A Stranger in this Land.
"You are here, no escape from the visions of the world." -Aura
I cast my vision out upon the darkened plane obscured by shadow, beyond the mesa cradled by earth and toward the mountains where the great capitol stands; sentinel and stoic. As still and as unchanging as ever. A breeze bringing with it a bitter sweet sensation as it passes through me, to which I return a grateful smile to nature as I bow my head to her. It was enlightening to me- these whispered lullabies, singing to the trees while they dance in ceremonious rhythm. It was late noon but the day had already begun to cool down and with it coming the dew. Complimenting it's grassy threshold, the suns rays glow and bounce from them like little diamonds they glint and soon envelope me. A comforting atmosphere indeed. If only everyone felt this way, could just let themselves go for a few seconds and embrace the freedom that was so captivating.
Ironic really...
But it's true that many can't even experience a feeling like this- see the world like this.
So I let my imagination take control, begin pacing back and forth, allowing the thoughts within to unfurl and spread out as I project them into reality. Others stand before me, behind me, around me and they too enjoy- share my feelings. We converse in hushed mutters, each in our groups and together with the ones we love, me to myself intermingling with the others. With them, yet not. A paradox of uncertainty where my body and mind linger in places apart; chained yet detached.
Unaware of the time that had passed before me but fully conscious of the now setting sun coming to its rest, I heave a sigh and close my eyes for only a moment before once again rising to my feet.
But when did my legs give out?
The clifftops calm for a winter eve allowed me to spend time looking out at the continent without being disturbed and indulge in the more simple pleasures of life. But to a level of dismay, all good things must come to an end. Bringing myself back down, several thoughts relay through my mind as I try to remember what I was doing.
I had only stumbled upon this monolithic cliff by chance when first catching light break the almost endless forest, and thought to myself that I had finally reached freedom. The feeling of escape was enough to make one shiver, but the thought of now having to turn back almost makes me want to cry. I have no idea how long I'd been travelling for, lost in the mass of fauna where only green upon green and earth upon earth were visible, where the canopy felt the closest to the heavens, the most free I'd ever be when thinking how great it would've been to have just flown my way out.
And that's when I remember what I've been trying to do this whole time. Get to the capitol. Get to Canterlot. So as I face the ensemble once again, they prepare to accept me back into their embrace, pulling forward with reluctant yet steady strides I approach them, diving into the unknown. I scope out a narrow pathway out to the west of the cliffs which breaks out of the forest and it'll be dark by the time I reach the mouth of the jagged paths but it'll be worth every hour to know that I'm so much closer than before.
My previous sojourn through this forest had been quite educational, though a rather bleak experience. As is life though, teaching one lesson at a time no matter how disinterested you might be, and the lesson for me was to bring someone who actually had knowledge of the lay. A navigator, a guide, someone to help me through.
The sentinels protecting this haven also made up the perfect habitat for predators and prey, a home and a hunting ground for the inhabitants who dwell here. As a chorus of birds sang, their voices scattered through the air in wild harmony, desired by the hearts of the wild while the leaves cheered in satisfaction, an uproar so ascending I had become completely lost in the passion of natures lullaby. Too many times do I find myself entranced, so distracted by everything. How eccentric can I get?
“Desire…
Tear yourself away from desire and from the fields.
Listen to the voices. . .
I can hear them, I can hear their cries.
They sing for freedom.
The sweet brutality of a life long lie.”
The pages of the book fall away into darkness.
I'm cold. The night's sleep rough when mind- plagued by dreams- became restless; to which I've not forgotten. It frustrates me that something so surreal could keep me stuck here in reality, a paradox once again. Tired, hungry, cold and alone. I really know how to pack for long trips, don't I? Luckily, despite the distance to the nearest source of open land there is a field of grass down toward the bottom of the hills and thanks to that I know I can at the very least eat, use the nearby woodlands to shelter myself and if time permits, set up a fire.
