The Tyranny of Discord

3Beyond the Pale

Quickly, get them up.” Renault's icy eyes gleamed in the light of sun and fire as he looked them over. Mourning Star sat upon the ash-covered hill, watching everything she knew and loved burn away as the shrouded ponies descended upon them like phantoms. She supposed there would be pain then, and she moved closer to the others as they huddled in the dirt, fear and fire mingling in their eyes. But instead the dark ones gathered around the frightened young ponies, lifting them not ungently to their hooves, stumbling and shaking. “Bind the pegasus' wings,” Renault addressed a unicorn the color of fallen pine needles, and she rushed to obey. He looked at Solace and Sojourn. The aquamarine unicorn was sobbing softly into her brother's mane, but looked up when she felt the scarred pegasus' gaze upon her. Tears glistened in her coat as she gasped for breath. Sojourn held his sister close, his face impassive as ever, silent and still as he faced the figure clad in black steel.

“You and your pegasus friend have already killed one of mine this day,” Renault said to the mute pony. “Believe me when I say it would be in your interest to restrain your magic from this point on.” He regarded the two ponies, one set of sandstone eyes filled with fear, the other with defiance. “And that goes for your sister, as well, lest something... regrettable should happen to either sibling. I doubt she need be reminded what foolish bravery will win her.” At that the dusky pony bowed his head, the brazen light fading from his eyes. He nuzzled his sister reassuringly, licking her wounds as she shook beside him.

Renault draped the hooded cloak of velvet over his helm once more, and glanced at Mourning Star, still staring listlessly at the smoke rising from the blackened timber. “There will be time for mourning and hatred later, young pony,” he said to her, raising his eyes to the sun above. “But that time must wait. We have a long road ahead of us.” And with that he turned away. He did not even bid one of his followers restrain her. For I am just an earth pony, she thought. What could I possibly hope to do?

He called to two of his pegasi. One, a beige female, had long, elegant wings and a mane the color of polished sand. She trotted over briskly and stood looking warily at the captives as her companion, a lithe, periwinkle male with quick, dark eyes and short, unkempt mane joined her. Renault spoke to them hurriedly. “Haste is of the essence, now, as I'm sure you're both aware. Tantamount to that is our need for secrecy.” He looked to the sky once again, a twinge of apprehension visible on his face even beneath the heavy armor. “The clouds have deserted us, and we cannot wait for nightfall. Sweep east and west, and make sure our sky stays clear of any unwanted visitors.” He paused, and as he turned to his pegasi once again, Mourning Star thought she saw the briefest flash of emotion across his features, something close to concern... or contrition. “If you should happen across any High Command pegasi... do what needs to be done. They must not be allowed to tell of us, understood?” The two pegasi nodded solemnly. “If all goes as planned, well... you know where to find us.” He saluted them, and they straightened, returning the gesture proudly. With nary a word, the two embraced each other, and then they were gone, soaring off in either direction on powerful, feathered wings. Renault watched them until they were out of sight.

He doesn't expect them to return, Mourning Star realized. Good. Let them die. Let them all die...

“Sir.” The pine-needle unicorn stirred from beside Dawn Chaser, who looked at her scathingly, his magnificent wings pinioned and helpless. “What of the fire mare, and the rebellion within the city?”

“We have disturbed the hornet's nest, I fear.” Renault gazed out over the town, staring down on it from atop the smoking hill. “Zhevalla.” He gritted his teeth. “Damn her, I did not want enmity between us. We were fortunate that her Coalition had others than ourselves to contend with, or else...” He closed his eyes and put the city to his back. “There are none who have not lost today,” he said finally. Mourning Star wondered if the sentiment was directed at herself. “Equestria will bleed now that Zhevalla has declared herself so openly. We will be the least of their worries once High Command comes for them. Still, I would be well away from this place, and soon.” He turned his hard blue eyes to the pegasi and unicorns before him. All were rapt with attention, their black armor waxen in the sunlight, their dark cloaks and leathers billowing in the cool breeze. “I only pray we have time enough to accomplish what we must. War has begun this day, brothers and sisters. We can run for a time, but sooner or later, we shall all be swept up in it.  We will fight, when it finds us,” he said, turning toward the heather and the horizon, his red mane catching the wind and flowing behind him. “But first, we run. We leave. Now.”

