Golden Age

Chapter 3:

Strange Happenings

“Dude, move your horn.” was what a brown Unicorn sitting in the grand lecture hall had heard. It was a pleasant disturbance from Chancellor Zaracova’s monologue for his father, Cible De Lis, had told him all the details of this assembly. He chuckled to himself, barely containing a hearty laugh as he turned to his rather short classmate behind him.

“Surely you are too kind, mon amis. This horn is a grand et magnifique structure upon my head!” said the stallion gracefully with a thick Prench accent. Today was a good day for Pierre, it wasn’t even his second class and already he was being complimented.

The chancellor was an old but strong Zebra stallion with a calm yet deep, powerful voice, which grabbed the attention of everypony in the room; everypony that is, except for Pierre De Lis. Unlike many of the senior staff with the exception of Monsieur Cible, Zaracova wore a decorated black cap and gown, with a golden tassel.

“Canterlot University is blessed with the honor of holding onto the archives. The archives symbolize knowledge and education, a privilege of power which we grant to you.” Dictated the Zebra as he scanned the crowd, two hooves flat upon the pedestal. “That is why,” he began, “anypony here who has defiled the archives will not be punished should they willingly plead their guilt.”

Raising his eyebrows slightly, he scanned the crowd, and stopped at Pierre, who leaned forward boredom and fatigue.

For Pierre the room was dead silent, and nopony was complimenting his horn. If the archives were such a blessing to the students, why is it off-limits? Perhaps I should take this opportunity to explain this fine point to him now, so I may show my wit to the entirety of the university! He began to take a stand.

Zacarova gave Pierre a stern glance, predicting the sophomore’s next move as he began to stand up. Fortunately for the sake of everypony in the room, Pierre sat back down.

Perhaps another day, I will get you! Pierre thought to himself, fantasizing about stumping the chancellor, solidifying himself into the history of the university. For better or worse, it mattered not to Pierre. He only cared that he would be known by thousands of ponies for years.

The chancellor went on his lecture, eloquently structuring his phrases as he went on. “However, should the perpetrator be found against their will, they will be severely punished. Such an infraction ascends university policy, nay, it is a violation of second-tier federal law. You are aware of what that entails. Additionally, should the perpetrator admit his or her crime, they will not be reported to the state.” He again scanned over the crowd. Given his knowledge in psychology, there were no obvious signs of suspicions, and he knew of Pierre’s antics. “I wish each of you a good day.”

. . .

Later that day, Pierre sat in a mathematics class. The professor, a Unicorn stallion with glasses, held a piece of chalk and an eraser both with his magic; erasing as he wrote, rambling on about figures.

Most students wrote furiously as the professor recited formulas and terms, though two students did not. One of which obviously being Pierre who had trusted the entirety of the sixty minutes of class to his memory. The other was Rauna, who sat next to him in confusion.

“And that is that. Have you all got that? Because I have a homework assignment,” the professor began. “This will be the first and only time you use your textbook in the semester. There is an assignment on page one-hundred and twenty-seven, numbers twenty-five through thirty.”

At this the two Unicorns stood and left the room. Pierre noticed the mare had been trotting behind him, and at this he slowed his pace, giving a hearty Prench chuckle.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle! I have noticed you’ve been seeking the attençión of I, Pierre!”

Rauna smiled, showing a set of perfect white teeth. Pierre acknowledged immediately that they were better than the teeth of Trottingham mares. “Hi, Pierre! I’ve heard a bit about you,”

Pierre could barely contain a prideful smile accompanied by his signature Prench laugh. He knew the mare before him was a freshman, and news of his glory spreading to the younger ponies was a good sign.

She continued, oblivious to Pierre’s vainglory. “I’m guessing you don’t understand much of that class either, though. I’m thinking we could try to, y’know, study together, work on the materials--”

Pierre let out a callous Prench laugh, surprised by the mare’s foolish insinuation, “Mademoiselle, you are surely joking with me! I, Pierre, am well-versed in all fields of academia. I merely have no need to take any notes,” the Prenchman pointed a hoof to his head, beaming with the confidence of a god, “it is all in here.”

Rauna’s eyes lit up, believing Pierre as much as he believed himself. “Oh, then you could really help me out. I don’t understand a thing in that class, please, I need your help!”

The mare needed his help. No, not just his help. She needed Pierre. Now the upper hoof was entirely his. Raising a hoof skyward he declared, “Mademoiselle, we shall report to my dorm immediately!”

Rauna cocked her head sideways in confusion, “Uh... can’t we just go to the library? It’s a great place to chill and work.”

