Whatever Way the Wind Takes You

Chapters

Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
Chapter 15

Chapter 2

From the journal of Gloomy August—

It was easier than I thought to leave home. All I had to do was spread my wings and fly away, the easiest thing in the world for a pegasus to do. The wind took me, lifted me, and I rose on updrafts. I watched Twilight Sparkle and Ponyville grow smaller and smaller. After everything was so small that I could no longer make out the little details, I was hit by one of the big gusts of wind that exist in the upper level atmosphere. Those dangerous gusts that we’re warned about in school. I had one of those hit me and WHOOSH! I was off, being blown to the north and east, with Canterlot off towards my right. I’m just a little pegasus mare and the wind had its way with me. I was a leaf on the wind.

I had traveled several hundred miles in the span of just a few hours. I don’t know how far, or how fast I was going, but I found myself flying over the Unicorn Range with Canterlot now behind me, shrinking away, the distant city getting smaller and smaller.

Off in the distance, I saw a wall of thunderheads blowing in. Big, bossy looking thunderheads. The dangerous types. Feral clouds, probably blown in from off of the ocean. I dipped a bit, following my instincts, and sure enough, once dropped in altitude, the wind below me was blowing eastward, towards Canterlot behind me. The strong headwind was warm. That’s never a good sign. The warm wet air pushed ahead of the storm was colliding with the cold, frigid air above it, which was blowing in the other direction.

I have to confess, I was scared. The storm was coming right for me, and I suppose I should have just let the wind blow me back to Canterlot, but I turned my nose upwards, gained elevation, and let the wind above blow me towards the storm. With luck, I would blow over the top of the storm and everything would be okay.

At least, that had been the plan. Things turned out very differently. For the first time in my life, I was in danger of dying, for realsies. But I couldn’t fly away. Something inside of me would not let me fly away, and I flew into the very heart of the storm.

I’m glad I did. I still don’t know how I feel after everything that happened. I’m still trying to sort it all out. I learned that a single pegasus can make a difference. I also learned that I am brave. I did not know that I was brave, so this is a big deal for me. It is a dangerous business going out your door and having an adventure, stuff happens!

Looking down, Gloomy’s sharp eyes spotted feral tornadoes tearing over the fertile farmland. Something inside of her burned like a cherry red coal when she saw them. The storm was approaching and the wild tornadoes surged forwards as the heralds of impending doom.

Far, far beneath her, so far down that Gloomy had trouble seeing, a massive tornado traveled over a river that trickled out of a lake. She squinted, seeing movement, and watched as the river became wider and wider and the fertile farmland began to flood. Once the tornado had passed, it was easier to see what had happened. A dam holding back the water and forming a reservoir was now gone, obliterated by the tornado. Other twisters were converging on the area. The big storm blowing inland was going to hit this area as it was flooding. Night would be falling soon.

Gloomy realised that she had just flown into a disaster. She hovered, not knowing what to do, and covered her mouth with her hoof as her face scrunched into a frown of concentration. She took stock of the world around her. There wasn’t much high ground. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to go, no place to seek shelter from what was certain to be an epic flood. She glanced at the coming storm. It was miles wide, stretching out from the mountains off to the south, and as far as she could see to the north. It was miles wide, a wall of rainclouds. The Unicorn Range down below was a valley, one of the most fertile patches of earth in Equestria, if not the world.

Gloomy, who realised that she was just one pegasus, didn’t know what she could do in the eye of such a big, powerful storm and the dreadful disaster floating below. What could just one pegasus do? Gloomy didn’t know. A powerful gust of air hit her and she had to flap her wings very hard to keep from being blown away. There was a time to let the wind have its way with you, but now was not the time.

“One pegasus can do a lot more than no pegasus can do,” Gloomy said to herself as she hovered. She reached down around her neck, grabbed her weather goggles, and slid them up over her eyes. Dipping her head downwards, Gloomy August dove down to face the storm.

The enormity of her task was overwhelming for Gloomy. How does one save ponies from a natural disaster? There was nowhere to take them, nowhere to go. There were farmhouses dotting the landscape. Buffeted by the high winds, Gloomy could see the floodwaters rising; for now, it was only a narrow patch of land in the center of the valley. Ponies were outrunning the water and trying to head for higher ground.

There was no higher ground for as far as Gloomy could see. She watched a whirling vortex go right for a farmhouse. Cringing, hoping that the ponies living there had fled, the house was ripped apart as she watched, leaving Gloomy feeling very weak and powerless. It was getting harder to keep flying in the storm. It was impossible to know what to do, but she couldn’t just fly away.

There had to be something she could do. An icy wind ruffled her feathers and Gloomy watched as the impending doom of the storm crept closer, a wall of wind, rain, and water. She thought about trying some cloud busting, but she was all alone; there were far too many clouds to bust and she didn’t see any other pegasi about.

All it seemed she could do was to hover defiant in the face of the oncoming storm.

But that wasn’t enough. Gloomy had to do more. She had to do something.

Brave, resolute, Gloomy August let the storm swallow her just as it was doing to everypony else. Perhaps being blown around would show her what to do. Maybe being in the thick of it would show her the way.

It was impossible to tell if it was night or day. It was just dark. The sun was completely blocked off. Gloomy had to fight against the wind. She dodged between swirling tornadoes and was soaked by the wall of rain that poured down from the back clouds that blotted out the sun. Perhaps this was a bad idea, but Gloomy was still convinced that she could help out somehow. She just needed to be patient and wait for the opportunity to present itself.

She swooped low, flying where the storm was the strongest, trying to avoid the bully twisters rampaging about. It was hailing too. The stones stung when they pelted her. Her pith helmet saved her tender head and her ears. Nothing stung quite so much as one hundred mile per hour hailstones hitting you right in the ear.

Except for maybe one hundred mile per hour hailstones hitting your backside. Ouch!

It was now dark and difficult to see. Gloomy flew low, over a farmhouse, looking around, trying to listen for voices over the rushing wind. Nothing here, at least nothing that she could hear. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed. There were faces in the black clouds, demon faces. Gloomy assured herself that these were just optical whatchamacallits, delusions? Something. Scary faces were not natural phenomenon in clouds. She was almost pushed into a grain silo by a particularly strong, stiff wind that gusted. Below her was frothing white capped water.

As the wind carried her to another farmhouse, this one some distance away from the first, she heard faint cries over the wind. Gloomy, who found new strength, had to fly into a headwind to be able to investigate. The wind shifted, now hitting her from her right side, and she had to struggle to correct her course.

There was a small farmhouse. The water was up to the windows. It was difficult to see anything in the dark. There were only faint outlines, dim shapes, a suggestion of what was there and what one could see.

“Help!”

Squinting through her goggles, Gloomy battled the wind until she reached the roof where she saw four figures engaged in a battle to keep standing. She landed, a hazardous affair, and tried to keep from being blown away. She leaned into the wind, hearing frantic shouts, not knowing what to do, and not willing to admit that this had been a bad idea.

On the roof there was one earth pony mare, one unicorn stallion, and two foals. Both colts. Gloomy, who was never very good at math, which was the primary reason why she was a Cloud Specialist, First Class and not a Weather Captain like Rainbow Dash, tried to add up the situation. Four ponies plus one Gloomy equals… what exactly?

“Can you carry our foals to safety?” The stallion asked, shouting to be heard over the wind. One of his colts was clinging to his leg, the other clung to what was certain to be his mother.

Safety? What safety? There was no high ground, there was nowhere to go. There was no shelter. There was no conceivable place to go carrying two foals to get them to safety. There was only the mother of all storms, rising flood waters, and rampaging tornadoes all around.

“Sure thing!” Gloomy replied in her unflappable, almost cheeky, cheerful manner. There had to be some hope somewhere, or so Gloomy reasoned. These parents needed hope. So did the foals, both of them. She wasn’t quite sure what the parents would do. She hoped that they could swim.

The house gave a shudder as more flood water hammered at the walls. There was a creak from the house that was loud enough to be heard over the roaring demon wind. Gloomy rose into a hover, her powerful wings flapping hard, and she nodded while holding out her forelegs.

A flying tree zoomed overhead, causing Gloomy’s nethers to clench. Not getting hit by a flying tree was high upon her list of priorities. The unicorn’s horn glowed and the two foals were swept up into the air, held in magic. Gloomy watched through wet, rain spattered goggles as the earth pony mares kissed her foals, perhaps for the last time, and then the unicorn stallion did the same.

One pegasus is better than no pegasus, Gloomy thought to herself as she took the two foals into her forelegs and squeezed them tight to her barrel. She couldn’t wave, not while holding the two foals, so she gave a final respectful nod to the parents.

“We love you!” the mare shouted.

A powerful wind gusted, too powerful, and Gloomy could not fight it; she had to go with it, going where the wind took her. As she was shoved along, she heard the snapping wood sound of the house collapsing, ripped apart by water and wind. There was no point in turning back now.

She ducked as another tree flew past her, and then darted away as a clothesline full of laundry still connected to the tree almost whipped her. She had to dodge a flying cow; Gloomy felt awful, she could hear the cow mooing, begging for help, but there was nothing that Gloomy could do. She needed to get out of this storm somehow, but Gloomy had no sense of direction. The intense lightning, the supercharged electrical disturbances, they were interfering with her natural compass and sense of direction.

There was a brilliant flash of lightning, turning the world brighter than day, and it illuminated the nightmare all around Gloomy. An entire grain silo went flying past, almost smashing into her. She flew up. It was the only direction she could think of going. The storm could only go so high. The two foals she was carrying might have a little trouble breathing the thinner air, which wasn’t a problem for Gloomy, but thinner air was better than being dead, all things considered.

It was a struggle to gain altitude. Everything was pushing downwards, or so it felt. Gloomy sideswiped another tornado, it was close, too close, and she let out a little scream right along with the two colts that she was carrying. The wind chucked a stove at her. Dodging that almost caused her to get sucked into a vortex. A second later, what appeared to be part of a chimney flew right at Gloomy, and she couldn’t avoid it. She kicked out with her hind legs, shattering the bricks. Her whole body was pelted with fragments that exploded outwards from the now busted to pieces chimney. Her hind legs were sore and her hoofsies hurt something fierce.

A lightning bolt almost tagged Gloomy, but her reflexes allowed her to dart aside. Gloomy couldn’t keep this up forever, sooner or later, her luck would fail. Which meant that she needed to boogie out of here while she still had luck. She redoubled her efforts to fly up.

Gloomy, clinging to two little colts, continued her battle to climb upwards and escape the storm. She was getting tired, but she still had plenty left to give. She wasn’t one for giving up. The foals were wet, soaked, and shivering against her, either from cold or fear, or maybe both. She had felt a brief moment of warm wetness against her, but that couldn’t be helped. Truth be told, Gloomy was about to widdle herself as well. Hailstones bounced off of her and both of the little colts had their faces pressed against her.

The storm was still throwing things at her, as storms were wont to do. Rather rude, all things considered. Storms and pegasi were natural enemies with a long history of mutual hatred. Pegasi had tamed the storms a long time ago, harnessed them, and had used them to pull Equestria to greatness. Every now and then though, the storms rebelled.

Like now. Gloomy couldn’t even begin to imagine how large of a pegasi army that you would need to battle this storm. There would be casualties, of that there would be no doubt. Gloomy knew that she was pushing her luck with every second spent in the swirling maelstrom.

There was another clap of thunder and then, Gloomy heard… voices? There were fierce cries in the wind. She didn’t know what she was hearing. It seemed as though the very wind itself was tensing up, and so was Gloomy. Holding the two colts, she braced herself, waiting for something to happen.

And something did happen. The clouds parted, swirling away, the skies clearing as an army advanced. Gloomy watched wide eyed as a wall of pegasi wearing golden armor advanced. There were hundreds, no, thousands of pegasi filling the skies… and right behind them…

More pegasi!

Astonished, exhausted, Gloomy watched as the army advanced, coming right at her. She hung in mid air, flapping her wings, her eyes wide behind her goggles, and she saw the most amazing sight. In the middle of it all there was Princess Luna, riding in a hideous looking spiky chariot. Her horn glowed like the sun, dispelling the storm and pushing it back. Her chariot was pulled by the strangest looking pegasi that Gloomy had ever seen; they looked more reptilian than equine, they had slitted eyes, forked tongues that flickered out, and wings like dragons.

As Gloomy flew in place, several pegasi broke off from the formation, flew right for her, and before she could even protest, she was snatched up. She was pulled into the middle of the formation, near Princess Luna’s chariot. The blue alicorn was bellowing at the storm, chastising it for harming her ponies, her voice was like angry thunder.

Now safe in the middle of an advancing army of thousands, Gloomy smiled and gave the two colts that she was holding a little squeeze. For the two colts, one pegasus had been enough, one pegasus had made a difference, and Gloomy was glad that she had flown into the storm.

Author's Note

That's one plucky little pegasus.

Chapter 4

From the journal of Gloomy August—

In the aftermath of the storm, the wind carried me further west. I saw the devastation first hoof. Much of the farmland was ruined, flooded, the rich black topsoil had been turned into terrible black mud. The Royal Guard and others were hard at work, and I got a chance to witness that as I flew towards the west coast, keeping my eyes on the Smokey Mountains in the distance as a guide. The storm of all storms had flown inland further south, crossing over the Whitetail Woods, the outer edge had grazed Ponyville, and the storm had drifted into the Unicorn Range.

I still don’t know how I feel about what I did. I felt something though, something I hadn’t felt the entire time I had lived in Ponyville. I felt like a pegasus again… it was a strange, wonderful feeling. I wish I knew more words and had a better way to express myself. It was like I rediscovered my wings and for the first time, I really appreciated having them. I guess there is a difference between being a pony with wings and being a pegasus. Is that silly? Maybe it is. Maybe I am a silly pony.

All my life, I’ve done what is safe and expected. Equestria is a big place, more than just cities, there are big sections of Equestria that are wild and untamed. At some point in my journey, I knew that I would go into the wilds, but I was still testing my wings. For now, exploring the west coast would have to do. As a pegasus, I could do in an hour what might take an earth pony or a unicorn days on hoof, crossing vast expanses of the countryside, gliding hundreds of miles in a day—all I needed was a good wind.

As luck would have it, I had a good wind. In the wake of the storm, there was plenty of wind. I drifted, sometimes north, sometimes south, but always westward, at least for now. I had no intention of crossing the ocean. Maybe I’ll travel down the coast, maybe I’ll go up. When I hit the ocean, I’ll have to make a choice.

What is life? You’re born, you grow up, at some point, you get a cutie mark. This mark lays out your whole destiny. My cutie mark is a bank of clouds with lightning bolts shooting out of it. I make rain clouds. That is all I can do. If I touch a cloud, it slips into a bad mood, turns black, and starts leaking. My boss, Rainbow Dash, calls upon me every Nightmare Night to fix her up a big black stormcloud so she can ride it around Ponyville, scaring ponies by kicking out lightning bolts.

Surely I was meant for more than this, right?

Life has to be more than a cutie mark, otherwise, what is the point? Why do we continue? To be honest, I’m sick of clouds. After that storm, I think I’m burned out on clouds. I can’t do what my cutie mark is telling me.

Ugh, I am a terrible writer. I don’t know what I’m doing in this journal either, other than making a mess of things. I just write down the words as I think them, giving no thought to how they should be arranged. I don’t have a writing cutie mark. I can tell you how clouds should be arranged. I can even super smoosh clouds into cloud-crete, the building blocks of the mighty pegasus empire. Are we still an empire? But these words are hard to put together.

I don’t know why I bother with these journal entries, no one will read them. They will sit on my shelf and I’ll grow old and nopony will care. My life isn’t interesting enough to have my journal sorted through and added as hoofnotes to our history.

Still, it never hurts to try. I am on an adventure after all. Something good is bound to come from that. I did find myself in a storm, and I did find out that one pegasus is better than no pegasus.

Maybe there is a life beyond your cutie mark. Maybe my cutie mark is what allowed me to brave the storm and save those colts. Maybe that was just the beginning, and maybe, just maybe, I am only just now living the life my cutie mark wants me to live.

If so, I owe it to myself to keep a journal, if only for my own benefit. It might be nice to go back someday and read about how much I’ve changed. Even if it helps nopony else, it helps me, and that is all the reason I need.

I feel much better, I think I am going to go and fly now. Thank you, nice journal. Somehow, you made me feel better.

Are you supposed to sign these things? I dunno, I’m still learning.

Gloomy August, Rain Specialist, First Class.

And now, an adventurer I suppose. Not much of a writer, but I keep trying.

Nestled in the Smokey Mountains, the city of Tall Tale glittered in the late afternoon sun. There were a few big buildings in the downtown, gleaming towers of silvery steel and glass. The other buildings were short, squat, and made of brick. It was a curious mix of old and new; some of the old brick buildings looked like factories, or at least, had been factories.

There were farms on the uneven, sloping land, the entire city was built upon the side of the hill. Much to Gloomy’s surprise, some of the ponies appeared to be farming trees, there were whole rows of trees in various stages of growth, all neatly arranged in perfect patchwork grids. A lot of the trees here were pine trees. Gloomy wondered as she flew closer to the city if Hearth’s Warming holiday trees came from here; after all, they had to come from somewhere.

Trees didn’t exactly grow on trees after all, Gloomy reminded herself. Wait, her internal dialogue said, something is wrong with that thought. Gloomy gave it some consideration, and after a few tortured minutes of overheating her brain, Gloomy was unable to determine what was wrong with her thinking. There was a beautiful city to see and thinking was stupid.

With luck, she’d find a cafe, Gloomy was starving.

What had once been big brick factories were now buildings filled with shops, cafes, and apartments. Main street was a tree lined avenue filled with ponies, wagons, and sidewalk vendors. There were quite a few ponies here, many of them wide eyed tourists just like Gloomy.

Old dirty factories had been repurposed. What had once been an industrial center was now a thriving downtown filled with tourists. Musicians played on the sidewalk, hanging out in doorways. A dramatic street theatre troupe was performing. A griffon was juggling, performing what looked like a dangerous act with knives… real knives. Gloomy gaped at the sight.

She stood, like so many others, just trying to take it all in. This was a wondrous place; Gloomy had no idea that a place like this existed, it was fantastic. Ponyville was downright boring compared to this place, except for maybe the frequent monster attacks, which kept things exciting.

An earth pony belched fire like a dragon, leaving Gloomy awestruck, wondering how an earth pony could do such a thing. He stood on his hind hooves and he twirled a flaming baton balanced on his front hoof. The flaming baton danced and the earth pony kept it moving with deft, skilled movements. He belched fire again, spewing out a massive plume of bright blue and purple flames.

The scent of food was almost overwhelming for the hungry pegasus… there was so much choice, so many options available, where did one even start? She tried to pull her eyes away from the fire breathing earth pony and failed. She watched his act for a little while longer and then, with a great deal of effort, she tore herself away.

Gloomy made her way to an empty bench and had herself a seat. She rummaged around in her saddlebags, digging, until she found her purse full of bits. She had a fair number of bits, but she had to make them last. She inhaled and took in the scent of fried onions. That did it. She tucked her bag of bits beneath one wing after closing her saddlebag. She lept from the bench, drooling, and followed her nose.

Her nose led her to a wagon… a chuck wagon that had a few tables nearby. A smiling unicorn looked down at her. He was greasy looking, and appeared to have gravy on his face and neck. Gloomy took that as a good sign. Gravy was good.

“Whatcha got?” Gloomy asked, grinning up at the unicorn.

“The locals call it the morning after platter,” the unicorn replied, “the less savoury sorts call it the puke platter.” The stallion, who had a deep voice filled with gravel, threw back his head and started chuckling.

“Hmm, what is it?” Gloomy blinked and then sniffed, drawing in the delicious scent of onions cooking.

“Well, first, I slap a big dollop of polenta onto a plate—”

“What’s that?” Gloomy asked.

“Polenta? Cornmeal mush… but good…” The stallion cleared his throat. “Anyhows, I slop a big helping of polenta onto a plate. Then I cover the steaming hot polenta with cheese curds. After that, I add onions, diced peppers, and mushrooms, which have all been fried in butter… frying stuff in butter makes everything better, see, I’m a chef and I went to school to learn these things, so it is safe to trust my opinion… and then I smother everything in spicy, peppery cream gravy. Then, for good measure, diced jalapeños from Appleloosa are carelessly tossed over the top of the mess.”

“Oh my…” Gloomy blinked a few times… jalapeños. She had never really tried spicy food, but she had heard of it. It sounded scary, and delicious. She shifted her weight from one set of hooves to another, almost prancing in place. She was on an adventure and she was supposed to be trying something new. This was something new. What was the worst thing that could happen?

“Five bits, Miss, price includes a big glass of pineapple punch.”

“Okay!” Gloomy opened her wing, dropped her bag, and with surprising dexterity, she kicked it with her front hoof, which made it soar through the air in a perfect arc. It landed on the counter with a clunk of coins. She tugged it open with her teeth, shook out the required bits, and then went through the trouble of stuffing it back into her saddlebag.

“Just have a seat, I’ll bring it out to you.”

“Thank you,” Gloomy replied.

The pegasus went and had herself a seat. She heard the sizzle of something in a skillet, it made her drool, it had to be one of the most wonderful things she had smelled in a long time. She was going to need more bits if she was going to keep sampling the local food.

Maybe a job?

Could she take a job in a strange place?

A temporary job?

Well, why not? her brain asked.

She had left home to have an adventure, to get away from work. She was supposed to be vacationing, having fun, and seeing the world. But a job would help you see the world, the rest of the world works too, what’s the harm in seeing what other ponies do? her brain suggested in a persistent sounding internal dialogue.

“Um…” Gloomy murmured aloud. Her brain was showing troubling signs of giving her ideas and it had ceased being the quiet, sleepy brain she enjoyed. Oh bother.

