Twilight Sparkle is severely injured in a mysterious accident, and her friends must face the fact that she may never recover. Meanwhile, the comatose alicorn must fight to escape from her own inner demons.
Fair warning fillies and gentlecolts! I previously had this story with the "gore" tag on due to a pretty thorough description of a certain pony's injuries in chapter one. However, I have since un-tagged it since I don't think it reflects the story as a whole.
A story I was writing for National Pony Writing Month 2013, before I completely gave up on finishing in the time limit. Posted here in the hopes that constructive criticism might help keep me motivated to continue.
A mysterious late night accident strikes Twilight Sparkle, leaving her in the hospital indefinitely.
Now her friends must find a way to keep going, faced with the knowledge that she may not recover.
How will their friendship survive the hardships brought on by such a tragedy? How will Equestria fair with its most powerful defense compromised?
Meanwhile, Twilight finds herself trapped in darkness. Her body crippled, her magic lost, and her friends nowhere to be found. Can she escape this void? Or will she succumb to her greatest fears and let the darkness consume her entirely?
In retrospect, a lot of this story is kind of inspired by "Playing With My Heart" by obabscribbler. I'm totally not trying to rip off that story, but I wanted to acknowledge that there are some thematic similarities. So, yeah. Go look it up when you're done reading whatever I've actually managed to post so far. You won't regret it.
Twilight blinked a few times, or she thought she did. She felt her eyelids moving but there was no change in the light. She waved a hoof experimentally in front of her face. Nothing.
Wherever she was, it was completely, absolutely, utterly dark. A darkness that couldn't possibly exist. She felt neither warm nor cold, and the air was utterly still and silent. Too silent.
She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let out the loudest shout she possibly could. Rivaling Princess Luna's Royal Equestrian Voice from the feel of it. She yelled until she ran out of breath, but to no avail. She heard nothing. Any sound she may have made died long before reaching her ears.
'Think, Twilight' She told herself. 'Stay calm, assess the situation, evaluate your options.' The words were from an old book she'd read as a filly, advice on dealing with unknown scenarios. 'You can't see or hear anything. What about your other senses?'
Smell. She sniffed a few times, drawing in air that was neither warm nor cold and neither dry nor humid. Nothing.
'Smell is caused by receptors in the nasal cavity reacting to airborne particles. No smell means no particles.' She thought, forcing herself to remain calm. 'A completely airtight room perhaps? No, because then I wouldn't be able to breathe, would I?'
Taste, she decided was currently unimportant as there was no way it would help her to analyze her current situation.
Touch then. She thought back as far as she could, in this case only a few short minutes, and tried to remember.
'Do I feel anything right now?' She asked herself. She had just enough time to consider what an odd question that was before her mind was washed away by an overwhelming flood of sensation. One thing and one thing only dominated her body. Pain.
Every muscle ached and throbbed as if she'd worked it to the breaking point. It vaguely reminded Twilight of the time Rainbow Dash had insisted on teaching her to fly. After the first lesson she had scarcely been able to walk, newly aware of how minute and flawlessly controlled adjustments of every muscle were required for proper flight. This was far worse than that though, a dull burning that pervaded every fiber of every muscle. And it was still the least of her problems.
Her left wing felt as if it was full of broken glass, jagged shards that ripped and tore at them from within. She tried to stretch it, only to be rewarded with a fresh burst of agony. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, burning as the salty liquid ran across a landscape of cuts and abrasions. The right wing was worse, feeling in it reduced to a heaviness and a dull and terrible throbbing in the joint. Beyond that, there was only cold numbness. She shook as she felt the muscles moving in a way that she instinctively knew was wrong.
Twilight tried feebly to get up off the ground, groaning as she felt at least two or three broken ribs shift in her side. The jagged ends of the breaks tore again at her ravaged muscles as her lungs spasmed. She tasted blood as she coughed and fresh spikes of pain filled her. She collapsed back to the ground, feeling another dagger of pain digging deep into her abdomen. Somehow both colder than ice and hotter than fire, it was a ripping, tearing sensation. Her tears flowed even more freely now, sides heaving with ragged sobs that left her moaning and shivering with pain.
Her rear legs refused to move at all, and the slightest effort to force them drew an unheard whimper from her.
'Broken' She thought, once the veil of bright red pain had somewhat receded. 'In at least four places.' The pain was still there, more powerful than before even, but rather than cloud her mind it had brought a kind of perverse and detached lucidity. 'I need to see this, I don't want to look but I have to.'
It was with this thought that she drew on her magic, a spell to conjure a floating orb of light. The build of energy began, power flowing from the core of her body along a specialized offshoot of the nervous system to her horn. Instead of a ball of light, however, she was rewarded with a burst of pain that sent daggers of agony deep into her head. Her forehoof slid up, muscles screaming protest as she surely did more damage to her already battered body, and encountered not a smooth spire of bone but a jagged and splintered stump. Her eyes burned from the renewed tears and she screamed, the ragged pain in her throat a testament to a sound she could not hear.
'My horn.' She thought, shaking as the darkness quietly surrounded her. 'My horn my horn my horn.' For a unicorn to lose her horn was the most unthinkable, most unspeakable and agonizing thing imaginable. It was the worst of all possible things. Not even in her worst nightmares had Twilight imagined this fate befalling her. Any other injury could be healed by somepony with the right spell and knowledge, but a broken horn was permanent. While the bony spire could be regrown with time and care, the extremely delicate and complex system of nerves that channeled the energy of magic to its focal point was irreparable.
It was at this point, she thought as the lucidity she had felt rapidly faded, that she should have lost consciousness. Nopony could suffer such grievous harm without going into shock and passing out. Yet the blissful embrace of unconsciousness never came. There was nothing in this place but darkness and pain and fear.
She wished desperately for that sweet nothingness to overtake her, but to no avail. She sat in the darkness, ragged sobs wracking her ravaged body, and waited. Waited for anything that might end this torment, anything that might bring relief from the relentless agony. She wept and she waited, but no end came.
“I wish my friends were here.” She whispered. The words fell away, unheard even by the one who spoke them. “I wish I wasn't alone.”
Spike
A small green dragon sat on the rock hard cushion of the remarkably uncomfortable chair. A dozen more just like it lined the walls of Ponyville Hospital's waiting room. Some were filled but most sat empty as the clock on the wall slowly ticked away the hours.
He had been sitting in the same chair since shortly after 3 o'clock in the morning, when a sudden and ear-splitting scream had awakened him. His dream about living in a house made of ice cream with a certain white unicorn shattered in an instant.
“Twilight?” He called, making his way to the staircase that had led from the bedrooms above to the main library. “Is everything okay?” He made his way slowly down the stairs, his pupils dilating to compensate for the darkness. His careful step made contact not with cold hard wood, but with something warm and faintly sticky. An odd, harsh, metallic smell reached his nostrils. He jumped, nearly losing his balance. A thick gloom filled the room below, and he fumbled for a light. A candle sat in a holder nearby, and with a careful application of flame he lit it. Using its meager illumination, he found the switch that turned on the lights throughout the rest of the room. A shocked scream left his mouth as he saw what lie in wait.
The stairs were spattered liberally with dark crimson drops and stains. These grew larger and more numerous as they descended. At the base of the staircase began a long trail, as if something had been dragged along as it bled. The trail led to the room's center, to a table littered with books of all kinds. Slumped at the base of the table was a heap of purple fur and feathers in a spreading pool of blood. Its sides heaved weakly as Spike watched.
The small dragon backed away, his legs bumping against the stair behind him. One claw came down in a puddle of blood and slipped, sending him bouncing down the remaining length of the staircase. He came to a rest at the edge of the drag-marks, the thick metallic smell filling his nose and mouth. He scrambled away and got to his feet, panic setting in as he tried to decide what to do. At this hour of the morning none of the others would be awake, and he couldn’t leave Twilight to go and get them. Besides, he thought, what if whatever did this to her was still around?
