Author's Note

There are two longer passages written in italics in this chapter. The first one I would tag with 'death', 'gore' and 'violence', just to be on the safe side. There's way more gruesome stuff out there on FiMFiction, but it get's a little nastier than I usually write. Reader's discretion is advised.
Since it's only that one passage so far and I don't see myself writing more in that vein within the confinements of this story, I won't tag the entire story as such, as that could mislead readers.

This Ravine Just Goes On Forever

The dreamscape had been busy once again. I woke up with a sigh. Despite my mild annoyance, I had to smile as I heard my gesture repeated behind me. “I tell you, they know,” I mumbled. And for another minute or two, I simply refused to get up. Or even so much as budge. Luna seemed to struggle with her start as well as she simply held onto me and we cuddled for a while, slowly regaining our will to actually start a new day.

We eventually realized that we could not stay in bed forever. I felt it in my bones that this early hour was strictly against my nature, but we had a long way ahead of us and it would not do to waste daylight hours like that. Traveling at night would have been preferable, actually. The enchantments on my armor allowed me a better vision and Luna was nocturnal by nature. However, there were certain predators that loved to hunt at night and the armor would slow me down.

So we got up, quietly used the bathroom and packed our things. We sneakily stepped down the stairs and had made our way halfway across the Salt Block’s ground floor when I stopped and hissed “Wait!” When Luna turned to me, I vaguely gestured towards the bar counter. “We wanted to pay Royal Splendor!”

She grinned and nodded. “That is already done,” she replied and gestured towards a display cabinet a little to the side of the counter. It proudly presented Royal’s collection of fancy mugs, cups and tankards. “Half of them are filled with bits,” she explained with a soft giggle.

I needed a moment to comprehend. And quite honestly, to count the various drinking implements. Now, she had said ‘filled’, but did she really mean filled-filled? Because if so, we had just lost a couple of pounds of weight and overpaid the stallion by a lot. Not that I minded the latter, I just did not wish to give the poor guy a heart attack. But maybe she only left a few coins in each? Or only filled them halfway?

Luna is a mare of excess and passion. She does not do ‘half-measures’, I reminded myself. I had to actually work hard to reign myself in so as to not chuckle too loudly. “Good,” I simply replied and continued towards the exit. I was really bad at estimating somepony else’s age, but I thought Royal looked about my age, plus minus ten years or so? A heart attack would not be that likely, right?

We successfully snuck out of the inn without causing a ruckus and waking everypony up. A few farmers were up and about from the looks of it, but most of them kept to themselves and their business, despite the inherently friendly nature of Appleloosians. A few smiles, as words were hard to come by this early, a few nods and we managed to escape the town. With such flat land all around us, it was easy to find the tracks of the abandoned railway line and once we reached those, we quickly fell into a nice, simple rhythm for our trek.

Of course at that point, it took an hour or two until I remembered that yes, we had left somewhat hastily and without breakfast. My stomach rumbled a little and I laughed quietly as Luna’s belly answered in turn. “Breakfast break?” I asked.

“Are your hooves still good?” she asked.

Fair enough, really. I was not used to walking for hours. And today would most likely end in me complaining up a storm about how everything hurt or ached or whatnot. But so far, I was fine. “Still good,” I answered honestly.

She acknowledged that and opened her saddlebags with her magic. And out flew what I had dreaded: Allfood. Two slices of it, for the time being. “In that case, I will fix us something and we can continue on our way?”

I was not exactly looking forward to Allfood, but I found no fault with her proposal since our options were somewhat limited. “Yeah, sure.”

My eyes grew a little as she retrieved a small little jar from her saddlebags. I knew that shape. I recognized the jar before I even saw the Apple-brand. And even more telling was the technicolor content. A swirl of rainbows. Zap apple jam. “How did you—… actually, just, how?” I inquired with a chuckle.

Luna giggled and shrugged. “Did I mention that my sister dearest has quite the sweet tooth? I plundered her private chamber’s not-so-secret stash. However, I am quite certain that she has plundered it herself from the palace kitchen, so I do not believe that a guilty conscience is required. Stealing from a thief is a gray area after all, is it not?” She winked at me with a mischievous smile and spread some of the jam on both slices.

I was not exactly sure if that would fit together, on second thought. Allfood was mostly made out of beans and vegetable and other, heartier stuff, was it not? But as she levitated my slice over, I gladly took it anyway and gave it a try. And to my surprise, there was not a trace of beans. Or peas. There were carrots in there, I was decently sure of that. But what I tasted most of all were… raisins? Apples. Bananas. “Huh. You changed the recipe?” I asked in surprise.

Luna proudly puffed her chest out and grinned in satisfaction. “I did! Do you like it?”

“Actually, yeah. It’s great!” And with a chuckle, I took another, bigger bite. Combined with the really unique taste of zap apple jam, it was quite the experience. And it tasted sweet enough that I made a mental note that I had to get a few pieces of this and offer them to Pinkie. I was pretty sure she would love this stuff.

“I am glad to hear that,” Luna answered happily after another bite. “I was not certain about the inclusion of some of the ingredients.” That remark made me pause for just a second or so and I eyed the Allfood from below. But I could not pick out what she meant. Not on a visual level. And I had certainly not tasted anything peculiar. So as long as she did not tell me about her more dubious ingredients, everything was fine. “I did make both versions,” she continued and gestured with her horn towards the other saddlebag, “as I had my doubts that we would appreciate such a sweet meal with the same fervor for dinner.”

“Good call,” I replied. “What about water?”

She raised a single bottle. A familiar one. “I refilled it. I thought that one might be sufficient if it contained enough?”

I smiled and nodded. “Sure.” I took a gulp, gave the bottle back and refocused my attention on my breakfast. Despite Spike's best efforts, eating while moving was something I had quickly grown accustomed to. I loved a good breakfast, a real one. Where everypony was sitting down at a table that was laden with all sorts of delectable stuff. Everypony took their time, the meal was to be enjoyed after all, and we would talk and mess around and such. It was a time-consuming affair, but as far as I was concerned, that was time well-spent.

Not every morning could be this indulgent though. Sometimes stuff had to be done quickly and efficiently. And while I greatly appreciated these long, lazy breakfast-mornings, the other ones were simply closer to my nature, it seemed. And to Luna's, judging by her content smile as we continued on our way.

We made a couple of smaller breaks here and there and my hooves obviously started to ache from all that walking at some point. I tried not to complain too much and I was quite successful in that regard. I would most likely be less so in the coming days. However, my attempts to obscure that fact on a non-verbal basis were less successful. I was slowing down. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not keep up. No amount of berating myself helped. No conscious effort to walk faster again would stick for more than a couple of minutes. And of course, all these efforts had the telling side-effect of me talking less and giving shorter answers. All things considered, Luna was surprisingly patient with me.

“I will have to raise the moon soon, we should set up camp for the night,” she offered.

And while a large part of me rejoiced with relief, my inner defiance demanded I not let it show too much. “If you say so,” I replied and grimaced a little. The tone had been a tad too dismissive for my tastes. Like I was implying that I could go on for miles still, while she was the one caving in. To my relief however, she merely smiled and left it at that.

Finding a decently sufficient campsite was not that hard. We had passed most of the Macintosh Hills today and were on the southern side of the mountains. A single glance to the sides told me in no uncertain terms what an arduous journey it would have been had we crossed the mountains at any other point. The train tracks carved a nice little valley through the mountains, using the natural terrain and improving upon it in places. Following the tracks really was the easiest choice. And now that we had made it through, we were still in the foothills. Too far away from the Forbidden Jungle to worry about big cats, and too far away from Arimaspi Territory to worry about stray centaur encounters. Maybe a bear or something like that could live somewhere around here. But I was decently sure we were capable of dealing with those.

