…Class, today we will be going over the creation of our wonderful city, Avalon.” The professor’s voice crept into Jagged’s daze; it was gravelly and demanded his attention.

Rousing himself, Jagged pulled out a few pieces of lined paper and a ballpoint pen. Sure, he’d written this note a few times over the year, but he wasn’t going to complain; each time he heard it anew, he’d find more flaws in it as his mind expanded ever outwards with critical speculation. Let the professor speak, let his classmates believe they were being told the only truth; sometimes, ignorance was bliss, as they say.

“In the beginning there was turmoil, chaos, and then our pious leader Discord arrived, ostracized from the peaceful heavens that were his home by the tyrannical sisters, Celestia and Luna…”

Celestia and Luna, the goddesses of what the Ponies of Old called the ‘sun’ and ‘moon’; two words that drew such a passion out of Jagged’s chest. What did the sun and moon look like, were they blue; now that would be something.

“...Discord had spoken out against their horrid ways of manipulating the ponies of the Old World- burning them with scorching heat waves, or killing their crops with prolonged cool droughts. When Discord had finally made his stand, he was defeated because they had cheated him by poisoning his food the Lights Off before the duel. The following Lights On, Discord found that his magical capability was next to nothing, and he quickly lost without the chance of a fair fight…”

Discord, the name they all knew and loved; their ‘pious leader’ who still reigns from the beautiful mountaintop palace known as the Tower of Avalon. Jagged was neutral on that particular fact, as there was no proof dismissing or encouraging the theory that Discord was the good one; Luna and Celestia, the bad.

“…When he fell to the ground below, he found that the poison had not worn off, and he was left unable to return to his wonderful home. At first he roamed the Old World trying to find happiness, trying to help, until he had come in a full circle with nothing more than a few faithful followers, a hundred or so out of the millions he had crossed paths with. With these followers, he created the Tower of Avalon, and then built the city up around it. When Celestia and Luna found out about Discords attempt at making their world a better place, they threatened him and his subjects with a firestorm that would wipe them off the Old World. And yet Discord held firm, and dared defy the vengeful goddesses that threatened him with death. Seeing that he would not budge, Celestia and Luna conjured their worst heat wave yet, one so potent that everything it touched melted and burnt. As the heat wave approached the settlement of Avalon, Discord used all his remaining magic to create the Paradise Device, a combination of rustic technology and pure magic. When he activated it, it created the Dome and protected the inhabitants inside, all the inhabitants. Little did he know that blending in with his faithful followers were six sinful mares…”

The story of the Six Sinful Mares always intrigued Jagged. He felt drawn towards them, and couldn’t help but feel in the pit of his stomach a connection to those illusive villains of the past. He knew, however, that he would never act as irresponsibly as they had, they had the gall to share their revelations with others, in turn causing a mass panic that pitched the dome into chaos. All the more drive that kept his own lips sealed and he alone suffering in the pain ‘reality’ liked to give him.

“…They were the very bane of his existence, and spread the word of Celestia and Luna like a sickly plague. The ponies, once peaceful and friendly-innocent-began to adopt the Sinful Six’s ways, and turned against their generous leader. This was the time known as the Twenty Year Hate, a civil conflict which Discord finally ended by capturing the ringleaders behind the barbarity-those six hateful mares-and executing them. As you know, our Celebration of the Purging was created to remember that wondrous day when the Sinful Six were finally eradicated…”

Furthermore, the punishment that had been bestowed upon the Sinful Six would only be replicated if he himself spoke up and preached what he’d discovered. Ignorance is Bliss.

“…Things eventually calmed down enough for Discord to reestablish his will, and the city again relaxed in the bliss he’d given them initially.”

Finding that he had no more space to jot down notes, Jagged blindly reached into his desk and pulled out his second piece of paper. With it, a small letter dropped out and onto the floor by his rear hooves; he scrunched his face up in confusion. Was it his? Flipping the parcel over with a quick flare of magic, he scanned the surface for a name, only to find that it was flawless and smooth, unmarked by pencil or ink. Curiosity kills.

Without thinking he nonchalantly picked the unmarked message up and stowed it away in his brimming saddlebag. Jagged returned his attention to the front and found that he had missed the end of the lesson. This only deterred him slightly, as all the good parts had already finished. Attempting to shrug off the mysterious letter, he reorganized his binder and pulled out another piece of lined paper in preparation for the second lecture on the wonders of Discord.

