At first, walking blind was scary, but it wasn't long before I gained enough confidence to keep the mask on for extended periods. Walking on soft carpet was easy, once I got past my fear of bumping into furniture. As long as I kept the cloth over my eyes bright, I had to be going the right way, and I knew roughly how far away any obstacles would become visible.
Every so often, I stopped to pull my mask up and look around. It took what felt like hours before my bed disappeared completely into the darkness behind me. It had shrunk to a barely-visible bump, amazing me that I could still see it. Once I couldn't, though, part of me wanted to panic and gallop back to it. Being alone in a sea of carpet with nothing of note in any direction was unnerving to say the least.
With nothing in view, it felt strangely claustrophobic. But instead of being unable to move, there was the illusion that moving just didn't matter. Too much empty space without things to actually walk to. Surrounded by walls of distance that constrained me just about as effectively as wooden boards or cob.
The thing that helped the most in keeping me going forward was having a forward to go to. My window just had to be out there.
My only companions now were my mask, the sunlight, and the soft sound of my hooves on carpet. Sometimes I hummed, several times I sang, and often I walked in silent thought, wondering how my sister and my friends were doing. And Opalescence. Hopefully, somepony had fed her by now in my absence.
The thought of food brought a strange realization. Despite walking briskly for what must have been several hours, I didn't feel hungry. While I was no stranger to skipping breakfast for work, I expected to at least crave something. Two pieces of toast, one with apple jam and one with a thin slice of chocolate melted onto it, sounded divine, but only for its familiarity. My tummy wasn't rumbling in the slightest.
I stopped to pull my mask up and look around.
Still nothing.
So, maybe this magic place made food unnecessary. Maybe time itself was suspended. After all, if the sunlight was coming from my window, surely the sun would have moved up by now? But the beam was still in the same place.
Well, if that was the case, then Opal would be fine. And maybe by the time I escaped, nopony would even have noticed I was gone?
This was a worrying thought in its own way, however, as it also meant my friends couldn't save me if they were frozen outside of a time bubble or whatever.
I had long given up on Discord being the cause. Well, intentionally, anyway. During my walk, I had called out his name, even threatening him by saying Fluttershy would not be happy if he kept it up. And if he was listening, he surely would have done something then.
The Tantabus was near the top of my list of suspects now, since this all seemed like it could easily be some kind of nightmare crossed with reality. And time in dreams did get rather distorted.
As my wandering thoughts dwindled and I found myself lacking a distraction, I began counting my steps. I frequently lost count, and started over multiple times, but it kept me focused more on walking and less on the eerie silence and vast unseen space around me.
More hours passed, and I filled the time by recalling fond memories of my friends. Saving Equestria, helping them, them helping me, mistakes we made and learned from, and more adventure than a Daring Do novel. Well, on occasion, there were literal Daring Do adventures, too.
Walking as I was, wearing a blindfold that ironically helped me see, I felt like Somnambula, holding onto a kind of hope that my mask made visible to me. I developed a new appreciation for her and her element of hope. Following a beam of light was much like crossing a narrow bridge, just without the dangerous pit of bubbling ooze on either side. I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I let my imagination get the best of me and pretended to be crossing the bridge from her story, only to lose my balance and step off the path to catch myself.
Whoops! Into the ooze! I thought.
With a giggle, I lifted up the blindfold to look around.
I squinted at what I saw, or at least what I thought I saw. Ahead of me, the horizon and sky had the very faintest purple tinge. I wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light being in my eyes for so long or what, but looking back revealed the usual blackness. The difference was too faint to be sure of, however, even to my discerning eye.
I decided to take it as a good sign and put my mask back down, pressing onward.
Less patient now, I stopped to look more frequently, and sure enough, the faint purple slowly began to dominate the horizon in front of me as it grew more visible. I didn't know what exactly it was, but anything new was welcome at this point.
It wasn't long before I could see a dot of brightness on the horizon, directly in front of me. I picked up my pace, cantering confidently toward the light that was surely coming from that point. It had to be my window. I still wore the blindfold just in case, as I really did not want to lose my sunbeam, but regular looks saw the dot getting bigger and the purple getting purpler.
Before reaching my window, a realization hit me. The purple that was covering so much of the sky was my bedroom wall! It was the right shade of purple, just darkened by distance. Of course. If my window was there, then it had to be in my wall. I laughed and finally continued with my face uncovered, galloping.
The dot grew, and I slowed to a swift trot as I got a little winded, but I could finally make out my curtains, a dark purple that reminded me of amethyst. Then, I could see the shape of my window. It was a tall oval that would light my real room perfectly while matching the theme of the boutique itself from the outside.
It sure looked out of place with my wall stretching infinitely upwards into blackness. Normally, it was framed by decorated pillars that made arches around it and other features in my room, but those were nowhere to be seen.
And then I actually reached it, running a hoof across its white-painted wooden grille as I gazed out. The sun outside was just above the horizon, and the trees were such a refreshing sight to see. But they seemed… off somehow.
Well, it was no matter. I unlocked the latch with my magic and swung the window inward.
The sight confused me, and my heart dropped.
It was just the wall.
"What?" I said. "No, no, no. This can't be right." I touched it with a hoof, only to find the wall as solid as it looked.
I closed the window, and through the glass, there was still a view of the outside. Ponyville. Streets and sun and sky and clouds and houses and shops and… trees.
Trees that weren't moving.
Sure, not every day could be a windy one, but the one closest to me was almost close enough to jump to. Its leaves were as still as a rock. I watched them intently, concentrating, daring them to move, waiting for the slightest shimmer of a leaf swaying. But, there was nothing. Still as a photograph.
I tried opening the window again, only to be met with the wall once more. Desperate, I closed it and pressed my face to the glass.
"Help! Somepony help me!" I cried, banging on it. "Twilight! Starlight! Discord! Anypony!"
The glass was fogged up, and I sank to the floor, panting and wanting to cry.
Before letting my emotions get the best of me, however, I huffed and stood back up. I had found a clue with my bed. Maybe there was something here, too. My eyes scanned the outside, checking every inch that I could see from the window.
I did eventually notice something. It was difficult to spot, but the very same tree I had been watching for movement had a squirrel among its upper branches, hiding between the leaves. It was, of course, still as a statue.
I sighed.
It all looked so real. And for all I knew, it was. The time bubble theory seemed much more likely. And if that was the case, I'd have to find my own way out.
But first, more experimenting.
First, I took down the curtains, rod and all. I winced as I hefted the metal rod in my magic and thrust one end of it into the bottom middle glass pane, shattering it. What it revealed was exactly what I feared. The wall was clearly visible where the pane had been, and the bits of glass still stuck inside had lost their magic window-to-the-outside properties. Now it was nothing but a hazard and a disappointment.
Gritting my teeth, I took a deep, calming breath. My window seemed to be in the same direction from my bed as it was in my real bedroom, just with a much longer walk between them. That meant that if I went directly away from the window, I'd eventually end up by my door.
No, no, no. That was a terrible idea. At least when I came to the window, I had help. Without a way to be sure of my direction, I could end up walking in circles out there and not even know it.
It would definitely be better to follow one wall around.
My legs were aching, though, so, first thing was first: a nap.