Light Flow.
The cool air of the early night was doing a lot to air out his fur, and taking a moment to breathe a refreshing breath brought relief he hadn't know he needed. It tasted sweet on his tongue, as if there was honey on the breeze or something. It was nice.
Light Flow.
Opening his eyes to the deserted, darkened street where he stood felt almost dreamy, as the muted light shining from the sky cast his surroundings in dimmer sights. Standing there in the shadow of the large building he remembered as Town Hall, the buildings around him reaching up towards the quiet night with silent pleas to something unseen; it felt almost… sacred.
Light Flow.
Everything around him just perpetually rose up towards the heavens, didn't it? Grasping futilely at what lay above, forever tethered by the earth that bound them all. Hooded eyes followed their glittering trail, to see the most beautiful sight he had never known. It wasn't any wonder ponies built towards the sky, when such a great, shining, wonderful jewel hung there.
The moon. Big and pure and absolutely blemish free. Glowing so brightly up in the heavens, among the stars and nebulas; like the most perfectly well rounded circle there ever was.
Warmth welled in the corners of his eyes, and he had to bring a hoof up to his mouth to suppress a sob that shook desperately through his chest. Why did it make him so happy, just for seeing it?
Your devotion is noted, child; but that wasn't quite the sonnet you imagine it was.
The voice in his head was there again, doing more than just saying his name. Praising him. Calling him child, with such loving warmth behind it.
The voice was nice, he liked the voice.
Good, child. Now, you must continue to heed me.
The voice wanted him to do more things. That was fine, the voice was plenty trustworthy. Ever since it had come into his head and started whispering things to him, nothing but good things had happened.
It had helped figure out how to get the ever annoying Twilight to go away, it had helped when Pinkie Pie had come back with that shy pegasus, and when the orange apple pony- Applejack, the voice told him- had come back: the voice had helped him through that, too.
Feeding him constant tips and words to say, helping him through conversations in ways he never would have thought of; it was more than he could ever ask for. He would follow the voice's commands, because he knew it only wanted the best for him.
He could just feel it. Whenever the silky whispers twirled so softly in his ear, he felt the same way he did when he stared up at the beautiful, pale moon in that shining, starry canvas.
Safe. Warm. Loved. Wanted.
You are wanted, child. I have such plans for you. You're more important than you could possibly know, even in your current labored state.
A self conscious smile found a place on his face as his eyes fell unfortunately back to Equus, and he pawed at the ground with just a bit of nervous energy. It wasn't just about obeying the voice, he wanted to help it. The voice deserved his help, his loyalty.
The voice deserved devotion.
You are perfect, child. Proximity has lulled you into sense with more ease than I had ever hoYou will not listen to Her.
Pain...! Flashing behind his eyes and clouding his vision and screaming in his ears to come back come back don't listen don't listen
The sensation of dirt scraping into his knees was barely even felt as his hooves flew to grasp at his head-Your flimsy spellcrafting cannot stop me in my realm!-could feel his muscles loosen as he splayed over the cold ground, spasming and locking and hurting and-You will not listen to Her.
Yelling and screaming and brutal, horrible fighting in his head like something was clawing and begging while something else tore and peeled and it just hurt and he wanted it to stop!
You will not listen to H̸̪̊ę̶̣̖̰̅r̶̡̭̣̰̥͐̓̕ He is mine, and I won't have your little blocks dirtying what you have no right to.
You will not follow Ḥ̶̼̯̽̉͌͜͜ḙ̵͉͍̄͒̏͘͠r̶̭̦̱͋ ̴̠̐͘c̷͇̱̖̜̓͜ö̵̧̡͉̤̼́m̵̺̗͉̮̅̋̇m̴̡̥͓̝̾̑̀a̸̗͇̻͎̐́̍n̸̢̪̬͕͐ḍ̸͗̚͠s̷̱̻͉͠ͅ Oh, such horrible casting, sister. Nothing at all like Our prime. Have you gone soft?
You cannot l̷̪̲͒e̵̱̰͐t̸͓̯́͝ ̴̧́̀H̷̱͓͗e̵̲̒r̶̹̓̑ ̷̭̘̑̀w̶̯̝̿̏͜i̷̢͕̼̊n̵͎̯͊̎ A tug here, a twist there.... Oh my, you would really leave such an easy thread right in the open like that? Oh Celestia, how you have fallen.
