The Price of Wings

by Arcict

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure, Discord, Princess Celestia, Human, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Princess Luna, Original Character
Length: 57926

A human from Earth is invited through a portal to Equestria. But nothing is as it seems and he soon finds himself surrounded by more questions than answers. Can he survive long enough to learn how to fly, and, what will it cost him to do so?

A human from Earth is invited through a portal to Equestria. But nothing is as it seems and he soon finds himself surrounded by more questions than answers. Can he survive long enough to learn how to fly, and, what will it cost him to do so?

Simon Carbuncle Baker is a failure, practically a college dropout who does not appreciate his family nor his education and definately not the world around him. Can he find the magic of friendship and, more importantly, can it help him sort out his problems?

I know "human in Equestria" has been done to death but I hope I can do it right. Part of this is my own "lets explore Equestria" as well as trying to explore (my version) of a few things that never really got explored. Be warned, this is "post season 3" so there IS an alicorn Twlight in this. That said, most (like, at least 90%) of my characters are going to be original characters.

Published 2013-07-21 02:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-09-02 19:57:38 UTC

chapter 01: "indiscernible"

The Price of Wings
Written by Arcict Gray

Chapter: 01, “indiscernible"

Dusty Legend did not like his job, oh the pay was good enough, the hours were fine (he could all but choose his own) but there were certain aspects of the job he just couldn't stand. The location of his office was one of them.

Down one of the old forgotten corridors of the Canterlot Royal Palace was a stair that led down to the lower levels, down one of the offshoot tunnels laid the wing of forbidden archives. After showing the guards his ID Dusty walked past several locked and sealed alcoves and chambers, the contents thereof a mystery even to him. Indeed, he rarely heard anything except the occasional guard coughing or, on rare occasion, one of the corridor’s doors opening. Through a small door that led to one of the minor chambers, where nopony would bother him and where he could work in private, that was his office.

Dusty had once compared it to something that only wished it could be as big as a broom closet. He had graduated from not one but two prestigious colleges with considerable honors, he was well versed in customs from all across and beyond Equestria, and he was the most knowledgeable about his own job. Certainly these things merited a bigger office.

No such luck, Dusty resigned himself yet again and slumped into the only chair in the office, immediately in front of the only desk in the office.

Dusty sighed and levitated his saddle-bags over to one side, simultaneously removing a wrapped parcel from within as he did so. Dusty hesitated, looking the parcel over, it was bigger than he’d had expected, had the slacker actually fulfilled his latest request? More likely he'd just gone and written even more in his typically abysmal hoof-writing just to spite the overworked unicorn's request.

Unwrapping the parcel, Dusty lit a nearby lamp and was surprised and pleased as he read the first few lines of the first page…

Report: October 18th 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

As per the orders I received earlier this week, I shall again set quill to ink to rewrite the reports that I have written over the course of the past couple of months since my landing. While my aching hoof would complain yet after re-reading them myself I have found them to be horribly illegible and almost unreadable even to me (which is saying something, I'm usually pretty good at reading my own writing) to the point that I actually desire to rewrite them.

Thus, wanting to make these things both official and useful (not to mention my own desire to please the powers that be) I comply with the orders.

Dusty Legend brought the lamp closer and set it up on a small shelf. He also levitated out the bag that held his lunch, finally he was going to be able tell what the little twerp had been writing all these weeks.

Re-written Report: September 24th 2012

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

It has been five weeks since I landed in this strange land and assumed a native form. I know this is my first time trying to write but I have been given all day to practice so I hope sooner or later -indiscernible- will get easier. While I find it -indiscernible- that nobody asks me what a word means anymore when I ask that it be written down yet the lack of scribes from moving to Ponyville (I still laugh at that name) means -indiscernible- have to write these myself now.

For the record, as I know that my previous entries would -indiscernible- yet I want it stated anyway, -indiscernible- first time I could request a copy of the records being sent back to me (see above). I make a repeat of my -indiscernible- thus.

It was -indiscernible- ago when those six strangers came to my house and implored entrance. They -indiscernible- with their stories but the things their leader performed, basic telekinesis and -indiscernible- incredible. I knew enough about illusions and "magician's tricks" from a little history and such shows like "The Masked Magician" to know that they couldn't have been faked, I spent over an hour puzzling them over when I first -indiscernible-.

I wish I could say I know every trick in the book, but I do know enough to know that a stranger couldn't have set up levitating a book without -indiscernible- preparation ahead of time. I checked for everything I knew of to prove it wrong, magnets, strings, I even tried to pull it away. Nothing worked, it held firm against my strength and weight.

While my family was -indiscernible- yet I admit that I was enthralled. They said they were looking for someone and they gave some -indiscernible- of the qualities they thought were necessary to go through the portal. I admit, they seemed to describe me well enough though there were some -indiscernible- I disagreed with. After they concluded that I was likely the one best suited for exploration they began explaining their mission. They were looking for candidates to act as -indiscernible- for our world as part of starting up an outreach program meant to bridge our two worlds. Effectively a “first contact” person, -indiscernible- that’s the impression I got.

I was shocked, I am no diplomat, no agent -indiscernible- nor am I a highly trained -indiscernible-. I supposed the most I could do was to simply stay on my best behavior and let hope things worked out. They seemed adamant, the more we talked the more they seemed convinced that I should go and be an ambassador to their world. I admit, I let my curiosity get the best of me and I started asking details about the immediate future, why and how, as much information as I could get. It grew late and they wanted to return to “the portal” as soon as they could. Indeed, knowing what I know now I realize just how anxious they must have been to return here.

I do not regret traveling with them back to the place where they said the portal was. While I know I was not surprised to see that the portal was actually there yet I was surprised to see so many official looking -[-indiscernible-. It took at least another hour's deliberation with the authorities from my country before they let me through. Honestly, I don’t think they were the ones running the show. Though now that I think on it, to be an ambassador means to work for the President of the U.S. directly since he’s in charge of that department. But he wasn’t there, either to appoint or even look me over or anything. That if anything makes me really -indiscernible- wasn’t running the show as far as the portal was concerned.

Another thing that worries me though was how little they seemed to care about my background and such, the guys from my home that is. They seemed to be relieved at my political neutrality and lack of any extremist motivation. I can't remember all that was there, agents of some kind, a lot of them, but I do remember meeting Brian Majors who told me about the project. At first I thought that having the acronym S.P.A.M. was just a -indiscernible- but he told me that it was intentional. Anybody that looked into it deep enough would get a bunch of crap info that meant nothing and didn't lead anywhere, spam, in other words.

I thought at first that this might be a fairly flimsy kind of security but then I realized that a project of this magnitude is probably going to have a lot of people if not operating it than at least studying it in some way. As such the odds of someone hearing or receiving something they shouldn't are probably higher than the odds of the project being deliberately hacked into or spied upon. I feel like a test subject now, expendable. If it weren't for the replies I get from home, I'd have to wonder if these reports were even -indiscernible-.

This unnerves me some because it means that the relationship between both sides has been going on for some time, long enough for it to reach an organized balance like this. But at the same time, it feels so haphazard to just send some random non-initiated civilian through the portal just because six explorers from the other side say so. Something is going on here, something I’m not seeing and I would like to know what it is. Someone acted, and I suspect it was not part of the plan.

Finally they let me see the portal itself, it was fairly unimpressive, green, glowing, spherical, but unimpressive. I said my goodbyes and promised to write, a promise I have managed to keep ever since I left, scribes notwithstanding. *(see following attached note)

Some might wonder about the -indiscernible- concerning spheres as a portal and the angular -indiscernible- going through one. I recall a video I watched online some time ago about how to turn a sphere inside out. I suspect something along those lines is -indiscernible-.

True enough, even as the six had claimed, neither they nor I am human on this side. The change, for me, occurred as I went through. I stepped into it in one form and stepped out of it in another, as fast as stepping through a doorway.

I was honestly not expecting such a big change and I know I shut down for a few minutes in shock and everything shortly after I arrived. I feel kind of embarrassed about it though. I thought that I had a mind that could handle just about anything and yet changing bodies like this shocked me so much more than I had expected it to. I thought it would be all "Cthulhu can choke on my mind" and instead... I folded like wet tissue paper.

Sometimes I think the only thing that snapped me out was when I heard someone mention "wings". This was something I guess I wanted to hear and so, it helped me to awaken from my stupor.

There are so many things for me to report on though, as much as I know I insisted on writing my own report, but now that I’ve started I think I will take up the offer to have this dragon "Spike" (I believe that's what his name is) to transcribe it for me instead. Then again, I have to wonder how long his little hands can last with how much I want to have written. I admit, simply seeing a real dragon is one thing I would have wanted just from coming here. True enough though, if I had my way, I'd rather simply BE a dragon... but whatever, I've got my wings now and that's good enough for me. Spike is smaller than I (-indiscernible- anybody else from my world) expected but apparently he's a baby so that's cool, besides as a Spyro fan -indiscernible- too shocked, surprised but not shocked.

I'm still not entirely sure why everybody made such a fuss over my gray-tones when I first got here, they cleared up and gave way to my colors quickly enough but they still haven't told me why they made such a deal over it in the first place.

Looking back, I feel that some have misunderstood my initial report. I did not arrive in Canterlot, I arrived in Ponyville, the library to be exact. If I recall (-indiscernible- hazy) we took an overnight train to Canterlot. It was a very tiring day afterwards. I think that's where the confusion -indiscernible-.

Though I admit Canterlot seemed too stuffy and definitely way too -indiscernible- for my tastes yet -indiscernible- never complained about it. Was it something I said? Why was I moved back to Ponyville after so short a time in Canterlot? Nobody will tell me why I was moved out here. It makes little sense to me to have myself moved to an inn in a small town separate from (if relatively close to) Canterlot. I humbly request to know why I was moved to Ponyville.

For that matter, I never got to do much “ambassador-ing” or anything while I was in Canterlot and I doubt I’m going to be able to do much here either.

I was given two assignments with my relocation. The first assignment was to start researching Equestrian customs and traditions as well as its history. The second was much more enigmatic, I was told to try and make some friends while I was here in Ponyville.

This seems quite odd to me as my existence is still somewhat unbelievable to just about everybody here. But to try and actively go out and specifically get to know somebody would all but require letting them in on my history, which would get awkward really quickly. To further complicate the matters, I don’t have a cutie mark despite obviously being an adult. On top of all this, I am apparently forbidden from mentioning anything concerning the portal or my origins to anyone not already in-the-know about it.

Good luck me making friends then. I'll be too busy saying "classified" to half of their questions to make any friends.

The simplest solution is to simply forgo the second assignment until an appropriate opportunity presents itself and focus on the first assignment until then. It’s not like I don’t know how to work alone.

I prefer the solitude. Talking to oneself is not a sign of madness, it's a sign that that's the only way one can get intelligent conversation.

While I find the people here are generally friendly, I also find myself once again torn between navigating social nuances and simply wanting to... well, study everything. It's all so new, it's like stepping onto campus for the first time all over again. It was suggested that I try simple social interaction by getting to know the same six that originally came to my world at least gives me a place to start but I still consider it of lesser importance for the moment anyway.

When I mentioned this to the librarian (Twilight Sparkle) she went practically ballistic on me. I tried several times to made a decent argument but I don’t think I convinced her. While she makes some good counter-arguments herself, yet I still find myself too socially awkward to really bother with it right now. I don’t want someone to be my friend if I’m just going to leave them or something, it’s too painful. And I’ve already been forced to leave Canterlot, what if I’d already made friends there and then left?

As such I can’t focus on that until I know where I am and where I can stay. I can’t focus on finding and making friends until I know I’m going to be able to keep them. She still doesn’t like it, like the fate of the world might rest on it or something but still, it’s just the way I am, I’ve had too many times where I could have made a friend and then they left and I was alone again to just go up and change now, it’s too painful.

And it’s not like I haven’t been doing things my own way for several years now anyway, why she made such a big deal out of it I shall never know.

As of today though, I regret nothing, I complain about nothing, at least nothing that’s happened since I’ve come to this world. I've said my good-byes and my hellos and as soon as I get better at this hoof-writing thing I will write home.

Already, my arm, or rather foreleg feels weak from all the writing I've done tonight. A pitiful excuse compared to the number of notebooks I've burned my way through back home. After finishing this I'm told I need to get to the new room they've set me up with at the inn.

I request to know more about the importance of the commands I was given. I do not believe that I was allowed to come through strictly for my own research nor do I believe that making social relationships is of any major significance other than for my own psyche but I will not know until I ask or otherwise get more information, hence I am now asking, duh.

I also request knowing more about the excitement concerning my monochromatic syndrome and the subsequent “coloring” of my body within those first few minutes after I arrived here. While I have no complaints about my color yet everybody was making such a big deal over me not having any when I first stepped through and nobody's told me why as of yet.

Dusty had to admit, when he'd read the original report he'd never made it past the second paragraph before giving up. That request near the end stunned him though, the little colt had actually thought to question the orders he'd been given, and even tried justifying defying them. Though not appalled by this, Dusty found himself considering whether they had really made a correct choice in allowing Cobalt to come through that portal. Even so, he couldn't help but feel more enlightened by the additional information this recently re-written report gave him. The insights into their first explorer since the nasty business with that disastrous trio was more curious and observant than he'd expected. Even so, Dusty feared that too much curiosity and observation from this one could spell the failure of the project.

Dusty noticed a tiny note that was attached by a small clip to the corner of the last page.

“have you been sending on my notes to my family or are you waiting for me to re-write them before doing so?”

Dusty swallowed, feeling guilty, while it was true that they couldn’t send on the notes without being able to read and copy them first yet he still wondered how Cobalt would take it when he found out.

Re-written Report: September 28th 2012

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

Despite my practice I am still bad at hoof-writing, and all of these weird horse words and stuff still trip me up. I shall ask for a copy of this transcribed with better handwriting. Sorry, hoofwriting (actually claw-writing since I think I'll ask Spike to transcribe it later). I think I might have to promise that it's just a small list, I don't think he's quite forgiven me for the epic report I asked -indiscernible- for me last Friday.

A few words I have noticed that would be helpful for future explorers or those seeking to know more about this world.

Nag - a derogatory word, used effectively the same as the proper word for a female dog. Though using the term "nagging" is not as bad as the “-ing” of said word and is instead used more like it’s used back home, it's still considered a rude word in some instances.

Pluck - strictly a pegasus word (I still can't believe I am one, Eeeeee!) that, though it is roughly negative it is also flexible in just how negative it is. For Example, "Pluck me" is relatively equivalent to "bite me" while "pluck-that" is more like the phrase "forget that" or “get rid of that”.

Stag - fittingly enough, used to describe a male of the equine (or in some cases, any) persuasion, though its use is a little more complicated than just that. It is mainly used similar to how we would use the word "dog" or "stud" either as a compliment or as an insult, or both. "you stag!" turns into "you dog!" or "you stud!"

Magic – Magic, or what I prefer to call “extended ability”, is usually only referring to an extended ability that extends beyond the physical frame. For instance, a Pegasus’s “extended ability” to walk on clouds is not considered magic but a unicorn’s ability to make their own horn glow or that telekinesis thing of theirs is considered magic. Apparently there are others that can do magic but when compared to the humans, everything’s got at least some kind of extended ability here. This extended ability seems to permeate all intelligent creatures and even some non-intelligent ones, even to the point that when someone starts singing and everyone else agrees with the song, they’ll start singing in too, even if they never learned the words! It’s strange, like it really is magic, or at least some kind of emotional resonation of some kind. When asked about it they seem to think it’s simply a natural aspect of life! Reminds me of when my little sister saw “High School Musical” and mom had to tell her that people don’t just start singing like that in school (she’s homeschooled).

Ley-line - this appears to be a natural kind of energy that occurs in just about anything that lives around here, like the blood vessels. Apparently these connect with the body's physical capacity somehow and allow for the "extended abilities" for lack of a better word (I still refuse to call it magic) of just about every intelligent creature here. Apparently the ley-lines in a pegasus is what allows them to fly as well as for a unicorn to do whatever the heck it is they do (still not calling it magic).

Hay - while hay is common enough on farms back home (I get reminded so many times how glad I am my allergies are gone) the hay that is here is slightly different. Sometimes it refers to really REALLY cheap (like Ran Cossack cheap) bundles of semi-random grass and other edible plants and other times it's a bit more complicated, like the word "ruffage" back home (Spike says I'm spelling it wrong, I don’t care, looks good to me). Both of which indicate only a semi-random assortment of edible greens. Hay does not always contain grass but when it doesn’t it tends to be more expensive, not that anybody seems to care much.

Sometimes a large collection of plants of the same kind or even a collection of mixed greens with no grass (or alfalfa or anything) included is also called "hay" Hay itself, is eaten by just about everybody everypony I mean, and when it is sold it is almost always sold in bulk. This body has such a high metabolism that without having something to eat every now and again I'd apparently likely get an ulcer or something, I know I certainly feel weak when I can't get something to eat. Hay solves this by providing a REALLY cheap thing to chew on until they can get to something more nutritious later on at actual meal times.

Hay-fries - finally something I can really relate to. Despite the name, they’re basically French fries! Ironically enough, the reason they call it "hay-fries" isn't because it's made from hay but because they guy originally wanted to call them "straw-fries" because of their yellow color but forgot the difference between straw and hay and mixed them up! Think about that, even HERE where they EAT THE STUFF that kind of mix-up can still happen. The biggest difference is that there isn’t any salt put onto them, there’s a reason for this.

Bit - A thin gold coin used as the basis of their currency. I still have NO idea as to its actual value, sometimes I'd estimate it at about 50 cents but other times I'd guesstimate it at nearly 5 dollars! Part of this is due to the lack of written prices. Back home if the price is written down then that's exactly what you pay for it (except for taxes) no more and no less. Here there is more of a weird kind of haggling system sometimes, especially for the "outdoor" vendors that don't own any permanent structure for their ships, indoors it is much more stable (no pun intended, eesh) but there can still be some haggling involved sometimes.

Spur - a silver coin, exactly 1/20th the value of a Bit. Strangely, they started using them some time ago, then, about 50 years ago or so, they stopped, and have only recently started using them again, though given the value of the bit, use of it is fairly rare.

Favored - a pony's favored side is also their handedness (figures, they keep saying "hoof" instead of "hand" or "foot" or anything) so I am "right-favored" rather than "right-handed".

foal - while a foal is generally considered a really young horse back home here the term is used more like “kid” or “child” and they use the term “newborn” to indicate one that is less than one year to six months or so.

hoof - the hoof is basically a foot but also considered a hand to the people of Equestria. Effectively the fore hooves are considered both hand and foot while the rear hooves are considered to be just feet. The hoof (vernacular) itself is made up of three main parts, the upper part called the fetlock, the hoof proper which is a bony fingernail like structure wrapping around both sides and the front and finally the third part is a thick rough bulge that makes up the center and rear that the “hoof” grows around and is called the pad.

Grabbing things with the hoof is accomplished in one of three ways. First, you can wrap your hoof around an object or hook it into an opening like the handle of a mug. Second, small or thin objects can be fitted between the hoof-wall and the frog, the middle pad of the hoof. This must be done with some caution, it's a bit like holding an object by jamming it between your finger and finger-nail, too much pressure and... OUCH! Third, there is a kind of... almost magnetic... hoof-gravitation power, earth-ponies are especially good at this. I suspect that, as a pegasus, I might get decent at it... eventually. Unicorns generally don't need to be good at it because they can just use telekinesis. All ponies can use their mouths for... well, to hold just about anything really.

Both the "wall" and the "frog" of the hoof leave unique signatures behind like fingerprints.

I knew there some were more I wanted to list but this being the first time I could actually write them all down, I seem to have forgotten some of them for the moment. Ah well, I'll add to them and write them down when I remember them. As it is -indiscernible- is definitely short enough that Spike should have no trouble transcribing it if I ask him to as I mentioned earlier.

Re-written Report: October 3rd 2012

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

This report is more for home then for Celestia or the portal authorities. Many of the holidays seem to correspond to a variety of holidays back home. I can't help but wonder why such connections would exist though. What is really weird is how many names they use that we do too. Months and days are all the same here as from back home. This leads me to believe that there are connections between this world and my home world that we have been completely unaware of thus far. For the most part, everyone I ask about (which isn’t very many considering how few know about the portal in the first place) seems to be unaware of any connection other than the portal itself.

An interesting thing to note, one "moon" is 5 days. Apparently there is never a "new" moon, there is right-crescent, right-side, full, left-side, left-crescent, and that's it. Though astronomical things are... a whole can of illogical worms I do NOT want to get into.

My own theories cannot agree with the idea of any truly parallel dimension, let alone why there would be so many similarities in a dimension that is so different. It is odd, the one thing that is the most common in fiction is the one thing that my theories dislike the most and yet here we are, with a dimension that seems so similar and yet, so different at the same time.

This brings me to another very VERY startling discovery about these people.

They call this planet, Earth.

I have some fairly startling and mind boggling theories about that. I'm being serious, my typical theories are such that nobody wants to hear them, they just stare blankly and don't want to bother with them but this is one that baffles even me, and that doesn’t happen very often.

I shall try asking somewhat about this world's history and see what I can find out.

Dusty cringed as he read the last parts of that last report. He knew from the dates what they were approaching. When the subject had started showing signs of being too curious and too inquisitive they had opted to put a stem on the amount of free information he'd had access to. He also cringed because he knew the backlash they'd gotten for it. If only these reports had been better written to begin with they might have had more time to deal with the situation.

Re-written Report: October 5th 2012

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

I can't get a straight answer out of ANYBODY!

I tried asking around about the world's ancient history but Twilight keeps making excuses about most of the books being unavailable because supposedly the local school has checked them all out.

I don't believe a word of it.

And that's it, real lengthy report here.

Dusty cringed again, he now knew just how much Cobalt had been holding back in his reports. He also knew that Cobalt must still be feeling sore about it, this report was one that had not needed rewriting, so he knew that the only reason Cobalt had to rewrite it was because he'd wanted to. Dusty hoped that the sheer desire to have an excuse to rewrite this one wasn't the reason he'd rewritten the rest of them.

He’d begged and pleaded and there were reports from others that he’d done a few sneaky things to try and get the information anyway. Ms. Sparkle had actually reported that, despite the fact that he couldn’t fly he’d somehow managed to enter a restricted wing of the library from a high window. She’d had to telekinetically throw him out, which for some reason he seemed to enjoy, despite his failure, apparently taking pleasure in even a brief simulation of flight.

Later, as Dusty was aware, Twilight had put a shield around the historic sections of the library to keep Cobalt out and inform her of whenever he tried to enter. What had surprised them was that other than when he touched the thing to see "what the shiny wall was" Cobalt hadn't even bothered trying to get past it.

Despite this, the main reason why Dusty cringed this time was because he saw now the missed opportunity they’d had. Cobalt had dropped the issue but had also stopped wanting to talk about it, cutting them off from that part of himself, and his reports had become... colder, shorter, more detached. The interpretation was clear, Cobalt didn’t trust them anymore. If only his reports had been written better they could have known much earlier how serious this was. Being given mere minutes to come up with a decision was guaranteed to be much worse than if you had days or even weeks to do so.

Inwardly, Dusty even felt sorry for him. Cobalt, despite being obviously angry and having no allegiance to Equestria and they, having lost his trust, had still calmed himself and apparently had deliberately chosen to bite his tongue and bide his time rather than risk offending anypony.

Re-written Report: October 7th 2012; 1375 FE (Founding of Equestria)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

I got to meet Princess Luna yesterday, last night actually. I got to see the moon do a little jig, then it melted and turned into a lake on the ground.

That's right, she was in my dream. This wasn't some fantasy dream either, I was fully aware and remembered it later. I even received a letter this morning from Celestia confirming that the dream was indeed real, Princess Luna can access my mind through my dreams. Whether doing so requires me to be aware of it or not I do not know.

Trying to process all the stuff I thought of last night gives me a bit of a headache but at least it's not as bad as it was when I was seeing it happen. I admit, I went a bit crazy trying to figure it out, it's like giving an engineer a problem they can't solve with ducktape.

I made a deal with Luna, if I manage to achieve full Equestrian citizenship then I will be allowed to know about the deep history, the times before Equestria was founded. That’s the information that I was being kept from. At least now I know what the information is if I really want go looking for it, but having a deal like this seems better to me. I don't think there is anything wrong with me merely knowing something, nor do I think that knowing such would alter my thinking in such a way as to ruin why I’m here or something.

Can a deal made during a dream still be legally binding?

This is kinda bittersweet because the U.S. probably will not recognize Equestrian citizenship. So what do I do if I want to purchase land? Run a business? Get married? Will the guys back home just up and say "we don't recognize this" and... I don't know, declare it illegal or something? I know I'm in Equestria so they don't have much say here, but they do have international policies I've got to worry about.

So many legal land mines.

Though this led me to another question, why am I here? No one, not even Luna would give me a straight answer as to just why I am here, instead of some well-paid diplomat or an daring explorer or an astronaut, or a ragtag group of adventurers or something. It's just me (that I know of) and that doesn't make much sense to me.

Luna also told me of why I was sent to Ponyville (ugh, that name, I mean, come on! There's literal and then there's just pushing it) or rather, why I was sent away from Canterlot. I admit that it makes sense now that it got explained to me.

Canterlot, being the capitol of Equestria, is often visited by rich and powerful people from all around the world (usually just from neighboring countries but still) and that if any of them saw me or overheard something about where I am from it could raise some unpleasant questions or worse spark an unpleasant incident or even lead to a war of some kind or something.

The idea that I could be anyone important, even if it's just because of where I'm from makes me glad for the retreat to Ponyville, fame and fortune is pain and torture as far as I am concerned, not that I’ve ever been popular but still. I learned back in high-school that the easiest way to avoid getting stepped on is to be as invisible as possible.

It kinda makes it easier, being here. If anybody from Earth (my Earth) came through the portal they wouldn’t recognize me and I could just fade away from them without ever needing to talk to them, just another pegasus walking away from you. Of course if they knew what to look for they’d recognize my blank flank in a heartbeat.

I cried again, writing this just now when I realized that I don't even recognize my own face. I managed to hold it off better than usual this time, it only lasted for several minutes or so.

Though this brings me to another problem, Luna told me to obey all commands given to me, including the one to make friends.

She also told that I will be leaving Ponyville soon, I don't know where they're going to send me or why. I hope it isn't back through the portal. I’m sorry about how adamant I was trying to figure out about the history thing and beyond that I've done everything I can in order to obey every rule and order I've been given, even if I haven't learned how to fly yet.

That's the real cruelty, I really wanted to learn to fly but my wings are still a little well, I don't know what's holding me back, they're not
"too small", they're not "too weak", maybe I'm just too fat and out of shape. I guess that's what I get for being bred, born and raised in the third most obese state in the country. Despite my attempts to go trotting around I still haven't lost much weight nor gained much muscle. My back hurts when I run too much though, I've gotta see someone about that if I can.

This is depressing, on to another topic.

The world is governed by those with the greatest amount of magical power. Arguably, if a pegasus had enough power they wouldn't just fly, they could simply command lightning to strike and it would, they could control entire weather fronts on their own, extend their powers even beyond all that! But apparently the overall power of any pegasus is typically much less than that. Oh well, I’m not greedy, I mean, I want to fly, but ultimate power? No I just don’t care for it.

Each nation achieves stability typically through the magic of a single powerful being or source, the holder of which is also typically said nation’s ruler. Sometimes though national stability it is achieved by a court or council system, a collection of semi-powerful beings. The rulers must establish more than just cultural or national stability; they need to achieve temporal and atmospheric stability as well. The reason for this is because, apparently, the world doesn't want to live. The world they live on must be made to live, magic wants to be neutral, non-active, or otherwise doing nothing, and the rest of the world wants that too. Places of too much magic, like the Everfree Forest are too wild for most ponies or other natives, but for the rest of the world, if they want life to grow there, it's going to need some magic.

Even the day--night cycle relies on magic in order to work properly.

Typically the more peaceful and prosperous nations have either a single (hopefully benevolent) ruler that takes care of most or all the magic necessities, or have some other organization to keep things in order, using a kind of "collective magic" to keep their lands alive. In many ways Equestria follows the former, the two sisters take care of the temporal but they don’t argue and squabble over issues, they might as well be one single ruler. Some weaker or smaller nations rely on having stronger neighbors to take care of large necessities. The day-night cycle the princesses provide doesn't just affect Equestria.

While this means that many nations can seem tyrannical in nature yet I also know that several weaker beings, banding together, can and sometimes do topple more powerful leaders, creating either permanent or semi-permanent council based rulerships. This often results in a kind of balance between the power of the ruler itself and the power of the subjects. Slavery does exist, especially with beings that are either too weak or too few to manage their own escape. From what little I could glean before I was cut off from the early history books, some groups of the early pony civilizations were forced into slavery, long before Equestria was formed. In any case my information on that is sketchy at best.

Naturally, nations that can simply “get along” tend to have the most stable borderlands.

To complicate matters more, some rulers like having things be eternally dusk or always dark or always shining or whatever. Sauron would love it, or at least his orcs would. And there are plenty of other creatures and beings here, griffons and minotaurs and dragons and all sorts of beings! I wonder if they’ll let me take out a book describing the various creatures that are on this world.

In this country the most powerful beings are the alicorns. There are four Alicorns that I know of; Celestia whom I met when I first came here and multiple times since then; Luna whom I technically met when I first met Celestia but whom I never got a chance to actually talk to until last night; Princess Mi Amore Cadenza who lives in the far north known as the Crystal Empire with her non-alicorn husband who also happens to be the brother of the fourth alicorn, Miss Twilight Sparkle herself, a simple librarian.

Although, given what I know of Miss Sparkle, both her attitude and her being an alicorn, I can say one thing is still a truism, “You don’t mess with angry librarians”. :P

The alicorns are a bit of a mystery, some of them are super powerful and apparently immortal, like Celestia and Luna, while others are merely more powerful than average like Princess Cadenza (Twilight calls her Cadence for some reason). Then there is Twilight herself, not the most powerful of beings but apparently trying to discover and study “the magic of friendship” as she calls it. This might explain why she was so adamant about me following the command to make friends.

Re-written Letter: October 13th 2012

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

Dear mom and dad,

I wanted to write this though I know my writing still isn't very legible yet, I am still practicing with this whole -indiscernible- thing.

I am sorry I haven't written much since I went through the portal, at least not directly to you but honestly, I haven't been confident enough to try until now. I hope you aren't too worried about me. Things are going well, despite all of the social differences that surround me every day here. In some ways, the people are so friendly it becomes a bittersweet reminder of my own social awkwardness while at the same time I actually do feel welcome.

Despite these things, I still have not achieved much while being here. Oh I work hard and do what they tell me to, they even pay me for sending in those reports if you can believe that. I may not have learned how to fly yet but at least I learned how to walk. That is what was causing my back problems before, I wasn’t walking right and it was straining my back.

Technically I am a quadruped but this body is MUCH more flexible than just that. As an Equestrian my body has a kind of "natural" body position and several ways in which it can move “unnaturally”. Very unlike horses and ponies from home my legs are actually thicker near the "hoof" than they are at the base. This I believe is due to the body's need for extra flexibility. In some ways, I'm more like a cat than any kind of equine.

Despite the fact that everybody here is basically equine in shape (and in their nomenclature) I find it reassuring that nobody, and I mean NOBODY grazes. It'd be as weird as a human grazing (grass is edible BTW, even back home, it’s just useless for nutrition) or something but here it is considered demeaning at best, like begging or something, only done if you are absolutely destitute and desperate for food. Everybody buys or grows their own food. Because of all the flora that are now more edible to me (Milkweed is apparently only poisonous if you eat too much of it now) I almost feel like I'm actually more omnivorous than I was before.

Mom, I know I took for granted getting certified as a Phlebotomist but I can honestly see the merits now. Not as an occupation, as a way to get me used to blood.

