He awoke to blinding contrast. The heat of his own crimson blood trickling from his side, the cold of the snow and ice surrounding him. The dullness of the ache within the lowest reaches of his spine, the sharpness of that pain shooting vicious lines up and toward his neck. He took a staggered but shallow breath, the mist of his exhale rising above him in the stillness of the air. The stillness… he thought, but how. His last memories were not of such stillness, again, the contrast confused and assaulted his already pain-dulled thoughts. He remembered falling… of the wind tearing at him and screaming in his ears. Before that… Climbing, bracing against the cruel wind, being up so very high above everything, almost touching the faint ceiling of the world. His mind gave him brief images of the sight, the memory of mountains surrounding him, their peaks… Below him? Had he been flying… No, he remembered, he had been standing there on that tallest of peaks, the mountains shrouded in clouds, their tops tiny islands in a sea of cumulus white.
He wondered more on these memories for a while before the pain in his side overcame his confusion. His thoughts, replaced now with the basest desire to continue existing, somehow. He lifted his head carefully, slowly. Though there was great pain, it was possible for him to adjust and prop himself upright on an elbow. He looked over his body, frowning with concern at the deep scarlet patch soaked through many thick layers of clothing at his side. With much distress, and great effort, he found he could stand. After a few brief moments steadying himself he began to look around, taking in his surroundings. He was at the base of a seemingly impossibly tall mountain face that rose vertically above him, the ice and snow piled at its bottom to form a small indent there, shielding him from the bitter wind. He remained there for a few moments, gathering his strength and fortifying his will as best he could, before taking the first few gruelling steps through the snow.
It took only minutes for the pain and the biting wind to force him into a rigid monotony, a machine like trudge through the snow and ice. Occasionally his foot would pierce the hard shell of snow and into the softer cold below. Each time he hesitated, gathering his strength back and righting himself, before carrying on and on. His vision began to fuzz and blur, speckled with black dots. He pondered repeatedly in his head, was this the beginning of snow blindness, or the beginning of unconsciousness? The thought itself didn’t matter to him, only that he keep thinking. Thinking of anything kept his mind off the pain. His mind however, was in far better shape than his body, and eventually it was the latter that failed him. After hours of his lumbering shuffle against the wind, he collapsed into the snow and onto his back. Though his wings were protected within his jacket, from the fall he could feel that they too must be quite broken, the sudden sharp pain forcing a cry from his lips, taking precious air from his lungs. He panted softly, each one pushing daggers into him as black curtains began to fold in at the edges of his vision. He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts slip away with the wind.
The smell of smoke was the first tickle at his waking senses, followed immediately by the feel of warm blankets surrounding him. He opened his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath without even a whisper of pain. All he could see was the canvas ceiling of a tent, a hole in the center where smoke was escaping into the gale. He began to lift his head, but it was pushed very gently back down by a hand. The touch was soft, gentle and strangely reassuring to him. It felt familiar. The hand moved gently down to his cheek, remaining there as a face moved into view above him. He recognised that face… He recognised her. She looked at him with concern, her worried expression defining the features of her face around her grey eyes. Her coat was white, her mane a light blue and flowing long around her shoulders, split at her brow around her horn, though usually it was tied back. Was it? How did he know, why did he know? Why did she seem so familiar? She smiled softly, sighing in relief before speaking in a soft voice, though loud enough to be heard above the wind.
“I’m glad you’re alright. You worried me so much… You shouldn’t have just run off like that, why did you run off at all? Of all the places to find you... What were you doing out there?”
He opened his mouth to speak, his mind had begun searching for the answers right away, as if it knew where to find them, but all it found was empty space and a feeling of confusion. He hesitated, frowning slightly.
“Am I… I… Remember being in the snow. Did you save me? Why do I feel like.. I know you?”
The mare’s smile faded slowly, replaced again with concern.
“What do you mean? Why… Why wouldn’t I be familiar? You were just lying out there in the snow, wandering off on your own. I’d been looking for you for days! We need to get you back to Anchor.”
“Anchor..?” The stallion asked, still with that dazed expression.
The mare began to look more and more concerned before looking away from him, muttering to herself.
“She said this might happen… I didn’t think she meant like this. You… You don’t know who I am?”
The stallion looked apologetic at her distress, though he didn’t know what for. He shook his head. The mare looked back to him again.
“Do you know who -you- are..?”
