Chapter 8: Pointlessness and Oblivion

"Life... is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." ~William Shakespeare

Sweetie Belle blinked in confusion. Why could she see nothing? Did she have her eyes closed or open? Sweetie Belle almost poked one of her eyeballs out as she checked. No, she most certainly had her eyes open, and yet for as far as the eye could see there was nothing but darkness. Had she gone blind? That was a possibility, but she could not recall anything happening to her as she trotted through the doorway to this land. Sweetie Belle sighed in resignation. There was nothing she could do about this predicament, and thus she must do her best to continue forward; however, due to the fact that she could not see, there was a great chance that she would stray hideously from whatever set path existed, if any.

Sweetie Belle continued forward, dejected. Surprisingly, though, as she trotted forward, it seemed that her eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness that surrounded her. It must be that, for the shadows seemed to predominate to ever be prone to thinning. As Sweetie Belle trotted and her eyes adjusted, she began to spot what looked to be ruins, wrought in black mist. Broken spires and decrepit towers lay in countless states of decay, scattered in an infinite radius. It was at this point that Sweetie Belle realized that she could see well into the dark mists, almost as if she had become one with the shadows. However, instead of being relieved that she could see, this actually made Sweetie Belle feel worse.

There were nothing but dark, mist-covered ruins, and there was not a single sound. Even in the Maze of Isolation there was a "closeness" to it, and though Sweetie Belle had felt a sense of claustrophobia at that time, she did not feel totally alone. In this land, she could see for countless kilometers out, and unless there were furtive beings clawing in the hidden filth concealed by the ruins, Sweetie Belle was not truly alone. However, though this may have caused a previous version of Sweetie Belle to break down crying from a sense of loss, this Sweetie Belle shook the feeling off. She had experienced much worse, and though she was alone, she was not dead, and that was what mattered.

There was one thing that bothered her greatly though: the shadow. Thanks to her increased range of vision, Sweetie Belle could positively tell that the eternity that this land stretched out to be was most certainly smothered in shadow and black mist. In all the other lands there was some sort of light source, whether in the form of the twisted, macabre Jack-O-Lantern sun, or in the form of a painfully omnipresent beam; but this land had nothing. It was practically a miracle that Sweetie Belle was able to look about at all. But there she was, gazing through the darkness as if she was an entity of shadow herself. Silence. Shadow.

Sweetie Belle then suddenly screwed up her face as if she was tasting something vile and spat out the words: "Hello?! Anyone here?!"

Sweetie Belle practically convulsed from the psychological pain of breaking the silence in such an abrupt manner, but she could not stand the deafening nothingness. Her voice echoed out over the vast land of ruins, but only silence returned her call. Sweetie Belle swore silently. Then suddenly…

"Well, this is odd. A living being here?"

Sweetie Belle hefted her Zepto Sword and whirled about to slay the talking being. However, she hesitated the moment she lay eyes on the being that had interrupted the silence. It was a Twilight doppelganger. Sweetie Belle blinked. She had expected to eventually run into a Twilight look-alike, since she had run into twisted copies of all of the other members of the Mane 6, but she had not imagined the meeting to be under such circumstances. This Twilight, like all of the other Mane 6 doppelgangers, closely resembled her Element-of-Harmony counterpart, with several glaring exceptions. Her mane was mangled and twisted, and her eyes were wild. But the greatest difference was that her inflamed flesh was covered in bloody armor that dug into the puffy, irritated skin. She looked like an insane knight, who had been dipped in molten steel.

"T-Twilight?" breathed Sweetie Belle, forgetting that most of these twisted beings did not respond to their mirror names.

"Who is this Twilight you speak of?" snorted the doppelganger, "There is no twilight here! Only shadow. Well, I have forgotten my manners. Who am I? I am Anarchy!"

Sweetie Belle blinked, almost in an unimpressed fashion. Anarchy in a land blander than a wall of pure black paint was not at all interesting. "Anarchy? You don't seem to be in much of your element, do you?"

