//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 - Antagonism // Story: Dreamlocked Chronicles // by Prane //------------------------------// Sunset Shimmer is many things. What’s surprising is that I am a lot of them myself. We’re both talented spellcasters, former students of Princess Celestia, and ponies pretty knowledgeable on all things arcane. We differ in our approach, though. While I rely on books to understand the nature of magical phenomena, Sunset excels in putting them into practice. I suppose you could say we’re making a good team together, she and I. How mistaken you would be. Sunset is a blatant liar hoping to exploit my fondness for the Princess and magical research. I believe that under a clever façade of goodwill she’s actually planning not to dethrone the Empress but take her place instead, most likely abusing the power of the Elements as she goes. Not on my watch! Trading one tyrant for another won’t do Equestria any good. Moreover, I don’t like the idea of somepony outsmarting me and getting away with it. On the other hoof, her cooking is divine. I have no idea how could I live without knowing such perfect symphony of sweet and sour tastiness. My minimalistic diet has always been about the basic set of nutrients mandatory to power up my brain and what little muscles I have, but this, this is a torrent of amazing looks, smells, and tastes conveniently wrapped in a single culinary experience. Color sorted, too! At this rate I’ll crown her myself if she keeps cooking for me like that. Ugh. My reasoning is despicable. “So, did you like it?” I cover my mouth to silence the arising burp. “I have a whole new level of respect for the rice now, thanks. Were culinary arts a part of the curriculum Princess Celestia had for you?” “Good one. You know how she hates cooking.” Actually, I did not know that. Noted. “No, these skills I picked during my time in Shanghay. Ponies there know how to eat well, and by ‘well’ I mean ‘a lot’. You ever been?” “Nope. I got as far as the Unicorn Range to the west, and Manehattan now, but I never had a chance to go abroad,” I reply. “Speaking of travelling, you’ve said you were out of Equestria when the Night has come. How did you find me?” “I had a hunch Celestia would take another student after me. She’s too much of a teacher at heart to do otherwise. So, first off I went to Canterlot and broke into her chambers.” Wonderful. My very first impression of Sunset was correct after all. She’s not only a liar, intending traitor to the nation, and unicorn obsessed with power but also a burglar. What a combination! I bet that by the end of our little chitchat I’ll learn that she considers squirrel taxidermy a good sport. “You broke into the Royal Castle right under their noses?” “Entering without permission is my forte, as you might have noticed, and sneaking through the gardens was like childhood all over again. Fun times,” she says. Her smile leaves me wondering if her concept of fun involves stuffing or needling. “As I was saying, I rummaged up some letters signed with your ever-so-faithful name. Then I discovered a whole cabinet filled to the brim with reports summarizing what you’ve learned each week, month, or semester. You’re a one crazy filly, you know that?” Can’t say I’m not, but that’s none of her business. I spent the first three months of my time here writing letters to the Princess, fully aware that a notebook was just a flimsy, one-way substitute for reaching out to her. It definitely helped me deal with the new reality back then, that’s for sure. For the record, I now limit myself to just three entries per week. “What did you do next?” Sunset leans over our research-dining table and picks out a small bottle from between salt and pepper. “I followed the Sapphire Blue trail. You’ve been using this ink forever, haven’t you? Each letter, each assignment, and you’re using it now.” She presents the bottom of the bottle. “Courtesy of Inks and Seats, I presume? Mr. Inkblot sends his greetings, by the way.” Wha—how? Come on, did she drag poor Mr. Inkblot into this? Did she intimidate him and forced to spill the beans on my whereabouts? He was the one who suggested Manehatten to me, sure, but he would never share that with anyone! Oh, she’s evil. She’s downright evil. She must be! Sunset plays the bottle between her hooves. “Too bad it’s not Tsavorite Green. You know, I’ve always enjoyed dropping by the old geezer despite his endless cynicism, or maybe because of that. Did you know he got himself a fat puffer? I swear, the beast’s greedier than me, especially when it comes to cheesecake,” she says, then draws a rectangle with the bottle. “The cake was that big. One bite, and it’s all gone.” Oh. Feeding aquatic life forms and supporting old ponies and their businesses must be what evil does these days. Now I’ve seen everything. “I asked him if he knew anything about Celestia’s newest