The Last of the Perytons

The bar was the almost empty. A few ponies remained, mainly the bartender and

three disgruntled customers, one of each pony tribe. They each sat on a stool, bartender included, each with their own drink.

The bartender sighed. “Will you three clear out? It’s close to midnight.” His voice was gruff and his brown coat was partially stained from either blood or wine. “Also, you’re eating me out of house and home.”

The orange pegasus, who was drinking from a small mug, shook her head. “No. It’s only about nine o’clock. Learn to tell the time. Also, we’re paying you, so you can’t qualify it as ‘eating you out of house and home.’” She took another sip of the mug, and then set it back on the counter. “Plus, I don’t think this fellow will be clearing out any time soon.” She nodded to the earth pony, who had so far cleared out several mugs of cider, and was snoring peacefully. His mustache fluttered slightly while he snored, but the comical effect was lost on the trio.

The bartender muttered something under his breath while glancing at the earth pony, then turned back towards the pegasus. “Why won’t you clear out then?” He asked. “There’s a party going on outside, so why aren’t you there?”

The pegasus opened her mouth to speak before the unicorn interrupted. “Are you going to be our bartender,” the white unicorn interrupted, or are you going to be our advisor?”

The bartender opened his mouth, then closed it, noticing the long sword that the unicorn carried. “Um… I’m going to be your bartender.” He then pulled out a dirty cloth and began wiping mugs with it.

The pegasus grimaced. “Are you going to serve drinks in that? Because I certainly don’t want to drink out of it.” She nodded towards it with her head, emphasizing her point.

The bartender shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Most of my customers forget to check. The ones that do don’t care.”

“Well,” the unicorn began. “I would certainly care. Does every bar in Trottingham have this terrible service? Because, if not, I’m going to the cleanest one around.”

The bartender shrugged. “If you want the cleanest one around then you’re in the right place.” He nodded to a rack of semi-dirty mugs. “The cleanest mugs at any restaurant, bar or hangout in all of Trottingham, that’s my pledge.”

The pegasus grimaced. “I guess I picked the wrong town for drinks, then.” She sipped again, and then grimaced even harder. “Did you have to tell me? Now I have a bad taste in my mouth.”

The bartender shrugged. “I just serve drinks. It isn’t my job to remove tastes from mouths.” He grinned, and then set the mug on the table. “Besides, you should see a doctor if you want that.” He then began cleaning the counter… with the same cloth that he had been using earlier.

The pegasus coughed cider all over her front in surprise. She soon started retching in an attempt to remove that taste. “That,” she said in the middle of a cough. “Explains… A lot, actually.” She frowned, using a wing to wipe her face. “Disgusting,” she muttered quietly.

The bartender smirked. “Not enjoying a stallion’s drink?”

“Seems more like a dead pony’s drink,” the pegasus muttered. She leaned back, glancing out the window. “Are you sure that you don’t have anything healthier than that? I lost my appetite, and I really don’t want to spend the next thirty minutes here doing nothing.”

The unicorn glared at her. “Why thirty minutes? Do you have anything specific? Also, your voice is annoying. It grates. ”

“My, my, you’re grumpy.”

The unicorn harrumphed. “No, I just can’t stand know-it-all pegasi.”

The pegasus shrugged. “There’s nothing you can really do about it though.”

The bartender, sensing a storm brewing, came an interrupted the pair. “Now, now, let’s talk about something else.”

“Fine.”

The unicorn shrugged. “As long as it keeps this…” He paused, fumbling for the right word. “Imbecile quiet I’m happy.” He shot a superior glance at the pegasus, who glared back at him.

The bartender nodded. “Very well. Let’s begin discussing.”

“Well… What do you want to discuss?”  She leaned against the wall, trying not the sip from her mug however tempting it was.

The bartender shrugged. “What brought you to Trottingham?”

The unicorn grunted. “Killing dragons.”

The pegasus snorted. “Dragons? You’re in the wrong place for that. What are you doing in the middle of Trottingham, the coldest town in Equestria? Only an idiot would-”

“Makes sense, actually,” the bartender interrupted. There are rumors of a rogue dragon in these parts. Ice one, from what I’ve heard.”

The pegasus dropped her mug in surprise, letting it fall from her hoof, strike the wooden floor, and splatter cider over her. “Urgh…” she muttered. “Idiot.” The unicorn glared at her, but she took no notice. “Great. It takes forever to clean these wings. Now I’m going to spend an eternity with fermented drinks covering my feathers.”

The bartender looked puzzled. “It isn’t that hard to clean your wings, is it?”

“Yes, yes it is.” The pegasus glanced out the window. “Well, it’s been a pleasure here.” She cast a few coins onto the bar before continuing. “But I have to go now.” She trotted towards the door, using a sticky wing to pull her cloak off the hooks by the door, slinging it over her shoulder. She then opened the door and stepped out into the alley.

The bartender glanced towards the door then turned back to look at the unicorn. “Do you want anything else…?”

The unicorn shook his head. “No.” He strode through the door, slamming it aside with his magic then slamming it shut as he walked out.

The bartender sighed. “Grumpy customers. Never good for business.” He glanced at the sleeping earth pony from over the bar. “Don’t suppose you want anything else?” The earth pony kept snoring.  The bartender sighed again, leaning against his kegs.

