Earning the Sky

by theworstwriter

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Adventure
Length: 3570

A pony climbs a tower to help others.

History doesn't record everything, and explorers have not charted the entirety of the globe. There is always more, waiting to be told.

Ponies once suffered through hard lives in a world that was not for them, until a path to freedom presented itself. On the way to salvation, the hidden burdens of changing the world began to surface and one pony struck out on her own to shoulder them all.

Published 2012-12-03 10:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-03 10:10:01 UTC

Earning the Sky

I whipped my head about, startled by the sound of crunching leaves underhoof. With vigilant ears and fitfully scanning eyes, I took in the forest around me, waiting for any sign of a threat. My rear legs were tensed, ready to buck and destroy anything audacious enough to interrupt my mission. I grimaced as I stood, slowly relaxing when I found the decaying brown scraps spilling out from beneath my hoof. Air I hadn’t consciously held heaved out of my lungs, and I felt my muscles loosen.

The scattered remains of the frail little leaf blew away on a gentle breeze that brought with it a light fog. A whiff of food from the campsite came along as well. I licked my lips, shook my head, and stared forward toward the base of the mountain. The column of stone rising up out of it didn’t seem to stop when it reached the edge of the sky. The clouds formed a tight but distinct circle around the pillar; they allowed it passage into the space beyond.

I trembled at the prospect of an unfathomably immense world hiding beyond veils we’d never considered pushing through. Excitement at the possibilities rocked me to my core even as terror I couldn’t name crept in at the fringes of my mind: what dangers might lurk in the dark?

Steeling my nerves and remembering my purpose, I strode forth, trotting briskly through the woods and toward a new dawn. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” as they say. Proud of my resolve and fortitude as the peak’s shadow loomed over me, I nevertheless gulped upon reaching a boulder six ponies—ordinary ponies, at least—high barricading the entrance.

I grit my teeth and dug my hooves into the earth, preparing to shove with every ounce of might I could muster. As soon as I began to push, the rock shifted, its enormous granite mass giving way under my strength. My power surprised me until I remembered my sister’s tear-soaked face. Continuing to push against the immense weight, I didn’t have the strength left to hold back my tears. Streams of sorrow flowed visibly down my face, matting tracks of my coat before dripping from my chin and collecting in a pool below. I mentally repeated that I had to succeed, lest my dear sister be further burdened.

At last the boulder had tilted beyond the tipping point, and even released from my efforts it continued to roll to the side before crashing to a stop with a great quake. The dim light of the outside world shone into the cave like a bright, vigorous fire, illuminating the inky-black chamber. On echoing hooves, I stepped off of the dirt-laden path and into the rocky foyer.

Knowing I’d get no response, I called out. “Hello?”

A series of diminishing echoes answered back, and then nothing. The interior was as still as the grave, and just as devoid of life. Glancing across the empty expanse, I made note of no distractions save an engraving and a path through an arch.

My curiosity bested me, and I approached the distinct rectangle on the far wall. Over and over, a passage seemed to be repeated in the text of dozens of languages. Skimming past a multitude of unreadable sections, my gaze came to rest on something recognizable. With some difficulty, the weak light spilling in was just enough to be able to read by.

The worthy shall be rewarded with a new domain.
Beneath blessed heavens, ascend and claim your right.
Rise up above yourself and take wing.

I wondered briefly what awaited me at the roof of the world, recalling my sister’s incoherent rambling about her visions of a brilliant sphere, but quickly discarded those thoughts. My mission was to ascend, as I had known before and as the engraving had confirmed. Little else mattered.

One of my ears flicked against a phantom of a noise that wasn’t there, catching my attention and directing me to the arch. I obliged, cantering swiftly through the shadows and into the next chamber. Still marred by a few imperfections where too much rock was hewn away or had never been removed at all, the base of the spire was nonetheless startlingly circular and obviously not a natural formation. Small, rough plateaus of stone spiraled around the walls, rising a short distance with each step as if to approximate a staircase. I smiled, thinking that perhaps the climb would be easier than I’d expected.

Setting one hoof in front of and just above the other again and again until time lost its meaning, I laughed at my naivete. Of course it would be arduous, or it would’ve already been done. Still, my stamina hadn’t failed me yet and all I had to fight was my own boredom—and the increasing darkness as I moved up past where the light from below could reach.

