Twilight gasped as she slumped forward. The bright lights atop the ceiling beamed down to the centre of an amphitheatre—tall rows of seats spanning upward in a semi-circle. Dark silhouettes of the crowd, like a procession before an altar, silent and gaping, dead eyes fixed to the centre of their pulpit. Twilight sat alone in the centre, before her a heightened podium; the grey shabby stallion sat in ponderous judgement of her.

His smile stretched thinly over pallid flesh, and his grey eyes blinked with inky spots, merging and separating constantly. The shadows across his face produced an almost skull-like visage.

“So, what about it?” he half asked, half hissed. Yellow bile dripped down across his chin. A rotten apple lay at his side, covered in incessantly buzzing flies.

“What about what?” she responded almost instinctively. The feeling of claustrophobia was overwhelming. She tried to push herself away, but the chair refused to move. The crowd appeared closer suddenly, just out of touching distance.

“Your friends?” She narrowed her eyes, and not from the oppressive glare of the lights.

“What about them?”

“You are close, aren’t you?” he queried, despite clearly knowing the answer to the question asked already. There was a wet splat as a liquid dripped from a leak from the ceiling. Twilight turned her gaze upward; a black splotch had spread there, and its contents fell intermittently to the table below, where it sizzled.

“We are.”

He adjusted himself to be closer to them, his voice dipped low. “You rely on them?” Twilight resisted the urge to back away—not that she could go anywhere. She stiffened in her seat, her head held high—another drip from the ceiling.

“Yes, I do. They are my world.”

“Isn’t that sweet? I imagine they form a considerable part of your success. Shoulders to bear the load. Purveyors of advice and emotional comfort, too.”

“As I said, I rely on them. That isn’t news.”

“No, of course.” He nodded his head. “The Princess of Friendship does require friends.” He lingered on the statement for a moment before continuing. “It does raise some troubling questions, does it not?” Twilight’s wings twitched in agitation.

“If you suggest my friends have some form of nefarious influence over me and my duties, you are very much mistaken.”

“I would never suggest such salacious slander,” the Host said as he laid a cracked yellow hoof across his chest. “But to the tricky matter at hoof, you are an alicorn, and they mere mortals.” Twilight stared at her opposite number; her breaths felt heavy.

“I don’t follow.”

“Ah, ah, ah, it is rude to tell fibs,” he pronounced, a trail of spit following his final word. “You know exactly what I am talking about. Don’t you?”

She was a flurry of emotions contained only by the paralysing sense of tightness in her chest, which wedded to her seat. But her mind could only be defined by the chaotic and contradictory impulses that tugged relentlessly for her immediate attention. One part of her wished to smack him, another to crawl into a corner away from the harshness of his words.

But instead, she did neither. She could only look on, a slight twitch of the mouth betraying her distress. But even her eyes found no respite, only the judging faces of the audience and by the expressions on her face, she was failing. There were no avenues for exit, only the question, the questioner and a captive audience that waited patiently for her answer. Her recourse was simple: to push through.

“One day, my friends will be gone, yes.” She stopped, considered her admission, and continued, finding no way to sidestep the Host’s trap. “And I will remain.”

“And then what? What is the Princess of Friendship without her friends?” Whether it be the glare of the lights or Twilight merely seeing something, his eyes were shining with a golden tinge. Red veins danced in the whites, and he blinked blearily to clear what discomfort had taken them.

“I haven’t thought about it,” she admitted. She hugged one of her wings and gripped it tightly, a piece of driftwood to a drowning mare.

“The smartest mare alive hasn’t thought about this?” The Host practically rocked with laughter. The crowd followed suit. She did not move; her protests were lost in the whirlwind; the heaviness of her breathing came as another unpleasant sign of her rising upset. He did not wait. There was no respite, no moment of peace; the disrobement needed to be complete. A good host does not let silence be their partner, so he continued in a stinging tone. “What will you do when you are alone?”

“I am not alone,” she rebuked, but the effect came off as a whimper. The desperate pleading of a mare that knew her words rang hollow. “I won’t be alone. I have…”

“The princesses?” the Host offered; he tilted his head slightly.

The ceiling dripped.

“Gone off into retirement, why would they hang around playing nurse?” He tapped his hoof against the table. “Your niece? She’ll be running the Crystal Empire, hardly the shoulder to lean on. Aren’t you supposed to be the adult?”

He snorted at his speculation; the edges of his black gums became evident in his smile. Another few droplets crashed against the table.

He sighed wistfully. “And dear Spike...”

“Spike?” she asked, frightened.

“He, too, will leave,” he whispered. “Grow old and fly to wherever dragons go.” His drunk-sick eyes bore into her. Several drops crashed against the table. Splat, splat, splat they went. “And then that leaves…you.”

