//------------------------------// // Chapter XVII // Story: The Forgotten: Traveler // by Jatheus //------------------------------// Once upon a time in the magical land of Equestria, there was a young mare who encountered a tree that feeds on sorrow and sadness. The tree drank too deeply, and the mare was so heartbroken that she completely lost her memory. A wise old unicorn magister took her in and retrained her to speak, read, and many other things. Within but a year, the wise old unicorn passed away, leaving the forgotten mare alone. The seasons changed, and after intently studying the books that had been left behind, the mare set out on an adventure to discover clues to her forgotten past. Soon, she found the nearby city of Hollow Shades, where she made friends and searched for anyone who remembered her. After exhausting hope of any meaningful discovery and having learned many useful lessons, she began traveling Equestria to continue her quest. This is the story of Mestra Amymone... Mestra Amymone sat in the shade of a great oak tree, wiping the sweat from her brow. The afternoon summer sun scorched everything that strayed beneath its rays. She took in a deep breath of humid air, letting the scents of grass and earth fill her lungs before letting it go. Four luminous golden butterflies, Mestra’s constant companions, strayed from the safety of the shade, dancing all the brighter to birdsongs in the sunlight before quickly darting back to rest on the mare’s wide brimmed hat. She removed that covering, careful to not disturb the butterflies as she set it beside her in the shade. The faintest cool breeze tickled her mane, though it was not enough to really make her comfortable. Mestra thought back, recalling to her imagination when she and her friend Stormy had played in the rain. … “Ah! Aah!” Mestra had called. “It’s just rain,” Stormy shrugged. The forgotten mare pointed, “Fat rain!” And indeed it was. Plump raindrops fell somewhat sporadically, making satisfying smacking sounds as they hit the ground. It was unlike any precipitation Mestra had previously seen. A mischievous smile curled Stormy’s lips, “Let’s go!” Filled with exhilaration, Mestra and Stormy charged through the house, bolting through the door and into the rain. Stormy’s mother was shouting after them, but they didn’t pay her any attention. They danced around the big drops of water, splashing in the forming mud and laughing as they went. The pair confined their cherubic revelry to Stormy’s front yard, but that did nothing to dampen the glee that was unleashed at their frivolity. One of the massive drops smacked Mestra’s head, making her gasp after it ran down her nose. … Mestra Amymone couldn’t help but smile at the memory. It did make her less aware of the heat, though not actually any cooler. Reasoning that she had time to wait for the sun to ease its scorching, she rummaged in her saddle bags for paper and pencil. Shifting into a less comfortable but more functional position, she began to write. ‘Dear Stormy and Misty, it has not rained here. It is hot. No pony in the last town knew me. It was a small place. I stayed there for a week. I have bits for a month. I will stop for a job soon. Mestra.’ A hot breeze rolled across the plain before her, and the forgotten mare put away her things and dozed for a while. As the afternoon wore on, Mestra Amymone continued her trek down the road. She would still have several hours of light before she needed to stop. Walking in the dark was far too difficult, especially on nights with little moonlight to see by. Just before sunset, she happened upon a small stream. The water looked and smelled clean, so Mestra filled her canteen. Taken with a need to cool off and a certain whimsy, she splashed in the water, giving herself a proper soak that chased her butterflies away. Considering whether she should go ahead and give herself a proper cleaning, she was taken in another memory from her time with Stormy and her mother, Misty. … “Oof!” Stormy scrunched her muzzle. Misty sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose as well. “Stormy, would you show Mestra to the bathroom?” The younger mare let out a sigh, “Yes, momma.” Returning her attention to their guest, Misty continued, “No doubt you’ll want to get cleaned up now that you’re back around others and not living alone in the wilds.” “Ah?” the forgotten mare asked, unsure of the implication. Stormy looked at the visitor and then back to her mother, the sleepiness in her expression giving way to bewilderment. Misty took a breath. “When you don’t have the opportunity to keep yourself clean, one can develop an... an unpleasant odor.” “Ah?” “To be blunt, you smell too bad to be inside, so you need to take a bath.” “Ah!” Mestra finally understood what the others were getting at, “Mestra can bath. Mestra know how.” The others seemed relieved, and Stormy led the way to the bathroom, showing Mestra where to find the soaps and towels she would need to complete the task. The mare was quite pleasantly surprised to find warm water, as much as she could want, coming right out of the wall at the turn of a knob. At her Magister’s cottage, they’d had a wash tub that they had to fill, first heating the water over a fire. This more luxurious way of bathing was much to Mestra’s liking. Her butterflies found a place to hide from the shower atop a mirror near the sink. Mestra was surprised by the amount of dirt that washed from her coat. It compelled her to wash her mane a second time. Though she made no effort to hurry, she had nearly finished when Misty interrupted. “Are you finished in there?” “Ah!” … A thorough washing completed, Mestra Amymone left the small stream behind. Her butterflies reunited with her, making their perch on her hat again. Much comforted by her memories, she continued her journey toward the next town.