Chapters Chapter I: Crossing Paths
Fate is a strange thing. It draws together, and splits apart. Only a fool will attempt to change fate, as fate sees all past, present, and future.
Though the waving branches of the drooping willows, shading the rocky gravel path out of a small weatherboard house, set back from the road, a tan coloured pegasus took flight, a tightly rolled piece of yellowed parchment tucked underneath her wing. Shew flew over the bustling streets of the great city of Canterlot, heading straight for the grand Canterlot train station, with its marble pillars and gilded domes that stood proudly into the sky.
She took out a ticket from the saddlebags slung over her back, and headed for the entrance, where two opened wrought iron gates stood. She passed into the hub of the station, a bustling space of chaos where different everypony was travelling different directions for one reason or another. She headed for platform three, which was at the close end of the station, which unfortunately was also the busiest part.
Large crates of cargo were being unloaded from freight trains and swarms of townsfolk flooded out of the doors of arriving passenger trains, but platform three itself was barren. It was understandable, as it held the train that headed south-east to Ormont, a tiny county within Equestria that was scarcely visited as it was almost completely populated by zebras and other weird creatures, unheard of in the more civilised parts.
She found herself looking at a small steam engine of two passenger cars and one galley and cargo hold, where luggage and other items like mail and parcels were deposited. The conductor inspected her ticket, and gave a nod of approval. She headed aboard a passenger car, which held three compartments, which were rather spacious for trains, that included a bed, table, chair and some small ornaments on the window sill.
She threw her saddlebags onto the bed, threw her pith helmet onto the table, and sat herself down, staring out of the window onto the empty platform. The time between adventures were few and precious. It was always a time to reminisce about the past and future, regrets and hopes, and particularly one thing.
“I hope old Kasha does not find me,” she said to herself ambiguously, “there has been enough trouble in the past few months.”
As she always did, she took out a pen and a notepad from her saddlebags, and wrote down anything of interest that came into her mind. Through the pages were fears, sorrows, joys and regrets. It was those imperfections that made her. Forged her. Shaped her into the pony she would become.
The train slid forwards and accelerated steadily, gliding on the tracks. The sun sank slowly as the train ran away from it, into the dark horizon of the east. The Unicorn Range soon cast long shadows onto the ground, its jagged peaks visible in the bright backdrop of the orange horizon of sunset. Where the light was allowed through, it touched the fields of long green grasses, and cultivated farmlands of golden grain, waving around in the tranquil wind.
The shadows grey longer, and soon the sprawling fields were completely dark, the first signs of night approaching. Luna’s silvery moon soon rose from the eastern horizon, the twinkling stars along with it in the dark night sky, filling the empty voids of space. The small amount of light cast onto the lands was enough to make the grasses in the fields to cast dancing shadows and fields of grain to shine silver in the moonlight. Night was truly a sight to behold.
She spent the night bathed in the moonlight restlessly as nightmares came to visit periodically. Sometimes the vision seemed so real, and terrifying, causing her to wake up drenched in cold sweat. The night went by slowly as the train rocked backwards and forwards on the tracks. Sometimes she wonders, ‘Is it the best idea to constantly be on the road, and leave my future to fate?’ The answer never came, and as sure as day won’t come easily.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the train flew through the barren plains in an easterly direction, a grizzled brown stallion laden with heavy saddlebags and a dusty coat trotted towards the city of Ormont, which was still many days away on hoof. The sun was setting and the day was beginning to draw to a close. Dead trees were littered scarcely around the barren plains, casting long shadows onto the rough uneven ground, shadows which he used to guide himself to the shelter of a wispy tree, whose bark was peeling off in the heat of the continuous radiance of sun during the warm days behind them now.
As the sun sank further behind the horizon, the air grew colder, a sure sign of the coming winter in the southlands. Tearing down branches and bark, he made a stack of firewood ready to be lit. Producing a flint and steel from his saddlebags, he struck them together, causing sparks to fall onto the dead pile of tree, where a small fire arose. Soon, the fire was cackling merrily as he sat down, back on the trunk of the tree and reminisced about the days that he has been through.
