Chapters Equestria.
A land filled with ponies, lush forests, vicious creatures, and... I could go on and on.
Ruled by a tyrant.
Celestia ruled the lands with an iron hoof. What she had commanded, all ponies were to follow.
Of course, this was only for ponies.
Gryphons were free from her tyrannical rule. They ruled the skies, whereas Celestia ruled the land.
It was only inevitable that she addressed this fact.
Due to the nature of Gryphons, Pegasi gained much royal favor and were regarded superior to any other kind of pony, besides the rare Alicorn. Nobles would have their eldest son or daughter train in all arts of combat, including marksmanship, swordsmanship, and stealth.
But, only if they were pegasi. Unicorns had lost their value; their magic was not considered helpful enough in the war effort. Earth ponies were considered higher than unicorns as their strength would be useful for many things. Some had obtained jobs as train conductors, porters, and blacksmiths.
Unicorns and other 'useless' Earth ponies were both slaves for the pegasi.
Well, somepony had to mine, and the pegasi were certainly not going to 'stoop to that level.'
Until a Unicorn or Earth pony had discovered their talent, he or she was relatively free; perhaps even equal with pegasi foals. Once one had obtained a cutie mark, he or she would either be stuck in a mine, or doing work that would contribute to the country.
Basically, if you were not skilled in anything relevant to participating in a war or supporting a country, you were to mine.
And so I did.
Meet the Forte family.
Nocer Forte was Celestia’s 2nd in command. He had almost the same power as her, and was every single bit as tyrannical as her. In fact, he was the one who had suggested forcing all 'useless' ponies to mine. Amongst the pegasi, he was considered a hero for his brilliant strategies. Despite his cunning tactics, he never wrote an instructive book or had a disciple. Thus, his strategies were impossible to match. Only his devious and shrewd mind could conceive such plans.
His only fault was he was all brains, but no brawn. He was assassinated quite easily.
Stre Forte was not as wise as his father, but he was said to be twice as ferocious and bloodthirsty. Nopony could speak of his real mane color because he was always covered from blood, head to hoof. Rumored to be faster than even light itself, he charged alone into gryphon invasions, armed with a knife. Observers supposedly saw him spin around a single gryphon, making a miniature tornado. When he had made a kill, it was obvious that it was him that had done so : cuts ranging from the head to the haunches with a final stab to the back of the neck.
Gryphons had sacrificed themselves to poison him with a toxic gas. He was bedridden for three months, until he had finally passed away.
Scild Forte was no warrior, nor tactical master. He was but a simple inventor. However, he had made guns that pegasi could fire. A gun would mounted below the right wing, and was triggered by a simple smack from the wing. The average flight pattern for a pegasi did not normally reach down that far, so very few accidental shots occurred. The guns devastated the gryphons once he had also invented explosive and homing rounds.
For a pegasi, Scild was abnormally caring for unicorns and earth ponies. Rumors had been around about he had fathered an illegitimate earth pony daughter. His compassion for “lesser” ponies led to one of his greatest projects of all : a pony-powered cannon which was designed to fire several explosive bombs to a maximum of two and a half kilometers.
It ended up in failure on the first test. The cannon had exploded, killing Scild and the earth ponies that were chosen to assist.
And then there was me.
The rumors were close. Scild did not father an earth pony, but rather a unicorn. I never really find out who was my mother was, but neither Celestia nor his wife’s family cared. The mare that married him was to inherit everything that the Forte family owned.
I was a unicorn. It was unlikely that I would inherit even a single bit.
Celestia did give me one chance though. I was of noble blood; I must of had a special skill or attribute that would help in the war.
When a pegasus begins learning combat, he or she is given three things. A mock-training gun, a wooden sword, and a dull wood dagger. With these, one was to learn stealth, swordsmanship, marksmanship, and the rest. Of course I was a unicorn, so I had received a old bow and iron arrows instead. Leftovers from when my kind was 'useful'.
