As she exited the cave, Daring was assaulted by sunlight and caressed by a cool wind. She blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust. Not only were they out, they weren’t even in the storm anymore. Ahead of her, lying beneath the blessedly blue sky, was a long, thin valley nestled deep within the mountains. Literally; she and Fallende were on a cliff far above the valley floor and the mountains on either side were vertiginously steep, as if the valley had been violently gouged out from the earth itself. Daring looked up and down the sides of the valley, but she couldn’t see any easy passes. Nothing was getting into the valley without passing through the cave behind her, at least on foot. The ground was dotted irregularly with trees for minimal cover and a river or stream (it was hard to tell from this height) wound its way down the valley like a glittering ribbon.

Fallende leaned forward, her eyes closed, smiling. “Thank the stars we’re done with that blizzard crap,” she whispered. “Kinda makes you forget how bright the sun is.”

“Yeah.” Daring leaned over and looked down the cliff in front of them. It was steep, but not very, and rough. It ought to be easy to climb. She wasn’t going to let a place like this slip by unexplored, not after pushing herself through that blizzard. Definitely one of her least favorite things. “Think you can find us a way down this?”

“Oh, sure.” Fallende had her bags off in seconds. “This’ll be a frigging cakewalk.” And then she was crawling down the cliff like a spider.

“Hey! Girls!” yelled Daring into the cave. “Get over here and check this out!”

Rangifera, Stalwart, and Windrose were out of the cave in seconds. When they saw the valley, their jaws dropped as one. “I’ll be,” whispered Rangifera. “That’s… just… Dang.”

“I know!” said Stalwart. She sounded giddy. “A more picturesque view I’ve never seen. It’s like a postcard!” She held up her hooves, making a frame, and nodded to herself. “Yep, yep, that’s a mighty fine postcard right there. Wonder what the text would say, though. I mean, you practically need to force your way through Tartarus to get here. ‘A nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to travel here’, maybe? No, no, too wordy. Maybe-”

“W-where’s Fallende?” asked Windrose.

“Finding us a way down the cliff,” Daring said. She looked over the edge; Fallende was about two-thirds down and still climbing easily.

“We’re going down?” Windrose adjusted her bags. “Not that I mind the nice weather or anything, but shouldn’t we focus on, you know-” She pointed back into the cave. “-the part of the land that’s actually strange?”

Daring sighed. “Do I have to remind you that no traveller has mentioned anything like this? We’re the first ones here, ever! I’d bet money, and a lot of it, that whatever’s going on with Needle Vale begins in here.”

“I’d bet money, and a lot of it,” added Rangifera, “on that same thing, my cautious companion. Strange blizzard hiding a cave on the very end of a valley, complete with a skull on the wall, that leads to a whole ’nother valley? Suspicious is what I’d call it. Maybe whatever’s going on with Needle Vale is meant to protect something in here.” She gestured across the valley with her spear.

“That’s a pretty big leap,” Windrose said, her voice a touch accusatory.

“You sometimes have to make those leaps,” said Rangifera, shrugging. “We don’t know a thing yet about this valley.”

“And besides,” Stalwart piped up, “look at how beautiful this place is. You’ll get paid for hiking through some of the most spectacular land in Equestria!”

“We’re not in Equestria,” Windrose muttered.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” Stalwart waved a hoof dismissively. “Really, what’s not to like about this? Especially after the blizzard. And you’re complaining about… what, exactly? Getting off-track when we don’t even know what the track is? I-”

“Shut up,” snapped Windrose. “I get it.”

Stalwart kept talking, but Daring tuned her out. From the looks of things, so did Windrose and Rangifera, as everyone took a seat to wait for Fallende. Daring looked over the valley again, still in awe at the sight, before stealing a quick glance at the others. Stalwart either didn’t know or didn’t care that nobody was listening to her (the latter, more likely) and Rangifera was taking the view as if she was an artist committing a scene to memory to be replicated later.

But something new was up with Windrose. Her expression started out neutral, but it slowly became confused, then concerned. “Hold, hold up. I… just realized… there’s nothing out here on any map,” she said, frowning. “Just mountains. You’d think a few passing pegasi would’ve seen something like this. I mean, look at it. It can’t be that hard to miss, can it?”

Daring chuckled. “And that’s a bad thing why?”

“I dunno,” admitted Windrose. “But it’s… kinda ominous, you know? The compass, that skull, now this…”

“Will you relax?” asked Rangifera, poking at Windrose. “Not everything strange is bad, my paranoid partner. Protection, remember? Perhaps there’s an illusion that we can’t see.”

“Maybe,” Windrose mumbled, “but I just… feel like… effh, never mind.” She quickly looked at one of the valley walls — a position that kept anyone else from looking her in the eye.

Daring almost said something about embracing the unexpected, but cut herself off. Windrose was here by chance, a last-second addition. She wouldn’t get the same feelings as anyone else, that thrill of discovery when confronted with the unknown. True, things like the skull were a little bit… strange, but the only reason the familiar was familiar was because it was no longer strange. Once they learned a few more things about Needle Vale, they wouldn’t find anything in here strange anymore. Probably.

