My name is all I remember, save for haunting and fleeting dreams that seem to run away the moment I grasp them, like eels within the radiated water of the Equestrian wasteland. Memories seem to be the basis to all people around here, and perhaps the entire wasteland, be it those memories dragging the holder down, or keeping them going. I remember some history I suppose, I remember that a war had raged an extremely long time ago, between ponies and zebras. But nothing else. My name is True Key, and this is my story.