The Heartland Express

Rarity's body gently rose and fell as the unicorn slumbered. She twitched occasionally, murmured, but little more than that. She was deep in the dreamscape, so much was obvious to anypony who spent so much time around Princess Luna. But what filled her dreams? That was harder for a mortal mare to say.

In her past, it would have been too easy to say a high-society party, or some form of romance - a date, or possibly what came after. Sometimes. Twilight didn't have any experience on the matter anyway.

But her friend had grown in the past few years. Matured, even though she was already one of the most mature mares Twilight had known, diva-ish episodes aside. She had had fantasies realised, setting up shop in Canterlot and producing fashion lines famed throughout the Heartland's great cites - but they had been broken too, her imaginings of high society dashed against the capital's marble walls by the callousness and pride of others.

And then there was the year gone by. Everything had upped and changed for the dressmaker, setting aside her home, her job, even her special talent on a whim, to set hoof in the world of theatre. Rarity had been incredibly upbeat about the switch, and had returned home happy and with plenty of stories to tell, but Twilight couldn't help but remember her first couple of letters back, and the horrible accident which had given her her opening.

But the older mare slept with a smile on her face, and so Twilight smiled too. Her friend was not trapped in some horrible realm of social conflict or, worse so, one of broken wire harnesses and hospital emergency rooms. Rather, her dreams were clearly of happier times.

It was a shame it fell to her to wake her up.

"Rarity," she whispered, trying for a gentle approach. But if there was one thing she had learnt about her friend over the years - apart from that she held high standards of character, higher standards of appearance, and an extraordinarily confined concept of romance for somepony who talked about it so much - was that she was a deep sleeper.

"Rarity," she said again, louder, eliciting only the slightest response from her dozing companion - a tiny flickering of her right, upwards-facing ear.

"Ugh!" Twilight moaned, head drooping. She'd hoped not to have to resort to more intrusive methods-

"...Hm?" Rarity murmured slowly, eyes flickering open. "Twilight, darling... Did you - did you say something?"

Looks like that did it. How ironic, Twilight realised with a wry smile. "Oh, sorry Rarity. I was trying to wake you without having to do something like shaking you, or pulling the covers off. I know you like your beauty sleep, but..." Except it's not really ironic, all I did was speak a little louder. Nothing dramatically different or unexpected. It would have been irony if-

"Wake me?" Rarity asked, blinking sleepily at her. "Why did you have to wake me?"

"We're getting off in twenty minutes," she was informed. "Then it's a two-hour walk to the city from the East Ridgeroad Station."

"Two... Ungh," Rarity moaned, quite inelegantly. "Twilight, there's a station in Hockfall, we don't have to walk anywhere!" She rolled over in the bed, pulling as much of the covers around her as she could.

"But Rarity, everypony always says that you have to see Hockfall from a distance!" Twilight pleaded, "it's supposed to be one of the most amazing views in all of Equestria - heck, in the whole world! Look - you know how beautiful you say Canterlot is when you draw near?"

There was a muffled noise from underneath the blanket that Twilight took to be assent.

"Well, think about what it would be like to see that again for the first time! And besides, you'll only get another twenty minutes sleep if you stay here, they'll be clearing the train as soon as it stops."

"Surely they'll make an exception for the royal carriage," Rarity pointed out, sticking her head out near the headboard.

"Probably not." Twilight gestured in the direction of the pair of crates at the far end of the carriage that held their telescopes and such, masking their journey's true purpose. "They'll want to be moving those into storage as soon as possible."

Rarity sighed, pausing. "Twenty minutes more sleep sounds like a better deal than two hours of walking to me, I'm afraid."

Twilight didn't smile. "We're going to have to walk for weeks when we get to Celagia. There's no railways to speak of between Mareakesh and Kabull. If a two hour walk is too much for you..."

You should turn back now. The implicit message was enough for Rarity - she wasn't about to disappoint Twilight now, having been the one to get her going in the first place. "Alright," she resolved, "I'll come." She rose as smartly as she could muster the energy for, stretching lightly as she stood. "I suppose you're about to tell me there's no time for me to shower, aren't you?"

"Afraid so."

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you," Rarity said, striding over to the door to the en-suite - one of the luxuries of being in the Princesses' carriage. "I can at least-" She frowned, as, having raised her hoof to open the door, the handle refused to move. She shook it, irritated, before resorting to magic, rattling the lock for little reward. Disconcerted, she put her ear to the door, to hear the hiss of running water and a mare humming a country dance.

"She's doing this deliberately, isn't she?" Rarity growled. "Applejack Apple, you get out of there right now!"

"What was that, Rares?" the farmer called from within. "Look, I'll be out in a few, just hold on until then, would ya? If ya gotta go, there's a privy down the hall..."

Twilight had to try to hide her giggle with a hoof as her friend flailed at the door, her bed-mane falling down at random intervals across her face as she cursed in a most un-Rarity-like fashion. It didn't take long for her to give up, at which point she turned, and, back against the door, slid to the carpet looking thoroughly miserable.

"I can't walk into town looking like this, Twilight," she moped, "what will ponies say? There are bound to be some who recognise me from that Spotlight cover story last year, I have a reputation to uphold!"

"We're meant to be keeping a low profile," Twilight reminded her. "I guess your cloak's got your cutie mark on and all, we won't go completely unseen, but we still don't want to attract too much attention."

"I suppose," Rarity murmured, slightly dejectedly, "just - just let me at least run a brush through my mane, alright?"

It was not long after that little exchange that the Heartland Express pulled in at a tiny station on the mountainside, and they disembarked. With a rock face to the north and a valley straight south of them, Rarity was quite glad she hadn't noticed the precariousness of the track until now. To be fair, the line out of the Penneighns had been much the same, but here the heights were more distinct. The looming mountains towered far above their heads, and the valley was at least five times further below them than the one she had watched from the caboose. Had a little family lived down there, she didn't think she would have been able to make them out at all.

The station itself was tiny. A little waiting room and an even smaller ticket office held no passengers. The only ponies in sight were those disembarking with their bags and setting off along a footpath on the hillside.

"Are all these fellas just gettin' off now to catch the view?" AJ asked, skeptically, her mane still glimmering with water as she spotted the crowds.