As the months went by, it was clear to everypony. I was a unicorn, a pony imbued with the power of magic. I had no place in a society where agility marked your place.
As that fact became more and more apparent, I had began to differentiate myself as a unicorn, trying to use my unique qualities to improve other ponies’ opinions of me. In my free time, I would practice my magic. Reading from abandoned books, I followed their instruction to teach myself. I quickly learned that I had an aptitude for telekinesis and 'recalling'.
I'll try summarizing as best as I can. Recalling is summoning a familiar object. Its success depends on two things : the skill of the unicorn attempting to recall and the closeness the caster has towards the item being recalled. Besides that, the whole process was quite simple. One would focus on the item, and 'call' it back with magic. If a recalled item was recalled again, the first
I had grown quite fond of my bow and arrows, as it was a skill I was proud of. I eventually realized I could recall it, when I had found I had misplaced my bow one day.
Er. I’m sorry; I went a bit off-track there.
On the day of a training exam, I was confronted by a few of my peers before the test had started.
Now, I do not mean to brag, but I was one of the best of my class in marksmanship. Some pegasi had complained that it would be easier to aim with a bow than a gun. Others were upset with the fact that I was a unicorn, yet I was more skilled than pegasi. And the fact that I was constantly recalling my bow and arrows made the others think that I was showing off.
Perhaps a little.
In either case, the situation escalated to one that it should not have. One of my peers had managed to pilfer a steel dagger from his parents, and had pointed it at me. With no other choice, I had recalled my bow and raised it in self defence. The bold pegasus, full of haughty pride, laughed and began to fly in circles around me, taunting me into taking a shot against him. “You’re too much of a wimp to even try, unicorn!” he said with a sneer. Some pegasi were jeering at me too, shooting marker rounds at me with the mock guns. The other pegasi began to fly circles around me, hitting me with their wooden daggers from time to time.
Now, in my defense, I was young at the time. Not that I am old now, but I was much more naive than I am now. Even the most patient pony has to draw the line somewhere.
That’s all I can do is to retell and regret this.
With my bow, I killed him.
One by one, they pierced his flesh. With the first impact, he dropped the metal dagger; his face contorted with pain and surprise. As the fourth and fifth arrows flew, the second and third had already ripped off a wing, throwing blood-stained feathers into the air. His eyes were impaled, his wings torn away, his body nothing but a lifeless and cold pile of limbs.
It was the first time I had killed a pony. It’s no wonder I remember it so vividly.
I stood there, just stunned at my actions. I could not believe I had done that, but who else had arrows? Screams sounded off as the other pegasi stood dumbfounded.
“Y-you killed him!”
At his rally, the pegasi began to strike viciously . If anything was to be said, the trainers of these foals should be praised. I would probably be dead right now if I had not snapped at the first few shots and lunges.
Before I had realized what I had done, five of my pegasus peers were laying in the grass; red splattered all over the training ground, arrows laying at rest within corpses, and me, covered with their blood.
That was the day I got my Cutie Mark.
That was also the day I had lost my chance to redeem myself.
Once Celestia had heard, I was banished from Canterlot. Escorted by the Equestian Royal Guard, I slowly trotted off the train, staring at the surrounding cottages and flowers. I thought these would be the last things above ground I would see: an foreign and strange town, full of ponies I did not know, before I was sentenced for the rest of my life to mine in Blue Silver Mines.
When I had arrived, the guards had pointed to a hole to the right. Upon examination, its diameter was around the size of a small tent; its depth seemed to go forever.
As I peered down the hole, a sudden shove threw me inside.
When I had awoken, I found myself in a bed, covered with bandages.
The room I awoke in appeared to be an infirmary, or at least a shoddy attempt at one.
From the bed, I could hear the frantic shuffling of hooves as metallic picks struck the earth. There was quiet chit-chat from time to time, but aside from that, there were two other notable sounds. One of them was the harsh voices of ponies, barking out incomprehensible commands. I presume those would be the overseers. The other... was a mare’s offtune singing, accompanied by foals..
