Nightmares Never Ceaseby TooShyShyChaptersIt Went AwryA New NightmareGood Dreams and Bad DreamsPrologueIt Went AwryTwilight Sparkle was in her library, which was not strange. But she was not immersed in a book, which was unheard of. It was a little past midnight, known half-seriously as “the magic hour”. Many unicorns believed that magic was at its strongest at this time. Those practicing a difficult spell would often save their efforts for when Luna's light was suspended high in the sky. Corroborating evidence that magical ability increased during “the magic hour” was lacking, but the belief persisted even among older and more skilled unicorns. Twilight Sparkle herself was dubious of the rumored “magic hour”. Just for this particular night, she suspended her own skepticism. For the spell she was attempting, she required every bit of magical power at her disposal. Taking direction from several old legends, she had turned off all the lights in the library and illuminated the room with candles. She had also opened several spellbooks around her, another precaution advised by ancient stories told by unicornfolk. She was now sitting in this dimly-lit room with her eyes closed. She allowed the silence and calmness to fill her, taking her to a place of serenity within her own mind. She was channeling magic, more magic than she had ever channeled during even her most desperate and dangerous exploits. Without preamble, the quiet shattered into a thousand pieces. Startled, the purple alicorn opened her eyes. The disturbance was so abrupt and unexpected that she at first thought the world itself had exploded around her. Her gaze sweeping the immediate vicinity for the source, she half-expected to find a gaping hole where one of the walls had been. But instead of destruction, her eyes came to rest on a young dragon standing in the shadows. Spike's features were draped with shadows and barely visible in the darkness. He appeared to be holding a round item of some sort in his hands. When he spoke, it was with a voice that hinted he had swallowed something a few seconds previous. “Um...hi, Twi?” he uttered nervously. Concentration was out of the question for the time being. Twilight stood up, wearing the severe, motherly look she reserved for Spike. The effect was almost spoiled by the fact that her features could barely be seen in the meager light. Fortunately, the presence of a horn and wings, both outlined in the semi-blackness, boosted her air of power. She had noticed within days of receiving them that other ponies seemed to sense her enhanced authority before they even glimpsed the wings and horn. The lights sprang to life and the candles extinguished themselves. “Why are you awake at this time of night?” Twilight demanded sternly. With the regular lights illuminating the area, she noticed that the round object in his hands was a tub of ice cream. She deduced that he had vacated his bed for one of his late-night ice cream binges. She highly objected to this habit of his, but she had been doomed from the moment her number one assistant discovered he could melt the lock on the fridge. “Um...what are you doing awake?” Spike responded hastily. Twilight appeared to be on the verge of a lecture, but she swallowed her words. Normally she would have seized the ice cream tube, given him an austere talking-to, and dragged him back to bed by his ear. Fortunately for the young dragon, she was quite eager to talk about what she was doing. If all went as planned, she would be demonstrating something monumental to the other princesses. It was fitting that Spike would be the first to hear of it. “I'm practicing a new kind of teleportation spell,” she explained with the ghost of a proud smile. The young dragon was confused by her explanation. “But you can already teleport,” he reminded her. “It's one of the first spells you learned.” Twilight was rather touched that Spike remembered such a thing. He had been scarcely older than a newborn when she mastered that rare spell. She hadn't been aware that his memory went back that far. Rather than praise him on his excellent recollection skills, she rushed to further explain her actions. “Yes, Spike, but this is an entirely new kind of teleportation that no unicorn has ever mastered! Aren't you curious about what others worlds are like? Haven't you ever stared at the night sky and pondered on the infinite possibilities of other universes? If I can perfect this spell, I'll be able to travel freely through all of them!” If she expected immense awe, she was disappointed by her companion's reaction. Spike was silent, pondering what he had been told. While he was not experienced in spellcasting beyond what he had observed, he doubted that such a complicated spell was worth mastering or even attempting. The dangers of it seemed to far outweigh the rewards. He knew the threats that existed in their own universe, from the timberwolves to more powerful enemies such as Queen Chrysalis. If Twilight was able to freely walk between worlds, it was impossible to predict what enemies she would encounter and if she would be able to defeat them. Spike's fear of losing his mother/sister figure intensified as he imagined the horrors she could be forced into a confrontation with when she utilized this new spell of hers. Not to mention he was already being tormented by what would occur if the spell went wrong and she ended up trapped in an unfamiliar place with no means of escape. A worried Spike summed up his concerns with a single question. “Is that....a good idea?” Twilight was insulted that he would ask a query of that nature. Although it was egotistical of her, she prided herself on being accurate at least ninety percent of the time. If Princess Celestia, one of the most powerful beings in Equestria, trusted her with alicorn magic, it was obvious that she knew when using it was “a good idea”. “Yes, Spike, it is,” she replied haughtily. “Isn't it past your bedtime?” He resented being spoken to as if he were an average little child, but the sleepy dragon did not complain or protest. He ascended the stairs to the second floor, sparing his friend a perturbed glance over his shoulder. He wished to tell her that she was making a grave error by attempting this particular piece of magic, but he had no logical argument against anything she was doing. He only had worries that would most likely not stop her if she was determined. Spike suffered a sleepless night. It was the first of many. With Spike safely upstairs, Twilight returned to her mission. She turned off the lights, restored the illumination of the candles, and sat on the library floor again. She closed her eyes, attempting to block out everything that had annoyed her in the past ten minutes. Channeling her magic, she focused solely on that feeling of peace. She let the renewed silence, the renewed serenity, fill her once again. Moments passed. Hours, perhaps. Time was nothing to an alicorn in deep concentration. Her mind had lifted her outside of time and space. Twilight felt a tiny bubble, a minuscule sphere of warmth and light, expanding within her body. The magic inside of her was forcing itself into this sphere as it expanded. She felt it struggle, as if it was a living creature trying to burst through her stomach and chest. But she grasped it with her mind and compelled it to remain in its place. The warmth inside of her intensified as the sphere grew at an even hastier pace. It wanted to devour her from the inside, but she could not permit it to do so. With great effort that only the Element of Magic could summon, she tightened her grip on the spell. Her hooves, her ears, her horn, and her tail tingled with its power. As if a sudden breeze had entered the room, the candles extinguished once again In the darkness, Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes at last. A ripple of electricity darted through her body, driving a gasp of surprise from her mouth. And then, in a flash of light that briefly illuminated the room, Twilight Sparkle disappeared. The world was twisting and lurching. Twilight Sparkle was falling, then she was flying, then she was on solid ground, then she was standing on water, then she was sailing through a sky that felt like an ocean. These alterations happened with such speed that she felt as if she was being thrown through an endless cycle of worlds. She saw brief glimpses of sky, ocean, sand, and landscapes that seemed to be made of nothing. And throughout this her body twisted and lurched even worse than everything around her. It was not painful, but it was not pleasant. Finally, after minutes or hours, the world became still. The forever shifting backdrop settled into a shimmer of dark sapphire and pale ribbons of white. Pallid impressions of stars studded this unfamiliar place. It was an imitation of the night sky, except more beautiful than the night sky had ever been. Floating in this place, Twilight was reminded of the celestial plain she had visited when she became an alicorn. With a jolt, she recalled that her transformation had only occurred a month or two ago. Many things had happened in that relatively short time that made it seem that it had been a year ago. Is this another celestial plane? she wondered. Did I pass another test? The idea pleased her, but it did not seem likely. If she had indeed passed another one of Princess Celestia's concealed tests, what would happen to her? One couldn't progress higher than an alicorn. Perhaps she was going to grow another pair of wings and another horn? Twilight was thinking over that unpleasant idea when she heard voices. “Tia, come play with me!” “I'm