of uses. Descriptions of favored and established processing techniques. It was great.

It was also a lot of work to diligently work through the entire book. It would probably have been a lot less work, had I decided on any direction for my little project. But no, I explicitly tried to keep an open mind about all the potential avenues. I read the afternoon away. And the evening. And half of the night.

I was better than Moondancer, I defiantly told myself, when I made my way to the kitchen, half-asleep, asking for a sandwich. I ate it on my way to my room, fell asleep as soon as my head hit the cushion and woke up to the faint smell of fresh rain and a cold night sky’s breeze. “L-Lu…?” I groggily asked into the room, but she was nowhere to be seen. I was sure that she must have been in here, for whatever reason. And I even vaguely noticed the other side of the bed being warm. But that made no sense, did it? And after I returned from the bathroom, the bed was cold all the way through, the scent had vanished and I told myself that it had been nothing but the remnant of a nice dream.

I did not even question that I had been dreaming in the first place.

I instead walked back down to the kitchen, asked for a sandwich, ate it on my way to the Archives and buried my muzzle in that book once again. The hours trickled by, the day turned to night again, and I finally managed to close the darn thing. “Sweet Celestia, please kill me,” I quietly groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose with a hoof.

“That is not exactly her style,” Moondancer spoke up somewhere to my left.

At that point, I was simply too tired to be startled. I just looked up and squinted a little. A simple firefly lantern had lit my desk. Strange. I could not remember bringing one along. And Moondancer was holding another one in her levitation beside her head. It made some interesting shadows play and dance across her muzzle. “No, I guess not,” I belatedly answered. I grimaced a little as I stood up. Something about my blood flow did not quite feel right, but I tried to ignore it as best as I could. “You should be at home. And asleep,” I tried to reprimand her.

But Moondancer just snorted with a sharp look in her eyes and a hard to place amusement tugging at her lips. “Look who’s talking. I would be, if it were not for you. I tried to get you out of here. Twice.”

Wait, what? That did not sound right. When did she—? How would I not—? What? I felt myself blink, slowly, one eye after the other. That really made me realize just how messed up I was. “Okay… uh… so maybe I had lost track of time a little.”

She sighed and smiled. It was that kind of smile that was a rare sight for her. Warm and soothing and understanding. “Don’t worry. I get it. It gets me all the time.”

I was not quite sure if we were truly talking about the same thing, but I nodded anyway and slowly walked over to her, both the book and the lantern forgotten. She did not remark on it. She instead just turned around and we walked towards the exit side by side, close enough for our coats to occasionally brush. Probably so that she could keep me steady, should I suddenly keel over. And admittedly, I did sway slightly.

“Did you at least find what you were searching for?” she asked. Either out of curiosity, or to keep me awake. Maybe both.

I tried to sort through all the nonsense and less than useful information my brain had tried to hold onto the entire day. And I finally allowed myself to discard most of it. Materials too rare to work with them. Or poisonous in nature. Goodness gracious, there was a lot of poisonous metals. Another batch went out the hatch due to being too soft — or too hard — to properly work with them. With each moment, the list shrunk down further and further. And after peeling back the layers for about two or three minutes, I finally started to remember reading about something that had actually gotten me excited. I nodded with a bit of enthusiasm. “Yeah. I think I actually found something.” And once I inspected that memory closer, the frustration came back as well and I grimaced. “Ah. Right. But it’s a bit of a dead end, possibly. I was considering asking for your help again, but that wasn’t reasonable when the possibility was still there for me to choose other materials to begin with. But now… I don’t know… I think I would like to work with that stuff.”

She patiently nodded. “What was it?”

“’Sun-blessed gold’ and ‘moon-blessed silver’. Sounded a lot like stuff Celestia and Luna would make. You know, because of sun and moon. But as far as I’m aware, they never created their own metals. Maybe it’s more of a ritualistic blessing of regular gold and silver, but the book described them as having vastly different properties. Now, I’m not saying that a ritual cannot change the properties of a material. That would be stupid. I mean, saying that would be. Because they can. Goodness, I lost my golden threat. I need sleep.”

I heard her soft giggle at my side and could not help but smile. It was a weird observation that I had to drive myself head-first into ruin for her to dismiss her defensive walls and mechanisms. But right now, she seemed a lot more open and unguarded than usual. I liked that.

