Cygnus

CYGNUS

Passage I

-The Way the Wind Blows-

Prelude

The stars have always captivated me. I never understood why, but I've always derived a certain comfort, if not a cold one, in thinking that there were other worlds out there, worlds that shared the space between each other in almost unanimous ignorance, blissfully unaware of my fetishism towards them. I couldn't help but wonder what life must be like on another world.

Did they look up at the same stars and see the same constellations, rearranged by the effects of time and distance?

Did they dream about interacting with the other worlds around them?

Or did they even notice the stars through the fog of their own busy lives? So many possibilities!

But at the end of each sleepless night, as I came to rest on the hillside near the family farm just beyond the lights of the nearest village, Barrel Arbor, I felt the same sense of wonder and amazement dissolve into begrudged compliance with the rising of the sun. A gentle breeze would tickle my nose as I lay in the tall grass, watching the stars melt into the new day. The words I had been taught since before I could recall echoed through my head as my thoughts lingered on the worlds beyond my own. Any curiosity I had concerning the lives of other ponies on other planets that were impossibly far away was always met with the same words.

We live in the best of all possible worlds. Whatever happens to us must be what we deserve, for it could not happen if we did not deserve it. Trust in our loving Watchmare. All is for the best.

Yet I wondered, in the wee hours of the morning, if these words were true. I felt I had reason to question them. My biological parents left me in the care of a few distant relatives here, miles from the place of my birth, Crown City. I couldn't recall memories of either of them, and I grew up believing that Uncle and Aunt Wheatgrass were my true parents. But as a young colt, I learned of my heritage when 'father' (as I knew him) pulled me aside one day and explained to me that there had been an accident during one of his seafaring voyages, and that my father, my true father, was among the dead accounted for. My real mother had seen him off at the port in Crown City, but she was nowhere to be found when news of the accident reached Barrel Arbor.

Afterword, I developed insomnia. At first it came in small, irregular bouts, and it was merely a hindrance that would leave me feeling a bit tired in the mornings, which tiredness eventually wore off after breakfast. But, as the months went by, I began to lose several hours of sleep to the odd hell of restlessness, and I would find myself trotting across the moonlight on the bedroom floor*, as if each hoof step was slowly trampling my insomnia into exhaustion, eventually catching a few unfettered hours of shuteye before the alarm clock went off at precisely the same time each morning.

Finally, as I began taking on 'responsibilities' on the farm as a colt at the age of eight, I found myself unable to sleep at all. I began spending my time gazing out my window at the night sky. Initially I saw stars as nothing more than a scattering of meaningless, luminescent specks against the night, but soon I began to notice patterns, little regularities that would appear each night. As I took to reading in an effort to pass the night, I learned from The Watchmare's Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Synchronize Your Stars!) that these patterns were constellations. According to the Watchmare, each star, like ponies, had a name and a place in a constellation. Some stars even had worlds of their own, orbiting them with clockwork precision. Each one had an individual story, as well as its own proper place in the night sky, as part of the Watchmare's grand plan. It did not seem surprising, since the same plan of order and perfection was what I had been brought up to believe.

And what did I believe? The same thing every other pony in Paradiso did.

We live in the best of all possible worlds. Whatever happens to us must be what we deserve, for it could not happen if we did not deserve it. Trust in our loving Watchmare. All is for the best.

So it was, and so I believed. Every pony and everything had its place, whether it was in Paradiso, or in the Heavens, and it was not right to question my life. And yet, I could not help it. I found myself curious, under the night sky, as to why my parents had abandoned me. What were they like? I wondered why I could never catch more than a few uneasy minutes of sleep, what the Otherworlds were like, and how, above all, these things fit into the Watchmare's plan. After the first few chastisements I received from my aunt, I learned well and good not to question further, at least not aloud.

'It is the Watchmare's to cast the lots, and yours to accept your fate,' she would retort when she caught me wondering. But I never understood why I accepted the lot I'd been cast.

I had no formal education, although Aunt Wheatgrass taught me on occasion, when she wasn't caring for her six fillies. Her six biological fillies. They kept her busy, and often that meant I would find myself alone, left to my own devices, when I wasn't working with the potatoes in the garden. I spent many such sleepless nights learning fundamental magic from uncle's untouched library, if one could indeed refer to a sagging bookshelf as a 'library'. I was often surprised when I taught myself a new spell. I hadn't learned anything beyond basic telekinesis, something that was inherent in almost all unicorns. But soon I began to grasp others, such as illumination, although more often than not, the lack of guidance from a skilled teacher often resulted in very weak spells at best.

