Author's Note
This story is based on my album "Fear of Dark". Go to my bandcamp page to listen.
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Fear of Dark
By Seventh Element
Twilight opens her eyes. Thunder rattles the windows of the room. Twilight laid in bed, awake, for the 6th day in a row. Rain slid down the castle walls, creating an atmosphere of soft, calm noise. She can't remember the last time she's been awake for this long. Today was the 500th anniversary of the Cutie Mark Crusader's courageous deaths. Twilight got out of bed, and stumbled through the darkness to look out the window. The blurry figure of a statue rested in the center of the Canterlot castle courtyard. A tribute to the 3 heroes, overshadowed by the figure of a friendly dragon. She closed her eyes, an echo is heard within her mind.
Twilight seldom leaves her room anymore, secluded and alienated from Celestia and Luna. After many years of being the princess of friendship, her interest in making bonds with mortals has faded. She's attended the birth and subsequent funerals of many, even dragons. Her heart is beaten and deflated. The confines of her mind is marred with a thick fog, obfuscating even the clearest of thoughts.
I
The storm intensifies, rain crashes against the window. A flicker of lightning stuns Twilight. A dark spiral begins to form in the princess’ psyche. Twilight's heart begins to race, her head starts to hurt. “I wasn't prepared for this.”...a thought that echoed in her mind, but a thought that couldn't escape her lips. Her brain is now burning, and the only thing that can dull the pain, is to run. Twilight sprints down the spiral staircase, bucks the doors, and runs past the guards into the rainy Canterlot night, seeking answers, and peace.
II
She regains control of her body a few hours later, the rain giving no mercy to the city. Twilight looks up at the hazy street lamps. Flowers of light bloom outwards from the core of the magic lanterns. She takes a few steps forward to a covered bus station so that she might get out of the rain for a few minutes. She shivers. The cold really gets to her these days. The centuries old brick roads glisten in the amber light, but broken bricks cause the rain to pool, creating several gaps that phase into the darkness. Twilight can see her reflection in a pool next to her hoof. The mare she sees is almost exactly as she was, but not at all who she is. Was this the “new life” that Celestia wanted for her? Twilight walks back to the castle, too drained to do much else.
III
She walks through the front double doors, dripping wet. Luna is standing nearby, and turns to meet Twilight. “You're back… Where have you been?” She says. Twilight stops, and stares at the ground. She shivers slightly, and coughs. Luna’s brow transitions from a look sternness to a look of care. Luna sighs softly, “Come, let me accompany you to your room.” They walk through the dark corridors, the soft tapping of the now weakened rain playing it’s final song for evening. They ascend, Twilight stumbling and coughing along the way. Finally, they reach Twilight’s quarters. Luna carries Twilight onto her bed, gently every step of the way. Though Twilight is on the edge of consciousness, her shivering became more violent as time passed. Luna got on the bed next to her and helped Twilight calm down, to eventual slumber.
IV
Luna awoke in Twilight’s dream. Her usual area of comfort was filled with a chilling air of uncertainty and a creeping feeling that something isn’t right about this dream. The environment was thick and blurry. There echoed many sounds, but none ever distinct. Luna saw Twilight in the distance, speaking to someone within the confines of a transparent dome. Who it was, was unclear. They spoke in phrases that were misplaced. The contents of the phrases, lost to the echo. Twilight then fell to the floor, crying and struggling to breath. In an instant, a flash of light and a deafening screech consumed the echo. Once again, Twilight stood and spoke to the figure again. This continued to happen for what seemed like hours. Luna typically observes nightmares and intervenes at the right time, but this one, was different. “Twilight!” Luna yells, only to have it reflected back hundreds of times. She begins to panic, she has not met a nightmare this powerful before. Luna calls upon some of the most powerful dream magic she can muster. An ancient arcane symbol glows in front of her, and pierces the veil that encapsulates Twilight. The dome crashes down, and Twilight screams, as if being born into the world once more. Luna comforts her using a familiar and warm lullaby that she has seen from a dream many years past.
V
A shadow is cast over Luna and Twilight. Luna is familiar with the form. She turns, and looks upon the source of the shadow. Nothing casts it. An echo lingers in the air, one from the distant past, informing Luna that this shadow is not of Twilight’s nightmare. The shadow takes form, into the dark shape of a jet black alicorn. Twilight, finally able to speak, mutters the word “Tantabus”. The shadow attacks Luna in full force. The Tantabus was not only reborn, but strengthened by the power surrounding Twilight’s Nightmare. Luna was able to fight her guilt once again. The power to forgive weakened it, but was not enough to kill it. Luna struggled against the shadow, and eventually defeats it. Her mind has been wounded, and the dream collapses. She flees Twilight’s room, to rest her mind.
