Void

Every night, it came to try and claim the princess.

It was a foul Nightmare that sought to harm the princess she’d sworn to protect until she gained the strength to defend the land from it. Or she herself fell to shadow. Every night it tried, and every night it ultimately failed.

As she waited for the night to come, she knew the hours that would soon be upon her would be different. The game was changing, and the Nightmare did not like it. She told herself that it wouldn’t be any different than the other nights, that all she had to do was hold it off until the sun’s rays would pierce through the murk. It was she always told herself, and it kept her nerves strong and her will stronger.

She allowed herself to relax, stretching the limbs of the doll’s body she had chosen been inhabiting for the last few years. The soon to fall darkness would signal the last time the young princess would slumber in her old chambers as, came morning, the young future regent would be whisked away to a new home—a safer home. The princess was leaving for a place where no Nightmare could ever hope to reach her, a place where she would be protected and watched by forces far more potent and holy than a simple guardian living inside a ragged pony doll with a strangely out of place notepad and quill.

Naturally, she felt pungent. Her whole existence up to that point had been solely for the young princess’ protection. It was the reason she had sworn the oath to never leave the future regent’s side so long as she needed it. Even if it was for just one more solitary night, her oath remained just as strong as the first day she had sworn it to the stars almost six years earlier. As long as she remained standing, she wouldn’t dither in the charge. She was a guardian, after all.

She looked out the window. Celestia’s sun was slowly setting. Soon, the dark would come, and with it, the Nightmare.

Darkness—not Luna’s blessed night that gave ponies and planet alike respite, but the black, cold, and empty void. She had no recollection of how long the void had existed or where it had come from. She’d heard rumors from a few of her kin ages ago that the void had existed before the known universe and the light, and that it would continue to exist long after the universe all but died out. She was inclined to agree.

The void, while representing the absence of warm, light, and life, would not be a malicious presence if it wasn’t for the fact that it served as the home to the Nightmare and its own kin; beings that stood opposite the guardians. Guardians and Nightmare had been engaged in eternal conflict since before the first form of mortal consciousness came into being. They were as older than history itself, and would likely remain in existence long after the void claimed even the primordial chaos that was the universe’s underlying matter. In that regard, she had some form of assurance; she was just as eternal as the void, yet, it was also a thought that filled her with endless dread. An eternity to grapple with an invincible, unknowable foe waited her… assuming she didn’t fall to shadow first.

The sun was starting to set.

The door to the small room slowly swung open. Cradled in the magic of her parents was a lavender filly unicorn that couldn’t have been older than six. The guardian could not move while waking eyes beheld her. If the Nightmare chose to attack now, she would be forced to watch helplessly as her life’s work was undone. Thankfully, the dark was predictable in its modus operandi. It would not attack until the last ray of sun vanished. It feared the light, even though the light could not destroy it. The light could scatter it to the winds and stop its movement temporarily, but the Nightmare would always come back in one way or another.

The Nightmare was not something meant for those of weak minds and wills. Only a select few could witness it as anything other than shadows dancing in your peripheral sight. As a guardian, she was among the ‘chosen’ who could witness the Nightmare in its full ungodly ‘glory’. What she faced on a nightly basis could send a lesser being into gibbering lunacy just by mere proximity. In truth, ignorance was a true blessing when it came to facing the Nightmares. After all, Nightmares haunted everything, entering when one was weakest and causing bad thoughts, bad memories, and ultimate bad choices. Madness was often the result of the Nightmare’s extended presence, and that was for those who could barely perceive it. Those who could perceive beyond the veil and truly witness it for what it was had it worse.

The first stars were starting to show as the sun slowly retreated, giving was to twilight.

Long ago, the princess of the night, Princess Luna, had personally stood against the Nightmares as a guardian; perhaps the most powerful one to ever exist. She had been among the few mortals to ever take up the mantle, and she had kept it up until the day of her ascension. After her crowning of ‘princess’, she had gained a new power no guardian had ever held before. She became a Dream Strider, and she used this new ability to combat the Nightmare. But even a god was still susceptible to the Nightmare, and it ultimate fed off her feelings of hate and envy aimed at her elder sibling, corrupting her into one of its minions. Her fall left the Nightmare unmatched, and had heralded the slow but steady downfall of the guardians. Though eternal, guardians could still be bound and corrupted. The Nightmare wasted no time in seeking and poisoning any guardian it came across.

There were so few of them now. They could not hope to combat the Nightmare as they once had. Their only hope now was the young princess whose destiny had yet to begin.

With the sun’s setting, the long shadow of the dark now crawled into the room like a pair of dusky tendrils seeking a neck to wring. The princess’ parents had left, the small light at the other end of the room barely enough to hold the dark at bay. As the moon rose in the horizon, she could feel the Nightmare’s power grow by the second. She had to stand ready to face it. She had to stand and protect the princess at all cost. Failure would mean unfathomable terror for all sentient minds in this and any other world in the known universe.

As the dark gained its foothold, the guardian could feel the very air chill. She willed the doll to rise just as the thickest of murk blanketed the room. The transformation was quick as every object became twisted by the gloom. Even the light flicked out of existence as the murk gained purchase. The waking could not see this, and in that regard they were blessed. They could not witness the twisting of their very surroundings into mockeries. Even the most innocent of objects took on a sinister form once it was shrouded in murk.

The Nightmare had arrived.

The guardian lifted the doll’s arm and concentrated. A shield of pure starlight materialized. On the other hoof of the plushy, a sword of sun’s fire formed. The light traveled only a short distance, the dark swallowing the rest. She retreated until she was standing right in front of the young princess’ slumbering form. She glanced back at the face of the future regent. She was in blissful slumberland, Morpheus’ sand still lingering in her eyes. The moon’s light protected the filly, and it would keep protecting her so long as she stood there.

