“Am I dreaming? It’s hard to tell sometimes. This feels off. Wrong somehow.”

A small blue alicorn filly seemed to swim through the air, held aloft by invisible eddies and swirling currents of magic. Somehow, she flew without flapping her wings, and revelled in the freedom offered by flight. Tiny, exuberant, she radiated foalish cheer and possessed a fine reckless grin.

“Not wrong,” she said to Dim. “Changing. Rapidly changing. Dreams of Night and Dreams of Day are to be found here. What was once two is now one, as it should be. Miraculous healing has taken place, Dim, thanks to the efforts of many.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Luna’s stars.” The filly rolled through a cloud and white puffs clung to her feathers. “Love. There are many reasons… many factors. Everything has come into alignment. For so long, the scales were out of balance, but harmony is being restored. Luna is truly joyful again and each day, she recovers a little bit more of herself. Why, I do believe that Luna could once more serve as the Element of Laughter. Not that she needs to, but she could.”

Dim, who made no effort to enjoy himself while he drifted aimlessly through the sky, gave careful consideration to the words said by the Essence of Night. Daydreams? Did such things have power? Perhaps they did. He was given to daydreams… flights of fancy. Perhaps by herself, Princess Celestia held no power over dreams—but if what the Essence of Night was saying was true, and the two sisters were merging somehow—he couldn’t finish his thought. The knowledge of something greater revealed itself, but what?

“You exist in a peculiar, precarious position,” the filly said to Dim, distracting him. “The magic of the Void has changed you. Consumed you. Altered your destiny. It has given you strength, immense strength, but it is not the strength of raw power that you have always lusted after. You now stand upon the brink of greatness, Dim… the very precipice of distinction… of significance. Something more than the Dark name that you’ve inherited. You have the means to become your own pony, just as Luna now possesses the means to become her own pony. She is free to step out from beneath the shadow cast over her.”

Dim did not understand.

“Trixie Lulamoon has become her own pony… one of Luna’s stars. Name and circumstance laid her low. The curse almost did her in. But she persisted. She found her way. Through altruism for another, because she learned to love another beyond the love she held for herself, she broke the shackles of narcissism that held her in bondage. Beatrix Lion Lulamoon became her own pony at long last.”

With a turn of his head, Dim watched his swooping, looping, barrel-rolling companion.

“Shining Armor,” the filly began. “Another of Luna’s stars. He faced madness and betrayal. Another came along and exploited his life. A foul temptress took on the form of his bride to be, and seduced him. Even worse, this vile creature took on his form, and using his form, drained the love from his bride to be, rendering her almost powerless. This heartless, disgusting parasite clung to the back of Shining Armor’s bride to be and whispered sweet, sweet words into her ears while using his voice.” The filly shuddered, shook her head, and let out a sad sigh.

“For the sake of love, they had to recover. No time was given to them to heal, to sort out the great deception that had taken place. For the nation to recover, and for Princess Mi Amore Cadenza to truly take her place as the embodiment of Love, she had to possess a love that could endure betrayal and mistrust. A love that had known the pain of cheating, though done through deception. Shining Armor was but one half of a far greater whole. In time, when his heart is ready, he will fully embrace what he is meant to be.”

A pattern emerged.

“Twilight Sparkle… Princess of Friendship. Yet another of Luna’s stars.”

“And also a form of love,” Dim remarked, catching on.

“Ah, but you are a clever pony, Dim Dark.” When she turned to look at Dim, The Essence of Night’s eyes were eyeless, but filled with stars and swirling galaxies.

“What terrible sin did Luna commit against love that her distant offspring had to be punished for it?”

“That is for Luna to discover, and for you to live with,” the filly replied, still starry-eyed and channeling the cosmos. “Tell me, Dim… what love do you represent? Why does Princess Mi Amore Cadenza have this attraction to you? For what reason is she compelled to aid you? She was Twilight’s foalsitter and Shining Armor’s soulmate. The stars continue to align. You and Princess Mi Amore Cadenza were brought together for a reason… but I don’t yet know what it is.”

“I thought I loved,” Dim said to his companion as the clouds around him grew dark. “Darling Dark. But I was decieved. Manipulated. What we had wasn’t love. I don’t know what it was. It has left me with hollow places.”