In Pierre’s world, the upper hoof was still his, it was always his. However, he knew of the games and tricks which mares played. To him it was a challenge, one which he would valiantly accept.

“Oh, I see your position, mademoiselle. Very well.” Pierre said, reluctantly complying with the mare’s request. She trotted forward, leading the way, Pierre bit his lip, admiring Rauna’s features. Grand cible! He mentally shouted. And with that, he followed her down the hallways.

. . .

Pierre sat bored in the marble halls of the library, underneath a vaulted ceiling decorated with hexagonal patterns. Around him were endless halls of shelves, and oaken tables of students absorbed into their studies.

Sadly it seemed he would not be getting any flank tonight. The mare sat on the other end of the table, buried in her homework. Giving himself “time to think”, Pierre browsed the internet, particularly the Ministry of Media’s website. He clicked today’s video link.

The screen went dark, save for the emblem of a single eye sided by two columns. It was the emblem of Equestria’s flag, though in this case a line progressed around the eye, signifying that the video was loading. Suddenly, the screen flashed white, followed by footage of the newsroom with the blond mare.

“Hello everypony, this is Fact Turner with breaking news on the homefront,” she began, with a warm smile, her eyes half-shut as she stared almost seductively into the camera yet maintaining her usual figure of professionalism.

“Last night, the queen of the Crystal Empire reported that she will not peacefully surrender to Equestria. Now, Prime Minister Watchful Eye is prepared to give an address to the ponies of Equestria and the Crystal Empire.”

The news clip cut to a podium with the Equestrian emblem blazoned in gold over a silver background. A tall dark grey Unicorn stallion in a black three piece suit stood at the podium, hooves held together.

“Greetings, citizens of Equestria. Last night the queen of the Crystal Empire refused a surrender, which would have resulted in a cease-fire agreement between our two nations.” With blue eyes, he stared below the lens of the camera, as though addressing a crowd. “However, there is no need to worry. For the past ten years, we have been developing a super-weapon, one which will end the conflict without any need to send reinforcements.” Adjusting his gaze towards the camera lens, he said with a smile “Within the next few weeks, our soldiers will finally be coming home.”

§

“Twenty nine,” Cloud Runner breathed, hoisting his body upwards until his chin was well over a bar in the doorway; then slowly descending, still grasping the bar. He pulled himself above the bar once more, feeling the fatigue of his left arm and resistors in the right attempting to match the fatigue as to assure a balance of strength between both limbs.

“Thirty,” he told himself as he finally managed the pull-up. In the corner of his vision, he could see the number thirty blinking. Though the workout program counted his reps for him, he could not break the military habit of counting them aloud. He slowly lowered himself, releasing his grasp on the bar. “End tuesday’s program.” He said to himself. Just then, the flashing thirty disappeared.

Morning workout’s finished, time to get down to business. He thought to himself, turning around to a desk behind him with a glass computer monitor resting on top. He trotted to the desk and activated the computer, hearing the workings of its mechanical innards akin to the processors put inside his own head.

It seemed modern technology, despite its advancements, always took longer to load. While the computer ran startup programs, he turned to a drawer on the desk. Amongst a plethora of miscellaneous items was a framed photograph, turned-face down. Pulling the picture from the depths of the drawer, he turned it over, staring.

Staring back at him were three teenage ponies in a dark room illuminated with multi-colored lights, two stallions wearing tuxedos and a mare in an elegant silver dress. It was Star Charmer, and there young Cloud Runner was, in the height of senior year, standing between Charmer and Slate: Charmer's date. Cloud had his arms over both of them, smiling happily at the photographer in the bliss of what had been one of the best nights of his life.

The monitor came to life, automatically opening the email application and grabbing Cloud’s attention. The inbox was entirely empty save for two messages, the first of which’s subject read “San Polomino closed”.

It was from one of his clients, Web-Master. He didn’t live too far away, only about a block and a half, but several thousand floors down. Web was always thinking of conspiracies, most of which Cloud Runner could dismiss as untrue. Some were even far-fetched as a plot by Watchful Eye to eliminate distinctions between the three pony races and assimilate them all into drones.

Regardless, Web had some value. He knew more of subterranean Equestria better than anypony else, being an engineer on underground urban complexes. Cloud rested his head on a hoof, reluctantly opening the email. Just then he remembered another reason why he disliked Web-Master as he read the message.

‘Hey Cog, i wuz sittin round wit sum bros watching the gaem last night, then at halftiem my cuz from appleloosa txts and tells me they closed down the highway to san polomino. he says dey got mililocal all ova the damn place, cant get txts anymore cos they cut em off last night.

