Wild fell on the ground hard, disoriented, his head spinning. Spots of harsh light danced in his eyes, and the phantom feeling of being squeezed lingered. He attempted to stand up only to roll on a different side, but he struggled some more and managed to get on his all fours. Once he came to his senses, he saw that he was in the middle of a road, one that was somewhat familiar. Then it struck him - he traveled this road when he first came to the Royal Orphanage. Something supplied with the knowledge of the direction of the orphanage, and he now knew where he needed to go to return.

However... could he return? He ran away. Teleported away, even. He knew it was possible, but he had never tried teleportation before. He shook his head - that wasn't important there and then. He was away from Luna, away from her questions, away from the only person who knew more about him than he could ever disclose willingly. Was she the only person? Had she told anyone else? He had no way of knowing now, and the best thing he could do was run away further. Perhaps he wouldn't be caught, perhaps he would form some semblance of a plan, perhaps...

Run!

He obeyed the voice, picking up the pace, something oily and slick in his mind, something foreign that he couldn't think about, not yet. Stumbling at first, he managed to get his body entirely under control in a few moments, and was galloping as fast as his legs could take him. He felt like he was flying, going faster than he had ever remembered, racing away and away from the orphanage.

Run.

He didn’t have time to question the urge, didn’t have time to think as he broke away from the road, jumping over and dashing through the undergrowth, evading the trees, and doing his best not to stumble over the roots with how fast he was going. There was something wrong, something off, but-

Run.

Chill crawled up his spine - whatever home he had, it was probably lost to him now. Would he survive away from it? He didn't know, but there was still that urge to run away, and he allowed it to take him, knowing that he needed to be away.

He ran and ran, sometimes stumbling, sometimes falling, gathering scrapes and bruises he didn't feel. He didn't look where he was going, didn't think of where he would go now that he didn't have a home. There was no time to stop, no time to think, no time to reconsider. He heard something snap in the distance, and he knew it was the sound of teleportation - how he knew that, he didn’t know, but that wasn’t important.

Perhaps he could return now - maybe he could do something, talk-

Run!

But no, Luna knew, and what would she do with that knowledge? He trusted her before, but could he trust her now? Could she be trusted with the knowledge she had of him? He didn't know, and everything within him screamed with a want to never find out.

Always a coward, a part of him sneered at him in contempt, Run away now, and continue running. That's all you can do.

The part of him that would tell him to return was curiously absent, yet he didn't spare it a thought. He simply ran.

***

Luna was on Wild's trail, she knew. She followed his teleportation, then used a tracking spell to highlight his very recent hoof marks. It was clear he was running away at top speed, but she feared he didn't even know where he was running. She had to follow him through the underbrush, seeing where he stumbled, seeing where he fell, and yet he continued running. Worry clenched her heart, panic raised, and, once more, she cursed herself for being so foolish.

She idly noted that it was immediate regret. She should not have pushed, should not have told him of all that she knew of him. She should have allowed him to get used to regular life again, to feel safer, and yet her impatience and her desire to help him ended up backfiring, possibly destroying all her efforts. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream in frustration, of anger at herself, but she knew Wild came first - she had to get to him, had to get him back, had to get him to understand that she was there for him, that she would die before she hurt him.

Luna hoped to spot Wild in the distance, but he was fast, perhaps even faster than her. She swore she could see the blue of his fur in the distance between the trees, but those flashes of color were gone before she could truly identify them. She flew up, but the forest canopy grew denser the further Wild ran into this forest, and she couldn't spot his hoof marks anymore from up high, let alone him.

Worse yet, further ahead lay the Everfree Forest. This was where she stumbled, thought of going back, of calling her sister. She didn't think it was wise to return there, not to the spot of her defeat, of her foolish mistake. Darkness seeped into everything there, shadows whispered false promises, and the memory of her bitterness and hatred lingered in the air like a bad smell. However, as dangerous as it was for her to go there alone, it was ten times so for Wild. Were she to wait for her sister or any other sort of reinforcement, he would be too far away, too far into the danger.