Taking out his map as he did every night, he looked at the progress he had made. Some damned pony came up to the cartographer’s office and asked for a new map of the train route to Ormont so he could publish his plans to reconstruct the rail to Parliament and somehow get a government grant and permission to complete his plan. The rail hasn’t changed for a century from when it was built, so why commission a new map for it? Looks like the average IQ of citizens is dropping again.
Small thuds in the dirt behind him disrupted him from his train of thought. Slowly taking out his revolver without a sound, he stood. Slowly, he rounded the trunk of the tree. “What do you want?” he demanded as he stared into the face of a very familiar zebra. One who had been shadowing him for days on end without a trace. His just felt like he was being shadowed and this confirmed his fears.
“Oh, still so naïve, I see, young Jackson,” he said with an evil smirk. “I just wanted to make sure that you,” he took out a pistol of his own, “were dead.”
Jackson reacted quickly, swerving so he could be covered by the trunk of the tree, then swung around and blasted a round with a loud crack from his revolver straight into the face of the zebra, whose gun fell from his mouth and slumped onto the ground in a heap, blood flowing freely from the fatal wound to his brain. He collected his opponent’s gun, took the remaining ammunition from it, and then he threw it bitterly onto the ground next to the corpse of the zebra.
“Go burn in hell, but not before you have told Kasha that he will never best me, no matter how hard he tries,” he spat at the corpse.
Jackson then sat against the tree again, after brushing the corpse away. He looked into the fire, as it wavered in the slight breeze. It radiated a pleasant warmth that mitigated the cold night air in the plains that were commonplace. His eyes wandered into the sky, watching the stars shimmer brightly, and the moon cast her silver light onto the earth. Staring into the dark abyss that is the universe above, he drifted off into sleep.
Jackson woke abruptly in the morning with Celestia’s sun shining brightly on the horizon. He packed his bags quickly, kicking out the pile of ash that was the once radiant fire, then set out on the same south easterly direction. With the sun behind his back, he could see the horizon much more clearly than he could in the afternoons. Scanning the horizon constantly, and checking his compass to correct his direction, Jackson kept moving at a steady rate.
After trotting for two hours on end, he saw the form of an abandoned homestead in the distance. Getting closer, he could see that it was clearly run down. The windows were blocked by wooden planks nailed to the window frame and the door was also bolted down. This was a reminder that the southlands near Ormont was bandit country. Many ponies throughout these parts have been subject to robbery of large sums of money or even murder by these outlaws who kept their profile low so the police force could not catch them.
The furnishing on the homestead looked quite fine, and the construction seemed excellent. From the architecture, Jackson could tell this building was there before the bandits infested the region. Such a shame that the building was abandoned and now fallen into disuse. He felt for his revolver, which was tucked in its holster, for reassurance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The train finally left the southlands, and now was heading straight into a verdant rainforest, where the canopies were green and alive, and the undergrowth snaked across the ground, absorbing the considerable amounts of moisture in the earth that was never evaporated. Vines crawled up the thick trunks of the tall trees that crowded the jungle of different plants. The trees soon grew more sparsely as the train slowed and pulled into a station a short while later.
The pegasus packed her saddlebags then exited the train into the city of tall spires, reaching into the clouds. The city loomed over her as she trotted closer to the main streets which were packed with black and white stripes. It was dizzying to stare at the streets with all the zebras walking around in them. She walked through the outskirts of the city, avoiding large crowds of zebras.
She soon turned into a little motel that she knew from her other travels that saw her travel to Ormont. As she entered, the zebra at the front desk looked up and greeted her warmly, “Daring! It’s been forever since you visited.”
“Yeah, it’s about time I did too,” Daring agreed as she collected a room key from him. “Well, I’ll see you around.”
“Bye.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jackson trotted across the southland still. The furious sun cast its relentless rays upon him as he struggled to keep a good pace. Taking out his last bottle of water, he drank half of it with a gulp. He massively underestimated the amount of water he needed on the expedition. His tongue still felt parched after downing the rest of the water as he kept on. Dehydration started to grasp at Jackson’s heels, pulling him from his target. Giving a very conservative estimate, it would still be at least two days walk to Ormont.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wouldn’t make it. Only if a miracle occurred. Dusk arrived slowly as the sun sank from its highest point in the sky. The warmer winds of day now were replaced by the cooler gusts of night air. The cool wind felt refreshing on his fur, especially after a long exhausting day. Jackson was not ready to die. He made the decision to trek as far as he could to reach within five miles of the border so that the Equestrian border might find him.
