The First Dark War

Nightmares. They're like the evil that lingers in the back of your mind, waiting for your guard to be let down. Into your dreams they float, corrupting you ever so slowly. That was the case for Red.

It was the same as every other night. The brick colored unicorn had always found himself in some kind of old hallway in what appeared to be a castle, or atleast some structure of royalty. In fact, the kind of structure he saw in these nightmares shouldn't even be occurring to him. He'd never been in such a place; why it was in his dreams was beyond him. Perhaps it was a sort of phychic glimpse into the future. Whatever it was, it was insatiably recurring, not letting a single good image cross his mind. Yet another thing he had no control of.

Red galloped hard away from the familiar approaching black substance that chased him through the old, worn corridor. This approaching wave could only be described as blood. A blackened, tainted blood that pointed to demons and devils alike. Monsters with ravenous hungers of impossible extremes. It moved toward him quickly and widespread as if poured from a tipped-over bucket, or even like a wave hitting land, but never stopping it's course.

Though he grew tired, Red never stopped going. He wanted away from that which stalked his thoughts, destroying peace. His only guide were the many torches placed a few yards from each other up above him; the only illumination. As darkness chased him, it surrounded him as well, giving him all the more reason to push onward.

A hefty, reverberating, metal laugh finally escaped the depths of the unknown, shaking the entirety of the passage and throwing the unicorn off-balance and slowing his pace. He was nearing the end. It always ended the same way, it seemed. No matter how long he kept it up, the inevitability caught up to him. If ever there was a better way to end his struggle, he would've found it by now. A pity it didn't exist.

A trip, and Red was on his stomach, leaving him to twist onto his back and gaze on death. The blood had reached him and it was antagonizing how hot it was, frightening how thick it was. Unable to get back up, the young stallion grunted and strained against his captivating fate. More came until he was up to his muzzle in the substance and breathing heavily in fear of the loss of breath, life, and hope. More, more, more, more. No breathing, no air. Nothing.

"I can't breathe!"

"Done daydreaming, Red? That's the third time today." Explained Tomesten, the teacher of Red's spell writing class.

The unicorn, surprised at his surroundings at first, immediately sobered at the voice of his dreadfully boring instructor. Red hated magic school; too many ponies, too much noise, too many jerks. He gave a glare to the mocha-colored earth pony at the head of the room before looking back at his blank note page.

"I believe that calls for punishment. How will you ever be a successful unicorn if you never study or try in class? Detention. You can spend an hour here catching up on your notes."

"What!?" Red exclaimed in anger.

"Don't act so surprised, Red. You should look to Twilight for guidance. She seems like the only student here that wants to learn." Tomesten replied with a smirk.

Twilight Sparkle. Whenever he wasn't having nightmares, he was thinking about her. She was different for sure, she had greatness written all over her, and only he and maybe Tomesten could see it.

Twilight immediately got up from her seat in protest. "Mr. Tomesten, I'm afraid you have Red all b-backwards," the purple unicorn stuttered, "you see, h-he's actually really smart, you just-"

"Just what? Twilight, you aren't seriously sticking up for him are you? Let him have his punishment. He can't be babied." Tomesten's patience was already wearing thin. He disliked interruptions. Interruptions meant less learning. "Please sit down, Twilight."

Instead, the geeky, deep violet-eyed mare kept her place. "I won't."

"Twilight, what're you doing?" Red asked nervously, afraid of the attention he was so wholesomely getting. "You're going to get yourself kicked out!"

"I don't care! I can't just sit here and listen to you always getting picked on! It's just...just..." She silently looked down to her hooves and back to Tomesten, who was practically boiling out of his own fur.