Chapter Forty One

Center of Learning

It was another week of traveling before the carriages crested over one last sandy hill and found themselves staring out at a simply amazing sight. It was the shining beacon to the world of literature, arts and science. Contained within the mighty walls, the city held vast, uncounted scrolls, books, pieces of parchment; many of them centuries upon centuries old. Gleaming towers topped with golden spires, great jewel-encrusted libraries dotting the city’s upper echelons, teeming markets and wide, spacious roads leading into the cultural heart of the area.

The city of Baghdad was a treasure beyond measure. It’s halls of knowledge rivaled that of even the long-lost Library of Alexandria in Neighypt, lost to a fire so long ago that few creatures in the world even remembered it had once existed. Those few happened to be leading experts on the city, but could not recall any of the texts in detail, so none could learn the secrets of the past from them.

The five traveling figures stood in awe upon the hill, their gazes fixed upon this beacon in the middle of a harsh, unforgiving wasteland. Such awe did not diminish as they drew closer; nay, it increased tenfold as they entered the city, past the high, thick walls that had kept out countless invaders for generations.

“This city is... massive,” Spike said in amazement as they went along their journey, passing countless numbers of vendors, soldiers, artists and merchants. Exotic silks from the farthest reaches of Asia were displayed down countless roads and alleys; innumerable vendors displayed their exotic birds, in bright colors of gold, green and red. Guards patrolled the streets in loose formations, signifying the city was a rather peaceful one. Colts and fillies ran freely around their parents as the adults went about their daily businesses of shopping for food and home furnishing. Rugs, oil lamps, incense candles, dyes and so much more dotted the landscape. Statues were inlaid into the very sides of buildings, and the mosaic patterns that seemed to pop up everywhere were refined in their splendor. It was a menagerie of the crossroads of the area, where the realm of Asia interacted with the Arabian Peninsula and Africa. There was only one other city in the entire world that rivaled, nay, surpassed this one in splendor, and it so happened to be their destination in a few weeks.

“I’ve never seen so many ponies of all kinds in one place before,” Trixie said in awe as the carriages moved about. Merchants, soldiers, artists, philosophers, bankers, blacksmiths, government officials, couriers and the common folk; they were all there, and in numbers none of the five had ever seen before. Nearly every race was there as well, ranging from pegasi, earth ponies and unicorns to zebras, minotaurs, and griffins. The five amazed wanderers had all managed to cram into the largest carriage, and the four other empty ones followed them closely like a string of ducklings following their mother. “How many do you think there are?”

“I have no idea, though if I had to guess, more than one million, at least,” Asalah said softly, her eyes taking in everything at once, lest she miss something magnificent. There was much to see, and as such there was just as much to miss if one was not attentive. “There are so many homes, and gardens, and statues, and-,”

“Libraries,” Chrysalis said softly, her gaze floating over the numerous, clearly-marked centers of learning. Great inscriptions on massive slabs of imported lumber signified such monuments, the logo of a large open book and an overlying scroll being a very clear indicator of the building’s purpose. They were everywhere, with ponies streaming in and out, many busy with not-entirely private conversations, judging from the number of ponies that would call to them. Philosophers, doctors, scribes, artists, architects and students of law; they all came to the libraries to study and it clearly showed. There were small indented paths in the very stone steps as to where the most foot traffic came through.

“Twilight would cream herself if she saw all of this,” Spike muttered to himself, his eyes roaming over many of the larger buildings. So many were inlaid on the upper tiers with golden and silver ingots, likely to both prevent thievery and display the splendor of the magnificent city. Jewels of all kinds dotted the arches above the entrances to the libraries, likely each categorized and inlaid with some special significance attached to it.

“Spike, who exactly are we supposed to meet here? We’re not exactly staying for just a day, are we?” Trixie asked as she gently rubbed her belly. Her cravings had been fluctuating for the last few days, and right now she could sure go for some cherries.

“I got the letter this morning, but Luna was a bit fuzzy on details,” the dragon said, peering around as the carts moved on their own towards the center of the city. “All it said was ‘go to the center of the city, look for some guards, and ask for Saladin’ or something along those lines. I don’t even know who this “Saladin” guy is, to be honest,” he added. Was it a governor or a statespony? Perhaps even a member of some local royal family?

