Streams of Consciousness

by Chromentazol

Twilight/1: Night

The moonlight faintly shone through the half-closed curtain of the Golden Oak library, illuminating a figure slumped over a large wooden desk. The figure, snoring quietly while using an opened book as an impromptu pillow, slowly opened an eye. She grumbled before getting up, rubbing her eyes with her purple hooves.

“What time is it?” she muttered while looking through the windows, staring at the moon. Her eyes then quickly glided across her room before finding a large wooden clock, its hands indicating a time most ponies would consider egregiously late — or ridiculously early. Twilight Sparkle wasn’t like most other ponies, however, the young mare considered the night to be a surprisingly productive period of the day. With a faint yawn and a quick spark of her horn, Twilight brought a new candle to her desk, the previous one having fully melted away while she slept. Lighting up the room, her eyes turned back on her desk and its contents.

She had no recollection of what she had been studying that previous evening. The large tome was an odd sight for the young librarian, evoking an uneasy feeling deep inside her. Unable to discern what exactly was bothering her, Twilight shoved her alien apprehension away in order to read the pages in front of her.

The text described some sort of historical event, though it was written in a most unusual way. The author’s sentences ran on to unbearable lengths, using dozens of words where a few would have sufficed. Furthermore, the descriptions of said events were so vague, Twilight was unable to figure out what exactly the pages were describing exactly. “Hm. Guess somepony got a cutie mark about beating around the bush,” she thought before closing the book, deciding to leave it for the upcoming day.

Her mind still fuzzy from her tired state, Twilight grew increasingly annoyed at her inability to remember what she was doing before falling asleep. Whatever this book was about, it had to have been captivating enough to bind the young mare to her desk, working herself to exhaustion. And yet, even after having read some of the book’s paragraphs, nothing came to her mind.

And as she placed the book back on her shelf, her feeling of uneasiness slowly trickled back into her, as if flowing from the tome itself. Staring at its blank cover, Twilight knew that she stood near an ocean of worry, of fear and anxiety. Something primal called from beyond the waters of the tome’s obscure knowledge, beckoning her to investigate its content and to run away at the same time.

She instinctively knew the book was old, written during a time long before her birth, and yet it was also in mint condition, barely out of the printing press. She knew whoever had made that book didn’t even have the time to finish the cover, causing its blank sides to be completely devoid of any information.

Then, the trickle intensified. Twilight’s veins filled with ice-cold water, freezing her in fear. Her mind flooded with countless voices, all ushering her to stay motionless, to run away, to read, to burn the book, to protect it with her life, to ignore it.

She was slowly drowning, her thoughts slowly being replaced by other voices, other minds from ages long past and from times that have yet to come. Her sanity slowly slipping away, the world around her began to shift away, replaced by otherworldly hues of lights hiding moving ethereal shadows, swimming just outside her peripheral vision, inching closer and closer to her. And just as they lunged toward the petrified purple mare, a voice called out to her.

“Twilight, can you hear me?”

Jolting back to reality, Twilight saw a small dragon standing in front of her, a worried expression adorning his face. Spike was clinging to one of Twilight’s forelegs, though relief washed over him when his sister came back to her senses.

“Wh… What? Where… What’s going on?” she asked, her voice still strained from her recent visions.

“Uh… I dunno,” Spike said softly. “You… You started screaming and woke me up. I ran here and saw you… Just standing, hyperventilating. Staring at nothing.”

“What? I don’t… I was…” Twilight’s words quickly choked in her throat. What was she doing, exactly? Why was she standing in the middle of the room?

What caused her to feel like she was just about to perish?

Her mind drew a blank. With no memories of what could have caused her to seemingly scream out of nowhere, she nuzzled Spike in an attempt to comfort the still-shaken dragon. “I’m sorry, Spike. Guess I had a nightmare.”

“Oh yeah? What… What was it about?”

“It… Doesn’t matter. I’m fine, now, Go back to bed, I’ll be heading to sleep too.”

“Are you sure?”

She chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure. Thanks for checking on me, too. I guess I just… Overworked myself.”

With one last glance, Spike hugged Twilight before sheepishly going back to bed, though sleep would not come to him that night. Twilight, however, felt oddly relaxed. She looked at the unlit candle on her desk and smiled as she exited the room. Slowly closing the door behind her, her eyes stopped on the shelf she had been staring at, a spot now vacant.

She closed the door.

Comments

[Starlight Nova]

How long do you see the chapters getting?

[Chromentazol]

11822193
I don't think I'll ever go above 7k-8k words per chapter, but it mostly depends on the chapter itself and my general motivation when writing

[TheronActs]

Time taken to wrought words and sentences of minds alike, to remove the impurities of function in describing events. However so, remained calm, a book is not written without faults. Do take time for it would bring peace of mind, not the expectations of duty.