I believe that, due to the lack of carnivorous tendencies (they're herbivores after all) that that is the reason why there is such a high rate of hemophobia around here. Apparently about 1 out of 20 or so are quite hemophobic

While technically they are all herbivores yet there is a strange observation I have made about them that would result in some people back home definitely calling them NON-herbivores! They do eat animal matter, though not meat exactly. I know that there are some that think that milk is taboo to vegetarians but not to these guys. Milk, cheese, even butter is sold, bought and consumed here. As for being herbivores, well they’re all ponies and that makes them mammals so they’re all going to end up drinking milk sooner or later anyway.

Most startling though are the eggs. Eggs are also consumed here at least as often as they are back home. In some ways it’s like the only kinds of animal products that they’ll consume are the animal products that are meant to be consumed. With eggs this seems a stretch but it makes sense to me because the yolk and stuff IS meant to be consumed, it’s just meant to be consumed by the chick, not an outsider.

Also, I’ve already asked, despite having feathers, pegasi are born, not hatched. We’re ponies with wings, not birds with hooves.

Not that I expect it, but if we ever meet on this side you'll know me because I'm one of the few that isn't a tint or pastel. My color is something of a deep ocean blue with a white mane and tail and, both of which feature a green stripe and, as you already know by now, I’m a pegasus. My fur color is also not completely solid, near the hooves, the tip of my nose and the tips of my wings (tips of the feathers) the blue slides toward a deep amethyst.

You'll also be able to recognize me because I'm one of the few with turquoise eyes. You'd think that with so many different eye colors here (seriously, from purple to yellow, green to liquid-blue and all in-between) that there wouldn't be so much fuss over simple turquoise but apparently I remind them of some alter-ego Princess Luna used to have or something a few years ago. Apparently during her "bad-girl" days (sounds like a goth-teenager phase if you ask me) she had some really turquoise eyes or something like that.

Some of the mannerisms around town are weird. For instance, sometimes it's perfectly okay to just bury your head into your food and chow down. You should be proud that I generally don't do that. Oh I'll try just about anything once, but still, and no, before you ask, no, they don't do "breeding" or such here. They get married like any intelligent being and are generally expected to stick together that way so yeah.

It is uncanny how like us they are, as well as how different they are. I think that is one of the things that I should be a truism, nothing will startle you more than to know how different and the same they are.

There are so many things to investigate, so many buildings and places, even those that I already recognize, that still demand that I explore them... there’s even a mental hospital. I think I'll pass on that one, too many horror stories from back home of people getting locked up even when they're not really crazy. It's small though, with their abilities to see into your mind or maybe even probe into it and poke at it a little I guess most mental disabilities are relatively workable, if not curable.

It would probably be fun (if I had the time) to compare the kind of mental diseases that they have that we don't like comparing the social based mental disorders from different countries in like Japan or China or something which as I recall, don’t have Dissociative Identity Disorder. But even more interesting will be seeing what kind they DO have that we also have but that they can cure and stuff.

Humor and good feelings are very important to these people. Parties and other “feel good” kinds of activities are commonplace and sought out, even more so than back home. I'm kind of a party pooper in that regard. I don't participate as much as maybe I should but I still feel embarrassed sometimes so I just stick to my well-practiced wall-flower techniques.

Eesh, now I feel like a Naruto ninja or something, sticking to the shadows with weird sounding techniques. Speaking of which, one oddity I never got to the bottom of, just about everybody here owns a full-body black suit or something. Despite their determination to be "good" little ponies there sure are a lot of opportunities for sneaking around and stuff. Weird.

I know my name, and I know it is a good name, but it stands out WAY too much. I mean, everybody has considerably literal names, in some cases these are personally selected nicknames rather than real ones. So I have decided to come up with one. I mean honestly, Twilight Sparkle? Fluttershy? Rainbow Dash?! No parent back home would name their kids this and yet these guys see the names not as embarrassments, and not as things to flaunt either but as names, plain and simple. It's when you have a name like mine, with a meaning that isn't immediately apparent that stands out and makes me look weird.

I suspect it has to do with their cutie-marks. Apparently, when you get one, you have a special party and can change your name. It'd make sense to me if, when that tradition got started, the youngsters (you get your cutie mark when you're pretty young) started picking progressively more and more literal names for themselves. Making the practice commonplace now.

Everybody around now calls me Cobalt Skies. I like it, it gives me hope that someday I will be able to fly and it goes with my colors too.

I hope that you are well and I hope that I can hear back from you some time soon.

Sincerely
Simon Carbuncle Baker (AKA, Cobalt Skies)

If you are reading this then you have come to the end of my re-written notes, please hit the rewind button or keep playing the tape to the end and the tape will automatically rewind, thank-you.

Dusty Legend sighed as he sat back in the chair, reading through all these re-written reports had taken over two hours. Even though they had been re-written to be more legible some parts were still difficult to discern, better than they were before but still hard.

"Carbuncle" Dusty said to himself as he levitated the papers, re-wrapping them up so he could fit them back into the saddlebag. "Not a bad name, I wonder if Clear Waters would like that as the name for his new foal. Eh, I bet his wife would probably never go for it though."

Sitting back, Dusty began the arduous task of refiling these reports so they could be copied and redirected appropriately. It would be at least another day before the next report came in but Dusty didn’t want the paperwork to start piling up any more than it already would with all these new reports.

Looking up at the clock he kept on a small shelf above the desk he sighed, at least another hour before lunch. Still, that gave him the time to get these papers sorted at least and then he could get started on the real work of refiling them after lunch.

Report: October 19th 2012; 1375 FE

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms, Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, Interdimensional Experiment; Subject Number: 01

As per command, I make one last report before relocating. I have spent a considerable amount of time around Ponyville trying to learn much about the culture of both of the small town and of Equestria itself.

I almost fear that this is all happening too soon. While I am anxious to get to somewhere smaller than Ponyville yet I also fear that it will limit my opportunities to learn more about Equestria and the rest of the world. I was in the middle of making another list (Spike still hasn't forgiven me for the previous one, despite how short I thought it was going to be) for terms that I feel I need to remember. I also fear that, without access to some of the materials at Twilight's library that it will be harder for me to make reports like these, she's always got the materials for writing stuff there.

I have taken the liberty of observing all of the six that went through that portal, doing so mostly as a form of curiosity as to why they were there at all. Of these six, few of them would qualify as genuine explorers of other worlds for they are each too tied to this world in one way or another. Oddly enough, it appears that the main reason why they went through was to accompany Twilight because they thought that if Twilight got cut off on the other side of the portal that she’d need them. While this kind of dedication I can definitely appreciate it still sounds reckless to me.

Eh, who am I to talk, I practically leapt through it once I got the chance.

Here are a few observations I have made about the world and about Ponyville.

-While there is an apparently high number of females (mares) to the number of males (stallions) in this town, yet this is something of an illusion. This illusion is mostly due to the ruling powers all being female. I do not feel "less" as a male for it, but I find it interesting and curious.

-Despite this, I have not found any female that “stands out to me” per se’, I guess I’m just too busy with the whole study and learning thing going to really care about such matters. If I were "in the market" as it were, I would need someone that would understand me and, thus, I fear I might be limited to someone that was also from Earth... my Earth. The most painful thing I keep running across is that I can't make one reference, no movies, no books, no television shows, no internet memes, and definitely no videogames, nothing that has come from Earth that does not also exist here can be referenced to because nobody will get the reference.

-Most of the guards and such are both stallions and monochrome and while many seem to be pegasi (with a few unicorns and even an earth pony or two) yet I have been unable to hold even short conversations with them. (Think, "British royal guard" or something) Honestly if I didn’t know better I’d say they were just golems or mobile statues (robots?!) or something. Rumor has it that the only reason why they are guards in the first place is that they are from some noble line or some warrior clan or something and the princesses have nowhere else to put them so they just stuff them all into the royal guard and let them sort themselves out. That, makes way too much sense. The guards apparently have no real skills or abilities that couldn’t be outdone by the very alicorns that they are guarding and very few earth ponies have any kind of royal or noble lines, also most unicorns are more focused on magical study than noble lines, so yeah, where would they put them all?

-Along with females, another illusion presents itself. In Ponyville, it appears that earth ponies outnumber the pegasi and unicorns by at least 10 to 1. Apparently this is also an illusion, I noticed a considerable preference for unicorns in Canterlot.

-Despite all this, the Ponyville residents all do seem to have at least one common redeeming feature. Everypony in this town is crazy. I’ll actually be a bit sorry to leave this town. :P

For some time now I've managed to hide my lack of a “cutie mark”, though I have also managed to use it to excuse myself from a few unpleasant things (like Pinkie Pie’s constant insistence that we FINALLY have a party for my arrival in Ponyville). I fear that if she keeps this up I won't be able to stop her from throwing me a party before I leave. While the right kind of party I don’t mind I really hate being center of attention and not having a cutie mark would only make things all the more awkward.

She apparently caught wind that I was leaving and made me “pinkie promise” (whatever that means) that sometime in the future I would allow her to throw a party for me.

I mention this because of another incident that happened to me. I had the unfortunate instance of running into some young fillies that immediately noticed the fact that I don't have a cutie mark. They noticed it because they are all so young that none of them have their own cutie marks either, a fact that seems to bug them incessantly.

These three fillies have formed a kind of club dedicated to finding their cutie marks and supposedly for helping others find theirs as well. Their initial reaction to seeing me was that of utter fear and nigh panic, apparently they worried that they could turn out as old as I am and still not get theirs. Their next reaction was to try and help me to get my cutie mark. I was shocked when I started hearing some of their suggestions. I can barely manage to write very well, let alone perform some of the feats they started suggesting.

I had to exaggerate and leave out many details of my life but I eventually was able to convince them that the reason why I didn’t have my cutie mark was because of how confining my home was. When I heard them talking about leaving their own homes to find their cutie marks I was shocked and I had to talk fast to head them off. I made up a history on the spot and told them that, while I could fly, my home did not allow me to do so, forcing me to stay indoors and not even use my wings. This seemed to help two of them but the third, the pegasus, didn't seem too thrilled to hear it.

This third, the pegasus of the group, cannot yet fly, which is surprising, because she can move herself and others on a scooter with enough strength that I'd expect her to be capable of flying to the moon if she wanted! I reiterated that I didn't fly because I wasn't good at it due to a lack of practice. With the mention of "practice" she seemed to perk up a little and I used that to continue steering the conversation away from what I couldn't do and towards the future... towards hope. I honestly don't remember what all I said, but I hope I left them in a better state than they were in when they saw me.

I told Twilight about all this when I made my daily check-in to write this report before returning to the inn. She seemed to take my concerns seriously but she mentioned something that surprised me. All three of those fillies have at least some kind of relation to the same six that came through that portal. Applejack is a sister to one of them as is Rarity a sister to another, and thirdly Rainbow Dash is practically idolized by that same pegasus filly that couldn’t fly yet. I am relieved that she took my concerns seriously because it means that they'll keep an eye on them to make sure they don't do anything dangerous.

All told, we seem to have lucked out, that is, I seem to have lucked out.

Tomorrow I leave for a small farmstead to the west that has agreed to take me on for the winter while I'm still adjusting. I guess this makes sense, I can't keep dodging everypony forever. I have a lot to learn and I need more time to do it. The farmstead is closer to the portal facility than Ponyville is.

As much as I don’t think I’ll like moving at least they're not sending me back through the portal. There's really nothing for me over there other than my family I guess. I have written to them again before leaving but I haven't told them even a fraction of everything I've learned since I got here. I might need to go over it all again just to make sure I remember everything!

I have to go now, it's late and I need to get to sleep so I can start (trying) to pack up tomorrow, not that I have anything worth packing really but still.

Cobalt slowly returned the quill to its place next to the bottle of ink and replaced the bottle's lid. He was tired and breathed slowly as he rested his eyes a bit, they were nearly as sore as his right foreleg was, the latter from the long report and the former from staying up so late. It was nearly a minute later when he slid from the stool and bid Twilight and the rest of her crew goodnight before leaving.

The walk back to the inn was fairly short and the dark meant it would be easier to prevent people from staring at his blank flank. The inn keeper didn't like it when Cobalt came in late but as it was he didn't care much at the moment, he was too tired. Cobalt slunk past the inn keeper's front desk and rose up the stairs toward his room where he promptly went about the night's ritual of getting ready for bed.

As he began drifting away to sleep he found himself thinking aloud…

"I am a pegasus in the magical land of Equestria, and one day I am going to fly."

Author's Note

I've been doing a lot of thinking and reading... okay, listening (audiobook). I've been reading/listening to Fallout: Equestria, Fallout: Equestria Pink Eyes, and Fallout: Equestria Project Horizons.

While I have no plans for emulating these works, yet they are somewhat inspirational and I can personally testify that if you want to write better, read better.

Because of that, some of you might have noticed a few changes, yes, I have retconned a few things, not much, but a few pesky things, like how you grab things with hooves. It's less restrictive now as well as more streamlined with the ending I intend. When I originally began, the ending was a simple "I want to stay here" kind of ending. Now it's... a tad bigger.

chapter 02: "how I got these scars"

The Price of Wings
Chapter: 02
"How I got these scars"

Written by Arcict Gray

Journal entry: October 25th, 1375 FE

Well, I'm on a farm now. Before I left on the train (the ride over was fun BTW) I managed to purchase a journal and some writing materials, hence this entry.

I am still a little miffed over the whole history thing and being banned from researching it and stuff. It’s clear that Celestia doesn’t want me to learn something, unfortunately, I haven’t a clue what it is. She did let me take a book from Twilight's library (it's due back before the end of next month) that covers from 1300 (a few years after Ponyville was founded) all the way back to 15 BFE (Before Founding (of) Equestria).

This tells that what I'm looking for, or rather what is being kept from me, is either in the most ancient or in the most recent history, and therefore not covered in the book. I suspect that it's the former, ancient history. I believe that whatever is being hidden explains why they also call this planet Earth. It seems most likely that I am not truly the first being to travel from my planet to this one. I suspect that Equestria has made contact with my planet before.

But if that be the case, why try to hide it when it is so obvious?

I suspect that exploration is not the only reason why I’m here. I’m not an ambassador, I’m and experiment. The only thing that makes me feel any better about this is that it might yet be a fairly big experiment. But big or small, I’m still just a rat in a maze... with no cheese (maybe my wings?). But, if that is the case, am I not thinking my way out of the maze just by figuring this out or is thinking about it just dragging me further in?

That’s just paranoid thinking. If I doubt my own thinking then I’ll just end up trying not to think and that’s not going to help me. The only way to win is to figure it out before it gets to me, find the end before the end finds me.

Reminds me of that one game whatever it was called, where you lose by thinking about it. To me, the only way to win the game though is to figure out the game, so you MUST think about it, you never win unless you're willing to risk failure. If I ever find someone who knows about that game, I'll tell them what I found by deliberately losing it, If you can't win a game by default then the game is faulty and you are given carte blanche freedom to play it however you want.

I'll tell them that I played that game... and won.

It’s maddening though, I know where the information I’m looking for is but I’m forbidden from going after it. If I try breaking that rule I could get kicked out completely (I lose) so what should I do, stay and try to think my way through or really risk losing and try looking it up anyway.

I think it depends on how I want this game to end. If I don’t care how it ends I can just do whatever I want.

No, I DO care, that means that I HAVE to make sure that the game ends the way I want it to. That means that if I go breaking any rules (or laws) I need to make SURE I don’t get caught unless I actually WANT to get caught.

But I don’t want to go back, that much I DO know.

So, that’s rule number one of this game, don’t get sent back.

I guess orders or commands from Celestia (or Luna for that matter) could be considered rules but, they’re more like... the circumstances of the game, not the rules of it. The rules are things less likely to change, the circumstances change all the time.

There are so many possibilities that wind up with me being sent back, especially if I start breaking the rules. That being the case, simply thinking my way through the maze rather than taking any actions is my best bet for now. Other than the whole mystery in the history there’s nothing else that really bugs me here.

Maybe that’s why they relocated me, to keep me from trying to look into this whole history mystery thing.

I might as well take advantage of the book while I still have it, if it's interesting enough I might even have it finished by the due date, otherwise I'll just have to skim through it. I mean, it's not like it's another Physics Today book or anything, but still.

Is it odd that I find other people's history more interesting than my own?

My new home is a small farm owned by Red Pepper (I swear, these names sometimes) but he's married to Orange Giant. The farm grows a variety of things in their main garden (yes, he specializes in peppers) but in the back is Orange's private garden, nothing but pumpkins there, really big ones too.

This cutie mark thing fascinates me, while each seems unique yet there is a long history of cutie marks throughout the ages. If I get bored with my other history question I might try looking that one up instead. In theory each cutie mark is unique to each pony though there are rare occurrences where a cutie mark has a twin or near-duplicate, true duplicates are apparently very very rare. That said, there are some well known cutie marks that have shown up multiple times throughout history. Looking up a cutie mark's history is one way of understanding what it means, though it apparently varies from one pony to the next, meaning something a little different each time.

I guess there wouldn’t be much point in looking them up until I get one, if I get one.

We had dinner at Mr. Pepper's place. Despite the fact that everybody has a kind of nickname and even use it as part of their real name sometimes, they also have a kind of "house" name that works like the last name from back home, only they rarely ever use it. That would mean my "house" name is still "Baker", not that it matters, my family and specifically my family name is not what I am running from.

Anyway, Mr. Pepper's house name is Melon (again, these names sometimes) so I had dinner with the “Melons”. Because they don’t have a room for me (and because it's still warm outside) I'm literally sleeping in their barn, the loft specifically. Because I told them I would be staying up later to write they gave me a little legume hay to munch on if I got hungry. It wasn't until later that I realized something.

"I'm a horse, sleeping in a barn, with a belly full of hay; mom would be so proud."

That's what I told myself.

Then I laughed of course. A simple horse doesn't have wings, and the hay isn't what I'm eating so much as just chewing on, and I climbed up a ladder into the loft, something a horse from Earth would never do. (I could join the circus!)

Actually, it was hard not to cry, this world is so foreign, it’s so strange and I get reminded every day that I don’t belong here. But that’s what hurts, I want to belong here and yet, sometimes things just seem to close in and I can’t help myself.

Home. I just can't stop thinking about that one word, home. I say "home" when I mean "the other side of the portal" but that can't really last. If I want to stay here then, sooner or later, this needs to be "home" to me.

I'm tired and it's been a long day (not to mention that I'm running out of daylight anyway) so I'm going to cut this short.

First entry, Cobalt Skies.

Over the next few days Cobalt found himself getting up with the dawn, if not sooner sometimes. With the lengthening days the Melons actually got started on the morning chores before the sun was up, and that meant Cobalt often got an early wake-up call.

"So," Cobalt said, not sure how to start that morning’s conversations, "did you know that we don’t have cutie marks where I’m from?"

"It is pretty hard to believe" said Orange Giant, not looking up. Instead she kept her attention on selecting the tools she wanted which she deposited into a bucket so she could, as she usually did, carry them off to the garden. "Then again, so are a lot of things about you, and yet somehow we're supposed to teach you about some of the basics of life in Equestria, or at least farm work, not sure why with you being a pegasus and all."

"Well, I mean, if I understand correctly," Cobalt said, following her as she headed out for the gardens. "The cutie mark is what ultimately determines what you do right? So, pegasus or not I could still use these skills, er right? I mean, it sounds a bit like a caste system or something but, er, is that right?"

Orange turned to look at him this time.

"You really don't have cutie marks where you come from, do you?" Orange asked him.

"No ma'am," Cobalt said "I dunno what they are... really."

"It is there to show what your special talent is." Orange said.

"And, is that your only talent?" Cobalt asked. "I mean, some people are pretty talented, some seem to have lots of talents right?"

Orange seemed to think about this a bit, slowing in thought as she carried the now full bucket over to the garden.

"You can have many talents and many skills." Orange said, "but they're usually a part of what you are on a whole, and that's reflected by your cutie mark. Even if you learn a lot of things, that's what you're best at."

"But, what if…" Cobalt said, "what if you change? Will your cutie mark also change?"

"Not to my knowledge." Orange said.

"I've always thought that, if given enough time, people could accomplish anything." Cobalt said. "That is, assuming a person had forever, they’d eventually grow to... well, into a perfect being really."

Orange was silent for a bit.

"Maybe," Orange said, "but we all have to start somewhere, that means that we’ve all got to take their own path to get to where we’re going. Even if we were all destined to be alicorns, we’d all have to take our own path to get there, we wouldn’t all be the same. I mean, look at the alicorns we’ve already got, they’re all pretty different”

"Well okay I guess." Cobalt said, trying to take it in. "Still, I wish I had any idea what mine might be…"

Cobalt got quiet, saying the rest under his breath "…or if I can even get one."

The day continued as they worked on the garden, Orange using the bucket to carry the tools whenever she wanted to move them all together and only taking them out one at a time. Cobalt marveled at the evolution of this and wondered, with his home world’s ability to manipulate plastics, could they be able to develop tools that were easier to handle. His mind wandered, thinking of ways this world could benefit from his home world’s technologies.

While he was between daydreaming and helping with whatever Orange called on him for, Red Pepper came back with a hoe to help chop up small weeds that were cropping up. Despite the lateness of the season he was determined his garden be weed-free.

"You aren't weeding the other one?" Cobalt asked Orange eventually, looking over at the garden in the back, the one full of large pumpkins.

"I work on that one myself." Orange said "it's my garden after all."

"Oooookay" Cobalt said, not sure how to take that but feeling a definite sense of territorialism.

Orange smiled softly, noticing Cobalt’s reaction "it's not like that. I’ve got a special talent with pumpkins so Red lets me have a garden just for pumpkins, all to my own. That’s why we moved away from Ponyville, my family home was in town and didn’t have much land for farming or working a garden or anything."

"You used to live in Ponyville?" Cobalt asked before he could stop himself.

"Yes we did," Red said, "But it’s hard to compete when you don’t have enough land to raise much more than a few pumpkins and maybe an ear of corn or two. Ponyville may be a small town but her family home was too ‘in town’ to be useful for farmland. And because it is a town, the land around there is more expensive. So, we came out here, only a few settlers around here so there’s plenty of land for expansion and it was really cheap too.”

"Ponyville is a bit of a... small town with... a lot of farmland around it." Cobalt admitted, “at least, a lot of the land around it has already been claimed I guess.”

"It's a nice enough place." Orange said, noticing Cobalt's deliberate attempt to avoid being mean to the little town. "But we came here, and it has helped, we don’t make much, we’re still just a small time little thing but still, we do alright. It's small enough that we can grow our own food and pool our produce together to sell the best of what we’ve got over in Ponyville after each harvest and split the profits."

"So, you go to Ponyville to sell your produce?" Cobalt asked, “actually I guess you’d have to, this trail doesn’t seem to get many visitors to sell to so...”

“The Harvest Festival is a profitable Ponyville tradition,” Red Pepper said, “Every farmer gets together their goods and tries to sell them off. Many small communities near Ponyville, like ours, will head on into town to sell whatever they have and buy whatever they don’t have. It also helps that the Apple family usually has their annual family reunion around that time, so they're either away, which means more money for us because they've got all that squared away, or more potential customers because they come to Ponyville to celebrate it. The trick is to come out of it with more bits than you spend there. Over the next couple of days this whole community will be baking and canning and brewing and mixing everything together to make stuff to sell during the festival.”

"Interesting," Cobalt said.

"The only problem is that when we came here we realized that, well, the Burners live just down the road," Orange said.

"The Burners?" Cobalt asked.

"They're farmers, like my husband and me." Orange said, "but the mare, Pumpkin Pie, she's also got a pumpkin cutie mark as well so she also raises pumpkins like I do in my private garden, that means that we’re often in direct competition. Even though we pool our stuff together and then split up the prophets when we get it all sold off we often find ourselves in competition with one another."

"Not… the same pumpkin cutie mark?" Cobalt said, uncertain.

"No," Orange admitted "but it’s kinda disheartening because we had hoped it would get easier when we left, but with them here, well it makes profiting from pumpkins a problematic proposal."

"But, if you've both got a knack for it," Cobalt tried, "then why don't you just both work the same patch together? Or is there like some kind of rule or something preventing that? There’s not a feud is there?!"

Orange had to think about that a bit.

“No, there’s no feud and certainly no rule or anything.” Red said when he realized that Orange wasn’t going to respond immediately.

"Well no, no there isn’t," Orange said "I mean, she's never been a very... outgoing neighbor but... I always thought that was because we wanted to keep things... fair... between us. I mean, if we've ever shared more than three words with each other they were little more then 'hello' and 'good bye', but never mean-like or nothing."

"But, if you did then?" Cobalt tried, “farming the same patch together, that is, sharing recipes and helping to prepare and... well, and cook and bake and all that jazz.”

"Then we'd probably em grow even bigger and better… and MORE pumpkins then we ever would alone." Orange said finally. "we… We'd even make the job easier because there'd be two of us! What’s jazz?"

“The most evil music you could possibly imagine.” Cobalt said, trying to keep a straight face, “but I guess there were various types of it so the phrase and all that jazz means, basically, everything else that just goes along with it, whatever it is.”

The day continued, Cobalt being recruited to help with some of the chores, including weeding and harvesting some of the few remaining plants from the gardens. While Cobalt was thankful that the Melon's diligence kept most of the weeds from being too large, even so, pulling up weeds by mouth was no fun, and trying to do it by hoof without a tool was nigh impossible, and Cobalt was still too unskilled to properly use a tool with his hooves. By the time he was done, his mouth was fairly sore.

"It's not just the little pokes." Cobalt said as he joined them for dinner, recounting for them how the day was. "It's also the strength, you guys must have amazing jaws for this kind of thing."

"Well, we're not unicorns." Red Pepper said, "it's not like we can just levitate everything we touch."

"I wonder what it'd be like to be one." Cobalt said in an off-hand way.

"It don't do a bit of good to go wondering things that can't ever be and don't make sense anyway." Red Pepper said in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "All it does is make you lazy and foolhardy."

"No," Cobalt said, just as matter-of-factly. "It doesn't. But what it does do to you is much worse."

Cobalt didn’t elaborate on the topic and soon dinner was over and he was back to the barn to get some rest as the room he was supposed to be staying in was still not empty enough for anypony to really sleep or live in it. There wasn't much daylight left so Cobalt cracked open the history book to keep himself occupied until he had to squint under the fading light to read the words properly. Finally he gave up trying to read any further and used a small piece of straw as a bookmark to mark his place and went to sleep.

Report: October 30th 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

Things are going fairly well on the farm, I have gotten used to the chores enough that I have begun managing them quickly enough to have some time left over, so I have started practicing flying again. I realized today that one of the reasons for the transfer might have been that others seeing me practicing flying might have made everyone uncomfortable.

Being alone, or rather being surrounded by so few people makes things a little easier for me because I can flop around in the air (or rather, not in the air) and cause very little disruption to those around me. I feel a little disappointed, back home we have a holiday, Halloween, that occurs at the end of October which corresponds to this month. It's one of my favorite holidays and I wish I could attend this year's Nightmare Night but there are so few young ones here that they just go to Ponyville to celebrate it and everybody else stays home.

At any rate, my studies continue and while I can honestly say I appreciate the history book loaned to me from the Ponyville library I must say that I also find much of the history relatively boring.

I've been asking around and I found that one of the holidays coming up later this year is known as Hearth's Warming day. I also learned that there is a pageant depicting the events of Equestria's founding. I would like to attend one of the pageants if I could some time during the winter. Historic events are usually more interesting as pageants and plays than in dusty old books anyway.

Journal Entry: November 4th 1375 FE (2012)

Getting colder, of course, I woke up and actually felt shivers and didn't want to get up, or come out from under my blanket, despite the fur coat.

I tried to float or glide down from the loft to the ground, it didn't end well. It could have been worse, I could have landed on something other than my hooves but I still didn't glide very well; how does Knuckles do this? There is a trick to this I know there is, maybe I'm just out of shape or something.

Red started talking about finishing cleaning the upstairs room so I could sleep there. I feel uncomfortable about this, not just because of the imposition it would mean. I've been living in my parent's home and supported by them for years now, before I left that is, and I know how much that can make you feel like you can't go anywhere. It's a trap I don't want to find myself caught in again. I don't want to become dependent on these people, they're nice enough but that just makes the trap worse really, easier to fall into if I'm not careful.

Of course, I don't really have a choice, if this morning’s shivers are any indication then I’ll need a warm place to sleep at night and this barn just won’t do.

I’m helping them to move the stuff that’s up there, mostly mementoes from Orange’s kids that have grown up and left home. If I don’t help I’ll just end up feeling guilty. I can’t help but fear that Orange might be something of an empty-nester and that might make it a little complicated. I feel no ill will toward them, but I want to fly, I want to be able to stand up on my own, to be my own man and I can’t do that if I’m being coddled.

I can honestly say that I will never get used to having a cart hooked up to me so I can pull it around. It wasn't hard, just embarrassing and it felt degrading. There are only very few countries, I think, where people are so poor that other people take a cart and pull it themselves (rickshaw I think it's called). Everything else is pulled by a dumb animal or by an engine back home.

On the other hand (hoof, whatever) I suppose none of those here would feel that way. This body has a lot of power and if you don't find some way to harness that power (four legs and all of them are pretty strong) then it's kind of going to waste. Still, if mom ever saw me she'd have a total fit.

And it was a bit cool, watching the cart getting pulled around by just my own strength.

I am proud of the fact that I didn't complain and just let them do what they did and let me pull that thing around to wherever they needed it.

They don’t pay me very much, Dusty that is, once a week if I make a report and even then they chastise me if the report isn’t a very good one. I’m thinking of getting a candle or something so I don’t have to stop writing whenever it gets too dark.

I remember watching Twilight writing with a feather quill and me getting worried about what she would do if the quill got bent or something. I’ve had feathers pulled out before, in Canterlot, just so I would know how much it hurts so I would avoid it, a necessary pain I think, even so, I did not relish the idea.

I think the memory came back because I was thinking about candles and writing and stuff. I could just buy some ink and use my own feathers to write. It’d hurt but if I’m careful with them so they won’t break or anything it shouldn’t be that bad. Then again, if I’m patient they’re supposed to shed or molt naturally every now and again anyway. Aren't they?

Harvest time wasn’t easy for Cobalt. Most of the produce had already been harvested but the things that were still in the gardens were plump and heavy, causing Cobalt considerable consternation trying to figure out how to move them without damaging them. Retelling the daunting task seemed mildly amusing to Red, who had been doing his own harvesting and had filled almost a whole cart.

They didn’t stop there but instead went on to help some of their neighbors finish their own harvesting. As they continued, more and more of the local farmers joined in, moving together as a whole to help the rest with their own harvesting. There came a moment when Cobalt became aware that Orange Giant had slipped away from the main group, at first he wondered if she was off doing something secret, then he realized that Pumpkin Pie was also absent even though her husband was with the group.

Harvesting ended but that wasn’t the end of their work and they quickly set to the task of finishing up the baking and canning and other preparations for getting their food either preserved enough to survive the winter or spruced up enough to sell in market. Neither the festival nor winter would wait for nopony.

It took days before they were done. Then they had to fill the carts with all of the product they’d created, carefully placing everything into place and on a bed of hay so that minor bumps and pitches in the road wouldn’t mess anything up.

The next day Cobalt was surprised with a little gift. Red had asked one of the neighbors to take the old worn down blanket he’d used in the barn and re-sew it into a kind of cloak. It wasn’t very pretty, it was so old that its original light blue color had faded to all but a medium gray, but it was long enough that it covered his blank flank nicely. Cobalt thanked Red and wore it while helping to pull the carts toward Ponyville. It was fairly fitting, as a blanket in its prime it was thick and warm, but by the time Cobalt had begun using it was so worn in places that it made for a semi-decent, if worn, cloak.

The road they were on was long and wound around as they followed the railroad tracks into Ponyville. Cobalt asked Red at one point why they didn’t just take a train into Ponyville. Cobalt was surprised at his response because despite having at least eight full carts apparently there weren’t enough ponies living in their little community to justify having a train depot or even a stopping point along the tracks for them; Ponyville was the closest place where they could even get ON a train. this surprised Cobalt because there were at least two railway lines that went within 2 miles of the farm.

