A stinging light mauls Apple Bloom's baggy eyes when she crawls out of a tight burrow. She squints her eyes at the light gray landscape that stretches far and wide, stopping at the base of towering pale mountains shrouded in fog. She looks to the side and sees the occasional warped plant of gray and brown, and she looks to the other side and sees the same thing.

Apple Bloom shivers and tugs her cloak tighter around herself, thankful for the warmth it is giving her, and she looks at the sky and frowns at the gray clouds blocking the sun. Rays of light still breach it, but what light goes through is weak while somehow managing to bring pain.

Sighing, Apple Bloom sits on a stump outside of her burrow and gently pulls out the Amulet of the King from her pouch. It feels heavier than it did the previous day, and shinier, too. Her thumb rub the smooth obsidian surface and her reflection stares back at her from the glassy surface of the ruby stone. As she rubs it, she noticing the pitch black lines on her marked hand. They outline her bones and stop shy of her knuckles.

She stops massaging the Amulet and looks at the lines. She feels nothing from staring at her hand. She wants to feel something, she wants to remember how she mutilated that beast that nearly drowned Applejack, but there is a void in her and all she can see is her victim propped off the ground with the numerous ice spires impaling him and his blood flowing into the water.

Apple Bloom closes her eyes and squeezes the Amulet tight in her hand. A freezing breeze tears into her ears, so she flips the hood over her head and hunches over, gripping the Amulet all the tighter. Her heart beats heavier, her lungs suck in blocks of ice, and her fur stands up from the cold breaching her cloak and thick clothing, bringing her to momentarily wish she was a pegasus. They always had thicker fur, despite being the thinnest of the pony races, so they would be able to handle this weather, which brings her to another wish.

Why her? Why couldn't it be Scootaloo that got stuck with this cursed object? That troublemaker is tougher than her tenfold, has nothing except for a stupid shack, and she also has no fear. She just does things!

But then again, is Scootaloo still an “is” or is she now a “was”? What happened to her? What happened to Sweetie Belle? To Spike? To Applejack? To everybody else? Did they survive? Or did they wind up like Twilight, Twist and Button?

“Questions, questions. So many questions,” says the Shadow Foaling.

Apple Bloom cracks her eyes open and barely lifts her head to look at the specter in front of her. Its grin is wide as always, and its tattered dress floats in the wind like cloth submerged in water.

“Are you tired, Apple Bloom? You can't be tired. How can you find me if you're tired?” asks the Shadow Foaling.

Apple Bloom blinks, and the Shadow Foaling is gone, and in its place is Pipsqueak bundled up and scanning the landscape. Apple Bloom blinks again, but the Shadow Foaling does not return, and when she looks at her hand, all she sees is the marking, but no black lines. This gives her heart a pause, and she holds her hand up to her eyes, turning it this way and that in search for any signs of the blackness.

“Are you feeling okay?” asks Pipsqueak. “You were in your own world for a while.”

Apple Bloom lowers her hand and shakes her head as she looks at the cracking ground.

“I haven't been feeling okay ever since I got this stupid Amulet,” says Apple Bloom.

Pipsqueak nods, approaches Apple Bloom and puts his hand on her shoulder, bringing her to look at him without lifting her head.

“We'll get through this. I promise,” says Pipsqueak. “Twilight would not have put this on you if she didn't think you could handle it.”

“What if Twilight made a mistake?” asks Apple Bloom.

“She wouldn't make a mistake about this.” Pipsqueak takes a step back and motions towards a cook set up, with the pot hanging above a small fire circled by stones. “Would you like some breakfast?”

Apple Bloom nods, smiling thinly, and Pipsqueak holds out his hand to her. She grips it tight and lets him pull her up. She doesn't know if the little guy has gotten stronger, or if she has gotten weaker, but her getting pulled up was easier for her companion than normally. She remembers how back in the peaceful days Pipsqueak would be given trouble for being small and frail and needing others to do most manual labor for him. How the times have changed.

