Urania

“We left Canterlot, March twenty-first of last year. I can remember it clearly, because I have always been fond of the equinoxes, these special moments of the year where the day and the night tie in the never-ending contest they’re holding since the world began. I had assembled a team of five ponies: the geologist, whom I call Rocky – just a bad pun –, the geomorphologist, Sandy Dune, a biologist named Chromatin, a forensic physician – these guys have a knack to identify what’s wrong or strange even with the tiniest bone splinter –, let’s call him Bones, and a linguist and paleographer called Carolyn.

“You know, setting up such an expedition is no barrel of laughs; besides the ongoing scutwork, you have to enroll the necessary personnel, provision them for a period of two or three months just in case you end up in the middle of a desert, bring along the necessary camping tackle, pack the scientific tools, contraptions, chemicals, etc. you’ll be needing, buy and carry oodles of sheets, notebooks, quills and ink to write a diary or sketch what you see and find, not to mention cameras and films, various boxes to secure samples, and so on. In the end, each one of us turned out to be loaded with  quite a lot of luggage. But nothing unmanageable.

“The first three days were just fine: we travelled along the main road that links Canterlot to the Crystal empire; pretty busy, even though, now that the train connects both cities, the traffic has significantly slumped.

“As we were about midway, the third night, around the campfire, I disclosed our true destination to everypony.”

“And?” inquires Twilight.

“They were, at first, taken aback. But, quickly, they became very excited. The idea to go where nopony had gone before was a big doozy. Of course, you can figure out I did not mention that all memory would later be scraped from their brains. They’d probably have deserted!

“After that epiphanic night, we had to be extra cautious not to be spotted, which proved to be just barely feasible considering all the junk we were lugging. We left the main road and headed south using seldom trodden paths. We progressed at night, slinking either through these forgotten trails, or – when there were none – through wood and meadow. I suspect Luna somehow watched over us, because I recall catching a glimpse of her silhouette at the top of a hill we went around; Celestia had surely secretly bidden her to do so.

“We snuck like wraiths under the bright stars. Night travel is a blast! The stillness is such that you believe you’re alone in a deserted country. The air is fresh, you never sweat nor suffocate, even though you’ve been pulling a heavy load for hours. You smell the scent of the fresh grass the wheels trample on. In addition, I have always loved stargazing, beholding those shimmering lofty diamonds that beckon you from unfathomable distances. The Moon shines in the sky like a remote lighthouse; it swaddles the scenery in a dim, glimmering enchanted light, so softer than the crude light of the Sun. I envy our Princess of the night.

“During the day, we hid in thickets or forests. Thus, not only did we remain unseen, but the dimmed light of the underwoods allowed us to doze more deeply than is usually possible in an open field. We stood sentry to keep animals at bay and avoid any bad encounter. Every evening, during our ‘breakfast’, we chatted at length about what we expected to discover in this vast uncharted land, waiting for the darkness to lull the walking world into a profound and peaceful slumber.

“The twelfth day of our expedition – we were getting really near the border –, somewhat before dawn, we arrived on the brink of a small hollow, in the middle of which a neat farm was tucked. We were about to skirt around when Sandy Dune told us in wonder that she recognized this place. This was, she explained, the cottage of her great-uncle, a cranky and solitary farmer she had visited a lot when she was a filly, but whom she had not seen in years. She added she never knew he was living so close to Urania. After pondering for a while, she proposed we definitely stop there and ask her great-uncle if he would agree to let us rest in his barn.

“So we drooped, snoozed, and, with the first sign of dawn, Sandy Dune climbed down the slope. When she came back an hour later, she told us that her great-uncle was delighted to see her again and had warmly welcomed the idea of sheltering us during the day. We therefore harnessed ourselves to our carts and pulled ahead until we reached the lovely building. Standing before the front door was an old, brown-coated stern pony. We shook hooves and exchanged some greetings before he guided us to his barn when we unloaded our stuff. Then we sagged on a comfortable heap of hay he had prepared for us, and soon we had all fallen into a deep and dreamless slumber.

“It was almost dusk when we awoke. When we walked out of the barn, we found Sandy Dune and her great-uncle bantering in the yard. Both came towards us and invited us to proceed into the main building where dinner was about to be served. Indeed, as they spoke, a toothsome scent wafted around, remembering everypony how hungry we were. So, barely awoken, we shambled into the farm building.

