Darkened Shores

by Silver Flare

34: Daybreak

They'd been running for a couple of hours, and a painful stitch had just made itself at home in Twilight's side when she sensed a change in the air. They'd appeared out of a teleport, and she could hear a low tone resonating up through the black, oily-looking rocks and into the atmosphere. A blank sound that hung just below her range of hearing. She tasted copper on the back of her tongue. They were close.

The landscape looked much the same in every direction. The rim of the world stood dark against the stars, squeezing the sky into something small, crushing its sovereignty. But there was nothing to warn her friends when she slid to a stop, scattering loose stones before her. The other ponies stumbled, drawing themselves up short, panting for breath. Perhaps they hadn't sensed what she did. Luna cantered to a stop next to her, her head held tall and proud, her long horn sparkling beneath the last rays of the setting moon.

Her friends gathered at her sides, mute with expectancy. Twilight walked forward, stepping carefully despite there being nothing at all to see. She hardly dared to breathe, and she stretched her eyes wide until they hurt. It had to be here, somewhere. . .

Paws padded up from behind her, presaging the white wolf appearing at Twilight's shoulder, white coat gleaming in the starlight. From Twilight's other shoulder Luna hissed. “Circle. Await an opening.”

The wolf growled softly, then she launched herself off to the side, leaving a burst of grass bobbing gently in her wake. Twilight hardly noticed. She also scarcely noticed Dash flitting down to her hooves, rejoining the group. Her heart lurched with fear, but it was steadied by an undercurrent of wonder. She might learn more about the universe in the next few hoofsteps than any of her instructors back home had ever dreamed. Her steps felt light, and the world spun with a subtle dizziness.

This shouldn't be me. Twilight thought. It shouldn't be me standing here. She was just a young mare, barely an adult. It should have been Celestia. Her soul might have been equal to this task. At the very least, it should have been her burden to undertake. How had it all fallen on Twilight Egghead Sparkle?

“Y'all alright, sugarcube?” Applejack's words were swallowed swiftly by the empty night. “Ain't nothing here. . . is there?”

Pinkie sing-soned absently. “There is.”

“Our world stands condemned.” Luna's jaw clenched, and her words hummed like hollow steel. “Tonight we face that same judgment.”

There! “There!” She whispered. Twilight's thoughts seemed to rebound in her head before they found their way to her mouth. Do you see it? “Do you see it?” She pointed, and her hoof scarcely felt like her own. But past the tip of her violet limb, something lay upon the ground. A tiny dark patch lurking in the light of distant stars.

Twilight continued walking forward, her steps smooth even though her body felt a bit like a clumsy puppet, her movements happening only after she intended them to. She stopped when she was close enough to make out details.

She was about a stone's throw away from. . . Is. . . Is it a fish? Twilight wondered absently. It was small. Smaller than her, anyhow. It's surface sort of resembled scales, except that the scales weren't scales at all, just dark grey skin and irregular crimson rivulets marring its surface like fissures. Its lump of a head was split by a small mouth, slightly agape. It lay on its side, and Twilight could make out the closed lid of one of its eyes, gummed shut with mucous. Its body curved into a 'C,' ending at what might have been the tail of something that swam. She could only see two limbs, high up on the creature's body, but they were just rubbery, vestigial disks, utterly useless.

It tugged on Twilight's memory, the shape and form both strangely familiar and utterly wrong. She couldn't say what it looked like. Whatever it was, it wasn't breathing. Instead it pulsed in a smooth rhythm, not like the beat of a heart, but rather like a bag stuffed with restless worms. And that sound. . . that not-tone wailed like a siren in her head that her ears couldn't hear. Somehow that sound stung her nose, made her eyes water. Her head felt fuzzy, like she'd had too much sarsaparilla.

She had no doubt. They had found Yami. Here was the being that had driven Celestia and Luna from their home until they fled across the sea. Here was the being that had twisted and crushed Teryn's soul until he believed that murdering his sisters was the kindest thing he could have done for them. Here was the creature that had stilled the turning of the world, until magic was all that was left to keep it spinning. Here was the creature who had summoned or created or nurtured a horrible worm (Worms? Twilight eyed the sky nervously.) capable of devouring. . .

“Is that it?” Dash blurted out loud, her voice cracking more than usual. “That's what we've been scared of this whole time?”

“Shush!” Luna's voice cut like a lash.

Rainbow Dash failed to take the hint as her wings lifted her off the ground. “C'mon, lets light this squishy thing up, Harmony-style!”

“Do we need ta duct tape your blamed muzzle shut?” Applejack hissed. “Just look at how freaked out the clever ponies are!”

“Honestly, one of us could just step on it.” Dash tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Actually, I'mma call dibs on that.”

“Now, Twilight.” Luna muttered, her horn aglow. “Do it now.”

But Twilight's mind had slipped backwards through time, plunging her towards a memory that scarcely ever saw the light of day. The present dwindled as the past overtook her, filled her mind with immediacy. She'd been nothing but a young filly, quiet and well-mannered. Her family had a small dog that had been old for as long as Twilight could remember. They'd ended up at a veterinarian's office, telling young Twilight that Cygnus was just there for a checkup.

Twilight hadn't believed them. She hardly ever fell for the lies she'd been told, however well-meaning they'd been. Twilight had been too bright, too astute and far too rational to fall for the simple miss-truths most foals believed without question. As it was, her parents were too somber and her older brother too upset for this to be a happy visit. She knew Cygnus had been sick, and she knew that nobody expected him to get any better. She'd also understood that their lies were well-meaning, but they were still lies.

“Hey, let me go!” Dash's voice reached her ears, but the words couldn't connect to anything in Twilight's brain. It didn't belong in the memory.

Applejack mumbled around a mouthful of something.

“I believe Dash is correct.” Rarity said. “Let's get this over with.”

Her parents had been distracted by comforting Shining Armor. Or maybe they were just so used to Twilight staying still and minding herself that they forgot to keep a close eye on her. She still wasn't positive why she'd felt the need to wander off. Maybe it was the charade her parents felt compelled to act out, pretending everything would be fine. Maybe it was the smell of the place, a strange mix of antiseptic and animal and desperation. She'd drifted through a door before it swung shut, lured into hallways she only vaguely knew were off-limits. The sterile white of the walls were a mocking contrast to the sharp, noisome air.

As she turned down a corridor, a wave of chaotic sound suddenly washed over her; the rumble of heavy wheels and loud instructions enunciated over the moans of some nameless beast, drawing closer. Twilight nearly jumped out of her skin, cringing into a shallow doorway, certain she would be spotted and be in tremendous trouble that same moment. But the busy cluster of ponies swarmed right past her, obscuring a massive shape being rolled along on a metal platform.

“Here goes! Rrrrraugh!” Dash's voice was harsh with strain. Magic sizzled through the air. Rocks grumbled and crunched against one another. Then someone cried out in surprise and pain. Luna shouted a warning. Something scythed past Twilight, her body swaying in the wake of some blindingly fast movement. But she didn't twitch. She couldn't. It didn't exist in her memory. So she remembered none of it.

They slammed through a nearby set of double doors accompanied by another low, ghastly moan of pain from the mysterious creature. Twilight had been scared, but her curiosity had pulled her through the door in front of her. She didn't have a clear idea what she saw in that room. She'd grown up in Canterlot, and the only cows she'd ever seen had been in books. And, while she'd had some sort of notion where babies came from, she had been quite fuzzy on the details. Rainbow might joke that she still was.

