Courier

by Renaissance Muffins

First published 7th of December, 2012

Letter Bee, a courier of Clackerton, takes a request from a passing childhood friend. After returning home, an imminent coup is unraveled and stopped but at a cost.

Letter Bee, a courier of Clackerton, takes a request from a passing childhood friend. After returning home, an imminent coup is unraveled and stopped but at a cost- his mother.

In the midst of finding his mother, Letter is forced into lands of frozen wastes and heavy snow. Where he is found by locals foraging for food. He is lead to a kingdom on the far side of the world that even Celestia has not known about. A kingdom far more ancient than Canterlot and one holding more secrets behind his mother's past. Secrets that answer more questions than he had before...

Thanks to Backburner and Written Out for editing and suggestions

Foreword & Prologue

Foreword

Upon a doctor's recommendation, I am to write down what I've done in daily or weekly journal entries. Apparently I always had trouble remembering things unless I wrote them down. However, that was several years ago and I've only felt the itch to start writing entries recently. I suppose the main reason that I haven't immediately jumped into the writing was thinking that I didn't feel like I needed to. The kind doctor did supply me with a journal to write in but it sat on a shelf collecting dust until now.

Should this journal find its way out of my possession, return it to the nearest post office. My seal and my name, Letter Bee, will give them some direction in which to send it. Eventually, I would like to pass this journal onto someone else. Be it either by children I might bear or a trusted friend.

Prologue

I grew up in the often crowded of Clackerton. A town located west of the Everfree Forest. The large town was mostly a crossroads and trading center where industrial crafts are fairly common. Large ships came in every morning and usually left the same night. They would bring in crates containing either large machines requiring some assembly after purchase or small and finely detailed jeweled rings using gold and silver. Of course, being a place of just trade wouldn't carry a town forever so other appropriate buildings were made, blacksmiths, barbershops, pharmacies, spas, and of course, a local guard.

The Clackerton Guard, trustworthy as they are always seems to get a bad apple or two in their ranks. “Order & Protection,” it was their motto but some of those bad apples tended to meander from doing so, getting drunk while they're on duty or unlawfully accusing innocents civilians of stealing their coin. Fortunately, that all seemed to come to a halt when I had gotten caught up in one of their messes five years ago.

I was traveling from Flight Gear's, a mentor of mine who had taught me how to fly, back home. Flying within the town was restricted unless you had the proper license. Mountain winds are a very dangerous thing you see, having a habit of whipping about without much warning. Airships didn't have as much trouble though, perhaps due to their size.

Anyways, before I meander further, I had run into three drunken guards, accidentally bumping into one of them as they stumbled out the tavern. The only road out from Flight Gear's lead past there and it was a rather narrow street that lead into the market square. Within the small moment I had spent apologizing to the guard, they had already tied me up and held me to a post. Then, they proceeded to publicly accuse me of the matter but I wasn't alone. They had picked up another young colt, Idol Find. A pony with a quiet and noble heritage

It was a bit sudden, that appearance of the ashen colored wolf and sea foam green unicorn mare. They had pulled themselves through the crowd that had gathered and protested the guards drunken accusations. The fight was rather quick. The unicorn released me and the other colt after pinning two of them down with her mastery of water. The leader of the three guards fought the wolf in sword to sword combat. Amazing that he, the wolf, could wield such a large weapon so easily. Eventually, the wolf brought the guardspony down with a heavy hit to his hind legs using the broadside of his sword. What followed was a loud crack and a scream.

Idol and I thanked them both, but they left pretty quickly. I still wonder today, who they are. I recall Flight Gear leaving the town around the same time as well. He had to travel out west to help some friends of his. He returned about a month later, visibly shaken. I wanted to ask him what had happened but I never had the heart. Whatever it was, he lead him to drinking less than what he used to. His wife told me a bit about what had happened. Something about a wolf that defeated three great beasts that had control of over Celestia's three greatest ships of her legion. It was a fearsome battle. Unfortunately, she kept herself in a very safe part of the ship he flew and didn't see the battles that were fought.

I had asked her about what happened to the wolf, she said that the animal stayed at a place, far west, beyond the edges of most maps chartered of Equestria. She referred to it as the Frozen Desert. A place beyond tall flat-walled cliffs and salt flats which were dotted with marshes. The Frozen Desert was an odd place, the ground was sand but the sky was always filled with endless clouds that created harsh winds and nonstop blizzards. The snow never stayed, always melted once it touched the ground below. She never told me why the wolf stayed there or what might have happened to him.

After he left Clackerton, a large shield was raised up over the town, barring entry and leaving until it went away. What it protected us from was a ink-like cloud that twisted about like a maelstrom. Sometimes it would become dyed with color, bright and vivid. It encircled the entire town, leaving only a small gap in the sky, the only way we could tell if night or day had come to pass. It was scary, to say the least. Some thought it the end of days, a reckoning of sorts. That was until the cloud was cleared away by a wave of silver stretching across the sky.

I don't believe anypony was ever told the cause behind the event. None of the history books in my classes at Clackerton High mentioned it. I suppose some ponies just may have forgotten about it or passed it off with their own conclusions. I wanted an answer. Something concrete, something that would recognize those events. I had a feeling, still do, that I would come across the answer eventually. It didn't need to be rushed. Flight Gear would avoid answering the questions that I had. He would, however, assure me that the answer would come in due time. Saying I wasn't quite ready to understand the full extent of what had happened until the time was right.

For a brief time I too had forgotten about the events altogether. I suppose my focused my mind on other things.

Relishing in happiness with my best friends, Apricot Blossom and Idol Find. Apricot, she was adorable, shy, and fragile but some part of her told me she was strong in her own right. She and the fruit and its blossom flowers, matched their colors quite nicely. Her mane and tail were like the flowers, a faded pink at the root fading to a white in her long flowing locks. She often kept them pinned back with clips, ribbons, or bows. Her dark brown eyes were lovely as well, with their little sand-colored streaks. Her pale orange coat freckled with red-orange spots made her stand out from a crowd. Always had a way with animals, mostly ones surrounding the large apricot tree out in the nearby forest. She was a lovely little earth pony.

We've spent many an afternoon together, her and I. Sitting beneath the apricot tree for our studies. We'd discuss a lot of things, how our classmates weren't very bright sometimes or our families. When we weren't talking or studying, we found ourselves just enjoying the gentle breeze the forest and mountain winds brought us.

Idol Find on the other hoof, often found us together and joked about how we should marry, move into a cottage somewhere and start a family. There's not much I can recall about him at the moment, as he had left for Manehatten some time ago. The most I can remember right now is the letter he sent me and his sequin and black coat. The two colors together like continents and oceans. There was also his issue of being bed-ridden at least once a year, something that brought him close to passing several times. I don't know what it was that kept him alive, but I was glad when it went away. I never saw his family much, suppose they kept to themselves. Snobby bastards, perhaps?

Aside from my two best friends, I have a sister, mother, and father: Busy Bee, Honey Bee, and Carpenter Bee. Each one of them having their own specialized talents. Busy, my sister, kept herself to working as a secretary for the new branch of the post office, the Extended Pony Postal Service (EPPS). She would sort through and organize everything that came through. By route, mostly, and then the addresses in numerical order. I'm sure the system is a bit more complex, but I enjoyed watching her her work her magic when I could. And her knowledge compared to mine was substantially higher. Made me wonder why she never went to Canterlot for its university.

My father, Carpenter, worked as a forepony for house construction, sometimes bridges. He and his crew built at least one house over the course of a week or two. They were once confronted with a challenge, to build a large two-story house in one day. Something that my father and his team easily accomplished. Less of a challenge than getting the sawdust out of his coat, something mother often joked to him about. He often rebutted with a sly joke about how she smelled more like honey than her perfume.

Honey Bee, my mother, ran a honey farm in the back yard within a greenhouse as well. She, like Idol, was prone to illnesses as well. But hers were far less severe, only leaving her bed-ridden once or twice. I think it was because she had a weakened immune system at birth or some accident. She was always so frail but she made dues by selling either bouquets of flowers or jars of honey in the market square.

Today, I've been keeping an eye on mother. Her illness had struck again. Father was working and Busy went out to fetch a doctor. The illness itself was usually a cough and mild fever. To pass the time between us when she couldn't sleep she would tell stories. The was one in particular that she told the best, as though it were part of her family. She often told it to me when I was younger as well, to put me to sleep after tucking me in.

The story always began with a princess, who found an injure kingfisher by a riverbed. They were both young and as she nursed the kingfisher back to good health, they formed a bond. When the time came for her to marry as the laws of the kingdom stated, many a bachelor and princes arrived from all over to take her hoof in marriage, but none of them suited her liking. Her kingfisher kept her spirits high when they were alone with silly little antics. She was growing weary of the useless chatter, after all.

One day, her kingfisher had seemed to disappeared from her castle and she searched the kingdom to find it. All her efforts turned up nothing until she arrived back to where it all began. The river. There she saw her pet kingfisher perched upon a single cattail, staring across the river at a stallion plain as earth, with a kingfisher of his own. The princess invited him to her castle, an offer he gladly accepted, with humble hesitance. They eventually married and as they grew older and had children together, their kingfishers did much the same. One day though, all of the two kingfishers that brought them together passed away and thus taught them how to mourn and carry on.

Mother always mentioned that the four children the royal couple had, saying that one of them was of her lineage. And the mourning part always kind of got to me, since my uncle had passed away well before the incident with the wolf five years ago. Left an impression that will never leave me, I think.

I feel that my mother's story and the story of others, whether fairy tale or truth, have compelled me in writing. However, I also feel that my services as a new courier for EPPS might shine some light on what my true talent is. I've gotten my cutie mark of a quill and paper a year or so ago, after doing some writing for a class. Perhaps my new job and writing these journal entries will bring about something. Perchance even more than that.

Chapter 1: To and Fro and Back Again

#1
Fall. Day 1. Evening. Clackerton

Today, and rather early, the first snow fell as I delivered the last letter in my route. My mom supported my decision to join EPPS. She called it the first step to adulthood and for some strange reason, I was nervous that she would say no. Perhaps it's more of the fact that as part of EPPS, is that they deliver outside of Clackerton. It was a relatively new branch of the local post office, so it hasn't gotten all its bearings together yet.

I've never been outside of Clackerton, but I've looked at plenty of maps to see what was. Canterlot and Ponyville were to the east, Howlite Forest and The Crystal Kingdom to the north, the Frozen Desert and Arid Flats to the west, and Canis Village and Appleloosa to the south. Both Busy and father supported me as well agreeing that as a young colt that my thirst for adventure was insatiable.

Today I write from Clackerton's large clock tower which had recently chimed its bell, marking the last hour of the afternoon and the first of the evening. Apricot joined me in relaxing up here. She spotted me trotting from Auction Square to the tower after I had dropped off my empty messenger bag in my office locker. The chilly air was enough for Apricot to wear her favorite light green sweater with boots to match. She even wore a hat to cover her ears. It all complimented her coat pretty well. She was rather cute, bundled up and sleeping in the corner with some animals that followed her from the forest. I was never too sure about holding a romantic relationship, but perhaps she understood that without me telling her.

I pulled my gaze away from her and stared outside towards the setting sun. The smallest specs of snow revealed themselves and vanished in the sun's rays. I figured that by tomorrow there would at least be a thin layer of snow. The clock tower was always a nice place to view the entire town. During the winter, even more so. The thick blankets of snow that have fallen before have created something that would be like a painting. Aside from that, There was always something new that was springing up from somewhere in town. It could be a parade, a new house, the sound of the auctioneer's yelling from the Square.

Although the clock tower itself was rather nice to look at. The clock tower's archways that lead out to its small balcony provided a glimpse, from the street, of the large copper bell that hung from inside. Each one of the outer walls had a clock face that were a translucent canvas-like material. Each hand was crafted from iron using an intricate braid. The cranking of the large gears that spun them was mostly quiet.

#2
Fall. Day 2. Late Afternoon. Clackerton

I received an acceptance letter for EPPS and was immediately tasked with delivering a Class D letter. The classes were there to organize their priority, can't have royal scrolls getting stuck somewhere in the middle. The acceptance letter arrived in the mail while I was away on my own route. I came across Apricot on my way home, who congratulated me once I had found out.

I went back to the post office to get the letter that awaited there. I was then directed to deliver it to the Palatial Manor to a pony named Whisk. When I arrived, I rung the doorbell and awaited a response. A rather odd looking stallion answered the door and as I handed him the letter, he invited me in. Insisting that he would rather not have me waiting out in the cold. I accepted his offer with some hesitation, though. As he turned away and began writing a response to it, I took in the grand site of the architecture of the Manor. It was of Gothic nature, high vaulted ceilings and stone walls with embedded pillars of bronze. No doubt that this building was meant to withstand centuries of wear.

Turning my attention back to Whisk, who had began whispering the letter aloud to himself, stood before a wooden desk. The sunlight blaring through the window barely bothered him. His rusty beard, short in length, a mane that almost blended in with is butter yellow coat, and his eyes matched his tail with a sage green color. It was as if he had pulled every recessive trait from his parents that was possible. It's unusual seeing such a unique scheme of colors on a single pony. Soon he took his teeth to a pen and began scratching a new blank sheet of parchment.

He finished his letter rather quickly and returned to me, hoofing over an addressed and properly stamped. I reported back to EPPS and reported my progress to my sister, Busy. She worked as the secretary for EPPS. The letter was addressed to Ponyville and she recommended that I leave tonight to deliver it on time, as it was already late in its arrival here.

Before leaving EPPS, the building, Busy tossed me my new uniform. It consisted of a scarf and a hat. Each had a matching badge presenting a pony on an envelope stitched into specific spots on them. On the scarf, which was long, it was placed on both ends and the hat had it stitched into the top. The hat is a beret with a short bill instead of the standard postal cap. Both pieces matched each other, the scarf held an argyle pattern though. Their colors were dull blue and white. Aside from the two new pieces of clothing, Busy also supplied me with a small journal for record keeping, something that every EPPS member needed to keep track off. Mostly delivery times and whether or not the customer wanted the member to deliver something for them immediately.

More writing for me, I suppose. I shall be making the trip to Ponyville after dinner tonight. I'd rather not leave on an empty stomach. I'm actually rather anxious of how things are going to turn out.

#3
Fall. Day 3. Morning .Ponyville

My overnight trip to Ponyville wasn't all too interesting, just the forest canopy and the stars. I managed to cover the distance between Clackerton and Ponyville within a few hours. I recall there being quite a few strange events surrounding the town. Discord and Nightmare Moon were two of the more notable incidents. I recall that the Blight had passed over this place as well, from the few accounts I read about it. I think most ponies at this point may have forgotten about it by now. A good five or six years have passed since then. Still I wondered what was the cause of the Blight was and what its inflictions were. Anyways, I should draw away from that. I'd rather not make up any baseless theories on the matter.

I came upon a house of a rather older mare who eyes seemed like she had seen her fair share of hardships. Her tired eyes and coat were the same rose pink, red mane and tail, a silver horn contrasted her coat though. I wondered why it was different. I felt it would be rude to ask. When I gave her the letter, she encompassed it in a silver glow. Her eyes widened a bit as she read the letter. She, like Whisk, asked me to wait by the door.

As I waited, I saw that the classic white picket fence that surrounded her front yard kept a wide variety of flowers. Some of which I actually recognized, as my mother had the same ones in hers. I saw another mare in her garden, I presumed it was her daughter, quietly picking out the weeds and piling them up. Then a stallion approached the fence from the other side, showing her an incomplete wreath of rosemary sprigs. Neither one of them seemed to mind me waiting here.

Suddenly I heard the front creak open again, snapping me away from the distraction. The old mare let out a short snicker before speaking, “Here you are.” She placed a small package before me, which appeared to contain something about the size of a jar.

The box was surprisingly addressed to Flight Gear, “You know Flight Gear?” I questioned curiously.

“We're old friends, I suppose you could say that he helped me out.” She smiled, “You must be Letter Bee, then. He's told me a few things about you. Says you've got a good thirst for adventure, something my husband has always lacked.” She cleared her throat as if her husband had heard her. “Anyways, take this to Flight and he'll know what to do. One last thing.” she said pulling my ear close to her lips. “You'll be meeting a dragon soon, just kindly introduce yourself to him. He's really quite friendly.”

That statement bothered me for the rest of the day and well into the night. Time had flown by and I suppose I have my getting lost in Ponyville to thank for that. Both upon entering and leaving, mind you. The sun had already begun to set when I began to fly back over the Everfree Forest. I wasn't sure about flying however, as my wings started getting sore from earlier. The muscles were already tensing up. I suppose the annual races and limited flight in Clackerton still weren't enough to keep my wings in good shape.

I took to flying anyways until exhaustion began to kick in. Unfortunately I was still over the Everfree Forest by the time the moon had been raised well into the sky. I thought about sleeping on a cloud but those were lacking and I'd never slept on one before. Instead, I think I'll take to sleeping in a safe spot in one of the taller trees.

#4
Fall. Day 4. Morning. Everfree Forest.

I had a strange dream when I fell asleep last night. This odd feeling of drifting away from the sky and slowly, I was pulled into an empty void until a subtle warmth covered my body. As the warm became more present, I felt myself pulled back into the sky and as I gazed back into the empty void, I felt as if I was saying goodbye to somepony I had never met before. When I stopped, everything flashed away in white.

I threw myself forward as if I was late for an early morning class and wound up knocking my head into the tree branch above me. In my daze, I feel from the branch I slept on and tumbled through the branches below. I was stopped by the thread of a vine wrapped around one of my hind legs, leaving me upside down just a hairbreadths above the grass. Then I remembered my bag, scarf and hat. As well as the package that mare had given me. Looking up, I saw the small box tumbling through the branches as well. With a flap of my wings I managed to pull myself up enough to catch the box and my bag. The scarf found itself tangle up in some of the branches and the hat wasn't too far away.

I sat the box on the ground and pondered what to do. The vine appeared too thick to chew through and using my wings didn't work. I couldn't get enough lift from this angle to propel me above the branches. The blood rushing to my head began to make me dizzy and I began mumbling to myself, to lighten my own mood.

After my vision began to blur, I refocused them after hearing a rustle some of the hedges. When I looked in the direction of the noise, I saw nothing. Whatever was there shifted more and more, moved from one place to another in almost an instant. Timber Wolves? I thought. They were certainly not good news and what most ponies know about them in Clackerton is nil. I wasn't one to know any survival methods against them. All I knew was is that traveled in packs and were dangerous. Heck if I know what they eat.

They hopped out of the bushes and from behind trees, one took to charge at me immediately. I dodged it with a quick flap of my wings only to have them trapped in the mouths of two others. I instinctively reached for the package apologized about having to throw it at the timber wolf. It fell apart and I grabbed my bag to throw it at the other one. With my wings free I was able to dodge the wolf the had charged me at first. These timber wolves were distinctively different to the one that I saw when I was younger. The third one fell into shambles as the one that charged me earlier was joined by another two.

The package and bag were out of reach and I was running out of options. I stared at the three of them and considered just head butting the one in the middle until the five of them magically merged together to form one large timber wolf. I didn't back down, how could I? I swung backward with as much force as I possibly could and brought my head forward to collide with the timber wolf's. For a moment, all there was was a loud crack and a sudden burst of pain. When I had reopened my eyes I saw that the wolf had crumbled apart as if it had run it to a tall post at full speed.

I could however, feel some blood drifting out of my head and make its way across my snout. I turned my attention back to the vine and used one of the sharper sticks from the wolf's remains to cut it as much as I could. It took a few tries, but I managed to cut myself loose. Unfortunately, this lead to a loud and rather uncomfortable snapping sound in my left foreleg as I landed. I immediately reeled back as I gasped for air. I tried to calm myself down but the adrenaline running through me made everything shake uncontrollably.

After grabbing my scarf and hat from the higher parts of the tree, I sought to wrapping my injured leg up somehow. The vine I cut earlier worked well after I covered the injured area with my scarf. I didn't even notice that my head stopped bleeding. After that I took to resting up against the tree trunk. I was absolutely exhausted and defeating those wolves seemed unnatural to me. Perhaps it was just survival instinct. The aid I could apply was something I read about and something that my father told me about.

I should take to covering myself up with some brush, to help camouflage my presence. That dream I had was rather strange.

#5
Fall. Day 4. Early Evening. Everfree Forest. Zecora's House.

I awoke to a cold breeze, but a warm fire. The weight of a blanket covered my back and legs. My weary eyes caught the glimpse of a zebra walking around the room with a large black kettle in the center. There were masks that hung upon the walls that harkened her heritage. Wooden masks carved and painted in exotic shapes and colors. “Excuse me, but where am I?"

"Ah, so you awake. A fair beating you did take. Found beneath a tree, covered with green. Injuries I did treat, using grains of wheat. You're in my humble abode where I dwell and I shall treat you well."

Her rhyming threw me off at first, but as I listened to her more I found that it was her natural way of speaking. "I suppose introductions are in order then. My name is Letter Bee. How did you find me, anyways?"

"Zecora, on my way back with some flora." She answered.

"Thanks, I mean it. I had a bout with some timber wolves before you found me. Shouldn't have slept in that tree."

She threw some sliced carrots and spring onions into a smaller kettle she had off to the side. "Ah, I see. At least you broke free. It must have been frightful, those beasts are always spiteful.”

“It was. I'm not even sure how I came out on top.” I told her as I gazed down at my broken, I think, leg. The pain was a mild and drifting stinging sensation, rather uncomfortable really. “I guess I owe you one. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.”

“There is one thing and that is the picking of Flit Springs.” The name sounded familiar. “In the morning we shall go out to the Glade of Sprouts.” I wondered if she was making it up now. “Wings I will need to pick the Springs.”

It wasn't much longer before I heard the howl of wolves in the distance, crying at the full moon. Coincidentally, she had the food ready at the same time. It was a quiet dinner for the most part. I wasn't sure where to start a conversation. I did fill her in on the reasons why I was in the middle of the Everfree Forest. She related my occupation to a wall-eyed pegasus who worked as a local post officer. She also assured me that the package I had was okay. I asked her why she choose to live out here in the middle of such a dangerous forest. She simply answered that it is the best place to get the ingredients for her potion brews.

After we finished eating, she went up some stairs to her room and I remained on the couch to sleep

#6
Fall. Day 5. Noon. Everfree Forest. Zecora's Home.

This morning, I helped Zecora pick the flowers that she needed. It appears that they grow near the tops of trees along long, entangling vines. She directed me on which ones to pick until I had enough and guided me back to her house.

However, there was a small pond that we stopped by to get a drink of water. When I drank from it, I felt as if a surge of magic flowed through my body. I'm not sure if Zecora saw my reaction to it. I simply told her that water tasted kind of unusual. She cuckled at the thought and told me to relax as she came to drink from the pond quite often. I still wondered what the feeling I had was about.

When we got back to her house, she brewed a potion and took off the makeshift bandage she had crafted out of large leaves and twain to look at the swelling. As she lightly poked at my injured leg to test the swelling, she told me about a friend of hers that taught her some first aid. I related to by telling her a little bit about Apricot. For a moment we thought that they were the same pony until we revealed their names. We both had a good laugh about it. Zecora applied some of the lotion-like substance she brewed to the swelled area to ease both the swelling and the pain. Wrapped it back up and made some lunch shortly afterword.

#7
Fall. Day 5. Late Evening. Clackerton. Home

I made it back home, carrying the package I had as best I could. My leg was still messed up but the pain was minimal thanks to Zecora's treatment. I'm uncertain if there is a broken bone but the possibility is pretty high. I flew home after she pointed me in the right direction and I thanked her again before I left with a hug and the words, “Thank you, you're a good friend.”

I stopped by Flight Gear's home first. He practically lived in his workshop. He signed off the piece of paper I needed to give back to EPPS and took the package. Flight Gear told me that he would have a package for pick up ready by tomorrow.

I took to handing off my report to EPPS and told my sister about what had happened. She hugged me saying that she was glad that I was okay and that she began to worry after I didn't come back in the proper time frame. She assured me that the injury would be covered by the office should I choose to visit the doctor's. I told her that I was planning on doing so anyways. I left her with the slip that Flight Gear signed and my report of everything, excluding conversations and the flower picking.

I visited the doctor's office and he said that the injury should heal up in the next week or two. So long as I don't go using it for anything serious. I will admit that walking around on three legs was difficult but the doctor gave me a temporary flight permit that would last until my leg healed. He said that the head injury I received was nothing to worry about and that the initial concussion had already passed. However, the small gash that was there would be healed in about the same amount of time as my leg. He did admit that he was impressed with what I had done after I told him about the timber wolves.

When I got home, I set my hat and scarf on the the coat rack in my room. Mom and dad weren't around the house. Busy told me that mother had gone to the market to sell the last of the honey we had from last month. Father was busy constructing a bridge to lead from the backside of Clackerton and would connect to another spot of land that would suit more residents of Clackerton. They had workers flattening out what land they needed by carving it out of the side of the mountain. Rock slides and avalanches were common until they managed to get everything to down a safe route.

For the remainder of the day I stayed in my room until the rest of my family got home. Apricot also showed up, apparently she had asked if I had come back yet as soon as I left for the doctor's. I guess we must have missed each other in the crowded street. She hugged me tighter than Busy did and I hugged back, as much as it threw me off balance. We had dinner together and as we ate, I told the story for a third time.

#8
Fall. Day 6. Mid-Afternoon . Clackerton. Flight Gear's home and workshop.

I arrived at Flight Gear's workshop and home as promised and waited for him to give me the package. Instead, what he gave me was some rather fancy equipment he based off of one the ships he built himself. It's air bladders had been dismantled and all that remained was the rigid steel skeleton that had supported them. Only, he would only gave it to me if I was willing to listen to the story behind his first and probably last ship. He guided me through some of the parts where the wolf had taken his steps.

He guided me down to it to show me. Said he kept the ship hidden underground as a security measure. Telling me that he didn't want he destroyed or stolen. There was a fair layer of dust on the ship, as if he hadn't touched it in years. I think I actually remember seeing him taking off in it and heading westward soon after the wolf saved me from the guards. He didn't like to talk about the three ships that he had taken down with it though.

This was the first time he had told me about them, though. He had taken down three of Equestria's best ships: the Flying Mongoose was their fastest but had poor handling and a low amount of weapons, River Fury was their most prized in terms of agility, and Mountain's Hammer was their strongest and of course slowest. He added that the wolf had taken all three of them out mostly on his own. The Intrepid Goshawk didn't have any weapons of her own other than the magic provided by the crew. The Blight had taken over the ships and their attempt to stop the wolf ultimately failed.

The Mongoose fell after the wolf had defeated a pitch black hydra and then set it aflame and its course into an empty field. Second, was the Hammer, which he took out by exposing its fuel and turning it into a massive fireball. Lastly, River Fury was pulled into a mountain peak by use of a his sword and rather lengthy chain. He then went to finished the Blight creature that took form as another hydra but it breathed fire of different colors and had long tentacle arms.

The wolf had taken in the power of the Blight to fight, it was scary how much power that wolf held. Yet, his companions continued to trust him despite the fact that it was practically a plague that spread by feeding off of magic. Somehow, the wolf was able to keep it contained. “When I saw the wolf sitting, after he had turned to stone, I understood that not every hero achieves their greatness by doing just good deeds. He had taken the risk of something that would potentially overwhelm his mind and fought both against it and with it.” He sighed as he slightly turned the wheel of the ship. “The power to raise the sun or moon means nothing in the face of the Blight. I don't know how it came to be, but I'm glad it's gone now. I don't think that wolf ever asked to be a hero. Whisk, Prudence, Marina, Charger, Wrecker, my beautiful Albedo, Lark, Tiva, and Doctor Cuffs. Why their names and stories aren't in the history books yet is beyond me. Perhaps it's for the better that it never does.”

He guided me down to the engine room, which could've easily have fitted a small house. He told me some of the basics of how the engine worked. Large containers fueled a combustible engine which would control the elevation of the ship, as well as steering mechanisms by providing extra power to the gears and rods that controlled them. A single turbine ran through the bottom of the ship, separate containers fed that engine and it was mostly used for controlling the ships speed. The exhaust of the two engines went through the same two outlets. Everything to control the flight path of the ship was held in the bridge. A term he coined for an enclosed cabin that would help to protect and provide easier an easier way to communicate with the rest of the crew.

He lead me off the ship and asked me to keep his story between us. After he knew I understood that with all my heart, he pulled out some equipment that he kept hidden under a tarp nearby. “I've been working on this for quite sometime now. It was an old abandoned project that I wanted to mass produce. Granting flight for anypony. Ever since you joined the new branch of the Pony Postal Service, I figured you might be able to use it, if anything.” He spread out the parts individually, revealing a winged apparatus that seemed largely unfinished. Flight Gear set it down on the work bench he had and listed some of its features. Holding each part up with his magic as he went through them. “There's two small turbines with small canisters for fuel. A collapsible wing cover for aerodynamics and protection. Safe exhausts. Runestones for heat and weight reduction. Pitch, yaw and roll are supposed to be controlled by some collapsible rods with rings wrapped around the forelegs. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten around to it quite yet. I've been basing a majority of the design off of the Goshawk, but memory fails me sometimes. Part of why I've been laying off the drinking.”

“You used to swear a lot too, didn't you?” I asked.

“Yea, it's been a couple months now but it's dwindled over the last year.”

“What are runestones, exactly?”

“Stones with engravings. I think there's some alphabet system to them but I have no idea how that works. That's something Prudence would know, I think. That bookworm.”

“Prudence wouldn't happen to be the one I brought the package from, would it?”

“Correct. Anyways, I should have this done within the next couple days. I hope with your injury you'll be having the next few days off. Get well soon, okay?”

“I will, Flight Gear. An injury like this isn't going to stop me any time soon.”

“Of course. Just...don't burn yourself. I don't want my student to die before me.”

Me being his student was a bit of a joke. Since I was the only pegasus in my family, my father found him through some contacts and hired him to train me in flight. Flight Gear had no experience in flight himself but he understood every rule and concept of it. Down to how the littlest thing can create drag and slow the flier down. “Yea, that would be unfortunate. And thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

#9
Fall. Day 10. Early Morning. Clackerton. Apricot's home.

I awoke early today to my sister nudging me awake. She gathered some travel items for me to take before leaving. I had to get up to deliver a package elsewhere. This one would lead me out west and would require two escorts that I would join me once I got into contact with them. The package was about the same size as the one I had delivered to Flight Gear and now it appeared that he wanted me to deliver it to somepony else far west of here. My leg was in good enough condition to let me get back on the job. The bone fracture, as it turned out, was almost healed. The doctor was surprised at how quick it did heal. The pain was there still, but just a slight sting under pressure.

My goodbyes to my family were bittersweet. I didn't know how long this trip would take and there was nothing to insure that I would safely come back home. They wished me the best of luck on my new trip but before I left, I stopped by Apricot's house. It didn't feel right leaving without saying goodbye to her at the very least.

I walked up the stoop to her house, knocked on the door thrice and awaited a response. The cold air and sun rise were uncomfortably calming. Strange. He mother opened the door. She was a pony that I never really saw all that much but the resemblance between the two of them was uncanny. “Letter Bee, I presume?” I nodded. “She talks about you quite often you know.” She glanced me over from my hat to my saddlebag. “I suppose you're off to deliver a package, then.”

“Yes Ma'am.” I answered politely.

“Of course. I'll fetch her for you.”

She closed the door and I waited again. Apricot's house was nice. It resembled my own a lot and the more I think about it, I think my father actually used the same plan for both of them. The only major difference were the small gardens her mother kept beneath the windows and cobblestone wall to separate the small yard from the road.

Then the door creaked open once again, revealing Apricot's small and tired form. Her hair was disheveled and knotted and eyes weary. “Morning, Letter” She looked me over, just as her mother did. “You're leaving, huh?” She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Somehow, we both agreed to sit down on the top step without a word, looking toward the street. “You remember when we didn't have to worry?”

“Yea.”

“It seems that's gonna change.”

“Yea.”

“Nervous?”

“Yea, but I'm sure I can do this.”

“Don't be sure, know.”

“Right.”

“I made you something since you came back. Close your eyes for a moment.” I complied and soon I felt her forelegs gently pass down both sides of my neck. “Open them.”

I looked down to and lifted a small gold pendant with floral engravings up from my neck, “A pendant?” She pressed a small button on the side and it flipped open. I smiled, gazing into the tiny head portraits of her and I. “This is really nice. I love it.”

“I knew you would. I made it so you had something to think about, at least.” She placed her hoof on top mine and leaned in to kiss me and almost immediately pulled away, “I love you.”

Her cheeks turned red and I could feel mine flush up as well. It was something a long time coming. “I love you, too.”

She threw her forelegs around my neck and whispered, “Just come back safely, okay?”

I hugged her back, “I will. I know I will.”

“Good.” She pulled away again. “Just don't keep me waiting.”

“I won't. I'll be back as soon as I'm done.”

#10
Fall. Day 10. Late Afternoon. Dullard.

After saying my rather bittersweet goodbyes to my family and Apricot, I flew out west toward a newly founded village that was still in its early stages. Where Flight Gear said I was to meet two of his old companions. Both of them well known for not only mercenary work, but working as part of Celestia's legion for a short time as well. He described Charger as being a white pegasus with a bright yellow mane who could leave a contrail of yellow light behind him. The other stallion, Wrecker, was as large as Celestia. Full of muscle and stronger than Equestira's toughest creatures and adding that he normally wore armor that resembled the bone and skin of a massive serpent he had killed.

I flew over loads of beautiful scenery on my way to Dullard. A small village that, as I said was founded recently, was named after the pony who had founded it. Kind of funny how that would happen. The vasts plains and forests the crowded around the mountain ranges streaked with varied rivers and falls felt almost sentimental. Fog still rose from those streams of water. I could spot several caravans of merchants and travelers making their own way in the world, taking paths of dirt or worn grass.

These mountains were somewhat dangerous, as strong gusts of winds could spin any pegasus out of control. Thankfully, I had plenty of practice in the time that I did spend just outside of Clackerton, where the flight restrictions didn't apply. Helped a lot during the annual races that I participated in while I was in school.

When I got to Dullard, I found out that village was still relatively small. Hay roofed houses with wooden beams and plaster walls, a fair few still largely unfinished. There were only ten or twelve houses surrounded by a low rise iron fence. I guess it helped to keep out wild animals. Dullard sat between a forest and a river with plenty of room for a train station or port for large zeppelins. I spotted an unusual set of tents at the north end of the village. One of them was distinct enough, bearing the colors and patterns associated with Celestia's legion. The other tents appeared to house the mayor and his family.

I approached a stallion that was guarding the tent which appeared to belong to Celestia. He fit the description of Wrecker. A helmet that appeared to have to been carved from bone and reinforced with large scales dark in color. It was almost as if a dragon had taken the form of a pony. He probably couldn't even fit through the average doorway. He leaned over a bit, “May I help you?” His voice resounded under the armor which covered his entire body.

I nervously spoke up, “Yes, um, I'm looking for two stallions on the behalf of Flight Gear for a delivery.” his size and voice were intimidating. “Wrecker, I presume?”

“Hmm...Correct.” He then held his head high and shouted, “Charger! A visitor.”

Another stallion's voice came from inside the tent, “I hear ya.” A bright white pegasus came out from and introduced himself, “Name's Charger, what can I do you for?” Compared to Wrecker, Charger was like a dwarf. I proceeded to hand him the letter that Flight Gear had given me which he promptly opened and read. “So he wants us to escort you to there, huh? Looks like Prudence and Whisk got the stuff together they needed for Abner.” he sighed and smiled “It'll be good to get him back home.”

“Abner?” I asked.

“Flight Gear never told you his name?” He said, folding the letter back up and placing it in his saddlebag. “Well, I suppose he could've forgotten the wolf's name. He saved Equestria, you know.”

“Really?”

“Yup, I can tell you more of the story later. I've to let Mr. Dullard know that we're leaving and that the paperwork should be going through soon. Wrecker, start packing up our supplies. We'll head out tonight. We've already spent too much time here.”

#11
Fall. Day 10/11. Midnight. West of Dullard.

Charger and I flew just above the trees as we headed further west. Wrecker ran along the ground at a great pace. Even with the heavy plate-like armor he wore. As we flew, Charger told me about how Wrecker was part of a very tribal race of ponies that lived in the salt flats just before the Frozen Desert. They thrived in a small marshland there and hunted down beasts of incredible sizes. Each one of them were maybe ten times stronger than the average earth pony but Wrecker could move a mountain if he wanted to. Charger added that he knew that Wrecker was just an alias but he never found out his actual name.

We stopped traveling when the sun had finished setting and the moon was brought up to reveal the gorgeous night sky. Setting up camp in a small glade within the forest, Charger and Wrecker began setting up the things we needed for a small fire and some blankets. Charger told me to take the other blanket, Wrecker never really used one as it was.

“Say, what was your name again?”

“Letter Bee, sir.”

“Don't worry about formalities, kid.” He said, nudging some of the ashen wood within the campfire with his saber. “You miss home? You've got somepony waiting for you?”

“I do.”

“Good. That's good.” He seemed almost sentimental as he spoke until his head perked up at the rustling of trees in the distance. “Wrecker, I think we've upset something big. Letter stay by me.”

The large animal turned out to be an Usra Major, a giant bear that appeared as if it had come down from the stars and it could stand well above the top of these trees. It broke through the trees, all the while snarling and letting out a deafening roar. Wrecker approached the creature without any faltering in his legs. The Ursa Major brought down one paw to swipe at him only to have its paw stopped by a single hoof belonging to Wrecker. The celestial bear reeled back its paw as if it had actually stung him. Wrecker then charged toward the Ursa as it began to bring its head to bite at him. Then, with a quick grasp of its snout and a twist, Wrecker sent the Ursa barreling through some more trees. The ethereal bear snarled in defeat and retreated back into a different part of the forest.

I had never seen such an overwhelming display of power. I suppose what Charger had told me was right. It brought me to question what new things I would see in my adventures as a courier. Wrecker stayed awake for the rest of the night to stand guard while Charger and I slept. Charger didn't seem at all worried.

#12
Fall. Day 11. Noon The Frozen Desert

We found ourselves traveling over the the salt flats now, far away from the dreaded forests atop of the cliffs behind us. The flats were a land of cracked and dried mud, unable to bear much life aside from the few marshes that were insanely far apart. We had chosen to walk to save our strength and partly due to the fact that there didn't seem to be any large animals out here capable of perceiving us as prey.

I asked Charger more about the wolf as we walked. He seemed more than happy to fill me in on. First, a great dragon by the name of Stribog had destroyed Abner's home. He and his squad plus half a battalion were deployed to the scene. “We guessed that it might return and we were correct. Unfortunately we lost quite a few good soldiers that day. What alerted us was the towering pillar of smoke visible from Canterlot.” His story continued on about how Abner had taken in Stribog's mind and body through some strange magic. Then the moment where he betrayed Abner to deliver the sword back to Celestia who was, at the time, under the influence of the Blight. Abner managed to get the sword back in part to Whisk's, Wrecker's, and Marina's insubordination. “They tore up the tracks leading to Ponyville with improvised explosives because the brakes went out. At least, that's what I heard.”

Then he got to the point where he was run through by Abner's sword but he didn't know until the beast he had defeated had faded away. “Being consumed by Blight is truly terrify, Letter. Every passing moment, I was trapped in reliving my happiest memories that twisted themselves into nightmares. It felt like an eternity until Abner saved me. Although he had run me through, he performed a spell that reversed the wound.” He glanced up towards the desert in the distance, where a massive blizzard seemed to be taking its toll. “I suppose we've still got time for the rest of the story.” He continued the story, straying away from too much detail. “We then took out two of Celestia's larger warships and continued on into the desert after stopping by Wrecker's home. When we got into the desert, we had to wait for the nomadic tribe that travel around here to show up so we could follow them to an ancient castle buried by the sands. Apparently they follow some ancient whale that pretty much brings good weather behind it. After we got to the castle with its three remaining towers, surrounding arched wall colonnade, and a ritualistic circle, we fought off a massive army of Blight. They took on all sorts of forms: hydras, dragons, ponies, bears, gryphons, and rhinos. There were some that were practically unidentifiable.” Charger took a deep breath before speaking up again. It appeared that talking this much was more than average for him. “Anyways, Lark and Tiva did this little song and dance which turned Abner and his swords to stone. Which ultimately unraveled the Blight entirely. The package that you're carrying was created by Prudence to cure Abner.”

“That's quite the story, Charger.” I remarked. “ I think he actually saved me when I was younger. He stopped by Clackerton and I guess after he left, there was a massive shield raised to protect the entiretown.”

“Clackerton!? That's where I grew up. My family owns the Palatial Manor.” He went on about his sister a bit and how Whisk had eventually married her. He didn't speak of his parents however, I guess they either left them alone, or they passed on. I didn't bother him much about the topic. Maybe this was part of the reason why he asked those questions last night, when we sat in front of the campfires. I related with what I could about my personal experiences there.

Before we knew it, we found ourselves at the edge of the blizzard wall. There, we awaited the arrival of the nomads that Charger had told me about.

#13
Fall. Day 12. Evening. The Buried Castle.

We spent the entire later half of the yesterday waiting for the tribe to show up. They eventually showed up around noon today. The leader of the tribe appeared to recognize Charger and Wrecker. I suppose that even after seeing them for such a short time, they left a remarkable impression. It was strange how the weather worked here. The clouds were clear in the area we traveled but all around us was nothing but snow. Even stranger was the fact that the snow never seemed to stay on the ground for very long. Perhaps it was the influence of the so-called whale that this tribe endlessly followed. The winds never seemed to cease either.

Once the evening had set in and the moon once again found itself high in the sky. The tribe pointed us toward the castle and took their leave. The weather was thankfully clear. I stood in aw at what I saw, so much so that I stopped in my tracks to take in the massive structure. Three towers broken apart and the bridges that connected them had their shattered debris scattered across the sands below. The colonnade that surrounded the towers appeared to be a second set instead of an outer wall. Every wall was crafted from sandstone and it appeared to have been reinforced by something I couldn't recognize. Everything that the castle was had long ago been buried by the sands. I could only marvel at the fact that such a place existed and stood to this day.

Charger broke me from my thought, telling me to hurry up. That's when I saw what Charger had spoke about. Upon a ritualistic circle of engraved stone was a statue of a wolf. Surrounding the stone circle was, surprisingly and strangely, a garden consisting of lilies that appeared to glow blue under the night sky. I think mother has one of these in her garden.

Charger took the package that I had carried, opened it and revealed a ornate vase made from jade that had been corked. He then began to spread the liquid that was inside along the wolf's back and around his paws. It took a moment before it kicked in, slowly flaking apart the stone skin. There was a detail that I seemed to always forgotten about, the wolf had a horn. Something that only creatures able to cast magic should have. I wonder what had brought that upon him.

After all of the stone had flaked away, the wolf collapsed and only to be caught by Charger. I was surprised that Abner hadn't been protected after five years of being here. Until a large dragon and stone golem of ice and earth revealed themselves. The dragon flew down from one of the towers and the golem reform itself from a several piles of stone that had been scattered about the grounds. The dragon landing in what seemed like our one and only exit. The golem brought itself to attack Charger and Wrecker, but reeled back as if it had recognized them.

The blue-violet dragon spoke up, “It has been quite some, hasn't it?”

“Indeed it has, Stribog. Five years now.” Charger replied, almost yelling.

“Feels, longer.”

“You're a dragon. You've been alive for thousands of years.”

“I suppose you've a point.”

“Don't suppose you can offer us a ride back home, do you?”

“Abner must regain himself first, his senses should come to be, at least.”

“You have a point.”

“Who is this young one you've brought along?” The dragon peered down at me.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself.” Charger encouraged

“Letter Bee.” I answered nervously

The golem, Njördur, sparked a fire and we brought out the blankets once again. Wrecker actually slept, for once. Stribog and Charger chatted for a little bit. I couldn't sleep, I think just me being in a new place has thrown off my normal sleeping habits. Maybe it was the desert air. Stribog caught a glance of me in writing this but he didn't say much. I'm sure he might find it interesting.

#14
Fall. Day 14. Morning. Canis Village.

It's been two days since we've pulled Abner from the stone shell he was once in. Now, by Stribog's great strides of flight, we wound up in Canis Village. A place that Abner called his home. It was a long flight, one that I managed to get some sleep on, strangely peacefully. Yesterday was mostly just flying with a couple breaks between for food and to avoid some bad weather.

The wolf didn't talk, I'm not sure if he understood our language. However, Charger assured me that he could but it's not a good idea to start using muscles you haven't used in years. I guess he was, Abner hadn't opened his eyes since his revival, I guess I can call it. Njördur managed to transform himself into a necklace that Abner could use as some sort of summoning amulet. There's a lot about magic that I've yet to understand and this is just start of it.

Abner's family was absolutely to see Abner after being away for so long. Each one of them thanked me and hugged me. There was, however, a single unicorn that thanked me as well. A lovely mare with a soothing voice, every word sounding like the songs of beautiful birds. I believe Lark Song was her name.

After the thanks, Abner's mother gave me that petals of the lily that bloomed under the moon light and glowed a light blue. Lark was able to translate what she was telling me about the flower. Saying that the legend behind the flower itself was that if there were no stars in the night sky, these flowers always grew with them, in the same constellations and arrangements. Follow the flowers and you'll find your way home. She had weaved the petals and stem together to form something of a bracelet, which she tied around the necklace I wore.

I waited by the fountain which held a large statue of Abner on three of his legs, the fourth raised up and his head turned toward, I think, Canterlot. Charger approached me and said that he, Wrecker, and I would travel back to Clackerton without the dragon, Stribog. Thankfully, there was a a train the headed into Ponyville, so we didn't have to worry about getting lost anytime soon. We would however, still have to go through the Everfree Forest, or over it.

I asked why the dragon couldn't fly us to Clackerton, Charger told me that he had a debt to Abner for saving his life and essentially making him whole again. The same could be said about Prudence, who had given Abner the ability to use magic. That was a question that I would have to ask Prudence the next time I met her, as Charger and Wrecker didn't have the answer.

#15
Fall. Day 14. Evening. Clackerton. Home.

Charger and Wrecker diligently escorted me through the Everfree Forest and up to the entrance of Clackerton. Charger wished me the best of luck and said something that I think will be sticking with me for a long time. “Letter, as a courier, bringing letters to those addressed means a lot. Something you should take pride in. You won't always be bringing back letters and good news.” That is where we parted ways. I asked him why he didn't want go home, he answered that it's not time for him yet. A strange answer, indeed. I get the feeling that this won't be the only time I'll be see those two and Abner.

I came home to an empty house and brought myself before a candlelight to write this. The ink in my pen has almost run dry, amazing really. I didn't think I would write this much but I hope it suffices for the future. I suppose I'll see to Apricot later, either tonight or in the morning but for now I think I'll be taking another nap. All that walking through Everfree isn't something I was used to.

Chapter 2: Kingdom in the East

#16
Fall. Day 15. Morning. Clackerton.

This morning I awoke to a surprise breakfast prepared my my mother and sister. Father was out of the house, leaving early for work. He knew that I was okay and I understood that his work was important to him. By no means was he married to it. After a good breakfast of wheat-grass, toast, and milk I was off to work again.

Busy walked alongside me, down the foggy streets of cobblestone. Our only way of seeing what was where were the tall, brightly lit streetlamps standing at every corner. The dangling lanterns rattled lightly in the wind. The trees were a palette of warm colors this time of year, always were. The frigid breeze crisped up the leaves, turning them into something particularly fragile. But the sound of their crunching beneath our hooves were a delightful sound.

While we walked, Busy asked me how my first delivery went. I gladly told her about the stop at Dullard and I met two incredible stallions who guided me into the Frozen Desert. How they applied some strange potion to the back of a petrified wolf and it freed him from his stone prison. “Abner even had two guardians of his own. A golem made of ice and earth and just this gigantic dragon that could've easily had us as a snack. But he was friendly. Charger said that the dragon had lived for several thousand years.”

“Sounds like quite the adventure you had. You always had a knack for it. Tell me, did they guide you home as well?” She asked as she unlocked the door to the post office.

“They did, but we left the dragon, Abner, and his golem back in Canis Village.”

“I remember hearing about that place. A dragon wiped it out a couple years ago if I recall correctly. Guess they rebuilt what they had.” My sister always had a habit of jumping to conclusions, but they were always well-educated ones.

“Probably.”

We were inside the office now, dim sunrise piercing through the windows. “They didn't come into town with you?”

“Well, Charger said he grew up here but he said that it he had other matters that needed to attended to.”

“That's fine. Just as long as you're safe.” Safe? That was a word mother always used with us. Guess their likenesses in personality are becoming more prevalent.

As I gathered up the papers for my daily route, the office slowly became noisier. The other employees came in slowly one after the other. I punched in and left as soon as Busy was finished organizing the deliveries for my route.

#17
Fall. Day 15. Afternoon. Clackerton. Flight Gear's Workshop.

After successfully delivering each one paper and envelope on my route and giving Busy both my report of the extended delivery and today's punch card, I headed to Flight Gear's Workshop. I wanted to see if he had finished the equipment he was making for me.

When I arrived I found him shooing out a couple of troublesome young colts. “You two keep coming in here and playing with my stock I'm gonna have to make something to keep ya out! Ya hear?”

The two colts hurried down the narrow road, giggling to themselves. They brushed me by and for a moment it reminded me of when I was a bit more reckless. I smiled and continued on, seeing Albedo, Flight Gear's wife, standing on the roof of the workshop. Always went up there so she could give a weather forecast for the next day. I entered the workshop, seeing him hard at work crafting something small and intricate. Hard to tell what it was.

“Flight Gear!” I called out.

I had yanked him from his concentration. In his frightened fit he fired the screwdriver in his magical grasp into the ceiling and through the roof. We both heard a shriek come from the roof. “Sorry, honey!” he yelled.

Her yelled reply was faint, “What in the blazes are you doing down there, makin' a crossbow!?”

“Customer scared me, is all.”

“I better not come down there to no one at all, sugar.”

“You're welcome to check!” Once the yelling had stopped, he turned his attention back to me.

They both had some banter to say to one another when they were together. I wonder how their relationship even came to be. “Flight, I was wondering if you've made any progress on that equipment you were making.”

“Oh, I have. Not nearly as much I would've liked to, but I have.” I heard him mumble to himself while he located the different parts under his workbench. Slowly, the were reassembled again. “I keep it dismantled because of those two kids I threw out earlier. You saw them I'm sure.” he waited fro me to answer.

“I did.”

“Anyways, I found a way to get the controls entirely wing-based, so to speak.”

“So to speak?”

“It needs some tweaking, still and then the last few parts.”

“How will it work?” I moved in closer to his desk which he used as a front counter.

“Well, normally I craft stuff like this to work for anypony, no matter the race. But I'm taking some shortcuts here. It'll only work for Pegasi.” He began to point out small flaps located on the chassis of the equipment. “Your flight will be enhanced by these flaps here, here, and here. I had to develop the wing shielding to reduce both strain and improve aerodynamics.” He laid the equipment out across the counter. “I have to warn you though, this is fragile with the current material and with the increased performance comes a risk.”

“Risk?” I inquired.

“Blacking out. G-forces that forces the blood to the hooves too quickly.”

“I think I may have done that once or twice.”

He put the equipment away as I browsed through some of his other wares. “How's your leg?” he asked.

“Doing okay I guess. Doctor said it should heal up in a couple days.”

“That's good. Just don't get yourself in a sorry state.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine.”

It was amazing how much his personality changed when I first knew him. He had tossed aside his profane language and nearly quit his drinking habits. He still had a small glass of his favorite whiskey every now and again though.

#18
Fall. Day 15. Late Evening. Clackerton. Clock Tower

I went up to the clock tower again. Just wanted to view the town from up high and see if there was anything new sprouting up. The crisp cold air gave me goosebumps but I got used to it. Town always looks so different at night during the day. Any town would I'd imagine. Every place that bustled this time of night, taverns, inns, bars, kept their lights on throughout the night. In their glow you could almost hear the echo of their crowds.

I looked up at the stars for a moment just to see if I could make out any of the constellations. The North Star was there, brightest and earliest as it always was. It marked the handle of the Little Dipper not far from it, the Big Dipper. I remembered the petals of the flower that Abner's mother had given to me. I don't know how but she managed to interweave them into the chain of my pendent. I pulled the locket from my chest and saw the the petals still emitted a faint blue glow. Wonder what magic causes this.

Then I opened it with a press of a button. Two portrait photos, I on the left and Apricot on the right. I smiled to myself and closed the locket back up. The clock tower's balcony always has a nice view. You could easily each end of town despite the tall inn that had sprung up in the market square recently.

I wandered my way back into the clock tower to the sound of quiet breathing. A couple of animals had curled up amongst each other for warmth. Some of them were familiar faces, they followed Apricot around town sometimes and helped her out when she needed it. I thought about sleeping beside them for a moment.

Then a flash of light blinded me. I heard paper hit the floor as I opened my eyes, straining to adjust. A scroll? It was clasped shut with a ribbon and what looked like a royal seal. There wasn't a single pony that I knew of that could do such a thing. I should check with Busy tomorrow and have her look it over but curiosity is getting the better of me.

#19
Fall. Day 15. Late Evening. Clackerton. Home.

I made my way home from the clock tower after reading that scroll. Letter, rather. I walked slowly through the house, cautious of the creaky boards that could awake my parents. Busy was a heavy sleeper. Finding the table in my room by candlelight, I pulled the clasped ribbon off the paper I had received and read through it.

It was from Princess Celestia, wishing to congratulate my safe return from the Frozen Desert and returning Abner to his home. She knew about him? How? Despite my confusion I continued to read on. The rest of the letter appeared to be an invitation to her castle. Some part of it seemed like it was a request as well. She mentioned EPPS and that she has already seen to it that I get the days off. With the letter, she had appended a single train ticket from Ponyville to Canterlot.

Canterlot? I feel deserving of thanks but not praise if that's what she wants. But I digress, royalty of the highest order shouldn't be ignored She requested that I leave in two days and that she would have someone escort me through the Everfree Forest. Still, she didn't state what she was offering or what the real purpose was behind her invitation other than the congratulations. I'll have to consult Busy tomorrow on the matter but for now I need some rest.

#20
Fall. Day 16. Afternoon. Clackerton. Post Office.

I talked to Busy. She looked over the seal on the ribbon that came with the letter. As well as the intricate stamp that had been left next to Celestia's signature. She had heard something about my days off for tomorrow. It was practically a vacation as the time off extended up to the end of next week. I guess the letter confirmed her suspicions of why I did. She promptly congratulated me on getting a visit to Canterlot and a personal thanks from the Princess. Busy didn't quite understand the reason for it but she was more than happy for me.

I'll be packing my things tonight after dinner tonight. I'm not sure how my parents will take the news, I'm sure they'll be happy about it. I just hate having to leave so soon.

#21
Fall. Day 16. Evening. Clackerton. Home.

The dinner table was a bit quiet tonight. The only sounds that really filled the air was just the clink of silverware against the plates. I sprung up a conversation about the letter I had received from the Princess. My mother and father both congratulated me but there was still some uneasy tension. I'm not sure if they both expected me to leave again so soon or if they were having trouble adjusting. Then again, maybe I brought the subject up at a bad time. They need to know, though. I just wonder what awaits me at Canterlot.

#22
Fall. Day 17. Early Morning. Clackerton.

I'm waiting for my escort to arrive, just outside Clackerton's walls. I left the house this morning, well before the rest of my family got up. I managed to give them all a hug while they slept without waking them. I packed a few sandwiches to eat on the way and headed out the door. Before I made my way off the porch, my father stopped me. Apparently he found his way out without alerting me. “Son.” his deep voice was unusual to hear as a whisper.

I jumped a little bit. “Dad?”

“Your mother and I are both taking this pretty hard. We're both happy that you get to meet the Princess but you having to leave for long durations of time is what has us worried.”

“I think I'm still adjusting to my new job for the most part, Dad.”

“We are too. We can't always stay in one place.” That rings true to my ears, they still do. He gave me a hug and gave me his goodbye. “I'll be seeing you soon. Just, don't injure yourself again, okay?”

“I'll try not to.”

“Also, you best say something to Apricot before you go.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

I went to Apricot's house and knocked on her door again. I was greeted by her mother once more, dressed in a nightgown this time. She fetched Apricot. I told Apricot I'd be leaving for Canterlot and she understood. I saw her face twinge at the thought of me not returning. I told her I would be thinking her while I was away and that I'd return in good health. It cheered her up but I know she'll miss me. I know I'll miss her and I'd rather not leave her. I don't like seeing her lonely.

I think I see my escort coming up the road now. A familiar figure. Mohawk, black and white stripes. It's Zecora. Didn't think she'd ever venture out here.

#23
Fall. Day 17. Early Afternoon. Ponyville Train Station.

Waiting at the train station now, Zecora sitting beside me. It was quiet for the most part, we didn’t have much to talk about. She asked how my leg was. I said it was fine, just a little sore. The trip through Everfree didn't seem to take as much of a toll as it did before.

The train station was quiet aside from the little filly and her parent that ran around. The stallion behind the front counter looked familiar. I think it may be Prudence's husband. The two of them have something special I think.

I can hear the train coming from over the horizon now. It was pretty brightly colored compared to what one would initially expect. Its horn managed to echo inside the station and its billowing cloud of smoke getting ever larger. The chugging of the engine is getting louder and the brakes began to squeal. A mare's voice came in over the loudspeaker, “Ponyville to Canterlot train now arriving. All passengers should prepare their tickets and luggage before boarding.”

“Guess I'll be seeing you when I get back.” I said to Zecora.

“Indeed. But first, I have something you need.” She pulled out a small corked pot wrapped in a rough brown cloth, rawhide.

“This is...?”

“A potion to help with motion. Celestia's request I'll attest. Take this brew where the storm brews.”

I grabbed the potion and placed it in my saddlebag. “I'll keep it in mind, Zecora. Thank you.”

I got on the train and sat in one of the cars towards the back. Then the train lurched forward and began taking one of the turnarounds.

From afar, the panoramic view of the distant mountains and the faintly visible castle was, well, exciting. I have to stop writing though, the motion of the train and staring at the pages of this journal seems to bugging my head.

#24
Fall. Day 17. Late Afternoon. Canterlot Train Station.

Zecora told me, before I left Ponyville, that I'd have somepony waiting to escort me from the train station here to Celestia's castle. I looked around after departing the train, my saddlebag in tow. I wore my uniform to hopefully make myself stand out from the rest of the crowd. I didn't think it helped much at first but I was found by my escort. A humble looking mare with a pair of glasses to help with her sight. “Letter Bee?”

“That's correct.” I was a bit confused at how she knew how to identify me.

She relieved a sigh, “Good. I thought I'd never find you in this crowd. I'm still kinda new to this, honestly.” Her voice was flustered, panicked, even.

“Let's find our way out of the station, shall we? Your lead”

“Right, of course. Celestia wanted to see you as soon as you got to the castle.”

“Well, let's not disappoint her then.”

We found our way through the well dressed crowd. Something that made me feel rather out of place. My escort got a bit less jittery once we did, I figure she's nervous around large groups of ponies. Canterlot was remarkable. The mountain breeze reminded me of home and I wondered if flight restrictions existed here. I thought to ask her but ultimately withdrew.

The stone for the roadways here were different than the ones back home. Brighter coloration and larger slabs overall. And everything was just so ornately designed. Every edged object appeared to end in a swirl and a majority of the roofs came to a steep point. Windows were mostly purple and blue tints and there are a vastly larger amount of stores here compared to Clackerton.

“Oh dear. I think... I think I may have gotten ourselves lost.”

“Oh dear indeed.” I humored.

Her cheeks flared up. Easily embarrassed, it seems. “Ugh. She wants us back soon and I don't want to disappoint her and it's my first day doing this and I'm still pretty new and-”

“Alright. Alright. Settle down.” I moved my mouth as if to say her name, but I found that I had never gotten it in the first place. “Say, what was your name?”

“Sitka Spruce.” Fitting name considering her cutie mark.

“Well then, Sitka. Just relax your head for a moment and think of how you got to the train station and we can backtrack from there. I'm sure Celestia won't be too worried about it.”

“Right. Right. I just- I mean, I'm just nervous is all.”

“I can tell.” I snickered.

We found ourselves back on the right road. Funny, due to the fact it's the largest friggin road in Canterlot. We chatted a bit more during our walk to the castle gates. I learned that she had moved to Canterlot from some unnamed stretch of houses that all worked together to raise tree farms. Her reason for moving here being that she wanted an agricultural degree in it. Her working under Celestia as one of her many servants was kind of happenstance. Sitka had run into her by accident and her nature had intrigued Celestia somehow.

We finally made it to the castle, pearly gates and two guards stood between us. Canterlot was a marvel of architecture and it's castle of many disjointed towers held many a wonder. Sitka said a word or two the lead guard and they opened a smaller, inset door in the large gate. A convenience thing I suppose.

When we got inside the castle, we were greeted by a line of guards stiff as boards on either side of the runway of a rug. So much fucking purple and gold. At least it actually looks nice and not some clash of neon hues of the two.

“Right, I still have to lead you to your room.”

“I get a room?”

“All guests of honor do.”

“I'm a guest of honor? Seems like a little bit much.”

“I agree, honestly. You don't seem like much of anything.”

“Because I'm not.” Her words hurt a bit but I didn't have much of a rebuttal either.

She lead me to my room, rather large and standard for royalty. The bay window even had a view of the gardens below where rich ponies could gather and mingle. Sitka left me a key and went off to find the princess. She assured me that she wouldn't get lost either.

I still hadn't asked her how she found me out from the crowd.

#25
Fall. Day 17. Evening. Canterlot Castle.

Sitka came back and told me that she had let the princess know that I'd arrived. She couldn't stay and chat, unfortunately.

The boredom was killing me and my mind seems perfectly ripe for thoughts of home. I wondered how my family was doing and how Apricot was holding up. It's a bit early to start the want to head back home. I remembered my father's words and somehow they settled me down. My anxiousness vanished and I refocused my concerns. I was going to see the Princess. I'm not sue what she wanted or what she was going to do but I'll be needing to mind my manners at the very least.

There's a rasping at the door. I'll be back soon.

#26
Fall. Day 17. Late Evening. Canterlot Castle.

Well, the meet with Celestia went well. She wants me to head over to someplace called the Light Fringe Kingdom. She described it as a kingdom that was slowly falling apart. So the King and Queen there were trying to work something out to create some sort of mass migration to get them somewhere safer. And while I do agree with it, why send me? I don't have the right to meddle in royal affairs. I tried to word it as kindly as possible.

“I specifically called for you because I received good word from a few friends of yours.”

“Friends? You mean Charger and Wrecker?”

“Correct. Charger sees a greatness in you, Letter. I've commanded him to accomplish many a task. All done phenomenally well. You may not have the great ability to break a storm or manipulate the weather but I see in you an earnest heart. No matter what message you may bring, you'll be connecting ponies to one another.”

“I know but I still don't understand why you'd have me do this.”

“Consider it a test. Set the bar of what couriers can do. Let them know that they don't just deliver packages and letters but that they bring together the hearts of ponies far apart. Ease their worries.”

At this point I wasn't sure if I could refuse. Her argument was solid and it is exactly what my job entails. It shouldn't matter if I'm taking the letter from a beggar or a royal. It is my job, my duty, to deliver it. And I shall. I ultimately accepted her request and tomorrow morning I shall be leaving. Debarking soon after breakfast. The method I'll be taking to get there, I'm not sure about yet.

#27
Fall. Day 18. Early Morning. Canterlot Castle Docks.

I had a hearty breakfast in the vast dining hall of the castle. I recall the most delicious thing being a pasta of some sort. It was nice, to have breakfast there and have a gentle conversation with the two Princesses of Equestria, Celestia and Luna.

Afterward, I was escorted to the dock by both Celestia and Sitka. Luna had other matters to attend to. She look tired as it was and well, being a princess of the night, I figure breakfast is probably a lot more like dinner. Celestia warned me that this was going to be a long flight and commissioned a small airship for my personal use. “You'll be quickly shown by the flight instructor how to fly it. I made sure this was easy enough to fly with just a couple pedals and the wheel. You may actually recognize a few things.”

“Really?”

“I'm sure the name Flight Gear rings a bell.”

“It does. How do you even know about him?”

“I have my ways, I assure you. I'm considering commissioning something much larger from him later. He has a very good reputation for this kind of thing.”

“Right. Anyways, when should I head out?'

“As soon as you're done with the lesson.” She called over the flight instructor. “Skip, show Letter how to operate the new ship, please.”

“Of course, your highness.” He was very stern and spoke proudly with a quick salute. He told me, “Not to worry. This thing's pretty easy to fly.” He pulled me away from Celestia and directed me to the small ship. “Silver Liner, he named it.”

Name was suitable. Small silver hull with two metal wings protruding outward. They met the hull at some enclosed disc structure. He had the same engine set up as he did in the Goshawk; a turbine system fueled by magic fluids. Never actually told me what the fluid came from. The pilot's seat was kind of strange. I would have to lay down on my chest with my front hooves controlling an inclined wheel for steering. It could be tilted up and down for pitch and I would have to lean my body in order to steer it left or right. My back legs will control the acceleration of of the vehicle. Silver Liner, quite the name considering it's dart-like shape.

This thing Flight Gear made, it's decades ahead of what Celestia has. Now I see why she's looking into him for a larger commission.

“Now I know this is all rather brief and it all sounds a bit convoluted. I think the best way for anypony to fly this thing is to pretend you're trying to balance on a pole with your belly.”

“I understand. Is fuel going to be an issue?”

“Flight Gear says that this tiny tank here should last a few months at the least. I'd suggest practicing a few laps around the docks first- low speed of course- to get the hang of things.”

I hopped into the seat and stretched myself out, surprisingly comfortable. “Um, how do you start this thing?”

“Out of all the things, I forget the ignition switch. Hold down both pedals, then hold the button on the wheel until the engine kicks in. It'll jolt a bit.”

I followed his instruction and the machine whirred to life. Noisy beast. The sound beat my chest. Soon enough, I found the machine lifting from the ground.

“Alright, that's good. Shut her down the same way you turned her on.” I did so. “How's it feel?”

I felt my breath stolen from me. “Exhilarating. Strange, really.”

My remark seemed to catch him by surprise. “Most ponies that tried this thing were scared.”

I looked around to see if Celestia was still around. She was, her face was all smiles. “'I'll be taking that letter now, Princess.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I thank you, Letter.”

“Easy now, don't need the public thinking you two are lovers.” Skip interjected. “Princess, I'm sure you've other things to attend to. I'll be seeing this young gent off. I think he's got the hang of it.”

“You're welcome, Princess. I'll be seeing you when I get back.”

I've gotten the hang of Silver now. Skip hoofed me a pair of goggles to wear and recommended that I stuff my scarf and hat for my uniform in my saddlebag. Luckily, Flight had made bars for tying things down.

It's getting close to early noon now. I think I'll be heading off. Flying in the direction of Light Fringe should be easy enough. I wonder what it's like out there. Celestia told me that it shouldn't be too hard to find. Remarking that it's a castle in the middle of the ocean. Interesting.

#28
Fall. Day 18. Late Evening. Eastern Ocean

Not sure how far out I am. This ocean is strange for the most part. It's as if an entire mountain range, continent even, was just dropped into the ocean. When I broke beyond the land of Griffons and reached the Flatwall, all I was met with was this damned ocean. The Flatwall extends forever. It could wrap the world as I know it, twice. Maybe thrice. I felt so miniscule.

I've stopped at what was left of an abandoned town. Nature hadn't been kind to its stonework. It's dock remained partially intact. Lucky for me. I wonder what happened to those who lived here. I would assume that moving elsewhere would be the answer. The noise of Silver still rings in my ears a bit.

The sky is pretty nice tonight. I can almost see Luna's face in the moon. Stars were clearer than they were at home. The ocean breeze is quite a bit different than Clackerton's. The smell of water and salt compared to grass and dirt. I think, I can see a storm in the distance. Further east. I hope it's not there tomorrow. I swear I've seen lightning flash through the ghostly wall a few times. I can't hear it, but I'm frightened, to say the least. I'd rather my journey not end here.

#29
Fall. Day 19. Morning. Eastern Ocean.

I did not sleep very comfortably last night. Nightmare after nightmare of nothing but seeing my home up in fire followed by an unsettling rage. But as soon as I saw the apricot tree, I'd break down and then I would wake up. Strong headaches abound until I got my bearings straight. It's been a long time since I've had a nightmare to shake me up that bad.

The storm in the distance is still there. That's gonna be hard to drive through. Rain stings pretty bad if you're flying through it quickly enough. And now that I look over Silver Liner again, I can relate it to a bicycle, just rather large and built for speed with knife-shaped wings.

I looked to the ruins on the sunken peak. Somehow, they made me think of home, despite their emptiness. For a moment I thought I saw a spark of light, followed by a stream of light finding it's way through a non-existent street. I rubbed my eyes and it vanished.

I ate some breakfast that I had packed from Canterlot. Sitka had packed it out of her own concern. Packed lunch and dinner, too. She was sweet and I'm grateful for her kindness. After I was done eating, I thought I saw that wisp of light again. The ocean's reflection must be messing with my head. Enough delay, let's be off.

#30
Fall. Day 19. Late Afternoon. Light Fringe Kingdom.

That storm was surprisingly easy to get through. All the rain appeared to vanish around me. I wonder if Flight Gear had engineered that. The rain was still pouring when I got to the docks of Light Fringe. The entire place is one massive floating arpeggio cloaked in rain. But it's chained down to giant pillars into the sunken mountains below. Celestia was right, this place isn't that hard to miss. How much land did this kingdom truly hold because my first impression lead me to believe that it had fallen apart long ago. It's walls were even taller. What in the world were they trying to prevent?

I was greeted by unicorn cloaked in cloth, soaked to the bone. “Good afternoon! How may I be of assistance?” I wasn't sure they were expecting me so I announced that I was delivering a letter on behalf of Princess Celestia. “Celestia, you say? We haven't heard that name in years.”

“Years?” It was hard to see any good glimpse of the pony.

“Yea.” He faced the windy rain. “Shoot. Let's get you and your vehicle inside.” He montioned with a flick of magic to another guard on the wall. A small gate opened in the wall and out came a drawbridge, lowered by braided chains. I hopped back on Silver and started her up. The unicorn guided me to something of a stable. “We used to keep drakes here, long time ago. I think they were driven out by the maelstrom.” Sparking a fire with a thatch of hay, he added, “Com'ere. Warm up a bit.”

