Sunlight, Moonlight, Love, and Friendship

Chapter 2: A Train.

Big Heart walked with the map levitating in front of her. They’d left the mountains behind yesterday and should be coming across the old rail lines sometime today or tomorrow. Not for the first time Big Heart wished her map wasn’t so old and faded, it made it hard to read.

She looked up for a moment to check on her charge; Trotter was walking by scuffing his hooves to make little clouds of dust rise up. They did need to find water soon but the issue wasn’t urgent, not yet anyway. The lack of food was more worrying, as the mountains had run out two days ago and the pickings had been slim beforehand.

Now might actually be a good time to do some foraging. The Sun was entering the Setting portion of the sky and if her internal clock was right it was past noon. They needed to find food and water before they both starved.

“Trotter, stay where I can see you. It’s time to forage.” She announced, putting away the map. He beamed and scurried to the trees nearby, searching for any fruit bearing ones or any edible grass. Most of what was there had been sunburned, but at least it was filling. Big Heart filled her bag with the edible grass and the few posies growing in the shade, anything for a little flavor. Trotter was a lot less picky about his food when he thought there was plenty of it.

He was a good colt though, always making sure to stay in sight and not wandering off like she’d heard foals were apt to do. She didn’t have much experience with foals before him though, so she didn’t know if that was a true generalization or just an old mare’s tail. The only foals she’d ever interacted with before belonged to the herds her parents sometimes came across. Not many ponies kept a nomadic life style once they had a foal, most settled down until their foal was big enough to go with them, or else they left the foals in the care of a Herd Master.

Big Heart hummed in thought. She’d been travelling on her own since her parents died because she knew that once she joined a herd they’d expect her to follow their rules, and she hadn’t been keen on being constrained in where she could go and when.

'But Herds usually have more food, and they can fight together against predators. Trotter would be safe.' She had no intention of abandoning him to a herd either, so she’d have to make the commitment to stay too. Depending on what sort of herd they landed in they might not be allowed to leave again until they were both grown ups.

Big Heart could probably fudge her age, she was big for her age and still growing, but Trotter was practically still a foal. It’d be years before she could travel again.

She’d have to think long and hard about it. Previously she’d only stayed with a herd for a night or two with her parents, and not all herds were created equal. It was very possible to wind up in a herd with a bad herd master.

Herds were relatively lax though, at least compared to Stables.

She’d never stayed in a stable though, not even over night. Quick Silver had described Stables as places where ponies were sometimes held against their will. Like prisons from the old days except the ponies inside had done nothing to warrant such punishment. The ponies were forced to work for as long as there was light to work by, and with the aid of magic that was a long time indeed.

Diamond Dogs had established the Stables as safe havens for ponies who wanted protection from the predators of the outside world. They slaved away underground, but they had stone fortresses on the surface where any unwary pony, or any pony sick of the danger, could be captured and brought inside.

No, she didn’t care how dangerous the surface world was she was never going to force Trotter to work underground for the rest of his life! She’d sooner become a Herd Maker than that!

Big Heart shook away the unpleasant thoughts, sought out her charge again to find him carrying over several pears, and decided to think more objectively about the herds later, at story time. It was amazing how teaching Trotter ended up teaching her a lot more.

The pears were a delicious treat and Big Heart wrapped up some seeds, just in case. Bellies and saddle bags full, she cleared her throat for the start of another story.

“After the Fall of the Princesses, Equestria became a much more dangerous place. Predators swamped the settled areas, infestations of strange creatures devastated crops, it was a dark time for Equestria.” She began solemnly.

“But there was hope. One Mare stood up and decreed that since the old way had failed us, perhaps it was time for ponies to give an old solution a try.” Big Heart did not know that pony’s name. It might be that such a pony had never existed except for the purposes of the story, but she wasn’t going to let something like that stop her. “She suggested a return to the Herds of the Pre-Tribe era.”

“I’ve heard of them but I’ve never seen one.” Trotter informed her.

“Well, a Herd works on a simple hierarchy. The Herd Master is at the top and a new master is voted for when the old one either dies or retires.” She explained. “Herds travel slowly across the land, occasionally meeting up for trading.”

“The Herd Master decides where they’re going to go, how to defend against predators, and who gets to join the herd. The next step on the hierarchy are the Herd Makers.” She paused and stared at him quizzically. Was he too young for this? But he’d have to know if they decided to go to a herd. She pressed on.

“Herd Makers are responsible for adding more herd members by having foals. There’s usually five or six of them in any herd.” If he understood the implications of such a thing he did not say a word.

