Timberjack: Season 1 - Heart of Oak

by True Edge

1:10 Withered Dreams

Author's Note:

So, this isn't quite all I had meant to write for this chapter, but I hit a good stopping point, and I feel like it's been a bit longer than I'd like without an upload, so . . . here ya go!

We have one more chapter, if it all works out the way I intend, and then we'll be done with Episode One! Also, I'm having some ideas that don't fit in perfectly with the overall story here, but that I'd like to do.

As such, in order to keep Timberjack from getting too muddied, I may well be starting work on a side series of stand-alone one shots set in the same universe, mostly involving stories of a more . . . Horror/Sci-Fi persuasion.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! Let me know what you think with a comment down below, and maybe hit the like button if you've not already. It's amazing how nice it makes me feel when I see that counter go up. That said, positive feedback in the comments is even nicer!

Have a good day, all! Until next time! Harmonia Invictus!

There

You are unware of where you are.

The light flickers and dances around you, and through it, images appear. Feelings, emotions, thoughts and ideas bubble up from a well within you, and yet you are somehow aware that they are not your own. You feel fear, pain, love, lust, hate and envy, and a bone deep need . . . a need for recognition, for inclusion. To be a part of everything around you, and yet you somehow know that you are always and ever apart.

Through the lights and the fog of the strange place you find yourself in, you see a pair of young fillies, unicorns, running through a field of flowers and high grass, laughing and playing. One is noticeably older than the other, probably twelve years of age, around six or seven years the elder of the other. She was starting to have the gangly, long limbed appearance of one on the cusp of young adulthood. Her fur was pale, so pale it may as well have been white, though her soft pink mane and tail brought out highlights of that color within it. Her eyes were a deep, soft rose color, that seemed like it sparkled with laughter. You knew those eyes.

In spite of her age, it is immediately apparent that she does not yet have her cutie mark.

The younger filly gallops awkwardly alongside the elder, he dark blue fur and light, soft blue mane and tail standing apart from the pale colors of who you knew to be her older sister. She had an odd marking, like a birthmark, on her flanks; large, black splotches that covered both sides. However, she, too, was without a cutie mark.

Both fillies tumbled and jumped through the grass, a windmill visible in the distance, as they played and laughed. . . .

And a young tree stood before you, its genus lost on you in its pure beauty, its leaves a deep, glowing silver, its bark a soft gold. It radiated a soft feeling of hope and love and warmth. . .

And the image morphed, shifting, as fear became a prevalent feeling, along with some strange sense of duty. The lights around you whirled and flickered in a rainbow of colors, as you became aware of some image . . . a stone balcony, as of a great, old castle, and the air around you was thick with magic, like ozone on your fur, in your mane. It spun and danced through the air like an aurora, and through it you saw the fillies, older now, the eldest in her middle teens, easily, and both with cutie marks. The older, pale unicorn had a sun wheel emblazoned on her flanks, while the younger had a crescent moon, which seemed to lay perfectly against the dark markings of her own fur.

And, as you watched, the spell they were trying to weave built into a crescendo, the power such that their manes floated as they were lifted from the ground, in the current of magic that lifted then and entwined around their souls. . . .

The tree now stood, a great specimen of its kind, whatever that may be, the glow coming from it bright and powerful. . . .

As the pair stood, the same but different,, horns and wings both aloft as they faced down some great beast you vaguely recognized as a cyclops. They stood upon the burning rubble of a building, winged figures, only half seen and unimportant, flying around in circles, while the sisters stared down the beast.

With a roar, it charged them, lifting a massive, wooden club, the size of a large tree, above its head. And both their horns lit as one, and the image shifted.

A great crevasse had opened in the ground, and somehow you knew that the beast had fallen into its depths. The winged creatures circled, and somehow you felt their love and adoration, their gratitude, and it filled you, made you shine.

Shine like the tree, which now was so bright in its glory that you could not really make out its features any more. However, even as the image began to shift, you thought you felt, more than saw, a flicker of darkness along the peripheral.

