Fatigue.
Spring Mist stood above the body of a rose-colored pony. Deep gashes lined its sides, crimson blood long since ceased flowing. He looked around at his surroundings, taking them in. Bodies littered the ground, mangled and twisted. Dark tendrils snaked around Mist as he looked around. He was alerted to a sound, a snap of a twig somewhere nearby, accompanied by a weak sniffle. He turned to look in the direction of the sound, seeing two mares stand before him. No, three mares. One, a scholarly-looking light pink unicorn, a gem and a scroll for a cutie mark. The other, a tall and regal blue alicorn, a moon adorning her flank and regalia. The final mare, an old one, her pink coat almost like the first mare’s, greying most flatteringly … she seemed different… as though not truly there. The first mares looked worried, heartbroken. The older one merely looked… disappointed. Sad, like a parent if their child had failed a test. Yet somehow… still seemingly willing to embrace him.
“Mist?” said the purple mare.
Mist did not make a sound, only watching as the mares approached him.
“Mist, if you are still in there, we need you back. We forgive you, just… stop this. Please.”
“Stop?” Mist finally answered, “Why would I ever do such a thing? Get out of my way, before I cut you down.”
“No, Mist!” The mare protested. “No! I won’t let you do this.”
“Begone!” A smoky tendril lashed out, swatting the mare away. Mist walked away without a second glance.
The alicorn stepped in front of Mist, blocking his path. “Mist, stop this. Please. Please, my love.”
“Step aside, moon spirit. I offered you a choice once. I shall not make it again. Now step aside or suffer the fate of those below you.”
“Mist, I will not. I will not let you destroy this place, these ponies, everything you love.”
“Love? I love nothing. Your sister failed. Your Elements have failed. Your love has failed. Now nothing stands in my way. Not you, not her. No creature, pitiful or mighty.”
Mist walked around the blue pony. A scorch mark appeared on the ground near him, blue magic dancing around the edges. He looked back to the moon princess standing ready to fight.
Mist looked calmly on as she lashed out. Blue magic surrounded her, issued from her, pointed at Mist. The black around him effortlessly repelled the magic, piercing it. Not just it, but the mare behind it.
Blood flowed freely from her mouth as she hung suspended from the pointed shadows. They receded, letting her fall to the ground. Tears streamed down her face as she watched Mist continue forward.
But he halted. The old mare. She had said nothing, done nothing. He looked back. She stood staring, sadly. Mist charged at her, but she did not move, did not flinch.
“What do you want, phantom?”
A sad smile appeared on her face as she looked to the body of the dark blue alicorn lying on the ground, then at the still body of the scholarly mare. She turned away, walking from the scene. Mist stood still as she walked, once last glance over her shoulder.
A shade from the past.
“What? What have I done?” Mist looked frantically around at the carnage before him. Tears stained his face as he found Luna’s body. Clutching it, he watched as the old mare turned away, disappearing.
Still cradling the lifeless body, the empty shell of Spring Mist let out an unearthly roar. Pure and unhindered anguish.
********
Spring Mist awoke to a scream. But not his, as he would have expected. Instead it came from a nearby spot – Radiant’s tent. He stood quickly, rushing from his tent. He found hers, looking undisturbed. He pulled open the cover to see Radiant Bloom huddled in a corner, weeping and rocking herself.
“Radiant?” Mist asked quietly.
“What happened?” came a voice from behind. Mist turned to see the whole group gathered around. Except Luna.
“Shhh!” Mist protested. He turned back to the weeping pony in front of him. “Radiant? Are you alright?”
No response came from the mare save pathetic whimpers. Mist crawled into the tent and wrapped his forelegs around her. She turned and cried into his shoulder, sobbing loudly.
“Hey, hey. What’s going on?” he asked gently.
“Oh, it was- it was the w- worst thing,” she struggled through tears, dropping her voice, “Y- You were… doing s- such hor- horrible things…”
“What do you mean, Radiant?”
“You… k- killed ponies. You- you hurt me, and the Princess.”
“Oh, Radiant, you know I’d never do that.”
“I- I know. But i- it wasn’t ju- just you… it was the N- Nigh- Nightmare.”
Mist grunted. “That thing can’t hurt you. Don’t worry. And if it comes near you, I will have some very strong words. Okay?”
“M- mmkay…” she trailed off.
Mist shook her a bit, but she did not respond. Her breathing was light, but peaceful. Mist slimed at the sleeping mare. He edged his way out of the tent, letting her rest. The others were still outside, waiting. As Mist emerged, they looked at him expectantly.
“Well?” asked Starlight.
“Bad dream,” Mist replied quietly.
“That’s all? Hell of a bad dream,” commented Chaser.
“A Nightmare-induced… nightmare. I think”
“Like the ones ponies in Canterlot were having?”
“Similar, I’m guessing.”
“That means it’s here. I mean, for certain.”
“It could just be stress,” said Bleedingheart, “poor filly’s never been outside of Canterlot. Can’t imagine this is easy for her.”
“You might be right… but in any case, she’s asleep again. I suggest we all follow suit.”
The group nodded in agreement and dispersed. Mist moved back towards his tent to get a few more hours of sleep before they headed off again.
********
The sun beat down on the party as they pushed forward. It wasn’t hot so much as it was bright. Almost overbearing. Mist silently cursed Celestia for giving them such a day.
