The first thought in Cash’s mind was that he, being a far prettier pony and a much snappy dresser – even if his current pirate rags weren’t that impressive – should be the one that mares were jumping at. His second thought was that Speaker was looking very... weird, like he was feeling a mix of confusion, happiness and sadness.

Speaker would later very much agree with Cash’s assessment, but at the moment the mystery grey-blue mare was fondling his mane, which somehow seemed to be... growing very long.

Fumbling as he tried to get the mare off of him, Speaker found his vision becoming obscured by the mess of black hair falling in his face: “Wha-pffft-stop it!”

Quickly tiring of watching the bizarre display, Cash trotted up to give the impetuous mare a quick jab with his Heaven Thunder Hoof technique – just to fling her off his friend, not necessarily to hurt her.

Raising his right hoof, Cash quickly stopped as the mare noted: “I’ll peck your eyes out if you do that” without ever lifting her gaze from Speaker, somehow saying the words quite clearly without letting go of the long tufts of Speaker’s mane in her mouth.

After a few more moments of elongating hair-pulling, especially around his otherwise well-shaved muzzle, which really didn’t hurt Speaker, but felt very weird, the mare finally relented and let Speaker stand up – which turned out to be another weird experience as Speaker’s mane now reached down to his fetlocks… and he also now sported a mean fu-man-chu style beard.

“Who are you? What is this?” Speaker said, struggling between curiosity and amazement of what had been done to him, as well as fright over the sudden make-over assault, as such abilities were not in any way normal: not even Solars should be able to do something like that.

The mare looked positively offended by Speaker’s question and batted an errant curl from her dreadlock’d mane away from her face: “Don’t you remember me?”

Heart Speaker gave the mare a careful look-over. Purple mane, styled in dreadlocks, coupled with her accent, made her a likely western-born pony, probably a tribal or former tribal – the metallic-blue tattoos that circled her body were… strange, but familiar somehow. Suddenly the mare laughed: “Of course, I probably look different, this will help!”

The mare’s eyes briefly emitted a silvery flash of light that in a matter of seconds spread all over her body with a dim glow as her coat became as quicksilver, flowing into a new form. Hooves became talons, legs a little longer with much thicker joints, her coat sprouted silvery feathers and her head changed and sprouted a beak. From her back a new set of limbs sprouted, quickly popping out feathers as well. The second the new form was set, its silvery appearance changed into real feathers, all of them white. The talons took on a dark color, and from her talons to knees her limbs became banded skin with a bright red color. Her entire form was now one of a strange birdlike creature, but in the guise of a pony. Her beak was long, red like her limbs and slim but larger than a pony. The feathers that made up the tips of her wings and the crest on her head had black and purple tips. The strangest feature was that she was now sporting a third eye on her forehead which appeared to be less an eye and more a silvery orb of infinite depth.

Cash was about to faint, but Speaker just scratched his chin and went: “Oh it's yo-“ as he suddenly made the connection to his ancient memories and stopped mid-sentence.

The former mare, now bird creature leapt at Speaker, hugging him intensely, crying with joy as tears trickled down her feathers: “You remember me!”

The two didn’t notice Cash having fallen over on the ground, as they were quickly engrossed in a quite awkward reunion.

“Your name… Last Shimmer, right?” Speaker hesitantly said, not wanting to get the mare-now-bird monster’s name wrong. But that name, he remembered the name and the form in front of him.

Last Shimmer nodded and wiped tears from her eyes, all three of them: “That is my name – and has been the name of all my incarnations since we last met. Didn’t want to confuse you when we met again”

Furrowing a brow, Speaker noticed Cash’s condition, but didn’t let that bother him too much: “Right, but, eh... what are you?”

Speaker genuinely couldn’t remember what Shimmer was, but he was quite certain that she was of a benign sort, as he remembered quite a lot of her: In his past life the two had apparently even been lovers, he certainly remembered that, but… what was she?

Shifting back into her pony form, Shimmer laughed: “Oh now, you remember my name but not that I’m a Lunar? Really, I’ve had ponies keelhauled for less”

Nodding for a few moments as Speaker was able to make a little more sense of his memories, it became clear to him: Shimmer was a Lunar, exalted by the mercurial god of the moon Luna. If anything she looked rather young, being a good deal smaller than Speaker’s bulky or Cash’s fit body, as if she was just a few years past getting her cutie mark, which was a tribal symbol featuring a stylized feather and body of water.