“How long has the-”

“I don't know. None of us do. Texts don't mention it. The only ponies that'd know are the King and Queen.” Unveiling his head with a swift pull of his hood, a unicorn with a dark complexion all around. Royal purple, gaudy yellow mane and tail and green eyes. His face held the stroke of fire, clouding one eye and the disappearance of an ear. “That machine of yours, rather noisy. What's it called?”

“Silver Liner.” The fire gave off an odd blue glow, but it was warm. “I need to deliver-”

“I know, settle down. Plenty of time. 'Sides, Queen Radiance is a busy gal these days. King went off to the other branches on some business.” I found myself staring into the fire, holding my breath. “Breath, buddy. Good grief.”

“Sorry, I've had a long day.” He laughed at that until he choked on his own breath. “Are you alright?”

“'Long days'. That's somethin' I haven't heard in a while. Let me show you why this place is called Light Fringe.” His magic found the shutters to a nearby window and they fluttered wide. “You see that beam of light out there?”

I had to strain my eyes a bit, it was faint enough. The veil of rain wasn't easy to break. “Yea. That's the eye of the maelstrom?”

“You bet. We look to it for hope. We've sent in a few soldiers to see what's there once or twice. Only to have them return with nothing to say for it.”

“That's unfortunate.”

“Yea. Good lot of us out here have had to deal with broken lives. It's tough but somehow, we make due.” He broke away from the window and sat back beside the fire. “Say, boy. What's your name.”

“Letter Bee, sir.” I felt I owed him at least some respect. Stallion must have been through hundreds of fights.

He placed a hoof over his heart and held his head high, “Name's Royal Rain, son of Black Rain the Third.” Then he pointed at me, “Where ya from?”

“Clackerton.”

“Haven't heard of it. I shall call you Letter of Clackerton, Messenger of Celestia.”

“I hope that's only for introductions.”

“It shall be.”

#31
Fall. Day 19.Evening. Light Fringe Palace

Rain left some of his subordinates to take his place at the gatehouse. Saw his guidance of my trip to the palace something that he needed to do. He told me a great many things about the palace and the city that surrounded it. The palace was grand, more so than the richest mansions in the city. He did point out something about the many statues around and within the palace. Kingfishers, molded from bronze or silver usually placed around fountains or in front of pillars. Recently, ever since the King's leave to the other three kingdoms, the palace has started to fall into a state of disrepair. Apparently it's been several months now since the King had left for something that normally only takes a week or two.

The city kept within the walls of Light Fringe was quite crowded. Could easily fit the castle of Canterlot and its surrounding city three times over. How long has this kingdom been sitting here? Its citizens all seem to carry with them a device which could keep them shielded from the rain and it seemed that there wasn't a single pony that wasn't a unicorn. I noticed the writing that marked the stores was vastly different than that of Equestria. Every building was constructed from stones and plaster plain as could be aside from the stripes of red or blue that marked the arched doorways. Everypony just radiated this discomforting feel of sadness and despair.

We made it to the castle, through a crowd of beggars and protesters. They spoke a different language as well. Royal yelled at them to open up a path, in their language. It was a course language, hard and throaty. It demanded attention. I asked him what they were gathered in front of the palace for.

“They're asking for a new King. They've grown impatient with the Queen. She cannot move the army without his consent nor can she pass new laws without him.” He answered.

The crowd whispered aloud. I wore my uniform. I heard Canterlot mentioned a few times. I suppose a name like that is the same in any language. Some of their voices sounded like they were getting happier.

We climbed a flight of stairs through a straight colonnade and past the wall behind it. What was on the other side was a large courtyard drenched and dead by over-saturation. The kingfisher statues that I saw have been worn down and rounded down. Remnants of what they once were. Some of them were in a more pristine condition but they look as if they'd been crying. I remember the story that mother had told me, a royal couple brought together by their kingfishers. Perhaps it wasn't a fairy tale after all.

We went through hall after hall of nothing but columns and stone guards until we reached the throne room. The curtains had fallen about the windows, torn from rods. Vases and drawers thrown across the floor as if the place had been ransacked. Chandeliers and lamps torn from the walls and ceilings. The king and queen were to sit at the top of a raised platform in this circular room with an ornate rug red and gold stretching from their chairs. The larger one had been knocked over and the disheveled queen sat in the other. She was the only one in there aside from us.

Her coat was a bright white, almost glowed. Same with the rest of her.

“My Queen.” Royal bowed.

She lifted her head, her cheeks stained by the eyeliner she used to wear. I think she's lost more hope than her subjects. “Ah, Captain Royal Rain. I hope you've good news.”

“I bring you Letter Bee of Clackerton, Messenger to Celestia.”

Her voice became more lively, “She finally sends me a message after all these years. That old crone. Let's see what she has to say.”

I pulled the letter out from my bags. It remained untouched by the rain. Pulled the ribbon off and unwound it from its collapsed form. That's when the queen took it from my grasp.

Her eyes scanned through the letter and rather vaguely, her heart dropped. “I can't accept this. We've several times tried to send word to her but our ships have failed and finding a pegasus in this city is hard enough as it is. I can't simply moved my subjects out from this storm.” She set the letter aflame and tossed it. “Royal Rain.”

“Yes, my queen?”

“Find my husband.” She morphed a large key from the air around her and placed it in front of him. “Take this key and go to the vault. You'll find the portals to the other three lands there.”

“But your majesty, you kno-”

“Better I lose one stallion than an army, Royal.”

Royal stood taller than before. “Very well. I shall complete your task.”

“My husband went there to charge the crystals, you'll find them on your own And take this 'messenger' with you.”

#32
Fall. Day 19. Late Evening, Midnight? Vault of Light Fringe.

We dragged the key with us. Royal seemed to already know the way to The Vault. Its path down another set of halls away from the throne room. “You'll have to forgive the Queen. She's not been herself. The King's absence has left her in disarray. Shame you have to get involved with this.”

“It is.”

Soon enough we found our way outside and before a large large set of peaked doors guarded by a tall iron rod fence. Lush gardens flushed outward from its frame and climbed over the walls. The rains were quite a bit lighter here but the winds were still swift.

“Only ever seen this place once, every guard does. Most of us forget the path.”

“Say, Royal, what are the Other Lands?”

Royal hefted up the key and unlocked the gate. They slowly creaked open on their own. “You ever hear the tale of the Kingfisher Couple?” I shook my head, I wanted to confirm if my mother's story was the same. And as it turns out, it was despite Royal's shortened version of it. He added that three of the kingdoms had fallen, not from a war, but from dark magic.“I don't know what we'll come across when we get in The Vault. Every step must be cautious.”

“Does the Queen trust you with this?”

He shrugged just before we pushed the larger doors open. We were met with a blinding flash of light. When our eyes came to, he spoke, “So that's how.”

A small room greeted us with a fountain circled by four doorways in a sea of white. There was no rain, no wind, no whisper of a cloth. Above each door was a small banner with an emblem. One of a golden tree, another of a bear-like creature, crossed spear and axe, and the fourth was the kingfisher.

Above the fountain stood a massive crystal floating rather precariously. I approached the crystal, I could hear a voice. “Come here.” it whispered. Royal seemed to be frozen in time. When I got a step away from the fountain, an immense amount of pain came over me. All my muscles exploded and then the pricking of a thousand needles pecked out my nerves.

I collapsed and my eyes gave way.

#33
Fall. Day 20? Time of Day? Vault of the Four.

I awoke in a fever, cold sweat across my brow. In a panic I tried to look myself over but Royal stopped me. “Easy kid. You'll hurt yourself. What happened?”

My vision was in dissonance. “I'm... I'm not sure, Royal. I just heard a voice. 'Come here.' it said.”

Royal pulled back and glanced at the crystal. “Stay away from the thing, then. Haven't made it to the Other Lands and you're already hurtin'.”

“Sorry.”

“Its quite alright. Feeling well enough to move?”

“Give me a moment. Head feels like its been cracked.” I sluggishly got back on my hooves and something of a stream floated between the doorways. “Are you seeing that?”

“See what now?”

The streams washed away as my dizziness faded. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Which way should we go first? Go for the Axe and Spear first?”

“Thinkin' the same. I'll lead, kid.”

#34
Fall. Day 20? Noon? Land of Axe and Spear.

We stepped through the portal behind the doors and on the other side were the ruins of an military driven castle. Its walls had crumbled and its palace razed to the ground. I looked up to the sky and saw that it was nothing but ocean, sunlight faintly passing through the waves. What kept the water out? Rain and I walked through the front gates which still hung from their hinges, broken as they were. Regardless of everything being either in ruin or outright abandoned, it was clear that the battle that happened here was caused by internal strife.

We made our way to the fallen palace I noticed that a lot of the architecture was nearly identical when compared with Light Fringe. Coming upon the armory just outside the palace, we found a good supply of weapons and shields and almost all of them were broken beyond repair. Royal had his own spear to wield but suggested that we might find something useful anyways. I found an old wand that appeared to come to life the closer I got to it. I grabbed it and put it in my saddlebag.

After our scouring, we continued on to the palace. Parts of the ceiling had fallen down and left skeletal remains of those unfortunate. We followed their trail and eventually came to a door behind the throne. It wasn't anything like The Vault but it was haunting nonetheless. And it was open.

Rain ventured in first and came back out once we knew the room was clear. “I remember this now. This kingdom fell to a rebellion. The citizens became unwieldy and overwhelmed the guard. The Queen who ruled here put an end to it.” We both stared at the crystal that emitted magic of its own. “What we've seen is the result. Queen vanished after that.”

“That's... rather tragic.”

“Looks like this one is already charged, let's head to the one with the tree next.”

#35
Fall. Day 20? Late Afternoon. Land of the Golden Tree.

Rain told me what he knew of the tree here. Said that it was once a lovely place where songs sang and everypony was prosperous in heart and mind. The tree had grown so large that it could protect the entire kingdom from the weather with its golden branches. It was really the only one of the three that they actually had solid information on. What caused the kingdom to become abandoned wasn't in the books though.

But now we know. Something had caused the tree to flay out its roots and consume everything. The town shimmered under the waves, the gold glittered. The roots had formed a straight path to the palace and as we progressed, the worse things got. Trapped within the roots were the frozen faces of terror and pain. Some protected their children. Others stood strong against what consumed them. Many more were outright slaughtered by the trees roots stained by blood. I retched at the sight of that. The tree had been cut down and it came alive.

I remembered a proverb, “Greed is a dangerous fruit. Delicious though it may be, the stomach empties more.”

We passed through the halls of the palace and came upon the throne room. Same as the others. The least they could do is hire a a different architect. The room behind the throne here had its crystal charged as well and so we moved onto the next land: The Land of the Beast.

#36
Fall. Day 20? Evening. Vault of the Four.

We took a break to rest and eat what food I had. I was thankful again, Sitka had packed extra for me. It was good despite its humble looks.

“Letter, you don't have to continue this, you're not fit.” I didn't answer him. The sight of the golden aftermath was still fresh. I couldn't veer my eyes from seeing it every time I blinked. “Go home.”

“No, Rain. I'm not going to run. I don't want to. I'm willing to see this through.”

“Stubborn boy, aren't ya?” He laughed.

We rested a bit before taking the last portal, to the the Land of the Beast. I saw more streams of magic dance around the Vault and swirl themselves around the crystal in there. Rain still didn't pay much mind to them. Maybe he can't see them. What in the world is happening to me?

#37
Fall. Day 21? Early Morning? Land of the Beast

We ventured into there, greeted once more by a large village before the large palisade walls. The city was torn apart and incredibly strong barrier that had fallen apart. Rain told me about this place too. Said that it was a kingdom geared more for defense. The reason why the walls were bolstered and reinforced with latticed rods was because the King who ruled here was afraid of something. Rain didn't know what, though.

The interior wall appeared to have been erected as containment. We carefully walked the abandoned streets, wondering what the large and relatively fresh footsteps in the cobblestone were from. It created path of ruin through homes and flattened many more. There were no bodily remains left in the streets but there were blood stains blackened by time.

As we approached the Palace entrance we could hear the roar of something shake the halls. A step collapsed part of the ceiling above us. Rain saved me from that with his magic, crushing it inward and throwing it behind us. We rushed closer as the roars began to sound more like pain and retaliation. Then there was silence. We stopped.

It was sudden enough. A crash through the wall and another fearful roar. Debris crashing down on us, deflected by Rain's shield. Before the dust even settle the beast charged through to catch something in its gaping maw of a thousand teeth. Seated in rows. It failed at that. Thrown back by a powerful blast of magic.

“Your Majesty, King Radiance!” Rain saluted quickly as his King rose from the fallen dust.

“Captain Royal Rain?” His voice was shaky, exhausted. Legs quaked. Even before he could stand he collapsed on himself. “Help.”

Rain sprinted over and protected him with his shield, I stayed as close as I could. “My King, how well are you?” I realized Rain spoke more clearly to royalty than peasants.

“Enough to trot on a limp. This creature had never been a problem befo-” The King quickly scanned me over, “Who is this you've brought. Civilians should not b-”

“It was by order of the Queen, your majesty.”

“Bloody...” The beast pulled itself up from the hole it charged through. It was a strange mixture of things. The head of a bear, antlers of a stag, legs like a lion, and a tail of a serpent. “Not a time to ramble about that. Lend me your strength, Captain.” The King seemed more laxed than his wife.

“Yes, your majesty.”

So they fought blow by blow with the massive creature. It was easily overwhelmed by the two of them but whatever mat of brown fur was burned away by their magic regrew in an instant. And their magic only served to further enrage the beast. Rain would strike low and King Radiance would strike high. The beast could only swing wildly at this point.

I stood on the sideline, watching it all. A faint humming came into my ears, progressively louder. A glow from my saddlebag caught my eye. The wand and then that ethereal voice again, “Recite the spell.” It felt almost second nature to draw out the wand with a firm grasp. Then the words in my head were not my own. The waves of magic I had seen before came upon me and gathered around the wand. I planted my hooves firmer than my grasp. Then it came again, the pain I had experienced before. I collapsed yet again but remained awake for the ordeal.

A twisting beam of magic poured out from the wand, surrounded by hundreds of little wisps. Struck the creature right in the chest, where the heart should be. A tunnel runs through there now, charred like coal. It fell to that. Kicked up the dust and debris, crushed the throne with its corpse. The wand's glow faded. How did I succeed where they failed? How?

Rain carried me into the Crystal Room, where King Blue Radiance charged it. I wonder how he held such a large pool of magic. He was like the Queen, only blue in place of white. He held onto the wand for me.

Once more to the courtyard and into the Vault of the Four.

#38
Fall. Day 28. Early Morning. Light Fringe Palace.

I've spent about a week out here now, healing my wounds. The magic that had besieged me had caused a fever that kept me well bedridden. I haven't had a nightmare since our return either. The Queen was overjoyed, she should be. She's a brighter pony now, her glow even more so. The King was happy too. They offered to build a statue of Royal Rain and I. I declined as politely as I could. Better a brave knight than a humble messenger, I think.

However, they still wanted me to do one last thing, now that the maelstrom had lightened up. Something only I could do. Take the wand I had and take it to the center. The King had his suspicions ever since we brought it back and discovered that it was connected to one of their ancestors who.

I took the wand and Silver Liner to the maelstrom's eye. Just in case, I left Silver Liner on a small island below and flew up. A beautiful place it was there. Calm surrounded by dissonance. In the sky I could see those wisps again, and a twist in the light. “Come to me, my child. My wonderful child.” they whispered in echoed unison.

I can't quite remember how things went, but I gave the massed magic the wand and it unfolded itself. Shaped itself into an alicorn. Revealed no name, remained silent, and took with it, the maelstrom in a swirling mass unto its horn. “Thank you, my child. The suffering has ended and light reigns once more.” As it turned away, the alicorn was joined by others like her and I could've sworn that she had a kingfisher perched upon her back.

I didn't say anything, I had her thanks and she had mine. That's all that was needed.

I told the King and Queen what had happened. They knew the tale as well as I and they would give Royal the credit for saving the King and bringing the storm to an end. I was fine with that, I didn't need the fame, really. Honestly not one for it.

#39
Fall. Day 30. Evening. Clackerton

Finally home. The trip back seemed a lot shorter than the trip to Light Fringe. I told Celestia what occurred and why I had returned two days later. She appeared to have known about the cause of the maelstrom but she kept her mouth shut. She congratulated me to say the least and sent me back home. I thanked Sitka for the food. She was happy about that. I'm sure anypony would be, honestly.

To be honest, it was exciting traveling somewhere new but the dark history, no thanks. I'm still quite tired from all that. Sometimes I still feel those needles digging at me and I'm still seeing those wisps too. Maybe I'll have to see a doctor about it. After this Welcome Home Party, of course. I'm glad I'm back, but I'll have to leave again.

What the heck am I going to put in my report?

Chapter 3: Ghosts and Storms.

#40
Winter. Day 35. Noon. Clackerton. Home.

Five days now since my return from Light Fringe. I lied a bit in my report to the Office. Stated that I delivered the letter successfully to the Queen and said that my delay was due to the storm that surrounded the kingdom and could only leave when it cleared up. It's the same thing I told my parents and anypony else who asked. I didn't want them to know about the Other Lands and what had happened to me. What I saw and the nightmares I had.

I'm afraid of going out to someplace like that again. I'm not sure who I can talk to about it other than Celestia.

Other than that, first day of winter came around. No snow yet. I hear that tomorrow we should get some. Busy got me a few days extra days off after noticing how tired and ill I started becoming the day after my homecoming party. I've started to feel better after lunch today but my eyes still ache. I think I'll take a bit of a nap for now. Write again when I get up.

#41
Winter. Day 35. Night. Clackerton. Home.

I awoke in a cold sweat again, but good gravy was this nightmare the worst of the bunch. Somehow I can't push it out of my mind and my will to write it down is driving me crazy.

I dozed off with those bloody wisps clouding my vision. I fell into the sea, unable to use my wings. Fire roasted burned feathers and singed fur. Ashes flew upward and turned to white wisps or magic. Then the fire stopped and through the tar-like veil a shapeless being consumed and devoured my entirety. There was no pain. I found myself in a room of white floored with ash. In the distance a pair of large glowing purple eyes beckoned me and was drawn toward them. Ventured into the fog and then again there was that pain I felt before with the touch of ringing ears. I kept going despite that. It whispered garbled words in echo. Through the ash I was thrust through. Back into the fire and out into the rain with my entirety intact.

I turned my head to see Apricot, we'd been gazing at the horizon. Empty and vast. She whispered to me with pale cream eyes, “Remember when we could see the stars?”

I whispered back with a simple, “No.” And again the fire. The fucking fire. It boiled everything.

And with that I sprung awake with only my hind legs half covered. I must've kicked them off in a fit. Strange because I never dreamed of struggling at any point.

#42
Winter. Day 37. Morning. Clackerton. Home.

Doctor came by yesterday, gave me some medicine for the Feather Flu. Said that the changes in environment was bugging my wings. I took those after he left that same morning. After that a strong fever kicked in. It's still lingering but I'm starting to feel a lot better. Hopefully I'll be back to work tomorrow.

Busy told me about a new resident that recently moved in one of the old houses outside of Clackerton's walls. She had added the house to my route as the last stop instead of the fair old mare that lived right next to the entrance of town. The house was considered haunted by many of the younger colts. I remember actually going in there as part of a dare. It was to contest the amount of time somepony would spend in there. The obvious tale was that a ghost was haunting the house because his wife had moved out due to some dispute. He stayed there to wait for her return. So goes the tale.

#43
Winter. Day 38. Afternoon. Clackerton.

The flu that I had seems to gone away for the most part. The aching is still there, in my wings.

I went into work and gathered the letters together that Busy assigned to my route. Bagged them and left. I was greeted with cheer by several addressees. A young mare, my sister's age, was glad that I was well. One stallion gave me a small card wishing me well. The old mare at the last house gave me a tea kettle that I could travel with. Ponies do care for their couriers, I should become more appreciative of that. Maybe Charger was right.

I didn't get a letter from the mayor yet to welcome our new resident. I punched out of work and went their on my own. Apricot joined me, said she saw me from the clock tower. I told her about the house, she reminded me of the time I went in there to save her. How she was afraid to leave because she was so scared. She hid herself away in there because some classmates thought teasing her about her shyness was a good idea. It was after a recess and her missing class that we found out what had happened. She had run off. The teacher didn't notice but the bullies that had chased her away had been snickering the rest of the day.

I asked one of them where she had run off to, they teased me about liking her and at the time I wasn't entirely concerned with that. They told me where she went off to, though. The haunted house and its remnants. I ventured out there and entered the house and found her hiding away on the second floor, crying to herself. She said that I choose a rather cheesy line to say to her at the moment, “I'm here to rescue you.” she mocked humorously.

Aside from that, the house wasn't really haunted so much as it was old and dusty. Rendered the air stuffy though. Cobwebs filled the corners and the old piano that sat in the living room was well out of tune. It was really the only thing left in that old house and Apricot and I were both curious who would be moving into the old house. As far as I could remember, the house was never put up for sale.

#42
Winter. Day 38. Late Evening. Clackerton.

Apricot and I approached the house's rickety old porch. There wasn't a moving van. But there was a caravan and the pony who pulled it wasn't there. We could both hear an old voice echo from inside, as if they were talking to somepony. I knocked on the door and the pony who opened it was, well, a ghost. “Ah, hello there.” its voice echoed quietly.

Apricot jumped back and hid behind me, giving an ear piercing screech followed by the chatter of her teeth. “Letter...”

I remembered Light Fringe for a second. I kindly greeted him, “Hello. I've heard that you're moving in here and I just wanted to let you know I'll be delivering your mail.” I extended my hoof out to shake his.

He chuckled to himself, “Boy, I'm not the one moving in. Well, not the way you're thinking. I'll bring you the real resident. Come inside, I'm sure the cold is bothersome.”

“It is. Come on, Apricot, let's go inside. There's no need to be scared, you see?”

“B-but Letter, it's a ghost and this is that haunted house and-”

“Apricot, haven't I told you before that not everything is scary?”

“Yes, but, he's a ghost...” Apricot trailed off.

She continued to be hesitant, even after we had entered the house and waited for the ghost to bring the owner out. Once she got to know the owner of the house, I think she'd lighten up a bit. The ghost had more of a butler appearance than anything which made me wonder if there was some reasoning behind it.

The ghost came back, inviting us into the living room where he said she would meet us. There was some nice furniture in there. Old Victorian style chairs using the darkest cherry wood and engraved leafs in the armrests that even my father would taken note of. The chairs were a set of four with a matching tea table before them. Apricot sat in the chair next to me. She was still frightened but I managed to calm her down best I could. He left us to fetch the owner again and to prepare tea.

When he came back, he brought with him a young filly with bandages wrapped around her eyes. Her mane had grown rather lengthy as if she had never had it taken care of. Ice blue coat, sky blue mane and tail, a pure purple scarf. She wasn't a unicorn or a pegasus, but somehow she knew our names. “Letter, Apricot. Please don't be frightened or concerned. Apparition here has taken has taken care of me for many years now. I am pleased to meet the both of you. Very pleased.” She was kind and sweet, upright in her speech. “I am Dream Seer. And in spite of my looks, I can assure you I am very old.”

“Why is that?” Apricot blurted out.

“Apricot...”

“Sorry, I'm just a little nervous.” She gently apoligized.

“It's quite alright.” She took a seat in one of the empty chairs without guidance from Apparition. “Apparition, could you fetch the tea, please. I believe it's done.” Apparition did so without a word and as he went into the kitchen, wherever that was, the pot began to whistle. “Now, what I'm going to tell you may be a bit lengthy as I'm not entirely sure how to sum it up in just a few words.”

She told us then, how the place where she came from spent their lives in caverns deep beneath the earth. And her civilization sought and found a large crystal of that stored a vast amount of magical energy embedded in the framework of a building older than what they knew. They lived there happily and aided by the ghosts that the crystal supplied. As servants and guides through the knotted systems of cave and tunnel. But their ghostly companions would be given to a pony that has come of age. A side effect of the crystal however, was that ghosts could only stray so far and that age was well regressed. Slowed incomprehensibly. She said her home had called the creators of the crystals, The Designers, beings who were assumed to have partially achieved immortality. It is said that The Designers were the ghosts that accompanied them on a day-to-day basis.

“When it was time for me to complete the ceremony, The Ghost Rite, our entire civilization collapsed in on itself. The Designers Crystal was assumed all knowing and for some strange reason it had turned our companions against us and placed us in all in eternal slumber. I fled on my own, realizing that The Designers power held no effect on me. Apparition sprung out from my dreams I had that beautiful night and from the ragged clothes I wore crafted this wrap for my eyes.”

“I'm so so sorry that I asked.” Apricot fumbled over her words and moved to give Dream a hug.

“Please, Apricot. I'm fine. All I've been searching for is a cure to the plague. Sometimes I've regretted leaving but I'm leading the way for my ponies.” She sipped her tea that Apparition had brought in while she was telling the story. It was clear what had happened still makes her shake. “I come here whenever I need a break from my travels. No being has ever sought to harm me, I don't know why.” She drank the rest of her tea and placed the tea and its plate down on the table, “Letter. The stars are so beautiful, are they not?”

“They are. I often find myself gazing at them, seeing what constellations I can find.”I glanced over at Apricot. “Apricot joins me sometimes and we'll gaze at them together. Just to watch them move. She's fallen asleep a few times on that balcony. Had to take her home on my back.”

She blushed at that, “Well, it's not my fault I'm such a sleepy head.”

Dream snickered at that. “ You two would make such a great couple. I wouldn't be surprised if your fates were already entwined.”

“We've seen that happen quite a few times, haven't we, Dream?” Apparition interjected.

“Indeed we have. Others were quite a bit further apart.” She poured another cup of tea. Apparition didn't help her with this either. “What I'm getting at, is that the stars are like dreams. They lead us to what we can become. If a star dies, then a dream dies. Some of us are scared of that and therefore, we try to change it. Some may succeed at that, others may not.” She sipped her tea and took a deep breath. “With you, Letter, I could see your dreams from out here. They are vast and endless like the night sky. Many ponies who will take heart with you as you take heart with them. Your feverish nightmare of the shapeless being, is simply a fear and you're unsure of how deeply you'll fall into it.”

I recollected my thoughts on the nightmare and I stared back at her, “The nightmare. It was scary. I can't seem to get it off my mind, either. There were crazier ones but I can't remember them for the life of me.” I found myself shaking, remembering the being with its smoking eyes of purple. What was so frightening about that?

“Letter... they're just dreams. You shouldn't let them get the best of you.” Apricot consoled.

“I know.” I changed the subject back to something a bit more lighthearted, “Anyways, I think we should head home for now. I would rather not miss dinner. It was nice meeting you”

“And you as well.”

I think I'll see her tomorrow, after work of course. I want to know if she had seen more than just the nightmares I had.

#43
Winter. Day 39. Evening. Clackerton. Dream Seer's Home.

I came to Dream's home again, after work. I asked Apparition if I could talk to her alone for a bit. He was a bit hesitant at first but when Dream told him that it was okay, he conceded. She had some more things put up in the living room. A couple photographs of landscapes that were vast and unsettled and another bunch that were of ponies she had met along her journey. One them caught my eyes. A photograph of what appeared to be my mother and father standing beside each other. Mother looked so much younger back then. A vivid streak of blue through her curly honeycomb mane and tail was her most notable trait. He amber coat was shinier then that it is now and her blue eyes have lost some life to them. My father on the other hoof, had a light ample coat, eyes of grinder sparks, and short auburn mane and tail. He hadn't changed much from the photograph aside from some crows feet.

“You knew my parents?”

“Indeed I did. Like you and Apricot, once they met, they couldn't be broken. They had moved here when Clackerton was still young. Just a small trading post in these mountains. Here they've remained.”

“How did you meet them?”

“Rather uninteresting, actually. She sold some honey to me and my appearance didn't seem to bother her. We been good friends ever since but we don't write each other much. She's got a lot of stories to tell. I'm surprised she didn't go by another name.”

“She ever tell about the princess and the kingfisher?”

“A couple times.”

“Well, I think it's real. I was there, behind the walls. In the palace.” The memories came rushing back. The golden wall was as visible as ever.

“Oh my.” I could hear her tea cup clatter against its plate. She was seeing what I was. “Letter, I didn't realize th-” I remembered the dream I had on my way there. “By the Designers Scripture... Letter, there's so much fire, why is there so much fire? Fire and gold. Beasts and war.” I approached her and placed a hoof on her shoulder, she snapped to. “Letter, what you've shown me, they're not just dreams, they're memories. But, some are not your own.” She set her tea down. “Why would you show me this?”

“I wanted to know if you knew anything about Light Fringe Kingdom.”

“The story is true. But your lineage, I cannot say. I can only see dreams. Your mind, however, seems to be confusing the two.”

“Right.”

“Please, do stop by tomorrow. I could perhaps analyze those sinking nightmare of yours further. What you've shown me today has exhausted me.”

“I'll stop by tomorrow then.”

“And Letter,”

“Yes?”

“No. Never mind. It's nothing.”

#44
Winter. Day 40. Evening. Clackerton.

I went to Dream's home yet again and today and well, she explained what the nightmares were about. Somehow, it felt more haunting than ever before.

The first one, of the fires and my subsequent rage, was simply due to my fear of returning home to everything gone to an inferno set by a force unknown.

The second took awhile for her to figure out. She picked at it as I slept, I could feel her pausing the dream and rewinding it at certain times. The eyes represented an overbearing presence and the shapeless was a fear of the unknown. It was the part where I was thrusted back out from it that confused her. As if I were to conquer that force that sought to consume me. Then there was the part where I whispered “No” to Apricot's question. The pale cream color that covered Apricot's eyes were her eyes succumbing to blindness. My answer was because I couldn't remember what they were. The stars, that is. She summed it up as a fear of loss. Of everything that I've known, everything that I've loved.

She had a strong will over magic, despite not being a unicorn. I wonder how she's able to do this. Did blinding her eyes help her see better? I asked her a question about it, she answered that she wore the bandage because her eyes were attuned to darkness more than the light.

She asked if her analysis of my dreams were okay. I told her that they were but it meant that there are some things that just may be inevitable in my future. She told me of a friend of hers that she met in Ponyville, Prudence, who might be able to tell me more about my mother's past. I didn't tell her I met her already.

Before I left, I asked Dream if she had ever found her way back home. “I've forgotten where it is.” She answered solemnly. “All these years I've roamed this continent without a proper road and never have I found it.” She sighed. “Why do you ask?”

“I think I may be able to help with it.”

“How so?” she raised her brows.

“Princess Celestia. After what I pulled in Light Fringe, she owes me one. I'll see if I can convince her to seek out your home. Not sure when I can though because of work.”

“Ask for a package being shipped there. Better yet, I could address one to her and then you'll be the one picking it up.”

“That would work. Be sure to have it labeled as a non-stop package, though.”

“What's Celestia like?”

“Well, she certainly has a majestic air about her. From what I know, she controls the sun.”

“Ah. I think I may have met her before then. When you've lived as long as I, you tend to forget some ponies.” She smiled.

I raised a brow, intrigued, “How long have you lived?”

“Far longer than her, if memory serves correctly. Before Equestria was even established as a country. To be honest, I've grown tired of wandering. I've always wondered what keeps me alive.”

“Think you'll ever find out?”

“Someday, I hope. It's a matter of when.”

“That's true.” I glanced outside, snow had started to fall again, heavy and gust blown. “Suppose I'll head home before the storm gets worse.”

“Goodbye then. May The Designers aid us.”

The Designers. She spoke as if they held the strings to life itself, beyond death even. I suppose Apparition is proof of that. However, I have my suspicions that The Designers may never have wanted their secret to get out. I wonder how wide their influence was. I've certainly never heard of them until now but my want to know more about them was an itchy thought.

#45
Winter. Day 45. Noon. Zecora's Home.

Dream Seer managed to get a package to the post office addressed to Princess Celestia with a bit of help on my part. Thankfully, I was also assigned to deliver it. I left earlier this morning through the blizzard, which had lingered since the night I had offered my help. In all my years here, a blizzard here has never lasted as long as this.

Apricot gave me a coat to wear, a pale green with a paler collar. My uniform hat kept my ears covered well enough and my scarf would help cover my muzzle. Before leaving Clackerton, I asked Dream if had any books about The Designers she spoke so fondly of. She gave me the first volume of three. It's script contained the history of her civilization, how they came upon The Designers Crystal and why they were searching for it. It was more a history book than anything else. Important ponies and historical events that occurred in the caverns up to the just before the incident she escaped from. There were many deaths that occurred before then, they were just as frail as us.

I've stopped at Zecora's home in the Everfree Forest to get out of the aching cold for a bit. The piling snow has brought parts of the canopy down to the ground, causing me to change my route to get there. Zecora welcomed me warmly and she'd already started a fire of her own to keep the cold out. I asked her if she knew how the weather was in Ponyville. She answered that it was just as bad there as it was here. She did, however, point out that towards Canterlot, there was a clearing in the massive clouds.

I remembered the potion she'd given me. I never did drink it. Silver Liner helped me through that maelstrom in Light Fringe. Perhaps it could help me through this blizzard.

Aside from getting straight to Canterlot, I need to remember that I have to stop by Prudence's home first and ask her about my mother. And the ghosts, the ones I saw at Light Fringe. The thought of them kept nagging me. For one, how did giving that alicorn her wand back stop the maelstrom and two, why the shit did it call me their child?

Whatever the case, I just want to know what happened and what is.

#46
Winter. Day 46. Early Evening. Ponyville

The blizzard has begun to lift but good gravy has it hit hard. Half the homes here are near buried in snow except the library in the center of town. Its branches hadn't fared all too well though. Some of them had snapped and hung by fringes of their bark. Ponyville felt as if it had been abandoned but barriers around multiple homes and the hospital on the hill had kept the ground bare.

I made my way to Prudence's home. She let me in from the cold. Her husband was at the train station, where he worked as a receptionist. Her daughter, Tiva, was a nurse at the local hospital and was working overtime due to the blizzard. After she had brought out some tea, I noticed some wisps of magic surrounding her, wisps she wasn't controlling. I didn't bother to question her about it. Instead, I asked her about mother and what she knew.

“I've met your mother, yes and we were good friends. However, your relationship to the royal family of Light Fringe is something I cannot say.”

I stared her down from across the table, “Prudence. Dream Seer told me to find you. You know she wouldn't say that without a good reason.”

The air became still. Concern striking her face. She sighed, “My magic can only see fates and destinies. Not the past and most certainly not memories.”

“Never bothered to try?”

“I have and failed multiple times.”

“Then try it on me.”

Shocked, she asked, “Are you sure about that?” I nodded. “Very well. Place your hoof upon the table.”

She took a deep breath and placed hers upon mine. Her eyes closed as the wisps of magic surrounding her began to spin up around her horn. So this is what I've been seeing. So queer and strange. Being able to see the innate magics surrounding a pony. I wonder, if there's a way to measure it, to record how much one pony can hold or use. And if there was a way to train my sight to block them out. I hadn't been seeing such things until after Light Fringe. Perchance, I'm not the only one.

In my thought, she placed her hoof on mine, gently. I could feel her magic seep into me and play with my mind and dive into my memories. My bones were cold to the marrow and goosebumps sprung from my skin. This was a dangerous game. She knew it well enough. The alicorn was the last thing that flashed across my mind when she withdrew.

“That's as far back as I could see. You gave her a wand?” she raised a brow curiously after rubbing her temples.

“King Radiance said that it was an ancestral heirloom. I found it in the armory of one his sister kingdoms.” I took a moment to find the proper words. “It resonated with me and I picked it up. Used it to defeat a chimera creature of some sort. You saw the rest.”

“And that stopped the maelstrom. I'm not sure what to sure here. Wands are an ancient tool of magic, why an alicorn would need one is beyond me. It's connection with the storm is confounding as well.” She questioned me further about the kingdoms. “May I have another look?” I softly nodded again.

Somehow, this became more about me and less about my mother. Her magic flowed through me again, more easily this time. She dug deeper. I forced my eyes open to see the magic wisps flow from her and into me. Such a strange sight. A cold white river treading through different stones.

She saw the beast of bear and stag, land of golden death, and the decrepit armory. And then the wand. I felt her magic reach out to it and jolt back. “It cannot be touched, not by me. But its craft is familiar. I've studied something similar before.” The flowing wisps had receded back into her. Slaves to their master. Distinctly reminded me of the story behind The Crystal Kingdom. “I'll look into it. As for your bloodline, if you've something of your mother's with you, I can take a look at it. But I can only see as far as she's had it most likely.”

I pulled out an old pocket watch from my saddlebag. She had given this to me when I was younger. Told me then that it was older than her. “Here. She says its older than her. A heirloom, even. Don't lose it, please.”

“I promise I won't.” She smiled. “Give me some time. Objects are harder than a mind, you understand?” I nodded. “Good.”

“Well, I have a package that I must deliver. I'd stay but I must maintain a positive schedule.”

“Understood. Stop by on you way back, then. I'll have something. Also I recommend that you not take the train. The tracks have been out of commission since the blizzard began.”

I went out the door and eased it closed against the crisp and stifling wind. The blizzard had given way to a fair sky now but the distant clouds showed no relieve. Ponyville had become an eye. I continued, worried about the future here.

#47
Winter. Day 46. Midnight. Canterlot

I flew over the tracks to get to Canterlot. It wasn't always clear. A train must've barreled through here at some point. Well before the blizzard got worse. I thought about drinking Zecora's potion, but yet I refrained. Why have I not drank it yet?

Flying to Canterlot was the longer trip, for me at least. Although it's always visible in the distance, today it became a faint shimmer in thin white burlap. Even when I began to get up to the main roads of the castle, the blizzard kept it cloaked. The moon was more visible with its glow behind these clouds. Eventually I grounded myself, to save my fur from wind burn.

I arrived at the gates to a familiar face leaving them. That brilliant yellow mane and white coat. It was Charger. We passed each other without a word. I'm not sure if he recognized me or not. Apricot's jacket may have made that difference. The jacket I was wearing might. The howling wind here could take the breath from you if you're not careful. It seemed odd without Wrecker by his side.

I continued on and made my way into the foyer. Sitka was working the reception desk. She kept herself warm with a robe red and dulled. A contrast to her bright blue-green fur and dark brown mane and tail. She looked like she could sleep there. But she held her eyes open, weary as they were. I approached.

“Evening, Sitka”

She jerked her head up and refocused her eyes. “Oh, evening. You've an appointment?” Her groggy voice mumbled her speech.

“No, I'm here to deliver a letter to the Princess.”

She squinted her eyes, “In this weather you've- Letter! I didn't recognize you at first with that sweater. Go on ahead to the throne room. She hasn't been all too busy with this crazy snowstorm. She could use some company other than her sister, for once and Twilight Sparkle is off somewhere looking for love.”

“Best of luck to her I suppose.” I glanced around the foyer. “Which way was the throne room again?”

“Straight up the stairs behind me. She'll likely provide you a room for the night as well. Blizzard might get worse.”

“Right, thank you. Get some rest, Sitka. You could use it.”

“Thanks, Letter.”

#48
Winter. Day 47. Morning. Canterlot.

The howling blizzard still hasn't let up much since last night. Somehow I'm feeling more worried about Ponyville than my own home. We've grown up used to such weather and its prolonged stays.

I should get on about the letter and rather small package that Dream Seer addressed to Celestia. She was delighted to help out, though she expressed it through voice more than body. Minding her manners I suppose. As for how long it would take, she'd send a letter to her pupil, Twilight Sparkle her assistant. She'd glance through the library and archives here. Her pupil was a bookworm and Celestia has had plenty of time to read on her own. Dream had packaged a small charm along with the letter, opalized wood. Celestia liked it. After that, she had a servant lead me to a chamber I could stay the night in.

Breakfast was nice, but short. I spent the time eating alone in the guest chamber and staring out the window. I'm thinking about telling Celestia about my new ability to see wisps of magic. I'm not really sure who I should tell, to be honest. Maybe she might know or at least point me in the right direction. I think I'll make my own way to the library here, I'm curious to know if there's anything about Light Fringe and its royal lines.

#49
Winter. Day 47. Late Noon. Canterlot.

Well, Celestia managed to find something. A fair bit of information about The Designers and their influence on the world. Aside from the scripture that Dream had given me, the books Celestia found related to their architecture and science. What seemed unanimous was that all of their work had been painstakingly built and then buried. A cursed blessing, perhaps. I had Celestia look over the book that Dream had given me. She cross referenced it with what she had but what connections were there were vague and weak.

“I've come across the tale before and actually finding a Designers work is extremely unheard of.”

“You sound like you found one before.”

“Luna and I have, yes. What we found we used to free Equestria from the reins of evil.”

I took an educated guess, “The Elements of Harmony?”

“Correct. While in six separate pieces, they function as one. My brightest pupil, Princess Twilight Sparkle, holds the strongest one, The Element of Friendship.”

“Nice. Which actually reminds me,” Here goes, “After I got back from Light Fringe, I started seeing these little wisps of magic surrounding certain ponies. Would you happen to know what could cause that?”

“Wisps of magic?” she repeated quietly. “In a casted sense or innate and natural?”

“Innate, I guess.”

“There's something you didn't tell me about Light Fringe, isn't there?”

So I told her about the ghosts of the alicorns I saw and how the one that lead them took a wand from me, which cleared out the maelstrom that cloaked Light Fringe. I even added that it called me “their child” . And then I told her about how I had caught a rather fierce Feather Flu when I got back home.

“I will admit, you do have a sense of royalty.” She said that half jokingly. “And these 'wisps', do you see any around me?”

I stared at her chest for a moment, and slowly counted aloud each of them. “One, two, three,...” kept track of their color in my mind, “ten, eleven, twelve,..” and their size, “forty, forty-one, forty-two...” Until the last one sprung from her form. “One hundred seventy wisps, Celestia. Give or take, may have recounted one or two.” It seemed my mind was training my eyes without notice.

She whispered the number to herself, “One hundred seventy. Seems oddly specific. I don't know if that number would correlate with myself.” She lost herself in thought.

“Celestia?”

“My apologies, Letter. I'll have to consult Twilight on the matter. I'll look through my archives further. If neither turns up a result, then report your findings on it when you can.”

It was a hefty task, I wasn't really sure where to start. As far as I'm concerned there's no specific cause of the wisps. I'm not really sure what to call them either if it comes down to that. “Will do. Still, it's hard to determine what the main cause is.” I glanced at the book Dream had given me. “Well, I need to be heading back home and I'll need that book back, unfortunately.”

“I understand, Letter. I'll let you know what turns up. For both you and Dream.”

“Thank you, Princess Celestia.”

“Before you go, I want you to have this.” She pulled a small jewel out from one of the books. “It is a Parchment Stone. Use it for whenever you need to send me a letter.” It was small as a pebble but white as a pearl. She attached it to the pendant I forgot I wore. “Just say the words: “Dear Princess Celestia” and it should send it to me.” I took a blank page from my journal, scribble something illegible and repeated the words. It worked. Two quick puffs of vanilla colored smoke. “Great! I'll be able to send it back just as easily. Thank you, Letter. I may just have to assign you as the Royal Courier.” Another joke, she enjoyed humoring herself.

“Perhaps.” I played along. “Maybe after I move here or Clackerton falls under your jurisdiction.” Jurisdiction, reminded me a moment about my old friend, Idol. I wonder how he's doing. I hope he's well, I really do.

“Perhaps. Anyways, go on home. I can't keep you here too long.”

“I'll be seeing you some other time then, Princess Celestia.”

#50
Winter. Day 47. Late Evening. Ponyville Library.

I left Canterlot with best regards from both Princess Celestia and Sitka. Trekking through the snow and the howling winds was difficult. It prevented me from taking Silver Liner and flying home. It also took away any chance of flying with my own wings. I'm beginning to wonder when Flight Gear will have those pieces of equipment left for me. It has been quite some time since he had first shown them to me.

I trudged my way through the snowstorm with the wind at my face. I was glad I had brought my goggles for this. Prevented my eyes from watering up. This wind was different than home. It was harsh and unrelenting. Whistled at times akin to a siren screeching. I thought I heard lightning at one point. But no. But I swore I saw the ghosts of the storm coming to taunt me. I'm not sure to say it was instinct that guided me here or if it was the petals that Abner's mother had woven into the chain of my locket. Even then, the faint trail of light I could see may have just been my new eyes leading the way.

When I saw the station against that darkening blanket of salted gray, I ran. I ran despite my exhaustion. The numbness was no factor and the wind's breath stealing gust couldn't keep me now. I was in excitement, to see civilization in after this long walk. I don't know how long I've walked and I could've given into the snow and become buried in it all. Perhaps it was part of my stubborn nature that I kept going. Perhaps it was my fear of losing something important. Somepony, rather.

The train station was abandoned. The snow had found its way inside from the bay. Wind seemed to had forced the doors off their hinges. They were quite aged and they worked well enough. The panes were cleaned and the panels polished well but the small holes went unrepaired.

I made my own way to the front door like a slow burning fuse. It was a bit warmer here and the wind was quieter. It was a relief for the most part. But still, I needed to find other ponies. I felt that if I could, I'd know that the ponies here at least okay. I pressed myself up against the door and it eased open. Ponyville had become almost entirely buried save for a single path that split apart like streams to a river and fed into the hospital. Shields against the storm had ceased. Magic like that could only be maintained for so long.

The storm had lightened up a bit when I left. It has gotten lighter since and my gut tells me that it'll open up more. And vaguely, a large wisp of magic circling at its center. A mass of foam to a whirlpool.

From this rather dystopian scene, I cantered over to the library. The curiosity of my eyes was something I wanted to know soon. Unknown knowledge could eat away at you if you let it. A dangerous thing if it carries. But also disappointing if you're let down by the fact of it. the map I pulled from my first visit here was a good idea after all and I had almost forgotten that I had it in first place.

From outside I could see a candlelight's glow from one of the windows in that large tree. Oak, I think. What pony would be here instead of seeking the comfort of the hospital? The door was left open so I let myself in before easing it shut. The light came from behind a short stack of books and the smell of lilac, faint as it was. Still a refreshing scent. Mother's garden always had a few good batches of the stuff.

“Hello?” I asked. No answer. I moved closer. “Hello?” I peered around the books to the sound of the soft flame upon the wick and the smell of vanilla wax.

A figure there, lying in a dress. Pink, white and gold. Flowing and short and adorned with small ribbons. Hooves in shoes bejeweled with glimmering purple stones. Funny that they'd match the coat of this pony or perhaps coincidence. She dreamed away over an opened book. Her eyes were weary from a long day and her pink and purple streaked indigo of a straight mane had curled and frayed. Had this pony come back from a meeting of sorts, I wondered. For some odd reason I remembered something Celestia remarked about her pupil, Twilight Sparkle, and how she was a bookworm. Quite the way to get introduced to somepony. Especially royalty.

#51
Winter. Day 48. Morning. Ponyville Library.

I nudged Twilight awake last night. She was rather out of it. Perhaps she had used a teleportation spell that left her exhausted after casting it. I helped her to bed. She didn't seem to care who I was. Perhaps the weather was having us ponies work together without a care who was who. I was a bit nervous about it, when she asked me to help her get the dress off. Surprisingly, it wasn't all that difficult. A small button and a zipper and a hook. All hidden under a single seam in the back of the dress. She had taken off the golden shoes herself and in one fluid motion, the dress flopped to floor. The wind seemed even quieter now and vaguely, the light of the moon softly blanketed her from the window. Dull as it was.

“Princess, are you well?” I asked, feeling some chivalrous tone come through. It was clearer

“I'm fine. The dress is a bit heavy sometimes.”

“Ah well. You're certainly not alone in that matter, I think.”

She huffed a breath and smiled, “I suppose you're right. There's a guest bedroom on the other end of the stairs. It may be a bit dusty.”

“I understand, Princess. I'll take my leave then.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

I left her then and heading to the guest room. From what I could see in her eyes, As I said before, I'm not sure if she cared who I was, but I think I'll be seeing more of a reaction out of her after she gets up. It's a matter of when, really.

Aside from waiting on her to crawl out of bed, the window of this room gave a pretty good view of sky and the fountain. The latter being used as a meeting place in town by those trying to clean up the mess. The sky was clear above us at least. That was nice but as my gut was bugging me about earlier, the blizzard still lingered over the forest and well into the mountains of Canterlot. It was just like Light Fringe but on I think, a smaller scale. And Ponyville was in the center of it.

Should I fly up there, I wonder. See what that wisp is about or just wait to see what happens?

Oh, I think she woke up. I think I heard her yawn, rather loud about it.

#52
Winter. Day 48. Noon. Ponyville.

“Princess Twilight?” I called from outside her room, keeping out of sight. “Are you awake?”

“I am awake. I don't believe I caught your name, sir.” A princess calling me sir, that's new.

“Letter Bee. Courier of Clackerton. At your service.” My formal tongue slipped through again. I suppose I have my old friend Idol to thank for it.

She yawned again, “Ah. Celestia sent me a letter about you. Mentioned the something about wisps and The Designers. I think I got something last night, but I must go through the books again to be sure. Let us chat more after a decent breakfast.”

“Very well. I'll be ready when you are.”

While I waited I started thinking about last night. When she had me help her undress. Some stallions would have taken advantage of that. I'm thankful that I didn't. That would've been an extremely terrible idea, for many reasons. One being that Celestia would be pissed and two being that my head would wind up in a handbasket or two. Although, I still wonder why she let me in that close to her. Perhaps I can ask before we delve into what information she found.

“Alright, Letter. I'm all set. Meet me by the door.”

I made my way down the stairs to see her quick purple light flash before the door. Revealing a clearer image than what I could last night. Her eyes seemed brighter now but her light smile hid a melancholy feeling. I opened the door, “After you.” She thanked me and lead the way. She groomed her mane and tail straight and true. A dull sheen came from them. My guessing that she had come back from some royal ball.

I was a quiet walk, excluding the damned wind. We were making our way to the hospital. Recovered food had been stored in the cafeteria, served during the typical periods of the day. The cafeteria was pretty standard. Long folding tables with attached seats that could be rolled around or flushed into the walls. Two lines to get what food you wanted and make your own way to a seat. Twilight told me to take a seat somewhere and wait for her to come back. The lines were both lengthy and I'd probably have to wait longer than it took for her to get ready this morning. Funny.

After a bit, I was approached by a white mare, blue eyes matching their shadow, mane a touch lighter than Twilight's coat and ribboned. “Good morning.”

“Morning, miss.”

“May I?” I nodded and she took a seat across from me. “I saw you walking in with Twilight. Have you a relationship with her?”

“No, I'm already taken by somepony else.”

She eyed me then, I saw a wisp peak from her horn and fire off. But no, my imagination got the better of me then. “Ah, well. Don't go playing with a mare's heart now.”

“My mother has told me plenty about that, I assure you.” I cut into her interrogation. “The name's Letter Bee. Yours?”

“Rarity. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Somehow, she was relieved that I wasn't putting on a show.

We went over this strange introductory ritual I was all too familiar with during my school years. She asked about my home, I asked about hers. Grew up in Ponyville. She asked about family, I about hers. Younger sister, Mother and Father. She asked about my job and I asked about hers. A seamstress at the local boutique. Her speech was a bit more formal than the average pony. Preferring more sophistication than most, more so than Celestia, I think.

And then she asked about the friends I kept. I told her that I've met a lot of ponies, hard to know who is. However I listed Apricot and Idol Find as two that were closest to me. Idol seemed to ring a bell to her. “You know him?”

“Oh do I.” She exclaimed excitedly. “He's such a nice stallion. He's helped out a lot of ponies over in Manehatten. Even helped my sister and I set up a new boutique there as well. He's even been taking care of this young colt at a foster home.”

“Sounds like you've got a thing for him.” I smiled. “Funny, he said he'd write me every once in awhile. Well, I know he'd be alright anyways.” A lie if there ever was one.

It got quiet then. The entire place did. Rather strange. “Pinkie Pie, You're welcome to introduce yourself, dear.”

Pinkie was a quick talker, vibrant in personality as her pink coat and blue eyes. She veered her conversations around parties and references of things unfamiliar and at random. It took my mind a moment to keep up with her speedy mouth, until I took my hooves and clamped her muzzle shut. “Pinkie, I understand your excitement, but please do settle down a bit.” She agreed with a muffle. When I let go, she took a seat next to Rarity. “The name is Letter Bee. And if I caught it right, Pinkie Pie?”

“Yes!”

Twilight came back with food for the both of us then. “I see you met two of my best friends. Rarity, Pinkie.” She glanced at both of them before sitting down beside me.

“How was the ball, Darling?” Rarity politely asked.

“Terrible.” Twilight groaned.

She went on about how grand it was but strongly remarked about how rude some of the other guests were. Rarity shared her agreement with that. Especially the ones that approached her to dance. She would play along until she managed to pull away. Then moaned about her aching legs before speaking about the letter Celestia sent to her. “Sheer coincidence I would run into Letter not too long after I got back here. You're kinder than any of those stallions.”

I hid my face in a glass of milk then. Compliments always made me a bit shy. “Oh, what's this? Letter's being shy, how cute.” Rarity teased. My cheeks blushed up more. Pinkie giggled at that just as Rarity did.

“Girls, come on now.” Twilight interjected. “Rarity, how has Spike been?”

“Quite well, actually. The darling has been oh so very helpful with my designs.”

The rest of breakfast was a blur after that. Wound up meeting Twilight's other best friends as well. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. Seems they've all made names for themselves around here. Fluttershy cared for animals of all sorts, timid as she was. Dash was the lazy one, but loyal nonetheless. Applejack was an honest farmer of the local apple orchard.

Twilight and I headed back into the library. Her friends went their own ways to help with cleaning up the snow. It had stopped, but that doesn't mean that it hasn't caused damage. The roofs of several homes had collapsed and smaller ones had the peaks of their roofs or chimneys peaking through. Before we went into the library, I found myself staring into the open sky, just thinking of the reason behind the storm. It still reigned everywhere beyond Ponyville. Twilight called me to come inside, then. I hadn't realized I was shivering from the cold.

#53
Winter. Day 48. Late Evening. Ponyville Hospital.

Last night, like Light Fringe, I saved Ponyville. Now I'm in the hospital for it this time though. It had cause some terrible fever and my wings, well, they've gotten much larger. Larger than Celestia's I think. Rather sore too. Anyways, to go over what happened.

After getting back to the library, Twilight and I went through the dozen or so books she had on the wisps issue and then we delved deeper into the issue of The Designers. The ability to see wisps appeared to be well documented but the cause was elusive. However, it was noted that most of the ponies who had the issue were members of royalty reigning from certain areas, mostly Light Fringe and Topazi Lazulia. A place further that stood at the north end of the Flatwall Cliffs. Some theorized that it occurred as a gift from some ethereal power unseen or something related to a pony's blood. Some shunned it, thinking it a curse that slowly drained one's sight. Although it was well documented, it was still incredibly rare.

Perhaps Celestia was right in her jokes. Perhaps mother was right about our bloodline. Why then, did we live out in Clackerton? I'll have to ask her once I finally get back home.

The Designers, on the other hoof, were a bit more elusive. History of their culture was limited to the few discoveries of their relics and written script, which dumbfounded archeologists. Even the volume that Dream let me borrow didn't hold much information. As it more about the history of her ponies than The Designers. I told Twilight about it, figuring that it would help. But no.

Taking a guess, I flipped over to the last pages of the volume. There sat the scripture of The Designers. A short chapter's worth, at least. Every individual word was written vertically and connected by a left standing line. Each character angled upward from it and hashed with either a specifically placed hashes or semicircles. Only two had a full circle in them. Unfortunately, these eyes couldn't translate such scripture, as convenient as that would be. Twilight plucked the letters from the page and tried to decipher them herself, no avail there either. The last page of the script was different from the rest though. Boxes surrounded the words, side by side. Two lines placed at the top and bottom. The writing was the same but appeared a lot more shorthanded. Some sort of hierarchy as well, from the looks of it.

Then I recalled written magic. “Twilight. Does this seem like written magic to you?”

She eyed it over, squinting hard before pulling away from the page. “You could be right. Magic spells can be written out. You just need the right words. A proper key. I'll give it a shot.” She mouthed the words quickly to remember them. I saw nearly a dozen wisps dance around her then and pushed down upon the page. An orb of light spewed out from the book. “Well, that seems to have done something.”

The orb faded then. Apparently unable to sustain itself. That gave me a crazy idea. I flipped to the last page of the spells. The entire page was a single spell. “Let's try this one.” She fired again. A blast of light came out from the book. Blinding us both for a few seconds. There was a faint ghost then, looking similar to Apparition. It trotted outside, leaving a trail of sparkling green mist. “Twilight, are you seeing what I am?”

“No. What are you seeing?”

“A fine mist of green. A ghost leading outside. Stay here.” Twilight moved to object but understood.

I followed the trail out, then up into the sky. I flew up until Ponyville was nothing but the dots of roofs and a hospital. “My child.” That voice again. The alicorn came forward once more, but only her head peaked from the giant wisp that rested up here. “You've freed one of my children. In doing this, I shal-”

I cut her off. “I've got questions for you, you know.”

“Speak, then.”

“Why do you keep calling me 'your child'? Why did that wand I give you get rid of the storm? And the what's with the wisps?”

“Everypony is my child. The other questions are beyond me.”

“Beyond you? That sounds like a load of crap.”

“It is not. They are answers you must discover on your own. The wisps are no gift of mine, either.

I sighed, dissatisfied. “Very well. Excuse my rudeness then. As you were saying?”

“I grant you two gifts, for both the wand and my son. You'll find out what they are soon enough.” Her magic lit up and encased me. My vision turned white. Then black. I lost my consciousness then too.

Twilight said that she watched from below. Said the clouds all vanished, puffed away by magic far beyond her own. She saw me fall, flew to my rescue. I forgot that she too, was an alicorn. Maybe I didn't care that she was. Said I that my wings bled from the joints. Her coat is still stained, don't think she bothered to clean up after taking me here. The doctor had to make new splints to accommodate the size.

Twilight, despite our short time together, was incredibly worried over my well being. I think I tell her in the morning what happened. I think its been a long night for us both. I'll have to figure out where the heck I can get those questions answered. Prudence may be able to help with that. I need to visit her anyways. Gotta get my mother's pocket watch back from her after all.

Chapter 4: Books of Creation

#54
Winter. Day 49. Morning. Ponyville Hospital.

Twilight stayed at my bedside for the rest of the night. I thought I lost my mind a few times. I kept seeing everything warp and bend, contort into unbelievable shapes. Hallucinations of fire and melting skin kept me well awake. I panicked at the fire, confused at the skin. Thankfully, Twilight was there to help me snap out of it. Something festered my fears. Towering infernos, why was I scared of those?

After some time, the hallucinations subsided. My eyes became clear again. Some gifts that ghost gave me. Maybe it was the pain. I don't know. All I know now is how heavy my head is.

#55
Winter. Day 50. Morning. Ponyville Hospital.

Pinkie Pie was a bit upset at the fact that I had turned up injured not too long after we met. She wanted to throw this huge party to welcome me. Told her that I'd probably be here for a couple days. No idea when I'd be discharged though. She brought in a ton of balloons anyways. That irritated Twilight but she was rather used to her antics from the looks of it. Rarity felt sorry for my condition, Applejack was the same in that regard. Dash wanted to teach me how to fly with my new wings. Fluttershy said she wanted to bring in a rabbit or some other small critter to help comfort me. Which reminded me that I was considering adopting an animal of some sort to accompany me during express trips.

It was then I met Spike too. The faithful assistant of Twilight Sparkle. Small purple dragon with green dorsal fins and underbelly. Eyes too. Hard worker he is too.

I asked Twilight to bring the book that got me here. Some part of me wanted to look over those last few pages again.

#56
Winter. Day 51. Morning. Ponyville Hospital.

After Twilight gave me the book last night, I began to look over the scripted pages again. The words began to ring in my head. I wrote out the Equestrian alphabet, then scanned over and wrote out The Designer's script. A set of twenty-six letters, three marks for punctuation, two marks to denote for holding a vowel or a silent letter. When I finally got through that, I translated the pages in their entirety. I couldn't stop, as if my hoof was forced into the writing. Until the last letter was written and punctuated, I wasn't sure what I was doing.

Twilight asked me how. My mind was so enthralled by the translating that I'm not even sure what I answered.

I looked over what I had written. All of it was poetic, except the spells. They had a hierarchy. I hadn't translated those yet. But first the two poems, which are more like one piece.

I.

And he descended

from the Sky

And She from rising

From the Abyss

The world born

By their children

of Fire and Water

Then Earth and Wind

II.

Earth and Wind

Fire and Water

Abyss and Sky

Three kinds to become

In their names

Shrines and Temples.

upon Life and Death

cast to and fro

That's where it ended. A creation myth of their own from the looks of it. I gave Twilight my notes so she could translate the spells on her own. The hours it took me to translate the poem and the alphabet wore my mind out.

#57
Winter. Day 52. Morning. Ponyville Hospital.

I slept for a good portion of the day after I got the script translated. I finally managed to get back on my hooves again. The doctor took the splints off my wings and bandaged them up. Got a nice look out the window. Seems like they're having fun with the snow at least. Snow forts, statues, and igloos are all over the place. It was nice knowing that they're enjoying themselves at least. Quite of bit of it was cleaned up already.

Doctor told me that I would be discharged later tonight. I just hope the hallucinations don't relapse any time soon. Better yet, never. They felt real enough as they were. I would like to get back home soon. I'm sure Apricot and my family are worried about me.

#58
Winter. Day 53. Morning. Ponyville Library.

Twilight manged to translate the spells that followed after the poems. They were all pretty simple spells, except the last. The last was a spell of guidance. That made some sense, but didn't fit with what that alicorn said. I really ought to get her name next time. I've a good feeling that we'll meet again.

I got a letter from Celestia after I was done packing my things. Said she found something about The Designers culture in an unlabeled book and her best wishes about my condition. Twilight sent a copy of my translations to her and my thanks.

Aside from that, Pinkie was able to throw that party she wanted for me. Surprised me when I got back to the library. It was fun and for the time I had forgotten what happened to me and the troubles that were abound. I enjoyed the company of the almost the entire town welcoming and introducing themselves. Prudence stopped by as well, gave me my mother's pocket watch back. She couldn't open it or cast any spells on it. Even tried breaking the spell on it as well. Nothing seemed to work. I assured her that it was alright and that I would ask my mother about it.

At another point, I managed to ask Fluttershy about adopting one of the animals that she had. I was thinking about either an eagle or an owl. She was all for it, rather excited about it as well. Despite the fact that it was on such short notice but she was okay with that. Said she had the perfect candidate too, which made me all the more curious. Told her I would be stopping by before I left today.

#59
Winter. Day 53. Late Evening. Clackerton. Home.

Finally back home from Ponyville. Managed to sneak into the house but no pony was home anyways. All well and fine really but I would've at least would've like to have somepony to greet me. I wonder where my family's at.

As I said before, I was going to stop by Fluttershy's house before I left Ponyville, which I did. She presented me with an eagle that couldn't have been more than a few months old but he was kind of heavy as he was. Only being the size of your average saddlebag. He could fit in mine pretty comfortably, seemed to enjoy it as well. Enjoyed my company too. Fluttershy mentioned that it had been awhile since she had seen any animal display such a quick connection with their owner.

The eagle Fluttershy gave me was mostly brown, gold streaks dashed just about everywhere. Pretty close to a Golden Eagle, but Flutters said that it wasn't the same species. A close cousin perhaps. I asked her how she it wound up in her hooves. Said that she found it lying by a bush with an injured foot. Took care of it and he stuck around. Always seemed like he was waiting for somepony, guess we know who now.

Fluttershy reminded me a lot of Apricot and somehow we wound up talking a bit more about her than my new pet. Fluttershy seemed to enjoy the fact that there was somepony just as shy as her, having a love for animals. The only real difference between the two of them is that Apricot didn't really have a whole lot of pony friends. Don't think I've ever bothered to ask, I should. I wonder what friends she has, if any.

After I left Fluttershy's, I ventured through Everfree again. I've almost memorized the path by now. But, not to my surprise, Zecora still lead the way for me. She seemed faithful in that regard but it was strange too, how she knew. I didn't let it bother me too much.

The blizzard had covered the canopies well here, turned the forest into a web of tunnels. A torch wouldn't be the best idea in a place like this. I remembered the words to the activation spell that Twilight had used, she taught me those, when we studied the books further. Used it on the first spell we had casted and this time, the orb of light stayed and bound itself to the book. Zecora was surprised. Don't think she's ever seen magic of this kind used before. Her potion magic is something else, I believe.

The forest felt thicker than before, maybe it was because of the snow. But the air was incredibly still. Can't remember the last time it was. Wherever I've gone it's been windy, not complaining though.

I made it back home on my own, I wanted to stop by Dream's house but it was snowed in. I hope she's okay at least. In the mean time I suppose I'll take to making my own copy of the spells. They'd be useful should I ever need to use them. That's what I've been spending most of my night doing. The fact that my family hasn't come yet has gotten me worried. They're usually home this time of night. I wonder if they took to Flight Gear's workshop as shelter. That place was far better heated than our home. More space as well, considering that ship he has docked underground there.

#60
Winter. Day 54. Noon. Clackerton.

Woke up to a nightmare I can't remember. Slept in pretty late too. I'm just glad it wasn't one of those hallucinations I saw before. Those circumstances are different. My family still hasn't come back. Guess I'll have to look for them on my own.

#61
Winter. Day 54. Evening. Clackerton

Found my family. My guess of them being in Flight Gear's workshop was right. I was surprised that a good portion of Clackerton decided to take shelter here as well. Thankfully, it wasn't to the point of overcrowding. Flight told me that the other halves of tow took to some of the industrial buildings for shelter. Some still remained in their homes. The guard had told residents to stay where they are so that they could get the streets cleared up.

The streets look like they've been cleared for awhile when I got to Flight Gear's. It was kind of an odd timing though, that the guard would sow up and tell us that they were after I arrived. Everypony went back home in a rather orderly fashion. Figured they'd just run for the door.

I met my family then as well. They waited until the line died down. I saw Apricot and her family was with them as well. I greeted them from the top of the stairwell which overlooked Flight's ship, The Goshawk. We met halfway.

Mother was the happiest, tears rolling from her eyes. “Letter, I knew you'd find your way back.”

“I wasn't alone, Mom. I had some help from some friends in Po-”

“Oh my goodness! What happened to your wings!? Did you get in a fight?”

“Mom.”

“They look larger than before.”

“Mom...” I looked to father, he was amused. But his eyes held worry too. Busy, I think was just being patient for an answer.

“Let's get these bandages -”

“Mom!” She jolted back. “Give me a second, would you?” she settled down a bit. I had never been that strong in my tone to her, I didn't like it either. “It's a bit of story.” Then I explained, fully and truthfully the extent of what happened. Dream's favor, The Designers, meeting Celestia, the trip through the snowstorm, Ponyville, and ultimately, the ghost of an alicorn that pretty much gave me my new wings. Told her about my new pet too, she wasn't the happiest with it. More so because of its suddenness. The rest of the story my family took rather well. Apricot and her family listened in as well. I felt like they should know what happened. I didn't say anything about the hallucinations, though. I didn't want to think of those.

All of it ended in a group hug, it didn't hurt my wings but they were still sore. Everypony was happy that I returned despite my condition. I was happy too. I would like for it to stay this way.

We had a large dinner at Flight Gear's before heading home. His decommissioned ship was useful for such a thing. It was enjoyable nonetheless. I had brought my new pet along, he had been sleeping in my saddlebags. Woke him and he flew around the hangar for a bit before perching on the framework where the air bladders once were. He enjoyed the excitement of the dinner as well. Began to remind me of the party Pinkie threw for me, but with family and close friends.

#62
Winter. Day 61. Evening. Clackerton. Dream Seer's Home.

Its been awhile since my last journal entry. The last five days I've spent working overtime getting deliveries out to their proper places. Studying and flight practice are two more.

The snowstorm had caused a back up in trade and mail services. Local businesses got slammed and some of the restaurants had to throw out some of their raw foods that would get served to more carnivorous visitors. Majority of them were griffins, but still they were few.

Studying and translating the second volume of The Designers has been quite the hoof full. Firstly though, before I got into it, I told Dream the poem at the end of the first volume. She was familiar with it. Having heard it through the select few who were able to decipher the script. However, time has left her memory hazy on a great matter of things. For all I know she could be outliving Celestia. Certainly been around longer than Clackerton.

That's beside the point here. The second volume contained more scripture that hadn't been translated. Dream said that they were slowly working on it. Organizing it was difficult as each line of the script easily nudged into the one above. Guess they were apt to use what space they had. It wasn't long before I took to her study and kept the notes posted all over the walls, ordering them by passage and page, spell hierarchies, and copies of the original script. Felt I'd gone mad. A good lot of the information seemed more like ramblings from whoever wrote the trite.

There were at least, page breaks to separate different topics. Those were titled and whatever followed was generally a study of that topic. The first book is of creation and some basic spells. Second consists of what could be considered research is the loosest sense of the term. I've yet to get to the poems, if any. Dream and Apparition both seemed confused by the matter. I hope to have the rest translated by tomorrow night so I can fire off some information to Celestia and by extension, Twilight. They haven't sent me much information other than what archeologists have dug up. Recovered scripture was generally unreadable, legibility lost to erosion. There were only three locations that had been dug up. None of them fitting the description of Dream's home. Not a dead end though, but maybe I'm just being optimistic.

#63
Winter. Day 61-62. Midnight-Before Dawn. Clackerton. Dream Seer's Home.

I stayed up far later than I wanted to. Translating the pages was compelling enough for me to lose track of time and work by candlelight well after the moon rose and the sun set. I finished the last page catching my breath. The cold seeped through these old wooden panels. Writing was beginning to feel like a chore and when I finished that last page, that last character, and its final piece of punctuation, I was relieved. But no. I wasn't done yet. I still needed to copy again, all of this, send it off to Celestia so she could know my progress. I could've slept then. Instead, I willed my eyes to read the words of every named passage from the pages. It was beginning to feel like second nature at this point. An entire page would become readable within a few flicks of a quill.

I rewrote the pages. Took them down from the walls one at a time and copied everything. Word for word. No comma missed, no page number unmarked. I've felt myself drift away a few times. Sweet Luna to take my mind away into rest. I'll give when I'm done, Princess.

