Zenith Part 3: Adventure and Exploration

Hot.

Why’s it so hot?

It’s really -rather- hot!

 

You roll over. And wet, and noisy!

 

The light of an early morning sun shines through your eyelids, and light breeze brushes past your cheek. You squirm, stretching out your front legs, but something stops them; a cloth wrapped tightly around you. It crinkles loudly when you move, and the inside feels wet and crumpled against your hooves. Your tail is bound uncomfortable tightly against your hind legs, and your coat is matted with moisture all over.

 

You open your eyes and are greeted by the sight of a barely risen sun and a cool blue lake surrounded by cliffs and flowered fields. You see that you are wrapped in layers of cloth, then a shiny crinkly material, then even more cloth. The noisy silvered layer is wet on the inside, soaking the cloth wrapped most closely around you. The whole thing is really, uncomfortably, unreasonably, hot!

 

You frustratedly squirm harder, but the layers of material restrict your movement, and your legs don't seem to want to do what you tell them. Dumb fabric! You add a bit of magical force to your struggles, your horn aglow with energy, and are rewarded with a slight popping sound as threads snap under your pressure. Grunting and doubling the force rips the most inward clothes apart, then shreds reflective crunchy stuff, then finally sunders the thick outer fabric, freeing you from your roasting dungeon. Ahhh, that's more like it!

 

You stand up on all four legs, shaky for a second, but feeling much better as the light wind cools you and dries your coat. All around you strange objects are strewn haphazardly; a large bag of some sort with straps all over it, smaller bags filled with unknown objects, some of which seem to be foods, and many small clear bags containing various odds and ends. A quick sniff at the food bags makes you think twice about eating them; they all smell like they’ve been left out a little too long, even the one that smells like oats and dried fruit of some kind seems... weird. You catch a horrible stench coming from a metal cylinder on a rock nearby, and you -know- you don't want to open -that-. You’re not sure what most of the rest of it is, but before you can think on it too long a small whine and bright flash steal your attention. It came from the grass a short distance away, and you move to investigate.

 

Nestled in the thick grass is a strange orange object, not quite a hoofs width across, with red markings on it. A small clear section on one end draws your gaze as it bends the light in rather odd ways. As you peer down at it closer you hear a small whine slowly getting louder before *Flash!*

 

Aughh, right in the eye! You pick the small object up your magic and fling it forcefully behind you, sending it careening clear over the cliff, and like the water it falls alongside, smashing to the rocks below.

 

You sigh, almost immediately regret being so hasty, that thing seemed important for some reason, maybe a relic of some sort? Certainly something worth cataloguing in any case. You were just short tempered on account of that fiasco when you woke up. Maybe some morning exercise would get you into a better mood, and this mountain air was ever so invigorating! Heading off around the lake’s edge at a trot you feel the comforting impact of your hooves against the stone and soil, and relax immensely.

 

This was indeed -exactly- what the doctor ordered.

 

Your trot quickly gives way to a canter, which in turn yields to a gallop as you feel the wind whipping through your main and tail. Cool air fills your lungs, the warm smell of wildflowers light on the breeze, and you lose yourself for a while to the simple joy of the run. You can’t remember the last time you felt so alive!

 

As you slow your pace you see that you’ve made it about halfway around the wide lake, and approach the shore for a quick drink. You bend your head down to the crystal clear water gently lapping against the granite slab, and catch your reflection in the water’s surface. Your two tone blue mane is a bit disheveled both from your entrapment this morning and from the run. It hangs at odd angles around your orange horn. Your coat doesn't look much better; it's dry, but still rather matted. You're looking down through the water’s surface to the unicorn peering up at you from the other side, his eyes searching your features for... something.

 

Something about your eyes sparks an odd feeling of discomfort within you. You shake your head and blink a few times, trying to clear the sense of strangeness, but to no avail. You step forward to where the water is a few hooves deep, then dip your head to drink, closing your eyes to avoid your own gaze.

