//------------------------------//
// Sacrifices 
// Story: The Nightmare 
// by TheMusicalBoy93 
//------------------------------//

	Twilight Sparkle looked into the soft cyan eyes of Fluttershy and said, “You know, I'd almost forgotten what you looked like.” The statement was intended to be humorous, but neither one of them felt like laughing at the moment, and the alicorn looked away, her gaze falling on the decrepit walls of the dungeon, embarrassed by her attempt at lightening the mood.
According to Princess Celestia, this particular part of the castle had gone unused in centuries; crime was almost unheard of in Equestria as a whole, never mind in Canterlot itself, so the cells were mostly a relic of a time when friendship and harmony didn't hold much sway over the populace. They certainly smelled that way. Crumbling pillars, rusty gates, flaming torches instead of the lanterns found throughout the rest of the palace.
The torchlight just about illuminated the pale, waxen form of Fluttershy; she was resting against a cot set back against the opposite end of her particular cage, somehow managing not to show the terror that she felt. The sheets on the bed were woven from some coarse fabric which irritated her skin, but it was a better place for weary haunches to rest than the floor; damp and stinking, with something that looked suspiciously like lichen sprouting from the cracks in the ancient tiles. The pegasus opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged.
“What is it?” asked Twilight, moving closer to the cell, hoping that she could encourage her friend to say what was on her mind.
“I ...” Fluttershy trailed off, barely suppressing a sigh. Her eyes were moist, and her muzzle was trembling slightly – as was her entire body – as she fought to hold back the tears. “I don't even know what to say right now.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“I was afraid.” It was such a common feeling for the timid pegasus that it was almost second-nature to her to hold back. “I didn't know what was happening, not right away, but as time wore on, I began to remember more from each night.” Memories came unbidden to her; each and every one of her friends putting their lives on the line, letting her – no, it, the monster – take what it needed to survive. “It comforted you and the others to believe that I was unaware of what was happening, so I played along to protect you all.”
“And yourself.” It wasn't a question.
“Yes,” admitted Fluttershy with a slight smile. “If you'd known the truth right away, you'd have begun treating me differently. I wasn't … I mean, I knew that you were following me during the day, but I tried not to let on.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, recalling how they had taken it in turns to monitor her, ensuring that nothing untoward happened while she was out and about. “I needed that semblance of normality as much as you did. I would've gone crazy otherwise.”
“No one blames you.”
Fluttershy's luxurious pink mane fell over her face, hiding its fragile appearance from Twilight. She spoke quietly, softly enough that the alicorn had to prick her ears up in order to hear clearly. “It doesn't matter whether it was me or not. This thing inside me used my body to get what it wanted.” She hesitated, tugging gently on her bottom lip with her teeth. “Big Mac?”
“He'll be fine,” Twilight assured her gently. “All of us will be fine. As will you, once we get rid of this parasite.”
Fluttershy understood some of what Twilight Sparkle had planned to defeat the bat infection. Blue eyes met purple as the pegasus walked toward the gate separating her from the friend who had done so much to protect her. Not just in the present, but so many times before. “I don't want you to make any more sacrifices for me, Twilight. Just … end it.”
“I'm going to,” replied Twilight, confused as to what Fluttershy was implying.
“That's not what I meant,” the normally-gentle pegasus snapped, an edge of frustration creeping into her voice. “This idea of yours is a long-shot at best. It could kill you. I don't want you hurting yourself further on my account.”
“It isn't your decision,” Twilight said simply. “What happened to you was my fault, and that makes it my responsibility to fix it.”
“Even at the cost of your own life?”
“Yes.”