As the pages stand right now, they're more a set of research notes. They needed a proper order. I hope to solve that as well. I titled each page, a good thirty or so, with their relative subjects using note cards. Pinned them to the wall. A few with short knives. I've laid myself out in the center and just stared. Primal, light, dark, arcane, elemental, para-elemental, creation and life, and lastly, mind. Every page wrote about what was possible for each, what each controlled, and how to control them. Then there was a portion that was vastly unfamiliar to me, circuitry. From the text, “A way to connect oneself to their environment by use of embedded works.” Embedded works. The hay?

The poem will wait till the next entry. I've had my fun for tonight, Princess.

#64
Winter. Day 62. Evening. Clackerton.

Woke up this morning to the warmth of a blanket and a fire. Dream had Apparition move me to the hearth of the home, a fire in the nook of stonework. Slate and granite. Red, black, blue, and gray in clouds or streaks. Clean cut and polished slate squared off the mantle. A trifold meshed gate with flourished ironwork kept lit ashes away from the old and frayed floral rug. Phoenix Flowers. Mother kept a few of these in her garden, water is all they need no matter the state. So long as they've been planted. Always thought they smelled nice, too.

So did breakfast.

I went back into the study, gathering the notes I copied. Rewrote what were mere scribbles and proceeded to sort and send the work off to Celestia. I placed my necklace, with its locket and faded flower petals on the table before the window. A nice view of the road leading into town. Checked again to make sure the pages were in order, they were. I looked over the poem again. Less a creation myth this time around, more of a mythological hero.

III.

Birthright and death rights

to live with Sky and Wind

to live with Fire and Earth

or thrown with Abyss

Thus, separation of coils

frail or young

blessings and curses

to live it all

in Spite

IV.

When the mortal pony grasped

All their hooves

From the mountain's peak

He took from them

Lust and Greed

Obscurity befell him

As before, until passing.

Tossed aside Heart

and Passion

Without them

Everything wandered

Still doesn't explain much. There's no connection between the pages of scripture and the poem. I'm beginning to feel as if these were added in after the fact. Nudged in at the end to confuse whomsoever found the books. Regardless, I sent copies of both the pages and the poem to Celestia. I hope that Twilight gets them as well. The papers went up in a flash of light and a short green fire. Wasn't too long after that I received a letter back saying she received them.

After I did that, I went to eat my part of breakfast. I thanked Dream for allowing me to use her study and for the food. I told her I would be back to translate the last volume unless something turns up at work. I thanked Apparition too, as he had made breakfast and would read what I had translated to Dream. Maybe she could tell me something. Honestly, all that translating has got me worn out.

I trotted my way through the snow, after leaving Dream's home, to get back to my own. My wings are almost healed now. Although I had done some flight practice it has been minimal and rehabilitation. Flight Gear gave me some simple pointers while he reworked the equipment he wanted to give me. I wonder, will he ever finish it? I kept my wings wrapped in bandage, to play safe. Busy was starting to wonder if I would always return home injured. I joked, “Maybe.”

I brought myself home, getting there while lost in my thought. I came in to see mother lying on the couch, ill again. Dry heaving and shaky hooves, tucked under our thickest quilt. I came to her side then, she spoke to me, “Letter, you look like you've lost some sleep.”

“I could say the same for you, mom.” I took the hoofrest from the chair it sat in front of.

“You could say that.” she chuckled. “Tell me, how have those translations of yours been going?” I told her the poem, by each part, flipping through the pages of my journal. She wasn't surprised that I had been keeping one. Kept her gaze at the ceiling as she listened. “Sounds like the tale of a tragic hero.”

“Could be. I've finished the other parts as well. Most of it is practically the study of different levels of magic. Like research notes. Still, there's something confusing about the whole lot.”

“Oh?”

“I don't know. I may just be over thinking it. You know I've done it before.”

“Specially with your math homework Busy always had to help you. I always thought it cute.”

“Not an academic like her, mom. Was better than her in my writing classes.” I smirked.

She laughed at that. “You told me there were three volumes, right?” I nodded, “Go into your father's study and grab the lockbox on the top shelf. Grab my pocket watch too. You'll need it.”

I did so. Weaving through the hall to the study, tucked away from the rest of the house. It had been a long time since I've been in here. First time out of curiosity. I remember the desk being covered in shavings of wood and a mess of nails and glue. Now it was cleaned and dusty. A couple things moved from their original positions. Guess he tried to get back here when he could. Cobwebs and spiders found their way into the corners here.

I ignored the dust and grabbed a stool, pulled it close to the shelves just beside the door. It was the only set in the room. All the books hadn't been moved and the majority of them lacked proper titles. Father used masking tape and relabeled them though, poor as his writing looked. He had old blueprints raveled up in here as well it seems. Placed in separate slots in a net of woodwork for the work desk. I wonder what it is that father wouldn't allow my sister and I in here for. The lockbox, perhaps?

One leg up, followed by another. Keep my body balanced, now. There, the lockbox. Uncleaned, unmoved, and its gold feet stuck to the board. A bit of nudging got it loose. Would you imagine, a moment, that feeling of pulling something a mystery to you and bringing out from web in which it lay? Gold feet, strung from the corners, worked into the four iron locks on each side. On each, the engravings of the bear creature, spear and axe, tree, and the kingfisher. Rough black cloth under that. Throughout it a flourish of faded green leaves of different trees. With a little work, the box could have its luster once more.

Oddly, mother had left her pocket watch lying on the desk. I grabbed that too and left the study. Easing the creaky old door shut behind me. I gave the two things to mother after she moved into a more upright position. Placed the lockbox on coffee table and then opened the pocket watch. I remembered then, what Prudence said about it, that it was protected by magic. I see now that it was to protect it from magic. Purpose behind that is still unclear. Mother wouldn't have done it without a purpose.

She pulled some pins from her mane and locked them together to form an unusual key. More like a coin. She formed it in different pattern for each lock. Each turn forcing a rod of iron outward from the frame and when the last one was turned, she grabbed the pocket watch and recited a single word in another language. A flurry of colorful magic reached out in many arms and clasped a firm grip around the lock box. Forced it open and reached inside, pulling out a book that didn't look like it would've fit in the first place. The arms forced the book onto my lap and retreated back into the pocket watch.

“Go ahead. Open it.”

I traced my hoof along the cover and the emboldened text of The Designers script. I translated the words in my head and mouthed them aloud, “The Great Deities.” My hooves took to shaking lightly as my eyes widened, “Mom, what is this?”

“Open it first, Letter.” So I did. My eyes captured a short page of dedication to somepony. The writing, was familiar, its style. The way the quill met the page. I looked back at her without a word. “I wrote that, Letter.”

“What? How? How do you even know the script? Celestia even says tha-”

“Hush now, Letter. As you read through this you'll learn a great deal. Promise me that you won't lose it. Don't tell anyone either, okay?”

“I promise, mom.”

#65
Winter. Day 63. Noon. Clackerton

I've already begun to translate some portions of what mother had written in that book of hers. I think I'll be making an entry of it when everything's done. So far it's been nothing but character sheets of each one of the main forces from the poem. I guess they could be personifications of the natural elements. It already seems like there's some hierarchy if memory serves me right. The only thing that has me confused is her pocket watch and its relation to her book and the lockbox. She said the answers would be in this book. I've no reason to doubt her, she's never lied. Doesn't mean she hasn't kept secrets though.

I think I'll be taking a break from translating the both the third volume and mother's book. It's all been rattling my head like a bucket of bolts. At least until it stops. For now, I'm focusing on a more important matter.

Tonight I intend to take Apricot out on a nice date, I should at least fix up my mane and tail for once. In fact, should do it more often. I'll probably keep to a bowtie and a collar. For some reason, I'm a bit nervous about it. Despite having known each other a few days before I was strung up by those drunken guards, I think she's gotten to know me more than I know her. Sure I know that she's the only child in her family and her parents all have a good bond with one another. Still, she's just as shy as the day I first met her. However, that only seems to be when she meets new ponies now.

I told her I'd meet her before the sun went down. So I've sent my eagle out to message her that I was getting ready for our date. I've yet to come up with a name for that bird. I'll need to get something for my back for when he gets too large for my saddlebags. I hope my eagle makes a quick return from Apricot. I find it strange that it could understand the two of us so well, but I didn't want to put much thought behind the matter either.

#66
Winter. Day 64. Early Morning. Clackerton Woods.

Well, the date went well. For the both of us. I've never seen Apricot dress up so nicely before. She wore a dull purple dress sleek in nature. Adorned with a single blue lily centering her collar. Buttoned once in the front and tied up by a small blue ribbon in the back. Sleeves were loose but tightened just above her hooves. She tightened up her long mane into a bun and a braided ponytail. Something I hadn't seen her do before. She even put on some apple green eyeshadow. Gorgeous.

Honestly, when I went to pick her up, I thought I could've done much more. Certainly left my jaw agape for a bit. She was concerned that she overdid that she overdid it. Her mother had helped out a bit, which made me remember that she was a local fashion designer. Which in turn made me think of Rarity. But that's beside the point here.

I was taken aghast at her appearance. She blushed about it, more so when I flattered her.

I took her to a restaurant that had made itself well known around here, The Running Snipe. So called because of the owner's love of the small birds. My father used stone and complex woodwork to help build the place, making it more of a lodge than a restaurant. I had saved up a couple weeks worth of pay to reserve a table for two and for its rather pricey food. Which in itself, looked the same as any other meal. But the quality was so much better than your average homemade meal.

It was an awkward silence between the two of us at first. The slow jazz from the live band on the upper floor and the whispered chattering of other tables filled the air. A server came by, gave us menus and time to order. The special was a new concoction their top chef whipped up. Some weird mix of pasta and salad using alfredo sauce and iceberg lettuce as its main parts. I ordered it while Apricot went some apple fritter meal of sorts. We both took water to drink. They came out on large plates and in small portions.

“So, how are your new wings working out?” she asked.

“Pretty well. I've kept them wrapped though. Haven't gotten used to their size quite yet.” There wasn't much need for us to be silent between one another. I guess being more formal was a bit more nerve racking. I remembered her work as a jewel crafter. “How's your jewel crafting working out?”

“Pretty well I suppose. Nothing much recently. Ran out of stones. So I've been making bands that can have some socketed later.” She played with the spillings of the caramelized apple slices using the prongs of a fork, rather ornate silver itself. “So that story about Ponyville, who was the princess you met?”

“Twilight Sparkle. Why?” I chewed some lettuce.

“Just couldn't remember her name. What were the six of them like?”

Swallowed the lettuce then. I thought a moment, pulling each one from memory. Told her about Pinkie Pie, the lighthearted one of the bunch. Always liked to party and make you smile. Rainbow Dash seemed like she'd be a hoof full to deal with. Her determination in anything competitive was her strong suit. Twilight was a bookworm, kept her nose in a book when she could. Rarity was a fashion designer, like Apricot's mother, generous in her help. Applejack was the hard worker of the bunch, having grown up on the family apple orchard.

“And well, Fluttershy, she's a lot like you. Shy, timid. However, I think that's as far as that goes. She takes care of animals where you make jewelry.”

“Really? I would like to meet them sometime.”

I smiled, “I think they'd like to meet you too. Fluttershy especially.”

“By the way, that whole translation thing. How's that going?”

“Pretty well, I think. I've got the second volume done. Taking a break, though.”

“Ah. Anything interesting?”

“Not much. Good portion of it seems like pointless rambling.” I frowned. “But it's all given me a better understanding of how more ancient races understood the world. Did we ever go over The Designers when we were in school?”

“Don't believe so. You said it yourself, that there's not much about them.”

“Not enough to do valid research, perhaps. Guess I'll wind up taking credit for some of this. I've no clue how I was able to do this though. It's confounding, to say the least.”

“Well, honey, don't bother with it too much now.” Honey, that's a first, but it felt right. “I'm sure you'll find the reason. You always do.”

I thought about my mother, some strange thought that she has had a part in all this. She's said those words quite often to me. “Perhaps.” I found myself gazing into her eyes until her cheeks began to brighten from their orange to a soft red.

“Is. Is there something on my face?” she fumbled, desperately searching for a napkin.

“You're fine.” she relieved her worry. “How's the food?”

She glanced down at an empty plate, “I don't even remember eating all of it.” she laughed. “Oh my. How embarrassing.”

“Some desert then? Ice cream sounds nice.”

“Ice cream in the middle of winter?”

“Why not? I've been craving it quite a bit recently.” She shrugged in agreement.

I called the server over, asked what they had. Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, orange sherbert. Apricot ordered sherbert and I, chocolate. After we finished off the teeth numbing treats, I paid for our meals and lead Apricot outside into the cold. We both enjoyed ourselves. I suggested we walk to the old apricot tree in the nearby woods. The largest and only one that grew there. It was strange how it worked, it never bore any fruit, but it always bloomed every year in pink centered and white petaled flowers. Apricot's mane matched them well. Even joked about how alike her and the tree were.

The tree itself wasn't that far into the woods. Through the line, a glade and into another. After the second glade, a right and through another patch of trees. It was easy to tell the direction, as years of traversing this path had worn the grass down. In the winter, it was always being cleared by somepony. Some refer to it as The Ghost of the Apricot Path. There wasn't a story behind it, like Dream's home. Which I think stranger now.

We brought ourselves to the nook formed by the largest of its roots. From here, the night sky. White sparks on the deepest and darkest purple hue. The head of a mare formed by craters on a rocky disc glowing by the sun's remaining light. A single bird cawed from the valley below. The Apricot tree stretched higher than the woods. From here, the only thing you could see of Clackerton was the peak of the clock tower. And although the trees had lost their green, this painting of a lonesome night was as homely as ever.

I recalled a memory, “Apricot, you remember when we first met? How we came here in a game of hide and seek?”

Giggling, she added, “Ah right. Didn't it turn into something else though?”

“Turned into a bit of rough housing, then somehow me being the noble prince and protecting you from an imaginary dragon of sorts.”

“Then we made a promise to one another.” nuzzling her head into my neck, I felt her voice crawl to a whisper, “Through dirt and mud...”

“And stormy weather, we'll always be together.”

“No matter how hard. Even across the stars.” a tear from her touched my fur. “Kind of funny how it's worked out, isn't it?” I hadn't seen her happy like this before.

“Yea.” my heart began to float, “Let's sleep out here for tonight. I know it's cold but-”

“It's not cold, Letter. It's as warm as it'll ever be.”

I didn't say anything back, we just nestled into the nook of roots further and dozed off.

#67
Winter. Day 64. Noon. Clackerton.

Apricot and I woke up to a blanket over us. No clue who left it there, though. My mother, perhaps. Always a caring one.

It was weird that the both of us would wake up at the same time. Hungry for our routine breakfast, the two of us went back into town and found ourselves before her home. Admittedly, I felt kind of bad for keeping Apricot to myself the whole night. I hoped that her parents would be alright about it. I knocked on the door in my usual demeanor. Four quick taps, a pause followed by two. The door opened almost immediately.

Her mother flung the door open, scaring us both a bit. I explained to her that we had spent the night under the apricot tree out in the woods. She was relieved to hear that nothing bad had happened. Of course, so was her father.

Before we parted ways, Apricot and I hugged, she gave me a peck on the cheek and a quick whisper, “Tomorrow night. Nothing fancy this time, okay?” I smiled and nodded. She closed the door behind her. I left her with that blanket that had been left on us. Kind of wish I would've wore something a bit warmer now. Air felt colder now.

I wandered back home. My head was filled with thoughts of her. What should we do tomorrow? What would we do if we were done with that? Then I remembered my mother's words again. I stopped thinking about what to do and before I knew it, I found myself at home and in my room. Busy usually heads out the day before the post office actually opens, that day is today. Mother still lied on the couch in the living room. Father was bound to her bedside. Her health appears to be getting better, so that's good. Although, I've wished that her illness would go away already.

After taking off the bowtie and collar, I found myself drawn to one of my old books.

#68
Winter. Day 64. Evening. Clackerton

I found myself drawn into the book, so much so, that I wound up skipping breakfast and lunch. And although it was one that I had read before, I still enjoy it despite its short length. It was an poem of sorts, about a pegasus named Storm Breaker. He flew into every storm he could find, became a hero for doing so among his fellow ponies. He did it to protect them and the land they lived on. But if they needed rain, he could pull a storm apart to make it happen. But after a long season of drought and no storms to break, Storm settled down, married and had offspring of his own. When his oldest went off to gather what they could of the crops. A maelstrom loomed and surely, it would bring harm. Storm broke that maelstrom, but he never came back.

It was always a nice read, despite the tragic ending. The epilogue however, went over the fact that he became a folk hero and that his descendents still roam that area today. The book doesn't specify where, but if I remember rightly from my reading class, I think it's someplace along the Flatwall, just south of Topazi Lazulia.

Ah, dinner's ready. Father is calling for me to come and get something to eat.

#69
Winter. Day 65. Evening. Clackerton.

Today has been a long day. First, I went to work and it seemed awfully slow. Maybe I've just gotten faster at my route. I did return earlier than normal. I planned to head over to Dream's house again to begin translation on the third volume. Curiosity of what information that one contained was great. But no. I had another date with Apricot after all.

With the extra hour that I had after my route, I ventured into the local library, aptly named after the town. I went in to find a book about names for pets, specifically birds. The library wasn't all that large, but two floors and from desk was all we really needed for it. And stairs, of course. Books brought in from trading were normally found in the bookstore, then the library when ponies didn't want them anymore. So some were always in shabby or half-ruined conditions. The library had its rules.

They had a few, but mostly for dogs and cats. So I opted for those instead. On the same shelf, were books for baby ponies. Another for weapons and armor. Seemed rather misplaced. I grabbed those two. I looked through and through. Skipping and skimming until I found some the caught my eye. Yukon, Lasky, Mudgen, Argen, Fin, Red, Herring, Bass, Blue, and Pillock. Yukon was the most relatable of the bunch. It was my late uncle's name.

He had traveled far north, where it always snowed. A loner, but kind to others. He was my mother's brother and the only one with a singular name. He was a large stallion, intimidating. Had the muscle to wrestle fives others around like paperweights. He moved north because he preferred the quiet and cold landscape over the bustle of Clackerton. Even though it could be quiet here, that wasn't often. Eventually he came back, but he had caught something nasty too. It killed him. We did all we could before he passed too. Got the doctor, got the medication. Nothing worked, doctor told us that we should prepare for his passing. Make the best of what time we have left with him and he with us.

Before he passed, he wanted me to burn down his home in the north. I've no idea why he would say that, but now that I've thought about it, I guess it's just his way to remove his earthly and remaining bonds. The only trouble is that he never really gave us a map, that I'm aware of, or any direction of where his home was. By now, it's likely to be buried by snow. I wonder if mother has anything to say about it.

#70
Winter. Day 66. Morning. Clackerton.

The second date with Apricot went well too. Did some shopping at the shops on Market Street and into the Market Square, where the more open air shops are. Which often changed depending on whats new and the current season. However, most of the merchants that regularly sold here tended to stick to the same part of the Square. Out of habit and better for their customers I suppose.

I suppose what we did last night could be rounded down to three things. Firstly, a visit to a clothier. Apricot was interested in getting something nice for herself for once. She didn't go out shopping much as a majority of her clothes were pass-me-downs from her family or something that her mother designed and made. Majority of that far too grand to wear everyday or for simple occasions. Apricot went with a long coat made of soft cotton in a soft orange, taking after caparisons that are often few and far between. Even got a large pointed hat to match.

Secondly, we visited a jewelry store Apricot had been quite fond of. She'd been eying a single neckband that had been displayed in its window. I looked at the thing, pretty simple really. A single blue sapphire peerless and square cut at its center held by a claw of silver. There would be no wedging that stone out. A flourish of scrollwork held leaves of maple, oak, and birch. The latch to adjust the band had a single flower. It matched rather well with everything Apricot was. Oddly enough, the merchant who I purchased the piece from said he had a hard time selling the thing. Sold it half off.

Thirdly, dinner. This time at a different place. Name escapes me, but we had fun there. Apricot had some apple cider, spiced with a dash of cider and it for some reason, made her light-headed. That's putting it mildly. I paid the tab and tipped the waiter and left. Took Apricot to the top floor of the clock tower covered her with the hay that lied there. I stayed with her until she calmed down. As it turns out, she had some weird reaction to apple cider that makes her intoxicated for a time. Told me that she had forgotten all about it as it had only happened once before. Memory gone of when. I assume during her fillyhood. She had profusely apologized if she had embarrassed me in any manner. I told her that it was alright and not to worry about it. After all, the worst she did was just flirt an abnormal amount, with me. And the waiter.

I embraced her, we kissed. A moment forever. She snuggled up to me yet again, managed to wrap her tail around mine. I watched the paint dry and she listened to my heart beat.

“Hey, Letter.” she circled the point of her hoof on my chest. “I was wondering, if I could help with your translations. I can teach you some dance steps if you like.”

She knew well that I couldn't dance, I always thought I had sloppy hoof work. “You know I have sloppy hoof work. It's not a bad proposal though. Say, third date, surprise me with something.”

“Oh. You still want to do the dancing though, right?”

“Yes, Apri.”

She hummed to herself, thinking. “I think I've got it. When should our third date be then?”

“Three days from now, good?”

“Yes.”

Took her home then.

#71
Winter. Day 69. Evening. Clackerton.

And so, true to our agreement with one another, I learned a bit of swing and slow from Apricot and she learned to translate. Ultimately lead to breaks in that work, breaks that lead to slow dancing in the study of Dream's home. With the third volume, the pages seemed more of an understanding of not magic, but the animal habitats that live in this world. Sketches and details marking individual parts and functions galore. Even a few more grotesque and graphic images of internal organs stretched the length of several pages. Only to make a point of what's connected where and what happens when some things are severed.

Strange how it was written though. The author consistently referred to themselves in a plural manner. A group of Designers researching the beings of the world. Constructing crystals and objects to represent basic things. A majority of those housing the power of their representation. It was from researching life here, understanding the magic, and learning to control it that they found their life upon. There were several occurrences in this volume that mentioned these devices: Eidolon, The Six, Circuit, Planar, Bury, Acacia, and Storm Drought. It only ever mentioned progress of these designs, never any sort of completion. Still, it was something.

There's always the chance that the information of these Designs, they called them, how apt, had their research and dates of completion in more books. Either in a fourth volume or placed apart and hidden away.

Again, there was a two part poem at the end. Nudged in to tell the tale of a single pony.

V.

They raised statues

Of Him unnamed

Of slaying and repent

Of knowledge and wit

Kingdoms of His calling

Upon thrones of bone

Say He never died

Death unable to snatch his wings.

And Life took him from Earth

His shackles left to break

He choose to stay

VI.

Shackles unto cinder and ash

He wander there

Where the dead lie

Greet them at the shore

Denied Life and Death

Sky and Abyss

Found for him, a home

To be ever watchful

From the Aether Throne

Six parts in whole. Yet, there seemed to be something missing. Another part. The numerals for seven and eight were there, on the last page. Mother's book! Of course! Hers must have the last two. It contained descriptions of these deities, so to speak. It's a guess, but oh is it a good one.

I went to go fetch the book from my home but Apricot caught me with her pleading eyes. “Letter, the surprise I wanted to show you.”

“Ah, right. Forgive me for being forgetful. I don't know why this gets me so wrapped up.”

“One of your talents, I think. Your name is Letter after all. Not to mention your cutie mark.”

“Right. Anyways, this surprise you've wanted to show me?”

She pulled out something small from one of the pockets of her new caparison. A small stone of garnet trapped by symmetrical and geometrical gold wires thin as hair. She pulled the locket I wore and twisted a few of those tiny delicate wires around a loop on its bottom and knotted it together. It always amazed me how well she could form such tiny works without the use of magic. “There.” she gleefully smiled, “Perfect. Garnets are always nice with this kind of intricate wire work. Don't you think?”

“Right.” I eyed over the gemstone, comparing its look to the locket, Celestia's Parchment Stone, and the petals that wrapped the chain. Maybe Celestia wasn't kidding about that whole royalty thing. “Anymore stuff on this and I'll be confused for nobility.”

“Maybe you already are.” she chuckled. “And I say it suits you perfectly.”

“You know what, no more translations for tonight. Let's have talk over a cup of tea with Dream and Apparition.”

#72
Winter. Day 70. Evening. Clackerton.

After Apricot's little surprise last night and the chat over tea, I lead her home and went about my own way. Traveling over to Flight Gear's first before heading home. I wanted to see how the equipment was doing. I met a very weary pony behind that door to the workshop. He'd been up for quite a bit longer than I have. Told me he'd spent the last few days working on nothing but projects and with little sleep. He had finished the equipment but a few calibrations were needed. Which is where I came in.

He warned me that I may not be able to get the equipment off or on by myself due to the way it works. Like Silver Liner, a quiet whir came from the engine. The cold metal chassis covered a good portion of my chest but movement wasn't all that limited. Flight had designed a way for the bits that would protect my wings to bend properly while I was in flight. For maneuvers. He pointed out that based on how my wings were swept, would alter the speed of the engine. If it needed to be turned off, there was a kill switch, triggered by stalling out the engine for more than twenty seconds. Staring the engine would require a certain wing speed. Weight would be something that I would have to get used to, but it already felt light enough.

It was with little effort that we managed to calibrate the equipment. More effort to take it off after double-checking the numbers. Although it was finished, Flight Gear was creating another model that could fold unto itself, negating the lengthier process. Said he'd have it done in a month. I was happy about that. I told him that the next time I had to go somewhere far, I would take the equipment. Flight gave me the honor of naming the thing. Gold Arrow Mark I. A bit cheesy, but it was agreeable.

#73
Winter. Day 71. Evening. Clackerton.

VII.

I saw to chronicle

Him

The gods

And all life that lived

I would scribe forever

To carry their stories

They named me Honey Bee

With it, Longevity.

Then set me to see

The world

VIII.

A lockbox to keep the last book.

To hide the first kingdom

The Designs

And me

From my other half

Torn from me

Seeking to find me

It would not

Unleash evil, nor good

Should we meet

Become one

Rebirth

I've found myself unable to believe what the last two parts of the poem have brought about. My mother wrote the book on these gods, but she wrote the other three volumes as well. What happened that would cause her to have two halves?

Every step and every creaking board out of my room racked my nerves. The stairs drew on like a well. Hooves in pitched tar and my shoulders heavier than the world. She lied on the couch, still ill. Father was working overtime and Busy was sound asleep in her own room. She was awake, staring into the slowly dieing fire. The stark brown crumbling and molding into white ash. I pulled up the hoofrest again. “Mother, I finished reading the poems.”

“Good. Good.” She smiled softly. Her face looked aged now.

“Your other half? Who are they?” My mind, it trembled but my words so calm.

“My other half. She holds my magic and she can only see so far. We thought honey bees immortal for a time. Thought they aided in rebirth, even. In part, that is what stories do. It was the gods who tore me apart to give me this life. You must understand that I chose it. Not out of fear, but to keep their stories safe because mortals should keep well away from such dangerous things.”

“Dream Seer...”

“Her civilization had found Eidolon. A gate to our dead. We thought to contain them there and give rebirth through it.” The talking had begun to take her breath.

“Take your time mother. I'm sure Busy isn't waking up anytime soon.” I held one of her hooves, as I did Yukon before he passed.

“She was lucky to make it out. Apparition is free from Eidolon too.”

“Are there more books?”

“There are. But they're more history of the natives surround it. In their language as well. The poems are only in those four volumes. They're also the first ones I wrote. When you used that spell out in Ponyville, that was a spell of guidance. The alicorn had called it her son because that's who the spell takes after and that alicorn, is my other half.”

I thought to ask why her other half hadn't come here yet, but I remembered the part about the lockbox. Instead, I asked something more important. “Who else knows?”

“Yukon. He was like you. It is unfortunate that he passed away. I do not know what made him so ill. Aside from him, just you and your father only knows about my immortality. He never questions it.”

“And the first kingdom?”

“The Kingdom of Watch. It was once part of the Four but before that, it was half the world. When He took Greed from them, the kingdom stopped expanding. And thus it was referred to as the First by us. The sinking of the three you visited was caused by their own hooves.”

“How do you know about that? I haven't told anyone.”

“The pocket watch, I snuck it in your bags. Out of my own worry for you.”

The urge to scold, great as it was, I repressed. “I understand. I'll let you get some rest. And please get better.”

“I will.” She pulled her hoof away and tucked herself back in.

My hooves felt lighter now but my shoulders were still pretty heavy. With these revelations, I knew that I would have to say goodbye to mother at one point or another. What bothered me was when.

Chapter 5: An Old Friend, Gone Again.

#74
Winter. Day 75. Evening. Clackerton

I am still a bit troubled by the revelation of my mother's existence. Though she is immortal, it is a limited thing. Her illness a testament to that. She's been careful not to become gravely wounded. Tells me that she has gone by several different names before, but she's never forgotten her original name of Honey Bee. It is also unfortunate that she cannot remember anything before they essentially split her in two. Still, I question if she may have actually have been an alicorn before then. Then I wonder about her other half and how much time is left before it winds up finding her. A question without an answer.

Mother entrusts me with the lockbox for a good reason, its key and the pocket watch too. I've yet to figure out how to open up either. Perhaps I'll have to take them to Prudence when I get the time, or Twilight. The two of them may be able to figure something out. I am unsure what I should send to Celestia and Twilight. To reveal the fact that my mother has lived this long to anypony is troublesome. Results could place Clackerton in danger. Aside from those facts, I've sent the rest of the translations except for the last two parts of the poem.

The reality of the situation is slowly settling in and I'm not entire sure what to make of it. I've contemplated countless hours of the matter already, where Apricot stepping into the study frightened me. Boards became cannons and breaths became gusts. She pulled me away from that and I thanked her for it. I guess my sister's habit of immersive study rubbed off on me a bit.

#75
Winter. Day 76. Evening. Clackerton

I've received a letter from Idol Find today. Busy had given it to me after I was done with my shift. I was quite surprised, to say the least. We're good friends, still are. We started writing each other a bit after he moved to Manehatten, a move he was anxious about but he adjusted well. Told me that he got caught up in celebrity managements. Finding talents for well known record labels and movie studios. It was because of that, that the letters eventually ceased.

I remember his personality well. Always a bit outspoken, one to be looked up to. But at some points, I thought he looked up to me. Never said much about his nobility and family, guess he preferred to keep that a secret. His speech was something else, made long words sound like one syllable. However, when he would make a claim, he could back it up easily. Still, he did not flaunt his nobility, which I was, still am, happy about.

He had an unusual coat pattern though. An odd mixture of sequin, eyes too, and an incredibly dark green, white freckles. Mane and tail matched those pale dots that crossed his face. However, his eyes always had this look of old age due to an odd illness that's afflicted him his entire life. Affected his magic too, unfortunately.

Aside from stating a few of his successes, he wanted me to meet some beautiful mare that he'd come across in Manehatten. Apparently a mare so beautiful that it left his heart aflutter and his mind dumbfounded. He didn't want to spoil a name but from his frantic writing of her beauty, he really wanted me to meet her. I have a good guess as to who it is already, Rarity. She told me a bit about their relationship with one another during my rather extended stay in Ponyville.

In accordance with the letter, Busy gave me two weeks off to visit Idol. Which, oddly, seemed rather specific.

Apart from all that, I decided on naming my pet eagle Yukon after all. Even got a band with his name on it to put on his leg.

#76
Winter. Day 78. Noon. Manehatten Train Station

Made it out to Manehatten. Couldn't write much on the train ride here, gave me a headache. But I did manage quite a bit of sleep, as did Yukon. I brought with me my locket and saddlebag. Apricot said she wanted to come along as well, but her family called for a reunion, she was helping to organize it. Although Gold Arrow Mk. I was finished and I could use it, I opted not to use it for this trip as I wanted to use it for work-related things. And this was not.

On the train ride over, I couldn't help but notice a pony that bore a strong resemblance to Rarity. They wore a light green bonnet, sunglasses, and a light blue shirt. I would've liked to have asked, but I didn't want to make myself look like a fool either. So I receded the thought.

After getting off the train here at Manehatten, I saw that it was far busier than Canterlot's. Thankfully, Idol had also provided a map with his letter, though crudely drawn, marked that path from the train station to his home. A suite to an apartment complex. He crudely written the names of the streets too. I almost had to ask what street he was on.

#77
Winter. Day 78. Evening. Manehatten. Gemini Towers

I walked by many stores on my way to Idol's. Jewelry stores alight with gold and silver, being as luxurious as possible. Placing all their stones in carefully crafted bezels and hoops. Another store selling paintings and canvases larger than doors. Abstract, surreal, and landscapes of all kinds. There were a lot more stores that were just focused on just selling specific sets of clothes. A few for the noble and rich, more for the simple and poor. All in all, a majority of the stores appeared to have a limited amount of space to work in, unless they were more vertically inclined.

When I got to the towers, it was pretty clear that this building was newer than the ones that surrounded it. The postcard Idol sent of the building didn't quite capture its elegance in full. Blue glass and rows of silver stripes climbed up the sides of the tower. Trying to see where they ended, could strain ones neck. Before one would enter the building, there was a small drive in which visitors or residents could have their vehicles parked in a lot further down the road by valet members. Although, vehicles here, seemed incredibly rare still. Even odder, were the several landings pads that branched out further up the tower, for pegasi or small flight craft I assume. Whoever designed it, purposed it for future inventions and they did a good job of that. To stay true to its name, a bridge connected an identical tower on the opposite side of the street.

Upon entering the towers through glass doors clear as day, a fitting gold plaque to the pedestal of a small statue of the towers sat before a red rug leading to the front desk. The rug with its gold trim, was flanked by tall well-trimmed evergreens potted in red clay. The lobby stretched its ceiling past at least three floors. The first floor alone had a bank, coffee shop, and a restaurant. Needless to say, these towers are suited for more than just living.

I gave Idol's name to the mare behind the front desk and she gave me the room number and directions. Telling me take something called an elevator. Something that they were a bit uneasy about when they were initially installed. I imagine taking the stairs to the top would be a pain. I put my trust in that metal box though, despite its uneasy shift when it began to move. Each floor became partially revealed by the metal gate that only opened once stopped at an appropriate floor. Still I wonder how a contraption works. My guess would be some sort of pulley system.

Yukon didn't seem all that bothered by it either, but I think he was sound asleep in my bag. I could feel him shift around in there to get comfortable again whenever he woke up. I looked at the paper again, nudging him aside, to see the room number and floor. The 39th floor and room 3939. I smirked as I remembered his favorite pet to keep, cats and those two numbers were also his favorite.

When the elevator stopped, the ironworked gates slid into the elevator walls to hide. Upon exiting, I was met with a wall, numbers lead by arrowheads pointing out sets of rooms. I followed the straightforward hall of off white and glass until I came upon his room. Every entrance to the room was the same, insert for something oddly flat just above their knobs. A button, softly illuminated by an orange light was planted in the wall just beside the frames. I pressed the button down softly, followed by a muffled chime from the other side.

A moment of silence, then a moment of a slide and the light rattle of a chain. And with the pull of the door, his face once more. “Idol.” I said.

“Ah, Letter. It's been quite some time hasn't it. Come on in.” I did so, he closed the door behind me. “excuse the mess, I haven't had much time to prepare. Living without a butler has well, changed my habits. Having somepony do something for you all the time is such a nice privilege that you can forget that you yourself have to do it now.” He flicked his magic to set things right in the living room and kitchen. Placing books upon shelves, a floor lamp upright, tossing some old papers into a bin, and tidying the table. His magic was a sky blue, the wisps that I saw about him seemed limp and decayed. I think in part to his illness.

I thought the entire apartment fit for at least three and while I gazed at the window he had taped a few papers to, I said, “You've been busy I take it?”

“Quite. If you like, I can take your bags for you.”

“It's fine.”

“All right, I won't hassle you about it. Make yourself at home, then. I've little use of the guest room here, so it shouldn't be too much of a pigsty – albeit a bit dusty.”

“Okay.” I found myself wandering toward the large pane of glass instead and he took to the kitchen. “How have things been?”

“Pretty good, actually. I've managed to secure some good ground here. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that my illness has come back to nag at me again.”

“Really?” I stared out the window, gazing over the bland blocks of structures extruding from the pavement below. “How bad do you think it'll be this time?”

I heard him set a glass down on the counter, followed by a sigh, “Life-threatening, terminal, even. Doctor says I may only have a few weeks left.”

A stone sunk my chest then, “Two weeks... You couldn't have told me sooner?”

“No, Letter. The onset of this illness, whatever has afflicted me my entire life, is only rearing its symptoms since five days ago.”

“Right. You've got everything planned out for that?”

“I do, but I'm not going out with a bang. I'd prefer a quiet funeral. To be honest, I don't like the noise of a party. I've grown tired of those. Instead, I' have a doctor look after me for the time being. Would you like something to drink?”

“Apple juice sounds good, water if you don't have any. What are the ponies like that live here? A lot of them seem pretty self centered.” I sat down at the table, taking off my saddlebag. Yukon stayed in there, I think he was nervous about coming out.

“Ah well, they can all be great friends or they can be great enemies. You pick you battles here, see what options are best and hope the risk isn't more than what you bargain for. That's the way of the businesses around here. Unfortunately some prefer to cheat their way to the top. As you know I came out here to work as a manager of sorts, to promote coffee house talents and help them find stardom should they so desire. Still, some prefer not to obtain such high status. Even more that shake me off with a cold shoulder.” He used his magic to give me the glass of juice and I took it with a thank you. “Aside from that, how's the family been? I know your sister has been busy at the post office. Has she gotten any more gorgeous?” He took a seat then, sipping from a glass of milk.

He always teased me of having a lovely looking sister and how she still hasn't found a stallion worth enough to her. “Idol, she hasn't changed all that much. Just increased her workload a bit.”

“She'll work herself to death one of these days, she keeps that up.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Ouch.” He grinned. “The rest?”

“Mom's been sickly, as always but she's been able to get off the couch more recently. Dad's been busy with a bridge to a different part of the mountain for more residential districts.”

“Sounds pretty usual. And Apricot?”

“She's been well. I invited her to come along, but she's helping with a family reunion. Which reminds me, who's this mare that you're on about?”

“Ni, I'm not spoiling the name. You read enough in the letter. I'm sure she'd love to meet Apricot too.” He flipped the subject, “Have you been dating her at all? You two have been an item since you met, really.”

“Yes, we have.” I felt myself getting a bit shy about it. “Three dates now in the past week or so.”

“I hope you two enjoyed yourselves then. I wish the best for the future too. I won't be there to see it.”

“Idol, don't talk like that, please. Not now.” His grin vanished. “What about your family? What have they said in response to this?”

“Family? Yours was more than mine, Letter. They've written me out, really. Luckily, my father and mother both wrote me in their will, giving me what money they had left. It's helped a lot but I haven't spent a single bit of it. Put it all in a savings account when I moved out here. A victory for me, wouldn't you say?” He smiled again. “Of course, they've been trying to get back at me for that.”

“Well, from what you've told me I can't imagine why.” I recalled the letter to think of another topic. “Oh, wasn't there some commission piece you were asked to do?”

“Yes. Bluntly speaking, the fountain in front of Manehatten University was done over from a bunch of vandals. Why anypony would do that is beyond me. I think I can make it better though. I've got something special in mind. I've had a bit of practice already.”

“You'll have to show me when you get the chance.”

I drank the rest of my apple juice and he drank the rest of his and by some coincidence, the doorbell rang when he got up. He set our glasses on the counter and answered the door. I heard a familiar voice after he opened it. A cheery and proud voice that matched his level of speech. He joked about her bringing in a few boxes of Filly Scout cookies. He parted with her a moment to take her bags and let her roam on her own. Straight for the kitchen. She didn't see me at first, but when she turned the corner and looked at the table, she did. “Letter! It's so nice to see you again. Did Idol invite you as well?”

She took the other chair, “He did”

“How are your wings?”

“They're fine. Although, I've been refraining from using them. Don't know how well they've healed, ya know.”

“Doesn't hurt to stretch out every once in awhile darling.”

Idol crept up behind her signaling me to keep quiet, “Of course, but Clackerton has rules about flying due to its location. Maybe I'll get some time here.”

“Very well, I would watch out for-” She shrieked from the surprise hug Idol gave her. “IDOL! What have I said about doing that!” she whimpered.

“You two have already met, how so?”

“I had an extended stay in Ponyville due to an enhancement of sorts to my wings. Had to spend some time in the hospital there to recover.”

“Oh, how did this happen?”

“A magic storm. Flew into the eye of it, something zapped me and I fell to the ground.” A half truth, but it's not wrong either.

“Pretty random methinks. However, recalling one of Rarity's stories, the one about Discord especially, I don't doubt it. I'm not going doubt you, either.”

“Thanks, Idol. As you were saying, Rarity?”

“Saying?” She calmed herself, “Oh, yes. As I was saying, just look out for zeppelins and other pegasi. There have been a few accidents.”

Idol pulled away from Rarity, “While you two catch up, I'll make some for dinner.”

We talked a bit. Watched a television, a strange device really. None of those in Clackerton, far as I know. We ate. Yukon came out of my bag, Idol hadn't been expecting an eagle to pop out of there.

As for Rarity and Idol being a pair, I can see why. However, I don't know how he's going to tell her that he's a dying stallion. I don't like to think about it, but it's a topic that will need to be brought up.

#78
Winter. Day 79. Noon. Manehatten.

We slept well into the morning having exhausted ourselves from the enjoyment of conversation. Rarity had gotten up earlier to attend to some matters of her own. Idol invited me to join him in breakfast at this diner further down the street called Cup of Blues. Said the one here in the tower was bland and tasteless.

Cup of Blue was a small place nestled between two much taller buildings and a short walk from an intersection and a power plant. To look back toward the Gemini Towers you could only see the bridge and the row of bushes that sat just before the sidewalk, dividing it from the brick driveway. The diner itself was dainty and although it was in older fashion, it felt more homely. The diner a lot of more earthly tones for its interior, accenting nearly everything with a neutral blue. Being small and yet large enough to hold a bar and a small stage for live performances. No curtains though, not necessarily something they needed there. The music being played matched the diner's color.

Soft and slow, a tread of heart in its sound, not to be danced to but felt. A double bass played by a gray pony with black mane and tail, and a purple treble clef cutie mark. She kept her eyes closed during her ongoing performance. A clear indication, to me, that she'd been playing for years. The bow held delicately, the strings tugged lightly, and notes called out in a quiet voice. She was accompanied by mare white as snow with two toned blue stripes in both her tail and mane styled in an unusual way. She sat behind a board wired to a microphone and a set of speakers on the stage. They were on, but at a low volume.

Idol and I had a seat not too far from that stage and its cherry wood planks at a small table of the same. The waitress brought us our orders. He ordered waffles, I ordered pancakes. I had tea, he had coffee. Both of us had syrup and butter. By some coincidence, the music stopped then and Idol spoke up, “What do you think of Rarity?”

“She's a generous mare. It's her nature. Although, I'm guessing she may also be a bit selfish. You should know more than I do about her.”

“I do. Was curious, is all.”

“You know that you'll have to tell her right?” I blurted out. “Sorry.”

“Don't be, Letter. I've been thinking about it for months now. Even if I didn't know then. Just don't tell her, okay? I'd rather her not be angry with me.”

“Right. I suppose the best time to tell her would be when the doctor comes over. Before, might be better. On the same day of course.”

“That sounds all right. I'd like to take her out, at least once without the thought on her mind. I'm just not sure when or how.”

I thought back to our school days together, there was always one mare fawning over him, “Really, Idol? The one crowned 'Most Handsome' in our school is having that kind of issue?”

He glared, “Letter, you know I never date much. Family wouldn't allow for it.” he continued, with a sigh. “What would you suggest.”

I thought back to some of dating advice I used to hear, father was good at that, “Take her out where you two first met. Somewhere extravagant, even. I'm not even sure if you should be asking me.” He stared down into his coffee, complacently. “You all right?”

“Just thinking back, ya know. Back when I – we didn't worry about this. Anyways, you've given a proper idea. I'll figure something out.”

And just as the conversation had started, it ended much the same. It was actually kind of amusing that it happened that way. Noon rolled around by the time we got back to the suite. Idol prepped himself with pinstripes and tie. Said that he wanted to surprise her when she got back, knowing she would be soon. He showed me how to use the radio in the guest room and the television in the living room. The stove and oven as well, should I need their use. He was nervous about surprising her, as he was generally one to have things on a schedule days or months in advance.

#79
Winter. Day 80. Morning. Manehatten.

Rarity and Idol went out last night. Went to a play called The Masked Phantasm. A story well know both here and at home apparently. About a stallion who slowly chases his friends and family away by pretending to be a ghost of sorts so he can spend his final days alone. Only to be undone by a mare who loves him. Discovering his that he owned the mask that protected his identity. However, in an odd twist at the end, the passing stallion, who at this point has his loved ones surrounding him, on his death bed says to them that he was not the one who wore the mask. Then the curtains closed. The author of the story has passed away some time ago. A sequel was never written. Some like to believe that it was for the better. Others demanded one. It seems both opinions died out long after the story was first released.

They both enjoyed the play, although Rarity kept going on about how atrocious some of the outfits and props were designed. Idol had to steer her off that topic a few times. I would've liked to have went with the two of them, Rarity insisted that I go too but I insisted that it was fine. Assuring her that I've heard the story well enough already. Idol said the the date was satisfying, he hadn't had one with her in such a long time without the worry of work. I was glad to hear it however, he seemed to neglect telling her of his illness. It was still at an early stage, but I could see that it was getting worse. How does one see a black face getting pale?

#80
Winter. Day 81. Morning. Manehatten.

Yesterday afternoon, after Idol had come home from his last day of work, he collapsed on the kitchen floor while prepping himself some food. I saw him trying to stagger out of there when I came to his aid, having heard plates shatter against the floor. I hefted him up, and placed him on his bed. This was his illness. Fever, coughing, a quickened heartbeat, hallucinations. There have been a few times where he'd fall into a prolonged state of sleep as well. I didn't care for the ceramic pieces stuck in my hooves, as much as they hurt. Idol fumbled his nightstand drawer for his doctor's number. Told me quickly how to reach him. Some device the doctor developed for him to use. A pager, he called it.

I kept at Idol's bedside until the doctor showed up. A portion of time that felt far too long. The doctor showed up, ushered me out of Idol's room so he could perform the proper procedure. Whatever that may be. I sat in the hall with Yukon, gently stroking his feathers and crest, patiently waiting for some result. A part of me hoped for a miracle, another part was in vexing jealousy, a third accepting of it all. Conflicting bunch of feelings, disconcerting too.

The clack of the dead bolt jolted and refocused my mind. Rarity came back from her charity event. She saw me in the hall, silent stares at one another. It was with a sigh that confirmed what we both knew. She quietly closed the door and sat down next to me. “You had to call the doctor?”

“Yea. He collapsed in the kitchen. I carried him to bed and he told me to call the doctor.”

“I see. And your hooves?”

I had forgotten about that. “Oh, they're fine.”

“How long has it been?”

“About an hour, I think? I haven't kept track of the time honestly. I kind of don't want to.”

“How long have you known?”

“The illness?” She nodded. “As long as I've known him, five or so years now I think. I didn't think to tell you when I first heard. Even if I did...” I trailed off. At this point, it didn't matter how long either of us had known.

“Don't worry, Letter, I understand. As much as it hurts.” As much as I would think she wouldn't, I've no right to doubt her either.

“Thanks. Honestly, I didn't know how much time he had left until I got here. He's gotten sick like this before, but he always came out of it. Even if the doctor says that he won't make it through this time, I don't want him to be right. I've lost family but never a friend.”

“Letter, calm down.” I was unaware that my thoughts were sending me into a panic. “Let's wait to hear the words from the kind doctor, darling.”

I breathed deeply. “Thanks.” Even after I said those words. Even I after I repeated those words to the doctor, I feel that no amount of thanks could ever help. I'm losing a friend. That doctor had eyes that spoke. He's told this to many before us in different matters. Idol has two weeks and the best we can do is make him as comfortable as possible. His magic would be the first to go.

Rarity went into the room first after the doctor left, after informing us that he would be coming back on a daily basis until Idol ultimately passes away. I was hesitant, standing in the doorway, watching her talk with him from afar. I eventually willed myself into looking at him, hooked up to an IV with water, a bloody napkin beside a bowl of warm water on his nightstand. A moist rag on his forehead. Heavy, dry breathing that berated the ears.

Idol gazed back at me, smiled, “You like you've seen a ghost.”

I halfheartedly joked back, “Maybe I have.” Only, that was true but he didn't know.

“Well, looks like I'll be kicking the bucket this time, Letter. I've grown rather tired of this and as much as I would like to live longer, I'm satisfied with everything the way it is now.” He paused, to catch his breath before speaking up again. “I've got lovely surprises for both of you, but only until you see the will.”

“Right,” I answered.

It was a long night, Rarity having fallen asleep at his bedside and I went to my own room unable to. All I could have were nightmares and rambling thoughts of what he and I shared. There was this same feeling that kept repeating itself, that he had been alone for most of his life. At least, until he met me. I never really thought about how much I changed his life, I never thought I was trying to. Th result was me staying up, just listening to white noise through the radio. Somehow, that quiet whisper of hissing was comforting. Sometimes I thought I heard a trumpet blare through it, followed by strings. Then, an entire orchestra. I can't remember the tone. They were just there, singing.

#81
Winter. Day 82. Late Noon. Manehatten.

Rarity left for the majority of the day again, having to attend a fashion show of sorts with somepony named Sapphire Shores. A big wig in the industry, apparently. I kept to Idol's bedside until the doctor came. Again when he left. I've had to replace the rag a few times already. Idol didn't seem to care for the illness. He'd grown up with it, adjusting and bearing with it every time it decided to try and claim him. He talked, being the chatterbox he always has been. Only, the sickness had berated his voice now. He had to speak softly, with a slight wheezing.

“I ever tell you how great a friend you are, Letter?”

“You have, two times already. Once during graduation and before you moved out here.”

“Ah, right. Something along the lines of being there until the end. No matter how hard it gets.”

“Pretty close, yea.”

“I need you to do me one last favor.” He pulled out two envelopes from his nightstand with his flickering magic. “I've had these in here for awhile now. Really, they've kind of haunted me. Both these letters need to delivered. The blue one to the diner we went to and the yellow one to a foster home on the outskirts here.”

“Foster home?”

“Aha,” He coughed, “right. I haven't told you yet. Rarity and I were looking to adopt a young colt there. Was orphaned by a fire. He's a bit of an artist.”

“I could see you being a father, Idol. If you didn't have to deal with this, you'd probably be able to raise him more.”

He laughed, “Yea. Thing is Letter, I'm already plenty happy.”

A knife to the heart with those words. “Yea. I guess you are. Anyways, where's the foster home at?”

“Ask Rarity when she gets back and when you get there, ask for Statuesque. He's a bit shy, but he won't hide on you. The letter for the diner, just give it to the host, she'll know what to do.”

“Alright. I'll see to it in the morning then.”

#82
Winter. Day 83. Early Evening. Manehatten.

I talked with Rarity a bit last night, to see if she could she could stay and watch over Idol. She thankfully agreed. I asked her for the directions to the foster home as well. Which she gladly gave me. I got up early this morning, to make my effort to deliver the letters easier. I hoped. Maybe it's just the fact that I wanted to get the letters out as soon as I could.

I somehow managed to remember the way to the diner, Cup of Blue. Of course, it wasn't that difficult to find either. I gave a letter to an light apple red of a mare, freckled red with red-orange mane. She told me that Idol was a regular here, that he had secured the diner financially. Renovated it and renewed its atmosphere. He worked with manager who had a knack for interior work. Then she began to tell me in her sweet voice, that she heard some stories from Idol about me. My kindness and determination, and my sometimes stubborn nature. How well rounded I was to other ponies, despite not having many friends in school. Idol was right about all that but it made me wonder, why didn't he ever talk to her about himself. I left after she excused herself in order to give the letter to the proper recipient.

Traversing the wildly congested sidewalks, following the directions that Rarity gave me to get to the foster home. It was nerve racking to try and follow the directions even. My mind so wound up about Idol and wondering what else he's done around here. Regardless of all that, I eventually found myself on a dirt road on the outskirts of Manehatten. I found the proper address and when I looked back to where I thought The Gemini Towers would be, I couldn't see them. Not even the steeples that topped them. However, I could see some factories further down the road, billowing smoke from their stacks. The train station was around there too, the boxcars rolling along the tracks. I could hear the whistle of the locomotive blow repeatedly. Similar to the whistle that was blown at the docks of Clackerton.

I turned to the house, checked the address again. A large split level home with a small porch. Green in color, blue shutters, foggy windows, and rickety steps up to the door. Some rather obvious repair on the posts and the door frame done by nails and small unpainted boards. Random chalk drawings covered the sidewalk up to the steps. Some of the house, some of random animals, some of rocket ships. With every creak of the board, the thought ran by me, how is a young colt going to handle this? Even then, a stranger telling him that his once father-to-be is dieing?

With a deep breath, I cleared my head and knocked on the door. It flung open and a fat pony, tired and smelly, opened the door; with an untrimmed beard. “What?” he croaked.

“I have a letter for Statuesque.”

“You can't leave it in the mailbox?” he snarled.

“Sorry sir, I'm not familiar with postal system here. I'm not entirely positive on where your mailbox is, sir.”

Peering over my shoulder, frustration ran his face. “Darn kids down the street must have knocked it over and taken it again. I don't know why they keep doing it.” He scratched his head. “Tell ya what, I'll get Statuesque and you can give the letter to him. I don't want the other kids digging in.”

“I can wait.” Honestly, I didn't want to. I wanted to make sure Idol was all right. I could hear that stallion call out for Statuesque from behind the closed door. Then it creaked open again, not to reveal the stallion, but a young colt half my age. “Statuesque?”

“Y-Yes.” he squeaked. “W-What is it?”

I pulled the letter out of my bag. It was a lot lighter without Yukon in there. I left him at the suite in case they needed to contact me. It did take some reassuring, however. “A letter for you, from Idol Find.”

“R-Really?” he was excited to hear that. Statuesque, what a fitting name for this colt. Stiff coat clouded like white marble. His mane and nub of a tail to match; eyes a soft pink. “T-This doesn't seem right. H-He's dieing. T-That can't be true, tell me it's not please. P-Please!” he pleaded.

I sat down and opened my forelegs up to him, he immediately hugged me; crying his eyes out. I let him finish crying before I spoke up, “I know. I'm a friend of his. A very close friend.”

“I-I see. I-I should pack my things to see him then. W-Would you mind leading me back, mister?”

“I can. Will your foster parent be okay with that?” He nodded. “Good.” I sat on the porch for a little while. Admiring the stark scenery of bland skyscrapers and dirty roads. Before I knew it, I lost my thought to those chalk drawings. The sweet innocence unmarred by tragedy. I envied it, even. A third and final swing of those creaking hinges snapped through me again. I heard the foster parent questioning Statuesque if it was all right. When he heard Idol's name, the nervousness in his voice disappeared. He then helped him take his stuff out by the road. A barrage of suitcases strapped to a dolly.

“You're Idol's friend, Letter, I presume?” I nodded. He looked back to see if Statuesque was minding his own. “Idol's a good kid, helped with the bills here. Told me a bit about you too. Said you could be a good father, just like him. Shame that won't happen now. I'm sorry. Oh, before I forget, some paper work for Idol.”

“Thank you.” I felt so empty saying that, but somehow, it helped.

I watched him from the road, glance back to see him close the door. It didn't squeak this time around. I glanced down at Statuesque and he assured me that he was ready to go. From there, we slogged our way through the city streets. A longer walk than my trek through that snow.

When I finally got back to the suite, we passed the doctor on his way out and we greeted each other with a nod. I moved Statuesque's suitcases into Rarity's room, where he would be staying the night. Rarity, at this point, seemed like a caring mother or a very wise older sister. Statuesque would be more comfortable with her than with me.

#83
Winter. Day 83. Late Evening. Manehatten.

Funny that Rarity would come to get me after I was done writing my last entry. Told me that Idol wanted to talk to me before the night was through. So I took to his bedside. Told me to close the door and lock it, so I did. He just laid there and stared at the ceiling like it amused him. When I went to speak, he would shush me. I don't know how long it was until he spoke up. “Letter, you want to know how I got here?”

“Sure.”

“Because of you, Letter. I felt I could learn a lot from doing things like you do. As it turns out, it works pretty well.” he grinned. “The way you always interacted with other ponies always made me a bit jealous. Still, I wonder how you didn't have many friends to go to.”

“Well, I-”

“Shush. I'll tell you now why I never spoke much about my family, other than my parents. My family was a load of inbred shits. Believing to keep the blood pure by doing so. My illness is a result of that. We kept every event to ourselves, arranged our marriages well before the child would even be born. Balls and galas alike were all held in an underground reception hall that easily hid our secrets. Even the choice to go to our school was on a thin wire. I was lucky to move out here, even.

And you, Letter, helped me a lot with that, whether you know it or not. I'd go out into your world every day happy as could be and when I was at home I had to endure the most blatant and tight-lipped conversations and uptight noble rolls that everypony performed. It would be so much better if none of that ever existed. I don't wish vengeance, Letter, I wish for an end. I hope you don't mind another favor.”

“I don't”

“Good.” his fickle magic grasped for another envelope on his nightstand. “Take this to the mayor when you get back. “Here. This contains information on my families black market; which traffics servants and drugs. Flight Gear and the mayor don't know about this spiel, they should be fine and my family doesn't know about you. So you should be fine.”

“Making your family sound like some sort of conspiracy group, Idol.”

“They pretty much are but they've yet to take action in taking over Clackerton.” what? “It's something I figured out when I asked a friend of mine in the Guard. Plus the fact that they've sent me letters asking for my help in any way, I outright denied them.” He tugged at my mane, “I want it stopped before it begins, Letter. Before the entire town is held hostage.” and let go.

“Held hostage?”

“They've managed to persuade many of the guard, some of the mayor's assistants, and some of Flight Gear's dock workers.”

“Why are they doing this?”

“Greed. Power. That's pretty much it. They don't care what happens to the town. They never have.”

“You couldn't have told me or the mayor because?”

“Because I was scared. Really, I was. I'm not brave, Letter. Moving out here is probably the bravest thing I've ever done. When all's said and done, I've come to realize that I'm nothing more than a bumbling coward.”

My temper flared. “Idol. Shut up, dammit. Shut up. You were never a coward. We all have our fears. Just stop saying that.” I calmed myself down, noticing his jolted reaction. “Sorry. I don't like to get angry. Just, don't go believing that you're a coward, you never were.” More weight “You're doing the right thing. If something goes wrong, I'll figure something out.”

“Right. You will. I know it.” He sighed. “Stay here a bit, would you? It's lonely here.” So I did.

For a time, our breaths were the only things that filled the silence, he asked me a quick question about my job. I proceeded to tell him about my venture through Light Fringe Kingdom and how I helped find a king and helped him with a magic wand. I told him about Ponyville and the blizzard; the ability translate an ancient language and my wings. Then I told him about my mother and the poems she wrote. The Designers who practically set the world in motion. I neglected some minor details: the gold walls, the pain, the hallucinations. It felt better, telling him my story and seeing the look of enjoyment spread wildly across his face. He always liked a good story. Never read into fairy tales that much. It's a shame, that he won't live to see it progress any further.

“That's a great story, Letter. I sincerely hope that you're writing it down.”

“I am, actually. Helps me remember certain things sometimes. There is another reason though, the town doctor said that I had some sort of long term memory loss. So I guess, in a way, I'll be losing my life well before I die.”

He eyed me, “That's a rather morbid joke, Letter.”

#84
Winter. Day 88. Evening. Manehatten.

I've been feeling quite conflicted over these last few days. I've been wanting to keep myself distant from Idol but at the same time, I want to stay as close as I can; which I've been doing. His illness hasn't gone anywhere. Yet I know it's worsening. His magic has consistently failed him when he's been working with Statuesque. I've struggled to understand the work between them, having no prior knowledge of how statues and fountains are made. I guess my urge to help was to help Idol and in effect, get to know Statuesque a bit better too.

For such a young colt, he was rather intelligent about his talent. Heck, he was at an age where most ponies don't even have a cutie mark yet. Idol was trying to get his hoof into the artistic world and this young colt was his key to that. Shame he wouldn't even be able to get it in the lock. They collaborated on a scale model for the fountain that was to placed in the University's square. They both agreed on a book, closed, bookmarked, and untitled. It would sit on an angled surface and pedestal, with a pool of water surrounding it. Finally, a plaque with the University's motto written on it. A simple concept, really. I can't help but wonder what else they'll do with it though.

It was after they finished the model that the doctor gave us some more unfortunate news. Idol is going to have less time now, as he's predicting that the illness will progress further. Saying he'll do what he can for as long as he can. I could see in his eyes that this was a losing battle. He was such a blank face of a stallion. A heart with a few too many stones.

#85
Winter. Day 89. Evening. Manehatten.

Lung removed. Fair mess of blood on the old sheets. Idol's been unable to talk since. I'm gonna miss that voice of his. Rarity has been taking this whole situation far better than me, I think. She's managed to sort out her feelings. I, on the other hoof, am starting to feel a bit more conflicted and confused. Sure my uncle passed away but I can't even remember how I felt then. I've tried over and over to replicate that feeling in my mind to no avail.

On a somewhat lighter note, I've been busy all day opening and closing the door to the suite. Letting in ponies of all sorts. The manager, the foster parent and the other four foster kids, the hostess, those two musicians, some fashion designer with goggles over her eyes, and the University's dean. All of whom, I learned the names of: Grape Tomato, Care, Hopscotch, Tooth Ache, Chalk Tale, Stair Step, Apple Cinnamon, Octavia, Vinyl Scratch, Photo Finish, and Dean. All of them knew Idol. I sat in the corner of the room some of the time, as they brought in balloons and cards, watching the way they interacted with him. Idol tells me that I'm the one who encouraged him. It's so bittersweet.

They all knew about me too; told me the same story, how I inspired him. A part of me wants to believe that this is my fault. That he wouldn't be lying here if I never did. They all gave Rarity and I their condolences. I never said much more than a thank you. Rarity did most of the talking, for the both of us. I could already see them all in mourner's clothes.

#86
Winter. Day 91.Noon. Manehatten.

Idol's gone. He's fucking gone. Died with a smile.

His heart seized up. The doctor did what he could. No amount of magic would bring him back. Not even the Eidolon. After the doctor left with his supplies I just sat alone there in the room. Rarity kept away, I don't know what for. I don't know. My hooves were shaking the entire time I was in there. I was angry, terrified, sad. The urge to just destroy something was overwhelming. I wound up talking to him, a dead stallion, about the first time that we met; holding his hoof the entire time.

#87
Winter. Day 92. Early Evening. Manehatten.

With his lawyer's permission, we opened a lockbox under his bed. Idol told us that is where he kept his will and his surprises that he told us about when this all started. Two deeds to two small cottages northwest of Neighagra Falls. One for Rarity, and one for myself. Statuesque was now officially their adopted son. Idol gave what money he had to both Rarity and I. He gave me instructions on how to withdraw that money if I needed to. That's how he was though, always thinking ahead.

As for the funeral, that will be held tomorrow at a small hall not far from the foster home. I'll be one of four to carry his casket to the graveyard.

#88
Winter. Day 93. Late Evening. Manehatten.

We all dressed up to see him one last time. His stiff face with his forelegs folded. Mane and coat groomed well enough to date and marry. I gave a speech for a short time, describing my life with him and some of the shenanigans we had. I went on about the illness, calling it a hereditary disease that only affected him. Then that we should remember him for who he was and the impact that he had and that he lies with us in our hearts. I finished off with the last few moments we all shared with him and that some of us will fight losing battles. All pretty typical, really. Others gave their speeches too, but I can't remember any of them.

All I can remember was his face once he couldn't talk anymore. His eyes screaming “sorry.” Cursing the disease. He screamed and he screamed but his voice was no more than a wisp of wind.

We carried his casket to the graveyard and lowered it into that hole deeper than a well. A casket of dark polished wood and gold plated bars, lowered into pitch black. To be buried by earth forever and marked by a tombstone. On it, aside from birth and death and name, he had engraved, “I am no coward.” I smiled at that. I was the last to leave that graveyard. Yukon started bugging me about the cold. I couldn't care for it. I've noticed though, that he's gotten a bit bigger. I'm not sure he'll be able to tuck himself away in my bags for much longer.

The sun had already set before I left, the streetlamps flickered on in their light orange hues. Rarity found me then and by some strange occasion, it started raining. She shielded us from it with her magic; I didn't mind. I swore I could hear the echo of his piano playing. A melody from his heart he used to play that was both joy and heartfelt sadness.

When we got back to the suite, I stumbled into my room unaware of how tired I truly was. I stripped the suit and found myself sitting at the edge of my bed, unable to sleep. Yukon bugged me to too. I pleaded with him to leave me be for a bit and he did. Rarity slinked through the half-opened door and sat beside me, held her forelegs open and waited. My head found her soft white chest and I sat there and sobbed. I sobbed and I sobbed. I choked and sniffled. Yet, she didn't let go. I was so tired.

#89
Winter. Day 95. Evening. Manehatten

Since yesterday, I've been keeping watching over Statuesque as he began constructing the fountain at the University. It was a wonder to watch him dance his magic around cauldrons of liquid bronze and poor it in a shell of his magic. He assembled each part in sections as if they were building blocks. He was happy and blissful in his work. Left some parts to cool while he laid out another section. Clear that he had plenty of practice doing this.

The University of Manehatten was as grand as any. Red brickwork, concrete foundations, large windows, dorms flanking each side, a courtyard that could be its own park with encircling hedgerows around the center fountain, and trimmed down birch trees. Of course there was some pointlessly placed fences as well but I imagine they're there for decoration; considering their ironwork. The University itself was placed in a more suburban area, where houses nearly identical lined the streets. All colored in their own way.

Rarity, on the other hoof, was guest speaking in the auditorium for those who were interested in fashion design. She had become well known for that. When she came to meet me yesterday and today, she felt that there were a lot of ponies who were ogling her or their fellow classmates. She kept her head level.

Today she caught me reading through some books about mythologies and fairy tales. Some of which Idol loved. I guess it was my way of coping. She gave me a letter, from Idol. Something he wrote before he got sick apparently. It went over the fact that he knew he was going to be passing soon, what would happen, and that there was nothing that could be done to cure it. It went over what he loved about my kindness but he added to that, saying I was fit to be a leader of sorts; a king, even. He finished it saying that I should marry Apricot and how he wished to marry Rarity. An idea shot down by his illness.

By the time I finished reading the letter, Statuesque had finished the fountain. A marvelous piece of work. All that was left was the plaque and the water to fill its bed. Although, I can't help but wonder if the vandals would come back and break it again. Rarity went to fetch Dean so that he knew it was finished. I suppose we'll be coming back here tomorrow for the grand unveiling of sorts. Statuesque has a great future ahead of him, but I fear that Rarity may not always be there for him. Now, without his adopted father, he'll be missing out on fatherly advice too.

I read one of the bedtime stories from the book of fairy tales to Statuesque, tired from his work. A story about a bard who saves a kingdom from a magical beast. Legend having it that spears and swords did no harm and magic were largely ineffective. The king called for all those brave enough to hunt it down and by some unfortunate chance, the bard got caught up in the situation. The beast roamed around the woods outside of the orchard farms. The bard was afraid, of course. When the beast broke through the treeline all the mercenaries fought it and ultimately fled but the bard saw things differently. Gave it a song from his lute and the beast calmed down. The bard tamed the beast and was rewarded handsomely by the king; he declined the reward and its glory. From then on, the beast and the bard disappeared.

From that, a new legend spawned. If anypony who saw the two of them and heard the song, they would be blessed with protection from all sorts of evils.

Statuesque was had fallen asleep halfway through the story's telling. I continued reading it until the last words anyways. I like to believe the tale actually happened in some far away land. Like mother's tale about the princess and the kingfisher.

“That's so sweet of you to do, darling.” Rarity chimed.

I closed the book. “Thanks. Honestly don't have much experience with children. He wanted me to read him one. So I read him one I knew. How was the visit with Dean.”

“Good, said the unveiling of the fountain would be tomorrow. Along with the plaque and the dedication."

"That's good to hear. Go ahead and take Statuesque back to the suite, I'll take these books back to the library."

#90
Winter. Day 96. Evening. Manehatten University.

The unveiling ceremony of the fountain was small, mostly faculty members and some special guests. Among them, a familiar face: Photo Finish. She seemed to have an appreciation for the arts. I wonder what kind of relationship Idol had with most of these ponies that he'd never really told me about? Perhaps I should ask the lot of them when I get the chance. I still have a few days here, after all. Aside from that, the plaques of dedication and the motto were melded to bas of the fountain; facing the main hall. The dedication to Idol followed by a short quip of him being a loving father, and the motto "Knowledge is the key" were written in all caps; gold and copper on a bronze plate. Knowledge being key, not something you can really argue with but it can wind up in the wrong hooves.

Most of the afternoon was spent enjoying the free food that was available on elongated tables clothed in white. It became less an unveiling and more of a gathering of sorts. I seem to be forgetting the proper word, if there is one. I asked Photo Finish how she got to know Idol. She gave me her condolences once again, I instinctively thanked her for it. Apparently, she had met Idol when he was looking into somepony to critique some artwork of his. Work that all sold quite well from what she tells me. Work that portrayed the modern pony, stuck in arrogance and greed. Photo Finish offered him some advice and ran with it. He often asked her for composition advice as well, saying that photography and traditional art can compliment each other.

The event eventually came to a close as everypony began to go their own separate ways. Rarity, Statuesque, and I stayed even after the Dean left. I was happy that my ears could rest for a bit. I began to think about Idol again and my heart sank again. I still had his request to fill and I could only wonder how deep and how far his families operations have spread. I looked down at the Parchment Stone Celestia had given me. Perhaps I could request her help. Then Rarity snatched my thoughts away.

"Letter, dear" She seemed to address close friends this way, I've finally noticed, "Idol's death is bothering you?"

"Yea."

"You should be happy, for him, he won't have to deal with that illness anymore."

I stared through the fountain, "I am. It's painful to lose a loved one. Yet I feel like I haven't mourned properly."

"There's no proper way." she shrugged. "We cope the way we can. It's different for everypony."

"I suppose you're right. Funerals aren't very common in Clackerton but when they do occur, it's usually just the immediate family that shows."

"Understandable. None too many in Ponyville, either."

Statuesque's tired face caught Rarity's attention as he awoke from his nap. He circled around on the bench a bit and slept some more. We headed back to the suite with him in tow. I glanced at the stone again. Part of me wishes that Idol was lying about his family but I've no reason not to trust him.

