Daring to dream

by James Vermont

Rating: teen
Tags: Comedy, Romance, Adventure, Tragedy
Length: 1608

The life and death of Daring Do. As told by her closest friend, he tells the story of their meeting and their many, many adventures together.

“she was the best, the brightest and the most… the… She… I'm sorry, she… she was…” I couldn't continue, my throat caught itself, my breath wheezed out, my eyes watered and I hung my head in shame; the fez I wore tumbling from my head, hitting the ground with a gentle thud and bouncing, once, twice and then falling, down, down, down into the hole. The hole. She had spent her life opening tombs built for emperors and kings, grandiose and marvellous halls underground, built with such grace and splendour. And all she got, was a hole. No, she was the best pony that had lived. No one was better than her… She deserved for than this. This sad little funeral, attended by myself and three other ponies? And my, her closest friend, and I couldn't even find the right words to describe her…

“There are no words, really, to describe this mare. Nothing can ever replace her. No one can ever do what she did. And… I loved her. I never got the chance to tell it to her face. She deserved to know, she, deserved a lot of things.”

I turned to the table behind me and clasped my teeth gently around the edges of the Pith hat. She loved that damn hat, never once let it out of her sight. Except… I couldn't bare to pass that thought through my mind, so I went towards the hole, I stared down into the black, consuming maw of the pit that had claimed my friend. And I opened my jaw, it slacked, and the hat fell into the darkness. Soon, a wave of emotion and a flood of tears fell down into the pit to join the hat, my fez and the greatest pony I have ever known.

Her name was Daring Do. And I will tell her story.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-08-15 19:40:02 UTC

Curious Eyes

“Now this, this looks lovely.” I bent my head down to examine the hat, it was a red Fez. Amongst all the other bits and bobs the stall owner had this was the one that caught my eye. I considered it for a second, stroking my goatee, as if it stimulated my mind. My mother was always quick to point it out, and although I was aware, at that point, of the mannerism; it continued to grow. That was all a long time ago of course, I hadn't lived with my mother for many years, unusual for a writer, as most of us live lives in utter poverty in our parents basement. But not me, no. I was not one of the top ranked writers, but I had sold well enough for me to live in comfort, and to take this research trip to Saddle Arabia. I had come to this valley of sands and ruins to find inspiration, and all I was trying to find now were my bits to pay for that fez.

“One second” I told the stall owner, he just smiled back knowlingly, I assmued he was used to travellers making up their minds. Little did I know that there was a blasted pickpocket going through my bag, so when I turned my head to search within it myself, I spotted the little sod.

“Oi! What do you think you're doing?” The young pony looked up at me, winked and sprinted off, a bag of my bits in his mouth. “Oh you're kidding me.” I turned and galloped after him, under stalls, past people and around corners. I was gaining on him, I had him in my...

“WOOOAAAAHHH!”

I ran straight into somepony, she appeared to be chasing somepony as well, because she leapt to her feet, not even stopping to glare at me and galloped down another corridor.

“Guess that kid isn't the only pickpocket about” I told myself, getting off the floor and looking around. It took me a few seconds but I spotted the culprit soon enough, an earth Pony, purplish in colour, running on the wall.

“Bad move kid” I said as I spread my wings and took off into the air. I quite disliked flying, and to this day I prefer the solid ground. But it has it's advantages, like right now. Within seconds I was ontop of the kid, slamming into him and shoving him off the wall and onto the other side of it. The boy landed on another pony who had also been running. That pony was older, bearded, he dropped a sack from his mouth, it made a loud thunk sound. My own little pickpocket was trying to pick himself off the ground when I pinned him right back down.

“Oh no you don't. I'll be taking my bits back now.”

The boy looked up at me and I got my first good look at him. No wonder I caught him so easily, he was a twig. The poor child looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. Anger was replaced with a slight mistrust but mostly a sense of pity. I took back my bits and dropped a generous portion into his outstretched hoof. I smiled down at him as his eyes widened and he galloped off. As this happened I turned my head, the other pony we had knocked down was picking himself up. I held out a hoof.

“Sorry about that, need a hoof?”

He ignored me and stood up, picking up his bag. “You should be more careful next time” He told me in a heavy accent.

“I'm ever so sorry, I was chasing a...” The other pony was already on his way, at pace.