*


Princess Celestia had gathered Twilight and her friends in the grand dining room of the castle; it was normally reserved for state occasions and the like, but today, it was playing host to four very tired, very hungry, ponies who hadn't a decent meal or a proper night's sleep in many moons.
The only absentee was Applejack, who had returned to Ponyville in order to be with her brother as he recovered from Fluttershy's attack; while his wounds were grave, he was in a stable condition at the hospital, though it would likely be some time before he was back on his hooves. Twilight had implored the farm pony to stay, citing Fluttershy's importance to all of them, but Applejack's response had been rather bitter, almost chilling:
“Honestly, Twilight … I know she can't be held responsible for her actions, but out of all the ponies in town, she went STRAIGHT for my brother. Even if you do safely bring her back, I'm not sure how to feel about that.”
Twilight struggled to see the earth pony's point of view; the bat was a creature of instinct, and its instincts had drawn it back to the place of its creation. Big Mac was an unfortunate victim of happenstance; being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it very easily could've been Apple Bloom had the bat chosen to go left instead of right when it raided the house for food. Applejack, in her anger, was looking for some deeper reason that wasn't there, and it was bothering the alicorn that she would feel that way.
“Don't worry, darling,” Rarity said, putting a comforting foreleg around Twilight's withers. “She's very upset at the moment. I'm sure that once Applejack has the chance to cool down, she'll realise that she's being unreasonable.”
“Oh, I don't doubt it,” Twilight replied, exhaling sharply. She leaned into Rarity's embrace, enjoying the warmth and almost drawing strength from it. “But if the bat escapes again, we might need her.”
“The cell seems pretty secure,” said Rainbow Dash. She had been gleefully and gratefully taking advantage of Celestia's hospitality; chowing down on the finest cuisine Canterlot had to offer, and not minding one bit about the huge mess she was going to leave for the cleaning staff in the morning. 
After months of hard work and stress, all of them were finding it unusual – though definitely welcome – to be able to rest, relax and eat as much as they wanted. Rarity had been nibbling on some black grapes, while Pinkie Pie had been scoffing down sweet pastries as if they were the last such delicacies in existence. Twilight had taken a bite here and there, but she had felt bad about enjoying such gluttony while Fluttershy was trapped down below.
Celestia had refused her request to allow the pegasus to join them. “She doesn't transform until sunset,” she had told the Sun Princess, “there's no threat to us or anyone else from her during the day.”
“I'm aware of that,” Celestia had replied coolly, “but if there's even the slightest risk of it escaping and raising Tartarus in Canterlot, I'd rather keep it confined until we have a workable plan.” The princess was still unconvinced that Zecora's soul jar idea had any merit.
“Your Majesty,” a harried-looking guard said, stepping into the dining hall. He was flanked by another guard, while a figure in a dark brown cloak stood between them. “This zebra claims to be a friend of Princess Twilight Sparkle. She is carrying something about her person, but she refused to consent to a search. Normally, we'd have turned her away, but since she knew that the princess was going to be here ...”
“That's quite all right,” said Celestia, cutting off the guard's blather. “We've been awaiting our zebra friend, and the item which she carries.”
“Very well,” said the guard with a curt nod. They both smoothly exited.
“You have it?” Twilight breathed, hope surging through her for the first time in months.
It was rather … unimpressive, to say the least. Zecora reached into her cloak and retrieved a small glass jar with a simple metal lid. It looked like the sort of bottle that Pinkie Pie would keep gumball candy in. 
“That's it?”
“Do not be fooled by its simple looks,” Zecora said. “Used properly, the creature will not be able to escape its many nooks.”
“How does it work?” asked Celestia, peering through the jar and feeling more than ever that Twilight's faith in the zebra herbalist was misplaced. She didn't doubt her skill when it came to mixing potions, but dealing with magical infections was a whole other order of sorcery.
“To activate the jar's containing magic, a willing donor must impart a small amount of their own life-force,” explained Zecora, looking into Twilight's eyes. “From there, one must then breach the creature's defences and purify the source.”
Twilight looked at the zebra, perplexed. “I don't know what that means.”
“It means,” Celestia said, cutting-in sharply before the herbalist had a chance to offer any more of her headache-inducing rhymes, “that you'll have to enter Fluttershy's mind and attempt to draw the parasite out. Psychic warfare, essentially.”
“Be warned, Twilight Sparkle,” Zecora said, her voice turning black as pitch, “for every moment that you spend in fight, more time will be lost under the jar's blight.”
“Huh?”
“The longer that you're engaged with the bat in Fluttershy,” the princess translated, “the more life-force the jar will drain from you.”
“How long will I have?” Twilight wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.
“No more than twenty minutes, I would think,” replied Celestia. She hadn't seen such magic used in a long time due to the dangers involved, but the bat infection had resisted all other attempts at a cure. “Any longer and you'll most likely burn yourself out.”
Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Pinkie Pie approached her. The cyan pegasus was the first to speak. “Twilight, you don't have to do this.” She wanted Fluttershy back more than anypony, but she didn't want to lose another of her friends in order to do it. “We'll find some other way.”
“I agree with Rainbow Dash,” chimed-in Rarity. “There has to be another option. One that doesn't involve sacrificing yourself.”
“We'll be with you,” said Pinkie. “No matter what you decide.”
Twilight Sparkle was on the verge of tears. Nopony could've asked for better, more loyal, more caring, more generous, more amazing friends. She pulled the group into a hug. “This is all that we have,” she said to them. “Let's go get Fluttershy back.”


