Frozen Through the Ages

The edges of Bogwood were a sparse place. The deeper into the swamp you went, the more dangerous it became. That was, unfortunately, the only silver lining to the Tartarus that was today. The nearest building was two hundred meters behind me. I hoped everypony had moved inland. One deep breath and I gazed up at the wall of death before me. The earth roared, the very land warping beneath my hooves. The blistering winds and stinging rain left the wall of muck and churning water, a shapeless mass towering over me. Yet, I did not relent, stomping across the crumbling ground through sloshing green water. The puddles and pools froze beneath my hooves. My mane whipped and slapped against my face with every changing gale. Yet I marched on. Deep down past the frost and fear, a voice pleaded in a part of me, begging for sense and reason. I had emptied those reserves some time ago. In some ways, it was peaceful and simple on my grand parade toward the wave of death. I was lost to the madness, the concern, the worry.

The cold froze many things, rationality being the most relevant. The path I took was one few could relate to, and to that fact, I simply didn't care. The horror and reality sat nestled in the back of my mind. I could feel them tugging, struggling to shake me free of this moment of insanity. Yet I trudged on, the gusts alone nearly sending me tossing and churning in their wake. My ice-covered hooves have to anchor themselves between each step to make any progress. The mudslide blanketed all I could survey: a brown, grey, and green sky. Like the heavens themselves had wretched in repulsion. I had never felt so small, so insignificant. Though the world was whipped into a frenzy, I stood blinded, frozen literally to the spot. I was astounded at how quiet it had become.

It was an almost familiar nostalgia; I recalled Distant Point's face, despair, and acceptance. The look of the defeated. It was enough to spur on my crusade all on its own. I was, in fact, very not alone. Hundreds of lives, many with no knowledge of what would come, what would consume everything. The weary but hopeful ponies hunkered down, waiting for the tide to turn. It made me sick. A thick bile crept up my throat. Seconds, mere seconds, until I stared the reaper in the eye. Let it claim what it may, but I would not be the one to blink. First, I would not go quietly into the night.

When Glacial Zero stared out into the storm's heart, he wept; he wanted to beg for their father. He wished for nothing but this all to go away. Hal disagreed; he, I would not die helpless again; I would not lay broken in the rain. I grit my teeth hard enough to taste iron. The time to choose had passed. The mudslide was here. It groaned, and I yelled back.

"Everything freeze!"

The world around me complied. The air frosted, my breath vapor in the air. The hair down my neck and up my spine stood on end, wreathed in ice crystals. Even without looking behind me, I could feel the tingle and the lightning being reflected off the ice in the air. The land beneath me hardened further and crunched beneath my hooves like fresh snow. Then, it expanded, creeping outward. It was slow at first, barely a crawl. It pushed forward from my forehooves and spilled forth, no form or grace. A simple sporadic web of greedy, cold death. It touched the lowest muck of the wetland's refuse within a second. The ice snaked up and expanded in bands. Like a waning snowflake, a curved arch of unique arms stood before the raging storm.

The air misting in its wake. It grew and swelled in response to the tsunami's crashing waters. It had long cast me in its shadow. It promised my death. I planned to make nature itself a liar. I had, without notice, spread my wings wide. My heart had slowed to the point one would mistake it for having stopped altogether. Time slowed, and the world was captured in snapshots between actions like the world skipping frames of animation and points on a line chart. Hal's memory of flipbooks and old-time cartoons. The concept felt so natural, so expected, even as no such thing existed for Glacial Zero.

As my ice grew, more and more of the muddy wave weighed down upon my growing wall. Fear fed my magic, my rage. Yet, the wave did not stop nor stall. It pressed in harder and further. I stamped a hoof hard into the ice beneath it. The collected debris shaped into shrapnel clinked and plinked into the ice, speckling it with a myriad of rotten floral arrangements and bark. The crunch was barely audible in the torrent. Then, it all started to crack. The ice splintered, chipped, and gave way. One frozen limb would splinter to icy dust, only for another to grow in its place. Every woven tendril renewed left me a breath shorter. The cold settled deeper, sharper, up the body and back down. Since I'd discovered my talent. I'd found the cold to be almost wholly muted. It seemed as if I'd become immune to the wind and sheer. That had been proven false.

