Lost on the Way to Nowhere

Chapters

Prologue
Wilderness
Worries
Heat
Unknowns

Prologue

Upon the crest of the hill was a comfortable spot in the shade of a rather small but pleasant-looking tree. It offered a soothing view of the green expanse that stretched endlessly every which way, only sporadically dotted by trees akin to itself. Not the faintest presence of civilization was apparent on the horizon: the space where the landscape touched the sky was entirely vacant, save distant treetops that poked up from the east. Opposite the forest, the sun had just barely begun to touch the hills, most of the stars patiently awaiting their turn to appear once the sun had finished its lazy descent for the evening, excluding the few antsy ones that had been too eager to simply wait for their entrance in the grand stage of the sky.

Sitting himself down beneath the branches of the tree, the traveler let out a soft, weary exhale. Both his horn and the saddlebags that adorned his back were enveloped in a soft violet glow as he lifted the saddlebags off and set them beside him. Drawing out a canteen from his belongings, he took a long swig before he returned it to its place. He went to pull something out of another pouch, but he paused as he opened the pouch before letting out a disgruntled sigh.

Right. Dropped the map in the river, he recalled with a dour frown. Earlier that day, he had been trying to pinpoint his position on the map while trotting alongside a river, too distracted to react quickly enough to recover his balance when some loose soil on the bank gave out beneath him and sent him tumbling into the river, the current spiriting away his map as well as himself. Although he wasn't able to recover the map, it made no difference, as it was in the water so long that it would have been unusable were he to find it somehow.

His incident had left him in a predicament; he was in entirely unfamiliar territory, the map having been his only guide up until he had lost it. At best, he could vaguely remember very general and imprecise details of the map in the direction he was headed, which was northeast—or at least, he believed it was. His tumultuous struggle to drag himself from the river had made him lose all focus he had had, making it hard to recall with total certainty whether he was still headed in the right direction. He was eager to make it to the nearest town sooner rather than later, as his floundering in the water had also resulted in the loss of most of his supplies, which he rather carelessly had failed to secure in his saddlebags properly.

How have I even made it this far? he thought dejectedly. I'm an absolute ditz and it's a miracle that I haven't gotten myself maimed and killed out here yet.

With a heavy sigh, he turned his gaze toward the sun, which had now dipped most of the way behind the rolling hills. He glanced at the tree against which he lied, the gentle rustling of its leaves the only sound in the air. It seemed as though the tree looked back at him with a kind smile—of course, not actually, but he could have sworn that he felt it smile somehow. It put him at ease, soothing his nerves.

Well, he thought to himself, maybe I’ve not got anypony to keep me company, but at least I've got you, Mister… Tree. He smirked at the silliness of the idea, but it gave him a sense of peace, in a way. As he relaxed, he felt himself start to fall asleep to the calming lullaby of the breeze through the branches of his unorthodox friend.

Wilderness

Heavy footsteps thudded on the ground behind the dark olive-colored mare as she galloped, her speed almost completely unhindered by the figure draped across her back. Adrenaline pumping through her veins and powering her strides like a potent fuel, she gritted her teeth and pushed as much strength as she could into her legs, launching herself forward into each stride.

"Mender, ladder, NOW!" she bellowed ahead of her as the cacophony of howls and the pounding of claws on the ground behind her grew uncomfortably closer. "So help me Celestia, if you don't have it ready when I get there, my ghost will throttle you from the grave!"

"G-getting it, I'm getting it, hold on! It's t-tangled!" a nerve-wracked voice called back.

"Then untangle it or I'll tangle my freakin' hooves around your neck, Mender!" she hissed at him.

She was almost at the base of the tree when the rope ladder finally dropped down from the canopy. She grabbed one of the forelegs of the pony laying on her back before lunging up at the ladder, grabbing it with her one free hoof while the other clung tightly to the pony that now hung in the air beneath her. "Pull us up, I can't climb this thing with one hoof and I've got somepony in tow!"

"Wh-what?!" Mender cried back incredulously from the top of the ladder. "Who is—"

"Ask questions later, just PULL!"

"I can barely... I can't... I'm not strong enough!" he cried back, a distraught tone in his voice.

"Think of something, Mender; the logheads are almost on top of us!"

A few long moments passed with no response as the footsteps grew nearer and nearer. She could almost hear their beastly panting at this point, a cluster of deep growls emerging from the pack behind her. She felt her heart rise in her chest as she—

No, wait. She was rising. The forest floor drew further away from her with each second, easily out of reach of the threat. Looking down at the pack of timberwolves as they reached the base of the tree, she let out a shrill whoop. "No chow time for your ugly mugs today. You'd make better firewood than predators!"

Soon enough, she found herself at the edge of a wooden platform, taking a moment to gather her strength. "Back up, Mender; got our guest comin' up!" With a loud grunt, she swung the limp pony hanging beneath her up onto the platform, his body hitting its wooden surface with a heavy thud. Now free to pull herself up, she was quickly on all four hooves again atop the platform, the familiar treehouse that she called home now before her. "Whew, that was some workout!"

Mender was leaned up against a section of wooden railing, a smile of total relief plastered across his face. "Hooooh... thank Celestia that worked." Next to him was a very hastily assembled pulley wrapped around a few thick branches of the tree in which the platform rested, and then the other end attached to the upper part of the ladder.

