Nothingness, absolute and heavy, composed the scene. It was dark and complete, it held no prisoners inside it’s empty prison and it liked it that way. It wasn’t noisy, it wasn’t silent. It was simply nothing. Not warm or cold or bright or dark. It was merely there, in the sense that it wasn’t. A conflict with itself, it existed where it didn’t. Where the forces that form and shape the world are completely absent, and always have been. And it was in this perfect state of empty balance that everything thrived, because nothing else did. Dark and dreary and having no company but itself to keep.
And, of course, the brown unicorn who ran through it.
The quadruped dashed as quickly as he could through the void that encompassed it. Visible for miles upon miles as the only thing that existed there at all, not that anything else would be able to see him. Despite his ridiculous dash, he body was not decorated with sweat, his heart was not laboring against it’s own constraints and his breath was steady and calm. Though, of course, there was no air for him to breath.
His muscles rippled with each cycle of his panicked, hasty steps. Somehow propelling himself forward through the emptiness, propelling him onward into the vast sea of nothing that swirled around him, invisible and immortal. His eyes darted around his surroundings, seeing nothing and everything at the same time. He knew something should be there, hanging in the air before him, but he couldn’t see it. He knew that he should be somewhere, but he wasn’t. He knew he should hear something, but he was deaf to it.
He ran onward, whether toward or away from something he had no idea, but something told him it was the latter. A silent whisper in his ear that told him of all the things that were supposed to be, but weren’t. It was haunting, this dark and foreboding non-existence that he found himself in. It seemed to pierce into his very soul, to corrupt and torture the very essence of his being, changing him. At the same time it wrapped him in a warming comforting blanket, like a caring mother when you come in from the storm. And so, he wasn’t sure he if he wanted to run as far away from this odd empty place as he could, or if he wanted to stay there forever, never to be tormented by what may lay outside it.
In the end though, it wasn’t his choice.
He started, as if awakening right before he hit the ground. All the things that had been missing from his run showed themselves now. Sweat soaked his brown coat clear through and matted the fur to his skin as it allowed the piercing cold air to cut through any semblance of body heat he might have had. His heart rapidly fought, trying to escape from his chest with every anxious beat, pumping his blood as much as it could, fighting to keep him alive despite the lack of danger. His breathing was labored, working coincide with his heart and trying to meet it’s increased demand for air.
He stayed like this for a moment, illegitimate panic torturing his body, forcing his organs to work harder than they were used to, but eventually he managed to slow his breathing, his heart eventually surrendering it’s fight and falling back into it’s normal rhythm. He stared upward, upwards towards a plain ceiling that now filled his entire view. He breathed, letting the deep blue view above his head calm him mentally, letting it fill his mind and wash away the gunk that seemed to be clinging to his brain.
“Are you alright?” came a call from nearby. He didn’t move to answer it quite yet, he merely continued to slow his breathing until he began to inhale and exhale in a slow, practiced speed. He could hear the pattern of breath that didn’t match his own, they were coming at a mediocre, regular speed. Like a normal pony would breathe. After one more series of his calming oxygen intakes, he decided to indulge the pony who had spoken to him.
“I’m fine, I believe. Thank you for your concern.” He stated, keeping his eyes on the deep blue above him. Not quite feeling it important to see who he was talking with quite yet. Right now, this deep blue was what he needed. More than anything in the world, he needed this. He needed to see the solid roof above him, that something existed. And, at the back of his mind, he was worried that if he turned his head everything would vanish once again.
“Oh, you’re conscious again. That’s good to hear.” Relief poured through the voice. It was a plain tone of voice, decorated slightly by a hint of higher learning but at it’s core it was common. Not prim, not proper. “When we found you in the middle of town, we were worried for the worst. Luckily, Nurse Redheart managed to resuscitate you, after that, your vitals were normal and you were just sleeping.”
“I see.” It was all he could really say. There wasn’t really anything else he could add to the story, having been unconscious for it’s duration. Deep blue, deep breaths.
“She mentioned that you were showing symptoms of poisoning, and that they had found unidentified substances in your bloodstream. Do you remember anything a-”
“No.” He cut the pony off.
“No what?”
“No, I don’t remember anything.” As he said it, it occurred to him that this fact should have been worrying, but it didn’t really do anything for him. It was merely a true statement, no emotional attachment to it in the least. Which was odd to him, to say the least. “How old do I look to you?” He asked, his gaze still not moving.
“How old?” The speaker seemed taken off guard by the question. “I’d say twenty or so, why?”
“Well, then I should have some memories shouldn't I? I wonder why I don’t.” He paused. “Did the nurse say anything about brain injury?”
“No, she didn’t say anything about injury at all. Just what she thought was poisoning.”