“But where are the others then?” Speaker said, in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Shimmer’s gaze turned down into the ground: “I don’t know... it’s not been easy being a Lunar the last couple thousand years”

Walking over to give Cash a quick shake, followed by a swift kick in the rump to wake him up, Speaker voiced his surprise of Shimmer’s statement: “Wait, I’ve… Solars have been gone for how long?”

“Almost three thousand years. Now the dragon-blooded hunt us and no sane pony in the civilized parts of creation wants to even be near a Lunar – but hey, now the Solars are coming back, so it’ll all be good, right?”

Speaker wasn’t sure how to reply to that, so without even thinking of it he began to stroke his new beard – it felt weird. Had the Solars really been gone for three thousand years? That shouldn’t have been possible! A Solar exaltation, once free from a previous host would go to heaven, to Yu-Shan and be prepped to return to creation for reincarnation in a new host… that process shouldn’t take more than a few days.

“Wait, how did that happen? Why did the reincarnation cycle stop for Solars, but not Lunars?” Speaker wondered, his mind reeling at the possible implications.

Shimmer simply shook her head and smiled, looking and sounding very much as if she was meeting a long-lost love: “Again, don’t know – but now you’re here again, I’m sure it’ll all be better”

Getting Cash up and introducing Shimmer to him, Speaker suggested that they get back to the business at hand.

“Oh, what’s that then?” Shimmer said, sounding very cheerful and bubbly as she bounced around Speaker.

Speaker took a deep breath and explained that he was quite sure he’d found the tomb of his past self.

Shimmer looked around, not seeing anything: “Well… That does sort of make sense”

Now it was Speaker’s turn to be confused, but Shimmer explained that it had been custom amongst her Lunar elders for millennia to perform a scrying ritual every full moon for one of the Lunars present, to try locate their Solar mates.

“Hold on, Solar mates?” Cash exclaimed, sounding both confused and a little put off. He certainly didn’t want any random animal-beasty pony thing to suddenly pop up and latch on to him.

Shimmer smiled: “You don’t really have a choice – when the Solar exaltations were made, so were the Lunars – we’re bonded, each lunar to a different solar. But don’t worry, it’s a one way bond – you won’t feel anything, unless you want to. Plus I’ve been told of Lunar mates that never had anything to do with their Solar mates, while others…” she said, poking Speaker with a jestful hoof: “…were much closer”

“Hey, we just met…” Speaker protested. Speaker was an old pony, and he’d never married: being a doctor had been his life, helping Lookshyan legionnaire ponies survive the wounds of battle. Mares had been something he’d only dabbled in when invited to brothels by friends or colleagues.

Shimmer shushed at Speaker and continued where she’d originally left off about the whole scrying thing: “Up until recently the scrying always came up blank – but a year ago that changed. Shadow Swimmer’s ritual showed a path north. After that, every scry at full moon showed another Lunar the general direction and location of their mate…” Looking around at the field she noted: “In my case, very precisely – the fates are weird like that”

Speaker was surprised that such a ritual even existed, but Shimmer noted that in the first age such was rarely necessary – but occasionally handy if newly exalted Solars weren’t found quickly.

“So… can we trust her?” Cash asked. Speaker nodded, and Shimmer pointed out that Lunars had been hunted for centuries following the Solars' disappearances, so they were very much in the same boat as the Solars.

Quickly changing the subject, Shimmer once again asked of Speaker’s tomb: “So, this invisible tomb of yours?”

“It is actually more unnoticeable – and protected by... something... that I don’t have the word for or understand, but I think the… way gate? Or something like that, of this land was changed to conceal the tomb” Speaker noted, leading Cash and Shimmer over to a very not-special-looking spot on the field.

Speaker said that he wasn’t sure if he could get the others into the tomb at all: “The tomb is… disconnected, I think, from creation. It’s hard to explain. But bite on to my mane or tail, close your eyes and just follow behind me”

Cash and Shimmer did as instructed and quickly found themselves tumbling down a smooth stone staircase, the three ending in a pile on a landing in front of a smooth stone door decorated in presumably ancient symbols.

The stonework itself looked pristine, as if made the day before. Getting up, the three surveyed the door. There was no visible way of opening it... but then again, most tombs weren’t made to accommodate visitors.

