Chapter 5

“. . . Wake up . . .”

My eyes jolt open to a stunning silence about the room. I do not know if I had been able to catch a moment of sleep or if I had simply dozed off for maybe a minute. The strange silence outside leads me to believe that the storm has finally stopped, and I can now pick myself up. I find that the note and flower are still clutched in my hands. I sit up and hold it in both hands in front of my face.  This note, a small damaged sheet of paper, feels like it means the world to me. I stare at the crinkles of the paper while sighing so that I can prepare for the journey ahead. I fear that something horrible awaits me, but I can’t let a feeling stop me. Instead, I should let it lead me. Before I felt like a nameless creature without a purpose, now, still unsure of my own name however, I have a reason to push myself forward. The white light trying to force its way through the curtains beckons me. My . . . friends, the only ones this life says that I have ever had, are in danger I just know it. They need me, and with this drilled in my head I cannot let anything stop me. I may not remember much about my apparent past, but something tells me it’s more than I could ever imagine. The feelings I must have experienced, the friends that I had made and the places I had been. There is more that I am still missing, and I must find it. I’ve come this far, so why would I stop now? Even if all of this is just a dream, an illusion or a lie I can feel that this is my responsibility to find her, to find Trixie.

My fingertips are beginning to grow cold, and this sudden chilling pulls my attention away from the window and onto the paper. The note is becoming sheeted in a thin layer of ice, and the same goes for the flower. Every last board of wood and metal lever is being overcome with ice as icicles grow from the ceiling. I jump up to my feet, and realize that the green stone and my bag are still lying on the floor. I reach and grab the stone, and as I reach back for the bag the ice covering the floor climbs onto it and coats the entire thing as I pull back out of fear. The light from the outside quickly convolutes to a teal color that highlights the ice inside the room. I am not covered in the ice but I might as well be since the fear instilled in me has completely frozen my body.  After the entire room and everything within it has been sheeted in ice I cautiously reach out to my bag and test the ice to maybe guess how strong it may be. I hit it with my hands and step on it as hard as I can, but the ice will not break. In my hands the flower crumbles into hundreds of little pieces. The note in my other hand breaks as well into little pieces that join the shattered flower on the smooth shiny floor.

“. . . Are you afraid . . . ?” Asks a distorted feminine voice.

A shrill is sent through my body and I check all around the little room for who may have projected the voice. Of course there is not a soul in the room, but I feel like there is. I set my body in a defensive stance ready to sprint out through the door, but I am too afraid to move.

“Wh-Who-Who’s there?” I stutter.

“Shhh. . .”

The frozen door’s knob twists and slowly creeps open as the ice beneath its hinges cracks with it. The teal light peeks through the crack in the doorway, but I cannot see anything else past it. I clutch the stone in my hand and slide it in my pocket as I fear my trembling hands just may drop it. I force myself to step across the icy floor, careful not to slip, and rest my hand on the door. I take a cold breath to calm my heart before pulling the door the rest of the way open. I step out into the light and am met with a horrendous cold. My legs fall deep in snow that reaches past my knees. The sky is clouded with black and teal like paint in water. To my right is a tall wall of rock masked in snow that reaches up so high as to touch the very sky. To my left is a wide open landscape that I cannot see as the snow and gray blinds me, but I can see even more mountains reaching up from the clouds of snow. Somehow I am on the ledge of some mountain, but how could I have gotten here? This is just impossible. In need of some sanctuary I turn back to maybe hide in the broken half of the wagon, but it is no longer there. Not a dent in the snow is left to show that it even existed. My body is quivering escalating with havoc. My eyes are being overwhelmed with snowflakes blowing against them, and my chest is beginning to quiver to find some kind of warmth. This thin jacket and warm stone prove nothing against this sheer temperature.

“. . . Now, go. . .”