The stallion froze, his mind suddenly screaming. His thoughts so riddled with pain and distress, how had he not even realised. Not only had he no idea how he came to be here, all his efforts to find any information about himself, his identity, turned up nothing. His gaze dropped as his eyes darted back and forth, as if he were looking through his own mind with them. His frown turned into a distraught and confused grimace as he spoke, his voice cracking slightly.
“No… No I don’t.”
The mare stroked his cheek softly, sighing as she did.
“Shh… Don’t worry… You’re safe here, your memories will come back eventually. Or… At least, that’s what she told me. My name is Snowfall, she said I shouldn’t tell you yours if you forgot. You have to remember some things on your own.”
The stallion still looked confused, though more at ease than he was. He looked downward for a moment, before returning his gaze to hers.
“What -can- you tell me?”
“Not all that much… “ Snowfall replied, laying down beside him. “But I can tell you that we’re in the North, the far North. You were born in Anchor, the other side of the mountains to where we are now. Try not to think on it too much now, it will only confuse you more. Rest for now.”
The stallion went to protest, opening his mouth to speak before she silenced him with a finger to his lips, her horn glowing softly as he felt a soothing warmth spread through him, accompanied by an intense tiredness. He closed his eyes, feeling her hand upon his cheek again as he let the feelings carry him off into sleep.
The stallion dreamed, if they could be described as dreams. Moments of clarity waxed and waned as he slept, memories moving and intertwining in all the wrong places. Images, sounds, smells that he recognised, all moving past him, and all too quickly. He could sense the fragments of those memories, he could feel the outline of the jigsaw of his memory, but where the pieces would not fit. A sudden bright flash rose from the mess, a memory of the mare. A memory of Snowfall. He could see her stood in front of a window, looking over a small town bustling with movement within the shadow of tall and jagged mountains. Another mare was stood beside her, looking at him. She looked almost identical to Snowfall, her mane a darker shade of blue. Her mouth moved, but no sounds came from it. He sensed another memory begin to surface… A vision of a taller stallion, a pegasus stood facing toward him. His coat a soft but darker grey, his mane pitch black and his eyes a bright electric blue. He saw these two scenes play in his mind in unison, of the two mares by the window and the curious stallion facing him. He began to walk towards the window, finding that as he did the stallion moved with him. He stopped, raising a hand, though it moved as if moving through water. The stallion’s hand also rose, confusing and assaulting his mind. He gazed around the small room behind him, finding the small furniture and paintings matched the ones the stallion was stood beside. That was -him-, but how… How was he seeing those mares, and himself. A thought pierced him with sudden intensity, he was seeing through both of their eyes. This strange stallion was him, and yet he was seeing himself through that other strange mare as well. Who was she, at Snowfall’s side… Why was he seeing through her eyes. His mind, it seemed, tired with questions, began to pull the dream apart. As he was pulled back toward wakefulness, his senses faded to nothing, all but a last whisper in a mare’s voice.
“Are you sure about this, Silver? You have to be sure, neither of us can go back once this is done.”
He sat up quickly, the blankets falling from him as he began panting heavily. A clatter of metal brought his attention to his side, where Snowfall was sat beside a cooking pot, suspended over smouldering embers. She had a hand to her chest, a startled look on her face. She soon relaxed, sighing in relief.
“Don’t do that! You terrified me.”
The stallion caught his breath before smiling awkwardly “Sorry, it was just a dream”
“What sort of dream?” The mare asked, turning back to the pot and stirring it idly.
The stallion looked confused “What do you mean what sort? It wasn’t a nightmare, if that’s what you’re asking. At least I don’t think it was.”
“Do you remember it? It might be important, you shouldn’t let it just slip away.”
The stallion looked down, thinking for a moment. “Yes… I think I remember my name. I was in a room… You were standing by another mare, she looked like you. Her mane was more, uh, blue. I want to say she’s your sister, but I don’t want it to be a guess. It just, seems right.”
The mare smiles warmly and nods. “Mhm! She is… was.”
“Was? Did something happen to her?”
The mare seemed to consider for a moment with a sad expression, before smiling again “She’s not what you or I might call… around anymore, but she’s not dead, or gone.”
The stallion looks confused at that, “What do you mean?”
“Nevermind.” The mare quickly says. “I think it might have been too much even to say that. So, you remember your name? Tell me.”
He lost himself in thought again, trying as hard as he could to remember the dream. It had begun to fade while he’d been listening to Snowfall, though he soon caught it before it faded completely.