Then, you were standing in a place at once familiar and alien, that you recognized as the courtyard of the ancient castle in the Everfree, and yet this place was clean, bustling and full of ponies. Ponies that stood below, looking up at you, no, at the two sisters, who stood looking down at them. They both now wore crowns, one of regal gold, the other of blackened steel.

You somehow knew they had defeated some great evil. They had freed the ponies of Equestria from a terrible threat. And yet, something did not quite feel right. You saw the younger, darker sister look aside and frown slightly. You felt that she was unnerved by the crowd cheering below, but also that she enjoyed it, just as she had the adulation of the Griffins, once before.

But now, seemingly without thinking, her sister stepped forward, slightly, face alight, rosy eyes sparkling, as she moved ahead of the younger sibling. The sun shone from above, and the elder sister, still taller than the younger, even now they were fully grown, cast a shadow over the other mare's features. . . .

The tree was visible again, and it still glowed brightly, its beauty greater than anything found in nature, in the real, waking world. And yet, as you watched, a leaf came free and fell slowly towards the blank expanse of nothing the tree seemed to grow from. . .

And that darkness, again, writhed at the edges of your vision, the image flickering away before you could see what it was. . . .

A battle had occured. You knew this, as you had known things so far, as a feeling, a sudden understanding of something, without real imagery. You only knew this battle had been fierce, and long, and bloody, and it had not ended well.

You watched as the sisters, both clad in armor befitting their themes, stood upon the balcony in the castle again, though now it was subdued, ponies staring up without cheering, some weeping openly, while the eldest spoke. You could not hear words, but you knew somehow that the speech was sorrowful, but also uplifting, picking the crowd up from their sadness while also joining them in it.

As you watched, the crowd rose, faces glowinbg in the late afternoon sunlight, and ponies began to cheer, and wave their hooves, and even sing. And all of it was for her. They cheered for her. They waved their hooves and danced for her. They sang for HER!u

You felt it, then: An anger, burning deep within you, like nothing you'd ever felt, fed by the timber of your hope, and of the spite that you could feel gnawing on the edges of your heart.

They were Sisters. They were meant to be equals! And yet . . . She called herself Queen, while you . . . No, not you, but yes, you, but not . . . Thou were but a Princess in her shadow!

In her shadow.

In shadow.

The tree now lay in shadow, the glow of its leaves but a dull flicker, the bark a peeling darkness. Leaves lay, dead and curled, around it in piles of sad, pale corpses, as more fell from the branches above, and around it. . .

Slithering, clinging, crawling and climbing, the dark, twisted forms of vile, thorned vines wrapped around the trunk of the tree, growing out along the branches, slowly creeping up the height of it, and everywhere they touched, the long, curved thorns dug in deeply, and from those wounds a pure, silvery white blood leaked, staining the trunk. . . .

It was time they learned how to love the moon as much as the sun, or they might never see either again.

---

Here

Rainbow Dash had panicked, just a little, when she looked out the window and spotted Rarity laying in a crumpled heap in the courtyard below, next to a . . . bear, or something. However, she had little time to process this, as she heard an enraged snarl from somewhere behind her, and turned to see Flutterbat thrashing a suit of armor. The steel plate went flying, covered in dents the size and shape of the normally meek pegasus' hooves, and Rainbow Dash looked up, gulping, as the yellow pony caught sight of her, and her lips curled back, revealing dripping fangs and a long, slender tongue.

"Nuts!" Dash swore, and dove to the side just as the batpony leaped, clearing the distance between them in a flash, and smashed into the wall, cracking one of the heavy cobblestones that made up the interior wall of the corridor.

Pain shot through Dash's body, but she barely had time to think about it. Scrambling to her hooves, she went running down the corridor, practically feeling the hot breath of the vampire at her fetlocks. Internally, she swore with every step, but she had practiced running enough to know how to control her breathing.

That said, she was also in pain, and suffering from fairly severe bloodloss. As such, it was little surprise that she barely made it halfway down the hall, before something snagged her tail, and she fell in a tumble, landing on her back. Immediately, the yellow mare was on her, pinning her to the floor, snarling into her face.