But nothing in her limited experience could have possibly prepared her, or given her any sort of context for what she saw. Phrases like 'sepsis' and 'antenatal' and 'still-born' were uttered, and though they meant nothing to her as a filly, they carried with them a thick taint of abhorrence. Long before her parents had planned on explaining the concept of death to their foal, Twilight had watched as well-intentioned veterinarians cut open a cow's belly, revealing crimson blood and startlingly red entrails. She'd watched as they removed something, something that she understood had been making the cow very sick. And as the smell of blood and dying meat hit her nostrils, her eyes beheld something. . .

It's an embryo. . . “It's an embryo. . .” Twilight breathed. A stillbirth. Some kind of mockery. . .

As her consciousness returned to her body, she felt instantly startled by how easily she'd been hypnotized, how vivid and necessary her memory had felt as it snatched her away from her friends. Blinking hard, she scanned her surroundings as though waking from a deep dream.

Yami lay unmoved, surrounded by a perfect circle of untouched stone, as though a drafting compass had been used to exactly delineate where destruction ended and calm began. Outside that line, rocks lay broken and jagged, subtle smoke still rising into the air. The small, deformed entity had clearly remained untouched.

To her right, Luna's horn still glowed bright and hot, her features limned in dust and frustration. Behind her Rarity lay stunned, wide-eyed and panting but essentially whole, supported by a hyperventilating Pinkie. To her left, Dash had collapsed onto the worn, black rocks, and Fluttershy was busy putting her wing back together, blood staining the sunshine-yellow of her hooves once again.

Applejack was muttering imprecations and reprimands to the fallen pegasus. “Why'd you go and do that for you brash, overzealous, shortsighted, feather-brained idgit. How hard it is to just. . .” Her words may have been harsh, but her tone was thick with care and concern.

What happened? “What. . .” Twilight's body still felt disjointed, unresponsive. Something trickled slowly down her jaw, and Twilight reached a hoof up to the side of her head.

“Did you see none of that?” Rarity asked, incredulous. “Whatever is the matter with you, Twilight?”

When Twilight's hoof touched her ear, sharp pain caused her ear to flick away, scattering more drops of moisture. Her hoof came away red. As her eyes tracked a falling drop, she spotted a lock of her purple mane on the ground beside her, illuminated by starlight.

Pinkie Pie paced forward a careful step. “It looks like it's sleeping. . .” Her eyes twitched and darted, as though she saw a great deal more than anyone else.

“It looks dead.” Applejack stated flatly.

Stillbirth. “Stillbirth.” Twilight had to force the words out through numb lips. It chose to look like this. “It chose. . .” It's mocking us. Mocking every living thing.

Fury radiated in waves from Princess Luna. “Our danger is not thereby diminished. Behold.” With a glance to ensure Twilight was still paying attention, Luna summoned a bright ball of glowing force and launched it towards Yami. The attack rebounded skyward, no more than inches from it, revealing the perfect circle as a perfect sphere, a shield that hardly seemed to exist.

Twilight almost missed the counterstrike. There was a flicker in her vision, and suddenly Luna's shield fractured in a bright array of multicolored sparks. Pain dented her expression, and Luna dropped her shield rather than attempt to mend the deep fissures that had appeared.

“'Tis a reflex, nothing more.” Luna gritted through her teeth. “Yet. . . 'tis considerable force. Be careful. Employ the Elements Twilight, yet be on thy guard and strike with care.”

But Twilight felt herself slipping away again, another memory threatening to overtake the present. She felt a jolt of fear, imagining herself standing slack-jawed and unresponsive while her friends fought and died beside her. However, she wasn't helpless yet. While her brain felt fuzzy and indistinct, and her spirit still felt oddly disjointed, she hadn't stopped thinking. As the present faded away, Twilight found the door to power within herself and she flung it wide, unleashing the Elements of Harmony.

The present reappeared in stark clarity, a blinding swath of rainbow color driving back the night, outshining the stars with ease. Once again, Twilight had the power of the living world at her command, and immersed in its possibilities she felt no fear. Yami might be prodigious, but its curse had been eradicated. It had nothing but itself to draw upon for power. And, through the core of Celestia's magic Twilight felt a fine, delicate control of the Elements she'd never noticed before. Perhaps they stood a chance after all.

The rainbow lashed like a living thing, swiftly threading itself into a looping spiral, something Twilight hoped might contain whatever backlash Yami might counter with. Then, at her command, the rainbow swept skyward and plunged, aiming for Yami's heart.

Twilight had expected opposition, had prepared herself for layers of shields, triggered spells set and waiting to explode. She'd been ready for resistance, ready for a struggle. With her body shining bright in the middle of a cynosure of power, she struck with all the desperation of one who had already lost too much, endured too much pain.

She hadn't expected it to be so easy. She met no obstruction before the kaleidoscope of raw magic poured into the tiny figure, its body pummeled by a waterfall of power. Twilight reached eagerly forward. . .

It was like, like slamming through a doorway. The creature before them was only a snippet, an expression of something much larger. . .

And on the other side, Twilight searched for the dark heart of evil, whatever corrupted center that wanted to end life and destroy beauty. Wielding the full force of the Elements, she thrust herself into the void, and the void is what she found. Around her, in every direction, darkness yawned. There was enough lightless, formless nothing that it strained Twilight's senses.

Her brow furrowed deeply as she snarled. It couldn't hide from her. With a shout Twilight erupted, rings of prismatic magic slashing out into the emptiness all around her in great arcs. The magic reached outward, and outward, and still further outward, illuminating nothing but formless clouds of inert energy and specks of dust. . .

”Twilight, wait.” Pinkie Pie cautioned. “This doesn't feel right.”

. . . but there was something out there after all, wasn't there? Something solid? In a place where direction had no meaning there was. . . something like a wall or a barrier, something that marked the edge of cause and effect and reason and time. The beginning of all that could possibly be. . . Twilight blazed a trail through the void, shedding light like a comet, hoping to get a closer look.

Pinkie's cries grew more frantic, but none of her other friends offered Pinkie their support. Their silence undermined her fear, and Twilight dismissed it.

As the incomprehensible barrier drew closer, there were gaps, fine cracks through which Twilight could just make out tiny lights. . . lights that twinkled with familiarity. At the same time something behind her shifted, as though the cosmos beyond the cosmos was swirling through its own complicated dance of creation and destruction.

”Twilight! Please! Listen to me! You need to stop. . .” Pinkie was almost sobbing now. “Don't do this! You can't stay out there!!!”

For some reason, Pinkie's voice felt muted, devoid of import. So Twilight shushed her, entranced. Twilight turned away from the barrier to see formless swaths of energy coalesce and ebb. Dust swirled, parting like curtains. Patterns emerged and vanished before she could grasp them, and amidst it all, some illimitable sentience seemed to resolve, to draw into focus upon her, to notice her form shedding light like a beacon. The simple force of its gaze threatened to extinguish her like a gust of wind upon a flickering candle. And suddenly Pinkie's fear began to make sense, burrowing itself beneath her skin like scuttling centipedes.

