Touched

by Sunny


Before the Dawn

Hush now, little one. You need not struggle any longer. You have earned your rest. Lie here with me, and I shall tell you my story. There is time yet for one last tale.

Long ago, Equestria was not the peaceful land it is today. Before the Princesses, before Discord, darker things roamed free, and ponies huddled in their enclaves and feared the unknown. The great serpent may have caused mayhem, but in his own way, he protected the ponies, kept them safe from the worst that lurked beyond. Why? Many have wondered, but Chaos keeps his own counsel, even now. The Princesses took a more direct path, imprisoning all they could within Tartarus, where such could no longer harm their ponies.

We do not know how our kind came to be, only that we call darkness our ally and flee from the light. But you know that already. Perhaps you do not know what we say of the Nightmare, that she was one of us. The story varies from telling to telling, that the greatest of our kind defeated Luna, or seduced her, or simply stole in under cover of moonlight to take her unawares. They all agree with what came after. Celestia could not bring herself to destroy the demon her sister had become. And thus, the Nightmare was banished, and Luna was lost to history as Celestia mourned the sibling she thought gone forever.

Before the aborted eternal night, we had been beneath her notice. There were greater threats, beasts like Tirek, Jornrir the Black Wyrm, and Sombra. Each threatened to end Equestria if not confronted, and each was struck down in turn. We, though numerous indeed, did not merit her gaze.

Then we stole her sister from her, and she swore to purge us from Equestria. She personally led her Lightbringers as they swept across Equestria, and my ancient brothers and sisters became dust in their wake. Finally, she came upon the one responsible for the Nightmare, and unleashed the full power of her sun upon him, and thus scoured him from existence. At that, she returned to her palace, yet her Lightbringers persisted, standing firm against the darkness until our very existence became base superstition.

And now?

Now, most ponies think us creatures for campfire stories. They tell tales of haunts which lurk in shadowed forests and abandoned castles, waiting to feast upon the unwary. A few cast us as romantics, creatures of immortal passion, unaging and mysterious. I suppose such appeals to fillies just experiencing the first blossoms of maturity, who long for a passion at once dangerous yet sublime.

And a few...a very few ponies know the truth. That we are worse than all the tales say. That we revel in suffering, delight in agony, amuse ourselves with the tortured twitchings, the sobs of despair, the impotent horror as life is drained away. We find the greatest pleasure within the bliss of betrayal, of seeing one’s once friends, family, one’s mate confronted by the awful truth. What could equal the keening wail of a broken spirit? What sight could compare to the moment where a soul shattered? I can see him still as I stood over the body of our younger foal, raised my head, and leered at him with my ghastly, sanguine grin.

A lucky few become survivors, only briefly tasted by the darkness when it came to feed. Through luck, willpower, or unexpected salvation, they escaped being devoured. Most fled shivering to whatever sanctuary they could find, there to live out their days trying to deny, to forget, anything that did not require them to face the truth.

The rarest? They were those who would defy the darkness. Those heroes who stood firm and spit in its face. I was one such mare. I fought back. I joined the few remaining Lightbringers. They still serve beneath the Sun herself and bring her light into the deepest shadow to let its cleansing rays burn away that which could only wither beneath its light.

It was not to last. I was cocky, arrogant, and I let myself be lured into an ambush. I acquitted myself well, yet in the end I was subdued. Worse...I was turned. I know I could say what awoke that night was not me, was some demon in my flesh, but the words taste bitter. I cannot help but feel I should have been stronger. I should have resisted. I should have retained myself amidst the siren song calling to me amidst my suffering. It promised that once I gave in, the sweetest pleasure would be known to me, the darkness would lift, the suffering would end, and all I had to do was say yes.

Perhaps there is a pony out there who resisted. One who was Turned, yet remained true to themselves. I think perhaps Luna may have been, that some part of her struggled those long thousand years, never yielding until the Elements cleansed her of her curse. I...I was not. But then again, you know that. It is only through your sacrifice that I have regained myself. How many years spent chasing rumors of my presence? How many nights spent sleepless as you sought a way to free me? I would admire your persistence, yet all I can do is mourn. Why could you not have brought another? Somepony to distract me while you completed your task, rather than leaving yourself a sitting duck for me to strike with the spell unfinished. As is, you have bought me a few precious hours, yet no more. Already, I can feel the tendrils of darkness slithering from within the black stains upon my soul, waiting to wrap me in their embrace once more. I shall not allow it, my beloved daughter.

Your gift to me will not last forever. It does not need to. The time draws near, now. Celestia will wake soon, and with her comes the dawn. We will welcome it together, one last time, and when the first rays fall and sear me with their cleansing radiance, I shall join you in the eternity that comes after. In these final moments, I am a Lightbringer once more, and I have one last hunt before I earn my rest.