“Below them are the Guards ponies, who guard against the predators and bandits that might attack. Finally there’s the Foraging ponies, the ones who gather food and water for the whole herd.” She took a deep breath and surveyed their surroundings, the peaceful sounds of nature’s music assured her that all was well.

“None of them are really treated as if they’re better or worse than any other pony, but some of them have strict rules and things and all of them pay close attention to bloodlines.” Kind of like the nobles she used to read about.

“The Herds are a good idea for the most part, they keep ponies safe and fed.” She snorted as she considered how they did that. Part of the reason they were so short on food was because a herd had passed this way a year or more ago and the land hadn’t recovered yet.

“Someone looked at the model for herds and decided to take it one step farther by building something called a Stable. The one who created the idea was a Diamond Dog and the idea is that the ponies would be protected by the diamond dogs underground in exchange for digging up jewels.” She remembered the sapphires in her bag and knew they would never be enough if found by diamond dogs.

“I’ve never been to one but my father told me that they’re dark places filled with disease, the ponies are worked until they collapse, treated like slaves.” She felt Trotter shudder against her side and gently nuzzled him.

“They sound scary, why would anypony go there?” He asked.

“Sometimes they’re more afraid of the things on the surface than what they’ll find underground, but sometimes the diamond dogs will come up and snatch a pony away to add them to the mines. That’s one of the reasons I always want you where I can see you.” She warned him. He nodded eagerly, picturing mongrels made of teeth and slobber that howled.

“I know sometimes what I tell you sounds scary,” She said softly. “But I want you to know that I will do everything I can to keep you safe, no matter what.”

“Because that’s what big ponies do.” He smiled, repeating her credo.

“That’s right!” She nodded in satisfaction. “Big ponies look after the little ponies, someday when you’re big you might have to take care of a little pony and the things I’m trying to teach you will help you do that.”

“Stories?” He frowned.

“I read somewhere that all stories have a bit of truth in them.” She considered this and some mare’s tales she’d read as a foal. “The good ones do anyway.”

“They teach foals lessons like the importance of harmony and the history of the world. If we didn’t know our history then it would happen all over again someday to some other pony.” She explained.

“Oh.” He frowned and thought about that, furrowing his brows and sticking his tongue out adorably. “How’d you learn so much, Big Heart?”

“I read stories in the old books. My parents taught me and all the ruined towns I’ve been to have a library somewhere.” She told him. “Next time we hit a town I’ll teach you how to read and write too.”

“Okay.” He agreed easily. “Can we play now?”

Big Heart groaned and shoved the colt off her. She’d been trying to have a super serious conversation with him and he goes and ruins it by wanting to play.

Trotter just laughed and took off at a gallop, already knowing that Big Heart was only a hoofbeat behind him.

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They find the train tracks during their run and follow them southward. The tracks are covered in grass and debris from years of neglect and when both were tired and just looking for a good spot to bed down they stumbled across an actual train, frozen in time.

“It looks scary.” Trotter shivered, hunched down beside her. It did look kind of scary, Big Heart reasoned. Encroaching vines had entangled it and it looked like it was rusted into place. She wasn’t too shy to admit that she didn’t like the idea of staying inside it for any length of time.

Ba-boom! CRASH!

Unfortunately, she liked the idea of being rained on even less.

“It’s this or getting sick.” She decided out loud. Together they trudged towards the train, forcing open one of the doors to get inside.

Somepony had been there before them. The seats were well worn and hoofprints had been left in the dust. Big Heart studied the prints but couldn’t tell how old they were. Besides it didn’t matter, she and Trotter would just stay in this end car and get a little sleep.

Trotter was worn out from running and playing but though she felt exhausted Big Heart couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She huddled close to Trotter, keeping him between her and the back of the seat where it was warmest and safest. It was probably all those stories she’d read that made her think the train was haunted.

It wasn’t. That was silly. Ghosts don’t exist. She told herself that over and over again. She was a big pony and she wasn’t going to stay up forever shaking in her hooves because of an old mare’s tale!

She wished they had a bit more water. She was thirsty but couldn’t justify drinking their supply until she could get it refilled from the rain. That was going to take a while because they didn’t have a bucket or even a bowl for the water to drip into, only their canteens. She could walk outside and stand with her mouth open, of course.

But that would mean leaving Trotter in a possibly haunted train car all by himself.

‘Oh, this is silly!’ She snorted. She was absolutely not afraid of ghosts because ghosts don’t exist and even if they did she wouldn’t be afraid of them! She was a big pony and big ponies could walk outside to get a drink!