“In the austere living room a large table had been dressed. A heap of logs was cracking and hissing in the fireplace as the leaping flames were scorching it away. Right above the hearth a wide cauldron was hanging, in which some kind of stew was simmering, filling all the room with a strong perfume of thyme and laurel. We sat, and Sandy Dune’s great uncle ladled out generous portions of that luscious dish into the roughly carved wooden bowls that had been laid on the table.

“We all ate in silence. When the last draft was over and everypony was eventually sated, the farmer descended into the cellar, whence he turned back with a crate full of golden juicy apples and a bottle of cider brandy, that he poured into each one’s glass. Then, sitting back, ‘So’, he begun in a harsh voice, ‘you’re heading to Urania, aren’t you?’

“‘That’s correct,’ I answered. ‘I suppose Sandy Dune told you about our mission while we were still asleep.’

“‘Yup! We talked a little about it,’ he nodded. ‘Oh! Don’t worry: I won’t inform on you. I’m growing old and weary, and seldom stir from farm these days. Nopony ever bothers to visit me either, so it will be as if you had never been there in the first place. Now, do you have any idea of what you’re going to find beyond the border?’

“‘Not the slightest one,’ I replied. ‘I just surmise we will find truly amazing relics. But it’s just a hunch. I cannot prove it, and it may turn out to be a huge letdown.’

“‘Did you hear about the rumors that surrounds this land?’

“‘Not much. I did a little bit of research in some of Equestria’s best libraries, but I failed to find anything really relevant. I suppose that you, living so close to the border, must have heard a large number of these stories.’

“‘Well,’ he says, pondering, ‘of course you can easily imagine that such a place is the perfect candidate for wild stories and legends. And indeed they are so many fancy stories floating around – about ghosts, monsters, freaks, ominous clouds, etc. – that I don’t count them anymore. Neither do I pretend to listen to each and every one. I think they are mostly told to younglings so that they later shun the area and do not trespass. But one legend stands out as more interesting as the others. I don’t pretend it is true – who could? – but it has always intrigued me. It is a sad and terrible tale.’

“He paused, slugged his brandy, then began: ‘It is said that in a very distant past, well before Celestia and Luna were born, ponies in Urania were living a free and frivolous life, gamboling in green fields, grazing rich grass and frolicking with each other under the Sun and the Moon. They were innocent and naïve, but happy. And it came to pass that a dark, cruel and ruthless wizard, whose arrival was untold of, established his stronghold thither; some say he was no other than the mentor of the future king Sombra himself. And he christened the land surrounding his dreary castle Urania after his own name, Uran. Using his black magic, he ensnared and enslaved all ponies that were living around. They became miserable thralls, fettered, starved, forced to work relentlessly in dank and somber vaults, in order to slake the wizard’s strange appetites. And it is also told that Uran conducted wicked experiments on some of the mares he was attracted to, and bred many a monstrous whelp that he then unleashed to maintain terror and desolation over the land he had claimed his.

“‘Now, one fateful night, this evil wizard began the most terrible experiment he had ever made. But something eventually went wrong: a formidable explosion shook all Equestria, killing him, shattering his castle and setting all the land around ablaze. Countless ponies perished while the fire raged and consumed the country for endless months. The smoke that soared so high darkened the air, obliterating the Sun. As a result, the temperatures slumped everywhere in Equestria, ushering the ice age in.

“‘But at last the flames were quenched and peace returned to the now seared and barren land. Overwhelmed with sorrow and grief, the few survivors roamed over the shambles to gather the remains of their former companions. When this awful task was completed, they randomly picked a place that the flames had spared and with all the bones they had picked up they made a great mound, in hope that the memory of their misfortune would never be forgotten. And they named this mound Tombhill. Thereafter, they ruled that nopony was to ever set foot again on this accursed land, lest some weird lingering magic would change him or her into another dark sorcerer. And thus was the ban established, which endures still.’

“‘It’s indeed a spooky story,’ I acknowledged, ‘and a interesting theory about the genesis of the ice age, but why does it intrigue you so much?’

“‘What do you think about magic?’ he asked in return.

