The Littlest Revenge Poisons the Soul

by Weavers of Dreams

Chapters

• -1- The Moon and the Storm
• -2- A Glass Floor
• -3- The Rivalery
• -4- Pondering the Future
• -5- So Little to Do, So Much Time
• -6- Five Years Later
• -7- Rising Sun, Nashing Teeth
• -8- From Where I Stand

-1- The Moon and the Storm

The void of dreams was a mysterious place, there was ground, but no substance, and the only light was from the tongue of fires from the dreamers, giving off emotion vapors like smoke, curling up into what would be the void's sky. Princess Luna was one of two alicorns able to reach into the void, but Celestia never ventured in after her long days at court, leaving her sister to watch over the well being of their subjects at night. They didn't go just to stop nightmares and night terrors, but legitimate problems that ponies were suffering from, and to deliver messages of hope or warning to friends and enemies. Simple nightmares and terrors were normal things for ponies to go through, they didn't somepony to rush in and save them every time something bad happened.

Luna had learned to tell what was going on in a dream by the fire they made. The smallest were the dreams of young children and the unborn, the raging flames were the fires of youth and the ambitious, while the more tempered and controlled flames were those of the old and content. The color also told whether it was a happy or bad dream, black was for a nightmare, and red were horrors, and the thicker the vapors coming off of them, the longer they had been going on, or were more situated to the pony's current circumstances. When the vapors were seen as too thick on these, Luna would interact and help the pony get over their crisis.

But, when things were slow and seemed to be fine, Luna would join with a happy yellow dream, usually a child's, and play so that the children would not grow to fear her. This was one of those times. Luna slipped out the flame of one of the Cake twins' dreams, chuckling to herself as she thought back on it.

There was a giant. toothless alligator running about, on a landscape covered in frosting, while a flour-covered Pinkie Pie ran around on its back screaming while an open bag of flower continued to pour out on her. It was an amusing sight to see, and Luna sat down with the infant to watch for what seemed an hour. It never seemed to take much to amuse children.

She stretched her wings and then folded them again, looking around at the flames, they all seemed decent and, just a few nightmares here and there, with one terror, but the vapors were thin. They needn't be bothered with. It seemed her night was at an end, and she began to concentrate her magic to return to her bed. But before she activated it, a roar shattered the silence of the void like a hammer against tempered glass.

Luna dropped into a defensive stance and activated her magic while spreading her wings wide. Never before had she heard a noise like that in the void, and she was prepared to guard her subjects dreams against a possible threat. All was silent again, and she could see nothing through the tongues of fire. A fluttering noise made her look up.

For an instant she thought she had something rise up into the cloud of vapors and vanish. She fired a mild electric shock up after it, and a flash told her she hit her target. Or targets.

Three moth-like creatures fell before her, each one white with six rainbow-colored wings, and just bigger than a large stallion's hoof. She had been coming to and from the void for a few years, and had never encountered any living creature before. Had they always been in the vapors above her? Luna had to find out. She aimed her horn and pulled the vapors apart, exposing thousands of the creatures, which quickly began to flap off towards where the vapors had fled. But before many of them could take cover, another roar tore through the void and Luna watched in fascination as many of the insects froze and fell, all but four of them regaining themselves and flying away before they hit the ground.

Luna kept herself prepared as she approached the fallen creatures, then a noise behind made her whirl around to see that only half of one of the other three creatures was left, the insides showing that they were not insects, but rather a strange mammal of the void. Another noise behind her made her turn to see that the other four were gone. She whirled around, expecting the predator to come for the last half, but not expecting it to sit there.

The predator had its back to Luna as it contentedly chewed on the last bit of creature. From behind all Luna could see was a hood of tattered gray cloth attached to more gray clothing that kept its body hidden. But a silver tail sticking out behind it was a dead giveaway. It was a pony, and it was eating meat. Now ponies sometimes ate fish on special occasions, but never raw or in great amounts, but by the stains on the pony's clothes, that seemed to be all it ate. But it was still a pony, and it had somehow gotten into the void, probably by some accident, and there didn't appear any vegetation around. Meat must have been the only sustenance it had found. Luna just had to help it. She reached out a hoof and placed it on its back and started to rub slowly.

the pony let out yelp and whipped around, snapped his jaws just inches from Luna's hoof. Luna stepped back in shock when she saw the predatory teeth the pony sported. It was a stallion, with violet eyes, golden brown fur, and a silver mane. Lastly, there was a tarnished bronze image on his chest with the picture of a whale trapped on a spider's web. the rest of him was covered in the gray cloth.

"We are sorry to have... surprised you, flesh-eating... pony," Luna managed say.

The stallion's angry face suddenly became one of surprise. He folded his ears back and stepped up close to Luna, leaning in and sniffing her. "You're real, aren't you? Stupid question. Even if you were a hallucination you would call yourself real. But you touched me, no hallucination could do that. Are you lost? As much as I would like the company, especially that of a female, I can show you a way out."

The quick way the stallion spoke showed he was excited, while the kind gesture showed he was friendly and willing to help. But for all that, Luna could only manage to say, "You ate raw meat, and have sharp teeth."

The stallion shrunk down a bit, pawing the ground with a hoof. "I was hungry and didn't think you were real. I've seen you around, but every time I go to a hallucination bad things happen and I wind up scaring the dreamers. Plus I really love meat, and its the only thing to eat around here."

Luna calmed down a bit a looked at the poor stallion on the ground with pity in her eyes. She set a hoof on the back of his head to comfort him, pushing away the thought of such a ravenous diet. "Forgive us, we forgot ourselves and wish to..."

Luna pulled away her hoof as the stallion behind waving his front hooves around and groaning. He retreated a few paces and looked at her, upset for some reason.

"I don't like being touched," he said flatly. With a sigh he turned and walked over to a nightmare. "I can jump into dreams and play because the feelings aren't physical, I can interact with people and not be singled out. Because everything makes sense in a dream."

"Your afraid of being noticed and touched?" Luna asked, taking a few cautious steps closer to the stallion. The pity still emanating from her eyes. "Do you suffer from the paces?"

"I have the paces, yes," the stallion said as held up a hoof, it began to glow white, he touched it to the nightmare and the flame turned yellow, "but should I be suffering because I can't see the world everyone else can?"

"Of course not, that was not our intent." Luna hid her amazement at the stallion's casual display of immense magic, immediately transforming a dream state. "If you don't mind us asking, what are you?"

The stallion continued to look at the happy dream, smiling as he seemed to know what was going on inside. "I'm a void pony, I live here, I was born here."

"So there are others?" Luna asked in shock, looking around, she had thought maybe he was a mutation of some sort, somehow lost in the void. Now he was telling her there was an entire race of ponies in the void.

"There were," the stallion sighed, looking at the ground. "Many of us. But now I am the last. I am Weaver Impossible."

"We are so sorry," Luna said, concern heavy in her voice. "Weaver Impossible, how long have you been alone with nothing but dreams and hallucinations."

The stallion met her eyes, tears starting to form, but he moved back when Luna tried to touch him again. "For forty-four hundred and eighteen years I have reigned Weaver Impossible, the King of Dreams."

-2- A Glass Floor

"King?" Luna asked in surprise, breaking the long silence that had been hanging low over the darkening void. Weaver's silver glow became brighter the darker the void became, soon becoming the only beacon in the dark. The darkness was actually scary, as Weaver was the only light that could be seen.

"My father was King Weaver Parallel, when he died I took his throne." Tears could be seen in Weaver's eyes as he sunk lower onto the ground, laying his head on his hooves. "For eight hundred years I dreamed of taking that throne... now I just dream of remembering their faces. Perhaps a mirror to remember what I look like, then I could at least piece their faces back together in my head."

"We can give thee a mirror," Luna suggested, readying her magic.

"Go home," the stallion said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"But thou art lonely and sad," Luna began, "it would be wrong of us to..."

"You wont like it after dark."

"Why," Luna all but demanded, growing tired of what little information he gave.

"There are beasts scared of fire that I make my clothes out of," the stallion said in a low voice, standing up and producing six swords out of nowhere and having them hover around him. In the distance there was a hissing noise, and Weaver began breathe raggedly.

"How many are there?" Luna asked, getting into a ready stance.

"I said go home," Weaver growled, thrusting two of the swords at Luna. "I will not have a mare coming to my aid. Now depart my kingdom or I'll force you out."

Luna became indignant, using her magic to knock the sword away. "How dare you threaten us. We have done nothing but be pleasant and understanding to thou. How dare thee look down on me for..."

Without warning, Luna found herself sliding backwards from Weaver's voice, making the Royal Canterlot Voice seen like a light breeze.

