#93
Winter. Day 99. Noon. Everfree Forest.

A beautiful day when I got up in Ponyville this morning. I've received a response from Celestia, telling me that she had exactly two soldiers to spare for my endeavors. They would meet me at Clackerton's front gate by tomorrow. I wondered who they were, but I also had a good guess as to who they could be: Charger and Wrecker. Celestia was most displeased with the situation I revealed to her however, it was something she could not make a big scene of something small and outside of her ruling.

I sought out Rarity after packing up a welcome back gift, and a parting gift, from Pinkie Pie. Pinkie was everpony's friend it seemed. I hope that habit doesn't get her in trouble later in life, it could have a devastating consequence. I've a feeling that she may never move out from here though. I found Rarity at her boutique, actually a bit relieved that Sweetie Belle had taken Statuesque off of her hooves for the day.

There was a reason I sought her out, to look for some earrings that would match the neckband I described to her as a reference. Fortunately, she had a few already made, but they reserved for another customer, so she'd have to craft another set. Said that I would have to wait at least two hours for her to finish it. I agreed to pay the price but she insisted that I get them for free using what I told her about Idol as a fee. I don't remember too well, but I think her eyes weren't as puffy yesterday. The only other time I saw them like this was at Idol's funeral. Perhaps she broke down again, much like I did last night.

I went over Fluttershy's in the meantime, almost had to ask for directions. A strange friend of hers had stopped by, Discord. A draconequus with an odd assortment of parts. Arm of a lion, eagle claw, buffalo leg, red dragon tail, a feathered wing and a bat wing, head of a goat, and two different ram antlers. Eyes of yellow and red and a single fang. I'm not sure if there's any one way to quickly describe the guy. Apparently came back from a vacation well past the badlands far south of here.

Discord is a trickster. I've a feeling though that his antic of changing all the plate ware to walk around on their own is only a tenth of his power. As it turned out, he had only turned good thanks to Fluttershy's kindness. A story they, in turns, told me. In all the tales I've read, there's never many that turn the villain into a good guy or the hero.

Only after the story was over, did I ask her about Yukon and give her the reference book I snagged from Twilight's library. The closest match was a golden eagle, brown with gold streaks, rough yellow for his beak and legs. The only thing that didn't match up was his current size. A golden eagle might be as tall as a pony's leg but Yukon was starting to get just as tall as my foreleg and his wing span just as short as mine used to be.

There was one other possibility of what species Yukon could be, a Haast eagle. A rare species that doesn't live in this region. They were well known on a large island where they were the top predator but thanks to that, food became an issue and the species slowly died out. Dwindled to endangered levels of population. It's odd how Yukon could've wound up all the way out here, especially at the age where he couldn't fly. I wonder if there was some magic shenanigans involved with it.

Yukon and I took our leave again, returned the book to Twilight's library and headed back to The Carousel Boutique. More time had passed than I had originally intended but jewel crafting is something that takes time to perfect well. Apricot let me know that much.

I opened the door, chiming the bell that hung just above it. It was a small little thing, its pitch high and piercing. I had Yukon wait outside so he wouldn't knock something over by accident. Rarity was excited for my temporary return much to my surprise. I didn't really know what to make of it. She gave me the earrings, gift wrapped too, and a final hug goodbye. I almost didn't want to leave thanks to her generosity. Not to mention her emotional support she'd given after Idol passed away. I thanked her for that. Though, I feel that she could use some emotional support too. I just hope she doesn't find it in the wrong place.

Once I opened the door to leave, I saw Statuesque standing on the other side, reaching for it himself with Sweetie Belle standing behind him. I lowered my head and told him that I was leaving, we hugged too. Sweetie Belle did as well, despite not knowing me very well.

I took to the sky after that, Yukon followed after me. He was pretty quick to take to the air himself. I wonder if he's practiced in the time we weren't together. We stopped in the middle of the Everfree Forest for a bit of a break. The lack of using my new wings have already made the muscles sore and left me breathless. Yukon had no problem with flying as far as we did. I hope we can get to Clackerton tonight, I'd like to get Idol's letter delivered to the mayor as soon as I can.

#94
Winter. Day 99. Late Evening. Clackerton.

I've come home to a warm welcome from my family. It seemed that I walked in as soon as dinner was being prepared. Mother was still sick on the couch though. A shame, really as I thought she would've gotten better by the time I had gotten back. Father and Busy were making dinner instead. I placed my bags in my room and had Yukon stay there as well.

Dinner went over well enough. We ate in the living room instead of the dining room, as a way to keep the family together. Busy asked about my visit to Manehatten and to which I answered with the fun that the three, four in a way, of us had. Eventually I stopped eating when I got to the point where I had to say it. When Idol passed away due to his illness and the subsequent fallout of it all. The only thing to make a sound after that, was the crackling flames from the stoney fireplace. Busy apologized, I told her it was okay, assuring her that I would have to tell her eventually. Father wasn't shaken by the news, he had known who Idol was, but he didn't know him.

I hope Celestia keeps her word about the soldiers. I still have a few days left until I have to start reporting to work again. I hope this all goes over smoothly. It'll be big news, for all of us.

#95
Winter. Day 100. Late Morning. Clackerton.

I got up earlier than normal today, before the sun even rose past the horizon. I found myself staring at the translated poem once again, as well as my mother's pocket watch and lockbox. What the shit am I going to do with these now? I sighed and proceeded to copy down the last two parts of the poem. Celestia will need to know about it in order for some of the volumes to make sense to her. I sent it off and carried on with breakfast. Left a note saying where I was too.

After that, I personally visited the mayor. A task that took far longer than I thought it would. I had to wait for the office to open and even then, I had to wait for proper permission from the two guards that stood before the front door. Then I waited in the lobby for who knows how long. Then I saw the mayor, sitting behind her desk of glossy mahogany. On it was his name, ink well and quill, and stacks of papers I certainly wouldn't like to read through. Always kept a bow on his wall though, a prized possession of his. He was one of the few that deserved every absolute respect in Clackerton. I wonder why Idol's family hasn't tried touching him yet.

“Most ponies tend to make appointments, Letter. However, most of don't make them this early.” he eyed me with a piercing stare.

“I can't imagine why, Mayor Archer.” I tried humoring him to make his stare go away.

His eyes remained unwavered. “I see your point. My secretary tells me you have some important information to give me?” Without a word, he received the letter. He opened it and darted his eyes quickly across the paper. “Son, you realize that this could be conspiracy theory from this friend of yours?”

“I've no reason to doubt him, sir. He was born and raised by that family. He's even asked one of the guards to investigate the matter while he was gone.”

