//------------------------------// // Chapter 22: The Game Part One // Story: Strings // by naturalbornderpy //------------------------------// CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: THE GAME PART ONE   1   Since a single hour wasn’t enough time to do much of anything, Twilight Sparkle went to the head of the Canterlot maze and merely sat alone in the grass. Luna had gone off once their brief meeting with Discord came to an off-kilter close, and said she’d return before their game would begin. Twilight didn’t think the Princess would miss it for anything in Equestria.                  Maybe this will be the last hour of everything, she thought tiredly, glimpsing the wide, dark sky with its millions of tiny stars. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful night.                  She had wanted to spend her last allotted hour planning what may lay in wait for her inside Discord’s game, but something like that was a near impossibility. The old Discord could barely be counted on to follow a single formula. And now this new Discord? He might very well murder them both the moment they enter—save himself the trouble of getting clever and figuring out other ways to do away with his troublesome duo.                  What she would find inside was anyone’s guess.                  A warm body sat down beside her.                  “If we are strong tonight,” Luna said, “we can make it out of there, Twilight. We only need keep our wits about us… and our minds intact.”                  Twilight glimpsed the dark-blue mare. “What were you doing before?”                  “I was walking through my city for what may very well be the last time. Besides that horrible tower the draconequus has erected, he has kept my city close to the same as it’s always been. I will always love it—and its citizens—whether or not I should leave it all tonight.”                  Twilight rested her head on Luna’s side. “I almost thought you’d be grabbing your armor or something, for this last fight.”                  Luna laughed bitterly. “That type of battle will not be found here tonight, Twilight Sparkle. Although Discord has just shown that he himself is not above physical violence, I don’t believe he’ll try it unless he absolutely has to. I might even know of a spell to keep him in a single spot, but only if I can maintain enough contact with him.”                  “If we can’t turn him to stone what good would that do? Nothing else seems to effect him.”                  “I was merely trying to pass the time,” Luna said absently.                  For a long while the pair stared at the stars while they kept each other warm.                  Twilight broke the silence. “I almost get the feeling Discord wants this last fight; that he’s sick of pretending to be good for the public while being nasty everywhere else. In no way is he that same creature I knew from before.”                  Luna nodded solemnly. “I cannot disagree with you, Twilight. All Discord seems to be doing now is destruction to himself—the only part that’s troubling about it is that he wants to include as many as possible. But if he wants to die tonight, I will grant him that wish.”                  With that out in the open, the two alicorns waited for their hour to be up.   2   “Oh, there they are! We’re not too late!”                  No. Please, no. Not like this. Not like THIS!                  From her complacent seat on the grass, Twilight flew to her hooves and glared in the direction behind her. Along the dirt path marched six figures—all figures she could plainly tell even in the gloom of the night.                  “No,” she mumbled. “You can’t… you can’t be here.” Then she found more than anger behind that voice. “You shouldn’t be here!”                  All five of her multi-colored companions stopped a good dozen paces before them. Most tried to meet her eyes but slowly most found the worn path instead. A good few feet taller than the rest, Spike pushed his way forward. He said, “If you’re going to be mad at someone, be mad at me, Twilight. I send them all letters the moment you made them leave. What you’re doing, it’s not the way it’s supposed to go. I think there might be something else we can try.”                  “It’s too late for that, Spike!” Twilight was furious at him for two very distinct reasons. For one, even in the light of it all he was still trying so damn hard to help, and for another, this now caused her to send them away all over again—crush what little spirit might remain. It was still something she had to do. She told them bluntly, “This is it! It ends tonight! Luna and I will play Discord’s game and whoever wins will win! That’s all there is to it! The power of friendship will not save us this time, girls. I’m sorry, but… you’re only wasting your time here… there’s nothing you can do.”                  Spike held his stance. “But maybe there is, Twilight. When all six of you got together again for the first time in years, you set off some kind of wave of power. You all might not have seen it, but I did. Every light in the castle were ready to blow! There… there might be something to it, you know? It’s… it’s still something we haven’t taken into account!”                  Twilight shook her head angrily. “You’re right, Spike, there is something to it; faulty wiring in my old castle and nothing more. Without the Elements of Harmony, we have no power over Discord. If we at least play his game and triumph in the end, he might just break himself by his own curving set of rules. It’s what we have to do… only without the rest of you.” She came towards the group, the sharpness of her tone edging away. “Each and every one of you I cannot thank enough for what you’ve done. I might have shunned you for years but you came back the moment I called. That’s something I will never forget. And even though the brief time we spent together wasn’t the greatest of our lives, it was still probably the best time I’ve had in the last long while. I love you all and I’ll never forget our friendship. So because of that I won’t let you in that maze tonight.”                  