//------------------------------// // Chapter XVI // Story: The Forgotten: Friends // by Jatheus //------------------------------// Mestra Amymone sat on a stone bench in the town graveyard. Slushy old snow gradually melted, a harbinger of the end of the season and much anticipated ‘winter wrap up’, for which the entire town was in preparation. The cold seemed to have lost its teeth; the mare loosened her scarf. The frigid granite on which the mare sat seemed appropriate. There was a singularly solemn feeling, not unlike where she’d buried her magister when the time had come. Going there, to that resting place, made Mestra feel a little closer to her mentor. Memories became vivid, and she could almost hear his voice as she drew a book from her new saddle bags. Her glowing butterflies danced around the cover, eventually darting off to play in the brilliant sunshine that ignited snow covered tombstones in its warmth. The mare opened the journal to a marked page which she had read many times, but it always gave her comfort, renewed her focus, to see the passage again. Her eyes scanned the final message her magister had written, “Mestra, it is my hope that you will find this after I am gone. The things I have been teaching you were to prepare you for the greatest adventure that could lie ahead: your life....” “I don’t know your path forward. But consider one thing. Before you became forgotten, you were somepony else. You had family, friends, an entire other life before you met me. Clearly it was a life that had some great sorrows, but perhaps there was love there as well. You may have family that misses you as you now miss me....” “Whatever you choose, do an old stallion proud, and remember the things that I taught you. Remember the good times. Remember the sad times. Unpleasant though they are, you can learn so much from them that they are an invaluable source of wisdom. You can overcome because you are strong. Farewell, Mestra Amymone, in all your journeys. Magister Pyxidis.” Sorrow filled the mare’s eyes as she remembered the time she’d spent in that cabin with the old unicorn. She ached to return there, but felt herself sigh at the realization of such folly. It wasn’t the cabin or the woods that she missed. That for which she languished could no longer be found. Hearing the crunching of snow, Mestra was drawn from her reverie and looked up to see Misty approaching. “Hello,” the elder mare greeted warmly. “Hi.” “Enjoying the sunshine?” “Ah.” “I see. I am heading to the market to pick up a few things. I could use your help and certainly wouldn’t mind the company, if you’re not busy, that is.” Mestra stood, replacing the book into her bag, “I am not. I will come shopping.” Misty looked somberly past the forgotten mare across the graves. With something that passed for a smile, she turned and began walking toward town. Mestra followed. They strode in silence until they had left the graveyard. “I see you still like to visit the cemetery,” Misty spoke idly. “Ah.” It took Mestra a moment to remember the lessons which Stormy had given her on ‘small talk’. “I like the s... the quiet.” Misty nodded, humming to herself, “It always feels lonely to me, and sad.” “Ah,” the mare replied, “That is when I remember Magister the best.” A pained smile crossed Misty’s muzzle, “I understand.” They continued walking as a silence fell between the pair, the steady rhythm of their hoofbeats notwithstanding. Misty’s every step seemed heavy and deliberate. At the market, the older mare seemed to become more her usual self as they picked out choice shallots, chard, peas, and asparagus. They also picked up flour and a few essential toiletries. Once loaded, the two made their course toward the house. Misty seemed to grow contemplative again before eventually breaking the quiet. “Would I be correct in assuming that your plans have not changed?” Mestra nodded. She wasn’t entirely certain as to why, but thoughts of the future had been making her sad of late. “I will leave tomorrow.” “To continue your search?” “Ah.” The elder mare’s gaze dropped to her front hooves as they plodded along. Her pace slowed as they approached the bridge. Mestra also curbed her speed, the two of them coming to a stand-still atop the arch that spanned the little creek. The wind had a bit more potency up there, though it still had little bite. The mare took in the town in which she’d now lived for nearly as long as she’d lived with her magister in the little cottage in the woods. The quaint little houses seemed so much more welcoming and familiar than they had that first day in the thunderstorm. The golden rays of the sun lit Misty’s face and glinted off of her lavender eyes, “I don’t want you to go.” Mestra felt somewhat surprised by the declaration but didn’t know what to say. Her butterflies danced through the air about Misty. “I would never have guessed a year ago that your coming would have affected me... affected us so. We were struggling just to keep ourselves fed; I wasn’t sure we’d be able to help you, whether we wanted to or not. And Stormy... I’ve seen such a change in her. