Blind Eye

He brushes the tears away, not even bothering to stop the wracked little sobs escaping from his mouth. Sometimes, he wonders why he keeps crying, if it only brings him more pain. He doesn't like to feel weak, when his parents can hold their heads so high. But then he remembers that his parents do not care for him, in the same way that they care for their reputation,  and so he keeps letting his eyes water.

He comes to the lake on the nights he does cry, though. It soothes him, the way the night is reflected silver upon the water's surface. He stares into the deep pool himself, occasionally, just to see his pale reflection looking back at him. He smiles, watching as the lake does the same. It makes him feel safe, less alone.

It is not long after that when he's throwing pebbles, seeing how far he can chuck them and listening to the fulfilling thunk as each of them hit the water. It compliments the sounds of nature well, a rhythm to go along with the crow's distant call. It reminds him that the world is as lonely as he, and how there is a particular beauty in it.

This is one such night.

He takes special care to find the smoothest pebbles, gritting them loosely between his teeth and flinging them. He makes sure to splash in all the dirtiest puddles, and get the right amount of twigs stuck in his mane. It makes him feel normal, instead of the noble colt he is usually portrayed as. He usually dreams pleasantly these nights, visions of a loving family and regular childlike wonders. He does not see his pain.

As the starlight lingered on, and the last stone skidded over the lake, he silently thanked the Moon Princess for her calming stars and hypnotic silence of the world. As the darkness of sleep threatened his vision, the young foal yawned, as he turned his head to face the house in the distance. He supposed that tonight was one of the times where he would sleep by the lake's side. The guards and servants stationed at various parts in the mansion knew him well enough, figuring that his serene privacy meant the world to him. They knew where to find him, he would be in bed by morning tomorrow.

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As the child lay asleep in nature's grasp, the shadows watched him from a distance, waiting for movement in the pony's deadly quiet slumber. When the foal turned over in a restless dream, they relaxed. As they moved, swiftly and up out of the water dripping slightly, they looked down upon him with curious pity.

The dark creature bent forward, cocking its head slightly to the side. There it sat, waiting again for the steady rise and fall of the other's chest. It too breathed slowly, in and out, mimicking the foal's movement like the lake reflecting a smile. It was loud, the breathing of the unholy shadow, much in contrast to the softer breathing beside it. It was unnerving to most, the silence before the blow with a not-quite-right wind howling in an unknown room. But this, it ignores.

With care, the creature unhinged its jaws, mouth full of razor-sharp teeth stained with blood and seaweed, and picked the pony up, setting it on its back that wasn't quite a back. Quietly watching for any change in the foal's behavior, It stayed motionless.  In return, the young one only turned, adapting to its new bed. Again, the shadows watched for the breathing.

It then begins to trot and slither away in the shadows of the trees, towards the light of the distant home. It listens for the slumber of the child, and is cautious to not drop it or let it wake. As it arrives to the wall, it looks back to the foal. Ever so careful. It picks him up again, jaws open ever so slightly, and and  cradles him in It's claw. He snores quietly, and still sleeps.

It grips the wall with tendrils that slide along the surface. Slowly, It climbs. Up to the fourth window up, the second one to the right. It fiddles with the lock, opening it so that it sits open slightly ajar, and takes the child into the room. It takes only a brief second, familiarizing Itself with the bedroom It has taken the pony to countless times before, and learning of the new toys and books scattered around.

The long arms extended from Its back pull away the sheets from the bed, and It gently lays the foal into the soft mattress, again pulling the covers back over the shivering little pony. It waits, tucking the child in, making sure that he is asleep. It steps back, into the shadows from where It came, and watches. The steady breathing of the pony that It mimics resumes normally, and it relaxes the creature.

The wind blew quietly through the window, and It caught the barest hint of it whistling over the roof. It looks at the candle, glowing dimly in the darkness of the bedroom. It's eyes flicker to it, grimacing, and then to the glinting object reflecting the soft light.

It then remembers the stone. On the foal's bedside, lays the Quartz gem, tossed across the lake and then plummeted to the bottom in a fit of the young one's rage. It had taken the pebble in a clump of dirt, bringing it with the child for the nightly routine, and It was suprised to see that the child had kept it. Once more, it rubs the stone in It's hoof and claw, and sets in on the bedside table. It pauses, in thought, and agrees to Itself.  It then melts away into the darkness, watching.

It gives the equivalent of a smile, for a monster, and looks at the sleeper. It keeps the bad dreams away.

In the morning, he would wake, and It would be waiting.