So, while walking down the jagged outcrops of the path way cutting through the cliffs edge, I take an occasional look outward while remaining as far inward as possible. The fear of falling pushes me to the wall, but the yearning for beauty draws me to the edge and it's the excitement I feel while conflicted by these feelings that quickens my pace yet slows my mind. I feel as if I'm drifting down like a feather letting the weight of my own body, the momentum and gravity pull me as if being submerged by pure force.
Dashing down the path, I curve around one corner to the next, surrounded by limbs of rock that part every now and again. It's almost as if I'm running through a downward valley, just a little more dangerous. The wind beats against me, but I slice through it and my legs begin to strain not even after a few mere minutes yet my body keeps moving. The pure exhilaration is endless, I become elated and- wanting to push myself further, move faster. In my mind I'm shining, I'm smiling and it's warm there, I'm laughing and time ceases to care. But the more I linger on the feeling the more I begin to think, the more I become aware and the more time slows back down, to the sadness of it all, my form and breathing is noticed. I remember now. Coming to a maintainable pace becomes difficult but manageable and as if to illustrate my mistakes, my lungs turn to heaving stone lumps. Pace turns to a burdening trudge and the winds echo through the crevices of the jaw-like cliffs, crashing against the stone surface; pushing me from all directions.
"Perhaps this wasn't the best idea." I mutter to myself, but even I can't catch the words I speak- let alone speak them- over the whirring gusts rushing past me.
Not too much further now. I tell myself, now struggling to make progress down the slope.
Just another hour now- I'll get there... Before Sunset hopefully...
Turning back, I notice just how far down I've gotten since starting and it brings a little joy to me knowing that I'm so close to- at the very least- making a days journey in a much shorter time than expected. Having seen and memorized the general direction of my path I know I can make it to the bottom of the mountain path before sunset, and possibly somewhere sheltered in the forest before nightfall.
I wonder though, what it's actually like to live in Canterlot, The City of Stone. The architecture, fauna, the politics and the structural hierarchy of society. Is it different to the many other places here in Equestria? How far does the light of Princess Celestia shine? There is so much to learn, so much knowledge to garner from this world; the very picture of fascination. And so, smiling away at the thought of wondrous things, I try to once again lose myself in this self-induced bliss.
Managing a smile as the distance between myself and the edge of the woodland closes, a sense of fulfillment runs through me. It'll be very good for me to rest up here within the shallow confines, and with the little knowledge I managed to take in during my school days, I knew at the very least I could make myself a fire albeit my lack of instinctive survival skills. However, when everything becomes calm under the fiscal breeze I hear an entrancing sound almost a few tones from ambient. Water... The trickling, the liquid flow and the soft crash of velvet smooth life in aquatic essence. To think that the river would branch so far off from it's stem, cutting through the forest in such a way that it would actually come this far is quite the surprise.
So, with what little non-existent energy remains, I meander toward the sound of water with a feeling of relief inside and if it weren't for this endless day perhaps some exhilaration too. Breaking through the foliage, powerless step after step followed by the crush of leaves- dirt, twigs and the like brings a smell of damp uplift that protrudes me, but I'm drawn toward the water helpless to a volition not my own. A glimmer of light breaks off of the water, shimmering with promise and as careless as the wind.
Unable to mumble even the soundest words, I let go of my legs, collapsing without much hesitation or forethought, but with a loud thump and grunt. My travels had felt without end and with few reward. This was one of those few. Creeping to the edge of the bank I dip my lips, slowly at first and hold them there to test the water. Cool being the only word that could come to mind. Sip after sip, pulling away every next mouthful, I feel the sensations reaching through my veins, my body a container to the chill that fills me and soon after; my thirst is sated. I know I could drink more, I should drink more but I simply can't. I'm satisfied with the amount I've had, so not to further tempt myself I creep back into the tree line; body dragging against the moistened, blackened soil.
"This could be a very good time to rest up." I think to myself, exhausted.
Looking through the breach in canopy, the colours of purples and oranges are painted across the sky, hues growing bolder and overpowering; reminiscent of the future. Looking back at it now makes it feel so unnatural. Under this visor I continue to lie, sinking into the earth warming like a course blanket and my eyes glazed with absence grant an empty stare as my consciousness fades away into nothingness.