He set the paper down, “This guard, does he have a name?”

“Dirty Dirt, sir.”

“Ah, that lethargic one. I can see why he'd ask him.”

“Sir?”

“Nothing, son. Anyways, since this is an safety concern for the entire town, I'll be asking that guard of Idol's to disclosed whatever information he can. It shouldn't take too much longer. I'll let you know the results, before the news hits the paper.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You may leave now, Letter, and I hope for your sake, this isn't an elaborate ploy.”

“I'm positive it is not. Idol did mention that they could hold the entire town hostage, but not how.”

“Perhaps Dirt will know. Go on, son. I've work to do and this will take time.”

I nodded and left, then headed back home.

#96
Winter. Day 100. Evening. Clackerton

I went over to Apricot's after visiting the mayor. She was more than happy to see me again. More so when I showed her the earrings that I had Rarity make. She darted upstairs after I gave them to her. Then came back down in her caparison and even did her long mane up into a bun. I was a bit confused by what she was doing until she took me down to Market Street and dragged me into a new photography center. It'd opened up just after I had left for Manehatten. I was a bit nervous about getting my picture taken, she was not. We wound up getting three different pictures taken: two separate, and the third together. We'd have to wait awhile before the photographs were processed, so Apricot took me over to Palatial Manor, where she'd become friends with the owner through a piece of jewelry he wanted commissioned from her. Funnily enough, he was the first pony that I delivered mail to when I took the extended service job.

He and his wife both served us lunch as a thank you, for the commission and for Abner, who I've nearly forgotten about. He went on to tell me his part of the story, in the most humorous fashion possible. Unfortunately, his part ended early; he'd been turned to stone by the curse of a temple they had to raid. Well, not so much to raid as to re-enchant an ancient sword nearly the size of him. He carried on the story, some details fuzzy from the expanse of time. A bull of sorts was what cursed, not the temple itself. As to why it did, he couldn't recall.

When I asked about how he was freed from his stone prison, he thanked Prudence. He'd already been collecting some of the materials required to dispel the curse. Abner and Charger had finished that task for him. Although, Charger was the only one who came out to give him the potion, which he thought was kind of strange. Whisk was just happy to get back home, married Rosamond and remained here. There was one companion of theirs that I hadn't met yet, Marina. She tended to an aquarium out in Canterlot and it's kept her busy.

Our story ended with a puff of magic that alerted Apricot that our photographs were done. Less time than I thought they would be. We said our goodbyes to one another and went on our way. Palatial Manor was nestled into one of the mountains many crevices and gave a good view of Clackerton from here. As one of the first buildings here, it sat outside the main wall. Still no contest for the view from clock tower.

Apricot and I went back into town and found ourselves in front of the photography studio again. The images came out better than I had imagined. Thankfully I wasn't wearing a silly smile of some sort and my eyes weren't half closed either. I got lost in Apricot's photo that captured her mane in full, delicate eyes, and her subtle smile.

“Letter.” She nudged me. “I'm not that captivating, am I?”

“Oh, what? Well, I was just looking. I mean...” What was I so flustered for? Even now I can feel my cheeks turning red. I took a quick, deep breath and straightened my head. “Yes, you are.”

She smiled so widely then, it still haunts me, in a way. A happy haunting. I took the photograph of the two of us, folded it up and put it in my locket. After she paid for the photographs, which were relatively cheap, she dragged me back to her house for dinner. I was happy to come along, but I've never seen her work something out like this before. She'd planned the entire day for when I got back.

The dinner went over quite well. Most of discussing the recent family reunion of theirs. Eventually, the topic came down to Idol. Apricot asked when the table was silent and as much as I didn't want to spoil the mood, I had to breaks the news somehow.

Apricot lowered her ears and frowned and stared at her food. She kept quiet until she pushed her chair back, lumbered over and held me close.

I had introduced her to Idol.

She began to sob, quietly.

The three of us were great friends, we always cheered each other on. Supported each other when we hard difficulty in our work, be it school or our hobbies. We looked out for each other too.

Her tears fell on me, she sniffed.

Idol had helped her find the suppliers for her jewel work and helped critiquing anything she made.

Her parents came over and hugged me too. They didn't know Idol all that well, but they knew the name.

I hope that this was the last of his fallout. Of course, I've no idea how far his reputation precedes him.

#97
Winter. Day 101. Morning. Clackerton.

After the little spiel at Apricot's last night and saying our goodbyes to one another, I headed for the front gate. Celestia said that they should be there by tonight. The moon was already lighting up the clear night, just a quarter left until full. Made the snow glisten.

Just down the mountain I could see a shift in the treeline. From it, three figures. One struck me as familiar, but at that distance, difficult to tell. Only when they got close was I able to tell who was who. Zecora, leading Charger and Wrecker up the well traveled path. We greeted each other, I invited Zecora to stay in Clackerton for the night, the temperature was beginning to drop. She agreed and as a place to stay, Charger offered to help with that.

I wound up leading them through town. Streets were almost empty this time of night. Ponies usually turning in for the night unless they were spending their evening at the inn or a bar. I'd forgotten how big Wrecker was, his steps could easily put cracks in the road. Bore his full serpentine armor and the fearsome skull helmet from the beast it came from. I wonder how he got that armor.

Before we got to the gate separating the town from Palatial Manor, Charger stopped in his tracks. I turned around and remembered something he said the last time he was here. “Ready to come back home, Charger?”

Sighing heavily, “Ready as I'll ever be. Just been a long time, is all.”

“I'm sure Whisk would love to cook you something to eat. Your sister misses you too.”

He smiled and continued on ahead of me, catching up to Wrecker and Zecora as they made their way to the front door. I trailed behind as the guards closed the gate behind me.

A delightful and rather late dinner between all of us last night. Still, I would've liked Apricot to come here with me, but she was in bed by then. Charger and Whisk god drunk beyond each others, our, comprehension and passed out at the table. Rosamond took Whisk to their room and Wrecker took Charger to their own. It was just Zecora and I left at the table by then. Their rather old butler, Jeeves- whose name I found out then, busied himself with cleaning up what was left on the table.

I found myself leaning back in a chair, staring up at the ceiling high and vaulted in a single arc that stretched across the rest of the manor. My focus of it pulled away when Zecora asked me about my request for help. I put the chair back down to its four legs and listened. Apparently Charger had mentioned it during their walk through Everfree. I explained the story behind it, as short as I could. A friend whose family wanted nothing more than power, willing to overthrow the mayor to do it.

