Boundary Point

"The Phoenix's only natural predator is the aggressive Unneb. This large bird's thick black plumage and dark blue comb and wattles along with it's strong, thick skinned legs allow it to pin and endure it's prays flames long enough to drain the life out of the Phoenix."

~KD's Observers book 'Animals of Equus' for children ages 5 to 12

Twilight’s head hung low as she found the dark and dank alley way she and Xavier argued at. Rolling her eyes, she took a left and let the thread of memories in her head lead her back to the Inn. Her side still throbbed from the kick, her rump still sore from the fall, but worse yet, when she caught her wits about her, she ran back only to find the two humans had gone. Twilight’s withers fluttered as the wind pushed back against her rear and plopped her into the tan and brown inn.

The tavern was loud with the sound of conversation to the right, while the innkeeper was talking to two Griffins. He eyed her as she walked past him and onto the wooden stairs. The floor creaked as she passed a Pegasus trying to balance a cake on her back, trudging down the stairs. Arriving on the second floor, she saw rooms 100, 101, 102…

1. Pushing the door open, a squat, flat room greeted her. A bed immediately to her left and a sitting area deeper in the interior. The curtains fluttered with soft blue wisp like motion, and the scent of oak softy pushed past her. She snorted as she saw a tiny box with linen in it next to the large, circular herd bed. Letting out an exhale, she walked past the sleeping accommodation and looked out the window. The bright white of Luna’s waning gibbous shone through the window as Twilight kneeled. She shook twice, and her saddlebag released its pressure, allowing her to back out and leave her saddlebag on the floor. A small clock slowly churned in the corner, pointing at 10:30.

Turning, she saw dirt encrusted onto the bag where she landed after bucking the adolescent human off. Pulling her new book out, she walked to the desk and sat on the study stool, reading as the world of the Six Circlets whisked her away.

Then she shook her head as a soft pain gripped both her eyes. The ache on her side faded, her rump fresh. Turning, Luna’s moon had changed position, its bright light no longer shining through the window, letting her read. She looked behind her and realized that Xavier still had not made his way back yet from wherever he scurried off to. Letting out an exhale and rolling her eyes, she left the book on the desk and made her way past the second bed, into the hall and down the stairs when a familiar voice pinched her left ear, coming out of the tavern.

“I move 3 of the wraps in the storage to the bazaar,” the voice said.

Twilight walked to the tavern’s opening, looked over and saw the voice had come from the pub. The loud conversation and drunken songs of mares and stallions rang out as she approached the room lit by chandlers and a great hearth. The odor of alcohol was thick in the air. Two Earth Mares, an ivy green one and a deep red one past the hearth were playing a game of Plough, both of them facing opposite directions while attached by a rope with chest harnesses at either end.

“COME ON CHERRY!” cried one onlooker. “I GOT BITS RIDING ON THIS!”

Arduous grunts bellowed from them both as their rear gluteal muscles bulged, pulling against each other. The clopping sound of the wooden floor echoed as both mares adjusted their hooves slightly.

“YOU’VE GOT THIS SPRING!” a light brown Griffin screamed in the back.

The red one bellowed in pain as the green one started creeping forward when the sound of a snap popped through the pub. The rope split apart, one end crashing into the table, taking one of its legs clean off, as the other slammed against the metal ring of a barrel, ringing out as both mares stumbled forward, with a stallion crying out “Fae’s game!”

A sound of disappointment emanated from the crowd as the green competitor cried “Shit!”, bucking a stool into the wall, slamming against a few metal chains and shattering it.

“Hey!” cried one of the wench stallions. “You gotta problem with the furniture? Leave! They might be made from trees, but they don’t grow on ‘em!”

Turning from the spectacle, Twilight finally found Xavier sitting in front of an elderly unicorn mare. Her mane thinning and her tail shimmering gray. They sat next to the wooden wall against the orange light of a small candle illuminating the two. Between them were two decorative mats, several small figurines, several bowls, and three decks of cards.

“Right, that’s the end of your turn,” the old unicorn said, giving a smirk. “And with that, the season’s turn, let’s see how we fare.”

She magically lifted the first card of the deck and looked at it, “Winter comes earlier than expected, everyone removes two food sources and three piles of wood.”

She and Xavier started moving tokens from the board and off to the side into small bowls. Xavier’s wrapped hands deftly grabbing many tokens and dumping them while the Unicorn elegantly moved them one piece at a time.

“Next,” she lifted the next card and looked at it. “The capital calls for reinforcements.”

“Right,” Xavier said. “I’ll pay the tax instead,” he lifted 7 wooden coins and put it into another one of the various bowls.

