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Trapped in a loop of lives, Dreamwalker awakens once more. His memory wiped for the most part - as usual - as the next cycle starts.

I wasn’t sure how much time I spent writhing on the ground. I felt grass and dirt rub against my coat. But only on my right side, since I somehow did not figure out just yet how to… flip over. So my right side was getting damp and cold and my left side felt like it was getting cooked. Slooowly. Almost carefully. By a midday sun, as was my best guess.
There were trees somewhere nearby. I couldn’t exactly tell the distance, but I had ‘seen’ thick brown trunks or what I believed to be trunks and dense green canopy. And I could hear birds. Right now, with my hearing all messed up, I really hated those birds. Their chirping drilled into my brain and hurt what felt like a sensitive and probably important area.
I did not know anything, initially. I tried to remember. Where I was. How I got here. Why I was here in the first place. And then, with dread creeping up my spine, I dared ask the even scarier questions. Like: Why my body failed me so utterly. Or… you know… who I even was.
My name was Dreamwalker. Basically the only real, tangible information I started with. I could obviously name things. Grass. Birds. Trees. Equestria. Oh, that one was interesting. Ponies. Pegasi. Earth ponies. Night sky, sun, tea, water, rainspooncloudwhitetip—
Stop.
That got a little out of hoof.
I couldn’t help but recognize those trees as the Everfree Forest. Mostly because the trees there grew wild and untamed, and they looked the part. The more I tried to focus on those trees, the more I felt like I was close to getting another one of those shiny rocks from the bottom of the pond. And then, it happened. I would later come to call those instances ‘flashes of insight’, mostly because that sounded cool. It was a horribly mixed-up series of mental images, mangled dialogue and other impressions - sensory overload in way too short of a time to process it all in detail. It did not so much ‘answer questions’ as it imbued some unspoken wisdom. Evil trees with scary faces, evil flowers with trickster nature, evil manticores and evil cockatrices and evil enchantresses which would put me in evil trances…
Wait — actually, Zecora was quite friendly. She was a zebra. An alchemist of sorts, as far as I could tell. She lived deep in the forest — surviving and thriving, somehow — and made potions and remedies. Maybe I should try to crawl my way to her and ask if she had any idea how to restore memories? Thinking about how her answer would probably rhyme made me chuckle. I immediately regretted my life choices as the migraine made itself known again.
My throat was sore. My voice was almost non-existent. Everything burned. It pushed tears into my eyes, so I closed them again and tried to calm down.
That was when I heard her hum. The melody was off-kilter, which was strange, because I was certain that this voice — a voice I vaguely started to recognize — was indeed a beautiful singing voice.

The rest of the story is on FiMFiction, under the alias ‘Voidwalker’! (note that it’s rated mature)