“Sooo… tent?” I asked and Luna pointed her hoof to one of the saddlebags I carried. That left only one saddlebag with ominous content. The other three were breakfast, dinner and our shelter. I made a mental note of that and grinned a little to myself as I put down the bags and started to unpack our tent. It was done quite quickly. Because it really was just one tent. A small one at that. The kind Applejack used when they went camping.

Setting up a tent was still tedious though. I had no instruction manual to guide me, which I would have preferred greatly, and a bunch of rods of varying sizes were meant to secure the tent on the ground and hold up its frame. And while I fiddled around with the damn thing, Luna put together a nice little fireplace and ignited it with a spark of magic. “Do you need help?” she asked. And even though there was nothing but sincerity in her voice, my first instinct still was a snappy remark.

So I bit down on my tongue and took a deep breath. No reason to lash out with my frustration. “I think I’m almost done, but thank you,” I replied instead and indeed, a few more minutes and the damn thing was done. The upside: Now I knew how to do it. The downside: My hooves did not ache less.

“Lie down on your side,” Luna instructed me. “I have a little something for you.”

“More ointments?” I asked with a smirk. The last can we had emptied due to vigorous activity. I wondered if the fourth saddlebag was our first aid kit, so to speak of. Or maybe it was just ‘the other stuff’ and contained just about anything that was not food or camping supplies.

Luna did not answer. She instead retrieved another can, as expected. A different size and shape. No label. And she levitated a little bubble of water out of our bottle and spread it into four smaller ones. Which she put on my hooves. It felt really nice, but at the same time made me aware of how hot they seemed. They almost throbbed, now that their task was done. For today, anyway. And the water seemed to drain that excess heat out of them.

She sat down at my side, took one of my legs and started to give me a hoof massage. I blinked in surprise before I softly chuckled. She grinned and continued on undisturbed. “Thank you, Luna.”

A few minutes later, my hooves were sore. More than they had already been. But they did not hurt anymore, which was a good thing. “My turn?” she asked with a small smile and I replied in kind. After all, despite the incredible alicorn stamina — when had been the last time she had walked this much? And even if she only played the part, that still would have been fine with me. Who doesn’t love a massage? And I sure loved to give them, especially to her. Maybe I had been a spa pony in some iterations?

“Your turn,” I happily agreed. And I returned the favor. Her hooves radiated heat and I imagined they ached just as much as mine did. The relief plastered all over her face certainly supported that notion. After I was done with the water, the cleaning and the massage, I took one of her hooves and raised it up once more. Applying the balm would have been the next step, but I hesitated for a second or two, before I simply leaned forward and cautiously licked the underside of her hoof. I heard a soft gasp as I slowly drew my tongue across its surface and grinned from ear to ear when I looked down to her. She was surprised, but not averse to the idea. It was always a delight to see how easily I could get her going.

“I will have to raise the moon soon,” she whispered with some regret tinging her voice.

I snickered and shrugged. “What a shame. But I’m sure it won’t be the last opportunity,” I replied and opened the can with the ointment.

“I will make sure of that,” Luna replied with a sultry smile.

I carefully applied the balm and put her last hoof down to let them rest and recuperate. And I sat down in front of her. “Better?”

“Much better,” she answered with a smile and pulled me down for a kiss.

I simply followed my gut. I slightly angled my head to deepen the kiss further and probed her lips with the tip of my tongue. A request quickly answered and our tongues intertwined in a little dance of their own. Our breathing deepened as passions rose. I stroked along her neck with a hoof.

“I need to raise the moon,” she whispered after pulling away.

“You’re raising a lot right now,” I replied, still in a daze. And I would probably have kept my mouth shut had I actually thought about what I was saying. I had no time to be embarrassed though as she craned her neck and gave the head of my member a quick kiss. A light shudder ran through my body.

And relentless tease that she was, she got up and turned away from me with a wink and a smirk. “Enjoy the show,” she told me. I was pretty sure she meant the rising moon, but my eyes were fixed on her rump for a moment longer, her tantalizingly swishing tail covering what I craved right now.

It took some restraint and a few deep breaths to reign myself in. Bad timing is bad, I whined.

Maybe half a minute later, I had accepted my fate and managed to recompose myself. Luna had apparently needed a moment to do the same. She looked back and a loving smile graced her lips right before she started. A few steps to the left. Light steps. Like stepping on snow and not wanting to disturb the cold layer. Her wings twitched slightly. A few more graceful steps. Her eyes were closed, I noticed. And a serene smile persisted. I eventually realized what I witnessed.

She was dancing.

It was a slow dance. Meant for two. But her partner was missing. And yet, she kept in sync with a melody that I suspected only she heard. Her wings slowly unfolded. Not like a peacock presenting his beauty to impress, but like a lover’s embrace. The motion itself, the care and caution demonstrated by it, was such an intimate display. Her dance reached a crescendo as she took a few quick steps and with wingbeats so soft that I was surprised she could lift off at all, she was airborne. And yet her dance continued. She flew slowly and rose higher. There was a beauty to it that I could never hope to describe. And with another crescendo, the airborne part of her dance peaked. A wide gesture with her hoof and a part of the now blackened sky lit up.

Many scholars and even more writers had described this spectacle before. Yet I found most of the descriptions I had read somewhat lacking. The stars did not pop into existence. Their light did not increase in strength. They did not appear. It instead seemed like they had always been there. Waiting to be seen, to be noticed. Patiently. And all she did was to cut through the clouds. To part a mist that had obstructed them from view.

Another gesture with her hoof and another part of the sky lit up. Like a wave. As if she was splashing in water and the ripples chased along the sky, towards the horizon. And with each tiny dot that came to life, that returned to view, her beloved moon peaked a little higher over the horizon. This grand silver disk of pale light. I loved moonlight. It was soft. Almost teasingly.

I noticed that Luna's dance had followed a different pattern. I had seen the summer sun celebration and I had seen the winter solstice. Official holidays with official celebrations and both princesses raised their respective celestial bodies in front of thousands. The festivities were a bit much for my taste, but I could get behind the intent, at least. But on those days, Luna raised the moon in a similar fashion as Celestia did. Where was the difference?

When Luna landed, she seemed both proud and surprisingly shy. “What do you think?” she asked.

It was inevitably another one of those moments. No matter how hard I tried, I was utterly dissatisfied with each and every attempt to describe what I had seen. “It was magnificent,” I tried anyway. I did not want to let her wait for too long, lest she would get anxious. “It was impressive. It was gorgeous… you were gorgeous.”

She blushed. The faintest tint in her cheeks gave it away. The moonlight only accentuated it. “Thank you,” she softly replied. “I am glad you liked it. It is rare that I get a chance to display it like that.”

I patted the ground next to me and she followed the invitation and sat down. And without hesitating a second, I pulled her into a kiss. I could feel her anxiety. I didn't quite understand what had her so on edge, but I was glad to notice it slowly bleeding out of her. “About that. What’s up with that anyway? I’ve seen you raise the moon on the winter solstice. And from your balcony. It never looks like this.”

She sighed. And it was the kind of ‘a long and partially regrettable past is being dragged into light’-sigh. “My sister, for as much as I love her, casts a very long shadow.” She fell silent and I was not sure if she wanted to explain any more than this. I considered if I should ask or not, as I knew that she occasionally still struggled with her past, but she continued before I could reach a decision. “We are very… different.”

I chuckled softly. “I’ve noticed.”

Despite my interruption, she seemed at least appreciative of the attempt to lighten the mood a little. “My sister raises the sun like a great burden she carries. It is fitting. Her responsibility is giving life. Without the sun, plants would not grow. Neither trees, nor crops. Without plants, entire ecosystems would break apart. She is well aware of what her duty means. And she raises the sun with that knowledge in both mind and heart.”

