“Any word yet on finding Violet’s parents?” Luna asked.

“No Mistress.” The guard slumped slightly, looking defeated. “And more bad news. More foals are now missing. Simply gone. No longer in their beds. We cannot find them. It is like there is a veil of shadow that we cannot pierce.”

Luna staggered backwards, her hind legs threatening to buckle beneath her, suddenly dizzy. She felt a powerful grasp of magic seizing her, covering her every inch, holding her. The pressure felt tight. She was held aloft, her hooves no longer on the marble floor.

“Sorry.” Rookwood apologised. “I saw you falling. I tried to grab you. I didn’t mean to squeeze if I did, I’m still trying to get the hang of this.”

Luna nodded, waiting to be set down. After a few more minutes, she crossed her forelegs over her barrel and began to look a little cross. She hung in mid-air, suspended in the bonds of shadow. She turned slowly and glared at Rookwood. He was wearing smoked glass goggles, the thick glass lenses blocking out the light and correcting his vision. A broad black cloak covered his entire body, only his hooves visible.

Rookwood looked dim, even in the faint light.

“Are you going to put me down?” Luna said, now annoyed.

“No.” Rookwood replied. “I need to practice fine control, remember?”

“So we have foals going missing, I cannot patrol the dreamscape with my usual level of power, and now my guards are having trouble knowing what is going on.” Luna summed up, still suspended.

“Somewhere, parents are grieving for a missing foal, and she is with us. Keep combing through dreams, see if you can’t find the parents dreaming about their missing foal.” Rookwood mused.

“There is a problem with that sir…” The guard said, still unsure how to address Rookwood. “Many of the lunar pegasi are finding they can no longer go into dreams. Something is keeping us out. The veil is more than just peering into shadow. Something is actively keeping us out. As though something is seizing control.”

The temperature of the plunged suddenly, making everyponies’ breath visible.

“Rookwood… easy.” Luna warned.

Rookwood turned and regarded Luna, the candlelight reflecting in the smoked glass of his goggles, the flames flickering. The chill slowly began to dissipate as Rookwood tried to calm.

“Mistress, there is the matter of protocol here. Just how do we address Rookwood?” The guard inquired, somewhat impatiently. “Rookwood insists on being called Rookwood.”

“That is my name.” Rookwood said in icy tones.

“It is improper to address you as such.” The guard argued.

The guard gave a guttural grunt as he was suddenly lifted, his body now suspended in mid air. The guard weighed several hundred pounds and was wearing armor. He drifted in the air like a leaf.

“Rookwood, I will be most annoyed with you if you drop either of us.” Luna promised.

Violet poked her head into the library, looking both ways before entering through the door. She was covered in patchy spots of hair, her mane now almost an inch long in places. Her tail was starting to grow back. Her empty socket now held an eye, milky white and dead looking. She only faintly smelled of decay. She squealed when she saw the levitating guard and Luna.

And then Violet found herself held aloft. She giggled, causing her skin to move in unnatural ways. It was as though she was wearing clothing that was too large and slid around her body. Things wrinkled and bulged in unnatural ways. In life, she had been an exceptionally pretty filly. In death however…

“Momma, can I have a cookie?” Violet begged.

Luna regarded the foal for a moment, studying her, looking her over. “Only if you are good and you do not disturb the guard. Rookwood must continue his lessons tonight and we will need you to behave.”

“Why does daddy have to have lessons?” The foal asked. “Why do grown ups have to learn things? Can I stay and watch if I behave?”

Luna considered the foal’s words. “Yes Violet. You may stay. Rookwood will continue to lift you. And perhaps we shall go into the dreamscape later.”

Violet clapped her hooves together, causing the skin of her fetlock to tear. She began to dribble blood. She looked distressed, a faint wail escaping her throat. Rookwood pulled her close and kissed her, silencing her fit before it had a chance to really get started. “There there.” Rookwood soothed.

Luna watched the display and felt an ache in her heart.

Luna napped on the couch before the fire. She didn’t make it to breakfast, or even through the night. She would awaken soon enough, to lower to moon and end the night. The firelight was painful to Rookwood, even through his smoked glass goggles. The library tower was large and full of flickering shadows.

There was also a giggling undead foal eating cookies. Rookwood carefully drug each cookie into shadow and then fed them to her. Dead or not, Violet needed love just like any other foal. Careful affection had a powerful effect on her. Already, the tear in her fetlock was closing. Several off duty guards were reading in the library tower, watching them, glancing at them over the tops of open books.

Rookwood could feel the subtle threat of the sun soon to rise. He stared at a large hourglass, distracted. He felt two soggy squishy lips press into his face and break his fugue. He looked at Violet, forgetting about the hourglass.

“Where do I go when the sun rises?” Violet asked. “I know I vanish. I’ve heard you and momma talk about it.”

“I don’t know Violet.” Rookwood replied.

“Am I dead?” Violet inquired, looking at Rookwood intently. “I heard the guard talking about it. Since my ears came back I can hear so much better.”

“It is very difficult to say Violet. You aren’t exactly living.” Rookwood answered honestly.

“Neither are you.” Violet said, her tone odd.

Rookwood felt a chill grating down his spine, causing him to jerk.

“I’m not dead.” Rookwood said defiantly, trying to control the rush of anger.

“Then can we go play in the sun together?” Violet said, her good eye fixed upon Rookwood.

“You know we can’t.” Rookwood said, deflating, his anger dissolving. Being angry at Violet was impossible.

