The Journey

The road seemed to continue on for ages with no landmarks . No buildings, not even a signpost, just endless rolling hills. I began thinking about my next course of action, Canterlot was no doubt the best place to go, but with no sort of formal Equestrian Education, no money,No place to live, nothing, and what would I do?  One idea stuck out in my mind, probably the only remotely viable option: Join the Royal Guard. I would have a place to stay, food, and receive some form of education, even in boot camp.

Thud........ Something cold and wet landed on my nose. I looked up, a grey sky was now occupying what had been a nearly cloudless sky, and I had not even noticed I was so deep in thought.

Slowly the rain picked up until it was a steady downpour. The previously dusty road had turned into a slew of mud. I continued walking, slightly slower with the mud clinging to my hooves.

It was decided, I would enlist in the Royal Guard, but what was I to do short term? Canterlot was still a long way off.

My thoughts were again interrupted, this time by the sound of hooves galloping on the slick road. I turned around to be confronted by a trio of guards pulling a carriage. As they neared I was able to make out a familiar figure sitting under the roof. A white unicorn with a yellow mane, and a bowtie, “Blueblood” I uttered as the carriage passed by, and as if it were some scripted event from a video game, the carriage hit a thick puddle of mud, splashing up onto me. “Сука! “I yelled despite the fact it wasn’t his fault.

I continued my walking, still nothing but rolling hills, but at least the rain was now just a steady drizzle, I had always enjoyed rainy days, sometimes even more so than sunny days. As darkness slowly fell upon the countryside, I finally saw something, a fence! At last, something!

I quickened to a trot as I followed the fence, it ran parallel along the road, until around a corner a small cottage came into view.  There was beside the cottage, what appeared to be a middle aged stallion, moving firewood from underneath a tarp. He was blue with a short, well groomed grey mane. Standing on the porch was a similarly aged, scarlet colored mare. As I approached the house, the scarlet mare turned in my direction. “Good day young sir” She said, her husband turned as well “Good day Traveler”, said he. ” Uhhhh, Errrr, Gooday to you too”, there was a brief moment of awkward silence as I stood before their little cottage in the waning light.

“May I offer to help you with that?” I said looking at the stallion who appeared to be struggling with the firewood. “Sure” as he lifted several with great strain. As I began to lift up several pieces and began to carry them back, he said “That will be enough to last the night”, then looked at me funny, “My Celestia son, you look like you bathed in mud”, “Do you have a place to stay?” asked his wife.  “Ummmm, not exactly” I said, “Well then, please, come on in” said the mare, gesturing politely toward to door.

I had never expected such hospitality, even in Equestria. I politely accepted, and was shown the way to the washroom. Finally able to look at myself in a real mirror, I saw what I had seen in the puddle, light brown teenage stallion, but this time, with matted hair and caked with mud. I tried my best to brush the now dry mud out of my coat and into the trashcan. I emerged looking at least semi-civilized.

It turned out the couple was about to sit down to dinner when I had first appeared and while I had been trying to brush myself off had been preparing for me to join them.I was offered a seat at the table and gratefully accepted.  The mare emerged from the kitchen with soup bowls and a platter of bread.  “I don’t believe you ever gave us your name” said the stallion as he said down and placed a napkin on his lap.  “It’s ummm…    Sergei”, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity as he took a sip of soup with a spoon. “Well Sergei, where do you come from?” said his wife now also sitting down. “Just a little further south”, not wanting to lie to the kind couple, “From Las Pegasus?”, “Not that far south” I replied, trying to stick to the truth as much as I could without sounding like a looney. “I am on my way to Canterlot, I have some business there” I said after finishing the last bit of soup (which seemed to be something not unlike plain noodle soup). The conversation continued or another 20 minutes, I was asked many questions, and tried to remain truthful, in turn I asked several questions and learned the two of them were just quiet farmers who had met early in life and lived on the farm for most of their lives.

At the end of dinner I decided to retire for the night, I was shown to a small guest room with a bed on it. I thanked them once more for their hospitality and said goodnight. The bed proved to be the most comfortable I had ever slept it, I must have fallen asleep within seconds.

For the second morning now I awoke to the sun shining warmly down, this time through a crack in the curtains. It was time to resume my journey, opening the door to the smell of waffle batter. I was offered a breakfast of waffles and eggs, I hungrily accepted. Once finished I thanked the couple for their hospitality once again and set off, waving to the couple on the front porch as I rounded a bend.

Turning to the road ahead I resumed my journey. After several minutes, I was able to make out the tips of mountains on the horizon; these must be the tips of the mountains Canterlot sits on. This sight inspired me and I quickened my pace and began humming various songs both pony and non-pony.

The road turned to cobble as I approached a small village near the foot of the mountain. Suddenly, everything was buzzing with activity, pegasi filled the air , moving to and fro on daily business, various vendors lined the street  in a small market. At the far end of the street a train could be heard as it pulled into the station. The smell of fresh bread filled the air, no doubt coming from a local bakery.

I was so distracted by the sights and smells I was again, almost run over by a cart. Much to my surprise, it was a cart full of apples, pulled by none other than Big Macintosh. It seemed as though he was delivering apples from the orchard to this small town at the foot of the mountain.

It would have been nice to stay for a bit and poke around and perhaps buy some food, but without money I could not do so. On the other side of the village, the paved road continued on for some time before taking a sharp turn and began winding up the mountain.  Most ponies took the train or simply flew to Canterlot, so the road was relatively empty. After 2 hours, the sun had begun to set and I was only a quarter of the way up. Street lamps helped provide a bit of light as well as reason to keep going. Finally I began to feel hungry, I had hardly noticed through my excitement, but now I was also beginning to feel fatigued, despite this I pressed forward.

At last the gate, towers, and building of the city came into view.  At this point, it was too late to go into the city, I would wait till morning. Unsure of a place to rest, I followed a small path that trailed off from the side of the road. After a 10 minute journey, the path ended on outlook overlooking the valley below. Through my fatigue I was able to take a brief look at the sleepy town that I had passed through earlier.

I lay down on a patch of grass and thought about what tomorrow might hold, yawning and saying aloud “Well I’ve made it this far, albeit with some help” smiling, thinking of the farmer couple who had been so kind.  Sleep was quick to find me as I lay under the cloudless star filled equestrian sky.