***

The perpetual cacophony of clinking plates and conversing voices was a relaxing din, and as Jagged brought the soup to his mouth and felt the warm broth slide down his throat to warm his stomach. He rummaged through his saddlebag and pulled out the unmarked message he’d found earlier on that day.

Class was long since over, and he had a two hour break before his next one started up. He was here at the university to gain a double major in Literature and History, and hoped to be a Text Historian and Analyzer if the future presented itself in a favorable fashion. He’d always had a natural inclination to knowledge; the drive had been with him long before he had acquired his mother’s necklace, ever since his mother, an intellect in all respects, showed him the library she worked at. Ever since then he’d been irrevocably driven to learn more, to stretch his mind to new extents. It had been a godsend that he’d been given the opportunity to work at the University’s library, a goliath of paper and binding in comparison to the quant one back home in the Far Northern reach of the Dome on the other side of the mountain.

He had fond memories of traveling to the University; shooting right through the mountain to the other side had been almost surreal. When he found the library there, he would have immediately shown his mother, if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had already passed on, taken by a rare case of Horn Rot.

With a sigh, Jagged flipped the envelope over and tore open the top. In a swift move, he tapped the covering on the table and allowed the message inside to tumble out. What he saw next filled him with wonder. There, scribbled in the messy jaw-writing only a hornless pony could create, a line had been written; but that was the normal part. What really stood out to him, really rattled his nerves, was the fact that the line was the same color as the Imperfection in the scrapyard. Blue! Somehow, through some arcane method, the writer of this message had taken the color from the Imperfection and put it on paper. The vibrancy was so marvelous, that Jagged almost forgot to read the actual note.

It said, in that scribbled jaw-writing:

‘Do you like the color blue at Twelve Noon?’

Peculiar. Flipping over the note to see if anything had been written on the back, and nothing was, Jagged scrunched up his muzzle in inquiry and re-read the message.

‘Do you like the color blue at Twelve Noon?’

It was only after a third read through that the cryptic message revealed its meaning. It seemed as though the writer was asking him to go to the Imperfection at Twelve Noon… to meet him or her, but why? It was that simple nagging thought that kept him from springing up from his seat and heading to the spot immediately. Why him? Was it something to do with his necklace, or maybe the questioning nature he’d adapted; could it be a representative from Discord’s Court luring him in so that he too could be Purged; his death celebrated in a national holiday for years to come?

As always, it’s the questioning that kept him in place; the possibilities that bad could come out of a new situation always made him hesitate. He didn’t like that fact about himself, but it was something he had to live with; better safe than sorry. For what he knew, not a single sole in Avalon was aware of what was happening to him, where he was going. He was very secretive, and ensured that all tracks that could jeopardize his activities were cleaned up. The fact that somebody knew about his private spot chilled him to the bone.

He was about to tear up the letter and forget about it, when his damned necklace began to prompt him to get up and figure out the truth. He lowered his half empty bowl and began to walk out of the cafeteria, tucking the letter away for keepsake. Carpe Diem. Curiosity kills.

***

The streets, more than ever, were empty. The fact that there was not another soul in sight was unnerving, and only went to reinforce the fact that for the first time, Jagged had seen the streets of Avalon when everypony was at work or school. Jagged had never been a slacker; he prided his work, and strove to be as punctual as possible, but with the recent happenings, he’d lost some of that punctuality.

As Jagged rounded the base of Avalon Mountain, the bleak walls of the Scrap Yard came into view. The bleak walls which ironically hid something so beautiful within, that all the mundane and blatant plainness in Avalon could not stifle it. The Imperfection, and now, the mysterious writer of the note was concealed by those bland walls as well.

His routine of pulling the ladder out gave him the reassurance that the mysterious letter writer hadn’t arrived yet, which was good. He preferred to get their before anypony else, as it allowed him to feel a bit more in control, and often enough, gave him some time to prepare himself.

Hopping over the fence he fell lightly on the mattress below, bouncing once before coming to rest on its downy surface. With a content sigh, he arose and began to make his way towards his resting place. Closing his eyes as he entered the small clearing, smiling foalishly to himself, he walked towards the direction he thought the mattress was in. Was the sky pure blue or impure blue today?

