The Angel with Black Wings

He was falling. Everything was weirdly slow. Even his mane was slowly moving, like in slow motion while falling. His eyes were half closed. After a minute of apathy in this dark ambient, he realized he was near the ground. He landed on his back, slowly. It didn’t even hurt. As he woke up, he realized he was on a desert island. The sky was plain blue. Not a single cloud. He felt tired, so he decided to rest under a nearby palm tree log, broken from the leaves and the roots, probably by a storm. As he closed his eyes, he felt the sea breeze moving his mane, bringing a salty smell. He was about to fall asleep in a dream, when he started hearing somepony sobbing. He got up in a flash, facing the forest, in the opposite way from the beach. He had to search for him. As he walked away, the sea became purple, and the grass darker. Passing the first trees, he could hear it perfectly.The forest became thicker, slowing him down. He finally got near the voice. He could see a blue lake, from behind a bush, and a filly crying into it. Black decided to come out, and talk.<> The filly didn’t even turn around.

She just yelled <> Black got pulled back, and the black mist trapped him again. This time he landed on his hooves. He wasn’t in a normal place. He was somehow in a room, with black walls. A weird lucid material, that looked like obsidian. The floor was different. Same material, but carved and much more plain than the walls. In the middle of the room, there was a red carpet with golden details. Two high chandeliers with a purple blaze were standing at the end of the room, lightning up the whole area. Turning around, he saw the rest of the room. The carpet lead to a few of large steps. At the center, a huge throne built in the wall, a few metres tall, not as the far far ceiling, but still pretty high. It was black and white, symmetrically coloured. It was firm in the obsidian. Two arms of the same colours, as in every other throne. His cutie mark was on the back, around a metre from the seat, but more detailed, in fact you could even see every single detail in every feather. He looked at the seat.

Just a figure standing still in front of it. It wasn’t a clear figure. It was evanescent, the colours weren’t well outlined. He could only see a white equine ghost staring at him with penetrating eyes. <> Was the only thing to say. It didn’t even answer, with easy steps, it began walking toward him. At every step, the sound of the hoof touching the ground hit his head, causing really strong pain. Every step gave him heavier headache, his eyelids were heavy, he was panting already. Almost falling on his knees, he tried to resist. The thing got near him. He could only see his body, and a really fair grey mane. Growling, he was still on his hooves. As the ghost smiled, Black felt like dying, just when he closed his eyes.

He woke up in real life, with a scream. Taking huge breaths, the light entering from the window was blessing him from that dark madness. His mane was covering his eyes, still half closed, he had his mouth wide open. Slowly, his heart slowed down, while the fear was vanishing. It was just a bad dream now. He tried to get up, forcing his legs to stop shaking.