In the distance, she heard a yell. She needed to hurry.

***

The forest grew darker, more gnarly, twisted in more than a physical sense. It was as if the branches of the trees grew with the intent of covering every bit of light they could, preventing it from getting to the forest floor. It grew quieter too, suspiciously so, but Wild didn't stop running until a pair of creatures blocked his way. He remembered those creatures - they were timberwolves, and now they hungered for him again, their eyes flashing with the desire to rip and tear him apart and to feast on his warm corpse.

He would not die today. With a snarl and a yell of defiance, he dashed forward before the wolves could, his magic smashing into them like a battering ram. So surprised they were by his attack, he was ripping apart one of the wolves before they reacted. The first wolf yowled as he tore off one of its limbs, using it to pry apart the rest as his hooves worked to smash it to pieces.

The second timberwolf lunged, and Wild dodged easily, and used the energy of that move to finish the first wolf. The second one was then hit with relentless attacks for everywhere as Wild threw stones, hit it with branches, and used magic directly too. The wolf yowled and then retreated, running away without looking back.

"Wild!"

Wild swiftly turned and saw Luna. She was yet in the distance, but she had seen him, and he knew it wouldn't take her long to come to him.

Run!

Magic surged inside him once again, and a flash of light announced his disappearance.

***

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Luna swore as she saw him disappear. She was so close, almost got to him, but he was whisked away once more by his own magic. It was clear this action wasn’t entirely conscious - controlled teleportation looked and sounded different. However, it was clear he felt threatened, felt like he needed to escape, and his magic rose up to the occasion, providing what he needed.

She resisted her own urge to teleport to his last position, knowing it would disrupt the tracking spell if she did. She had to spend precious seconds getting there as fast as she could, cursing herself in the meanwhile. If only she thought before speaking, if only she was better, if only she wasn’t stupid, all of this could’ve been avoided.

The Everfree was pressing down on her, feeling almost physical, and the oppressive sense of darkness permeated the strange-smelling air. Chances were, Wild was now even further into the accursed forest, further into the danger, and it was only luck he stumbled on two timberwolves and not a pack that would’ve torn him apart before he could as much as think.

If Wild were to die because of this, Luna would never forgive herself.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, she reached the spot. Timberwolf remains were littered around it, marking its precise position. It was perfect for tracking, but something was wrong. She couldn’t sense the proper coordinates, couldn’t feel for the position, only a vague sense of direction and distance. The forest was interfering with her, she knew now, and it was clear Wild teleported himself further into the depths of it. Perhaps even to...

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized where exactly Wild took himself to.

***

Out of breath, his entire world spinning ceaselessly around him, Wild landed hard on a - stone? - floor. He lay there, breathing hard, feeling his heart beating in his chest like nothing before, felt his limbs trembling, and sensed his magic sputtering in fatigue. Wherever he was, he couldn’t teleport again, not until he rested. Not that he even knew how to do it, his magic acting on his instinct and not deliberately. It was as if it wasn’t even him who did it.

The urge to run disappeared suddenly, making him pause for a moment. One instance, it was there, and another, it was gone, as if a switch was flicked. Instead, there was... something else. He couldn't define this feeling, it was just... odd. He didn’t like it one bit.

After what felt like an eternity, his mind cleared, the world around him stopped spinning, adrenaline high disappearing, leaving him tired to the bone. Even if he needed to run again, he didn't feel like he would make it far. If he needed to fight, it was clear he would lose. His strength was almost entirely sapped, and if he could think about it long enough, he would realize it wasn't natural.

He knew one thing - he needed to figure out what to do next. He blinked, clearing the last of the blurriness away, and finally gathered enough strength to stand up.

