Ancient Equestria: Revival
Ch#1 Ancient Equestria: Revival
Ancient Equestria: Revival
By: Fenix Dust
Chapter 1: Missteps
Harmony. For thousands of years it was the tenet of our nation. It was something we all believed in, and for good reason. Trust in one another made us strong. It kept the cycle of peace and understanding going for countless lifetimes. Trust, however, is a balancing act...One that we couldn’t sustain forever.
When Equestria slipped into war the cycle of trust was broken, and with every skirmish we lost more and more of who we were. Color drained from our hides, magic faded, the skies darkened, and overnight, our princesses who had been with us for longer than recorded history, were gone.
War begot war, and as it raged on and on the cruelty of it all stained the minds of those who lived and died on this humble rock. Our desire for vengeance spurred us to create machines of war to compensate for our dwindling magic. The violence - unlike anything we have imagined in the days of old; compounded with every passing day, driving us further and further into the dark. No one could afford to be a bystander in the war. No one was safe.
Equestria’s evil had become runaway, and there was no end in sight.
Despite all of our hardships we remembered this history, as it was our downfall, but also the key to our future. Our world had become bitter and cold, but the war had ended. It was time for us to heal.
If evil was a cycle then good must be too. It would take time, and persistence, but we would eventually change for the better, and the princesses would return to us.
Or at least that’s what the books said...
******
It wasn’t terribly common for me to make mistakes. But when I did make an error in judgement, it was usually so monumental that it made me question everything I thought I knew.
“Why, Maple, do you never learn? You had it in the bag. All you had to do was keep your mouth shut,” I thought to myself.
I’d been doing a certain job for a few years. People called me a courier, a messenger, or a diplomat. I supposed the title of diplomat would be accurate, but I didn’t often pick sides. Well, by that I meant I played all of them. Noble kings, warlords, slave traders, tribal savages. I’d learned just what to say and what to ask to get them to play nice
I was constantly disappointed that after all these centuries no one had learned that it was the secret to maintaining peace. I had looked up at so many knights and kings who would rather risk death for the chance of success rather than make smaller sacrifices to ensure they got some of it. Sure, wars won big rewards but not for long. A few years down the line and it’d be time for the next war. Bury some bodies, redistribute some wealth, party, make some foals, then realize you need more resources. Rinse and repeat.
I’d explained this before, but it’s one of the many patterns seen in Equestria’s history. A king might listen to you if you remind him how unoriginal his plan is; with historical facts of course. It’s why I spent about a quarter of my meager earnings on books. A small mare like me doesn’t have to eat all that much, nor pay for an extra square yard of fabric to wear. What I needed was knowledge and cunning. It didn’t matter so much if you could see my ribs, as any pony could easily end me even if I was in prime condition.
I had learned to be careful as a result, but that time I fucked up bad. Only after I spent the last hour being pursued did I realize that the warning signs were there all along. They were savages in Duskport, and they had their own way of dealing with white lies. The way they swung down at me with weapons as big as my body, and the things they screamed they’d do to me. I heard the dogs hunting me down, following my scent as I sprinted into the woods as fast as my short legs could carry me.
Sweat poured over my brow as I thrust my legs against the dirt again and again. My lungs seared as I forced myself to breathe. Don’t slip...One slip and it’s over. The hounds were close enough for me to hear the rattle of their collars. Thank the gods for my cloven hooves. If the dogs were trained to look for my tracks they would have already caught me hours before.
My luck was running out though. The air felt thicker in my lungs, as if I was breathing water. My horn lit up, possibly giving away my position, but I needed to dump my bags. A month’s worth of silver and my precious books tumbled onto the ground, but I felt lighter. I had a chance.
Conifer trees whipped by as I ran faster than I had in a long time. I could hear angry yelling from my pursuers. Maybe if they dropped their weapons they could have caught me, but they didn’t seem that smart.
As that smug thought passed through my oxygen deprived brain I had a lapse of concentration and my left foreleg landed in what must have been a rabbit hole. The snap was like a log popping in a bonfire. I felt electrifying pain freeze my body momentarily as momentum carried me forward. As my joint inverted I saw the world invert as well. I landed upside down and began tumbling down the hillside. My spine smashed into a fallen tree trunk, piercing my hide with the stump of a branch. I smelled dirt and pine as I planted my face into the ground time and time again. My heart stopped as I fell through nothing but air, only to luck out by falling through a soft evergreen branch. It slowed me enough to ensure that the following impact against solid rock was only enough to knock the wind out of me.
I heard a rushing sound as I peeled myself up off the ground. A concussion? Wheezing, I sat up only for my leg to loosely collapse under my weight. I yelped like a filly only to immediately cover my mouth. Tears ran down my cheeks as my gritted teeth nearly pulverized themselves against each other. I panted a moment to catch my breath, but I was soon silenced by the sound of jingling collars.
Where!? Where do I run? Can I run? I looked around. The rushing sound wasn’t brain damage after all. It was a river. If I crossed it, I could throw the dogs off my scent!
Ignoring my flopping appendage I stood on three legs and started climbing down the rock face. I stumbled here and there, but for a cripple I was making okay timing. At least until I heard barking…Fuck, I hated dogs.
A hound skittered down the rocks and snapped its jaws around my hock. Despite the feeling of teeth on bone, there wasn’t much pain. Adrenaline shot through me and I bucked, shaking my leg free and hitting the dog in the throat. Stubbornly, even after a yelp it kept snapping at me. I yelled at it as loudly as I could as I tossed rocks at it. The noise did seem to deter it slightly. The second dog joined in, which only reinvigorated the first. When they charged I only had one thing to do.
I leapt into the river, landing chest first into the ice cold water. In this region all rivers were glacial runoff. I gasped as I struggled to keep my head above the surface, but the current swirled wildly beneath the deceptively calm surface. My hooves slipped against the rocks as I tried to control my path down the river, and it was immediately clear that I would not be crossing the river unless it felt like letting me.