Anarchy cackled, and then broke down crying almost at the same time. "Yes! As the former Element of Chaos, it shatters my very soul to be caught up in such a vile place! There is no chaos, there is no war. There is nothing!"

Sweetie Belle could clearly tell this pony was not exactly in complete control of her faculties.

"Well… That's… nice. I must be going now…" muttered Sweetie Belle, raising her Zepto Sword as she backed away slowly.

Anarchy sharply jerked her head back to stare at Sweetie Belle with her wild eyes. "Wait! I may only be a mere shade of my previous Element of Disharmony, but I can tell when my element is about. You have left nothing but chaos in your wake… You… You are that one pony the shadows whisper about in the Black!"

Anarchy abruptly wrinkled her muzzle. "I expected you to be taller."

Sweetie Belle pulled a face. "I don't care. I will be going now."

Anarchy stumbled forward. "Wait! You have no way to escape Pointlessness! There is only one way to escape, and you have not the knowledge to forge the correct path."

Sweetie Belle sighed. She wanted badly to kill this jabbering monstrosity, but what Anarchy said was true. This strange land was too large. If Sweetie Belle chose the wrong direction, she would be condemned to wandering the land of Pointlessness pointlessly. "You are right. So, what? Are you here to tell me that you are destined to show the 'Strange One' to the door leaving this realm?"

Anarchy cackled again, her hoarse chuckles echoing in the black sky. "Oh no. I cannot show you to the door. I know not the way, for the Punishment has stripped all knowledge of escape from my mind. I know of one who may know the path though."

Sweetie Belle sighed. She should have gotten used to such enigmatic delays by now. "Okay. Who are they?"

"Anarchy," said Anarchy simply.

Eyes now narrowing, Sweetie Belle raised her Zepto Sword a little higher in the air in a threatening manner. "Don't play games with me, Grief Spawn."

Anarchy shrieked with laughter. "Do not misunderstand me, Strange One. The Anarchy I speak of is indeed not me. I am Anarchy, the Chaos of Confusion. The Anarchy mentioned is the Chaos of Anger. She is stronger than I, and perhaps has found the path out of here. The Punishment is only as strong as an Element of Disharmony's mind, and the Chaos of Anger is indeed strong. She might know."

Sweetie Belle lowered her weapon. She then readjusted her bowler hat and said, "Right… Show me the way then."

Anarchy hopped over a downed pillar of stone and beckoned to Sweetie Belle. "Yes! Yes! Follow anarchy! Enlightenment always follow."

Anarchy's howl of laughter followed as she was shrouded by black mists. Sweetie Belle quickly picked up the pace until she was beside the dark form of Anarchy. As they trotted side-by-side, Sweetie Belle glanced in a nervous manner at her compatriot. Anarchy had clearly been here longer than she, and so perhaps she possessed information on the last Living Key. The Final Question: Mrs. Where.

"Anarchy," said Sweetie Belle slowly, "Tell me… Do you know of a being named Mrs. Where?"

Anarchy cackled. "Know of her? I know of all of the Great Questions! I know it all!"

Blinking in shock, Sweetie Belle replied, "You… you do?"

This was certainly a new development. Most of the Elements of Disharmony that Sweetie Belle had encountered were simply side-characters that had offered little to new help. They perhaps knew of one or two of the wandering Questions, but it was clear that most of them had been confused by it all themselves. This Element of Disharmony, however, sounded confident in her knowledge of the Great Questions.

"Of COURSE I do!" shouted Anarchy, reveling in her madness, "Have you NO idea of the land you now stand in?"

Sweetie Belle looked about once more, but all she saw was the endless ruins and the predominate shadow. "The Land of Pointlessness…?"

"YES!" shrieked Anarchy, "YES! Does that word mean NOTHING to you, Strange One?!"

"NO! It DOES NOT!" yelled Sweetie Belle, a second away from spearing Anarchy through the face with her Zepto Sword. "So why don't you SHUT UP and tell me?!"