 

The water is cold, clean, and refreshing as it slides down your throat, and you drink deeply. Ahhh, must have lost more fluids than you thought, how much did you sweat out before waking up? Your thirst slated, you reopen your eyes, once again peering down into your their reflections, and once again getting that strange feeling in your gut. Grrr, you were trying to relax and this was -not- helping. You stamp your front hoof down on the reflection, splashing some of the cool water onto your chest. Hm, there was an idea...

 

You back up from the shore several paces, paw the ground a few times for effect, and charge at full speed, leaping forward as you enter the water. For an instant you’re flying through the air, water droplets suspended beside you, catching the rays of the sun. With a resounding splash the moment is over, and you’re submerged in the lakes chilly depths. Whooa! That’s bit on the cold side! Nice though, no two ways about it.

 

You quickly start treading water to retake the surface, gasping slightly for breath when you do. Left fore leg and right hind leg, right fore leg and left hind leg, back and forth, back and forth. The easy stroke carries you around the lake’s surface, and you feel the water rinsing the dried sweat from your mane, coat, and tail. You dip your head beneath the water a few times, shaking it vigorously as you do, making sure your forelock is clean too.

 

You see some fish swimming amongst the large boulders resting on the bottom of the clear lake, and dive down toward them, eyes open. The view through the water is blurry, but you see them dart away as you swim over them. Heh, silly fishies. Water’s kinda cold down here though... maybe that’s enough swimming for today. You come back up to the surface, and paddle in to shore.

 

Oh, yeah, definitely was enough, brrr. Water streams from your fur and hair as you exit the lake, the slight breeze now a little too chilly for comfort. The cold and wet triggers a reflexive shake to run down your body, and you set about using your magic to press the water off of you, working through your mane, then coat, and finally, tail. Now merely damp instead of drenched you trot over to a nice dark colored granite slab, free of dirt, and plop down, ready to bask in the sun on the warm stone. Between the birds chirping, the warm mid-morning sun, and the post-exercise relaxation, you gently drift off into a nap.

 

“Whup whup whup whup whup whup-”

 

An odd rhythmic sound wakes you from your light sleep, it seems to be coming from overhead, and a ways down the valley, from a location somewhere over the western ridge. You tilt your ears towards the sound, trying to figure out what it might be. All you get is the return of that strange feeling in your gut. It was almost like deja vu, but not quite.

 

Either way, you decide you don’t much care for this interruption to your nap, and stand up to find a quieter spot. Behind you and to the north the twin mountains rise steeply; the lakes mildly sloped shore quickly climbing to a rough rock face. But to the east is a nice grassy plain, rising gently upwards to bridge over to the next valley. Scattered bushes dot its green hills along with the most alluring selection of flowers, and you realize you are in fact, rather hungry.

 

Ignoring the constant ‘whupping’ that drifts back and forth over the far ridge you make your way up the eastern rise. You stop to try a tuft of the thick green grass, it’s alright, if a little tough, but you assume that it probably has to be to grow all the way up here. The same goes for the shrubs, but they did have a hint of some herb-like taste to them. Finally you close in on a patch of yellow and white blooms, growing on stalks to about knee height. You gingerly nip one of the blossoms from its stem, and slowly bit down into it, savoring the taste.

 

Oh, Buck. The Hell. Yes.

 

Off the top of your head the only thing you can think of that’s tastier is... nothing! And since there appears to be such an abundance of them... Om nom nom nom! The poor things never stood a chance. You walk away from the deflowered patch of hillside feeling very satisfied, and continue grazing lightly up the slope, nibbling at the different colored flowers and relishing each new flavor; lost in this world of deliciousness. The sun reaches its apex, and begins to droop toward the horizon, measuring out each step up the hill by inching ever closer to its time of rest.

