Battle in the Dark
 
 
    A silent wind blew through the thick darkness of the cave, caressing the unmoving rubble on its floor and a face. His eyes were shut tight and his mouth wide open, letting a little stream drip down his jaw. Minuscule pebbles pushed against his back, attempting to pierce his shirt.
 
    “Quick! I can’t hold it forever!”
 
    He twitched. The words ringed in his ears, leaving a distant, confusing whir over his eardrums. Sod off... He was sleeping; he didn’t want to bother with anything which could disturb his slumber. All he wanted to was to sleep.
 
    “Hurry it up!”
 
    The man flung his left arm over his body and turned his back to the source of that incessant buzz.
 
    “I’m trying! Just wait a second!”
 
    Shut up! He pressed his eyelids against each other, etching small bumps over and wrinkles around them, forcing himself to remain asleep. His cheeks contracted against his brows and sent a wave to his eardrums. The vibration fought back the incoming sound, making the noise grow more distant. One more shout jumped against his ear, but another wave retaliated, making it become no more than what a speck is to the eyes. His mouth drew its tips like a sudden twitch. For that small fragment of time, his face was one of complete happiness for finding sleep again.  His whole body felt like ooze, melting to the whims of slumber and volatizing back into dreamland. A warm sensation flowed from his chest to every other inch of his being. His cheeks blushed with the fuzziness. More warmth puffed against his face, slowly fading away and puffing again at a regular pace. His head became heavy and he smiled once more. Then his grin turned upside down. He was too aware. Too aware of the breath blowing over his nose and the hard, round object pressing against his side.
 
    “Why won’t you shut the hell up and let me sleep?!”
 
    He propped his torso up and raised his fists into the air, ready to smack whatever foul creature dared to interrupt the sacred activity of sleeping. What his eyes met was a most unexpected visage, however. He saw the nostrils of a horse; a blue-coated horse. His gaze tip-toed upwards, to a pair of abnormally big eyes looking into his. The creature’s dark, misty mane flowed over her snout, breaking the eye contact.
 
    “What... I mean, who... I mean, wha... I...” he babbled.
 
    “You weren’t just going to punch me in the face, were you?” she said with a solemn, monotonous voice with traces of disapproval.
 
    “I... I... I, uh... What?”
 
    “Your fists are raised,” the horse stated, pointing its hoof covered with a crystalline shoe at his hands.
 
    “Uh, just... just what is going on here?”
 
    “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who I am.” The equine blinked its eyes, battering its large eyelashes.
 
    “Was I supposed to know you?”
 
    “You’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?”
 
    “Of course not! I have never seen...” He paused, proceeding to stretch his neck at the animal. “Wait a minute... I’m pretty sure I have seen you somewhere, now that I think about it.”
 
    “Great! That’s really great! But, hey, look here.” The rather small horse leapt to the man’s side and squeezed him with its left leg, pointing at the dark with the right hoof. “Do you see that? I don’t know if you can – I know I can – but that thing up there is my sister, and she’s in some serious trouble. We need your help as soon as possible, got it? Hope you got the message; I need to hurry back and help her out. Be ready to unleash the final strike when we tell you to!”
 
    It spread its wings and jumped to the air, quickly vanishing into the darkness. The man took his hands to his temples, relaxing his eyelids which became heavier with each stroke.  Just what is going on here? And why was a horse talking? Wait. He stopped the rubbing motion and his eyes sprung back open with a flash.
 
    “Why was I talking to a mare?!”
 
    He jumped on his feet, looking into the absurdly dark obscurity. The winged horse had completely vanished in it. He heard something about her sister being there and needing his help. His eyes were drying up. In them, red welled under his irises. He shook his head and lowered his sight, turning his back to the equine; finding an exit was, in his head, a much better activity, at least for the time being. Preparing to walk, he lifted his left leg. The other leg shivered, shook and collapsed. He crossed his arms over his head, gashing them against the many pebbles scattered on the ground. Groaning, he raised his head and found a tall wall standing mere inches from his eyes. He stretched his arm over to the wall and penetrated his fingers in one of the many cracks. Contracting his muscles, he dragged his body closer to the wall. Sitting on his knees, he threw his arm upwards, gripping on to another crack and pulled his body. The man leaned his head on the wall, puffing heavy breaths. He took the other hand to the wall and pushed himself from it, just enough so he could walk but still have some support. His fingers rubbed against the rock; it was softer than expected and had many fibres travelling along it. He looked at it – it wasn’t made of rock, but rather, it was a giant tree bark. More specifically, it was the inside of a tree bark. The whole structure stretched upwards.
 
    This is complete madness... That’s it. I’m off!
 