Defying the crawling sensation Twilight screamed, and she flung her power out into the void, light bursting continuously in every direction. She refused to give in, utterly refused to be blinked out of life and purpose. Yet all she accomplished with her vast might was illuminating, defining, giving substance to a slowly-resolving shape, something she desperately did not want to see, something hard slammed across her shoulder, breaking her out of formation and scattering her body across the bed of stones. She blinked eternity out of her eyes to see the wolf, standing above her, snarling a threat into her face.

“Don't you see?” Pinkie was at her side, trying in vain to pull her to her hooves. “Can't you feel it? It's from before. From before there even was a before, and it lives in the not nothing that wasn't never anything. . .”

Her friend's voices and the wolf's snarls blurred into the ringing in her ears, but the wolf's expression was as clear to her as a shout. Horror twitched through Twilight's limbs as realization dawned upon her. Yami only truly existed in the formless chaos beyond the edge of their universe. And the celestial wolf had just stopped her from pouring the lifeblood of her world straight down its gullet and back out into the void. Twilight's hooves suddenly felt ice-cold, and sweat broke out along the sides of her mane. She trembled on the precipice of a desecration so vast she scarcely had words for it. If she hadn't been stopped. . .

She'd come within a hair's-breadth of tearing apart everything she loved in the world with her own hooves, and it would have been as simple as giving in to the Darkness had been. As easy as snapping a neck.

The misplaced ringing sound deepened, thickening the air around her. The simple act of drawing breath into her lungs became difficult, like breathing syrup. As she gasped and panted, something deep in her brain begged her to panic, to give in to the autonomic reflex of basic survival. She'd already failed in every meaningful way. Twilight only remained because her shaky limbs refused to obey her instinct to turn and bolt for the horizon. The wolf turned its snarl away from her, and Twilight unwillingly followed its gaze.

Yami's eyes blinked open, black orbs shiny behind clear, thin strands of mucous. Entranced, Twilight hadn't noticed that the creature had moved, but now it hovered upright, glaring down at the cluster of creatures gathered before it. The sphere around Yami had solidified, a globe of purest energy, sturdy as crystal. To Twilight it appeared natural, like a vessel or container of some sort. It opened its mouth-

-it's tinny screech slammed the world to a stop and Twilight hung immobile in the gap between instants, helpless. Her legs were iron, her muscles steel. Even her eyes locked in place, unable to twitch away from the piercing sound. The stars seemed to retreat, their light dimming as black shadows gathered about Yami's sphere. The darkness radiated a brutal puissance, licking like flames or dripping like water or crackling like lightning by turns. Then, just like that it closed its mouth-

-and Twilight staggered as time released, catching herself as her heart began to beat, as her lungs began to move. Twilight floundered in the moment, struggled to rejoin thought to thought, purpose to action. She felt further from her body than she had before, like she had to stretch to reach it. And the air was still thick with power, difficult to breathe. The small lights of anoxia began to dance across her vision. All her companions, in fact, needed a moment to gather themselves. Well, all of them except one.

“AAAAAAAAAAA-” Pinkie Pie stepped forward, glaring as she shouted back. “AAAAAAAAHH yourself, buster! See? I can yell too!” She visibly struggled to draw breath, but she filled her lungs and threw her words as hard as she could. The effect was galvanizing. “This is our home! Not some pie you can just chew into! So how about you just go away and leave us alone! Scram! Hit the road!”

“She's right!” Rarity took the momentum, flipping her mane out of her face even though it slid right down over one eye anyway. “You've no business here, you grotesque bully!”

Fluttershy was still reeling from the strange stuttering of time. She gasped and pawed her hooves ineffectually at the ground, unable to find her balance. But Dash had wedged herself beneath one of Fluttershy's wings, steadying her, and Dash glared at the abomination from under her spiked bangs. “Oh, you're going down!” She called out. “So are so going down!!”

The wolf's snarl deepened, as though in agreement. Then the beautiful predator launched herself into the air, leaping six or seven pony-lengths so gracefully she looked like a painting in motion, and she struck Yami with her floating metal disk. It was deflected by the clear globe, accompanied by a hollow ringing sound and sparks erupting in a dazzling arc. Twilight felt the wolf's fury from where she stood, and for a moment she imagined the depth of the struggle before her. The light and the dark, life and death, creation and destruction. In a daze, Twilight wondered if maybe this conflict they'd been swept up in was as old as time itself.

A large, black spike of magic buried itself violently in the exact spot where the wolf had landed, but she had already attacked again, flipping effortlessly forward. Her claws and teeth fared no better than her strange weapon against Yami's shield, nevertheless she pressed the assault with vehemence.

Luna set her hooves and squinted, firing focused bursts of mana bolts in-between the wolf's movements. Her magic fractured against the shield, but she simply adjusted her aim and kept trying, searching for a weak spot. It didn't look like she was strong enough to even grab the creature's attention, but the darkness that coalesced above her head indicated that she had. As black power slammed down like a giant hammer Luna didn't even flinch, she simply teleported into the air, pressing her measured attack from another angle.

But the falling anvil of magic made stones erupt in every direction, one large rock in particular arced gently towards Twilight, and just as she focused a spell through her horn she felt a current of memory and her legs trembled beneath the weight of the massive stone as she tried to take ginger steps forward. The twists and turns of the hedge maze baffled and frustrated her. With Discord's power, couldn't the maze be the size of Canterlot by now? The size of a mountain? Her progress was painfully slow in a place where they absolutely needed to move quickly. They needed to find the Elements! But her sense of haste went scorned by her friends.

Applejack had been acting weird. Twilight wasn't certain, but she thought her friend might have been telling lies. Fluttershy was acting vindictive and cruel, and she'd never seen Pinkie Pie so far away from smiling before in her life. Not to mention Rarity's obnoxious obsession with this stupid rock. She couldn't understand why her friends were all being so horrible to her, and to each other.

“Must. . . find. . . Rainbow Dash. . .” Twilight panted. She couldn't seem to draw a proper breath, probably no thanks to the boulder weighing her down from shoulders to hips. For the umpteenth time she involuntarily tried to levitate the rock with her magic, only to remember her horn was gone. “As a team. . . we're unstoppable! Rainbow Dash. . . wont let us down.” But Discord had separated them all from one another with incredible ease. She had the subtle, worrying feeling that, if they ever found each other, it was only because Discord wanted them to. They could never win against something that could just take a unicorn's horn away. Could they?

“Well, lookie there.” Applejack had stopped, pointing a hoof upwards at an angle. “Rainbow Dash is flying away! She's abandoning us!”

Twilight rolled her eyes as she tipped the heavy burden off her back. “Now I know that's a lie.” The words left her mouth even as her eyes tracked skyward, following a blue streak that flew overhead. She couldn't believe it. Her stomach sank with dread. They were doomed. If this was how each of her friends felt, then maybe. . . but no. There was a subtle glow at Dash's throat as she flew, the glow from a jewel. She hadn't lost her Element, or turned her back on her friends. . . in fact, she was circling back around, moving her hooves and flinging magic through the moonless night with reckless abandon, weaving and dodging through lashing tendrils of shadow.

But she saw everything off-kilter. Twilight noticed she lay on her side, feeling scraped and abraded. Pinkie Pie disentangled herself from her midsection and stood up, her eyes worried. “Wake up. . . Twilight. . .” She panted. “You almost got mushed.” Then her knee twitched and jerked, and Pinkie turned and flung herself in Fluttershy's direction.