I have no other choice, either I stand here and freeze or do as the voice tells me. So I follow the voice’s command and trek through the high mounds of snow. Each step feels like its very own challenge with the wind pushing with all its might to force me back. What could this place be? A nightmare? But, it feels so real. The chills endlessly torment my body hoping for it all to end. I feel as though I am being forced towards my death by this voice; it’s only a matter of time until I reach it. If this truly is a nightmare, then I want it to end already and set me free. I don’t think I can handle this for much longer. I grip my hands around my arms tighter than before trying my best to hide my face from the pounding snow. Each gust of wind feels like a punch straight to my face. I look back to see how far I have gone by my tracks, and they seem to go so far back past my field of vision. It looks like I have gone so far, but I feel like I have gotten nowhere. I continue to shove my legs through the snow, until the ground slightly shifts. I stop and wait fearfully, but nothing happens. I disregard the sound as just a sound and nothing more, but I had let my guard down too early as the ground beneath me collapses allowing my body to slide down the deep mountainside. My body tumbles like a barrel down a hill as my head and back take turns plunging into the snow and back up into the air. My head breaks through the gentle layer of snow only to meet solid stone underneath. My head and back are in pain, but there is nothing I can do to stop it. The decline starts to lift up allowing my body to slow down and roll across somewhat flat ground. In too much agony and with too much speed I let myself roll too far as I slip off the edge. Dreadfully I dig my hands into the snow and grip onto the edge of the stone. With my legs hanging away all I can do is hold on, and every attempt to pull myself up fails as I end up losing even more energy to hold onto the stone.

I can feel my fingers slipping off of the stone as gravity seems to grow stronger. It feels like someone is pulling on my legs trying to drag me down. If I were to fall there is no way I would survive. Glancing down all I can see is a pit of blackness below. I want to scream for help, but I know the reality that no one will ever hear me. Even if I wanted to scream my frozen throat wouldn’t give off much of a sound. Then, as I try to gain some grip against the mountain with my shoes, a shadow looms over me. The gracious silhouette of a tall pony stares down at me from the edge of the mountain. I am overcome with relief as I try to force words from my icy lips.

“P-P-Please, help!”

The pony leans closer with its hooves on my hands. The teal light illuminates her face, and a sight that shuns my hope shines through. The smooth face and eyes lined in black shadow of the mare I saw disperse before my very eyes moves closer to mine. Her eyes are absent of pupils and are a solid periwinkle blue. She watches me with a smile, and a cold whisper moves from her lips.

“. . . It’s hopeless. Give up now, for it’s already too late . . . for the both of you.”

The mare pushes my hands off of the rock and I plummet down as she stares down at me still with a smile across her face. No amount of my screaming can save me as I watch the mountain cloud in darkness, and the mare’s face disappears. All of a sudden the wind stops, and the cold has vanished incredibly. I realize that my eyes have been closed, and opening them reveals the room of the wagon I had found. White light is bleeding through the curtains as snowflakes have caked themselves over small portions of my face. With a burst of energy I jerk myself up and against the wall as my breath quickens. I watch the window carefully expecting the light to change to that horrid teal color; thankfully it stays white after a minute of staring. It was just a nightmare, that’s all it was. But the cold, the snow the pain it all felt so real. I feel around my body to be sure I have no injuries, and I am grateful to find that there is not a single bruise about me. I lean my head back against the wall and run my fingers through my hair as I allow myself to enjoy a few deep breaths to remind myself that it really wasn’t real. But, that mare, I saw her before. Or was that just my mind playing more tricks on me? It seemed like a strange coincidence, and what she said to me. To ‘give up now, for it’s already too late for the both of you’. Just what was she talking about, and what does she mean by ‘both’? Who is she talking about? Just remembering her face gives me a slight headache.

I can feel something against my cheeks, and with an attempt to wipe it away I notice that streaks of ice have formed from my eyes down to the bottom of my jaw. My tears must’ve frozen from the cold, so I try to scratch away the ice. I find that the note and flower are on the floor, they must’ve slipped out of my hands while I was sleeping. I reach over, grab my bag, and pull out Trixie’s violet hat. I bring it to my chest, and for some reason holding it calms me down. I somehow feel . . . safer with it in my hands. I give it one last glance, as I must now prepare to head out and make my way to the castle. I place the hat back in the bag, and I also gently place the flower and note in the bag as well. I tighten the rope around the opening and swing it around my shoulder. I can feel the strange stone’s warmth near my leg. I pick up the stone, and after a second of hypnotism by its light I put it in my jacket pocket out of fear of losing it. Getting to my feet I take one last look at the room. I can still see the image of it covering in ice from my dream, but I put it aside for now turning the cold door handle and leaving the broken wagon.