Ceasing her frolicking abandon, the Essence of Night focused her sad expression upon Dim, and floated beside him, her cosmos-filled eyes never leaving him, never looking away. Reaching out, she moved closer, touched him, and some incomprehensible force made Dim look into her eyes. Those eyes, the window to her soul; vast expanses of forever could be seen beyond those panes, but he could not turn away.

Though he did not give voice to his question, Dim wondered, could love have negative aspects?

“Your friend was hurt; great harm befell her and she endured immeasurable suffering. In response, you committed atrocities… truly dreadful acts. You behaved as a Dark would—”

“So what if I did?” demanded Dim. “Whatever atrocities I commit, I visit them upon those who meet me halfway.”

“—and yet, you showed mercy and compassion for a goblin. A goblin of all creatures. Not something a Dark would do. No self respecting Dark would ever feel even a mote of emotion for a goblin.”

“Eerie has a fondness for bushwoolies—”

“Bushwoolies are not goblins, Dim. Sane, rational ponies do not associate with goblins. Sane, rational creatures do not associate with goblins. In fact, the only creatures that associate with goblins are other goblins… but that’s not entirely true either, given how they kill and eat other goblins from strange tribes.”

Snarling, Dim tried to look away and found that he couldn’t; transfixed, he was forced to stare into the soul of the Essence of Night.

“It could be argued that Blackbird is a monster—”

“You shut your mouth!” A truly wicked rage boiled within Dim and something awful awoke within him. Spittle flecked Dim’s lips and though his nerves demanded that his muscles move, that his magic do something, he remained paralysed. When he tried to speak again, to give voice to his outrage, his tongue hung limp within his mouth.

“There’s that rage. There it is. That anger. You terrorised that fort full of bandits and that rage… that rage that I just saw, that fueled your flames. No one else loved those peasants enough to protect them… but you… you did. Blackbird is a monster… let there be honesty between us, Dim, she is not like other hippogriffs and you know that. She’s strong enough to contain the essence of the Void. The Spider Queen that you visited, you showed her considerable—no, remarkable politeness. And then there is the matter of Puke Puddle. These are all things that most would be disgusted by. Repulsed by. Disgusting primitives, Dim. Disgusting peasants. Disgusting monsters. Do you have no sense of revulsion? What are you Dim? What love do you represent?”

Dim struggled for an answer, but nothing came to mind. He struggled, he fought, every fibre of being cried out in defiance and he tried to look away from the Essense of Night’s cosmos-filled eyes. The longer he stared, the less appealing forever seemed to be. Something clenched around his heart. Why did he want to save the peasants of Fancy? Why had he cared? Why was he angry? Why was he struggling?

Around him, clouds shattered like glass and shards of white rained down. So too did the blue sky break, and all around him, reality fell apart. In moments, there was nothing else, just emptiness. Just him and the Essence of Night. Darkness settled over him like a shroud and he grew weary from his resistance.

What was he?

Why was he?

Then too, did Dim shatter, and his shards descended down into the nothingness…

Blackbird savoured her glass of orange juice, a rare and appreciated luxury. The faint, filthy rays of dawn trickled through a window blackened from smoke. An act of bravery, the steel curtain had been thrown open just so the dawn could be seen. Sitting on the floor, she peered out the dingy, dirty window and examined what was left of the city.

Overhead, the skies were almost a bloody red and billowing columns of smoke created soiled, dull crepuscular rays that brought no joy, no cheer, no sense of awe. Fires still raged and far down below, at street level, the faint pop-pop of gunfire could be heard by Blackbird’s sensitive ears.

Bombay Sable walked up to the window, peered out with her surviving eye, and made a disgusted face. She had a bright, cheerful scarf tied around her head, covering her deformity. With her every movement, her pistol and sword slapped against her thigh. Raising her paw, she pulled her wand out from its protective steel and leather sheath, then murmured the words of a spell while waving her wand about. A coppery, glittery glow manifested from the tip of the wand, and then, after a brilliant flash of light, the window was spotless—at least for now. With a faint meow, she slid her wand back into its sheath and then admired her handiwork.

“Morning,” said Blackbird to her companion.

“It certainly is,” Bombay replied, muttering her response.

“What has you in a mood? Are you okay? Missing the Bard?”