“‘Magic must be somehow backed by physical laws. There can’t be creation, change or destruction of matter without energy and forces. Unicorns will lose their monopoly, eventually.’

“‘Are you jealous?’ tittered Bones, the doctor, himself a unicorn.

“‘Bones, don’t be silly! In addition, the only magic you seem able to evoke has to do with bone mending. Nothing to brag about!’ I responded with a smirk.

“‘I understand your point,’ the farmer commented. ‘I don’t care much about magic either, simply because I grow my garden and fields without any such help. We peasants are tied to the ground, you see? Anyway, back to the story. What’s puzzling me is that, not far from here, one can indeed find a knoll named Tombhill. And that knoll is weird, because it stands isolated in the midst of a vast plateau. On the far side of it meanders a small but deep brook, whose oxbows mark the border of Urania. The forbidden land stretches right on the other bank, though no sign or warning will ever tell you so.

“‘Now this knoll is a great point of view on the rim of Urania. I used to climb it when I was a young colt, and, once I arrived at the top, I dawdled lazily, contemplating the landscape. The land beyond the river is no different from this one. Meads spread to the horizon; birds fly blithely over. In the distance, however, the view is barred by a ridge and what is tucked beyond is forever hidden. Rumor has it that if you heave yourself atop of the hill on a clear moonless night, and if your eyes are keen enough, you can make out this ridge over a faint glowing background, as if something beyond it was somehow glimmering. But I never dared do it myself: staying at night on the top a hill whose history is obscure was kind of creepy.’

“‘Are you afraid of ghosts?’ I joked.

“‘No, I don’t believe in ghosts, spirits or specters. That’s for children or featherbrains. But… you know, you would not eat nor sleep on a tomb, would you?’

“‘I see what you mean. But, as an archaeologist, I can assure you that many houses, especially in big cities, were built over stockpiles of bones. Naturally, their owners are totally unaware of this, and they live their lives peacefully, without ever being disturbed by ghosts. Bones or chalk, what’s the difference once buried?’

“‘Well it’s a matter of respect I guess. We’re not in the same business: Yours is to dig up these bones and analyze them; I have no business with skulls, so I guess I better leave them alone. But I highly recommend you to climb this mound, be it only to have a bird’s eye view on what you should expect for the few next days.’

“‘We certainly will,’  I opined.

“‘Good. Now I suggest you stay here tomorrow, have some rest, and try to shift back to day travel. The land between here and Tombhill is a woody mire, with lots of pits and bogs. Although it’s not dangerous, you’ll have to plod through it, and that’s no fun by night. You really want to cross it by day.’

“I thanked him for his hospitality and kindness, and it was decided we would remain one more day. He seemed satisfied, bade us good night and left. We retreated in the barn, and resolved to seize this unexpected opportunity to double-check our stuff and see if everything was in good working order.

“I was checking one of the camera lenses when Rocky nudged me.

“‘Have a look here,’ he said, holding a map. ‘Aren’t we supposed to be around that spot?’

“I glanced at the map, trying to identify the quad he was showing me. ‘I guess you’re right, why?’ I asked.

“‘Because there is no mention of buildings or even a hollow in this area!’ he responded.

“I took the map and gazed more intently. Indeed, at the very place where the farm should have been depicted, there was just a large uniform green area indicative of a grassy plain, but no trace of a building or even a depression.

“‘I see nothing to marvel at. It’s just some sort of mistake or omission,’ I commented bluntly.

“‘Hmmm… That’s weird. I have a good friend who works in Equestria’s survey team. I know from him that the borders of Urania have recently been charted anew after a thorough survey, both terrestrial and aerial. And…’ he pointed at the legend, that bore yesteryear’s date, ‘This is the last edition, taking into account all data derived from this campaign. They could not possibly miss the cottage and its surrounding topography. Especially since the neighboring wood and this Tombhill are correctly represented.’

“‘They must be less meticulous than you’ve been led to believe. Small errors frequently creep even into the best maps, despite all the care with which they are designed.’

“‘Maybe, maybe,’ he mumbled, evidently not convinced. He then walked away and busied himself with something else.