Looking around at the glyphs which covered the walls, Speaker could see that they were some kind of writing. That much was obvious, as he could even remember them appearing on the wall as he… played music to write them. He quickly agreed with himself that such probably made a lot more sense in the first age.

“Can any of you read this?” Speaker asked, only to notice Cash looking as confused as he was over the writing, while Shimmer was deeply engrossed in reading.

“Right, here’s the start. ‘This is the final resting place of the copper spider known as Bright Machine Speaker, builder of the dam that could not feel or be felt, healer of many, bringer of wisdom, giver of gifts and seeker of truth’, it says over on the right” Shimmer said, pausing every now and then to decipher the meaning of the glyphs.

Cash quickly noted the oddity of Speaker’s old and current name: “Hold on – ‘Bright Machine Speaker’? That’s not your name”

“Hmm, what is your name this time around anyway?” Shimmer nonchalantly asked, looking at Speaker.

Thinking for a moment, Speaker replied: “I chose the name of Heart Speaker at my cute-cenera… correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it custom for ponies who drew their second breath to choose a new name again? Like how the dragon-blooded unicorn ponies do in Lookshy?”

Shimmer shrugged: “My Lunar elders had me choose a new name. They said that was the old way, so I think you might be right”
“Then I want to be the Shining Perfect Awesome Ultra bodhisattva of all Knowledge and Wealth!” Cash proudly and loudly declared. Shimmer and Speaker looked at him and shook their heads.

“Right, do the glyphs say how to open the door?” Speaker asked, completely ignoring what Cash had just said.
Shimmer noted that the writing was in old realm, the original first language – and no, there weren’t any instructions on how to open the door, only a long list of Speaker’s deeds and accomplishments, all of which Shimmer found quite interesting to read: “Bright Machine Speaker, the great giver of wisdom, lover of life, spreader of civilization, builder of dam that could not feel or be felt, he who defied the Sea that Marched Against the Flame at the battle of burning rain, granter of endless wisdom – this is so awesome guys!”

“Hey, you said you buried yourself in here – can’t you just remember how to open the door?” Cash asked, wondering if he could punch the door down with his super punching martial arts.

Speaker sat down and tried to think really hard of the last of his memories from his past life. He remembered being scared, hiding, making the tomb in but a single day – his last day. A sad piece of music came to mind, but he couldn’t quite recall the instrument.

Shimmer and Cash both turned to look as Speaker absent-mindedly started humming a morose melody as he tried to recall how to open the door. It was a somber little melody, like a funeral march.

Then the stone slab that stood as the door suddenly swung to the side silently, revealing a dark interior.

“Speaker, I think your little musical act there did the trick – what song was that from?” Cash wondered.

Peeking inside the darkness of the tomb, then up the staircase into the sunlight, Speaker sighed: “That was the song that built this place. No, don’t ask me how, I don’t remember how”

“A song that builds tombs? Impressive” Cash noted as the three carefully entered the tomb.

Shimmer was quick to ask if Speaker remembered putting up any traps - but that fear was quickly put to rest. The smell of stale air poured out like an invisible choking fog, revealing that the tomb was right behind the door. There were no tunnels, no hallways, no traps, just a large square room carved out of the rock that became lit by glowing crystals as the three entered, with air that smelled as if it had fermented behind the sealed stone door. The walls of the tomb were smooth, polished to a mirror-shine, and like the entrance every surface was covered in glyphs extolling the accomplishments and deeds of the pony laid to rest there.

In the middle of the room was a large stone sarcophagus, which appeared to be carved from the same rock that the rest of the tomb was dug out of, to the point that it was even a part of the floor – the sarcophagus had evidently been made on the spot.

Speaker approached it slowly. The lid of the sarcophagus was thick gray stone just like everything else – but it had also been gilded to show a glorious and shiny effigy of Speaker’s last incarnation, presumably in his prime, replete with his panoply of miraculous artifacts and tools. Most prominently featured was a disc that Speaker instantly recognized and a rod or staff of some kind.

The visage of Speaker’s previous form was quite weird to behold for Speaker. If anything it did explain why Shimmer had given him an impromptu mane and mustache extension – his past self’s golden effigy was sporting a beard that reached all the way to his hooves, while his hair was done up in an incredibly lifelike braid that reached as far down as his beard. Having seen this, Speaker found himself wanting to get his hair braided in the same style.

