Have you ever heard someone believe something so farfetched that you just cannot help but to wonder what sort of madness had possessed them? Something they believed in so fiercely that you can only be curious as to what and why. A belief they followed so vehemently, so absolutely, that they could almost, almost convince you to believe it too.
I’ve travelled the world, from Stalliongrad to Zebrica, and I’ve seen things that would sound like foal’s tales to the average pony. I’ve travelled with griffons, with dragons, and with ponies - all of them with a variety of hopes and dreams. But never in all my travels had I met someone as interesting as the enigmatic dragon known to the world simply as ‘Wanderer.’
Wanderer was a living legend, and the tales of his heroics ran far and wide through the land. It is said that he would help anyone in need, anywhere, at any time, and would never ask for anything in return. However, he would never stay in the same place longer than a day or two. He was always on the move, and with him, the tales of his deeds followed.
By pure luck I met him on my own travels. I was no stranger to his legend, and I could do no less than to offer him a drink at the local tavern. He took my offer, and sat down with me. To sit opposite such a marvel of this world was rather... underwhelming. Despite who I had in front of me, he looked no more extraordinary than any other dragon still able to fit through doors. He would have been no taller than Princess Celestia.
I couldn’t help but want find out if the tales were true. Was he truly some altruistic being, or just another mercenary looking for the odd job, moving from place to place.
“Is it true?” I asked, vaguely trying to hide my amazement. “Do you really help anypony who desires it?”
He took a sip of his drink. “Yeah. It’s nothing more than what any other pony would offer their neighbour. I just happen to be at the right place, at the right time, and I do what I can.” Behind the smile on his face, I could see that every word of that had been rehearsed and spoken over a thousand times. I almost felt bad for asking.
I doubted him. “I’m afraid that’s not what happens in reality, my friend. I travel, I have not seen home in... years, and yet, I have not seen the kindness that you profess anypony would offer.” I took a long gulp of my own drink, eyeing him over the top of the mug.
“Then perhaps you should look a little harder. I certainly see it everywhere I go. You just need to look a little deeper than what’s on the surface.” His response was less rehearsed than the last, but it was clear that he had been challenged more than once on the subject. A small smirk crept along his face, as if he knew what I was doing.
“So you are saying that I could ask anypony in this tavern for help with anything, and they will do so with blind obedience?”
His smirk grew deeper until it was a sly smile. He nodded simply, and I should have known what would happen next. But alas, the past is so clear.
I did as I was challenged. And within that split second between my asking for help, and my cheek burning red from her answer, did I realise that Wanderer was laughing. I turned to him with anger. He raised his hands in front of his body, palms toward me.
“Calm down. It was only a little bit of fun.” He reached into the pouch at his waist and pulled out three bits, and placed them on the table in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
The anger in me waned, and I took a deep breath.“So,” I exhaled, “you do know the way of the world?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you do what you do? Why help ponies, when you are not likely to gain it in return?” I took the bits and placed them in my own pouch. If that was all I had to do to make money, I would do it again.
Wanderer sighed, looking at his reflection inside his cup. “You’re going to think it’s pretty stupid.”
“A likely evaluation.”
He laughed softly, then looked up to me. There was a clear determination in his eyes. “I’m trying to find Heaven.”
I choked a bit, my eyes widened. “Heaven? You don’t mean the plane of the afterlife?”
He shook his head, “Heaven.” He pointed to the sky. “What’s up there,” he brought his claw down until it touched the wooden plank of the table, “I can find here.”
I felt an involuntary smile come to me, and I could not help myself but to laugh. It was not a laugh of humour, but one of awkward misunderstanding, “Surely you jest.”
There was a sudden irritation in his face. “Surely.”
I grimaced, feeling quickly ashamed at myself. I had always tried to hold myself to the virtue that anyone was free to believe whatever he or she wanted to believe. I had just never truly met someone with such strange belief. With an almost reflexive reaction, I placed three bits on the table. “I apologise. Tell me, what you are looking for.”
The improvement in his mood was almost too miniscule to measure. However, it was noticeable enough. His gaze returned to his mug. “I lost someone very dear to me. The one pony who meant the world to me. When I find Heaven, I’ll find her again.”
This was a curious concept. To think that Heaven may actually be a physically manifested and accessible location was beyond preposterous. But, it was the sheer conviction in his words that lead me to say: “Let me help you. If only for a time.”
I don’t know what it was that could have ever convinced me to consider helping this dragon. Compared to his legend, he was unimpressive and a touch mad. But there was something about him that made me want to extend my hoof, and help him however I could. Even if that simply meant that I would be his companion between here and where ever we ended our relationship.
