The Cynic

The many long hours spent in physical training certainly paid off. Slipshod plowed through the Everfree Forest as fast as his long legs could carry him. A sick and twisted harbinger of darkness was chasing him with the ferocity of an emaciated wolf. And the creature was gaining on him. With all his might, Slipshod put forth a last ditch effort to make it to the edge of the forest, where creatures of the night don’t dare trespass. He saw the faint light of the moon just ahead of him. The trees were rapidly thinning out as he neared the edge. He could almost smell the grass of the field that lay before him. However, catastrophe struck as something sharp and jagged pierced his hind leg. Bleeding and in pain, he pushed forward. But he went crashing to the ground as his leg gave out. With his forelegs he began to drag himself to the edge. But it was too late; the spear in his leg had done him in. He could hear the beast behind him, slowly but confidently stepping towards its prey. Trying to escape was beyond hope at this point. With one leg severed and three more paralyzed with fear, there was no point in trying. He slowly turned around to gaze upon the creature that would soon end his existence. Before him stood a tall pale horse. His legs were clad in iron and a bronze helmet concealed his wicked countenance. With his mighty foreleg, the beast removed the helmet – exposing the living embodiment of fear: Appollyon Barcilleo. With hungry eyes, he looked down upon a scared and helpless child. Crying for help was for naught. Slipshod knew his fate and was powerless to stop it. He looked up at the destroyer gazing down upon him. The cruel smile and sinister look in his eyes spoke only of ill intent and unholy desires. With drool falling from his mouth, he began stepping towards his prize, ever so slowly.

“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” exclaimed a mortified Slipshod as he fell from his bed face first. It all was a dream. Just a dream. Just a vivid, frightening, memory-evoking dream. He picked himself up off the floor and looked out his bedroom window with the longing of a tired old prisoner in a cold dank cell. The moon shone brightly; its soft and welcoming light brought some sense of comfort and peace to his afflicted mind. Slipshod glanced over at the clock atop his nightstand. “Four o’clock already,” he muttered begrudgingly. “Might as well pack my things and get ready to go back to school. Physical training starts in two hours.”

Dreams are mysterious things. Sometimes they throw you into a world of adventure and excitement. Sometimes they are terrifying. Sometimes they catch a glimpse of things which have not yet come to be. And sometimes… sometimes they interpret reality. It’s a rare occurrence that dreams like these enter the mind. For many in the waking life have tried to interpret dreams. But few experience a dream that interprets waking life. But the rarest occasion of all is when the interpretive dream is observed by the interpreter of dreams. And it was this rare occurrence that would lead to the unfolding of Slipshod’s reality. Everything he ever knew would soon be challenged. But the challenger would not be a warrior or an enemy, but rather himself.

The collision to his bedroom floor definitely made a decent thud. His face could attest to that. It fortunately wasn’t enough to wake his dearly beloved father. But it was just loud enough to be heard by the observer of dreams herself.

Princess Luna had witnessed many a nightmare. But this one troubled her greatly. It was more than just a reflection of a troubled past – but a glimpse into the future as well. Luna flew from her tower and ran through the halls to the bed chamber of Princess Celestia. “Sister,” she exclaimed worriedly, “I saw a dream. But it was not a usual dream. There is a shadow lurking within the midst of it.”

Celestia was already awake when Luna entered the chamber. Her uneasy expression shared a similar concern. “I felt it too Luna. Something powerful is at work.”

The Princess stepped out of her bed and walked over to her crystal ball. With her magic she activated its power and tried to observe that which caused a disturbance in the flow of fate. But as the image in the crystal became clear, Celestia’s countenance went from that of fear to pure bewilderment.

“What do you see within the shadow, Sister? It is it a magic user? Tirek? Could it possibly be Nightmare Moon herself?”

“No Luna. It’s none of those things. I see a young child of earth. He possesses no magic or special abilities. He is just a humble earth pony.”

Celestia gazed wonderingly into her crystal ball. “What makes you so different?” she muttered as she tightened her eyes and focused in. After a few minutes of observing this young colt, she saw a manifestation of things to come. She saw the lad standing before a crossroads leading in two completely different directions – but ending up in the same place: wealth and power.

Celestia continued observing this manifestation as she spoke: “I see a young colt with incredible drive and ambition; a bright future lay before him. But he is also very dangerous. He is tormented and conflicted, caught somewhere between wanting to destroy the world, and wanting to save it. There is no middle ground. He will rise to power someday, that I am sure of. But the path he chooses could bring forth prosperity, or leave behind it a path of destruction.”

“What does this mean for us, my dear sister?” Luna replied.

“It means one of two things: either help him, or destroy him.”