Tale of Black Hope

My seventh birthday began like any other, though after the dream I felt I better understood why it seemed they were so happy I was just alive and well. I had still not told them of the dream. I had even tried to hide all evidence that it had begun to consume my thoughts. Perhaps I had begun to go insane then because of it.

After the usual celebrations I retired to my room. There was a thunderstorm outside. My adoptive father's obsession with his family namesake had rubbed off on me. I adored the rain, and despite my mother's wishes, I often when outside to play in it. I opted to on that day, to perhaps practice my magic again. That was when I met her. Even in the dim light of the storm I could see her royal blue fut, light blonde mane, and her bright green eyes. I might have fallen in love right away if something about her eyes weren't upsetting me. They were full of a fear I recognized. Fear of life lost. Fear of a force greater than yourself. Fear with a grip like iron on your lungs.

She ran by me without noticing. Her pursuer went by in the same manner, though he was much larger. He was a full grown stallion, and he had strong enough build to easily catch up with her. Young, naive, and ever ready for martyrdom, I took off behind them as fast as my little hooves could carry me. The sky itself seemed to hold its breath, or adrenaline had made me deaf to all but the sound of heartbeat and hoofbeat. The pursuer must have noticed the sound of an extra set of hooves splashing through puddles behind him, when her turned to face me.

His wicked grin was unsettling. The image of his face burned quickly into my mind. His eyes were full of malice, and what I would later be able to identify as lust. He was three times my size, and perhaps just as many times as strong. But I had something he didn't. Magic.

He sprang forward, though I will never know what his full intention of this was, whether to harm me or only to startle me, he had certainly done the latter. My eyes were shut but a bright light bled through my lid, accompanied by the crash of thunder. My horn felt burned, and I opened my eyes to see what had happened. He lay several feet away, his faced smoldering from the blast. I think it best that I never saw how burned he was as he got up wailing in agony and fled. I was already scared and the trauma might have rendered me unable to perform the task that still lay before me.

I ventured ahead and found her cowering just within an alley. She was cold, but shook with fear rather than chill, though still a little less than before. I sat beside her to reassure her that he was gone. That she was safe, and well guarded.

"I don't know why he was," she began unprompted by any inquiry, "I was walking with my mother a-and the storm came... I got scared by the thunder, then we got separated... H-he,,, Tried to do something to me, I'm not sure what." I began to revel in my own heroism, but tried to contain it. Humility was one of many virtues in my home. "He's gone now," I asserted this fact with a note of pride, "And I doubt he'll bother you again." A flash through the sky brought her closer to me for shelter. "If only you could get rid of-" The thunder announced itself with a loud crack, completing her thought.

But I, having adored the ferocity of storms nearly as much as my father, could not sympathize with her fear. I was only confused. Nonetheless I continued to comfort her. I was in no rush to leave her company, and equally determined to show her that the sky's fury was a thing of art rather than malice, however wrong I might have been.

As the storm cleared, and Celestia's light poured through, we exchanged names. Esper was an unusual, but strangely alluring name. Mine amused her. "Obsidian," she said, "That sounds like an old stallion's name." The way she giggled, I couldn't tell if she was joking with me or making fun of me. But I didn't care. She was happy. I may have been too young to understand love, but I know that her happiness made me feel wonderful then. I wasn't worried about the dream or even my birthday.

I promised her that if anything happened to her, she could come to me and I would protect her. She asked if she could come over for other things too. Like to hear the story of how I got my cutie mark. The look of confusion on my face prompted her to point out what I had failed to notice any sooner. The mark had appeared on my black fur, a blue star casting lightning downward. I couldn't begin to describe my excitement. My cutie mark and a new best friend, my birthday could not be more perfect.

However the latter gift evidently was only temporary...