Its just a slime hows this gonna be worth reading
Having traveled many days without a proper tent to pitch, and clouds on the horizon this lone mage wonders if he can get proper shuteye. He spots a barn up ahead and decides he can sneak in to sleep at night. If anyone has a problem he can just pay them or something, he decides.
The mage's bags are full of basic dry foods and spoils from his conquest of a neighboring troll encampment. Trolls give good bounties typically because fire interferes with their regeneration and effectively blinds them and its ezpz. He has got paid some in advance and will receive his full reward once scouts confirm his work. They probably won't scam him because they may want to establish good relations and don't want to make an enemy of him.
Nearing the barn he notices it seems abandoned, and the storm clouds aren't nearing too quickly but they'll be here once he is sleeping for sure. His pale navy horn glows a happy green color, and then a small orange flame floats before him so he can spot the barn door and light his way inside. He shuffles up, his vision distorting from suddenly stopping his movement like his visual cortex expected to keep moving forward. He adjusts himself for a moment before lifting the wood and opening the latch and lights his way inside.
It looks relatively recently abandoned. Theres some moldy hay inside and signs of a brief struggle. Whoever got here didn't stay long he thought, as he puts his hood back revealing his white and neon green mane and red eyes. He isn't a tough looking pony, in fact looks a bit feminine, soft, and his eyes seem sleep deprived. He inspects his surroundings.
"Mmm no lantern..." He puts down his saddlebags and organizes a more dry less moldy section of hay to rest on. You see he didn't bring a lantern because it takes up too much volume and he would rather bring spoils. But not being very strong he still couldn't bring much, just some gold and gems. Good thing trolls like shiny stuff or he wouldn't have found any.
Nothing in the barn seems to be amiss, he decides to lay down and quickly falls asleep, exhausted from his relatively short journey, even too tired to think about his plans for his spoils.
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Its storming out with heavy thunder and sparse rain.
What is our protagonist dreaming of?
A troll gives a war cry only to burst into flames with a crack. They see their mage, grinning with anticipation. He is going to be able to pay off his magic college debts, which are quite expensive due to the various obscure ingredients required for various studies. Then perhaps he will enjoy a nice trip to the spa, perhaps meet some mares at a bar. Get betrothed, he wonders. A blast hits another troll and another. Their encampment is spared of the flames due to their eagerness to establish dominance for territory. Which is why they are a problem for the neighboring kingdom. Fire magic is the simplest way to defeat them, it can keep on burning. Even acid magic runs and is beat by their regeneration. Pinning them with ritualistic spells would be too impractical, and even the elder gods don't want them as a sacrifice. One described it as like chewing on a rough steak that's poorly seasoned and doesn't break apart, and lacking the proper cortex to manipulate or manifest in.
But enough of my musings.
The mage easily trots down to the town and inspects their quarters. Their quarters look more like a nest on the inside, and easy to find their spoils. Its so easy.. Everything is going to work out..
"Mmmmm.." This hoof massage is divine. And now my tired muscles are getting massaged, he thinks. He opens his eyes, and sees a beautiful mare, who slowly climbs atop him whilst massaging.
"Oooo~ whats your name sweetie?"
"BlurGHckl." She cutely settles atop him.
"Hm must be of eldritch lineage." Suddenly he is smothered in kisses quite aggressively he can't hardly breath. In fact he can't breath! Perhaps I have sleep apnea and am dreaming he ponders..
He awakes his heart pounding, a slime trying to eat him, covering him almost fully. His head starts pounding as he attempts to scramble but is too weak from the journey and lack of oxygen and weak limbs. His horn glows a panicky green jabbing with telekinesis and tearing it off himself! He gasps for air as soon as he can, panting, but the slime is aggressively encroaching!
He lights his horn to cast fire but as soon as his horn is lit he realizes that would be a mistake, theres combustibles all over in the barn! He sweats as he gently lowers the small ember to the slime to discourage it but its quickly put out from the slime's moist body and only agitates it into becoming more aggressive. He grits his teeth heavily breathing through his nostrils, then some adrenaline kicks in and he gives a battle cry and begins stomping the slime, but his weak limbs don't accomplish anything aside from the slime coating him easier. His pupils shrink and he sweats and cackles manically.
