Occhiolism.
It wasn’t a real word, per se—it wasn’t even in the dictionary. Mayhaps it had been wrought from the wistful fantasy of a star-struck lover reminiscing of his lost other; words often came that way, through unknown means. It was an obscure term; he had never heard anypony mention it to him before. Perhaps it didn’t deserve his attention.
Feather, nonetheless, fancied its use. Occhiolism: the awareness of how small one’s perspective was in the bigger picture. No matter how grand, how all-knowing, how good, how bad, how strong, how weak, how unfathomable one’s life may be, the individual was forever stuck in their perspective and their perspective only.
It somehow made things more lonely. Everything was small. Everything that ever was, is, and will be, ought meet the same fate: a disappearance, the apotheosis to mere ghosts intangible. Feather knew that even the deities of religion die, falling into the obscurity of conspiracies and fairy tales.
Fairy tales. There’s something about fairy tales that harkened to ponies of young and old, a distant cry that shared with it the lessons of other lifetimes. They talked about distant lands, dragons and damsels, stories of love that went beyond imagination itself. He wondered what it would be like to be in a fairy tale. Was he in his own legend, and was he the knight that would save his damsel in distress?
It was strange. Strange how he had gotten used to tripping, strange how he had somehow gotten used to the idea that presented to him were fragments of alternative realities, ideas and emotions half-forged as if an unfinished incantation. He even somewhat got used to the taste of the Amarezon wind and the bitter taste of the tea: saccharine and melancholic, the tea tasting like jungle dirt and flora.
And yet, despite all that, he couldn’t quite get used to the idea he was thinking what he was thinking.
“It’s my final night in the Ohteotl retreat. I came in here thinking I would come out different, changed. I thought that I would see strange patterns, odd beasts, the inner machinations of myself that even I couldn’t recognize.”
There was a knowing mirth in her mask, the one that was her face. It emanated a rapt attention, a calm stillness, an accepting desolation. Her eye twinkled as much as her aquamarine. Hers was more beautiful.
It was if she were fake, a mere visage. How can somepony look like that? It didn’t make sense despite being the clearest thing there ever was, the way she was, her mere existence. If Feather wasn’t careful enough, he would have thought that she was merely a figment of his imagination, a warped memory of some pretty mare he spotted strolling a street many moons ago.
“And yet I found you. Through some way, I found you. I thought you didn’t exist, like you weren’t real. That maybe you were a botched recollection of mine. When I talked to you, though, I saw something else. You revealed yourself to me. I saw a consciousness beyond myself, an individual with true thoughts and feelings. You’re more, and you’re real. Out there, you truly do exist, waiting to be found.”
Feather allowed himself a sad smile.
“Jade, I want to meet with you. Somehow, I do want to meet with you, and that sounds completely asinine, but that’s my truth. I know I’m coming out of this place with an obligation. To find you, because I know that you’re lonely, and I know that somehow, we only have each other. I have to do this. I can’t be blind. I have to set you free.”
Silence. It was haunting, the idea that it grew between them, the movement of a non-existent breeze washing over these two souls, signifying the distance separating them. It was as alluring as uncatchable shooting stars.
Crystal Jade closed that distance, observing Feather with a newfound fascination. And as she stared back at him, Feather realized she didn’t have the usual stoicism she usually exhibited. Under her serpentine presented a cocktail of emotions: sorrow, with a tinge of hope in her eye, an expression of yearning, and most importantly her smile.
It was the first time he’d ever seen her smile. Small and accepting, sorrowful but at peace. She didn’t even glance down when she held her aquamarine gemstone with a hoof. Feather Dew could see how it sparkled a million times over—the slight twinkle of the sea.
“If you save me, then I will have an entire lifetime to give back to you.”
He could only share her mirth and nod. Feather knew in himself that her smile was enough.
It was hot. The heat of the Amarezon during the day made one wonder if it was trying to cook them alive; it would make one wonder how any creature could inhabit this environment, let alone thrive. The sun in this part of the world seemed to be as physically close to the surface of the planet as possible, for the light it gave was not only warm but bright to the point that it made Feather Dew’s eyes burn.
He was glad he entered his little hut to escape the light of the sun for a brief moment, panting. Feather had only wanted a peep as to what the other guests were up to. As suspected, they were beginning to pack their things, some of them already finished and standing around outside, talking amongst themselves or appreciating the musk of the rainforest atmosphere under a comfortable shade.
Feather knew not how to describe it, the feeling of holding a place dear to his heart when he left said place, despite it being uncomfortable at best and hostile at worst. It was the feeling of when one was saved from being abandoned in a desert, looking back at the harsh hills of sand and odd scorpions, cacti in an accepting contemplation.