“Wait, are you calling the sun fat?” I interrupted again.

This time, I got her. She cracked up and after a rather undignified initial snort, she laughed quietly for a good moment. “I mean, have you seen the size of that thing?” she went along with the banter.

I huffed a little in faux-indignation. “Before you dare, I feel I must warn you: Do not, under any circumstances, allude to any correlation between the size of her celestial body and the size of her, well, celestial body.”

I cracked her up even more this time. It took her a minute or so until she was able to speak again and I even offered her the bottle to take a sip. “Thank you.” She closed it afterwards and put it down nearby. And then she watched me. Studied me. “So what you are saying is… that you prefer my sister’s plump posterior to mine?”

Had I not noticed that playful and mischievous twinkle in her eyes, at least the edge in her voice would have given her away. “No, not at all. In fact, I prefer your sister’s plump posterior alongside your finely toned rump,” I quickly tried to wiggle my way out of the noose. And just for good measure, I put a hoof on her cutie mark and let it wander around a little while suggestively smiling in her direction. “That being said, I will not stand any insults to either of you, no matter the source. I would have to valiantly defend her honor and dignity and that can only get messy.”

Luna smirked and leaned down just enough to sultrily whisper into my ears. “I like it messy.”

I snickered and tilted my head up to fetch a kiss before she could pull away again. “Well, speaking from experience here, I like you messy.” We both giggled for a brief moment before a comfortable silence settled in between us. Eventually though, I tried to coax her to get on with the conversation. I did want to hear her explanation, after all. “The moon is no burden to you though.”

She smiled and looked up to the sky where her beauty shone bright. “No. It is not. For many, the night is a time of rest and relaxation. For others, it is a time of sneaking around, stalking and whispering. It is a time of forgiveness and secrets. When raising the moon, I dance. I coax it out of its hiding place. It almost feels like talking to it. With motion instead of words.”

“It is quite a spectacle,” I quietly agreed. “And the solstice?”

Her gaze fell. Back down to me, accompanied by a sigh. “Long shadows. And admittedly, insecurity on my part.” I furrowed my brow. It was not like her. To be insecure. That being said – everypony was insecure about something, sometimes. Even the most confident pony. “After my return, ponies had come to expect a certain tradition. The first time I publicly raised the moon, some hecklers in the crowd started to whisper and question what I was doing, that I was doing it ‘wrong’. I had tried to be my own pony and thus had refused to have Celestia present. In retrospect, I wished she would have been there. The next year, I raised the moon as was expected of me. I wish to return to what it used to be. To the way it should be. But I have yet to find the confidence to actually do it.”

I grimaced. It was just another example of how a few loudmouths could cause so much trouble and issues. But at least I thought I had a decent idea to fix it. “Does Twilight know?”

She nodded. “I told her a few months ago.”

‘A few’ was not exactly a precise statement. Maybe that had been before the last winter solstice, maybe after it. I shrugged. “We’ll be there next time. We’ll bring Pinks and the gang along as well. We place them in the crowd strategically and you shouldn’t have any problems at all. Rarity especially knows a thing or two about crowd control. Literally.”

Luna smiled. “You would do that for me?”

I snorted in response. “Are you kidding me? Is that even a real question? Because it shouldn’t be. You’re not supposed to bend yourself like that for others' sake'. The winter solstice is supposed to be a day where we celebrate you. You slave away for our sake each and every day. I think that’s one day to many. So yes, of course we’ll be there. And I know Applejack has two hooves very eager to make acquaintance with any hecklers’ face.”

“I—… thank you.”

I grinned and leaned over to briefly nuzzle her cheek. “No worries. I’m pretty sure Twilight already planned something along those lines anyway.”

We simply sat there side by side and watched the moon and the stars. When the night air chilled a little, she draped a wing across my back and while musing about the stars, I returned to my prior frustration about her marvelous display. “It’s such a shame,” I quietly said. “No matter how much I learn, no matter how much I read, I will never be able to do it justice. There are numerous ponies out there who are perfectly content with describing something as ‘it was awesome’ or ‘it was pretty’. But that’s just their personal experience with it. It’s biased. I wish I could describe with objective clarity what I was granted to witness. In a way that leaves no room for imagination, because I feel like… no matter how vivid it might be, no matter how good it might be, it would warp and distort what I am trying to invoke. I wish I could present exactly what I had seen. I wish I could find the right words to paint the exact scenery in other ponies’ minds. So that they may experience the same awe and wonder I did. But then again, that’s the point, isn’t it? They might not feel the same awe and wonder. They might not be as inspired by it, as astounded and enthralled. Heck, they might not even care. And I suppose that’s fine. Or… it should be fine, really. But it ain’t. Because I want to share that so badly.”

Luna had listened silently. And once I stopped rambling on, she softly leaned against me and squeezed me a little with her wing. “Thank you.”

I wanted others to see her like I did. Which was a weird thing, really. If they did, they would fall in love with her, would they not? And I would probably get jealous. Eventually. So was this wish an act of self-sabotage?

I did feel like she was underappreciated by the general public compared to her sister. But then again, Luna had missed a couple of years. Years in which Celestia, willingly or otherwise, had ingrained herself into the consciousness of the entire nation. Maybe Equestria would come to appreciate Luna just as much as I did in time. Maybe I was just impatient.

Either way, I was frustrated with the many obvious imperfections of language. This notable lack of precision irked me. On some days more than others.

“We should get some sleep,” she spoke up again a few minutes later. I honestly had been half asleep anyway. The hoof massage, the pretty moonrise, the long day of walking — I was beat. I gladly crawled into the tent next to her and did not even have much time to wonder about how awful it would most likely be to sleep in a tent before I already opened my eyes standing in the dreamscape.

The next morning came early after yet another busy night. And the day was a trudge. The train tracks were situated in a long ravine. We had the Arimaspi Territory to your right and the Forbidden Jungle to our left, but neither really reached down here. What did reach down here was the rain that started around midday.

On one hoof, it was a welcome reprieve from the unrelenting heat that we had endured yesterday. On the other hoof, we were in a ravine. In the middle of a hefty downpour. Soon enough, the ground was muddy. That could be countered easily enough – we simply switched to walking on the wooden beams securing the tracks. But the puddles all around us only grew and at some point formed little streams that eventually grew into small rivers, forming larger lakes. Parts of the tracks were flooded. A small syncline, maybe thirty feet across, was now a lake of muddy brown water. Luna picked me up and we flew across it, sure. But that was not the only obstacle the rain presented for us.

And then there was the part about being wet all day. Drenched to the bone, to be precise. While I felt that we still made good progress, walking for hours with every step making a slightly disturbing slurping sound was a miserable experience. I was pretty sure that Luna had a couple of decently useful spells, just as much as I was sure to know why she did not use them. They cost her a certain amount of energy and concentration and she would most likely not be able to keep them up for the entire duration. Or maybe she could — for today. But what about tomorrow? This close to the jungle, there was no telling how long this rain would last. Which really was a miserable prospect in its own right.

Another side effect of the thick gray cloud layer above our heads was the difficulty to tell when exactly it started to get late. Luna obviously knew when to raise the moon by instinct, but other than that? And we usually tried to set up camp before that point.

Luckily, though, the rain stopped in the late evening. The cloud cover was still there, still dark gray, foreboding and heavy, but the rain had stopped for now. It was… enough. Small mercies, yadda yadda.

We used the break to find a little ledge in the ravine’s walls that was elevated enough. Luna flew up and out of the ravine to retrieve some wood for a fire. There was little hope to find anything dry enough, but again: Magic was a game changer when it came to camping. Applejack would chide me for relying on it so much, though.