That left only one option that he could think of. Dashing to the writing desk, he pulled out a quill and scroll. In hasty but legible writing he scrawled a letter. At the top, in letters more than twice the size of the others, he wrote one word: EMERGENCY. Not even bothering to properly roll and seal the letter, he let his fiery breath consume it. The magical smoke drifted off into the distance, and he prayed for it to travel quickly.
He turned back to the pony he thought of as not just a friend but something very like a mother. She was his family, more so than any dragon he had ever met. Her broken and twisted form was nearly motionless, giving only the occasional twitch as her own blood matted her mane and stained her coat.
“Please hurry, Princess.” He said, wishing with all of his heart that there was something more he could do. “I don't know how long she can last like this.” A tear cut through the blood that was drying on his purple scales. The spires of Canterlot glittered distantly in the open window, tranquil and calm.
Luna
Night Court was in session in Canterlot Castle, although the name was little more than a formality as there was very little that anypony asked of the court at so late an hour. There were a few requests from the Stygians, mostly about keeping Diamond Dogs from mining for crystals in the caves they called home. The bat-winged ponies had served Luna in the past, and many had continued to do so when she had fallen to darkness and become Nightmare Moon. For this reason, they had faced fear and hatred from the other tribes. Their unusual appearance and nocturnal tendencies did little to ease the tension.
The last petitioner had left some three hours before, but still she sat on the cold throne. Only four had visited her, three of them stygians and one an astronomer complaining about light pollution from downtown Canterlot inhibiting his view of the stars. Surely there were more pressing matters that she could assist with, but for some reason the ponies of Equestria were still reluctant to ask. Her guards sat silently at either side of the room, their amber eyes gleaming in the dim light. Their bat-like wings were neatly folded against the enchanted armor that they wore.
All was quiet when, out of the dark night sky, a plume of glittering emerald smoke entered the room. It swirled overhead and solidified, becoming an unsealed and hastily rolled scroll. Scrawled across the visible portion, in large letters, the word EMERGENCY.
Princess Luna levitated the scroll in front of her, eyes widening as she read its message.
“No...” She whispered, the knowledge of what had happened sinking in. “This cannot be.” She left the throne, briskly making her way along the carpeted length of the room.
“Princess,” One of her guards began, but was cut off.
“The two of you are dismissed for the rest of the night. I must go wake my sister.” With that, the door slammed shut behind her.
The guards stared at the heavy obsidian slabs. They had served her since her return, and were used to her strange ways. This seemed somehow different though. Luna was, by modern standards, eccentric. She was prone to over-dramatic reactions and tended to slip back into old protocol when upset. Whatever had been in that letter had scared her, and badly. The two shuddered at the thought of anything terrible enough to fill her with such dread.
Without any reason to remain in the throne room, the pair left. As they walked out of the throne room, a scream filled the halls, reverberating with such power and volume that only one of the two alicorn princesses could have produced it. Fearing the worst, the two rushed to the source of the shout. Celestia's bedroom was in complete disarray, bedclothes scattered at random. In the center of the room they saw the crackling residue of a recently cast teleportation spell. A hastily written note sat on the scorched marble.
One of the guards picked up the note, pulling his helmet off and setting it aside. Without the enchanted armor, his appearance shifted until he was no longer a smoky gray Stygian but a bright blue pegasus with a golden mane. His eyes shifted from the slitted amber orbs customary for a Night Guard to their natural pale blue. Without the enhanced night-vision granted by the helmet's magic he could better distinguish the writing on the page. He cleared his throat and began to read.
“To all of our guards and attendants, we are sorry for the disruption but an urgent matter has come up that demands our attention. Please go about your duties as usual until notified otherwise. Signed, Princesses Luna and Celestia of Equestria.”
Celestia hated hospitals. Even in the waiting room the air stank of sanitizers and medicines. At this hour it was nearly deserted. Other than Spike and the Princesses there was only one other pony waiting, an elderly pegasus mare who had dozed off in her chair.
How anypony could sleep here was beyond Celestia's comprehension. Between the sterile astringent smell in the air and the chairs, which were uncomfortable in ways that seemed somehow physically impossible, sleep was simply out of the question. And that wasn't even taking into account the reason for her presence. She watched the clock as her fear grew, fear for her student and fear of whatever had so viciously attacked her.
The clock, sitting placid on the wall over the reception desk, seemed to be mocking her. The second hoof slowly ticked its way around the perimeter, the sound of its movement deafening in the silence. Worst of all, at least at the moment, was the fact that it was ever so slightly crooked. She knew that she was just picking out insignificant problems with easy solutions in order to distract herself from more urgent matters, but she had to do something to pass the time. It had been nearly an hour already and that incompetent oaf of a doctor still hadn't come back. How long did it take to stabilize a pony in such critical condition anyway?
Gently, delicately, she reached out with her magic. Wrapping a telekinetic sheathe around the clock she nudged it, ever so slightly, to the left. Even lighter, just a hair to the right. Perfect. She sighed, releasing her grip. The clock swung almost imperceptibly to the right. The Solar Princess gritted her teeth, her anger rising. Not only was her student in critical condition, not only was she stuck in this infernal waiting room, but that insufferable clock just had to mock her. Her magic wrapped once more around the clock as she absorbed herself in the effort to straighten the device.
'Perfect' She thought, as she released the clock once more. This time it teetered, wobbling ever so slightly from side to side, before stopping perfectly centered. She sighed. At least one of the things bothering her so had been dealt with, even if it was only the least of her current problems.
As she began contemplating setting a small fire to destroy the hideous pale blue carpeting, the door to the ICU swung open. It tapped lightly against the wall in the process, knocking the clock a fraction of an inch off center. The doctor stepped out, levitating a clipboard before him.
“Princesses, Spike,” He began, donning a small pair of reading glasses, “Twilight Sparkle is currently listed as critical, but stable. Her condition is no longer deteriorating, but is also showing no signs of improvement.” He folded back the first page of the rather bulky stack. “We've done all we can for her injuries, but without the option of magical treatment we are limited.”
“Why, if you do not mind my asking, is magical treatment not an option?” Luna asked, her eyes showing concern despite the controlled calm in her voice.
“We tried magically treating her when she first arrived, a spell to reduce the swelling in her brain.” He wiped his glasses on the white coat he wore. As he replaced them on his muzzle, he continued. “The results were, to put it mildly, anomalous.”
“Anomalous?” Celestia asked, growing angry. “Just what is that supposed to mean?” Her eyes flashed as she loomed over the now thoroughly intimidated doctor.
“What I mean is that she suffered a violent negative reaction to our medical spell. What we call a grand mal seizure. Any further attempts to treat her wounds with magic were put on an indefinite hold.” The doctor turned another page in his notes. “In total, she has broken both her hind legs, had one wing shattered, the other very nearly ripped from its socket. Three broken ribs, one piercing her left lung. Fractured clavicle, minor spinal chord damage, rather severely sprained neck. Lacerations in the abdomen, most relatively shallow, but one that passed dangerously close to several vital organs. Skull fracture, concussion, brain trauma due to magical backlash. And of course, the broken horn.” He scratched his head as he stared at the chart. “Honestly, I've never seen a pony injured this badly and still alive.”
The trio stared at him, unable to believe such grievous harm could have befallen Twilight. What monster, they asked themselves, could possibly do such a thing? Luna gave voice to this question.
“I don't know, to be honest.” The doctor replied. All I can say with any degree of certainty is that the wounds were inflicted through magical means. I've sent for a specialist, but I've no idea when she will arrive.” He sighed. “The trains to and from the Crystal Empire tend to run slow on a good day, and with all of the blizzards they've had lately frozen tracks are a guarantee.”
“And what is to become of her while we wait for this 'specialist' of yours?” Celestia asked.
“We are keeping her in the Intensive Care Unit for monitoring. If she remains stable then she will likely be moved to a private room.” The pale unicorn replied.