Zecora took the story well and told me that I was doing the right thing. I agreed, but some part of me still doubts if it's even real. I guess the mystery of it all is a bit dumbfounding. His family certainly knew how to cover their tracks if he's right about all this.

I invited Zecora to stay at my house, instead of staying some place more unfamiliar to her. She agreed, speaking in her usual rhyme. I lead her through town and to my house, the living room still dimly lit by candlelight. It was to my surprise that Zecora had already known my mother. She'd gone through her home town at one point, got to know the village leader and his daughter, Zecora. They chatted the night away, in whispers and hushed laughter. I listened for a time, seeing Zecora actually get embarrassed by some silly antics of hers when she was a young filly. One moment in particular for her was when she spilled a bit of a potion on a butterfly, which immediately grew some thirty times its original size and got tangled up in the tent she was using.

I went to bed sometime during that conversation, tired from a rather long day. I went to bed with a smile.

#98
Winter. Day 103. Morning. Clackerton

The mayor visited me yesterday, as he said he would. As it turns out, Idol was right and his informant had been in there long enough to distinguish and point out who was who amongst them. The leader and Idol's oldest brother was actually Flight Gear's assistant dock manager. Even went under a different name to avoid suspicion. Which greatly explains massive amounts of shipments unaccounted for. It's odd though, that Flight Gear hadn't caught on. The information he received was well manipulated before he even got his hooves on it.

Dirt was also able to point out those in the guard was part of this whole conspiracy as well. A shame really, considering most of those who were were well respected for their achievements. Others included one of the auctioneers, a few store owners in the food and blacksmithing departments, and lastly, Mayor Archer's own assistant. Idol's family on the other hoof, kept themselves locked away somewhere. Troublesome, all of it. There was a spell to prevent eavesdropping, but his assistant was smarter than that. He'd probably developed one of his own to both counter and record everything he's done down to every breath.

Dirt looked stupid, but he was clever. It was easy for him to fool the ones who recruited ponies into the recruiters. Using both his low rank and low wealth and their promises of the opposite made it possible. Mayor Archer said that if this goes through without a fight, it'll be a miracle. If they've caught on to our plans, then things are going to be even more hectic. The chances of that are high. I don't know what plan they have in mind, but I hope it works out.

Zecora was still in town, I guided her around Market Street for a bit yesterday before the mayor had come along. I introduced her to Apricot as well, they both talked jewelry for awhile. Citing differences between our cultures and similarities as well.

Another long day out, and mostly uneventful, before I went to bed again. Today I awoke to nightmares of nothing but fires and their piercing fire under snow and lightning.

#99
Winter. Day 104. Evening? Lost and injured. Bloodied and hungry. Vast place of snow, cold and alone.

I've nestled myself in what twigs and branches I could, breaking them free from the evergreen trees that line this vast plane of snow. I can't even see a mountain nor the sun from here. Clouds span the sky thicker than my mother's quilts, gray and unmoving. The wind doesn't bother blowing either. It all happened quickly enough, but it was also long and grueling. Strange how that works.

I suppose I should start from the first event, An explosion right under Auction Square. Followed by a mass of infighting between the guards still loyal and the ones defecting. Another from the air ships that were sitting at the docks. A third one went off just behind the mayor's home. I can still remember the screams of those running away and those who were trapped or laid across the cobblestone either dead or gruesomely injured. The shaking of the earth, I can still feel it.

Busy found me along Market Street, she'd been running through the crowds to find me, trying not to vomit from the sheer sight of things. We sprinted home through the crowds of those coming help and fleeing. When we got back to the house, we were greeted by a ravaged living room and a missing mother. I'm not sure what came over me then, panic, rage, or heroics but I was not going to let them take my mother. I went to my room and found everything in tact. I grabbed the lockbox, pocket watch, my necklace with its locket and Parchment Stone, all the notes I had of The Designer's Script and the last volume. I packed everything into my saddlebags as quickly as I could, not caring about the weight. I packed my scarf too. The lockbox was keeping my mother's location a secret from her other half, I couldn’t have them taking her away to places unknown.

Before I bolted back out the door, I grabbed the photograph of Apricot and I and stuffed that in my bag as well. Yukon followed me out the door as well. I met Zecora on my way down the stairs, I told her and Busy to help the wounded. I knew Zecora had some first aid experience and Busy trusted my order. I could only wonder where my father was. I know he and his construction crew are helping all of those they can. I hope the town doctor is on our side, at least.

Parting from my home once more, I took to finding my way among fire and rubble to get to Apricot's home. I wanted to know that she was safe. Yukon followed me the best he could. The smoke and dust was hampering his flight. So he took to perching himself on my back. I managed to get to Apricot's house and luckily her house hadn't been damaged by anything. I found her scared and hiding with her parents in their living room.

“Apricot!” I shouted over another explosion erupted. I saw her mouth 'what' and replied, “I need you to keep an eye on Yukon for me.” She was always good with animals, I knew she wouldn't be moving from here though. She nodded as I pulled him off my back. I looked him in the eyes, “Yukon, stay here with Apricot and behave yourself, okay?” I don't know how that bird understood what I said, but he listened. I gave Apricot a hug before rushing over to Palatial Manor.

At least I was until I ran into Charger and Wrecker fighting off a few defects. Charger took them down with well placed kicks to pressure points while Wrecker just outright charged the lot of them. Spears and swords held no will against his full suit of armor. They filled me in on the situation. Idol sure was right about his family and their conspirators holding the town hostage, but this had become more than that. One the conspirators got a little antsy while they were busting some of the higher ups, pulled the detonation chord that triggered the first set of explosives. They managed to stop a majority of the others by containing the explosions with magic, no easy task I imagine. The mayor is somewhere safe, they didn't want to disclose the location.

When I turned away from Charger and Wrecker, I saw that the clock tower was still standing tall, pierced by a single plank of wood and barely scratched. I smiled for a moment at that. The three of us continued on, going towards the epicenter of the most recent explosion. It'd taken out the restaurant that Apricot and I had our first date at. That saddened me. We pulled out some ponies from the rubble there. Twenty, if memory serves me right. All of them lightly injured, thankfully. Charger applied first aid to those that he could and told them to remain there.

Rosamond and Whisk joined us on our way toward the initial explosion. Makeshift beds and tables were already being made. Most of them, if not all of them, were crying out in one way or another. I could feel my steps slow and I felt locked away in a cage, forced to watch from afar. I lost my eyes, in a sense, then. Everything was in such a chaos there. Fillies and colts were huddled and confused, scared. Some of them lost stood in place, crying out for their parents. A few tugged at remained. Another glance I shot, there was the opposite of that; parents after their children.