Anarchy cackled. She did not fear death. She had already transcended the void with her experience of living hell. "Very well. You do realize that the land you are travelling to happens to be the land of Knowledge, correct?"

Sweetie Belle nodded her head slowly. "Yes…?"

"Well, two or three thousand eternities ago, the land of Knowledge stretched beyond imagination, encompassing everywhere from Expectations to the Gardens of Hate to the Spires of the Castles in the Sky. Knowledge enlightened all lands, and kept Grief at bay in the Void of Madness… But then came a single mass from the void to pierce the Ramparts of Harmony and shatter the Spire of Good. This being had a name… His name was…"

Suddenly a single silhouette rose up in front of the travelling duo. As it rose from the earth, it spoke.

"And then Dark rose to smite the hearts of the leaders of Harmony. Their very souls were corrupted, and their infinite descendants were cursed to only have a flickering of light before shadows engulfs their being and Greif reigns their paths."

Black mists separated like a curtain, exposing the speaker: it was Madness.

Anarchy looked absolutely terrified. "The Punishment! Forgive me if I spoke out of place."

Madness ignored Anarchy and looked to Sweetie Belle. "In this land, it is not your place to ask of occurrences long past. Though many an enlightened mind denies it, the past holds meaning, and meaning cannot exist in the ruins of Pointlessness and Trivium." And as quick as that, Madness vanished.

Sweetie Belle gawked. What had just happened? She tried to inquire about the event to Anarchy, but the terrified being shut her muzzle tight and shook her head violently, her red eyes wide with insanity.

Sweetie Belle sighed in resignation and prompted them to continue on their path in silence. This unobtrusive style of journeying continued for at least three hours. Ruins lay thick about them as they continued to trot aimlessly, but soon Sweetie Belle picked out their destination: in the distance there lay a massive building that looked somewhat intact, aside from a colossal crack in its domed roof that split the building in two.

"Are we going to that domed building?" whispered Sweetie Belle, hoping that speaking in hushed tones would prompt Anarchy to speak once more. Anarchy said nothing. However, an hour later, as they neared the entrance to the giant ruin, she spoke.

"The Ruinous Stadium, indeed," said Anarchy abruptly, seemingly over the shock she had gotten from seeing Madness, "Anarchy, the Chaos of Anger is in there. She might be able to help you find a way to get over the walls."

Sweetie Belle blinked. "The… walls…? What do you mean?"

Anarchy opened her mouth, and then shut it. She looked about furtively, her wild eyes glazed with fear. She then leaned in close and began to whisper to Sweetie Belle, causing the filly to wrinkle her muzzle in distaste. Anarchy's breath was heavy-laden with the stench of rotting flesh.

"The walls of Aenor Vanum. The great shadow that this land is cast in comes from that very castle. It blocks the way to the Land of Knowledge."

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "I don't understand! What's going on?"

Anarchy roughly grabbed Sweetie Belle, and began to harshly hiss things in one ear. Sweetie Belle usually would have impaled the offending pony, but her questions were being answered, and so she was not too particular about how enlightenment was reached. However, unfortunately for her, the fragmented tale that was spun answered none, and left even more questions in its wake.

"... Ten thousand eternities ago, there existed naught but formless dark. Nothingness. There was no light, and so what existed – dark – had not a single meaning to its name. It simply was what was. But then came an intruder. A pinprick of light from infinity. This light grew, and it banished the dark. But it was not light's place to cause imbalance in an order so clean and perfect. This felony was punished by the rise of many meanings of 'dark.' Grief, the Chief Dark, rose to combat the intruder, but it was no match, and was banished to the Void and walled away by thick ramparts, manned by the Elements of Harmony. These were knights of simplicity, devoted to patrolling the walls to prevent the return of the primordial rulers of existence. They were strong and proud, headed by a seventh being, Insan. However, though Insan was their strongest link, Insan was also their weakest. At their head, Insan led the immortal elements from a state of god-hood to naught but mortality during their journey to protect the light. But as they weakened, prosperity for light grew elsewhere. Within the walls the Lands of Peace were built in pure defiance of Grief, disparity in its grandest form. But then came the Assassin and his Lieutenant: Bilik Alma, and the Furor..."