The dogs followed me along the shore as I paddled as hard as I could against the churning waters. I could have sworn they were smiling at me as I struggled. A crossbow bolt splashed into the water beside my head, followed by someone screaming orders. I turned to see a line of leather-clad troops take aim from the woods. Once I heard the thump of their crossbows, I ducked beneath the water. I was a few seconds too late and they nearly hit me.
As I tried to surface to take a breath the current caught me in its clutches, holding me down. I held my breath, praying that my pathetic little lungs could hold out long enough. Sadly, I would never know as I smashed into a rock and inhaled. Ice water filled my chest rapidly, causing me to choke and inhale even more. I thrashed wildly as the force of the river toyed with me. I was nothing but a piece of debris.
Why couldn’t I have been this humble earlier? Maybe I would have been dining or counting my silver by now if I had just shut the fuck up.
I clutched at my throat as I experienced what felt like a migraine in my lungs. My heart raced, only using up my oxygen faster and faster. I clutched my eyes waiting for the light of day.
Any second now…
******
Light...I saw light. Was I alive? I heard that when you die you see a bright light. You were also supposed to feel a rush of the best feelings imaginable. Wonderful bliss you could only dream of. You also shit yourself.
I supposed I wasn’t dying, because I was far from comfortable. I was on my side, up to my navel in mud, and the air reeked of fish. When my eyes focused I saw there was an old buck in a straw hat with a mustache who also reeked of fish. He was thumping me on the back over and over. Suddenly, I coughed and water gushed from my mouth.
“That’s it...You’re alright lass, come on…” he encouraged as I spasmed and purged out a deluge of murky water. I shivered as I looked up at him. “Wh-where am I?” I rasped as I looked around, squinting. My eyes still hadn’t readjusted to daylight.
The buck squinted back. “I suppose yer just down the river from where ya’d come,” he said as he pulled a twig out of my mane. “How far you went, I couldn’t tell ya.”
The mud sucked against my side as I pulled myself free and sat up. The world swirled around me as I tilted my head. The current must have shaken me up terribly for me to still be so dizzy. When my eyes focused I found myself on the shoreline of the river, which was dotted with old wooden shacks and docks. The woods glowed with lantern lights, indicating the villages that were nestled within.
“I...I came from Duskport, about three miles east of the gate,” I muttered. “How far did I get carried?”
The buck rubbed the tuft of steel blue fur on his chin. “Hmm...maybe a mile. You’re still in Duskport, but ya had to have gone over the falls if you made it this far, though. You’re a lucky lady making it in one piece.”
“One mile?” I replied, not wanting to count my blessings just yet. “That’s...that’s…”
That’s too close to the city. I may have escaped the dogs and crossed the river, but a mile was far too close. That put four miles between me and the city center. My pursuers would be trying to catch up with me or my presumed corpse, and they’d catch up quickly if I didn’t get a move on. The dogs would be taught to follow my tracks, and after biting my leg they surely knew my scent.
I looked at him closely. Should I tell him I was being pursued? He seemed nice enough. However, my nose wrinkled at his fishy stench as he reached around me and deftly pulled a fish hook from my back. I winced and rubbed the small puncture wound as he looked at me with sad, curious eyes.
“It’s an odd thing to go fishing and end up catching a mare...Most bucks would consign that ta being a dream. How on Equus did you end up floatin’ down the river?”
I wiped some of the muck off of my face, which it seemed caused him some surprise. His eyes were focused on my funny dark nose as my brain worked to come up with a story.
“I was washing some clothes…” I muttered. “It was a nice dress of mine...It got caught in the current and I tried to catch it.”
“Hmm…” he grumbled. “Not smart lass. Still, I’m happy yer okay.”
The stallion reached out and gently lifted my busted leg. I tugged it away with a scowl and stood up on the other three. As I stepped my leg wobbled at the joint.
“Oh my…” he muttered as he shook his head. “That’s not gonna heal itself miss…Especially if you let it dangle like that,” he said sternly.
“I know it’s broken,” I replied. “Thank you for...erm..saving me. But I have to go.”
He looked at me with a critical expression. “Ya know, I thought I heard about a mare with a nose like that. And them weird hooves. You’re not from here are ya?”
“No, I’m not,” I replied sharply. “I’m just a business mare passing through.” What next? I didn’t know what he had to offer me other than questions that might compromise me.
“Must be from down south,” he replied. “We don’t see any of your kind up here. I’ve heard of the funny critters walkin’ and talkin’ down there, but I’d never seen one for myself.” He glanced down at my hooves. “Yer a deer, right? I didn’t expect them to be so small. At first glance I thought you were a filly.”
“A filly…” I huffed quietly but then pretended to wince at my busted leg. “Interesting…” I grumbled. “Anyway, I need to go…”
At this point several eyes around the village were looking over at me as I limped towards them.
The old buck yelled out to me, “Get that leg fixed! Talk ta Patches!”
Patches, huh? How appropriate, I thought.
I slinked past the curious villagers and into the obscurity of the bustling streets. On three legs, walking felt as difficult as running. I didn’t know what I’d be doing at this point. I had no silver and no way to escape on my own. Ponies usually demanded silver for any help, especially in those parts.
As I slipped between some monks, I saw a flash of silky white ahead of me. It was a mare, probably of noble blood, and her husband - maybe. He wore a militaristic uniform. The buttons on his cuffs were brass, not gold, but that was good enough for me. He had a big pocket on his side. I ducked my head down and trotted as quickly as I could.
My eyes widened in concentration as my magic flicked the flap open on his pocket. Just then he let out a corny aristocratic laugh that caused me to retreat a few paces.
“Oh, yes, Darling. Don’t worry about that,” he said to the mare, who I then turned my attention to. She wore a flowing white dress and some jewelry around her neck. Everything she wore was too refined to have been made here, and her accent was foreign as well.
I glanced at the jewelry, but it was too distinct to snatch. I wouldn’t be able to pawn that off safely in this little village. It would be safer to steal gold or silver, so I focused on the stallion.