Saving ponies from a storm was hard work, and that wasn’t so bad, her brain said, filling her mind with thoughts. It was rewarding, hard work brings more than bits, it can help you find satisfaction.

It was hard to find fault in her brain’s logic; Gloomy had never been the brightest pegasus, perhaps her brain was right. Find a job, there had to be work here. “But no weather work,” Gloomy said to herself in a low whisper. She didn’t want other ponies to hear, they might think she was crazy if she was talking to her own brain. They wouldn’t understand how difficult it was to have a rebellious brain that kept offering up its own opinions and giving you ideas that you weren’t sure you wanted.

Reaching up, she undid the straps that held her bobby helmet in place, slipped it from her head, and set it down upon the table. It would be night soon, and Gloomy knew that she would need a place to sleep. With this being a tourist trap, she knew that she could find lodging, but it was probably going to be expensive.

All the more reason to get a job, her brain said, her internal dialogue sounding rather smug. Gloomy hated that her brain was right. This was going to be an expensive adventure. Her meager collection of bits wasn’t going to last very long at this rate. At least the wilderness would be cheaper once she started to explore it.

As she waited for her food, her brain betrayed her yet again and caused her to think of Warden Wormwood. She felt a warm flutter in her breast and a blossoming warmth in her cheeks. At least it was something that she and her brain could agree upon.

Author's Note

Gloomy's brain is its own character.

Chapter 5

From the journal of Gloomy August—

Having a job isn’t so bad. I was able to find one almost right away. Tall Tale became a place for refugees for the storm to come and it became my job to help keep track of them. For the past few days, I’ve been getting paid to fly around and get everypony in the relief camps to sign a little card of stiff paper and then I collect it and I turn them all into the director, and the director files it away for record keeping.

I get a chance to meet new ponies, make them feel better, and let them know it is going to be okay. While this isn’t such a bad job, I already feel the need to move on. The wind beckons, I guess.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought about what to do next. I think I’ll head north, find the frozen mountains, and then head east, in the direction of the Crystal Empire. I think I’ll fly until I reach the other coast and Manehattan, and then maybe I’ll travel down the coast.

In preparation for the trip along the frozen northern mountains, I purchased a new blanket, just in case it’s needed.

It is time to go though. The need to get a move on is getting worse and Tall Tale is filling up with ponies. I should give up my spot for somepony else, there is only so much room after all. The aid director has asked me to stay and I have been offered a job delivering food to ponies that needed it. As nice as that might be, I have declined the position. I really must be going.

The storm, as awful as it was, has brought so many ponies together. Always look for the positive, so they say. In the past few days, I have seen so many kind acts done by good ponies. It makes me feel good, you know what I mean? I still believe that, for all of their faults, ponies are still good creatures, or at least try to be.

I have bits now, a warmer blanket, and a strong desire to get moving. Once more, it is time to go wherever the wind takes me. The sky is calling and it is time to go. It’s strange, but I feel like a pegasus. I’ve always thought of myself as a pony, and I am a pegasus, but with all of the flying I’ve been doing lately, and this travel, I just feel… pegasusy.

After the storm, I learned that just one pegasus can make a difference. And that pegasus was me.

Grinning, Gloomy surveyed her packed gear. Her saddlebags were stuffed and she had learned a great deal about how to pack them, load distribution, and balance. She had received several helpful tips from a number of ponies she had bumped into. She had a small bag that looped around her neck now as well. Lifting her head, she looked northwards, wondering what she might find as she traveled to the distant horizon.

The mountains would be an easy way to travel. She could head east, keeping the mountains under her left wing, and just keep going until she reached the coast. After that, she could visit Manehattan perhaps, but she wasn’t sure if she would even keep her current flight plan. The wind might beckon and she might fly to someplace else, but for right now, this just felt right.

Reaching up with her foreleg, she tapped her pith helmet, the black bobby helmet that she was fond of wearing. Her helmet had become a familiar sight to many. A gust of wind blew between her hind legs, tugging her tail, and ruffling her pelt while tickling her belly. She felt like spreading her wings and catching the wind, but it wasn’t time to go quite yet.

Tall Tale. Full of tourists, full of refugees, it was a city now packed with ponies. And Gloomy realised that she was going to miss it. She had come here, not knowing what to do, not certain about a job, and was now leaving, having found the job satisfying and her stay pleasant. But it was time to go.

The director wished that she would reconsider, and Gloomy, a helpful sort if ever there was one, wanted to stay… but couldn’t. The area was recovering from the storm. She had done her part. She had not come here to settle, had she wanted to stay settled she would have remained in Ponyville, but this was just a place to stop and see.

Spreading her wings, Gloomy threw herself into the wind and was borne upwards on an updraft. The sun was to her right, it was not quite morning but not quite noon, and the wind was at her backside and on her left. It was the perfect weather for easy flying.

She was leaving it all behind her. Civilisation. The sights, sounds, and smells of the city. Vanhoover was off in the distance to her left. Below her were wide open meadows, patches of trees, and mountains. Ahead of her, past the mountains, would be the Galloping Gorge, the amazing canyon that sounded like a herd of stampeding ponies when the wind blew.

Beyond the gorge, the Crystal Mountains awaited, the natural border to the frozen north. Gloomy did not know what was beyond the Crystal Mountains, she had never paid attention to that in school. She knew that the Crystal Empire was up there, and in the Crystal Empire were Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor.

Maybe, just maybe, she would stop in for a visit.

Like a kite with no string, Gloomy was taken upwards with an almost effortless ease, rising on updrafts, warm currents of wind rising up from the lush, verdant pastureland below. Down on the ground, there were boundaries. A fence meant that one pony’s property ended and another’s began. A tree and a boulder and the straight line between them might be the visual landmarks of a patch of property.

But up here, it was all one land, a vast, beautiful land that stretched out in all directions below, with the farms forming a pretty patchwork quilt that covered the land like a blanket. A tree and a boulder, property markers for unicorns and earth ponies, were navigational landmarks for a flying pegasus. Everything had a sense of sameness up here.

Evidence of life and claims of property persisted though. While Gloomy had trouble seeing some fences, others stood out. The low stone wall fence she flew over left a long, curving, wavy line that formed a rough box shape below. A creek ran down along one side of it. In the top right corner, there was a large yellow barn, which really stood out because barns were supposed to be red. Gloomy didn’t know why barns had to be red, but she was sure there was a good reason.

Perhaps it was so pegasi flying overhead didn’t become confused by the sudden appearance of a yellow barn.

Off in the distance, to the east, Gloomy could see Cloudsdale drifting low in the sky, no doubt to help with the relief and cleanup efforts after the storm. With the way the sun was hitting it, it turned some of the clouds pink, some gold, and some remained white and fluffy. For a moment, Gloomy considered turning and paying Cloudsdale a visit, but realised that the city would be a very busy place if they were going to help.

A flying city. That was the legacy of the pegasi. There had been many flying cities for the pegasi, and Cloudsdale was the last one that Gloomy knew about. She tried to recall her schooling as she flew and slipped into a glide as her mind turned to deep thought. There was Timbucktu and King Orion, a cloud city that had been destroyed by Queen Chrysalis. She remembered something about Cloudopolis, and after trying to coax her brain into working, she could remember nothing else.

Cloud cities were difficult to maintain. It took a great deal of support to keep them thriving, it took magic from unicorns to keep items from falling through the clouds and it took a great deal of food grown by the earth ponies to keep everypony fed. If relations between the tribes soured for whatever reason, cloud cities tended to fall apart in very much the same way that the clouds they were made from would.

Cloudsdale was founded not long after Equestria, when the tribes had come together. That was all that Gloomy could remember. In school, she had spent far too much time staring out the window—at clouds no less—and had trouble remembering the lessons of history.

Ahead, the chasm known as the Galloping Gorge yawned open and Gloomy swooped down to have a closer look. It was later in the day now, and the sun was starting to dip down near the tops of the mountains on her left. She still had not reached the Crystal Mountains, but she was getting closer.

Nearer to the ground, Gloomy saw a welcome sight. Ponies! She saw a pony pulling a two wheeled cart and another pony with heavy looking saddlebags. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the cart puller was an earth pony and the pony with the saddlebags was… it was… the pony was odd. Almost… translucent. Almost as if it were a gemstone.

Gloomy zoomed in for a closer look, swooping down until she was just yards off of the ground. The two ponies were walking along a narrow road that had deep ruts carved in by the many wheels that had traveled upon it.

“Hi!” Gloomy waved as she hovered overhead. “I’m Gloomy.”

“Hmph,” the earth pony grunted in reply while rolling his eyes.

The strange pony stepped forwards, a faint smile upon his lips. “You must forgive my companion. He is an unbearably cranky fellow by the name of Jasper Picklesworth. My name is Gleamgood and I am from the Crystal Empire. I’m trying to return home and Mister Picklesworth is looking for a place to set up shop and sell pickles.”

“Ooooh.” Gloomy’s eyes went wide as she made the connection. “You’re a crystal pony. Neat!”

“I am.” Gleamgood bowed his head. “I was moved to adventure after reading about the adventures of others. I wanted to see the road.”

“Oh, me too, me too… except, well, I fly, so I’m seeing the road from above.” Gloomy landed with a thump, her hooves causing little puffs of dust to come up from the road.

“Excuse me, but would you happen to know this area at all? I don’t have a map… but it is my understanding that north of us, beyond the Galloping Gorge, there is a pass through the mountains where there are train tracks.” Gleamgood gave Gloomy a hopeful look.

Shrugging, Gloomy shook her head. “I have no idea. I remember seeing tracks way off in the distance off to the west, on the other side of the forest over there. Those tracks headed north.”

“I’m sure we’ll find our way. We were just talking about finding a spot to settle down for the night. Would you like to join us, Miss Gloomy?” Gleamgood gave the pegasus a charming smile.

“I’d love to join you,” Gloomy replied.

“Wonderful!” Gleamgood turned to look at his companion. “Cheer up, Picklesworth, our fortunes are changing. Now we can have pleasant dinner conversation. Isn’t that nice?”

“No.” The earth pony, who looked very cross, let out a huff. “Let’s just find a spot to make camp, okay?”

“My friend is a bit… out of sorts because we’ve had trouble finding water,” Gleamgood explained, turning his gaze back upon Gloomy. “We still have some, but we are getting very low. This is a bit of a dry place, which surprises me.”

“I could fetch you a cloud,” Gloomy offered. “Every cloud I touch becomes a raincloud.”

“That… that would be splendid.” Gleamgood heaved a satisfied sigh. “See, Picklesworth, it’s just like I told you, something would work out. And now, everything is okay.”

“Hmph.” The earth pony scowled and shook his head. “You can’t count on pegasi coming down off of their clouds and saving us. They’re flighty.”

“Please, excuse my friend.” Gleamgood’s smile broadened and he kicked his right front hoof along the dusty road. “Miss, if you could fetch us some water, I would be forever in your debt.”

“I’d be glad to help.” Spreading her wings, Gloomy kicked off from the ground, flapped a few times, and took to the air. “Just stay on the road while looking for a place to camp. I’ll be right back. I should be able to spot you from the air.”

“Thank you, Miss!”

Author's Note

More is coming, I promise.

Chapter 6

From the journal of Gloomy August—

Jasper Picklesworth is a very gloomy character indeed. I’m not sure what happens to a pony that makes them expect the worst from everything. It is like he had no hope of anything good ever happening. He has no faith that things will just work out. He’s sorta sad and I don’t know what I can do to help him.

But I think things will work out for him. He has a friend. Gleamgood is super bright and cheery. Well, of course Gleamgood is bright, he’s a crystal pony. But Gleamgood is, well, good, and he strikes me as the sort who will keep an eye on Picklesworth.

No matter how bad things are, things just work out. That’s what they do. They might not work out as expected, but life happens and just keeps going. In my own life, I was kinda disappointed when I discovered my talent, and I’ll admit, it kinda gets me down sometimes, but then I cheer up when I think of all the farmers that need rain. It all worked out.

Our night together was a bit strange. Gleamgood was great, but Picklesworth called me stupid. He said I was stupid because I was a mare that trusted myself in the company of two stallions I didn’t know. I know what he is getting at, and I know that the world can be a dangerous place, but I want to believe in the good of ponies. I mean, these two fellas turned out alright and I know that trouble lurks around every corner, but this time, it all just worked out. What he said does have me thinking though, I should be careful, but if I’m careful, that feels like I’m expecting the worst from somepony and somehow, that just feels wrong.

It’s confusing and I don’t know what to do.

I want to believe that the world is good.

It was an odd feeling to have walked so far. Gloomy had spent most of the day walking along behind Picklesworth and his cart. Walking was rough, Gloomy realised. It took forever to get anywhere. They had walked for most of the day and had covered about as much ground as Gloomy could cover in an hour or so of flight. At least, it felt that way. Gloomy was never one to keep track of distances very well.

Walking along the road was a very different experience than flying over it. It took a lot more effort, a lot more work, and there was a lot less in return. It was thirsty, dusty work, and Gloomy was glad that she had helped out with the water situation.

It was rough, being an earth pony. Having to walk everywhere was time consuming and took a lot of work. No wonder Picklesworth was so grumpy. Gloomy understood now, and she felt super bad for him. He grumbled with almost every step he took and Gloomy didn’t protest much about his complaining. Being stuck on the ground sucked. It was going to take forever to reach the Crystal Empire at this rate. It would take months to walk across Equestria.

Trying to coax her brain into working as she walked, Gloomy did a little math. If a pony traveled about twenty to twenty five miles a day walking, it would take about forty five days to cross Equestria. That was as the crow flies with two cities on roughly the same parallel. A diagonal line would be longer. Gloomy knew that a pegasus could make the same trip in five days of actual flying, not counting the days of rest.

Gloomy had a profound realisation that earth ponies and unicorns had it rough if they wanted to take part in continental travel. This was something one never thought about as one flew overhead with the countryside below in a blur. Gloomy also concluded that Picklesworth and Gleamgood were having a far more meaningful journey than she was. They had to work harder, and as such, it meant more.

There was an alarming crackle from Picklesworth’s spine as the earth pony stretched. The group had stopped to take a break at a junction where the road and the railroad tracks met up and remained together. It was the passage to the Crystal Empire and just as Gloomy had thought, it was just north of the Galloping Gorge.

“It’s nice to stop,” Gleamgood said as he slipped his saddlebags off. “From here on out, it’ll be an easy trip home. The grade will be a little steep and the tunnel might be bit scary, but I think we’ll make it.” The crystal pony gave himself a shake, sighed, and then sat down in the grass.

“There’s a tunnel?” Gloomy also slipped off her saddlebags and took off her bobby helmet. She stretched her wings, sighed, and then reached up with her hind hoof to scratch behind her ear.

“Two tunnels,” Gleamgood replied, “one is for the train to pass through and they built another tunnel for caravans and wagoneers. They didn’t want anypony hit by a train.”

“Is it dark and spooky?” Gloomy’s ears perked forwards as she felt a little concern.

“It can be a little dim, but they do have lights in there. The rangers patrol the tunnels from time to time and make sure the lights stay on.” Gleamgood began to fumble around with his canteen so he could get a drink. He managed to get the stopper off, lifted it in his fetlock, and swallowed some water.

“With our luck, all of the lights will be out,” Picklesworth grumbled.

“Oh, cheer up, Picklesworth. Look for the good in the situation. In the tunnel, you won’t have to worry about rain or bad weather.” Gloomy gave the dumpy earth pony her best smile and batted her eyelashes at him to try and make him feel better. It usually worked. Most of the time.

There was a grunt and Jasper Picklesworth scowled. He rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust as he turned away from Gloomy. The irritable earth pony sat with his ears drooping, and a miserable expression upon his face as he considered the road ahead.

“Miss, we could use your help to make sure we have plenty of water before we enter the tunnel,” Gleamgood said to Gloomy. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll stay with you until you reach the tunnel and I’ll fetch some clouds. Just how big is this tunnel anyway that you have to worry about water?” Gloomy blinked a few times as she reminded herself that earth ponies had to walk and the distances could be long.

“The tunnel is forty seven miles in length. It is the longest tunnel in Equestria, but not the longest tunnel in the world. Heading north, it’s an uphill journey. There are campgrounds in the tunnel for weary travelers and sometimes there are supplies left behind by kind rangers or travelers, but you can’t count on them, or so my guidebook says.”

“A good three days in the dark,” Picklesworth grumbled in annoyance. “And walking uphill as well. This was a bad idea.” The earth pony shook his head and pulled out a battered old feedbag from his cart. “It’ll be the death of me.”

“Oh, cheer up,” Gloomy said in a chirpy voice. “I flew into a whole bunch of tornados and a dangerous storm and I’m still alive. It’s just a tunnel. At least somepony was nice enough to make a tunnel through the mountains. It’s better than trying to walk over the mountains or around them.”

Picklesworth’s ears stood up at the sound of Gloomy’s overly chipper voice. He winced, shook his head, and then slouched over as he did his best to ignore the entirely too perky pegasus that dared to point out things he should be grateful for.

Just as Gloomy was about to say something else, her ears perked at the sound of a banjo playing. Her head turned, cocking off to one side so that she might hear better, and she saw Gleamgood doing the same. A banjo was not a sound that one heard very often in the wilderness.

Watching, waiting, Gloomy heard the sound of the banjo coming closer. Her head turned and she watched the road, peering down between the trees, curious as to who was coming. She figured it would have to be a unicorn—an earth pony or a pegasus could not walk and play the banjo at the same time, but a pegasus might fly.

Much to Gloomy’s surprise, she saw a diamond dog. A very large, very, very big diamond dog. He looked friendly enough, he was playing the banjo after all, and the banjo looked very small in his paws. Meeting a friendly diamond dog seemed like a real treat. Gloomy began to smile her special smile without even realising she was doing so.

The music came to a stop and the diamond dog stood in the road a fair distance away, looking both hopeful and curious. He waved, slung his banjo over his back, and then continued forwards.

Gloomy rose to greet him, extended a wing, and waved. “Hi!”

“Hello,” the diamond dog replied as he drew nearer. “My name is Hachikō and I come from the east.” The diamond dog came to a halt again and then bowed at the hips, his long tail wagging behind him. “I am making my way north to the Crystal Empire.”

“Pleased to meetcha,” Gloomy said, “I’m Gloomy.”

“And I am Gleamgood.” The crystal pony pointed with his hoof. “Over there is Jasper Picklesworth. He and I are also heading for the Crystal Empire.”

“Wonderful,” Hachikō said in a booming baritone. “Would you like another traveling companion?” The diamond dog gave his new acquaintances a hopeful look. “I’m good at keeping away trouble and I’m told my banjo playing is pleasant.”

Gloomy was almost overcome with excitement. This was why she had left home. Not only was she meeting new ponies, but also new special friends, like Hachikō and right away, she decided that she liked him. He was friendly. Well, mostly friendly. She noticed the handle for a sword sticking up from his shoulder, and a second sword hung from his middle. For a brief second, this bothered her, but then she realised that the wilderness was dangerous and he was probably super friendly and he would never use those swords unless he had to. Besides, who was she to judge? Maybe he used them to chop vegetables.

“So, Hachikō, what puts you on the road? Why are you heading to the Crystal Empire? Is that your final destination?” Gleamgood looked up at the much taller creature.

The diamond dog sat down in the grass, made himself comfortable, and began to rub his own ear. “I am Rōnin... and I left my home. A mistake was made… a terrible mistake. Now, I roam the world, trying to right a great wrong. I try to do good. I have no final destination, but I will continue to roam to where I am needed.”

“I’ve heard of your kind.” Picklesworth turned his attention upon the diamond dog. “You’re from Inujima. Your homeland is going through a revolution.”

Bowing his head, Hachikō said nothing.

“How do you know this?” Gleamgood asked Picklesworth.

“I read the papers,” the irritable earth pony replied. “A war happened. Brothers fought. Inujima is becoming a dark place.”

“It is,” Hachikō admitted. “I failed in my duties to hold back the darkness. It is a fight I could not win. Rather than be swallowed by the darkness, I fled.”

Intrigued, Gloomy waited for the diamond dog to say more, hoping that a bit more of the story would come out.

“There is no glory or honour in suicide,” Picklesworth said in a gruff voice. “You were right to get out. You’re better off here, where you can serve your honour and your ideals. We appreciate that sort of thing here in Equestria.”

“My friend, I must confess, I am surprised.” Gleamgood turned and studied his earth pony companion.

“What?” Picklesworth said in a short tempered voice. “I’m allowed to have depth.”

Saying nothing, Gleamgood the crystal pony nodded.

“So, uh, tell us more about yourself,” Gloomy said in the friendliest voice she could muster. “We were just stopping to rest after a long morning of traveling and I’d love to hear about your adventures…”

Author's Note

An update!

Chapter 7

From the journal of Gloomy August—

You meet the most amazing creatures when traveling. I got to meet Hachikō and he told me the most amazing stories. We sat by the campfire all night long and he told me all about his homeland. I wish I could remember what it is called, but I can’t.

His home has a few problems and sure, there is a bit of a war, but I’m positive that everything will work out okay in the long run. Surely his fellow diamond dogs will see that all that nasty bad violence isn’t getting them anywhere and is hurting them.

Hachikō himself is a very nice doggy. He scratched me behind my ears while we talked and he petted me and I got to tell him about how I flew into the storm and I discovered how brave I was. He’s really interesting and I hope he finds whatever he is looking for. He’s trying to find something called ‘the way of the bushido’ but I’m not sure which direction it’s in and I’ve never heard of such a thing before. I think it might be a mountain pass, because it sounds dangerous and hard. When I told him, he laughed and told me that it was okay, he would find it sooner or later on his own.

He has given his word that he will escort Gleamgood and Picklesworth to the Crystal Empire and that he will keep them safe. I was kind of worried about the two ponies, they can’t fly away from trouble and there are spooky, scary, nasty bad things lurking in the mountains. Like yetis and abominable snow ponies and yaks with bad attitudes. I feel bad for ponies that can’t fly away from danger.

