Smells Like Christmas Morning

by AppleTank

1) Requiem of the Bells

1) Requiem of the Bells

Halloween. They call it Nightmare Night here. Ironically, its quieter during this season. As the clock passed midnight, it’s almost as if an aura of calm passes over this universe. I could actually dematerialize my ship form Outside without worrying about something ambushing me. Despite the mild weakening of the barriers of this universe as they celebrate this holiday, it also weakens them. By them, I mean all who dwell within the Void, the space between the worlds: destroyers and guardians. It isn’t as empty as one may think. I’m one of them too, though I sometimes question whether I deserve to be in their ranks or to be put down...

The creatures of the void all share a thing in common: our fuel. We all live off of imaginational energy, which leaks Outside from every universe with sentient beings. The void is filled with it, so we can survive just fine off of it alone. Our main differences are our way of birth. One is most commonly born through stories of heroes and leaders. These are the guardians I mentioned. The others are born from the fear and hatred of tyrants and monsters. Imaginational energy is not something easily controlled, especially when the rest of the Outside is filled with it waiting to take a form. Horrid creatures always seem to outnumber the heros, and take much less effort to form. The main reason we survive is like comparing a shotgun to a sniper rifle. Less collateral, but more precise. Clearer minds to outsmart their brute, corrupted force. It is all we have against a never ending tide of mindless brutes seeking distressed energies like iron filings to a magnet.

Failure in not tolerated, especially when the threat of one of them gain intelligence looms constantly...

This is especially true of an annual, in a sense, mission, where hundreds of thousands of us participate in. One that happens about a month after Halloween or whatever the country has. When a good percentage of the nightmares get over their trepidation and get some of their strength back they charge en masse against the period of time with the most happy, feel good emotions. We are the only line of defense preventing armageddon from happening. The stability of the world must be held, and they cannot be allowed to break through.

The loss of a universe means we have to force a reset on everything, including ourselves. Failure is not an option.

Many guardians think it is a way to protect their homelands or birthplace after they have ascended to demigod status. Their eternal champion. Maybe even get some bragging rights. A noble sentiment, and one I understand.

But, it is a position I can’t comprehend. I think of it as a suicide mission. There’s no value for putting so much commitment into something so ephemeral, especially in an environment fraught with danger. Out of everyone who participates, about half won’t make it out. Part of the reason why this is used to count out cycles, or ages.

I take steps to ensure I am in the half that survives. Even if a bit escapes, the damage is almost always minimal enough to cause negligible effects in universe, and quickly deleted. The percentage of escapees is always small enough that even the heavy hitters cause little enough damage that a only a local reset is necessary once they are taken care of. The inhabitants may feel temporarily nauseous, but even that soon passes, forgotten when the timeline is rerailed.

I do enough to keep the front line the front line. If they want to get top score, let them. It would mean less coming to me. The courageous and the brave are often the first to die.

Time passes faster out here. Sometimes, I sneak into a world and masquerade as one of their own to prolong the wait. Sometimes, I wonder if I deserve this title.

Twenty Nine days later

A black coated earth pony yawned, bored eyes glancing at the sun streaming through the frost covered windows. He pushed the covers off of him and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hooves and observing the tips, valleys, and scratches across its surface. He glanced up when the owner of the building poked her head in, a happy smile washing over his features. “Good morning, Miss Sparkle. Thank you for letting me borrow your guest bed.”

Twilight stared at him for a moment, her face scrunched up in confusion, before a silent wave flew over her face, and replaced her look with one of friendly admonishment. “It’s already almost ten in the morning. Even I don’t sleep that long. Come on down, we still have some food Spike made that isn’t cold yet.”

The pair went down the stairs. Spike was in the kitchen, washing some plates.

“Spike,” Twilight called, “can you bring out some of the leftovers for our guest?”

Spike walked out of the kitchen, holding wet plates. “Wha-?”

Spike walked out of the kitchen holding a plate of cold waffles. “The waffles? They’re kinda cold and soggy, but seriously. You need to keep better sleeping schedules dude.”

The earth pony chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Spike. Thanks anyways.”

He sat down at the table while the other two went outside to buy some groceries for the rest of the week. The earth pony offered to sweep the floor while they were gone, and despite Twilight’s insistence that he was a guest, he won the argument.

He stopped chewing halfway through, and glanced blankly outside the window. Dust swirled under an unseen wind, gravitating towards his lowered hoof.

He looked down and the tiny mountain of dust under his hoof.

He swiped his hoof over the clean spot underneath his hoof.

He stared at the library walls for a moment. “I feel ... nothing,” he said. He shrugged and finished off the waffles, then placed the clean plates into the Twilight’s cabinets and walked outside.

He nodded at the returning librarian and the dragon perched on his back. “Morning, miss.”

“Morning!” she cheerfully replied as she walked past him into the library.

The black coated pony stood alone on the front steps of the library, slowly sweeping his gaze across the town. He chose a direction at random and walked through the fresh snowfall.

Let’s see, I’ve visited the market and town hall. I’ve seen all of the Elements’ dwellings. What else? He trotted randomly throughout the city, striving to make his day boring in order to drag out as long as possible. After walking laps around the town several times, he stopped at a random bistro and ordered a simple sandwich for his tongue to exercise on. The waiter walked in from the corner of his vision and then walked out. He groped for the sandwich with one hoof as he stared tiredly at the ponies outside, eventually finding it and shoving it into his mouth. It didn’t help his mental state very much.

He wiped a few crumbs off his face as he finished up and stepped outside. He slow panned his vision across the town square, trying to ignore the looming deadline. A flash of pink to his left made him freeze. Oh no. Did she sense me? Normally, he didn’t care about the other EoH’s presence, but after what he had to fix yesterday...

He pulled himself together and went through the snow, hiding his aura. Nopony paid any mind to him as he tunneled past them. He stopped outside the town limits, shuddering slightly inside the Whitetail woods. His brief moment of panic accidentally overclocked his internal rhythms as he struggled to reset his body to neutral. Out of the corner of his vision, a wooden cabin flickered. He grimaced as his mind automatically recalled a few thousand hours of memory.

“Ach! Ow!” He collapsed, taking deep, unnecessary breaths. “That shouldn’t have happened that easily...” He paused, and looked up into the sky, at tiny ripples similar to some of those that surrounded him.

He shook his head, and checked his internal clock. “Dang,” he said. “It’s starting.”

He sighed and turned around. Somehow he ended on the side of town furthest from the Everfree. It was a month after Nightmare Night, at least for the natives. He grumbled unhappy things under his breath and trudged back to Ponyville, taking effort to stick to side routes and alleys. He paused between two houses, surrounded by trash cans full of fallen snow. He looked around, making sure that there were no faces in sight.

Satisfied, he exhaled

His coat peeled off, flowing down beside him and becoming a dark brown duster. The fur around his limbs became matted, wet, then flowing, seeping into cracks beneath the skin, revealing dirty white bandages wrapped around his entire body. A gloved fist rose and wiggled its fingers. Metal ski goggles grew out of his face as his mane stretched and became a battered fishing hat. He pushed off from the ground, boots sinking into the snow. He---he4 3 #01101000 01100101

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I pushed off from the ground, stretching my fingers and shoving some snow away from my two feet. I sighed.

A month has passed and gone, and the bloody cycle will once again begin.