From the singing and laughter of foals, and the barking of orders, I was not quite sure what to make of this place. Perhaps all the foals in this place were little twisted abominations. The little demons might have been torturing the other prisoners at the command of the overseers!
Or perhaps I was just over-thinking it.
I had attempted to get up on my hooves, only to find that my forelegs were not fully healed. So much for exploration. Still exhausted and aching, I had fallen asleep in time.
The next time I woke up, I was face to face with what I presumed was an overseer.
“Hey, what are yew just sitting ‘round fer?! Git back ta’ work, ya lazy bum!”
My response? I stared at him blankly.
“Oh, ‘Ah git it. Yer the new guy. Welcome ta’ hell. Or, the Moon as ‘Ah like ta’ cawll it.”
He exited the room for a moment, returning with a simple bag and a mining pick. He unceremoniously threw it at me and began to drone about the “honorabible sirvus yew is doing fer the em-pie-yer,” in a monotone voice.
After bearing with his drawn-out speech, he ordered me to open the bag. It was a tattered cloth bag with a single strap, intended for one to hang it around his or her neck, and what appeared to be a reinforced water bottle holder. Inside the main flap were a few items : a sample of the Blue Silver ore, a notebook, two quill pens, and a small filled inkwell. I suppose those are intended for drawing a map or something. The water bottle holder contained a small lantern inside. Yet when I
“This here is how it werks. Yew git that bleu stuff and give it in fer useful stuff from us. If yew work hard, ya may have a life of some sem...balance to us hard-werking ponies!” he bellowed with a hearty laugh, following up with an obnoxious sneer.
Ugh.
He shoved me out of the bed, and directed me towards the left passage. I slowly trudged towards the mine shaft, awaiting a morbid and gloomy future.
The miners groaned as their picks struck the earth, repeating their monotone labor as if they were automatons. The foals were pushing carts filled with useless rubble away. The observers’ expressions were stern and tense. As I stood at my dismal prospects, taking in the new reality, one of the overseers had noticed me.
“‘Ey there! Get back to work!”
Crap.
Looking through my bag, I took out the Blue Silver sample. It seemed just like a sapphire. Using my telekinesis to wield the pick, I chipped away at the areas where I saw blue.
Now, maybe it is my memory failing me as usual, but everypony seemed to be avoiding me. When I had stepped near the rocks, the others took one glance at me, and backed off. As if I had a disease, all the miners within a few feet turned to another section of the rock. Anytime I would try approaching a fellow miner, they would act as if they had some urgent matter to attend to; picking a rock away from me.
I didn’t understand. We were all unicorns and earth ponies here; why was I the one singled out?
The line soon shortened, revealing what appeared to be a trading hub. The overseers were waiting near the tables, which had several items lying on it. The assorted items ranged from basic necessities, to tools and to luxuries. At the front of the line, several miners were attempting to bargain with the guards, plopping their findings of the day onto nearby scales. Once it was my turn, I traded the lantern away for stale bread and a bottle of water. I had knowledge of basic illumination magic; I would manage.
The ponies that had finished were walking into another area. Following them, I soon arrived at a clearing, completely devoid of any furniture. There were several mine shafts also dug into the walls, with a simple wooden sign beside each of the openings. As I trotted slowly by each entrance, I looked over the signs; each stating a single word to state what was past it. Although there was a few oddly named tunnels such as “foal”, “stallion”, and “mare.”
I looked down the child-specific tunnel. The energy there was... somewhat unsettling. You would figure that such dismal condition would bring these little tykes down. Nope.
I... did not want to live with these foals. I’m... bad with other ponies.
I decided to try the other tunnel. Perhaps they would leave me relatively alone. Looking down the adult male-specific tunnel, there were several compartments dug into the wall with what appeared to be an office at the far end. Beside each “room”, there was a sign again; stating a name. As I trotted over towards the office, the stench of alcohol and rotting...something....