“I wanna see her.” Spike said, hopping down off of his chair. The dragon walked toward the door from which the doctor had emerged, only to be cut off. “Hey! What gives?” He demanded.
The doctor frowned, looking down at the young dragon. “I should warn you, she is somewhat unsettling to look at right now. Even with all my years of experience I have a hard time seeing somepony in that condition.”
“I don't care.” Spike pouted. “She's been like a mom to me for all my life, and I wanna see her.” His expression made it clear that he wouldn't take no for an answer. The doctor gave a heavy sigh.
“Right then. Follow me.” He led Spike through the doors and into the Ponyville Hospital ICU. For the most part it was empty, as injuries severe enough to warrant its facilities were rare in such a small town. Spike briefly wondered why the town had such a well supplied hospital, but his concern for Twilight took precedence.
The two turned a corner and walked down a long hallway. Spike found himself missing the hideous blue carpets. Any color at all would be an improvement over the cold and sterile white tiles that covered the floors here. The doctor's hooves clicked on the hard surface with each step, as room after room passed them by. The hallway seemed altogether too long to fit in the building, some trick of perspective or architecture employed by its designers. Finally, the reached a room at the end of the hall. The doors were plastered with signs and warnings. Critical condition. Sensitive equipment. Sterile zone ahead.
The doors hissed as they opened, and as Spike walked through he felt an odd tingling on his scales. The frame emitted an odd bluish light. The doctor must have noticed the confusion on the dragon's face.
“The light is designed to kill off any harmful micro-organisms that may live on your scales.” He said as they passed through. “The patients we have in here often have compromised immune systems, either due to illness or injury.” The doors closed behind them, hissing once more as they sealed shut.
The room was dominated by machinery, each piece flashing or beeping or making some other strange noise, A single bed sat amidst the confusion, and on it lay a pony. Her coat was nearly invisible beneath the layers of bandages and casts, with only a few patches of purple revealed in the gaps between them. A tube ran from one of the machines into her open mouth, clear fluid rushing through it. An IV stand sat beside the bed, slowly dripping yet another fluid into her body. Her eyes were closed, but she didn't seem to be sleeping. The peace associated with sleep was absent from her face, instead there was an odd blankness. She showed no expression whatsoever, simply lying there and breathing as the machines fed her and kept her hydrated.
Spike felt a wave of horrified nausea rising in his throat. He fell back, legs no longer able to support his weight.
“I warned you lad.” the doctor said, helping the young dragon to his feet. “It's never easy seeing a loved one in such poor condition. Would you like to leave?”
The dragon shook his head. His scales had taken on a noticeably green tinge under the purple of his scales, but he made his shaky way over to the bed. He gently brushed a loose lock of Twilight's mane aside with one claw.
“I don't know what happened, or how. I'm sorry I failed you, I'm sorry I couldn't stop whatever did this.” Tears filled his eyes and his voice grew thick with sadness. “No matter how long it takes, no matter what the doctors say, I'm here for you.” The crisp white sheets were darkened by his tears, and his head slumped forward onto the mattress. Sobs shook his body as he finally lost all control.
The doors hissed open again, the Princesses stepping through with all of the grace they could manage. Celestia gasped at the sight of her student, the pony she thought of as very nearly a daughter. She had taught and cared for the young unicorn for years, watched her grow from a rather antisocial little filly into the amazing mare that she'd always known Twilight could be. She silently cursed herself as her carefully maintained facade began to crumble. She was a Princess, she was supposed to be strong for her subjects, but seeing her beloved student in such a situation was more than anypony could have handled.
Luna was not faring much better. She hadn't known Twilight for nearly as long, but the younger pony had been instrumental in helping the Princess of the Night to adapt to this strange new world in which she found herself. Twilight was the first pony other than Celestia that Luna had truly considered a friend. Her chest clenched, a cold knot forming deep in her stomach. Not even Nightmare Moon in the darkest depths of her madness had been so sadistic as to do something like this.
“I'm terribly sorry, your majesties, but we must ask you to leave.” The doctor said. He held out a handkerchief in his magic, which Celestia gratefully took. She briskly wiped the tears from her eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. Slowly, she regained some degree of composure. “We will keep you informed of any developments.”
“For what its worth,” He said as the four left the room, “I'm sorry. I can see how much she means to you.” He folded his glasses and tucked them in the pocket of his coat. “I promise we will do absolutely everything we can.”
The doors shut with a hiss, and Twilight was left alone. Only the myriad machines, with their symphony of sounds, broke the silence of the ICU.
Twilight
“Hello...” Twilight shouted. She thought she shouted it anyway. Without any sound it was difficult to tell. “Is anypony there?” She winced, the act of shouting sending another wave of pain ripping through her body.
The darkness and silence were unbroken, but somehow she had the feeling that she was no longer alone. A presence, sensed in some way she couldn't begin to understand. Around her, the void stretched on to infinity, utterly dark and completely silent but not, she was now certain, empty. What lurked in that endless nothingness? The sensation it gave her was, in some way she tried and failed to define, familiar.
Her attempts to learn anything about this place, if it could truly be called that, were forgotten as the pain rose up yet again. The time it lasted, as usual, was impossible to tell. With no frame of reference time was meaningless here. A second, a year, an eon were indistinguishable. Tears of fear and pain rolled again down her cheeks, and once again she wished for it to end. Once again, no end came, and her cries were lost in the infinite void.
The rest of the night passed painfully slowly. Celestia sat on the balcony outside of her bedchambers, staring up at the night sky. The full moon drifted imperceptibly along, making its ponderous way to the horizon. Between fear for her student and fear of whatever had put her in such a state, there was no way the Solar Princess would be sleeping for a while.
A snide voice rang out from above her. “You know, if all you're going to do is mope around then I might just have to find some other form of entertainment.” Upside-down, lounging on a beach chair somehow suspended from the roof that overhung the balcony, was the bizarre form of Discord. The spirit of chaos grinned at her, yellow eyes peeking over the tops of his oversized sunglasses.
“This is hardly the time for your jokes, Discord.” Celestia said, looking back out at the stars.
“In my experience, Tia,” replied the draconequus, “a bit of levity is always appropriate.” The beach chair was gone, replaced by an overstuffed armchair. Discord wore a patchwork bathrobe and a pair of slippers decorated to resemble the two princesses. He swirled a glass of champagne in one claw. As Celestia watched, he drained the liquid in one swallow before crumpling the glass into a small ball. He tossed the ball into the air, catching it in his mouth when it arced back up to him. After chewing it briefly he blew a large bubble.
“Are you quite finished, Discord?” Asked the princess, glaring with tear-reddened eyes at her old foe. “Or are you going to continue with this insult?” She swatted the bubble of glass away with one hoof. The delicate bauble fell out over the city below, shattering against a rooftop somewhere.
“Fine.” Discord said, dropping out of his chair and landing neatly beside Celestia. “Something is clearly bothering you. Care to tell your old buddy Discord all about it?” The balcony was suddenly furnished like a therapist's office. A couch and armchair sat side by side, with an obviously fake potted plant standing off in a corner. Hovering in midair was a diploma claiming to be from the Discordian University.
Celestia could stand no more. With a burst of magic she obliterated Discord's props and thoroughly singed the no longer smiling spirit of chaos. She rounded on his, the full might of the sun blazing in her eyes.
“You will cease your insufferable antics, Discord!” She roared, the full strength of the Royal Canterlot Voice filling her words. “NOW!” She stomped on gold-clad hoof, sending cracks across the marble surface.
As quickly as it had come upon her, the anger vanished. Celestia's mane and tail drooped, the ethereal currents that normally lifted them gone. She seemed tired, vulnerable, and most of all scared. Discord snapped one claw, cleaning himself and banishing the ashes of his conjurations. This was no time for fun and games, that was clear.
“I'm...” He paused, unsure of how to continue. Being sincere had never been his strong suit. “I'm sorry, Celestia.” He sat beside her, staring up at the stars. He had only seen her anything like this once before, and old memories began to stir. “You used to talk to me, after Luna...left. I don't know if it helped you then, but if it did,” He scratched his chin idly. “then maybe it will now as well.”
