Book 1 - The Behemoth came to Canterlot

by Equimorto

Blind

Walking. No sounds, no vision, just the knowledge of walking somewhere. Instructions, maybe, maybe not. Orders to follow, but after all she'd been doing that most of her life. Her memories blurring to resemble her reality. For reasons she could no longer recall, she didn't mind. Was it nothing she was seeing, or just shadows and darkness? She couldn't tell.

Moving faster. Her body, not her hooves, not her legs. Being moved. Lying down? Maybe. Not being dragged. It didn't hurt. She felt artificially tired. Was it like being drunk, or drugged? She'd never experienced it, but she'd seen it. On soldiers? She didn't know what to do with that last bit of info, where to fit it. Maybe it would be discarded too.

A light. Her last somewhat clear memory. Green, small, sudden but not violent. Welcoming? Cold, but not unpleasant. Then darkness. She could not hear, she could not see. She could not feel at times. She was moving, or being moved, at times incredibly fast she felt. She was tired.

A name? It didn't matter. She would remember it, later, something told her. She listened, and she didn't have a choice, and she didn't worry about it. She couldn't worry about it, and that too she could not worry about. But she felt no longing for the things she'd lost. One pony, maybe. Two ponies, but one was different. One she'd lost long before, she'd miss them where she was going as she'd missed them where she'd been. The other? Gone. Yet close. Something of a loose end, the details absent. Regret, vague, unplaced. Acceptance. Something she'd always known, and knew they'd known too.

Moving. Not just in space. Memories left behind like the place she was carried away from. Hate. She didn't like that place. She'd never liked that place. Cold. The cold of the darkness was different. It was dry. It was soft. Welcoming? Maybe not. Better than the cold she was leaving.

Agreement? Would she had agreed to leave like that? Had she done so in the first place? It didn't matter. She agreed with it again. Something was there. Something understood, and acknowledged. Something dark, and cold, carrying her away. No colours still, and no sounds, but an understanding. A presence felt. No malice, no harm meant or caused. Different for some reason from what she was used to, yet familiar in other ways. Ways she couldn't place in her memory. Things she couldn't remember.

Away. She was leaving pain behind. That she did not mind. She was leaving memories behind. That she did mind. But the price of her memories was worth the freedom from her pain. Regret, measured. Acceptance, again. Cold, but a warmer cold than the cold she left behind.

Tiredness. Artificial, but real nonetheless. Sleep? Sleep. No point in fighting it. The thing with her wished her no harm, and her darkened reality gave her no reason to remain awake. Sleep then. Memories lost. Pain lost. A bittersweet outcome, but not one she could disagree with. Hope. She fell asleep, in unsilent colourful dreams.

Comments

[Speckle]

I have no idea if this is Luna or Starlight and I am very spooked/worried/yikes! regardless.