*


Twilight Sparkle hadn't ever had much call to enter Princess Celestia's private bedchamber; once or twice, she had snuck in as a filly to see what it looked liked. She dryly noted that the room hadn't changed much over the years. She idly wondered if it had changed at all in the centuries since she'd moved from her original castle in the Everfree Forest at all.
It was impolite of her to barge in the way she did, but the alicorn didn't have much time to dither. The hour was fast approaching when it would be time for the Sun Princess to lower that orb which she controlled, and for her sister to correspondingly raise the moon in its place; Twilight hoped that tonight would be the last night of Fluttershy's curse, but either way, she had rapidly come to the conclusion that it could be her own last night. “Good evening, Princess Celestia,” she said, affecting a formal bow that she hadn't had much call for since her own elevation.
“Princess Twilight,” Celestia said quietly, having difficulty even looking at her former student. “What can I do for you?”
The faint traces of anger colouring her eyes were bad enough, but much worse, to Twilight, was the sense of disappointment she radiated. “I came to apologise to you.”
“What's done is done,” said the princess, waving a dismissive hoof. “You have your own choices to make, and whether I agree with them or not is immaterial.”
“No, you were right,” stated Twilight strenuously, her voice cracking just a bit under Celestia's displeasure. “I should have known that I could trust you, even with this. I should have let you know right from the beginning what had happened, but … I was blinded by my own arrogance. I was so confident that I could resolve things by myself.” She lowered her eyes to the polished marble floor, seeing her own sad gaze reflected back. “But more than that, I was afraid.”
“What were you afraid of? That I would punish you for your failure?”
“No, well, yes,” admitted Twilight sheepishly, realising how ridiculous it sounded to worry about something so banal when her friend's life was hanging in the balance. Her head felt as if it were an overinflated balloon, ready to pop. She had to say this, she had to get it all out, even if it was only going to make Celestia hate her more. “Forgive me for saying this, but you once sent your own sister to the moon when she became a threat to you and to all of ponykind. I couldn't take the chance that you would see Fluttershy as a similar danger.”
Princess Celestia almost recoiled physically, such was the sting of the words. What she had done to her sister was a burden of guilt that sat daily upon her withers, and to have it thrown back in her face in this manner caused a rage to build within her. She took a deep breath and turned to the stained glass window, depicting some obscure facet of history long-forgotten by most. Even herself. “I can forgive your arrogance, even your lack of faith in me, but I can't forgive your reasoning.” She finally looked at Twilight, her eyes red with tears. “What I did to Luna was terrible, and it pains me to believe that you think I am capable of taking such action so lightly.”
“I didn't mean to imply ...” Twilight shut up, realising that, once again, she had royally screwed things up. “I was hoping that we could put things right between us before I went to face the bat. Just in case I'm not capable of saving Fluttershy.”
“You are not immortal, neither are you all-powerful, Twilight Sparkle,” said Celestia, “but I have no doubt that you will triumph through sheer force of will. Not even the bat can stand up to the strength of the friendship which flows through your heart.” She affected a smile. “Your actions prove that, heedless though you may be at times, you act only with the best of intentions.”
A tinge of crimson coloured Twilight Sparkle's cheeks.
Celestia was not slow in noticing. “You feel something more than friendship for Fluttershy?” She didn't sound surprised, simply … curious.
Before Twilight could answer, there was a knock at the door. Luna stood pensively. “It is time, my sister.”