“But I told mother that we would be staying in a villa...Not this trash heap,” she whined as I popped open the flap on the buck’s pocket.
“We’re just passing through,” he replied snootily as he eyed the villagers. “The minister says there is a fine retreat in the town proper.”
Very quickly I clutched the mass in his pocket with my magic and lifted it out. I turned my flank to them as I trotted away with my catch. I eyed the cluster of goodies. A pocket watch, a short list of names with their respective roles, and as I’d hoped, silver and gold. I didn’t get everything he had, but this would last me long enough to get out of town. Fixing my leg, though. That’d be pricey.
I walked down the street, taking in my surroundings. The narrow street that began as a dock had reached the shore, and opened up into a bustling marketplace. The wooden shops and inns were crafted from the crooked remains of old fishing boats. Jagged windows glowed softly as silhouettes danced on the walls inside.
The scent of fresh bread and steamed potatoes wafted into my snout. Someone knew how to season food. Goddesses, it smelled amazing. My stomach promptly growled. Poor thing. I’d been neglecting it for so long.
The food had to be cheap, I thought as I looked at the decrepit architecture.
I trotted, well, hobbled my way over to the flashiest inn that caught my eye. The Screamin’ Stream. I suppose it commented on the noisiness of the village. Partying on the water and all that. To me the name reminded me of passing a kidney stone.
Upon opening the front door I was shoved in by some eager patrons behind me. Impulsively, my magic gripped the handle of my sword.
“I need a fucking drink..” I sighed.
I pulled down the filthy hood of my cloak and made my way over to the bar. All around me were ponies of large stature. Duskport was known for their warriors, and it seemed they bred them too. Mares and stallions of raw muscle shouted and laughed with an intensity that I knew all too well in these parts. It seemed to me that the very short days and lack of sunlight in Duskport wound everyone up. Everyone was one statement away from a knife in the jugular, and that’s without ale. In the Screamin’ Stream alcohol flowed like water.
The floorboards creaked even under my diminutive weight. I pulled back a wooden stool with my magic as my ears barely poked over the bar table.
“Well, hello there.” I heard a mare say as I climbed up and sat down with a groan. My poor flanks…
Rubbing my tired ass, I glanced at the bartender, a graying pink unicorn with a blue tinted silver mane. She raised an eyebrow, seemingly impatient with my silence.
“Uh, hello,” I muttered as I examined the booze collection behind her. “Just anything to get me shitfaced...Please.”
The mare scowled. “Hun, are you old enough to drink?”
“I’m old enough to need one…” I replied. After her blank stare I sighed. “...But yes..Yes, I’m old enough.”
I pulled out a silver bit and the mare took it, giving me 5 bronze coins in return. She looked at me with slightly more pity than before as she placed a bottle of something on the table. She poured me a shot of some rusty colored stuff that smelled a bit like wood glue and turpentine.
I floated it up to my nostrils which immediately flared. Tears welled up in my eyes and I coughed. “Woah...That’s some strong stuff,” I said as I leaned my good leg on the bar. My bad leg dangled like it was dead.
The mare pointed down to it. “Does that hurt?”
I nodded as I dared to take another sniff.
“It won’t after this.” She placed the bottle back on the shelf. “Also, I gave you a slight discount, so you’re welcome.”
I blinked as I looked at my grim reflection in the liquid. “Thank you...How much is it for a night here?”
“Just give me back the change and you can have a bed. My only rule is that if you fool around with anyone you have to keep it quiet. Some of us need to sleep”
I grinned. “Deal.” I tilted my head back and gulped down the shot of mystery booze. It felt like swallowing a coal without the pain; just a big hot lump making its way to my belly. Then came the tingles which made my mane stand on end. I glanced at the bottle again and she nodded. I could afford another go.
“I’m sorry I thought you were a filly…” the mare said as she poured another shot for me. “It’s better than being confused with an old mare,” she grumbled. “The gray hairs age me.”
My ear flicked as I smiled back at her. “Eh, don’t be hard on yourself. You look your age to me. And even if you didn’t, older mares have a certain appeal...”
Well, my tail was swishing already, and the bartender was blushing. It was time for the next shot.
She looked at me with slight wariness as I gulped down the second. “So, I’m looking for Patches. I heard she could help me get my leg mended.”
In the thirty seconds or so since the first shot, I already felt my body glowing with what would soon become total drunkenness. My leg felt good as new, but I wasn’t dumb enough to believe it. It was still out of commission for sure.
The mare stepped over to tend to the giant, leather clad stallion beside me. As she poured him his ale she kept an ear pointed at me. “Ah, Patches...Sorry to say but she’s not here anymore.”
My heart turned to an icy lump in my chest. “Wait..what?”
“We have a new doctor though. Well...sort of. She just sells medicinal herbs that’re nearly expired, and I know that no plant is gonna fix you.”
Wobbling on the seat, I considered that I may have had too much of that...stuff. “Wha...where’s the nearest actual doctor?”
“Again, that’d be Patches. She’s over in Marshwald. Nasty town. I heard that she went there because there were more ponies to fix, and she’d be right to think so. Still seems like a bad idea to me..”
I clenched my jaw and ran my hoof through my mane. “Fucking hell…”
“I know, right? She’s a sweet mare. I hope she’s been doing okay,” the mare said as she rubbed the bar table nervously.
I sighed. Well, it seemed like getting to a doctor would be more expensive and time consuming than I’d hoped. The bar mare trotted off, leaving me on my own to contemplate the situation. Cheery ponies and mercenaries alike brushed my back as they walked around behind me. They sang and cheered and knocked each other’s teeth out on occasion. Just some ponies keeping each other in good company. It was good entertainment, but being a wanted mare I decided it would be best to just go to bed. At least if I was caught then they might not wake me up for my beheading.
******
The rooms at The Screamin Stream were very small, even for my standards, but after the day I had I was just happy to get some rest. I stripped off my dirty cloak and brought it to the bathroom with me. I gracefully took command of the toilet, which was something I’d grown to appreciate in my travels. The further you got from the cities the more primitive and disgusting life became. I floated my filthy cloak into the sink and turned on the faucets, letting the water rinse off all the grime. Next, I started the shower, letting it warm up as I finished my biological compulsions.
