Dark Blue

Three days.

Three days I have been trapped down here, or at least I assume so. I have actually fallen asleep three times, and had to scrounge enough food that it feels like three days. What little food is here isn’t exactly fresh, stored inside of a run down pantry a little further into the carved tunnels and away from the water, but I hadn’t much other choice.

I cannot find my way out, and the other pony I saw hasn’t returned.

I’ve taken to tentatively exploring the other tunnels. A surprising amount of them are neatly carved out and are supported by old wooden beams and supports, but here and there the tunnels give way to more natural caverns and tunnels. Not a single one of them looks like a way out, but after my first night I decided I needed to try and figure which one will lead to my salvation.

I discounted most of the tunnels that ran down, assuming they would only go deeper into the hills and rock and opposite where I wanted to go. This left me three tunnels that sloped up, one wide and two narrow.

I explored the wide one on the second day for a few hours, and it turned out to be a surprisingly linear path and easy enough to walk in my state. About halfway through exploring it, however, it began to twist and run back down into the earth. By the end I could hear the familiar sound of rushing water, and come up from one of the downward passages.

Hours wasted on a bloody loop.

After returning I was too tired to really care much. I ate. I slept. I woke up earlier today feeling demoralised. My friends are most certainly worried about me now, and while the thought is comforting being with no company, no sunlight for three awful, awful days is just so… so…

I can’t really think of a single word to encapsulate it, really.

I still manage to drag myself off the awful table I have been using as a bed. I managed to steal a rough sheet from one of the other rooms to use as a blanket, to fight off my growing shivers. Now I tie it around my neck as a makeshift cloak to help keep me warm for my next bout of exploration.

The remaining two tunnels are narrow, but just wide enough that I can squeeze my way through. I opt for one further from my current hostel, and begin another expedition.

It is frustratingly steep. Rather than a gentle incline like the wider passage, this one forces me to climb it, like an ancient stairwell, rising up from the depths of Celestia knows where. Every few feet forward and up I am forced to pause, to catch my breath and recuperate, but I have the faintest feeling of making progress. That is enough to keep me going, to lift myself up and dust myself off and to keep on trying.

It feels like hours before I arrive somewhere meaningful. Somewhere ahead and above I can make out the faintest of light, a dim, twinkling glow. The closer I get, each step upward, I see more of the light and it feels increasingly familiar.

At last I poke my head up over the final step to a cavern, flat, shining, and comfortingly the same as the caves I am used to exploring. All the tension in my muscles and bones release, making me fall flat on the ground at the top of the passage, and I can’t help but let out a girlish giggle. Maybe it’s a little too early, but I feel confident. I am close.

Steeling myself, I get back to my hooves and walk forward. There is a growing temptation to examine the gemstones around me but I leave my horn aglow, dim as it is, and I ignore my urges.

Then I stop, as ahead I spot a familiar cloaked figure slowly hobbling along, muttering something under their breath though that cuts off the moment they appear to spot me. In silence we stare each other down, though I cannot see their face clearly. I hadn’t realised until now just how poor my eyesight was getting.

Taking a breath, I open my mouth to speak when the other pony darts for me and my words come out a shrill shriek. I turn, aiming to run back the way I came, but the uneven beating of hooves catches me before I can truly get going and tackles me to the floor. We tumble head over hoof, nearly careening back down the passage whence I came.

In the commotion they smack my horn and my light goes out, leaving us in the eerie twinkling ambience of the local magic. I try to swing up at them, aiming for their head, but my hooves connect far earlier than I expected and I end up beating the air out of their chest. Apparently that’s enough for them to lose their strength, and I am able to squirm out from underneath, my lame leg dragging behind me.

Whimpering with each step, I manage to put space between us, but my assailant recovers quickly. I need to be as quick to stop this before it gets out of hoof, so with my one good leg I tense up before kicking it out behind me. There’s a horrid squelch and crack behind me, and I catch the figure falling to the floor in my peripheral vision.

I don’t wait to see if they are okay. I flee back the way I came, wanting nothing more than to remove myself from the situation, to hide in the one place I know down here.

My flight back down the natural stairs is far quicker than the grueling climb earlier. After nearly slipping a few times I realise I need light, but though I try to cast the spell it fails me. My chest aches at the realisation of why that might be, but I don’t linger on it. I can’t linger on it. I need to get back to safety.

Soon I am back in the little complex of carved out rooms and I practically fall into the one, lit room.

I let the panic attack finally take over. I can scarcely breathe and my limbs turn into facsimiles of their former selves, bundled up beneath me, and I cry. I cry when I think of my friends, whose touch and affection I am increasingly convinced I will never see again. I cry when I think of the horrible, nasty ponies down here with me who wish nothing more than to hurt me. I cry at my sorry, crippled state, barely able to walk and now unable to cast any magic at all.

I cry and I cry and I cry until my throat is hoarse and my eyes sting and until I am so completely and utterly exhausted that broken dreams take me.