The little circle of radiant light continued to shine and shimmer, little motes of incandescent luminescence trailing up from the ground and twirling around the battered forms rushing in and out of it, basking in it's comforting glow before passing on to darker eventualities.
Another circle, much like the first but larger, more yellow, and with a spire sticking from the center, did much the same, except faster and hotter, less intimate and infinitely more functional. The minds who devised such a simple yet effective implementation of raw energy were lost in the growing crowd of those who discovered for themselves how to apply it. Understandably, this larger circle was proving itself to be more effective in the present situation.
Healing. Light to see with. Both good when you were pitted against innumerable foes who thrived in the dark. At least, that was the most logical thing running through Luna's mind as she was sucked into the form of the biped who had so forcefully established themself in the middle of an open cavern with no cover facing a horde of varying monstrous enemies in what would otherwise be pitch blackness. If she was supposed to be reliving this event, she was shocked to find herself unable to feel much of anything, which was a surprise. Normally when things like this happened, she would be momentarily hit with the sensation of feeling in a new body. Or rather, remembering what things had felt like at the time, emotions included. While she wouldn't experience them for herself, she'd understand the memory of the emotion. It was intrusive, and almost never intentional.
On the less rational side of her thoughts, she was, well...What is one supposed to feel or think when experiencing a slaughter from the body of the killer who seemed to only feel the recoil from the buzzing projectile weapon in their grip and a vague notion of pitying sadness?
It was all very loud. It would have been almost deafening if not for the helmet on her, er, their head. She had to remind herself that this was someone, and something, else entirely. The weapon- and by now Luna was certain it was a weapon, for it was being used to destroy so easily -was blaring and roaring constantly, its front end glowing from the continuous blasts. The weapons of some in the horde (or perhaps some were spells being cast? It was hard to tell) made distant booms over the screams and deathly cries from the approaching and receding horde that was circling the burning emplacement of light and flame.
This went on for some time.
Eventually, the horde was depleted and the weapon ceased to function. Her- er, its- er...The...Luna believed the proper term for the appendages she was looking at was "hands." She watched as the hands she felt shook and trembled. The body she was watching from within a dome of lightly glowing purple, and thus everything was tinted so. The joints, trembling and quivering, cracked loudly in the silence while they slowly closed into gloved fists, and for the first time since being sucked into this "dream", Luna felt an alien pain through her host. Tendons and sinews ached. The soreness set in. Muffled screams and wails came from beyond the stinging, shielding veil.
She felt a breath. Two. The hands opened again, and when they closed, they closed on twin daggers, shining in their own luminous darkness, pulsating like the dome that surrounded. And with a whisper, she was pulled from the body she had been experiencing this horror in and watched as it disappeared from the dome, only to light up the shuffling, skittering horde of screams.
And with that, the purple slowly pulled up into a faintly glowing white and the dark ambiance shifted to that of a booming, swirling storm.
A presence crouched by her seated form, and she felt the warmth of someone next to her face, though she couldn't see anyone in her peripherals. A moment passed.
"Was that all you saw?" The voice was soft, inquisitive, stallionesque, and definitively sorrowful.
She wasn't sure how to answer. Were there worse things lurking in that hellscape of a memory?! Possibly. She felt no reason to lie.
"Yes," she answered simply, waiting a moment or two before saying anything else. The growing uncomfortableness the two were feeling from the awkward closeness had grown fast. The presence had moved a little more to her left, as to not be so close to her.
She thought she heard him- for she was fairly certain he was a him - sigh, though it was quiet and likely reactionary. Possibly in relief?
"I'm glad. You wouldn't want to have seen anything else. That place holds nothing but nightmares and death." He laughed once, grim yet reminiscent. "Geez, I sound like Eris..."
"A memory of yours?" she asked him, turning her head to look at him while she did so. She hadn't noticed before, but the swirling dark had been gradually drawing upward, as if the stark whiteness of the ground was rising up like a curtain. This was only significant when she tried to get a good look at the stallion she was conversing with. His coat seemed to match the exact coloration of the rising lightness around the pair, while she herself remained her cool, nightly blues and blacks. The most prominent feature she was able to determine was that his eyes were a dusty brown. Every other detail was smoothed over by the omnipresent light source and his fur's matching color to the background. It was like seeing through him. She almost reached out to poke his chest.
"Regrettably, yes. I'm not used to being like this yet," he admitted, and she could hear his ears flick around. It was quiet. Seeing his mouth in contrast to not seeing most of his body was admittedly strange. Furthermore, his teeth weren't the typical white she was used to. if anything, they were a little yellowed, and his tongue a little greyish in the middle. Since she was staring at his face already, she figured she'd look up at his eyes again. Along the way, she noticed some serious bags beneath them, breaking his solidly pale visage and painting a more pained expression on his appearance.
The longer she stared, the more different he seemed to become. More little details began making themselves apparent. His long, fluffy, messy mane that hung wildly down the back of his head and crowned over down his face like a flood of snow. He'd flick it aside whenever it drooped over his eyes. His directly facial features were refined, if a little starved looking. Regal, yet deprived. Pinkie would have make a joke about him having a long face.
"What will you do here?" Luna asked, sitting herself up a little straighter and adopting a more formal tone. As curious as she was, she needed to gauge his character. All she knew now was that he was a softspoken murder machine. Perhaps that description was a bit harsh, but she really didn't have any other context to go off of. He didn't kill the guards in the castle though, so, he had that going for him.
"I didn't choose to come here, yet here I am. I suppose I'll be seeing more of you in the nearby future." Honest words, but he didn't directly answer.
"While that may be true, you didn't answer the question," Luna noted, tilting her head and raising a brow.
"Forgive me, I'm not used to talking this much. Usually I have far less to say and far more things trying to kill me. It's been a quite couple of years on my part." He seemed to shrug, bringing into focus the large cloak he had draped around his body. Only his two forehooves were poking out the front. It was like a giant blanket, really. A giant rectangular blanket, tattered and stained, with a hood. He was sitting on his haunches, no doubt why the cloak was wrapping around him so fully. "If I am to answer honestly," he continued, "then I'll say that I am unsure. I do not intend harm, and would honestly prefer some peace and quiet, but I cannot assure you of anything. If there's one thing I'm not, it's reliably predictable."
"The honesty is appreciated, if you are indeed speaking truthfully," Luna spoke with a nod, her eyes never blinking.
Silence reigned again. The two just stared at each other, him with a look of understanding and her with the eyes of a concerned leader and a confused heart.
"So..." she began again, "back in what I...experienced, what you lived through-"
"Died through, too," he muttered almost incomprehensibly.
"-might I ask...why?" Luna finished.
The Guardian sighed. He never thought he'd have to be the one explaining this story.