It Reminds Me

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/141532/it-reminds-me

Being comfortable is a luxury. You understand that. But sometimes, sometimes it can reach such incredible extreme levels that it feels like a necessity.

You stay tightly curled up on yourself under the covers, surrounded with such intense warmth that it almost feels like you're submerged. Submerged in an ocean of blankets and sheets and pillows tucked in all the right places. You smile to yourself as your sleepy brain conjures up such silly thoughts and sensations. You don't want to move, you don't want to wake up, you don't want to do anything. You want to stay put, right here, come the apocalypse and beyond.

So you stay there. You stay there for you don't know how long. Hours, surely, and the entire time you don't do much moving other than the occasional errant twitch. There is no way you woke up on time, Must have slept through all of your alarms and then some. But you don't care, work can wait for a few more hours. You just need to stay here and rest a bit longer, safe in your cocoon of covers.

You suspect that it's around late afternoon when that wonderful comfort finally starts to fade. Your curled up position begins to feel constrictive, and the warm protective wrappings of your covers seem just a bit tight. All the same, you are just so exhausted. The mere idea of moving around and stretching out just seems like so much work. So you stay still a little longer, mustering up your will for a few minutes before you finally try moving.

A little squirm here, a little wiggle there. You feel slightly more awake now. It doesn't feel like waking up is such a massive ordeal anymore. Still though, you brain remains as foggy and sleep drunk as ever as you try stretching your your legs a bit. You begin shivering as your bundles of blankets and pillows start to slowly come apart as you writhe about, and the freezing air of you room begins flooding in as all your precious warmth slowly leaks out. The shock of the temperature certainly helps you wake up a bit, and with a mighty heave you pull and push your head free of your entanglements. The first thing you do is swallow a great deal of foul tasting saliva that had apparently built up in the night. Disgusting. But after that, you take a great yawn, savoring the sensation of the cold winter air filling your lungs for what feels like the first time in a while. The next thing you do is cough horribly, sounding very wet and muffled, as if you ears are full of wax. Perhaps breathing the same damp air all night was not good for you.

Despite your suspicions of it being long past afternoon, no light meets your closed eyelids. Perhaps you didn't sleep in after all! With a force of effort, you wrench your eyes open, feeling as if they have been nearly glued shut with that nasty sticky buildup that accrues over the night. You blink a few times as things shift in and out of focus rapidly, and finally things start to get a little clearer.

When you wake up in the morning, there are a lot of things you really don't expect to see.

Vast, vaulted cave ceilings, mist filled chasms. And hundreds, hundreds of faintly glowing... Things. As you stare, the first thing that springs to your mind are eggs. Eggs, or cocoons or something. That is what they must be. You can see dark shapes inside of them, and some of them are moving. It sends a faint shiver down your spine, but for some reason, you are not afraid. Not yet anyway. Maybe your mind is a bit slower waking than you even you expected. This is most certainly not the most normal of situations to find yourself in, and a quick glance down reveals how very very most un-normal this is.

Your comfortable bunble of covers are not covers at all. In fact, it seems that you have just violently torn your head through the translucent skin of some sort of slimy egg sac. As you watch, globules of glowing green goo are slowly dripping from the punctures you've already made. Your mouth hangs open a little, stunned, and your sense of smell begins to return. The scents that assault you now are unlike anything you've ever experienced before.

There is a faint pop from one of your ears, and a strange oozing feeling as your ear canals begin to clear. Other than that though, the cavern is practically silent. Utterly and completely. Things begin to feel very still.

Suddenly, a sound behind you. You jump in surprise, ears swiveling backward. You whip your head around to locate the source of the sound, but you cant turn far enough to see while you're still mostly encased by your egg. And with that, you begin to feel incredibly claustrophobic. Finally your mind catches up with the situation at hand, and abruptly fear shows itself with terrible ferocity as it fills the vacuum of its absence. You struggle with all your meager strength, and start tearing out of the stretchy thing that encases you, which feels and gives much like you imagine skin would. More and more goo starts to pour forth from the egg, sliding from the vicious wounds you cause from within. Finally, you compromise its integrity enough that the sheer weight of your body and the liquid inside is enough to make the entire egg collapse, dumping you and the rest of its contents out in a flood of goop.

