Winter stood in the lobby of the Inn, her heart shattered. Ink took a deep breath, standing in the cold air outside. He glanced up at the stars, but quickly looked away. What interest did they hold with him?

Inside, Radiant smiled at her handiwork – A mare in ruins, and a pony gone dark. If she managed this much havoc, how much more could she spread with her power? She sighed inwardly, however. “My work here is done. I’ve fulfilled my contract.”

Winter glanced at the mare. Contract?

Radiant shut her eyes, glowing black. Suddenly, there was a bright flash, forcing Winter to close her eyes tightly. When she opened them again, she was surprised to see a small, cowering pegasus in place of the dark alicorn. Her mane now curled softly, it hung over her eye, hiding it from view. Her eyes were the only things that remained of the Shadow before, and even then, the redness was softened ever so slightly. Winter knew exactly who the mare was. She didn’t give a shit.

Radiant Shine shook, staring at the pony who had every right to despise her. “O-oh m-my god…” Her voice was soft and airy, but shook with her fright. “I-I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I c-couldn’t stop her-“

“WELL TOO BAD,” Winter screamed, taking a step towards the mare. She was in a rage, infuriated. “THE DAMAGE IS ALREADY DONE!” With that, the cutie mark on her side vanished completely.

Outside, in the alleyway, Ink winced. Inside himself, he felt something slip. Something needed to be fixed. Something he had done in the past needed to happen again. But he didn’t know what. Shaking his head, he continued walking, ignoring the small pain in his chest.

“I-I tried to fight her,” Radiant said, backing away from the mare. “I-I’m sorry,” she kept muttering, trying to keep her head down.

“I don’t give a flying fuck.”

Inkwell reached the outside of the Inn, looking at the wall. He pulled out the knife from earlier, cutting his hoof lightly. Black ink dripped from his hoof. He smeared the ink on the wall before him, sketching out a door, crafted well. The door then appeared, sunken into the wall slightly. He shuddered as he felt the cut heal, but reached forward his hoof and took hold of the knob. He turned it and opened the door to a nicely sized room, simply furnished as a room in the inn would be. He realized dimly that the room was far bigger on the inside, seeing as it technically rested within the walls of the Inn. Shutting the door behind him, he walked to the wall opposite the door and leaned against it, sliding down in his weariness. When did I get so exhausted?

“I-it’s fine,” he heard Winter say. His eyes widened slightly as he realized he could hear into the lobby. “It’s okay… It’s all fine!” He heard her laugh slightly. “P-Page is upstairs and everything is fine!” He sighed, realizing with a small pang of regret that the mare inside was insane. “S-see!? W-why aren’t you happy?!?”

“Y-you poor mare…” Ink’s eyes widened further as he realized Radiant’s voice had changed. It rang like a bell, soft and clear. She’s returned to who she used to be…

“P-Poor?! I-I’m the happiest mare ever!” Inside, a horrible, terrible smile took up Winter’s face. She was forcing herself to smile, forcing the world to be okay again. Her husband wasn’t gone – No, he was just asleep. He was just resting.

In his room, Ink felt more pain in his chest. Suddenly, it was as though a channel from his old heart had opened to his mind. He shut his eyes softly, and spoke. He realized that if he could hear them, then they could hear him. His voice sounded almost exactly like Page's. “If… I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain…” What am I saying now? Reassuring her of my death? Why am I even speaking?

“P-Pagey?!” He heard her turn, but it didn’t matter to him.

“Cutting drawings with knives… it’s all the same.”

“P-Pagey, I knew you would come back to me! W-where are you?!”

“I know your heart is beating, Winter.” She stopped as he said her name. “For now, I am away.” A soft sob. “But the… love… I feel for you… It’ll ALWAYS be real.”

“W-why don’t you come back now, Pagey?...”

“I will come back soon, my dear… I-I will…” He felt tears rolling down his face slowly, unsure as to what exactly had caused them. Within, he felt like his heart was breaking for this poor mare – Only one. The other beat on, uncaring. Something deep inside me is stirring for this mare… I think it’s him. The one she thinks is me. I think… am I not real?

With that sobering thought, everything suddenly made sense. Of course he wasn’t real. He was simply Ink. A drawing, a sketch of a real pony – A cover up of the artwork beneath him. He realized with shattering clarity and in seconds that there was no true way to fix that either. Cutting himself away would resolve in him killing this mare’s husband. That deep, stirring part of him would never allow that. Nopony would be able to erase the drawing above without erasing the drawing below. It was hopeless. His entire existence was hopeless.