“You were made of stone back then.” Celestia replied. “You didn't interrupt nearly as much as you tend to these days.” She sighed. “I just don't know what to do Discord. I've never felt this way before, this powerless.”
Once the words began they didn't stop. Her voice broke as she described the fate that had befallen Twilight, but still she spoke. Everything came out. By the time she was finished she was shaking, sobs wracking her body and tears flowing freely. Discord surprised her twice. First, by remaining silent throughout the outburst. Second, by gently laying an arm across her shoulders.
Celestia was reminded of the months after Luna's banishment, how the hedge maze had become her favorite place to think. For some reason the statue of Discord had possessed a sort of magnetism. The odd-looking creature had been the only one of his kind, alone in the world. While the princess had hated him for what he had done, she had also felt a strange kinship. Both of them, after all, were on their own.
For months after the war ended she had frequented the gardens, sitting by the statue of her enemy and venting all of the emotions she kept bottled up around other ponies. She had never realized, however, that the imprisoned Spirit of Chaos had been able to hear every word.
“Well,” said Discord, rising and stretching out his rather long back. “I hope that helped, Celestia. Now I need to go do something chaotic for a while. These heartwarming moments give me heartburn.” He burped quietly, a pink cloud of smoke rising from his mouth in the shape of a heart.
Celestia stood as well. She wiped her eyes with a wing and managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Discord.” She said, “For a demented spirit of chaos you were a surprisingly good listener.”
“Yeah, sure. Just try not to make a habit of it.” He replied, snapping his fingers and conjuring a door in the middle of the balcony. It slid open with a slight hiss and he stepped through. He glanced back, his expression serious. “I'm here if you need me,Tia.” The door hissed shut and vanished.
Where it had been, there was now a single piece of paper. Written on it in surprisingly neat script, although no two letters were anything alike stylistically, was a single sentence:
Tell anyone about that and I swear I'll turn your coat pink. Not a nice subtle pastel either. I mean the sort of pink you see on toys for little fillies. Best wishes, D.
Spike
Spike's night wasn't going any better than Celestia's. Without Twilight he was lost. He couldn't bring himself to go home, especially not with the library in its current state. Yet he also couldn't face any of his friends. To go to them now would mean telling them what had happened, and there was no way he could bear such terrible news.
Instead, he wandered the deserted streets. The sun still hadn't begun to rise, and the empty town had taken on a sinister, almost haunted, feel. Overhead, the full moon made its way across the dark sky. It hung low over the Western horizon, soon to set and make way for the sun. A cold breeze blew, rattling shutters and shaking trees. Spike jumped at each sound, each movement. Every shadow seemed to conceal some lurking horror, perhaps whatever beast had put Twilight in such condition.
He lost track of how long he'd been walking, lost track of where he was. Every turn was chosen at random, and in the darkness the streets all looked the same. He needed sleep, he needed to get in out of the cold. Most of all he needed a friend, someone who could help him get through this seemingly endless night.
Trudging along, he failed to notice the large shape looming in front of him. His head met metal with a clash and the garbage can toppled. Trash spilled out everywhere and a light flicked on up ahead.
“Who's there?” A familiar voice demanded. “If you raccoons have been rooting in my rubbish again I swear I'm going to have Fluttershy give you such a talking to!” A shape appeared, silhouetted in the open door.
Spike moaned, rubbing his head and standing. Banana peels and coffee grounds clung to his scales, along with other, slightly less identifiable items. He looked up at the building before him. It rose, tall and elegant. Its walls were styled to resemble a carousel, and mannequins were barely visible in the gracefully arched windows.
“Spike?” Rarity asked, recognizing him. “What ever are you doing out at such an uncivilized hour?” Concern was evident in her voice as she trotted over to him. “Is everything all right?”
Spike tried to answer, but the words caught in his throat. He didn't cry, if only because he had no tears left in his body. Finally, after a few deep breaths, he managed to spit out one word. “No...”
Rarity's horn flashed, a spell banishing the dirt and trash from the dragon's scales. He looked up at her, eyes red and sore. Even at this ridiculous hour, wearing a simple robe with her mane a mess and her eyes puffy from the rude awakening, she looked beautiful.
“Come in, Spike. It simply will not do to leave you out here in this cold.” She turned and began walking back to the house. “I'll fix you a nice cup of tea and you can tell me what's wrong.” She paused, looking back. “Are you coming?”
Spike numbly began walking after her. The inside of the Boutique seemed to bright and warm, so inviting. That was not, however, his reason for following. If anypony could help him right now, it was Rarity. He paused on the threshold. Once he entered there was no turning back. He would tell her everything, would be unable not to. He glanced at Rarity, who was already busy setting a kettle on the stove.
He had to. He had to tell someone. Twilight's friends deserved to know what had happened. He stepped inside, the door swinging gently shut behind him. He climbed up on one of the chairs, watching the first plumes of steam rise from the kettle. After a few minutes, it gave a shrill whistle. Rarity deftly added dried tea leaves and a few sticks of cinnamon to a teapot and carefully poured in the boiling water.
As the tea steeped, she sat across from him. Her blue eyes were filled with concern, and he knew that she would be perfectly willing to do whatever it took to help a friend in need.
“What's wrong, Spike?” asked Rarity, levitating a pair of teacups out of a cabinet. “I simply cannot stand seeing my poor little Spikey-Wikey in such obvious distress.”
“Twilight's in the hospital.” He said, staring at the teacup in front of him.
Rarity gasped, her grip on the teapot faltering. As her magic flickered, the pot fell to the table and rocked, hot tea splashing the polished wood. “Whatever for?” She asked, the concern and worry in her voice growing.
Spike told her. He told her everything, from waking up to her scream and finding her in a heap on the floor all the way to seeing her in that hospital bed, medical equipment filling the room with a symphony of noises. Rarity's jaw dropped as he spoke.
“No no no, this simply cannot be.” She whispered. “Not Twilight.” Her tea sat, forgotten, and her eyes were closed. “Do the others know?”
Spike shook his head. Words failed him, and only his constant desire to impress Rarity kept him from breaking down entirely. He looked up at her. Although she was shaken, visibly afraid for her friend, there was also a strong resolve in her eyes.
“Well.” She said, drinking her tea in one swallow. “There's not much we can do about that now, is there? Why don't you get some sleep and we shall go inform them at a more civilized hour.” She lifted the teapot and her cup and placed them gently in the sink. “Are you going to drink your tea before it gets cold?” Spike felt a hot flush on his scales, and gulped down the tea in a hurry.
“Where should I sleep?” Spike asked, following Rarity out of the kitchen. Stairs spiraled up along the wall, and another door led into the showroom.
Rarity simply walked up the stairs, which led into a workshop that dominated the second floor. Spike followed, wondering how she could be so calm.
“Anywhere you can get comfortable is fine.” She said, pausing at a doorway through which more steps could be seen. “Just try to avoid Opalescence's things. She's a tad, shall we say, territorial.” The cat hissed, eyes gleaming out from under the work table.
Spike clambered up on a sofa that sat against one wall. Pushing some fabric out of the way, he made a space for himself. As he curled up on the cushion he felt a wave of complete and utter exhaustion wash over him. Although it had been only a few short hours since his unexpected awakening it felt like days. His sleep was deep and mercifully dreamless.
After bidding the young dragon good night, Rarity climbed the stairs to her room in silence Not bothering with the lights, she closed the door securely and locked it. She made her way to the bed instinctively, stepping over and around the discarded concept sketches and easels. Her composure slipped as she went, and she collapsed on the covers. She cried quietly, face pressed into a pillow to muffle her sobs. This was, without a doubt, the absolute worst possible thing.
In Which Themed Chapter Titles Are Once More Thrown Out the Window
Luna sat on the soft cushion of her bed. Her room was usually kept dark, but this night the curtains were all drawn back. Silver beams of moonlight filled the chamber, pouring in through the ceiling-high windows that dominated each wall.