Three hours later, he knew that he could not make it. He sat down feeling exhausted almost to the limit of his body. He thought about his home back in Canterlot. What would his friends think? What a depressing place to die. The screeches of vultures could be heard, as he neared passing out. He soon lay motionless on the ground. “This is our last, my world, we barely knew ye…”
Life is a fragile thing. When brought back for a second chance, cherish it, for life does not last forever. Walk a path never taken, and change the world.
Daring was staring at the ceiling, sprawled on the bed in her room staring out of the window longingly. She glanced quickly at the clock that was ticking away happily on the bed stand, something little that could drive anyone up the wall. Even the princesses were probably not immune to the gentle continuous ticking of a clock. Daring rose from her bed and took her key, and locked her room door. Walking out into the open, she spread her wings and took flight. She banked around in a wide, sweeping arc around the tall spires that made Ormont’s skyline and started to follow the train tracks into the dense rainforest which surrounded the city.
After half an hour of flight in a north-westerly direction and approaching the border between the city state of Ormont and Equestria, she decided to go no further than the grassy plains separating the rainforest and the sandy terrain the covered the Equestrian side of the border. As she was about to turn back, she spotted a brown speck on the ground, motionless. It was too large to be a sign of some sort, and too small to be a predator of the rainforest, as the herbivores resided to the canopies.
As she descended over the span of two hundred yards, she could see that the speck was a pony laying on the dusty ground, motionless. She landed herself down gently in the sands and walked over to the earth pony. She knelt down and look over him. He seemed to be breathing shallowly. She then checked the pulse of the pony by touching the artery that runs by the side of his neck. As she did, he opened his eyes in a daze and looked around frantically.
“What do you want?” he croaked though his parched throat, “Finally found me weak and here to kill me? I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always a coward anyways.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back a little, resigning himself to death.
Deciding that returning to town and fetching help was the best course of action, she took off again. If he were a unicorn or pegasus, she would’ve been able to carry him back, but being an earth pony, he was just too heavy for her to perform such an action. Retracing her path back into the city by following the train tracks, she quickly arrived back in Ormont.
Daring set herself down in front of the hospital in the centre of the bustling city and walked into the reception briskly, which was filled with other zebras waiting patiently in line to make inquiries or the like. She lined up in the winding queue and waited for bureaucracy to take its time. Striding up to the zebra sitting at the desk finally after what seemed like an agonising hour, she said, “There’s a pony down in the desert. He’s lost consciousness and I think he needs help. Fast.”
The receptionist looked up at her sympathetically. “It’s common for ponies to be stranded in the desert around these parts, due to lack of planning or preparation. Very well, a chariot will be dispatched immediately. I’m sure you took note of where he is situated.”
“Yes, I have,” Daring replied.
“Ok. Now, we’ll just have you fill out this form, and then meet the crew up at the dispatch section of the hangar at the fifth floor. It doesn’t take long.”
After filling in the long pages of paperwork, Daring took the elevator to the fifth floor where a large corridor led her to as set of heavy iron doors that were marked with the word in bold white letters, ‘Hangar’. Pushing the door open, a large concrete room came into view with many chariots being moved around and patients being offloaded and brought into the hospital. The front side of the hangar was completely exposed to the open air, where chariots came in and out in an orderly fashion being directed by a set of automated flashing lights at the front of the hangar.
Daring walked deeper into the hangar, where she saw a small desk with messages being transported to and from the desk. As she approached, she saw a unicorn working tirelessly at the stack of papers on the desk, receiving them, filling them out and sending them back out through a small brass tube that dropped down through the floor from the desk probably into all the other sectors of the hospital.
“Uh, hello?” Daring asked, unsure is she found the right pony to ask.
“Ah, you must be the pony requesting a chariot be brought to the border?” the unicorn asked as she pulled out a wad of papers, “Is that right?”
“Yes, it is,” Daring confirmed, and the unicorn signed the document with a quill swiftly.
