She had no idea how or why she had ended up here. 

It was like waking up from a long dreamless night, or taking the first breath after being rescued from the depths of an unfathomable ocean. She felt numb, almost paralysed. Her thoughts were sluggish, as if her brain had not yet found back all its purchase on reality.

Where was she? She looked around, but only saw stones. Staggered stones, all the way up to a partly ruined wall which blotted out the rest of the view. Some were ancient, even hoary, their edges chopped and blunted by the slow, but ruthless, hunger of the oozy moss. Some were new, sharp and glossy; weird designs had been carved on them. She knew she was familiar with them. She knew she should have recognised their meaning. But, inexplicably, she couldn’t remember.

She could only flounder for questions.

Suddenly, she realised that even her name was gone from her mind. 

A squall blew, keening through the branches of the battered trees. Sleet pelted the already sodden ground, crackling against the stones. She shuddered, more from surprise than cold, and looked at the sky. Under the leaden, sullen sky, wisps of darker clouds scudded across from horizon to horizon.

[i]What a forlorn place[/i], she thought. She tried to rouse herself from her numbness. [i]I can’t stay there. There must be an exit, somewhere to find shelter in, somewhere to get answers from…[/i] She gazed around again, squinting, and eventually spotted a rusty gate in the distance.

She was about to set out towards it when it opened with a grating sound which was almost carried away by the wind. 

Then she saw them coming through the opening.

She saw them and froze, as an icy chill swept down her spine: two blobs of light, two large will-o’-the-wisps floating over the ground. The first was huge, white but somehow both fuzzy and lambent, much like a gently glowing globe seen through frosted glass. The other was smaller, but sharper. It looked like a ball of darkness, with a slight navy blue nimbus.

She couldn’t move a muscle nor utter a cry. Somehow, she was transfixed. All she could do was watching in horror as the blobs glided closer, undisturbed by the gale. 

And as they drew nearer, she realised she could make out scattered syllables. The blobs spoke, spoke with dampened, echoing voices, as if from the far end of a corridor.

It stroke her that she knew those voices. But memory kept eluding her. 

Why?

In a matter of seconds the syllables gelled into words.

“… long enough. It’s been twenty-seven hours now. Is she here?” a first voice asked – it was impossible to tell which blob was speaking.

“Definitely,” an other voice responded. 

“I wonder how you can be so certain.”

“I wonder how you can miss that,” the second voice answered. “Exploring the dreamland has made me more receptive. But even if you cannot sense her, you know the lore.”

The blobs hovered for a short while, then resumed their course.

“Does she know we’re here?” the first voice asked.

“Probably, though she might perceive us differently. Legends say—”

“I know the legend as well as you do…" the first voice cut in, then sighed.

The two blobs were now only a few feet away. They stopped again, and there was silence for a time, silence only broken by the wailing of the wind.

“I always thought she… she would…” the first voice said at last. It faltered.

“No,” the second voice picked up. “You pulled the wool over your eyes all these years.” A sigh. “You know it’s not in our power to grace, and that the grace was only given to those who witnessed the beginning. All others must pass, even those you bless. It’s the law.”

“But why her? And why here?”

“Who can say?” 

What were those beings speaking about? Why had they come here to simply stop in front of her and stand still? 

[i]Maybe?[/i] An idea popped in her mind. [i]Maybe they could explain what had happened to her?[/i]

Summoning all her courage up, she ventured a trembling: “Hello?” 

There was no immediate response.

“Did you hear something?” the first voice asked after a while.

“Only the wind,” the second answered.

“I could swear there was something else… I… No. I’m sorry…”  

A long pause. 

Then, in a somber tone: “Goodbye now, dear Twilight…”