Chronicles of Chris Redner

Chapter 3: Perseverance

The sun had set by the time Chris was able to approach the town, ushering in the beautifully crafted night, with bright stars riveted across the indigo colored caelum bringing forth his sense of awe and wonder. The cool nights breeze swept through the town as almost a cleansing factor after the long day before the next, gently easing the city to rest and to sleep.

The city was exponentially larger than what Chris had judged it to be, with streets lining the landscape and buildings housing many ponies, equipment, and other objects necessary for the continued and routine lives of the citizens. Piercing the very clouds stood multiple monolithic towers and skyscrapers which seemed to look over the town in a protective and yet abandoned manner at the same time. It was almost frightening in a sense that so many possible things could await him and he had no perception of whether they would be good or bad, helpful or detrimental. He took his first step into a world unknown to him and wandered the streets for hours reveling at the sights. The crystalline waters gently pushing through the worn earth, the stone statues depicting officials and other important figures he did not know all covered in a flowery vine that covered the bottom, outermost regions of the stone, wrapping it in a seemingly harmless blanket of a beauty he'd never realized till now. He gazed in awe at the brilliant trees dotting the streets that seemed to shield the city from whatever may come to harm it. The soft lamps gave a warm glow to the surroundings, lighting the way for an lost, weary traveler, providing an almost guardian like aura of gold light. The whole city, though now asleep, seemed so welcoming and so protective. The feelings starting lulling Chris into ease and exhaustion as his eyes began to feel heavy and his pace slowed dramatically as he longed for rest. But where? Where would he go and who would take him in? He'd no money to spare and didn't even know what had any monetary value at all or what type of currency, if any, was used.

He wanted to ask somepony. To find out their customs and find somepony willing to teach them to him. But his mind and body had other plans for him and he was forced to stop in a small grouping of trees outside of the main part of the city. There, he found a wooden bench and promptly rose to rest upon it. There he found what seemed to be a local newspaper under the heading of "Manehattan Post".

'So that's where I am,' Chris thought to himself. 'Manehattan'. The name seemed so familiar and yet so distant and alien that Chris couldn't put his hoof on it, but he quickly let the notion alone as he was overcome by sleep, finally letting his mind rest completely after this troublesome yet fortuitous day. He let his dreams take hold of him and he was fast stolen away from this world.

***

For several long hours the exhausted pony slept. Though he had almost no recollection of any past and couldn't tell, it was perhaps the first time he'd really slept in years. He awoke slowly, letting the beautiful and glistening morning sink into his conscious. He approached his new world with a newly found vigor of sorts and raised to his hooves, sighing in a long and exaggerated tone which reflected his ease and comfort. The pony felt something--something that he could only describe as good. He was happy. For the first time in a long time, Chris was happy; and only for the sake of the place he was in. Just being there at that point in time made everything seem clearer. With a slight spring in his step, the confident pony looked about him and took in the bustling city, which seemed almost like a living being. It was cleaned, it tended and guarded its residents and kept all the traffic in check. Like blood flowing through veins, giving necessary nutrients to an organism, carts and satchels full of food, water, and other provisions swept through the city, supplying everything with its necessities needed to maintain a certain homeostasis for the city and it's residents. It had a peculiar magnificence that Chris found hard to describe. Instead of working his mind any further, he decided to blindly accept its beauty and move further towards the center of town, all the while planning out his next move.

'Better go talk to someone, I guess--' he thought to himself as the voice inside his head trailed off.

His mind hit a sudden realization like a wall. He realized that he had never spoken himself. He'd no idea what he sounded like or even whether or not anypony would understand him. He thought in a language from his past so long ago forgotten and yet the coherency of his own thoughts suddenly frightened him. How could he think if he hadn't spoken any words. Where did this line of understanding of his language syntax come from; and possibly more importantly, how did he have the cognitive skills to know something was amiss. He did not understand and it frightened him to know that he knew all this information but did not know why or where from. It was as if he'd lived for many years even though, as far as Chris was concerned at this moment, he'd only lived for days. Was it a sort of amnesia? Had he lived for many years in this land but suddenly forget through some sort of trauma? And more importantly, how did he know what amnesia was or how to apply it to his situation. His mind, ironically, raced like a horse around theories and explanations but his mind just wasn't ready to accept any of them. His head started to ache, making the pony abandon the fruitless pursuit of knowledge and carry on with what he did know and what he could control. Hesitantly, he tried to speak.

"H-hello?" he squeaked. His voice broke in its high pitch to which the stallion promptly adjusted to a deeper tone. He wasn't sure why he'd said hello. It just seemed natural. Like he was greeting himself--and in a way, he was correct. "Hello" he tried again, greeting himself more firmly. His voice had a certain low ring to it. An almost heavy power. It was deep, forceful, but comforting, like the voice of a father to his child. Satisfied, Chris slightly smiled and started to move again but was interrupted by an unrecognized voice. He slowly turned and met the eyes of a sea green mare with worried eyes but a calm expression on the rest of her face.

"Are you OK?" she spoke with concern.

Chris slightly reddened at the sympathy from the mare and replied in broken words, "Y-yes. I am f-fine." He felt so stupid as he tried to express his thoughts, but what did he expect. This was, after all, the first time he ever tried speaking. Frankly, he was happy that they both understood each others sentences. He pondered that for only a brief moment till she spoke up again with the same level of concern.

"You sure don't sound fine to me. Are you sure you're alright? Because you were just over there greeting yourself a minute ago." she mused, slightly chuckling to herself at the notion. Chris wasn't sure how to respond and he fitfully tried to form words to answer the mare. All he could conjure; however, were stammerings and stutters that only proved himself all the more foolish.