“Go to sector five of the hangar to your right there,” the unicorn pointed, “A crew will be ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Daring said as she left for where she was told. On the walls around the hangar were yellow lines with numbers painted in the same colour, representing sectors, landing zones and the like. Daring spotted the crew of paramedics bustling around their chariot carrying tools, while sparks flew and the sound of bolts being hammered in surrounded them. As she approached, a zebra from the crew spotted her.
“Hello there!” he greeted, “You must be Daring Do. There is a stallion stranded out in the desert sands that you want picked up, am I right?”
“Yes,” Daring answered, “When can we depart?”
“Whenever you give the word,” he replied.
The chariot rolled slowly through the crowds to one of the short runways that faced the open air. A sprawling view of the suburbia of Ormont was visible through the giant arch that led into the hangar. Daring held onto the frame of the chariot firmly as it sped up quickly, then took to the foggy dusk skies of orange and a set sun. Above the rainforest, they flew as fast as a frigate with its sails billowing fully in the wind.
They soon slowed as they approached the desert, still following the train line surely. Daring pointed the rough whereabouts the downed pony was, and they flew slowly in that direction. Soon, a familiar small speck could be seen on the ground, and the chariot was set to the ground next to him. A stretcher was carried off by the paramedics and they rolled the unconscious brown earth pony atop, then strapped him into the chariot along with all the other medical equipment that was now quickly connected to him.
With everything secure, the chariot raced along again, kicking up dust in a long trail behind them, then lifted off into the now evening sky with the heavens a rich dark blue. Following the train tracks back into town, then landing again in the hangar of the hospital, Jackson was offloaded and taken through the more obscure doors on the other side of the hangar to be treated. Daring was forced to wait in the reception, on the uncomfortable hard chairs for the all clear so that she could see the pony she rescued from the desert.
Staring periodically at the clock on the wall above the reception desk, Daring stood up on her hooves eventually and started pacing the ample amount of free space available the reception that was not filled with rows of chairs. All that was in her mind right then was to get this mess sorted and over with.
After an hour, signified by the chime of the clock tower in the centre of the town, a doctor walked into the reception with a notepad in a satchel and a pen over his ear. After glancing around the reception, he set his eyes on Daring and proceeded to approach her. “Hello Daring Do, the earth pony you retrieved with the paramedic crew is in a stable condition now. If you want to visit him now, I’ll lead you to his ward. He is currently awake, but slightly confused, but I’ll take that as a good sign.”
“Sure,” replied Daring, giving a sigh of relief, “Lead the way.”
The doctor led Daring through the hospital back to the elevator she was familiar with, then proceeded to push the four button on the panel. As usual, the elevator accelerated upwards, creating a false sense of extra gravity, then quickly decelerated, causing you to feel like you were weightless for a second. Through the elevator doors was a hallway and a pair of glass doors into the B Ward on level five. The naming scheme was consecutive, so the A Ward was to the left of the elevator and the C Ward was to the right, down the hallway.
Daring followed the doctor down the hallway into the D Ward, where he opened the glass doors into a smaller hallway this time with doors leading off into hospital rooms on both sides. She was led into a small hospital room, which housed one bed, a sink in the corner, a table laden with hospital equipment and a large window to the east side to catch the morning rays. On the bed, under a blanket, was the brown pony that she had pulled from the desert who was on the brink of death. There was a plush armchair in the corner of the room, where Daring took a seat, and waited for him to wake.
It was well into the night by then. The doctor left and closed the door gently behind him, only leaving a small amount of light from the corridor outside reach into the room through the small window in the top centre of the door. In the shroud of darkness, Daring looked over the city. It was bustling, even at night with vibrant lights shining from the streets, and crowds gathered next to stalls selling various different foods. Ormont: the city that never sleeps.
Morning came slowly with the first rays of day passing through the large window. Daring woke up gradually slightly confused, but then remembered what she had done yesterday and relaxed again. Looking over at the hospital bed, she could see the earth pony stirring, deviating from his deep breaths of sleep and rising into the conscious land of the living again. Soon he opened an eye slowly and looked around without physically exerting himself, then laid back down onto the bed with a look of exhaustion on his face.
Daring thought it would be best to leave introductions to later, when he had fully awoken; not in his current dreary state. Looking over at the clocktower through the window, it displayed that the time was six thirty – in the morning of course. The streets were filled with zebras making their way to work and whatnot. Whatever the residents here did in the mornings.
