Tears still trickled down my cheeks but I felt somewhat better now. If mother came with me, I would make sure she would be able to stay with me. I was strong enough to do so now, after all. But for the time being mother and I decided to enjoy what peaceful time remained to us. Mother said we had better be gone before the beginning of the next year, which would be 1007. We decided to go to the jungles south as a kind of vacation, until then. Many of them are still untraversed but mother knew her way around. She had been there before she had gotten married to father.

‘The Jungle is like a second home to me. Plants are very useful sometimes. Some of them have very unique effects. And a very few rare ones sometimes reveal things one absolutely wants or doesn’t want to know.’

I laughed at that last statement.

‘That was absolutely incomprehensible, mom.’

‘Well, it is, until you know a thing like this little flower here exists. Do you know the name of this plant?’

‘Plant of Truth. It causes user specified hallucinations. The definition came from a book father gave me. Strangely, the book was written in a weird language I could only understand when I scanned the book with magic. Resurrection magic, that is. As if the words were living things.’

‘Dark speech. Or so the ‘scholars’ call it. There are ponies like us, my love, but they live way north in the east of Griffonia. They speak that language and they have perfected the arts of necromancy and of the ‘forbidden’ magic in general. Regardless, even that book was not complete, at least in its definition of this particular plant. And this plant is exactly as I told you.’

‘How so?’

‘If in reality you were meant to be something completely different from what you are, something you would be disgusted to know you were supposed to be, would you want to have that information?’

‘I mean, I wouldn’t be that version of myself, so I suppose I wouldn’t mind.’

‘For normal creatures that answer is enough. You should be happy you are better than what you were, supposedly, destined to be. Now think of it another way. If your evil self managed to do better than you ever could, would you want to know that? Say your evil face, killed millions yet lead to the extinction of something even more wicked, which parallel routes would leave unscathed, would you want to know that? That your kindness will lead to the suffering of generations to come?’

I followed mother in silence. I had no idea how to respond. Suddenly, mother stopped and turned to me.

‘Remember, my daughter, Truth is like a goddess and the likes of which you cannot witness or pray to. To give yourself a whiff from a flower brings you no closer to any realization whatsoever. The ones who ever desire that are fools. Pathetic weaklings. They hallucinate and they think they see Truth! This flower should only be used as a verification of sorts. Namely, it verifies that one has reached Truth. For the creatures who will manage this, this flower has absolutely no effect whatsoever. A very long time ago, there were many creatures for whom this flower was useless. However, now, we are the only ones left, capable of achieving the realization of Truth. That is because a necromancer can be beyond life and death. I have never been able to reach that level, but I think you may be able to, sweetheart. And at that time, you will transcend the plane of life and death. And then this flower will mean nothing to you.’

‘Transcend?’

‘See it this way. All things that ‘are’, are so between life and death, no matter if they are items or ideas. A book, the body, friendship, love and so forth. They all have a limit between life and death. A book can burn. The body can decay and perish. Friendship or Love only exists as long as there are creatures to experience them. But what about something beyond this limit? Even the immortal beings like the gods, for example Boreas in Griffonia, are stated within life and death. But a necromancer can bring all things dead back to life, both physically and spiritually. Thus, a necromancer can be somewhere that is not on that plane of life and death. Somewhere, where those two words have no meaning at all. However, to achieve that a necromancer must learn how to resurrect souls first, a level of expertise unattained for decades. But it is possible.’

‘But when I was young you told me one could not hope to resurrect a soul.’

Mother’s eyes, at that time, were glittering with excitement.

‘Everything comes at its own time. Then you could barely cast resurrection spells and now you know basic and advanced ones. A necromancer can, if granted enough training, resurrect a soul, as well as a body as its host. Of course, enough training doesn’t even cut it. Resurrecting a soul is nearly to completely impossible. So much so, that the ability to destroy a soul is something completely impossible to obtain.’

I tilted my head to the side, rummaging, inside my head, through my own knowledge on the subject.

‘First, as for the theory that explains the existence of the body as a ‘trap’ for the soul, I have also read that one from the writings of a philosopher from Bakara, whose name I do not recall. I really have my doubts about it. I mean, he claims that a creature, once it gathers all of the possible available knowledge, will become some kind of supreme being, which sounds very unreal.’