#91
Winter. Day 98. Morning. Manehatten.

The three of us packed our belongings yesterday in preparation for todays leave. Statuesque gave one last goodbye to his friends at the foster home. After that we went back to the suite. I kind of felt my heart sink, knowing that I was leaving Idol here instead of bringing him home with me. Then again, I have the same feeling when I leave Clackerton because of work. Anxiousness, perhaps?

Before heading to be last night I painstakingly copied the letter Idol had given me, his writing had improved dramatically. I wasn't sure half the words were real or some concoction. I then attached it to another letter, a request rather, to Celestia. Asking for some assistance. I muttered the words and sent the two pieces of parchment off in a dull blaze of red. Doubt crossed my mind a moment, but I threw it aside.

As it happened, I turned to hear and see Rarity creek the door to my room open. “What was that?” her curiosity piqued.

“A letter to Celestia.” I answered honestly

“You send reports to her too?” I cocked my head, confused. “My fault, I've forgotten that you haven't heard about those.” She eased the door shut. The hinges lightly creaked and the slide clacked softly. “It started with Twilight, whom you've met, she'd send a 'friendship report' off to Princess Celestia at least once a week. Then the rest of the group started to. Spike was our messenger.”

“You all still writing them, then?”

“No, I'm sure Twilight is but I fear it's more a chore for her now. Being a princess and all.”

“Jealous?”

She burned me a bit with her eyes, “A bit, yes. While I do partake in noble habits I do prefer the company of less refined” she paused, “ponies.”

“My father always said that it's always nice to have friends of all sorts. Rich or poor, dumb or smart, royalty or common.” Advice he instilled a variety of times when he had the chance.

“Your father sounds like a wise pony.”

“He can be. Other times he's not so smart.” I set the quill down and stacked what paper I had left to pack. “Anyways, was there something else?”

“I just want be sure you're doing all right, darling.” Again with the darling. “With how much he told me, us, about you, it seems like it was going to hurt a lot more than what you're showing.”

Perhaps I was, but perhaps I was tired of mourning already. “I don't know, honestly. The night I wept in your chest, I think, wore me out. Relating to what you said yesterday, I think I'm figuring out my mourning.” I sighed. “Part of me knew he was going to die at some point, but the problem was never knowing when. Part of me felt a weight lift off my shoulders and subsequently feels guilty for it. It's mixed, really”

She took a moment to understand what I said. “Very conflicting.”

I drew myself from the desk to the bed and began to reach for the lamp. My hoof suddenly restrained by Rarity's magic. “Um, Rarity?” I rolled over to see her.

“Could you tell me more about him? His backstory, I mean.”

So I told her. From his date of birth, which she knew. How he and I met. She surprisingly related to the wolf that had saved me, saying that she had seen it when he came through. Also remarked that Twilight had trained him in magic. I continued, telling her a bit about his incestuous family, the cause of his illness, and their apparent smug habits. I told her a quick story about the time when Idol imitated me when he first met my mother. She laughed at that. Told about his last request from him to me too. Despite my initial hesitation of the subject. She said she would've loved to help but with Statuesque in her hooves now, she had her schedule far fuller. I chuckled at that, then told her about my sister and how she suited her name.

The conversation came to a tiring close. It'd been awhile since I've winded myself talking. She enjoyed it as much as I did but she was concerned about his family issue. I told her not to worry much, if something happened, she'd find out one way or anything. I'm just hoping that it all goes off without a hitch.

Statuesque entered the room in the midst of the silence and tugged at Rarity because he had a nightmare. Without a word, she thanked me with her eyes and I accepted it with a nod.

#92
Winter. Day 98. Evening. Ponyville

I've opted to stay in Ponyville for tonight, once again taking to Twilight's guest bedroom. It was almost nostalgic being back here after that storm. It was nice to see the snow here without it burying the houses. Thatched roofs and painted wood for houses, streets of dirt or stone. The layout of Ponyville seemed rather disorganized as if it everypony had built their homes wherever they pleased. They had plenty of room to do so, Applejack's family orchard is plenty proof of that.

Twilight heard the story of Idol and Statuesque from Rarity. Twilight didn't sulk too much about the story, leaving her condolences with the three of us but congratulating Rarity on the adoption. Rarity and I seemed to neglect telling her about Idol's family issue though. I don't know why. Maybe we both felt it was a secret kept between us.

On another note, Rarity's younger sister, Sweetie Belle, was excited to have a nephew, despite not being related by blood. It's been a good night for all of us however, I still have the thought of the request I sent to Celestia and Idol's family crap on my mind. I've got my own family on my mind too.

As for getting home, I want to use my wings for once. I need to stop by Fluttershy's first though, to ask her a quick question about what species of eagle Yukon is. I've found a decent reference book to use, but the long train ride has left me a bit exhausted for some reason. Maybe it's the thought of Idol's leaving nagging me still. I've thought about the time he left Clackerton again. I thought it was a dumb idea, but that was my selfishness speaking out at the time. I came to terms with him leaving then, seems I'll have to repeat that again. I really don't want to, it's painful.

My eyes seem to be welling up again.

Chapter 6: Chasing Storms

#93
Winter. Day 99. Noon. Everfree Forest.

A beautiful day when I got up in Ponyville this morning. I've received a response from Celestia, telling me that she had exactly two soldiers to spare for my endeavors. They would meet me at Clackerton's front gate by tomorrow. I wondered who they were, but I also had a good guess as to who they could be: Charger and Wrecker. Celestia was most displeased with the situation I revealed to her however, it was something she could not make a big scene of something small and outside of her ruling.

I sought out Rarity after packing up a welcome back gift, and a parting gift, from Pinkie Pie. Pinkie was everpony's friend it seemed. I hope that habit doesn't get her in trouble later in life, it could have a devastating consequence. I've a feeling that she may never move out from here though. I found Rarity at her boutique, actually a bit relieved that Sweetie Belle had taken Statuesque off of her hooves for the day.

There was a reason I sought her out, to look for some earrings that would match the neckband I described to her as a reference. Fortunately, she had a few already made, but they reserved for another customer, so she'd have to craft another set. Said that I would have to wait at least two hours for her to finish it. I agreed to pay the price but she insisted that I get them for free using what I told her about Idol as a fee. I don't remember too well, but I think her eyes weren't as puffy yesterday. The only other time I saw them like this was at Idol's funeral. Perhaps she broke down again, much like I did last night.

I went over Fluttershy's in the meantime, almost had to ask for directions. A strange friend of hers had stopped by, Discord. A draconequus with an odd assortment of parts. Arm of a lion, eagle claw, buffalo leg, red dragon tail, a feathered wing and a bat wing, head of a goat, and two different ram antlers. Eyes of yellow and red and a single fang. I'm not sure if there's any one way to quickly describe the guy. Apparently came back from a vacation well past the badlands far south of here.

Discord is a trickster. I've a feeling though that his antic of changing all the plate ware to walk around on their own is only a tenth of his power. As it turned out, he had only turned good thanks to Fluttershy's kindness. A story they, in turns, told me. In all the tales I've read, there's never many that turn the villain into a good guy or the hero.

Only after the story was over, did I ask her about Yukon and give her the reference book I snagged from Twilight's library. The closest match was a golden eagle, brown with gold streaks, rough yellow for his beak and legs. The only thing that didn't match up was his current size. A golden eagle might be as tall as a pony's leg but Yukon was starting to get just as tall as my foreleg and his wing span just as short as mine used to be.

There was one other possibility of what species Yukon could be, a Haast eagle. A rare species that doesn't live in this region. They were well known on a large island where they were the top predator but thanks to that, food became an issue and the species slowly died out. Dwindled to endangered levels of population. It's odd how Yukon could've wound up all the way out here, especially at the age where he couldn't fly. I wonder if there was some magic shenanigans involved with it.

Yukon and I took our leave again, returned the book to Twilight's library and headed back to The Carousel Boutique. More time had passed than I had originally intended but jewel crafting is something that takes time to perfect well. Apricot let me know that much.

I opened the door, chiming the bell that hung just above it. It was a small little thing, its pitch high and piercing. I had Yukon wait outside so he wouldn't knock something over by accident. Rarity was excited for my temporary return much to my surprise. I didn't really know what to make of it. She gave me the earrings, gift wrapped too, and a final hug goodbye. I almost didn't want to leave thanks to her generosity. Not to mention her emotional support she'd given after Idol passed away. I thanked her for that. Though, I feel that she could use some emotional support too. I just hope she doesn't find it in the wrong place.

Once I opened the door to leave, I saw Statuesque standing on the other side, reaching for it himself with Sweetie Belle standing behind him. I lowered my head and told him that I was leaving, we hugged too. Sweetie Belle did as well, despite not knowing me very well.

I took to the sky after that, Yukon followed after me. He was pretty quick to take to the air himself. I wonder if he's practiced in the time we weren't together. We stopped in the middle of the Everfree Forest for a bit of a break. The lack of using my new wings have already made the muscles sore and left me breathless. Yukon had no problem with flying as far as we did. I hope we can get to Clackerton tonight, I'd like to get Idol's letter delivered to the mayor as soon as I can.

#94
Winter. Day 99. Late Evening. Clackerton.

I've come home to a warm welcome from my family. It seemed that I walked in as soon as dinner was being prepared. Mother was still sick on the couch though. A shame, really as I thought she would've gotten better by the time I had gotten back. Father and Busy were making dinner instead. I placed my bags in my room and had Yukon stay there as well.

Dinner went over well enough. We ate in the living room instead of the dining room, as a way to keep the family together. Busy asked about my visit to Manehatten and to which I answered with the fun that the three, four in a way, of us had. Eventually I stopped eating when I got to the point where I had to say it. When Idol passed away due to his illness and the subsequent fallout of it all. The only thing to make a sound after that, was the crackling flames from the stoney fireplace. Busy apologized, I told her it was okay, assuring her that I would have to tell her eventually. Father wasn't shaken by the news, he had known who Idol was, but he didn't know him.

I hope Celestia keeps her word about the soldiers. I still have a few days left until I have to start reporting to work again. I hope this all goes over smoothly. It'll be big news, for all of us.

#95
Winter. Day 100. Late Morning. Clackerton.

I got up earlier than normal today, before the sun even rose past the horizon. I found myself staring at the translated poem once again, as well as my mother's pocket watch and lockbox. What the shit am I going to do with these now? I sighed and proceeded to copy down the last two parts of the poem. Celestia will need to know about it in order for some of the volumes to make sense to her. I sent it off and carried on with breakfast. Left a note saying where I was too.

After that, I personally visited the mayor. A task that took far longer than I thought it would. I had to wait for the office to open and even then, I had to wait for proper permission from the two guards that stood before the front door. Then I waited in the lobby for who knows how long. Then I saw the mayor, sitting behind her desk of glossy mahogany. On it was his name, ink well and quill, and stacks of papers I certainly wouldn't like to read through. Always kept a bow on his wall though, a prized possession of his. He was one of the few that deserved every absolute respect in Clackerton. I wonder why Idol's family hasn't tried touching him yet.

“Most ponies tend to make appointments, Letter. However, most of don't make them this early.” he eyed me with a piercing stare.

“I can't imagine why, Mayor Archer.” I tried humoring him to make his stare go away.

His eyes remained unwavered. “I see your point. My secretary tells me you have some important information to give me?” Without a word, he received the letter. He opened it and darted his eyes quickly across the paper. “Son, you realize that this could be conspiracy theory from this friend of yours?”

“I've no reason to doubt him, sir. He was born and raised by that family. He's even asked one of the guards to investigate the matter while he was gone.”

He set the paper down, “This guard, does he have a name?”

“Dirty Dirt, sir.”

“Ah, that lethargic one. I can see why he'd ask him.”

“Sir?”

“Nothing, son. Anyways, since this is an safety concern for the entire town, I'll be asking that guard of Idol's to disclosed whatever information he can. It shouldn't take too much longer. I'll let you know the results, before the news hits the paper.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You may leave now, Letter, and I hope for your sake, this isn't an elaborate ploy.”

“I'm positive it is not. Idol did mention that they could hold the entire town hostage, but not how.”

“Perhaps Dirt will know. Go on, son. I've work to do and this will take time.”

I nodded and left, then headed back home.

#96
Winter. Day 100. Evening. Clackerton

I went over to Apricot's after visiting the mayor. She was more than happy to see me again. More so when I showed her the earrings that I had Rarity make. She darted upstairs after I gave them to her. Then came back down in her caparison and even did her long mane up into a bun. I was a bit confused by what she was doing until she took me down to Market Street and dragged me into a new photography center. It'd opened up just after I had left for Manehatten. I was a bit nervous about getting my picture taken, she was not. We wound up getting three different pictures taken: two separate, and the third together. We'd have to wait awhile before the photographs were processed, so Apricot took me over to Palatial Manor, where she'd become friends with the owner through a piece of jewelry he wanted commissioned from her. Funnily enough, he was the first pony that I delivered mail to when I took the extended service job.

He and his wife both served us lunch as a thank you, for the commission and for Abner, who I've nearly forgotten about. He went on to tell me his part of the story, in the most humorous fashion possible. Unfortunately, his part ended early; he'd been turned to stone by the curse of a temple they had to raid. Well, not so much to raid as to re-enchant an ancient sword nearly the size of him. He carried on the story, some details fuzzy from the expanse of time. A bull of sorts was what cursed, not the temple itself. As to why it did, he couldn't recall.

When I asked about how he was freed from his stone prison, he thanked Prudence. He'd already been collecting some of the materials required to dispel the curse. Abner and Charger had finished that task for him. Although, Charger was the only one who came out to give him the potion, which he thought was kind of strange. Whisk was just happy to get back home, married Rosamond and remained here. There was one companion of theirs that I hadn't met yet, Marina. She tended to an aquarium out in Canterlot and it's kept her busy.

Our story ended with a puff of magic that alerted Apricot that our photographs were done. Less time than I thought they would be. We said our goodbyes to one another and went on our way. Palatial Manor was nestled into one of the mountains many crevices and gave a good view of Clackerton from here. As one of the first buildings here, it sat outside the main wall. Still no contest for the view from clock tower.

Apricot and I went back into town and found ourselves in front of the photography studio again. The images came out better than I had imagined. Thankfully I wasn't wearing a silly smile of some sort and my eyes weren't half closed either. I got lost in Apricot's photo that captured her mane in full, delicate eyes, and her subtle smile.

“Letter.” She nudged me. “I'm not that captivating, am I?”

“Oh, what? Well, I was just looking. I mean...” What was I so flustered for? Even now I can feel my cheeks turning red. I took a quick, deep breath and straightened my head. “Yes, you are.”

She smiled so widely then, it still haunts me, in a way. A happy haunting. I took the photograph of the two of us, folded it up and put it in my locket. After she paid for the photographs, which were relatively cheap, she dragged me back to her house for dinner. I was happy to come along, but I've never seen her work something out like this before. She'd planned the entire day for when I got back.

The dinner went over quite well. Most of discussing the recent family reunion of theirs. Eventually, the topic came down to Idol. Apricot asked when the table was silent and as much as I didn't want to spoil the mood, I had to breaks the news somehow.

Apricot lowered her ears and frowned and stared at her food. She kept quiet until she pushed her chair back, lumbered over and held me close.

I had introduced her to Idol.

She began to sob, quietly.

The three of us were great friends, we always cheered each other on. Supported each other when we hard difficulty in our work, be it school or our hobbies. We looked out for each other too.

Her tears fell on me, she sniffed.

Idol had helped her find the suppliers for her jewel work and helped critiquing anything she made.

Her parents came over and hugged me too. They didn't know Idol all that well, but they knew the name.

I hope that this was the last of his fallout. Of course, I've no idea how far his reputation precedes him.

#97
Winter. Day 101. Morning. Clackerton.

After the little spiel at Apricot's last night and saying our goodbyes to one another, I headed for the front gate. Celestia said that they should be there by tonight. The moon was already lighting up the clear night, just a quarter left until full. Made the snow glisten.

Just down the mountain I could see a shift in the treeline. From it, three figures. One struck me as familiar, but at that distance, difficult to tell. Only when they got close was I able to tell who was who. Zecora, leading Charger and Wrecker up the well traveled path. We greeted each other, I invited Zecora to stay in Clackerton for the night, the temperature was beginning to drop. She agreed and as a place to stay, Charger offered to help with that.

I wound up leading them through town. Streets were almost empty this time of night. Ponies usually turning in for the night unless they were spending their evening at the inn or a bar. I'd forgotten how big Wrecker was, his steps could easily put cracks in the road. Bore his full serpentine armor and the fearsome skull helmet from the beast it came from. I wonder how he got that armor.

Before we got to the gate separating the town from Palatial Manor, Charger stopped in his tracks. I turned around and remembered something he said the last time he was here. “Ready to come back home, Charger?”

Sighing heavily, “Ready as I'll ever be. Just been a long time, is all.”

“I'm sure Whisk would love to cook you something to eat. Your sister misses you too.”

He smiled and continued on ahead of me, catching up to Wrecker and Zecora as they made their way to the front door. I trailed behind as the guards closed the gate behind me.

A delightful and rather late dinner between all of us last night. Still, I would've liked Apricot to come here with me, but she was in bed by then. Charger and Whisk god drunk beyond each others, our, comprehension and passed out at the table. Rosamond took Whisk to their room and Wrecker took Charger to their own. It was just Zecora and I left at the table by then. Their rather old butler, Jeeves- whose name I found out then, busied himself with cleaning up what was left on the table.

I found myself leaning back in a chair, staring up at the ceiling high and vaulted in a single arc that stretched across the rest of the manor. My focus of it pulled away when Zecora asked me about my request for help. I put the chair back down to its four legs and listened. Apparently Charger had mentioned it during their walk through Everfree. I explained the story behind it, as short as I could. A friend whose family wanted nothing more than power, willing to overthrow the mayor to do it.

Zecora took the story well and told me that I was doing the right thing. I agreed, but some part of me still doubts if it's even real. I guess the mystery of it all is a bit dumbfounding. His family certainly knew how to cover their tracks if he's right about all this.

I invited Zecora to stay at my house, instead of staying some place more unfamiliar to her. She agreed, speaking in her usual rhyme. I lead her through town and to my house, the living room still dimly lit by candlelight. It was to my surprise that Zecora had already known my mother. She'd gone through her home town at one point, got to know the village leader and his daughter, Zecora. They chatted the night away, in whispers and hushed laughter. I listened for a time, seeing Zecora actually get embarrassed by some silly antics of hers when she was a young filly. One moment in particular for her was when she spilled a bit of a potion on a butterfly, which immediately grew some thirty times its original size and got tangled up in the tent she was using.

I went to bed sometime during that conversation, tired from a rather long day. I went to bed with a smile.

#98
Winter. Day 103. Morning. Clackerton

The mayor visited me yesterday, as he said he would. As it turns out, Idol was right and his informant had been in there long enough to distinguish and point out who was who amongst them. The leader and Idol's oldest brother was actually Flight Gear's assistant dock manager. Even went under a different name to avoid suspicion. Which greatly explains massive amounts of shipments unaccounted for. It's odd though, that Flight Gear hadn't caught on. The information he received was well manipulated before he even got his hooves on it.

Dirt was also able to point out those in the guard was part of this whole conspiracy as well. A shame really, considering most of those who were were well respected for their achievements. Others included one of the auctioneers, a few store owners in the food and blacksmithing departments, and lastly, Mayor Archer's own assistant. Idol's family on the other hoof, kept themselves locked away somewhere. Troublesome, all of it. There was a spell to prevent eavesdropping, but his assistant was smarter than that. He'd probably developed one of his own to both counter and record everything he's done down to every breath.

Dirt looked stupid, but he was clever. It was easy for him to fool the ones who recruited ponies into the recruiters. Using both his low rank and low wealth and their promises of the opposite made it possible. Mayor Archer said that if this goes through without a fight, it'll be a miracle. If they've caught on to our plans, then things are going to be even more hectic. The chances of that are high. I don't know what plan they have in mind, but I hope it works out.

Zecora was still in town, I guided her around Market Street for a bit yesterday before the mayor had come along. I introduced her to Apricot as well, they both talked jewelry for awhile. Citing differences between our cultures and similarities as well.

Another long day out, and mostly uneventful, before I went to bed again. Today I awoke to nightmares of nothing but fires and their piercing fire under snow and lightning.

#99
Winter. Day 104. Evening? Lost and injured. Bloodied and hungry. Vast place of snow, cold and alone.

I've nestled myself in what twigs and branches I could, breaking them free from the evergreen trees that line this vast plane of snow. I can't even see a mountain nor the sun from here. Clouds span the sky thicker than my mother's quilts, gray and unmoving. The wind doesn't bother blowing either. It all happened quickly enough, but it was also long and grueling. Strange how that works.

I suppose I should start from the first event, An explosion right under Auction Square. Followed by a mass of infighting between the guards still loyal and the ones defecting. Another from the air ships that were sitting at the docks. A third one went off just behind the mayor's home. I can still remember the screams of those running away and those who were trapped or laid across the cobblestone either dead or gruesomely injured. The shaking of the earth, I can still feel it.

Busy found me along Market Street, she'd been running through the crowds to find me, trying not to vomit from the sheer sight of things. We sprinted home through the crowds of those coming help and fleeing. When we got back to the house, we were greeted by a ravaged living room and a missing mother. I'm not sure what came over me then, panic, rage, or heroics but I was not going to let them take my mother. I went to my room and found everything in tact. I grabbed the lockbox, pocket watch, my necklace with its locket and Parchment Stone, all the notes I had of The Designer's Script and the last volume. I packed everything into my saddlebags as quickly as I could, not caring about the weight. I packed my scarf too. The lockbox was keeping my mother's location a secret from her other half, I couldn’t have them taking her away to places unknown.

Before I bolted back out the door, I grabbed the photograph of Apricot and I and stuffed that in my bag as well. Yukon followed me out the door as well. I met Zecora on my way down the stairs, I told her and Busy to help the wounded. I knew Zecora had some first aid experience and Busy trusted my order. I could only wonder where my father was. I know he and his construction crew are helping all of those they can. I hope the town doctor is on our side, at least.

Parting from my home once more, I took to finding my way among fire and rubble to get to Apricot's home. I wanted to know that she was safe. Yukon followed me the best he could. The smoke and dust was hampering his flight. So he took to perching himself on my back. I managed to get to Apricot's house and luckily her house hadn't been damaged by anything. I found her scared and hiding with her parents in their living room.

“Apricot!” I shouted over another explosion erupted. I saw her mouth 'what' and replied, “I need you to keep an eye on Yukon for me.” She was always good with animals, I knew she wouldn't be moving from here though. She nodded as I pulled him off my back. I looked him in the eyes, “Yukon, stay here with Apricot and behave yourself, okay?” I don't know how that bird understood what I said, but he listened. I gave Apricot a hug before rushing over to Palatial Manor.

At least I was until I ran into Charger and Wrecker fighting off a few defects. Charger took them down with well placed kicks to pressure points while Wrecker just outright charged the lot of them. Spears and swords held no will against his full suit of armor. They filled me in on the situation. Idol sure was right about his family and their conspirators holding the town hostage, but this had become more than that. One the conspirators got a little antsy while they were busting some of the higher ups, pulled the detonation chord that triggered the first set of explosives. They managed to stop a majority of the others by containing the explosions with magic, no easy task I imagine. The mayor is somewhere safe, they didn't want to disclose the location.

When I turned away from Charger and Wrecker, I saw that the clock tower was still standing tall, pierced by a single plank of wood and barely scratched. I smiled for a moment at that. The three of us continued on, going towards the epicenter of the most recent explosion. It'd taken out the restaurant that Apricot and I had our first date at. That saddened me. We pulled out some ponies from the rubble there. Twenty, if memory serves me right. All of them lightly injured, thankfully. Charger applied first aid to those that he could and told them to remain there.

Rosamond and Whisk joined us on our way toward the initial explosion. Makeshift beds and tables were already being made. Most of them, if not all of them, were crying out in one way or another. I could feel my steps slow and I felt locked away in a cage, forced to watch from afar. I lost my eyes, in a sense, then. Everything was in such a chaos there. Fillies and colts were huddled and confused, scared. Some of them lost stood in place, crying out for their parents. A few tugged at remained. Another glance I shot, there was the opposite of that; parents after their children.

Charger snapped me out of that daze. I found myself sitting at the corner, where Market Street met Square, thinking about how this could all be my fault. I didn't want that to happen but I had no way of knowing that it would either. I sat there with an empty mind for the longest time, shaken by the sight. I thought the Golden Path in Light Fringe was bad, but this was far worse.

The chaos of noise settled down in the late afternoon. The winds began to get chilly. I was still sitting there at that corner, mindless and empty. The dead were being carried out by their loved ones, families by their friends, guards by guards. I don't believe there was a single pony who wasn't injured. No one had seen my mother. She found me with Yukon by her side. I got up and hugged her and cried what tears I could, happy that she was alive and unharmed. She did the same for me. Oh if she could see me now.

An odd wind began to pick up and in the valley below, the groan of gears began to sound. I pulled away from Apricot and flew to the top of the wall and surveyed the valley. A large set of doors began to pry open the mountainside, revealing the pointed bow of a ship. The doors crumbled and collapsed under their own weight, tumbling into the valley. As it slowly pulled out, I recognized the design was similar to Flight Gear's ship, the Goshawk. Which of course, had bad news written all over it.

The sky began to darken too, the clouds began to spiral. She found mother.

I flew from the wall and toward Flight Gear's workshop. I hoped he was just as safe as Apricot was. To my luck, he was, and so was my workshop. My guess is that they wanted to use his workshop should they be successful. Fortunately they weren't, unfortunate that it cost us.

I found Flight Gear and his wife, Albedo, tending to injured dock workers. I found him sticking with one stallion and tightly holding one of his hooves. That stallion shaking so violently it killed him. I saw that stallion's eyes, they were so lost and confused. Had burns all over his body, some parts showed charred bone. I think it was my curiosity that kept me staring. I remember the last couple words he muttered, “Mother, I'm coming home.”

Flight let go of the stallion's hoof and looked up at me, “Your eyes just like that guys.” I didn't answer, but I know what he was getting at now. I told him what I needed from him. He gave me the key to the chest that it was in. I found it behind the counter in his workshop. It was difficult to put it on, as it was the first time. Yet I was faster. The cold metal felt familiar and it didn't interfere with my saddlebags at all. I went out the door and back to the spot on the wall. The ship began to leave the valley, making its way north. I turned around and saw Apricot was still standing there where I left her. I flew back to her as the first drops of snow began to fall.

“Apricot, I have to leave again.” She nodded,we embraced in a hug and short kiss then I turned to Yukon. “Yukon,” I pulled the scarf from my bag and tore a piece of it off. “If I don't come back in a few days time, look for me.” I wrapped and tied the torn piece around his rough leg. I gave Apricot another long hug, tighter this time. “I love you, Apricot.”

“I love you too, Letter. Go, before it's too late.”

And I did. I took to the sky, started up the turbine on my equipment with the press of a small button and began to hear it whir. I flew towards the ship, just above the trees in the valley. Hopefully a stealthy approach would let me board the ship unnoticed. But no. I was fired on by streams of magic coming from the incomplete back end of the ship. My gear allowed me to avoid nearly all of it. A few hits smoldered my wings but I recovered quickly and eventually closed in. Crash landing into a batch of unwilling guards, I turned to face the others who charged at me.

I didn't know how to fight against their magic and spears. Instead of fighting, I ran. It seemed none of the defects knew a spell to catch somepony. The layout was similar to the Goshawk as well, so I guessed my way to the deck of the ship. When I looked to the bridge, I saw the stallion who was in charge of this whole mess, Idol's brother. A unicorn dull black and blue

“Where's my mother?” I yelled.

He let one of his deckhands take the wheel. “So you're the young and foolish one that told the mayor. Letter Bee, if I recall correctly. You've worked up quite the reputation. Freeing the Light Fringe Kingdom from its maelstrom. Doing the same with the recent one over Ponyville. Even considered as a royal messenger for Celestia.” He circled around me, “Do you see what your friend, my bastard son, has wrought upon your home? Nothing but despair, pain, and cruel misery.” His eyes met mine. “Yet, here you are asking the villain where your mother is.” He circled me again. “ You realize that in the span of your life, I've studied lore after lore, every citizen of Clackerton, alive or dead, and every ship that came through those docks. Yet your mother's history was a wild goose, a red herring.”

He stopped in front of me again, picked me up with his magic, encasing me in a ball of light blue. The little wisps of magic appeared again, they were dark in color. “I've monitored everything and made absolutely sure Idol didn't know. When I found out you, a pegasus, was using magic I became curious. Then I found out you were sending letters to Celestia.” I remember my eyes widening then. “You should lock your bedroom windows more often, boy.” I felt his magic squeeze me, I winced. He motioned to one of his cronies, who went beneath the deck and dragged out my mother wrapped in rope, silenced and blinded by cloth. Idol's brother took off the cloth and revealed to me her battered face. I struggled against his magic only to have it press in more. “Don't do that, you little spick.” he glared “She put up a bit of a fight in her state, used magic even. Very weak magic.” Changed he ball to chains and bound me to the deck. I managed a closer look at mother, she was awake but extremely weary. “Unlike my son, you were brave enough to come to your mother's aid. He was such a coward.”

“He wasn't a coward, you spineless chicken.”

He growled and raised his voice. “You saw what his bravery did. It brought nothing but despair and death. I would have brought the entire town into prosperity but you had to go and ruin it!” He raised my chin with more magic. “But now I have a new key.” He pulled a sword from a defected guard. “That is you and your mother.” He set the sword's tip on my mother's cheek. “It'll be just you, should you resist. Now, what will it be?”

I saw mother mouth a few words and smiled. He thinks the lockbox is a metaphor. He fooled himself! “Could you unbind me first? I can't use magic like you think. I was merely using a magic stone, nothing more, nothing less.”

Somehow that was enough to convince him. “Good.” He pulled the sword away from her cheek and smiled widely. “It would be unfortunate if I didn't have a pony to translate.” He unbound me and began to say something else. I tackled him.

The first spear bounced off my flight equipment. A second pierced my right wing and grazed my chest. Third one through my back leg. “You've no idea what you've done, you arrogant bastard.”

I recalled the words my mother said that one night and tried repeating them. The lockbox burst out of my bag and opened up, unveiling a dark purple cloud of glimmering stars. I felt weight lift from the spears and I pulled away from Idol's brother, the spears vanishing from me. I saw fear glaze over him. The winds were beginning to pick up and snow fell heavier. Then, from the clouds, descended her other half just as ghostly as the cloud. They merged in a swirling mist and ran their entire essence into my mother.

When the light faded, the storm vanished. All the guards and Idol's brother disintegrated into ash, screaming as they did. When I turned to see my mother, I saw her in her original form, an alicorn far larger than Celestia. “You've saved Clackerton, my son.” her voice rang in familiar echo. “But now, you must prevent the Rebirth. Seek out The Designs, they will give you the answer that I do not know. The Designers-” She collapsed and struggled to stand back up. “My son,” she smiled and began to cry. “I love you, so very much.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“Please, forgive me.” Several spears of magic formed up around her. She fought it, pulling her head away and sending the spears elsewhere. She muttered magic words to fight it too, dissolving a few more. It looked like she was in far more pain than she had ever been before. Screaming, being caged and stripped of everything she ever was to me. A gentle, kind, and loving mother far wiser than the sky.

“I forgive you, mother.”

“Thank you.”

I was then blinded by a flash of light. Thrust through air, pulled and stretched beyond belief. It was entirely painless until I emptied my stomach into the snow. I felt zapped of any energy. After retching, I lied still for a bit to regain myself. Turned off Gold Arrow's whirring engine and took it off, before it could freeze to my coat. Pulled the scarf from my bag and ripped off another chunk, wrapped it around my leg to cover the wound. My wing will be fine, as it only took out a few feathers. I loosely tucked the scarf back into the bag and for what could be the last time, sent a short letter off to Celestia informing her of what had happened.

It was hard enough to walk with a gaping hole in my leg. I managed limped flight several times but full fledged flight was nothing but pain. Perhaps the magic ball Idol's brother encased me in had done more harm than the spears. Maybe the teleportation did something too.

All this snow is reminding me of when I trekked from Canterlot to Ponyville. Just now, I thought I saw the shadow of something, about the size of a bear. Whatever it is, it's keeping me awake out of worry. But my eyes are far too heavy to keep them open much longer.

#100
Winter. Day 115. Noon. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

I managed to survive my ordeal. Not without some help of course. The local doctor, a dark yellow unicorn with hair to the floor and short yet full grown disclosed to me how I got here. A couple of the town's gatherers found my trail of blood, without it, I would've froze to death. They picked me up and dragged me here. The kind doctor, Bolted Cloth, has been tending me since. Told me where I was too. A place known as Anchor's Inn in a town called Vesta.

It was still pretty cold here. Everything appeared to have been constructed from both trimmed and fitted timber insulated by the snow itself. Reinforced igloos, in a sense. Light was provided by glass lanterns hung by black rope jumping across the ceiling. There wasn't a window to be seen anywhere, but there was a clock and a calender, thankfully. Eleven bloody days of sleep and not a dream to remember. My bags were sitting underneath the calender, unopened. Thankful for that, too.

Aside from that, I can't seem to feel any pain. Guess Bolt has me under a spell of some sort. I am glad I'm able to write, at least. I just hope I'll be able to leave soon.

#101
Winter. Day 115. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

I've come to learn that Vesta was a once thriving place in the north had its population dwindled by the freezing snow. Those who've remained are the few that run the place. Innkeeper Bar Bill is also the mayor. Bolt is the doctor and trade master. But the two twin brothers who saved me, Fisher and Hisser, only gathered food and made it into something edible. There are more ponies here, the doctor assured me, but they rarely come out of their homes because of the weather.

I haven't seen the innkeeper yet, but I've seen the two brothers, practically twins. Both of them ice blue with light brown mane and tail, pitch black freckles, and white hooves. Their mane and tail were the same too, short and fluffy; their beards too. Just a bit taller than the doctor. The only difference was their eyes, one was blind due to cataracts and the other had dark brown eyes speckled green. Fisher being the blind one.

They brought me some food earlier too, rather silently. Hisser guided his brother around with a bell around his neck. Fisher's ears would constantly shift to listen for that bell. When the bell was quiet, Fisher would begin to mumble a bit, Hisser would make a hissing sound with his teeth. They communicated with me only with gestures. Nudged me with the plate, pointed at the food and motioned his hoof to his mouth. Had Bolt forgotten to mention something about that?

I ate what I could of the mash of grass and grain, spiced by a bit of pepper. Gave me water to drink too. Kept it contained in some sort of thick insulator. Whatever it is, it certainly kept the water inside from freezing. Hisser ate his food first, then Fisher. Hisser had to help his brother eat though. He missed his mouth a couple times, almost stuffed the food up his nose once. Then they left without a word, leaving my portion with me.

#102
Winter. Day 116. Morning. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Turns out that everypony here speaks a different language than I do. Bolt learned what I spoke from some words I said in my sleep. He'd already known Equestrian and three other languages. Found it a useful trait to have. Vesta used to see a lot of travel too and the sick and injured was an unfortunate byproduct of it all. I've been getting the itching thought that the may be another reason behind the decrease in population. Bolt pointed out that spring used to be a thing here, shorter than most though.

I've had an irritating itching since last night. The cast and bandages on my leg were changed and Bolt has been lowering my pain medication to keep me a bit more livid. Hes been resorting to localized forms of medicines. He still hasn't asked how I wound up in this condition though. Perhaps he's waiting until I'm a bit less bedridden.

I asked for my bags when he was doing this last night, wanting to check to see if everything that was there, was there. He remarked that I had no reason to be paranoid but he understood my concern. He left me alone to rummage through my belongings. I could hear Fisher ask him something in his hoarse voice on the other side of the door. No telling what.

First, I pulled out my necklace, the scratched chain of gold flakes revealing the silver underneath. The interwoven sky blue petals of Olwen's Lily had lost their soft blue glow and had begun to wilt. The attached locket had a few scratches and the fire opal Apricot had insetted had lost its polish. I nudged the lever to open the locket, the picture of her was still in there; both the old one and the new one. I hope she's okay, rather faint of heart. I left the locket open and placed the necklace on the shamble looking nightstand.

Pulled out the Parchment Stone next. It was warm compared to the gold surface around it. Simple leaf engravings on either side. It was meant to be attached to the locket with a clip but I had taken it off for easier carrying. The stone itself was a bright ruby, imperfect by pink streaks. A warm stone meant that Celestia had sent letters. Surprising that the flame they came in didn't burn a hole through the bag.

So I dug through the bag and found the letters. I read through each one. One for every other day I had been gone. The first letter was from Celestia, regarding the temporary evacuation of Clackerton. The injured were treated by a force of doctors and the dead were properly buried and mourned. Tombstones carved and placed with every name. Celestia mentioned that it had been some time since an incident like this had occurred. She didn't mention what. On a lighter note, she had met the rest of my family and Apricot. My father was still alive, but he was battered by debris.

Second letter involved more burials, a noted concern of my whereabouts She'd found the remains of the ship that I had chased after. After interrogating one of the defect guards, a rather shaken fellow, she disclosed what he had to say. He was one of few that had managed to survive both the disintegration and the crash however, he had been below deck at the time. Leaving the answer of what happened above deck a mystery. She could feel the remnants of powerful magic sting the air around the entire ship. A trait that left some of her guards temporarily paralyzed. It was also a strong indication of exceedingly powerful teleportation magic. She found the lock box too, which remained untouched by its surroundings.

The third letter remarked the case about the bombs that had been placed under Clackerton had all been removed and dismantled. More burials were made and more injured were recovered from the debris of more homes. The mayor had also unfortunately perished after a defect razed his home. He'd been killed before the fire started.

The last three letters were relatively short. More updates on what happened, the total of those who passed, fifty in total, a tenth of the population. Cleaning and rebuilding had begun, my father playing a major roll in that. She met Dream Seer and Apparition as well. Twilight had visited out of her own concern as well. Visiting the crash site to try and determine exactly what spells were used. Unfortunately, the static had disrupted the magic remnants to a level unrecognizable. The last letter she wrote appeared to be under the impression that I had died. Disheartening, really.

Put the letters aside and pulled out my bloodied scarf followed by the potion Zecora had given me. I smiled at it and pondered when I would need the thing. Next was Gold Arrow, my flight equipment. It was in as good condition as it could be, aside from the large gouge left by the spear. I was lucky that it hadn't run up further and pierced through my neck. I've done a crazy thing but I have to solve the problem now too. I pulled out the fourth volume, kind of glad I brought it. It'll be nice to have something to read, as dull as it is.

Idol's kidnapping of my mother was unexpected. I do remember my mother saying that night I asked her about the poems and the volumes, that it was only a matter or time before her other half found her. Yet I wonder, what exactly was the purpose of the lockbox then, other than concealing her location? The magic contained inside she had at her command but even then it's questionable.

Time for breakfast it seems. Bolt just asked if everything I had checked out and I confirmed that everything was. I'll have to write a letter back when I get the chance, before dinner, hopefully.

#103
Winter. Day 116. Late Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Sent Celestia a letter saying where I wound up. She was glad that I was alive but worried about my state of health. Sent a notice to my family, my sister and father, after she read my letter. She consulted her cartographers as well, Vesta was nowhere on any of their maps. The possibility of being on an entirely different continent altogether was extremely likely. She'd never sent anypony out that far. They've barely managed to explore the remainder of their own. Told me to proceed with caution from here on out. Strong words of advice but I've already mucked that up quite well.

I've managed to do a bit of walking before dinner. Bolt helped me with that, lead me into the dining hall of the inn. Tables all carved and hacked into round uneven surfaces. Chairs were much the same with small backs and short legs. The bar was different, it had more attention to its crafting. Leveled and polished but there was wear where mugs had skimmed, rested and clacked. Whatever alcohol they had on the mirror backed shelves was far less than what they once held. The bar stools took on the likes of the chairs, only taller. A pony's hooves could rest on the rod that spanned the length of the bar.

It was then that I met Bar Bill. Held himself high, dark cream eyes ever squinting. Skinny but there was muscle there defined by his shiny rusty coat. His mane matched the steel bands on the mugs that lined two of the shelves. He greeted me with a quiet wave and his brows raised. Bolt lead me to a one of the tables near the bar. A good view of the dark and windowless square door. Bolt told me he didn't like bars too much, his long coat drew a lot of unwanted attention.

The two brothers threw open the door with a barrel full of cut wheat from the cellar. Something they'd only use if they couldn't find food in the nearby area. There were shipments too, but those are few and far between. They dragged the barrel to the bar and began cutting out parts that were spoiled, they'd start fires with those bits. Fisher could sort out the seed and spoiled parts by touch, Hisser would catch what he missed. It seemed the two played supporting rolls for one another when it was called for. Bar quietly poured them drinks. Two more for Bolt and I.

While I drank, I listened to Bolt's story of how he wound up here. He was a traveling doctor, part of a trading caravan that found their place here. Built homes and the like however, a majority of them went south for the long winters here. Unable to bear the frigid whether. Told me of Bill, who'd been part of his caravan and how he started the inn keep travelers warm when they had no shelter to call their own. Anchor was in reference to his seaside home far away from here. Fisher and Hisser on the other hoof, were here well before he had arrived. For all he knew, they could be as old as the town itself.

I exchange for his story, I told him mine. Where I had grown up, the job I held, my journeys to the Frozen Desert and the Light Fringe Kingdom. Told him of Stribog and the wolf. The Portal of Four and the beast I had felled. Continued on with my meeting with Celestia and Twilight and their royal rankings. Even told him about Idol and his eventual death to his disease. Then came the tale of my winding up here, every part of my mother's existence as I knew it, revealed.

He listened, intent on my story. Not a single moment he questioned the possibility of. Instead he asked something rather simple. “Is there at least anypony waiting for you? A loved one? Friends or family?” The short answer was yes, there is. Apricot was the most prominent thought. He chugged the last of his cider and added, “Good. Not all of us are that lucky.”

What Bolt said has been running through my head since dinner. I can see what he means by it. It's a dark truth, one that some wouldn't like to believe.

#104
Winter. Day 117. Noon. Anchor's Inn. Vesta.

I looked through the fourth volume again after breakfast. I noticed something about the scrollwork on the edge of the pages. It appeared to be writing, exactly what would take some time. She'd tangled the characters in with swirls of lines. At least I'll have something else to do, other than lie here sleeping. So I've been taking my time with it. Having to reconstruct what was written, then writing it proper, then translating it. The thought is discouraging but it's for the better.

Bolt came in to change my bandages earlier, caught a glimpse of the volume. His curiosity piqued, “That one of the volumes?”

“Yes, the fourth and last one. Brought it with me without thinking. Glad I did though. Found something that might point me in a proper direction.”

“That's good. You've got a starting line but with leg of yours, you're not going anywhere. Your wings are in no condition for flight either.”

“I can still limp, Bolt.” I pointed out.

“Yes and while that may be true, it is also ill-advised. Better to go your journey prepared than not.” He countered with a smile.

I managed to get a good look at the wound on my leg. The spear had only taken a chunk out, missing the bone entirely but it was visible. Whatever loose skin and tissue was the there, Bolt probably cut out or stitched up.

“Before I rebandage this, I need your permission for something.” I gave him an intrigued look “I can cast a healing spell to advance the healing process but there are side effects: drowsiness, irritability, increased heart rate, mild hallucinations, fever, and general overall muscle stiffness.”

“You've done this before?” He nodded. It's a risk I'm willing to take. I've already had hallucinations before. “Do it. I need to stop my mother as soon as I can.”

“Very well.” He grabbed a damp rag and cleaned off what blood was there and placed a single strip of gauss around the wound. “This'll sting a little.” And so it did. There was no magic glow from his horn that I could see but I could feel the spell beginning to work. As if somepony was taking my skin and stretching it out like molten steel. I could see his mouth move the words for his spell. There was pain until he pinned the gauss down with bandages. “Okay,” he heaved a breath, “Do not take the bandages off or else the spell won't work. I'll be tending to you more to check on your condition.”

“Thank you, Bolt.”

He leaned back in his chair and inquired, “You said that there were Designs, correct?” I nodded. “What were the names?”

I thought a moment, rubbing my temples, “Eidolon, The Six, Circuit, Planar, Bury, Acacia, and Storm Drought.” I'm not sure how I managed to recalled them so perfectly.

He repeated the names to himself, none of them appeared to ring a bell. “Could I see the volume, if you're willing.” I hoofed him the thick book of old paper. He flipped through the pages, “The writing seems a bit familiar. Strikingly similar to Gestal Script. That should be a good start...” he closed the book and gave it back to me. “but there's no library here you'll find.”

“Gestal Script?”

“The required writing system for the Hestan Kingdom. A few of the caravan members that I met were from there. I studied some of their books their doctor had. Took a few notes, even.” He sighed and pulled the blankets back over my back legs. “Last I knew the kingdom was at war, so caution is extremely advisable.”

“That's what Celestia tells me.” I humored. “How do I go about getting there?”

“I don't know. I never asked where the place was. Bar might, though. He's heard far more gossip than I have. You'll have to ask him the next time we eat.” He glanced at the clock and checked his watch. He packed up his equipment and left the room after mentioning that he had another patient to check on. They'd been having a bout with a flu recently. Nasty little thing it is.

#105
Winter. Day 119. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

A day gap in entry due to constant hallucinations and excessive sleeping. The hallucinations were nothing bad, just being able to see sound and a few objects twist about. It took a quite a bit of willpower just to convince myself that they weren't actually doing that. The dreams I had while I slept were pretty crazy though I don't remember any of them.

On a more positive note, his spell is working remarkably well. More than three-fourths of it has healed up but there's an awful lot of stinging and throbbing.

Aside from the medical issues, I managed to get around to walking about on my own; with a limp of course. No cast to speak of but there is a sling. A bit of a hassle really. When I found Bar Bill, he was serving somepony I hadn't met yet. A mare with a curled ginger mane and tail. A wonder how she kept it from knotting up. White coat with a tinge of pink and orange freckles covering it all. Kept to wearing a thick dark hooded robe with gold trim to keep warm; boots to match. Her eyes were a vivid red-violet though, streaked with orange.

Bar Bill was about to speak up when she'd interrupted him“I'll introduce myself, Bill.” Her voice rolled her vowels. “Name's Ginger Snow. I heard the twins find you out in the plains all in a mess.”

“That's true. I wasn't sure I would be.” She appeared to be taking in my voice, her head tilted. “Found, I mean. Letter Bee, by the way.”

“Well I see you're at least about, so that's good, Ain't it?” I nodded. “What happened, exactly.”

I only told her the most recent of my injuries, the spears and what exactly they did. That it had happened while I was trying to save my mother, unfortunately whisked away by some ghost of her past. It was the truth, in a sense, but only the half of it. “It stings a bit, but Bolt has been doing a good job at keeping the pain away.”

“Ah, no one should have to lose their mother.” she slurred and mumbled the last bit. “Rumor has it that you were a courier too.” How did they know? I didn't bother to ask. “Plenty of pony folk here would love to send their loved ones some letters back to Hestan and Pecken. But there's a blasted storm blocking the way out of here.”

“Hestan? Bolt mentioned that when he looked at one of my books.”

“You read?”

“Sort of. Translations really.”

“Oh that sounds excitin'” Her enthusiasm and loud voice began to remind me a bit of Applejack. “What language?”

“I'm still working on cracking it.” A bold faced lie and changed the subject, “What about the storm?”

She sighed and chugged the rest of her cider. “I'll tell you upfront: I lost my mom to that storm. We were passing through it on our way back from Hestan.” The storm would explain the decrease in population here. “Strange one too. Never saw lightning and snow round here before. Hailed too.” She huffed. “What really did us in was the cold. We simply weren't used to it despite our thick skin and coats.”

Bar gave me a mug of cider and went back to cleaning another. “How long has the storm been there?” I asked keeping a mask of curiosity. It was important that I did.

“Bout, maybe, five years or so.” she raised her brow, “Why?”

“If anything, I'm willing to get through the storm once my leg heals up.” A brag, but nonetheless I needed to find a reason to find my way out of here other than what I had told Bolt.

“You're mad.” She eyed me.

“Correction: crazy and stubborn.” I smirked.

She turned to a gripping glare. Bar Bill took a step back from the bar. “Don't you trifle with me, stranger.” I could see her anger began to well up.

“I can deliver those letters.” I glared back. Fighting fire with fire was the best way to deal with her, it seems.

“She released her death stare and began laughing. “I like that. I do. I'll let the other folks know.” She glanced to Bar and tapped the mug on the table, he refilled it.

“Very well but I don't know when I'll be able to leave, exactly. I don't know the way, either.”

“That's why I'm going with you. Scrawny colt like you could use some muscle.” She leaped from her stool and headed for the door. “I'll be keeping you to your word, Letter. Don't go running off now.” She smiled and let in the cold winds.

“Where could I possibly run to?” I added. She shrugged at that.

It's funny how easily this is all turning out. Though I found it odd that she could speak Equestrian. Something about the air about her struck me as familiar. It's a nagging thought and I'm better off not letting it bother me.

#106
Winter. Day 122. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Past two days were spent rewriting the script my mother had written in the scrollwork of the volume. I've yet to actually translate it though. Although, my work had started to stifle later on in the day, I started to think about home. Celestia hadn't sent a letter since the last one. I guess there's not much to report. Given her status I'm sure she's busy with other work. Still I wonder how Apricot, Busy, and my father are all holding up. I know Apricot misses me, I miss her too. Whenever I look at her picture in the locket, my chest aches. I would love to eat dinner with her again and watch the stars from under that old apricot tree.

Busy was right about my hardheadedness, I've let it get the better of me. Although, what happened to mother would've happened regardless if I didn't try to save her. Perhaps it's for the better, I wouldn't know where to begin if she hadn't teleported me out here. Quite the place, all the ponies that I've met here are kind and gentle but the wintry weather has hardened them. They're tired and they only wish for the storm to end. Some have happily gave me their letters with thanks, others were a bit shy and reluctant.

Ginger made sure that I had received all the letters that were heading to Hestan and Pecken. She explained that Vesta was a northern colony of Hestan, primarily as an alternative route and a fishing village. The map she brought out for it was torn and old, patched by threads. Several things obviously relabeled in a sloppy manner. What seemed legible was the writing Bolt had described before. Compared to the script I knew, Gestal script had more curved lines to it and punctuation was a bit more obvious. Given the proper time, I could probably work it out.

Ginger pointed out the route we'd take and the only route we could. To go around the storm meant to go into dangerous territory, held by Hestan's enemy of war, the Empire of Resin. It'd been ten years here since then. Any word of it being over is unheard of. Bandits and vicious monsters were rampant around the alternative paths. We were both confident and willing to forge our way through the storm instead.

My leg is almost healed but still sore. The grazing wound on my chest has scabbed up and the aching in my wings seems to have vanished entirely. Good but I'm hoping that I don't wind up in need of another doctor any time soon.

I spent what little time I had left packing everything back into my bags. Then organized the letters and packed those away as well. I need the early sleep tonight, Ginger and I plan to head out early in the morning. I looked at Apricot's picture again and smiled. Going through the storm will be the first step on the journey home. I can only hope for a good turn of events and perhaps a lead on where to go next.

#107
Winter. Day 123. Mid Morning. Vesta.

Ginger and I left Vesta this morning. Fisher and Hisser didn’t seem to mind my leaving. Bolt on the other hoof, wished us both good luck in our venture. Ginger gave me a large robe much like hers before we left the inn. It was a bit more tattered and dusty, but it was warm all the same. Heavy too.

As we left I gave my eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting. The sky was gray and bright and the snow was vast and endless tinted by sunrise. The old doors to the inn creaked closed behind me, the sign overhead swayed lightly by a chain knotted around a rod. There was a good view of the rest of town from here, all the houses pointed out by the glares of their sunlit windowpanes. Snow had covered those houses too, buried them until they were mounds. A few taller houses I saw had their thatched roofs collapsed, leaving them a disheveled tower of stone and mortar brickwork.

As Ginger and I made our way down the shoveled path, branched like a small round tree, I could see the glimpses of several ponies peer from their windows. A few were brave enough to open their ragged doors and wave to us and gives us words of farewell. Words I only knew from Ginger's telling me.

When we reached the end of the path, I double checked everything I had. Ginger did the same with our food. I gave Vesta one last glance, all I could see was Anchor's Inn and its broad front. I looked in the opposite and vaguely, I could see the clouds shift ever so slightly. Beneath them was a sunlit fog. And for a moment, I thought I saw lightning.

#108
Winter. Day 123. Early Evening. Outside the storm.

We've stopped a ways before the storm wall. An extremely long and lonesome walk. Wind brushed our muzzles in unrelenting chill, even with our scarves and hooded robes. The sound of the lightening tearing apart the air was deafening and the thunder rolled heavier than a trebuchet. Vaguely, the sun's light was visible through the thick veil of snow. A reminder of what I saw in Light Fringe before I broke the storm there, if you can call it that.

Ginger was quiet most of the way, we both were really. We huddled together for warmth, strange to me as Apricot had been the only one that I really did that with. Then she spoke up, “You're pretty brave, Letter.”

I could see the fog of her breath jump into my sight. “How so?” I asked her in a low tone.

“Jumping head first into a place unknown without much care. It's brave but it's foolish too.” her voice shivered out the words.

“Part of my job, Ginger. I am a courier and delivering letters is what I do.”

“Of course, of course. “ she muttered. “Have you friends?”

I thought a moment. “I do. Yourself?”

“I do but they haven't seen me in years. Ever since I came up here, they haven't.”

“I'm sure they'll be happy to see you again, Ginger.” She smiled. “I don't know how long it'll be before I can get back home.”

She chuckled, “I didn't know until you came along, Letter. No one else has stared me down like that before.” I recalled the moment. “Everypony else there seems scared of me. You on the other hoof, gave a little care for it. Being scared, I mean.”

I smirked, “You meet a lot of different ponies as a courier, Ginger. Back in Clackerton I could easily spot everypony on my route in crowd. Point out their habits, even.” I paused and added, “Of course, I was pretty laxed about my job but I was always on time.”

She giggled quietly. “That's pretty good.” she cheered. “I've never had a job, honestly. Parents never let me.”

I raised a brow, “Why?”

“It's a long story, honestly. Maybe when we get to Pecken I'll tell you.” Pecken was our first stop before Hestan. We would resupply there and deliver what letters we could. It was however, an outskirt village small in size and whether or not it was still there was a grave question. “For now, let's set up a hovel and rest a bit. Been a long time since I've walked this long.”

Her and I dog out the snow just enough to turn it into a small hovel. A hole in the ceiling for a fire. She did most of the digging while I shaped what I could. Tinder and a spark from flint and steel started the fire. We burned first the bits of spoiled wheat that Hisser and Fisher had sorted through. Second was a single log of an Eversinge tree. Dark red and brown bark and an ash colored center. It was my first time seeing the stuff. Ginger told me a few useful facts: it could burn for days at a time depending on size, grew in with evergreen trees, and the sap could be used for syrup or glue.

As our exhaustion got the better of us, we agreed to sleep. I glanced at my locket again and after Ginger fell asleep, began writing a letter to Celestia. Telling her where I was headed and my current situation. The state of my wounds and how they healed. I brought up a bit about Ginger and the Eversinge log. Signed the letter after writing a bit asking her to forward a copy of the letter to my family. Then I whispered the words again to send the parchment off in a wisp of fire.

I snugged myself into my robe and began to feel the aches set in from the walking. I caught another glimpse of the wound in my leg and noticed it'd leave a notable scar and dip where it'd been pierced. I don't recall ever feeling any pain from that wound, just stinging. Like the bees that I had once been stung by when I was younger, playing by mother's bee farm.

Tomorrow we would be heading through the storm. The vague sunlight gives me hope for something or other. A clue about the Designs, one of the Designs if I'm lucky. I yawned and stretched and confined myself under my robe again.

Chapter 7: Burn and Bury

#109
Winter. Day 124. Noon. The Eye.

We came out of hovel this morning, the wind howling louder than ever. We were both pretty scared from that alone. It could knock us off our hooves, after all. We packed on more layers of clothes Ginger had brought along. All of them thick and heavy. We found ourselves trudging through deep snow with little visibility, bound together by a length of rope. Ginger kept the lead and I slogged behind with my aching leg.

The chill began to strike at our bones and the wind sucked away any breath we had. We kept marching on toward the vague pillar of light. Which became dimmer the closer we got. Either a strange phenomenon or the storm getting thicker. Lightning struck all around us too, vaporizing the snow and creating pits of steam. The rolling thunder was the only thing other than the wind that could be heard.

When we finally broke through the thickest of the snowstorm, we were greeted by the blazing clear sun of winter. Nearly blinded us too but our robes shielded our eyes from the worst of it. The sun warmed us, chasing away the chill of our bones. We're in the eye of it now, resting to our heart's content and enjoyed a small meal.

Ginger brought her mother again, “It kind of hurts being back here again. My fair mother and I took shelter in a cabin out here quite a few years ago. She was ill on our journey to Vesta, the storm was unexpected, for us. She passed away there, my hoof in hers.”

“A cabin?” I was instantly reminded of my uncle. Was there somepony there?” My hopes rose.

Intrigued, she answered, “There was. His name was Yukon.”

My eyes widened and then saddened, remembering his death. “He was my uncle.”

“That's all and good but you're looking rather down about it.” She lifted my chin up. “What happened?”

“He died. Some illness took over him and five years ago, he came back to Clackerton and passed away.”

She hugged me tightly and in a gentle tone, “Aren't we in the same boat, then?”

I hugged her back, “Yea, we are. Would you happen to know where the cabin is?”

“In the eye somewhere, if the storm hasn't taken it.”

#110
Winter. Day 124. Evening. Yukon's Cabin.

It was another long while before we found Yukon's cabin. Amidst the snow. His cabin stuck out like a tombstone with the thriving life of a garden around it. The surrounding snow seemed to grasp for it, failing at every attempt. Short and crude fences crafted from wood same as the Eversinge that we'd burned for warmth. They'd been charred too but didn't give way when shoved.

He had flowers of all sorts, a dance of colors and exotic shapes I'd never seen before, in plants. Ginger kindly filled me in on a few of them. Snameus, a soft flower with star-shaped petals red fading into yellow; skipping orange entirely. Its stalk was a long tube and leaves were few. Blue Flybards looked like a small batch of dragonflies gathered around a tiny yellow sun. They waved wildly about and climbed the iron trellises Yukon had placed. Pink Anitas kept to the ground, the head small in size but the diamond like leaves stretching far and wide. I guess he had something to occupy his time though Ginger pointed out that those flowers were extremely difficult to cultivate properly.

Yukon's cabin on the other hoof, was humble and constructed entirely out of Eversinge. Windows were aged by dust and dirt. The door left open, as if it were a forgotten invitation. When we approached the door there was no smell of rotting food. In its stead was the wafting aroma of Eversinge, a sweet and soft smell. I'd stay here if I could, but I've a promise to keep.

The inside was a bit cramped but there was room for everything he needed. An icebox, a table shoved in a corner without a chair but with a window, and a fire pit on the other side. His bed was divided from the rest of the cabin by a large teal curtain, hung by rings on a rod. There was another room, tucked away in the back corner. Windows on every outer wall, a single chair, an entire bookshelf filled with books, and a single painted canvas on an easel.

The painting was an abstraction of something. Quick thrusting lines of black made a circle. Red made a contorted square. Yellow and orange crafted a wave to split the entire painting. Dark and light hues of violet and blue streaked respective sides and for a moment I thought I began to recognize a familiar shape. At the bottom were four unique lines boxed in the lightest green I'd ever seen.

I brought myself to the chair to stare as Ginger came into the room behind me. Continuing a description of my uncle. “Yukon was quite hospitable to us. Kind and gentle, but he was extremely qui-.” She stopped, shooting a glance at me in a thoughtful state, then at the painting. “Letter?”

“Was this painting here when you were?” I asked lowly.

“No. If I remember rightly, he didn't let me here.” She answered. “Something about the painting bothering you?”

“Yea, I'm not sure what though. It's reminiscent of a puzzle I solved before.” I closed my eyes trying to remember it, “Maybe I'm over thinking it.” Reopened them and stared at it again, bringing my hooves to my cheeks. “What do you think?”

“A puzzle, the four marks at the bottom being a code. If I were to guess.”

I got up and dragged the small chair to the other side of the room to face the shelves. Then turned the painting around to face me and sunk back into the chair. “A code... what kind of code would he...” I trailed off, bringing my hooves to my cheeks again. The room wasn't that large but from this side it felt like it was even with its low ceiling. I felt my head began to ache the more I stared at the damned thing. I pulled myself away, realizing I was slowly leaning towards it.

I glanced out the window, seeing that the sun was beginning to set. Bleached the tops of the clouds in a warm orange.

#111
Winter. Day 125. Noon. Yukon's Cabin.

Ginger and I went to bed last night with little to say. I think the weather got the better of us last night. This morning, I woke up before her and headed straight into the study without a bite to eat. I stared at the painting some more hoping that a renewed mindset would think differently about it. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. The longer I looked the more frustrated I became.

Then I tried a different approach. I brought my muzzle close to the painting and looked over the strokes. Glanced over the symbols and if they could be deciphered in any way. While they looked familiar, I was at a loss for what.

“Letter?” Ginger called out from the empty door frame. I nearly jumped out of my skin then. “I scared you, funny. Anyways, have you ate yet?”

“No,” I answered, catching my breath. “This painting has been on my mind all night.”

“It might mean nothing.”

“A possibility but a painting always has something to say.” I rambled.

“I've prepared breakfast. Come off that and eat, will you?” I noticed a change in her accent with the last of her words. More pronounced and proper. “You can get back to this some other time.”

“No, I can't. I made a promise.”

“Pardon?”

“A promise to Yukon, that I'd burn his cabin down for him.”

“Burn it down...” Confusion splayed. “I don't understand.”

“He was a believer in that when you pass, all your earthly possessions would be burned. He had nopony to go to for that, other than my family.”

“There was me.”

“There's a reason he didn't tell you then, I'm sure. I've a strong feeling this painting is part of it.” I pried my eyes from and walked toward her. “Let's eat. We'll talk over it more later.”

So we ate. A small meal, a little less than what we had the night before but enough. It was a quiet meal until Ginger began to talk about her mother. A somber note to start a morning, better than frustration I guess. She described her much like my own mother, but she was more hard headed. Willing to speak her mind when she felt it was necessary. A good role model, really. I asked her why she and mother went to Vesta. She didn't want to talk about it, frowning and giving me a simple answer. “Her and Pa didn't see eye to eye enough.” Then I asked about how she knew Equestrian, “Your uncle Yukon taught me. Honestly it's a tad rusty. Had some practice with Bolt while you were out.”

“How did you all find out what language I spoke anyways?”

“You kept whispering something about a pony named Apricot. Then something about forgiving your mother. Like you were replaying something in your head.”

“Maybe I was. I don't remember.”

“Well, I can't imagine why. You wailed bloody murder a few times even. Fisher and Hisser had a heck of a time restraining you. Lucky for them that you're practically harmless.”

“That's good I guess.” I agreed with a small smile. “Your mother, you said she died here right?”

“She did. I'll show you after we're done where she's buried.”

So we came upon her gravestone, place alongside a few others. There were a few flowers that sprung up around it. I looked at the other tombstones, they were named but in a scrawl I couldn't recognize. Nothing similar to Gestal. I asked her about the other graves, they were there before she arrived. She hugged her mother's tombstone and momentarily, I thought I saw wisps spring up from it. It certainly wasn't dirt. I paid what respects I could, thanking her for a wonderful daughter. Ginger blushed at that.

I went back into the study and stared at the painting some more. It was tiring not to get frustrated at the stupid thing. I don't understand why it was making me angry. Ginger worked with me, calming me down and offering suggestions. What if its nothing? What about the books on the shelves? Maybe it's supposed to to make me angry. I had a good feeling about the books on the shelves so I stared at them awhile. I noticed a few of their bindings had parts of the symbols. So I rearranged them on the shelves and took off any that didn't. Figured out their order and rearranged them again.

When it all came together, I finally recognized the familiarity with it. The symbols were the same as the locks for the lockbox I left behind. Nothing happened when I finally got them right. It was disappointing. I opted to take a break, leave my mind to rest a bit.

#112
Winter. Day 125. Late Evening. Yukon's Cabin.

I found myself standing outside, before the three gravestones. It was chilly, the sky was clear as it could be. None of them stars made constellations I could recognize. The horizon still cloaked in shadow and lightning. Only the rolling thunder broke the silence. The moon was bright enough to see without a fire. Still, I had an oil lamp for more proper light.

I was curious about them, the gravestones and their writing. I was getting the feeling that this was another puzzle. Another gear to the clock. If reorganizing the books didn't do anything, maybe the stones will. Looking them over front and back, I saw the four symbols again; placed in a different order than what I had. I started to understand. Each set of books needed to be placed in a different spot and in a proper order. These gravestones had the full order. So I wrote them down, spacing out each set of four, crossing out ones that weren't related. Then rewrote it. The final result was eighteen sets. Whatever in the world would uncle Yukon need this long of a code for?

I wandered back into the study. Keeping quiet as a mouse so Ginger wouldn't wake up. I let her have the bed. I'd rather her be in good health. I took some of the extra rope, split it and tied each strand around a different set of books. If I was to be moving these books, tying them together would eliminate extra work. I tore through my notes and began to enter the combination, set by set. One grueling hour passed as I brought one set of books to another shelf. Placing them like a mad librarian. Once the combination was finished, the cabin began to shake, the floor beneath me began to warm. Then fire shot through the cracks. I needed to run.

#113
Winter. Day 126. Early Morning. Yukon's Cabin.

I pulled Ginger from the bed and grabbed our bags. Threw ourselves out of the doorway and into the shivering cold. The snow bit at my hooves. Ginger still didn't wake up from that, so I shook her lightly until she did. She smacked her lips together after a yawn and slowly opened her eyes. The fire had nearly engulfed the back half of the cabin.

Ginger spoke up, dazed, “Looks like you kept your promise.” She patted her robe down, then her eyes went wide, “I left something in there! My necklace, it was on the bed. Could you fetch it for me?”

“Fetch? I'm not a dog, Ginger.”

“Sorry, but please get it, it is extremely important.”

So I stripped off my robe and went back into the cabin. I found the bed among the smoke, avoiding the curtains that had started to catch. I rummaged through the blankets and checked under the pillow. For a moment I wondered why she wouldn't keep it with her, in her robe or bags. Then I found it lodged in the corner. Fire began to make its way behind me. I snatched it and blindly ran back toward the door. Only to find that it blocked by a fallen crossbeam. The windows were too tough to break and the fire hadn't yet burned through the roof. So I ran through to the study, dodging every lick of flame I could.

I saw loose bits of the wood collapsed by the windows and the chair refused to catch. I tested my strength with it a moment, no heavier than a young colt. I positioned myself, grabbed two sides, heaved and chucked it through the wall. The sudden change forced fire to come up from behind me and a gust knocked me down. Luckily, I remained unharmed. I darted out the hole I'd made before it collapsed further.

Coughing and breathless, I made my way back around the cabin. Where Ginger was impatiently waiting. I gave her the necklace, which she immediately tucked away into her robe. She hugged me, “You've no idea how much this means to me.”

“A gift from your mother, I presume?” I coughed. When she pulled away I noticed soot puff off my coat. She had some on her own too.

“You could say that. More a heirloom, really.” Her accent quickly shifted again.

“You're welcome, just remember I'm no fire fighter.” I said pulling my robe back around my shoulders. “Let's wait till the fire dies down. We can gather some more firewood.” A partial lie. My gut was telling me there was something more than just burning down the cabin.

“Well, I'll prepare some breakfast then.” Again with the proper accent.

#114
Winter. Day 126. Noon. Yukon's Cabin.

It was a lovely fire. Plumes of smoke tumbled into the sky. The fire tossed idly about, making its sparks perform like dancers in a festival. Even though we kept our distance, the heat radiated like the sun on a summer's day. Crackling snaps matched the heavy thunder. The fire died out thanks to the freezing wind.

I approached the rubble, kicking my hooves through what ash there was. Suddenly I heard a heavy groan beneath me and the ground began to cave. The earth below opened up and swallowed the cabin whole. I backed away to escape gaping hole and looked to the graves, they were still intact. I was happy about that.

After the quake ceased, I found myself approaching the hole again. It was deeper than any well I’d ever known. Yet at the bottom, a faint shimmer of light. And the walls appeared to be steel darker than any blade, holding no light. From here I could feel its coldness. No stairs to lead the way.

“By the name of the land.” she gasped, peering down the hole with me. “What is this?”

“I don't know. I've an idea, but it's not a good guess.” I glanced at her, “You want to find out together?”

“But I can't fly and your wings are in no shape for it.”

“My wings are fine. Just a small clip now. Leave our stuff up here so the extra weight won't bother us.”

So we did. She clung to my back and wrapped her hooves around my neck. And we dove into to the darkness below. Unsure of what was waiting there.

#115
Winter. Day 127. Evening. Design: Bury.

A long flight into the darkness below and into another light. At the bottom were the remains of the cabin. But that's not what caught our attention. What did was an endless wave of dirt and sand piled atop one another, fighting for supremacy.

I took a step off the platform, my hoof touched the surface of glass clearer than a full moon's night. Everything was clearly seen now. Another step and it reacted to me, felt my presence. I heard Ginger call for me, but her words died. Another step and I could feel the glass bend. And on my last, the glass shattered and the illusion disappeared.

Before us stood a small array of things we'd never seen. Monsters of painted steel left to rust in the darkness. Arms shaped and crafted to dig away at the land, move it elsewhere. To reform it. Shape it as they saw fit. They did not move by magic nor the strength of many. Their size could easily dwarf a house.

What was also here were the remnants of something else. Something that sprung to life when I touched it. A desk, a wide podium with a sphere in its center, that flared up a large luminescent window of blue-green light. On it and in the Designer's Script: Bury. “Bury.” I repeated.

A cold voice called out in unchanging tone in a language I couldn't recognize. It repeated itself until appeared to realize the issue. From a ball in the long desk sprouted a grid that fell us like water. Ginger remarked how weird it was but the ghost cut her off, “Language corrected. Initiating Proper Protocol.” Even creepier, “First Princess Ginger Snow and Great Descendent Letter Bee.” We both shot wide glances at one another. The cold voice continued, “I welcome you to Bury, Design seven of seven. I am Shovel, Keeper of Bury.” The large screen changed from the script to lines that reacted to its voice, sound waves.