Ah, the softness of silk is unparalleled. Everything in comparison just seems to fade away against the royal luxuries. Well- almost everything... Her coat, hues that would turn the language in on itself, flowing with utmost exuberance...
...
I'm humbled by the scouring sunlight beaming through the stained glass as I walk through the hallways, velvet beneath me caresses and softens my mind, hooves swept and sweeping against the red and gold trimmed carpets.
Exiting the illustrious gateway, doors large enough to make a mountain bow and heavy enough to make the ocean cry; open before me in a slow yet bellowing swiftness. The grim whiteness envelopes my being as I step forward into the unknown.
There were no sounds afterward. There was no time. No feeling, neither taste nor smell could fill this completion. Only one thought- one word came across my mind.
Fear.
I'm face to face with a rabbit I encountered while trekking down the shore, eyeing it up and down I notice Its fur ruffled, thin whiskers twitching, ears flitting back and forth as little teeth nibble away at some form of vegetation. We stare at each other, myself motionless save the light wavers of my mane gently rocking in the wind; the rabbit alert and ready. I begin to move again, the cluttering of stones shift around as I walk startle the rabbit back into the bush with hastened bounds that I could barely follow.
What a weird meeting.
And so the day has begun, sun whispering through the tree tops as small tongues of light flicker through the canopy's soft movements. Birds chime away, their calls echoing back and forth between the silent distance and over the hushed trickles of the nearby riverbed. I notice a small crossing in the river, a shallow break where the water barely rises over the knee at it's deepest and also where it's most calm. Sans care, I tread through the water and am quite shocked with how cold it actually is, the water against my hooves slowly progresses upward as I move forward, the current becomes stronger and swift strides turn to heavy trudging but before too long, becomes the reverse and I'm back on land again. I'm not afraid of the water to be honest, though I wouldn't say my swimming is exactly the strongest. Though I'm not completely soaked, I feel a little uncomfortable with my legs still being wet from all the wading a stand to shake off as much water as possible, despite much of it clinging to my coat.
Thankfully however, upon crossing the break I manage to glance a small parting in the foliage not too far out, a well traveled path with plenty of breathing room. Much unlike my previous sojourns through these woods; cramped and difficult.
Dare I venture it though? Naturally. Says my intuition. Perhaps I'll even meet some travelers along the way. Wouldn't that be a nice experience?
...
Author's Note
Yes, I'm aware that I've rushed this story along with little to no premise on what's actually happening, but hopefully I'm able to start developing character introductions a little better once I get the hang of writing this story.
At the very least, I've got the setting but nothing past that is clearly established and trust me, I'm slowly but surely working on it.
Revelations of the Weak
An hour passes and I feel like I’ve made a little progress in my journey, but Canterlot is still quite the distance away. Until now, I’d felt quite content but that was before the urge to eat kicked in. I feel peckish, but don’t sight anything appetising nearby. Conveniently, luck smiled upon me which in all honesty was a: morale raising factor. I had stumbled upon a dirt path which led through a small grove, and though it may make the journey ahead longer, the thought of what may lie ahead would make it worthwhile. I try not to think about it, but my stomach grumbles and growls which is pestering me to no end. I can barely make a minutes distance without being cruelly interrupted by my hunger stricken stomach.
“Ugh, where can I get some damnable food?” I holler, scaring a few birds off as I stamp down at the dirt. “Whoops, my bad.”
After a good few moments I move further into the woods, and down the path I encounter something horrible, something beyond sheer description. My mind tries to reject it, but the smell, the sight, the sound, all of it was undeniable. I nearly throw up, my delicate senses repulsed and my heart torn. I wish no more of it, so I pull away, fleeing back to the river when I suddenly get pummeled into the ground by a severe oncoming force. Or, should I say, many oncoming forces that appeared out of nowhere! Overwhelmed, I fall back only to find myself covered in about six, maybe seven foals. Can’t count, too many of them pinning me down. Then one arises from the bushes, followed by two more to her flank. Was I being ambushed by a bunch of kids?! I look at her, orange coat, purple mane and wings capable of flight. She was covered in maroon marks, painted across her face and legs in the form of stripes.
