Still so Far

by CPT Gray Wolf

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Original Character, Adventure
Length: 7439

A lone pony makes her way to Equestria.

Amissa has traveled her whole life just to reach Equestria.

She'll travel any distance just to make it to that safe place.

Nothing else could possibly matter...

Nothing...

Published 2017-07-11 01:50:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-08-31 12:23:20 UTC

Chapter 1: Departure

Amissa woke with a start.

She took a moment to reacquaint herself withe her surroundings.

She was still with the caravan she had been traveling with for the past two months. She felt the wagon sway as it was pulled along the path through the grasslands.

She relaxed. It had been years sense she had thought about that day. She found herself playing with the necklace she wore around her neck.

"Are you alright, Miss Amissa?"

She jumped slightly and turned around to see a gray earthpony mare with a ruby mane and golden eyes sitting next to her.

"I'm fine Bells. Thank you.", she replied, trying not to sound shaken.

"You're crying." Bells continued to look concerned.

Amissa, wiped her cheek. She was crying.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" Bells asked, refusing to simply brush it off.

"I'm fine," Amissa insisted, "Just a... bad dream."

That seemed to satisfy Bells, as she finally changed the subject. "We're approaching the northern fork. I suppose that means you'll be leaving today." She was clearly trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yeah..." Amissa simply glanced out of the wagon at the rolling landscape of grass and wildflowers.

"I do wish that you'd come north with us to Halstien. It's such a lovely place, and they could most certainly-"

"I'm not going to Halstien." Amissa interrupted.

Bells sighed. "I know, but I had hoped. I have enjoyed your company these last months."

"I know." Amissa put a hoof on Bells shoulder. "But I have to keep going."

The caravan came to a halt, as a stallion's voice called from outside. "Bells! Is is Miss Amissa awake?"

"Yes, she's here!" Bells called back. "Looks like it's time for you to leave." She said with a slight pout before Amissa pulled her into a hug.

She smiled

Amissa let her go, and climbed out of the wagon.

The other ponies in the caravan were waiting there.

The oldest stallion spoke up first. "It's been good to travel with you these past weeks. We've prepared what we could for you, though I'd like to ask again for you to come with us." He spoke as he hoofed her a bag of supplies.

"I can't" She took the bag, and gave a weak smile. "But maybe we'll meat again someday."

"I doubt that Miss." He said in his thick accent. "You have a long way ahead of you."

"So do all of you."

"But not half of what you have." He waved to the others, to signal them to get ready to leave. "We'll all miss you."

"And I'll miss all of you. Thank you all." She said, as the others all got ready to leave.

A gray stallion with safire mane walked up. "Here."-he hoofed her a small bracelet-"This is yours. It's from me and my sister."

She took the bracelet. It was made from both metal and grass, with small polished stones woven in between.

"Thank you, Strings." She looked back up to see him already leaving, along with the rest of the caravan. "Good luck to you all!" She called out, as they departed.

They all waived as they left up the northern path of the north fork.

Amissa stood waiving back as they slowly disappeared from sight.

She stood there for several minutes, until she couldn't see anything.

Once again, as for most of her travels, she was alone.

It was in this moment that she decided to take note of her situation.

She slipped the bracelet onto her hoof, and began looking through the supplies she had been given.

Two loaves of slightly stale bread, some wild fruit, a small curved steel blade, a canteen of water, and some twine. It wasn't much, but it would keep her alive.

For now at least.

She gave a mild sigh of approval, tied the bag around her neck, and began surveying her surroundings.

She spread her wings, and took to the sky. In doing this, she realized just how open the area she was in happened to be.

Trees were scarce. It was mostly grass and the occasional bush or patch of flowers. Looking closely, she could see rabbits and prairie dogs running about in the grass. Looking north, after the caravan, she could only see a road that seemed to stretch forever. She looked back east, the way they had come, to see mostly the same thing.

Finally, she looked to the northwestern path of the northern fork.

That was her path. Her winding, unending line to follow.

She had a long way to go.

So she flew.

Chapter 2: Heat

It was hot.

Hot and dry.

Amissa looked to the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight.

The sun beat down and baked the grass and dirt.

There were no trees large enough for Amissa to hide beneath and wait out the heat of the day. So she carried on.

