#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.