The doctor from last night came in again after an hour. He opened the door soundlessly, then pulled a chair next to the bed. “Hello, forgive me for not introducing myself last night. Doctor Ambrosia at your service,” he greeted Daring politely. He was one of the only doctors that wasn’t a zebra in the hospital.
“Daring Do, but I’m sure you know that already,” Daring replied.
“Quite. Now, let’s see if this pony will wake for us, eh?” Ambrosia said as he drew a pad of paper from the bed stand and the pen from his ear.
The earth pony seemed to stir again, then leaned up onto the bed, giving him a clear view of the room and the ponies who were in it. Daring couldn’t read his face, whether it was surprise or confusion. “Umm. Hello?” he mumbled, unsure of what to say, eyes flicking between Daring and Ambrosia.
“Take it easy there,” Ambrosia said, “We’ll explain everything in a moment. First, we must confirm your identity, as the pony who rescued you did it out of the goodness of her heard, and did not know you in any way. Can you remember your name?”
“Jackson,” he said, “Jackson Wanderer.”
“Ok. It looks like you don’t have any major damage to the brain, which was what I was most concerned about. We’ve been monitoring you for a while now. Your body seems fine as of yet,” Ambrosia informed as he scratched a note onto the pad. “By the way, my name is Ambrosia for future reference.”
“How did I get here exactly?” Jack asked, looking around the room then concluded, “Well at least I’m not being dragged into a dungeon and tortured. Anything else would be more than fine.”
“Right, probably wouldn’t be in your best interest to die in the desert again either,” Ambrosia laughed, “Well, I better be off now. I’ve got a busy schedule. I’ll leave you two in peace now.” Ambrosia opened the door again and slipped off down the hallway.
“How did I get here,” Jack asked Daring again.
“It’s probably time I answer that question properly,” Daring replied. She sat down in a more comfortable position and started.
Is our future already determined? Chances are, if we replay what happened in this universe in a simulation, history would always be as we have recorded. What is to say that our future isn’t governed by the same concept?
“That was quite the coincidence then,” Jack sighed, staring out of the window.
“Quite,” Daring replied. One day after Jack had woken up in the hospital room, she was still there, watching over him. One day too many, her conscience told her. There was one specific reason she desperately wanted to come to Ormont, and sitting in a hospital room watching over some stranger was not high on her mile-long list of to do’s.
“So, why were you walking through the plains? There is a train line that leads directly to Ormont,” Daring asked, trying to change the topic.
“Well, a client asked me to draw a new map of the area because apparently, he wanted to redesign the railway to Ormont or something. He saw it as a way of gaining a higher status in the Canterlot society or some crap like that. He came to the cartographer’s office, and I was the unlucky pony to be assigned this task,” Jack replied with a snort, “I probably should have moved out of Canterlot sooner, in hindsight. I didn’t fit into the society there anyways.”
“I never understood the Canterlot society either,” Daring admitted, although she had lived there for most of her life. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was almost dusk again of another day. Ambrosia told her that he hoped to discharge Jack from the hospital that day, and there was no sign of him yet.
An hour later, the door opened and a familiar pony strode into the room, carrying a stack of paperwork. “Good evening Jackson. Good evening Daring,” he greeted. “These are the papers you need to sign,” he pulled out four papers out of the stack and floated a pen towards Jack, “Just sign in the blank space on the bottom of those pages and you’ll be free to go this evening.”
Jack bit the pen with his mouth and signed the papers given to him, then passed the papers back to Ambrosia.
“Perfect,” he said, “You are free to go now. Just don’t get yourself back here anytime soon.”
“Don’t worry Ambrosia. I’ll make sure of that,” Daring farewelled as she walked out of the ward with Jack following closely.
“I’m sure you will,” Ambrosia said as he waved the two goodbye.
After exiting the hospital, Jack realised that he did not have his wallet, or his saddlebags for that matter. “I just realised that I’m screwed,” he stated plainly to Daring, “I do not know where my wallet is, hell, I don’t know what happened to my saddlebags.”
“Don’t worry, I had them sent back to my motel,” Daring replied, causing a wave of calm to wash over Jack as he sighed.