The word 'accessing' popped up in one corner and Shovel continued. “Records of Eidolon show Yukon has passed. Records of Acacia show Letter's mother has become one again.” Ginger shot me a confused glance. “Letter is aware, I presume.”

“That is correct.” Our voices echoed here thanks to the steel. “She told me to seek out one of you. What was the purpose of splitting my mother?”

“To prevent failure.”

“Failure?” I questioned.

“Corruption. Acacia calls it Rebirth.”

“What is Rebirth?”

“That is unclear.”

“Really now? Where can I find the answer?”

“Acacia.”

“Where is Acacia?”

“Locations of other Design cannot be revealed by a Keeper or another Design.”

I thought further questioning would be fruitless. “What is the purpose of Bury?”

“To conceal the Designs.”

“That obviously failed.”

“Correct. Curiosity is not prominent to one species, but many.” Then something strange happened to it, as if it were being attacked. The line stumbled and scrambled, creating a twisted voice of confusion. “Permission granted. Override initiated.”

The line fell flat before several garbs of static mangled it. Then a calm warm voice came through. “Evening, Letter, Ginger. “ Those few words alone nailed him old and tired. “It's a good thing you've come, Letter. The lockbox I gave her was two things: a gift which she treasures and the second is a spell of concealment. The third function was something she did on her own.” The voice sighed, “I will look into this Rebirth of hers.”

“Sir, Why was my mom torn in two anyways?” I asked.

He laughed warmly and low, “Sir... I haven't been called that it such a long time. He magic was tearing her apart, she'd yet to realize it at the time. She became sicker and sicker as I studied. I found that magic couldn't be taken from its owner, its host. So I created a leech and split her magic into many, disguising it in various ways. It was not until the maelstroms began had I realized that it had all began coming back together. Then it was only a matter of time.”

“How can we stop my mother?”

“Right now, you can't. Only when you can get here, can you do that. And here is very far away from there. The scrollwork in the fourth volume will help lead the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Pardon the interruption of this history lesson, but I'd like to know if there's an easier way through this storm.” Ginger spoke up, impatience riding her tongue.

“A moment.” He rang out a deep breath. “It is done. Letter, I will contact you when I find out.”

“Thank you.” Ginger and I chimed in unison.

Vaguely, I thought imagine the voice on the other end smile. Then the communication cut in a garbled static and the glow of the orb faded away.

Chapter 8: Through Field and Valley

#116
Winter. Day 128. Evening. Eastern Snow Plains.

The projection went away after he took down the storm. I assume he used whatever power that kept the Design running did that. I've many more questions to ask him. I've still more to learn. Ginger and I have some more to learn about each other as well. But not now, better when it's appropriate.

Ginger shook me from my thoughts and motioned for me to fly us back out. The flight out of the shaft was quiet and lonesome, even with her on my back. This new weight bore a hole through my thoughts the entire way.

It took some time for our eyes to adjust to the light and its natural beauty. When they adjusted, we found the skyline as clear as ever. No storm, just the chilling wind far calmer than before. We grabbed our bags and when we turned around, the shaft sealed itself in. Leaving the rubble of Yukon's cabin atop of it. I guess it it would make the tombstones and garden seem less out of place.

Ginger and I walked until the sun went down behind a set of distant mountains. A cascading river of sunbeams breaking through the valleys and crevices. And vaguely I could see a tower before the sun a strain on the eyes from here. Ginger pointed out that it was Hestan's great tower, The Sky Spear. She told me more about this tower after we'd set up camp. The temperature had risen a fair amount to not have us in another hovel.

It had been under construction far longer than her father's current rule. A pride and joy of the entire Kingdom. To make the tower stand, a mass of cables and other super structures kept it from blowing over. And at each base of these, an entire city dwarfing an average forest. Being in a land of great plains, just past the mountains, this feat was easy for them. She did point out however, that many new magic spells had been created to help in its construction, ones that I may not be familiar with.

Drawing from that, I asked about her responsibilities as a princess to her kingdom. She explained it simply, but she was irritated about some of the topics. Politics, mostly. One way to gain land was to marry off the children to another kingdom, whether or not it was the best idea. Her father wasn't one of those though. He's a rightful king but when she'd left with her mother, his rule was becoming shaky. He sent them off for their own safety. What exactly that concern was for, she never found out, she'd a feeling that her mother did.

Another topic she preferred to talk about were the subjects of her kingdom and all the different races that she''d meet with on a daily basis. Natural traits of these races founded certain associations with their jobs or talents. Minotaurs worked well in the fields, to plow and reap the land of harvest. Their strength and endurance kept them out longer than anyone else. Nymphs aided in that as well as the cultural arts, dancing and singing most commonly. Fairies helped with magic spells and jewelry and though small, were incredibly rare to have employed in any manner. Then there were the pony races that I was already familiar with.

She added later, after a short talk about homely meals, that there was a mode of transportation to get from Pecken to Hestan: drozards. I was intrigued and asked about them. Large beasts greater and stronger than minotaurs. They held the skin akin to a dragon spiny scales and sharp eyes, but wingless and ran on four legs. Finned tails longer than three minotaurs at arms length. But they were assuredly, the fastest land creatures they had ever tamed.

The drozards were the reason that we were heading to Pecken first. They had stables full of them and Ginger knew a pony there that would lend us two. The distance between Pecken and Hestan is no easy walk, from what she tells me. We'd letters to deliver there as well, so it was two birds with one stone. Problem was finding where they were. I'll have to rely on Ginger's memory, she hopes it hasn't changed much.

Tomorrow night, I am to tell her my story; my ancestral history, so to speak.

We both agreed to turn in for the night, the moon and dark violet skies have hung over us for quite some time now and my- our eyes are a bit heavy. I will say that it felt great to fly again, just strange with my larger wingspan.

#117
Winter. Day 129. Noon. Eastern Snow Plains.

Another morning of a short and quiet breakfast, with the exception of the gradually warming weather. Though we still needed the robes to keep us warm. After stretching out and I put my wings to work a bit more. Flight is far faster than a gentle trot, after all. Carrying Ginger and our equipment on the other hoof, was a bit of a hassle, not only because of the added weight but the fact that the strength in my wings has lessened since I got here. Wasn't long before I had to take a break.

Ginger wound up dragging me across the ground on a bundle of large evergreen branches. Landing had caused my leg injury to flare up in pain. Triggered hallucinations and a needle bed of pain, too. I played with the clouds like they were cotton and glue on colored paper. The kind that was rough to the touch, uncomfortably so.

We had stopped several times for both rest and to check my health. The hallucinations linger still, but their strength has dwindled to glimpses of flies. For awhile, Ginger was entertained by my playfulness, then annoyed by the fact I couldn't keep quiet. Thinking back on it, I can barely remember a word that I said. I guess there's still some damage that hasn't healed yet.

And now, as we eat lunch, the Sky Spear's became just a bit clearer. I could barely make out the massive cables that held it in place. We're still far from the mountains that essentially border the kingdom. A marvel already of how large the thing is. Although, there was one question I have in mind, why build it so tall? It seems unnecessary to do so. Perhaps I'll ask Ginger if she knows when we settle for the night.

#118
Winter. Day 129. Late Evening. Mountains Breach, west.

So I revealed everything that has preceded me: my home and what my mother was as far as I knew. Ginger was shocked at the last portion. I had some trouble telling it, I often lost my thought and sight. I'd snap to with my eyes gazing into the core of the campfire. The crying and screaming all came back in a moment and racked my mind all at once. My heart raced at the thought and I found myself shaking again. Not from the cold, mind you. The bloody messes that scattered Market Square still held their fresh scent of warm iron. Ginger held my hoof throughout the telling, it was calming and it kept me from breaking from what I was saying.

After I trudged my way through that story, telling what happened on the ship was far easier. Although the memory is a bit hazy, I was still able to get my point across. I had some confliction of what really happened with that magic in the lockbox. I don't recall if it had actually merged itself with my mother or if it had simply vanished.

After telling her that, she turned in for the night. Tired from dragging me along. I've lied down for the past couple hours, wide awake and staring at the empty night sky. I was reminded of home. Sure the stars were different from here and the moon was elsewhere but the sky is the sky all the same. But here, it was strange and new. There was one star I could point out I recognized, pale orange in its color, to the west. It was the same star that set to the west of us in Clackerton. This opened up an option for me: running away from here and heading home. I've decided against that, as it wouldn't settle well with me. I'm sure Ginger would find a way to run me down if that were the case.

Instead, I wrote to Celestia. Taking note of the stars here in relation to that one, mapping out the brightest ones. I wrote to her more about the place I was heading and the tower that stood taller than any mountain. Promising to write more when I got there. Asked her to forward the letter to my family when she could too. I wanted them to know my progress, it wouldn't be fair to leave them out of it.

On another note, Ginger is rather adorable when she sleeps, despite her boyish behavior. It was a grave contrast compared with how Apricot sleeps, still and like a baby. Ginger was sprawled out and rolled around a fair bit, mumbling random nonsense in her native tongue. I'll need to thank her when this trip is over. I do hope that her father's worry has subsided, regardless of what it was.

#119
Winter. Day 130. Evening. Valley of Silence.

Another day of walking and traversing harsh landscapes. We've had to carefully tread around narrow cliff faces, wary of waking the creatures that lurked there. Taking paths of soft dirt or wet gravel to when we came by a small slow moving river. Moving only when boulders tumbled down the mountainside from small dragons fighting one another on summits. The legend behind the valley, so Ginger tells, is that all the animals that live hear rely on hearing more than sight. A loud voice or cry easily echoed, alerting predators to prey. So whomsoever travels here, must keep their talk low and their hooves quiet.

As for how the valley looked, little vegetation aside from a misplaced tree or two. The ground is gray and barren dried clays scarred by memories of fire. Skeletons and carcasses lied strewn about, long decayed and stench far gone. A few wagons disheveled and abandoned, their wood rotten and metals rusted. One wagon we quieted shifted through had a fair amount of her kingdom's currency. Filb, she called them. Grabbed a few books and jewelry that caught her interest as well. We'd look through them later. Anymore noise might alert the few predators that stalked the dead. Ginger was quick to silence me when I grazed my leg against a nail as I helped her out.

The truth of this venture through here, is that it's a shortcut. Shaving off at least three days of time. Always a catch to shortcuts it seems. While the trip was long, we made it through the valley without a single incident. I'd never go through that place again, though. Dreadfully quiet at times and that alone could put someone in a panic.

From this end, we could see the tower and the collection of structures that kept it standing, from this side at least. I saw how Pecken was dwarfed by slanted castle of dark stone and rings of magic that gave the massive structure further strength. Although we could see Pecken from here, it would take another full days worth of walking to get there. The Grand River encircled the entire kingdom and crossing that would take half the day alone. We have to be early birds for this, as the ferry that crossed ran on a schedule. We can see the river from here, but we're far from it.

We settled down a fair ways away from the entrance to the valley to play it safe and settled down. As I began piling the wood and sparking the fire, Ginger went through what we'd recovered from the wagon. Three books and three identical bracelets. The bracelets came from the guild they represented, the Hestan Trader's Guild. Gold bands with emerald stones. The face of the Filb coins etched into the outer latch. A simple image of a house in a sun.

Now the books were logs of purchases, sells, and trades among other towns. There were little notes on extra leaflets of one of them, stating where the group was heading to next. Apparently this one was the last one to go to Vesta and the date marked it more than five years ago. They choose poorly to go through the valley. Their books held the stains of blood and rain and what Ginger could read was barely legible. She cursed them for not using bags for such precious things. Above all, it seemed odd that she was not above pilfering the dead. Still, she said she would return them, the books, to the guild.

#120
Winter. Day 131. Late Noon. Grand River Ferry

We made our way across the empty grassy field littered with antelopes, foxes, rabbits, and a single group of drozards mulling about. Ginger pointed out the large lumbering beasts. I would say they're wingless dragons but that would be wrong. More like eels with legs like wolves, spiny heads and narrow eyes. Scales a mixture of browns and grays. Ginger pulled me from my staring, urging the importance of the ferry.

When we arrived at the shore of the single and incredibly wide dock, we were greeted by mass of mossy earthen stone. Stood only as a torso, head, and arms with hands. Sprung to life when we neared, “Who approaches?” It's voice was tired and aged and gentle. I would say that it looked at us, but its glowing blue eyes peered through us. “Ah,” it yawned. “The fair princess has returned at last. Last I saw, you were but a fledgling. Now you're barbarian.” He brought his hand to his chin, stroking his beard of moss and grass and looked at me, “You bring a friend, but not your mother?” Worry set in.

“She passed away. Fell ill as soon as we left.”

“Ah.” He lowered his head. “Your father has been worried since. I've not heard word from him since.” His faceted face of stone turned to a frown.

“Really, what happened?”

He tapped his temple with a single finger, “An amphitheater. An arena. Both are one. It has become an attraction of sorts.” He began to sound uneasy. “Your father missing since, brother Nutmeg taken the throne.” Ginger remained silent. “Merchants and bards have spun tales of plays and fights.”

“My friend, Letter, and I have been discussing a name to use as a disguise. Suggestions?”

Tough his brow was low, I could see it raise a small bit. “A name? I've never thought to name. I hear and call.” He hummed. “Anitas. Small and pretty things but such flowers wilt easily.” Hummed again, sought to speak but stopped himself. “Glalou.”

“The first botanist? It works.”

He turned his head toward the river, “The ferry arrives shortly.” he turned back. “Why a name?”

“I don't need a welcoming committee.” Ginger said sternly. “My mother's emblem is all I need.”

“Some may believe you a deceiver. You should be wary.”

Not only was a change in her name needed, but a change in her hair as well. We thought a moment until the guard took a large blade of grass out from his beard and handed it to me. “She knows not how, you do.”

Ginger looked at me confused and amused. I lowered my head a bit and recalled an old memory, “My sister had practiced with my mane when I was younger.” My face flushed with embarrassment. “Never thought I would remember it by heart.” I instructed her to sit as I circled once around her. As I mentioned before, her mane is a large blob of ginger curls. I took the long blade of grass, the length of a sword, and set my teeth on it ever so lightly.

I sat behind her, then felt her hair just a little bit. Saw how it weaved into its curls, its softness, and pale ginger color. Pulled back her mane lightly, took one half and twisted it over the other. Weaved each together and create one large braid that hung down one side. Then tied it off with the grass, knotting it so only scissors could beat it.

“There, done. I've kept this secret even from Apricot.” I looked to the golem. “How did you know, exactly?”

“My brothers and I, land has made us wise with its magic. Your hooves too gentle for a sword. A heart kind, ridden with aches. The land knows all, far wiser than I.” He then turned his attention to Ginger, placing a finger under her chin. “Be wary.” He could easily crush her head with that finger if he chose to. Pulling away, he turned to the vast river. “It arrives soon.”

Ginger simply nodded.

The ferry was smaller than I had expected, with everything else so grand in the distance. From here, Pecken looked like a cluster of colorful rocks strung together by string. The ferry was nothing to it. A large mass of cut and tied timber made it more a raft than a ferry. A single pony with a long rod pushed it through the water. At least it had a railing.

The two of us boarded the ferry, I was a bit reluctant of course. Something so rickety is hard to have some trust in. The captain, through Ginger's translation, simply informed me that magic kept it afloat. To my surprise, it didn't shift a bit when we boarded. I was relieved, but still had an unfounded nervousness. We've only crossed half of the river so far and the trip has been quiet. The captain kept to himself and Ginger seemed worried about what the golem had told her. Strangely, we were the only ones on it.

“Nutmeg,” she kept her head lowered, staring at the large fish darting underneath the raft. “Has been an unruly brother. I've only known him for a few years but I remember my mother's stories of him quite well. The worst was when he tossed when he burned down part of the keep and threw the captain of the guard into the dungeons. Held a public execution of him too.”

“I hope he was. Sounds a little crazy.”

“Well, his name is Nutmeg for a reason. Just as mine is Ginger. A natural tendency among the kingdom, to shape yourself around your name.”

“Seems natural for everypony, really.” I added.

“That may be true, there are differences, though.” Just motioned her hoof, as if to scratch the subject away. “What worries me is the fact that Nutmeg took the throne. My much older sister is first heir.”

“We'll stop by an tavern then. Gossip spreads quite a bit there. Bartenders have the gist of it.”

She gave me a knowing stare, “How would you know. Drinking doesn't seem like one of your strong points.”

“My flight instructor was a bit of a drunk. At least, he used to be.” An understatement.

She kept her stare and brought her face closer to mine. “Really now? We're in luck then.” she pulled away and idly placed on hoof into the water. She smiled, “My auntie Garlic owns one.” She frowned, “I just hope she's still running it.”

“Either way, we'll find something out.”

#121
Winter. Day 131. Evening. Pastures, Abandoned Home.

We found a golem here as well, identical in their likeness. Only this one was silent and I could feel it straining its pain. It kept quiet about it as we moved on through fields of barley and wheat untamed until a thunderstorm began to roll in. We were lucky to find this house, a single load bearing wall kept this half standing. The other half was torn apart by wind with night settling in.

We huddle into a perfectly stony corner, safe from the rain and wind. The warm air was new, so we stripped out of our bags and robes and used them as bedding. Ginger adjusted the oil lamp she had and pulled out our dinner: a couple apples and burdock leaves. The flickering flame danced in its little case case, vented by thin metal, brown and dirty, rough to the touch.

I thought about how far I would be going into Hestan with Ginger. “So, what kind of mannerisms does the nobility use in Hestan?”

She looked back, a bit absentmindedly. “I-I'm not sure. It's been so long that it's all become extremely vague.” Her eyes flickered with thought. “I know auntie can help with it.”

“Ah, that's fine. I just figure that since you're royalty and I don't know how far I'll be allowed, I figured some manners might help.”

“Of course.” she smiled. “Manners are always good to have. Living in Vesta has taught me a few things otherwise.” Her smile turned a bit wicked. “Like slaughtering rodents and pests and how to cook them.”

Letting that sit in, she continued, “I didn't eat them, mind you. Stomachs not suited for it. Minotaur couple that lived out there. For a while, they were helpless.”

“Good that you helped, then.” It relieved me but still it was still strange.

“True. While it is sometimes fun, it is also disgusting and messy.” She gulped down some water. “I suppose I could teach you some of the language. Basic conversation at least. My auntie can teach us the proper mannerisms. We'll begin tomorrow during our first break, keep your little book out for notes.” She answered my question before I could speak. “I've caught you writing several times in the middle of the night. A wonder how you're even awake as much as you are.”

“It's a journal,” I confessed. “I try to make them short if possible. It's also a bit helpful for my memory; doctor's orders.” I shrugged.

“Very well. I'll do well to remember that. Is it filled yet?”

Pulling the journal from my bags, I flipped through the remaining pages. “About fifty or so left. No idea how quickly I'll fill them up.” I closed the leather bound journal and clasped the gold latch in place. Gold enforced the binding too and filled the engraving that marked it as a journal. It is a small thing, a wonder how I could with hooves. Fortunately, Equestrian writing is not nearly as intricate the Designer's Script. Even then, the script is mostly straight and angled lines.

“You know, I could get a new one for you, bags too. If you're to go on this journey of yours, you need a proper start.”

“That would be great. I'd have no idea where to start looking.”

She laughed warmly, “Well, it shouldn't be too hard. Hestan is well known for libraries and academies. Knowledge is exceedingly important after all.”

“True.” Lightning struck through the sky, its roar shook the house. The flash of light lit up her weary face. “Let's get some sleep. We'll need the rest. Tomorrow's a big day and neither one of us should be tired for it.”

“Yeah.” I said, curling up before letting my eyes doze off. “Sleep well.”

Chapter 9: Pecken

#122
Winter. Day 132. Evening. Teal Deer Tavern, Pecken.

We began the day packing our robes. The air now warm enough to go without them. The grand pasture was filled with different animals I hadn't seen yesterday. Animals that I could call chimeras or manticores but both those would be wrong I feel. Some held the same build but a different skin. Others had parts that weren't normally associated with what I know of the two. Where a manticore normally had bat-like wings, it had those of a great eagle and pointed ears but lacked the fiery mane. Certainly here they were all normal to the residents. To me, a whole new sense of wonder. Ginger had pulled me away from sketching them out and writing some description. Called me a fascinated child marveling at something regular. I made a point about how anything new can fill somepony with curiosity. Something she ignored quite well.

We did manage to pass an outgoing troupe of nymphs and ponies speaking in Ginger's native tongue. It was a bit strange to my ears at first. Slurring sounds and hard ends of each word sounded to me like Flight Gear's drunken ramblings when Albedo had me keep an eye on him. They all spoke in low tones too but there was something else to it as well. Some of the same words I heard were sometimes stretched, as if to mean something else. Ginger stumbled once or twice on her new name.

It was during that, that I realized how massive the Hestan's Sky Spear truly was with all its supports and all its enforcements. A single tilted pillar ran through Pecken, splitting it in two. There were no walls to keep the city in either, it sprawled out like a web with each road leading somewhere. While the pillar, anchored by fragmented stones of magic and its own solid supports dug deep into the earth appeared as a massive scar, Pecken sought to consume and disguise it like moss to tree bark.

The buildings themselves, were all like their own little castles bunched together. Rope strung clothes between the walls of colored stone. Crested banners hung down from glassless or barred windows. The crests took after a leafless tree on a hilltop. Only keeping colors of white, dark green, and indigo. An odd combination of colors honestly.

In my distraction, Ginger had already traded off a few things that we won't be needing: some firewood, tinder, oil, and spark. In return we got a map of Pecken and Hestan and some information about the king and the arena. Something we would discuss after dinner.

“Letter,” Ginger shook me. I turned my gazed to her. “come on now. We've got mail to deliver remember?”

“Lead the way then, milady.”

“Don't call me that.” she scolded. “Save it for when we get to Hestan.”

“Of course.” Before we entered Pecken, I put on my uniform again. It was refreshing but my hat had gotten a bit musty

The streets of Pecken were crowded, but I've had some practice weaving through narrow streets. Clackerton had a few and they filled to the brim when the apricot tree bloomed. The cobbled streets would fill with games and food stalls that invited everyone to have a little fun. Here it was a different story. Stalls and stores lined either side and stretched down alleyways. The loud jeers of the vendors were loud and clear and when I glanced over, it was either a blacksmith, clothier, fruits and vegetables, or jeweler. But these open air markets weren't everywhere, only where they seemed convenient.

The first home we came upon was a large family of ponies, all without magic and flight. Their tower of a home seemed more than suitable for them. An old and aged mother answered the door and after she finished reading the letter, she collapsed. I helped her back and guided her back to a chair in her empty living room. She called to her husband with a smile and her eyes relieved. Her read the letter too, smiled widely and gave it back to her. I bid my parting and wished them well. As I left I heard them call out and a dozen colts and fillies of all sorts of colors came out of hiding, rushing to their mother. Before I went out the door, I heard them cheer and saw Ginger standing there, ears intent on the joyful voices. She seemed happy, genuinely so.

The next letter was to a small guild of blacksmiths. They took the letter well. Cheered to know that one of their graduated apprentices was still out there, working hard in a well frozen landscape. The head blacksmith, a soot covered minotuar, thought it was strange to that I spoke Equestrian. He spoke it too but with some a few stammers. He offered Ginger and I a drink, but we both declined, having more letters to deliver. The head shrugged it off and continued with his work.

A third letter was to a longing friend who broke down and cried. He was happy though, knowing that they were alive. Ginger told him that the route was likely to reopen thanks to the storms dissipation. It made him even happier. Fourth letter was to the mayor, listing off a load of supplies he was happily obliged to fulfill.

And the last few letters were more heartbreaking than anything. A mother lost her son and daughter. A husband losing his wife. A brother losing his brother, thus becoming the last in the family. I silently comforted them, the best I could. Ginger translated everything they said to me, it was often very little. All I could do was say sorry and relate the fact that I've lost a friend, too. A hug or two as well. There was sobbing too, sobbing held back, sobbing I held back. Sometimes none at all.

After that, we took a break, fetching lunch from a small tavern shoved between a wood worker's shop and a tailor's. The food was different, served to us by a sweetly voiced nymph who looked like she was crafted together by vines and stone. A form reminiscent to the ferry's golems. Only more slender and of course smaller. For a second I wondered how many truly existed.

“Letter, when we were delivering those last four letters, you said you lost a friend. I'm aware of your mother, but not your friend. What's the story behind that?”

I searched the table, looking for something to avoid the topic. Failed in doing so and took a breath. “He had an illness. It was an off and on thing that plagued him his entire life. When I last met him, he finally died from it. I knew him for nearly the length of my life.” I didn't realize my eyes began to water and my voice trembled. “I didn't realize how much he meant until after we'd buried him. I saw his smile when he passed away. He was so happy.” Ginger place one of her hooves in mine. “He was so happy.” I repeated.

“Letter, it's okay. Be happy he doesn't have to live with that anymore.”

I wiped my eyes and looked back to her. “I am. Truly, I am. It's the fact that we'll never be together again, enjoying our little shenanigans.” I smirked. “Those are the things I'll miss. The things never to happen again.”

“I see.” Ginger retreated her hoof and stared blankly out the window. “I think I'm beginning to understand grief and its ways. I think since my mother passed, I've never been able to truly understand it. Maybe it was my age or maybe it was because Yukon was never able to explain it to me.”

“Maybe. He did keep to himself, after all.”

“Maybe.”

The rest of our late lunch was rather uneventful and quiet. We paid our due and left, making our way through the main street, the largest in the city. We crossed under the support which practically split Pecken in half. The tunnel through could easily hold a house. Had plenty of scrollwork and ironwork to keep it from look like a stick in the mud. Inlaid in the work were lines of magic that fed through to the cable and further out, rings of broken stone. One of those could easily crush many of these buildings. And the support structure could crush half the city.

Regardless of my awestruck desire to inspect the structure more, Ginger pulled me away. We still had her aunt to visit after all. She pulled me through more crowded streets and narrow alleys. I had a feeling she began to remember the streets here after walking around. It was kind of fun, running wildly through streets like that, weaving through crowds thin and thick. Perhaps fun is an understatement.

When we stopped, we arrived at a place, teal in color with antlers appropriately placed around the open door frame. A sign overhung the road: Teal Deer Tavern, it read engraved and painted in black. A flaky gold accented various parts of the sign and every frame for the windows. It seemed the place was well aged compared to the buildings around it. Still it was in a fair condition. Seemed more like a house I'd live in than anything else.

We made our way in, quietly. Ginger and I took a seat at an empty table, one of many. The interior was convinced me even more that this was once a large house, gutted of any luxurious rooms it had, leaving any bedrooms it did have upstairs where the balconies lied. As with any tavern, a long bar with a stone top. Behind it, numerous bottles filled each shelf to the brim. Glasses and mugs too, many of them appeared, however. A slow night, a good thing.

It wasn't long before a pony waitress came over and greeted us. Ginger ordered for the both of us: bowls of soup and water. We ate quietly again until she came back to refill our glasses. Our polite waitress with her bouncy cropped blonde mane and pale orange coat came back with another pony. She was quite large in size, not fat, more round in her build. She towers over most ponies I know.

The waitress left after a few short words between the three of them. Then Ginger spoke a few words to the larger mare and after a short stare down, the larger one hugged Ginger like a bear. Ginger gasped for air a few times as she was swayed about in her forelegs. After another a brief epiphany, another set of words, then sadness and frowns. Ginger's deceased mother the cause. We shook hooves, a grip stronger than my father's.

The greeting was followed by more conversation. Gentle and surprised and delighted amusement. There was a lot I could tell from just the tone they were speaking in and a lot of the words seemed shorter and less varied than Equestrian. There didn't need to be, not with the way they spoke. I could tell when Ginger began to ask for a favor and the look of contemplation that covered her aunt's face.

Then Ginger looked to me, “Are you okay with sharing a room?” I nodded.

The conversation continued on for awhile until Garlic called the waitress over. Who picked up our dishes and took them away somewhere unknown. Garlic gave Ginger the key to the room and went on her way to greet some customers who'd come through the door. Ginger led me to our room just at the top of the stairs. The room wasn't small and it wasn't large either and stuck to bare necessities. Drawers, a chest at the foot of the bed, bedside lamps, a table, and a candle.

While we took off our bags, we discussed who would sleep in which bed. She quickly tucked herself in. Her talk with Garlic seems to have exhausted her. I am exhausted too. I had begun writing this entry at sunset, now the moons faint glow is peering through the window and the candle has used half its wick and wax.

I think, in our running around, Ginger had forgotten her word to me. To teach me some of her language. Perhaps this is her way of teaching me, the beginning of many lessons. I truly won't know until she begins them in a more explicit manner.

#123
Winter. Day 133. Noon. Teal Deer Tavern

I woke up with my shoulders aching and the sun blaring through the window. I stretched and dug through my bag, warmed by the magic of the Parchment Stone. I was surprised to see nearly a dozen letters pushing the bag to the brim. It was exciting to see. I received letters from more than just Celestia. I got a bunch from random townsfolk in Clackerton, Fluttershy and Apricot, Twilight, my father and sister, Dream, and Rarity.

A majority of the random letters were thanking me and congratulating me on my father's new position as mayor. He deserved it after all, he helped build half the town. But he was also the one who announced that I was the one who revealed the conspiracy of Idol's family. Of course I couldn't be there, my father explained that in the fight on the fleeting ship that I had been whisked far away by magic. Not all unbelievable, but it was a good excuse for now. The town itself, was almost finished with its repairs and the underground tunnels would be sealed up.

Fluttershy and Apricot wrote to me in a joint letter. It was easy to tell who wrote what. The two of them had opened up a shelter in Clackerton for rescued animals. Apricot recalled what I had mentioned to her about Fluttershy and that I was correct about most of it. Their first meeting was a lot of saying the same thing, at the same time. An amusing letter to say the least. Apricot pointed out that Yukon, my pet, hadn't left yet.

The letters from Twilight and Celestia were mostly about probable locations where I could be at in the world. Drawn out explanations and terms I couldn't quite understand. To a point of snapping and yelling. Magic and its terms aren't exactly my forte. I never studied them much and most others learned it on their own in Clackerton, not from a book or teacher. There was another note to their letters though, saying that that magic in the stone may be fading soon. She had expected it to last longer but with the distance between us, its lifespan has shortened considerably.

Dream Seer sent me a rather simple letter. After hearing about the recent events from Apparition, she became concerned. She had spent her idle time helping townsfolk. Most who had lost a family member or friend, the traumatized, and others plagued by nightmares. She explained that she had a history of therapy, something she hadn't told me anything about. She noted that most of her patients had said something about me once the news got around.

Rarity's letter was the last one I got around to reading. She had visited the two humble cottages that Idol had purchased for us. They were already furnished enough to live in. Suitable for a good vocation trip for a small family and perfect for a getaway. Statuesque has been adjusting to his new life quite well and Sweetie Belle has been showing him the ropes for his mathematics homework. They've been getting along quite well and he's made progress with his personal work too. Making a few small and tiny sculptures for new friends that he's made at school.

With a small and content smile I found my vial of ink and my pen where I had left them. Cold and calling to me from the table top. I pulled some extra paper from my bags and flattened them out, noticing the wrinkles and tears in their corners with a sigh. My travel has not been kind to them and they've aged poorly. I began writing my letters back to those who addressed me. As I did, I began to remember each of them more clearly and eventually my mind grew weary and my heart ached. I'd begun to realize the feeling of being homesick. I began writing several times only to begin again when my tears soiled the page.

Ginger came up to give me what breakfast I had missed. She found me in my frustrated sulking. I'm not sure how my tears found her shoulder. I'm glad that she was there though, I had almost ruined my last piece of paper, one that I could use for my letters home.

#124
Winter. Day 135. Morning. Teal Deer Tavern.

In spite of my homesickness, yesterday was the busiest I had ever been in a while. First Ginger took me to a shop that specialized in nothing but books and paper. So many of them seemed outrageously priced to me until Ginger began comparing them like precious stones. One example I remember fondly were two empty books. Both meant for average use: journals, notes, simple sketches, what have you. And while they both had their individual and incredibly ornate differences, the material of what was used to construct each book founded their prices. Softer paper was more expensive and rough less so. A durable cover that could bend is worth more than one that could easily be spoilt. There were a good portion that were just for show.

I wound up going for a book that was almost identical to my old one. The store merchant said I had a good eye for picking it out. Not many went for ones that had nothing more than latched covers and good paper. It will still be quite some time before I get to use it. Ginger said it was a good pick too. Got a few vials of ink and a couple more pens from that place too plus a small pack of loose leaf.

Then Ginger lead me to a tailor, where we were both met with an enthusiastic owner. We needed proper attire, as a naked citizen was often considered a beggar. An owner with three small glowing orbs with wings like dragonflies that buzzed around the room. He pulled me away from Ginger even with the knowledge that I couldn't speak his language. His little fairies fetched what equipment he needed and pulled me into a back room.

While he collapsed and stretched his tape measure, he hummed a tune to himself. His three fairies of blue, yellow, and pink hummed along with him. The tune was merry and slow and light. Strangely, it quieted my nervousness and set my mind at ease. Some part of me thought to hear the words of his language. After some writing he finished his little song and the fairies carried his tools away. He took Ginger afterward and shortly thereafter, gave her back. She paid for his work and we left, making our way back to the tavern.

When we arrived, we found the entrance guarded by two minotaur soldiers, armored head to hoof. Ginger and I were taken aback at first but as we approached, they let us pass. When we entered the tavern, we found out why they were there: a noble from Hestan. One well in good standings of the royal family. As it turns out Ginger knew him as well, Clear Wing was his name. A pony of high stature, kept his mane and tail short and smooth. Shined wonderfully, too. A fairytale prince in a way but his obvious need for a cane kept him from such adventures.

He had come to discuss the whereabouts of Ginger's father with Garlic. He had a fair idea but his informant had gone missing. The reunion between Clear Wing and Ginger changed the matter entirely. How she had faired in the northern cold, her mother's death, and her return home. From there the subject changed to me. To my fortune, Clear spoke Equestrian but was unsure if the words he was using were proper. I told him that I was teleported away while trying to save my mother. I'm not sure why I haven't told anyone the full story. After that he left to fulfill some other obligations he had.

The rest of the evening was filled with noisy customers and several lessons in manners from Garlic late into the night. Firstly, placement of the silverware: forks on the left, knives and spoons on the right. Secondly, placement of the plates and bowls and glasses were familiar enough. Third was that each patron gets two napkins, one for the lips and the other for lap. Tonight we will be discussing what and what not to eat and how to properly drink. I'm curious as to how it'll play out.

#125
Winter. Day 136. Morning. Teal Deer Tavern.

Well, last night was a little more than interesting. Garlic had closed the Tavern early in order to clean up the place after all her regulars had left. Garlic practically laid out a buffet on several tables she had placed side-by-side, covered by a single large tablecloth she kept around. She laid out things that were typically found at noble dinners. Chicken, potatoes, apples, pears, berries, lettuce, ham, a variety of white and yellow cheeses, pineapples and the inner layers of white pine tree bark. Plenty of different breads as well. To drink were things like wine, hard cider, honeyed milk tea, burdock root, and barley.

I had a taste of it all, and it was all good. I was cautious on the wine and cider though. I hadn't gotten drunk before but I've seen Flight Gear's drunkenness before and its a saddening thing. He becomes depressed and moody, his language foul. Never brought out his anger though. And then there was Apricot, though she was drinking normal cider, it seems it still affected her as hard cider would have.

Ginger however, drank as much as she could handle. Made her all smiles and a bit of a blabbermouth. She still managed to keep her manners in check and her voice from a nonsensical yelling. Dulled her tastes too, as she had a few pieces of the chicken and ham. Needless to say it made her stomach a bit upset later, among other things.

Fortunately, Garlic made arrangements for such a thing and had me take her out back to an enclosed alleyway. It was no bathroom, but it worked. It was better than letting the smell of vomit and shit waft through the tavern air. Garlic brought out a few blankets from our room to cover Ginger up with. It would bothersome if she were to get sick and the night was rather cold. I stayed up, worried for her health. This felt similar to when I had helped Twilight out her dress awhile back.

After Ginger's stomach had settled and I had fetched her the last glass of water she needed, she spoke wearily, “Letter, you're such a nice boy. You've thought about getting a mare to yourself, haven't you?” The fog of her breath came from every word.

“I already have one.”

“Regardless, I would gladly take you.”

A bit flustered, I smiled, “I'm afraid I must decline. You've a kingdom to see to and I have places to go.”

“Who said I had to rule after this is over? I am a barbarian, after all”

“I imagine barbarians being a little more crude and wild.”

“You misunderstand, Letter. Anyone without proper clothes could be barbarians here. More so in Vesta. You remember Fisher and Hisser, right?” I nodded. “Well, they were wild as untamed drozards. Razed homes for weeks during the longest nights. It took weeks to finally beat them down; to break and reform them. They were barbarians and I had become one trying to tame them.”

“Good thing you didn't turn into one while you were drunk earlier.”

“Believe me you, I still am.”

“How so?”

She roused up and out of the blankets I had gently covered her with. Gestured for my hoof, I complied. Oh how that was a terrible idea. She quickly twisted my foreleg, forcing my back to the ground. With another quick and fluid motion, she placed pressure on both my wings with her back legs. “Pegasi wings, they're weak and fragile in any size and form. Hollow bones make good for light weight.” She kept her hoof on mine, forcing my leg into an awkward position where movement strained the muscles. “You swing with the other hoof, I pin it the same as that one.” She pointed with her eyes. “Your back legs will do nothing but flail. If you had magic at your command a blast would do. But nigh, I would've had you unconscious already.”

“I see your point.”

“You do not.” Confusion strung me up like a lost sheep. And as soon as I began to spoke, she struck me with a passionate kiss. Which I did not feel myself at all rejecting of despite her breath reeking of alcohol. She pulled away seeing how flushed red my face had turned. “Now you do.” Barbarian. She lifted herself off of me and covered herself back up.

My heart turned to a strong pounding and my mind became immensely puzzled. I didn't think that I would ever kiss another mare other than Apricot. Gingers lips were rough but she could move them like silk. Apricot 's were soft and gentle. I hope some part of me isn't falling for Ginger. I wish to remain true and honest to Apricot. I'm not quite sure if she'll remember what she had done. Her memory seems impeccable.

Aside from learning her kingdom's language, I may have to learn to become a barbarian as well. It may prove effective later down the road.

#126
Winter. Day 137. Evening. Teal Deer Tavern.

Ginger and I fetched our new clothes from the tailor this morning. Each of us received a set of three. Each of ours were simple shades blue or brown with darker embroidered stripes worked in. I liked them. The tailor did good work and the clothes he crafted felt they could last quite some time with the proper care.

Headed back to the tavern afterward. The place was practically empty again, despite it being around lunchtime. We rehearsed again our manners without the grand buffet this time. A simple lunch of large salads instead was good enough.

“Something I've been meaning to ask, Letter.”

“About?”

“That hunk of metal we found you wearing when you came here. What is it, exactly?”

I hummed a second, finding some basic words for it. “A flight suit, pretty much. But it has a very specific enhancement focused on speed. My mentor made it for me for my job so long as I helped him out on the docks when I could. Before I became a courier, of course.” It was the only way that I could've caught up to the ship that took my mother.”

“That's... amazing. How does it work exactly?”

“It would be easier to show you than to explain. My mentor is years ahead of his time with this stuff. It's kind of funny though, he's a unicorn yet he knows everything possible about flight.”

“You don't have to be a pegasus to know flight that well. You recall what I said to you two nights ago? Royalty and nobles around here aren't just for show, Letter. Studies are what get us through ranks.”

“I imagine that must get frustrating after awhile.” I smirked.

She shrugged, “It does. Most of it is at times trivial. Other times precious and valuable. With this kingdom's population, knowledge can become skewed and biased. Finding what's right can be incredibly difficult. As a result, some things may be out of place.”

“Like?”

“Books, mostly. The Bibliotheca has many books that are improperly filed. History texts may wind up in fiction or mythology sections and fiction might wind up in non-fiction because someone else was proven right.”

I chuckled to myself, “I know someone who would be absolutely furious about a poorly organized library.”

“And who would that be?”

“Twilight Sparkle. She's all about books. Lives in a library too.”

“That's a bit excessive. I guess if you want reference work nearby, you don't have to go far.”

“This Bibliotheca,” I said slowly. “How far back do you think the history books go?”

She danced some numbers around in her head. “Should be since the founding of the kingdom itself. So five thousand or so years ago. Give or take one thousand.”

“So six thousand at the most. That's far longer than Equestria has been around. Strange that Celestia doesn't know where this place is then. Luna is unable to find it too, even from the moon...” I dug through my thoughts and remembered one of the spells from the Volumes. “Ginger! The Sky Spear! Does it use magic?”

“What...what are you on about? Bolt's medicine isn't getting to your head again is it?”

“No, I am perfectly sane I assure you. The tower uses magic to hide the kingdom.”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “What are you even getting at? Why would the tower even have need of that?”

“Enemies, hiding an arena, staying off maps.” I lowered my voice. “You said your brother wasn't exactly fit for the throne, didn't you?”

“I did.”

“We need to head to Hestan.”

“Don't get ahead of yourself, Letter. We don't even know where to start looking.”

“I do.” Clear Wing butted in, taking an empty chair. “My informant showed up at my doorstep and not in the best of shapes, either. Letter's guess is right, dear. “I've got a couple contacts. I can get you two in the royal castle as my new servants. If the two of you are-”

“I will not!” Ginger slammed her hooves to the table, causing a violent rattle. For a second, I heard the wood crack. She glared at Clear Wing, “You may be a fellow noble and you know who I am. I will not lower myself to that level.”

“Ginger, calm down. We can't blow this now.” I said. She glared at me and sat down. The table creaked as she lifted her hooves from it. Turning to Clear, I continued, “What other options are available? Apprentices, adopted children, squires?”

Clear scratched his chin with the pommel of his cane, “Well, each suggestion is good. Unless... Letter, you're a courier, correct?” I nodded. “Good. Ginger, what about you? Have you anything?”

“I can translate for Letter pretty well. So that's something.”

“Then it's settled!” Clear tapped his cane against the floor. “Letter, you'll act as what you are. Ginger, you'll be a translator for him. Stick to each other and if anyone asks, you're under my care. If they ask what for, just tell them I'm looking into estates for a client. Vacation homes.”

“What about getting there? To Hestan. Ginger's mentioned drozards.”

“I have three in the eastern stables. I can buy two more easily enough.” He shrugged. “Depends if the stable master has enough though. They do sell like cakes, after all.”

“That's true.” Ginger added.

“I'll have to get my emblem reproduced first before we leave. You two won't be able to get around the castle much without it. I'll have proper clothes done as well.”

The conversations of speculations and our plan droned on well into the late afternoon. Clear left before dinner, wanting to fill out the orders as soon as he could. After a long dinner, Ginger and I headed back to our room. Where I began to write up a letter to those who had sent me them. Ginger on the other hoof planted herself into her bed.

I made my letters as short as I could to hopefully ease the strain on the stone. I made a note to Celestia about my theory and asked her for her or Twilight's opinion on it. It's a wild guess on my part, but it's not entirely impossible either. If the storms I broke, in a sense, were creations of magic then surely other spells of that scale were possible.

To Apricot, I wrote about some of the strange animals that I had seen out in the fields and the sight of this city. I wrote similar things to my father and sister and thank yous to the townsfolk. Although, to my father, I added that it was Idol who revealed the plot to me, and that he should be thanked in some way. Pointedly adding that he should be cautious about it, considering the facts.

In the next few days, I hope that we leave Hestan without a hitch. I hope that history won't repeat itself and that Ginger's father is in no serious harm. The same for her sisters as well. I wonder how big her family truly is.

I wonder how large the Bibliotheca truly is and if it holds anything of relevance to the Designer and his work. I wonder when the next time I'll meet the Designer will be. I need to work out some more of my mother's scrollwork from her volume. Recent happenings have been delaying me from that work. I'll likely dedicate the entirety of tomorrow to it.

#127
Winter. Day 138. Evening. Teal Deer Tavern.

I kept to my word, only breaking from the room for food and drink when needed. I wound up using a good portion of paper and the new ink we'd bought. My mother's scrollwork had gotten more complex and intricate as I got further in. Deciphering became difficult as her writing became smaller. My eyes strained in doing so. I had tacked each translated page to the wall and the sun had already settled by the time I was done with the first twenty pages. I only had a hundred more to go.

On another note, Ginger was bored as a spoiled cat. It was funny to see her whine about something.

#128
Winter. Day 139. Evening. Teal Dear Tavern.

I took a short break from my work this afternoon to show Ginger how my Gold Arrow, my flight equipment, worked. I had to have help me put it on however. Which was actually a bit frustrating, as she didn't know what most of the parts were even called. We went just outside of the city so there was plenty of space for me to fly around. That and the noise the engine creates would attract unwanted attention.

I started up the engine to hear the familiar whir of the turbine, a bit louder than what I remember. I took off with a running start, stumbled, recovered, took off. I gained enough altitude to soar over the tallest building in the city. From here, I could see the vague outlines of two other cities in the distance. And towards Hestan, I could see more support structures dotting the landscape. The Sky Spear was still a looming piece of work though. Even on a clear dear such as this, it was hard to see the top due to the sun's light. I wonder what it's like at the top.

I made several laps around Pecken before landing. The familiar feeling of flight was strange and new, but refreshing. I had been grounded for so long that had almost forgotten the feeling. I fudged my landing a bit, almost panicked trying to remember how to turn the engine off.

Ginger was actually excited about seeing me fly around. Said that flight around here wasn't a common thing. As I she helped me out of my equipment, she recalled that pegasi in the kingdom weren't common. A rarity and any that were around didn't fly around all that much. I pointed out that flight didn't seem to be of much use around here aside from the tower. She agreed.

We headed back to the tavern then, the streets strangely empty. Uncomfortably so. We arrived at the tavern to find it well emptied. Garlic was idly tending to the bar, chatting with Clear. Ginger and I took our own seats there and greeted them warmly. Clear pulled his reproduced emblems from the pocket of his robe and slid them over to us. “The proper attires will be ready tomorrow, we shall leave the day after. Plenty of time for preparation, yes?” With both nodded in agreement. “Wonderful. I shall see to making rooms for you two once we arrive at the castle.”

“Don't you own an entire mansion, Clear?” Ginger asked.

“I didn't mean rooms in the castle, dear.” He closed an eye lightly. “My mansion would be the better place as it stands. The castle has been rummaged and messy ever since your brother's temper tantrum.” Opened his eye and sighed. “Threw it after you and your mother left. Nutmeg, as you've said, is not fit to be.”

“What about my sisters?”

“They're fine. They're in hiding at my estate. Nutmeg isn't the smartest when it comes to finding folk. He never took his time to learn about the other nobles.”

“That's good then.”

We ate and drank a bit more until the sun went down. I had my first taste of ale too. It's an odd concoction but it was something I could grow used to. After dinner I went to work on translating my mother's scrollwork. I finished another twenty pages by candlelight, all the while answering what few questions Ginger asked me about it. I've begun to recognize the pattern that my mother used to embed the script. Hopefully, by tomorrow's end I'll be finished with the work. Then begins reading through it again, to what meaning there is to it.

#129
Winter. Day 140. Evening. Teal Deer Tavern.

I've finished working out the last of the scrollwork. Numbers and directions, hints and clues and jabs at geography. However, I still need to piece this together in order to form something more coherent, more readable. After that, I'll have to find a guide or a cartographer. If I can get some one who can read these numbers properly, then that would be even better. Perhaps the Bibliotheca will help with the matter.

That matter aside, we leave tomorrow. I hope all goes well and I don't wind up with a throbbing headache. I had drank a little too much ale, not enough to make me sick to my stomach, however. It's a wonder that I'm even able to write coherently at this point.

Still, in spite of this drunken happiness, I still have a growing concern. Almost like a screw slowly turning my gut and slowly burning my mind.

Chapter 10: Onward to Hestan

#131
Winter. Day 141. Evening. Royal Fields

I woke early, before the sun even rose. Hopped out of bed and found that I had a single letter from Celestia. My eyes bleary, I read through it slowly. Once more for the words I missed. She consulted Twilight, as I figured she would. After some time, they set up a working model according to what descriptions I had given. The probability of the using the tower as a conduit for magic was possible, so long as there was a proper charge. In essence, my theory was correct. Still, the question why remained.

Breaking me from my thought, Ginger placed her forelegs around my shoulders and her head atop of mine. “So, were you right?”

“In a sense yes but the question of why Nutmeg would want the kingdom hidden is still there. Once we get to the tower or the Bibliotheca, we should be able to find out quite a bit more. Are you excited to see your sisters?”

“Not particularly, we sisters tended to fight often.”

“That's unfortunate.” I remarked as I began to pack up my notes. “Maybe you'll be able to able to sort them out.” I humored.

She lightly laughed behind her teeth. “Maybe. Maybe they've sorted themselves out. Which I really hope they have. An troublesome bunch really.”

“That would be nice. You'll have to introduce me to them, then.”

“If they're not busy. Royalty always have matters to attend to. I'm sure you're already aware of such things.”

“More than you know.”

She pulled herself away, “Oh, interesting. How so?”

“Three princesses, a king and a queen. The three princesses I'm friends with, the king and queen, not so much.”

“Why is that?”

“Different kingdoms. Equestria is ruled by two princesses and the third one doesn't really have a kingdom. The king and queen rule over Light Fringe. Two different places, days apart.”

I heard her begin to shuffle through her clothes, followed by a brief pause. “You don't include me as a princess, despite my status?”

“You are barbarian, remember?”

“Of course.” she huffed. “And if I were a lost duckling, what then?”

“A lost duckling.”

“If I were a run away child of royalty with the title?”

“Which title?” I asked, turning in my chair to her. She had taken on the splendor of the rising sun bouncing off the short dress that Clear Wing had commissioned. It was a lovely thing. Adorned with the royal colors of white, dark green, and indigo and most importantly, Clear's family crest. The head of a lion with an open mouth. The colors shimmered rather nicely too. She was befitting of her title, at least in beauty. I know nothing of her leadership.

“Princess, of course. What other titles are there?”

“Then princess and there's archduke, duke, duchess, prince, count, earl, baroness. There's quite a few more, of course.”

“I get it.” she groaned. “Does it look well?”

“It does.” she smiled at that. “Now all you need is a crown.” I humored.

“I'll have to get it back from my brother first.”

“Right, of course. I just hope that all goes well.”

“'Hope'? That's a funny word, isn't it.” she snickered, moving away from the window and towards me. “If there's anything to hope for, is that this 'Rebirth' of your mother's doesn't occur.” She continued past and toward the door, her bags laid over her back. “If anything, I hope you don't develop some fear that dumbfounds you.” I remained silent, having nothing smart to retort with. “Get your papers packed, you egghead. We've longer days ahead of us and I'd rather not have you making them longer.”

“Yes, milady.” I saw her eyes flare a moment, then letting it go with a sigh. Part of me thinks that she actually likes that respect, but hates the term. As she left the room, I began packing my books and paper, and my flight equipment. I think, despite it only being a few days, that my mind had begun to settle here. The city reminded me much of home, only a scale tenfold of home.

I met Ginger and Clear Wing just outside the bedroom doors, saying their farewells to Garlic. I said mine to her as well, as best I could. She gave me a rather strong hug, one that told me she appreciated my company. A mother's hug to her missed child. Truthfully, if I hadn't had other matters more stressing, I could easily call Pecken home.

We left the tavern then, escorted by Clear's two guards and to the eastern stables. It was a long walk to the stables. The further we went, the more the air opened up, fewer towers lingering over us, guiding us through a fenced field of lush and green grass. Overrun by weed and wild flowers. The stables seemed typical enough, only larger. Boards and log beams thicker than my torso kept it standing and held the thatched roof well above it. As they needed to be, drozards are no small things.

The front end had a simple desk and large retracting gate leading into the stable. Clear Wing approached a minotaur stable master working hard to distract him from repairing some frayed twine. Clear put on his noble smile and greeted him kindly, the minotaur replied with remarkable familiarity. There was the gesture of suggestion, followed by obvious thought, then complication.

The loud clanking of the steel gate grabbed at my ears, Clear motioned us forward. The minotaur bowing as he let us pass. He brought the gate to a close and took the lead again. The smell of those stables were surprisingly swell. Perhaps the work of magic to keep it from smelling too terrible. Ginger seemed surprised about it too. The minotaur instructed us to stop and opened the gate to one of the many gates in these rather dwarfing stables.

He lead out a single drozard, not as large as the ones as I had seen out in the fields. Regardless, its sleek and took on a blue on white dappled look. Its eyes were a bright and vivid green. It had already been saddled and haltered with tough leather and rawhide. Steel and iron rings connecting the long lines of the reins to the halter. Before giving the drozard to Clear, he warned him about something.

After all was said and done, Ginger and I were stuck riding that drozard, aptly named Leopard. His smaller size lead him to picked on by the larger drozards, so we trailed behind Clear and his guards. I had never gone that fast across the ground, surely Gold Arrow is quicker, but Ginger said that they were capable of going faster. Despite the fact I had to keep my head down just to keep the wind from forcing my eyes closed.

As we continued crossing the plains, I could finally see how truly massive the Sky Spear was. It could easily eclipse the sun and its shadow could stagnate whatever it claimed. Looking around, I noticed that the entire kingdom was encircled by nothing but mountains. Which is leading me to think they may be acting as a perimeter for the tower's magic, if it truly exists. It may become more apparent the closer we get.

For the time being, we're letting the drozards rest. The sun was already drifting into the early evening when we left, now it's gone beyond the spiky horizon. The moon is invisible tonight, but the sky is clear and bright. Strange how that works. Perhaps Luna is looking out for me, as silly as that sounds. The sound of strange crickets chirping and quiet wind is all that really fills the air right now. There is no fire tonight as the body heat of the drozards is keeping us warm.

Tomorrow we should arrive at Hestan's main gates. We should be able to get through them without much trouble. Clear Wing has made sure of it. Still, in spite of comfort, I've found myself unable to sleep. Ginger has found herself in the same boat as well. She has been watching me scribble my words down by dim candlelight. Enjoys the sound of it, apparently.

I've come to learn that these plains are called the Royal Fields through what hushed whispers her and I have been sharing. A few constellations as well: Ponce, Alexan, and Joha. Strange names certainly but to her they have significance. As a result, I've gone back to the few sporadic sketches I had and named them accordingly. With her help of course. Ponce was a balled flame, Alexan was a helmed skull of a minotaur, and Joha was the head of a broken spear. They all had their legends and their fates intertwined. Tales that she didn't explain, as much interest I had of them.

#132
Winter. Day 142. Early Morning. Royal Fields.

This morning was brought on by a beautiful sky. It'd been a long while since I've seen the sun in it's fiery majesty and grace. Colors warming my eyes like a soft painting and the shattered rays dancing among the eclipsing mountains. The tall grass and flowers glinting brightly across the plain. A painting that would take years to perfect in every hue. I've never thought much about such a place, but it's brought a smile to my face.

Perhaps I was just glad it was morning. I found no sleep last night thanks to who knows what. I will admit, my mind has not been at much ease ever since I've begun my chase. We ride soon, Clear and his guards are checking their inventory. There's mischievous critters that come out at night.

Chapter 11: Fervor

#133
Winter. Day 142. Late Evening. Lancet Mansion

We rode for some hours before we came upon the stables to Hestan. The ride was quiet and I had finally found my sleep along the way. My bleary focus cleared after Ginger forced me off the drozard. I noticed that the stable master was quite a bit less cheery than the one we had met in Pecken. Still, we carried on to the first main gate.

Hestan's walls, as with everything else in this kingdom, is massive and so are the walls that were placed further in. The Sky Spear is behind the fifth wall, but I still feel like it would take another day to get there. It is both mind boggling and sobering to think about. If I craned my neck up and squinted my eyes hard enough, it's peak was still invisible.

Hestan is far different than Pecken. While everything was finer and grand and flowed like a whirlpool, it was troubling how quiet it was. As if noise troubled the guards and disturbed Sky Spear. Strange how that would be with its five layers of great walls each gated three times over with steel lattice. Those gates were incredibly quiet too. As if a breath made stone and iron crumble.

While there was bustle, it was silent. Every one moved along keeping to themselves, their eyes low and fixed, dark and dull. What merchants and traders there were, they didn't call out to the wandering crowds and waited for some stirred interest instead. Our little group blended in well among these crawling crowds. We'd take one street and depart to turn down another. For a time, I felt trapped in boxed maze and the homes and walls only stood to make one cower. Suffocatingly so.

As such, seeing Clear Wing's manor was much needed fresh air. More so once we got inside. His mansion was like any other, filled to the brim with seemingly useless luxuries. Luxuries some find themselves to enjoy only in conversation or inspiration. Only the shape of the shortly pointed and ribbed halls caught my eyes. Their work of dark wood and strange smell matching the musty narrow rug. The single chandelier held a single pitched torch, its smoke through a small vent directly above. Though poorly lit, it was still a fair sight better than what was outside.

Clear instructed Ginger and I to wait a bit. If we were going to act as nobles, when needed a nice bath. I still had that soot staining my fur. Nearly forgot. A maid fetched us with word, mildly excited to see Ginger but shot me down with her eyes. Daggers they are, steel blue and brown edged. Her pale brown mane and tail were cut short but her fetlocks were kept long. Across her coat were dark stripes like Zecora's. Where the white should be, taken by an even darker color.

The maid brought us to the bathhouse. Inside it split into two paths brightly lit and respectively, they parted the genders. The maid pulled Ginger away and I was left alone. I went around the lit corner, brazened bright in gold and tan paints and white tiled floors. I stripped myself of my bags and noble robe, piling them on a shelf beside stacks of white towels and rags. Each embroidered with Clear's family crest.

I grabbed one and headed for a doorway further in, curtained with folding reeds. On the other side, a small square bath carved into the floor, filled with water. Soap and shampoo and conditioner of all sorts lined the opposite side. I can imagine the reasons why but I would never have need for such a selection. There's another two small pools like this beside me, unconnected and lined the same. I suppose if there's multiple folk that choose to use the baths at once, it was possible.

I placed the towel on a nearby metal stand, foggy by the pool's steam and slowly lowered myself in. The warmth chilled and shocked me at first but I forced myself and relaxed. I soaked for awhile then moved on to scrub what. At the end of it, the soot failed to fall away completely. It would take time instead of a bath. I dried off and redressed, feeling refreshed and then waited in the hall for Ginger to come out.

Clear Wing came by and took me away before that could happen however. Guided me to my room with useless chatter. It's similar to the Teal Deer's room Ginger and I stayed in, only larger and far more luxurious. The bed had a canopy and enough room for three. Drapes and blankets of silk and linen. Pillows softer than sheep's fur with threads finely sown, stitching small as a bead. Floors and walls in the darkest wood and light brought on by oil lamps clung to the walls.

There's a window too, looking to the Sky Spear. A clear view too, but it still held no sight of its tip. The clouds guarded the point and held nothing but dread. Even with the setting sun painting them orange and blue they held it. I imagine Nutmeg is sitting atop it, staring down either without a care or lost in them.

In my thought, a knocking at the door. I opened it to see those dagger eyes again. They gazed at me differently this time. Through and thorough instead of glancing. She gave an asking look, compelling me to welcome her. I did and she let herself in, closing the door behind her lightly as she could.

I watched as she moved to the bed with a flow to her body. Like a slow creek over stone. She took off her dark orange dress frilled white at the hem with a stroke of her hoof. She glanced back at me, invitingly and pushed the thin purple drapes aside. I stared at her, confused but the curiosity gripped me. Drawn in, I joined her on the bed with her eyes never breaking from mine. I lied on my hooves, head up and eyes back at her.

She moved quietly took one of my wings, forced it to splay outward to feel my feathers. Did the same with my other wing, pausing when she came across the missing feather from my small fight. Folded them back and coursed her hoof through my mane. She placed her forehead against mine and whispered a rhyme beneath her breath. I felt my mind start to become prodded and tugged and an unbearable itch fell through my entirety.

Pulling away, gasping as if the air had left her. Then I saw one of those wisps that have been eluding my sight. It floated around her head, danced even. She reached at my chest and pulled one from me. An odd feeling, like string through the hoof. She brought them together and they fought and ruptured until they became one. I was a fair bit more confused now than before. “Hear me?” Her voice came through without a twitch of her lips.

I nodded. My mind began rambling with questions. “How?”

“Ritual, ages old in my tribe.” Chose her words carefully. “You brought Ginger safely home. Happy.” Her expression remained unchanged. “You will be leaving after this. Find king. Yes. Happy. Everyone. Then go home. You have matters of your own.”

“I do.” Felt myself speak like she did. “Can you teach me this?”

“Cannot. Learn on own, you will.” Answered before I could ask, “Find it, you will.” She brought her nose closer to mine, blinking once. “Teach you this I must.” She pulled the wisps apart and forced my half back into my chest where it slowly dissolved. With that smooth movement she leaned in and forced her lips to mine. Her old lips sent chills down my spine, my hooves trembled. I could feel my life being sucked from me until heart and mind caught aflame.

I kissed back, my eyes closed as my body became overwhelmed by desire. To have her as my own. Love her continuously through many nights. To care for and protect. To marry and bear children with. And care for nothing else. It was a delightful ecstacy, those thoughts. As I sought to bring her on her back, I felt something in my mind break. A wall crumbling under the force of water. Then the feel of daggers behind my eyes. I reeled away, gripping at my eyes. The fire snuffed by storms.

She looked on while I continued trying to pry my eyes away. The feel of them thorned the sockets and angered me. Panic set in then too. Ringing grated my ears until I became breathless. My legs collapsed and sought to speak, my lungs failing that. My head found the pillow beside her. She smiled at me. “Good.” she smiled.

I coughed. “Why... Why all this?” I found myself recalling the feeling when my mother's other half had instilled the burden of the Designer's script. The hallucinations that had set in after and the aching I became infuriated with.

“Good heart. Treat them both well.” She turned over, daggers of her eyes dulled. “After waking, you will know the deed.” Put on her dress, smooth as grass in the wind. “Find your answers carefully, Letter.”

She left me like a dead fish on a dock. I can already see the nightmares settling in. Making their homes out my fears and thoughts I never had. Forging their teeth from perpetual lies and anger. Their claws sharpened by the grindstone. Eyes deeper than the Grand River's fog. And now, as my eyes tire and fade, they forge their weapons from my kindness.

#134
Winter. Day 143(?). Morning. Lancet Mansion.

I was right about my nightmares. Some too vague to remember clearly, another batch that frightened me but I couldn't remember. Piercing pains the thorned vines entangling me in my dreams still felt fresh and new. Their poison reeking my breath and sodded my mind. The maid's kiss burned the edge of my lips. I awoke to that feeling, tucked under the thick blankets of the bed. Tightly too, a bear would have to tear them away.

I found my journal at my side, quill and well placed delicately. So softly they didn't budge the covers. After finding my strength, I forced my forelegs free though the pain ached in every movement. My wincing didn't help either. What the maid has done, I haven't a clue. What I do know is that I need an answer from her. Figure out what riddle she's giving me. She knew my name and of Apricot. Find my answers carefully. My thoughts are still scrambled and I still don't have the answer I should. Perhaps I've woken up earlier than expected.

Alas, that appears to be wrong. My eyes caught a slow shift of a fold in my journal's pages. They'd only done so when I went to close the book. I opened them up as my eyes started aching. What unveiled after unfolding the paper were directions to the Bibliotheca and how to get the books I needed. On the other side was a short note from the maid, “You are a great lover. Shame about your memory and mother. Let go. You will have to. -Daggresa” At the least, I know her name now. Still, the sleeping part is confounding.

For now I intend to rest my mind, if I can at all.

#135
Winter. Day 147. Morning. Lancet Mansion.

I stirred awake by the sound of birds. Small scarlet things fluttering about in their thinly rodded cage. I can recall their quick songs from my dreams. I found my journal and quill where I'd left them. They held me in a far nicer place, a garden so grand it ceased to end. I was there alone, treated kindly by some face I can't remember. Ethereal mane and tail is the most I can recall. If there's a princess of dreams, then she's found me. Whether that should bring a smile or a frown, I hadn't a clue.

Relatedly, there a mixture of another dream there. Left me breathless and panting, hungering for more. The memories are flashes and glimpses, but my muscles could recall the movement. The sway of my hips and the ache in my gut. The quaking in my shoulders and a final tremble of my body. As I think about it, I could very nearly hear a moan and my lips burning. “Daggresa.” I recalled. She had taught me sex. Something I had never put much thought into even having heard lewd tales from old friends. Why she had impaired me is something I still have to find out.

“You're awake, I see.” a low voice whispered from my side. All too familiar, that whisper. “Your quill, is noisy.”

I shot her a glance. “Daggresa, could you explain? Can you?” I felt a strangeness on my lips then, not quite making familiar movements.

“It's been explained.”

Impatience climbed my throat, I held it down, “You've had me sleeping then. With your poison kisses.”

“Poison? Ni.” she refuted.

“Then why was I asleep and sick?”

“Sleep? You never were. Lost yourself, you did. Consumed by lust and sweet anger. A beautiful thing.”

It made me smile, as if part of me knew what she meant. Part of me confused still. “And the nightmares I had?”

“I know not of them. You fell ill, the first time. You ran mad with a fever. Too long in the baths, I think.”

I am accepting of her answers. She didn't lie, the way she spoke told me she didn't have the capacity to. Still I wonder what drove us together. A bemusing thought and memory. “What's with the birds?” Again, my tongue made unfamiliar movements. At least, I felt like they did.

“I brought them. My pets. Ginger asked me to watch over you. So...” she trailed off. A first.

“You brought them as something to do.” It made me wonder though, if the bland nature of the streets outside was merely a mask and what's kept locked away behind doors is where all their joy lies. Caged and singing from closed windows. “Understandable. Has Ginger made any progress?”

“Her sisters, they've busied her. Clear Wing busies himself far more.”

I lured my mind away from that. “The Bibliotheca, can you help me with that?”

She remained silent. I almost repeated my question, she answered. “I can. You need rest.”

“I feel wide awake, more than ever.” I went to move my back legs, they failed. She raised an eyebrow, silently laughing at me. My cheeks warmed. “I guess I do.” My mind ached a bit, I could feel its exhaustion. “How long has it been, anyways?”

“Four days since.” She traced a hoof down my foreleg. “Never have I seen one sleep that long.”

I conversation ended there. I continued my writing, she seemed to listen to what music my quill strokes made. If there's even music there. Still held a wonderment for my wings too. Never seen a pair as big as mine, nor as graceful. I am still unsure about how sex came about and I'm nervous to ask. I recall how I felt when she first kissed me, when I loomed over her. I'm curious about the ritual of hers, to take a wisp and bend it to her will. What even are these wisps?

#136
Spring. Day 148. Noon. Lancet Mansion.

I've set to exploring some of the study in the mansion, Daggresa lead me there. Not a single book in regards to the tower. Odd considering that it's the middle of this damned city. I have found a multitude of history books and genealogies, that's a new word, of the royal and most noble lines. Hestan is ancient and comparing it to what memory I have of Canterlot, this kingdom has it beat. It's borders began at the tower and stretched outward until it claimed each of the cities it now holds within this bowl of land. Again, any mention of the tower seems hard to find. Sure they've named it and they know it's been there longer than the kingdom has but I can't help the feeling that it's purpose has been kept from the citizens.

When I bored myself with the history, I sought to find anything related to the wisps. A foul search, honestly. I cursed a few times when my eyes couldn't find the words. Daggresa found it for me, while sat still in a chair, calming myself. She took her own time reading fairy tales. Should I called them that now, given the facts? I suppose it wouldn't matter.

When my eyes ached, I asked her about a few of the stories. One told me the story of a boy who caught the name of the moon in a box. Which explained the waxing and waning of it and why it hung during the day. Another was of a mare who was crowned a princess. She had a kingfisher as a pet. There was a difference between hers and my mother's, the kingfisher was more a ghost than a solid thing and there was never a river. Instead it was at the docks of an ocean. Ended all the same. Lastly, a story of a colt whose mother had harmed him and run away. He found her years later and forgave her despite her wind keeping him at bay.

I nearly cried at the last one, knowing the feeling. I wanted to cry, I did. Perhaps I've become tired of it.

I've barely been able to see Ginger. Part of me wants to believe that she's being kept away from me. The other is accepting the facts of family. She has a lot of catching up to do after all. I wonder if she tires of dresses. This robe of mine has become irritable. Any speck of dirt seems to crawl its way throughout and make it that way. I haven't a clue about Clear Wing. I assume he's on matters far more important.

On another note, I've received another letter. This one from Princess Luna, she's found me through my nightmare. Saved me from its killing. It was difficult for her not to transform back into Nightmare Moon. I'll have to apologize for that. While her sister was delighted, honestly strange, that she found me, she's unable to come down to this part of the world from the moon. Tomorrow she would try one of the routes I had mentioned in my letters. I'm hopeful for her arrival, anxious even, but I still have business here.

#137
Spring. Day 149. Evening. Lancet Mansion.

It seems that Clear Wing was out collecting the information for his plan to usurp the arena. Well, more than what already has. Daggresa and I have continued research of our own. Making way to the Bibliotheca and what we found helped us more than Clear's study. I found more information on the tower. It was something that was found incomplete and ruined. There's discrepancies and some debate between the state in which it was found.

One says that it was already completed before but destroyed and the other hints that it was still heavily incomplete. The on thing that they did agree on was the true purpose of the tower is a mystery. I had an itching what it could be, a Design. Which is still questionable. I read more into some of the discoveries that came about with tower. One in particular struck me as rather interesting, a mechanism that folded and unfolded according to a predetermined shape. They hadn't figured out how it actually functioned however. Where it's wound up, wasn't mentioned.

On another note, I've realized that it's spring or close to the season at home. Which may explain the reasoning behind my sudden sexual desires. Spring fever a bit too literally, to be honest. It is a wonderful feeling though, sex I mean. Especially when you're awake for it. I can imagine the ways where that sweet anger wouldn't be the case, however. Still, I wonder why Daggresa is so accepting of me. She seemed at first, rejecting of my presence. It wasn't until after the fever she flipped sides. I haven't had the time to sit and think about it. These books and my continued translation work have kept my nose in a book.

Books are such wonderful things. There's so much knowledge and wonderment there, entire worlds written and scrawled onto pages and bound so carefully. At home they look all the same aside from color and title. Here all the books are glorified and treated with utmost care. It's a good thing that all this knowledge is so well cared for.

