I open my eyes and they fill with light. A harsh, bright, light that cause me to shut them again, instantly.
What's going on? What happened?
Hello, Princess Twilight Sparkle. I think I can answer those questions for you.
The voice sounds like mine, but instead of coming from the outside, it originated from inside my head. I open my eyes, again, squinting.
Who are you?
The room I'm in is white, bare for the most part. There's medical equipment lined up against the wall, including an IV running down to my forehoof. There's a door at the far end of the room, closed from the outside world, and no windows. The only light comes from sterile lamps on the ceiling. It seems like a hospital, but looks can be deceiving.
I'm your supplementary memory unit, or SMU, for short. Your brain suffered heavy damage, due to an accident, so I was placed here to provide the information lost to you, until you can learn it again. Luckily, nothing crucial was lost, so you should regain all the knowledge you need and I'll be terminated from your mind.
I can hear my heart pounding like it's prodding on my head. I try to move but get too dizzy to do more than shift a little in my sweaty sheets. It's hot, my pillow sticks to the back of my head and my mane is matted down.
Are you alive?
Not anymore, but you should worry about your recovery. Your body took quite the beating.
What happened? What's this accident you're talking about?
Sorry, I don't have that information, which means it's probably still in your mind. You might find it a little hard to remember specifics, at first, but with lots of rest and patience, it should come back to you.
What information do you have?
Mainly items from books you've read, particularly magical in nature. Your important memories and personality have survived intact, though a bit shaken up.
Who ordered you placed in my head?
The voice is silent. For a while, I wonder if I didn't just imagine the whole thing, or if SMU was gone forever. Finally, I hear her again.
You should get some rest. You still have some healing to do, before you can leave.
Ignoring my desire to try and pump her for more information, I decide to wait until tomorrow for that. I do need to rest, and I can't do too much until I remember just what happened to me in the first place.
I close my eyes, shutting the light from the room out and drifting to other worlds.
I don't dream, but I can almost hear, through the pounding in my ears and the errant thoughts flying through my mind, a quiet snore tucked away.
Why would a packet of memories need to sleep?
I don't like this.
I don't like any of this.
%*%
I wake up what I assume is the next morning to the sound of hoofsteps. I can't really tell what time it is, because there aren't any clocks in the room and no way to tell what it's like outside, but I'm guessing it's the next morning.
A unicorn stallion in a white coat and stethoscope around his neck trots in, peering into a clipboard hovering in front of his face. He looks startled when he sees me awake, but keeps the level expression he entered with.
"How are you feeling, today, Princess?"
I evaluate myself. My head still feels like a herd of buffalo found a prancing ground in it, when I try to move I'm able to move it much farther before I get too dizzy, and my memories are still a scattered mess. I can remember everything perfectly fine, except for what happened in the past week or so: the time of the infamous 'accident'.
"Better than last night." I cough up the words like they taste bitter in my mouth. It's only then I realize how hoarse my voice is from underuse.
"Good to hear. Very good to hear you're awake, as well. I'll be honest that some of the doctors weren't entirely sure if the surgery was going to work, but here you are and good as new."
SMU?
His name is Doctor Synapse, he didn't perform your surgery but he's here to see if you're fit enough to be discharged.
Who performed my surgery?
I don't know.
For a supplementary memory unit, you don't remember much.
Quite the contrary, I can recite all of Sunbright's laws of ethics and Starswirl's theories on changelings and fae creatures at will. Would you like me to, now?
Maybe later.
Doctor Synapse looks at the screens on the medical instruments attached to me and writes something on his clipboard. "Well, your vitals have stabilized, so that's good news. You probably have an enormous headache, but that's just a side effect of the painkillers you're on, so that should fade. How's your memory?"
"Scattered. I'm finding it hard to remember any recent events at all. Can you tell me what the accident I got in was?" I should at least find out what happened, to prevent it happening again.
The Doctor writes another note on his clipboard, then flips the pages back and reads off it. "Yes, apparently you suffered brain damage from a blunt object striking your head, repeatedly. A chair leg, I believe. It's being checked for any signs of the attacker, but I've no idea what they'll come up with. Regardless, I believe we'll have you here for one more night of observation, then you'll be free to go in the morning."
A chair leg? Why?
"Why are you letting me out if I've only been awake one day? Aren't you supposed to keep me longer for more observation?"
Doctor Synapse raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down. "You seem fine to me, given what's happened. I think you'll recover better with the comfort of friends." He trots out and closes the door, but pauses and opens it again to poke his head out. "Besides, if we keep you here longer than four weeks, we'll have to start charging you rent." He closes the door behind him and trots off.
Four weeks? I've been here four weeks? SMU, what happened?
Three weeks and six days ago, you arrived at the hospital with severe brain damage. I don't know much about that time because I was only activated yesterday.
But if that's true, how did I get to the doctors four weeks ago?
Unknown.
Yeah, I got that impression.
%*%
I open my eyes once again.
Something's wrong.
I look around the room and see white walls, medical equipment, harsh lamps, and even an I.V. running down to my hoof, just like yesterday. But the instruments are shifted or out of order, the harsh lamps give off a different hue than before, and my I.V. feels like it was disturbed during the night.
This isn't the same room; it was made to look like it.
SMU? Where am I?
Unknown. However, you are not in the same hospital you were yesterday and before.
Why move me? How is that hospital any different from this one?
Unknown.
It was rhetorical.
Understood.
Nurse Redheart, not Doctor Synapse, trots in. She's wearing a smile, thick and coating her like wax. "Good morning, Princess Twilight. Are you ready to go back home? How are you feeling?"
I check myself over. Alert, movable, a bit sluggish. "Confused."
I try to summon the memory of my accident, somepony beating me over the head with a chair leg, but I just get a series of fuzzy, only vaguely familiar, disconnected images. My head starts to pound and I feel like somepony's putting a knife through my brain. I stop trying to remember the accident and clutch my head until the pounding finally stops.
If Nurse Redheart saw my pain at trying to remember, she didn't say anything. She finished adjusting whatever she was doing with the medical instruments next to me and turned again towards me. "Do you feel ready to be released?"
Yes a thousand times. I can tell something's wrong and I can't find out what until I'm out of here.
"I believe so."
For a moment, her waxy smile drips off and she smiles for real, visibly relieved. She helps me into a wheelchair and wheels me out of the room and through the hall.
The room I was staying in is drastically different from all the other rooms I pass by. Those have windows, comfortable bedding, warm lighting. I shake my head. Why am I so paranoid all of a sudden? I was mildly paranoid before, but now I'm analyzing everything like it was planned by my worst enemy.
It could be, the paranoia stems from your difficulty in accessing memories. Without the proper context of your memories, you feel your environment is circumspect, as if your memories were purposefully violated. Additionally, any medicine they had you on for your recovery may also be to blame.
Were my memories purposefully violated, though? It all seems too convenient that I suddenly lose the memories leading up to my accident. Much too convenient.
I'm wheeled outside and I can finally feel the sun. It feels warm, like it's washing the cold off of me.
So I'm released, what now? Where should I start trying to figure out what happened to me? Who bludgeoned me with a chair leg, even if that actually happened? Or should I just forget about it, realizing I'm just being paranoid and moving on?
I sigh, closing my eyes. I can still feel the sun, warm after weeks in the cold hospital.
I can't just move on without knowing.
I grit my teeth, opening my eyes and staring straight ahead.
I'll start at the beginning: my library.