“You’re dim. Just like me. We’re caught in between.” Violet said cryptically.

Rookwood’s blood froze. He realised that Violet’s voice had been different now for a few minutes. Something was off. It wasn’t Nightmare Moon’s voice either.

“Violet?” Rookwood inquired.

Violet blinked a few times, looking strange. “What?”

“What do you mean that I am dim?” Rookwood asked.

“Dim?” Violet replied.

Rookwood stared at her for several minutes. “Never mind. Want another cookie?”

Violet nodded.

“Luna is going to murder me for giving you all of these cookies.” Rookwood said. “But it isn’t like you can be hyper past your bedtime or anything.”

Rookwood tried to eat a cookie. It tasted like ashes and grit. Pretty much everything tasted like ashes. Except for wine. Thankfully, wine still tasted normal. He tried dragging the cookie into shadow and then taking an experimental nibble. The taste improved slightly, but it still tasted like licking a fireplace.

He turned his head to look back at Violet, and saw teal eyes staring at him. He froze.

“The entire plate of cookies…” Luna began.

“I ate a few.” Rookwood blurted, hoping to stave off Luna’s annoyance. “Besides. Why can’t she have all the cookies she wants? I doubt she can get fat. There is no logical reason why Violet can’t eat cookies till she has no more room. She’s had a rough go at life.”

“Because, you dunderhead, we have to get her to behave.” Luna said, blinking away the sleep from her eyes. “She behaves because she wants a cookie.”

“Violet, why do you behave?” Rookwood asked.

“‘Cause I’m a good filly.” Violet replied, causing Rookwood to smile smugly.

Luna rolled her eyes. A lunar pegasi reading a book sniggered.

“She deserves cookies… After what she’s been through.” Rookwood said, scraping his tongue over his teeth, trying to get he ash flavour off of it.

Luna sighed, realising she was defeated.

Violet wobbled over to the couch and kissed Luna on the nose. “I’ll be good. I promise. I don’t need cookies for that.”

Luna smiled at the foal. It was getting time to lower the moon. Almost time for breakfast. And then time to go to bed. She yawned, feeling tired. She was exhausted. She felt overworked.

It was probably mommy hormones.

The sun, the terrible sun, would be setting soon. It was like an itch now. It was a dreadful feeling of anticipation that nearly drove Rookwood nuts, those last hours of the day, when he awoke, agitated, irritated, unable to sleep because his body was ready for the cursed daylight to end.

His mind held a collection of plans for this evening. Lessons. A flight. A flight would be excellent, to clear his head and get out of this stuffy place. A few lessons. A visit with Celestia. Perhaps a talk with Cadance through the crystal mirror. A bath was going to be vital. His body ached and he worried if he was going to be able to get out of the bed on his own. But once he had a bath, his body should perk back up. He was always so fatigued upon waking. Some private time with Luna might be in order.

And there were other plans. Plans that drifted in the back of his mind, other things he’d like to do, like attempting to shadow wink to Nightmare Moon’s location. Eventually, he would.

Eventually, he would attempt to enter Violet’s mind and search for clues.

Rookwood was becoming comfortably complacent with his gifts now. His body, though frailer, was being sustained. When he was in shadow form, he would bleed magic from things… wards, items, magical lights that were currently not working, whatever was convenient. It recharged his shadow form and left him able to function after returning to his physical body. He had a nagging theory that he didn’t need food any more. At least, in theory. The process was changing him though. For the better or worse? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure that it mattered. All that did matter, at least in his mind, was that he grow stronger, strong enough to put an end to this ever present threat. After that, he supposed, it didn’t matter. If he lived, so much the better, he would deal with the consequences of his actions then. If not, it didn’t matter.

Strength was the only thing that mattered.

Which was something he didn’t currently have at the moment. He struggled to even lift his hoof. He just needed a bath. Some time to soak and get the soreness from his bones. And then everything would be fine.

“Rookwood?”

“Yes?”

“You do not seem well.” Luna said, her voice full of concern.

“Same thing every day when I wake up. I just feel drained. I’ll perk up.” Rookwood said as he yawned, his muscles tensing as he stretched.

“I bet I could wake you up.” Luna teased. “At least parts of you. The parts I am interested in anyway.” She planted a kiss on Rookwood’s lips, a teasing peck.

“Aw… See, that right there is why I have issues. Usually, for a stallion, a mare references his dangly bits. You go right for my tongue.” Rookwood complained.

“Rookwood, your tongue is a national treasure. I would go to war over your tongue. Don’t feel diminished, feel proud! There are lots of dangly bits out there of all shapes and sizes, but a good tongue is a mare’s best friend.” Luna replied. “And the things you can do with your tongue...”

Rookwood smiled in the dark, Luna unable to see him.

“I never go down on you.” Luna whispered. “I feel guilty sometimes.”

“I understand why,” replied Rookwood, “I’ve seen why. What was done to shame you and humiliate you. I don’t expect you to do that for me. Just be happy and let things continue as they are.”

“See,” said Luna, “you really do know how to use your tongue to make me feel good.”

“How about later tonight I use you as a salt lick?” Rookwood teased.

He heard Luna hiss, drawing her in breath sharply, inhaling deeply.

“Ponies need salt to survive…” Rookwood breathed in the dark. “I must lick you because my life depends on it.”

Luna squirmed in the bed, her pelt causing the sheets to make crinkly noises.

Author's Notes:

So... The clues are all there. Little hints. Subtle clues.

Little suggestions here and there.

Hang tight folks... Remember to breathe. And keep the lights on.