I turn back to the pile of technicoloured blobs and found they were also covered in marks similar to the orange one and then, when I turn back to the young filly, something hits me, hard!
Recuperating from the devastation that unfurled x period of time ago, I find myself stirring from a gratuitous slumber, awakening pained and confused. I’m bound, I can feel it, neither by twine nor iron but by magic. I can hear the whirring hum as the aura flows around my body entwining me. I can barely see as my vision is blurred but I can make out a very distinguishable orange haze and as my sight begins to clear, the young foal approaches me. With vigilance she moves, a feeling of exalt radiating from her as she swiftly makes her way. She looks at me from a safe distance, I can feel her analyzing me from top to bottom, then with a more than cynical expression she spits down by my face causing me to wince.
“You,” She speaks, her voice deeper than I expected. “are one of them.” She points to a stone coveted by paintings of different shapes and figures. One stuck out. A skull crest with wings, a horn and a hoof insignia.
I remember what that symbol meant, but I didn’t resemble any of those whom traveled in that group. I shake my head.
“You did this!” She cried, panning her hoof across the charred grounds.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I wail in defense, straining as I try to break free from the binds.
“You did this!” She repeated, smacking me in the face.
This only provokes me into struggling more, seldom good it did though as I only felt the constriction grow tighter around me, but it then started to ease. Surprised, I turn to see why and I then notice that others stood sentinel around me, unicorns parted evenly with their horns alight but their strength languishing. I count a good 6 in total.
“I’m impressed.” I say, trying to coax the foals into loss of concentration. “You’re managing quite well for young ones such as yourself.” It’s loosening. Wriggling around, I slowly slip out from my binds but as I creep back I’m suddenly slammed into the ground by a tremendous weight.
“Why?!” I cry out.
An abrupt screech then echoed throughout skies and eerily crept through the haunting woods and immediately I recognised the oh so familiar sound. To my sudden surprise and that of those around me, I whisper a name which catches all ears and turns all heads to the skies. “Griffon…”
Frightened, the orange foal quickly shouts a command in neighlic which causes the other fillies to retreat in an orderly fashion. Well, as orderly as frantic galloping gets. I watch them all fleeing and notice that they’re all moving towards a single location, moving towards the charred and open area, moving towards safety. How unfortunate. The scampering children were cut off by a number of large and able bodied Pegasi wearing gilded armour, emblazoned with a golden sun, eight rays in total swerving and spanning from the centre. The Celestial Air Phalanx.
“Hohoho, what do we have here?!” One of the stallions chuckled as the chieftain came to an immediate halt. Cowering, the mare tried to flee only to have herself pressed back against a rock. The stallion was a light brown, distinguishable from his followers and seemed to be the largest of them all. No doubt he was the leader of the group.
The wretched breath of the commander beat into her face as he grunted a few suggestive words. The hunger in his eyes was undeniably impure as he intently wished to sully the poor girls virtue.
“Don’t struggle, and I promise it won’t hurt. Much.” He snidely, silently laughed allowing his voice to perturb the young mare and with that, he swung his free hoof out, signalling the others to launch their attack.
I rise up from the ground and as I do, the brown colt realizes my presence. Sadly however, he is undeterred and instead of focusing on me, he returns his gaze to the girl. The patrol members rally up and part the children into groups, dividing them into two, one significantly larger than the other. That’s when I begin my approach and as I do so, the brown colt looks back up and smiles arrogantly. Casting the foal to the ground with the flick of his hoof, calls out:
“KILL HIM!”
Immediately, five colts take charge, one after the other they dart towards me at exhilarating speeds, each making a small graze with their wings as I barely evade them. This was my opening.
“…-Strangle and entice.” With my command, gossamer threads of aura illuminate and cast themselves over the attackers and once I'm certain they're pinned, I make my move.
