As Dim made his way through the woods, slinking from shadow to shadow, he was not alone. The voice of his dear, dead sister sang to him as was so often the case when he was by himself, and she sang loud and clear even without the usual mind-altering substances polluting his blood. She was his Geist der Qual, his punishment, and her keening song tore fresh new scratches into Dim’s already wounded heart that made him ache for the sweet release of coca or opium.

The hills were alive with the sounds of trolls. Slow moving and stupid at night, Dim knew to avoid them and evade them if he could, or stun and run if he couldn’t. He had to conserve his magic as much as possible while he made his way to the Jaguar Witch, who was holed up in an old guard tower that stood near what used to be a profitable gold mine. Now, it was a home for bats, and filled with a veritable fortune of batshit, a never-ending source of wealth just so long as one cared for the bats.

As he darted from one copse of trees to another, he glanced up at the moon and thought about how it might have been his. The thought was terrifying, unwelcomed, and made his heart race even harder. His sister’s haunting voice moved with him, crooning some tale of tragic love gone wrong.

“I'm young, I know, but even so, I know a thing or two. I learned from you, I really learned a lot, really learned a lot. Love is like a flame, it burns you when it's hot. Love hurts.. ooh love hurts—”

“Shut up, Darling, I am trying to sneak past trolls,” Dim whispered to the expansive nothingness around him, which paled in comparison to the nothingness within.

“You burned me, Dim… your love was like a flame and I was like a moth… why’d you have to burn me, Dim?”

“Because, as I seem to recall, you were being a real bitch at the time.”

“I just wanted to love you, Dim… why didn’t you try to save me?” she asked in a wailing, sing-song voice.

Taking cover behind a tree, Dim sucked in a deep breath as sweat began pouring down his sides and debris from the ground stuck to his damp frogs. He shivered and could feel his eyeballs vibrating in their sockets. Blood seemed to gurgle through the veins in his neck and the muscles in his thin legs quivered. Why didn’t he try to save her?

“Your foal was in my womb when you killed me,” Darling said in a sweet, alluring whisper that Dim longed to feel against his ear.

This made him recoil and he squeezed his eyes shut, a dangerous thing indeed when one was surrounded by an army of trolls. When he went to respond, a body-wracking sob came out instead, followed by an inequine screech of pain and rage. That just couldn’t be true, it couldn’t, and he didn’t want to believe the dreadful words of his dead sister. It was a trick, it was all a trick, and this was a nightmare—

Except it wasn’t.

Dim knew that he was wide awake, and he opened his eyes, wary of trolls.

“Throw yourself to the trolls, Dim, and it will be all over in seconds. Once you die, you and I can be together… forever. Mother has seen to that. Mother saw this coming and she prepared for this, Dim. Come to us, Dim, and let us end your pain, the pain of living. It grows unbearable, does it not?”

Try as he might, Dim could not ignore the chilling voice or its alluring siren’s call.

The pain of living was unbearable, there was no denying that. He took off, gritting his teeth together, and wondering what it might be like to die at the disgusting claws of trolls. Addictions were their own special kind of pain, he knew this to be fact, and right now, Dim understood that he was going through Darling withdrawals. He was in need of a fix—a relapse sounded fine right now—and he needed some of that sweet, sweet poison pumping through his veins.

“Trouble, oh trouble can't you see… you have made me a wreck, now won't you leave me in my misery. I've seen your eyes, and I can see death's disguise… hangin' on me… hangin' on me…”

Sometimes, Darling could be a right cunt.

“I'm beat, I'm torn, shattered and tossed and worn. Too shocking to see... too shocking to see. Trouble, oh trouble move from me. I have paid my debt, now won't you leave me in my misery. Trouble, oh trouble please be kind. I don't want no fight and I haven't got a lot of time.”

Distracted from the danger around him, Dim hurried along and his entire body was soaked with sweat. He shivered and the need for something to end his pain was an electric current that crackled through his nerves, making him jerk and twitch like a marionette connected to a clumsy puppetmaster.

“I watched you suffer a dull, aching pain. Now you decided to show me the same. No sweeping exits or offstage lines, could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind.”

For a moment, Dim considered throwing himself to the trolls. It was preferable to this. Was this to be his fate every time that he was alone? Where was the pink voice in his head to save him? He had sensed her earlier. Was this all he had to look forward to in life? His sister crooning her songs of the damned?

“Wild ponies couldn't drag me away… wild, wild ponies, couldn't drag me away. I know I dreamed you, a sin and a lie… I have my freedom, but I don't have much time. Faith has been broken, tears must be cried… let's do some living after we die. Wild ponies couldn't drag me away…”

So that was it then, an entire night of this, this torment that would continue until he snapped or killed himself, or maybe snapped and killed himself. Either way, this did not bode well and such a distraction could prove fatal in a battle involving magic. Perhaps death was preferable, perhaps inevitable. If he could not get the sweet release of a fix, perhaps he could could get the sweet release of the big sleep.

What end might come?

