//------------------------------//
// Day 2 
// Story: Burning Memories 
// by Feurisson 
//------------------------------//

I resisted being waken up several times, preferring the sweet silence and peaceful emptiness of the oblivion of sleep far to the feeling of burning down of my mind I had gone through earlier on, a hellish feeling of going insane only cut short by the merciful blacking out. 

But finally I knew, while sighing internally, that I had to open my eyes, even if only to let the poor woman – mare, I guess worry anymore and show that I'm still alive and conscious, even if seems like this is only barely the case. Aside from that, the shaking made it impossible to rest anyway.

So I did, and immediately regretted doing it too quickly, for I still wasn't prepared for the sight of two seemingly way too large heads being mere inches from me. Huge eyes were probing me, and words that were probably supposed to be comforting, or asking how I'm doing seemed to come to my way. I was too exhausted to pay any attention to it. 

Their now notably upward curved mouths were almost touching mine. Seriously, it's as if the concept of personal space stops existing as soon as you're in a hospital, or wherever I was. I couldn't remember, and what little I did I didn't trust anymore. 

I felt like there wasn't at the moment anything I could trust, not even myself. Especially not myself. Not just my memories, I still wasn't sure how what I was seeing, hearing and feeling in my fin-, ugh, hooves, on my face and all over my body could possibly be real, and not be a freaky dream or something. I've had them before, you're always convinced they're real before you wake up, dumbfounded. A way to tell whether you was in was to watch out for inconsistencies, like clocks not matching up or randomly jumping from one time to another, or other physical impossibilities. 

Though who knows for how long I was out? It could have been for minutes, hours or even a day. Looking at the clock would tell me nothing now about that. It's so frustrating, and at the same time, so eerily chilling, not to know where you are, who you are and if what you're experiencing is even real. 

Maybe I'd already lost my mind and was going through an episode of psychosis? But then, and maybe I was just thinking this to reassure me at least a bit, hardly knowing anything about what such episodes were supposed to be like, how could I be able to reflect on myself?

Hey, a voice inside me seemed to suddenly say, why not ask those two next to you?

At first I scoffed at the thought, asking someone whether they were real? Just in case I'd like to give a better impression than that, lest I also get some straitjacket put on or who knows what. 

Not that, you doofus. Ask them what happened and why you're here. They look like they're concerned about you and your well-being, they'll surely give you some answers at least.

That actually doesn't sound too stupid. Might even be the best thing I could do in this situation. Both of them had in the meantime shifted their attention away from me, and were busy talking with each other. I opened my mouth to speak, but somehow seemed unable to produce any sound, only some puffing and panting, as if I was terribly hoarse.  

Still, this seemed to have been noticed what seemed to be the doctor, another vaguely equine-shaped creature, this time in a pale yellowish color, and the gray nurse. They turned to me again, and the former started to speak, but I struggled to make out the words.

“… doing? … hope … better”

Better? Well, my racing thoughts had at least turned into a less bothering background noise by now, laying like a thick layer of fog on my mind. Other than that, well, even though I feel worse than earlier, I guess stopping trying to ignore what has been happening is some sign of progress, too.  

“… need to . … this, ...'s good and … “

The nurse put a wooden rest for the bowl on my bed in front of me. I was still laying on my back, and had at first no idea how to eat it, but I think I heard her, barely audibly, telling me to lift it with my upper appendages to my mouth. It was awkward, but in the end I managed to not spill too much on myself or the blanket, which, considering how delicious this vegetable soup turned out to be, would have lamentable. Or maybe it was nice to finally come across something that was nourishing and didn't make my mind race like a forest river after heavy rain.  

“Thanks”  I finally managed to blurt out after finishing.  

Before I could say anything else, the doctor in yellow approached me again. With my hunger, that I hadn't been aware of earlier, now satiated and my mind somewhat calmer, it seems like my sensitive, and ugh, moving ears were able to pick up more words, too. They instinctively turned towards him.

“…an see that the soup did you do some good. You seemed to really need it. Now, you might be momentarily disoriented and wonder where you are.  

Rest assured, you're safe here and nothing bad can happen to you here. This is the “”, a sanatorium and healing place for all equines in need for some peace and rest.  

I know you will probably have a lot of questions, but you still need to regain your energy before you are able to take in everything. “

In fact, my mind was still so foggy that despite my nagging confusion and curiosity I decided to agree with him, and not argue about it. He was right, after all. Even though I must have slept for a long time, or been in a coma or what not, I need some time to rest from what definitely was the most stressful waking up I had ever experienced.  

It had felt like gently floating on the sea towards to the coast only to be tossed against some beach rocks the moment I opened my eyes.

Yet I didn't want to sleep now, maybe because I had just had an involuntarily nap some minutes ago.  My look turned to a book on my nightstand, standing to the right side of me. I tried to reach out to it, but it felt awkward doing that with no fingers, and so I only managed a clumsy attempt that resulted in the rather large tome falling to the ground in a large thud.

This drew the attention of nurse, who simply asked:

“Do you want me to give it to you? I'm not sure if you're rested enough to read much yet, but maybe it can help you calm down a bit. You seemed rather upset earlier, almost like you were seeing a ghost from a nightmare you had still in front of you. Either way, it must have terrified you a lot.”

She picked it up with a blaze from her horn and continued:

“Your sister told me it's your favorite book, and that you liked to read it over and over again, each time apparently getting so wrapped up in its world that you were barely approachable.”

She chuckled. The book gravitated in a bright aura towards me, landing on the blanket directly before my … er, muzzle, I guess.  

“Here it is. 'Lady of the Necklaces'. A fantasy classic, isn't it? Tyniers, wizards, titans, brokenbolts, heyoumuhns and so many other beings. It always sounded very interesting to me, but the sheer length of it has always made me put it off for later.”

I looked at her slightly skeptically, and then at the simple, but nonetheless rather fancy cover. It only had the title in golden letters on it, surrounded by a rectangle stretching across almost all of the front with a similar color, on a forest green background.

It's so worth it, though. I never regretted a single second spent with the book. I thought, and instantly wondered where that had come from. 

I couldn't actually recall spending any time with this book at all, yet it still did somehow feel very familiar and I couldn't think of anything else that would explain that stray thought. Maybe it was some kind of suppressed memory? But why would I suppress something that seemed like such a happy time?

I was interrupted in my ruminations when the nurse continued:  

“I heard they were making a new play based on it, too.”

The book is so much better, though. I saw the old play and it didn't do any of the characters justice and all of the story was so terribly rushed.

… There, another one of these memories, it seems. Maybe reading the book will help me make sense of everything, and myself, too. In any case it seemed to have a very calming on me. For a moment, all of my anxiety, confusion, and pain were as if vanished, and I actually felt a bit relaxed, even if still tense.  

With a reminder to get some proper sleep later on, I was now left alone.

Now that there was silence in the room again, aside from the ticking of the clock, I could hear birds singing outside again. It was beautiful, pure and melodious, signaling that it was actually much too nice of a day to spend it inside. But I still felt weak, and wasn't sure if I even could make it outside even if I wanted to. Almost as if I hadn't really walked much in who knows how long, and at the moment walking on four legs seemed almost frighteningly complicated, not to mention weirdly alien. Also, the bed was comfortable and I had a book to read.

With some difficulty I managed to crack it open, and carefully turned the pages to chapter one.

“The continent is divided into seven parts, divided by mountains, rivers and heard fought-for land borders going through forests and open fields. … “	

Several hours later, I finally managed to put it down and go to sleep.