//------------------------------//
// Act 2 CH 1 Echos of Loss: Sweet Dreams’ Lament 
// Story: Twilight's Nightmare 
// by Nightsclaw 
//------------------------------//





The ashes of the battle were still warm, but Sweet Dreams' heart was ice. They had escaped, but with the cost, what did it matter? Silent tears fell one by one from her eyes, yet there was no pony to catch them. No lavender wing to wipe them away and then guide her into an embrace. No soft words telling her everything would be alright. Only her duty to her beloved drove her to double-check her work.  

Sweet Dreams regarded her craft's results. As perfect as it was, it brought her no joy. As miraculous as it was that the three souls before her would be fine, she just could not care. Each of the three silver cocoons held the core essence of one of Twilight's friends, reinforced with donations they did not deserve.

Black waves of spite promised terrible retribution. The muscles in her muzzle tried to distort her face. You had better appreciate what she sacrificed for you. It only took one look at the tear-stained plushy her wing still clutched to her chest for the nascent snarl to fade.

"Why?" She asked, even as she knew the answer. Her beloved Star was always giving of herself for others. More tears fell, but as always, they changed nothing. She nuzzled the little reminder of her beloved, then tucked it under her wing. You would not want me to indulge in my grief… not now, not with so much to do, would you?

It was easy to imagine the reply. All the logical reasons Twilight would wield in her answer. Self-sacrificing fool… She thought, but there was no edge to the insult, only more tears. They did not deserve you.

She looked up and, for the first time since her world had ended, actually saw her surroundings. Deep burns traced their way from the entrance to where Celestia's seals had been. On Grey's side, everything was peppered with small shrapnel holes. Nova's door had been replaced by still-solidifying golden slag piles. Large sections of the floor had been sacrificed to create an invading army, and Nova's hooves had left brands over what was left.

In short, it was a mess. A mess she would have to deal with, but the hollow in her heart made it hard to care.

Finally, she forced herself to look at what was left of her love. It was amazing anything remained, but what was there brought no comfort. Scraps of fabric and strips of charred flesh. The brightest point in her existence was reduced to almost nothing.

With each hoof step she took, she wished more that this was nought but a nightmare, but her heart wouldn't let her believe the lie.

By hoof and by wing, without the slightest touch of magic, she gathered it all, everything that remained of her love. The soft comfort held tightly against her side was a poor substitute for the embrace she wanted, but she clung to it like a lifeline nonetheless.

A hidden ember flared, and one of her feathers caught. She did not care. What was such a small thing claimed by the solar fire compared to what had already been lost? As the ash of it joined the rest, it felt right. At least a piece of her would forever keep her Twilight company.

She had to discard two more feathers before she lost her wing to the echo of this tragedy.

Delicately, with the utmost care, she partly unwove the plush Twilight she had so casually made what felt like so very long ago. More tears pattered on the wooden floor as, speck by speck, she placed each mote of her beloved into the memento.

The walk up the stairs was so very different from the playful chase they had shared. Her ears flicked. If she tried, she could almost hear the sound of Twilight's scrabbling hooves as she pursued and her own joyous teasing. The sweet siren call of the past would not be a poison she would lose herself to, not today, at least.

She paused at the doorway, and momentarily, a sad smile graced her muzzle. It was still here. The book fort was still here.

She gave Twilight a little nuzzle and floated her into the book fort. She covered her with a star-speckled blanket. "You have nothing to fear now, my Little Star. You are safe." Her tears ran more freely as she recalled their first meeting.

A haunting dirge tried to rise from her throat, but she denied it. There was something else she would have liked more. It was not a song that her voice cast into the air as she opened the book to its first page.

"Daring Do and…" She began.