Driving rain pounded the colors from the world, leaving Derpy to traverse a realm of grey and black smears. Her galloping hooves beat out a panicked rhythm in the muddy sand, but the unrelenting storm easily smothered all sound.
How long had she been running? Her burning muscles said too long, but their heat was all that kept the cold of the rain at bay. But soon that wouldn't be enough. Time was swiftly running out and when it did she would need shelter. Her eyes scanned the horizon, what little of it she could see. A black blur to her right made up the ocean while charcoal lumps to the left spoke of sand dunes. Not so much as a tree in sight.
Of all the directions to run, this had possibly been the worst. But that was just the latest in a long series of missteps that had led her down this dark path.
Then, cutting through the dark like a guardian angel's searching gaze, was a beam of light as bright as day. Shelter! Sanctuary from the storm! She adjusted her course, baring into the biting teeth of the wind and towards the source of the light.
How long ago had it been that this torment had started? Weeks? Months? The days had long since lost meaning. Yet she could still recall that night it had started in such vivid detail that it felt like only yesterday.
The stuffy and damp smell of her basement, perfused by unfamiliar scents of candle wax and smoldering herbs.
The steel of the knife as it drew a red line across her hoof, cold and biting.
Her lips, moving in unfamiliar ways, as they read from the book that greedily drank her blood as it dripped onto the pages.
The light of the circle, crimson and coruscating as it had started to glow to moment the last syllable was uttered and the last drop spilled.
And then... and then...
Derpy shook her head, her mane spraying water to either side but leaving her no drier. It was no good lingering on such thoughts. She could only move forward; ever forward and faster to try and outrun the mistake she'd made that night.
Sand turned to gravel beneath her hooves, which itself soon turned to slick stone. She slowed, careful of her footing.
With much less rain between herself and her destination, Derpy could finally put a name to the structure. It was a lighthouse. One that soared miles into the sky, where at the top the spinning beam made a lazy circumspection of the world. Both a beacon and a warning.
She reached the door; old wood worn to stone-like smoothness by years storms and salt and spray, and knocked.
Hearing no reply, she pulled at the heavy brass ring. It opened an inch, but the wind fought her, slamming it shut as though nature itself denied her entry. It took her full strength to wrestle it open just enough to slide through.
Her labored breathing slowed now that she was safe from at least one storm.
Derpy turned and took in a spartan sitting room. It contained the basic necessities of furniture, a fireplace with a stack of logs, and a hay-stuffed bed. No personal touches, yet just enough accommodations to help a stranger passing through.
She stumbled over to a cupboard as her sodden fur left a trail of water in her wake. The blankets inside offered a choice between threadbare and patchwork, but to her, they both felt finer than a comforter stuffed with princess down.
Once she'd toweled off enough water that she no longer left a trail, she made her way to the fireplace. Finding the tinderbox easily enough, she set to striking flint.
Once. Twice. On the third time she succeeded and a few sparks landed on the pile of twigs and brush. She blew gently, like a mother cooling her foal's spoonful of soup, and the fire responded to her ministrations. It surged and grew, climbing quickly up the dry wood. In no time at all the hearth was full of crackling flame and Derpy felt a little warmth seep back into her body.
As she sat back and let the waves of heat wash over her, a thin, cold line tugged at her neck. She lifted the chain, checking the familiar weight at the end.
Five forty-five, the silver pocketwatch said. Only fifteen minutes more.
"Not long left now..." she murmured.
It always came at six. No matter where she was or what she was doing, at six o'clock sharp her nightly visitor would arrive.
With the room better lit by the roaring flames, she noticed a door previously hidden in the cupboard's shadow. Checking it, she found it let to a pantry filled with preserved and hard-to-spoil food. Also, spirits. The labels were strange and unfamiliar, but there was no mistaking the row of alcohol on the bottom shelf. Relief for weary travelers or thanks left by former occupants, there was no way to tell, but Derpy didn't care. Some liquid courage was just what she'd be needing tonight.