Charger snapped me out of that daze. I found myself sitting at the corner, where Market Street met Square, thinking about how this could all be my fault. I didn't want that to happen but I had no way of knowing that it would either. I sat there with an empty mind for the longest time, shaken by the sight. I thought the Golden Path in Light Fringe was bad, but this was far worse.

The chaos of noise settled down in the late afternoon. The winds began to get chilly. I was still sitting there at that corner, mindless and empty. The dead were being carried out by their loved ones, families by their friends, guards by guards. I don't believe there was a single pony who wasn't injured. No one had seen my mother. She found me with Yukon by her side. I got up and hugged her and cried what tears I could, happy that she was alive and unharmed. She did the same for me. Oh if she could see me now.

An odd wind began to pick up and in the valley below, the groan of gears began to sound. I pulled away from Apricot and flew to the top of the wall and surveyed the valley. A large set of doors began to pry open the mountainside, revealing the pointed bow of a ship. The doors crumbled and collapsed under their own weight, tumbling into the valley. As it slowly pulled out, I recognized the design was similar to Flight Gear's ship, the Goshawk. Which of course, had bad news written all over it.

The sky began to darken too, the clouds began to spiral. She found mother.

I flew from the wall and toward Flight Gear's workshop. I hoped he was just as safe as Apricot was. To my luck, he was, and so was my workshop. My guess is that they wanted to use his workshop should they be successful. Fortunately they weren't, unfortunate that it cost us.

I found Flight Gear and his wife, Albedo, tending to injured dock workers. I found him sticking with one stallion and tightly holding one of his hooves. That stallion shaking so violently it killed him. I saw that stallion's eyes, they were so lost and confused. Had burns all over his body, some parts showed charred bone. I think it was my curiosity that kept me staring. I remember the last couple words he muttered, “Mother, I'm coming home.”

Flight let go of the stallion's hoof and looked up at me, “Your eyes just like that guys.” I didn't answer, but I know what he was getting at now. I told him what I needed from him. He gave me the key to the chest that it was in. I found it behind the counter in his workshop. It was difficult to put it on, as it was the first time. Yet I was faster. The cold metal felt familiar and it didn't interfere with my saddlebags at all. I went out the door and back to the spot on the wall. The ship began to leave the valley, making its way north. I turned around and saw Apricot was still standing there where I left her. I flew back to her as the first drops of snow began to fall.

“Apricot, I have to leave again.” She nodded,we embraced in a hug and short kiss then I turned to Yukon. “Yukon,” I pulled the scarf from my bag and tore a piece of it off. “If I don't come back in a few days time, look for me.” I wrapped and tied the torn piece around his rough leg. I gave Apricot another long hug, tighter this time. “I love you, Apricot.”

“I love you too, Letter. Go, before it's too late.”

And I did. I took to the sky, started up the turbine on my equipment with the press of a small button and began to hear it whir. I flew towards the ship, just above the trees in the valley. Hopefully a stealthy approach would let me board the ship unnoticed. But no. I was fired on by streams of magic coming from the incomplete back end of the ship. My gear allowed me to avoid nearly all of it. A few hits smoldered my wings but I recovered quickly and eventually closed in. Crash landing into a batch of unwilling guards, I turned to face the others who charged at me.

I didn't know how to fight against their magic and spears. Instead of fighting, I ran. It seemed none of the defects knew a spell to catch somepony. The layout was similar to the Goshawk as well, so I guessed my way to the deck of the ship. When I looked to the bridge, I saw the stallion who was in charge of this whole mess, Idol's brother. A unicorn dull black and blue

“Where's my mother?” I yelled.

He let one of his deckhands take the wheel. “So you're the young and foolish one that told the mayor. Letter Bee, if I recall correctly. You've worked up quite the reputation. Freeing the Light Fringe Kingdom from its maelstrom. Doing the same with the recent one over Ponyville. Even considered as a royal messenger for Celestia.” He circled around me, “Do you see what your friend, my bastard son, has wrought upon your home? Nothing but despair, pain, and cruel misery.” His eyes met mine. “Yet, here you are asking the villain where your mother is.” He circled me again. “ You realize that in the span of your life, I've studied lore after lore, every citizen of Clackerton, alive or dead, and every ship that came through those docks. Yet your mother's history was a wild goose, a red herring.”

He stopped in front of me again, picked me up with his magic, encasing me in a ball of light blue. The little wisps of magic appeared again, they were dark in color. “I've monitored everything and made absolutely sure Idol didn't know. When I found out you, a pegasus, was using magic I became curious. Then I found out you were sending letters to Celestia.” I remember my eyes widening then. “You should lock your bedroom windows more often, boy.” I felt his magic squeeze me, I winced. He motioned to one of his cronies, who went beneath the deck and dragged out my mother wrapped in rope, silenced and blinded by cloth. Idol's brother took off the cloth and revealed to me her battered face. I struggled against his magic only to have it press in more. “Don't do that, you little spick.” he glared “She put up a bit of a fight in her state, used magic even. Very weak magic.” Changed he ball to chains and bound me to the deck. I managed a closer look at mother, she was awake but extremely weary. “Unlike my son, you were brave enough to come to your mother's aid. He was such a coward.”

“He wasn't a coward, you spineless chicken.”

He growled and raised his voice. “You saw what his bravery did. It brought nothing but despair and death. I would have brought the entire town into prosperity but you had to go and ruin it!” He raised my chin with more magic. “But now I have a new key.” He pulled a sword from a defected guard. “That is you and your mother.” He set the sword's tip on my mother's cheek. “It'll be just you, should you resist. Now, what will it be?”

I saw mother mouth a few words and smiled. He thinks the lockbox is a metaphor. He fooled himself! “Could you unbind me first? I can't use magic like you think. I was merely using a magic stone, nothing more, nothing less.”

Somehow that was enough to convince him. “Good.” He pulled the sword away from her cheek and smiled widely. “It would be unfortunate if I didn't have a pony to translate.” He unbound me and began to say something else. I tackled him.

The first spear bounced off my flight equipment. A second pierced my right wing and grazed my chest. Third one through my back leg. “You've no idea what you've done, you arrogant bastard.”

I recalled the words my mother said that one night and tried repeating them. The lockbox burst out of my bag and opened up, unveiling a dark purple cloud of glimmering stars. I felt weight lift from the spears and I pulled away from Idol's brother, the spears vanishing from me. I saw fear glaze over him. The winds were beginning to pick up and snow fell heavier. Then, from the clouds, descended her other half just as ghostly as the cloud. They merged in a swirling mist and ran their entire essence into my mother.