"Mender, I dunno whether I want to slap you or kiss you right now," she said, her lips curved upward in a grin. "For a split second there I thought you went and bailed on me, but I knew you'd figure something out, and you did! Next time, try to cut it a little less close, though."

"S-sorry. I just... wasn't expecting the company," Mender replied sheepishly. "Who is this guy, anyway?" His nervous smile turned into a curious look, his head tilting a little as he eyed the blue-coated pony on the ground. "Is s-something wrong with him?"

"No idea," she replied, turning her attention to the pony as well. "Found the sucker out cold in the middle of the forest. Poor sap woulda been toast if they got to him first." A proud smile emerged on her lips. "Of course, I got to him first, right at the last minute, there to save the day. It was so rad. One minute they were trying to gather around him to chow down, and one blink later, he and I were both outta there like lightning with somewhere to be!"

The silver-coated stallion stepped closer to the unconscious pony as he furtively squinted and leaned in. "He looks like he hasn't eaten or drunk a thing in a couple of days. We need to get him some w-water or he might just shrivel up and blow away before too long. We can't just leave him on the ground, either, but we only have two—"

Right as the words came out of his mouth, he heard a thud from inside the treehouse, the olive pony nowhere in sight. Leaning into the door frame to peek inside, he was greeted by the sight of the apparently exhausted mare face down on one of the two beds, already snoozing away. With a sigh, he returned to the other unconscious pony. "Make that one bed," he remarked to himself, wrapping his hooves underneath the forelegs of the blue equine, getting to work slowly but surely dragging the heavier form toward the treehouse.

The first thing Ocean Breeze heard as he felt his consciousness return to him was a loud, constant snoring. Is that me? Do I snore? he asked himself, but soon realized that the snoring came somewhere from the right side of the room. I'm... indoors? His eyes creaked open wider as he sleepily surveyed the room around him. The room was minimally furnished, with basic wooden walls and a coarse wooden floor. Light entered mainly from two windows, one on the wall above the bed in which he lay and the other on the opposite side of the room, although light slipped in between the unevenly spaced boards that made up the room's walls and roof.

It wasn't long before he noticed the figure laying in the bed across the room from him: an earth pony with an olive-colored coat and a mane the hue of summer leaves. On her flank was her cutie mark, a brown droplet of some sort. Soon after, his attention was caught by a second pony, one slumped against the wall beside his bed. He was an earth pony as well, one with a coat like tarnished silver and a navy-colored mane tucked neatly into a ponytail. His cutie mark was obscured by his posture. As Ocean began to stir, so too did the pony by his bedside.

"I'm... I'm awake. Awake. Uh... I'm... s-sorry. Didn't mean to f-fall asleep on you like that. I see you're finally a-awake yourself," said the stallion, his eyes lidded with bags apparent underneath them. "I tried to k-keep myself awake as long as I could. I wanted to be awake when you woke up." He let out a restrained yawn. "I guess I should introduce m-myself. She's, uh..." He gestured toward the sleeping mare. "She likes to be called Forest Flash, but... if you wanna know, her real n-name is Maple Sap. Don't tell her I told you that, though," he said, his lips drawn in a nervous smile. "And I'm Mender. Pretty plain, I know, but... Yeah. Mender. That's... my name!" he said, awkwardly forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace than a grin.

Ocean raised his head up from the pillow, blinking off his grogginess for a few moments. "I'm..." he paused for a moment, reaching for the memory tentatively, hoping not to meet once more with the wall within his mind. To his good fortune, he was able to recall. "I'm Ocean Breeze." Looking himself over, he realized something was missing. He swept the room with his eyes, combing for the object in question to no avail. He looked back to Mender. "Where are my saddlebags?"

"Your saddlebags?" Mender frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. "When Forest brought you up, you weren't carrying anything. You'd have to ask her, b-but... after she wakes up. She gets really grouchy if you wake her up too soon." He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow slightly. "How did you end up down there, anyway? Forest found you just... lying there in the open."

"I remember..." began Ocean. "I remember walking. I was walking toward the forest and I didn't have any food and I ran out of water, too. I didn't see any other landmarks, so I just... walked toward the forest."

"But... why? Were you just in the middle of nowhere, with no map, no nothing? I mean, why would you go so far out there with no clue where you were going?" Both of his eyebrows were raised now.

"Well..." Ocean trailed off as his mouth hung open, hesitant to continue. "I... honestly don't remember. I woke up under a tree and I didn't have a map or anything in my saddlebags and I can't remember a thing before that."

A look of intense concern overcame Mender's face. "Oh, that's... that's bad. Did you... did you hit your head? Jostle it at all? That's a serious symptom of some sort of head trauma or some sort of brain damage or..." He bit his lip. "I'm not a doctor, I don't know what to do if that's what happened, but I... it's really serious if you hit your head, we have to get you to a doctor..."

"No, no, it's fine, really, I'm okay. My head's fine." He rapped a hoof against his skull. "Not a scratch on me when I woke up. Though I did feel a little damp, now that I think about it. But I wasn't hurt."