    His steps made no sound on the rubble, as if he had no weight. There was no sound of pebbles being kicked or crushed, nothing. The only thing he had was his touch and sight, and even the latter was becoming numb in that excruciating darkness. It was as if the only place with the least bit of light was where the blue horse woke him up. His audition, however, was still with him.
 
    “Hey, you wanker, it’s the other way!”
 
    He jumped. He was hearing voices again, although this one was distinct from the others; it was male and had a heavy Australian accent.
 
    “Didn’t you hear me? It’s the other way, you bag o’piss!”
 
    “What’d you call me?” The man sped up his pace, walking to a section of the wall from which a strong, yellow light burst. He felt his way to it and turned right, facing a tall man wearing a blue shirt with rolled up sleeves under a brown vest. Over his short hair he wore a hat and resting over his nose cane was a pair of large, brown-ish shades.
 
    “I called you a wanker and a bag o’piss,” he replied with his hands both in the air, as if there was someone pointing a gun behind him. The man looked beyond the Australian and found nothing.
 
    “Hey, wanker, I’m here, not over there. What about you listen to what I say an’ go help Luna and Celestia?”
 
    “Luna and Celestia?”
 
    “Yeah. Luna and Celestia.”
 
    “Who?”
 
    “Are you deaf? Luna and Celestia, those two winged unicorns! They need your help, so go at ‘em!”
 
    “What is going on here?”
 
    “Just go do it!”
 
    “Fine...” he mumbled, turning his back to the Australian man.   The yellow light dimmed away. He looked up and white exploded over his eyes. In an instant, he shut them tight. A constant, high-pitched whir replaced the intense light, numbing his hear. Slowly, he eased the eyelids open. Way up there, he could see the blue equine flapping her wings. Something glowing on her head was shooting noisy rays of energy to the darkness. Above her was another horse. This one was white and had, much like the one he had met, a large, wavy mane floating about with some apparent magic; only it sported many bright colours instead of a deep blue.
 
    “I knew you’d come!” the midnight blue horse shouted, turning to the man.
 
    “Stop wasting time, Luna!” ordered the white horse. “We still have to beat this beast.”
 
    The two flying horses went back to their invisible conflict. All he could see were sparks flying into the darkness.
 
    What am I supposed to do, anyway? It’s not like I can even fly to know what’s in there.
 
    He filled his pockets with his hands and sighed. There was nothing to do besides observing. In his boredom, he scratched his nose - it was growing horribly itchy. Nonchalant, he raised his head even more, leaving it in an uncomfortable angle and looked back at the dark of that tree-cave environment. Enveloped in the misty dark, he found a flat, circular surface. It’s probably the ceiling, he thought, only to dismiss the idea as he saw some mass growing upwards from it, like it was a platform. The white unicorn sent another flash that flooded the entire cave. The man covered his eyes once more and, after the burst of light became shy enough, he looked to the place where whatever they were fighting was supposed to be.
 
    His eyes met a collection of sharp, bent cones that glowed against the dark. The cones drew a smile dripping a shiny fluid. Over the smile was a pair of red slashes, surrounded by a wrinkly glow. A low and raspy roar echoed from it. The walls of the cave vibrated, and the circular object over the horses shook violently, flinging sawdust in every way. Another roar invaded the air. Under the man, the ground shook, shifting under his toes as he tap-danced to remain upright. The floor rippled, eventually fooling one of his feet to step on the wrong place. Twisting his ankle, he fell on his face.
 
Specks of dust fell over him and tickled his nose, making him let out a loud sneeze. He rolled on his back and faced the ceiling. Another wave of dust fell over him, burning his nostrils with more sneezes. His lungs screamed in pain and his red nose dripped some fluid which he tried to sniff back in. With some effort, he sat up, leaning on his right arm and looked up once more. Just over his head, he could see something. From what he could perceive through the dark tendrils of the cave, it was a large, rigid object. It seemed to be shifting his shape; it was growing bigger... It was growing bigger. Wait, it’s getting bigger. Wait. Oh, sh-! The man rolled away to his left, just mere moments from the piece of debris crashing against the ground.
 
    He looked back at Celestia and Luna. The object over them was dropping some fragments and shaking more violently, hitting the far walls of the cave. The face in the mists of the void was glowing with a greater shine. He felt a goose bump on the bottom of his spine grow and creep up to his hair, where it exploded throughout his whole, shivering body. He knew now what he had to do. He clenched his fists and retracted the flexed arms along his body, focusing. The itch on the nose grew stronger. No, I have to focus. I have to help them. Come on... you can do this. His breathing became harder, heavier. He could feel his lungs demanding for more air. He couldn’t breath. His nose was blocked.
 
    He woke up.