pupil, and he was kind to tell me where you went. From then on it got easier. Manehattan has its size, but a combination of gentle inquiring, detection magic, and the fact that you’re a creature of habits led me straight to your doorstep.” “My windowsill, rather.” Sunset grins as she gets up, taking the dishes to the kitchen. “You’re not covering your tracks as well as you think, Twilight. We’re going to have to work on your subterfuge if we’re to form a working resistance. A for effort, though!” This is beyond unfair! Why can’t it be more like the books? It should all go from the clear distinction between the good guy and the bad to an inciting incident, followed by a sudden discovery or two and, most importantly, a heroic victory for the good guy—that’s me, by the way—complemented with the ultimate damnation of all things evil. Sunset is the bad element in this scenario, but why is she so supportive, so kind? Is she trying to put my vigilance to sleep by buttering me up? I don’t need her care. I don’t need anyone’s patronizing! She’s a good actress, I give her that, but I know the truth. I just have to wait for her to teach me everything she knows about getting into other ponies’ dreams. Such opportunity arises in the evening, after another fruitless hours of analyzing myths and legends. You have no idea how hard it is to separate the wheat of history from the chaff of fantasy when it comes to Star Swirl the Bearded. I’m a big fan, of course, and his remarkable deeds are the reason he’s my second favorite magic user, but the problem with such half-legendary figures is that you can never tell if they actually did what the sources claim. Really, if I could travel back in time I would catalogue all those so-called pivotal events in the Equestrian history. Sunset is sauntering around the table. “Ahem, so, you already know what the Dreamworld is. Now, for the spell you’ll need—” She stops and puts her tea away. “Sorry. I just realized I never thought of myself as a teacher, so please bear with me. It feels weird. Right. You know the components of the memory spell?” “Of course.” Spell components are words on which one has to focus during casting. For example, moving an object requires a word “move”. It doesn’t have to be vocalized, the important part is for the meaning of the word to appear in your mind. That’s why the kids’ magic is so unstable. They don’t see the difference between pushing, hurling, or launching which leads to catastrophic consequences their foalsitters have to deal with. Most of the spells are more complicated, like the memory one which requires the words “open”, “mind”, and finally “past”. “The formula here is very similar,” Sunset continues. “In the casting sequence, while you’d be focusing on the past, focus on the present instead. Add ‘sleep’ as an extra component in the end. Not in the beginning, mind you, or you’ll end up falling asleep before you’re done.” “So it goes like open-mind-present-sleep? What happens then? Will I awake at Les Doux Maregots?” “Quite likely. Your café is a symbolic representation of the state your mind goes through while switching between sleeping and dreamwalking. A point of entry, if you will, or open skylight as I like to think of it. The barriers between the Dreamworld and the real one are the thinnest there, which makes it the easiest way in or out,” Sunset says, then takes place by the wall. “Come on, give it a try.” I find myself a piece of the floor not occupied by book stacks. I need some space. Memorizing spell sequences is like choosing your paints for the arcane arts, but the real magic happens once you start swinging the brush. My horn, the catalyst for spellcasting starts to glow, surrounding itself with pale magenta mist. I open my mind to the invisible particles of magic around me. I feel this ocean bursting and bubbling with eldritch energy, just waiting to be ordered into proper spell patterns. Converging the streams at the tip of my horn comes natural to me, but it hasn’t been always like that. My first attempts were not as intuitive, more like imitative, based on what I’ve read about the recommended patterning for the spells. Then I got better, and by the time my cutie mark appeared I discovered that my special talent involved this magical intuition, so to speak. Most unicorns are natural with two or three spells. I aim to be such with them all. With the streams aligned I paint the sequence of ideas inside my mind. One, then another, then two more. Done, ready. I could cast the spell now, but I release the magic instead, allowing it to disperse. The streams return to their erratic flow, and the mist evaporates into thin air. Sunset claps her hooves. “Nice! You’re catching on quickly. I’m beginning to understand why Celestia chose you.” Awkward warmness rushes to my cheeks, bringing a feeling as sudden as it is useless. “Thanks. Learning new spells is something of