The Little Black Box
She walked endlessly through the green, sleepy forest with a sense of purpose. No memories of who she was or what her reason for being here was, but she walked on. Somewhere, there was a place where her memories were contained, and she would find it. She would find it. She would find it, whether it took twenty minutes or twenty years. She did not know how long she had been in this vestibule, but she was going to find it. The days passed by as a blur, only occasionally interrupted by a necessity to sit down and think, and to meditate on her own reality. She had sat for hours, thinking of her name, trying desperately to find it. Always seeking, never finding, that was her life now. If she only knew it, she was certain that all her memories would be nearby, waiting for her. If only she knew her own name.
After many days had passed, whether it was months, years, centuries, or even millennia she would never know, she found something within the endless trees. The calm, peaceful meadow ahead of her was something she had never seen in her tireless wandering. The bright morning dew on the grass beckoned to her, and the gentle brook passing through gurgled with a dignified, serene calm. She knew that she was finally nearing her destination, that she was ever closer to her distant goal. There was something familiar about this place, something that she could barely understand. She stood staring at it for quite a long time before she remembered what she was searching for. She had a brief double take as she considered the reality of the situation. She had spent so many days searching, yet she felt no hunger, thirst, or tiredness. Time itself was irrelevant, and she knew it. What scared her most was the knowing that it didn’t bother her, and the knowledge that it should.
She strode calmly into the meadow, her hooves gently touching the soft, downy grass. She paused for a moment to examine the length of her legs. There were four of them and they ended in hooves. She wondered why it had never occurred to her to look at her own body. Was it really that hard to think of? She looked up, and decided that the brook ahead of her might be a great place to view her own face, she what she really was. As she traipsed towards it, she ignored everything else. She had to know. As she neared the little stream, she slowed down, wondering what she was thinking. Did it really matter if she saw herself? What would she accomplish?
She gazed into the gently flowing brook, and nearly gasped at what she saw. She had a horn for one thing, and a lavender colored coat. Her main was bedraggled, and pretty darn filthy. But none of this mattered. She remembered her name! After so many times of searching, nearly endless hours of seeking something that was ever just outside her sight, she had found it! She looked around the clearing with almost insatiable glee.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she said. “I know my name.”
Another month passed by, but that didn’t mean much of anything. Twilight knew that this place was near her true destination, so she never wandered too far from it. She spent most of her time simply sitting by the stream, trying to see if there was anything else she could remember. She even wondered why she couldn’t remember anything. After all, there was no physical harm on any visible place on her body. Of course, when she thought about it, why didn’t she need to eat? Why was she never asleep, and why, Why, WHY did it always remain day time here?! She nearly stumbled on her walk when this finally occurred to her. It was always day!! In fact, it was just about always morning. It was as if time itself didn’t exist. As if she was stuck in a single flow of time, never aging or growing more exhausted.
Twilight summoned up the best of the student in her, prepared for Celestia’s test. For the third time, this caused Twilight to pause. How did she remember this name, and who was that? How did she know that she was a student, and what really was a student, anyway? She realized that she was digressing from her original thoughts. This matter was dire, and maybe the solution to her problem remained on the other side. Twilight took the time to truly think about it. How did she know that days were passing when the sun remained constantly in the same fixed position? How come she didn’t sleep, and what was time really if all that existed was movement? The answer to this question was nearly impossible to derive, especially when she considered the fact that she couldn’t even remember what she had before. She sat down confused, and attempted to contemplate some more.
As time continued to pass, or at least seemed to, Twilight managed to explore farther and farther from the meadow that she had been lying in for so long now. It was only the beginning, she realized. There were many places in whatever world she was in, and she doubted that she was ever going to see truly everything. Parts of these woods became as easy to recognize as the back of her own hoof, and yet, it seemed truly endless. There was no border on this forest, only trees and a single, lonely clearing. What this could possibly mean, she didn’t know. No matter how many miles she traveled, no matter how familiar she grew with the vast landscape, she still didn’t manage to reach an end to it.
It didn’t take too many centuries, she had a feeling that that was accurate to “time” here, she finally reached a conclusion. Since the trees were unending and altogether similar, she should instead follow something more unique. So she decided to follow the stream. She followed the bubbling brook down its ever bending course. It traveled for miles, into the trees and down into cascading waterfalls. “Time” continued to flow, and Twilight ignored everything but her simple goal to follow it. There was no was that this stream wouldn’t end somewhere. It was only a matter of time before she found its end, and when she did, she was going to savor every moment.
Despite her expectations, the stream didn’t end, nor did any other stream join it to make a river. All in all, the lavender unicorn was wasting her time. No matter how far they traveled, the stream always outdistanced her, and it traveled on into the horizon without her. Twilight headed back to her meadow, yes she now considered it hers, and spent “years” reaching it. She plopped down rather hard, and tried to figure out why the stream was endless. Obviously, she had traveled thousands of miles, and all streams travel downhill. Such a stream should have ended long before she gave up, as should the forest. Of course, so should the days themselves. Logic from wherever she came from was definitely out the window.