"For some ponies, the only reason to go to Hockfall is to see the view, and they still go," Twilight replied, pulling up the hood of her brown travelling cloak. They were each donning their own vestments, Twilight and Applejack wearing rough brown capes which reminded Rarity of burlap, while she herself had the white one that the Princesses had given to her on Hearth's Warming. As the ponies around them began to shiver in the wintry chill, Rarity suddenly became much more appreciative of the Princesses' gift.

"Well, didn't that just sell it to me," Applejack was muttering.

"OK, fine, not the only reason then - the main one!" Twilight sputtered, holding back her exasperation as best she could. "There's - look, it's not exactly like they've got a lot of space there. There's an art gallery, I think, and a theatre, not much really. All the old stately homes got converted into housing to make room for families."

"The Bridge-City," Rarity murmured, "I've seen paintings and photographs, of course, but never really paid them much heed."

"There's a really famous picture, painted from the view from a hot-air balloon," Twilight said, "hovering just slightly above the Terraduct, and some way away, so you really get a feel for the waterfall. Princess Celestia borrowed it from the national gallery, it's hanging in the map room at the palace. I can never remember its name, though..."

"So what's this Terraduct then?" Applejack asked, as they stepped down from the platform and onto the trail, gently following the curve of the hillside. It rose a short way above the tracks before levelling and widening out, allowing the three to walk side-by-side.

"You'll see," Twilight told her, slightly smugly, "it's basically the train bridge, built separately so that it doesn't go through the centre of town."

"If it's just a bridge, Ah don't see why ya have to keep going on about it," AJ grumbled, eliciting disgust from her scholarly companion.

"I honestly can't believe neither of you actually know about any of this! Hockfall is one of the Equine world's greatest feats of engineering!" complained Twilight. "I - you can't just not know about - ugh!" she exclaimed, words not enough to convey her irritation.

"There are a great many wondrous works of architecture in the world, Twilight," Rarity replied, perfectly calmly. "Take for instance the Golden Gate, in the Ukrein."

"Or the Canterbury Cathedral," Applejack added.

"And even Canterlot itself!" exclaimed Rarity. "Twilight, you can't expect us to know every detail about every little building. Anyway, this Terraduct is surely just one more facet of Hockfall's image. We certainly knew of the city itself, at any rate."

"I guess," Twilight said, only half-trying to hide that she wasn't convinced.

A short distance on, the dusty hillside road turned to meet an open field. With the cliffside stretching north and the railway falling below a dip in the rolling plain, both left them and their fellow travellers behind as they hiked out into the grassland.

"What about the, uh..." AJ began, but trailed off nervously, giving Twilight concerned glances. "Didn't ya say somethin' about the nobles east of us... Bein' trouble?" she finished at a whisper.

"Hockfall's not a noble town," Twilight reassured her, "it's run by an elected governor. The colt in office before him was the son of a Laird - a noble in the High Fets, he was definitely an anti-Canterlot type, but his kid's out now. The guy they've got now is pretty lazy and completely harmless. There's no way he'll get into actual politics, it could blow his career." Rarity let out a snort of laughter at that.

They walked on in silence, each calming their thoughts as they strolled through the sloping meadow. The grass around them was for the most part white with frost, but the path they followed had been trodden into existence that morning by their fellow passengers, creating a green and brown swathe in the icy field. It squelched underhoof rather than crunched, its former crystal coverings having melted to muddy the ground beneath them. While it was not so bad as to divert their course, there was enough muck to make certain self-conscious ponies tremble at its touch.

Rarity suppressed a shudder as the thin layer of sludge sucked at her hooves while they walked. The mud's unpleasant touch was only worsened by the knowledge that she was going to have to walk through a whole city with its taint still around her ankles. How mortifying! Her pristine coat tarnished when it should have been at its best, standing out in the crowd as a symbol of pure beauty! Oh, stop it, she told herself. That last thought was just too vain.

While it will be a travesty to present myself as such, it is hardly an occasion demanding perfection, nor do I expect there will be one again for some time. It is time to put such concerns behind me. Us, if me forcing Applejack to beautify herself counts. She smiled, pleased with her own resolve. Naturally, it didn't take long to waver. Although this muck is quite disgusting, if I can't get it off me before lunchtime I think I shall have to scream.

The slope of the plain and the walkers before of them obscured the view ahead spectacularly. All Rarity could see of what lay beyond was the slightest hint of grey poking out in the distance, far beyond the ridge. That, and there was a hissing, growing in her ears, as if they were nearing a river.

That must be the Hock, she realised. The Fetlochs' greatest river, spawned in the high mountains from the runoff of hundreds of tarns, lochs, and bogs fell away beyond the city to feed the swamps of the Marshlow, or so she had been told. She began to realise the throng of passengers was thinning out, spreading left and right with many pausing at the peak of the ridge they were climbing.

Ahead of them, Applejack had reached the tip of the hill and stopped. The unicorn nearly stopped still as an awe that Rarity could not comprehend appeared on the countrymare's face. Awe was not typically an emotion she associated with Applejack, but now it was truly, undeniably present.

"Girls," she called, "I-I think you should see this." There was a breathiness to it, one that rarely found its way into the farmer's tone. Rarity would have been shaken by it if it weren't for the reverence suffusing her friend's words.

"What is it Applejack?" She frowned as she upped her pace, making for the crest of the ridge at a fast walk. Behind her, Twilight gave a knowing smile as she too sped up to meet her companions.

Rarity stood gaping, her mouth hanging slightly open as she tried to comprehend the sight before them. There below them lay Hockfall, the Bridge-City - but only now did its nickname start to register with her. For there too lay the Hock itself, with and within the city, for the two were the same.

The great river, over two miles wide and roaring, sped through its gorge towards the great waterfall at the Marshlow cliff. But the city itself lay above the river, spanning it as if it had been built on a bridge, although no signs of such architecture existed. The city simply began and the city simply ended, all in grey stone where there should merely be foaming fluid. The Hock ran straight under it before gushing out the other side to plunge hundreds of feet to the great valley below.

The tower that Rarity had seen over the ridge was clearly the city's tallest building, the highest point of what seemed to be a palace in the north of the town. Walls separated the bridge from its surroundings, but the city spilled out beyond them. Having grown too large to remain within its confines, houses had been built on the earth outside the capital of the Fetlochs' boundaries, around which ponies could be seen milling and trading. She began to find herself wishing she had indeed paid more attention to those many depictions of the city, for if they were half as incredible as the place itself then they could only be masterpieces.

