//------------------------------// // Still // Story: Still // by RunicTreetops //------------------------------// Opaline takes a sudden, sharp breath. Her eyes widen in shock, only for her to immediately wince at the light. It’s been a long time since she’s seen any light. How long, exactly, she does not know. She tries to orient herself. Is she standing up, or lying down? No… she feels like she’s flying. But that surely can’t be right. She lost her magic when that blasted Together Tree stole her cutie mark. Yet, there can be no doubt about the fact that she isn’t touching the ground. Actually, where is she? It’s definitely bright, but she’s so disoriented it’s like she can’t even properly perceive her environment. There are colors, sure, but what are they? She doesn’t feel a breeze, nor the light of the sun. In fact, she doesn’t feel anything at all. Wait, scratch that. She feels cold. …Cold? Fire alicorns don’t get cold. Opaline furrows her brow as she tries to make sense of this. Her mind feels foggy. Last she checked, she was trapped in the Together Tree. After that miserable Sunny and her friends ruined her perfect plans, the tree turned on her. It bound her, held her still, bathed her in darkness. Make no mistake, she was alive – the tree made sure of that – but being unable to move, unable to see, unable to speak… well, at times, she wished she was dead. And now, she feels cold. Has it finally happened? Is this the afterlife? An infinity of blurry thoughts and uncertain feelings? A brightness with no warmth, an existence with no meaning? “No,” she says out loud to no one in particular. “I know there is more to it than that.” Instinctively, she tries to move herself using her telekinesis, only to be reminded that she still has no magic, even in death. “Wherever I am, I refuse to be contained any longer! Whatever powers are holding me here, you will yield! I WILL see him!” As her shouts ring out into the space surrounding her, she is winded by a sudden feeling of weight. Her hooves find purchase beneath her. Grass. She looks up. Where a blurry mess of color was mere moments ago, now there is a beautiful sky bathed in oranges and yellows from a setting sun. Said sun is dipping beneath a distant horizon. She appears to be standing on a hill. No… a mountain. She’s been here before. This place is special to her. She knows exactly where she stands, and she dreads looking down. She knows what is waiting at the peak of this mountain. She knows what she will see right in front of her hooves. She takes a deep breath. As her gaze slowly shifts to the grassy peak below her, she finds the air escaping her lungs. She feels her body stiffen at what she sees. Or rather, what she doesn’t see. It’s gone.  …It’s gone. Whoever or whatever it is that is conjuring these images must want to torture her. Why is it gone? The one thing that she was positive would be here is– “Looking for something?” Opaline whips her head upwards in the direction of the voice. There, flying over the massive space mere feet in front of her, is someone she hasn’t seen in a long, long time. “...Anon?” He smiles. Tucked underneath one arm is a large stone... the very stone she was looking for. His headstone. “Yeah, I felt a bit weird just leaving it there. Would you prefer it if I put it back, Lady Opaline?” “Sh-shut up about the headstone!” Anon, the human incapable of flight, slowly levitates down onto the grass in front of Opaline. The instant he does so, she pulls him into a tight embrace. Despite how cold she feels, the tears running down her cheeks are very hot. “M-my lady?” For a while, Opaline doesn’t respond. He’s never seen her cry, and to see her act like this, especially after how long they were separated, comes as a bit of a shock. Carefully, he wraps his arms around her in an effort to return the gesture. The two stay like that for several moments until Opaline, not pulling away, lightly punches him on the back. “H-how DARE you leave me?!” She shouts her question through her tears, clearly more relieved than angry. Anon sighs. “I died, Lady Opaline. I wasn’t immortal like you.” “I know that, but… you cannot just leave my service without my permission!” “Technically, you gave me permission to do exactly that.” “Shut up!” She smacks him again, but it’s weaker this time. Her tears stain the front of his shirt, which she realizes is a part of his old uniform. In fact, he looks a lot younger than he was when he passed away. He looks like he did in his prime. “Have you anything to say for yourself?” “...Lady Opaline.” His voice is low and serious. Opaline finally breaks the embrace, pulling away enough to see him fully. His expression is dark, the warmth that she saw mere moments ago completely gone. “Hmph. Fine, fine. I suppose there isn’t much for you to say.” Opaline lets out a sigh of contentment. “I must admit, I missed having an actually capable servant around. One that won’t betray me for a bunch of nobodies obsessed with ‘unity,’ or break out of their mind control spell right as I’m at the peak of my power.” “...” “You always were my favorite, you know that?” She looks him in the eyes, but the cocky smile on her face immediately disappears. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch. His expression is cold. Distant. “...Anon?” “Why are you here?” “I… excuse me?” “Why are you here?” His tone doesn’t change as he asks the same question twice. It’s uncharacteristic, and just strange enough to unnerve Opaline. “Well… that lousy Sunny Starscout and her friends turned my Together Tree against me. It stole my magic and bound me within itself. I suppose I finally passed away. Tsk, a better fate than being stuck there any longer.” “...” “Well? Is that the answer you were looking… for?” Opaline finds herself recoiling as she locks eyes with Anon once again. She can’t quite describe the change that occurred, if one did at all. He looks the same as he did moments ago, and yet he feels… inhuman. “You failed.” “Hm? Well, yes, I suppose the plan went wrong. But I–” "̷̢̛͍̖͖̯̪̝̙͓̂̅̄̉̇͛̀͂̓̉̑̓̌̽Ỳ̴̲̞̣͚̣̎͑̾̊̆̀͑̇̑̑͒̚͝͝o̴̬̪̠̻̪̱̪̤̺͐̎̍̓̂͒̈́̎̊̄̀͠ͅư̴̠͓̯͎̠̪͙͖̖̲̥͈͙̝͔̂̽͐͆̋̋͗̐̒̊̾͐̀̔͆̕ ̶̡̧̛̥͖̥̰͎͙͕͍͎̘͙̋̉͐͒̅̊͑̒̈́̈́̕͘͠f̴̢̼̺̘̻̓̉̌́̄͂ḁ̷̫̯̏͛ḯ̴͙̩͌̾̋̕̚͜ĺ̵̢̡̨̤͎̼̲͉̼̰̜͐̐͑e̴̢̛̺̱̱̥̟̐̊͗̊͐̌̈́̀̀͒͑̋̎͠͝ḓ̸̟̝̦̪͙̮͙̣̘̘̞̼͙͐͜͝.