Shallow Earth

by Odd_Shot

Rating: everyone
Tags: Starswirl the Bearded, Clover the Clever, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1039

In the shallow earth of the frozen north, Equestria searches for seeds to sow.

The ill-written letters to Star Swirl invoked little sense. But his thoughts were blinded by the stress of our work. It was up to me to see the simpler, sensible answer, and to urge us to chase.

In truth, the most we had to work with was a profound bond. But as the earth pony saying goes:

"Hope slumbers in shallow earth."

An entry for the A Thousand Words Contest III

Published 2024-06-14 03:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-06-14 03:20:01 UTC

A Misshapen Letter

my love I need you

come back

please

A Cold Reply

What matter of mockery is this?

It is a well-crafted illusion, to be certain, to lead me to believe that such miserably treated material hails from the old frozen north. But such a possibility is beyond reality: if you are a scribe in my care — as I suspect — then you ought know well that while magic may resist study, all magic ultimately submits to hard truths.

Who are you, to so frivolously waste precious ink and paper?

Star Swirl, High Mage of the Equestrian Council

Sick Field, Cold Flower

~~star~~ Storm Swirl
your field your flower
Sick and Cold

take me home please
please

Storms Swirling, Skies Darkening

I see now that I was mistaken. I am not dealing with a scribe. I am dealing with a lowly troublemaker.

The material you employ in your shenanigans is as precious as time itself. I enchanted these self-sending letters for far greater purposes. Pray tell, what will it take to cease the sending of such tasteless ‘missives’? Be reasonable, and I may just grant it. If it is not valuables you seek, then know that I will do all in my power to convince those close to me that villainy and skullduggery shape the intent of these letters. I assure you, you shall be found if I choose such a path.

You are advised to write your next words well.

Star Swirl, High Mage of the Equestrian Council

The Final Plea

Star Swirl
please come find
help us

The Clever Clover

“Star Swirl? You appear perturbed.”

“It’s nothing. Merely letters, my dear Clover.”

“Letters? Ha, to think you a socialite! You’ve changed, Star Swirl.”

“Mm. Not quite. They’re troubling.”

“Ah.”

“However, it appears they have ceased their sending.”

“A self-solving problem, no? Might I see these letters?”

“Yes, of course. Here... my records.”

“...Star Swirl...”

In the End, There is Light in the Darkness

Far from Equestria, we alighted in fresh snow.

I vividly recall the weather in particular: dark clouds pressed to a dark sky. Our pegasus entourage said nothing, but I felt it in my hooves, just as they felt it in their wings; feral magic had claimed old Cloudsdale skies.

“Let us tarry not,” Star Swirl commanded. The bells on his robe chimed in the coming gale above, and the sound jingled further across the vastness of white ocean in our wake. “This is no place for us.”

“Nor the ponies ahead,” I added as I trudged to his side.

His neck swung to me, eyes as sharp as his horn.

Star Swirl has two looks: the jovial, collected eyes of the scholar who mentored me through the Long Cold; and the annoyance of the stressed unicorn hermit who preferred tomes to company.

He showed the latter.

“Semantics, fair Clover. I retain my doubts as to the presence of ponies in this terrible place.”

“I disagree. And think, for if we did not look at all, what would the tribes say of our effort to build kingdom? Ponies would hesitate to seek us, unlike the ones, here.”

The soldiers moved to the valley ahead. Only then did Star Swirl break his stare.

The valley funneled right for a cavern. We greeted the dark entrance with calls for lanterns and light. No resistance was met.

The cave was not so ancient, or rather, not untouched. Subterranean air had frosted to the ceiling in icy crystals: breath. The warm drip of its melt percolated along stony ridges, while the chill of the north kept cool. It was a telltale sign, but a sign nonetheless. It ignited a flame in my heart, and I pressed close to Star Swirl to whisper my faith.

My flame was snuffed suddenly as the tunnel fed toward a desolate sight.

Dozens of ramshackle pull-carts had been parked to the walls. Every last splinter of wood had been plucked from their frames, the useless scraps left in great piles to succumb to a frozen never-rot. What did rot were the sacks and crates that had once ferried foodstuffs. A caravan had been assembled, here, and just as easily disassembled.

“Decay and discord. Our efforts are wasted,” Star Swirl whispered darkly. “We dally here in the past.”

“Survivors,” I pledged quickly, lest my own heart falter as far. “Ponies to join Equestria.”

“And those bound to flee again.”

“No. To have held in a place like this, and to have sent such letters—”

“—using my magic.”

“...There is hope to be found here, Star Swirl. Ponies who protect their own, just as we seek to protect and serve Equestria.”

The ruins of the apparent campground enveloped us. Our hooves echoed on the stone, and lanterns and lit horns revealed extinguished torches and fires. I did not reflect on what had brought the end.

“There is nothing,” a soldier muttered.

“There must be.” I tugged on the hems of my cloak. “There must be.”

Dreams for the cave to branch off sapped to nothing. One final route.

One end. Dead.

I swallowed, hurrying to take the lead.

Star Swirl’s voice boomed. “Who is it we seek?“

The soldiers replied in turn.

“Lo, these gem-studded cloths are a unicorn’s work.”

“Those spears are of Cloudsdale make.”

“Aye, but these bags are full of old seeds. Earth ponies.”

And the letters writ on Equestrian paper.

The end of the cave crept up from the dark. But no ponies leapt up before us.

I stood woozy, eyes up on the gray stone of the cave wall. My heart beat so slow that I thought myself as still as the dark figures huddled on the floor, trapping us. I dared not peer closer.

“Clover.” Star Swirl spoke tersely, his hoof on my withers. “We should away.”

Then, from the lifeless dark, movement.

We stood in silence as it rose. It reared its head, and bared its wings. And when it lit its horn...

Your white muzzle peeked out at us.

“Did father bring you? Mother isn’t feeling well.”

You spread a wing, cradling your sister.

“Nor Luna.”

And amid the dark, your smile burned bright.