Her gaze then fell onto the train tracks, curving around across the fieldscape, on the edge of the cliff, towards the river's edge, but not going into the city. Instead, they went straight out over the chasm, before the waterfall itself, for there was built the Terraduct. The mighty stone bridge, set into the sides of the gorge, bore on its top level the two railway lines, and below it a promenade across which many figures strolled. The bridge was set slightly below the city, but was built far away enough to avoid most of the spray from the waterfall. The worst of the damp, Rarity imagined, would be felt on the staircases that connected the bridge to the city, up and down which ponies could be seen roaming.

"My goodness," Rarity breathed, breaking a silence of several minutes. "I-I've never seen anything quite like it. I mean, of course, I've been over the Fetlochs many times - we flew, of course, by airship, but I wasn't paying attention, so I never-"

"Hush, Rarity," Applejack said softly, and the unicorn lapsed back into an uncomplaining quiet, content to merely take in the panorama before them.

Her gaze wandered southwards now, to look beyond the cliff edge where below she could now fully see the extent of the Marshlow, stretching out as far as pony eyes could see. Where the mountains behind them at the edge of the field ended, so too did those across the valley, leaving the flatlands completely open to view.

Although they could not see the bottom of the waterfall from where they stood, they could see the Hock winding its way out into the lowlands, great grasses and still pools surrounding the river on either side. If the Homeplain had been stark, it was bustling in contrast to the sheer wilderness of the Marshlow. And though Rarity could see as far as the distant horizon, not a single building lay in sight in the valley, despite its proximity to the city above.

"Do you think the two hours includes time to admire the view?" she whispered to Twilight, earning herself a little giggle in response.

"I think it might do," Twilight replied, taking a couple of steps down the hill towards the city before turning back to face them. "Two hours, my flank. Come on, girls, it wont be long now until we're there. We can walk down the Terraduct if you want, see the view from there."

"Can we get ourselves some breakfast first?" Applejack asked. "I don't like to complain, but to be honest with ya both food's far higher on my list than sightseein'."

"Of course!" Twilight replied, brightly. Rarity was grateful, for her own stomach was protesting somewhat fiercely at its own lack of content. "But not if we stand here all day. Come on!"

In high spirits they set off once more, grinning at the new promise of the town before them. Ambling at first, they found themselves grinning, flashing smiles back and forth between one another as they tripped downhill. They couldn't help but speed up, getting faster and faster, until with a joyful whoop, Applejack broke into a gallop and the three sped away, laughing freely, to the city on the Hock.

The Great Forest, Celagia

Despite their winter nakedness, the trees still rustled in the wind, bare branches and needled pines founding the forest's ambience. To that was added birdsong, the chatter of squirrels, the rippling of the grass that, just hours before had sparkled with frost, now glistened with dew. But below it all was something else - a pair of sounds a pony who knew these woods (had such a pony existed) would have been quite surprised by, pleasantly or no.

One was the back-and-forth conversation of a mare and stallion, and the other was a scratching of pencil on paper. But unfortunately for Rainbow Dash, of all the minimalist symphonies around her, it was the conversation - the typical, exclusive conversation so favoured by ponykind - that filled her mind.

"What did you say?" she called, holding back her irritation.

"Oh, sorry Dash - I said their arena was a total dump. No wonder you never get any superstar athletes out of Hockfall."

"No." Rainbow found it was quickly becoming difficult to keep the impatience from her tone. "Before that - about when we passed by?"

"Oh!" Spitfire sounded only mildly surprised. "That it was just to be safe. I mean, it's not a Knight town, is it?"

"No," Rainbow confirmed from across the glade, "but after Pitsburgh I was happy to stay out of the cities for a while. That whole business was messed up."

"Yeah..." Spitfire agreed, becoming disinterested once more. "Hey Soarin!" she called upwards, "remember that time we had that fat colt from Hockfall try out? You know, the one with that great Fetloch accent?"

"When?" Soarin's voice drifted back down from the branches of the thaw-apple tree. It was a weird fruit, seeming to only bloom on the mornings when last night's snow was melting away. They had discovered it only days ago quite back accident, grateful for the reappearance of fresh fruit.

"About a year before we left," Spitfire told him as he tossed another two fruits down into the sack she held. They were odd apples - in all her years of hanging around with AJ, Rainbow had never seen ones this shade of ice-blue. They reminded her in a way of the zap-apples from which Granny Smith had made jam. That homely, delicious preserve. Rainbow smiled a little at the memory of its strange, tangy aftertaste that reminded her of a day's work bucking thunderheads. Maybe they could bring some seeds back, for Granny-

No. Rainbow stopped herself, head drooping. Granny Smith was gone. Twilight had told her as much in her letter before Hearth's Warming. Granny was gone, and she hadn't had the chance to go to the funeral. The news had seemed slightly unreal to Dash, having not seen - well, any of them for years. She kept forgetting what she knew to have changed, and she hated herself for it.

"...And when he bailed, Gods that was brilliant!" Spitfire was saying. "And he just... Like, upped and walked away, it was fantastic. Seriously, he had so much drive I was half-tempted to take him on anyway, even though he was about as aerobatic as a gargoyle with hummingbird wings."

"You could have recommended him a trainer," Soarin said, gently drifting down to earth now that Spitfire's saddlebags were bulging.

"I don't think he would've taken it the right way," Spitfire said, uncertainly. "But I don't think he let it get him down. I know I've seen him somewhere else since then..."

"Some Skyball team somewhere?" Soarin suggested, as they turned and started back for the camp, flipping an apple out from under his wing and catching it deftly in his mouth.

"Maybe," agreed the yellow mare, "but they all look so similar with their flight suits on. So many of our applicants break into things like that when we turn them down, I can't keep track of all of them..."

Rainbow simply sat, there under the thaw-apple tree, and watched them go. There was a moment then, when she did not think. She merely sat there, and was. As their small talk - that beautiful, hated thing - drifted away into the distance, Gaia's symphonies returned. The trees, the creatures, the wind, all taking her away once more from the pettiness of all ponykind - and herself.

Soon the scratching of the pencil once more intertwined with the sounds of the forest.