*


The butterflies in Twilight Sparkle's stomach refused to settle, no matter how many deep breaths she took. Her hooves were sweaty, and a clammy chill shot through her spine. Rainbow Dash and the others had offered to join her in the dungeon, but she'd refused them; there was very little that they would be able to do to help, and she wanted them to finally get a good night's rest. The events of the last few months would've strained even the hardiest of ponies to breaking point, and they'd more than earned a respite.
That said, Twilight very much doubted that any of them were actually slumbering; the physical and emotional wounds they had suffered would be weighing on their minds, but more than that, they couldn't rest until this came to an end. However it would finally play itself out.
Under Celestia's guidance, the sun would soon set, and the moon would rise to take its place in the skies above Equestria; for whatever reason – black-body radiation, the wavelength of light it emitted, or even just thousands of years of pre-programmed instinct – it was the chalky bauble which triggered Fluttershy's infection, bringing forth the beast within. At least, that was Twilight's working theory.
Maybe the bat just really enjoyed the night-time? Maybe I can ask it once I'm in there? she thought with a rueful smile. It tugged at her, the sense of incompleteness; she wanted to understand the creature, to learn from it, but it was much too dangerous. Better that it was defeated, banished to the soul jar, and left to rot somewhere a million miles from anypony.
“Twilight?” Fluttershy said, hearing the sound of approaching hoofsteps and sensing that it was the alicorn princess. “Twilight, if that's you, please don't do this. Don't kill yourself for me, I'm not worth it.”
“You're worth it to me,” replied Twilight, “and to many others. All of the ponies up there would trade their lives for yours in a heartbeat. But,” she added, “I'm the only one who is actually capable of doing it.”
Tears formed in the pegasus' eyes. She'd hurt them all so badly already, and now she was going to be responsible for the death of Twilight Sparkle. “I don't want this.”
Over the months that they had been keeping the bat imprisoned and fed, Twilight had given much thought to the price she'd willingly pay to end her friend's suffering; nothing seemed too high, even the cost of her own life – assuming that all other options had been exhausted and it was a last resort – so the alicorn was experiencing a curious moment of peace as she placed the jar in front of the heavy iron gate and unscrewed the lid. “This requires direct physical contact to work, so I'm gonna need you to get as close as you can to me.” 
Oh, how I wish I was using those words in a different context.
“No.”
“Fluttershy, please ...”
“I. Said. No.”
Biting her lip to keep her temper in check, Twilight ignited her horn and telekinetically dragged the recalcitrant pegasus to her; she hated doing it, but she was being left with no other option, and the night was looming. Fluttershy's expression betrayed her own sense of righteous indignation, and Twilight's resolve weakened just a hair. “I'm so sorry, I really am, but I have to do this. I have to get this monster out of you.”
With maddening precision, Twilight manoeuvred Fluttershy until her head was practically lodged between the bars; there was just enough of a gap to keep her firmly lodged without hurting her, and the alicorn took the opportunity to caress her friend's cheek softly. So soft, so lovely. I'll see to it that you are free to be yourself again.
“Don't do this,” Fluttershy repeated, trying to worm her way out of Twilight's vice-like grip. Tears were streaming down her face, but she was powerless against the alicorn's magic. “You could have a long, long life helping other ponies, spreading friendship throughout Equestria. Don't throw that away. Not for me.”
The merest hint of a smile pulled at the corners of Twilight's muzzle. “What sort of princess would I be if I didn't use all of my power to help one of my subjects in their time of need?”
Twilight sensed the sun set. In a split-second, Fluttershy changed. It was an almighty effort to keep the beast in place – it had a strong resistance to magic, and given enough time, it would eventually break the hold she had on it – and to divert enough of her life-force into the soul jar, and the tension was evident on Twilight's sweat-soaked face.
“Let's see what's in there,” she growled hoarsely, looking into the baleful red eyes of the creature as her own blazed pure white.