“Tell me, Dim… what do you remember?”

Blackbird turned her head away from Chromium so that she might look at Dim. The question caused Dim to look up from his steaming hot cup of tea and she noticed a faint tremble in his body—evidence that he was holding back a cough. The parlour was barely a parlour, it was so stark, so devoid of stuff and things, but it was comfortable. Cosy even, in its own way.

“Very little,” Dim replied with a slight shake of his head. “As with all dreams, recollection is hazy at best. I am aware that something happened, but I cannot recall what took place.”

Again, her head turned, this time to face the silver unicorn sitting in a sturdy wooden chair. Chromium frowned, or maybe scowled, but it was not a unicorn’s expression. It was more akin to the sort of look one might make when creating a parody of a unicorn, or performing a really bad impression of what they thought an upset unicorn should look like. Blackbird thought of everything said by the dragon, but was too emotionally exhausted to feel much of anything. With her head turned, she heard Dim slurp his tea, and this was followed by a soft, raspy sigh.

“Would you like to remember?”

Every muscle in Blackbird’s body tensed as she once more turned her head.

He did not respond right away, but sat sipping his tea. Blackbird’s sharp eyes focused on the rim of the teacup, searching for traces of blood, but it was a bad angle to spot such things. With Dim’s hemophilia, the bleeding might take a while to stop—if it did at all. She wanted nothing more than to take whomever had done this and rip them to shreds. Blackbird had the name, but what she lacked was the means to reach him. It. Whatever Contagion was.

“That’s a dangerous question,” said Dim in response, his words like two pieces of parchment rubbing together. A kind of crinkly, crackly sound that was somehow both dry and wet at the same time.

Something about the sound make Blackbird think of autumn leaves in the wind.

“You are an unexpectedly dangerous pony.”

Dry, raspy laughter could be heard from Dim, and Blackbird was shocked by the sound. To be fair, it was a rare sound, something not often heard from Dim. It was not sardonic laughter with a ring of sarcasm, nor was it haughty aristocratic laughter that she found strangely appealing. This was just Dim laughing—and perhaps enjoying himself.

For the first time in a while, Blackbird found herself relaxing somewhat.

“I mean no jest,” Chromium continued, sitting rigid in his wooden chair. “You faced off with two godlings… beings of exceptional power. You came away weaker from one, but stronger from another. By the way, Princess Luna told me to tell you that she acknowledges your supremacy.”

“What does that mean, anyhow?”

Chromium shrugged.

Holding his tea aloft, Dim lifted a crusty slice of day old bread and munched it. Blackbird found the way he ate attractive for reasons utterly unknown to her. Perhaps it was the exquisite movement of his thin lips. The way his nostrils flared just before he took a bite. Dim showed so little enthusiasm for anything, but magic, along with food, one might get lucky and witness his aristocratic ardor.

“I would like to remember,” said Dim around a small mouthful of bread.

“This is a tearing of the veil.” A look of concern was now plainly visible on Chromium’s face, and there was nothing alien about it. “Remembering dreams in total clarity is the first step to becoming like us. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Blackbird, confused and lost, heard Dim say, “I do. But now, I have to ask, why help me become like you? We don’t see eye to eye, you and I.”

“We share a common enemy…” Chromium’s words trailed off, but the dragon wearing a unicorn disguise recovered. “You did something that I respect, even if I don’t agree with it. Or understand it.”

“That is not a good reason.” Dim sipped his tea, nipped off another bite of bread, and then studied Chromium while chewing.

“You deserve to remember—”

“Again, not a good reason.”

“Do you wish to remember or not?” Chromium asked, impatient.

“I would.” Dim swallowed. “But I am trying to understand why.”

“I find myself in the same position. Asking why. You are a selfish, self-serving prick. You’ve left a wake of chaos and devastation behind you. First, the Grittish Isles, and now Fancy—”

“Don’t forget Tortoise-Tuga,” Blackbird said, helpful as always.

“Indeed.” Chromium’s silver eyebrows furrowed together in an odd, uncanny way. “Burned right down to the sand. But that… that is no big loss.” A pause, long in nature, as the dragon collected his thoughts, followed up with, “You saved Princess Cadance.”