“Hmmm,” the unicorn mumbled. “I’ll two for one,” she said as she lifted four of the figurines on either side of her center and moved them to the side. Then she moved a card she had on her side of the table off towards the part of the table nearest the wall with a deck Twilight hadn’t caught the first time and a discard pile sitting next to it.

“You sure about that?” Xavier said, raising an eyebrow past the rim of his glasses.

“I know what I’m doing,” the elderly unicorn said, taking a pause to leer at Xavier with a smile. “The real question is… if purchasing an exemption from the draft is worth the coins in your treasury.”

“Those two could rebel against you…” Xavier snorted, taking a swig from a wooden mug next to him as the small flame that lit the table up danced across his lenses.

“True, but then again, it looks like you’re about to face some financial hardship yourself,” the mare nodded, motioning to Xavier’s pile of wooden coins. She then magically lifted another card from the deck, glanced at it and said, “Winter is such a painful time for everyone… especially when,” the mare laid the card in front of Xavier, “both of us are facing an ice storm. Count your community, divide by 2, 3, or 5, whichever results in the largest whole number…” And the unicorn leaned forward ever so slightly towards Xavier, “and pay the repair mares for the ice damage.”

Xavier quickly counted his side of the field and bit the corner of his lower lip, “… Shit.”

“Hmmm?”

“Not enough in my treasury,” Xavier placed a hand on his forehead.

“Well, I could help you out,” the unicorn leaned back and smirked at her opponent. “But it will cost you…”

“So that’s why you sent some of them off,” Xavier mumbled.

“Of course, while they may be put in harm’s way, the capital city of any nation won’t want its army dying at the first sign of frost. Of course in a year and half’s time, when they return, they may be more rowdy and stir up disharmony. But for now my repair costs are minimized and I’m willing to bet that my once meager food stores will now last the winter,” the unicorn snickered.

Xavier glanced over at the deck and discard pile. He narrowed his eyes, then they popped open like two confetti shooters and blurted out, “You know the distribution!”

“Oh? What distribution…” his opponent said, looking away from Xavier and towards the wall.

“You’ve played this game so much that, whether you are actively or passively memorizing, as the deck slowly loses cards, you know for certain what’s going to happen. Maybe in the early game when costs and punishments are low you can get away with variations in gameplay, but by seeing what’s been played, you know how the game will eventually converge…”

“Are you implying order arises from chaos?” the mare smirked and lifted an eye. “And I’m abusing that knowledge to trounce you?”

“Not at all. The order is already there, initially covered up by the chaos of the shuffling of the deck and a few dice rolls,” Xavier leaned back. “But as you proceed down the space of possibilities, the illusionary chaos fades and if you’ve played long enough, you can see how the game is going to pan out earlier and earlier…”

“Very good!” the mare lightly alternated her hooves on the table, making a light clippity cloppity sound. “Very, very good! And it only took you four games to catch on!”

“That would imply…” Xavier looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Two sufficiently strong players can, at some point, see and agree on the future of the game that’s being played. How many turns does it take for professional level players to attempt to negotiate a draw or resign?”

“Between two professional players? 20 turns, give or take three. Of course, the more players, the less obvious the future is, but…” the mare smiled. “I have to admit, I thought I was going to be dragging my hooves the entire evening having to teach you. But you’ve been quite the surprise, you catch on quick.”

“Speaking as a professional to a novice, what future do you see?” Xavier squinted his eyes, but kept smiling.

“Hmmm,” the old mare mumbled, leaning over the table and looking at what was in play. “You tried to focus on your treasury to allow you flexibility, but it’s not uncommon for the game to reach a point where money does you little good. Also, the cost of converting bits to goods is going to eat you up. In addition, you grew your communities too quickly. It drained your food stores. You could try surviving the winter and pressing your community hard to prepare for next winter, then eject ponies from the community during the fall. But your reputation score would plummet. There is no harmony, there is no balance,” the unicorn said, staring at Xavier’s side of the field.

“And soon my strategy will fail,” Xavier interrupted, looking at the board. “The flaws in the system I made will become severe. My constructed order will collapse. Order gives way to randomness in my community and subcommunities.” Xavier looked up at the unicorn across from him, “Speaking thematically, survival is now unlikely for individuals and groups in my community. Restabilization might occur if the game persists beyond our agreed endpoint, but even after the destructive elements have passed, survival for both individuals and groups will partly be determined by future chance events. But since the deck converges to an end state…”

“Which is why professionals will just agree to how the game will end and start anew,” the unicorn nodded. “Also, don’t knock yourself down, constructing order this early in play, despite your overreliance on your bank, are, while not a sign of expert play, are definitely indicators of adept play.”

“As a representation of a community, I assume at this point, ponies would venture to other communities or they would send aid?” Xavier asked.

