The Everfree expedition

by Camlan

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 1078

an archeologic expedition into the everfree

A group of professorial ponies go on an archeological expedition into the Everfree, and begin to discover some unsettling things about equestria's history.. It's hard to give more of a description than that at this point.
This is a story I began to write in my spare time, and I'm just going to let it take its course, so yeah!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-24 15:20:08 UTC

rain

Rain falls perpetually through the Everfree canopy. The Everfree is not a rainforest, but it has come to resemble one. Since the expedition set out, there has been naught but rain, or when the rain briefly stops, moist darkness, as it seems the forest has malevolently contrived to hide the sun from the party altogether, creating strange gaps through which light may not reflect while water trickles down easily. The guides say Everfree weather is nearly impossible to predict and the rain may last indefinitely or vanish tomorrow. For now, it continues, Earth turning to mud that catches hooves and the ancient and half over-grown paths becoming swampy nightmares. To make matters worse, the rain seems to have brought with it a melancholy that infects the whole of the campsite. Saga Briar wishes he could say it has not struck him, but it is difficult to stare at the oppressive gray hanging above the world, thousands of crystalline drops falling from it without regard for the work of ponies, and not feel morose. However, his case is mild compared to other sufferers.

The ponies, Saga among them, watch the rain, dejectedly. They no longer care about the rain, about getting wet, and so they sit exposed around what should have been a fire-pit, yet because of the rain is reduced to a circle of slippery logs around a few stones that used to be arranged in a circle before most were washed away, leaving no sign that a fire waits there to be kindled. Many of Saga’s colleagues, all respected professors back in Equestria, have begun to develop hostilities toward their fellows, perhaps blaming them for the unceasing rain, but conversation still continues. Right now it is about famous archeological finds, which Saga knows nothing about, so he sits by and watches the rain fall and shadowy things move in the depths of the Everfree.

There are ten professors on the expedition, along with about as many assistants, and fifteen guides. The guides are all earth ponies, the assistants are all pegasi, except for one unicorn, but the professors are a  relatively diverse lot. Five are pegasi, two are Earth ponies (Saga is one of those) and three are unicorns. The preponderance of pegasi is a result of the expedition being funded by the University of Cloudsdale, which employs predominantly pegasi, seeing as it is a great pain to have to apply a spell every few days simply to keep from plummeting through the bottom of one’s classroom. Indeed, Saga is the only earth pony professor there he knows, though there are a few unicorns. He has a sneaking suspicion his race was actually the reason he was chosen, as his specialty, ancient pegasine poetry does not make him particularly important for an archeological expedition.

The unicorns are all from Canterlot, which is dominated by unicorns as well, though not quite as disproportionally as pegasi dominate UCloudsdale. The other earth pony is not even an archeologist or a historian, but a biologist, chosen for his knowledge of Everfree flora and fauna.

Saga is jolted from reveries by a hoof on his shoulder. His spins around, perhaps a bit too fast, though his nervousness is understandable. The forest brings out the jumpiness in the most placid of ponies. However, Saga does feel a bit silly when he sees Whiteshanks, an old acquaintance, bordering on friend, standing behind him with amusement upon his face. “Saga, are you alright? You seem a bit jumpy.”

Saga sighs. “I’m fine. This damned forest just sets me a bit on edge.”

“I know the feeling.” Whiteshanks smiles toothily. “But I just wanted to stop by to tell you what ‘Trician said.” ‘Trician (short for Patrician-terrible name if you ask Saga) is the expedition leader, an older pegasi, chair of the archeology department at UC.

“And what did he say?”

“We’ll be at our first dig site tomorrow or the day after that. The guides aren’t quite sure, Everfree being what it is and all."

Saga nods, glad that at least that the expedition will be able to focus upon the practical matter of an archeological dig. As his mother always said, work banishes worry. He wants to be glad that the rain will be stopping, but he is not too sure about that. The connection Pegasus innately have with the weather seems to be less effective in the Everfree, which exists in an almost permanent state of chaos, weather coming and going as it likes, trees sprouting up as they will, new species appearing overnight.

"Also, he said it’s going to stop raining tomorrow. I don’t know if I feel that, but I do feel some sort of slackening.”

“Good.” Saga replies, trying his best to look as if he believes the rain really will stop. He knows how hard it is to feel out of one’s element. For earth ponies, the Earth is everything. It is their mother, and their guardian, more even than Celestia is, and to be divorced from it as Saga regularly is, in Cloudsdale, that is painful. The Pegasus need no reminder that the sky, their guardian, has utterly turned its back on them in this alien place. “It’ll be nice to see the sun and get to working again.”

Whiteshanks  looks up into the sky almost wistfully. He gazes at it for a second, then turns his attention back to Saga. “So what are you going to do when we start excavating? It’s not really like you can analyze the verse structure of old pottery.”

This is a question Saga himself has been wondering. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why I’m on this expedition. Perhaps I should go talk to ‘Trician, figure out what I can do. At the very least, I can carry stuff for you guys.”

“Uhh… I don’t think you can even do that. The equipment is pretty delicate, and the relics, well…”

“Really? Well… I really… maybe there’ll be some writings or hieroglyphics, I mean, I minored in-“

Whiteshanks laughs. “Hey, I’m just bucking with you. You can carry equipment. It’s not like you need a degree to do that.”

Saga feels like he should laugh along with Whiteshanks, or chuckle appreciatively for the pegasus’ benefit, but he doesn’t. He has not felt much levity recently. It may be the rain.  The rain seeps into everything, through tents and clothes and through skin itself, carrying its grey melancholy with it as it goes.