We had a little fire going soon enough, our tent was set up and secured and the overhang above us would hopefully provide enough shelter once the rain inevitably started again. This time, she pulled out all the stops. Spell after spell to dry the tent, to dry the wood, to dry us. When we finally settled in front of the fire, we were once again beat. The exhaustion from the first day had made sure that neither of us could complain too much about having a sore neck of back pain or anything like that, and judging by my own levels of fatigue, this night would be no different.

Luna eventually brought her horn to life and raised the moon with a soft glow of her magic. Not that either of us could see it, sadly.

“No dance tonight?” I asked with a wry smile.

She returned the smile and shook her head. “I have been doing this each and every night, three hundred and sixty days per year, for more years than I care to count. Not every night can be special. And quite honestly, I think I will be glad once this particular one ends.”

“Really now?” I joked around. “Whatever happened to ‘the night shall last forever’?”

While Luna grimaced slightly, she did also smile. “Let us just say that the nightmare had little knowledge of our world. She did not understand the futility of such a desire and the repercussions of enforcing its execution. Did we not talk about this yesterday? My sister is the life-giver. I am the one offering recuperation.”

Our understanding of dreamscape creatures was slowly changing. Evolving, maybe. Twilight was such a driving force behind many scientific studies. And she constantly spurred us on to do better. To be better. And to seek out greater understanding of the world around us. For a long time, both Luna and I had simply accepted the dreamscape as it was. But creatures like the Tantabus put into question what we thought we knew. About this realm, about its inhabitants, about its mechanics.

And I had not failed to notice that undertone in Luna’s voice. “You still struggle with this, don’t you?”

She searched for an answer for a few moments before giving up with a sigh. “How could I not? A great many things can be said about what was said and done back then and what could or should have been said and done. In the end, however, it all comes down to this: I witnessed the nightmare rampage, I witnessed her lash out against even those close to me and I did not struggle against her when I should have. It is hard to forgive ending lives, Dreamwalker. And impossible to forget.”

Her words hit me surprisingly hard. I knew that at some point, she started watching me. I felt it. Yet I remained silent as I struggled to free myself from the swamp of my memories. Images I dared not to take a closer look at vied for my attention. Sounds I dared not to listen to tried to make themselves heard. And I ultimately felt… empty. I shivered a little due to the sudden cold. “I wish I could agree,” I mumbled. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and released the air slowly, in a measured and even way.

“You killed?” she asked. There had been a significant pause between her last statement and this question. And she had apparently heard my whisper. For a fraction of a second, I regretted getting into this topic at all. But I had to remind myself that it was Luna I was talking to. Who would understand, if not her? There was already no judgment in her voice. Just genuine surprise.

“I did,” I answered. Many, many times.

“You never told me.” Still no accusation. Not even a trace of the burning curiosity I would have expected from Twilight, or the slightly manipulative undertone Celestia would have employed to coax more words out of me.

I sighed. “No. Nor have I told anypony else. Ever. And why would I? It’s not exactly a decent topic for banter and small talk.” It never comes up. And I was glad about that. Let bygones be bygones.

“Does Tia know?” she asked nevertheless. Was she concerned? For her sister’s sake, or mine?

I had already answered that question. But it was important enough to ask anyway, apparently. “No.”

We fell silent for a while. And we watched as the rain started to fall again. The ground of the ravine had not managed to absorb all the water yet, so some smaller lakes were still there to be refilled, streams swelled to rivers again and at least for now, we remained dry. As long as the direction of the wind would not change, we were safe.

“Would you tell me?” she continued.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I had hoped, truly hoped, she would not ask. I did not expect judgment from her. Twilight would have the most issues with this information, I guessed. She knew that I had reservations towards a certain race. And that there was more than just bad blood. Or bad memories. But she had never asked and I had never told her. Celestia would understand the causality of it all of course. But I did not want her to understand. And Luna? Luna probably understood the best why I did not want that. Because I felt guilty. And deserving of punishment. And here I was, constantly preaching how she should forgive herself.

I sighed once again. “Would you really wish to know? And I don’t mean like ‘put me through this’, more like… don’t you fear it might change… things?”

She fell silent again. A minute passed by. I listened to the rain fall. How it pitter-pattered onto the ground. I listened to the rush of the water in the small stream below our ledge. And to the occasional crackling of the fire.

“I like to think that I know you,” she eventually spoke up. “And with everything I know about you, this cannot be something that has happened in this life. You know I advocate for you to use your memories. And I will continue to do so. But there is an important distinction. A line to be drawn. These other lives are separate from this one.”

“And that should equal forgiveness?” I asked more harshly than I had intended. I quickly dipped my gaze. “Sorry.”

I heard her wing extend and a few of her soft, beautiful primaries came to rest under my chin and raised my head again. It hurt. Seeing genuine love and affection in her eyes, even now, especially now, hurt. I swallowed and tried to keep myself from tearing up.

“Please. Tell me.”

I tried to battle through my inner turmoil, but quickly realized that that simply would not happen. There was just too much to be addressed. I instead resigned to tell whatever I could remember. And each memory, well. They were all too eager to finally get some attention and recognition. So I started with a breathy voice. “We lived in Greenwood. Don’t worry if you don’t recognize the name. The village doesn’t exist this time around.”

I had always felt drawn to those ancient castle ruins. For me, as a writer, it was an inspiration. But there was so much more to it. I felt like I could still see the history this place had. Take part in it. Shape and change it. They never truly felt like ruins to me.

Some incidents took place. I am not entirely sure what exactly, I can’t quite remember. I was not married at the time, not engaged either, but I had gotten you pregnant. We knew that a public outcry would follow. And we wanted to hide, in a way. I had already toyed with the idea of rebuilding the castle. And now that we had a reason to do so… well. It is astounding how much can be done in comparatively little time when ponies really put their minds to it.

Greenwood started as a couple of tents for the masons and carpenters and other workers. We had secured the road with enchanted torches to keep predators at bay. Fluttershy had somehow managed to wrangle the manticores in the surrounding area to help us. Pinkie kept up morale. Applejack helped the first farmers to tame the land. It was grueling work. And Rainbow helped tame the weather. We worked with volunteers only. But our lifeline was Ponyville and Ponyvillians are a strange bunch.

In time, tents were replaced by houses. Greenwood was an opportunity. For misfits. For con-artists and other minor criminals wanting to start over. It was a true frontier town. And we attracted some strange fellows. Flim and Flam opened up a tavern. It worked well enough, they got the business side of things down. But they realized too late that they had no actual interest in the tavern-side. That was when Trixie entered the picture. They agreed on some sort of co-ownership. She dealt with the entertainment, they kept the books in order. And whatever coins they had spare, they invested in their workshop. They built machines helping with construction. They assembled a conveyor belt from the quarry to the ruins. Every task was a challenge and they thrived and rose to each and every one. They learned so much in the process... grew so much as ponies.

We even saw the return of Lightning Dust. Such a pain in the flank. And yet, under Rainbow's leadership, she turned over a new leaf. She quickly gained our trust. And became a leader of her own weather team. Applejack trained a new breed of hard-nosed farmers. Ponyville had never been anything but accepting and welcoming to same-sex relationships. And despite that, Lily and Daisy only dared to open up about it once they moved to Greenwood.

Derpy moved with us as well. ‘Somepony’s gotta make sure you get your mail on time’, she used to say. I think she really just missed us. Dinky was the first filly running around the place. Exploring. Adventuring. She later introduced all the newcomers to the various different nooks and crannies she had found.

And with months passing, we rebuilt the castle.

It was hard work. Sweat and tears and blood. We had to fight for every grain, every drop of water, every meal. It was such a fulfilling, satisfying time.