"I AM KING OF DREAMS, RULER OF THE VOID AND ALL MAGIC AND POWER WITHIN. I AM NO POLITICIAN OR SOOTHSAYER. I DON'T NEED YOUR UNDERSTANDING, I AM THE SUPREME POWER OF THE NOTHING. NOW LEAVE OR ELSE..."

Hooves feeling like somepony had held a torch under them, Luna waited for the rest of the screaming, but instead saw Weaver burst into a new fit of tears and drop all the swords. He backed away from a little turned, running away to the hissing monsters.

"I'm so sorry," he heaved as he ran away, "just go, I can only cause pain."

Luna lit up her horn to light and was about to go after him. But what she illuminated caused her to change her mind. Beasts in wolves standing on six thin legs like stilts, towering above her, their skins were made of patched cloth, like rejected foal toys. They were all around her.

One dipped its head close to her face and opened its mouth, displaying teeth made of rusted metal and chipped bone. A blast of magic against its face, only resulted in a yelp and a few burns. For all her power, Princess Luna found herself feeling helpless compared to this mob of monsters. With a flap of her wings, she rose above the mob and into the vapors, keeping an eye on them as they roared and leapt for her.

When she was far enough out of their reach, she looked about for Weaver, praying for a glimpse of his light. He had been protecting her, albeit rather forcefully and without telling her why. But he also had the paces, which never went away, especially after forty-four hundred years alone, slipping into a nightmare once everypony woke up. She had to help him. This was no life for anypony.

* * *

Celestia knew something was wrong. Her sister was never in the void this long, something must have happened. She rushed to Luna's room and threw open the door to see Luna curled up on the bed, still in her magical sleep. Celestia approached the bed and laid a hoof on her sister's head, closing her eyes and concentrating. Turmoil and fear emanated strongly from Luna's mind, there truly was trouble in the void.

Rather than just dive right in into the void to help her sister, Celestia laid down beside her and concentrated, getting ready to speak with Luna via a telepathic link they had set up a few years back so they could inform each other of trouble. Although Celestia abused it on more than one occasion to tease her sister or ask her where the cooks hid a cake. This would be the first real use of the link, and a of its use in the void.

Luna? What's happening? Why haven't you awoken?

It took a moment for Luna's reply to come back. It sounded worried with hints of fear.

Celestia? Thank you. We were growing worried? We are fine, have found a secret of the void. It is full of monsters.

Then leave, Luna.

We shall do no such thing, sister. There is a stallion in here in need of our assistance, we shall not leave him to the mercy of these beasts.

Celestia was shocked by this news, no mere unicorn could have such powerful magic as to physically walk the void. It had to be an alicorn.

You have found a male alicorn? There hasn't been one since...

He is no alicorn sister, nor an unicorn. He is something new, or old. Have you ever heard of a void pony.

Celestia thought this over. She had heard countless legends in her time, but nothing called a void... Wait, there were legends of creatures that came into dreams, very ancient stories that were once meant for children, and again were forgotten and rare even in mythologies. The name took a moment to come to mind.

You are speaking of a nosferatu, Luna. From ancient stories I can't even remember. Is there anything I can do to held?

Bring fire and lots of it, we am weary from my travel and dare not risk such powerful spells right now.

Very well, Luna. I shall join you in but a moment.

* * *

Weaver hacked the spindly legs out from under the monsters with four new swords he had created, keeping them close to his body and charging at the beasts in rage. No screams or curses escaped his lips, and although he was enraged, there was regret in his eyes. A sadness that had clung to his soul for ever so long. But he seemed determined not to die, after so many years most would have given up, but something drove him on, and made him hold his tongue against the monstrosities.

Thousands of years made this all too easy, but he was too old to become over confident. The beasts learned slow, but they were just as just as he was lonely. He just had to keep this up for about sixteen hours, then relax when the dreamers dreamt again. He hoped Luna had left, he hadn't meant to get so angry, and it was a shame that his first physical contact in forever had ended so horribly. He would have been more than happy to talk the alicorn, just long as there weren't a lot of questions, and just as long as it was around dreamtime. That would be good. If she ever forgave him for his horrible treatment of her.

Guess I'll find out in sixteen hours. He spun around and sliced another beast right up the center while leaping into the air to avoid one that dove at him, slicing off its head as he came back down. The beasts didn't bleed, they just tore apart, like stuffed animals, except without stuffing, just inky blackness. In a few hours they would mend themselves and his work would be a fruitless effort.

Suddenly the sky lit up in blue flames, and the beasts shrieked and ran off in fright. The fallen ones blew away and Weaver's cloth struggled to release him, still alive. Keeping the swords ready, he turned to see and another wave of blue flames erupt from the distance. With a sigh, he dissolved the swords and began running towards the source of the fire. It was apparently hopeless that that blue mare would give up on him.

* * *

Her mane wreathed in golden flames, and red lashes extending from her wings, a scowling Celestia watched as the beasts ran off.

"What are these things, Luna? How could you not have noticed them before?"

"The pony said they were afraid of fire, and the dreams warded them off all the times we was here. We can only hope is all right, we made him angry and he attacked us..."

"He did what?" Celestia demanded, her scowl deepening.

"Calm thyself, sister," Luna spoke quickly as she settled back onto the ground. "He has been trapped here alone for longer than we've been alive. Were we not angry after you imprisoned us on the moon for a thousand years?"

"Fine," Celestia said half-heartedly. She did still remember, Nightmare Moon and the wrath she exuded before and after her banishment. "But I shall remain weary of him. He could easily be threat. If I remember correctly, not all nosferatu were peaceful, and came into nightmares."

"We watched him transform a nightmare into a happy dream with a touch of his hoof, and produce swords from thin air and tell us to leave so that we would not get hurt," Luna defended. She was starting to realize that Weaver might not be as acceptable to others as she had hoped. If others were to suddenly find a carnivorous, powerful pony in their midst, there might very well be panic. "Sister, he cannot stay here. But he is... very different, he may not be suitable for society, but we must find a way to get him out of here."

Golden flames suddenly erupted around them in a circle, blasting high into the vapors and frying the creatures, causing them to shriek in agony. The fell the ground like fireballs, some even falling apart like ashes as soon as they hit the ground. The flames roared loudly, but there was no heat radiating from them, in fact it seemed to be getting colder in the middle. Both sisters pressed their sides together, frightened by the sudden force.

Then Weaver strode straight through the flames, his clothes jerking in all direction and letting out muffled cries of fear and the flames pressed right up against it. Though he kept a calm outward appearance, Weaver's voice hinted anger and disdain; mostly directed at Celestia.

"For eight hundred years I was Prince Impossible, Commander of two hundred thousand warriors, proved myself worthy of inheriting the throne over my two hundred older brothers by shear power alone. But you dare to think I can't protect myself against mere monster's? How dare you stand in the presence of the King of Dreams with such contempt for his power."

-3- The Rivalery

Weaver's violet eyes were glowing, and the flames were becoming brighter by the second. Luna covered her eyes, while her sister could easily look into the sun without harm. But Celestia almost found herself wishing she couldn't.

Though he was much shorter than either alicorn, he seemed to be looking down on them, completely unafraid and unimpressed by their size and beauty. He remained still for a long time, the flames raging ever brighter. Luna felt confused, unable to astertain why he was suddenly angry. Celestia, on the other hoof, was becoming enraged at this showy display of magic and lack of manners towards her station from such a depraved flesh eater.

"I asked you a question," Weaver hissed, opening his mouth wide to display his cutlery. "I think I had a brother all that time ago who kept silent when anypony asked him a question. Well, I beat that out of him, and he quickly became my greatest informant. Do I have to do that to you, you anorexic... I've drawn a blank."

Despite the silly ending to that speech, Celestia was boiling over in anger and shouted out in her Royal Canterlot voice. "HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME, PRINCESS CELESTIA, DIARCH OF EQUESTRIA, IN SUCH A MANNER. YOUR POWER IS NO MATCH FOR ME, I AM TASKED WITH RAISING THE SUN EVERY MORNING, SOME EVEN CALL ME A GODDESS. I WILL TEACH YOU SOME RESPECT."

With that, Celestia dissipated the fire with a shock wave and launched a concentrated beam at Weaver, engulfing him in a ball of multicolored energy. She raised her head with a hard expression as she watched the energy pulsate and shift around Weaver. But the results did not go as suspected.

The energy became wobbling and looked like water than it dimpled in the center and became a vortex being sucked in through Weaver's mouth. Smoke billowed forth from his throat and heavy flames seeped around his eyes, falling to the ground and bursting like fireworks. Both sisters could feel the terrible heat from those flames, and stepped back a bit to get away. A circle of fire lit up around them all, tamer this time and not so bright, illuminating fleeing beasts that had tried to sneak up after Celestia destroyed the pillar of flames.

