DING

DONG

DING

DONG

A... A bell? Why do I hear a bell...? I can't see anything in this stony darkness... So cold..

DING

DONG

There it is again... I feel like... Like I should try to get out. I don't know why. But... What else should I do?

With that single thought, I press against the heavy stone of my prison. Slowly, it gives, sliding off. Rays of light begin to peek through the opening. I push harder, until I feel the lid finally fall off with a thud. The soft, dull light of the moon shines upon my face. I place my hands on either side of the cracked stone sarcophagus, slowly raising myself up. I can feel the dust and Ash that was caked on me fall off as I rise.

I'm standing now. Standing for the first time in so long. So... long... How long has it been? I look around. Nothing is familiar. Sand dunes stretch out for miles. A crumbling ring of stone bricks and piles of rubble surround what was my resting place. I don't recognize any of this. Wasn't there a...wasn't there a... Hmm. Strange. I actually can't remember what things were supposed to look like. I just feel like something is missing...

I shake my head and climb out of the sarcophagus. As I do, I hear the clang of metal and glass as my foot impacts something on the bottom of the sarcophagus. I glance down. There is a weapon there, along with a shield, and two glass flasks filled with glowing liquid, one a dull green and the other a dull blue, and a bundle of pure white cloth, too. I pick them all up. I remember these. These were mine.

I inspected the weapon, first, taking it out of it's sheath. It was a well crafted and decorated straight sword, with a gilded hilt. The blade was dull, but still sharp enough to cut.

Next, the shield. It was, again, a simple kite shield. It's black face was marred, enough that what was the symbol couldn't be made out well at all.

The bundle of cloth was just that, a bundle of cloth, but I remembered enough to know that it had other uses.

The two flasks I recognized to be for Unkindled, Estus Flasks, and I frowned as I remembered the curse that afflicted me.

DING

DONG

I glanced up at the toll of the bell. In the far distance, amongst the dunes, I saw a bell tower. I glanced back down to my equipment, then back to the bell tower. I feel like I should go to the tower. Again, I don't know why. I just... felt like I should. With that in my mind, I picked up the sword and strapped it to my belt, tucking the cloth into a satchel, and taking the shield in my off hand.

Checking myself over one final time, I then begin my trek towards the bell tower. My armor clinks and clanks lightly with each step, my armored boots sinking into the sands some thanks to their weight. A light wind blew some errant sand across the dunes, as well as making my cape flutter. As I traveled, my thoughts wandered.

What happened? I faintly remember a strangely well furnished cavern, and warm, tender feelings, and the lovely visage of a fair maiden, but after that... nothing. I assumed I must have been a knight, but to what order did I belong? Why was I left here to rot? Who had done this to me? And why? I had no answers.

Time passed slowly as I trudged on through the barren wastes, lost in thought. I glanced to my left hand, where a ring rested on my finger. It was a silvery black band with a large, blue tearstone set into it. I don't know where it came from, or why I even wore it, but every time I glance at it, I get a short tinge of what I assume to be the feeling called sadness. It's been so long since I've truly had emotion that I have trouble remembering what it's like. All I've known for so long is just this empty, deep cold.

Eventually, I draw closer to the bell tower, close enough to see that it is crumbling and falling apart as well. Part of it has collapsed, a few errant bricks lying around from whatever caused it, but it still stands. An iron barred door is situated in the crumbling, gray surface. I make to go open it and go inside, till I hear the sounds of a fire crackling, yet also some sort of odd yet soothing humming. Curious, I glance about, searching for the source of the noise. I quickly find it to be a small fire made up of bones and ashes, a coiled sword in the midst of the flames, situated just a few yards from the door.

The flames, however, are what truly catch my eye; there is something unnatural, almost otherworldly, about them. Their dance is... hypnotic. Enticing. I feel the urge to rest by the fire, and with little thought about why, I stride over and do so. It fills me with something I have not felt in a long, long time, something I have craved: warmth. My eyes bore into the flames, entranced by the odd yet alluring dance. My thoughts wander once more.

Why am I here? What is my purpose? As of the moment, I'm just following vague urges, but what am I really doing here? Is there some beast I'm supposed to slay? It doesn't seem likely, since I see nothing living anywhere near me, or at all. Is there some holy item I am to procure? I hum in thought. It could be. This bell tower could hold anything, but I don't remember being sent on any such quest. Then again, I don't really remember anything. In fact, I only barely remember my name. I believe it was... Octavius? Yes, that sounds about right. I sighed, pulling myself up and reluctantly away from the warmth of the fire.