Cobalt at first was surprised that Pinkie Pie didn’t greet them with a surprise party, then he remembered that the community did this every year so she had probably already thrown everypony a party. Except for him of course, when he’d first come to Ponyville he’d learned that she had been expressly forbidden to throw him a party so as to help keep his presence a secret.

Cobalt was able to meet a few of the other locals that were part of their little community as they worked to sell and move inventory. Cobalt’s skills not being well suited for advertisement found himself, more often than not, drafted to help move large bundles of inventory or to help reorganize a shelf or display when some of the inventory therefrom got depleted.

The festival was the largest event that Cobalt had seen in Equestria and he soon had a new thought as to why Pinkie Pie had not thrown anypony a party today, the festival was the party. Despite sheer number of other booths and sellers that were at the festival, the inventory tent was emptied by more than half after the second day.

Journal entry: November 15th 1375 (2012)

Winter has come, well, not quite but it began snowing two days ago and it’s still coming. It snowed a LOT yesterday and we spent most of the day just waiting indoors and double checking all the edges and stuff. If I was back home with the propane heating I’d be tempted to crack a window (I hate the heat) but here, there’s just no way that I could risk it.

Unfortunately, this means that I don’t get nearly as much work or flying practice as I want to. There just isn’t as much to do as there would be otherwise.

Red can see that I’m antsy, being indoors all the time and he got a little frustrated with me and said that if I was really desperate to “spread my wings” (his words, not mine) then I could just go out there in the blizzard and spread them.

I didn’t, but I kinda wished that I had though, the whole day just seems a little wasted.

There is a bridge not much more than ten miles from here, an easy trot, I could just run up to it and back, a ten mile run wouldn’t be that hard, even in the snow.

That book led me to something interesting. I knew that Twilight and her closest friends were also the bearers of something called the Elements of Harmony. But what I didn’t know was that they were all forged from the same stone, something the book called an everstone. It elaborated a little into the overall rareness of everstones and describing both their suspected and witnessed power. Apparently, when the stone "matured" it was planted and formed a tree of some kind, and that tree formed the elements a long time ago.

That reminds me, I need to get that book back to Twilight before the end of the month or I’m probably going to end up minus a wing or two.

I asked Red about how the weather is managed since they have pegasi managing it. He said that the pegasi manage weather all over Equestria but they focus their direct efforts on the more densely populated areas, the weather here isn't as fine-tuned as it would be otherwise, a fact that just makes it all the harder to grow crops. That makes some sense I guess but he didn’t seem to know much about it. I guess I’d have to actually talk to some other pegasi in order to know more.

Red told us a story about his grandfather and how there used to be many more creatures that abounded from around the Everfree Forest. One of which, a “timber wolf” whatever that is (apparently it’s something different than just a “wolf” (timber or otherwise) that I recognize), came too close to the homestead (I forgot to ask if “homestead” was here or somewhere else at the time) and his Grandfather had to fight it off using a halberd. Apparently timber wolves are tricky things because they can like regenerate or something, you have to burn them to finish them off which is what his grandfather had to do.

I was in awe at the story but I doubt I could give it real justice myself so I’m not really going to try. I doubt “old grandpa’s stories” are really worth reporting about anyway.

Just as King Sombra’s palace in the Crystal Empire was split into a light side and a dark side, so too were there other places that held such shadowy secrets. Canterlot was one such place, and though Princess Celestia was certainly not forbidden to enter yet she rarely ever did. Even Princess Luna, who visited more often since her return, loathed doing so. The entire purpose of that place was not only recent, but felt entirely unnecessary. They had Tartarus, but... Celestia felt that it was excessive.

Without knowing the magic, a pony would have some difficulty in finding the way into the shadow world. Places were set up, out of the way, corners and nooks where nopony would likely go. They were set up in pairs, one, the first, was the trigger, and the other, the entrance. The trigger was a location that marked the pony there as able to go through the entrance, the mark only lasted for a few seconds, 20 at most, during that time, said pony had to reach the entrance location or be stuck and have to repeat the process.

Once inside the shadow world, the pony would be greeted by a grand and horrible sight, the Palace of Shadows. A prison in, under, and at Canterlot. A prison that only a select few ponies were even allowed to know existed.

The Palace was a thin and tall building that stretched high and was surrounded by a tall and formidable wall. Towers dotted the wall at the corners and at intervals along the sides. The palace proper was on one side, with a wide open area where a courtyard should be. Where the court yard should have been was instead a spiraling stone path that led down into the rock below, ending in a cave entrance. Behind the cave, Luna knew, was a twisty maze and labyrinth that was designed to mislead and redirect ponies further inside, to the belly of the cave. For it was the belly of the cave that was the whole point of the shadow world, the palace, wall, spiraling path and cave itself in the first place.

The belly of the cave was a prison.

The prison was separated into three chambers, the first of which was small and meant as a reception area. The second was large and grand, a cavernous circular opening where cells lined the walls along many many floors. Only the bottom three floors were empty, any attempt to escape and the prisoners would have at best a 4 story drop to contend with.

The third chamber was smaller, darker, and narrower, it housed fewer prisoners, but these were kept away from each other. At the back of this third chamber were a few small interrogation rooms.

There were many prisoners here, earth ponies that were chemically sedated, unicorns had their horns fitted with anti-magic restraints, pegasi had their wings chemically or magically paralyzed.

It felt wrong, most of these were or could have been good ponies.

Most, but not all, there was one that was definitively bad, that pony was Golden Scroll

Prisoner number 1372-001
Name: “Golden Scroll”
AKA: "Lord Sand"
Arrested for:
-ponynapping,
-murder,
-treachery of a national level,
-attempted theft of national treasure,
-theft of national secrets,
-conspiracy to commit theft,
-unlawful use of confidential information,
-multiple counts of arson
-possession of artifact(s) unlawful,
-theft of national treasure,
-interrupting legal flow of traffic,
-uncouth public behavior,

He was the only inmate that made the warden sweat.

Everypony was convinced that his anti-magic restraint wasn’t working properly, despite having been replaced no less than five times. He had, amongst other things, the uncanny ability to somehow know things about almost anypony he talked to, things he shouldn’t know, dark secrets those ponies often tried to keep hidden. Even when locked away in solitary confinement he could learn things about the guards and inmates that they had never told to anypony.

The guards were afraid of him, the other inmates were intimidated by him, and those were during his "well behaved" days.

As Luna entered and approached the back, where Golden Scroll was being held she noted a change, a shift in the atmosphere. The prisoners were usually jeering and howling, making a cacophony loud enough she feared what they could do with a "Royal Canterlot Voice" spell. This time however, they were silent, hushed, the faintest of whispers emanating from their cells.

And what made it worse, there was a strange familiarity to the whispers, like a rhythm or tone, like they were all trying to sing a song as quietly as they possibly could, as though they would get in trouble if she heard them sing it.

The whispers crawled through the cavern, bouncing unnaturally against the walls, almost multiplying as they did so. The whispers seemed to grow louder, stronger, piercing through even her efforts to ignore them, what was this magic?

"Princess Luna?" said a guard, snapping her out of a trance she hadn't been aware of even being in. The interruption had all but silenced the whispers, popping the spell like a soap bubble and pushing them back to their hushed and quiet tones.

"Yes, what is it thou desirest of us?" Princess Luna asked.

"Begging your pardon princess," said the guard. "But the prisoners... well, they've been doing this whisper thing all week and... and it looked like it was affecting you."

"We... I had noticed, what is the cause of this?" Princess luna asked.

"We're not sure... it's unnerving," the guard said.

"Yes, it is," Princess Luna replied. "Find the source, and keep me informed if there is any further trouble."

"Yes your majesty," the guard said.

Luna continued through the chamber and into the next, trailed by the two guards she'd brought with her and the pony she was escorting, Dusty Legend.

Usually there were two guards that kept watch over the inmates whenever they were in the interrogation room. Golden Scroll got four of the meanest and toughest guards the dungeons could afford. They were soon joined by the two following Princess Luna. The door to the interrogation room was opened and Luna and Dusty entered. There, in the back of the room, were two more guards, flanking the pony they had come to interrogate, Golden Scroll.

Golden Scroll looked at them with mild interest.

"So you've returned to my humble abode," Golden said finally.

Instead of replying, Princess Luna used her magic to take a few pictures from Dusty's saddle bags and placed them on the table.

"We have begun calling him The Black Rose" Luna began. "Pray tell, what dost thou know about-"

Golden Scroll merely laughed, interrupting her with a mirthless and jeering guffaw.

"You look good," Golden Scroll said when he was done laughing at them. "Are you eating well?"

Luna regarded him with clear disdain and disgust, but said nothing.

"I sure hope it wasn't anypony I know," Golden said, then began his derisive laughter again.

Luna didn't respond, Dusty kept glancing at her, like he expected her to do something, say something, anything.

"Oh, hello Dusty, keeping her bed warm?" Golden jeered.

Luna almost leaped at Golden Scroll after that. "You spiteful cur!" She hissed.

Now it was Golden's time to do nothing, just sitting there, legs bound up in a straight jacket, watching the pair of them.

Princess Luna, after a few moments fuming, managed to regain her composure and continued.

"The third neightional bank in Manehattan was robbed by this pony, but nothing was taken," Luna pressed. "We know it was one of yours that did it. Tell us, why was one of your ponies robbing a bank if they didn't want to take anything?"

"Do you really think they would want to?!" Golden said, disgust dripping from his words. "I gave them more than you ever offered!"

"You were the one that brought them here!" Dusty said loudly, earning a blank stare from Golden and a reproachful glare from Princess Luna. "We didn't offer them anything!"

Golden waited, still staring at them almost blankly.

"So disappointing," Golden Scroll said finally. "You really don't realize the flow of information here do you? So let me spell it out for you. You wouldn't let me know about the going-ons of the outside unless it was in danger, and that this 'Rose' of yours was one of mine is obvious because you wouldn't have bothered asking me about it unless you thought I might have something to share. And you wouldn't risk letting me know where it is unless it was either not there but in a similar location, or because it has already been moved elsewhere. However, if it was the latter... well, you said they didn't take anything, maybe it's because they didn't find what they were looking for."

Luna and Dusty shared a nervous glance at each other, Golden looking at the pair of them.

Golden Scroll sighed.

"And, which of your students do you think did this?" Princess Luna asked, keeping herself as even as she could.

Golden just laughed again, spiteful and full of hate.

Dusty looked at Luna, Luna kept her gaze intense upon Golden’s face for several long seconds.

"Why is it," Golden said after he was done. "That every time you come here, you think you're going to get more out of me than I get out of you? What, are you going to take me to bed or something? Don't pretend you weren't interested in me... once upon a time."

Luna kept her gaze intense for a few more seconds, then she turned away, breaking off her stare.

“But I’m forgetting, you liked Ancient Sand, didn’t you?” Golden asked, looking at Luna, “too bad he’s gone, he wasn’t a bad stallion, he’d have made a good match for you.”

This time it was Luna really did lose control, her magic slamming into him, ripping his chair straight out of its bolts in the floor and pinning Golden against the far wall.

Golden laughed and laughed, enjoying the torment of being squeezed half to death against the hard stone wall. Luna kept her magic tight against him, pain and anger dominating her face.

Dusty made a little squeak and Golden only laughed all the more for it.

Several seconds later, Luna released him, allowing him to fall to the ground.

Golden Scroll began laughing again.

“We are done here.” Luna said quietly, turning and ushering Dusty toward the door.

Golden’s maniacal laughing followed them as they left through the door, chasing them down chambers, laughter and whispers mingling in tone and rhythm as they made their way to the entrance.

“We are sorry thou hadst to go through that.” Luna apologized quietly as they slowly walked down the hallways toward the maze that led back up to the surface.

“I just want my father back,” Dusty murmured. "Someday, I'm going to make him give him back."

“I dost hope that thou art correct.” Luna said.

Report: (M/D) 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

It is hard to write right now. I have taken Red’s advice and started exercising out in the snow. The road has been fairly packed down even though there aren’t many people traveling down it. The snow hasn’t melted but the wind hasn’t been very strong either. When the wind does pick up it howls out there something spooky but that’s not very often.

The days I spend crying are much fewer these days, the last one was over a week ago.

The reason why it’s hard to write is because my training generally involves running (galloping) every day, all the way down to the bridge which is about ten miles away or so. That means pounding my hooves pretty hard so my legs (near the hooves) tend to hurt. It’s starting to get to the point where my legs are still sore in the morning. I’ve noticed that this tends to make me delay my run until later in the day but I suspect this is just going to make them hurt more in the morning (healing time and stuff) and I’ll eventually be pushed into making the run in the night.

Red threatened to lock me out if my run means coming back in after dark, I think he was joking but the prospect is still risky enough to make me reconsider.

I’m worried that if I don’t lose weight then I’ll never be able to fly.

I give up, I’ve been thinking for nearly an hour now (also trying to give my foreleg time to heal) my pen just hovering over the paper, but there really is no silver lining to the chance that I might not fly. There’s just no way around it and in the end, the solution is simple.

I. Must. Fly.

Dear Dusty Legend,

I was told to try and write to you if anything odd or unusual happened, honestly the specifics were a little vague.

Cobalt is eager to help. Whenever there is something to do, he volunteers and does his best but I worry about him. It’s not like he usually works himself too much, indeed he often makes the excuse that work ethic plus laziness and brains results in efficiency. True, he usually has a decent idea or two about how to do things easier but still, I have to wonder where he came up with such thoughts.

I managed to slip into his room while he was out on a run and found his journal just lying on his bed.

He is obsessed with being able to fly, as though he is worried that he’ll end up being forced to leave or be forced to go back home and he’ll have missed his chance or something.

The thing is, while nothing has happened that is particularly unusual, I can’t help but shake the feeling that something is going to happen. Cobalt is all but fanatical with trying to fly. It’s to the point that he has taken it upon himself to exercise, galloping twenty miles in the snow to a bridge and back. I say twenty, it is ten miles there and ten back.

At least it didn’t take any convincing for him to go out there with his cloak. He seems to think a simple fur coat is enough to weather winter alone, just what kind of place does he come from to get that kind of idea?!

The thing is, I think he is hurting himself. He tries to hide it but we can see that he is in pain after each run. He seems convinced that he is fat and needs to lose weight and I admit he was a tad plump when he first got here but he’s not anymore. He keeps referring to his own lack of strength but he’s been getting stronger so much as thinner and already seems decently healthy to me. He knows he’s smart and he often comes up with ideas or wild theories or stories but he’ll often point out the “dumb mistakes” he’s made or say he “can’t” do something and that’ll just be the end of it sometimes. It is as though he genuinely cannot see the progress he makes and just keeps thinking that he’s still in the same place he was when he first got here.

And what if he actually does hurt himself or something?

Her majesty’s humble servant,

Red Pepper of the house of Melon.

Cobalt panted hard in the cold evening air, a slight breeze helping to cool his body as he strode at nearly a gallop down the road.

He was convinced he had very little time. They were spying on him and he knew it.

While he had no delusions about his journal being private yet he believed that it would remain such unless somepony had wanted to spy on him. As he considered this he realized that if he was being spied upon, then he wanted to know about it. As such he often left his journal out on the bed mostly covered by a blanket. But as a security measure, he left a small cloth hidden under the blanket but on top of the journal. Anypony that didn’t know about the cloth would simply slip the journal out and then return it later, disturbing the hidden cloth both when the journal was removed and then later when it was returned.

It had been less than two days after he’d started hiding his journal like that that he found the cloth disturbed. He double and triple checked his actions, there was only one way it could have ended up like that.

Somepony else was reading his journal.

If they were spying on him then they didn’t trust him. If they didn’t trust him then he’d probably already failed their experiment, whatever it was and they were going to send him back home soon.

Cobalt considered that they might wait until winter had passed to send him home. But even with the possibility, he just couldn’t risk it, not when he hadn’t even gotten his hooves off the ground yet.

Down the road he increased his pace, the pain in his legs and hooves telling him he was still alive.

As he approached the bridge that marked the turnaround point his hooves were killing him, especially his fore-hooves, they were really on fire.

“I can do this, I’ll slow down to give my legs time to heal on the way back.” Cobalt thought. A minute later he turned around and began the long walk back.

Five minutes later Cobalt returned to the bridge.

“No way,” Cobalt said to himself, trying to push through the pain, “if major athletes can do it then so can I. I’m gonna work until I MAKE myself fly!”

He jumped and landed a few times, flapping his wings furiously, getting no more than a few seconds air-time with each jump.

Cobalt took off, galloping down the road, he was convinced he still needed to lose weight, increase his strength, work his heart, everything if he was going to get his hooves off the-

*TING*

Cobalt fell forward. The pain so blinding that he couldn't even register that he wasn't running anymore. For a while, his brain was a kaleidoscope of thought and pain as he tried in vain to sort himself out, finally, he managed to get some handle on the pain and settled himself into a kind of mantra.

Breathe in, breathe out, cry, repeat.

Breathe in, breathe out, cry, repeat.

Breathe in, breathe out, cry, repeat.

For what felt like forever, that was all Cobalt could do, breathe in and out while the pain forced him to cry, his cries growing quieter as he became more accustomed to the pain.

Finally he managed to master the pain enough to try and get a look at the injury. The hoof flared again like lightning arcing through his skin as he dragged the injured limb toward his head so he could get a good look at it. What he saw made his heart sink.

His hoof was split in two. The sound he’d heard must have been his horseshoe snapping, taking the rest of his hoof with it in its division. The split reached all the way to the skin.

He was bleeding.

For a moment it was all Cobalt could do, lie there on his side on the hard frozen road, staring dumbly at his broken hoof, slowly bleeding onto the cold hard dirt, a light snow beginning to fall.

Author's Note

Appologies to anypony that likes jazz.

RETCON NOTES: I changed this chapter a lot. Originally I tried using a scene from a movie to craft how Golden Scroll went, yet I think it detracted from the villain I was trying to make while simultaneously failing to relay what it was about that scene that was so darn scary in the first place. In this retconned version, I think (I hope) it relays how, despite how much security there is, Golden is somehow winning, incarcerated but still in the game.

I'm going to keep the chapter name, as it refers not only to the Joker's line, but also to Cobalt's injury.

chapter 03: "Blood on the snow"

The Price of Wings
Chapter: 03: "Blood on the snow"
Written by Arcict Gray

He was bleeding, his hoof had been split and now it was bleeding. Inwardly he cursed himself, he’d been caught running away again.

Last time he’d tried running away it ended up with him physically here in Equestria and mentally in the middle of a rat-maze. He’d had suspicions that Celestia was spying on him and he’d set up a trap to see if that was true. The trap worked, revealing that his landlords, Red and Orange, were reading his journal when he was out. This led him to the conclusion that Celestia didn’t trust him and was going to kick him out of Equestria soon, likely sending him back home.

Fearing this, Cobalt’s determination to fly had risen, resulting in him pushing himself harder in his daily exercises. To get himself into shape, he would go running each day to the Tear-Wallow Bridge and back again. This time, after reaching the bridge and having already started on the way back, Cobalt had turned back and returned to the bridge in an effort to push himself even harder. His fear of being sent back and never being able to fly, never being able to solve the riddle or finish “the maze” caused him to ignore the warning signs his body was giving him. This time he had pushed himself too far and his hoof was split in two.

He’d been caught running away again.

Cobalt checked his hoof, raising his left foreleg up so he could get a better look at it. Despite the extra pain he felt in doing so, trying to focus on something actually helped him to push through it.

The break tore all the way to the skin and from the blood that was slowly oozing its way out he could tell that the skin was torn too. It wasn’t much but even so, he’d never really gotten used to the sight of his own blood. Even during phlebotomy certification he felt much more at ease seeing other people’s blood fill the vacuum tube than watching his own.

Hoping for a simple solution, Cobalt put the hoof against the ground at an angle, maybe he could just pinch it shut with simple body-weight...

The pain was blinding and he soon found himself resisting the urge to pass out.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid” Cobalt repeated to himself when he got a better grip on reality again.

Over a minute passed, Cobalt moaned and called himself “stupid” a few more times as he tried to recover from this latest blunder.

“I’m not walking on it.” Cobalt said finally, “now would be an excellent time to have wings.”

Cobalt sighed, realizing he’d misspoke, but it was to himself so he didn’t care, he knew what he meant.

“I need to stop the bleeding” Cobalt thought, “I don’t have a proper tourniquet, no rope, no string, not even duck-tape.”

Noticing something gray in the corner of his eyes Cobalt smiled, the cloak, he could wrap it in the cloak.

Wrapping it up was a difficult affair, the hoof was very tender and every time he so much as touched it he would get stabbing needles shooting up his leg for being so careless.

“not so easy,” Cobalt thought to himself “playing operation when I’m both the doctor and the patient.”

He wrapped his hoof up as tight as he could. When he was done he tested how much pressure it could withstand, it was still extremely tender and if he slipped up and accidentally stepped on it he could easily cause himself to pass out.

That wasn’t good, he couldn’t very easily see himself just holding it up while he limped all the way home. Getting an idea Cobalt gingerly unwrapped it and then wrapped it again, leaving a long loop to slip his head through, using the cloak as both wrapping and a sling. It wasn’t as tight as it was before but at least he didn’t need to waste any energy trying to hold it up anymore.

Getting to his hooves, Cobalt began the long march back to the farm.

The going was tough, Cobalt didn’t have the energy to run and he felt too leery of his good foreleg to risk running on it anyway. Inwardly, Cobalt felt thankful that his hind legs weren’t hurting as bad as his forelegs were, with any luck they’d last him long enough to make the walk home.

Cobalt continued the dreary march, doing his best to keep focused on the road until he came to a slight curve, just annoyingly subtle enough that you couldn't really call it a turn, but not gradual enough to simply ignore. He groaned, it meant that he was farther from the farm than he had hoped, much farther. Even worse, a slight chill overcame him as he looked, it was already late into the evening, almost sunset, and it would only get colder the longer it took.

Cobalt paused as a weak and weary moaning crossed his ears from over the fields. For a moment Cobalt’s pace halted and he tried to keep himself more alert of his surroundings and keep an eye out for danger. Several seconds later, and he was peppered by some snow kicked up from the small ground blizzard that the strengthening wind had kicked up.

Though not yet very strong, the wind still concerned Cobalt a little and he almost regretted taking his cloak off to wrap his hoof. For a moment he considered redoing it so as to pull more of it over him but he decided against it; it’d be too difficult and probably wouldn’t work anyway.

Proceeding, Cobalt hoped that he could keep up the pace and make it back to the farm. For a while, the slow plod against the occasional gust or snow-burst shower from the field was all Cobalt could do.

*SNAP*

Cobalt froze, his attention had been so focused on moving and on the moaning wind that he’d been all but ignoring the trees to his left. He waited, perfectly still, listening for anything that could be out there. Cobalt considered, it was more important to remain stealthy than it was to attract attention. As much as his curiosity ached to know what was out there, in his current state he couldn’t even run away and fighting back was horribly likely to fail. In either case, if there was something dangerous out there, it was far better to simply let it pass unawares.

Years later, or probably just minutes that felt like years, Cobalt eventually realized that he was feeling even colder and slowly, he started moving again; if anything was out there, they’d avoided making any further sounds and therefore, must have been just as chilled as he was by now. Maybe the wind and snow had caused a tree branch to snap and he'd simply been startled by nothing.

Cobalt trudged on, his right foreleg feeling worse and worse as he did so, passing the woods and trading it for a few scattered trees and untamed but short undergrowth. The few weeds that still had stalks stood as silent skeletal sentinels in the snow. In another time, it would have seemed pretty and bizarre but now it seemed only strange and creepy, empty and devoid of life. Cobalt hoped that he could get a chance to come back here and look at them, now that he wasn’t running anymore.

Minutes dragged by slowly, stacking into what could have been hours.

Slowly Cobalt realized he was getting weaker and his right foreleg was hurting, he needed to rest or, failing that, he needed to get off that hoof or it was going to split too. He hadn’t been running and pounding on it but now all of his forward weight was going to it alone instead of sharing it with his left. Ironically, both rear legs suffered little more than the familiar low burn of worked muscles, they were fine for now.

Pausing, Cobalt cursed his luck, he was stuck in this quadruped body while suffering what would have amounted to a simple broken hand back home and he would just walk there and try to ignore the pain. As it was he felt too weak and too weary, and his right foreleg was telling him to stop or it too could end up busting apart and then he'd really be in trouble.

Cobalt stopped, looking at his busted hoof, still wrapped up in part of the cloak, for a few moments he just sat there, staring at it.

“If I can’t limp my way there as a wounded pony,” Cobalt said to himself, rearing up and struggling to maintain his balance, “then I’ll just have to get there like an injured human.”

It wasn’t easy and Cobalt fell forward several times, catching himself when he did, what made things worse was that every time he fell forward he was forced to stop himself with his remaining fore-leg which hurt worse and worse with every fall.

“This isn’t working,” Cobalt said “I need something to keep my balance, a walker or a wheelchair or I’d settle for a decent set of wings or...”

Cobalt looked around at all of the trees, their long dark branches barren of leaves.

“Or a cane,” Cobalt said.

With a new sense of direction and purpose, Cobalt plodded to the nearest tree. Actually getting a stick down was not easy as it had seemed but after a few minutes Cobalt had procured a decent sized stick for himself. The stick had a fork in it that Cobalt fitted his right shoulder into to help support his weight.

“Alright.” Cobalt said, setting himself up with the cane, “time to get myself home.”

The effort of tearing the stick off the tree had been a little tiring but at least he felt warmer now and that was important in the cold. Repositioning himself onto the road, Cobalt turned west again, headed for the farm.

Despite his efforts the road was still difficult and hard and the wind started picking up even more.

Cobalt lost track of the minutes several times and more than once he wondered if a whole hour hadn’t passed already. The sky was overcast and that made it difficult to discern but he knew that it was still well after sunset, probably after dusk and might be full blown nightfall by now. Well, even if he did get locked out of the house, the thought of the barn seemed far too warm and inviting to complain about it. Cobalt prayed many times that he could return to the farm safely.

*reach* . . . *step*

*reach* . . . *step*

*reach* . . . *step*

*reach* . . . *step*

Cobalt kept repeating this like a rhythmic chant, reaching out with the stick and using it for balance and support as he stepped with his rear legs. It was very slow going and Cobalt could feel himself growing a little colder every minute. That the wind was howling lightly again didn’t help him much and every time a twig would snap or some snow would fall from a tree because of the wind it caused him to startle and pause, listening for movement.

Cobalt continued, his pace fairly steady now, cobalt’s mind drifted, he couldn’t help it, A single star peeking out from behind the clouds in the distance, inspiring thoughts far distant from himself. Beyond that, it was so dark now, so much colder, he had to think of something or he was going to go insane.

What if there was a Timberwolf? Cobalt imagined a large furry beast before he remembered that he’d heard from Red that they were made of wood. He had a hard time trying to think of something made of wood and yet having workable hinges, eventually settling on something looking like a cross between a length of tree-trunk and a wooden puppet. He had no idea how the head would look as his imagination led him to strange and bizarre designs.

“Another uneventful day dear sister?” Luna asked as she passed by Celestia on her way to the Watching Tower that the elder sister was vacating.

“As uneventful as any other day,” Celestia said, “which is to say, it was unbearably boring. You will likely have to wait for the cloud cover to part with the wind to get a good view though, it started growing with the recent chill.”

"You'd think that the Pegasi could stop it from doing that," Luna said.

"What would be the fun of that?" Celestia said coyly.

“You almost sound like Discord.” Luna commented, smiling wryly as she heard the sudden snort of slight disgust that came from her sister. Her use of older speech she reserved for formal affairs, dealing with others in a more professional manner, the simple and more common speech she found informal and personal and thus, used it more when in private.

Celestia paused a moment, and Luna sensed a desire for a change of the topic.

“Will you make another attempt tonight?” Celestia asked forcing herself to do so calmly, knowing how deeply affected her sister was by the subject she was bringing up.

Luna breathed slowly, pondering her reply as the change in subject settled upon her.

“No,” Luna said finally, “Let the little worm suffer for now, I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how much we want him to talk. Dusty Legend is still fuming from the last time we tried talking to him.”

Celestia considered this in silence for a moment.

“But what about your pet project?” Luna said, desiring to change the subject again, “any progress with him?”

“No, not really,” Celestia said, “life goes on.”

“I think he should be brought back to Canterlot to learn some manners.” Luna said, not willing to let the topic go so quickly, failure to keep it going could result in the conversation turning back to less comfortable subjects. “He’s never given the proper respect that any other pony does.”

“He bows his head,” Celestia said, managing to keep the defensiveness out of her voice but not out of her head where she knew Luna would see it.

“Nods is a more accurate term, and he does not bow down, ever,” Luna protested, “all he ever does is tilt his head down a little; he is treating us as equals rather than rulers! Has he never learned respect... or perhaps there is some other reason?”

Celestia sighed.

“No. And it cannot be helped,” Celestia said finally, “for a number of reasons. Firstly, he has had a long time to cultivate a wariness of any leaders or rulers, even if he supports them. And secondly...”

Celestia trailed off as she looked through the window. Outside, in the waning light of dusk, the moon was rising.

“Secondly, there is a part of him that does not want to give us full respect, at least, not until we recognize him as a full subject, a citizen.” Celestia said, “to demand of him obsequious respect while denying him the chance to be as any other pony, instead of just some... traveler, some visitor here on a trip... to him that is simply not fair. And in many ways it is unjust for us to demand it of him.

“I am convinced, if he had the ability to live here as a full citizen, he would bow to whatever was demanded of him. But he cannot even fly; his abilities are rivaled by foals! It is taking time, and money to keep him fed and alive enough just for him to get the skills he needs to do even the most basic tasks. He still needs help and a place to grow until he is ready.”

“And, when he does learn to fly? When he isready?" Luna asked, “What will prevent him from simply leaving and trying to evade us completely? He could do it you know, he’s calculating and even cold sometimes, he complicates even the simplest of questions by thinking and rethinking them until he has exactly the answer he thinks is absolutely the best, whether it really is or not. Furthermore, I have never known a pony get as upset as he when being told not to overthink things.”

“That too, he has had a long time to cultivate.” Celestia said, “A disdain for those that would tell him that he thinks too much. Indeed, one of the reasons for his wariness of leaders and rulers is simply because of how high a standard he holds them to. A standard that they, and everyone else he has known, has had a long time failing to live up to. It is also one of the reasons why I have kept him distant.

“Better to let him think what he will in the safety of his new home and see almost none of what we do, than to keep him close enough that he might see either of us actually make a mistake.”

“He is still judging us,” Luna said, “from what little he already knows.”

“But he is still uncertain,” Celestia said “he recognizes his own lack of information and realizes his opinion is only speculation, that keeps him in check and prevents him from acting on those judgements.”

“It won’t keep him in check for very long.” Luna said, “everything about him and how we handle him will change once he is able to fly. To say nothing of what will happen after that.”

“I know,” Celestia said, “But that should be at least a year away. And in any case, I have already begun making plans for him. Rest assured though, even if he learned how to fly today, with winter here it’s just too cold, he’d be all but forced to stay home. In other words, flight or no flight he’s got nowhere to go, which gives us time to prepare.”

“Dusty thinks we should just clip his wings.” Luna said, making sure to project the *I’m not serious* feeling that she wanted Celestia to pick up on. “Or threaten to, anyway, if he misbehaves.”

Celestia felt her sister projecting the jokiness that Luna intended to convey with the statement, but responded as though Luna had spoken in full seriousness.

“That is the opposite of what we want.” Celestia said plainly, “he will never thank us for that and his resentment, I fear, would cause irreversible damages. Even merely threatening to do so would put us at odds against each other.”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked, surprised at Celestia’s choice to take her joke seriously, “I mean, what could he do?”

“He could join the enemy.” Celestia said flatly, “or side with one of his cohorts. It has been a considerable gamble, keeping him ignorant of the fact that there even is an enemy. That was the main reason why we moved him, from Canterlot to Ponyville and now to a nameless little place where nopony ever really goes. To keep him hidden from the enemy and to buy him the time to earn his Cutie-mark so that he could blend in. If he goes around without it then the enemy will be able to spot him right away. And if they don’t kill him, they’ll try to recruit him. And if we did clip his wings, or threaten to do so, we could very easily drive him away, and likely right to them. Even worse though, if he did not join the enemy, he could become one.”