With the castle rebuilt, we moved in. And we had your little foal. Things were looking up.

There is a changeling hive within the Everfree Forest. Somewhere in the south-eastern parts, I believe. Their queen is called Forsestri. I never learned her name back then. Heck, I don’t even know if she was their queen in this cycle. All I know is that they felt threatened by our ‘expansion into their territory’. Things escalated quickly. Changelings are not exactly known for their diplomatic endeavors. They did not try talking. A patrol was ambushed, but managed to flee and inform us. However, the ambush had not aimed to capture them. They wanted to make them flee. Back to base. So they knew where to strike.

We had some really smart ponies in our ranks. We managed to catch wind of their plans before they executed them. They readied their forces, and with little time to react, so did we. Greenwood was still young. A town in its infancy. We were not ready for a war. We certainly were not warriors. But we were a feisty bunch and we loved our home. We had carved this niche ourselves. Raised these houses ourselves. We would defend what we had built.

Changelings are subversive though. Devious and tricky. The assault was just a front, a distraction. To keep us busy and occupied. What they really wanted was a bargaining chip. Something they could dangle in front of us to make us go away. They wanted their stupid, hostile forest back.

So they tried to take our foal.

You forbade me from fighting. I was a writer back then, not a warrior. I had not held a sword in my entire life. I tried to trick you, with expectable results. You went to war. To lead an army of farmers and weather ponies and a few night guards. And I was basically under house arrest. For my own safety.

It meant I was one of very few to notice the drones sneaking into the castle. One of the guards managed to alarm me before he got knocked out. And I ran. I ran for all I was worth. As fast as my hooves would carry me. And a single drone faced me. A single drone stopped me. I tried so hard to break through, but that god-forsaken bug just kept me at bay with ease.

While the other one cocooned our foal. And took off through a window.

I failed.

I failed to keep my family safe. I failed to overcome even a single enemy. You had been right all along — what use was I on a battlefield? And I grew angry. So very, very angry. So desperate. They had taken the only thing I loved even more than you.

At the time, I didn’t think about it. Something happened. Some sort of power boost. Some sort of transformation. What did I care? I felt invigorated. I didn’t mind the blinders, they helped. A single focus, a single thought. I squashed that drone like it was nothing. I remember that look in its eyes. Surprise. Pain. Horror. I snapped its legs like twigs. I broke its horn off with a stomp as it dared to defy me. I yelled. Demanded to know where their hive was. I ripped its wings out with my bare teeth and spit its vile blood onto the floor in disgust. There was no empathy within me. No pity, no compassion. I trampled its broken legs until the sheer pain made it talk. Just enough. And once I knew, I smashed its head.

I don’t know exactly how I made it there. Especially given that the battle was already ongoing. But I reached a hive that was almost abandoned. The hive was not as big as I had thought. And almost every drone was on the battlefield right now. Except for the very few guarding the spawning chambers.

And I left none of them alive.

I had never felt any association with ice. And yet I threw magically enhanced spears of them, pinned a bug to a wall like a butterfly in a display. I pinned its legs as it scrambled around. Until it stopped twitching.

Another one tried to flee. So I made the blood in its body freeze. The water expanded when it turned to ice. It was a horrifying sight. The exoskeleton burst open. Frozen solid, rigid, it cracked in numerous places and small ice spikes protruded from those cracks.

The chambers were full of eggs. A new generation of the hive, waiting to mature. The future of their hive, right before me.

On some level, I had realized that our foal wasn’t here. Their queen was leading the charge. And with you holding her at bay, they probably brought their ‘bargaining chip’ straight to her. To initiate ‘negotiations’.

I smashed the eggs. I froze entire caverns. There was no resistance. No drones alive. And with the hive utterly annihilated, I turned my attention to the battlefield.

This anger, it did not subside. I came from behind. The battle had already stopped. Just as they had expected — the moment they presented their threat, the real threat, you stopped. A mother will always put her foals first. Always.

As should a father.

I crashed into their rear lines like a hurricane. Like a force of nature. I reared up and with a cry for blood, stomped my hooves onto the ground, and in a half-circle before me, ice spikes shot out from the ground. Straight through chests and legs and wings and heads.

At that point, my memories get even fuzzier. I don’t know how many I killed. I don’t know how the battle ended. I don’t know what happened to me. While it is not a visual memory, no sound either, I do know that we got our foal back. For some reason, this singular thought was important enough to stick past the threshold of what I can remember.

And the really horrifying thing about all of this are not the vivid details in which I remember some of the atrocities I committed. No. It is the fact that… I remember versions of it.

I remember that first drone looking shocked. Too surprised to display any other emotion.

I remember that first drone being scared. Terrified beyond belief.

I don’t know how many there were. How many ‘first drones’. How many battles. How many spawning chambers I devastated. How many changelings I skewered on that battlefield. Only that it happened in multiple cycles.

When I finally stopped, I felt sick to my stomach. My breathing had become erratic and I felt the streaks the tears had left on my cheeks. I felt like choking and puking and fainting and at the same time, I felt so incredibly tired. Heavy and exhausted.

My memories retreated slowly. Back into the depths where they lingered. Until they would vie for attention once more. Or maybe… maybe that was it. Maybe I was done with this now? It would have been a mercy. One I might not have deserved.

“Back then,” I finished with a hoarse voice, “I did not have a name for it. For… him. I did not care to ask or think about it. But I would venture a guess what his name is.”

Throughout the entire retelling, Luna had remained silent. To a certain extent, she had even played the same game Celestia so often employed. Unwilling to let me see her reactions in full, she had put on a stony façade. A mask. And at the time, I had not minded much. It made it easier to get all of it out in one go.

Now however, I could not help but ask myself. What was she thinking? What had she been thinking this entire time? I still failed to spot any judgment in her eyes. There was only sympathy, much to my dismay. I was pretty sure that it was not sympathy I deserved. But then again, these feelings of ‘deserving punishment’, they usually only lingered when I was getting too close to these specific memories.

One of the reasons why I usually tried to keep my past lives strictly separate from this one. I was Dreamwalker, I was my own pony, and I was not that guy in those memories. I would never commit genocide.

It was a lovely lie to tell myself.

And I was quite decent at convincing myself, too.

“Is that why you avoid the castle?” she finally spoke again. That brief moment of confusion must have shown on my face as she quickly elaborated. “Twilight told me that after your defeat of the farmer, you rarely ever visited the ruins again. Despite your joy about finding some strange, misplaced trees there.”

“Apple trees,” I specified with a sigh. “Not just any apple trees, either. These very trees stand in Applejack's west orchard. And I mean: They stand there, right there, right now, and they stand in the ruin's courtyard. We taught Stardust flying in the courtyard. He would jump from the lower tree branches and flap his tiny little wings. And either you or me would help him along a little. We taught him climbing as well. I know these trees. Maybe not as good as Applejack. But I know their branches. The patterns in their bark. They are the very same trees I recognize from some of my memories. Which makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. This kind of crossover should not be possible. And yes, I was overjoyed to see them. For a few precious moments, it felt like… like everything was connected. I wasn’t just this incoherent, jumbled patchwork. And I had not abandoned or lost countless loves and lives and families. For a moment, I could believe that they were still there. Somewhere out there. And maybe I could reach them. I… I’m not sure if I really thought about returning. It was less of a conscious thought. But as time went on, doubt started to slowly creep up on me. I remember Greenwood. I remember it quite fondly. There’s so much we managed to achieve. I’m not sure where Flim, Flam, Trixie and so many others are these days. In this life. I haven’t bothered to look into that. But I remember them as hardy, complex friends. Good friends. And they aren’t. I met Lightning Dust a couple of years back when I started my night guard training, with her in my class no less. I think I can call her a friend. And I sometimes wondered: Is this what she did before she came to Greenwood? Or is this what she would have done instead of Greenwood? I don’t know. And these musings aren’t exactly productive. I can’t keep busying myself with what ifs. I really shouldn’t. I have a life to live. Friends to meet, loves to make happy and a home I quite enjoy. I can’t make heads or tails of this stuff… and I’m unwilling to waste time and energy on it. Not when…” I sighed deeply. I was missing the point. Or rather, I was talking circles around it. To avoid it. “I fear a repeat,” I finally addressed it directly. “Every memory of Greenwood, as good as they are, always seems to be connected to this kind of disaster. I know that Twilight has already established diplomatic connections with queen Forsestri and that the hive has been nothing but compliant so far. But I just can’t… this anger, it’s still there. Somewhere. And I am not risking what I have.”