One such sleepless night I was attempting to grasp a basic transformation spell. I had spent many hours under my bedroom window, focusing on a pebble I wished to turn into a bean. There were other methods beyond magic, as The Watchmare's Guide to Elemental Telepathy* explained, such as alchemy, but they were normally reserved for more valuable, intricate purposes. I focused and meditated for much of the night, exerting as much energy I could into the simple pebble, and, when finally met with success, felt exhausted to the point I simply collapsed and fell asleep. When I awoke the next day, I was disappointed to see the bean simply ceased to be a bean and continued life as a pebble.

As the nights wore on I came to rely on transforming the pebble back and forth to tire me out enough to get the most sleep I'd had in a long time. Eventually, however, I began to expend less and less energy to do so, and soon I was back to spending the nights staring at the sky. I was inwardly grateful that my uncle only required me to tend to the potatoes, and nothing more. He seemed to prefer doing all the work on the farm by himself, despite the fact he could not rely on tricks like levitation to ease things along. It was all he could do to keep me from testing my magical abilities on the livestock he kept. Many such spells I experimented on the chickens with were learned from tomes he collected before he lost his horn and eventually settled down on the farm. I asked him one day what had happened, and he muttered the same mantra to me.

'I deserved it.'

Upon asking what he had done to deserve it, he chased me off to dig at the dirt for a few hours and perhaps gather a few potatoes for the night's dinner. It was all I seemed good for, between my constant exhaustion and knack for magical mishaps. Yes, life on the farm was quiet and peaceful, if almost completely void of any excitement, but such was my place in the Watchmare's grand plan. And, being the good little pony I was, I would remain content to live out my life trusting in Her judgment.

Until one night, when I came across a volume titled The Watchmare's Glorious Clockwork Angels. The book detailed eight magnificent stone deities with powers beyond that of any other pony, save the Watchmare herself. Two for each of the elements; earth, wind, fire, and water. Two appeared to be earth ponies, two were pegasi, and two were unicorns like me. The final two represented an amalgam of three types of ponies, possessing the strong, slender legs of the earth ponies, the elegant, graceful wings of the pegasi, and the magically conductive horns of the unicorns.

As I read, I learned that all but the two tallest ones were once mere mortal ponies who shared magical bonds that surpassed the confines of the known universe. They forged together to become, alongside the two tallest winged unicorns (or 'alicorns,' as the Watchmare called them), the Keepers of the Wellspring of Harmony. They defeated many powerful enemies, and even converted a monstrous demon, and shaped the world preceding Paradiso as they saw fit. Ultimately, their love for each other,  and for peace and balance in all things, transcended existence, and they transformed into immortal stone angels that watched over Chronos Square, at the heart of Crown City, from their perch atop the Tower of Broken Worlds, the Cathedral of the Timekeeper's mighty clock tower.

I was excited to read of their power, their splendor. They were capable of feats and magical spells I could not even begin to comprehend with my feeble, uneducated brain. They unified the world under the seal of the Watchmare. From what I read, it was as if all the magic and energy in the universe converged on a single point within the cathedral, channeled into the eight glorious beings.

They could grant wishes, heal the sick, pronounce blessings of luck and treasure to the faithful ponies who obeyed the Watchmare. They could give the gifts of knowledge and wealth to those without either. They were even rumored to alter destinies, in a world where one's fate was inscribed on their flank.

A destiny the Watchmare herself had planned, in a way that did not disrupt a world of perfect Harmony.

Something inside of me awoke the night I read that book, something that had slept far more than I had. I felt the cold, dreary void of uselessness crowded out by the tingling fire of purpose.

It was as if I knew, at that moment, that the Watchmare was wrong. I was not going to live my life by merely passing the days, waiting for someone to come and turn my world around*. I was convinced that I was destined for greatness, but I wouldn't just sit on my flank and wait for it to come knocking.

I was going to see the Clockwork Angels and change my life. I would wish for my parents, my real parents, to love me and welcome me home. Perhaps my mother was still there, in the place of my birth. I would wish for the ability to sleep longer than I ever dreamed. I would wish to visit other worlds, other stars, and see the birth of it all. Perhaps the Watchmare would make me an ambassador, and send me on trips across the universe.