Your first instinct is to get the nasty stuff off of you, but that course of action brings you to another terrible realization. Your body is not your own. Instead of the palid skin and bipedal form that you are used to, your eyes are met with the sight of a small, gaunt body that cannot be more different than the one you are used to.

You now possess a curious combination of smooth flesh and hard black chitin, on what appears to be a quadrupedal body. You don't even have digits anymore. In the places where you are used to seeing hands and feet, there is nothing but stumps. Hooves. If you could call them that. You also seem to be afflicted by what must be some sort of horrible birth defect, where parts of your extremities are simply missing, leaving gaping holes where muscle and bone should be. There is also some sort of weird goopy fleshy thing attached to your belly, something you assume must have been essential in providing you nutrients while you were inside that thing. You find yourself entranced, laying there on your back and staring down at not-you. Far too distracted to recognize the sound of more tearing and slopping of fluid nearby.

It isn't until it's actually upon you that you finally notice the other creature. With a piercing snarl, it tackles you, causing you to let out a shriek of pain and surprise as it viciously begins attacking you. It beats you with its hooves, and bites down with little fangs on the vulnerable bare flesh of your stomach.

All worries about your new body as cast aside as more pressing and immediate concerns beat down on your mind. Terror, pure and simple, fuels your actions now. Desperately, you begin kicking with your hind legs, and swing one of your forehooves at its face. There is a sharp crack, and another sound of pain as you smack the things horn with your hoof. It pulls away, and you cry out as the thing attached to your belly is caught on one of the monsters jagged edges, and is torn clean off. The pain is immense, and you feel tears fill your eyes, blurring the sight of your fresh blood mixing with the fluid already covering the floor, like oil and water.

You don't know what to do. You don't know what's going on or why you're being attacked. You don't know how to fight! You aren't even sure how to walk! You don't remember where or what you are, or even WHO you are anymore, and By the time you've cleared your eyes and regained your senses, the thing is charging you again. You panic, flailing your limbs wildly in its direction. It smashes into you, knocking the wind out of you, but somehow your crazed motions send it sliding across the goo covered floor in the opposite direction.

You whip your head around, expecting to see the creature running back at you, but instead you find yourself locking gazes with it. You stare into each others wide eyes for only a split second, and the expression of surprise on it's face is forever seared into your memory as it slips right off the edge of a chasm, and into darkness.

Her eyes were blue.



You stare for a moment at the place where the thing used to be, and listen. You listen for any sign that it's somehow climbing back up, or that it can fly, or that it has caught onto the edge or something with its jagged holey hooves. Or, failing any of those, perhaps then just the sickening sound of it smashing against the bottom of that chasms unknowable misty depths. But all you can hear for the next minute or so is the pounding of blood in your head, and your panicked whimpering breaths as your mind struggles with the idea that something just tried to kill you, and that you killed it instead. A terrible thought strikes you, and with a shaking limb, you reach up to your forehead.

You find a jagged feeling horn there, just like the one the creature that attacked you had. Apparently, as it would seem, you two are one and the same species. Which means that it is entirely possible that you did not kill someTHING, but someONE. Maybe even someone who was stuck in the same situation you are, lost and confused in some damp cave. And you just sent them to their death, alone, in a bottomless pit.

You shake your head of such thoughts, clenching your eyes shut and trying to regain control of your mind and your senses. But things keep getting in the way. New sensations and instincts that you have no experience fighting, new smells and ideas, feelings and body parts. It's entirely unreal, and the longer you keep your eyes closed the more dizzying it all becomes. You need to move, to stop thinking so hard. If you keep thinking you're going to lose yourself to it all, or descend into madness or shock.

You open your eyes, once again having to get familiar with the sight of your new body. Chitinous and still slick with egg slime as you are, it is not a particularly pretty sight. You suspect that your exoskeleton has not fully hardened yet, and a soft prod from one of your hooves proves your assumption correct. It is malleable and sensitive, of desperate need of drying out from what must have been months submerged in nutritious fluids. Best get someplace dry, you think. Laying on your back like this could be squishing the chitin on your back, and the last thing you want is to become even more contorted and deformed than you already are.