"Fluttershy!" Dash squeaked, and watched the vampire hesitate a moment, eyes seeming to clear a bit. She took a breath, hoping to say something, anything to capitalize on this moment.

And then, Pinkie Pie barreled into Fluttershy from the side, and sent both of them tumbling across the floor.

"Godsdamnit, Pinkie!" Dash swore, blinking up at the ceiling.

Rolling painfully to her hooves, she looked around, and saw the pair of ponies. They tumbled to a stop, and Pinkie rolled off of Fluttershy and bounced up to her hooves with a grin. "Tag, Fluttershy, you're it!" She exclaimed, before darting off towards an arched doorway at the end of the corridor.

Fluttershy snarled and leaped to the air with a beat of her wings, taking off after Pinkie with a hiss.

"Shit." Dash said, sighing, and began to limp after them as quickly as she could. "Ow. Ow. Ow."

---

Then

You watched her come through the doors to the throne room. Saw then the anger and confusion on her face, as she demanded to know why the moon did not set, even as her sun rose. You snapped, then, and told her. Told her that which was in her your heart, which was in your mind.

And you saw them, those sniveling cowards, courtiers and nobles, who followed her around like hounds with their noses in her rear, begging for a scrap from her table, fawning over her, and always, always, she smiled and accepted them, as they threw their adoration over her like a blanket.

And you were left cold, and alone.

You snapped at her and snapped at them, and watched the fear and hate on their faces, and felt your magic growing.

An ancient practice, used by powerful mages for centuries, to make themselves stronger, and terrifying in combat. A spell that used a lot of energy, but gave it back tenfold, until such time as it was released.

You felt it, ready in your mind without you even thinking about it, and it gave you pause. Were you really ready to do that? To fight? To declare war on your own sister?

And then, with a huff and an angry glare, Celestia turned. "Fine! If you shall not lower your moon, and instead act as a child, then I will do it for you!" She snapped, horn lighting, and you felt her magic push through yours, shoving it aside and grab a hold of the moon.

Your moon.

And that answered your question.

With a scream of rage that felt like acid and flame burning its way up your throat from your stomach, you unleashed the spell, and felt your magic twine around your body, like a tornado of indigo fire that swept over you, lightning flickering through the air as it passed, like a swift and terrible storm, and looking down upon them you knew what they saw, and their fear made you cackle.

You saw them, these sniveling hounds and wealthy beggars, the "pride" of Equestria, stumble over their own hooves as they tried to flee, screaming like foals. Saw the door burst open, admitting four stallions, all wearing that ugly, garish gold armor that Celestia insisted they wear. Saw your sister turn, eyes wide in shock, just before your horn lit.

Your magic struck her like a shot, bowling her over and knocking her through the air, to crash through one of the pillars near the entrance, and then right through the wall, and out into the courtyard.

With another scream of anger, you reached out, your magic building, and your moon shifted, aligining where you wanted it, even as you grabbed a hold of her sun, and with a guttural sound in your chest, forced it down below the horizon.

As sudden darkness fell, the guards made for you, yelling and brandinshing spears and one, a unicorn battlemage, igniting his horn. With a snarl and a narrow of your eyes, your horn lit, batting the first two aside, to strike the wall hard enough to crack the stone, only to fall limp.

The mage fired his spell, and you glanced aside, the magic fizzling out midair and dissipating at your command. With a snort, you struck him down, throwing him into one of the pillars, before turning to watch the final guard rushing out the door, calling for help.

You reached out for him, grabbing him in your magic, feeling it squeeze around his throat, and felt something inside you, then . . . something dark and twisted, and it wanted pain. It wanted to hurt the guard, to kill. You blinked your eyes, hesitating, and that's when it struck you. A blast of energy that felt like pure fire across your fur. You went spinning backwards, smashing through your sister's throne, breaking it in half and quickly being buried by a half ton of polished marble.

---

Now

Pinkie had not had this much fun in ages, and that was saying something. She was worried about her friends, new and old, of course, but still . . .

