Project Horizons

I screamed—the first band in my mane buzzed, bolts of energy bouncing off of it as the enchantment activated, allowing me access to more magic. The caved walls and fallen ceilings were enveloped in my magic, but my eyes never left Glowheart's as I teleported the debris somewhere. I might've destroyed them by not having a specified destination, they might simply reappear in a billion years or two seconds, but I'd cross that gap when it became more important.

My body gave out, two of my legs were damaged beyond use. My magic screeched—or perhaps that was me—as it wrapped around my limbs and started to regrow them. I levitated myself into the air, my broken wings unable to do so, and poured my magic into Glowheart's body. First an electric shock. I saw her heart thump as I repeated a steady lightning spell, my magic reaching out and molding her back to the right shapes as best as I could manage.

Her eyes twitched, as did her head as she appeared to writhe in agony as I forced life into her corpse, telekinetic magic reached out like tendrils and wrapped around her limbs, holding her while I healed her. I peered into her chest, her heart was damaged. Without hesitation, I directed the healing magic into it. For one, beautiful moment, as the damage started to close up, I allowed a brief smile. "You'll be okay, don't worry." My words came out sounding mad, even to me, but I had the purest intentions in them I assure.

Splat

I reeled and screamed as her heart atomized into my face, the protective enchantment having engaged. My widened eyes burned and cried, tears and blood draining down my face. "Buck!" I yelled, the sudden and unexpected assault breaking my concentration enough for my body to fall and thunk on the floor, almost limp. My unharmed foreleg reached up and pulled the rest of my battered and bleeding body onto the crushed bed with her, my horn glowed as I cleared my eyes of blood, and my tears doubled their efforts to blind me as I saw her, staring with dead eyes at her slightly opened chest.

Healing magic poured and poured into her again, the second band on my mane fizzing and sparking as more magic flowed from the contained reservoir. "This isn't fair! Not again, I can't lose you again!" My voice bleated out in sobs as I wrapped bleeding and bloodied limbs around her, pulling myself to her. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. This wasn't how things were supposed to go.

But then, as though the first nail in her coffin, the magic refused to heal her anymore. Yet she still laid dead in my arms. I cursed the world and the unfairness of it, beating my bleeding half stump against the floor in defiance again life; defiance against death; in just plain defiance. But she wouldn't breath no matter how much magic I forced into her, no matter how much I tried to stimulate the nerves in her brain to at least be able to pull a memory extraction. I couldn't even feel her soul anymore, it had left her and fled to the void.

She was dead.

Recently—as in five minutes ago—I released the second to last chapter of a fic I'm writing. I was reading it, post release as a final check up so-to-speak, and the intro stuck out to me as important. Not as a plot point, which it is—giving use to that heart enchantment that's been held over Twilight's head for three chapters—but the ultimate goal I aim for when writing. The way it was written, the struggle and the words I chose when writing it had a certain flavor to them, that when reading it again I noticed.

It reminded me of Project Horizons. Which to me, is a grand self compliment. Project Horizons is the number one on my top ten things ever created in the history of history—with only a slight exaggeration on my part. And while I have a distinctly different writing style, the way the scene was portrayed in my head was starkly similar to Blackjack when one of her friends died, particularly Scoodle and/or Glory.

Let me know if anyone else saw the resemblance or if that was simply wishful thinking/authors bias.