working on a spell, Lulu. Play with those dolls I made you.” The voices sounded vaguely familiar to Twilight. Yet she could not attach them to any mare or stallion she had met in her life. For that matter, she was confused as to where they were coming from. Had she indeed teleported herself to a new universe inhabited by sentient beings? But when she glanced around, she saw only a blank landscape of shimmering colors and stars. “Big sister, must I eat this filth?” “Lulu, it's good for you. You'll never master your magic if you're still a weedy little thing when you're my age. Don't you want to become big and strong like me?” A sharp intake of breath from the purple alicorn. She could now identify the owners of the voices, although they sounded a bit younger. She had heard them many times before. If she was not mistaken, it was... “Princess Celestia?” she called hopefully. “Princess Luna?” No answer came back to her. Yet the disembodied voices of the sisters, younger than she had ever heard them in real life, rang out clearly. It was as if she was hearing echoes of them that had traveled over distant time frames. Then a thought, an impossible yet possible thought, sprouted in her mind. Is this Princess Luna's....mind? That would account for the gorgeous imitation of the night sky. It would explain the disembodied voices of the princesses. If this was Princess Luna's mind, the voices were simply reverberations of memories. Exchanges between Princess Luna and her sister “Tia” that she vaguely remembered from a time far in the past. But that's impossible! Twilight told herself, bemused. How can I be inside somepony's mind? Yet, as impossible as it was, all the pieces fit into place of their own accord. She could not explain how the spell had resulted in her being in this place, but she had no alternate explanation. Somehow, whether it was rational or not, she has accidentally teleported into the mind of the famed Princess of the Night. And she had no clue how to escape. A New NightmareThe obvious solution was teleportation. A spell Twilight Sparkle had known for many years. She had been praised for mastering it as a mere filly when many older unicorns struggled with it. With her alicorn magic, a big leap should be even less of a problem for her. Alas, the obvious solution was the impossible one. For Twilight discovered within two minutes of trying that she was incapable of teleporting. She was incapable of even drawing the magic she would require for a mere levitation spell. For reasons beyond her comprehension, her magic had been rendered unusable. Adding to the fear this naturally caused, she had no idea when or if it would return to her. A terrified Twilight Sparkle reflected on her predicament. Her friends would notice her absence at once, as would the other princesses. Her parents would eventually be informed that their daughter, the newly-inagurated princess they looked at with pride in their eyes, had vanished. Spike, the only one she had confided in, would undoubtedly relate the story of the attempted spell to everypony. However, how would anypony find her? They would, if they were able to, seek her in other worlds. None of them would expect her to be in Princess Luna's mind. Less broad, but still troubling, fears forced themselves into Twilight's brain. Would she require food in such a place? Would she eventually die from starvation? If she died, what would happen to her body? Would it steadily decay as was normal? Would it turn to dust and be scattered, akin to the stars, across this landscape? Or would she be blessed with immortality that came with the price of everything? Lack of knowledge was one of Twilight Sparkle's biggest fears. To be trapped in a place in which answers were impossible to grasp and her intellect could do nothing for her was a terror beyond her worst nightmares. Twilight did not notice the “thing” that had joined her for many moments. It concealed itself expertly inside the backdrop of stars and sky, as if it belonged there. A remnant of a previous night sky pressed stealthily against the current one, its ethereal form practically invisible. But when it moved, this disguise was abruptly, and perhaps intentionally, cast aside. It shifted and flowed like some sort of dark liquid, its own stars shining against its transparent skin. The purple alicorn regarded it with mistrust, her gaze marking its lazy progress across the lunar plain. She could not identify it as more than an indistinct “thing”, yet she felt certain that she had seen it before. Something about its sinuous form brought forth a certain recollection, but the memory was too blurry to be read. The thing spoke, although it had no mouth to do so. Its voice slunk across the landscape akin to a serpent, a dry whisper that resembled ancient pages scraping against one another. It sounded tired, as if it had been speaking for a millennium without rest. “Luna.......Luna....... My sweetest, my dearest, the most beloved of the princesses. Why did you lock me away? Why did you leave me in this place? Oh dear, sweet Luna, my vessel of the night...” A chill of horror skittered across Twilight's spine. The very essence of the voice seemed to be creeping across her body. “It is so cold in here, my dearest Luna. I need the light. I need the sun. Please, my sweetest...” Twilight Sparkle wanted to distance herself from the thing as it approached, but she could not move. Her body was frozen and helpless, only her eyes able to follow the thing's inevitable progress. She knew, as if she had seen it written somewhere, that it had been wandering aimlessly in this empty place for many a year, but now it had become a creature of purpose. And its purpose was one she could not allow. “Warmth. Magic. Yes.....magic.......” The last word was entangled within a moan of sheer pleasure. It had sensed her, a living being trapped and vulnerable within this place. It had no limbs to feel and no eyes to see, but it was being pulled toward the only other inhabitant of this lunar plain. The magic, the power, was reeling it toward the unexpected vessel that had appeared inside its prison. A throbbing sensation spread through Twilight's horn. This was followed by a warm feeling, the type of feeling that normally accompanied the casting of a spell. Yet it felt detached from her body, as if another had tapped into the magic that eluded her in this place. Her magic had begun working separate from her will. A wall, a solid yet transparent wall of soft lavender, expanded to obstruct the thing's path. The thing was sucked toward this barrier, its liquid form sinking into it as if the wall was constructed from purple gelatin. It could not advance past this abrupt obstacle. It pressed itself deeper into the barrier, but it did not yield. On the contrary, it appeared to be leaking into the patch of detached night sky. And the creature was absorbing it as a cloth absorbs liquid, unable to resist the barrier's influence. Twilight's horn was glowing white hot, the intense heat threatening to singe her mane. Her magic was struggling to block this outside penetration from reaching its objective. The strain felt as if it was aging her body a hundred days for every second. She no longer cared how improbable the situation was. She only cared that this thing, this creature, be barred from entering her. The thing had begun expanding as it fought against the barricade. It was no longer passively allowing itself to be absorbed by the magical protection standing between it and its prey. Its stars shone brighter than before in its counterattack. It was pushing, struggling with every ounce of power it had against the obstruction. With every bit of effort it sank a little deeper into the barrier, but it did not emerge from the other side. A tongue of purple flame blossomed from the end of Twilight's horn. The flame twisted in the air for a moment as if tasting it. Then, flowing as effortlessly as a serpent, it rushed to push against the other side of the wall. The moment it touched the wall, lavender fire began to lick at the edges of it. This caused the determined invader to falter, glimmering faintly at the added attack. But with a burst of its own power, it sent a a shimmering tail of bright stars directly through the barrier and toward the alicorn on the other side. A cry of alarm leapt halfway from Twilight's throat, but it did not surface. The magic pulsating in her horn seemed to have prevented her vocal cords from functioning properly. The most that emerged from her mouth was a dull squeak of horror that was barely audible even in the silence. With obvious vehemence, the purple flame sped toward the approaching comet-shaped projectile and halted its progress before it could reach the alicorn. In a motion too quick for Twilight's eyes to perceive, the beam twisted itself around the tail of luminous stars. The two struggled, each attempting to absorb the other, but neither would surrender to their adversary. They resembled two snakes intertwined and battling in the air. Meanwhile, a spiderweb of cracks had appeared in the barrier. The invader's efforts were paying off, the protection steadily weakening against its immense power. “Nightmares cannot die. They can only become stronger.” Many things happened in the exact same moment. Twilight's horn gave a feeble flicker and extinguished itself, too exhausted to offer anymore resistance. The barrier shattered like glass, its remains evaporating into thin air. The battling snakes melted into the world around them, dissolving into nothingness that could help nopony. Triumphant, the thing rushed towards its prey too quickly