Ahead was a meadow, a broad coverless expanse devoid of trees. In the moonlight, Dim could see troll patrols moving back and forth, an unnatural sight indeed. His sister was still singing her tormented lullabies of the damned, and his loathing of her had grown by a magnitude. His heart sank when he realised that he had no easy way to move forward. He was already suffering some physical exhaustion and there was some mental fatigue as well. Perhaps it was time to turn back.

Or was it?

There was a meandering river that flowed through the meadow; broad and deep, it went in the direction that he needed to go. Looking at it gave him ideas, mad ideas, but that was okay because he was already mad, having suffered a serenading sibling. Scowling, he plucked his silver cigarette holder from his lips, held it out in front of his face, and examined it while thinking of the river.

Sometimes, it was good to be mad.

The silver stem was about two feet or so in length, long enough to keep smoke away from the face and eyes. Long enough even to keep smoke from rising into the brim of his hat. But was it long enough to be used as a snorkel? Well, there was only one way to find that out and Dim moved to make the great discovery.

Sweating, shivering, burning up with a fever while also freezing, Dim plunged into the summer-warmed water of the river with a splash. Rocks wobbled beneath his hooves and threatened to snap his weak fetlocks. A broken leg right now would be awful indeed, and would make him an easy meal for trolls. The fast flowing water was clear and when he was in a little bit deeper, he felt both sand and rocks beneath his hooves.

Fish passed by his legs and the fine hairs of his tail began to separate in the water. Holding his cigarette holder in his lips, he allowed himself to submerge, and then found that he could breathe just fine, much to his own surprise. The flow of the river pushed against his backside, coaxing him along, and the rush of water filled his ears, drowning out the siren song of his sister.

Only a madpony would attempt this and Dim was up for the task. He went a little deeper only to find that the riverbed was mostly sand and small, smooth pebbles that tickled his frogs. The voice of his sister was now muffled, drowned out by the fast-flowing river. Submerged, Dim resumed his walk and did his best to relax a little.

A fight was coming and he needed to be at his best.

A strange silence worried Dim as he stood dripping behind the cover of a pile of boulders. No singing sister, no song, no nothing. For some reason, it was even more unsettling and distracting than hearing her keening wails. Even though it was silent, he was not alone, no, he wasn’t alone. Something was here with him, watching him. The Jaguar Witch? It was possible. He might be outmatched. The witch might even have magic that somehow kept his sister away, if such a thing was possible.

A shake as well as a bit of magic left him almost dry and Dim realised that he wasn’t trembling as bad as he had been. Perhaps the long soak in the river had been good for him. Lazy clouds lingered in front of the moon, robbing the night of brilliant, silvery moonlight. It was dark, dark, and this suited Dim just fine. He saw everything in perfect detail in the faint light that was available.

In the distance, the tower loomed and from a crumbling window near the top floor he saw the warm orange glow of fire. He thought about making the fight start right now, because he could make that source of fire—whatever it might be—blossom like a bloom in spring. But there was no guarantee that his sudden fireball would burn anything.

With a great deal of caution, Dim began to check for wards, knowing that he was bound to find some spell protection. Abyssinians had lots of attack magic, but he wasn’t certain if they had much ward magic. Wards were the specialty of unicorns, for the most part, but other creatures could (and did) cast them.

This left Dim at an disadvantage, as he did not know nearly enough about his foe, neither magic nor habit. Swearing under his breath, he began casting his own wards, starting off with the usual protections; Steelguard, which would turn away non-magical iron and steel weapons from his flesh, numerous spell protections, immunity to fire, protection from lightning, protection from cold, and Platinum’s Vanguard, which would increase his magic resistance to a considerable level.

While Dim was not the most powerful of wizards, he was educated and he was prepared. This was usually enough of an advantage to see him through most fights, but that was against other unicorns and disgusting primitives who lacked his impressive education. Hearing a roaring crackle, Dim was quick to discover that he was not the only one with an education.

Charging right for him was a lamassu made of fire, a conjured elemental familiar. Dim only knew what a lamassu was because of his considerable education; it had a lion’s body, (or sometimes an ox) the wings of a bird, and the head of a wizened, wrinkly ape, sort of like the centaurs did. This one was made entirely of flame and it was charging down the hill from the tower, running right for him.

Of course Dim made the most apropos response for the situation: “Oh shit.”

He could dispel it, but that would be draining and might give the Jaguar Witch some indication of his relative strength. He was immune to fire at the moment, but if the elemental familiar had a psychokinetic element to it, it would do physical damage as well. This was as life-threatening as it was thrilling, and all thoughts of Dim’s troubles had fled his mind.

With the lamassu drawing far too close, Dim made a grudging decision, he summoned an inferno devil, a flaming variant of the dust devil. It was a draining spell to be sure, but it gave him an ally and it would keep the elemental familiar busy. The inferno devil let out a terrifying moan as it manifested and then it went whirling away to do battle with the charging, flaming lamassu.

As the inferno devil traveled over the ground, it picked up both dust and magic, gained strength, and grew in size. The funnel started off small, but had doubled its breadth and height in no time, and would only get larger as it devoured the flames of the lamassu. Dim knew that he had made a good choice. With the lamassu nullified, he turned his attention to the old crumbling guard tower.

Author's Notes:

If you don't know, Google it.