“Important things were in them,” he explained subtly.
The walk back to the motel was uneventful. The sun was shining down relentlessly on them, especially in the places where the heat was concentrated due to some of the parabolic glass buildings that surrounded them. As usual, it was hell trying to walk through the striped crowds of zebras. The stripes were disorienting. Evolution sure did a good job on making the zebras hard to prey on; almost too good a job.
After arriving back at the motel Daring originally rent a room at, she gave Jack the saddlebags and all the other little trinkets that fell out of them during transport. He looked through them thoroughly to check that nothing was missing. Ten minutes of rummaging through his saddlebags later, he looked up at Daring, “It looks like nothing of importance is missing. Thank you for saving my life. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” Daring chuckled, “Now I’ve got a few errands to run. I’ll see you around if you want, but you are free to go now.”
“Thank you Daring. Goodbye,” Jack farewelled as he trotted out of the room quite contently. Daring couldn’t help but to think that he be popping up around the place again as she exited the room also. It seemed likely at the time.
Daring walked through the city roads again, which were now considerably quieter than when she back to the motel. The sun was high in the sky and beating down ferociously on her. Quickly following her senses, she made her way to a familiar nook in the outer reaches of the big city, into a small shop with glass cabinets lined with prized firearms and a large wooden counter in the middle of the room, where a small pad of paper and a safe sat.
“Ferrum!” Daring called from the counter, “It’s Daring.”
A wrinkled old stallion with a messy grey bustled out from the back room, “Daring! It’s been too long since I’ve last seen you. You’ve grown so much.”
“Yes, I’ve been meaning to visit you some time, and I just so happened to get an assignment that led me to Ormont,” Daring said.
“Well that’s lucky, isn’t it? Now, what can I do for you?” Ferrum asked.
“It just so happens that I need a new rifle. My old one split down the stock and the receiver is busted. It was a damned nice one too,” Daring said bitterly. She had grown quite attached to her old rifle as it was her trusty companion for over a decade.
Ferrum quickly ducked back into the back room and came out in the blink of an eye, carrying two beautifully crafted rifles. “Which one do you want? This one,” he pointed to the rifle on the left, “is chambered in .302 and has a magazine of six shells. That one is chambered in .50 and is bolt action. Comes with quite a nice scope too. It’s a times four magnification.”
“How expensive are the low velocity rounds for the .50?” Daring asked.
“Twenty bits per dozen.”
“I’ll take the .302 then,” Daring decided, “It’ll be cheaper in the long run and I won’t have to fiddle with the bolt.”
As she finished her sentence, the bell at the door chimed and a familiar pony was walking into the store. “Fancy seeing you here, Jack,” she remarked, “You didn’t seem like a pony who was interested in guns to me.”
“I was going to get old Ferrum here to help repair my revolver. It looks the like the grip has cracked a little,” he said. “By the way, I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“My old rifle went haywire. Receiver broke somehow. I’m going out on an expedition very soon into the jungle. I wouldn’t mind some company,” Daring offered. It seemed like a companion was going to be needed in this expedition due to the treacherous terrain. Two ponies are better than one, right?
“Yeah, sure. It’s not like I have anything else to do. I’ll get the details off you later. I’ll come to your motel room,” Jack answered. It surprised Daring that he accepted her offer, as most ponies didn’t like to live a dangerous life, all of them made soft by Celestia’s rule, but that can be talked about at another time.
After walking through the city again, returning to her motel room, Daring found Jack waiting for her in front of the door. Taking out the keys clumsily, she unlocked it and let Jack into the room. Daring threw the case which contained the gun onto the bed and took out a large map of the county from her saddlebags, unfurling it on the table in the corner of the room. She gestured for Jack to take a seat opposite from her, and took out a pen from under her wings.
“This isn’t going to be an easy walk in the woods,” Daring started, “From what I know, there will be wolves and other creatures in the jungles surrounding Ormont, so we must be alert at all times.”
“Yeah, I get it. That’s the normal stuff. What are we actually looking for here?” Jack asked impatiently, despising how everypony underestimates his capabilities. ‘Wolves?’ he thought, ‘Barely worth the bullet.’