“Probably somepony important, if you have to ask the guards for him,” Trixie said. “He sounds like somepony who must have good connections, or else how would Princess Luna have contacted him? It’s not like she has the corresponding spell to find anypony in the world and send them a letter, right?”

“I guess,” Spike said as the carriages rolled to a gentle stop. The place where they stopped so happened to do so in front of a large barracks, complete with an archery range, a pair of blacksmith shops, large metal gates and several watchtowers. It looked a bit foreboding, though nowhere near as foreboding as Husam’s personal home-fortress had been.

“Should we get out?” Asalah asked, glancing around. There were several guards stationed outside of the building, and a few were glancing at the carriages with curious looks on their faces. None had bows, but the few that were armed sported spears and swords, with rather square shields slung across their backs. Strange, that guards inside a city would need shields, but it was of no matter to the five in the carriage.

“I will; all of you, stay inside,” Spike said, getting up and stepping lightly past his wives. “I don’t exactly like the look of this place.” Opening the door and stepping out, he made sure to shut it tightly behind him. As he did so, several guards moved up to him, their weapons at their sides, but their hands not touching them. A good start so far, as such an indication meant they were not agitated; yet, anyway.

“May we help you, sir? You seem lost,” one said, his helmet glinting in the sunlight. “The markets are three block down and to the right.”

“Oh, uh, I was just looking for somepony is all,” Spike said, glad his dragon identity was concealed by the golden-hued robes he wore. “I was told he would be somewhere around here.”

“And who might that be?” a second guard asked, his hand twitching towards his sword. Ah, this one was on edge; likely either a new recruit or just plain skittish around strangers.

“I was told his name was Saladin,” Spike said. In a few seconds, he wished he hadn’t, as in an instant the guards had their swords drawn and leveled right at him. Two more joined, pointing two long spears at him as well.

“What business do you have with Saladin?” the first guard asked once more, his voice still calm but tainted with a hint of seriousness that left no room for inane answers. “Very few ponies ever have any business with Saladin.” What, was this Saladin guy the captain of the city’s guard or something?

“He was sent a letter from the one who sent me here,” Spike said, surprised that he was so calm in the face of being attacked by six heavily-armed guards. Maybe it was the innate smugness knowing his dragon hide was impermeable to any of their weapons. Still, he didn’t want them to try anything on the carriage, or Luna might receive a letter on how Spike managed to kill every guard in Baghdad, turn into a giant monster, and burn it to the ground in anger. “You may have heard of her; Princess Luna of Equestria?”

“Princess Luna?” the second, twitchy guard asked, his sword trembling slightly as his voice cracked. Yep; definitely a new guy. “We... we were told to be on the lookout for a dragon. You are no dragon!” There was a new assurance in his voice, along with a triumphant smugness, as if he had cleverly discovered Spike in the act of telling a lie.

Spike sighed. “I am the one Luna sent. Should I prove it to you?” He didn’t want to set anything on fire, but if he had to, he’d scare the pants off of these guards just to prove his point.

“Show us your face then, dragon,” the second guard said, brandishing his sword at the carriage. “Or we will confiscate your carriages for your untruthfulness.”

“You will do no such thing,” Spike said, cold seriousness invading his tone. He knew things could go bad in a hurry, but if he had to, these guards would die violently before they laid a hand on the carriages and what was inside them.

“Ha! As if you could stop us,” the second guard said, making the other guards look at one another. They obviously did not like this pony, as his brazen attitude gave away that he was of Blueblood’s ilk; spoiled, pompous, ill-mannered and just plain unpleasant. Likely the son of some rich merchant or common noble, if his sneer was anything to go by; he must have practiced it in front of a mirror.

Calmly taking a step forward, Spike reached up with one hand and gently grasped the end of the guard’s sword, all the while the rest of the weapons moved in closer, should he try anything. The guard pressed it closer to Spike, as if egging him on to do something, but for some reason, the guard couldn’t push forward any more than before. Spike simply smiled under his robe and shook it off, revealing his spines, his scales, and his toothy smile to the group.

They were stunned into silence as Spike quickly twisted his hand, and with a sharp snapping noise, the tip of the sword broke off in his hand. He let it fall to the ground, watching as the annoying guard’s smugness evaporated into abject terror. If he hadn’t been in front of two other guards, the stallion might have turned tail and fled like a little bitch.