I pressed in further, screaming into the storm, my words lost in the wind. More and more ice poured, filling in every crack, doubling, tripling the wall over and over again. It wasn't enough; more cracks, splinters, and spider webs of fear were tracing back to my hooves where it all began. My legs had frozen entirely to the ground, up to my withers, back around but not over my wings. My back legs had emulated my forelegs, trailing ice over my flanks and freezing even my tail solid.

I could feel it on my neck, flecking and chipping with every twitch. Even the blood trailing down my lip had frozen over. It only made me angrier. I'd heard nothing, but others told me I needed to know my magic's limits. Well, if it was the last thing I did, I would know just where the line was drawn. My breath came in sharp gasps as I widened the icy shell further as the water fell in grand waterfalls all around me, partially freezing even as they reached the ground.

"More. Come on, More," I said, shifting what weight I could to my back hooves. The wind had picked up, and I feared I'd have been blown away if I hadn't been mostly frozen in place. Tears stung in the corners of my eyes. Everything hurt; my legs, wings, and even my breathing were raw, my throat burning as I pressed the attack.

I could barely see past the permafrost. The shadow that still loomed over me had split; waves, slower and shallower than the main body, sloshed past me on either side. I held enough if only barely, to see the fading spark of hope ignite once more. In the cold, in the ice, well below zero, I was home; this was all that I was. Bogwood would survive, a promise that passed over and over from my swollen, blackened lips. The words were barely a scratchy hiss in the chaos.

The ice shattered from the edges inward. I glared up in the mud and rain. My ice stretched further, sealing itself at every new open wound. My thoughts fogged over, my barely conscious body pumping what little I could cobble together into my magic. It was then that something tugged at my fading sight. A glimpse of white so pure it dazzled even in the maelstrom. It glinted, dancing through the night. The rain and winds could do little to impede its graceful flittering. It grew closer by the second.

"Glacial Zero! You. Big. Stupid. Idiot."

I'd have blinked if my eyelids weren't frozen wide. The voice traveled as if the storm wasn't snarling and gnashing with uproarious rage. The white had stopped right before me, between me and the tsunami.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Freya reached out, waving a hoof through my face. As she did, as if ensnared like a magnet, the frost and ice that had consumed my eyes, muzzle, ears, and neck came free and fell to the ground.

"Are you trying to die?"

"Fre…yah." My throat was raw and numb; I could barely feel my tongue. "You're?"

"So mad at you it hurts. Yes, yes, I am."

A resounding snap reminded Freya and me that there were still things to attend to. The most important thing being that I was still barely holding up a wall of ice. "Not yet."

I willed my magic harder with the meager weight of my mostly frozen body. The ice pulsed in response, buying myself seconds at most. I winced, eyes flitting between Freya and the disaster ahead of me.

"That won't work, not like this. You'll need all of it." Freya said. Her head fell forward, shaking in silent protest. "Glacie, you need more, and I'm so sorry."

"What?" It was all too fast, and my thoughts fogged over as I tried to line up the pieces for today. The moments all blurred into a right mess.

Freya turned to me, floating forward and resting a hoof on my shoulder. I could feel it, the weight, the soft fur, the keratin pressing down on my still-thawing form. The longer she touched, the faster the ice across my body retreated.

"I can feel you," I whispered.

"Do you trust me?" Freya asked.

I could do little but stare dumbly back. Her eyes and mine stuck, gauging our every last move. I didn't know what I'd expected. I had to wonder, was this my mind's last feeble plea for survival, a simple trick as I froze whole? Freya, returning, being at my side in my last moments? Could I afford to think otherwise? Her question hung in the air as the barrier around us continued to give way.

Jaw clenched, I nodded. "Yes."

Freya's face contorted in a mix of shame and pity. Her hoof traveled up my shoulder and came to rest on one cheek. Her other hoof mirrored the placement of the first. Her smile was the last thing I saw before she stepped forward. Freya had flailed about through me in any number of ways before. A hoof through my head, walking through me entirely, and everything in between. The feeling was like a gentle breeze or a sudden cold down your spine.

This time, it was different. There was no gentle breeze, no cold. It was a euphoric second wind, an adrenaline spike that sent a determined scream through every inch of my body. My ice stopped; there were no more cracks, splinters, or spiderweb-like veins through the whole of the wall.

What came next left me shocked and awed. The body is a miraculous thing. It does so much that the ordinary person or pony wouldn't even consider. It protects itself with limiters and failsafes no one would even know to think up. I could not tell if this was much the magical equivalent, a valve to determine how much one could push their magic without it simply exploding, taking the user with it.