“We decided to go to sleep earlier than usual, and awoke around noon. The next day we mainly passed sizzling in the blazing sunlight of this early spring, helping Sandy Dune’s great-uncle with some of his chores. Dinner was sober, we talked for the most part about Equestria and Canterlot’s lifestyle. Locked away in his cottage, our host was eager to learn what was happening elsewhere in the world. We then went to sleep again and the next morning by 8 a.m we were ready to leave. The farmer welcomed us at the edge of the yard for the last goodbye.

“‘Go this way,’ he indicated, waving towards the East. ‘When you reach the wood, you’ll see a small but well marked trail winding through the trees. Follow it, and don’t stray, for fear you find yourself stuck in muddy grounds. On the other edge of the wood there is a wide plateau; Tombhill will be right in front of you. You can’t miss it. Now… good luck and farewell! And please take care of my great-niece!’

“‘Will do. Bye bye and thanks again for your hospitality!’ I replied, harnessing my cart and beginning to pull in the direction the old guy showed.

⁂

“We soon passed under the first trees, and immediately found the aforementioned path. Lugging the heavy carts over the soft ground turned out to be slow and exhausting, and though the wood was neither thick nor large, it took us eight solid hours before we emerged on the other side. We were standing on the border of a large grassy plateau, and directly ahead was the famous Tombhill we had heard so much of: a moderately tall butte, covered in grass and shrubs.

“‘What do we do now? Follow the hick’s advice?’ asked Carloyn.

“‘Don’t be rude with him,’ I replied, ‘he’s quite a nice guy after all. Yep, let’s climb and have a look.’

“We let the carts at the foot of the hill, and scaled to the top. This was indeed a gorgeous natural belvedere. A small brook was gaily streaming below, and on its far side, a wild prairie extended up to the horizon which was, as the farmer has told us, blotted out by a line of remote high grounds. It was hard to figure out this could be the outskirts of a prohibited country. And yet.

“I drew out a pair of binoculars and tried to peer at that distant ridge, but it was too far away to make out any further detail. The image was wavering and fuzzy. However, just before I gave up trying, I caught a glimpse of a bright flash, as of some metallic object reflecting the light of the sun. By the time I looked again, it was gone.

“‘Did you see something?’ asked Sandy Dune.

“‘No. Only grass and shrubs and saplings. Nothing more. The hills are too far away and the diurnal convection blurs the image. We’ll have to get nearer if we want a clearer view, or maybe wait for the night chill’s to calm the air.’

“‘Isn’t there something that strikes you as odd?’ she added.

“‘Er… What do you mean?’ I answered, baffled.

“‘As far as I can see, there are no woods or forests or even thickets in this part of Urania. Just grass, shrubs and small trees. Isn’t it strange? This plateau spreads on both banks of this small river. Ergo, the landscape should be the same over there. That’s something we should investigate.’

“‘What do you suggest?’

“‘Nothing at this point. I’m just stating a fact. Later, when we’ll be farther, maybe.’

“‘Noted. I, on my side, suggest that we sleep right here.’

“‘You really want us to spend the night in this place?’ Carolyn exclaimed in bewilderment.

“‘Why not? Isn’t it peaceful? Nobody will bother us here, our carts are safe, we enjoy a beautiful point of view. Who could have dreamt of a more convenient place for a last rest before embarking for the unknown?’

“‘I don’t like this hill,’ confessed Carolyn.

“‘Why?’

“‘It gives me the creeps.’

“‘My dear, you have let the legend work you up. Relax. Unwind. That’s just an old folk tale.’

“‘Often legends are rooted in truth,’ she retorted. ‘If we must stay, I will, but I don’t feel comfortable.’

“‘You’ve to overcome your fears. Otherwise, you’ll feel queasy each time we will stop in Urania, which would be just unbearable. It’s essential nobody fret for freaking flimsy reasons. Okay? Well, for tonight, so be it. We’ll sleep down below. It doesn’t matter.’

“She sighed in relief. We lingered a bit more in the grass, enjoying the evening spectacle: high above the ground, feathery clouds blazed in the sunset; the sky had transformed into a lofty battleground where crimson, ultramarine and garnet hues were vying mercilessly to conquer each other’s territory. Eventually, dusk settled this silent wrestle, daubing the heavenly vault with a large dark blue splotch. When the first stars came out, we climbed down. After a short dinner, everybody found himself more tired than he thought, and we were soon asleep.