‘Albeit true. All beings have a physical, pragmatic part, the body and a metaphysical part, the soul. Since the physical part can be resurrected or recreated, I don’t think there is any reason to doubt the possibility of doing the same for the meta-physical part.’

‘I understand that and that’s why I, partly, can see such a thing happening. As for not being able to destroy a soul, while I do not have any knowledge of any creatures having such abilities from my books, I know that according to those Dark speech books the Wen- ‘

‘Do not say that word! Not while you still don’t know it!’

I was slightly taken aback by the sudden exclamation.

‘Some things are too dangerous to be said by those who do not know them yet. You must not speak the name of the beings of no-being. After all, and while I cannot prove it, all the things in the world that are but shouldn’t, are of their making. That’s why, those who will come close to revealing the Truth, will be struck down by them. Because in Truth those creatures do not exist. When that is found their meddling will finally cease.’

I shook my head.

‘I do not think it is possible to ever realize Truth in one lifetime. Just looks very unlikely, mother.’

‘What if you could live multiple lifetimes? And what if you could tell the possibilities from other similar realities to yours?’

‘This just sounds plain impossible.’

‘It is possible though. A necromancer that is a harvester of souls can see those alternate realities through those souls. I do not know exactly how that will be done, but I think it is by all means feasible.’

I scratched my head. This kind of philosophical conversation was to my liking but this time it was too complicated, even for myself to comprehend. In the meantime, we had begun walking again.

‘If one is completely different in other realities, which is the one that matters? Whether one makes friends, loves, hates, learns, fights and so forth, seems so redundant if one does the opposite actions in another reality.’

‘Are you worried what you do or feel matters little?’

‘In a way, yes, at least in the context of what we said prior.’

‘For what it is worth, yes, all those things are real, Rosa. The issue lies within the realization that they are not the only possible reality.’

‘If it is so and if I am really meant to learn how to ‘harvest souls’, then I really have a lot more to study from the looks of it. I just want you to be with me, mother.’

‘I made a promise and I always try to keep my promises, at least those made to my sweet little daughter.’

I smiled broadly and with the conversation and all that we reached back to the lodge we were renting. It was a beautiful place. The jungle on the south side and the ocean between Equus and Griffonia to the east. Mother sat on the porch up front and the picture with her and the sea in the background was truly majestic. I couldn’t even compete with the elegance she possessed. Her black hair flying in the breeze. And I thought of all the things, which I loved and counted those I had to leave behind me to achieve my goals and the weight of the whole thing fell on me. Yet, mother believed in me so it was possible. Sometimes, I think, I want none of this. No powers, no knowledge, nothing special. If I was born a normal pony, I would live out my days knowing nothing of the cruelty of my world, of this here reality. I would just stare at the scenery. Think of the world as all ponies do. It will never end. I would make a lot of memories with my family and friends and then cherish those till I died. Simple as that. However, even if I wanted to do so now, I wouldn’t be able to. Just the thought that maybe the entirety of what I know and what others know, could very much be a delusion, doesn’t let me put my mind at ease. I feel, as if I have to know more, to uncover more and to live till I can find the single indivisible Truth and make it my own.

‘Eeek!’ I fell on my rump, startled as a hoof waved in front of my face.

‘You were daydreaming’

I giggled.

‘I suppose I was off in my own world.’

Mother paused for a second, then appeared to have remembered and laughed.

‘Well, before you drift into your own world again, want me to tell you a story?’

‘If it is not something I have already heard of, then sure.’

‘To be honest, I think you know much more than I do at this point so I hope I meet your expectations.’

I went and lay next to her facing the crystal water that had started to glow under the dawning sun.

‘Once upon a very long time ago, there was an Empire called cursed and wicked. It was the Empire of Undeath. The lands of the Empire stretched from East to West in the North of Griffonia and they were always described as being dark and agonizing. The Empire fielded massive armies of undead, resurrected creatures and was nearly impossible to defeat, as it also possessed the most knowledge at the time. Outside of the Empire, the griffons of Griffonia, which would come from now long forgotten kingdoms and duchies, feared the Empire. They had come to believe that the Empire’s ‘darkness’ was evil. That it was a desolate wasteland, where creatures found nothing more than death. And so, they put aside their differences and formed a massive coalition and with faith in Boreas struck the Empire and destroyed it, giving over its heartland to a holy order named after the god Arcturius.’