You grunt audibly as you roll over, and one of your ears twitches as the sound reverberates off the walls around you. Moving in this body is strange, feeling almost entirely different than what you remember, from before. The basic concept seems the same, but there are fewer muscles, and strange bones. Some parts of you seem to be entirely absent of any kind recognizable biological sense, namely the ones that are full of gaping holes. These areas seem to be devoid of any muscle, or even bone. You don't understand how they can move as well as they do, or even how you know how to move them. The action isn't the same as before. It's different. Trying to think of how to describe it makes your head hurt, and brings to the forefront of your mind strange images and concepts that you cant understand.
You're thinking again. Better stop that.

Standing up isn't particularly difficult, and to your surprise, neither is walking. It comes entirely naturally to you, as if you have done it hundreds of times before. This unnerves you a little, but you shove it to the back of your attention. You have other things you must focus on now.

A quick survey of your surroundings reveals that you seem to be in some sort of spawning area elevated and separated off from the rest of the cocoons. There are only two eggs here, yours, and the one belonging to your late attacker. This has to mean something, but you cant put together what. Perhaps the two of you are supposed to be special somehow? Or perhaps rejects? Runts? You look at yourself, noting that you DO seem rather gangly. Either way, something warranted separating you from the rest.

Once you move away from the pit and into a more dry area of this place, you feel almost immediately more at ease, even midst the towering silhouettes of the cocoons. Something about the dampness and the air back there set you on edge. But now you feel much more comfortable, and so decide to start looking for a way out of this place only after you've cleaned yourself up a bit. There is a floppy piece of transparent skin impaled on your horn that has been there since you stabbed your way out of your egg with it. It's beginning to bother you.

Cleaning yourself, on top of making yourself much more familiar with this new body of yours, has the added effect of making you feel much more refreshed. Using your tongue to clean all the goo off of you was disgusting at first, but surprisingly effective, and easy to do. The methods and patterns on how to do this properly seem to spring up from inside you like they were always there, just waiting to be tapped upon. It's gross, but it works. You try not to think about how much of the stuff you swallow, just by accident. By the time you are finished, your chitin has begun to sheen with its own luster, and has hardened considerably in the dry air.

That finished, you best make up for lost time. Though, you aren't really sure what you should be saving time for, but it is much better to be safer rather than sorry. You look around, and marvel at how well you can see in this almost perfect darkness. The only light sources that you can see come from the faintly glowing cocoons, or weird glowing things on the walls. Your new eyes must be excellent. A plus, but you would prefer some sort of manipulator. Tentacles perhaps, or the like.

Wandering around proves rather fruitless. This chamber is larger than it had seemed from your elevated position, and you are finding yourself becoming increasingly lost. This fact really doesn't bother you very much though. You were lost the moment you opened your eyes today, and you have no desire to wind your way back to where you started. Going in circles however, which is the problem you are now facing, is counterproductive. Despite the cocoons lacking any sort of distinguishing features, you find yourself starting to recognize ones you have seen before more and more. You have no idea how, as they all look incredibly similar to you. But none the less whenever you see one that you have encountered before, you know. The clarity with which you can perceive the uniqueness of each and every one is a little unnerving actually. It would seem that it is certainly not just your body that has undergone a change.

Curious and growing tired, you step up to one of the large containers with wide and searching eyes. It is somewhat similar to your egg, but much larger, and sturdier. A large portion of it is some sort of black fleshy growth, with protective chitin at its base and its top. The majority of its surface though is a translucent skin, which gives quite easily under the prodding of your hoof. It seems to be quite stretchy and resilient, likely designed to be easily cut or pierced, but highly resistant otherwise. You rear up onto your hind legs, placing your forehooves onto the cocoon as you peer inside, focusing intently on trying to see whatever is in there. But as far as you can tell it is empty aside from the glowing goo stuff.

"A terrible shame, isn't it?" A trilling, dominant, and distinctly female voice speaks from behind you.