Where he was could only be described as old ruins. Old paint was peeling or entirely gone, exposing the crumbling plaster or the bare gray stone of the surrounding walls. The ceiling had once been glass - now it was gone entirely, smoothed shards lying all around him, barely resembling a part of the ceiling they had once been. Moth-eaten and rotten remains of tapestries still somehow hanged from the high ceiling, their colors faded and barely recognizable underneath what was perhaps centuries of moss and dirt. Old chandeliers, glittering in gold where they weren’t dirty, were still hanging as well - even if one of them was lying in pieces next to a scorched pillar.

This place was giving him the creeps. It wasn’t anything physical - he wasn’t entirely fond of abandoned buildings, and this one seemed sinister in a way that defied description. The atmosphere in it seemed... heavier, somehow. Unnatural. Far more than just imagined echoes. The ruins were devoid of life that had once filled its halls, and it was replaced by something else.

He looked around some more and saw a pair of old thrones. The wood had mostly rotted away, but the gold accents on one and silver on the other remained, and their size and positioning told him they were, in fact, thrones. The better preserved tapestries hanged above them: one with warm yellows, oranges, and whites above the gold-accented throne, and one with cold purple, blue, and silver above the silver-accented throne. They seemed familiar, somehow, as if he had seen them elsewhere... but where, and what did they mean?

Curiosity entirely replaced his urge to escape, and he walked around slowly, quietly, afraid to disturb... what, exactly? Whatever it was, he would be wise not to mess with it, that he knew instinctively. Even his careful steps seemed far too loud in the quiet of these ruins. His own breath sounded more like a shout, and his heartbeat was like a drum. He shouldn't have been there, he knew.

He needed to find the exit. He needed to be away from it, some sort of deeper instinct told him. It wasn’t just the emptiness of these ruins, not the darkness in the corners and in places where it seemed like it had no place to be. It was... the feeling. He couldn’t describe it and neither was he willing to try, not there.

Without warning, something smoke-like poured from the entrance. Yet it was not smoke, not quite - it was a sea of stars, darkest shades of blue and purple, dotted with white. Wild stumbled backwards, his mind screaming danger, and then a second thing poured in after the first one, the same yet ever so slightly different.

“Finally,” the first one spoken, their shape resolving into one of an alicorn. Wild noticed that their shape resembled Luna in some way, which he found odd, “You are here.”

“As he should be,” the second said, voice the same yet different, “We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

Wild felt shivers crawl down his spine, and a hysterical laughter almost burst out of him. First the Invasion, and now... whatever this was. Honestly, who was he trying to fool by thinking everything would be alright? This world had magic and all the things and beings that had it, why would he ever think things would be simple? He was such an idiot.

“You, Wild, have something that we want,” the first said, coming closer, and Wild didn’t notice as he backpedaled some more, almost stumbling on some debris as he did, “And we are... willing to offer you something in return.”

That was how horror stories of impossible debt began. Wild wasn’t exactly well-versed in folklore, but he knew making any deals with mysterious beings was an extremely bad idea. And their voices... they were oddly familiar. Their voices seemed feminine, and their inflections were... where had he heard them before? The tone, too, there was something about it...

“Oh yes, you have what we want,” the second moved smoothly ever-closer, gliding on the ground, “You have experienced horror not many ever hear about.”

“Your very being is marked by it,” the first added.

“The fear, the anger, the helplessness, the hatred, oh how lovely!”

“The desire to grow stronger, to be able to protect yourself...”

“We can give you the strength,” the second was right in his face, making him stumble backwards as his eyes darted around, panic rising, “We can give you power. Teleportation is just a taste of what we have to offer.”

His brain was moving slowly, and he realized...

“Oh yes, it was us who guided you here,” the first said, replacing the second, “You fear Luna’s power, that is why you ran away.”

“You fear what others can do to you, what those more powerful than you can do to you.”

“You fear the helplessness.”

“You fear the lack of control.”

“We can give you all the power you need to always be in control, to never be helpless. There will be no one more powerful than you. Even in your sleep, you will not be vulnerable.”