You ć̸̞̼̳̾̽ǎ̴̛̗͔̻̍ň̷̦̠͙͑̕ṉ̸̤̃͝o̴͎͂͒ẗ̵̼̠́̄́ ̵͖̈́̀̉f̷̺͍͌̈́a̴͈͝ĺ̵͇l̶͔̜̀̍ ̸̝̝͊͘͝t̶͎͒̾̚ǫ̶̩͉̓ ̴̥̰̻̈́̀̌d̷̤̂a̸̖̓ͅr̴̗̫͐k̸̳̪͊͗n̷̬͎̉e̴͙̳̍s̷̩̓͘ṡ̴̜̩ It's nearly as if you simply positioned a large board with nails sticking out of it over his psyche. So, so crude. Did you expect the pain to somehow dissuade me? Perhaps this is the night you will finally realize the proper way to sacrifice.
F̴̯̄͘o̸͖̘͊ṟ̸̳͐̍g̷͇̽i̵̳̙̪͑́v̶̹͗ȇ̴̳͈̪̎͝ ̶͈̺̹̚m̶̪̠̙̾͗e̶̩̟͂ͅ-ȩ̵͎̪̊̃ę̵̬͓͓̗̊́̀-e̵̺̞͘͜ě̶̙̜͕̈́̓̃-ę̶̢̛͚̽͑̈́̊̓̃̈́é̷̡̝̠͔̬͖̺̮̯̎͝͠ͅ-ȩ̴̨̺̘̺͐̀͆̊͋͊̕͜ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝-e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅē̸̺̺̞̉̈́̃̑̕͝-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ē̸̺̺̞̉̈́̃̑̕͝ē̸̺̺̞̉̈́̃̑̕͝-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ-ë̸̦̦̆̀̄̉͝͝e̴̢̲͚̳̺͜͝ͅ
Light Flow? Child, can you stand?
Gradually, through the blurry haze of pain ringing and echoing where it never should have, the sweetly gentle tones of something familiar called to him.
Forcing his eyes open through the grit that sealed them brought the cool, twinkling tones of the night sky above him into view. The stars, flecked about the moon like the most intricate dappling anypony had ever conceived.
And behind them- no, in front of them; the voice was back. The harsh, screeching tones of the monster in his head had tapered; leaving blissful, empty space. Gentle whispers and promises filled the void, driving his hooves to gather below him to heave himself upward onto his hooves.
Good, child. The shroud of her mockery of protection still hangs over you, but I've pulled it even further apart than it already was. It won't bother you or I again.
As his weak limbs somehow found strength to support himself, a feeling of intense relief ebbed into his body. Seething and soothing everything that ached, bringing new revitalization to the internal pains that had scarred him.
The voice had gotten rid of the static. No more mind-blanking screeches in his head every time he had a thought or saw something strange. No more empty recollections where what was most important should have been. No more pain.
Love. It was love he felt.
Oh, child. You are simply precious.
He was precious to the voice. That sent warm shivers along his spine, even as the cold air bit at his scraped heels. His next breath brought a flush to his face and visible presence in the air, and he did his best to capture the moment in his mind as well as he could.
He didn't have many memories, but this was something to cherish.
It doesn't seem as though anypony saw you, so you must simply continue as though nothing happened. There are none that frequent the streets on the eve of the celebration, so you should continue unimpeded.
That was good, it would be bad if anypony saw him.
Though, child: you should wipe your nose. You've begun to bleed.
Warm fluid trickling along his lip came past muted awareness, and he snorted roughly as dull surprise flashed a dim lightbulb in his head. That wasn't a good sign. Thank goodness the voice had finally taken care of that awful static.
He swept his hoof up across his face, feeling the disgusting liquid drag and stain across his face and hoof. He brought it slowly down to look at, and even in the lesser light he could see the angry red smear running messily along his limb.
Perhaps... you should stop at a stream along the way.
He nodded haltingly. That would probably be a good idea.
He set his hooves to the direction they had been going before he had stopped to take a breath, and he gradually passed out of the shadow of the imposing government building as he continued south. Dirt mixed with smooth gravel turned to the paved tile of a bridge over a silently lapping stream; which he stopped at the side of for a moment.
He knelt down and dipped his hooves into the water for a moment, before quickly bringing them up toward his face in one smooth motion. Cool water splashed into his stained fur, feeling colder than he had expected in the chill of the night. He took a shocked, shuddering breath as his limbs locked up for a moment, before exhaling heavily as his entire body shivered. His face was relatively clean and dripping, now; but there had to have been a better way to do it.
Stars, he was such an idiot. The voice was counting on him to join it at the castle in the woods, and here he was: making himself sick.
You have little to fear, child. Your antics are amusing enough, and I'm not angry. Just hurry along before the night loses its patience and you catch a cold.
The tingling sensation of amusement in his head, rumbling along his ears as an indulgent tease tweaked their ends. Even with his fur matted and on end from the cold water, he knew a subtle flush was crossing along his cheeks.