The worry on Mender's face subsided to relief. "Oh... okay... g-good, good. Good. I was... worried for a minute there." But as Mender's worry faded, another worry planted itself in Ocean's mind.

"How long was I asleep for?" asked Ocean, an apprehensive tone in his voice.

"Well, you've been asleep here for at least eight hours, so that plus however long you were out there on the ground."

Ocean squinted his eyes as he mulled over this information. So I was walking for almost two days, and I was out for at least another eight hours on top of that, probably closer to twelve, so two and a half days total. He felt something powerful well up in him, and his eyes went wide.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Mender asked, the concern returning to his face.

"It's been almost three days and I still can't remember anything and..." Ocean trailed off for a moment, a lump forming in his throat. He blinked hard for a moment, shaking his head sharply. No. Don't be like that. He took a deep breath and then exhaled. "Nevermind. I'm just a bit stressed out, is all. Don't worry about it."

"A-are you...—"

"Yeah," Ocean interrupted. "Yeah, I'm fine. Really." He looked over at the figure still prone and snoring away upon the bed on the opposite side of the room. "How much longer 'til she wakes, do you think?"

"Probably another two hours," Mender said, offering a weak smile that failed to conceal the evident worry that lingered in his eyes. "She... sleeps a while."

So they waited.

Worries

"No need to thank me, I'm just..." muttered Forest Flash as she stirred awake, trailing off in her dreamy mumblings. She blinked a few times, letting out a light yawn and shifting in the bed.

"There she is, returned to th-the land of the living," commented Mender, looking up from his book, the cover of which was so well worn that no title was distinguishable, looking back over at Ocean Breeze, who was now seated on the edge of the bed. As Forest's eyes caught sight of the now-conscious guest, she leaped up out of bed onto all four legs, dramatically puffing up her chest as she planted her hooves firmly on the ground.

"I don't think we've met, stranger, so now it's time for me to introduce myself! I'm the shadow in the trees that all logheads fear, I'm the blur that swings through the canopy, and I'm the lightning that strikes twice! I'm the one, the only, Forest—" She stopped, glaring daggers into Mender, who had started snickering about halfway through. "Mender, seriously, I'm trying to make a good impression," Forest hissed through clenched teeth.

"S-sorry, sorry, but you're just... so... dramatic!" he replied, his snicker turning to a giggle. With a sigh, Forest turned back to Ocean, who was also clearly amused.

"Don't worry. You don't need to impress me. I mean, Mender already told me how you bailed me out of dodge," Ocean said, nodding his head in said pony's direction. "I'm plenty impressed by the fact that you saved my life. My name's Ocean Breeze."

Her prideful posture loosed up, a cocky grin replacing her expression of annoyance. "Right! Of course you are. Who wouldn't be?" Standing up on her hind legs, she stuck out a hoof toward Ocean. "Call me Forest Flash. Good to meet'cha, Ocean Breeze."

Standing up from his seat on the bed's edge and standing upright on his haunches, he found himself wobbling as a sense of balance eluded him. He swung his forelegs around wildly for a moment as he tried to recover from his imbalance and then leaned forward, grabbing Forest's extended hoof in a tight grip as he used it to steady himself. Ocean's face turned a bit red as he gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I guess I... don't have great balance. At all." After a second of making sure he wouldn't fall, he gave Forest's hoof a shake. "Good to meet you, too." Letting go, he found himself wobbling again before falling backwards onto the bed.

Forest failed to stifle a laugh, clearly entertained by his floundering. "Oh, man, I don't think I've ever seen a pony flail like that from just standing upright." Mender cleared his throat, glaring at her. Collecting herself, she managed to wipe the grin off her face. "Yeah, sorry. Bad manners. Didn't mean to laugh."

Am I really that bad at standing? Maybe I just.. forgot how to do it properly? Or maybe I'm just tired. His concern must have been betrayed by his expression, because he felt a hoof on his shoulder as the olive-colored pony sat down on the bed next to him.

"Hey, buddy. Don't take it like that," she said, slugging him lightly in the shoulder. "It's okay, I mean, there's plenty of stuff I suck at. For the life of me, I can't plan ahead. Luckily, though, that's his department." She gave a nod over towards Mender.

"I suck at s-stuff too. I've got spaghetti legs," he chimed in, demonstrating his point by flopping a foreleg limply in the air. "See? P-plus, my vision's bad. I can't see much farther than a f-few hoof-lengths away. It's all blurry." Ocean's concerned frown curved into a light smile.

"Yeah, I guess you guys are right. Not a big deal." He paused for a moment. "Hey, by the way, do you know where my saddlebags went, Forest?"

"Your saddlebags? What saddleba—" she began, stopping as a look of realization came over her face. "Oh... Oops."

"What happened to them?" Ocean inquired, squinting his eyes at her slightly.

"Well, y'see, they fell off when I grabbed you. I didn't think to pick them up or anything. Was there something important in them?"

Pressing his face into his hooves as he lay back on the bed, Ocean let out an exasperated groan. The only thing from before a few days ago is gone now. Not just that, but the only thing I had, period. Great. Forest grimaced at his misery.

"Yeah. Sorry..."

After taking a deep breath and letting it out, Ocean replied, "It's fine. Don't worry about it." His face, however, said otherwise.