Apple Bloom sits in front of the cooking station, swallowing drool as the scent of oatmeal and cinnamon fills her nose.

“Oatmeal? Really?” teases Apple Bloom.

Pipsqueak shrugs and scoops out a bowl for her. “I figured with the piles of snow around here it will be easy to clean. Just put the snow in the bot and watch it go from ice to boiling water and we clean it out that way.”

“Did you do this a lot?” asks Apple Bloom, thanking him when he gives her a bowl of oatmeal.

“No. This is the first time I've been on a quest to destroy an amulet with the power to end all life,” says Pipsqueak.

Apple Bloom giggles weakly. “You know what I mean.”

“I know. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I did do this camping a lot with Button...” Pipsqueak's voice trails off and he looks at his bowl, hands shaking and eyes misting over. “He hated oatmeal.”

Apple Bloom's smile fades and she looks down, still hungry, but not sure if she should be eating now.

“I'm sorry,” she says, blinking tears out of her eyes.

“For what?” asks Pipsqueak.

“For getting your friend killed.”

“Oh... I... I don't think you need to beat yourself up over what happened. You have enough on your shoulders and... well, we just have to move on. Destroying that Amulet will be more than enough to avenge him and the others, so let's focus on that, okay?”

Apple Bloom nods, and the two eat in silence.

After they finish eating, they wash out the dishes using the snow and towels, and after they finish washing they let the towels dry above the smoldering wood. Once those are dried they pack up and head down the plains, passing dead shrub, broken trees and piles of snow. Some of the trees look like skeletal bodies fused together, screaming faces and twisted limbs permanently prettified.

“That's unsettling,” says Pipsqueak.

Apple Bloom silently agrees, and they keep walking in silence for a few more hours before they come across a white brick building with a tower. Its roof is well kept with bright red shingles, a large stable is off to the side and smoke billows from a row of chimneys and light shines from the cracks of the shudders.

The two stop and look at each other, then at the building before them.

“Was that there before?” asks Pipsqueak.

“I don't remember seeing it there,” says Apple Bloom.

They look at each other again, then in wordless agreement they head to the building, steps in sync with each other, and once they approach the heavy wooden door they see a sign above it that reads: Oculus Inn.

They take a deep breath and Pipsqueak opens the door. Immediately, the two are greeted by a burst of warm air, great smells, and laughter and warm light. They peek inside and see a clean lobby that is not too crowded by happy travelers sitting at round tables with circles of candles, all wearing worn clothing and having their bags by their feet. Though, despite their ratty state, each traveler is relaxed, and there are a variety of them, too. From mares to stallions, and earth ponies to pegasi and unicorns, and even a couple of creatures that Apple Bloom has not seen before (such as an eagle-lion hybrid biped chatting with a pegasus), all of them are blessed with a carefree environment. Even the simply dressed waitresses dropping off the food at the tables carry smiles and walk lightly. And on a stage, with a glowing horn and surrounded by candles is a young black furred unicorn mare with a silver mane that goes down the length of her shoulder and covers one of her yellow eyes; she is wearing a sleeveless brown dress with a thick black padding that hugs her neck as a collar and covers her shoulders and thighs. Her dress has a V-cut that exposes part of her chest, plus an opening in front that partially displays the pants beneath it, and the dress goes down to her ankles. Strapped around her waist is a large belt, and covering the lower half of her legs is a large pair of black boots with silver buckles that lock the straps in place.

The dress really does hug the mare's figure in a way that Apple Bloom has no idea how it can possibly be comfortable, but if it is the job of the dress to invoke lust, then it is working if Pipsqueak's wide eyes and near drooling is any indication. The way the dress hugs the mare's ribs and emphasizes her chest and thighs, coupled with her swaying and admittedly wonderful voice, it is no secret as to how she is able to put Pipsqueak -and the nearby stallions- in a trance. Still, a nudge in the ribs is in order, so that's what Apple Bloom does, snapping Pipsqueak out of his trances.