Playing 'Catch Me If You Can' with Flutterbat was amazing! She wished she'd known about Fluttershy's little secret earlier!

It wasn't too hard to keep ahead of the vampire, of course, not for her. If you'd asked her how she was able to do so, she would not have been able to tell you. She knew it was something most ponies, especially earth ponies, could not have done, but she just . . . did. It was like blinking, or twitching your tail, something you could just do without thinking about how or why. A reflex action, almost.

Still, the most harrowing, and exciting, moment of the chase so far had been going up the winding staircase. The tight stone walls, and slick stone steps, covered in moss and lichen in places, made for a near claustrophobic, slippery ascent at top speed. Still, she kept out ahead, but barely.

Popping out of the staircase, she found herself in a long, dark corridor, lined with rusty old suits of armor, tattered, moth eaten tapestries and crumbling torch sconces. Oh, and doors, all down one side.

Perfect!

She turned, smiling at Flutterbat as the vampire came snarling up the stairs behind her, fangs flashing. The pink pony stuck her tongue out, giggling, before she flexed that muscle that it seemed nopony else really had. She didn't fall through space and time, like a unicorn seemed to when they teleported, nor did she split apart at a subatomic level and reorganize herself, or a clone of herself, rather, at some other point. That would just be crazy.

No, it was more like she blinked, and then was simply sat inside one of the suits of armor. She watched as Flutterbat, snarling in rage at having lost sight of her, went streaking past. She wasn't sure how a creature so good at hunting could not smell her, but it was yet another thing she simply did not think about or question. Still, Flutterbat not knowing where she was wasn't very fun. She should let her know.

She was about to lift the visor on the helm and shout, when she felt something, a tremor that tingled through her body, across her tail and down one leg. Somepony was sleeping in, it seemed. Suddenly, she had a more interesting thing to think about, than Flutterbat, and so she blinked again, and found herself outside the suit of armor, standing in front of a door to a room.

She could feel magic radiating off of the door and, dimly, as though from the edges of her vision, rather than something she was looking right at, she saw sigils and runes carved into the frame around it. A protective spell, like the one Rarity had once put on her secret stash of chocolate to keep Pinkie out. In Pinkie's experience, though, such things only worked on her when it would be amusing for it to do so. Like a lot of things.

Hoping this wasn't a comically inconvenient moment, she reached out and pressed a hoof to the door. The sigils and runes all glowed brightly . . . before burning out with a little popping noise, and the door creaked open, loudly.

Down the hall, FLutterbat snarled, and her wings flapped.

"Oh, Crackers!" Pinkie exclaimed. Often times, things also didn't work on her when it was comically convenient. Leaping forward, she pushed the door open, then turned and slammed it shut, just as the snarling face of Flutterbat could be seen on the other side. The vampire slammed into the door, making it shake in its frame, and Pinkie actually felt the strain in her legs as the creature of the night battered on the door. Many ponies underestimated her strength, seeing her as a small, pudgy mare with little muscle. This wasn't untrue, but it also wasn't true, either. Pinkie had grown up on a rock farm, and even though she'd lost some muscle mass in exchange for fat over the last ten years in Ponyville, she still knew how to use her strength to advantage.

She also knew how to make use of her oddites to aid her in such situations. Her tail lashed out like a bullwhip, snagging a heavy wardrobe that was . . . oddly still very solid, in spite of how long it must've sat in this room, and tugged it over. She leaped back, just as the wardrobe landed across the door, barricading it. The door vibrated in its frame for a moment longer, before going silent. Outside, a snarl and the flap of wings signaled Flutterbat leaving.

Pinkie hoped she didn't go after Dashie, again, but trusted in her Sense to let her know if she needed to be there to help.

Feeling that odd sensation again, her Sense telling her that somepony who should really be up was not, she turned and examined the room. It was a large, old room with plastered walls, which had been painted with murals of the sun and bright blue skies. The edges of the windows, the baseboards, all of that, looked to have been gilded, though the gold leaf had either worn away or been covered over with a dark patina. The furniture was heavy oak or mahogany, and all of it, like the wardrobe, seemed to have somehow been enchanted to last much longer than it should have.