Now, I am back trailing through the snow with my eyes set on the castle. Thankfully the air is calm for the moment so no deathly chilling winds are trying to reduce me to a crippled frozen corpse. I must take advantage of this and gain as much ground as I can. It feels like miles and miles that are still ahead of me, and it has just hit me like a pile of rocks as to how exactly I am going to get to the top of the mountain. I haven’t developed the slightest idea except to just climb, and if I must go on alone without the help of any sort of transportation then I am ready to climb. I say that now, but until I even come close to the mountain I wonder how my perspective will change. The scenery is beginning to become monotonous as it is just tree after tree. It occasionally is broken as I am forced off my path by obstructions like large stones that are almost as high as the trees and piles of trees that have fallen. Finally finding a new way to travel I don’t see the castle at all with these trees, which for some reason, are all leaning in one direction as if a powerful wind has forced them that way. Then something catches the tip of my shoe and I fall into the snow. The cold burns my cheeks and hands as I push my face out from the snow. It could’ve just been a log or a stone, but my curiosity brings me to inspect what it was. I hold the edge of my sleeve and brush away layers of snow to reveal a bird, a robin to be more specific, and it is frozen stiff with its wings outstretched as if it had frozen in midflight. But how could that even be possible? I thought it would’ve taken something quite some time to become sheeted in a coating of ice like this. The poor little guy, he never stood a chance. Just as I stand and begin to walk away my shoe hits another object under the snow. I reach down into the snow without a care for the burning of my hand and bring forth another bird frozen in the same way. Closer inspection of the ground shows several frozen birds’ wings and heads popping up from the snow. I can hear the sounds of birds chirping as if they were screaming and their wings beating profusely with such energy to escape from a hungry predator. I never noticed it before but also around me are deer frozen in a running stance. I can hear their long charge through the woods along with the birds chirping.

Little rabbits are also frozen to the ground and small squirrels are frozen attached to the trees. I can hear their scampering through grass, and the scratching of their claws against the tree bark. The sounds are becoming heavily overwhelming. I notice that all these animals are facing the same direction; all of them were running away from something. I turn to face the opposite direction, and ahead is the tall mountain with the dark foreboding castle against its side, my destination. Something must’ve happened to stir all these creatures, but I feel that the fear that was instilled in them has suddenly shot into me as well. I looked at this castle with hope, and now that’s slowly turning into despair. That feeling that eyes are staring straight at me from the highest window is now crushing me. I take a step back, and then a few more like a fearful child. I bump into something behind me and quickly whip around. It’s another tall mound of ice just as in Shine Village. I reach out with a trembling hand and wipe away some of the snow. I can see big fearful eyes staring back at me. I wipe away the rest and find another pony trapped within the ice. A mare with a butterscotch yellow coat, long pink mane frozen in a blown back position and her jaw is hanging open. She is staring straight upwards at the castle. How horrible, caught in the middle of the woods and doomed to become a statue.  Valiari’s statement keeps repeating in my head: ‘even if you were to free them, they most certainly wouldn’t be alive’. It’s too late, there’s nothing that I can do no matter how much I want to. This time I still feel the anxious need to break open the ice, but after repeating to myself Valiari’s words I try to instill them in my head.  Even if it was pointless I still feel the need to smash open the ice. My eyes linger upon this pony as she looks somewhat familiar, but I do not want to spend another moment staring at this pony for I feel it will send me back into my deep urges to free her instead of realize the reality. I hide my eyes from it and face back towards the castle, which doesn’t give me a much better feeling. I soon come to the thought that if a pony has been trapped in ice out here then surely a town must be nearby. With this in mind I take a deep breath and prepare myself to push forward.