The sudden breaking of the silence startles you, but the fact that it is an actual coherent voice that broke it does so even more. You fall backwards, instinctively curling up into a ball to protect yourself as you roll over, sprawling out on you back. A face gazes down at you, a majestic and imperial face that commands respect and exudes power. But accented with such feminine features and curves, it becomes something else entirely. Royal. Matronly.

Motherly.

Your breath catches in your throat as her green eyes stare down at you, almost seeming to project their own light. Her long mane is draped downward like curtains of sea vines, and the faint green light glints off her wicked and gnarled horn. Your mother smiles down at you. How you know she is your mother, you don't know. But you know she is. Nothing is more certain.

"More of them should be full, but it has been a slow season."

You blink a couple times, unsure exactly what to say, or entirely understanding what she even means. Then again, now that you think about it, you haven't said a word since this whole ordeal began. Do you even know how to speak?

"I have been looking for you, little thing," she says, softly and with a little kindness in her voice. She sits down, and scoops you up. The thought of struggling doesn't even occur to you. Somehow, she manages to deftly cradle you in her forelegs without pinching or scratching you with any of the jagged edges caused by the holes riddling them. You're a little relieved to see such gaps in her limbs. Turns out you are not a freak after all. "You were much more difficult to find than your sibling, who unfortunately took a little tumble out of her crib. I don't suppose you were the one who...?"

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head vigorously. You could never kill someone like that! Not on purpose anyway. She nods quietly, and her eyes widen in understanding as she spots the still glistening bite mark on your stomach. She chuckles, and it is a cold sound that echos across the walls and through your head. Despite such, her mirth fills you with pleasure. You are pleased that she is pleased.

"Managed to get you a little, hmm?" she says as she gently nudges at your wound with her nose. You flinch a little. "I can only afford to raise and support a single new hive, you know. She undoubtedly understood that." She seems to grow contemplative. "Well, I am just as proud of you for thwarting her as I would have been of her for usurping you, little one." She smiles, and places a kiss on your horn. You find yourself feeling a little red in the cheeks, even though the thing she's proud of you for is killing your sister.

"Now, how about a reward for such a good start?" She grins, revealing a mixture of sharp and flat teeth. A forked green tongue slithers out of her mouth, and she drags it across the puncture marks, leaving behind a transparent liquid that hardens almost immediately. The pain turns into a tingling sensation, then vanishes entirely.

"There we go. Wouldn't want your naughty little sister to kill you from the grave now would we? Changeling bites can get nasty." She coo's inhumanly to you, rocking you a little in her embrace. It's simultaneously one of the most calming and most surreal things that you've ever experienced. Being rocked in the embrace of your inhuman mother-but-not-old-mother. You are entirely unsure how to feel.

"Rest, little royal. You've a long life ahead of you. It will not be easy." She speaks, and there is a terrible significance in her words. A forcefulness that ensures that they will remain entombed in your mind for years to come.

"Relax. Relax and be safe. Drink of my love, drink of OUR love. It will be our only gift to you in the years to come. But it will be one you carry with you." She rears her head back, and closes her eyes. A deep tone begins to escape her lips, and it slowly coalesces into a low hum. She exhales all her breath sustaining the sound, then takes a deep breath, and begins it again.

It begins to grow louder. At first you think that mother herself is doing it, but you quickly ascertain that it's coming from everywhere, from all around you. You look around as the sound stops all at once, just long enough for a breath, before it begins again.

Lights begin shining in the darkness, pale green lights that thrum brightly in accordance with the intensity of the sound. You strain your eyes to try to pick out what exactly they are, but the way the light fades and returns is messing with your night vision.

Mother stops humming, and returns her attention to you. But the humming doesn't stop. It still reverberates around you, growing louder into a droning, almost buzzing sound.

VVVMMMMM ... VVVVMMMMM ... VVVVMMMMMMMMM ...

"Listen to them, and know." She speaks. "One day you will have a hive of your own. A grand swarm that will love you, and will serve you well. I will be hard at work ensuring that will be so." She lowers her head to stare you right in the eyes. You are paralyzed, and can do nothing but stare back.

VVVVVMMMMM ... VVVMMMMM ... VVVMMMM ...

