Master of Stars: Dawn of Friendship

The wind brushed across his face and blew his mane about as he stood near the edge of the cliff. Looking down, the darkness smiled back at him. It called to him; beckoned to him. The wind seemed to whisper “Come to me,” softly; eerily. He shuddered, his coat bristling slightly as the zephyr continued to swirl all around him. He looked to the other side of the canyon and he could see them; all of them. They stood there, asking for him to come. They called to him; welcomed him.

He looked down at the darkness again and closed his eyes, pushing down his fears. He’d done this a thousand times before; he could do it again. He could make it. He took a few steps back and dug his hooves into the ground, creating small crevices in the dirt. He took a breath. He ran forward and jumped, closing his eyes as he felt his back legs leave the earth. He could make it this time; he knew he could. The wind blew strong around him as he felt his body glide across the ravine. He knew he would succeed and he opened his eyes, expecting to see their faces; their smiling faces.

Instead, he saw the cliff face before him as he began to plunge into the darkness. Panic overtook him while his heart rate increased. He attempted to use his magic, but no spells worked in this place. Nothing ever worked in this place.

He continued his descent, feeling a force around him which increased his speed. Something was pulling him down. He stared down into the darkness and saw those eyes burning fiercely back at him, coming closer at an ever quickening rate. They were the same eyes he had hoped to never see again; eyes that had only brought pain and despair to his life; eyes that represented the very thing that tore his whole world apart and left him with nothing but his own guilt and shame. They burned into his soul, and he felt something that was all too familiar to him: fear.

An unsettling laughter was heard and echoed all around him as a jet of flame shot out of the darkness, headed directly towards him. He closed his eyes, ready for the impact that was to come.

The unicorn quickly sat up, wide-eyed and short of breath. His coat was damp with sweat, as were the sheets on his bed. He reached up and put his hooves to his head and closed his eyes once again, trying to calm himself down. He continued to breathe in gasps, though he did his best to regain his composure by taking deeper and slower gulps of air.

The frustration within was apparent by the shaking of his legs and the unkempt nature of his mane, though his appearance was the least of his concerns for the time being. After several tense moments, he sighed heavily and rolled out of the bed. His hooves clopped down on the stone floor, the sound echoing throughout the circular room and down the spiral staircase to the floor below. The stallion took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and his horn began to glow dimly to light the room.

He opened his eyes slowly and he let them adjust to the new light source. He glanced around his room, which was now dimly lit with the glow of his horn. The shadows from his many books and contraptions seemed to dance around, as if to taunt him for his disheveled appearance and disturbed mood.

As he reflected on the dancing shapes, the laughter in the dream resurfaced in the depths of his mind, sending a shiver down his spine that brought back the anxiety from before. Steadying his nerves once more, the stallion pushed forward and walked down the spiral staircase to escape from his den, where the nightmare lingered. As the glow of his horn followed him down the stairs, the den was slowly overtaken by shadow, almost as if it were being consumed by the very dream that he wished to forget.

When he reached the bottom of the stairwell the glow of his horn cast a dim light around the new room and revealed what appeared to be an old feasting hall; or at least it used to be. Walking forward, he took little notice of the dust that seemed to blanket the oaken tables and he barely regarded the unlit torches that lined the walls, the tips of which were a faded black from previous use long before. Utensils and plates still remained in place, seemingly left to be unused and forgotten in eternal abandonment. The only response to his presence was the echo of his hooves as they clopped upon the cold, stone floor. A fact resonated deep within him; a fact he had already long known: he was alone.

He made his way over to one of the tables and stopped just short of the sturdy, oaken structure. This particular table had been pushed against the wall, separated from others of its kind in the center of the hall, and appeared to be one of the only things in the room that had been used recently. From the half-melted candle to the many tomes and scrolls that were thrown about on its surface, it was apparent that it had been used as workbench. The unicorn let out a slow sigh as his horn glowed brighter, causing the nearby candle to light. The small flame seemed to dance excitedly in the otherwise still hall.

The stallion then began to read over the tomes, his eyes moving about the pages at a rapid pace. His brow furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted across each line, as if he were looking for something, and his face remained stoic. After he finished with a particular scroll, he would use his magic to toss it aside sloppily into a pile of other works, all of which seemed to have been put through similar treatment. This process continued on, with minutes slowly fading into hours and the frustrated expression upon his face slowly growing more desperate with each drop of wax from the candle.

As time continued to wear on, he started to toss the tomes about in a more aggressive manner. He mumbled to himself, quietly at first but growing more agitated and desperate. “Come on. Come on. There has to be something…” he said, anxiety and stress lacing his words. Just as he was tossing another scroll aside, the candle he had been using finally burnt out. The stallion, startled by the sudden darkness, attempted to use his magic to light another candle he had placed nearby.

However, in his stressed and tense state, he couldn’t seem to concentrate properly on lighting the candle. His horn glowed and emitted a quick spark before dying once again, leaving the room in darkness. He continued to grow more and more frustrated with each passing failure, causing the spark from his horn to grow more and more intense each time. “Damn you…light!” he yelled out, his horn glowing brightly before sending out a shockwave that knocked the candle off the table and sent the tomes and scrolls scattering about, mixing the stack of already read tomes with those he had not yet read.

“No….” he whispered softly, his voice cracking like a dam trying to hold back the torrent of emotions. All his work, months of work, wasted with a misfire of one of the first and simplest spells he had ever learned. He put his hooves to his head and closed his eyes, trying to maintain the calm he had worked so hard to achieve after the dream. He let out a deep breath and opened his eyes, his vision focusing on the silhouette of the candle on the floor.

Upon seeing the candle, the very object that had caused his most recent pain, the emotions surged forth again. The mental barrier he had built gave way, and he let out a loud yell as his body was surrounded by intense energy. His eyes glowed with electric current, and his coat and mane stood on end as the energy swirled about him with all the power of a tempest. He lifted the candle up with his magic, before sending it with all the force he could directly across the room, the sound of thunder being the only noise that echoed throughout the hall.

That is until the sound of shattering glass was heard where the candle was thrown. This noise startled the stallion, who cast aside his wrathful mindset in exchange for timid curiosity. He slowly walked over to where he had heard the sound, his eyes trying to adjust to the darkness around him. Remembering his magic, the unicorn, albeit with slight hesitation, lit up the room with the dim glow of his horn. As he did so, light was cast back at him from an area in the corner of the room, drawing his attention due to the erratic and warped way in which the light seemed to be cast. He then slowly walked towards the phenomenon, his curiosity now at its peak.

As he stepped closer, he recognized the source of the light was from a mirror, shattered by the candle which he had flung across the room; now broken in half on the floor. The stallion stepped closer to the mirror and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, caught sight of himself. He saw the bags under his eyes, accented by the marks of stress that lined his face. He noticed his long mane, unkempt and scraggly along with his matted coat. However, the thing that drew his attention more than anything else was his eyes. They reflected the inner turmoil he had been fighting to keep at bay, the fear that he had long held deep within himself; the broken nature of the stallion in the mirror. Most of all, they reflected all the failures that had plagued him. Failures that brought him nothing but pain and sadness; failures that were the reason why he was now alone.

Tears formed and began to slowly fall down his face. He tried to keep the sobs contained but the emotions kept pouring forth. All reservations were soon shattered and all attempts to keep in control were thrown aside as the stallion broke down, tears pouring down his face and clouding his vision as he stared at the failure in the mirror. “So this is who you are now…..” he said through broken sobs.

“This is what has become of the great and powerful Star Swirl…”