Chapter Twenty

> You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves
> You clear your throat, hands clenched at your sides
“Dad,” you begin, your voice shaking, “I need your help.”
> His face remains passive, showing no reaction
“You taught me I needed to find my own path, that I need to control my own destiny”
> The words start to come tumbling out, faster and louder as you continued
“You showed me how to find my way no matter where I was, so I would never be lost.”
> Your voice is rising, starting to grow angry
> You want to stop, to just calm down. But you can’t, that’s not the way things happened.
“You showed me how to walk, but I don’t know where to go!” you shout
> He doesn’t say anything, you knew he wouldn’t
> You slam your hands on the edge of the coffin, years of frustration taking over
“Dammit dad! How could you go? I still need you! I need you to show me where to go!”
> The tears were flowing freely now, spilling onto your suit
> You could hear the hushed whispers behind you, you knew you were making a scene
> You knew that they were watching
> You didn’t care then, you didn’t care now
> But there was something else.
> She was here
> You could feel her watching.
> She shouldn’t be here. This was your memory. This was your life.
> She had no right to be here
> You didn’t want her here
“Get out…” you whisper
> The murmuring stops behind you, you were deviating from the memory
“Get out.” You command, your voice growing firm.
> Details begin to drop out of focus, the world growing blurry
 “I SAID GET OUT!”

> You bolt upright, your body covered in sweat despite the cool night air
> You look around, checking your surroundings
> You were back on the steppe, the soft breeze rustling through the grass
> The mountains of Gryphonia were visible on the horizon as a great swathe of starless sky.
> You were close now, you would only be a couple weeks before you were out of Equestria.
> You shudder, trying to steady your heavy breathing
> How long was this going to go on? How long would these nightmares plague you?
> They weren’t even bad memories, many of them were of friends and family
> But you couldn’t recall any of them without being reminded of what Twilight did to you, without feeling like she was still watching.
> That was the greatest scar, she twisted even your fondest memories into nightmares.
> You wondered if you’d ever get them back
> You lay back down on the bedroll, trying to make up for lost sleep

> Finally, the long expanse of grassland was broken as you neared the mountain chain
> A thick conifer forest grew in the foothills, the ground covered in a soft layer of fallen pine needles and moss
> The smooth trunks of the pins towered above you, their branches casting a complex pattern of shadows over your surroundings.
> You felt relieved to be back under the canopy of trees, back in the environment you were experienced with
> The two of you followed glacier fed streams through valleys and canyons, the mountains dominating the skyline in front of you.
> You were eager for this journey to finally be over. Soon you wouldn’t have to worry everyday if you would be captured by those damn p0nies. You would finally be free.
> And not a moment too soon, the seasons were beginning to change.  You noticed the days were growing progressively colder and shorter, fall was in full swing now.
> You weren’t prepared to survive a winter on your own, you would need a place to stay. How you were going to manage that, you weren’t sure, but one day at a time.
> At least the change in season brought new game. Migratory birds began making their way south over the mountains, and proved to be just a stupid as the ones from back home.
> And so you found yourself enjoying a fine roasted goose, sitting on a moss covered boulder
> “I’m just saying,” Gilda said between bites of her own meal, “I don’t see how hunting with that weird stick thing can be enjoyable.”
“For the last time, it’s called a bow.” You retort, “And it is enjoyable, I like the challenge.”
> “But there’s no thrill! No chase!” Gilda responds, gesturing with her talons, “You just sneak up and shoot it! There’s no fun in that.”
> You take a swig from the canteen, preparing your response
“Sneaking up on prey is fun. It takes skill” you answer back, “Not that you would know. You just divebomb the first thing you see, screeching for all the world to hear.”
> “The world needs to know how awesome I am.” Gilda brags, tossing a bone behind her, “Speaking of which, we need to work on your battle cry, it’s pretty pathetic.”
“I’ll get right on that.” You sarcastically reply
> You both return to your meals, content to let the verbal stalemate rest.
> However, you get that strange feeling again, when your subconscious notices something you haven’t.
> You straighten up, straining your ears to listen
> You can just make out the sounds of something moving through the brush
> It’s movements are purposeful and deliberate, not the random wanderings of some animal
> Someone is coming
> Your rise from your seat, grabbing your bow
> Gilda is on alert as well, her wings flared and back arched
> Whoever is out there is still coming toward you at a calm pace
> You drum your fingers anxiously on the taught bowstring, awaiting their arrival
> Finally, the figure comes into view, your breath seizing in your chest
> Surprise quickly turns to disbelief, before melting into pure unbridled hatred
> Your hands shake with barely controlled rage, tentatively held back by the force of will
> Somehow you knew this day would come.
> Of course it would be now, only when you were so close to being done.
> Finally you manage to speak, forcing the words through clenched teeth
“Hello Twilight.”
> “Hello Anon,” she answered, her voice dripping with contempt, “It’s been a long time.”