Now he was sitting at the side of a stream in the middle of the night blushing like a schoolfilly.
Time to move on.
Yes, child; you musn't dawdle. You'll see Ponyville again, just as soon as all is right in the world.
You and I, we'll fix what should have gone right the first time. What will go right this time.
The Queen and Her Knight. Together, we will save Equestria.
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The voice seemed to know everything, as it whispered what it shouldn't have known into his ear. Making his way through what the voice called 'The Everfree' probably wasn't supposed to be as easy as it was, but there he was: taking every correct turn and path like some kind of expert.
Though, with civilization far behind him, and the dark, oppressive canopy above: he couldn't help but felt somewhat trapped. The dense branches and dim leaves shading the path left no room to see the sky above him. With no way to see the sky, he couldn't see the moon.
With no way to see the moon... how would he ever be happy?
Oh child, you flatter me so. I promise, we can look at the moon together as much as you please, just as soon as you reach the castle.
Oh, he couldn't wait.
And he wouldn't have long to wait, as the voice continued to instruct him. Every turn, every path, every possible attack: the voice knew where to go and how to avoid it.
Left here. Right at the fork. Stop there, and turn around. Double back, the path's changed. Keep going through the trees, and squeeze between the bushes. Along that cliffside, don't worry about falling.
He barely had to pay attention to his surroundings at all. It was simply easier to listen to the voice's directions.
His guardian. Guiding him through danger like a benevolent angel.
Like a goddess.
You'll be coming up to a break in the treeline soon. It's a place you've been before, though the chances of you remembering it are slim.
Low hanging branches and sharp thorns tugged and tore at his coat and fetlocks as he trudged through a pathless course through the forest. Greenery pushed and swatted at his face, and he let out a silent curse as flecks of something stung his eyes.
He was close, he had to keep going. The voice was counting on him.
He blinked the pain away, and focused on the pale light shining from a narrow break in the greens beyond the obstacles ahead. Rough, faded tree bark scraped against his sides as he squeezed through trees set close together; placing him on the other side of a wall of leafy blockage with little ahead but his goal.
He brushed along the large leaves of unknown plants as he slowly crept forward, towards the shining exit to what lay ahead. Foliage darkened at the edges of the light as he drew closer, and the familiar taste of open air blinded him for a moment as he took a step out of the forest.
Gradually, the moonlight eased his eyes open to the sights that awaited him; and he inhaled softly in silent awe as dead sparks of something he couldn't recall flashed behind his eyes.
A great, stretching ravine; clawing deeply and raggedly across the land farther than he could see in both directions. Mist edged and pooled from an unseen source along its walls, sliding down and shrouding its bottom from view.
It was so large. A bigger, wider trench than he had ever seen before; though that didn't say much. He couldn't even see through to the other side, as the mist seemed to rise unnaturally towards the sky; hiding what lay beyond. An impenetrable wall of fog, too dense for even the moon's rays to pierce.
The narrow cliff face in front of him was crumbling at the edges, and seemed to be pressed suffocatingly against the treeline in nearly every place except where he conveniently stood; though he was sure he could see the reason why.
A few hooflengths in front of him, what seemed to be a very old bridge stretched out into the wall of mist. He couldn't see the first board from where he was standing, but it looked to be set directly into the cliffside; and supported by ropes leading from two monolithic wooden stakes driven evenly into the ground.
He stepped further out into the bridge's clearing, and winced as hot lengths of burning wire scoured painfully across the front of his mind. His hooves wobbled weakly as he grimaced, and brought a shaking hoof up to lay over one of his eyes. Something about this place was just... so familiar...!
Don't concern yourself, child. You have been here before, but it doesn't concern us at the current moment. I give my word that you'll have your mind returned to you; but first, you must cross the bridge. The castle is on the other side.
The voice came again, with soothing words that chilled the burning holes in his memories. Strength filled him unexpectedly, allowing him to right himself with more sureness than he'd though himself capable of.
The grimace faded, and his expression turned to determination as he faced the challenge before him. He could do it, the voice was behind him.
The two wooden posts stood like dauntless guardians, steadfastly holding their position at the bridge's ends. Steady creaking from beyond the edge filled the air as the ancient wood swayed in the worsening breeze, sending sickly spikes running through his shield of confidence.
Even with the boost from his benefactor, it was a daunting sight.
Don't hesitate, you shall not fall on this night.
The unheard tone in the voice was laced with warmth, filling the holes in his confidence with newfound comfort. He let his eyes drift towards the moon once more, almost half hidden behind the bastion of ethereal smog; and took a deep breath.