“There’s a magical amulet inside some old ruins in the jungle. I want to get it before some other creature lays their dirty hooves on it,” Daring said as she took out a compass and started making small markings on the map. “It should be located in some ancient ruins south-east of our current location. The best thing you can do now is to stock up on supplies, then meet me beside the jungle on the hill over there in a few days,” Daring pointed at the map.
“Ah, yes. About that,” Jack said apologetically, “I don’t seem to have enough bits to rent a room. I wasn’t expecting to stay in Ormont for long when I packed.”
Daring sighed. “You’ll have to bunk with me then. I don’t have enough bits for you to borrow to get a lodging either.”
The rest of the day passed quickly, the two friends chatting about whatever comes to mind and watching the sun set over the horizon out of the motel window. “We might as well leave tomorrow,” Jack suggested late in the afternoon, “We’re both ready to an extent. I just need to get my revolver back from Ferrum on the way.”
“We should now get some sleep if we are leaving tomorrow. Keeping watch at night, even with two ponies, is tiresome and I don’t want either of us falling asleep when we do it,” Daring said, walking to her saddlebags then rummaging through them to check that everything that was supposed to be present, was indeed present. Jack shrugged and strolled into the bathroom and turned on the shower while Daring grabbed her book and jumped onto the bed and prepared for a good night’s sleep... well, that was the plan anyways.
Morning came quickly. Dawn broke peacefully and as the sun’s first rays shone over the horizon and through the curtains, Daring cracked an eye open and looked around. The room was dimly lit but pleasant as a cool draught blew from the cracks that were in the window frame. She stretched and began her morning routines by turning on the shower for a brisk wash. Ten minutes later, she dressed in her usual clothing, then walked out of the bathroom in her less dishevelled form.
Looking at the bed, she realised the Jack was still sleeping soundly on his undisturbed side of the bed. Thinking quickly, she brought a glass from the small kitchen to the sink and filled it with icy water from the tap. It wasn’t her that needed to clean the sheets anyways so without a second thought, se roughly chucked the water onto Jack, who reacted immediately by sitting straight up and shooting Daring a death glare. If looks could kill…
“Morning sleepyhead. Had a nice nap?” Daring asked casually as she walked back over to the kitchen and found the stash of instant coffee.
“It was nice until you threw the damned water on me,” he sighed, almost sounding disappointed. “I was having a great dream too.”
“Well, welcome back to our glorious world of reality. We need to get going before the day is too far gone,” Daring said, dragging him out of bed and pushing him gently towards his saddlebags. “Quickly pack. We’ll grab some rations in town, then we’re going to head into the wilderness.”
Jack packed swiftly, as requested, and was out the door along with Daring in less than ten minutes, heading towards the large city. By the time they left the more urbanised parts of town and around them were tall trees covering the sky with their deep green canopies, night was approaching again. The light that did shine through the canopy was of a deep orange hue.
“I’ll take first watch tonight,” Daring said as she trudged through the dense undergrowth, “We’ll take half the night each.”
“Sure,” Jack replied, “Let’s find a place to set our stuff down and start a fire, shall we?”
“Yes, we shall.” Daring soon stopped next to a hollow tree. Striking a match, she explored the interior which seemed to be mostly empty, save a pile of dry leaves on the ground, and the perfect shelter for a temporary camp. “Let’s settle here for the night,” Daring said as she laid her saddlebags on the dry leaves and took out a few oatmeal biscuits, “It’ll shield us from the wind”.
Jack scavenged for a few dry branches around the surrounding area and set them in a neat pile in front of the hollow. He then struck his little flint and steel to procure a nice warm flame, which cackled happily upon the dry wood, then joined Daring inside the tree. He followed suit and took some of his own oatmeal biscuits and feasted upon them while watching the dancing flames, flickering in the brisk gusts.
The noises in the jungle were alien to Jack who spent most of his days roaming the vast plains and the sprawling metropolises. The occasional howl of a wolf woke him up in a startled sweat, and the hoot of an owl sent shivers up his spine. It was completely dark under the canopy with no sight of the silvery moon, or the blanket of stars that Jack was accustomed to seeing every night. Save the illumination of the embers of the fire, everything else was pitch dark like an empty void. He turned uneasily in his sleep, with wild dreams of exotic monsters hunting him down in the jungle, which sent him unconscious into the morning.