Whimsey comes from Tales of Ponyville. Her full name is Whimsey Weatherbee. In the webcomic, she's a small dragon, about the same size as Spike, and she has weather powers. I depict here as older, somewhat larger, and still living with dragons, albeit, she lives apart from them. Her home is on the borders of the Dragon Pride-lands and Equestria.

CHEKHOV'S! GUN!

Base Camp

The wind is making a terrible racket outside our tent. I thank Faust that I have a double layer of flannel, made by Rarity, on. Without it, I doubt my Sunshine Belt self would last the night. I'd be hard pressed to tell if wind comes from windigos or not. Sure seems like it.

"Are you sure they're here?"

"Yes, Twilight. I can sense them… Why? Do you have reservations of my skills?"

"No, Archmage. I don't doubt in the slightest. But we are in the Pride-lands. Judging by the way our goodwill ambassadors reacted to us, I have- concerns about how well this mission of ours will go."

"Spike's right: you worry too much."

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"If it's anything to do with the Sulfur character… he was asking for it. Nobody treats my wife that way and gets away with it."

Twilight doesn't respond and I don't think i blame her. After Princess Celestia's illness, and Princess Luna's campaign out east against the Centaurs, it's a small wonder we would even be going on an operation like this. Princess Cadence, on the other hoof, seems to think this is an important task. That's why I got sent along. Twilight could have handled this herself.

"Excuse me?"

Twilight and I turn to a female dragon that just entered the tent. Unlike some of the others, she is well versed in pony customs. She also seems a lot less unnerved by my presence.

"Yes, Whimsey?"

"I just wanted you and the Archmage to know, some humans were spotted just downrange of here. They were seen ducking into an abandoned den."

"Where exactly?"

"A days climb, going east."

Twilight consults her map, "That will put us dangerously close to Centaur territory…"

"They won't see us," I sound more confident than I felt, "I got just the trick for them"

"I hope it works… You said Sulfur would sustain some minor scrapes-"

"And he ended up a double amputee. In case you haven't noticed, Twilight, Arcanus Sapiens is not as precise as Arcanus Equus. You ponies have drawing mana down to an art. I have to relearn two hundred centuries worth of magical skill. Without, I may add, any tutelage."

"Fine!" I can see Whimsey light a little at that. Our guide in this realm has been very helpful to us; I have a working hypothesis that she is fascinated by humans. And she has little love for certain ponies, Twilight belonging to that category.

"Whim, is there any way we can sneak up that area without attracting Centaur attention?"

"You bet there is! I know just the place…"

Morning, along the Eastern face of the Craggy Mountains

"Jesus, is that a view!"

"It's too bad we aren't here to sight see."

"True…"

"Archmage, over here!"

Go screaming, come running…

"What is it, Whim?"

"Look…"

From outstretched talon, I see it: signs of human habitation. A piece of animal hide, tanned and coated in tar, hangs over the mouth of a cavern. I can't smell any smoke, though. Can they still be here?

"How-"

"Fitting?"

"I was going to say barbaric."

"They're humans, Sparklebutt. They survive in the most adverse of conditions. What they do to obtain that survival may not be pretty, but is is effective."

"Do you think you can find 'em, Archmage."

"If they're here, Whimsey, I'll find-"

What is that song?

"Do you guys here that?"

Twilight asks, "Here what?"

"Singing… It's humans- singing! They're here!"

"Oh, wow…" Whim says dazed.

"Do you hear it now, Whim?"

"I do. It sounds- eerie…"

"It's a lament. I think- It feels like someone died. Can you hear it Twilight?"

Sternly, Twilight shouts, "I can't hear anything over this wind!"

I hear it, though. Above the tumult of wind, I hear sadness. Tears are forming in my eyes. If I were back home, I'd have to hide that fact or brush it off as the wind making me teary.

"Okay, they're nearby. I'm gonna try something."

I'm trying to think of something that the Terrans might have used while in communion. That's when it hits me. So I start humming The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Stirring, proud, and most importantly, it's in a key that can be heard even with the thunderous wind in our faces.

Hmm, I wonder what's taking so long. I'm humming loud enough to wake the dead- Oh, wait, here they come. Wow, this is- more than I expected. The dragons reports were erroneous. This was no gaggle of human. This was a colony of Terrans. The armor they wear is worn out and rusted in places, but I can still see the military and academic dedication in their stances. The women have tears falling, the men, though stoic, have a melancholy to their faces. Twilight, I see, is having trouble understanding them. That's okay. Terran died out here a long time ago…

One of the women in the crowd steps up.

