Slay the Alicorn Princess

Using your prodigious strength, you wrest the table from the ground and carry it to the door. You kick open the wooden door and stare out into the staircase...which is no longer a staircase.

"...Knew this was a bad idea," the voice of the clumsy asserts.

"It's a pole," you observe.

"Hold on to it with one hand and the table with the other. You can still make this work," the narrator suggests, snippily.

"What if I fall? I'll toss the table first."

"Don't do that!" the narrator says. "You'll regret it!"

You toss the table.

"I hope I'm not foreshadowing," the narrator expounds.

After quite a while, you hear the table smash on the ground.

"Wonderful. Perhaps a leg or two remain intact," the narrator sighs.

"You're going to die," the voice of the clumsy says.

"Maybe I can wait," you say.

And you settle in, leaning against a wall of the cabin for quite a while.

Eventually, the narrator asks, "waited enough?"

"No," you cross your arms, insistent to wait more.

Then you realize: "I'm not getting hungry."

"Yes," the narrator says.

"Or sleepy."

"Of course," the narrator agrees.

"Why? Is this a dream? Am I dead?"

"You're very much alive."

"So it's a dream."

"It's not your dream."

"Is it yo--"

The cabin shakes and starts tilting. You clamber and scratch and seek purchase against the wooden structure for naught. The wood isn't really wood--its laminate or rock painted like wood and warm like wood and it's impossible to grip. And yo u are dumped into the void, with only the pole to hang on to.

You reach for the pole and grab it and swing around acrobatically. Gradually sinking down, down, down, you slide to the ground.

"I guess I was wrong," the voice of the clumsy asserts. "We didn't die."

"And looked good doing it?" you ask.

"I guess," the voice of the clumsy says.

"Did you force us into the basement?" you ask the narrator.

"I can't do anything to you!" It insists.

"So you say."

"You left the door to the basement open. The princess must have done it."

"Why didn't you tell me to shut the door."

"--because I wanted her to do it. You must have this confrontation."

"This really makes me want to trust you," your voice drips with sarcasm.

"I'm not the one dumping you unceremoniously into the void."

"Uh-huh."

You stumble on the remains of the shattered table. One white-painted leg is still serviceable. You pick up the sturdy leg and walk through the darkness toward a flickering glint of light, which illuminates the princess.

"I've been waiting a long time," the princess says, with a creaking, parched voice. "I've been so unfortunate. Trapped down here. Without food, or drink, or anything."

She's older than last time--aged--her face leathery and drawn. Your visage must look shocked, because she explains, apropos of no request: "I... my magic backfired. I wanted to live forever since you were taking so long to get down here and rescue me, but instead of retaining my youth, I've aged."

"How long has it been?"

"I don't have a clock. A sundial. Or a day night cycle." She pointedly bobs her head, gesturing to demonstrate the lack of a window.

"...Have you been in the dark all this time?"

"Except for my inner magical light." The small glint against her chains becomes a blaring inferno. Then it winks out. "It hurts to generate. It burned very hot while I was waiting. But, over time, I realized it wasn't worth it. You weren't coming. You'd hurt me. Even though you may not have wanted to."

"I didn't want to."

"But now you do." She bats a hoof against the table leg, knocking it to the ground.

"You dumped me into this void!" you accuse.

"I have been suffering."

"That does not give you the right."

"Doesn't it? You're supposed to end this, one way or another. You weren't playing your role."

"How do you know I'm supposed to end whatever 'this' is?" you say. "Did someone tell you? Who told you?"

"I--I've always known this. Since I've been here," she shrinks back. You advance with the table leg.

"I think we're being manipulated," you say.

"Does it matter?" she says.

GoTo:
A. Use your weapon.

B. Leave the weapon alone.