Herws the crazy thing tho: my cuz was saying things bout rumblin an bright flashes in the desert, an more stangers than usual comin in & out of town. wanted 2 know if u herd anythin.

~Webz’

Web-Master was smart, sure, but typed like an idiot. Cloud assured himself that the rumbling and bright flashes were most likely just weapons tests and they might be working a bit closer to AppleLoosa than usual. It wasn’t as important as the archives. Not as important as Charmer.

The picture caught his eye once more, looking at Charmer in her beautiful dress. That was three years ago, a lot had happened since then. After everything she’d done... No, he made a promise, and he was going to keep it. He moved the mouse over the internet application, opening a browser.

“Time to find this Starrynight Beard,” he told himself. Quickly typing away at the golden holographic keys on the desk, he entered the name through Labyrinth: the primary search engine of the internet.

Hours passed. When he had started, it was only six o’clock in the morning. Now, looking out the window, Cloud Runner could see rays of sunlight penetrating the thick cover of towers. Given the light in the lower city, it would have to have be about two o’clock in the afternoon.

Eight hours, and he had found little more than official records on Starry and his Stable account. He was the former professor of arcane arts and history, currently in his forties though capable of incredibly powerful magic. And, he’d been officially kicked out of the academy for three counts of drunken conduct and attempting to open the archive vault.

After reading the word “attempting”, Cloud was ready to give up. Anything about Starry actually opening the vault was probably little more than a rumor, especially if he was drunk. Alcohol has a tendency to weaken spells and most forms of magic, along with several adverse affects on telekinesis.

Though it seemed the net administrators tried to keep as much of Starry’s official records off the web as possible. On other ponies, he could find this information in a fraction of the time it took for Starry, and an unemployed drunk like him should be of no concern to the council. Unless he wasn’t a drunk, maybe there was something more about this Starrynight Beard.

And maybe he knew somepony with answers.

. . .

For decades, modern Equestria prided itself on its multicultural society. While the nation had always consisted of different races and ethnic groups for centuries, many small villages and even the capital city Canterlot remained roughly untouched by most non-Equestrian cultures. This was seen as a flaw; a fault of an elitist society.

Cloud Runner trekked down the sidewalk of the multicultural district. Despite the “pride of diversity” as Watchful Eye called it, the place was a dump. Wind blew wrappers and papers past Cloud’s feet, carrying a light smell of garbage countered only by the aroma of freshly baked goods. Very few signs on the buildings were in Equiish or Prench, most were Bitalian, Arabic, Stalliongradi or even Zebrican. Two foals ran past him, laughing while a Saddle Arabian merchant screamed in his home tongue, interspersed with Equiish calls such as “thieves!” and “rascals!”. A Zebra decorated with golden jewelry leaned against a brick wall, suspiciously eyeing the Pegasus as he walked by.

Cloud was about to walk past the Zebra when he stepped in his path, giving a callous smile.

“Yo, coat, where you goin’?” Asked the Zebra, sizing up the indifferent Pegasus.

“Grabbing a bite to eat.” Cloud plainly replied. A text box appeared in the corner of his vision, listing the Zebra as an alpha personality type, a grid measuring hostility. Chances are, he was going to be mugged. He almost felt sorry for the kid.

“Mhm,” the Zebra remarked, “So you’s got money on ya. Thing is, with that fancy coat an eye-piece, Imma assume you got enough to go ‘round.” With that, the Zebra produced a knife in his left hoof. With a yell he lunged forward, swinging at Cloud.

Cloud’s response was instantaneous, blocking the knife with his metal wing, slapping it out of the surprised Zebra’s hand. Left hook into the jaw; disorienting the attacker. Side-step then  pivot, bucking the Zebra into the brick wall.

There was a thud and a thwack, accompanied by the sound of cracking bones as the Zebra was pushed into the brick wall, cracks forming in the wall around him. He fell to the ground, laying on his side and still breathing.

The Zebra’s torso blinked red on Cloud’s HUD, a display of a ribcage appeared in the bottom left corner of his vision, highlighting ribs which had been broken. The display disappeared, the skull was highlighted green.

The message ‘ZERO BRAIN DAMAGE’ appeared in the center of the HUD. “Don’t steal. And know who you’re up against next time.” Said Cloud Runner. He then carried on down the sidewalk.