Soon it would be time to lower the moon, and then Celestia would raise the sun. Just like every other day. The weather was supposed to be beautiful, not that Luna was in any mood to enjoy it. It didn't seem right, seemed an insult somehow, to allow for a bright and sunny day in the wake of this tragedy.
“Why?” Luna asked, looking up at the full moon above. “What did Twilight Sparkle do to deserve this fate?”
The moon, as usual, gave no answer. Cold and impassive, it shone down over Equestria as it always had and always will. There were times when Luna wished that she could be more like the orb she represented, that she envied its detached nature. Times when her emotions got the better of her. Those always ended badly.
Sighing, she turned her attention to the book in front of her. It was one of many that lined those walls not occupied by windows, part of the princess' attempt to learn of all that she had missed in her millennial absence. By and large it was boring, Equestria having enjoyed several centuries of peace interrupted only by minor disputes with the other races with whom they shared this land.
She had, thus far, managed to catch up on significant events of the first five hundred years of her absence. The only true events of note had been the Gryphon Incursion and a quarrel between unicorns mining gems and the native Diamond Dogs. Both had been resolved with minimal violence, although there was still tension between Equestria and the dogs. Their subterranean lifestyle had caused issues with the Stygian ponies, whose mountain caves occasionally proved rich in gems.
Frustrated, she hurled the book aside. It skidded along the floor, pages crumpling and tearing as it went. Why was she burying her nose in some dusty old book when the first pony she truly considered a friend was lying in the hospital? Why wasn't she doing something about it?
The familiar anger rose within her, a burning sensation in her chest. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. The old calming exercise was supposed to repress the kind of urges that had led her to take up the mantle of Nightmare Moon in the first place. As she meditated, she focused on the moon. The cold and comforting presence of the lunar orb resonated within her.
She felt it within her mind, the slow movement of the moon through the night sky. It paused just above the horizon, teetering on the brink of setting. She reached out to it, gave it a gentle nudge with her magic, and sent it on its way to the other hemisphere. Contrary to popular belief, she and Celestia did not in fact move the orbs through the sky. All they truly did was give them the extra momentum needed to continue their cycles, a necessary precaution since the reign of Discord had forever destabilized the two heavenly bodies.
As she pushed the moon over that invisible tipping point, she felt another presence appearing in the East. The sun was beginning to rise, Celestia doing her part in the castle's other tower. As predicted, the day was going to be beautiful.
“Guards,” The princess said, getting the attention of her attendants. “Please send a message to Captain Silver. I require his presence post-haste.” The guards saluted, one rushing off to deliver the message while the other sat, still as a statue. Luna returned to her meditation, focusing to keep the anger from rising in her heart again.
It was only a few minutes before there was a gentle knock on the obsidian slab that served as a door. Luna's magic opened the portal, the door sliding open silently on perfectly balanced hinges.
“You called for me, your majesty?” A voice asked across the threshold. A grizzled unicorn stallion clad in a simple harness, designed to hold only a badge of rank and a sword, stood respectfully toeing the line.
“Come in, Captain.” Luna said, rising from the bed. “I have some matters to discuss with you.”
“It would be my honor, Princess.” He said, stepping in and gently closing the door behind him.
The guards shared a knowing look. Although nopony truly knew what happened in Luna's meetings with Captain Silver, the rumors certainly flew. The fact that he always emerged hours later, sweating and breathing heavily, certainly didn't help.
Inside, Luna and Silver were already getting started. The princess' traditional garb had been cast aside, and her dark blue coat was barely visible in the gloom. The windows, previously open to allow the moonlight to fill the room, were now closed. Nopony was to see what went on in the darkened bedchambers.
They stood at opposite ends of the room, the low pile of cushions that served as a bed pushed aside. Their eyes met, and a crackle of energy seemed to pass between them. This was one of Luna's favorite parts of their sessions: the moment when changing her mind was no longer an option, when all higher thought was banished in exchange for pure instinct.
The moment passed, and it began in earnest. The pair met in the room's center, neither giving so much as an inch. Silver was an soldier, and although his jet black mane was showing the first few streaks of gray he possessed an energy and stamina that stallions half his age couldn't match. His silver coat was marked with the scars of his years of service, each one a badge of honor. Luna possessed the full strength of the moon, and even she had difficulty keeping up with him at times.
The clashing of metal filled the room. Luna's blade, an unadorned length of jet black steel named Penumbra, met the Captain's nameless sword. While mundane in every way, Silver's blade was of exquisite quality. Its shining edge swung through the dark air with deadly speed, only to clash against the dark metal of the princess' own sword. The two held nothing back, swinging and lunging as they would in a true battle.
The upper hoof was traded back and forth, each gaining a brief advantage only to lose it minutes later. They wore no armor, and had cast no spells to blunt the edges of their blades. The only protection that each possessed was their own skill.
Had their been any onlookers, they would have been astonished at how the two mirrored each other. While Silver remained calm and steady, his breath coming slowly and evenly, Luna fought like a mare possessed. She lunged and spun, her blade flashing as she panted and snarled like an animal. It was truly terrifying to behold, a brief glimpse of the madness that had overcome the lunar princess in the past. She swung Penumbra around in a vicious arc, knocking Silver's blade from his telekinetic grip. With her opponent disarmed, Luna went in for the finishing blow. She bowled the soldier over and pinned him down, her blade lightly touching the side of his neck. His amber eyes met her teal ones. It was at that moment that the door swung silently open.
“What is it?”Luna asked, glaring at whomever had so rudely interrupted her. Her glare faded when she saw not a guard, but her sister framed in the light that streamed in. “I mean: Good morning, sister. Is there something you require?” She glanced down at Silver, blushed slightly, and banished the blade. He rose, dusting himself off and taking his leave.
“I am gathering Twilight's friends at the hospital.” Celestia said, eyes following Silver as he made his way past her. “It is time they were told of what has happened.” She turned and began to walk as Luna fell in line behind her. “Afterward I must meet with the guards. There is a small wager that must be settled regarding a certain Captain's 'illicit activities' each night.” She sighed. “I owe Lieutenant Wind Sheer a sizable sum.”
“It seems hardly the time for jokes, sister.” Luna snapped. After the rude interruption it seemed as if all of the tension she had worked out was returning in full force.
“My apologies, Luna. These past few hours have not been easy for either of us.” Celestia looked as tired as Luna felt. Together, the princesses set off for Ponyville, and the meeting that they both had been dreading.
Spike
Spike stood at Rarity's side in the hospital waiting room. The other four sat in front of them, still blinking the last traces of sleep from their eyes and wondering what had brought them here so early in the morning.
“So are we just gonna sit here all morning or are you gonna tell us why you woke us all up?” Rainbow Dash asked, fidgeting in her seat. The impatient pegasus was rarely awake before noon, and between that and being made to sit and wait she was not in a good mood.
“All in good time, Rainbow.” Rarity said. “We are waiting until everypony has arrived.”
“Ooh! Ooh!” Pinkie Pie shouted, bouncing on the rock hard cushion of the chair. “Who are we waiting for now? Is it Snowflake? Cheerilee? Doctor Whooves?” Despite the hour, the pink pony was full of energy. This may have had something to do with the immense cup of extremely strong coffee that she had been drinking while she waited.
“Simmer down Sally.” Applejack interrupted, stuffing a hoof in Pinkie's mouth to silence her. “Ah'm sure we ain't gonna be waitin' too much longer.”
As if one cue, the door opened and Princess Celestia strode in. Luna followed behind her. The two took their places with Spike and Rarity, and the meeting that the young dragon had been dreading began.
“I'm sure you are all wondering why I've asked you here so early in the morning.” Celestia began, looking at the assembled mares. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there has been an incident. Twilight Sparkle has been severely injured, and is currently in a coma.”
The room fell silent. Four mouths dropped open in shock, four mares found themselves unable to formulate even the simplest of thoughts.