Luna was quiet for several moments.

“And in the meantime, we can’t do anything against our enemy?” Luna asked, “We still cannot free h... his prisoner? I cannot imagine why we do not simply have Twilight use the elements against him like they were used against...”

“This is different,” Celestia said quickly as Luna started going quiet, knowing that her sister was still ashamed to finish the sentence. “Their sources are too closely matched. The best way to overcome his power is to starve it from the source and then to use that source against him. But that isn't ready yet.”

"And so we wait," Luna concluded.

"And so we wait," Celestia confirmed.

Luna was quiet again.

“It was just a joke,” Luna said eventually, trying to keep the bitterness of her ruined joke out of her voice and out of her mind.

“I know,” Celestia said softly, walking over so she could supportingly nuzzle her little sister. “But we stand so close to the edge this time, I don’t know how much more I can take from the situation.”

“Do we still have no idea what any of them actually have? Luna asked, “what any of them will be?”

“No,” Celestia said, “With just him it’s easy enough to see why, he’s old enough that he’s developed enough talents and skills so that it could be anything. But...”

“But?” Luna asked.

“But I suspect it is something that is still developing, something he yet needs.” Celestia said.

“Why would that be the case?” Luna asked.

Celestia was quiet as she stared out of the window in contemplation, silence the only real answer she could give, the speeches, the lectures, it just felt meaningless now. "Why" was just a feeling, just a thought, with no real reason, just... just a whisper.

“You should get some rest,” Luna said “I shall guard the night and keep an eye out for trouble.”

They parted, Celestia heading for the door and Luna for the tower, then she paused.

“One question though,” Luna said, “just how well prepared are you for the future?”

“Oh you know me,” Celestia said, turning so Luna could see her intentionally over-confident expression, “my machinations don’t even have a losing outcome.”

“Except at the card table...” Luna sang jokingly as she entered the doorway to the Watching Tower, leaving her sister to stare at her out of shock and surprise.

...and then, when the timberwolf reached the Melon’s place, I’d jump off from the back of his head and...

Cobalt paused, momentarily popping out of the daydream, he had to think about that bit; if he simply jumped off or anything then the wolf would probably stop, and that would bring trouble to the Red and Orange inside, as well as the other ponies living nearby. Maybe he’d be able to get ahold of something on fire like a smoldering long from the fireplace or something and ward it off or scare it away or something.

He became distracted, getting pulled from the daydream completely, it felt even colder for some reason.

Cobalt looked around, he had stopped. Sometime during his daydream, he had no idea when, nor how far he had left to go, and now he was colder than ever.

Cobalt got up again, surprised at what he found, his body felt numb and his hoof seemed to be hurting worse than ever. It was a struggle to move and it hurt worse and worse to keep going. Cobalt began moving, trying to continue his trudging, but as he continued his pace slowed as he started succumbing to the pain and numbness, it was hard and it was getting to him.

“Why, why did I stop and DAYDREAM?!” Cobalt thought bitterly, he wanted to cry, “My own mind, getting bored with the very struggle just to survive so what do I do? I descend into a stinking DAYDREAM! I stop going just for a little mental ENTERTAINMENT?!”

His shoulder was sore and his bad hoof hurt worse than ever, he had lost feeling in his good hooves which was a bad sign. It felt too hard to keep going, every step hurt now. He cursed himself, he didn’t have a home, he wasn’t fit or skilled for anything, he didn’t even have a purpose like everypony had, if this was his fate then he wasn’t meant to survive in the first place.

With a despair bordering on tears, Cobalt looked to the black sky, too dark now to even see the clouds that obscured the moon and stars.

”Here I am” Cobalt thought, still looking at the darkening, overcast sky, ”in a foreign world, in a foreign pegasus body that cannot fly, and I am failing it just as much as it is failing me.”

He could almost feel a creeping sensation of despair that crawled over him, from his head to his hooves the sense of utter nihilism obliterated his mind and covered his body. His desires and wants faded, he no longer wanted to keep going, death was nothing but a way out, away from the numbness and pain, away from all the stupid rat-racing, the spying, all of it could just be left behind if death took him now.

Regret and resentment filled his heart with thoughts of things he hadn’t had a chance to do. As these thoughts permeated through him a new sensation entered his heart and it made him feel dead inside. Old things he used to like started to fade. The cool feel of a fall wind...meaningless, quiet moments to think about something...pointless, music that made him feel things...empty, videogames...an utter waste, all these thoughts became numb and void to him.

Nothing mattered anymore, he was nothing but a waste, his thoughts were worthless, he’d never been able to make something of himself. He’d never had the guts nor the strength to face any worthwhile challenge so as to accomplish anything meaningful. He wanted it over, wanted it to end so he couldn’t have to stand this kind of misery anymore.

Gazing up at the darkened overcast sky, Cobalt slowly, painfully, closed his eyes.

* * * * * * *

With surprising ease, Cobalt looked around. The snow was gone but everything was still white. The cold, the pain, even the numbness was gone, there was simply... existence. The sky was blue, but it was a weird kind of blue, like it was only blue if you didn’t look at it. While most of the clouds were white, a few of the clouds seemed ominously pink but again, only if you didn’t look at them. Cobalt was too full of questions to form any single coherent thought for a few moments.

(Am I dead?) Cobalt thought at first, (that was awfully quick if I am, but if I’m not then it was still awfully quick and... it is really weird.)

All around him the ground was covered with a kind of mist which quickly blew away, revealing rubble and wreckage in a horribly chaotic clutter. Everywhere there was stuff that looked like broken drywall, bent furniture and numberless cloths and papers that were scattered around in a horrendous mess that mingled with the mist covering the floor.

He also saw what looked like a pony leg sticking up from the rubble.

“The storm spared few and many that were not killed still lost their homes,” said a voice, “I lost my parents and all my friends that night. The storm had killed them and destroyed the only home I had ever known. The only one that could take me in was an uncle that I hated.”

(I’m in a dream) Cobalt thought to himself (This must be a dream, oh crap I’ve fainted from the cold and now I’m dreaming to myself while I die of hypothermia)

“I wanted to die,” the voice continued, “to give up but I was too resilient as a -child- so I didn’t. I survived, and it gave me the strength to meet horrors that I faced as an adult. You are an adult already, and your own resilience is not as strong as it once was, but you can’t give up, not now.”

(what?) Cobalt thought, trying to focus on what the voice was telling him. It wasn’t a very harsh voice and for being a strong voice it seemed almost female but he couldn’t tell for sure.

“You cannot give up, you were chosen and accepted to bear this burden.” The voice came again, “and you must see it through.”

(Wait, me?) Cobalt thought, finding himself unable to speak, thoughts were all he could muster. He didn’t know where or even what he was, (what do you mean me, who are you?! )

“Stand up. Stand and fight soldier,” said the voice again, commanding yet understanding, a beckoning, “you know you must! As much as you can’t stand the pain, you must see it through to the end!”

Cobalt could only stare at the debris all around him, he was too curious and confused about everything to just focus on one thing at a time and thus was surprised when he realized that everything was blurring into the mist, everything, the debris, the mess, even the sky.

“Now stand! Stand and face the world again!”
* * * * * * *

With a start Cobalt gasped. He had slumped down onto his right side and into a thick snow drift. The snow was still all around him, the wind was still blowing, everything was still cold. He still wasn’t sure what he had just seen or why but it startled him and his breath came in frigid cold gasps that froze in his lungs. Cobalt resisted the urge to cough and tried getting his bearings again.

With a pained grown, Cobalt got up, picking up the stick and replacing it under his sore shoulder and steeling himself to the rest of his journey.

In many ways, Cobalt felt even more numb than before. Nothing mattered and maybe nothing ever would, but if nothing mattered then why should he die? If it really meant nothing then he could still live and maybe... maybe things would start to matter again. Maybe the things in his head and heart weren’t dead, just numb for the moment.

There was only one way to find out.

Securing his stick back into its proper place, Cobalt continued down the path, doing his best to ignore the pain; pain just meant that he wasn’t dead yet.

As he left where he had collapsed, Cobalt passed by another tree that was soon forgotten. Unseen by him, a pale and wispy, nearly transparent figure stared at him from above the tree.

“Go child,” whispered the ghostly figure before vanishing completely.

Red Pepper paced the living room furiously, Cobalt had really done it this time, staying out late, and doing what?

Thoughts and possibilities passed through Red’s mind, reminding him of the doubts and fears he’d had to face when raising his own children as they had been growing up. He could be out there getting into trouble, cooking up some mad scheme, he could be carried off by dragons, he could be flirting with a mare down the road.

Red couldn’t tell whether he should be angry or impressed with that last idea, if it were true. Cobalt wasn’t even from their world, if he was flirting with some mare down the road then he was doing a great job at acclimating himself, on the other hoof, doing so when he still had so much to learn was categorically irresponsible. And being out this late to flirt with the mare down the road was just-

*THUMP*

Red turned to face what seemed to be the source of the noise. His hackles raised a little, partly out of surprise and partly out of fear, remembering the stories his father and grandfather had told him about the creatures that sometimes wandered out from the Everfree Forest.

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

*THUMP*

Red approached the door, it almost sounded as though somepony was knocking on it except it sounded too dull. As it was, it sounded more like somepony was simply bumping into the door rhythmically. Whatever it was it couldn’t have been trying to break the door down; if that was their intent they were thumping against it far too softly.

Red reached for the door handle and pulled the door open just as Cobalt tried banging his head against it again, missing and falling forward into the house, landing in a lump.

Red at first wanted to be furious with Cobalt at the abrupt and late entrance but he became quickly aware that Cobalt was crying out in pain. Cobalt flipped partially to one side to get the pressure off of his bad hoof, inadvertently removing the cloak it was wrapped in. Red got a very good look at the hoof as Cobalt tried to keep it raised so it wouldn’t touch anything.

The sight of dried blood was enough that Red almost fainted but he held on as best he could, he’d seen injuries before and knew fainting wouldn’t help anypony. It was only when he had gotten over his initial reaction to both Cobalt’s abrupt entrance and to the injured hoof that he got his third shock for that particular fifteen seconds.

Cobalt had turned all grayish.

“S... sorry I’m late,” Cobalt said, his voice somewhat weak, it was only now that Red realized how cold Cobalt’s body felt. “I’m afraid, I... little hard... trying to... here.”

Cobalt didn’t remember much about the rest of that night, he knew there was some fuss over the hoof and things but he was so exhausted and tired and numb that he started shutting down fairly quickly. An old familiar desire started gnawing at him, sleep, he wanted sleep, let the mind let go and just let the body take over for a while, forever if need be. He’d reached his goal and there was nothing left driving him on.

There was some fuss from both Red and Orange and then it seemed for a while that one of the two, Cobalt wasn’t sure which, was gone for a while. While Cobalt wasn’t sleeping, something kept waking him up, yet he was too dazed to keep track of everything. The missing one, Red it seemed, came back and then, for some reason, Cobalt had to go back out into the cold.

Cobalt thought he remembered needing to operate some kind of machine, he kept feeling stupid because it was such a simple thing but, like in a dream, the machine was impossible for him to operate and he’d needed somepony to help him. Cobalt then remembered being strapped to something and unable to leave as the night became much colder and windier and he thought he was flying through part of it but he was probably just daydreaming again, he was on the road, the snow was going by so fast, somebody roll the windshield up, it was too windy.

Cobalt also remembered a dimly lit but quiet room and a clean building with hallways that were synthetic and there was more fussing and more ponies checking his hoof and things before he was put in an uncomfortable room where darkness settled in over him.

He awoke in a room he recognized as one belonging to... something, his lack of comfort was from his bad hoof, wrapped up and elevated above his body. But it was warm, and the bed was nice.

Dear Dusty Legend,

Cobalt has really done it this time. This evening he split his hoof while he was out galloping around. Somehow he managed to drag himself back. We have sent him out to Thorough-blood hospital, he should arrive in a few minutes. I do not know how his medical finances are set up but I do know that the injury looked nasty and he seemed faint from exhaustion and cold.

There was something else that startled us about him. His coat and mane have changed; they’re much more grayish, almost completely monotone. While I haven’t been keeping a close eye on his color (I never thought I’d need to) yet I feel fairly certain that this happened recently.

I am sending this letter with the ponies that are carrying him to the hospital with the instructions that they are to pass it on to you; hopefully they will do so before morning and thus reach you faster.

Red Pepper

Author's Note

This chapter took WAY longer then it should have. Part of that was because I was rewriting a lot of the middle of the story, redefining some characters and working on them. Another part is because I've been re-playing Fallout 3 and yet another part is because between all that I've also been looking for a job now that I've graduated.

I worked really hard to try and proof-read this, if I got anything wrong please tell me, or don't tell me, after re-writing it so many times (I did too, I read and re-read it many times, making minor edits every single time and making moderate edits most times) it might be better not to tell me.

Either way, enjoy, now that I have a more stable setup for the other characters it'll probably be faster.

Speaking of speed, there's going to be two times in the future where the "hearth's warming -eve pageant is performed/viewed. I want at least one of them to be given in full detail. The first one it is getting viewed, the second it is getting performed and happens much later. Does anypony have any preferences for when I do what?

Thanks for reading!

4/15/2014: Minor edit, after a future plot change some of the stuff didn't make as much sense as it should and got edited (minor edit) to make more sense for the future.

POST RETCON NOTES... For the life of me, I can't find where, or even if I mentioned it. I intended for this to deliberately deviate from the show and, as such, give Celestia a golden mane rather than her cool-hued one, but I just can't find where that was supposed to be, or even if I'd included it yet.

Minor edits really, mostly to make things feel more smooth and flow better. Do I really talk like that? I know I often try to write the way I talk but rereading it now... it just feels like half between trying to talk to 5 year olds and half copied out of a textbook. I know what I'm trying to say but still actually saying it just seems... to not work, for some reason.

Chapter 04: "Gray Area"

The Price of Wings
Chapter: 04
"Gray Area"

Written by Arcict Gray

Dusty Legend paced huffing. It wasn’t the pace that got him huffing, it was his anxiousness over his latest report. It wasn’t unusual for Dusty to begin writing his reports early in the morning, well before the sun came up, it was unusual, however, for him to include personal opinions and requests in them. This latest one had not been a pleasant one to write.

Dusty was tired of working on the portal project, he was tired of babysitting a grounded pegasus and he was tired of his father being held prisoner. Most of all he was tired of the feeling of utter futility he felt whenever he thought about the future of the project. Thus he had listed his grievances into his latest report. In the list, Dusty had tried to be as accurate and relevant as possible but he knew he couldn’t hide the truth.

The project was, in Dusty’s opinion, going nowhere. But beyond that, Dusty wanted out, this wasn’t his forte, his cutie-mark had nothing to do with any of this and Dusty wanted to go and try to rescue his father.

Dusty’s pacing wasn’t just from anxiety over what Celestia’s reaction might be, he also wanted to know what she chose, and as soon as possible. As such he had chosen to wait outside the royal dining room, a decision that soon led to tapping, then occasionally moving and finally the pacing that he found himself doing now.

In Celestia’s dining room, the atmosphere was considerably different. Celestia knew that Dusty’s patience had been getting thin of late. Knowing what Dusty wanted to do and knowing what she had charged him with Celestia had figured that it would just be a matter of time before Dusty tried to resign.

Breakfast was happening slightly faster than usual, Celestia had read Dusty’s report before breakfast and knew that delaying her response would not help anything.

“...and there is an envoy from the griffons concerning the developments in the... erm, the” Crystal Clear stumbled, she always had trouble with trying to pronounce foreign languages. “With the... um...”

Crystal Clear gave up and her horn began glowing, casting a spell on the words of the note.

“κορυφογραμμή του θερμού, ανατινάξεις βουνό ” the spell intoned.

“Hmm,” Celestia said, seated daintily among her cushions and contemplating the last toasted biscuit that lay before her. “Perhaps we shouldn't be calling it a ‘ridge’ per se’. After all, it’s not really a ridge, just a line of hills after all.”

“Well, either way,” Crystal continued, “they sent ahead a summary of their purpose.”

Crystal again cast the spell, “αρκετούς μήνες ακόμη πριν φυσά, ίσως περισσότερο από ένα χρόνο για να πάει”

“well, that clears that up at least,” Celestia said. “It’s a pity though that this day doesn't seem to be off to a good start. It’ll be months before we can arguably bring anypony else through that darn portal.”

“Pardon?” Crystal Clear asked. It may not have been her place to question the princess but it was her job to know things so she could inform the princess of news and events at regular intervals (such as breakfast, essentially her job was to be the Princess’s personal “morning news”), as such her curiosity and desire for information was naturally strong. It was also her place, as such a messenger, to act as a confidant for Celestia’s secrets whenever she heard them.

“I can’t ask anypony to come here, not during the winter.” Celestia stated plainly, “it is hard enough adapting to life here, even with the spells we put onto the portal to help them adapt; during the winter it’d just be too hard for any of them to reasonably go through with it.”

“If I may ask, what spells are you talking about?” Crystal said.

“There are many spells on the portal, most are concerned with the portal itself.” Celestia said, “keeping it stable, making sure it stays locked to a specific point in space on the other side, that sort of thing, even the green glow around it is nothing but a light spell. But mostly the spells I’m talking about are the ones that give them things that would take months or years to develop on their own, an intuitive knowledge of their new body, rewiring many of their reflexes and muscle memory so as to match their new musculature, even our language is different and needed updating.”

“And you did all that with magic?” Crystal said, “wouldn't that take a long time to develop? Or at least require a lot of work? I thought the portal had been open for less than a year, and it’s such a small project... isn’t it... I, I always thought it was.”

“You,” Celestia said cryptically, shaking her head slowly, “and everypony else.”

Dusty, still waiting outside, heard the familiar sound of hooves all but galloping down the hallway.

“Mail for Dusty Legend!” said the mail-pony that approached him, skidding to a halt mere inches from his face.

Dusty backed away a bit as the mail-pony got out a single envelope from his saddle bags.

“Er, thanks,” Dusty said, taking the envelope with his magic.

“Decades?!” Crystal Clear blurted out, “are you serious?”

“Very,” Celestia said solemnly, “this whole venture has been in the making for at least three decades, though in truth even longer. It has been in the making since long before my involvement, possibly even before my birth depending on how you look at it.”

“And none of them know?” Crystal Clear couldn’t help but ask.

“None of them know,” Celestia confirmed, “and how could they? They have believed that they are and always have been alone. To tell them now would do nothing but destroy what little surety they have, and it wouldn’t do anything to help them regain it. I have seen their world, the most advanced of them would throw away all tradition and common sense believing they can handle life without those things because of how far they have progressed; to tell them would be to destroy everything. And the other half believes in things that entirely contradict the truth, to tell them is to risk out and out war with their beliefs and way of life.”

“It’s cruel,” Crystal Clear said, “is there no other way?”

“The only way would be for them to be prepared,” Celestia said, “for fate itself to simply hand them over to us already primed and ready to hear everything but... they’re not.”

“Well, at least you’re-“ Crystal started before getting interrupted by Dusty bursting through the door. At first Celestia presumed that Dusty had dug his own proverbial grave by losing patience but the look on his face told her different.

“What happened?!” Celestia demanded, getting up quickly, the cool biscuit all but forgotten.

“He’s in the hospital.” Dusty said breathlessly, he’d practically begun hyperventilating as he read Red Giant’s letter. “And he’s turned gray again.”

There were sheep in the woods, clear and open. There was a ball and they were passing it around, children, not sheep. The ball was red but quickly turned blue when nobody was looking. The children left, also while nobody was looking. He couldn’t find the ball so he went looking for it. The ball was gone but he knew it had gone somewhere. In the back of his mind he knew that he should be looking at something else but he wanted that ball.

“It is the year 20XXXX,” A loud deep voice rang out, “the apocalypse has been thrown into world, as the evil Dr. Wibotlynic continues his mad terror of spree, mayhem and acorn squash.”

He looked up, unwilling to do so because he still wanted to look for the thing he knew he was looking for before, but he couldn’t remember what it was. Even so, despite being unable to remember it, he kept trying to find it before finally giving up, it’d turn up sooner or later, though in the back of his mind he didn’t think it would. But by now the voice was gone and so was the rest of everything, it was white and green and the world seemed spent, as though something had been used up in creating it. Dr. Wibotlynic was there, laughing at him deeply but also in a kind of crazy maniacal way as his enormous metal square prosthetic chin kept beeping rhythmically. Possibilities collapsed and probabilities ended. The fizz was going flat as entire realities fell into empty shadow and all the while the rhythmic beeping grew louder and louder.

Cobalt opened his eyes, he had been dreaming. Once again he had gotten distracted by something the dream didn’t want him to focus on and had caused the dream to collapse prematurely. This hadn’t been the first time he’d destroyed his own dreams by getting distracted, he was quite used to it. In some ways Cobalt figured that sooner or later his dreams or whatever part of his brain actually did the dream-making would catch up to the rest of him and just make the dream about the distraction instead.

“Stupid sleep” Cobalt groaned, still groggy and barely remembering a thing about the dream other than that it wasn’t very coherent, “we’re supposed to use sleep to get sheep, not the other... way... something.”

Cobalt gave up, he knew it had come out wrong but he wasn’t sure how, and now that he thought on it, he couldn’t remember what he had been talking about anyway. For a moment he thought that there was someone that left while he was thinking but he couldn’t tell for sure, he was too groggy. Idly he saw a machine that was beating rhythmically nearby, ‘the chin’ he thought, but couldn’t fully remember why he thought of a chin when he saw it, he soon forgot the whole thing.

Given that he'd thought that someone had left it was, therefore, only partially a surprise when he saw a doctor, doctor’s uniform and all, walking into the room. The doctor was a pale orange unicorn with a bright pink mane.

“So,” said the doctor, “are you awake now?”

“That depends,” Cobalt said, still a little groggy, “Are you a natural pink?”

“Ac... actually no,” the doctor said nervously. “My mane is naturally a bright red, but... well, working in a hospital doesn’t really condone having anything a bright red so...”

The doctor noticed that Cobalt didn’t seem to really care one way or another.

“Well, do try to stay awake, we don’t want you to go back to sleep just yet,” said the doctor. “I am Doctor Ethics and you are... Cobalt, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s what they call me,” Cobalt said.

“So,” Dr. Ethics continued, “about the hoof, you know how it happened? Your friend brought you in but didn’t know how it had happened, was it an accident in the house or something.”

Cobalt had to look at his hoof to see what the doctor was talking about, doing his best to ignore the doctor’s name. The hoof was bandaged, but from the looks of it, still not in a cast. It was then that the memory came back to him, he had been running hard and it had just snapped, split in twain. The memory wasn’t alone, with it came the memory of the horrible time he’d had trying to get back home, he couldn’t help but shut his eyes cringing, when thinking about it.

“Can’t remember huh?” Dr. Ethics said, “I wouldn’t worry about it, traumatic events such as these usually take their-“

“I remember how it happened.” Cobalt interrupted, “really, it was more of a ‘really bad thing’ than a traumatic event. It happened while I was running, galloping outside, for the exercise. I... I’m not going to need it amputated am I?”

Dr. Ethics simply stared at him for a moment, Cobalt wasn’t sure whether the look on the doctor’s face was one confirming his question or one of shock for asking it.

“Goodness! I should hope not,” Dr. Ethics said “we haven’t had to perform an actual amputation in... well, longer than I’ve been here. Why somepony would even think of such a thing I cannot imagine.”

“Doctor, how long have I been here?” Cobalt said, easing himself back into the bed again, it was only now he realized his wings were a bit stiff, in fact most of his body was stiff.

“You were admitted last night,” said Dr. Ethics in a marveling voice, Cobalt was talking amputation which, in Dr. Ethics’ eyes was a very extreme measure, but he was doing so in an extremely calm manner.

“So, doctor.” Cobalt said, “what am I looking at here?”

“Well, let’s see here.” Dr. Ethics said, using his magic to unravel Cobalt’s bandages. Cobalt winced a little as the change in pressure caused a little pain. For a few moments the doctor looked at the injured hoof, then a few more, then a few more, Cobalt was starting to get embarrassed, had he stepped in something?

“See anything doc?” Cobalt asked.

“I... well, it’s not bleeding or anything so that’s good news.” Dr. Ethics said.

“Okay, any bad news?” Cobalt asked. “I mean, you were looking at it for a while.”

“No no,” Dr. Ethics said hastily, “it’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure things will look better later.”

Dr. Ethics quickly re-bound Cobalt’s hoof and turned to go, Cobalt couldn’t help but get the distinct impression that he was retreating from something.

“Veracity doctor,” Cobalt said, his voice commanding; it halted the doctor in his tracks. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

“How... how do you know about that?” Dr. Ethics asked, as though Cobalt has asked Superman about kryptonite. “Most ponies are woefully ignorant about medicine, certainly about the ethics of-“

“My question first,” Cobalt said, “then yours, please.”

Dr. Ethics sighed, defeated.

“It’s not healing,” Dr. Ethics said, “at least, it doesn’t look like it is. I’m sure it just needs more time but...”

Cobalt looked back at his hoof as the doctor trailed off, only now noticing the rest of the leg that attached to said hoof.

“Doctor...” Cobalt said, only now a little bit worried and looking the rest of himself over, “why am I gray?”

“Because you are?” Dr. Ethics tried as he picked up a clipboard at the base of Cobalt’s bed, “is that not your natural color?”

“No, it isn’t.” Cobalt said, “I’m naturally an ocean dark blue.”

“So... you dyed your coat?” Dr. Ethics said, trying to understand. “I mean, I dye my mane and tail.”

“No,” Cobalt said, “I think... I think I turned gray for a reason.”

Neither said anything for a moment. After a few seconds, they heard what sounded like a heated argument outside and Dr. Ethics turned to go check on it.

“I’m a phlebotomist, by the way,” Cobalt said quickly, wanting to catch Dr. Ethics before he’d left. “At least, I was, some time ago. That’s how I learned of the ethics, Dr. Ethics. Heh.”

Dr. Ethics looked at him for a moment, his face seemingly confused. Cobalt understood, Dr. Ethics was wondering how a pegasus, with no access to telekinesis, could handle small needles with any amount of skill or sanitation.

“It’s a long story doc,” Cobalt said, “but...”

Cobalt turned from the doctor to the door, the argument had become louder and Cobalt thought he’d heard a voice he recognized. No more than a few seconds later when a pony burst through the door and Cobalt saw a face he thought he recognized.

“By Celestia’s mane,” Dusty said, exhausted and surprised as he looked Cobalt over. “You’ve really done it this time.”

Dusty lowered his head and for a few moments his horn glowed.

“Enough of that!” Dr. Ethics said, bursting into the room himself, “no foreign magics in the hospital, you can do that outside or in the lobby but don’t-“

Dr. Ethics stopped and stammered as the light from the window grew until it was nearly blinding and Princess Celestia appeared.

It took Cobalt a moment before he realized what had happened, he’d never seen Celestia teleport before.

“Be still my little ponies.” Celestia said as she turned to look Cobalt over. Finally she turned toward the doorway where Dusty and Dr. Ethics stood.

“Can we have a moment alone?” Celestia asked, it took a moment before the two ponies realized she was actually ordering them out.

“Oh, of course!” Dr. Ethics said, backing out quickly.

“You too,” Celestia said gently as Dusty hesitated, finally he too turned and left the room.

“Do you know what happened to you?” Celestia asked when they were alone, turning to face Cobalt again.

“I split my hoof, running, er galloping” Cobalt said, indicating the wounded limb, “exactly how I turned all monochrome I have no idea.”

They were both silent for a while.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, it’s nothing a bucket of paint won’t cure right?” Cobalt said, trying to joke.

Celestia paused, looking him over.

“I’m afraid it is very serious,” Celestia said finally.

The attitude of the room changed for both of them.

“How serious?” Cobalt asked, his voice all business.

“You won’t heal like this.” Celestia said delicately, “so long as you are gray, I do not think your body will recover from your injury.”

Cobalt didn’t need much time to think about this.

“Well, at least that explains what Dr. Ethics said about my hoof.” Cobalt said, “so, the question is, how to I fix that?”

Celestia hesitated, taken aback, she couldn’t help but wonder if his mind hadn’t completely snapped, he was taking the news extremely well.

“Well hurry up, out with it... please,” Cobalt said.

“You... aren’t afraid?” Celestia asked.

“Of what?” Cobalt asked, “of not healing, of being stuck in here forever, what is there to be afraid of that can’t be fixed by getting rid of being gray? If I get it fixed then it all gets better right? So what is the point of being afraid then? Just get to the point so that I can fix it.”

Celestia couldn’t help but pause again, taking in what Cobalt had just said.

“It is...” Celestia said, unsure what to say next, “it is just that most ponies would be half-panicking about now.”

“Well, congratulations, but as I’m pretty sure you’ve figured out by now... I am not most ponies.” Cobalt said. Despite the rudeness of his statement, Celestia could sense that he’d meant it as a kind of ‘in’ joke, of course she’d figured out he wasn’t most ponies, she’d known that since before he’d stepped through the portal, even more so afterward. "So come on, hit me."

*well, if he really wants me to hit him with the truth* Celestia thought.

“It could kill you,” Celestia said finally. “It was a disease a long time ago, in fact, that was why the Earth-ponies created the cutie-marks, to ward it off. Also why they made it so it appeared when they were young. The disease doesn’t affect the young, they are too resilient, typically, but as they get older... they became susceptible.”

Celestia stopped, allowing the information to sink in. Cobalt did his best to wait patiently for Celestia to continue.

“It... well, it only happens when you turn against yourself, your true nature that is.” Celestia said, “effectively, you did something to yourself. That is the tricky part really, the only way to cure turning gray is to find what you did and undo it.”

Now Cobalt paused, taking it all in.

“Any pointers on helping me to find it?” Cobalt asked finally.

“I understand,” Celestia said, “that the event in question is, emotionally speaking, incredibly painful, and since it apparently happened when you were alone, you would be the only pony that knows just what it was that happened. So, unfortunately, only you can undo it..”

Cobalt paused again, slightly disappointed, he’d been hoping for something he could work with instead of simple vagaries.

“you understand?” Cobalt asked.

“The most recent occurrences of turning gray were... under somewhat unnatural circumstances,” Celestia said. “The original circumstances, where ponies turned gray, it has been so long since it happened that the last reported incidence was hundreds of years before I was born!”

“Ah,” Cobalt said, understanding. If the last case had occurred so long ago then even princess Celestia might not know all of the details.

“I shall go, I need to speak to the doctor” Celestia said, and with that, she turned and trotted through the door which was only barely large enough to grant her clearance. Cobalt was already so engrossed trying to figure out what he needed to do that he only barely noticed that Celestia had turned briefly back to him, worried.

“Doctor, I need to talk to you,” Celestia said, briefly casting a spell on Cobalt’s room door.

“Yes princess?” said Dr. Ethics, bowing deeply to the ground.

Celestia’s horn glowed briefly, Dusty, watching from several feet away felt a little jealous that the doctor wasn’t raising any fuss about ‘foreign’ magics like he had before. A few moments later and both he and the doctor turned as the sound of approaching hoofsteps reached their ears. A black hooded stallion approached at a hurried pace. For a moment Dusty thought, given the dark hood, that it meant danger or something, then he heard the princess speak.

“Doctor, this is a trusted pony of mine, he keeps *pfft* me informed of everything he sees and hears,” Celestia said, pausing only because a small fly flew close enough to tickle her nose for a brief moment. “I want him to keep an eye on Cobalt, your patient.”

“That... is easily done your highness,” Dr. Ethics said, “we can set him up in the-“

“And I do not want Cobalt to know he is being watched,” Celestia finished.

“What?” Dr. Ethics asked, surprised.

“You will dress up my trusted pony in bandages and casts, wherever his coat shows through you will dye or paint it so that Cobalt does not see his true color, do not bother with his mane and tail, the coat is enough, and you will cover his cutie mark, he will be a room-mate for Cobalt,” Celestia said. “You will treat him as though he were a patient that needs bed rest and must not be disturbed, I do not want Cobalt to realize he is being spied upon or he may start to realize how grave his situation really is and start to lose hope.”

