Kestral attacked the padded arm of his partner, which was held around head level, by swerving around and delivering a round-house kick.

“TWO!”

He kicked again, though he turned over more, letting his foot get properly oriented.

“THREE!”

Again, but he came up short, and only hit with his toes.

He continued that pattern, until his instructor hit ten and told them to change stance. The kicks landed harder each time, until it was time to switch between holder and kicker positions. While the sound of timed yelling echoed throughout the small building, Kestral looked over to Charlie at the other side of the room.

He was similarly built to Kestral, with lean muscle, but not so much to be considered bulky. Unlike Kestral, Charlie had long, blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, which made him look a little feminine, even from ahead. Charlie caught Kestral's stare as he kicked, and gave a glare that would be soul-crushing to anyone that wasn't Kestral.

Great. Leader of the wolf pack if on her period again. Wonder what I did this time.

Kestral noticed everyone stopped kicking. As he turned his attention back to more important matters, he heard the head instructor let out a simple command.

“Go get your staffs!”

The few words let loose the horde of students -or, at least, all the students that were purple belt or higher- all trying to make it to the weapons first in a desperate attempt to get the 'good' ones. Kestral, like some of the other high ranking members, went to an independent location to grab the one he bought. He went to the wall with windows to the other room, and grabbed the black graphite staff leaning up against the doorway.

As he walked back, facing his partner again, he couldn't help but remember how much he used to dislike staffs. His instructor had watched him one day, observing how Kestral did. After doing so, he made the comment that a staff was perfect weapon for Kestral. Kestral asked why, and the instructor pointed out that he had good speed and force, but was particularly well balanced.

Kestral asked why it would point to a staff, when those three traits alone were useful for any weapon. The instructor pointed out that, indeed, while all three were useful, weapons emphasized the use of certain traits, pointing to a general style of a person.

Of course, most would just see he was good with a staff during practice, and probably come to the same result, but he bit his tongue that day. He had too much respect for his instructor to mouth off like that.

While thinking all that, he managed to hear the instructor just as he focused back.

“Red belts, do your staff continuous!”

The fellow red belted partner of his moved aside, and faced the same direction as Kestral. In his place came a female student wearing a half red and half black belt, which was, for obvious reasons, simply called a red-black belt. She bowed, which he returned, and they both set in a ready position.

“HI!” she yelled.

“HYA!” he returned.

She attacked, and he slid back, performing a large circular motion to block the stab to the chest. He stepped forward and attempted to strike the chin with a swinging attack, but hit only her wooden staff. He slid forward, and did the same, to a similar result.

He continued, until the set of motions was complete, then repeated them several times to ensure he was precise in his stances.

Eventually, after some time of practice, the head instructor decided it was time for a break.

“Junbi!” Everyone in the room suddenly went to a ready stance, feet directly under the shoulders, staffs thrown from shoulder to shoulder, until they held parallel to the floor, at their waist. They all faced their respective partners and looked them in the eyes.

“Cheryeot!” Everyone stuck their feet together, staff to the side, and free hand as well, ready for the break.

“Gyeongnye!” Everyone the the room bowed, making sure to keep the strict respect of eye contact.

“Alright,” the instructor started calmly, “go get some water.”

Instantly some of the younger students shot off to the fountain at the edge of the room. The older -and typically higher ranking- students either went to it at a slow pace, or not at all. Some of them just went for their personal bottle so they didn't have to wait in a line. Kestral was one of them.

As he made his way out the door, and entered the room meant for observers of the physical art, he took care to look in an apathetic manner towards Charlie, just to grind his gears. With his mortal enemy properly pissed off, Kestral grabbed the clear bottle next to his jacket on the ground, placed his staff against the doorway, and lounged back on the bleachers.

He quickly drank what he could, and prominently threw the bottle in the nearby trash can. He attempted to get up, but was stopped when he heard a female voice get his attention.

“So what kind of training is this?”

Kestral turned his head around. On the metal seating next to him laid a small, midnight blue horse, with misshapen eyes that seemed bigger than his hands. 'She' -as he assumed- was about eye level, and sported a long horn, a pair of wings, and an ethereal mane flowing by. Her blue eyes seemed to give off an essence of hope, or perhaps, a longing for something.

Huh. Was the first thought that came to his mind.

Kestral gestured to the room before them, filled with all kinds of people, united only by the desire to learn and the ownership of such a wretched, sweaty stench that could only be matched by equally determined power-lifters. “Combat. Defensive stuff mostly. Why do you ask?”

She gave an amused snort. “Well, I got that part. But which is it? Karate? Pon-jutsu?”

What the hell is Pon-jutsu? Kestral just looked at her like she lost a marble or two. “Taekwondo, actually. The sign was on the building as you came in.” He pointed it out like it was obvious.

“Well, I apologize that your dream only consists of the interior of the building. Which begs the question; Why do you know what the girls bathroom looks like? You are male, aren't you?”

Kestral just gave her more odd looks, and decided to defend the most important part of that offense. “Hey, that one time was an accident! I didn't even see anyone in there.” Wait, how do you know these things?

