Salvation | Rebirth

Wild’s horn was alight with magic as he held the booklet about Canterlot in his magical grasp, his brows furrowed and his face set in focus. Included with the booklet - which had so far turned out to contain more pages than its thickness would naturally allow, at least in Wild’s opinion and observation - was a detailed fold-out map of the city, dated to a month ago. Like any map of a city, it contained streets and buildings, as well as their names, in a simplified manner. He had found that the city was organized fairly well, in a layout that simply made sense. The major roads radiated off the Canterlot Central Train Station, intersected at various likely important points, and then converged at the Canterlot Castle. Which was, of course, logical - CCTS was the passenger train station in Canterlot, the only one, and the Canterlot Castle was the very center of Equestria, and the place from where the government ruled.

Canterlot Central Train Station Park, or the Entrance Park, or the Edge Park, was where he was now. It was immediately adjacent to CCTS, which had once been the Canterlot Gateway - the only entrance and exit point where the city could be entered without the aid of flight or teleportation. It had once been an entire wall, heavily fortified with a number of towers and magical defenses. Standing on top of the Entrance Gatehouse, one would see the narrow bridge that connected the entrance of the city to the Mountain Tunnel, which was first dug precisely to provide even more defenses for the city against any ground assault. In the entire history of Canterlot, it had not been assaulted via the Canterlot Gateway once. In fact, the only time Canterlot had ever faced true siege - as much as it could be called a siege - was the Changeling Invasion, which had used trickery to bypass otherwise impregnable defenses.

Wild was impressed. Of course, he knew that assaulting a castle straight-on was, more often than not, a bad idea in general - they were made with that in mind. Canterlot’s own advantageous position on the side of the mountain definitely made it not viable as a target for any kind of ground assault. Not only would any coming army be seen way before they would reach even halfway up the mountain, there was pretty much no way for any siege equipment to be transported so high up even in a disassembled state. However, even if the city itself could not be attacked, what about the food supply? One would hardly need to take the city by assault if it could be starved out instead. However, the booklet didn’t contain an answer to that, so he would, perhaps, have to find the answer elsewhere. Perhaps there were greenhouses and such somewhere in the city that could, when needed, supply enough food to stretch out the siege until the city could be relieved from the outside?

Some centuries ago, the entire defensive structure of the Canterlot Gateway was demolished, and then replaced with Canterlot Central Train Station. Wild thought that was quite a shame - he would have loved to see those old defenses. However, he also understood that it likely wasn’t easy to build where the city was, so demolishing things that no longer served a purpose made sense. However, since, as far as he knew, military technology hadn’t really improved in Equestria for many centuries, wouldn’t it still make sense to keep those defenses? Or did defenses improve so much that replacing the old ones with a train station did not introduce a much higher security risk? Once again, the booklet didn’t contain the answer to that.

The Entrance Park, which was also sometimes called the Green Gateway, was first established to muffle the noise of incoming and outgoing trains. Later, that function was transferred over to Noise Dampening Pylons, magical constructs that held all the noise at bay. The Entrance Park remained despite that, however, now second best to the Royal Gardens over in the Canterlot Castle, at least when it came to publicly accessible parks.

Wild looked at the area surrounding the castle. From what he could tell, from all sides except the front, it was surrounded by mansions of rich people and nobility. It was a somewhat jarring look in comparison to the density of the rest of the city. Undoubtedly, the cost of living was higher because those ‘high and mighty’ held more land than they could possibly ever need. If what Wild was seeing was correct, it was about a quarter of the entire city space, which was no small amount.

Wild remembered a proverb or saying or whatever it was, though he wasn’t sure of the wording. ‘In a rich man’s house, the only spot to spit is on his face’. He didn’t remember the context of this, but he agreed wholeheartedly all the same. Old anger rose inside of him as he remembered learning just how much rich people had, so many things and lands that they never needed, while he had been out there starving on the street. If he somehow went back there while still having all his current powers... things would be very different.

Wild took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. At least he wasn’t homeless now. His new body didn’t know starvation and, he hoped, never would.

As fascinating as the history of Canterlot was, Wild wanted something to do. When he looked at the map, his eyes traveling along various roads, he was struck by what his mother called ‘eyes running scattered’. There were so many options, and he had no idea what to choose. Well, that wasn’t exactly true - he knew what he could choose, he knew what he would not mind choosing, and yet... he struggled.

The city contained many places he would like to visit. There was some sort of amusement park not far from where he was, which he would really like to visit, though he wasn’t sure whether it was what he truly wanted or perhaps it was just a childhood dream reemerging in his mind now that he had the opportunity to fulfill it. After all, he had never been to a real amusement park - his family couldn’t really afford it back then. He cast his mind back, remembering hearing about bumper cars or something of that sort, the ferris wheel or whatever it was called, the... fast-going thing on rails, which, he remembered, his father called ‘American mountains’, though he was certain it was named differently. There was also... throwing things on stacks of things in order to knock most of them off to win a prize? Whatever it was, he would likely want to go there and see what was what. It could be fun, after all. However, he hoped there was no real circus - after what he had learned about the treatment of animals in circuses, he no longer wanted to go there.