“So… why are we here? There obviously isn’t much in grave goods for us to loot, unless you had it all crammed into the coffin? The gold on this thing is paper thin!” Cash noted as he scratched the surface of the gilded sarcophagus.

Pushing the lid aside, which turned out to be a lot easier than expected, two things happened. First of all the insides of the sarcophagus were revealed, but a stone door at the far side of the tomb also silently opened, revealing a room from which faint strange lights flickered, casting strange shadows deep into the tomb proper.

The three opted to first look inside the sarcophagus. What they saw wasn’t much; hardly anything at all really.

There was a lot of dust strewn in a pattern that corresponded to the corpse of a pony. In the pile was a staff of white jade, a stone tablet and nothing else. There was no jewelry, only a smooth black pearl the size of half a chicken egg and no decorations or even anything to suggest a coffin inside the sarcophagus.

Considering that Speaker had said that the place was build single-hoofedly, then a macabre thought occurred to everypony present: Speaker’s prior incarnation had sealed himself inside the stone sarcophagus and simply waited for himself to die.

The tablet revealed some details, as Shimmer read it out loud, becoming increasingly teary eyed as she did so: “To the future bearer of the mantle of the Bright Machine Speaker. I have spent weeks pondering what wisdom I should impart to you. We, the Solars, have been betrayed, but I will not tell you by who. To inform you of that would probably put you in more danger than it would do good. Simply bide your time, build your forces and ensure the loyalty of those around you”

“Well, that totally doesn’t sound ominous at all – but isn’t it just the dragon-blooded unicorn ponies we should be looking out for? I don’t see why it’d be a bad idea not to tell us of that” Cash commented.

Continuing, Shimmer read: “I came to this place, east of Deheleshen, north-north-west of Denansdor, seeking a refuge I did not find. To this end I made my own, this, my tomb and my final gift to my successor. My soul has been wounded, for I would be able to heal any wound of the flesh, so my time is short as I write this.”

“I call this place the Soulforge. Whether you choose to keep that name or rename it to reflect that it is by the time you read this also a tomb is your choice, but I made it to house the remains of my greatest gifts to this world. I have not left you artifacts or other trinkets that looters might steal. Indeed, this sarcophagus is made to only open to my own exaltation's presence, and to open the door to the stairway out by the tune that matched that which made this manse. You should know it well: If you’re reading this, you should already have sung it” Shimmer slowly read, looking over at the sarcophagus lid while doing so. This certainly explained why the foot-thick stone lid was so easy to get off.

“In the rooms furthest beyond the central chamber you will find vast archives. On stone tablets like these, which you must never remove from this place lest they crumble to dust, are inscribed all of my knowledge of the heavenly skills needed to marry magic and technology. Kal Bax might have cornered manse-making, and Bright Shattered Ice might have kept stealing my notes, but I was the greatest mind when it came to magi-technical wonders, for the Great Maker favored me. I have built directional titans, I have made protoshinmaic vortices like they were toys and wonders that new words had to be made to describe. The knowledge of how to make them all are in these archives, but sadly not the blueprints. These I could not save from those who I feel will soon be the death of me” Shimmer read out loud, having to stop at times to squint to read the tablet. It was filled with glyphs the size of rice grains, so it was not easy to read with the naked eye.

Speaker even noticed that Shimmer’s eyes had changed into strange eyes with huge oval pupils, probably to read the tiny old realm script properly. Such was the shape-shifting power of the Lunars.

“In the first room of the manse I have built what I reckon will be of greatest immediate use for you. It certainly helped me make this place. It is not an inauspicious gateway, and you can’t use it as such, but it is essentially a small font of power, flowing with the same potential one finds far beyond the sane edges of creation. The wyld energies accessible through the portcullis of iron and soulsteel are pure and will make for great shaping. This is why I have not filled this tomb with tools and trinkets: If you are a true bearer of the name Bright Machine Speaker, then you will make whatever you need from this.
This is my final gift to you. Regain our honor, avenge me” Shimmer finished, putting the tablet down on the edge of the tomb, looking at Speaker with tears in her eyes.

Speaker could at least partially understand why Shimmer was in tears, but he’d honestly heard it all more as a list of instructions, rather than the last words of a dying pony.

“I should have been there with you, I really should. I don’t why I wasn’t, maybe I was already dead at the time, but there’s no excuse” Shimmer said with great sorrow in her voice, carefully letting a tear fall on the dust that was the original Bright Machine Speaker.

