The cricket-song that blanketed the town spilled into the mill, a sweet serenade that filled the emptiness so as to lull Starswirl off to sleep. But all the wizard could do was stand across the living room and stare at the couch like it was an animal snare.
Weariness ached in his bones and shot into his joints every time he moved, but how could he consider, even for a moment, lying down and surrendering himself to sleep when the yawning abyss of his old memories threatened to swallow him whole? How could he be so foolish as to entertain a thought like that? He couldn't risk it, as the stallion could choose then to strike, to steal into his mind and rip out his innermost secrets for use as weapons against him.
It won't affect me, he reassured himself, because I know the stallion's hoof at work now, and I can resist him if he should come to me.
But his thoughts did not assuage his fears. He could feel the memory of Mareco lurking just out of sight in the recesses of his mind, waiting for him to drop his guard and attack him.
He turned away from his makeshift bed, trying to remember when the last time he had stayed awake all night was and how hard it had been to function the following day.
But he had gone no farther than the kitchen when he hit his shin on a chair leg sticking out. He tripped and went sprawling on the floor.
He sighed and tried to push himself off the ground, but his legs refused to support him. He let his head fall until it rested against the ground, but he warned himself that it was only for a moment.
Only one moment....
Helpless, he lay down and listened to the clock as it ticked away the time.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Click.
Clack.
Trick.
Trap.
He shuddered as he suddenly remembered that Carmine didn't have a clock. His eyes flew open and he shoved himself off the ground.
Before his eyes, everything in the mill wore itself out and crumbled down; the hideous decay was made inexorable by the constant fixed speed of the clockwork mechanism underlying everything that was. The cabinets, the furniture, even the walls turned to dust until it was all blown away by the wind. The dust arced up into a whirlpool in the blood-red sky. He thought it resembled a tornado, but only when he looked down did he realize where he was:
In an hourglass.
The dust swirled away and formed a maelstrom that ticked away the time as inexorably as the clock. It was pulling him down, and no matter how much he thrashed, he couldn't break free. It crawled up his body, up his neck, up his chin, towards his mouth as he gasped for breath.
And through it all, he heard that accursed ticking.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Covered in cold sweat, Starswirl jerked awake and lifted his head off the ground. His heart beat wildly and thudded loudly in his ears.
Then, he heard that ticking again, and became convinced he was still in the dream, and had only falsely awakened.
But the more he waited, the less the world around him distorted with dreamlike delusions. But then what was that ticking....?
His ears picked up as he realized it wasn't a ticking clock at all. It was the sound of galloping hooves beating furiously against the ground. And they weren't coming from the forest, but from right in the town.
A torturous howl that only barely sounded like a whinny ripped and rendered the silent night. Up overhead, the Starswirl heard Clover jerk awake and tumble out of bed. The wizard threw the door open in time to see a fiery shadow blaze through the center of town. That it was a pony was now much clearer, for its shadowy figure had consolidated and coalesced until its head, body, and four legs could be discerned by the moonlight.
He heard a high-pitched wail, and he imagined that some foal woke up, looked out their window, and got the fright of their young life.
The shadow stallion reared back and let loose with another whinny. The sound, so like the scrape of twisted metal, stabbed the heart of the town like a dagger.
"Starswirl," Clover cried, "what is it....?"
The wizard sneered, "It's him."
The shadow stallion locked its bright red eyes on Starswirl and pawed at the ground, preparing to charge.
As the wizard stepped out of the mill, he connected the spark of Harmony inside himself to his horn. It glowed with a cerulean light.
"Come on then," he said softly.
The shadow stallion broke into a run and galloped straight for the wizard, who dug his hooves into the ground and stood firm.
"Starswirl....!" Clover whimpered.
Its red eyes pierced the darkness as it drew closer. In the sound of its hooves, Starswirl could again hear the ticking of a clock, as if his hour had come. But he would not surrender himself willingly. He almost thought he saw lips on the shadow-figure drew up into a grin and display sharp, gleaming teeth.
The stallion leapt into the air and dove straight for him. But no soon had Starswirl gotten ready to unleash a blast of energy from his horn when the stallion summoned a burst of dust from the ground and blew it at the wizard like the sandstorms he and Mareco--his heart gave a painful twist--had braved in the Arabican deserts. He coughed and choked as the dust stung his eyes and made him blink. When it reluctantly began to clear, Starswirl turned every which way searching for the enchanter, yet he had no luck until, with dawning dread, he looked up and beheld the stallion watching him from atop the roof of the mill. The wizard thought that even if he had a connection to the Harmony, the stallion would have fought any attempt to penetrate his mind.
"Do you have a name at least, enchanter?" Starswirl asked, his tone even and measured.
The stallion cocked his head. "Enchanter, hmm?" His voice, surely an affectation to conceal his identity, had a serpentine sibilance, smooth yet deep and raspy. "If enchanter it is, then why not Nightshade?"
"Is this your game now, Nightshade? To unnerve the townsponies by making noises in the night?"
"It is my game for now, wizard. But you must admit it's working. Oh, no, wait, you can't tell, because my magic took that from you."
"For now, Nightshade. For now. But I will not let you hurt Carmine."
"Don't worry, wizard, for you shall know when I make my next move."
As his words carried over the wind and drifted down to Starswirl, Nightshade the Enchanter spun around and jumped off the other side of the mill. For a second, Starswirl considered chasing him away, but quickly realized there was no point.
He sighed and trudged back into the mill, using a burst of magic to close the door behind himself. He spied Clover huddling under the table, shaking and shivering, and bent down to talk to her.
"It's alright, he's gone now."
She raised her head to him, and he saw tears on her cheeks.
"Wh-why did he come here?" she moaned.
"To unsettle us. To make us afraid."
"Well, he did a fine job of it."
Starswirl nodded. "Yes, he did."
"You said my papa's name to him. Why did you say that?"
"I'll explain later, Clover, but for right now, let's go to sleep."
She crawled out from under the table and got to her knees; Starswirl didn't think she was even this scared when he'd summoned the draconequis.
As the wizard trudged over to the couch and lay down, he said, "Goodnight, Clover."
The filly looked up at the darkened opening at the top of the stairs and gulped heavily.
"Starswirl," she asked, her voice shaking. "Can I...."
"What, Clover?"
She tip-hoofed over to him, her eyes on the floor and her cheeks blushing.
"Can I stay down here? With you?"
While he thought of what to say, he was suddenly overcome with a clot of emotion in his chest, a block of frustrated longing that he and Mareco had never had a foal, that he would never have a foal with the mare he had loved, or perhaps not even with any other for that matter.
"Sure, Clover," he finally said.
She trotted up to him and stuck close to his side, her eyes going to the shadows of the night beyond the window.