to be stopped. Helpless, Twilight could only stand there as it washed over her. She felt it sinking into her body, as cold as the night. She felt as if a nonexistent hoof, borne from ice and hatred, had penetrated her chest. A frigid blackness was taking over the magic that flowed in her veins, corrupting the purity left there by her Element. She was powerless to resist the dominance as it slowly consumed everything inside of her. She had seen the thing before. But the memory had been imperceptible against a backdrop of startling events. She had glimpsed it many times out of the corner of her eye, without registering its presence with more than her subconscious notebook. In fact, she had seen it at a much closer range as it morphed into a dark and sinister mare. A whisper drifted into Twilight's ear. The voice was light and hoarse with pleasure. “At last...” A shriek erupted from Princess Luna's throat as she awakened. She sat up in bed, flinging the covers from her as she did so. She had never been yanked from slumber with such a terrifying jolt before, even at times when she sensed her sister's nightmares. Her entire body had just convulsed as if in extraordinary agony and perspiration had broken out over her entire body. Was she still in a nightmare? The fear, the immense feeling of danger and impending chaos.... However, these were all momentary troubles. The moment she realized that she was safely in her bedroom, these evaporated as quickly as they had sprouted. The fear slunk away into the deepest depths of her mind, as if often did proceeding any type of dream. She was safe in the real world. “At last....” The soft, sinister echo from the dream world gave Luna pause. But she could not attach an image or even a mere emotion to the words. She only knew that they had sparked a type of unease she had become a stranger to over her years of fighting back monsters that stalked the night. The Princess of the Night lay back against her pillow, scowling at the painted night sky upon the ceiling. She was sure she had been having a nightmare. Good Dreams and Bad Dreams“Scootaloo.......sweet child of noble pegasi......” The voice was cold, yet welcoming. It flowed tenderly into the filly's ear, practically caressing the interior of it. Scootaloo halted, but only for the slightest moment. Cheerilee had warned them to avoid the horrors that lurked behind disembodied voices. She had explained, in vivid detail that spawned a formidable number of bad dreams, that spirits and such were not to be trusted. She weaved intricate tales to the young ponies of travelers lost, killed, or driven to madness by the instructions and tricks of those they could not see. “Do not fear, Scootaloo. You are among your equals.” It was broad daylight. Surely this was not a time for a voice from nowhere to be pursuing Scootaloo as she returned to her house. Oddly, there was nopony around to aid the unfortunate filly, despite it being in the middle of the afternoon. She wondered about this strangeness, but she was more concerned with distancing herself from the source of the disembodied pleas. She increased her speed, her inefficient wings vibrating in an effort to help. "What is wrong, Scootaloo? Do you think they are your equals?" A cruel, high-pitched laugh that resembled that of Sweetie Belle caused Scootaloo to pause in her escape. “Sweetie? Is this some kind of weird joke?” The response was another malevolent laugh, this time bearing resemblance to the country drawl of Apple Bloom. But it only resembled Apple Bloom's laugh, for Apple Bloom's had never held such frosty antipathy. The darkness etched around it chilled Scootaloo even more than the mysterious voice that somehow knew her identity. “No one is equal to you, Scootaloo. They laugh behind your back. They shake their heads and smile at poor flightless Scootaloo. Their love for you is from pity, not affection.” Rainbow Dash's face, stern and unrelenting, swung at Scootaloo from the corner of her brain. “Don't listen, squirt! T--” A flick of magic resonated through the air, strong enough to be physical. This single flick silenced the wise words of Rainbow Dash, snuffing out the hint of her encouraging presence. With this jab of magic, Scootaloo was utterly alone in this vacant town. Alone to face a creature she could not see, touch, or fight. “I can give you love, Scootaloo. I can give you purpose. You will serve all of Equestria in ways that nopony ever has. Don't you want to be useful, Scootaloo?” Useful. Scootaloo allowed the word to unlock a door in her heart. A door she had barricaded behind memories of a rainbow-maned pegasus she admired with a passion. She thought of her parents, barely skilled in anything, yet working tirelessly at jobs that scarcely paid enough for their modest house. She rarely saw them, as they would sometimes work for days without returning to their home. Scootaloo had once believed that she could aid them, could be useful, by obtaining employment herself. But without functioning wings, she was not even suited to entertain drunken griffons as her parents did to earn a living. She could not properly prepare meals, she could not work, she could not even clean the house in a manner that satisfied even the most understanding of parents. She could not be useful. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to help Equestria.” “You shall, Scootaloo. You shall help Equestria.” The world around her had begun to shift, although she had not noticed. Now, with her words as a signal, it began to melt. The sky, the grass, the buildings, everything, began to run into each other akin to scenery on a wet canvas. Scootaloo did not seem surprised or curious about this unusual happening. She stared, a very strange smile on her features, as the dream dissolved around her. All that was left was an orange pegasus, gazing with blank eyes into the darkness of her bedroom. Alone. The word pounded in Sweetie Belle's skull like a second heartbeat. I'm completely alone. But why? She had been having such a lovely picnic with her older sibling. There had been no complaints, no bickering of any kind, and not the slightest hint of rush. A beautiful day, a serene, laughing Rarity, a repast comprised of foods they both adored. All had been flawless. Then Rarity had suggested that her little sister procure some flowers to complete the image of a perfect picnic lunch... Now the poor unicorn filly was alone in the forest. She could no longer hear the joyful humming of Rarity, nor, when she looked back, could she see her older sister's perfectly-styled mane. She had somehow wandered deeper into the forest than intended. However, she felt as if she had strode away from Rarity and into another realm entirely. I could be in here forever.... Sweetie Belle shivered, but attempted to lay a hoof on her courage. Logically, she should be able to follow the path and it would lead her to where she had begun. She would find herself in the clearing, where there was light, laughter, and protection. More to the point, it was foolish for her to be in such a state of terror. She had ventured into this very forest a few times previous, once or twice without any companionship. If she could be brave once, she could be brave as many times as she needed to be. But there was no path underneath Sweetie Belle's hooves. When she turned, there was nothing to behold except the skeletons of long-dead trees looming menacingly before her as if prepared to attack. “Rarity!” The name burst from Sweetie Belle's mouth as her newfound bravery turned to dust. With only a small prompt, she had relapsed back into her previous state of dread. Her only comfort was that if she screamed, her sister was sure to come. That was the one thing she could count on, regardless of how many times they were at loggerheads. Rarity would always be at her side in moments if she shrieked with urgency in her voice. “RARITY!” Her heart nearly melted with happiness when the sound of approaching hooves met her ears. She waited, excited and relieved, as they became louder and louder. In less than a moment, she noted a familiar white and purple shape as it approached her, galloping quickly in her direction. The Rarity that appeared did not resemble the one from the picnic. The purple mane, once styled with the utmost care, hung limply across her head. Entangled within the lifeless locks were thick cobwebs and deceased beetles. Dripping from many of the strands was a dark red substance that seemed fresh. The eyes, normally aglow with the aftermath of another brilliant idea, were hollow and devoid of color. When the mouth parted, one could see two rows of maliciously pointed teeth coated with the same dark red liquid. “Ra-Rarity?” Sweetie Belle stammered uncertainly. The mouth parted. The voice that drifted from it was as dry as the wilting leaves of autumn. “Sweetie Belle, stop messing with my material. Sweetie Belle, you've tracked mud all over my inspiration room. Sweetie Belle, you ruined all of my hard work. Sweetie Belle, why don't you just go away and leave me alone?” The young unicorn felt her eyes burn with impending sobs. She knew this creature was not Rarity, that it only spoke words of false hatred to trick her. And yet, the anguish she felt was too intense for a mere illusion, as if her real older sister had spoken those disparaging things. Perhaps she had seen the words perched on the edge of Rarity's tongue on some occasion... “It's sad, isn't it? Such a clever little filly, shunned by her own sister....” The nightmare version of Rarity had vanished. Sweetie Belle was once again alone, but it was not the aloneness that