̸̜͙̱͖͇͎̜̦̠͈͎̅̓͑̓̌̆̇̿ͅ"̸̱͛͑̃̂͂̌́͘ “Anon? What’s gotten into you?!” "̵͇͖̻̯͎̺̺͗͐̔͊͊̈́̈͝͠I̵̧̨̢̧̛̲͇̖͚͕̩̭̼̮̘̹̋̐̄̇͗̆̓͗̏̒͛̃̀͘̚ͅ ̵̺̀̇̈w̴̧͍̪̯͍̣̦̲̠̱͈͔͉̳̤̯̏̌̂̇ḭ̴̡̧̡̱̼͍̬̓͌͋͐̋̓̆͒̏̈́̽̊̾͘͝͝l̶̘͔͂͊̔̆́̈́͌̈́̕ļ̷̦͇̬͈̻̼̦̳̻̏͂̄̉̒̀͋̈́͗͐̑̔̎̎͜͝ ̸̢̣̘͚͓͉̥͎̻̭̭͌͑̈́̉̂͛͑̒̑̎͘͜͠n̸̺̜͔̙̆̄͒̂̀̑̒͑̈̒͂̍̇́̉ȍ̶̘͈̮̯̗̬̌̂t̷̢̩̰̯̳͈̠̝͎̟͓̹̐̽́̈̌̍̈͐͊ ̷̤̟̮̞͚͒͑́̇̎͛͠s̵̰̹͍̜͉̤̠̍͆̿̽̐͂̇͗̎̆̐͒e̷͇͒͆̎̊͒͂̓͜͝r̸̮̩̍v̸̢̧̱̖̲͈̲̠̱̼̪͗̓͊̇͒̀ȩ̸̦̝͚̭͖̼͙̒̐̓̽̿ͅͅ ̶̧̡̡̬̘̩̜͕͒̾̊̓̐̓̇̋̿̑̚͝ͅa̵̦̖͇̮̫͉̖̥͕̯̦̦͈̱̯͉͛̅̃̋̏́̓̎̆͘̚͝ ̷͈͐̽̽̄̓̑́̑͠͠͝ḟ̷̦̱͖̩̖̩̘͖̙͛̄͑̈́̾̄͛̕a̶̜̟͎͔̹̦͗͠͠ͅi̷̢̢̛̛̯͕͓̥̤̼̬͇̠͔̺̽̉̃͌̈͜l̴̨̛̰̲̱̲̭͙̭̗̤̗͌̋́͘ư̸͎̯̼͓̲̺͔̼̳̱̘̺̋̆͊̓́̅̍r̵̮̦̗̲̹̮̼̹̣̖̯̈́̈́́ȅ̶̢̲͇̣͉͓͚̲͔̟͉͙̦͇̳̘̼̇̈̑̎̑͐̑̋͘̕̚ ̴̢̨̧̣̱̟͔̘͔͍̘̫͍̬͕͔͂̈́̒̓̊͐̈́͝ľ̷͉̲̫̘̠̥̘̫̟͂̇͑̈́̐̑̊̅̐͝͝i̵̢̢̛̛̦͍̞̮͚̙̘͇͇͚͓̲̲͈̾́̉̄̈́́̍͋́́͘ķ̵̛̛͓̱̺̃͗͊͌͐͌̍͊͊͋̑͠e̷̺̪̻̮͗̍́̎̏̇̂̋̌͛̿̊̓̎́̚͠ ̶͈͇͙̘̥̭̼̋̅͐̈́͂̌͗̍̿͝ͅý̴̡̡̛͙̪̟̪̥̥̮͖̃́̐̽̓̊̆õ̸̘̰̭̠̓́̓͌̐̒̂̀̌̈́͝͝u̸͖͖̜͛̈̓̃̏͗̀̎̈̍.̶̡̛͉̗̲͖͖̻̲̝̩̱̓̆̎̾̔͘̕͘̕͠͠"̸̡̭͎̤̮̘̳̣̩͓͕̇̌͒́̔̉̍͌̈͌̄̀̚̚͝͝ “Anon! You- ack!” Opaline feels a sudden tightness around her neck. Anon’s arm is outstretched, but he’s nowhere near her. Whatever it is that has coiled around her neck, it feels cold. It has a rough, scratchy texture. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a feeling of familiarity washes across Opaline. She opens her mouth to speak, but all she can do is choke out an unidentifiable mess of sounds. Whatever Anon is doing to her, it hurts. Millions of thoughts race through her panicking mind. Anon would never do this. Anon couldn’t do this. They’re both dead, so why would he even want to do this?  Can a dead pony even feel pain? Opaline is barely able to struggle against the object wrapped around her neck, which she notes feels vaguely plant-like. “W-why…?” "̴͈͇̃̓̆̃̉͐̑̇͐̄́́͒Y̵͉͌͋ơ̷̫̹̗͕͎͈͎͓͕̜̪̝̣͎̩̍̌̍̂̄̈͌͌͐͊̇̈́̇̋ͅú̵̡̡͔̯͓̜̦̦̱͚͙̔̑́̀͆͜ͅ'̵̥̉͂̏̌̋̊͂̔͒̿̃͒̒͊̅̆͝r̵̦͖͚̥̦͚̉̅̄̎̽̔̌̕è̷̢̺͓̻̱͔̫̲̈̃̋̆͛͂̿̇͘͝ ̷̨̧͚̖̠̭̟̳̯̱̘͍̝̃̈́̃͛̀͒̀̚͘͝t̴̫̼̤͚̄̐̎̃͒̕ä̶͔̘͔͉͚͚̤͙̣̺͔͉̯̭̭́̏̽̀́̀͗͜͝͝k̶̡̮̹̜͕͍͖͖̪͖͖̦̔̔͗́̍͒̋̋̍̓̽͒̓̐̚͠i̸̳͓͋̂̈͌̕ͅņ̷̧̢̡̺͖͖̙͈̙̼̦̞̰͘g̵̛̬̅́̄̉̈́͗̈́͗̐̕͝͠ ̵̧̛͚̙̞͕̠̺͇̬̭̼̺̝͆́͗̐̆̿̾̃͒̏̚͜͠͝t̴̛̞̤̜͇̙̻̥̻̞͖̯̝͓̲̘͆̔ͅḣ̸̜̈́̆͒̆ę̵̯̬̝͎͉͔͇̟̘̲͓̠̃̔̓͑͊̊́̎̾͆̈́̚̕ ̵̥͈͍͉̲̘̙̲͕̼̣̫̗͑̍͒͊͊̀̚͜ę̴̡̱̥̼͔͚͚̒̽̈̽̈́͆̽̏̽̾͛̐̊̕͝à̵̧̭͙̹͖̘̘͔͚̳̲̾̅͐̉͌͛ś̸̡̛̯͎̱̃̾͂͂̑̀ÿ̶̝̼̱̗̭̻́̈̊ͅ ̶̧̬̱̈́͑͒̈͗̾͐͛̎̌̄̂̀̔̿̚͠w̵̢̪̞̳͖̐̅̍̐̚a̷̛͍̝͐͋͑̊̚ÿ̵̧̝̼̣͓͍͕̦̬̪͓́̆͑̃̊͐͊͝ ̸̛̩̏̈́̎̍̄͛̎͑̀́o̷̢̪͚͓̖̜͙̅̓̓̚̕u̸̢̜̬̫̳̩̖̾́̒̈͌̇̾͛͗̚t̶̨̬̰̥̼̪͗͂̔.̸̬͎̰̼̮͈͌͌̊̀̏̑͊̆̉̊̉͌̕͘͝͝"̶̛̩͖͐̀͌̾̀͊̾͑̔̈́͘̕ͅ “Th-the easy way out?” Anon does not respond. Opaline feels her consciousness begin to fade. Her vision starts to grow blurry and dark. She tries desperately to look Anon in the eye one final time, but after she feels the pressure on her neck grow tighter, she blinks. When her eyes open again, he’s gone. “Anon… I…” Opaline tries to open her eyes, but she can't. Everything is dark. Her body is no longer cold. There’s a tightness around her whole being, and she is filled with the faint sense that something is holding her right where she is. She’s returned to her bindings. It was just a dream. She’s back in the tree. Unable to live. Unable to die. Opaline is trapped. If she were capable of moving, she would do whatever was necessary to not be here any longer. If she were capable of crying, tears would run down her cheeks. If she were capable of speaking, she would finish her final declaration to her long-dead servant.  “I love you.” And with that thought, Opaline returns to stillness.