I remember fondly the many times I would sit in my chair and enjoy the warmth of the fireplace, spending an hour or two contemplating my life in a contently fashion. The comforting reminder of my own handiwork all around me in the form of my abode and its furnishings, never letting me forget that I could still live even beyond death. I was comforted in my cabin; my humble abode. After Luna told me the truth however, it became a bane to my thoughts. I no longer looked at it in pride, rather knowing it as a sign of the deception I had been cast into. I could no longer bare its existence. After the departure of the Princess, I set fire to the foundation of my illusion.
I presently stood a safe distance from the burning building that once was my home. The fires reached far into the sky, smoke billowing into the air in great clouds as the winds took hold of them. The smell of burning wood stinging my nostrils as I silently breathed, my mind elsewhere as my gaze held hypnotically to the dancing flames as they provided light in the night.
From here on out, I was on my own. My destiny would be in my hands. Nevermore would I entrust my life into the embrace of something so foul, so deceitful as a lady of the night. I had been polite in my farewell to her; it was the least I could do considering her gentle nature towards my health and recovery. I felt no pain in making my decision neither. Like the flames that consumed the memories before me, my feelings for the Lunar Diarch equally burned away.
In my hand I presently held the originator of my current predicament. I moved the talisman between my fingers, observing its smooth surface texture and the crystal within it. I felt its warmth as the orange topaz stayed brightly lit, humming with a tune that I felt course through my arm and into my head. It was soothing, relaxing even. The tune seemed to quell my natural desire to overreact to the situation; my attitude having become of calm contentment and resolution to my new predicament.
Turning towards the north I came to accept my new fate. I looked downward at the talisman in my hand and welcomed the warmth it provided to my soul. I felt a tug in this direction, as if the power within the talisman gently pulled me toward the north. I replaced the talisman in the pocket of my hide coat, adjusting the weight of the framed backpack as I grunted from the movement. Then, with a final look towards the burning frame of my last effort at another life, I forced myself northward towards a new beginning.
The night was chilly. My breath coming out as a mist as I felt the talisman working tirelessly to keep my soul from being just as cold.
“Edward,” she began, “I want to start by stating that I have lied to you about how you came to this world.”
The silence that stretched between us lasted momentarily. I was taken aback by her statement. The nerve to speak up was silenced by the temporary feeling of shock that overtook me. Questions began to arise as I desired to ponder through assumptions her motive for speaking this at present. The good nature within me halted those thoughts before they became words, my politeness keeping my body still as I looked towards her with a neutral expression. I observed as her magic produced the talisman from her side, the cobalt blue aura dispelling as she willed it on the surface of the table nearest to me. My eyes returned to hers as she continued.
“I once told you that my hooves crafted this magical artifact. I tell you now that I have lied to you concerning this. Not only this, but also of why you came to this specific world.”
As she took in a gentle breath my eyes drifted slowly downward, examining the talisman, pondering its true purpose. The feeling of betrayal began to foster its existence within my soul. My eyes did not return to hers as she continued, her voice sounding slightly shaken.
“It is true that I wished upon the talisman for assistance. It is also true that I willed for something to transpire to help me in my time of need.” At this, she paused. I dared to look up, somewhat aback at seeing moisture in her eyes. “My motives, however, were selfish. I did not summon you specifically, the talisman is to thank for this. Whether by accident or by design-”
My voice was soft, hurt, as I interrupted her. “What was the motive?”
“I-” she sighed. “I wanted....”
My voice grew harsher. “Wanted?”
“I wanted-..” I heard her gasp slightly, as if holding back tears. “..I wanted closure. I wanted the talisman to find somepony dear to me. To save them.”
It took me a few moments before I began to understand her words. My eyes returned downward, now contemplating the black tome. Words of wisdom began to whisper gently across my mind, encouraging me to not to be rash. I felt the slight hint of moisture in my eyes as the previous feeling of betrayal resisted my minds attempts at quelling it. Visions of what could have been and what now was darted through my minds eye. The emotions attached to them fueling the feeling of betrayal to overwhelming proportions.