Picklesworth and Hachikō talked for a bit. I had trouble understanding what they said, but Picklesworth is a really deep pony. He’s a good pony and he and Hachikō talked about being honourable for a while. Picklesworth almost seemed like he was in a good mood. I think it was because I’ve been so nice to him. See, it does pay to be nice.

It’s going to be hard to say goodbye to my new friends, but I must go where the wind wills me.

The road was all uphill as the traveling companions approached the tunnel. It was still some ways ahead, but drawing closer with every step. Feral clouds rolled in overhead, dark, grey, fluffy clouds that held the potential for rain. Gloomy kept a wary eye upon the clouds, remembering all too well the powerful feral storm she had flown into. She did not want her friends swept up in a sudden flood.

Once in the tunnel, they would be fine, safe from any torrential downpours. Gloomy would not be joining them in the tunnel, she planned to fly away. She needed to fly. It was like an itch now. Something had changed inside of her, she now had some strange need, some compulsion, a powerful primal force that she didn’t understand. Gloomy was far more in touch with nature now; she knew which way was north by feel alone. She could feel the changes in the barometric pressure as they happened.

Living her humdrum day to day life in Ponyville had caused her to go numb. She had existed from day to day, doing her job, and she now knew that she had lost touch with what it meant to be a pegasus at some point. Now, she was rediscovering all of her slumbering instincts. She was growing, changing, she was having an awakening.

Hachikō played the banjo as they walked together and the diamond dog kept a watchful eye on the woods around them. The road meandered through the trees, it had smooth, gentle curves and the ruts weren’t very deep. It was easy to pull a wagon along the road, even though it was uphill, and they made good time.

Walking left her hoofsies sore and her frogs ached. Gloomy endured though, having friends around more than made up for all of the walking she was doing. Picklesworth proved to be a far better companion than one might think upon first meeting him. He was a little grumpy, sure, but he was a great pony. He was just a little gruff. Gleamgood was a generous, genial sort.

As she trotted along, she thought about Yam, Taro, Ginger Root, and Harvest Moon. She thought about how one pegasus had made a difference. She thought about Warden Wormwood, handsome Warden Wormwood. Okay, he might look a little scary, but something about him was still handsome and kind of hunky.

She thought back to Ponyville and the ponies that lived there. She tried to think of all of the ponies she knew by name, but came up short. She woke up every day, went to work, got through the day, and went home. She had a slow moment of realisation that she didn’t know that many ponies. She knew Rainbow Dash, her boss, and she knew Twilight, sort of, but everypony knew Twilight. She had acquaintances, and that was about it. When she went home, she needed to change that.

There was a growing sense of unease within Gloomy. Had she made mistakes? She was beginning to think so. She was warm, she was friendly, she hugged other ponies—but she didn’t know them. She just existed with them. She felt closer to her new friends than she did with most of her acquaintances in Ponyville. She had her optimism, her winning personality, but she hadn’t done much in the way of making meaningful friendships.

What would the Princess of Friendship say?

She looked over at Hachikō for a moment and then turned her gaze back to the road ahead. Her saddlebags slapped against her sides, leaving her a bit sore and worn. She was learning how to pack them better each time she made camp.

Life on the road was different. There was an almost constant state of hunger, a gnawing in one’s belly, a cramp that never seemed to go away. At least, that was how it was for Gloomy. She was a plush, well insulated creature, but she had a feeling that if she kept walking and flying the way she was, she was going to be a little less plush and well insulated. Already, she could feel that some of her jiggly places were a little less jiggly. She liked her plush little tummy and she would miss it when it was gone.

“Little pegasus Miss?”

Gloomy blinked, turned her head, and looked over at Hachikō. He was still plucking on his banjo, but he had reduced his volume. It was now something to keep his paw fingers busy and provide a little background noise.

“You look as though you are deep in thought,” Hachikō said to Gloomy.

“I was,” Gloomy replied as she trotted along, “just trying to sort stuff out.” Her voice was chipper but also a bit subdued. “I realised that I know ponies at home, but I don’t actually know them. I was kinda realising that I’m real friendly, I’m nice to ponies, but beyond that, I don’t actually take much time to get to know them. I know more about you three than I do about the ponies I know back home.”

“We retreat into our houses, we revel in our comfort, we hide behind the walls of our dwellings, and we take solace with our many possessions.” Hachikō’s face wrinkled and his ears drooped as he scowled. “Since leaving my home and roaming the earth, my knowledge of others has improved. Time spent around a campfire is time spent getting to know your fellow creatures.”

“Yeah.” Gloomy nodded. “Yeah it is. How is it that we can live in cities but still be so lonely?” The pegasus paused and reconsidered her words. “Well, at least some of us. I think that’s why I left home. I didn’t really feel connected to anything. I live around all these ponies but there really isn’t anything that holds me to Ponyville. I’m not sure how to put it into words.”

“With the road comes reflection. With reflection comes depth. To walk a winding road frees us from the distractions of civilisation. We have no choice to but to turn inwards and examine ourselves, and we do it for the lack of anything else to do as we walk.” The diamond dog’s scowl became something of a smile. “We become vagabond philosophers. The road teaches us what many go to school to learn. We learn through hardship, through endurance, we learn through discomfort and shared fellowship with others what foolish kings pay a ransom to shifty wise men to find out.”

Gloomy was lost; Hachikō’s words went right over her head and she had trouble taking them all in. It sounded good though, so she nodded just to be agreeable.

“Filthy sophists. They were the ruination of my home. When education and learning became a commodity to be bought and sold, far too many became stingy with knowledge. It lead to a shameful state of affairs.” Hachikō frowned again, shook his head, and stopped playing his banjo.

“The cost of education here in Equestria grows steadily. It’s getting harder and harder for a pony to get the learning they need.” Picklesworth’s voice was almost grating as he complained and he let out a stodgy snort.

“Teachers deserve a fair salary and shouldn’t have to work for free,” Gleamgood said, joining the conversation.

“I’m all for fair wages for teachers,” Picklesworth replied, “and they should be paid well, but universities and colleges have become all about profits. They keep charging more and more, while professors and teachers are getting paid less and less. If you compare pay rates now with the pay rates that educators had, say, thirty years ago, and took all the fancy mathematics into account, you would see that wages for educators have dropped. It’s shameful.”

“You continue to surprise me, my friend,” Gleamgood said to the earth pony walking beside him.

“Bah.” Picklesworth snorted again and his ears sagged against the sides of his head. “There’s a reason I’m so cranky.”

“See?” Hachikō gestured with his paw at the earth pony. “This is the sort of thing learned upon the road. Fascinating, is it not?” He looked at Gloomy, his wet, shiny nose twitching, and his tail wagging.

“I… uh…” Gloomy’s words trailed off. She did not understand what was being said. “Yeah, I guess so.” When Gloomy got home, she was going to start reading more books. That was all there was too it. She would ask Twilight for a recommended reading list to get smarter and better informed. She felt awkward and out of place, but it did not dampen her spirits. Gloomy was like a candle that could not be snuffed out.

It just filled her with determination to get better and make improvements.

When she was home and had an opportunity, the first thing she would do was find out what ‘sophist’ meant. It seemed as good of a starting point as any. Sophists sounded dangerous and bad, if Hachikō didn’t like them. Perhaps they were some type of monster?

“Hachikō…” Staring straight ahead, Gloomy spoke to her companion without looking at him. “How does one live a good life? I mean, from how you see things?”

“Hmm,” Hachikō hummed in reply, “hmm hmm hmm.”

Patient, Gloomy waited, knowing that she would be rewarded with an answer. If it took time to think about, it would probably be a good answer. Picklesworth had gone silent and Gleamgood was looking off to his left at a patch of wildflowers at the side of the road.

“It helps to have a definable foe. An enemy. Something one can strive against, improve oneself, a constant state of betterment so that one can be better than what they work against. An enemy can be literal or figurative… a monster or a concept that they wish to oppose. Beyond that, do good, help others, live in service, never retreat…” the diamond dog’s words trailed off. “I have retreated. I am not worthy to give advice.”

“But you are here, in this place, able to tell me the secret of how to live a better life. A good life.” Gloomy swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. “I have an enemy. I don’t like feral storms. I learned that. It threw stuff at me, tried to kill me, and tried to kill a bunch of ponies. It threw a stove at me! And a chimney!”

The tall diamond dog turned and stared at the much shorter pony as he walked.

“And I didn’t retreat from the storm, even during the worst of it. I flew upwards, or tried to, so I could rise above it… it was hard though. The feral storm really didn’t want me surviving it.” Gloomy considered her words and then added, “Or rising above it. I suppose there is some greater symbolism there with that act. I fought to rise above it.”

Hearing her own words, Gloomy felt clever. She might not know what a sophist was, but she still felt clever. She beamed, feeling good about herself, her spirits buoyed. Perhaps she should study a map and try to find this ‘way of the bushido.’ It might do her some good. If she found it, she could go around telling ponies what a wonderful journey she had made and what she had found at the end of it.

After a short silence, Hachikō spoke, his brows furrowed, his tail wagged both low and wide. “Some little pony has found wisdom on the road…”

Author's Note

Next chapter, an old friend returns.

Chapter 8

From the journal of Gloomy August—

Sometimes, things don’t end, they fork. That happened to me. Life forked. Looking back, I can see that now. Back when I was in Ponyville, life forked. I had a choice to stay or go and I went. The same thing happened again. We reached the tunnel and life forked. Our friendship wasn’t ending, it was forking. Life was taking me to a different place. I could not go into the tunnel. I thought about it, but the long dark scares me. The time had come for me to fly away.

Sometimes, life just forks you. What can you do?

I have never walked so far in all my life and my hoofsies were pretty beat up. Earth ponies have hard hooves, they have to have hard hooves, but some pegasi have softer hooves. It is how we get a good grip on the clouds we wrangle. Clouds are soft, poofy things, and hard hooves would damage them. Hard sharp edges would cut the cloud and make it break up. I know that Rainbow Dash has sensitive hooves and she doesn’t like walking on the ground because it hurts her. Now I know why and I think I understand Rainbow Dash just a little bit better.

Hachikō told me that if I kept travelling, I would find purpose. He confused me. A pony gains purpose by getting their cutie mark. I told him so. But then he said that I have my cutie mark and he asked me if I felt like I had purpose in my life. I don’t. I’m still very confused. How can I have my cutie mark but not have purpose? My purpose is to make storms. I touch clouds and they get all grey and cranky and once they get in a bad enough mood, they widdle everywhere. At least, this is what my cutie mark is telling me. But I’m not satisfied. I make storms day in and day out. Every cloud I touch goes stormy. You would think that I’m a pony with a purpose, but I feel something is missing. It’s all very difficult to put into words.

How can a pony have their cutie mark but still feel like they don’t have a purpose?

It is a mystery to me. It makes me feel very small, very alone, and a little afraid. Maybe life isn’t like how I was told it was. I don’t want to come right out and say that I was lied to, because that’s just awful, I don’t think anypony lied to me intentionally, but maybe they didn’t know? Maybe they were just wrong. But doing something wrong on purpose? That’s just bad and I would hope that my fellow ponies would never do something wrong or dishonest on purpose. That’s unthinkable. Maybe cutie marks aren’t what we think they are.

I don’t know. What I do know is, my life will be forever different because of Picklesworth, Gleamgood, and Hachikō. My thinking will be forever different and I can’t ever unthink these thoughts that I now think.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” Gloomy said, feeling a tightness in her barrel that made it difficult to breathe. She looked at the tunnel entrance and then back at her friends. She had given them as much water as they could carry. They were well supplied. The long dark awaited.

Much to Gloomy’s surprise, Picklesworth came over and hugged her. She embraced him back, the tightness in her barrel increasing to the point where she felt like some terrible invisible force was squishing her. When she pulled away, she looked him in the eye for a moment, trying to commit his face to memory.

“You have my address in Ponyville… send me a letter and I’ll write back, okay?” Gloomy said to the dour earth pony. She looked over at Gleamgood and saw him coming closer, no doubt for a hug. “Both of you, write to me. I’ll write back, I promise.”

She offered no resistance when Gleamgood pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him without reservation, glad to know him, glad to have him in her life, even if it was for a short time. She pulled away, looked into his eyes just as she had done with Picklesworth, and was struck with a case of the sniffles.

As she sat there, her barrel hitching, she felt herself picked up by two strong paws. She didn’t panic, she felt one paw slide down her back and under her backside to support her spine so she wouldn’t be hurt as she was lifted. She found herself cradled in Hachikō’s forelegs. She looked up into his face, not caring that he was a diamond dog. He was her friend. Reaching up with a front hoof, she stroked his face and as she did so, her face sprung a leak.

“Goodbye, Gloomy,” Gleamgood said to the pegasus that was now his friend. “We must be going. We have a long uphill journey ahead of us.”

“Yes, goodbye,” Picklesworth echoed.

Hachikō placed Gloomy back down upon the ground, setting her down upon her hooves, and then patted her upon the back. “You will find purpose on the road, little one. Perhaps you too, shall find the way of the bushido.”

“Ya think so?” Gloomy asked.

“Yes, I do,” Hachikō replied, nodding as he spoke.

Gloomy looked over at her saddlebags. It was time to go. There was no sense in prolonging this and making it worse. She sniffled a bit and wiped her streaming eyes with her foreleg. She looked over at her friends and knew that she would miss them. She was also hopeful that she would see them again.

Standing there, Gloomy watched as they prepared to go, hitching up, and making ready to leave. Tears dribbled down to the dirt and splashed around her front hooves. Gloomy, true to her cutie mark, had a knack for making it rain. She smiled, wanting her friends to have a fond memory of her happy face, and she was determined to give it to them.

Once again, Gloomy felt the tug of some great invisible wind upon her wings and her soul. It was time to go.

Flight was a magical thing and it put all of her walking into perspective. In the span of an hour she could cover the same distance that it took all day to walk. Flight was effortless, or at least it felt that way, and if you got worn out, you could land or find a cloud to rest upon. She headed east, making her way along the base of the mountains, enjoying the view, and keeping an eye on her surroundings. She was now alone and she felt it—there was now a keen sensation of loneliness. She missed her friends already.

The wind seemed to agree with her direction and she had the wind against her backside, encouraging her to keep going. The tail wind practically pushed her along towards the eastern horizon. All she had to do was keep her wings out and trimmed.

A dragon flew on the edges of her vision for a while, a massive beast that had to be at least a hundred feet long, but it caused her no trouble. The dragon veered off after a while, heading north, flying into the mountains. Gloomy was glad to have witnessed the majestic creature in flight, and thankful that the dragon had not seen her as a meal. They had shared the same tailwind together and had coexisted in peace.

There were farms down below, nestled in the patches of forest. Lumber camps could be seen peeking out from the trees. Somepony was laying railroad tracks. Soon, this vast wilderness would be gone, cleared away, the trees thinned out, replaced with farms, lumber mills, little hamlets, and trading posts. Gloomy realised that she was seeing the price of progress.

This was an ideal place. The meltwater coming down off of the mountains made for endless streams, creeks, and would provide sources of precious water for irrigation. The ground was green and lush. It was land, wild and free, a land in need of taming.

Looking below, Gloomy realised that everything she saw down there might one day be a teeming metropolis like Manehattan. She felt unsettled by the thought. While progress happened, one could not stop progress, surely some of the wilderness would be left, right?

As she contemplated this conundrum, a lone flying figure approached unnoticed.

Gloomy was in fact, quite startled to see Warden Wormwood, something made all the more interesting because he was out in the daylight. He was wearing protective goggles and there was a bandage around his neck. A tree branch had been sticking out of him the last time they had spoken. She pawed the ground, feeling nervous, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Something about him scared her, and Gloomy liked the feeling of fear. The shivery feeling running up and down her spine felt good.

Gloomy had no idea that she was a prey animal responding to a predator.

“Warden,” Gloomy said as she shrugged off her saddlebags, glad for a rest.

“Miss August,” Wormwood replied, giving the pegasus a nod. “Please, call me Wormwood.”

Standing there, Gloomy felt odd… she felt exposed being near Wormwood in the daylight. She shuffled on her hooves, wondering if Wormwood was looking at her through his darkened goggles. It was impossible to tell. She saw sunlight glinting on his marble-white fangs and could not help but feel that he was handsome in his own way.

“So, Wormwood, what is it about me that interests you?” Gloomy blinked, unaware that there was a coy grin upon her muzzle. “Shouldn’t you be looking after all those refugees?”

Wormwood, looking serious and stern, let out a soft growl as he cleared his throat. “The Night Lady sent me north to investigate reports of manticore sightings. Many of the refugees have fled north after the storm. We don’t want any incidents.”

“And you just so happened to find me?” Gloomy asked.

“Well, you do have that black bobby helmet,” Wormwood replied.

That was a good answer. Gloomy nodded and took off her helmet. She set it down upon her saddlebags. She took a step closer to Wormwood, hoping to get a better look at him. He had scales and something about him was most certainly reptilian. His wings were bat-like, dragon-like, and she could see that his hooves had scary looking serrated edges, like a saw.

“Most of your kind are afraid of my kind,” Wormwood said to Gloomy as she drew closer. The warden sniffed as Gloomy came closer, and he lowered his head to get a better look at her.

Gloomy was afraid, the shivery feeling made her whole body tingle, but her curiousity was stronger than her fear. She raised her head and looked into Wormwood’s goggles, hoping to see some trace of his eyes, slitted though they might be.

“What are you?” Gloomy asked, hoping that she wasn’t being rude.

“I’m a pegasus, like you,” Wormwood replied.

“No, you’re not.” Gloomy shook her head. “You’re not like me at all. What are you really? You can tell me… I won’t run away. I am a very brave little pegasus. I even made friends with a diamond dog.”

“I know,” Wormwood replied.

“You know that I’m a brave pegasus or that I made friends with a diamond dog?” Gloomy blinked, but was unaware that she was batting her eyelashes at Warden Wormwood. “Are you watching me, Wormwood?”

“I’m a pegasus.” Wormwood spread his wings, revealing his almost transparent membranes. “A long time ago, the common pegasus was bred with dragons and drakes. Equestria had enemies and we needed better soldiers. The Royal Pony Sisters started a breeding program, a program that continues even now.”

“Neat.” Gloomy’s voice sounded breathless and she trembled as she made her reply. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, were you born or were you hatched?”

“I was hatched from an egg,” Wormwood admitted to Gloomy. “But our kind has live birth too. It just depends. We still breed with drakes and smaller dragons to keep our blood infused with draconic might”—Wormwood paused for a moment and smiled—“but we also breed with common pegasi.”

“Wormy?” Gloomy offered up a fetching smile. “Do you mind if I call you ‘Wormy?’” Gloomy took another step closer. “Would it be reasonable to assume that you are looking for a pegasus you can get to know?”

“I might be,” Wormwood replied. Reaching out with his wing, he loosened the strap of his helmet with his clawed thumb that protruded from his central knuckle. The buckle popped loose and the strap dangled down. “It’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated?” Gloomy asked.

“It’s complicated, because I’m looking, but I can’t act upon it right away.”

“Oh. I see. That does sound complicated.” Gloomy sniffed as she got a little closer. Wormwood smelled different. He didn’t smell like a pony. For one thing, he had carnivore breath. Yuck!

“I offered ten years of my life to the Night Lady. She comes first. I have to complete my service to her before I can begin the service to my own kind.” Wormwood watched as Gloomy stood sniffing him, her small, delicate nostrils flaring.

“Service to your own kind?” Gloomy stopped her sniffing and looked up. Wormwood’s muzzle was inches away from her own.

“I have to continue my species,” Wormwood replied in a low voice. “And I have to find a pegasus mare worthy of my attention. She has to be extraordinarily brave… otherwise, I don’t have much of a chance to get to know her if she runs away from me. All of my hopes will be dashed.”

“Must be difficult.” Gloomy nodded her head and felt a warm flush spreading out from her dock. Something about the way that Wormwood smelled excited her. He was smoky and spicy and had a mouth watering scent. As she stood there, smoke curled up from his nostrils, actual smoke. She wondered if he had a belly full of fire. She wondered how warm his tummy might be if she touched it. “So, uh, how many years do you have left, Wormy?”

“Five.” Wormwood’s ears perked inside of his helmet.

“So this mare you hope to find, she’d have to wait?” Gloomy clucked her tongue. “That’s asking a lot of a mare, Wormy. Especially if she might lay eggs. I’d imagine that would be uncomfortable. That’s a lot to ask of a mare to squeeze out of her bum bum.”

Chuckling, his armor clanking, Wormwood shook his head. “Regular pegasi mares give birth to live young when bred with the stallions of my kind.”

“That’s kinda reassuring, Wormy.” Gloomy sniffed again, smelling smoke, and the scent of Wormwood made her want to sneeze, even though her mouth watered. Gloomy wasn’t sure about Wormwood’s intentions. Was he checking her out or hunting her? He was big enough to gobble her right up. The thought made her loins clench in the most delightful way. “Five more years, huh? A lot can happen in five years, Wormy.”

“Yes it can.”

Reaching up with her front hoof, she booped Wormwood on the snoot, once, twice, thrice, and then a fourth time. Each touch made her shiver and she smiled. She had no real plans for the next five years and it might be nice to get to know somepony without any pressure.

“Gloomy…”

“Yeah, Wormy?”

“Might I ask you a favour?”

“Sure, Wormy, ask away.”

“The daylight is very taxing on me. Do you think you could watch over me while I sleep? I could return the favour and watch over you in the night. There’s a manticore about. I would hate for things to end before they had a chance to begin.”

“Oh, I could do that…” Gloomy nodded.

“Thank you, Gloomy.”

