The first thing Writ noticed about the desert was the heat. Celestia’s mane it was hot! The Forbidden City was only a three day trip from Canterlot in balloon, but to him it was like stepping into another dimension. Sweat covered his white coat, and the coat of every pony around him. The stench of so many ponies was nearly unbearable.
Scrunching his nose up, Writ looked around him as he stepped off the loading ramp. The Forbidden City was beyond crowded. There were ponies literally EVERYWHERE. They could be seen unloading freight balloons, screaming at one another to be heard over the crowd, haggling angrily at one of the many market stalls. Canterlot’s busiest day couldn’t compete with the swarm Writ now faced. The earth pony sighed, already regretting his decision to leave Equestria.
Less than a week ago, Writ had been flying through the dusty corners of Canterlot’s prestigious library, his mechanical wings humming steadily. He held in his hand a scroll he had finished the night before, and was on his way to return it. Writ loved books. He had loved books since he was a colt. Needless to say, he was the second pony to earn his cutie mark, which, appropriately enough, was a book. Since that time, Writ had studied as many topics as there are days in a year, all the way from mathematics and science, to engineering and magical theory.
As the turn came up ahead of him, Writ over shot, and slammed into one of the bookshelves with a solid THUNK. His wings stopped moving after the impact, and Writ fell, along with several books, from the shelves to the marble floor. Writ sat up rubbing his head with a hoof. He had built his wings a month before, but he still hadn’t gotten used to flying. How a pegasus did it, he had no clue. As he stood, a book caught his eye. What's this? The book was old, that he could tell even though it was face down. The leather was dry and cracked, and the pages were yellow with time. Writ flipped it over. The cover was painted with geometric designs and primitive paintings of ponies. The title was The Magic of Ancient Desert Earth Ponies
Writ was confused and intrigued. Unicorns were the only ponies that could do magic, with the exception of Alicorns, of course. He tucked the book in his pack and began cleaning up his mess. As he picked up the books and scrolls, the title of his find wheeled around in his mind. Was it possible that Earth Ponies had once had magic? If they had, what had happened to it? All his life, Writ had been a bit jealous of Unicorns. Of course, earth ponies were just as unique as unicorns or pegasi, but he had always found them quite…ordinary.
Writ began to make his way outside, his mind still on the book at is side. He looked up as he reached the door and gasped. Running towards him was the only Pony he considered his intellectual equal, and the only pony to get her cutie mark before him: Twilight Sparkle.
She was beautiful too. Her long dark mane with the purple streak seemed like the night sky brought into physical form, and her eyes shown with such passion that he couldn’t help but think of her often. He raised his hoof in greeting as she drew near, but she didn’t see him and kept running into the library and up a spiral staircase to where the books on magical lore were kept.
Writ sighed. Of course she would never be interested in him. He was just an earth pony, and she was a beautiful unicorn, and the prized pupil to the princess. Writ shook off his disappointment, and walked home with his head high.
Later that night in his bed, Writ lay awake reading his find. It spoke of the many architectural wonders of the desert, and spoke of legends of Ponies using magic to make rain fall, cause crops to grow, and even aid in battle. One legend, in particular, interested him.
“Long ago, the desert was ruled by a cruel unicorn named Lavender Darkhorn. Using her mastery of magic, she crushed all but the most well hidden pools of earth magic, rendering the earth ponies of the desert powerless against her and her acolytes. Without their magic, the earth ponies could not thrive in the harsh environments of the desert. Famine and plague washed over the land, killing any and all ponies in its wake, until one day, a pony stepped up to challenge Lavender’s rule. His name was Soloman Nighthoof. His coat was as black as the darkest cave, and his mane shown silver as the moon. It is said that he was born of the sands, that in its time of need the desert birthed him. He carried with him the knowledge of earth magic, and quickly assembled an army. He taught his followers how to summon the earth to help them, and how to influence their world with magic, and then he and his army marched on Lavender’s palace.
It was a long battle, with casualties on both sides, but eventually the palace lay before Soloman, and he galloped into the queens chambers. Lavender threw her strongest magic at Soloman, but he would not succumb, his sword flaring with the light of his own magic kept him from being overwhelmed. Exhausted, the two flew at one another, grappling for control. Lavender, being the lighter of the two, eventually slipped past him, and struck him with a blast that would have disintegrated a normal pony, but Soloman clung on to life. He grabbed Lavender’s horn, summoned the last shreds of his strength, and released all of the power of the earth.
