The whirlwind of sand tore across the desert, the occasional streak of red or flash of purple breaking the constant tan color. She remained in the center, harsh, hot wind biting away at her now seemingly raw pelt. She could feel it speaking to her, telling her of its history and of the surrounding environment in a tone of speech lacking voice or sound. There was a village not far ahead, one which had managed to remain out here all this time, all but cut off from society. She didn't want to scare the inhabitants, though, so she couldn't just drop out of the center of a tornado and act like nothing had happened, or ponies would think her crazy.
Not that that would be an incorrect assumption, she noted to herself.
Still, if she was going to start anew, she would have to show up in town through mundane means. She could claim to have gotten lost in a sandstorm, a rather accurate and credible reason for being in the figurative-- possibly literal-- middle of nowhere. Yes, that would make sense; a young astronomer-slash-magician who lived on the edge of the desert getting lost in a sandstorm. The only problem was that if Applejack and her family were anything to go by, many of these cut-off hooligans would most likely try to get her home, and that simply would not do.
At any rate, her ride had arrived at its destination, an old gravel road, and had continued on without her.
She stood there, sand still clinging to her coat, by the side of an ancient rundown path, one way leading to civilization, the other leading to more madness and aridity. Shattered Nova may have been, indeed, out of her mind, but she bore no desire to die, lest her trial and planning be for naught. Curiously enough, it appeared that the direction to her right was the right path, and, being the madmare she now proudly claimed to be, she dictated her direction by a simple phrase; right is always right. Having been a mare of science, she knew this to be nothing more than a superstitious claim, but for the moment, it did have a bit of logic to it. And so she went right.
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Less that an hour later, but more than fifteen minutes, she found herself at the edge of a puny little townstead made up of scarcely more than twenty buildings and a water tower. It clearly wasn't much, but it was a place where she could begin. After all, many had to rise to greatness rather than be raised to the position, as demonstrated by a certain self-important stallion who considered himself a part of nobility, despite his being absolutely ignoble.
She strode slowly in, a drop of blood falling from her face and being consumed instantly by the dry dirt, and her head lowered in fatigue. A tumbleweed rolled past in front of her, lightly scoring a set of lines in the dust which the wind erased less than a second later. This place seemed to be her soul manifest; dry and hopeless, yet somehow existent. A pair of eyes peeked out from behind a curtain, soon joined by another, and then a door opening and the clip-clop of hooves. She didn't care, she simply continued on, her path now muddled and unguided.
She felt a hoof on her shoulder and a calm, cool voice speaking to her. "Hey, are you alright there? It's a few days travel to the nearest town, and you aren't carrying anything, so you can't have had any water, could you?"
In reply, she only looked up wearily at the concerned pony, an earth pony. She was a dull red, so much like the twirling dust, with a similarly drab yellow mane. But her eyes stood out. They shone a brilliant shade of cyan and betrayed so much of their owner's intentions and emotion.
Her expression shifted slightly away from concern to shock at the sight of the violet unicorn's visage. "Heavens, girl, what did you do, stand in a sandstorm?!" Nova felt a slight smile cross her lips, too small to be discerned with the untrained eye. "Come on, we've got to get you back to Auntie. She'll know what to do." At this she called back to the house she'd come out of, "Gale, stop staring and get out here! We've got a guest!"
A hurricane blue pegasus with a wild grey mane flew out the door and began to tow Nova back to the decrepit-looking cottage she had just come from while muttering something about "darn tourists" that couldn't take care of themselves.
Seeing no reason to maintain consciousness, only to be questioned as soon as she got through the door, Shattered Nova allowed herself to drift into the realm of dreams-- or in her case, nightmares.