Bring Back the Night

by Mad Pancake

Turning

Our subjective protagonist shivered as she felt the warmth radiate from behind her, the light which accompanied it somehow making the formless ever-shifting blob of Darkness in front of her seem even deeper, like the—to her unknown—void between the stars in the night sky. Letting a slight groan as she stumbled up from her downed position, our subjective protagonist noticed she had started perspiration at some point. The facts began forming up in her mind—the Empress had sent for her.

Slowly, nearly tripping on her hooves she turned towards the Agent. It was a horrifying creature—no, a creature would be alive alive—that shifted between the uncanny valley of a pony-esque equine and a thing thing that should not exist. It was like fire and sunlight and plasma had been coiled into an equine mould and created. A magic most grand and cruel. Truly a fit for an Empress.

Swallowing dryness, our subjective protagonist glanced at its redwhitegold eyes before flinching away from the horrifying nothingpainmakeitstop and instead moved her focus to its frontal hooves. Suppressing a growl, she began to speak. Perhaps to the Empress, perhaps to it, perhaps to gather her courage to face her end.

“I’ve know you. I’ve seen you. You’re the being that lurks in the brightest corners, watching, waiting for somepony to slip and then take them away. I’ve heard the whispers about you. I’ve heard the mares in the bars and I’ve seen the colts locking their doors during the Designated Resting Time. You’ll take a pony for saying the wrong word, for walking the wrong side of the road. I didn’t believe it. I had thought you were but a tale colts say to their foals to scare them to bed. But your eyes…”

She drew a breath as she tried to make herself—body and voice—stop shaking.

“Equestria’s been dead for years now, I realise. Take me then, you don’t scare me. The Empress won’t tell me what I’m allowed to say! Not anymore. You’re gonna have to step out of the light and fight to drag me away. I’m done.”

Our subjective protagonist lowered herself to a fighting stance, the glow of her horn almost invisible in the light as it snorted silently, black smoke billowing from its nostrils as it took a half of a step forward. That’s when the Darkness behind her swarmed.

It felt like an eternity and an instant, as the black tendrils—as dark as the blob from whence they came—reached around her, swarming her vision and grabbing the thing in front of her. Had she known what an eclipse was, our subjective protagonist would have described the feeling which she felt as the tendrils touched the thing as if the midday summer sun had suddenly and without a warning eclipsed. As it was however, she merely stood there. Stunned that something—someone—somecorn to be specific, but that does not matter at the moment—with power rivalling—no overpowering the Empress’ agents existed.

She could merely look, as the Agent slowly extinguished. Like a dying flame, the thing’s brilliance died away as the tendrils gnawed away at it, leeching its light and life. Slowly, its light died and only embers remained. The fire and sunlight and plasma were gone. Only what little remained of Twilight Sparkle, the container of the Empress’ will was still standing.

Standing and slowly crumbling to dust.

Opening her eyes, and causing the eyelids to crumble away, she looked them—or perhaps at our subjective protagonist. Or the Darkness behind her. That, though, is not for us to know—and smiled. Our subjective protagonist blinked, and the remains crumbled away, into a pile of dust. She didn’t register the tendrils inching slowly away from the remains, as if paying their last respects.

A moment of silence passed, before she turned and faced the origin of the tendrils.