Fallende popped over the cliff again, grinning broadly. “Found a route. Easy as pie. Come on, I’ll show you.”

They didn’t notice the jump.

Rangifera laid another stack of wood next to the fire. “If that’s not enough,” she said to no one in particular, “I’ll eat my hat.”

“Better get a hat, then,” said Fallende.

“Yep.”

Daring took a sip of her stew. Salty, but good enough. She leaned back and sighed. It was so good to be out of that blizzard, to be able to see the sky and the sun. The advanced sunset cast long shadows through the valley, but with their fire crackling merrily, they had nothing to worry about with regards to the dark.

When she sat up again, she noticed that Stalwart was halfheartedly stirring her stew and staring at the cliff as if she were disturbed by something. “Something wrong?” Daring asked.

“It’s probably nothing,” Stalwart said, “but does anyone remember coming down from the cave?” She jabbed a hoof at the cliff. “I’ll admit my memory isn’t what it used to be, but I was looking up at it, and I realized I couldn’t remember a thing about it.”

Fallende snorted. “Really? You’re concerned about that? I think-”

“No,” said Windrose, staring at nothing. “She’s right. I… I can’t remember anything, either.” She shook her head and smacked it. “It’s like there’s a hole in my memory. More than just the cliff, even.”

And now that Daring was actually paying attention, the gap was so glaring she couldn’t believe she’d missed it. Fallende had just returned to the top of the cliff, and then she was sitting here at the fire with no in-between state. She examined her surroundings. The forest was unfamiliar, the trees strange and patchwork; why hadn’t she noticed that? The cold wormed its way into her furs and clawed at her skin.

“I’ve got the same hole in my memory, too,” said Rangifera. “I was getting ready to climb down, then I was laying out those logs, and-” She blinked twice. “Wait, what if- sonofagun.” She bolted for her supplies and tore through the bag like it held a bomb detonator. Whenever she found one of her meal packs, she put it out the ground, laying them out in neat lines.

“You think she’s overreacting?” Fallende “whispered” to Windrose, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I think she’s overreacting.”

“I- am not- over- reacting!” Rangifera nearly screamed. She actually sounded scared. She wasn’t taking out any meals anymore, but whatever she was looking for, she hadn’t found it.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“The matter, my dismissive dunce,” yelled Rangifera, “is that we’ve only been on the road for two days-” She stepped away from her bag, a haunted look on her face, made even worse by her scars. “-but I’ve apparently eaten five days’ worth of food.”

After a single, shocked moment, everyone ran for their own supplies. Daring rummaged hastily through her premade meals, pulling them out one at a time, sweating in spite of the temperature. Unknowingly missing a few days’ supplies could doom them out here. How many days ought she have enough food for? They’d packed for twenty, been travelling for two, so… eighteen. One day, two days, three, four… And soon she was at sixteen… seventeen… eighteen.

Nineteen.

She counted again. Nineteen.

Daring stared at the extra bundle of food. Where it’d come from held a lot of implications, none of them pleasant. “Um, girls?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level. “How, how many days do you have enough food for?”

“Fifteen,” said Rangifera promptly.

“Eighteen,” Windrose said. It was hard to tell what emotion she was feeling from her voice, some strange mixture of confusion, relief, and guilt.

“Seventeen,” Fallende said tightly.

“And sixteen for me,” said Stalwart. “Huh. That’s strange. I wonder why we all have different amounts? And, ah… huh, we all have enough for everyone to have seventeen days’ worth. Strange indeed.”

They quickly redistributed food so everyone had an even amount. “So,” Daring said, staring at the fire. “On the one hoof, we’re in unexplored territory, where we could find just about anything. On the other, that includes sudden, probably magic-induced amnesia. We’re already missing a day.” She looked at the assembled team. “Thoughts?”

Windrose slowly raised a hoof, quickly lowered it, quickly raised it again, slowly lowered it again-

“Yeah?” Daring said.

“Well, it’s-” Windrose ruffled her mane. “You all already know what I’m gonna say, right?”

“Give up and head home,” grunted Rangifera.

“Yeah, but- This time, just- think about it,” said Windrose. She stood up and started pacing. “We just climbed down a cliff and lost a day for no reason. I’ll-” She swallowed. “I’ll admit, I… was being a bit of a wuss back in Needle Vale-”

“A bit of a wuss?” Fallende snorted.

“-but this is actually hurting us,” Windrose continued, “not just some spooky thing you see in a haunted house set up for Nightmare Night. We didn’t just lose a day, we also didn’t move for whatever reason, so whatever got to us screwed with our behavior, too. How do we know we won’t go to sleep tonight, wake up tomorrow, and tomorrow won’t be three weeks from now and we’re starving to death in a cave system or something?”