If there were such a thing, then this must be what it felt like for such things to tear away—to simply cease. A shield brought down, a door left wide. A blizzard in a bottle, the cork pulled free. If my ice had been a river crashing into the high tide in defiance, what came next was the wails of the ever-freezing storms that consumed what was once the Crystal Empire—the storms that the Crystal Heart warded against. It was addicting.

My ice surged, crashed, pushed, and pressed. Ever-increasing crests of frost slammed harder and harder into the tidal front that sought to wash me away. I hadn't realized I'd stepped forward. No, I sprinted forward, up the ice I commanded, rising like the tide before me. As I did, the ice spread, no longer a simple shield, no, now it devoured. The wave no longer slowed to the sides. Now it froze. I stood at the crown of my hoofmade iceberg and bared down upon the very destructive battering ram that had only moments before claimed my life as forfeit.

"Perhaps you did not hear me before…" I said, throat still raw, words shaky on a numb tongue. "I. Said. Freeze!" The ice beneath me glowed a deep blue, pulsing and growing brighter with every passing second. From my perch, I stared down at what had befallen all in the wave's path. The wetlands were opposite that of the farmlands. Before making it to town, there had been no pony to kill or lives to destroy. It was likely that the farms would remain untouched even if the tide came in full upon Bogwood. The only survivors to spread the tale of what befell the small port town. In almost all cases, the town would have simply been erased with nothing but shattered wood and stone to signify it had ever been there at all. This was not one of those cases; this was not that chance, that stark reminder of what nature can do if ignored or forgotten.

Instead, where a mighty surging disaster of debris, mud, and marsh water once was. There was now a clawing spire of glowing ice, a pulsing, humming reminder that nature could be conquered, that fate could be changed. A gnarled hand reached to the heavens. It begged for help, yet no one came.

This much power was enough to get a pony drunk and addicted. A pony shouldn't have this much power. It was humbling. Atop a mountain of ice, a single foal saved the day. A typical pony would be elated. I just felt cold.

"I'm sorry."

I gasped, a hoof clenching at my chest. Freya stood beside me. She stared back down the path not traveled towards Bogwood. I staggered like I'd been winded by a sudden crippling blow. The world swam. The ice beneath me pulsed harder. I'd barely seen it out of the corner of my vision. Freya simply walked out of me like nothing had happened at all.

"It hurts. I know, but look what you did, Glacie, look what was in you. So much potential, so much ice, a cold beyond anything you could possibly know."

"Freya, what did you do?" I asked. "Where were you?"

Freya placed a hoof on my shoulder and guided me to look back toward Bogwood. I hadn't imagined it before. Freya's hoof was solid, stable, and alive. I couldn't muster any resistance. I simply let her turn me around. Though weaker, the rain still fell, and the thunder flashed with light. The town was still silent and empty, except for the few pegasi and thestrals who did what they could to protect their home. Amongst those ponies, a gathering had collected, maybe a dozen, amongst the weather teams and the guards. Some stood on cloud tops. Others carried on their own wings. One thing in common: they were all staring at me. I could not make out their faces, most were simply shapes in the dark. Even thestral vision had limits.

"Freya, what was that? What did you do?" I asked again.

She laughed a joyless pedantic chuckle. It did not match the tears on her cheeks or the smile, a sad, pitiful smile like that of the damned. I could barely stand. My body protested every pounding in my head, every shifting of my legs.

"I'll tell you later. I promise, when you're safe, when everypony is safe. There is a lot I think we both want to say. You deserve that much. For now, all you need to know is I did it all to protect you, from him, from them all, from the cold."

Her confession made no sense. Vague and cryptic, it foretold harrowing things to come if Hal's memories of fiction were to be believed. Several of the observers had started approaching, closing in as quickly and from as high over the frozen mass as possible.

I watched as three ponies tepidly hovered above my hoofwork. I swayed in the wind, no longer capable of holding myself still. I blinked up at the three. Distant Point headed the trio. She was crying and weeping, her face contorted in fear and relief. I attempted to smile, though my face was still mostly numb. I had no idea if it had come out the way I'd hoped. I tipped back and fell on my haunches. Slowly, Distant lowered herself onto my ice and stood close enough to reach out and touch me, the other two arrivals, Storm Crash, who sported an intrigued smirk and a look of amusement. Then there was Billow, who looked worse off than I did. She was lost, eyes glazed over as she processed the site before her. I was surprised she'd made it to the frozen wave without slamming face-first into the side.