There were also, naturally, a lot of museums of all different kinds, and a part of him wanted to visit all of them. However, he knew they had a limited amount of time despite having virtually an entire day to explore the city, and he had no idea when or even if he would go to Canterlot again. After all, he would probably require money, and he didn’t expect to have much to spare past his living expenses once he was out of the Royal Orphanage and living on his own.

“So, what do you think?” he heard Artful ask, pulling him away from his own thoughts. The others had already dispersed, their own paths clear.

Wild shrugged somewhat helplessly. There were truly many things he could do, but he had limited time, and he also had limited money, and there was just too much to choose from, and he felt like this very fact froze him in place and refused to let his mind work and make a decision.

“Well, I’d like to start along the Artist Artery,” Artful gestured at a street. It was surrounded by, naturally, art-related things, “Check out a few shops, maybe get some special hues or brushes, that sort of stuff. Then,” his eyes shone brightly in excitement, “History of Art Museum! It has some really spectacular things! There’s some, like, unbelievable stuff, even if a lot of people don’t like it,” Artful scoffed a bit, “Oh yes, I know just a solid blue square isn’t, like, traditional art stuff, but the technique which it was made with! You just have to see it.”

“...I would not mind going with you,” Wild said, as it was easier than trying to figure out what he wanted to do alone.

“You sure?” Artful asked, and Wild nodded, “Alright. Hey, maybe you’ll see something you like along the way too!”

Wild shrugged uncertainly, but then nodded. Perhaps he would indeed find something for himself while walking around. It was... a better idea than trying to plan.

As Wild and Artful emerged from the park, both were awestruck by the sight in front of them. Of course, there were the buildings, which reminded Wild of pictures of old cities of Europe that he had seen, all relatively low and nicely decorated and just, in general, old-looking, though far from decrepit. However, then there was the mountain side, which went up and up until it ended in a peak covered in snow. Wild had never seen a mountain this close before, certainly not where he could essentially walk up to it. He had spotted the area around where the city connected to the mountain side on the map, and that area was mostly left as it was before the city was built. It couldn’t really be called a park, though it was still maintained to a certain degree. Wild wanted to visit that place, to see where the mountain rose away from the flatness of the city, where there was nothing but going up.

The mountain side was steep, but not so steep that it couldn’t be traversed. Though, Wild also wondered how people in Canterlot dealt with possible avalanches or falling rocks or whatever other dangers the mountain represented. Thankfully, at least it wasn’t a volcano, because if it was, Wild would question the sanity of whomever decided to place a city there. As it was, he already had many questions about the viability of having a city this high up.

“This is amazing,” Artful said breathlessly, and Wild nodded in agreement.

Artist Artery got its name from being the life of the city. People of Canterlot were proud of their art, and many called the city ‘the Capital of Beauty’, and Wild could definitely see that. The street was where artists lived and made their living, with various small galleries, art supplies shops, quick portrait services, and generally plenty of art for sale on display.

Wild, almost subconsciously, judged the street by safety and ability to get food and water. He had already spotted a public bathroom, which would allow him both some water to drink - at least he hoped so - as well as wash up and relieve himself where it was safe and expected to be done. However, the street was far too busy to be considered safe for sleeping at night.

A small band of young ponies was assembled: a cellist, a bassist, a violinist, and a drummer, all of them smiling widely as they performed their music, which was neither too slow nor too fast, and seemed just perfect for the visitors of the Artery.

“Street musicians!” Artful almost squeaked in excitement, grinning widely, hurrying in their direction, and Wild followed.

Wild had seen street performers of various kinds before, from musicians to tricksters, and it definitely brought life to the street, allowing a moment’s reprieve from the day to day grind. Whenever Wild saw one, he would stop what he was doing, sit down somewhere, and just watch and listen. He remembered a regular, a young guy possibly in his late teens or early twenties, playing the guitar and singing with quite a beautiful and powerful voice. Wild wondered whether the guy was struggling financially or just wanted to earn some money on the side. He had never approached him, so he never learned.

The Artist Artery had a surprising amount of benches all over it, and they weren’t uncomfortable either. Artful and Wild sat down, relaxing a bit and listening to the street performers. Wild found himself nodding his head to the tempo of the song. He noted that plenty of ponies were doing the same, smiling, some even bursting out into dance here and there. Wild felt the same urge, though it was relatively quiet, and he didn’t listen to it. Dancing in public, that was not something he was ready to do. Besides, he had not danced at all in a long, long while, and anything he could come up with would be awkward and off-beat. He noticed Artful was bobbing side to side with his whole body, which brought a smile to Wild’s face. At least one of them was properly excited.