["Good morning."]

Wow, I didn't think Twilight could gasp that hard! I swear, she just did a triple take.

["Good morn to you, stranger. How is it that you can speak our tongue."]

["I was instructed by the Hand That Mourns."]

I see… That name still has resonance among these people. Good.

["Pray tell, Stranger, how did the Hand That Mourns instruct you. She is many moons into her rest."] the woman said.

I explain, ["She left a message, for me and all those that follow."]

["A cryptogram?"] she asks.

["More like hologram."] I reply.

The leader returns to her fold, speaking with several others. I think this might be a council of sorts. Many in the conversation have more armor than hair.

["Praytell, Stranger, but what might your name be?"]

["I was named Steven Ambrose, but the Hand That Mourns named me Archmage."]

The name is enough to send everyone in the crowd on their knees. I hate when they get all "we're not worthy" on me.

["Forgive us, Archmage, for our insolence. We had lost hope- We were certain we would have our end here."]

["Nothing to forgive, really. I was the one late to the party."]

["Forgive us, Archmage,"] That's one of the council members, a sage old man with a House of Reason sigil on his armor, ["but why are you consorting with a Dragon and an Equine?"]

["Sefiroth! That is the Archmage! We do not question-"]

["I will question the wisdom of our savior whilst he cavorts with creatures such as these that sought our extinction so many millennium ago. You, of all people, should know of our ancestors plight, Aerith!"]

A fairly racous arguement breaks out as both Aerith and Sefiroth try to shout each other down. Can't be having that, now.

"OY!"

The two combatants stop their squabbling.

["It's Aerith, right?"]

["Excuse me?"]

["Your name is Aerith, right?"]

["Yes, Archamge."]

Good. I didn't wanna keep referring to her as The Leader.

["I understand you're councilman's distress. I would be just as unnerved if I was asked to listen to somebody who consorted with an enemy of mine. To answer your question, Sefiroth, was it?, times have changed. The Ponies found me when I was first brought here. I was- wounded, even onto Deaths bed. The nursed me back to health, helped me adjust to this world and it's- quirks, and I even found love among them. I think you'll find that time and tide and changed things since last your people were on the surface."]

Twilight isn't following any of this, but I see Whimsey is tracking it along rather easily. She's even providing color commentary. Excellent.

["Why should we trust one who is fouled by Equines?"]

["What part of Archmage,"] I light up my staff for effect here, ["do you not understand."]

Again, with the "we're not worthy" routine.

["Okay, OKAY, stop that!] Geez! [I am not a god!"]

["Archmage!"]

A young woman parts from the crowd and judging from the rags she wears, she isn't of majority age yet.

["Have you name, Miss?"]

["I am Tifa, Milord."]

Good God…

["Archmage or Steve will do, Tifa."]

["Uh, Archmage- We- Our Matron- She is ill. Can- Can you cure her?"]

["Won't know till I try. Aerith, can you bring her here?"]

There's no hesitation. I see the crowd part to bring an older woman, most likely at middle age, brought out on litter. Wow, even without a medical degree, I can see she's in dire straights.

["What is her name?"]

Both Tifa and Aerith answer me, ["Celes."]

"Stand back, I'm gonna try Science!"

The Terrans look at me confused. I should have known better to speak Equestrain with them present. Even Twilight seems ill at ease with my joke. Oh, well…

"CURAJA!"

There we go! The color in Celes' cheeks, which was ashen before, is turning back into a baby pink. I can hear her breathing much more smoothly. I think she may have bronchitis, but my spell seems to have cured her of it. Excellent!

["Who-?"]

["Matron Celes, it is the Archmage!"]

"Hi!"

Matron Celes eyes go as wide as dinner plates. Oh, if I had a camera right now…!

["By the Maker…! The Archmage…"]

I nod, ["The Hand That Mourns gave me a message to pass onto you."]

["The Hand That- What- What did she say?"]

["It is time."]

["By all things bright, it has come to pass."]

I nod once more, ["We'll stick around here until you're well enough to travel. Then we're getting you off this forsaken rock."]

I see Celes smile. She and Hand That Mourns could be sisters. Le sigh. Just another day in the life of the Archmage…