It was a rather pleasant reaction and agreement. He seemed pleased for the company. We left town the next morning, our belongings strapped and secure. It was not up to me to decide on the direction, and Wanderer hadn’t told me. He knew where he was going, and so we went.
* * * * *
Despite what was commonly said, Wanderer did not have wings. So, we spent our entire time together walking roads and following tracks. He was a rather comforting companion, something which I found rather pleasing. There was something about him, and I could never say what it was that set him as a companionable person. He was warm, confiding, and considering.
Almost familiar.
His ability to put one at ease was only surpassed by his intelligence. The discussions we shared during our travel were invigorating. The education which he held on so many various subjects, was nothing short of astounding. He understood the culture of ponykind, the finer works of magic, and he was even able to name the various instances in history that each of the Elements of Harmony were used. He could describe the representation of each, in such intimate detail, that one would think he wore it around his own neck.
Our travels took us across the border, through the desert and up to the Marshlands. We’d set up camp at the edge of the marshes when I decided I would pick his brain just that little more, to see if I could find some truth in whatever he was looking for.
Over time, the curiousness of his goal had plagued me. Heaven, surely, was not a real place. And to look for it to reunite with a loved one, seemed even more farfetched. I needed to understand more, before the questions drove me to the brink.
What did this ‘Heaven’ supposedly look like? Why did he believe that it was something that can be touched? Who is this ‘her’ and ‘she’ that he speaks so fondly of, yet refuses to name?
“Tell me, Wanderer,” I asked as he stoked the campfire. “Why do you do what you do?”
He looked to me with a quizzical expression. I realised that I could have phrased myself far better, than simply trying to include him in the conversation inside my head.
“Why are you searching for something that may not exist?”
During that moment that he looked at me, I could see expressions of anger, sadness, confusion and a bitter acceptance. He sat down heavily, causing my dinner to rattle in its can. “I was once taught that just because something cannot be seen, does not mean that it doesn’t exist. And that is why I do what I do.” A smile brought itself upon his face. “I’ll find it, and I’ll find her. That’s what drives me to continue my search.”
Pure, blind belief. Faith. It was something that I could not ever find myself acting on. It was too flawed, too consequential. And yet, here was this dragon following his heart blindly wherever it told him to go, with only the cloak on his back and the bits in his bag. This thought filled me with worry, and in that instant I could feel myself wanting to leave this dragon to his dream and return to my own.
He saw this in me, and his expression dropped. It was a frustration I could feel, even sitting so far away from him. He said nothing. His eyes sharpened until they focussed on me with the glare of a growing anger. It was one I could understand: The anger and frustration one feels when their beliefs are challenged.
As I felt the weight of this settle on me, I mustered the only words I could think of without making this worse. “I apologise.”
His expression did not soften. “You’re free to leave. But you cannot stay with me, unless you believe in what it is that I am doing.”
“It is not that,” I chided myself for losing restraint; “I just do not understand it.”
“It’s not yours to understand. You were welcome to come with me as an aide, but if you can’t find it in yourself to believe what I believe in, then you aren’t any help at all.” The words did not cut me, so much as the tone that expressed them. I had offended this dragon with my disbelief, and he was hurting.
“I apologise, Friend. It’s just—”
“What is it?”
I hesitated, pondering how to say this without causing more strife. “You follow this blindly,” I finally answered. And somehow that drives you to do what you do. There is no logic to suggest that this Heaven even exists.” I heard my voice starting to rise. “You are warm and true to your cause, you give altruistically and you stand by your own belief, and it is this one simple thought that drives you to do all this. There is more to this! Surely, more to this than what anyone in this world knows!” I threw my hooves in the air, feeling my own frustration rise. It was not for my disbelief of what he was doing, but for the simple fact that he was just as stubborn to accept my disbelief.
There was a pause in his motions as he regarded my words, in particular to my description of him. He softened but remained uneasy; the may have anger faded, but the disapproval remained. “You remind me of somepony. She, like you, was an intelligent pony who believed that logic was triumphant over most things. Do you know what happened?”
I shook my head, feeling the unease of the air sink into my very core.
“She learned. She made a group of friends that taught her how to believe in the unbelievable, to better herself and become everything that she could possibly be.” I watched as his face began to soften as he continue. “I watched her grow from somepony so raw, and flawed, to a very respectable and admirable pony.”