a specialty of mine. Anything else I should know?” “With the dreamwalk spell you’ll find yourself as close to the contents of one’s mind as possible. You can use it for the purpose of participating in a dream, enhancing mental processing, planting an idea, or digging through memories.” “I see. Mental magic isn’t really my favorite branch, and the memory spell is pretty much all I know of it. I’m glad to see something else deriving from that one.” Sunset yawns like a hippo, then drinks up her tea. “Bringing back a memory is essentially dreaming of the past, is it not?” she says. “Class dismissed, I guess. I have a few exercises in mind if you’re interested, but not today. Today I’m hitting the hay.” I nod. “Sleep well, Sunset.” Showered and dried in just a tad over eighteen minutes, I climb into the bed as well. My soon-to-evicted roommate is already fast asleep. I’m pleased to see that she’s keeping her extremities to her half of the bed, laying with her back to the wall, hind legs clutched on the quilt, and her face nuzzled in of the three pillows. It would be so easy to disable her now, to make sure the Elements will never land in the wrong hooves… No. It wouldn’t get me the answers I need. First I have to find out what really happened between her and Princess Celestia. Perhaps she had something to do with her disappearance? Luckily for us both, if the memories are nothing but dreams of the past, I may as well do the investigation in my sleep. Resorting to breaking and entering feels bad for the whole two seconds, but in the end it’s just justice. Quite poetic, I’d say. I have no respect for scoundrels of her kind. Still, she cooks pretty darn well. Ugh, how is this my life?! * * * What are you really after, Sunset Shimmer? Hey, I think I know this place. Yes, this is definitely one of the hallways of the Royal Castle. Western wing, if I’m not mistaken? The scenery outside is slowly assembling itself from scattered chunks, and after a while it’s already clear that Sunset’s Dreamworld is nothing like my own. I had it all neat and ordered whereas in here everything feels erratic and inhospitable. I’m pretty sure the buildings are missing a piece of wall or roof here and there, and on the top of that, there are some blurred lights all over the cityscape. What are these for? I open a red glass window to see more. Canterlot is on fire. As far as the eye can see the city is wrapped in scarlet flames. Amber outbursts are consuming the streets below, and cracks in the walls are glowing with scorching power devouring the buildings from the inside. The architectural supremacy of Canterlot is no more, as if gigantic siege engines had come and conquered it. From each pile of rubble four dark pillars are growing upwards, like vertical edges of a wall-less cuboid. They resemble trees, but I can’t see their crowns due to the omnipresent smoke tickling my olfactory nerves. I cough out the smell of brimstone and close the window shut. Quite the subconscious you have in here, Sunset! No wonder my coffee boiled and the café went crazy when you showed up. I hate to admit it, but evil as she is, at least the Empress isn’t after mindless destruction. “Memories, memories. I want your memories, Sunset.” I commence my investigation from a red carpet, the only object in the hallway which retained its original color after everything else was tinted Sunset Shimmery. The Princess and I have walked it hundreds of times talking about the progress I’ve made, so if Sunset’s study path was at least somewhat similar to mine, she has to have some memories associated with this place. The air shivers, and a transparent silhouette of Sunset appears. A lost memory strand, perhaps? If this is some sort of projection of her mind, then maybe I can use the good old memory spell to bring it back. My horn glows all the same, and the streams of magic act alike, but it seems that casting in here is more difficult. Am I really aligning them, or just dreaming about it? I definitely need to find out if magic is transcendent between the realities. After I’m done with Sunset, that is. A single drop of lavender appears at the tip of my horn, then falls down leaving a trail like ink poured into a glass of water. The trail spreads in midair, grows into a circle and breaks out a purple tinted window suspended in the air right in front of me. The tremble that follows is a little unsettling, but I have no idea if it’s due to my investigation or the madness outside. I couldn’t care less, because what I see through the window takes all my troubles away. Princess Celestia enters the hallway, regal and imperious as ever. Even if she’s slightly ethereal—being a memory and all—it’s still great to see her after all this time. For a moment I consider jumping through the breach to get closer to her, to see her smile, to once again feel the touch of her coat, but something tells me that getting