As she flew, the heat and the sun played tricks on her eyes. The heat danced on the path below and bent the light shimmering like water.

Her mouth was dry already, and she found herself stopping for a drink.

She took a few good sips of the water she had been given.

She briefly considered pouring some of it onto her back to cool herself, but thought it best to conserve what little she had. She didn't know when she would next find more, and what she had could only last her so long.

She replaced the cap onto the canteen and put it back in the bag.

As she returned to her flight, she considered the heat again.

Despite how far north she had come, it seemed to be getting hotter. She knew it must have been mid summer, but even so. Perhaps there was a desert ahead of her.

As she pondered these things, she flew.

She kept on, following the winding path below.

It was the only mark on an otherwise untouched landscape of grass and bushes.

She didn't stop again for some time.

When she did, she drank and pulled out one or the loaves of bread.

She broke the loaf in two, placing the extra half back in the bag, along with the canteen.

Upon trying the bread, she quickly regretted putting away the water. It was sour and dry, but at least it was filling.

The dryness in her mouth was overwhelming, and she was forced to take another drink.

She once again, repacked her things and took flight.

She took notice of a mild stinging sensation across her back.

She was getting a sunburn.

She regretted not asking the caravan for a blanket or cloak to shade herself from the sun.

She would need to stop soon, or risk being slowed by the pain.

Just as this crossed he mind, she saw something ahead. A thin, dark line appeared on the horizon. It seemed to cross right over her path.

She picked up her pace, trying to see what it was.

Trees! It was a line of trees!

As she looked, she saw an unmistakable shimmer of reflected light just beyond.

It was a river!

Water! Shade! Relief!

With half the day left, she flew as fast as she could to get out of the sun.

Despite it's clear visibility in the distance, the flight took upwards of thirty minutes. She was tired as she closed the final distance between her an the line of green trees and plant.

It hadn't been a mirage. She could see a thin stream of water banked on either side by white sand,, and further up, large, deep green trees.

From the size of the river she figured it must have been in some sort of dry season. Yet, even so, there was crystal clear water, and she could see small fish darting about, just below the surface.

She found a spot on the banks, shaded by a large river birch.

The tree hung towards the river, as though it's very purpose was to shade those who came to its banks.

Amissa thanked the tree for it's shade, and though, the only response she got was a rustling of leaves, the life of this place made her feel welcomed.

All around, small animals ran up for water. Small birds nested in coves along the banks, and it the trees. insects buzzed, and fish splashed in the water. It was the most living place she had seen since entering the grassland.

For just a moment, she felt a calming peace come over her.

Then she felt the burning on her back.

She remembered her dream. Her eyes grew cloudy as she felt moisture running down her face.

She shook it off, and trotted up to the water.

A small fish swam up to her. It watched, as if it were, in some way, knowing, and concerned. It watched her as she knelt down by the water.

She greeted the fish. It simply watched her.

She suddenly realized how alone she was. She had spent most of her time alone, but having spent the last two months in the company of other ponies reminded her that there were other ponies in the world. Ponies she could talk to. Who would listen to her, and would talk back.

She looked at the fish again. It still stayed, watching, as if waiting for her.

She spoke to the fish. She didn't know why. She just felt some need to.

She told it of her dream, of her past, of her travels. She told the fish of her journey through towering forests, across rivers, deeper then anypony could fathom. She told of mountains that scrapped the clouds, and deep valleys that would fill with fog in the earliest hours of morning. She spoke of ponies she had met, of her mother. She laughed, and cried, and spent the day talking to the fish, which simple stayed and watch, clueless, but seemingly understanding. As though it had been given some knowledge by a higher power, that it was needed there.

As the sun began to lower, and the heat of the day died down.

Amissa looked once more to the fish who has stayed and listened to her. She thanked it.

At that moment, is if on cue, it turned and left. Going on to live it's simple life.

Amissa waved goodbye, as though she were waving to a friend.

She looked up to the tree above her. Despite how low the sun was getting, its shadow persisted.

She decided to rest there a while.

With no blankets, and her back still sore, she decided to simple lay on the sand by the trunk of the tree. The damp sand was cool against he chest. She lay there for a while, thinking about her day, and the journey she still had ahead of her.

She lay there, calm and peaceful.

She slept.