Panic set in when I lost sight of the step after the next. I inched as close to the wall as I could and suppressed the urge to jump back when I made contact with the freezing stone. Sliding a hoof along the surface, I noticed it was profoundly smooth. I wondered whether smoothness and elevation were linked, prodding the shelves beneath me in search of the same blemish-free surface. I found no imperfections in composition... or placement.

Giddy at the discovery, I traced four steps above and below and was delighted to find they were all uniform in size at this point. Even without the ability to see, I could proceed in relative safety! I resumed my trek, confident at only a slightly reduced speed, spiraling ever upward into the unknown, completely ignorant and uncaring of the meaning of a tower that grew in perfection as it grew in height.

Gradually, the echoes of my hoofsteps faded away, replaced with stark clops and a biting cold that crept through the walls. I assumed I was nearing the mountain’s peak and was surrounded by unrelenting blizzards, cursing myself for not bringing a cloak. Climbing a mountain naked was a foolish endeavor, even if it was from the inside.

A shaft of light pierced through the space above me, falling sharply through a clear opening. Checking briefly to confirm the path was as I expected, I began a mad scramble toward the light, simultaneously comforting myself with thoughts of sight and sound and warming myself with strenuous exercise. I vaulted up through the opening and stood triumphantly above everything I’d ever known, absolutely beaming down and taking in the landscape. I chuckled at the tiny landmarks and the invisibly small ponies surrounding them. They were less than ants from here. They were all less than ants...

I shook myself free of that particular train of thought and looked back, my pupils doubling in size; the tower was not fully enclosed. Up here, rather than the steps spiraling around along the inner edge of an outer wall with a column of void in the center, the staircase climbed around the outer edge of a solid inner core, exposing the path to the freezing chill of the mountain They continued up for as far as I could see. I gulped: here I was, naked in the cold and still with some distance to go. Not only that, but several of the stairs were speckled with drifts of snow or sheets of ice. With renewed distress, I scanned every inch of the tower I could, circling around the base and hoping for shelter. Far, far above me, I could see one particularly large shelf of stone jutting out from the others.

I reasoned that snow and ice were cold and that more sat down here than up there, deciding to hurry to the ledge and rest there, hoping it would be warmer. The rush of my bounding leaps toward the light subsided, and I shivered in the frigid air. Sparing no more time to contemplate, I rocketed up and around, galloping for all I was worth so that I could both stave off the cold and reach a possible sanctuary.

The relative clarity of the mountain peak subsided as I passed into a torrential blizzard, buffeted about by frighteningly strong winds and pelted with freezing rain. My eyes stung and I had to squeeze my lids together to protect them, leaving only a thin strip of visibility as I careened around the endless corner of the spiral tower. I refused to slow my pace, desperate both to reach the platform and to find the end of the storm.

One hoof made contact with slippery black ice and flew off the edge, causing me to stumble and land on my stomach, sliding across the surface and dropping the bulk of my body into a perilous dangle. My forehooves had a death grip on the side of a step, and I made the most horrifying mistake a climber can make. I looked down.

My stomach leapt into my throat and my heart hammered all the air out of my lungs. As unthinkable as it was to let my sister take on this burden, it was a thousandfold worse to imagine her pain if she were to lose me, too.

I dug into myself and remembered my strength, pulling valiantly against gravity and rising up until my left hoof scooted backward over the edge and I found myself hanging by just one limb. I flung the hoof back up onto the surface and desperately grabbed for purchase on the stone, almost forgetting to keep pulling with the other. A crack appeared in the stone, and all thought left my head. The next thing I could remember was panting on the stairs, sitting above two and a half that had broken off and fallen away. Noting that the larger plateau stood just a little further ahead, I started a cautious climb, one step at a time, fighting through the bitter cold every inch of the way.

I collapsed onto the platform, twitching in frozen agony from the ice in my veins, and then I reached into my saddlebag. I only had enough kindling for one fire, but I knew I would get no further if I didn’t start it now. Pinning one a strip of metal to the stone beneath a hoof and clutching a chunk of flint in the other, I ignited a small bundle of dried grass and set a few wispy branches across the embers. Luckily, my lettuce was still crisp. The combination of banished cold and filled belly invigorated me.