The Bibliotheca is a wondrous place too. Pillars and walls of pure white marble softened by age. Steel rails lining the grand stair to the wide entrance lined in gold flaking. Inside, was an expanse large enough to hold a good half of Ponyville. More if it was spliced and stacked. Inside, polished white oak laid out in the longest planks. The front desk was much the same, long and curved, only stained a shade darker.

Onward from the desk, the walkway turned into a balcony overlooking two lower floors and overshadowed by five more. A series of intricate glasswork kept the entire place alight until the sun faded away. When the sun did set, the Bibliotheca seemed to hold its light, keeping just enough to read a book without candlelight. The shelves here are a bit strange though. They run up through each floor and appear to actually help hold up the roof of the building itself. Two birds with one stone. Stairways connect each floor, each having an accompanying ramp for those unable to walk. I can't imagine this place being built by the folk here, too mismatched. Nevertheless, I can imagine Twilight would absolutely love this place. She does live in a library, after all.

Daggresa and I left the Bibliotheca after the sun set today, she issn't wearing the maid uniform I've grown accustomed to seeing her in. Instead she's worn something more of a regular attire, it helped her blend in more or less. The amount of respect given to the Clear Wing house is great. Got us a free pass into the library and a restaurant. And with Daggresa's different attire, I noticed that we were treated more like a couple rather than master and servant.

It feels wrong. I'm essentially dating another mare but there's not really love. The concept of sex to me always has the connotation of love with it. I've never seen it without or heard, for that matter. Daggresa, perhaps, is teaching me. If Apricot were to ask, it's going to be hard to answer. I was so lost in thought about the scenario that I don't remember the walk back to the mansion.

Ginger greeted us at the door, tired and exhausted and dressed in something only royalty would wear. I can't seem to recall specifics right now. She pulled Daggresa and shooed me away. I continued on to my room and began writing. Worked on organizing my mother's scrollwork. It's taking awhile as each piece progressively gets more scrambled. I've no idea why she would make this so hard. It's frustrating, honestly.

Aside from that, I received a short letter from Ginger, she had slipped it under the door. Seems we'll be headed out to the arena tomorrow. Clear has devised a plan of sorts for it as well. Using his position he's gotten us seats near Nutmeg. Says she'll explain it more in the morning. She also wrote in that she would be stopping by later, after she's done dealing with one of her sister's shenanigans. I suppose while I wait I can bore myself with one of the books in the desk here.

#138
Spring. Day 150. Noon. Lancet Mansion.

Ginger showed up at my room last night, true to her word. I opened the door to see her without her dresses and dowry. Only her heirloom strung from string around her neck. She looked beat, I can understand the feeling. Ponyville kept me busy when I had my extended stay. She plopped herself on the bed with a sigh. Closing the door I thought to ask the obvious, but refrained knowing what she might answer with.

“Daggresa treated you well, I hear. You treated her well too despite not being in a proper state of mind. I haven't had the chance to tell you that you'll need to forgive her for the spell.” I closed the door and locked it well. “I asked her to give you our language.”

“That would explain why my lips don't feel the same.” I mused. “The fever I ran had didn't help, I'm sure. Tell me, does sex involve your language too?” I asked, slowly approaching the bed.

“No, that's something else. Something different. Do you recall how many times?”

“Three or four. It's all a bit hazy.” She turned herself upright on the bed. “You're aware of that, I'm sure.”

“By Daggresa's count, six.” Turned the headboard and pulled a bottle of wine out from a hidden compartment. A small thing tucked away behind the small painting of the tower above the headboard. “She's says you're great.” She slammed the compartment shut, the hinges squealed from their disuse. She the tip of her hoof and uncorked the bottle. “This is something hidden in every room here. Have you tried wine?”

“I may have tried some at the tavern. I don't remember a taste.”

“Try it.” she turned and pointed the mouth of the bottle at me. “Slowly. It's not made to swig.”

I pulled the bottle from her hoof and took a small sip. It was strong and the smell pungent. Elderberry, I think. I swallowed it, made me cringe too. “Eugh. Not my thing, unfortunately.”

“That it is.” She took a short sip and relieved her breath. She placed the bottle on the nightstand, resetting the cork and pulling me onto the bed. “Let's see how 'great' you truly are.”

“Ginger, you sure this is a good idea?”

She pulled me closer, her mouth by my ear. “I could've taken you at the tavern, Letter. I could have. You remember what the dock golem said? 'I am barbarian'”

“Are you sure you want to live up to that title?” I whispered back, half-jokingly.

“That and more.” She smiled, pulling away to gaze at my eyes in full. “You don't have to mention this to Apricot, if that worries you.”

“It will, even if I don't.” I was on top of her now, my chest against hers. “I don't like to lie.”

“We shall talk more of it later. You have such wonderful eyes, Letter. Like a calm setting sun.”

“Since whe-” was she a poet?

She cut me off with a kiss. We then rolled together in love and ecstacy and the two of us forgot about he world and all its trouble. Went on until we exhausted ourselves as night gleamed through the window. For hours after we stayed awake, quietly enjoying the warmth of each other. Slow caresses of hooves and mindless playfulness. Soon enough, we were both sleeping with the blankets loosely over us.

I slept well enough. Had that dream about the garden and the mysterious pony again. We talked more of curious things of normalcy. Lives lived without dramatic climaxes. Of friends new and old over cups of tea. Bits about each other and a few of our own stories. None that I can currently remember. I wonder the reason behind the dreams but they're so fleeting.

I awoke as soon as the sun began rising. As did Ginger. We attended breakfast together, alone and served by Daggresa. It was a bit awkward, I wanted more of them both. My mind constantly wandered with the thoughts as Ginger explained her sisters were doing. Snapped at me once or twice about not focusing on the conversation.

It seemed like a major coincidence that Clear Wing showed up as soon as we finished eating. Like he were spying through the keyhole and carefully listening through the boards. “Letter, Ginger, pack your things. We begin at noon. Letter, I must speak with you personally in my personal study.” Ginger and I glanced at each other, she nodded. I left the table and followed Clear out the the door into the sun-bleached halls.

I followed him to his door, where he sifted through his keys for the right one. A quick prick of joy when he found the right one. I tailed him through his door, gold plated in its framework and black iron keeping it all in place. I was practically on his coat tails until he stopped to take a seat in a luxurious green chair. He motioned me to sit across from him. I did.

A spell of silence lingered over as I watched him stuff and light his pipe. “I hear tell from the Bibliotheca's keeper that you've scoured through an enormous amount of old books there. Some forty in a day, I believe. Tell me, what were you looking for?”

I gazed at him a moment, searching for malicious intent, he hadn't had any from the start. It was the way he was speaking that triggered my suspicion. “I curious about the Sky Spear. It's purpose and existence seem much a mystery to the historians here. If the Sky Spear is truly using magic to shield the kingdom from a stranger's eyes, I thought some research would help me figure that out.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” I didn't want to tell him about the possibility of it being a Design. “I read about quite a few of the artifacts however. I'm sure you might have one.” It was a stupid guess but it paid off.

“That's a risky assumption, Letter.” He moved over to his desk and opened a drawer out of view. “Ah, here we are.” He mused. “I've done my best to keep it in good shape. Ginger tells me you've a knack for these things, am I wrong?” He brought forth a small and strange little square on top of simple white cloth.

“Not at all. May I?” He nodded. I gently picked up the object. It wasn't stone but some type of lightweight steel. “Have you any idea what it might do?” I asked as my eyes followed the coursing blue line that wrapped it.

“I haven't. Tinkered with it but alas, nothing. There's some writing there, but I can't read it.”

I squinted my eyes, looking hard at each side. Seemed no larger than a matchbox, had a rigid wheel half exposed and a latch on the side opposite. Then, my eyes caught a glimpse of etching in on one of the broader sides. Small and carefully carved. “You have a magnify glass, Clear?” He fetched one from his desk and quickly hopped back. I gleamed over the etching. Designer Script. I remembered what bolt said to me about the written language here and the similarity between the two. “This is Designer Script. Writing more ancient than your own.”

“What does it say?” He asked curiously.

“Give me a second.” I made out the words in my head, but they weren't clear enough. I got up from the chair and moved to Clear's desk and began scribbling on what loose paper he allowed. I muttered as I work, incoherently so. “Forgive me for I have ruined.” I looked up from the paper and stared at the wall, as if it held the answer. “It's a piece of a memory.” I brought the artifact level with my eyes and pressed my hoof against the latch. A sudden fling of the top third revealed more of its workings. Another half exposed wheel with a carefully angled piece of steel. I flicked the wheel and saw that flurry of sparks ignite into a into a single flame. “One better left alone, I feel.”

I released the small lever and the flame vanished. “Brought ruin? Left alone? What happened, I wonder.” Clear Wing's voice was layered with wonder and confounded thoughts.

“I don't know.” I set the artifact back down. “I'll find out. This artifact, same function as an oil lamp.” I turned to face him fiddling with his cane. “Anything else?”

“Nothing else. Although, a little bird tells me you've gotten awfully close with Ginger and one of my maids. In another situation I would scrutinize you for it however, laws are different here. I suggest taking a glance at our political history.” There was a subtle anger in his voice.

“If I can, I will.”

“Good. It will serve you well, I'm sure. As a forewarning: do not fight Nutmeg. Let me take care of it. Now get going, I can't stall this plan any longer. I'll meet you at the doors.”

“Yes sir.”

I hurried back to my room with vague memory. I packed what few things I had unpacked: my journal and writing tools. I threw a set of new robes lied out on my bed. More refined than the last, holding a cleaner look. I still wonder why they're taking me along if I haven't been filled in. Ginger's stubbornness, perhaps? I'll find out, I'm sure.

Chapter 12: The King

#139
Spring. Day 151. Noon. The Arena.

We left at just about evening, when a bell tolled for dinner time. It took us well until midnight by carriage to get to the city's center. I swear the tower's base alone could fit a small castle. We were greeted by guards at the main entrance, obsidian pitched and gold veined. Gaped open without a gate, a magic shield substitute was there instead. Was a foggy morning too, concealed the sky in full. The entrance was creepily inviting, despite the two armor-clad guards before it.

Their armor was something else. Tan and brown, green cloth underneath. Eyes protected by thick and clear goggles. Every bit of the plate armor had a pocket or two strapped to it as well. I wonder what's in those pockets. I was being ushered impatiently by Clear and one of his guards to ask.

It was only after a few questions that they let us in, the shield opened up just enough to let us through. A press of a few buttons in an order, beeping each time. Clear's guard remained outside the entrance, awaiting our return by the carriage. I thought that at least one of Ginger's sister would have joined us, but it seems that they are already well known by their looks and voice.

Inside the Sky Spear, an upward spiral of walkways, beams, and hustling fairies going from wall to wall as if to inspect them. It appeared to shrink the further up it went. An armored minotaur stood before a fountain grand in its size, splitting the red rugged path in two directions. Clear approached the guard and asked him a question, one I couldn't hear. The minotaur glanced around and tapped his spear twice against two spots on the fountain's base. Then the minotaur whispered something back to Clear. Directions, the movement of his fingers gave it away.

After a bit of getting lost among the dozens of floors which always overlooked another one, we found our way to the Arena. We were looking at a wall when we did. Clear pulled out some notes and pressed very specific spots that shined a dim blue when he did. Then came that feeling of being forcefully pulled apart again- teleportation. Not sure I'll ever get used to the feeling. Ginger held up better than I did, though.

Where we landed was a place further up tower obscured from the rest by darkly tinted glass. Another room full of luxuries too. Shinier and far more splendid than what Clear had in his mansion. But we're not here to gaze at bells and whistles. Clear wasted no time getting us past the first set guards, showing them all the falsified paperwork he managed to collect. It fooled them all too.

The walls were gold, ceilings white, and floors red with gold patterns. Potted plants lined the hall we wandered through. Eventually we could hear the muffled cheering touch our ears. We came upon the door leading to it, pointed out by the plaque above it.Arena, it read. How creative. The guard standing before door kept us back, informing us that the next set of matches would be later in the evening. Only then would we be allowed. Manners and rules, he said.

So we've been waiting since in an assigned guest room. Ginger has been itching to get in there however. She has the feeling in her gut, that her brother is in there, playing with their father. Clear only had to calm her down once but I can see her patience wearing thin. Then an oddly tuned bell rang throughout the halls and rooms, signaling the end of the matches and the beginning of a break.

Ginger made for the door and began to open, Clear stopped her before she could poke her head through. He gazed through a peeping hole in the door. We needed to wait until the small hall wasn't crowded. It'd be too hard for the three of us to move in a group if it was.

So we waited.

#140
Spring. Day 152. Evening. The Arena

Clear quickly signaled to us that it was okay to go through the halls. We followed his lead once more to the Arena's main door. The guard let us in without much say and we soon found ourselves waiting yet again. The Arena itself is strange, having everything neatly organized and cleaned but it still held the signature round shape. There's another oddity I noticed glancing around, the lighting. It's only focused on the ring, blacking out any sight of the spectators on the other side. A grand chair where the king would sit, was fenced off by blackened glass.

The chairs began to fill up, quietly. Whispers upon whispers about the upcoming fight. Bets placed on the two who would be entering the ring. Two names spoken the most “The King” and “Bore.” Eavesdropping is useful in these types of situations, a matter of training the ears and not staring for too long. There were some interesting wears among the other nobles: barrages of plumaged hats and sleeves, thick blazers and jackets. Some even went some lengths to hide all their hair. There were a few figures I thought I recognized however. Familiar movement between two, one guiding the other. A third behind them, carrying a small box. Behind us, a familiar scent.

Things immediately quieted down when a guard in little armor came up the steps where the chair was. “The King Nutmeg presiding.” He roared. Instantly, the crowd hushed. Ginger shifted uncomfortably at that, narrowed her eyes.

Nutmeg came out from the shadows, all cloaked in shining silver. A lengthy cape clasped by gold shaped into leaves. Wore a crown of silver adorned with sparkling blue crystals. His mane and tail were a pale yellow and his coat was a blackened red. His eyes as red as his cape. Held a grim smile, “Bring out the fighters.” he said lowly.

A door opened from wall under the chair, revealing a hulking minotaur scarred to the bone from his battles here. He sulked to the other side with only a helmet hiding his face. The other was a pony, “Daddy.” Ginger whispered. I shifted a bit more, trying to keep herself to the chair.

The door in slammed shut and a bell chimed, the fighters began to circle each other. Clear brought something to his eye that glinted in the dim light. The three figures I noted before began to move toward the grand chair. Then he whispered to Ginger, she turned to the seat behind her. The familiar scent came closer and I felt familiar hooves press against my back. I felt my wisp inside me begin to shift and pulled toward their direction. Her and I moved toward the ring, Ginger followed closely behind us and Clear after her.

When we got to the ring's edge, Ginger yelled out, “By order of Hestan Royalty, I demand that this fight be halted.”

We climbed in to the ring, both fighters stopped before an attack was thrown. “And what 'royalty' might this be?”

Ginger rolled down her hood, revealing her face. “Ginger Snow, first heir to the throne, brother Nutmeg.”

Nutmeg chuckled and sneered, “So the whore finally comes out from hiding. Do tell me what rock you've been under, so that I may congratulate it.”

“None in this kingdom and whatever reward you would offer is a grain in sand. Step down, Nutmeg, this is already over.”

“You bring a maid, a simple pegasus, and a noble colt, I have fifteen guards here and a monster of a minotaur. But, that does not say I'm underestimating you. Ni.” He motioned one of the guards and the stands began to empty, quickly and neatly. He directed the other who jumped down before us. “I pit your pegasus against my strongest captain.”

“No.”

“Yes, otherwise.” He nodded his head toward the minotaur. “Poor Daddy will have an accident.” He imitated Ginger.

We turned, seeing the minotaur had the king easily pinned under his hands. “No, I will fight instead. Far better for you to keep me off the throne for good should you win.” She stripped off her noble robe and tossed it to me.

“And I shall deny you that regardless, even if you win. You there,” he pointed to a dimwitted guard. “ring the bell!”

And so it rang. Clear, Dagressa, and I backed away from the fight. Ginger and the guard circled each other. The guard held a spear and stood well on his hind legs. Ginger remained low, eying the movement of his hooves. The guard lunged forward with a quick strike. Ginger dodged and ensnared his spear and with a spin, she swept her hind legs across his unprotected face. He stumbled but managed to regain his spear, sweeping low. The shaft tripped Ginger's landing but she recovered quickly.

A high sweep, a duck. A thrust, a shift to the left. It seems that Ginger had spent the last few days studying the fighting techniques of the guards here. Maybe it was muscle memory from dealing with Hisser and Fisher. I don't know but she seemed to dance to a song to avoid the spear and attacked whenever she could. Nutmeg bit his lip, the fight would only last until one of them got a proper advantage. Another low sweep and then a loud snap, she broke the spear's shaft, a thing of lightweight wood.

He switched to fighting on all fours and closed in on Ginger. She narrowly dodged his first few punches but managed to strip him of his bracers. Another clash left him without his gorget. A final bout left Ginger with a bloodied nose and his loose breastplate clanging hard against the ground. Then they stared each other down.

“It's your win, milady.” The guard spoke in a rasped voice, bowing his head.

“No!” Nutmeg shouted. I saw a spurt of blood leave his lip. “You will keep fighting. You know the rules here. Either death or out cold and I prefer death.”

“King Nutmeg, Ginger has some sense of honor to her. You've done nothing but sap this kingdom dry.”

“I do not hear you, Burdock. Bore, finish the old king. I'm taking my leave.”

“No!” Ginger shouted. She grabbed the upper half of the spear and threw it light as an arrow. Piercing and locking the minotaur's arms together. She then rushed over to her father. The minotaur wailed and back away from the old king

Clear nodded his head toward the shadowed figures that made their way to the grand chair. They knocked out the two guards that guarded the door Nutmeg had come from. Then the two then pinned Nutmeg to the ground. The third shadowed figure emerged from the shadow and hurried to the old king's side. It was Bolt and the two pinning Nutmeg down were none other than Fisher and Hisser. Dagressa breathed a sigh of relief and I felt the wisp travel back inside my body. I felt a bit more lively then.

“Dagressa,” Clear directed, “take care of the minotaur, calm him down if you can.” She simply nodded her head and went to work.

The twins brought down Nutmeg and dragged him to Ginger. Clear and I followed after. He began to laugh. “Surely, you know it couldn't have been this easy.”

“I've had my suspicions.” Clear answered. “And so has the Princess. You're not actually Nutmeg, are you.”

The impostor smiled, “Not one damned bit. It's exactly this type of scenario he always predicted.” He looked to the minotaur. “Hey Bore, show us a trick!”

I felt the air shift and grow cold. I flew to Dagressa and pulled her away from the beast. The end of my tail froze solid as did my hooves and the tips of my wings which spun me into a tumble. Throwing Dagressa from my forelegs and closer to Ginger. I pulled quickly pulled my journal and turned to my earlier pages where I had written the spells from the First Volume. Turning to face the iced up minotaur, I read off the first spell my eyes came across and a barrage of wisps exploded out from my body. They merged and spat out a large bolt of fire. It was effective enough to melt his armor of ice in whole. I read off the next spell and the wisps formed themselves into a jagged line. Lightning darted out and paralyzed the roaring minotaur. I closed the book and the wisps reforged themselves with me.

It took a moment, for my mind to catch up with my actions. “What did I just do?”

“Cast magic is what you did.” He looked me over as I laid on the ground, taking in all I am. “So you're her son.” Ginger's father bowed. “Great Descendant Letter Bee, I- King Ginseng, am grateful to meet you. I'll tell more later.” He winked and raised his head. “And Ginger, my sweet daughter, it's good to have you home. Your mother?”

“Passed.” Ginger's eyes caught the empty ground, as if a flower had caught her eye.

“I shall mourn later. No doubt Nutmeg knows about this by now. Lord Clear Wing, as my advisor I trust you know where the throne room has been moved?”

“Indeed. It's near the peak now, since the tower's been finished.” Clear gave him a small map. “Should do well enough.”

“Of course. Nutmeg always loved high places. Even thinning air wont' stop him.” He nudged Bolt off of him, interrupting some bandage work. “Tend to Bore. Clear, Dagressa, take control of the guards. Can't have them confused. I'm sure you prepared for that already, Clear.”

“I have.”

“Good. Letter, Ginger, and I will head to the throne room. You three,” he pointed, “take out guards or take care of the injured, if need be.”

Chapter 13: Nutmeg

#141
Spring. Day 152. Evening. The Throne Room

So we left the arena as quickly as we came to climb further up the hollow tower of walkways. The clanking of our hooves against the ancient metal echoed and became such a nuisance, that we slowed to a walking pace. There are far too many stairs for a place like this and barely a teleportation device to be found. It was during this running, I managed a good look at Ginseng. A lot like Ginger in the coat, only less colorful. A buttery yellow with burned orange spots along his back. His curved and tangled mane and tail a light brown. Had a large squared beard too. His eyes were near white however, I wonder if he can truly see properly.

Out of breath and in burning aches, we found ourselves before the new throne room. It was grand enough. I f I can call it that. The peaking arc of an entrance is simply reforged parts from the tower itself. Red and black and orange markings denoting their construction codes laid strewn about. There wasn't even a guard to speak of.

The three of us cautiously carried and went forth to see the floor laid out in steel and stone workings geometrically interlaced. Merging into carefully placed arches that met to form a towering vaulted ceiling. Many smaller ones lined the outer walls to form windows and from in there, the wind whistled by. I wondered how far up we truly were.

Upon a gold veined path we walked to the throne covered in red cloth. Steel rods protruding outward like a cactus. In the cushion of the gaudy throne sat a colt, smaller than I. He held the same features as his impostor, his size was really the only difference. “So, you've come back at last, Ginger. You even brought a friend. Father, I'm sure you're doing well after all that time in the Arena. I didn't bother sending guards after you knowing what would become of it. What I do find interesting is your new friend, Letter Bee, wasn't it?”

“Would you shut your trap already, you've done enough to our father's kingdom.”

“I recommend that you not do anything rash, dear sister.” He hopped off the rigid throne and approached me. “You know why I did all this, Ginger, father. Simple, I wanted to rule. It is my right and that right would only come if I got rid of the rest of the family. Speaking of which, I assume our dear mother passed away, in agony, I hope.” A twisted smile wrought his face as he turned his attention to Ginger. She pounced, he countered with a spell that ensnared, rooting her to the ground. “I told you not to do anything rash. The same goes for you two.”

“What is it you want, Nutmeg.” Ginseng answered scornfully.

“No need to be harsh.” He shrugged. “I already told you. The both of you dead and the kingdom to myself. Letter here can help me with this ancient ruin. A grave of a once advanced civilization whose power sought to control all that is ours. I've yet to find out why they ceased to be, all their books only mark a certain frame of time. A time we don't have.” His eyes lit up at his marveling thoughts. “But there's more, always more. They understood things we have yet to learn! Would you believe they bent anything to their will?” He raised his hooves to reveal silver bands with tracing lines of glowing blue under his large sleeves. “Let me give you an example.”

The roots that entangled Ginger lifter her and shifted to one of the windows. They hushed her too, though she didn't scream. “Such a stare on you, dear sister.” He lowered his hooves. “Now, you see, another flick or though and she will be falling to the ground below. I'm sure I don't need to say what would happen next.”

“How do you know about me and what I can do?” I asked.

“How can I not? I have a fair mare who sees all that there is. You've already met her and her ghost. Did you think she was always a wanderer who had lost her home?”

It made sense. The books, shelves upon shelves of them. The fact that I left copies of my notes to her and she asked me to read through them. Betrayal, but for what? A way home, perhaps? “I see.” I lowered my head, feeling defeated before the fight began. I recalled the way Dagressa had manipulated my wisp, so I set my mind on manipulating his. “You are forgetting something though, Nutmeg.”

“And what may that be?”

“I've learned far more than what she's told you.” I spread my wings wide and created enough gust in a single flap to throw him off. I grabbed my the potion that Zecora had given me all those months ago and gulped down what I could. “And this, is just the beginning.” My wisps again before me, I rifled through my notes to my recorded spells and spoke aloud in the ancient tongue. They came to me as if they were second nature.

Fire he dispersed with a wall, lightning he grounded out, water extinguished by the still hot wall he erected before. I managed to trap him with two forces of wind and then brought him to the ground with the steel beneath us. “I can keep going.” I taunted.

“So can I!” Nutmeg broke the rods with a thrust of air and charged. Throwing random arrows of lightning and ice as he did. Ginseng ran over to Ginger to try and set her free. The potion's effect started kicking in. “No!” he shouted, trapping the both of them with more magic. “I haven't had this much fun in a long time.” Nutmeg sneered as he threw tried entangling my legs.

I moved swiftly, “Good for you, not for me!” I fired off another spell of wind. My wisps looked to fade away.

“I can see your spells. I can counter each one. I can do this much longer than you.” He was right. “What is it they say about pegasus wings?” He muttered. “Ah yes, they're fragile!” Then my wings were captured, tangled in rods of bent steel. He held me there like a prize. “Now, I'll be nice about this, Letter. You agree to help me and maybe I'll let you off. With one wing, maybe both.” he shifted his head around, tossing ideas. “However, should you take some convincing, it may be neither and you'll have to enjoy walking for the rest of your life. You do like that, I hope. If you don't pass out, then it'll be limbs.”

“This is you being nice?”

“Yes.”

“Could you give me a moment to think about it.” I glanced to my journal, opened to the last page of the spells and it held what I needed. But it wasn't the prettiest option either.

“Why should I?”

“Because I'm tired of your shit already.” I closed my eyes and spoke the spell. I heard stone and steel beneath Nutmeg shoot up and run him through.

“That's a good one, I'll have to remember it.” I reopened mine to see the blood smattered about and making a fine coating on each impaled spike. His eyes were beginning to fade. He flicked his foreleg and fired one last spell. “Now no one gets the throne.”

I looked over to the windows, hearing them break. My eyes widened. “Shit!” the rods around my wings loosened slowly and I managed to wiggle myself free but at the cost of breaking half a wing. Limping along I grabbed my journal and threw off my saddlebags. Nauseated by the the sight of Nutmeg I stumbled about and fumbled my way to the windows, dragging Gold Arrow, my flight equipment, behind me. I looked down and took a quick breath. I saw the figures of Ginger and Ginseng gradually shrink. Hestan looked a web of silver and gray surrounded by green grass.

I jumped, equipping Gold Arrow as I fell. I twinged placing the guard on my broken wing. After checking everything, I started the engine. Its whirring turbine began to echo the sound of the wind rushing past me. I narrowed my body, taking on the form of an eagle diving for prey. A method I had learned from Flight Gear. My coat began to feel cold and wet and I could see droplets of water break off of my hooves. Then there was a bang, a crack, one that reverberated off of the Sky Spear and almost threw me off. Sound left my ears.

My eyes watered and burned, I could feel my cheeks begin to blister. My equipment began ice up, the cold crept into my bones. I reached Ginger and Ginseng and held each one of them by either of my hooves. Their faces changed from fear to happiness. With the added weight I began to shift my descent to a lower angle. My speed was still too great however. I only managed to spread one wing, my broken one refused to move. I turned the turbine off and continued to level out, trying to keep a safe distance above the buildings. Still too fast, but my hearing came back into play.

“We won't be able to land safely at this speed!” Ginseng yelled.

“I know, give me a moment!” I managed to level out but I was beginning to lisp to the right. “Ginseng, switch to my left.” I compensated for his movement. “I'm going to head for the fields.”

“We won't make it over the wall. Not at this height.” He shouted. “Can't you do something with your magic?”

“Not without my journal. I cant remember the spells by heart. Any soft spots?”

“The turrets by the gates, aim for the windows.”

So I did. It was hard to spot and lining myself up with it required subtle movements. Using what momentum I had I put my back to it and held the two royals close to my stomach. I felt my back collide with the window, heard it shatter, felt their weight flee from me. Another collision struck me, the interior wall. Speed sent me through that thick stone brick like a boulder. I remember skipping across the ground, soft grass both slowing and forming the finest cuts across my skin. Coming to a stop, strength only remained in a single foreleg.

The sky was beautiful then. A few dancing clouds lit by the late evening sun. Blue beget by orange down the horizon. The call of nature's animals filling the air. I would've lied there forever if I could. My mind turned to the thought of Ginger and Ginseng, wondering if they were okay. Any injuries they have are far less than mine, however. I closed my eyes to the smell of my blood and the strange scent of steel.

“Princess!” I heard over my ringing ears. “ Saw 'em land over here, I did.” that's a funny accent. His vague voice became connected to a blackened figure. “Found him! It looks like him but I can't say it is him.”

“What does thou mean?” A royal voice speaking words familiar. He motioned her over. “Oh my.” My hearing went out and my vision faded away. Death called to me like those who cried for their lost ones. I felt empty and free-floating as if I were leaving myself.

Chapter 14: Aeron

#142
Spring. Day ? Time of Day? Location?

And from the black of my eyelids I drifted away and emerged in a world blanketed in white. No walls or houses as far as the eye could see. From above, descended an alicorn clad in white robes and a scythe upon their back. “Great Descendant,” the veiled face called out, as both stallion and mare. “Letter Bee. You're early.”

“Early?” I answered.

“Surely you haven't forgotten my name?”

“Unfortunately, I have.”

“Aeron. You remember our talks over tea?”

“Vaguely. Should I call you 'he' or 'she'?”

“What you wish. I know you write, 'he' will be fine.” he plopped his hooves to the ground and the landscape changed back to the vast green land I was familiar with. Table and stools formed from the air, steam rising from the kettle's spout. A dancing line of garden plants encircled us, bright and vivd in colors I thought not possible by plant life. “Have a seat.”

I did. He waited until I was comfortable before sitting down himself. “So, what is this exactly?”

“I've told- Ah right. Right. I forget about this. Being stuck in this state is an annoying thing.” He split the spout and poured both cups at once. No words and no magic from his horn. “The mind has two parts: the sleeping mind and the awake mind.” he lifted his veil past his muzzle and sipped his tea gently. “The sleeping mind: regarded as the place where knowledge goes whether we know it or not. Feeling, seeing, and knowing is a strong part of it and not in the way you might assume. The awake mind, while not the opposite, is a bit more obvious. Speech and movement; more mundane things.

“There is of course more but that I will discuss at a later time, should we have it. Now this place, this plane of living is similar. Except, apply the concept to the world, the planet on which we live. Now to get from one place to another, one must build a road. Better yet, a bridge. The bridge can be plain or as beautiful as it can be. It can act as a key to a lock. A wall to break down even. It is simply that small gap that can bar us forever from it or lead us into grasping the true nature of things.

“Now you on the other hoof, have been forced over that barrier a few too many times and have suffered for it. Even more so now, reading off your spells like you did. Noisy things they are, quite the ruckus when I'm trying to read.” I smiled at that, so did he. “The difference between you and Nutmeg was astounding. A toy against a tank, if you will. You've your mother to thank for that.”

He lifted the wares from the table and transformed the tables surface into a chess board, pieces and all. Set the wares down on a stump he formed from the ground, like fresh riverside clay. “You'll be here awhile longer than usual and I'll be sure this all recollects a bit more easier for you upon your leave. It will help, I'm sure.” Swigged more of his tea. “You know this game, surely?”

“I do. White moves first, correct?”

“Black.” he nudged a pawn.

“Right.”

A long time passed with some frustration, losing all my games. Never been one for strategy. I was however, enjoying the play and his company. “So what else of the world do you know, Aeron?”

“The world? I've forgotten it, honestly. All I have now are stories of those who I've met. And those stories are a great many. Simply my toll, I suppose.” He moved his knight.

“Toll?” I moved my rook, taking a pawn.

“By another name I am Death. Another calls me Aeron. A third, Savior. Quite funny, that last one.” Pawn taking pawn.

“You know of the Designer, by chance?” Moved the queen one square.

“Oh, good move. But yes, I do. Could I take you there? No. He has far more control over this world than I. However, that is by no means to fear him. He's very gentle, but also weary.”

I recalled his voice, then Rebirth. I had forgotten about it. “Rebirth. It's something my mother's poem mentioned. Do you know of it?”

“Can't say I do. Honey wasn't to keen on talking once the Designer stripped her magics. Poem was made to fool, to hide. Same with Bury.” Captured my rook with his queen. “Say, how many stanzas were there?”

I thought back and tacked down my queen to his, “Eight and check.”

“Not quite.” His rook to block. “The poem as I recall, only had seven. Checkmate.”

I looked over the pieces. He boxed me in with both his rooks. Not a single one of my pieces could take them. “Would explain why he didn't know. That makes the score ten to zero, correct?”

“Twelve.” He waved his hoof, the board vanished and the wares took its place. “That's as much as we can play. Come back again, I'll tell you a story.” The entire field went up into dust, the white shattered away, and the wares fell into the blackness. He placed his front hooves on my shoulders, “Breathe, Letter. Breathe.”

It wasn't so much that I was obeying, but more that I wasn't and now I could. His image turned to a pillar of dust caught by wind. That wind rushed me by and I breathed as if I had fallen and the ground had taken my breath from me. My eyes snapped open and I lurched forward, panicked and confused. I found myself restrained by chains and shackles. I made to speak but nothing came. Only rasping breaths by threads of my heartbeat.

When my eyes caught the room proper, I glanced around. Dimly lit room, canopied bed, nightstand, and a series of chairs. The sun beamed through a crack in the curtains, concealing the door opposite of this stiff bed. There's certain familiarity to this, lying here, waiting. I wonder for Ginger's health as well as her father's. My wings feel a bit stiff though, my wits aren't well enough yet. A letter in this writing alone is producing strains to both eye and hoof.

The dream, vision, state of mind- whatever it was, had written itself to my pages. I'm tempted to believe that conversation. Those games of chess and Aeron's words about the world. Perhaps I should. If truly the world is as complex as he says, then there's more to this puzzle of my mother's. I should believe it, I've no reason not to.

Chapter 15: Sunlight

#143
Spring. Day ? Evening? Location?

I'm still not sure how long it's been since I've been holed up in here. I'm hungry and haven't been seen for what feels like days. That beam of light hasn't moved or dimmed or faded away. It was really the only thing keeping the room alight too. I tried to speak, call out for some one but there's never a response. Not even a peep. A mild sting crawling up and down my spin has kept me uncomfortably awake. Panic is taking its time to settle in.

I'm starting to remember flashes of time I woke and was put under again. Like poison had rotted me through, drove me mad. They restrained me time and time again, tore the pages that held the spells out from my journal. They pulled a small rod that had pierced my back. The bloody thing blackened and bent. I remember Luna and her power overwhelming mine. Her face in shock by the sight of me. Her taking of the Parchment Stone. Her pulling me through the field in a case of magic.

I thought more and more, the reasons why I became so enraged. Remembered Luna's history and how she had become Nightmare Moon. I suppose the same could be said about me. It wasn't so much that had given into dark powers but that I was twisting the way the world was set to work. And I suffered the consequences. My former science teacher always said that magic was reserved for each species and race, but always in a different way. I remember the discussions that went on for grand lengths and how pegasi and unicorns differed in their use of magic. Earth ponies had their own special way, some notably so. Applejack and Pinkie Pie, for example, know how stone and earth work their ways though they differ.

In the midst of my thoughts, I took a bit of time to rummage through my bag and found the locket Apricot had given me all those months ago. I released the latch and my heart began to long for her. I worried for what she might think when I return. I won't be the same anymore. I've become irreversibly damaged, I feel. I will I say when we meet again? Then the words came, “I'm sorry.” I choked. At last I could speak. “I'm so sorry.” I sobbed, holding the locket to my chest. “I'm so sorry.” I trembled. I began feeling cold then too. Still am, though I'm covered in thick quilts.

The cold crept into my legs and I began to drift. The shackles frosted over, turned brittled and shattered. Freeing the chains from their burden. “There's a thing.” I whispered. I picked up a shard and watched it turn to hot iron and melt away onto a gust of wind. The different elements fought amongst me in small little wars like I was their world. In a sense, I could see that. Though, these little wisps were playful and it cheered me up, however little.

I wonder if unicorns had their own magics bicker over who's better. Would be quite the show. As much as the thought entertained me, I came to realize that this may have happened with my mother, before she was parted.

I can only wonder how that would've occurred. Perhaps one of the Designer's books speak of it. Whether or not the Bibliotheca holds it is another matter.

#143
Spring. Day ? Time of day? Location?

After tiring my hoof in writing a vast length, I napped. Dreamed nothing and awoke to nothing. Silence and the sun beam. Is the moon hiding away? Shying itself from my presence? “You just don't want to leave, do you?” I huffed. “All I've done is lie here and write and you've done nothing but peek through the window. Surely you can do a bit more than show dust on the floor.” It stayed there. “Least you could do is have some conversation, you know.” The dust swirled up and formed an all too familiar figure. “I didn't think you'd come through the window, Mother.” I had originally intended my words as jokes.

“You haven't a thought or wonder why no one has seen you?” I made to ask, but she answered, “I froze time to see you, while I still can. The smallest things become hard to move.” Though she was made of dust now, she held all her beauty I remembered her for. But it seems this task has caused her some strain. Her forehead wrinkled frowns now. “So you've met Aeron?”

“I have. He's told me a bit, about you. About the world. Played a few games of chess with him. Not really a morbid fellow.”

She sighed with a smile, as if memory had returned to her, “He never was a morbid one. He helped when he could. Never turned someone down.” She stifled a tear but it rolled. Even with the golden dust, I could see it. “Tell him that I'm sorry. He'll know.”

“I'll be sure to but I have to find a way to him first.” A short laugh between us. Always nice to hear that soft laugh of hers. The thought of Nutmeg's corpse run through by spikes flashed over me. “Mother, can you forgive me?” I shook at the words. “I have murdered.”

“I watched the fight, dear. Your hoof was forced. I forgive you.” She said them easily enough, more habit than plague. “There are times when the wheel becomes locked and we can't move it, even if we time traveled.”

“Then you should know what will happen to us? When the Rebirth occurs, I mean.”

“I can't say. There are... too many factors.”

“Then I'll just have to narrow those down for you.”

She laughed lowly. “Perhaps.” And with that she returned to the dust. A quiet scream following her out the window. Her pain resonating in my chest. The dust moved and everything lurched a moment, then settled. The wisps vanished to the sound of the door creaking open. Light poured in from there, past silhouettes of familiarity.

With a smile I welcomed them, my new friends. Ginger and Dagressa were careful with their hugs, avoiding my casted wings. Bolt moved to an illuminated board and began placing x-rays on it. In the excitement, Ginseng thanked me and I saw Hisser and Fisher keep by the door, nod of their heads. “Alright.” Bolt butted in. “Three things, Letter. You'll heal but I'm afraid you won't be able to fly anymore.” I frowned. “Glide, maybe. The bones have broken too much to allow for full flexibility after they've healed. Might take years to actually fly again. Even then, your chances are incredibly low.”

“And the other two?”

“Well, you'll be heading home just as quickly as you got here. A Princess Luna and her companion scooped you up. Carried you here. Quite the bloody mess and incredibly lucky by my standards. Your equipment saved you in the end.”

“Where is it now?”

“Broken beyond repair. Hundreds of tiny shards, now. The third option? Entirely optional. It would involve amputation of your wings. Less pain in the long run but it eliminates flight completely. I'll await your decision.”

“I've already made it, Bolt, I'll keep my wings. You've already done enough, I feel.”

Slightly surprised, he raised a brow, “I suppose I have.” He recollected the scans. “You should rest. I'll be back to check on you. And Ginger, you know where to reach me.” She nodded, then turned her attention back to me.

“Ginger, can I speak to you, alone?” She looked to her father, who shooed everyone else out and followed them. “I have to go back, you know. I found I still long for Apricot.” My eyes found the floor. “I'm sorry.”

“I understand, Letter. I may be a barbarian, but I'm not entirely selfish. As a princess, though she may not have the best say, still has to respect her subjects.” She caressed my cheek. “You'll go back to those you love dear, spend your life there.” She smiled dimly, “Of course, you should take care of the matter with you mother first.”

“Right. How long has it been, anyways?” I thought to tell her of mother's visit, but I drowned the words before they came through.

“A few days. I'll have to look at the calendar again.” I saw it then, the purple lines forming under her eyes. Reddened by tears and rubbing. “I'll miss you, you know. I think I may even fallen in love with you.” she humored. “If anything, you're really the first one to tame my wild heart.”

“Just don't get lost. ” I added.

“Being lost isn't always a bad thing.” Couldn't argue there. “Now on to the matter of Nutmeg. You did kill him, which brings about a barrage of problems by law. However, Father and I are both willing to pardon the crime. Three things: discreet royal guard appointment, an honorary family emblem allowing free roam among the castles, and a room of your own in the royal castle. You'll be considered a hero too, by our word. Statues may be built in your honor, you know.”

“Let them be built. I only ask that it's not plastered everywhere. Not sure I could handle that.”

“Maybe one or two, then. I'll have an artist paint a portrait once you're out of this bed. That will be of course, before you leave. There's a ceremony for the emblem as well. We'll discuss it later. I should be letting you rest instead of filling your mind with more worries.” She sighed, “I'm afraid I must be going however, royal duties.”

“Stay. Please.” I blurted out. “I could use the company.” My mind shifted to Idol, recalling how I had stayed with him when he asked. Ginger didn't speak, only grabbed a chair hidden from view and kept my hoof between hers.

We remained silent for most of the time. She fell asleep and I wondered what the ceremony could possibly involve. I wondered about how to visit Aeron again. Most importantly, I wondered if I when the Designer would contact me again. I have a feeling the the Sky Spear may be where he will. It's a matter of where.

Chapter 16: Planar

#144
Spring. Day ? Time of day? Location?

Still unsure how long I've been here. Ginger has been keeping me company as much as she can. Dagressa as well but far less. I finally got to meet Princess Luna in all her splendor as well. Turns out I had speaking with her as well as Aeron in my dreams. Kind of strange honestly. She's found the source of the shield that I theorized about, deep down in the lower levels of the tower. A large gaudy thing of lights and wires, buttons and blank screens. She noted the buttons and machines had writings similar to what I've written about.

I met her friend too. White with brown spots, pinto pattern, having a Trottingham accent and wearing an eye patch. Dressed like a sailor, spoke like one too. He was by no means, impolite. Quite fond of Luna too, he is. He's told me of the time they first met, Nightmare Night. A festivity involving dressing like things either scary or silly and going to doors in the neighborhood. Knocking on doors and saying some sort of words and getting candy in doing so. Not something that we've had in Clackerton. Told him I would have to stop by this upcoming fall. He's elated about that, I just hope I'll be able to. Pipsqueak is his name.

On another note, Bolt said I should be up and about within a few hours. Told me to take it slow, as I managed a few good scrapes on my legs. It seems the effects of Zecora's speed potion are still lingering about, thus speeding up the natural healing process. I also learned a bit more about Bolt as well. Seems that he was Ginseng's personal aid but kept an eye on Ginger when Nutmeg took the throne. At the end of our last conversation he gave me the pages of my journal back. More cleanly torn than I thought they would be. I've hid them away in a smaller pocket of my saddlebag, folded and tucked away. I sincerely hope I would never need to use those spells again.

#145
Spring. Day 160. Evening. Sky Spear's lower levels.

With some shoulder help, I was led down into the lower levels of the Sky Spear. A rickety elevator of cross-weaved and beamed steel held the four of us well. Luna as a guide, Pipsqueak her companion, Ginger holding half my weight. The elevator itself was fit for things far more heavier than us, however. The few pulleys and gears creaked and groaned as they sprung to life at the press of a button. Had black and yellow stripes marking where the gate closed shut. Caution, it read, denoted with a red triangle with an embedded exclamation mark.

It was a quiet ride down aside from the occasional creak. Every so often it jerked, a nervous twitch in the cable that refused to let us go further down. Nerve-raking though it was, we made it down here. Place is cold as any winter and it was alive with quiet whirs of fans spinning away. Sheltered away from our touch by cold aluminum casings. The floor's patterned in white squares, still feels like cement, smoothly leveled. The room itself was large and rather unassuming but the faint glimmer of beams and braided cords can be seen like veins under the skin. All of them routing to a central shaft in the ceiling all cloaked in darkness. It's hard to see past the rafters and beams of white light illuminating everything below, so nothing made a shadow.

The large boxes were aligned in grids and each unit had boards with little buttons, meant for textile placement of I think, fingers. Dusty things they are, amazing that they're not buried in the stuff. I suppose there's someone that keeps an eye on the place. I caught glimpses of letters on their surfaces, strikingly different than the script I'm used to seeing. However, it's similar to Equestrian.

Luna brought us to a console in the center of it all. She stepped aside and motioned me forward without a pip. Another console, much like the one Ginger and I had found at Bury. I read the single line engraved just below all the keys, bold font reading Planar. I repeated the the word and a quick thrust of light appeared from the console. A yawn, followed by a voice, “Ah, so you've arrived at Planar. I, The Designer, welcome the four of you.” The light pulsated as he spoke, brighter with his aching voice. “Looks like you've gotten into quite the scuffle, Letter.”

“If fighting brick and mortar counts, then yes, I have.”

The ancient voice laughed, “I've missed that sweet sound of humor.” A familiar groan of a chair came through. “Anyways, I've looked into this 'Rebirth', you mentioned. None of my notes mention it. That isn't to say I still can't help you.” Shuffling of paper. “I'll need to research more. Your mother hasn't done anything since she became whole again. I think she may be biding her time.”

“What is this, 'whole', thou speaks of?” Luna asked.

“Well, remember how you were Nightmare Moon for awhile?” she nodded. The Designer continued, “This is the opposite of that. There's a reason why I had to force it, I've told Letter already. My memory is hazy on the why. Surely you can understand that, Princess Luna.”

“I believe I do. If thou were to recall, would thou be willing to produce this memory?”

“You've always spoke in a funny manner, Luna. I don't blame you for it though. But yes, I would be able to. Letter would likely be the first to hear it, however.” The Designer yawned once more, Pip followed suit. “Now, this entire structure has worked far longer than I had intended it to. There's a reason behind the name, can you guess it?”

“Planar usually refers to planes and by extension, space.” I answered,

“Good. This tower is all one structure down to the cables that each outlying city is built upon and its function is to cloak or distort the naked eye. It has more than enough power to eclipsed the entire planet if I had done so. I began to tear the tower down to remove my traces. However, I was too slow at that. My body was frail, still is, and I've stayed here since. I can power the tower down and you three will have a quicker trip back to Equestria.”

“You couldn't power it down before?” I asked. “Seems a bit odd.”

“I locked myself out, partially. Only once the console is activated can I access them. I've made the things mostly localized for purposes you wouldn't understand. A grueling task, to be honest.” We heard him shift around in his chair and speak yet again, “The distortion field is down now. The tower will continue to power the cities above in what buildings actually use it. And Letter, don't be angry about Dream Seer. Hear her out.”

“I understand.”

“One last thing, then I must pay mind to my work. There's a safe under the console. Draw the code A-0-0-4-7 using the Designer script. A small thing that should lock away magic, however innate it might be.”

“Which means the spells I translated won't work, correct?”

“That is spot on.” With those last few words the screen of light fizzled and dropped back into console. The room was notably quieter from both that and whatever machinery he composed to sleep.

I looked under the console and found the safe neatly blended in with the backside of the silver column. Didn't budge, wasn't made to be moved. In small fine print, the size of ants, glowed blue on the face. Subtly distinct from the rest of it is the matte surface. I turned to my notes and gently traced the first digit. The surface appeared to ripple but it was still harder than stone. The interacting lights made that trickery. I traced the other digits in, only lifting my hoof to start the next.

The face slid to the right and revealed a dull silver bracelet, smaller than what a pony would wear. More like a ring that would be placed on the horn. I guessed the Designer was only taking unicorns into account. I reached for it and with a touch it sprung to life. Hopping from the safe and onto my face, where it then quickly made way to my ear. A sudden sharp pain surged through me followed by stinging. The safe snapped back closed and the glow went away.

Dazed, I called Ginger over as I fumbled to close my journal. “Looks like you're stuck with a nice looking piece of jewelry.” She jabbed, carrying me like before.

“Funny. Maybe I'll get the other side done too.”

“I can arrange that, you know.”

Chapter 17: Ceremonial

#145
Spring. Day 161. Evening. Ginseng's Royal Room of Regard.

Almost a full day now and I'm already feeling good as new, aside from my wings and larger cuts. My new piece of jewelry is a small cylinder through the back edge of my ear. I can feel it draining the magic a bit. Saw one of the wisps get sucked into it this morning whilst looking over my wings in the grand mirror they dragged in here. Taller and wider than me and grandiose framework flourished with gilded gold on copper.

This room is the same they had me sleeping in before, where I woke up yesterday. I had expected a different one but no. I am still grateful though and it seems that board Bolt had used was something he had brought with him. I kind of wanted to play with the thing. It also appears that this room is reserved for the highest regarded of guest too. Not even the mayors of the other cities are allowed in here. Awful lot you can hear at the dining table if you're willing to eavesdrop. Still feeling a bit exhausted after all of those quick introductions of each mayor and noble that Ginseng kept in his court.

If this were another life, I might find myself comfortable here. However, I find that it would not be the same circumstances that led me here. For one, I probably would never had met Ginger and everyone else. I would probably sit here and rot away, achieving nothing despite whatever status of nobility I might have. Still I'd choose my old life over this one.

Aside from life ramblings, I find myself thinking about what the ceremony could possible be about. My gut tells me it's something major. Ginger hasn't quite gone over the details with me about it yet, so my curiosity about it seems boundless. It's gone from being accepted into the family to just receiving a medal for bravery. Either way, I'm not sure how things will turn out.

The ceremony is tomorrow and they've prepared special clothes for the occasion. Red and gold trimmed robes thin and light. Purple dotting the red and on the back of it all, black stitching portraying the head of an eagle. Yet another status symbol that put me at the same level as Ginger. Mere coincidence that I have a pet eagle to match.

I suppose a good nights sleep is in order upon writing this. I can feel the pain welling up, succeeding the painkillers the good doctor gave me. It is making me rather weary. I would like for it to go away. Which reminds me, mother used to kiss our bruises saying, “Pain go on your way, come back some other day.” Perhaps she kissed too much away.

#146
Spring. Day 162. Evening. Room of Regard.

Well, the ceremony went well enough and I was in more of a surprise than I thought. Took place in the old throne room, a large long hall without much in aside from dusty banners and lines of pillars edging the long red rug. The rug itself ran up a short flight of steps to a small podium. Behind that, a couple of chairs for Ginseng and Ginger. Two more empty for the Queen and the son. Ginger looked ravishing in her dress, white and laced ends and her face veiled. Ginseng held the royal look so well that mountains moved at his command and trees would part with a stare. I bowed at the bottom of the stairs.

“Cree. Come forward.” A small nimble pony of old square as brick wearing a feathered hat and puffed sleeves came from the side. Took his place behind the podium and readied himself. “Letter, you may rise.” I did. Ginseng tapped his chair arm, an echo flowed through the hall.

“By royal decree of King Ginseng Snow the Eighteenth and Princess Ginger Snow grant you, Sir Letter Bee, Royal Courier of Equestria and now Hestan, would first like to thank you for saving both their lives and eradicating the oppressing Prince Nutmeg. Secondly, by royal decree grant you full citizenship of Hestan and it's outerlying cities as a royal. As such, you, Letter Bee, will be granted the status of Duke and given your own land and home on which you will live should you return. You will receive the family's royal emblem as proof of this. It will be maintained regardless of your presence. Upon receiving the emblem, it must not be sold for profit, doing so will forfeit all status and land given to you and banishment for a set amount of years.

“Secondly, as demonstrated by your profound understanding of the Designer's Script, we ask that you offer your knowledge on the subject. Should you choose to decline, we will respect your wishes and not press the matter. Should you accept, all we require are what notes you provide to translate the scripture. If you mislead us, then we will enforce the aforementioned punishment.

“I started hearing the scratching of a quill then, “Lastly, as part of your new dukedom status, you will be provided with money from the royal coffers. With which, you can purchase whatever you may, so long as can be bought in the local currency. Said currency can be exchanged at the proper locations for its equivalent and is only to be withdrawn from the Royal Holdings and certified banks. Duplication of currency will also be met with the aforementioned punishment.” Cree closed the scroll and placed it upon the podium. For a stallion his age, he certainly spoke volumes. “Do you hereby accept these terms?”

“I accept the terms.”

He smiled. “It will be nice to have a kinder gentlecolt in the house.” He collected his papers and turned turned to Ginseng. “My lord, you may have stage.”

Ginseng cleared his throat and rose from his chair, “Thank you, Cree. Take your leave and rest, I'll need your assistance later.” They traded and Ginseng pulled a small book a pocket of his cloak. “Quill Stroke! Out from the pillar and take your leave, I want no record of this for now. You can leave your supplies.” A thump followed by the busy collection of papers hurried out the door behind me. I looked back to catch a glimpse, but saw nothing of the pony, only the closed doors. I swore I heard them trip at least once too.

“Ginger, take your place.” To my surprise it was beside me. “By the power invested in me, King Ginseng Snow the Eighteenth and the Hestan Kingdom, I hereby declare Letter Bee as Duke of Hestan. Similarly, I decree the union between the two before me: Letter Bee, who saved us while risking his own life. And Ginger Snow, who returned in a time of need. Ginger.” Ginseng waved his hoof.

Ginger proceeded to dress my new robe in petals. Plucked from flowers like the ones at my uncle's. They were placed precisely over my shoulders and specific spots on the spine. A single sky blue petal placed on my forehead. She slipped the stem of the flower into a pocket of the robe. I was baffled. Before pulling away, Ginger whispered, “There are two bangles in the opposite pocket, put those on my front hooves when he says your name.” Before I could speak, she shushed me with a silencing gesture.

“Letter.” I proceeded slowly. Reaching for the bangles, feeling their weight shift and the small bells ring. I pulled out the gold ringed things, etched with the family crest and a silver flourish of something like rosemary. The bells hung by copper-toned hoops melded into the sides. I slid the bangles on, one at a time.

“And now the veil.” This part felt natural. I lifted the thin white lace away from her face. Having it rest on top of her head and then I kissed her yet once more. She smelled of snow and ginger. “With that the ceremony is complete.” He stepped down and passed us by and through the doors, calling for Quick Stroke once more.

“Ginger, what just happened?” I asked perplexed.

“We've become an item.” She answered calmly.

“Like marriage?”

“Something like that.”

“I thought this was just a ceremony!” I said exasperated.

“Marriages are ceremonies, you oaf!” She rebuked. “Now, to the Room of Regard.”

I did so, leading her through a winding hall of vaulted pillars and paintings peering past us. Suddenly I began to feel like we were two lovers, running from home for reasons unknown. It was exciting and inviting and yet I know that I'll be leaving here for Clackerton, to be with Apricot again. My mind unwound the thoughts of home and the latest memory brought me to locking the doors and stripping her out of the dress. Carefully and cautiously. I cast aside the robe and we brought ourselves to the bed. What ensued was pleasure and joy, coursing through an intimate hour. Followed by a warm and quiet sleep.

Chapter 18: Answers

#147
Spring. Day 163. Late Evening. Bee Manor.

Another day of menial activities. Most of it involving moving into my new mansion that King Ginseng so willingly supplied. An army of movers and designers and highly opinionated knuckle heads that worked with Ginger and I to sort out the mess of it. A surprise that it all hadn't been setup before our arrival. I figured that due to such a short notice for all this, I doubt they had the time to. Most of it was less luxurious than I thought it would be. Contemporary and timeless designs rocked through all the furniture, all lightly colored. Suited the rosewood walls and dark floors well enough.

Many rooms drifted through the place. A single dining hall, a massive kitchen, two master bedrooms, eight guest bedrooms, four full baths- two of them gender specific. The study brought the most interest to me, having been specifically requested by Ginger. She had it filled to the brim with every book that might interest me so that I may look through them whenever I'm here. Another spot of interest, is the hidden room behind one of the bookcases. She had secretly taken a look at my notes of the Designer Script placed a set of numbers on the bindings of empty books. She apologized for doing so, but she wanted to do more than give me her heart and a house.

In that room was something more, something she worked out with Princess Luna. A portal, looking more like an ornate mirror than anything else. Stairs before the silver faced shine, reflecting my image in full. I gazed in that for a long while, under the glow of odd blue torches on the wall behind it. I gazed at my wings, how bent the feathers had become. The scratches and bandages around random parts of my body. Even a bit of my ear had been nipped away and the vague edge of a scab. I felt the edge of a cut along my cheek. It stung a bit, pulled my hoof away and frowned.

I sighed, feeling the weight of this new world weigh me down. As if it had torn me from a pedestal and replaced my image with a replica. I killed another living being, who's personality was unlike mine, but a life taken all the same. Though it had been pardoned, I'm afraid I'll never be able to shake that image of blood soaked spikes from my mind. Tearing through the flesh so neatly and for a moment a wicked smile from Nutmeg's lips before his head drooped down. He seemed satisfied in his last moments of life.

Then I laughed, lowly and quietly. The thought of how I'm going to explain this to my family and nearly everyone else who asks. An accident on the job I suppose I could say. But there's so much more to the story than that. So much more that I could say, so much I'm not sure I should say anything at all. Still, I have to make some sort of report to my sister as well as Celestia, so she knows what happened here.

“Barely even moved in and you're wanting to head home?” The Buckingham spotted pony called out from behind. “You should at least say goodbye to her, you know.”

“Not yet, Pipsqueak. I don't even know how to use this thing. I've got a lot on my mind.”

“Right-o. A lad like you shouldn't be aging so quickly.”

I had a good laugh at that. “I suppose you're right. I shouldn't be. I'm afraid this much isn't going to stop me though. I've a job to finish and my hometown to go back to. My mother to take care of.”

“Isn't she the one who got you here?”

“She is. I've yet to figure out the purpose of it and I have questions that need answering. And I'm going to get those answers from her or the Designer. Got a few for Ginger too.”

“Say, buck-o, how about I take you out for a drink? Chat over that may be a little better for ya. Sides, you got a few things to celebrate for, after all.”

“I suppose that's true. I did just help a coup for the better, I hope.”

“I'm positive it is. The gal is happier for it, you've just might not been noticing. Luna's been relieved too. Come, we'll chat more after a drink.”

So we went, though it felt strange. We found a small bar, tucked away on the back corner of a clothier shop. The place was aged, anything cracked or broken was strapped back together. The few tables there are mismatched and seemed like they were slapped together. Same with the chairs and stools. Though, each piece was put together well enough you wouldn't be afraid of sitting on them.

Pipsqueak and I took stools at the slate stone bar. A well polished surface, chipped and scratched. Few stains marred the surface. The bartender started us off with some small glasses of water. Pip ordered an apple flavored ale for us both. Payed for it too. Found it good not to ask how he came across the money, however.

“So, Letter.” He drank. “Marriage, a home, potentially a family. As much money you could have among other things. What now?”

“Say my goodbyes, go home and rest. Try to find out where the next Design is. I finished translating the numbers in her book. Unfortunately, I'm not sure what they mean. The way they're written out reminds me of the coordinate lessons I took in my geography classes back in school.” I sipped. A bitter taste for sure, but still sweet. “I can't imagine you might know something about that.”

“Are ya kidding me right now? I'm a sailor, ya bloke. I've sailed the seas and oceans for years! If its one thing you got to be good at, it's maps. Been drawing up my own too. Better to have everyone looking at the same map, ya know.” He drank happily. If anything, we may be able to work something out for ya. Moon revolves around the planet, you know.”

“I know that, Pip. I give you a look at them when we get back to the mansion.”

“Aye. Anyhow, I heard you have another love back in, what was it, Clackton?” He gestured.

“Clackerton.” I corrected politely. “I'm not sure how to explain everything to her. She knows when I'm keeping secrets and I don't particularly like lying.”

“Then tell her. Have her know that it was something out of yer control. You were not aware of such things. Many lads like you have had more than one love in their lives. Bit o' heartbreak on the downside though, ya know?”

“I get it. I just don't know what Apricot will think.”'

“Ya won't know until you tell her!” He laughed and chugged down the rest of his ale. Then tapped the mug against the bar top. The tender begrudgingly refilled his mug. “Say, Apricot is a familiar name, what's her last, if you don't mind my asking.”

“Blossom.” I tilted the mug around on its base, rummaging other thought unremembered.

“Ah! Her mother sold me something rather fine, you know.” He pulled a small ring out from the pocket of his brown vest. A ring box, small, blue, and soft. He hinged it open. “Thinkin' bout marrying Luna. Been a thought of mine for a long time.”

“Isn't she quite a bit older than you?” Even I knew the princesses aside from Cadence and Twilight have lived more than three-thousand years.

“Thousands of years don't matter much you know, not to her.” A huge grin creased across his face. “I'm anxious.”

“Well, the most I can say is go for it. If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out.”

“Aye. At least I'll know.”

A long drawn out silence filled the empty bar. We finished our ale and made our way back outside. The sky was clear and the moon was high and halved. Made our way back through a narrow street and out into the open, where the mansion could be seen plainly in its splendor. Fenced off from the road with a narrow drive sneaking under the front gate and to the outstretched awning. Enough to cover two carriages, side by side. This is a home now, one that I own. Yet I have two others, Clackerton and that house by Neighagra Falls Idol gave me. A place I've yet to visit.

Pip and I parted in the foyer. Off vague memory I made my way to my bedroom, my mind littered with thoughts of home. I met Ginger inside, tending to her hair with a brush. “Ginger, I have something to ask.” I closed the door. “ I have something to ask about the ceremony. Won't your people know about it?”

“No,” she answered without looking. “Since Father sent Quill Stroke out of the hall when that occurred, it's unofficial. We need time to spread rumor that you are not some low life who wandered into everything. Some will question my return as well.” She rose from the chair and approached. Her straightened mane stunned me. “The ceremony is to ensure our union ahead of time, so that I'm not chased after. Father already knows you well enough to see who you are.” She caressed my sore cheek. “He wants to secure you for that and more.” she pulled away and moved toward the bed, “He has forbade me to know that until the time is right.”

“Something else to worry about, great.” I groaned.

“I'm sure it's not war mongering.” She humored. “You'll be leaving tomorrow, yes?”

“Probably. I'm still conflicted about it.”

“You're worried about me being alone? I've lived alone far longer than you might believe, Letter. I can handle myself. I will leave no quarter for those who dare death on us.”

“I don't believe you're a barbarian anymore, Ginger. A stranger might call you a fierce mare.”

“Oh, well.” She fumbled. “I suppose that's true. Join me in bed when you're ready, Letter.”

She tossed the blankets up and quickly rolled under them. Then shifted around to get comfortable. “I will.” I replied. I took to my bags and looked through my journal, creating this new entry and bookmarking the few pages that I had filled with numbers and what few letters were there. I hope that Pip will be able to figure these out.

A sudden exhale of visible breath caught me off guard as I closed my journal. I looked up to see the room flash away into white. Strange, I don't remember falling asleep. “Aeron!” A puff of black smoke from my left where the door was. “What's going on?”

“Something rather uncertain. Your mother has been sapping an area dry of its magic and life. What she's planning, we don't know. The Designer is still working out multitudes of scenarios and such. He's a very... cautious fellow.”

“Seems that way. Wanting to get rid of everything he ever created. Strange he wouldn't come after us.” The quick thought crossed my mind.

“There's a reason for that but I am forbidden to tell. But what I can tell you is that there are many more like me throughout the entire world. Taking on forms of our liking, keeping everything balanced.” He made a play of the smoke that surrounded him. Illustrating story as he spoke. “Recall, a moment, the poem. Each element there is like myself, in that we are all trapped here. Only to place our hooves among your kind to set right the wrongs of others.” The play pawned an evil king overthrown by his subjects. “Unfortunately, we cannot watch forever as we must rest.” And the smoked flashed to a burning house with the culprit running away.

“Ethereal beings need to rest?”

The smoke flushed away behind him. “We do tire, just as any true living being does.”

“You told me there was a story you wanted to share the next time we met, was that the story?”

“Not entirely.” He summoned up the table again, but without setting for tea. “Sit.” I did as he did. “It is more about your mother than anything else. She was a volunteer, helping the Designer discover the world and its workings. You see, he was a child at the time and as all children do, they will put their paws out and grab what they can. Inspect it with curiosity until they know what it is. The Designer and the rest of his kind were scared of all that was in this world. So we sought help and that help was your mother.

He began to weave his smoke again. Coloring circles to show who was who. “When they had finished, he returned with her and she stayed with us. Breaking away from her own kind despite the hatred they held for us. We were savages, we scared them, even though we kept to ourselves. In truth, they more scared of the strange.” A pause as he reformed the smoke into something familiar, the console room in Planar. “Here, the two of them experimented with much. Magic was a strange thing for us and was far more than our minds could handle. So he set to create designs large and small to bridge our gap in knowledge.” His smoke made exploding beakers and the turning pages of books.

“When we found all that could be known, he found a way to become something else. Though not sinister, he found that it caused a shift in the world. Day never moved and the night never ended.” a spinning globe halted in its rotation. “Thus, he created the last Seven Designs to reset it all. We all joined him, in a way. We set out to right what we wronged and we must be cautious of where we step.” The globe began rotating again.

“Were there any that didn't join him?”

“If they didn't, he killed them himself or they died by other means. There was one who had an unfortunate run-in with a giant manticore.” He shooed the smoke from the tabletop.

“So what about designs other than the Seven?”

“For starters, there's that earring of yours and the Bibliotheca. He used that placed to write hundreds of books and rewrite quite a few more. Quite a few things are obvious if you take a look at them, regardless of their shell. Some things he outright took out of existence so that your kind could find them out on your own.”

I was a bit frustrated at that. “Then why do we not know the world in full? Having every mountain and ocean mapped out with every peak and body of water labeled.”

“Because to restore what was before the shift, he had to take away. Without doing that, the shift would have caused the world to become unbalanced. Magic would have left the places it needed to be to sustain life in order to fill the hole he created.”

“And to fill that hole he needed you and the others take what moved and put it back?”

“Exactly!” Aeron shouted exuberantly. “And we've nearly finished that task.” A being of death, excited. Unusual. “But we've been having trouble finding the last bits of it all.” he sighed.

“What if he has it?”

“We would know. Wake up now, I can't keep you here.”

With that, the white plane broke away. My eyes eased open to my journal. I don't remember falling asleep earlier. Aeron's doing, I assume. I coughed as I pulled my head off the desk and straightened up. I wrote all that happened within that world. Yet, there was no spit of drool on the surface. Drooling in my sleep is a bit of an old habit for me, not one I'm fond of either.

I leaned back and dully stared out the wide window. Provided a nice view of Hestan. A tall wall before the even taller buildings. I could see it now, what Aeron meant. These buildings were theirs, but only the frames. The walls were creation of the races who lived here since Aeron's kind disappeared, so to speak. Which begs the questions, what did his kind look like and how much impact did his kind truly have on ours?

I can't really begin to say. They were trying to bury their existence for thousands of years and now I feel as if I to slowly rediscover it. I wish I could remain a simple courier, honestly. I could place blame on Idol or mother for getting me into this mess, but that's not right nor fair.

Chapter 19: Leaving to Return

#148
Spring. Day 164. Late Evening. Canterlot.

I left Hestan this morning, as much as it pained me to do so. Ginger and I had one last hour of intimacy before breakfast. Plus a final kiss before I stepped through the portal. Took my time saying my goodbyes to her, Ginseng, and Degressa plus just about everyone else I got to know while I was there. Ginseng gave me a letter to give Celestia, which I've already given her. Something of a trade agreement, if I remember rightly. Ginger gave me the stare she first met me with, hard and true. If I didn't return, she will hate me for it.

The portal has a clause to it, unfortunately. It can only function once every thirteen days. When it's active, it allows passage for the entire day and ceases when day ends on either side. I'm still marveling at how it can function like that. Regardless of that, it left me more than slightly ill after I got back to Canterlot. Left me bedridden for last part of the day. As a note, morning in Hestan is early evening here. So I may not have been as far away as I had initially thought.

Tomorrow I take the train to Ponyville and walk the rest of the way back. As much as I would love to fly, I can't. In my thinking of home, I've gotten tired of wondering what reactions I'll get and save my energy for it when I get there. Still, it's worrisome about what I should say to Apricot about Ginger.

#149
Spring. Day 165. Late Afternoon. Ponyville.

In Ponyville once again, after taking that dull early morning train ride. I received a warm welcome from Pinkie Pie however, as she sprinted toward me with a hug. Slowing down once she saw the bandages. She was extremely gentle. Would probably encase me in bubble wrap if she had it. Twilight welcomed me warmly as well and invited me to a cup of tea while we waited for Zecora to arrive.

Saw Statuesque on my way to the library. Shopping street vendors with Sweetie Belle and Rarity. Helped them carry whatever they bought. He grew just a little taller while I was away. Made me happy he was doing well. Idol was right to pass him off to her, even it is a burden.

When Twilight and I reached the library, she told me of her friends and what they've been up to. Fluttershy gave me a small packet of notes she took about Yukon, my pet eagle. Something I won't be opening until I get home. Rainbow Dash was upset that she couldn't race me now. I was equally upset. Applejack found love, apparently. The two started dating just after I had left. Rarity and Pinkie Pie have been going about their usual business of fine jewelry and party planning.

Twilight has been keeping herself busy with books and finding a suitable bachelor. I joked that she was looking too hard, she had a laugh at that. I told her about my bout with the former prince and the injuries I suffered afterward. I excused myself when things had grown silent. There was something I wanted to talk to Rarity about. Some advice about my relationship.

I entered the Carousel Boutique to the ring of a bell. “At last, an old familiar face!”

“Indeed.” I replied.

“It has been far too long.” Rarity hugged me gently. I still flinched from the soft pressure. “What happened to you, darling? You're all broken up.”

“Well, I got in a fight with a powerful prince and won. But I had to jump out a rather high window to save the king and his daughter. The speed I was flying at didn't give a very safe landing.” I shrugged.

“Saving a princess and a king? You do not look the part of a knight, dear.” She rolled her eyes. “There are exceptions, I suppose. Anyway, how may I be of service to you today, Letter? Clothes, a bit of jewelry to match your new earring, something for Apricot?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you in private.” I felt my eyes harden up a little.

Her blue eyes gazed back into mine, “It was more than just saving the princess, wasn't it?” I nodded. She silently gasped in return. “Sweetie Belle!” She glanced over to a coat rack. “Could you watch over the store for a bit?” Sweetie Belle squeaked out a yes. “Thank you, dear. Come now, follow me.”