“Well, at least you are still conscious enough to realize that,” she said with a smirk that I could hear more than I could see. “I had been reading for so long at one point that I did not even feel tired anymore. Or hungry. Or thirsty. I did start to hear and see things that were not truly there though. The Princess came into the Archives after the chief librarian informed her and she put a sleep spell on me. It was designed to keep me asleep until my body had fully recuperated. They started to panic a little after the four day-mark. Luckily the spell being in effect meant that I did not have to eat or drink throughout that time, as that was part of the regeneration process. The, uh… the other librarians have been quite wary of my reading habits ever since.”

I giggled. It very much sounded like a filly, which made my own voice sound strange and alien to me for a second. Then I shrugged it off. “You know, sometimes, I think Twilight might have become just like you had she not moved to Ponyville.”

The gravitas of my mistake only struck me when Moondancer remained silent for a while, before answering with a curt “Well. Yes.”

I stopped, and shortly after so did she. “You are not her. Nopony expects you to be her,” I pleaded. “You are you, and I like you for who you are. Can you believe that?”

After another moment that just seemed to stretch into eternity, she finally sighed and turned around to face me. She looked tired. As tired as I felt, even though our little walk through the dark hallways of the castle had helped mix some life and spirit back into my bones. And she tried to smile. It was a shaky, fragile thing. “I believe you. And yet, it is still hard to escape her shadow.”

I sighed and regretted my stupid, imprudent comment. If only I had thought before opening my muzzle. “I’m sorry.” I felt like there was little else that I could say in all honesty to comfort her. She was one of Twilight’s earliest friends. They had this rivalry-friendship thing going on for a long while. They were both the smartest of their respective classes. Always head-to-head. And even to this day, many who knew both still compared them. Which certainly was not fair to either of them. I was guilty of this, certainly. But so were many others, I was sure. I wordlessly offered another hug and after some initial hesitation, she accepted the gesture.

“That was really clumsy,” she whispered while hugging me something fierce.

I chuckled a little and ‘choked’ a moment, just for dramatic effect. “I know, I know. It’s the sleep deprivation speaking, probably.” Finally, my gaze fell upon the door that was a dozen or so steps away. My guest room door. “Wait. Wait just a second. Did you just bring me to my room?”

She stepped back and the floating lantern retreated a little behind her head. Which made it quite a lot harder to tell if she was blushing or not. Which in itself was telling already. “I fell asleep in the middle of the hallway one time. It is quite embarrassing,” she noted in a surprisingly quiet whisper.

“So you’re just bringing me home to make sure that I get home safely?” I asked. I still had a little bit of trouble believing that. But she nodded in earnest. She was serious about this. “Huh. So… I’m not expected to invite you in for a coffee now?”

Despite her smile, she rolled with her eyes and wordlessly threatened to bonk the lantern over my head. “Have a good night, Dreamwalker. I will see you tomorrow.”

And just like that, she started trotting down the hallway.

“Do you want to come in for a coffee?” I was not exactly sure where I was going with this. I had initially thought about just teasing her, as a nice goodbye. And she would have snorted or thrown back some biting comment or something and then she would have left. And for some reason, I did not want that. I remembered this morning, with the other bedside being warm, and Luna’s scent in the air. It would have been easy, really. To sneak into her room. Or Celestia’s, for that matter. They really were not that far away.

But right here, and right now, I felt a strange kinship to Moondancer. She would walk out of the palace alone. She would walk along the streets of Canterlot by night, alone. Sure, she would appreciate the night sky. The fresh air. Until she arrived at her home, made herself comfortable. And she would sleep. Alone. And that was fine on most days. But it had been so easy to break through to her this time. She had made no move to break the hug in the library. She had shared some embarrassing stories without me needling her about it.

Maybe I was too exhausted to think straight. Or maybe this was her way of asking.

Either way, my indecisiveness had resulted in a rather serious tone when asking that question. Which had made her hold in her tracks instantly. She craned her neck around and looked at me with yet another hard to read expression. And before she started drawing the wrong conclusions, I opened my mouth again. “I’m not… this isn’t about sex,” I clarified hastily and grimaced just as much as she did. Night time. Empty hallway. The echo was not too bad, but somepony might have heard anyway. But I felt like I had to be this blunt. To clear it up quickly. “I’m just… uh…”

“But you are inviting me to your bed…?” she asked. Once again surprisingly quietly. My ears swiveled about and I really had to strain to make it out. Despite the silence permeating the entire castle at this hour.