This included a heavy, ancient vanity, the mirror set into it was, at one time, polished copper, though it too was now covered in a thick green patina, and a large, old, four-poster bed, its drapes, as well, somehow far less damaged than they should have been, after so long unused.

From within, behind those drapes, something was breathing softly.

Moving forward on tip-hooves that still had the floor creaking . . . even though it was made from stone, Pinkie stopped beside the bed. "Helloooo? Is anypony a sleepy head?" She said, softly, standing up on her rear hooves and reaching for the drapes.

At which point, the window behind her exploded inwards in a shower of old glass and rotted wood. The dirty yellow form of Flutterbat burst through from the night sky outside, with a high, shrieking cry, tongue hanging out over fangs that glistened wetly, even as her wings snapped open behind her, leathery surfaces catching the air and halting her forward momentum.

Pinkie gasped and leaped backwards, tangling in the drapes, legs kicking and thrashing, tail flicking, even as the figure below somehow continued sleeping. The vampire pony beat her wings, zipping across the room and coming to a halt in front of Pinkie Pie, where the earth pony hung, now, tangled and suspended in the drapes, her limbs still thrashing, one hoof catching the blanket below her and pulling it half off the figure below.

Pinkie's struggling came to a slow halt as the growling form of the vampire came within a few inches of her, red hot eyes glaring into soft blue ones. The pink pony grinned awkwardly and giggled. "Hehe . . heeee . . . Heya, Fluttershy . . . How're you?" She wheezed.

THe vampire moved forward, tongue sliding out over fangs, eyes completely devoid of emotion or recognition of the pony in front of her. Pinkie started struggling again, and this spurred the vampire into leaping. Pinkie squealed, and the two of them fell, struggling.

And as they did, both their eyes caught sight of the sun.

And the bat pony screamed. Not a snarl, or a roar, or the shriek she'd given when she burst through the window. This was a scream, and while Pinkie was always up for a bit of a screaming contest from time to time, this was something else. She thought her eardrums were going to burst, or at least do a rimshot followed by a double bass roll and an epic fill, and she fell, hooves clutching her head, eyes watering from the volume, as the bat pony staggered back, fell over the side of the bed, and then shot away. It seemed she'd forgotten the open window, as she chose instead to try and burst straight out the door, wardrobe and all.

She almost succeeded, as well, smashing the wardrobe to splinters as she flew through it, but then she hit the door. Which, it seemed, had recharged and rebooted its little enchantment since Pinkie had closed it. One touch of the vampony's hooves sent a burst of magical lightning through her, her body frozen for a moment as her fur and hair all stood on end. Pinkie though she saw her skeleton through her skin for a moment, before the bat pony was suddenly thrown away from the door to smash into the wall beside the window. She then slid down to the floor below, eyes half open, chest rising and falling shallowly, clearly dazed. As she watched, Pinkie saw the other mare's features return to a semblance of normalcy.

Taking a breath, Pinkie worked to extricate herself from the drapes, finally succeeding as she fell of the side of the bed with a thump. She rose with a pained groan, and looked back to the bed, to where that image of the sun had been, and saw it again, now clearly plastered on possibly the largest flank she'd ever seen. She ran her eyes up the pale, still sleeping form in the bed, to the gently flowing aurora of a mane, and smiled.

"Ohhhhh. So that's who the sleepyhead is!"

---

In Moonlight's Embrace

You felt the scream rip from your throat as you poured more energy into your horn, a blast of pure, raw magic channeling out of your horn in a bright, azure beam that slashed through the night sky, impacting the golden sphere that encompassed your sister. You could barely see her past the light, and almost felt it a grace, that you were saved looking at her smug, self-important face.

As more power funneled into your 'spell', if you really wanted to call such a clumsy use of power a spell, you could feel it as the shield spell began to crack. You could barely believe it. You . . . you were overpowering her! Celestia, who had always been known as the strong one, always the one with the power, was buckling under your strength! You had always known that your battle form was powerful but this . . .