Rarity lead me up the stairs and took me into her inspiration room, one she kept under lock and key. A room filled with mannequins, piles of different cloths, and experimental fashions. I took a deep breath as she readied herself to listen. “I wanted some advice and please don't hate me for this.” I unwittingly married the princess and we had sex afterward.”

She slapped me then. A strong strike where my cut cheek is. I could say her hoof hit me like a tree. “I thought better of you, Letter.” the words hurt. “You cheated on sweet Apricot and you come to me for advice!?” She started to choke up. “Even Idol, your childhood friend, thought you better than that!” Rarity put a hoof to her forehead and calmed herself. “I shouldn't be yelling at you, dear. I apologize.”

“I deserve it, Rarity. You know that.” She motioned me to sit in the chair she used. I continued speaking. “I don't think I was really in my right mind at the time.”

“It is that time of year.” She quietly humored.

“It is.” I agreed.

“I suggest you tell Apricot. It would be better than to hide it from her. If you hide it, it could come back to bite you. And that's not the best of things. A mare's heart is a very delicate thing and not one that can be fixed easily once broken. She's just as fragile as Fluttershy is, but she lacks the same confidence. She hasn't gone out into the world as much. I think the poor dear is scared despite a good upbringing.”

“That's true. Guess her and I should figure something out together then.”

“Excellent suggestion there, darling.” She smiled. “Now, I must get back to tending to boutique. I apologize but when you have some more spare time we'll talk, okay?”

“I understand, thank you.”

I followed her back down the stairs and to the door. A tensioned hush between us before she whispered, “Come back when you need to. If she still trusts you after you tell her, do not break her trust again.” I nodded solemnly. “And keep your chin up, darling. You never look quite right with your head down.”

I smiled, “Thanks, Rarity. I'll stop by and visit when I can.” She smiled and shooed me away. I felt a bit better after talking to her. It seems that in the time I had been away, Apricot had gotten to know Twilight and her friends. I made my way back to the library to find Twilight waiting for me outside the door.

#150
Spring. Day 165. Late Evening. Zecora's Home.

“Letter, I need to speak with you inside.” I followed her in. “Spike, out.”

“Twilight, what's wrong?” She glared. “Okay, okay.” Spike gave me a disgruntled glance as he left. The door slammed shut behind him.

“Milady?”

“So Celestia tells me that you've been married into the Kingdom of Hestan. What in the world did you do over there?”

“I saved the king and his daughter and killed the prince. Who overthrew the king and killed the queen.”

I saw her eyes piece together the parts of the puzzle. “Were you aware of being married at the time?” I shook my head. “Are you obligated to any royal duties there?” Again I said no. “Was there any sort of festivities after the ceremony?”

“Something like a honeymoon and moving into a mansion given to me.” I eyed her suspiciously. “Why all the questions?”

“Celestia plans to allot land that I can rule over in Equestria. I need members for court and high priority assests.”

“Milady, if I may, I can suggest three.” She nodded. “Sitka Spruce. She's an attendant to Celestia. However she will only be holding that job for a short time. Then there's my sister, Busy Bee. She was the secretary of Clackerton's postal office before the bombings occurred. Lastly, Charger as a military advisor. They're all very good at what they do. You can always choose your friends to be part of your council as well, milady.”

“While that is an option, I do not wish to pull my friends out of their daily lives. I'm sure you understand.”

“Would you like me to find possible candidates, milady?”

“I'll have to decline your offer for the time being, Letter. You have other business to attend to as it is and I will not keep you from it. You on the other hoof, if I were to have a postal system, I would likely have you as a Lead Courier. You would be responsible for top priority deliveries that Spike would be unable to. When your responsibilities with your mother and the Designer come to a close, return to me and we'll discuss the matter further.”

“Yes, milady.”

“And stop calling me that, we're friends.”

“Very well.”

A knock on the door then, which Twilight dutifully answered. “Ah Zecora, I was wondering when you would arrive. You should already know our guest and where he's going.”

“Positively and absolutely.” Zecora came through the door and had a look over me. “A tale to behold, truth be told. Wings broken with spirit unbroken. Come, by night we should be at my home, there your tale I can comb.”

“Very well.” I repeated.

Said goodbye to Twilight and her friends and followed Zecora through the woods once more. A shorter trip than what I could last remember. We came upon her home and went inside, just as the shadows faded into the night and the crickets began to cheer. Zecora swiftly opened the door and helped me inside, taking fast to a switch that ignited the lamp she kept by the door. It was enough to illuminate the rest of the room.

“Take a seat, you must be beat.”

“I am.” Taking the crafted log by her small table, I added, “Where would you like me to begin?”

“From the start, have a drink, you'll be parched.” She slid a mug of water toward me which I happily took.

So I did. From the letter to the bombings in Clackerton and my mother's spell that threw me across the world. I told of Vesta and the people I met there. From the doctor who cared for my wounds and Ginger who led me to my uncle's former home. Where I found the first of several Designs. Then how Ginger and I made our way to Pecken, where I met her aunt and a rich friend of hers. I learned of Nutmeg then too, how things in the kingdom took to a darker side when he overthrew his father. How he was also Ginger's brother.

From Pecken, we went to Hestan, the capital of the kingdom. Where I was left alone in a guest room with Dagressa, who taught me about wisps. Then how Ginger, Clear Wing, and I went into the secret arena that Nutmeg had created and subsequently made our way to the throne room. I shook a little, telling her about that battle. I had trouble breaking my mind free of the last few moments to continue the story. I didn't think it would effect me this much. I continued telling it, reliving the pain and the words I spoke, until where I had hit the ground.

Zecora listened quietly without a word, intrigued and respectful. I continued after taking a long drink. Starting from the moment I woke up in the Room of Regard to the ceremony. What the king had given me as gifts and how Luna had secured a portal for me to use as travel between Canterlot and my new mansion. Surprisingly, she didn't say anything about the gifts and the ceremony.

“Dagressa.” Zecora said after momentary silence. “Was her kiss like salsa.”

“That's one way to describe it. What are you getting at?” I eyed her.

“She is no simple maid servant. You see, she is a savant.”

It seems that in return for telling her my tale she spun me one her own. Dagressa knew the workings of many things. How magic worked its way through the earth and its subjects. She could turn one's natural magic against them or provide some part of knowledge to whom she considers favorable. If she were to kiss someone, then they would retain the knowledge forever. Among Zecora's kind, she was revered as a wise sage, teaching her kind how to craft potions. For nearly a year Zecora learned under her and when her apprenticeship was over, Dagressa disappeared without trace nor word.

Zecora pedaled back to the bit about the salsa. Saying that Dagressa had kissed her to gift her knowledge. She said no more after that. “I seem to be vexed. I don't often get this perplexed.”

“It's been a long night. We should hit the hay.” I drank down the last of what water I had and moved to the primitive couch she had. Stripped myself free of my bags and got comfortable under the blanket she provided. Tomorrow, leaves me to deal with Apricot and how she'll react to all of this. I'm conflicted about how she'll react. Constantly thinking about either end of the spectrum. I wish I could get rid of the thoughts now rather than later.

Chapter 20: Eidolon

#151
Spring. Day 166. Late Afternoon. Clackerton.

Another day of worry. Detrimental worry. I've been thinking myself in circles ever since I got home from Zecora's. I'm just so darned frustrated with myself over the issue. Should I consult father, I thought. No, he's busy with mayoral duties and Busy is still at the post office, if there's anything left of it.

In the months I've been gone, half the town has undergone reconstruction. It's jarring seeing practically every home and shop half old and half new. Tied together by bars and planks of wood and a good lot of familiar shops still closed. I have a feeling that their owners were victims of the bombings. It's all a bit tragically nostalgic. All I can say is the house feels empty without mother. I wonder how Busy and father are handling this.

Still, I need to tell her what I've done. I don't want to lose her too. Guess I'll just have make my way over and tell her. Apricot, I mean. I'm sure she'll be devastated at least. Beyond that, I don't know what will happen and I won't find out until I tell her. I should rest more, but I'll do is worry myself sick

#152
Spring. Day 166. Late Evening. Clackerton.

I found myself before Apricot's home again, traversing new streets and getting lost several times over. I've had to guess my direction by what I could see of the clock tower. Upon finding myself at her door, I knocked thrice. In the short time I waited, I saw Yukon, peering down from the roof. “You're as big as ever.” I called out. He hopped down without a flap and glared at me. He grew alright, bigger than Celestia, even. He lowered his head and sniffed, feeling the air shift around me as he did. He gave me a small coo and nudging his head into mine. “Easy there.” I smiled, petting his in return.

Not hearing the door, “So you've gone injured yourself again? Don't you remember our conversation before you left?” Apricot said, a slight smile on her face. Poorly hiding the weariness in her eyes.

“I have.” I stopped. “And I have more than that to say. May I come in?”

“Yes, of course. Yukon, back to the roof.” The bird hopped back up. Houses must be like branches to him. Wonder if I could use him for my job. Shaking the thought, I let Apricot lead me in. “Take a seat in the dining room, I have something to take care of real quick.”

It was plain what she wanted to take care of, she wanted to clean herself off. Get the smell of animals and rid the bags out from under under her eyes. Still, even if she was tired, she was pretty, and that's one of many reasons I love her. And now, after the bombings, she seems rather delicate but her eyes hold more confidence than they used too.

She came back down, poured glasses of water and took a seat across from me. “Well, tell me. The last letter I got from you was when you got into Hestan. You didn't mention anything about your wings then, said they healed. Still look a little broken to me.”

I cleared my throat. “I got caught up in the affairs of Hestan royalty. The princess, Ginger, had a brother she wanted to oust off the throne because he wasn't treating the citizens well. He also imprisoned the king and poisoned the queen. I wound up fighting him to the death. However, he had used magic to throw Ginger and the king out of the tower.”

I paused, her face slightly twitched at the fact. “The former prince had ensnared me as well so I broke a wing and grabbed my flight equipment. Then I jumped out the window and saved the king and Ginger.” Taking another gulp of water, I continued, “But, that lead me crashing through a tower and landing in the fields nearby.”

“That's quite the story, Letter.” Apricot answered. “Something tells me that's not all of what happened.” My eyes found the floorboards more interesting. Apricot's voice lowered and trembled. “Is it? Letter, please tell me.”

“I- I... I got married. To Ginger-”

“You what!?” she cried in disbelief. “You better have a good reason for this.” I could feel her fragile heart begin to crack.

“I didn't know. She said it was a ceremony and it's tradition is far different than what we have here. It clicked well after it was over. Although, she didn't have it recorded into the records and the only witness was the king.”

Devastation still rung her and shrunk back in her chair. “Did... did you two still... have sex?” she blushed. Her usual innocence wouldn't have her asking this question. I nodded. “Give me some time, Letter. I need to sort this all out.”

“How much time?”

“I don't know.” she got up and took to the stairs. “Go see your family, Letter. They need to see you.”

I looked at the glasses, she had emptied hers, mine was still half full. I watched the water sit there a while. Mind empty as a dried and dusty well. I went outside and looked to the roof again, Yukon was still there, watching over the house like a guardian. “Yukon, let me know if something happens.”

He let out another coo.

I ran for the post office, surely Busy was still there. She would have to be, as hard as she worked before she would be working harder now. I found the post office much like I found Apricot's house, lost and confused. To my surprise, Busy was asleep at the front desk. Some nefarious part of me queued up then. I took several stacks of envelopes and began placing them around her head. Careful not to nudge, she's only a heavy sleeper to noise, but not pushing and shoving.

After managing to construct a bridge over her head, I tapped her horn. She jumped and shrieked while I sat there and stared. “Who did that? Who – OH, Letter!” She leaped over the table only to slip and match her face to the floor. I smiled, enjoying my brief prank. She fumbled trying to get back up. “Brother! What a fiendish thing to do. How was your trip? You must – what happened to your wings?”

“I can talk about it later, at dinner. Is dad going to be around by then?”

“Yes.” She hugged my tightly, yet cautiously. “I'm glad you're home. I'll give you a week or two off to rest. You've earned it, I'm sure.”

“How have things been going around here?”

“Some folks are still having trouble adjusting, sadly. Some families had their homes entirely redone. We've had to cut down more forest in such short order that the lumberjacks got exhausted. The construction crew had more problems, getting every blueprint in order and expanding the town further up the mountain. Your friends you made over in Ponyville and Canterlot were a big help.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” she answered, taking care of the mess of envelopes. “It was a pleasure to talk to such astute royalty, you know. Celestia, boy I wonder why she hasn't married yet. She's such a gorgeous mare. Same goes for Luna and Twilight too. Though, Twilight is far younger and inexperienced than the both of them.”

“That much is obvious, Busy.”

“True. Did you already visit Apricot? She's been worried sick about you, you know.”

Lowly, I answered, “Yeah, I did.”

She gasped, “Oh, if you did what I think you did...” She glanced around the floor, two other ponies were chatting to one another, working out new routes over a table. “In the office, now.” If Rarity gave me scolding, then Busy would easily roast me. I followed her into the office. A room she had earned as her own after the previous postmaster had retired. She locked the door, closed the blinds, and casted a spell to seal away sound. “What happened, I want it clear and to the point. This is about family and friends and not work. This will not affect your job as an extended courier..” that's new. “but it will affect my thinking of you.”

Taking a breath, staring into her eyes a moment, then exhaling, “I was wedded into royalty without prior knowledge.”

“What was the purpose and how far did it go?”

“I helped the princess take the throne back from her bad brother and the imprisoned king, with his daughter's consent, married the two of us. Gave me a mansion to my name and a few acres of land along with it. The extent of the relationship between his daughter and I has gone to, well, intercourse.” I shied.

“I would say congratulations, Letter. I won't blame you for being young and not knowing about the marriage arrangement. But you should have restrained yourself. The brother I know has always been reserved and helpful and not given to temptations. Especially when it comes to something like this. I should fire you, Letter. Our code of conduct clearly states that we are not to directly interfere with matters of the government. You've violated that rule and Apricot's trust.” She flared.

She calmed herself, closing her eyes and taking long breaths. She was right, I had violated the code of conduct. And I did more than break Apricot's trust, I broke her heart. And perhaps even my own. “However, you weren't on a job. Though you may have delivered a few letters while you were there, that is not on us. Adding the fact that most things that occurred were beyond your control and thus likely forced to make decisions and actions that would normally be deemed as a violation, you are cleared of any strikes against your record.”

“You've done your homework.”

“Wouldn't be here if I didn't.” She quipped. “I would give you a thrashing if this was more blatant and debauched. For your sake, I hope that princess can hold her own. What did Apricot do when you told her?”

“She said she needed some time to think about things.”

She leaned over me, I'd forgotten how tall she still is. “Go back and see her, she needs you. She may not have said it but she does. You have to let her know that you can still be there for her. Fragile hearts are prone to more than just breaking, Letter. They can be burned and swept away, never to come back. Now get, ya hear!”

So I ran. The night began to fall. Yukon met just outside the post office doors. My heart sank. Without a second thought he carried me off in the clutch of talons. Yukon dropped me off on the roof and smashed open one of the windows to Apricot's room. “No...no no no no.” She hung there from a rope. I cut the rope and gently lowered her down. She was still faintly breathing. I recalled a few of health class lessons together and began pressing down against her chest repeatedly. “Come on, Apri, breathe right, dammit.”

Her breath only failed further. “Shit!” I whined, beginning to panic. Desperate I increased my repetitions. No luck. I tore the band off my ear and controlled the newly released wisps without speaking a word of magic. I could already feel the magic drain me. I thought back to our health classes again, remembering anatomy. I plugged her nose and sucked the air from her mouth. I hoped to use the wisps to repair what had been lost. I lifted my head up to exhale and saw the wisps find their way into her body. I concentrated on the memory and kept my repetitions precise. Press, lift, press, lift, press, lift, breathe, listen, repeat.

I don't remember how long I was there but she came through with a heavy cough and a daze. “Letter?”

“Easy now,” I said with a tearful smile. “Could you lease not do that, ever again?” I held her close, “Please.” I was beginning to realize what Idol had said to me, being in love for so long that you don't notice it. She joined me in crying. It was bitter and yet it was warming. It was a wake up call for the both of us. We should've discussed things further instead of walking away from each other.

“I saw something, Letter. Some sort of monolith.”

“Relax, Apricot. We'll discuss it a bit later. I want you to rest a bit, first. Okay dear? Let's get you to bed.” She agreed under a breath. Yukon peaked in from the broken window, curiosity and worry in his eyes. I gave him a letter to deliver to my father and a copy to deliver to Apricot's parents, wherever they might be.

#153
Spring. Day 167. Early Morning. Clackerton.

“Apricot, are you still with me?” I whispered. She nodded gently. I sighed deeply, “Good. Listen, my dad came by a bit ago, I asked him to get Dream Seer.” She had described the monolith in full. An altar platform before a buried construct of something ancient that glowed like the moon. That alone was enough to flag the story Dream told me last fall. I've been up all night, watching over Apricot, making sure she got what she needed. The rope had nearly collapsed her wind pipe, making it harder for her to eat and drink. If I was any later, she probably would've died.

It's my fault that she went through this. If I could have just controlled myself a bit more and not let my lust of love consume me, I- we wouldn't be in this situation. I'm happy she's still alive, truly I am. I'm not sure how my mind would fair if I were to lose her too. She's been a part of me my entire life, after all. We took all our classes together, played together, and sometimes we even ate dinner together with both our families at the table. If passing came to be, then that would all be gone.

It's new, this feeling of conflicting happiness and sadness. There's a word for it I'm sure, but I can't be bothered with that right now. There is one part that is angry, mostly at myself.

“Apricot.” I called out to her, hushed, pushing down the sadness. “I still love you.”

She peered over with lifeless eyes, “You ran off, got married, and had sex with another mare. You expect me to still love you after that?” I had never heard her voice spit so many nails.

“No,” I said after some thought. “I want you to know where my feelings lie. I want to know where the two of stand.”

“I already told you.”

“You told me to give you time and I found you strung up by rope.” My suppressed anger creaked through. “Suicide isn't a very good answer, you know that.”

“What answer would you like then, because I've searched my heart and I've found nothing.” tears rolled from her eyes. I never saw her this furious before. “Nothing is all I've ever found.”

I held her close again, she held me tight. “Maybe it's best to do nothing, Apri. We can make it through this, trust me.”

“Letter,” she choked. “Don't you ever do it again, otherwise there will be no 'us' or 'we'. I will rag on you about this later. And after this whole deal with your mother is over, you'll introduce me to this Ginger Snow.”

“I'd hate to break up a happy moment between you and Apricot, son, but you've a guest.” My father was always patient about things. Never really got angry at Busy and I unless we did something bad. When he was home, we were always excited to see him. And he was happy to see us. A typical thing, I've learned but ever since mother had gone, he's hardened and his new position as mayor has tired him out. I wonder how he's truly holding up. “Dream, come in.”

“You wished to see me, Letter?” It was strange not seeing Apparition at her side.

I took to the chair again and faced her, “You have some explaining to do before Apricot tells you what she saw. How did Prince Nutmeg know about you and my family?”

“Prince Nutmeg merely promised me to help look for my home. I came to him as a pony who could read dreams. When I saw his dreams, I saw death by your hoof. Every night he had nightmares of it. He always said he would be happy once it finally ended. I found out about you and your mother through your uncle, who had brought me flowers one day in exchange for a telling of his own. Went on about how great a nephew you were to him. Then I found you here as a young colt.”

“Then you went back to Nutmeg and came back here again?”

“Good assumption but not quite. I helped him for years trying to decipher that script. The volumes I have were from there. I came back to find you as the last piece of the puzzle, Letter.”

Suddenly I felt kind of bad for offing the prince. “Did he help you find your home, at all?”

“Nary a thing. He had only given me a set of numbers. Neither of us could figure them out.”

“Were they already translated?” Dream nodded. “I have an idea. Bring me those numbers, my mom had some written down in the volume she gave to me before she left.”

“I have the numbers memorized.” I reached for my journal and flipped to the proper pages. She closed her eyes, even if she is already blind. The numbers matched perfectly, a small set of them did. Now I only had to wait for Pipsqueak to get back in contact with me to see what he made of them.

“There's a match, but I haven't figured out the numbers either. My guess is that it's something simple and we're clearly missing it. Other side of the coin says we'll never figure it out.”

“I'll come with you, Letter.” Dream said. “I'd love to go back home.”

“I know. I gave a friend of mine a cop y of these numbers before I got back. He's a sailor, says they look similar to something on one of his old maps he found. Hopefully it will give us enough of a lead to go off of.”

“When will he be contacting you?” Father brokered. “Can we trust him?”

“Once he's figured out the numbers and we can trust him because he's servant to Princess Luna.”

“Good. I'll take leave here, I have another town hall meeting to attend. Bloody frauds still have their hooves in places I have yet to consider. It's amazing the town didn't run off their money.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Only when they're bickering mindlessly.” he quipped. “I'll hear your story when you get back again.”

“I'll see you then.”

#154
Spring. Day 167. Evening. En Route to Canterlot.

“I want to go with you, Letter.”

“You're safer here, Apricot. Besides, you have a pet care center to run. It wouldn't be wise to keep you away from it.”

“I can have Fluttershy take care of them. I could even hire a few ponies in town to help out too. You know that I'm not the only one willing to take care of the animals.” she wheezed out her voice, still sore as before.”

“You can come, but when trouble comes around, don't get caught in the middle of it. Okay?”

“I promise, unless your life is in danger.”

“Don't go losing yourself doing it, then.”

Apricot was up and about, though her breath was still short. Still seems a bit shaken about what she tried to do though. I can see it in her eyes despite her face trying to hide it. Not sure I've seen something so heart wrenching.

We traveled to the docks, meeting my family just behind Flight Gears home. Apricot's parents were nowhere to be found. Left Yukon to take care of my family. I had to tell Flight about the demise of his flight equipment and gave him what few shards of it I had left. He was sad to see his work meet such an end but he was glad that it helped me out. It gave him more inspiration toward the version of the equipment. He was positive he could make something even with my broken wings.

To my surprise, both Apricot and Dream didn't pack as much as I thought they would. Dream said that most of what she had was better off here aside from a few books. Not to mention that Apparition helps with most of her problems. Apricot found all she needed were a few things for hygiene and crafting small jewelry. Plus a cloak to keep her from the weather.

Busy said she would keep my position open for me while I'm away. I thanked her and said my goodbyes before helping Apricot to the airship. Pipsqueak rode in on a Chebec, a sea-faring vessel with a levitation spell casted on it. The ship had a long and narrow hull made of wood with windows for both cannons and oars. Three masts having triangular sails, taller than the masts and positioned more like a slope than a pyramid. It was strange to see and awe-inspiring to know that engineering like this was possible. Class taught me that these vessels weren't used that often because sea storms could easily sink them.

Pip had a small crew for the ship, just enough to get the sails together and control the few cannons he had. He'd designed the pattern of the smallest sail towards the rear after Luna's cutie mark. Kind of funny to see. I wonder if he got around around to proposing to her yet. Perhaps he was too busy with the numbers to remember. Speaking of which, he found them to be coordinates, not just for sea-faring but for land travel as well. So he and Luna mapped the world with a grid and took their time marking every intersection of lines. Remarkable, really, considering it only took a day or two.

We're currently en route to Canterlot for basic supplies: food, water, extra wood, cloaks, and spare tools. Pip took the liberty of introducing us to his crew of five. Stone Wall, a hulk of stallion, gray and blocky, an earth pony with short a mane and tail. Naphtha, a darkly colored pegasus whose fetlocks curled, his mane and tail imitated the oily look. Green Leek was another earth pony, tall and lanky and also the ship's chef. Verdigris, a copper coated and mossy cyan freckled, is the unicorn that maintained all of the ship's parts. His mane and tail though, are more of a shiny bronze flecked with silver. Brier was the last one he introduced, a younger earth pony with a stubbed foreleg he had recently picked up from a nasty forest. He has a bed-head mane, covered his eyes and his ears and his tail was a knotted mess. Still had a few briers in it, even. Looked like a moving mound of dirt with legs.

They were all pretty welcoming aside from Brier, he was the shier one of the batch. Pip seemed to be something of an idol for him, which was good. I suppose there's a story there. Though, Naphtha did try to flirt with Apricot a bit, she shot him a look of disapproval. He reeled back and apologized. Stone Wall was quiet and seemed to have some sort of military background. Noting from several scars and his straight-necked posture. Green Leek is the more cheery bunch of the group aside from Pip and Verdigris appears old and worn. His eyes heavily wrinkled and bruised looking.

#154
Spring. Day 167. Evening. En route from Canterlot to Topazi Lazulia

It seems that Topazi Lazulia isn't all that far away from Eidolon. We wind up stopping there for more supplies if we need to. I doubt we'll run out between that quickly. I'm interested in seeing the town there. Centuries old from what I remember. Well known for its mines of Topaz and Lazuli stones. Funny that they didn't come up with a more creative name. I guess they weren't to concerned about it at the time. Maybe I'll even see the home of the folk hero that I loved to read about when I was younger. The one that vanished with the last storm he vanquished.

Aside from my anxiousness, Apricot had trouble sleeping last night. Her dreams quickly turn to nightmares and Dream keeps having to calm her down. Every time its something about the monolith she saw before and some massive surge of magic that winds up running through it. Nearly blinds her until I yank her away and the two of us escape the caves. Says she heard a voice before the monolith erupts into a phantasm of colored lights, “It is time.” Dream was perturbed by it all.

#155
Spring. Day 168. Afternoon. Topazi Lazulia.

We arrived at the docks of Topazi early this morning. Place is a ghost town. We searched every house after finding that it was practically abandoned. For a place that was prosperous, for the citizens to get up and just leave is strange. Pip and his crew looked through a good portion of the papers left behind. Apparently ghosts were beginning to come up from the sea and from the entrance of a collapsed cave. Every fourth night they showed up, bringing with them howls of pain and with their leave, the happiness of the citizens. Which involved old artifacts and placing loved ones in a permanent state of sleep. There were a couple homes we found old corpses in, skeletons of those once beloved. A shame, honestly.

After scouting out the town for awhile, we went back to the ship to discuss what we should report and what the next step would be. Pip would discuss the towns condition with Luna later tonight, then head into the caves. According to the papers, it was at least a quarter day's walk. We opted to simply drive the ship further up the coast instead. It can fly, after all. We're venturing there before dinner and spending the night there before going into the cave. Mostly to observe and see if the ghosts will appear tonight.

#156
Spring. Day 169. Early Morning. North of Topazi Lazulia.

We camped the night out on the ship, which I came to learn only today that Pip called it Purple Moon. Yet another thing he dedicated to the Princess of the Night. Speaking of her, she did come along last night and discuss things over with Pip. He woke me up to have me join the discussion. I idly listened to what the two of them had to say and to my surprise, it wasn't much. More getting her approval then talking to her about other unrelated topics.

I kept away from it, keeping my head rested on the deck railing, toward the cave. The collapse had created quite a crevice in the ground above, a tiny valley, really. The lapping waves and brisk air made things a bit relaxing. My problems felt lessened and my shoulders seemed a little lighter. Such a liberating feeling. Then the cliff wall began to bleed green and hordes of ghosts began to seep through like syrup.

I called out to Pip and Luna, who both became dumbstruck by the sight. Pip quickly snapped to and told Luna to put up a barrier around the ship. She did so in a flash. However, the ghosts paid no mind to it and continued on down the shore line, as if they were preordained to take that direction. But as quickly as they appeared, they began to vanish one by one. All of them replaying the way in which they had died. Drowning, stabbed, starvation, old age, to name a few. The disturbing thing was that we could hear them. Luna cut the noise too.

Dream came up from the cabins and pulled me down to see Apricot. When I came into the room, I saw Apricot crying with a pillow held over her ears. “Make it stop!” she howled, over and over again. I asked Dream where Apparition was, said he had to hide from the ghosts, otherwise they would find him. I muttered a swear and told Dream to leave, locking the door behind her.

I hopped on the bed and held Apricot as close as I could. Telling her to focus on my voice and try to ignore the dying ghosts. Strange that she was able to hear them after Luna cut out the sound. Maybe it was her close encounter with death that is causing her this trouble. She eventually calmed down but I can't help but remember how badly she was shaking at the time. I don't blame her for being scared, really.

As things are now, we've set up a small camp just outside the cave. After breakfast, Pip, Dream, Stone Wall, Apricot, and I will be heading into the cave. Just as soon as Verdigris and Stone finish clearing the entry way. Can't say how long that will take. Still no guess on where Apparition is hiding, can't really help but feel that he's actually up to no good. Maybe it's just natural distrust that formed after Nutmeg had told me that Dream was a spy.

Seems the cave is just about done being cleared up, aside from a few snags. Good thing Naphtha knew a thing or two about digging through something like this. We'll be heading in as soon as the two of them know that it's clear up ahead. Other than the ghosts, there's no telling what else may have taken residence in those caves. What we do know is the smell from the cave is rather irritating. Didn't smell like rotting though, more like a pack of wet dogs.

Regardless, we carried on through the bowels of the winding caving, passing a few skeletons and managed our footing across slick moss covered stone. From what Dream said, the cave hadn't changed much, she could see in here too. Her eyes were more adjusted to the dark now that I recall. The first sprite of daylight on the day she escaped from here clouded her sight. After some time a breeze filled the cave with a deathly chill. Pip wondered if night had fallen, his pocket watch disproved the thought. The chill continued the further we progressed and by the time the single torch to our rear burned out, we were greeted by a massive opening.

The place found stone eroded by wind. Stone once carved by hammer and chisel and worked cautiously to avoid collapse. To support the more dangerous parts, large pillars of quartz darted up and through. Some were more elaborate, creating archways for passages or forming a bridge over a deep ravine. At the other end, slow moving fog coasted beneath a thin, pulsing stream of white light. Broken apart by branch-like stone. Eidolon, I thought.

A dull hum found its way to our ears like a blanket. “I can hear them...” Apricot whispered. “... they're calling to me. They want me to join them.”

“You're not going to.” I assured.

Dream moved forward and for a moment I saw Apparition flicker by her side. As if something here had been interfering with his presence. “We're almost there. I apologize, Captain, I must continue on with only Letter and Apricot. No trouble.”

“Very well. I'll keep my crew here and stay guard. Do what you need to and come back. This place has given quite an odd itch.” Pip replied, concern tweaking his voice.

The three of us approached the fog and worked our way through it. The stone here was moist and faintly the sound of a distant waterfall trickled into our ears. While it was comforting, it didn't help the haunting mood. The humming became a little bit louder and the pulsing lights drew closer. The fog grew thicker than a brier bush. Apricot steadily closed in on me as it did and a single glance told me her mind was full of fear. She could hear the dead speak, and they wanted her. She'd been thrown in a cage full of vicious animals and escaped. I wondered, why would the dead be so hungry?? Certainly there had to be kinder souls amongst them. If that's even a thing.

We broke through the fog, nearly out of breath, as if it had taken ours. What greeted us on the other side was a massive crystal pillar, quartz, like the ones before. Only, the light was more vibrant, and brighter. Yet, it felt as if that light was dying. The light was ensnared by branching stones, webbed around like an incomplete cocoon. At the base was the altar that Dream told me about before, caked in dust and untouched by the ages. Beside the altar was something of an arced door, recessed into the crystal.

Dream reached out to the altar, touching the centerpiece, gold in color. Drew a short breath and spoke words that sounded strikingly familiar but I was unable to place my tongue on it. When she lowered her hoof, the altar began to have its engravings traced over in a glowing green light. “Do you remember what I told you, Letter? About the altar?” I nodded, vaguely recalling the fact. “Then it is time.”

The ground rumbled beneath us. A boom resounded through the cavern walls and the Eidolon flared up in a flurry of glowing colors. The shapes of ghosts swam through it all, screaming in terror, pulled apart by the rushing tide of lights. Apricot huddled to the ground and plugged her ears. The fog vanished too, absorbed by the tide and taken by Eidolon. From the recessed doorway, came Apparition in all of his ghostly features. “Ah, fresh as the morning sun.” he stretched. “Only, there's a piece missing. A piece that escaped my grasp only a few days ago. Brought back by a fool who's played games with death.”

“A fool? What are you on-?”

“You know what. You brought Apricot back from the dead. She was supposed to be claimed then. But no, you refused to let her die. Thanks to Dream, I can claim what is rightfully mine.” he threatened as Dream retreated behind the altar.

I placed myself before Apricot. “No.” I held my head high. He sported disapproval but something in his eyes said something else. A chill sprang out from beneath me, a cold I had felt once before. “Aeron.” Apparition reared and a dozen ghosts poured out his back like the tentacles of an octopus. In a flurry of silver-green sparks, the ghosts bounced away and faded away.

“Thought it might be a good idea, following you around.” Aeron jested. “Designer was looking for this fellow for quite some time. Not often I get to protect the living, Letter.” He turned to Apparition in all his white glory. “Say, when one plays a game, it is fair that the rules be laid out beforehand. Both sides knowing what advantages they can obtain and how they can use them. To keep the ground even, the host must also play fair and mustn't be allowed to rig the game at hand. Tell me, Apparition, what kind of game were you trying to play? I would love to hear it.”

Apparition gave no reply and struck again, flailing his ghosts about. I could see it now, fear, though he hid it, it was there. Rising like a trapped rat but he wasn't cornered either. Aeron faked a yawn and continued his chatter-boxing, “For having the personality of a butler, you sure are short tempered. I imagine the lives you claimed are having quite the fit, being trapped in there. You can hear them, can't you Apricot?”

I turned to her as she steadily got back on her hooves, “Yes, I can. More clearly than before too. They.. they want to be free.” I turned back to Aeron. Even looking at the back of his head, I could see his face crease into a smile. “But how?”

“The perfect question, deary.” He blocked another blow. “You must simply recite the same words that Dream spoke a second ago. She can tell you them, just ask nicely, just change the last word to the first word. This game of cards will end quite shortly, I assure you. A trump may not even be required.” Another ghostly head came barreling toward us, Aeron clutched it tightly and snapped it like a whip. With enough force to throw Apparition off his hooves. I thought ghosts didn't have to worry about such an earthly thing like balance and footing. “Now do the thing, you little love birds.” He darted off after him, quick as a hummingbird.

Words I haven't heard in awhile, certainly. I took Apricot, red-faced, by the hoof and pulled her closer to the alter. I looked around it and found Dream shaking and crying. “I'm sorry, I didn't know- ”

“Don't worry about it right now, Dream. Recite the words again and have Apricot repeat them.”

“Very well.” She got to her hooves and wiped away the tears. “Once this starts, we cannot stop, otherwise, death.” She had Apricot stand before the altar and place her hoof where she had hers. And they began the process. I could hear the magic pulse faster and faster as they recited the words. Slowly ascending to a higher note.

A crash rang out as Aeron tossed Apparition across the cave again. Was he ever a ghost, I wondered. I watched the fight as Aeron merely danced through the striking heads. I realized that this was a battle between light and dark. Odd considering their positions and stranger still to silently cheer on a personification of death. Aeron smashed a hoof across Apparition's face, throwing him to the ground once more. I could nearly hear a crack, like bone shattering.

Familiar words began reaching my ears again and a pause came before the last one. Apricot spoke the first word without Dream's needing to speak. Eidolon suddenly lost its glow and luster. “What happened?” Apricot whispered. Part of the surface began to shift. Higher up another recessed door began to form, only larger and deeper. The web of stone shifted to frame it perfectly.

Apparition came flying toward it but halted by a web of ghostly arms. Aeron followed, pushing him back with magic of his own. His smile faded to a frown, “We could've been friends still, you know. Shame really, the Designer advised you against this too, you know.”

“The Designer is mad. Crazy, even. We could've won the war if it weren't for him. He went and locked us all up! Kept us from his secrets.”

“He had his reasons and I've heard them and you're one of several. He took away greed because he knew exactly what would become of this world if it continued like it did.”

“Greed always comes back. It's stubborn and burns deep. You know that all to well.” He menaced.

“I know.” With a final thrust of his magic, Aeron forced him into the recess. When the two touched, another explosion of light occurred followed by a resounding boom. He lowered himself to the ground and sighed, “Can you hear them still, Apricot?” She shook her head. “Good.”

“So what gives, Aeron?”

He smiled distantly, “A lot, Letter. A heck of a lot.”

Chapter 21: Light Show

#157
Spring. Day 169. Late Afternoon. North of Topazi Lazulia.

Always thought the figure of Death would be somber and lifeless. Yet here he's told us his life story. What he could of it, at least. There are a few secrets that he couldn't reveal until I meet the Designer.

His story was pretty rough. He and the Designer were of the same species, tall and curious. For him, money was everything he needed. It got him his food, drinks, and love. It seems he set everything to a gamble of sorts, from chess and checkers to fights and dares. He noted there were far more extreme cases. Before his gambling habits, he was a scientist. Set his eyes to studying everything his kind could see, down to the strands of life that made things work. To create definition where there was once was none. Explain what is and how.

Aeron was the Designer's assistant at the time, and in a sense, still is. Apparition was a friend once dear to Aeron. Playing the same games and drinking the same ales and whiskey. However, the games got the better of Apparition, he had fallen to his own delusions of greed and started hording everything he won. Aeron had the better cards, taking in money and being charitable with it.

When he and the others of his species discovered the workings of magic. Aeron, the Designer, and my mother worked together to see the full extent of it all. With their work they discovered the way the world worked. However, the Designer came upon a revelation of his own. Having one night tapped into the purest and untouched forms and learned all that there was to know. His discovery lead him on to hiding his precious work.

Aeron questioned his motives and failed to get a proper answer until he finished Bury, the last Design he created. “We can't let them have this. Our kind is given to greed and temptation. War and destruction and romanticizing it all to make it far less morbid than what it truly is. I've seen it, Aeron. We have to hide this, as a whole. Leave this world in peace, but forever keep a watchful eye on it all.” At first, Aeron thought he was crazy. Anyone would after seeing a fellow scientist turn tail and hide his work.

Aeron argued what he could but the Designer offered defeating rebuttals at every point. He could have ran off and exposed the information, gambled it with others who could make use of it but would incur would be exactly as the Designer had described. Desolation and war. Endless war far more scarring than what any of us know today. Aeron agreed to help him, giving up his pursuit of gambling.

Aeron's new role wasn't convincing his kind that they should leave, but rather they shouldn't and isolate themselves in their homes and rooms. Aeron had a more pleasing face than the Designer's, his face and playfully charming smile made it far easier to communicate the massage. His senior's face was far too stiff for such a thing but his presence alone enforced credibility. Everyone knew who the man of mystery was and the major rumor that he had powers beyond their imagination ever since he started working with my mother. Apparition rose to challenge that notion, as he always did.

The relationship between the two was more friendly rivalry where one couldn't exist without the other. They gambled together whenever they could playing against, or with, each other. Slowly and surely, Apparition worked his way into the isolated chambers containing the Designs. Apparition had a talent with hacking, even with all the new found knowledge the Designer had, the codes and mechanisms seemed trivial to him. Child's play, even. It seemed that at the end of it all, the Designer knew exactly where he would be, letting him win until the very last moment.

When he fired up the controls, he saw what it could do: raise the dead and control them. Their ghostly forms at least. His greed got the better of him then, and he began taking the ghosts as his own and at the same time, discovering what the Designer was planning. That was when Aeron pulled him away and solemnly apologized. Apparition argued that they could easily overthrow anyone with that one design alone. The Designer snuck in without a sound, ensnared Apparition in fit of calm rage and unbound magic. Tearing out the emotions of greed and wanton lust from the world and fed it unto Apparition. Changed his personality to what we know now and killed him.

It took a bit for Aeron to continue his story after that. Visibly shaken by what he saw all those thousands of years ago. After a brief breather, Aeron started again. He skipped what I had already known about his kind and how the majority went to Acacia to sleep. How others went their own way. Apparition was still the loose end, however. The Designer knew that even if he buried his designs, that they would be uncovered. He set out a small groups to look after certain parts of the world. Having them take on different and new forms. Eventually, they were retired and set to return the distorted stream of magic to what it once was.

Aeron explained that it wasn't the tearing of greed and lust, instead it was something else that even he didn't know. But it was safe to assume that it was far greater than he could imagine. I asked about Apparition then. He says that it was a loose end, that the summoning process was another way for us to make sure things were okay. Eventually Apparition would be one of those and with it, Eidolon would quake. As he still held the ghosts he absorbed.. The reason why Dream was forced from her old home.

To fight that, Aeron had to do something of the same and for the longest time he fought amongst his thoughts to straighten it all out. Taking the time with each and every one. Getting to know who they were: their dreams and their failures. Taking them to their descendants and collecting new ones along the way. It was when he found my uncle when he found out about me and my mother. By instinct he followed me, kept me alive when I nearly froze to death. Kept Apricot from the verge of it when Apparition had choose to haunt her.

“That's everything. Take your time writing it down.” He finished with a dim smile and tired eyes. He looked at Dream, who had drifted off. “Unfortunately, Dream will have to come with me when we part here. We're both tired and she should of passed ages ago. Apparition kept her cruelly alive with a lie and his own magic. You can stay for her rites if you wish.”

“I'll stay. I have a bit to thank her for, after all.”

#158
Spring. Day 169. Evening. North of Topazi Lazulia.

After the story Aeron had told Apricot and I, we parted ways. Although Dream and I didn't know each other all that well, I still wept for her passing. She was still a friend and her death was more closure for her than anything else it seems. Her dozing off during the story was actually her passing, something I failed to notice at the time.

Aeron had placed her on the altar and simply touched her chest with a hoof, where upon she immediately turned to dust and ash. Aeron twitched as if he taken her as part of himself, Like the others he had gotten to know. How many had he truly gotten to know, how much time had spent doing all of that? It must have been mind numbing after a while, I imagine. I wonder how many others had to go about doing the same thing.

Aeron stayed with Eidolon to perform another task. A shutdown process that could only now be accomplished. Apricot and I went back to Pipsqueak and his crew. Breaking free from the fog that began to dissipate along with the humming Eidolon produced. I wonder what will happen to all of the ghosts that that Design had contained. Pip greeted us both happily with a quick and obvious question. I simply explained that Dream was like a ghost trying to find her home. He seem to take that in with some disappointment. Perhaps I can explain the prospect of the Designs to him at a later time.

Slowly, we made our way back out to the shore through the winding cave. Small banter popping up between the shipmates to fill the empty silence and shake off the cold. By the time we had finally reached fresh air and the soft ocean breeze, relief overwhelmed us. Seemed they were all worried about the cave collapsing during the fight. Pip thought they were tremors and I let him think that. I can explain the truth at a later time.

We continued on to the ship, packing up what equipment we had taken off of it in the first place. Storing it neatly away in the spacious cargo hold. Something that held far less than I thought it would.
I suppose with the whole flying feature, they need it as light weight as possible.

I spent some time staring back the entrance of the cave we left, some part of me hoping that Dream would come back or Aeron would leave it at some point. Then I saw something odd but not at all unfamiliar, the wisps. Thousands upon thousands of them pouring out from the stone and grass above. All of them different in color and size. Then I remembered something mother had said to me. As if my mind had buried the fact and only now recalled which stone it placed the words under. “Wisps are ghosts of our past, Letter. Some day they'll pour into the sky and give new life to the world.” I can't recall why she said it to me, of all things.

After nearly an hour, as the last of millions of wisps faded away, I saw a vivid white streak dart into the sky, hover a moment, and vanish over the horizon. Apricot saw it too. “You think that's the direction we have to go now?” she whispered.

“Could be, we'll find out if the coordinates lead us there. For now I'd rather get some sleep. I'm sure you would love to get some after having those voices in your head.”

She stifled a laugh, “That would be wonderful.” She paused, glancing down at the railing, as if the grains of wood kept were far more interesting than the stars above. “M-May I sleep with you tonight, for old times sake?”

“I don't see why not. Huddled together in the clock tower all the time anyways.” I smirked. “I miss that, I really do. I could use the company, too.”

“So can I.”

Chapter 22: Wedding Story

#159
Summer. Day 170. Morning. En Route to Canterlot.

Apricot and I slept together last night. I had dreams of Aeron's story unravel in my mind the entire time. Partly disturbing and overall strange. For a moment, I think I saw what the Designer had done- or at least felt. Aeron mentioned him seeing the outcome of something, should they continue their presence in their previous forms. Rebirth doesn't seem like the answer, it doesn't fit. The Designer hasn't heard of it.

From what I can recall from my dream, the Designer shrouded in black, tall and lanky, reached out to a console eerily similar to the one at Planar. He flicked his arms up and commandeered a array of screens glowing bright and revealing our local solar system. Planets ringed by asteroids and moons and even other smaller planets caught up in their orbits. The screen had labeled each in an all too familiar script. The planets were labeled with a string of letters and numbers, indecipherable to me but there was a small connection between a few of the parts.

The screens focused in on the largest planet in our system and a white blip appeared from one of the moons. More appeared when the screens focused on the other planets. The Designer formed a chair with magic of his own and sat down in it. Leaning forward he contemplated his decision once more before taking in a long and tired breath. Then with a final touch, he triggered an absurd number of lines of text upon text constantly changing and scrolling through string after string. When the screens faded and the console lost its glow, the shadow said: “And now we wait.” A white flash woke me then.

It was an absurdly realistic dream. I could sense everything in there. Still, I have the feeling that I don't quite yet have the answers in my reach. I wonder if there's another piece of the puzzle I'm missing that we don't know about.

Aside from my strange state of dreaming, we're heading back to Canterlot for supplies and to attend a royal event of sorts. A wedding, I should say. Pip asked Luna after we had first parted ways in Canterlot, after my incident in Hestan. Might explain why I haven't seen her that much since we've been on the ship. Though, I do wonder if Celestia has ever thought of such a thing. Perhaps her duties have turned her away from love. Perhaps she already has and is simply staying faithful. I should ask, maybe, when we get there.

After the wedding, there's the honeymoon of course. Pip thinks there's a nice resort area near the next set of coordinates he mapped out. Says he passed by the place before and comparing it with his other maps, it's not that far of a stretch. It seems that Circuit is the next one and oddly enough, the last two are in a slightly similar location. Their numbers off by just a couple digits. For a moment, I thought I recognized the area he had pointed out, but the name slipped my mind and said nothing.

I found Apricot asleep once more in our small and shared room on this ship. I took to lying beside her and writing in this journal of mine. I came across the pendent she had given me while digging for my journal. The ear band too, was hiding in there, refusing to move. Perhaps I had no more magic left to use. Though, I still wonder what the connection is there, between the wisps and magic. Maybe I ought to find someone who understands it far better than I do.

I turned my attention to pendent, which had lost some of its luster over the year. The polish fading and scrapped, revealing the true color of the metal Apricot had used to craft it. I flipped it open and looked at the pictures. My heart fluttered again and a smile grew slowly across my face. Apricot had snuck in two newer pictures of us. Portraits facing one another, new and unscathed. I recalled the older one of myself and compared. I had grown far more than most ponies should. I looked tired and distant. Apricot looked more mature too. Her eyes looked more motherly, as if taking care of those orphaned pets had given her a new perspective on things.

I looked at her then, yearning for her to be closer. In much the same way I was to Ginger. Felt my face burn red and began thinking about committing the similar acts to Apricot. Surprising I hadn't thought about it before. Guess I was far too preoccupied with what was going on. I kept staring until her eyes slowly creaked open. I glanced to the door as if I had heard a noise on the other side. My heart fired up and hoped that Apricot wouldn't ask anything. Eventually, my backside was all she would see.

“Letter, what are you doing? I swear it felt like someone was drilling holes in my head before I woke up.” Shoot.

“I might have been staring at you.” I said, my eyes still aimed at the lifeless door. Something that clearly had little to no intricate craft whatsoever. Worn planks of wood had some life there but not enough to warrant the staring contest I had with it. “I-I might have gotten lost in a bit of thought.”

I felt her brows raise as she stretched her forelegs. “And what kind of thought might this be?” she nudged my tail playfully with a hoof. “Why is your face is all sorts of red?”

I traced a crack in the floorboard, “I-I- uh well... well yes it was, but what if I said it was a bit more than just thinking about all that we've ever done together.” I stammered out the words.

“You mean like marriage? Letter...” she squeaked. “Isn't this bad timing. I mean y-”

“Not exactly, Apri. I mean, it wasn't marriage I was thinking about.” I imagined her lips against mine in a way far more romantic than our last kiss. I buried my head in my forelegs. I couldn't understand why I was acting that way, still can't. Nervousness, maybe?

“Oh. OH. Oh my. Oh my goodness, Letter.” I could feel her face light up and a flustered panic overcome her. “Maybe when we get back home. That would probably be for the better. I mean...” she trailed off as if overbearing steam from her head had muted her.

“It's new, thinking of it. With you, I mean.”

“It's the next step, really... I just think we should hold off on it, okay? And no more roughing around with other mares, either. Speaking of which. Did I tell you that I would like to meet this 'Princess Ginger?'”

I raised my head, the embarrassment fading away. “The portal should actually be open by the time we get back to Canterlot. But it only stays open for one day every thirteen days. So we might wind up stuck there for a while.”

“I don't think I would mind it too much, you know.” Normally, Apricot was a bit more timid about such a thing. I guess my saving her and showing her some of what was really going on in my journey. Maybe she's found some sort of courage from Fluttershy and the rest. “My mother is a famous fashion designer, after all.”

“That's true.” I always seemed to forget about that for one reason or another. Never really remembered her name either. Which is rather unfortunate. “I have to go on to the other designs, Apri. I have to figure out what my mother means by Rebirth.”

“Wouldn't the Designer know? I mean Aeron said he foresaw something terrible.”

“He did, but the question his how far did that foresight actually reveal to him? For all we know, it could have been something they already prevented and the time has long passed.” And now we wait. “No, whatever it is, it's still an issue. The Designer would've relinquished his grasp on the world by now if that was the case. There's still something that's not set right...”

“The question is 'what.'”

“I have an idea. In Hestan, there was an under ground structure that he had apparently used once before. He said he shut it down but I have the itching feeling that he didn't. That design is called Planar, for a very good reason and the excessive height of the tower above.” The dream flickered back into mind. “It's part of something bigger. Oh shit. Oh my fucking shit.”

“Easy with the language there, Letter. What's gotten into you?”

“Planar refers to astral or space and that tower acts like an antennae. It functions like a fake unicorn horn. And the tower at Hestan used to have a massive shield surrounding it. Apri.” I said, my hooves grasping her by the shoulders and my face nearing hers. I could've of shaken her like a rag-doll. “Aeron's kind knew more about our world and our solar system than we do. It's why they were in hiding. It's...oh shit. I think I might know what their original intentions might have been.” A part of me felt absolutely terrified. Aeron mentioned his kind loved war, in a variety of ways.

“Letter, calm down and breathe.” Her eyes locked to mine. “Breathe.” and I did, slowly. “Good. Now, we'll get the captain to stay in Canterlot for a few extra days. While the two of us go on in there ourselves and hopefully contact the Designer.”

“We'll be able to. I can read his script, It shouldn't be hard to turn the thing back on again.”

#160
Summer. Day 170. Evening. Canterlot.

We got back to Canterlot surprisingly fast. Pip kicked up the speed of the Chebec after he realized that he was going to be late for an appointment, to get his suit fitted for the wedding. He invited me to be part of it as well, even if I wasn't playing an important role. Told him that Apricot and I didn't even have proper attire for the occasion. Said not to worry, royal palaces and castles are used to these types of things. A little bit of magic and having nearly everything on hoof already helps a lot. Don't call them wardrobe rooms without a reason.

Tomorrow is rehearsal and the day after is the wedding. Pip hopes that nothing hoes awry, to the more extreme extents. One example being another changeling fiasco, like Shining Armor's and Princess Candence's wedding. Not something I heard too much about, despite the fact that it was such a huge event. Guess news can only travel so far without dangers being involved.

I wound up meeting Sitka Spruce again. She'd been assigned the task of organizing the entire wedding down to the step. She seemed more exhausted than the last time I saw her. I suggested that she take a break but she refused. Said she wouldn't have it and a break would have to wait until rehearsal was over. It was after the short quip that she lead Apricot and I to a fitting room where were pulled apart and measured for every seam and length.

For a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of Rarity on Apricot's side. The large velvet curtain obscured any possible means of seeing the other half of the room. Muffled voices far too much to be anything intelligible. On my end was a mare, young and aspiring, light cyan in her mane, with a flowered clip, and tail. A lighter amber color for her coat. Like a marshmallow that absorbed the tiniest bit of hot chocolate. Wore a collar too, purple and white with a red tie. As she lightly danced around me, I couldn't help but feel that some touch of Rarity had rubbed off onto the mare at some point. For whatever reason, I didn't bother to ask.

She went through a stack of suits and gave me one before rushing me into another room and locking the door behind me. That is when my glimpse became the real thing. Rarity stood there with a smile. Pulling the suit from off my back with her magic and began adding her own touches to it. In the midst of lifting spools away from the single table she had, she said: “Ah Letter, I didn't expect to see you in this wedding.”

“Well, it was kind of short notice, honestly. Pipsqueak offered the invitation and didn't take no for an answer.”

“Because he trusts you, Letter. You're the one who gave him the extra push after all.” I hadn't thought about that. I guess he needed an opinion from someone that wasn't a part of his crew. “Aside from that, did you tell her?”

I hesitated, having the urge to continue talking about Pip, but I didn't have much to say in the first place. “I did.” My eyes caught the large work of stained glass on one side of the room. Stretching from the floor to the ceiling, depicting a single flower. “She tried committing suicide.”

“Tried?” She said, unflinching.

“She tried hanging herself. I got back to her in time, after foolishly leaving her house, and saved her. I can tell she's still shaken up about it, even if she tries hiding it.”

She sighed, “Maybe you shouldn't have told her after all.”

“It was for the better, in the long run.”

“Yet she still stays with you... I wonder why.”

“I'm curious too, about the answer for that.”

“Perhaps you already know it.” Her magic weaving a pattern of lines in the cuffs of the undershirt I was to wear. “It might take a little bit of looking, darling, but I'm sure you'll find the answer.”

“Did you and Idol have difficulties like this?”

“Hrrm, I suppose we have. I got jealous of a few other mares he was seeing. He always wholeheartedly assured me that it was just business. Several times I assured myself that it was a lie. We had our arguments about it but eventually I could tell when he was telling the truth. And when he lied.” Her voice lowered, our thoughts felt the same then. “Especially when he started getting sick.”

“That was a bad habit of his.” I smiled with a heavy heart. “I always wound up having to take care of him regardless. I wonder how he faired before he met you.”

“Funny you should mention it, dear. We met on the train out of Ponyville. Said he went through Everfree on his own and wanted to go to Manehatten so he could start a new career. Being the element of Generosity, I offered my help. He graciously accepted with a bow.” Her cheeks turned the slightest bit red. “I never met a stallion of his status who had done that. It's a shame his illness took him like it did. He did so many wonderful things.” The suit tumbled to the ground as her focus dulled. “He outdid himself.” Her eyes watered up. “I just can't forgive him for being so charming.”

I moved to hold her and she wrapped her forelegs around me. I did the same, “It's okay, Rarity. I never could either.” She buried her head into my shoulder and cried her heart out. “My mother said this when my uncle passed: 'Let us not dwell in the hole he left in our hearts. Instead, let us turn the hole into a monument.'”

“She sounds like a wise mare.”

“She was. For a variety of reasons.”

She squeezed me tightly before finally pulling away and drying her eyes. “Oh dear... my makeup is all runny now. Letter be a darling and fetch my kit from the shelf over there, please.” I did so, pulling it from a lonely shelf on the other side of the room. Brought it back to her to receive a thank you and patiently waited for her to continue working on the suit's many parts.

Rarity went on to tell me the name of the mare that had take my measurements and their connection to one another. Coco and Rarity met each other at a contest and after some tribulation with one of the other contestants, Coco left her employer and took up interest in working with Rarity instead. A happy ending there, I suppose. I guess the other contestant, who lied and cheated her way through, wasn't so happy about Rarity winning regardless.

After that story, she helped me into the suit, making sure it fitted my body perfectly despite my crippled wing. I've lost a lot of movement there, Rarity crafted the suit to make up for it. Cleverly hiding buttons underneath the fabric to make it seem as if it hadn't been altered at all. When the final alterations were completed, she stuck me before a large full length mirror. Something that stretched according to her will. I'd never worn a suit before, “ravishing,” she said. Apricot's mention of marriage darted through my mind and my face turned all sorts of red.

Rarity chuckled, “Darling dear, what's gotten into you? You've worn a suit before haven't you?”

“No , I haven't. The wedding with Ginger had something different. There's a different reason for this, I assure you.”

“Oh.” Rarity eyed me with her utmost interest. “Do tell, Letter, you've made me curious.”

I took a deep breath, “Well, I was thinking about the same scenario that I had with Ginger, but with Apricot instead. I told Apricot because well, she caught me with my face all red while I was thinking about it. She mentioned that marriage was something we could wait on.”

“Oh darling that's great. Maybe after your little adventure is over, you should pop the question.” She humored, stars in her eyes. “I can already imagine the dresses and veils and shoes. I only wish that Idol and I could experience the same thing.”

“What counts is that you both loved each other very much, no matter how long or short that may have been. We've all lose someone in our lives and what matters is that we keep going and that we remember them.”

She glanced to the window, “You're right.” She jolted her attention back to me with a jeering smile and clapped her front hooves together. “Anyways, I have more attendees to get to, dear.” Then proceeded to remove the mirror from my sight and poof my new suit into a small box. Which she then gave to me. “Here, keep this somewhere where you can find it. I don't want to have to adjust another one. So don't go ruining or losing this one.”

She nudged me out the door where I met Coco once more and Apricot, who held a similar box. “Apri, I see you got something too.” she nodded. “Well, I guess we should head to our rooms, if there are any reserved.”

“Pip came in and left to tell us that we could just spend the night on the ship. I mean, we don't exactly need a fancy room.”

“That's true.” I looked to Coco and thanked her, then told her to pass my thanks to Rarity.

Apricot and I made our way back to the ship without much of a fuss. Nor did we lose ourselves in the large and lustrous castle. I suppose the strong breeze helped out quite a bit too. When we got back to our small quarter on the ship, we set our boxes down next to our bags and comfortably nestled against each other in silence. She quietly mused herself to sleep while I write in my journal. I still find it odd that her happiness has so flippantly overwhelmed her depression. Maybe we're both feeling the same about it, our relationship, I mean.

#161
Summer. Day 171. Late Evening. Canterlot.

Well, the wedding went over pretty well. Everyone who was anyone was there. Hundreds of friends and family from all walks of life gathered in the castle's largest hall. Sat in row after row under arched ceilings with a multitude of glass chandeliers merely meant for decoration. Apricot and I got seats in the third row from the stage. She looked lovely in that dark and bold blue dress of hers.

The procession was lovely too. Each groom stallions walked a brides maid down the aisle, who were dressed in dark hues of purple or blue. I wasn't surprised when I saw Twilight and her closest friends among them. Luna had eight in total, the other two being Sweetie Belle and the other was a mare I had never met before. Pink in color and pink, purple, and yellow mane. A bit flashy, honestly.

On the other half of the stage, were Pip's groom stallions. His crew members were there, all accounted and suited up. It was kind of weird to see Stone Wall dressed up in a suit. His broad body made it seem as if a flinch would tear his suit apart. The others were better formed and slimming and all the same aside from their furs and manes.

Celestia stood under an arched trellis, adorned with pleasant looking vines and berries. The vines knotted together in a decorative fashion, entangling their ends in the most wonderful ways. Upon the upper most knot, were two gold flaked leaves that shimmered under the light. There's some symbolism there, I'm sure, I didn't have the opportunity to find out at the time. Celestia herself wore a simple dress, something that wouldn't draw attention away from the bride.

With a glance, the organist changed the tune to something more overbearing and happy. In a moment all heads turned to the door and any chit chat ceased to exist. Save for the organ, it was a deathly silence. First down the aisle, Pipsqueak who held his head high and proud. For a moment, I could have mistaken him for Idol. He ascended the single step and turned his gaze to the door. The organ blared a low note again.

Then came Luna from the doorway. Faced veiled behind a white laced cloth drawn from a blank white cap. Her dress was long and delicately crafted. White all around save for flourishes of glittering silver and gold. The tail of her dress trailed behind her and was helped up by two mares. An orange pegasus with a rather small set of wings and a yellow earth pony who walked much like Applejack. We all watched on as she approached the stage to take on that single step. As we did, I couldn't help but see a smile run over Pip's face as kept himself from choking up. Out of joy, I'm sure. I swear I've never seen a happier pony before then. Even Idol couldn't compete. A quick nudge from his closest groom stallion made him snap to, breaking the solid and stiffened stance that he had.

Luna took the step, the tail end of her dress helped up and pulled onto the stage. The two mares took two of the empty seats in the front row and watched on. Another glance from Celestia and the organ slowly dropped dead. The player covered the keys and turned his attention to the ceremony that was about to begin. The large doors creaked close with a stroke of magic and Celestia began to recite her lines as if it were a play she had read a thousand times over. However, it seemed it was something she wasn't tired of, but excited for. I can only imagine the feeling.

At a certain points, Pip and Luna recited, and repeated, lines that Celestia spoke directly to one or the other. Then came the small stories of how Pip slowly fell for Luna. Started off with how they first met on Nightmare Night and then to the moment where they met again. When Pip also promised that he would offer his services whenever she needed them. After that, he began his life as a pirate, then a personal flagship and the first of its kind. The last point Pip made were his adventures with her and the reason behind his proposal. She was the last piece of the puzzle to him. Typical, but nonetheless sweet.

Luna gave her words too, starting with her awkward visit upon Nightmare Night. Something that was quickly resolved with the help of a few her bride's maids. Then she went on to say something similar to what Pip said. Only from her point of view and at first, she had a small attachment simply from old memory. That attachment slowly grew the more time they spent together and eventually, she was just eagerly awaiting the moment for him to propose.

With a last bunch of words between the three of them, Pip kissed his bride, now his wife. Then the organ blared its pipes again. Loud and clear for all to hear. Probably heard throughout entirety of Canterlot. A cheer roared through the hall alongside thunderous applause. A standing ovation, too. Deep in my heart, a part of me felt proud of Pip despite the fact that I barely knew the pony.

After that, we had the reception in the ballroom. Decorated much the same as the hall before. Glass chandeliers, streamers, fancy curtains, and incredibly large rugs. This time around, there were far more tables. Most were circular and the largest stretched nearly the full length of the shortest wall. That is where the newly weds and their chosen ponies flanked them on either side.

Before everyone took their seats however, we watched Pip and Luna cut the largest cake I had ever laid eyes on. Pinkie sniffled after they both delighted in the taste. Proud of her work, I assume. Then came the tossing of the bride's flowers. I saw Apricot off at that, giddy and excited to catch the bouquet as her own. Something she happily succeeded in. There was an old tradition, often forgotten in Clackerton, catching the bouquet meant that the mare who caught it, would be the next in line for marriage. No matter the time between them.

Apricot came back to me in that moment just as happy and joyous as ever. The happiest I've ever seen her. She hugged me and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. After that we grabbed some food and sat down at our assigned tables. We sat by Statuesque, a pony I was surprised to see and Coco Pommel. Sitka took a pulled up a chair to the table as well, as it had a good view of both the long table, dance area, and the rest of the tables. I introduced Apricot to the others, who received shy hellos.

After a while of catching up on interesting points in each other's lives, aside from my own, I left the ball room to take up some fresh air. While I enjoyed the atmosphere, there's only so much noise I can bear. The sun had finished setting, only a dim fiery orange remained just above the horizon before cooling to the dark and lovely shades of magenta and violet. The breeze was soft and a tad chilling but oddly comfortable.

“Enjoying the fresh air Letter?” Pip said, breaking my empty thoughts.

I glanced over to see his tie disheveled and lips stained dark blue. From Luna no doubt. “I am.”

“Now, don't lie to me, what really happened there, at Eidolon?”

“So you knew I was lying?” He nodded, suddenly my shoulders released a tension that I hadn't noticed before. “It's a bit of a tale. I hope you don't mind.” Odd that I didn't hear him approach.

“I live for that sort of thing, Letter. There's more than just adventures, maps, treasures to the high seas, buddy. Tales are by far the most fascinating, and in a world full of magic and wonder, there's always going to be something new and untold. Your eyes alone hold more than a fair share. Always staring into the distance, wild even.”

“I suppose.” I smiled dimly.

I started from the beginning, starting with my job. To Light Fringe, Dream's history, the discovery of the Designs. What they were and how they came to be, apart from the pieces I'm still missing. How I wound up in Vesta because I had inadvertently gotten involved in the dastardly schemes of a friend's family. Then I told him about my recovery in Vesta and my continued journey into Peckan and Hestan. After that I told him about Ginger's connection to me and my understanding of wisps. Finally I told him about Eidolon and Aeron. After I finished speaking, I wasn't sure if he was actually listening at all.

“So, you've made friends with a bringer of death, took on a prince who wielded an ancient power, translated a ton of ancient script we were never able to translate, took on a mafia boss while wounded, and married a princess who you escorted while braving a maelstrom of snow? I thought I knew crazy, Letter, but you've bull-headed some dangerous situations. You keep doing this kind of stuff and you'll wind up being more than a legend.”

“That's not something I'm planning on.”

“Thing is, most folks don't. We become famous in our own right in different ways. Take a look at Twilight, she never really intended on becoming more than a quiet librarian with only her assistant. When Celestia instructed her to move to Ponyville, the events that followed have lead to her being a princess was likely something she never imagined from the start. On the other hoof, there are those who want they want to be from the get go. They plan everything out to what extents they can.” He mused. “You are the former, like Twilight. Others have thrusted a large responsibility onto you. What you do with that is up to you but you can't simply drop it. It will come back, two-fold, and it'll hurt.”

“You sound like you're speaking from experience.”

He gave a short laugh. “Yea, I suppose you could say that. Anyways, I leave you to stargaze. Luna is probably getting a little impatient with me. We have a dance to do before the night is through.” Before heading back inside, he turned and gave me his thanks.

Surely Pip couldn't have been much older than me. How could he be so wise and able? Had his adventures as a sailor lead him to some great gain in knowledge? An spell that made him skip a few ages? I recall his story about Nightmare Night, he was no more than a colt then. That was at least two or three years ago. There's a mystery to Pip I don't quite yet understand. However, that's something I think I'll learn later down the road.

Shaking off the thoughts I wandered back to the doorway and leaned against the frame, peering upon the newlyweds as they slowly swayed back and forth. Like an anchored ship bobbing in the ocean. Their heads butted together, eyes closed as their legs and hooves took to memory. Every step precise and proper. Before I knew it, Apricot was at my side. “You're going to have to learn that one of these days, you know.” she whispered.

“I know.” the reply was instinctive.

“Do you want to head back to the ship?”

“Let's stay a little longer.” She smiled and sat down, resting her head against my shoulder. The bouquet tucked under the belt of her dress.

It was quite some time before the ballroom finally cleared up. Eventually it was just the four of us: Luna, Pip, Apricot, and myself, talking to each other about the simplest of things. Gardens, birds, roads, weather, crummy days. The larger issue I had was merely an other worldly problem. So far and distant, dim and nearly forgotten. It was great, feeling like that again. The last I shared in such a moment was with my family, eating dinner. Nearly bursted into tears in the middle of our conversation when the thought crossed my mind. Apricot cheered me up then.

Exhausted, Apricot and I finally left the castle's halls and took refuge in the ship once more. In the morning I'll have to find my way to the portal, either on my own or with Luna's help. For now, Apricot and I rest in our quarters. For whatever reason, I'm still wide awake and my hoof is barely aching even after all of this writing. Maybe it's some of the wine numbing the pain I'd usually have.

Chapter 23: Under the Tree

#162
Summer. Day 172. Late Afternoon. Hestan.

Another long day; got up, packed, went through the portal with Apricot, got a little nauseated as I normally tend to, and went greeted my distant wife, Ginger. Who, as it turns out, is now pregnant with my foal, who has yet to have a name. Needless to say, Apricot wasn't too happy about that but she calmed down rather quickly about the topic. However, she also warned me that if I were to cheat on her again, she would leave me for good. If anything, I hope that I never do. On a positive note, Ginger and Apricot got along surprisingly well. There were a great many things they talked about before we finally went into the city's center. Things only mares could discuss between them.

We ventured to Planar again, which has been recently sealed off from any normal traffic. Aside from royalty and the most astute researchers that only King Ginseng approved, I was the only outsider that was really allowed in that dim and dusty place. It was haunting, coming back to a place that was completely shut down. I approached the center console again, remembering the ring that had clung to my ear. For whatever reason, it never clinged back after I tore it off.

I'm using several of the researcher's lanterns as light sources. They give off a blue glow that is distinctly warm and easy on the eyes, even in the darkest of places. There are blinds in them too, which can be moved around to direct the light or taken out completely. I did the latter. I've loomed over the console for the longest time and flipped through my notes for the longest time. The researchers had placed their own notes on this thing. Mere educated guesses, really. None of us know what most of the stuff even does. One marked frequencies, another indicated a series of meters, notation of keys. There are so many buttons, knobs, switches, and sliders, it's hard to imagine, believe even, that one being controlled all of them.

After some time I found myself able to figure out what I needed to do. I've prepared myself, mentally, for what could happen next. I only wish that Apricot could be here with me.

#162
Summer. Day 172. Evening. Light Fringe.

It seems I'm back to a familiar place, the ancient tree of Light Fringe. I cannot recall the name of the thing. However, The Designer says that the tree was also his doing. He regretted having to tear down half the kingdom to hide its true function.

Before that, I should go over how I wound up under the oceans again. I managed to turn the communications panel on and connect to the Designer himself. Who was not at all surprised when I did. He commanded a few pieces of equipment that teleported me here, to Acacia. It seems that there is another passage directly underneath the trunk of the tree, or say he says.

It's weird being in a place I never thought I'd come back to, honestly. Not to mention the memory of those nightmares I had back then are coming back. However muddled they might be. The Designer tells me that they were simply part of a spell to keep anyone unwanted away from it. A rather extreme way to go about it, honestly. However, he assured me that as long as I keep my head clear I should be fine. At the time, it seemed he wanted to say something else, but he held his tongue. I have a bad feeling about that.

Getting more to the present, I've managed to find the tree that this place was once so fond of. The center of it at least. I've been looking around and I haven't figured out where the entrance could possibly be. Hold on, what's this...?

#162
Summer. Day 173. Early Morning. Acacia.

“M-Mom!? What in the world are you doing here?”

“I've come to guide you. You must remember that I am not your enemy.”

“Does this mean your head is finally right?”