Stepping into the shower and feeling the lukewarm water fall over my back was nearly as relieving as the drunken haze I stumbled around in. I looked down at the brown water running off my legs onto the porcelain. I nearly drowned just hours ago. It never really set in, but then nothing seems to anyway.
I sat down and got to scrubbing myself with the brush as I considered the days ahead of me. I wasn’t sure if Patches was an option anymore. It seemed that I might have had to make a visit back to Eva, the unofficial capital of Equestria.
Ugh. I knew that my mother would probably summon me to her if I got within sight of that place. She never was shy about choosing favorites among her sons and daughters, and she always seemed to find me to be one of the most interesting. No love...just interest.
I ran my cloven hoof through my mane, rubbing the dirt off my scalp.
What was worse was that I’d failed my negotiations with the minister. I’d have to explain that along with my broken leg...and my undernourished body. Only in Equestria are princesses this hopeless.
There was a time when I was a filly that I thought that was wonderful. I am a princess. How magical, and divine! I was going to be somebody. I was protected and educated, then at eighteen I was tossed out of the culture that raised me. It felt like a unique struggle at times, but it really wasn’t. I had dozens of half brothers and sisters out there who suffered similar fates. None of us were properly loved by our mother. We were all just experiments to her. Hundreds of years of boredom really got to her it seemed. She turned to creating her own entertainment.
Fortunately, I at least got to know my father. From what I heard, that was rare in my family. My half siblings knew their mother’s name and not much else. I at least had a family.
Not so much at that moment, though.
I climbed out of the tub and started rubbing my body dry with the scratchy towel. Looking into the mirror I adjusted my messy mane, all while trying to ignore how worn out I looked. Dark bags hung under my eyes, which themselves were pink and bloodshot. Sighing, I shut my eyes and looked away from myself. After all I’d been through, the last thing I should do is dwell on it.
Laying in bed I thought to myself about that pink mare at the bar instead. She was a bit older than me, but I liked her. Maybe I could get some one on one time with her someday. If I packed on a few pounds...In my experience, mares don’t like the stick figure...figure.
I rolled onto my side, listening to the muffled voices below. It always helped me fall asleep. Made me feel less alone. Just a bit.
******
I woke up the next morning to a much quieter scene at The Screamin Stream. I thanked the goddesses for that because my hangover was still in full swing. After groggily throwing on my cloak and scabbard, I trotted downstairs to claim the breakfast that came with my room. Oatmeal. Nothing fancy, but it rarely disappoints. I do think sometimes that if I were a food, that’s what I’d be.
As I shoveled food into my mouth I felt the thud of someone sitting down across from me. With my cheeks full, I peered up from under my hood, only to see the two bright hazel eyes across from me. It was the bartender mare from last night. She wore a sour expression on her face that sent a tingle down my spine.
“Uh...can I help y-”
“Get out,” she whispered harshly. “Take the bowl with you. I don’t care. Just go.”
I looked over my shoulders instinctively. “Do youind explaining why?” I asked. “Also, what’s your name anyway? I kinda-”
“Maple!” she snapped before raising her hooves. “You..You’re Maple” she whispered, pointing at me. “The watch is after you. I won’t have you get caught on my property. Leave. Now.”
I bit my lip as my heart sank. “I understand. I’ll leave now,” I said, lifting my bowl with my magic. My foreleg wobbled under my weight as I climbed down from the chair.
The mare walked up to me and extended a hoof with two silver coins. “Take this, okay? But promise me you’ll get out of here as soon as possible.”
I frowned at the coins, but she shook the hoof impatiently. I gingerly stowed the coins in my saddlebags and looked up to her. “Why?”
“I know who you are, Maple. I didn’t realize who you were last night until I saw the bounty posters around town.”
I gulped. A bounty already? This would complicate things for sure.
“You’re a good mare. I know you’ve done a lot of good for-”
“Yeah, thanks,” I replied quickly as I sloppily chugged the oatmeal. The mare cringed as I downed the whole thing in seconds. I’m a classy mare.
“Wait…” she said as she rummaged through her saddlebag. With her teeth she pulled out a small glass bottle of the ‘beverage’ I had the night before. “This is to deal with the pain,” she said as she pointed to my leg. “It’s a good disinfectant too, in case you ever get cut. Just be safe, and take care of yourself.”
“Oh. Well, thank you, “ I said as I took a sip from it before stowing it away. Goddesses, it was strong stuff. “Stay safe...uhh...Sorry I never caught your name.”
“My name is Razz…” she said as she fiddled with her mane. It seemed as if she was blushing ever so slightly. “I hope you find some way to come back here. Maybe we could share a pint.”
I returned the most reassuring smile I could. “If I come back I’ll keep an eye out, Razz.”
I turned my back on the mare and stepped out into hostile territory.
******
The rain that started that night had continued into the morning. While I was once again soaked to the bone, this did help me become less conspicuous among the throngs of hooded ponies around me. I had to hide my sword under my cloak, which left only the tip of the scabbard visible by my hock. As I usually did in unfriendly territory, I had my cowl pulled up over my snout to hide my black nose. The boots, of course, covered my non-equine hooves. My stature definitely didn’t help me blend in, but I could at least hide within the crowds. To most I would look like a filthy filly. All of us were so stained with muck. I missed that mediocre shower...Cuddling up with Razz would have been nice.
Instead, my body shivered in the cold northern air. As I hobbled along my eye caught a flyer nailed to a lightpost. The second I saw my face on it I tore it down and crumpled it up. Slowly, I shifted over into the corner of a building and took a look at it.
I’ve had bounties before, but I’d never seen the actual illustrations of myself. It looked quite accurate. They really made my eyes look nice, though. Weird.
Below was the note...