“Y'all wanna run that'un by us again, Princess?” asked Applejack, confused. “Cause it sounds like you just said that Twilight is in a coma. And there ain't no way that coulda happened.”
“I assure you, Applejack,” Luna began, stepping forward. “You heard correctly. Early this morning, something attacked her, leaving her in critical condition. The doctors have done all they can, and she is stable, but she has shown no signs of waking.”
Fluttershy shrank behind the pink veil of her mane, eyes wide as she tried to process what she had heard. Pinkie Pie moved beside her and wrapped a foreleg around her friend.
Rainbow Dash took the opposite approach. Anger flared in her eyes as she took to the air.
“So who did it and where are they? They put my friend in the hospital, I'm gonna put them in the ground!” She darted back and forth, punching and kicking at the air.
“We do not yet know the identity of the culprit. And even if we did I would not allow you to chase after them unprepared.” Celestia was calm, but sadness over the condition of her student was clearly visible in her eyes. “Anything capable of such a brutal attack must be approached with caution.”
“Pardon me?” The receptionist said, walking over to the group. “You asked me to inform you when visiting hours began, yes? Your friend is in room number 42.”
“Indeed we did,” replied Rarity. “Thank you ever so much for letting us know.” She turned back to the group. “Well, shall we go and pay Twilight a visit? I must warn you though, it isn't easy to see.”
Resolved, the group began making their way through the halls. Twilight had, in the last few hours, been moved to a larger room in anticipation of the inevitable large number of visitors. She was a well-liked mare, and many ponies considered her a friend. The door looked much like all of the others in the building, a simple windowless slab of wood with a small brass nameplate to the side. Twilight's name was etched on the plate under the room's number. They paused at the door, wanting to be by their friend's side but afraid to see the state she was in. The knob turned, and the door slowly swung open.
The room was white. White tile floors, white plaster walls, white sheets on a white bed, white bandages wrapped around most of Twilight's motionless form. A small table sat by the bed, holding only a lamp and a small vase with a white lily. The white curtains fluttered in a slight breeze from the open window. The feeding tube that had been fed down Twilight's throat had been removed, in its place was one that seemed to be surgically inserted directly into her stomach. IV lines dripped fluids steadily into her bloodstream. A translucent mask over her muzzle fogged as she breathed, connected by a thick hose to a machine in which two bellows worked in tandem. A large metal tank, the word oxygen stenciled on its side alongside several indecipherable labels, sat in its base. The steady sounds of the machinery, beeps and hisses and drips, filled the otherwise quiet air.
“What in tarnation coulda done this?” asked Applejack, breaking the collective silence. “Especially to somepony like Twilight?”
“We do not yet know, Applejack.” Luna replied. “All that is known is that who, or what, ever did this did so with magic.”
Fluttershy stood by the bed, examining Twilight's injuries. Her eyes seemed to grow larger as she took in the sheer number and severity.
“Oh my.” She whispered, her voice scarcely audible. “I've never seen somepony so badly injured...” The shy pegasus was trembling, but she remained at the bedside. “I've seen some hurt animals out in the forest, but nothing even close to this.” Her normally yellow coat showed a bit of a greenish tinge. She swallowed, eyes squeezed shut, and darted out of the room. The sound of her breathing as she struggled to calm herself could be heard through the slightly open door.
“Can you hear me, Fluttershy?” Celestia asked, raising her voice slightly. She waited for an affirmative squeak from the pegasus before continuing. “I've put the finest criminal investigators in Equestria on the case, but as of now there have been no developments. A specialist in magical injuries has been contacted, and is expected to arrive from the Crystal Empire as soon as she can.” Her gaze drifted across the gathered group of ponies. “In the mean time, I would ask that all of you spend time with Twilight if at all possible. The doctors assure me that comatose patients are often at least partly aware of their surroundings, and if that is the case then I want her to know that her friends are here for her. Luna and I will come when we can, and I am sure that she will have other visitors from around town, but the five of you are her dearest friends. Your presence will surely mean a lot to her.”
“Say no more Princess!” Rainbow Dash said, puffing out her chest. “We'll do whatever it takes to help Twilight. I know she'd do the same for us!”
“Eeyup.” Applejack agreed, in an uncanny imitation of her older brother. “Ah reckon it'd be the least Ah could do, after all the things Twilight's done to help me out.” She stepped forward, standing beside Rainbow.
“Oh! It could be like a party!” Pinkie Pie hopped forward, grinning ear to ear. “A 'Help Twilight Get Better So We Can Have A Real Party' Party!” She pulled a number of inflated balloons from her saddlebags, deftly tying them to the frame of the bed.
“Indeed.” Rarity smiled at her friends. “With all of us be her side, Twilight is sure to have a speedy recovery!” She grimaced at the too-white décor of the room. “And perhaps we can, er, spruce this place up just a bit? All of this white is going to give me such a headache, and that lily is entirely inappropriate. Maybe some daisies instead? Anything with a dash of color to it would be a vast improvement.”
“Um, I'll stay with her too,” said Fluttershy, walking back into the room. She faltered as she saw them all looking at her. “Sorry, I had to run out of the room for something completely unrelated to seeing Twilight hurt...” Her words trailed off. The others smiled as she moved to stand with them.
Celestia beamed. “I'm thrilled to see that Twilight has made such wonderful friends. It is times like these, I've learned, that truly show who a pony is. Your decisions to stand by your friend no matter how dark things may seem is exactly what I had hoped for.”
“Am I late to the party, Tia dearest?” Another voice echoed around the room for a moment. One of the balloons that Pinkie Pie had brought rotated, revealing an image in black ink on its surface. The stark black lines revealed a very familiar amalgamation of parts from various creatures. “So sorry, I had some business elsewhere. Terribly dull, won't bore you with the details.”
The balloon popped, showering the room with confetti. Discord stood amidst the scraps of rubber, only a few inches tall. He hopped onto the bed frame, pacing along the narrow metal rail.
“Oh my, this is even worse than I'd feared.” He said, all traces of glee gone from his voice. “I shall miss you, dear Twilight. You were a worthy adversary. My only regret is that I never got to know you, as a friend.” He scratched his chin. “And that I never filled the library with lime gelatin, but that's rather beside the point.”
“Do you mean...” Luna asked, her voice faltering as she processed his words.
“That she's doomed?” Discord asked. “Nah. Just messing with you. She's out cold though.” He rapped gently on the un-bandaged side of her head. “The lights are on, but nopony is home.”
The spirit of chaos vanished in a flash of light. He reappeared, full size, standing between the princesses a moment later. He wore a set of pale green scrubs, with a name-tag on the shirt that read “Dr. Disco”.
“Discord!” Fluttershy scolded, glaring at the draconequus. “I think you should really show some respect.” She paused. “Um, if you don't mind, that is.”
“It is quite alright, Fluttershy,” said Celestia. “While he may have been reformed, we can hardly expect Discord's behavior to change completely. And besides, should you not appreciate your friends for who they are?”
“Ah, Tia.” Discord grinned. “I had no idea I was growing on you so quickly.” He spun, clutching at his chest, and dropped onto his back. A white lily appeared clutched in his claws. The vase, now empty, rattled briefly. “Alas! My poor heart cannot stand your sudden affections! I am slain!”
Celestia kicked him. Her gold-clad hoof struck his long torso, sending a ripple along his length. “There is a line, Discord. Mind that you do not cross it, or you actually will be slain.”
Spike sat by the bedside, his eyes on Twilight and Twilight alone. He still couldn't believe that this could have happened to her. She was the closest he'd ever had to a real family. No, he thought, that wasn't right. She was his family, a mother and an older sister in one. He couldn't help but feel that he should have been able to prevent whatever had done this to her.