scared her now. It was not even the voice from nowhere that was making her heart pound frantically against her chest. She was thinking of Rarity, of her parents, of....... “Your parents complain a lot, don't they? You always get in the way. And when they try to give you to Rarity so they can have some peace, you start getting in her way. It never ends, Sweetie Belle. You can only disrupt the adults and their work.” Sweetie Belle was always excited to stay with her big sister, even if it was a mere weekend. But she had always been aware, somewhere deep in the bowels of her mind, that her parents found her to be annoying. Her track record of being forcibly excused from family vacations and many other such events did not lie. “You're intelligent, Sweetie Belle. You have potential, you have magic, you have power that would rival your sister.” Power that would rival her sister, the brilliant designer who could do no wrong? Potential? Sweetie Belle had never heard such a word applied to her, even when being addressed by her optimistic teacher. Nopony had ever suggested, even in jest, that she had potential. Nopony had ever looked at Rarity's sister and seen anything more than that dismissive title. “Skill needs a place to blossom. Do you think it can blossom while you stand next to your sister, the holder of an Element of Harmony?” Sweetie Belle shook her head. She was too excited to trust her tongue at the moment. She could only think of all the things promised if her superior power really existed. If it was true, she was promised a role to rival Rarity's. She was promised the endless respect that had once gone to her older sibling. She was promised the admiration of her parents. She was promised a life unlike she had ever known before. “You will have that place, Sweetie Belle.” Rumble turned sharply in the fog. Had he heard hoofsteps? A single, shallow breath close to his ear? A stifled wail of despair from a pony wronged? Or, in the worst case scenario, all three to create one horrifying incident? Rumble despised fog. It was as if all the clouds in the sky had swarmed around him to blot out the beauty of the landscape. Without validation that the endless sky, the pride and desire of every pegasus, still existed above him, his feeling of vulnerability extended dangerously. He suspected that many pegasi must experience this at times when their view of the sky was obstructed for a long period of time, but it probed deeper into his emotions than those of the others. Many did not know it, but Rumble was not his older brother Thunderlane in miniature. He was not recklessly courageous or attractive to females. He was timid, chased by many fears, and easily frightened by the slightest noise. The image he projected to outsiders was only that: An image, produced for the satisfaction of those beholding it and not for any realism. In the fog, the realization that everything he showed to others was a fabrication caught up to him. This is why he hated fog more than anything else. “Fly from your fears...” An old nighttime song passed down from earlier generations of pegasi. The lyrics had been altered over the years, transitioning a grim chant of brave warriors entering the battlefield into an innocent lullaby for young ponies. Each race of pony had their own version of the lullaby, although only the pegasi knew its ominous point of birth. On nights when storms seemed to be tearing the world apart, parents would croon the words to their little ones and assure sweet dreams. Thunderlane had been the one to sing this to Rumble, a tradition that carried on through both clear skies and storms, until Rumble insisted he was too mature to enjoy lullabies. “Face your fleeting frights....” “Face your fleeting frights” was easier thought than carried out in the fog. One could not see whatever their fleeting frights were, therefore facing them was an impossibility. Thunderlane wouldn't have let this detour him in any way, but Rumble was bitterly aware that he was not his older brother. Departing the area with haste was more in sync with his personality. “Running away again?” The voice was Rumble's own, yet it had not come from his mouth. The fog was moving, but not in the way ordinary fog did. It was not writhing or drifting lazily through the heavy air. It was parting, akin to a door, as if the fog was a mere hologram projected onto a solid surface. Behind the door, his eyes burning an unnatural shade of deep emerald, was a light gray colt. “Always running, the little dweeb,” the other Rumble uttered scornfully. “If only the other ponies could see what a coward you are.” Rumble did not respond to this derogatory, yet factual, depiction of his true character. Shutting out the frantic pounding of his heart, he was willing himself to awaken. For this must be a dream, a dream from which he could escape with force of mind. If he could flee this place by his own power, he need never visit it again and he would soon forget its existence, as was the way of dreams. These things he chanted to himself, determined to find reality. He had never wanted the real world, however falsified his role in it was, with such urgency. “He runs from the truth. He runs from everything he's scared of. He runs from life inside of his own head. But the joke's on him: I'm the one pony he can't run from!” Trying to thrust himself out of the world of dreams wasn't working. Rumble had the sensation of falling deeper into his nightmare. The more he descended into the abyss that was his dreamscape, the harder it would be to crawl out of the horror it had created for him. Would his nightmare never let him go? “Why run at all, Rumble? There is a place for you, my brave little colt.” At this unfitting adjective, Rumble paused in his attempts to awaken himself. His eyes had been closed against the terror of his bad dream, but now he opened them to gaze at his other self. He noticed that the other Rumble had a more muscular, sophisticated appearance. His double carried himself with the type of preeminence and dignity that the real Rumble wished to adopt. He was the “new and improved” version Rumble had sometimes fantasized about while admiring his older brother. “Brave?” he echoed doubtfully. “You just said I run away from everything.” “You misunderstand. You run away now, but that is because you have not found the hero inside of you.” Hero? Rumble had never thought himself capable of being a “hero”. He might act the part in front of his comrades, but it took his own brand of heroism to pull off that elaborate farce. He would never be the kind of pegasus whom saved others from immense danger. “Oh, you can be, Rumble. You only need to follow somepony who can teach you.” “Who?” Rumble whispered, his mistrust weakening. “Wake and you shall know, my hero. Wake and you shall know many things.” “I am disappointed by this lack of progress!” “Patience. All will...” “You've said that every day for the past week! How much progress have we made? None!” “None? Shall I remind you...” “No, you shan't! I know what you're going to bring up!” “You speak of no progress....” “Are you suggesting that those pitiful fillies and colts are progress? They might be better than nothing, but not by much.” “We are closer.” “Three inches closer than yesterday! We've still got hundreds of feet to go. And should we even talk about keeping our heads down? Equestria is going to be banging on our door near the end of all of this and it will be much harder to keep up the act.” “It is all worth the effort and wait, my dear.” That was the vital truth that kept slipping from her mind. When it was all concluded, it would have been worth the struggle. And she could smile blamelessly until the end. PrologueI cannot properly describe how my transformation felt. Fire was raging inside my chest. The agony was cutting off my air supply, choking the very feeling from my limbs. I was not in the room anymore. I was outside of the room, outside of my own body, outside of the world. Through the smog that was my home, I could only see Tia's face. I could not speak or move within my haze and my pain. How can one move their lips when they are nothing? And for those many seconds, I felt as if I did not exist. Eventually, I returned. But everything had burned away by then. The happy memories, the admiration for my talented older sister, the smiles I saved for her alone. I was not an alicorn anymore. I was not a mare. I was not a pony. I was nothing except my rage, my animosity, my immature desire for vengeance against a foe who had meant me no harm. I was Nightmare Moon. I was a puppet of my own loathing. My return to myself was even more indescribable. My memories, my affection, my very soul was rushing back into me. It was excruciating, yet I relished it as one relishes sunlight after a storm. The wall that had formed between myself and my most barbaric thoughts shattered, leaving me a weakened shell of a pony that was once bitter loathing. The realization of what I had done, the malevolence of my intentions, nearly destroyed me. But what thrust me even closer to my destruction was the anguish of rebuilding the Princess of the Night. The agony of it nearly tore me apart in those horrible moments. I thought I would tear, break, fold, or simply vanish into the void. With effort I did not know I possessed, I forced the curse from my body and set about, in the space of mere seconds, putting myself back together. I had never felt as close to death as I did then. I was no longer Nightmare Moon. Yet I was no longer Princess Luna. I had rebuilt myself as something more than either of them. Author's Note Yes, this is a very short prologue. The actual chapters are much longer.
