Lucidity

by Indulgence

Curtain Call

Nothingness: not just darkness but blindness, not merely silence but deafness, in all an absolute sensory absence, the antithesis therefore to all the sweet fruits which lay beyond it. Into this world (or lack of it) stepped a light, distant and indistinct but nonetheless seeming as a flame, burning bright and loud against its background. Although far off in the distance and the view of it constricted, as if its inferno stood at the end of a long tube or tunnel, it gradually grew closer, growing ever harsher as it approached. It also accelerated, growing ever faster as it closed the distance, becoming the speeding headlamp of an oncoming train in transit, until it finally struck home. White hot pain came with it, roughly waking up all other senses as it bit deep into every nerve ending, puncture points pulsing as they were scorched by venomous barbs.

A gasp split the quiet, breaking the surface of the stormy sea, as her body found itself forcibly exhumed, rising up from the depths of its burial. Her lungs burned, left without the air they craved for so long that now they screamed against its return, and her muscles ached, each and every one as equally starved and therefore feeling as if they truly had been run over by a train. Iron and ozone jointly attacked her elsewhere, the former dug in as a stagnant pool on her palate (not much but pungent), whilst the latter lead a charge in assault against her nostrils. She was on her back she realised, feeling the dirty pit of the floor she lay on beneath her spine. Beyond this hole the patter of water fell against her ears, both as the low percussion against wooden slats and the twinkling tones of droplets against porcelain. Finally the leaden shutters of her eyelids discovered the strength to raise themselves, bringing her fully back into the world.

‘It’s okay Trixie, just breath.’

The voice was soft, coming to her tenderly in its reassurance from a purple face above, itself wrought by concern. With a little struggle against an inner soreness she allowed herself to obey its words, deep inhale begetting slow exhale in turn. Her pains still refused to dissipate but it did succeed in calming her.

‘I’m so sorry.’

She barely heard the apology, her head and mind within it beginning to drift in its fatigued state, tiredness beating her battered being on all sides. Before her a set of violet irises (a mirror to her own) held her tight, whilst a similarly shaded aura engulfed their owner’s horn, moving to paint its hue across her vision as it blanketed her being. She was afloat, weightless at once, but too drained to resist the telekinetic embrace which held her, even if she had wanted to. Through the comforting purple haze the last thing she saw was a brief snapshot of her home’s inner decrepitude, before in a burst of energy it was lost to a chaotic flux of colours, leaving only the unmoving reassurance of the solemn yet caring face looking down on her.

‘It’s going to be okay, I promise.’

---

A loosely blanketed shape rose and fell to the sound of heavy breathing, the bed’s new and first occupant having instinctively curled herself up into a ball as soon as she had been gently placed within it. The cleanly shimmering silver stands of a washed and yet uncombed mane splayed out across the pillows, the blue unicorn’s head the only thing left partially visible beyond her cocoon. Her face remained inclined away and tucked into the covers, disguising its features, leaving only a gauze collar of bandages wrapped around her neck on show beneath her halo. Despite their presence though she slumbered peacefully, the dual sedatives of exhaustion and light painkillers forcing the thick balm of sleep upon her, whilst at the same time dulling any pains she had had.

‘We should leave her to her rest.’

Twilight nodded along her affirmation, joining Doctor Stable as he receded back out of the tower’s guest room, laying just a few steps away from the doorway to her own. She let her magic close the door behind them, allowing herself a final reviewing glance to the bed, and then turned to address the golden brown unicorn. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

Stable’s glasses levitated from his muzzle, a handkerchief appearing from one of his white lab coat’s innumerable pockets to clean their lenses, as he considered the question. ‘I can only answer in terms of her physical well-being, everything else lies beyond my professional expertise’ he began. ‘The noose cut in pretty deep, so although the wounds should heal quite quickly in time without issue, she’ll likely have some scarring in places. If she’s lucky these too will fade, but otherwise I’d suggest a scarf or cape to cover them.’ His glasses floated back into place before his cobalt blue eyes. ‘Ultimately she’s very lucky you got to her when you did, I am however no psychiatrist and there’s much more than just her neck which needs healing, so in spite of my better medical judgement it’s probably positive for her to be here.’

Twilight remained silent, listening intently, being granted only the faintest hint of relief as guilt remained her most prominent feeling, the demon’s accusations levelled against her still very present in her mind.

‘Of course she’s going to need to see somepony, but for now your being an ear to listen or a shoulder to support her, combined with the relative space and privacy of this place are going to be a massive help to her. You did good’ the doctor concluded, laying a forehoof on Twilight’s shoulder in assurance, as if he at least in part sensed the route of her thinking. ‘Now, I’ll see myself out and will be back tomorrow to see how she’s doing when she’s more lucid. For you however, I proscribe that you get to bed as well.’

‘Thanks doc.’ The purple alicorn nodded once more, as always appreciating the doctor’s down to earth nature which simply cut straight to the point, ignoring the nonsense of rank and title which made others prone to pointlessly insert a bow or ‘your majesty’ between every other word. She watched him depart, a wide yawn forming across her lips (unsurprising as the tacit prognosis of her own considerable tiredness was correct), and then turned away to her own little room. Ignoring the mass of papers that remained she collapsed straight into her bed, rolling the covers around herself. Sleep, although slow in coming, held just beyond her reach by pressures both new and old playing on her mind, gradually found her and she slipped into its recesses, in part wondering what awaited her on the other side.