A peculiar little pony looked into the dusty antique mirror that had hung on the wall of her old cottage for many years beyond what she could remember. Just beyond its cold, flat surface is an elderly yellow pegasus with a dulled pink mane, a faded grey-yellow coat, and piercing green eyes staring back at her with the expression of one who has lost everything. The years had not been all too kind to her, her face resembling a withered grape, and her spine curved painfully in the middle where her saddlebags usually rested on her back. Her mane and tail, despite her efforts, stuck out in places with frayed, split ends, and a few grey streaks blended into the faded pink. Her wings are tattered, hanging semi-limply on either side of her frail body, too weak and fragile to sift the air.
The mare was old, her friends now gone, either passed away or crippled from old age, and she was left alone to wonder why life is so unfair. All the days she spent trying to make the world a better place, trying to help other ponies get through their own troubles, and teaching foals about the importance of something that not even she was entirely sure about anymore. It all, as she gazed at her frail form in that dusty old mirror, seemed so irrelevant now, as though all she went through for the sake of others, or for herself, was just for nothing. She thinks back on the many adventures she had been on, and all the times she had stepped up, when nopony else would. She remembered all the stories she had told, and the stories she never told, which, to this day, she still held near.
She blinked away a few tears as she averts her gaze from the reflection staring back at her, and instead lets her old eyes fall upon the dust covered window and the bright, sunny day just beyond. But it was not bright, sunny, or beautiful outside that window. No, that was merely just a memory from her past that she wished for to return, knowing all too well that she would not likely see the day that it would return. Outside the wind howled, and the rain fell in icy sheets, smacking noisily against the glass window, causing the glass and the frame it was set in to shake and rattle violently. It had been like this for several years now, with the rain only stopping for a short time before resuming. The frail mare wondered if one day the clouds would part some day, and allow the warmth of the sun to warm the land again.
The memories that drilled their way from the deepest recesses of her mind from gazing out the window drove her to look away, and instead let her gaze fall upon the small, cozy bedroom of her cottage. The various pictures of just as many various pets hung from the walls, neatly aligned about the room and set in colourful frames. Her bed, a single piece of old oak carved carefully by hoof and wing, was neatly made. Beside her bed, was a short, rounded nightstand with a single picture propped upon its smooth top. It was the cleanest and least faded of the pictures. It held a special place in her heart, as set in the frame was her fondest memories... Her friends. With a somber smile, she trotted slowly to the nightstand and extended a frail wing to pick the picture up. Before she can pick it up, her hoof bumps the side of the nightstand, jostling it slightly, and the picture fell flat on its surface, producing a loud SMACK that caused her to jump back slightly and clutch her chest with a matted fetlock. The poor mare feels her heart beating swiftly in her chest, and she has to take a moment, swallow, and breathe to calm herself.
-In editing.-
Your expression shifts slowly from surprise and fright, to that of sadness once again as you extend a weak and frail wing to pick up the fallen picture frame. Tears continue to fall from your cheeks as you look just to the left of the nightstand at a pair of worn saddlebags hanging on the wall. You know what is going through your mind as you gaze at those saddlebags and, despite your uncertainty, you are determined to go outside to venture into the unknown for answers. Why had darkness fallen on the world, why did it constantly rain, why won't the clouds part despite the constant effort of pegasus ponies, and most of all, where are the Princesses? Where those answers will come from, you are uncertain, but you will try anyway. You remember something your mother told you as she lay on her death bed, and the words fall from your lips in a loud whisper, only increasing your determination.
"'At the height of despair and in the eye of the storm will you find an answer, but it may not be the answer you're expecting.'"
Your own words fall flat as you lift the old saddlebags from the hook it hangs from, and set it on your bed. You open one of the bags and set the frame neatly inside its empty pocket. Then you, out of an old habit, fill the bag with essential supplies such as a rope, food, a compass, water canteens, and a few matches for a fire. You pack the worn saddlebags to the brim, and clip them shut. You then dawn some rubber boots, a heavy coat, and a scarf, then, with some struggle, shakily lift the saddlebags and let them slide onto your back. You let out a huff of air, and feel the weight threatening to buckle your old knees, but you stay up. You then trot sluggishly to the front door of your cottage, and before you open the door and leave on another adventure, you look behind you and survey the entire cottage. A tear falls from your cheek as you look away, and set out on your final journey, to find the answers.
The frigid air greets you with a stinging cold, that bites at your nose and hurts your eyes, as you blink away your tears. The tears become solid ice the moment they fall from your cheeks. You close the door behind you, locking it, and turn to your right. Along the small path to a bridge that crosses over a dried stream is the crumbling remains of a rotted fence that had, at one point, stood half your height. The bridge is patched in several places, and groans in protest under your weight as you cross over it. You stop half way across, and stare down at the dried creek. At one point it had been full of fish, and clean drinkable water. You look away, and continue along the narrow rock path from your cottage, toward the Everfree Forest and it's looming trees. The rain and hail pelt you as you trudge along the path, which from the constant downpour, had become muddy.