“Eh, no problem, Wormy. Are you sure about the egg thing? ‘Cause that’s a bit of a worry…”

Author's Note

Being in a better state of mind, I can now write Gloomy and not feel like I am pulling teeth.

Chapter 9

From the journal of Gloomy August—

It was far too difficult to write some of these things down just after they happened. Sometimes, things only make sense in hindsight. I’ve had to do a lot of reflection to make sense of all of these things, spend some time with tea and a sympathetic ear, (thank you, Princess Cadance) and even with all of that, I’m still not sure how to deal with everything that happened. But, I did reach one conclusion.

Sometimes, the best days in your life are there to help prepare you for your worst days yet to happen. Meeting with Wormy was just about the best day of my life. Looking back on it all, I didn’t know that I had found my soulmate, but I am so glad that he was there. Something about that encounter gave me strength for what happened next. Wormy has that effect on me. He brings out the very best in me. He makes me want to be brave, to be good. Wormy inspires me to be a better pony.

And on the very worstest day of my life, I was a good, brave pony.

Feeling a little sad, Gloomy watched as Wormwood flew away from her. He had to go and do his job. He had to keep Equestria safe. They had kept each other safe, taking turns sleeping, and had spent a little time talking. Talking was good. While Wormwood looked a little different, he was still, for the most part, a pony.

She checked the campfire once more, looking for any live coals, as she did not want to burn down the forest. It was soaked and appeared to be out. She kicked it with her hoof, not caring if she got a bit ashy or dirty. It happened. She looked up, hoping for one last glance, and saw that Wormwood was a tiny dot on the horizon.

When she saw him again, there would be another chance to talk so she could get to know him. He was going to be a busy pony for the next five years. She wondered what he would do when he was retired, other than settle down. She wondered what dreams he had, what goals, what he hoped for. There were so many questions to ask him.

Packed up and ready to go, Gloomy took one last look around, spread her wings, and took flight. The wind picked her up, lifted both her spirits and her body. She soared with little effort, found an updraft, caught a ride, an in mere moments, she gained several hundred feet of altitude with very little effort. Wormwood was gone, he had slipped over the horizon, heading north, towards the mountains, off to look for manticores.

The wind blew Gloomy eastward and she settled in for an easy glide with the wind pushing against her tail. She tucked in her legs, grinned for all she was worth, and with the light feeling that she had in her heart, she was certain that she would be buoyed up over the clouds.

Flying over the treetops, Gloomy followed a river that snaked through the valley floor below. It was all quite beautiful, there were lots of pine trees down in the depths of the valley with some deciduous trees dotting the upper elevations of the hills, where the sun shone the strongest. Giant ferns dotted the marshy areas where the river took a turn. The water was a pleasant shade of greenish blue, and it sparkled like diamonds as the sun glistened on the surface.

Ahead, a thin column of smoke rose up over the trees, it was black, much darker than regular smoke, and Gloomy wondered what was up. Was somepony burning wet wood? She flapped her wings for a bit more speed and flew ahead, cautious, curious, and wondering what was up.

There was a clearing in the trees below and the ground was dotted with berry bushes, which seemed like a delightful reason to land. Well, that, and investigating. As she flew overhead, she noticed something on the far end of the clearing, near the treeline. Something big. She also saw fire, the source of the smoke.

Worried, she stayed in the air, but investigated. She dropped down below the treetops for a better look, and as she hovered in the air, her blood went cold. There was a manticore! It wasn’t moving, which was odd, and then as Gloomy took everything in, she realised it was dead. All around it there was—was that blood?

Queasiness overtook her and her gorge rose. Fighting back the urge to gag, Gloomy flapped her wings and moved a little closer. Something was moving, something covered in—oh dear that was a lot of blood, Gloomy thought to herself.

Trying to be as brave as possible, Gloomy landed and her hooves squished in the spongy ground. She tried not to think about what made the ground spongy. Near the manticore, there was a fire that poured smoke into the sky. Beneath the manticore—Gloomy took a deep breath—was a griffon.

It was pinned beneath the beast and covered in blood, but alive. A spear had been rammed through the manticore’s head, it had gone in beneath the jaw and exited the top of the manticore’s skull. Just looking at it almost made Gloomy lose her breakfast. She trembled as she took a step closer.

“Help me,” a weak voice said.

“Okay,” Gloomy replied, not knowing what to say or how to respond.

Standing beside the grisly scene, Gloomy almost screamed when the griffon’s bloody talons wrapped around her leg. She looked down and discovered that it wasn’t a griffon, but a griffoness. The talons clutching her leg were feeble, weak, and the points of her claws tickled, but did not pierce Gloomy’s skin.

Rearing up, Gloomy planted both front hooves against the manticore’s head, braced her hind legs, shoved, and rolled the beast off of the griffoness. She heard a groan, dropped down on all fours, took one look at the griffoness, and then, without further ado, Gloomy turned her head to one side and barfed.

She blew chunks until there was nothing left inside her, and then dry heaved for a while. Gasping for air, her sides heaving, Gloomy returned her attention to the griffoness, determined to help. She had been clawed, her body was covered in horrific gashes, and she had been stung. The gaping wound could be seen on her girth, her chest. Gloomy was pretty sure that bones were visible.

But the worst thing of all was the egg lodged in the griffoness. Her legs were caked in blood, and so was her stomach. It wasn’t hard to figure out and Gloomy’s imagination filled in the blanks quite well. She had tried to lay an egg in the wild, perhaps it had come sooner than expected, it got lodged inside of her, she had trouble passing it, and the scent of blood had attracted the manticore. The griffoness, caught in a compromising position, had fought for her life and the life of her egg.

It was just about the worst thing that Gloomy could think of, and it crushed her.

“Save my egg,” the griffoness asked, gasping out what was sure to be a final request.

“How?” Gloomy replied, not knowing what to do.

The griffoness blinked and struggled to draw in air. “You will find a way. Against all hope, a rescuer came for me. Do what you must.”

As Gloomy stood staring, the griffoness went still. There was a soft huff, a wet sounding exhale, and then, it was over for the griffoness, who suffered no longer. Her claws twitched once, and then went still, never to move with the animation of life ever again.

Gloomy, an optimist, the sort of pony who could find the good in anything, could find nothing good in this. She tried, she tried and tried, but was unable to think of anything good at all. There was only sadness here, along with blood and death. A life had been interrupted. Ended. A mother who had been about to bring a new life into the world had been attacked and killed.

The reality of the situation crushed Gloomy, and she could find no good. She wept. Everything she believed in, all of her hopes, all of her dreams, everything seemed insignificant to this moment. Even Wormwood was forgotten as Gloomy began to suspect that the world was awful, and that there was nothing good in it. Everything she had believed in before had all been a lie, a sham, a delusion that persisted because she had lived such a sheltered, protected, wonderful life, free of danger, harm, or grief.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as her world crumbled down around her. Gloomy’s inner light flickered, growing dim, and threatened to be extinguished by the darkness now pressing in on all sides. There was nothing good to be found.

Beset by darkness, Gloomy’s inner light struggled, battling for its life, its very existence. It was in mortal peril, in danger of going out forever. Refusing to go down without a fight, it reminded Gloomy about the egg.

Blinking, still sobbing, and gagging as her stomach threatened to revolt again, Gloomy looked down at the egg that was half inside the dead griffoness. Something bubbled to life within Gloomy, something terrible, something fearsome, something that terrified her, but also gave her strength.

Her inner pegasus, the ancient primeval brute, had woken up, and it was pissed, as primeval internal brutes tended to be. Something maternal flared up and Gloomy’s inner light ignited, blazing anew, driving back the encroaching, creeping darkness. She let out a fierce, warbling cry that was part battle cry and part gag as she tried not to retch.

“There is still some good to be had,” Gloomy said to herself as she willed her legs into action. “There is always a silver lining in even the darkest cloud.” She began to pace back and forth near the griffoness, trying to determine what to do.

Deciding that action was necessary, she began to examine the egg, which was wedged in tight. She poked it with her hoof, it was bloody and sticky. The coppery tang of blood filled Gloomy’s nostrils. It was the smell of life and death. The griffoness had died defending her egg and by sheer random chance, Gloomy had seen the smoke of the distress fire.

She couldn’t make the egg wiggle around, so she tried pressing on the griffoness’ stomach. She poked, she prodded, trying to figure out what to do. Nothing seemed to work. That egg was lodged in tight. It was stuck.

Lifting her head, Gloomy looked over at the spear that had been skewered through the manticore’s head. It looked sharp. It was too horrible to even think about, but the egg had to be saved, something good had to come out of this, and Gloomy would have her silver lining, even if it meant that she had to do something awful.

It was time to get her hooves dirty.

Clutching a bloody egg in her forelegs, Gloomy hugged it to her barrel, not caring about the gore soaking into her hide. The spear lay on the ground close to her. She needed to clean the egg up and she needed a bath. She wanted to be away from this place.

She began to prioritise. The egg needed to be cleaned up, but it also needed to stay warm. It needed to be protected. Something terrible and primal now lurked within Gloomy’s mind, something had woken up and would not go back to sleep. Her ears registered every sound around her, twitching, and it seemed as though every muscle in her body was now somehow connected to her ears.

The river was close. She could clean up the egg and herself, bundle the egg up in some blankets that she had, and then fly away from this terrible place. She needed to put the smouldering fire out. She needed to figure out a way to carry the spear with her, because for some reason, Gloomy thought it would be a good idea for the griffon cub to know about their mother.

Once she was away from this place, she would have to find caretakers for the egg. She knew that ponies had orphanages and orphanariums, but griffons? She didn’t know. Not sure what to do, she decided to head north to the Crystal Empire. Maybe Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor might know what to do. It would be a short trip, and if she flew fast, she could be there in just a few hours. Flying five hundred or so miles wasn’t too hard to do in eight hours or so. If she pushed herself, she could get that time down to six hours, or maybe four. It was possible.

Gloomy did not know it, but she no longer looked like the happy-go-lucky pegasus that had left Ponyville. Bloodied, with a savage snarl on her lips, she looked positively feral as she clutched and cradled her egg while sitting between two dead corpses.

Even with the horror all around her, Gloomy had found her silver lining.

Author's Note

And this is how Silver Lining eventually ends up in Princess Twilight Sparkle's School for Fantastic Foals.

Chapter 10

From the journal of Gloomy August—

I still don’t know how to talk to Silver Lining about her mother. It will have to happen someday, but I dread that day. I still have her mother’s spear, it is kept cleaned, oiled, and sharpened. Wormwood taught me how to care for it. One day, it will be Silver Lining’s spear.

I can hardly remember that trip north. Maybe I don’t want to remember it, because of all of the blood and horror. The only thing I remember with any sort of clarity was that I kept telling myself that the egg I carried with me was my silver lining. I kept repeating it over and over. Twilight told me that I was trying to find meaning in suffering because I hadn’t really experienced it before, I was too sheltered. And maybe she’s right. She probably is. Twilight is smart.

The silver lining in the situation became my Silver Lining. By the time I reached the Crystal Empire, the name had stuck. I must have said it a hundred times or more, over and over again, I kept saying it.

It has been almost a year now since my trip and I have not yet fully recovered. I still have nightmares about that day. The bad dreams bother me. In the dream, I can’t do what must be done, and I had to do something pretty awful, but I can’t do what must be done so I leave the egg behind and I just fly away. Sometimes I wake up screaming, other times I wake up crying.

Silver Lining will be having her birthday soon, her first. One year of life. A life that I gave her. It’s funny, thinking about it, but I birthed that fuzzball. Twilight seems to think so as well. I had to endure a major trauma to bring her into the world and now, like any mother, I get to reap the rewards.

I can’t imagine life without her, or my friends for that matter. And then there is Wormwood. She calls him ‘Dada’ and Wormy gets all squirmy. Just four more years and life will be perfect. I will have everything my heart wants.

I think Princess Cadance and Shining Armor might try to make it to Silver Lining’s one year birthday party. I hope they do. I miss them. I also miss Picklesworth and Gleamgood. I need to return to the Crystal Empire.

I haven’t heard from Hachikō in a while. He’s always going into danger. I hope he’s okay.

Gloomy’s wing joints burned with fatigue. She was in desperate need of rest, but she didn’t dare stop. She wasn’t sure how long she had flown, or how far, but she had flown a long ways. It was night now and she had trouble seeing anything. She was a pegasus and she was used to flying during the day. Clouds obscured the moon and stars, leaving it dark, so very dark.

When she saw the light flying towards her, Gloomy almost panicked at first, but then very nearly cried with relief when she saw the gleaming glow of a crystal pegasus. He had a lantern mounted on his helmet and two more mounted on his armor. He flew right towards her, somehow knowing where she was in the dark, and she couldn’t remember ever being happier or more relieved to see one of her fellow ponies.

A second light appeared in the sky and drew nearer. She watched, wondering what was up, and then, she saw the most amazing sight. The Crystal Empire appeared upon the horizon, gleaming like a jewel in the midday sun. The whole city blazed with light, pushing back the darkness. So taken with the sight of the city, Gloomy began to cry with relief.

Sobbing, she found the last of her strength failing her. She flapped with everything she had left, but began to lose altitude. The second crystal pegasus joined the first and the two of them flew on either side of her. They dove below her, and then rose together.

Gloomy found herself in a net which hung between the two guards like a hammock. Wings aching, eyes now too full of tears to see, she collapsed into the net and her body lay limp. Her wings continued to twitch and convulse, she couldn’t make them stop. Each movement sent a spike of pain through her spine and up her neck.

The guards said nothing as they carried her to the crystal city.

Gloomy looked around the small room she had been left in. She had been told to wait, and then the guards had left. The room was comfortable, even if it was a little small. It seemed that space within the crystal spire was at a premium. She had been brought in through the large window, which was now closed to keep the night’s chill out.

She was sweaty, stinky, dirty, and very much a mess. She hadn’t followed her plan very well. She had done nothing to clean up the blood on her or the egg. Her mane clung to her neck in clumped tendrils. Her tail was lodged in various nooks and crevices, but especially in her crevice. She was too tired to even try to kick and squat to make a dedicated effort towards tail extraction.

So filthy was she and so disgusting that she was afraid to even touch anything, as everything around her was clean and perfect. Her mind, dulled with fatigue, thought back to her plan to bathe in the river. She hadn’t. Why? She couldn’t recall. She honestly couldn’t recall. Had she been worried about something attacking her? Worried about the egg getting too cold? She couldn’t remember. Her brain balked at her efforts to recollect everything that had just happened.

Hearing hooves, Gloomy turned her head towards the door and waited. The door opened and a tall, slender pink alicorn stood in the doorway. Not knowing what else to do, she bowed her head and kept quiet, as she didn’t know what to say. She closed her eyes as she cowered, feeling gross and icky.

Much to her shock and surprise, she felt herself being embraced by the much larger alicorn. Gloomy’s eyes opened as Princess Cadance’s wings wrapped around her in a sincere, loving hug. She looked up into the princess’ eyes, her own eyes still blurry with tears. Her wings were still convulsing at her sides.

“I don’t know what has happened, but it looks as though you need a safe place, my little pony.” Princess Cadance looked down into Gloomy’s eyes. “When you drew near the city, I felt your broken heart. I sent my guards to help you. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, sorted out, and then you can tell me what has happened.”

As the princess pulled away, Gloomy struggled with the blankets tied around her neck. She had strapped the egg in to keep it secure, safe, and warm. She fought with the knots she had made, made no progress, and frustrated, she slipped the spear from the makeshift sheath she had beneath her wing. Just as she was about to cut the blankets, she saw bright pink magic undo the knots.

The spear slipped out of her filthy, crusted over fetlocks and fell to the floor with a clatter as the blanketed bundle fell open, revealing a bloody, scabby egg. Panicked, worried, Gloomy bent her neck and pressed her cheek against the egg. It was warm, so very warm, and she felt her barrel begin hitching as she started to sob with relief.

The pink alicorn stared down at the bloodied heap upon the floor, with her eyes focused upon the egg. Gloomy looked up, her body shaking with sobs and her wings still twitching, still trying to fly her north.

“Oh my,” Princess Cadance gasped. “Well, let’s stick with the plan. I’m going to help you get cleaned up, and your egg too, and you’re going to tell me what happened. I’m certain that there is quite a story to be told.”

Weeping, Gloomy was unable to reply as she was scooped up in the princess’ magic. She wrapped her forelegs around the egg, closed her eyes, and she could no longer contain the grief that her broken heart felt. Her tears came out in torrents as Princess Cadance carried her out the door and into the hallway.

“Well,” Princess Cadance said in a low whisper, “that’s quite a story, my little pony.”

Gloomy drank a little water, but worried because it felt as though she might hiccup and choke. She was clean again, the hot bath with exotic oils had done wonders for her fatigued, achy body, and her egg was now spotless. The egg itself sat in a makeshift nest made of blankets upon Gloomy’s bed.

“What happens now?” Gloomy asked in a strained, scratchy voice as she set her glass down upon a small tray table set beside the bed. “What happens to the egg? What can be done? I’ve come so far, I need to know.”

Clucking her tongue, Princess Cadance pursed her lips. She stood there, one ear twitching, trying to think of how to respond. After a short period of time spent in contemplation, she replied, “Griffonstone continues into its decline. It is unlikely that the egg will find caretakers there. As it is, they are overrun with orphans. Too many beaks to feed and not enough caring, gentle souls willing to look after those who cannot care for themselves.”

Gloomy sucked in a deep breath, and without realising she was doing it, she held it.

“No doubt, the griffons would advise leaving the egg out somewhere and allowing nature to take its course—”

“NO!” Gloomy blurted out as she snatched up the egg and its nest of blankets in her forelegs. Her eyes narrowed and a fierce expression overtook her fatigued, exhausted face.

Princess Cadance let out a polite cough. “As for here in Equestria, I suppose we could put the egg into an incubator, but I don’t know who might care for it. Little griffons take a lot of hard work. You have to feed them a lot of bugs and most ponies are turned off by that sort of thing. Our own orphanariums are full and I’m not sure that a little griffon would get the attention they need, because they are very, very helpless when they hatch.”

“Can nothing be done?” Gloomy asked in a pleading voice as she cradled the precious egg.

One of Princess Cadance’s eyebrows arched and her nostrils flared. “I am very sorry, my little pony, but I do not see a good outcome. I don’t see this ending well. Perhaps we should observe the wisdom of the griffons and—”

“No…” Gloomy whined and shook her head.

“It is a matter of resources, my little pony,” Princess Cadance said in a soft, soothing voice. “It is very unlikely that we will be able to find a family that will adopt the egg. Even if we put it into an incubator and allow it to hatch, it would be cruel to do so, as it would never get the attention, love, and care it would need. Little griffons really are quite needy.”

Upon hearing the princess’ words, Gloomy let out a wordless whine.

“Right now, it isn’t a griffon. Not yet. It is a shell and some yolk. No different than a chicken’s egg. Letting it go would be a kindness—”

“No.” Gloomy shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut as more tears welled up. “No, not after what I went through. This is my one silver lining… you don’t know what it was like… I had to take that spear and I had to… I had to…” The pegasus choked and was unable to keep speaking. Bowing her head, she pressed her cheek against the top of the egg.

Turning her head, Princess Cadance looked over at the spear, which now stood in a corner. A look of sorrow was seen upon her face for but a moment, then it vanished. Her eyes flashed with cunning as her brows furrowed with determination.

“Honestly, Gloomy, sometimes it is best to just let go—”

“Never!” Gloomy snapped, all traces of her usual cheerful, happy-go-lucky self now gone. “I’ll do it myself if nopony else will!” She wrapped her body around the egg wrapped in blankets, as though she would somehow protect it from the world at large.

“Oh, Gloomy, I don’t know about this, there is a lot of work to be done.”

“I don’t care.” Gloomy wrapped her sore, aching wings around her body and the egg. She glared at Cadance with fierce, defiant, beady eyes.

“Gloomy, it will mean sitting on the egg for twenty one to twenty eight days—”

“Don’t care.”

“And what will you do once it hatches?” Princess Cadance asked. “You’re a pony. That’s going to be a griffon.”

“Don’t care.” Gloomy’s eyes narrowed.

“It eats meat.” Princess Cadance’s voice had a matter-of-fact tone to it as she spoke.

“Don’t care.”

“A lot of ponies don’t deal with carnivores very well—”

“Well, I’d better to learn to deal with it, because Wormy is kinda handsome.”

“Wormy?” Taken aback, Princess Cadance stood blinking, looking very confused.

“Wormwood. Big fella. Kinda handsome. Night pegasus. He had a tree branch skewer him through the neck. Can you believe that?”

“Oh.” The pink alicorn took a step backwards. “Oh...” The corners of Princess Cadance’s mouth curled upwards for but a moment and then her cunning smile vanished as though it had never happened. Her wings flapped once against her sides and her eyes narrowed.

Unable to hold it in, Gloomy yawned. She was now clean, had a full belly, she was warm, and was in a comfortable bed. Her body screamed for sleep and another yawn happened right after the first one ended.

“Well, Gloomy, consider yourself my guest.” Princess Cadance eyed the yawning pegasus with a compassionate expression upon her face. “If you are going to do all of the work to hatch the egg, the least I can do is keep you as my guest. Once it hatches, we shall figure out what to do next. For now, you should get some sleep, my little pony.”

“Okay.” Gloomy curled up around the egg.

Beside the bed, Princess Cadance pulled a spare blanket out of a wardrobe, unfurled it and spread it over Gloomy. “We shall talk more in the morning, little Gloomy. Rest and recover, you have endured a trying ordeal. If you need anything, call out, and somepony will come, I promise.”

Stepping away from the bed, Princess Cadance realised that Gloomy was already asleep.

Author's Note

:trollestia: - I taught Cadance everything she knows.

Chapter 11

From the journal of Gloomy August—

The wind went still. I remember that day, waking up and feeling as though I should stay put. There was no great pressing need to go anywhere. Up to this point, the wind had pushed me, and pushed me, and any place I stayed for any length of time, I would feel the wind calling me, or maybe beckoning me if I wanted to talk all flowery.

