For the millionth time I returned to the observation car, bored out of my mind. The scenery wasn’t particularly interesting, but it was far more interesting than sitting in the passenger car. The rolling hills grew taller to the north, and soon we would be turning there to delve into the mountain range and ascend to Canterlot. Unfortunately, that is going to be hours from now. I rested my head against the table.

“There is nothing to do,” I exasperated.

I had made a mistake when I read all the way through the book I had brought in the first few hours of the ride. I didn’t think how boring trains could be without having friends to take with during the ride. But, the tickets were short and realistically they were all tied up this weekend anyways.

I ventured down to the cafe car since it was only a flight of stairs beneath the observation car. Once I saw the prices I nearly cried; they were so over inflated a sports stadium would consider them a rip off. My search for something to do, however, was greater than my desire to maintain the current weight of my wallet.

I picked out the snack with the seemingly highest amount of individual units and walked over to the counter. With a great reluctance I placed the six bits in front of the cashier and went upstairs. peice by peice I ate the bag of strange candies, not because they were particularly good and I wanted to enjoy them for a while, nor was it because they were bad and the only thing I had, but rather that eating them slowly would repel the monotony of the train ride for perhaps a few minutes longer.

The sun streamed down light from its highest point in the sky onto the parched summer landscape. A breeze that was bliss for the grass streamed from the train that bulleted past, allowing for the grass directly next to the tracks retain a hint of green instead of turning completely withered yellow.

I tried closing my eyes and letting the gentle tossing of the train ease me to sleep. It didn’t work. No amount of even the strongest of drugs could make me tired now, after being on this train for 17 hours, 13 of which were sleeping.

All of the other ponies are busy talking with their friends or reading their book, so I don’t want to bother them. And how did all of them manage to stay entertained? A lot of them were on this train before I was and look to have an endless supply of entertainment.

Actually, have we stopped yet?

It doesn’t look like there’s any town for miles and the train has to be using some sort of fuel. I don’t think they loaded tons of fuel on at the Ponyville stop, and even so, they would have used all of it by now. Unless, do trains run on magic? It would be efficient, though I would feel bad for the unicorns that would have to deal with riding this train for a living. I already feel bad for the conductor and the fuel shovelers, but I overheard somepony saying they get long vacations.

I wish I had a chariot, or maybe just being able to fly into the city, but unfortunately the stupid force field had to be put back up because a bunch of changelings are showing up again. The Princess says she’s working on breaking whatever magic that is robbing their freedom and forcing them to attack the city. I don’t know how she expects to do that, or even how she knows there is a spell to begin with, but I doubt that even if she exceed that anything good will happen from it. No pony want those things running around in any place remotely close to civilization.

But still, what would a changeling, assuming that such a spell is on them, be like without the spell on them? Could it talk, would it need to feed on love, or is that a fabrication of the spell? What if they were nothing more than ponies that could change shape and Chrysalis created that form to make them appear less pony like so she could lead them, brainwashed, into battle during which any number of them could die so she wouldn’t feel guilty when they did die? Did they have an empire? A cave? A hive? Where did they live?

And what of the other enemies of Equestria? What are their backstories? Who was Discord, where was he from, were there more Draconequi?

I finished off the candy and looked out the window; thankfully the mountains were creeping closer to the train. Perhaps this train ride would be over soon enough.

I looked around, mares, stallions, fillies, and colts of all different builds, heights, ages, colors, races, talents, and walks of life were sitting, standing, and trotting around the car. What were all of their stories? How did they get on this train? How were they feeling? What was their life like and how was that effecting their thoughts? Were they tired?

Then one caught my attention, he was a young colt, navy coat, softened scarlet and rich orange mane, like the sunrise over a murky night. But that wasn’t what was fascinating. He was a young colt, very young, he didn’t even have a cutie mark yet.

And no one was with him.

He was looking back and forth nervously, but I still managed to see that he was biting his lip. The way he was sitting allowed him to keep holding his saddlebag close.

Was he there a minute ago?

I looked around, nopony else seemed to notice him. I tried to look at him again, but he was gone.

“Shit!” I said as I stood up and looked around.