Twilight pushed herself up to her knees. Ahead of her, Yami had disappeared behind a larger orb of shadows, compacted and constricted until it looked solid. Thick grooves in its surface channeled orange, bitter energy into patterns that flowed and changed, almost appearing as a mocking face composed of runes. The shadows lashed out of the top of the orb, waving chaotically through the air at the pegasus and the alicorn, now working together to combine their attacks. Her stomach sank. It was growing stronger.

To her left, Rarity was levitating rocks larger than Spike, and Applejack was bucking them with incredible force. They shot across the intervening space faster than Twilight could follow and smashed to powder against Yami's outer sphere. The Element around Applejack's neck was alight as well.

In the space of a blink, a. . . a sort of hatch dropped open in the side of the sphere and a sizzling beam of bright energy vaporized the next projectile and rebounded off of the wolf's shield just inches from Applejack's flank. The wolf snarled in pain as she was driven back, but Rarity stomped an indignant hoof and a spire of rock shot out of the ground next to Yami, slamming the hatch shut and cutting off the attack.

The light dimmed just in time for Twilight to see several balls of dark energy, difficult to spot against the backdrop of the moonless night, arcing towards the cluster of companions. The wolf lashed her tail and howled, and a few of the arcing orbs were deflected back towards Yami by invisible slashes of power but she missed a few and Twilight blinked forward in time to catch them on her shield, the roar of explosive energy muffled by the layers of protection she'd willed through her horn.

As the dust settled, Applejack grinned and nudged her with a hoof. “Now there's the unicorn we know! Atta' girl!”

The moment Twilight dropped her shield the wolf launched herself back into the fray, and Yami lifted its bulk into the air on a portion of its tentacles and slammed itself against the ground, creating a crash of reverberating sound that startled Twilight nearly to death. The entire forest had become still as a tomb, and she could only stare at the leafy branches waving inches in front of her nose while her heart beat a rapid, panicked pace.

She berated herself for daydreaming about darkness and battles, especially while walking through the Everfree. Yes, she'd taken this route to Zecora's a number of times by now. Yes, she'd been feeling more and more at ease in the normally frightening forest. Yes, Zecora made the best tea she'd ever had, outshining even the stuff they served at the palace. But even so she should have kept her guard up. That falling tree had taken her completely by surprise.

And now that her heart was beginning to slow, she could see the fallen tree now blocked her entire path forward. She would have to double-back and take another route, and the sun was already beginning to set. Although. . . she thought she could make out another path, a clear area somewhere through the trees. . .

Twilight stepped carefully through the underbrush, doing her best not to disturb any animals that might be resting nearby. Everfree fauna could be titchy if they were disturbed. Also, she was trying not to disturb the plants, for much the same reason. But after ten minutes of careful treading, the lush foliage thickened, tangling her legs and barring her way. She couldn't force her way forward without tearing vines or stripping leaves, and that just felt like a really bad idea.

She remembered a spell she'd been practicing, and she'd become quite good at it. Few unicorns ever mastered teleportation, but Twilight had found the spell a fascinating challenge she could accomplish, once she'd become strong enough. With a deep breath and an effort of magic she vanished, leaving the plant life to sag back into position with a sigh-like rustle.

Twilight appeared in a clearing, the path behind her she recognized as leading back to Ponyville, only because the path before her was so familiar. The forest pressed up against low cliffs, and a narrow ravine outlined the path as it continued deeper into the heart of the woods. She recognized this clearing because the first time she'd been here, she and her friends had run into a very irritated manticore blocking their way. She chuckled at the memory, but she also knew that this particular path wouldn't take her directly to Zecora's. She'd just cost herself valuable time.

Why hadn't she just teleported herself past the tree? Twilight rolled her eyes at herself as she stamped a hoof in frustration. Why did she always have to overthink the simplest problems? Dash or AJ could have instantly told her what she should have done, and if this little story got back to them neither would waste any time telling her anyway. She reminded herself that this is why she had friends, because no one was perfect on their own. Except maybe Celestia, of course.

She had just turned back towards Ponyville, giving up on the notion of Zecora and tea with a sigh, when she heard a rustling in the underbrush. Backing up a few paces, Twilight put up a shield spell, forming a little purple bubble that distorted the forest around her. This was another spell she'd been getting better at, and the simple protection bolstered her confidence. It was probably just a bunny anyway, right?

What emerged from the shrubbery was an unnatural synthesis of scales and feathers, a hissing parody of fowl and dragon. Twilight recognized it from one of her books on rare and magical creatures as a cockatrice. She was thankful she already had her shield in place, the beast would probably just leave her alone. Actually, this might not be a terrible time for a little observational study, safe as she was. But, what was it the book had said? Something about their eyes. . .

One moment too late she recalled the pertinent passage as its red, bottomless eyes locked onto hers, and she felt her hooves slowly begin to crystallize in place, the stillness of stone overwhelming her body. It's beak opened into a screech that filled her ears, separating her from the forest and the slanting sunlight and the lush, humid air. Twilight knew what was happening to her, but she couldn't look away. She physically could not move or twitch or breathe as her body turned to stone, darkness sealing away the slow gloaming of the Everfree, replacing it with miles of rocks and an empty sky. Yami's screech had ground everything to a halt except for itself. Even Luna, Dash and the wolf hung unmoving in the air, as frozen in time as the stones that hadn't been granted the grace to fall completely back to the ground.

Twilight watched helplessly as a portion of the black orb segmented and swiveled outward, becoming a strangely-jointed paw that swung overhead as it pivoted, smashing the brilliant wolf as she hung suspended in mid-leap. It crushed her effortlessly to the ground. Then the paw flicked backwards, swatting Luna out of the air the way Twilight might have swatted a fly. Twilight only wished she had enough volition left for a scream to die in her throat.

The massive orb swiveled once again, and the paw with too many digits swung for a third time. Twilight imagined she saw fear flicker through Dash's eyes, as the shadow of the construct fell over her, blocking out the sky.

Twilight cursed her helplessness. What was wrong with her brain? Why did she keep losing the present the way she'd been? Why did she feel like she had to fight to make her own body do what she told it to? And why couldn't she force even the smallest trickle of magic through her horn during these odd interstices in time? Sure, her body was frozen or stuck, but her mind wasn't. She was still cogent in these gaps between instants. Why couldn't she just move Dash out of the way?

Twilight set herself against the stillness of the world and Yami's unearthly screech and pushed, willing the magic to flow through her leylines. She only needed to pull her friend back a little ways, and telekinesis was the simplest of unicorn spells. She brought Celestia's magic to the surface of her mind, feeling the power build and the pressure increase. The simple spell was like trying to lift a mountain with a hoof. She placed herself against the will of an ancient deity, and strove to believe she would prevail.

She did not. She lacked the strength, or she lacked the understanding to apply her strength properly. She remained helpless as the odd limb swung murderously towards Rainbow Dash. Despair settled into her limbs and into her heart. She still wasn't strong enough. She would never be strong enough. And Yami's power only seemed to grow.

But the scream ended half-a-heartbeat before the limb connected and Dash twisted herself between the clawed extremities, eluded three lashing tendrils and swept into a dive. In a flash, she'd scooped her shoulder underneath the wolf's body and was winging her out of the heart of the fight before Twilight could even find the means to properly stand on her own legs.