It was at that point, that I realised something true. He believed in Heaven just the same, but it was not Heaven that drove him to do what he does. This pony, who he was looking for, was the one who drove him. He was striving to become like her, through his quest to reunite with her. Whoever this pony was, she was a clear impression on his entire being. At that point, I couldn’t judge him, or his ideals. I could only feel for him.
“She’s the one you’re looking for,” I said as softly and comforting as I could
He nodded. “Yes.”
I didn’t dare to question any further. It was not for that he would turn on me, rather that I could not live with hurting this dragon any more than I already had. He was doing far more with his life than I was doing with my own, and it was something that I could admire.
Nay a word was spoken for the rest of the night, nor our trip through the marshes the next day. It was an uncomfortable trek. Each time I felt that I should start a further discussion on a topic from the previous two or three days, the expression on his face said that I should not. He would glance at me every so often, to see me walking along side him. That was the extent of any communication between us.
I wish that I could have had the chance to mend what damage I had caused, but I could not blame him for feeling the way he did. So I remained silent as well, until we reached a small town. And in the distance Canterlot sat silently on the mountain that had held it for so many millennia.
I followed Wanderer for a short while longer, and eventually we reached an old graveyard. To describe it as derelict would have been a compliment. It was as if nopony had been here in years. The silence was unnerving, until he spoke.
“I need some time alone. I won’t be too long.” He gestured toward a colourful building far off. “If you want to wait for me there, feel free. Tell them you’re with me.” He sounded so sullen. I knew what he was doing, and had no intention to question it.
I did as I was told. The building was a bakery, specialising more specifically, in cupcakes. When I had mentioned that I was with Wanderer, I received two cupcakes. One, a delicious looking one with mint frosting, and another covered in gems. It was clear who that one was for.
I couldn’t help but to ask the worker who Wanderer was, and just how well he was known. To have a cupcake made specifically for him, without any form of prompting, was not something that a simple stranger would receive.
What I was told was largely unsurprising: Wanderer had been known around town for decades. He was one of the most known and favoured residents, and had always been a respected member of the community, even after taking vast amounts of time away from it. However, he would come to this town at least once every six months in order to pay his respects to the loved and lost.
Wanderer took that opportune moment to arrive and sit down opposite me. He looked re-energised, as if the emotions I’d seen him carrying not moments before, had been wiped clean from his slate. He said a few things to the mare, of which I assume were years of in-jokes, before pulling out a few bits and placing them on the table in front of me.
“There’s no need to apologise, I enjoy cupcakes,” I quipped.
He chuckled and shook his head. “This is where we part ways, friend. I do apologise for my reaction to you last night, although I hope you can understand why I felt the way I did. But from here on, I need to continue on my journey alone.”
I could feel my own energy drain away at his words. I had been enjoying his company, and now he had decided we were to part ways. I knew there was nothing I could do to persuade him. I brought the bits closer to me with a sigh, “That is a shame, Wanderer. And here I was just feeling like I was getting to know you.”
“Me too. Perhaps if we see each other in the future, we can travel again.”
“I would like that. Do I have your word?”
It was once said that the word of a dragon was eternal. What I received was... different.
“Cross my heart and hope to fly,” he put a claw to his eye, “stick a cupcake in my eye.”
I was perplexed at this notion. In a feigned attempted at belonging, I attempted to copy the motions, only failing to do more than poke myself in the eye.
He chuckled at me. “Pinkie Promise. It means that I will hold my promise to you, forever.” That felt like another joke that I did not understand. However, I took it for what it was worth and smiled.
“Tell me just one thing, Wanderer. One favour.”
“One favour,” he responded.
“Who is that mare that you’re looking for?”
He smiled fondly. A smile that is only ever granted to that one person that means the entire world to you. A smile that would warm the heart of whomever it was meant for, and would be cherished for an eternity. “She was like a sister to me. She was the only true family that I ever had.”
I nodded, feeling a warmth overcome me. “Then please, do me just one more thing.”
“Go on.”
“Find her,” I said, feeling myself smile as I was overcome by the very motivation and belief that he must have lived his entire life. “Find Heaven.”
He stood up and moved around the table. He stood over me for a few moments before wrapping his arms around me, and bringing me close to his chest. “Thank you.”
* * * * *
I never saw Wanderer after that. I have kept my eyes open for him every single day, through the plains and oceans, villages and cities, and I have yet to find him. He never stays in one place for more than a couple of days.
I find myself thinking about him often. I find myself admiring his strength and conviction, and wishing up to that dense night sky, that he will find what he is looking for.
I hope that one day, he will truly find Heaven.