It Went AwryTwilight Sparkle was in her library, which was not strange. But she was not immersed in a book, which was unheard of. It was a little past midnight, known half-seriously as “the magic hour”. Many unicorns believed that magic was at its strongest at this time. Those practicing a difficult spell would often save their efforts for when Luna's light was suspended high in the sky. Corroborating evidence that magical ability increased during “the magic hour” was lacking, but the belief persisted even among older and more skilled unicorns. Twilight Sparkle herself was dubious of the rumored “magic hour”. Just for this particular night, she suspended her own skepticism. For the spell she was attempting, she required every bit of magical power at her disposal. Taking direction from several old legends, she had turned off all the lights in the library and illuminated the room with candles. She had also opened several spellbooks around her, another precaution advised by ancient stories told by unicornfolk. She was now sitting in this dimly-lit room with her eyes closed. She allowed the silence and calmness to fill her, taking her to a place of serenity within her own mind. She was channeling magic, more magic than she had ever channeled during even her most desperate and dangerous exploits. Without preamble, the quiet shattered into a thousand pieces. Startled, the purple alicorn opened her eyes. The disturbance was so abrupt and unexpected that she at first thought the world itself had exploded around her. Her gaze sweeping the immediate vicinity for the source, she half-expected to find a gaping hole where one of the walls had been. But instead of destruction, her eyes came to rest on a young dragon standing in the shadows. Spike's features were draped with shadows and barely visible in the darkness. He appeared to be holding a round item of some sort in his hands. When he spoke, it was with a voice that hinted he had swallowed something a few seconds previous. “Um...hi, Twi?” he uttered nervously. Concentration was out of the question for the time being. Twilight stood up, wearing the severe, motherly look she reserved for Spike. The effect was almost spoiled by the fact that her features could barely be seen in the meager light. Fortunately, the presence of a horn and wings, both outlined in the semi-blackness, boosted her air of power. She had noticed within days of receiving them that other ponies seemed to sense her enhanced authority before they even glimpsed the wings and horn. The lights sprang to life and the candles extinguished themselves. “Why are you awake at this time of night?” Twilight demanded sternly. With the regular lights illuminating the area, she noticed that the round object in his hands was a tub of ice cream. She deduced that he had vacated his bed for one of his late-night ice cream binges. She highly objected to this habit of his, but she had been doomed from the moment her number one assistant discovered he could melt the lock on the fridge. “Um...what are you doing awake?” Spike responded hastily. Twilight appeared to be on the verge of a lecture, but she swallowed her words. Normally she would have seized the ice cream tube, given him an austere talking-to, and dragged him back to bed by his ear. Fortunately for the young dragon, she was quite eager to talk about what she was doing. If all went as planned, she would be demonstrating something monumental to the other princesses. It was fitting that Spike would be the first to hear of it. “I'm practicing a new kind of teleportation spell,” she explained with the ghost of a proud smile. The young dragon was confused by her explanation. “But you can already teleport,” he reminded her. “It's one of the first spells you learned.” Twilight was rather touched that Spike remembered such a thing. He had been scarcely older than a newborn when she mastered that rare spell. She hadn't been aware that his memory went back that far. Rather than praise him on his excellent recollection skills, she rushed to further explain her actions. “Yes, Spike, but this is an entirely new kind of teleportation that no unicorn has ever mastered! Aren't you curious about what others worlds are like? Haven't you ever stared at the night sky and pondered on the infinite possibilities of other universes? If I can perfect this spell, I'll be able to travel freely through all of them!” If she expected immense awe, she was disappointed by her companion's reaction. Spike was silent, pondering what he had been told. While he was not experienced in spellcasting beyond what he had observed, he doubted that such a complicated spell was worth mastering or even attempting. The dangers of it seemed to far outweigh the rewards. He knew the threats that existed in their own universe, from the timberwolves to more powerful enemies such as Queen Chrysalis. If Twilight was able to freely walk between worlds, it was impossible to predict what enemies she would encounter and if she would be able to defeat them. Spike's fear of losing his mother/sister figure intensified as he imagined the horrors she could be forced into a confrontation with when she utilized this new spell of hers. Not to mention he was already being tormented by what would occur if the spell went wrong and she ended up trapped in an unfamiliar place with no means of escape. A worried Spike summed up his concerns with a single question. “Is that....a good idea?” Twilight was insulted that he would ask a query of that nature. Although it was egotistical of her, she prided herself on being accurate at least ninety percent of the time. If Princess Celestia, one of the most powerful beings in Equestria, trusted her with alicorn magic, it was obvious that she knew when using it was “a good idea”. “Yes, Spike, it is,” she replied haughtily. “Isn't it past your bedtime?” He resented being spoken to as if he were an average little child, but the sleepy dragon did not complain or protest. He ascended the stairs to the second floor, sparing his friend a perturbed glance over his shoulder. He wished to tell her that she was making a grave error by attempting this particular piece of magic, but he had no logical argument against anything she was doing. He only had worries that would most likely not stop her if she was determined. Spike suffered a sleepless night. It was the first of many. With Spike safely upstairs, Twilight returned to her mission. She turned off the lights, restored the illumination of the candles, and sat on the library floor again. She closed her eyes, attempting to block out everything that had annoyed her in the past ten minutes. Channeling her magic, she focused solely on that feeling of peace. She let the renewed silence, the renewed serenity, fill her once again. Moments passed. Hours, perhaps. Time was nothing to an alicorn in deep concentration. Her mind had lifted her outside of time and space. Twilight felt a tiny bubble, a minuscule sphere of warmth and light, expanding within her body. The magic inside of her was forcing itself into this sphere as it expanded. She felt it struggle, as if it was a living creature trying to burst through her stomach and chest. But she grasped it with her mind and compelled it to remain in its place. The warmth inside of her intensified as the sphere grew at an even hastier pace. It wanted to devour her from the inside, but she could not permit it to do so. With great effort that only the Element of Magic could summon, she tightened her grip on the spell. Her hooves, her ears, her horn, and her tail tingled with its power. As if a sudden breeze had entered the room, the candles extinguished once again In the darkness, Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes at last. A ripple of electricity darted through her body, driving a gasp of surprise from her mouth. And then, in a flash of light that briefly illuminated the room, Twilight Sparkle disappeared. The world was twisting and lurching. Twilight Sparkle was falling, then she was flying, then she was on solid ground, then she was standing on water, then she was sailing through a sky that felt like an ocean. These alterations happened with such speed that she felt as if she was being thrown through an endless cycle of worlds. She saw brief glimpses of sky, ocean, sand, and landscapes that seemed to be made of nothing. And throughout this her body twisted and lurched even worse than everything around her. It was not painful, but it was not pleasant. Finally, after minutes or hours, the world became still. The forever shifting backdrop settled into a shimmer of dark sapphire and pale ribbons of white. Pallid impressions of stars studded this unfamiliar place. It was an imitation of the night sky, except more beautiful than the night sky had ever been. Floating in this place, Twilight was reminded of the celestial plain she had visited when she became an alicorn. With a jolt, she recalled that her transformation had only occurred a month or two ago. Many things had happened in that relatively short time that made it seem that it had been a year ago. Is this another celestial plane? she wondered. Did I pass another test? The idea pleased her, but it did not seem likely. If she had indeed passed another one of Princess Celestia's concealed tests, what would happen to her? One couldn't progress higher than an alicorn. Perhaps she was going to grow another pair of wings and another horn? Twilight was thinking over that unpleasant idea when she heard voices. “Tia, come play with me!” “I'm working on a spell, Lulu. Play with those dolls I