Determined to do something before being subsumed into utter helplessness again, Twilight forced her eyes to focus until she spotted Fluttershy, still collapsed upon the ground. She gathered her magic and teleported Fluttershy over to where Rainbow was already setting the wolf's limp body gently down. Shy probably couldn't stand yet, but Twilight hoped she could do something to patch up the eldritch visitor.

“Twilight!” Rarity's voice was strained. “Help us!”

I can't use the Elements against it! “I can't. . .” I don't dare. . . Yami would consume them all when it could. That was its sole purpose. Using the Elements, she would be giving Yami a thread it could use to unravel the connections between all life left in this world. And without the Elements she couldn't seem to stay in the present. Without the Elements. . . without the Elements. . .

Without the Elements of Harmony, she could still fight!

The massive paw had rejoined the larger mass, but several of the black, lashing tendrils of energy had merged into one long undulating limb emerging from the orb, and it whipped itself at the prone form of the wolf and Fluttershy and Dash. Shy didn't even look up, and Dash deliberately stepped in the way, but Twilight struck at the base of the limb as hard as she could, hoping to sever the appendage in one blow.

Despite her remaining strength, all she managed was driving Yami's aim off-center, but it was enough. The blow swung wide and smashed into the ground to the side, sending shards and chunks of stone flying through the air. Twilight struggled to keep her senses wide open, trying to feel the kind of magic they were up against. It felt wrong; greasy and caustic and somehow sticky, as though it would smother her and burn her and not let go. She forced herself to keep her senses open anyway. Maybe, if she could understand it. . .

Two chunks of the large orb pistoned their way out of the bottom of the larger mass, supporting the orb like strange, bi-pedal feet. It swiveled towards her friends, lurching in oddly mechanical, stuttering motions. As it did the ember lights in the surface of the orb intensified, sharpening the delineations of the runes they formed. It was a fiercer magic that it gathered, made just to burn, and the light made the thing look even more like a static, mocking face than it did before. Twilight blinked herself through space with a thought, appearing at Dash's side.

The evil sphere pulsed, and a shockwave of bitter energy rippled outward in every direction. Twilight felt it coming, and she swept her horn in an arc, parting the energy harmlessly around her and her friends. Understanding the energy actually had helped her counter it. Her grim, dust-covered features brightened a little.

Another thrashing limb formed, providing symmetry to the foe seemingly forming right before their eyes. It swung, and Twilight struck again, pushing the construct off-balance. And by her side Dash followed her lead, using her hooves to direct her magic the way the ponies in comics would have. Twilight tried not to roll her eyes, but the corners of her eyes crinkled, like she wanted to smile.

Together, they protected their wounded. Twilight didn't even know if the wolf was still breathing, or if Fluttershy could do anything for her with her Element. But still she fought hard to keep the beast at bay, blasting a seeking tendril out of the air, deflecting a lateral swing with an angled shield, scattering bursts of force with her own attacks, and when it reared back for an overhead smash she and Dash managed to clip its leg, upsetting its balance and sending it crashing to the ground.

“Hah!” Dash pumped a hoof into the air, then swayed unsteadily a bit. “Suck on that you donkey-bucked, flank-stained, flea-ridden, uh. . . um. . . outhouse-smelling. . .”

“We get it.” Rarity appeared at their side, looking disheveled and wearing a smirk.

Dash shrugged, then turned her attention to Twilight. “What's wrong with you, Twi? You keep drifting off.”

I don't know. “I don't. . .” Movement caught Twilight's eye, and she threw up another bubble shield. Look out!

A black mist boiled across the intervening space, washing over Twilight's shield, and moments later seeping through it. Her spell faltered as she watched it fail, mist oozing though it like cheesecloth. She lost sight of her friends as the mist separated them all. She'd thought to hold her breath, but the mist made her eyes sting and burn, and it made the skin on her nose start to tingle unpleasantly. She heard coughing nearby.

“Rarity?” Twilight croaked, trying not to inhale. But it hurt. Her lungs felt like they were cramping in her chest. Breathing hadn't been a picnic before she'd gasped in her last breath of air, and now she struggled second by second to hold on. She knew a spell for generating wind, if only she could focus. . .

A howl went up from somewhere behind her, and a strong wind began to blow, sweeping the roiling mist away. The moment it peeled away from her watering eyes Twilight gasped, drawing sweet oxygen deep into her lungs. Her eyes still felt dry, and her nose and hooves felt as burned as if she'd spent the entire day in the sun. Behind her the wolf stood tall, its nose pointed towards the sky, baying for all she was worth. Twilight wasn't quite sure how her magic worked, but the wolf seemed to be giving off her own soft, white light.

Yami gathered might within itself and it fired directly into the ground below it, a continuous beam that caused the ground to shake beneath her hooves, forcing her to stop running as the barrier magic failed and the shield surrounding the city crumbled. When the shaking stopped, they kept running, only now their staccato hoofbeats were punctuated by the high-pitched, insect-like whine of changeling wings hurtling towards them. The creatures crashed into the streets and sidewalks all around, snarling and hissing at them as they ran by.

Up a flight of stairs, and Twilight skidded to a stop. Her friends piled against her from behind. They stood in front of a wall of changelings. Their fangs glistened pearly white against their shiny onyx carapaces. There were so many, and they stood between Twilight and Canterlot Tower, where the Elements of Harmony were kept. They had to get through somehow, but Twilight was filled with a hopeless dread. She knew there was no way to win this one.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way!” Rainbow Dash sounded confident as she punched her hooves together and darted forward, but she pulled up short as she wound up facing herself. Twilight felt sick. She knew what would happen. She stepped out of the way as Rainbow Dash was flung across the concrete. “How did sh. . .?” Rainbow gasped. Several more changelings flashed a sickly green, and then reappeared as exact replicas of her, crouched and ready for a fight.

“They’re changelings, remember?” Twilight said.

“They’re changelings, remember?” Chorused half a dozen Twilights in unison. The effect was terribly creepy.

“Don’t let them distract you! We have to get to the Elements of Harmony. They’re our only hope!” At that, Twilight Sparkle launched herself into a sea of changelings. It was an absolute nightmare. She found herself confronted with images of her friends, and they all tried to hurt her. She wound up kicking an Applejack in the face, and punching a Rarity across her jaw. She turned and blasted a Rainbow Dash with her horn, purple magic catching the changeling and flinging it far away. At least, she hoped it was a changeling. A Fluttershy pounced on Twilight’s back, and Twilight knew that couldn’t be the real Fluttershy. Twilight rolled with the other pony’s momentum just like her brother had shown her, and kicked the Fluttershy into another pony.

Twilight Sparkle turned and found four other Twilight Sparkles leaping toward her. She blasted two out of the air before she found herself slammed onto her back, kicking desperately to keep their teeth and hooves at bay. One pinned her arms as the other leveled its horn at her neck. Twilight rolled her back and kicked the other Twilight in the face with both hind hooves. She heard something snap, and she felt a moment of nausea as she contemplated the damage she’d just done. She didn’t hesitate to keep up the attack, however. As fast as thought, she lifted the other Twilight off of her with magic, trapping her in a faint purple light.

Once the real Twilight rolled to her hooves, she considered her enemy for a moment. It looked exactly like her in every detail. The hooves, the mane, even the six stars that made up her cutie mark were replicated exactly. The only difference was the expression on her face. The changeling Twilight’s face radiated hate and fury. It shocked Twilight to the core to see that expression on her own features. Then Twilight remembered her friends. They might already be hurt, or worse. With a snarl and an effort of will, Twilight slammed the imposter hard into the ground once, twice, three times, and then let the stunned creature tumble onto its back. She pounced on it, and with an entirely different spell peeled its glamour off like the skin of an orange, revealing the dazed and dizzy monster underneath.