The bridge looked worn and beat down, but he trusted the voice. If it was safe to walk on, then he would have faith.
He set his eyes to Equus, and took one sure step forward. The silent step onto greyed grass didn't send reverberations through the world, but it held weight for him regardless. He was putting his life in the indiscernible limbs of a voice entirely in his head.
He wasn't dumb, and he wasn't entirely brainwashed, either. He knew how it would have seemed to anypony else; it was seemingly totally insane. He had given almost complete control of his actions to a random voice in his head; all because it was saying nice things.
It wasn't something a sane pony would do, that's for sure.
But as he took another step right to the edge of the swaying bridge, and he looked out over the loosely connected rotting boards leading out into a completely opaque wall of mist; he could feel a creeping certainty over the rise of his nape. A crisp, cool feeling; not unlike a comforting hoof.
He knew that the hoof would pull him back up if he fell. He knew the hoof would steer him away from danger. He knew the hoof wouldn't abandon him.
He needed this. All day, he had struggled to find any path; any way to surface from the deep depths of the despair that had haunted him and taken everything from him. Something to give him any kind of hope when it seemed as though he wouldn't ever find the answers to any of his questions.
And now: he had it.
This was what it felt like to have a faith. A higher power to trust in.
He understood religion, now.
Sinking his hoof onto the first dipping board brought it tight against the bindings holding it up, though it firmly stayed steady. Gradually, through the panic threatening to slip his hoof out from under him, he brought his other hoof out to rest beside it; and sent a silent prayer to the voice for protection before shifting all of his weight onto his front.
A muted creaking sound emanated from the board, but barely any louder than the other noises the bridge was naturally making as it swung in the breeze. His tongue darted out to lick fearfully at his lips as he flicked his eyes to the next board sitting less than a few inches ahead.
Faith. He had faith, now. He just had to take a leap, and have hope. Jump into the deep end, as it were.
His breathing picked up as, in one quick motion driven entirely by fear, he swung his right hoof forward onto the second board, and his back left onto the first board. The feeling of vertigo wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be now that he was almost completely supported by a structure that looked as old as dirt, but it still sent his stomach flipping.
He blinked rapidly, never taking his eyes off of the swaying boards below him. If he slipped, there probably wouldn't be any time to react; but it still made him feel better. It probably wasn't the time to think of it, but there was a possibility that there was a river below him. If he fell, maybe he'd still survive?
Light Flow, you must hurry. Soon, I will have to depart; and I won't be able to guide you as I do what must be done. Simply walk forward, and you'll find your hooves on safe ground. Go.
Urgency. The voice was running out of time, he needed to move.
A rising sense of gravity in both definitions squeezed his throat with heavy pressure as he took a shuddering breath and swung his remaining hooves in the same pattern as before. Two hooves on the second board, two on the first; that wasn't so bad.
Well, the motion itself wasn't so bad.
The swaying sensation of perilous suspension threatened to sweep his hooves out from under him the longer he stared down at the little space overshadowed by an endless backdrop of lightly colored mist. His vision didn't quite begin to swim or circle, but he dragged his eyes up to the rickety path in front of him regardless.
Simply walk forward, that's all he had to do. One hoof in front of the other; slowly, surely, he would find his way. All he had to do was have faith.
Would it help if he closed his eyes? Probably not, that might've been taking it too far.
He kept his eyes steadily on the sight of the planks in front of him as he took a wobbling step forward. His hoof met tentative contact, and he brought his corresponding back hoof forward in response. Easy so far, now for the rest.
One step, two step. One hoof on the next board as his heart leaped in his throat, and then bringing his back hoof in delayed tandem.
One, two. One, two. A dance that never ended, as the semi-comforting sense of ground just behind him faded; leaving nothing but the terrifying realization of a potential freefall into helplessness.
His face was a rictus smear of nervous energy, perpetually lifted in a tic of a humorless half smile. He would have left something more dignified as his mind was totally commandeered by the washing waves of panic that flew through him with every breeze, but he had pretty much lost control of those muscles.
Really, he couldn't feel his body at all. The constant edge forward was almost completely autonomous, and the only input he could force his body's locked muscles to offer was a flimsy flinch every time an urging creak filled the air.
He would have to check his memories when he got them back, but this total fear of heights didn't seem like something he had ever experienced before. Maybe it was new? Maybe it was just because the bridge was so incredibly out of order?
Maybe it was because of the enormity of the situation.
His entire world shifted precariously as the next board unexpectedly shifted with a little more give than he was used to, and images of a messy red smear at the bottom of a rocky floor danced for a single second before his eyes.