"My apologies," Weaver said, the smoke falling to the ground and thinning out like a sheet. "But let's make one thing clear, you are no god, and you never will be. You are just as mortal as I am. Very little can change that."

Celestia hid her concern and fear. Swallowing a little, she took a step closer to address Weaver in as calm a tone she could muster. "I accept your apology, let me...

Luna cut her off. "Let us thank thee for helping many of our subjects while they dream. We appreciate your aid as there is only so much just one pony can do in a night."

Weaver offered Luna a courteous smile, then turned his wrath back upon Celestia. "You are welcome back any time, though I prefer a simple 'hello' compared to a wave of fire to announce your appearance. Had you come more with a more peaceful tone rather than a display of power in a foreign land, I wouldn't have had to assert my dominance."

"Dominance? Over what? What is there in this void you need dominance for?" Celestia snorted.

"Hope," Weaver said with narrowed eyes. He was no longer excreted smoke and fire and was back to his normal self, though it looked like his clothes were trying to eat him.

"What hope?" Celestia demanded, looking around at the nothingness. "It's just mindless monsters, dreams, and just you. Surely you could be doing something more useful with your abilities."

With a roar, Weaver tore off his clothes, keeping a hoof on it to keep it from crawling away while the two sisters had chance to look at his unclothed figure. There were giant scars, the kind that would make more delicate mares gag in horror, and large bare patches, including where his cutie marks were supposed to be, where the skin was the same texture as the beasts. There a sour expression on Weaver's face as he looked down at the ground and sighed wearily.

"You get it now, don't you?"

Luna nodded as she tried to take a step closer to him, but Celestia stopped her by extending a wing in front of her. "Those beasts, they..."

"They are my subjects," Weaver sighed as he started to put his clothes back on. It looked like they were swallowing him. "There is no immunity or escaping it. If your not taken over the course of a few days, then a year, ten years, ten thousand years, it doesn't matter, you will be taken eventually. But if you die, it takes you immediately. I am their last hope to reversing it."

Celestia let her mouth hang open as she gazed at the king with a new realization, but keeping in mind his dangerous instability. She didn't like or trust him, maybe never would, but there was a reason to pity him. "So you stay for your people?"

"I stay so I cannot spread it elsewhere," Weaver cried out loudly. "For ever so long, I've wanted to look for a cure out side in one of other places, but I've remained so that in case there is no cure, at least I will have sacrificed myself trying magic cures, a terrible substitute for medicine, to heal my poor ponies."

Luna and Celestia watched as he stroked his clothes with a fondness, as if for a good friend or close relation. Both sisters felt that this a was a question to address at a much later date. They had to leave, there was a disease, and they needed to make sure they weren't infected, and if they were they would need all the pathologists in equestrian to find a cure, not just for them, but for Weaver and his subjects.

"Go," Weaver said as if he had read their minds. "I doubt it infects you, since Lady Blue's been coming here for a long time, but you have duties to tend to. If this is so, then please help my ponies, I give anything, if I ever had much, if you can do that."

"That shall not be necessary," Celestia said with an edge to her voice. "You are in need, and we would not turn away anypony, or beast, who was in need. You shall have our cooperation, as long as you stay here for now."

Weaver knew she was referring to him as the beast and managed a smile. "There is no need to hide insults in your sentences, Lady White, my mother was much more brazen and hateful with her tongue, and yet I did my best to keep her alive and happy. Just don't intrude upon me so brashly, and I won't have to assert myself."

"I will try to remember that," Celestia said with a huff as he slipped from the void and back to the palace.

"You should not anger our sister," Luna stated with a knowing tone. "There are very few ponies she could wish the slightest ill will, and we are afraid to say you're probably at the top of her list now. Was it entirely necessary to embarrass her?"

"I may have forgotten what I look like," Weaver started as he looked up at Luna, "what everyone else looked like... but I have never forgotten to pride of the void ponies, the pride of my kingdom. When one displays power, I must display equal or greater power or be shamed. If I had soldiers, then by numbers and magic I could display our power. But it was only I, and I had to show I was not afraid or inferior in anyway."

Weaver walked past Luna and stared at the shapes moving in and out of the edge of light. "I can sense great magic from you both, different magic, I do underestimate it. I hope to see you again, Lady Blue. If your sister is serious about helping my ponies, I will do my best to control myself. I do not wish any animosity between our kingdoms, I hope you believe me."

"We do," Luna said with her head raised high, gently setting a hoof on his back. She felt him tense up under the touch, but remain still none the less. It was also disturbing to note the clothes were trying to eat her now. "Our sister is serious about her desire to help, whatever her thoughts of you may be. You wounded her pride, she only wanted to help, and you could have handled it in a different manner, one less threatening. If you can make it up to her somehow, she has it within her hear to forgive you and make her own amends."

Weaver slid out from underneath Luna's hoof and curled up on the ground. "I will sleep on it. Go and see that you are not infected, Lady Bl..."

"Our name is Luna, Princess Luna." Though Luna found herself smiling at the name Weaver gave her.

"I've always had trouble with names," Weaver said as he closed his eyes. "I think I once called a friend General Chipped Hoof."

"We would appreciate your attempts," Luna said.

"No promises."

"Farewell," said Luna with one last glance at Weaver before she disappeared.

As soon as he felt her leave, Weaver wretched up a short burst of Celestia's magic and panted in disgust. "Lady White, why must you taste so bitter? Is you magic fueled by emotions? Once again, I talk to myself and am convinced I'm insane. I must be, I've lived too long to considered anything else."

Soon he drifted off to sleep, a gray flame appeared above his body, large and snapping as he dreamed of things he wished to remember.

* * *

Back at Canterlot, the two sisters had confined themselves to Luna's room and ordered doctors to come immediately and check them over. They gave no reason as to why and ordered that they be examined for any foreign matter. All the guards and physicians were sworn to secrecy. The suspense was ominous.

-4- Pondering the Future

Princesses Luna and Celestia waited in Luna's room after the medical staff left to test their results. Everyone was sworn to silence and not a word would travel beyond those few guards outside the room and the physicians. This time alone allowed them to discuss Weaver and appropriate actions.

"Although I found him despicable and overbearing," Celestia dramatically began, "I don't think he is a threat to Equestria or anypony that doesn't attack him."

"You must also remember, dear sister, he has the paces," Luna pointed out with an even tone, more inclined to sympathize with the lonely stallion. "We cannot expect him to act like other ponies, he doesn't understand. You heard him, he doesn't like to feel threatened, and your actions made him feel like his position was under attack."

"And he ate my magic," Celestia shivered, remembering Tirek's almost successful takeover of Equestria a few years ago. "He ate it like it was food and began to breathe smoke a cry fire. He scared me, Luna, I could sense incredible power from him."

"He was sorry for his actions, Celestia." Celestia looked at Luna with a quizzical expression. "He didn't like his response to your presence, but he couldn't apologize out of national pride. We think he could use some understanding and patience, his rules are ancient, and the new age we live in will be hard for him to adjust to. He probably comes from a time of more strict rules and swift justice. His condition will especially make it difficult to adapt, but in time we are sure Equestria and the void ponies will become close allies."

Celestia sighed and laid her head down on the sheets. Luna was right, of course, she had grown a lot after her return from the moon, and aiding ponies in their dreams gave her a unique perspective that Celestia didn't have. "You are right, I should be more understanding, and look into becoming an ally rather than a rival. If he doesn't already despise me."

"But there is something off-putting about him," Luna said as she looked at the sun. Celestia lifted her head and looked at her sister.

"Like how he's wearing one of his subjects as clothing?"

"Somehow, we think we understand the clothing. No, it's something else, as though he's angry, constantly, we could feel it increase when you arrived. He was full of anger, and hate, but he spoke so gently to us, until everypony woke up and the monsters came. Then he demanded that we leave. Even when he cried after regretting his outburst, we could still feel it. We think, perhaps, he is angry at himself, furious that he is all that is left, hating the fact he doesn't have a cure and is slowly dying from what took the others."

"And it has increased all this time, until it consumed him," Celestia put in for thought. "Such constant anger would make him unstable, to say the least. That, loneliness, fighting off monsters, becoming a monster himself, I am actually surprised he hasn't gone completely mad."

"Perhaps void ponies are special that way."

"Or he is insane and we are just rationalizing everything because we feel sorry for him," Celestia said with a concerned expression. "If we find that his disease isn't fatal to other ponies, perhaps we should convince him to stay at a mental institute. For a time."

"No," Luna said bluntly, rising to her hooves and looking down at her sister. "He would truly go mad if we were to subject him to such treatment. He has displayed no real hostility, merely proof of his power. He stayed away from our world because he was afraid of infecting us, and he left up the ring of fire when we left so he could fall asleep. If that does not show a depth of hope and sanity, than perhaps there are not enough asylums and institutes."