I'm not going to get any answers by staring at the fire. No, the only likely place I'll get answers is the bell tower in front of me. With that thought, I make my way over to the iron barred door, grasp the handle, and ease it open. It swings ajar with more ease than I thought it would, considering its rusted state, but I disregard that and quickly step inside the tower. A flight of spiraling stone steps greet me, reaching up towards the top of the tower. With nowhere else to go, I climb the steps. Eventually, I reach the part of the top that is crumbling, and walk up a few more steps to be greeted with the sight of the bell that was tolling earlier. I scan the area. There is no one here... How could the bell have chimed by itself? I then notice a rotting, ancient corpse just under the bell. Walking over to it, I see that it bears flowing black robes, though they are torn and have been eaten away by moths and time. Clutched in the hand of the corpse is a piece of parchment, and I grab it out of curiosity. Unfolding it, I begin to read the weathered note.

The corpse has been prepped and primed, and the sarcophagus is ready to receive it. The construction of the tomb was completed last week, and thus, everything is set to put this traitor to rest. Arduous as it was to venture this far into the deserts of Zebran, and even more so to ferry materials and tools, it is all worth the price to condemn the Heathen here. We have built a bell tower nearby, as well, by the orders of the Zebra High Priest, although the exact reason was never specified. All they would say was that, "Their journey is far from over," whatever that could mean. Our Majesty simply said it would be a fitting punishment, and that was all we needed to know.

I am to remain here, to watch after the tower and the Heathen, lest any unsavory sorts feel the need to waken him. Though I doubt any will feel the need to venture so far for one such as He.

Heathen? Is that my title? What deeds did I perform to garner such an accolade? And how terrible were those deeds if they felt the need to place me so far away? What did I do? Who was I? These questions and more swam in my head, only serving to further confuse and befuddle me. Then, I noticed a mark on the note of an eye surrounded by thorns. The sight sends a quick rush of memories to my mind.

A knock sounded from my chamber door.

"Knight-Scholar? Art thou awake?" came a feminine voice. I glanced from my work at my desk to the door briefly.

"Yes, little Luna, I am quite awake. Please, come in," I responded. I heard the creak of hinges and small feet approaching as the young mare stopped next to my chair.

"What art thou working upon?" She asked. I turned to see the midnight blue furred muzzle and cerulean eyes of the young Princess Luna, her pale blue mane looking to have been groomed recently. She was just about tall enough now to be able to see over my desk.

"Well, with your Father's permission to have my own Order, I found it only fitting to make an emblem for it," I explained, gesturing to my work.

"Oh," she said simply as I turned back to my task, her watching all the while. I continued to draw out the symbol I had devised, being careful with each stroke of the paintbrush as I finished part of a thorn around the eye. A few moments passed until the young princess spoke again. "Would it not be easier to use an easel?" she asked. I sighed.

"Yes, but sadly, I have no funds to buy one," I informed her. A silence fell once more as I resumed my painting. I sighed once more and put down my brush after noticing the young mare was still there. "Is there something you need from me, little Luna?" I asked as I swiveled my chair to face the filly. She fidgeted a bit, her hands behind her back from which her wings sprouted from, and she was balancing on the soles of her feet, shaking her glittering dark blue nightgown somewhat. Her horn, while larger than most unicorns, was still small compared to her sister Celestia's as it jutted out from her forehead.

"W-We would like to hear a tale of thine h-h-homeland before We retire..." she stuttered, obviously a little abashed. I sighed and shook my head.

"You know you could have just as good, if not better, tales from your father, don't you?" I queried. Her ears went flat against her head.

"Yea, but... But Father is always so busy, a-and he is not around as much as thee..." Luna replied. I sighed deeply, thinking it over. Eventually, I decided I could spare some time to help her sleep with one of my stories.

"Very well. Come, let us go to your room and I'll regale you with another tale," I conceded, getting up from my chair. The blue alicorn beamed and jumped in joy.

"Hooray!" she cried happily. I smiled and shook my head as we walked out of my room. This little girl is too cute to ignore.

I paused as the memory faded. I looked down at the note in my grasp. This mark... It was one of my own order? How could that be? It didn't seem logical for my own order to seal me away and guard me like this, much less call me a heathen. What could I have done for such drastic measures to be employed? And who was this Princess Luna? Was I indeed a knight, and in service to the king of some kingdom? I deduced it must be so, if this Princess calling me a 'Knight-Scholar', was any indication, but I had never heard of a 'Knight-Scholar', only a knight. I decided I would have to put those thoughts away for another time, lest I become so mired in my thoughts that I would be wide open for attack.

I placed the note in my satchel, before walking over to the edge of the tower, gazing out at the expanse of sands lit only by pale moonlight. It seems I found only more questions, and the only option left for me is to search elsewhere for more concrete answers. Which means likely crossing this desert. With a sigh, I began my descent of the tower, and in short time made it back to the fire outside. I glimpsed at it briefly, not truly wanting to leave a source of warmth, but knowing that I must, I began my journey across the desert.

Well, there you go, the first chapter of my newest Displaced story. I hope it was to your liking. I know I like it. Strange, that. Normally, I'm not proud of my work, but for once, I am. This heat must be getting to me. Anyway, thanks for reading!

—Timeless Celestial