//------------------------------// // Prologue: Dreams and Nightmares // Story: Shadow Within // by Zontan //------------------------------// The bell above the door to Carousel Boutique jingled, and Rarity stepped out of the back to find Twilight Sparkle standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Twilight!” she called, a smile spreading across her face. “So good to see you. What brings you by?” Twilight lit her horn and levitated a pair of dresses out of her saddlebags. Looking down, she muttered, “I, uh… need some alterations.” “Again?” Rarity asked, taking the garments and holding them up, looking between them and the newly-minted alicorn. “That’s the third time this month. Perhaps it would be better to wait until you’ve… fully adjusted?” Twilight grumbled. “I can’t. The Summer Sun Celebration is next week, and Celestia expects me to help with the ceremony. And I’ll be attending the celebration as an official Princess of Equestria.” She sighed softly. “I need these to fit.”   Rarity nodded. “Of course, of course. I understand completely. Come on, then, let me take your measurements.” Twilight allowed herself to be led to one of the mirrored alcoves as Rarity fetched her measuring tape. Soon the fashionista was busy taking measurements and jotting down numbers. “You’ve grown another inch,” she said after a moment. “At this rate, you’ll look like the other Princesses in no time at all.” Twilight shot a glare at the tape, as if it was somehow responsible for all this. “If it means these growth spurts stop sooner, I’ll take it.” She stretched, extending her wings unconsciously, and then blinked and took a moment to wrangle them back into place. Wings had always seemed so much easier to manage when Rainbow Dash did it. “It’s like going through puberty all over again, but twice as fast. It’s the worst.” Rarity waved a hoof. “Surely it can’t be that bad. A few months of ill-fitting dresses, and a lifetime of being a Princess in exchange. I would take that trade in a heartbeat.” Twilight turned, ignoring Rarity’s annoyed huff as she left the tape measure behind. “It’s not just that! I’ve got cramps in muscles I didn’t even have a month ago, I’m constantly bumping into things, I’m always hungry, I can’t even fly properly yet… and I have no idea how long this will last or if it’s even supposed to be happening! I’m charting my progress, of course, but it’s not like I have a control to compare against. I don’t know if what’s happening to me is totally normal or a sign that something is terribly wrong and I’m about to keel over. It’s so frustrating.” Rarity hmmed, taking hold of one of Twilight’s wings in her telekinetic grasp and continuing her measurements. “Surely you could ask Princess Celestia? She must have some idea what will happen, mustn’t she?” Twilight rolled her eyes. “I did. I wrote her a letter with a detailed list of my symptoms. She told me I was an alicorn now, and therefore highly unlikely to suddenly drop dead for no reason, and that I should stop worrying so much.” The alicorn huffed. “She called me histrionic. That was the word she used. Histrionic. And after I sent her all that data!” “How very rude,” Rarity agreed, knowing better than to side with anypony other than the alicorn in front of her. And it was true, even if privately she knew Twilight could sometimes be a little… overenthusiastic. It still wasn’t something one said to her face. “Darling, I’m sure everything will be fine,” Rarity added after a moment of Twilight quietly grumbling. “You’re a strong, clever mare, and you’ve made it through far worse. It may be a little uncomfortable now, but you’ll hardly remember it once it’s over.” Twilight smiled, for the first time that day. “Thanks, Rarity,” she murmured. “I guess I just needed someone to vent to.” Rarity waved a hoof. “Think nothing of it, dear. I’m always here if you need a guiding hoof.” She stepped back and took a moment to examine Twilight. “That should be everything I need. Come back tomorrow and I’ll have everything ready.” Twilight walked slowly through the darkened streets of Ponyville, lost in her thoughts. A cold wind blew in from the Everfree, bringing with it the late autumn scent of decay. The streets were empty, darkened houses looming just at the edges of her vision. Signposts creaked in the wind, and in the distance, a shutter slammed closed. There was a soft snap from under her hooves, and she stopped, looking down. A long, purple feather lay in the middle of the street, its shaft cracked where she had stepped on it. She stared at it, and then slowly looked around. There were dozens, if not hundreds more strewn ahead of her, haphazardly covering the path. She looked up, scanning the dark gray sky for something that could have dropped them, but it was empty. With growing dread, she looked behind her, and screamed. Twisted, bloody lumps of flesh writhed upon her back, plucked clean of feathers and dripping trails of blood down her coat. They squirmed as if alive, and she pulled away in revulsion. “No no no get them off get them off get them off!” she pleaded, trying desperately to escape her own body. Finally, in desperation, she lunged at them, her mouth closing around the thin bases. She tasted the acrid, coppery tang of her own blood, and she felt it as her teeth grew to sharpened, deadly points. With one wrenching tug, she tore through what was left of her wings, throwing them away and panting heavily.  