I scanned the car for the orange mane, and saw it exit the car heading towards the engine car. How’d he move that fast?

I jumped over everypony in the car, who were quite mad at me at this point, gliding inches from the ceiling until I landed in front of the door, bursting it open.The noise of the air rushing past me filled the car. My mane blew back from the rush of cool air, and my nose filled with the scent of mountain air.

Had we reached the mountains already?

I shook my head and continued into the next car. An initial glanced yield no avail in my search for the young colt. I stepped forward next to the first row of seats as the door clicked shut behind me and the air stilled. I knew he had to be in here, so I kept looking. I glanced up and down the aisle looking for the orange mane: hot pink, magenta, yellow, polka dotted? (Crazy fashion trends), orange!

No, too pastel.

I thought perhaps looking for his coat instead would be better: black, brown, white, blue, lavender, green, cyan. Nowhere was there a navy coat; it was like he disappeared.

I blew the strands of my mane that had been blown into my eyes by the breeze.

How could he be that fast? He was like nine!

I looked over at the old couple in the seats across the first row, they had been sitting there and looking at me strange since I walked in. Directly next to me were two vacant seats, which is why I decided to stand here, and nopony had passed me in the aisle.

So who opened the door?

I spun around and repeatedly mashed the open button, then practically yanked the door open as it creeped open. As soon as I could I hit the second door’s button I did, and slid through the crack as soon as I could. I paused and scanned the car while I waited the doors to click: one, far door closed, two, near door, closed.

So why was it still windy?

Again I 180’ed and looked through the narrow window; trough it I saw a navy blue colt running down the aisle from a wide open door.

Ignoring the ponies behind me asking me questions I chased after him, determined not to lose sight of him. For the first time I saw the wings on his side and thought that’s how he pulled that trick.

He kept running: one, two, three passenger cars. My breathing became heavy, how could this kid have so much stamina? As I ran into the first sleeper car I almost ran into the wall of the room, and had to kick off of it after slowing with my wings. Once I went around the corner into the aisle I stopped dead; he was standing there, waiting.

“What do you want from me,” He shouted. No, not shout, he spoke forcefully, but very controlled.

“I just want to talk,” I said gentle, but strained between heavy breaths.

He glared at me skeptically, so I asked, “Why are you running?”

“Why are you chasing me?” he retorted.

“Because you looked like you need help. Who’s with you?”

His eyes narrowed as the door behind me opened, breaking the silence with the rushing of air.

But something more, a muffled voice, what did it say?

“Grab him!”

I leaped forward just as the train plunged into the blackness of the tunnels. For a minute we remained in darkness before the lights flickered on in the car. Small hooves nudged at my side as a voice said, “Quick, we have to catch him.”

I looked back to who was talking to me: deep purple eyes worriedly looked back at me from behind a tattered and messy mane. A bright orange mane. From his nose flowed a tricking of scarlet over his coat. His navy coat.

I jumped up and lifted him, slamming him across the wall demanding, “Who are you?”

“Stop, you’re hurting me!” he cried.

“Who are you!”

“Let me go, I’m Good Dawn.”

I held him there, blinking at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stop hurting me,” he whimpered, starting to cry, “Bad Dawn must have ran off.”

“I’m not going to fall for another one of your trick, tell me why you’re going to the engine!” I ordered.

“Look!” he shouted pointing at the vacant doorway at the end of the car.

“What about it,” I asked, forcing him against the wall again.

“There’s not a door!” He sputtered out between sobs.

I dropped him and looked towards the door. There was a second voice from behind be, so that was this kid, so the other one must be up there.

“Come with me,” I instinctively said as I ran towards the engine.

As I ran I realized that all the doors were ripped off, and only realized why when I reached the door to the engine: they were a barricade. I stood before a doorway crammed with crumpled doors as small hoofsteps approached along with heavy breathing.

“Dawn,” I whispered.

“Yes?” he answered.

“I think the train’s accelerating.”

Author's Note

This marks the end of part 2 of chapter 1, as well as the mark of within a week of finishing the rest of chapter 1 (Probably). Aiming for Sunday the 3rd for being done, so, stay tuned