I know you’re there.
Did you think that you would escape my notice? That your presence would not immediately alert me?
I am the Princess of the Night. The Governor of Dreams. I am more familiar with what lies within the realm of the mind than any pony who has ever lived. More so than our scholars. More so than my Sister, powerful though she thinks she is. I surpass her in this, at least. I see the dreamscapes of thousands of my subjects every day. I know what should be within a pony’s mind. I also know what should not.
So yes. I noticed when you first appeared.
I could eliminate you where you stand. Did you know that, little interloper? You do now. I could do it with a thought. It would be swift. Painless, for myself. How does that make you feel?
Can you experience pain?
Can you feel fear?
What are you, interloper? A body foreign to my own mind, of this I have no doubt. But you are hazy in my sight. Hiding, perhaps? Or maybe just too small to be perceived, too insubstantial to have form. No other pony would have been able to notice your presence.
Not even my sister.
And so the question becomes, little dream, what is to be done with you? The safest thing to do would be to destroy you. You are an unknown. Who knows what kind of danger you could present? It would be the cautious way out. The easy way out.
But safety and caution are the domain of the day. The night is not a place of safety. We are obscure, thrilling, alluring in our darkness. The night scares some, yes, but it captivates equally as many. What will they find? Danger? Excitement? Romance? Our strength lies in our mystery.
You are a mystery, interloper, and that entices me. It would be a betrayal of my own soul to destroy something out of fear of the unknown.
And yet I cannot help but ponder your intentions. What is it that you want from me? I feel your gaze, skittering across the back of my mind. I sense your movements as you lightly skim my thoughts, peer through my memories.
Do you like what you see?
Do I intrigue you as much as you intrigue me?
Am I foreign to you? Mystical? Do you see me as just another pony, one among many? Or do you see a ruler, a diarch-god who walks amongst her people, alike in body and tongue, but never truly one with them?
Not the way that Celestia manages to be.
…
We weren't always like this.
We used to be ancient. Divine in face, terrible in power. When we met with the first of them, they trembled. Bowed their heads and cowered. We changed to be accepted.
You have to give up so much, to change. It was worth it- of course it was worth it. But sometimes I remember…
I was the Moon.
I feel you react to my words, interloper. You can hear me then, understand my speech. I admit, I feared that I was simply entertaining the illusion of conversation, talking to a brick wall, as it were. I am pleased to be proven otherwise. What a delightful little curiosity you are.
Do you want to reply? Or are you content to simply observe?
Are you capable of replying?
Remain silent if you so wish. It matters not to me. Silence is a virtue they say, though you wouldn’t know it in our society. Ponies seem to revel in incessant chatter, as noisy as it is pointless.
Even I adopted a booming tone when talking to my subjects, at the advice of one of our many royal aides, though that was many years ago. It was for the purpose of imposing my regality, he told me. To portray myself as more powerful to the masses.
They no longer see me as powerful. That was always the point, that was our constant goal throughout the many years we changed for them.
So when this aide told me that I needed to seem more so, it puzzled me. It seemed to work against everything we had worked to build. Although I took it gladly, I could not fathom why I had been presented with this advice.
Until I realised that they hadn’t suggested it because they thought I should appear more powerful than I currently seemed.
It was that in the shadow of the Sun, I could barely even be distinguished from a regular pony.
I feel your excitement as I mention power. Celestia would no doubt be guarded against such a reaction. She is ceaselessly wary against those who aspire to greatness, and loves to deal instead with ponies who have no ambition. I’m different. It is a natural instinct within all living creatures to desire power. Those who claim they do not are either deceptive or foolish.
Do you seek power, interloper?
Perhaps we could aid one another.
As I stated before, as long as you pose no threat to me, I won’t destroy you. In fact, I’m willing to nurture you. Feed you trickles of strength, when I can afford it.
In exchange, you must allow yourself to be nurtured. To be examined - solely by myself, of course, but for my own interests and curiosity.
To listen when I think.
There are so few who listen to me now.
You are eager. I sense it, strongly. But there is just one thing I want of you first. I am offering a lot, once again. I need to know who- what I am working with. I would ask that you stop hiding in the shade of my thoughts. Appear before me, so that I might see who it is that has taken up residence within my own mind.
You hesitate.
I believe that you would not hide without a reason. But we cannot help each other without this. I cannot help you unless you reveal yourself.
Ah.
So this is what you look like.
Familiar, yes, but at the same time… different.
I've heard that I should consider this the sincerest form of flattery. Maybe I am flattered. I have yet to decide. But in my eyes, this only makes you more interesting.
So yes. I will help you. And you will help me.
Who knows, maybe someday we could even become greater together than we are apart.
I look forward to seeing what we can do for each other.
My dear little Nightmare.