Celestia was taken aback by Luna's outburst, her shock evident upon her face. She was about to speak again, but Luna jumped off the bed and walked over to a window looking out at the outside world.

"He has lived within the void, taking care of dreams, fighting monsters, and experimenting with magic longer than we've been alive. He is more than capable of terrible things, sister, but he hasn't done any wrong. If anything, your display against him was the most wrong committed this day. Speaking of which... I must rest before I raise the moon and tend the dreams again. Your silence would be appreciated."

Luna came back to the bed and slipped under the blankets atop the silk sheet and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. It seemed to take forever before sleep graced her and she began to dream. Celestia stepped off the bed and gave her sister a sad look before grabbing a book and laying upon a Spursian carpet to read.

* * *

Luna's dream was like many of her dreams, a mix of memories of the moon, Canterlot, and the Castle of the Two Sisters, rolled together as an alien city with the faces of strangers and old friends wandering about. It was always night, stars twinkled and pegusi played amongst them, while unicorns and earth ponies wandered the streets and buildings, hardly noticing the princess in their midst. She was in perfect control of her dream, and could have changed it had she wanted, but she preferred this one it was a nice place, and she could just sit back and watch.

"A very nice dream you have here, Princess Luna."

Luna jumped and turned around, seeing Weaver sitting on the wall of a building, defying her control of the dream. She stepped up to him with, curious and slightly upset at the intrusion. "Why have you come here, Weaver Impossible? Last we saw, you were getting ready to sleep."

"I changed my mind," Weaver, a creepy grin spreading across his face, exposing his sharp canines. "You said you tended the dreams, so you must sleep between cycles. It wasn't hard to find your dream. Green, a calm color, you dream to relax while you relax. Interesting concept. But very boring. I would expect a politician like you to enjoy more fantastic dream to overcome your dull life."

"Please, answer our question," Luna said, remaining calm and patient. She didn't want Weaver to feel threatened.

"You do know I can't remember names very well, right? Lady Blue?"

Luna turned again to see another Weaver, this one looking more reserved and respectful of the rules of her dreamscape. She turned back to the first Weaver and saw him start to trot around her with a mischievous look on his face, licking his teeth.

"Come now, Luna," the first Weaver said with a wink. "You prefer more forward stallions, don't you? After all, we're both immortal, or perhaps time is running out."

Luna gasped and backed away from first weaver. "What? What? You're not the real Weaver. Your a piece of our imagination, thus we command you to disappear."

The first Weaver just laughed and trotted towards her with a smooth step, making her back up. "Oh but you want me to be, I can tell. Does the fact I eat meat entice you, make you think of so many... possibilities?"

"Enough," the second Weaver growled, walking past Luna and touching the first Weaver with a white light on his hoof. "I am the King of Dreams, and will not be besmirched as an iniquitous pervert."

The first Weaver disappeared with a shriek and a puff of black smoke. Luna breathed a sigh of relief and stepped up to the second Weaver, placing a hoof on his neck in a friendly gesture.

"Thank you Weaver," she said with a grateful tone. "We are in your debt. Never have we lost control of a dream like that."

Weaver leaned in close to her, making her feel uncomfortable. "Yes, I think I could be your knight in shining armor every once in a while. Did I ever tell you that you have..."

With a loud roar, a third Weaver came out of nowhere and sunk his teeth into the neck of the second Weaver, both of them tumbling head over hooves. When they came to a stop, the third Weaver flung the limp corpse against a wall, where it vanished in a torrent of fire. The dream ponies carried about their non-existant business as if nothing happened.

"A knight in shining armor does not take advantage of a female in any situation," the third Weaver said, sitting down and wiping the blood from his mouth.

"You're not real, are you?" Luna asked, drooping her wings and rubbing her skull with a hoof. "What's going on, why are you in our head?"

"I am the real one," the third Weaver said without moving to face her. "But I don't suppose there is a way to prove that. But tell me anyway, why were you dreaming about me? First as a pervert, and then as a silver tongued maggot, why? You must have conflicting thoughts about me. But let me set your mind in stone."

Luna backed up as Weaver came at her like a predatory beast, stopping just fractions from her, growling and digging in his hooves. "I have a wife and children amongst those beasts, and have no intentions towards any female as long as there is hope within my heart. Remember that, Lady Blue."

"We... we, we," Luna stammered, aghast at his insinuations. "There was no such course..."

"Then why were you thinking it?" Weaver demanded, his eyes narrowing and static popping in his silver mane. "You must have some subdued thought somewhere... But I digress, it's not my place to condemn the subconscious. Forgive me, Lady Blue. I did not come here to fight or question your mind. Let's change these hideous dreamscape."

Before Luna to say a single word, the alien world dissolved and was replaced by a field of crimson grass, rolling hills full of blossoming fruit trees and flowers. The sky was soft pink and amethyst clouds drifted lazily by, finely a blue sun hung in the sky. all Luna could do was stare at the bizarre world that Weaver has put into her mind, it was all simply beautiful and amazing. She was about to ask Weaver something, when a noise distracted her.

It was laughter, she turned to be confronted by another incredible sight. Two Pegasus colts, one red with a blue mane the other the opposite, and each having four wings. flew in circles and dove at the ground towards an earth pony filly, who giggled as she tried to catch their legs. The filly had a golden brown coat with creamy blotches, and her mane and tail were like polished copper. Then Luna saw the filly open her mouth in an extra big laugh and expose omnivorous teeth.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Luna turned back to see Weaver, smiling fondly at the scene with tears flowing freely from his eyes. She watched as his lower lip trembled while he seemed to be forcing himself to sit still. The connection was made immediately.

"She's your daughter," Luna gasped, her wings spreading in amazement. Then a thought crossed her mind. "But we thought you said you couldn't remember what anyone looked like."

"I fell asleep and dreamed," Weaver said, looking like he wasn't even blinking. "I dream of this day every time I fall asleep, but it ends so horribly that my brain pushes it down and I forget when I wake up. I'll spare us both the end."

"What happens to her? Where are we?" Luna asked, growing worried.

"We are in the final happy dream she and I visited as we ran from the beasts," Weaver said, his voice breaking. "Just a young colt from a universe other than yours dreaming of playing with his best friend. As for what happens. Go ahead, look really closely at her, look past the happiness."

Luna gave Weaver one last look and started forward towards the foals, slowing down the closer she came. They continued to play, just a memory, unable to notice her in anyway possible. Luna stopped and lowered her head trying to do as Weaver said and look past the happiness exuding from the children. Then she finally saw it. The fabric texturing of the beasts almost completely covered her little body, her eyes almost like black resin, and her teeth taking on the metal and bone appearance.

"We see," Luna said softly, finding a few tears in her own eyes at the sight. She shut her eye and sat down, only to jump up when two screams cut through the dream.

The little filly had caught the wing of one of the Pegasus colt in her teeth, dragging him down to the ground and began beating him with her tiny hooves. Luna could only watch in horror as the filly viciously attacked the colt. The other colt tried to save its friend, but the filly caught him to and tore at him like a maniac.

"Noooo!"

Luna looked to see a screaming Weaver, a different Weaver rushing over and grabbing the filly, tearing her away from the two colts. The filly then proceeded to tear and beat at him, twisting and biting, while yowling like a wounded cat. The dreamscape began to fade and the real Weaver stepped beside Luna.

"Let's go," he said with a noticeable sob. "You don't need to see this."

"Yes, we must know," Luna said with what sounded like desperation in her voice.

"It's so terrible I forget it when I wake up," Weaver pleaded.

"We must know," Luna stated with a stamp of her hoof. Weaver looked like he was about to protest again, but then he shut his mouth and watched with her.

The other Weaver, still clutching the filly, slipped out the dream, which had turned black, a nightmare, he held her close, trying to calm her with pleads and comforting sounds, stroking her almost nonexistent mane, and rocking her back and forth. After what seemed like a horrible eternity, the filly finely calmed down and began wailing.

"Did it happen again, daddy?" the deformed filly cried bitterly.

"Yes," the other Weaver choked out the terrible word. "But, it's okay, sweetie, it was only a dream, no one was hurt. It'll be okay, just rest now. All you need is..."

"Make it go away, daddy," the filly screamed, burying her face into Weaver's chest. "It hurts, it hurts."

"Ooh," the other Weaver was visibly shaking looking around at the other surrounding dream. "Look, look, Paper, another happy dream. Let's go there, forget this ever happened. It was only an acci..."

"IT HURTS," the filly shrieked, arching her back in pain.

"Does it really hurt that bad?" the other Weaver sobbed, closing his eyes and layin ghis head atop of her's.

"Make it stop, daddy, make it stop," Paper began pounding her head against her father's strong chest, hard, making him wince.

"Stop it, Paper, please. No, not now, just a little while longer. You're tough, like daddy. You can take it a bit longer can't you?"