I mulled things over for a moment before nodding. “I think so, yes. Like… like a sleepover.” Luna is going to kill me if she sees this. I decided to deal with her potential outburst of jealousy later. If it even came to that. I focused on Moondancer for now, and how she tried to keep hidden how she fidgeted with her hooves. She was conflicted. I did not exactly understand how or why, or what the exact nature of this conflict was. But I knew I could make it a bit easier on her. “The beds in here are awfully large for just one pony and I’m really not used to sleeping alone.” Her gaze fell down the hallway, in the direction Celestia’s and Luna’s bedchambers were. My eyes followed her gaze, but moved back to her. I stood by what I had said, despite her doubting expression.

I half-expected some hidden Night Guard to yell ‘Oh get on with it already!’ or something, but there was nothing. Just the stretching silence. One minute. Two. And finally, she hesitantly started to move again. Back in my direction. And noticing that made me smile.

Be there for a friend, I told myself, despite it being unnecessary.

I opened my door and cast a quick glance into the room, just to make sure that no sudden surprises were waiting inside. Like Luna in some very thrilling socks waiting on the bed, for example. It would not even have surprised me all that much. But no, the room was empty, dark and somewhat cold. Moondancer passed me by with her lantern, I followed suit and closed the door. And a few minutes later, after we each had been to the bathroom next door, we laid down on the bed. And again, I saw her struggle with herself. She kept a proper distance. Had her own blanket. I could read her well enough at this point to understand that she wanted to be closer, but did not dare. So I took that step for her. I closed that gap between us until I was lying pressed against her back. I even dared to put a hoof around her, hugging her from behind.

“I… do not remember sleepovers,” she remarked, barely audible.

“It’s fine,” I murmured into her mane. “Nothing you could do wrong. Just relax.”

I felt her shift around for a bit once or twice before she settled with a sigh and was truly able to do just that. Relax and enjoy something she might have needed for quite some time.

When I woke up the next morning, Moondancer was long gone. There was a little note on the bedside table, simply reading “Thank you.” I smiled lazily and then flopped over onto the other side and continued to sleep for another hour or so.

No enraged Luna barged into my room, demanding answers or presenting Moondancer’s head on a pike, so that was good. I instead just shifted down a couple of gears. I took my sweet time in the bathroom, I had a proper breakfast — even though I still decided to eat it on my way to the Archives instead of sitting down somewhere — and I felt refreshed and alive.

I did not catch a glimpse of Moondancer when I entered the Archives, or on my way to my desk. I had remembered that I had left my book and a mysterious lantern on the desk. Which I honestly felt bad for. I did not like leaving my mess for others to clean up. Much to my dismay, my desk had already been discovered. However, much to my delight — it had apparently been discovered by Moondancer. ‘Haremean’s Guide to Metallurgy, Volume Two’, was gone. In its place, I found a new book. One that was a lot smaller, and a lot lighter. However, I soon discovered that the title was not just a funny mixture of symbols meant to confuse readers. No, the entire book was written in those same weird symbols.

Luckily, my grumpy guardian angel had thought of that. I closed the book and turned it on its cover, discovering a note on the backside. “Origins in the Forbidden Jungle,” it read. Well. That was an adventure, from the sound of it. One I could actually deal with, because it meant research. The next couple of hours, I dove into the Archives properly, quickly scanning books upon books. First I researched what languages were frequently used in the Forbidden Jungle or its adjacent regions. Language-wise, that was not a lot. But goodness gracious, so many dialects. With sometimes significant alterations. So the next step was to find out what exactly my book was written in. And after a couple more hours, I had an answer to that: Centaur. Which already gave a clue to further narrow down the region this book or its writer had originated from. Centaur was commonly used in the Arimaspi Territory, which was west of the Forbidden Jungle.

With that little adventure done and dusted, I found myself a nice, heavy Centaur-Ponish dictionary and returned to my desk with a skip in my step. That! That was the kind of adventure I was well-equipped to deal with. A nice and short one. Where you stayed indoors. And mostly dealt with books and quirky cross-references.