The lights grow brighter and brighter, and you let out a little gasp as you realize each of the hundreds of little green lights is the glowing horn of a dark, scuttling form. Chitinous and bestial looking, they scurry along the walls and climb over each other.

VVvmmmmmMM ... VVVMMMM ... VVVmmmMm ...

Mother begins to sway back and forth with the sound, her horn beginning to emit its own light. "I will not see you for a very long time after tonight, and things will be and become very confusing for you." Her horn grows brighter, and brighter, until it is a blinding flare in the darkness, alight with green fire. "But if you are to become a monarch of the changelings, you must possess the will, and the bond..." She opens her eyes, and they are blazing, streaming sparks of power. The humming is deafening now, but somehow you can still hear her perfectly. "...To remember who you are."

Everything reaches a pitched crescendo, a rising sensation of noise and power that vibrates through your being. your mother bends over, closer and closer to you. She opens her mouth, and you can see a bright light within it that intensifies and joins with the light from her eyes and horn.

Darkness.


"Do not be fooled. If you are discovered they will kill you. I wish you the best of luck. Remember, Mumma loves you."


A memory of your mothers words drifts into your mind. They are eerily clear, and crisp, as if she didn't have to bother with actually vocalizing them, and just shoved them directly into your head instead.

It's terribly bright here, wherever here is. You don't much care for it. The air is dry and warm, and the sounds of outside life and a pleasant morning seem to be leaking into your ears from somewhere. You cant see where yet, as apparently you are wrapped up in blankets. This time you make sure that they are actually blankets, and are pleased to confirm that they are. You can feel the soft material against your hoof when you prod at it. You squirm, finally working your way out from being tucked so tightly in. You take a breath, much like the one you took when you first hatched, and stare around at your surroundings. What greets you when your sight is free is such a dramatic change in scenery that it actually feels bizarre.

You're in a cozy little house, with bright colors and carefully arranged furniture and bookshelves and a ceiling and everything! You lay stunned for a few seconds before bothering to acknowledge the pain the sudden light is causing your eyes. You whimper quietly to yourself and cover your eyes with your hooves, kicking the rest of the blankets off with your hind legs. Your eyes are quickly adjusting, but you still note to yourself that the dark cave was a much more comfortable atmosphere.

Now that you're starting to compose yourself, you notice that there's a small fence set up in the doorway of this room, presumably to keep something in. Another quick glance around confirms that you're the only living thing in this room. So, it's probably for you.

You pause, stretch, and sit yourself up. Your brain starts to kick into gear, analyzing the situation and coming up with different possibilities. What is this place? What happened to mother? She said that you wouldn't see her again for a very long time, right? Why? She couldn't still be here, could she? This does not seem like a place where she would be.

"Mothzer?" You call out, not even surprised at how odd your voice sounds now. It is soft and weak, but possesses that same trilling quality that your mothers does.

No response. You didn't expect any. She isn't here. You would know if she was here. She WAS here though, a time ago, you can still know that. Her sense, her feel, is still here. It's on the air, about the room. You stand up, and follow her.

It leads you to the window, where you can feel it continue beyond. But the window is closed. You can reach the sill if you stand on your hind legs, but it seems you don't possess the strength to actually open it. Disappointed, you turn towards the fenced door instead. On approaching it, you recognize a simple locking system to keep it locked in place in the doorway. Child-proof too, or so a little ad on its side claims. In truth, unlocking it is a simple matter of pressing your hoof in the right place, and pressing. Hard. You grunt a little from the strain, but the lock gives.

Now unsupported, the tension keeping the fence standing upright fails, and it falls over with a clatter. You tense, straining your ears to sense movement elsewhere in the house. Seconds tick by, but you hear nothing. Nothing telling anyway. So, you quietly creep over the fallen gate, and start looking for a way out of this too-bright place.

The house seems to be empty, though. Every room that you dart through in search of escape is devoid of movement, and utterly silent. You begin to suspect that nobody is home, but err on the side of caution anyway. Where is the exit to this place? The spaces feel alien and all too similar for some reason, and the geometric shapes of the rooms strike you as confusing, even difficult to remember. So much so that you actually find yourself walking in circles more than once. It frustrates you to an incredible degree. You never had this problem before!

