Morgan dreamt that night, of a wasteland.
She saw a world of darkness, of mire and poison. It made her thirst, and she did not know why.
She herself was different: blacker, more than touched by the night... she was saturated in it. She felt strong, and terrible... and weak. Like for all her power, there was something missing. It was all to cover up a hole that would not, could not be filled...
She thought of those she loved, and she felt lifted by them, like they could aid her, free her from the chains wrapped around herself, the false strength that filled her... but she realized that while Sol was there, and Titan was there, her Paladin was not. She loved him, did she not?
She loved him, did she not?
She did not know. What was love, anyway? Who would love her, if she was weak? Who would love her, if she was too strong? For her Paladin always wanted her to be submissive to his desires, and yet all the same, he always wanted to hide behind her. He followed her, but barked and bragged loudly, stepped in front of her in places that were familiar, when he had an idle audience, when he thought he boasted the advantage.
He never had the advantage over her. And while she did not mind playing along with his games and letting him lead when he would bark, with teaching him how to be stronger, with helping him to assert his silly dominance... she was growing weary of it.
Still, he cared for her, and she cared for him, very deeply. And the thought of him helped wash away this tide of darkness around her, reminded her that even if they were flawed, there were good ponies in the world, those who loved and accepted her and wanted to be beside her. And she knew, too, that it was for more than just her power that he cared: that was what meant the most to her. For if he wanted to court power, he would court Sol, would he not? Nay, he had chosen her.
She had been chosen.
But who else had chosen her, she wondered? And why did it feel like the stars were gazing down at her, as if filled with their own purpose and intent? Or was it something further, something beyond that firmament, that gazed down upon her, that whispered to her, that tried to lure and lull her...
Who was she, really, beneath all the things she had been taught, beneath the layers of pony? Who were her siblings? She loved them so dearly, so deeply, and yet in some part of her, she saw that while they were all very much the same... they were also all so very, very different. They were three different worlds, she thought, of earth, moon and sun...
Morgan dreamt of a dark world that sprawled and stretched out before her, endless and ominous, lit only by the stars that glowed high above. She dreamt of shadows, and dark creatures, and all the things that Sol said they were trying to stop.
And what scared Morgan so deeply, what made her feel so fearful and ill was not that this was a portent of the future... but that she felt so much at home in this dark and terrible place. She knew in her heart what these chains were, why she was cursed with false strength, what hurt her dearly and deeply, and why in her dreams she called upon her loved ones to aid her, to help her, and only the thought of them quelled her hubris and her ego.
Morgan knew she was a part of this dark world. And she knew that only in her dreams, would her family accept that this was who she was.
Because in the real world, the sun slaughtered the night.
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