Wild observed everyone, and he judged the street, or at least this part of it, to be safe to be in during the day. It simply had that kind of energy where anyone trying to make trouble would be extremely obvious as well as unwelcome. The best way to remain unnoticed, in Wild’s experience, was looking like he belonged. For him, it meant making sure that he looked clean, that his clothes weren’t torn or smelly, and that he moved along at a similar pace to the others.

The song later ended, and some ponies stomped their approval in their version of applause, and Wild did the same - if quietly. Then he and Artful stood up, continuing on their way while the street musicians conversed with some ponies who approached them.

“Ooh, Feather Paint’s Art Supplies!” Artful gestured at one of the larger shops, “Let’s take a look!”

Wild nodded, following Artful into the shop. As they pushed the door open, a tinkling bell sounded from above them. The first impression Wild got from the shop that it was somewhat cramped with all sorts of, naturally, art supplies. Canvasses of various sizes and, as far as he could see, textures, paint brushes of different shapes and material and, for some reason, even color, and... some art tools that looked like someone attached a wooden handle to a feather.

“Hello!” they were greeted by, presumably, the shop owner. They were a pegasus with feathers that seemed permanently stained with various shades of paint, “Welcome to my shop!” their eyes glanced at Artful’s flank and spotted his mark, “Oh, you’re an artist too? Nice to meet you, I’m Feather Paint!” they ruffled their wings and smiled, “You can see why.”

“Yeah,” Artful chuckled shyly, “Um, I was wondering... do you have something special? I have regular, you know, brushes and canvasses and all, but maybe there’s... more that I can do.”

“Oh, no problem, lemme recommend you a couple o’ things!” the other pegasus chirped excitedly, “My specialization is painting with feathers, so you can grab one of those or an entire set,” they gestured at the feather-brushes.

As Artful and the shop owner talked, Wild remained silent as he followed behind Artful. He remembered Luna telling him that picking up painting would help with visualization, which was important when it came to magic, but he wasn’t sure he would want that. Besides, if he were to start, he could easily just go to the Art Club and paint there with all that they provided. He did not really need to buy anything in this store or, likely, at all, as far as art supplies were concerned. At least for now - he had no idea if he would actually properly get into art, and it would be a waste to buy all those supplies and then end up never using them. Sure, he could easily just give them to Artful if that turned out to be the case, but it wasn't an ideal outcome.

“...I can also give you just the handles, and then you will use your own feathers,” Feather Paint told Artful, “It’s easy. Just get the feather you want, insert it by the stem, and then tighten the small bolt here with a hex wrench. Or I can give you a primer on feather painting, though that would make your wings look like mine in very short order.”

“I think I will get the handles,” Artful nodded.

Money exchanged, and now Artful had what he needed. In addition to the handles, he got some paint, though Wild could not personally see the difference between it and the regular paint, but what did he know about it?

“Do you want anything?” Artful asked him quietly, aware that Wild made himself unobtrusive on purpose. Wild shook his head, and so the two exited the shop. Once Wild was outside, he felt somewhat relieved.

Wild and Artful walked along the Artist Artery for a short while, and Wild could sense that Artful had a question of some kind, but was somewhat hesitant to speak it, though Wild didn’t know the reason why.

“Wild,” Artful said, “When I, um, want to get my feathers for feather painting... would you like to help me with that?”

“...will it hurt?” Wild asked. He imagined that pulling a feather out would feel like pulling a hair out, though maybe he was wrong.

“Oh, if you pull the wrong feather, yeah,” Artful said, “But, um... well, we pegasi have to preen ourselves sometime. Get rid of loose feathers, fix the alignment, remove broken stuff, all that. So yeah, finding a loose feather should be fine.”

There was still some shyness in his voice, and Wild had no idea why.

“It’s... um, preening someone else’s feathers is a bit... intimate,” Artful admitted, and now it made sense, “Well, family helps family, you know, but... so, I had to do it all by myself. It’s fine, but... I wouldn’t mind if you helped me. If you want to, that is.”

“Alright,” Wild nodded, and he filed away the information on preening. It appeared Artful inviting Wild to do that was... a sign of trust, one that made him warm on the inside, “I will help you with your feathers.”

“Okay,” Artful said, and then the two went silent.

Wild couldn’t say it was the most exciting start to his exploration of Canterlot, but at least he learned a thing about Artful and about the world in general. He didn’t feel strongly one way or the other about preening Artful’s feathers, but... perhaps it would be intimate. Not that, in his opinion, it was more intimate than sex, which they had already had. However, there was still something... he couldn’t quite say what exactly.

Perhaps he would figure it out later. After all, there was still the rest of Canterlot to explore, and they had barely just begun.