Before a great wall of obsidian geode, there stood a flaming figure. It was not equine-- in fact, it was not built like any manner of creature she had seen with her own eyes. The visage was obscured by fabric, and she could see only the bottom half of its likeness. Condor watched warily as boiling, blistered hands extended towards her, and the chin moved as if it were trying to form words.

“...I…” A whisper echoed off the walls and reverberated around the cavern.

“I can’t understand you.” Condor moved forward a few paces, and the figure began to whisper louder-- still, she could not comprehend what was being said. Tongues of flame rippled forth from the cloth--which curiously did not burn-- and licked the air between them. She was close enough to feel the heat on the tip of her nose; there was a smell of burning hair, and a bubbling of the skin upon outstretched arms. In a split second, its head snapped upward-- beneath the shadow of the hood, Condor gazed into countless amber eyes. Adrenaline shot through her, and she reared upwards in a defensive posture, but the individual froze the very blood in her veins with a quick gesture of the right hand. Everything became eerily and suffocatingly silent as Condor was forced to stare into those unblinking eyes. 

“Thou would venture into this place of ruin , presuming to take that which hath outlived generations.” She could hear the voice as clearly as if it were in her own head. “Thou shalt die as a dog.” The hand that held her in its invisible grip closed into a fist, and she felt her body forced into the ground. Her heart was pounding. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to fight back-- to kill and to rend-- but she was held fast. This was a feeling of vulnerability that she had never known before.

The flaming being approached on skeletal feet-- Condor could see the flesh in some state of liquefaction from the eternal heat. It knelt down beside her.

“Do not toy with that which is beyond thy comprehension.”

There was an unbearable ringing in her ears, and the world went dark.

When Condor awoke, there was no indication of how long she’d been unconscious. The figure had seemingly vanished without a trace, if it had even existed to begin with. The mare struggled to an upright position, her body aching and exhausted. Before her, the wall of obsidian reflected millions of mirror images of varying sizes-- she could hardly recognize herself in the state she was in: overgrown mane, lost muscle mass, and scraggly coat.

How the mighty had fallen.