A Tribute To Boredom And Stuff

*several hours later*

With all of his scarves finally under control, and having remembered most of their uses, Strike was ready to leave this dark, solitary prison.

"Lets do this."

You know I have a name right? I'm not just a voice in your head, even if you keep thinking of me as one. We decided on one a while ago.

"And that would be…?" Strike gathered his magical power, and picked a good explosive spell to blast the oppressive wall down. Beginning to charge it, the flames on his horn whirled faster, and started to release more light.

In a terrible wild west accent, the voice said, I’m Striking Shadows. See the resemblance? Because we’re THE SAME PERSON, and with a maniacal laugh, stopped talking.

Releasing the power in his horn, strike felt a slight drain on his magical power, and watched in dismay as a tiny pea-sized ball of white flame drifted slowly from his horn, towards the wall.

“Well, that sucked”, Strike mused out loud, “guess 300 years of sleep dulled my supposed pow-“

Strike was cut off by a gigantic explosion as the flame hit the wall, blowing the entire wall it was aimed at away, along with  most of the floor, ceiling, and the two closest walls. Strike frantically threw up a blockade of scarves, with a quick grab into the enchantments for strength, blast resistance and fire resistance, but was still launched back at the opposite wall, hitting it with enough force to bring stars to his eyes.

Well done. Shadows said sarcastically. I said you were more powerful with fire and enchantments than anyone else, but do you listen? No. Well done.

With a grimace, Strike heaved himself from the floor, wincing at the pain in his back. Quickly whipping the scarves back and forth to get rid of the embers, the unicorn limped towards the hole he had blasted, to see a dark night sky, with a slight luminance far to the west. The ground was covered in small bushes and gnarled, twisted trees groped towards the sky. A slight mist drifted through the air, lessening how far he could see.

We’re heading for the glow, Shadows said, but I’d recommend moving quickly. There are some… unsavoury things in this forest.

"Right," Strike replied.

Scarves started slithering out of the band around his neck, slowly forming a topless box. When the box was finished, more moved from the bottom, twisting together to make long legs. Strike hopped in his creation, and placed his forelegs on top, so he could see over. He ascertained his direction, and willed the legs into movement. He rose above the trees, the contraptions legs still on the ground, and moving slowly but surely towards his luminous destination.