The day had dawned in full, the sun marching diligently across the sky as the dark coterie and their small band of captives made their departure, turning from the city in turmoil below and the pillar of smoke upon the hill rising ever higher and striking out into the flowered veldt. The fields were awash with color: lavender, amethyst, magenta, violet, and a hundred hues in between. The low, rolling heather stretched for miles, surrounding the city on all sides, amaranthine in shade and expanse. Swells and ripples materialized and vanished as the breeze shifted and played across it, like the surface of a great ocean of efflorescent blossoms. Adrift in a sea of beauty, Mourning Star thought. But this time, there is no safe harbor that awaits us at journey's end. She used to find such comfort and contentment in the endless moorland that lay just beyond her doorstep; for almost her entire life, she had been within view of its humble elegance. But the bright and vibrant pigments that once dazzled her so seemed to wane, tarnish, and deliquesce, fading to a grey like that of her somber coat. Now, it may as well have turned to smoke and ash along with the rest of her memories, for all the happiness it brought her.

It wasn't long before it became apparent that Solace's wounds were exacting a heavy toll on the young unicorn. Though most were superficial and none of them life threatening, the pain, compounded by blood loss and a short time beneath the heat of the sun, caused her to finally collapse after managing to hobble just a few miles. Renault's pegasi and unicorns tended to her as best they could, wrapping some of the more serious injuries in swaths of clean black linen. When it was clear she could not carry on of her own accord, a few even offered to carry her, but Dawn Chaser would have none of it. He insisted he would carry her himself, and when one of the unicorns suggested he needed to keep up his own strength, the sunset pegasus silenced him with a look that brokered no argument.

“Sorry to be sucha burden, Dawn,” she said faintly as they secured her as safely as they could to the pegasus' back. “And you with your wings all roped up.” She attempted a feeble smile and a small laugh, which turned into a bout of heavy coughing.

“Easy.” Dawn Chaser tugged at the end of a hempen lash with his mouth, making sure it was nice and snug. “You just rest, now. When you wake up, this will all seem like a bad dream.”

The lie seemed to put her at ease, until... “Dream... oh, Dawn, tell her I'm sorry. Tell Star... I'm so sorry I failed her... I'm... so...” Her voice trailed away. Silent tears rolled down into her coat, eyes clenched tight from exhaustion, and she slept.

“Yes... Star.” The pegasus looked to his earth pony friend, trailing behind near the end of the column. He had tried to console her, and to offer what succor he could... but it was far from enough. Mourning Star simply gazed at him blankly, the eyes that were once bright and happily recondite now dismal, subdued, and filled with unimaginable anguish.

As it turned out, the cinereous pony found herself tormented by more than loss. Her head throbbed and ached, and with every step she took she felt it more acutely. By the time they stopped for the night, lying beneath the dark, open sky with the city long submerged in the sea of grasses and flowers behind them, she was nearly delirious with pain. When she finally succumbed to sleep, the pain relapsed into the dreams that had become a part of her, their twisted visions exposing her to the face of the stars in all their cold, distant glory, and to the infinity beyond.

And she had no choice but to watch, and listen.

She woke to fire all around her, but it was only that of the sun, burning the heath that encompassed them as it climbed into the world and gave birth to light once more.

That day and the next passed much as the first. The moorlands began to gradually give way to a world of grasses; short and tall and of every color imaginable, the convolutions racing north and east until the end of sight. The townsponies were wide-eyed, never having dreamed of a land so vast and open beyond their small city and gently rolling hills. Solace, having recovered enough from her injury to walk again, strayed a few tentative steps into the swaying, multicolored folds. She laughed as they licked and brushed against her coat, and for a moment the ponies forgot their strife as they watched her play. Even Sojourn smiled to see his sister's happiness.

“We call it the Shifting Sea,” a russet-colored pegasus told them. “From the sky, the colors drift and blend and the surface ripples ceaselessly, like an ocean that is never still.”

Mourning Star looked to Dawn Chaser and saw him gazing at the open sky with longing. She knew how much he must yearn to stretch his wings, to soar above and look down upon a never-ending halcyon expanse. She envied him then, she realized. The revelation saddened her, and suddenly the moment of happy forgetfulness was gone. And then the pain washed over her again, swift and strong, and she gasped, her head and mind aching as the images and feelings overtook her.