When the light faded, the storm vanished. All the guards and Idol's brother disintegrated into ash, screaming as they did. When I turned to see my mother, I saw her in her original form, an alicorn far larger than Celestia. “You've saved Clackerton, my son.” her voice rang in familiar echo. “But now, you must prevent the Rebirth. Seek out The Designs, they will give you the answer that I do not know. The Designers-” She collapsed and struggled to stand back up. “My son,” she smiled and began to cry. “I love you, so very much.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“Please, forgive me.” Several spears of magic formed up around her. She fought it, pulling her head away and sending the spears elsewhere. She muttered magic words to fight it too, dissolving a few more. It looked like she was in far more pain than she had ever been before. Screaming, being caged and stripped of everything she ever was to me. A gentle, kind, and loving mother far wiser than the sky.

“I forgive you, mother.”

“Thank you.”

I was then blinded by a flash of light. Thrust through air, pulled and stretched beyond belief. It was entirely painless until I emptied my stomach into the snow. I felt zapped of any energy. After retching, I lied still for a bit to regain myself. Turned off Gold Arrow's whirring engine and took it off, before it could freeze to my coat. Pulled the scarf from my bag and ripped off another chunk, wrapped it around my leg to cover the wound. My wing will be fine, as it only took out a few feathers. I loosely tucked the scarf back into the bag and for what could be the last time, sent a short letter off to Celestia informing her of what had happened.

It was hard enough to walk with a gaping hole in my leg. I managed limped flight several times but full fledged flight was nothing but pain. Perhaps the magic ball Idol's brother encased me in had done more harm than the spears. Maybe the teleportation did something too.

All this snow is reminding me of when I trekked from Canterlot to Ponyville. Just now, I thought I saw the shadow of something, about the size of a bear. Whatever it is, it's keeping me awake out of worry. But my eyes are far too heavy to keep them open much longer.

#100
Winter. Day 115. Noon. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

I managed to survive my ordeal. Not without some help of course. The local doctor, a dark yellow unicorn with hair to the floor and short yet full grown disclosed to me how I got here. A couple of the town's gatherers found my trail of blood, without it, I would've froze to death. They picked me up and dragged me here. The kind doctor, Bolted Cloth, has been tending me since. Told me where I was too. A place known as Anchor's Inn in a town called Vesta.

It was still pretty cold here. Everything appeared to have been constructed from both trimmed and fitted timber insulated by the snow itself. Reinforced igloos, in a sense. Light was provided by glass lanterns hung by black rope jumping across the ceiling. There wasn't a window to be seen anywhere, but there was a clock and a calender, thankfully. Eleven bloody days of sleep and not a dream to remember. My bags were sitting underneath the calender, unopened. Thankful for that, too.

Aside from that, I can't seem to feel any pain. Guess Bolt has me under a spell of some sort. I am glad I'm able to write, at least. I just hope I'll be able to leave soon.

#101
Winter. Day 115. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

I've come to learn that Vesta was a once thriving place in the north had its population dwindled by the freezing snow. Those who've remained are the few that run the place. Innkeeper Bar Bill is also the mayor. Bolt is the doctor and trade master. But the two twin brothers who saved me, Fisher and Hisser, only gathered food and made it into something edible. There are more ponies here, the doctor assured me, but they rarely come out of their homes because of the weather.

I haven't seen the innkeeper yet, but I've seen the two brothers, practically twins. Both of them ice blue with light brown mane and tail, pitch black freckles, and white hooves. Their mane and tail were the same too, short and fluffy; their beards too. Just a bit taller than the doctor. The only difference was their eyes, one was blind due to cataracts and the other had dark brown eyes speckled green. Fisher being the blind one.

They brought me some food earlier too, rather silently. Hisser guided his brother around with a bell around his neck. Fisher's ears would constantly shift to listen for that bell. When the bell was quiet, Fisher would begin to mumble a bit, Hisser would make a hissing sound with his teeth. They communicated with me only with gestures. Nudged me with the plate, pointed at the food and motioned his hoof to his mouth. Had Bolt forgotten to mention something about that?

I ate what I could of the mash of grass and grain, spiced by a bit of pepper. Gave me water to drink too. Kept it contained in some sort of thick insulator. Whatever it is, it certainly kept the water inside from freezing. Hisser ate his food first, then Fisher. Hisser had to help his brother eat though. He missed his mouth a couple times, almost stuffed the food up his nose once. Then they left without a word, leaving my portion with me.

#102
Winter. Day 116. Morning. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Turns out that everypony here speaks a different language than I do. Bolt learned what I spoke from some words I said in my sleep. He'd already known Equestrian and three other languages. Found it a useful trait to have. Vesta used to see a lot of travel too and the sick and injured was an unfortunate byproduct of it all. I've been getting the itching thought that the may be another reason behind the decrease in population. Bolt pointed out that spring used to be a thing here, shorter than most though.

I've had an irritating itching since last night. The cast and bandages on my leg were changed and Bolt has been lowering my pain medication to keep me a bit more livid. Hes been resorting to localized forms of medicines. He still hasn't asked how I wound up in this condition though. Perhaps he's waiting until I'm a bit less bedridden.

I asked for my bags when he was doing this last night, wanting to check to see if everything that was there, was there. He remarked that I had no reason to be paranoid but he understood my concern. He left me alone to rummage through my belongings. I could hear Fisher ask him something in his hoarse voice on the other side of the door. No telling what.

First, I pulled out my necklace, the scratched chain of gold flakes revealing the silver underneath. The interwoven sky blue petals of Olwen's Lily had lost their soft blue glow and had begun to wilt. The attached locket had a few scratches and the fire opal Apricot had insetted had lost its polish. I nudged the lever to open the locket, the picture of her was still in there; both the old one and the new one. I hope she's okay, rather faint of heart. I left the locket open and placed the necklace on the shamble looking nightstand.

Pulled out the Parchment Stone next. It was warm compared to the gold surface around it. Simple leaf engravings on either side. It was meant to be attached to the locket with a clip but I had taken it off for easier carrying. The stone itself was a bright ruby, imperfect by pink streaks. A warm stone meant that Celestia had sent letters. Surprising that the flame they came in didn't burn a hole through the bag.

So I dug through the bag and found the letters. I read through each one. One for every other day I had been gone. The first letter was from Celestia, regarding the temporary evacuation of Clackerton. The injured were treated by a force of doctors and the dead were properly buried and mourned. Tombstones carved and placed with every name. Celestia mentioned that it had been some time since an incident like this had occurred. She didn't mention what. On a lighter note, she had met the rest of my family and Apricot. My father was still alive, but he was battered by debris.

