The Tale of Gaia

by ErraticOverlord

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Other, King Sombra, Crystal Ponies, Adventure, Raindrops, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1497

I never liked caves but I have to seal the gate. I have to. There is only a little bit left. I have to... My mind goes blank. I awaken in a strange room and I don't know where I am. I am alone, and I can't remember why.

I remember a cave with darkness inside. I don’t want to go in but I have to. I have to save… somepony. I remember I had friends, the best friends a stallion could have. I remember I have to close the gate, it is of great importance that I close the gate; but, I don’t remember where the gate is. The last thing I remember is that my name is Gaia; try as I might I can’t remember anything else.

my name is Gaia, and I am alone.

Published 2013-12-10 03:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-10 03:10:01 UTC

Memories

I never liked caves. Now it seems I’ll spend my last minutes here. I hear her screaming something at me but I can’t listen. If I listened now then I couldn’t seal the gate. Seal the gate? That’s right I was sealing the gate. I have to hurry or the gate won’t be sealed. What happens if the gate isn’t sealed; I just can’t quite remember. Reality fades in and out and occasionally I notice that I am in intense pain. Ouch I suppose. The gate is so close to being sealed I just have to get this one last bit. I close my eyes and my world fades to black.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I wake up for what seems like a sleep that lasted for ages. I remember almost nothing; I remember a cave with darkness inside. I don’t want to go in but I have to. I have to save… somepony. I remember I had friends, the best friends a stallion could have. I remember I have to close the gate, it is of great importance that I close the gate; but, I don’t remember where the gate is. The last thing I remember is that my name is Gaia; try as I might I can’t remember anything else.

I open my eyes to see a cold, confining, room. Plain, white, sheets cover me in cobwebs like I am a spider’s meal. The walls are a faded blue and there is a metal pole with some kind of see through substance-glass perhaps; attached to the bag is a pipe leading to my left fore-hoof where it is embedded in my skin.

I try to move but find myself able only to shift around and eventually fall onto the floor with my efforts, bringing the pole down on top of me. This surely made a lot of noise so, should there be anypony in the building, he or she will come calling at once. I lie on the ground with my right ear pressed to the cold tiles, listening for something; after several seconds , I hear hoofsteps-two pairs- coming towards my location at a slightly hurried pace. Jail guards perhaps, come to check on their prisoner. If they are jail guards then it would be prudent to hide and perhaps attack them while they’re caught off guard, or slip out while they’re searching for me. If they aren’t, I’m sure that action would be a grievous breach of conduct.

I decide they are most likely not jail guards as, if they were, they would be galloping towards me instead of the rather leisurely trot these ponies have taken. I decide to stand up so as to better present myself to these visitors but my body seems to still lack the ability to stand; that is quite the pity. Instead, I decide to simply flop over onto my stomach so that at least they will see my face when they walk in.

They walk in after a few moments and gasp when they see me on the floor. There are indeed two of them: one is a Unicorn mare with a dark blue mane, a pink coat, and light-blue, sapphire eyes. The other is an Earth pony stallion with a coat white as snow, a light purple mane, and orange eyes. My eyes lock on the mare’s eyes as she rushes towards me. Something about them is very familiar. I hear her say something to the stallion and I am lifted once again onto the bed. I open my mouth but no sounds come out: I have nothing to say.

After some fussing over me, a replacement of the-I can only assume it is glass- bag, and a glass of water tilted to my lips I feel rather refreshed. I still cannot move my hooves or really my body at all too much now. As far as I can tell I am in no pain. My limbs are still connected to my body. I conclude that there is simply nothing to stop me from moving my limbs. Despite this, I still find that I cannot. Well, so much for mind over matter.

I hear voices outside of my room; though I use ‘my’ rather loosely. They’re talking about me, saying something about whether I should be in a mental facility; it seems they agree that I should be able to move my hooves. How about that?

I see me, looking at a red bird; I see a Phoenix. Before I can examine this strange sight my keepers enter the room again, the stallion carrying a needle in one hoof.

I always found it strange when Earth ponies carried things in their hooves; I’d imagine it would be devilishly hard to move. Once more my train of thought is interrupted by a pain in my right fore-hoof, evidently I can feel pain; it seems the stallion has decided that arm would make a nice spot to put the large needle he was carrying. Oh well, it’s not like I can argue with him.

Curious, everything is growing fuzzy. I do believe I’m falling asleep; the needle probably has something to do with it but, falling asleep, I can’t seem to be able to focus on that too much. I get the worst feeling of déjà vu as I fall asleep. I don’t like the feeling one bit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I wake up and immediately notice a change in my location. Although slightly unsettling, this location appears significantly brighter and friendlier. I no longer have the glass container depositing its contents in my hoof and this significantly cheers me up; I must say I didn’t quite like that glass bag. Otherwise, the room is very similar: the sheets are of the same consistency, as are the walls and floors.

It seems this place is keeping a closer eye on me as, when I awaken, a different two mares walk in. They are wearing smiles like saddles when they see me and I do not like it very much at all. One of the mares is a muted yellow color with a red mane and I get a glimpse of her cutie mark, something I had not managed with the other mare and stallion, and see it is that of a small sun with a smiling face on it. I find this rather creepy but, as I don’t remember too much about the specifics of cutie marks, I let it go. The other mare has something of a chestnut mane and turquoise coat-an interesting combination to say the least-as well as a cutie mark of an open book; both sport dark green eyes looking down at me.

I try to move my limbs again, hoping that this installation will not prevent me from doing so, but find myself unsuccessful once again. This grows quite tiresome. The two mares watch my efforts with rapt fascination. Personally, I believe helping me would get more things done but I’ll take what I can get. The two mares exchange glances and the one with the turquoise coat trots away only to return after a few moments with a tray of food; I do not like this food. I feel that previously I have eaten fare much better than this. However, as I need to sustain my bodily functions I try to move my limbs to pick up the bowl; then I remember that I can’t move my limbs and simply stare despondently at the bowl’s contents. After a few moments the yellow mare takes the spoon from the bowl and feeds me something I’m better off not thinking about too much.

When that’s over with, the two mares leave me to get some rest, or so they said. I sit staring up at the ceiling. Then, I close my eyes, and remember.

* * * * * * * * * * *

I’m at a party. There are drinks and music and ponies I know. I think to myself, where in the name of the royal sisters is Melody? Melody, Melody was my friend. I gasp as I am attacked from behind; I fall on the floor and look up into the most beautiful emerald-green eyes I have ever seen. The mare on top of me is colored magenta with a silver mane and frosty blue tips on her dynamic wings. This, I know to be Melody. Ponies pass by, blushing when they see us share a kiss. She opens her mouth to speak and I open my eyes to reveal a room with bright walls and tight sheets; a discarded food tray sits in the corner. My memory is over, and I am, once more, alone.

Author's Note

Chapter 1. Unlike Reba, no one is prereading this so I'm just posting it. I hope you enjoyed reading.