//------------------------------// // Chapter XX // Story: The Forgotten: Traveler // by Jatheus //------------------------------// Mestra Amymone stirred, awakening to near total darkness. She looked up, and Brill was crouched over her, his outline just visible by orange ember-light. He made a shushing sound as her butterflies began swarming his face, casting their faint glow to reveal his features. A look of either concern or fear filled his eyes. “Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Mestra shook her head and strained her ears. “I could have sworn I just heard a saber-cat chuffing,” Brill spoke in a ghostly voice. The mare’s mouth went dry as her pulse quickened. She was suddenly wide awake. She stood up as quietly as possible, each movement crunching the dead vegetation that covered the forest floor. The pair of ponies stood side by side, looking opposing directions deep into the darkness that was the forest. Mestra’s blood pumped loudly in her ears with each heavy beat of her heart. Her breaths became short and shallow in anticipation of what was coming. The moment stretched on, Mestra licked her lips, watching, waiting…. Nothing happened. Mestra slowed her breaths and took them deeply, trying to regain a more level disposition. There was a quiet, but for the normal sounds of night creatures that are commonly heard in a forest. Crickets and bats and other crawling things were going about their routines, unbothered or unaware of any potential threat. Eventually, at about the time the mare began to suspect that there was no danger, it was Brill who broke the silence of the ponies. The stallion shook his head and sighed, “I’m sorry I got you all worked up. I must have been mistaken.” He let out something like a giggle and returned to his side of their campsite and stirred the ashes, revealing more hot glowing coals. Within a minute of adding more wood, he had the fire going again. Mestra sat down, shaking a little from fright, but not sure what to do about it. Her butterflies landed in her mane, tickling her ears. The night air was cool and damp. She turned to her companion. “I am scared.” He looked at her, clearly concerned, “I’m sorry. I really thought I heard something. I would never scare anypony like that. Especially...” He didn’t finish. He sat across from her, staring. “What?” she asked. “Forget it. I’m sorry.” The mare felt strange. She didn’t know what was churning inside her, but it was something akin to the longing she experienced when she wanted to remember her past. The two exchanged another locked gaze before he spoke again. “I could, I mean, if you want to... I could come closer.” Mestra’s heart began beating much faster again. She felt a weakness in her limbs, but she nodded. The stallion came close to the mare, and he sat beside her. Their bodies were just touching; it felt good. As relief from the tension washed through the mare, she calmed herself enough to lie down. Brill laid beside her, back to back. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said. “Ah… It is okay.” The pair remained silent for the rest of the night. Brill was still for a long time, but he stirred once or twice before the sun came up. Daylight chased the shadows and the fears of night away, but the mare was exhausted. It didn’t take the two long to clean up their camp and saddle up for their day’s journey. Brill was strangely quiet as they walked. The mare wondered whether he had run out of stories. She didn’t mind the silence as they plodded along the forest road. There were plenty of birds and other cheerful daytime creatures making melodies on the wind. They made good progress, and by mid-afternoon, they had reached the eastern edge of the trees, where the wild terrain gave way to farmland. The cultivation stretched to the horizon, offering a breathtaking view. “Look at that countryside,” Brill said. “I see it,” Mestra replied. Brill cocked one eyebrow up, “What? No, I meant it’s pretty.” “Oh... yes it is.” He looked at her, his expression turning into a slight grin, “Look at that mare.” Mestra Amymone felt herself blush again. “Thank you….” He took a step toward her. She didn’t back away. “You know something? In all my travels, I think I’ve not found anypony quite so easy on the eyes as you… that means pretty.” The mare wondered if there were degrees of blushing. If it were possible, she must have found a high, bright red, level of it. She said nothing. “There is one thing I’ve been lacking,” he continued. “In all of my travels, and in all the stories I told you, didn’t you notice that… In every one of them, I was alone?” She hadn’t noticed. But now that he mentioned it, she realized that it was the case. She nodded. “I think it never really bothered me until last night. Sitting with you by the fire... I... I don’t like the thought of being alone again.” Mestra’s heart quickened and began pounding like a drum. He took another step closer. She felt a great anticipation, but of exactly what she was uncertain. While her lessons on dating and courtship had not been forgotten, her lack of experience in such matters left her befuddled. “Since you’re traveling the road like me, we could go together. Then neither of us would have to be alone.” They were nearly nose to nose now. The mare’s mouth felt impossibly dry, and a lump had formed in her throat. She felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what to do. “I think,” he paused for a long moment. He looked like he might be reconsidering, or perhaps searching for courage. Those bright blue eyes were looking away now, uncertain. “Go on,” she finally managed. He locked her gaze again. “I think… I’m falling in love with you.” If there were a maximum amount of blushing, Mestra Amymone was certain she had attained it. Brill closed the remaining distance. She thought her heart would burst. She was about to tell him that she did not need foals at this time. Then his lips kissed hers, delicately at first. All coherent thought was lost. A fire was lit in the mare’s soul that burned like the fireworks on the first day of winter. The pair leaned in to each other. The two were locked together for an eternal moment, and a surging of power roared within the mare. The pale longing she’d felt before became a torrential force. It was as if a dam had burst in her soul, letting out an ocean of feelings that she hadn’t previously known. Worlds could have lived and died in that moment, and she might have cared nothing for it. Such was the overwhelming power of the unfamiliar sensations. Brill stepped back and smiled at her. Mestra Amymone felt giddy, almost drunk on the new emotions that had been unleashed. She blinked, only to realize that she had trouble focusing on the stallion. He had become blurry. Perhaps she’d neglected to breathe in all of the excitement. She abruptly sat down as her butterflies darted in front of her face. Brill said something, but his voice sounded far away, so very far away. Her head still swimming, she laid down, though it almost seemed more like the ground rose up to meet her. Everything slowly drifted away like leaves on the wind. … The first light of dawn stabbed Mestra Amymone’s eyes. They opened slowly, as if fighting her. The world was gently spinning in the mare’s vision, and she struggled to stand upright. She was groggy and quite confused. The last time she had felt this way was at a harvest gala where she’d quite unintentionally had too much strong drink. “Brill?” she called out. But nopony came. She turned, only to have the world spin faster. She held her head, moving cautiously to scan the area. She was alone, but for the butterflies that were resting on her hat nearby. Not only was there no sign of Brill, but her bags were also nowhere in sight. Where could he have gone? Morning birds sang, which seemed obtrusive and loud to the mare. She picked up her hat and put it on her pounding head. On the ground, beneath her hat, she discovered a note and her water bottle beside a small pile of oats. Mestra sat down and unfolded the paper. ‘Mestra Amymone, you really should be far more careful in whom you place your trust. You could find all manner of unsavory ponies on the road that would mean to do you harm. I understand if you’ll hate me for this, but you fell asleep because I drugged you, and I’ve stolen all of your money and belongings.’ So stunned was Mestra Amymone that she had to stop reading. She couldn’t believe it. Brill, a thief? He had seemed so nice. He had helped her across the river. He had awakened her when he had heard the saber-cat… if he had actually heard a saber-cat. A burning rage ignited within the mare and hot tears began leaking from her eyes. She struggled to regain her composure and finish reading the note. ‘Now, I may be a thief, but I like to think of myself as an honest thief. I left your water and a little food, which is more than enough to get you to the next town. I trust you’ll have no trouble finding work. I wish you well in your travels and hope you discover the truth of your past someday. Until then, travel a little more warily or you’ll be taken advantage of again or worse. Most Apologetically Yours, Brill.’ The mare’s head was throbbing in a mix of anger and residual effects of whatever the stallion had drugged her with. She looked ahead to the dawn across the countryside. A whole night had passed since Brill had knocked her out. He’d likely be long gone, and even if not, how could she get her things back? Gathering what little remained, she was most distressed to realize that even her winter clothes and the book that she’d taken from her Magister’s house were gone. Mestra eventually started walking, tears streaming down and burning her face with each step. More than every insult the stallion had delivered, she felt stupid and ashamed for falling into his snare. Her magister, as well as Stormy and Misty, had warned her many times about other ponies not all being friendly. While she had met those that didn’t like her, this was the first time she could remember really experiencing this… being used… for herself. It was horrible. She knew that the butterflies would try ease her mind, to lead her to the place where she could forget, but that wouldn’t help anything. She’d just get robbed by another pony later, and she knew it. She needed to remember. A few hours were spent allowing her tears to work themselves all out. As she pressed on toward the next town, the forgotten mare hardened her resolve to discover the secrets of her past in spite of the upsetting setback she had endured. That is how she would succeed. She wouldn’t let scoundrels like Brill get the better of her again. She would be ready.