“Princess, I...” Dr. Ethics started.

“Doctor, it is absolutely imperative that Cobalt not lose hope,” Celestia said, her voice wavering slightly with strain and concern. “I am convinced that that is the only reason why he has not already succumbed and died. If anything happens I want to know immediately but I do not want him to know just how serious things really are.”

Dr. Ethics hesitated before finally responding.

“Yes your highness,” Dr. Ethics said.

“Dusty, see to it that Dr. Ethics is informed of Cobalt’s history and see to it that my trusted pony is well disguised and placed where he can keep an eye on Cobalt’s condition,” Celestia said.

“Yes princess,” Dusty Legend said, bowing himself and following as Dr. Ethics escorted both him and the black-cloaked pony down the hallway.

“So, did you know about this?” Celestia heard Dr. Ethics whisper to Dusty.

“No,” Dusty Legend replied, “this is the first I’ve ever heard of Celestia using spies.”

Celestia waited until they were both well out of earshot.

“What did you do to him Discord?” Celestia demanded, turning back to face the supposedly empty hallway, her voice wavering slightly as she spoke.

“Me?” The small fly said, as he grew into a small draconequus, his voice deliberately dripping with mock innocence. “Why I haven’t done a thing to him.”

Celestia glared at him, Discord didn’t need his powers to know that she didn’t believe him.

“Oh come now Celestia truly, I didn’t do anything,” Discord reiterated. “Honestly, last night it was all I could do to keep track of the poor beast; he kept startling and acting like he heard me and probably thought I was some wild creature stalking him out in the cold last night.”

“You were a wild creature stalking him out in the cold last night.” Celestia deadpanned, “those were your orders, to follow him any time he left the house.”

“And I did!” Discord protested, “boring though it was, I did exactly what you asked me to do, all winter long this has been going! Please Celestia, make it stop, he never does ANYTHING interesting!”

“You were supposed to tell me if something happened!” Celestia demanded. “You saw this happening and said nothing.”

“I would have informed you if he’d died,” Discord said.

It was all Celestia could do to not see red and set Discord on fire, on the other hoof, it was all Discord could do to not burst into laughter from Celestia’s contorted look of rage. This stalemate lasted for about one and a half seconds when Discord finally did burst into laughter... shortly before bursting into flames.

Normally, the sight of Discord aflame and limping about in the air yelping like a freshly scolded puppy would have been humorous to the princess; today though, her mood had not improved with the combustion of the floating squealing draconequus.

“You say that he actually sensed you?” Celestia asked.

“Ooh that smarts!” Discord ranted, putting out the last of the flames. “I *ach* yes! He... ah, there it is... ah, yes, he was able to do so somehow, it was all I could do to remain undetected.”

“This is ill news,” Celestia said, mostly to herself, “the spell is already breaking, it is happening much faster than I had anticipated.”

“I told you it wouldn’t last,” Discord said, relishing the opportunity to give Celestia an ‘I told you so’, “but did you listen to me, no no n-“

“Shh!” Celestia shushed at Discord as the sound of pony-hooves came clip-clopping down the hallway. Discord disappeared, returning to the form of a small fly that resumed its flight around the princess’s head.

“He appears ready, your highness,” Dusty said. Celestia noticed that behind the unicorn was a pair of nurses, Dr. Ethics, and her spy, so smothered in casts that he was covered nearly from head to tail. To complement the ensemble, the casts had been given a few quick “get well” and other hastily drawn sketches and ‘well-wishes’ that friends would typically leave and his coat had been treated so where it stuck out between the casts it appeared as a light green instead of his usual color and shade. The spy was so stuck and immobile that they were carting him along on a dolly.

“I am sorry,” Celestia said to her trusted ally, “but he cannot be allowed to know that he is being watched.”

The spy merely nodded a little and was carted away to Cobalt’s room.

“We shall tell him that he is being transferred because of a lack of room elsewhere,” Dr. Ethics said, “and because Cobalt doesn’t require any kind of intensive care the injuries of... well, we gave him the name ‘Emerald Star’ so if Emerald has any needs we’ll be able to get to him quickly.”

“Do you feel conflicted doctor?” Celestia asked. “I know that honesty is one of the ethics doctors and medical staff need to uphold.”

“As is confidentiality,” Dr. Ethics said. “And officially we have admitted er, Emerald into the hospital, as such, I am forbidden from telling any details of my patients. Except, of course, to said patient's other caretakers. Cobalt knows the binding ethical code so he shouldn't even ask.”

Celestia watched Dr. Ethics and the nurses as her spy was wheeled away into Cobalt’s room.

“And just so you know,” A tiny fly whispered in Celestia’s ear, “Something else was also watching over him that night. I have no idea what it was, when I went over to investigate it bit me, right on the nose, very rude. But I know he saw something because once it left he seemed to have a renewed spirit and managed the last leg home without any stops or pauses.”

Celestia turned to face the fly, about to ask Discord for more details, but the draconequus (as a fly or otherwise) was nowhere to be found.

Cobalt couldn’t help but be curious when they wheeled the bandaged pony into his room, on a dolly no less, some ponies must be too hurt for the wheelchair apparently. He watched as they positioned him onto the bed and suspended some of his bandaged legs with those weird medical suspension tools. The spectacle didn’t last long and soon Cobalt was left to his own thoughts, the newcomer was apparently either too tired or sedated to make conversation.

Feeling tired and a little worried, Cobalt turned to face the ceiling, his thoughts turning to what Celestia had told him. His condition could be fatal for him, but what condition, he felt fine... didn’t he?

Cobalt closed his eyes and explored what he felt. It wasn’t a new exercise, sometimes when he was young he experimented with his mental control, deliberately fooling himself into feeling like he was floating or falling, spinning or moving through space. He could never remove the sensation of being on his bed so he often (mentally) just took his bed with him. He could ‘feel’ his body, lying on the mattress with both of them spinning in any number of directions he wished, he’d even tried multiple directions a couple of times. He could imagine an object, and then send the object zooming far away, just so he could feel the sensation of leaving it and gain a great perspective of space and distance.

There wasn’t much that his exploration could tell him that he didn’t already know. Everything he felt was unsurprising to him. His feelings about being in the hospital, about the hoof, about his condition, about the past, none of it was surprising and thus he concluded, could not be the source of the condition.

Cobalt opened his eyes again, the exercise had not helped him very much.

Idly, Cobalt looked out the window at the clear blue sky. “How boring” he thought, and quickly turned away from the window and back at the ceiling. It was actually less boring, the ceiling, most people never realized how blank and flat the clear sky really was, it was a single solid color that shaded itself only slightly as it approached the horizon. The ceiling however was made up of smaller parts, little divots and dimples, every imperfection gave off a tiny shadow that gave the ceiling the visual noise that the blank and empty sky simply didn’t have.

The longer Cobalt looked at the ceiling though, the more his mind got familiar with it and he almost mentally cringed at the realization of the inevitable, the ceiling eventually became just as boring to him. As a last ditch effort for something to do he started looking more closely to try and find some small hidden detail, a little divot that looked like a moon crater, a weird stain that didn’t look like anything, something, alas, it was officially boring.

Disgusted, Cobalt turned toward the window, staring at the wall. He wanted this to be a dream, he wanted it to go away, to disappear, just let him be.

What happened? Why is it... that’s all I can think about? Why do I... He found it difficult to continue the thought.

“What happened to me?” Cobalt said to himself aloud, opening his eyes, only now discovering that he had closed them. “I used to be so curious, I’d find the idea that that’s all I could think about... interesting... is that what changed in me, I have no curiosity?”

He considered further, no, he was still curious, but... he couldn’t think much beyond it. If he was curious, then why did he just want things to go away?

He continued trying to figure out why, momentarily squinting as the sun glared at him for a moment through the window.

This was disconcerting, trying to dig deeper Cobalt checked other things he liked. One, two, three... more and more, every time he found something he liked, he found that it felt dead, they were no more motivating than the fading light coming through the window, which seemed ironic for some reason Cobalt couldn’t understand.

Everything seemed dead to him, as though they were once pleasant, but not anymore, as though...

“As though, I’ve given up on them,” Cobalt said to himself.

It was a painful thought, the idea that he’d given up on everything, also the realization that, for some reason, he had still given up on them, as though he couldn’t simply change his mind about it. He had given up, abandoned them, and for some reason, he was unable to go back.

“When did this happen?” Cobalt asked nobody in particular. For a moment, Cobalt thought he was asking the moon as it rose past his window, but no, he was talking to himself.

Cobalt didn’t need to think very long before he remembered.

“In the snow,” Cobalt said, the room dark light in the sky becoming slightly more illuminated. “It was in the snow, when I thought... when I knew I was going to die, I just wanted everything to end. I just thought that... it would be too painful, that it wasn’t worth it. I gave up, because I thought it would be too hard and I didn’t want to do it. I ran away, I tried running away from life itself... like I always do.”

He cringed, the full realization of what he'd done hitting him hard. There really was magic here, if he'd done this at home he could just pick himself up tomorrow and forget about it, but here it was different, he needed to be careful.

A bitter taste entered his mind, a taste he was familiar with, one more obstacle, one more thing to be avoided, to keep away from, one more thing to be afraid of. Unbidden, other fears and obstacles came to his mind, crushing down in a great rush, as though this small revelation had sparked an avalanche of depression and fear.

Cobalt tried to open his eyes but he couldn’t seem to escape the metaphor, it had taken a life of its own in his mind. He wanted to escape, to flee, to get out, his own fears were crushing him.

“Why did I get into this?” Cobalt asked himself, “no, no these things. I need to get away from them, to... to avoid them... like I always have.”

Cobalt quieted his mind, trying to calm down and regain his perspective.

“I’ve always run away, haven’t I?” Cobalt asked himself, the metaphor disappearing even as he did so, now that he found himself focused on something other than just the fears themselves. Idly he found himself opening his eyes again, the light pouring in from the window once more. “But... I can’t do that. I shouldn’t do that.”

Cobalt’s eyes closed as his mind was seized upon by an unseen force that took him away. He saw the snow, the ice, the pain and, in his horror, he saw the truth... he had never made it back, he wasn’t in the hospital, he had merely dreamed of it in a hypothermia induced dream; the Melon’s house and the warmth of the fireplace: just numbness, the flight to the hospital: the wind picking up and chilling him again, the princess and the light from the window: just the light of the stars; he’d dreamed it all up in his cold delirium.

“There is no choice,” Cobalt said, “I must go on.”

The horror of reality pressed even further into his mind, the cold had seeped into his lungs, his heart, his body was numb from the inside and he could barely move his legs, if hypothermia wasn't going to kill him, pneumonia certainly would. Could he possibly try to go on when he knew the inevitable outcome, how dare he make such a mockery of his life, to struggle futily, to die like a worm, couldn’t he simply end his struggle, give up and die with what little dignity he could muster, it was all he had left after all.

“That’s not me.” Cobalt said, his lips, so frozen they cracked as he spoke. “What do I care about dignity, is it more dignified to die a quitter, or to die trying?”

Again the crushing feeling came, how could he break his habit, he was a quitter, always losing and quitting when things got tough, isn’t this how quitters should end? Isn’t this how a loser should go, isn’t this what they deserved, the very fate they had brought upon themselves? How could he be so hypocritical?

“That’s not me either,” Cobalt said again, his frame shaking from exhaustion and exertion. “I get distracted, and frustrated, and yeah, sometimes I give up. But I beat Wily, I beat lots of games, I never quit on them, I finished school, it was hard and I took the long way, but I got it done. I only regret when I did quit. But if I was a quitter...I would never... I wouldn’t have made it here!”

Pain, raw pain, like needles all over, Cobalt was certain that his body was freezing and splintering into tiny needle-like shards all over. The more he tried the more it hurt.

“But...” Cobalt said, “I’m also stubborn, and if I really am here... then I have already seen what could be, and I want it!”

Cobalt pressed his mind and abandoned reality, forcing it aside and away from him, peeling himself therefrom and thrust it away, like his mental exercises so too did he now toss away reality itself.

“You’re no reality,” Cobalt said dangerously, opening his eyes at the vision before him. There in front of him, in the silhouette of a pony about his size, was the ‘reality he had just seen all else was dark, like an inverse of a black shadow in the light, it was a world surrounded by a dark shadow between them. Cobalt stared at it, now realizing that it wasn’t a reality, it was merely a vision.

“Did I create you?” Cobalt asked, “or were you conjured to torment me?”

The vision did not answer.

“I’m not giving up, here or there,” Cobalt said “Bring it, send me back, I’ll make my choice, I didn’t die then, and you’re not going to kill me now.”

The vision didn’t dissolve, but it did expand, formless and pushing, Cobalt felt fear, raw, uncomplicated, fear. But he knew it now, the vision wanted to justify itself, wanted to live, or rather, to kill. Cobalt knew that well, anger, lust, greed, they all had ways of persuasion and self-justification, by justifying a little, they could justify a lot. Even so, the fears surrounded him like a world of rocks tumbling over and over on top of him, but acting as a solid mass of stone, crushing him.

“Yes, I’m afraid.” Cobalt said, once again finding himself being crushed, not by many fears but a single super-oppressive one. “But... I accept that, I need that even, without fear, I cannot know what to avoid, but I can’t let that control me either. I must face and control my own fears and stop running away from them, or they will kill me.”

He found that part of him that had been running away, it was easy now, it was so obvious now that the answer had been revealed, the other old friend ‘depression’ stirred but Cobalt held it back easily enough, of course he wasn’t stupid, riddles are always easier to figure out once you know the answer, no need to berate himself for only now seeing how easy the answer was. No more was he being crushed in the stone, now he was in it, and as he accepted and took control of it, it cracked and crumbled to dust before him.

Threats were real, but the fear was just a shadow.

Once again Cobalt opened his eyes, feeling exhausted and very hungry as he squinted against the evening light. Cobalt blinked, feeling a little numb emotionally. Idly he checked, yes, he wanted things, things in the future, things for others, for himself, his goals and desires were no longer dead to him. They weren't exactly alight either though, like a computer turning on from having been off for a while, his 'system' apparently, needed some time to fully reboot.

Cobalt saw his roommate shift slightly, was his memory fritzed or did he actually remember seeing his roommate having done that more than once? The nurse came in momentarily and then left.

Memories of his time in the hospital thus far seemed blurred but not because he couldn’t see them, it was more like they were... compacted, contained in a zip file where it was hard to reach.

Cobalt looked out the window again, was that really evening? It was morning when...

Darkness, Cobalt remembered having seen darkness from the window sometime during his time here, when was it? Heck, what DAY was it?! A quick but light flurry of emotions swept through him, first panic at not knowing, then a combination of embarrassment and self-derision at realizing that he had just fought against his own fears and was already panicking, then a forced calm and finally a not-so-forced calm as he came to grips with the situation. Time, or the perception thereof, appeared to have slipped from him during his meditations.

“We were just about to begin serving dinner,” said a nurse, pushing a cart in front of her. The cart looked busy and Cobalt’s eager eyes scanned the entire thing. It was a silvery metal thing with many levels inside of it, each level carried several short trays with plates. The far side of the cart had several lidded cups in cup-holders. On the side of the cart was a place for dirty dishes. Cobalt did not see many vacancies for either plates, trays, or cups so they must have been fairly early in the rounds.

“And we...” the nurse said, looking Cobalt over quickly. “Well, you’re looking better.”

Cobalt looked at himself, sure enough, he wasn’t gray anymore, instead his coat was... a sapphire blue?!

“These aren’t my colors,” Cobalt said idly, “I’m supposed to be a darker blue than this.”

Cobalt couldn’t identify the stuff on his plate that the nurse (or orderly, or whatever title was given to the ponies that served dinner) served to him but he didn’t care either, nor did it last long enough for him to really taste it.

Dr. Ethics stopped in shortly afterwards, looking him over.

“Doctor,” Cobalt said, “I think I should tell you, this isn’t my color, my coat I mean, it’s supposed to be more of a navy blue, not this... neutral... plain... blue.”

“Sapphire-Blue I would say,” Dr. Ethics said, looking him over.

“You’ll be informing Celestia about this?” Cobalt asked.

“Princess Celestia,” Dr. Ethics corrected, “has already been informed.”

Cobalt looked out the window again.

“How long have I been...?” Cobalt asked, unsure how to phrase it.

“Two days,” Dr. Ethics said, “you came here yesterday morning.”

“So...” Cobalt said, “it took all night and... why?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Ethics said, “quite frankly I have no idea what you were doing, you would spend hours just staring in the same direction and barely move at all. Honestly I was worried we were going to lose you. I was also a little worried your eyes might dry out, you barely blinked.”

“So was I,” Cobalt said, “Hey, if you’ve got some time, I think it might help to know what... happened.”

“Alright,” Dr. Ethics said calmly.

Cobalt spent the next half hour relaying what had happened since learning that he had turned gray and been determined to undo it. He wasn’t sure how much of it was of any use to the doctor or to future medicine but even so, he felt it was important to have it for the record anyway.

“Well,” Dr. Ethics said when he’d finished writing the last of Cobalt’s report, “this certainly gives us some things to think about in the future. But, how do you feel, right now I mean?”

“Right now?” Cobalt repeated at the doctor, “right now I guess I just feel a little tired and...”

Cobalt’s voice trailed off as a soft light entered from the window, within seconds the princess of the sun stood before them. Dr. Ethics bowed low, Cobalt tried to nod though it was difficult because he was still stiff and lying on his back, even his roommate tried shifting as though attempting a bow, though the casts prevented this.

“So, it is as I was told,” Celestia said, “you have banished your gray-ness.”

“I don’t understand though,” Cobalt said, “this... this blue isn’t my natural color.”

“Perhaps it is,” Celestia said mysteriously, “perhaps you have only now achieved it.”

Cobalt gave her a puzzled look.

“You are in a rather unique situation,” Celestia said, as though answering his unasked question.

Cobalt smiled a bit, she'd all but thrown his "I am not most ponies" back at him, and as a joke no less. Cobalt laid back, his body expressing the straining sensation of tiredness that he felt. It really gave light to the shift in his situation, to go from grave to gags.

“Well,” Celestia said, “Cobalt, if you don’t mind me asking, but I know that you... saw something, when you were out in the snow. Do you mind telling me what it is you saw?”

Cobalt looked at her for a moment, his face unreadable.

“Don’t bother guessing,” Celestia said, “it isn’t anypony you know.”

“So...” Cobalt said, still thinking.

“Yes,” Celestia said, “he informed me that you thought that something was following you, there was, only he wasn’t dangerous... well, he wasn’t a danger to you... mostly.”

Cobalt thought about that, catching the fact that Celestia apparently didn’t want to lie but also wanted to reassure him about whomever it was that had been following him.

“If you will allow me,” Celestia said, lowering her horn as it started to glow, “all you need do is try and recall what happened.”

Cobalt closed his eyes and tried replaying the vision in his mind, it came surprisingly easy, he could almost feel some kind of force actually helping his memory. He was able to recall all of it, the initial whiteness of everything, the voice, the sense of clutter and debris, everything. Cobalt opened his eyes again.

“Do you know what it means?” Cobalt asked.

“I have some ideas,” Celestia said, “but they aren’t important right now, what is important is that you have fixed the real problem and now you can get on with fixing the next one.”

Celestia indicated Cobalt’s hoof, still wrapped up.

“Yeah, that...” Cobalt said, feeling suddenly embarrassed, it was his own fault it had happened.

“Please keep me informed doctor,” Celestia said, turning to go, she was just about through the door when Cobalt’s voice stopped her.

“Princess,” Cobalt said, “you said that the Earth Ponies created the cutie marks. But other ponies have them. Did they get them by inheritance or...?

Cobalt left the question hang because he knew there were millions of possibilities and he didn’t want to have to spend the energy trying every one of them, leaving it open invited Celestia to simply insert her own option.

“The power they used to create the Cutie Marks,” Princess Celestia responded, “was extended to all ponies when the others joined them. It is more complicated than that but the answer to your true question is ‘yes, even though you were not related to any Earth Ponies, you can still earn a Cutie Mark’.”

Cobalt said nothing for a while, still taking in the sensation of pleasant surprise at having the princess not only answer his question but guess at the purpose thereof and answer that question as well. Celestia, seeing Cobalt’s meditation, turned to go but Cobalt stopped her (again) with another question that halted not only her gait, but her very thought process as well.

“Do you want to take your spy with you?” Cobalt asked.

Celestia stopped dead in her tracks, having been taken completely off guard by the question. After a moment’s hesitation she continued through the doorway.

“That won’t convince me, I know he’s not really a patient,” Cobalt said, “and there’s no point in keeping him here if I know.”

Celestia poked her head through the doorway a moment later.

“And just what convinces you that there is a spy at all?” Celestia asked.

“Not a bad ploy,” Cobalt commented, taking a deep breath. “You obviously either want to keep him here or keep me under watch, best way to keep his cover is to maintain innocence and feign ignorance. But... it won’t work.--‘

‘--First off, he’s bandaged way too much to be able to comfortably move around. His cutie mark is covered, either you want to keep it secret or he’s broken his hip, but anypony that broke their hip would likely be in excruciating pain if he moved unless he was on some serious drugs.--‘

‘--But again, drugs means that he’d need constant monitoring or a machine to administer them, I have seen no special monitoring and no such machine is hooked up, not even a bag of saline. On top of this, he does move around occasionally as though uncomfortable sitting still, but if he really were that badly injured, moving around would be uncomfortable and sitting still would be the comfort.”

Cobalt exhaled what little breath he had remaining and continued.

“He’s got marks on his bandages as though someone’s been drawing on it yet he doesn’t have any ‘get well’ packages, no balloons, no visitors that I’ve noticed, nothing. It’s as though they were put there to look real, but aren’t.--‘

‘--Then there’s the little blue stains around the edges of every bandage and cast he’s got. I’d guess it’s part of a dye to cover his real color, I’m guessing yellow because the stains are blue and he currently appears green.”

Cobalt paused to catch his breath again.

“And finally... he was placed in this room shortly after I arrived. Given the psychological and not physical nature of what I was trying to recover from, this seems rather... counterintuitive, having somepony so badly injured next to somepony that is going through psychological trauma can’t be helpful. Conclusion, he’s a spy who’s been watching my every move and bandaged up so badly so as to both hide his presence and to not invite me to converse with him. Not that I’ve been doing much of that anyway.”

Cobalt was silent while he tried to recover from having talked so much while breathing so little.

“Impressive,” Celestia said finally, and turned to leave.

Cobalt watched as a few minutes later a couple of nurses came in and wheeled the roommate out of the room in a dolly. Despite how impressed he felt with himself for having figured it out, he also felt the room was a little emptier now. Still, part of the reason he’d mentioned it was because in realizing that his roommate was a spy, he also realized how horribly uncomfortable it must be to be stuck like that. Cobalt felt that being stuck like that watching somebody recovering for what could be like weeks was the kind of torture he wouldn’t want inflicted upon anybody.

After all, it was hard enough for Cobalt to do it, he couldn’t imagine how much harder it would be to do it and be completely bandaged up like that.

The night passed uneventfully as did the following day, sans the occasional interruptions for meals, bathroom breaks (tediously reaching the bathroom while staying off his bad hoof), occasional examinations, and just before dinner Cobalt managed to get a new roommate; a unicorn named Cherry Glow who had somehow managed to burn her face with a miscast spell.

Report: (12/14) 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

The hospital is boring, I mean it too. It’s nice enough, but waiting around for my hoof to heal is no fun, I’ve been here for a few days and things are progressing well. Honestly, I don’t know what to say, the other patients (what few I’ve met) complain about the food but, honestly, I don’t care, I’m hungry -> I eat.

I made a decision earlier today. I decided that Dr. Ethics should be my personal physician. Dusty doesn’t like this but I do. If I’m not in Canterlot then the doctors there can’t help me if I get into trouble again. With Dr. Ethics here I can stick around and if I get into trouble he has all my records so anything unusual he’ll already know and won’t freak out about it. It also helps to keep other ponies from getting freaked out, they can just keep me in a room on my own (even if it is a smaller one). My lack of a cutie mark still freaks some of these ponies out. I’ve gone through two roommates so far and now I’m alone. I don’t mind but I’m kinda sad about that. Sad isn’t really the word, I think maybe ‘apologetic’ is better.

Dusty made a huge fit over my decision. Apparently, because I’m not actually a citizen of Equestria there’s some fuss over whether or not I’m even allowed to have a personal physician. Whatever, Celestia stepped in eventually and settled things. I was stuck in my room so I didn’t hear what she said to him but apparently he isn’t taking it very well. Hmm, I hope he doesn’t take it out on me, actually what I hope is that things will get better for him. I think he's got some 'life problems'. I say this because face to face he's nice enough to me, but when it comes to me making decisions and stuff, he always acts like it upsets him or something.

I still think it’s funny though, for a pony to have six limbs, eh, maybe that one is also just me, maybe I spent too much time looking at weird critters and messing with strange ideas, sometimes I feel like an ant (6 legs). To whomever is reading this, did you know that when you see a big ant-fight (covers the ground) and you put your ear close enough (don’t touch them they’ll bite!) you can actually hear them clanking around? IT’S TRUE!

Celestia came by yesterday, she wanted me to re-read the book I had borrowed from Twilight’s library. I admit I actually panicked a little, I know how nuts she can get over late library books but Celestia said she’d already talked to her about it so I guess it got renewed. I hope it did or Ms. Sparkle’s going to be scary when I finally DO get around to returning it.

Dr. Ethics is excited about my hoof and believes that if it keeps making the progress it currently is then I should be able to leave the hospital soon.

They did something weird, they literally glued my hoof back together. Effectively it was like a hot-glue gun that they squeezed into the narrow crack and then put my hoof into a really tight bandage until the glue could cool and seal. It isn’t as strong as the real thing (of course) but it is strong enough that if I accidentally step on it then it shouldn’t be so hard on it. I admit I cringed when I heard the word ‘glue’ given the concept from back home of using dead horses to sell to the ‘glue factory’. No idea how horses could be used to make glue, the hooves maybe? No real way to look it up though, not only no internet but I doubt it’d be the same thing here. That’d be ironic. Either way, I cringed a bit.

They also managed to discover something else as well.

I think I’ve basically been afflicted with a kind of pseudo-grayness since I got here. My coat is lighter, I'd call it a kind of neutral blue-ish but they insist, it's 'sapphire-blue'. Apparently, with so many different colors for manes and coats and stuff, they get a little picky on exactly what color something is. Go figure, but the green stripe is still there, still green and still a stripe, still both the mane and the tail. Also, my hooves were of a consistency that you’d get with foals and younger ones, easy to grow in but unable to withstand greater deals of pressure, that’s why mine cracked.

I think this is also why I have been unable to fly for so long. I mean, it’s unlikely I could have flown right from the get-go, but in this case it wasn’t just being unfit or overweight or anything so much as they just didn’t have the magical strength to do anything. Same basic deal with my hooves, they’re stuck being weak until the thicker ‘adult’ hoof can grow in, that’ll take months.

Ah well, now I know, not only is that “half the battle” but I have been a rather firm believer that what you don’t know can and will hurt you.

Report: (12/20) 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

I feel so guilty right now.

I got a letter with three silver-lined tickets to attend a play in Canterlot. It’s called the ‘Hearth’s Warming Eve Pageant’ and apparently it is a big deal in Canterlot. Red and Orange were both very excited as we are all invited to attend. At first I was a little down, I mean, it’s just another snooty event in Canterlot right? I’ll have to try and probably manage some kind of covering for my blank flank and try to mingle amongst people that I’d rather punch in the face and run away laughing. Okay so maybe not quite that bad, but honestly, some of those guys practically defined the reason I was happy to leave Canterlot.

I feel guilty because this is their equivalent of Christmas back home, gifts and everything, and I have nothing to give really. Maybe I can pick up a gift or two in Canterlot or something. It’ll have to be cheap though, I don’t get much from the reports I write.

I also feel (a little) guilty because I realize that I might have misjudged the play at first. It might be something cool like ‘A Christmas Carol’ or something. I still remember that Speech class where we had to give a class presentation to show what we’d learned. I did a kind of parody of Scrooge’s funeral, that is, the ‘good’ Scrooge finally died and the speaker (me) was all ‘how dare you die after turning good’ and ‘we could have celebrated this day instead of mourning it!’ I made it work, fake accent and all.

Princess Luna, having recently been informed, took her place upon the tower to keep watch over the ponies of Equestria that night. As she did so, Princess Celestia took a slight detour from the way to the bedroom down to Dusty Legend’s office.

“It is time,” Celestia said, “we need to bring in the rest, and soon, he isn’t safe alone, none of them are. Now that I know what caused this mess, I know that the last thing he needs is to feel that he is alone. And... I fear that our enemy will move against them when and where they are weak. If we have any hope of keeping them safe, we must keep them together.”

Dusty looked at her for a moment, unsure what to say, finally he responded.

“At once your majesty,” Dusty said, bowing low. Inwardly, he hoped this would end up nabbing him a better office.

Author's Note

This took SOOOOOOOOOO long! Each step was like pulling teeth to get it done! I had hoped by taking the general ideas and grinding them down to smaller and more detailed steps I would be able to assist myself in making the full story. Instead I ended up just staring at the same spot for weeks without writing ANYTHING! I didn't even bother with the third step for the last few sections and just started writing without said guidelines. At least it's over.

And that, my reader(s?!) is why I HATE doing hospital scenes, which is ironic because I must have done like five in my pokemon fanfic on DA. (shyal-malkes on DA)

RETCON notes: Not much really, mostly changing dates and making some phrases a little smoother. I think the closer I get to the "present" chapters, the closer they are getting to what I want, so the less I have to change. This is good.

Chapter 05: Extended Pageant

The Price of Wings
Chapter: 05
"Extended Edition"

Written by Arcict Gray

Report: (12/23) 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

So, back to Ponyville, for today anyway. They’ve set me up in a hotel there. Anyway, I’m staying the night because tomorrow is the day of the play. Ahem, “Pageant” as Dusty, also known as the-busybody-who-never-stops-looking-over-my-shoulder-and-I'm-gonna-cuff-his-nosy-muzzle-if-he-keeps-it-up, has just corrected me, apparently it is not a “play” but a “pageant” and I don’t care what the difference is Dusty!

I also need to get this done because we have a schedule to keep today. I’m going over to a place called The Carousel Boutique to get something a bit more formal than my usual old rag cape/cloak. I mean, I know it’s gaudy and ghetto looking, but it saved my life for crying out loud. Yeah, yeah, I know I hang on to stuff like that but honestly, there isn’t much else here for me to hang on to. Between lacking hands and the general lack of clothes my typical clinginess makes me feel like I’m some kind of monkey amongst otherwise normal people.

It makes me think things, most of which don’t make much sense, even to me, so if you’re curious, tough luck, I’m not writing them. :P

Cobalt stood rigid and still, as though on pins and needles, in actuality however, the pins and needles were on him.

Rarity, in her usual creative fashion, had gone to work, using Cobalt’s own figure as a kind of living mannequin to save time. As fascinated as Cobalt was with pony magic, the fact that it was being used to push pins into cloth only a few millimeters from his skin was far more stressful than he felt comfortable with.

It was not only tense, it was also boring, between the boredom and the occasional poke he received, Cobalt’s mind burned for something to actually think about, the local gossip was considerably wanting in terms of anything interesting.

“...and I was just so embarrassed I couldn’t bring myself to admit what I’d done, so I just didn’t tell her and hoped I wouldn’t get caught.” Rarity said, continuing the story she’d been telling. It took Cobalt a moment before he realized that she was pausing so as to give his own input.

“Ah,” Cobalt said finally, “so... what, happened?” Cobalt was unsure he’d heard her reach a climactic point in the conversation so he could only presume that she had been building up to it.

“Well, I...” Rarity said, apparently embarrassed by something in the story. “That is, at first things seemed to go alright. Twilight seemed to like the simplicity of the dress and the two parties were happening close enough together that at first I was able to keep up appearances by hopping from one to another...”

Cobalt waited until he realized that Rarity was apparently not finishing the story.

