Wish: Book II - The Truth

Chapter 1: Awoken

Everything is so dark, and so cold. I feel weightless; floating aimlessly in this chasm of shadows lost and alone. I can’t breathe, no matter how hard I try, as if air doesn’t exist in this realm. But, I can hear sounds suddenly fade in. Sounds of a breeze slipping through cracks, howling and whispering in my ears. I can feel something; something frigid and rough. I bend each one of my fingers waking their bones and feeling the small loose pebbles scattered about the ground. I feel a rush of this chilling air travel down the canal of my throat and fill my chest. I can feel warmth from the side of my face, and the other side bears the chills. The doors to my eyes fling open, and I can feel this body of mine lift up into the air in a jolt. I feel myself become overwhelmed with the idea that I can now see the world that has been hiding from me. Above, an orange glow pulses over the gray rounded stone cave that expands far beyond the field of shadows. The long pointed stones reaching down to me, and as my back falls back down onto the rough dry ground I can feel the heart in my chest beginning to pump vigorously. Bending the joints in my legs they feel like they’ve been asleep for ages. I lift up my trembling arms and closely look at these hands of mine. Staring at my palms I wonder what I am, where I came from . . . where I had been all this time where time itself didn’t seem to exist.

I breathe in this new world of rock and rubble with my eyes and the feeling of blood flowing through the entirety of my body. The air I breathe is cold, but my body feels warm. I rest my hand on my chest and feel a smooth cold cloth. I find my arms are covered by this same material. It’s black, and the cuffs are outlined in a white that stands out from the dark of this cave. I feel something touching the back of my neck, and reaching back I realize that a fairly tall collar is tucked around it. My muscles feel loose and weak, my bones feel hollow and frail. Helplessly I lay, on this cold bed of stone blanketed in this sleek black material. I feel the need to call out for help, but I cannot unlock my voice from the gates of my throat.

“I don’t believe it. . . You’re awake!” Says a voice from behind the shadows.

At the sound of this voice I twist and turn frantically for whom it may belong to, to beg for help, or to lay in . . . fear. Fear is what’s coursing through my veins, and it feels never-ending.

“Do not be afraid. Can you stand? Go on, try to stand.” He says.

Brought upon the task I begin to think of a way to complete it. I fill my lungs with the cold air and lift up my torso. I can feel my chest tighten and my stomach tense and quiver. Unable to hold myself up I fall back down flat on my back. I turn and push myself over my shoulder so my stomach drops onto the ground. I can feel the cold stone against my cheeks, and the small sharp bits of rock poking them. Breathing in I catch dust and the taste of soil. Pressing my hands against the ground they begin to shake violently as I attempt to push myself up. I can feel the blood building up in my hands and arms as the muscles tighten.

“Yes, come on you’ve almost got it!” He says encouragingly.

But his words have no effect on my performance. My feeble arms give up and allow my body to fall back to the ground. Now, I feel weaker, and exhausted. I cannot do it, I cannot stand. It almost feels impossible.

“No come on now. You can’t give up already. Try once more, just once more.” He says.

Lifting my chin up from the ground I scan around the entirety of the cave, but cannot find anyone. Laying my head back down from my neck straining to keep it up I let myself breathe in consecutively to relieve my body. Once again I place my palms against the ground, and again push my arms to the limit. This time I am able to lock my elbows together to ensure that this time I will not fall. Readying my right leg I quickly pull it inward and rest on the knee. Now, I do the same with my left. In another quick jolt I stomp my foot against the ground and rest an arm on my thigh. I notice that my foot is being protected by a black shoe pointed at the front. What really catches my eyes is the silvery buckle that keeps the shoe tightened. All I must do know is get on both feet, which is the stage I have dreaded. I can now feel the muscles in my leg tense as I set my other foot down onto the ground. My body starts to wobble out of balance as I try to stand myself up fully erect. I hold out my arms to maybe sustain my stance, and it works. Keeping my body as still as possible I take a moment to realize that I’ve won, and I feel amazed at myself for being able to now stare down to the ground instead of feeling like I’m a part of it.

“Good. Now, turn to the light.” He says.

