Dream's Fading Shadow

Daylight's Trial

On the third day since Spike had left, Twilight seemed ready to fall asleep at any moment. With the failure of the previous night still weighing on her mind, she could barely stay awake as she jotted down all the details of the recent nightmare on a small whiteboard.

“This, this too...” she murmured in a dull voice, yawning. “I wonder if Spike has arrived yet...” she said, her mind drifting.

She had managed to establish a small connection with the entity in her dreams, although it wasn’t enough. She considered whether she should share this new information with someone, perhaps her friends, Princess Luna, or even Princess Celestia. But she still felt the need to investigate further before alarming others.

“Just a little longer...” she told herself, determined not to give up.

In the morning, she had finally found something. A book that specifically discussed dreams. It contained many interesting things, but nothing really helpful—there was nothing about dream demons, communication between dreams from other realities. However, there was one particular page that read:

Normally, when we dream, we have this "dream body"—it's not a real body but one we create to project ourselves in our dreams. The dream body usually represents what...

But she couldn’t read the rest because the page with the remaining information was torn. It was frustrating, but she refused to give up. Despite the setback, she remained determined, continuing her quest to uncover the truth.

Then an idea crossed her mind: What if she tried sleeping during the day instead of at night? Could it be that the darkness of night was affecting the intensity of her nightmares? She had never tried taking a nap at midday. She looked at the clock; it was already noon, and she didn’t even remember having lunch.

“...Maybe it’s worth a try,” she murmured, stifling another yawn.

Instead of going to her bedroom, she decided to change the setting. She dragged a small armchair into the living room and settled into it, trying to find a comfortable position. As soon as she reclined, the gentle embrace of the chair lulled her into a deep sleep.

Once again, the black void enveloped Twilight, but this time something was different. She no longer felt the same overwhelming sensation of being devoured by darkness. To her surprise, the ground materialized beneath her hooves, solid and cold, sending a shiver through her.

“I know you’re here. Show yourself!” she said with renewed firmness, her patience wearing thin.

In the dream, Twilight felt alive, in control. But in the real world, she was trapped and exhausted. If this experiment was successful, perhaps she could adjust her sleep schedule and find a solution.

“I want to talk to you!” she exclaimed, looking around for the figure that had been tormenting her.

The creature didn’t take long to appear, but this time, Twilight could see it more clearly. It was not just a shadow. Its fur was as black as ebony, contrasting with the sharp white fangs that gleamed in the gloom, and its red eyes glowed intensely.

“Weren’t your eyes green?” Twilight asked, recalling the green glow she had seen before. Something about that gaze seemed strangely familiar.

The creature didn’t respond. Instead, it slowly rose and began to approach her. Twilight was surprised; until now, she had always been the one to approach the creature.

When the beast was close enough, Twilight had to look up to meet its eyes. It was enormous, at least twice her height, and its presence was intimidating.

“You’re... very tall,” Twilight murmured, astonished by its size. “And strong...”

The creature’s breath was palpable near her, and although it didn’t unsettle her, the situation was disturbing. What did this beast want from her? Why hadn’t it attacked her yet?

“What do you want from me?” Twilight asked, trying to decipher its intentions.

The creature growled softly and brought its face close to Twilight’s ear, causing her to shiver. The sound was strange but didn’t seem threatening.

“What—what are you doing?” she asked, moving away slightly, confused by the proximity of the being.

Suddenly, the creature came even closer, and in an unexpected move, it licked Twilight’s ear.

“What?!” Twilight exclaimed, recoiling sharply, her face flushing with indignation and embarrassment. What was this thing doing? “I—I don’t want to play with you! If you need something from me, just tell me. Stop tormenting me!” she shouted, frustrated.

The creature observed her with a mix of curiosity and amusement, showing no signs of remorse. Slowly, it began to walk toward her again, casting an imposing shadow over the unicorn.

Twilight narrowed her eyes, bracing herself for the worst. But the creature stopped suddenly, fixing its gaze on her.

“What’s wrong?” Twilight asked, seeing how the creature seemed to hesitate.

The beast stared at her intensely before taking a few steps back. It opened its mouth as if to say something, but to Twilight’s surprise, no sound emerged.

Twilight opened her eyes and, to her astonishment, felt no pressure in her chest nor was her breathing agitated. This time, only a slight frustration overwhelmed her. She fell to the floor from the armchair, sighing deeply. What did that creature want from her? Help? Or was it just playing with her?

“Another failure...” she murmured, exhausted. But something troubled her. Why was there no sunlight in the room? She quickly got up and ran to a nearby window. She couldn’t believe what she saw.

“It can’t be!” she exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and joy in her voice.

It was nighttime. Maybe not very late, but the sun had already set. She had slept deeply and uninterruptedly!

“How many hours did I sleep...? Four, five? Who cares, I slept!” she told herself, excited but quickly containing her enthusiasm to avoid alerting the entire neighborhood.

Twilight laughed softly, feeling the tension of the past days beginning to dissipate. She leaned on the window, watching the sun set.

“I guess it was a success...” she murmured, smiling slightly as her eyes remained fixed on the sunset.

to be continued.