//------------------------------//
// Travelling 
// Story: Futility 
// by FaelaArts 
//------------------------------//


Twilight log 50
Day 6 since last oasis
I remember a time I wasn’t thirsty. I was very young, back then, my mother carried most of the items, and when she perished I could carry so little of what she could. Today I can carry more, but back then I had to leave so much behind. Even if I wanted, I couldn’t  take retracing my steps back. Truthfully I could, but going back does not lead me anywhere but to desert. At the very least by going forward, I know I’m going somewhere new.

I finished my last bit of water, and I have yet to see an oasis. If I do not find one tomorrow, I will have to resort to my last tactic.

I am down to three cans of nutrients. If I do not find an oasis, I will have to cast the second spell, one I thought I’d never have to use. I wish I could explain how they work in this log, but my mother made me swear to never write them down. I do not know why, but I trust her.

I read some of the journal I found yesterday. Most of the early chapters are similar to my own, a log of what has been and what happened that day. Halfway through however, it begins to change tone. Apparently he found a journal, like I did, and inside it detailed directions to this destination.

It spoke of how this was the last hope the world had, he mocked this and I would have to agree. He mocked how it spoke how this information would eventually reach those who were pre-destined for it. He speaks of how funny this is, funny to believe in such hopes.

The book offered to prove it’s words, so he followed it, and found that medallion. He didn’t believe it was true right up until the moment he got crushed. However his last entry talks about how even if this hope is futile, it’s better to follow the hope then just give up completely.

To live how he had been, waiting for death.

I will continue following the path his journal suggests to follow. I can’t help but feel this dead pony was just like me, because all his words almost sound like their my own.

I will continue further tomorrow, for now I rest.

Twilight log 50
Day 0 since last oasis. 
I found an oasis, however it is long since been drained of life. Everything is dead, but there is still a tiny bit of life around this place. I managed to drain enough life to conjure enough water for one more day.

I’m so thirsty, but I must go on. There are no spikes around here that will give me what I need to continue. I can only hope I find one tomorrow, because if I don’t then I’m better off dead.

I dreamed after the spell. I am writing this before I head out for today, to mix things up I guess. I don’t remember much of the dream, other then the feeling of time running out. It’s strange, our time is already up so why would I feel pressured like so?

It doesn’t matter in the end, but it did remind me of what I read of the journal. Apparently, he was an earth pony, which meant he didn’t have a horn like I do. He also spoke of his mother being a pegasus, that means they had wings instead of a horn. This confirms my theory, and I’m glad. It’s hard to make a dream with only half- known fact.

I just realised, I have yet to make a new fantasy as of yet, my thoughts being consumed by reading this dead pony’s diary. I guess having something tangible to hold onto is better then fantasy, it’s a pity it’s so rare.

There is something off in the far distance, too far to be seen unless using a zooming spell, or binoculars. I am not sure if a zooming spell exists, but I’m sure it does and I wish I knew it. Either way it is still a day’s march away, but I should reach it before I camp for the day.

And it has the perfect Spike right next to it for me to use.



The sun was unrelenting on the lone figure walking over the land. Her breath came out in a methodical and calm rhythm. Her feet took everything one step at a time,  she didn’t even notice she had arrived until the spike blocked out the sun for a single moment. Gazing up at it, she quickly took in the amount of damage and decay, and was happy to see it in near-perfect condition, jutting out at a slight angle.

Turning to face it, her horn sparked with magic, and she closed her eyes and focused on her own magic flow. Walking towards it, her horn touched it gently, and then spread along the surface, enveloping it in her purple hue.

Pulling out her bottles with levitation, she uncapped them and held them still as the spear began to crumble, eroding before her very eyes as she opened them. Her magic compressed the spike, and then transformed it back into pure substance before turning it into a liquid. It was a large bubble of brown water, she separated out the dirt and gunk using a distilling spell, it falling onto the sand and fading. What she was left with was pure water, which she filled the bottles with.

Putting the bottles away, she carried the small bit still left in her magic over to her mouth and drunk eagerly, it soon vanishing and she let her magic fade. With thirst taken care of, she turned her attention to the object nearby.

“So this is it then, the object that pony spent half his life searching for.” Honestly she didn’t understand why he had put all his hopes in it, it wasn’t anything special.