Chapter 3: Clouds

It was night. Dim moonlight shown through the branches of the tree.

Amissa had been awakened be a feeling of cold on her hooves.

She looked to see that the river has risen while she slept. If was now brushing her hooves where she lay.

She looked closely, and even in the dim moonlight, she was able to make out that the water was now murky. As apposed to how clear it had been when she had lay down.

She stood up. Her fur covered in damp, cold, sandy patches wherever her body had touched the ground.

Her sunburn had died down with the heat, and she now relished in the cold night.

It was dead quiet, save for the sound of the river.

She made her way out from under the tree and looked to the sky. It was a clear night.

The stars were clearer than she had ever seen. They shone so brightly, and so numerously that she was nearly convinced that the sight couldn't be real. The only interruption was the dim, slowly waning crescent moon that now lit the world around her.

She scanned the sky closely, until her eyes came across a dark patch, far to the north.

Clouds.

The first she had seen since entering the grasslands.

She watched, trying to ascertain the extent of the storm. The distant clouds lit up with a flash. It took upwards of thirty seconds for the sound to reach where she was, and if it hadn't been for how quiet it was, she likely never would have heard it.

A dull vibration shook the air ever so slightly. The storm was far off, and big.

Amissa sat, watching. Trying to see it the storm was coming her way.

Sure enough, as she watched, she could see the starts in front of the storm being covered by the black expanse of clouds.

She weighed her options.

She could stay where she was. She would have shelter from the rain, but she would be at risk for floods, or lightning.

On the other hoof, she could run. If she was lucky, she might make it past the edge of the storm before it hit. Other wise she would be caught in the open without shelter.

There was no telling just how bad the rain or wind would be.

She watched the storm slowly getting closer as she thought.

She had to keep moving.

Chapter 4: Storm

Amissa filled her canteen in the river.

She took note that the previous day's efforts had left it half emptied. She would half to be more careful in the future.

Luckily, this time, and hopefully, from now on, she would travel at night.

She took a moment to sample some of the wild fruits she had been given.

They were sour and hard, but they would keep well for it. She was glad not to worry about her food spoiling any time soon.

She looked back to the lingering storm in the distance. She thought once more of staying and waiting it out.

