The Sky Above

It was a sunny and brisk morning when the three ponies stepped out of the very gatehouse they’d first come in through just a couple days ago. They were headed towards the Settler, hoarfrost crunching underhoof, barely slowing down as they triple-checked their gear.

Or one of them did, at any rate.

“Yes, Twi,” Rainbow groaned. “I’ve got my share of the oatbars – we’re going to be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Twilight fretted, her horn aglow as she rifled through Rainbow’s flank satchels mid-walk. “Because there’s still time to go back if we hurry.”

Rainbow fidgeted as she resisted the urge to pull away. “We’re fine. You’ve already checked twice by now; plus, it’s not like Shade’s not a town or anything – they’ll have plenty of stuff there!”

“Should do,” Squirrel said, finally deciding to bail her out. “It’s a small town, but a town nonetheless: couldn’t be anything smaller seeing as there’s pretty much just changelings there.”

That got Twilight’s attention. “Oh? Why not?”

Squirrel looked confused for a moment before nodding. “Right – forgot. Changelings bleed magic like crazy: means they’ve either got to stick around some non-’lings that just sorta feed it back if they’re fond enough of them, or they’ve all got to stick together in a stable sort of hive. I think about it like trying to keep warm on a cold night: you either need a single fluffy duvet or a bunch of really thin ones to cozy up under.”

Twilight had spent her whole time listening nodding happily along. “Fascinating! Did you know there are several species of flowering plants that behave in much the same way? They need externally-derived ambient-mana-sources to survive, which in turn means they need to be grown by hoof or claw – they can’t survive in the wild.”

“Really?” Squirrel said, looking genuinely interested. “I hadn’t. Now I have heard of some mangroves down in the Tipples that are like that, and need some real careful tending to reach maturity, but flowers? No.”

Twilight hummed contemplatively. “The Isles? You know, those aren’t too far from Hurricanum...”

“Right, but hold on,” Rainbow cut in hastily, hoping to head off the excruitiatingly dull conversation before it built up any steam. “So changelings are basically plants, then? I mean, it’s kinda less sexy that way, I’ve gotta admit.” A bit clumsy, but it should do.

Twilight huffed and swatted her with her tail. “One-track mind there, Dash? I sincerely doubt changelings are plants, not least because it wouldn’t make a single iota of sense if they were – that’s just not how plants work.”

“Right,” Rainbow repeated cautiously. “So then... changelings are cold and need others to keep warm? Like, either one or two hot people, or a bunch of kinda warm ones?”

“Basically, yeah,” Squirrel said. “I think. Might be best to just ask once we get there?”

“Can’t imagine Twi’s the only one to ever be curious,” Rainbow nodded, quietly pleased to have moved the conversation safely away from plantlife. “So, sure.”

The Settler lay in her berth, her deck abustle as the two sailors – a unicorn, but also one of the seemingly rare wingless demigryphs – were busy readying her to sail. “Seems they’re almost good to go,” Twilight noted as they approached. “Good thing we didn’t go back after all.”

Like the previous trisails Rainbow’d been on, the Settler reversed slowly out of her mooring, her single prop whirring underneath. “I suppose one nice thing about no wires is we all get to sit up front, huh?”

“Yeah,” Twilight agreed. The sun was starting to rise fully over the mountains, bathing the three of them in its glow; from where they sat huddled at the bow its rays were feeble, but with a little luck would warm up nicely throughout the trip. “Much nicer than back in ‘Canum.”

“You actually could have a small stay and jib rigged up here,” Squirrel began before changing her mind. “But, uh, yeah – it’s nice.”

The sailors hadn’t seemed bothered in the least by their presence, presumably happy to keep them above deck as much as they could. Personally, Rainbow was feeling upbeat about it all – with such a clear deck she’d have the entire journey free to get some flying in, something which she’d not really had a good chance to do, lately. Admittedly, flying in the cold wasn’t nearly as fun as somewhere hot and coastal, what with the wonderful thermals those would have, but at this point she wasn’t going to complain.