The stumps did not bleed. Instead, as she watched, new wings sprouted in their place. But these ones were black as night, thin and leathery like a bat. They dwarfed her previous wings, shrouding her from the sun. Wherever their shadows touched her, she felt herself changing. Her fur lengthened, becoming thick and shaggy and unruly. Her hooves sharpened and gleamed like metal. Her tail fell out in clumps, and was replaced with something long, sinuous and scaly, which moved of its own accord. “No no no, please stop,” she begged, but her body ignored her. Her muzzle elongated, and the sharpened teeth grew longer, tips peeking out no matter how she tried to cover them. Even her horn curved forwards, the tip turned into a weapon. She cowered on the ground, head in her hooves, pleading and begging for the changes to stop. Then she heard a terrified scream, and her head snapped up. A pony was in trouble! But all she saw, just ahead of her, was a crowd of ponies, looking at her in terror. As she moved they panicked, pulling foals along with them as they fled from her. All around her, ponies screamed, fleeing into their homes and locking the doors. “No! Wait!” she called desperately. “I’m not going to hurt you! I’m not a monster! Please, come back.” She turned, and behind her was Rarity. Rarity wasn’t screaming, just looking at her in shock, one hoof over her mouth. “Rarity,” Twilight said gratefully, taking a step towards her, “Please… help—” Rarity let out a small gasp, and then turned tail and ran. “No!” Twilight yelled, her hooves moving instinctively to chase her. They left shallow gashes in the ground wherever they touched, but despite her body feeling stronger and more powerful than it ever had before, she couldn’t catch up with Rarity. The unicorn led her down street after street, always just vanishing around the next corner no matter how fast she ran. The houses grew closer together, the alleys she was being led through growing narrower as she went, until finally, she turned another corner and stepped out into nothing. She was falling, the light from above fading out as she plummeted into blackness. Her wings flailed, but they were useless, unable to provide any lift. Above her, she could see Rarity watching her fall, relieved. The monster was vanquished, and the pony was safe. But soon, even that vision faded, and Twilight was sinking, drowning in darkness. She struggled and tried to scream, but only a strangled noise came out, the abyss around her swirling like liquid. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she was drowning and no one wanted to help her—  Her eyes snapped open, but the darkness did not abate. She screamed, her voice muffled, and struggled against her bindings until her horn lit and she tore the blankets apart, freeing herself from their embrace. Panting heavily, her entire body slick with sweat, she stared up at the ceiling of her room. Just a nightmare. Just a dream. None of it was real. She looked down at her wings, bedraggled and hanging limply against her sides, and a strangled squeak escaped her. Those aren’t mine I don’t have wings those aren’t mine those aren’t mine—  “Twilight?” a voice called from outside her door. “Are you alright?” Twilight tore her gaze away from the wings. She swallowed, tried to speak, stopped, and tried again. “F-fine, Spike. I’m fine. Go back to bed.” The dragon paused for a long moment. Finally, he spoke again, his voice hesitant. “Alright, if you’re sure. Goodnight, Twilight.” “Goodnight, Spike.” The shadow outside her door moved away, and slowly, her breathing returned to normal, her heart no longer trying to hammer out of her chest. She risked a glance back down, and was relieved to find that her wings were her own again. All the feathers were intact, and they were supposed to be there. She rolled over, shivering. She didn’t close her eyes again. The bell above the door of Carousel Boutique jingled. Rarity stepped out to greet the customer, but stopped when she saw her. “Goodness, Twilight, you look absolutely dreadful,” she said instead, approaching the alicorn. There were bags under Twilight’s eyes, her fur and mane were hopelessly tangled, and her feathers were in such disarray that she was lucky Rainbow Dash wasn’t in the room. “What happened to you?” “Gee, thanks,” Twilight muttered. “I just didn’t sleep very well. It’s fine. Can I just get my dresses?” Rarity hmphed. “It is certainly not fine. Come on, let me get you fixed up. Would you like some tea?” Her horn lit up, and she flipped the sign in the window to the ‘Closed’ side, before practically dragging Twilight into the back. Before Twilight could work up the energy to protest, there was a teapot on the stove and she was standing in front of an array of mirrors. She blinked at the image of herself. She really did look terrible, she had to admit. Behind her, Rarity stepped up with a brush, and started working the tangles out of her mane. Twilight snorted. “I can brush my own mane, Rarity,” she protested weakly, even though the feeling of the brush in her hair was rather nice. “Obviously not, or you wouldn’t have left your house in such a state,” Rarity scolded. After a moment, her expression softened, and she added, “What’s wrong, darling?” Twilight shook her head. “I just… couldn’t sleep. I had a nightmare, that’s all.” Rarity frowned. “You had a nightmare, and it spooked you so badly you forgot how to groom yourself. Come now, you can hardly expect nopony to notice.” Twilight hesitated, before a sigh escaped her lips. “Rarity, if I changed… you would still be my friend, right? No matter how different I was?” Rarity blinked, and then laughed. “Twilight, darling, is that what has you so worked up? Of course I would. Nopony is going to abandon you just because you’re an alicorn, or a princess. We all love you for you, Twilight. A pair of wings and a crown won’t change that.” Twilight shook her head. “I know that,” she whispered. “I should know that. I should be happy that Celestia trusts me enough to give me such responsibility. But in my dreams… in my dreams I’m turning into a monster. And everypony runs away. Even you.” “Oh, Twilight,” Rarity murmured, before pulling her into a hug. “You’re not a monster. You’ll always be welcome here. No matter what.” Twilight closed her eyes, leaning into the hug and burying her muzzle in Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity’s coat was clean and well-brushed and smelled wonderful, and here she was getting tears all over it. “Thank you, Rarity,” she whispered. “I needed that.”