It is a strange feeling for a pegasus to have the wind go still. The very wind that had driven me from my home in Ponyville was now gone, and I was a guest in the Crystal Empire. I think that maybe I was too exhausted to really appreciate that I had just met Princess Cadance, and when I met Prince Shining Armor in the morning, well, I might have treated him as though he was just another pony. But everything worked out! I’m still close friends with both of them and we stay in touch.

The wind might have deserted me, but other parts of my pegasus nature woke up. A powerful need to nest came over me, which was new for me. I mean, I can remember being a foal and making nests, but it never consumed me like it did when I had my egg. The need to make a nest was a frantic, almost uncomfortable thing, and to be honest, I’m not sure what I might have done had Princess Cadance not told me that it was perfectly natural.

She helped me through my awakening as I rediscovered parts of myself that had gone to sleep. And so much of me had gone to sleep. I was living day to day, going to work, paying my bills, all that stuff that us modern ponies have to do. At some point, some parts of me got bored and just went to sleepy town. About a year after my visit to the Crystal Empire, Princess Cadance told me that I was heading for a self-destructive implosion. A breakdown.

I guess it happens to a lot of ponies, but I wouldn’t know. I can only really write about what happened to me when I had a bad case of post-modern burnout. It was very, very hard to rediscover what it meant to be a pony again, and it was really unpleasant, like having to clean out the bathtub or shower drain of all the hair that gets stuck in there. And being ponies, we have a whole lotta hair. So much hair that many modern homes have a teensy-weensy little garbage disposal in the bath and shower drain.

Even now as I look back on it all, I can still remember that morning when I met one of my best friends, but I didn’t know it at the time. I was a little snippy because he was too close to my egg, and I was grumpy, and I was sore… but he was still so nice to me. Shining Armor is a class act.

Muzzy, not yet awake, Gloomy heard somepony in her room. Too many feelings to keep track of hit her all at once, panic, worry, aggression, the need to protect her egg, her nest, her space, plus all of the disorientation that comes with just waking up. With too many things going on upstairs, Gloomy’s instincts took over and she let the invader know how she felt with a feral, spine-tingling growl that reverberated deep within her barrel.

“Good morning to you as well,” a masculine baritone replied and there was the clink of glass on metal. “Cadance used to be a pegasus before her ascension, so I am used to ferocious sounds coming from beneath the blankets. I’ve brought you breakfast and a few gifts.”

Blinking, her vision blurry and her mouth oh so very dry, Gloomy’s head popped out from beneath the covers and she looked at the pony in her room. About a dozen blinks or so was all it took for her to realise that Prince Shining Armor was in her room, and he was wearing a pink, frilly apron. These things did not add up, and it took many more blinks to process this information.

“With certain guests, Cadance and I try for a more hooves on approach. Those with fragile conditions and the like. Cadance has you marked as high priority. I’ve brought you breakfast, there is a little bit of everything, there is some salve and an applicator for your sore wings, and there is a griffon egg sling-shawl-thingy so you can walk around and keep your egg with you. It has to stay warm, but you already know that.”

The smell of food caused Gloomy to begin drooling as she tried to get her eyes to focus on Shining Armor. She lifted her head, causing the blankets to slide down her neck, which tickled her and made her shiver. The egg had a reassuring weight to it as she cradled it between her forelegs.

“When you’re done eating and you’ve sorted yourself out, come to the throne room. The guards and servants will show you the way. It’s almost eleven in the morning and Cadance would like to speak with you before lunch, which we try to serve at one.” Shining Armor paused and rearranged a few flowers he had placed in a glass vase on the bedside table. “Everything you could ever want or need will be provided for you. Anything. You have but to ask. There are others here, also with fragile conditions, and I ask that you be mindful of them.”

“You have an apron. It’s pink.” Gloomy’s eyes narrowed and she watched as Shining Armor turned to face her.

“I didn’t want to splash anything on me. It’s not easy being a white pony. You have no idea how hard it is to keep clean. I envy you your colour.” Shining Armor lifted his head, smiled, and gestured at Gloomy’s breakfast. “If you tell me what you like, I’ll make certain that you get it tomorrow.”

And then, without further ado, Shining Armor departed while smoothing out his apron and whistling to himself, unconcerned by Gloomy’s grumpy frown and furrowed brows. When the door shut behind him, Gloomy relaxed a little and began to examine her tray, which was loaded down with just about every conceivable breakfast item one could imagine.

Ravenous, the grumpy, out of sorts pegasus tucked her egg beneath the warm, downy pillow she had rested her head on, and then she attacked her breakfast with the sort of savagery that only a hungry pegasus pony guarding her nest could have, taking out her feelings of aggression upon the food beside her bed. Much juice was spilt when she assaulted the fresh fruit, the innards of pastries squirted out their back ends, and many cereals met their ends by drowning, then devouring.

There were no survivors.

The egg sling was comfortable around her neck, and Gloomy was fond of the sunny yellow colour. The sling was insulated, padded, and did a good job of protecting her egg. Feeling out of sorts, but not knowing why, she made her way to the throne room, as requested. In no hurry, she stopped to look at everything around her, this crystal palace was a place of amazing beauty and after a night of rest, she was in a position to truly appreciate it.

“Throne room?” she asked as she looked at the pegasus pony guard with an orange pelt that stood out from the others. He also had a pleasant looking blue mane. For a guard, he seemed friendly and approachable. The other guards were too stern looking, as if they didn’t wish to be bothered while doing their statue impressions.

“This way, Ma’am,” the guard replied. “Straight down this corridor and through the double doors that will open as you approach. If they don’t open, just stomp your hoof a few times, they’re kind of old.”

“Thank you.” Gloomy smiled and moved on.

“Don’t mention it.”

Shuffling down the hall, still in no hurry, Gloomy passed a statue of Spike the Dragon, Hero of the Crystal Empire. She stopped to have a better look at it, and she admired the well made likeness of Spike, which was made entirely of different kinds of gemstones and crystals. Knowing Spike only as an acquaintance, Gloomy knew that the little dragon would eat this statue if given a chance.

Pausing, Gloomy watched as a guard led two small foals through the double doors into the throne room, and filled with curiousity, she hustled along so that she could see what might happen next. The doors opened as she approached and she caught sight of Princess Cadance sitting upon her throne, looking majestic and glorious. The guard marched the two foals, one a pegasus, the other a tiny unicorn, right up to the dias where Cadance’s throne was located.

In silence, Gloomy stood near the wall, by the double doors, watching and waiting as Cadance looked down at the two foals before her. Her face, patient, wise, and sad, was one of the most beautiful things that Gloomy had ever seen. It was obvious to anypony looking that Cadance loved.

“Tell me, brave little pegasus, what brings you to me?” Cadance asked.

“My sister’s heart is broken,” the little pegasus colt replied. “She won’t eat and she keeps crying.”

Leaning forward on her throne, Cadance looked down at the little unicorn filly. “Tell me what happened.”

“Our little brother was taken from us. The marm in the orphanage… she locked us away in a closet while he was being adopted and he was stolen away from us. He’s less than a year old… I couldn’t keep us together.” The little pegasus colt’s wings fluttered at his sides.

“I am sorry,” Cadance responded. “Tell me, what happened to your parents?”

“There was a fire,” the little unicorn filly replied as she began to sniffle and shudder.

“Our apartment caught on fire.” The pegasus colt sat down, wrapped a foreleg around his much smaller sister, and pulled her close. “My father wrapped my little sister and my little brother in a blanket and he gave them to me. I flew out the window… I wasn’t able to fly very far, they were too heavy, but I made it to the roof across the street.” As he spoke, the little unicorn filly’s body began hitching and the soft sounds of her sobbing filled the throne room.

Anger and sadness could be seen upon Cadance’s face now, and she eased herself from her throne. “Tell me, my brave little rescuer, how did you come to be here?”

“I sprung my sister and myself from the orphanage. We snuck onto a train and hid inside of a car full of wheat. I’ve heard stories about how you help ponies with broken hearts and I promised my sister that I would get her here and ask you to help us. We came a very long way, all the way from Fillydelphia.” The little colt scrubbed his eyes with his foreleg and the muscles in his jaw clenched.

“It is very difficult for me to make promises in cases such as this,” Cadance said, her voice soft, almost velvet, and she descended down the stairs from her throne to be with the two foals sitting on the floor. “I will, of course, do everything in my power to help you.”

“I’ll be your guard,” the colt offered, his voice cracking as he begged. “I’ll work for you. I’ll be a page colt. I’ll do anything you ask if you can fix my sister’s broken heart… I’ll give all of my life to you… just get my little brother back… I promised to look after them both and I broke my promise and I’m so ashamed and I—”

“Hush,” Cadance whispered as she sat down on the floor with the two foals. Wings unfurling, she wrapped them around the foals, pulled them closer, and embraced them. “I will do what I can, but keep in mind, new parents that just adopted have tender hearts. Perhaps an arrangement can be reached. The marm was very, very wrong to do what she did. I shall have to send my agents to have a word with her.”

With a gasp, the brave little colt broke down and began sobbing, hidden from view behind Cadance’s wings. Gloomy, who had watched all of this happen, stood there in shock, her eyes watering, and she thought about what Shining Armor had said about guests with fragile conditions. Wrapping her own wings around her egg, Gloomy felt her already wounded heart breaking yet again, a tear that she knew would never heal. She had trouble believing that her own kind was capable of such callousness, yet the evidence was before her.

“Here you go, Ma’am.”

Astonished, blinking, Gloomy stared at a cushion that had been brought for her to sit on. She looked at the orange guard with the blight blue mane and saw kindness in his eyes. Right after hearing a story about heartlessness, Gloomy had a reminder that the fires of kindness still burned bright.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Ma’am.” The pegasus paused for a moment, then added, “Do you need anything else, Ma’am? A drink perhaps?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

Bowing his head, the pegasus guard stepped out the door and returned to his rounds.

Sitting down upon the cushion, Gloomy watched as Cadance did her best to comfort the two little foals, humming to them, caressing them, and even going as far as kissing the wailing filly on the head. Clutching her own egg, Gloomy tried to sort out her own feelings, and found that she couldn’t. Everything was just too horrible and she too, began to cry.

Author's Note

There are no brakes on the feelz train.

Chapter 12

From the journal of Gloomy August—

In the Crystal Empire, I saw a lot of things that changed me forever. Ponies suffer a great deal, and so do others that share our world. Princess Cadance helps them all and all are welcome. During my time there, and I spent a long time there waiting for my egg to hatch, I saw all sorts of creatures come to Cadance for help. Diamond dogs, griffons, minotaurs, chimerae of different sorts, crossbreeds that couldn’t find anypony that might love them. There was even a changeling!

Princess Cadance turned nopony away. Nopony? Well, you know what I mean. All were welcome. Each princess has their own way of running things, I suppose, and of all the different princesses that I barely know, Princess Cadance impressed me the most. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know very much about how the other princesses run things, all I do know is that Princess Twilight has turned Ponyville into a place of tribal openness, I guess, I don’t know what else to call it, and Princess Cadance has turned the Crystal Empire into Equestria’s hospital.

Is that the right word?

In my time there, I saw a lot of sick ponies and other creatures, and not just physical illnesses. Princess Cadance and Prince Shining Armor deal with sick minds and broken hearts, and the Crystal Empire has become a place of healing. I was sick too, at the time, and my mind got pretty messed up. I had some pretty bad nightmares for a time after what I saw.

I still have trouble talking about it to this very day, and it is hard for me when Silver Lining asks me questions. I try to be brave, I try to be plucky, I try to be the fearless pegasus pony that she believes me to be, but every time I think about it, my guts clench and I feel sweaty in my wingpits.

Sometimes, a pony sees things and it changes them forever. I know, this happened to me.

“What will be done with the little pegasus?” Gloomy asked as she watched Cadance open up a bottle of Twilight~Cola. With the cap off, the scent of lavender and cucumber filled the air, which made Gloomy want to sneeze.

“Oh, I plan to put him to work,” Cadance replied before she took a drink. Tilting the bottle back, she emptied half of it in just a few large gulps.

“What?” Distressed, Gloomy couldn’t keep her worry or concern out of her voice.

Cadance grimaced as she swallowed a few times, squinting one eye while the other opened wide. At the moment, she didn’t look very princessly at all, and it was obvious that she didn’t care. “He’s a dutiful little pegasus colt and he is going to go out of his mind if he doesn’t have something to do, so I am going to hold him to his word and put him to work. I’m not sure what yet, but something that will make him feel important and fulfilled so he can feel like he is keeping his promise to me. If I don’t do this, he’s going to have some serious problems. I’ve seen his type before, plenty of times in fact, and if I don’t keep him busy, he’s going to have a breakdown.” Drawing in a deep breath, Cadance punctuated her words with a loud, gurgling belch that made her lips quiver and flap. “‘Scuse me.”

“That was a good one,” Gloomy responded, not giving it much thought, but being a polite pegasus pony nonetheless. One always praised the summoning of the wind, or the breakage of it, it was the way of the pegasus ponies since time immemorial.

“I know, right?” And without further ado, Cadance emptied the rest of the bottle of Twilight~Cola. She grimaced again, her nostrils flaring, and stomped her hoof against the floor. “I swear, this stuff is the only thing that helps my stomach sort itself out. I get terrible tummy troubles from stress and something about this particular soda helps. Shining seems to think it is the combination of the cooling cucumber and the hint of ginger. He says his mother says that ginger is good for a pony’s stomach.”

“I wouldn’t know.” After a moment, Gloomy added, “So, putting that little colt to work really is the best thing for him?”

Belching again, which came out as a long, gurgling hiss, Cadance nodded. She walked and Gloomy followed along beside her. Turning to look at the smaller pegasus mare beside her, Cadance said, “I understand your concern, but after helping ponies for a while, I figured out by accident that you have to deal with special sorts in special ways. If I was to put him into a room with his little sister and pamper him, he’d go bonkers. I’ve had it happen in the past and I ended up doing more harm than good.” Cadance paused for a moment, eyed her empty soda bottle, sighed, then continued, “It’s been painful, but I’ve learned from my mistakes, and there have been many.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gloomy replied. “So, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes.” Cadance made the empty bottle she was holding vanish with a flash of her horn and she nodded at a nearby guard who opened up a door ahead of them. “I wanted to check up on you and discuss a few things with you.”

“And those are?” Gloomy asked.

“First and foremost, I’ve spoken with one of the griffon ambassadors in Canterlot. She’ll be coming here soon by train. We’ve agreed to make you an official goodwill ambassador to Griffonstone and we’d like to milk a little bit of publicity from this if we can, with your permission of course.” Eyebrow arching, Cadance turned and gave Gloomy a questioning look.

“That’d be fine.” As she walked, Gloomy angled her head and looked down at the egg secured in the sling hung round her neck. “I suppose you want other ponies to adopt griffon eggs in need?”

“Yes.” The word almost came out as a sigh as Cadance exhaled. “Griffonstone is on the verge of total societal collapse and there is so much need for compassion. It pains me that we’ve done so little to help our neighbors.”

“We’ve been at war with them in the past—”

“That doesn’t matter,” Cadance said, a hard edge appearing in her voice. “We’re not at war with them now and they need to know that we have forgiven them and that they are our friends.” The large pink alicorn bristled a bit and the fine, silken hairs along her spine stood up. “This is why I’d like to have you as a goodwill ambassador and maybe parade you around a little bit, I want others to see what is possible when we put our differences aside.”

“I guess this is important to you, with you being the Princess of Love.” Gloomy’s muzzle scrunched up with many fine wrinkles as she thought about Cadance’s peace efforts and how difficult they must be for Cadance to be so emotional about this. Gloomy, who had learned the hard lesson of the difference of what just one pegasus can make, decided right then and there to throw in her lot with Princess Cadance. “Anything I can do to help, I will. Just let me know.”

“Good, I am relieved to hear you say that.” Cadance smiled, relaxed a bit, and her hackles began the slow process of smoothing themselves out. “Here we go, the sauna. Come with me, Gloomy, and let us continue our discussion in a place far more comfortable...”

Feeling refreshed and relaxed, Gloomy returned to her room to find a pile of nesting pillows, special pillows made just for pegasus ponies and griffons, creatures who made nests. Nesting pillows were long, noodly things, cylindrical, and there were buttons and loops on the ends to form rings. These rings could be stacked in a bed, forming a soft, comfortable nest.

Standing just inside her door, she thought of everything that Cadance had said, as well as the fact that she had a hard time seeing Cadance as a princess. In the sauna, Cadance was just another pony who had the same pony problems as anypony else. Not much was expected from Gloomy, other than what she was already doing, and what Cadance had asked her to do wasn’t arduous at all.

With careful, tender movements, Gloomy pulled the sling from her neck with her wings and placed it down upon the bed. It was warm from her body, so very warm, and after seeing that it was fine, Gloomy rubbed her velvety cheek up against it. She eased herself into her bed, and with the egg still in the sling, she wrapped her forelegs around it so that she might hold it close to her. The pegasus pony mare yawned a powerful uvula-waggling yawn that turned into a sleepy whine, held her egg a little closer, and then, closing her eyes, she drifted off to sleep in no time, a contented smile of blissful, maternal peace upon her face.

A soft, insistent knocking pulled her from her slumber and Gloomy somehow found the strength to lift her head so that she might open her eyes. Much to her half-awake surprise, she was still sore from her trip, even after time spent in the sauna. Her eyelids fluttered like a pegasus foal’s tiny, stubby wings during their first attempt at flight.

“Yes?” After speaking just one word, she discovered that her mouth was far dryer than she liked and her throat felt sandy.

The door opened and a familiar figure came in, followed by a second smaller figure. Gloomy’s fuzzy vision took several long seconds before it focused, and she saw that it was the pegasus colt from earlier. He was little, he was cute, and he was wearing decorative guard armor, which made Gloomy wonder where such a small suit of armor came from. He looked so very stern and serious, and even though she wasn’t awake, Gloomy thought of Cadance’s words from earlier.

“Miss August, it is almost time for dinner,” Shining Armor said to Gloomy in a calm, smooth voice that sounded a bit exaggerated from his usual means of speaking. “Now, Mistral, how does one address guests?”

The little colt peered up at Shining from beneath his helmet with glimmering, adoring eyes. “Ma’am?”

“That works.” The praise in his words came from the warm intonation that Shining gave them. “Now, can you tell her that dinner is almost ready?”

The little colt swallowed, did his best to stand at attention, tried to salute with one stubby wing as he clicked his front hooves and his back hooves against one another. “Ma’am, dinner's almost ready. Ya hungry? I know I am. I’m dyin’ down here.”

Unable to help herself, Gloomy began to giggle, and when she looked at Shining Armor, she saw nothing resembling amusement or mirth upon his face, but there was something about his eyes. He was laughing, no doubt, but his training as a soldier allowed him to hide it. The egg was warm against her neck and her body had created an island of heat that had permeated her mattress.

It would be difficult to leave the bed, no doubt.

“After dinner, there will be a movie in the theatre,” Shining Armor said to Gloomy as she checked her egg over. “And if movies aren’t your thing, a new audio drama will be started tonight. The record is brand new and isn’t scratchy yet.”

“I like phonograph serials.” The little colt looked up at Shining, as if seeking approval. “It’s like somepony reading a book to you, but with sound-effects.” The colt looked troubled for a moment as a dark cloud passed over his face. “My parents would buy the new issue of The Silver Seeker the moment it came out.”

“Forty eight minutes of pure bliss, eh?” Shining Armor tilted his head down and looked Mistral right in the eye. “Can you sit still that long?”

“Sometimes,” was the colt’s honest reply.

“Cadance and I listen to those as well.” Shining Armor somehow managed to look sad and smile at the same time while he sighed. “I bet you’ve missed a few episodes, haven't you?”

The colt’s eyes filled with tears and he held them back with a sniffle. “Just a few.”

“You’ve done very well today, Mistral. Once your duties are done, you may sit down with your sister and listen together. We’ll figure out where you left off.”

Inside of her barrel, something went all squishy and Gloomy found it hard to breathe. “I’ve listened to a few episodes of The Silver Seeker…” Head bobbing up and down, Gloomy continued, “Rainbow Dash listens to those with her tortoise, Tank. Just an honest, hardworking earth pony—”

“ —and his faithful locomotive,” Gloomy, Shining Armor, and Mistral all said together as one.

“Heh.” Gloomy laughed a bit, then added, “He’s always facing some crisis on the line, the mail is going to be late, or some very important pony needs to be somewhere at a certain time, there’s always some challenge to face.”

“And he always stresses the importance of a job done right and on time.” Shining Armor looked down at the colt standing near his hind leg and saw that the tears had been held back. “Me, I like all of the train noises.”

The colt nodded, causing his armor to clank.

“Cadance is going to give me the business if I’m late for dinner. Come, Mistral, we have other guests to rouse. We must be going. Gloomy, I hope to see you at dinner. If not, food will be brought to you.”

“I’ll be there,” Gloomy promised.

“Good, I’ll see you there,” Shining Armor nodded, turned around, and departed with Mistral following on his heels.

Author's Note

Mistral is an awesome name, if you know what it means.

Chapter 13

From the journal of Gloomy August—

Duty. I have seen creatures who live for duty. Mistral, the little colt I met in the Crystal Empire, he lives to serve. Looking back on it, I was so worried about Princess Cadance putting him to work, but it was the best thing she could have done for him. Even though he had such troubling circumstances, he seemed happy in service and he had a sort of pride about him while he dutifully followed Prince Shining Armor around.

Hachikō is another who lives for duty, and his sense of duty seems to be to inspire a sense of duty in others. I know he did for me, even though I did not see it at the time. I guess, looking back, I had only just begun to open my eyes at that point. Could it be described as waking up? It might. I learned how to be a better pegasus from a diamond dog, and he nurtured my sense of duty once it awoke.

