#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.