The thought passed, and she took flight.

~~~~~

Amissa looked at the thin sliver of the moon in the sky as it kissed the distant horizon.

She had been flying for hours already.

She looked up. The sky sparkled brightly above her. Stars shone like tiny holes showing a bright light through a deep navy canvas.

It was captivating.

She stared, not realizing that she had slowed down, ever so slightly.

Her attention was brought back by a low rumble that she felt in her chest. She wasn't sure how long she had spaced out for.

She looked to the storm. It was close now. The thunder was becoming far more audible.

She surveyed the mass of clouds, unable to spot an end. She wasn't sure if it was too dark to see, or if the storm truly was just so large that she couldn't see its end.

She considered going above to avoid the worst of the wind and rain, but being unable to see and end to the storm, and the speed at which it was moving, made her concerned that she could become disoriented and lose her way from the path. Worse yet, she could become trapped above the storm, forcing her to follow it south, or whichever direction the wind took it, until she found an end, shelter, or it dissipated.

As much as she hated the thought, she would be better off braving the storm directly, hoping to outrun the worst of it. If nothing else, she could set down, and follow the path on hoof, if it came to that.

She held on her course, hoping to the heavens that she could avoid that of the storm.

She flew for another thirty minutes.

The storm was within spitting distance...

In the dim starlight she could see the haze of a wall of heavy rain. She could smell the moisture in the air, and feel an electric buzz of lightning waiting to strike.

She kept low to the ground, not wanting to become at risk of lightning strikes, or high wind tossing her about.

The world was slowly becoming pitch black, as the stars were swallowed by the dark clouds.

The rain started.

Just a few drops at first.

Then more...

Amissa made sure her supply bag was sealed as tightly as possible.

A bright flash split the dark sky not more than a mile away. The sound following shook the world and caused Amissa's ears to ring loudly.

The rain was pouring down now. The drops were indistinguishable to the point that, had the downpour been any thicker, Amissa may have felt as though she were drowning.

She could only barely see the path, and struggled to maintain her course.

Again she was blinded, as the dark world was shattered by a bright flash, and a sound that nearly knocked her out of the sky.

The strike couldn't have been more than a couple hundred feet away.

The wind was violent and Amissa fought to keep her path.

She found herself being tossed around like a toy. The storm was a giant, and she was nothing more than a doll for it to play with as it pleased.

Another lightning bolt exploded directly ahead of her.

She had to land.

She set down on the muddy path.

She could barely see. Cold rain soaked through every inch of her coat.

She held herself against the swirling winds.

She wouldn't last forever in this storm. She had to keep moving.

She pressed on.

Chapter 5: Homestead

There was no "time".

The storm was an eternity.

There was no light. No progress.

Only the storm.

It felt to Amissa as though she had been trotting on for days.

She was shivering cold. The wind and the rain had soaked through and stripped away the warmth from the world.

She almost preferred it to the heat of the sun. Yet she shook as she continued on.

Lightning continued to light up the sky and shake the earth. Though it no longer caused her to jump. She had begun to grow numb to the feelings of the storm.

The world was a haze, and all she could do was keep going.

She was beginning to feel weakened from fighting the storm. She knew the couldn't keep on for much longer.

She begged to the heavens for some relief from the unending downpour.

Lightning flashed nearby.

Amissa wondered if this was where she would die. If she was to freeze to death in the pouring rain, thousands of miles from her goal.

She may have been crying thought she couldn't tell.

Another flash went overhead. She missed it again.

Her strength left her, she collapsed into the mud of the path. She was sure now that she was crying, though the rain made it impossible to tell.

She was going to die. This was it.

Lightning flashed again.

She saw it.

In the distance, something. A building.

The thought was enough to get her back on her hooves. She moved slowly.

Once again it felt as though time were passing in years.

When she finally reached the structure she was truly too tired to keep on.

She could hardly see the building, but could tell that it was half collapsed.

She walked into the section that still stood. She was out of the rain.

Upon seeing some old drapes hanging over a nearby window, she trotted over and puled them down. They were dusty and worn, but intact.

She set her supply bag down in a corner and lied down next to it, pulling the thick cloth drapes over herself.

Hiding away from the wind and rain, moments ago having felt as though she were going to die, Amissa fought her own shaking. She was freezing, wet, and tired, but safe.

She let out a sigh between the chatter of teeth.

For hours, or maybe only minutes, she lay, too tired to move, but too cold to sleep. Thinking of what her traveling friends might be up to. She felt alone again.

She wondered, if she fell asleep, if she would wake up. She was afraid.

Finally, tiredness won out over cold, and fear, and she slept.

~~~~~

Amissa woke slowly.

It was quiet.

It was late evening by the look of it. The storm had finally ended, leaving a fresh, warm, thoroughly soaked world outside.

Amissa looked about the derelict structure that had saved her.

It seemed to be an old homestead, likely once the home of a family of settlers. She pondered where they may have gone.

Pushing away the heavy drapes she stood up and began looking around, searching for anything of possible use.

There was a couple of old chairs, an end table with a drawer, some broken paintings, and the remains of what may have once been a bed half trapped under the rubble of the collapsed section of the house. It was clear the place had been abandoned for years. It had probably been looted many times by desperate travelers, liker herself.

She walker over and pulled open the drawer of the end table. It was rough from years of neglect and dust. The contents rattled as it jerked open.

There was a dried up inkwell, some old quills, some paper, and a letter stamp.

Amissa picked up the stamp and looked it over.

It was heavy. The stamp itself seemed to be either brass or bronze, not that she could tell which, and had the image of a horseshoe with a clover superimposed over it. The handle was a red varnished wood, and there were traces of green wax stuck where the wood met the metal.

Amissa could only guess that the symbol was some family crest. She wondered again what may have happened that a family would disappear and leave such an heirloom behind.

She placed the stamp back in the drawer. ans went to close it, but the neglected draw stuck in place.

She hit the stubborn thing, trying to get it moving. Something rattled in the back of drawer.

Amissa reached her hoof in and felt for what had been knocked loose.

What she found was a small box of matches. She pondered if they were still of any use.

Giving the thoroughly stuck drawer one last look, she decided to leave it, and move on. She headed over to her things.