Twilight would have loved it.

I usually tried to follow the philosophy of ‘work first, fun later’. Pinkie frequently tried to convert me to her own version of the saying: Make work fun. That, however, was easier said than done. What lay ahead of me was a grueling task indeed. The dictionary was massive, as Centaur seemed to be a surprisingly complex language with a lot of words. A lot.

And I had no clue about it. So I needed to search for a symbol. Translate that symbol. Search for the next one. And the symbols had no rhyme or reason to my untrained eye. I considered once again asking for help, but who would I even ask? I could hardly ask Celestia or Luna. They were busy with state business on most days. And I did not even know if they spoke the language to begin with. I did not know any language experts either. Did any of the other librarians have a firm grip on it? I even considered taking the book to Twilight Velvet, Twilight’s mother. She was a writer, right? So maybe she had learned a few pieces here and there for one of her stories? Then again, I still did not even know what she was writing.

At least I knew that Twilight did not know Centaur. Or had not known it the last time I had asked her. She was very quick in learning just about anything. But no. No, I could not involve her in helping me make her own gift, that would just feel wrong.

Moondancer had done a lot for me at this point. It was probably about time I invested something of my own. Time, nerves, blood and tears. Hopefully less of the latter two.

Sacrifices had been made. Life choices had been thoroughly regretted.

Five days had become a blur of sleep-deprivation and dull colors. I made progress, of course. Symbol by symbol, page by page. By now, I had enough notes stacked up to pretend I was writing my own book and I was almost done with it. And I had translated what? Twenty pages or so? In five days?

The issue was not the slow pace per se. I started to recognize symbols I had already looked up, just through sheer brute force of will and repetition. The issue was the complexity of the language itself. There were so many symbols to begin with and depending on their context, they could gain different meanings. A certain chain of symbols could describe a slow-moving river in a wide, green field. The same symbols with only two of them switched could make the river into a wild torrent.

I had known desperation before. I actually liked to think that I was quite familiar with the feeling. But the reasons for my fears and despair were usually less… tangible. More esoteric, or philosophical in nature. I was more of an existential crisis-stallion, and less of a ‘oh my goddess, I can’t cope with this anymore, please burn this’-stallion.

Five days. And this one book... well two, actually. These two books had almost broken me. Just… just how?!

I had dared to face a dreamscape creature centuries old, of such immeasurable power that even Luna, Princess of the Night, Guardian of the Dreamscape, did not dare face it alone. The memories I had gained due to my flashes told me of stories in which I dared to defy an invading changeling army, armed myself with nothing more than a shield and so much anger that it had transformed me into something wicked. And maybe scariest of them all, I had faced a running, yelling, very angry Applejack and somehow survived the beating she had given me.

How in my sweet Celestia’s name were two books bringing me down?!

“How is it going?” I heard Moondancer ask.

The mere sound of her voice was such a relief. It washed over me in a wave of cooling serenity. Something to distract me from this pain and misery. “Show mercy. Kill me,” I begged her without raising my muzzle from the table.

“Impressive. That good, hm?” she asked. I heard her walk over to me and she looked at my translation job so far. “That is… sloppy work.”

The pause at least let me think that she tried not to be too harsh. But I could hear it. I could hear all the things on the tip of her tongue that she had managed to keep in. Shoddy translation. Many mistakes. Needs more fire. And I agreed. Despite the time I had sunk into this damned project, I agreed wholeheartedly. It was awful.

We both remained silent for a while. She did not move. She did not touch my notes. And I, I could not be bothered to do anything right now.

She finally broke the silence. “You should take a day off. You look awful. Take a bath. Eat. Sleep. Preferably in that order.”

I considered being snarky about it, but then I remembered her little ‘Thank you’-card on the bedside table and could not bring myself to speak any harsh words. Even though I had no reason to expect anything else but those from her. I sighed and tried to smile. “What? So that I may return tomorrow to find yet another helpful book on my desk? You know… I had not managed to properly thank you for that. You’ve been avoiding me these last four days.”

“Five.”

“Right. Sorry. Point stands though.” I finally raised my head again and looked at her. And I was surprised to see her strangely bereft of her usual defiance. Maybe she really was trying hard to open up. “Do you regret the sleepover?” I asked, following a hunch.