Luna watched me in silence for a while. Eventually, she sighed. “We share some concerning traits,” she stated with a sad smile. “This anger you feel. I know it well, I think. And if I am not mistaken, I am the harbinger of bad news. It will never go away. In every decision I make, and many times even in the words I chose, I have those same regrets and fears play a vital part. Or at least they try to influence me. I count myself a lucky mare. I returned to my subjects redeemed. By my future love, no less. The love of my life. I have loved before, many times, but never like this. I have her and I have you and I am accepted for who I am. The times have changed and my beloved sister welcomed me back. She forgave me, and things are looking up, as they say. And all of it feels…”

“Fragile,” I entered into the void she deliberately left there. “Like it could fall apart every second now. All that bliss and happiness, just a prelude to more horrors.”

Luna smiled and nodded. “Exactly. We fear to be happy for we fear to be hurt. It is a drab way of thinking. You can learn to live with those fears. With that anger. The same way I had to learn and honestly still do. You dread to repeat those mistakes, yet you claim that you are not the same pony of those memories. Is learning from the experiences of others objectionable? If you truly believe that the Dreamwalker in those other lives is not the one sitting right beside me, right now… then what difference does it make to learn from his life and his mistakes, than from anypony else's?”

I chuckled. Despite the dire topic, I could not help myself. Of course she would still advocate using these memories. Despite everything I had told her. Despite the pain and fear and guilt and anger awaiting within them. But that was what she did, was it not? She had been Nightmare Moon. She had felt guilt and remorse and she had repented. Nowadays, she could jest about it. Laugh about it. Nightmare Moon had killed ponies or contributed to their deaths. I had no numbers to pin to this horrifying statistic, but did I really need those? It was a disgusting thought that one day, I might reach that same spot. The point where I would be able to joke about that.

Was it wrong? Was it right? What did those words even mean anymore?

I sighed deeply. “I’m just trying to be a decent pony. I had honestly never expected that to be this hard…”

She ruffled my hair a little. “You are a decent pony. You just get confused a lot. But that is what you have us for, is it not?”

I shook my head, but had to smile at the same time. “Sure. Who am I to disagree with my pretty moonbutt?”

She laughed. And with every second that she did so, I felt the heavy blanket lift a little and breathing became that tiny bit easier. After she calmed down, she laid down on her side and pulled me along with her. “Time to get some exercise,” she quietly said.

I was so not looking forward to yet another busy dreamscape night. Especially not with all the emotional turmoil we had brought up and that was obviously still lingering in my head, just pushed to the sidelines for now. But maybe… maybe a distraction was exactly what I needed right now.

A few days of travel later and those worries and concerns were all but forgotten. The ravine seemed to go on forever and ever and ever and we found plenty of smaller ledges and even some decent caves to make our camp.

The dreamscape kept us busy at night. And the trek south kept us busy throughout the day. We had even found a little routine for ourselves. While I assembled the tent, Luna took a quick detour to the jungle and tried to find something to spice up our Allfood. After all, that zap apple jam had barely survived day two.

Due to this idea, we now had an arrangement of fruits in our bags. Avocados, first and foremost. But an almost ripe pineapple and two mangos as well. The latter she could have all to herself for all that I cared.

We were running a little late this evening. It had taken us some extra time to find a spot for our camp with which we were satisfied. Luna raised the moon after dinner and with the campfire merrily crackling away, I got to work on the last chore of the day.

Which really was not a chore any longer.

I slowly massaged along her foreleg, feeling for any tension in her muscles and potential little knots and slowly getting rid of them once found. Once I was done with her leg, I kissed the underside of her hoof and lowered it down to repeat the process with the next one.

When I reached her second hindleg, I held it aloft even after I finished and, remembering that first night on the tracks, slowly traced my tongue around the edge and across it. And I had her full attention in no time. I answered her smirk with a grin of my own. “Do you like my hooves?” she sultrily whispered and pushed it closer to my muzzle.

I’m actually not into this, I wondered. Really, I was not. And I would have bet that, given other circumstances, it would not have worked. But here and now and especially with her? It just did. For some reason, Luna could get me going with stuff I never perceived as even remotely sexy. “I do like them,” I confirmed quietly. “But then again, I like just about any part of you.”

Is that so?, her smoldering gaze seemed to ask as she slowly rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Show me.

I kissed and licked a little trail down her leg and worked my way towards my goal. Her gaze followed me all the way to her thighs and finally, her nethers. I traced the tip of my tongue around her teats in small circling motions and spiraled inwards in a teasing manner. I suckled just a little while I busied my hooves with exploring her rump thoroughly and eventually made my way to her tail and upwards, across her sphincter to her folds. My tongue followed down there and after some teasing to get her all hot and bothered, I dared to explore her further and pushed my tongue into her before trailing it upwards over her clit in a long stroke.

Her breathing grew heavier as I continued. I fixed her legs wide open with my hooves and pushed my muzzle even further against her. I got drunk as I inhaled the scent of her arousal and tasted her on my lips. I even got a little adventurous and, seeing how her juices flowed down over her sphincter, dared to let my tongue circle around it for a round or two. And I was rewarded with a gasp and a giggle.

“How bold,” she uttered in between pants.

“You always make it a delight,” I muttered in reply and returned my attention to her clit. Seeing as I knew halfway decently what I was doing, I had some control over the speed with which she was getting closer. And I slowly raised it until the moment I felt a little too intoxicated myself and just dove straight in, aiming for the finish line. She pawed at the ground in surprise about the sudden onslaught, but her moans only increased in volume and intensity until her hips bucked and she started to tremble. Her erratic breathing hitched and a long, otherworldly howl escaped her throat as she climaxed.

I could feel how stiff and rigid I was and the mere thought of taking her right now was so incredibly hard to resist — but I wanted her to get the most out of it and so I remained where I was, greedily lapping up whatever she gave and extending her bliss for a couple seconds longer.

I only pulled back after she collapsed, her arched back fell to the ground and her forelimbs went slack.

“How are you so much better at this than Twilight,” she breathlessly whispered much to my surprise. “… it does not make any sense…”

I had to fight hard to keep myself from snorting and laughing. I even considered if I should address her comment at all. She clearly was not in her right mind. Maybe she was not even aware that she spoke out loud? Either way, such comparisons were unusual. We obviously made them in our heads. It was impossible not to do that occasionally. But we kept quiet about it, because, well — it could be quite hurtful. Twilight would most certainly not approve of her comment, I was sure of that much. But at the same time, I felt my chest swell with pride. Because this time, I had not been the one to get the short straw.

Her question, if it even had been one to begin with, was admittedly easily answered. I had loved her in more than one sense of the word many times. Many times more than Twilight, as I was still inevitably using some of that knowledge from previous lives. I was relying on experience that I should not have.