“But...” Cobalt said, careful to try and remain as still as possible, “I presume something happened.”

“I got caught” Rarity admitted, “and of course it all came out then.”

“Typical,” Cobalt said, “trying to keep secrets is usually harder than just admitting things to begin with.”

“Usually, yes” Rarity agreed, discarding another swatch, “hmmm, I don’t like the shade, it’s too dark.”

“I like it dark,” Cobalt responded.

“Nonsense, you’re going to be in the company of the princess!” Rarity exclaimed, “you’ll need to look your royal best!”

“Why?” Cobalt asked, “to impress Celestia? Even if I cared about impressing her, it’s a bit too short-notice to try something that fancy, dontcha think?”

“Oh, well it’s not just for her,” Rarity cautioned, “but for all of Canterlot! Everypony who’s anypony will be there and see you!”

“Not up close they won’t,” Cobalt countered, “we’re not part of her guard, and we’re not escorting her or anything, nopony’s going to see us with her. Even in the booth we’ll be up in a high balcony and too far away for anypony to really see us. Well, properly anyway.”

“Hrrrrrm,” Rarity said under her breath, considering.

“I mean, you can make it look good of course,” Cobalt said quickly, “no sense just slapping some crap together right? and I do like the color, and purples can go with my blue... coat, sorry, I was about to say ‘fur’. But anyway, I’m thinking more blend in rather than stand out.”

There was silence for a moment and the atmosphere seemed to shift slightly, it wasn’t much but there was a definite impression that things were getting serious.

“And you’re sure you don’t want it... fancy?” Rarity tried one last time.

“Yes ma’am, I’m sure.” Cobalt said, his frustration hard to hold back, he hoped his voice sounded ‘firm’ rather than ‘frustrated’.

Cobalt thought he heard Rarity say something like “well enough” as she trotted around, almost absent-mindedly. He couldn’t tell whether her direction had a purpose or not, she seemed to be checking various supplies she had, much as she had been doing just a minute ago, but her sense of urgency and rush was gone.

“What...” Rarity said finally, “are the most important qualities?”

“It is going before the princess,” Dusty said before Cobalt could say anything, “that should be first priority.”

“You get to say that when you’re the pony wearing the needles needed to make it.” Cobalt said. “MY first priority is that it needs to be able to breathe, at least a little. I mean the color is fine, but the second priority should be to keep it simple, something that’s not going to trip me up while I’m walking; truth be told I’m still kind of new at it so anything that can avoid complicating my coordination is crucial. As for colors... maybe something dark-ish would work well enough, lighter highlights to counter the shade but...”

“Hmmm, Gold clashes with the blue...” Rarity said musing.

“..aaand I’ve always preferred silver over gold...?” Cobalt said, uncertain if Rarity had been speaking to him or just to herself.

“Hmmm,” Rarity mused again.

“So, maybe a little something different for the highlights,” Cobalt said, trying to keep up with where he thought her train of thought was going, “and the rest should... I dunno, make itself? Oh, and it’ll need to cover my flank, I still don’t have a cutie-mark so I want to avoid that embarrassment.”

“Highlights... different how?” Rarity mused, but answered herself before Cobalt or Dusty could say anything. “Color, it needs a splash of color, blue and purple or... indigo?”

It took Cobalt a moment before he realized that Rarity was looking at him, she had intended the question towards him.

“Sure...” Cobalt said, trying not to let the sudden shifts in who she was talking to jar him. Rarity seemed to be taking this much more seriously than he was, “I mean, I’ve usually preferred colors favoring the blue-end than not. Cool colors.”

“It’s settled then,” Rarity said with finality.

“Um,” Dusty said, fairly confused by the conversation, “I’m sorry but, what’s settled?”

“Basic vest, I’ll need a fabric that can breathe... and a cape for the flank.” Rarity said, mostly to herself, she turned her head to face a shelf from which she lifted rolls of fabric with her telekinesis and brought them, one by one, close so she could examine them. “Indigo, just a hair darker than the coat, silver-white trim, and aqua highlights. Now, what shape should... Ah! Idea!”

For a moment Cobalt was afraid this ‘idea’ would result in even more pins. He was relieved therefore when he felt the bits of cloth and needles begin to slide away off of him and move, hovering in the air as Rarity’s magic took them. Cobalt, almost on instinct got down from the dais, relieved to be away from all the needles.

“So,” Dusty said, “about how much should this cost?”

Rarity turned to look at him suddenly, as though being pulled out of thought, a strange look on her face, as though conflicted about something.

“Dude,” Cobalt said, partially under his breath and maneuvering around Dusty as though to herd him out towards the boutique’s entrance, “not with the numbers, not when she’s creating.”

Outside Dusty’s mood turned south slightly.

“I usually prefer to know what I’m buying, and specifically how much it costs,” Dusty said, “preferably sometime before actually buying it.”

“Yeah, yeah” Cobalt said, “I do too, but seriously? She’s an artist, right brain, creative thinking, abstract concepts like shapes and connections and patterns and the like, asking her about numbers and money is... is like... I dunno, I need a good analogy. It’s like trying to turn left and right at the same time.”

They spent much the rest of the day touring Ponyville, that is, Cobalt spent much of the day touring Ponyville. Dusty spent the time trailing Cobalt and trying to drill into him their schedule as well as the importance of etiquette. Cobalt, despite his hoof being wrapped for both structural and thermal support, did his best to stay off of it, resulting in him often doing a slight limp as he walked.

“Dude,” Cobalt said after the umpteenth mention of their schedule, “if I make a mistake I’ll just apologize and leave it at that.”

“That, is a good way to get on somepony’s bad side,” Dusty argued, “if you want to go hobnobbing it with the rich and powerful you need to make it look like you belong there!”

“I don’t belong there, and I don’t want to go hobnobbing either.” Cobalt breathed in near exasperation and turning to face Dusty directly, “And a good thing too, back home I could barely stand dressing up, I could NEVER stand the idea of needing to wear them all the time! And all that just to impress some pony?! Totally not worth it! And even so, I’m just somepony that got invited, that doesn’t mean I belong there.”

“You...” Dusty said, uncertain how to respond, looking almost hurt by Cobalt’s remark. “You seem to have made up your mind about that. How do you know you won’t like it later on? I mean, you’re a special ambassador in the biggest and most secretive project I’ve ever seen Princess Celestia undertake! Why do you think you won’t someday be... well, be somepony?!”

“Because I’m me,” Cobalt said, approaching Dusty until their faces were mere inches apart, “I’m not greedy, I’m not ambitious, I’m not manipulative, tyrannical, or megalomaniacal, and I see nothing for me in any of this. The most I want from powerful people is for them to leave me the heck alone, is that too much to ask?...

...And what’s more is that it’s impossible anyway. The powerful have one trend. That trend is isolation and control, they isolate those in power so that nobody can use them to get into power, and they use that isolation to control others with power. Those with power will, sooner or later, seek absolute power, or if they cannot get it, will seek to ensure that nobody else can get any either...

...If left unchecked, it leads to either a peak or a plateau of the most powerful, with the rest underneath them. The only reason why this is challenged is because Celestia IS the peak already, not just in power, but in loyalty, anypony, heck, anyTHING with delusions of grandeur will need to factor in how they’re going to maintain power over a nation that is in open rebellion against them...

...So, we have a single, simple and un-ambitious pony, that you’re encouraging to try and impress these... powerful ponies, to insert myself into this game of politics and manipulation, greed and ambition, and... do what with it exactly? Win somehow? No, we both know, that’s not a game I’m going to win. Winning it would require a very focused mind, would require manipulations on multiple levels, multiple betrayals and seductions of many kinds of folks, and all to win a game that Celestia herself has proven to be moot anyway...

...So yeah, that’s a game that I do not need nor WANT to play.”

Dusty wasn’t sure how to take this, he was too stunned by the sudden change in Cobalt’s attitude. He was also stunned because of the expectations he’d had for Cobalt, certainly after having lived in such simple and painfully plain conditions with some Earth Pony farmers Cobalt would desire for the Canterlot life again. But this, this was completely unexpected, and the sudden shift from Dusty’s expectations to this new reality had left him with his head almost spinning. Not just expectations, but several plans had also been dashed to pieces as well.

“Y... you’re standing in the middle of the road.” Dusty said nervously, he wasn’t scared of Cobalt, but Cobalt’s current state of mind had made him feel very uncertain of himself.

Cobalt glanced around; he was indeed in the middle of the road, though you wouldn’t know it for the lack of traffic at the moment.

“So I am,” Cobalt declared as if saying something that was news, and he left on down the road. Still partially confused, Dusty hurried to keep up as they continued the tour of Ponyville.

Even in winter Ponyville was practically a hub of activity. True, Cobalt reminisced, it wasn’t nearly as buzzing as Canterlot had been the last time he’d been there, but if Ponyville was still this active during winter Cobalt could barely imagine how busy Canterlot was right now. Padded and insulated saddles and scarves were the norm, as were the snowball fights. Twice Cobalt and Dusty had to keep a low profile to avoid getting dragged into them as they passed by.

“So,” Cobalt asked as they continued, the sun slowly creeping its way down to the horizon. “Ya think we’ve got time to catch a matinée or something?”

“No,” Dusty said, looking at the sky. “Truth be told we should really go back to the boutique and see if your ensemble is ready.”

“Really?” Cobalt said, also looking up, “it’s gotta be only mid-afternoon, we’ve got time, don’t we?”

“Not really,” Dusty replied, “you forget the sun goes down more quickly during the winter, we’ve only got an hour or so before it gets dark. Is it so different on your world?”

“No,” Cobalt mused, remembering and inwardly cursing himself for making such an easy slip, of course he knew, days in winter were shorter than during the summer.

“So, what have we got time for then?” Cobalt asked.

“We have time to get back to the boutique.” Dusty replied dryly.

“Fine,” Cobalt sighed, resigning to the fact that their fun-day was over. He was also resigning to needing to go back to ‘the place with all the needles’ which made his gait all the slower. If there was one thing that encouraged him to go back, his hoof was starting to feel numb, urging him to get to somewhere warmer.

Rarity, despite how short their trip exploring Ponyville had been, was indeed finished. It was a sharp vest, of a proud indigo color, sporting silver trim that, though it seemed a little too bright for Cobalt’s taste, yet he said nothing, it was fine. The front of the vest sported a crest featuring a pair of feathered wings, light turquoise in color, above the wings hovered a single white halo pierced through the center by a lightning-bolt. The cape attached at the shoulders and flowed to his tail where it split and trailed halfway down his hind-legs, covering his flanks. The cape was a flowing color gradient, starting with a snow-turquoise along his back and head and flowing to a deep jungle-green at the tails. Where the cutie-mark would be the cape featured the same wing/halo/bolt crest.

“Cool!” was all Cobalt could say.

“Which pageant are you planning to attend?” Rarity asked, returning supplies and tools of the trade back to their proper places.

“The… er, Hearth’s Warming one… I think.” Cobalt said, having never had a good memory for names.

“Oh!” Rarity exclaimed. “I remember being in that one! An abbreviated one of course.”

“A… abbreviated?” Cobalt asked.

“Well of course,” Rarity said, matter-of-factly “there are so many plays that get performed, especially in the most popular theaters, to accommodate more plays they abbreviate them. Hearth’s Warming Eve is especially easy because it has an ending that is fairly self-contained. The abbreviated play only focuses on the end, where the three tribes are already at odds with each other and…”

“Perhaps,” Dusty interrupted, “it would be better to avoid any spoilers?”

“Oh! Oh yes of course.” Rarity said, “I’m sorry, it is just rather rare to meet somepony who hasn’t seen the pageant before.”

“That’d explain why Celestia wants me to see it.” Cobalt said, “if every-pony has already done so it’s probably a decent staple in Equestrian society.”

“It would certainly help to give a good background about Equestria.” Dusty said, “but be ready for a boring thing, most have seen the full version, but they only see that one once, they usually watch the abbreviated ones deliberately. It’s so long you see.”

That night Cobalt tried contrasting the hotel to the old farm. His room at the farm was comfortable and familiar but small, his hotel room was larger but sterile and professional, too artificial for his taste. Even so, he made the best of it and slept well, getting up early enough that they easily made the train to Canterlot. The train was a dedicated passenger train which meant that it traveled faster and took a sharper curved route than cargo-trains. True, some cargo trains carried passengers, but their route took longer because they traveled slower so as to avoid anything bad happening to the cargo.

Canterlot, turned out to be just as bustling as Cobalt had guessed. It was compact enough that residential, commercial and governmental buildings could all be found on the same city block. Everywhere in the snow were signs of festivities, from the 8-foot candy canes (which Cobalt soon discovered could actually be of almost any length, 8-foot was just the standard name), the small snow-buildings and structures that usually only remained standing by the magic of their makers, and there were various decorations all around the streets and buildings.

As before with his time in Canterlot, Cobalt got the distinct impression of being the odd-pony-out, there were so many unicorns and so few earth-ponies. At least in Ponyville there seemed a more even distribution, if anything the earth-ponies outnumbered the others. It was much more distinct here though, the earth-ponies couldn’t fly and neither could he for now, but he’d never be able to use magic like they did here, what was more they used so much of it that it just felt like a kind of handicap not having it.

“How is the city held up?” Cobalt asked Dusty as they made their way through the bustling streets and hoping for a distraction.

“Not sure,” Dusty said, “I know that the foundations came from Cloudsdale though.”

“Cloudsdale came before Canterlot?!” Cobalt asked.

“Yes,” Dusty said, “Cloudsdale is one of the oldest settlements in Equestria. In fact, if I recall correctly, the full version of the pageant should show the beginnings of how Cloudsdale got started.”

“Spoilers?” Cobalt said, realizing that Dusty had left the explanation kind of hanging.

“Not… really,” Dusty said. “I mean, yeah it’s kinda telling but…”

“Well, if I recall correctly,” Cobalt said “it is how Equestria got started, kinda a spoiler to say that it ended with, well, Equestria.”

Dusty laughed lightly. “True. Really it ends with a resolution to the main conflict, that resolution is what resulted in Equestria”

“So, still not all of the story per se’ ” Cobalt said.

“Taken that way, there never is an all of the story really” Dusty said.

“True enough,” Cobalt said.

“Sufficed to say,” Dusty said. “Shortly after the events the Pageant depicts, the leaders started looking for suitable places to populate around Equestria. When Princess Celestia and Princess Luna took power, they took a small town that they both favored and made their palace there. But when… actually, I’m not sure why, well, after Nightmare Moon attacked Celestia needed a new palace so they built Canterlot.”

“Which was some time after Cloudsdale was built,” Cobalt concluded for him, keeping up.

“Yes,” Dusty confirmed. "In fact, as I recall, Canterlot was renamed when it became the capitol."

Lord Ennui Heilmittle's Hall and Theater featured two main areas, the first was a large and tall horseshoe-shaped hall that nearly surrounded the main auditorium. The hall was large enough that it easily held vendors who took up spots here and there, gatherings in corners and booths for information or to sell tickets and give away brochures advertising upcoming events. Not that the brochures were any good, there were posters everywhere already advertising everything worth looking at. Everywhere Cobalt looked, there was something to see.

As they entered Cobalt got an even deeper impression of not belonging and realized why Rarity was so keen on making his vestments as best as she could. Everyone was wearing stuff MUCH more impressive then himself. Even as uneducated in the schools of fashion as he was he could still see how out-classed his simple vest was. Even some of the servants who bustled about everywhere seemed to be wearing better attire than his.

They were greeted by four armor-clad guard ponies. Seeing them reminded Cobalt of an unanswered question he’d had for some time.

“Why are the guard-ponies always a kind of white or gray?” Cobalt asked.

Nobody answered.

“Some kind of disease?” Cobalt continued, “something incurable but difficult to catch?”

“There are several of the nobility who have relatives amongst the guards.” Dusty said as they proceeded together, “to prevent them from being singled out or targeted the armor was enchanted so that they all look the same at first glance.”

“Why? What makes them so special?” Cobalt asked aloud.

At that, one of their escorts actually stopped, open mouthed and aghast, as though he’d been personally insulted.

“And that, students,” Cobalt said, turning his head to indicate the stopped guard “is how you get a noble pony to reveal himself in the crowd, even when part of his job is to remain incognito.”

Dusty held back a snicker, and the stopped guard sputtered and hurried to keep up with the rest.

The entourage stopped as a considerably larger procession crossed their path. This larger procession seemed to be centered upon a single pony of some considerable importance. He was so heavily surrounded that Cobalt could scarcely catch a glimpse of him. His closest escorts though were decked out in gold and an exquisite shade of purple of some very fine material, the sheer magnificence thereof made Cobalt blink, trying to see the material itself. Finally he realized that he simply couldn’t see the material, like it was enchanted to look that way regardless of what it was actually made of. No wonder Rarity was so worried about how to look in Canterlot if they were all cheating like this. With that kind of magic they could have made it out of cheap crap and it'd still look wondrous and mystic.

“Who is that?” Cobalt asked Dusty when the procession seemed far enough to be out of earshot.

“That would be Prince Blueblood” Dusty said casually.

“Prince?” Cobalt said, confused. “I was under the impression that there were only princesses in Equestria.”

“Well, the princesses are the ruling authority,” Dusty said, his certainty waning a little “but… I’m pretty sure that ‘prince’ is just an honorary title. I know it doesn’t grant any additional ruling authority or anything.”

“Honorary title?” Cobalt said, confused. “How could… I mean, you have one side that only gets to be a princess by means of being a whole different race, but for princes it’s just some throwaway ‘honorary title’? Seriously?”

“Well,” Dusty said, “I think it’s because there are no alicorn princes. I’m pretty sure if there were then ‘prince’ wouldn’t be an honorary title anymore. And it’s not just ‘some throwaway title’ either, I gather there are several steps necessary to earn it.”

They proceeded into a comparatively narrow hallway that arced around the main auditorium, the inside curve of which featured the occasional stairway up to the next floor. The second floor had booths that connected directly to the hallway, usually with only an ornate rope to designate ‘room’ from ‘hallway’.

The third floor was much like the second except that it was notably stuffier, the rooms were fewer and larger. The hallway connecting the rooms was also wider than on the floor below, despite this, there were so many servants and attendants bustling everywhere that it actually felt a little cramped at times and even their small entourage was occasionally forced to a stop-and-go pace . It wasn’t just ponies either, Though Cobalt had never properly seen a griffon he couldn’t help but think that some of the snatches and glimpses he managed to catch might have been of a griffon or two, it was so busy he couldn’t get a good enough look to properly tell.

*Probably dignitaries from other lands, this is Canterlot after all.* Cobalt thought to himself *I need to treat this place like it’s DC and keep my wits about me.*

Finally they reached another stairway, this one looked brand-new despite its décor being somewhat old-fashioned, as though it had rarely been used.

There were few rooms indeed up here and each one was lavishly furnished with customized styles. The halls and floor itself was a deep reddish-kind of velvet feeling-thing that tickled his hooves it was so soft. Some of the rooms had utilized a kind of temporary wall for privacy, others did not, preferring to keep the way open and clear so servants could come and go as they needed.

They arrived at their room. It featured the standard red velvet carpet and dark hardwood wall but the pillows, chairs and other décor featured clear white and golden yellow. Cobalt felt about as out-of-place as a rough-hewn pebble would be flying amongst the clouds. Everything seemed so immaculate and clean and he couldn’t feel but dirty and improper even being here. He saw Princess Celestia was seated amongst several pillows near the edge overlooking the auditorium proper, seeing her there, regal and grand, only increased his sense of inadequacy.

“Please, sit.” Celestia said, indicating with a wing a clear area of floor to her left.

Hesitantly, Cobalt approached the indicated area and sat down. He took in his surroundings again, he was close enough to the edge of the balcony and railing that he could easily see out into the auditorium. Now the full effect of the shape came into view.

At first, Cobalt was taken aback, there was no way that an auditorium of this size could fit in the size allotted by the curve of the hall. Then Cobalt saw it, it wasn’t that the auditorium was too big, it was that there were too many things to see so it felt larger than it really was.

The auditorium proper had booths lining the walls along the back and sides. The booths at the top were fewer and larger while the ones lower were smaller and more compact. The only well-lit area was the stage itself, indeed, the wooden floor below looked like chocolate it was so dark. Ponies everywhere were either seated, or getting to their seats. Oddly, the most rambunctious of the areas was the second-floor booths where young ponies were often seen signaling or talking to each other from booth to booth, the separation between rooms forcing them to almost yell to be heard. These were soon hushed by their elders and corralled to their seats.

*that’s more my style* Cobalt thought, *isolated enough they can’t bother me, but close enough I can be with the people I want to be with...*

Cobalt’s mood lowered as he came to realize just how few people there were on that list. He turned away from the second-floor and tried to pay attention to the rest of the theater, the booths were set up in an almost nest-like fashion, very cozy and probably comfortable. As it was, if Cobalt had set up this place himself he’d either go for more or less coziness, as it was he was in just that bad medium, too comfortable not to lay down, too uncomfortable to actually risk dozing off.

In all it reminded Cobalt of how old-school theaters in Shakespeare’s time, the cheap seats were right up next to the stage because the commoners were there to be entertained by the play. But the expensive seats were further back, the nobles and royalty were there to be entertained by the commoners below rather than by the play itself. For a moment Cobalt wondered if they were close enough to even hear the events of the play.

It was then that he saw how many other ponies and even non-ponies in the higher booths were either looking at him or were otherwise occasionally glancing his way. Cobalt retreated a bit from the railing.

*why am I here* Cobalt thought *I don’t belong here. If anything I belong down there with the rest of them.*

Cobalt’s attention was drawn to the princess but she was busy speaking with Dusty, who soon retreated and left the room.

“Is he not…?” Cobalt began.

“He will be viewing this with several others in their own room,” Celestia said simply.

“I should be with them,” Cobalt said plainly.

“This is one of the most important things that I have asked you to do.” Celestia said, “today, you learn more about our history than any of your previous researches or questions have ever shown you before.”

Cobalt had to think about this a bit, then he remembered how old she was.

“Were you there?” Cobalt asked.

“No,” Celestia said “this was well before my time… but… I know there were some… parts… that either got left out or… were just ignored… even so it is… accurate enough.”

Celestia seemed to have trailed off and Cobalt knew that he’d touched something deep. Turning back to the auditorium Cobalt hoped the play would start soon, if only to serve as a distraction from Celestial’s troubles; Cobalt could only imagine how many painful memories she’d had time to gather.

Celestia regarded Cobalt’s curiosity with the auditorium, his anticipatory anxiousness as he waited for the pageant to begin; remembering how many she had seen come and go with that same youthful exuberance.

Several minutes later and the lights started dimming, this ushered in a new wave of silence and “shhh”-ing that further silenced the young and the boisterous…

A single pony trotted up onto the stage, illuminated by a spotlight. She struck a striking figure, her bright, almost jester-like apparel contrasting with the dark and muted plum-maroon of the stage curtain behind her.

“Throughout the ages, there have always been struggles; struggles for survival, for goods, for lands, for rights and privileges. But some struggles are born of nothing more than strife and misunderstanding; some struggles that came to be for no reason other than because nopony could agree. Some struggles are born not of need, but of fear, and hatred.”

Cobalt noticed that much of the audience gave an audible gasp.

*These ponies are really foreign to evil, aren’t they,* Cobalt thought.

“Our story begins in the Trottinglands…”

Cobalt noticed an audible groan and several murmurings, even louder than the previous gasp, rippling through the audience. There were even a few not-so-quiet protests amongst the various balconies. They were loud enough that the narrator even paused for a brief moment.

“…Which was originally populated by unicorns along the ridge near the Whither-Spoon mountain range. Originally, the three tribes were their own separate peoples, all of which had troubles. The Pegasi, forgoing claiming or owning any land or arable territory, took to the clouds, using their skills to either forage or raid food from other nations and provinces. This led to their numbers being led by military leaders and gave them a reputation as violent thieves and bandits.”

More groans and grumbles from the crowd, lower this time though.

“The Unicorns, in an effort to maintain solidarity, defended themselves with their magic, studying and practicing. Because magical study in those days was new and dangerous there were many mistakes and keeping up with the collateral became expensive. To make up for this, they employed a system where experimenting mages would be accompanied and funded by a single powerful ruler, that could pay for the damages, and profit from the benefits directly.

The Earth Ponies however were more divided and often wandered the world in herds and familial camps. Eventually, most of them were captured and put to work by other beings, using their strength and stamina for hard labor.

Eventually, Unicorns and the Pegasi discovered each other and agreed to a mutual co-existence. The Unicorns would pay the Pegasi to guard their borders. This allowed the Unicorns to focus their efforts on study and trade, not needing to worry about national defense. In return, the pegasi would not be hunted by those they lived near, having never raided from the unicorns and thus, having no quarrel with them. This union, however, had a fault. The Pegasi needed food which they could only get from raiding. To help the union meet this demand, the two tribes decided that they could solicit the aid of the Earth Ponies, several of which were natural farmers and cultivators of the land.

For two generations the triple union has managed, sometimes uneasily, sometimes beautifully. Which is where our story begins…”

At the mention of “for two generations” another ripple of grumbles ran through the crowd but Cobalt soon turned his attention to the curtains which had begun parting as the narrator crossed to the side just in front of the stage, visible if she had anything to say, but not in the way of the actors.

The scene opened up with a single old looking but regally dressed Earth Pony sat in the center, a blanket over his shoulders. Just left (house-left) of the first was a second, younger and less decorated Earth Pony.

“listening Ear” Said the blanketed pony, obviously trying not to cough while doing so.

“My Lord Silica?” Said the other.

“Hear me this day,” said Lord Silica, coughing afterward. “We have been here for many years now. The alliance has purchased, rescued or downright stolen many Earth Pony slaves and brought them here. For me, it was several years ago, but my time in the mines of the great shoe-nail caves have caused me to suffer from this infernal quartz-lung.”

Lord Silica coughed again. Cobalt, his suspension of disbelief momentarily collapsing, wondered if someone actually suffering from a lung disease of any kind could actually get out a chunk of words that large. Then he realized that this was still part of the introduction and just let it alone.

“I do not for one minute,” Lord Silica said hoarsely, “believe that our… benefactors… are anything better than slave-masters themselves. They brought us here to work and that’s it, we work for them, we get our so-called freedom. But what is that freedom if we need to work for them to have it?”

“At least they are kind masters” Listening Ear said, “one could hardly call them masters at all, allowing us to have our own independent government and all.”

“That…” Lord Silica coughed again “does not mean that we can trust any of them!”

At this, four more entered the stage from the left, one Pegasus leading and three Earth Ponies behind.

“General Graywind.” Listening Ear greeted.

“Three more clans freed from the Minotaurs, that should be all of them for now.” General Graywind responded, as he did so the three passed behind him and the other two and moved to exit the right of the stage (house right). “there is room for them in the Eastern fields.”

General Graywind remained quiet, as if awaiting Lord Silica to reply. Lord Silica instead merely coughed and nodded.

“On a personal note” General Graywind resumed. “I do hope that is the last we have to free for a while. Every influx of slaves... or rather, former slaves, increases the lands we must guard; expanding our borders requires more border-guards, which we can scarce afford or somehow cut the numbers we use for these rescue-missions.

Lord Silica merely looked at him and coughed a few times. After a few moments, he nodded.

The stage lights dimmed some and the ponies on the stage froze in place. The entire stage slid slowly, shifting the ponies in the middle to the side and eventually offstage entirely, as it did so, a structure of some kind appeared from the opposite side and moved until it took up half of the stage. When the lights came back on Cobalt could see that, based on the structure, and the background, the right hand was meant to be the inside of a castle or some similar structure. Then Cobalt saw what definitely looked like a king, a Unicorn with a crown sitting on a thrown, and another dressed like a clown, bells and all, a few steps below the dais the throne stood upon.

“Starswirl the Bearded, you have come at last,” Said the crowned pony.

“As quickly as I could King Gold” said the bell-bearing pony.

“This latest influx of Earth Ponies worries me” said King Gold, “every new influx of slaves changes and strains the economy. It’s not just grazing land they need, it’s jobs.”

“What jobs could Earth Ponies fill?” asked the bell pony.

“A lot!” King Gold exclaimed, “just about every job out there, anything that doesn’t specifically require magic, they can do! Anything that doesn’t require being in the air, they can fill it! Anything that isn’t restricted strictly for royalty, they can perform it!”

“Surely they cannot perform all jobs better than us,” asked the bell-laden pony.
“You would be surprised then,” answered King Gold, “they’re just as skilled as they claim to be. It’s just like they said, this mark is like a compass of one’s own skills and best abilities!”

“Was it a bad thing that they shared it with us then?” asked the belled pony.

There was a short moment of silence as King Gold seemed to contemplate this.

“No,” King Gold answered. “The Cutie Mark was and is one of the deepest and most important aspects of life to them. It is a symbol of how they managed to survive the brutality of their times as slaves. The mines and tombs were so distressing that many of them lost all hope and identity. It got so bad at times that some would simply stare at a wall and stand there until they died on their hooves. When their taskmasters learned of the self-identity power the Cutie-Mark holds they gladly let them share its power amongst ALL of the slaves, if only to help them live longer. That they have shared it with us is a great and powerful symbol.”

“But, is it only a symbol?” asked the bell-pony.

“No,” King Gold said, “no, of this I am sure. But if you have further questions about it, you will get your chance to ask them, at the tribunal.”

“The tribunal…” mused the bell-saddled-pony “isn’t that this week?”

“In three days’ time,” said King Gold. “Then, all complaints and worries can be expressed in full. I have all confidence that this tribunal will help to strengthen the alliances and solidify the union.”

The stage went dark and a spotlight shined down on the narrator.

“And so it was, in three days’ time, the three tribes each held a summit to express, consider, and resolve their problems. King Gold, king and leader of the Unicorns; General Graywind, commander of the Pegasi; and Lord Silica, leader of the Earth Ponies.”

The stage had shifted yet again, this time the “palace” or “castle” took up the entire stage, what had been the “throne” of the king had lost its backrest and become the table around which the three rulers were now seated. In attendance but holding back were three other ponies, Cobalt recognized the bell laden pony, as well as Listening Ear and a Pegasus he did not recognize.

“And that is the state of the affairs of the union it seems” King gold said.

“I still feel uneasy about this ‘gem mine’ of yours,” said Lord Silica. “Too many of my ponies have slaved” *cough* “away in darkened tunnels filled with nothing but riches and despair.”

“You have my word,” said King Gold “naught but those willing and talented shall enter those mines. I shall force NOpony into servitude. Not the least of which it would cause this very alliance to crumble and itself come to naught. And what then are we profit?”

“Indeed,” said Lord Silica.

“I too have… not a grievance so much as… a concern,” General Graywind said. “Several of my Pegasi are… anxious, they want to maintain the old ways and keep up the old ‘wild and ferocious pegasi’ traditions. The problem is, they are right, we are stretched thin. We are given a double duty we can scarcely keep up with. In the first place we must defend the borders, easily enough done with our… traditions… but in the second place, we must also maintain the weather for what is becoming an increasingly agrarian union. Not that I wish to blame anypony but… both jobs are becoming increasingly demanding with the more ponies we get, swelling the nation. The job is nigh impossible to maintain and if it gets any harder… we shall simply have to employ some other tribe or race into the union to keep up with the demands.”

“I appreciate your unwillingness to ‘blame anypony’ for this difficulty of yours,” Lord Silica said carefully.

“This problem is not your fault,” General Graywind said, turning to him directly. “Would that we had greater numbers ourselves, this wouldn’t even be a concern. If any… thing… is to be blamed it is those slavers and taskmasters forcibly breeding and-“

“-That… will do,” King Gold interrupted. “I have assurances that one of the next major focuses of study will be both wind and weather-manipulation as well as defensive magics. Both of which should aid you on both fronts. I dare not assume that we shall make any breakthroughs enough to entirely replace the need for your pegasi in any one vein though, that would be incredible. However I do believe that, within the next five years or so, you should get the assistance you desire.”

“That… well, the only concern left is whether there is likely to be any… large influx… before then.” General Graywind said, again turning from King Gold to Lord Silica.

