Mortal Equines

Chapter Two: Across The Wastes

“The way you say it suggests the Princesses had any choice in the matter. The old tales said they cared... do you really think they would choose to abandon us?”

A faint, lazy buzzing could be heard through the hull of the airship as it drifted along at a seemingly sedate pace a mile above the wasteland. We had been flying for the better part of two days in a northerly direction, the wind at our backs for most of the time. I was sat, staring out of a porthole in the cargo hold, watching Angleberry soaring outside. As much as we were both feeling resentment over being torn away from our comfortable lives, I was enjoying the rare chance to see my closest friend and personal aide flying free, a delighted look on her face.

        Spark Welder, on the other hoof, was another matter. She had come aboard minutes before liftoff, muttering darkly to herself, and from what I had managed to gather before she stormed off down the passageway, the same stallion that had sent Angleberry and I off had ‘exiled’ her, as she had declared dramatically before resuming her torrent of quiet insults towards him. Now she was off goddesses only know where on this air freighter, sulking still, no doubt. I had yet to even see her in the humble little mess hall at meal times.

        I reached out with my magic, a faint purple haze enveloping an eclair on the plate beside me, resting on a crate labelled ‘fertiliser’. Although the crew had been unable to tell me of my assignment, or even our destination, they had afforded us every possible courtesy, including ‘losing’ a few luxury food items, such as the eclairs I was steadily making my way through whilst watching my companion.

        Speaking of the crew, it was just then that the circular handle on the hatch began to spin, screeching loudly, the high-pitched squealing of metal on metal grating at my ears. With a quick burst of my magic, the book beside me was flipped onto its front, hiding the title away from prying eyes. I scooted around on my wooden perch, looking towards the hatch as it slowly ground open, a fresh-faced young colt in service to my guild peeking through the entryway at me, innocent eyes wide.

“M-ma’am?” he stuttered, coming to what could charitably be called attention before stepping warily into the hold. “T-the captain sends his compliments, and w-wishes to inform you that our destination is in visual range, i-if you wish to follow me to the bridge?” he continued, hastily appending another “Ma’am” to the end of his question.

        I gave him a slightly awkward smile, followed up with a brisk nod and a “Thank you,” in an attempt to ease his nerves. After a visible attempt to relax and an audible breath, he returned the nod stiffly and spun about, his gangly legs almost flailing in their movements as he all but fled the compartment to wait outside. With a slight snort of amusement, I got to my hooves to follow him, leaving my book and half-eaten eclair behind.

        I had not been idle for the last day and a half. Although the had been either tight lipped or otherwise unable to tell me about our destination, they had made no attempt to hide any information that might help me find out for myself. Oh, they certainly hadn’t left any travel logs lying about where I could pick one up and browse it, but they had left the labels on all of the crates in the hold, and given me access, despite the area normally being off-limits on most freighters and passenger airships in the Hunting Ground and beyond.

        The smooth, wooden floorboards of the passageway creaked as I stepped from the chilled, dim expanse of the cargo hold. The waiting rating had gone a bit red in the face since he stepped out, perhaps from hearing my snort, and gave a quick, choppy nod as he saw me,  turning and scampering away towards the bow of the airship wordlessly, shooting glances over his shoulder once in a while to reassure himself that I was indeed following.

Illustrious Prophecy, the air freighter I had been sent off on, was an older model, and it bore the signs of its age with pride. Generations of ponies passage had worn through the original carpet, leaving only leaving hints of the fabric that was once as bright and blue as the azure skies it travelled through like some great whale. All that remained of the original, plush material was some threadbare scraps along the very edges of the passage, stained and faded from decades of service to my guild.