“Me?”

“You are all alone, trying to keep it together, but you know you can’t. Without them, all of them, you are just a neurotic little librarian playing pretend.”

Splat.

The table overflowed with rotten black slime, which hissed and burned in the light. A foul odour of spoiled vegetables and sun-cooked seaweed filled the air.

“But we can see the truth. The real mare beneath the mask you, oh so, love to indulge them with.” He gestured dismissively to his adoring fans. Were those canines amongst his set of teeth? A stray thought whispered to her. “Nowhere to hide now, Miss Sparkle. No magic rainbows to save you this time. Now everyone knows who you really are!”

She shook her head, her mouth agape in horror at his words, but her protests died in her mouth. A noiseless scream she let forth, her chair flung back. The horrid black drip on the table had crawled up her forehoof and continued until the threads of what appeared to be a reeking web had spun onto her. Yet she could not struggle against it; she felt it constrict around her; reeking tar swept her nostrils. The studio erupted in black rainfall as it flooded the stage. Only the Host looked on. Not a single besmirching mark lay upon his shabby suit. His voice echoed and reverberated louder than anything an actual pony could speak.

“You’ll even forget them. Their names, their faces. Soon, it all becomes a blur.”

Her eyes widened further as the dreadful branches wrapped around her. A terrible revelation struck her still in horror. His mouth no longer moved. It remained affixed in a broad, empty smile.

He had spoken to her through thoughts.

Every aspect and concern lay bare, with no escape even in her solitude. His gaze pierced into the depths of her fears. She struggled and clawed for her magic, but it would not come. The darkness consumed her. The singular thought continued to echo in the void.

“All alone.”

Twilight awoke with a jolt. Profoundly disorientated, she almost fell out of her seat, only to be caught by two outstretched claws. She nearly lashed out to escape them, the nightmare still evident in her mind before her vision became clear. Spike stood close, concern apparent in his eyes.

“Jeez, Twilight!” He gently righted her into the chair. Twilight grimaced at her drool, which pooled on whatever government documents she had been reviewing.

“Spike? she asked blearily, yawning once. “Sorry, I was just resting my eyes.” Spike stood back, his claws on his hips.

“Twilight, this is the third time today I’ve caught you napping,” he said disapprovingly.

“I haven’t–

“–been sleeping well,” he finished. “Yes, I’ve heard you say that every time over the past few weeks.” He sighed as he shook his head. “Twilight, the staff are beginning to talk. You can barely stay awake in meetings. You are not even reading like you used to!” Twilight scowled deeply.

“Spike, it’s not like I’m doing this deliberately.” Slowly, she reorientated the documentation into a neat pile; her magic sent the water-damaged document to lay beneath a nearby window to dry. “I’ve even been to the doctor. I’m just tired, is all, and the dreams…”

“Yeah, sitting in a crowded room being interviewed by some jerk,” Spike repeated. He crossed his arms, staring at his charge.

“He says it’s stress-related,” Twilight said. “I guess my responsibilities are taking a toll on me.” She shot him a reassuring smile. “It’s nothing, just a stupid nightmare.” Spike moved to speak, but Twilight waved him off. “And before you say I’m doing great, I know. That’s why it is anxiety; it is irrational.” She chuckled dryly. Spike continued to seem unimpressed.

“This has been going on for weeks, Twi. You, more than anyone, know nightmares can be more than that. That’s why we need to move beyond a mere doctor.” Twilight frowned and turned her head to him.

“That’s silly, Spike; who?” Finally, the little drake smiled a sly, devious grin. Confusion flashed briefly across Twilight’s face before the realisation of his words sank in.

“Oh no.”

The former Princess of the Night did not speak for a good while. She appeared to be deep in thought as she occasionally took a small sip of the tea provided. After some time, she gently placed the cup on the table before her. Her azure eyes opened, fixed squarely on Twilight, who sat opposite her.

“I must say, Princess, I am most concerned,” Luna spoke softly. Twilight could not resist the urge to groan.

“Luna, it's Twilight. We’ve known each other for years.” The former princess could not suppress a mischievous little grin from adorning her face.

“But it is so very amusing to see you oh so averse to the formalities of your position.”

“Har-Har,” Twilight intoned as she put down her cup. “Formalities do not concern me, least of all in front of you, Princess.” Luna laughed fully now, like bells' gentle tingling, before speaking again.

“I must admit, I have missed your company, Twilight,” Luna said. “It has been far too long.” Twilight returned the smile, grateful for the brevity.

“Ruling a nation tends to disrupt things.”

“I understand better than most,” Luna chuckled. “To the matter at hoof, Spike has told me much of what you have experienced.” The young dragon perked up at the mention of his name.