"We could get him a new set of saddlebags. Right, Mender?" Forest looked over at him optimistically.

"There's... one p-problem with that plan," he answered, his hooves fretting nervously. "We live r-really far away from any towns. From anypony. Really... really far away." He turned his gaze out one of the windows. "A week of walking, even."

"Oh," said Forest, her hopefulness quickly deflating.

"Why are you two so far out here, anyway? How do you get by being so far away from any sort of settlement?" Ocean asked, a perplexed expression on his face.

"Oh, pssh, who needs settlements and all that junk?" said Forest said dismissively. "We get by on our own. I go out and forage and get supplies, and he holds down the fort, fixes things, and all the other stuff. I mean..." Her air of pride suddenly lost its energy. "It does get lonely out here. Like, really lonely. You're the first other pony we've met in..." She paused to think, pressing a hoof to her chin.

"F-five years," finished Mender. "It's been five years since it's just been her and I."

"But," started Forest once again, "we don't need anypony else!" There was a fiery defiance in her voice. "Right, Mender?"

There was a pause without any response, and then Mender replied, "Yeah." He sounded none too convinced of the veracity of his answer, however. His gaze turned once again to the window, a longing look in his eyes. "All we've ever needed are these walls and this forest..." Whether she simply didn't notice or it perhaps chose not to, Forest seemed oblivious to his lack of confidence.

"We've always been on our own and we don't need a damned thing from anypony. Period." Forest's expression seemed to darken. "Never have, never will. All we need is each other." After an uncomfortable pause, she spoke again. "I'm going out to get some food." Then she was out the door.

Ocean looked over at Mender. "She seems... angry about something. I didn't realize that question would strike a nerve like that." Mender seemed wholly miserable, a depressed frown clear as day on his face.

"This isolation w-wears on us. There's no way she's willing to admit it, b-but..." he trailed off. "I've suggested in the p-past finally going somewhere else, but she always gets angry and storms off, just like th-this." He let out a heavy sigh.

"How did you two end up here, if it's okay for me to ask?" Ocean asked tentatively, trying to make eye contact as Mender continued to avert his own gaze.

"I wasn't always here," he said quietly. "She was here first. When she was y-younger, a lot younger, her parents... Well, they both left her and went away. She never said why or how, but... after that, she ran away. She was angry. Then, a few years later, she found a little baby colt wandering in the forest..." He paused, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "She took him in, and he was good at fixing things so she called him... called me Mender. I mean, there's more that happened after, but... that's the gist of it." Ocean struggled to make out whether he was happy or sad; the way the two emotions blended together in his face as he spoke made it difficult to distinguish what he was feeling. Perhaps it was both.

"She's always wanted to s-stay," he continued, "and I've always wanted to leave, but I just sit up here all the time because I'm too scared t-to go down there. Not just because of the timberwolves, but because I'm scared I'll get lost and I'm scared I don't know what else will happen if I do." Now, rather than a fusion of happiness and sadness, a distinct misery was evident in his expression. "I want to see the world. I want to learn and explore b-but I'm a coward." His lips parted as if he were going to say something more, but no words emerged.

Ocean sat there, at a loss for how to reply. I hardly know a thing. I doubt anything I can say to him will have any impact. He already knows I can't remember anything. The only response he could force out of his mouth was a simple, unconvincing, "I'm sorry."

Mender seemed to be struck by a sense of self-consciousness. His expression of unhappiness shifted once more to one of nervousness. "I'm... s-sorry. I shouldn't have dumped all that on a s-stranger. I realize that you can't stay here forever, s-so... we'll think of something." He gave a faint smile, but his heart didn't seem in it.

Although Mender seemed inured to the depths of boredom that came about in the small, plain treehouse, Ocean Breeze was most certainly not. As the hours ticked by, he found himself growing restless.

"Would it be alright if I, like... went for a walk, or something?" Ocean asked after a few hours of nothingness, growing antsy from the unstimulating nature of his environment. Mender looked at him as though he'd asked for chainsaws to juggle.

"Y-you can't just go down there," Mender said, clearly discomforted by the idea, setting the same book he had been reading earlier in his lap. "I mean, no way I'm going down there and it'd be d-dangerous if you went on your own. With a sigh, found himself laying back down in the bed, staring up at the plain, uninteresting wooden ceiling, noting all the minute details—what few there were to be noted, anyhow.

It was only so long before Ocean turned to Mender again. "Hey, Mender, maybe I could... borrow that book of yours?" Mender pursed his lips, eyeing the book for a moment before giving a reluctant nod.

"S-sure, just... be careful. It's the only book I have." He held the book out in a hoof. Pleased that he might finally have found something with which to occupy himself, Ocean eagerly took the book from his extended hoof and flipped it open to the first page.

A moment passed, and then another. Ocean stared at the first line of the first page, his grin slowly transitioning to a confused frown. He looked over at Mender, and then back at the book. "This is... Equestrian, right?"

"Y-yeah, why do you ask?" Mender raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Well..." he stared at the book for another few seconds, squinting at the words. For some reason, none of the letters seemed to make any sense to him. "I can't understand any of these words. Or these letters. These.... are letters, right?" A familiar feeling of dread manifested itself in his chest.

Did I forget how to read, too?