        Besides being old, the airship had never been designed to be very grand in the first place, unlike the ships of the other guilds. It was more of an air tramp than an actual freighter, of a size the Merchant Guild would sneer at. At such a small size, it did not take us long to reach the bridge hatch. My young guide, Silver Spanner, as the other crewponies called him, immediately stepped up to the bulkhead door and rapped upon it quietly three times, before easing it open, his muscles visibly straining against the breeze pushing the weight of it against him and whistling through the gap. After a moment, the wind abruptly cut off, and a few brief words were exchanged, too hushed for me to make out over the incessant background hum of the quad engines powering our humble vessel onwards.

        “You may enter the bridge now, ma’am” Silver said, turning back to me for a moment before rushing off, leaving me alone outside the hatch. I took a moment to compose myself, straightening my mane before stepping through into the bright, busy room. A few crewponies moved to and fro between weathered and worn instrument banks and consoles, keeping a careful watch on a large array of dials. In the midst of this small storm of organised chaos stood the captain, Iron Yoke, watching his crew, his family, through eyes brimming with love, care and pride. Weaving my way across the deck, I stopped at his side.

        “Beautiful, isn’t it, Miss Sparkle? The fluid grace of a crew so familiar and practiced with their jobs and each other that they work as well as a well-oiled machine, each of them a perfectly fitted cog meshing with those around them.” he said, sharing his thoughts unbidden without moving an inch to acknowledge my presence beside him physically. A silence stretched out between us for a few moments before I realised he was waiting for a reply. By the time I had a suitable response in mind, it was too late, his head tilting towards me as an eye turned to scrutinise me. I couldn’t help but feel I had failed some sort of test as he spoke up again, his eye turning back to look ahead of the airship. “Hmmm, yes, well, I suppose that’s not why I invited you here. “That,” he said, lifting a hoof and pointing at a dust cloud ahead on the darkening horizon, “is our destination. I think we’re far enough from the jurisdiction of Canterlot now for me to name Ponyville, but you probably knew that already. She’s currently headed away from us at about 80 kilometers an hour, and we’ve established contact with her aerodrome. We’ll reach her by sundown, they’ll be slowing just for us to anchor on them. You’re more than welcome to spend the night onboard, and get a full night’s kip.”

        I stood in thought for a moment, staring ahead at the ‘small’ traction-suburb. Ponyville... permanent population three hundred and eighty-five... mostly non-guild ponies. What’s there for me to do here? Even at this distance I can see there are no more airships... primary export is apples. I let out a small sigh, looking away from Ponyville on the horizon. “Thank you, captain. I think I’ll take you up on that offer, rather than risk getting lost at night.”

        The captain nodded, and a knock came from behind us before the hatch creaked open once more to admit Spark Welder, a look of slight befuddlement on the face of the azure unicorn. “You called for me, sir?” she asked, looking about the bridge curiously. Captain Yoke half-turned to address her, his voice gruff. “Yes, our port of call is in sight. We’ll be setting down later this evening, and we’ve received orders that you are to disembark immediately. Somepony will be waiting to take you to your new post.”

        Spark nodded, taking one last glance about the compartment, her eyes lingering on me for a moment, as if accusing me for her current place in life. “If that’s all, with your leave, captain?” she asked, her eyes moving from me to dart between Iron and the town in the distance.

        With another nod and a grunt from Iron Yoke, Spark Welder ducked back out of the compartment, no doubt headed back to whatever cabin she had squirreled herself away in for the majority of the journey.

        With everything done, I remained on the bridge for just a minute longer, admiring the view of the world below before making my own excuses and returning to the hold to collect my things. Well, almost all my things, I thought with a wry chuckle, the remainder of my eclair missing, a single pumice-coloured feather on my sitting box identifying the absent culprit. I picked up my book with a small trickle of magic, and returned to the room I shared with Angleberry.

        When we stepped from our room the following morning, the ship was quiet. The droning of the aero-engines was gone, replaced with the deeper, stronger hum of city engines in the distance, bringing me a comfort I hadn’t realised I had been missing for the last two days or so. The gondola swayed gently as it was buffeted by the wind travelling over the air harbour.