Finally, the stallion had approached a building with green, white, and red awning, the scent of freshly baked pizza washing over him. Sitting at a table was a tall white stallion, with bright blue eyes, gelled jet-black mane, and a stylish Bitalian suit. He waved to Cloud Runner.

“Hey, Cloud! I gots us a table!” The stallion yelled in a thick Manehatten accent. Cloud sat down at the table, the waiter brought to them a full-sized, thinly cut pizza. “Thanks, Pete. Cloud, it’s been forever and a half since I last seen you, howya been?”

“I’ve been alright, Francesco. Better or worse. The information business in Canterlot hasn’t fallen, I assume?” Cloud asked. He knew that Francesco had connections all over Equestria, though time seems to be eroding things.

Francesco shrugged. “Canterlot’s goin’ down quickly, same as everywhere else. The new equality programs ain’t exactly helpin’ the business launder, so we got a slower income. Uncle’s thinkin’ of getting us into transportation, shipping. We’ll need more fronts if we wanna be back at optimal, y’know what I’m saying?”

Cloud grabbed for a slice of the pizza. They’d made it the same way for years, despite all the change. “Yeah, we’ve all got problems,” he said somewhat dismissively. “I’m looking for a stallion named Starrynight Beard.”

“The ex-professor!” Francesco exclaimed. “He ain’t doin’ much, just lives on the outskirts of lower city. We helped him get sneak some things outta the university when he was kicked out.”

“Like what?” Cloud inquired, “they didn’t let him take anything out?”

Francesco checked his surroundings before speaking. “He’s been stashing magical devices an’ ancient texts. Shit from the diarch period.”

“What’s he doing with magical devices? More importantly, how was he keeping them on university grounds?”

Francesco leaned in a bit closer. “That’s the thing, apparently he’s related to some old wizard from the first golden age. Starspin or somethin’.”

“Starswirl the Bearded?”

“Yeh, him.” Francesco laughed, “Some crazy fuckin’ names they had back then.” He sat back, lifting a slice of pizza into his mouth, talking as he chewed, “Sho what’s so important ‘bout Shtarry?”

“Charmer.”

Francesco swallowed, looking his friend in the eye. “Come again?”

Cloud Runner took a deep breath, “Star Charmer. You remember her from high school.”

“Oh, right. Her. She doin’ okay? I know what happened was years ago, but I know she’s an emotional mare.” Realization hit Francesco. “Oh, right. Everything okay between you two?”

“I guess better than before. Apparently what happened was Charmer found out that somepony got the archive doors open, and she found a document from Twilight Sparkle that had been placed there.”

The Earth-pony laughed again, “Y’know I like Charmer. I respect her a lot, she’s a great kid, so I mean no offense at all when I say that if I were you I’d have told her to go fuck herself. I mean, after what she did to you, she’s askin’ for help? You’re real loyal, y’know that?”

He was loyal. He had to be, because he promised to be there for her. Regardless of what she did, she was still his responsibility. “Yeah, I guess I am. I still wonder if it’s the right option, but I can’t deny that she’s onto something big. The essay she found was about the first golden age and the pre-democratic society. Things the state would want hidden.”

“So, you wanna find out who broke in an’ get a reward?”

Cloud smiled, sitting back. “No,” he looked around the terrace in case anypony was listening. “We’re going to be breaking in. And Starry’s the only pony we know of that can do it.

Francesco chuckled, finishing another slice. “I’ll get right on finding Starry for ya. Want me to find him or bring him to you?”

“I just need his address, not his tail.”

“You sure? I can get it to ya frozen, on a satin pillow…” Francesco chuckled, then sighed. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you an address on one condition,” the Earth-pony stated. “You bring me along for this little heist of yours. The Pavarotti family needs some money, maybe I can take a few things and sell them back.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. Despite the potential danger to the mission, Francesco knew the advantage he had. He’d just have to work with it.

“Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

§

“Charmer! C’mon, Star, get up!”

Star Charmer felt hooves pushing against her side, she further buried her head into the soft and inviting pillows. The hard spring mattress felt unusually comfortable. She felt Rauna’s hooves shake her once more.

“The Chancellor’s called for an assembly this morning. Remember, I texted you about it last night?” She stopped, settling on her haunches at Star’s bedside. The groggy mare pushed herself up, supporting herself with her forearms.

“How late were you out last night?” Rauna inquired, an eyebrow raised.

Charmer turned to her friend, ready to sink back into the pillows. “Four o’clock.”

“Four o’clock!?” shouted the Unicorn. “What were you doing out in the lower city that late!?

Charmer slid her hooves forward, resting her head in the pillows. “Just... working.”