The frozen rime of Renault's blue eyes found her, and once again they reflected a solicitude that was deep and suggestive. Mourning Star had felt the growing unease in his gaze as their journey continued and she had become increasingly affected by her painful visions. The disquiet that filled his eyes now unnerved her. Was it anger she saw there? Distaste? Hatred?

...Fear?

She had never known a more dispassionate pony to be so uncertain. Even through the restless spasms, the thought gave her pause.

The scarred pegasus' stare lingered on her but a moment, no longer. “We are near,” he said. “Quickly, now, and we may yet make it before nightfall. Stay close, and do not wander. A pony is easily lost within the Sea.”

Perhaps that would be best, Mourning Star contemplated as she watched Renault disappear into the endless steppes. To be lost. Somewhere they could never find me. But instead she found herself following Solace and Sojourn and Dawn Chaser as the veiled pegasi and unicorns shepherded them forward. And one by one, the grass swallowed them up.

It rained then, big, baleful drops that descended from the ominous clouds that had quietly stolen over the sky. A wind picked up, fierce and biting; short and tall alike, the grasses knelt before it, as the onslaught drove the downpour this way and that. The deluge lashed against the ponies, and soon every piece of armor glistened and every coat was sodden and weighted. The unicorn siblings huddled close together, the rain beading and sparkling at the tips of their horns. Solace's mane fell wet and heavy into her eyes, the once luxurious and silken tresses now drenched and nondescript. Every few steps she stopped to miserably paw it out of her face with a hoof. Mourning Star shared her dismay. The earth pony's coat had turned the color of slate. She blinked the water from her eyes, and it traced down the white mark upon her cheek as it ran. She pressed herself next to Dawn Chaser, taking comfort in the pegasus' heat and presence. He touched his head to hers to soothe her, and she watched with sympathy as he struggled to dislodge the water that collected in the feathers of his bound wings. Her head ached more with every moment, and as the day progressed toward night it was all she could do to keep pace with the others. But keep up she did, somehow or another, and all the while the rain tore at them, the wind howled, and the silent shrouded ponies kept their water-laden vigil.

Somewhere in the midst of her pain, as the grey sky blackened overhead and night descended, Mourning Star looked up and beheld a large object in the distance, blurred and indefinite beneath the haze of rain. As they drew closer, she squinted, straining to see through the murky drizzle, and gradually the silhouette of an immense building rose out of the gloom. She gasped in awe, her hurts momentarily forgotten.

The parish was ancient. When it had fallen into disrepair and disuse, the young earth pony could only guess, but decrepitude had not diminished its elegance; a sad, shattered beauty still remained to it. Its thick stone slabs rested one upon another, pockmarked and crumbling from age and the elements. A grey-green film of moss and lichen flowed from every crack and crag, as nature slowly sought to reclaim that which was its right. Vines laced up every pillar and crept in and out of the scattered windows, their panes long since broken and lost. Two towers had once poised rising toward the heavens, one facing westward and one eastward; Mourning Star could still make out the faint outline of a moon etched into the western spire. The eastern had long ago collapsed, large fragments crashing through the rafters to come to rest in what remained of the atrium.

A pair of colossal effigies stood upon the threshold at the top of the worn, rugged steps, proud heraldry wrought in marble and bronze. Their corrugated wings were raised in splendor, their spiraling, ivory horns pointing to the sky above. The bronze had surrendered to patination, but it in no way lessened their grandeur. As the ponies ascended the steps, Mourning Star felt as though the eyes of the statues were following her, judging her. She wondered if there had truly been a time when these resplendent figures had walked among them. She had never felt as insignificant as she did then, with the adamant gaze of the Astrals upon her. At least we shall soon be out of the rain, she thought.

Renault sent two of his pegasi to scout the interior as the others settled down to wait in the overgrown courtyard. Solace and Sojourn collapsed in a corner, exhausted. A section of the roof still remained, and brother and sister nestled close, grateful for each others warmth and to be shielded from the rain. Mourning Star curled up beside the derelict fountain that stood in the center of the terrace. The wellspring had been dry for countless years; the only water it now held was that the sky saw fit to lend. Her head throbbed quietly. She stared into the basin, her reflection refracted and distorted by the hundreds of tiny ripples caused by the gently falling rain.