"Glacial, you, you, look at it." Distant pointed a hoof at my hooves. I nodded. As the last of my adrenaline faded, I found myself pressed harder to so much as stand. Words were beyond me at the moment. "Bogwood, you—"

"He saved the whole Faust forgotten town," Storm Crash said. She tapped a hoof below her in emphasis.

"He's a colt," Billow mumbled. Storm snorted and waved her colleague off.

"Made little difference, I think," Storm said, voice raised just a bit. Billow also seemed to notice as she stepped back, muttering something under her breath.

There was no warning, no cramps or acid in the back of the throat. Before I knew what was happening. My body lurched forward, mouth wide, as I vomited hard enough for my entire body to convulse. Seconds passed before it stopped. In a slushy pool was a rather unsightly, sticky red mixture of blood and my portion of bread and cheese. I blinked.

I was on the ground. I stared apathetically to the side. An endless, unmarred bog and rain—a sight seen a thousand times would undoubtedly be seen a thousand more. I could make out voices, though they were distant and contorted, like hearing a conversation underwater.

I shivered and attempted to stand, finding my limbs limp and useless. I felt the slightest ping of worry before giving up on standing altogether. It could wait; I'd just try later. A nap sounded nice; it'd been a while since I'd had the chance.

The rain was nice and cool on my coat and skin. I felt so hot, cold, and numb all at once. It was odd. I wonder why that was? I barely reacted when something pulled me off the ground. I hummed at the damp warmth of whatever I'd been placed on. It was soft, which I liked. I didn't like that the voices were getting louder. My head pounded in rhythm to their chatter.

"Glacial, stay with us. We're going back to town." One of the voices was close, right in my ear. My head pounded harder. I grumbled weakly. A nap sounded nice.

"Billow, find whatever Night Guard you can. They should be around, " a second voice said, grunting when Billow whined. Poor Billow; maybe she had a headache, too.

There was the sound of feathers. Then, something moved beneath me. "The main shelter is back through the shopping district. The doctors should be there," The second voice said.

The first voice said something that I couldn't hear. The feathers got faster. I shifted and swayed as the air rushed past me. I grunted and idly attempted to wave away the wind.

I felt something press down on my hoof and shush me. "Relax, Glacie, just hold still." I nodded absently at the new, softer voice. The little I could see past all the nice, damply warm things were dark and sodden. Everything was so wet. Someone should do something about that. Where was Mr. Golden Sun when you needed him? The lazy jerk.

There was a thud as the rushing wind stopped. Then, there was a lurch as something ahead of me was pushed away. The rain stopped a second later. I never minded the rain, just the wet, but it was nice napping weather—during, but not in—the rain. Who would sleep out in the rain?

"What are you—?" A new voice asked from ahead of my position on the back of the warm first voice.

"We need a doctor." The very voice I'd been thinking about said.

"What happened? Why is the Night Guard bothering us and not doing their job?" I shivered as the shriek of the new speaker sent my head into a throbbing fit. "Well, Storm Crash?"

"Colt's in bad shape," the second voice, Storm Crash, said. That sounded right. My head spun as I tried to picture the pony in question. All that came to mind was a blurry, shapeless gray mass with wings. "The highlands flooded, and a mudslide nearly buried the town; it should have buried us all."

"And it didn't, why?" another voice asked.

"Colt stopped it," Storm Crash said. I felt the need to smile. A fluttering in my chest had my headache stall for a moment. That sounded like something I'd do. If only every pony had stopped the rain, then everything would have stopped.

"Very funny," The shrill voice said. "Now, why are you and that bat here?"

"She wasn't kidding, Whimsey," the first voice said. I felt the entire body beneath me tense so hard I jostled a bit.

"Oh yes, I'm sure a halfbreed colt stopped a town-ending disaster. You foolish beast." Whimsey was closer, her shrill voice louder. The body beneath me moved forward, and the tension in their back and wings doubled.

"Go check for yourself, the damned thing is frozen right there for all to see. Half the damned weather team saw it. Now get me a doctor!"

I'd have recoiled if I wasn't a limp noodle on the seething mare's back. The room had gone deathly quiet. Seconds ticked by without so much as a stray breath.

"Nurse Balm, the colt," Storm roared, stomping along with her command. The silence shattered. A clatter of hooves from all sides, voices talking over one another, caused my headache to return. The thought of a nap out of the rain sounded nice.

"This is ridiculous," Whimsey said.