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have her back.” Mestra responded thoughtfully, “I am glad. My search is not done. I may have family. They might miss me.” Misty took a deep breath, wiping moisture from her eyes, “But what if it was all sadness. You told me that’s how you lost your memories. The butterflies took you to that place where sorrow is forgotten. Did you ever think that maybe your life from back then was so sad that you’re better off not knowing?” It was a troubling possibility, but one that Mestra knew she would have to confront because more lives were in consideration than hers. “I may have been sad. My family may be sad now. They might look for me. I need to find them.” Misty redoubled her attack, “You could spend years trying to find friends or family that may not even care that you’re gone, but think of what you’ve already built here. If you go, if you leave Hollow Shades, Stormy and I will miss you, and I doubt we’re the only ones.” Mestra felt her brow furrow. She hadn’t considered the impact on the new friends she’d made. It was certainly an unintended complication. She wished her magister were there to give her proper advice on how to proceed. She watched her butterflies as they joyously flitted about. The words from her Magister’s journal stayed at the forefront of her mind and helped form her reply. “I must know if they are out there,” she finally said. Misty nodded, a single tear escaping before she wiped her eyes. She took a breath and started walking again. As they reached the bottom of the bridge, the elder made a final statement. “I understand that you need to do this. I support you, but just remember that if you’re ever in the area, you’re always welcome at our home.” “Ah,” Mestra felt quite warmed by the sentiment, “thank you!” They walked back to the house in silence, and the forgotten mare put her rudimentary culinary skills to good use, assisting Misty in the preparation of dinner. A hearty salad with spinach and pecans served as the main course with fresh garlic bread to go alongside it. Baked cinnamon apples rounded out the meal as dessert. The three also enjoyed their fellowship and warm conversation. All too soon, it was time for bed, and Mestra found herself packing her saddle bags for the coming journey the next morning. She knew what needed to be stowed within, but found herself moving at a snail’s pace. Her butterflies danced about cheerfully in spite of the sullenness she felt inside. Stormy entered the room, her toothbrush hanging from her mouth. She grabbed a brush for her mane from the dresser, awkwardly tucking it in one leg and walking back out again on the other three. Redoubling her efforts, the forgotten mare was able to make a final push. By the time Stormy returned from her evening toilet rituals, Mestra had double-checked her supplies. She was packed and ready. All that remained was to get some sleep. Stormy threw herself into the bed and shut her eyes. The forgotten mare turned out the light and delicately walked through the darkness, sliding under the covers near her friend. Mestra lay there for some time in thought. She had initially tried to sleep, but found herself wide awake, just counting the hours until she had to set off on her own once again. Her butterflies were resting on her new straw hat, their glow seeming dimmer while they slept, though still bright in the darkness. “Mestra,” came a whisper, “are you awake?” Without turning or moving, she replied, “Ah.” “Big day tomorrow, huh?” “Big day,” the mare repeated absently. “I just wanted to say that I’m really excited for you. I know you’re nervous, but just think of all the new ponies you’ll get to meet, and the new places you’ll get to see...” “Stormy want... wants to travel.” “You know I do. Someday I will.” “Someday.” “Someday, you’ll find your family too.” Mestra rolled over and gazed at the blackness, just able to make out the silhouette of her friend in the dark and the reflection of the butterflies glinting off of her eyes. “The way you went through all of Hollow Shades, I have no doubt, Mestra, with that kind of determination, you will find them.” It was an encouraging thought. Mestra could only wonder whether the next few towns would take as long to get through, if Hollow Shades were only a small one as many of its inhabitants had often said. But, if she didn’t use up time in schooling and only stuck to taking what jobs she needed to sustain herself and devoted the rest of her time to the search, her speed would no doubt increase. “Also,” Stormy continued her hushed tone, “I’m really going to miss you.” Mestra didn’t reply, but she felt a shrinking in the wellspring of her emotions as her eyes began to water. “Getting to know you has been so much fun, and nopony is as surprised about that as I am. You’re just... you’re an amazing pony. I wish I could go with you.” “I...” there was a catch in Mestra’s voice, preventing her from speaking. The tears erupted from her eyes like a spring rain shower. Stormy reached out, pulling Mestra close in an embrace. Mestra let her emotions flow for a time, Stormy patting her back as she held her there. The closeness was comforting. Mestra didn’t want to be alone. The wish she had made on her birthday, Stormy had just spoken it aloud, even though Mestra had told nopony. She hoped that was a good omen, that perhaps it would come true, in spite of having been told that wishing on birthday candles wasn’t real magic. It seemed the truth of the matter was that the forgotten mare would be alone, and soon. Mestra felt sad at the prospect of leaving her new friends behind, almost as sad as when her magister had died. Misty and Miss Acumen, even Burble had tried to convince her to stay. Stormy was supportive, but clearly saddened as well. The forgotten mare was resolved; she would take the next step forward. Whatever adventures lay ahead, Hollow Shades would always hold a special place in Mestra Amymone’s heart.