Then… A massive black mass of Grief appeared from nowhere. It exploded from the ground in a despondent shriek and seized Anarchy, the Chaos of Confusion. Without even a single yelp to mark her passing, Anarchy was dragged into the earth to her certain demise. In an instant it was over… and the shocking event left Sweetie Belle in a complete daze. What had just happened? However, she did not stay to find out. Though the sudden attack of the Grief had left no trace, Sweetie Belle did not dwell in the same position lest it come back. And thus she dashed into the Ruinous Stadium. Galloping at full speed the little filly tore through the shattered stone hallways… and found herself in the very epicenter of the massive coliseum-like building. Rows upon rows of crumbling stone benches surrounded the field of earth and rock, stretching backwards into blackness. Sweetie Belle turned a full circle, drinking in the scene, and then she noticed something: Twilight.

An exact replica of Anarchy sat atop a small pile of stones playing with a couple pebbles, her back turned to Sweetie Belle. Slowly Sweetie Belle approached this other Twilight doppelganger, her Zepto Sword held high. As she got closer, she could hear the pony mutter:

"Move him into the sun—
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields half-sown.
Always it woke him, even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds,—
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides,
Full-nerved—still warm—too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?
—O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
To break earth's sleep at all?"

Sweetie Belle tapped the pony on her shoulder, and was not surprised to see that the face of this being was identical to the deceased Anarchy as well.

"Oh… A living one. That is quite the oddity in these lands. But where are my manners? I suppose I should introduce myself before you impale me with that weapon of yours. I am Anarchy, the Chaos of Anger."

Anarchy's voice was monotone, and she did not sound angry at all.

Sweetie Belle cocked her head to one side. "I'm…"

"You're the Strange One," interrupted Anarchy, "I know. You have been spreading anger throughout this land, and I sense all anger. Not since the fall of the Deceiver have I sensed such a wake of malice that comes close. This comes… VERY close."

Sweetie Belle actually gulped. Though this Anarchy's tone was still void of emotion, it sent chills of dread throughout the filly's bones. She decided to switch the subject. She looked at the pile of pebbles that Anarchy had.

"What are you doing?"

Anarchy shrugged. "Orchestrating a war between several lands in a far-off place, full of little fleshy ones. They are so fickle, it is a wonder I need to play with them at all."

Sweetie Belle did not like the direction of this conversation either, and so switched the subject one more time. "For someone who 'orchestrates war,' you do not seem like the Chaos of Anger at all!"

Anarchy shrugged again. "The sentient manifestation of a root of evil is generally a focus point for said evil."

Sweetie Belle gave up trying to make conversation (since all of it went down an odd path) and got straight to the point. "I need assistance in scaling… er… in scaling the wall of Aenor Vanum. I need help in getting to the land of Knowledge."

Anarchy shrugged for a third time. "Getting to Aenor Vanum is easy. Simply walk in any direction, and make an effort to get to where you want to go… in an instant you will be there. As for scaling it… I know not how to do such a thing. Why try to make it over a wall that will be encompassed by the same shadows of death soon enough? It is futile. Better to stay in pointlessness. I mean… If it all ends this way in the Black, why make an attempt to do anything meaningful?"

Sweetie Belle slammed her Zepto Sword into the ground harshly, a mere centimeter from one of Anarchy's hooves. She had had enough of this enigmatic talk for once. "Sooo… You cannot help me?"

Anarchy shook her head. "Indeed I cannot. But I know of a pony that can."

Sweetie Belle sighed loud and long. She glared at Anarchy. "Who?"

"Anarchy."

Sweetie Belle pulled a face. "Let me guess: there is ANOTHER Anarchy?"