Lowering my horn I gallop towards the stallion ready to impale him and as I charge, he wriggles about, but I take no notice until the binds are torn by the unsheathing of the Pegasus’ wings. I miss as he effortlessly dodges, and then counters with a left hooved parry straight into my thigh.
I smash into the ground once more, and far too often it seems I’m welcomed by the same earthy embrace. I curl up in pain. The adrenaline that once surged through me, the confidence I worked so hard to build up, and the power I thought I had attained, quickly vanished before my very eyes. I lay at the feet of a malevolent being, who undoubtedly wanted to kill me for my rebellious actions.
“You are a nothing but a greenhorn.” He mutters as he turns to walk off.
I suck up my pain, rise to my feet once more and respond: “I’m white you arsehole!”
I run at him again but time freezes as something wraps around my face. My eyes turn in horror as I peer straight into the face of a Griffon. Time resumes and he lifts me up by the head but my body is still caught in the momentum of my assault and flings forward. Then under the sheer ferocity, I’m ploughed into the ground and with an elementary swing, thrown against a nearby tree. My sense of feeling nullifies under the anguishing pain as I attempt to move, but several black silhouettes loom above my being and I’m suddenly shrouded by a blanket of black.
“Oi!” I hear from my flank the sound of an aggravated Griffon ready to give me a scolding. “What were you thinking, huh chief?”
“What in Equestria do you mean?” I reply, turning around to meet the Griffon face to face.
“What in Equestria do you mean?” He mocked in a poorly imitated filly voice, his gruff accent breaking through the higher pitched intonations. “You know what I mean!” He spat, then curved around to circle me.
“Did you really think the likes of him could kill me? My oh my, you’re losing your touch Alex. I thought Griffons were supposed to be good at seeing through things. Could you not read that stallions face?” He knows I’m right. I know he knows. I can see it in the way he’s suddenly avoiding eye contact.
“What is that word?” He asks as he looks into the sky, watching and admiring the birds as they soar in formation.
I smile. “Intention. He didn’t truly want to kill me and in retrospect, I think he knew he couldn’t.”
“So, he was praying for a miracle then?”
“Not praying, hoping.” I correct.
“He was inches away from pulling a number on you.” Alex said, his voice filled with caution.
“Like I said to him before, he’s a greenhorn.” I return my attention to the hoarded children and suddenly my heartfelt moment vanished and my awareness refocused.
“Well anyway,” Alex sniffed. “I technically saved your life. So you owe me this one don’t you think, Dawn?”
I nod, then signal my command. The larger group of children were mobbed up next to a ruined wall which had clearly been scathed by time and the smaller group were broken apart and held separately. I see the fillies shivering and crying, worries seething from their entirety as they break down, as if knowing what fate they have ahead of them. I see Alex and the rest line up in formation, a steady five meters adjacent the group and with a simple word, the griffons talons were raised.
“Wait!” I call out, much to the surprise of Alex whose eyes widened furiously. I look down at the barely conscious girl that lay a wee distance away from me. Her petite figure, everything about her I wanted to corrupt but I knew that it would only stoke the embers, not extinguish them.
“You forgot this one.”
Lifting her up by the gruff, I smell her. Her innocence so ambrosial it makes me sick. I quickly toss her down by the rest and make a quick retreat and I didn’t need to see Alex to know what he was thinking.
“Just do it!” My voice breaks the brittle silence.
The children scream, wail and kick about, but under the thundering voice of Alex and the sharp griffon response, it all ends quickly and there was nothing but silence, thus I break it.
“Get the rest out! We’re heading off.” I command, and they comply, but I hesitate as something catches my eye. A flower. A simple thing, and out of respect I pluck it, quickly move towards the bloodied mess and toss it into the middle of them, mutter a few words then tip my head before finally making my leave.
I couldn’t believe my eyes… Those monsters… They-…
“The day is cold. The day is cold, and dark; and dreary.” –Rainy Days.
I saw it all. I saw them massacre the-… I-… I-…
“Hey, you okay?”
That voice… So sweet… So familiar… Who’s calling me? I know I know your voice…
“If you’re going to be like that then I’ll just have to leave…”
“No, wait!” I call back. “Please ‘___’, I-…”
…
“What were you thinking?”