There was an interesting thought in the midst of this, however. Maybe one day, if things would change and we would not keep each relationship quite as separate from the others, I could teach Twi a trick of two. Right now, in my highly aroused state, it certainly presented a very desirable scenario. Twilight stuck between Luna and me. Her muzzle buried between Luna's folds while I took her at my own leisure.

I felt an impatient throb from downstairs and chuckled. No wrong way to fantasize, I reminded myself.

“I have an idea,” Luna said. For a confusing second, I had thought that I had said that. That I had lost control and started to give voice to my depraved little fantasy. But no, Luna had returned to this mortal realm and her gaze was still very much on fire and currently fixed on my throbbing little issue.

“I’m all ears,” I replied with a smirk.

“Come here. Stand over me,” she instructed and subsequently continued to adjust my position until she brought her hooves up. Their touch against my member sent a jolt right up my spine and a moan out of my throat. This is so not my kink, I reminded myself in soon overwhelmed bewilderment as her strokes quickly picked up speed. Leave it to my kitten to make it work anyway.

I felt my legs stiffen as my climax drew near. I knew she watched me. Watched every second, every reaction she could elicit. I had not realized when or why I had pressed my eyelids shut, but I forced them back open and stared straight into hers, straight into her unashamed desire. And I could see how much she enjoyed it. Just how much it turned her on to watch the pleasure she caused me. It was almost too much to bear to witness the intensity of her desire. “I’m close,” I tried to warn her. “I don’t—“

I shut my mouth and grunted in an effort to resist as her strokes only quickened once more. Her grip tightened as well. “You do not wish to make a mess of me?” she guessed with such a playful, teasing tone. I nodded and my eyes snapped back open as she kissed me. Her tongue eagerly danced with mine, she delighted in every moan her ministrations sent out of my throat and she only pulled apart to go for the finishing blow. “I already told you, firecracker. I like it messy!”

Not fair.

There was so much genuine lust in her eyes in that very moment she spoke, so much wanton desire, that it pushed me well past the edge. I clenched my eyes shut again, but it was too late. My hip bucked on its own and my very core trembled as I shot string after string in between us. And just like I had done with her, she kept going with her hooves until the very end, until she almost risked overstimulation.

When I came back to my senses, I was panting like crazy. How does she do that every. Single. Time?

I looked down at her and grimaced for a brief moment. Oh yes, she was a mess, alright. My grimace was quickly replaced by a goofy grin though. In my post-climax haze, she was admittedly the most beautiful mess I had ever seen and seeing more or less her entire body covered was so incredibly hot right now. There was some in her mane and a little bit on her chin and I cared little as I dove for a ferocious kiss. She had this adorable, genuinely joyful smile that I could not resist at all and only after I managed to pull away for air did I even think about anything else again.

And my little kitten purred in utter satisfaction and grinned like a madpony. “That was something I had wanted to try for some time now.”

“It was?” I asked bemusedly. She nodded. “And your verdict?”

She looked down on herself and traced over the mess I had made with an idle hoof. The sigh that followed spoke of deep content. “Most definitely worth a repeat.” The tone of her voice was enough to make me twitch again and with a quiet chuckle, I took a step back. She fixed her eyes on me and that sultry look returned. “Care to help me clean up?” she grinned.

I nodded and levitated the bottle of water out of her bag, only to find her pouting. Only then did I catch her intention and grimaced. “I love you. Very much. But you’re not getting me close to that.” I had kissed her after climaxing in her mouth on more than enough occasions. Heck, I had kissed her a few seconds earlier and for all I knew—… point was: There was a distinction between following my gut in the heat of the moment and deliberately going out of my way for it.

Probably.

Luna just grinned and apparently took that refusal as a challenge. “I will convince you someday,” she just stated in her impressive, albeit not unfounded confidence.

And that was the exact reason I grimaced again. “Probably,” I admitted. She was the one I was trying the most new stuff with, after all — and occasionally risky and/or weird stuff as well.

At least I was decently happy that we both seemed quite satisfied. On any other normal day, I would have loved to go for a second round after a short break, but honestly, those last few days of trekking in the ravine had been exhausting and no amount of nice hoof massages and snuggles could outweigh the sheer fatigue that came with it. Especially with our dreamscape duties being so gosh-darn busy as well.

So I helped her clean up as promised and we made ourselves comfortable near the fire again soon after. We had a cave to work with, so the tent was erected but unused so far. I sat near the exit, turned to the outside so I could see the stars and Luna used my haunches as a pillow. I knew that this was quite comfortable with Celestia. And Luna. And Twilight. But a mare’s hips were a little bit more plush than mine. However, she seemed perfectly fine, so I mentally shrugged and let her be.

That was until I felt her shift a little and knew that she looked towards me. “What is it?” I quietly asked.

I grinned as I felt her lips press against my cutie mark, right before she settled down again. “Would you spin me a tale?”

An unexpected request. But not unwelcome. “Do you have something in mind?” I asked.

But she shook her head. “No.”

A tale. Any tale. While I thought about possibilities, my gaze was drawn up to the stars. With the sky clear, one could probably see for miles. From one horizon to the other. Even down here in the ravine, we could see a good deal of her pretty work. Of her talent at play.

They twinkled. And they sometimes seemed to dim down just a little only to glow stronger the next second. As if they were talking. Maybe with each other. Or with us. Little light signals to communicate. And what was communication if not telling stories?

Horrible segue, I chided myself while I smiled.

“Sure. I think I have one,” I agreed before I quickly added, “You might want to watch the sky for it though.” Just in case she had her eyes closed. I lit up my horn and played a little color by numbers with a tendril of magic as I connected stars like dots with small lines of light, eventually drawing the shapes of my protagonists and their exploits into the night sky.

“This is the tale of two constellations, the shaman and the scholar,” I explained. And since it was usually easiest to stick to the familiar and I was certainly no artist, I kept it simple. Something vaguely resembling Zecora was my shaman, while Sunburst — bless his heart — was my scholar. Shipping ensued.

A long, long time ago, there was a village at the edge of a wild and untamed forest. The forest was said to be the home of many spirits. Some called it blessed, others called it haunted. Few ever dared to enter the woods. And why would they? They had everything they needed. They were an honest lot. Hard-working and devout. They toiled, and the land rewarded them and provided.

The lone hut at the very edge of the forest however was home to the village’s shaman. She was a young one, but already wise far beyond her years. She was a strange one, too. Not shunned or outcast, no. The villagers appreciated her hard work, her dedication and her wise counsel. But the shaman had difficulties relating to the villagers. Something as simple as keeping up a conversation appeared impossible at times.

The forest, however. Oh, the forest. She perfectly understood that realm. All the intricacies. The correlations between breeding seasons of small critters and the numbers of predators. How the birds sang songs to alarm each other of danger. How snakes guarded their nests only for a while and how protective a sounder of wild boar could be. She understood the poisons in these mushrooms and how delectable others were. She understood how the water flowed beneath the ground and how the rocks grew out of it.

The Villagers had a point, of course. The forest was dangerous to those uneducated and they had little interest to listen and learn. The shaman brought home her herbs with every trip and provided them with remedies of all kinds. And they were grateful to have her.

But in that forest, an ancient guardian spirit woke from his long slumber. His destiny was to guard, to keep the forest safe, healthy and growing. And he had slept for long, as no threat was around and his days were empty. He wandered his domain in search of distraction. For a reason not to sleep for a few decades longer. And he soon witnessed the shaman enter his realm.

His wariness quickly melted away as he watched her interact with his subjects. He always stayed hidden from her as he felt that she was able to see him. For you see, few are ever born with this rare gift and our mortal realm and the spirit world are meant to be separate.

As the days passed by and he saw her careful steps, he grew fond of this strange visitor from beyond his realm. From beyond the borders he could not cross. He wondered where she went when she did. Or where she came from when she did.