An explosion rocked the land. Filling the sky with a light brighter than even the sun. As the light faded, everypony saw with amazement that Lavender’s palace was no more. All that lay in testament to the power used in Soloman’s last spell was a lake with crystal clear water. The earth pony born of the desert had, in his last breath, preserved his people as a final farewell.”
Two days and a letter to Princess Celestia and Writ had been on his way. Now that he was here, he wanted to head back to Equestria, but he couldn’t let himsef leave until he knew how ancient earth ponies had used magic. Writ pushed his way through the throngs of people, trying to find his way to the “Sands and Stones” inn.
“Excuse me sir-ah sorry-e-excuse me can you-ow!” Everytime Writ slowed down to ask for direction he was nearly stepped on. On a few occasions, he was kicked for not moving quickly enough, leaving smarting bruises on his legs. Time was ticking by quickly and the sun began its downward fall toward the horizon, but Writ made no more progress than in his first several minutes. After two hours of searching in the congested streets, Writ grew frustrated. He had come to the city not wanting to draw attention to himself, but he no longer cared. He smashed a button on his chest and his wings glided smoothly out of their harnesses. With a roar, he gunned the ignition and took off into the air. Luckily for him, there were few pegasi around these parts of the desert, many of them preferred more humid areas where clouds are in abundance.
From above, the city looked like a massive ant hill. The sandstone, to his amusement, made it look EXACTLY like an anthill. Writ allowed a small smile to form on his lips. He twisted himself to face the sun, and looked down, hoping to see some sign or marker that would lead him to the inn.
“Hey kid! Nice wings!”
Writ looked up at the sound and saw a chubby pegasus with a splotchy blue and green coat come level with him. His eyes were blue, but something about them seemed off.
“Thank you. Do you think you coul help me? I’m a bit lost.”
The other pony laughed and looked Writ over, “Uh- yea kid, whatever you need hehe.”
Writ began feeling uncomfortable as another Pegasus, this one skinnier with a dark purple coat, came level with them, that same look in his eyes, “I’m-uh- looking for the S-sands and Stones inn..but I’m not from these parts and could use some h—hey!” He twisted his wings, dislodging a small pink pegasus from them and dropped a few feet, “What is all this about?”
“Shut up, boy.” The purple pegasus said in a deep, commanding voice. His face was stern, and frightening to Writ.
“Thats no way to treat people” Writ said, though he regretted it, when pink-coat smacked him across the face with a steel-covered hoof, making Writ’s eyes water.
“He said shut up, Equestrian!”
“I don’t want any trouble,” Writ said fearfully, trying to slowly back up in the air, but the pegasi, much better flyers by far, kept an even distance.
“Yes, but they do,” said a light voice. A new pegasus flew up next to Writ. He had strange wings, not mechanical, but leathery and veined. In his hoofs he carried a rifle that was polished to shine brightly in the sun. The pony smiled at him from the side, and Writ noticed his thin mustache. He looks like he is from Prance
“Hello boys,” The new pegasus said with a lilting accent. yup, definitely Prench ”I thank you for finding my nephew for me, he unfortunately has no sense of direction, but then again, he is barely out of his colt years.” Writ scowled, but the others seemed to be afraid of the pegasus from Prance.
“Yea, yea, whatever, the chubby pegasus said grimacing. “Let’s go boys.”
As they flew off, The prench pegasus looked at Writ with a half-smile decorating his face, “Come along, young stallion. I’ll take you to where you need to go.”
“T-thank you,” Writ said slowly, expecting there to be a catch to this pony’s amiable appearance. “Why did you help me?”
The pegasus hmmphed, “Just because everyone else in this city is inhospitable does not mean that I have a tendancy towards rudeness, mon fils. Now, where is it that you are meant to be this day?”
Writ was taken back by the pegasus’s statement. He considered the pony’s response before deciding to tell him, “I’m supposed to be at the Sands and Stones.”
This time the Pegasus laughed loudly, “Ah you’ve obviously never been in the Forbidden City before! It is the very first building you see when you step down from a balloon!”
As he laughed, Writ felt the blood rushing to his face as his anger welled up inside him. “You mean I spent HOURS looking for a building that was in front of me the WHOLE TIME!?”
The other pegasus righted himself, but a large smile still played across his lips, “That is exactly what I’m saying. Come, follow me.”
With his mouth still open in shock, Writ followed the pegasus all the way back to where he had arrived at the city and into a large stone building. Writ noted, without a small amount of irritation, that there was not a sign on the outside advertising the existance of the inn. What he did not notice, however, were the three sets of eyes that followed him as he stepped inside.