By the time I was knocking on the door, I was nauseous from everything.
I do not clearly remember what happened after I had knocked on the door. Perhaps it is because of my poor memory, or because of my nausea...I vaguely remember meeting a mare, but that would be ridiculous. That was the office for the stallions after all...
I woke up later in one of the “rooms” of the corridor; the sign in front read my name, finalizing my place in this world. Starting from that day, I was just another unicorn in Blue Silver Mines. I soon settled into a routine everypony there had followed.
A typical morning starts at around six in the morning, or at least around that time. With a loud THUD of a gong resounding from the office, everypony walked out from their “bedroom”, groaning and exhausted. A brief fifteen minutes for eating and preparing for the day before the pegasi woke up, blowing their whistles in a half-asleep daze. The drowsy overseers would try herding us towards the mineshaft, watching us for any suspicious activity as we struck the earth with picks. The schedule fluctuated at this point, as the chief overseer blew his whistle at his discretion to signal the start of a brief break. Everypony would rush to finish his or her lunch before the chief ate his, who would promptly sound his whistle after. From then, we endured the tiring labor until the screech of the whistle was heard once more. Afterwards, the miners would have free time to do whatever they wished; chat, mine more, trade, sleep, drink, wander, or anything really. There was no clear indication of a curfew, so they would play or drink to their hearts content, so long as they stay out of trouble. I never really had much to do in my spare time. It was just like in the mineshaft; every time I had approached somepony, he or she would get away as fast as possible. I was generally left alone by everypony. But of course, I could never fall asleep awaiting for the next day. The stench from the other “rooms” was too strong for me to bear. As such, I had to do something to make myself collapse in exhaustion, or at least make me tired.
During my first week at Blue Silver Mines, I had decided to make a map in order to get acquainted with the surroundings I was doomed to be with forever. With the supplies that I had received upon arrival, I decided to start drawing out the important parts of the map. Starting from my “room”, I had crafted myself a poorly drawn map of what I had seen so far. It progressed quite nicely, until I had reached drawing out the mineshaft system.
I never had thought the system was of such a magnitude. I usually had followed the others for areas to mine, so I had never really considered its expanse. As I struggled to keep the map detailed of areas where the ore still rested and the various walls, my markings wore the paper and eventually I had ripped the paper.
Imagine my horror. In my fear, I had tried to piece the shreds back together, but I only ended up tearing the paper further. As I stared at the torn-apart pieces...
Well, I do not really remember this part either. Screaming at the top of my lungs, bawling like a foal, whimpering like a lost kitten... perhaps only one of those choices, perhaps all of them.
In any case, in my confused state, I fruitlessly wandered the mineshaft. My surroundings became increasingly unfamiliar as I galloped through the tunnels, and I soon found myself in a cavern.
The cavern was notable for many things. The underground lake, which almost shimmered in the light? The odd mushrooms, giving off a soft neon green light? The abundance of vibrant flowers of several hues and shades? The elusive beams of light, coveted so by those underground?
But at the time, there was something else that had captured my frenzied self’s attention. Or rather, somepony. It was my first time that I had met her. As she approached me, I was still wailing in my confusion. With a few good smacks across my face, she yelled at me.
“Hey, Alca! Snap out of it!”
As soon as I calmed down, I looked up from the dirt floor at her, my face still sore from its beating. I briefly glanced at her, before turning around to survey my surroundings. To my left, there were the glowing mushrooms. The green glow gave the cavern a warm feeling, although I felt a bit peculiar from the mushrooms themselves. To the right, the underground lake stood still. You could hear water pouring into the lake from far back at a steady rate. At the far end of the room, the flora gently swerved back and forth in the few beams of light they received. And this may of been my imagination, but some of the flora and vegetation was covered in what seemed to be blood.
“Is everything alright Alca?”