She looked down at her supplies and hoped that they were still dry. Upon opening the bag she thanked the foresight of her friends. The bag seemed to be waterproofed, with only a very small amount of water inside.

She added the matches to her things and looked to the drapes she had left on the ground.

An idea hit her.

She pulled out her knife and began cutting at the fabric. After cutting away any excess she cut a few holes and pulled out the twine. Soon she had herself a crude, sun-faded, bright pink cloak.

It was hideous, and rough, but it would keep her warmer at night, and out of the sun in the day.

Satisfied, she gathered her things and moved on.

She stepped out into the fading sun.

Looking around, something caught her eye.

She trotted over to a patch of bushes.

Pushing away the foliage revealed what she had seen.

She now knew where the family went.

She looked down at the three wooden crosses.

The world fell silent.

She looked at the graves. something crossed her mind.

She went back to the collapsed section of the house. There probably wasn't anything there, but she just had to check.

She pushed aside rubble as best she could. There couldn't be anything left, the homestead had been abandoned for years.

Then she saw it.

The bones.

Somepony had to have dug the graves.

As she revealed more, it only made here feel more sick.

Around the neck of the skeleton was the remains of a rope.

The picture came together.

Something happened, whether it was an accident, some animal attack, robbers, sickness, it didn't matter. This pony's family had died, and they couldn't cope.

So they had buried them.

They dug their families graves and then...

Amissa felt sick.

She didn't want to be there anymore. She turned to leave but...

She stopped.

She couldn't do nothing.

She turned around, searched the wreckage and grabbed a good sized piece of wood.

She gathered up the remains as best as she could, brought them over to the other graves and began digging. She didn't know why. It was just, important, for some reason.

It was as though, whatever force had shown her this place the night before, had saved her life, was asking her this favor.

It was something that needed to be laid to rest.

Amissa spent the last of the daylight digging, and burying the remains of the forgotten pony.

Once it was done, she took the piece of wood she had used, and planted it firmly at the head of the grave. She used a length of extra twine to tie another board on and form a cross.

There was one thing left she felt the need to do.

She bowed her head and whispered thanks and peace to whatever spirit may have still lingered there.

For a single instant she swore she heard the wind whisper in reply.

She smiled.

Her work, was done.

She turned to face her path, and left.

Chapter 7: Camp

Amissa wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was glad the eventually had.

It had been hours. The sun was finally beginning to set, and the cool of night was creeping in.

The dunes in the sand were casting long shadows across the landscape, as the sky was beginning to glow with a deep crimson.

Amissa looked about to get her bearings once again. She looked in the direction she had seen the smoke earlier. The grey plume had long dissipated, but she had a general direction, and that would, hopefully, be enough.

She gathered her things and wrapped herself back in her cloak.

The sky was quickly growing dark, giving way to a sky of glittering stars.

She took flight, heading up as quickly as possible, so as to get the best view of the area.

The sky and the sands below blurred together on the horizon, creating the illusion of an endless plane of two contrasting worlds. There was a black mirror above speckled with lights reflecting from some world she couldn't see through the pale, blank space below.

For all she knew she was flying upside down above an ocean of lights, and the desert sands were really clouds floating above her.

A strange feeling overcame her senses.

Was she awake?

How could she tell?

For all she know, she could still be back passed out under the pouring rain of the thunderstorm. The last few days could just be the delusions of her dying mind.

She shook herself out of it, shouting something and striking a hoof across her face to bring herself back to reality.

The pain brought her back and drew her eyes to a dip in the landscape. Her vision centered on a grouping of small trees and bushes.

It was an oasis.

It had to be the origin of the smoke.

She lowered her altitude to get abetter look.

Sure enough there was the remains of a small camp just inside a small grouping of trees. If she hadn't been looking, she probably never would have seen it.

She moved down to the location to investigate.

The camp seemed to be deserted.

There were a few empty tents and and a wagon of supplies sitting around a small fire pit. A dirty cooking pot was hung over the burnt out fire.

Amissa checked the the tens. There were no signs of anypony inside, but she counted six bedrolls.

"Hello!" she shouted out.

Silence answered her call.

Something felt off about this place. Why would anypony leave their things behind.

She went over and inspected the cart of supplies.

Moving back the cover revealed what appeared to be barrels of water along with crates of what she guessed might be food.