The teardrop mixed into the dust and made for a tiny dark speck of moist dirt, the dust absorbing it.

“Right, so… what’s with the walking stic- whoa” Cash said, trying to pick up the white jade staff in the sarcophagus. This turned out to be quite difficult, as it weighed a lot.

A quick examination revealed that it was of pure white jade, despite being shaped like a wooden branch fashioned into a walking stick, complete with the smooth grainy texture of a gnarled stick stripped of its bark. The knotholes on the ‘stick’ revealed orichalcum plugs traced with infinitely regressing runic patterns. If the thing was painted a shade of brown it would be very hard to tell that it was made mostly of jade, one of the five magical materials.

Shimmer quickly grabbed the staff – which despite Cash having shown it to be impossibly heavy for its small size, levitated it up effortlessly – and marveled at the white jade stick: “Is this… no, it couldn’t be…”

Looking at the staff, Speaker instantly remembered what it was, and how it worked. This revelation also told him that he currently had no hope of being able to use it, but he knew that such a barrier was only there for a Solar to tear it down. Snatching the staff and touching it to his forehead, Speaker proudly declared: “My very own singing staff. That’s how I made this place. That’s why a song opened the door – it makes perfect sense”

“Okay, come on – what's a singing staff? How come you two can lift this thing while I couldn’t?” Cash half-whined, sounding very unsatisfied with the lack of riches and splendor in this tomb of a real, genuine first age Solar.

Shimmer looked at Speaker: “Is he really that dumb?”

Speaker shrugged and looked at a now very indignant Cash: “Things made of magical materials, like jade or the orichalcum in Gift, or moonsilver for Shimmer, or starmetal or soulsteel all weigh as much as the largest yeddim when not attuned to someone’s essence, even when in small amounts. A bead of jade can weigh as much as a pony-sized boulder, but be light as a feather when attuned. Shimmer put a little essence in the staff, I put more in, so now it’s as light as a dry walking stick”
“I can’t believe you didn’t know that” Shimmer added, explaining that it was painfully common knowledge – even among mortal ponies, that you couldn’t move jade around very easily unless a dragon-blooded or mortal pony with enlightened essence was there to lighten the load.

Cash sheepishly admitted that he’d never really paid that much attention to magical things, having originally reasoned that as a previously mere-mortal pony, he’d never be able to use the stuff – so why bother?

Speaker explained to Cash the awesome power of the singing staff: When placed against a body of rock or dirt and played with a rosined bow, like what you’d use to play an erhu fiddle… With the right melody or tones one could magically terraform large amounts of dirt or rock in seconds – make bridges, houses, palaces, roads, seal caves, tear down castle walls, or even make tombs in a matter of hours, if not minutes.

“Well, that’ll be nice if we ever get into real estate – but beyond that I don’t really see any uses” Cash said, clearly oblivious to the marvelous potential of the staff, or that was what Speaker thought.

The smooth black pearl in the sarcophagus was quickly identified: It was the hearthstone of the manse that the tomb was part of.

This fact stumped Cash: “Hold on – manses are big magical temples. I don’t see the big magical features in this place, you two sure this is a manse?”

Shimmer was quick to point out the strong feeling of earth essence in the tomb. Cash said he couldn’t feel it at all. Shimmer was just as quick to point out the magic stone door that reacted to music: “...plus, the whole place here is hidden. I remember being very careful to construct it outside of fate, or at least something similar… no clue how, plus none of you could see or even feel the stone stairway going down until I led you down it. This is a powerful manse, but that’s kind of weird. You’d think that a manse that feels this powerful on the inside would have more powerful dragon lines in the land surrounding it?”

Once again, Cash had no clue what dragon lines were – but he was quickly enlightened by Shimmer as the three ventured deeper into the tomb: “Okay, everything living respires essence. Ponies with enlightened essence can gather that up inside them and use the essence, like we can. But all the remaining essence collects and flows naturally, like water through a valley, only essence flows through all the elements. Where lesser flows gather into big ones they’re called dragon lines. And Speaker is right, this manse is weird. I’ve been staking this area out for months, but there’s no strong dragon lines leading up to the manse”

Speaker explained that he might have actually ‘made’ the demesne, the conflux of raw essence that the manse was tapping for power, himself – somehow. Shimmer was quick to note that such manipulation of reality this far inside the borders of creation shouldn’t have been possible, but Speaker rebutted: “This place has a stone door that opens with music, that’s impossible too. Plus a first age Solar at the peak of his power did this, no telling what else I… he… could have done”
The room beyond the central tomb was the one with the shimmering lights. As the tablet had said, it contained a strange source of power – a wellspring of raw wyld energy.