Hockfall

Rarity closed her eyes and breathed deeply. There was a freshness to the air - a certain essence which one simply did not feel in cities lesser to this one. It was indeed a fine city, rich in history and culture, although not in the same way that Canterlot was. There was no escaping from its joyous bustle, just as in Canterlot one could not move three feet without seeing another reminder that it was indeed Canterlot - home of the princesses, on top of the world itself.

Mayhap there were greater similarities than first met the eye between the two. In Canterlot while wealth and high society were the norm, they were not all-inclusive. Take Steamville, for instance, the factory-town at the foot of the mountain that Rarity had visited only once. A humble place with down-to-earth citizens, and yet the heady nature of industry had not fully suppressed the capital's own qualities. There was still an air of prosperity, of pride - even a certain aloofness to it, although not so as to rival that of High Town itself. And even then there was the Castle, high on the hillside, above all rising, ever dominant.

So too in Hockfall was the river, for while it may be beneath them, while it was indeed out of sight, it could not be put out of mind. The noise made sure of that.

The unicorn let out her breath and opened wide her eyes, allowing the rush of the river to once more fill her mind and for the wind to pluck at her mane. Just as before she had leant with Applejack on the rail at the back of the Heartland Express, now she leant with her again. And while the view from the Terraduct was static, it was no less spectacular. More so, perhaps, for it felt like she could see forever.

Before them lay the unblemished Marshlow. She could see further than before, but still there lay no signs of civilisation there. Far below them the mighty Hock reformed from its fall, meandering away through the thick reeds and hardy grasses of the salty swamps. Still pools dotted the landscape, mirroring the sky above - but they're probably infested with midges, Rarity reminded herself. Nasty little things.

Twilight had not joined them at the rail. The academic remained some distance away, trying to keep an eye on their surroundings without making herself suspicious. She sat on a bench some way to her friends' east, her eyes flicking left and right as she pretended to be focusing on the view herself. Sure, she was probably being paranoid - but, better safe than sorry.

She tried not to meet ponies' gazes as they walked past. She may have been an accomplished magician, and she'd saved the world several times to boot, but outside the Heartlands her face at least was virtually unknown. Only the most enthusiastic intellectuals, royalists, or conspiracy theorists would be able to pick her out for who she was.

Them and the conspirators themselves.

A bulky middle-aged stallion rumbled past her, wearing a thick brown cloak with all the qualities of burlap, puffing and panting as he went. The garment could easily hide a weapon of some sort, but who was she kidding? It was cold, they weren't about to be attacked in broad daylight, and the man himself wasn't exactly... Lightweight.

Relax, Twilight, she soothed herself, that's how you're going to make it through this. Just... What was it Spike always said? Chill. Take a chill pill, Twilight. She giggled. What a stupid notion. Maybe I could infuse pills with a calming spell. That'd probably sell quite well, if only for humorous purposes...

"Well, may Celestia herself bless my soul! Doctor Sparkle!"

Twilight nearly jumped out of her hide. The realities of nature preventing this, she settled for leaping from the bench, looking wildly around her.

"Calm yourself, friend," came the voice again, "I'm right here. Don't tell me you don't recognise me?" it added, with mock affront.

"What?" Twilight gasped, wheeling around to see an unmistakable figure on the bridge beside her. Orange and white, two horns, instrument slung on his back, slightly conflicting hat - and she only knew one creature who could fit that description. "...Longhorn?" she hazarded.

"Indeed," the antelope replied with a smile, bowing his head in slight acknowledgement. "I had hoped to see you again, but would've never imagined it to be so soon. I was planning to catch you when I return to Canterlot, although heaven knows when that would be. What brings you out here?"

"Oh! Uh..." Twilight did her best to refrain from being flustered, she really, truly did - but the bard's appearance had surprised her and she suddenly found she wasn't prepared to be put on the spot. "It's a research trip," she finally managed, "we're heading up to Oslokai to view the aurora."

"The aurora?" Longhorn repeated. "A truly beautiful sight, indeed, but - humour an amateur magician - how does that pertain to your research?"

"Well, you'd be surprised, but nopony knows what causes it," Twilight explained, flicking a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Princess Luna has always loved it, but she didn't have time to make the journey herself."

"Ah, immortality." The gazelle grinned. "Strange, isn't it, how the creatures who have more time than any of us are also the ones with no time at all."

"Actually, since Princess Luna returned they've both had a lot more time to themselves," Twilight informed him. "Princess Celestia takes most Sundays off now, and Luna doesn't always have much work during the night. Not many ponies come to Night Court, you see, so she can go out into Canterlot and - oh, I'm sorry," she cut herself off, eyes widening in self-mortification. "I-I shouldn't be talking about them so openly, th-they might not approve."

"Oh, don't worry," the bard reassured her, still smiling. "I know all the stories about our dear princesses. There are so many I don't even know which ones I believe any more."

Twilight thought about that for a moment, pondering. "You're a singer and a storyteller, right?" she asked.

"That's right," Longhorn replied, "I only have what I need to live and make creatures happy. Nothing more."

"If we hadn't already met, I'm not sure I would believe that," Twilight said, wryly. "But you seem pretty honest. How does the hat fit into that equation, though?" she asked, pointing to his trademark headwear. It was a green fedora, two holes in the rim accommodating the gazelle's majestic horns. A black band encircled it - Twilight hoped it was of pseudo-leather, but Longhorn seemed pretty well travelled, it could easily be from somewhere where leather was acceptable. Finally, stuck into the band was a big, red feather, seemingly the same one as last time, although Twilight was certain it couldn't have endured that long. Dead feathers were hardly hardy.

"It helps my act," the bard answered her. "A little prop, a personal image. Something people will remember."

"Around here, not being a pony is enough for people to remember you by," Twilight said, but without malice. "Anyway, I'm not knocking it. I think it's really nice, it certainly adds an extra touch," she told him, earnestly, earning herself another smile. I doubt Rarity would agree though.

He smiled at the compliment. "I'm glad you do," he said, "Otherwise I might have to stop wearing it, but I rather like it myself, so I'm quietly glad that's not the case." Twilight giggled at that.