Before he felt his mattress, however, he bumped into something else. The dog; it definitely felt organic, it was silky smooth and had a warmth of its own- it smelled sort of sweet though. He realized with a start that he hadn’t been confronted by the beast yet. With a smile, he opened his eyes… and the smile crumbled, being replaced by a tense line that both showed embarrassment and insecurity. There in front of him, giving a verging-on-lewd grin, a pegasus… with flared full-fledged wings—

His observation stopped there. This was something else; he’d never seen a pegasus with wings before… or at least not full wings, as all the pegasi nowadays had small deformed ones that didn’t help them to fly. Actually, most simply got them removed, as they were unneeded appendages. But not this pegasus, no, her wings were full… and metal? His observations were again digressed as the stranger spoke.

“Well hello there, Stallion, feeling a bit friendly?” The grin split into an all-out perverted smile.

Jagged sucked his breath in and blushed deeply.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I had my eyes closed and…” Jagged stuttered.

“Mhmm yes, I’ve heard that one before,” the Pegasus interrupted with a disbelieving roll of her eyes.

Jagged knew that his only salvation left, lest he be inflicted by total embarrassment, was changing the topic. Uncomfortably shifting his eyes from the females piercing stare, he mumbled something under his breath and pulled out the message.

“Did you write this to me?”

He lowered the note so that she was forced to break eye contact with him. As she lowered her gaze, her stare turning from seductive to analytic, Jagged let out a silent sigh of relief.

“That I did. I’m impressed you came. What took you so long; you’re nearly ten minutes late.”

“Can you blame me for being slightly apprehensive?” Jagged retorted. “I don’t know who you are, what you want from me, or how you know where I like to spend my alone time.”

“Alone time?” her voice, contradicting her eyes, still retained that seductive quality to it. “Well, I should have peeked in once or twice.”

Jagged clicked his teeth as her sentence soaked in.

“Not like that. When I’m over here I look up at the Imperfection and think.”

He pointed to the blue far above. The pegasus followed his hoof.

“Then you’re the right stallion, I thought Rust was right.”

“Sorry, what?” Jagged questioned, his ears perking at ‘the right stallion’ and ‘Rust’; questions started to trickle into his racing mind.

“What, what?” the Pegasus exclaimed.

“You said I was the right stallion for the job… and who’s this Rust you’re talking about?” Jagged queried.

Instead of answering his questions immediately, however, the female circled the edges. “Oh, I do like informing the newbies on what exactly I’m doing confronting them in these secluded places. You should sit down and open your mind a bit. You deserve some answers. I’m here to give them to you, so long as you can listen.”

As the female sat on the surface of the mattress, Jagged hesitated.

“Oh, come now, Stallion, I don’t bite- unless that’s what you like; and if that’s the case…” she drawled off and began smiling predatorily again.

Jagged gulped and scratched the back of his mane before reluctantly sitting next to the dazzling pegasus. He squinted a bit as her chrome wings reflected some of the light from above, and felt another question rise to the forefront of his conscious.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how do you have wings?”

“Oh, these?” She flared them out, reflecting the light back at him in abstract patterns. “I have Rust to thank for that. He gave them to me,” the Pegasus explained.

“Rust. You keep mentioning his name. Who is he?”

“I’ll get to that in a second. If I drop it on you all at once, I think you’ll feel a bit overwhelmed. Hmm, where to start?” There was a moment of silence as the pegasus assessed her options. “Could I take a closer look at that necklace of yours?”

“I don’t know…” Jagged replied, feeling the apprehension boiling up from his chest to be caught in his throat.

“Pretty please?” the Pegasus whimpered.

Whatever laced her voice now seemed to do the trick, and reluctantly, Jagged unchained the necklace from around his throat and handed it over. When it caught the light, it shimmered with a diffused glow. When Jagged again looked up from his keepsake to stare at the pegasus, he took note of a new look that had fallen over her face, softening her features into a picture of practical innocence.

“What is it? Is it what you were looking for?” Jagged asked, wondering why he sounded so hopeful.

“Yes, yes it is. Wow! I- I can’t believe Rust was right. I mean this is… wonderful!”

She pounced on Jagged, pinning his body under her shaking hooves; her eyes were ablaze with raw elation.