"Indeed. I am Anarchy, the Chaos of Anger. My previous self was Anarchy, the Chaos of Confusion. However, there is one more version: Anarchy, the Chaos of Grief. She is the strongest of us all, for she fuels off the very core of this flawed reality. She undoubtedly knows a way to transcend the ruins of the walls of Aenor Vanum."

"Very well," said Sweetie Belle, beginning to think this was all a wild goose chase, "Show me to this other being."

Anarchy shrugged. "It is simple. Exit this stadium. You will suddenly be in a garden of Weeping Willows. Anarchy is there."

Sweetie Belle nodded, and began to trot away. However, she had only gone a couple meters when she stopped, hesitated, and then trotted back. "I… I am looking for Mrs. Where as well. Do you have an inkling as to where she is?"

Anarchy sighed in resignation in an almost Sweetie Belle-like fashion. "It seems that the sayings are true. The Strange One seeks the scattered Questions."

"Do you know of her?"

"Indeed I do. I know of all of the Great Questions."

"Could you help me find her then?"

Anarchy glanced about, almost nervously. She then beckoned Sweetie Belle close. As the filly leaned in, Anarchy whispered:

"... Bilik Alma was wise in the ways of mortality, and thus managed to poison the heart of Insan. Insan, in turn, attacked the Elements of Harmony with the magicks of Deceit, Shame, and Blame, cursing them with a spell that wrought them and their descendants in a slow poison of disharmony for all of eternity. The Elements then turned on their Master, and opened the floodgates of Limbo, allowing the Chief Dark, Grief, to pour into reality. Grief was soon followed by Wrath, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Avarice, Pride, and Sloth. At their hands they corrupted the constructs of the Land of Peace, turning all into layer upon layer of sorrows. Finally all that stood before Greif was the Land of Knowledge and the Land of Effort. Effort had a council of the iron will: the Great Questions. The Great Questions sent out endless volleys of Meaning, pressing back the Grief… But then Furor snuck within the walls of Effort and scattered the Great Questions. The Questions themselves did not die in the chaos, but they were indeed scattered and confused. In an instant the walls of Effort crumbled and grief took control of the land..."

Sweetie Belle gawked for a moment. It was almost as if this Anarchy had seamlessly picked up the narration of the deceased Anarchy. Sweetie Belle attempted to get more out of the pony, but Anarchy refused to say anymore. Grumbling, Sweetie Belle turned about… then the shrieking of oncoming Grief erupted from nowhere. With a yell, Sweetie Belle prepared her Zepto Sword and whirled about, but in the second it took for her to turn… the Grief was gone… and so was Anarchy.

Sweetie Belle cursed under her breath. She understood nothing of what had been bequeathed upon her in that odd, unfinished tale, and now yet another of her acquaintances was dead. Shaking her head, Sweetie Belle turned about and exited the stadium. As she did so, she suddenly found herself in a garden. Thin streams of black tar ran like the strands of a spider web all about her, and massive dead, charred Weeping Willow trees stretched into the black sky above. With nothing else to do, Sweetie Belle immediately began to follow the closest stream of tar. With that as her guide, Sweetie Belle began to trot deep into the black mist.

An hour passed…

Then perhaps a day…

A year…?

A century…?

Sweetie Belle suddenly stumbled upon a clearing… and it seemed that it was at the very epicenter of the garden, for trillions of tiny streams of black fluid flowed from a massive stone fountain in the center of the clearing, surrounded by the towering dead Weeping Willows. The fountain itself was almost as large as the trees, reaching into the air like an ornate skyscraper. A winding staircase – covered in archaic carvings and glowing symbols – led into the bowels of the fountain, and it was clear that it led to a small platform at the very top. Picking her way carefully between the streams, Sweetie Belle reached the staircase and began to trot up it. Many, many minutes past before she neared the top, and the surrounding Weeping Willows had not even begun to diminish in size. It was clear that these things were vastly larger than the tar-spewing fountain-building. The platform was just beyond reach, and now that it was close, Sweetie Belle could inspect it clearly. The thing was obviously the source of the tar stream, for it literally dripped the black fluid. Nonetheless, despite being defiled by such things, the staircase boldly fused with the thing, making it obvious that Sweetie Belle would soon have to venture onto the liquid. As she reached the last few steps, a voice slowly croaked from the platform.