The wyld was – well – not reality. Everypony knew that to venture beyond the borders defined by the elemental poles, into the bordermarshes, was not wise. To go even further into the middlemarshes was tantamount to suicide. To go beyond into the deep wyld… ponies just didn’t do that. And now the original Bright Machine Speaker had made a font that spouted the madness from the absolute furthest edge of reality in his tomb? It sounded crazy. All ponies knew to fear and loathe the things that dwelt in the wyld – for such monsters liked to eat the dreams and souls of ponies.

“Okay, seriously Speaker, what’s the idea here?” Shimmer asked. Sure, she had read the tablet, but a source of pure chaos? This wasn’t just dangerous – if the spherical iron and soulsteel cage that surrounded the rainbow flares of light and constantly shifting emerald fish that floated above the plain stone pedestal was to fail… there’d be no words for what’d happen, for it’d be beyond sanity and reality.

Looking at the spherical cage around the sparks of potential, Speaker nodded in recognition of his previous self: “Brilliant, just brilliant”

With Speaker having revealed that he knew what the setup was for, Speaker first walked up to a stone switch on the wall and flicked it. The multi-colored lights and unreal gurgling noises from within the cage died down. Speaker said that the font was now turned off, and that it had only been left on in case it might otherwise denature and fail completely, making the feature built in vain. Beyond that, the idea was exactly as explained on the stone tablet: “I don’t remember exactly how to do it, but I know it’s within my reach – the Solar Wyld Shaping technique, it’ll let me shape anything out of the wyld energies here. Anything I can dream up and figure out how it works, I can make components for here, be it metals, liquids, uncut gems, magical materials...”

This news absolutely shattered Cash’s world view. His hopes and dreams of using his powers to become the wealthiest pony in creation crumbled before him – for if a Solar could simply create material wealth out of pure chaos… then it would have no value. Cash’s breathing intensified. This was too much to handle, too sudden! He’d only had these powers for a month or so, now he had to come to terms with the possibility of a world where money might become meaningless? No, this was just... this was too much.

Speaker and Shimmer watched in confusion as Cash said he’d run back to check on the ship and wait for them there. Shimmer shrugged and looked back at the dimly-illuminated iron and soulsteel cage, then at Speaker: “What got him so upset?”

“No idea, but this thing is incredible. Once I remember enough of the wyld shaping technique, we can go here to make... well... pretty much anything. Can’t make finished products though, what I make from this has to have some ‘potential’ left in it, like a bar of steel that can still be worked into many different things, or a raw vegetable that has to be cooked first” Speaker marveled.

Shimmer smacked her lips at Speaker saying ‘cooked first’ – her stomach growled a little moments later: “Hehe, sorry – haven’t eaten lunch yet”

Speaker said that they could eat on his junk afterwards – but first he wanted to see these ‘archives’ that his past self had left behind for him. The stone doors to the archive opened at the touch of a hoof, leading from the wyld spring into what turned out to be vast halls. These rooms were lit like the rest of the manse with glowing crystals, and shelves carved… or ‘played’ into the walls, with the use of the singing staff no doubt, contained rows upon rows of… shattered stone tablets.

“No…” Speaker slowly said, running up and down the hundreds of aisles. Every single stone tablet had been shattered by some unknown vandal. Shimmer found Speaker a while later, huddled up against one of the shelves, feebly trying to assemble the impossible jigsaw-puzzle that was made up of tiny stone shards.

It was clear that whoever had done this had been very methodical – the tablets hadn’t just been broken, they had all been pulverized to the point that largest pieces left were the size of peas, all of which had been scattered equally across the floor of the archive, making every hoof-step a sad crunchy step on what had once been a treasure-trove of ancient knowledge, now possibly lost forever.