“You idiot!” I turned my head to find the source of the unfriendly voice, it was the Pony I had knocked over earlier. She was not happy. She was wearing some sort of, explorers outfit and a Pith Hat on her head. She had a brown coat, a grey mane and quite powerful looking wings. I let my eyes wonder down, not a bad side of legs either.

“Hey! Are you even listening to me goat boy?”

I stroked the goatee, a little selfconciously this time.

“What is the problem?” I tried my best to apply my manners, but somehow I felt this would have no effect on this pony. Hmmm, I must say her... No, no, back to the situation at hand. I looked up and into her eyes, no no no that was even worse. I can't explain it, but I looked right into her eyes and there was... wow... an ocean of emotion, a forest of stories, of life and there was a mind inside there. Something with potential.

“The problem is that you knocked me over, and then you helped that thief get away!” This mare was right up in my face now, she was young, younger than I was even. But she was just as tall as  I was, and a tertiary glance, and a few more glances, and a good stare at her body told me she was in pique physical condition, something I was not in.

“Oh I'm.. I'm sorry about that. I didn't realise that...”

“Of course you didn't realise it.” She snorted. “Tourist”

She was beautiful, but she was rude. She pushed right past me, but I turned quickly and walked right next to her, to make a point of my own frustrations.

“Hey I was chasing my own little thief princess, and for your information I am not here for pleasure I'm here for work.”

She raised an eyebrow at my little outburst. She herself, I could see, was trying to keep a cool disposition, but something was letting her own frustrations and difficulties slip through... Ah, there it was. She was just as inexperienced as I was... maybe not AS much. But she was new to this.

“It's your first time here then goat boy? Me too.”

I put out my hoof. She ignored it.

“And I hope you don't expect any pleasure on the next few days, because you're not getting anything from me.”

And now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

“And what makes you think we'll be spending time together?”

She turned her head to face me, her eyes hardened.

“You let that thief get away with my things. You're going to help me get it back.”

“Oh am I?” I turned my voice to something more playful, it was not returned.

“It's either that or I'll tell every other pickpocket in this market that you're giving out money, they'll be on you begging in seconds.”

“You win, where do we start?”

“We won't find him now. But he'll need to law low for a while, so he can find a buyer.”

“A buyer for what?”

“I think the less you know, the better.”

I sighed, but nodded my agreement.

“Fair enough. So your plan is to wait for him?”

She nodded, keeping her head forward and weaving her way through the people, having less trouble navigating through the crowd than I was, but I could see she was struggling. That façade wasn't fool proof, and there was concern in those eyes... My Faust they were beautiful, they were dull and bright all at once, there was so much in them, I could pick their secrets apart for years. Little did I know that I would spend the next few years doing exactly that.

“I'll speak to some of the colts and fillies in the market, they hear and see everything. For the right price they make for excellent eyes.”

Not better than yours... no, focus dammit focus

“So, you still want my help?”

“If I didn't you wouldn't be here right now.”

“I think you want company.” I ventured.

“And I think you should watch your tongue before someone cuts it off”

My eyes widened slightly...

“Violent” There was no response from her... There we go, she made her mistake right there. She had nothing to follow up with at all. It was an act, why was she trying to hide? What was she trying to hide? She fascinated me. I had to find out more.

“Then, we go looking for this thief tomorrow?”

“That's the plan”

“Where should we meet up?”

She stopped suddenly and pointed at the stall I had been at.

“The one with all the ridiculous hats.”

Time to be brave.

“So you don't like Fez's? I was thinking of buying one.”

She gave a look that spoke for itself.

“Goat boy, have you seen yourself? Between the fake beard and the gravity defying mane you've got going on there I think the last thing you need is an excentric hat.”

The corners of my mouth twitched.

“Maybe I like eccentric. I know the ladies do.”

She shook her head with the slightest touch of a smile, that she did her best to conceal.

“tell you what goat boy, help me find this thief and I'll buy you the hat myself”

This was my chance.

“And in return for the hat I'll buy you dinner.”

Come on... Come on...

“Loose the beard and we'll talk” She was really trying hard to keep that smile from being seen.

“Worth it.” I replied. Not hiding my smile at all. “And please don't call me goat boy.”

“Please introduce yourself and I won't have to.” She replied, a sharp tongue and quick wit? I like her.

“I'm Vermont.”

She finally let the smile come to life, it was small, but it was there.

“I'm Daring, Daring Do.”