She stared into my eyes, seemingly searching for something, before giving out a sigh as her head tilted downward, a slight smile on her face.
After we introduced ourselves to each other, I got up onto my hooves, and began circling the room wandering around. She had said something to me, but I do not remember any of that either, nor the idle banter I had told her in response. I was too interested in the surrounding vegetation. I stopped at the mushrooms, ripping one out of the floor.
“So... what is this exactly?”
The Mortar and Pestle.
As thus, I found a new way to spend my free time. Alchemy. On that day, I had plucked a few of the flowers and mushrooms, stuffing them into the bag I had received. Glass bottles were also available for trade, which I feel are necessary for any aspiring alchemist. As I plunked down my bottles and materials onto the stone table in the infirmary, I brought the books from nearby shelves to my attention. Perhaps I could find a book about alchemy and go from there.
Uh. Nope. Not this one. Not this one also. Or this. Okay, on my own for this.
I spent a good while like this within the mine like this. Apparently, I spent... six months? Everyday I would sit down in the infirmary, the glass bottles and my bag beside me, and I would just go on my merry way from there. The various things and concoctions I could make, I listed down within a few sheets of paper. The papers were filled and filled with combinations, notes, mixtures, and everything I had learned from my experience.
I eventually lost the papers though. Whoops...ehehehe...
So, six months, I created many things. Salves. Warmers. Tonics. Disgusting-tasting drinks. And oddly enough, I managed to make poisons.
Pro-Tip for any “aspiring” alchemists out there. Don’t drink the things you think are poison. It was fortunate that I stumbled on an antidote as one of my first creations.
So I lived like this for six months. Wake up, mine, play Alchemist, sleep. Rinse and repeat.
Chapter 3 - Broken Mirror
The mine was different today. No mining. No yelling. No shouting. We were all simply told to return to our living quarters at the next sounding of the gong to wait for further instructions.
The ring of the gong eventually sung out, and with it the confused but somewhat, I suppose content, ponies stepped back towards their rooms. It was a while before the door to the office swung open, and her voice called us in.
“Alright now everypony, today’s special! I managed to work something out between us and them! Come on in, and check this out!”
My room, being one of the most recently created ones, was closest to the door. As such, I was the first to look inside. As my gaze ran from left to right, I first noticed that there were also two mares and quite a number of foals looking inside. The office was connected with the other two tunnels. Huh. Next was that the pony who opened the doors was Celia. I do not remember her being the one in the office. Then again, I do not remember anything from that first visit at all. The yellow mare winked at me before she gestured towards the right. It was a large door, behind her desk. Nothing exceptional about it really.
The others that had peeked inside began to... speak their enthusiasm. That is to say, none at all. Celia quickly put out their flames though, as she pretended to pick somepony out of the crowd.
“No no, that’s not the real thing; it’s what behind it! Now let’s see... ah! You there! Why don’t you push the door open and show everypony the surprise!”
'Pretended' because I think she chose me on purpose.
As she pointed at me and pushed me forward, I could feel everypony’s stares piercing me. I rested my right forehoof on the door, still looking back at Celia with an uncertain look. Her face was speckled with sweat as I could see her forced façade beginning to crack. With a sigh, I turned back towards the door and pushed, making a tiny crack. When I peeked through the crack, I had to shield my eyes before I took in the sight. The other ponies began to murmur, trying to guess what I had seen when Celia chimed in as I stood there baffled, with a newly invigorated zeal. “Weeeelll, what do you see?!”
The murmuring ended as the ponies strained to hear what I had to say.
“Outside.”
Celia sighed, probably expecting a bigger reaction, and turned to the rest of the ponies. She explained to everypony that she had worked on this alone for a while, planning ever since...
Well, she was cut off by the stampede of mares, stallions, and foals alike as they pushed through the cramped office, into me, and out into the former dragon’s den. While yes, the cave was still mostly intact and left as its previous owner had left it, the opening was significantly bigger, giving a slight peek of the sky.