Twisting my body I slide my shoes along the ground positioning them so that they are pointed towards the little orange light emanating from the ground. A small delicate sliver of flame dances with glee as smaller spurts of light flicker from the top of it. It rests in a small nest of twigs and grass bordered by little stones.

“Now walk. Step towards the light.”

Shot with his new request I stand clueless on where to even begin. I don’t even dare to make a single attempt to step forward. Fearing the plummet back to the ground I keep my stance, not wanting to progress any further.

“You can do it. I know you can, and I know ‘you’ know you can.”

I know I cannot delay it any longer, I must try. I can already feel my body smashing into the stone ground and the ache in my bones. My cheeks and eye brows tense up as they expect the same outcome of pain. Lifting up my right leg I can already feel myself wobble, so I quickly stomp back down ahead of me. I do the same with the left, except I nearly lose my footing and desperately try to keep my body standing. I keep still with my legs far apart in this awkward position, too afraid to continue. I feel that even the slightest movement will cause me to topple down.

“Don’t stop now you’re almost there! Just keep going. Don’t think about falling, just think about reaching the light.”

I follow the voice’s advice and focus my eyes on the pulsing flame. I can feel them becoming almost hypnotized by its incandescence. My arms steady, and the trembling about my body seems to have stopped for the moment. Straightening my legs out I stand tall with no intention of turning away from the flame. One at a time I lift up each leg inching my way to the light. Despite all my shuddering and shaking I keep my attention focused on the flame, and with every step I take the less struggle I feel. My posture smoothens out, and the fear simply disappears. Before I even know it I am towering over the young flame, and a wave of disbelief drifts across my mind.

“You see? I told you you could do it.” Says the voice.

My attention is thrown from the flame out into the shadows ahead, as the voice sounded like it came from just beyond there. I hear steps drawing near, and in the little flame’s puddle of light two dark hooves cross the boundary between the dark and the light. My eyes fearfully move their sight up to see the black shrouded torso of the being in front of me. His thick black cloak is very worn and tattered. It appears to be just a mass of dark clothing all stitched together, but looks like it could keep one very warm inside. A thin gray scarf is wrapped all around his neck, and with the brown long-brimmed hat over his head his face is completely hidden. From the scarf it looks like a torn black cape drapes over his back.

“What is your name?” He asks.

I . . . I don’t think I have a name. Even if I did I wouldn’t be able to share it with him. It feels like a stone has been lodged in my throat the more I try to use my voice. No matter how much I beg for it to show it stays locked away.

“Come on, speak.” He whispers. “Tell me your name.”

“. . . A—.” I can feel my voice starting to slip out. “A-Air-eal . . . Aireal.”

The effort it took to push out my voice has tired me to the extent where I need to take a moment to breathe. But I am shocked at what left my lips: Aireal. Is that my name? Why else would I have said it? It was as though I already had the answer prepared, but I don’t recall ever thinking of such a name. I look on at the dark-clothed figure awaiting some kind of response.

“It ‘is’ you. After all this time, you’ve come back.”

The figure tips up his hat and lowers his scarf down to his neck as the flame’s light illuminates his face. I can now see his snout and big brown eyes, his pale white coat and silver mane that partially hides one of his eyes. He looks as though he hasn’t slept in days with the grayness under his eyes. I stare at him in confusion, I don’t understand what he means by ‘I’ve come back’. I’ve never been here before. I don’t think I’ve ever been . . . anywhere.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” He asks.

I then shake my head no.

“I was afraid this would happen. . .” He mutters to himself. “Listen to me, I want you to take a good long look around you. Does ‘this place’ seem at all familiar?”

Checking all around the dark cave there isn’t anything that calls out to me. Something I hadn’t noticed before is all the scattered papers and buckets of paint tucked away in the dark. Inside the buckets I see the long handles of brushes sticking up from the pigmented liquid, and around the brim drips of the paint have dried and hardened over the paper. As I turn all the way around I notice that behind me is a frozen pond of water, and on the other side of this pond is a pitch black tunnel. Resting atop the surface of the ice is a bundle of what looks like twigs, I’m a bit too far away to be able to tell. Just trying to focus on the little bundle makes my eyes ache and my vision blur. Leaning against the tavern’s walls are stacks upon stacks of canvases. Something I also notice is that embedded in the cave is some kind of stone that appears almost glassy. Turning back to the stallion as he eagerly awaits an answer, I shake my head again. Disappointment overcomes him, and he depressingly lowers his head.