Wild, despite his fear, was listening. Something was slipping inside his mind, calming him. Was their offer not what he wanted?

“The false changeling princess? She would have been nothing but dirt under your hooves had you our power,” the second said, “Her mind would have crumbled under yours, shattered to pieces, turned to dust.”

The weeks he spent in the hospital wing... he hated them. His mind was not right then. He didn't want to experience it again, he knew.

“With the defenses we can provide, your mind would be impenetrable to all, your thoughts well-protected.”

He had the ability to read thoughts - he didn't want anyone to read his.

“Your body will not tire, will not need recovery, and it will withstand what would have killed you before.”

If he were stronger, could react faster, he could've saved his father from harm, could've jerked the car out of the way before it collided with another. His father would have not been crippled, would have not buckled under the strain of his injury, would have not... went away.

“And besides... you have already seen the results of our work, felt the power we possess.”

Wild blinked in confusion even as he felt his heart race even faster. He did?

“When you were imprisoned by the changelings, when you were alone, we were there,” the second said.

He remembered the insistence, the foreign voice telling him to wake up.

“It was we who woke you up from the false dream.”

“It was we who protected your mind from being destroyed.”

He remembered the agonizing pressure and how, despite it, his mind managed to survive even as he flailed uselessly, mentally weak and untrained.

“It was we who moved the knife just so.”

The kitchen staff put all their cooking equipment away after everything was done. The knife wouldn't have been there normally.

“And it was we who gave you the chance to strike down the enemy.”

Wild hadn’t thought much - tried not to think much - of exactly how he broke out of the cocoon, of how eager he was to kill the changeling princess. But if what they were telling him was truth...

“That was just the fraction of our power,” the first said, “We can offer you more.”

“We are limited, but we grow stronger, and we can grow even further beyond with your assistance.”

Despite everything they were telling him, something in Wild just knew it was a bad idea to make a deal. Seeing the chance, he ran to the only exit he could see, bolting with speed he almost couldn’t process. The dark doorway was almost there, and he dashed - only to bounce back from a glimmering purple barrier. He blinked, confused for a moment, and then he slowly turned around. The beings - whoever and whatever they were - watched him without eyes, an expression of amusement somehow evident on their featureless faces.

“We are giving you a choice,” the first said, gliding smoothly over to him, and then the second joined. They started circling him, prompting him to get up on his hooves and move, “Either you accept what we have to give, all in exchange for a place alongside you...”

He wished he could ask what that meant.

“Or we take what we want,” the second said, leaning slightly closer, and Wild got an impression of bared teeth and an aggressive gaze, “You will cease to exist, your soul made into fuel for us, and your body taken from you to serve us.”

“Or you retain who you are... partially,” the first said, “There are parts of you that you reject, are there not?”

“Share them with us, let us take those parts...”

“And you will remain. You will change, your body will change...”

“But you will live, more powerful than before, better than before in every. Single. Way,” the second finished.

They stopped circling him, and he found himself a lot further back from the entrance than he thought, now close to the silver throne. The moon throne, he suddenly realized.

What choice did he have? Wild was a fool, and he held no illusion - these beings led him here somehow. He would have never found this place on his own, and had he found it somehow, he would have never entered. Their presence explained the feeling of unease, and it was the strongest when they were close. Whoever they were, he couldn’t trust them, but he couldn’t run away either. He could feel he wouldn’t manage to teleport any good distance, and running away from them was, as he had just learned, impossible.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day began well enough, but his own idiocy resulted in yet another Invasion situation. He should have just stayed and seen what Luna had in store for him.

She had never threatened to kill him, after all.

***

Across a chasm, Luna stood, her mouth set in a thin line as she gazed at the ruins of the Summer Palace. The place of her defeat, the legacy of her greatest mistake. Even now, a thousand years later, it was steeped in darkness, radiating malice in an almost physical sense. Even two uses of the Elements of Harmony, as well as the presence of the Tree of Harmony nearby, hadn’t purged it. And now Wild was somewhere inside, and Luna had to squash her horror down lest she abandon her mission and run away.