Finally, a room you're sure you haven't been to before. Counters and chairs, a table. Your memories of before tell you that this must be the kitchen. There is a door across the way, with bright sunlight on the other side. Your eyes widen, and you feel a smile curl your lips. Success! Now you can follow mother! You start trotting over to it, abandoning stealth in your excitement. But after only a few steps, there is a slight clatter of movement behind you, and several things happen at once. You whip your head around, baring your teeth as memories of sister flood into your mind. But what you see is most certainly not sister. A large mint colored mare is standing on her hind legs as she returns a jar to a high shelf.

Your entire body tenses, and you let out a little gasp of surprise as something wells up within you. In a split second, all of your nerves are suddenly put on edge, and a very uncomfortable prickling sensation consumes your entire body. There is a faint flash of greenish light, and everything returns to normal, leaving you feeling rather dazed.

The mare returns to all fours, and turns her head in your direction. Her brow raises in surprise, and she drops the cookie from her mouth, only for it to begin floating in mid air, seemingly without supports other than a faint green aura.

"Mint? What are you doing? How did you get out?" She trots over to you, covering ground with such speed that you cower as she towers over you. "You aren't even wearing your-" She sighs and shakes her head, before repeating her first question. "What are you doing out here?"

Immediately, you attempt to leap into a proper explanation, that you were following mothers trail, the one she left for you, and that it is of vital importance that you return to her. Unfortunately, all that escapes from your mouth is a rather mangled "Mothzer!"

The mares response to this single word is a little unexpected. She seems surprised again, but time something different happens. Her cheeks redden, and she seems a little lost for words. "What? Me? No, nonono. Well, maybe, but at least not..." she turns her head away from you for a second before looking back and clearing her throat. "Not yet. Someday maybe."

You stare up at her, bewildered. She stares back, seeming to grow more uncomfortable the longer the silence goes on. She clears her throat again. "Come on. Let's get you back to your room, okay?"

Your room? What room? The one you woke up in? Is that your room? You don't want that room. You want to go home!

Home.

The idea makes you pause for a moment. Where IS home? That dank cave where you hatched? Where your sister tried to kill you, and you wandered lost for hours? Is that home? Hesitation. Perhaps you are mistaken? What about before? Isn't your home from before? A deep pit of dread and sadness begins to form in your belly as you strain your mind, trying to remember...

"Did you unlock this yourself?" the mare asks, nudging the fallen gate on the floor with a hoof. She smiles down at you. "Clever little filly, aren't you?"

A bubble of pride replaces the dread, and you feel your cheeks heat up a little at the complement, even if it was a stupidly simple task to take down the gate. Your goal of remembering the before time slips from your grasp of attention, and drifts away.

"Well, no point in keeping this up if you're just going to knock it down again I guess." The mare shrugs, and steps over it and into the room. You follow her, tentatively, your eyes drawn again to the floating cookie. After a moment or two, she notices the object of your attention, and beams. "You want a cookie, huh?" She giggles, a mirthful and pleasant sound. So unlike your mothers. "Bon Bon made them. I'd love to share with you, but I'm not actually sure if you're supposed to be eating anything like this yet..." She taps a hoof to her chin.

In truth, you're not actually interested in consuming the cookie at all, merely fascinated with it's denying gravity. Though the thought of actually explaining this to her doesn't occur to you for some reason. Not at first anyway. You just stare up at it with wordless confusion for a while, before snapping to your senses.

You open your mouth; intending to ask the question, but as soon as you begin speaking, you stop. Your breath catches in your throat, and all you let out is a brief "Hh-". You pause, and try again; making even less progress this time. It's incredibly odd. You know you can speak; you've done it before. But  you wont. It's not from any lack of ability. It's just because you don't want to. Not even that, It's instinct. For some reason whenever you try to speak, you feel an overwhelming compulsion not to. It reminds you of the feeling of standing on the edge of a very high place, and wanting to jump off. But you cant. You certainly COULD jump off if you wanted, but you wont. Your body just won't let you.

The mare glances around conspiratorially, then breaks a quarter of the cookie off with her magic, and gives it to you with a sheepish smile. "Don't tell Bon bon, okay?"