"Twi', stop dallyin' around back there an' come take a look," Applejack called from the balustrade. "This ain't somethin' ya get to see every day. Uh, who's your friend?" she asked, finally looking around. She frowned briefly, at the sight of the gazelle, not even attempting to hide her suspicion.

"Oh, come on, AJ, it's just the singer from the Winter Fair," Twilight replied, trying to catch the farmer's eyes.

"And how d'ya know we can trust him?"

It took a great effort of will on Twilight's part to prevent her face and her hoof from meeting at that comment. "I'm pretty sure he's not going to try and rob me, AJ. Right, Rarity?"

"Aha, yes, right, of course!" Rarity stammered, throwing a hoof over Applejack's shoulders and slowly leading her away. "It's not like we've got anything to hide from him, is it, darling?"

"Oh!" the earth mare exclaimed. "Uh, yeah! Nothin' at all! We should - uh - I'll just let you two catch up. I'll-"

The rest of her words were drowned out by the waterfall as the dressmaker dragged the cowpony into the crowd. Twilight made no attempt to hide her irritation, turning back to the bard with resigned eyes.

"Not hiding anything, eh?" Longhorn said, eyebrows bouncing in mock interest. "It's a good job I found you first before some stranger tried to strike up a conversation with you. That would have gone much worse."

"Probably," Twilight sighed. "You're not going to ask me about it, are you?"

"No, of course not," the gazelle replied, shaking his head. "I'll find out eventually, anyway."

"Uh..." Twilight frowned. "What makes you so sure?"

"I make it my business to know every story there is to be told," he answered, simply, "but yours is not yet over, I sense. I shan't interfere."

"Well, that's the best I can hope for, I guess," Twilight said, not entirely certainly. AJ's untimely interruption had been a close call, and while she certainly liked Longhorn, she barely knew him, let alone trusted him. Maybe she would write to the Princess about the situation when they were out of the city - but not before.

Without Spike's dragonfire, she needed another way to send letters to Canterlot. When she was in the Palace it hadn't really mattered - if she wanted a word she'd just pass it to whichever sovereign needed it. In Ponyville she had used a simple, long-distance teleport. But she wasn't willing to risk that over hundreds of miles. If there had been a challenge put to her, she would have been certain she could pull such a spell off, but her letters were pretty sensitive. No, she was making certain nothing intercepted her writings.

She was using alicorn magic.

The Elements of Harmony bore it, enough of it to let their bearers cast spells otherwise unattainable by mortal ponies. Rainbow had been using the Loyalty pendant to write to Canterlot from another continent without interference, and she was a pegasus - she'd never teleported anything before in her life! Alicorn magic was pretty obvious to anypony looking out for it though, it had a very different feel to other pony magics, so she didn't want to be using it near the city.

Celestia would want to hear about this strange fellow's claim. A whole letter just about him might seem paranoid, though, so she'd have to include some other details. Maybe she could write about their night in New Pitsburgh and talk about how well the city was coming on? Ugh, no, that won't work. The princesses are really paying attention to the reconstruction, it's not like there's anything I can tell them that they don't already know.

With unspoken consent, the two began to walk in the direction Rarity had headed. With a bit of luck she would have been able to calm Applejack's nerves, but normally, Twilight remembered, those roles were reversed - Applejack using her country-folk common sense to talk the unicorn out of her more obnoxious episodes.

"So then, if it's a scientific journey you're undertaking, what part do an earth pony farmer and the surprise star of the Mare of the Eastern Front play?" Longhorn asked, conversationally.

Twilight eeped, the tiny sound not even reaching the gazelle over the sound of the waterfall. Had anypony heard? Such a comment had implications for their safety should it reach unfriendly ears - but not a head was turned nor eyebrow raised. Even the sight of the gazelle, lanky, patterned, was not enough to make the stoic Fetlochers stray from their paths.

Little could, Twilight noticed, as they headed into the city itself. She took great care ascending the staircase from the Terraduct, trying not to keep to the middle, away from the edges and the torrents of water below, but the flow of ponies around her knocked her about, forcing her to the side. She gasped in terror as she bumped against the guardrail at the ascent's edge, spray gusting into her face as the Hock fell from beneath the city, mere feet below her, but Longhorn put himself between her and the edge and, with a smile, continued to lead her up.

"They're here to help me with my equipment and observations," she told him, confident now that nopony cared for there conversing. "When you're investigating magics, sometimes I like to have a pony on board who doesn't quite understand magic like I do. Sometimes I tend to overlook the more obvious details, looking for the science behind it all, when they're often the most important of all."

The citizens of Hockfall seemed a gruff bunch - many burly, many bearded, many grey and brown, red and black. They pushed and shoved, the narrow streets of the confined city not allowing for personal space. Twilight tried to stifle her grunts of annoyance and slight pain as she was jostled.

I bet Rarity's not enjoying this, she thought to herself. Wait a minute - Rarity!

"Wait!" she said to her companion. "I have to find my friends - I - I can't believe I nearly forgot, they wandered off somewhere-"

"Relax," Longhorn reassured her, "they're just up ahead. We both saw them go this way, right?"

"Are you sure?" Twilight asked, uncertain. "I can't - unf!" she gasped as a large black earth stallion shoved roughly past.

"Certain," the gazelle replied. "There's a square just up ahead, it should be less packed down there and you'll be able to spot them."

Twilight nodded, slowly, still not convinced but willing to believe her newfound companion. She didn't want to try and turn around now anyhow - there was a mare walking barely inches ahead of her, a stallion close behind, and ponies flowing towards the waterfall on either side. Longhorn weaved between them skilfully, but she was certain any attempt on her part to reverse the flow would merely cause an upset.

The road was narrow, with maybe space for six ponies side-by-side, but in reality holding eight or nine. The feeling of claustrophobia was merely condensed by the grey stone of the buildings that loomed, five or six stories, jutting out above the street. Twilight assumed that they were mainly apartments - most had no front windows on the ground floor, only doors into which pedestrians occasionally ducked. The occasional storefront bore nothing special - a grocery shop, a pub, a launderette with washermares inside, shoving bundles of clothing around steaming, soapy vats with wooden poles.

The crowd lurched as a drunk staggered haphazardly across the way, ponies flinching into other ponies as they tried to avoid his stench. Conspicuous green and brown fluids bubbled from an unidentified building on the roadside into a rusty drain. Above their heads, two ponies bellowed to each other from opposite flats across the avenue. A single pony dressed in a suit scurried by, clearly unnerved by his very surroundings.