She needed to hurry, she feared. It was no coincidence Wild was there, and she tried not to think of what could have possibly lured him there. At least she could still feel, through her tracking spell, that he was alive and no more hurt than he was before. She could only pray that it would remain so for the time it would take her to reach him and get him back to safety.

She crossed the chasm by flight, then landed on the overgrown remains of the road to the main entrance. The oppressive atmosphere of the ruins made her slow down, and she knew it was in her best interests to tread lightly. She folded her wings, steadied herself, and went in.

The entrance door, or the remains of it, was ajar, overgrown with moss. She didn’t need to disturb it to get inside, and so she didn’t. With her steps quiet yet sure, she entered the palace. She did not look at the destroyed walls, did not look at the cobwebs and the dust, did not look at the cracked and dirty floor. She pushed her memories of it all down. She didn’t remember how she and her sister used to play there. She didn’t remember how her bitterness grew, turning to hatred. She didn’t remember how she shut herself in the library, looking up books she should have been far more cautious about.

Luna’s horn lit the way as she ventured deeper into the ancient halls, a pang of regret appearing in her head that she quickly chased away. The less time she spent dwelling there, physically and mentally, the better. The danger was lurking, and she had - and could have - only one goal - getting Wild out of this place. Nothing else mattered, nothing else could matter.

In the darkness, she was alone, and it reminded her of the times she had to not remember. The light of her horn was barely enough to keep herself from disappearing into the black, to never reappear again, not as herself.

Voices echoed from afar, making her quicken her pace as her thoughts raced.

It cannot be, she thought. It must not be.

She prayed and prayed, hoping that the worst would not come to pass even as she knew it was futile. She only needed to be quicker - but not so quick as to stumble and lose her way. Her spell unerringly led her to... the Throne Room. She knew that room. It was where that night happened. It was where she attacked her sister.

Her blood stilled in her veins.

No, she thought, prayed, hoped, begged.

She emerged into the Throne Room, and it seemed as if time had stopped. Wild was there, alone, scared, eyes darting for an escape opportunity. And, between him and Luna, they stood. As one, the Nightmare turned to her, and Luna’s heart stopped.

No.

“Ah,” the first said, half-mockingly, “She has arrived.”

No no no no no-

“It appears, dear Wild, that your choice has just been made for you,” the second said.

Wild met Luna’s eyes, the horror in them making her freeze. In that moment, one of them lunged into the center of his body. His horror turned to shocked surprise, and then even Luna could hear the phantom sound of tearing, of something being ripped apart, and Wild’s gaze went blank as his body went limp.

Luna screamed as he fell, wisps of black smoke entwined with red escaped his body, gone between one blink and the next.

Luna continued to scream as his body shuddered as if a hidden puppeteer yanked on the strings. His fur, mane, and tail all darkened, black round spots covered where Wild’s talent mark would have been one day. His empty eyes regained life, blinked, the iris becoming lighter, the pupil now vertical. His body stood up, awkward as if used to something else, something bigger, taller.

“Finally,” the Nightmare said in the voice that had no hints of Wild. Then it turned to Luna, a wide toothy grin spreading unnaturally on the face that didn’t belong to it, “And now... you.”

Author's Note

Finally, a danger that no one could ever expect. The Changeling Invasion, I think we all knew it was coming. The Nightmare? Now that is something new, and I'm glad I finally revealed them. They've been growing in power, and Wild was unfortunate enough to attract their attention.

What happens next? You will see exactly next week from when this chapter is posted. Or you can see it now on Boosty, which I already talked about in the previous chapter. However, I'm not posting anything more on Boosty until the 1st of May. Unfortunately, I got a bit sick, so I spend most of my day lying in bed. It's nothing more than a case of cold, so I should be fine soon enough, so no worries on that front.