Second letter involved more burials, a noted concern of my whereabouts She'd found the remains of the ship that I had chased after. After interrogating one of the defect guards, a rather shaken fellow, she disclosed what he had to say. He was one of few that had managed to survive both the disintegration and the crash however, he had been below deck at the time. Leaving the answer of what happened above deck a mystery. She could feel the remnants of powerful magic sting the air around the entire ship. A trait that left some of her guards temporarily paralyzed. It was also a strong indication of exceedingly powerful teleportation magic. She found the lock box too, which remained untouched by its surroundings.

The third letter remarked the case about the bombs that had been placed under Clackerton had all been removed and dismantled. More burials were made and more injured were recovered from the debris of more homes. The mayor had also unfortunately perished after a defect razed his home. He'd been killed before the fire started.

The last three letters were relatively short. More updates on what happened, the total of those who passed, fifty in total, a tenth of the population. Cleaning and rebuilding had begun, my father playing a major roll in that. She met Dream Seer and Apparition as well. Twilight had visited out of her own concern as well. Visiting the crash site to try and determine exactly what spells were used. Unfortunately, the static had disrupted the magic remnants to a level unrecognizable. The last letter she wrote appeared to be under the impression that I had died. Disheartening, really.

Put the letters aside and pulled out my bloodied scarf followed by the potion Zecora had given me. I smiled at it and pondered when I would need the thing. Next was Gold Arrow, my flight equipment. It was in as good condition as it could be, aside from the large gouge left by the spear. I was lucky that it hadn't run up further and pierced through my neck. I've done a crazy thing but I have to solve the problem now too. I pulled out the fourth volume, kind of glad I brought it. It'll be nice to have something to read, as dull as it is.

Idol's kidnapping of my mother was unexpected. I do remember my mother saying that night I asked her about the poems and the volumes, that it was only a matter or time before her other half found her. Yet I wonder, what exactly was the purpose of the lockbox then, other than concealing her location? The magic contained inside she had at her command but even then it's questionable.

Time for breakfast it seems. Bolt just asked if everything I had checked out and I confirmed that everything was. I'll have to write a letter back when I get the chance, before dinner, hopefully.

#103
Winter. Day 116. Late Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Sent Celestia a letter saying where I wound up. She was glad that I was alive but worried about my state of health. Sent a notice to my family, my sister and father, after she read my letter. She consulted her cartographers as well, Vesta was nowhere on any of their maps. The possibility of being on an entirely different continent altogether was extremely likely. She'd never sent anypony out that far. They've barely managed to explore the remainder of their own. Told me to proceed with caution from here on out. Strong words of advice but I've already mucked that up quite well.

I've managed to do a bit of walking before dinner. Bolt helped me with that, lead me into the dining hall of the inn. Tables all carved and hacked into round uneven surfaces. Chairs were much the same with small backs and short legs. The bar was different, it had more attention to its crafting. Leveled and polished but there was wear where mugs had skimmed, rested and clacked. Whatever alcohol they had on the mirror backed shelves was far less than what they once held. The bar stools took on the likes of the chairs, only taller. A pony's hooves could rest on the rod that spanned the length of the bar.

It was then that I met Bar Bill. Held himself high, dark cream eyes ever squinting. Skinny but there was muscle there defined by his shiny rusty coat. His mane matched the steel bands on the mugs that lined two of the shelves. He greeted me with a quiet wave and his brows raised. Bolt lead me to a one of the tables near the bar. A good view of the dark and windowless square door. Bolt told me he didn't like bars too much, his long coat drew a lot of unwanted attention.

The two brothers threw open the door with a barrel full of cut wheat from the cellar. Something they'd only use if they couldn't find food in the nearby area. There were shipments too, but those are few and far between. They dragged the barrel to the bar and began cutting out parts that were spoiled, they'd start fires with those bits. Fisher could sort out the seed and spoiled parts by touch, Hisser would catch what he missed. It seemed the two played supporting rolls for one another when it was called for. Bar quietly poured them drinks. Two more for Bolt and I.

While I drank, I listened to Bolt's story of how he wound up here. He was a traveling doctor, part of a trading caravan that found their place here. Built homes and the like however, a majority of them went south for the long winters here. Unable to bear the frigid whether. Told me of Bill, who'd been part of his caravan and how he started the inn keep travelers warm when they had no shelter to call their own. Anchor was in reference to his seaside home far away from here. Fisher and Hisser on the other hoof, were here well before he had arrived. For all he knew, they could be as old as the town itself.

I exchange for his story, I told him mine. Where I had grown up, the job I held, my journeys to the Frozen Desert and the Light Fringe Kingdom. Told him of Stribog and the wolf. The Portal of Four and the beast I had felled. Continued on with my meeting with Celestia and Twilight and their royal rankings. Even told him about Idol and his eventual death to his disease. Then came the tale of my winding up here, every part of my mother's existence as I knew it, revealed.

He listened, intent on my story. Not a single moment he questioned the possibility of. Instead he asked something rather simple. “Is there at least anypony waiting for you? A loved one? Friends or family?” The short answer was yes, there is. Apricot was the most prominent thought. He chugged the last of his cider and added, “Good. Not all of us are that lucky.”

What Bolt said has been running through my head since dinner. I can see what he means by it. It's a dark truth, one that some wouldn't like to believe.

#104
Winter. Day 117. Noon. Anchor's Inn. Vesta.

I looked through the fourth volume again after breakfast. I noticed something about the scrollwork on the edge of the pages. It appeared to be writing, exactly what would take some time. She'd tangled the characters in with swirls of lines. At least I'll have something else to do, other than lie here sleeping. So I've been taking my time with it. Having to reconstruct what was written, then writing it proper, then translating it. The thought is discouraging but it's for the better.

Bolt came in to change my bandages earlier, caught a glimpse of the volume. His curiosity piqued, “That one of the volumes?”

“Yes, the fourth and last one. Brought it with me without thinking. Glad I did though. Found something that might point me in a proper direction.”

“That's good. You've got a starting line but with leg of yours, you're not going anywhere. Your wings are in no condition for flight either.”

“I can still limp, Bolt.” I pointed out.

“Yes and while that may be true, it is also ill-advised. Better to go your journey prepared than not.” He countered with a smile.

I managed to get a good look at the wound on my leg. The spear had only taken a chunk out, missing the bone entirely but it was visible. Whatever loose skin and tissue was the there, Bolt probably cut out or stitched up.