Heat

A burden of shame weighing on his mind, Ocean Breeze looked on over Mender's shoulder as he went about his teachings. "Th-this letter is an 'M', it makes the 'mmmm' sound, like in 'mother' or 'mumble'," he explained, pointing to the letter on one of the book's pages. Ocean rested his head on his hooves as he gazed at the page, a miserable look on his face.

I feel like a child, he thought to himself. I can't stand upright without falling over, I can't read, and hell, maybe tomorrow when I wake up I won't be able to speak either. He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. Mender looked back at him.

"D-do you want me to stop for now?" he said, offering a sheepish smile. "Sorry if I'm not a good t-teacher..."

"No, no, it's not you, I just..." Ocean began, pausing for a moment. "Nevermind. You can keep going."

"W-well... as long as you're sure," Mender replied in an uncertain tone. Turning back to the book, he began teaching him the letter N. "This one is an 'N'. It m-makes the 'nuh' sound, like in 'nobody' or 'nothing'."

This went on for another half hour, Mender going through every letter one by one until he finally got through the letter Z. "So n-now you know your A-B-C's, next time can you si—" He stopped himself, not finishing the sentence. "Uh... y-yeah, so... now I'll quiz you on it. Gotta p-practice it to make sure it sticks." Ocean rolled his eyes and sighed again, resting his chin in his hooves as his gaze redirected to anywhere other than the book.

"O-or we can... s-stop. Would you rather...?" Mender looked to Ocean with an eyebrow poised.

"It's fine, we can continue." His dour frown said otherwise, but Mender reluctantly launched into the next portion of his teaching.

He leaned over the book once more, pointing to characters seemingly at random, asking Ocean, "So what letter is this?" clearly trying to maintain a poker face for each answer but still wincing somewhat every time Ocean missed the mark. After having pointed out ever letter at least once, he turned back to Ocean with a forced smile that ended up looking more sheepish than sincere. "Maybe we should... go through the alphabet again?"

As the sky began to darken as the sun crawled slowly toward the horizon, a thud on the platform outside of the treehouse announced Forest Flash's return, her figure soon appearing in the doorway with a ratty satchel filled to the brim with berries tied to her back. "Got a present for you guys," she said, her voice betraying a mood much more jubilant than earlier. She untied the satchel from her back, tossing it on the ground between the two stallions as Ocean leaned over Menders shoulder, looking up at the mare and then down at the berry-filled satchel on the floor.

"What'cha guys doin'?" she inquired, looking between the two.

"I was tea—" Mender began, before being hastily cut off by Ocean.

"We were just reading, y'know? Only one book and two of us, so... yeah," he said as he rubbed a hoof on the edge of his bed and averted his eyes from making contact with Forest, his expression similar to that of a foal caught with a hoof in the cookie jar.

"Uh... alright," replied Forest, raising an eyebrow but not prodding any further. Mender slowly closed the book, looking back over his shoulder at Ocean with an apologetic look. Soon enough, though, their gazes both returned to the satchel on the floor, Mender being the first to get up and take a closer look.

"O-oh, wow," he said, taken aback as he opened up the bag. "There's a l-lot more variety here than usual!" He beamed at her, offering her a wide, thankful smile, inspiring a prideful grin on Forest's face. He waved Ocean over eagerly. "C-c'mon, look!" Ocean got up off of the edge of his bed, trotting over to the satchel with his head tilted.

"You weren't kidding," Ocean said with a wide grin as he beheld the wonderful assortment of juicy berries held inside the bag. "That's like a whole rainbow in there." Mender started to pick out different colors of the berries, listing off their names for Ocean.

"Th-this one's a sunberry," he said, holding up a light yellow berry. "They're super tart, but s-so good. One time, I heard they're way better fermented, but I'm not sure w-why anypony would let them go bad. Oh, and this one," he said, grabbing another berry, this one pinkish in color, "is a b-bubbleberry. It's super chewy and just a little bit sweet. And this one is—..." He plucked out a white berry, squinting as he looked it over. "H-hey, Forest, do you know what this one is?"

Forest offered no more than a shrug. "Thought it looked cool so I grabbed it. Why don't you eat it and find out?"

"Forest, for, all we know, this thing could be poisonous. A-are you sure it'd be a good idea to just stick it in my mouth and 'find out'?" Mender shot her an incredulous look.

Ocean was struck by a wave of voracious hunger, his stomach growling as if it were impatiently trying to remind Ocean that it was time to eat. "Hey, guys, uh... is it alright if I start eating now?"

Looking from the white berry to the bag and then back to the white berry once more, Mender said, "W-well, we got plenty of other berries. No need to dabble with the unknown." He tossed the berry aside, letting it roll off to the corner of the room as all eyes turned to the bountiful harvest of berries that lay in the middle.

Ocean was the first to act: he quickly grabbed a hoofful of berries and jammed them into his mouth, a stream of juice running down his chin as he chewed on the delicious wad. Forest was the next to follow suit, shoving a hoof in and grabbing her own hoofful to munch on. Mender joined in soon after, unable to restrain himself from partaking in the fruity feast. All three ponies continued to grab more and more, stuffing themselves silly with the sweet, delectable berries.