“Now,” Spike said calmly, taking a turn to look each and every guard in their eyes. “Please tell Saladin I am here. My wives and I are tired from our journey, and would be ever-so-grateful for some refreshments.”

There was some movement and some quick shouts from the door of the barracks, which opened to reveal a rather statuesque earth pony stallion. A hard, lean face and an equally tall, lean body meant this stallion had likely grown out in the desert, farther from cities than most would like to live. However, from the look on his face, he was anything but unfriendly.

“Ah, Mr. Dragul, I am sorry I did not meet you sooner. I was busy in my study when news of your arrival reached my ears,” he said, bowing gracefully before the dragon. “Please, please, come in, and I would be delighted to have your wives join us.”

Spike returned a small bow as the guards sheathed their weapons and stood aside. “I thank you for your hospitality, though the manners of your guards could use some work,” he said, glancing specially at the one whose sword he had broken.

“Ah, yes; they mean well, but know little of the finer methods of greeting,” Saladin said, a flicker of annoyance evident in his eyes when he too looked upon the guards. “Highly trained and even more loyal, but sadly, it seems there will be new lessons for them to learn.” He turned back to Spike and clapped his hands once. In an instant, the doors to the barracks swing open once more, and Saladin beckoned for him to follow.

“You can come out now,” Spike said to the carriage. Tentatively, the door opened and Trixie stepped out first, her growing belly bulge showing through her robes. Out next came Maria and Chrysalis, who had once again managed to cast the Meia disguise over herself. If this stallion was on speaking terms with Princess Luna, then any disparity between his own letter mentioning her and what everypony thought they knew back in Equestria would surely alert them to something amiss in Spike’s herd. Asalah came out last, somewhat glad they had all agreed to wear concealing robes for this stint in their journey.

“May I introduce my wives, Saladin,” the dragon said as he motioned to each mare, who in turn bowed slightly. “Trixie, Maria, Meia, and Asalah; say hello, please.”

“Greetings,” the four mares said. “We thank you for your hospitality,” Asalah added softly.

“Greetings to you as well, and you are most welcome,” the earth pony stallion replied, bowing once more. “Please, follow me. I shall show you to your quarters for the evening.”

“For the evening? Are we not staying for more than one day?” Trixie asked her husband as they followed Saladin inside. With a gentle clang the doors swung shut, leaving them inside a rather sparse hallway.

“The letter said we’d be leaving near the end of our second day here, though Luna seemed rather vague as to why,” Spike said. He turned to Saladin as they walked. “Were you told as to why we would not be staying for more than two days?”

“Indeed I was, Spike Dragul,” the stallion replied. “You see, we are embroiled in a rather tense standoff between ourselves and the Marengols. They haven’t attacked, but some of their emissaries were treated horribly by an outlying city’s ruler, and we fear a massive retaliation. That is why you will not stay long; if any army is coming towards this city, they’ll have to follow a few select roads, as they’ll be the only ones with oasis along the way. The roads you’d be taking would be going in the opposite direction said army would be coming from.”

“But just what happened to those emissaries?” Maria asked. Ambassadors and the like were usually received in a rather good manner, regardless of a nation’s attitude towards another. It was like some unspoken rule.

“They were all decapitated, except for one,” Saladin said, his tone suggesting he found the idea rather repulsive. The four mares gasped at this, and Spike’s eyes went wide. “The last emissary was completely shaved and sent back in disgrace, as their culture dictates that shaving is a sin to the stallion’s ruler.”

“But... why would that city’s leader do such a thing?” Spike asked as they arrived in a rather cramped room. “That is just... horrible!”

Another clap from Saladin, and several servants rushed in, arms laden with baskets of fruit, vegetables and several choice bottles of water. Due to it being such a hard thing to come by in a desert, water was more valuable in Baghdad than wine. Even though a river flowed through the city, ponies revered it with a somewhat religious respect, as it was the only real reason the city even existed. The water was drunk from it, yes, but it received offerings near the end of its journey through the city. Clean offerings, though, as nopony wanted the water to become filthy and polluted.

“He thought to make a show of force against what he sees as “barbarians”, though from my travels, I can tell you they are anything but that,” the stallion said as they all took their seats. “They are a fiercely independent, highly militarized society where the strong are in charge and anypony who is deemed to be weak is thrown into the lower tiers of society. Bloodlines and prestige are as important to them as winning battles, and they rarely if ever lose a fight, even when outnumbered.”