made you.” The voices sounded vaguely familiar to Twilight. Yet she could not attach them to any mare or stallion she had met in her life. For that matter, she was confused as to where they were coming from. Had she indeed teleported herself to a new universe inhabited by sentient beings? But when she glanced around, she saw only a blank landscape of shimmering colors and stars. “Big sister, must I eat this filth?” “Lulu, it's good for you. You'll never master your magic if you're still a weedy little thing when you're my age. Don't you want to become big and strong like me?” A sharp intake of breath from the purple alicorn. She could now identify the owners of the voices, although they sounded a bit younger. She had heard them many times before. If she was not mistaken, it was... “Princess Celestia?” she called hopefully. “Princess Luna?” No answer came back to her. Yet the disembodied voices of the sisters, younger than she had ever heard them in real life, rang out clearly. It was as if she was hearing echoes of them that had traveled over distant time frames. Then a thought, an impossible yet possible thought, sprouted in her mind. Is this Princess Luna's....mind? That would account for the gorgeous imitation of the night sky. It would explain the disembodied voices of the princesses. If this was Princess Luna's mind, the voices were simply reverberations of memories. Exchanges between Princess Luna and her sister “Tia” that she vaguely remembered from a time far in the past. But that's impossible! Twilight told herself, bemused. How can I be inside somepony's mind? Yet, as impossible as it was, all the pieces fit into place of their own accord. She could not explain how the spell had resulted in her being in this place, but she had no alternate explanation. Somehow, whether it was rational or not, she has accidentally teleported into the mind of the famed Princess of the Night. And she had no clue how to escape.
A New NightmareThe obvious solution was teleportation. A spell Twilight Sparkle had known for many years. She had been praised for mastering it as a mere filly when many older unicorns struggled with it. With her alicorn magic, a big leap should be even less of a problem for her. Alas, the obvious solution was the impossible one. For Twilight discovered within two minutes of trying that she was incapable of teleporting. She was incapable of even drawing the magic she would require for a mere levitation spell. For reasons beyond her comprehension, her magic had been rendered unusable. Adding to the fear this naturally caused, she had no idea when or if it would return to her. A terrified Twilight Sparkle reflected on her predicament. Her friends would notice her absence at once, as would the other princesses. Her parents would eventually be informed that their daughter, the newly-inagurated princess they looked at with pride in their eyes, had vanished. Spike, the only one she had confided in, would undoubtedly relate the story of the attempted spell to everypony. However, how would anypony find her? They would, if they were able to, seek her in other worlds. None of them would expect her to be in Princess Luna's mind. Less broad, but still troubling, fears forced themselves into Twilight's brain. Would she require food in such a place? Would she eventually die from starvation? If she died, what would happen to her body? Would it steadily decay as was normal? Would it turn to dust and be scattered, akin to the stars, across this landscape? Or would she be blessed with immortality that came with the price of everything? Lack of knowledge was one of Twilight Sparkle's biggest fears. To be trapped in a place in which answers were impossible to grasp and her intellect could do nothing for her was a terror beyond her worst nightmares. Twilight did not notice the “thing” that had joined her for many moments. It concealed itself expertly inside the backdrop of stars and sky, as if it belonged there. A remnant of a previous night sky pressed stealthily against the current one, its ethereal form practically invisible. But when it moved, this disguise was abruptly, and perhaps intentionally, cast aside. It shifted and flowed like some sort of dark liquid, its own stars shining against its transparent skin. The purple alicorn regarded it with mistrust, her gaze marking its lazy progress across the lunar plain. She could not identify it as more than an indistinct “thing”, yet she felt certain that she had seen it before. Something about its sinuous form brought forth a certain recollection, but the memory was too blurry to be read. The thing spoke, although it had no mouth to do so. Its voice slunk across the landscape akin to a serpent, a dry whisper that resembled ancient pages scraping against one another. It sounded tired, as if it had been speaking for a millennium without rest. “Luna.......Luna....... My sweetest, my dearest, the most beloved of the princesses. Why did you lock me away? Why did you leave me in this place? Oh dear, sweet Luna, my vessel of the night...” A chill of horror skittered across Twilight's spine. The very essence of the voice seemed to be creeping across her body. “It is so cold in here, my dearest Luna. I need the light. I need the sun. Please, my sweetest...” Twilight Sparkle wanted to distance herself from the thing as it approached, but she could not move. Her body was frozen and helpless, only her eyes able to follow the thing's inevitable progress. She knew, as if she had seen it written somewhere, that it had been wandering aimlessly in this empty place for many a year, but now it had become a creature of purpose. And its purpose was one she could not allow. “Warmth. Magic. Yes.....magic.......” The last word was entangled within a moan of sheer pleasure. It had sensed her, a living being trapped and vulnerable within this place. It had no limbs to feel and no eyes to see, but it was being pulled toward the only other inhabitant of this lunar plain. The magic, the power, was reeling it toward the unexpected vessel that had appeared inside its prison. A throbbing sensation spread through Twilight's horn. This was followed by a warm feeling, the type of feeling that normally accompanied the casting of a spell. Yet it felt detached from her body, as if another had tapped into the magic that eluded her in this place. Her magic had begun working separate from her will. A wall, a solid yet transparent wall of soft lavender, expanded to obstruct the thing's path. The thing was sucked toward this barrier, its liquid form sinking into it as if the wall was constructed from purple gelatin. It could not advance past this abrupt obstacle. It pressed itself deeper into the barrier, but it did not yield. On the contrary, it appeared to be leaking into the patch of detached night sky. And the creature was absorbing it as a cloth absorbs liquid, unable to resist the barrier's influence. Twilight's horn was glowing white hot, the intense heat threatening to singe her mane. Her magic was struggling to block this outside penetration from reaching its objective. The strain felt as if it was aging her body a hundred days for every second. She no longer cared how improbable the situation was. She only cared that this thing, this creature, be barred from entering her. The thing had begun expanding as it fought against the barricade. It was no longer passively allowing itself to be absorbed by the magical protection standing between it and its prey. Its stars shone brighter than before in its counterattack. It was pushing, struggling with every ounce of power it had against the obstruction. With every bit of effort it sank a little deeper into the barrier, but it did not emerge from the other side. A tongue of purple flame blossomed from the end of Twilight's horn. The flame twisted in the air for a moment as if tasting it. Then, flowing as effortlessly as a serpent, it rushed to push against the other side of the wall. The moment it touched the wall, lavender fire began to lick at the edges of it. This caused the determined invader to falter, glimmering faintly at the added attack. But with a burst of its own power, it sent a a shimmering tail of bright stars directly through the barrier and toward the alicorn on the other side. A cry of alarm leapt halfway from Twilight's throat, but it did not surface. The magic pulsating in her horn seemed to have prevented her vocal cords from functioning properly. The most that emerged from her mouth was a dull squeak of horror that was barely audible even in the silence. With obvious vehemence, the purple flame sped toward the approaching comet-shaped projectile and halted its progress before it could reach the alicorn. In a motion too quick for Twilight's eyes to perceive, the beam twisted itself around the tail of luminous stars. The two struggled, each attempting to absorb the other, but neither would surrender to their adversary. They resembled two snakes intertwined and battling in the air. Meanwhile, a spiderweb of cracks had appeared in the barrier. The invader's efforts were paying off, the protection steadily weakening against its immense power. “Nightmares cannot die. They can only become stronger.” Many things happened in the exact same moment. Twilight's horn gave a feeble flicker and extinguished itself, too exhausted to offer anymore resistance. The barrier shattered like glass, its remains evaporating into thin air. The battling snakes melted into the world around them, dissolving into nothingness that could help nopony. Triumphant, the thing rushed towards its prey too quickly to be stopped. Helpless, Twilight could only stand