But of course, the opening was guarded. Six armor-clad pegasi stood steadfast at the cave’s mouth, their golden armor almost radiating its brilliant sheen.
Soon as I recovered from the shove, I looked up from the floor, surveying my surroundings.
The guards had their weapons brandished as several ponies were making towards the entrance behind them. Unsurprisingly, all of the charging ponies stopped in their rush, looking at the visible part of the sky wistfully. Celia was beside them, half apologizing and half scolding. In the middle of the cave, many foals and others began to stare hungrily at the food, although four guards were standing around the table. I assume that comes later. And over to the side, were some building materials.
I soon got up and wandered over to Celia, who had made her way to the table and began to explain to everypony what was going on.
“Okay, okay. So... uhm... yeah. Since today’s the Summer Sun Celebration and all, I asked them if we could... you know, spend the day outside. This is...”
Her voice trailed off, as her face grew sad and tired. ‘This is as outside as we get?’ is what I would say what was running through her mind.
The Summer Sun Celebration is set on the longest day of the year, not that I know when it exactly is, where ponies celebrate the gift of the sun and Celestia. Or rather, Pegasi celebrated.
There’s not much to write about until the incident occurred. Celia, clearly exhausted by everything already, managed a weak “Have fun everypony,” before retreating to the office. Most of the foals seemed disinterested in outside, being relatively new to the mine and all. As soon as the guards stepped away from the table and rejoined the ones standing near the entrance, the foals snatched what they wanted and went back inside, presumably to be with Celia. They always did like her.
The remaining group of mares and stallions split up into generally two groups. One group was dining quite peacefully and calmly, chatting and smiling. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, for that matter. From their appearance, I think they were the older ones. The ones who had been here longer; the ones who had learned how the mine worked; the ones.... who had given up. They had become accustomed to their lives as they were now.
The other group were eyeing the guards, periodically whispering to each other. They were visibly irritated, begrudgingly eating the pie on the table, instead of say, throwing it in the guards’ faces. These dissatisfied ponies were the more younger ones, probably still not willing to take what fate hooves to them, opting to retaliate with lemons and the such.
I... was with the former group. I’ve been told I give up too quickly. Whoever said that, was right.
Snatching up a bottle of who knows what and a piece of undefined pie, I backed up far away from the others. I didn’t have anything to say at the time; all the foals were inside, I was not much for conversation, and everypony standing there were adults.
I was alone as usual.
And then... everything just... became mush.
Now uh... even I’m not sure why this happened. I have two theories.
At the time, I had no clue what I picked up. But, if it was an alcoholic drink, that would explain much. I... am bad with alcohol. I’ve been told I’m... emotional. Very emotional. When I'm drunk. So, perhaps this caused it. Although I am a bit suspicious of this theory as well, as the foals would be drinking alcohol too. I doubt that Celia was as thoughtless to only bring these types of drinks. And I would still need some motive for my heinous act.
Er, on another tangent again. Sorry. Anyway...
Before I knew what happened, I was laying on the ground underneath the cover of the brush, near a steady brook. My hooves were painted the crimson red of blood; my bow and two arrows laid beside me with more scarlet stains; and nearby... was the corpse of one of the guards.
I looked down at the lifeless corpse. The crime was done recently, and I its culprit.
Who knows how many I had slain that day? Or rather, who knows who I had slain that day? With a few well-placed arrows, I could of easily ended one of the guard’s lives. With those same arrows, I could of killed one of my fellow miners, who had did naught to deserve the projectiles aiming for his neck. My victims may of been the guard or the miners.
I had become disgusted at myself, and for their death. What purpose did their death serve? Perhaps I could of made it outside by other means, yet, I have done it like this. Completely pointless.
… sorry. Another tangent. Just... trying to... er, never mind. Continuing from before...
I was far away from the underground prison, and I was certainly not going to go back and check. What was to do from here? If I were caught, I was bound to be executed. Or tortured.