⁂

“I awoke in the middle of night with a strange feeling of uneasiness. I stirred, then looked around, but everything was peaceful. Everypony else was lying sprawled on the ground, breathing regularly. I raised my eyes: for the first time since the beginning of our trek, the sky was cloudy; dark and threatening clouds were scudding by. The Moon and the stars had disappeared.

“I decided to head uphill again, just to check if that remote ridge could indeed be discerned even by night. I groped for the binoculars, seized a lamp, then snuck out of the camp and went up. Arriving atop the hill, I switched the lamp off, put the binoculars on and pointed them at Urania. Bemused, I indeed beheld what the farmer has told us: over the distant ridge, a flickering, ghostly, yellow light was faintly glowing.

“I was stuck in awe when abruptly I sensed a breath on my back. I jerked and turned around, stifling a cry. It was Carolyn.

“‘I couldn’t sleep and saw you leaving’, she explained. ‘Sorry if I startled you. Did you see anything this time?’

“‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘There is definitely something faintly glowing beyond that ridge. It’s eerie.’

“She pondered awhile. ‘Do you think we’ll make it?’ she murmured.

“I tried to reassure her. ‘I don’t pretend there’s absolutely no danger. But if we’re careful enough and stick together, I don’t think anything can go wrong. We are well equipped. We must be plucky.’

“‘Will you always be there to guide us?’

“I kept silent. She drew herself nearer. I realized that she was shuddering, so I reached out my hoof and fondled her mane.

“‘Yeah, I promise I will,’ I said softly. ‘I will take care of you.’

“‘Thank you,’ she answered, before snuggling against me.

“I suddenly lost any interest in that remote ridge, and— ”

“You don’t have to tell me that!” bellows Twilight. “I know very well what comes next!”

“Oops. Sorry my dear, I think I got a bit carried away,” Dark Wing apologizes. “But nothing comes next. We just nestled and slept right through the morning.”

“You lie! I’m not interested in your sexual feats,” she insists angrily. “I know you have dozens of mares whose intimate pictures are pinned in your personal album. So what? You want to know? That’s why I never accepted to have an affair with you, because I never wanted to end up as a mere additional name on your trophy list.”

“Chill out, my sweet purple bookworm! I understand what you feel. But it has never been the same with you. I know you won’t believe it, and appearances stand against me too, but I really was in love with you. And, in a way, I still am. I mean it. That’s something I never felt with any other girl.”

“Basically, what you’re trying to put across is that you’re only interested in mares to satisfy your lust. That’s what I’ve always suspected.”

“Nooo! That’s gross. Were it true, I would just hire a… well, you see… when I feel a urgent need and slake it, period. No, I did actually care for every mare I… slept with. But it has never reached the intense attraction I was feeling towards you. If you had said yes, I’m positive I’d have been faithful. Just because you’re the most wonderful, gifted and talented girl I ever met, Twilight. I was really willing to forsake my lechery.”

“And how was I supposed to believe in that? It sounds so glib and schmalzy: ‘My precious Twilight, my sweet purple bookworm, my cherished amethyst, my talented gifted unbelievably smart filly, I love you so much. I will give up playing around, I promise, trust me. Meanwhile please come here and be docile and move your tail out of the way and let yourself be…’ Yuck! Makes me almost throw up!”

“No, Twi’, no, you’re harsh and gratuitously cruel. It wasn’t that way. I was honest. I really was. We just somehow blew the opportunity. But how could it be different? You were so wary… so reluctant to get involved, so stiff. All that mattered to you was your studies and your books. Nothing else had any importance to your eyes, and the affection of your archaeology teacher less still. I botched it up. And I paid dearly for it.”

“How?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I was raked over the coals by your mentor. Guess what? I had attempted to grope her sweet protégée, the very best student she had ever known, la crème de la crème. I was almost fired. I had to redeem myself, and I can promise you it was not pleasant. I even thought about suicide.”

“What? Really? I didn’t know,” blurts Twilight shaken. “It was none of Celestia’s business, after all. I was old enough to deal with it. She shouldn’t have done that.”

“But she did, nevertheless. And there are plenty of things you don’t know, my dear little royalty. With time, you’ll learn.”