“No! No,” she quickly — too quickly — replied. She even noticed it herself and grimaced a little. And finally added a quiet “And yes.”

So she did, and did not. Well. Being someone who struggled with a lot of dichotomies myself, I could somewhat understand that. “Would you like to explain that further?” I asked.

“No,” she answered in measured neutrality.

I smiled a little lopsided and nodded. “Fair enough. Do it anyway though. Please.”

She looked around as if to make sure we were alone and unheard. Problem was: There were bookshelves in all directions, thrice as high as she was, and labyrinthine in their array. It was a jungle made of wood, paper and ink. Really the best kind of jungle. Just not ideal when one tried to remain unheard.

“It was really nice,” she finally relented, “Too nice.”

As usual when these things were concerned, she did not exactly give me much to work with. But I figured it was enough anyway, if barely. I did understand her predicament after all. She wanted more. A repeat or two or twenty or forever. No, not forever. She was a loner, a recluse at heart. She would eventually grow tired of this. She would happily, merrily return to walking home alone, sleeping alone, being alone. And that would be fine. But right now, it was not. Right now, she wanted this and maybe even feared it a little? What it meant? What it might do to her? Without further explanation, that was harder to tell. And I was certain that I would not get a lot more out of her.

But did it really matter? Did it have to?

I stood up from my chair and once again felt that nasty blood flow issue slowly rear its ugly head and subsequently starting to sort itself out. Ignoring the prickling sensation in my legs, I walked over to her and hugged her. She was less surprised this time and melted into it a lot quicker. The hesitation I noticed this time was born from a different source.

“Does this feel nice?” I asked her, and noticing her drawing breath, I quickly added: “And don’t come up with winded explanations or try to deflect it. Just… listen to yourself and answer as simply as you can. You don’t even necessarily have to answer aloud.”

“It does,” she did anyway.

I nodded. “Does that feel nice all the time?” It only took her a brief moment before shaking her head. “Alright. So what makes you think this will be any different? I don’t mind the company. Really. I don’t.”

“Then why are you not with… you know.”

I pulled back just enough to see her face and smiled a little sheepishly. “Heh. Ehrm. I came here for this project of mine and… I know I could. I could marsh over each and every night. It would be nice. I don’t… I’m not used to sleeping alone. And I don’t like it very much. But I would get distracted. I would lose a lot of time. And right now, with this bugger over there, I need that time. If I don’t finish this stupid translation sometime soon, I’m gonna go nuts and set this place ablaze. And then you would need to kill me. And that would be messy. For all involved.”

She sighed. “You are not as funny as you think.”

I chuckled a little. “Yeah. I know.”

For a moment, we were both silent. Until she spoke up again, voicing a question born from worry, or maybe curiosity. I could not tell. “And I do not distract you?”

“Can’t say you do, no,” I answered honestly.

I saw her eyes wander. Over to the table, to the dictionary, my notes, the book written in Centaur. At some point, once this was finished, I would go again. I always did. Because at the end of the day, I did not live here in Canterlot. This city was not mine, not my home, and it would never be. I did not belong here. I would leave, and she would stay, and that was okay. She could come visit whenever she wanted. If only she actually did that when she wanted.

“I… I will… can I…” She grimaced, frustrated with her own inability to string a couple of words together into a coherent sentence.

I smiled. “Come by whenever you want, I’ll leave the door open.” I hugged her once more and when I pulled back, I threw one last, spiteful look at the desk and its offerings. “I hope you burn in Tartarus, where you belong!” I hissed at the two books, before dragging my heavy hooves off to do just what Moondancer had told me. In the order she had proposed.

It was late into the night when I heard the door creak open. I smiled and shifted in the bed to prop myself up a little. I saw her silhouette sneak around, she tried to be stealthy and quiet. She had not noticed me ‘waking up’. “No lantern this time?” I asked and chuckled at her startled yelp.

Her horn sparked to life and illuminated her face — and the lantern she carried on her back. She must have extinguished it outside. “Did I wake you up?”

Her question admittedly took me by surprise. I had anticipated some snarky remark, maybe a couple of accusations. Instead, she looked like she was suffering from a bad conscience. “Don’t worry. I was actually kind of waiting for you.” Aaaand she blushed. Perfect.

