“The Friendship Express? Is that supposed to be a joke? Even if I wanted to make friends here — and I don’t — this car is deserted.” Swift mumbled before slouching further back into the plush upholstery.

Except for those two noisome imbeciles snogging in the back. Her traitorous mind whispered.

That was the worst truth of Equestria, she’d found: the only way to ever truly be alone was to seek out a dark, windowless, room and lock yourself inside it. Even then she didn’t trust some rapacious pony-meeter not to suddenly teleport into her little pocket of sanity and color it in headache-inducing pastel colors. It hadn’t happened yet, but she’d already put a copper on it happening to her eventually. Practically, that copper would go nowhere because she could only bet with herself, but it was the principle that mattered.

“They could’ve called this the Iron Po-“ Swift cut herself off to cover her ears as the screeching of the brakes overwhelmed her senses. I’ve made it to another stop on my grand tour of Equestria’s railway systems. Woo. Swift thought from her new position underneath the table.

Swift couldn’t have cared less about the town. Nothing in Ponyville reminded her of home like the little skyscrapers of Manehattan, and there wasn’t any ancient historical architecture like in Canterlot that gave it any cultural or historical value. The place was just some random farm town that sprung up along a railway leading somewhere actually important. None of the streets were paved, not even with cobblestones. The only things that redeemed it in her eyes were that it was easy to get to, near to both Canterlot and supposedly Cloudsdale, had a post office, and a small inn.

That was if the map she had acquired while waiting for the train was to be believed. Which it apparently wasn’t, considering the windows into the supposed inn were all boarded up and a cheery sign nailed to the door proclaimed that the property had been sold to somepony over a month ago. Swift had stopped reading after it became clear business there was on indefinite hold. It’s too early for this nonsense. I can’t even sleep on a cloud because this bloody briefcase doesn’t have the right enchantments.

What is even the point of having this enchanted if I can’t even take it places without sculpted clouds? More things to report back tomorrow I suppose. Swift slowly swept her gaze across the small plaza and started walking down one of the narrower, less tread, paths. There weren’t any other establishments where she could stay the night, at least according to the map, and she didn’t want to rely on it any more than she already had.

There were many houses on the street lined up in little rows. They were painted in bright and often clashing colors that probably looked decent during the day, but just made the atmosphere depressing and bleak at night. It was an aesthetic that only really worked when there were other creatures around to liven up the scene. She noticed that there was a bit of space between the dwellings and stopped at the entrance of one of the not-quite alleyways. Swift poked her head into the gap and looked around a little. She took a few guesses regarding the dimensions of the space and figured the fit would be a little tight, but that that meant she wouldn’t have to worry about getting dirtied by the ground while she slept.

She peered around before she headed toward the gap with the most roof overhanging it. A small single-story house took up one side and an even smaller dark purple house the other. Neither had any windows nearby so she slowly backed herself into the alley. Swift decided to set her alarm early — it wouldn’t be good for her if somepony found her wedged in between the houses and decided to do something about it.

***

Swift woke to the sound of rain and the sight of a young stallion hitched to a cart and panting as puddles slowly formed in the street. A young stallion that was looking at her. Why didn’t you wake me before that pony saw me?

Wake-up parameters were for time designated “moonset” reminder – call sunrise – not for when another organic is detected in the vicinity.

Well then update the bloody parameters! Swift was definitely going to send those insipid Culombian coders back home a letter explaining that their "AI" was behaving like a brain dead literalist. Swift rolled her eyes and picked up her case and made to bargain with the red earth pony.

They, however, seemed to have different plans, as with a muttered “eyynope” he began pulling his cart again toward Ponyville’s central square. It took her only a few more moments to extricate herself from the walls but by the time she was out, the pony was already halfway up the road. Swift didn’t have any difficulty catching up to the stallion and pondered her options. He didn’t even so much as look over at her as they walked on through the rain that was getting the rest of her as wet as her left side was when she woke up.

When they made it to the market, Swift’s eyebrow lifted by a barely perceptible amount as she took in the scene before her. At least twelve small stalls were in various stages of being set up around the circle despite it being only a little before six in the morning. There were stalls for produce and products, with more coming in, although everything being sold here seemed to be things that wouldn’t be sold in a store or didn’t have a store to sell them, like all of the produce she saw around. Clearly either the misinformation is strong in Canterlot, or whoever made that railway travel guide was very biased, because I could call these ponies many things, but I don’t think “lazy” would be one of them.