 

Behind you in the distance a helicopter circles over the messy remains of your camp, the sound of its blades drowned out by steady munching as you move from one brightly colored flower patch to another. It’s painted a jarring red, with the word ‘RESCUE’ stenciled on its side in large white lettering. It circles the camp for some time, before slowly expanding its path. It once dips down to hover over the small pool at the bottom of the falls, but after a few minutes it rises and resumes its slowly expanding circuit of the area, all without notice.

 

Having reached level terrain, and quite happy with the food in your belly, you start to wander around the large, and unusually lush, mountain pass that provided your meal. Across its wide expanse you can see several rocks, ranging from about three to thirty times your height, jutting upward through the verdant landscape, and even several widely spaced deciduous trees in what seems to be a rough line, their large round forms promising shade. That annoying ‘whup whup whup’ fades in and out behind you, and resolve yourself to ignoring it, along with the feeling it brings.

 

You make your way over to the nearest boulder, a big one, and take a moment to inspect it. It’s surface is coated in lichens and moss, pale pastel hues clinging its rough grey surface in small patches of color. It sits evenly on the flat ground, and upon circling around it you see it has split in two, the halves only falling a short distance apart. The gap is about a foot at the base, and maybe twice that at the top, but all along the interior small fern like plants grow, gripping the stone tightly. You gasp slightly at the unusual sight, and excitedly begin to inspect the ferns, the rocks interior composition, and the estimated amount of sunlight the gap allows in.

 

You’re so engrossed in the mystery of the little plants in the rock you don’t notice the increase in volume of the noise you have carefully been ignoring, until it sounds as if it’s only a few hundred feet away. Eep, with a panicked start you do the only thing you can think of at the moment, and run! Unfortunately you are still inspecting the ferns, and have your head between the two rock halves, so your would be escape only serves to wedge you firmly into the gap in the stone, flanks scraping dirt and plants from the walls before you come to a rest several feet into the opening.

 

You panic a little more, unable to move, as the noise causes the sense of unbidden familiarity and wrongness to fall over you once more. You swing your neck wildly around and upwards, as much as the rock walls will allow, but the angle of the gap keeps you from getting line of sight to the source. What was it that could fill you with such unpleasant sensations from just its sound alone? The fact that you don’t know somehow just makes the feelings worse.

 

But just as quickly as the volume rose, it soon begins to fade. Whatever the blasted thing was, it was moving on, and you calm your sense of unease. Forcing yourself to take slower breaths you worm left, then right, slowly backing out of the gap in the rock, taking more dirt and plants with you. Once free you turn, looking back over the lake valley for the source of that strange rhythmic beat. You spot an odd red shape flying far in the distance, long and thin, like an insect, with a bulbous forward half. Several black splots dot the nose and sides in what you can only assume are eyes, but they’re largely out of proportion with its body if that’s the case. Perhaps it has extraordinary vision? But something that big wouldn’t need good vision to avoid predators, especially if it could fly, which can only mean... uh oh.

 

You gulp as the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach is joined by a cold fear. Are you being hunted by this aerial terror? You’re lucky you made it this far up the slope without it swooping down on you! You back up a few paces, then turn and quickly take stock of your surroundings. The sun is only about four spans of its disc from setting, and grey clouds are moving in from the south, bad news for any flying vision-based predators. There’s the split rock right beside you, you -could- hide there, but you would be a sitting duck if it found you. There’s a low patch of bushes nearby, but they couldn’t conceal you much, not with your bright coloring. Farther away one of the trees you noted previously stands over a more grown in area of plant life; enough to hide in you bet! You gallop over to it, noticing that the denser plants seem to run in a curving line up and down the slope between each of the trees you can see. As you slow slightly to enter the cover of the high bushes beneath the tree you see why. A small stream, only a hoof deep, lies hidden with you in the overgrowth, feeding the larger flora. You drink from the stream and settle into a nook between the trunk of the tree and one of the larger shrubs, fearfully hoping that your hiding place would be enough.