“Doubtful,” said Lord Silica. “The few remaining Earth Pony slaves are small in number and scattered amongst several nations and although they are… theoretically… within reaching distance… I hate to say it myself, for it is cold and cruel, but the cost of each… raid… they are just too few, and too scattered to risk anything right now. I believe that the best means would be to simply remain in peace and build up the economy that we might simply buy them from their masters rather than do so by raiding.”

“Slowing their influx and buying us time,” General Graywind concluded. “Well, nopony said that these tribunals resulted in perfect resolutions, but at least now we have a plan.”

“Indeed,” said King Gold.

The stage went dark again, this time Cobalt picked up a feint but audible grinding and an intermittent squeak coming from the stage, a gear needed oil or a belt needed tightening, maybe both. When the lights came back on, the stage was set to a considerably different scene. A small green hill with a tree and a few stones drawn on the background… only, the colors were faded slightly and the tree was barren and, Cobalt now saw, they weren’t ordinary stones, they were tombstones. A slight mist clung to the ground on the stage, what had once been a scene of hope, had now changed to a very different tone.

A procession of no less than four unidentified ponies slowly marched from the left towards a particularly misty and dark part of the stage on the right, following behind them were four more. Whereas the first four were all arrayed in identical black and gray, the second four maintained individual color schemes, despite also being arrayed in muted dark ensembles, they were all Earth Ponies.

“Pointy Head, Big Head,” said the last pony to arrive on stage, the two immediately in front of him turned and paused in the procession, the one just beyond blithely ignoring the call.

“Yes Square Head?” said the one closest, “what is it?”

“It’s just… father always said we need to trust in the alliance,” Square Head said. “And I’m not sure that I can.”

“You don’t worry about that,” said one of the two that Square Head had addressed, of them his hat was the biggest, “I’ll be taking charge when they come to call on a new Minister.”

“Whatever you say Big Head,” said the one between Square Head and Big Head. “But last I checked you were even behind Flat Head in terms of popularity.”

“You stuff it Pointy Head!” Big Head exclaimed.

“Can you three keep it down?” Flat Head asked, turning to face the other three, “we’re having a funeral here!”

The other three remained silent while the first four ponies proceeded with the funeral, eventually lowering their burden into what Cobalt could have sworn was a fairly shallow hole. Somehow the casket fit and disappeared into the hole despite the latter only appearing to be inches deep and the casket being well over a foot in height.

“There is one thing that we do prove, just by being here though,” Pointy Head said.

“What’s that?” Big Head asked.

“Just as we are, so too are the Unicorns only one generation away from reneging on their deal and treating us all as slaves and servants,” Pointy Head said.

“I just hope,” Square Head said , “that it doesn’t mean a return of the ‘quartz-lung’ plague.”

The three were silent as they all turned to the hole the casket was in. Two of the casket bearers had left to the right and were returning, rolling a large stone before them. Upon the stone was etched the words…

“Here lies…
LORD SILICA
The last victim of the mines”

“Goodbye father” said Flat Head mournfully, though surprisingly loud for a mournful statement, as he turned and joined his brothers.

This time the lights didn’t dim at all as the stage moved slightly, shifting the four casket bearers out of the stage to the right and shifting the four brothers to the right edge of the stage. As they did so, General Graywind and two other pegasi shifted onto stage from the left, all sitting on clouds, overlooking the mourners.

“So much for the promises of Unicorns,” said one of the ponies escorting the General. “They promised us an ‘ease of life’ within five years, promising us to supplement our efforts with their magic within five years.”

“That was seven years ago,” General Graywind said gravely.

The Pegasi were silent, and the stage moved again, this time the brothers were shifted off stage and the pegasi were stuck on the right of the stage. Entering from the left as the stage moved were no less than 4 Unicorns, all fabulously adorned, though also in mourning garb. One, the only one wearing a crown, stepped forward towards a burial chamber.

“For all the work we have put into this alliance,” Said the crowned pony, “we have not had a moment’s rest even to bury my father until now, when they bury Lord Silica.”

“Princess Platinum,” said one of the attendees, approaching her. “We delay too long, there are matters of the state that need urgent attention.”

“URGENT ATTENTION?!” Princess Platinum almost screamed, rounding on the pony that had spoken. “My father is DEAD! My court magician has disappeared with some wild magic of his own making, years, decades, maybe CENTURIES of work are now gone! And you trifle me with matters of the state?! Come to me tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, next generation when it is I laying in that tomb, THEN you may come before me with matters of the state. But for today, either let it wait or let it burn, whichever the state and it’s matters may prefer.”

The pony that had approached recoiled. Another stepped forward and turned on the others, this one was wearing, amongst the muted and dark, a deep green cloak.

“Away with you, Queen Platinum wishes to be alone right now,” said the green-clad pony.

The scene persisted until the other ponies had left.

“Thank you Clover,” said Princess Platinum solemnly.

The stage went dark again,

When the lights came back on, Cobalt could see the three pegasi, hovering some distance above the stage floor, occasionally a chunk of mist would drift by from the left to the right. Cobalt understood, this was meant to simulate them flying forward, while remaining within view of the audience. One of the pegasi he recognized as General Graywind. The other two seemed to have their own distinct motifs, one was had light armor and it seemed extra padded for some reason; the other was only clothed with boots a cape and a helmet.

“I’m sure they’re around here somewhere,” said General Graywind.

“I’m not sure sir,” said the padded Pegasus.

“I’ve never heard of any Earth Ponies living this far out here,” said the caped Pegasus.

“They’re out there, and it’s our job to protect them,” said General Graywind.

“But why sir?” asked the caped Pegasus.

General Graywind flew ahead of them and turned around, blocking their path.

“look at us, what are we?” General Graywind asked.

“Umm, pegasi?” said the padded Pegasus.

“We’re three of a kind,” said General Graywind. “A Lancer, a Swoop and a Thunderer. We all have different specialties and work in different ways, but no one of us alone could ever win a battle.”

The other two stopped to think about that.

“A Lancer can attack enemies directly but with heavy armor and weapons can only hope to hold out for so long before he tires,” General Graywind said. “A Swoop can attack and take out enemies one at a time without detection but cannot deal with too many at once. A Thunderer can specialize in using the weather to take out large groups, or generate it locally to take out smaller ones. The Lancers are like the Earth Ponies, strong and good in a fight. The Thunderers are like the mages of the Pegasi, they’re like the Unicorns in a way. The Swoops are like us, the Pegasi of the alliance.”

They all paused for a moment, though Cobalt noticed that the ‘clouds’ were still moving across the stage, the words “oops, staging error” playing through his mind.

“So yeah, the Unicorns couldn’t help us like they said,” General Graywind said. “But you know what? I don’t care, because that’s not their job. Their job is to keep the economy from collapsing and occasionally helping us with their magic if they can. I mean, they don’t even have a lord or any super powerful leader and they STILL managed to stabilize the sun and moon in this land! We don’t NEED them to help with either the weather or the defense.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“I was invited to a wedding,” said General Graywind. “It was between a Pegasus and an Earth Pony. It was unprecedented, unheard of, it was… eye opening. I realized that there was only one reason I’d never seen it happen before, distrust. I finally came to realize that the distrust we have is what’s been holding us back all this time. We’ve always struggled, always faced challenges, that hasn’t changed since joining the union. But after joining we’ve been at each other’s throats, blaming each other and believing that one tribe or another is not pulling their own weight. But why? Again, we’ve ALWAYS faced challenges, so why should this be any different? Distrust.”

“So, if we get rid of our distrust…?” said the padded Pegasus.

“And… everything’s better?” said the caped Pegasus.

“No, not better,” General Graywind said, “but, the thought helps to put our problems into perspective a little.”

They were silent for a few moments again.

“I don’t know if… I can trust them.” Said the caped Pegasus.

“Give it time Commander,” General Graywind said. “Give it time and they will earn your trust, heh, trust me.”

And with that the general turned around and began flying again, the other two quickly turning to keep up.

The scene held for a few more seconds, a surprisingly long number of seconds, the lights dimmed slowly. As the lights approached the point where it was no longer possible to discern the actions going on stage a cry rang out, obscured amongst the sounds of clanking and clanging metal…

“General? GENERAL!” screamed the voice Cobalt recognized as the caped Pegasus the General had referred to as ‘Commander’.

The stage was dark for several more seconds, then the narrator approached the center in front of the stage, the spotlight illuminating her.

“And so it was,” said the narrator. “That the three great leaders, Lord Silicon, King Gold, and General Graywind, died within the same fortnight, “their immediate heirs, Princess Platinum, Square Head, and Commander Hurricane taking their positions as the new leaders. But even in this, simple transition, trouble began to brew.”

The curtains parted, the narrator hurrying away to the side. As the stage came into view Cobalt recognized the stage was set to the interior of the unicorn’s castle. Inside the castle were two ponies, Princess Platinum and the pony that Cobalt soon realized was the one that the princess had referred to as “clover”.

“And I’ll never understand why he would assume the name ‘puddinghead’,”said Princess Platinum.

“It’s the gloom,” said ‘Clover’, “the union has existed for a while but there is no real direction and they have no guarantees that we unicorns aren’t going to enslave them. Every new batch of freed slaves they brought in also brought a resurgence of fear and ponies in need of hope. Despair in the past has been all but lethal, that’s why they created these cutie-marks, to fight against the gloom and prevent more of them from dying. Square Head merely believes that, by changing his name to something more… humorous, he’ll be able to help dispel atmosphere of doubt and worry.”

“I suppose,” said Princess Platinum, turning aside as though thinking of something else.

“It is how he won the Earth-Pony election after all, “ ‘Clover’ said.

“I’m honestly more concerned with how the Pegasi are getting along.” Princess Platinum said, turning towards Clover again.

“Badly, I’m afraid,” Clover said. “There is concern over Commander Hurricane’s ability to lead them.”

“Isn’t she a ‘general’ now?” Princess Platinum asked.

“In order for a commander to become a general,” Clover responded, “all of the pegasi clan leaders have to agree, and, well, some of them are more traditional, they don’t want a mare as a general.”

“So what, they’re just going to stand around leaderless?” Princess Platinum said, astonished.

“Well, their leaders have always gained their power from the support of the clans,” Clover said, “and it’s not like they haven’t had to go through transitionary times before.”

“How did they deal with it before?” Princess Platinum asked.

“The houses and clans would eventually get together and choose their own leader.” Clover said, “it’s a pity though, none of the other commanders, or even clan leaders, are stepping up to campaign as the new general, even if only temporarily to help smooth things over.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“THAT’S IT!” Princess Platinum blurted out, “Clover you really are clever aren’t you?! It’s the perfect idea?”

“What is your highness?” Clover asked anxiously.

“I’ll lead them!” Princess Platinum declared, “I’ll lead them until all of this ‘general’ business is taken care of.”

“WHAT?!” Clover exclaimed in disbelief.

The lights faded and the scene changed again, though to Cobalt’s surprise, the setting was the same location. Princess Platinum entering the chambers with Clover close behind.

“Well,” Princess Platinum said, exasperated “I’ve never… you’d think I was asking for a live sacrifice or something.”

“All of the commanders and high commanders just… stepping down like that,” Clover mused, “it was a fairly extreme gesture.”

“And so now they have their ‘leader’, for what good it does them,” Princess Platinum said, all but complaining.

They were silent again for a bit.

“Perhaps this will lead to more solidarity,” Clover said.

“Oh,” said Princess Platinum challengingly, “how so?”

“Oh, just that, it was such a strong gesture, and a difficult one,” Clover said “that I can’t help but feel they’ll likely be more unified for it. Commander Hurricane is… not the most antagonistic to the alliance after all. Perhaps their unity, combined with her leadership will… be for the best… eventually.”

“I just can’t understand why they seemed so… so furious,” Princess Platinum said.

The stage went dark and the Narrator stepped up again.

“But while the leadership issues had been settled,” said the narrator. “Trouble loomed over the next horizon. The leaders of five other nations were not happy with the alliance, and they gathered to discuss their troubles. By daybreak, four of them had already gathered. Gerissen, king of the griffons. Rage-Fire, leader of the dragons, Hot-Iron, lord of the minotaurs, and Burg, the king of the cave-trolls.”

The scene changed again, this time to what appeared to be an open area with a single table. Based on the way the rocks at the base of the table seemed to cut off on the right of the stage as well as the shadows of birds or other flying things that popped up from the floor of the stage and back down again occasionally, it appeared that this was supposed to be a mountain top or side of some kind. The final sell was the mist or clouds that obscured the first half-foot or so of area immediately above the stage floor.

Around the table were situated four strange creatures, even stranger still was that Cobalt could tell that some of them were ponies in considerably elaborate costumes. So elaborate that they seemed almost like large puppets. Cobalt was vaguely reminded of Jabba-The -Hutt and how it took several people to work everything, the eyes, the movements, the hands and arms, even the tail had needed someone to operate it.

There was one, on the right of the table and next to the drop-off, it was larger than a pony, but it moved so naturally that Cobalt couldn’t help but think it was real. It looked to Cobalt as though it had two-half-bodies rather than just a whole one. The front half of it looked like a bird, eagle or falcon of some kind, while the rear half seemed… catlike. “Griffon” came the thought to Cobalt’s mind, and he couldn’t help marveling that he was seeing one for real. What was more, given the lifelike nature of it, he couldn’t help but wonder if they hadn’t simply hired an actual griffon as an actor for the part.

The one next to him seemed entirely fake and phony, Jabba The Hutt had been more believable. It was like someone had sprayed rock-colored spray-paint on a sack of potatoes and gave it matching arms and had simply called it a day. Cobalt assumed this was the “cave troll”.

There was a space in the middle of the table that appeared at first to be empty, just the rusty-red-brown rocks behind it, then a giant dragon-head descended and Cobalt realized that the ‘rocks’ were meant to be the body of the Rage-Fire, the dragon leader… who seemed awful placid despite his namesake.

Finally, on the left was a creature that seemed just as natural as the griffon did, it was tall and had a bull’s head, horns and all; though the lower-half seemed different than the top half, Cobalt couldn’t immediately identify just how it was different.

“Must be the minotaur,” Cobalt said to himself.

For a few moments the four of them were relatively still, the griffon and the troll exchanging what seemed to be a slow but private conversation. Finally the minotaur turned away from the table and towards an open break in the rocks as something clambered into the break. From the appearance of the approach, it seemed that the audience was meant to believe that it was climbing up through the breach and onto the stage.

“Ah, Queen Lamia!” Welcomed the Minotaur. Then he turned toward the griffon, “I didn’t know the queen of the Ophiotauruses had been invited.”

“I wasn’t,” said the queen, “but I heard that the summit was happening and just couldn’t help but join the party.” The queen then made a deliberate move to look down and away from the table, “no matter how high I had to climb to get to it.”

The ‘queen’ was a strange mix that made the Jabba-looking troll actually look believable. She had a front body like the minotaur, cow-like, but the lower body was almost entirely a very large (and long, it was still trailing in the break in the rocks) serpentine tail.

“My apologies,” said Gerissen the griffon. “I wanted a location that was… naturally secluded, most especially away from the ears of any potentially prying pony slaves.”

There was a general growl or groan from the members around the table that Cobalt didn’t immediately recognize.

“They keep escaping,” Burg blurted out, raising a lumpen arm, “can’t get them back!”

“Every time the alliance attacks to free a few we lose a keeper or two,” said Hot-Iron, “it’s getting expensive just to BE a keeper!”

“They’re in such an uproar they haven’t bred sufficient foals in nearly three years!” Lamia complained.

Cobalt noticed the crowd, the audience, had a barely audible something, whether a hiss or a groan or whatever it was exactly he couldn’t quite tell.

There came a low growl and some smoke from the head of the dragon, poking into the stage from above the ceiling.

“YES!” said Gerissen loudly, “and I have a plan, a very evil plan.”

The table of strange creatures was silent.

“Just how evil is it?” asked Lamia.

“The biggest problem,” Gerissen said, “is that whenever the alliance attacks, they do so in a way that makes it difficult to blame them, difficult to track them directly. If we go following the slave’s trail they-“

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” Burg blurted out, both arms pounding the table this time.

“-following their trail does lead to the lands of their alliance,” Gerissen said, “and then reigning rulers all disavow the actions of any pony caught trying to free the slaves. What makes it hard for us that so few slave-owners today have kept records that are accurate and thorough enough to prove which of their ponies are our property, so they just up and claim that NONE of them are escaped slaves!”

Again, the table growled.

“But, what do you intend to do about it?” Queen Lamia cooed.

“Simple,” Gerissen said. “we lay a trap for them.”

“And pound em inta paste!” Burg shouted in excitement.

“Er, no.” Gerissen said, “we consolidate. We, the griffon empire will buy all of your pony slaves, meanwhile everyone recovers or… creates… records of the slaves so we can prove them as property; proof which will be presented to the alliance before we’ve moved them. When we move them, we move them right to the border, basically taunt the alliance into taking them, and we sit by and simply watch with as many witnesses as possible.’

‘With the alliance being shown in full error, we can force them to either return the slaves or to actually up and pay for them, then we set a price at five, no, TEN times what each slave is worth!”

“They won’t pay.” Said Hot Iron, “I’ve seen how they deal.”

“They will pay.” Gerissen said, “if we show that there was an ongoing debt for the slaves, then it’ll mean that with one action they have offended 5 nations at once! If it were just one nation they could threaten war against it, their numbers are great enough that they could do some damage that way and nobody would go for it; but all five together? We can threaten them with a war so great that they will be FORCED to pay for them. Sure, it means we lose our pony slaves in the end, but we make enough for it to buy more slaves from somewhere else.”

“Not pony slaves though,” Hot Iron mused. “Barely any ponies left outside of the alliance to make into slaves.”

They were all silent for a moment.

“TWENTY TIMES” came a booming voice that Cobalt could only assume was Rage-Fire.

“They won’t-“ Gerissen said before being interrupted.

“TWENTY TIMES,” said the huge booming voice again. “TWENTY TIMES, OR I WILL NOT JOIN.”

“I get my ponies back?” Burg asked, his lump of a head cocking slightly.

There was an awkward silence, during which more than one pony in the audience stifled a laugh or snicker.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll talk with him.” Hot-Iron said, breaking the silence.

“But… I dunno, twenty times…” Gerissen said.

“If we allow them to pay over time,” Lamia suggested. “It would give them a better opportunity to pay, and it would allow us to get them to admit and confirm their debt in writing.”

“THAT WORKS,” said the booming voice.

There was silence at the table for a moment.

“Very well,” Gerissen said “all in favor?”

Rage-Fire nodded his giant head, Hot-Iron and Lamia raised an arm, Gerissen raised a clawed fore-limb; Burg, after a few moments of what appeared to be hard thinking let out an excited growl.

“So be it,” Gerissen said. “I shall contact the griffon governors and begin setting up the monetary arrangements.”

The stage dimmed and the curtains closed. Surprisingly though, the auditorium started getting illuminated.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts,” said a resonating but thus far unfamiliar voice, louder than most of the actors had been. “We shall have a brief intermission which shall last for twenty-five minutes.”

It took Cobalt a moment to register what had been said, he was still trying to take in the plot of the play. While Cobalt was often curious and contemplative enough to understand most modern movies without needing a second viewing, yet many older plays and the like took so long that it was actually harder for him to keep up with them unless watched and possibly read a few times. Given that he was basically an interdimensional ambassador he wanted to try and keep up with the play, though even now he felt his memory blurring.

“So,” Celestia said, nearly startling Cobalt, who had all but forgotten that she was there. “Understand the pageant so far?”

“Um, I think so,” Cobalt said hesitantly.

“Explain it to me,” Celestia said, “what happened at the beginning?”

“Um, there…” Cobalt said, starting uncertainly.

“What happened at the end, and how did the play get there?” Celestia asked, “let’s try that.”

“The alliance has problems,” Cobalt said, “none of them trust each other. They keep making raids to get Earth Pony slaves and free them and bring them to the alliance. They… I think the nations are not really unified or they’d have made larger enemies sooner.”

“Good, and the leadership?” Celestia said.

“It… the original leadership died,” Cobalt said. “So their successors had to inherit a system with problems.”

“And the functions?” Celestia continued, “what purposes did each tribe serve?”

“They were different back then,” Cobalt said. “Each tribe was coping with what it… used to be and they’re trying to transition slowly but the demands want them to transition more quickly than that. And Princess Platinum’s being an idiot.”

Celestia had to scrunch up her face to hold back a snicker.

“There was fault on all sides,” Celestia said finally, “if you look closely enough.”

Cobalt looked down, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention enough to see it all.

“It’s alright,” Celestia said, “I’ve only ever had one student work arduously enough to memorize everything her first time and… well, let’s just say she’s got her own problems.”

“Cobalt,” Dusty Legend said, approaching “we’re making a run for the horse-d’oeuvres, and we’re wondering what you would want.”

Cobalt’s mind blanked, he’d never understood what that particular French-word had meant no matter how many times he’d heard it and it put him to mind of some kind of extremely fancy, not to mention expensive, tiny food-stuffs. As such, Cobalt stood there silently for an awkwardly long time.

“Can I... go see what they have available?” Cobalt asked.

“You don’t need my permission,” Celestia answered.

Down in the hall again, Cobalt joined with the procession that was in line for one of several food tables. From the looks of it, horse-d’oeuvres, was nothing more than “appetizers” and several of which he thought he recognized. Even so, he was further back in line and would be several minutes before he could actually reach them properly.

For a while, everything was the boring and predictable Queuing in a steadily moving line.

“And I also want some of those spicy cheese bread balls” said an unfamiliar yet commanding voice.

Cobalt looked and saw a white unicorn stallion looking straight at him a golden tint to his yellow mane and a disapproving glare on his face.

“Excuse me?” Cobalt said, uncertain what else to say.

“Honestly, where does father get the help these days?” Asked the pale pony, rolling his eyes in deliberate exasperation “I said I want--”

“What do you mean help?” Cobalt interrupted.

“You are one of the servants hired on by the Gold-Hoof Foundation are you not?” The pale pony said more than he asked.

“Er, no?” Cobalt answered, trying to think if he’d ever heard of ‘Gold-Hoof Foundation’ or not.

“And you were assigned to the services of my attendance here, were you not?” The pale pony continued, apparently not having heard him.

“I don’t see how I could be,” Cobalt continued, smiling as he did so, his confusion was beginning to give in to his sense of humor.

“And in lieu of this assignment you were put under the direct authority, beck, and call to one Prince Blueblood, were you not,” said the pale pony.

“Not to my knowledge,” Cobalt said, “I’m barely at Princess Celestia’s beck and call.”

“You…” Stuttered the pale pony.

“I mean I guess I’d come if she called,” Cobalt said, attempting to strut and stay in line at the same time. “But, honestly who would be caught dead at somepony else’s beck and call. I sure wouldn’t. And for that matter, I’m certainly not at yours!”

The pale pony stuttered and sputtered some more before finally turning away with a “humph!” and what Cobalt could only assume was a threat to have him fired.

Cobalt continued waiting in line, which progressed at a fair pace.

“You… you really don’t work for my father?” said the voice behind Cobalt, who turned to see the pale pony had returned.

“I… it’s complicated, but for right now I don’t really work for anyone,” Cobalt said.

“It’s just that, with your vest,” said the pale pony, “I thought you were just a servant, and I didn’t see anypony I recognized so… you really don’t work for anypony? As in, you aren’t here on somepony’s bequest?”

“I’m here for the appetizers,” Cobalt said flatly. “And, unless you count ‘being here at the bequest of my own stomach’... I’m here of my own volition.”

“But, you’re vestments,” the pale pony persisted. “They’re so plain!”

Cobalt considered this for a moment.

“It doesn’t cheat, if that’s what you mean.” Cobalt countered with, “honestly, using magic to make something appear better than it really is, that’s cheating if you ask me.”

The pale pony was taken aback for a moment, such direct confrontation, and so unrefined wasn’t something he was used to.

Cobalt decided to use the hesitation to bring the conversation to even terms.

“What is your name?” Cobalt asked. He knew it was a bit of a risk, this pony obviously thought highly of himself, to ask a celebrity who they were was to risk ostracization, but Cobalt felt that he’d managed to make himself appear enigmatic enough that such ignorance might be overlooked.

“You… you don’t know who I am?” the pale pony asked.

“No,” Cobalt said simply.

“I…” the pale pony stammered.

A change seemed to occur, the pale pony seemed to relax somewhat, like wind-up toy soldier that was usually kept at full tension, but had been suddenly given permission to unwind himself a little.

“My name is North Bound, but I rarely use it,” said the pale pony. “These days, I go by my title and the family name.”

“Oh?” Cobalt said, partially curious. “And, do I know that name? I’m sorry but either way I just don’t recognize you.”

North Bound actually laughed.

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” North Bound said. “My family, my father mostly, likes to limit my exposure to others of… lesser ilk.”

“Ah, ilk that, I guess, is more his choosing than anypony’s?” Cobalt said.

“More or less,” North Bound said. “A pity too, in some ways. I mean, I spent all that time and effort to get where I am and now, it’s not where I want to be.”

“Just for the record,” Cobalt said “where are you?”

“I commonly… wow, I never thought I’d ever hear myself calling myself common… eesh,” North Bound said. “Anyway, I… er, often go by the moniker of ‘Prince Blueblood’. At least, since my coronation to princedom that is.”

Cobalt tried thinking if he’d heard the name before, it seemed he’d had but he couldn’t place where.

“Can’t say… I mean I was aware that… hang on, oh that’s where.” Cobalt said finally “Earlier today I saw your procession… which seems somewhat absent at the moment… and I asked ‘who is that?’ and we got into a discussion about what princes were. Sorry but we didn’t really discuss you specifically very much.”

“Pfft, that would be a first,” North Bound said.

“But, you were saying it’s not where you wanted to be?” Cobalt pressed on, hoping he wasn’t going to end up sounding like a groupie or something.

“Well like the mares for one thing!” North Bound said, “honestly, it’s like they want me to form a herd or something! Not a day goes by when some no-pony comes up to me and wants me to make them the next ‘Princess Blueblood’ or something. And the worst part is, I play along! I’ve been at it so long that I turned it into a game! I pretend to be some jerk and ignore their obvious advances just to see how far I can string them along. I haven’t done it much since… well, since that incident at the Gala some time ago, stained my best… well, my father’s best vestments I can tell you!”

“Sounds awful,” Cobalt said, barely keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. To Cobalt, any excuse to get out of wearing something uncomfortable was a good one.

“Oh don’t get me wrong,” North Bound said “I hated the thing! Did you know, no less than two, TWO of my family have actually worn those to their own funeral?! They weren’t buried in it of course, but they wore them at the viewing! About time somepony burned those old clothes if you ask me.”

Cobalt snickered, “sounds more like me than somepony of high standing.”

“Eh?” North Bound said, cocking his head at Cobalt.

“I hate dressing up like this.” Cobalt said, “honestly if it weren’t for getting personally invited to a… can’t call it a ‘party’ really… shindig?”

“Festivity,” North Bound said, adopting a slightly holier than thou kind of accent.

“Exactly,” Cobalt said, “if it weren’t for that, I doubt you’d catch me dead in this getup”

North Bound looked at him a little, then started snickering, Cobalt just looked at him curiously, cocking his head hoping to coax him to explain his little joke.

“It’s… nothing,” North Bound said, “just… well, anything that cost less than a thousand bits and my father’d probably say that HE wouldn’t be caught dead in it either.”

Cobalt looked down at his vest, it definitely hadn’t cost a thousand bits, not even near a hundred.

“Too fancy for me, not enough for him then,” Cobalt summarized, “which begs the question, who would wear them... willfully that is.”

They both chuckled and fell to a cheery silence, casually Cobalt checked to see if the line had moved, it had but not by much. Instead of the simple steady flow, the line seemed to be dictated by whomever was at the table presently, gathering what he or she wanted before the next one began moving in. Cobalt had to wonder at the logic of this.

“Ah, I’m afraid I have to cut this short.” North Bound said, breaking Cobalt from his contemplations. “I do believe I have spotted my father’s entourage, come to ‘save me’ from the brutish ways and soiling proximity of the common folk. Yes, I can see, there is my father’s Entourage-Warden glaring at me now, he does that when he wants to say ‘get over here NOW’.”

“Ah, well, are they joining us or…?” Cobalt asked.

“Unfortunately, no.” North Bound said, cutting himself out of the line. “Well, must go so, sorry this is so abrupt but, goodbye.”

“It was nice talking with you.” Cobalt said after him, North Bound turned his head a moment, then nodded before returning back to his low trot taking him to the small but well clad assortment of ponies that were expecting him.

The line proceeded and soon Cobalt returned to the task of keeping up with the line.

“Cobalt?” came a voice a minute later or so.

It was one of the guards that had escorted him previously.

“I’ve been looking for you,” said the guard. “We need to get back.”

“But... but I’ve been... in the line,” Cobalt said. “I... I was told that there... would be appetizers.”

“You kinda left pretty fast,” said the guard. “Our appetizers are being delivered. When Dusty invited you, it wasn’t to join a line down here, it was to join him in selecting what was going to be sent up to the booth. Princess Celestia sent four of us to find you.”

“Oh,” Cobalt said, a little sad to be giving up his place in line, it hadn’t been an unpleasant wait but it he had been there, dutifully queuing in the line. It was time he had spent and now, it felt like it was time that had been wasted. Then he looked curiously at the guard, as he was there alone.

“We split up, it’s a big theater,” said the guard.

“Yeah,” Cobalt agreed, breaking off from the line and following the guard back to the balcony access stairway. “Yeah it is.”

“…And?” Princess Luna protested. “Tell me what happened then?”

“Nothing much,” Celestia responded. “he was a bit too distracted by the snacks to realize the play had started without him, he completely missed the ‘trap’ scene but in that he didn’t miss much, even he admitted that unless things ‘didn’t go according to plan’ then he’d already heard what was going to happen anyway. There was a little spat though and he ended up yelling out loud when Dusty ignored him and wouldn’t give him an answer to his question concerning the snacks.”

“Oh?” Luna said curiously. “And what, pray tell, was so important?”

Celestia was forced to hold back a laugh that nearly made her snort.

“He was trying to ask... “ Celestia said, barely holding back her hysterics. “Whether or not it was safe for ponies to eat SHRIMP!”

Celestia rolled back laughing.

“But, certainly he knew it was safe?” Luna said, confused. “I did the research myself, they have shrimp on his world, he should know it is safe!”

“That’s just it!” Celestia said, still struggling to contain her humor. “His world, where they’re all omnivores! Once he came here he’s had it in his head that all of that, ALL of that, was completely different now. He had NO IDEA that shrimp were still edible!”

Luna looked at her sister as the latter failed to hold back a few more snickers and spurts.

“And, the rest of the play?” Luna asked.

“Oh, you know, same as it always is,“ Celestia said, finding it easier to hold the humor back now that they were on boring topics again. “The trap was set; Princess Platinum saw through the trap and decided to do nothing, just leave the slaves there for the time being; The earth ponies and pegasi conspired together, and freed the remaining slaves themselves; miscommunication between the two caused them to each lose some ponies in the scuffle with the griffons. This caused the Pegasi to blame the Earth Ponies for their losses and the Earth Ponies blamed the pegasi for the same.’

‘Then the griffons enacted their contract-trap so as to get the ponies into debt, which mostly works and the kingdom finds itself deeply indebted to the griffons, much to the chagrin and surprise of Princess Platinum; The ponies found a nation of dogs that were initially wanting arable land and at first were set on taking the land from the ponies, but Princess Platinum eventually convinced them to come to an agreement. In this new agreement the dogs would take on the debt and the ponies would pay them back in food, the catch there being that after signing the agreement, if the ponies could not fulfill their end, then they would forfeit their lands to the dogs instead.’

‘Princess Platinum was still miffed at being circumvented and in a fit of spite, accepts the deal without consulting with the other tribes first; earth ponies were forced to start working the fields even when their special talents were otherwise; eventually difficulties arose and disagreements caused rifts, the windigos started gathering and the cold started settling in and soon the nation didn’t have enough food to feed itself let alone pay any debts with it.’