“Yes, he’s been very diligent,” Twilight grudgingly admitted, sparing the moment to shoot the drake a glare. He smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

“You should not be too hard on him, Twilight. Much of what he has relayed disturbs me.” Luna’s expression turned serious, and whatever relief Twilight enjoyed from reconnecting with a friend evaporated. Luna inspected Twilight closely, who flinched slightly. “Your sleep is disturbed of late?”

“Yes, it has been,” Twilight said softly. Suddenly, the night's fatigue swept over her, and she slumped in her seat. “I’ve tried everything: medication, deep sleep therapy. But…”

“But?”

Twilight slumped. “I underwent observation, and the doctor noticed no physical reason for the breaks in my sleep rhythm.”

“We’re clueless, is what she is saying,” Spike summarised. Luna sat, eyes squinted, as she considered things. After some time, she spoke again. “No one else is having any sort of similar issues, so it seems only Twilight is affected.”

“Your nightmare, is it the same every night?” Luna asked gently.

“Well…relatively the same,” Twilight said. “It’s difficult to remember. My doctor assures me it’s just latent anxiety. Some ponies dream of shattered teeth constantly. He says it will pass once I am more settled into my role.”

“The court physician is an astute fellow,” Luna stated. “But he is very wrong.” Twilight blinked, mouth agape.

“How?”

Luna inhaled before she spoke, her features grave and her lips a thin line. “Your nightmare is unnatural and did not originate within your mind. The realm of dreams has long been my charge, and I have encountered all manner of nightmares. This one is too…particular. There is a manner of fabrication present that is unmistakable to me.

“That was not the only reason why I came. I will admit something to you of which I am not proud. I had tried to enter your dream before we met today. Before you say that this is alright and you trust me, this is no matter of mere trust. I firmly believe in not prying into the dreams of those dear to me unless absolutely necessary. After Spike told me of your dream, I acted rashly and sought to crush this nightmare.”

“But Twilight is still having this nightmare!” Spike protested.

“I tried young Spike. I was rebuffed.” Her voice was little more than a murmur as she answered.

“How is that possible? You’re the princess of dreams!” Twilight exclaimed in disbelief. “This isn’t another Tantabus situation?” Her voice filled with concern for the horror of the potential return of such a thing and a renewed sense of worry for her friend’s wellbeing.

Luna shook her head. “You can rest assured at least that this unfortunate situation is not of my doing, nor do you need to be concerned for me regarding my own demons, for that old wound has now firmly closed.” A deep sigh escaped her dark lips, and the mare in front of Twilight seemed to age before her eyes. Though the Lunar Princess still smiled, it was a tired and strained thing. “Though the realm of dreams is my demesne, I am no longer as I once was. My connection to the moon is the font of my power, and with its passing to you, so too have I waned.” She shook her head as if to shake off the years that had belayed her. “Nonetheless, no regular nightmare would be powerful enough to deter me. As I said, this is not a natural thing. Rather, it confirms my fears that your dreams are subject to a demon of the metaphysical plain.” Twilight’s expression could only register confusion.

“A demon?”

“More of a parasite, if I am being technical. And of that, I am most certain. The symptoms you have displayed are not alien to me. I have seen them before. But not for many, many years.” Luna removed an ancient-looking book from a saddle bag. She laid the book on the table between the cups of tea and turned it around to Twilight. Illustrated in stylised colour was a figure resembling a diamond dog but as tall and thin as a post. His slouched posture gave him a crooked and angular appearance with pointed ears and a cone-like muzzle in the facial area. His attire was a spotty and dishevelled blood-red coat that nearly touched the floor. The drawing illustrated great, thick, shadowy tendrils which danced around his form. His face contorted into a grim scowl.

“Baku the Dream Eater is his name.” Luna frowned deeply. “He is an old foe from a darker time.”

“A demon that can eat dreams,” Spike echoed in parts awe and horror.

“Yes,” Luna said gravely. “It is how he gains power.” She gestured to Twilight. “Your innate anxiety may have drawn him in.” Luna stood from her seat and faced away from Twilight and Spike. Her words came out as a growl. “Much of the dreamscape’s protective seals that I had placed against those from the outside have fallen into disrepair in my absence.”

“The outside?” Twilight interjected. Luna turned her head back around.

“Beyond creation. Baku is not of the living world, but he is not dead. He is a creature of the unseeing world.”

“Woah,” Spike whispered.

“You said you fought him before,” Twilight said, looking Luna in the eyes.

Luna nodded. “Yes, many of his kind. For he has–had many siblings. Vile creatures.”

Twilight rubbed the side of her head with her hoof in consternation. She sucked in a quick breath and exhaled. “So now he’s my problem. Why me?