“Correct,” the old mare said. “Bad winters happen and communities break apart, but of course, no community of ponies is going to let others suffer like that. Also, your overreliance on the treasury will get you nowhere, the real currency…” the old mare held up one of the cards on her side of the field, “are the favors you accrue. If we had four players, you would have been forced to work with them. And in that situation, you might have been able to negotiate a discount to repair the damage wrought by the ice storm if they had specialized repair ponies. But alas…”

“I see… so as far as our two player game is concerned,” Xavier bent over the board. “At first, the game tests your ability to construct stable systems, followed by memorization and pattern recognition and finally, once you have mastered those two, your game feel and intuition…”

“I think you’re simplifying a little too much,” the mare said, nodding. “You also have to have some kind of negotiation skill throughout the entire game. Not once did you attempt to negotiate anything with me, no trade deals, nothing. Don’t think I wouldn’t have been receptive, despite me being in direct opposition to you. And in some cases where the end is clear to you, but not completely to them, you can still get away with a draw, or a victory in very rare circumstances if you can somehow convince them that the game will eventually be a loss on their part.”

“How often does that happen?” Xavier said, tilting his head.

“It happens when your opponent either is too focused on one thing or doesn’t do a full mental inventory of the cards left in the deck. Really, such stumbles only happen to the inexperienced and those who miss the forest for the trees. But strong players and players with something else on their min-, can I help you?” Xavier’s opponent said, slowly tilting her body to gaze past the player in front of her.

Xavier slowly turned to see Twilight behind him, who shot both of them an awkward smile, folding her ears back.

“Oh, the troublemaker,” the old unicorn in front of Xavier lifted an ear. “Whisperwind informed me someone is sleeping in a second bed.”

“Look, listen,” Xavier said, turning back to the old mare, the dancing flame on the table disappearing from his glasses and replaced with the warm red of the hearth. “It was a total misunderstanding, sometimes I get these lapses in thought and-”

“Now, now, now. Don’t lie to save her face,” the mare tutted, playfully rolling her eyes at Xavier. “Even as a neophyte to this game, you play too sharp to convince me you just had a decades early senior moment.” The old unicorn got up from her position and approached Twilight, the stool she sat on clacking against the wooden floor. The purple unicorn kept her mouth closed as the old unicorn examined her from side to side.

The old mare walked around Twilight three times and stopped to stare at her rump, and groaned, “An astronomical mark, how quaint.” Then she made two more circles around her. Stopping in front of Twilight, and stared past her bangs. “You lead him?”

“Yes…” Twilight looked down, then away while she trailed off. Xavier’s mouth opened for a split second, then he shook his head and bit down on his tongue.

“My name is Golden Leaf,” the old mare said. “And you need to conduct yourself better if you’re lead. He might be flat-faced and ignorant, but at least that does not detract from him catching on quick.”

Twilight looked down and gritted her teeth, then looked past Golden Leaf at Xavier, whose countenance was unmoving, “Thank you for your advice, I will take it into consideration.”

“What is up with that growth on the base of your horn?” Golden narrowed her eyes and took a step, approaching Twilight. The unicorn backed up and looked left to right, letting out an uneasy, nervous laugh.

“Well, you see,” Twilight began.

“It’s MacGregor’s syndrome,” Xavier interjected. “A side effect of fighting in the obsidian fields near a volcano,” Xavier got up and walked to Twilight’s side, and placed a hand behind her head. “From what the doctor tells us, her horn attempted to compensate for the draining effects of the obsidian formations by bolstering horn growth, but it was too much too fast and it slightly warped the base. Right pumpkin?”

“Y~yes.” Twilight shot a smile towards the old mare. “Ha ha, we tried to save as many as we could!”

Xavier’s eyes shifted at Twilight as the side of his mouth stretched, then returned to his seat.

“MacGregor?” Golden Leaf tilted her head at the human.

“It was human doctors that gave it a formal name,” Xavier looked left, away from the unicorn, and waved at her as once again, the candle’s reflection danced across his lenses. “Of course, we thought about shaving it off, but that carries risks and the only real side effect is that she can’t cast magic for a few days at a time, so I step in and help out.”

“Yes, yes,” Twilight mumbled as she looked away.

“Huh,” Leaf backed off from Twilight. “And the other members of your herd?”

“Well…” Xavier stumbled verbally.

“We just started this herd and,” Twilight took a step around the old mare, putting herself between the interrogator and her Ritter. “You have to forgive my stallion on the second bed request, he didn’t know how that works out, being human in such.”

“Ah,” the old mare lifted her head. She then turned to Xavier and started, “be very careful with such a request, Whisperwind threw a bit of a fit, but you understand, being a stallion yourself.”

