Return to Darkness

by KS Claw

Sequel to All is Well. Sometimes, you don't belong where you first came from. And one of Sandy's Dreams feels that way.

A/N: I decided to make a sequel to All is Well. Hope you guys enjoy!

All characters belong to Dreamworks/William Joyce/Moonbot Studios.

It is so strange. I follow my orders from the Golden Maker as I always do, and go to the child who aided in purifying me and the others, because how could I not? I am her dream, after all. I should be satisfied with that.

But I am not.

She and I ride through her dreams as we always do, though things have been changed since the last time. Gone are the circus tents and flowerfields, replaced by mountains and dark woods that we travel through, chasing shadows that pose a threat to her wonderland. Or the child is at least. I simply let myself be guided along, playing the role of the loyal steed to my rider. To her it is exciting. To me, it is tedious.

It is nothing like before, when I and my Nightmare Sisters could run across the sky. We were the cause of shadows in dreams, the weapon of our Dark Maker, his sword and shield against the light that penetrates all.

Morning comes, and just as before, I return to Golden Maker. I no longer crowd in with the others to share my stories of the adventures the child and I had in her dreams. There are new dreams who have never needed to be cleansed and they swarm place of the older ones, gathering eagerly around the Golden Maker before returning to his dream cloud.

They cannot know that the Golden Maker already knows how their stories go. I did not realize it myself, until I had been a Nightmare. Somehow, through Fear, I sensed that the Dark Maker knew what went on in the nightmares of children. And Golden Maker therefore is well aware of what goes on in dreams.

I suspect that he believes it gives us a way to feel as equals that he allows us to tell him stories. But at the same time, I am starting to doubt it.
—–

I wonder idly if my thoughts are invasive ones from the Dark Maker, and if they are meant to poison me against the Golden Maker. Or if it my transformation from before simply opened my eyes to a different truth.

This is something I ponder, as I once again ride with the child, trotting slowly through a dark forest. We make it to a clearing, dark and filled with thorned bushes, and the child stops me by pulling my reins, before she climbs down from my back and prepares herself for what is to come, readying herself with her sword and shield.

She must think she looks so brave, I think to myself, and find myself surprised at the disgust that I feel. So brave and so strong. Just because of one brave adventure in the Waking World. (I still remember her touch as her Belief in Dreams went straight to my core, turning black sand to gold.)

I find myself longing for the brief time where I was a Nightmare, because despite the thoughts I was born with from Golden Maker, the Darkness did not feel bad. I felt like I was meant to be, that my Sisters and I were meant to spread the Darkness that our Dark Maker brought.
(I shouldn't be angry with her. She was only doing what she thought was right.)

Children were meant to be afraid, I think to myself, because it keeps them out of the dark woods. Not like my child now, who is deliberately seeking dangerous adventure, even if only in dreams. And what of in the daytime? What choices does she make, that is inspired by her fantastical dreams instead of cautionary shadows?
(But she wasn't right. She and the other children. The Dark Maker did not mean for us to last forever.)

I am aware of Golden Maker's opinions of that, because it is what all Dreams are born with. Darkness is Bad and Dreams protect children from what is Bad.
(There can not be Light without Darkness.)

But… maybe they do not have to be? I think, watching the child move bravely towards the thorny bushes where her imagined monster, a wolf or bear or dragon, lies in wait.

(There are Monsters in the Woods. Monsters With Big Sharp Teeth an old, oldvoice whispers to me, so old and so tired, tired of fighting, of being unwanted…)

For the first time, I break away from the child before dawn comes. I do not even realize I have done it before I am running, the thin thread of gold connecting me to the Golden Maker snapping taut and stretching and stretching, threatening to pull me back when it reaches its limit… until I slash out with my horn, my own will and anger cutting it into pieces.

I do not know if the Golden Maker realizes what has happened or if he will come after me. All I know is that I want, need to run.

I am a Unicorn.

And I am more than a simple Dream.
—–

I remember seeing through the Golden Maker's eyes how the remains of my Nightmare Sisters dragged the Dark Maker underground, the power of their attack enough to drag earth into the hole and close it behind them.

I paw at the ground, and flinch only a little, more in surprise than fright, when remains of dark sand stain my hooves. It is all I need to help me however, the grains from my Sisters telling me of other entrances, other openings to the lair.

The Golden Maker has sensed my absence, though I only sense it vaguely in the back of my mind. I set off urgently, running from him and the coming dawn.

I only have a little time, and should the dawn come first, I will simply cease to be. And I can not allow that to happen.
—

The sky is turning light when I find the cavern. I do not hesitate, my goal firmly in my mind, even as my golden coat lights up the darkness. I ignore it as I run, run as fast as I can, into the dark lair of the Dark Maker.

I sense my Sisters before they sense me. And I can sense the Dark Maker too. He has sought sanctuary in one of his own cages, and he is so very afraid, the scent driving my poor Sisters mad with hunger. I realize that they have not yet understood how there are others entrances to this lair. The Sister whose sand I touched was the last to follow, and so she was caught when the earth closed the hole…

My poor Sisters. You do not deserve to be starved like this.