Princess Cadance lives to serve and I saw that for myself. She has given all of herself to heal the crystal ponies of the Crystal Empire. Every day she works to restore them, to give them back their dignity, she heals them from Sombra’s awful rule. Shining Armor serves both his wife and his empire, and he is a happy pony. At least, I think he is. It seems to be that in servitude there is some sense of satisfaction, and I think about how we equines serve. Our cutie marks, each other, our Princesses.

Working on the weather team, I did my job and I existed. There was no sense of duty, of purpose. Every day, I woke up, I did my job to the best of my ability, and then I went home to my nice little house. I paid my bills and did my best to live within my means. Everything was fine and good until one day, one day I just couldn’t do it anymore. So I flew away and allowed the wind to take me.

Of course, I found Silver Lining’s egg, and that changed everything. Silver Lining changed everything. Suddenly, I had duty, I had purpose. I became a goodwill ambassador. I got my own royal rubber stamp and special stationery to show that I was a duly appointed agent of the Crown. As all of this happened, I also became a mother. A mother, a diplomat, a weather worker, and a writer. All of these journal entries, there’s been so many of them, and I guess, sometime in the future, long after I am gone, somepony will have a duty to read these, and learn something from them, and so I have a duty to tell all about how a pegasus flew away from home one day to find her purpose. How, with but one kind act, she changed the course of history and brought two nations into what seems to be a permanent alliance. The story is such a long one and it is still being told.

One pegasus with purpose can make a difference.

The Glass Gallery was a place often filled with the sounds of weeping, and Gloomy had certainly shed many of her own tears in this place. Today, so far, she was dry eyed, but the strange magic of this place—for it surely must be magic—was having quite an effect upon her. Yawning, she covered her mouth with one wing and shifted her weight from one haunch to another. Sleeping was difficult now, hard, it seemed that the moment her head hit the pillow the troubling dreams would start. A griffoness locked in mortal combat with a manticore. The blood—the horrifying scent of blood, coppery and electric—the torrent of splashing blood that flooded the dreamscapes of her mind and the memory of which left her troubled.

Her own actions and what she had done with the spear. Necessary though they might have been, some things, once done, had to be lived with. There was no going back, no return to sweet, unblemished innocence. Leaning over the Pool of Tears, Gloomy looked down at her own reflection and tried to make peace with it. Nearby, a magnificent statue of a unicorn known as Princess Amore wept a flood of tears that trickled down into the reflecting pool.

For a moment, looking down, she saw a stranger’s face looking back at her; a savage, feral pegasus scabbed over with blood, her teeth pink with it, her mane was matted and her eyes had a ferocious gleam. It was a pegasus from another time, from Equestria’s dark and bloody past… the Sanguine Age that she had learned about in school. Jerking her head back, Gloomy whimpered, terrified, and she wrapped one wing around the egg that was slung around her neck.

“Why do I keep seeing you?” Gloomy asked in a mumbled whisper as she avoided looking into the water. “What is the magic of this pool?”

In a nearby alcove, a grieving father wept and Gloomy’s ears pricked at the sound. Even in the depths of her own sorrow, compassion burned like a bright flame, and she felt pity for him. He was a father who had lost his son, a soldier, and he was a pony consumed with grief. Gloomy had spoken to him a few times, though never for long, because he could not hold back the flood.

Hearing the sound of hooves striking crystal, Gloomy realised that she was not alone. She wanted to look, but didn’t, it felt awkward sharing this place with others who were so troubled and sometimes grief wanted privacy. The hooves drew closer though, and closer, and closer still, until Gloomy realised that she was not alone. An older mare sat down just a leg’s length away, sighed, and grimaced as her old bones gave her trouble.

“Mrs. Milkweed—”

“Just Milkweed,” the old mare said, sounding tired.

Gloomy knew this mare. She was mourning her husband and grieving her own long life. A centenarian, she had outlived some of her own offspring. Milkweed was a pony that knew loss, having seen and endured much during her long life. Feeling conflicted, Gloomy scooted a little closer, and the withered, ancient unicorn of indeterminate faded grey colour didn’t seem to mind.

“This pool troubles you, does it not?” Milkweed asked.

Scooting even closer, Gloomy nodded.

“When I first started working at Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, it was a troubled time.” The old mare’s voice sounded dry, almost papery, like leaves rustling together in the wind. “Change was coming. The nation was tearing itself apart. Princess Celestia was so alarmed by everything happening, so very much troubled by it, that she had me teaching offensive spells to her students. I was good at them, you see.”

When the old mare leaned over, Gloomy was glad for the contact, and waited for the story to continue, knowing that Milkweed would eventually reach a point. As a very old teacher, the mare couldn’t help but lecture and educate. It was just her way, and Gloomy didn’t mind. In fact, she welcomed the distraction.

“We had that nasty business with Equestria’s uncivil war… a few separatists went a little too far and began to force their opinions on others. There was much unpleasantness, for a time.” The old mare snorted and when she scowled, her face had an impossible number of wrinkles. “Time passed, because that is what time does, and after about thirty or so years of working as a teacher for Princess Celestia, I was promoted to a Professor and I was put in charge of teaching history. I have no idea why. That was over fifty years ago.”

Some of the wrinkles fell away and the old mare chuckled a bit, amused by her own joke.

Reaching out a hoof, she gestured at the statue of Princess Amore, and then down at the Pool of Tears. For a time, she seemed as though she was about to say something, and even though her mouth moved, no words came forth. One ear quivered, the other ear twitched, and the old mare leaned even more against Gloomy, shivering a little.

Eventually, as words must do, they came.

“An eon ago, a young colt looked into this pool and saw a monster staring back. He saw shadows, death, fire, and smoke. Word has it that this troubled him, and so he told his only friend about it. So she looked into the pool, and she saw a princess. At least, that is how some versions of the story are told. Other versions of this story say they looked into the Crystal Heart and had their visions of the future. Something happened though, because Sombra preserved this statue and this pool even as he descended into utter madness. To tamper with it in any way was death, swift and certain.”

“But what does the pool do?” Gloomy asked as her impatience got the best of her.

“Near as I can tell, it shows us what we fear the most, or what we regret the most,” the old mare replied. “Word has it, from the slaves who served here in the palace, King Sombra gazed into this pool and wept many bitter tears. Some of the water down below is no doubt his, and the tears of many others. Each of those tears carry just a little spark of magic, so it is hard to say just what sort of magic this pool has evolved over time.

With cautious apprehension, Gloomy leaned forwards, peered over the edge, and down at the reflection that she saw in the water. It was, for now, herself, just as she was, nothing more, nothing less. It was confusing for her to think that some of her tears might have mingled with King Sombra’s, and she didn’t know how she should feel about such a thing. Compassion for a monster… this thought troubled her, mostly because she was the one thinking it, and a stern, flinty voice from the back of her mind reminded her that some ponies thought that griffons too, were monsters.

Chastised, Gloomy’s ears fell and her eyes began to glaze over with tears as she thought of her own reflection, the bloodied one, the savage, feral pegasus with bloody warpaint. Now, it seemed, compassion for a monster seemed far more reasonable, and she reminded herself that the troubled tyrant was once a pony, he had even been a colt once, and he had a friend. He had feelings.

And if the stories could be believed, regrets.

“This place has its own magic,” Milkweed said as she peered up at the beatific statue of Princess Amore. “Sombra filled this place with shadows, and Princess Cadance has infused her own essence into the crystal. A strange mix has happened. In the Glass Gallery in particular, I have observed much strange magic, unknown magic, and there is something about this place that makes one examine the foundations of one’s soul. There is no place in Equestria quite like it.”

Blinking, Gloomy pulled her head back, fearing the sight of her own shadow looking up at her from the pool. Aware of the darkness within herself now, she cuddled her precious egg with her wing and feared what she could be. What she might be. She was a pegasus pony and she had learned much of what she was capable of during her journey. The storm had taught her much and she was far, far braver than she had previously believed. As for the day when she had found her egg…

“What do you see when you look into the pool?” Gloomy hoped that she wasn’t being rude, but she really, really wanted to know.

“A long life,” Milkweed replied, “that stretches ever-longer. I am old and my bones are tired. My husband is gone and he was the only pony who could pull me from my melancholy. While I love my foals, and my grandfoals, and my great-grandfoals, and even my great-great-grandfoals, it seems that I have become a burden to them. A nuisance. At least, I feel that way. They’re not even allowed to play around me, because Grandmare is old and sickly and needs her rest.”

With her own troubles forgotten, Gloomy wrapped her wing around the old mare and sat there, not knowing what to say or how to respond to such a thing. Would her bloody reflection do this? Offer comfort to another? Or would she be a creature given only to carnage? During the Sanguine Age, a pony was an old pony in their twenties—just two decades, that was the allotment, and those that saw twenty were considered lucky. Milkweed was a centenarian… five glorious lifetimes. Five lives’ worth of history. She had taught longer than some ponies had lived, or had been alive.

What might a cutie mark do when one had lived too long? Did the nagging demands of duty lessen when faced with infirmity? What purpose could one serve at such an advanced age? When she was too old to flap her wings, would she still have an itch to work the weather? Would she look out the window and pine for a task she could no longer do? What was the purpose of life if one lived for so long that they became useless and purposeless?

With one wing, Gloomy held on to a pony whose life might soon be ending, and with the other she cradled and kept warm another life that might soon begin. As a mare, as a pony, Gloomy herself was somewhere in the middle; she had been born, she had grown up, and she had existed, but she wasn’t certain if she had lived. Ears pinned back in submission, once more, Gloomy leaned her head over the edge to have another glance into the pool, still fearing what she might see…

Author's Note

This was never dead, it was pining for the fnords.

Chapter 14

From the journal of Gloomy August—

Waiting is the worst. Somehow, I endured my strange pregnancy, and Princess Cadance assured me that it was a pregnancy for me. I was hormonal, I gained weight, I was grumpy, and my mental state gradually changed as it dawned on me that I was going to be a mother. It was a strange transition too, because it was so unexpected. One minute I was on a whirlwind adventure trying to find myself and the next I was in the Crystal Empire sitting on an egg. What gives?

My custodial helmet also changed, going from handsome headwear to a nest. The egg fit in there so perfectly, even with a warm blanket wrapped around it. It gave me peace of mind, too, because the helmet was hard and protective, and any little peace of mind improved my mood. I must confess, there were times when my mood was pretty awful. Shining Armor threatened to put me in armor and have me guard the Crystal Heart because I was so fierce.

Even now, all these years later, as I look back on these events, I can still remember the day that everything changed, the day that Silver Lining existed. It still makes me misty eyed to think about it, and even now, I can feel a tug on my heartstrings. Seeing her outline inside of her egg for the first time changed me as a pony, forever altering everything about me. Nothing would ever be the same. At that moment, Silver Lining wasn’t just a precious egg, no, she was a creature, a living being that was so very helpless and exposed, with only an eggshell to protect her from the world. The pressure this put on me was unbelievable and I don’t know how griffons do it.

Thankfully, I had friends coming and I just didn’t know it yet.

“Miss August, if you could please try to calm down, it would be very much appreciated. Thank you. I assure you, your egg will be fine. Just a few tests, a checkup, and a candling.” With a cool calm, the doctor placed the naked egg down upon the padded scale to check its weight and Gloomy let out a powerful snort.

“Nurse Waffles, looks like we’ve lost one point five grams—”

“Weight loss?” Gloomy lunged forwards, but was held back by Nurse Waffles, who stroked her neck to ease her anxiety.

“Weight loss is normal as an egg approaches the time for hatching.” The doctor leveled his calm, serene gaze upon Gloomy and gestured at the egg on the scale. “A little of the moisture evapourates out through the shell and a little air seeps in. Miss August, I do believe you’ll be in for a bit of a shock when we candle the egg.”

Gnawing on her lip, Gloomy allowed herself to be held by Nurse Waffles, and she sank back into the unicorn mare’s comforting embrace. The egg, her egg, lay on the scale, secure on some padding. Fretting, she rubbed her front hooves together and her wings slapped against her well-padded sides a few times.

“Miss August, this sympathetic pregnancy of yours concerns me. You’ve gained almost twenty pounds in two weeks and this is worrisome. How have you been sleeping?”

“Not good,” Gloomy replied while she squirmed against the nurse and wished that her egg was covered. It just had to be getting cold. “I’m tired and cranky all the time but I can’t sleep. I wake up panicky and feel so alone.”

The doctor lifted the egg from the scale and held it in the soft orange glittery glow of his magic. It changed colour, turning pink for a moment, alarming Gloomy to no end, and she could feel Nurse Waffles redoubling her grip around her, followed by the words, “Woah, steady girl,” being whispered into her ear.

“You have a girl,” the doctor said while the egg transitioned back to its pale white colour. “Congratulations, Miss August.”

“A girl?” Too stunned to respond in any other way, Gloomy sank back against the nurse and stared at her egg.

“For pegasus ponies, and especially pegasus ponies who have endured trauma, nesting instincts can be rather powerful. I have a guess about your problem, though I can’t say for certain. You don’t have a nestmate to keep watch while you sleep and I wonder if having somepony watch over you while you are sleeping might help.”

“Doc, I have some trust issues—”

“Oh, I know.” The doctor’s eyes darted down to the bandage around his foreleg and when he looked at Gloomy again, the suggestion of a smirk could be seen lurking on his muzzle. “I will say, Miss August, this sympathetic pregnancy of yours is quite fascinating. How the different tribes handle pregnancy is of great interest to me. Pegasus ponies and their fierceness stands out in sharp contrast to how earth ponies and unicorns behave.”

Gloomy too, glanced at the bandages around the doctor’s leg and felt a stabbing pang of guilt. The taste of blood, his blood, was still strong in her memory, as well as the sensation of her teeth parting flesh and grazing bone. She had been startled by the doctor’s sudden appearance and then he had tried to take her egg. Gloomy couldn’t even clearly recall the moment leading up to the chomp, just a confusing red haze. Now, Gloomy was a special patient, a patient that was hugged into submission by Nurse Waffles during every visit with the doctor.

“Doc, if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get so much know-how about griffons?”

The doctor, an older stallion, slumped back in his chair—which creaked beneath his weight—and his eyebrows sagged as if he was tired. “I’m an old military sawbones. A doctor for the Royal Navy. When I started this post, I didn’t know a thing about griffon physiology. I lost a few patients, something I’ve never forgiven myself for.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Gloomy asked, intrigued. “In the Crystal Empire?”

“You’d think after a lifetime of extraordinary service that the guilt would go away, but it hasn’t. So I came here, to this place, to join Princess Cadance’s ever-growing stable of doctors and specialists. Almost all of us are here for some reason. There’s something about this place and about Princess Cadance’s mission that’s good for the mind. But that’s neither here nor there. How about we do a little candling, Miss August?”

With the overhead lights now turned off, the only source of active illumination was the doctor’s horn. Gloomy tried to make herself relax, but this only increased her nervousness somehow. The doctor had her egg and held it in his glowing telekinetic field. After a moment, it was sat down on something resembling a suction cup and Gloomy waited with bated breath, not knowing what she might see.

When the doctor flicked on the background light, Gloomy wasn’t sure what she saw at first, as it was far too confusing.

“That glowing bit at the top, that’s the air cell, and it looks fine. The dark reddish bit down at the bottom, well, there’s your little girl. Can’t see much detail, I’m afraid. The egg is fully viable and I expect for it to hatch soon. All of your hard work has paid off, Miss August. I think everything is going to be fine.”

“How long?” Gloomy asked while every muscle in her body tugged and pulled taut against themselves.

“Twenty-one to twenty-eight days, give or take. It’s already been a little over two weeks, so not much longer now. You’re going to be a mother, and a very special one at that.”

Stunned, Gloomy fell back against Nurse Waffles, her ears ringing while her heart pounded against the confines of her throat. She thought back to the day when she had come across the griffon and the manticore—a dreadful day—and of each day that had come after. Eyes burning, Gloomy’s vision fuzzed over and she could no longer see the egg in front of the candling lamp. She clutched at the nurse’s foreleg, overcome with a terror that she could not comprehend, and for a moment she worried that she might pass out because she couldn’t breathe no matter how hard she tried.

Against impossible odds, the egg had survived. A brutal chance encounter in the wilderness, a stubborn mother who somehow held on for help… and one pegasus who had been carried by the wind, in the right place at the right time. Which all lead to… now, this moment, this miraculous impossible moment.

The griffoness’ final words still echoed in Gloomy’s ears, even now: You will find a way. Against all hope, a rescuer came for me. Do what you must. These words had infected her dreams and could be heard almost every night. What sort of griffoness had the fallen warrior been? A fighter, obviously, but also so much more. An optimist, just like Gloomy herself was. Gloomy believed in the good in the world, and that things would just sort of work themselves out somehow. And for this egg, they had.

“There is still some good to be had,” Gloomy said to herself, remembering that day, that moment, in perfect clarity. “There is always a silver lining in even the darkest cloud.” Overcome with emotion, Gloomy pressed herself against Nurse Waffles and wept.

The hallway leading to the throne room was lined with ponies and Gloomy—a common sight in these passages—paced its length as she had done hundreds of times before. Sometimes, she was able to cheer somepony up, or make them smile, or make the wait a little more bearable. There were so many seeking help today, and there was only one Princess Cadance—just one.

Seeing the doctor had left her unsettled, shook up, and in need of sorting out. Helping others, she had found, was the best way to get sorted out, and Milkweed, the ancient mare, was also prowling these halls, no doubt looking for just the right pony to assist. You could just be walking along and sure enough, it would happen. Something might catch your eye, or you’d get a feeling, or a hunch, but something would happen and you’d find yourself in a heart to heart with somepony, because that is how this place worked.

The Crystal Empire and the Crystal Heart called every troubled soul to them, every mind beset with weighty thoughts, and every broken spirit in need of mending. Around her neck, her egg was a reassuring weight held snug in its sling. Her hooves made little sound against the crystal floor, as she had been here long enough to learn how to be quiet. Just as she was about to turn around to wander off and find food, she saw him.

“Hachikō?” Gloomy felt her barrel constrict from the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “Hachikō, is that really you?” Frozen, rooted to the floor, Gloomy tilted her head back so she could glance up at the tall, forlorn-looking diamond dog. The sad expression vanished almost at once, his tail wagged a few times, and then, he kneeled down to the floor to be closer to her.

“Hello, Gloomy.” Hachikō bowed his head and his ears fell back against his skull. “I have come here seeking purpose, because my life feels empty. Before you left, you gave me much to think about. How about you, Gloomy? Why are you here?”

“Oh, Hachikō… some bad things happened. I came upon a manticore and a griffon and they battled to the death. Now I have an egg and I’m going to be a mother. I’m going through a sympathetic pregnancy. I was so messed up by what I saw that it busted something in my brain and now I keep seeing a blood-soaked nightmare version of myself in the Pool of Tears in the Gallery of Glass.”

“You have found purpose.” Hachikō somehow managed to bow his shaggy head a little more. “For this, you are blessed. You are female and blood is symbolic of much of your life and existence, tiny winged one.”

“How so?” Gloomy asked.

“Is not new life forged with blood? Does not a female bring new life into the world awash with her own blood? Does she not sometimes die to continue life? All things valuable are paid for with blood, and this is doubly true of females.”

“Uh… I dunno.” Gloomy shrugged, not fully sure what any of this meant. Every single feather of hers fluffed out, the hair along her spine rose, and at the base of her neck, her scruffle erupted into an inviting pooft that was in sore need of smoothing out. “It is such a relief to see you, Hachikō. It’s been so hard and so confusing. Where are Jasper and Gleamgood?”

“I could go and fetch them for you if you’d like—”

“Oh, that’d be great!” Gloomy gushed as her knees flexed, which made her whole body bob up and down. “I really need my friends right now. Any friends. Hachikō, I realised that I haven’t made very many friends in life. Existing is not living.”

The diamond dog shook his head from side to side.

“Oh, I have so much to tell you… oh, you don’t have to find them right now, don’t give up your spot in line! I’ll sit here with you. I’ve met Princess Cadance and I am sure that she will help you. This is about you leaving Inujima, isn’t it? Still having trouble with that?”

This time, the aged dog nodded.

“This is the right place to get sorted out… really, it is. Trust me.”

Author's Note

This story is hatching a plot.

Chapter 1

“Um, Boss, do you have a moment?”

Rainbow Dash looked up from her map of Ponyville and the surrounding region, her neck making an eye-widening crackle as she did so. The sky blue pegasus reached up with her hoof and rubbed her neck. Having to be responsible made her irritable and was an actual physical pain in her neck.

She looked at the pegasus speaking to her, waiting, smiling and patient. Dash found herself grinning. Gloomy August. Rain Specialist, First Class. She had a talent for turning any cloud she touched into a rain cloud. The dark grey pegasus was likeable, cheerful, and a hard worker. She made dull jobs tolerable.

“What’s up?” Rainbow Dash asked. She watched as Gloomy brushed her dark, dull purple mane from her eyes. If ever there was a pony that did not fit their name or how they looked, it was Gloomy.

“I need to speak with you. It’s about a personal matter,” Gloomy said to Rainbow in a chipper sounding voice. The dreary looking pegasus smiled and blinked her olive coloured eyes. “I think I need some time off.”

“Oh.” Rainbow nodded. “I understand. You have some vacation time coming.”

“No, I don’t think a week is going to do it.” Gloomy’s smile widened and her olive green eyes twinkled. “Nope, a week just won’t do at all.”

“Two weeks?” Rainbow Dash asked, raising her eyebrow.

Gloomy, her smile never fading, looked thoughtful. Then, in a rare moment, her smile became a straight line and little wrinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes. She shook her head. “Nope.” After a moment, the corners of her mouth curled upwards again.

“What’s the deal, Gus?” Rainbow Dash reached up and rubbed her aching neck again.