“I'm sorry, Twilight.” He said, wiping his eyes with the edge of the sheet. “I'm sorry I was too late to stop this all from happening.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Rarity said, hugging the dragon. “I can't even imagine how hard this must be for you.” She released him, looking him in the eye. “If you'd like, you are more than welcome to stay at the Boutique with Sweetie Belle and I. Although I should warn you, my sister is having some kind of sleepover tonight. You may want to bring some earplugs. And a helmet.”
“And if there's anything at all Ah can do fer ya,” Applejack chimed in, wrapping a hoof around Spike, “don't you ever hesitate to ask Sugarcube.”
“The same goes for me!” Rainbow Dash said, throwing herself into the rapidly growing group hug. “I'm not the Element of Loyalty for nothing after all!”
Fluttershy stepped forward and embraced her friends, “Me too.” She said. “And I think someone else would like to say something as well.” She looked back over her shoulder at a very conspicuous gap between the two princesses. “Discord.” She scolded, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Oh, fine.” The draconequus said, “But I am not going to hug anyone.” He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.
“Oh come on Discord!” Pinkie Pie nearly shouted, wrapping her hooves tightly around the his neck. “You're just being a big old sourpuss.”
“As much as I can appreciate the value of laughter, Pinkie Pie,” He gasped. “I cannot help but value oxygen just a tad more.” He reached up, grasped his head in both hands, and began to twist it. With a faint metallic rasping, it unscrewed. He slipped his neck out of Pinkie's grip and set his head back on the stump. A quick snap of his wrists set it spinning, screwing it back in. He smirked at Pinkie's confused expression and stuck out his tongue. “Top that, sister.”
“As much as I would love to offer the six of you my support and assistance, I am afraid that Luna and I must return to Canterlot.” Celestia said. “Our royal duties, unfortunately, will not wait for Twilight's recovery. I know that you will all be here for her. Knowing that, my mind can be at ease.”
“I, too, am pleased to see that Twilight Sparkle will be in such company during her stay here.” Luna added. She rose and began walking to the door. “Farewell, my friends.”
Twilight
Darkness, Twilight had decided, was extremely boring.
So was pain. But while darkness could be ignored after a while, the pain was a constant presence. It waxed and waned, retreating almost entirely before returning in what seemed like greater force than before. Also unlike darkness, the pain came in several agonizing varieties. Each seemed to be on its own cycle, and the severity varied wildly.
She stared out into the void, or maybe the inside of her eyelids. It was rather difficult to tell which. She had thought, for just an instant or an eternity, that she had felt something...else. That her interminable torment had been broken by something other than pain. A vague, far-off tingle of what may have been warmth. It was not a physical feeling, but rather something mental. Something emotional.
She contemplated the sensation in a broken manner, turning her thoughts to it whenever the pain receded. After some length of time she came to a conclusion. The feeling, whatever it was, was some form of communication. There was absolutely no evidence to back up that decision, something that her scientific mind hated with a passion, but it seemed somehow right. It reminded her of when she had made the mistake of trying to analyze Pinkie Pie. At the thought of her friend, the sensation flared slightly.
The feeling, whatever it was, was achingly familiar. Something vitally important, but she couldn't remember what. The uncertainty gnawed at her thoughts.
She had been focusing, trying her best to remember through a mind clouded by pain, for some time when she became aware of something else. Something that frightened her almost as much as her isolation. She was moving.
There were no landmarks in the void, nothing against which to match her progress. Only a vague sensation of moving, or being moved. As she moved, drifting through the endless darkness and silence, it seemed that the odd but familiar sensation she had been contemplating was fading. That warm tingle on the edge of her perception grew fainter and fainter as the void shifted imperceptibly around her.
The fear and pain surged as the faint suggestion of warmth faded, but they did not come alone. There was something else, a deeper and much more worrying sensation. Vaguely similar to the tingling warmth that she still felt in a far-off way, but vastly different. Diametrically opposed, the polar opposite. It was a cold, she knew although the feeling was far too vague yet for any certainty. A biting chill that, when she truly experienced it, would bite deeper than bone. An icy dagger that would cut into her very soul.
It grew slowly, as the infinite darkness moved slowly around her. She had the odd thought that the faint warmth was acting as some kind of tether, binding her where she was and keeping her from sinking any deeper into the darkness. Although she couldn't move, she focused all of her willpower on that tiny thread of sensation. She clung for all she was worth to it, refusing to let it fade from her mind, not wanting that growing chill to consume her.
As frightened as she had been through the entire ordeal, as alone and hurt and confused, the thought of that cold deep in the void was infinitely worse. She was sure that if she allowed herself to slip into that place there could be no return. Her mind would never survive, nor would her heart. Two sensations, one growing and one fading, one warm and one cold, were all that she had left in this word of isolation and agony.
Now, more than ever, Twilight Sparkle wanted to go home. She tried to remember how she had ended up in this place, but there was nothing. Her memories of the accident were a blur of darkness and madness. Trying to remember scared her almost as much as the void, but she had to. Her only chance of escape was to remember how she had gotten here, what had happened to put her in this state. There was simply no other option.
Pinkie Pie sat by the bed, staring at Twilight as she lay motionless. She laughed and smiled and joked, but all the while was hiding something. Beneath the facade of joy, she was scared. More scared than she'd ever been.
Oh, she had been afraid before. She remembered her first few weeks on the rock farm, how dark it had been at night out in the country, how the stones littering the fields had seemed like sinister sentinels, watching and waiting. She'd actually missed the orphanage those first nights. Her new parents had tried to help, tried to show her that her fears were misplaced, but they just hadn't understood. They were great parents, she would explain to her friends, and she loved them dearly. They were just more than a little lacking in the imagination department.
Her sisters had been a bit better, younger and more flexible in their ways, but they still took after their parents, and had a hard time understanding Pinkie's fears. Perhaps it was growing up on a rock farm. Moving the quartz and feldspar from one field to the next, dragging gray stones across gray fields according to ancient and convoluted customs, it left little to no room for imagination. To this day, Pinkie Pie wasn't even sure what the point of rock farming was. Some claimed that farmed rocks contained more or better gems, others that they were better for building. Some claimed that it was nothing but a centuries old superstition that had no place in the modern world.
It was her adoptive grandmother who showed her the way to beat her fears. Known only as Granny Pie to the entire family, on the rare occasions that they acknowledged her at all, it was hard to believe she was even a part of the family. The elderly mare seemed completely out of place on the farm, a splash of bright color amongst the gray stones and gray skies. She was always ready with a joke or a song to brighten Pinkie's mood.
One night, as the sun set and the shadows grew longer, Pinkie sat by the window. She was tired from a long day of working the field, but as usual sleep was elusive. The night brought darkness, and unlike the orphanage this farm had no nearby city to illuminate the gloom. As she stared into the growing darkness, she heard a floorboard creak behind her. She jumped, spinning in place and sending her long mane whipping through the air. As it settled over her eye again, she saw her grandmother standing there.
“Bit scairt o' the dark, eh?” She asked, patiently waiting as Pinkie deciphered her words. The combination of her thick accent, one that nopony could quite identify and was unique among the family, and her lack of teeth made her a bit difficult to understand at times. She knew this, and occasionally seemed to take advantage of it to say things otherwise unacceptable. “Ah figgered it. You set atta winder mos' ever night.”
“It's just so big and dark.” Pinkie said, scarcely more than a whisper. “And quiet.” Outside, the night was still. The rocks sat in the fields, slowly and silently doing whatever it was they were supposed to do. 'They tell me there's nothing out there, but when it gets dark it's like my brain makes stuff there anyway.” A tear formed at the corner of her eye.
“Naw, naw. Donchu be crine dearie.” Granny Pie said, pulling Pinkie into a tight hug. “Theah ain't nuttin awt theah goan getcha. An' if they was, theah's a secret way to git it gone.” She pulled Pinkie close, whispering the next few words in her ear. “Ya gots ter stand up tall, and loin ta face yer fears. They cain't hoitcha, all ya do's laugh and dem nast thing's'll just disappear.”
The words, between accent and whispering and lack of teeth, were even harder to understand than usual. Pinkie was struck by the sudden idea that Granny Pie was purposefully exaggerating them in order to have some fun.