The Nightmare’s form began to come together in the dark—a twisted, malformed, incomprehensible mess of writing and oily shadows and gaping abysses blacker than the blackest black hole. It made no sound that could be picked up by the princess, for she was still nothing but a filly unicorn. She was protected by a veil of mortal ignorance and moonlight. But the guardian was not so lucky. It heard the shrill and loud cry of the Nightmare—a sound so ungodly powerful and harrowing that it shook her to the core. It rattled the dolls ears in this reality, rattled the guardian’s auditory perception in her reality, and continued to exist in untold other realities, tormenting whatever form of sentience existed there. Even she realized its ‘cry’ was no cry, but a form of language that was incomprehensible to her physical being, yet could be understood thanks to what some mortals would call ‘genetic memory’. It was a language that predated the guardians, predated the light, may have even predated the void. The Nightmare was, after all, older than even the primordial chaos that gave rise to the universe. She fell on a knee and winced. Despite facing the Nightmare for a literal eternity, its ‘message’ never ceased to give her pause. It was not a threat; it was a horrible, unavoidable reality:

“The Nightmare cares not for your tiny eternal existence—It has existed beyond the protective blanket of the universe, before the earliest ancestors of mortality began oozing through their primordial tidal pools. It has seen minds far vaster and infinitely more implacable than theirs rise from nothing, blaze forth in glory among the stars for one brief age or many, and inevitably return to nothing as they are pulled kicking and screaming back into the abyss. When the spark of all existence has guttered out and not even a shadow of their memory remains, the Nightmare will remain forever after.”

The guardian stood and raised her tools of battle. One last glance up at the moon and she readied herself. The Nightmare crawled, slithered, and glided forward all at the same time. It had a goal, one she would not allow it to achieve. It may be eternal, may be omnipresent, may even be ultimate destined to claim all of existence, but in this one brief moment—little less than a mere speck of sand in the otherwise vast and unfathomable hourglass of time—she would make her stand. Even if she fell to shadow, she would make sure the Nightmare would forever remember who she was and who she had always been:

A guardian. Always a guardian. Forever a guardian.

Darkness gave way to light as Celestia raised her sun. The Nightmare gave one final screech as it was forced to retreat lest it be scattered to the winds and be forced to reconstruct itself. It had failed, and for the first time in its eternal existence, it cursed one particular name for it: the guardian.

The guardian was in the Nightmare’s clutches. Her very being had been dragged out of the doll, which now lay next to the filly princess’ face. Before she had been forcefully expelled and captured, she had used the last of her power to turn the doll into a shield, projecting just enough of a veil to keep the Nightmare at bay till the sun’s rise.

The guardian could feel her power drain as the Nightmare dragged her into its void. She had no idea what was in store for her, but knew that she would not come out of it. Her eternity would be spent trapped in a blackness without form, where she would most certainly waste away until all recollection of ever having even existed would leave her. But in this last moment of being, she could not help but smile. She had been victorious in her charge. Even better, the Nightmare continuously cursed her name. It was something it would not soon forget.

The guardian gazed at the young princess. She knew that someday, she would grow, she would make friends, and she would change everything. This princess would go on to ignite a power that would rival the Nightmare, bring back all that had been lost thanks to the Nightmare’s taint, and set right what had once gone wrong. She would grow into a leader, would face down gods and demons, and would earn her place among the gods. She would bring balance, and would serve as the bane of all malice. She was magic incarnate, and the primordial fire of friendship that she had yet to ignite. But when she accomplished it, it would be a light that would shine so brightly that the Nightmare will have nowhere to hide from it.

Yes, the Nightmare had reason to be furious. Reason to be living, cursing in its incomprehensible language older than the oldest star, but beneath that fury, the guarding could sense something that she understood, something she had felt herself countless times but had once believed the Nightmare to be devoid of:

Fear.

The Nightmare knew what was in store for it, and it was afraid, perhaps for the first time in its infinite existence. The guardian knew what awaited her in the void. She knew she would never see the light again, but it did not matter to her anymore. She had won, even if it cost her very being.

The last thing the guardian saw as the void took hold over her being was the filly princess waking up. She yawned, stretched, and gave her doll a tight hug as her parents entered the room to greet her. It was a sight of pure joy that would serve the guardian in the dark existence that awaited her. But even then, she had no fear. Even though the Nightmare had claimed her, for one brief moment, it had proven that it too could feel dread. She looked forward to seeing just how much more fear the Nightmare could give, for it would soon find out just how much damage the mortals it looked down upon could cause it. The Nightmare may be eternal, but it could be held back, delayed, perhaps even contained. The princess had all that power, even if she did not know it yet.

Yes, the Nightmare had much to fear indeed. Its reign would soon be at an end. The sun was rising.

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Ryouga1100

Ryouga1100 #1 · Sep 7th, 2015 · 1 · ·

Very nicely done. I definitely feel that this was inspired by that drawing of a teddy with a wooden sword facing off against some bogy-man over a sleeping child.

Eskerata

Eskerata #2 · Sep 7th, 2015 · · ·

Good to see that you are still writing, buddy.

I liked this story, so it's upvoted.

Additional note: Well, I'm trying to upvote, but the button doesn't work.

Walabio

Walabio #3 · Sep 7th, 2015 · · ·

¡Bravo!

Ryouga1100

Ryouga1100 #4 · Sep 7th, 2015 · · ·

6401693 That's the fun little "won't show the first few votes" thing that got started a little while back. Just watch for the thumb to turn green or red and you'll do fine.