Young, Wild and Free

by Polandball

Rating: everyone
Tags: Adventure
Length: 2170

All who wander are not lost.

They run though the endless fields, treading the grounds their ancestors traversed.

Few living ponies have ever seen them. Most that did only had a fleeting glimpse before they disappeared into the ocean of grass.

They are the Mustang, a pony lost to time and myth.

Daring Do knows there's a grain of truth to every legend, but when her old professor contacts her, she finds out some legends are not just fantasy.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-27 01:51:43 UTC

Chapter 1

        A crisp chill cut through the endless chatter of the bar Daring sat in. Her magenta eyes stared blankly at the oil lantern burning on the table, providing a token aura of warmth. She shifted slightly and pulled her coat around her as the door swung open yet again, letting a blast of frigid air inside. Her wings pressed tightly to her body, trying to prevent the heat from escaping. Winter was a pretty bad time for her, especially since she often worked and thrived in much more inviting climates.

        The clear tinkle of the thick and cloudy glass caused her to look up. Ponies huddled together at the bar, their backs to her. A few of them were tossing their heads back and sucking down whatever was their fancy while others laughed and chatted away. A long mirror ran the length of it, allowing Daring to see some of their faces, but the unconcerned look on her own spoke volumes about how much she cared.

        Turning to her right, she eyed the tables as they lined the establishment, each made out of pale, dry and rickety wood, probably from when this place was first built. The patrons in the booths not unlike Daring’s all huddled around their own lanterns, chatting away about whatever was of concern to them. Rolling her eyes, Daring sighed as she returned to her own oil lamp.

The old pony was late again, as usual.

        As the thought crossed her mind, the door opened once again and the wind whistled by, blowing in some snow and a pony clad in a thick woolen coat. He blustered and shook himself, spreading more snow onto the floorboards before raising his head and looking around. Thick glasses hung from the bridge of his nose, doing little good for him as he squinted above them. Some ponies cast a casual glance to him, but he wasn’t of much note to anypony except Daring. She immediately smiled and waved a hoof at him. As usual, he squinted at her, as if unsure of who she was, before a wide and toothy grin broke his face.

        "Antiqua, me lass!" he called in a thick accent as he trotted over. "There you are! Been ages since I last saw ye."

        "Hello again, Professor," Daring said with a smile.

        "Oh, pish posh, Antiqua. Ye know I hate it when you call me that," he replied, frowning as he looked over at the booth opening. "I prefer me real name, if ye please. I make a point of using yours."

        Daring smiled to him. He was still the same old pony she remembered from her studies.

        "Sorry, but you’ll always be Professor to me, Dusty," she said with a small laugh.

        "And don’t ye be forgetting that, lassy," he said, stuffing his coat and himself into the booth. "I may not be the same pony from back then in body, but me mind is still as sharp as it was."

        "No doubt, Professor," she said, shivering slightly. It was always nice to visit some old friends when Ahuizotl wasn’t scheming or she wasn’t plucking away at the newest Daring Do stories. Still, even seeing her batty old history professor didn’t betray the fact she was here in the middle of winter, something she wasn’t too fond of. She hugged her jacket again, causing Professor Dusty to raise an eyebrow.

        "Ah, ye be having a bit of a chill there?" he asked.

        "No," she lied. "Just been a while since I was here."

        "I see," Professor Dusty said, pushing his glasses up. "And ye also be rolling in a fair bit of bits, from what I hear."

        Daring snorted. "You did tell me never to hide what I had done, Professor."

        "Ah, that I did," he mused, a smile crossing his slightly wrinkled face. "I also told ye it was a fool’s errand to go treasure hunting, didn’t I? Well, I can’t say I was right about everything now, can I?"

        He chuckled as Daring leaned back in her seat. Her smile was warm, but her eyes had gone as cold as the air outside. Professor Sandy seemed to notice and his laughter died down as he looked at the table.

        "So, I take it ye understood me message, then?" he asked, glancing up to her from the top of his glasses.

        "Enough to know whatever it was about needed my immediate attention," Daring replied. "Especially since you made a point of telling me how nice the weather is."

        Another toothy grin broke the old stallion’s face as he shuffled around. “And here I was thinking ye’d skip over that part.”

        Daring chuckled and said, "Professor, you only talk about the weather when you want to keep something hidden, like the jar of candy when you were my tutor."

        "Stop calling me that!" Professor Dusty hissed. "It sounds all formal and strange coming from ye, lassy!"

        "I’ve always called you Professor," Daring said, her brow wrinkling a bit in concern.

"Yes, well, don't do it so loud," he replied, his voice dropping to a hiss. "There be ears out here listening."

He glanced around the bar with worried eyes, causing Daring to take another look at the patrons. None of them looked suspicious, most of them just cold and overworked miners and farmers in for a drink. The chatter was more than loud enough to drown out a friendly conversation between friends, which made Daring look at Professor Dusty again.

"Prof--er, I mean, Dusty, what is this about?" she asked.

Professor Dusty shook his coat and gave one more glance around the bar before he leaned in. "Me lassy, there's been a... discovery."

"Discovery?"

"Yes, one unlike any before. You know the old legend of the Mustangs?"

Daring sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're not going to try and convince me they're real again, are you?"

Dusty knit his eyebrows. "What ye mean by that?"