It was a sobering thought. And that was all it was.

“Treat the kids well,” he heard himself say on autopilot. The pony inside him was speaking, the last sparkling remnants of him still shining through the black ink that overlaid his own flesh. “And wipe that fake smile off your face,” he added, recalling the fake smile she used to have, way back when they had first met – when she had tried to mask her pain. “I-I always loved your true smile,” Ink heard himself lie. I don’t know this mare. I’ve never seen her truly smile. “Keep smiling for me and the kids.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Ink looked at the slender scar on his hoof. There has to be one gift I can make for her… One single thing that I can do to heal her sorrow…

The answer came to him quickly. After all, hadn’t all of this stemmed from pain? All that can heal this is even more pain… He drew his knife once more, cutting his hoof, wincing as the bloody ink ran from the wound once more. Shaping it with his magic, he soon held a fully bloomed, jet – black rose in his hooves. A black rose… the color symbolizing death… Fitting, for a corpse like me. That’s all I am, after all. A shade. A corpse. A shadow of the pony I once was. “You will understand someday soon, my Love.” With a spark of his horn, he teleported the rose a short way away, letting it rest in Winter’s mane. She gasped softly, and somehow, Ink knew her tears had slowly begun to stop falling. “I love you always, my Impossible Winter…” The only Winter in which the petals of Love can bloom… That was how he would describe her… “P-promise me you will never forget that,” he finished, echoing the words he had repeated all night. Once with undying love, the second with cold harshness, and the third with regret and remorse.

“Okay, dear,” was the response through the wall.

“Sleep well, Winter. I will be with you, now and always.” He heard her slowly ascend the stairs. He sighed softly, his tears falling, cold as the namesake of the mare he shed them for. Then, he heard another voice – Soft, like a bell. Her…

“Page,” Radiant whispered, her own eyes full of tears. “I’m… s-so so sorry… I never meant-“

“Get away from the wall, Radiant.” He shut his eyes tightly, fury boiling his blood. “I don’t care if you’re Shine again or not. You did this to me… You did this to him… You caused all of this to happen… So just fuck off for awhile.” With that, he heard a soft sob, the fluttering of wings, and knew he was alone. As a corpse is meant to be.

Winter dimly realized she had reached her bed. Her eyes were red from her crying. She heard her children, fast asleep, knowing they didn’t know what had happened – No. Nothing had happened. Page was just – away. He was just away right now, on very very important business. Princess Celestia herself needed his advice about the dark alic- the meteor that had struck Ponyville. “P-pagey will be back soon,” she said with a hideous smile. “He’ll be fine.” She lied down softly, not caring about the tears that dampened her pillow. She didn’t need to care about them. She only cared about Page.

Winter shut her eyes, and her dream was simple – Her husband held her softly, whispering sweet tidings in her ear, each accompanied with a nuzzle or a soft kiss. Her rest was soft and light, yet fulfilling all the same. Those in delusions lived in a nightmare – Only when their eyes shut and their brains rested did their true desires become fulfilled.

Inkwell curled up in his own bed, provided by the room in its creation. He watched the ceiling, gazing at the black pattern intently, not quite taking in its appearance. He sighed and shut his eyes, and drifted off into the dreamless sleep that accompanied all untroubled men to their beds – Indeed, a corpse could not be troubled.

In her room, Radiant wiped away her tears. She looked in the mirror, but her reflection was not her own – It was a monster, dark with a horn, that gazed back at her. Shaking her head in fright, she turned and lied down in her bed. She shut her eyes, but her dreams were fitful and dark – Full of nightmares most foul, and unable to escape the tiredness that wore at her bones. For, as much as she wished otherwise, she had committed a terrible crime – the loss of a loved one. Truly, she was a victim as well as a monster. Her nightmares made this apparent.

Only one pony did not rest this night. He walked out of the Inn, stretching his wings for a small flight. They had begun to grow stiff in the cold winter air. His blind eyes swept the clear night sky, coming to rest on the moon. “Well, old friend,” he said to the moon, smiling softly. “Things have gone to hell, haven’t they.” He sighed, looking then down the alley way where Ink had departed. “I suppose now, it’s time for them to come back. ‘To hell and back’ is the saying, correct?” With a brisk laugh, Card Trick took to the night, flying through the air. He would have much work to do soon – and why not enjoy what time you have left?

As Page had shown them all, time was a valuable thing – and as Radiant had shown, it was taken away rather quickly.