Wanted Hybrid
Name~ Maple
Sex~ Female
~Charges~
High treason against Duskport, petty theft, obstruction of justice, and resisting arrest
~Description~
3’ tall, slender frame, short mane and tail, dark purple coat, blond mane, blue eyes, cloven hooves, black nose, and unicorn horn
~Terms~
50 gold Reward
Wanted dead or alive. Her head is ample evidence.
Bring proof of completion to the Duskport Watchtower.
Ah. Well, that’s bad.
I tried not to make a big scene of putting the flyer away, my shaking hooves really wanted to shred it into hundreds of pieces. My eyes panned around, seeing flyers on every corner. If I stayed here it’d be no time before I was found out. I tugged the hood forward a bit to hide more of my face.
I trotted by crooked wooden porches. Under the shelter of the beaten tile roof, ponies stayed out of the rain playing poker as their swords and crossbows rested on the posts. When they turned their heads to me I looked away.
Just beyond a block of ragged houses I saw the telltale plume of steam. The first train of the day was getting ready to leave. There is only one railway in Equestra, and it was commonly known that rides were few and far between. There could have been a second train that day, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances.
I hobbled my way to an intersection that sat on the edge of the town, with a dense forest just across the street. Just before the towering tree trunks was a bronze mechanical monstrosity. Its single headlamp shone deep into the wilderness ahead. As I stepped up to it I peeked down the tracks, which were only visible for a few hundred feet before vanishing into tall grass. The right of way was very narrow, with trees only a pony’s length away from the rails.
The North never seemed to bother maintaining anything other than their castles and their weapons. I turned my attention to the station itself, which had clearly seen better days. Grass poked between the cobblestones of the platform, and the clock had stopped working long ago. A collection of ponies stood at the other end of the platform by the station house, waiting for their tickets.
As I limped down the platform a couple engineers got to work oiling the massive metal behemoth. I read in many books that the rail network was the wonder of Equestria. It was the backbone of the war machine for hundreds of years. But as I saw them, they were shadows of their former glorious selves. I peered up at the boiler and saw holes where rivets should have been, and all that remained of the paint was the occasional blue stain.
By the station house there was a map of what remained of the great Equestrian railway. The northern area of the map was nearly faded beyond recognition, but had been re-traced by an obvious amateur. The railway led south from Duskport through the forest and then through the flatlands, a border territory between the northern and southern provinces. Marshwald was marked somewhere a dozen or so miles from the tracks. The train wasn’t supposed to stop in that area, and even if it did I’d have to slog through miles of mud to get to the nearest town.
Far down the line was my destination, Eva. It lay in a wide basin on the east coast of the continent. Unlike the other cities on the line, this one had a cute illustration of the city skyline. Being the tallest city in Equestria, I supposed it made sense that they chose the side profile as opposed to a top down view.
I sighed as I considered my resentment towards that place. Sure I could find a competent healer, but I’d have to deal with my mother. She always liked staying up to date. If she’s in the mood she’d tell me about yet another sibling of mine. She could even be pregnant again. That was always fun.
I opened up my saddlebag and took stock of my bits as I walked up to the end of the queue at the ticket booth. I peered around the flank of the buck in front of me to see the price board. The cost would be about half of what I had to get to Eva. Thanks to Razz I could make it there and still have enough for a few days worth of food.
My optimism shriveled as my eyes caught the glint of polished armor in my peripheral.
I darted my head to the side only to see that the engineers were dumping the firebox, and I had only seen the glow of the coals. I closed my eyes and placed my hoof over my chest. My heart was already racing, and thumping in my ears. My lip trembled as I took several deep breaths. A whimper escaped from me but I held it in as if it were vomit. Fear wasn’t an option.
After taking that moment to collect myself I opened my eyes and noticed that the line moved a bit. I took my place and began preparing myself for the exchange. Eventually it was my turn and I found myself peering up at the counter and the buck behind it.
“One ticket to Eva,” I said in my best attempt at the region’s accent. My horn glowed ever so faintly as it raised the pitch of my voice to that of a filly’s. In the light of day the glow of my horn went unnoticed as the buck hardly looked at me for more than a few seconds.
“You seem a bit young to be travelling alone…” he said as he slipped me a ticket.
I scoffed and snatched the ticket off the counter. “Whatever...I can handle myself,” I said as I flicked my ear in annoyance. “I’ve been more places than you, ticket boy.”
“On that leg?” he retorted. “Sure thing, little one.”
“I’ve got friends all over Equestria who help me. Can you say the same?” I sneered.
“Shut it and go…” he grumbled. “Just get that muck off. ‘Seems that your folks never taught you to be a lady. ”
I scrunched my snout and turned away, flicking my tail as immature angry fillies do. I’d be lying if I said I never enjoyed playing that role. It took a couple years for me to hide my smile.
*****
Boarding the train was no less stressful than exiting the town. Being so confined to one space with ponies I did not choose to be around is not ideal for me. What’s worse than not getting a choice of my company is said company being made up entirely of strangers. As I limped down the aisle I tried to get a reading on the ponies. In the car I was walking through it was mostly peasants, draped in ragged cloth. All of them in need of gold, and many with little to lose. Just more incentive for them to make a move. I could easily fend them off in a fight, but it would only be a matter of time before I would need sleep. I’d be most vulnerable then. They could sneak in and cut my throat, or hold me down and do as they willed. I liked to imagine that ponies were better than that.
An old mare made eye contact with me as I hobbled past her. With a blank expression on her face she nudged what I presumed to be her son, who only glanced at me before averting his eyes.
With my back to them, I clutched my sword in my magic as I opened the door to the next car. As I passed through the vestibule I heard the locomotive’s whistle blasting its baleful tone. It sounded to me as if it was sad to be leaving the town. I certainly wasn’t.
The train lurched forward, forcing me to catch my balance by leaning against the wall, bumping my bad leg. The pain was enough for me to grit my teeth. I couldn’t yelp, at least not there. Maybe in my room I could go cry about it. A tear ran down my cheek as I examined my leg. It looked somewhat normal apart from the knee which had swollen quite a bit. There was a bruised ridge just below it where the snapped bone pushed against the flesh. Weirdly, the pain wasn’t too bad if I didn’t move the leg much.