“It is, but our tasks are still incomplete. I shall open the way for you.” She fired off several pieces of her magic and forced the stump of tree from the ground. “I have been keeping an eye on you, Letter. I must say, I'm both disappointed and happy for you.”

“I feel the same way. ” We've meandered our way down a dark flight of stairs, light only by my mother's glow. A glow that simply emanated off of her and required no magic of her own. “So, what is Rebirth?”

“I'll be telling you very soon, don't worry. You should hear the story of our beginnings first. There is always far more that happens than what is recorded in ancient texts. Even in those books you love.”

I simply nodded as we progressed further down the long and narrow hall. There were no doors, no torches, no halls that branched off. Yet something was telling me that we were going in a large circle that slowly spiraled inward. Almost immediately after mother assured me that we weren't walking endlessly, we came upon another source of light. It was cold and blue and forever distant.

The hallway opened up to a large room of what appeared to be rows upon rows of expertly designed coffins with foggy glass. All of it was alike, unchanged, no individuality among them. Catwalks peered out from ones from the ones further up, I swear I could hear the metal breathe.

“And this is his greatest Design, Acacia. It is also his biggest burden.” She glanced around, eyes searching for the right route in that morgue. “This way.” I followed without question, our steps created nothing more than haunting echoes. Gave me the chills.

We eventually came upon a familiar scene. A myriad of screens, windows looking into different places. A single chair and an outstretched desk of sorts with buttons and switches galore. An all too familiar voice spoke then, without the interference of the systems he was using. “It's been a long time, Honey.”

“Indeed it has, sir.”

“You can drop the formality. I am... far too old for that now and that time has long passed.” The chair turned around to reveal an oddly familiar figure. Tall and lanky, wearing a lab coat and thick, heavy glasses. “I suppose it's time to tell you the truth, Letter. The answer to why you're here, why you're mother is the way she is. The reason behind my work and ultimately the decision you will unfortunately have to face.”

More light poured onto him now as he rose from the chair, using a cane to support his weight. He walked on two legs and leaned into his movements. The screens behind him changed to display the solar system I had seen from my dream. “That's... our solar system, isn't it”

“Correct.” he smiled. “Honey, you raised a good kid, despite his flaws. Anyways, my kind, the human kind, came from another place far away from here. A place called Earth.” The screens created a stretched image of the planet. “We grew from caves and stone to the skies and space. You see, as a race, we adored science. Used it to further so many different aspects of our lives that many of us took it for granted.” he frowned. “Medicines, computers, beds, books, food, electricity, sound, videos, and most unfortunately: war.” The screens played a collage of videos, black and white and in color of everything he listed.

“Your planet knows war a fair amount, but ours raged on into several galaxies. We created robots, completely autonomous machines, to fight for us to reduce our casualties. For a time it worked, then something ticked in their minds. They became curious. They found that war and service was all we used them for and some got curious. I remember reading the feed from one of them: 'What is it like, to be human; to have life?'” he walked over to the wall that barred the morgue from his computers. Lights flicked on to reveal a figure similar to him. Only crafted out of dark cold steel and panels that concealed its inner workings. The thing was strapped to the wall as if it were a hostage. “I told this fellow: 'That is the first step.' Soon the robots bonded together and rebelled despite our laws that were created to prevent such an incident.

“They learned how to be human, eventually, which was ultimately, our downfall. Robots created new robots without effort. With materials from their fallen brethren. Conquered land and set leaders to rule it. Developed personalities and even learned to care for biological life. We humans were forced to retreat at every turn. They became, us. Blood and organs, brains and hearts, only with skins of our strongest metals.

“We needed something to defeat them, so they sent me to find that answer and I made a blind, uncalculated jump into the vast unknown.” he turned to mother and I. “And here we are, tired of a war torn past.” The screens switched to a map of stars and began plotting line after line, some of which were erased immediately afterward. “We humans fled to every corner we could find, just to hide. Even if it was only for a day. When I found this planet, and ultimately settled here, I researched everything I could. Aeron told you that much already, Letter. Now, you have another answer.”

“So, what was it that you saw?”

“Mass genocide. Eradication. Magic would be able to defeat them but they could adapt far faster than we humans ever could. Even if we did defeat our creations, we would only use the magic to fight amongst each other once again. Back then, it was the first time we fought something other than ourselves. I tapped into the largest vein of magic this planet had and used it to see the future. I tapped into once more to complete my old plan.” he held up a finger, holding a hand to his chest for a moment. “As a result, you see the man before you.” he coughed. “Aging slowly for millenias on end. I put all of my people in those chambers. Most of them have died now, frozen in time because of the cryogenic systems. Some lived far better lives than what I would ever have or what they did have. Recall Aeron's story there, Letter.”

“The changing of forms.” I mumbled. “Then what was it that you did?”

“Termination.” He sat back down in the chair as the screens displayed a picture of both robots and humans, crossed out with a big red 'x'. “I killed two birds with one stone. I used this planet's magic to do it and that is why we've been spending our time giving back to it. My use made the planet unstable and the designs were made to offset and bring some amount of stress relief, so to speak. It is a regret, even though it was a solution that solved the problem. One shot was all it took, then I concealed everything I could.”

I had nothing to say. My jaw was dropped and I was nothing more than stunned and wide-eyed. “Now the only thing left, is Rebirth. Which took me surprisingly long to figure out regardless of how simple it was. Honey, explain.”

Mother approached his side. “The wisps that you see are manifestations of magic, as you already know and these wisps are something we throughly researched. This man has even created a few new species other than us, who were already native to the planet. The minotaurs, haast eagles, and singular creatures like Discord among many more were all created by his hands. Some he regretted and immediately exterminated. He went through thousands of books and repurposed them to something we could better understand. Theories and laws of nature written and recorded and changed. Languages and scriptures of all sorts, he weaved without notice.

“8000 years of it, Letter. The Designer and I have spent that time doing this and that. We are the last of what needs to be returned, Letter, my son. Rebirth is something that I have worked painstakingly created. With it, the movements of the planets will return to normal and the Designs will become obsolete. Which unfortunately means that this solar system may once again become tainted.

“To prevent that from happening, a key must be created. Crafted from the bone of the beast you helped kill nearly a year ago. I will accompany you.”

“But didn't you just say you killed off your entire race!?” I protested. “How you even managed that is mind numbing. You killed off machines that sought to become like you. Why should we even worry about a key? Why don't you just stick arou-”

“ENOUGH!” The Designer shouted. “The magic we have used must be returned.” he coughed. “As for your concern, Letter. It will only be a matter of time if the key is not made. A time when unkind space faring species and races will come to prey on this planet for its life and resources. It may not be humans, but fearless beasts who know no pain, no fear. Hordes upon hordes. I have been protecting this planet from far greater evils than my own kind. We humans were the first to come across this planet.” he wheezed, clenching his chest with his hand. “There is no other alien species that I have met able to bend matter to their own will. To manipulate and create things out of thin air. “I felt his old eyes burn holes in my skin. “Do you understand, Letter?”

“I...I believe I do.”

“Good, I shall accompany you as well. This lab will be fine without my presence.” He rose from his chair once more, morphing his cane into a staff. One with several rough cut gems of irregular sizes floating just above the top part. “You remember the story behind that beast, correct?”

“Vaguely.”

He smiled. “It was another creation of mine. Another piece for hiding it all.” He approached me and my mother followed closely behind. “The beast is a formidable foe and that wand you gave to your mother was merely a piece of her magic she had left behind. Anyways, let's get going.”

“I have a question.”

His face brightened a bi then. “Yes?”

“What happened to Aeron and what's going to happen to everything after this? To this world, I mean.”

“Aeron... passed away when Eidolon shut down. The force of the wisps tore the body apart. They were happy to finally be free and... thankful. As for the other question, what I know will happen, is that the planet will devour all the work I've done. The tower in Hestan will slowly become a tree or earthen spire. These islands will rise above the sea once more. The snowstorm in the Frozen Desert will finally cease to exist. Those are only a few, I cannot give you all the answers.”

I acknowledged his wisdom and in a flash, he teleported us into the broken down and half destroyed castle. It had collected far more dust than I thought it would. Though it already was pretty dusty. He had teleported us to the aftermath of the fight that I had with the beast. Well, the king and his knight, not myself. I can barely recall their names. We went through the hole and look around the large chamber. The rotting corpse of the beast had nearly half decayed. Enough time for an awful stench to fade and the blood to turn to black. Fur stiff as stone and bones more rigid than boulders.

“Seems that wand did the trick back then.” the Designer spoke nonchalant. He began to cast magic and tear bone from meat. The tearing sound was uncomfortable and spine tingling. Like rocks to a chalkboard. “The only way to kill this creature, funny enough, was using part of itself. Enchant it so it could use magic and viola, something that can kill the thing.” He continued crafting the bones, crushing them into powder and swirling them about his hands. The magic from his staff continued to break down the bones of the beast until it was nothing more than a fur skin rug.

“So, why am I a part of all of this?” I asked.

“Because we need someone to pass on our final message. That being we're no longer part of this world and that there is old magic that must be tamed once more. The wisps will roam wild and free without a master. You will spend a good portion of your life doing that Letter.” I looked at the old man, confused. He smiled like a father would in all his wisdom, “The wisps we have, and will have, left behind will follow you to their new possessors. Even the ones from Eidolon will find you. Every message you deliver will spring new life and talents abound.”

“And if I die?”

He gave a short laugh behind his yellowed teeth, “Only after you're retired and only then will you. Once you pass on, the world will weep in its own way.”

Somehow, it felt comforting. I've found that some folks are always anxious about the way they want to die. Some don't bother with the worry at all and others are scared of the prospect altogether. By the time the feeling passed, the Designer handed me the key. “Why are you giving me the key?”

“It can only be used by you.” He then shrunk the size of the staff and tucked it between the straps of my bags. “And this will keep you safe in times of trouble. There is a book in my chair, that will teach you how to use this and a great deal more.”

“What's going on? Aren't you comin-” then I saw why he was smiling, as if were saying goodbye. That's because he was.

“Your mother and I are required in forming the key. For the world to return to finally return to normal, we must move on.” A chill shot down my spine. His arms began to turn to a fine glowing dust that spiraled into the key. Soon the rest of his body followed suit, all the while refusing gravity's pull. He smiled with tears in his eyes, “I'm finally... free.”

I looked to my mother, who slowly approached and I backed away. “Mom, no, I can't. How will dad feel?”

She paused, “He'll... understand. You'll know why soon enough.”

“I can't do it, mom. I love you.” I choked up as I stumbled backwards. “I can't.”

“Letting go doesn't mean you'll stop loving, my dear.” She continued her approach. She captured me in her magic and held me closer to her. We embraced in one final hug before all I had left of her was the lengthy ribbon the rest of us had all sown together as a present for her. With all the colors of our coats and manes nicely tied into one another. “I love you.” Those were her final words before I sat there and sobbed for nearly an hour.

I used the staff to teleport myself back to the lab, merely by thought. Heavy hearted though I was, I trudged on. I grabbed the book from the chair the Designer had left behind. Along with some instructions that he had written, already translated, to tell me what to do with the key. A tinted glass cube covered a large slot for the glowing silver key. “Finally free...” I repeated in a whisper. “I love you.” All my memories of mom flickered through my mind as I turned the key. Something that initiated a self destruct sequence of sorts.

Every dim light burned out and the ground began to shake rather violently. I thought of the docks at Light Fringe and the staff teleported me there. And from there I watched the islands pierce the surface of the ocean. The water vehemently rejected from the shielded land masses. The guards came down from the walls to watch. When I turned it seemed like the entire city had shown up to watch the event. Crowding the walls as the three islands rose nearly level with the main city.

In the midst of the marveled crowds, I weaved my way through the guards, passing one familiar, and hid myself away in the stables. And here I am, crying out the rest of my tears before I head back to Hestan. I think I might be getting used the teleportation. I also have the feeling that this won't be the end of world changing events. Rebirth, isn't nearly as drastic as I thought it would be. It will weave its way through nature and it will take its time doing so.

For now, I recollect myself and head back. I think I'll take a look at the book when I get back to Hestan or when things calm down. I only hope that the rest of my life will be a bit less eventful. I wonder what I'll say to Celestia when I met her again. I'm sure she would like to know what has happened.

Chapter 24: Book and Staff

#164
Summer. Day 175. Evening. Clackerton.

Back home again. Used the staff to teleport home after taking the portal back to Canterlot. There, Apricot and I waited for hours to get an audience with Celestia. I told her what had happened, including the first of many things to come: the islands of Light Fringe reemerging from the depths of the ocean. Most of the designs will be reclaimed by the planet's nature in due time. A process that could take hundreds or thousands of years. I told her word for word: “Old magic will need to be tamed once more and I will become the deliverer.”

After her scribe had finished writing, she dismissed me. Wishing me luck in my future endeavors. Should we ever meet again, she would gladly set up a table for tea and listen wholeheartedly to whatever tales I have to tell. She suggested that Twilight might do the same. She is a literary nut, after all.

After being dismissed, Apricot found our way outside the city walls and gazing into the distance. Ponyville is a small place from here. Vaguely, I could make out Clackerton sitting even further away. Atop a long, meandering hillside the converged in the mountains behind it. One would need a telescope to see this place clearly from there. A might powerful one too, I imagine.

I had a slow walk home, focusing on what to say to father. Part of me wanted to run away and Apricot simply wouldn't let such a thing happen. Not to mention that it wouldn't help the situation a whole lot, either. After I got home, I sat on the couch and began writing, absentmindedly fiddling with my pendent. I waited there for even longer, it felt like, waiting and waiting. Drudging through every word I needed to say.

The door finally creeped open. A long and dreadful moan it made. I looked to the opening it created, the rays of sun light giving way to my father. He stood there with his head drooped, exhausted by his still relatively new job. He closed the door and saw me sitting there with my crippled wings. “So... I guess you being here means she's gone now?” He spoke dryly. I merely nodded. “She told me the story and what was going to happen. Hard to believe, isn't it?” I nodded again. After that, he went to take a nap from an exhausting day.

Then Busy came home. She too, was wearing a distraught face but not one that was brought on by grief. I put up a front to keep the tears away and told her the story. I wondered why mother hadn't told her while she was visiting, in whatever manner she was. I suppose it's too late ask about that now. Busy cried her heart out just as I had done. And immediately began to plan things out for a quiet funeral afterward. Something that hopefully wouldn't attract a whole lot of attention. Still, we needed a proper excuse for why she died, it's been months since the mafia incident.

Busy told me that I should worry about getting some rest and let her sort out the issue. I swear she'll work herself to death one of these days. I could say the same about father, though. I'm trying to rest but my mind is still hopelessly wandering about things I shouldn't concern myself with. I've been finding myself drawn to that thin book the Designer gave to me. Should I open it or leave it be?

#165
Summer. Day 176. Afternoon. Clackerton.

The Designer's book is an amazing thing. He had mapped out the world, the stars, galaxies, and beyond. Knowledge that far surpassed any of our own. All of his notes about this world and inhabitants were stored in this thing. I say thing because, well, upon opening it, I'm greeted with a screen and merely with a touch it explodes into several hundred screens. At some points they were as abundant as the stars in the sky. I rifled through and glanced over the texts he had written, in both his own script and and option to convert it into several other languages I couldn't begin to comprehend.

I felt so overjoyed until I came across the millions of images he had stored. A visual and annotated history of his kind, all the way up to the date he exterminated them. He mourned the fact at the time and from some later notes I found, he never quite shrugged off his 'sin'. In his extermination, he had killed everyone he had ever known. I saw the images of when he was younger, with family and friends. Moments that were eternalize through photographs and artwork. There was even a picture of his degree. Doctorates of Astrophysics and Biology, it read. A smart man, driven mad, I think.

I flipped through the screens some more until I found the staff. It was the last piece of research he had written. It seemed that only after he began researching about Rebirth was he able to craft it. After digging through hundreds of old notes, he was able to form the connection just before my mother had arrived at his place. In making the staff, he used ancient methods of enchanting stones and infusion techniques. A process that required the right stones, a small bit of blood from its creator(s), and the proper wood. In this case, he used part of the Golden Tree from Light Fringe, square cut stones the deviated from the same parent and as I mentioned before, his own blood. There's one more note at the bottom, however. In order to enchant it properly, he needed mother and she poured all of what she could into it.

The connection between thought and magic was unexplained, however. A missing link is there. Sure a unicorn could cast magic at will, but when it comes to an enchanted item. What connects the mind to the object. Physically touching the item, speech, or something else? Even the Designer failed to fully understand the concept despite his kind having similar technology. However, it seems that that required something implanted on the brain or an item to be worn around the hands and/or head. What his kind had, I wonder what will happen when others get a hold of it?

I closed down the screen, my eyes had begun to ache staring at the screens for a bit too long. If I'm not too busy for the next week or so, I'll head into Ponyville and help her start getting all this on paper. I have no idea how long this thing can stay and the fact that it's the only one of its kind. However, it does pose the question, should we record such information and distribute it? As it is now, it's harmless, but in the future, it might create such a strong divide among everyone that it'll cause nothing more than problems. It's part of our history too, however. Another question, if we ever venture out there, beyond our own solar system, can we get back?

There are far more questions than that, I imagine. It's really something I don't want to bother with. I'm honestly tired of thinking about the effects of what have occurred there. Maybe I'm just tired and just need some rest. Mind is awfully jumbled at the moment.

#165
Summer. Day 176. Afternoon. Clackerton.

Well, as luck would have it, Busy gave me two weeks for me to rest and adjust. It's needed but I'm afraid I'll still be rather busy. I've been rifling through thousands of more documents. The Designer was not a pleasant man when he was angered or when he had to directly intervene. To name a few points, he summoned a massive storm to hold off the invasion of a kingdom, destroyed an entire army of upwards of a million troops and wiping out a mountain range in the process, and the last one involved a powerful battle between him and thirty dragons that lasted many sleepless days.

His fights were absurd. Astounding that the man hadn't been killed long before I met him. Even more interesting was the fact the incidents were always linked to natural disasters instead of his own hands. To cover up his marks, he went so far as to reshape the landscape itself. Something that spewed legends about mystical changing lands that never held a singular shape. Even the clouds seemed to be scared of him.

Every one of these incidents he took great care in documenting very carefully. Some of the writings even matched the history books of today. Meaning that some knowledge has, in a way, already been passed on. I wonder however, who he would've passed that knowledge down to. There are literally millions of possibilities.

Tomorrow I plan on going into Ponyville and discussing these matters over with Twilight. Knowing her, she might have a few good suggestions on what we can do about this. My first thought is not to tell any one at all, keep it secret. Therein lies a problem, however. Secrets can leak and thus create doubt. Which in turn can have even greater and far more drastic effects than intended.

Another thought on my mind is that this staff does not feel like something the Designer would have created with his own hands. It's too... earthen, or familiar. It constantly draws my attention in doing so as well. Rather annoying honestly.

On a different note, Busy says the funeral will be held in a few days time. I'm glad of that, I'm not sure why.

#166
Summer. Day 177. Evening. Ponyville.

I headed over to Twilight's library to find something rather unusual, her not being there. I brought with me the staff and the book. Inside I found a note on the table, written to Spike. Telling him that she would be back soon as she was venturing with another potential suitor for marriage. Not really all that surprising. She can't really keep her nose in books while her friends are off living their dreams. I wonder why she hasn't found one that has suited her yet. Surely she should have found some one to her liking. If it keeps up, she'll wind up with a few unpleasant rumors surrounding her.

In the mean time, I stopped by Rarity's boutique, held idle conversation until I brought up the ending to my story and the two things I brought back. She told me that Twilight would love to mull over that information. She would adore the staff greatly and the book, more so. An awkward silence fell upon us then. I'm not sure why I'm so open with her as I don't feel the same toward her as I do toward Apricot. It's oddly comforting, really.

To my surprise, I ran into Pinkie Pie on my way out the door, who was carrying a bunch of gemstones filling a bucket she held atop her head and on her back was Spike. We exchanged quick greetings as we passed by one another. I left the boutique to the sound of shrilled happiness. Rarity obviously overjoyed that her friends found what she needed. Not sure why I didn't ask Spike how long Twilight would be out for.

Regardless, I wandered around the town for a few hours, well past nightfall and found myself taking to the local inn. When I dropped my bags off in my assigned room, I heard a muffled yelling from the next room over. Two voices arguing incoherently, a sound that was drowned out by my own thoughts and the low hum of the book's screens scattered about my head once more.

I looked over the information that the Designer had on the thirty dragons he battled either to the death or forced them to surrender. Many were much of the same: green scaled fire breathers hoarding troves of treasures, meaner than bulls, and tough as nails. The ones he took greater notes of were far more deadly. One spewed poison gas, another breathed icy cold fire, and others took to disguising themselves as large precious stones. They all varied in size too, the largest he managed to seal away at the bottom of an ocean.

Then I came across a video of his last hunt, was actually far more recent, around the same time I was born. I pressed my hoof to the screen, hitting the play button. Sound kicked in and the video enlarged and the rocky cliffside pictured began to move. With great strides he advanced, his cane supporting him the entirety of the way. Upon the mouth of a large cave he paused, his breath heavy. He roared something in a foreign tongue and out peered the head of a dragon. A dragon with all to similar characteristics. Light purple, bright green fins, green eyes. Large and slender but without wings. Green smoke puffed from the dragon's nose.

There was, much to my surprise, no great battle that ensued. Instead, the dragon brought its stomach into view, revealing a massive wound inflicted by another source. He looked over the wound, feeling every part of the gash, which revealed its fair share of guts, and sighed. He spoke again to the dragon, as if it were his friend instead of calling it out. Put his hand to the place between the nostrils and appeared to tell it its fate. In a whisper, the dragon said something and the Designer reacted with a worried but assuring tone.

The video forwarded through a mass of jungle until he reached an empty bog. He encroached upon the territory of a grand white dragon with gold horns and a set of six golden eyes. Four wings and a tail barbed with spikes to the end. The sky was clouded with gray smoke and the dragon exhaled more of it with every step. The video shook with each, the Designer held still, unwavering. Again he roared in what I can safely assume, is the dragon's tongue. Vengeance and justice. In an instant the dragon fired a bolt of yellow fire from its mouth and followed with a swipe of a claw. The Designer blocked both with a shield, merely raising his cane. He mocked the dragon, then, his old voice rich with humored sarcasm.

The dragon, enraged, roared and brought lightning down from the sky with a stomp of a foot. The bolt dissipated, rendered useless by the Designer's shield. The man coughed and raised his free hand and muttered a few words. The earth rose up, shifting into massive, winding tendrils leaking masses of loose dirt and stone. The dragon tried taking flight but was quickly ensnared and forced to the ground with a devastating crash. Kicking up all manner of dirt and water. The dragon breathed out his smoke, creating a veil. The man reached out, grabbed at it and whipped it away. The smoke cleared and fear was quickly sinking into the dragon's body.

The Designer approached the dragon's nose, its muzzle kept closed by the earthen tendrils. He spoke again in an intimidating manner. He reached out and touched it with a finger. Nearly in an instant, life fluttered away from its eyes and its body collapsed upon itself. What was left was a mangled mass of bone, muscle, and blood the size of a volleyball. The tendrils fell to the ground and the Designer snapped his fingers, setting the mass of flesh aflame until it turned to blackened ash. Beneath that, a spine from its tail. Gold in color and lightly stained from the fire. As if he had spared it to it back to the other dragon as proof.

When he went back up the mountain and to the cave, he was greeted once more by the quickly aging purple dragon. He showed her the spine and she smiled rather weakly and gave him an egg. Purple with darker spots. He stayed and chatted with the dragon about all manner of things until the dragon passed on. I wonder why he didn't use any sort of healing spells to heal her. Perhaps the damage was too great and such a spell would likely cause the same spell I went through.

Regardless, the video forwarded to where he got to Canterlot Castle. He looked down from the mountain''s peak, the dragon's egg carried under one arm. He teleported into the throne room, where Celestia sat without the presence of her guards. He sat the egg down on some hay he summoned before politely bowing to her and standing straight once more. “Celestia,” he croaked out, as if the fire from before had burned his throat. “This egg shall be hatched by your future student, Twilight Sparkle.” my eyes widened.

“The same Twilight Sparkle I am currently looking to take under my wing?”

“Yes. Don't worry about the 'what ifs'. She will succeed once the time comes. This egg shall be a test for her. At that time she will earn her cutie mark. I have already buried the baby's mother.”

She mused the thought with a hum. “Very well. What will you do now? Since your friend has been slain?”

He nodded. “Wait. That's all I have left to do before I finally fade away.”

“At least have one last cup of tea then.”

Even though I couldn't see him smile, I could feel him do it. “That would be lovely, Celly.”

After much small talk I skipped through, I found the end of it along with the final question. “Say, you've never told me your name.”

He had his back to her, relying on his cane once more. He stopped and turned his head, “It's been so long, I can hardly remember.” In a small, muffled coughing fit, he continued, “Perhaps someone else will find out for you.” He smiled and walked away, slowly teleporting back to the dark and lifeless labs he called home. “Indeed they will.” he whispered.

I flicked off the book then, letting my mind take in this new information. Now I have to tell Twilight. It would be better than leaving Spike without an answer to a question he may never ask. The argument next door is still going, influenced by more anger and tears than before. I may just have to go over there myself and tell them to shut up. A familiarity with part of a word struck my ears and my has been perked. I can't have any more of this.

Chapter 25: Bindings

#167
Summer. Day 178. Evening. Ponyville.

I balanced the staff on the base of a wing and knocked on the door. I was greeted by a stallion in a tattered suit, ruffled hair, and a enraged expression splashed across his face. “What?” he barked.

“I would appreciate it if you and your friend would keep your voices down, I'm trying to read.”

“Tch!” he spat, “You sound just like her!”

Upon some further inspection, I saw he was a unicorn and was casting a spell. The way it fluctuated indicated that it was a holding spell. Tilting my head, “And who is she?”

“A stupid bitch of a princess who-” I fired a bolt of ice, pinning him to the opposite wall. Almost like a spider web. “ The fuck!?” he roared. “You're not a unicorn, how can you-”

“Because I read and from that, I've learned.” I cut him off as I entered the room. I looked to the bed, blankets thrashed about and the sheets thrown to the floors. The pillows inexplicably absent from the dark purple head board. On the bed, a shape of a familiar mare. Cut and bruised, bleeding and crying. My heart dropped a moment, “...Twilight.” Then I became infuriated. My eyes burned with righteous fire. I turned the unicorn “You will not live to see the sunrise, you poor fool.”

“Really? I am the Second Prince of Trottingham. Killing me is an act of war!”

“Shut your trap!” I roared back. “No prince should ever treat a mare in such a manner. If killing you is an act of war, then cursing you is not.” I cast a quick spell to mute his magic. He struggled in the ice. I rummaged through his bags until I found a sigil indicating his royalty. I approached Twilight, and asked a hushed question. She nodded and grabbed at the blankets, covering herself up and shaking wildly. Forcing his mouth open, I placed tip of the staff near his tongue. “You will go home, immediately but you will be leaving with a curse. You will always tell the truth as a lie will make you deathly ill. You will vomit for days and your body will become weaker and weaker. Walking and breathing will become nearly insurmountable. No magic or potion will over come this curse and the cure non-existent.”

The end of the staff leaked a gassy green poison that seeped into the stallion mouth. He twitched and shuddered. Panic and fear in his eyes, a sight that left me feeling disturbingly satisfied. I stripped the ice from him and pulled the the staff away. The gas evaporated. “Trottingham, was it? How did you get here?”

“By zeppelin” he coughed. “Canterlot docks. My guards are out-”

“I know.” I menaced. “Now leave the kingdom, peasant.” I teleported him and his guards to the docks in a flash of light and turned my attention to Twilight. “Let's get you home.” she sniffed and coiled the blanket around her, cloaking her face and hiding her wounds. I grabbed my books and bags and escorted her back to the library, Twilight's home.

She didn't talk much on the way, but she did ask a question. “Was that okay?”

“No. He wasn't a prince anyways. Trottingham doesn't have a second prince. Pip told me so at his wedding.”

“R-Really? How could I be such a fool?” She said as I opened the door for her. She began sobbing. “I can't believe I did-”

I put my hoof to her lips. “Shh.” I closed the door. “The sigil was a well made forgery and the fellow had robbed the rich. I sent him to a place called the Valley of Silence. He won't last long there.” I helped her up the stairs and to her bed. “Don't do anything rash and stay here. I'll be in here, by the stairway.”

I stayed awake the entire night, watching endlessly and unable to sleep. The rage boiled still and I wished I would have killed the stallion right then and there. A quick death would have been far too nice for such a crude bandit. She slept in the blood-stained blankets, tossing and turning from whatever nightmares she was having. I wondered if she was even able to sleep at all. It wasn't until she called me over that confirmed my thoughts. Strange that she would ask me to hold her hoof to help her sleep, but it worked.

In the morning, she explained the situation. She was taken off guard and teleported there. The arguing I heard was her trying to reason with him and warn him. The last part I heard was his yelling at her. He had used magic to muffle her screaming and keep her still. Rather traumatic. While she rested, I was to make sure no one else was allowed in, even Spike. Why she's putting so much trust in me I have yet to understand.

She's had me take to her books about healing spells and the like. The few that she needed required the caster to be in good health. I used the staff once more, handy thing. Got most of her wounds healed up, a few of them left some nasty scars, however. Then she turned her attention to the staff itself and asked me to fetch one of her books on Star Swirl the Bearded. I brought it back and she flipped through the pages.

“Letter, I hope you realize whose staff that is.”

“Star Swirl's, I'm guessing?” She nodded. “I got it from the Designer. He seemed to know a great deal of people, the majority of whom are legends, who've all kept him a secret. Even knew Spike's mother, apparently. “

“Really?” She asked, her eyes alight.

“It's not a pretty ending, Twilight.” She begged with her eyes. “Are you sure?” She nodded. I took a deep breath and opened the book, it's screens fluttering about. I quickly typed in a search term and found the video.

“How can you read all of this?”

“I translated a bunch of text books my mother wrote in an ancient language. It's become second nature, I guess. Haven't I given you my notes on it?”

“You may have. There's a chance I haven't looked them over as I've been rather busy in the past year.”

I gave her a quick smirk and played the video. There were smaller things I noticed that I hadn't seen before but they weren't really worth much note. Twilight watched most of the video in awe. Cringed at the part where the Designer literally compressed the massive dragon after overpowering it. He made it seem so easy. 8000 years of experience does have its pay offs, I suppose.

After the video ended, Twilight was in visible shock. “How did he know?”

“His tapping into the magic stream of the planet itself allowed him to see into the future at will. It also made him immortal, in a sense. It's rather convoluted and I'm still going through all of his research. Should I look up Star Swirl?”

“Yes, please.”

Searching through until I found some proper notes and another related video, I told her I hadn't watched this one yet. Star Swirl simply hasn't crossed my mind. We watched that one together and found that Star Swirl, though not immortal, grew well past 130 years of age. He had met the Designer while venturing into the Caverns of Howling Wind. A place made of an unmoving mass of clouds that were as dark as night, lit vaguely by the sun. The clouds meandered over a large basin and was a tangled mass from awkward winds. The Designer went there to find a stone and was apparently waiting for Star Swirl to show up.

Their meeting was pleasant and without fuss. Neither one surprised to see the other, as if they had already met before. They greeted each other with familiar hellos and a shake of hand and hoof. The Designer didn't have the staff, obviously. The two of them found the stone together and upon pulling it from its pedestal, another one replaced it. Only smaller and less refined, presumably growing much like a tree. Twilight watched again in awe, as the two began to shape the stone into something for the staff Star Swirl had brought with him. Upon completion, the staff had engulfed part of the stone, set it like a jeweled ring or crown.

The process was familiar, I had gone over it earlier and these two had replicated it perfectly. It is a bit of a shame the blood must be drawn for such a process to work. Unfortunately, I haven't seen a way in his notes to make it work without. Still, why the blood of two parties were needed is a bit confounding and something that I still need to look into.

After the successful binding of the stone, the two of them exchanged some words and the video skipped a beat. It resumed with the Designer lingering by Star Swirl in the middle of a forest. They spoke some scrambled audio to one another. Star Swirl had a young filly standing behind him. Old enough to walk on its own but not quite old enough to remember anything. With some reluctance, Star Swirl gave him the staff and the child, who wound up under the care of some fortunate parents. Even with the notes provided, it's unclear why Star Swirl had the child with him.

I turned to see a tear glimmer from Twilight's eye. “That's my great grandmother...” She said. I paused the video and zoomed through a couple pages of notes, finding all of the information on her grandmother and revealing another fact, that she too was mine. We gave each other a few awkward glances and laughed. “No wonder you're so extraordinary, Letter.”

“I could say the same about you.” I fired back. It's strange I never really looked into this. Even when I asked my father about older relatives, he would say that his mother was separated by hers at birth. I looked through the tree and saw each of the notes on them that the Designer had left behind. Each one had them separated either at birth or just our of bad luck alone. Nothing he planned from the looks of things. “Just keep in mind that the only thing this will omit is the possibility of dating.”

“Of course. Besides, I'd rather have a husband that would stay at home...” She trailed off. The mood darkened.”

“Twilight, there's more to the story, isn't there?” She started to bawl her eyes out. “Did that stallion actually... rape you?” She shook her head and turned her head, her sniffling loud and choked. “You have to say something, Twilight.” Sudden flashes of what seemed like memories burn through my eyes. Vague shadows of movement. I blinked them away and continued, “It's okay to be scared. We're here for you.”

She turned back to me and hugged me in the tightest grip I had ever experienced. She could have broken a few bones if she squeezed any tighter. After she stopped, she spoke up in a dry voice. “He did rape me, but only with foreign objects. It was terrifying knowing that a stallion could get pleasure committing something that heinous. Discord always said that the world isn't always flowers and butterflies. Now I see why.” She looked to the floor and sighed. “I feel so... awful.”

“It's not your fault.” The vision became clearer. The shadows morphed into more solid shapes. Another series of memories flowed: marriage, children, a kingdom under her rule. “You'll marry and though you'll remember it forever, you'll remember you're happier. The recovery process will take time, years even.”

She pulled away a bit, “You sound like a fortune teller.”

I smiled, “Maybe I am.” I saw another flash of the throne room, one vastly unfamiliar to me. I stood before her, as a messenger. I lightly shook my head, “Letters and scrolls aren't the only thing a courier delivers.”

Chapter 26: Echoes

#593
Summer. Year 3 | Day 1. Evening. Neighagra Falls .

Over the last two years, I've written in a various amount of journals I've kept in the shelves of my room. Away from the sun to keep them from bleaching. It has also been some time since my last journal entry and here, on the third year of writing in these blasted things, I finally married Apricot. We've taken to the home that Idol had provided through his will and thankfully, the place hadn't fallen apart on its own. It has been a grand day and everything has gone great.

My job, despite finally having my wings amputated down to nubby stumps, has increased in it popularity. My sister only offers me traditional routes through Clackerton and far more dangerous deliveries. Sometimes I feel guilty that I'm might be getting off easy. She says it's due to my current state of body. I bring the staff with me for those longer deliveries and use Yukon, my eagle who's grown as big as a small house, as a form of transportation. It's more than made up for my lack of taking care of him when we met. Sometimes I think he has my uncle's personality, quiet and quirky. Apricot always worries about both of us.

In other news, Twilight has finally found a proper suitor. I'm going to her castle tomorrow as part of a dinner. It's an approval thing of sorts. Funny that she would find this guy stumbling about Ponyville, dazed and lively. Pretty charming too from what I hear. On a related note, the rape that she had gone through a few years ago, she has almost completely recovered from. She most assuredly won't forget about the incident, I don't think anyone would be able to. She'll likely get flashbacks too, like I do with that. Celestia, Applejack, and I are the only ones she's spoke to about it. When the times come, her other close friends will know. Her family too, of course.

If memory serves me correctly, the stallion and his lackeys were arrested and jailed for other crimes as soon as they were found. Not hard to spot a flash of bright magic in the middle of the night in a rather well guarded area. The case itself was kept relatively quiet and wrapped up rather easily. The curse I put on the unfortunate ass helped spill a lot of his crimes. Anyways, he was put to life in prison and his guards were given the same.

As for our bloodline, Twilight and I decided to keep it a secret, it's unlikely that anyone would find out as it is anyways. While my side had some bad luck, hers had better. Pretty reminiscent of some stories where a beggar is related to the prince of a kingdom. Those tend to teach some strong morals but I won't be diving into that here. Those books can be checked out from a library or heard from others around a fire.

In more recent events, Apricot actually proposed to me. Quite opposite of the usual scenario. Said I was a bit too oblivious to her hints. I feel bad for letting her do that but my busy delivery schedules made it hard to find time for the both of us. Whenever I had time, she seemed to have to go to shows for jewel crafting and how they can be used in fashion. She's made a good living off of it and I'm glad she does. However, one of us will have to stop leaving the house so much if and when we have children of our own.

Father and Busy have been running Clackerton pretty well. They've hired trustworthy individuals that extremely positive track records and recommendations from Celestia and other nobles. It took about a year but it was worth the effort. Clackerton has been fully restored and expanded too. The old house that Dream used to live in was turned into a museum of sorts. It's partly a library due to the study that she had there and the books and chairs are the only things visitors can really touch.

Other than that, I'm still prone to seeing some rather odd things. Almost like I'm able to predict the future or see the memories of others. It's rather irritating and I haven't figured out what keeps triggering them. Relatedly, I can still see the wisps floating around every now and then. The Designer was right about those, every one of them that I've seen have follow me to their recipient. Often the people I delivered something to or someone that I met along the way. It feels good but also kind of strange that these wisps would piggyback on me to get where they need to go.

I only recently started reading into them again. The notes that the designer left behind on them grasped their existence rather loosely at first. As time went on however, he began to see them more clearly. He realized that magic could not exist within the dead, thus it seeped out and dug through the earth. When he became confounded on where it went, he followed the wisps down into what he calls a mantel. A place filled with igneous and molten stone, practically magma. There he remarked a stream of magic that was as intricate as a nervous system, or the roots of a great tree.

Upon further research he learned that the stream flowed up into the higher parts of the atmosphere, largely undetected by the planet's inhabitants. Only a handful of civilizations had residents that could see the streams and the way they worked. Often times, those folks were usually in places of power. War chiefs, great mages, kings, queens, seers, and priests. Every now and then it was an enchanter, dancer, or bard. They often became legends as a result. He theorized that the power among stream-seers, he called them, would slowly dwindle as time went on. He was right about that, noting that the only ones who still could see the wisps and the streams were immortal or those who found a way to tap into the stream.

He found it a remarkable subject but once he found the answers to all of the questions he sought, he went on to researching something else. It seems that even after he had killed off his entire race, he still had work to do. Reminded me of the saying, “A stallion's work is never done.”

Chapter 27: Their Reason

#752
Winter. Year 3 | Day 100. Evening. Changeling Territory.

A recent delivery has gone terribly wrong. My sister had sent me a Level 5 job, which meant that it presented the highest danger, and it has. It started off well, heading northeast of Manehatten and going over the gulf, where on the other side I was to meet with the recipient. Yukon and I flew over the gulf, made it to the other side and we were requested by the recipient to take the place of their courier to deliver another message to the capital.

As it turns out, the entire thing was a trap. I had caught the attention of Queen Chrysalis. When I headed off to their 'capital', too late did I discover that truth. They set up the trap to separate me from my staff and Yukon. They tied us up and placed us in these awful smelling cells that looked like blackened mud, like pitch or tar. Chrysalis took the staff for her own but couldn't figure out how to work the thing. From what notes I can recall, it'd only work with those who had a blood connection and the catch was that it had to be in range of the owner to work.

It was funny that her soldiers didn't strip of my belongings. So I rifled through the Designer's notes again about these Changelings, pony shape in nature but with insect-like features. He studied them for a time, after being alarmed at the rate their hive was spreading when they first came around. He discovered their origins first, rough stories about a mage whose magic became corrupted after some event that caused the town of origin to become infested with this sludge-like substance. After some mixing with local wild life, it caused everything living to mutate into something stranger and darker.

The Designer had to ward off many of the creatures and found it hard to find a place to hide. He discovered that the pony folk too were being transformed. The sick and the dead were placed into chrysalis, green shells filled with thick green fluids. Like the eggs of many insects, they were placed in bunches or grooves in seemingly random places. Even though the ponies that were healthy were doing all this, it was only a matter of time before they were converted. None of them rebelled against the changes. Suddenly they were like bees or ants building a home.

He was right about that and as time went on, the hive grew larger. Eventually he found that the changelings fed off love and that the magic that went wrong was a spell of love. As a result, the hive now hunted for beings that had knew love well and that could come from a variety of different creatures. Especially the ones that they kept locked up for multiple uses. The hive members knew that love was a nearly inexhaustible resource for them and rationing it out was a better plan than consuming it all at once. Eventually they learned how to disguise themselves to take on the likeness of normal ponies. He found out who the leader was too, Queen Chrysalis.

By her physical traits, she matched the appearance of the former princess that lived in the town there. Once everything a princess typically was, is now a blackened husk of her former self. Hair like seaweed and a hard shell of a body with aqua colored insect-like wings. Unlike her followers, she knew language and how to speak, she also knew how to use the most basic of magics. As I was going over this bit of notes, she approached my cell. "What is this?"

"An ancient book, using magic to store information instead of ink and paper." I answered politely.

"Interesting..." she hissed. "I trapped you here because I thought I could use this staff, apparently it's got that old catch of only being used by its creator. Or in your case, someone of the same blood line."

Intrigued and somewhat confused, I asked, "How... do you know about that kind of magic."

"Because I used to dabble in it. The mage that I had as part of my castle staff was the one who caused all this in the first place. You know a bit of the results already, I assume?" She eyed me graciously. I nodded. "Good, I won't have to explain it then. Truth is, Letter, is that I've been looking for a way to reverse the process but nothing I have ever found has worked. After my attempt at Canterlot,I began to look elsewhere. And what a better place to start than at the source."

"So you've been spending maybe thousands of years trying to find this information?"

"Thousands? Nay, only a few hundred and they have been long and dreadful. Commanding an army of mindless and speechless drones,, while it does have its benefits, can get incredibly boring." she groaned. After a stamp of her pocked hoof and releasing Yukon and I from the cell. "Could you help me? I have a feeling that you might knew a thing or two about magic, even if you once were a pegasus."

"If I help you, then what, you let me go home?"

"Yes. I don't need more minions to my collection. A queen has her limits, Letter. If you try escaping then I'll simply kill you and your bird and suck the love out of each of you."

"And if there isn't a way to reverse it?"

"I have something else in mind." she hissed.

It was several days at the castle of hers. Surprisingly, most of it was still in its original shape aside from the occasional creeping black goop on the walls that turned them into mounds. Hiding the flooring entirely. I spent most of the time in the library, where the spell was initially performed. Marking off the drastic similarities between her kingdom's writing and the Designer's system. There were a few differences, but they're few and far between and relatively easy to translate. Wound up with hundreds of sheets of paper filled with random notes by the end of each day. I then focused on the spell itself and its original intention.

It was originally casted to help boost the love between Chrysalis and her beloved prince at the time. Who unfortunately passed away at the time due to an ambush on his caravan. It was that that triggered the backfire of the spell. Both parties had to be alive and she didn't know it at the time. Her mage was the first to succumb to the disease. Panic set in for a lot of folks and threw the kingdom into chaos and none of them ever escaped. Doubtful that any of them remember their pasts now. As always, there was very little information on what to do when spells backfired like this, especially on such a large scale.

I gave it some more time and looked through the Designer's notes again. He had been working on a solution to the problem as well. However, nothing was conclusive enough and the creeping blackness would always come back. Like a battle between life and death, neither side would ever be completely satisfied. I drew out some of the magic work on stiff papers a cleared an area of floor.

After receiving my staff from the queen I asked her to change into her original form. She did so and after shaking the thoughts of her beauty from my mind and subsequently reminding myself I was already married and was not willing to break an old promise, I tapped the floor with the staff. Where there it stood straight and upright, refusing gravity. The circles and magic glowed a light blue and a faint humming came about. Inciting a few words and throwing in the dust of some moonstone, the glow became brighter, and the hum louder.

I stayed outside the circle and watched the green magic that was a trademark of changelings. A green ring of magic that would course along the body, changing the physical appearance from the insect-like form to their desired disguise. The ring that Chrysalis had was forced to the floor and constantly tried to reclaim her. The magic I had sown began fighting with it on its own. Eventually my side of it lost, even after I had tried strengthening it. Chrysalis fell to the floor when the darker magic reclaimed her. Put in shock and I had to sacrifice what love I had. It's rather draining actually and it leaves a bit of hole in your heart that feels like it'll turn into a massive pit.

She gave me a day to rest and with it I felt back to my old self. I reviewed and revised the magic again and figured out a way to create predictions with the Designer's notebook. He put a lot of effort into this damned thing, that man. After creating nearly a hundred failed scenarios with the tiniest of differences and all of them ending in failure, I was nearly ready to give up. Even working with blood and black magic, the results were fruitless. Chrysalis was rather upset at the news, I was too. She only wanted things to return to normal after all. I asked her what her other idea was.

“You take this crystal, wear it as an accessory of some sort, it will drain a little bit of love from you every day as long as you're wearing it. It won't do anything once it's off. I can see the love emanate from you and it flows like an ocean. I wonder how such a pony like you is capable of such a feat. Perhaps the world has a love for you.”

“Perhaps.” I looked over the crystal, clearest quartz I had ever seen. It glowed a faint green from her enchantment. “How often should I come back here?”

“Once a year should be good enough. In the meantime, I will look for the cure.”

“If I don't keep my end of the deal?”

“Then I will drain all of your love and you just might become my slave.”

I took her words to heart as I left her empire, a mass of gray matter speckled green. I marked the date in the Designer's notebook and now I've prepared to leave for home. I left her what notes I could, perhaps she could find the answer where I could not. I'll continue to search for it however. The queen isn't as evil as Canterlot history has made her out to be but perhaps the dark magics have given her to greed.

Chapter 28: Through the Ages

#1,364
Spring. Year 4 | Day 156. Late Afternoon. Neighagra Falls.

After several nights of rousing and rather intimate love, Apricot and I managed to become expecting parents. She was overjoyed and told everyone she knew. I begged her to at least wait a bit before saying anything, but she didn't listen. The doctors are telling us to expect a single child in about two to three months. I'm anxious really, happy for it and worried that it might cause a few problems with my job. Twilight personally congratulated me on, happy as can be.

Her and her husband have discussed the rape that she had experienced nearly four years ago now. Along with her monthly therapy sessions, she got better but she's still a bit easily frightened when someone's holding a bottle. She still gets awful flashbacks and her husband has always comforted her when the time came. Even stood let her beat him up once to see how angry she was getting because of it. While it is saddening, its good to know that he's going to always be there for her. Just as I will be for Apricot.

While Twilight was over and talking things over with Apricot, I took off to Clackerton. She hadn't brought her husband after all and I didn't feel like being a third wheel then. I checked up on my father, whose progressively aging joints prevented him from ever doing construction work again. His former co-workers had to tell him, and assure him, that he shouldn't relieve himself of such manual labor and stick to his desk position as mayor. A position that he has held with protest ever since the bombings.

He enjoyed it, to say the least. Loved taking daily strolls through the town and to my mother's grave. A grand statue of her image, sleeping on a couch like she always did. Below it the tombstone and a plaque striped with honeycombs and a short epitaph of her birth date and passing date. Both dates were inaccurate of course, as we knew how long she had truly lived. It was a matter of avoiding questions, really. Eventually that too will change once my notes pass on to my own descendents. Even then, it may be left alone, just for memory's sake.

Busy was around then too. As usual, she took her post at the mailing office, sorting through thousands of letters. The office life has taken a few years off her, she was a bit less cheery now and never really saw dating as an option. I didn't lecture her about it even with our talks about love and my marriage. She congratulated me on becoming a parent and asked if she should start planning for it. I told her that I already had someone for the job. When we were done talking that day, I told her that she should take a little time off for herself. She spent too much time in that office and I would hate to see her live there.

I went to Ponyville and gave Pinkie Pie a visit. Let her know the situation and asked her to plan a baby shower of sorts. While mildly embarrassing, I'm glad we got something worked out for it. I gave the other four my greetings, finding them where I could. I talked with Fluttershy the most, honestly. I guess I felt more comfortable in her presence than I do the others. Rainbow Dash was upset that my wings were crippled, more so after she found out about the amputation. She moonlighted as a writer and a personal trainer during the day. Rarity''s still a fashion designer and Applejack still runs the orchard. I have a feeling it'll be some time before something big happens.

Aside from times of peace, my mind still feels a bit drained after visiting Chrysalis. Drained all the love the crystal held. She assured me that I would be fine after a week or so. As for her cure, it seems that there is no spell that can undo her changes, only prolong the effects. Constantly remaining in normal forms requires energy and would prove rather fruitless in the long run of things. Then I had an idea, Princess Cadence of the Crystal Empire. Her element was love, but the queen refuted that suggestion. I still contain far more than what she ever did. She added that the elements aren't always the strongest source of what they represent. I can see why she says that now. I wonder how she can tell.

It was after my visiting her that I remembered Ginger. I hadn't visited her in the last year or so. I decided to pay her one and see how she and our child was doing. She had twins, named the girl Cinnamon and the boy Paprika. Both of them kept her last name of Snow and retained a lot of her looks too. The only major difference were their eyes and the way their manes shaped around their heads. They were straighter and far easier to take care of than Ginger's curly mane. One could question the legitimacy of them being her offspring. Other than that. They were growing up rather well and quickly.

Cinnamon has taken to dresses and roughhousing while Paprika remains undressed and well-mannered. They were opposites, really and they competed in trying to be in each others shoes. It was fun to hear the stories from Ginger. She seemed to be handling them okay on her own. Dagressa helps out with them as well, acting as a nanny for whenever Ginger has to leave for awhile. King Ginseng still holds his seat on the throne of course, remarried now too. He's still bitter about his son and his greed, however.

#1,402
Fall. Year 5 | Day 18. Evening. Neighagra Falls.

My son was born just a few days after I got back from another delivery to Light Fringe. Celestia keeps sending me there to ensure the alliance and the people are well. She's been wanting to turn our postal system into something a little bit more international. More so than what it already has been. No world wide system for postal carriers has really been established and with my reputation, it has created the opportunity and presented the risks for what a lot of folk would consider an easy job.

I'm meandering here, I should be talking about my son. Apricot and I have named him Ilfracombe, after the type of bees that my mother often used for her farms. Has a white tail and a two-tone yellow mane. His coat is an ashy white, a little darker than my own. Got some red-orange freckling along his back from his mother though. An earth pony as well but smaller than average. I can already tell he'll be a wonderful son. Apricot added a small picture of him to the pendent I still carry around. I look at it on my longer journeys.

She hopes to have a daughter next, but I told her we should at least wait a bit until we start trying again. Our sexual endeavors can get quite tiring. I won't go into much more than that. I feel it should be between the two of us alone. Twilight always tries to pry a little bit of information out of the two of us about what kind of stuff we may have done. I caution her not to, we've had nothing but draws with our magic duels over it. And those have gotten pretty crazy. We treat them more like sword fights however, so we don't destroy everything around us.

While they're fun, they can be quite exhausting for the both of us. Celestia watched us once, enjoyed our hour long duel until the draw. Applauded us both and said she hadn't seen such a fine use of dueling magic in ages. It's become a habit now as the two of us go out at least once a month for it. Pipsqueak and his crew hopped in once or twice. Eventually we became a force to be reckoned with, nearly inseparable too. I just hope we'll never have to use the skills for war, absolute slaughter would be inevitable and that is something I'd rather not experience.

Just this morning as I was looking in the mirror I thought about that. Then I noticed how much I had aged over the last five years. My fiery orange eyes have dulled a bit and became more squared off. The freckles across the bridge of my noise are more pronounced and several of the scars from barreling through the castle that one day have for the most part faded away. Nearly all of my muscles have toned up, clearer than what they once were but no bigger than they used to be. The stumps where my large wings used to be refuse to move but they can be forced with a bit of effort. My mane and tail have both faded from their light orange and yellow to something the more resembled dyed mustard. The almost white coat of fur I used to have has turned to a muted light gray with a tinge of yellow.

I feel as if I'm aging far too quickly. My world suddenly felt enormous and mind numbing. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes gently. Then I went and ate breakfast.

#1,436
Winter. Year 5 | Day 79. Evening. Neighagra Falls.

After scouring through and organizing all the notes the Designer had left behind, Twilight, Sitka, and I were finally able to create a multitude of volumes ranging from the histories of specific continents to the numerous amounts of different types of magic. It wasn't simply just elements and manipulation, it was about how. Some people had stones, others had runes, some sang songs and danced, few used blood, and those who used their heads. It was rigorous but it was worth it. At the end of all of it, we finally figured out the Designer's name: Lloyd Nebo Vojin. Strange name, honestly but I'm sure there's some meaning behind it. One that at first, we thought we'd never find out.

Celestia filled us in on that, saying that his name was many things. His first contained wisdom. The second after an ancient mythological god of his, Nebo, who invented writing. And his last name meant multiple things: soldier, peacekeeper, protector. She made the connection after he had left a note the last time they saw each other. He knew that I would eventually find out.

Speaking of predictions, I haven't been seeing the visions as much as I used to, rare as they were already. I think I figured out why they appeared though and that simply had to do with looking at someone the right way and think about who they are. While that issue is partly gone, the wisps I used to be able to see are gone from my sight entirely now. I still get the feeling that they're floating about me as I go about my daily life. As it is, I was never meant to see them in the first place. It seems the only thing that won't return to normal are my wings but I've found I can get by without them.

We'll be distributing the volumes in limited quantities first. Leaving those in the Canterlot library and several magic academies.

Chapter 29: Retirement

#8,520
Fall. Year 42 | Day 4. Evening. Neighagra Falls.

Two years retired now. No more big events and nothing I haven't been able to overcome. I have a son and two daughters. Ilfracombe, Peach Bee, and Passion. Peach and Passion are almost twins in their looks. Apricot and I have gotten them mixed up a number of times. Regardless, the three of them have all grown up incredibly well. I feel Passion might have a hard time living on her own when I pass away. She's always been the closest to Apricot and I. Sweet little gal, honestly.

Ilfracombe took over my mother's bee farm, practically restarting the thing after a trusted resident, and friend, took over it. I was surprised at his enthusiasm about the subject, even with my cautions of overdoing what you love. He went on anyways, not completing ignoring my advice but keeping it well in mind. He wound up finding love in my home town too. A brilliant mare who he fell head over heels for and I believe her name was something like Aspen or something along those lines.

Peach stays at home, works at a nearby peach orchard. Passion often followed her around and helped her out. Peaches magic made collecting the ripened fruits easier and Passion had the speed to collect them all without failing in her energy. Peach has also had to look after me when my dear Apricot wasn't around. My leg injury that forced my retirement is something they've both have had to tend to. Much to my stubbornness of saying that it's fine. Passion helps with the tending too, sometimes.

Passion takes to her books in the small study I helped build for her. Though, it's more a small library now with the extra wings that have been added. The sound of the falls can be heard from there and its such a lovely pattering of water. She loved every word of those books. I had to add more because she read through all of them twice over. I'm not sure if it was due to her reading or her eyesight developing unnaturally that lead to her having to wear glasses. She hopes to become a teacher, I would love to see her become one, but I feel my time may be coming to an end soon.

I've been getting rather vivid flashbacks of everything I've done. I'd be sitting in a chair one moment, in bed the next. These flashbacks have thrown me through everything: my first fight with the school bully, my narrow escapes from crashing to the ground during the annual racing events, every letter I delivered, and every pony I first met. There were other moments too, the darker and more traumatic moments. Especially the last trip I made to Queen Chrysalis, the moment that forced my retirement.

It's still so clear, that battle from ten years ago. She had half of her kingdom defeated by a much larger force. A conglomeration of all the other beings that had turned mindless due to that ancient spell gone wrong. They had been holding them back for the longest time but something let them through. I had to convince Chrysalis that sapping me dry wouldn't be a good idea and agreed that we would both take to the front line and fight with everything we had. It was a desperate situation for her but over the years we had become something like friends, as despised as she was by Equestria.

Their numbers were surprisingly overwhelming. It was like the classic books of warfare I used to read. Two large opposing forces meeting each other on an open field, unyielding despite their lines getting pummeled by ranged attacks. These things, slaggans they called them, were often fast moving tarred hides of their former glory days. There were no eyes but there were plenty of teeth. They needed no weapons, they had claws and spat extremely corrosive acid. Melted flesh from the bone, even seeped through the shield she put up.

I spent a short amount of time prepping what spells could be repurposed to large crowds, memorized them and readied myself in a bits of blackened steel armor. Lightweight and only covered the more vital portions, allowing flexibility when I needed it. I had some time over the years before to learn some swordplay as well. Two short swords were my go to melee pieces, had them ordered from a well known blacksmith. I've had my fair share of fights with bandits and other dangerous creatures. Some saying being a soldier on the front line is difficult, being a courier could be just as rough. Especially for those who went ventured out into foreign lands.

I lead the charge of one her battalions, a far right flank. the plan was to try and disperse their forces as much as possible. Spent a number of nights digging trenches and fortifying walls. It was a type of warfare that had proved mildly successful against the slaggans simply due to their size. Just making the terrain as difficult as possible for them to traverse was the key. It seemed futile, though, as they kept advancing forward. We finished the digging well ahead of schedule and the fortifications stretched to the horizon. It seemed that was all there was at the time.

The anticipation of waiting was what got to most of the changelings, however. Several began panicking and mindlessly charged the distant woods. It took some work to get them back and calm them down. Several just broke down and committed suicide, a shame, really. The morale was fading in the Queen's troops. I had to start off the attack unyielding and strong. Kill without worry, these slaggans are already dead, in a sense. I tried to boost morale by being friendly and helping out the weaker few.

Then a battered scout came back, barely able to stand. Running off instincts alone. Died after giving me the report. I sent a message to Chrysalis and prepared all hooves. Organized them in our planned fashion. Stick to the sandbags, trigger the traps and fire. The things couldn't anticipate an ambush, after all. The ambushes were successful, pinned them all and I fired off all the magic circle, or runes, I had painstakingly set up. Simply set them aflame and left their ashes lie there. The runes wore out, we took to a charge.

Standing atop a boulder, The changelings poured out like ants to defend their hive. I rained down lightning and fire from a distance. Turned the earth into massive spikes that ripped through hundreds of slaggans at a time. I felt all powerful, but the changeling line was slowly receding. There was simply too many. They came through the distant dead forest like a swarm of locusts. I formed the earth into giant walls to form multiple, enormous funnels after a small retreat. Split them accordingly and continued to press on.

I wasn't until I saw a change in the slaggan army that I joined the frontline. I had spotted an ominous mountainous figure looming over the edge of the horizon. The slaggans pushed to the center of the battlefield, where Chrysalis's main force was. I knew what they were intending as I reformed my lines a gave chase after realizing that they weren't fighting back. I kept the troops running after them at a steady pace as I used fire and lightning to pick of hundreds of slaggans who refused to acknowledge us. We kept at it while I made momentary glances at the horizon past the trees.

My lines merged into Chrysalis's right wing of troops and continued fighting. I found my way to the Queen and told her what was probably going to happen next: A large beast we're not going bring down with the army alone, it's heading this way and bringing far more troops with it. I wiped out well over a thousand slaggans before it finally showed up. A mountain crawling along on crab-like legs, crushing a dozen trees at a time. From it's top it spewed black smoke from contained lava. Our forces were already wearing thin but every changeling managed fifty to a hundred of kills before keeling over. Either crushed or torn apart. I summoned wall after wall of fire to keep them back but they just would not stop.

Then they began to ignore us completely and retreated back towards the forests. Careless of whether or not they go crushed by the gigantic house-crushing legs of tar covered stone. Bled the stuff at every crack. I called for the Queen's troops to retreat to minimize casualties. She followed her troops to the final line of defense. I took to using a spell to slow down the monstrous thing, retreat to our main front and forced the trenches into giant craters in hopes of slower it down further.

Within moments it was hovering over me and upon looking up, I saw the numerous hive columns that these creatures came from. Then I felt the air begin to choke me through and the ground shake. Teleporting to the final retreat point, I began to concentrate on a spell. You see, the trenches weren't just for slowing them down, I had them dug a very specific manner. The Designer's script, something I hadn't used in years, created a spell that would fire off something similar to what he had done to his own kind. Only smaller.

As the slaggan hordes rolled out of the forest at a steady pace, I placed the staff to a small line that connected it to the script. In a whisper, I repeated the words written within the trenches and soon enough, they began to glow. I felt the magic begin to course through me like an ocean, its strength focused unto a single point, burned like an inferno. In the next long minute I refused to say the last word, waited until their position was finely placed. When I chanted the final word, a fury of colorful lights tore the ground asunder and split the earth there.

In that blinding flash we could all hear the wailing cries of those beast and the groaning of the moving mountain. Heard its legs buckle and shattered. The agonizing, burning feeling passed on and sapped my energy. After the light began to fade, the battlefield became clear and flailing arms of light purged the life from the slaggans as they tried to break free. Many were caught upon a reckless and sporadic retreat. Regaining my composure, I gave the order to charge. I knew if any of them escaped, then this issue would only arise again. I broke into a run and ran down the lengthy hill, the tremor of the changelings following closely behind.

Some of the slaggans were brave enough to stay and fight the magic I had summon, as futile as it was for them. I continued casting spells and killing everything in my path until I arrived at the face of the moving mountain. The light magic had completely ensnared it like a boa and its prey. I stopped there and put my hoof to a single part of the creature's broken and dangling leg. Casting a spell of incineration, the thing slowly turned to black and gray ash. But something bursted through the ashes and lunged toward me. Within that instant, my leg was my hind leg was battered, rendered useless.

In a flurry of pain and rage I tore the creature apart with only my hooves. I remember my eyes as though they were on fire and my head smoldering. I remember that slaggan's face, the sound it made when I tore its jaw from its skull. The acidic saliva evaporating before it could even touch my hooves. Covered in its tarred skin and blood, I ripped through hundreds more. There were moments that I blacked out, screaming from the pain and then waking the next. It was when I tore the head from the last slaggan that I stopped. The contorted body twisted around itself, almost like a raisin.

The light magic that had taken countless more begun to wrap me in its coil. Its soothing glow calming me down until the anger finally passed. When awoke three days later, Chrysalis had been at the bedside for the entire time. Healing had been done by the magic I created, but it wasn't perfect. The injury my leg had sustained left a good chunk of meat gone forever. Scooped away by the slaggan that managed to catch me off-guard. I cursed the thing, if the dead could be.

It was then she announced to me that she decided to exile me from her kingdom. Her citizens were scared of me, despite being on the same side. I understood her concern and told her that she could come visit me, so long as it's in secret. To this day, Apricot still doesn't know about this. I had told everyone that the injury was from a fight with a dire bear, claws as big as my head. Told them I had defeated the thing too, left it to rot in the wild.

I'm seeing Idol's face where he's not. Mother's and the Designer's too. Even Aeron. I'm afraid that if I listen to them, I'll be letting go of everything here. I still feel like I have a few weeks left in me. Just a few, then, maybe, I'll have to let go. I can already feel the cold touch of death seeping into my bones. Rather unsettling, but I should greet it like an old friend. I've called for my son to stop by soon. I know he will soon. I also feel it's time that he and the rest learn more about my past.

To my wife, my two daughters and my magnificent son: I'm sorry I've hidden this from all of you. If you do not forgive me, I understand. I have been cursed plenty and thanked just as often.

Chapter 30: Rest

Final Entry- Ilfracombe
Fall. Year 42 | Day 89. Evening. Neighagra Falls.

I'm writing this final entry in my father's stead as he has passed away two months ago. Exactly ten years later after our grandfather did. Kind of funny how that works. My mother gave me his journals to read through after the funeral was over, felt it was for the best. I've not read them yet.

Met a lot of his friends then. Auntie Busy had sent out cards and invitations to a long list of names and more that weren't even on there. Never had I seen such a large gathering of ponies for a single stallion. They were from all over the world, rich and poor. Commoners and nobles. The royal and nameless. The funeral became more of an event of storytelling and celebrating his mere existence than mourning his death. Though we did mourn, not everyone wept. Everyone paid their respects with the utmost regards.

First there was Princess Ginger Snow and her children, Cinnamon and Paprika. Who I find out are my half siblings from a far away place known as the Hestan Kingdom. If Cinnamon wasn't a relative, I would've asked for her hoof. Met King Ginseng as well, whose body appears to decaying slowing as he moves around, almost in a shuffle. Surprising that one could live as old as him. Ginger aged beautifully, like my mother has. They look younger than they are but you can see the age and maturity in their eyes if you look hard enough. If either one of them were to angered, then so help you Celestia.

As for the journey he had traveled with Ginger, and the subsequent wing crippling he suffered afterward was hard for me to read. Unbelievable that he had been through that much and that he had learned magic so well. An ancient form of it, even. The fact that he killed the corrupt prince in the fight, broke the sound barrier, and then blasted through a turret at the castle's outermost wall. He wrote that it was Flight Gear's equipment that saved him in the end.

Another princess that showed up was Princess Twilight Sparkle. A mare that I might a couple of times already. Over dinners and small family events. Dad always explained that she was a distant relative of ours from some old grandmother we never knew the name of. So our relationship was rather questionable at times but never a big enough issue to be brought up by others. I found out during the funeral that he had actually saved her from a bandit masquerading as a prince of Trottingham. Sometime after that, they watched a video of Star Swirl The Bearded and found out that he had a child at some point and that it was their ancestor. Apparently, it's something that even Celestia wasn't aware of.

I met the King and Queen of the Light Fringe Kingdom as well. Bright couple they were, quite literally. Their fur practically gave off light but it was dim and not at all hard on the eyes. The king told me how he and a guard, helped kill an ancient beast once thought deathless. He had killed the thing with a wand that he found and with it, blasted a hole in the beast's chest. They thought it would get up and chase after them, so they fled while they could.

I stayed the longest after we buried him. Even stood there in the rain, light as it was, for more than an hour. When it let up and I was about to leave, I was approached by a lovely looking mare. A mane and tail of luscious browns with several silver streaks. Her face round and sullen and coat like a lightly roasted almond. Vaguely smelled of it too, if memory's correct. Strangely felt a sense of familiarity with her. It wasn't until she invited me to sit down on a nearby bench that I found out why.

"Your father was a great stallion of many names." she opened up. Pulling a collapsible tea set from her bag. No use of magic despite her short and crooked horn. Was it broken, I wondered.

"That's what they tell me." I cracked. "What did you know him as?"

"A mighty warrior. Strong enough to shake the very foundations of the planet itself. You know the staff he had, don't you?"

"I do."

"It belonged to an ancient being of sorts, so he told me, that it was handed down to Star Swirl the Bearded. I know you've probably already heard of him in your studies." She poured and handed me a cup, I kindly accepted. "The staff found its way into your father's hooves and I had called out to him sometime after that. Hearing rumors of his magical prowess despite being a rather disabled pegasus." she poured her own cup and sipped. "My kingdom was scared of him after that day. We fought alongside him." I listened, ears perked. “Even for someone like myself, seeing a kind and gentle stallion such as him utterly destroy thousands of enemies with hie bare hooves alone, is mind numbing.

“He had used designed the trenches to take after an ancient form of magic. His face was expressionless the entire time he chanted the spell and after the last word he spoke, light broke free from the ground and blinded us all. As soon as the light faded and formed itself into large entangling roots, as if trees had sought their revenge. It felled a monstrous slaggan then. A moving hive that had legs like a crab and was the size of a mountain.” another sip of tea. “He turned the thing into a marvelous pile of ash but a slaggan had managed to get a hold of him then.”

“His back leg?” I added. “That's why he never talked about it...”

“Correct. That turned him into a fury of unkempt rage. He tore it limb from limb, quite literally, I might add, used magic to twist it around its own bones. Like a braided cord.” I imagined a pony bending like a snake raveled around a branch. The thought made me cringe. “He tore through countless others before his rage subsided. How their acid blood and spit never touched him, I do not know. When his rage subsided, the light magic he created enwrapped him. When I approached, I could feel his anger still lingering, the fires that he left behind at every corpse felt small and insignificant. He was suddenly a large and overbearing presence.

“For several days he had to be nursed back to health. I made the decision to exile him from my kingdom then. My citizens became far too fearful of him.” She smiled. “I came to give him my thanks. The lands of my kingdom, the nature and trees and wildlife have all returned. As if his magic had purified the lands. We've no longer had to feast on love. Even I returned to normal.”

“Love? Don't changelings feed on that? And if you're the queen then... Chrysalis?”

“Indeed it is I who tried to overthrow Canterlot all those years ago. I've changed, however. Much like your father did.” She was right about that. Dad did get a bit colder as he got older. More lifeless and visibly disturbed ever since his retirement. I'll never understand why he kept it all to himself. Mother always said he used to be much more... alive. "When I heard he passed away, I had to come but given my previous reputation..." She looked to the ground and sighed.

I felt myself speak out of instinct, keeping my eyes focused on the statue that took after his younger days. Beside that, a smaller statue that took Yukon's form, the eagle that he used ride to other places. Yukon was in flight and my father stood proudly, gazing into the distance. "Maybe I could put in a good word for you. Get your banishment repealed. Pardoned, even. I mean if your kind is fine now, then maybe Celestia can pardon you." I laughed lightly, leaning back into the bench. "Unfortunately, I'm not a lawyer nor do I have any power to do so."

" I did not come for a pardon, only to pay my respects. Read through his journals. I'm sure you have more sway in it than you might think. I may have exiled him, but I never exiled you."

Weakly smiling, "That's true. But why come here and tell me about him? All I've heard all day is how much of a hero he was to everyone. Not once did they pay any mind to me. I don't understand, he never considered himself one. Just... delivered messages. A courier was all he was." I felt myself boil with rage, then in an instant, it evaporated. "That's all he was..."

"What you saw, was always him. Courier or not. I know he may not have been home that often, but I know he did his best. He told me such lovely stories about you and the rest of his family and I envied him." She glanced to the clock tower in the distance. "I must be going. Please remember that family comes first, as he did for all his years." In a snap of hot green light, she disappeared.

"I don't think I'll ever forget." I whispered aloud, glancing down at the tea set, where she had slipped a folded note. Opening it, I lightly read, almost in a mumble: "This tea set was something your father and I had shared during his visits. Please do take care of it." I laughed with a few unnoticed tears springing from my eyes. Guess she'll be the one visiting now.