“Ow. What?” says Pipsqueak.

“Let's find the boss and figure out what this place is,” says Apple Bloom.

“Or we can ask her,” says Pipsqueak, jabbing his thumb to the singing mare.

Apple Bloom frowns. “Or we can ask somepony else.”

“She looks like she's been here for a while.”

“We ain't here to flirt.”

“I'm not going to flirt! I don't even know how to do that!”

Apple Bloom rolls her eyes and walks ahead, searching for any sign of anybody she can talk to other than the singing mare whose melody is very hard to ignore.

Apple Bloom keeps walking with Pipsqueak in tow, but she can see the unicorn watching them, and she smiles with lidded eyes and keeps singing.

Apple Bloom scrunches her face and stops by an empty table and looks around some more. Pipsqueak has taken a seat at the empty table and watches the singer with a dopey smile, and Apple Bloom waves him off and spots a unicorn stallion nearby, leaning against the wall and turning a coin between his fingers. He is older than the mare, has burgundy fur with a combed brown mane and gray eyes. He is wearing a purple tunic with gold cuffs and brown boots, and next to him is a slender sword with a golden handle sheathed in a black case that has a golden tip. His horn is glowing, too, but that is because he is using his magic to stir a steaming cup of tea.

“You need something, little one?” asks the stallion.

His voice is smooth and stern, and the suddenness of it gives Apple Bloom a start, but after she calms herself down she cautiously approaches him.

“Are you the owner of this place?” asks Apple Bloom.

“I am,” he says.

“Oh, that's good. I hate to be problematic, but I was wondering if you can sell me and my friend supplies.”

“That depends. What supplies do you need?”

“Food and medicine. We're on a long trip and need as much as we can carry.”

“Where are your parents?”

“We ain't kids. We're foalings.”

The stallion stops the coin in his hand. “Foalings? Now that's interesting. You look like you can use more than food and medicine. You look like you can use rest. I will gladly give you a room free of charge for three nights to help make your trip easier.”

“Oh no, you don't have to do that.”

“I insist, Miss....?”

“Honeycrisp...”

“Honeycrisp?”

Apple Bloom nods.

“Ms. Honeycrisp, I will help you as much as I can,” says the stallion. “A good friend of mine is actually coming in three days to deliver supplies and I know he will give you a ride of great distance.”

“That's mighty kind of you, Mister.”

The stallion smirks. “You may call me Oculus, and that mare that you envy, is Thelxiepeia. You have nothing to fear from her. She is mine and I am hers, and we have no intention of changing that. Please sit and enjoy the comforts. I will get you sorted out.”

Apple Bloom thanks him and sits next to Pipsqueak. He is still entranced by the mare, but Apple Bloom decides not to say anything. They are here to relax and resupply, and if him watching the mare brings him to a state of comfort than so be it.

Apple Bloom looks around the room, watching the patrons laugh and chat and eat, but the more she watches them, the more uneasy she becomes. She does not know what it is, but they seem off. They appear to be stuck in a pattern. Talking the same, eating the same, lifting their glasses the same. Even the waitresses are moving in a set pattern.

She swallows and grabs Pipsqueak's shoulder. “I think we should go.”

“Why?” asks Pipsqueak. “Its warm here and the music is nice. I bet they have good food, too.”

“I don't like it. Something ain't right.”

“Hello!” says a sweet voice.

Apple Bloom's fingers dig into the table, and with a cautious frown she looks at the speaker, who just happens to be the singer, Thelxiepeia. Pipsqueak, however, is the exact opposite with his broad smile and glittering eyes.

“Oh, hi! You got a pretty voice,” says Pipsqueak.

Apple Bloom turns her frown to him, her ears now splayed back and her hands barely held back from grabbing him and dragging him out the door.

“Thank you,” giggles Thelxiepeia. She gently scratches the thin layer of scruffy fur on Pipsqueak's cheek. “You have such an adorable accent. Where are you from?”