out wouldn’t be that easy. Instead, I watch Sunset joining the scene as she walks past the alicorn without even taking a glance at her. She appears much younger than the one I know, but still older than a first-year student. “Sunset Shimmer,” Celestia says. “I have heard that you’re not getting along well with the other students. We’ve talked about the fact that personal relationships—” “Personal relationships? Who needs anypony? The most important thing in life is to be the best.” “We’ve talked about friendship and its importance before, and we’ve discussed that you need to start opening yourself up to new friends. And remember that talk we had about humility?” Sunset snorts. “I remember how boring it was.” The breach closes, leaving me yet another thing I can add to Sunset’s list of offenses. Burning down the city is one thing, but shooting your mouth off to Princess Celestia like that? She’s gone too far. She doesn’t deserve to even think of herself as the protégée of MY mentor! Now that I know how digging through the memories works, I set off to my next destination: the library. My foalhood dreams return with all their force the moment I take a step into the aisle. With the soothing images of bookcases on both sides I’m almost tempted to abandon my investigation and start rearranging all these tomes as they should be. Red backs would go to the right, yellow to the left. Pocket editions would land closer to the entrance, for convenience, and hardcover ones down the aisle so that only true seekers of knowledge would find them. Oh, just who left you here, you poor thing? Before I can attend to the tome orphaned on the floor I spot a projection of Sunset. I want to open another window, but she disappears around the corner. I follow her, but then, at the edge of the History section she disappears again. Wait, is she going where I think she’s going? I hope not! She is, just my luck. She’s heading to the Dark Magic section. I stop in my tracks. Princess Celestia has explicitly stated that I am not allowed to enter this part of the library until further in my studies, so I obliged. I don’t feel it’s further now. Does non-physical entering counts? It feels like cheating to me, and I despise cheating in all forms. What if I enter, and the Princess finds out? Will she be angry at me? Will she give me extra homework, or just banish me straight to the magic kindergarten? Get it together, Twilight! You’re here with a noble intention of uncovering the truth! Pursuing the truth never got you into too much trouble, now did it? Just how difficult it is to push the doors saying “No Entry” and enter a room you’ve never been to before? Alright, I can do it. Gosh. I’m terribly sorry, Princess. If the library out there was a beautiful orchard, then this must be the least travelled path in the thickest of woods. The room has no windows, and only a couple of reddish candelabrums illuminate the deep crimson rows of books, many of which look strange. Sinister, even. I swear the one over there has its back incrusted with claws. Is it me or did they just move? And what’s with these jars, anyway? Graveyard dirt? Powdered bat wings? Oh, this is a bad place. A really bad place. With my every step the ghost of Sunset becomes more visible. She seems to be sitting atop a pile of transparent books. I break the window to the past again, and the floor shakes just like the last time. Is the castle under siege? No, the tremors are too coincidental. Perhaps I shouldn’t be overusing that spell, or any kind of magic while I’m here. “How dare you keep this kind of magic from me!” Sunset shouts at me. “You know that I’m ready for this, that I can be great!” Darn it, I placed my breach in the literal middle of the action. Well, no harm’s done, I’ll just keep running around to follow it. Here’s Sunset, and here’s Princess Celestia accompanied by two Royal Guards. Ouch, she looks upset. “You could be great. I thought I saw compassion and sincerity in you, but it was nothing but ambition. You’re being selfish, you need to step back and reflect.” “I’m selfish?” Sunset tosses a tome she was reading, but Princess Celestia blocks it with a field of magic. At the same time, she’s holding off her guards who seem as if they wanted to strike Sunset down as soon as possible. Now that’s the Royal Guard I remember! “That book right here says I could become as powerful as an alicorn princess. I could rule here. It’s selfish of you to keep me from my rightful place. I deserve to stand beside you and be your equal,” Sunset says with a menacing stare. “If not your better. Make me a princess.” “No. Being a princess must be earned,” Princess Celestia replies calmly. “I have been trying to teach you everything you need to know, but you’ve turned from it. Every time you say you ‘deserve’ to get something without the effort just proves to me that you are not ready.” She looks down, a saddened