“Right uh . . . just. . .” The stallion puts his hoof under his chin and turns his head away. “Why don’t you just go and wait over there; I need uh . . . I need a moment to think.”

The stallion turns around and paces around the other side of the cave leaving me near the tiny flame. Clueless I decide to leave him alone and retreat to the back of the cave to get a better look at some of the things around here. With the sounds of the pitter pattering of the stallion’s hooves and the crackling of the little flame behind me I use my new ability to walk towards the strange stone embedded into the rock. I curiously draw my eyes closer to its sleek and smooth surface and can see the rock of the cave right through it. Nearby I notice that there’s actually another one of these in the wall. I find that there’s many more of them big and small clustered all around me growing from the rocks. I was never able to notice them because of the darkness.

My eyes are lost in how fascinated they are with the appearance and quantity of these stones. Noticing the sudden silence of the stallion’s hoof-steps I turn my head and see him standing still staring down at the ground in deep thought. I remember there was something else that I wanted to see, the little bundle of twigs on the pond. Walking over to the ice I carefully squat down afraid I might lose my balance. Now with a better look at the bundle I realize that it’s actually a pile of flowers. They all are coated in frost, and their colors are very pale. I reach out and grab one by the stem as it stays as stiff as a stick. It feels so light that any sort of pressure could crush this little flower into pieces. Its pedals are frozen solid, and as I run my fingers over them it feels like they can break off at any second.

“Hey! Don’t touch those!” The stallion shouts.

His intense voice bounces off the cave walls and into my ears triggering me to drop the flower and raise my hands. The stallion gallops towards me with the end of his scarf and torn cape waving behind him. His hooves scrape against the ground as he comes to a sudden stop near the edge of the frozen pond. He delicately grabs the flower I held by his teeth and gently lays it back on the top of the pile. My hands tremble as I sit near him cowering still in shock by his shout.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout; but please, please don’t touch these.” He says calmly.

Too afraid to respond the stallion turns to me waiting for me to express my understanding, so I nervously nod my head. He gets up and walks away, and now I feel too afraid to touch anything else. Behind me I notice one of the many stacks of canvases near the wall. I can feel my curiosity trying to take over me, but I refrain from even thinking about looking at them.

“. . . You can look at those if you want.” Says the stallion. “Just do be careful with them.”

With the stallion’s permission I lift up one of the canvases with caution. Peeking at its surface it’s too dark to see what’s been painted on it. So, I carefully take it from the stack and hold it in front of me. My eyes travel down the canvas exploring the intricate detail of the scene being depicted. There are trees crooked and narrow, their branches are like bony arms reaching out to the dingy wooden cabin in the center. Clumps of moss are growing along their trunks in a variety of greens and browns, and strands of it dangle from the branches. It looks just so real that I feel like I’m actually standing behind these trees staring out at the little wooden shack. An orange light is shining through the cabin’s window and is cast over the smooth mud. Above the roof, as its shingles are peeling right off the wood, is a solid gray sky.

Curious to see what may lie in the other paintings I set this one aside and grab a new one from the pile. The next is a scene of a small grassy area surrounded by trees. Compared to the previous painting these trees are flourishing with life as the Moonlight shines off their rich green leaves. The dark curtain of the sky is dotted with stars, and the Moon almost appears to glow right off of the canvas. Beyond the trees is pure darkness, but little sparkles of light make it more vibrant. I can tell that the grass and leaves are sprinkled with small drops of water as the light reflects off their round surface. My eyes are mesmerized by the Moon, and are given a sense of comfort the longer they stare.

But my curiosity rages on, so I set this painting aside and pick up another. This one is not a scene of nature, but a portrait of a mare. The first thing I notice are her big luscious green eyes that make me feel like she really is staring back at me. I can see the dimples in her cheeks as a smile spreads under her tiny snout. Her mane is a thick red, and it is being blown back by the wind. Her coat is a vanilla white, and she is wearing a beautiful white dress that is swaying in the wind. Behind her is a violet sky spotted with stars near the top, and glowing light posts on the bottom half of the canvas. My eyes have become dazed at the magnificence of this piece. I can almost feel the wind in this painting blowing against me, and I can almost hear the crickets that would be chirping.