“Green-”

“Nowhere,” interrupts Apple Bloom. “We're from nowhere and were actually getting ready to leave.”

Apple Bloom's eyes flick past Thelxiepeia and sees the patrons are still stuck in their puppet motions, and she looks at the mare when she speaks with a purr in her voice, her finger now tracing Pipsqueak's jaw and her eyes on Apple Bloom.

“Leaving? But you just got here,” says Thelxiepeia. “I saw you walk in. Cold, tired, hungry. You two are far from home aren't you?”

“Very far,” says Pipsqueak.

“But we're going, anyway,” says Apple Bloom.

“I also saw you talking to my husband, and I am sure he already told you who I am,” says Thelxiepeia. “But you and your friend may call me Tia. Everypony else does. And we take care of everypony that walks in here, like one big family.”

A smiling waitress then approaches their table and drops off a couple of bowls of thick, hot soup filled with potatoes, carrots and noodles and green bits. It smells good, unfortunately, and it brings Apple Bloom's mouth the water. Though, she restrains herself, even though Pipsqueak does not. He gorges himself like a slob, leaving food to splatter on the table, and Apple Bloom's eyes flick to her sword, Angurvadal, noting the blue glow coming from its sheath. Her eyes then drift up to Tia's, and while she is still smiling, Apple Bloom sees the malice in her exposed eye. A very hungry look of a starving beast patiently waiting for their prey to lose their guard stares back at her.

Apple Bloom's hands shake, her throat becomes dry and stuffy, and every beat of her heart pushes out droplets of sweat that coats her neck and forehead as she attempts to discretely draw her blade.

“What's wrong, Honeycrisp?” asks Tia.

Pipsqueak suddenly collapses and flops to the floor, and Tia smirks as she leans in her chair.

“You look tense,” continues Tia.

Apple Bloom tightens her grip on her handle, but stiffens when a cold blade presses against her throat.

“I'll be taking your sword, Honeycrisp,” says Oculus.

Apple Bloom reluctantly undoes the sword-belt, and Angurvadal falls to the floor with a clank. She keeps her glare on Tia, and the unicorn giggles and picks up Pipsqueak with ease, putting him over her shoulder and holding his pack in her free hand.

“Oh, don't look at me like that. I'm just doing my job,” says Tia.

Angurvadal is levitated into Oculus's hand, and he inspects it halfheartedly, nodding approvingly with what he sees before he clips it around his waist.

“You have a nice bounty on your head,” says Oculus.

“So, ya'll just a pair of bounty hunters?” asks Apple Bloom sourly.

“No. We are above those ruffians. But I will give you a hint as to who we are. You ran into a couple of our friends at Nieghagra Falls and killed them in a very brutal way.”

Apple Bloom's eyes widen, and all the air flees her when she looks at Oculus.

“Don't worry, I won't kill you,” says Oculus. “You and your friend will remain here in our custody until my friend picks you up. He is dying to meet you since you have given him a lot of trouble. And just so you know not to run...”

Oculus's horn stops glowing and the pleasant environment dissolves to a cold, gray room with frozen cobwebs, broken tables, tattered cloth and melted candles. Hanging from the ceiling is a chandelier of weak candles that barely caste a shadow, and frigid wind blows through the cracks in the wall. Sitting at the tables are some of the patrons, but their skin is shriveled, their mouths are open and their eyes are black pools. Ice has fused them to their seats, seas of dark red surround them, and patches of flesh have been cut out of them, exposing cracking and splintering bone.

Apple Bloom's tears freeze to her face and she brings her hands to her mouth, whimpering and shivering as the coldness sinks its claws into her. All while Tia smiles and Oculus kneels next to Apple Bloom and floods her ear with his hot breath.

“Make no mistake. This is my domain. There is no Light, here. Only the Nightmare.”

Author's Notes:

Blitz-blitz-blitz

I literally wrote this whole thing in a span of five hours over a couple of days. I figured you waited long enough, but hopefully you enjoyed this chapter and fingers crossed that the next chapters will be better.