A salient point, Daring had to admit. The problem with mental magic was how hard it was to detect. Other spells at least glowed. But this… This was something else. They’d have to pay constant attention to their own memories just to avoid being lost. And there was always the possibility that the magic that stole their memories could steal their minds, too, making them… do something. Daring didn’t want to think of what.

Windrose kept talking. “And I’m just assuming that that cliff is the one we came down. Maybe we’re near one that looks a lot like it.” She pointed at the sun, just below the mountains on what Daring thought was the western side. “Do we even know that’s a sunset? It- It could be a sunrise and we’re- somehow on the northern end of the valley.”

“Easy,” said Stalwart with obviously faked confidence. “We’ll check-”

“The compasses don’t work, genius,” Fallende snapped. “Did you forget what brought us here in the first place?”

“But maybe, in here…” Daring said. She looked at her compass and seemed to be rewarded with the needle pointing solidly to her left. Then she rotated, and the needle still pointed solidly to her left, as if nothing was pulling it one way or another. Rather than working wrongly, the compass now wasn’t working completely. “Nope. Still nothing.”

“Great,” Windrose said flatly. She took a deep breath. “I’m- not going to run out on you all or anything, but- At least give it some thought and don’t just dismiss me. Please?”

No one said anything. The fire crackled and the wind blew and the trees rattled. There were no birds. Rangifera took a breath. “This isn’t what I expected,” she said, “but I didn’t come this far to turn back at the first sign of danger. I’d like to keep going, but I’m not the one funding this expedition.” She turned her eyes to Daring. “I’ll go however you go, no questions asked.”

Everyone stared at Daring, and she was reminded why she preferred to work alone. She glared at the fire so she wouldn’t have to look at the team. Her team, the ones who were only out here because of her. Anything that happened to them was her fault, one way or another. Whether they went home wealthy or died. She preferred it when the only one she had to worry about was herself, but that hadn’t been an option.

The smart thing to do would be to turn back, she knew. Go straight back to Light’s Edge, tell about the hidden valley she’d found, get some ecological arcanists or whatever the term was to take a look at it. But… But that was way too easy. She’d been through worse. Maybe, maybe this amnesia was a one-time thing. She couldn’t just let the secret of Needle Vale sit now. The proof that she was getting closer to the heart of it all was just stacking up. Nopony ever achieved greatness if they turned back once the going got tough.

“We’re staying,” Daring said. “We’ve come too far to just turn around.” Windrose groaned quietly, but everyone else seemed satisfied. “But we’re turning back once we have five days’ worth of supplies, no matter what. I don’t care if we’re at the base of a temple made of solid gold when that happens, we’re going back to Light’s Edge.”

“Something, at least,” mumbled Windrose.

“And try to keep track of your memories.” Daring cringed at how strange that sounded. “Review them every now and then. If you ever find yourself missing time, tell me. We need to keep track of time. It might get worse the further into this valley we get.”

“They’re memories,” Rangifera mused to herself, “we shouldn’t have to review them every now and then. Hard habit to form.” She shrugged. “But I’ll do my best to keep track of time.”

“Sounds good,” said Stalwart. She craned her neck and looked at the sun. “And, ah, the sun’s just a little bit lower. That way’s west, so we are at the bottom of the first cliff.”

Daring wasn’t sure whether that was reassuring or not. “Right,” she said. “We’ll pack up and head north tomorrow morning.”

Nothing more was said for a while. Everyone just sat in the chill and watched the fire as the sun slipped lower. Eventually, Windrose trotted over to her tent. She came back out with a quill and a stack of parchment Daring recognized as her map sheets. Windrose wordlessly sat down and flipped to the second sheet of parchment, the first one already covered with the first day’s map.

But instead of drawing anything, Windrose froze. After a second, she said, “Okay, that’s, that’s creepy.” She held up the sheet, showing a rough sketch of the area surrounding the campsite. “That’s, I know I made that, I recognize my sketching style, but… I can’t remember any of it. And…” She fanned back through some of the other sheets. “Yep, I also drew out the part of Needle Vale we went through earlier and the cave.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, muttering something under her breath. Daring sympathized. Windrose got up and said, “Going to bed. Wake me if something else goes wrong. G’night.” She vanished inside her tent.

“Going to bed sounds good,” said Rangifera, standing up. “G’ni-”

Stalwart coughed. “Rangifera, remember the, ahm, wolf-repelling spells we discussed this morning? Yesterday morning. Let’s, let’s get to work on them.”

“…Right,” Rangifera said with a sigh. “Sure.” They put their heads together and started talking magic.

Daring and Fallende looked at each other for maybe half a second before Fallende mumbled something and vanished inside her tent. Daring gave a few reassuring words to Rangifera and Stalwart before going to her own tent. A quick moment of looking found her journal, and she flipped to where she’d left off. The only entry was from the first day of travelling; “yesterday’s” page was still blank. Hesitantly, Daring put quill to paper and began writing.

I don’t know what to make of today, because it wasn’t just today…

That night, nothing bothered them as they slept. It was a small comfort.