sigh escaping her lips. She then raises her head. “Sunset Shimmer, I am removing you from your position of my pupil. If we cannot get past this, your studies end here. You are welcome to stay in Canterlot, but you are no longer welcome in the castle.” “We’ll never get past this because you aren’t seeing how great I deserve to be. Is that really all you have to say to me?” “Yes. The guards will escort you out.” Sunset walks towards me as I look through the window and boy, isn’t her face terrifying. Just before the window closes, I see her eyes burning with scorn and hatred. “This is the biggest mistake you’ll make in your entire life.” Oh. Uh-oh. Gosh. All is clear to me now. At some point, Sunset rebelled against the Princess, then left Canterlot to seek the Elements of Harmony on her own, just like she described in that entry I’ve read. She may have used her silver tongue on me out there, but here, in such proximity to her mind and her memories it must be the truth. Also, the Elements can grant somepony the power of an alicorn princess? Thanks for leaving this crucial piece of information out, Sunset, and for giving me yet another reason I can’t let them fall into your greedy hooves. I leave the library, knowing that I need to confront Sunset here and now. I don’t stand a chance against her in real life, she’ll outdo me in magic, but here… perhaps here we’re not bound by the regular rules. If she was able to mess with my Dreamworld by using the power of her subconscious then I can do the same. I’ve grown tired of these reds and yellows anyway. Right around the corner I bump into something. “Hello, filly.” “Wah!” My heart, no, my whole body jumps a few good inches. There’s a faceless, tar-black stallion standing in front of me. I’d say he’s looking at me, but he has no eyes, or any other distinctive features for that matter, with only a thin slit in the place where his jaw should be. In his posture and overall blankness he resembles a fashion form used to hold dresses on display, only that he seems very much alive, yet expressionless. “Hello, filly.” “Uhm, are you talking to me? Who are—” “Hello, filly.” Alright, that’s officially beyond weird now. I take a step back, expecting a threat to arise, but nothing at all happens. Slowly, I make my way around the creature as he keeps watching me with a creepy, mouthless smile. He seems to be aware where I am despite having no visual processors, but if he had them I’m pretty sure he’d be devouring me with his stare. Down the hallway I go, double-checking if he isn’t following me. I take a glance outside the window to get a better view on the castle grounds. There’s the main courtyard, and a path leading towards a glowing dome. Yet another fire? No, it’s much too regular, but that’s definitely not a building either. If I remember well enough, there should be the entry to the sculpture garden there. Perhaps that’s where Sunset is hiding? I notice something strange. No, I must be seeing things. For a moment I was under the impression that one of those strange trees moved. I squint my eyes again, but they’re all unstirred. Come on, imagination, give me a break. It doesn’t take long to reach the dome, a shimmering field of gold standing out against the ruined scenery, though the smoke and occasional bursts of flame are making the walk rather bothersome. I take a step through. The place on the other side is unlike the rest of the Dreamworld, sheltered from fire and smoke, and filled with blissful serenity. Under a clear blue sky, a gentle breeze caresses my cheeks and causes the trees to rustle. Their trunks are as tall as the dome appeared from the outside, crowned with vivid red leaves which bring the time of early autumn to mind, while birds and furry critters are scurrying from one hollow to another. It’s just so peaceful in here. In the very center of this secret seclude, on an elevated platform of white stone there’s a splendid statue of Princess Celestia watching over the planet and covering it with her wings. I’ve been to the sculpture garden countless of times, but I don’t quite remember this particular one. The Princess was made looking at the landmass on which Equestria is located, with a gentle smile on her face which only adds to the sense of security which arose in my heart the moment I crossed the barrier. Sunset Shimmer is sauntering around the pedestal. She’s humming to herself as her broom sweeps the excess of grass and leaves from around the statue. The moment she notices me she puts the broom away and waves in a cheerful manner. “Hi there, Twilight! Didn’t expect to see you here,” she says, then points to a nearby table. “Come on in, take a seat. Would you care for a biscuit?” A silver tray with three and three quarters cream biscuits feels oddly enticing, true, but I’m not letting that fake hospitality deceive me. Sunset’s betrayed my mentor and she poses a danger to the