As you arrive at the line of trees that marked the outer edge of the forest, an almost somber silence greets you. Beyond its edge the forest is still, as though inviting you to enter into its deep embrace. You take a moment to look behind you at your cozy little cottage, standing alone at the top of a mound, in the middle of an open field covered in rain and ice. You look beyond the icy field and your lonely cottage, at the few standing buildings that made up what is left of Ponyville. You quickly look away from the decrepit sight of the town you held so near to your heart, and look once again, into the depths of the silent forest before you. You close your eyes as tears fall again, and you shudder in emotional agony. Collapseing to your knees, you sob. All the years that had gone by, you remember it all. The way the buildings crumbled under fire and falling rock, the blood spilled upon the once clean roads that went through Ponyville, from ponies scavenging and killing just so they would survive. The loss of your friends in that period... So many ponies fell. So many never got up again. Those who did, closed their eyes soon after. You remember it so clearly... The day that Equestria fell, the day clouds formed, and the Sun and Moon fell to the hooves of corruption, and perished. You want answers, and you don't care if you don't make it back. You just want to know what happened that day, and why.
Your crying slowly subsides, but even as you rise to your hooves again, your tears do not stop flowing. You are overcome with grief and anger, and fueled by the need to know the truth. You wipe your eyes, and quiver, fighting to regain control of your emotions. You open your eyes and, with some trepidation, enter into the darkness. The silence of the forest, once known for its dangers and constant sound of predators lurking around every corner.
To your surprise, and wonder, entering into the forest is, in its own way, akin to crossing through a threshold into another world. While not by much, the forest seemed to be illuminated by its own ghostly light, casting strange, unnatural shadows, that played off every tree with each shaky step you took. The ground here, while soft, is dry in contrast to the soil beyond the tree line. No rain nor hail fell from the sky here, and the wind that flowed through the branches, as well as between the trunks, whispered gently, an eerily soft melody that drew you further in. As you look up into the canopy of the Evergreens that twisted skyward around you, you feel dwarfed, like a foal.
Before the Elements of Harmony turned to dust, and the world fell into darkness the Everfree Forest was said to be the most dangerous place to travel. With the Timberwolves, carnivorous plants, and difficult terrain, the Everfree was without a doubt, a dangerous, and even deadly place to be. Now, however, as you take one step after another through the densely packed trees, you consider the idea that the forest might as well be the last safe haven. Admittedly, ever since the Elements turned to dust, you never brought yourself to travel into the forest further than you needed to, so you have no idea what the Tree of Harmony looks like now, or if it’s even still in the ravine. You wanted to be certain, and so as your last moments here tick away you feel the darkness tugging gently at your soul you wander deeper, and deeper into the woods.
In the span of about an hour you come to the broken bridge, which would have taken you the rest of the way, across the ravine to the ancient Two Sisters Castle on the other side. A thick fog blocked your view of the other side, so you can’t determine if the castle is even still there, or if it has deteriorated beyond recognition. You remember the trips you used to take with your friends to the old castle, exploring bits of it at a time, and trying to restore it every time you and your friends visited. You wish for a moment to have that again. You wish you could have a moment just to be with all your friends again.
You finally approach the edge of the ravine, your breath steady. You shuffle your wings, and look for the old path that lead to the bottom safely. You find it just a ways from the bridge, and you take a step to go down when a soft, echoing voice, deep and soothing, filled with sadness, and loneliness, fills your ears.
“What is fate? Do you know, my friend?” the voice asked. “Do you wonder what friendship is? Do you want to know?” as the voice asked these questions, you feel the air chill around you. And a shimmering streak of light, like a ribbon, floated past you, down the path. “It means a lot that you are here…” the ribbon of light solidified at the bottom of the ravine, into the shape of something that resembled a large pony, abou the size of Celestia, but with more mass, and features that didn’t make sense. Oddly enough, as it turned around, its whole body glowing, and only slightly transparent, making no impressions in the softer patches of soil, you feel compelled to follow, and so, you, despite your uncertainty, follow the phantasm into the ravine, and into a dimly lit cave.
Before you could say a word, as you rounded the corner, and entered the small cave, your eyes meet the darkened, withered form of what used to be the Tree of Harmony. Nearly the whole tree was grey-black, withered, with splits and cracks in the crystaline-like trunk. The only part that still held any life, was the center, where the Element of Magic used to be kept. It was a sad sight, one that brought only more tears to your eyes as you gazed at the dying tree. You feel the chill again, and the ghostly creature passes from behind you, and approaches the tree. It lifts its hoof to the center, where the star still faintly pulsated a dull purple. You are silent as it stands there in silence for what seems like an eternity, before it turns around, and gazes at you. Its mane was spiked like the head crest of a dragon, with transparent, colourless eyes that resembled a dragon, a long snout curved down in a sad expression, and two fangs protruding from its mouth. It looks at you, with eyes full of longing, before speaking softly once more in its deep voice.
“You’re looking for something… I can see it in your eyes, my child… You came here in search of something lost?”
“I… I came in… s-search of… answers… if I can find any....” Your words leave your mouth before you can even stop them. It felt natural, and still scary at the same time, to speak so calmly, and honestly. You look at the creature, with longing.
“What answers do you seek? I know much, but I do not read minds… anymore. That was lost along with my body.” he said. You assumed just to call it a he, because of the deep, male voice that you heard.
“I Have to know what happened to the world… why did it fall into darkness? Why is everything dying? What happened to the Equestria I knew?”
“To answer that question… I must tell you a story… one that may take a while.”
“I don’t care anymore… I just want to know....”
“Do you think you can handle the truth?” his expression shifts into a serious, and unsettlingly dark expression. You feel uncertain about him as he looks at you, but you are certain that you want to know everything, even if it took another lifetime to listen, you will listen to every word. To mark your point, and your determination to know, You lie down, and make yourself as comfortable as possible. He looks at you, his expression changing to concern. “Very well then… I guess the best way to start… would be to introduce myself....”