"Make. It. Stop," Paper wept, now biting her hooves until inky blackness started to seep out.

The other Weaver then stopped shaking and sniffed, taking his daughter and holding her out in front of him while he tried to put on a comforting, brave face. "Is it really too much, sweetie?"

The filly took her hooves out of her mouth and nodded. she arched her back as more pain swam over her and she began to cry.

"I think I can make it go away," the other Weaver said with a forced smile. "Just close your eyes and I'll make all better."

The filly nodded and covered her eyes. Another wave of pain struck her, then another soon after. The other Weaver saw this closed his eyes. He brought her close to his chest produced a sword out of thin air.

"I love you... so... much, my little Paper Doll."

"I... love you too,... daddy."

It was over in a flash and Luna found herself almost crushed in the real Weaver's embrace as he sought comfort. She embraced him back and listened to his cries of anguish. The memory faded away and Luna replaced it with a dreamscape of the Royal Gardens, she stayed silent with Weaver for a long time, just rocking from side-to-side. He didn't like being touched, but he needed to feel someone's kind embrace at this time.

"Am I a horrible father?" Weaver asked, breaking the silence, his face buried into Luna's soft feathers.

"No," Luna stated softly. "You did what you had to, my little pony."

Then, they woke up.

-5- So Little to Do, So Much Time

Luna had awoken to the noise of knocking on the door. It seemed to be past noon, and Celestia had a small stack of finished books next to her. She glanced at Luna but then quickly looked at the door and rose up.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Dr. Needle," came a female voice from the other side of the door. "We've got the results from, well... everything. Do you want me to give you the results through the door? Or..."

Celestia quickly opened the door and stepped to the side to let the mare in. She was a black furred unicorn with a yellow mane and tail, a test tube was her cutie mark. She looked at a clipboard that hovered in front of her while she spoke. Luna and Celestia leaned on every word.

"After scrubbing the room and analyzing all we managed to gather, I must that it is a surprisingly clean room. Except for this odd, unidentifiable bacteria."

Celestia felt herself grow cold. "Is it dangerous?"

"It's dead, everyone we found, dead," Dr. Needle said with a curious expression. "Not that it would matter. After analyzing its chemical compound and micro physiology, it serves no purpose for anything in Equestria. In fact, it's should be impossible that it even exists in the first place. Now, can you tell me what this is all about, Princess?"

Celestia breathed a sigh of relief and closed the door. The doctor looked at her quizzically, now she was alone with the two most powerful beings in Equestria. Foreboding weighed in her stomach like a rock.

"Has something happened, Princess Celestia," Needle asked, looking over at Luna, who had gotten out of the bed and trotted to her sister's side.

"A guest should be arriving soon, and you will analyze him as well," Celestia stated as she turned to Luna and nodded.

Luna sat down and closed her eyes in concentration as she created a physical extension of herself in the void.

* * *

Weaver was awake now, playing with the wall of fire he had built, changing the colors and creating shapes and images in them. He had forgotten his dream and his time with Luna. He didn't question his blank nights, considering them a blessing in this living nightmare he existed in. He felt a wave of soft magic flow over him and looked towards its origin.

Luna materialized a short distance away from the omnivore. She looked at him as he looked at her as though it happened everyday. Luna cleared her throat as she approached him with slow, purposeful steps.

"What news from your world, Lady Blue?" Weaver asked, standing and fully facing her now.

"Your disease is ineffective and useless in our world," Luna said with a small smile. "My sister asks that you come at once so we start a search for a cure."

Weaver's face almost seemed to be cut in half with the smile that crossed his face. He bounced awkwardly a few times on his hooves, and then let out a triumphant howl that made the flying creatures of the fumes plummet to the ground in droves. A new light shined in his eyes, and bowed before Luna, kissing her hoof in thanks.

"Words... there are none to express my gratitude, Lady Blue," he said in a voice broken with joy and appreciation.

"If you can learn our name, that will be enough," Luna said gently, bidding him to rise. "The ground is no place for a king. You shall be a guest of honor in our palace for the time being. Do you know how to leave this world?"

"I told you I knew a way out," Weaver said with a smile. "This way is much easier than creating a duplicate of yourself to walk in the void."

"How do you know our technique?"

"I've experimented with magic for forty-four hundred years, I know the smell, feel, and mechanics without even having to attempt them. It's second nature."

"Then perhaps you can teach us sometime," Luna said with a graceful nod of her head.

"I shall fill your halls and rooms with the scrolls and books I write," Weaver said with a chuckled, vanishing in a flash of green light.

Luna paused a moment, impressed at Weaver's trick. He had phased completely out of the void. Here she, with all her power, could only replicate herself and transmit her thoughts through to the void, leaving behind a vulnerable body. But Weaver could actually teleport through the realms at will. She had to learn this at some point.

* * *

After returning, Luna smiled and looked about for Weaver. But, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Where has he gone?" Luna asked, looking at Celestia.

"Didn't he come with you?" Celestia asked, worry creeping over her.

"He left before we did," Luna said. Then she a thought crossed her mind. "He was very exited by the news we had given... he didn't ask where we were going. He may be..."

In flash of green, Weaver then appeared beside Luna.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with a embarrassed flinch. "I missed the first time and would up on a cliff. Then I had to go back and trace Lady Blue's magic path."

"That is quite alright," Celestia said with an honest smile. Unexplainably, she found his presence to be... almost pleasant. Maybe it was because they were in the comfort of her home, or because he appeared humble outside of the void.

"Can we hurry this along, please?" Weaver asked quickly, grabbing his writhing clothes to hold them still. "Your world is burning my flesh, add that to the pain already in the infected areas, and you get incredible torment."

"Infected?" Dr. Needle gasped. She moved hurried to Weaver's side and moved to try and remove his clothes. "Take these off and let's take a look at you."

Celestia tensed when she saw him scowl and slightly expose his teeth at the doctor's rushed movements. But he did nothing threatening, and allowed her to pull off the clothes and look at the infected blotches. Celestia relaxed again, seeing that he was only finding it uncomfortable. If not for the serious plight, it would be funny.

Luna chased and caught the clothes as they tried to crawl under her bed. "Foul beast, we shall not have thee haunting the palace."

With that, she pulled over a the books Celestia had read and dropped them upon it. Satisfied that would hold it, she turned back to see Dr. Needle running a hoof over the infected area. She could see Weaver was forcing himself to endure it, he seemed to be in pain from her touch.

"I've never seen anything like it," Dr. Needle spoke in a low, amazed voice. "It feels like burlap. What causes this?"

"A biological weapon strong enough to infect my kind," Weaver said through clenched teeth. The Doctor noticed them and backed away a few steps. "It was meant to kill us, but, as clichéd as many stories we tell, it backfired and made us invincible instead. While infect your in incredible pain, the more it covers your body, the more painful it becomes. Eventually it transforms you into an unintelligible monster that wants nothing more than to kill anything that's not one of them. Think of terrifying children's stuffed toys, now imagine it trying to kill you. This is what I hope to find a cure to."

"And what happens if you die before it fully covers you?" Luna asked, wanting an answer to what she saw in the dream. But she disguised her want of an answer as a calm question.

"It takes you over immediately and you become one of them," Weaver nodded to his clothes. "That, I made from one recently got transformed, so that if I ever found a cure, I would be able to test it immediately on another to see if it worked on a fully transformed pony."

"Anypony you know?" Luna immediately regretted the question. The look that flashed across Weaver's eyes told her all she needed to know.

Weaver managed to keep his composure, save for a small stammer and a soft tone. "Is-is it wrong f-for me to want some... somepony really close to me sooner than others?"

"No," Celestia said with a shake of her head, turning Weaver's attention on her. "It shows you have a good heart."

Weaver looked at the ground and smiled. "A good heart? I can assure you, I don't have one."

"What?" Dr. Needle squeaked when Weaver looked at her.

"The infection works inside as well as out," Weaver said as he placed a hoof to his chest. "My hide shall become like fabric, and the inside will turn to black bile. Right now I am at the halfway point of the transformation, in another forty-four hundred years..."

His voice trailed off and he stood up straight and put on a stoic face. "But that should be time enough."

-6- Five Years Later

Some might say that for anypony who can live an eternity would see the passing of time as trivial, something with little worth pondering. But this was not so, every second felt like a second, each minute felt like a minute, and hour to an hour, and day to a day, a year to a year. Time was an ever present nuisance that bit and nagged like a swarm of mosquitoes, telling everypony that it wouldn't be there for long. How right it was. Even with no imminent death in sight, one would always curse himself for missing moments or not spending enough time in them. But the worst of it all, finding out your time was worthless.