Twilight leapt off the changeling and turned to face a sea of imposters. Twilight’s horn burst into a purple light so bright it was almost blinding. She grit her teeth together, planted her hooves, and with a cry sent out a shockwave of force that radiated out in all directions, peeling back her friend’s fake faces and exposing the lies beneath. When she finished her spell, she stood, head drooped and panting in front of a sea of black, snarling, fanged grins. Not one of her friends was to be found. They were gone.

Twilight felt herself snap. All of her fear turned instantly to hatred and anger. She no longer wanted to make it to the Elements of Harmony. She only wanted to hurt these creatures that had invaded her homeland, destroyed this city, destroyed her brother’s wedding and done something terrible to her friends. She wanted to kill them. And as they leapt for her throat, Twilight Sparkle began to do exactly that. She burned them to ash and cinders and the backlash of her spell washed over her, the smell of singed fur sharp upon the back of her tongue.

Rarity lay before her, white fur blackened and smoking in patches. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes rolled towards Twilight in pain and fear. Most of her friends still fought to survive against Yami, but here lay her friend, and the magic Twilight had cast still lingered in her horn. One second too late, Rainbow Dash barreled into Twilight's side, sending them both tumbling across the stones.

“Twilight!” Dash scrambled to her hooves, her wings stretched into the sky behind her. “Aaaaugh, I knew this would happen! I knew it!” Her cyan chest heaved, and her eyes had filled with tears. “I called it. . . I bucking called it!. . . And not one pony. . . listened to me. . .” She panted, grief and anger warring in her eyes. “Somepony. . . has to stop you. . .” Dash tensed to fling herself murderously at her.

But Twilight wasn't looking at her. The despair in her heart had crystallized into something clear, something that made cold, logical sense. She had finally become the culmination of her failures. She was worse than useless, so much worse than ineffectual. Her failures had hurt her friends. She only hoped it was for the last time. Twilight turned and walked with stately dignity towards the fight still raging nearby.

Explosions tried to shove her away, but they couldn't make her flinch. Shattering rocks didn’t alter her path. Twilight walked through chaos as though it had lost its power to scare her, to hurt her. Her fear had crystallized too, and it no longer made sense to feel afraid. She only had one thing to do ever since that one fateful moment upon an empty shoreline, and she marched towards her destiny with what felt like courage. If courage was supposed to feel cold and empty and sad all at once.

Voices shouted warnings, dear voices Twilight would have smiled to hear any other time. Yami had sequestered itself back inside its black construct, and it crackled now with orange, vaporous lightning. For a moment it turned to regard her as Applejack shouted taunts from what sounded like miles away. Twilight's vision blurred, and she didn't rub the tears, letting the world smudge itself into streaks of color and shadow. Magical attacks smashed unheeded off the thing's back as it reached a rippling limb down to coil around the purple unicorn but something knocked Twilight aside and out of the way. She rubbed her eyes clear.

The limb had coiled around Princess Luna and lifted her into the air. It tightened, soft snaps reaching Twilight's ears over the other sounds of battle. When it tossed the alicorn away, she tumbled like a stuffed doll, coming to rest awkwardly on one of her wings. Twilight failed entirely to scream, or speak, or stand or move. Numb shock froze her in place, rendered every possible action meaningless. No. . . Wait. . . I. . . Luna's sacrifice made no sense, and she found herself frozen by her inability to understand.

So Twilight failed to see the limb swing back around for her. It was as cold as a winter wasteland and strong as it gripped her, the pressure enough to crush the air out of her lungs and make her own pulse painful in her ears. She was glad there was no room left in her for breath; she would have hated to scream for her life in front of her friends. They'd be hurt enough by her choice without them having to hear her give voice to her pain. Celestia save us. Take your strength back. You chose the wrong pony. She thought as, despite the tears in her eyes, she saw energy gather in the core of the construct and surge toward her. Save us. Please.

Crackling energy tore through every fiber of her being, scouring every nerve with excruciation and agony until everything became white and every sensation stopped.

All the studying she'd ever done, all the love she'd ever felt, all the friends she'd ever made, all the wrongs she'd worked so hard to amend, all the strife and pain and yearning. None of it had saved her. None of it had made her worth being saved.

There was nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing existed but emptiness. Everything had been completely erased. The world had gone away, taking the agony of the physical with it, but her pain endured. Her broken heart forced heaving sobs through her throat, bitter tears clawed their way out of her eyes, and Twilight began to wonder if eternity was exactly this: endless nothing and memories.

She would go mad. She would definitely lose her mind. But oh, not yet. Not while the pain of her failures and leaving the world she'd loved was so fresh, so vivid. So her heart cried on, and on, and on, and on, and on.

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

Eventually something else began to coalesce in Twilight's consciousness. Nothing was never not anything, as Pinkie Pie might have said. She became aware that something had changed, or maybe it was always there, waiting for her to notice that something actually did exist. She felt cold marble beneath her hooves. A breeze through her mane, sensations that felt real even as she knew they couldn't be.

Twilight lifted her head from the floor, an immaculate expanse of black marble unveiling before her eyes. Tall white pillars stretched towards a sky filled with glowing warmth and light. Here was a place she didn't recognize, a place that belonged in an ancient tome somewhere, gathering dust as it awaited discovery. Her wonder cut through her misery, stilled the convulsions in her chest.

She shifted her limbs without rising, and noticed she wore a light tunic of smooth silk, draped about with a white saffron toga as fine and delicate as gossamer, clasped with a orchid-colored fastener in the shape of a star. What. . . ?

”Twilight Sparkle.” The voice resonated inside her head, rather than reaching her ears. She couldn't tell where it had come from. Nevertheless it was achingly familiar, causing her head to snap up, violet eyes wide. She was lying in a monolithic building with no roof, as though the audiences it had once held had been so sacred they could never have been blocked from view of the sky. Large, ornate pedestals encircled the expanse of perfectly-smooth marble in measured intervals. Some of them stood empty, and some were topped with statues, regal monuments to Goddess only knew who or what.

She wanted to see more, but the light intensified, growing brighter as it focused, delineated, took shape. Twilight felt her before she saw her, and despite however much she blinked, she couldn't seem to keep the tears out of her eyes.

Celestia stood before her, appearing more illimitable and radiant than she'd ever imagined. Her mane spangled with glints of benign light that could make any star jealous. Her hooves were wrapped in gold bands that ascended nearly to her knees, and she was draped in silk of exquisite purple. She shone with light, and her eyes held softness. Twilight gasped in sorrow as much as in relief.

“Please.” Twilight trembled with the depth of her yearning. “Please. . . Take it back. . .” She meant her magic, her life. Celestia's gaze held a subtle reprimand alongside her compassion, and Twilight scrambled to explain. “I'm not worth all of this! All this power and responsibility! Can't you see that?!” Her mentor neither moved nor spoke. “You were wrong! You were wrong to s-save me. I'm not the one. . .” She fought back the tears long enough to plead what she felt in her heart. “I can't fight without hating. I can't fight without hurting. . . I can't. . . I'm sorry. . . It was-was my fault, I didn't know what I was doing, and. . . and you. . . you died. . . and it should have been me. . .”