…
My eyes well up, and through clenched teeth my voice stutters, unable to let out the most simplest of whimpers as I bite down, straining myself. My efforts though begin to fail me as my will breaks and I burst out in despair. I scream and thrashing about as the images pass through my mind and as I let it all out, it only drives me further.
The rain pours down on me, on them; darkens the earth with red and staining it forever with tragedy. Only moments ago the sky was clear. The Phalanx must be trying to cover their tracks. But I know… I know what crime they committed, not only against the law, but against all morality. How one could even possibly think of wreaking such atrocities was simply- !. I raise my head slowly, then through a small hole I peer at the array of sullen colours that lay out before me. The whispering trees are so dark, shadowed with sorrow as they mourn and the grey earth reflects its counterpart: the sky; as it’s spread with the ever growing crimson pool. Only then, when the redness stretches out to me, and when I reach the deepest pits in my heart; the blood mesmerizes me, pulls me. It drove the sanity away, but instead of weeping, I merely lay, enchanted by the darkly lit corpses smothered in their mingling life essence, every sense of light slowly disappearing with my hopes.
My body is weak, and my mind is feeble, but I stand and emerge from the sodden cloak, scarred and bruised but not dead. The darkened garment slipped from my ruse as I gradually progress toward the forsaken wall. Trudging through the now muddy turf, I find myself mindlessly stumbling as I swerve from side to side. My heart and mind feel relieved as I finally reach the corpses en-masse, a sudden weight lifting away as I stare blankly at the unfurled quantity that lay sprawled across the small plain.
Does my mind elude me? I stand between shock and awe as I retrace the last second that so easily slipped past me. Did that-…? Again, my mind gets sidetracked, unable to keep up with the quiver of time. I remain still, ignore the rain to the best of my ability and finally I confirm it. She’s alive! I almost jolt back, as if a glimmer of hope pierced through the blackness that shrouded my entirety. The orange hoof shivered, edged a little, shook. I look down at the bloodied body to find that she’d only been shot in the heart, which by all means should’ve killed her, but miraculously hadn’t.
I peer down and bring myself closer to her, and I listen closely. She’s breathing heavily, but still I can hear it above the rain that abruptly throws my awareness off. I ease her over with my nuzzle which causes her to cringe, exerting a foul hiss that clearly signaled pain. She lay limp, unable to move but still able to feel, and then the source of her bleeding caught my attention. It was odd, a light tinge of white seemed to pour out and as I leaned in on it, the white began to glow in reaction. I took my attention off the wound and gazed into the young mares weakly face, her amethyst eyes dwindled.
“Don’t move.” I say pathetically, almost choking on my own words. Not for a second do I believe myself, but if for a moment I can give this mare peace of mind then I think I can rest.
“I’m sorry, but if you can understand me,” I alight my horn, hoist the limp mass into the air and gently place her on my back. “You will have to stay as still as possible, okay?” And how do you plan on saving this mare? You have no idea where you are! Where in the heck are you going to go? Sometimes I wished my mind would just shut up for awhile. She lies on my back and I reapply the same spell used on the Pegasi a short while ago.
“Okay, now where do I go?” I ask myself, maybe a little to loud as a stirring suddenly erupts before calming down again. Over my shoulder I can hear: the silent mutters of an ancient language, no longer spoken, but still identifiable. I just walk. I walk with one thing in my mind: a result. There’s nothing more I can do but hope that I’ll soon find somewhere to rest and get help for this young one. I just hope I-…
“We are told of infinite simply because we cannot comprehend it. Limited by our minds and our simplicity, we are incapable of fathoming such a span of time larger than the beginning and the end. Moreover, these are the turmoils of infinity. Those who plunder these concepts will surely fall into the pits of despair, restless as they try to understand. I tell you this now: Do not try to understand it, blindly follow it without question and you may pass on without any doubts.” – Teachings of Celestia to Noble Houses: (Anonymous)
Five Celestia forsaken hours and still, I’ve no end to this dense maze of trees and slowly as my sanity deters; I can hear the woods taunts. “You’ll never get out of here!” They laugh. “She won’t live!” I cringe. “Aw, look at him, don’t you just pity that harlequin? No! We don’t, bahahaha!” I almost collapse out of sheer exhaustion, the numbness making me feel light headed, until finally, I meet my exit. The opening: freedom!