“Oh no, I know your family isn’t that wealthy, but there’s plenty of jobs up here, you don’t have to--”

“No, Rauna.” Charmer laid back in her bed, rolling over onto her back. “It wasn’t that kind of work. I-I’ll tell you about it later.”

Rauna put a hoof to her chin, tapping a lower hoof on the ground while she thought. “Tell you what, Star, they aren’t gonna notice you being gone. I’ll tell you what happened, you stay in bed for a little longer.”

“Thanks, Rauna.” Charmer mumbled as she turned over.

With that, Rauna left the room. Charmer continued to lay in bed, not quite able to sleep yet. She turned over, facing the wall covered in posters. Most were brightly colored posters featuring coltbands of young manicured stallions, though one poster stuck out.

It was a black poster of two grey-coated ponies, a Unicorn stallion and a slender young Pegasus mare, both wearing two electronic masks while standing at a turntable. They stood in front of a wall of shattering red glass, translucent fragments flying towards the viewer creating a hole in the black background overlooking an expansive black and red cityscape. The words on top in bold, red font read “01001010 & 01010100: ‘Freedom’”.

. . .

The poster stared back at Charmer, though this was not in her dorm.  She lay under the quilt of a bed, her lavender mane messed up. From two speaker towers tall as Cloud Runner techno music filled the air. It was the kind of music one would dance to at an illegal gathering; a dissonance of individually high-pitched and intrusive rings and beeps synergizing into a harmonious rhythm set by deep electronic thuds. A synthesizer played a symphonic melody accompanying the rhythmic bass and dissonant beeps.

The door opened revealing a familiar white-coated Unicorn stallion with an orange mane. “Just had to check on some things,” Slate said as he trotted over to the bed, straightening Charmer’s mane.

She smiled. He had left her in the bed without ceremony, so his unexpected leave was quite curious. “Like what?” She asked, almost giggling.

He smiled back at her, now tussling her thin mane, the blue stripe now mixed with the rest of the lavender.

“Stooooop!” She protested weakly, pulling her head slightly away from the stallion’s hoof. He laughed, playfully persisting. Smiling he leaned into her ear.

“I’m gonna mess up your mane, and there’s really not all that much you can’t do about it.” He quirkily remarked.

She grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling his thin body onto the mattress with her. Quickly, she rolled on top of him, their waists tangled in the covers while she pinned him down. Though not by that much, Charmer was bigger than the stallion however shorter. A smile set on her face as she stared down at the helpless stallion.

“C’mon, another round, Slate?” She asked, seductively lowering herself onto him. Their lips, met, she could feel his tongue in her mouth as he reached a hoof over her back and then--

An alarm rang. A notification tone from the computer on the desk. Three loud, repetitive beats playing from the speaker towers, interrupting the entrancing electronic music. Their lips parted, he looked sadly towards the computer screen. He turned back to her, barely meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Slate...”

“You know I can’t tell you, not yet.”

She didn’t get off of him. Rather, she simply laid her head against his chest. She could feel his heartbeat and hers, both beating at different rhythms. “Tell me something.”

He sighed, it’d worked. She learned long ago that yelling and making accusations as most mares do would get her nowhere with Slate. She looked up at him, he began to run his hoof through her mane.

“There’s something big I’m onto. I don’t know if it’s really there or not, and I don’t want to say anything until I know for certain. But if I’m right...” He fell silent, she could feel her heart beating in unison with his. They heard the sound of engines outside. It was a sky car, fairly common amongst the wealthy and upper class. Not uncommon in this part of Canterlot. “I’ve gotta go.”

She slid off of him, letting him climb out of the bed, fixing his mane slightly. He picked up a leather jacket from the chair at the desk with his magic, putting it on. Charmer followed him out of bed.

“Spend the night, if you’d like.” He offered. Charmer shook her head.

“I need to get back home, y’know, parents.” She explained. He smiled lightly, not meeting her gaze. “Of course.”

With that, he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close. He pressed his face against the side of hers, then kissing her on the cheek. “I love you.”

She smiled. Still, after three years of dating, she felt like an excited foal whenever he said that to her. “I love you, too.” She said. Suddenly, she felt something settle along her back. As they pulled away, she noticed that she was wearing Slate’s jacket.

“It’s cold out,” he said. Then trotted out the door. He leaned back in, “just wanted to say again that I love you. I love you, Star Charmer. Can’t say it enough, I love you.”

She laughed, flattered by her boyfriend’s quirky sentiment. “Love you too, Slate!” He smiled, then trotted out the room, down the stairs.