"The Strange One. I knew my senses did not deceive me. The harbinger of the end of a cycle… to come from the depths of Orkur Morith… having traversed the fell lands of Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… having survived the expected collapse of the puppet kingdom of Acceptance… Come upon the platform my dear… Let me see you…"

Sweetie Belle gingerly trotted onto the platform. However, as she ventured upon it, she saw nothing. Looking about in confusion, she went to the center and gazed about for the source of the voice. She saw nothing but the sea of Weeping Willow trees that still stretched high into the sky regardless of the impressive height of the stone fountain.

"Where are you?"

"Ahhhh… Madness said that Mrs. Where was the least of the Great Questions… and yet it is useful all the same… Where am I? Look down, my dear."

Sweetie Belle looked down, and almost choked on her tongue in horror.

The surface of the platform was covered in black tar, but despite it being black, viscous, and seemly as solid as glass, it was somewhat translucent. And thus Sweetie Belle could see one or two meters deep. About a meter beneath the surface lay a pony… The third Anarchy. She lay belly-up in the tar in suspended animation. She was spread-eagled, and her head lolled to one side. Her entire body had been ripped open, and her innards floated freely in the tar that she was submerged in deeply. Her disconnected intestines, ripped arteries, and dismembered veins wreathed around her like strings about a mangled puppet, and the black tar was clearly flowing from the openings of all of these organs and veins. A single lazy eye of Anarchy turned to look at Sweetie Belle, and then the voice of Anarchy spoke beside Sweetie Belle's ear, though the pony beneath the surface did not move her mouth at all.

"Behold Anarchy, the Chaos of Grief."

Sweetie Belle gagged and dry heaved for a bit before she could speak. "What happened?"

"What happened? It matters not. The question is: do you have a question? You could never have found your way into this disembodied garden without the help of a previous version of myself."

Sweetie Belle winced as she felt bile building in her throat. "Y-yes… I need help scaling the walls of Aenor Vanum. I wish to make it to the land of Knowledge beyond."

"Ahhhh… The Land of Knowledge. A fabled place, some may say. Yes. I know a pathway. Listen carefully… This is the land of Effort. The ruins are scars of the last battles between the primordial lords of reality and the Great Questions of Effort. The Final Great City… now the Land of Pointlessness. Have you wondered why there is a great shadow cast over this land? That shadow belongs to the Castle of the Great Questions, now known as Aenor Vanum. It covers all. We now reside amongst the ruins of Effort, now the Orkur Morith, where all hope is abandoned. You wish to reach a land that is blocked off by the futility of light. A flame only flickers for an instant in the face of dark. In the many eternities before this time, Effort was a grand land, and all those willing to do good for the good of others could pass through the walls to Knowledge… But since the fall of the Questions and the corruption of this land, Effort has become Aenor Vanum, and roles have been reversed. There is only one way to transcend the walls: you must be willing to do evil for evil's sake. You must give up the futile fight, and give into pointlessness and dark..."

Sweetie Belle would have once been put off by the idea of 'doing evil for evil's sake,' but at this point she did not care. To her, life was her only point in existing now. She grit her teeth and said, "I do not care. What must I do?"

A small chuckle from Anarchy wove its way about Sweetie Belle. "I know more… that the other former Elements of Disharmony. Almost as much… as perhaps Insan. I can see your sources of Grief, and I am intrigued. Before this cycle… what were you? Who were you before you were lost in the land of the MIND?"

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth and then shut it. She opened it once more, and shut it once more. It reality, she could not remember. She had been… something before all of this. But all memories of happiness had faded. Had she lost everything in her mad struggle to survive? Could she recover it if she escaped it all?

Anarchy continued to talk, not waiting for a response. "I suppose it does not matter. The Grief is coming, and it has claimed my two past lives. Soon it will claim me as well. Sweetie Belle..."