Filled with courage she carefully stood up, making sure Trotter would not wake up and notice her absence right away. Just to make him feel better in case he did wake up while she was gone, she left all their supplies right next to him so he wouldn’t think she’d abandoned him.

‘I’m only getting a drink.’ She reassured herself as she stepped out into the downpour. It felt surprisingly good on her coat. Big Heart hummed and tried to remember the last time she’d bathed. She knew it had been a while though because she could see mud dripping off her flanks from the dirt and dust that was being washed away.

Irrationally irritated by the dirt on her Big Heart groomed her fur. The downpour was strong enough to get the surface dirt off and Big Heart was adept enough at grooming to remove the deeper layers with her teeth. By the time the water dripped clear she felt much better, and coincidentally was no longer thirsty.

‘There. Nothing bad happened.’ She thought with satisfaction as she turned around to get back on board the train.

‘…Is it…Moving?’ She stared in wonder. It was slowly and the whole thing was groaning in protest, but it was movement and even as she thought those words she could see it was picking up momentum. ‘The train is moving…Huh…Imagine that.’

“TROTTER!” She screamed, emotion finally catching up with cool logic. She took off at a gallop following the train as it picked up speed. “Trotter, wake up!”

She heard his confused little scream before glass crashed and she realized he’d bucked a window. She was so proud of him but he was a foal and those windows were magically enchanted to be near unbreakable. Only age and neglect had weakened the spells enough for him to do any damage at all.

He poked his head out and found her pounding after the train.

“The door’s shut!” He yelled in panic and she could see the whites of his eyes even from here! Oh this is not good!

“Don’t worry! I’m coming!” She panted, adding an extra burst of speed.

“AAAAAHHHH!” She saw Trotter’s head get pulled back through the window.

“Trotter! I’m coming!” She screamed helplessly as the distance grew greater! “Hold on!”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Coming….I’m coming.” She wheezed. The train wasn’t in sight but she could still see the smoke coming out of it. She knew that would soon fade, knew she had to, she just had to, pick up the pace or she’d lose him!

Big Heart coughed, harsh and dry. The rain had passed an hour ago and she was dearly wishing she’d spent more time drinking and less time cleaning. Actually she wished she’d never gotten off the train at all.

“Trotter.” She whimpered. He must be scared. She hoped he didn’t think she’d left him on purpose. She’d only meant to be gone for a few minutes!

Big Heart tripped and sprawled across the tracks. These ones were cleared of debris, a sure sign that the train had passed through here. At least that much was going for her when everything else was going to Tartarus.

‘Have to get up.’ She knew it. She took a deep breath and tried to stand. Every part of her was screaming in pain though and her sides were lathered with sweat. She still hadn’t caught her breath and Big Heart had always prized herself on her physical endurance.

She couldn’t see the smoke trail anymore. Trotter could’ve been miles away.

And worse, she’d left him at the mercy of ghost ponies. What would they do to a helpless foal? She couldn’t remember at the moment what ghosts did to their victims but she bet it wasn’t anything good.

“Get. The buck. Up!” She ordered her body. It obeyed, shaky as a newborn foal. Slowly she forced her hooves to plod after the ghostly foalnappers, dreams of vengeance her only fuel.

She ate the grass that grew between the tracks and took water from puddles, keeping a solid but slow pace. There was an intersection that popped up some hours into the chase but she could tell by the condition of the tracks that the foalnappers had gone southwest instead of continuing east. Big Heart allowed herself one brief moment of fatigue before forcing herself to march on.

Eventually she reached a place where the exhaustion was a dull ache somewhere inside, probably in the stomach. Big Heart was afraid that if she stopped for even a moment she wouldn’t be able to get back up again. She’d just lay on the tracks until the next ghost train came through and ran her over. Unwilling to let her mortal coils rest she forged onward.

She was a big pony. She was a big pony who was supposed to be taking care of a little pony. Big ponies take care of little ponies!

Every time she thought of stopping, of giving up, she thought that. She thought about her parents, about her dad who’d faced a manticore all alone for a filly he didn’t know. About the mom that once carried both Big Heart and Quick Silver when deadly fever had them and only unicorns could help. She thought of brave acts in story books where the heroes were dead tired and hurt but they never stopped because stopping meant abandoning a fellow pony.

One cycle, then two, she kept walking. The water in the puddles dried up and the grass grew sparser as the tracks turned south. Where were they taking him? Had Trotter run out of food or water yet? Did they let him have bathroom breaks or give him time to play and just be a foal for a little while? Did they hurt him? Was he scared? Did he think she wasn’t coming, that she wasn’t doing everything in her power to find those responsible for their separation and make them pay?