I wearily looked down the aisle at all the closed doors to the sleeping quarters. There was no one to be seen. There was a small space in the center of the car where one could read or have their lunch at the old wooden tables. As a wanted mare, however, I’d be cooped up in my sleeping quarters.
I walked up to the door to my room and slipped my ticket into the little slot on the door. It then fell down into a little glass display where it could be seen by the ticket collectors. Thank the goddesses for that. The less interaction with strangers the better.
Inside my space was a single bed, a gas lamp hanging from the ceiling, and a tiny desk with an old chair. Just outside the window I saw the trees pass very closely. The railway could have used some pruning. I shut the door behind me and popped open my saddlebag. I pulled out the bottle of Razz’s concoction and took a gulp. If last night was anything to go by, I wouldn’t have to worry about leg pain for a few hours. With my throat still burning, I popped the cork back in and put it away in my saddlebags, which I hung on the bedpost.
I sat down on the edge of the mattress and took a moment to mourn the loss of my books in the chase outside Duskport. I was going to be stuck on board that machine for three days. It would have been nice to finish Starwing’s dissertation on earth pony and unicorn relations. The first five hundred pages were all about the war effort and the failure of both sides to stick to their truces. Invasions driven by vengeance only inspired more vengeance. If you fight fire with fire, everyone burns.
Resentment for other races seemed to be a common thing even among the most educated ponies. Unicorns and Pegasi only recently started to forget their violent past, but I choose not to. If I was to persuade ponies not to fight, I needed to know their motivations. Tribalism was a part of us that seemed to refuse to die, and as a result I knew it all too well.
As a half deer offspring of a certain hated queen, I’ve dealt my fair share of hatred. A ‘demon’ I’ve been called, by nobles, peasants, and savages. I was a demon to be hated for the actions of her mother, and the blood in her veins. Some have tried to capture me for ransom, but failed. I’m unsure how much they’d actually get for me. My mother wasn’t known to negotiate with kidnappers, but they still tried.
On that thought I turned my gaze to the door. Shadows of passengers could be seen through the gap at the bottom. Their chatter was too muffled to decipher. With my eyes on the doorknob I brought my sword and scabbard to me. I sat upright with my back to the corner, waiting and listening. I heard what sounded like an old mare...possibly the one from coach?
I gripped the handle of my blade and withdrew it from the sheath part way, revealing the blue tint of the metal and the fine engravings on its side. The weapon was a gift from my father many years ago. He probably hoped that I would be a more competent swordsmare by that point, but alas, I’d spent more time talking ponies out of battles than partaking in them.
I only stood a chance if I was ready the moment someone burst through the door. I thought to myself that if someone was to make an attempt it would have been sooner rather than later. The longer they waited, the further we’d be from Duskport. They’d attack me in the night most likely, and I’d be ready to stab them the second they entered my room. Unless they knew this...They could tire me out over night and break in in the morning, rape me, then cut my head off.
I withdrew the blade completely and laid it by my side, with the point towards the door. With a single thought I could go for a stab. I’d just have to be awake for it.
The minutes ticked by, turning into hours. The door remained still, save for the rocking with the train. As it got darker it got quieter, with less and less passenger activity. Most had gone to bed. The car was only lit by the moon, which panned its beam of light across the room as the train took wide turns through the wilderness. I sat in my sweat stains, pricking my ears at even the slightest sound of activity.
My peripherals seemed to be a blur as I stared at the dark rectangle that was the door. My eyelids were starting to feel heavy as the sun began to rise again.
Just concentrate, Maple. You need to stay awake just a while longer…
My stomach growled as I heard the clink of plates and silverware outside. I also had the unbearable need to urinate. Maybe I could go out for only a minute? No. Just wait until the car is quiet again...Just a few minutes more…
******
“Oh. Look who’s finally up,” I heard as I stepped down the stairs. My father waited in the dining room with a cup of tea and an array of scrolls at his cloven hooves. “I thought you’d sleep away your big day.”
I rubbed my tired eyes as I approached the pantry. Our kitchen was much like the rest of the house. Everything was made from wood and sculpted into elegant organic forms. It was a hallmark of deer craftwork. “Good afternoon,” I said tiredly. “I was up all night, still having a hard time learning maculine and feminine nouns.”
“Ah, yes. The griffons are a strange bunch. The sun masculine, the moon feminine. It seems there is a god and goddess for everything.”
“Mhm,” I murmured as I plucked an apple from the basket. My appetite was absent for days, but I needed something to keep me going.
My father set down his glasses and stacked the scrolls at the side of the table. “Hun, I’d like to talk with you a moment, and have your full attention.”
I turned to him with the apple in hoof, before setting it back. “I...I was hoping you’d just let this slide. Can’t we pretend everything is normal?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” he replied. “This is a significant day for anyone, even if you aren’t a legal member of the commune anymore.”
“As if being a legal member ever made a difference,” I replied coldly.
“Our people are very isolationist,” he agreed. “We should consider ourselves blessed that they allowed you to be raised here at all. Their teachings will be a powerful tool for you.”
I sighed as I looked to the ground. My stoic demeanor was beginning to crumble already. “I feel like my life is over...What is there for me in Equestria?”
“What is there for you here?” he asked as he looked at me with his soft expressive eyes. “Please, honey, take a seat.”
I walked over and did as he said. It felt as final as it was. The last time I’d sit at the kitchen table with my father. A place we’d spent almost every morning and evening of our lives, discussing our plans for the next day or week. I had no such plans anymore.
“It pains me that this is the way things are. All those years ago, when your mother gave you to me, I knew that you couldn’t stay forever. I knew that it would end in heartbreak.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I tried to imagine it all away.
“But I knew you were my daughter. I knew I would do anything to give you a better life,” he said with a hitch in his voice. “It happened so fast... You’re an adult now. A smart one. I believe in you.”