But was it possible? After reading the Angels' incredible feats, I hadn't a doubt in my mind. I was faithful at the least, or I thought I was anyways. I was very determined as well. I would learn later that faith and determination were not, by design, equal. But for now, I felt I was both. There was a world, no, worlds beyond the village of Barrel Arbor, and I was going to see them all. And it would all begin with a visit to Chronos Square. It was so simple! I would trot into the village in the early morning, gather a few precious supplies, and then make the day's journey to port city of Windy Vale. From there I would hitch a ride on one of the steamliners I'd watched from my hill, bound to follow the Pinion River by air on its winding path to the north. From there the caravan would touch down on the rail network through the Kolkata Caverns, cutting through the heart of the Crestfallen Mountains, finally passing through the Gates of Delirium and arriving, at long last, in Crown City.

I was already feeling excited, the gears in my head whirling with the anticipation of adventure, and I hadn't even begun to pack my things. I had so few provisions, and no experience with such matters before. I would have to pack light, of course. Within my room, I pried up several floorboards and withdrew a small wooden cigar box, emblazoned with the Watchmare's insignia, a honeybee. The box had once been owned by my real father, though I never paid any thought to how he would obtain anything bearing the Watchmare's seal. My uncle told me to keep it safe, so I hid it here, in the boards beneath my bed. Opening it for the first time, I was astonished to find that it was chock full of brilliant golden coins that looked like they had just been minted. All the years I kept this box hidden for a special purpose, and now I knew what I would need it for! Surely this money would be enough to cover any expenses I would encounter on my pilgrimage.

A small gold chain rested atop the coins. Lifting it, I found it seemed quite heavy. As I pulled it up, I realized that it belonged to a pocket watch, this one also bearing with the Watchmare's symbol. My father must have been a very important stallion to own such an important-looking device. Opening the watch, I was greeted by an ornate clock face bearing an elaborate array of hands denoting hours, minutes, and seconds, as well as the month, day, year, seasons, and phases of the sun and moon and rotation of the earth. I was astonished to see such a complex clock. It seemed like it would only need one more face and it could also function as a star guide. The time read 12:30 AM.

A picture of a beautiful, if not mature looking mare graced the inside of the watch cover. I was curious for a moment as to who the mare was, but after a brief glance, I realized immediately who the watch really belonged to. The mare wore a crown adorned with the same sigil: a honeybee encircled by a modest looking gear. I'd seen similar portraits in the back of many of the books I'd read.

She was the Watchmare.

I found it, in that moment, impossible to believe that my progenitor had once owned this box, but, considering I never met the stallion himself, and uncle rarely spoke of him, I assumed I knew no better who he was. My head spun for a moment, wondering if they had somehow known each other, but I quickly recovered, feeling that any question I had would be answered in Chronos Square.

I dressed myself in a shirt and pants and tucked the pocket watch into my homespun overcoat, placed the cigar box in a small saddlebag along with a few books, a journal, and a fresh apple and canteen for the road into Barrel Arbor. I stepped in front of the vanity mirror to have one last look at myself before heading off into the world. My pale purple fur seemed even paler in the moonlight. The short, tousled hair that sat atop my head was usually off-white with a hint of blue, and here in the night light, it seemed to possess an almost ethereal glow.

I smirked, the twinkle in my dark red eyes smirking back at me. Looking back on the moment, I realize that the look of confidence I wore was not undue, but it would prove to wear thin as the years passed. For the time, it didn't matter.

I was ready.

Ready for the Angels.

Ready for the Watchmare.

Ready for the world.

---

"Broon! You would leave now!" Aunt Wheatgrass shouted. "After all we've done for you? We took you in, brought you up to believe in the Watchmare alone, and now you've decided you're leaving?" I hated seeing her like this. We didn't fight much, but when we did, it was always the same thing. About life outside my so-called destiny.

"You can't do this, Broon" uncle interjected. I'd thought before about leaving, but that was before I'd learned about the Angels. Their surprise, their shocked expressions when I announced my departure seemed to cut deeper than their earlier rebukes. I was being honest, serious about leaving. I was done wondering about life beyond the farm. Now I was going to see it for myself. The saddlebags didn't weigh much, but suddenly they bore my provisions and emotional weight alike. The thought struck me that I was really leaving. Leaving the ponies I had once thought of as my family, then as guardians. Uncle continued, driving a hoof to the floor. "Paradiso is a bigger place than you could possibly imagine. There are places full of danger lurking beyond the Watchmare's reach, beyond her control."

"Then perhaps I should speak to her. I am going to see the Angels to have my destiny changed; I may as well pay her a visit? I might even be useful to Her."

"With your whole three spells? Her Regulators would never let you past the gates of her estate," he said sharply.

"How would you know? You've never been to Crown City either, and there's no way you've ever even seen the Watchmare, let alone conversed with Her. The Angels will make me stronger! And when I'm stronger, and smarter, I can find a way to reach Her."