Momentarily, the thoughts flickered through your mind, a small voice, that should have been easy to ignore, and yet it seemed loud in this moment. Why had your sister not taken her battle form? Why was she only putting up a shield, when you knew that defense was not her strongest suit?

Why was she not fighting back?

That did not MATTER! All that mattered was that you were winning! Finally, after all these years, all these decades, you were going to show her, show all of them that you were just as good . . .no, you were better than her! And then, maybe, finally . . . They would love you as much as they did her.

And, maybe, she would show you the respect you deserved.

The scream tore itself from your throat, hard enough you felt like you had damaged something, even as your horn burned and your head ached, and the beam flared white hot. And you felt her shield crack, shattering into a hundred sparks of flickering magic that fell like stardust upon the burning city below you. You had already shown the power of the mind, earlier, before your rage had totally consumed you.

And the city burned for it, ponies screaming in terror in the streets as they were assailed by demons of the mind, forms of nightmare.

And now, she fell. You watched your sister tumble through the sky, struck down by your magic like a bug from a flame. She spun and tumbled, and fell through the roof of the castle's main foyer, shattering stoen and tile in her passage.

With a tuck of your wings and an exhausted, triumphant grin, you followed, the wind whipping past your head, whistling in your ears, and for a moment that rush sounded like applause, adulation and adoration in equal measure as you stood in the light, feeling its warmth on your fur. . . .

You shot through the hole, snapping your wings open to bring yourself to a level hover, looking down at the floor. Blood streaked it, a trail leading away from an impact crater, where Celestia had landed. Following the trail, your eyes found your sister, trying to move towards the front door, as though she would find escape outside. You felt something, a momentary twinge in your heart as you saw the bleeding wounds that covered her.

You shook yourself free of that moment of sentiment. How often had you been hurt, and she showed no care to you?!

But she did care. The small voice spoke, but you drowned it under your rage.

Lies! She cared only for herself! She never gave you the dues you deserved! And it was time she saw that. Igniting your horn, you launched yourself forward, your magic aura reaching out and snatching her up from the floor. You brought her up to you, twisting her harshly in your magical grasp, and she gasped, looking up, rose eyes meeting your own sapphire orbs, and you stopped, for a moment.

"L . . . Lu. . . " She gasped, barely able to speak past your grasp on her throat.

"NO!" You snapped, your rage boiling over at the foalhood nickname. "Not anymore! You let them call me what they wished! So now, that is what I shall be! Luna no more! I . . . am Nightmare Moon!" You snarled, baring the fangs of this form at her, and watching her face twist in a grimace of fear and pain, before you took wing, twisting in the air lithely and, with a whip of your head, sent your pathetic sister flying.

She struck the wall near the front door, smashing through it like a shot, knocking stones many times her own mass free and sending them crumbling to the ground outside, while she disappeared from view. Leering, feeling hate and anger fueling you, you flapped your wings and followed her, feeling satisfaction in your heart as well, as you flew outside and saw ponies cowering nearby in fear, shock and horror on their worthless, sun-loving faces as they beheld you.

You spread your wings, staying aloft more through magic than flight, as you looked at them, vaguely aware of your sister, crumpled on the ground nearby. "Ponies of Equestria!" You shouted, voice blaring loudly, magically enchanted to echo around the city, to reach every subject. "BOW! Bow before your new Queen!! Who's sight you fled and love you rejected! Now, Love me! Love me or despair!" You looked upon them, feeling your smile grow, cold and cracked, as they recoiled, some actively weeping. "For if you do not love me, then your precious sun shall never return! And this, my beautiful night, shall last forever!" You finished, feeling a maddened, painful cackle, almost more sob than laugh, burst forth as you beheld the fear you had begot.

"Luna." Her voice spoke, broken and pained, and you turned to see your sister leaning against the base of the statue built to honor the Elements of Harmony, as though they needed such physical representation, over that which lay in the heart of their Bearers. Celestia looked up at you, and you met her eyes as her horn dimly started to glow. "Please." She said, and you sneered, but, for just a moment, found yourself doubting.