The first three years appeared promising for Weaver, there was so much to do and learn. Weaver had read countless and books, and, true to his word, wrote books and scrolls of his own, to be stored in the royal archives until they could come up with a proper way to introduce him to Equestria without panic of an epidemic or carnivore ponies. But, at the beginning of the fourth year, Weaver was no longer convinced. He had given them knowledge collected over the course of his fifty-two hundred year lifespan, showing them pathways of magic and science, showed them evidence of countless realities, but in return all he had was shelter, food, and constant prodding at the end of needle. He had lived longer than anypony here had ever dreamed of, and in all that time, never had he felt so used and alone. On a few occasions he found himself wishing he had never met Luna in the void, thinking back fondly even.

In the void, all he had were monsters that he could easily fend off, dreams of an infinite number of universes to play in, and his meals weren't so controlled. He knew what to expect there, and the many times he returned to the void with Luna and scientists to study it, he found himself tempted to run off in infinite blackness, maybe even return to his hollow kingdom. In Equestria, they were doing everything they could to make him comfortable and happy. In other words, they pitied him.

If there was one thing Weaver despised, it was pity. He loved that there were other ponies to talk to, even if they reeked of a vegetarian diet, but the fact he was kept from harm and monitored all the time had slowly eaten away at him. He had attempted to leave the area he was confined to a few times, but he was always stopped. While he knew he had enough power to get past any obstacles they had set up, he didn't want to hurt anypony. But these last two years were putting new thoughts in his head, questions.

Were they just using him for his knowledge? Were they really looking for a cure? Were they ever going to let him leave? Was he just a pet now? That last one was utterly ridiculous to him. He knew Celestia's opinion of him was still the same as when they first met. She was understanding of his social disability and predicament, but the tension was still a fine line. Could this be a degrading revenge to her? With that last question, and the pain of his infected areas, were pushing him over an edge. He began to perform petty, childish pranks on the "Lady White" as he still called her. Harmless things at first, such as water in her shoes, causing cold wind to blow into her room at night, hiding her crown. But it never really had an effect on her. Then he upgraded to bolder things, heating up her shoes to painful levels, making it hail on her bed, and one time, absolutely smashing her crown to powder. With that last prank, Celestia had caught him in the act.

There was a long argument full of shouts and screams, even flares of magic and aggressive stances. But by then Luna had caught wind of it and stood in between them. Weaver, under advisement from Luna, willfully let himself get escorted back to his room while the sisters discussed a course of action. Luna managed to dissuade Celestia's desire for retribution and convinced her that Weaver was just suffering from cabin fever. It was then that Celestia agreed to let Weaver have free roam of the palace grounds, just as long as he was closely watched.

But even that had it's limit of enjoyment. Weaver wasn't allowed to hunt the animals, had to keep clear of any guests, couldn't practice any high-power magic, and was not supposed to get out of his guards' sight. So of course when the fifth year came around, he had had enough of it and broke all four rules at the same time.

* * *

The three pegasus guards panicked when Weaver disappeared right before their eyes. Two went to search for him while the third went to tell Princess Celestia. Waver in the mean time just wanting to hunt, just one little squirrel, no one would miss it. He had only turned himself invisible, knowing that the guards would panic and split up, meaning this small area would be overlooked for a few minutes, that would be time enough. He had already spotted the squirrel he wanted and crouched down low to the ground to sneak up on it.

One hoof after another, he silently approached the unsuspecting creature as it was busily trying to crack open a walnut. Weaver was glad he had left his clothing in his room, or else its thrashing would have alerted the squirrel before he got within ten feet. The creature was just a within pouncing distance now, and Weaver coiled his legs like iron springs, just about to snuff it out and enjoy a raw delicacy.

"I say, what are you doing, sir?"

With a yelp, Weaver sprung into the air, lighting himself on fire, a defense mechanism he had developed a long time ago, scared away the squirrel and whipped around to see a unicorn stallion and mare. He looked around for a moment, trying to figure out what to say or do at this moment in time. He mentally cursed himself for not hearing their hoofsteps. The past years seem to have been murder on his defenses.

"Do... you need help, sir?" the mare asked, backing away from the smoking stallion with a terrified expression.

Weaver suddenly realized he was on fire and quickly shook it off. Smiling nervously, attempting to come up with something to say, unwittingly exposing his teeth. After wanting out, he found himself at a loss for what to do when confronted by strangers.

"Hi?" he managed to say. Smacking himself at the dull simplicity he seemed to be exuding at the moment.

"That's some very... interesting dental work," the stallion as friendly as he could, approaching Weaver.

Weaver found himself backing away. He had no idea why, he was a king, a fighter of monsters, powerful enough to stand against the princesses, though not fully tested, and yet he was a stumbling idiot in front of these two, soft-hooved unicorns. He cleared his throat and tried to put up his best front.

"I am Weaver Impossible, a guest here at the castle," he said, his ears turning red a giveaway he was nervous. Stupid ears.

"I see," said the stallion, placing a hoof to his chest and nodding his head. "I am Fancy Pants, and this is my lovely companion, Fleur-de-Lis."

"Charmed," Weaver said, bowing slightly to the mare. He took note that her name sounded different from most of the other ponies.

"What is wrong with your fur?" the mare managed to squeak out.

"Just a bad case of the mange," Weaver lied with a dismissive wave. "Don't get too close."

"Yes, well...," Fancy Pants started, thinking of a way to turn the conversation. The bare patches were quite revolting, but that was hardly an excuse to forget formality. "... I've never seen an earth pony with the ability to light himself on fire before. Not that I doubt your capabilities, mind you, but... are you wearing some sort of magical artifact."

"Nope, it's all natural," Weaver said with a proud smile. That seemed to impress both unicorns. He continued. "Was born like this, and as for my teeth... let's just not talk about that, younger days of stupidity and mistakes, know what I mean?"

Fancy Pants nodded. "Indeed. But, as you get older, you wish to relive each moment, just to feel young again."

"Oh, absolutely," Weaver quickly agreed with a few quick nods. He was lying, he hated everything about those early days of his development. Not even after fifty-two hundred years did look back with even a moment of fondness. Youth and stupidity were just that to him. As such he had always preferred the company of older ponies, the ministers, the advisors, the generals, and his father the king. "But just take life by the throat and throttle it for all its worth, then grind the corpse into product and eat it."

Fancy Pants laughed, Fleur turned a whole new shade of pale.

"Hold on a moment," Weaver said, noticing the mare's discomfort. "Let me cover this up."

The two strangers looked on in amazement as countless plant fibers were carefully extracted from the surrounding foliage, just a few from each plant so as not to damage them. The fibers wove and twisted together around his body until he had a stunning green tunic that covered the bare patches. He even took fibers from flower petals and wove them into the edges, to ad more color and charm. as an added bonus, it smelled good.

"This better?" Weaver asked with a hopeful smile.

They just nodded, unable to express their amazement.

Weaver's ears drooped as he jumped to conclusions. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to show off, it wasn't my intention. I just thought you would rather not look at the sores."

Fleur was the first to speak. "Are you a new student to her highness, Princess Celestia?"

Weaver rolled his eyes at that name. "If anything, I'm teaching her a few things. Please tell me that didn't sound like a sick innuendo, I hate those things. Have you read the latest Daring Do? Page two hundred and seventeen, paragraph four... that was utterly unnecessary. Children read those things for crying out loud."

Fleur managed a giggle as he jumped subjects. "So then, why are you here? And to that, where do you come from, that accent is simply marvelous."

Weaver was taken aback by that. She liked his accent? Maybe that was why Dr. Needle and some of the other female doctors would listen to his ramblings.

"Not really from anywhere. Been moving around a lot. I'm sharing my knowledge of the world with the princesses. As for the accent, I guess I've developed it over the course of the years. As for the magic, I really can't say, guess it's just a gift."

"How long have you been here?" Fancy Pants asked, truly intrigued by Weaver.

"Five years," Weaver said before realizing what he had been asked.

"Five years?" Fleur asked in an amazed voice, placing a hoof on her chest. "We come here at least once a month, surely we would have seen you."

"The mange was really bad when I first arrived," Weaver quickly lied. He hoped he was convincing. Even though he wanted to rebel against Celestia's rules and be treated with the respect entitled to his status as a king, he didn't want to shame her. He would do his best to keep her reputation clear.

"Perhaps your not used to the Equestrian strands of mange then," Fancy Pants thought out loud.

"Most likely the case," Weaver smiled. "I was never so sick in my life. Really not a story to tell in front of a lady though."

"How kind," Fleur smiled.

"So you've been inside the castle all these years?" Fancy Pants asked.

"I've been allowed to wander the gardens for a while now. I'm getting better as days pass. Today I managed to escape my... what's a good name for ponies who are supposed to watch you closely to make sure you don't get hurt while you wander about? never mind, I escaped them and decided to have a little fun. I was going to catch a squirrel for a sn... small game, heehee, then you snuck up on me and I caught on fire."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Fancy Pants chuckled a bit. "I hope we didn't spoil your day."