The mare receded back to her initial concern and bade the stallion to come and sit down with her. On a certain level, she really was concerned for his well-being. Chris hadn't given a clear answer to her question so she thought perhaps some rest would clear his mind. She led him to another bench closer to the middle of town and began again in a friendly and sympathetic manner, "My name's Moonlight." she continued, looking at Chris. "What's your name?" she then asked.

Chris wasn't sure how to respond again. What was his name? It just hit him that he couldn't even remember his own name. His name, the one and only thing that would ever really belong to him and identify him and his purpose for his life. He couldn't remember.

"I don't know" was all he could reply. He didn't even look at her as he said it.

"No really, what's your name. You can tell me." she said reassuringly. But unfortunately, no matter how reassuring she may have been, it didn't change the fact that he didn't know. All he could do was repeat himself in an almost guilty like tone. The sadness in his voice at the loss of his identity struck Moonlight. She realized that he truly did not remember his name.

"Well where are you from?" she asked, almost pleading for a real answer.

"I don't know" he responded once more, even more ashamed of his answer. "I woke up in a cave outside of town. I don't know how I got there or anything that happened before then. I don't even remember my life. I didn't even know what I was when I woke up."

Moonlight almost couldn't believe what she was hearing but there was a certain honesty in his voice and she knew that the stallion remembered nothing about himself. 'It must've been scary for him' she thought to herself. 'To wake up and not know who you are.' She hadn't the slightest idea how scared he really was. You learn how to speak from your parents as a child. Imagine knowing how to speak without any parents. Without a childhood. To know everything except how you know it. Moonlight couldn't begin to comprehend.

"Is there anything I could do for you?" It was the least she could offer. She didn't really expect an answer. What could she do?

"I don't know" he repeated. This time in a monotone, almost dead kind of way.

Moonlight looked to the ground, absently thinking all the while trying to understand the situation. She'd never dealt with an amnesic pony of any kind before and didn't really know how to proceed.

"So you don't remember anything?" she asked him. All he could do was shake his head. Moonlight felt sincerely bad for the stallion and she sat back onto the backing of the bench and thought in silence for many moments, trying to think of any way to help the beleaguered pony out of this hell she couldn't imagine. Thinking long and hard, she went through many scenarios trying to help him; thinking of ways to find out what defined him as a pony. Perhaps if she started there, the rest would come to him in a flash of remembrance.

Suddenly, a simple solution suddenly relieved Moonlight of her troubles and at the realization; she felt terribly foolish for not having come to this simple conclusion earlier. There was one definitive thing that defined all ponies; and everypony had one. His cutie mark! The one mark, or perhaps the one symbol that embodied whatever it was that defined him as a pony. What was his cutie mark?

"I got it!" she exclaimed at her realization. "Lemme see your cutie mark!" A certain wave of almost triumphant energy washed over herself. It was the perfect way to start his journey toward redefining himself. If only it'd been that simple.

"My what?" he asked, slightly confused at the nomenclature.

"Your cutie mark. Everypony has one. It's was defines our talents and ourselves." she explained. But after looking down, she found her triumphant energy quickly leave her, replaced by feelings of worry and misunderstanding. In place of his mark laid only more of his shiny coat. His flank bore no mark she'd hoped for and to their incredible dismay, this made any next moves significantly more difficult. She found herself back at 'square one' with perhaps even less answers than she had before. Chris, not even knowing what she was talking about, dismissed the comment altogether. He was too concerned with his lack of identity to pay any mind to his lack of definition; and though the two intertwined and were equally important, he was too distraught to make the connection and focused on his next course of action.

"I've never seen anything like that on a grown stallion." she spoke in a dumbfounded tone.

Chris ignored her, not really knowing why, but in a weird way he didn't care. Moonlight; however, continued to ponder other ways to find his identity. 'It's almost like he's a little colt again. He has to go through his own weird kind of childhood-- she thought, her voice trailing off as though there could be no other way, and try as she might to prove herself wrong, no other explanations or solutions presented themselves. With her last idea shot however, she was willing to try anything to help fix the situation.

She almost questioned her helping him. He was a stranger to her after all. And all this could just be a ruse in order for him to gain something of value from her. Still, she was driven to help the stallion. It was the bounds of society that drew them together, for she and all other ponies had been taught as fillies and colts to help another in need, for they couldn't know how much trouble one was really having until then. It was her nature, her lesson, and her lifestyle. She could almost hear her mother lectures of equal treatment and fairness in her simple statement drilled into the young mares mind as a filly, 'Treat others the way you want to be treated.' Such a simple statement taught to all fillies and colts and only now did she truly realize its importance in society and to the rest of pony-kind. Not to say she didn't know its purpose; it'd simply taken her this long to realize the magnitude of its importance; how heavily those words sat in her mind now. Driven by her early teachings, she truly wanted to help him find himself because she'd have expected the same were she in his position.

Moonlight took the additional time and silence to aid her efforts of thinking how to help. "I'll tell you what." she stated after some time, "I mean no offense, but after all that has transpired for you today, I think it may be best to visit a hospital and make sure you're ok. Would you be ok with that?" she asked. Chris absorbed her words and thought about the offer. All things considered, he still wasn't sure what to make of his perplexing quandry and didn't know what else to do. He decided, if it could be called a decision, to go along with her recommendation. "Don't worry," she added, "I'll go with you. I'm sure after everything you don't want to be alone. Just follow close behind me, ok?" Chris silently nodded and fell in line behind her, letting her lead him to possibly his only way of finding out who he was. He followed her, still confused yet almost content. He wasn't sure why, but he trusted Moonlight. Perhaps it was the way she spoke but he felt safer around her. They made their way to the closest hospital, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would find purpose.

***