Sweetie Belle almost jumped a meter in the air when she heard he name. No being in this land seemed to know it… and yet this being did.

"Sweetie Belle," continued Anarchy, "You will find Mrs. Where deep within this forest, lost amongst the trees. Do now wonder of where you are going when you depart from here… just go where you see fit. For where you want to go, and where you are truly going... they eventually conjoin. Go now."

Sweetie Belle could not help but bow her head in respect. "Thank you… Anarchy, Chaos of Grief."

"Ahhh… That name is so odd," sighed Anarchy, "Grief generally is the end of all chaos… perhaps that explains my demeanor."

Sweetie Belle did not reply. Instead she turned tail and began to trot down the staircase once more, her hooves sticky with the tar seeping from the decimated body of Anarchy. As she trotted down several steps, Anarchy suddenly called out:

"Sweetie Belle… The Land of the MIND is the resting place of every culture and every reality… There are many meanings to many things here, gathered by time itself. Furor… the Lieutenant of Bilik Alma… Furor has a meaning in our language… But that doesn't mean it means something more important in another…"

Sweetie Belle nodded wordlessly, and she continued trotting down. She reached the foot of the fountain and trotted away, not knowing where she was heading. She was about a kilometer away from the clearing that held the construct when she looked back. Through the ocean of trees she could see the stone fountain… and it was surrounded by rising tentacles of Grief.

For some strange reason Sweetie Belle felt no terror… only meaningless sorrow. She stared as the tentacles of black Grief surrounded the fountain, snapped it in two, and dragged the pieces into the earth like it was nothing. Sweetie Belle turned about without a single word, and continued on her journey. The trees closed about her, and silence reigned supreme… but only for a moment. For the instant Sweetie Belle realized she was truly lost, a small voice wove its way between the countless branches of the Weeping Willows.

"A single drop in the ocean. As simple as a flame of light. Do they both make such an impact? Is the good of light worth all right?"

Sweetie Belle strained her ears, and she began to follow the voice to its source. Though it was faint enough to have been carried across leagues of earth by the wind Sweetie Belle found the source of the voice in less than a minute, leaning against a tree.

It was a fair mare, her eyes bright and innocent. She had a golden mane, a bright yellow coat, and beautiful blue eyes. However, though her coat seemed a solid yellow, flashes of images of countless landmarks across the whole of reality flickered in her fur as she moved. This was most certainly Mrs. Where. She was humming to herself when Sweetie Belle approached her. In an instant Sweetie Belle's knees felt weak as the pony turned to pierce her with her bright eyes.

"Hello," said Mrs. Where, "Who are you? Oh, don't tell me. By where you are standing. You are the Strange One."

"Y-y-yes," stuttered Sweetie Belle, "Are you… are you Mrs. Where?"

Mrs. Where nodded her fair head slightly. "Indeed I am. Have you come to join me on a little stroll?"

Sweetie Belle felt a lump form in her throat. Mrs. Where had no idea of why Sweetie Belle had come for her. "I… I can't."

Mrs. Where blinked. "Oh. Very well, that is okay. Is there a reason you have come to visit me?"

Sweetie Belle shook her head. "I… Well… N-no… I just wanted to say hello!"

Mrs. Where smiled sweetly. "Well then… hello!"

Mrs. Where then turned her back to Sweetie Belle, and returned to her gentle humming. It was an idle song of kindness and peace, completely contrasting with her surroundings.

Sweetie Belle choked in sadness. Unlike most of the other Great Questions, Mrs. Where was completely innocent. She had was a small pinprick of light in all of this shadow, having done nothing wrong. However, if Sweetie Belle did not kill her, she would be trapped here forever… or at least until the Grief consumed the land with him in it. It was either her life… or Mrs. Where's.

