The Timeless Chronicle

The last lights are setting into their places. The scene before me differs from the one before. I'm still in a castle, but not the royal palace. The architecture seems ancient, even though the materials seem new. The room in itself is poorly designed and even I, just an amateur architect, could have made it seem less cramped and heavy. The stone walls differ from the stone floor and ceiling just by small openings working as windows.

I look outside the window and see that the ground is not so far off, and so isn't the top of this castle. The concept of a hole as a window is  also frightening, the more so that it seems to be fall outside. There is no sign of isolation at all, and I be it is going to be freezing in the winter months. I don't really recognize the outside, but judging by the structure the built is very primitive. Built to last, not please.

I turn back to the room, and in one of the corners, further away from the window I see a desk, with a scribe behind it. The pony, a green unicorn in a robe, was levitating a pen, carefully copying word from one parchment to another. As the young stallion breathes, I see a small cloud form from his breath.  It is freezing. It doesn't seem to bother him much though, which is incredible, considering his meager build.

I try to open the door to the next room, but as I put my hoof onto the doorknob, I touch nothing. I see my hoof, partway through the door. I quickly pull back, trying to gasp. No sound is made, as no particle of air seems to move because of me. I think I am dead. I didn't fully realize this up until now. I am dead. Incorporeal. Intangible. Just a thought, a mind, a soul.

I try summoning my magic. I can feel all of the complex movements of it around me, as well as its concentration inside the castle rather than outside, but as hard as I try, there force is elusive. It seeps through my grasp. I'm naked. Stripped of any medium of influence to  this world. I cannot do anything anymore. There is no more point to me here.

I have waited for quite some while, not doing anything. There is no reason to anyway. Why care? I try to close my eyes. There is blackness. And bits of light start gathering again, filling my vision. My eyes are open again. I haven't opened them, but here they are. I try to open my eyes. I can't. They are open.

There has to be a reason for why I'm seeing this. Otherwise I wouldn't be seeing this. Everypony and everything has a purpose. I just have to find out why. And I won't be able to do it whilst sitting here and complaining about death. Or, actually, I might be able to. It seems that I'm kept aware forcefully, which means, the same force could just give me the answer, and let me be.

I have sat a while and thought. The real problem here isn't why I should be out there looking for clues about my purpose. It is, why not? Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And they can't even kill me now, so there will be no setback.

I carefully stand up, and wobbling a bit, go through the door. I don't feel anything. I'm on the other side. It's a hall, furnished with a long red carpet. The carpet seems worn out and poorly made, but more worthy of my eye are the walls. There are banners in two places of the wall, both showing the same herb. An ornamented bronze pickax, with a bold bar placed across. The herb of the Metal Bloodline. It seems, together with the architectural style, to be around the time of the great migration. Plus or minus a hundred years.

I hear commotion in one of the rooms adjacent to the hall. I quickly float through the wall, in search of the source, and land in a mess. It seems to be some sort of alchemy lab, but most of the tubes and vials are out of order, and just a few don't lack labels. I'm thinking about taking all this and straightening it, when another outburst catches my attention again. It's two ponies, arguing. One of them, a small mare, orange in colour, in a baggy brown cloak, and at the other I try to gasp again. The pointy blue hat sits next to him, but his blue starred cloak jingles every time he makes a move, because of the many bells attached to it. I am just meeting Star Swirl the Bearded, live. Or at least he is.

I start listening in on their conversation. It is mostly Star Swirl bashing this Moony Charm, for not coming to the experiment on time.

"And now, that thou haveth finally decided to crawl out of thy hiding hole and comed," Star Swirl continues, "Thou forgetst to bring thy research! We thought We haveth been clear when We said this was imperative!" Charm looks as if she regretted she had come here after all.

She just peeps out, "I forgot to do it –" at which Star Swirl lashes out even more.

"Not even done! Maybe We should haveth picked another for Our student."

Wait, Student? The orange filly, with a grey mane and pink streak in her hair, the student of Star Swirl himself? Then this has to be Clover. Why is she being called something else?

Moony kneels before Star Swirl and begs for forgiveness. Her mentor stands above her, and looks away in disappointment, but then his stern image breaks, and he relaxes as he tells her not to repeat such a thing, and that the King does not wish for delays on research.

The scene begins flickering, and the lights begin moving again. I'm finished here, but what does it mean? I have no idea if I learned anything here. Maybe it is too early to ask questions yet, but I can't stop wondering. The scene has disappeared.