For a moment, Bombay was sad, but then her face turned from sorrow to disgust. “Dim rescued a goblin. For the life of me, I’ll never understand why. He had Motte patch it up. Munro… Munro…” Words failed Bombay and she let out a hiss of disgust. “Munro and little Argentée dressed it up. Like a doll. Somehow, somebody found a doll’s dress at the request of little Argentée. It’s like a little minotaur maid dress… or something… I don’t know. This is madness. Rescuing goblins and dressing them up like dolls?”

“They put a dress on it?” Blackbird found herself intrigued. A goblin wearing a dress. She was reminded of the time when her father had taken her to the travelling carnival. “When Dim wakes up, I think he’s going to be surprised to find a goblin in a dress.”

“Grief does funny things to a creature.” Bombay paused, her scarred face contorted, and she mewed in disgust. “I know what it is doing to me, but I’m afraid for Dim. This is worrisome. I don’t want to say anything that might upset him. Dim is not exactly stable even on his best days. Moon madness. Lunacy. His clock was wound too tight.”

Blackbird took a sip of orange juice, and it was sunshine in a dainty glass.

“I’m glad the Bard isn’t here to see this,” Bombay muttered when she returned her gaze to the window. “Those fools out there are burning up their own livelihoods. Their homes. Pâté au Poulet would be furious with them for being idiots.” Sighing, she leaned up against the window and her face smudged the glass.

“I can’t tell if we were successful,” Bombay said, her words little more than a breathy whisper. “The Bard is gone. All this happened.” She gestured out the window with her paw. “We found two dragons that we came looking for, but not those alicorns, and now we have to go home. Blackbird, did we fuck up?”

Blackbird’s response was almost too honest to bear. “I don’t know.”

“I need to know. I need to know if it was worth losing my Bard.”

“I’m pretty confused about it myself. I keep wondering, what the fuck am I doing here? How did I get involved in this mess and why am I not looking for my mother? I watched the sun come up this morning and I was just so confused. Am I a hero for a nation or a terrible daughter? I have questions… no answers. All this doubt is getting to me.”

“I’m sorry, Blackbird. It’s been hard on us all.”

“Bombay, I’m scared for Dim and a little worried. The Bard’s death… and… and being around those peasants, I think it did something to him. He’s changed. Maybe it’s for the better, but he’s got this intensity—”

“He’s pretty intense already. Like Eerie. Maybe worse. Scary. I wouldn’t want the two of them to be mad together. I’d rather be on the next continent over if that happened.”

With a gulp, Blackbird finished off her orange juice and then scowled. “I wanted Dim to care about things. To be a good pony. Or if not a good pony, at least a decent pony. But now that he cares about things, which is what I wanted, he’s even worse. He’s even more intense. I mean… the bandit fort. And everything. Caring has made Dim even more dangerous and I’m not sure I can handle that. I feel like I did something bad to the world.”

After a moment of silence, Bombay shrugged. “I see that as a good thing. The world needs creatures like Eerie and Dim. Otherwise, nothing would get done. The whole of the world would become slaves and masters. Those that sit back and do nothing, sooner or later, they become slaves. You run out of allies, one by one. You talk yourself to death and what does diplomacy do? Not a damn thing. No amount of diplomacy would make Truffe come around and play nice with Chanson. Dim did the world a favour.”

“But who does Dim a favour?” Blackbird sat her glass down upon the floor and flexed her talons. Vision blurring, she tried to blink away the sting of tears. All of this had a profound impact upon her, so what was it doing to Dim? What was the state of his soul? She desperately wanted him to be a better pony, but would her efforts to make him better only make him worse? What dreadful acts might he do out of some misguided desire to do right?

She thought of her father, Stinkberry. He said the word good was far too ambiguous. Starling, it was said, could blow the head off of somebody from well over several hundred yards away; she was a good shot—but being a good shot offered no assurances of being a good creature. Yes, good was far too ambiguous a term.

Just as she was about to say something along the lines of, “Dim is good at starting fires, but that doesn’t make him a good pony,” a breathless, panting guard crashed through the door, almost tearing it from its hinges.

“Dragon!” She practically barked out the words. “Big one! Big dragon! All mates on deck! Bring every gun to bear! To battlements! Now!”

Author's Notes:

A lore heavy chapter. It pulls many pieces together.