Fluttershy cried. She laid down on the bed, and pulled one side of the covers up over her. And she cried. And cried some more. She let sleep take her, and drifted away.
In her dream she was back in Ponyville. No, not Ponyville- she didn't know these people. They were all human, and they took no notice of her presence. She looked down at herself- and realized that her body wasn't there. She was like a ghost, floating in the ether of time and space. Suddenly she was on top of a building, looking down into a mineshaft, cut into an adjacent cliff. A mass of white flew out, forming a shadow over the village. She realized they were birds, and looked up in astonishment. She'd never seen so many birds, flying so fast. The townspeople turned to watch, awed.
And then she heard the horn. A low, long boom, accompanied by the frenzied beat of drums. The goblins poured out of the cave, steel flashing in the sunlight. They broke into homes, stole food, and- killed. She tried to shut her eyes, but couldn't. She was forced to watch as they burned the town, and murdered men, women, and children like it was nothing. And then, as quick as they came, they were gone, moving west. The smell of blood and smoke, iron and fear, lay in the air, sickening. But the house she stood upon remained unscathed, the house on top of the hill. She realized then that it was Dylan's house, or rather, his father's. A man emerged. He looked like Dylan, but much older, with a short beard, and brown eyes that stared into nothing, broken. He carried a woman in his arms, limp and without life. He let out a scream of anguish, the pure sound of hatred and vengeance, and laid the body down on the grass. A boy, who she assumed was Dylan, stepped out of the house, carrying a shovel. He handed it to the man, who began to dig. He dug a hole, and set the body inside. He covered the body with dirt, then turned to his son, who had been watching the whole time, tears streaming down his face. His father said something to him, too quiet to make out, and then walked away, following the goblin's path of destruction, leaving his twelve year old son holding a dagger in one hand, and a tattered paper in the other, covered in writing. Then time passed, as it often does in dreams- without a warning.
Suddenly the boy was older, the Dylan she knew now, standing proud beside her. He said something, and motioned for her to look. She turned, and couldn't believe her eyes. Another village stood in the old one's place, full of life. Children frolicked in the streets, people strolled along, smiles on their faces. It was an amazing sight, the town, and she instantly felt as protective of this town as a mother hen did of her chicks. It was her town. It needed to be protected. she needed to protect it. And then she knew. She knew what she would tell Dylan when he returned. She sat up, awake and alert- and ready. The door opened, followed by Dylan's now calm voice.
"Well? Have you decided?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"So...staying or leaving?" He asked, hope in his voice.
"I'll stay. And plus, I have no idea how to get back home anyway, so I might as well..."
Her voice drifted off. Then Dylan's excited cheer split the air.
"Yay!"