She grabbed a bottle at random --one of green glass with a stylized face molded into the front-- and worked through the cork and wax seal with her teeth. It came out with a pop! and she caught a whiff of the contents. It smelled foul, but it was strong. Just what the doctor ordered.
She raised the odd green bottle to her lips and let the tincture flow. The alcohol stung as it seeped into the cracks of her chapped lips, but she winced through the pain and continued drinking.
Derpy grabbed a dry blanket as she stumbled back to the fireside. Her legs finally gave out as she arrived, collapsing beneath her like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
That silver hands of the pocketwatch ticked down.
Ten minutes.
Derpy stared into the flames, looking but not seeing. Her mind fled back to the night, however long ago it had been, when she'd formed a contract that had cost far, far more than she'd expected.
It was supposed to be simple. That's what the book had said. And it had been; far too simple. A few circles, some herbs, and a little blood. That was the promised fee for her to finally find love. But instead of summoning the perfect stallion, she'd received... that monster.
That witch, beast, demon from the darkest pits of Tartarus.
The wind outside rattled against the lighthouse walls and Derpy moved closer to the fire. The creaks and groans of the old wood sounded strange and ominous; unearthly portents of things to come.
It hadn't been terrible at first. The demon was polite, friendly, even. But she was insistent. So doggedly focused on her goal and completely unresponsive to Derpy's attempts to dispel her. And when she finally did leave, she came back the next night with more offers just as dedicated.
At first it was just an annoyance. But as the days went on the annoyance turned into a hindrance, and a hindrance became a menace.
"And now I run," Derpy said as she spilled her inner thoughts to the fire. "Every day, every night. But no matter how far I go, no matter where I hide, every night she shows up without fail. She cannot be reasoned with, she cannot be bought. I can only stave her off, night after night, till one of us finally breaks.”
She took another pull from the bottle.
The pocketwatch ticked.
Five minutes.
As the time approached and the familiar darkness of despair began to settle into Derpy's heart, it encountered something unexpected. A resistance to her mental surrender. A slowly bubbling confidence borne of desperation and whiskey.
Why should this night be like all the rest? She could make a stand and finally bring this nightmare to an end! The alcohol coated her fears and worries, gilding them with a varnish of courage and solidarity. It reminded her that she did still have one last weapon in her arsenal, though it was a double-edged sword if ever there was one.
Filled with determination, Derpy centered her thoughts and prepared herself for the coming fight.
Silence reigned in the lighthouse, save for the crackling of the logs and the roar of the storm outside. A small portion of Derpy's brain that was still rational wondered if half a nation and a hurricane would finally be enough of an obstacle to deter her pursuer.
The pocketwatch continued to tick along as the second hand rounded the final bend.
Five seconds.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The monster's entrance was not subtle.
First Derpy was alone, and then with a flash of light and an eardrum-shattering boom that put the thunder to shame, she was not.
It manifested itself squarely in the center of the room, knocking the furniture aside with its arrival. It towered over her with wings larger than any pegasus' and a nightmarishly toothy smile.
Yielding no time for Derpy collect her bearings and recover, the monster approached her, whipped around its serpentine, cusk-eel neck and said:
"Hello again, Derpy. Sorry about the noise. Weather threw off my spell. Shall we get started?"
Derpy hissed and jumped back, landing behind a defensive couch with cat-like grace. "No! Begone, foul fiend, and take your wretched charge with you!"
The pink alicorn tutted like a disapproving preschool teacher. "Now Derpy, that's no way to make a first impression. And I think I've found a rather nice one today. Say hello!"
She lifted a wing, revealing a shaking stallion underneath. He was about Derpy's age, with a navy blue coat, a mane like dying embers, and a horn that could skewer a grapefruit. All in all, not a bad-looking stallion. But his eyes betrayed the same panic and confusion that they’d all had.
Derpy fixed the princess with the firmest glare her drifting and tipsy eyes could manage. "Would you stop kidnapping ponies and just leave me ALONE! I tell you every night, I don't want you to find me a coltfriend anymore!"