He grimaced and looked away. Something in my words stung. I could see redness brewing in his eyes. He turned to me, his voice calm, but a little uneven. He seemed... concerned.

"The Watchmare has given you your path in life. Your place is here, with us on the farm." uncle went on.

"Oh, is it?" I asked. "Poking at potatoes all day and trotting around the house at night? You all know I'm no good around here. Is that really what the Watchmare wants for me?" Aunt Wheatgrass turned to me, frustration, rather than concern glaring through her normally soft countenance.

"Don't you think our loving creator would want the best life for you, the one you would feel the most happiness? What about the farm?" she asked.

"But I’m not happy here! I hate my life right now! This is my chance to be happy! And what about the farm?" I shot back. "As far as I'm concerned, this place will go on just fine without me. Even without his horn Uncle Wheatgrass is more productive than I am." He shot a glare at me. "I want to go and see the Angels, and now that I think about it, maybe I'll ask them where to find my real mother so I can tell her what a piece of filth she is for leaving me here with you two!"

WHACK!

Aunt reared up and stomped my head to the hard, unpolished wooden floor with her hooves, my jaw rattling at the impact.

"Don't you dare talk about your mother like that! She left you behind because it was the will of the Watchmare! If you curse your mother, you are blaspheming Her!" She backed me against the front door. "You want to leave the farm? Fine! See how you like it when the Angels punish you for your selfishness!"

With that, she threw open the door and shoved me out into the warm night air. The sound of the doorframe splintering as it slammed shut drove a spike of pain into my heart. At the same time, I could feel a sense of freedom washing over me. For a moment I stood and looked up at the stars, breathing a sigh of relief knowing there was nothing to stop me from pressing forward. I turned for the gate and left the family property behind, the low midnight breeze rocking the grass of the hillside into a soft slumber.

---

Having only been to the tiny village of Barrel Arbor twice before, my still-developing, sleep-deprived brain failed to remind me that it is a long trip for less physically-disciplined unicorns. I will admit, in retrospect, that I was quite sedentary on the farm, as my duties did not require muscle or endurance of any kind. And since my pastimes included eating the spoils of harvest time, reading, spell casting, and, when I could, sleeping, it was not often that I took the time to exercise. Both of the previous trips to Barrel Arbor were undertaken when I was very young, and I was thus allowed to accompany my uncle on his travels in the somewhat-bumpy comfort of a small wagon.

Now, as I traversed the countryside barehooved and feeling rather famished, I was beginning to miss the apple I had consumed only minutes before. While only a quarter-mile down the road I felt mildly hungry, I now felt, after discarding the apple core, that I was hungry even more so. Each hoof step shook, just a bit, and my head was beginning to feel rather faint with each passing moment. I began to sweat mildly, and each heartbeat seemed to echo within my head. A burning, empty void began to squirm within my bowels.

Goodness, what a lazy little pony I used to be!

The burning in my stomach soon turned to a very dull ache, and I wished again and again that I had eaten something before severing all ties with the only family I'd ever known.

Hunger wasn't the only thing that ached inside. I would never see them again. But surely, since I'd made it this far, my hunger was for the best, wasn't it? Of course it was. As I trudged ahead, I pictured myself in one of Chronos Square's fine eateries, gorging myself, if rather daintily (when in Rome...) on the Watchmare's favorite cuisines. I could only imagine what meeting Her would be like. Sitting across the table from the most powerful being in existence, sipping on fine wine and enjoying the fresh night air on a balcony overlooking the Angels. It sounded heavenly, and my stomach let out a rumbling song of agreement.

As the hours passed, I could see the faint glow of street lights glowing beyond a low hillside. Soon, I would find myself in Barrel Arbor proper, and it was there that I would gather the supplies needed for the trek across Paradiso. Of course, it would be nice to have some pony to accompany me on my travels, perhaps one with a little more experience, but I prayed for any pony who could handle cooking.

Wandering into the empty, dimly lit main street of the village, I felt my prayers were answered, at least in part. A dapper looking stallion, dressed in an expensive, if not worn-looking suit and beaver hat stumbled out of a nearby alleyway and swaggered in my direction. He looked up, the dark circles under his eyes widening as he made eye contact. He hiccupped, his eyes crossing, and stopped several paces from me. He swayed in place for what must have been an eternity. I stared at him, unsure of what to do or say. He seemed to forget what he was about to do.

"Hey there, uh.... shit," he gulped. He squinted and drew in a breath.

"Are you-?"