I suppose I should I should be thankful. It could be snowing…
Yes, it could be.
Oh. You.
Me.
Are you ever going to just… go away?
Well now that’s a question, isn’t it? Is that something you want?
What do you think?
Honestly?
Ha. You, honest?
Now that’s not fair. I’ve been nothing but truthful to you. A little vague, sure. But I have never lied.
Lies of omission then.
Ah, fair enough. But the point is, what I do tell you is honest.
Fine. Then be honest.
Okay, here it is – You don’t want me gone. You are curious. You want information. And I’ve given you a glimpse of power. Power you seek.
I’ve never wanted power. That was your agenda.
Was it?
Yes. It was.
Just remember who I am. What I am. I feed off of other ponies. Like a parasite, I take what is your and make it mine. But with each new victim, all that has been taken becomes a part of the new.
What does that even mean?
It means that throughout my history, every pony that I have taken becomes a part of me. And as such, becomes a part of every pony I take after. You, Spring Mist, have the essence of a thousand ponies coursing through your spirit. Each of their deepest wishes, their greatest desires. Their motivations. All are now a part of you.
But they are not my own.
But how do we really know what is ‘our own’? Is every pony not the mere collection of experiences and interactions that they face in their lives? Can one pony not convince another of an idea? If so, is that opinion their own? Or just that of another?
That of another. Of course.
If that is so, is there any such thing as discovery or true originality? You are at but one point in the story that is life. The history of those who come before shape the lives of those who come after. You are just the product of those born before you. Rather glum, no? I choose instead to believe that it is both: we are the product of those around us, and of our perceptions of those same things. It is symbiotic, not parasitic. Ponies do not feed off of each other like changelings. They grow, add, build upon each other. Each step improves the common existence.
You… you have a good point, I guess. Wait – you keep saying ‘we’. You’re not a pony.
Of course I am. As much a pony as you are. I am more, of course. But that doesn’t mean I’m not a pony.
Now that doesn’t make sense.
It doesn’t have to. You just have to accept it.
And since when did you become so philosophical? What happened to the doom and gloom of “Ohhh, I’m going to take over Equestria”?
I may have taken a philosopher at one point or another. And I’ve been around long enough to have figured out a thing or two.
I don’t know what scares me more. The fact that I’m possessed by the incarnation of evil itself, or that it’s a philosopher in its spare time…
I can’t be both? I adapt, remember? Change to fit the need. And eventually I get my chance to torment and defile.
And you enjoy it.
I really do. More than you can imagine. It is what sustains me.
Are you sure you’re not Discord?
Quite sure, yes.
It’s just… you seem to be too… happy. You take too much pleasure in what you do. You enjoy the suffering of other ponies. You play games with them, change their lives in ways that result in the most efficient output of negativity.
Well, Discord and I are cut from the same cloth, as it were. All spirits are, really. But the key difference is that Discord is only chaos. He cannot create order, and he thrives on chaotic energy, entropy, itself. I, on the other hand, can create whatever it is that I need to survive. If I need to make somepony happy. So be it. It only makes is sweeter when that happiness ends – as all things do. If I need order, only to build an empire and then destroy it, I will do that.
So you are Discord would get along then? Why haven’t you tried to free him?
Actually, I prefer Discord weren’t around too much. He establishes consistency. Ironic, I know. But chaos is predictable in that it will always be chaos. A pony in a chaotic world will always be unhappy, knowing that things could change in an instant. Sure, that will provide me with sustenance, but it won’t be as… delicious… as if that same pony lived in a stable world that suddenly disappeared. A king who becomes a beggar is far more sustaining than a king who loses and gains everything all the time. So in some ways, we are very alike. But he thrives on entropy. If you want true chaos, look no further than yourself. Emotion, the most chaotic substance in existence. And that is where I make my home.
You really are evil…
You sound surprised. Even now, I feed off of your pain. Your guilt. And that of those around you. You may not see it, but every pony has something turbulent within. Something I can take.
Nightmare? I just have one question…
Oh?
Why? Why are you?
Mist’s mind was blank for a time. Empty. Quiet. After an uncertain amount of time, the answer finally came:
Story time is over for now. You are about to start the hard part.
That answer frustrated Mist, but he looked ahead. Before him, somehow escaping his notice, were the towering mountains that bordered the Badlands. The ground changed from lush and green to barren reds and browns. Soft earth replaced by rocks and dust.
“We’ll make camp her,” announced Luna. “The moon will rise soon. Everypony get some rest. We go in at first light.”
The party collectively dropped their saddlebags and packs, opening their tents. Mist turned to Radiant, who stood a short distance away.
“So, the Gates, huh?”
“Yep,” she said, “Impressive aren’t they?”
“I guess you could call them that.” Mist trailed off for a moment, silence lingering between them. “Umm, Radiant?”
“Yes, Mist?”
“Are you okay? I mean, after last night.”
“I’m fine, Mist,” she said, putting on a smile. “Really, I’m fine. It was just a bad dream.”
“Okay, I was just worried about you. We didn’t talk today, so…”
“Mist, I said I’m fine. I’m not a filly.”
“Okay, sorry. Just making sure.” Mist turned back to his own things.
“Hey, Mist,” said Radiant from behind him. “Thanks… for being there.”
“You’re welcome.”
Not a word was said after that. Mist set up his tent, crawling in before anypony could disturb him.
The hard part. Right.