He reached across the table and grabbed my hoof in his. “You’re going to do great things, Maple. You’ll make friends, and find love. You’ll have everything you couldn’t get here, because I know you’re clever enough to find it elsewhere.”
As I sobbed he stroked my cheek. I looked back at him and saw tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look sad.
“I have something for you,” he said as his horns lit up.
In the pale white glow of his magic, a sword and scabbard rose from behind the table. Carefully he set it down between us.
My eyes opened wide. “But...This was your grandfather’s sword.”
“And I’m carrying on his tradition,” my father replied. “I’m passing it on to you, and you to your children.”
“This belongs here, in Cervidas,” I said softly. “I can’t take this to Equestria. I may never return home. A-and what if I can’t have children?”
“I don’t have anyone else to pass it on to,” he said. “Even if you are the last of our family to carry this, I want you to have it.”
I peered down at the sword. I’d only seen it a few times in my life. Once, I had gotten my hooves on it as a filly, planning to play with it. But I didn’t get further than simply looking at the engravings before I had to hide it from my father.
There I was staring at it again, as an eighteen year old mare. The scabbard was a deep red leather, most likely manticore skin. The steel trim was simple but elegant. I grabbed the sword by the black, glossy handle and unsheathed it.
The blade itself was longer than my leg. It had a single edge and resembled a long knife, unlike the double edged Equestrian swords. The cool blue metal glinted in the warm sunlight, its engravings twinkling like magic. I sniffled as I floated it to my hooves and felt its weight. It wasn’t as heavy as I remembered. I also never noticed the extremely fine layers in the metal.
“It was forged from meteorite. One of the last to land here before the disappearance of the princesses all those centuries ago. To myself and many others it’s a symbol of a more peaceful time.”
“I’d have to agree…” I said as I set it down and wiped my tears. “Thank you, father.”
He stepped down and came up to my side, where I practically melted into his embrace. My body shook as I hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder.
“I don’t want to go…” I whimpered as I buried my face in his fur. “There has to be something you can do…”
He let silence be his answer as he gently stroked my mane. I broke into another fit as he held me through it. “It will be okay…” he said to me again and again.
I hugged him for so long. I never wanted to let go. All I could hear was the thump of his heart beat against my head.
I clenched my eyes, blocking out more light as the thumping grew louder and louder. The thumping turned to bangs that rang in my ears. I released him in shock and opened my eyes, only to see nothing but darkness. The bang became an explosion that knocked me backwards into oblivion.
******
My eyes shot wide open into my dark sleeping quarters. My sword was already hovered at attention. A reflex honed through years of healthy paranoia.
At the end of the room the door shuddered as it was bashed from the other side. The wood was already beginning to splinter around the lock. I scrambled backwards, twisting my broken leg in a panic. Adrenaline blocked out the pain, which saved me, as my concentration was all I had once that door finally burst open.
Daylight flooded my room, which blinded me to any fine details, but the blurry silhouette was a good enough target. As the figure charged into the room I jabbed my sword toward their neck as I readied my rear hooves for a kick. The figure cursed with the voice of a mare and narrowly avoided the lunge, only for it to slice deep into her shoulder as I retracted the blade. Spurting blood, the mare charged into my room and swung at me with a dagger gripped in her magic. I was able to deflect the blade with a kick, but soon the larger stronger mare was atop me. Her hot blood spattered my chest as I punched her with my good leg. Using her superior weight she rolled the two of us to the floor, partly tangling us in the bedsheets, which were now soaked with the piss I was desperately holding in the night before.
“You fucking little cunt!” the mare shouted as she grabbed me by the mane. As we wrestled on the floor a crossbow bolt landed inches from my face.
“Hold her steady!” a buck shouted from the hall. I barely caught a glimpse of him before the mare tried rolling me on top of her. Realizing it would get me shot, I went with the roll, smashing us up against the wall, where I could use her body as a shield. As the buck took aim I floated up the sheets between us, blocking me from his view.
The mare tried to hold me still as she positioned the dagger above us. I fought too hard for her, and one of her jabs missed me, cutting a gash in her hide. “Little shit!” she screamed. In a burst of strength she tossed me over her against the side of the bed, winding me and knocking out my concentration, causing the bedsheet barrier to fall. Before her partner could get a shot off, she was atop me again. She wrapped her leg around my neck and squeezed, crushing my windpipe. In my blurry vision I saw her dagger line up with my throat.
The dagger dropped and the mare let out a gasp as my sword slashed through her back. The soon to be dead mare passed out, dropping back into a pool of blood. Choking for air, I scrambled for cover beside the bed. The stallion rounded the foot of the bed and took aim with his crossbow, firing a bolt that seemed to pass inches from my head. It seemed he was armed with an autoloader because the bow fired off a second shot immediately, which glanced off my blade before I plunged it into him.
He stepped back on shaky legs as the crossbow dropped to the floor with a clatter. He looked down at the hilt sticking from his chest, but never looked up again. He collapsed in a heap by the door, his leg twitching in the light. Two ponies, dead.
I yanked the blade from his chest and hovered it close to me as I stood in the dim light of my room, choking as I caught my breath. My entire body trembled as I stared at the door, waiting for the next intruder to come in any second. I positioned my blade again, ready to stab another. Ready to take another life.
After what felt like a minute I stepped lightly towards the doorway. I peered to the right at the vestibule. Then I peered to the left. Several ponies were staring from their doorways, ready to retreat back into their rooms. Some shut their doors at the sight of my bloodied weapon.
For a moment I just stared back at them with my ears twitching.
“Apologies,” I said quietly before stepping back into my room. I shut the door part way so I had some light. Since my eyes had adjusted, I got a good look at my attackers as I searched through their saddlebags.
The mare was somewhat young. White coat, brownish mane. She had that Duskport look to her. Strong facial features, longer snout. In her saddlebags I found ten silver pieces and a bronze compass, which I took.
The stallion was even younger around my age, and he looked a lot like the mare did. Maybe they were siblings. I looked through his bags only a second before a swell of nausea came over me.