I whinney soundlessly, (my voice once more having been lost when I became a Dream again) before I kick sharply against one of the walls. The Nightmares turn towards the sound, and I know that in their mad starvation, they do not recognize a former Nightmare Sister.

To them, I look like a fat and good meal.

I rear up, flailing my front legs in a challenge, before I set off, running back the way that I came. The Nightmares scream as they give chase, the sound echoing throughout the lair along with the thunder of their hooves.
—–

The chase goes on for many hours. I make my way towards any entrances I recall from the sand I touched, steering away from the ones that are lit up from the sun, the light varying as I go. All the while, the Nightmares on the hunt, whinnying and screaming as they hunt me, sometimes jumping out of the dark and snapping after me, more like a ravenous pack of wolves than the Dark Sisters they used to be.

I do not know how I have managed to avoid them for so long, except perhaps for the thought of how my light might burn them down in this darkness. Once, a Nightmare succeeds in biting off a part of my tail, and I know it hurts her more than it hurts me.

A part of me suspects that it has to do with Golden Maker's Belief. It is at its absolute peak, and even though I have seperated myself from his chords, he still has some power that lies in me. It is a curse and a blessing, because near one of the entrances, I can sense him. He is looking for me, wondering why one of his dreams would be running like it did.

But it gives me an idea. Albeit a rather wicked one.

The Nightmares are so starved, they do not care what is in the way, even as I change directions once more, this time running in the direction where I can sense the Golden Maker. He is just at the mouth of the cave, and he smiles when he sees me, clearly pleased to see a stray Dream return to the flock.

The smile fades when I make a sharp turn and quickly disappear right down the next tunnel. And then I sense his confusion turning into alarm when my Sisters turn their attention to him, as they literally run across him. They are at a point, where they are too hungry to be afraid of him, and I know they will distract him in the way I need them to.

I am sorry, Golden Maker. But I don't want to be one of your Dreams anymore.

I don't belong with them.
—–

The Dark Maker is still in the cage when I find my way back to the main lair. He is curled up in a tight ball, his hands covering his head, his whole body shivering. I snort silently as I approach the cage, and while I have no voice, it must have drawn attention because the Dark Maker slowly lifts his head and looks up… right before he jerks, the cage rocking back and forth, while he twists and turns his head around, no doubt expecting the Golden Maker to show up.

He won't though. I can tell that the Golden Maker has left again, either having been chased off by the Nightmares, or having cleansed them was simply satisfied with having those last few dreams returned to him. Or perhaps he had them cleansed, and then had to urgently return to his own duties. Whatever the case, he is not coming back here.

The cage slowly stops rocking, and the Dark Maker has his gaze entirely focused on me. I simply stand still, watching and waiting patiently, while hoping that I come off as non-frightening as possible. I know by now, that black sand from the Nightmares are staining me, but for some reason it's not having any real effect on me. But then, the Nightmares were not the one with the real power to change Dreams.

"…Did Sanderson send you?" The Dark Maker asks after a long time's silence, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. I snort, shaking my head, idly wishing I had a voice. Instead, I stay in my spot, watching at the other slowly begins to move. He hesitantly opens the cage, and pushes himself forward until he sits on the edge of it.

"I do remember a unicorn." He mutters after a while, scrutinizing me carefully. "But why would a Dream come down here, if Sanderson isn't here?" He scowls irritably. "Unless he sent you to gloat over his victory."

Again, I shake my head, scraping with my hoof a bit in frustration. I finally decide enough is enough, and step towards him. The Dark Maker pulls back, then freezes when I press my head against his chest, nuzzling him with all the love and affection that I know.

Please, I think. Please, do not reject me. Let me stay.

The Dark Maker sits frozen for a long time, but I refuse to pull away. Finally, he hesitantly puts his hand on my neck and begins to pet me. I keep nuzzling him, snorting softly in affection, even as I feel a familiar cold sensation at his touch. It is slower than it was last time, and while it still hurts a bit, I welcome the feeling as it spreads from my neck and down across my body, twisting and changing everything inside of me.

I breathe in deep, and let the air out in a long, soft whinney, feeling how my own has disappeared in favor of my sharp edges and pointy muzzle. Dark Maker keeps petting me, and then he speaks one word that I know a part of me had forgotten.

"Onyx."

I have a name.

Even though the Dark Maker has been forced back to the darkness he came from, even though I was cleansed of his shadows by the belief of children, I still carried the name he gave me.

He named many of us, I remember, as I lift my head and nuzzle against his face with a happy snort, before letting him push me away so that he can look at me properly. Not all of us, but enough so that even if something should happen, there would come a time where we would return to him.

The Dark Maker grins now, brushing his fingers across my muzzle and through the strands of my mane. He is no longer afraid, and I know it will help him when it comes to regaining the other Nightmares. They will remember the Names he gave them and come home.

I am Onyx. The First Nightmare of Pitch Black.

All Is Well.