I wanted to live.
I cleaned myself within the nearby brook. The blood washed away within its cold but soothing waters. As for the corpse... I took what I thought I needed. Please don’t think badly of me, but I felt and still feel to this day that it was necessary.
This particular guard was quite the greedy pony, much to my fortune. His bag contained a modest amount of bits, but the food he had pilfered from the party? Wow. Some of it was preserved food to my luck. I suppose this is what the guards get often, seeing how the trade tables are only restocked every so often. I stashed it away, along with some other things.
I remember taking a knife, the bits, and several cans. The armor I had left alone, mainly because it did not fit with all of the food and it was far too large for me.
Now, if the pegasi for some reason did not manage to send a distress message, I would still have a chance in that town. I’m unknown there and the shipment to resupply the mine would not be arriving for a while; the food and newly arrived materials probably came from a shipment that had came today. The miners may have also used my... actions to seize control of the mine. Perhaps they are fighting back as I speak or also on the run just as I am.
Hrm... standing around here isn’t going to do anything. Onwards to the village.
My mind eventually wandered towards my future plans as I slowly maneuvered between the foliage. I eventually made up my made to see if anything could be useful from the Forte linage.
Oh, but not the main mansion.
I snuck onto a train back to Canterlot.
This next thing I am going to write about is somewhat... unbelievable.
I threw myself off the train before it reached the final stop in Canterlot.
Ever since Cloudsdale had been destroyed from the war, most of the pegasi were housed here. But one would never actually see them flying about unless he or she looked to the east for the camps and training fields. Including where I trained as well.
The reason why? To the west, was a dragon.
The dragon was not a major problem; it usually left the town undisturbed.
Until Celestia decided to have it slain.
There were many reasons to slay a dragon. Pegasi were stubborn and cocky; a dragon’s death would only add more to boast about. Its slayer was said to receive the title of Solar Guardian, always to stand beside Celestia within her court as her personal. I never really heard of what the supposed “guardian” would, but the honor of slaying a dragon and this “prestigious” title attracted many. The matter of pride was enough to motivate the pegasi, but Celestia herself did not care for that. It was the potential wealth. Dragons collect wealth from their victims, taking bits and baubles as their treasures. Money, for perhaps the royal treasury, used in the war? Aside from the immediate treasure, there was also the matter of Blue Silver. Upon its death, the dragon releases a certain magic, or something, that creates this valuable mineral underneath its corpse. Within the cave, another mine would be established to harvest the ground. The cerulean stone would be eventually refined and forged into the golden armor used for Celestia’s elite troops.
If the dragon’s death would have brought so much, why was it still alive? I have my own musings for this. Perhaps the gryphons were also keeping watch here; any large-scale advance would be noticed and would instead cause a battle; just throw in a dragon roasting both sides. Perhaps pegasi would object to a large group killing the dragon; who is to claim the honor then? Perhaps Celestia was hesitant to send troops for some reason, like leaving an opening for attacks?
Uhm. I should really stop all this rambling...
When I arrived at the mountain where the dragon slept, I found a few tents set up a good distance from the den. I made sure not to alert the lookouts, but I did snag a single shield for my plan.
A dragon’s treasure is his trophy.
No pony could get near to the dragon’s treasure without being promptly roasted to a crisp. So, I did not get close at all. Or rather, I had no reason to. With the small bag of bits I had taken from that guard, I made a small trail leading towards the camp. And with my telekinesis, I snagged a few bits and a brilliant gem from the treasure hoard, tossing it in the camp’s general direction. The dragon awoke to the sight and sound of its prizes rolling away, and promptly stepped outside, where I hid myself with the adult-sized shield.
I assume his gaze followed the path of coins from the resounding roar. The dragon slowly rose up into the sky, preparing to incinerate the camp. I could make out the distant chime of the castle bells, as well as the outlines of approaching pegasus warriors. The dragon made quick work of the camp, as he headed off to confront the city of Canterlot.