Still best to wait until they’d gotten going, though.

“Ya know,” Rainbow said as the dockworks drifted by. “We’re almost done, aren’t we?”

Squirrel gave her a funny look. “Rainbow – we’re leaving the port, not arriving.”

Rainbow huffed. “Obviously. What I mean is, all we’ve got left to do is maybe find this sliver thing, right? ‘Cause then it’s just a case of dumping you off at Blanderbum and then boom! We’re back in ‘Canum again.”

“It’s Wanderbelle,” Squirrel said, giving Rainbow a poke in the side. “And you’re not ‘dumping me off’ – you’re accompanying me back home because you’re both so fond of me, and gracious, too, for all my excellent guidance.”

“Sure,” Rainbow smirked. “That’s totally what I meant.”

Twilight sighed. “Girls: peace. We’re not dropping her off like so much luggage – we’re fond of her, like she said.”

“And grateful for my guidance?”

“... We’re fond of her.”

Squirrel snorted, having walked right into that. “That’ll have to do, I suppose.”

There was a brief bit of shouting behind as the sailors warned them they were about to start hoisting the sails. “Mind our heads, eh?”

“Mmm,” Rainbow hummed, turning and rolling onto her back; from here, she could lazily watch the canvas unfold batten-after-batten, the fiddly connecting bits creaking and swivelling in the wind, all against the backdrop of a cloud-strewn sky. “Good napping spot,” she said, squirming in a futile attempt to find a comfy spot on the weathered teak. “Or at least with a few blankets it would be.”

“Didn’t you just wake up?” Squirrel asked. “Not even an hour ago?”

Rainbow shrugged. “It still counts as napping even you’re not sleeping – it’s the thought that counts.”

“Riiight,” Squirrel drawled uncertainly. “Well before you fall asleep or whatever, we should probably take a moment to plan out our next steps.”

“What’s to plan? Get there, find some shops and an inn, then ask around for a magic rock – easy peasy.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of budgeting for negotiations, or perhaps fallback plans if we get redirected to yet another city.”

“Oh, wow, I hope not,” Rainbow chuffed. “We’d cover the entire continent at that rate.”

“Rainbow’s right,” Twilight said. “Unless the sliver’s right next door – somehow – then this is our last hurrah.”

“Our last hurrah indeed,” Squirrel nodded. “It’s been an epic journey – all the way from that city to this other city – but all good things must end eventually.”

Twilight narrowed her eyes. “Yes, well, don’t worry – we’ll be dumping you off in Blunderbum before you know it.”

Squirrel laughed. “Geez! You wound me! But seriously though, this has been fun – having to go back to being a boring, super-stressed out cook again’ll feel weird.”

“You’ll manage,” Rainbow said. Quietly, a small part of her was feeling a bit put-out – while this whole trip to Avalon had ended up being less of an adventure than she’d hoped, it was nevertheless more of one than she’d expected; it would kinda suck for it to end. “Weather stuff is going to feel real dull after all this, too.”

“Yeah...”

“Well, unlike you two, I actually love my job,” Twilight said primly. “Once I’ve found a perfectly nice cliff to toss Cadance off of, I’m quite looking forward to settling back into the library.”

Twilight lounged on the foredeck; Squirrel was off chatting with the sailors about something or other, while Rainbow had gone off flying, her form only visible on the odd occasion she zipped close by, all of which left her some quiet time to simply enjoy the view.

Snow-crested mountains drifted slowly by some hundreds of metres below, their myriad valleys and gulchs filled with minute forests, meadows and streams. Under the late-morning sun, it looked entirely idyllic.

She shuffled in place, hunching down lower over the deck: with her muzzle tucked into her scarf and her touque pulled low, she was surprisingly cozy despite the frigid winds. She’d left her gear in the cockpit for safety, but she was hardly missing it – as much as she liked to use downtimes like this to plan things out, there really wasn’t anything to do – Shade-Under-Down was simply too much of an unknown.

So she decided instead to simply wait and, as ever, enjoy the view.