Xavier glanced over to Twilight, who bit her lip and lifted her eyebrows up and down twice, “Yeah I guess.”

The old mare returned back to the table she and the human were playing at, “So, where are you headed?”

Xavier glanced over at Twilight who caught his gesture and let out a shallow laugh, “Well… Were going to go camping in the North and uh,” Twilight shook her head and blinked. “We were going to get supplies in Manehatten, but then the riots broke out and…”

“Oh, you avoided that mess just in time,” the old mare said, nodding. “Last I heard, the Manehatten government has officially extended a request for assistance to the Union. I guess their troops will be there any minute now.”

“Yeah, yeah… hey sweetheart, can I talk to you for a moment?” Twilight said, shooting a faux smile at Xavier.

Xavier caught Twilight’s expression with his eyes. “Sure,” Xavier said, nodding to her. He turned to Golden Leaf and said, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Xavier walked past Twilight and towards the main foyer. As Twilight turned, Golden Leaf got up and turned towards the other unicorn, then lunged forth to Twilight’s left, and whispered into her ear, “The problem with a quick-witted stallion is that if your wits aren’t faster, they will leave you in the dust and find a lead more worthy of them.”

Twilight slowly pulled away, as Golden Leaf’s eyes kept barreling at her. The old mare stared intensely at Twilight, as if her night had been ruined by Twilight’s interruption of the game she was having. Again, Twilight tried to smile, but the old mare kept her focus on Twilight, whose countenance faded and a more honest apprehension took over.

Twilight peeled herself away from the old mare and walked into the main entry hall, and up the stairs, the human waiting for her at the door to their room. Approaching, Twilight entered the room as Xavier close the door.

“Sweetheart? Really?”

“Okay, what’s going on? Are you trying to scam her out of bits?” Twilight snipped, the darkness of the room having poured all over her.

Xavier shook his head in the dark, “When I got back, you were reading, so I popped downstairs and found her playing by herself. I asked her to teach me and well, turns out there’s a multiplayer variant.”

“Okay… Are you trying to scam her?” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just trying to win a game?” Xavier blinked, looking left and right. “So far I’m down four games, but I’m sure I can beat her in the next one.”

“No one justs picks up Commune in an afternoon,” Twilight snorted.

“You’re right, she’s still correcting mal-play on my part. But if she had a problem with that, she would’ve been done with me the first game,” Xavier crossed his arms.

“So you’re still going to throw flak at me, throwing me in second bed and all, but walking up to strangers and saying ‘teach me that’ is fair play for you?” Twilight’s eyes finally adjusted, staring at Xavier’s tired expression.

“There’s a big difference between being chased by a stranger and asking consent from a stranger to interact,” Xavier scratched his eyebrow.

“But why are you wasting time on this?” Twilight snorted. “We have better things to do than—“

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, this is not a waste of time,” Xavier said, narrowing his eyes at Twilight. “I’m not going to give up any leisure time I can get a hold of for the sake of making this trek an hour shorter.”

“Listen to me, the sooner we get this done, the better,” Twilight tapped her hoof on the floor. “We don’t have time for games, or sightseeing, or meeting the locals.”

“If that’s the case, you should have just marked on the map where the Abby is because I’m not going to curb my desire to interact with the world for the sake of two or three days saved,” Xavier said, crossing his arms.

“It’s facetious, a waste of time,” Twilight rolled her eyes. “What value is to be gained from meeting ponies you’re never going to see again, or play games that you only get to play a handful of times, or–”

“Because for a long time,” Xavier gazed down at Twilight and began. “I was paralyzed by pain.” Xavier took two steps towards Twilight as the mare held her gaze, “And the only thing I had was a bottle of pain relievers which dulled my mind and tainted every interaction I had. And the slight background buzz of soreness stuck with me, even when the drugs were working their best. I had no desire to read, to play games, to go see things I might only get a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see, or even meet new beings. Certainly not that, the ache would push the worst of me out just to get the conversation over with unless I took more of the drug then prescribed, but doing that was risky. But now? Free of the pain and free of the drugs?” Xavier shook his head.

“I’m not going to waste what time I have now, so I’m going to go out there and carpe the shit out of my diem now.” Xavier lowered his head, his eyes peaking at Twilight from above his glasses, “And if you have a problem with it, I would ask that you try living with that kind of pain for as long as I did. Then you might have a newfound appreciation for all the things you have missed, the pleasure of a simple conversation with a stranger, the strain of matching your wits a the stronger mind, taking a moment to enjoy the world. Now, I’m going to go back downstairs to play some more, and that’s where I’ll be if you need me.”

Twilight stood, staring narrow eyed at her stallion while Xavier turned to open the door, walking out into the candle lit hall, closing the door behind him.