I stepped past the burnt remains of the forest, stopping to check on Canterlot every so often, working my way towards my father’s workshop. The blazing lights from the Canterlot buildings were enough to illuminate my way, outlining the abandoned tower in the east.
Like I mentioned before, Scild Forte, or my deceased father had a fondness for 'lesser ponies.' His kindness had made him somewhat of an outcast of society, but he still maintained influence with his inventions. However, when he first attempted to involve Earth Ponies and Unicorns in the war, he was immediately met with anger and rejection. And so, he immediately had this built.
I was surprised to find that it wasn’t covered with massive vines or something similar. For an abandoned tower on the outskirts of the town, you would imagine that it would be messy for quite some time. It seemed the same as it always did whenever I had free time.
How long had it been since my last visit? Perhaps a year? Yes, I believe that was how long ago he had finished his massive project. I had always snuck here whenever I had free time for the trip back and forth. Which to say, not many days at all. Perhaps a day each month? And when the projected had finished... I never returned back.
Well, I suppose that does not matter now...
The ground floor was unsurprisingly cluttered with paper scrolls and small machine components. Some of the wooden tables were flipped over onto their side and the spiral staircase seemed to have taken some damage from a blunt object. I would not be surprised if somepony was sent here to snoop around.
The second floor were my father’s living quarters. He would always pace back and forth within this floor, unless he actually had an idea. For a member of one of the most prestigious families, or at least what used to be, he did not enjoy extravagance as much as other ponies. Quite plain.
And then the third floor. I had never entered through this door and from the looks of it, nopony ever did. In fact, what was this door doing here? This was not here before...
The door appeared to be completely made of Blue Silver and also had visible marks of attempts to break it and remove it. My father must of really wanted to keep somepony out of here. Beside the golden door, there appeared to be a place where one would place their face in. Below the slot, there was a small wooden sign which read “Retina Scanner.” When did my father even invent this or even get this door? In any case, retina refers to... some part of the eye, so I gave the scanner a shot.
A click rung out from the door as it slowly swung open.
The third floor was empty if one ignored the lone chest in the middle. Perhaps something that could be of use to me here?
I threw open the chest’s cover.
At the bottom laid two weapons. One appeared to be a prototype for some firearm. The only strange thing is that it did not seem to be usable by ponies at all. I did not see any external way of triggering a shot, except for this one part but it was impossible to push it with hooves. The other weapon appeared to be a crossbow-like object made of wood and blue silver. A red gem was embedded into the area where string met the bow.
Laying above the arms was my father’s black top hat with its red satin ribbon. I always wanted to don it myself, seeing my father always playing around with it every time he was brainstorming. I even remember once when I asked him to let me try it on. He looked down at me and plopped the hat onto my head, but I was so small at the time that it completely blinded me. I ran around panicking at how everything turned dark, eventually smashing into something. Interestingly enough, that gave him an idea and after snatching back his hat, he pushed me outside and shut the door, saying that he had to work.
In any case, I put it on. In fact, it lays at rest on top of my head as I write this. It has been a while since I took it, so it is quite worn. I try to keep it intact usually.
Besides the weaponry, there was only one item left: a single notebook with ‘Journal’ on the cover. I flipped to the first page, revealing the messy products of his thoughts. Perhaps I could of used these, but at the time I did not make much of them. I kept turning the pages until I found something that interested me, which was at the very last page. I tore that page out and have it here.
To my son. I hope you’re reading this. I tried to make this world a better place. And assuming you’re reading this, I must of failed. I’m sorry. There’s only one thing I can do for you now. If this place won’t change for the better, I’ll get you to a world that already has. Look above you.
Above the chest, there was a small red button on the ceiling. I was too small to reach it at the time, so I got it in my mind to toss the rest of my father’s diary at it.
I don’t remember much at this point either. The room suddenly filled with some gas and...
Here I was.