“Star?” She had not heard him approach. The grey pony looked up and there he was, her best friend, the pegasus who had once been her own reservoir of strength and courage, in a time that seemed so long ago. His sturdy wings were still restrained, the feathers hopelessly bedraggled. He looked gaunt and enervated, the brilliant colors of his coat and mane warped by wet and weariness. But his face was the same as she remembered it, the same as it always was. It was lit by the same brightness, the same kindness; it held the same obstinate, damnable optimism and determination that she found at once so intractable and endearing. Looking up at him then, she felt the tears threaten for the first time. She turned angrily away, shaking. Dawn Chaser said not a word, but stood by her and lightly nuzzled her dark, tangled mane.

“I failed them, Dawn,” she whispered after a time. “They looked to me to care for them, to protect them... and I failed.”

“There wasn't anything you could have done.”

She clenched her teeth. “I know that. How could I ever forget?” Mourning Star gazed up at the twin guardians of stone, standing tall and majestic. It seemed to her that age and natural wear had only served to heighten their eminence. “If I had wings to fly, if I had magic to protect the ones I love, if I had all the power of the sun and the moon at my hooves...” She smiled sadly. The rain was cold against her cheek; her tears, warm. “But that is not the way of the world. And I am just an earth pony, and my lot is weakness and contempt.” The water babbled softly as it fell into the fountainhead, murmuring its assent. “Even Sola, and Sojourn, too.” She glanced to where the siblings lay huddled together. Sojourn was gingerly undoing the wrappings from his sister's wounds, cleaning them as he went. Solace's eyes were closed, resting as her brother worked. “I've looked after them almost their entire lives, since they were young foals, and you and I not much older. I gave them everything I could... and any one of these ponies could snatch all that away in an instant. And I could only watch, as I did before.” She laughed bitterly. “But what good does it do to question? What good does it do to wish, to hope, to wonder what I could have done if I were... different? What good does it do to try and be brave... when I am so afraid?”

Dawn Chaser shook his head. “I don't know why we are different, Star, nor do I understand why things have happened as they have. But you mustn't blame yourself, and you must not give in to grief. I know you. I know what kind of strength is in your heart. I do not believe for a moment that earth ponies are weak or valueless. You all have power of your own. And one day, you will find it again.”

His voice was so sure, his face so resolute and determined. Mourning Star wished she could believe him. “Dawn, do you think they'll ever come back?” she asked, looking up at the stone monarchs. “Do you think they ever even existed...?”

“I don't know, Star.” He smiled, and rested his head against hers. “Perhaps. Or perhaps not. It may be that Equestria will see them again one day. Until then, we are on our own.” He stood, and gently helped her to her feet. “But never alone.”

She dried her eyes and embraced him. “So long as I have all of you... I have hope. And-” The two ponies turned at the sound of the clatter of hooves upon the smooth, wet stones; the pegasi had returned, gliding out of the fog on silent wings. Her head twinged painfully, but she did her best to ignore it as she listened for what they had to say.

Renault spoke to them in his calm, low voice. “Well, are we clear?” Neither of the hooded ponies replied immediately; the taller looked to his companion, who was staring at the ground with empty eyes. Empty. Like mine, Mourning Star thought. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. The taller finally spoke, his voice quiet and tremulous. “Aye, sir, we are, only... only...” His eyes darted to Mourning Star.

Renault glanced at her, but otherwise paid her no mind. “Go on, my friend, we have little time. If something has happened, I would prefer to know of it.”

The pegasus' gaze fell to his hooves. “It... it isn't good, sir.”

It wasn't. Mourning Star later thought that the parish interior might have seemed beautiful—it had a certain unique prestige, redoubted though it was, greatly enhanced by its vaulted ceilings and vaunted architecture—had it not been for the grisly scene that awaited them at the foot of the dais.

The two pegasi hung above them, supported by the clutch of pikes that passed through their bodies at hideous angles. Blood oozed thick and dark from the punctures, congealing in ugly stains and drying crustily in coat and mane alike, streaking the once full and lustrous colors with ribbons of rust and brown. The pikes had been driven forcefully into the stone below, a feat Mourning Star guessed could only have been achieved with magic. The figures contorted sinisterly in death, looking for all the world like a pair of rag doll marionettes, frozen in time upon their final, macabre travesty of a stage. Their wings had been sheared from their bodies, only to be reattached to the other in ignominious mutilation. Behind them, on a wall tapestried with the exquisite carvings of stone and glass, was scrawled a bloody, nefarious device: two twisted, asymmetrical horns trimmed with evil, leathery wings. It reeked of a mocking animosity. Beneath it, bloodied and jagged, a single phrase was written.