“How did they come to be?” Trixie asked. “We will have to pass through their lands in some time, and I don’t want to go there knowing next to nothing about them.”

“Well, then you are in some bit of luck, Mrs. Dragul,” Saladin said. “The Marengols have existed as long as there have been ponies living in that region of the world, but only relatively recently have they been united under one banner. Now that they are, they are quickly showing to be perhaps the most dangerous foe any nation in this portion of the world could think to face. Though, since you are from a country far across the sea, you should be rather safe. The Marengols are not hostile to visitors without ties to an enemy country. In fact, they welcome nearly all ponies into their empire, so long as they follow the rules and conform to their ways of life.”

“But why not let them keep more of their traditions?” Asalah asked.

“That would upset the delicate balance of power between the Khan and his subjects, as minority factions can wield significant power of any kind within the empire, should they chose to do so.”

“Who is this Khan?” Spike asked. “I’ve never heard of a title like that before.”

“Translated, it means something similar to what you might call “ruler”, though I can tell you the Khan is no mere ruler,” the stallion said. “But enough of that for now; I have been entrusted to show you much of what this city has to offer, and though it is not yet noon, it would be best for us to begin now, rather than have to rush things near the end of tomorrow.”

The four ponies and the dragon sat in silence. Then, like a lantern bursting into flame above him, Spike had an idea. It was an old one, a thing he had nearly forgotten in his travels. Baghdad was the city of libraries, and there was one particular librarian back home who would likely cut off her own horn for the chance to see all of the knowledge hidden away in this desert oasis.

“I should like to gather as many scrolls from the libraries around here as I can, if that is possible,” the dragon said.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Saladin said as he stirred some herbal tea.

“Why not?” Trixie asked as she took a sip of surprisingly cool water. Who would have thought Baghdad had special basements for keeping water cool in the middle of the day?

“Well, the city has a very strict rule on the sale and removal of their priceless knowledge. Nopony can have it without direct permission from the country’s leader, and even then they must pay an exorbitant fee for such a treasure.”

Spike was silent about this for a few seconds. “What about copies? Would it be possible to make copies of the scrolls, books and such?”

“That is perfectly legal, as we long ago decided there would be back-ups of the city’s knowledge stored all over the country, with Baghdad being the “central hub”, if you will,” Saladin said. “However, it can take hours to copy a couple hundred scrolls, and there are thousands of them all over this city. I doubt you have enough gold to pay enough unicorns to do such a thing.”

“You forget something, Saladin,” Spike said, an urge to grin coming over him like a cascading waterfall. “I have three unicorn wives, and all of them are highly proficient in magic.” He turned to his wives, his smile making them grin as well: it was infectious, really. “What do you say?”

“We would be glad to help,” Meia said, her smile slightly strained by the pregnancy’s effect on her disguise. Nothing was showing, thankfully, but her horn had an ever-so-slight curve to it.

“Then I will show ou the way around the city; after all, it is my duty to do so,” Saladin said with a smile. “Shall we bring along a few guards? They can help you with finding whatever you’re looking for.”

“That... would be splendid, though you may want to pick different ones than those who greeted my husband outside your barracks,” Maria said, her tone having just the tiniest touch of a chill to it.

“Of course, my lady; it will be done,” the stallion replied. “So then, where to first?”
Meanwhile...

Twilight slowly opened her eyes, the glare of the early morning sun shining easily through her paper-thin blinds. Yawning, she rolled out of bed and fell flat onto the floor. Luckily, she had prepared for this and had a second mattress waiting for her.

“I really need to stop drinking coffee late at night to help study,” the purple mare said, rubbing her temples as she rose up off the floor mattress. Dressing as quickly as she could after a quick shower (which would have been quicker if the water hadn’t needed two minutes to warm up), she slowly strolled downstairs and found none other than Pinkie Pie sitting at her coffee table with...

“Pinkie? Why are you here, and why do you have a surfboard?” Twilight was used to oddities in her life, but right now, this one was a bit odder than the rest.

“Oh Twilight, my Pinkie Sense went off and told me there’d be one heck of a doozy here at the library this morning! I told everypony else, but they either shut the door in my face or just said “later”. Huh, they must have been too tired,” the pink mare said as she sipped some hot chocolate from a thermos.

