Author's Note

June 2024

What with the issue of trying to gain a job, I'd be lying if I said that I've been making attempts to finishing Final Filly Fantasy. Even if my statements of it running through my mind from time to time are truthful, it doesn't reinforce the hope as quick than its crumbling. I myself feel like I can't recapture the vibe I left it off on, but I just can't flip between priorities with my complete focus on things so easily.

Still, I do want to finish it, so I'm going to be submitting another portion of the story again for this month. There's spoilers, but I'd be surprised if you've been focused on the story long enough to care. You likely even forgotten about the theater play that Tempest starred in by now.

Now this does have 300 words... but screw the rules, I have ineligibility.

Etiolate

Leftover

Twilight glances at the floating castle from the guestroom's window, "While you were unconscious, Sol has been stalking the land and stealing everyone's magic. We can't figure out his method for tracking, but he's finding us with the use of self-made portals that connect straight to the castle. With no creature capable of flight, we've been trying to use air balloons to reach up there, but Sol's been striking them down with wind and lightning before we can get anywhere close to him."

Tempest looks past her necklace and down at the bedsheets she woke up under, recalling how helpless she was in Sol's aura and the melancholy feeling she felt as he casually tossed her off the fortress.

Drearily, Twilight sighs, "Hiding away in the clouds with powers that are far beyond anypony's understanding, aware of everyone's locations to halt us from approaching him, and only choosing to watch us wither away as we struggle to survive by resorting to drastic acts of sacrifice. It truly feels like were fighting against an omnipotent god under these circumstances. If anyone managed to avoid at getting their magic stolen that night, Sol has likely met up with them by now. He possesses everyone's magic up there, making hope feel like a bittersweet afterthought for everyone."

"...no, ...not all of it," a spark snaps from Tempest's horn, "Sol never managed to take away my magic."

The sight refracts off of Twilight in a renewed vigor, "That's, that's great news! If we have at least this much, then there might still be a chance to turn this around and get back everyone's magic."

"Right," Tempest scuffs tristfully at herself, "the last bit of magic that can stand up to fight for Equestria; belongs to a broken horned unicorn that can barely manage two spells."