A couple of hours later, Cash saw the hazel and grey-blue duo of ponies approaching the junk. In an idle thought, Cash realized that he’d never asked for the ship’s name or considered naming it himself. With a small feeling of regret he figured he wouldn’t bother, seeing as it’d just be sold, crew and everything, so they could have some money to work with. Money that might soon become completely worthless… or worse yet: obsolete. That wyld shaping technique, it could be the end of all economic activity…

It took some serious pulling himself together to force out a smile and welcome the two fellow exalts aboard – even if they arrived via Shimmer having turned into her bird-monster form and lifting Speaker up as she flew from the river bank over to the ship.

If Cash had to hold himself together hard to stay happy at grim knowledge of the economic holocaust he was imagining, then his crew was having an even harder time – only narrowly choosing not to disobey Cash’s orders not to run off or leave their posts without his permission, at the sight of the incoming bird monster carrying a pony in its talons.

Cash quickly noticed how depressed Speaker looked, as he led the two into the captain’s cabin and ordered a crewpony to fetch something to eat and drink.

Shimmer really wasn’t sure how to cheer Speaker up. They’d just met, and she’d read so many stories written down by her previous incarnations about how cheerful, determined and generous Bright Machine Speaker had been. Of course, she could understand how it felt to find ancient knowledge lost, having herself spent decades in the west defending tribes from fae raids coming out the wyld, only to see that no matter what she did, more would still come, and there would always be something lost, be it a son, a daughter, a father, or a wise old mare who might have been the only pony in a tribe who knew their secret traditions and rituals…

Learning of this didn’t exactly cheer Speaker up, so he tried to distract himself by methodically chewing on some smoked fish.

Shimmer was less impressed with the food the crewpony had brought – being a mare of the west: “How can somepony screw up smoking a fish. Really, how is that possible?”

Speaker looked up and swallowed: “With practice… say, did you know that at one point ponies only ate plants and stuff? Like grass and flowers?”

Shimmmer burst into laughter, thinking Speaker had just tried to crack a joke. His still sour look told her that she was sorely mistaken.

“No really, I just remembered. It changed after the three-spheres cataclysm. A lot of things changed after that, can’t remember them all, but I just remembered this” Speaker mused.

Shimmer didn’t know of the three-sphere cataclysm, so Speaker gave her the short version: “After a terrible war, one of the losing parties were feeling vindictive and blew up three parts of herself, altering the reality of creation. After that, ponies everywhere turned into omnivores. Heck, if foals aren’t fed soft meats when they’re old enough to eat solid food, their brains wouldn’t develop right any more. We barely discovered that in time, otherwise a whole generation of ponies would have grown up brain-damaged”

“The first age must have been a crazy time” Shimmer said, seeing that Speaker seemed to have cheered up a little talking about the old times.

The junk took almost a week heading east upriver before it reached Nexus. It took no small amount of threats and promises to visit Nexus later to convince Cash not to have the junk dock there, but Shimmer ultimately pointed out that most of the workforce and many of the mercenaries in Nexus were devout immaculate adherents – so if nothing else, then Cash should probably spend some time developing his powers before he took on a challenge like that. They did allow about half of the crew to leave, taking one of the boats, after having them magically sworn to never reveal the exalted nature of their former masters unless given explicit personal permission.

Looking at Nexus fade into the horizon as they continued to sail east on what was now the yellow river, Speaker confided in Shimmer that while his exaltation gave him much wisdom, he sorely lacked context for most of it: “When we get to Great Forks, I need to visit a library or two – in the meantime I think I’ll spend my time learning to learn again”

“What do you mean?” Shimmer said dreamily, still acting like an awestruck teen meeting a living legend.

Speaker sighed and wondered what help Shimmer would be if she kept acting like she had up until now: “In the first age, Solars could teach lessons that would ordinarily take months, or even years, in days. Enlightened lawgivers brought wisdom to millions, spreading literacy, medical skill and language across creation to all ponies. I might have to start over, but at least remember where I have to begin. Before we reach Great Forks I will hopefully have remastered the essence patterns needed to employ the harmonious academic methodology, then I can start to teach myself and then others”

A week and a half later up the yellow river, the junk docked at Great Forks, the city of temples, with Speaker having used his new educational magic to teach every crewpony on the ship how to read and write, an impressive feat that ordinarily could easily take three to four weeks of intensive studies, but with Speaker’s magic the crewponies weren’t even interrupted in their duties; the magic teaching them as they pondered his single lesson each night before falling asleep.
Instead of disembarking like a normal pony, Shimmer turned into a seagull and flew ahead into town, saying that she knew someone who’d want to meet them.