Big ponies look after little ponies.

Finally there comes a time when even sheer bullheaded stubbornness must give way. Big Heart fell and found herself unable to rise, unable even to recall why she was putting her body through such torment. If she’d been in her right mind and not completely swamped with panic and pain she might have noticed the fever sweeping through her body or the weight that fell from her bones like water, but she did not notice.

She did not notice anything at all for she was blissfully asleep.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

When she awoke again it was to pain and thirst like no other. The pain was bad, yes, but the thirst nearly startled her into crying. Not true tears, she was far too dehydrated for that, but dry sobs that would have wracked her body and stolen the last vestiges of strength she had.

Dizzy and thirsty she stumbled to her hooves and cast about for water. Her hooves and some bone deep earth pony sense said to walk forward so she did and eventually came to water. It was a river that ran swift and cool. Big Heart drank weakly, too exhausted for the guzzling she so craved but it was mercifully easy on her stomach.

She slept again, only waking briefly to drink some more or to move her wings so they shielded her sensitive eyes from the harsh glares of the sun.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Somewhere on the tracks just south of White Tail Woods there was a peculiar young mare laying prone by the riverbed. Her fur was a dull, unappealing orange streaked by sweat and dust so one could hardly tell its true color. Her mane and tail, both bright and unforgiving red, were hopelessly knotted. She had a Destiny Mark on her flank, an iron shield with a pink heart that no dust or sweat could hide.

She had thick, muscled legs, well developed for endurance and strength. Earth pony legs, some called them. She had a horn spiraling from her forehead, though in her restless sleep it never truly sparked. A unicorn’s horn, anypony would say. She had two wings, each the same orange as her body and covered in downy feathers. Pegasus wings, though sadly with crooked feathers.

This pony had suffered a terrible fever but it had passed. She had suffered a similar fever when she was just a foal, though she did not recall it she did recall a bitter taste on her tongue and stomach cramps she thought would kill her. In truth she’d had another fever at ten, but she was hardly the same small foal and at that time she’d been whisked away for treatment. So this was only the second life-threatening illness she’d caught.

Not that any of this truly mattered. What mattered was that the young mare was awake now.

‘How long was I asleep?’ She wondered. It felt like years. Every bone and muscle in her body felt stiff and cramped.

‘Hmm. Can’t hear Trotter.’ Was her next though, along with some idle musings that he was either still asleep or he’d disobeyed her and finally wandered off. Big Heart wasn’t too worried. He was a responsible colt.

‘These tracks are uncomfortable.’ She grimaced, wriggling to find a more comfortable position. Something about the tracks tickled at the back of her mind. They were, what? Rusted? Oh yes, she knew they were rusted without even opening her eyes. They were something else? Hmm, well, they were clear she knew that much. Kind of weird that nature hadn’t stolen them back yet.

‘Wait…Clear, tracks? Can’t hear Trotter.’ Big Heart forced crusted eyes open. She was alone on the tracks next to a river.

“Trotter!” She cried, memories flooding back. Oh Celestia, how long had she been lying there? Who knew how far away the foalnappers were now! She had to find him and save him and then tie him to her side with a length of rope so this never happened again!

Ready and determined to resume the chase, Big Heart reared back to prepare a charge.

And promptly overbalanced and landed on her back, pinning the wings she hadn’t noticed to the ground beneath her.

Her first memory had the shine old memories always did. It skipped little details and made Quick Silver and Drizzle seem bigger than life and she couldn’t remember if she actually had eaten an apple on Drizzle’s back or if her mind had only added that part later. She’d always been half-certain that she’d been an earth pony at birth, but half of her had been certain that was just a dream. Ponies just didn’t grow horns randomly.

They didn’t grow wings either. Which meant the memory was less dream than she’d thought.

Alicorn, her mind supplied. A pony with traits from all three tribes, the strength of an earth pony, the wings of a Pegasus, and the horn of a unicorn, that was an alicorn.

Alicorns are immortal. Alicorns are powerful. Alicorns are princesses.

Big Heart wasn’t sure when exactly her life had become one of her stories (She suspected it started when she grew the horn though) but it didn’t matter. Wings mattered, because that meant she could theoretically fly, but nothing else did. Trotter was still missing and getting further by the minute.

‘So…flying…How do I do that?’ She looked at the wings hanging onto her sides. They were a weight she was unaccustomed to. If she reared onto her hind legs they flared out without her consent, it was like having an extra pair of shoulders.