"No, no, no! Shh,” he interjected. I shut up. The clatter of hoof steps echoed through the alleyway behind him.

"Broon! Yeah, that's your name!" he happily snapped. "What are you d-doing out... here?" He gave me a lopsided smile and blinked unevenly.

I was stunned. I'd just barely left the farm and already somepony else, somepony I'd never met, knew my name. My heart fluttered for a second, until I came to the realization that somepony I'd never met knew who I was.

"How do you know my name?" I asked warily.

"Oh, I was just on my way to the telegraph office to deliver a message to the- oh, wait," he replied. He was barely coherent. I wouldn't have been surprised if he just turned and went back the way he came. "R-eally, now!" he reeled. "I like that. T-e-legraphs are cool."

I didn't have words for him. It was obvious, from the moment he stepped out of the shadows that he was drunk, and mingling with him would only slow my progress. I was already feeling stupider standing near him. I had to keep moving. As I turned and continued on my way, he followed me. He was having great difficulty standing straight, and walking, at the least, proved difficult for him. I stopped and watched as he clumsily made his way closer. I picked up my own pace, as did he, tripping over his own hooves on more than one occasion. I was beginning to feel more uneasy. It was like he didn't understand I wanted nothing to do with him. I stopped, turned around, and bid him farewell.

Continuing on my path to glory, I was surprised to see that he was still following me. The sound of hoofsteps grew louder. Shouts rang out over the dense silence between the two of us.

"Over here!" a gravelly stallion called out. "That drunk went this way!" The drunk in question leaped in the air and ran in front of me, disrupting my forward motion yet again. I stared at the inebriated pony before me. He was being chased by Regulators. Of course! He was drunk off his ass and trying to hide from the Watchmare's elite commandos responsible for keeping the peace. He was going to get what he deserved for disrupting the-

Wait. He was being chased by Regulators for being drunk on a weekday morning. I was beyond the boundaries of the farm I was doomed to live on forever. If the Regulators caught me anywhere near him, I would be just as finished as he was.

The drunkard spared the voices a hurried glance before lunging towards me suddenly.

“Come, Broon! Make haste!" he shouted, grabbing me by the collar. He dragged me into the main streets and ran on ahead, as if he had sobered up instantly. I stared wide eyed for a moment, then looked back as a squad of Regulators emerged from the alley behind me. They gave me a look.

"He went that way!" I said, pointing in the direction of the indecent stallion. He was nowhere to be seen. I returned my gaze to the enforcers, and then took a step back. The lead Regulator, wearing a crimson beret, gave me a knowing glare. I felt a lump form in my throat.

"And what are you doing out this early, little pony?" he snorted. "Shouldn't you be back on the farm, where you belong?" They knew I'd come from the farm, but I realized that, being the Watchmare's law enforcement, they probably knew everything there was to know about every pony in Paradiso, so of course they knew who I was.

"Who, me?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"No, not you, the purple unicorn with blue hair standing next to you. Yes, you, dumbass! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, uh, I'm supposed to be here!" I lied. "I'm sending a message to the Watchmare from the telegraph office. Yeah!"

"You're so full of shit!" one of the Regulators scoffed. "You're so full of shit it's spilling out of your mouth!" They moved towards me menacingly. "You should know better than to try and trick the Regulators. Every pony has their place, and you're not in yours!"

The leader drew a nightstick from his belt with his teeth. My heart pounded to the march of their metal-studded horseshoes, blood running cold in my veins. They were going to beat me, then drag me off to the farm to toil with potatoes for eternity. Or worse, they would ship me off to a prison. I had to do something. I wanted dearly to turn and run, to leave Barrel Arbor, to leave everything about my old life behind, but I was frozen in place. The glow of sunrise in the distance began to work its way down the village streets as my mind raced. I took a hesitant step back.

"Broon, you idiot!"

The drunken pony closed the gap between myself and the Regulators and backed close to me. "I told you to go! Now move your ass to the station, now!" he shouted at me. "I'll keep these jerks busy." I turned and ran, not wanting to take my chances against the militants. Ducking into the main street, I made my way to the south end of Barrel Arbor, where the steamliner station would link me to Windy Vale over a sun's travel. If I was lucky, I might have arrived before sundown.

Unfortunately, luck is an abstract concept (at best) in a world of clockwork precision. Two Regulators, batons brandished, emerged from the side streets as I tore across the cobblestone. The golden glow of morning poured across the houses and storefronts, accompanied by the singsong greetings of the birds. If I didn’t fear for my life, I may have paused to enjoy their playful symphonies, but the shouts of the stallions were not far from me.

And thus begins my story.