 

A miserable couple of hours pass in a fearful crawl, and you sit unmoving, covered in dirt from diving into the split fern boulder, and plant matter from your hiding place. *Sigh*, so much for getting clean in the lake; your mane and tail are tangled messes, sticks and leaves caught in their strong fibers. The day had been going pretty good too...

 

Whatever it was keeps making wider and wider circles, coming closer and closer to your place of refuge. With each pass that terrible feeling got stronger, and you felt closer to a breakdown. With the horizon red with the setting sun, and the dark clouds now blowing low over the high mountain pass, you peek out of the bush, looking across the lake for the hunter. You gasp as you see it flying over the far ridge; for as you watch a bright light shoots forth from its belly, lighting the ground below with a brilliant white glow.

 

Oh ponyfeathers, it could cast light spells too?! Well okay, you’d just stay close to the tree, it didn’t seem to want to land, so even with the light it shouldn’t be able to find you right? Plus the wind was picking up, and the sun was almost down, so it would probably go back to its nest soon anyway. Somehow the self-comforting reasoning doesn’t make you feel much better. It meant you’d also have to be out in the wind at night instead of warm and comfy back at your... your...

 

Wait, where had you camped the night before?

 

Uh, okay, don’t panic! The place you woke up in would be the most logical conclusion right? But none of that stuff looked familiar at all! You try and think back on it, but the memories of those objects, that place, all seem fuzzy, as if you were in a daze. You concentrate harder, racking your mind for whatever it was you were missing. Where had you slept? Where were these mountains? How had you gotten here?

 

It all seemed so close, like the answers were floating just on the other side of a thin mirrored surface; you could stare all you wanted but all you ever got was your own puzzled expression in return. You could feel that horrible sensation in your gut, building in power as you concentrated on it, and not just from the approach of the flying monster, though it -was- nearing your hiding place, sweeping the darkening ground with its blinding light. Did you really want to know what lay beyond it? The more you pushed the stronger the feeling of dread became.

 

A few drops of water fall from the low clouds and you huddle into a tighter position against the tree trunk. Legs folded under you, frowning with eyes closed, and brows furrowed in concentration, you push mentally, trying to reach that mirrored plane. What were all those weird objects?! Why did they feel so familiar?! Where did you even live?! Could you even remember your own name?!?

 

Wait, you knew that one, it was... Zee... Ze- something... Zenith! Yeah, that was it wasn’t it!

 

Wasn’t it?

 

Your momentary joy had the slightest amount of self-doubt stuck to the side, and it was growing. Was that really your name? Something about it felt all wrong. Wrong like the camp, wrong like the beast casting light down into the plants nearby... wrong like your eyes.

 

The noise grows and the rain gets heavier, but you drive it out of your head, No, Concentrate! You push with determination towards that mirrored film, rippling like the surface of water seen from below. You stretch towards it, reflection looking back at you with fury written across its features. Your hooves are almost touching, shaking just out of reach of the barrier between you. With one final shove you thrust your hoof through, and feel not a hoof on the other side, but something else. Something nauseatingly familiar. Something soft, and hairless, something lumpy that grasps the end of your leg with little, round, squishy-

 

“Cccrrraaaacckkkkk!”

A bolt of lightning splits open the night sky, leaping from the churning black rain clouds around the mountains peak to the stone below, the thunder echoing off the ridges to either side.

 

You snap your eyelids open, the red glow that had been coming through them materializing into twisting shards of light and dancing shadows as the bushes are whipped by the howling night winds under the inscrutable gaze of the beast above. The noise is deafening, you feel the impossibly rapid beat of its wings hammering into you, the perception of its shape deformed by fright, and with a sinking realization, you see it has slowed its pace. It circles widely around your tree, fixing it with its paralyzing stare. Had it caught a glimpse of your coat or mane through the leaves? What sort of painful weapons did it have to kill? Claws? Fangs? Could it breath fire? You start as a scathing voice booms from it, the words strange and grating. It repeats what it said as it circles. What was it saying? Comprehension sits just beyond the mirror, and you feel more dread at breaching it now than ever.