“Before I rebandage this, I need your permission for something.” I gave him an intrigued look “I can cast a healing spell to advance the healing process but there are side effects: drowsiness, irritability, increased heart rate, mild hallucinations, fever, and general overall muscle stiffness.”

“You've done this before?” He nodded. It's a risk I'm willing to take. I've already had hallucinations before. “Do it. I need to stop my mother as soon as I can.”

“Very well.” He grabbed a damp rag and cleaned off what blood was there and placed a single strip of gauss around the wound. “This'll sting a little.” And so it did. There was no magic glow from his horn that I could see but I could feel the spell beginning to work. As if somepony was taking my skin and stretching it out like molten steel. I could see his mouth move the words for his spell. There was pain until he pinned the gauss down with bandages. “Okay,” he heaved a breath, “Do not take the bandages off or else the spell won't work. I'll be tending to you more to check on your condition.”

“Thank you, Bolt.”

He leaned back in his chair and inquired, “You said that there were Designs, correct?” I nodded. “What were the names?”

I thought a moment, rubbing my temples, “Eidolon, The Six, Circuit, Planar, Bury, Acacia, and Storm Drought.” I'm not sure how I managed to recalled them so perfectly.

He repeated the names to himself, none of them appeared to ring a bell. “Could I see the volume, if you're willing.” I hoofed him the thick book of old paper. He flipped through the pages, “The writing seems a bit familiar. Strikingly similar to Gestal Script. That should be a good start...” he closed the book and gave it back to me. “but there's no library here you'll find.”

“Gestal Script?”

“The required writing system for the Hestan Kingdom. A few of the caravan members that I met were from there. I studied some of their books their doctor had. Took a few notes, even.” He sighed and pulled the blankets back over my back legs. “Last I knew the kingdom was at war, so caution is extremely advisable.”

“That's what Celestia tells me.” I humored. “How do I go about getting there?”

“I don't know. I never asked where the place was. Bar might, though. He's heard far more gossip than I have. You'll have to ask him the next time we eat.” He glanced at the clock and checked his watch. He packed up his equipment and left the room after mentioning that he had another patient to check on. They'd been having a bout with a flu recently. Nasty little thing it is.

#105
Winter. Day 119. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

A day gap in entry due to constant hallucinations and excessive sleeping. The hallucinations were nothing bad, just being able to see sound and a few objects twist about. It took a quite a bit of willpower just to convince myself that they weren't actually doing that. The dreams I had while I slept were pretty crazy though I don't remember any of them.

On a more positive note, his spell is working remarkably well. More than three-fourths of it has healed up but there's an awful lot of stinging and throbbing.

Aside from the medical issues, I managed to get around to walking about on my own; with a limp of course. No cast to speak of but there is a sling. A bit of a hassle really. When I found Bar Bill, he was serving somepony I hadn't met yet. A mare with a curled ginger mane and tail. A wonder how she kept it from knotting up. White coat with a tinge of pink and orange freckles covering it all. Kept to wearing a thick dark hooded robe with gold trim to keep warm; boots to match. Her eyes were a vivid red-violet though, streaked with orange.

Bar Bill was about to speak up when she'd interrupted him“I'll introduce myself, Bill.” Her voice rolled her vowels. “Name's Ginger Snow. I heard the twins find you out in the plains all in a mess.”

“That's true. I wasn't sure I would be.” She appeared to be taking in my voice, her head tilted. “Found, I mean. Letter Bee, by the way.”

“Well I see you're at least about, so that's good, Ain't it?” I nodded. “What happened, exactly.”

I only told her the most recent of my injuries, the spears and what exactly they did. That it had happened while I was trying to save my mother, unfortunately whisked away by some ghost of her past. It was the truth, in a sense, but only the half of it. “It stings a bit, but Bolt has been doing a good job at keeping the pain away.”

“Ah, no one should have to lose their mother.” she slurred and mumbled the last bit. “Rumor has it that you were a courier too.” How did they know? I didn't bother to ask. “Plenty of pony folk here would love to send their loved ones some letters back to Hestan and Pecken. But there's a blasted storm blocking the way out of here.”

“Hestan? Bolt mentioned that when he looked at one of my books.”

“You read?”

“Sort of. Translations really.”

“Oh that sounds excitin'” Her enthusiasm and loud voice began to remind me a bit of Applejack. “What language?”

“I'm still working on cracking it.” A bold faced lie and changed the subject, “What about the storm?”

She sighed and chugged the rest of her cider. “I'll tell you upfront: I lost my mom to that storm. We were passing through it on our way back from Hestan.” The storm would explain the decrease in population here. “Strange one too. Never saw lightning and snow round here before. Hailed too.” She huffed. “What really did us in was the cold. We simply weren't used to it despite our thick skin and coats.”

Bar gave me a mug of cider and went back to cleaning another. “How long has the storm been there?” I asked keeping a mask of curiosity. It was important that I did.

“Bout, maybe, five years or so.” she raised her brow, “Why?”

“If anything, I'm willing to get through the storm once my leg heals up.” A brag, but nonetheless I needed to find a reason to find my way out of here other than what I had told Bolt.

“You're mad.” She eyed me.

“Correction: crazy and stubborn.” I smirked.

She turned to a gripping glare. Bar Bill took a step back from the bar. “Don't you trifle with me, stranger.” I could see her anger began to well up.

“I can deliver those letters.” I glared back. Fighting fire with fire was the best way to deal with her, it seems.

“She released her death stare and began laughing. “I like that. I do. I'll let the other folks know.” She glanced to Bar and tapped the mug on the table, he refilled it.

“Very well but I don't know when I'll be able to leave, exactly. I don't know the way, either.”

“That's why I'm going with you. Scrawny colt like you could use some muscle.” She leaped from her stool and headed for the door. “I'll be keeping you to your word, Letter. Don't go running off now.” She smiled and let in the cold winds.

“Where could I possibly run to?” I added. She shrugged at that.

It's funny how easily this is all turning out. Though I found it odd that she could speak Equestrian. Something about the air about her struck me as familiar. It's a nagging thought and I'm better off not letting it bother me.

#106
Winter. Day 122. Evening. Anchor's Inn, Vesta.

Past two days were spent rewriting the script my mother had written in the scrollwork of the volume. I've yet to actually translate it though. Although, my work had started to stifle later on in the day, I started to think about home. Celestia hadn't sent a letter since the last one. I guess there's not much to report. Given her status I'm sure she's busy with other work. Still I wonder how Apricot, Busy, and my father are all holding up. I know Apricot misses me, I miss her too. Whenever I look at her picture in the locket, my chest aches. I would love to eat dinner with her again and watch the stars from under that old apricot tree.