“Rust had said it was true. I was more than apprehensive, but it’s here, it’s true, it’s right in front of my muzzle. Rust was right, that wonderful bastard! I can’t. Believe. He was right.”

The pegasus’ eyes got really big-like a foal-and she stared deep into Jagged’s; he couldn’t help but stop his squirming and stare back into her depthless orbs. Though he didn’t make a habit of staring deep into pony’s eyes, hers did look subtly different; he could see a spark in there, a notion, maybe an idea. He wondered in an offhoof way if he had the same sort of eyes as hers.

“Sorry, what is it?” Jagged pondered, breaking the silence that was becoming a bit stifling- and more than a bit uncomfortable.

The pegasus rolled off his chest and stared up at the Imperfection. Jagged followed her gaze, and for another moment, silence ensued. It was the pegasus’ turn to rupture the atmosphere.

“I can see why you like it here, Stallion. Blue is such a wondrous color.”

From the corner of his eye, Jagged could see the pegasus’ wings beginning to unfurl.

“I wish I could fly up there, Rust had said it was so freeing, so…” her voice cut off, only to return in a hushed note, one stooped into a level of intimacy that surpassed seduction; she was as in love with that color as Jagged was. “Stallion, what if I told you that I, Rust and I and rest of em’, are trying to make the whole dome blue?”

Yet again, Jagged found himself caught off guard, and he rolled over on his side to gaze curiously at the pure gray pegasus, who in turn lowered her gaze to meet his.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. What’s your name?”

“Jagged,” Jagged replied, nodding. “And you, what’s yours?”

“Jade.” The reply was given in an almost secretive fashion, as if her very namesake was a threat if too many ponies knew about it.

“That’s a nice name,” Jagged said sincerely.

“Thank you. Now where was I…” she drawled off.

“You had mentioned making the whole dome blue. What does that mean?” He was genuinely enthralled; the very concept of so much blue was fantastical- it almost felt fictitious.

“Of course, I get so ahead of myself sometimes. But I digress.” She took a breath in, and then exhaled; it smelt sweet, just like her…. She seemed to be preparing herself for what Jagged scotched up to be a long-winded response. “This dome, this prison, its ponies, the state… everything. It wasn’t always like this. There was a time long ago where there was color, where there was thinking; intellectualism, the whole shebang. There was a time when the ponies didn’t like the Dome; the years had worn on them and as disillusioned as they might have been about the outside world, they were still drawn to it. Now I’m by no means a historian, Rust has only told me so much, but I’ll pass it on to you and you can choose how to take it.”

Another moment of pre-emptive silence descended on the two ponies, and Jagged shifted his position to a more tentative one.

“When things started looking bad, when Discord began suppressing the unrest, an order was created, led by none other than Rust. Many rumors surround Rust, how old he is-if he’s even still alive-as the only way to get in touch with him is via a TV screen in the Prompting Hall… oh, sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

Jagged smiled dismissively.

“Not to worry. Please, continue.”

She cleared her throat.

“So, this order was created, and it was called the Knights of Valor; their credo, their purpose, per se, was to stand against Discord. Long ago, when they still had some ground in Avalon, they were known by the other civilians as the Guardian Angels; those shrouded ponies that were behind every big protest and riot. Alas, as time went by, even the order lost the fight; silenced not by losing its member’s, but by losing the ponies it strived to liberate. They had become Sheep, Jagged, and the Wolves became feared. Any act of speaking out was extinguished by the ponies themselves, Discord didn’t even have to raise a paw.”

“Why are you telling me all this? Where do we fit in? Why me?”

“I’ll get to that in time, Jagged.” Jade explained, sighing. “I’ve got to build the foundation before I drop the house.”

An odd analogy, but one Jagged understood. Reluctantly, he bit his tongue and gestured for her to continue.

“Thank you. For a long while, it seemed as though everything was lost; that there was no point in fighting anymore- then we came about. Rust calls us the Elemental Incarnates. I don’t really know what he means by that, but it’s something to do with our necklaces.”

Jade looked down to where she had dropped Jagged’s necklace mid-ponce and gave it back to him. With a relieved sigh, Jagged took it from her grasp and snapped it back into place around his neck, smiling at its familiar weight.