She had a rather aggressive pout as she saw me grin. For a couple of seconds, we just stared at each other, before she set the lantern aside and came over to the bed. I was about to tease her for forgetting the bathroom, but then I noticed the faint scent of some fruity shampoo and could not help but silently chuckle to myself. She was really going to some lengths to make this easier for herself. I did not mind.

She once again rolled up in her own blanket and this time, she scooched closer all by herself, with only a little bit of hesitation. “And you are sure this is okay?” she asked quietly.

“Well, Luna hasn’t killed me yet, so I’m assuming she’s either fine with it, or doesn’t know,” I joked. “And if she doesn’t know, I’ll tell her at some point, but there’s nothing she needs to worry about, so I don’t see any reason for urgency here. Aaaand I had an idea to make it feel more like a normal sleepover.” I grinned triumphantly while levitating a brush up from the bedside table.

She stared at the brush for a moment, before turning her quizzical gaze to me. “You intend to brush my hair?”

“Uh-huh! Not sure about you, but I always like that. Feels… oh, what would Rarity say? ‘It feels simply divine, darling!’ And it’s an established sleepover ritual.” I was quite happy with my solution. My own little contribution to ease her worries. But then I saw her shift uncomfortably and I realized that maybe, this was less than ideal. I just did not understand why. “Alright? Uhm. A brush is too much? Too girly?”

She sighed. “It is… a nice gesture. I am sorry, I just… I do not like others brushing my hair.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure, no, that’s alright,” I hastily replied and lowered the brush back down.

There was a little bit of an awkward lull, a dip in the conversation while she shifted again to make herself comfortable. “Could you… would you hug me again?” she quietly asked.

I quietly snorted in mild amusement and nodded. “Gladly. You’re very huggable.”

“Shut up. I have no idea how Twilight puts up with you.”

I snickered and put my hoof around her and found her all too happy within my embrace. Only then did she allow herself to retire for the day and only then did I get to see just how tired she was. Moondancer was asleep within less than thirty seconds. I lay awake for a couple minutes more, listened to her evenly breathing and pondered the freshly labeled ‘brush incident’. I would gladly call her my friend. After all — what I currently tried to do for her was not exactly something a pony did to — or rather for — a stranger or superficial acquaintance. And yet there was apparently still a lot I did not know about her. It was a good thing to be reminded of, as that revelation held true for all the ponies in my life. Celestia had lived for thousands of years. I would never truly know everything. Even Twilight surprised me on occasion with things about her that I simply did not know. The closer a pony got to another, the more they knew about each other, the rarer became these instances of genuine surprise. And over time, that might lull one into a false sense of security. One might forget that knowing everything about the other was simply impossible.

“Thank you,” I sleepily mumbled into her mane and rested my head behind hers.

The next morning came and Moondancer was still there this time. Sleeping like a log.

I immediately had the usual devious idea of making a mess of the bed by having breakfast here. So I set to my new list of tasks. First of all, I snuck out of the bed and out of the room to flag down a castle servant and politely ask if somepony could bring a breakfast for two to my room. Simple enough and since this was a guest room, there were fewer questions asked than I had anticipated.

I had to sneak back into my room after that and out the other door into the bathroom. I did my entire routine and returned to find Moondancer still sleeping, which was both a testament to the quality of the curtains, and a telling sign of the extent of her exhaustion.

With nothing else to prepare and not wanting to be deemed a creep, I found myself in a strange position. Sitting around silently was getting harder and harder to do. Walking around, however, had the unnecessary risk of making noise and waking her up. And I could hardly sit down on the bed and stare at her, for the aforementioned reason. Lucky me, however — I only had to endure this predicament for a few precious minutes before a knock from the door rang out.

I sprung up and quickly moved over before whoever brought the breakfast could knock again. “Thank you!” I told the servant, pulled the trolley into the room and closed the door again. But it was too late. Either the knock had woken her up, or our voices. She stirred and, with some minor difficulty, sat up, blearily looking around the room and not recognizing much of it. “Wha—… What is this?” she asked and tried to politely stifle a yawn, meanwhile pointing a hoof at the trolley.