It wasn't long before all three ponies were snoozing away, totally full and content to rest and digest. Forest was splayed out on the bed, snoring loudly; Ocean lay still on his back, both hooves settled on his stomach as his chest rose and fell almost silently; and Mender was sat up against the wall by Ocean's bed, stirring lightly in his wakeful rest.

Ocean felt warm—uncomfortably so. Sleepily kicking off the thin blanket draped over him, he rested his head back on the pillow. Yet he still was warm. Hot, even. Are the nights here always this warm? he thought to himself, somewhat annoyed by the uncomfortable climate. He inhaled softly, letting out a sigh.

As he drew in a breath, however, a thick, unpleasant smell filled his nostrils. Ugh, did somepony burn something? Shifting once more in bed, he put his head underneath the pillow. The scent still remained, only somewhat blocked out by the pillow. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he tried to get himself to sleep, his mind mulled something over, but in his groggy state he couldn't make out what. Burned something? Who would be cooking? He considered this idea for a second before he felt a surge of adrenaline in his veins that blasted away any sense of lingering sleepiness.

He leaped out of bed, looking around with his eyes wide open. Mender was jarred awake from his sleep by the thud of Ocean's hooves hitting the ground. The air was hazy, a thick, black cloud of smoke covering the ceiling. An orange glow danced rhythmically on the walls of the room.

"Why's it so... warm in here?" Mender groggily muttered, before the reality of the situation quickly struck him. "Is s-something burning?!" he said, scrambling to his hooves. His vision darted around the room before it settled on Forest. "F-Forest, wake up! FOREST!" he cried, now by her bedside and shaking her.

"Wha...?" she replied, her eyes barely fluttering open. "Hey, Mender... what's up?..." She yawned widely, blinking lightly.

"FIRE!" he answered, his eyes brimming with panic.

As Mender jostled Forest awake, Ocean hastily trotted onto the platform outside and was immediately met by what could only be likened to some sort of apocalyptic hellscape. Embers drifted through the air, all the trees before him enveloped in a blazing inferno. The dark sky was filled with smoke that billowed up from the canopy—it was as if the entire sky was occupied by one big unnatural cloud, hovering ominously over the trees as they were consumed by the blaze. Leaning over the edge, he saw the tree upon which the small, wooden structure was built had already caught alight, the flames slowly creeping up toward him, almost taunting him with their slow but steady and relentless approach.

"Guys?" Ocean said, slowly backing away from the ledge as a fifty-pound weight sank to the bottom of his stomach. "Guys, we need to—"

His words caught in his throat as the ground beneath him shifted slightly, and through the noise of the roaring inferno came a soft, quiet crack that pierced his ears like a bullet, the fierce pounding of Ocean's heart turning utterly still for just a brief moment. He turned to the treehouse, and as he opened his mouth, the only sound that came was the deafening sound of splintering wood as everything began to fall.

Ocean didn't remember the fall, nor did he remember the impact. One moment he stood, frozen in terror as if he had met the gaze of some invisible cockatrice through the flames, the crack ringing in his ears like an explosion. The next moment, he lay amongst broken and shattered wooden boards that once composed the treehouse as the flames surrounded him like an audience, their crackling an uproarious laughter at his misfortune, and they eagerly waited to see what he would do next.

He stared up at the smoky sky, wishing the stars would keep him company in his demise, but the sadistic inferno denied him even that. It was determined to consume his hope, his body, his life, and it would stop at no less. The flames tightened their noose around him, sucking up his oxygen like a murderous vacuum.

As he passively watched the flames approached, something gnawed at his heart, as if some part of him struggled to free him from some sort of mental snare. I have nothing to lose. Nothing. Maybe I earned this somehow. But... did they?

His miserable apathy was suddenly replaced with a fierce desperation, one that gripped his heart, mind, and body and refused to let go. They had saved his life, and yet here he lay as they burned, as their lives burned, as everything burned. Was he truly the kind of pony to allow others to die? To give up at the expense of others? But it's not like I can do anything. I can't just walk through fire. I'm already trapped myself. Maybe if I hadn't waited so long to do something, hadn't let the fire get this close...

He rose up from where he lay, turning in his place as he scanned the fire that encircled him, holding the faint hope there might be some break, some point where the fire had not yet reached, but to no avail. I'm trapped. There has to be something... I can't... There has to be some way for me to do ANYTHING!

A cool, refreshing gust blew gently over his body, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of the flames. He felt a tingling in his horn as it was illuminated by a violet glow, and he felt...

Damp? In the middle of a fire?

He suddenly felt a surge of energy course through his body toward his head, and he knew exactly what to do. It was not some memory from which he drew his certainty, but rather by the same instinct that allows one to know how to make their leg move, how to breathe, how to blink. As the surge of energy reached the tip of his horn, it became a torrent of water before him, driven forth by an invisible wind. It crashed upon the ground like a wave breaks against rocks on a shore, splashing a salty wet spray into the air as the fire hissed beneath it like a slain beast and was extinguished.

He rushed forward through the newly-made opening in the circle of fire, his hooves splashing through the puddle left on the ground. Now freed from the fiery noose, he perked his head up, struggling to make out any figures through the infernal disaster that remained of the treehouse. He sensed a presence not with his eyes, but rather, with his ears.