“Pinkie, that explains why you are here, but what’s with the surfboard?” Twilight asked, still confused as ever as to the exact source of Pinkie Pie’s crazy ability to predict the most random of things.

“You’ll see in about five seconds,” was all the pink pony said as she jumped onto the table, her surfboard clenched tightly in both hands.

“Pinkie, what are you-,” Twilight began, and then she was unable to say anything. A gaping hole in space-time, or so it appeared, suddenly opened up under her hooves. In an instant, a seething mass of scrolls and books flew out like an erupting volcano, the massive plume of literary treasure surging into the library like a herd of buffalo.

“YAHOO!” Pinkie Pie said, diving towards the erupting mass of paper as it quickly filled the room. Twilight, floundering in the sheer mass of paper, struggled to keep her head above the line of parchment as the pink pony beside her simply floated on her surfboard like the paper was water.

“Pinkie! Help me!” Twilight said, slowly sinking into the ever-growing pile of papyrus. Pinkie quickly grabbed her and threw her onto the surfboard, just as another hole appeared next to the first. And then another, and another, and another, until a total of ten gaping holes were on the floor.

“Hold on!” Pinkie said, standing up and bracing herself. Twilight was unable to even make a noise when the roar of paper swelled to new heights, heights unheard of in the world. Like a tsunami and an erupting volcano making sweet, sweet love, the holes poured forth great heaping volumes of white... paper, along with large sections of books and even entire bookcases. This surge proved too much for the library’s door, and soon it burst off its hinges, flooding the unsuspecting citizens of Ponyville with a solar mass of scrolls. If the door had not given way, then the entire eastern side of the library might have instead.

Twilight found her scream as Pinkie shouted in turn, the surfboard doing its job very well to hold them aloft of the tidal wave of paper. The surge continued, with more and paper and books and even a few stone tablets surging out into the streets. Ponies out for an early morning jog ran in terror from the crest behemoth that bore down on them, until they too were caught up in the seething mass of parchment.

Off in the distance, two younger girls were belittling another one. The one, with her smaller wings and orange pelt, looked on the verge of tears as the white and pink-maned two laughed at her. “Scootaloo can’t fly! Scootaloo can’t fly!” the sang in mock-cheery tones, pointing fingers at the poor pegasus.

“L-leave me alone!” Scootaloo said. The one day, the one day Applebloom and Sweetie Belle go to Rarity’s to get supplies for the Cutie Mark Crusader’s new clubhouse, she runs into these two bullies.

“Scootaloo can’t fly! Scootlatoo can’t-,” they were interrupted by a wall of paper rushing them along, catching them up like a pair of ants caught in a mudslide. Their screams were swallowed up by the torrent of paper that rushed by the orangish pegasus, who merely stared in shock and awe. Manuscripts and tablets flew past her, with the oddest sight being the two surfing ponies riding the tsunami of parchment products.

“Awesome,” Scootaloo whispered, her wings becoming stiff and her eyes widening like they never had before.

As the dust and paper tsunami settled, Twilight rolled off of Pinkie’s surfboard, feeling as though she would throw up at any second. The stretch of paper was a good five hundred feet long, thirty feet wide and nearly ten feet deep. Two smaller ponies crawled out of the huddled mass of parchment, crying out something about “a million-bazillion paper cuts”, and a few other townsponies did the same. Twilight lay there, stunned by what had happened. At least, until a single scroll appeared before her, written in green ink and in a style of handwriting she knew very well.

“Three hundred thousand copies of the scrolls, tablets and books of Baghdad, for one Twilight Sparkle. Sincerely, Spike Dragul.”

“Three... three... three...” Twilight muttered, her eye twitching as the words sunk in.

“Oh, oh, oh, is this a game? The next number is... three!” Pinkie Pie shouted, nearly crushing Twilight when she pirouetted off of the surfboard and landed right next to her.

“Three,” Twilight said, her eye continuing to twitch as her body felt like it would explode at any second from sheer joy.

“Yay, I win!” Pinkie shouted, cartwheeling off into a pile of scrolls.

Author's Notes:

Well, there you go: some more story for you guys and gals out there. Many thanks to Mr101 for making some fabulous pieces of art I posted in my blog, which i hope to use to attract some attention from Solar Embrace to this story.

What do you all think?