“This is breakfast!” I grinned and presented the entire thing with a triumphant flair. It was a simple, but nice affair. A couple of slices of bread, some toasted, a few slices of cheese, a small selection of jams and two little bowls of fruit salad.

She looked at it in disbelief. And that moment dragged on and on, making me feel increasingly antsy. Did I overdo it? Maybe breakfast in bed had too much of a romantically inclined background? Was I making things weird?

“Just to make this perfectly clear,” she started with a stern tone, “this is your room, and your bed, and this was your idea! I am not responsible for cleaning anything of this up, and I am not to be held responsible for any crumbs in your bed!”

I laughed. Both in relief, and genuine mirth. “Duly noted. Now, what do you want to start with?”

Instead of asking, she nodded to my confirmation and levitated one of the salad bowls over to herself. Self-service, fair enough. In the next few minutes, we spoke little. The quality of food present here in the palace was always admirable, even for something as simple as a selection of cheese slices. And I could not help but smile a little whenever I noticed how cautious she ate. Despite her harsh words, she still tried to keep the mess to a minimum, which obviously resulted in me making more of it than her. Probably just how she preferred it.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday,” I started after I had decided to be done with breakfast. “I think I might have fallen asleep in the bathtub. Twice. Most of the day is a blur, with some massive ‘I probably slept?’-holes in it. But then again, so is almost the entire last week. You seem pretty tuckered out yourself yesterday. Are you alright? How are the books?”

“You are welcome,” she replied and used a napkin to get rid of some jam on her chin. “I admit I might have put the weight of unnecessary expectations upon myself. Honestly, at this point I am starting to worry that I might have somehow invested in this nonsensical endeavor of yours. As for the translation… I managed to finish that.”

There was a pregnant pause in which I tried, and failed, to process what she just had said. “You what?”

Moondancer at least had the decency to blush a little, though she did not avoid eye contact. “I finished it. Do not make that out to be a monumental achievement. It—“

“Are you kidding me?!” I half-yelled, half-laughed, before hugging her fiercely. This one, I giddily decided, she had to endure no matter what. I smushed my cheek against hers and felt like yelling again, hollering in joy and relief. Of course I showed some self-restraint and did not — her ears were right there, after all. But I had a little internal celebration. The two villains who had bested me, fallen at last. My friend had taken revenge for my defeat! How glorious.

When I finally gave her free, I grinned like a madpony. “You’re way too modest, Moonie. You did something incredible, especially given the short timeframe.”

She struggled for a moment with her intent to dispute that point, but soon recognized the telltale signs of this endeavor being moot. So she gave up and allowed herself a small smile, carried by a wary, cautious pride. “I had several factors working to my benefit. While your notes were horribly sloppy and your horn writing is a disaster, it did provide me with a basis to work off on. In addition to that, I did not have to translate the entire book, since I already knew what you were searching for. I just translated the relevant passages.”

And she really did make it sound easy. But I was not buying it. However, there was no reason to push this any further as well. She would start feeling uncomfortable with the compliment at some point and I tried to stay away from that line, just as to not even risk crossing it. “Alright, so… can I have it? Or can we talk about it?”

Much to my delight, she nodded. “We can talk about it. In fact, we should. After my translation of the core passages and some adjacent pieces, I came to the conclusion that you might be in way over your head. You are searching for two very rare materials. Documentation for their presence only exists in one place and one place only. This place is a very dangerous one for our kind. Outside of Equestrian borders. Near the borders of a hostile territory. The core passage talks about trials, Dreamwalker. It appears to be some kind of old ritual, and these trials… their descriptions are unnecessarily vague. And they sound quite dangerous.”

She was worried, that much was clear. For my safety. Maybe even for the safety of Equestria. After all — a single pony coming too close to the borders of the Arimaspi Territory could lead to an incident. But Twilight had faced more than her fair share of trails. And she had been fine. Heck, I had faced a couple of my own and came out stronger. Or at least alive. “I appreciate your concern, Moondancer. Really, I do. But I need to know more — all, preferably — before making my own decision.”

While she was not exactly thrilled to hear that, she seemed to have expected as much. And I would have bet that she would have said almost the exact same thing, had our positions been reversed. So she started to recite the legend from memory. An impressive memory, and an impressive legend. Most of it seemed like the raving delusions and fanatic praise of some jungle-dwelling barbaric culture, probably long gone and dusted. But I knew for a fact that the Forbidden Jungle held dozens, if not hundreds of ruins, temples and other structures.

