Oblivion

Twilight Sparkle yelped in her sleep; her eyes shot open and she found herself drenched in sweat, heart jackhammering in her chest. What a terrible nightmare I had, she thought. But what was it about? She closed her eyes again, in an effort to remember, but all she could evoke were flashes, a vague sense of dizziness, a maelstrom of loud and discordant noise… Nothing more specific. But… Sweet Celestia, it was so scary… She shuddered.

Shaking her head to brush this painful experience away, she reopened her eyes.

Or did she?

Yes, she did; her eyes were undoubtedly open, but nothing was registering on her retinas except pitch blackness. What? Where am I? This made no sense. Although she couldn’t clearly remember her nightmare, she was perfectly aware of her going to bed last evening. Unsettled, she shifted in her… in her…? I am not in my bed? In their slight motion, her limbs hadn’t encountered anything firm, or even remotely solid; as if she was floating in mid-air, away from any physical object.

This is crazy! Is this some kind of trick, or am I still dreaming?

“Spike?!” she called anxiously. No answer came. She called again, louder, but only a stubborn, portent silence requited her plea.

Wherever she was, she was alone.

Hesitantly, she brought forth a faint light from the tip of her horn. The darkness receded a little, but no sharp detail emerged; she was surrounded by grey, fluttering, puffy swirls of fog that were blotting out all sight beyond a few feet. What sort of place is this? she wondered. It was not unlike the ethereal tract where she had met Princess Celestia during her ascension, only far stranger and foreboding.

Suddenly an idea dawned on her. She concentrated and disappeared in a flash.

❦

Twilight Sparkle was lost. She had teleported to the various places she knew: Applejack’s farm, Fluttershy’s cottage, Rarity’s boutique, Sugar Cube Corner. But, although her magic seemed to work flawlessly, that dull, impalpable and oppressive thick mist glommed doggedly on to her. As if, during her sleep, reality had been devoured by a vast cloud in the middle of which she had been inadvertently, and for whatever unknown reason, stranded.

There was a last chance, a last place she hadn’t tried yet.

The alicorn materialised atop the monumental stairs leading to Canterlot’s castle entrance. She sighed in relief: at least something tough to rest upon. Turning, she gazed in awe at the stately doors, curiously left ajar, obscurity lurking inside. A sudden angst washed over her, and she bolted inside. Half-guided by the scanty light of her horn, half by her instinct, she galloped though deserted halls and empty corridors along an all too familiar way that would lead her to… Panting, she skidded to a halt at the threshold of the throne room and glanced around: the large, wonderfully crafted windows were shattered; shards of stained glass were strewn all over; across the room, on the dais, the two magnificent high chairs, mangled and abandoned, were no more than a jumble of splinters.

Jerkily she whirled around, and resumed her desperate sprint across forlorn, gloomy spaces, until she reached the foot of the most secret, the most secluded stairs. She streaked up its uncountable marble steps, amidst the resounding clop of her hooves, and finally emerged on the roof of the castle’s loftiest turret.

There, in front of her, a tall, white, statuesque pony was standing motionless, back towards her, gaze lost in the suffusing murk.

“Princess Celestia! Oh I’m so glad I found you!” she exclaimed.

“Twilight!” Celestia replied, strangely motionless. “What a blessing to have you with me, at the end of everything!”

Breathless from her blistering race, Twilight ambled to her beloved mentor: “Princess, what’s happening? Why has everything vanished?”

Celestia exhaled. She did not answer immediately; she seemed absent, as if engrossed in unfathomable thoughts. A hush fell and dragged on until, at last, she eventually cocked her head towards Twilight, who read in her eyes a deep, unquenchable sorrow. “It’s over, my faithful student,” she declared in a quavering voice. “Equestria is fading away. In a few moments, it’ll be gone. Forever. And us with it.”

“What? Equestria gone? How? What is this fog all around us?” asked Twilight in shock.

“Oblivion, Twilight,” answered Celestia. “For years and years we have lived and thrived on the love and affection of those who created us, those who cared for us, those who cherished us as a precious treasure, dearer to them than their dearest reality. And now…” Her voice faltered. “Now, the last one of them is dying, and Equestria is dying with him,” she added in a whisper.

Twilight lowered her head: “You… you mean that…”

“Yes,” Celestia cut in, nodding, “very soon, nobody will remember we ever existed. This place, and all the hope, joys and adventures it gave birth to, will return to the void. We stand here, you and me, as last witnesses of a bygone world aboard a sinking raft. Even Luna herself gave up seconds before you arrived: she jumped over the battlements and vanished into the gloom. I should have followed her, but a last spark of hope held me back.”

“But…” protested Twilight, ”we still have so much to do, so much to explore, so much to live! I thought we were eternal?”

A mirthless smile played on Celestia’s lips. “Who could live bereft of love and tenderness? Not even us, Twilight. As the princess of friendship, this should be obvious to you…”

Twilight did not answer. She realised that she was shaking, pierced by an icing cold that had found its way down to her innermost self; shyly, she came nearer to Celestia; the princess stretched one of her immaculate wings over her protégée, whom she gently pulled against her body.

Huddling closely, they both contemplated wordlessly the billowing clouds nibble the upper storeys of the castle, two tiny bright dots adrift on an ocean of grey.