‘Finally they were forced to forfeit their land and go find a new one while the dogs moved in; the three tribes stumbled across new lands, searching for a home, and eventually their leaders got forced into a lonely cave, surrounded by the cold and windigos that had followed them; There, though the leaders were themselves frozen, their companions were able to restore trust and harmony between themselves and eventually, their leaders as well.’

‘So, you know...

...the usual”

Luna was silent for a moment before responding: “It’s amazing that you can say that all in one breath.”

“He did spend some time looking over some of the play’s historical information.” Celestia said, ignoring her sister’s statement. “You know how it is, when they make a big production they want the audience to appreciate the authenticity so they’ll chronicalise what they used when putting it together. I myself hadn’t noticed, but Cobalt pointed out where they mentioned that they used paint to actually imitate the cutie-marks of the original characters. He seemed to appreciate the chance to see them up close.”

“You were wise to take precautions,” Luna said.

“He probably figured out what we were doing,” Celestia said. “But, if we’re lucky, he won’t think it’s important enough to research. Having them start the play in the latter half of the first act instead of the first half thereof kept him from the deeper parts of the history but... I don’t know. He’s not like Twilight, he is not my most faithful student, yet he’s kept himself from trying to find the information I’ve been keeping from him. A restraint he’s maintained from raw faith alone, and unless that faith starts to bear fruit soon, it’s not going to be sustaining his restraint for long, and then it will be impossible to keep the portal’s oldest secrets from him any longer.”

“He is growing,” Luna said. “Have you thought about where you’re going to put him when he becomes mobile?”

“I’m going to give him a job,” Celestia said plainly. “It’s the best thing really, something simple that he can do with a team, I can keep an eye on him and he’ll have a more secure income plus it’ll buy time to get the other project ready for him.”

“And what if this other project doesn’t turn out dear sister?” Luna asked. “It could all backfire if things don’t go according to plan.”

“Which is why we’ll have to be fairly picky on when and where,” Celestia said.

Report: (M/D) 1375 FE (2012 back home)

To: The Equestrian Portal Project Authority, Sr. Administrator: Dusty Legend.

CC: The US Stellar Psychic Alien Macrocosms; Admin.: Brian Majors.

CC: My family, address on file.

CC: Myself, for my own records.

From: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

I think I’m flying, it’s only a thought though.

I keep remembering things that I feel like they’re dreams. The thing is, my dreams are usually fairly varied but these are always the same, I’m just hovering in my bedroom, fairly still.

It’s still cold, but I’m going to try to fly while I’m awake, it’d kinda stink if I was only able to fly while I was asleep.

I think I’m starting to like winter again, even though my hoof is still sore at times.

There is an interesting bit of info that I received recently. There are two kinds of “royalty”, those that are natural alicorns and those that are “honorary”; this mostly consists of princes who fulfill the following requirements.

1-there are no existing alicorn princes. (this one is fairly obvious so most overlook this one)

2-are officially recognized as not sharing a bloodline with nor having any physical relation with any existing alicorn princess. (again, easily overlooked, apparently, there are several big houses that want to share a bloodline with one of the princesses (except Twilight's for some reason) but they keep getting denied)

3-must have served and be recognized to have served in a position of authority on the governmental (as in, not “local”) level. This can be basically anything where Princess Celestia (or Luna) tells a pony what to do, no matter how many ponies the orders go through, so long as it originates from her... or some other governmental official, so long as it doesn't originate from local authorities or non-government authorities.

4-must have served and be noted to have served either in foreign relations or as front-line in a military action or otherwise engaged in negotiation with a foreign power.

5-must have served at least 1 year (preferably 2 years) in some form of military service. (many of the nobility, the rich ponies that don’t officially have any power but often fill many sub-princess positions, in an effort to help more of their own to be eligible for princedom flood the princesses guard-positions with their kin)

6-must publish and be recognized or noted as having published a document pertaining to politics or the law in some way. Usually, "recognized" means that enough "noble" ponies, at least 12, sign something indicating that they recognize X document having been published and written by Y pony.

7-noted involvement in a major event in Equestrian history. (sometimes hiding in a corner while a tyrant attacks counts, usually a “major event” that really isn’t gets decided by some historical committee five years after the event in question. Until recently, "major events" were stretched fairly thinly, as in, ponies making excuses for something trivial as being major, just so they can get it past this one.)

8-proof of ownership of either a tract of land of some kind, or a company that brings in at least 5,000 bits-per-year or have at least 20,000 free standing bits at the time of being judged worthy of being a prince. (so yes, they could just all blow it afterwards)

9-get knighted by a reigning authority. (typically Celestia or Luna, this is the linchpin in the prince-making process as none of the princesses can be forced to knight anypony, though if the pony in question is unpopular enough it can be looked down upon by the nobility, there is a kind of power-cold-war between the princesses and the nobility, especially in this ‘honorary’ princes thing.)

The nobility basically consists of about 15 families in various positions. There is a good deal of family loyalty but middle-men and lower nobles, when panicked, can and will hide behind a strong noble leader of another family to protect the nobility in general. This may seem as a large security risk but honorary princes (and honorary princesses) have very little reigning authority and the odds of any outsider becoming a prince are very slim, requiring several tasks, being approved and recognized by the noble families, and finally getting the approval from at least one of the princesses. Even then, the “honorary prince” title is only good within the jurisdiction of the princess that bequeaths the title.

Author's Note

Yes, yes, I know, I KNOW!

It's been over a year (almost two) in the making and, oi, it's not nearly a year's worth of material.

I'm sorry about that.

I got a new job in July of 2014 and it got me flustered and I had to re-aclimate myself to everything.

Then I lost the job in like February or something.

Then I spent far MORE time trying to look for one.

Then I got shafted by a jerk on FimFic and got introduced to what hate feels like. That one... oi, that one REALLY threw me for a loop, I could hardly THINK about fanfics without the idea of him and his rudeness to come crashing through and flooding my head. I was so glad when I started hearing the rumor that he was getting kicked out.

Then I got one a couple weeks ago.

By that time I had the whole story written out, I just needed to proofread it... a lot.

I got a text-to-speech converter and have been listening to the story, looking for errors. It means I can't listen to any music or I'll get distracted, but on the upside, it's WAY easier to listen to a story than to read it. Also, since I'd been over the story a lot (nearly 2 years writing and you don't think I got bored with it after a while?!) that was a more daunting task than you'd think.

But, I got it done.

When I realized that I could either push myself and get it done by the 24th or leave it till later I deliberately chose to leave it till later, the 25th is an unlikely time for passers-by to go looking for new fics or updated chapters, but on the 26th? Yeah, it's believable. So I figured I'd do some last-minute proofreading and update on the 25th so it'll be up on the front page (maybe, I dunno how it works) still on the 26th.

Anyway, it's been so long that I have to go over my notes to figure out what the next chapter is supposed to be. For now, enjoy.

Chapter 06: "Snow Devils and Silver Linings"

Author's Note

Hello everypony! I'm terribly sorry I haven't been working on these like I should have. The past few years have been... not good for writing. Anyway I've pushed myself back and hopefully I can start making these more often. I REALLY want to finish this story and we're just getting started. That's why I put the Author's Note on top this time, to apologize first for how long the wait has been. I really am sorry. And I do hope that the chapter is good. I do my own proofreading on these. I've asked a few people but nobody wants to help so... yeah, just gotta do it on my own then.

Chapter 06: "Snow Devils and Silver Linings"

The Price of Wings

Chapter: 06

"Snow Devils and Silver Linings"

Written by Arcict Gray

Report: (M/D) 1376 FE; from: Cobalt Skies, AKA, Simon Carbuncle Baker

I’M FLYING!

I’m actually FLYING!

Last week, I caught myself flying in my sleep. I’ve suspected this has been the case for some time. I would have dreams of flying, not the usual dreams, but flying inside the room. Then I’d wake up for no apparent reason, but the covers would be off of me and sometimes I’d be on the floor instead of in bed. When I did catch myself, I actually bumped my head on the ceiling.

The injury was a tad odd. I hit the crown, the top of my head, but it was the forehead that hurt the most. Maybe I just hit it oddly or pinched a nerve or something.

At any rate, it taught me a lot. There was a feeling that I hadn’t realized was there, like energy flowing through my wings and into the air. It was when I started focusing on this feeling that I started getting off the ground.

I don’t really know any tricks yet, it’s hard enough just trying to control my flights in order to go anywhere, but I’m learning fast. I was in the air a lot today, several hours I think.

Tomorrow, what else? More flying practice. Though I should do it away from the house, apparently my flying is disrupting the air around me so much that it’s started knocking down some things in the house whenever I practice.

In fact, flying had proved a greater challenge than Cobalt had anticipated. While true, he had found himself flying while asleep, waking up in mid-air, actually getting into the air in a controlled or even consistent manner was proving another thing entirely.

Cobalt, though trying to fly, had more often failed, flailed, flopped, fluttered, fallen, floated, flittered, flipped, flattened, flung, and fumbled himself in a flurry of attempts that left him fuming, festering, and wanting to fold.

The "energy" he that felt was proving fickle; it was the key to getting anything other than embarrassment out of flapping his wings. The problem was, whenever the power was “on” he’d just end up shooting up into the air uncontrollably; it was as though his wings were either “off” or “OVERPOWERED” with no in between settings.

He was starting to get the hang of takeoffs though, if he focused on symmetry between his wings he could usually keep his direction straight enough that he could often predict his landing. Gliding back down was fairly easy, just keep his wings straight and keep the power on until he landed, simple enough.

He paused around lunch time to take a break, hoping that a bit of lunch and a fresh perspective might help him to see something he might be missing.

After a few apples and some hay, Cobalt was back to the flight-training-grounds he'd selected for himself, far enough away that he wouldn't cause any damage, but not so far that he couldn't make it back if he... broke anything.

Cobalt saw a dust devil kicking up along the snow in the field. Watching it as it wisped along, twisting and dropping as much snow as it picked up, a strange feeling started to come over him. Cobalt no longer wanted to train, he wanted to follow the breeze, to blow away, like a leaf on the wind, to see the world while not really being a part of it. Cobalt wanted to see it all, to orbit the trees and clouds, even if he was never really one of them.

The dust devil died away as it lost energy and a new feeling filled Cobalt, one of emptiness and loss. A dust devil is a relatively common phenomenon, but tended to be hard to spot because they could only be seen by the debris they kicked up, if any; being common, but feeling rare, thus Cobalt felt a sense of loss as the dust devil died.

And a new thought began forming.

“If I’m ‘flying’ by pushing on the wind... can I push on the wind without flying?” Cobalt thought.

Some practice and a few flaps later and Cobalt was making his own dust devils. Pushing the air and watching it curl, arcing to 90 degrees of where he had sent it, and then arcing from that direction, and from that one, and from that one, spinning and twisting as it did so. Unnatural dust devils as he created were even more short lived, however, relying purely on momentum to exist but still, Cobalt was proud of himself for having unlocked this particular pegasus power.

He started working on just waves instead of devils.

The game continued, first with a few more waves, then trying to see what happened when he made a wave that clashed with an oncoming one. Then he tried really strong waves, pushing the energy higher and flapping harder to make a really big burst of wind. That one had pushed back at Cobalt, flipping him onto his back and nearly causing him to miss the wave he'd created as it tore across the field, dissipating a quarter of a mile later. Still feeling strained, Cobalt tried to tone it down after that, no sense hurting himself over a little light game.

The smaller waves weren’t as fun or impressive, but they were a little curious.

Cobalt looked at one of his wings, as if for the first time.

"This energy..." Cobalt said, "it's more than just 'on' and 'off', isn't it. I can push it... or restrain it."

Cobalt flapped again, keeping the energy "off" this time, as he expected, nothing unusual happened, feathery wings through a gaseous medium.

Then he squeezed a tiny bit of the energy out, just enough that he could barely feel it, and flapped again. This time, the air responded, but barely, more so than to his previous “off” but definitely less than his “on” before.

Cobalt continued to practice, testing his energy to get more comfortable with the control thereof, never at full strength, but never “off” either.

"I've been using too much," Cobalt said to himself after a while. "Too much energy and the air responds like it's almost a solid, and every small mistake gets multiplied, no wonder I can't control it, if I'm not spot-on perfect with each movement I'm going to go tumbling out of control."

He flapped hard and rapidly, and slowly he began to rise. When he'd reached ten feet, he stopped flapping and simply glided his way back down to the ground. Then he tried again, a few more times, doing his best to gauge the results. After that, he began again, pushing the "energy" just a little higher, comparing the results there.

As he pushed the "energy" more, his wings seemed more deeply rooted in the air and forced it to flow more. Because of this, at higher energy states, he could burst and accelerate a high degree, but the air also fought him. Whenever he tried to move in a straight line, the higher his "energy" was, the more the air bunched up and fought him.

And that was another weird thing he discovered about the "energy", the more of it that he used, the more it seemed to react with the air around him, not just his wings, but the very air itself. At higher "energy" levels Cobalt noticed that the air, even when he wasn't flapping, just seemed thicker, more present, almost tangible.

It wasn't perfect, indeed, Cobalt's flying was far from even calling it “good” and he crashed several times, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that he now knew how basic flight mechanics worked. He was actually flying now.

Cobalt did it again, landing and taking off several times. Eventually, Cobalt decided he needed to start giving names to the energy levels he was using. With some experimentation he came up with “flight energy” which was the most comfortable energy level he felt like using when flying. He figured this energy would change as he got more used to it but he didn’t care, it was defined by what it was, not by some stupid number. As the day drew on, Cobalt came up with a few more names that he hoped he could remember as he turned back to the farm to the next set of challenges that awaited him... the day’s chores.

Over the next few days, Between the chores he did around the farm and his flying practice sessions, Cobalt found himself often getting to bed as a nigh zombie. While this helped him to sleep well, yet it also meant that it was harder for him to get up in the mornings and he often slept in when he could get away with it.

Cobalt was, therefore, still asleep when he heard a knock at the door.

"Cobalt, get up, there's a pegasus here to see you," Cobalt heard Red's muffled voice coming through the door. It took a few moments for him to really pick himself up, during which time Red knocked again.

"Yeah, I'm up," Cobalt called back, slowly peeling himself from the bed.

* * *

Silver Lining considered himself a patient stallion, he had raised 2 foals and had worked and risen his way up on the corporate ladder to the Division Chief of the Weather Watching division. True, it wasn’t a very glamorous division, but wild weather could crop up from any direction, even from within (thanks to the Everfree Forest) and the weatherponies could be caught off guard if somepony wasn’t watching out for it.

Being given this task, to coach and train some colt how to fly, felt insulting. Cementing the affront was the messenger, who kept insisting that this absurd order came from Celestia herself, as if that would ever happen. It was more likely that the Cloudsdale elders simply wanted to have some fun at his expense.

Silver Lining’s patience became even more strained when, instead of the colt he was waiting for, only a lone blue stallion emerged. Said stallion also had obviously no real sense for taste, if you're going to wear an ugly gray cape you might as well not wear anything at all. Even worse was that it covered up the stallion's cutie mark, making it look like he was trying to hide something... badly at that.

“Are you... Cobalt?” Silver Lining asked.

“Yeah,” Cobalt said, holding back a yawn.

Silver Lining rolled his eyes, “I’m Silver Lining, and I was supposed to be here to train some colt how to fly or something but honestly, if it’s just a prank then, I’m out.”

Silver Lining turned to fly away.

“I need help,” Cobalt said quickly. “At least... I might.”

“You’re a stallion!” Silver said. “How can you need help?!”

“I’ve never flown before!” Cobalt insisted. “I literally haven’t gotten my fee... my hooves off the ground before! I’ve only managed to start flying within the past week.”

Silver just looked at him, his face stuck in utter disbelief.

“What!” Cobalt said. “It’s true!”

“No, just... no,” Silver said. “It is just not possible for a pegasus to be that old and never have gotten up into the air before!”

Silver began pacing, trying to get over the absurdity of what he was hearing.

“If you’re really here to train me,” Cobalt said. “Then... perhaps you were given some paperwork or something that... explains what’s going on?”

Silver looked at him, his face a mask of consternation and uncertainty. Finally he shook himself.

"Look just... just do some laps for me okay?" Silver said, reaching into his saddlebags and fishing out some papers he’d been given.

"Laps?" Cobalt asked. "Like, fly around the farm or something?"

"I... yeah sure, whatever," Silver said, not looking up from the papers.

At first Cobalt felt a little cheated, he'd gotten up out of bed early to be bossed around by someone who didn't even want to be here. As he got ready to do a few laps though he started to feel differently, he'd done laps before but they were always on his own volition, for his own reasons, it felt selfish, like he was only doing it for himself. But this time, now that someone else wanted him to do them gave him a sense of purpose, a reason, it wasn’t a big reason, and he didn’t know the purpose, but he still felt something different, meaningful, about it.

Cobalt liked flying low, if he flew too high he couldn't get a good sense for how fast he was going, and a part of him feared getting lost if he didn't keep sight of the farm. His hoof still ached sometimes when he thought about being lost out here.

There was the field and then the side yard where he crossed the road, then there was the patch of trees that often got in his way. Cobalt considered his habit, which was usually to fly over them, for some reason, he didn't want to do that this time.

Though fast approaching, Cobalt considered the factors, flying over was a bit of a cheat and required more energy to go up higher, energy that was in a way, wasted, because he'd just go lower again after he got past the trees. On the other hand... or hoof, the two biggest issues were the branches and brambles and then the trunks themselves. The brambles and underbrush Cobalt wasn't worried about because it was still winter, and with enough snow that anything still standing was probably bogged down. The branches were also less of an issue because the trees had been fairly well maintained and the lower branches were trimmed.

Time was up, Cobalt had to choose, he stayed low.

The trees came up and zoomed past him far faster than he was comfortable with and he found himself searching frantically for a way around.

"Stop" Cobalt thought to himself. "Don't see the trees, focus on the negative space between them, this is easy, just like the playground."

With a new vision, several paths opened up, Cobalt chose one that looked easy and followed through, looking for the negative spaces between the trees, weaving between them as he followed his chosen path. Ironically, as he mused on the experience later, the weaving probably took more energy than just going over them would have. Soon he saw the end, the edge of the trees but again, a choice to be made, he could expend a little more energy and avoid the tree before him entirely or he could be lazy and narrowly avoid it.

Decision made, Cobalt focused on the tree and, turning sideways, actually managed to kick off of it, gaining a small burst of speed as he tore out of the trees and into the open again. Looking back Cobalt saw that his speed was kicking up a good deal of snow behind him, it actually reminded him of the smoke or snow effect that he'd see in movies and car commercials.

Smirking, Cobalt couldn't help but want to see what was up next, and how could he have fun with it like he'd had with the trees.

It took Cobalt a moment to recognize where he was going, having usually gone over the trees he'd usually had a bird's-eye-view of his next step. He turned, making a long and lazy curve, taking advantage of the open field as he crossed back towards the road and.

Cobalt gulped, the clothesline. While it was too cold during the winter for clothes to dry outside, yet the posts were still up. Cobalt had always intended to find out if the lines were still up, every single time he circled the farm he wanted to... up until the point where he finally landed and his mind got caught up in other things.

The disruption to his routine meant that "the line" caught him off guard and had to make a quick decision, high or low. Cobalt's mind weighed the few factors that mattered to him, the short time he had, the uncertainty and probability of the line being there at all, the odds of it hanging low enough for him to go under it and, finally, how much time he'd need to go safely over.

Cobalt took a gamble and slowed down, pitching and tucking his head at the last moment so that he hit the ground, rolling under where the line would likely be and then kicked off back into the air as soon as he was past the poles.

The gamble worked and he didn't get caught, though he was still unsure whether the line was even there to get caught in.

Beyond the posts were a few scattered trees and the garden in the back, both of which Cobalt gave a wide berth to. Then he was back to the yard where Silver Lining was still reading his papers.

"Here's where the chores begin," Cobalt said, bracing himself for the tedium of repetition, despite his recent changes to the routine. He kept the laps up, remembering the line this time and flying deliberately over it.

As usual when he was bored, Cobalt's mind started wandering and, as he had a few times when he'd flown around the farm, he started imagining things, dreaming them up in his head. He wasn't flying past and around trees, he was dodging between AT-ATs on Hoth. Out of the trees in the open, he was Deidara trying to evade Gaara's sand (which was white now because it was snow kicking up behind him). He was Harry Potter, riding a broom to evade a dragon who was, somehow, always right behind him.

His daydreams got frustrated with the clothesline and eventually he just stopped and paused by one of the posts, getting a closer look at it and confirming that yes indeed... the clothesline had been taken down for the season. With that in mind, Cobalt continued his laps around the farm until Silver Lining stopped him.

"So, according to this," Silver lining said, holding up his papers. "You're supposed to have some kind of ambassadorial status or something, I don't understand half of it because it seems to be deliberately avoiding giving anything specific."

"Can I see the papers?" Cobalt asked, having landed close by.

Cobalt looked over the papers, being careful not to let them fall onto the snow, which was tricky with hooves. He didn't want to waste time to he skimmed as much as he could, trying to pick up the gist of the wording without getting bogged down with the details. It appeared that Celestia had tried wording the document to indicate that he (Cobalt) was some kind of ambassador or something, it was infuriatingly vague. It made it sound as though the reason Cobalt needed lessons was because he hadn't been "allowed" to fly where he grew up.

"I'll be honest," Cobalt said, looking up from the papers to address Silver directly. "I don't like the wording on them."

"How are you an ambassador?" Silver said skeptically. "And where in Equestria is a pegasus pony not allowed to fly?"

"What do you mean in Equestria?" Cobalt asked, trying to bring home the logical conundrum. The papers had tried hinting that Cobalt wasn't from Equestria.

"I..." Silver said, stopping to think about what he'd said.

"Look, I... I'll level with you," Cobalt said. "My... my existence, where I'm from, what I was, it's all one really big secret. Most people from back home don't even know I've left, let alone know what I'm doing."

"Okay, but why don't you know how to fly?!" Silver exclaimed. "I watched you, you're, well, you're good enough for a colt but... how?!"

"Because I've never had wings before," Cobalt said solemnly. "That's really the big secret, that I used to be something different... something that didn’t even have wings."

"What you were?" Silver said, still trying to comprehend. "Like... you were transformed through magic? You... you were something else?! What were you?!"

Cobalt hesitated, finally responding with "I'm not allowed to say. I’m sorry but seriously, it'd be a big breach of national security if I did."

"So, I'm just not allowed to know then? Is that it?!" Silver said, more than a little angrily.

"Nobody is. But, if it helps, it is a bit of a testament to how much Celestia must trust you that you are allowed to know this much," Cobalt said, trying to calm Silver down. To help reassure him, Cobalt handed back the papers. If Silver wanted to know more he could always reread them and try to glean more from them. Silver indeed did look them over again, but quickly, as though he could just will the missing information to reveal itself within a few seconds.

Silver looked back up at Cobalt, the look on his face saying everything that needed to be said. Silver didn't know what to do.

"How about," Cobalt suggested. "I do a few more laps and you go over the papers again, ya know, a fresh look."

Silver grumbled something and then opened the papers again, looking them over. Cobalt took back to the air and started doing a few more laps. Two laps in and Cobalt noticed something curious, the landscape had changed.

Landing, Cobalt looked around for a moment. The changes he saw were fairly subtle, but not encouraging. The trees, which were barren for the winter, appeared blackened and scorched and he could see that they were missing branches. The snow, which previously had only a few shoots of grass poking through the snow's surface was now bleak and devoid of even long dead weeds. Turning Cobalt was a little startled to find that the patch of woods was basically gone, only a few barren trees remaining, like the others they too were missing several branches. Turning again, Cobalt saw the most horrifying sight yet, the farm itself was all but gone, only a few posts from the foundations and a couple blackened stones from the chimney. What was worse, from the scattering of stones on the ground it looked like the house hadn't fallen in so much as it had been blown away.

Cobalt stood up, looking around, wondering, fearing, breathing hard. How? How had the world changed so rapidly, even the snow looked like it held a sickly green-

"Hey, you awake?" Silver said, putting a hoof on Cobalt's shoulder, jerking him out of his stupor. Cobalt looked again, everything was back the way he remembered it, the snow was just as it should be, as was the farm, and the trees and everything else.

Cobalt shook himself and blinked a few times just to prove that the world was right again. It didn't change back.

"Sorry," Cobalt said. "I must have... spaced out."

"It's all right," Silver Lining said, removing his hoof from Cobalt's shoulder. "Look, I've reread everything and... it's crazy. It's just crazy but... well, I guess if you really don't know how to fly, I mean, really fly, then yeah, you need a teacher, and one who can... keep your secret I guess. I don't suppose... oh crap you haven't!"

"Haven't what?" Cobalt asked.

"You haven't even taken The Flying Learner’s Aptitude Probe yet!" Silver exclaimed.

"I don't know what The Flying Learner’s whatever’s even is," Cobalt retorted mildly.

"It... well," Silver said, trying to figure out how to explain it. "See, every pegasus is basically on weather duty, whether they're good with the weather or not. We're basically the only ones who can do the job so we're all needed to do it. But that doesn’t mean they can just give you a job, not without knowing what you’re good at first. The The Flying Learner’s Aptitude Probe, F.L.A.P. for short is designed to help them know what jobs to give who."

"Sounds... like it'd take some amount of practice to work up to," Cobalt admitted, thinking it sounded like the SAT or ACT back home.

"Yeah... er, by the way, what is your cutie mark?" Silver Lining asked.

Cobalt groaned lightly, he'd been dreading this question. With all the gusto of pulling off a generic-brand adhesive bandage Cobalt moved aside his cape/blanket, revealing his flanks were blank.

Silver Lining just stared at him.

"Yeah," Cobalt said, hiding his flanks behind the blanket again. "Yeah, that, I haven't been a pony long enough to get my mark yet."

Silver Lining just shook himself.

"It's... uncanny how casually you can say that," Silver said. "But, yeah, you're right. I guess that... if you haven't been a pony for that long... Wow, I just... wow."

Silver stopped, then went back to the papers, looking them over quickly, apparently looking for something specific. Finally he stopped rifling and just stared at one particular paragraph for several moments.

"Three weeks" Silver said, a little weakly.

"What, what is it?" Cobalt asked.

"The F.L.A.P.," Silver said. "It... you’re scheduled to take one in three weeks."

"That’s... not a lot of time," Cobalt said under his breath. "So, what do I need to do?"

"I... I don't know," Silver said. "Colts and Fillies spend years learning, they don't take it until they're really ready to start looking for a job instead of just volunteering. We... ROADAPPLES three weeks!! Three MONTHS maybe, you don’t know anything about... ANYTHING!"

"I think I know more than you think I do," Cobalt said, pride and confidence joining the mix of his emotions.

"What can you possibly know? Silver Lining challenged. "You've never taken a flight test before, heck, if what you say is true, I doubt you've ever even SEEN somepony fly before! Do you even know what a roll is?"

"A 'roll' is where you rotate, your turn being centered around the Z-axis," Cobalt said, not missing a beat. Flying games and games with flying segments were amongst his favorites.

"Okay, so you do know what a roll is," Silver Lining said. "Alright, maybe this can work."

"I think we should go over what gets tested, I can see what I know and what I don't and work on what I'm weakest at," Cobalt suggested.

"Maybe," Silver said, still thinking things over. "Maybe."

Report: Cobalt Skies- - - - - - - - - -
This past week has been a blur of work, training, practice, and trying out new things and tricks and stuff. All for the purposes of getting ready for my "The Flying Learner’s Aptitude Probe "... yes, FLAP for short. Seriously, the way some of them talk you'd assume that they were always in front of a live audience and always trying to crack a joke or something.

From what I understand, the FLAP will test the following...

Wing Strength - this is apparently the overall strength of the muscles in your wings.

Flight Endurance - How long you can stay in the air while carrying a weight (not sure how heavy)

Polarity - This one is weird, apparently when I synchronize with the air I can shift its temperature a little... “North” = colder, “South” = warmer. We currently think mine is "north" which means I turn the air colder, but being winter it’s hard to tell.

Air Sensing - Most pegasi are able to sense the air around them, feeling out storms and weather. This is one I fear I'm not going to be very good at because even after a week of practice I can't sense much.

Air Space - A pegasus has a kind of "area" around his body where he can control the air. The larger the air-space the better. This one has me excited because, according to Silver Lining, my air-space is HUGE!

Spatial Awareness - Similar to air senses but more mundane. This is basically one's ability to remain spatially aware. I should mention that if somepony takes the test more than once it's because they expect scores such as these might have changed as they got older, this is one of the scores that is likely to change with age. Games like Descent and Halo are part of the reason I think I'm going to do okay with this one.

Air Thickness - The air a pegasus can control in their "area" can be made "thicker" in some way. I'm not sure how useful that is but apparently it really helps for taking off and for certain weather control situations. Much like my Air Space this one is cranked up pretty high, but... well, I'm less excited about it because it just seems like it might not be as useful.

Anchorage - Get this, pegasi... can walk on clouds. How well you can anchor yourself to the air and to the clouds determines how easy this is. Anchorage itself is how strong your anchorage is. Apparently this also affects how fast you can fly, anchoring yourself to the air and pulling yourself along via your wings.

Anchor Control - Again, this deals with anchorage (not the one in Alaska), though instead of how strong or anchored you are, it deals with how easy it is to control. A pegasus with good control can go from "clouds are solid" to "clouds are non solid" and basically pull a "phase through walls" for anything made out of clouds whenever they want.

Constitution (anti-airsick-ness) - This one seems cool. Turning and twisting around can really churn the stomach up. One's resistance to air sickness, or just feeling sick from getting twisted around and stuff is measured as "constitution".

Acceleration - how fast a pegasus can accelerate. The air thickness and anchorage can affect this, as can wing strength.

Breaking - Similar to acceleration but effectively the opposite, Breaking is how quickly you can get to zero, very useful if you don't want... er, mechanical breaking assistance offered by (hopefully) flat surfaces perpendicular with gravity.

Agility - Just because you can go fast doesn't mean that you can turn on a dime. Agility is, apparently, how sharp your turns are.

Flexibility - Just because I'm a pony doesn't mean I'm a statue, apparently flexibility is something they test for as well.

Straight Speed - Acceleration is cool and all, but they also test for one's maximum speed. Air thickness and anchorage do play parts but apparently making the air too thick actually works against you.

Generation (make clouds) - Apparently, pegasi can "create" clouds within the air they can control (See also, "Air Space"), this is how easily you can do it.

Reflexes - Reflexes are reflexes... just like back home.

Spin Control - Spinning, or torque, is different than simple acceleration, and takes different muscles and different forms of control. Spin Control is how well you can get into, maintain, and get out of a spin. Apparently, for advanced flight training and testing, there are machines designed to put you into an out-of-control spin to test yourself against.

Obedience - Obedience seems like a weird one to be tested on but, honestly, a part of me is surprised we aren't testing people in this back home anyway.

Creativity - I don't know how they test for creativity but... well, I guess they do. I should mention that we aren't given "scores" so much as "evaluations" so I guess being vague is a bit more accurate with something as subjective as creativity. I dunno.

Intelligence - Ah, the wizard's fallback attribute. And I guess it works well for accountants too, I dunno, I always thought their fallback attribute was “evilness”.

Understanding - This one feels like it's a redundant form of intelligence but upon further reflection I think I'm starting to see the point. Creativity, Intelligence and Understanding form like a kind of triangle. Creativity helps to think outside of the box, Intelligence calculates what's inside the box, and Understanding is knowing what the box is and what it’s for in the first place.

Cutie Mark - Ah, this one. I don't think I'm going to get it before the test which will make finishing it a fairly awkward thing.

Special Talent - Tied with the Cutie Mark is one's "special talent" which seems weird, even looking back on it. Still, it's a moot point without actually having a cutie mark... yet... hopefully.

There is a part of me that does feel nervous. I've never been one who really sweated going into a test. When they test you, they're just testing on what you know, if you want to do well... then learn more. But we're training pretty hard, there isn't a day now where I don't go to bed sore. If this is how intense the training is, I can't help but wonder... how hard is the test going to be?

chapter 07: "Friends"

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.