“Silver?” He said with some hesitation, though his eyes lit up afterward as a piece of his memory fell into place. “Silver! My name is Silver Lining!”
The mare hung the stirring spoon on the pot and moved over to him, hugging him tightly “That’s it! I’m glad you’re starting to remember.”
Silver wrapped his arms around her and hugged back just as tightly, elated at his self discovery. He stopped for a moment, lifting his head before smiling brightly “And you’re cooking my favourite meal, aren’t you? The vegetable stew with those dumplings you make.”
Snowfall pulled back from the hug, looking confused. “That isn’t, I mean…” she looked down again with a smile, though there’s some sadness in it. “That was -her- favourite… You always liked the sweet pota-” She looks up suddenly with a look that was clear, she thought she’d said too much. She pulled away from him properly and went back over to the cooking pot, stirring again and clearing her throat.
He watched her go, a look of confusion and curiosity on his face. “Was it..? I… Could have sworn that it was… No, no you’re right. That was hers. What does that mean..?”
“I can’t tell you.” she says quickly. “Just try and relax now, alright? For me? You can think more when we get back to Anchor.”
Silver reluctantly nodded “Alright, I’ll try not to. When will we go back?”
“We’ll start travelling tomorrow morning, the wind should break for long enough to give us a comfortable pass through the mountains.”
He nodded again at that, resting back as he tried to relax. The smell of the food teased at the memory from before. He was certain that memory was right, it felt right. It -was- his favourite, but… At the same time, he was certain that it wasn’t. How could he be certain of both, maybe he was simply too confused by his memories slowly returning. After all, he distinctly remembered the pain of his injuries, the warmth of the blood leaking from his side, but now there was no trace of pain or injury at all. Whatever it was, he had an identity again, even if it was the most basic. He smiled to himself as he recalled his name, Snowd-. His mind locked up at that moment, the cogs of his thoughts seizing up violently for a moment before loosening with another wave of confusion. Silver. His name was Silver Lining.
The first light of the morning had only just begun to light the frozen wastes outside when they left the tent, opting to leave it rather than carry the extra weight. The mountains still cast long shadows over the windswept hardpack of snow, though the air was now still, the sky the washed out blue of early morning. Silver was deep in thought as he began trudging along, a foot occasionally breaking through and into the soft snow beneath. Time had begun to seem fast to him. A high pitched whine had slipped into his hearing, along with a faint sense of urgency he couldn’t explain, as if the world were slowly speeding up around him, a river flowing ever closer and ever faster to a roaring waterfall. Snowfall walked beside him, light enough to pierce the brittle shell underfoot. Even so she slowed to remain at his side. She glanced to him every now and then, not saying a word. He noticed these glances, eventually looking to her worriedly.
“Is… Everything alright?” he asked quietly.
She quickly looked away, continuing to walk on with him. “Sorry, I was just… You hardly said anything all morning”
Silver sighed softly, looking up at the slowly brightening sky. “I’ve had a lot to think about. I keep feeling like my memories are just there, under the surface. Even if I were sure those memories were real, I can’t get to them yet.”
Snowfall listened, watching his face carefully as he spoke. She opened her mouth as if to speak, before suddenly doubling over and holding her stomach. Silver stopped immediately, supporting her with a hand as he looked over her worriedly “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Snowfall took his hand delicately and stood upright again, letting out a slow breath. “I’m fine, it’s nothing. Just a… A bad time of the month to be trekking through these mountains in the cold.”
Silver knew she was lying, he felt it somehow, some part of a memory that still refused to fully surface. He went to protest, before deciding against it, smiling warmly. “Ah, alright. Are you going to be ok? We can always wait a few more days bef-”
Snowfall quickly cut him off “No, no we need to get back. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. The weather will hold, we need to keep our pace to make it over the mountains before sunset.”
Silver looked over to the mountains, the low slopes of their base now very near. “Alright, but if you hurt again you tell me straight away. Promise me.”
She looked down, “We can’t waste time, we have to-“ she hesitated when she caught his eye, holding his gaze for a moment. “Alright, I promise”
The rest of their journey ascending the mountains was uneventful, no misfortune or misstep to hinder their progress. When they reached the top however, it became clear that something was wrong. Snowfall began looking around frantically over the peaks that stretched in a thin line either side of them.
“The snows have shifted so much since before… The path shouldn’t be covered this deep for another month yet.”
“How long will it take for us without the path?” he asked worriedly.
