Dim Dark was a pony that hated goodbyes, and as such, he avoided them. He had tried to slink away unnoticed, but Eerie had ambushed him. After yet another struggle—as much as their weak, frail bodies would allow—Dim had found himself yet again the victim of her snuggles. Though he would never breathe a word of admission about it, not even under torture, there was a certain pleasantness that came with wholesome family affection.

The cabin was small—even by pony standards—which meant that Blackbird would find it cramped. There was a bed, a cubby hole of a bed that one had to climb into and there was a thick, insulated curtain that could be closed to help retain body heat. He and Blackbird would have to share this bed somehow. Just thinking of it put a snide grin on Dim’s face that made his muzzle ache. Below the bed there was a storage locker and that was it for storage. The floor was about a yard wide, and there was a padded bench built into the wall at the far end of the room opposite the door. A small folding table came down from the wall where the bench was, and Dim was pleased; it would be useful for study.

At about three yards in length and a yard wide, the room was beyond cramped. While the bed was narrow, it was long by pony standards, though Dim wasn’t sure how comfortable a minotaur would be. Curling up would be necessary. There was no window and the room was absolutely bare. It wasn’t the worst room that Dim had stayed in.

Opening the storage locker, Dim began to stow his gear, and being the nice, considerate pony that he was, he left some room for Blackbird. Some of his possessions he would stow beneath the bench, just to make sure that Blackbird’s many firearms had a safe, secure place to be put away. Watching her disarm and divest herself of weapons was a source of amusement for Dim, because it could take awhile.

“This is your captain speaking…” The tinny speaker hidden inside of the light fixture overhead crackled a bit and there was an ear-piercing bit of feedback. “Some of you are new here, so let’s talk about the rules. My ship, my rules. This is not your standard airship. We fly above the skies where the air is almost nonexistent. It’s really fucking cold up there and while the ship’s life support systems and batteries keep the temperature above freezing, it is advised that you bunk up with somebody.”

Something about Jolie’s voice was endearing—cute, even, and Dim had a lovely mental image of the little mare shoveling cake into her mouth.

“If you do bunk up with somebody, there’s bound to be fucking, and as your captain I would be remiss if I did not bring up the following topic: cum inside, damn you! The stink! It’s abominable! It travels through the air re-circulators and the entire alicorn-damn ship smells like swamp-ass and mushroom soup! I don’t wanna smell that, and trust me, neither do you. So no fucking cumshots on the face, or on the bed, or anywhere really. Swallow that shit, you fucking perverts! Fire it right up the poop-chute! I don’t care what you do, but I don’t want my ship stinking!”

The corners of his mouth twitched, and Dim found it hard not to laugh.

“When at higher altitudes, there will be no access to the deck, because there’s no fucking air. The doors will be sealed and locked to maintain pressure. Sorry, but you are going to be stuck inside for most of this trip. Once we head out, we’re going up and staying up for as long as we can. The dining area seats eight so we’ll be eating in shifts. No food in the common area, because you fucking assholes are pigs, and I don’t want my ship smelly!”

Jolie’s message ended with a squeal of feedback, or he thought it did, but there was a final, parting message: "This is your captain speaking... we're all going down... we're all going down on each other." Then, silence.

When the ship lurched, Dim was ill-prepared for it and almost tumbled over. This thing was fast and he could feel the rush of acceleration as it picked up speed. Nothing he’d been on had ever moved this fast. Bracing himself, he made his way over to the padded bench, sat down, and folded down the desk. Blackbird was off making friends, no doubt, either that or she had failed to board. He wasn’t sure because he had teleported aboard to avoid the crowd.

Since he had some quiet, he intended to make the most of it and study. He stowed some of his gear beneath the bench, and pulled out several books, some of which he had ‘borrowed’ from Eerie’s library with the plans to return them when he was done. One book was on the alchemical properties of iron and its many possible infusions, one book was about salt, and one book was his own private journal.

An eyeblink left the world with a pink cast and Dim was more relieved than anything when he noticed the pinkish hue in his vision. No strange thoughts stirred in his head, not yet, but there was a profound sense of peace. Princess Cadance was a welcome addition in his mind and no part of him rejected her or resented her intrusion. As such, Dim knew that this made the connection stronger.

Then, he heard a voice between his ears say, Dim, I’m sorry.

To which he replied, “Sorry? Sorry for what?” Just as he was about to ask a third question, the profound peaceful sensation overcame him, and Dim felt just like a sleepy foal at bedtime. His body was warm, comfortable, nothing hurt, and he noticed that his horn was glowing pink, but it wasn’t his pale pink magical aura. This was far too bright, obscenely bright, no self-respecting Dark would ever illuminate their horns with this horrendous hue.

I’ll just be a moment, Dim, I promise, and no harm will come to you.