        Light shone in through dust-stained portholes as we moved down the passageway, Angleberry behind me, loaded down with our luggage as part of her standard duties. I hadn’t been comfortable with somepony doing all the menial work for me when I was first assigned my assistant, but she had been adamant about what her job entailed, even if she complained about it, like she was doing now.

        “Faust damn those lazy crewponies, making me carry everything...” she muttered testily, her steps heavy from the load of personal belongings on her back. I looked over my shoulder, giving her a sidelong glance. I had already offered to help carry our things before we even opened the hatch to leave our room, but she had been quite stubborn about the roles of her station, refusing to let me even carry any of my own things.

        On second thought, maybe I should just leave her to it as punishment for taking my eclair.

        Letting out a weary sigh, I continued down the passage, leading the way to the boarding gantry, and our new home for the foreseeable future. And what a sight it was! Missing were the white towers or the light-grey stone of Canterlot’s three tiers of buildings, in their place standing the wasteful and far more extravagant in their own way domiciles of vibrant colourations, thatched roofs and gardens of bright flowers.

        Of course, like any Librarian worth her salt, I had thoroughly researched every traction city with any historical link to my home city of Canterlot, but even all the books, with their mix of pictures, grainy to crystal clear and void-sharp, left me unprepared for the whirlwind of clashing colours before me, I only realised I was gaping like a little filly when Angleberry stopped alongside me, giggling at my expression. A suitably reproving glance set her straight, and I turned my attention to the bottom of the ramp as I made my way down.

        Rather than the guard or low-level bureaucrat I had been expecting to find waiting, there stood only a battered old motor-trolley for our things with a bored-looking brown earth pony stallion attending it. He looked up from his dog-eared newspaper at our approach, folding it and getting to his hooves. “Welcome to Ponyville, friends! I’m here to take your things to the local library branch,” he said, snickering slightly at an unshared joke, “I’ll take your helper with me to get everything settled whilst you go and report to Mayor Mare. Any questions?”

“Just one,” I replied, giving him a friendly smile, “Could you tell me where to find the mayor? I’m afraid in my rush to leave Canterlot, I wasn’t given any instructions or directions.”

He smiled back at me, a warm, genuine expression. “Of course. The mayor should be in the town hall, smack-bang in the middle of Ponyville. All main roads lead there, as does the river. If you see apple trees, you’ve gone too far.”

        With a brief word of thanks, we parted ways, the stallion and Angleberry heading off down a small road at a sedate pace, chatting amiably whilst I went towards a main road, passing by a motley collection of single and double-storey thatched-roofed houses, with flower boxes hanging from their window ledges. My senses were assaulted with the sights and smells of myriad varied flowers in bloom, lovingly tended by the looks of them.

        I had not been strolling long when my nose was beset by the most heavenly scent I had ever smelt. My head reflexively turned to find the source, tracking around until I beheld the most bizarre building I had yet seen, and would likely ever see.

        Before me stood what I can only describe as a monstrosity of baking. Two storeys of gingerbread house towered over me, roofed with frosting-edged chocolate that glistened in the morning rays, with an awning supported by dual candy-striped poles, and wedded to a tower of a further two storeys, looking for all the world like double-stacked cupcakes, with a trio of burning candles atop it all.

        It was from the open downstairs windows of this hodgepodge construction that the delightful scents emanated. Despite myself, I found my hooves turning me towards the door, and carrying me up the front steps, through the open doorway. The smells of baking intensified as I advanced on the front counter, many sugared treats on display beneath the glass. A gawky stallion smiled warmly at me from the other side. “Something caught your eye miss? I haven’t seen you around Sugarcube Corner before, so you must be new. Go ahead, pick something, anything you want, on the house as a sample! I guarantee you won’t find better.”

        I could hardly believe my ears or luck. Here I was, a complete stranger in a strange town, and I was being offered free food. This sort of charity was virtually unheard of back in Canterlot, where the majority of shop owners would turn their noses up at any pony who even looked like they couldn’t pay (as I had personally discovered once or twice. Those places never saw my business again). I eagerly stepped closer, running my eyes over the delectable tidbits, before turning my gaze upwards to meet the yellow stallion’s.