“Do you like that one?”

I am broken out of my hypnotic state as the stallion stands directly behind me. He takes a seat near me while I let my heart settle.

“This is probably my favorite paintings out of all of these.”

“Wh-Who . . . Who is she?” I ask.

“Somepony . . . very close to me. . .”

The stallion went on with his story. He told me the mare’s name is Aria, and about the night he met her. He said that he used to be the new pony in town, and he was merely just trying to find a new location for some inspiration for his art. He said that when he first saw her he could already feel the butterflies in his stomach fluttering about. She invited him to attend a party at the local park, and so he accepted. The rest of the night they spent together dancing the time away. He told me that during those moments where he held her hoof he could tell that this was going to last forever. But then, his tone changed. He muttered that she was stolen from him as he turned his head to the pile of flowers on the frozen pond. I could tell his heart was growing heavy as he told me what happened to her. He said his town was getting invaded, overrun, and in the midst of trying to escape he lost her. She plummeted down into a deep dark canyon, and she drowned in the very pond next to us. After he explained his story I could feel my heart turning blue as he explained the purpose of the flowers.

“Every so often, when I leave the safety of this cave, I’ll find a new flower. I make sure I bring it back, careful not to break it, and I leave it here . . . for her.”

“. . . I-I’m . . . S-Sorry.” I say trying to push my voice to explore new sounds.

“You don’t have to be sorry, because of me I had to watch her vanish right before my eyes. . . And I let the same thing happen to another friend of mine. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing.”

I can tell he’s put himself in a deep state of thought; and I, without words to speak, allow a silence to fall upon us. From him I can tell that he is being haunted by more than what he’s told me, there’s something else, I can almost feel it.

“So, how’s your head?” He asks.

I sit in silence unsure of what to say, so I look on at him confusedly.

“Your head, does it hurt? I say, that was one nasty hit on the head you had. It’s no wonder you can’t remember anything. Your slurred speech, you can barely walk . . . but you knew your name, that’s a start.”

Curiously I touch the top of my head to check for any signs of pain or damage, but Valiari quickly stops me.

“Don’t touch it! Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I bandage it up for you.”

Out of fear from his outburst and confusion from the situation I refrain from touching my head and lower my hand. I begin to wonder, perhaps . . . I really did hit my head. It’s the only way I wouldn’t be able to remember anything. It would explain all of this, and after all the things he said . . . it surely must be true. But, who was I before?

“Now, do you remember ‘my’ name?”

I then shake my head no.

“You poor fellow, can’t even remember my name. Well then I suppose we’ll just have to start over, maybe it’ll come back to you later. My name is Valiari, as you’ve seen I’m bit of a painter.”

“They’re amazing.” I say without so much of a struggle.

“Thank you. . . Here, take a look at this one.”

Valiari then reaches over and takes out a canvas from the center of the pile. I set aside the painting of the mare and hold the new painting outward to get a good look at the scene. With a grip along the sides of the canvas I realize how much larger this one is compared to the previous ones.

“This, is the land in which we live.” He says.

The painting depicts an enormous scene of color and life. The bottom half of the canvas shows me a large thick forest of trees that span all the way up to the horizon. Violet mountains topped with snow spread across the canvas, and the Sun is nestled in between one of their valleys. The Sun’s golden light spreads across the paper and changes to orange and red the higher you go. Almost half the right side of the canvas is taken up by the side of a mountain as the Sun’s glow covers the slate and trees along the mountainside. As my eyes are carried up to the top of the mountain I notice that a castle coated in many colors such as gold, white, and violet is built along its side. It is composed of many towers of different sizes and shapes with long pointed rooftops. From the top of the mountain a cool blue waterfall reaches down and fills the castle’s moat.

“See that castle there? That is called Canterlot Castle, it’s where the two Princesses that rule the land live. They are the ones that control the Sun and the Moon when it’s their time to rise. . . Except, this land doesn’t look like it did anymore.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Come on, I’ll show you.”

