A white canvas.
Really, that was all I could see for miles around. Maybe somepony had forgotten to load reality, so now I was stuck in empty limbo. Nothing but the top of my tangelo muzzle contrasted from the marshmallow color of the world around me. It was empty, and it was quiet; all quiet in limbo. Well, at least I had my steadily quickening heart rate to break the silence. So, now what?
“What are ya doing just standing there?” Exactly the question I was going to ask - wait, that was not from my mouth. Either somepony was now with me or I was finally going insane - fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, it was the former. The new voice came from behind me. With a quick turn of my head, there was suddenly a crackling campfire complete with two short logs facing the flames at perpendicular angles.
Seated in the log opposite of me, was a light brown stallion with a flowing, darker brown mane that fell just short of covering his violet eyes. The most notable features were his unicorn horn popping out of his mane and the unkempt, red flannel shirt he wore. He had been speaking to me, but his focus was on the animated fire before him. Somehow, the flames were still burning strong even though the pile of lumber underneath was nearly ashes, and not a single breeze could be felt in the white expanse we inhabited.
He continued to stare at the flames, a solemn frown on his face. “Well... are ya going to take a seat?” His voice was firm and calm, as if being stuck in the middle of nowhere was just a minor inconvenience. I shifted myself so that my forefront was facing the fire. The light from the fire danced across my chest as I approached him. “Go on. sit down kid.” The stallion still had his gaze fixed on the flames.
“Who are you?” My voice trembled like a foal still learning how to make coherent sentences. I was now in front of the fire, but I was not about to take a seat with a pony I had only met just seconds before. The stallion still looked into the fire, as if he were making conversation with the charcoal.
“So is that the first thing yer going to ask me? Not something like ‘where in Equestria am I?’” He spoke quickly and in a gruff manner. Now that I think about it, that was actually a good question... where in Equestria am I? The stallion opened his mouth, “Let me give ya’ an example of a question worth asking: do ya know how you ended up here?”
I had to be honest. “No.”
“Do ya really think somewhere like this actually exists?” The stallion produced a plank of wood enveloped in a violet aura identical to the aura surrounding his horn. Using his magic, he chucked the plank into the hungry flames. “A place where all you can see around you is a blank canvas? A place where fire can continue burning without oxygen?” Without oxygen? I should be dead right now! I inhaled sharply in my panic, yet nothing entered my lungs. There was no strangling feeling in my insides; it was as if I was always living without air. Apparently, I did not even need to breathe here... the realization slapped me across the face. I was dreaming again!
The stallion must have taken my silence as confirmation that I knew what was going on. He gestured a hoof towards the other log to his right. “C’mon now then. Take a seat kid.” What if this was just a trick to kill me after last night’s nightmare failed? However, he just helped me see that I was dreaming; it would not make sense to reveal that to me if he was going to murder me. No matter what his intent is, it was obvious he was not going to thrust a knife into me. I trotted around the fire to the unoccupied log, and seated my rump on the ridged lumber.
Glancing over at the stallion, I could now make out more of his features than I was able to across from him through the fire. He was past his prime, maybe just entering his elderly years. Despite his age, his body was quite impressive. His legs were bulky with muscles that seemed ready to plow fields for the rest of their natural life. His chest was bulging just enough so that it was noticeable in his flannel shirt. The distinguishing factor was the cutie mark he possessed on his flank. It was a roll of duct tape with a nail going through it.
Not a single possibility ran through my mind pointing towards what this stallion’s special talent could be. What kind of skill involves duct tape and nails? However, a pony’s talent cannot always be figured out just from the cutie mark, right? His may have to do with something else entirely.
“It has ta’ do with alchemy. My cutie mark.” My eyes switched from his cutie mark back to his eyes. For the first time since I met him, the stallion was staring at me. I really hope he did not get the wrong idea from me staring at his flank for this long. His violet eyes examined me with the least bit of enthusiasm possible even though we were the only sentient beings in this place. “Name’s the Alchemist.”
“The Alchemist?” The question did not seem to reach the Alchemist, who turned to face me on his log. He was hunched over, but the stance appeared uncomfortable - that is considering how awkward just sitting on my rear is.
“Alchemy is the art of turning common materials of little value into a combination of greater value. Common objects like recorders, funnels, duct tape and bubbles are uncostly and serve specific purposes. When ya’ bring them together - you can make them serve any purpose in any situation ya’ find yourself in.” The Alchemist smirked and gazed downwards. I followed his eyes.
Right on queue, the said items materialized out of nowhere between us. It is impossible for them to have been there before, but it seemed just as preposterous to imagine that they could just appear spontaneously in this barren world. The Alchemist’s horn lit up. Each item was enveloped in a violet aura before rising off the ground by his magic. The Alchemist shifted his stare to the tools of his trade as they floated eye level.