‘Wait, that’s it? That was very underwhelming!’

Mother poked my nose.

‘Don’t be hasty. That’s just the official story. The one that griffons scare their kids with. However, it is also a massive hoax. There is a reason the Empire was called Empire of Undeath. The Empire was a project. A plan to rid the world of death. The perception of darkness was no more but an illusion. And yes, resurrected creatures walked the land. But those were creatures with souls, who could live, love, befriend and feel or think as they liked. You see, the Empire of Undeath had managed what is now lost in history and in the bloodlines of the necromancers scattered all over Equus and Griffonia: the resurrection of souls and most likely, also the construction of souls. Furthermore, the Empire most likely was the last ‘natural’ society, meaning that it was inhabited by creatures of all kinds without the differences between those creatures being recognized as differences. Because a pony and a griffon, or a dog, or a bear or a penguin, they look different in appearance but their essence, their soul, is made of the same material. The inhabitants of the Empire of Undeath must have been the last nation to ever be able to be like that, hence why the history of a lot of creatures is stated after the destruction of the Empire. This was because the difference in appearance is not ‘of essence’ it is ‘of perception’. Because even in societies where more than one species co-exist as equals, they recognize themselves as separate species. In the Empire there was no such thing. All creatures were creatures. The words ‘pony’ or ‘griffon’ existed only outside of the Empire. Of course, biological differences were recognizable, but they, specifically, did not translate to any significant differences in conscience. And all that because the Empire was reigned by Truth. No single government or god or king ruled it. Rather it was ruled by Truth herself, as she was the combination of all knowledge that has, is, was or could or could not be. In other words, the absolute being, and the only existence ever, to be able to be deemed as ‘absolute’. The Empire faced a major enemy though: the ‘creatures who shall not be named’. They were the manifestation of all that is evil, the banishment, the annihilation of knowledge. Truth is powerful as long as wisdom is abundant and created constantly. She withers away, when it is destroyed. When life is lost and the souls finally fade into insignificance, pieces of ‘being’, of the essence we are all made of, are lost. They still exist in Truth but they are unobtainable to the creatures of the world. The necromancers were there to prevent exactly that. The withering of the souls. They were tasked with bringing the souls back to life and preserving them until their resurrection would be possible. Thus, wisdom was recycled and maintained and the creatures knew more than they would ever be able to learn normally in one lifetime. This made the creatures come, day after day, closer to the unveiling of an escape from the plane of life and death. If there was no such limitation then the world would be finally complete and perfect. The ‘creatures that should not be named’ though knew that in such a world they would not exist. After all, their sole existence was a disturbance; nothing more than a hoax itself. In reality, there are no Wendigos, sweetheart.’

‘WHAT?! But what about all your theories and and…’

‘I never said they existed. The Wendigos are beings of no-being. Creations of the creatures themselves. Today we would deem this ‘Truth’ as paranoia but in reality, it is the opposite. It is the Wendigos that are unreal. We created their existence in our heads, simply because many of us were incapable of believing in Truth. Because it seemed to many of us, as something ridiculous to believe in. After all, no creature can learn everything in one lifetime, so Truth cannot really be explained rationally. It can only be believed in. That’s exactly why the coalition of the griffons destroyed the Empire. It was not because of any menacing dark power, like the Wendigos, or because the Empire was ‘evil’. It was instead because they could not believe in what the Empire had faith in. And since they could not believe nor explain it, they instead turned to hating it, despising it and wanting to terminate it. And so, they did. Then they claimed to have defeated evil, sorely because they could not understand what it was that they did.’

‘Mother, I am sorry but this makes absolutely no sense. If this is true then the Wendigos do not exist. Then why did you tell me before not to say their name?’

‘One must not spell the name of a Wendigo unless one knows that a Wendigo is nothing but an anomaly, lest one be led into believing one can kill off the Wendigos. The Wendigos were brought to be, as part of our unwillingness to believe in something greater, something so vast, that it was terrifying. And though the Wendigos did not exist before this doubt and fear were formed, they do now. The Wendigos still serve the same purpose. They stop the creatures from realizing Truth. And there are two meaningful ways to defeat the Wendigos. But I think you already know of them.’