"Forest, get up! Y-you have to GET UP!"

He galloped toward the voice that had arisen from the roaring of the fire, his hoof occasionally catching on pieces of rubble, but he refused to allow himself to stumble and fall. He weaved clumsily through the flames that ate at the charred and splintered wood that covered the ground, approaching the source of the voice. "Please, Forest. PLEASE!"

His eyes were met with the sight of a familiar stallion, his silvery coat stained with soot as stood over a prone Forest Flash. A mound of wooden planks was piled atop her hind legs as she struggled desperately to free herself, Mender frantically prying at the wooden rubble. The opposite side of the pile was already ablaze, the fire spreading rapidly. "O-Ocean? Ocean, h-help!" Mender called out as he turned his head in Ocean's direction. "Sh-she's stuck... Oh dear Celestia, she's s-stuck and I can't lift this and... please..." His eyes were bleary with horror, liquid fear running down his cheeks as embers tauntingly danced in the air around him.

"Mender, get the hell out of here already, I've... I've got this," she shouted at Mender, a hint of fear in her voice. "Just GO already!"

"Mender," Ocean said, swallowing his own panic and trying to maintain a steady voice, "start with the wood at the top. I'll keep the fire away."

"W-what?! How?" Mender exclaimed incredulously. "We're g-going to get trapped in the fire and it's going to burn us all and we—"

"Mender. I need you to trust me. Please just trust me, okay?"

Mender stared at him for a few seconds, and he struggled to get rid of the lump in his throat. "O-okay. Okay, I'll trust you," he replied with a shaky voice. He looked back at Forest. "We're... w-we're going to get you out, okay?"

"Are you stupid? I told you, I've got this, I can..." Her desperate tugging at the wood above her weakened as a look of defeat overcame her. "I can't..."

Mender climbed up to the top of the pile, kicking planks off of the pile as quickly as he could manage, and Ocean turned to face the approaching flames that were nearest to him. "Forest, I need you to keep an eye on the flames. Tell me when it's getting to close on one side, alright?"

Forest nodded, a bit of fear draining from her expression. "Alright... got it!"

Ocean's horn lit up once more with its violet glow, channeling the familiar energy in his body through his horn and firing off another blast of water, drowning the flames in the current. He sprayed along the length of the wall of flame, beating it back with the water. Confident that it would be enough, he halted the torrent. As the stream faltered, he was confronted by an awful lightheadedness. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to regain his concentration. Forest's voice rang out: "Fire on the other side is getting a bit too close!"

Snapping his attention in the opposite direction, Ocean galloped over toward it, catching himself as he felt himself stumble a bit before skidding to a halt. Alright, round three. The water emerged from his horn, silencing the roar of the flames as the water crashed against the ground. His dizziness worsened, his vision blurring slightly. "Mender, are you... almost done?..." he said, swaying where he stood.

"I-I've almost got it, almost..." Mender replied, the pile now about a third as massive as it previously had been. Turning his head over his shoulder, he looked back at Ocean with a renewed panic. "Ocean, l-look!" he called out, pointing to the side opposite of where Forest was trapped.

Ocean rushed toward the other side of the pile, but he felt one of his hooves slip out from under him, his face slamming into the dirt. With a pained grunt, he slowly got back on his hooves, weakly spitting out the dirt in his mouth before picking up his pace once more, hurrying toward the fire. Coming face to face with the flames, he felt himself struggle to gather his remaining energy, his horn flickering a few times as he tried to force it to come to life once more. C'mon. Just one more...

The fire was quickly swallowing up the distance between itself and the pile as Ocean stood between them, his horn flickering on and off like a faulty light bulb. He gritted his teeth as he finally managed to force the last of his energy toward his horn in one last surge, making it light up in full as the water came forth from its tip. As the fire receded, Ocean found himself short of breath as his knees gave out beneath him, a warm wetness on his upper lip. He raised a shaky hoof, touching the wet spot as he brought it into his vision. His hoof had been stained crimson. He forced himself back onto his hooves, taking a few steps toward the pile before falling to his knees once more.

"M-Mender... I think... I'm gonna take a nap..." he heard himself say dreamily, before he fell down onto his side, his vision fading in and out of focus. As his gaze touched upon Mender's flank, a soft, faint thought echoed in his head. That's funny. He doesn't have a cutie mark. Then, he resigned himself to rest, his world fading away to a dreamless slumber.

Unknowns

The bright sunlight trickled softly into his consciousness as he was drawn out of his dreamless sleep. As his mind slowly began to whir to life once more, his eyes gently cracked open, letting the light flood into them. A very light smile graced his lips as he spent a few moments longer simply resting against the tree, neither moving nor opening his eyes any wider, so very hesitant to let the moment go.

But all moments, be they beautiful, horrible, or anywhere in between, must end, and this moment was no exception.

Drawing himself out of his dreamy state back into the realm of lucidity, he opened his eyes the rest of the way and raised his hooves up to rub them groggily. With a cat stretch and a few delectable cracks of his back, he rose up from his resting place. He took a look around him, taking in the peaceful landscape. It was almost like a scene out of a painting: the rolling hills every which way, the lovely tree beneath which he had rested, the distant treetops that poked up above the horizon in one direction—all of it contributed to the pleasant vista that made up the world around him. As wonderful as the view was, however, something felt out of place. But...