Head lowered, Rarity broke away from the group. “We understand, dear. We thought it was a feeble attempt at best, but that’s what stubborn ponies tend to do—try and try again. At least we know what you’re up to now, and… at least we can say goodbye, should this be the end.”                  She wrapped a leg around Twilight, pulling her in. Over the next few minutes each one of her friends came over to say their own words of parting. Twilight, meanwhile, tried to steel herself as best she could. This time she would not cry. She would not yield on her promises. She was only doing what was best for them all… as hard as it might have been.                  Spike came last and for the longest embrace. They quietly agreed that if things went sour tonight, he would travel to a more dragon-filled section of Equestria, where perhaps his notoriety hadn’t been heard of all that readily.                  When they more or less had their say, her six friends reformed their little group and peered at both alicorns. Rainbow Dash said, “I still think it should be me in there with you, Twilight. He’s taken from me just as much as everyone else.”                  Twilight regarded her warmly. “But he hasn’t taken everything, Rainbow. Not yet. And he won’t.”                  Luna and Twilight turned to face the large entrance of the maze, when another voice caused them to stop.                  “Oh, how could I forget?”                  Rarity shot out from the pack, saddlebag in tow. With a skid she stopped just inches from Luna, hurriedly throwing a piece of jewelry over her head. It was of the same variety the rest had received, this time dark-blue. Luna held the end of it in her hoof, before smiling ardently. “Thank you, Rarity. It is beautiful.”                  Rarity waved it off. “I know that’s a lie, but that’s not the point. You saved Fluttershy the other night when none of us could. Although we might not have ever made it completely clear, we are your friends. I just want you to know that, Princess.”                  “Now I do.” Luna regarded the rest. “And I thank you all. There is much good in Equestria. And for that there is much reason to fight for it.”                  The act couldn’t help but make Twilight stare at her own piece of jewelry—the one she had honestly forgotten still dangled freely around her neck. From there she found each one of her other friends doing almost close to the same thing with their own pieces. Now she knew what she would wear until the very end.                  Creeeeak!                  The front of the hedge maze parted down the middle and slowly drifted out. In the hushed tones of the night it sounded completely wretched—like rusted bits of old machinery. Or had that only been Discord’s sound of choice?                  “Our hour must be up,” Twilight muttered flatly. She peered up at Luna. “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”                  Luna only nodded and began the short trek to the maze. Soon after Twilight followed.                  “This still isn’t right!” Rainbow shouted somewhere from behind them.                  Applejack answered back, “Shush now! This isn’t the time.”                  Twilight didn’t turn to face them again. If she did she knew she would be lost. If she stopped moving at all, she thought she might be lost as well. So towards the darkened interior of the maze she trotted—its towering hedges never appearing as foreboding as on that dark, dark night.                  Into the dimness beyond the large swinging entrance Luna crossed followed by Twilight. When she finally came to a halt inside she heard the doors start their steady trip back inward. She would not face her friends one last time—it would only be cruel. Not while a pair of immovable doors closed her off from the rest of Equestria.                  Then came the sounds. One of her friends was roughly nudged aside; another friend exclaimed something just out of earshot. The only thing she made out was Rarity’s higher-pitched exclamation: “Rainbow! What are you—” But that was when the doors behind them shut tight, and all noise suddenly vanished from the world                  All except for the rapid breathing of a pony. But Luna would never be this scared, she thought distantly. Not now. Not ever.                  In the dimness of the maze Twilight turned to find the panting face of Rainbow Dash, sternly glaring at whatever the alicorn would expel at her.                  Twilight only screamed while she galloped into her, pinning her shaken friend to the uneven hedge wall. “Rainbow, what are you doing! I already told you not to come in here!” Already she could glimpse the mask her friend tried to keep over her face—the tough exterior as well as the frightened interior. Deflated, she removed her from the wall. To Luna she said, “We need to get her out of here. We need to get her out right now.” Luna only nodded, before she pointed her horn at the mangled flyer. Rainbow shut her eyes but opened them when nothing came of it. Luna said softly, “I don’t think he will allow her to leave. She is wholly inside his game now. What magic we can use is now up to him.”                  Twilight pleaded with her friend, shaking her head from side to side. “Why? Why, Rainbow, why? Don’t you understand I was only trying to protect you? You didn’t need to do this!”                  