"Mrs. Whimsey, it's there." The voices all stopped. I managed a choked sigh. I missed the quiet, and I kind of missed the wet, too.

"What?"

"The mud, the ice, everything." The new voice choked back a gulp. A yelp followed as something loudly stomped away. The quiet returned.

"WHAT!"

The stomping returned this time much louder and quicker than when it left.

"Get that thing out of this building, out of this town, out of Equestria."

"Excuse you?" The first voice asked.

"You heard me."

"Nurse Balm, the colt, if you will. Mrs. Whimsey seems to have lost her Faust-forsaken mind. We'll find her somewhere nice and quiet where she can regain her wits," Storm Crash said. She wasn't loud, quiet, actually. But, I heard her in my heart before I heard her with my ears. The room was more peaceful than before. They heard her, too.

"Who do you think you are talking to, you ingrate?"

A loud crack, splintered wood, an ax, here and now? I attempted a giggle. It wasn't much of a giggle, really, more a choked cough, close enough. There was more stomping and yelling. I guess Mrs. Whimsey didn't like it. She went quiet. My head throbbed again.

"Where is my son?!" The tensing beneath me got worse. There was more clattering. It got closer, a lot closer.

"Weathered Horizon, good, you can deal with your foal. Have you seen what that little beast did?" Mrs. Whimsey had become so shrill she whistled. I tried for another giggle. I coughed some more. Where was that nap?

"What did you just say?" An even newer voice. This one was louder than Whimsey.

"And Bramble Broach, another troublemaker. Take the colt and leave."

"And who exactly will force us?" Weathered asked. Weathered might buck the next pony to speak over their own horizon if they didn't watch it. I petered off into another attempted laugh. My head lulled to one side as I tried to make out whatever was beside me. A lot of Gray and some red, more than one set of wings. No pony needed more than one pair.

"Captain Freezy, please sort out these brigands. They are not welcome here—not in my town, not ever."

No response. The quiet was back. I could feel that nap right out of reach. I couldn't reach out anyway, but the thought was nice.

"Captain Freezy Breeze." With a hint of fear, Mrs. Whimsey knickered.

"No." A new voice, Freezy Breeze, if I guessed. I did guess, I did.

"Really?" Bramble asked. She snorted after. The brown blob stepped up and out of sight. The gray blobs moved closer to me and my damp, warm winged bed.

"Captain!"

"The colt stopped a mountain from burying us alive. What would you have me do to a pony like that? I'm not your hired blade. You want him gone, so you do it yourself."

"Wow, I'm surprised after what you did last week. Seems there is a brain between those ears of yours," Bramble said with a laugh.

"This, this isn't. You can't just…" Mrs. Whimsey trailed off.

"Nurse Balm," Storm Crash commanded the pony in question for a third time. This time must have been magical because a new, warm, not damp bed picked me up and put me on its back. I grunted a thank you.

"What happened? The mare that found us at the docks wasn't very talkative. She did a lot of mumbling, though," Bramble asked. My new Balm bed was moving. The noise around me made me think some of the voices were following. I couldn't keep my eyes open. The dark felt nice. My head continued to pound.

"A lot, you saw the ice?" My first bed asked.

"Yes, we did. Glacial's doing, as I understand it," Weathered asked. His voice was pleasant, deep, neither loud nor soft, and there was no room for confusion. My head hurt a little less when he talked.

"He stopped a mudslide from the wetlands; it would have wiped Bogwood off the map—if we were even on one," Storm Crash said. She sounded grumpy. Maybe she needed a nap, too. We could be napping buddies.

"How'd he pull that off? That sounds like something Princess Celestia or Luna, maybe the Magic Guild, would do, but a colt did it? That is insane," Bramble said. She sounded stuck between a laugh and a choked groan.

"The colt did it. We were there, and we saw everything. It was bewildering, surreal." Storm Crash mirrored Bramble to a tee.

"And now?" Weathered asked.

"Too much, he vomited up blood, looked like death. Even if he could stop the mud wave, it doesn't look like his body should have been pushed that hard. I don't think any pony's body would have been prepared for something like that."

"Distant Point is right. After what he did, looking at the colt was painful."

"I see." Weathered said. The world went quiet.

It was nice, dark, quiet, so lovely. I think I smiled. I finally found that nap.