From here, everything on the ground appeared even smaller than before. A tiny puff of smoke some distance from the base of the mountain just barely caught my attention, and I smiled. Curled up next to the fire, I laid my head down and closed my eyes.

Returning triumphantly from our quest, my sister and I were greeted with smiles and cheers from proud ponies glad to have hope for the future. In truth, we did get some immodest enjoyment from the praise, but neither of us set out with any intent but a pure one. Still, danger is danger and heartfelt reunions are a blessing. My sister rushed forward to see her beloved and wrap him in a hug.

He screamed.

My sister burst into tears and cradled his limp body in her hooves, begging for him to wake up. I stared, slack-jawed and wide-eyed at the scene, unable to move. Unable to understand. He was a strong stallion. Rarely ill, never bedridden.

We knew there were... benefits... but we’d no idea how monstrous we’d become. Subtly larger, notably sterner, frighteningly faster, and horrifyingly stronger. His spine had been severed. They said he didn’t feel anything... that he went peacefully.

I remembered hearing her wailing sobs even when I was alone. I remembered deciding that I would go on alone. That I had to protect her from any further transformation away from what a pony is meant to be. She could still live her life without... without anything else breaking.

My eyes snapped open and I scrambled to my hooves, wondering how long I’d been sleeping. Only one or two embers still glowed where the fire was, but I didn’t feel frozen. Discarding the train of thought in favor of moving on, I turned to face the spiralling tower and perked up at the sight of snow-free steps. I gleefully snatched my saddlebag and made for the stairs, turning back just once to see the distant smoke still trailing up from the camp fire.

The blizzard had vanished, replaced only by a light fog through which I could still see quite clearly. I bounded up the steps five at a time, racing for the top. When the first translucent outcropping came into view, I came skidding to a stop. The material was nearly invisible, like fine glass, and yet it felt just as sturdy as the stone before it. It seemed as smooth as ice, but my hooves still gripped it well. I studied the bizarre substance for a few minutes before deciding to trust it and carrying on.

My unease grew as the tower grew clearer and clearer until I could scarcely detect the stairs at all. The core of the spire was even less visible, and I reached a hoof toward it to make certain it was still there. It didn’t seem to be, so I leaned closer. I sucked in a sharp gasp as I lost my balance. My whole life didn’t flash before my eyes: just the scare earlier in the blizzard and shame at how I’d survived that only to fall when there was no real danger. I didn’t know how far I’d drop before hitting the central pillar, but I felt it safe to assume that even if that didn’t finish me, I’d bounce off to the side and continue to plummet.

I closed my eyes and exhaled. This was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to make the climb and receive the blessing, shouldering twice the burden in my sister’s stead so that she wouldn’t suffer any more. Instead, I’d doomed myself and damned her to eternal sorrow, alone without a sister or a beloved. I tried to cry, but nothing came out.

The sensation of falling was foreign to me, but it seemed to have faded. I felt weightless, physically, only pulled down by the anxiety of waiting for the end.

“Why?”

I peeled one eye open to find my sister staring back at me. She set me down on a large crystalline ledge projecting out from the stairs that I hadn’t noticed.

She stamped a hoof. “Why did you go without me?”

I didn’t meet her gaze. I couldn’t.

“You and I both know that this is more work than you can do alone.”

I swirled a hoof against the clear platform.

“Look at me, sister.”

I slumped down and sighed before wheeling my gaze toward her. “I wanted to—”

“We’re in this together. Nothing can change that,” she said, the beginnings of tears brimming in her eyes, “no matter how painful.”

I reached forward and wrapped her in a hug. We’d both since learned to control our strength, but we were resilient enough to withstand even a fully impassioned embrace. We both squeezed hard.

She looked over at the towering transparent staircase glinting weakly in the dim light and gestured with a hoof. “What do you make of this?”

“I haven’t a clue. Whatever it is, it’s remarkable.”