Getting up suddenly, Jade reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a matching necklace- almost matching, actually, as the design engraved on the front formed something jagged, shooting out of something fluffy. Two unknown objects that strangely felt so right together.

“See, I have a similar one as you! They differentiate only in the design, and apparently, there are four others who have identical necklaces to ours. I don’t know why I’m supposed to bring them together, but Rust seemed rather insistent. Somehow we’re going to make the dome blue, Jagged. So you’ll join us then?”

“Wha- what?” Jagged spluttered at the sudden question. “Do you expect me to simply drop everything in my life, my education, my commitments, and just join?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.” Jade replied a bit too bluntly; her tone aggravated Jagged to no ends. “What’s the point of a so called ‘education’, or ‘commitments’, when you know what you’re doing is only going towards fueling a fabricated system?”

She had a point, but Jagged wasn’t so easily convinced. Getting up to stand nose to nose with her, he said: “Life isn’t like that. If I were to just disappear, don’t you think suspicion would arise? And these Elemental Incarnates you speak of, you don’t even know why you’re looking for them. Blindly trusting anything is as a bad as ‘being a sheep’, as you had put it,” he prodded.

“I’d put my bits in with Rust any day. I tell you, Jagged, he knows things. He sounds like the sort of pony I’d want to side with. Think of what we could do, Jagged. Don’t you want to open the eyes of your peers, your family?”

Definitely not, that directly contradicted Jagged’s philosophy. He would feel so guilty to pass on his sickness, his questioning nature, to some bloke who’s more than happy with the world he or she lives in.

“No. I’d only cause problems. I would hate for any other pony in this city to know what I know.”

“So you’re selfish then?” Jade growled.

“Actually, I’m generous. Why disrupt the preconceived concepts that the majority of ponies hold so dearly to their hearts. Ignorance is bliss, you know. I often wish I never began questioning things in the first place.”

“So you’re a coward.”

“No! You’re all wrong with your accusations!” Jagged’s temper was beginning to flare up. “All you know about me is that I’m Jagged, and yet you act as though you’ve known me for years, as if you know who I really am. I’d recommend you stop throwing such foalish accusations my way and take a second to think, Jade! You know, that thing you apparently do.”

“You’re bucking unbelievable, did you know that?!” Jade hissed, taking an ominous step towards him; he flinched a bit as her wings spread, tripling her size. “You act as though you're ‘looking out for the ponies of Avalon’, when really, you’re hurting them; allowing them to ‘blindly follow’ a fake way of life, a hollow way. Why don’t you see that? Are you afraid; I know you’re afraid, Jagged, I can see it in your goddamn eyes; how disappointing.”

“Just let me go home.” Jagged said, feeling as though the upper hoof he’d been given in the debate had deteriorated hopelessly.

He hated to admit it, but when she had mentioned that he was afraid, she’d hit the nail right on the head; Jagged disliked when his underlying motives were exposed- it made him feel naked.

“Just let me go home so I can think on it. It’s a lot to take in. It’s just, it’s just too much.”

In a sudden action, Jade’s anger deflated, and she lowered her wings to gaze dejectedly at the ground.

“I’m sorry, Rust.” She looked up to stare into Jagged’s eyes; her own were a bit damp- she looked hurt. “I suppose I should be saying sorry to you as well. I failed to convince you—“

“It’s fine, Jade; I’m just not ready for this. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying no, I just…” Jagged’s voice drawled off as her sniffling made his heart plummet.

“Ok, I understand. Listen, if you reconsider the offer, and by Celestia, I hope you do, walk to the abandoned alleyway by your dorm and knock by the hole in the pattern of that old foal’s rhyme you always hum. It’s how we know you’re friendly, ok?”

“Yes, yes of course. I have to leave now, Jade, I might not see you again, but, well… bye.”

Jagged shut his eyes in frustration; he was well aware that the way he had closed his sentence was pretty lame. He felt as though Jade deserved better, but in all honesty, his mind was racing so fast at the moment that he could hardly think straight.

“Jade-“

His re-attempted farewell was cut short as emptiness met his gaze. She’d disappeared, most probably flew away. All that was left was the Scrapyard, a severely shaken pony, and an Imperfection- gazing down on the dreary scene with an omnipresent glance. Next Chapter: Rust Estimated time remaining: 16 Minutes