No, he thought to himself, not allowing such a vague and senseless feeling to bother him, choosing instead to admire the tranquility of his location. Everything is fine.

After spending a few minutes loitering and admiring his surroundings, he brought his attention back to his saddlebags, which were laid up against the base of the tree, right where he had set them.

Of course, that must have been where he had set them, because that's where they were now. Right?

Eyeballing them for a moment, he trotted over and opened one of the pouches with his magic, reaching in and pulling out what he assumed to be his canteen, raising it to his lips to take a sip.

Only rather than a canteen, he instead found a pair of binoculars pushed up to his lips. Wrong pouch. Sliding the binoculars back into their pouch, he shook off his grogginess and reached into the pouch he knew was the right one.

Except that wasn't the right one either, which he realized as he found a broken compass. Why's this thing broken, anyway? he thought, before dismissing the inquiry for the time being, much more concerned with his struggle to find the canteen.

Why can't I remember where I put this thing?

He found himself digging through the remainder of the pockets on his saddlebags, becoming more and more frustrated with each pouch that failed to yield his goal. I have to have a canteen, right? I mean, I'm out in the wilderness and how else have I been keeping hydrated? A moment after this reflection, he stopped in the middle of searching one of the pouches, the strange feeling he brushed aside earlier back once more, and growing in intensity with each passing second.

How did he not know whether he had a canteen? And did he even know if these saddlebags were his?

Sitting down on his rump beside the saddlebags, the strange feeling turned to one of unsettling discomfort, his expression of perplexity shifting to a wide-eyed look of worry as his surroundings suddenly felt much more alien than they were only moments ago.

I need to retrace my steps, he thought, chewing on his lip as he shifted uneasily where he sat. So yesterday, I came to this tree, but before that I...

The gears in his head turned for a moment as he dug as hard as he could. Do I even remember coming here? Do I remember anything before that? Do I remember where I was going? Behind all these questions, one unavoidable and unnerving question lurked, and it was only so long before he found himself forced to confront it. Perhaps some subconscious part of his mind had realized it well enough to instill a creeping sensation of wrongness in his psyche from the moment he had woken up.

Could he remember anything?

It was a question that invoked a sudden sense of nausea not too unlike that of vertigo, causing his head to spin. He felt a pressing need for oxygen overwhelm him.

No, he couldn't panic. Panicking would solve nothing. He had to think. Surely, there was a reason for his memory difficulties. Collecting himself, he turned his focus inward, prodding at his mind for answers. What do I remember? Surely, something must be there. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, putting every ounce of his consciousness to work in his struggle to recall anything.

It was as though he were trying to turn back a page when he was already at the front cover of a book: there was a void that indicated that the whole of his life began on this afternoon, that he did not exist a year, a month, a week, or even a day earlier. But that was utterly unreasonable. One could not simply pop into existence as an adult, sitting beneath the branches of a tree, sleeping the day away; although many things were muddled in his mind, that fact was indisputable.

As he sat there in his incredulity, head held in his hooves, he soon remembered why he was looking for his canteen to begin with. His mouth was dry and sticky, and it occurred to him that he might have been a while since he had a drink—not that he could remember, but his body very clearly demanded water, sooner rather than later. Reaching into the last unsearched pocket of what he assumed to be his saddlebags with his telekinesis, he pulled out a sizeable canteen that was about halfway to the top. Without wasting another second, he unfastened the cap and pressed it desperately to his lips, chugging most of the water without taking a breath. He pulled the canteen away from his lips with a refreshed sigh, opening up the pocket from which he took it. Maybe I'll remember where it is next time, he mused, cracking a nervous smile.

He lifted up the canteen to return it to its original spot once again, but as his eyes combed over the saddlebags, a small piece of text sewn onto the side caught his eye. Inscribed were two words: OCEAN BREEZE. That must be... my name?

His own name sounded not the least bit familiar. Or perhaps it wasn't even his own name—what if the saddlebags were a family heirloom? Or perhaps he had borrowed them from a friend. He didn't know, and his ignorance of such a basic element of his past enticed a feeling of deep disquietude. What else don't I remember about myself?

Pausing to think for a moment, he turned his head to look behind him, setting his gaze on his flank, noting the sea blue color of his coat. On it, although awkward to examine without any sort of mirror, was the crest of a wave with a gust of wind blowing overhead. Maybe I'm some sort of sailor? Though that wouldn't make much sense. Doesn't look like there's a drop of ocean for miles around.

He took another look over at his saddlebags, considering the fact that he hadn't noticed a single piece of food in any of the pockets he had checked. His stomach echoed his concern, rumbling discontentedly. Taking one more look around him, he gave a sigh, scanning the horizon. Although he hadn't a clue where to go, staying there wasn't an option. I guess there's no risk of getting lost when I don't have a clue where I'm going, he thought, though the idea did little to relieve his unease.

He turned to the distant forest marked by trees on the horizon. After weighing it in his mind for a few moments, he decided that it was best to head toward something, even if it was as mundane as a forest, given how few landmarks he had to use. Grabbing his saddlebags and setting them on his back, he took a deep breath, and then he took his first step into the unknown.