She went to pull open a bag sitting to the side only for it to tumble over, its contents clattering out.

Her face paled, and blood ran cold.

Several weapons lay about, some of them coated in what appeared to be dried blood.

She looked about, in worry.

Then she noticed what had had her on edge the whole time.

Hoofprints covered the ground all around the camp. Fresh hoof prints...

She turned readying her wings for flight. She stopped...

She felt a sharp point pressed to the back of her neck.

"Nyeta. Y chahs zhoa hehky!"

Amissa turned to see a grizzled stallion holding a gnarled blade at her.

"I don't understand." She faced him and tried to back up.

"Nyeta zhoa dyehvah!" The stallion shouted in his strange language, as he stepped closer. "Nyet hoi!"

Another blade was pressed to he side.

A mare holding a saber stood giving her a death stare as four others stepped out of the bushes and made themselves known.

"What do you want? Please." She looked about the group as they cornered her in. "I'm just a traveler, please-"

"Vohkanyetoi! Egnya!" The stallion's voice was harsh as he glared at her.

"I don't know what you're saying! Please I-" A blade brushed her neck, cutting loose her supply bag and leaving a small wound. "Hey!"

"Ahdyniet! Egnya fylah!" The mare pressed her saber to Amissa's throat.

The stallion turned to one of the others. "Hahst. Pahs!"

The other pony snatched away the bag and began to look through it.

"Please, those are my things, I need them to-" The mare holding the saber to her throat turned and struck her with the handle.

"Dehkyah dyehvah! Shahs svy vohka ahdyniet!" She held the sword over Amissa.

The pony who had took the bag, whispered something to the stallion who stood over her.

He smiled. It was a cruel smile.

"Please-" Amissa was cut off again as several swords and knives were pressed against her.

"Seh fylleti bluhgnetahvoi, ahs abnoi." He turned away from her and began to leave. "Hoi!"

"Ahy!" The shout rung out collectively between their group.

Amissa was shaking, clueless as to what was happening. "Please, let me leave."

"Ahdyniet zhoa dyehvah!" Another stallion in the group shouted, as he pulled her over. "Ah seh voi!"

He bashed his hoof across the back of her skull.

She felt pain, then blacked out.

Author's Note

This chapter contains foreign text that most readers may wish to skip over. Feel free to do so if you find reading it to be strenuous.

This language was included for the sake of diversity and not excluding content in such a way as the, "He shouted in a strange tongue", style of exclusion. Such content will not be included often throughout, but will be present on occasion.

If asked, I will gladly translate any lines of interest.

Thank you for reading.

Chapter 8: Robbed

The world was a spinning haze as Amissa woke. Her ears rung as she shifted to stand.

She tried desperately to remember what had happened through the the dizziness and the throbbing in her head. Her mind would not cooperate, and she realized she was falling.

She tried to catch herself, and failed, hitting the ground with a thud that shook her mind even further.

She lay there, not moving, waiting for the world to, once again, come into focus.

There was no way to know how long she had been there.

What had they taken?

The world snapped into focus. The events leading up to her concussion poured back.

She felt the stinging of the bleeding cut on her neck, and the throbbing in her head focused in on a painful welt where she had been hit.

Gritting her teeth, Amissa stood.

She reeled back, but caught herself.

There were no signs of the bandits. The tents were gone, and any remnant the campfire had been scattered and buried.

Amissa shouted out, but was drown out by silence and the rustling leaves of the oasis.

Still shaken, she checked herself over.

She ran her hoof over the painful bump where she had been struck and winced.

She moved her attention to the trail of blood dripping down her neck. The cut had mostly stopped bleeding but was dirty, and caked in sand and dried blood. She stared to try and brush away some of the dirt,and was greeted with stabbing pain.

After waiting for the Pain to die back down, she proceeded to brush away at the cut again, more carefully this time. She managed to to remove most of the dirt and sand. It still needed to be cleaned, but it would do.

She looked about for any supplies that may have been left behind. The area had been thoroughly cleared out.

They had taken her bag, and...

Amissa felt around her neck.

Her mother's necklace was gone.

Everything was gone. The only thing left was her tattered sun-bleached cloak.

She dug her hooves in to the sand, looking to the sky and screaming in rage.