Squinting his eyes in focus, his magic began manipulating a vivid red funnel so that it eased its way into one of the holes on the side of a wooden recorder. With a firm twist, the funnel was secured in place. Next came the roll of duct tape. Two dark grey strips of the unyieldingly sticky material were latched onto the recorder as well. They covered the rest of the holes, forcing any air entering the instrument to pass through the whole interior. Another strip was ripped off the roll and wrapped around the bottom of the funnel to assure that it would stay connected to the recorder. The final touch was a filly’s bottle of bubbles complete with a wand on top. The Alchemist flipped the bottle before lowering it into the funnel with the wand facing downwards. His magic had to give a little push in order to nudge the wand into the recorder through the funnel. Another long piece of duct tape circumscribed the sides of the bottle, attaching it to the funnel. The whole creation had a distinctly shoddy look to it, not helped by the repelling color scheme of tan, red, and black.
“How did you do that?” I continued to stare in awe at the makeshift pipe the Alchemist raised up to his mouth. With an exhale from his lungs, bubbles arose from the open end of the contraption. He snuck a look at me with one eye as he continued blowing bubbles through the end of the recorder instead of music.
The pipe fell away from his teeth. Except the Alchemist just glanced at me with that indifferent look from before. “Well, it was quite easy. Ah just had to attach this here bottle of bubbles to the funnel and-”
“No, I mean how did you make those objects appear?” I still could not grasp my mind around how he managed to produce four items out of nowhere. He was not even using magic at the time!
“Ah willed them to be real.” The Alchemist responded.
“You... willed them? What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it means. Ah made them exist in our endless realm.” He went back to blowing bubbles from his pipe with that knowing smirk. Now he was just playing with me.
“So you can will objects into existence. How?”
The Alchemist pulled his head back, staring at the space above his head for a few seconds. When he found his answer, his eyes turned back to me. “Just try imagining it kid. In yer mind, imagine the object is there beside you. Think of the shape, the color, and the details right down to how it would weigh and feel in your hooves.” I rested my gaze on the empty space to my left on the log. What kind of item could I fit in this limited area? A pencil? An apple? Yes, an apple should do. Apples are red - and curved around the sides. Tough, solid, and lightweight as well. Just like the Alchemist did before, I willed a red, curved apple to exist on the log. My eyes widened in surprise, considering I just managed to spontaneously create an object with my mind. It had to be impossible, but then again I was dreaming; I suppose nothing had its limits here. Wait, if I am looking down at it, then why can I only see the side of the apple instead of the top?
“...Er - umm. Yeah, it seems ya’ might need to start thinking a little more three-dimensional from now on kid.” With one hoof, I scooped up the “apple” I willed to be real. It was flat as paper. Heck, at eye level, I would not even be able to see it! With a sigh, I threw my creation to my right. Just like paper, it floated gently in no particular breeze before landing on the floor.
Despite what was a failure to me, there was no hint of disappointment in the Alchemist’s face. He gave me a genuine smile before opening his mouth to speak, “Try again. This time think of the apple from various viewpoints. You do not always have ta’ imagine it from a strictly linear point of view. Think all around it; refine as many details as you can.” Repeating his advice in my mind, I once again focused on the portion of the log to my left.
This time, I imagined looking at the apple from different perspectives. The top, the bottom, and a full 360 degree rotation of the sides. The skin would be bright red, but it would also come in various shades of the color with a few specks of deep brown and yellow spread across it. Everything right down to the position it would have and the shadow it would possess in the fire were refined in my mind. A three-dimensional apple appeared next to me. It was an exact replica of its real-life counterpart!
I had come into this dream and the last with not a single idea of what was going on, but now I was in control. I felt as if nothing could harm me! Most of all, for the first time I could recall in my short memories, I did not feel as if I was standing on the precipice of danger. It was a short-lived moment of harmony but well-needed.
“That is good, but you will need to be quicker than that.” The Alchemist glanced at me with somber eyes, his smile from before vanishing into an emotionless line. “The nightmares will come, and you will need to defend yourself. That apple was training for the situations to come. Ya’ need to be able to will objects into existence at the ready.” Nightmares will come. I shuddered mentally at the thought of the monstrous shadows that tried to murder me last night. Imagining the apple was challenging without a time limit, but trying to conjure up items to save me while vicious attempts are made on my life?
My newfound confidence dissipated under a storm of pessimistic thoughts.