“So, it’s not physical amnesia then. Huh.” At this, he fell silent. Though he would have liked to say he was merely thinking about it in all reality it departed from his active thinking process as quickly as it had arrived. Now, his mind was just blank.
“Well... I’m not entirely sure what to tell you Mister...”
“Just Catalyst is fine.” He said, then began to muse on how he knew his name. Where as before he hadn’t had any recollection of it. It seemed more like instinct than an actual thought, as if that were what he always answered with, and had merely grown used to it. “I think that’s it anyway, seems right doesn’t it?”
“I honestly can’t say, I’ve never seen a cutie mark like yours before, so I couldn’t say I have any idea what name would fit it.” Catalyst prepared to look at his flank but stopped himself, remembering the mark vividly in his mind. “It’s two golden rods, with a-”
“Bottle in between, yes, that rings a bell.”
“So you’re remembering already, well that’s good news. I’m sure you’ll be over it in no time.” Unmistakable cheer was resident in the voice, proving the sincerity of the hope. Silence hung about for a while after he words had faded from the air, Catalyst in no mood to break it as he stared upwards continually. “Anyway, I’m Twilight Sparkle. It’s a pleasure to meet you Catalyst.”
The stallion let his head roll to the side slightly, changing his view to face the speaker. A unicorn, decorated with varying intensities of violet stared back at him, smiling. Something about the way she held herself told Catalyst she was somebody of importance. She held power and magnificence in her very form and if he were a betting man he would say she would have no qualms using it when she deemed it necessary. His eyes slowly moved down her body, from her cheerful face to her neck until they eventually looked at her sides.
What he saw there made him look once again to the top of her head, to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Nearby, he spotted a tiara on a desk that didn’t match the room, leading Catalyst to suppose it had been teleported in. Turning his attention back to Twilight, he looked deeply into her eyes, seeing the glimmer and happiness and hope he somehow knew he would find there. “The pleasure, Princess Sparkle, is all mine. I assure you.” She seemed to blush at the use of her title, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by Catalyst, then she coughed in a manner of clearing her throat and preparing to change the subject at the same time.
“Just Twilight is fine. Now, I was wondering why you came to Ponyville, but if what you say is true, I can’t imagine that you’d be able to tell me.” She looked towards Catalyst expectantly nonetheless. Causing him to shake his head, dousing her hopes, and wiping the smile from her face for half a moment. She recovered quickly though, and a smile once again adorned her features. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected. I merely wanted to make sure that you didn’t come with a warning of some kind.”
“And what kind of warning might I have brought?” Catalyst asked, catching something in the tone of her voice that he couldn’t let slip by.
“Nothing of importance, I assure you. I merely wanted to make sure.”
“Oh, I see.” Catalyst stated, deciding to ignore the fact that she had just bold-facedly lied to him. “Well, princess,” he said, ignoring her wish to use her name. “It seems I’ve not many choices on where to go. I don’t suppose you have any place in mind?”
“I asked for one of my dearest friends to prepare you a room, deciding that whether or not you were here with a message, you could use a place to stay. She seemed more than happy to make room for a new pony and I think you will get along great with her.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you have any idea on if I’ll get along with her? We only just met, and not very deeply I might add. We have each other’s names and that’s about it.”
“Well, as far as why I think that, it’s mostly to do with the fact that she’ll do just about anything to get along with a pony, and I can’t imagine that you’d be any different, Catalyst.” That smile was driving him insane, it was always there, even while they were just talking casually, she was always smiling. It was starting to be less inviting and more and more sickening with every second.
“I see, well, we should get going then.” Catalyst slid out of bed, placing his hooves upon the ground and reveling in the feeling of something holding him up, something solid pushing back against him. Twilight jerked slightly, as if preparing to catch Catalyst should he fall, but when he managed to keep his balance the princess let out a sigh of relief.
She flashed her horn, causing the desk to disappear from view and the tiara to teleport to the top of her head, right behind her horn. The way it sat on her head was odd, as if she hadn’t gotten used to wearing it. Catalyst’s observations of the princess’s headgear were quickly removed from his mind as those white teeth stared him in the face from the crescent shaped hole that seemed to always be present. “Alright, I’ll take you there, but I feel like I should warn you that this friend of mine can be rather excitable. I would suggest that you express patience with her.”
“I will indeed, your highness.” That caught her, her smile faltered. She didn’t quite frown but she was clearly unhappy about the title. “Now without further ado, the sooner we get there the longer you’ll have to work on your important royal duties, don’t you think?”
Somewhere deep inside her, Twilight summoned the smile once again to her face, though this time it was clearly more lackluster than before. She nodded and walked out of the room, leaving Catalyst to follow her. Before he left the room he turned around once again and stared at the ceiling, taking one final deep breath before he left. ‘Onwards and upwards’ He thought to himself, then left to follow the departing princess.
Author's Note
Let's start a story, shall we?
