An immense pressure bore on her head as she slowly awoke from her midday slumber, her daydreams gradually fading away from her mind. Reality sunk in, and she found herself awake. Dim candle light shone all around her, and it pierced her eyes, worse than a thousand needles ever could. Her mental screams sounded that of countless condemned souls, shrieking for freedom.
For the past week, Cadence had been suffering from a terminal fever and headache. Nonstop agony. It was miserable.
She groaned in pain as she tried getting up, only to collapse on her own weight. Falling had heavily distorted her vision, but it quickly swam back into focus. She wish it hadn’t. Waking up to the same monotony display of crystal was dismal and …show more content…
She lay there, drinking in her surroundings.
A dark cave. A lonely cave. A bare cave. No place to spend six years of a life.
Cadence remembered the day how this all happened.
Six years ago, an ancient totem had promised her great prosperity for her and her kingdom, as well as a greater mana talent ever devised; and while that did hold true, Cadence never agreed with what it had to offer since it was inessential to her. She was already a great ruler, a great practicer of the magic arts and defence against the dark arts, and her life was perfect—that was until it bore her with its darkness, even though she rejected all, forever changing her.
Cadence forcefully smiled at all she had lost and gained.
She lay sprawled on her bed, turned to her left, and read the time. 7:43. For the first time in months, she had awoke on her own volition. No dark voices echoing in her head, no nightmares haunting her, telling her to get up, no illusory beings clawing at her. That was the norm for her, a ritual conducted morning by one of them. Waking up on her own almost made her genuinely …show more content…
No spell, potion, or even the totem could remedy the irreversible damage.
“I hate you, Shining Armor. I’ll get my revenge on you one day. Mark my words.”
A multitude of fallen ponies, subjected to a tyrant’s ruthless act of bloodshed, lay in a pool of blood; a weeping white stallion, sitting in the midst of his slaughtered subjects, wished he wasn’t spared by his cursed wife.
Cadence grinned disturbingly. Her fangs lined the side of her mouth, and anger enkindled itself ruthlessly before a burst of mirthless laughter, a sinister cackle, echoed in the cave of perpetual crystal; and then…silence, along with the afterthought of renditioning retribution.
An angry fang-filled grin. A mirthless peal of laughter, resonating through and through. Cadence had wished Shining had killed her on that day; at least then she would be resting in peace, rather than suffering an agony worse than death—alone in self-imprisonment in utter torment and