"Are you kidding?" Weaver deadpanned. "You're the first ponies I've talked to outside of a controlled environment in all five years I've been here."

"That would drive me mad," Fleur put in with a wide-eyed expression.

"More than isolation, actually," Weaver agreed. "I was once completely alone for a... few years, but being here, poked and prodded by doctors, watched over by guards, not allowed out of a certain area, the same faces day in and day out, it's... it's..." Weaver sat down upon the ground and sighed looking down at the ground, letting his silver mane fall down over his face. "I've done things I'm not proud of just to convince Lady White to let me come out here. I really don't want to feel like a medical experiment, even if this is really important to my health. I want to feel normal. Even though I know that can never be."

"Who's Lady White?" Fancy Pants asked with a curious tilt of his head.

"The white princess," Weaver said, looking up with a sheepish smile. "I have a hard time remembering names, even when screamed a million times a day."

"The paces?" Fleur asked, trotting up and placing a hoof bravely upon his shoulder. She pulled back when he shied away from her touch.

Weaver nodded, rubbing his shoulder where she had touched him.

Fleur's expression changed to one that could only be translated as motherly. "We have a colt with the paces as well, Weaver, we completely understand."

"They've all said that they understood," Weaver hissed, standing back up and shutting his eyes tightly. "But all they give me is pity. The absolute lowest emotional stimulation. All I've wanted is to be treated like fellow pony, not some fragile chalice. I'm sure your son feels the same way."

Weaver turned and started to leave, but Fancy Pants stopped him with a few words.

"We do not pity you, Weaver Impossible," he said with conviction.

Weaver turned around looked him over, searching for any sign he was lying.

"We fund many charities and programs," Fancy Pants said as he stepped up beside Fleur. "Three of which being research of the paces, and its effects, along with the psychology of it. What kind of ponies would we be if we didn't try to understand our son or the projects we support?"

Weaver looked at them and then back at the castle. He gave them a warm smile. "I need to get back before they send out the whole guard. Thank you for the conversation, hope we can do this again, and perhaps under better circumstances. Please say hi to you son, his brother and three sisters for me."

Fleur and Fancy Pants were shocked once again.

"How did you know we had five children?" Fleur asked.

"I can smell them on you," Weaver said behind his back as he trotted towards the castle. Leaving the impressed couple behind.

None of them knew that four pairs of eyes had been watching them through the cover of a hedge. Princess Celestia and the three guards. She had masked their scent with a spell, knowing many of Weaver's abilities, and observed the whole conversation without drawing attention. She then realized something about herself

-7- Rising Sun, Nashing Teeth

Far south from the Canterlot scape, beyond Everfree, upon the top of a snowswept mountain overlooking a desolate valley on the borders of Equesrtia, stood a figure completely covered in crimson wrapping. By the shape, it was a stallion, a large one at the that, and over the spaces where his eyes should be, were odd symbols in there stead, radiating inky blackness. The ends of the wrappings waved in a gust of as he just stared in the general direction of Canterlot.

A humming noise behind him caused him to turn and see a blue mare in a coat of furry tails cuddling a raggedy doll covered in more stitches than a reanimated corpse. Close by was a small fire with a pot suspended over it by a hooked iron rod. What was in the pot? Neither of the two ponies cared to think about. The mare had a purple mane and tail, neatly braded in complex patterns, and the rest of her was so nicely groomed it might put a certain white unicorn to shame. But her eyes were the most unique, as they the color kept changes, and not in sync with each other either.

The stallion sat on the opposite side of the fire and stared across at the mare who just kept humming and cuddling the doll. She was an enigma to him, and he to her, she seemed to have always been there with him, through fires, riots, wars, storms, chaos, and things not even they were sure they could believe. There didn't seem to be a time before they met, either because they had forgotten, or the time before was too much for their minds. Whatever their reasons for not remembering, they didn't discuss it.

"This place seems peaceful," the mare said suddenly, setting the doll aside and reaching towards the large ladle in the pot to give the contents a taste. It was as bitter and vile as the bilge in a ship's hull. But she downed it anyway, it much better than many of the other things she had had to eat.

The stallion produced a map from the wrappings and opened it up. "It would appear that we sit upon the Seven Horns, a mountain range separating a place called Equestria and Germaney. These are puns, not names. What a ridicules world. I believe this will be easier than the last world."

"These two certainly were," said the mare as she pointed to the pot with the ladle. "These bodies the world gave us seem to indicate a more complex system though. Like how I'm holding a serving utensil without any form of grasping appendage. Perhaps another world ripe with magic?"

The stallion shoved the map back into the wrappings and shrugged as he grabbed a plate and held it out so that his companion could pile on some of the foul garbage. "What else could it be? Universes with no concept of magic, universes with a magic fantasies, universes where science is impossible, universes where the laws of physics are devised by madmen. Like our dear friend the Doctor. Several versions of him, and one constant. Always running, just a man trying to keep ahead of the tsunami before it crashes into the shore."

"Why do we always find him though?" the mare asked as she fixed another plate for herself. "Of an infinite number of universe, how is it we're always running into him? How many times have I asked this question now?"

"Destiny, of course," the stallion chuckled and he began pulling away the wrappings from around his head. "The chances of us running against him as many times as we have in an infinite expanse is simply infinity to zero. There can be no other explanation."

"Do you think he'll be here?" the mare asked with a hopeful gleam in her eye.

"I have no doubt," the stallion chuckled. he had removed the last of the wrappings and exposed dark brown fur with a solid white mane and golden eyes. He opened his mouth and exposed a set of teeth exclusive to voracious carnivores, just right for consuming the contents of his plate.

The mare watched in wicked pleasure as she watched his eat his meal like a ravenous wolf. No matter what shape a universe put them in, he was always so handsome and funny. But there was something about this form of his that really punctuated all the things she loved about him. That suddenly gave her a revolutionary idea.

"Why don't we not do as we normally do?" the mare asked, standing up and trotting around the fire and wrapping her hooves around his neck.

"What do you mean?" the stallion asked quizzically, his mouth rimmed with the disgusting slop.

The mare licked away the mess from his face and rubbed her nose against his cheek. This universe was really making her frisky. "I mean, how about instead of eating everything and sending the rest into Oblivion, we instead... conquer it, become its masters. There's really no need to do the same things over and over again is there? I mean, after ten million years, hasn't gotten stale? Routine even?"

"Keep talking," the stallion said, falling into his companion's feminine spell.

"We've accomplished the impossible time and time and time again. We've broken the laws of nature, physics and time. We're practically a fact of infinity. Who knows when we started this, a million years in the future, a few seconds in the past, this moment we're talking right now we could be just starting our rampage. We don't even know why."

The stallion felt himself being lifted off the ground so that he was standing on his hind legs with his hooves holding his companion's hooves. She spoke in a seductive, singsong voice the pulled him deeper into her wily charms.

"How about we do something different? Instead of destruction, we can rule all time and infinity. Take over the next universe, again and again, have people worship us and bend to our every word. We could grow fat, sit upon thrones of gold and bones, and everything would be perfect. We'll never destroy all the universes anyway, infinity is infinity, and there is no way to destroy them all. Please, Let's stay here and conquer."

The stallion let go of her hooves, causing her to cry out as she lost her balance. But he caught her in an embrace before she fell and pulled her close, stroking her mane, feeling the silky strands. He knew what she was doing, but he didn't care, he loved her far to much to deny her any pleasure. "If we can be destroyers, then I know we can be conquerors. There is nothing these beings have that can save them from us. Even the Doctor has failed every time. Maybe we can even get him to serve us. Maybe he'll be tired of running one day. We'll soon see."

-8- From Where I Stand

The day was waning, not quite time for Luna to raise the moon, and still too early for dinner. Celestia wandered the halls of the castle, thinking about what she had observed in the garden, hovering a book in front of her, distracted from her surroundings. This enigma that was Weaver, King of Dreams, shy to strangers, raging beast to those who he thought challenged him, and yet gentle and full of hate so deep she couldn't fathom it. Even his magic was strange, not based simply on internal or external power, but something much more apart from the natural orders she knew. His writings and diagrams of magic were stunning, some so complex that not even she and Luna together could accomplish them. Yet he could demonstrate them as though they were a spattering of foal tricks. Yet it was not his magic and darkness she was considering now.

"I've distrusted him since we met," Celestia said to herself, flipping another page of the book with her magic. "He plagued me with foalish tricks, pettily berated me with nuisances. Atop of that, he reduced my crown to powder, though it was simple enough to recreate it, it proved his contempt for my very presence. He resents my helping hoof that scattered the monsters in his hopeless kingdom of shadows. He renounced my very presence and prestige before my sister. He made open threats to my being... yet why do I pity him? All nations respect my position because I control the sun, bringing light over their fields, yet he shows such contempt for my importance to the world. He lives in darkness, but basks under my sun in joy for the warmth it gives him."

