He lay there, muted and unaware of what happened...a broken body slowly coming back to the living world, but the stallion didn't know that. He didn't know much. The dirt almost covered him, as if he was buried there intentionally, and his earth-toned coat blended with it.

He lifted from the ground and his eyes shone onto the landscape around. His grey eyes witnessed the meadows and the flowers that blanketed it. He didn't watch in awe while the wind swept at them in a glorious show. No, he didn't question the reasoning of the events that allied to make this moment possible.

He let his wings droop down as the conscience that is Amissus started to examine the damage done to him. He couldn't feel his left wing except the sharp pain when he attempted to fold it. His right wing seemed in a better condition and folded. But, nevertheless, it still hurt. He rubbed his forehead with his hoof, continuing to the tip of his horn. The horn wasn't chipped or warped; he had one thing that came out unscathed. Despite the many lacerations and bruises, he judged himself to be fit for travel. And that's what he did.

Limping his way in a full circle to judge the direction he should take, he hit upon the fact that he awoke at the base of a cliff. He knew now that the only way was the direction he crashed towards. Perhaps destiny gave him this direction, or just dumb intuition told him that the other way laid danger. Either way, the morning Sun was watching him cross that valley.

…

The afternoon slipped to a halt, and Amissus took his resting in a shady grove of trees. He laid his head against the bark of a tree, a mighty oak, and his legs numb after walking what seemed to be the entire Known World. A distant voice tickled his ear, a mare's voice, and he rose upward, looking in her direction.

He sunk back when the voice faded. He was glad she was gone, that she wouldn't have to go through the hassle of tending to his injury.

Just the land and I now…

…

Night had fallen by the time he reached a paved path. The dirt roads had grown comfortable to Amissus, but he was fortunate that he could knock the dirt free from his hooves. He heard the water flowing, amplified by the bridge that arched over the river. A few lengths before the bridge was a signpost. The words glimmered in the bright starlight as the New Moon rested.

He couldn't read the sign's collection of letters, but knew that they said "Ponyville" over the bridge and "Phillydelphia" in the opposite direction. The dirt road he approached from received no recognition. He couldn't decide on the direction to take…

Perhaps the stars will tell me.

He looked up to the infinite pinpricks that pierced the veil of night and entire rips in space that was characterized by nebulas of different colors. He shook his head at his own naiveté.

Well, the display is beautiful, but nothing that could tell me where to go.

He closed his eyes and looked down. The ground in front of him was illuminated: A light, no bigger than a drop of ink, landed down from the sky. He stared at it for a second or two, and it then moved towards the pole, climbed, and flung itself onto the sign that read "Ponyville."

Amissus was taken aback by the sight. He shut his eyes, shook his head, and glanced back at the sign. The light was gone…and he had his directions.

…

An entire day and not another sign of civilization but this road! An entire day of walking and that's the progress I've made?

Amissus let a sigh escape his mouth. Even if it made his lungs burn, it was relief anyways. He lasted through the night by the sanctuary of a bed of dead grass. He also didn't go hungry, for a berry bush wasn't far from where he had slept. His pains had dulled to a comfortable numbness as he walked further down the road, but his mind wasn't comfortable with the numbness. It made this portion of the journey uneasy for Amissus.

By the time the Sun had sunk into the hillsides, still peeking from the tip of them, Amissus noticed that the woodland he was walking through was becoming less and less dense to the point where only a tree or two would be growing individually. That's when a very peculiar cottage came to focus in the dying sunlight.

A small footbridge led over a pond to the front door, the roof was overlain with grass and moss, and holes that served their purpose by sheltering the animals that came to escape the night's arrival. They had good cause to find shelter: the weather was becoming colder now that the Sun had disappeared. He walked over the bridge to the front door to attempt the yield the tenant…whoever it may be.

He raised his hoof to knock, and it began to shake. All at once, the astonishing agony and suffering that he didn't feel when traveling flashed through his body. Tears flowed from his eyes and he attempted to bite back a shout, but he failed and most of it was let free. Its release frightened the birds from their roosts. He fell slowly, fighting the amounting pressure and his fading mind. His eyesight was failing him, but not before he saw the door open and a pale yellow pony with a long pink mane step out and gasp at the pony before her.

As fast as he fell, only one thought managed to run through his head before unconsciousness came over him.