The alicorn knelt before her and enfolded her gently in her limbs. Twilight felt Celestia's neck press against hers, and felt her cheek against her shoulder, and Twilight felt her control slipping, her pain and grief and indignant rage straining to break free from their bonds. But Celestia's mouth moved, and even though she was so very close, her words came from very, very far away.

”Twilight'” Or maybe the voice was only in her mind. ”You will join us here, one day. Sooner than we would like.”

Her words were love, Twilight could feel that deep in her heart. But they also denied her. Denied her the right to give up her power, her life, denied her the right to rest. “No. . .” Twilight shook her head, but Celestia continued.

”My faithful student, these burdens are not yours to set aside. I grieve on your behalf, yet I am also proud of you. You have so much more that you must do. I have faith in you.”

A wail bubbled up in Twilight's chest. “I CAN'T-”

”TWILIGHT!” The urgency in Celestia's voice cut through every other emotion, denying her even the simple release of despair. ”CONCENTRATE!”

Celestia vanished into mist and beams.

I can't.

The giant arena blew away like chaff.

Twilight. . .

Nobody is coming to save us. . .

“Twilight. . .”

I don't. . .

“Twilight! You need to get up!”

I don't know how!

The night sky resolved itself into clarity, blacks and blues and violets against the horizon provided a familiar backdrop behind Fluttershy's anguished expression. Dawn was coming. “Twilight, thank goodness. . .” The pegasus was haggard and worn, streaked with dust and soot and blood. “Twilight. . .” Her eyes struggled into focus, but then instantly drifted elsewhere, glazed with exhaustion. “We. . . We have to. . .”

Twilight bolted upright as Fluttershy collapsed to the side, catching her friend as her limbs gave out. With a quick glance Twilight took stock of her surroundings. The fight raged on, but they were clearly losing. Their injuries were piling up too fast. The wolf fought the hardest, keeping Yami's attention despite deep slashes across her midsection and a pronounced limp. Pinkie Pie stood guard over Rarity, the unicorn being cared for by Applejack. Twilight noticed her friend still breathing, and her shoulders sagged a little. Meanwhile the giant-orb-monster thing had swelled in size, and it sported extra limbs. No matter what they did, Yami only seemed to grow in power.

Dash still flew circles around the fight, looking for some way to harass their foe, but it was clear she'd exhausted herself almost completely. Princess Luna. . . Twilight fought away the sting of guilt, it wouldn't save her friends. . . Luna had somehow righted herself, her wings unfurled and slack, regal head hung towards the stony ground. Her horn glowed with magic, and Twilight realized she must be raising the sun. That's. . . That's genius! The sky continued brightening in the east, but the rim of the crater was tall. She needed a little more time.

Okay, think of something! Twilight battered her mind for ideas. Focus! Twilight settled Fluttershy down gently, then drew upon Celestia's core of magic, selecting a large boulder nearby. The gravity spell came easily, and the boulder dislodged itself and fell skyward, growing smaller and smaller. Twilight struggled to maintain her grip on that spell as she readied another. Then she waited. An idea was forming in the back of her mind.

The wolf was having trouble staying out of Yami's reach. When the predator stumbled, Twilight found her voice. Hey you! “Hey you!” Twilight managed to shout. At the same time she released her gravity spell and cast another, a thin and dangerous beam of mana like a taut wire sprang up between the two of them. It was a spell she'd used to cut gemstones before, and she scaled the intensity up until the spell threatened to destabilize. Come on. All she needed was a little give, one tiny crack in that giant sphere.

The orb twitched, turning towards her with what might have been surprise. The beam sizzled and spat where it struck the body of the construct, corroding its way slowly through layers of protection. She was certain her spell would have eaten completely through the thing, given enough time.

But the body of the construct began to move then, spinning slowly on a tilted axis, spreading out and negating Twilight's efforts with ease. It ambled towards her strangely on its supple extremities until Twilight fell under its vague shadow. It almost seemed to leer at her.

Then the falling boulder struck the construct with a deafening crash, splitting the rock straight up the middle, the halves sliding off either side. In the stillness that followed, Twilight smirked. “Hmph. I guess I just assumed you'd be smarter than me.” She struggled to pull in enough air for a second taunt, but she didn't need it. The orb launched itself at her, aiming to crush her into dust.

Twilight vanished in a flash of purple. “And you're a little slow.” Limbs smashed into the stones she'd just been standing on, having blinked away again. Magical attacks arced through the gradual dawn, tracking Twilight's movements and adjusting their trajectory to converge on her shield, crushing it like tinfoil.

She was thankful she hadn't stayed to meet them. As the backlash from the detonation washed over her, a part of her shuddered to imagine trying to meet that kind of force head-on. The rest of her exulted in her ploy. She'd successfully pulled the monster away from the panting wolf, away from the Princess. It was exactly what Celestia would have done. Twilight wasn't trying to be strong anymore. Finally she was trying to be smart.

It worked. As Yami oriented on her location once more, Twilight spotted the bright white of sunshine sweeping across the crater, and as the dark orb lunged towards her on its gangly limbs the sun peeked over the horizon and the construct collapsed, the cohesion within the shadows eroded by the clean sunlight.

Luna raised her head into the light. “COWERING 'NEATH DARKNESS!?” Luna trumpeted. “STEP THEE INTO THE LIGHT, CURSED WRETCH!!”

The sun's rising tugged at Twilight's memory, drawing her back towards the past, but she was ready for that too. She flung open the door to the Elements of Harmony and in a blink her eyes became disks of shining platinum, bright as the sun.

Twilight, her friends, they had only ever channeled the power of the Elements. It was a vast tidal wave of magic, guided by the six ponies as though they were the perfect conduit. Yet they were only the river bed, directing the energy and nothing more.

Not this time. Twilight grabbed hold of the magic, bottled it up, stopped it like damming up a stream. The pressure was incredible. It filled her mind and swelled beneath her skin until she felt she would rupture like an overfilled balloon, the might of the Elements too much for one mortal soul to bear.

Except Twilight was no longer mortal. The magic which should have burst free from her grasp or rent her limb from limb did neither. Instead she quivered as though her entire body was made of electricity and screaming exultation. Her mind caught fire with knowledge and possibilities. For a brief eternity Twilight held the entire world in her mind, in her soul, a transformative apotheosis that seared her to her core.

Deeper than that, the primal force fused her to herself, her doubt and self-contradictions ameliorated in transcendent fire. Her joy and sorrow became one. Her grief and love became one. Hatred and understanding and rage and forgiveness fused her soul into an alloy, unbendable and dauntless. As it drifted into her vision, her mane was a shifting panoply of vivid colors. Her hoof, as she lifted it, was a deep deep violet that bordered on black, yet it broke and refracted the sunlight into a million bright pieces.

“This is our home.” Her words spangled with complimentary chimes, the force of her words aiding the sunlight in wafting the shadows away. “Not yours. You don't belong here.”

It lashed at her with shadows, but the sunlight shone through them, depriving them of substance, and Twilight cut them down easily, careful not to touch the corrupted being at their core with the Elements. She stood tall, met every attack with confidence, as though she had never known doubt in her life. With an effort of will Twilight's horn began to glow with its own version of sunlight, shining like a fallen star. The bits of glass that had fused on her horn mere days or a lifetime ago melted away in the radiant light.