The night responded, as always, with silence.

Amissa stomped furiously. She tore up nearby plants, shouted in anger, and slammed her hooves into trees leaving behind marks and leaving her hooves sore. She hit her head against a tree, wracking her traumatized brain, and causing her to stumble back.

Slumping to the ground against the tree, she burst out crying.

Suddenly she felt exhausted. Being robbed, her panic, her fit of rage, it had left her drained.

She laid against the tree, and placed her head in her hooves. She lay there crying, until she fell asleep.

~~~~~

It was mid day. The sun beat down, baking everything it touched with blistering heat.

Amissa opened her eyes slowly to the stabbing light.

Her head still ached, but the dizziness of the previous night had faded.

She placed a hoof against where her necklace used to be and had to stop herself from crying again.

Something caught her eye in the distance.

Past the brush of the oasis, along the dunes in the distance, barely visible, were a set of lines in the sand.

It must have been a trail left by the bandit's wagon after they had left.

The rage from last night re-intensified. She gritted her teeth and took flight. Getting closed she could see the lines in the sand ahead going southeast.

She took off as fast as she could, not paying attention to the heat of the sun, or her own hunger or thirst. She didn't care. They had taken something important, and she was going to get it back.

Chapter 9: Choices

Between the sweltering hear of the sun and the rage she was feeling, Amissa's blood boiled as the flew on.

The faint wagon tracks she followed carefully were her only hint as for where to go. They where the only significant features visible for miles.

The speed tore at Amissa's cloak and tossed about her main and tail. Particles of dust and sand that had been thrown into the air pierced through her coat and stung her skin.

For hours and hours she flew on.

She began to realize that the tracks were nearly gone, washed away by the wind. Soon she would be without any guidance.

The thought of being lost without any supplies in the desert began to shake her out of her blind fury.

She looked around only to see empty desert for miles and miles.

What if she lost the path entirely? What if she never caught up with them?

The consequences of her act of rage were beginning to set into her mind. Her stomach rumbled and she became aware of a dryness in her mouth.

She shook her head and thought of her mother's necklace.

The only chance she had now was to catch up with the thieves and get her supplies back, one way or another.

~~~~~

Amissa's hope was all but gone.

It had been a full day. She had flow nonstop the entire time. The tracks were long gone, and she was beginning to doubt her own sens of direction. She was exhausted, hungry, and desperately thirsty.

Her mouth was painfully dry, and even in the heat of the sun, she was no longer sweating. She was beginning to wonder how much longer she could carry on.

The night, while it had been a welcome relief from the heat, had done little to help her flight. Her mind was losing out to the lack of energy and sleep.

She was beginning to have lapses in her awareness. She would blink, only for an hour to pass, sometimes with her veering north or south. With all the changes in direction, she was sure she had lost the path, though she had little choice but to carry on.

The worst part though was her mind playing tricks on her. She would focus on the horizon only to see something in her periphery, but, upon looking to see it, the image would seem to dart away from view, or simply vanish, as though it had never been there at all.

It felt as though it were the hottest day so far. The air was thin, and Amissa was finding it harder and harder to maintain her altitude. She felt as though, through some factor or another, she would soon fall out of the sky.

What choices could she have made differently.

She regretted not searching for water at the oasis before leaving. Though she wondered if it would have helped. How much further could it have gotten her, a mile? Two? Ten?

She felt dizzy, as though she was spinning.

Could she make it? Was she going to die out here?

Weakness was overcoming her body. She realized her eyes were closed. She opened them to find herself falling.

Her panic was numbed by tiredness. She tried to open her wings but her body simply wouldn't respond. She couldn't move. She couldn't think.

She gave in.

The sand felt like stone, and burned like hot steel. Something popped, but Amissa could hardly feel anything anymore.

The world was filled with the bright light of the desert sun. It was blinding.

Then everything went dark.

Author's Note

This arc is dragging on, and taxing my mind, and I'm sick of it. I'm ending it and moving on in the next chapter.

Prologue: The Fire

Flora and her daughter ran. They ran like tartarus itself was chasing them.

Because it was.

Behind them a great fire raged, swallowing everything in it's path. It scorched the trees until they burned and popped, and heated the rain that poured down on them. It charred the leaves of all the the plants, and filled the air and sky with thick smoke.