entire pony nation, and this eye candy scenery will not help her. I set off to a slow walk towards her, looking around for any advantage I could use in the upcoming fight. Either she’s going down, or I am. “Save it,” I reply. “You don’t want the Elements of Harmony to restore the balance in Equestria. You seek them for your own personal gain, and you wanted to use me to get to them. Did you think I was stupid enough to fall for that?” “What are you talking about?” I conjure a purplish vision of Sunset shouting at the Princess just as I saw it earlier. The earth shakes all the same but I’m already used to it. In fact, perhaps a little quake to her psyche is what I need to make her talk! “You abused the relationship we share with the Princess to buy my trust, but I know the truth! I’ve read your diary!” The real Sunset waves the visions away, shattering them with her own magic. “Stop! You don’t understand! Just tell me, what exactly have you read?” “Your bold plan to take the throne of Equestria, that’s what! There was something about working on your own, leaving Canterlot, and how you supposedly deserve it all!” Sunset slumps down, her eyes squeezed shut over a grimace of pain twisting her face. She punches the ground several times, and with each hit the scenery changes a bit. The critters dash away to their nests, the breeze becomes strong enough to ruffle my forelock, and clouds began to appear all over the hitherto clear sky. Sunset lifts her head with resignation written all over her face. “That’s what I suspected. Darn it. I thought I’ve burned that part ages ago.” “Like you’re burning my whole city now? That’s what you dream about, right? All of Canterlot suffering while you sit in your cozy little garden eating biscuits? Choke on them!” I surround Sunset with another series of visions revolving around Princess Celestia. I shape each of the constructs to express sadness, disappointment, or even anger. Since there’s only that many faces I can remember from Sunset’s past, I fuel them with my own memories. As much as I’m ashamed to admit there have been some instances in which I didn’t exactly meet my teacher’s expectations or otherwise failed her, but they serve me well now. It doesn’t matter they aren’t about Sunset per se. They are all the same. The tremors are getting stronger. It’s alright, I need only a couple more visions before she will finally confess. No more lies! “You’re burning it all so you could erase your past!” “So I could escape it!” Sunset shouts back, struggling to hold against my visions of pain and regret. “Twilight, you have to believe me! I’m not cherishing it, I’m dreading it! What you see outside isn’t my wishful thinking. It’s my nightmare!” I take a halt in oppressing my enemy. What is the meaning of this? Is it just yet another ruse of her? I couldn’t be wrong in my assumptions, could I? The journal entry, the memories, all of this? It’s just… it’s just that my bubble was built of my dreams, of good things which my subconscious wants to make true. It didn’t occur to me that Sunset’s would be made of— The world around me quakes with a tenfold intensity than before, knocking me to the ground like a ragdoll. Ouch! It hurts, but should I be experiencing the pain for a body impact which happened only within my mind, thus technically not taking place at all? It feels real, that’s for sure, but a lightning splitting the sky reminds me this is no time for an academic discourse. The barrier surrounding the garden fades, and the dark scenery starts pouring itself in through the newly formed cracks, while the blue sky succumbs its hue to the clouds of thick smoke. The black columns seemed to have moved closer—I swear they weren’t there when I was entering the dome!—because right now the place is surrounded with a row not unlike a palisade. The two closest columns break, their lower halves inclining towards the ground and the upper mirroring their motion. When a large shape descends along them I realize these are no trees at all. These are legs. “Hello, filly.” I feel my eyes grow wide as a giant, faceless muzzle hangs over us with the slit of its smile resembling the one of a predator before a feast. Much like his smaller brother this one also just stands there, watching and not making a single move. He’s apparently more interested in Sunset, but that’s a rather paltry consolation, if you ask me. Crawling, Sunset takes a position by the pedestal. Her horn shimmers as she pulls the table and the chairs into a makeshift barricade, then she clenches onto the broom as if she was holding a halberd. I think she’s trying something more complex with her magic, but this time the opal mist disappears like a candle’s flame on a windy day. The black stallions burst out laughing at her attempt, their voices assaulting my earlobes with high-pitched shrieks. I’ve heard that sound before. It’s the voice of the nightmares. I get