#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.