Where am I? Willow wondered. Her thoughts were not spelled out, she still could not properly speak in the language of the Equestrians, but the essence of her question rang true through the blackness of her mind. The only response was its loss in the void of black confusion that surrounded her. Everything was black, nothing existed apart from her own thoughts, or so she believed.
A low oppressive rumble rolled through the void, bringing with it an acute sense of worry to Willow’s mind. She could not see what was present, but it was there, she could feel it. It was frightening, but she could not escape. She tried to move, but her mind was frozen in fear. Even if she had tried to run the oppression would have been able to follow. Slowly, the thing, whatever it was, filled the space around her. It filled every possible escape from every possible angle. Up, down, left, right, forwards in time, and backwards in time, it was there. There was no escaping it. She began to cry, her mind at a complete loss of what to do other than surrender to the force that overpowered her mind. The tendrils of the oppression slowly snuck into her mind, fingering the few memories that she had of her life. The only things it could not touch were the memories of her mother and father.
She tried to scramble back, away from the presence, but it was too strong. She could not move. Try as she might, it was all that she could do to keep her head off the ground. Had she been in the realm of the physical, tears would have been streaming down her face. She tried to curl into a ball, driven by a childish hope that if she could not see the monster, that it could not see her, but she was denied even that most simple form of security. She was forced to stare into the face of her assailant. No matter where she looked, the oppression was too. It seemed to seep into her mind, pulling the very energy from her mind. Sleep began to become her best friend, tempting her into a slumber from which she would never wake up.
With monumental effort, Willow laid her head down, allowing her mind’s eye to drift closed. As she began to drift away, a small noise permeated the oppressive shadows.
“Willow,” it said. “Stand up Willow. Stand up and fight.”
Tired…
“Willow, you need to get up. You have to fight it.”
So tired. I can’t.
“You have to try.”
Not only was her body unwilling to comply, her mind was unable to as well. Resisting the oppression was the last thing she wanted to do, and in fact, her body flat out refused. Sleep seemed so soft, so comforting. She could just close her eyes and she would be removed from this nightmare. She would be safe.
I want mommy. She will hold me. She will make the bad thing go away.
“If you fall asleep, she won’t hold you ever again.”
Mommy…
“No!” the voice shouted, startling Willow from her semi wakefulness. “You must fight! Think of your mother! Think of her hugs! Tell me, what are they like?”
They are warm and soft. They make me feel safe. Mommy’s hugs make everything feel better.
At the thought of her mother’s care, the oppression faltered. Not by much, but enough to be felt.
“Good!” the voice said. “Now, keep on thinking of your mother. How else does she make you feel better?!”
She makes me feel safe.
The oppression faltered again, this time more noticeably. The barrier that had seemed impenetrable just moments ago was beginning to show its cracks.
She makes me happy.
The shadows began to retreat out of her mind, slowly but surely.
“Yes, my child this is very good. Now, tell me who else makes you feel safe? Who else makes you feel cared for?”
My daddy.
The shadows were now visibly retreating, the blackness was slowly turning less black.
He’s always happy. He plays with me and makes me laugh even when he’s tired.
Small cracks appeared in the shadows creating shafts of light that streamed down into the darkness, piercing it like a knife.
They love me.
The entire shadow immediately shattered, obliterating the oppression that had engulfed her mind. The light was blindingly bright at first, but as her eyes adjusted, she realized that the faces of two ponies, one mare and one stallion, were looking at her.
“Willow?” the mare asked with tears in her eyes.
“Mommy?” Willow whispered as her vision slowly returned. “I love you mommy.”
“Somepony was talking to you?” her mother asked.
“Somepony talked to me. She helped me fight the bad.”
“You need your rest,” her father said as he kissed her forehead. “You had a bad fall, but you are okay now.”
“Hold on a minute,” her mother said. “Who talked to you?”
“Somepony told me to fight. They told me to think about you. Then I thought about you alot and then I woke up,” Willow said with a big yawn.
“That’s amazing,” her father said, bewildered by the child’s recollection of her coma. “What did it tell you?” The question fell on deaf ears, Willow had fallen asleep. The battle had pulled so much energy from her small body that all she could do was close her eyes and dream. Her father smiled. “Sweet dreams, Willow. I love you.”
Luna opened her eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Dreamwalking in comas is never easy,” she said as she leaned on her sister’s side. “But Willow got through it. She woke up.”
“Luna,” Celestia said as she pulled her sister close with her wing. “Your love is so much more than you could ever know.”
“I can not let them lose to the oppression. I just can’t. No pony deserves such a fate.”
“Willow will never even know that you saved her,” Celestia said. “You do this so much, and no pony ever thanks you.”
“Its not about acknowledgement or praise, its about helping ponies fight the oppression. Besides, I don’t save them, love saves them. I merely remind them of it.”