up and dash to Sunset. Her breath is erratic, she tries to cast the spell anew but her attempt withers yet again. Her voice is weak, drenched with whispers I can barely understand, but it doesn’t take a linguist or an expert on facial expressions to see that she’s frightened. “Sunset! Sunset, what is happening?” “I-I can’t cast myself out of here! My magic’s mostly fine, but the spell isn’t working!” “How is that possible?” “I don’t know! It bounces off some dark presence, and given the nightmares have surrounded this place, I think—” she pauses to steady her breathing, “—that the Empress is coming for us.” “No! There has to be a way out! Come on, let’s make our way to the café,” I say, getting up and ready to gallop, or skirmish if necessary. “You said getting out would be easier from there!” Sunset grabs my hoof, pulling me back behind the cover. “It’s no use in my bubble! She probably already knows there’s somepony capable of controlling this place, somepony from this chunk of the Dreamworld. If we could at least—” she looks up at the globe the alabaster alicorn is holding. “Wait, that’s the idea! You’re not technically from my dream, aren’t you? These aren’t your nightmares, maybe they won’t care about you. Cast the spell and get out of here!” “Who do you think you are, some kind of a hero? We’re getting out of this together!” Sunset smiles at me, she smiles that wonderfully skewed smile of hers. “Sorry, Twi, but this is my dream and I make the rules here. For the next ten seconds, at least,” she says, her horn once again wrapped with shimmering mist. “Just… please take care of my body out there. I hate being cold.” “No!” “Oh, and have fun tearing through my journal!” “Reading it was—” The magic releases into a bright flash which pulls me into the orb over my head. “—what got you into this mess… in the first place.” Sunset glances upwards but fails to cross my eyes. She raises the stick of her broom and bats the orb a few times, gesturing at her ear. The sound is muffled, but it’s definitely wood hitting the stone. For all I know, however, I am inside a bubble made of a pleasantly warm glass through which I can see the rest of the Dreamworld with ease, if a bit blurred. I guess this is a hideout not meant to be seen or heard from the outside. Then, in an outburst of black miasma, the Nocturnal Empress herself appears. Her form is well-known to me, but I have never seen her from up close. She looks even scarier in here than in the real world, with the edges of her silhouette distorted and seeping dark energy. Outfitted with a full battle armor resembling the one I saw on my brother, she also wears a helmet from under which her ethereal mane flows like a night’s sky reflected in a pond. The helmet doubles as a crown, apparently, its sharp spikes shooting upwards like a dread insignia of power, with silver touches here and there adding to her already regal posture. One could even tell she looks elegant if it wasn’t for the immensely fearsome demeanor she presents with her every step. She moves into the circle previously protected by the dome, baring her teeth in disdain. A couple of her pony-sized nightmares fall to the ground around her, bowing and spreading their claws in a welcoming gesture. She does not honor them with her attention, turning it to Sunset instead. “Kneel before thy Empress, child.” That voice! As sonorous as it is imperious, it’s coming from every direction at once, and every spoken word makes me cower. I should kneel before her. We must all kneel before her and pay our respects. No, Sunset, why are you getting up? Stay down, stupid! Don’t you know that we have to obey our Empress? Aren’t you afraid? A realization strikes me the moment my muzzle touches the glass, its warmth reaching my nostrils and spreading across my entire body in form of a shudder. I don’t actually think I should be kneeling, now do I? I don’t actually respect a leader who reigns with fear and violence. I have a right not to be scared! No! My mind rebels against this intended act of defiance. The Nocturnal Empress is the rightful leader of Equestria now, and it’s only fitting to look up to her. No, it is not! Sunset leaves the barricade. “I will not. I am not afraid of you!” she shouts. “You are not my Empress! I am and I will stay loyal to the true ruler of Equestria, Princess Celestia!” “DON’T SPEAK OF THAT NAME IN MY PRESENCE!” Even from this angle I can see Sunset smirking. “Oh, is it that easy to make you lose your self-control? Celestia. Celestia. Celes—” My heart cringes as the Empress sinks into the ground and reappears in front of Sunset. She takes a swing with her armored hoof. Sunset screams and falls, while the Dreamworld resurges with an echo of the brutal strike, causing something on the Canterlot cityscape to explode. The nightmares shriek in a perverted delight, knowing that the time of their feast is nigh. “Insolence,” the