VI
Twilight awoke to the sound of her door slamming. She sat up and shook her head, the fog temporarily lifted from her mind. It all came back to her, along with a flurry of tears: Spike, her friends, her subjects, all gone. Her suffering was the orchestra that filled her once sharp mind with noise. She reminisced, on how it was when she first lost them. She stood, magic flowing from her horn, teleported all the way to Ponyville. Her skull ached from the lack of magic use over the last century. She made her way to the graveyard, to see the final resting place of all of her friends. She remembered the spot as if it were a soldier’s post, needing to be guarded. Time has worn away the markings from the final resting place of her best friends. Moss seeps out of the cracks of these old graves, giving her a reminder: The world has moved on, but Twilight hasn’t. She wipes away the final tears, and teleports back to Canterlot.
VII
Twilight returned to her room, and began thinking on how to solve her problem. A flash of lightning illuminates the room, and she finally understands. The sorrow is a magical component of her soul, she must separate it from herself in order to live her life. She goes to Starswirl’s Annex of the Canterlot Royal Library, to find a way. The synapses reconnecting and illuminating Twilight’s brain only further propels her into the works of Starswirl. A soft gold glow emanates from a dusty tome. The aura disappears as soon as she takes it with her own magic. The scroll defines a spell to separate one’s soul in some way. Twilight returns to her room to test the spell. She whispers the characters off of the arcane tome, dissipating the dead language upon the moist air. This was no spell of Starswirl’s. Her eyes turned a pale green, and begin to billow a thin, wispy stream of purple and black smoke. All the lights flicker out, candles smothered, and the thick humid air thins and chills. The sound of the rain is sucked out of existence. All light is now gone, the room gone before her very eyes.
VII
Nothing. Endless blackness. Twilight opens her eyes. “Where am I?”. She feels sick and weary; it’s cold. Twilight casts a light spell to find her bearing, the orb is immediately forced above her. The purple light extends for a short distance, revealing nothing. A solid tone can be audibly heard from the darkness. Suddenly, Twilight detects movement all around her. She begins to panic, unable to see what is causing the commotion. A voice in the distance echoed “Magic will not last forever…”. Twilight isolates where it’s coming from, and stares intensely. A figure crawls out of the darkness. It’s Twilight, but...it’s all wrong. Her horn is crooked and slightly bent. A dark plume of smoke wafts out of her mouth when she exhales. Her mane is greying and brittle. Her coat is falling out, covered in sores. But nothing compares to the deep dark pits that make up her eye sockets. Twilight recoils at this horrible sight, distraught at the sight of her. The other Twilight mumbles a few things indistinctly as she continues to walk towards Twilight. “Are you okay?” Twilight asks, worried and afraid of this creature.
The creature dramatically shifts its posture into an aggressive stance, and begins to scream, but no sound can be heard. Her eyes begin to leak a smoky purple and black liquid onto the ground. This liquid attracts five formless creatures from the darkness. These creatures briefly form the shapes of ponies, but quickly shift back into the specters that they are. They charge at Twilight, before she has a chance to react. One strikes her, on impact Twilight’s mind is immediately drowned in fragments of a distant memory. Her emotions are pulled every which way in the blink of an eye. This is pure mental anguish for Twilight. The creatures continue to lay hand, hoof, and claw alike upon Twilight’s body. Each strike more mentally and emotionally taxing than the last. The other Twilight is still crying streams of ichor, the puddle almost reaching her normal counterpart. Twilight’s skull burns in pain, her eyes hot with an inconsolable amount of tears. Twilight screams out in defiance, she will not let her grief rule over her. Her horn glows a fiery red, and burns the specters out of existence. This catches the ichor on fire, as if it were oil. The fire spreads to the other Twilight, burning her alive. Just before collapsing, Twilight saw her mouth the words “Please don’t hate me…”
IX
The lights fade back on, Twilight is back in her room. The room was painted in a dull orange light. The sun was rising. Twilight was relieved that it was all over. Her weariness was one of hundreds of years of silent, inward torment. Twilight once again approaches her window, and opens it. The warmth of the sunlight gave Twilight a euphoric sense of calm. Her struggle was over. Her freedom, imminent. She steps up on the window ledge to breath in the heavy air, the songs of birds weaving in and out. A gust of wind flows through her mane. Twilight closes her eyes.