She just shrugged. “Because I’m in your dream, and since the interior didn't shift around upon my entry, it must be memory instead of hardened imagination.”

His eyes widened. “You can read minds! How do you do that?”

It was her turn to look at him with an 'are you stupid' look. “I don't. You're just thinking out loud right now.” She coughed, as if to try to move things along. “Are you lucid yet, child, or should I point out more obvious signs until we can talk in a more formal manner?”

“What are you talking about? I am perfectly lucid. I didn't even have a shot today.” He smiled, as if it were an achievement.

“Oh really?” The pony asked. “Look at the water supply, and tell me what you see.”

Kestral turned his head, and spotted the long line behind the fountain, some talking either muffled or nonsensical words. Others just stood patiently, awaiting their turn. “I don't get it. I just see a line.”

“Look at the one in front. Notice anything odd?” She pointed out, luring him into his own realization.

Kestral looked at the mentioned spot, and tried to pry details out of it. He saw that the same person was at the front of the line the whole time, not daring to more, even for a breath of air. Even more surprising, it had surely been at least several minutes since the instructor called for a quick break, and he hadn't called to line up again. A look around showed Kestral that, while some seemed to be moving and full of life, others were still, motionless, almost as if they-

“Can't move on their own?” The pony cut in.

He looked at her with a generously furrowed brown. “How are you doing that?”

She waved her hoof. “Dreams are my domain, after all. The mind may sometimes have a difficult time simulating everything, so it cuts out and just tells you it's still happening. That's why you don't realize discontinuities until they are brought to attention directly.”

Kestral looked long and hard at her, thinking about everything that led up to it.

Then everything snapped. The forest, the wood-wolves, the telepathic wizard, the offer, the changelings, the thefts, everything. He remembered all the events leading up to that dream, and in just an instant, he became lucid.

“Holy shit, I am dreaming, aren't I?” He asked. Although, he wondered, at this rate, I should probably get a psyche exam. Who knows, I might be crazy, suddenly going down a road where a talking pegacorn is more believable than seeing humans again.

“I do not understand what is blessed about excrement, but if you believe so I will not hold it against you.”

He just gave her an amused look, and laughed lightly. “Heh, funny.”

The two looked at each other, not entirely sure where to begin. That was the case for Kestral, at least, because to him, she looked like she was trying to find all the questions she wanted to asked, which was not helped by the inquisitive smile she gave. He worked up the nerve to hold out his hand in a friendly gesture.

“Kestral Petrovski, at your service.”

She looked at his hand, and he almost took it away, but she stuck out her hoof, and grasped his hand with it, giving a firm shake. “Princess Luna, at yours.”

He lounged back and looked at her in the eye, but in a way that would make it seem they were old friends. “So, dreams are your domain? You a dream-walker, or something?”

Luna cocked her head. “What is a 'dream-walker'? Is is simply one who uses magic to enter others dreams?”

He waved the thought away with his hand. “Uh, yes, in a way. I just thought those things would be real here.”

“Well, then yes. I am she who protects ponies from nightmares. I live in our capital city, Canterlot, along with my sister, Celestia.”

“Heh. And what does she govern? Day dreams? I wonder how many perverts she ends up peeking on.”

It was Luna's turn to give a laugh. “Ha! No, she raises the sun, just as I raise the moon.”

Kestral just gave her another confused look, which, if he were awake, would have left permanent wrinkles upon his head by then. She looked at him, worriedly, and asked. “Have you never heard of us?”

“No.” he said bluntly. “where I come from, no one does that job.”

“Really?!” She got a bit closer, and egged him on. “Tell me more.”

Kestral thought it odd that she would gain sudden interest in such a thing, but then again, his concept of the situation was probably about the same. Two people, asking questions about a society they know nothing about. Sounds too close to politics to me. He cleared his throat. “ Tell you what, I’ll tell you some, if you tell me some as well. Maybe a little Q and A?”

“Oh! Yes, I shall 'question and answer' with you. May I go first?” The question felt foreign to roll off her tongue, but she felt it was necessary, since she was in his dream, after all.

Kestral nodded. “Ladies first.”

“Okay!” She sat there, trying to decided between the hundreds of questions buzzing through her mind. It was, after all, the first time she had ever met a human. In a dream, maybe, but a human nonetheless! “So, if nopo-...no one raises the moon nor sun, how are they raised?”

“Well,” he started, “the simplest answer I could give would be that they raise and lower themselves, in a sense.” She tilted her head, obviously wanting more. “Heliocentrism is what we call it, I think. The earth revolves around the sun, the moon revolves around the earth, the earth turns on an axis, giving the illusion that the stars, moon, and sun all move on their own. There's lots more to it, but I only remember what I was taught in middle school.” She just stared at him with an unmoving face. “You look stunned.” he teased.

“I am!” she admitted. “So very few in our world understand such knowledge, and yet, those in your world teach it on a regular basis?”

Kestral smiled. “One question at a time. It's my turn.” He waited. “Okay. Why are ponies racist?” He decided that he wanted to go directly for the questions he wanted answered. He didn't know if he would get another opportunity to speak freely to a pony without fear towards him.