When one looked back to where they once were, it meant that they had somehow left a part of themselves there forevermore. And to Feather, he knew that he was not only leaving a part of himself here, but he was also bringing something else out.
It’s a deep seated responsibility. I’m bringing an obligation.
And he knew that this was definitely his obligation—that was one-hundred percent—but he was forgetting something here. I didn’t know what to say to River Moon. ‘Oh, yeah, can you join me in an adventure to rescue a mare trapped in another dimension?’ It sounds like a setup for a joke.’
It was sort of funny—to be fair—from a nihilistic point of view. In a lot of ways, this was sort of funny.
Exhaling and shaking his head, Feather allowed himself to gaze at the smaller trees that peppered the forest floor, examining how the tips of their leaves danced in the wind silently. He saw how some of the leaves transitioned to yellow, how the tops rustled slightly more than the ones nearer to the ground, how their branches waved ever so slightly.
I’ve been thinking too much, he said. I haven’t been able to be myself in a while.
Boredom. It had brought itself to ponies on many occasions, but it seemed that he could tame the beast, bringing himself to it. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it was to be avoided like the plague, for the saying goes that only boring people get bored, right? This was the one percent, though, a moment of heightened awareness of the nature of existence. It was a blessing. It was being himself again. It was as real as tangible clouds on the most benevolent night skies.
Grabbing his saddlebag, he took out one of the photographs inside, setting down the bag and taking a moment to look at it.
Displayed rather dimly was Feather and River in her hut, sleepy but childish expressions plastered on their faces, a seemingly innocuous moment for any outsider.
He knew better, though, and the stars in the background barely did justice to what they had truly done that night: gaze at the stars. Apart from a short conversation about Crystal Jade, they seemingly had allowed themselves to be as silent as existence itself, blending into the spirits of the night.
The chirps of the birds helped him finish the thought. I need to talk to her.
Placing the photo back into his saddle bag and checking his belongings one last time, he set it on his back and secured it, satisfied. Turning to observe the room, he felt an existential contemplation wash over him as he stared at it. The wind of the Amarezon returned to tell him farewell.
Outside, he glanced around and heard the friendly, indistinct banter of the guests talking amongst themselves. The air had an energy that time was about to run out, like being the last few people in a party already mostly over. It was the final day.
Finally sighting River Moon, he walked over to her and gave her a friendly wave. She returned the gesture, briefly going back to fixing a duffel bag she had with her, trying to fix it around her back awkwardly. She also had a smaller bag that hung from her neck, rubbing against her coat in agitation.
“Stupid bag. Well, at least I got all this stuff.”
“Hey. D’you need help with that?”
River regarded his presence by nodding. “Yeah. I thought I could handle the inconvenience of a bag like this one. Who knew quadrupeds could have so much trouble dealing with stuff like this?”
He chuckled as he took a hold of a strap and let it fall under her torso, shuffling to her side and taking the other strap and fastening them together. “It would be nice to have hands sometimes. Why do you even have a bag like this anyway?”
River Moon motioned to the minotaur, speaking to a few other ponies and flexing his biceps and quadriceps. “I won it from him. We had a little competition. Arm wrestling- or hoof wrestling. I dunno what to call it, but it’s whatever.”
Feather looked back at her, blinking. “You beat a minotaur at hoof wrestling?”
She smacked her lips. “Twice, actually. He demanded that we have a rematch and I beat him at that, too. He was quite frustrated after that.”
Girl strength, huh. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the idea. “But... how?”
She puffed out her chest and beat it with her hoof. “Endurance. Strength isn’t everything, you know. And look, some protein and energy drinks; perfect for me!”
He made a move to unzip the bag and found all sorts of energy drinks and protein bars, some garish in the designs of their packaging; there were even messy wrappings presumably left in distraught haste. Who would bring energy drinks to an Ohteotl retreat? And wait...
“River, if he bet all this stuff, then what did you bring to the table?”
And now she seemed embarrassed, awkwardly shuffling her hooves and flickering her tail. She slowly moved her gaze towards him, making an “O” with her mouth with her eyes a tad wide.
Feather jabbed a hoof at his chest in wordless shock, his mouth hanging from his head. “You... me?”
“Hey, to be fair, I knew I would have won anyway! And besides... I haven’t brought anything valuable...”
He blinked, shaking his head. “O... kay.” Feather decided to change the topic. It was time. “Anyway, before we all depart... I have something to ask you because I still haven’t.”
“Oh?” She tilted her head in rather cute anticipation. “What is it?”
There’s no point in backing away now. “Remember when we talked about finding Jade last night? I was thinking about it, and I feel like I have the responsibility to go find her somehow. I...” He laughed uneasily. “Do you want to come with me in looking for her? You don’t have to go or anything.”