“And the quests?” I asked, my voice telling of the hurt.
“I-..Edwards, please understa-”
“TELL ME!” I yelled suddenly, my fist slamming against the table. My voice softened as I spoke again, trembling with emotion. “Tell me...please.”
It was another moment before I had my answer. Her voice was softer, quieter. “I made them up as I went.”
“Irrelevant then?”
Another moment, then, “yes.”
I nodded, my lips trembling as my facial muscles struggled with quivers. Tears began to softly drop down my cheeks, one after another. My eyes remained on the tome as my vision blurred. The realization that five years of my life here was without purpose stung. I already knew the answer to my next question, but my mind wanted confirmation.
“You gave me quests to make me feel useful,” I said somehow between the trembles, “all because I was never intended to show here?”
A long moment passed. I refused to look at her.
“Yes,” she replied in a whisper. “You were never meant to come here and I didn’t know what to do wi-”
“ENOUGH!”
I had screamed from the top of my lungs, silencing any further words from her. I stood as a fury akin to when I charged into battle overtook me. My hands moved under the table, my hands gripping the end as I stood and in one quick motion lunged the table across my small abode to shatter against the wall. I stood, muscles tense as I stared hatefully down at the face of the Princess. I saw fear, I saw regret, I saw tears. I spoke again, my voice lacking remorse for her plight.
“Begone demon.”
I presently resided within a gully farther north of my burning abode. A fire was before me, to my rear my sleeping bag from which was crafted of animal skins. I sat with my knees pressed to my chest, my arms folded around them as my chin rested upon gap between my knees. My eyes were gazing distantly towards the fire as my mind wandered towards memories of recent past.
I found myself regretting my choice of words to Luna. I had not desired for our parting to be one of hate and negativity. When I spoke my words to her, she had remained speechless. I had watched as she lingered for a moment longer, her tears then having ceased by my outburst. I had turned my back towards her, hearing the telltale sssPOP of her magical teleportation. When I turned around, she was gone.
It hurt; deeply, truly hurt. I knew it needed not be done in such a manner, I found my level of restraint issued to be of adequate quality. I had not, for instance, condoned myself to strike her again as I so desired in that moment. I knew I had lost then the only entity capable of redeeming my isolation on this planet; my conscious still even at present chiding my decisions.
I remembered then the black tome I saved before I lit my previous abode to flames.
I slowly reached towards my framed pack, undoing a leather strap to the top portion of the main pouch to reach within. I produced the black tome shortly after, allowing my position to shift as I sat more comfortably in a crossed legged fashion. The flames flickered briefly as the tome crossed before it, returning to full brightness when I sat it within the confines of my lap. I rubbed a hand across the cover of the leather-bound surface and read the golden-etched words silently unto myself.
I then slowly opened the cover, feeling the thin pages within slide across my well-worn fingertips. It was comforting; nostalgic. So many years of faith, so many trails, so many battles, yet the words always remained the same. I briefly read the same title and the introductory texts that followed. My hand crossed the smooth surface of the pages again, sliding to the corner as my index finger prodded a few pages deep. In tradition with my times of need, I closed my eyes and uttered a silent prayer, then flipped the pages to the passage that should greet me.
The greater wrong is not that which you know you have done,
but that which you know you could have done.
This, even this, shall bring unto you a lesson:
if you forget kindness, anger shall harm you;
if you forget honor, betrayal shall strike you;
if you forget charity, greed shall take from you;
if you forget thankfulness, isolation shall separate you.
Forget these not, for within these is made a warrior of Yoaral.
For a time after reading the words I contemplated their meaning. I silently closed the tome, sliding it back within the safe confines of its previous resting place. I returned my gaze to the fire as I allowed myself to meditate on them, to understand them as the writer of the passage would have wanted me to. The tome was a bible to those under its faith; instruction and discipline depicted throughout to guide one along ones journey of life. It was not intended to be understood in a single day, nor in a year, nor several years.