Rainbow grinned faintly. “But I needed to do this, maybe to prove something to myself. But none of that matters anymore. I’m in your game now, Twilight. And I’ve never been one that liked to lose.”                  “But—” Twilight began, before a terrible shriek of electrical static filled their dark space.                  “Welcome ladies, to the final game!” Discord trumpeted through some well-hidden speaker. “I, your gracious Lord Discord, will be your host! So let’s get some lights in here!”                  Three circles of blasting yellow light found each mare at the entrance. They all shielded their eyes while trying to find the source of the voice.                  “Show yourself, Discord!” Luna yelled. “These theatrics are only meant to stall!”                  A forth glowing light flashed onto a tall hedge just in front of them. A moment later, a crude puppet on strings fell to its immediate center—a crude Discord puppet. The mouth barely matched its words. “Oh my! This isn’t good. Have you already broken one of my rules, ladies?”                  Twilight stepped forward. “You haven’t even made any rules yet!”                  “About that you are correct,” mouthed the puppet, “but perhaps this one was your rule, Twilight. Let’s see if my numbers match up: one alicorn, two alicorns, and something resembling a pegasus? I don’t remember including her on the guest list!”                  “Then let her leave the game, Discord,” Luna added. “Your fight is still just with us—Twilight and I.”                  The Discord puppet swung awkwardly from right to left. It might have been a mock attempt at shaking its head. “No. No, I don’t think so. I think I can work with this. I will let her stay, since she seems so desperate to do so.” The puppet lunged passed Twilight and hovered a few inches from Rainbow’s head. “Don’t you?”                  With a hoof Rainbow tried to knock the chunk of paint and wood aside, but in an instant it was back to the wall of the well-lit hedge. “Here are the rules, players. There will not be many, so pay attention. Firstly, to win, you only need to reach the center of this maze. But only if all three of you make it there. If anyone cheats… or gives up the game… then I win.”                  “You plan on taking away our horns and wings like you did with Fluttershy and Trixie?” Twilight shouted.                  The puppet performed a full body shake again. “No. You may keep your gifts. They will not be of any use to you, unless I let them. But now I think we are wasting too much precious time… and I am already growing bored. Prepare yourselves.”                  All three mares unknowingly lowered to the ground, ears flat on their heads. When the considerable overhead lights noisily clicked off, Twilight took a sudden intake of breath, all the while trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom of the maze.                  “One more thing,” Discord chuckled over his speaker, “before you think I’m going soft on you all, this won’t be a team game. I don’t think that would be rightly fair. So that means you’re each going to be playing… alone.”                  Twilight turned to peer at her friends. But only a moment later did the snap of fingers send them all away.   3   “Come face me you traitor!”                  For what felt close to an hour, Luna had been circling the winding maze. Each corner she took only fed into more dark green hedges—each turn she made only caused her to lose what little bearings she had. More important than that, though, was each wrong move only made her all the more anxious. She wanted to find her sister’s killer. That night she wanted to see justice prevail.                  “Discord!” she shouted, while shooting a cone of light from her horn. The wall of bush in front of her charred brightly before revealing a gapping, makeshift gap. Instantly she trotted through, honestly surprised the draconequus made of tricks and riddles would allow such a large error in his game. Walls that could be broken? she mused. What else could be used against him?                  Once she’d found only more paths leading in opposite directions, Luna rose into the air and past the overlong walls, ones that had only served to help spin her around. Ten feet up. Twelve. Discord had never said anything about flying above the maze, she thought. His error could only be her gain. Fourteen. Eighteen. Only now did the sky turn green.                  Instantly Luna felt disoriented. She glimpsed the ground to help. The only thing there was the pitch black expanse of sky, onward and forever. Somewhere along her hurried flight she had been turned upside down, and now it was clear why Discord allowed the two of them to keep their wings.                  They had never been meant to climb above these walls. Destroy them in search of the maze’s center? It was possible, but in the long run did it actually mean all that much? Especially if walls could be erected and moved with just the snapping of fingers?                  Luna landed in a huff and shut her eyes from the tiny dots in her vision. She gave herself a moment before continuing on.                  “You’re a coward, Discord!” she yelled.                  Only that was right before she saw the shape of someone out of the corner of her eye.   4   It was odd how at peace Rainbow Dash felt once alone inside the maze. Nimbly she trotted from one end of the path to the next, unaware of just what choices her next turn would cause. She remembered the last time she had played such a game—the only other time in her life when she had been flightless.                  