It's like Canterlot's High Quarter, but for the working class, Twilight mused. A reversal of geographies. The similarities were clear. Both built improbably out of stone, one on a mountainside with the other spanning a waterfall. Busy and vibrant, but with a clear lean in the wealth trend, although not so much as to remove the alternative extreme from the area. There's the social scientist in me. Stars above, she doesn't show up much.

"It's not all like this," the gazelle reassured her as they moved north, away from the falls, noticing her conflicted expression. "The further away from the Terraduct you get, the nicer it is."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just - I'm just trying not to let myself think too badly of this place. I, uh, I mean, I'm used to Cant- To the Heartlands, aren't I? It's just a, uh, a social experience, that's all."

"A culture shock?" Longhorn suggested, grinning at Twilight's blustered self-assessment.

"No," Twilight gasped, gaping at him momentarily. "Well, maybe a little bit. Oh hey, look, this must be it now."

Just ahead, the oppressive tenements ended, the road widening out into a plaza - still mostly grey, but with more shops, and where colour did exist, there was more of it. While the bleak few taverns they had passed on the way up had sported faded paintings as signs, here the only establishment - The Pony and Pool - featured a spectacularly chromatic depiction of a waterfall, a mare stood beneath a deluge of water far smaller than the Hock. The shops too held bright signs, and the sky above was not hemmed in by tower blocks, giving the whole place an uplifting sense of freedom.

Pony society, equine minds rebelled at the idea of monochrome life, and Twilight's heart leapt just a little as they made their way into the square. Even the people there seemed brighter - the dark, heavy colours of the road from the waterfall being replaced by a roughly evenly distributed palette - all of the pony spectrum was present in this place.

They walked to the fountain, grateful for their newfound breathing space. It was a landmark in more ways than one - marble white among the nondescript slates and granites of the rest of the town, and depicting a rearing alicorn with water spewing from her spiral horn and outstretched wingtips.

"That's odd," Twilight said, "I thought the alicorn of the sea was normally depicted as male."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Neptune, god of water," she explained. "Ugh. I hate referring to them as 'gods'."

"Really?" Longhorn asked again. "How so?"

"Well, they aren't - look at Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna. They're not all-powerful. They're quite powerful, but I've seen them to be weak and to fail. Shouldn't a god be perfect?"

"Perhaps," the gazelle agreed, gazing at the statue, "but what if it simply isn't possible for something to be stronger than they?" He gestured with a hoof at the marble figure, who pointedly ignored him.

"It is, at the-" Twilight halted herself. She had nearly begun to talk of the wedding, nine years ago, where the Changeling Queen - pumped full of a deadly emotional cocktail of love and arrogance - had knocked Celestia out in a seconds-long duel. While the story hadn't been suppressed as such, a certain level of shock surrounded it - as if those loyal to the Princess couldn't quite believe that she had fallen.

There were rumours in Canterlot and the surrounding Heartlands, that perhaps Celestia had set it up, for her young niece to show her true alicorn power. Or that Celestia herself had been a changeling, and the bizarre series of events had led to the true Princess' restoration. Some refused to believe that it had happened at all, denying what had happened in front of their very eyes, and in all the debate and conjecture, the truth was lost. Those who knew it had for once, bizarrely, agreed to grant Celestia some privacy and kept their muzzles shut, for the most part, and so the urban legend remained merely a personal embarrassment for the Princess, rather than a public disgrace.

"...Celestia told me that she'd failed in the past, sometimes," she offered instead, "that she hadn't always been able to win her battles, even when not fighting alicorns. Like when she and Luna struck down Discord, they - they couldn't do it first time," she explained.

"First time?" Longhorn gave her a curious look.

Oops. Yeah, that story had been suppressed.

"Um, yeah, first time they fought, that is," she managed to bluff, "he, uh, manipulated them or something, drove them away. It took them a while to recover and try again, that's all Celestia told me."

"Seventeen years," the gazelle said.

"What?"

"It took them seventeen years," he explained, turning to face her fully. "That's how long legend says it took them to resolve themselves, and even after that they were changed. Discord changed something within them, so they say. Luna, the star warrior, trained from birth for battle was transformed by him into a frivolous, carefree creature, while Celestia - ever destined to rule - was hardened towards her people and their needs. He turned them inside out," the gazelle said, his voice dropping as a couple of ponies passing particularly close to the fountain glanced their way.

"Of course, these are just stories, you understand," he added, "but they say that Princess Luna's insecurity was created by Discord's meddling. It was at that time she began to find joy in her own night more than ever, but nopony would share in it with her, and she lost herself. She became the Nightmare."

"I know," Twilight whispered, sadly. "She told me, she told me how - how she couldn't bring herself to hate him, in the end. She was lonely before that, but she hid, behind... You said she was trained for battle?"

"So the stories go." Longhorn nodded. "Celestia, the elder, was trained to rule, while Luna, the younger, was mentored to fight. Of course, this is only in the tales where they aren't described as twins," he added, frowning slightly as the histories conflicted within his mind.

"Yes, well, she certainly was mentored for battle, even if they were the same age," Twilight agreed, "she hid behind her armour and her military training, before Discord. But... Like you said. He changed her."

Suddenly she flushed, embarrassed. "Oh, goodness," she exclaimed, "I'm so - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that! I - it wasn't my place, I - please, don't tell anypony I told you all those things," she pleaded. She had felt safe with the bard, with a soul who had been willing to listen and share, and she had let her guard down.

"I've already been telling that story for years," he said wryly, and Twilight was unsure whether this was reassuring or not. "But for every town that hears one tale, there is another that gets the opposite version.

"And speaking of versions," he continued, "sometimes the water-lord is a mare, sometimes a stallion. Some say - and this is the version I believe myself," he confided, looking left and right in mock-conspiracy, "that while Neptune now rules the waters, it was only when he killed Aqua Marine, the lady you see here, during the Fifty-Years War that he ascended."

"I never heard that tale," Twilight said, looking back at the fountain once more.

"Aye, it's a rare one," the buck replied, "Aqua Marine was rarely seen by mortal eyes before the marauding hordes of War came west. They killed her trying to take her power to their crusade," he explained, bitterly. "I know not how alicorns are made, truly, but of all the legends, the only ones I can bring myself to believe tend to include death. Sadly."