“You, as a creature of immense power, are an unparalleled opportunity for him,” Luna explained. “To my deep regret, I have not prepared your magical defences against his advances. He must not have believed his luck when he came upon you. It seems I cannot stop making mistakes no matter how hard I try.” Luna grimaced as anger passed over her features. “I hope you can forgive me, Twilight.”

“There is no way you could have known,” Twilight reassured the former monarch. She exited her seat and laid a reassuring hoof on Luna’s shoulder. The taller alicorn smiled somewhat forlornly through whatever anger she had been holding onto passed like a shadow before light.

“You are too kind to this old mare Twilight. You are right, of course. We must excise this beast before he can harm you more.”

“What happens if we don’t get rid of him?” Spike asked, his worry not diminishing despite Twilight’s words.

“He cannot physically harm Twilight if that worries you, young Spike.” Luna returned to the book. “But he will exhaust you and eventually consume the happy thoughts that make up the better part of yourself.” Spike yelped, and even Twilight gasped. “That is not even to mention the damage he may cause if he feasts much longer on alicorn magic. We are not regular ponies, and there could be drastic consequences that even I cannot foresee.”

“We have to stop him then,” Twilight declared.

“You will,” Luna agreed sternly. She closed the book vigorously. “He believes you, an ignorant child. His long years of imprisonment have made him irrationally greedy.” Luna hummed to herself briefly before nodding. “Yes, he will be reckless. You must confront and crush him while he is still overconfident.”

“You didn’t mention we?” Spike interjected once more. He looked worriedly at Twilight. “She’s going to do this on her own?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Luna said sadly. “Baku is entrenched. I cannot enter as I said. He has grown strong. If it tried to throw my full might against him, I would either harm Twilight or alert him, and he would then flee deeper into her mind. But more than that, it is time you took the first steps.”

“My first steps?” Twilight queried.

“To help protect the world of dreams,” Luna answered. “I had not planned to train you until you had settled into your role.” Twilight looked befuddled.

“T-to protect the world of dreams? But Celestia never dealt with the dream world when you were gone. How can I hope to do both?” Twilight felt her heckles rise at the worry of potentially additional responsibilities to her already packed schedule. It seemed an odd thought, considering the revelation of a parasitic dream monster's existence in her head. Still, even that did not daunt her like the mundane existence of additional royal work.

“You won’t,” Luna reassured her. “I have not been idle in my retirement. I plan to train a school of dreamerwalkers to guard and protect Equestria. Once, long ago, I took many students, but the tradition has fallen into disuse.” Luna studied Twilight with those shimmering eyes of hers. “But you are the Princess of Equestria, and you must be the last line of defence should all else fail.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Twilight said quietly. “I will face him.”

“Good.” Luna turned her head to the dragon. “Let us begin.” Luna’s eyes twinkled with determination and a slight grin.

Twilight sat at the edge of her bed. Her nerves frayed at the thought of sleep. She turned to Luna. “So, I just lay down and go to sleep?” Luna nodded; her horn briefly hummed with a bright blue aura. Twilight could even perceive the glint of starlight humming from within the hue. “And this will help?”

“Yes, it will guide you, but more than that, it will allow you to remain lucid, an anchor amongst the chaos of your sleeping thoughts. Baku will be unaware.”

Twilight gulped. “Piece of cake, right? Is it bad that I’m nervous?” The floor looked enticing, anything to be away from what she was sure was Luna’s judging gaze.

Luna gave a reassuring smile. “No, it means you’re not a fool. But more than that, I know you can do this. Few I believe in as much as you. Do you trust me?” Luna gently lifted Twilight’s chin to meet her eyes.

“Y-yes,” Twilight choked out.

“Then believe in me when I say you will succeed,” Luna said with a tenderness that Twilight had not expected of the former princess. The bundle of worry in her chest lessened, and a calm serenity took its place. Luna had lived hundreds upon hundreds of years, and for her to speak in such a manner meant something.

“Okay, you’re right.” Twilight took the edge of the covers and draped them over herself.

Luna gently rubbed Twilight’s cheek. “All that you see is you. And all that is you is yours alone to control. Not his. Your eyes deceive you, and he knows that.” She stepped back towards the door.

Twilight nodded and said nothing more as she snuggled into the covers; the warmth of her bed was now as comforting as a cold chill, the once welcome embrace of sleep a door into the unknown. But she did not resist it as it claimed her. She had a duty to undertake.

Luna had lingered at the door. She took in her friend's sleeping form. When she spoke, her words were but a whisper.

“Courage and valour find you, Twilight. Send this fiend back to the abyss.”

Author's Note

Next Chapter will be out tomorrow!