She knew she should have been worried—that this new Discord meant business of the most depressing of degrees. Yet somehow she just couldn’t feel that way.                  She had no one else to blame for joining the game. She was helping her friends—and all of Equestria for that matter. To her it was simply the way things were supposed to be, or the closest form of it.                  Even when Twilight had summoned them all to her old Castle it had never quite seemed as familiar as this. To her it felt as if her alicorn friend had only wanted them to tag along while she went off to save the day—get her book and then blast the draconequus into some tiny hill of dust. So what would have happened to the five others once Twilight had finished? Would life merely continue on in its mundane way? Rainbow hadn’t liked the sound of that. She had things to prove. She had opinions to quell. Mostly her own.                  “What…?” she whispered.                  During her long, circling search, the only sound keeping company with the flightless pegasus was the noise of crisp grass underhoof, as well as the gentle wind as it blew along the tips of the maze’s immense crisscrossing walls. Only now a different noise altogether cut into the void, something queerly familiar. Yet such a noise had no place in a maze.                  Rainbow followed the noise down a new path before finding it weakening. Retreating, she tried a new fork in the road, only for the sound to grow. One single left turn gave her the answer she had been looking for… as well as a dozen questions more.                  At the very end of a narrow path had been placed a wooden door plainly cut into the wall. The top half was frosted glass and read “ROOM 334” in thick block letters. Even from such a distance she could hear what was inside. But still she had to be certain.                  Rainbow trotted closer and the sounds increased and differentiated. The conversation of a pair of ponies swam to her—airy and excited. The scrape of quill on parchment came next; the creak of a chair roughly pulled out; the quick rub of a pair of wings repeatedly folded and opened.                  She stopped a few feet from the door, eyeing up its polished gold handle. It was a door she did not want to open, as much as her curiosity might have wanted her to. Only her path backward had been blocked.     A large hedge had been created while she stood transfixed on the door. And now it seemed to be pressing into her. Inch by inch. Silent and ominous. Inch by inch. The dark sky up above carefully being swept aside. Inch by inch.     It appeared she had no where else to go but in.   5   “…thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven…”                  Twilight had her face pointed down at her hooves, each step onward ticking away in her head. To her calculations she then added each step, pinpointing just where she was inside the wide, wide maze.                  It had only been a few years after Discord’s first game that Twilight had asked Celestia for a map of the Canterlot maze. Using a series of calculations she uncovered a secret system that if used correctly, would always lead the user to its center with minimal effort. The only question was if Discord had changed the maze to his liking while he set up his game. Yet only with a brief hour of notice…                  “…forty-five, forty-six…”                  Twilight took a left.                  “…fifty-two, fifty-three…”                  Twilight took a right.                  Along with the darkness of the night and the steady pattern of hoof raising and lowering, it caused the alicorn to nearly march along in autopilot. The calculations in her head would continue on regardless—she’d need to concentrate with just enough force. The only thing she needed to be mindful of was any changes to her surroundings.                  “Huh?”                  Her latest step on grass hadn’t wielded the satisfying crunch of fresh earth as the others. This latest one barely made a sound at all. Plus didn’t this material look a whole lot softer than the ground she’d been trampling before?                  “Hello, Twilight.”                  She jerked awake from the voice, not right away noticing just how lovely it had sounded. Not at all had it been the high-pitched, laughter-soaked timbre of Discord’s, but rather a far more genuine calling.                  “Mom?” she asked the mare that looked like her mother.                  Is my mother, she thought. Isn’t my mother! she thought again.                  Since stepping on the first substance much more pliable than grass, Twilight peered around and found herself in the entrance of her old home. In front of a roaring fire was her mother, Twilight Velvet, seated pleasantly on their couch. The interior was unjustly dark, and any windows that used to exist had been removed, yet at the moment it all seemed fine. Her very own mother was smiling at her, so how could it not be fine? Her mother had always loved her and cared for her, so why did she feel as nervous as she did?                  Next came her father, exiting a door behind the couch that fed into their kitchen. That same smile as her mother’s brightening his face. “We’re so happy you’ve come back, Twilight. It’s been so long since you’ve visited.”                  Twilight shook her head in the corner of the room, unnoticing of the disappearance of the door that had allowed her entrance. “You can’t be here. You’re not my parents. You’re just a trick and nothing more.”                  Her mother busily curled up on the couch only regarded her pleasantly. “We can be whatever you want us to be, Twilight. We only want to talk. It’s been so long since you’ve visited. It’s almost felt as though you didn’t want to see us anymore.”                  