//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 
// Story: The Elements of Eternity 
// by Aura Burst 
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	My slumber was not a peaceful one. I found myself plagued by nightmares inconsistent with experience. I explored places I had not seen and confronted ponies I had never met, and yet they all seemed so familiar. I found myself wandering amongst disconnected and distorted scenes of a life that could not possibly have been my own. Every moment was different almost entirely from the next, lacking any recognizable continuity, save for one similar aspect that seemed to remain a constant. Sometimes it was a subtle detail. Sometimes it was an overpowering nightmare. Regardless, though, of the form it embodied, it became apparent that the darkness was a clear theme, no matter what the context.

Clarity and length increased considerably with each passing dream, as though my mind was using a trial-and-error approach to deliver the visions in a format that I could understand, until finally I found myself suddenly dropped into what couldn’t be anything less than reality. An impossibly realistic city was collapsing around me. The air itself shook as fire exploded in every street and buildings shattered. Giants grappled with one another, and magical bolts whizzed by as soldiers on the ground exchanged fire. Winged silhouettes flew through the skies at impossible speeds. The world was in chaos, until everything ended in an instant.

The air flashed white, momentarily blinding me. As my vision returned, I saw the most beautiful, most magnificent, and most terrifying thing that could possibly exist, though at the time, I had no recollection of why I felt this way. A full-spectrum cloud of chromatic smoke and fire rose high into the sky, sending shockwaves in all directions that obliterated any structure that hadn’t already been destroyed by the seemingly indiscriminate combat from before. And then, I was overtaken by the blast.

*		*		*		*

My whole body tensed as I opened my eyes to the blinding light of the sun. In that moment, I could have sworn that it had deliberately adjusted it’s journey across the sky in order to shine into my eyes through the only hole in the canopy large enough to reveal it entirely. I was irritable, still unable to shake off the “achy-all-over” feeling of awakening too quickly from a horrific nightmare. Every muscle was stiff, but not in the same way as they had been before. My first awakening had felt as though I had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position and remained that way for at least a full night. This felt like my brain wasn’t correctly connected to my nerves.

I awkwardly managed to position myself upright on all four hooves, but I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to remain standing for any substantial amount of time. Luckily, coordination returned faster than I had expected. I carefully paced about, stretching each leg individually and making sure my body was functioning properly before moving on to focus on other subjects.

Judging by the distance the sun had traveled, I couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. Whereas it had been approximately noon when I first discovered the waterfall, now it appeared to be approaching the early evening. I still had quite a bit of time remaining until nightfall, but it occurred to me that it’d be wise to find some form of shelter sooner, rather than later. I admired the formation of the stone pool for a moment more before deciding to follow the river downstream. Common sense told me that if civilization was anywhere, it would be next to a water source. Doubly so for such a particularly clean water source as this one. At this point, I’d have settled for encountering the village I’d escaped from the previous night (or however much time had passed).

As I progressed, the forest eventually began to thin out, which was a welcome change. Despite the peculiar lack of darkness even below the trees, it was still nice to be able to look up at the sky from time to time. Maybe that was just a subconscious desire that came with being a pegasus. As the thought crossed my mind, I considered attempting flight once more, but then passed it off as something to save for when I wasn’t in a potentially life-threatening situation, despite the predominant calm feeling of the forest. I had to constantly remind myself that I had no food and no shelter.

I stopped, noticing that the flow of water seemed to be gaining momentum. It was time to be cautious for a moment. I didn’t think a third skydive would end as harmlessly as the other two. Even if it did, I didn’t have time for the nap that would follow, based on the established pattern. I carefully traveled along the edge of the river, making certain to check and recheck the blind side of any foliage that I encountered.

I heard the next waterfall long before I actually saw it. My caution seemed to have been in vain, though, as there was an extremely apparent edge where the ground abruptly ended in the distance, visible from at least fifty meters away, though it should be noted that I give no guarantee as to the accuracy of my judgement of distances. It certainly didn’t sneak up on me, though.

I was slightly on-edge (snicker) as I approached. At this height, the distance I could see was simply staggering. Consequently, if there was nothing but more forest as far as the eye could see, things could get problematic. Finally, I reached the edge of the cliff and scanned the landscape.

Directly ahead, which was in the direction of the setting sun (I assumed west. Don’t ask me how I knew that.), a magnificent mountain range spanned the entire view distance from left to right, like a giant barrier against whatever was on the other side. The forest continued across the land below, right up to the edge of the mountains, though it was significantly less dense than it had been so far. To the north, there was another series of mountains, though more varied in size and shape than those to the west. To the south, the forest eventually ended, and rolling plains stretched the rest of the way into the horizon.

I followed the river with my eyes, from the base of the falls below, carefully tracking the snaking path it took to the north, through a massive field, and back into the forest. And then, my heart skipped a beat as I saw the tiniest of clearings by the river’s edge. In the center of the clearing was a wooden structure that, while I couldn’t tell exactly what it was at such a vast distance, was unmistakably a house, or barn, or something similar. Nearby, rooftops that were nearly invisible peaked through the treetops. Oddly enough, nothing even resembling a road connected with this cluster of houses on any side, though I dismissed this as simply meaning that it was not the village where I encountered the darkness, which was a positive sign. 

I grinned widely, and began searching a little too enthusiastically for a safe way down the side of the mountain I was on. Looking back, I could see the first cliff I’d fallen from, and it coincidentally seemed to be roughly the same height. I wondered if, going in the other direction, I would have came across another plateau where the entire world seemed to have simply moved up a level, and how many subsequent levels there would be. The area definitely had interesting formations of land, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom how it formed that way, unless the entire world I had so far come to know was nothing more than a staircase for some much larger form of life.