        “Are you sure?” I asked, a slight tone of hesitance in my voice.

        “Of course!” he responded cheerfully, the smile never leaving his face for a moment. “Please, I insist.”

        Five minutes and three triple-frosted cupcakes later, I was back on my way to the town hall again, though several bits poorer. Now that my stomach had been attended to, I was more easily able to process and ignore the worst of the assault on my senses, the smell of baking and flowers sinking back to a pleasant background level, enjoyable, but not overly enticing enough to distract me anymore.

        Birds were twittering peaceful melodies from the trees sparsely spaced about the town center as I trotted into the opening, a cool, comforting breeze blowing at the leaves, Several other ponies occupied the square, lounging in the shade of the trees, playing in the sun, or reclining by the small stream that meandered through the well-kept grass.

        And in the center of this idyllic scene stood an almost imposing three storey building, circular in construction with a surrounding deck of wood. Beside the main doors to the town hall stood a pair of stoic ceremonial guards in the colours of the merchant’s guild, the chief financiers of Ponyville’s creation.

 Surprisingly, the guards remained still at my approach, and allowed me to pass without so much as a word to slow me as I opened one of the doors with a small burst of magic.

        As I stepped into the heart of Ponyville, I was greeted by pleasant, modest wooden panelling, underscored by simple, ungilded banners of all five guilds, including to my surprise the oft-scorned Navigator’s green standard. I was staring up at the banners hanging around the circumference of the hall when I was started by a young, smartly dressed mare with a clipboard pinned to one foreleg sleeve, her mane tied back neatly.

        “Good morning, and welcome to Ponyville town hall. I don’t recognise your cutie mark from any of the local censuses, so you must be new. Are you being expected, here to inquire about moving to Ponyville, or just exploring?” she asked, barely seeming to stop for breath before adding “I’m Paper Swan, one of Mayor Mare’s aides and secretaries. Would you like a drink? I’m legally obliged to get you a drink if you’re thirsty. Or would you prefer an information pack for visitors?”

        I took a step back, nervously eyeing Paper for a moment before shaking my head. “Ah, no, that’s alright, I had a drink before I left the airshi-” I started to respond, before almost unexpectedly being cut off mid-sentence.

        “Oh, you’re from the Illustrious Prophecy? You must be the fancy new Librarian from Canterlot. Never been there myself, but the previous Librarian had all of these lovely photos, with the spires, and the waterfalls... oh, sorry. Assuming you are who I think you are, the Mayor is expecting you. Please, this way to the waiting room, then I’ll go and inform the Mare herself of your arrival.” she all but blurted out, seemingly untroubled with interrupting me, and heading off at a light trot without even waiting to confirm I was the pony she had assumed me to be.

        I had been waiting outside the Mayor’s office for about five minutes now, whilst raised voices sounded from beyond the sturdy oaken door, muffled just beyond recognition by the thick, solid wood.

        I tapped my forehooves together nervously as the raised voices reached a newer height, before abruptly cutting out, the doors creaking open without warning and a smiling, grey-maned mare trotted out, her eyes lighting upon seeing me waiting. “Ah, pardon my tardiness, I had an unscheduled meeting with the head engineer. Wish I could say it was to exchange pleasantries, but you know how it is when somepony smells the chance to get more bits and power... speaking of which, that’s exactly why you’re here. Thanks to your arrival, I don’t have to put up with anypony trying to advance the standing of their own guild anymore.”

        I got to my hooves, and mustered my most pleasant answering smile. “May I ask why that is, Mayor Mare? I’m afraid I was packed off with such haste that I wasn’t told why.”

        “Yes, that’s pretty typical of the main branches of the guilds, I’m afraid.” she said, her smile still in attendance, though seeming somewhat more whimsical. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your new position as Head Librarian for Ponyville. You come highly recommended.”