I warily walk towards the castle against the frozen wildlife. After a while I come to sight with signs of possible false hope. Little cottages are appearing in the distance as I step up a snowy hill. At first I imagine another pony or maybe more still alive down there just waiting to be found, but with the pony I found earlier, all the snow, ice and horrible condition of the houses I quickly dismiss that idea. But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worth a minute to check. I’m getting colder and a quick stop to rest could do me some good. Besides, what have I got to lose? In the village I have trouble telling the difference between here and Shine Village except that these cottages look like they might’ve been in much better condition in the past compared to Shine Village’s small shacks. There are so many ponies frozen in a trotting position facing outward of town. I pass nearly a row of ten of them before even setting foot in the village. Icicles grow out from the edges of every leaning cottage extending towards the direction of the woods. The height of the snow here is significantly higher than anywhere I’ve been previously, and it lays in mounds like waves of water across the ground. Every icy doorknob I try to turn is either stuck or comes apart in my hand. Some of them turn, but the door cannot be opened due to the snow blocking the way. Then one particular ‘house’ catches my eye. A large thick tree that looks like it could be hundreds of years old with how big it is has been transformed into a house. It’s complete with windows, a front door and a balcony that outstretches onto one of its long branches. Of course getting there would be impossible as the entire balcony is piled with snow. It isn’t like every other tree whose leaves are missing; no this tree’s leaves are all still green but are frozen to the branches.

I cannot stop staring at the tree, and then an idea strikes me. If I can get in there I would most definitely find something of use, maybe another source of heat. Why I’m sure the tree alone could prove to be a good place to stay and find some warmth from the cold. Besides, its very appearance alone feels to me like it is just begging to be explored. I scurry through the snow and try to pry open the door, but there is just too much snow. I walk around the back now losing feeling in my legs and ears with the incoming winds. I try to pull open the windows, but the ice has frozen them shut. That’s it, I’m going to need something to help me get inside. I leave the tree in search of anything that could help me make my way into the house, and after a bit of searching I find a wooden wagon that has been nearly destroyed. I pick up the nearest stray board of wood that must’ve come apart from it and head back to the tree. There is no way I can break the ice with this the wood would surely break, so getting in through the window is out of the question. Instead I decide to use the board to scrape away the surprisingly hard wall of snow blocking the door.

After digging my way through for agonizing minutes as the cold grows stronger I finally weaken the snow enough to pry the door open wide enough for me to squeeze in. Inside I drop the board of wood to the floor and shut the door pressing my hands against it to keep it shut. I quickly realize that the inside is nearly as cold as the outside, but just much darker. I pull the stone out of my pocket and use its light to give me a clearer picture of what’s inside. Somehow snow has found its way inside as it is piled and tucked around the edges and corners of the room, yet I don’t hear a single sound of wind at all meaning there can’t be an opening for snow to enter. Icicles hang from the ceiling and rise from the floor. The inner wood of the tree appears much darker in color then I had expected it to be. Built into the wood of the tree are rows upon rows of shelves filled with books. Some of them have fallen out and are lying on the floor. I pick up one of the books off of a frosty circular rug in the center of the room, and even a gentle turn of the page causes a chunk of the paper to break off in my hand. Venturing around the house I find a little kitchen with the cupboard doors flared open and kitchenware scattered all over the floor. I find a stove, and immediately test the burners to see if they light. I sigh as not even a spark comes from the stovetop. Something about this place feels familiar I just can’t shake it. Nothing about this room appears remotely recognizable. Other than that there is no reason for me to spend any more time in here, so I move on to find just a staircase leading up to a door.

Perhaps there might be something in the room beyond, or it just might even be warmer there than here. I grab and twist the knob, and with a push the door refuses to open. Something must be blocking the door from the other side, so the first thing that comes to my head is to try and force it open. I push harder onto the door, but it still won’t budge. I throw myself into the door repeatedly until I can hear the sound of something cracking. I must be making progress; one last strong enough bash should do it. I step back and lunge straight into the door with my whole body weight. The door finally gives way and large shards of ice shatter and slither across the icy floor. With all that momentum I end up falling onto the floor with the ice. The entire room is sheeted in a coat of ice, and there are even more shelves of books, but there are greater gaps in these. Furniture and several books are frozen to the ground toppled over each other. This place reminds me of the nightmare I had last night where everything froze over just like this. My eyes follow the shards as they glide towards a large pile of black charred remains of wood and paper. Next to it is something I had never expected to see. A lavender coated pony with a violet mane, pink highlights and a horn protruding from her forehead lays motionless and covered in frost near the pile of ashes.