"Oh, come on, Professor. You know better than anypony the Mustangs are a myth!" Daring said as she slammed her hooves into the table.

"Shhhh! What did I tell ye?" Dusty hissed.

"Professor, you spent twelve years of my life teaching me that history is only facts, not truth or treasure. The Mustangs are none of that. They're an old folklore tale."

Professor Dusty's eyes widened. "Antiqua, me lass! How can ye say such a thing? Ye know as well as I do there's always truth to any myth!"

Daring folded her forelegs and glared at him. "Professor, I hunt for facts and artifacts. Unless there's a reliable source other than a diary of a pony who wandered the Great Plains for years, I want no part in this."

She scooted towards the end of the booth when Dusty cleared his throat.

"Coast of Narhool, 14:42. A herd was seen running along the cliffs by a ship full of ponies searching for pearls. Each one reported the same thing: a large herd of ponies, colored white, brown and black, ran past the boat before the front pony looked directly at them and led the herd back into the plains. The captain confirmed there were no expeditions or other crews in the area."

Daring paused as Dusty finished speaking. Glancing back at him, she scowled as she sat upright. "There's nothing along that coastline, Professor. The cliffs make docking there dangerous for miles."

Professor Dusty nodded. "Yes, I am aware."

"And you're also aware this is only hearsay from a ship of ponies that were over four days away from the nearest Equestrian port, allowing for there to be fabrication and speculation? For all we know, it could've been a dust storm."

He smiled. "There's more than just what they said, Antiqua."

Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small envelope and placed it on the table. He gently pushed it over to Daring while she glared at it before looking back up at him. She reached out and lifted the envelope's flap to reveal a couple photographs, staring at each one for a few seconds before glancing back at Dusty.

"You're sure these are not altered in any way?" she asked.

Dusty nodded. "They were brought to me by a colleague in the Baltimare Museum of History. I trust his word above most."

Daring looked back down at the photos, wrinkling her nose. The images were no professional snapshots, but they did not look fake. A cliff of black volcanic spires dominated the lower half of the photos while a field of brown grass covered the rest. Within the grass, she could clearly make out several ponies, each one running to keep up with the leader. Their coats were various colors, some being white with brown splotches and others colored chestnut brown and ebony black.

The leader caught her attention, though, as he was nearly the same color as the grass with legs that faded to black, right down to his hoof. His head bore a small patch of white running down his nose and his mane of pure ebony spread out behind him like a cape. His gaze was determined, looking ahead and paying no attention to the photographer. The next photo of him had a clearer shot of his face as he looked at the camera, his eyes bright blue.

Daring set the photos back into the envelope and closed it before sliding it back to Dusty. She sighed as she recalled the images and the clarity they showed, especially those of the leader of the herd.

"You believe that to be proof of the Mustangs?" she asked.

"Antiqua, I've never been so sure those are them in me life. The coat color, the location, the way the one looks at the camera. It must be them!" Dusty said, smiling as his voice quivered with excitement.

"Professor, this could also be a hoax, like the Lake Ness Monster," Daring said, tilting her head.

Dusty's smile dropped to a frown as he leaned in. "Antiqua, ye know as well as me that these are far too accurate to be a hoax. Just to get onto that cliff requires somepony to move a herd through one of three ways. The first is to moor a boat to one of the spires, which we know to be extremely dangerous due to the rocks under the waves. The second would be to climb over the mountains to the south of Equestria, which takes months at this time of year."

Daring rolled her eyes. "And the last way is to fly there and none of them are a pegasus. Yes, yes, I get your point, Professor, but why now? Why show these to me?"

Professor Dusty's eyes twinkled as the smile crept back onto his face. "Because this is the exact evidence I've been looking for. They're real, Daring, and I'm going to find them. I've already booked an expedition to the cliffs that leaves in a week, and I want ye to be there with me."

Daring scrunched up her nose. "Professor, you can't be serious."

"The plans are already in motion, lassy. All I need is ye to say yer in, and we be off."

"I really can't, Professor. I have a book signing in Canterlot in two weeks and my editor wants a new chapter in three days."

"But think of what we'll find, Antiqua! A pony civilization lost for thousands of years, thought to be only myth until today!"

Daring sighed. "Professor, I can't even be sure those photos are real."

"Is not me word enough for ye anymore?"

"No, it is, but this is so..."

Silence crept between them as the patrons carried on at the bar. Daring looked down at the table as she wrestled with her thoughts. She knew Dusty to not be one to jump on just any lead, but the Mustangs were a lifelong obsession for him. Even though he taught her history of ancient cultures, he never passed up an opportunity to elaborate about the legends surrounding the mythical race of Equestrians, the endless wanderers of an ocean of grass, running from an enemy known as time.

Looking up, she watched as Professor Dusty stared down at the lamp and sighed.

"Antiqua, I know you must think of me as an old fool, chasing leads to a legend that's been my focus since we met. I did teach ye that history and archaeology is the search for fact, not treasures."

"Professor, please don't," Daring asked.

"Me word isn't worth beans, but I believe this to be real. I believe this to be fact, even if ye call me crazy for it."

He looked up, staring into her eyes.

"Would ye please come with me to see this through? If'n it be nothing more than a goose chase, ye never will hear me speak of it again. I swear on me own mum's grave."

He held out his hoof, offering it to Daring as she looked down at it.

"Whaddya say?"