Luna just gave a blank stare. “I'm...sorry? What?”

“Against humans, I mean.” He cleared his throat, which did nothing in the dream, but still felt good anyway. “I walked into a town, and saw a mare consoling her broken window. I walked up to her and asked if she needed help. She asked who I was, I told her I was a human, and she promptly booked it to the nearest guards.”

Luna's face twitched, like she was about to become sad, but she kept her composure. “Oh, dear. I apologize.” She sighed. “You are the second known human to enter these lands, and the first had left a deep scar in history, whether it was intentional or not. After a... misinterpreted meeting with Celestia and malicious undertaking by a guard, humans were forever written down as monsters.” She looked at him somberly. “For your species' sake, I hope you do not leave another one, lest you damn your race to only more unintentional and intangible villainy.”

Her answer only raised a dozen different questions for Kestral. Mostly, he felt the need to know about the 'first' human. “Your turn.” He said slowly.

“Very well.” Her lighter, almost cheery demeanor returned. “What is human culture like?”

He just stared. How does one explain all of human culture in a paragraph? How does one sum up the ideas of an entire species in a way that didn't leave out anything important, and manage to stay within the confines of a normal conversation? Easy; one does not.

“Diverse.” He stated, leaving no hint of further explanation.

“Diverse...? That is it?” She asked, as if expecting some lengthy monologue on the superior ways of humans, and how they came to be the top dog of their world.

“Honestly, yes.” He casually looked to the side, still lounging back on the bleachers. “There are far too many cultures to be explained by me alone. Mostly because I don't actually know all of them, but partially because I couldn't really explain some of them either. Some of oh-so-fucking-many we have can only be experienced, not taught.”

He looked back to Luna, trying to gauge her response. To his surprise her reaction was not to the culture discussion at all.

“You speak rather freely, for being in the presence of royalty.” She gave a smirk.

Kestral shrugged. “Honestly? I'm just rolling with what comes at me at the moment. I barely have a grasp on what's possible and what's not anymore. As long as I keep up a smart-ass attitude, and think one step ahead of the next guy, then I think I’ll make it.”

She gave a sigh. “I hope my little ponies are not giving you too much trouble, though.”

Kestral realized that she didn't know of the events happening in Ponyville at that time. That, or she understood completely and was backing him up without his knowledge, but he thought the former was much more likely. After all, if she did, she probably would have just mentioned it anyway.

“It's... fine.” He stated. “But, my turn!” She awaited to answer his question. “What are you doing here? In my dream?”

She shot up an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

He gestured towards all the intangible actors surrounding them, along with the scenery. “You said you protect ponies from nightmares and stuff, right? Well, A, I’m not a pony, B, I'm not having a nightmare, and C, I’m pretty sure psychological invasion should be covered somewhere in the Geneva convention, even if used for 'good'.”

“Uh...” she began, “I do not know of a 'Geneva Convention'. You are not a pony, true, but I protect many races from nightmares, which, I may point out, you were about to have, had I not intervened.”

He looked at her in a pensive manner. “Really?”

“Really!” She asserted. “How else would I have found you? I don't just hop into every dream I please. That would be an abuse of power.”

“Uhuh.” He chipped in. “What about me, though? You seem to be taking your sweet time here, when there may be others still in peril of their mid-morning naps.”

“Okay!” Her eyes sharpened a bit, taking a slightly more defensive look. “I admit, the prospect of meeting a human was rather intriguing. But mind you, I’m here to help you with nightmares, and talking to you is a good, short term medium for that. And there are not nearly as many nightmares during the day, simply because not nearly as many ponies sleep during the day -which you are, mind you- and leaves me with more time to deal with each. Not to mention that time actually spent in a dream is nigh negligible for me.”

He raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. “Okay! Okay. I get it, you're justified.” He crossed his arms again. “I'm just saying you seem to like talking to me, is all.” He gave her a coy look. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had an ulterior motive.” He teased with his voice.

She just gave him a master's poker face. “The ulterior motive to learn about real humans, rather than their fictional form, is the only one.”

Kestral was a bit frustrated that his mild attempt to elicit even the slightest blush went under. Oh well. “I guess that's reasonable, though-”

His eyes began to burn, as he kept them open. It began to get lighter and lighter, with sun rays flooding the dream. “What the hell?” He tried blocking it with his hand, to no avail.

“What? What are you experiencing?”

“Fucking bright lights, everywhere!” He closed his eyes, and finally the light went away, but let him see nothing of the dream. “Closing my eyes helped though.”

“Oh. You're waking up, it just seems your senses are coming back before you are.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, as the world's gravity began to shift.

“Your nerves are functioning before your mind is brought back to control them. It's the opposite of sleep paralysis. Instead of your body lagging behind the mind, it's the other way around.” She got closer, though Kestral couldn't see it. “If you're about to have another nightmare, I would like to speak with you more.”

He couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement, but his senses were going haywire, so he just called out. “Sure! Whatever floats your boat!” Kestral heard some kind of response, but his hearing had already moved on to the waking world.

All he knew was that he was going to wake up with a lot more questions than he went to sleep with.