We Are Born From The Mist

by NeverEatTheLemonsAlone

XVIII

Panting, Thunder continued to hack his way through the thick forest. The unyielding trunks had grown thicker and denser, towering above him and nearly blotting out the sun with fluid green shades that blurred in the breeze. He’d made it a good few kilometers, enough to call it a day on this kind of terrain. Still he refused to cease, doggedly pushing his way through the undergrowth towards the north.

Ding

The sound was so utterly unexpected that he nearly fell over. His ears twitched as he searched for the origin of the mysterious noise, an almost chime-like ringing. It had faded as quickly as it had appeared, though, and nothing could be seen or heard that was out of the ordinary of the forest. Somewhat cautiously, Thunder once more slashed his way through the woods, a bit slower this time. A trail of severed branches and snapped twigs stretched behind him for miles. His ears panned around as he went, constantly searching for the elusive sound. Unfortunately, there was nothing. No sounds, no sights; the forest had seemingly returned to normal.

Ding

Temper flaring, Thunder whipped around, teeth bared in a snarl. Casting one last angry glance at the mountains ahead of him, he stomped off towards the east, which, as best as he could tell, was the source of the noise. As he went, the forest grew denser, if possible. It reached a moment when the trees were so tightly packed it was a wonder that they were even still alive; he could barely slide between them. Whirling his claymore about him in broad, sweeping arcs, he shredded anything that blocked his path. The only things that could stop or redirect him were full-sized trees. Finally, in front of him loomed what looked like a solid wall of trees that extended away from him in a gentle curve. From almost directly beyond it, there came a sound:

Ding

Wearing a nearly predatory grin, Thunder paced along the wall. It curved around in a full circle, sporting a heavy wooden door, many times the stallion’s height, on the opposite side. Calming himself down, he breathed deeply several times, then readied his sword, preparing for whatever may lie beyond as he knocked on the gate.

“Please, do come in!”

Whatever he expected, that wasn’t it.

Cautiously, he nudged the huge wooden construct out of the way, revealing a sunlit clearing with a perfect view of the sky. Any branches that may have obstructed the light had been sliced away, presumably to make the small shack that stood just to his right. In the center of the clearing sat…a pony.

She was a young earth pony mare, but old enough to be fully grown, looking up with a small smile on her muzzle. There wasn’t really anything around her; she seemed to simply be staring at the sky. Thunder slowly trotted up to her, curious. “…Hello there.”

The faint smile remained on her face and she refused to turn her head, still simply staring at the sky. “Hello I bid to you. What your name be, pony of yellow?” Thunder jolted somewhat. He would’ve been willing to bet that he was too far outside of her line of sight to be seen. Before he could respond, she chuckled, a low, melodic sound. “Ah, your thoughts I see like the yellow. Things I see that I shouldn’t. Put off you should not be.”

The stallion walked closer somewhat warily, but responded to her original question. “M' name is Thunderbird. Most ponies call me Thunder, though.”

The mare nodded slightly. “Yesss. The skies told me you would come, they did. They tell that I am to speak with you. Sky Watcher, the only title that I have known is.” It took Thunder a moment to parse her odd speech, and quite honestly, it left him with more questions than answers.

“Th' skies? Ya said that th' skies told ya?”

She nodded slowly. “The skies, yes. The skies I watch, for they have no other watchers. You travel to the Cold Lands, they say. Into the curtains of the snow-shine. They say you search for the Hurricane.”

Thunder jolted. How could she possibly know that? Sky Watcher smiled wider, finally dropping her white head from the sky. Her eyes met his and their brilliance struck him, the same color as her mane. It was a sharp, icy blue, the color of the sky at dawn. They flashed in the light, the sun shimmering in them, and she continued. “Told you did I, the skies speak at me. All about you is told to me. Your wife I see, and your daughter too, little Fire.”

He began to feel slightly irritated, almost threatened, and his voice dropped to a growl. “An' wha’s that supposed ta mean? Ya stay away from me family!” The white pony laughed lightly.

“Sorry I am. Nothing like that I intended. Please, forgiveness grant me. Simply meant I to convince you that speak to me the skies do.”

Ding

The sound returned, this time resounding all around Thunder. It was truly loud in the confined space. The smile dropped from Sky’s face as her face snapped back up to the sky. Thunder frowned.

“I’ve been hearin' that sound since th' morning, when I reached the denser parts of the forest. What is it?”

Ding

Sky stiffened and stopped moving. She didn’t merely stand in one place; she completely froze. Her chest stilled, breath gone. Her eyes pulsed with intense white light that diffused around the clearing.

Minutes later, with a third Ding, the brilliance dimmed away, leaving her eyes normal once more. She exhaled shakily. “Forgive me. The sky requested me to attend it. That sound heard by you is the sky for me asking to listen.”

Thunder stared, slack-jawed. I truly did she was crazy, but it looks like something really does speak to her. Just who is Sky Watcher?