Within the Everfree, the first rays of sun’s light spackled leaves, small shafts bouncing twixt shadow’s down through canopy to splay shadows upon the forest floor below. Cricketsong already slowing became silence, Timberwolf returned to den to slumber day away, and in distant Froggy Bottom Bog, mud bubbled as great hydra heads rose in hextuplet sinuous winding to gaze blearily at all four corners of Equestria. Creatures of night and day sunk into slumber and awoke, great and small alike. Within the Everfree, the day dawned as normal.

    Within a cottage near the borders of the forest, a white rabbit thumped foot impatiently upon the ground as he stared at an empty bowl. All that remained were scraps of carrot from previous day; the expected leafy greens and fresh fruits not present. Foot thumped harder. Faster. Louder. And when no response came, he turned and bounded his way upstairs, leapt onto bed only to stare in befuddlement at slightly-tossed covers. Bounded down again, nose-wiggle in return to bird-chirp; creatures of fang and claw, yet from each a negative, confusion, uncertainty.

    Past the cottage, a village, and on outskirts of village an orchard. Apples plump and ripe sat waiting for bucking. None had yet risen to tend the fields. None risen to do the chores. Only a small canine racing to and fro, following her nose this way and that and every few seconds, a whine of confusion amidst an empty orchard.

    Within the village, a two-tiered shop, upper floors decorated by prancing faux-ponies to summon visitors to the carousel. Within the shop, white feline prowled the floor, voicing her displeasure in angry yowls. Bolts of cloth lay scattered, tugged and tossed by grasping claws shredding their anger and turning sensibility into disarray. Upon the upper floor, a bed. A bed pale green eyes led paws and tail in leap upon it, kneading and twisting about the unmade sheets. Sheets never once seen left unmade before, always immaculate come dawn, until now.

    Past the shop, a palace. Gleaming crystal, iridescent in sunlight. Silent in refracted halls, apart from occasional bleating ‘Hoo!’ as wings beat, from library to laboratory, kitchen to cupboard, bedroom to bathroom, and in each nothing, save what dust accumulated in dozen hours since draconic claws had last set dust-whisk to them. No scent of cooking eggs, nor pancakes, not coffee-roast filling air with aromas to call the grouchiest of bedheads to wake and dine. 

    Across the town, a bakery, bereft of smells of donut and bread, or cake and pastry. Ovens lay cold and chill, displays as empty as the streets outside. Alligator still as any other. Only occasional flick of tongue gave any sign of life.

    Above the town, amidst rainbow falls, a tortoise slumbered. Here, peace reigned. He slept in basket, unknowing and uncaring of the burdens below.

    And far, far away from the silent village, a mountain. Upon the mountain, a gleaming city. Birdsong the only quiet chorus to herald the dawn amidst cold hearth and home. The gleaming-white and gold and purple hues shone within the morning sun, time’s tarnish till now kept free by caring hooves and horns. Yet today, no new scaffoldings to wash windows or paint walls. Shops lay shuttered, carts scattered in alleys and thoroughfares, one unfortunate roof shattered by impact of a fallen chariot.

    In center of city, a palace. Spiraling towers, stout surface, spell-wrought gates stood firm and closed. Within, the ovens fell to dormancy, gardens untended, throne awaiting its lately-arriving owner.

    And deep within the palace, amidst doors with no guards, two rooms. In one, a bed - blankets even now falling slowly downwards, to sink to warm, weight-sunk mattress. In the other, a circle, spitting and hissing in spell-flame sapphire, shattered crystals set to nearby nexii, as last tendrils of magic crumbled, faded away, and the forlorn clatter of garb of state bounced and came to rest upon the stones below.