there as it washed over her. She felt it sinking into her body, as cold as the night. She felt as if a nonexistent hoof, borne from ice and hatred, had penetrated her chest. A frigid blackness was taking over the magic that flowed in her veins, corrupting the purity left there by her Element. She was powerless to resist the dominance as it slowly consumed everything inside of her. She had seen the thing before. But the memory had been imperceptible against a backdrop of startling events. She had glimpsed it many times out of the corner of her eye, without registering its presence with more than her subconscious notebook. In fact, she had seen it at a much closer range as it morphed into a dark and sinister mare. A whisper drifted into Twilight's ear. The voice was light and hoarse with pleasure. “At last...” A shriek erupted from Princess Luna's throat as she awakened. She sat up in bed, flinging the covers from her as she did so. She had never been yanked from slumber with such a terrifying jolt before, even at times when she sensed her sister's nightmares. Her entire body had just convulsed as if in extraordinary agony and perspiration had broken out over her entire body. Was she still in a nightmare? The fear, the immense feeling of danger and impending chaos.... However, these were all momentary troubles. The moment she realized that she was safely in her bedroom, these evaporated as quickly as they had sprouted. The fear slunk away into the deepest depths of her mind, as if often did proceeding any type of dream. She was safe in the real world. “At last....” The soft, sinister echo from the dream world gave Luna pause. But she could not attach an image or even a mere emotion to the words. She only knew that they had sparked a type of unease she had become a stranger to over her years of fighting back monsters that stalked the night. The Princess of the Night lay back against her pillow, scowling at the painted night sky upon the ceiling. She was sure she had been having a nightmare.
Good Dreams and Bad Dreams“Scootaloo.......sweet child of noble pegasi......” The voice was cold, yet welcoming. It flowed tenderly into the filly's ear, practically caressing the interior of it. Scootaloo halted, but only for the slightest moment. Cheerilee had warned them to avoid the horrors that lurked behind disembodied voices. She had explained, in vivid detail that spawned a formidable number of bad dreams, that spirits and such were not to be trusted. She weaved intricate tales to the young ponies of travelers lost, killed, or driven to madness by the instructions and tricks of those they could not see. “Do not fear, Scootaloo. You are among your equals.” It was broad daylight. Surely this was not a time for a voice from nowhere to be pursuing Scootaloo as she returned to her house. Oddly, there was nopony around to aid the unfortunate filly, despite it being in the middle of the afternoon. She wondered about this strangeness, but she was more concerned with distancing herself from the source of the disembodied pleas. She increased her speed, her inefficient wings vibrating in an effort to help. "What is wrong, Scootaloo? Do you think they are your equals?" A cruel, high-pitched laugh that resembled that of Sweetie Belle caused Scootaloo to pause in her escape. “Sweetie? Is this some kind of weird joke?” The response was another malevolent laugh, this time bearing resemblance to the country drawl of Apple Bloom. But it only resembled Apple Bloom's laugh, for Apple Bloom's had never held such frosty antipathy. The darkness etched around it chilled Scootaloo even more than the mysterious voice that somehow knew her identity. “No one is equal to you, Scootaloo. They laugh behind your back. They shake their heads and smile at poor flightless Scootaloo. Their love for you is from pity, not affection.” Rainbow Dash's face, stern and unrelenting, swung at Scootaloo from the corner of her brain. “Don't listen, squirt! T--” A flick of magic resonated through the air, strong enough to be physical. This single flick silenced the wise words of Rainbow Dash, snuffing out the hint of her encouraging presence. With this jab of magic, Scootaloo was utterly alone in this vacant town. Alone to face a creature she could not see, touch, or fight. “I can give you love, Scootaloo. I can give you purpose. You will serve all of Equestria in ways that nopony ever has. Don't you want to be useful, Scootaloo?” Useful. Scootaloo allowed the word to unlock a door in her heart. A door she had barricaded behind memories of a rainbow-maned pegasus she admired with a passion. She thought of her parents, barely skilled in anything, yet working tirelessly at jobs that scarcely paid enough for their modest house. She rarely saw them, as they would sometimes work for days without returning to their home. Scootaloo had once believed that she could aid them, could be useful, by obtaining employment herself. But without functioning wings, she was not even suited to entertain drunken griffons as her parents did to earn a living. She could not properly prepare meals, she could not work, she could not even clean the house in a manner that satisfied even the most understanding of parents. She could not be useful. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to help Equestria.” “You shall, Scootaloo. You shall help Equestria.” The world around her had begun to shift, although she had not noticed. Now, with her words as a signal, it began to melt. The sky, the grass, the buildings, everything, began to run into each other akin to scenery on a wet canvas. Scootaloo did not seem surprised or curious about this unusual happening. She stared, a very strange smile on her features, as the dream dissolved around her. All that was left was an orange pegasus, gazing with blank eyes into the darkness of her bedroom. Alone. The word pounded in Sweetie Belle's skull like a second heartbeat. I'm completely alone. But why? She had been having such a lovely picnic with her older sibling. There had been no complaints, no bickering of any kind, and not the slightest hint of rush. A beautiful day, a serene, laughing Rarity, a repast comprised of foods they both adored. All had been flawless. Then Rarity had suggested that her little sister procure some flowers to complete the image of a perfect picnic lunch... Now the poor unicorn filly was alone in the forest. She could no longer hear the joyful humming of Rarity, nor, when she looked back, could she see her older sister's perfectly-styled mane. She had somehow wandered deeper into the forest than intended. However, she felt as if she had strode away from Rarity and into another realm entirely. I could be in here forever.... Sweetie Belle shivered, but attempted to lay a hoof on her courage. Logically, she should be able to follow the path and it would lead her to where she had begun. She would find herself in the clearing, where there was light, laughter, and protection. More to the point, it was foolish for her to be in such a state of terror. She had ventured into this very forest a few times previous, once or twice without any companionship. If she could be brave once, she could be brave as many times as she needed to be. But there was no path underneath Sweetie Belle's hooves. When she turned, there was nothing to behold except the skeletons of long-dead trees looming menacingly before her as if prepared to attack. “Rarity!” The name burst from Sweetie Belle's mouth as her newfound bravery turned to dust. With only a small prompt, she had relapsed back into her previous state of dread. Her only comfort was that if she screamed, her sister was sure to come. That was the one thing she could count on, regardless of how many times they were at loggerheads. Rarity would always be at her side in moments if she shrieked with urgency in her voice. “RARITY!” Her heart nearly melted with happiness when the sound of approaching hooves met her ears. She waited, excited and relieved, as they became louder and louder. In less than a moment, she noted a familiar white and purple shape as it approached her, galloping quickly in her direction. The Rarity that appeared did not resemble the one from the picnic. The purple mane, once styled with the utmost care, hung limply across her head. Entangled within the lifeless locks were thick cobwebs and deceased beetles. Dripping from many of the strands was a dark red substance that seemed fresh. The eyes, normally aglow with the aftermath of another brilliant idea, were hollow and devoid of color. When the mouth parted, one could see two rows of maliciously pointed teeth coated with the same dark red liquid. “Ra-Rarity?” Sweetie Belle stammered uncertainly. The mouth parted. The voice that drifted from it was as dry as the wilting leaves of autumn. “Sweetie Belle, stop messing with my material. Sweetie Belle, you've tracked mud all over my inspiration room. Sweetie Belle, you ruined all of my hard work. Sweetie Belle, why don't you just go away and leave me alone?” The young unicorn felt her eyes burn with impending sobs. She knew this creature was not Rarity, that it only spoke words of false hatred to trick her. And yet, the anguish she felt was too intense for a mere illusion, as if her real older sister had spoken those disparaging things. Perhaps she had seen the words perched on the edge of Rarity's tongue on some occasion... “It's sad, isn't it? Such a clever little filly, shunned by her own sister....” The nightmare version of Rarity had vanished. Sweetie Belle was once again alone, but it was not the aloneness that scared her now. It was not even the voice from nowhere