She paused and looked out a window. Outside was a birdbath full of robins and wrens. She closed her eyes in a scowl and fluttered her wings in frustration.

"He dared to hunt in my gardens to fill his lust for raw flesh. He rejects the diet I give to him, perfect to an omnivorous monster such as him. We spent months just to find out what he could and couldn't eat, yet he longs for the poisons his golden blood cannot contain. But we shouldn't have bothered, his only affliction is his ultimate transformation into a mindless monster. One that would be much less powerful and easier to control. His physiology is hardly of an importance now. He helped us capture and bring back some beasts to hold in the deepest dungeons to study, he..."

She stopped herself in horror and disgust at where she was beginning to drag her thoughts. How could she dare start drifting to such a dark place? Weaver was a living being infected by a disease that drained his emotions and soul, transforming him into a patchwork monster. He was her rival, no one else's. Of all the ponies he had confrontations with, she was the only one he held a grudge towards. Had she ever tried to reconcile with him? No, even after all the knowledge he had given them in hopeful thanks return of a cure, holding back his powerful magic when anger, impatience and terrible fits of depression took over. Celestia had left Dr. Needle and Luna to comfort him, never seeking to see if she herself could aid him in any way.

"He's done his best to comply to our requests. Shared his knowledge of magic, helped in every way he could. Made himself useful, hasn't harmed anypony. My sun and the air burns his infected flesh, and he's not got over it. He's sad, constantly, and I've kept him locked away for fear he would hurt my subjects. If he wanted to, he obliterate the castle and half of Canterlot before Luna and I could react. He has done no wrong to any, save me, who has refused to reconcile herself. Am I, instead, the monster?"

She thought back a couple years to when a maid had brought her son with her to work, because she had found no one to look after him. Celestia wasn't worried, as she worked no where near Weaver's confines. But colts, being the delightfully mischievous creatures they were, had gotten away from his mother and managed to sneak through the castle unnoticed until he stumbled upon Weaver in the middle of a meal upon the balcony. Weaver had explained having to quickly knock a part of his meal off his plate to keep from terrifying to foal, and lick the blood from his lips before he noticed. He shared his dessert with the colt and then made sure to take him back to his mother, personally. No amount of arguing from guard, doctor, or princess could stop him from his intended route of chivalry.

Celestia knew she should have congratulated him for his conduct. But instead she had reprimanded him, telling him it was not a good thing to be seen by others who were not privy to his existence. She had done so right in front of the maid and her son, practically humiliating him. He had controlled himself quite well, when she could feel the rage building up inside him.

She realized now that she had wanted him to explode in front of the maid and her son. She had wanted him to be seen as a monster. How could she? She had never wished such a thing upon Chrysalis, Sombra, Discord or even Tirek. She had persevered through them all, even going so far as to reform Discord. But she had felt sorry for them, wishing they were not so evil. But for Weaver... she felt pity.

Pity was an emotion directed at something weak and deemed useless. Weaver was anything but weak, and the list of his uses expanded every day. He had endured countless years alone in an infinite expanse of nothing. But she had enclosed him within an isolated area, guarded and constantly watched. She found herself now marveling at how he had not gone insane. Dr. Needle and her sister were his only friends, and Weaver made no effort to make anymore. But there was only so much a couple of mares could talk about that a stallion would be interested in.

Celestia dropped the book and looked at her reflection in the window. Her perfect features, creamy fur, and perpetual mane were a majestic sight for anypony to behold. But now she could see a twisted beast beneath. How could she feel sorry for monsters who had ravaged her kingdom, but hate and contempt for a single stallion who had done nothing to anypony but her. And what he had done was hardly worth thinking about. Save her crown.

"What have I become?" She asked herself as she lowered her head to the ground. "I smile before my subjects, I attend festivals and give the gift of my sun to the whole world. Yet I keep a pony prisoner within the halls of this castle. A Gilded cage with many exits that he honors. How can I wear this crown while I dare to..."

"No," she said, standing up straight and dignified. "I will not stand here like a child who does not know what to do. I have committed a grievous wrong, and now I must make it right. I shall... apologize."

* * *

Weaver's room was nice, like most of the rooms in the castle, but dark with closed curtains and stacks of books were all over the place. Weaver cluttered the place up with all the books her read an reread, mainly physical sciences, some histories and novels, but surprisingly few books on magic. There were also plenty of blank books that he filled with his own notes and diagrams, some of them he wrote in an archaic language when he didn't feel like sharing some information he gathered. Keeping it for himself until a later date when it was no longer of use for him.

He preferred using brushes rather than quills, giving his words and sketches a special look. He could even use up to ten brushes at once to fill of an entire page in seconds. He could definitely use more, but then he wouldn't be able to see what he was doing on the small space he had. Though he sometimes found himself absentmindedly doodling things during moments of deep thought.

He laid his brushes down on a board next to him and looked at a clock in a wall. He had been expecting Lady White to come in yell something or other about him getting away from the guards, but that had been hours ago. He had destroyed the grass fiber suit, as it would had turned into paper in a matter of hours anyway. He hoped Lady White wouldn't find out too soon about his meeting with... Fancy Ants and Flower Deli? Their names were already fading from his mind. He hated that.

Then he heard the door creak open. With a sigh, he stood up. The jig was up. As usual, he would take his punishment casually and probably loose his temper near the end. But when he looked at Lady White, something seemed different.

Clearing her throat, Celestia strode past Weaver and laid a book atop a random stack. She didn't look at him as she addressed him.

"I was in the garden this morning, when I came upon a very interesting sight." Her ears twitched when she heard his hooves slide on the carpet for a more stable stance. He was expecting her usual, regrettable attitude. But she would give him none of it. I called my guards to me and hid our scent and watched as a stallion appeared to ready to eat a squirrel in my garden. Now I was ready to stop this stallion then and there..."

Weaver narrowed his eyes and pulled back his lips to reveal his teeth.

"...Then along came two other ponies that I had somehow missed," Celestia continued without turning around. "They surprised the stallion I was afraid he was going to hurt them. But instead, he appeared to make friends with them, and told them what might be considered lies, but I know it was merely vague truth."

Weaver was confused. Her voice hadn't changed at all, and her words didn't seem to mean anything. He kept up his face and stance the same just to be safe.

"He spoke of many things that me think." Celestia turned around and faced Weaver with no anger or reproach in her eye. That disarmed him, and he took a calm step forward, losing his aggression and taking on a face of pure confusion. "It saddens me that you are so confused."

"Uuuh," Weaver said for lack of anything substantial on his brain at the moment. What was going on?

"I have been absolutely terrible to you, Weaver Impossible," Celestia said, lowering her head a little. "You have done nothing to earn my distrust and scorn. What happened in the void was your kinds natural reaction when you feel threatened, and I dared to antagonize you even more. You have proven yourself willing to go through inconceivable trials to find help for your kingdom. When you found help, you wound up a prisoner within stone walls."

"I hope this is an apology that will end soon," Weaver stated bluntly.

Celestia actually smiled, catching Weaver off-guard. She nodded. "Yes. I should stop talking, you know it all. I am here to apologize to you, King Weaver. I pray you can forgive my actions these past five years."

"You're forgiven," Weaver said quickly with a broad smile that surprised Celestia. "But, I'm to have to ask for my freedom now."

Celestia nodded. "All our medical tests on you were completed a long time ago, all the other tests have been to sate curiosities. I am sorry to subject you to that as well. If we need you for help with the cure, we will contact you. I will arrange for you to stay at the Ponyville Castle, where you can interact with the ponies of my kingdom as you wish. The only pony I insist go with you is Dr. Needle, as I feel you'll need a familiar face by your side to help you adjust to the more friendly nature of the place."

"Done," Weaver said, trying to surprise the excitement in his voice. "But you will call me immediately if you find a cure."

Celestia nodded. "Of course. You'll be the first face your healed ponies will see. Would you like to leave tonight or..."

"Tonight," Weaver piped up.

"Very well," Celestia said with a bob of her head. "I will leave you to pack while I prepare a chariot."

After she left, Weaver trotted over to a wardrobe and pulled out his living clothes, putting it on and looking around the room with a shrug. Nothing else was his. Then he remembered the notebook he was writing in. He closed it and tucked it inside his clothes for safekeeping. He was about to leave, when something caught his attention.

He levitated it over to him and saw that it was the book Celestia had brought with her. "The Paces: A Contemporary Thesis". He put it back and headed out the door with a half-smile on his face. "Are you really just now trying to understand such an old thing, Lady White?"