The Windigo

by -Hidden Identity-

17

Day 17:
What a peaceful night. Surprisingly enough, the hole that I slept in was decently warm, warm enough that I actually didn’t want to get up this morning. However, the sight of strange tracks around the hole was enough to move me. I do not know if Peers knew where I was, or just passed by several times. Either way, it was time to move. It was light enough when I found my hole to see the surrounding, and more importantly, what landmarks lay north of me, as it would be all too easy to lose my way. In the morning, however, the immediate scenery had not changed. It’s strange, I feel, in a way, that this is a new journey. Behind me lay the cliff, Eastern Field, Outer Centre, Inner Centre, the Briar Sanctum, and the areas of the forest I do not yet know the names of. But I am above all of that now. I had made my ascent, and now I walk upon an elevated level of forest. Is this not a new beginning? Yet, the closer I come to my escape, the harder my pursuer will try to stop me I fear. It has had so many chances to end my journey, to stop me from going any further and yet it does not. Why is this? I am both eager to know, and fearful of the answer.

I know that I have said this on some previous date, but it is staggering to think that is has only been seventeen days since we set out. Too long, granted, but yet not an abundance of time. I now know that great events do not need a lot of time to occur. Anything from the fall of a great kingdom, to the death of a loved one can, and will, occur in the blink of an eye. So which controls which, time or events?

It is strangely beautiful in this new region of the forest. I do not know if I am still in the Outer Centre, but every essence of my being tells me that I am someplace new. The colors of the trees have turned exceptionally vivid, and everything here seems full of life and energy: a haven or a natural sanctuary. The sun has melted any snow that may have lay up here, and the only dead plants are few and far between. I have only been walking for a few hours, and yet I have found no less than five streams to refill my water supply, and I would be much more willing to gamble if I should eat the plants here. This extraordinary area is perfectly silent, save for my own motions. No wind disturbs the trees, and no animals of any kind, again save myself, walk within this serene temple. I wonder if I am an intruder here, perhaps this is a place where ponies were not meant to go, a lost place of the Everfree. I know that my own opinion of this forest will be changed by my visit to this place. Between the various sections of darkness, a small golden light hides.

Ah, it seems that I am not the first pony to visit here, but I am the first in a long while. I have found what appears to be some type of ruins. Where they came from, who built them, or what age they are I have no idea, but it is clear that they are quite old. They are not the civilizations of legend, though. No they are quite simple: basic stone, quite small in size, and have no elaborate carvings or symbols upon them as any pony who dream about such things imagine. All of reason tells me to keep going, that I must reach the field soon and without delay, but I do not think that Peers would dare enter this place. Everything about it radiates an ancient sense of calm. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to live as Host once did, a hermit in his own world. No pony would ever know what became of me, this is true; but is there a chance that that is, in fact, not enough of a cost to make me continue?

This lost city, hidden within a natural temple of light and trees, must obey the laws of time though. I have found a cemetery deep within. It is in a gloomier spot, the darkest I have seen yet within this place, and gives me a strange feeling, mainly because there is an open grave dead center of the graveyard. The headstone is blank, and the earth all around is hardened, so it could not have been dug recently. As for the rest of the graves, all of the names have been worn away. This open grave is both foreboding and inviting, a combination for those who have given up hope, or want to.

I have broken open one of my pens, and used the ink to write my own name upon the blank headstone. I shall be buried here someday.

I have decided to stay here for at least one night, and tomorrow see if it really is worth going back. While I am here I am in safety, and it is obvious that the moment I leave this place I will be plunged back into a constant struggle against the darkness, and Peers. I give up; it is impossible to refer to it as anything else but “Peers”. I’m sorry my friend, but I have known this terror through your name for too long to know it as anything else. My mind is too weak to grasp it any other way.

I have found one building that does have some sort of symbols carved on the inside of the walls. The pictures are elaborate and cryptic enough that I cannot decipher them. A couple of the hieroglyphs are guessable, but their message means nothing to me. It is impressive though that these have lasted while everything else crumbled. This building is overgrown with creeping ivy and other types of plant life, taking back what ponies occupied. It really puts things in perspective, that even though we feel very accomplished in our feats of society, whether it be engineering, invention, magic, or politics, some day a natural temple will come and turn Equestria into a lost city for other ponies to come and wonder at. Will they even come?

Night is falling, and I feel no need to seek out some sort of shelter. The stars and moon are just beginning to appear through the majestic purple and red sunset in the west. The trees are blocking much of the spectacle, but a vast majority of my sky is lit up in color. I doubt that any other part of Equestria has the ability to witness this sight. I doubt that any other part of Equestria would want to.

Cath Wintergreen Amber

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During the search the area described in this entry was found. There is a scattering of ruined buildings about, but it is far from being a city. The building containing the hieroglyphs does indeed exist, and ponies who are experts in this particular field deciphered some as a description of Discord himself. Ideally this would give us an approximate age of the ruins, but there is much speculation that these particular carvings are no more than passed down history.

This entry is the first since day one that Cath has a happier tone in his writing.

Comments

[Balancer]

Celestia damn you, stop giving us hope we all know how this will end

[-Hidden Identity-]

218321 Perhaps...

[That_one_guy]

The calm before the storm.

[Rizu-Chan]

Oh Celestia and Luna, I cannot stop reading this. I keep hoping, above all logic and reasoning, that somehow Cath will make it out alive. But that's impossible... right?

[KillerSteel]

And so the nightmare continues. Really gives insight on what proper grimdark should be; just another guy wandering through the night, something chasing after him, coming up in spots, fear creeping into his heart as he embraces the inevitable.

Hopefully I can attain this quality of writing someday as well. Guess I'll just have to keep trying until I do.