Call of the Siren

Crickets hum as the sun sets over the forest, casting long crooked shadows. The smell of burnt wood is thick in the air, but it’s already begun to fade.

I don’t know where I’m going, but it hardly matters. I can’t show my face anywhere near Ponyville, or any city for that matter. For all I know they still might be tracking me with some sort of magic, and it might not even matter that I escaped.

I hope Zecora’s alright.

I hesitate at the creaking sound of wagon wheels, briefly wondering whether to ditch the path. But I hesitate too long, and a crooked old stallion near as big as Big Macintosh comes around the corner, dragging a covered cart painted with fading colors.

“You, boy,” the gruff unicorn says, wiping sweat from his face. “Is it much farther to the next town?”

“Half a day’s walk, moving quickly,” I say quickly, eager to get out of the conversation as soon as I can.

He nods, groaning slightly. “Suppose this is good a place as any to rest my bones, then. Boy, can you help this old stallion get down his blankets?”

“You really shouldn’t sleep here,” I say hesitantly approaching the wagon. “This is timberwolf territory, and it’s mating season.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout me boy, I know a thing or two ‘bout monsters!” the stallion said with a wheezy chuckle, stretching his crooked limbs as he sat back against a tree, apparently waiting for me to get to work. After a pause, I dig around in the back of his cluttered wagon, digging out a tattered quilt, barely holding together at the seams.

He nods his thanks as I pass it to him, but as I turn to leave, he cuts in again. “Aren’t you gonna build a fire? It get’s mighty cold at night without a fire,” he points out, getting comfortable. “Don’t think these old bones would last the night without one!”

Biting back a sigh, I gather some ignored sticks. It doesn’t take long to build a quick fire, something I’d gotten used to after spending a few cold nights at the side of roads. Still, I hate staying still, hate that any moment, the royal guards could be getting closer.

Striking the flint and steel one more time, I return them to my saddlebags, bending to blow the embers, trying to coax them to live. Finally, a small fire catches on the dry kindling.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I straighten, forcing a smile for the old stallion. “I really should be on my way, sir,” I say, chewing my lip as I glance up and down the path.

“Nonsense!” cries the old stallion, letting out another wheezing chuckle. “You’ve got me all bedded down for the night, so it’s only fair I repay you! How about a horn brace?”

I pause, staring at him for a moment. “I’m not a unicorn, sir,” I point out, wondering if I should maybe just ignore him and leave.

He pauses, the lets out a sudden laugh, clucking to himself. “Right you aren’t! My old eyes are going, just thought I saw a something about you-pegasus oil won’t do you much good either, would it, and you don’t seem much like the voodoo and hoodooing type, so that’s out; genies aren’t in season and wishing fish aren’t ripe, did I sell that old spinning wheel yet?” he mused aloud.

Hesitating, I clear my throat, blinking through the confusion. “Excuse me, sir? But who exactly are you?”

“Ah!” he said brightly, chuckling. “Where are my manners!? The name’s Vibrant Grimm, m’boy, of the Brothers Grimm! Peddlers of stories and harbingers of magic, travelers of the worlds!”

“Brothers? Then where’s the other one?” I ask, uncertainly sitting down across the fire from the strange stallion.

He pauses, his bright demeanor wavering for the first time. “Oh, I’m sure Stygian’s around here somewhere. Ghosts are never far off.”

“Ghosts?”

“But enough about us! You and your patience deserve a reward, a magic to make all your dreams come true! I don’t suppose you’d care for glass slippers?” guwaffed Vibrant, snorting at his own joke.

“Wait-like Cindershoes? In that fairytale?” I cut in, trying to get a word in edgewise. “But-”

“Nothing, nothing, nothing! What say you, Stygian? What’s the boy’s reward?” shouted the unicorn, raising his head. There was a pause, only broken by a chill wind that rustled the trees overhead, and blew shadows across the now rising moon.

Despite the silence, Vibrant lit up. “Of course! I should have thought of it myself! Brilliant Stygian, just brilliant!” He turned back to me, beaming with a friendly gap-toothed grin. “You’ve had a long hard day on the run my boy, so how about we tell you a story to lighten the mood?”

“I have no clue what’s going on,” I moan, grimacing. This stallion’s insane, and I’m wasting my time.

Vibrant pauses, chuckling. “Ah, yes, I do tend to get ahead of myself, don’t I? Me and my brother are archeologists, historians, and explorers, all rolled up into one. We studied magic, collected strange artifacts and traveled into the lands of Equestria and beyond. But most of all, we collect stories. Ever since Stygian died, his ghost’s been guiding me about, leading me to where stories need to be shared or found. It’s quite the advantage, having someone with a peek into the weavings of time on your side, even if a bit lonely-but never mind that!” he said, breaking back into a smile. “Come on boy, Stygian led me down this road for a reason, and I’d wager he wants me to tell you a story!”

“Really?” I say, curiosity and hesitance fighting. I shouldn’t stop here, not while there still could be guards looking for me. But idea that this meeting wasn’t a coincidence, that a ghost guided this strange stallion here-it sounds impossible, amazing, like some sort of story. And I could use a quick escape from reality. Better than thinking about everything that happened.

“Absolutely!” Vibrant said with a fierce nod. “I was on my way to Ponyville, actually, to collect stories about the friends and ascension of Princess Twilight, but this definitely wasn’t the shortest route. Stygian! What story do you want me to tell!?” he asked the emptiness. There was a pause, then another cold wind. Vibrant laughed at himself, offering me a smile. “Ah, there’s the catch. I never asked your name, did I? Go on then, tell Stygian!”

This stallion could just be some con pony, or insane, or any number of other reasons. But after everything, I want something I can believe in. I need something I can believe in.

“Brio,” I say aloud, biting my lip. “My name is Brio Vespers.”

Vibrant raises a curious eyebrow, though he doesn’t seem shocked or scared like I would have expected. “You don’t look much like a monstrous emotion sucking monster,” he said brightly. “But then, you can’t always believe political PR, can you? Stygian?”

A bottle fell from the back of the wagon, rolling to a stop near Vibrant’s hooves. He uncorks it, dumping out the paper inside and unrolling it. “This? Haven’t seen this old thing in years-I was starting to think it wasn’t for anyone,” said Vibrant in surprise. He passed it to me, and I smooth it out. Ancient symbols were painted on, and it took me a moment to recognize it.

“It’s a map,” I say in surprise, lifting my head.

Vibrant nods, getting a look in his eyes as if he were waxing nostalgic. “Yes indeed it it. Back when Stygian was alive, we discovered that there nearly falling apart in some pony’s attic. Styg insisted we buy it off them, but I was sure it was fake. But Stygian always knew what he was doing better than his goof of a big brother. It was no ordinary map. That map nearly let us unlock all the secrets of the City of the Sirens. Our story starts many millennia ago, way back when that Starswirl bloke was still in diapers. It starts with the most prosperous and beautiful city in all the world...”