Finally, I settled on a set of “platforms”, where each was a couple of meters’ drop from the one previous, all the way down to the bottom. It was almost too convenient, but I ultimately decided that of the strange things I’d seen so far, this was of lesser interest. Before I once again descended below the treetops, I made a mental note of the exact direction of the village. Following the river all the way north and back again would be tedious and a waste of time, but I didn’t want to get lost again because of an easily avoidable error.

A hop, a skip, and a jump later, I found myself on flat ground once again, listening to the roar of the waterfall and taking comfort in the refreshing mist that resulted. I headed in the direction of the village at a brisk pace, following the river for the time being and making sure to take another quick drink while I still had the opportunity. Before long, I had to bid farewell to the peaceful and familiar sound of the river at my side. In the absence of company, I found myself feeling lonely after growing accustomed to the sound. I could already see that I was going to have to work on avoiding attachment to nonliving things, especially features of the landscape. At least for the moment, I had the excuse that there was nothing else to grow attached to.

Quiet. That’s the only word I have to describe the following hour. It was unnervingly quiet. Occasionally, a bird would chirp or a breeze would whisper past. But for the most part, the lack of ambient noise was enough to drive a pony crazy. I was plagued by a slight ring in my ears that resulted from my brain trying to make sense of the absence of sound. I finally settled for humming tunelessly to myself. I didn’t know any songs, but it was better than silence.

The silence only amplified what was to come. There was a rustling in the bushes. The slight sound of leaves being stepped on by another creature. Previously, I would have thought it was just some small animal going about it’s business. But with the silence came paranoia, and I instantly found myself on guard against the unknown source of the noise.

On guard? Could I defend myself if attacked? Did I have the ability to fight at all? I had no idea. But I stood at attention, wings flared in an instinctive attempt at intimidation and head slightly lowered in some sort of improvised fighting stance, as I searched for whatever I was to encounter. It had come from almost directly ahead, but was now dead still. I could still sense it’s presence, though. It was almost as though I could feel a difference in the air that gave away its location. My locating ability was spot on when it revealed itself from exactly where I had sensed it.

A pony. A stallion, specifically. His hair was sandy brown, and his mane and tail were more of a chocolate color. His eyes matched perfectly, landing about halfway in between the two shades of brown previously mentioned. He was slightly shorter than me, and looked to be a year or so younger. That is, younger than what I assumed to be my age, since that was also in the massive list of mysteries that was continuously increasing without any sign of slowing down.

One thing that bothered me, however, was his lack of a cutie mark. He seemed much too old. I had no idea why this seemed weird to me, nor why I had one to begin with. Maybe I was the odd-one-out. I scrutinized his appearance for slightly longer than I should have, however, as he finally broke the silence between us.

“Hello.” It was a simple word. So simple, in fact, that it caught me completely off guard. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just stared silently back, likely looking outwardly distraught, judging by the expression he reacted with. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Well, that seemed straightforward enough. I could talk, right? Of course. I’d done it before. Don’t be stupid. I’d become such good friends with the river in such a short time, I figured I’d be a social butterfly. “I... I’m not really from around here.”

“Wow. I’ve never met anyone from outside of the village before. Come to think of it, it never really occurred to me that there were other ponies outside of the village. Where are you from?” He didn’t miss a beat. I supposed that parents didn’t teach their children anything regarding talking with strangers when they didn’t expect there to be any strangers. I was taken aback by how easily he was able to converse with me, when I found it so exceedingly difficult.

“I don’t really... Well, I’m not... I don’t...” I struggled to formulate a coherent sentence. I hadn’t counted on being completely unable to carry on a discussion. I should have prepared for meeting new ponies.

“You don’t....?” he urged. He could clearly see that I was having issues, and he was being extraordinarily patient with my nonsensical stuttering.

“Do you have any food?” I blurted out, then recoiled. I could feel myself blushing, but my subconscious was clearly more worried about keeping me from starving than making a good first impression on the locals. “I’m sorry. That was a weird thing to say. It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to anypony.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, smiling slightly. I saw that one coming, though I’d hoped it wouldn’t.

“I don’t... I don’t know, actually. Nor do I know where I’m from.” While I wasn’t very articulate with my words, I managed to get them out into the open. “I’ve actually been wandering in the forest for about a day now.”

The pony frowned, then approached me and sat down on his haunches nearby. I sat down in front of him without thinking about it. “That’s a little odd. What were you doing before you were wandering in the forest?”

“Running from something in another town. Before that, I can’t recall.”

“Hmm... Well, if you’d like to come to our village, maybe the elder knows something about your memory loss. And we can scrounge up something for you to eat while we’re at it, if you’d like.” With that last statement, he winked. I wasn’t sure if it was some form of flirting, or if it was just humorous to him because of the manner in which I’d asked about food. The prospect of eating, though, sealed the deal for me before I even had time to think about it. But I had to ask something, first.

“What’s your name?” I quietly asked. It seemed rude to ask his name without giving him my own, but I had an excuse.

“Morning Dew.” He smiled again. “And don’t worry. If we can’t figure out your name right away, we’ll just have to come up with something good to call you in the meantime.”

I don’t know if it was just the feeling of being around somepony else. Maybe he was just a particularly kind and friendly pony. But I felt comfortable for the first time I could remember. Continued loneliness only brings with it a growing sense of urgency and paranoia. Combine that with severe amnesia, and the effect is compounded. I’ll never be able to adequately explain the relief I felt in that moment, just before the two of us headed off in the direction of his village. If only the feeling could have lasted. Of course I wouldn’t be that fortunate.

“Does your village have a name?”

“Nopony ever uses the name, but it’s officially named Eternal Sky.”

That was a name that would always find it’s way back to me in my adventures, no matter how far I traveled.