“I dunno Granny.” Pinkie said, as the words sank in. “When I'm scared it's so hard to laugh. It's like all the happiness is being sucked out of me.”
“Tha's the secret Pinkie.” The old mare grinned. “They's so much happiness inya that ain't nuthin awt theah can take it 'way. Ya just gots ter know how to fahnd it, that tahny lil core o' light an' warmth inya heart.” She tapped Pinkie's chest with one hoof. “An' then jes' let 'er rip!” Granny Pie let loose a howling gale of laughter, strong and hearty despite her withered frame.
Pinkie reached down deep, searching her heart for that spark, that warmth of laughter. A tiny ember of vivid blue light burned there, and she reached for it. It responded, growing in size and brilliance until it filled her. She drew in a deep breath...and sighed. The warmth dissipated, leaving only the cold and the dark.
The next day, as she lugged another rock from one field to the next, she found herself thinking of Granny Pie's words. She looked up at the sky. A thick blanket of clouds filled it, heavy with impending rain. Suddenly, a vast sound filled the air. A colossal booming from somewhere off in the distance. As she watched, a ripple of multicolored light spread across the sky. Clouds were shredded by its passage, and the brilliant ring of light continued to grow. It was the single most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
She wished dearly that that beauty were still with her as she kept watch over Twilight. The hospital room seemed even darker than the nights on the rock farm. Closing her eyes she looked deep down into herself. She tunneled her way down to the very core of her being, her thoughts focused on the spark of laughter in her heart. Finally, she found it. It was small, buried under fear and darkness, but as bright as ever.
Drawing on that light, she laughed. It wasn't as strong or as loud as she would have like, and it didn't last nearly long enough, but it was something. Even such a small laugh helped alleviate the suffocating atmosphere of fear in the room. The others looked at her, varied emotions in their eyes.
“It seems hardly the time for laughter, Pinkie darling.” said Rarity. “Rather disrespectful, no?”
“Well, like Granny Pie always said: You have to giggle at the ghosties!” Pinkie said, smiling. “It isn't doing Twilight any good if we all sit around being mopey, is it?”
“Ah reckon she's got a point there, Rarity.” Applejack drawled. “Ah mean, if alla mah friends were unhappy, an' it was 'cause of me, Ah reckon it'd make me feel just terrible.” She sat, eyes turned toward her comatose friend. “She needs to know we're here for her, but she wouldn't want us mopin' around an' bein' miserable.”
The gathered ponies sat in silence, The only sound the constant mechanical melody of the machines that monitored Twilight's condition. The clock on the wall marked the passing of each second with a deafening tick. Outside the window the ponies of Ponyville went about their daily routines, enjoying the beautiful summer weather.
Applejack walked slowly over to the bed. She sat at its side and bowed her head. One hoof rose to rest gently on the mattress.
“Twilight, Ah don't rightly know if y'all can hear me, but Ah don't reckon Ah care right now.” Her voice was calm and even, her eyes closed. “Yer friends're all here for ya, an' ain't nothin' gonna change that.”
Twilight
The warmth grew faintly stronger, and Twilight smiled. She wasn't sure why, had no idea what could have made her smile in this place. Looking around, she certainly didn't see anything worth smiling about. Of course, she still didn't see anything at all.
She allowed the feeling to wash over her. Small though it was, it provided immeasurable relief from the otherwise absolute pain and loneliness.
That tiny tendril of warmth, the only positive feeling this endless void had to offer, was already flickering and fading again. She tried in vain to find its source, but saw only more darkness. Sighing, she turned her attention forward, or rather toward what she assumed was forward. The general direction in which she was slowly moving, pulled along by the terrible grip of that unspeakable cold.
The darkness was now broken, and she had decided that it was definitely a bad thing. In the distance, perhaps inches away and perhaps an infinity of miles, was a tiny glimmer of light. Its vivid purple color reminded her of her own magic, but somehow different. Tainted.
The light terrified her even more than the darkness had. It seemed to radiate cold and fear, wrapping them around her in an ever-growing web of icy tendrils and drawing her deeper into this infinite darkness.
Worse, far worse, than the way it pulled at her was the way it affected her thoughts. The longer she spent here the more she almost wanted to give in. Wanted to give up her grip on that delicate lingering warmth and let the cold swallow her, consume her and obliterate her.
It whispered, not in her ears but in her mind, that if she were to just surrender, just give in to the darkness and stop fighting it then all of her fear and pain would end. Its voice, so familiar but continuing to evade recognition, was a constant presence in her pain-addled mind.
Trembling, she tightened her mental grip on the warm feeling and steeled herself against the cold and the dark.
“My friends will save me.” She whispered, fighting the dark presence's words with her own. “They won't let me down.” The names of her friends became a mantra as she passed through the timeless void. “Applejack. Fluttershy. Rarity. Pinkie Pie. Rainbow Dash. I know you'll come for me...”
Luna
Princess Luna returned with her sister to the castle, silently cursing herself for her lies. While it was Celestia who had told them that they both had work to take care of in Canterlot, Luna still felt guilty of a lie by omission.
In truth, her 'royal duties' were extremely limited. Few ponies bothered attending her night court, and during the day she usually either slept or worked on learning the history she'd missed. She did, however, have something she wanted to do.
Settling herself amidst the cushions of her bed, she closed her eyes and drew on her magic. The cool silvery glow, so much like the moon's own light, gently illuminated the room. The spell took shape, a familiar one of her own invention that allowed her to wander the metaphysical plane in which dreams were born. The Well of Dreams united all sentient beings, and the spell allowed Luna to walk in that realm, to see and even visit the dreams of those who slept.
When the spell was completed, she allowed herself to sleep. Her room vanished, and the Well of Dreams appeared around her. It was a barren and empty realm, dusty gray ground and black skies. It was, she mused, not unlike the surface of the moon. Unsurprising given that she had developed the spell over the course of her thousand-year banishment for a much more insidious purpose.
The main difference between this realm and the moon was that, unlike the cold and dusty lunar orb, the Well of Dreams was littered with countless floating spheres of light. Each one was the intersection of a sleeping being's mind and the Well, and each was a gateway into the subconscious of that being.
This part of the well was not one that she enjoyed visiting. Here the shadows were deeper, the air colder, the dreams darker. This was the plane of nightmares and delusions, of illness and fear. These dreams were filled with negative emotions, riddled with mental toxins. She allowed herself to wander, focusing her thoughts on Twilight and letting her spell take over. Independent of her control, her body picked its way through the orbs. She trembled as stray tendrils of fear and hatred brushed against her, brushing them off as one would a spiderweb. Finally, she stopped. Her destination drifted before her.
Twilight's dream was one of the worst she had ever seen. The orb was pitch black, exuding a nearly palpable miasma of shadows. Negative emotions seethed and boiled within, amplified by pain and isolation. Nearly sick at the thought of entering such a realm, Luna touched the tip of her horn delicately against the orb.
The pain was immediate and exquisite. A cold spike of unbearable agony that ran through every nerve at once. She cried out and fell back, a cloud of dust rising around her. Her breath came in quick pants, and her coat was slick with sweat. The orb hung, unchanged, in the air before her. She had encountered resistance to her entry before, but never so violently. This dream would not allow her presence. Her horn flared once more as she terminated the spell. The Well of Dreams vanished.
She awoke in her bed, immediately aware that she was being watched. Two gleaming amber eyes stared at her, meeting her gaze without blinking. Captain Silver stepped out of the shadows, bowing slightly before her.
“My apologies, Princess.” He said as he rose. “I heard you cry out, and thought there might be a problem.”
“It is nothing, Captain.” Luna replied, still shaken from her experience in the dreamscape. “Just a bad dream.” One that I fear has only just begun. She thought, as the captain made his exit. She fell back into the pillows, exhausted but unwilling to allow herself to sleep. Eventually she lost her battle, and fell into a sleep mercifully without dreams.