Twilight took a tentative step into the room. “I meant to visit… really, I did. But, things…” Then some large ticking noise pulled her from her rambling plight; every sudden snap of sound only increasing in its fury. At least it got her mind back on track. “But that doesn’t matter anyway. You’re not who you say you are. You’re just a representation of them. That’s all.”                  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Twilight,” her mother told her, as that first bit of pain entered her caring face. Finally she turned away from Twilight and to the wall facing the couch, where the source of all that damn ticking noise had arisen.                  Twilight followed her mother’s gaze and came upon something that had no business in their home. Above the fireplace—and far bigger than anything else in the room—hanged a clock of silver and black. It had six markers instead of twelve. Each tock of the second hand sent the larger one ahead far speedier than any normal clock should. If Twilight had to guess, that clock would only deal with six minutes per full rotation. And already the second hand was about to reach its end.                  Again her mother peered at her. “It looks like it’s almost time, Twilight.”   6   For too long the shape had been avoiding her.                  Every turn in the maze should have sealed its fate. Every thunderous gallop from the dark-blue alicorn should have caught up with the creature most assuredly, yet every turn she made only allowed her a brief glimpse of her target.                  All she knew was that it was large and it was white. All she knew was that she wanted to catch it more than anything else at the time—perhaps to prove to Discord that his game could be bested.                  In rage Luna growled as she lost her balance rounding the latest corner, painfully scraping against the edge of another leafy wall. Still she galloped on. Even when her breath tasted close to burning coal did she continue her pursuit. One more turn, she told herself. Just one more. Just—                  “What?” she whispered, in-between gasps of air. “It can’t be. You can’t be.”                  The last corner gave way to the creature that had concealed itself for so long. Only now did Luna wish she had just let her run, and had never chased after.                  “Celestia?”                  Before a large field of lush grass and vast trees stood the Princess of the Sun. Her hair blew in an unseen breeze and she viewed her sister wearily. A moment later she gave her back to her and trotted to the center of the open land, where under a wide elm a small picnic had been arranged. As she strolled, the sun rose from the horizon, deftly cutting out the constant chill in the air.                  Timidly Luna approached the new area, eyes busily searching every nook and cranny for a certain draconequus. We mustn’t believe a thing, she thought rhythmically. We mustn’t believe a single thing.                  “He will not find you here, Luna,” Celestia said, as she sat on the edge of a flattened blanket. She sipped on a steaming cup of tea. “He does not know of this place. He will not bother us here.”                  Luna came closer, still far from the shade of the large elm her sister had seated herself under. She said to her, “You aren’t my sister. My sister is dead and you are nothing but an illusion. A great travesty that should never have occurred.” Already a lump had formed in her throat, giving an edge to her voice.                  “I may not be Celestia, my dear sister,” the shape said, “but why does that need to change a thing? Why can you not enjoy my presence while it is being so pleasantly offered? Have you not missed me while I’ve been gone?”                  The shape that took Celestia’s form pushed a small cup of tea towards her. She viewed her tiredly, longingly.                  For the briefest of moments Luna pondered actually taking that cup and sitting next to her sister. But in no way could that have been the real her. Nothing could be. And now that feeling of being pulled in two painful directions at once was making her eyes water.                  When Luna did not approach or engage with it, the shape continued regardless. “I rather like the new Equestria. Ponies have never seemed as happy as now. That’s all I ever truly wanted, Luna. I only wanted what was best for my subjects. Do you honestly want to destroy what little happiness they’ve found for themselves?”                  “Save your words,” Luna shot back thickly. “You are a forgery and a bad one at that. I can never believe a word that you say and you are only wasting your time. Celestia is dead and that cannot be changed.”                  The shape’s eyes lit up. “And what makes you say that?”   7   Three dozen pegasi sat patiently before her. More than a few had matching Wonderbolts jackets and even more than that appeared almost on the edge of ecstasy once Rainbow Dash entered the room.                  As she viewed each over in turn a lull befell the large classroom and Rainbow stepped awkwardly to the panel set up at the front. A series of notes had already been prepared for her—bullet points and diagrams at the ready. It was about flight and she knew it front to back. Had this been the lesson plan she had been practicing from before? When she had bailed out on Soarin at the last minute?                  She couldn’t honestly recall.                  “We love you, Rainbow Dash!” some mare in the upper corner shouted.                  “You’re the greatest Wonderbolt ever!” another added joyously.                  