And there was a passage in this legend that really made my smithing hooves itch.

[…] And with all trials passed, he shall emerge, clad in gold and silver blessed by sun and moon, and bestow his greatest treasure. […]

Making sense of the flowery language was easy enough in this case. Someone underwent these trials and emerged with both materials I sought. The trials themselves sounded like some nasty business, true. But: They did not sound like they were designed to kill. Or even maim. They sounded like they were designed with the sole intent of separating the wheat from the chaff. The worthy from the unworthy.

Of course, with the trial locations probably being in a state of disrepair for a couple of centuries or something, they could very well have become dangerous over time. Not to speak of potential traps against intruders, and the ‘usual’ dangers one had to expect when traveling into a jungle.

And the heat. The Celestia-damned, incredible heat. And the humidity.

A. K. Yearling had never actually written about that, had she? Daring Do was just fine and dandy within the jungle. No mention of being sweaty or uncomfortable. Probably was not exactly what her readership wanted to read about.

After Moondancer had told me everything the legend had to offer, I still asked for a transcription. And she was willing to provide one after we returned to the Archives. I helped clean up my desk, and we celebrated the end of my torture when she took her rarely used lunch break. By going outside and incinerating my notes.

“You are still going to do it, are you not?” she asked with a heavy heart, while we watched the fire consume the paper.

“I think so, yeah,” I admitted. “These last hours, I’ve been really successful in telling myself that this isn’t all that bad. Nothing too worrisome. Nothing too dangerous. Just a little bit of jungle, you know. I’m not stupid, of course. I think I’m starting to formulate a plan. A hopefully decent plan that will keep me alive once this rare bout of optimism eventually runs dry. But before I can follow up on that idea, I have to finish these preparations. I’m very grateful for your help and the transcription especially. But the next step is something I should actually be able to do myself. I need to figure out where these trial locations are. Shouldn’t be too hard, there’s a lot of landscape descriptions in there. So I’m going to dig through the entire map section the Archives have of that region and hopefully figure this out. I’m halfway decent with maps. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

She remained silent for a while. The fire had long since done its work, and the paper was mere ash. She sighed. “And after that? Assuming you manage to get the locations. What then? You said you had a plan that would be better than ‘hope for the best’.”

“I said ‘I’m starting on a plan’! That’s like ‘I have an idea’!” I corrected with a lopsided grin. “But no, seriously, don’t worry. I think I’m going to try to convince Celestia to come with me.”

“Oh.” For some reason, she sounded genuinely surprised. Which in turn surprised me. Maybe this was about the concept of The Princess Celestia. The perfect and immaculate ruler that sat on the throne in Canterlot. That image was hard to unite with Celestia, that mare that had fun playing a prank or two and loved running around enjoying her life. I was pretty sure she would be up for an adventure. And she would be most certainly well-equipped to handle whatever would come our way. “I guess that would work,” Moondancer added belatedly.

I smirked. “See? Good plan. Couldn’t be safer.”

We returned inside. Lunch break was over. Moondancer went back to her work, which meant reading some more and kindly pointed me in the right direction before she started. I needed three more desks just to keep all the maps around. And getting all the locations took another three days. This time however, I did not feel frustrated. I barely felt the time pass at all, since this was quite frankly a lot of fun. Many of the maps were from different times. I had to compare how the depicted landscape had changed. I had to ask Moondancer how old the original book was, according to her estimation anyway. I had to dig through some history books to see if any events might have changed the landscapes further. It was more like a puzzle wherein I had to search for the pieces first and then make them fit.

And each and every night, Moondancer snuck into my room and enjoyed something as simple as another pony’s company and warmth. And it was enough. It helped. I helped.

At least that was what I thought and hoped for.

By the end of it all, I held a single map. A copy. With several locations marked. It should have come as no surprise that they were in the western parts of the Forbidden Jungle. And that they were relatively close to each other. I had even marked down a perfect location right in the middle, on a little hill that would be ideal for a base camp. With each trial location within a day’s worth of travel.

It started to dawn on me that this might very well be my first ‘real’ adventure.

And I finally felt sufficiently prepared.