“Princess Cadance saved me first.”

The furrowing of Chromium’s brows intensified.

“Is it so hard to understand that I pay my debts?” Dim’s words almost seemed mocking now, his customary antagonistic manner had returned. “Princess Cadance has saved me many times over. Again and again. Repeatedly.” His eyes darted in Blackbird’s direction for a moment, but eye-contact was quickly returned with Chromium. “Princess Cadance has been with me for every step of my recovery. I’ve… reclaimed myself. I have her”—lifting a hoof, he pointed at Blackbird—“and the others. Even if I’ve lost a few along the way. I understand that I’m not allowed to keep them.”

“Which brings me to another subject I wanted brought to your attention.” Reaching up, Chromium began to absentmindedly rub his throat. “It is good that you are loyal to Princess Cadance. She is young… foolish. Still trying to prove herself.”

“If necessary, for her sake, I will ignite the sky, set the seas to boil, and turn whole mountains into molten oceans of fire.” Dim’s eyes narrowed and for a few seconds, he visibly struggled to draw breath. “I pay my debts.” These words were raspy, soupy, and rather liquidy in sound. “Even to you, Chromium. Even to you.”

“This is about debts? About what you feel is owed?” Even as a unicorn, Chromium seemed incredulous.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Dim drew in a shuddering breath, and then gulped down some tea. “It’s all a system of what is owed and who owes what. Grogar and the others, they’ve taken from me. My mother, she’s taken from me. Blackbird? I owe her. Princess Cadance? I have outstanding debts. Chantico, whom I serve, I owe her much.”

“So this comes down to accountancy. Keeping the books. You’re just… you’re just a—”

“Mercenary?” said Blackbird, doing her best to be helpful.

Chromium threw his hooves up into the air and let out an exasperated huff.

“Say, Dim”—Blackbird fought back the urge to smile as she spoke—“I brought you that nice cup of tea and some bread. What’ll that get me?”

“My continued loyalty and maybe a few dramatic, theatrical moments where quite a number of those deserving end up dead in horrific, artistic ways. Probably something involving fire.” Then, without further ado, Dim tore off another small bite of crusty bread and began chewing.

“So let me get this straight… the fate of many… the fate of the world potentially rests upon you keeping Dim indebted to you?” Chromium’s hooves lowered and his eyes, his confused, frightened eyes, attempted into peer into Blackbird’s very soul.

Raising her right talons, Blackbird said, “I do so solemnly swear to use my kitty-slitty for the sake of good. Don’t you worry, I won’t let this power go to my head.”

Chromium closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then another, and then a third. After the third, he opened his eyes, glanced at Dim, then stared at Blackbird, all while rubbing his throat with one hoof. Whatever expressions his face made were unreadable, mostly because of just how fast his expressions changed, rapidly going from one to the next.

“Is this a game?” he asked. “Is this all just an elaborate ruse? A bit of jest?” Chromium’s expression settled on something that almost appeared perplexed, though perhaps a bit weird in some vague, undefinable way.

“Dim straight up assassinated somepony in exchange for dinner.” Blackbird leaned forwards. “The guy was an asshole, so I’m okay with that. I think all of us are okay with that. Us being our little group. We let the nice ones live, but the naughty ones? They die in such a way that the nice ones get a reminder to keep being nice.”

The sigh that Chromium heaved sounded rather defeated.

“There was something else that you felt I should know?” To Blackbird’s ears, it sounded as though Dim struggled to make the words happen. How was he holding back the urge to cough? Force of will? His indomitable self-control? In silence, she began to worry.

“Yes. But first, drink a bit more tea. You sound awful.” After a pause, the silver unicorn added, “There’s a lot for you to remember.”

The medicinal tea was bitter, yet soothing as it trickled down Dim’s parched throat. He thought of Bombay, he couldn’t help it, she stayed in his mind and would not go away. Already, she was missed. There were other thoughts, other things that flitted through his mind, like the dream he had. He would remember soon enough, but had no small amount of hesitation about total recall.