We will suffer no neutrality.

Time to come home.

For a long time, the only sounds in the refectory were the muted patter of the rain and the slow, steady dripping of blood. The shrouded unicorns and pegasi all gazed silently up at their comrades, each with a different expression of fear or sorrow or anger or bewilderment upon his or her face. Mourning Star forced herself to see as well, and did not look away. This is what I hoped for. This is what I wished upon them. This is what I wanted.

Hadn't she?

Renault stared with them. For what seemed like ages he stood and looked, his jaw working restlessly beneath the ebony helm, his blue eyes sad and tired as they searched for answers, and found none. “Take them down,” he finally said after long moments had passed. “They deserve a better rest than this.” His followers obeyed. The unicorns carefully drew the pikes from the bodies, manipulating the shafts with their magic while the pegasi broke them down and piled them high. They worked quickly, but ever so delicately, so as to preserve the bodies of their fallen friends as much as possible. They said not a word as they labored.

A pegasus mare the color of leaves broke the silence. “He knows. Doesn't he.” It was not a question, and her tone betrayed that she knew the answer already. Every pony stopped and turned to look at their commander.

“Beyond a doubt.”

A chill descended over the group, ominous as the writing on the wall. The black-cloaked ponies shared quick, nervous glances, all of them struggling to keep their obvious apprehension at bay. Mourning Star tried not to think of it, to ignore it, but the name hung there in the air, maleficent even when unsaid. Discord. Her head throbbed as the word passed through her mind, and the rain wept quietly over the roof and rafters.

The scar on the white pegasus' jaw stretched taught as he grimaced. “Hurry,” he said, glaring once more at the symbol on the wall. “We have lingered here too long already.”

Soon the task was done, and the unicorns tenderly lay the two pegasi against the mound of wood. There was a spark, and a small, bright flame illuminated the unicorn whose coat was the amber-brown of fallen pine, coalesced at the tip of her horn.

“Wait.” Renault moved toward the pyre. He knelt to softly clean the blood and dirt from a knotted, ragged mane. Despite the blood, it was silken, and ran like sand through his hooves. He brushed the hair aside so that it did not cover the eyes; eyes that had once been placid and serene, now clouded by death. He closed them. “You did not let me down,” he whispered quietly. He stood, and nodded to the pine-needle unicorn. The kindling caught, and the room was bathed in warm, lambent light. They did not stay to watch the bodies burn.

Out in the wet once again, night had fallen completely. It was black, as no moon or stars shone through the clouds above. A number of the unicorns conjured up a small, pale beacon to light the darkness around them. The cold breeze still blew through the grasses, keening a quiet lament. Mourning Star found herself beside Renault. The imposing pegasus kept his eyes forward, as if determined to not look back. Her head continued to ache painfully. The ongoing pain frustrated her, and her frustration made her incitant and bold. “I'm interested,” she said blithely, “What is it about fire that fascinates you so?”

He ignored her tone. “I can appreciate that it may be different for an earth pony such as yourself, but for me, a pegasus... well, I can think of a worse end than to return to the sky.”

“An end befitting that particular young pegasus?”

“What of her?”

“She was important to you.”

“All of those under my command are important to me.” He seemed intent on moving forward, and at dismissing her attempts at confrontation. “At times... sacrifice is inevitable.”

A curious sensation was coming over Mourning Star. She could feel all of her rage, all of her pain, all of her hatred, and all of her fear boiling together. Her unmitigated passion gave her courage, and somehow the words came from her mouth unbidden. “Such is the way of things,” she said derisively.

That stopped him. He regarded her coldly. “Now you begin to understand.” Renault towered over her, frozen eyes looking down on her through a mask of black steel. “I do not ask for your forgiveness, little pony. I have done only what I must. Yes, she and I were... close. I, and those around me, have paid dearly for our transgressions, and we will pay even more before this is done.” He turned away.

You could never pay enough. “I had ones who were important to me, too. But they were stolen from me by a coward who cares nothing for innocents or for those he professes to love.”