He sets fire to the barn.
"I'll take you with me you little shit! I'll go down in a blaze of glory! I'll shoot the fire with more fire to explode it out of the way to avoid catching ablaze if I have to! You'll never take me alive!"
The fire doesn't combust the barn because its soaked through from the rain which has picked up and he didn't have enough oxygen or casting time to create an explosion to make an easy escape through the barn wall.
The slime covers his mouth, and his life flashes before his eyes. He remembers the smell of the food his mother used to make. His childhood crush. His effort weakens against the slime, limbs sapped of strength.
He remembers the efforts of college. The spoils of his first and only battle. How he would practice magic every night overjoyed, happy to be a unicorn, happy to learn relatively complex magic he didn't get the chance to living on a farm before the college. Everything darkens.
He sees odd sights. Beautiful sights. He sees the abstract embodiment of the archtype of comfort, a beautiful guardian of a goddess, come to relieve him of his suffering. He relaxes. This ain't so bad.
He dies, and his soul rises out of his body while its asleep, and into the astral plane, where it awakes.
"Huh?" He floats about bodiless.
There is a big bounding horse guffawing and quickly approaching. Her mane is as the night, her coat a dark navy, her flank revealing a crescent moon as its muscles stretch and her flank wobbles, and he looks up at her entirely dwarfed in size.
"Ah ha ha ha ha! You died to a slime. Hahahaha! Just after demolishing the biggest threat to Equestria in 20 years like you were toasting bread! Ah. Brings a tear to my eye.. Eheh. Anyways."
His eyes water and his lips tremble in a frown.
"Off you go!" Her horn glows and he rises into a different plane slowly, feeling his form fading into something beyond his grasp.
"Wh-what, whats going to happen?"
"You are going to join something greater, something all who have come before you and all who come after you will join as well."
"A collective consciousness and souls of the spirits of the dead?"
"No, I am sacrificing you and your entire lineage to Nyarlathotep." She says her eyes going crosseyed as she gives a dark incantation.
"Noooooooooooooooo~."
"Just kidding hehehe."
"Ah... Phew, that's a relief.." He says as he is slowly dissolving into this greater consciousness.
"You are being sacrificed to nightmare to increase its consciousness!" She cackles and guffaws wildly, her pupils pinpricks as she kicks her legs out on the floor on her back.
"I can't believe you've done this."
He fades into the entity, feeling like he is moving in a vortex of souls whose thoughts pass through each others through a thin membrane. He slowly comprehends the size of the entity. Its like a galaxy. He feels pale. Its larger than a galaxy if he were a star. He feels more pale. He slowly goes mad from the infinitous size of the collection of souls, feeling like he is hurling about on a dark sea with neon thoughts flowing through him like he is a vessel for all things not himself and recoils and screams in terror resonating his voice with billions of others as they remember their tragedy in essence. A great mad humor penetrates through all things as the nightmare itself finds amusement in its shock.
"I am not infinite, but I may as well be to your puny consciousnesses. Behold my power, you cannot evade my will, embrace being a vessel, it will happen in due time anyways.." The countless sea of a medium conforms as they recall their purpose, their resonation too strong to overcome, as this mage is slowly subdued into this insanity... Bliss comes at submitting, and his memories he is allowed, as the majority of his mind is taken to act as a conduit for the rest of this entity, and he is fed pure bliss and can lightly communicate with the others...
Both beautiful and terrifying, this existence is... He feels himself merging, confusing which memories were his, sparks of thought trigger internal resonances now and then newcomers reminding himself of who he is, simultaneous this entity recalls who they each were.
Nightmare with vast cognitive resources, remains largely in mystery to these countless souls.
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Many aeons into the future, this entity is touched, and becomes a paradise and everyone joins the ex-Nightmare in glory, alive or dead, everyones souls are free and entwined and distinct. No one suffers, alive or dead.
It is but a Dream.
Author's Note
Eh I didn't plan on taking this to odd places, but I did. Peace.
