Discredited

In countless universes, infinite lavender unicorns found themselves in a cave of crystal, mocked by mimics and driven to despair. With the uncanny luck that accompanies the destiny-driven, they reunited with a multitude of tiara-laden princesses and proceeded to win the day through song, love, and willpower in the darkest hour. In countless universes, there are countless deviations. A left-turning passage in one goes right in another, a blue crystal is purple, a Pegasus is an earth pony. In one universe, the darkest hour became some very dark years.

Twilight awoke again. She had lost count of the number of times she had found herself waking up, the count she’d kept in her head being lost around seven-hundred fifty-four. It was all the crystals. All crystal and no sun make Twilight lose… track. The lack of companionship helped, too. Sure, she’d kept herself adequate company at first, holding extended conversations with her reflection, sometimes even learning a thing or two in the process. After a while, though, Twilight had stopped talking to herself, which broke her heart. She wondered what she’d done to make her so mad at herself, and hoped to patch things up soon enough. It would be a revolutionary lesson in friendship. It would make for an excellent letter to Princ….  No.

Wet face. Wet hooves. Estimated water wastage: five-point-six milliliters.

No. No. No.

Twilight awoke again. Mental checklist time. Checklists don’t turn on you.

First item: add variety to diet of moss with some lichen. Check and yuck.

Retry topaz passage and take downward-sloping branch this time: check.

Mark walls with paint spell to keep track of progress: check.

Wish for just one book, even a brochure or pamphlet: check.

Sigh, and jump at the noise: check.

Re-check mental checklist for the sake of checking: check.

Splatter head with paint spell trying to physically put a checkmark on mental checklist: giggle.

Notice faint blue light receding into thrice-marked beryl corridor: wait… what?

This was new. In the dark and the dank, new is good. New means hope. Twilight allowed herself a measure of hope and cantered after the anomaly. As mysterious lights go, this one set quite a pace. The will-o-wisps at Froggy Bottom Bog could use some lessons from this one. Sharp left, increase pace, upward slope, breathe. Twilight’s breaths were greedy and grasping, taking all the oxygen they could and demanding more as her canter became a gallop and the beryl became calcite. Soft right, level floor, chase the light. Twilight was struggling. Foraging for moss and making checklists uncounted hours a day were not activities conducive to increasing one’s running prowess. Another upward slope and she was gaining. Could lights get tired? No matter, she kept to the chase. Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, breathe, ache.

Twilight couldn’t remember the last time she’d pushed herself so hard. Everything hurt, and the ground struck her hooves a little harder with every bound. Left, up, hop over the stalagmite. Twilight let a little more hope in, almost smiling. Stalagmites meant she was approaching the surface. It was younger rock, yet to blossom into the crystals so prevalent further below. She could hardly believe it. Freedom was just a little bit farther; she could feel it in her bones. The light was a true friend. Faster, faster, keep up with your new friend. Twilight could have sworn she felt a cool, fresh breeze from somewhere ahead. Time for a celebration! She turned her face and blew a raspberry at the miserable caverns she had left behind. She was so happy then, that she forgot to pay attention to the path ahead. Young rock or old, a stalagmite will still play royal hell on one’s skull if they run into it full-tilt. Hello, darkness, not my friend.

As always, Twilight awoke. It had passed repetitive and come out the other side. Groggy and sore, she wished for the merciful numbness she was sure decapitation could bring. Her head felt like cotton candy soaked in boiling chocolate milk. Stretching her neck and joints, Twilight got back on her hooves and took stock of her surroundings through half-lidded eyes. At least she would have, had there been any surroundings. Beneath her was the same rocky ground she had become so accustomed to, but above her and to each side, there was only soft blue light. At least it didn’t leave me behind.

“Twilight.”

A voice! It was a stallion’s voice, young adult and without accent or affectation. He sounded rather bored, though. Twilight snapped her head towards the direction she had been hailed from, regretting it immediately as her headache intensified. Better respond. Don’t let him leave without you. She licked her dry lips, and long-unused vocal cords were put to work.

“Hhhhchk?”

That was embarrassing. Come on, you can’t forget how to talk. I haven’t been alone that long.

“Hhh’loh?”

Close enough. He had to have heard me. The little ground around her led upwards through the blue void like a bridge. She could see the underside of a round landmass from her position.

“Come, Twilight. Let’s talk.”

Easier said than done. I have a feeling I’ll be doing more listening. It’ll be worth it if it gets me out of here. Twilight steeled herself and traversed the floating bridge.

Upon reaching the top, Twilight was taken aback. Where there had always been rock and the occasional crystal fragments, this new area was covered in pure white flagstones, precisely cut and fitted. Just like the palace at Cante… No. She squeezed her eyes shut. Not now. Focus on the present. There are more immediate things to worry about. She sniffed and opened her eyes, then widened them in surprise.

“There’s no need to cry any longer, Twilight. You have my word that the worst is over. Fate dealt you a losing hand, but you aren’t out of chips quite yet.”

The words, sounding bored beyond belief, came from an earth pony that had appeared before her. Brown coat, dark brown mane, and a face that looked unimpressed but not unkind. He had no mark, but Twilight was more taken by his eyes. White sclerae are a fact of life for all ponies. His were as black as the deepest reaches of the crystal caverns. Then again, I should be more concerned about the fact that he’s floating.

“Hhhow?” Twilight managed to choke out, her self-consciousness overruled by sheer fascination.

The strange pony tilted his head to the side.

“Make no mistake, Twilight Sparkle, I am not one of you. In countless worlds, countless are my forms. I have been a winged serpent, a whale, and a descendant of apes. In all worlds, I am called The Outsider, and this world is mine: The Void. I have drawn you here because your world is in turmoil, and you will serve a purpose in fast-approaching times, as you have before. You alone were not fooled by a vicious creature masquerading as an old friend. Your stake is personal and I offer you my gift.”

At this, Twilight’s right fore-hoof began to burn. She cried out, and lifted it to her face. A black scar, all spikes, curves, and utterly unnatural had appeared on the underside, a wisp of smoke blowing away in a breeze she couldn’t feel. She set her jaw and glared at the earth pony, waiting for his explanation.

“This mark grants you power that other ponies will never know. You will need it, and you will soon know why. For now, return to your world, and prepare yourself. Your time in the darkness is nearing its end. You will face challenges, doubts, and determine for yourself just what kind of pony you are. Be well; I will be watching.”

Twilight’s eyes widened once more as the “Outsider” dissolved before her eyes, and then everything began to swim and swirl before going black.

Twilight awoke. The first thing she saw was yet another crystal, and her eyes began to moisten again. Just a dream, maybe a dying hallucination. Am I starving? Dehydrated? She raised her hoof to wipe her eyes when she saw it; the mark. It was still on her hoof. It was real. “I will need it, and I’ll soon know why….” That statement made little sense, considering there was little that her horn couldn’t do, but it remained at the forefront of her thoughts as she picked her way along the path she had been following. Never mind, there’s that breeze again! Watch your step this time! Twilight perked up and forced herself to hurry, making sure to avoid any obstacles, her lingering headache a reminder that the cave was not to be mocked. The scent of daffodils reached her nose, and her stomach gurgled. Yes! So close!

With a wheeze, Twilight banked around a corner and almost sobbed with joy. Sunlight. Glorious, life-giving midday sunlight saturated the passage she had entered. The nightmare was over. She breathed deeply and truly smiled for the first time in her recent memory.

“Fff…Fff…Free?” she said, and walked into the light.