I dropped the flap on his bag and stepped away, closing my eyes. I took a few deep breaths before I wretched. Nothing came up, but my body tried its hardest. Come on, Maple. You can do this
I sighed and quickly knelt down beside him, where I scooped up everything from his bag. I was taking too long. The bodies would have to go. A fight could be explained away, but corpses would certainly get me detained.
I shut the door to my room and opened the window to the outside. Ice cold air blew in from the wilderness and rustled my fur. I turned to the mare first and began stripping her of her clothing. I felt the urge to vomit again as I dragged her towards the window. She was so much heavier than me, but I managed to lift her front half over the sill. I closed my eyes and gave her a simple shove, sending the rest of her out into the light of day. I then used her clothing to wipe up the blood,and promptly tossed it out the window. I then repeated the process with the stallion. The last step was removing the crossbow bolts from the floorboards. Within a few minutes the room looked relatively clean.
As I looked down at the floor for any signs of blood I noticed the bloodstains on my chest, so I grabbed my coat and threw it on over my sword and scabbard. It would be best to look presentable for the time being. I shut the door behind me and marched into the hall, not making eye contact with any of the ponies. Sleeping car passengers tended to be upper class, and likely never saw any violence beyond a pat on the back. Most shut their doors and locked them once I got too close for comfort. I wondered if they knew I killed anyone.
After what felt like much too long, I got to the door at the end of the hall and opened the door to the vestibule.
******
I’ve always tried to be a good mare. The world is a complicated place. It’s much like a puzzle, and we’re all trying to find where we belong. I know that sometimes we have to be someone else to fit our role. To do the good that our souls desire, we must perform with the callousness that our roles demand.
Hot water poured over my shoulders. By the time it reached the floor of the shower it was stained a reddish brown. The shock had worn off a few minutes ago. The feeling that took its place, I couldn’t quite understand. I knew that I wasn’t hungry anymore, so I substituted Razz’s liquor for lunch.
After twisting my leg in the fight my knee had swollen even more. The pain had become unbearable after the adrenaline ran its course. The alcohol was strong, but not quite strong enough. Not strong enough for my leg. Not strong enough for a lot of things. I couldn’t cry. That’s not what I was supposed to do. I had to be strong. Overcoming hardship for the sake of others had been my life for the past decade, and killing two bounty hunters shouldn’t phase me.
I sighed and stepped out of the small shower and and dried myself off. After months of travel on dirt roads with no bathrooms, traveling by train felt like a dream. It was a shame that all the technology was so neglected since the Long War. Equestria simply didn’t have the means to manufacture such things anymore. I read that we once had a network that allowed ponies to communicate over long distances using electricity, but it was destroyed and never rebuilt. I could only imagine what that could have done for diplomacy in current times. As it was now, the train was the fastest method of transferring information.
After musing about the past, I put my gear back on and pulled my veil up over my snout. Bounty hunters may have been able to recognize me, but at least I wouldn’t have to explain my mixed species to the common folk. Thoroughly buzzed but overwhelmingly miserable;I felt it was time to finally get some food in me.
After impersonating a rude filly once again, I managed to procure myself a baked potato and some whole grain bread. Despite all that had happened that day, at least I was alive. My knee was a bit worse, but soon I’d have it healed. I spent the rest of the day watching the world pass by the window. We were on the edge of what was considered the north. Pine trees were becoming less and less common, and were more often than not replaced with bushes and fields of peat moss. Before too long we would be entering the marshlands. We were currently in the tundra, just north of it, where hardly anyone lived. It was too cold, too stormy, and there simply wasn’t enough good soil for planting crops. Any soil that was good was rendered useless by the constant hailstorms that ravaged plant life.
Just above the eastern horizon was a storm front rolling in from the ocean. Not much was known about what this region was like before the loss of the princesses. It was supposedly just a small village with a few farms, but it was now known for being a magical dead zone. There, unicorn magic was hardly functional, earth ponies would lose their inherent strength, and pegasi struggled to get off the ground. The land itself was pockmarked with rocky craters and littered with the husks of old war machines. Across this open, flat expanse, I could see the flash of the lighthouse in the distance. It was the only relic of the battle to remain unravaged by time. The keeper of the lighthouse was supposedly the first to fire upon the zebra enemy, but it was only a legend. Now, the land that we traded all those lives for was a mere shadow of its former self. All that death, so we could have an empty plain where no one would live. No magic...no life.
Despite my thorough research of Equestrian history, I had yet to find an explanation for the magic-draining phenomenon. It has long been a myth that dead zones correlate with the sites of gruesome battles many years ago, and that the blood that was spilled had tainted the soil of Equus. However, I was doubtful. At some point, all of the country was a warzone, and yet it is not a giant dead-zone. Tens of thousands had died where Duskport was built, and it is no different than lands untouched by war. It always seemed as though our history books raised more questions than they answered..
A few hours passed as I lay back in the seat watching the plains go by. As day turned to dusk, the war ravaged landscape was starting to revert back into the Equestria we all knew. Trees, clear skies, agriculture. I shut my eyes for a moment and sighed before getting back onto my hooves.
Upon returning to my room, the faint scent of blood was still in the air. Opening the window just a crack allowed for enough fresh air. I could deal with the draft by tossing my clothes over the blankets for some extra insulation. The door, which now had a busted deadbolt; I blocked that from being opened by plunging the stallion's dagger into the floorboards. Once again I had my father’s sword at my side, but I wouldn’t be staying up for the rest of the night this time. Exhaustion ravaged me. My broken leg felt oddly numb which was both comforting and terrifying. I could hardly think as I lay under the covers hugging my shivering body. I was trying my best to remember my room as a filly. It was warm...safe...I had nothing to fear. How things changed.
Someday, when I’d done my fair share of good, I planned on retiring. Where to? I couldn’t care less. I was done with trying to live. My plan was to exist. I wanted the right to turn my back to the world. It never did anything for me.
If I just did enough good, I could earn that escape…