Valiari gets to his hooves and walks towards the darkness behind us. He turns and beckons me to follow, and so I use the cave’s wall nearby to help me stand as I use my hands to follow up the wall. I can feel the moisture and small pieces of rock stick to my palm, so I rub my hands together to try and get them off. Valiari walks over to a big black bag tucked away in the dark, and bends over to pull out a broken tree branch with something tied to the top in cloth. He carries it clenched by his teeth back to the little flame and sticks the tip of it inside. Immediately the clothed top of the branch catches fire and it illuminates the parts of his body once hidden by shadows.

I walk towards him, and he guides me further into the cave away from the little flame. I can feel the air getting colder and the wind more persistent. My skin is forming goose bumps, and my muscles are beginning to shiver. I can feel tiny flakes of ice hit my cheeks as the chilling air easily finds its way behind the protection of my clothing. My stomach tenses as the air chills my entire torso. I grip the sides of my arms and rub them vigorously to maybe generate some heat, but it doesn’t work very well. I can feel the ground below me turn soft and cushiony as my shoes sink down into it. Every time I lift up my legs to take a step forward many flakes of ice find their way into the soles of my shoes. The stallion stops as the fire illuminates the sparkly white ground below, and so I halt.

“Go on, take a look.” Says Valiari.

I dig my shoes into the ground going deeper and deeper with every step. It reaches up past my ankles, and I stand motionless as my eyes absorb the new world ahead. Thousands of small bundles of ice gently fall down from the charcoal black sky and join the rest below. The trees all are bare, there isn’t a single leaf on their branches. The wind disturbs the flakes of ice along the ground blowing them around crazily. It’s hard to see past the illumination of the fire as it appears that a black curtain of darkness blocks everything the light cannot touch. But, from what I can see, this coating of white covers everything around me.

“The snow never stops, it’s been able to blanket the entire land.” Says Valiari.

Suddenly an explosion of white light flashes from the sky revealing the rest of what cannot be seen for just a quick second. I saw just as he said, the same thing for what looked like miles. Just forests of trees sheeted in snow. I almost thought I saw small buildings in the distance. I saw something beyond it, but I couldn’t quite identify it. The sky begins to roar, and several quick flashes of light strike the horizon revealing the silhouette of the mountains far off in the distance. But I saw, along an enormous mountain much closer than those, the body of a castle with several towers reaching for the sky.

“That, is Canterlot Castle. I plan to journey up there soon.”

I whip around at the very words in surprise.

“W-Why?” I ask.

“Because I can feel that whatever, or whoever is responsible for this, is up there. I never see the Sun or the Moon anymore, so who knows what’s happened to the Princesses? I’m tired of hiding in this cave, watching all of this unfold before my eyes, to know that everypony in Equestria has suffered and there was nothing I could do to stop it! Now, it’s time to fight back. It’s time to take our land back, and rid it of this curse. . . But I can’t do it alone. Of course me being a unicorn could just cast a spell to teleport there myself, but this cold . . . it’s done something to me. It has stunt my ability to utilize my magic, which is why I had to stay hidden like a helpless little animal. I was able to warm up with the fire, but it only gave me enough energy for one single spell.”

“What w-was it?”

“Well, I used my energy to wake you. You were in a coma-like state for so long, and I didn’t know how long it would take for you to come back, if you ever would have woken up. I couldn’t take the chance; I needed you back. I can’t let any more time pass us by before this storm eventually claims us as well. I know you’re just starting to become familiar again with the world around you, and I know you must be afraid, but you must understand time is running out. So, will you come with me?”

The decision has been thrown right at me, and my mind feels it must make the choice quickly. I turn and stare out at the snow-coated land as more streaks of light strike the horizon. It feels like the land itself is listening, waiting to punish me for my answer. I can hear the clouds shouting at me after every strike of light. I need to think, what would ‘I’ really say? What was I like before I was knocked out? I have no idea if I was brave, courageous, or strong; because right now all I feel is cowardice.

“Aireal? Will you?” He asks once more.

My answer is stuck inside my throat, so I force my voice to let it go.

“. . . Yes.”