BlackStar
Prelude: Dawning
Load Full StoryThe warming rays of the Sun shine in through Twilight's bedroom window. It's life-giving energy bearing down upon her sheets, shaking her from the comfort of her cool pillow.
"Ugh. Five more minutes..." Twilight groaned as she drew the covers over her head. Under normal circumstances, she's quite the early bird. But today, it seems, she got very little rest. Her body aches and complains, begging to be released again into the depths of unconsciousness. The sun, however, is relentless in it's pursuit. It drives it's never-ending stream of energetic photons deep into Twilight's coat. "Fine, fine, I'll get up!" she growls. She wants nothing to do with mornings right now.
Despite her protests, she forces herself away from her sheets, and plops all four of her hooves onto the floor. Each step forward seems to grind at her bones, draining away what little stamina her worn form has. Slowly, but surely, she meanders down the steps from her bedroom, and complains under her breath all the way to the kitchen. The lavender-coated alicorn pulls the refrigerator door open with her trembling hoof, and fumbles within, searching to find the elixir that will restore her strength, sharpen her mind and prepare her for the challenges of the day.
With a relieved sigh, she uncovers the end-all and be-all of morning drinks. Orange juice. Forgoing the civility of a drinking glass, she brings the opened lid of the container to her lips, and relishes the sweet and tart embrace of the cool liquid gracing her tongue.
The single drop that managed to do so.
Her relief quickly switches to exasperation, groaning gruff and loud at her new predicament. In a fuss, she tosses the empty carton into the nearest bin, propelling it at lethal speeds fueled by her growing temper. Diving back into the fridge, she begins her search anew. Her throat dry, her stomach voicing it's concern, she hunts for something to sate her needs. And almost as if a gift from the Goddesses themselves presented it's holy countenance, she saw it. The end to her woes, if only for now.
The cool, amber liquid rests in it's clear glass bottle, the thin mist forming on the skin of it's container highlighting it's remarkable beauty. Apple juice. A full bottle, at that. Like a homeless mare, she wrestles the bottle from it's cold tomb, and frees the lid from her prize. Twilight presses the thin mouth of the bottle against her own, and gulps down the sweet ambrosia. While not quite as invigorating as the legendary orange juice, it will do the job for now. Sitting at her kitchen counter, she reaches back into her memory. Why did she sleep so poorly? What robs her of her usual early morning joviality? Despite her best efforts, she simply couldn't recall what laid waste to her.
Having finished the entire bottle of juice, Twilight decides she could go for a pastry. Well, it is early, she could just go back to sleep. She glances up at the clock to get an idea of just how much she can rest.
9:55
Twilight's eyes widen to saucers, unbelieving in the information presented to her. "It's almost ten! What the hay have I been doing?" She darts up from the kitchen stool, frantically running around the library's main chamber. "Spike! Spiiike!" she cries, desperate to get a grip on her worsening situation.
The familiar green and purple dragon she calls friend rolls down the stairs, bouncing a few times on his way down. As he approaches the final step, is tiny dragon form slams into the floor before his pony master, facing up towards the blinding sun.
"Ugh." Spike could only muster one, defeated grunt before closing his eyes once more.
"Spike! Get up! It's ten in the morning, we don't have time to lay around! We have work to do!"
"Twilight, come on, it's Sunday. What could we possibly have to do? Besides, didn't Celestia want you to start relaxing on the weekends?' As Spike finishes his argument, the realization dawns upon the purple creature. She gets to sleep more! The equine girl sighs once more as relief washes over her. Climbing the steps back to her bed, she is content to let her little dragon sleep where he is. Those scales have to come in handy sometimes, you know.
She reaches the end of her bed, and with a satisfied smile on her face, she climbs into the bed and under her comfortable sheets. As she is laying down, she uses a quick burst of magic to close the blinds, barring the path for those warm rays to intrude upon her vital slumber. Twilight closes her eyes, and lets the annals of sleep take her, an inky blackness filling her conscious mind.