You shook it off, before conjuring to your side a spear, made purely from raw magical energy. "If you will not love me . . . will not respect me . . . then to Tartarus with you, Celestia!" You snarled, your rage guiding you as you leaped forward, brandishing the spear, with every intent in that moment, to plunge it into her heart and watch her die.

And then her horn lit brightly, not with her own golden aura, but with a rainbow of hues . . . and the six spheres of the statue began to glow as well. What? No! The thought shot through your mind, along with a burst of confusion and panic as you felt something, something ingrained deep inside, down to the depths of your very soul, rend itself apart and shatter.

And then you felt, more than saw, a whirling mass of rainbow light begin to encircle you. The magical spear at your side vaporized as though it never existed, and you began to feel yourself being pulled. This was not a physical sensation, as your body was stuck, hovering in the air, held by a force not your own, but rather . . . somewhere inside, in that same place that had broken, something there was being pulled, back and up, away from you. You turned, thrashing, and were only vaguely aware of the feeling as you struggled against this magic, so much older than you, and looked back to see the face of the moon, shining and bright, behind you.

In that moment, you felt something shift, and felt the power pulling on you grow stronger, and more directed, and then . . . you felt fear, and doubt, and you spun back, desperation, panic and sudden realization, of all you had done, all you had intended to do, coming together at once in your mind as you locked eyes with your sister, seeing her staring, gaping and wide eyed with shock, shaking her head slightly, trying to step forward on one injured leg.

"Tia." You said, softly, feeling tears welling in your eyes.

Then you felt everything you knew be ripped apart, and the world disintegrated into a swirling, black nothing, which soon turned white around you. . . .

. . . . And then Twilight Sparkle awoke, gasping and struggling on the floor of Luna's old bedroom, eyes wide and darting back and forth as she tried to escape from the inevitable pull of that magic, so great and powerful, so much older than herself, or anything she had ever thought could exist.

As her struggles slowed, she rolled to her stomach, looking up, and blinked. Luna, still wearing the terrifying shape of her battle form, sat on the edge of the bed, helm in her forehooves, looking . . . tired.

The Mare of the Moon slowly looked up at the younger mare, and sighed. "So . . . Now, you know."

Comments

[zachary12]

nice work

[My dearest]

This story is great! I really like how you handled the flashbacks, showing the past but also continuing with the present.

[True Edge]

11128302
Thank you! I'm glad you like it!

[GreatDragonLord]

Of course, this view of history is very interesting. For example, that Twilight didn't become some kind of super friendly in just one episode, or that Nightmare's antics really pose a danger to the "heroes".
But (there is always a "but") I was surprised that the actions were moving so slowly. I'm not saying it's bad by any means, it's just surprising.
I look forward to continuing.

[True Edge]

11132500
I always felt that, realistically speaking, the events of the Series Premiere happened way too fast. We're to expect that these six become friends in the very brief time that they spend traveling to the castle. While it's true, being together during life threatening circumstances can form strong bonds, it still felt too rushed, to me. They need more time to talk, get to know each other, etc.

And, yes, the fact that nothing Nightmare did to them in the original episodes was actually all that threatening was . . . understandable, for the period in the show. They were hesitant to show any kind of real peril before, say, season 3, maybe? Again, I understand it from the view of the showstaff.

However, for this universe, that's just not gonna cut it. There needed to be some stakes. Also, struggling to show the fact that, while she has done these things, Luna's not evil, nor is she possessed. At least, not by some demonic entity or evil alter ego. She's just alone, and angry, and sad and doesn't know what else to do. Loss of hope is the worst thing that can happen to someone.

It'll be a bit. I'm kinda toying with some other ideas, at the moment, but I am working on the next chapter. It'll be the last one for the premier, as I said, and then we'll be moving on to other episodes, and back to . . . at least partially focus on Applejack once more.

I'm super glad that you're enjoying the story! Thank you for the comment!

[Moproblems Moharmoney]

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Plus isn't there some implication the power up spell is like an artificial high ? She's trying to regain sensible control but most of her is too out of it.