“But never lose faith.” I was brought out of my glum trance by the Alchemist’s change in tone. His firm voice increased in volume. “You will have ta’ keep yourself going no matter what the nightmares throw at ya. Persevere through whatever hopeless situation ya’ end up in. Oh, and keep yer mind open, kid.” With that said, it seemed like the Alchemist had said everything he needed to say. His eyes darted back to the flames, which were starting to die down despite how long they had been burning strong. I looked for something more to ask, but I could not find anything to say.
After an awkward moment of silence, the ears of the Alchemist suddenly perked up. He turned his muzzle towards me. “Remember this, Intimus. Everyday begins with a blank canvas.” My mouth formed into a puzzled slant, reflecting my confusion at what he had just told me.
“What does that even mean?” It was a blatant question to ask the pony who just provided me a way to defend myself. The Alchemist did not seem to mind; in fact, he calmly chuckled for a good while. His powerful laugh echoed across the expanse we inhabited, before he finally satisfied his humor.
“Ha! It’s some old wisdom that’ll serve ya’ good in the future, Intimus!” His smirk spread from one side of his face to the other. There was something off about his good spirits though. There was an unmistakable sadness in his features. The way his eyebrows furrowed slightly when he grinned... was it pity? Perhaps it was regret? Whatever it was, I had no time to analyze his true feelings as darkness began creeping into the white landscape. The fire was dying down under the looming strength of the shadows. The Alchemist continued his deceitful grin. It was at that moment that I realized what I had missed. How he knew my name.
“Wait Alchemist. How do you know who-” The darkness snuffed out my voice. The flames ceased to burn and the world went black.
The Alchemist was gone, and I was aware that I was no longer sitting but rather lying on my belly. My face was dug into some sort of grainy surface that was tepid and mushy to my skin. My eyes had closed at some point during the transition, so I risked opening one of them. There was no white expanse anymore. There were now lofty blades of grass and green moss running free on any surface it can reach. Tough, aged brown trunks rose from the moss into a foliage that blocked almost all but a few rays of sunlight. A wet heat descended on my back, sapping my energy deliberately. My hearing alerted me to the loud buzz of mosquitos and the cries of what seemed to be macaws. Beyond these distracting noises, there were distinct sounds that could not belong to anything other than predators. Wait, how could I know what these sounds were? But more importantly, when did I end up in a jungle?
With a grunt, I brought my face off of the jungle floor and surveyed the environment I was in. There was no organization in the way vines, trees, and other wild plantlife grew around me. Apparently, I landed in a clearing devoid of any wildlife save for an occasional fern or two. As far as I was concerned, I just woke up in a jungle with (most likely) countless predators with nt a clue how I got here. Also, I was lost. This could not get any better could it?
Life turns out to have a cruel sense of humor.
A mighty impact on my back sent me sprawling onto the jungle floor again. My face got to reaquaint itself with dirt and moss as my assailant pinned me down by practically standing on me! My forelegs were pinned behind my head, forcing me into a helpless stance. “Ah! O-okay, you got me! Please, I have no idea where I am and how I got here! Just don’t eat me!” My organs were basically getting crushed by the weight of my assaulter. There were two areas on my lower back where the most force was being exerted. My aggressor must be a pony, as their other two legs held my forelegs in place. I felt the assailant shift their weight to lower their head to my twitching ear.
“Who the hay are you?” The voice was feminine, but it was also rough and frankly very intimidating in this situation! So, my assailant was a female pony, a mare? I tried not to think too hard on it as my body continued to be compressed under her.
“I-Intimus! Intimus is my name.” My own voice came out frantic and strained. The grip on my forelegs relaxed and soon the weight on my back was removed. I gasped in relief, clutching my nearly crushed insides.
“Intimus? Well, about time I found you, probie.” Now that I was not being crushed to death, I could gaze at the newcomer. She was a relatively small mare with a lean, athletic body. Her mustard coat blended well with the dirt of the clearing. I sneaked a glance at her cutie mark: it was a golden compass rose. Not to mention, she had wings on both sides of her body, albeit one was wrapped in fresh bandages. However, the defining factor was her mane. It was a mixture of grey in different shades. It was almost as if someone had sucked all the color from a rainbow and attached it onto her. Her bangs slipped right above her eyes and some of it fell out of a tan pith hat down the side of her neck. A pair of light magenta eyes stared back at me with annoyance.
“What? You look like you have never seen a renowned treasure hunter before. Now c’mon probie, I know you are new to this and all.” The pegasus trotted over to a collapsed log straight ahead of us. “But you’ll just have to trust me. Okay?” After a moment of dumbfounded hesitation, I nodded lightly. Just who was this treasure hunter, and why was she treating me like her partner in crime?
“C’mon then, Intimus! Care to journey with Daring Do herself?” Daring Do? What kind of name was that?