This was getting to close for comfort for Twilight. Time for a change of subject. "Can you see AJ or Rarity?" she asked, glancing around the square. But with nothing to stand on, the see of multihued manes and tails gave nothing away.

"No." The bard began to amble eastwards, "but from what I've gathered about them, Miss Rarity will have likely sought out a pleasant cafe, from which to pony-watch, and your friend Applejack will have accompanied her with some degree of irritation."

"That sounds about right," Twilight agreed. "But, wait, how did you know all that? You barely met either of them over Hearth's Warming."

"Well, word travels fast in a small town. I was in Ponyville for around a week at Hearth's Warming," he reminded her. "You are all sort of local celebrities there."

"Emphasis on local," Twilight grunted. "You'd be surprised how little of the truth ponies beyond the Heartlands know."

"But that's for the best, surely? You must be glad of the privacy such a factor awards you."

"Oh, definitely."

They had zig-zagged through the equine traffic to a small establishment on the side of the plaza. There, ponies sat at wooden tables with steaming beverages and fancy, cream-topped cakes. It didn't quite match up to the standards of Canterlot street cafes, but it beat the taverns of south-side Hockfall by a country mile. However, of Applejack and Rarity she could see neither hide nor hair.

"Well, they're not here," Twilight muttered, turning to face Longhorn, who had merely seated himself at an empty table. "Look, I really need to find them - it's kind of important that we don't - I don't want them to get into any trouble," she explained.

"How are you going to find them if you just walk away?" the bard replied, pulling his mandolin from his back. "If we stay here, they will come by sooner or later." He smiled, plucking at the strings.

"You can't be sure of that."

Longhorn simply smiled at her. "I am a master of attention, Dr. Sparkle. I would wager you that I could draw them in, and hundreds of others besides with just one song."

"They could be anywhere in the city by now!"

"Trust me, it'll be a very good song." He fiddled with the lute's tuning keys for a moment, all the while smiling her way. "What do you know of Hockfall's history? Do you know how it was built?"

"Neither how nor why," Twilight said, earnestly. "The most common theory is that Laird Bluehorn wanted to build a bridge so he could control trade between the Heartlands and the rest of Equestria, but Hockfall was built before his reign. He became ruler of the city after the Fifty-Years War, but it had been a stronghold during the conflict."

"The whole thing was just architects posturing," the bard informed her. Twilight was taken aback by the certainty of the statement.

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, incredulously. "Historians have been trying to figure out the city's origins for centuries, and you just know?"

"I know many versions," he corrected her, smile never wavering. "Here, let me give you another. It's a horrible mangling of history, but it's still well written." By now a curious few of the cafe's customers had turned their eyes their way, and were watching in bemused expectation. "Hey-ho, pony folk!" he shouted suddenly, "come listen to my words - for in this tale I shall regale a story yet unheard."

Now many were staring, both in at the tables and from the crowd. Twilight, having sat down opposite the gazelle, shrunk self-consciously into her seat. So much for keeping a low profile, she bemoaned, as Longhorn continued to drag in his audience.

"From whence comes the Hock?" he called, addressing the crowd.

"The high mountains?" somepony suggested, timidly.

"Aye!" Longhorn grinned in the direction of the voice. "And to where flows the Hock?" he asked.

"The Marshlow?"

"The Cerulean Sea!"

"Hockfall!"

"All true, all true," the gazelle confirmed. "And one final question for all you knowledgeable folk. Where did Hockfall itself come from?"

"Um."

"Er..."

"The Princesses built it!" one voice cried.

"Nay, t'were Laird Bluehorn," another replied, indignantly.

"Bluehorn was mad!" the first retorted.

Sensing a potential fall-out, Longhorn stepped in once more. "Ah, ah, please, friends - maybe the good Laird were mad, maybe he was not. But surely you'd have to be a little mad to build a city in a river?"

There were no shouted replies this time, merely mumblings. "So listen," the bard continued, "and I'll tell you a story of the maddest king of all - whether or not tis true is for you to decide." And without further ado, he began to pluck at the frets for real this time, and upbeat melody - not an unhappy one, but certainly with a heaviness, a seriousness to it.

"Discord sat on his marble throne,

His gaze like iron and his heart like stone,

He said to the ponies 'why should ye I save?

Ye can offer nothin' to me.

"'Yer men are weak, they be all the same,

All of ye boring, all of ye sane,

If like me ye cannot behave,

You mean nothin' to me."

Twilight couldn't help but grin, tales of the trickster generally being far more entertaining than her actual encounter with him. The crowd, it seemed, agreed, with smiles gracing almost all of their faces - some amused, some wry, some simply joyous at the entertainment, but barely a downturned muzzle in sight, despite the underlying threat in Discord's supposed words.

"Said the steward there, trembling on his hooves,

'Of what, my Lord, would ye approve?

And show you we be worth your time,

To give back somethin' to thee.'

"Discord laughed from his marble throne,

'Make a home, fit to be my own!

With stone and water, sky and land,

Prove chaos is in thee.

"Build me a castle through the waters flow,

The ground is there where the high winds blow,

With stone and water and ice and snow,

That'd quite surprise me."

"'But that's impossible!' complained the crowd." The gazelle imitated the voice of a Canterlot noble as he ceased his melody and lapsed into speech, strumming insistent chords on his instrument. "'You want us to build a castle, on a mountain, in a river?'"

"'Your old rulers built Canterlot on the side of a mountain,' Discord reminded them. 'surely a city in a river is only the next logical step,' he sneered, for what does the god of chaos care for logic?"

"So the ponies spread out far and wide,

To search for a place where, side by side,

Earth and water and sky did reside,

But no such place could they see.

"'Til one day high in the mountains high,

A raging river did an earth mare spy,

True to the ground yet not far from sky,

Could a home for Discord this be?"

Twilight turned her head away for a moment. Now much of this side of the square was still, watching, a few hooves stomping in time to the beat. Behind her, pegasi watched from rooftop perches rather than try and slip into the throng below. But she couldn't see either of her friends yet - she hoped that they were merely in the crowd.

