//------------------------------//
// The Beginning of the End 
// Story: Forever a Dreamer 
// by ShadowContrast 
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Shadow had spent so much time writing in the past few days that she had neglected almost everything else. When she settled down to share the next part of her story she was looking incredibly dishevelled but feeling happier than she had in a very long time- it was like nothing she had ever felt before. Everything felt so clear- like she was seeing what she was talking about from a completely new angle. It was as though the story that she had become so familiar with since her birth was being played out for her like a theatre production; the story hadn’t changed, but the angle was fresh and unexplored. It was invigorating, as though all she needed to do was write and then the planets would re align to suit her. So write she did. She was unstoppable. 

As her story progressed, the audience dwindled.  A most confusing state of affairs it would have been, had her audience been made up of normal ponies interested in the work of the budding author instead of figments of her lonely imagination. As she was writing she felt the need to compensate for her lack of social interaction was dwindling, and she allowed herself to briefly consider whether or not she needed her elaborate but beautiful fantasy. But somepony needed to hear her speak, and it wasn’t as though there was an excessive amount of ponies in these parts. Celestia has made sure of that.

With a small cough to clear her throat (but mainly to look like she meant business), Shadow addressed her fantasy audience of three eager ponies...

“Weeks turned to months, and the bond between the two ponies strengthened. They were spending as much time as possible together, so people were starting to talk, but they didn’t care. Other people seemed insignificant and daily chores like washing and sleeping were just pointless tasks whose only purpose was to decrease the precious time that the two would spend together- or that was how it seemed.

“Neither pony could eat when they were apart, as their longing for each other quelled their appetite for food. They couldn’t eat when they were together because the butterflies fluttering in their stomachs made it impossible for their food to digest. They could talk, and they would listen, and they would be silent, and often the silences said more than the words they were too few to describe the emotions in their hearts.

“Such was their love that they were entirely consumed by it. The most powerful infatuation matched by nothing that the two ponies had ever felt in their lives. The friendships that they once had lost their charm- they fizzled out and died like the embers of a fire, insignificant when compared to the roaring inferno that ignited their hearts whenever their eyes met,

“When they were not together, they worried. What exactly was it that was going on between them? Should they let it happen? Was it normal? And of course, did they both feel the same way? But when they were together, all of their worries evaporated. They looked into each other’s eyes and saw into their soul. They reached for each other’s hooves, and touched their hearts.

“Their love was magical, all-powerful, and new. It was where they belonged.

“It was only a matter of time until the wedding bells rang out over Canterlot, and when they did, everypony was happy that the most gentle, caring, and kind mare, who once thought that true love was a myth, would have a fairytale wedding fit for a princess.

“Months turned to years and their love continued to blossom. They bought a small house together, close to the centre of town, and celebrated with friends and family, that were now closer to the couple than ever before. Chelsea’s life-long wish became a reality, with a little help from her friends, and she bought a small shop in the town that she converted into the boutique of her dreams. In fact, the boutique was so successful that she bought the shop next door to it and employed a couple of eager apprentices.

“With their new-found success, and their love stronger than ever, they were blessed with a beautiful filly, pure white in colour, save for the pink and grey streaks in her hair- the colour of her parents. She was a perfect symbol of their union and commitment.

“However all was not well, for although she was an angel- a pure white unicorn- she had the wings of a demon, harsh, spiked and torn, with not a feather attached to their leathery frame.”