Like I was doing presently, one was meant to contemplate them, to encourage meditation on them. I quietly followed the tradition as my eyes beheld the fire before me, never leaving the flickers and colorations of the flames as they consumed their wooden fuel.
I would then spend the remainder of my waking hours referencing my experiences and memories with the words; honoring them simply by thinking on their meaning as a way to improve my present condition.
The fire burned as I retired to sleep later in the night.
* * *
“Please forgive me,” a feminine voice begged.
I recognized that voiced.
In my dream I turned around, gazing into the figure of Luna some ways off. She looked pitiful, her once condition equine features now in shambles. She looked as if she had been crying for hours upon hours on end. I looked towards her, confusion apparent. I remember asking how she had appeared here as I’ve never seen her in my dreams until this point. Before I could get my answer I awoke to daylight.
* * *
The forest around me teemed with life, stirring me to life from my slumber. Once I checked that I had not been looted during the previous night I gathered my belongings and continued northward. I did not know why I desired to follow the talisman by this point. The only reason I gathered was the quest to find answers, true answers, as to why I was stranded on this world. Failing this, I would at least perish doing something under my own volition and not under the guise of deceptive assistance.
I was very much a stubborn man.
After a few hours of hiking through the surrounding forest I came to a clearing. I knew it to be the barrier between the land of the lizardfolk and the world beyond. I had never ventured this far and knowing this I stood at the edge of clearing. Mountains greeted my sight in the distance; tall and dominating the skyline with their white-crested peaks. I checked the talisman to ensure I was on a sure path, feeling it humm and watching it blink in assurance of such.
I continued onward.
The twin moons of light and red crested in the far horizon, the sun at its zenith overhead. I never found the luxury or interest in naming the orbiting bodies, nor the planet I resided on. There was no comfort in doing such personally. They simply existed as reminders of where I was stranded and how far away from home I truly am. Naming them would mean I was comfortable with my present habitation; I was not.
At the end of my days travel following a few short resting stops I ended my trek overlooking a valley. The land around me was lush and green; streaks of blue could be seen around me ending in waterfalls into the gash in the earth. The coming night presented an unusual warmth and I found no need to use the roll of kindle I had gathered prior for a fire. As the stars began to show I rested, tired from my long escape from my past. The words I had read from my holy tome whispered in my mind as I slept.
The prisoner awoke.
During the previous night he had gained a sudden surge of magical energy. He used some of it to find and release his chained bindings. His mouth was once again dry, he closing his eyes once more to concentrate on his will to attract the nearby flow of water. In short order he felt its coolness against his lips, drinking from it as it emerged from the cracks in the wall. It was not healthy, nor sanitary, but after downing whatever water from the bowl priorly he had little choice.
He had discovered that the only food provided for him was a basket of extremely rotten apples in the far corner. The smell had gone unnoticed to him until he had awoken during the previous night, dismayed at the lack of nutrition that his body no doubt needed. That was when he discovered the trickling water against the aged stone walls. To his dismay, he also discovered he was trapped in his cell. Whoever had placed him here had not intended for him to escape in any fashion.
He felt alone.
After relieving himself in a pit in the corner of his small prison, he returned to his resting spot and contemplated events. His cell was dark with no outlet of any kind for light. There was no obvious exit of any sort. With the abundance of air to breathe and the steady supply of water, it was likely that his stone prison was built underground or within the confines of some ancient structure. It was only a guess, but it would be enough to satisfy him for the time being. Every time he attempted to remember something, anything, his mind would rush into a pain that would lapse him into unconsciousness. After the third try he had given up entirely for the sake of his health.
Still, he could feel the magic within him, the will, grow stronger. It was subtle, but he could feel it. Steadily rising, giving him strength. He hoped it continued, believing it to be the life-giving properties of the water he steadily supplied himself with. He just wished he ha-
...wait..
He rose from laying back against the wall, head turning towards the water as he smelt the air again. Could it be? Yes...yes it could! He quickly galloped over, stopping at the corner edge as his tongue tasted the stone. He tasted again, confirming his suspicion, and then began licking and clicking his teeth fervently at the source of his new interest.
The moss was delicious.