So she decided to follow the stream again, only against the current. After all, it should have a source somewhere. Of course, that didn’t mean that it would, all things considered. However, she figured that she might as well try. There really wasn’t that much to lose. Twilight thought about how much time had passed here, if “time” really existed. Obviously, she would have died long ago if it did, but that doesn’t make her perception of it disappear. It only mattered that she have at least some sort of way of keeping at least some kind of way to track it. She understood that she would find her destination sooner or later anyway. She had yet to die, and was therefore limitless in that account. However, this wouldn’t stop it from taking ages to reach.
On one fateful “morning”, she found a saddlebag lying against a stump by this “river”. It was truly worn and tattered, the only thing around to have seen the effects of time. Or, perhaps, it had always been this way, she would never know. Twilight couldn’t resist the urge to peer into it, no matter how much she tried. Why was she so intent on not looking inside of it? Not like there were other ponies to think of. That gave her pause as she thought about it. Maybe this belonged to whoever Celestia was. Again, she wondered about that.
Twilight opened the bags, only to find one single item. A key, about the size of her hoof in length, rested inside these old tattered bags. The key was golden and delicate, made more for looks than purpose as far as Twilight could guess. It even had a gorgeous red ribbon strung through the far end. She tried to think about whether or not it would be wrong to take this key. Obviously, she had yet to meet another pony, and therefore any issue with theft did not exist. And yet, taking such a beautiful item would feel wrong. But in the end, Twilight caved in and placed the key with its fair ribbon around her neck. Well, she really didn’t care that it didn’t suit her coloring, the key looked great anyway. So she moved on.
If time had a specific count, it would have been millennia, even eons of her being here. But time wasn’t in effect, and so she was free of such worries. If it took a thousand years to reach the source, she would do it. She had no hope for anything save this one single goal; find the destination, no matter what. And so she did. Years passed by as if they were but minutes, always going by in a sort of blur, a lack of sense of time began to ensue. She was growing older, not physically, but mentally. Twilight lost any sort of count in time, and the hours passed by like mere minutes, even seconds. Of course, that’s a time really is. What is an eon but years, and years but days, days but hour, hours but minutes, and minutes but mere seconds? Time no longer mattered, not to someone who was for all intents and purposes, immortal.
It was only when this perception began that Twilight found the source of the stream. Of course, the source did not follow her original perception of logic. The stream headed to a waterfall that fell from a great cliff, only to come crashing down onto the rocks and create a substantial pond and some thick mist. In the middle of this pond was a rock and on that rock was a box. A tiny black box.
Twilight didn’t know what to expect. A sense of arrival had finally struck her. This was her destination, a place she had sought after for longer than she could possibly remember. Only the knowledge of its importance kept her fixated on it. So she swam over to the rock, and climbed up onto it. The box was rather plain and insignificant in appearance, and yet she somehow knew that it contained something dear to her. Her memories, she figured. The little key around her neck suddenly had a new purpose. Twilight opened the box, and there was only pain.
Twilight was in a daze, but it was coming back to her now. All her life flashed before her eyes, from her birth and early childhood, to her friends and new life in Ponyville. Her memories had returned. She attempted to get onto her hooves, only to collapse in a daze. Her vision was slowly returning, but everything was still a blur. At least the pain was subsiding.
“Take it easy, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia said. Yes, she remembered who Celestia was now. How strange, all of this truly was. “You are not quite yet recovered.”
“What happened to me? It feels like I’ve been gone for eons, and yet you’re still here,” Twilight replied. “Was this a test?”
“No, my student, this was a lesson. I sent your mind into a vestibule, where time itself does not exist. I had hoped for you to learn how to find your destination without any sort of magic, and for you to have returned, you have found it. As far as time has gone, two minutes have passed since I sent you there.”
“But I have spent countless hours there. Did time even exist?” Twilight asked.
“No, I stopped your perception of it, so all experiences were instantaneous. If it truly took you eons to escape, then so be it. After all, no time means an escape was inevitable, but vital. What have you learned from this?”
Twilight looked around her, taking in everything she had unknowingly missed for so long. “I understand immortality, for starters. All goals outside of the mortal world can be reached if I only am willing to take the time to reach them.”
“Excellent. You have always been quick to understand, Twilight. You have become ready for your next lesson, but we will save that until tomorrow. For now, grow adjusted to your return.” Celestia watched Twilight leave the room, a somewhat confused look on her face. This didn’t particularly bother Celestia; she had had the same look on her face when she had received a similar lesson a couple of millennia ago. She sighed.
“Rest easy, my little alicorn.”