Busy was right about my hardheadedness, I've let it get the better of me. Although, what happened to mother would've happened regardless if I didn't try to save her. Perhaps it's for the better, I wouldn't know where to begin if she hadn't teleported me out here. Quite the place, all the ponies that I've met here are kind and gentle but the wintry weather has hardened them. They're tired and they only wish for the storm to end. Some have happily gave me their letters with thanks, others were a bit shy and reluctant.

Ginger made sure that I had received all the letters that were heading to Hestan and Pecken. She explained that Vesta was a northern colony of Hestan, primarily as an alternative route and a fishing village. The map she brought out for it was torn and old, patched by threads. Several things obviously relabeled in a sloppy manner. What seemed legible was the writing Bolt had described before. Compared to the script I knew, Gestal script had more curved lines to it and punctuation was a bit more obvious. Given the proper time, I could probably work it out.

Ginger pointed out the route we'd take and the only route we could. To go around the storm meant to go into dangerous territory, held by Hestan's enemy of war, the Empire of Resin. It'd been ten years here since then. Any word of it being over is unheard of. Bandits and vicious monsters were rampant around the alternative paths. We were both confident and willing to forge our way through the storm instead.

My leg is almost healed but still sore. The grazing wound on my chest has scabbed up and the aching in my wings seems to have vanished entirely. Good but I'm hoping that I don't wind up in need of another doctor any time soon.

I spent what little time I had left packing everything back into my bags. Then organized the letters and packed those away as well. I need the early sleep tonight, Ginger and I plan to head out early in the morning. I looked at Apricot's picture again and smiled. Going through the storm will be the first step on the journey home. I can only hope for a good turn of events and perhaps a lead on where to go next.

#107
Winter. Day 123. Mid Morning. Vesta.

Ginger and I left Vesta this morning. Fisher and Hisser didn’t seem to mind my leaving. Bolt on the other hoof, wished us both good luck in our venture. Ginger gave me a large robe much like hers before we left the inn. It was a bit more tattered and dusty, but it was warm all the same. Heavy too.

As we left I gave my eyes a moment to adjust to the lighting. The sky was gray and bright and the snow was vast and endless tinted by sunrise. The old doors to the inn creaked closed behind me, the sign overhead swayed lightly by a chain knotted around a rod. There was a good view of the rest of town from here, all the houses pointed out by the glares of their sunlit windowpanes. Snow had covered those houses too, buried them until they were mounds. A few taller houses I saw had their thatched roofs collapsed, leaving them a disheveled tower of stone and mortar brickwork.

As Ginger and I made our way down the shoveled path, branched like a small round tree, I could see the glimpses of several ponies peer from their windows. A few were brave enough to open their ragged doors and wave to us and gives us words of farewell. Words I only knew from Ginger's telling me.

When we reached the end of the path, I double checked everything I had. Ginger did the same with our food. I gave Vesta one last glance, all I could see was Anchor's Inn and its broad front. I looked in the opposite and vaguely, I could see the clouds shift ever so slightly. Beneath them was a sunlit fog. And for a moment, I thought I saw lightning.

#108
Winter. Day 123. Early Evening. Outside the storm.

We've stopped a ways before the storm wall. An extremely long and lonesome walk. Wind brushed our muzzles in unrelenting chill, even with our scarves and hooded robes. The sound of the lightening tearing apart the air was deafening and the thunder rolled heavier than a trebuchet. Vaguely, the sun's light was visible through the thick veil of snow. A reminder of what I saw in Light Fringe before I broke the storm there, if you can call it that.

Ginger was quiet most of the way, we both were really. We huddled together for warmth, strange to me as Apricot had been the only one that I really did that with. Then she spoke up, “You're pretty brave, Letter.”

I could see the fog of her breath jump into my sight. “How so?” I asked her in a low tone.

“Jumping head first into a place unknown without much care. It's brave but it's foolish too.” her voice shivered out the words.

“Part of my job, Ginger. I am a courier and delivering letters is what I do.”

“Of course, of course. “ she muttered. “Have you friends?”

I thought a moment. “I do. Yourself?”

“I do but they haven't seen me in years. Ever since I came up here, they haven't.”

“I'm sure they'll be happy to see you again, Ginger.” She smiled. “I don't know how long it'll be before I can get back home.”

She chuckled, “I didn't know until you came along, Letter. No one else has stared me down like that before.” I recalled the moment. “Everypony else there seems scared of me. You on the other hoof, gave a little care for it. Being scared, I mean.”

I smirked, “You meet a lot of different ponies as a courier, Ginger. Back in Clackerton I could easily spot everypony on my route in crowd. Point out their habits, even.” I paused and added, “Of course, I was pretty laxed about my job but I was always on time.”

She giggled quietly. “That's pretty good.” she cheered. “I've never had a job, honestly. Parents never let me.”

I raised a brow, “Why?”

“It's a long story, honestly. Maybe when we get to Pecken I'll tell you.” Pecken was our first stop before Hestan. We would resupply there and deliver what letters we could. It was however, an outskirt village small in size and whether or not it was still there was a grave question. “For now, let's set up a hovel and rest a bit. Been a long time since I've walked this long.”

Her and I dog out the snow just enough to turn it into a small hovel. A hole in the ceiling for a fire. She did most of the digging while I shaped what I could. Tinder and a spark from flint and steel started the fire. We burned first the bits of spoiled wheat that Hisser and Fisher had sorted through. Second was a single log of an Eversinge tree. Dark red and brown bark and an ash colored center. It was my first time seeing the stuff. Ginger told me a few useful facts: it could burn for days at a time depending on size, grew in with evergreen trees, and the sap could be used for syrup or glue.

As our exhaustion got the better of us, we agreed to sleep. I glanced at my locket again and after Ginger fell asleep, began writing a letter to Celestia. Telling her where I was headed and my current situation. The state of my wounds and how they healed. I brought up a bit about Ginger and the Eversinge log. Signed the letter after writing a bit asking her to forward a copy of the letter to my family. Then I whispered the words again to send the parchment off in a wisp of fire.

I snugged myself into my robe and began to feel the aches set in from the walking. I caught another glimpse of the wound in my leg and noticed it'd leave a notable scar and dip where it'd been pierced. I don't recall ever feeling any pain from that wound, just stinging. Like the bees that I had once been stung by when I was younger, playing by mother's bee farm.

Tomorrow we would be heading through the storm. The vague sunlight gives me hope for something or other. A clue about the Designs, one of the Designs if I'm lucky. I yawned and stretched and confined myself under my robe again.