The Human Spirit

How long has it been? Centuries? Millenia? Floating in a seemingly endless space with nothing but his own thoughts made It entirely impossible to tell. Surrounding him was the unending feeling of emptiness. He couldn't feel anything, he couldn't see anything, he couldn't smell, not even his own voice came to his ears. He couldn't even starve, nor grow old. He felt dead, but he knew he wasn't. He couldn't die through such means, and he did not want to die. He had a duty to his people when he returned. Maybe they aren’t even there anymore? He couldn't bear to think of such things. Yet he couldn't help it.

"Haaaa..." His eyes shot open in pure astonishment. Breathing. He could hear himself breathing. He thought it was impossible to hear in this void, yet he heard it clear as day. He let out another audible breath as he stared into the darkness.

His body twitched slightly as he decided to try to move, and his body responded in kind. He felt his stiff limbs bending, and twisting as his body made many cracking noises from the long period of unuse. The pain was blissful. The feeling of life returned to him after so long, and he couldn't feel any better. He then soon realized he still saw nothing but black and began to look around for anything he could see.

Then he spotted it. A thin patch of light showed itself just below him. Could it be? Had the time he'd been waiting for finally come? He reached out towards the brightness, yet he could not bring himself closer to it. It remained still, flickering as he stood suspended in the void.

Then, as if obliging to his will, the light began to expand across the inky blackness. Further, and further, it banished the darkness surrounding it. After a few seconds of agonizing anticipation, it engulfed his entire body.

He felt an overwhelming feeling of freedom. The light was his salvation, and he knew it would bring him back.

"Freedom..." That was the last thing he said before he started to feel a blisteringly cold wind blow from within the fluorescent light before it enveloped his entire being. He started to feel his weight return to him, and soon after the familiar feeling of falling came. The smile he wore grew as the freezing air whipped all around him. He began to laugh with the greatest glee he could ever remember. He felt like a child again, anxious to get their promised gifts on their birthday.

His thoughts quickly came to an end as he felt himself come to a sudden halt. Pain shot through every inch of his body. The falling has ceased, and with it, he felt a new sensation so long forgotten. His hands meekly began to grasp at his surroundings trying to deduce this almost foreign feeling. It was soft, yet cold. It melted in his warm grasp, water trickling out from his grip.

"Snow...?" he pondered to himself out loud. He grabbed a handful of snow, struggling to lift it. He brought his buried face out from the soft white to stare at the snow he held. It somehow felt heavy to him. The muscles in his body ached at the mere lifting of such light material. He was finally free, yet the very act of moving became so much more labored then he ever could have anticipated. He dropped the snow, his arm falling with a soft thud.

Laying in the snow, he turned his focus towards the view in front of him. Nothing. Nothing but an endless span of snow, the only exception being the few mountains in view, and from what he could tell, he was on a mountain himself. He felt his heart sink. His worst nightmare has come true... it was all gone, all of it, and he knew just who to blame. He weakly spat out the name of the one responsible with as much hatred he could muster, before he faded into unconsciousness.

"Celestia..."