“Too long, I don’t have the supplies to last us, even if we turned back to the tent.”
Silver looked back the way they’d come, then to Snowfall. Her face was one of intense worry, her eyes looking back and forth between the snow covered valleys and ridges as if she could find some secret, easier path there that would save them. He took his pack off, setting it down in the snow as he began to unzip his jacket. Snowdrift looked at him with worried curiosity.
“What are you doing?”
“We don’t need any of these things if we can make it to town without them, right? I have wings, and we’re already up high enough for me to fly us down without much effort.”
“In this cold?” She asked with a disbelieving look.
“A little frostbite is better than the alternative should we not make it down in time.”
“Can you even carry me that far?”
“Without the sacks, yes, I don’t have to make a climb up to any height, we’ve already climbed it together. This isn’t an argument, this is what we’re doing. Take anything you need out of the rucksacks, leave everything else.”
Snowfall looked around hesitantly, then nodded slightly and began to take off her rucksack. Silver removed his outer coat, his wings folded within stretching out wide, though he could already feel the holes in his under layers made to fit his wings letting in the cold. He took a deep breath, the mist of his exhale whipped away on the wind.
“Are you ready?”
Snowfall nodded, standing in front of him as she reached up with her arms, wrapping them around his neck. He bent a little, picking her up and into his arms carefully, holding her firmly.
“Keep holding on tight, if your arms get too tired, tell me so that we can land.”
She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder and against his neck, burying her muzzle there in the warmth. He took a moment to adjust his hold to be as comfortable as possible, and to beat his wings a few times to warm the muscles involved. After a few more moments of hesitation, he took off with a powerful downbeat of those wings, the snow flying around them as the downdraft whipped up the white powder, the crystals of ice shining like diamonds in the air around them. He soon found a steady rhythm, working twice as hard to keep the both of them airborne as he began to work his way into a downward glide, slowly picking up enough speed to carry the weight along without descending too quickly. Snowfall kept her muzzle pressed against his neck, terrified of the sudden change in pace, though soon relaxing as she focused on his presence, his scent, rather than the rushing of the air and the frequent feeling of weightlessness. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him a little more tightly as she did. Talking was impossible, the rush of the wind far too loud, though words were unneeded.
They flew in comfortable silence, other than the howling wind and the strange combination of sharp and dull pain that came with the cold spreading over his back. After what seemed many hours, but in reality was only one, Silver settled down on the snow before a small village, Anchor. He gently lowered Snowfall, shivering heavily as his wings twitched, near frozen and exhausted. She gently ran her hands over them, trying to warm them as Silver groaned sharply under his breath. She looked back to him with concern, taking his hand and leading him quickly over to the houses there. The town was set on the flats of a frozen lake edge, the lake itself covered in snow. Only around twenty or so buildings were lined up in a neat row around it’s edge, most of them beginning to show signs of life as lights were turned on within, the brightness of the day beginning to fade into the strange half-light of the tundra. Snowfall lead him over to one of those houses, still dark within, one that he recognised. She turned the handle, the door already unlocked as it swung inward, motes of dust hanging in the still, stale air.
He began to walk as if in a dream, through the entrance to the house and into the small, open downstairs area. Snowfall began to wrap him up in blankets as he walked, watching him carefully but not stopping him. His legs began to feel heavier, as if he were wading through mud, the weight of something tremendous pressing in on him. He looked around, only vaguely registering the returning warmth to his back, and the intense pain that came with it. A window faced out onto the village, the same window from his dream where they had all been stood. He stumbled, reaching out to steady himself on a table as a photo frame fell from it. It landed face up, the faces of himself, Snowfall, and her mysterious sister looking up at him. The three were stood in front of a huge stone slab, complex runes and markings carved into it, Silver in the middle, and the two mares either side of him. He looked at it a moment longer, that weight from before pushing in harder and harder. His vision blurred, the world spinning as he retched, his empty stomach only burning his throat with bile. He could hear Snowfall’s voice echoing as if from far away, black curtains closing around his vision. He slumped to the floor, knocking the rest of the table over with him as Snowfall tried, and failed, to keep him upright. She looked around, worried but not panicked, dragging him over to a sofa and resting him down on his back, finding blankets to cover him with. Silver’s body had already begun to heal, however, the frostbitten flesh on his back already shedding and being replaced, but his mind was in a far, far worse state. He dreamt again, but this time the dream had blinding clarity, a realism as if he were living through the experience, and control was entirely out of his hands.