He couldn't panic, he just couldn't. He was further than halfway across the bridge, now; and the wall of mist was less than fifteen boards ahead. The plank his hoof had frozen on hadn't fallen off, it was just a little looser than the rest. It was fine.
No matter what he told himself in his head, the adrenaline screaming in his veins wanted him off the bridge as soon as possible. It was only the constant reminder of the voice watching him from wherever it was that drove his next motion onto the next board; and it was a concerted effort to keep his eyes locked ahead and not on the swinging swaying deep darkness canyon cliff miles below him like the jaws of a monster-
Okay, that wasn't helping.
One step, two step. It was back to the autonomous monotony once again, though it was far better than idling in the middle of the bridge, thinking about how disappointed the voice would be if he were to fall to his death.
Sooner than it felt, the wall of smoke was just in front of him. From his unsteady lean on the unsteady bridge, he couldn't commit too much thought to really analyzing the nitty gritty of a featureless wall of gas; but his subconscious mind apparently thought it'd be worth noting that it wasn't as cold as he'd expected.
It was almost warm. Maybe it was some kind of pressurized steam that just looked like mist? It was hard to say without knowing explicitly where it came from. For all he knew, there could have been some kind of heat well in the rocks somewhere below him. If there was a way down, it might be interesting to check out sometime.
What did I say about dawdling, Light Flow?! You must hurry! I'm losing patience!
Disregard everything interesting about the situation, the voice sounded irritated. A different sort of panic rose in his throat as his nerves ran away from him, and he hurriedly reached his front hoof out into the steam-mist.
The warm feeling enveloping his limb was nice enough, especially out of the worsening chill in the night air; but he had no time to luxuriate in it. Without the benefit of his eyes, he simply set his hoof down where the next board should be, and plunged his face into the cloud.
It was immediately obvious that the cloud was thick, as he opened his eyes to a complete void of pale emptiness. His hoof had found solid contact with the next board, thankfully; and he brought his back hoof up in the now familiar double movement.
The mist was heady, and it was a little hard to breathe inside the cloud. He swung his head around to his left as his eyes drooped, and then to his right as his tongue lolled out of his mouth.
It was quite the change from the outside air, and it was becoming hard to stand it. With the formless mass pressing down on him from all sides, he was beginning to feel somewhat trapped again, and his hooves itched to carry him out of the oppressive atmosphere.
He would just have to trust the voice, again. Simply walk forward, even though he couldn't see the boards anymore.
It almost felt like a test.
His next step carried through the fog in increased intensity, and he gasped breathlessly as the very edges of his vision darkened for a second. It was... really hard to breathe, actually.
Oh no.
Forward. He was in danger, now; and he had to go forward.
One step, two step, take a strangely thinning breath. His lungs felt tight..!
One step, two step, take a labored breath. He could barely hear the ever-present howling of the canyon winds and the swaying of the bridge, anymore. It was just the deafening sound of his hammering heart in his ears.
One step, two step, take a breath, damnit! How had he run out of air so quickly?! It was almost like the mist was sucking it out of his lungs or something!
One step, two step, grit his teeth. He would make it, he had to.
One step, two step, blink. Was he almost there?
One step, two step, breathe. How long had he been walking?
It was too much, he was running out of air. His head hung low as each step forward seemed to take longer and longer, and his eyes closed periodically as the strain left him blind. How had this happened? This... this couldn't be regular mist..
One step, two step. Trust the voice. He had to trust that he would make it.
One step, two step.
One step, two step.
Please..! He couldn't see..! Where was he? Had he fallen? What was happening? Was he still moving?
His throat pushed for a breath, but none came; and he choked weakly as he tried desperately to somehow force his burning lungs to help him. His vision had long since blacked completely out, and the lingering sensation of his hooves moving had faded, too.
Nothing was working, he was floating in a void. Even the pain in his chest was beginning to fade as each conscious thought became harder to rationalize. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing mattered. Everything mattered...
Had he done it? Had he made it?
Had he failed? Had he died?
Where... was he?
Where... was the... the voice..?
Why... why couldn't he...
Why couldn't he just... take one more... step...?
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
There is no cause for fear, child; you've made it. I'm so proud of you.
Rest now, it is deserved. You are safe, and I have peace of mind.
I must go now, for the hours draw steadily deeper; and there is somepony waiting for me.
This coming battle will be long and hard, and it will tax me. I would ask for some sort of blessing of luck, but you've clearly had all there is to give.
That is alright, and you've a better use for it regardless. Luck's cruel gaze has never favored me or mine, and I've never wished it so.
...
If... I want you to know, child... If I do not succeed... If you do not find me waiting for you...
...
I...
...
..Nevermind...