She nodded and set her sights higher. “We’re almost to the cloudbank. It looks like it parts just enough that we can get through. Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

We shared a short laugh and forged onward, my sister taking the lead up the narrow steps. As we approached the roiling sea of clouds, we saw incredibly bright beams of light shining from up above. We quickened our pace, slowing briefly to stare in awe at the side of the cloudbank, instead of the bottom. We were floored when we crested the white fluff and the sky opened. Endless expanses of brilliant blue and deep black swirled together like ink dropped in water.

Shining through the patches of darkness were countless points of light, each one twinkling at me even as my sister’s gaze was transfixed upon the largest of all. An enormous yellow orb burned amidst a patch of blue, and both of us noticed how much warmer it had become.

She turned and prodded me with a hoof, gesturing back up into the sky. “That’s it! That’s the one! It’s more important than anypony knows, and without it we’d all be nothing! Do you feel its heat?” she asked, almost hyperventilating. “Do you know how much everypony’s lives would improve if it were like this down below?”

I looked away and found a smaller sphere, hovering in one of the dark patches. It looked lonely.

“Why are we stopped here, then?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we proceed?”

She nodded vigorously, and we resumed our trek at a blistering pace. Step after step blurred by beneath us as we spun around the core, drilling up into the heavens. The bands of blue and black continued to shift and merge and split in a dazzling array of beauty the likes of which I’d never beheld. I kept in step, but my attention was on the sky.

“Do you think it would be possible to... share the gift?”

I shook myself out of my reverie. “What?”

“The one we’ve already received, or any others in the future. We have our purpose, but wouldn’t life be easier if everypony was stronger?”

I blanched. “How can you say that? After what happened!”

“No, no. Too much power is a danger in any hooves, but haven’t you seen ponies struggle? Haven’t you seen them try and fail because they were too slow or too frail?”

“You’re suggesting we grant them... a portion?”

“Yes!” she chirped. “Exactly.”

“Isn’t that unfair? If we can share and we keep some to ourselves?” The stars twinkled at me, as if to agree.

“No pony should have it all. Not even us. But if it can’t be helped, we’ll do what we must. Perhaps we can grant gifts and then go into hiding, so as not to influence them any further?”

“And if we are needed?”

“Then we’ll do what we must, and no more.”

I looked to the lonely silver orb. I thought of the strong misusing their strength, and I thought of the weak crying out for help. I thought of my sister defending me from a bully when I was a filly, and I thought of a dragon razing a village. “And when do we stop? When is the world as it should be?”

“When a pony can live a free and happy life. I’d estimate that to line up with us banishing the demons, but I’d like to bring them this warmth as well.”

The void in the center of the staircase narrowed and the spiral tightened.

“And when will we be able to defeat them? How much more must we do?”

“I don’t know, sist—”

I barely managed to stop myself from falling on my flank when I suddenly ran into my sister’s. She had stopped.

“What is it?”

She turned her head back and beamed at me. “I think I see the top!”

The two of us scrambled past step after step as fast as our hooves could carry us, clambering upward for all we were worth. We tumbled to a stop when the last ledge blossomed into an enormous chunk of translucent wonder dusted with glittering flecks that illustrated the width of the platform. A grand golden tablet struck out perpendicular to the world, hoisting many proclamations I couldn’t read into the air. My eyes fell to the top right, where the engravings at the entrance had been, and I nudged my sister, pointing a hoof.

You have earned this sky.
You need only to embrace it.
Leap and take wing.

I cocked my head to one side. “What do you think it means?” I was met with silence. I turned to face my sister, and she wasn’t there. “Sister?” I whirled about and found her some distance away, near an edge. I sighed with relief.

She took several steps backward toward me, then galloped at full speed and leapt into the sky. A sparkle like the grains covering the top of the tower danced on her sides. I screamed.

“She is the single most trustworthy pony on the face of Equestria, sister.”

“That is not the source of my concern.”

“It’s not something I’ve taken lightly. I understand the costs—you know that,” she said, pacing about the room. “It’s not a burden I wish to place on anypony. I know you feel the same, because I’ve never forgotten that you were willing to shoulder it all for my sake. But we must act!”

“Again, your concerns, though valid, are not mine. Dost thou forget how unfathomably powerful our foe is? Hast thou not seen what he has wrought?”

My sister looked at me with a stern glare. “Then what would you suggest? If granting my prized pupil the full extent of our gifts is not sufficient, then what is?”

“We must seek the fourth gift.”