“Hang in there.” I whisper. “We’re almost out of here.”
As I meet the clearing, the openness is revealed to me. A bright plentiful plans, abundant with long grasses and vibrant life, so bright that when the elation within me rose, I collapsed. Maybe it was hunger, blood loss and/or agony that threw me off, or maybe it was delusion, regardless of what it was in truth, my consciousness was simply forfeit.
The pearl marble that paved the halls remarked the gold trimmed crimson banners that valiantly hung abroad the walls in which they coveted. The glade emphasised the grandeur with its natural essence, creating a homely, in touch atmosphere. It was warm, and that warmth brought comfort which eased my mind. The sun in all its radiance cast its heavenly glow upon this sanctuary, and the guards in golden armour stood vigil at every entrance, at every statue and by the foot of the throne where Princess Celestia lay. Presently, all these were true, Princess Celestia lay with her eyes lament and face sincere, a feeling of reverence circling about her. In the time of all this analysis I had crossed atleast a: 200 foot distance. The princess rose and I immediately halted. Her expressions held, and with a gentle nod of her head then a swift sway, the guards dispatched themselves. One group after another they disappeared.
Suddenly, I’m filled with a sense of alertness as Princess Celestia turns my way, and her once soft and demure facial cast had changed to a cynical and severe expression which would silence a legion. I swallow hard, and she takes delight in my stiffened stature. This delight however is not of teasing but complete sadism.
Did I mention how beautiful the flowers were this time of year?
My head hurts so bad and my stomach even more so. I’m stirring on the inside, and as I shift about I feel a soft warmth wrapped around me. This doesn’t feel like grass. I clench my eyes, then suffer a few rasping coughs. I feel incredibly hot now. My body burns, it anguishes and longs for a cool sensation. I writhe but to no avail, whatever has me held is firm and only then do I realise one important thing; where did the girl go? I froze in horror, albeit the intensifying heat that encompassed me. I can feel beads of sweat pouring from me, embedding their soddenness into what feels uncomfortably woollen.
I-
“Stop struggling, those blankets aren’t going to get any looser you know.” It was a statement, not a question. “Just lay there for a bit while I get you sorted.”
“Sorted for what?” I ask, voice weak.
I hear the scraping of wood against wood, as if a chair was slowly being pushed away from its seating place and then a few clumping steps, five in total before it stopped.
“I’m going to have to ask you to open your mouth and drink this. It’ll cool down the fever.” The voice was female in origin, made it more of a request rather than a demand. I simply translated it this way through the kinder intonations of her voice and by the way she worded her sentence.
I comply to her subtle command, quivering lips opening slightly, just enough for me to feel a glass lip intruding into my mouth, just enough that I felt it clink against my teeth. Then a fragrant smell hits me, and then the sweet taste of the liquid that poured in made me feel reluctant at first as I hesitated to swallow. That was before the glass was removed. I slowly let the liquid swish in my mouth, but something told me that the liquid had to go, so I gulped it down heavily like a giant fluid lump.
“Good.” I hear the same gratified voice.
I don’t speak, I simply lay and trust this girls word.
“Go to sleep now.” She petted my head gently, wiped my gruff then cleared my face with a damp cloth. . . . . .
I felt elevated, conscious yet unconscious. I floated away, drifting slowly through the slipstream of spectra, reality folding and bending around me. Past present and future were there in my hooves, opening and closing at a whim. Voices spoke out, not to me, nor at me, but past me and through me though I knew I was the one being addressed. As the strings of life pull at me like a puppet, I remember... An amulet and a dialect.
How was this important to me?
This was what the past held. And more. . .
Dream Analysis Part I: Unravelling Plot