Tentatively, she flapped them, trying to angle them as she’d seen Quick Silver and Drizzle do a million times before. You didn’t watch two ponies do it for most of your life without picking up a few things by osmosis.

Like the fact most of her feathers were horribly out of alignment and trying to fly like that would mean crashing more than distance-making. She grumbled at the forced delay and set about grooming them as she’d once groomed her father’s wings. He had a hard time getting to them himself since he couldn’t balance with both hind legs so either Drizzle or Big Heart would do it for him.

It was a bit harder to do when she was the one craning her neck around and she could now understand why he’d had such a hard time with only three legs. She managed though, and this time when she flapped her wings they didn’t feel like the feathers were poking her.

Beating them as one was surprisingly tricky. They were separate appendages after all, and she’d never had to coordinate her limbs like this before. She was used to alternating her legs to run and walk, moving them in synchronization would only make her waddle everywhere at best.

She didn’t have time for practice though. She had a foal to rescue and ghosts to exorcise and darn it she should’ve looked up spells to get rid of ghosts! She hadn’t actually believed they’d existed but there were spells for turning a bird into an orange, there was probably a ghost-bucking spell somewhere out there!

She’d just have to make one up on the way. Big Heart took a deep breath and lunged into the sky.

Flying was surprisingly similar to swimming. She felt weightless, and at the same time supported. It made no sense but she pushed it aside. Physical sensations did not matter. Trotter mattered.

She dipped and dived and swerved without any true intention of doing any of those things, just barely keeping on path with the tracks. She really could make a lot more distance in the air than walking, she realized. She’d had to land and walk for a while twice during the five hour flight, but she could recognize some landmarks now that put her near the ruins of Las Pegasus.

Normally she’d have given anything to visit a cloud city. Today she flew past it as though the whole thing was worth less than the most bruised apple. Big Heart flew, following the tracks to the San Palamino Desert.

Luckily she found the train before she were more than a mile into the desert. It was still a distance she would’ve needed at least two full cycles to traverse on foot. Still feeling refreshed from her rest she put on a new burst of speed and although it nearly caused her to trip into a spiral she fought through it and landed on the ground beside the train. She had a foal to save.

A foal that was not in the train. It was curiously devoid of ghosts as well but she knew it was the right train, her supplies were still inside. She gathered those up and flew back outside.

Ghosts apparently left hoofprints. That was information she had not previously known. She also figured out that they were not pony hooves either, it was a different equine race. Since they were in the desert she guessed they were ghost bison.

That was unexpected.

Or not ghosts at all. She felt better now that she knew she was probably dealing with living creatures, even creatures so much bigger than she was. She’d found no sign of Trotter yet so she could only hope he was still with them.

She wouldn’t be able to follow the prints from the sky, an observation she was grateful for. Her wing muscles were very undeveloped and though she was a big pony Big Heart didn’t think she was too big to show how much it was hurting. She gingerly folded them in close to her sides and took off at an easy trot.

The Sun felt much hotter in the desert. She had only been moving for a few scant hours before she’d turned frustrated eyes on it and wished she had a little cloud cover. At least by now it was entering the Setting portion of the sky. In a few weeks the moon would peek over the horizon and a sort of twilight would overtake Equestria.

But that was weeks away and she had no intention of waiting that long. Big Heart snorted angrily and ignored the various aches and pains of her body. None of it mattered because she’d made a promise and only oath-breakers broke their promises and nopony dealt with oath-breakers! They couldn’t be trusted!

She was a big pony who’d made a promise to always look after a little pony. Standing in the middle of the desert with frustrated tears leaking from her eyes wasn’t going to help. Action helped. Once she found Trotter that annoying tightness in her chest would go away and she’d be able to breathe again.

Comforted—because she was not an oath-breaker and never would be—Big Heart trudged onwards, praying that with each new dune she’d finally see something to tell her that her precious little brother was somewhere nearby.

She did find the signs of a campsite by the time she was ready to collapse. There were even signs of normal pony hoofprints, little ones that might belong to Trotter. They were probably carrying him to move faster, she reasoned.

The sheer relief of knowing he’s okay, he’s alright, I’m going to find him nearly knocked her out. Stopping might have proven to be a mistake as it allowed her exhaustion to finally catch up. Big Heart whimpered and shook on her hooves. She didn’t want to sleep yet, but after being sick for who knew how long one more day probably wouldn’t make a difference.

‘Just for a little while.’ She thought, laying down too tired to even make a fire. ‘I’ll find him tomorrow.’

‘I won’t stop until I do.’ She promised.