“That’s what I thought.”

The pegasus walked through the bustling streets of the city, glancing back and forth. Her gaze was determined and her eyes were cold. A cloak flapped around her, allowing her to move without being identified. Few ponies paid her any heed, and why should they? It was simply another pony in the large celebration of Discord’s defeat.

The pegasus turned towards a large building with a scroll on the door. She had a moment of indecision before striding towards it.  She swung the door open and took a deep breath once inside. “Quiet,” she whispered. “Sweet quiet.” She glanced back towards the door and then turned back towards the middle of the building. Shelves of books lined the building, reaching up to the ceiling. A few ponies were walking back and forth between the shelves, carrying books that interested them. However, for the most part, it was empty. “Seems that I found the right place,” the pegasus muttered. “Now to find the right thing.”

She walked through the rows of books, murmuring denials and anger as she walked. “No. No. Stupid book, wrong edition,” she growled. She continued her mutterings for some time, unable to find the object she was searching for.  She muttered a few choice curses, casting dark glances at the lines of shelves. “So… It isn’t in this area.”

She grimaced, then walked up to the front desk. “Pardon me…” She began.  “But do you know where-” “

“Must be deeper in the library,” the librarian interrupted, not even looking up from here book.

The pegasus turned towards the back, where hundreds of thick volumes resided. “So it’s back there?” She walked slowly towards the back, glancing back and forth in a paranoid sort of way. “Is anyone following me?” She whispered. “No. Good.”

Halfway to the back, she glanced back at the librarian, who continued reading. “Huh,” she remarked. “She’s really out of it.”

After she arrived at the shelves, she laughed. “So many books. You didn’t see things like this back in Gerald’s empire.” Her brown eyes twinkled with mirth. “That foolish griffon. He didn’t see what knowledge could bring.”

She grinned, glancing back at the shelves. “So… Where’s the book I want?  Is it here?” She glanced at one portion of the shelves, running a hoof down the list of titles. “Songs of Syrens, Blood of Battles, Hurricane’s Last Ride…” She paused at the last one. “Heh. The irony.” She shook her head, turning back towards the books.

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not what I’m here for.” She continued her search, pulling book after book off the shelves. Eventually a pile of books lay high, towering over the pegasus. She flipped another book off the shelf. “Urgh… Must be another useless book.” She glanced at the cover, more of habit than anything else. She tossed the book onto the pile, then realized what book she had grabbed.

“Wait!” She hissed, grabbing the book. “Just what I came for.” She turned to go, pulling her cloak, which was caught under a thick volume. “Stupid book.” She tugged harder, which dislodged her cloak, but also freed the heavy volume. She had a moment to realize that the pile she had stacked was loose before it landed on top of her. “Maybe I should have asked a librarian for help.” Then the books buried her.

The peryton landed roughly on the mountain rock. He rolled a few times, adding even more cuts and bruises to the ones that adorned his body, proof of the journey that he had made to arrive at the cliffs.

He grimaced, and then pulled himself to his hooves. “Well, they all say ‘no pain, no gain.’” He chuckled softly. “For what I desire, then I’ll have to endure a lot of pain.” He smiled, sparing a glance to the area around him.

“Ah, the Peryton Cliffs. My home.” He grinned maliciously, surveying the craggy rocks and dangerous pitfalls. “It’s been so long since I’ve been here. But, then again, I was banished.” He winced, the scar across his left eye seem all the more visible. “It wasn’t fair, being banished. Not that it matters now.”

He glanced upward at the giant mountain, its peak rising high into the air. “Yes,” he whispered reverently, licking his fangs with his tongue. “It has been so long since I’ve been here. Wonder how my family is.” He smiled a bit wistfully, as if he had missed his home and family.

A scream pulled him from “his pondering. The peryton paused, and then took a step backward. Another peryton, this one far younger than him, fell from the sky hit the ground in front of him with a crunch. The peryton paused to look down at the younger, who was moaning in pain. “You survived the fall. That’s big a surprise. Brigade usually throws them hard enough to kill them.” He grinned at the dying peryton as he realized who he was. “Stag. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

The younger peryton, Stag, glanced upward at his last chance for salvation. “Please… Help me.” One of his horns had completely snapped off, leaving his head with only one horn, which made his head lean to one side against the rough rocks, causing even more lacerations. “Whoever you are, help me.”

The peryton paused. For a moment, it looked like he might help Stag. Then he shook his head. “No. I don’t always agree with Brigade, but survival of the fittest is one of the few I agree with. That transcends even the blood of a relative. Farewell, Stag.”  He paused, and then spoke again. “On second thought, let me help send you away,” he hissed softly, bringing one of his hooves into the air.

Stag screamed in terror, finally recognizing the voice of who could have saved him. “No! Please, help me, Prong! Please!” Prong took no notice, bringing down his hoof onto Stag’s back, breaking several bones in the process.

Stag screamed once more, this time from pain as Prong began to walk up the mountain. “Prong! Don’t leave me like this! Please!” But Prong took no notice, leaving his brother to die on the hard rocks of the Peryton Cliffs.