that was making her heart pound frantically against her chest. She was thinking of Rarity, of her parents, of....... “Your parents complain a lot, don't they? You always get in the way. And when they try to give you to Rarity so they can have some peace, you start getting in her way. It never ends, Sweetie Belle. You can only disrupt the adults and their work.” Sweetie Belle was always excited to stay with her big sister, even if it was a mere weekend. But she had always been aware, somewhere deep in the bowels of her mind, that her parents found her to be annoying. Her track record of being forcibly excused from family vacations and many other such events did not lie. “You're intelligent, Sweetie Belle. You have potential, you have magic, you have power that would rival your sister.” Power that would rival her sister, the brilliant designer who could do no wrong? Potential? Sweetie Belle had never heard such a word applied to her, even when being addressed by her optimistic teacher. Nopony had ever suggested, even in jest, that she had potential. Nopony had ever looked at Rarity's sister and seen anything more than that dismissive title. “Skill needs a place to blossom. Do you think it can blossom while you stand next to your sister, the holder of an Element of Harmony?” Sweetie Belle shook her head. She was too excited to trust her tongue at the moment. She could only think of all the things promised if her superior power really existed. If it was true, she was promised a role to rival Rarity's. She was promised the endless respect that had once gone to her older sibling. She was promised the admiration of her parents. She was promised a life unlike she had ever known before. “You will have that place, Sweetie Belle.” Rumble turned sharply in the fog. Had he heard hoofsteps? A single, shallow breath close to his ear? A stifled wail of despair from a pony wronged? Or, in the worst case scenario, all three to create one horrifying incident? Rumble despised fog. It was as if all the clouds in the sky had swarmed around him to blot out the beauty of the landscape. Without validation that the endless sky, the pride and desire of every pegasus, still existed above him, his feeling of vulnerability extended dangerously. He suspected that many pegasi must experience this at times when their view of the sky was obstructed for a long period of time, but it probed deeper into his emotions than those of the others. Many did not know it, but Rumble was not his older brother Thunderlane in miniature. He was not recklessly courageous or attractive to females. He was timid, chased by many fears, and easily frightened by the slightest noise. The image he projected to outsiders was only that: An image, produced for the satisfaction of those beholding it and not for any realism. In the fog, the realization that everything he showed to others was a fabrication caught up to him. This is why he hated fog more than anything else. “Fly from your fears...” An old nighttime song passed down from earlier generations of pegasi. The lyrics had been altered over the years, transitioning a grim chant of brave warriors entering the battlefield into an innocent lullaby for young ponies. Each race of pony had their own version of the lullaby, although only the pegasi knew its ominous point of birth. On nights when storms seemed to be tearing the world apart, parents would croon the words to their little ones and assure sweet dreams. Thunderlane had been the one to sing this to Rumble, a tradition that carried on through both clear skies and storms, until Rumble insisted he was too mature to enjoy lullabies. “Face your fleeting frights....” “Face your fleeting frights” was easier thought than carried out in the fog. One could not see whatever their fleeting frights were, therefore facing them was an impossibility. Thunderlane wouldn't have let this detour him in any way, but Rumble was bitterly aware that he was not his older brother. Departing the area with haste was more in sync with his personality. “Running away again?” The voice was Rumble's own, yet it had not come from his mouth. The fog was moving, but not in the way ordinary fog did. It was not writhing or drifting lazily through the heavy air. It was parting, akin to a door, as if the fog was a mere hologram projected onto a solid surface. Behind the door, his eyes burning an unnatural shade of deep emerald, was a light gray colt. “Always running, the little dweeb,” the other Rumble uttered scornfully. “If only the other ponies could see what a coward you are.” Rumble did not respond to this derogatory, yet factual, depiction of his true character. Shutting out the frantic pounding of his heart, he was willing himself to awaken. For this must be a dream, a dream from which he could escape with force of mind. If he could flee this place by his own power, he need never visit it again and he would soon forget its existence, as was the way of dreams. These things he chanted to himself, determined to find reality. He had never wanted the real world, however falsified his role in it was, with such urgency. “He runs from the truth. He runs from everything he's scared of. He runs from life inside of his own head. But the joke's on him: I'm the one pony he can't run from!” Trying to thrust himself out of the world of dreams wasn't working. Rumble had the sensation of falling deeper into his nightmare. The more he descended into the abyss that was his dreamscape, the harder it would be to crawl out of the horror it had created for him. Would his nightmare never let him go? “Why run at all, Rumble? There is a place for you, my brave little colt.” At this unfitting adjective, Rumble paused in his attempts to awaken himself. His eyes had been closed against the terror of his bad dream, but now he opened them to gaze at his other self. He noticed that the other Rumble had a more muscular, sophisticated appearance. His double carried himself with the type of preeminence and dignity that the real Rumble wished to adopt. He was the “new and improved” version Rumble had sometimes fantasized about while admiring his older brother. “Brave?” he echoed doubtfully. “You just said I run away from everything.” “You misunderstand. You run away now, but that is because you have not found the hero inside of you.” Hero? Rumble had never thought himself capable of being a “hero”. He might act the part in front of his comrades, but it took his own brand of heroism to pull off that elaborate farce. He would never be the kind of pegasus whom saved others from immense danger. “Oh, you can be, Rumble. You only need to follow somepony who can teach you.” “Who?” Rumble whispered, his mistrust weakening. “Wake and you shall know, my hero. Wake and you shall know many things.” “I am disappointed by this lack of progress!” “Patience. All will...” “You've said that every day for the past week! How much progress have we made? None!” “None? Shall I remind you...” “No, you shan't! I know what you're going to bring up!” “You speak of no progress....” “Are you suggesting that those pitiful fillies and colts are progress? They might be better than nothing, but not by much.” “We are closer.” “Three inches closer than yesterday! We've still got hundreds of feet to go. And should we even talk about keeping our heads down? Equestria is going to be banging on our door near the end of all of this and it will be much harder to keep up the act.” “It is all worth the effort and wait, my dear.” That was the vital truth that kept slipping from her mind. When it was all concluded, it would have been worth the struggle. And she could smile blamelessly until the end.
PrologueI cannot properly describe how my transformation felt. Fire was raging inside my chest. The agony was cutting off my air supply, choking the very feeling from my limbs. I was not in the room anymore. I was outside of the room, outside of my own body, outside of the world. Through the smog that was my home, I could only see Tia's face. I could not speak or move within my haze and my pain. How can one move their lips when they are nothing? And for those many seconds, I felt as if I did not exist. Eventually, I returned. But everything had burned away by then. The happy memories, the admiration for my talented older sister, the smiles I saved for her alone. I was not an alicorn anymore. I was not a mare. I was not a pony. I was nothing except my rage, my animosity, my immature desire for vengeance against a foe who had meant me no harm. I was Nightmare Moon. I was a puppet of my own loathing. My return to myself was even more indescribable. My memories, my affection, my very soul was rushing back into me. It was excruciating, yet I relished it as one relishes sunlight after a storm. The wall that had formed between myself and my most barbaric thoughts shattered, leaving me a weakened shell of a pony that was once bitter loathing. The realization of what I had done, the malevolence of my intentions, nearly destroyed me. But what thrust me even closer to my destruction was the anguish of rebuilding the Princess of the Night. The agony of it nearly tore me apart in those horrible moments. I thought I would tear, break, fold, or simply vanish into the void. With effort I did not know I possessed, I forced the curse from my body and set about, in the space of mere seconds, putting myself back together. I had never felt as close to death as I did then. I was no longer Nightmare Moon. Yet I was no longer Princess Luna. I had rebuilt myself as something more than either of them. Author's Note Yes, this is a very short prologue. The actual chapters are much longer.