The all-consuming darkness clawed at my vision, devouring it whole. Sound was next, ripped apart and left deaf by the same sobering abyss. In fact, I couldn't feel anything at all. A deathly chill swept across me, a tangible pressure that crushed me from all directions. I couldn't breathe. I took long, gasping breaths, clawing into the dark. Yet, my lungs found no solace, and yet I lived on.

No, living might not be so accurate. If I were alive, then death would be a mercy. If this were death, then I died a fool. So I drifted in the dark; it was somber, dull, and stagnant. Time was as aimless as I'd become. For a while, I counted out the seconds. One by one, I lost count after seventeen minutes or so.

My thoughts drifted from my own existential dread and back to before, to the rain and mud and cold. The day was one sopping wet blur. I'd made the offense of saying I'd discover the limits of my magic. Well, Freya showed me I couldn't even do that right. Was this the result of my efforts? Did Freya know? Just like that, the dread circled back.

"I hope everypony is okay," I thought to myself. The last thing I recalled was collapsing into a puddle of my own congealed blood. I'd stopped the mudslide, at least. Bogwood would live to reek of fish and marsh brush another day.

The thought had me chuckle or as close to chuckle one can offer in a vacuum. I also recounted Freya's return. I still had yet to learn what she'd done or where she'd run off to. I had no doubt she wasn't imaginary at this point. She was more of a Jiminy Cricket than anything. I recant her seemingly natural goading. A snark that never matched the gentle smile she wore. It was effortless and, more often than not, reached her eyes. So, less Jiminy and more Tinkerbell.

I sighed as best I could in the void. Hal's memories were blurred so completely with Glacial's, and at this point, I wondered if there was a line of distinction left to find. A symbiotic fusion that created something but familiar and wholly different.

I wondered if Freya would be able to separate the two. If she could tell when one or the other began and the other ended if they were not one and the same already.

"Wonder what she'll do now?"

A tinkle, like a gentle bell. My coat stood on end, or so I'd imagine. I listened deeply. My heart, if still beating, would have been racing, pounding like a storm, like the storm from before I'd stopped the wetlands from drowning the town. I started counting again. I'd only reached twenty-seven when the tinkle sounded again. This time, closer. A third takes twenty seconds after the second, and a fourth takes thirteen seconds after the third. It was closer with every jingle. Then it stopped. Minutes passed with no change. I felt my stomach sink. I was alone again.

The sorrow did not last long. My whole being jolted as a sudden retching, gnashing, and tearing of something I could not place or describe. I don't think I wanted to. The dark simply cracked lengthwise. I stared up at the torn imaginary seam. Light poured down over me. As suddenly as I was nothing, I was now something once more. My limbs, my face, my sight, and my hearing. Everything was there as if it had never left. In the blinding white of the tear, something moved. A giant mass shifted from the other side. The light bending and scattering as whatever was there placed itself between the light beams and me.

One looks into the void, gazing ever on into infinitum. It is a fathomless, timeless abyss, a place where one could very quickly lose everything, lose themselves whole. It was from this void that one question was asked: Which blinked first? From this rip in reality, from somewhere into the void, a giant, unwavering amber eye glared. The intense hunger in that gaze was a wrathful, desperate demand. I need not ask of the abyss, for it was I who blinked first.

"What are you?" My voice was small, barely audible, even in the void. I didn't even realize I'd said it before it was left free of my throat. It was followed with an eep like a church mouse. It was pitiful. I was pitiful.

The massive eye narrowed slightly. Though even now, it had yet to blink. The mass behind the eye shifted, and the light beams across my face as I continued to stare up. When its movements ceased, the eye narrowed further.

"I have found you."

I recoiled at the sudden voice. Though deep and heavy, the volume did not match the speaker's size. It was conversational like one would have while discussing their day. I had to repress a surprised snort, all the more so when the eye grew closer, nearly consuming the tear completely.

It was then that it clicked. The eye, the stare, just like before. In my nightmare, the one with Freya, the stare, my mouth ran dry as I shrunk away from my observer.

"The cold calls. You can't hide any longer. I will consume you both."

Both? I wanted to ask, to demand, but I couldn't. At one point, I pondered if my nightmares were Nightmare Moon's doing. I no longer wondered as such. Whatever this thing was, whatever this eye belonged to. It was no pony, not even one like Luna.

"It calls, little chill, and I will answer."

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because you belong to me."

The giant eye blinked, and it was gone. The tear was gone, and once more, I was swallowed by the empty quiet of the void. It was comforting in some ways. In the dark, no one could hear me cry.