The orb of shadows melted away completely, revealing the malformed fish-thing squinting in the harsh glare. Twilight seized the opportunity, sweeping her horn in a grand arc and tearing open a gateway right beside the creature. But Twilight had no focus, no object with a sympathetic connection to stabilize or direct her efforts. Instead, the raw force of her will and magic cast the spell into the black, into the far reaches of the universe.

The air rent before her, shredding like fabric, revealing a startling darkness speckled with distant stars. The portal brought with it a rushing howl of wind that evoked the elemental fury of a hurricane. Twilight set herself against the pull with all her might, counting on the Elements as a tether she could use to anchor herself to the world she fought to protect. Get out of here get out get out of my home get out of my HOME GET OUT GO!!!

Yami shuddered but did not succumb to the rising pressure. It seemed to resist through sheer force of will, and Twilight had the unsettling impression that it had sunk its teeth into their world, metaphorically speaking, refusing to let go. Instead its mouth dropped open-

-and once again its screech froze time in its tracks the howl of the gale silenced as abruptly as it had begun and in horror Twilight watched as Yami exerted its magic along the leylines of the world and it unraised the sun. It spun the world backward until night presided once again over the crater of the world. Twilight's stomach seemed to fall into her hooves as the light dipped back below the eastern rim, the glow in the sky dimming into the starred expanse of night and when the scream stopped-

-and the wind began again Twilight launched herself on the offensive, flinging spells into the fierce wind like a pony on the verge of despair. All she needed was to drive the physical incarnation of the Void out into space and close the portal. That's it. Twilight added more wind to the fray, but the being before her simply ignored the pull of air around its soft form. She carved great chunks of stone from the ground, and swung them with ferocious strength, but Yami countered her spells easily, shrugging them aside. But Twilight did not panic until she saw black tendrils of energy coiling about her portal, the edges beginning to seal shut.

That's when Twilight became desperate enough to exert her incredible power directly against Yami, and a coruscation of rainbow force poured like a river from her horn. Then she felt the familiar, icy touch of Darkness twining about her soul. Yami's dead eyes blazed with triumph, and in a heartbeat it snapped the gate shut, the wind stilling instantly.

She found herself drawn into those bottomless eyes, the power calling to her, the Darkness mirrored by her own capacity for violence. Twilight had become familiar with that side of herself, familiar with the shadows in her heart, and through that connection Yami pulled. It didn't need to be let inside because she had already made that decision, already let it inside her. Oh sweet Celestia it was waiting for me to do this it was just toying with me waiting for me to make a mistake. . . The Elements of Harmony, Celestia's immortal power, even Twilight's soul felt like they began to siphon out of her eyes and mouth as the Void called to her.

Wait. Twilight's time in the shadows had left her without defense against the sick power twining through her. But that blade had to cut both ways, didn't it? Reflexively, Twilight tightened her grip on the shadows, gripped them back, and she did the only thing she could imagine in that moment. She pulled back, strove to haul the essence of Darkness out of Yami's grip by siphoning it into herself. She was only backed by the life of one half-dead world, but the driving will of the Void had to reach through what amounted to a small crack in the edge of their universe, and could not exert its full force.

The shadow magic that Yami had been building turned to mist between them, directionless. Twilight pulled with all her might, with every drop of magic she'd ever acquired, fueled by her need to protect her home, protect her friends. Perhaps she'd caught the ancient one by surprise. But for a brief moment she pulled Yami off-balance. The bitter cold of Void and shadows clouded the colors of her power like silt in a stream. Darkness began to eat into the glowing platinum of her eyes like the onset of an eclipse.

While Yami's magic was not entirely its own powerful wolf jaws snapped around the creature's spine, dragging it out of the air and to the ground. Instantly it savaged the gnarled thing with quick shakes of its powerful neck.

Yami tried to pull its power away from Twilight, to disentangle its magic from hers to defend itself. But the thick, rotten blood from its chosen form spattered in every direction, and its struggles grew weaker. With one last, desperate cry it suspended time, froze the breath in Twilight's lungs. Yet all it succeeded in doing was locking its power in Twilight's grip, rendering her unable to let go.

They were connected when she felt it die. Her ears cleared as the distracting tone in the air disappeared, and Twilight drew her first easy breath in what felt like ages. But as it went it took a piece of her with it back into the endless Void, and Twilight felt a small emptiness deep in her chest.

Haggard voices began to cheer. The voices of her friends. Yet she found she couldn't join them. As Twilight released her hold on the Elements she collapsed into blissful oblivion. The stones beneath her felt as comforting as clouds as the world faded to grey, then to black.

Comments

[Lelouch Vi Britania]

Hot damn that was awesome! The entire fight was excellently choreographed, but now I have to wait for the next chapter damn it.

[Lars]

Well, Twilight, you and your friends are getting thrashed and you're stuck in a Heroic BSOD. Things look pretty grim.
25.media.tumblr.com/eabd2f0925dfaa9c35725e5b9e7fac4c/tumblr_mvrlxnCn4o1qlj9yfo3_500.gif
There's not always a light in the darkness.
But in your darkness, there certainly is.

[Nuhri1995]

This is the kind of epic story that needs more views. It's just plain awesome. Sure, it may have it's few errors and what not, but I hardly notice these things with how amazing the story is. It has pulled me in, kept me awake longer than I should two times, made me frustrated when other things had to be done and it has made me feel honored that I had the chance to read it. So far, it has, quite simply, been awesome. Can hardly wait for more!

[Techgirl]

4091250 pretty much what he said you deserve more likes and views this is An EPIC I MEAN EPIC story. Maybe some ppl thing it has to many chapters to read and don't even look at it? That's my hypothesis at least because this is a great story and it has many chapters so I don't finish it TOO soon (no sarcasm here btw I really do like many chartered story's) your so considerate

Spoiler: (IDK how to make the spoiler line thing)

But Why dud you have to kill Tia WHYYYYYY

[Feo Takahari]

It feels like cheating to give up on the story this far in, but I just don't feel like I have any motivation to finish.

I know this is a bizarre comparison, but I kept thinking of Our Voices Carry Through the Hills. The genres are quite different (Hills is very tropey hurt/comfort femslash), but both are stories that bring in a level of violence and suffering that wouldn't be allowed in the original show, and both try to maintain a feeling that the story is still part of the MLP world and is still connected to MLP's morals. Hills is obviously inferior to Shores in everything from pacing to dialogue, but I liked and faved Hills, and I haven't done the same for Shores. I think I've finally figured out how to explain why.

Hills takes in new input and spits out new output, feeding pain, fear, and hope into a touching romance much deeper and more detailed than what's been seen in canon. Canon certainly has love, and a Princess thereof, but it couldn't and won't have a romance in quite the same way Hills does. It's not unique by fanfic standards, but it's still a creative work, building on canon to develop something new.

Shores builds on canon and likely weaknesses and fears, subjecting the protagonists to believable and horrific tortures that would make a Silent Hill protagonist wince. Then it papers over all that with the same sort of hope and friendship message that can be found in the show. While the threats are new, there's nothing transformative or even particularly creative about how they're dealt with, as the canon threats (personified and otherwise) are arguably defeated with the same general methods. After all the suffering you've brought to the table, it feels like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound.

I almost feel guilty over not liking a story written with such technical proficiency. But I just didn't feel as satisfied reading it as I did with the weaker, tropier Hills.