Rainbow couldn’t help but smile as she shuffled her cards. The notion of how—or just why—she had gotten to that particular place on that fateful night somehow slipping from mind.                  After examining her first card she tossed it aside. These facts she had memorized some time ago.                  “They first thing we’re going to cover is wingspan compared to aerodynamics,” she said studiously, as she pointed to a labeled diagram on the board. “When one wing is fully stretched, it allows greater maneuverability around tight corners. When both are open to their fullest, it allows—”                  “Are we going to be getting examples to all this?”                  An unseen voice from the room.                  Rainbow turned from the board. “Who asked that?”                  A yellow mare with orange at the tips of her mane stood up from the thick of them. She appeared tired and something more. Pained?                  “I did,” the mare said in a strong tone. “If you’re supposed to be teaching us about flying, then are we going to be getting a demonstration? Or is this gonna be nothing but note-taking from you?”                  Rainbow returned to her little panel to review her cards. “Well… I…” she started, before something much larger came to mind. “Spitfire?”                  The mare standing above the crowd wobbled from side to side. A thin trickle of something red escaped her mouth. It didn’t stop her from talking. “Why would we ever take lessons from a Wonderbolt that can’t even fly? Is this some joke? Because I’m having a hard time finding it funny.”                  “She’s right!”                  “Yeah! How does that make any sense?”                  More than a few voice added to the deceased mare’s chorus. Rainbow, meanwhile, could only back away from each nasty taunt until she collided with the board behind her. The gentle squeak of a door told her an exit had been made from where she’d first entered, so before anything more could be said, she ran from the room as fast as she could.   8   It was the most horrifying thing she had ever seen in her life, and as much as she had wanted to look away from it all she found it nearly impossible. She cared for them too much; she wanted to help them that bad.                  With untold anxiety Twilight watched as the odd clock on the wall concluded its first minute, before turning back to her mother on the couch. She had thought the clock’s original ticks and tocks were as loud as things could get, but the shrieking bang that accompanied the passing sixty-seconds sent more than shivers up her spine.                  Barely noticing what was happening to her, Twilight Velvet viewed her daughter, as deep wrinkles formed around her eyes and forehead; as new stripes of grey cascaded down her mane. Desperately, Twilight watched as nearly the same thing befell her father, who was still hovering near the entrance to their kitchen.                  Twilight screamed, “What’s going on! What’s happening to you?”                  That loving smile never left her mother’s slumping face. “We’re aging, Twilight. Just as any normal creature is meant to do. Only your father and I are doing it much faster than most.”                  “But…” she stumbled out. “But why?”                  “You’re an alicorn, sweetie. Everyone around you will age—everyone around you will expire before you’ll ever possibly be able to let them go. Soon, perhaps in a thousand years or more, you’ll view the passage of time as quickly as it’s happening right now. Time will only quicken for you, Twilight. It will never halter—it will never slow.” Her mother turned back to the clock. “Another minute; another decade.”                  The overwhelming chime of the clock as it completed another loop.                  Twilight’s eyes filled with tears as another ten years took its miserable toll on her parents.                  “Please stop!” she wailed. “I don’t want to see this!”                  Even in her new frailty did her mother regard her openly. “It doesn’t hurt, Twilight. It’s only natural. It’s only what life intended for us all. And it will only seem all the fleeting, the longer you live.”                  The never-ending ticking that filled every inch of the room increased its momentum. Twilight yelled in anguish while she blasted a bright beam at the oversized clock, only to find it hardly scratched by her efforts.                  “Just know that we love you, Twilight,” her mother said, as that lively glow from her eyes slowly ebbed away. “It’s only sad that we’ll never get to see you again, even in the next life.”                  Since Twilight couldn’t bear to watch her aging parents for one more second she leapt onto the source of her new found misery. With shaky hooves she latched onto the hurrying clock; beads of sweat standing on her brow as she tried to rip it all down. When the last minute came and went with thunderous pronouncement she fell to the carpeted floor, with what remained of the shattered mechanism still held in her hooves.                  In the absence of the clock the room was far too silent.                  “Oh why…” she murmured, before she collapsed to the floor in a heap of anguish.                  All that remained of her mother was a hill of dust near a pillow on the couch. She didn’t need to view the entrance to the kitchen to properly learn what had become of her father, too.                  Twilight knew it wasn’t real. She knew her parents had never been brought into the game. But that still didn’t change the fact that everything her mother had told her had been right. And yet there was still nothing that could change the fact.                  Minutes later a somber voice from a new door stirred her from her sorrow.                  “We should talk, Twilight,” he said.