Blinking, Dim tried to get his eyes to focus, but it was difficult. His head hurt just a little, but nothing too bad. It felt like magical fatigue and wasn’t too bothersome. There was a funny taste in his mouth, almost like roses and copper, and he needed a drink. When some of the fuzz left his vision, he saw his journal and upon one of the pages was a message written in a script not his own. No ink, the words were burned into the fine parchment pages, and he could sense magic in the words, but not his magic.

The pink cast in his vision was gone and he could sense nothing in his head. Poor Cadance must have burned herself out reaching across the world like this. Dim was impressed by this feat of magic and he continued blinking to clear his vision so that he might read what had been written.

Dim,

I am so sorry! I didn’t think I’d be able to do this at all, but I surprised myself.

Here is something that I hope helps you. While I do a science-related job, I am not the most scientific of ponies, so apologies if some of what I say doesn’t make sense. You’re smart, so you’ll sort it out. You’ve been studying salt and iron, their magical affinities, and their crystalline properties. I’ve been communing with the crystals of my empire and they’ve imparted some of their knowledge. My understanding of crystalline-based control magic is pretty good, I can shape and align crystals in a variety of ways, but I have trouble understanding it.

For the purpose of purifying and concentrating magic, crystals must be compressed and the crystalline lattices must be aligned in just the right way. I don’t fully know or understand these ways, and so you’ll have to figure that out. But I do know that you have to shrink the crystal to gain more focus from the lattice-structure. The denser you can make it, the better. Salt will gain immense purification abilities if you can make compressed salt structures.

Once you have sufficiently compressed crystalline structures, you can focus streams of thaumatons through them, which changes the nature of the thaumatons in some weird way, but I can’t say how. It acts like a filter of some sort, and I am positive that you can make sense of what is a mystery to me. Iron behaves in a similar way, but I understand it even less.

Celestia said that if you compress iron in a certain way and achieve a certain density, it becomes magic-disruptive and cancels thaumaton fields. She doesn’t understand the workings of it, but she says it probably has to do with the lattice alignment and the direction that the crystals fit together. I’m not certain what she means by that. She said that you would figure it out though. Also, if you align iron another way, it becomes a hyper-conductor of thaumatons and allows for super-excited particles. This adds volatility and some instability, but also allows you to condense a great deal of magic into one teeny, tiny area. Try taking that concentrated magic and pushing it through condensed salt crystals!

Good luck,

Don’t blow yourself up,

Hugs and friendly kisses,

Pink.

Reaching up, Dim rubbed his temple with his hoof while staring at the words on the page. Clever Cadance. These were more than just words, but a whole series of spells, all of which burned and tickled his brain while he read through her loopy, scrawling script. It would take time, concentration, and meditation to understand what she had left behind, but this really was one of the most clever uses of magic he had ever seen. It was such simple magic, used in such a complex, advanced way—very much like his own style of magic and how he did things.

A message within a message. Spells embedded in a letter. It was practically something a foal could do, yet Dim had not seen anything quite like it. In general, the Darks held a deep disdain for simple magics, and overlooked them. And yet, in simplicity, Cadance, and he himself, had found a certain level of perfection. Not only had Cadance used his horn to cast her magic, but she had written the words of a spell and a written message at the same time, using his horn as a transmitter.

And while what she had to say was somewhat confusing—he had trouble comprehending it—the spells included with it, spells that were quite literally whole thoughts, concepts, the ways, the means, and the hows, he could gain understanding. To so cleverly include thoughts with simple words… Dim almost gushed over the brilliance of it.

Blackbird was his best friend, but in Cadance, Dim saw a kindred spirit. If this letter was any reflection of Cadance’s true nature, then Dim had found another pony much like himself, one that prefered simplicity and practicality over the complex and unwieldy. The letter had won him over and left him with a lingering sense of affection. He longed to talk to Cadance about these ideas in pony, face to face in some wonderful animated discussion, but that was not possible.

For now.

Dim resolved to figure out as much as he could, and when he did return home, if he returned home, he would share what he had learned with Cadance. She would appreciate it, no doubt, and maybe, perhaps, he might also gain knowledge from the exchange. Dim’s own paranoid and pessimistic nature crept in, and his thoughts told him that the other alicorns might be dismissive of Cadance’s magical talents, because alicorns were powerful beings—but there was overlooked power in simplicity. Where others of Cadance’s kind might dismiss her abilities, he held deep appreciation.

With a sudden scowl, Dim realised that he was gushing, which caused him to pause, shake his head, and let out a disgusted groan. It was gross and sickening what he was doing—but that didn’t change the fact that Cadance showed brilliant simplicity. Now sneering, Dim began to read again, slowly this time, allowing his eyes to linger on each letter, because each letter was a spell, a thought, a concept. She had buried entire volumes in just his name alone. Lost in concentration, he began to study.

What Dim failed to realise was that, with but one simple act, the Princess of Love had enraptured him, enthralled him with adoration.

Author's Notes:

And now we truly begin the Fancy Arc.