The animals were long gone. Sensing the fire, they had long left or hid from the coming inferno. Amissa and her mother were alone, running for their lives through living burning destruction.

"Mama, it's too hot!", the foal cried as her mother carried her.

"We'll be okay." Flora reassured her daughter, "We just need to make it to the river."

She tried to act certain, but she didn't know how much more either of them could take, nor how much further she had to go. Her heart pounded and her breathes were labored from the smoke and heat. She would have taken flight if not for the thick canopy above them.

The heat on her coat made her feel as though she too would burst into fire at any second. She knew Amissa couldn't be fairing any better.

She pushed on.

There was no other choice. She had to. They would either make it to the river, or be consumed.

A loud cracking sound rung through the forest.

Amissa looked to see what was happening. "Mama, look out!", she shouted as a tree fell burning into their path.

They were trapped.

Flora looked up to the hole in the treetops, but it was too late. The fire had caught up.

She found a low spot in the ground. "Hold still Amissa. Whatever happens, stay still." She held her daughter tight to her chest, and wrapped her wings around her.

Amissa cried as her mother held her "Mama!"

"It's okay. I have you." She lay there. As the fire burned her feathers and fur, she held her daughter safely in he grasp.

~~~~~

An eternity had passed.

The rain fell, and cooled as the fire moved away.

The sun could be seen through the clouds.

Amissa struggled against her mothers grasp. "Mama?"

Her mother barely moved.

She pushed her way out from under her mothers embrace, and screamed.

"MAMA!", she looked down at her mothers burned form, "Mama! No!"

"Amissa," her mother stirred and looked at her, "you have to keep moving..."

"Mama, please! No!" Tears began to pour down her cheeks as she knelt by her mothers side. "You have to come with me.", she begged.

"I can't... You have to keep moving..." Flora could barely speak as she struggled to hold up her hoof and wipe away her daughter's tears. "You can still make it to Equestria... Go... You have to keep going..." Her hoof fell limp as she closed her eyes, and gave in to the pain she had been fighting.

"No! Please!" Amissa looked around in panic. "HELP! SOMEPONY! PLEASE!"

There was no response.

She continued to cry out, but the burnt out remains of the forest blanketed her shouts with silence.

She was alone...

Chapter 6: Smoke

It had been three days.

Three days of open sandy grassy emptiness stretching on for miles.

The grasses and brush were beginning to thin out, giving way to white sand and small dunes.

Amissa had guessed right, and she wished she hadn't.

The landscape was turning to a desert.

Over the last two days, there hadn't been any sign of water, of rain.

Shelter was also scarce. There hadn't even been a small tree for over a day. She had resorted to simply laying in the sand with her makeshift cloak stretched over her, during the day, to escape the sun.

The sand was still cool from the night, but the sun was beginning to impart it's full heat on the landscape below.

She couldn't sleep.

A light wind blew the sand about her, causing a scratching sound on the heavy canvas laying over her. She felt at though she were being buried alive.

A feeling of hunger came over her and she reached into her bag. She still had enough food for a few more days, so long as she rationed it carefully.

She ate a small amount of the bread, and grabbed her canteen.

There wasn't much left...

She would have to find water if she was to make it much further.

She took a sip.

Against her better judgment, she decided to do some scouting around while she had the sun to see where things were.

She stood up. The hot, dry desert air assaulted her.

She tied the cloak back around her neck, and took flight.

Making small circles, she surveyed the surrounding area.

The path she had been following up to this point was nearly invisible in the sand below her, and disappeared completely up ahead. Taking note of it's direction, she followed the missing path wither her eyes.

The dunes seemed to get bigger, and the grass seemed all but gone. The horizon was stained a yellowy white from sand and dust.

She looked north.

There was a line following where the grass stopped and the dunes rose. It stretched into infinity, an eternal windswept bed of pale sand and dead grass as far as the eye could see.

Finally she turned south.

Immediately something grabbed her attention.

Far in the distance, a small plume of smoke rose towards the sky. It looked to be from a campfire.

The though made her flinch. Yet if there was a campfire, then there must be ponies, and they must have water.

She wanted to head out right then, but knew better.

She took note of the direction, flew back down to the sand, and once again holed up to wait out the heat of the sun.