He rounded on her, his anger flashing visibly on his face even in the dark. “Tell me, is it vengeance you desire? Recompense for what the world has taken from you? This world is all we have, and what it determines to take, we should be proud to give. I am no more a monster than what it has made of me.” His eyes narrowed contemptuously. “No more than it has made of you.”

“This has nothing to do with me!”

“This has EVERYTHING to do with you!” he snarled, his face blazing malevolence. By now, every pony's eyes were upon the pair; the shrouded unicorns and pegasi watched with solemn faces, but made no move to interfere. Dawn Chaser, Solace, and Sojourn huddled together, fearful for their friend. “My ponies have taken lives and given their own in the sole interest of Equestria! My ponies have lived and died to find you, to protect you, to spirit you away so that YOU will not one day be used to tear this land apart! Are you so naïve to think that it is us that Discord hunts? We are nothing to him. I am nothing. But you, you are everything.” There was a surge of feathers as the pegasus raised a powerful white wing and placed it on her forehead. Mourning Star flinched, but did not back away. “And it is not just Discord who seeks you, little earth pony. Oh, no.” His voice had grown deathly quiet and insidious. “There are worse things than chaos in this world. I know who stalks your dreams at night.”

His words froze her heart, haunting in their impendence. What does he mean? What could Discord want with me? Her head pulsed painfully, and she tried to ignore it. Her mind knew the truth, though, and she could feel the images and feelings pouring over her, even now. And the figure, the black figure with black wings and a teeming mane of liquid starlight, and emptiness, emptiness, and nothing to shelter her from the dark beyond...

Renault went on. “Do you really think that something as abstract as our feelings, as our hopes and dreams, have any bearing on our reality? Equestria bends for those with the will and power to move her, and we few are the only ones left to keep her from breaking. There is no antipathy in what I have done, no malice for the lives I have taken. Whether by my hooves or those of another, your foals were dead either way.”

“Only a monster would murder children and have the audacity to call it fate.”

“We will do whatever we must to safeguard this world! You should be thanking me; there are those among us here who would have rather seen you dead. But I learned long, long ago, that the easy solution is seldom the correct one. You have a part to play in this, for good or ill, whether you accept it or not. All I can do is protect you, with my life if need be, and if I have to do so over the corpses of a thousand foals, so be it.”

“I wish you had let them kill me! Death would have been better than having to live with... with all of this...” Tears ran unchecked from her wide, grey eyes. “You speak of a world that judges lives on the basis of destiny, but then you take them of your own volition. What gives you the right, to choose death or life for others? You told me that there would be time for hatred later. There will never be enough time. Whatever becomes of this world, whatever becomes of me, I will hate you. I will hate you until there is nothing left of me but that hatred!”

And then there was silence, all but for the wind, and the rain, and the young grey pony's furious, shaking sobs. Renault gazed at her for a long time, and a strange expression came over the eyes that looked out from behind their steel prison. “I am sorry that things turned out like this. Believe me, had there been any other way...” He looked up, and nodded austerely to his dark ponies. “Hate me more, if that is your wish, for what I must now do. I will not blame you for it.”

The dark ones fell upon the four ponies. Mourning Star watched in terror as her friends were bound with magic and forcefully dragged away from her. “No, no, stop,” she said meekly. “No, please, what are you doing? NO!” Sojourn threw an aggressor to the ground, his horn glowing fiercely, only to be hammered with the magic that collided with him from three sides. He flew off his hooves and crumpled to the mud. She tried to go to him, but her legs would not move: her limbs were held in place, and she could only watch as she saw Dawn Chaser trying to fight off two pegasi at once, his wings still bound and useless.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Mourning Star's tears fell heavy as the rain, and her head pounded to the pulse of her pain and fear. Somewhere in the distance, she heard Renault call out. He was taking them away from her. No. Why. Why? Two unicorns moved toward Mourning Star to secure her as she thrashed about, trying desperately to free herself from the invisible shackles. They closed in on her, and she yelled... and suddenly the unicorns were blasted away. Her senses filled one by one with pain, every part of her submitting to the endless internal agony that stemmed from her mind. She heard shouts, curses, Solace screaming for her and for her brother, and Renault bellowing orders as the torment engulfed everything. And then all sound was gone, and she saw nothing but darkness, black wings, and the stars.