‘I do? I don’t think I have ever read anything on the subject but I can try guessing. I suppose if Wendigos are a by-product of our fear of Truth and thus of our negativity, expressed via distrust, hate, fear, anger, regret, doubt and so forth, then if one were to kill all creatures one by one then the Wendigos unable to feed on that fear would eventually fade away into not-being just as they were supposed to be.’

‘That is the easy way out.’

‘Well, then if somehow we managed to convince every single being that they need to believe in the faith then- ‘

‘Wrong.’

‘What if we proved that the conflicts caused are not the making of nations themselves but monitored by the Wendigos?’

‘Still incorrect. You are thinking about the consequences, Rosa, not of the cause.’

I was running out of ideas at that point.

‘We should be teaching people that they should learn more and thus fear less, causing them to think and act in ways they previously had not imagined possible?’

‘Exactly! The problem of the beings of the current reality is that their ‘reality’ is already distorted so much, that the way the creatures think is corrupted at its core. It is what causes this never-ending continuum of strife, peace and then strife again, to persist. Equestria is a great example of this. Why do most ponies fear the thestrals and why do the thestrals fear other ponies? Mutual fear and distrust and nobody willing to end the circle, in fear of being fooled and cheated out of things they deem as precious. Same goes for all races of course.’

‘Maybe all things are relevant after all.’

‘Yes, all, save from Truth’

Mother kissed me on the cheek and then we went inside, cuddled a while and then fell asleep under the calming sound of the waves coming from the blue sea. And I remember how those days went on with such discussion or more light hearted conversation and that then, for the first time in a while, I felt at peace. But all things must end, and so at the end of the summer of 1006 we went back to our house to prepare for our departure which would come no later than a month afterwards. Mother formally resigned her job. Our old hosts were understanding of her decision, thankfully. After all, they too knew what was coming but they couldn’t abandon their pony tribe, so they had to stay. They wished us to find a happier, more stable life in Griffonia. Mother had planned for us to go to the River Federation, to the River Republic specifically. We had considered going to New Mareland but decided against it as it could lead to us being found in the exact same situation as before, especially if things went wrong in Equestria. On a Saturday night in March of 1007, we set out for Fillydelphia from where we would set out east. Specifically, on a boat of a smuggler of guns to ensure we would not be followed. Officially, we would not but between what’s official about the thestrals and those close to them and what isn’t, there is a huge difference. But our luck ran out. Near the docks a small gang of ponies was already waiting for us. They apparently didn’t know of the ship we were going to board but they were looking for the ‘writer of a bucking thestral newspaper’, as they said themselves, while searching around. With the ship in sight from behind a wall and both of us breathing heavily from running from one hiding spot to the next, mother turned to me.

‘There’s a bunch of them out there. We are not going to make it…’

When she looked at me, she could tell I was absolutely terrified. The moment we would go out in the open we would be seen and swarmed by the angry mob, no doubt about it.

‘Okay, I will set up a smokescreen and that should buy us enough time to get on the ship, … I think.’

Then her horn started glowing red and mist from the sea started filling out the dockyard.

‘Now.’

We ran from the top of the dock towards the end of it where the ship was, but at around the middle of the dock we were spotted. ‘That’s her! That bucking unicorn that’s with the thestrals! Get her!’

Soon many ponies from the gang were shooting towards us with pistols and the like but within the mist they were very inaccurate. However, the mist grew lighter and we could now be seen. Mother made a shield out of energy and then as we were right in front of the ship spoke to me one last time.

‘Sweetheart, I love you from the bottom of my heart. I lost much to make sure you are safe and so that you could learn from me as much as I could teach. You have a very bright future ahead of you and you will become great and strong. But that’s a path you will have to walk alone. I am very-’

Tears streamed down her eyes.

‘Very sorry I couldn’t come with you and that I have to break my promise, but just as your father did, so must I. I love you, sweetheart!’

Before I could say a thing, mother kicked me and I fell inside the low side of the boat. I went to the edge of the boat, wanting to jump back on shore and save her.

‘Mother, no!’

Author's Note

Special Thanks to:
Amadoow
Scribbly
For the syntactical, contextual and grammatical corrections for chapter 1 I have to thank Scribbly and my good friend Amadoow, without the help of whom I wouldn't have been able to publish this, as it was riddled with such errors prior to its release.