Swift looked at the pony she’d been following and saw a couple of the others either nodding to him or looking away at the ground. Odd, but unimportant. Either he’s a polarizing figure or something happened. Probably the latter. She could see that all he was selling were apples, but monocropping didn’t seem like something Equestria had fazed out yet based on the other presumed farmers around. There were different varieties to choose from though, so they probably weren’t going to collapse the local soil ecosystem entirely. Then again, magic. Magic everywhere…

Swift tossed a silver bit at the apple farmer, more than enough to buy a couple of the sparking apples, but she oonly grabbed the largest fruit she could see. She winked exaggeratedly at the pony and walked off into the weak morning light. She had a few hours to burn before the town hall opened.

***

The Ponyville clerk was late by half an hour, which left Swift in an awkward position sat at the front of a nonexistent line waiting for service. Because what would a society like this be without lazy bureaucrats. A glare flashed across Swift’s face while she did her best to stamp out the irritation. Eventually though, somepony wearing glasses frames stepped behind the counter and waved her over.

“My deepest apologies, A staff meeting went quite a bit longer than anticipated. Please call me Mrs. Papyrus. How may I help you?” The dark orange earth pony greeted her. Mrs. Papyrus had a small, almost knowing, smile on her muzzle.

Swift resisted the urge to wipe the smile off the mare’s face just as she had done so, so many times before with so many other ponies. “I’m looking to get to Cloudsdale, and was told that Ponyville was the closest town to it at the moment,” Swift paused for a moment as the mare nodded, “Could you provide me directions to get there?”

“Hrm, well. I don’t have that information, but the weather ponies definitely would. And the mailmare… might.” The mare said somewhat unconfidently.

“Where can I find those ponies?”

“The weather team is out clearing up the rain clouds that came in from the Everfree overnight. Or at least they should be. I don’t bother with keeping them all in line, that’s not my job. They probably won’t be back for around a few hours. Ditzy should be doing the rounds about now too.”

Swift groaned internally at the inconvenience Ponyville had already made for her. First it was the inn, then the market stallion, and now this. “Is there any chance that you could provide me the usual route that Ditzy takes while delivering parcels?”

“Sure… but be warned, she doesn’t have an official route, and anything you hear from me is more compiled from reports than any knowledge of her whereabouts on my part.”

Reports?

***

It would be sufficient for her logs to say that Ditzy Doo proved incapable of providing accurate directions. Swift had flown for long enough to reach the outer edges of the morning's storm clouds before she randomly came across one of the weather ponies she had heard about half heartedly bucking a grey rain cloud into nonexistence.

“Stupid Everfree, with its stupid uncontrolled weather, and stupid mayor making us dregs work overtime to clean this mess up.” The pegasus mumbled as Swift closed with him from behind. “At least we’re getting paid this time.”

Swift switched the hoof she carried the case in and coughed into her now free hoof to get the other pony’s attention. “Could you point me in the direction of Cloudsdale? I appear to be rather lost,” Swift said. The proclamation tinged with the same affected matter-of-fact tone she would have used if she had said the sky was blue or that swords could cut pens.

***

Several hours later, at least a quarter of which she spent backtracking to Ponyville, Swift finally flew into Cloudsdale. Surely there’s somewhere in this Saviors blasted city that I can rent a room. Surely. There has to be. I refuse to sleep below this city like some unintelligent vagrant.

Swift didn’t have to search too long before she found a place renting rooms. The only downside was that it was on the bad side of town. At least as much as anything could be on a side of town in a place where the city was constantly shifting in all three dimensions. And as much as a bad side of town could exist in a place where the undesirables were offboarded to the less prestigious flying cities with clockwork regularity.

It was a wonder to Swift how anything got done in Cloudsdale when the positions of every single location except the few buildings in the center were in constant flux. Yet somehow, commerce seemed nigh unimpeded. “One small room for the night? That’ll be twelve silvers.” Except for all of the prices being down because of the war. Cloudsdale seemed to have been hit harder by the call up that farmer on the train mentioned than the other places she had visited so far. Swift couldn’t complain when she nodded and hoofed over the bits though, she had limited currency to spend before she would be forced to get a proper job and blend in with society.

“If you break anything in the room you will be paying for it. Plus interest. Understand?”

“Yes,” Swift acknowledged before she continued in plain disregard for the stern tone the stallion used, “and before I go, which direction is 273 Snowflake Lane? I’m looking for Bow Hothoof.”

Author's Note

Have a good Night!