Suddenly Madness stepped from the shadows from behind Sweetie Belle. As he drew up beside her, he whispered, "This is the land of pointlessness. Nothing you do here should matter either way. Both your life and her life is naught but meaningless. But to me, Sweetie Belle… You matter. I have not guided you this far for nothing. It is time for you to reach the very last stage. Do it do it do it do it do it do it do it…"

Sweetie Belle felt tears flowing down her cheeks as she gently tapped Mrs. Where on the shoulder. Mrs. Where turned around to look at Sweetie Belle. "Yes?"

"I'm… I'm sorry…" sobbed Sweetie Belle, raising her Zepto Sword.

Mrs. Where looked at Sweetie Belle's weapon in confusion. Then her face saddened. "Oh… I see… My life for yours. It was only a matter of where this would take place. Had this happened in another land, mayhap this would not have been the outcome. I… I forgive you. I understand what you are going through-"

That was as far as she got. Sweetie Belle stabbed her through the face. The needle-like blade pierced her skull and speared her brain, slaying her in an instant. Sweetie Belle let Mrs. Where fall to the earth, and then shrieked to the skies. Tears were still flowing as she cut out Mrs. Where's heart, and tears were still dripping to the damp earth as she dropped the very last heart of the Great Questions in her satchel.

"You did what you saw was necessary," breathed Madness.

Sweetie Belle whirled with a scream, and attempted to slice Madness's face open, but Madness simply turned to mist, let the blade pass through, and then coalesced again.

"Calm yourself, Sweetie Belle," murmured Madness, "Your path is not yet over."

Madness then pointed behind her. Sweetie Belle, still shaking heavily for crying, turned around. Though she had been positive that she had been completely surrounded by the sea of towering Weeping Willow trees, she suddenly found herself beside a towering stone wall that stretched even higher than the trees. It was the walls of Aenor Vanum. The moment Sweetie Belle saw them, she remembered the words of Anarchy, the Chaos of Grief:

"You wish to reach a land that is blocked off by the futility of light. A flame only flickers for an instant in the face of dark. In the many eternities before this time, Effort was a grand land, and all those willing to do good for the good of others could pass through the walls to Knowledge… But since the fall of the Questions and the corruption of this land, Effort has become Aenor Vanum, and roles have been reversed. There is only one way to transcend the walls: you must be willing to do evil for evil's sake. You must give up the futile fight, and give into pointlessness and dark."

Sweetie Belle realized something: she had committed an act of pure evil against an innocent being… Exactly what was needed to be done in order to transcend the fell walls of Aenor Vanum. Sweetie Belle had become a monster.

"I didn't want any of this!" sobbed Sweetie Belle desperately looking for a way to justify the act of pure malice, "I didn't ask to end in this land! I never wanted any of this to happen! B-b-but I want to survive! I want to live on so that I can grow up… a-a-and become a good guy!"

Madness sighed, his voice seemingly disturbing the very subspace fabric of reality. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. You must move on, time is short. Look behind you."

Sweetie Belle turned tail and saw yet another nightmare: The entire land of Pointlessness was submerged by an ocean of Grief. Though her view should have been shrouded by trees, the moment she turned around Sweetie Belle found herself on a massive hill residing beside a wall of Aenor Vanum. Far off in the distance she could see the Ruinous Stadium collapsing as giant waves of Grief crashed against it. The land was not an ocean… an ocean of Grief.

"And now," murmured Madness, "Turn around again."

Sweetie Belle turned around again, and was shocked to find that a door was now nestled in the wall of Aenor Vanum. The door and the doorframe were wrought in stone and steel. In the very center of the door was a single word fashioned from horribly bent and tarnished gold. The word was: KNOWLEDGE.

Sweetie Belle actually felt her bladder release from relief. She had made it. She had actually made it to the Land of Knowledge. She was almost home. And so Sweetie Belle reached forward to open the door and enter this new land, leaving an ocean of malice, hate, grief, pain, and suffering in her wake.

Instincts are strong, but madness is stronger. You ignore the threat of the pawn. You move your queen to H5. Check. The Unknown sees a double-opportunity. They move a pawn from G7 to G6. This threatens your queen, and protects their king.