Who am I?

The only other thing that death has not changed over these five thousand years is my colors. A thick, earthy green still colors my coat as it did so long ago, and a deep murky purple mane drapes over my shoulders.

I was a cheeky young filly, and my parents adored me, but they hated my annoying habit... I answered every single question someone asked me with a riddle. I would find some way to turn the answer into a question, and make the question nothing but hints to what the answer was. They put up with it well, even with it annoying them heavily.

In this time all ponies were nomads, without home as we constantly wandered in search of comfort and safety. Demon after demon spawned in this era, neither formed nor controlled by the Lunar Celestial himself...

My heart fluttered from the very moment I had caught glimpse of him one faithful night, falling head over heels for his beauty. He captured more of the night than even Luna could, and his skies were all the more wonderous because of it. He was a masterful artist, and he poured every ounce of his passion into the skies. This, and his daughter both share.

When looking at his mane you swore that if you reached out and touched it you would be greeted by silk, or perhaps even softer and smoother than even that, and this kiss of starlight on the palm of your hoof. His silver eyes gleamed in the dark, holding so much resilliancy and power, yet still kindness and compassion, like the moon itself made its home in his heart.

I could only be jealous of his spouse, the Solar Celestial, but as time passed I learned that they would never leave each other's sides. She stood tall and proud, her white reflecting sunlight into the eyes of any who looked upon her. Her mane looked like nothing but the blaze of her sun itself draped over her strong shoulders. Her eyes held such fury and power that you could very well go blind looking directly into them, yet if you stared just a moment longer you would've seen the mothering care they held as well.

The pair was worshiped highly, and thanked at each dawn and dusk for bringing the light and the rest. In honor of the night we would stay up until the moon was high in the sky, and in honor of the day we would celebrate for an hour each morn. If these traditions had lasted, Nightmare Moon would've never risen...

I digress.

In my early years, I avoided straying far from the safety of our small group of my mother, father, and a young couple. There was a couple who journeyed alongside us. The stallion, who's name I've also forgotten, would protect us from the shadows when they attacked. He was strong, for both his love, and us. It took a long time until I figured out why he would care, but eventually I realized that it was not thrill or praise he wanted, but to see me grow and flourish. To test himself to see if he was suitable to have a filly of his own some day. The mare in that couple gathered food with my mother. They kept us fed, and well cared for. The mare was also a healer. She'd stitch us up, kiss bruises, and sooth fevers, with such care that when being treated by the mare you felt as though she could've been your mother.

Each night the beass would creep from the trees of the Ever Free Forest to hunt us, terrorizing us in the dead of the night. To keep from being eaten in our sleep, we hid ourselves away when our eyelids started to feel like lead. "They're shadows..." I remember my mother telling me, "they will tear us to shreds if we don't take care." While other parents may have spared their children of such gruesome words, my mother and father did not hesitate to tell me the direct truth. They knew I would understand, and would heed their advice.

"They disappear when the sun rises," father added, "the sun's light hurts them."

~~

When we hid ourselves away each night, I'd stay up as long as I could, watching and studying the shadows that loomed over us each night. I had a sickly curiousity, but thankfully for me my parents never woke as I stared out to stare at the creatures of the night. It fascinated me how they walked as though they could see, yet had no eyes were to be seen on them. They lived their lives in total darkness, and were indeed shadows themselves. I always wondered, and still do, how they weren't controlled or created by the Lunar Celestial...

I would stay up as long as I could, just watching and listening to them. My eyes refused to stay open near the sun's rise, and fatigue would lull me into sleep for a shallow rest before my parents would wake me.

My days I spent learning. My parents knew how to read and write, and wanted me to know as well. I was a good learner, and progress was always steady. Mother often times did most of the teaching, giving a guiding hoof and patience. When my father stepped in, he aimed to challenge me, giving me a balance between easy and difficult.

I couldn't have had a better childhood, despite the constant movement.