Cadance tittered behind a hoof, seemingly bemused by her anger. "Of course you do! Otherwise you wouldn't have cast that spell and summoned my help. Besides, I'm sure this one will be a perfect match!" She pushed her companion forward as he eyed the room warily.
“Was ist los? Wo ist dieser Ort?” The stallion's voice was smooth yet his language indecipherable. “Wer bist du Ponys?! Ich verlange zu wissen, wo der Vater ist!”
Derpy could only stare at him, gobsmacked. Out of all the colts and stallions that this maniac princess had captured, kidnapped, and presented to her, this had to be a new low. "He doesn't even speak Equish!"
"Well, I'll admit the local bachelor pool has started to run dry," she said, "So I've had to expand my search. But you can work around that! Imagine all the bonding time you could have as you teach him Equish! Slowly coming to understand one another, growing closer as you develop pidgin phrases that only the two of you understand. It'd be so romantic!"
"No!" Derpy insisted, her anger stoked by months of being paradoxically both stalked and ignored. "I don't care how romantic it would be, I want this to stop!"
"Aw, but look at what a cute couple you'd make!" Before Derpy could react, the pink Demon of Shipping fired a blast of magic that hit her square in the face.
Blinded and confused, she felt something tight constrict her chest as something warm was shoved into her side. When her vision cleared, she found herself staring into her own eyes. Or rather, the eyes of her duplicate.
The pony before Derpy looked very much like her, except rather than looking like a half-drowned cat, she looked like a character from a fairy tale. She wore a long aproned dress of white and spring greens with ribbons crisscrossing the chest and adorably capped sleeves. Her coat was brushed and cleaned, and her mane done up in a pair of curling braids. Pressed against her side was the mystery stallion, equally dressed-up in an unusual ensemble of short pants, suspenders, and a pointed hat. Flower petals and small singing birds filled the air behind them.
The only faults in the vision were the ever-present look of shock and panic on the stallion's face and the frustrated glare on her own.
"Warum bin ich angezogen wie die Kinderfotos meines Großvaters?!"
Derpy's eye twitched and one of the bubbles in her cutie mark popped.
Enough was enough.
With a mighty heave, she flexed her wings hard enough to burst their way out of the dress, tearing the whole thing to shreds. She turned on her heel and, with a powerful buck, shattered the mirror into silvery splinters.
The illusory birds and flowers vanished as the spell broke. "Well that's just plain rude."
Derpy breathed heavily as she rounded on her much more powerful foe. There was only one way left she could see to end this; a powermove that might finally free her from this nightly torment but would also cripple her chances of getting a date ever again. But she knew it was a sacrifice she would have to make for the good of both her own sanity and also all the poor stallions that that demonic princess had shanghaied into her machinations.
"I don't want a coltfriend because... because..." Derpy took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and engaged the nuclear option. "Because I like mares!!!"
The lighthouse fell silent.
Even the storm seemed to die down a little as several long and painful seconds passed. Finally, the princes spoke.
"Oh. Is that so?"
"Yes," Derpy sighed in relief. The princess seemed to have bought her lie. Was it finally over? Had she broken the curse? Could she at last return to a normal life uninterrupted by this menacing matchmaker?
And then the shebeast smiled.
"No wonder we weren't finding a match! You know, I was just about to give up on you as my first lost cause. I'll go rerun my numbers and then we can start over with the locals in Ponyville, okay honey?"
No...
"Oh! We can start with my sister-in-law, Twilight! I could see the two of you clicking quite well. I've been trying to get her paired up for years now but she always turns down my offers of help for some reason."
"No..." Derpy breathed, her voice lost to shock.
The princess vanished the shards of mirror and turned with a genial smile. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Six o'clock sharp, same as always."
"No!" Derpy cried just as the pink princess vanished in a puff of smoke. The pegasus fell to her knees and prostrated herself towards the sky.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
...
...
...
“Hallo? Prinzessin Luna? Ich möchte jetzt bitte aufwachen. Dieser Traum ist zu viel für mich.”