River Moon stared, blinking back at him. She put a hoof on her mouth, giggling. “I said I wanted an adventure of a lifetime, didn’t I? Why would I say no to that?”
And Feather smiled back, rubbing the back of his head. “There could be dragons. There could be dangerous beasts and scheming supervillains. There could even be haunted tombs and undead mummies!”
She made a deflating noise with her lips. “That stuff’s on the other side of the world, chief. And I don’t know if there are many dragons here. Though I do wonder where we’ll end up. Where do we even begin in a place such as this?” She motioned all around her, the exotic rainforest only replying with its looming size and impending tranquility.
Feather had contemplated that as well, thinking about where they could get some help or some useful info. He had found it hard to think of many places—it’s not like one could look up how to save a person from another dimension in a book and have a step-by-step guide.
“I was thinking we should go to Bocoltá and see if we can find anything. It’s a bit of a wait by airship, but I think we can make it there in about a day or two, I believe. What do you say?”
River Moon nodded. “Oh, that sounds fun! Y’know, I’d like to see the sprawling streets and colorful buildings they have over there. They even draw on their buildings and stuff. We can even paint ourselves if they’ll let us!” She beamed a jejune smile.
Feather chuckled softly. “It’ll definitely be interesting, to say the least.”
They both sighed. And no words filled the air from their lips.
Somehow, he was okay with this, not having a matter said. Feather felt the background noises blanketing them: the rustling of the trees, the low, occasional howl of the breeze, the chatter of the guests, most of them packed up and ready to leave. It truly was as if they were the last in a party already past its prime.
“Hey, Feather?” River Moon was soft spoken.
He turned to her. “Hm?”
She was serious in her expression, yet her voice was gentle. “I was wondering, what did she say to you?”
He thought about it for a moment, the memories fresh in his mind. “I told her that I wanted to meet her. I told her that I wanted to find her—again. To set her free."
River seemed content with that answer, offering a nod and looking up to the forest canopy, as if searching for some answer delivered from heaven itself. She looked back to Feather Dew with a mature determination in her eyes. “Let’s bring her back.”
He closed his eyes for a second, nodding.
“Everycreature, we are about to depart! Make sure to check your belongings!” Feather and River turned to find their guide amongst them now, catching the attention of the other guests. In response to his commands, some of them put their belongings in order, some started to lift their bags, and others admired the jungle aura for what was seemingly the last time in a good while.
Feather was definitely one of them. As much as he would love to go back, he knew that it would be a good while before he had the chance to come back here. Even without the adventure he was about to embark on, even if he had never met Jade in the first place, he felt that visits like this should be limited. It made it more special in some way.
And it’s not only the Ohteotl trips he’ll miss. Feather will miss the rainforest ambiance, how it tickled him and how it called on to him during his stay here. It was as if the forest was trying to speak to him oftentimes, whatever god up there touching him through the lightest of breezes to the coldest of gusts.
He’ll miss the bugs that seemed to buzz with no end. He’ll miss the flora—the tall trees, the smallest of odd but fascinating fungi littered all across the forest floor, everything in between. He’ll miss the loft of the tree houses; feather remembered it vividly, as if he were suddenly transported back to the bar once again, seeing the stars and feeling as if he were a little closer to the heavens.
And he’ll—somehow—miss the walking, too. He was brought back to that moment when he walked along that path, not knowing or caring where he may have ended up. It was the moment wherein he first realized River Moon and he were the only ponies Jade had, despite being worlds apart. Despite nature bringing him great fear oftentimes, it was a blessing he tried to always appreciate.
Feather Dew was glad that River Moon was by his side when they traversed through the forest pathway, despite being in a group either way. Whenever he heard his own hoofsteps hit the ground and mingle with the pebbles, he heard hers, too. He was sure that he must have heard her hoofsteps amongst the others when they had first came here, but now Feather truly knew it was hers. It was different. It was personal.
They said not a word with each other, seemingly stuck in their own respective frequencies at the moment. It was reassuring they needed not talk to each other to appreciate their own company, their own satisfying moments of epiphany.
The forest edge. It wasn’t long until the density of flora had dropped, the group finding themselves in a transition between the clear fields and forest outskirts. It was strange to him how he was finally out of the Amarezon and back into Equus. It was as if Feather and the others had just gotten out from a journey to the deepest known parts of the ocean, the deepest crevices of the world.
Celestia’s sun was bright, and it offered the sky a warmth that was somehow needed by him.
And he felt a slight breeze hit his neck, flicking his mane. It reminded him of her touch, a faint whisper. Feather wondered if Jade talked to him that way.