Empress says, placing a hoof at Sunset’s throat. She looks around, but turns her stare away from the statue of the Princess for some reason. “You thought you could arrange a sanctuary in your dreams to stay safe from me? From the one who gave you dreams in the first place?” she shouts. “Very well. I was looking forward to try a little something on a worthless creature like you.” Her horn begins to glow, shining like stars soaked in an inky blue aura of the night, and creating a puddle of darkness under Sunset. I can see the nightmares moving in excitement. I look up. The black stallions are all looking at the scene, their smiles getting unnaturally wide. “I shall now make a prison of your deepest desires and unspoken wishes. I shall guard it with your fears and concerns. You will fall into an eternal slumber because I demand it, and you will not awake until I have allowed it!” Sunset struggles for a breath. “Your... end will come, Night. Of that… I am certain.” With a furious roar the Empress kicks Sunset in the stomach, sending her just underneath my shelter. She’s not moving, and her eyes are closed. I can’t even tell if she’s still breathing, because deep blue cords shoot out from the puddle and wrap around her tail, limbs and neck. The drag her on the ground to sink her within the darkness below. “No!” I scream, punching the glass, but getting back nothing but pain to go along my tears. “NO!” When I thought the worst was already behind me an even more terrifying sight comes to my eyes. The big, faceless stallions explode into hundreds, no, thousands of nightmares which descend on Canterlot like locust, destroying everything in their wake. They’re causing the building to crumble, trees to wither, and flowers to die, sucking the energy from what Sunset’s mind has constructed in the Dreamworld. The Empress busts into a menacing laughter, equally frightful as it is mad. * * * I kick away the sheets, my breath coming in convulsive gasps. “Sunset! Wake up, Sunset Shimmer!” My frantic efforts to bring her back are in vain. “Sunset! Please!” Despite shaking her, shouting, and conjuring a source of light just over her face she is not waking up. As I raise her eyelids I feel my insides burning, as if something grabbed them with white-hot pincers and twisted them at least a hundred and eighty degrees. Sunset’s eyes, her once twinkly cyan eyes are covered with blackness similar to the one I saw just a moment ago. I can’t even distinguish the irises from pupils, for the eyeballs now resemble dark beads staring into nothingness. A lonely tear forms in the corner of her blackened eye. It gets bigger and heavier to the point I can almost see my reflection contained within. My imagination immediately associates it with the glass prison in which Sunset protected me. Me, the one who got her into this! If I hadn’t started messing around the Dreamworld, then maybe she— The tear slides over Sunset’s cheek and drips to the pillow below. I vent off my frustration on the bed once, then another five times, but each subsequent strike turns out weaker and less meaningful. “No! No! This isn’t fair! I promise you, Sunset, I will find a way to get you out of this! I will find… I will…” Tears of my own are quick to obscure my vision. First I’ve lost Princess Celestia, then Spike, and then Cadance went on a one suicide mission to the west. I’ve lost Shining Armor to the Empress, and now I’ve lost the only mare who was brave enough to make a stand against her! It’s all my fault. I was so fixated on the idea of Sunset being my enemy I didn’t even notice when I let jealousy cloud my judgment. I couldn’t stand the fact that Princess Celestia taught somepony else more than me, and that Sunset herself knew my mentor better than I did. I was distrustful. I wasn’t kind when I met her for the first time, or honest when she reached out her hoof to me as a friend. Now I see I lack these virtues, mostly because nopony seems to care about being noble anymore. The Empress surely knows the Elements of Harmony are a way of defeating her, so to keep us away from them she went as far as to dousing the very qualities they represent. Without the principles upon which Equestria used to stand, we’ve lost all hope and submitted to the nightmare she brought upon us. No more. I don’t know how, but I’m going to make sure nopony will ever repeat the mistake I’ve made. In the middle of the night I scream, warming my vocal cords in the rising anger. My horn flares enough to wash the entire room in bright light, and even the air itself starts circulating despite the closed windows. For a brief moment every single particle of magic I can reach aligns around me into a perfect pattern pulsating with a wish of vengeance. They dare not to oppose me. I hold the magic for as long as my lungs can sustain my breath, then release it and allow the darkness to veil the bedroom again. Then I only cry.