You stare at the floating fraction of cookie, and sniff it. It smells like cookie. You remember the scent of cookie. It smells the same as you remember, though it seems to have lost a significant amount of its appeal. You remember cookies heralding joy, and other delightful senses. This in comparison seems... Dull. But perhaps it's just nostalgia? You lean forward, and risk a lick.

It's... Sweet. Yes, very sweet. Not much else to it other than sweet. It's sort of boring. Nothing like before. You feel no desire to eat it. Your disinterest shows.

"More for me then," the mare says, seemingly more than happy to take back her tribute. She pops the rest of the thing into her mouth and sits down in front of you; she holds up a hoof to signal for you to wait for her to finish chewing. You wait patiently.

She swallows and takes a deep breath. "So, what do you think of your new home? I know you haven't been here very long, but it's nice right? Do you like your mom?" She tilts her head, and smiles hopefully.

You stare blankly at her. Of course you like mother. You miss her. Where is she? You can still sense her in the air, and on the window...

"She should be home soon I think," she says, peering behind her. Excitement wells up within you. She's coming back?

"I never did ask her if she wants you to call her mom or Bon Bon..."

You deflate, though the mint mare is too distracted to notice. You don't know who this 'Bon Bon' is, but she is certainly not your mother. Your mothers name is not Bon Bon.

"How about me? Do you remember my name?" she points at herself. "I'm Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings." She grins, as if expecting something. You sit and stare.

"Heart." She gestures to her chest. "Strings." She makes a strumming motion. "Can you say my name? Lyra?"

You probably can, but you aren't going to try. You just wish you could understand WHY your instincts insisted on it. Everything is so confusing and bright here. You want to go home, but you don't know where that is. All you know for sure is that everything is different from before, and that you need to find mother. You don't care who this Lyra person is. You feel so helpless. So powerless in determining your fate. How can you make good choices when you don't KNOW anything? You can feel your face flush, and tears come to your eyes.

"Oohh, nononono! What did I do?" Lyra cries. "I'm sorry! Are we going too fast? You don't have to try saying my name if you don't want to!" You can see her blurry silhouette moving around. "Oh! I'll be right back!" Lyra quickly darts out of the room.

As soon as Lyra is out of sight you run to the window; tears streaming down your face. Mother went through this window, this is where she left from! You have to go through it too if you want to follow her, if you ever want to see her again! You rear onto your hind legs and put your forehooves on the windowpane. You were too weak to lift this before, but you're determined to make this time different. You take a deep breath and try your best to clear your eyes. It doesn't work very well, but well enough for you to see something that makes you freeze in place.

A face! A stallions face. He's right outside the window, and staring back at you. His fur is almost black; though it bears a distinctly blue hue. Something sparks inside you, and you know there is something very different about this stallion. Familiar even. Have you seen him before? You cant possibly have.

Still, you find your gaze locked with his. When he speaks, you understand his words; even through the glass.

"Stay."

Your insides sink, and you sag. Why? Why must you stay here? Is there a reason? What is it? Why wont anyone tell you anything? The tears return with a vengeance, along with that feeling of powerlessness. A tapping on the glass distracts you from your misery, and you look up again to see the stallion with his hoof against the window. He stares at you intently.

"We are with you."

You hiccup. What does that mean? Who is we? Who is HE?
A sound from the hallway makes one of your ears twitch, and you turn your head to see Lyra enter the room, her horn alight. You peer back through the window, but the stallion is gone. Who was that? How did he know what you were going to do? Why did he care?

"This is my namesake," Lyra spouts, sounding rather hopeful.

You face her again, and see her displaying a small golden harp-like instrument. You stare at her numbly; still standing against the window.

"It's a Lyre! Like my name!" She strums it with her magic, and causes a plethora of pleasing sounds to round about the room. It's actually a rather impressive display, you note. Impressive enough to briefly distract you anyway. "Want to hear a song?" She smiles endearingly at you. What the heck, you don't actually have anything better to do. You fall back to all fours, and stand in front of her, waiting.

She watches you curiously for a moment, then shrugs. The song begins.