Blackbird was antsy and the big black hippogriff would not sit still. Something about her had changed; now she gave off a distinct magical hum that his magic sense could not ignore. It was intriguing, and made more so by the fact that it mirrored his own distinct signature. Surely Chromium sensed this as well, and Dim wondered what Chromium might have to say.

“Princess Luna had much to say when we conversed in the astral realm, after the battle.” Chromium shifted in his stark, plain wooden chair, and something about his demeanour suggested discomfort—though physical or mental, it was impossible to discern. “It is about Darling…”

Dim almost choked on his tea. A dreadful, whooping cough caused his small, slight frame to shudder, and with each barking hack, he saw stars go streaming through his vision. It took all of his willpower to force the cough to cease its assault upon his body, and he sat in his chair, his barrel heaving as he took slow, deliberate breaths.

“Princess Luna doesn’t know what it is,” said Chromium after Dim had recovered a bit. “Princess Cadance isn’t the only one who can channel herself through your horn. When you see or hear Darling, the magic is coming from you. Princess Luna believes it to be some kind of nightmare dream magic woven with necromancy. She also knows that it leaves you deeply troubled, unsettled. Even guilty.”

Without even thinking about it, Dim averted his gaze.

“These emotions… this… guilt… it leaves you vulnerable and more susceptible to malignant magics. Like those used to manipulate your dreams. Princess Luna can’t even tell if it is actually Darling or your memory of Darling that is tormenting you. It could be either. She suspected that it might be possible in some way to use necromancy to revive a memory as a form of dream-spirit. Animancy might also play a part. She can barely understand what it might be, and sadly, Princess Luna has no idea how to fight it. This magic is unknown. New. And worrisome to all. If it can be used on you… it can be used on others.”

“You said that Dim would be safer in his dreams,” Blackbird blurted out.

“I did.” Chromium nodded. “And I meant it. But just as Princess Cadance can project her will through Dim, so too can others. His waking hours can be tormented. Hallucinations and illusions can be forced upon him, channeled though his mind, and through his horn, which is directly connected to his mind. It is the inherent weakness of being a unicorn.”

Sipping his tea, Dim savoured the bitter liquid whilst he thought about what was said.

“None of you are safe around Dim. This… malevolence that hangs over him like a cloud, manipulating his mood and influencing him, Princess Luna suspects that it will have subtle effects upon all of you as well. Especially those of you with troubled minds.”

Upon hearing this, Dim closed his eyes and tried not to think of the obvious.

“She doesn’t know how powerful it is, or what it is capable of. But if Dim can see and hear Darling, then it stands to reason that your senses can also be manipulated. Toyed with. Be mindful of what you see and hear, Blackbird. The ears and the eyes are gateways to the mind. Leave them unguarded at your own peril.”

“Can nothing be done?” Blackbird’s worried voice reached Dim’s ears, though he could not see her reactions.

“The best one to help Dim is probably Eerie,” Chromium replied. “She has much knowledge of influence, being a master illusionist, as well as her psychic gifts. If anybody can teach Dim how to ward his mind, it will be her. She blocked Princess Cadance, so it seems reasonable to assume that she can block out other influences as well. And perhaps teach Dim how to create a fortress of mental will.”

“Bombay”—Blackbird’s voice cracked and Dim opened his eyes so that he might see her—“did she… was she… I mean…” After her words trailed off, she gave Chromium a pleading stare.

“There is no way of knowing.” The silver unicorn now wore a recognisable expression of sadness on his face, and his ears drooped in a familiar way. “It is best not to torment yourself over this. There is no way of knowing after the fact. If you dwell on this, it will only create further weakness.”

Dim felt his guts contort. He knew that he would dwell on this. How could he not? Already, the emotional agony was settling in and making itself at home. There would be no way to ease his mind, no way to ever know for certain, no means to ever get blissful reassurance. Bombay was dead. Gone. Out of reach. Would she too, haunt his waking hours? Would he hear her voice? His blood ran cold when he thought of the horrifying possibilities.

What if she accused him of murder?

Author's Notes:

Soon, all of this will be wrapped up, and we'll be leaving Fancy.