 

You try to stand, but your body feels odd and unfamiliar. Your legs want to move at angles they shouldn’t, and you feel like you’ve fallen over, even now that you have all four legs under you. The beast has moved slightly farther away, and with horror you see it starting to lower itself to the ground. Your heart races as you stumble backward awkwardly, tripping into the steam, splashing your cutie mark with water and mud. Now is not a good time legs!

 

The dark sky angrily pours cold rain down into the thrashing wind, and it almost seems to be falling sideways as it passes through the grounded beast’s strong light.

 

You scramble backwards in panic, and manage to get to stand. You run up the steam, ducking under what you can of the waterside plants’ branches and charging through the rest, Hooves don’t fail me now!

 

As soon as you leave the light cast by the beast you realize just how dark it had become, and how treacherous running over the loose river rocks would be. Even a twisted ankle and you would be easy pickings, but you don’t dare make light for yourself; it would give away your position for sure! You move as fast as you can without taking a dive, trying to put distance between you and your predator, which had yet to move in towards the bush, if your ears can be trusted.

 

You stumble up the stream, brushing your legs and chest with falls against the rocky ground. Rain pelts the brush as wind fills your ears and whips at your mane, soaking you to the bone. Only the body heat from your exertion keeps you warm, and you know that even if that thing doesn't get you, without shelter, the storm will. As you get further up the hill the plants around your stream start growing thin, and you can see several faint orange lights up ahead, right beside the stream. Shelter? Could it be? You hazard a look back, and see the beast circling the area where you were hiding. Hah, dumb thing thought you were still there!

 

You hurry on towards the lights with renewed zeal, breaking from the stream and sprinting towards salvation. Oh please oh please be help! As you approach you can make out the form of a cabin through the rain, it’s made with stacked stone walls and chimney with a wooden roof, a warm glow comes from within; somepony was home! A rock catches your front right hoof painfully, causing you to stumble, but you charge on, limping.

 

The ground between you and the cabin closes quickly, and you skid to a stop, freezing, wet, and out of breath, in front of the wooden door. It was much larger than you expected, easily twice your height. Whatever, you could critique their home later. You forcefully bang on the door with your good front hoof, trying to catch your breath enough to speak. You hear a voice from within, but you can’t make it out over the wind tearing into you.

 

You knock again, wheezing out words between gasps,

“Please- *huff* Help! *huff* Monster-!”

 

Maybe it was the wind, but your voice sounded off, even for being so raspy from running, and you are reminded of the mental mirror, the unfamiliar familiarity edging back into you.

 

The door is flung open inward to reveal a pleasant cabin interior; a warm fire, some comfy chairs, and the end of a hollow metal tube. You flinch back, it’s aimed just over your head, but quickly drops to correct... then slowly lowers to the floor as the face behind it comes into focus. You stand there gasping for breath, hurt front hoof held off the ground, staring at each other.

 

She’s cute, reddish brown hair, mid-twenties or so you guess. Something seems off though... is it the freckles? No... not the shocked expression either... she just looks a little... gah! There’s that feeling again, like you should know something but can't quite place it!

 

You’re staring at the mirror, drifting slowly towards it, reflection eyeing you with mild shock and not a little fear. Suddenly you don’t think you want to know what’s on the other side, but apparently you don’t get an option this time. As your face moves closer you lock gazes with yourself, frozen in fear, then you make contact.

 

The mirror shatters, and a torrential downpour of memories flood back into you. You remember your parents, where you grew up, your childhood friends, your room. You remember how you got to the mountains, you remember what happened last night, you remember Zenith, you remember being human.

 

“human...” you say to the girl in front of you, slowly pointing a hoof, eyes as wide as saucers, jaw slack.

 

“unicorn...” she replies, extending a finder, a similar expression across her face.

 

You fall to the floor, a soaking crumpled mess of twigs, mud, leaves, and pony. Your last waking thought was to the only thing you couldn’t remember.

 

Your name.