As his feelings deepened, he eventually started to see her as one of their own. And as such, his wariness was no longer warranted. So one day, he stepped out of his hiding spot.

The shaman had seen spirits before. Spirits of the recently passed. Minor spirits of the forest. But she had yet to see a spirit like him. She addressed him with both respect and curiosity. And they quickly grew fond of each other. Days turned to weeks and weeks into months. What once was a friendship only deepened further to a level that had no name yet. They both shied away from giving it one as they knew all too well: The mortal realm and the spirit world are meant to be separate. Her gift was a quirk, a stray from normalcy. They would never feel the other's touch.

One day, the shaman entered the woods in search of herbs for her remedies. She expected the spirit to find her eventually, like he had done so many times before. Yet it was her that stumbled upon someone else. Deep in the forest, lost for days after his supplies had already run out, she found a stranger. Dehydrated from thirst, poisoned by the berries he had consumed in his hunger and wounded from one too many tumbles.

She took the stranger home and cared for him. She slowly nursed him back to health with water, food and hospitality. And in his gratitude, the stranger shared his story with her. A wandering scholar he was. He traveled the lands out of wanderlust and curiosity. The land was wild, untamed and full of magnificent beasts and lore. Just like her, he had so many stories to tell, despite his few years. And just like her, a deep-seated thirst for knowledge burned within him.

He kept her entertained and in awe with his many stories of faraway lands and mystical beings. He made her laugh with his recollection of failings and successes. And they talked and talked for hours and days and weeks and months.

And love bloomed where fertile ground was provided.

One day, the scholar’s recovery was finished and while his thirst for travel was quenched for the time being, his thirst for knowledge was not. Much had she told him of this magical forest, of its many intricacies and wonders. And side by side, for the first time in a long while, they re-entered the forest.

For as relieved as the spirit was to see her again, he remained wary of this other being. This stranger at her side, this unwelcome, bumbling fool who did not understand or care to tread carefully. And how jealousy filled his heart when he realized that this stranger had stolen away his beloved!

In a bout of rage, he called out for the forest to aid him, and unjudging, unerring, the forest answered the call. Squirrels sprang from the trees to bite at him and doe came running to kick him and foxes scurried about to gnaw at his ankles and a bear roared and swiped at him.

The shaman was shocked. What madness had befallen the forest and all these animals? But there was no time to ask, was there? No. She had to defend the scholar who was yet to be educated on the many ways of this forest, who was yet defenseless against the beasts. And so she stepped in. And she tried so hard to spare as many lives as she could.

And she did.

But she could not spare all.

The animals cried out for help, cried out in pain and confusion. Why, spirit — they asked. Why are we to attack the one who is welcome? One of our own? Why is she attacking us?

And their cries of pain and the loss of some pierced through the haze the spirit had fallen into.

He finally snapped out of his trance and he dispersed the creatures of the wild and he showed himself to the shaman. He pleaded his case and he begged for her forgiveness. But all the shaman could see was the blood on the leaves of the bushes and the tiny little bodies, unmoving on the ground, and she wept and fled in grief and despair, fled the forest without a second thought to the scholar who had become lost in here once before.

How easy it would have been, the spirit considered. How easy to get rid of him, once and for all, now that he was defenseless and lost once more. But enough blood had been shed and enough life had been lost. The spirit resigned to let his regret be his teacher. And this bumbling fool was but a child: Curious but uneducated.

So he resigned to teach him. He taught him of danger when the birds sang their songs. He taught him to find the streams to quench his thirst. And he taught him to tread carefully.

And through these lessons, the scholar learned more than the spirit had intended. Much had the shaman told him about. Of beasts and herbs and spirits alike. He had not imagined her being literal and yet all these coincidences, these whispers in the winds, these animals so focused on leading him on.

And so the scholar devised a plan of his own. Lost in a forest he might be, but was he not a scholar? Was he not knowledgeable? Had he not survived many adventures?

While he mixed poisonous berries and water from the stream, herbs from the ground and mushrooms from the trees, he explained his plan to the air around him and all the animals listened and the spirit understood. Two vials were produced. One would stop his heart. And one would reignite it.

The spirit had led him so far, the scholar concluded. He could have killed him many times. He had not. It was time to be an adult and talk. So he emptied the first vial and crumbled to the floor. His spirit unshackled from his body. They would not have much time before either the antidote was administered or the call of the Great Beyond would draw his spirit away forever.

Time was of the essence. So they talked quickly and spoke frankly. And they reached an understanding. They even reached an arrangement with which both could live happily, for the scholar respected the spirit and his feelings and was willing to share. Willing to allow the spirit to explore a world beyond his forest. Willing to take him on as a passenger, so that the spirit may control his body when the scholar slept.

Two souls, bound in a mortal shell, returned from the forest to the village on their own. They found the shaman still in grief and dried her tears. Long nights followed and harsh words were spoken and yet love is a hardy bloom not easily crushed.

They lived happily ever after, as they say. Until the day they did not any more. For the mortal realm bears its name with good reason and our shells are designed to fail us one day. To unshackle our spirits and make way for a new generation of life.

When their bodies failed and death finally did part them, the forest guardian was released once more. Free to return to his duties and yet bound by memories. He lifted the shaman and the scholar, lifted their spirits high into the sky and into the heavens where they became stars. So that he could see them every night and remember them for all of eternity and they would be with him, gazing upon his forest from above.

With a flicker, the last remnants of my magic traced the same picture in the starry night sky as it had done at the start. The picture of the shaman and the scholar. My voice was a little raspy as I finished with the obligatory “The end.”

I smiled. I was fully content at this moment. Content with myself and the world and my work and… everything. Everything was fine. And for a few precious seconds, I could believe that. It was not just a phrase I told myself to keep calm.

I was at peace.

My smile spread into a little grin as I heard Luna sniffle quietly. Or maybe I had imagined it? I craned my neck and saw her look at me. Her expression was hard to read. Gratitude. Empathy. A certain amount of sadness. But her smile was genuine. “May I ask you something?”

‘You just did’ was at the tip of my tongue, but I held it in. I just nodded instead.

“I knew what kind of story you would tell me. I knew it before I asked,” she admitted. “And as beautiful as this story was, I have to wonder… why a romance story?”

I smiled guiltily. Asking myself if I really was that predictable was getting old. It was getting predictable. I was pretty much an open book to just about anypony and I saw no reason to change that. Rarity often insisted that a certain mysterious flair would add greatly. Both to an otherwise bland personality as well as to any and all romances. I never saw the point in it. “Because romance stories are the best stories, in my humble opinion. They are profound. Just about any other story can benefit greatly from including some romance. There’s a reason for that. We have basic needs which directly result in our wish to avoid certain consequences. We can die of thirst, hunger, wounds. And our survival instinct tells us: Get food. Get water. Rest. But life is more than just that. We are not meant to be alone. We crave company. We thrive with company. Some need less than others, sure. But we all desire to not be alone. Because deep down, we know a simple truth. You can die from loneliness too. And it is the most gruesome of deaths. It is agonizingly slow. Torturously painful. We are not meant to be alone. And as a storyteller… I want to inspire hope. I want to inspire hope in that it does not have to be that way. Those that are lonely don’t have to stay lonely. That there will always be a way. It might be unconventional. Quirky. Maybe even frowned upon. But there are ways to not suffer loneliness. And seeing someone be happy in good company is a nice feeling. Especially if it is someone you care about.”

Luna furrowed her brow a little. “I am not lonely,” she stated in a mixture of mild confusion and disagreement.

I smiled and sparked my horn to life to softly caress her cheek. “Yes you are. We all are sometimes. But that’s okay. That’s what we have each other for. And why I tell stories.”