“I’m tired of making it rain. I’m tired of being the source of other ponies unhappiness. I’m tired of ruining picnics, birthday parties, and cute-ceañeras. I’m tired of ponies grabbing their umbrellas when I fly overhead.” Gloomy’s ears splayed out sideways, and her smile looked a little tired.

“Gloomy, you’re a pegasus. You have a gift. You make rain clouds… we need you.” Rainbow Dash scowled and twisted her head around, trying to get her neck to pop again. “Take a vacation. You’ll feel better.”

“Rainbow Dash,” Gloomy began, and then paused for a long, drawn out silent minute. The pegasus took a deep breath. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“What are you planning on doing?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“I plan to go wherever the wind takes me. I’m a pegasus. I want to ride the wind. I want to see the world. See other clouds. Look at other places besides Ponyville. I do the same thing day after day. I can’t do it anymore,” Gloomy replied.

“You know what, Gloomy? I respect that. Sometimes, a pegasus needs to go wherever it is that the wind blows them. Sometimes… sometimes I don’t think our kind was ever meant to settle down in one place. I think that’s why Cloudsdale moves.” Rainbow Dash looked down at the map, her face troubled. Gloomy was a valuable asset, but rainclouds could always be procured from the weather factories in Cloudsdale. “Go… just… go and be happy. When the wind brings you back, if it brings you back, you’ll have a job here waiting for you, if you want it.”

“Thank you, Rainbow Dash.”

“Eh, what are friends for?” The sky blue pegasus grinned and looked up just in time to see Gloomy coming right at her. Dash held out a hoof, trying to keep the hug happy pegasus away. Her and Derpy both—disasters just waiting to happen.

The dark grey pegasus was not a fast pegasus, but she was a strong pegasus. Dash found herself swept up in a fierce, crushing hug. Something in her neck crackled alarmingly, and then Rainbow Dash felt pins and needles in all seven of her extremities. There was another squeeze, another loud pop, and then Dash let out a grunt of relief as the terrible aching pressure in her neck subsided. She felt herself lowered back down into her chair and she sat there, limp, and unable to move.

“You know, sleeping in Applejack’s tree is what’s destroying your neck. Try laying flat.”

Well then, the hardest part was over. Gloomy wasn’t quite sure what to do next. She was certain that Rainbow Dash was going to talk some sense into her. Gloomy hadn’t counted on Rainbow Dash telling her to go. Gloomy stood in her small cottage and looked around. It was a tiny little cottage on the edge of Ponyville. The prudent pegasus liked to live below her means. She didn’t need a lot of space. A small efficient kitchen, a cosy little sitting area, a bedroom just big enough for a bed as well as a bookshelf, and a bathroom with a wonderful shower. The hardwood floors were a little warped, but were polished and clean. The wallpaper was a little faded, but it wasn’t too bad. At least Gloomy had wallpaper. There was no sense in complaining that it was faded.

Stepping from the sitting area into the kitchen, Gloomy looked down at the newspaper on the kitchen table. She thought about the nice couple that had appeared in the paper. A nice young stallion and a very pleasant sounding mare that were out living on the road, having adventures, doing good deeds, and living as though the world was their classroom. The nice young stallion had dreams of being a botanist and the nice mare had a doctorate or two in geology. It was such a happy, feel good story. It sounded like such a wonderful plan. Just step outside of your door and have an adventure. It was that easy. The newspaper kept printing different versions of the same article, and had been doing so for quite some time.

Gloomy had never been on an adventure before, unless you counted the ones she had taken in books. She had read every Daring Do novel there was, like any good pegasus should do. Daring Do was a good role model, the epitome of charm, wit, and grace. Daring Do would just throw a dart at a map, grab her pith helmet, unfurl her wings, and then go off on an adventure. Gloomy looked down at the newspaper again. That Mister Teapot fellow in the paper was said to be wearing a pith helmet. He had lived here in Ponyville, born and raised, before he had been banished. Gloomy had faint memories of Mister Teapot. He was a bit grumpy as she recalled, but she supposed that he was just unhappy because he hadn’t gone on his adventure yet, or found his wife and dancing partner. Not having a dancing partner was an acceptable excuse to be grumpy. He had said in the interview that being banished had been the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

For a moment, Gloomy wondered what she might have to do to get banished by Twilight Sparkle, but then she pushed that thought from her mind. She needed a pith helmet first. That seemed to be an important part of adventuring. Daring Do went into danger and certain death to rescue her lucky pith helmet.

Perhaps a list was in order. Procure pith helmet, a pair of saddlebags suitable for adventuring, and then go and inquire with Twilight Sparkle about how one got banished by decree of a princess. It seemed simple enough. Gloomy’s ever present smile turned into a toothy grin. This wasn’t complicated at all.

It was time for a little retail therapy. Gloomy liked shopping.

Looking at the selection of hats, Gloomy sighed. She stood in the aisle, looking all around, wondering if she was going to have to go to Canterlot. There were some nice hats, but these were not adventuring hats. These were just… hats. And some of them looked flimsy.

“Need something miss?” A tall knobby kneed old unicorn stallion peered through his glasses, squinting one eye, and his old ears were limp against his head.

“I need a pith helmet,” Gloomy replied in a chipper voice.

“Oh my… by the sacred white alicorn, I haven’t had anypony ask for one of those since the year nine hundred and sixty or so… pert near forty years ago… there was a fad, some young colts from Liverypool started singing and came to Equestria… The Buckles. Nice colts. Had long manes. Caused a panic and a lot of fainting fillies.” The old stallion stared off into nothingness and a faint smile crossed his muzzle.

Gloomy tapped him, giving him a gentle touch to bring him back to reality. “Do you know where I can get one?”

“I have a pith helmet in storage. It’s from the nine sixties… black… a custodial helmet from the Trottingham bobbies.” The old stallion blinked and began chewing his lip.

“What’s a custodial helmet and what’s a bobby?” Gloomy asked.

“A custodial helmet is what the police wore in Trottingham. It’s a pith helmet, peaked, made of cork and covered in thick black felt on the inside, with heavy frocked and oiled black canvas on the outside. A bobby was a police officer. I used to sell a lot of goods from over there back when the Buckles invaded Equestria. Everypony wanted to be like the ponies over there.” The old stallion’s ear flapped a bit and he trotted off on trembling knees.

“Sir?” Gloomy asked.

“Hold on, Miss, I’m going upstairs. I always knew that this day would come!”

Gloomy was almost beside herself when the stallion returned, carrying with him a dusty, cobwebby box. He headed for a display table, his old knees popping and creaking. He held the box aloft in a pale golden glow that emanated from his horn.

The old unicorn set the box down on the table, smiled at Gloomy, and then, with a showpony’s flourish, he pulled the lid off. He pulled out something covered in crinkly old plastic that began to fall apart right away, flaking off and falling from a black hat.

The custodial helmet was a pith helmet alright. It looked just like Daring Do’s helmet was described in the books and the illustrations of Daring Do on the book covers. It was black, a good bit larger than Gloomy thought it would be, and had a shiny silver band around the base of the crown, where the brim protruded.

Without warning, it was placed down upon her head. The helmet swallowed her ears and almost slid down to her eyes. Just as she was getting used to the weight on her head, it was pulled off again. Gloomy watched as the old stallion adjusted some straps inside of the helmet. It appeared as though the actual helmet itself didn’t sit upon the head, but was suspended by a series of straps and headband.

“If you get hot, dunk this in water. The cork will act like a sponge. As the water evapourates, your head will stay cool,” the old stallion explained. “This is what ponies wore before there was air conditioning.”

“Neat,” Gloomy replied in a chirpy voice.

Once more, the black pith helmet was placed upon her head. This time, the fit was perfect. It covered her ears and the short brim extended over her eyes. She liked it. She liked it a lot. “I’ll take it.”

“Will this be all?” the old stallion asked.

“Do you have any saddlebags in black that will match?” Gloomy gave the old stallion a hopeful look and her best smile.

“As a matter of fact, I do… custodial bags, designed to match the helmet...”

Once more at home, Gloomy wasn’t sure what to pack. She needed a blanket, that much was obvious. How else would she stay warm? She needed some food. She had a plastic water bottle. She grabbed her journal and her pencil. She always promised to write more journal entries, but never got around to doing it. Ponies were encouraged to write journals by the princesses because journals offered a sense of history from the perspective of the ponies who lived through it. Well kept journals could offer insight and wisdom into various moments of history from the many different sets of eyes that witnessed it.

Gloomy August wasn’t very good at keeping up with her civic duty. There were always more important things to do than writing in an empty book.

Moving about her cottage, she grabbed a few final things, stuffing them into her bags. She had cleaned out the fridge of anything that might spoil, giving it all to a neighbor, she had closed all of the shutters over the windows. It was time to go. All she needed to do now was go out her front door, close it behind her, and lock it.

All that was left after that was getting banished by Twilight Sparkle.

Princess Twilight Sparkle’s Crystal Friendship Castle was not the most approachable building. The princess herself was said to be open to visitors, but a castle was intimidating. Gloomy hovered near the doors, unsure of what to do or what the proper social etiquette was for visiting a princess in her big, intimidating, unapproachable castle. Was it proper to knock? She didn’t see a doorbell. It wasn’t at all like visiting a neighbor’s home, knocking on the door, and then waiting to be invited inside.

After a few moments of worry, Gloomy thought to herself, What’s the worst thing that could happen? She put on her best ‘Hello Princess’ smile, hoped her wings looked presentable, adjusted her new pith helmet, raised her hoof, and rapped upon the large door.

Each gentle tap produced a booming, echoing knock. Gloomy cringed.

Gloomy waited, humming to herself, being a patient pegasus. She dropped down out of her hover and stood on the landing. She folded her wings against her sides and wondered if she should knock again. She didn’t want to be rude. A castle was enormous, it probably took Twilight forever and day just to answer the front door.

Just as she raised her hoof to knock again, the door opened.

“Hello?” Princess Twilight Sparkle stood in the doorway, looking a little winded.

“Hiya, my name is Gloomy August.” Gloomy’s reply was cheerful, chipper, and chirpy. “I was wondering if I might ask a favour.” She watched as Twilight’s expression changed to one of curiousity.

“Of course… I exist to serve the public,” Twilight said, her response warm and genuine. “What is it that I can do for you? Would you like to come inside and talk?”

“Oh, I’m certain that you are a very busy pony.” Gloomy cleared her throat and her wings twitched against her sides. “Twilight Sparkle, I need for you to banish me.”

Twilight blinked a few times as she tried to process the pegasus’ request. “What?”

“I plan to go on an adventure. Like that nice Mister Teapot fellow. But first, I would like to be banished. Would you please banish me?” Gloomy’s smile shifted to one of delicate need.

“I can’t just banish you.” Twilight snorted and then started to laugh.

“Why not?” Gloomy asked.

“Well, you haven’t done anything wrong. Look, banishment is a punishment. And Tarnished Teapot is no longer banished. That was a misunderstanding,” Twilight replied, offering a brief explanation of the situation at hoof.

“But Mister Teapot said that his banishment was the greatest thing that ever happened to him. I would like to be banished as well.” Gloomy’s voice was now pleading and she gave Twilight the best puppy dog eyes she could muster.

“You can just go… fly away. If you want to have an adventure, just… fly away.” Twilight Sparkle shook her head. “You’re like the fourth or fifth pony that has asked me to banish them. Banishment isn’t something to take lightly.”

Gloomy, always the optimist, always hopeful, had a wonderful idea. She had a brilliant, spectacular, wonderful idea. She needed to do something wrong if she wanted to be punished. Twilight had made that rather clear, in a roundabout sort of way. The dark grey pegasus held out her hoof. “Excuse me, one moment, I shall be right back if you will wait on me.”

“Sure, why not. I needed a break from my studies.” Twilight watched as the pegasus flew away. She stepped out of the doorway and had a look around Ponyville. The late afternoon was pleasant, the sun was shining, and Rarity was having a sale by the looks of things.

As Twilight was having a good look around, Gloomy was wrangling a cloud. It had already turned grey from her touch, and a little flash of static illuminated the cloud for a brief second. She gave the cloud a rough shove to make it tempermental. The cloud responded by turning darker, becoming angrier.

Gloomy shoved the cloud over Twilight’s head and gave it a swift kick. The little cloud, incensed by Gloomy’s mistreatment, let go a cloudburst over Twilight, soaking the alicorn below. A cute, teeny tiny lightning bolt reached down and zapped Twilight on her horn, causing the now soaked alicorn’s mane and tail to frazzle out in all directions, which the pouring rain quickly drenched back down.

Scowling, dripping, Twilight Sparkle looked up at the pegasus. Twilight Sparkle remembered Cadance’s lessons. It was never good to be angry. She took a deep breath, sucking water up her nose as she did so, and almost choked. She was soaked to the skin and her pelt was waterlogged. Other ponies had stopped to rubberneck. Behind her, Spike was laughing. One sopping wet ear began to twitch, and the corner of Twilight’s eye vibrated.

“Gloomy August… from this moment forward, you are banished from the city of Ponyville, until such a time that you make a public apology to me,” Twilight said. As she spoke, the cloud gave her another zap with a tiny lightning bolt, striking her horn. Twilight held on to her calm.

“Oh, thank you. When I come back, I’ll tell you how dreadfully sorry I am over tea,” Gloomy said as she swooped down to hover near Twilight. “To make it up to you, I’ll try to keep up with my journal entries.”

“Just… go.” Twilight lifted up her right front leg that had rivulets of water streaming down it. She pointed. “Get out. Good luck. Sheesh, some ponies—BZZZT!—all you had to do was go.” Twilight glanced up at the cloud that had just zapped her for the third time, shook her head, and then stepped out from beneath the cloud.

Off in the distance, there was pealing laughter and Twilight Sparkle swore to herself that a certain rainbow maned pegasus was going to get it. She watched as Gloomy waved and offered an apologetic smile.

“Goodbye Twilight Sparkle, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Gloomy said as she took off, flapping her wings and flying away.

Author's Note

And so... we're off on an adventure.

Let me know what you think below.

Chapter 3

From the journal of Gloomy August—

The storm, and its aftermath, I do not even know where to begin. I flew into a feral cyclone that had blown inland. After rescuing those two foals, I myself was rescued by the Royal Guard and Princess Luna. She pushed the storm back towards the sea. It was amazing to watch.

I had my first chance to meet the Night Guard. I don’t know what to call them exactly, I don’t know if they have a name like earth ponies, pegasi, or unicorns do. I don’t know what to call their tribe. They’re part reptile! I swear, it’s true! I made friends with one. He’s a little scary looking and I’ll admit I was a little afraid of him at first, but he’s actually really nice and kind.

I suppose I learned something from him and that is to never judge by appearances. He’s got big fangs and scary looking dragon wings and weird thumb thingies on his wings and he has smoke coming out of his nostrils and he might have some bad breath, but he can’t help that. He was kind. He was gentle. He was handsome in his own way… yup.

After the big storm, I got to see the aftermath. I got to see ponies helping one another. I learned that what I believe, that ponies are inherently good, is true. I saw strangers helping strangers. I saw mothers looking after strange foals not their own. I saw miracles in the form of kindness and generousity.

Not to be a selfish pony, but if I could have one reward for my bravery, I would like to meet Warden Wormwood again. He left an impression on me. I would very much like to talk to him and get to know him better.

In the far distance, lightning flashed and thunder crackled. Gloomy watched the retreating storm with a wary eye, her pegasus blood rushing through her veins. The feral storm had left her unnerved, shaken, and she was still trying to calm herself.

She, along with many others, had been left in a makeshift camp along the slope of a mountainside. All around her were ponies, some of them injured, some of them half drowned, and many of them foals. A whole bunch of little scared foals.

Just like the two little colts that clung to Gloomy’s forelegs and refused to let go of her. They trembled, sometimes cried, and Gloomy had no idea how to comfort them. She had never spent much time around foals, she was still young, hoofloose, and fancy free. She was too much of a free spirit to be responsible enough for looking after foals, or to even try being a foalsitter.

More and more of the Royal Guard arrived, bringing with them the injured and the rescued. The sky was dark now, full of stars that twinkled and a full moon that lit up the camp with a pleasant silvery glow. Guardspony unicorns in golden and silver armor patrolled the camp, starting fires for the ponies to gather around so they could keep warm.

“What’s your names?” Gloomy asked of the two colts in her care. She looked down at them and saw them looking up at her. They were soaked, shivering, and squeezing her front legs almost to the point of cutting off the circulation to her hooves. There should be a fire close by soon enough, it was just a matter of being patient.

“My name is Yam.” The colt who had spoken first was an earth pony and his voice was little more than a frightened whisper. “My brother’s name is Taro. He’s an egghead and he’s shy.”

“Oh.” Gloomy looked down at the little unicorn colt. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” She watched as the little unicorn foal buried his face against her foreleg and then somehow, he squeezed a little tighter.

“You’re an amazing flyer,” Yam said to Gloomy as he continued looking up. The little foal was having some trouble speaking as he was so cold that his teeth were almost chattering.

“Naw, I’m an average flier… Rainbow Dash… now she’s an amazing flier. She’s my boss… great pony. You’ll never meet a better friend. She’s the Element of Loyalty and she can make rainbooms.” Gloomy spread her wings and gave them a flap, trying to shed excess water. She was still soaked, but her wings were warm. She gave another flap, then another, whipping out the water, and then tried wrapping as much of her wings around the two colts as possible. It left her feeling a whole lot colder, but the two colts snuggled closer as they tried to get warm. Gloomy said nothing about her talent to make it rain on ponies.

A fire was being lit nearby. A unicorn dumped down a load of wood in a pile and his horn glowed with a fierce light. Gloomy had to struggle to walk to the fireside with two foals clinging to her forelegs. She tried not to step on them or bring them harm. Others were also gathering around the fire, eager for warmth. Gloomy realised that other than the guards, she was the only pegasus present.

Almost dozing, Gloomy was somehow still sitting up. The fire, along with the two colts clinging to her had left her feeling too warm. She was a pegasus with a fair bit of natural insulation. She yawned. All around her, she heard cries, moans, and the sounds of kindness. Ponies were trying to help others. There were a lot of foals… but not a lot of parents.

A log in the fire popped, causing Taro to startle. The colt let out a startled cry and then began to whimper. His brother, Yam, tried to comfort him, but Taro wanted his mother. Gloomy didn’t know what to say. In her drowsy state, she wanted to tell Taro that his mother would be fine, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it.

Hearing shouting, Gloomy opened her eyes and her ears perked. The booming voice of a guard could be heard over the sounds of misery. Gloomy tilted her head, trying to make out what the guard was saying.

“Yam! Looking for a Yam! And a Taro! Has anypony seen these two colts!”

Gloomy’s heart lept up into her throat. “Over here!” She coughed to clear her throat, and then let out a good yell. “Over here!”

The guard approached with two ponies on his heels, an earth pony mare and a unicorn stallion. The two ponies broke away from the guard and rushed towards Gloomy; the pegasus, always the hopeful, optimistic sort, had trouble believing what she was seeing. She felt the two colts let go of her legs and they went streaking off to their parents.

Smiling, Gloomy felt warm, and it wasn’t because of the fire. She watched the tearful reunion. She looked at the guard and saw the relieved look upon his face. The guard, a pegasus stallion, approached Gloomy and bowed his head.

“We pulled them out of the water. They were floating on a busted up section of roof. The mare said a really nice pegasus came down out of the storm and saved her foals. You did a good thing and on behalf of the guard, I give you my sincere and heartfelt thanks.” The guard whipped out a wing and saluted.

Not knowing what else to do, Gloomy stood up, extended her wing, and returned the gesture, not even knowing if she did it right. She smiled and then turned to look at the happy family. She saw the mare approaching her and she could see tears glistening in the firelight.

“I must be going.” The pegasus guard turned tail and trotted off.

“You saved my foals,” the earth pony mare said in a soft voice. “May the Hearthfire bless and keep you.”

The fires of friendship. Gloomy thought back to what little she knew about the unification of the tribes and the mystical fire that had been summoned that had held back the windigoes. “Aw, it was nothing.” Gloomy waved her hoof. “I’m really glad to see that you’re okay. Your foals are really well behaved.”

“My name is Ginger Root,” the mare said. “My husband’s name is Harvest Moon. We are forever in your debt… if you hadn’t come along when you did… I don’t know what might have happened.” The mare squeezed her colts and her husband squeezed her.

“Come and sit by the fire.” Gloomy made a gesture. “There’s enough room. I don’t think these other ponies will mind.” Gloomy offered up her most inviting smile and gestured again with her wing. Gloomy’s heart warmed; she had made new friends.

Something tapped Gloomy. She awoke with a snort. She was wrapped in her woollen blanket by the fire. The camp around her was filled with quiet sounds of desperation. She lifted her head and looked up. A unicorn guard was looking down at her.

“What?” Gloomy asked in a sleepy voice.

“Sorry to bother you and to disturb your sleep, but you are wanted,” the unicorn replied. “If you could, please, follow me. Thank you.”

Grumbling, Gloomy rose up out of her warm but somewhat damp bed. She looked at her gear, her saddlebags, her blanket, and her helmet. She decided to leave it here. Nopony would take it. She stretched and looked at the unicorn guard.

She followed him, stepping over the many sleeping bodies around the fire. Ginger, her husband, Harvest Moon, and their two foals were all sleeping in a pile together. Seeing them together made Gloomy ache inside, but she couldn’t find the reason.

Walking a short distance, Gloomy stopped when the unicorn did. The guard gestured towards a large, powerful, armored figure. He then bowed and hurried off, leaving Gloomy alone with the armored stranger.

The pony turned around and as he did so, Gloomy realised she wasn’t looking at a normal pegasus. She sucked in a deep breath. He had dragon wings, scaly spots on his hide, slitted eyes, he was one of those strange, weird pegasi. Gloomy reminded herself to smile and be polite.