"Back in Canterlot, Discord was getting impatient. He had let the ponies talk him down from destroying them, so that he could build his world of chaos - but he was in no way bound to his word, and so, deciding that he had given the smaller creatures enough time, he flew out into the world to see just how they were getting along. It didn't take long for him to find the earth pony, stood on the riverbank high in the hills."

"'A impossible task you set," she wept,

'But I think we could do it here,' her heart leapt,

'A castle in the river in the sky,' she said,

'Would that be enough for thee?'

"'Aye,' laughed Discord, with his fangs agleam,

'Some pony-made chaos in this raging stream,

But could you even do it?' said he,

'I don't see it in thee.'

"The mare to herself her success did pledge,

Set herself to work on the river's edge,

But the task was a feat far beyond her strength,

And tire slowly did she.

"Heaping dirt on the riverbed,

She hoped to build a mound, but she found instead-

The soil wouldn't stick, and away it swept!

'Oh, 'tis hopeless!' wept she!

"Then came a pegasus, bold and proud,

He tried to built a castle on a floating cloud,

But the mountain wind did sweep it down,

And aggravated was he.

"Third came the unicorn wise and old,

And with planks of wood he did rope with hold,

Above the river so deep and wide,

And quite happy was he."

"But Hockfall isn't built out of wood!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"It isn't?" Longhorn asked, faking surprise as he continued to strum chords during the unexpected interlude, "thank you, good sir, for letting me know - I doubt I would have noticed elsewise!" The crowd roared with laughter, and Twilight couldn't help but giggle along with them.

"The mage's work was good and strong,

But stone on a branch does not belong,

When the bricks were laid there atop his work,

They fell straight through, and mourned he.

"All seemed lost for the pony folk,

Facing Discord's axe or yoke,

Victims of his cruel joke,

And having failed to please he.

"Then came a new mare, fire in her stride,

Set stone in the banks from side to side,

A bridge on the river great and wide,

And greatly pleased was she.

"Discord gaped at her flowing mane,

Her good sense having fooled the insane,

He yelled and called her by her name,

And quite furious was he.

"'You cheat!' he yelled, 'you've wrecked my fun!

This bridge is not a pony one!

Celestia, ruler of the Sun,

You've come up here and tricked me!"

"'Earth could never swim this river,

Unicorns a bridge could not deliver,

Only alicorn could this be,

But I shan't let this stop me!

"'You may be back,' the Trickster yelled,

'But your subjects are still under my spell!

I'll end them all and thee as well,

And my own world shall this be!'

"Celestia smiled with a knowing grin,

Brought forth a box, and from there within,

Drew forth her weapons, rare and true,

Adorned herself did she.

"A glimmering crown upon her head,

She faced down Discord and struck him dead!

Onto the stones of the bridge he bled,

No more to trouble ponies.

"'What shall we do with this bridge?' she said,

'Let us stay here to live instead!'

The ponies asked with thankful hearts,

For saved them all had she.

"'Alright,' she said, 'I think you could,'

'With sky and water, rock and wood,

Build a home for the true and good,'

And gave it to them did she.

"The bridge stayed strong, held by magics pure,

A home for all who one did look for,

In the Princess rich, from the devil poor,

A great, strong, true home for thee."

The crowd burst into rapturous, stomping applause, the clopping of hooves on the stone floor drowning out all else. Longhorn tipped his head and hat in a sitting bow, and Twilight applauded politely. Some began to throw gold and silver coins at his hooves, the gazelle laughing and shaking his head, but unable to protest over the roar of his new admirers.

However, Twilight saw that not all in the crowd were pleased with his song. There were some frowns, some grimaces, which she noticed come on during the last few verses. Did these ponies follow a different history? Were they proud of their city's traditions? Celestia was not focal to the theories of its founding - and of course, comparing their home to one desired by Discord himself would easily put anypony off.

Anyhow, Twilight reminded herself, it couldn't be the true story anyway. Discord's reign of chaos was long after Hockfall's construction - the city had been around during the Fifty-Years War after all.

The crowd was beginning to disperse, and Twilight politely excused herself, hoping for a better look around - Rarity and Applejack would hang back to speak to the bard, she assumed, if they spotted him, especially if they saw her at his side. Longhorn's plan had been a good one, really - he'd certainly drawn an audience, and held their attention for a good while for a single reel.

She mingled with the reds and yellows and greens and all other manner of shades in the crowd as she weaved between the thinning herd. She kept her eyes open for telltale signs - AJ's hat in particular - but saw nothing. Five minutes later, the square was back to normal, with no sign of her friends.

Damnit, she groaned, maybe they went back to the bridge after AJ calmed down? Or to that other cafe we passed before, the one that Rarity liked the look of the pastries at. Yeah, that'd make sense.

As she turned to do one last scan of the crowd, however, she spotted something she hadn't been expecting at all. If she wasn't keeping a wary eye out, she might have missed it altogether. But a pony in a rough brown cloak was moving across the plaza, pushing ponies roughly aside as she hurried in one direction - facing Twilight head-on, he rushed towards her at a pace just short of a gallop, face hidden beneath a rugged hood.

The scholar's mind, despite her mouth's assurances, immediately thought the worst. He's coming for me. He's coming for me. He knows - he knows something! He - could he be a Knight? Some other enemy? Oh, stars, I have too many of them. She turned, trying to stay calm, walking back towards Longhorn, the gazelle scooping coins off the tiles into his green fedora. But whoever they are, they're coming for me.

He won't try anything in public, she reasoned, if I can stay with Longhorn, he'll help me talk them down, and we'll be safe. But what if he follows us? He could follow us out of town! If we try getting away on the train, he'll probably have cronies further up the line! What am I going to-

She nearly walked right into the figure before her. Tall, broad and stocky, glad in chain barding, the earth pony guard and his patrol partner stared her down. Twilight glanced back, petrified she would be caught, but to her relief the mysterious figure was gone.

"Oh, thank Celestia you were here, officers," she sighed with gratitude, "you couldn't have come at a better time."

"Really?" The two guards looked at each other, one making no effort to hide a smirk. "They still surprise ya sometimes, don't they Alf?"

"Aye, laddie, that they do. I tell ya, lass, 'tis a strange day when I stop a pony an' they give me their thanks."

"Stop a pony?" Twilight frowned, confused. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said, bairn. Lady Sparkle, ye're under arrest."