“My name is Warden Wormwood. I had reports of a pegasus mare dressed up as a Trottingham bobby that swooped down out of the storm and rescued a few foals. If you will forgive me for waking you from your sleep, I had to confirm this for myself.” The strange pegasus blinked and his slitted amber eyes had a strange glow in the moonlight.

“I left my helmet with my gear… oh… oh dear… you… your… um… neck…” Gloomy stammered. She lifted her hoof and pointed, not believing what she was seeing.

“Is something wrong?” Wormwood asked. Smoke curled up from his nostrils. Not his breath making steam in the cold air, but smoke.

“Um, you have… something…” Gloomy pointed at her own neck. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and shook her head. “Can’t you feel that?”

Wormwood reached up with his hoof and felt around his neck. His armored hoof soon found the source of Gloomy’s distress. A tree branch was sticking out of his neck. It had pierced his armor.

Opening her eyes, but still cringing and squinting, Gloomy looked at Wormwood. “How is that even possible?”

“In a tornado, strange things happen.” Wormwood ignored the tree branch that had impaled his armor and had sank into his neck. “You must excuse me, but if I were to pull it out now, I would start bleeding everywhere. That would be rude and the Night Lady would never forgive me for being rude.”

“Oh… I see… I understand.” Gloomy focused on the stallion’s face and tried to ignore the foot long chunk of wood that had been skewered through his neck. How could anypony just ignore something like that?

“I was tasked by Princess Luna herself to come and thank you. Word of your good deed reached her ears. She was impressed. Courage like yours is rare and exceptional.” Wormwood grinned, revealing impressive fangs and jagged teeth that glowed with faint light.

“Oh, I was so scared that I almost widdled myself!” Gloomy chuckled and shook her head. “I thought to myself that one pegasus was better than no pegasus… I wasn’t sure what one pegasus could do, but I had to try.”

“Only the insane or the very brave would willingly fly into a storm like that one. I refuse to believe that you are insane, so the only thing that is left is bravery.” Wormwood cleared his throat. “You have both bravery and beauty in spades, my dear lady.”

Blushing, her whole body on fire, her wings tingling, Gloomy’s mouth went dry. She blinked a few times, unable to respond. She had always felt rather plain looking, she wasn’t bright, flashy, or cheerful looking like other pegasi. Nopony had had ever said that she was beautiful before. Her stomach grew wings and began to fly around her insides.

“Have you ever thought about joining the guard? The Night Lady could use one of your courage.” Wormwood’s eyes blinked, but his eyelids didn’t move. Translucent secondary eyelids slid over his strange eyes, keeping them moist.

“I thought all the guards were stallions?” Gloomy shook her head in confusion.

“No, that’s just an illusion. It comes with the armor. It makes them all uniform in colour, size, and gender. It presents them as a single, equal united force.” Wormwood’s short, bobbed tail swished around his hind legs.

“I’m really very flattered, but I don’t know if I am cut out to be in the guard. I’m a big chicken… I could never hurt anypony. Just thinking about violence makes me queasy. And the thought of somepony shouting at me to do more wingups makes me all nervous.”

“That is unfortunate. I still think that you would make for a good guard. Not all of us specialise in combat. But I understand and I respect your feelings.” Wormwood, still ignoring the branch impaling his neck, glanced up at the moon and then back at Gloomy. “I have much to do and the night grows ever shorter. You would no doubt like to get back to your rest.”

Feeling flustered, Gloomy wanted to stay and talk, but she didn’t say so.

Warden Wormwood extended one leathery wing and raised it in salute. His dark grey hide had a silver glow in the moonlight, what little of it there was to see beneath his armor. “Good night, and fare thee well, solar cousin. It is my sincere hope that we meet again.”

Gloomy, unable to speak, nodded. She felt as though she had a fever. She certainly hoped to meet the handsome looking stallion once more. There was something about him. He had called her beautiful. She smiled, giving him her very best smile.

“Continue to be brave… true courage is to continue in spite of all of your fears.” Wormwood let out a chuckle. “Now if you will excuse me, I must go and see about getting this pulled out of my neck.”

All Gloomy could do was let out a fillyish giggle as the stallion turned to go. She waved, her heart fluttering, and she wondered if she would ever see him again. She hoped so, she hoped so.

Author's Note

How many people do I have reading this? Is it worth the effort of a new chapter now and then or is this going to be a dud?

Worth continuing? I hope so. I am in love with this story idea.

Chapter 15

From the journal of Gloomy August—

With the return of my friends came a little peace of mind. I know, I know, it seems like I hardly even knew them, but it is how we met that makes a difference. Princess Cadance says there is some kind of mind-science stuff that I don’t understand. During times of trouble, like having adventures, individual ponies instinctually band together to form emergency herds. It happens in the guard and it happens with ponies who just so happen to bump into one another and then face life and death together. Or just travel on the road in the hostile wilderness. All of the regular rules for relationships get suspended and what Princess Cadance calls emergency imprinting takes place; a special type of herd is formed. I wish I understood it better, but I am not Princess Cadance.

During my time in the Crystal Empire though, I witnessed the dynamic. Princess Cadance, when she treated soldiers that had been injured in a fight, those who had suffered truly gruesome injuries, she kept whole units together so she could study them. Those guards who had their units there with them, their friends, their emergency herds, they recovered faster, healed better, and travelled the road to wellness, as Cadance called it. Those that faced convalescence alone didn’t recover as fast, didn’t heal as well, and as I would find out later in my life, when she did her follow-throughs with me, these guards did not travel the road to wellness. Issues plagued them, both in the body and up in the head stuff.

I suppose I was lucky that friends arrived when they did, because I needed them to recover. Somehow, I had fractured my mind and injured my heart. Did I travel the road to wellness? I’d like to think that I did. But I’m not normal. I’ve seen stuff. Leaving home changed me. Facing death changed me. Learning that one pegasus can make a difference changed me.

Becoming a mother changed me.

It wasn’t so much a pregnancy as it was a transformation and a journey into unknown skies. My mettle was tested, my resolve, my everything. At some point very early on, I started to turn into the pony that my husband, my beloved Wormwood, wanted as his mate. It takes a brave, brave pony to take on a nocturnal pegasus as their mate. Most ponies are terrified of his kind. But I changed. I broke away from whatever normal is and I became something else. Something better. No longer was I a timid little day dweller, but I began to explore the unknown night.

When I look at Wormwood, or Silver Lining, I don’t see creatures that might eat me. I see my husband and I see my daughter. The same goes for Hachikō. Poor fella, he has such a hard time gaining acceptance. I’ve noticed though that he does well with ponies who have walked the roads, ponies who understand threat and danger. Hachikō is a good companion to have on the roads, in the wild, but if you’ve never left home and never had a whiff of danger, then poor Hachikō is probably a big scary dog to you.

But I trusted him with my own life and my daughter’s life when she was at her most fragile.

Mrs. Milkweed was in a fine, spry mood today and it was she who served tea. Gathered around the table, Gloomy had found herself some happiness, with her old friends and her new friend getting along famously. Jasper Picklesworth and Mrs. Milkweed in particular hit it off rather well, with her teasing him for his grumpiness. Gleamgood was in fine, polite form, and he glowed from within from his own happiness. Hachikō was hunched over in a chair far too small for him, at a table far too short, but he made do.

Tea was quickly becoming a way of life for Gloomy, who had never really bothered with a tea ritual before. But life in the Crystal Empire was all about tea and sympathy. It gave ponies a reason to gather, to talk, to pour their hearts out to one another. New friendships were made and some even fell in love. Mrs. Milkweed believed that a daily tea ritual helped to enforce herd bonding and kept ponies on good terms with one another.

“So you’re going to raise a griffon?” Jasper’s question came out of the blue and his tone seemed almost incredulous. It also caused the occupants of the table to go silent and it didn’t take long before the grumpy earth pony cottoned on that something might be amiss. “I’m just shocked that somepony cares enough to do that, that’s all. All this big city bustle. Nopony cares about anypony else anymore. Harrumph.”

Without realising it, Gloomy let out a sigh of relief and reminded herself that just because Jasper was grumpy, one should not assume the worst of him. He had surprised her before as well and beneath his gruff exteriour, he was a good sort… just a little acerbic.

“Even I’ll admit that I’m surprised,” Gleamgood said, his voice soft and lacking his usual enthusiasm. “Griffons were our enemies once. I come from a distant past and I find this future quite confusing at times. It is difficult to be a time traveller.”

“Pshaw!” the old mare huffed, and then Mrs. Milkweed let out a throaty laugh. Lifting a withered, wrinkled leg, she waved at Gleamgood and sank back in her padded, high backed chair. “I forgot that you’re older than I am. How silly I am, feeling self-conscious about my age when there’s a thousand year old pony around. Why, I am practically a yearling.”

“Only by a mere technicality,” Gleamgood replied and then he let out a good natured chuckle.

Just a little confuzzled, Gloomy’s head cocked to one side and she tried to make sense of the exchange. Gleamgood was a thousand years old? He hadn’t mentioned that before and that seemed like the sort of thing that one might mention. Then, after spending a little time in the dungeon of dullardry, the oubliette of oafishness, a flash of tepid, lukewarm intelligence flickered to life between her ears: Gleamgood had been born over a thousand years ago, when the Crystal Empire had vanished.

“Oh…” She breathed her word aloud and was thankful that she did not reveal herself as a featherbrain. Ears down, she offered up a sheepish smile without realising it and got a curious look from Jasper in return. Before she could do anything to give herself away, Gloomy slurped some of her tea. Nopony would suspect anything if she kept her cool.

“So you met Gloomy on the road?” Mrs. Milkweed asked.

“We did,” Gleamgood replied. “My companion Jasper and I were in need of assistance and water. Gloomy gave us both.”

“It is good to see that kindness is still a virtue.” The old mare sighed, settled back into her chair a little more, and then let out a weary gasp that seemed to make her whole withered, wrinkled body shrink. “This wasn’t always the case. In my life, I’ve seen so much… for a time, we grew so cold to one another. We forgot the lessons of the past and we repeated a few mistakes. It took a civil war to remind us how to behave. This might be the ramblings of an old, senile mare, but some good came out of that war. Princess Celestia’s reconstruction efforts returning a lot of kindness and generousity to the land that had been missing. I saw it… I saw it all. Ponies had to remember how to be kind to one another. Of course, when the war happened and the wounds were still fresh, I didn’t think the nation would ever heal.”

“And when King Sombra turned cruel and took over the Empire, I didn’t think that we would ever be freed.” Gleamgood nodded, reached out, and patted the old mare upon her foreleg. “And when he was defeated, ‘twas kindness that restored us and gave us hope.” The crystal pony’s eyes closed for a moment and his breathing became rather shallow. “A miraculous act of kindness draws us into this modern era. Thank goodness for the wise Emperor and the gentle Empress.”

Since nopony was eating them, Gloomy pulled an entire plate of sugar cookies over and then began to methodically destroy them, one by one. She slipped a whole cookie into her mouth, sucked on it for a bit to soften it, and when it crumbled into soggy, crumbly, sugary goodness, only then would she chew up the remains so it could be swallowed. The contents of the plate vanished with an astonishing rapidity.

“And what of you, quiet one?” Mrs. Milkweed asked of Hachikō. “How does kindness fare in your homeland?”

“It is dead,” Hachikō replied, sounding sad and distant. “It was one of the first casualties when the great turtle-dragon, Tōsō, came up out of the sea. Tōsō came ashore one day and asked the first of many questions that tore Inujima apart. ‘Surely,’ he said, ‘the samurai are entitled to a greater share of the farmer’s labours, because without them the farmers would have nothing. So even if the samurai take a great deal, and leave the farmers with very little, very little is still more than the nothing that they would have if there were no samurai. Are the samurai to be insulted and not given their due?’ Almost overnight, the honourable became bandits, cruel and greedy.”

Jasper shook his head, sighed, and rolled his eyes.

“Then Tōsō went to work on the sophists, saying, ‘Surely, knowledge is power. Shouldn’t power rest with those most capable and most responsible? What need does a rice farmer have of knowledge? Does it make the rice taste better? Why give power away? Should it not be given to those who can do the most with it? And whom can do the most with it? Those with coin and resources.’ Even the wisest and most learned were taken in by Tōsō’s words, and so the learned found themselves at odds with all, including the warriors.”

Mrs. Milkweed covered her mouth with her hoof and her eyes seemed… sorrowful.

“So, the sophists quickly found themselves at odds with the samurai, who did not negotiate, nor did they ask. When those of learning refused to share their knowledge, when they did not freely give away their secrets, the fallen bandit samurai slaughtered them… and so began the end of Inujima. Tōsō sowed cruelty, greed, deceit, treachery, misfortune, and strife to our island nation, and by doing so, brought doom to us all.”

“The opposites of the Great Equestrian Virtues.” Mrs. Milkweed underwent a curious transformation and something about her seemed far more schoolmarm than anything else. “Kindness, generousity, honesty, loyalty, and laughter. Oh, and magic, I suppose. I’m not much of a unicorn, because I’ve always put more faith in sharing a meal than I did casting a spell.”

With a guilty glance around the table, Gloomy devoured the last sugar cookie.

Blinking a few times, the old mare sighed, then yawned, and then she allowed her body to ease up against the overstuffed sides of her chair. “Hachikō, I am honoured to have met you. Never forget the history of your kind. Do whatever you must to pass it along. You be a good pup now, and you listen to me.” With that, the old mare went silent, her features darkened, and she lifted up her cup of tea so that she might drink it.

The graceful bow of Hachikō’s head radiated a sense of reverence, of respect, and he too, lifted up his teacup. He raised it in respect, held it to his nose, sniffed it, and then had himself a slurp. Meanwhile, Gloomy began to eyeball the cucumber and butter sandwiches cut into neat little triangles.

Mrs. Milkweed put down her now empty teacup, smiled, and her right foreleg came to rest upon the well-cushioned arm of her chair. Jasper, his eyebrow arched, pushed the plate of cucumber and butter sandwiches closer to Gloomy, while Gleamgood seemed to study Hachikō’s every movement. After a few sniffs, Gloomy gave into temptation and began to ravage the piled plate of sandwiches.

Jasper let out a cough, reached up, scratched his neck just below his jaw, and then looked down into his teacup, which sat on the table just before him. “This turtle-dragon, this Tōsō, he sounds a lot like Discord. I’ve heard it said that Discord has turned over a new leaf, but I don’t believe a word of it. Starting trouble for the sake of trouble. We earth ponies don’t abide no troublemakers. You keep your nose down near the ground and you work. If everypony did what they were meant to do, there’d be no trouble.”

“Not all of us have our destinies so clearly defined,” Hachikō said in response. “Some of us spend our lives searching for purpose, such as the monks that once lived in my homeland. Sadly, they too were targeted by Tōsō, and were undone.”

“Can’t searching for your purpose be your purpose?” Jasper’s face aged a great deal in just a few seconds when hundreds of fine, tiny wrinkles spread from his furrowed brows downward. “If you are off somewhere, contemplating your navel, you’re not in much of a position to start trouble. At least you are out of the way so others can get work done.”

“Is work all there is?” Hachikō asked.

“Yes.” Jasper let out a series of low grunts, a wicker, and then a whinny.

“What of leisure?” The diamond dog leaned forwards, his jowls drawn tight in concentration.

“That’s fun work.” Jasper, the ever-dour earth pony, squinted and stared back at the diamond dog across the table.

“What of poetry?”

“What of it?” the earth pony retorted in quick response. “Is it not some means of work to push a pen? To concentrate? To be creative? Is that not effort? Any idiot can make a poem, and the world is full of bad poets who poison the mind and the eyes of those who read their drivel. But good poetry… that’s effort expressed in ink. It’s like sculpting with a chisel. It all comes down to hard work. You have to carve in the fine details.”

Hachikō shrugged. “I suppose you are correct.”

At this, Jasper’s wrinkles vanished, most of them, and another faint whinny could be heard from deep within his throat. His ears rose for a moment, pivoted forwards, and then splayed until they pointed sideways and flat with his head. Seemingly at a loss for words, he lowered his head and began lapping up his tea.

“My dear friend, you are not used to being told that you are right.” Gleamgood smiled and his teeth had a curious glow about them. “You are shockingly philosophical for a pickle salespony.”

“And you are excruciatingly erudite for a pony whose vernacular is rooted one-thousand years in the past,” Jasper remarked mere seconds after Gleamgood’s words had been spoken, as tea dribbled from his chin.

Gesturing with his paw, Hachikō made a gentle interruption: “The old mare has gone to sleep. Keep your voices down.”

Sure enough, Mrs. Milkweed’s head now rested in the cushioned corner of the high backed chair A faint smile could be seen upon her lips, as well as a dribble of tea. Both ears drooped and Gloomy could not help but notice how peaceful the centenarian schoolmarm looked. Cramming in a whole cucumber and butter sandwich, the ravenous pegasus wondered what all this food would do to her once-trim figure.

Jasper returned to lapping up his now cooled tea and Gleamgood turned to look at Gloomy, who was face-down in a plate of sandwiches, which seemed to be disappearing at an alarming rate. One sandwich was extra-buttery and Gloomy had to lick her lips to clear up the mess. Gleamgood, a real gentlepony, pushed a small plate covered in an assortment of cheese cubes in Gloomy’s direction with his hoof.

“You’re eating for two,” the crystal pony said whilst his eyes darted towards Gloomy’s egg. “When the… whatever a baby griffon is called is hungry and won’t sleep, you’ll be thankful for being plump. Time to look after yourself will be in short supply, soon enough.”

“At least there are no toothpicks in the cheese.” Jasper let out a low wickering grumble and rolled his eyes. “I’m not a unicorn. Pulling out toothpicks is a pain. They’re a real hazard for us earth ponies and pegasus ponies. Just cut the cheese and be done with it. No toothpicks.”

Extending his paw, Hachikō made a sweeping gesture. “Wise dog say, effort is better spent cutting cake than cheese. Dog who cuts cake has many friends… dog who cuts cheese howls alone.”

“Why… I say…” Gleamgood sat up straight, blinked a few times, and then repeated himself. “Why… I do say.”

“You know,” Jasper said to the diamond dog across the table, “I had no idea that you had a sense of humour.”

“My master was wise.” Hachikō seemed pained and for a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut. Calm returned to his face, but the suggestion of pain remained. “It is only when a mosquito lands upon your stone sack that you will realise, young pup, that there is always a way to solve your problems without violence. Be gentle in all that you do.” When he opened his eyes once more, great pain could be seen within their depths.

“Did something happen to your master?” Jasper’s ears arose and resting his forelegs upon the edge of the table, he leaned forwards.

“He was slain for banditry.” Hachikō’s reply held no semblance of emotion. “After killing farmers, he ceased to be my master and became a bandit. I would like to think that, in those final moments, after we had crossed blades, when I had impaled him, he became my master once more and was proud of me. It is foolishness on my part.”

“Uh, I do not mean to interrupt,” Gleamgood said, interrupting. “Mrs. Milkweed isn’t sleeping.”

“She isn’t?” Jasper’s head swiveled around and his eyes widened.

Gloomy lifted her head from her pile of sandwiches to have a look.

The old mare sure looked like she was sleeping. She was peaceful, still, and smiling. But something wasn’t right and even Gloomy noticed when she paid attention: Mrs. Milkweed’s barrel neither rose nor fell. Her nostrils did not flare with each inhale, because there were none. A great numbness overtook Gloomy when she realised the truth—a numbness that she found peculiar because she expected sadness.

But sadness was nowhere to be found.

“So it goes.” Reaching up, Jasper smoothed his mane back from his face with his foreleg and he gave his head a shake. “She lived long enough to become a stranger to her family and she died here, alone, with only us as her final company. I hope my mood wasn’t too awful.”

“A stranger to her family?” At this, Gleamgood seemed confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve seen it before.” Jasper sighed once and then turned to face his friend. “You live as long as she does, you outlive some of your own foals, and maybe even some of your grandfoals, and the connection weakens. At some point, you stop being a mother, because all of your foals are gone. Then, over time, the connections continue to break down. You stop being a mother or a grandmother, and instead, you become that nice old lady that everyone is told to respect, but the direct connections are all gone. You’re a burden that everypony tolerates.”

Gleamgood became distressed and rubbed his fetlocks together. “But how can that happen? I don’t even understand how a pony can live this long. How can these bonds be broken?”

In response, Jasper shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s the way it is.”

Uncertain of what to think, Gloomy stared down motherhood in a whole new way while she stared at the unmoving body of Mrs. Milkweed. Her appetite now lost, she pushed away the plates of food in front of her, which clinked on contact with one another. When her mane tumbled down into her eyes, she did nothing to push it away, but continued to stare through it.

“Her final words were to me.” Hachikō bowed his head and added, “I am honoured.”

“One of us should go find somepony… some member of the palace staff, perhaps.” Gleamgood reached out and placed his hoof upon the old mare’s foreleg. “I hope we were pleasant company. Had we known this would be your last tea, we might’ve done more to make it special.”

“She’s gone…”

“Yes, Gloomy. I’m sorry.” Gleamgood’s ears drooped in an apologetic way.

“I’ve never really made friends with an elderly pony before and I don’t know how to feel.”

Gleamgood coughed. “I thought myself elderly… I did… I had lived for a long time… a little over two decades. I lived and lost… like so many, I’ve lost so much. But then we came back and the Emperor and the Empress healed us and gave us medicine and cured us of our ailments… it was miraculous. I was young again. My life feels so short compared to hers.”

Pushing himself away from the table, Gleamgood wiped his eyes with his foreleg, stood up, and gave himself a shake. “I shall go and find somepony at once. Please, excuse me.”

Confused, Gloomy licked her lips, shook her head, and tried to figure out what to feel.

Author's Note

As one life ends, another begins. So it goes.