Hidden Bonds

A “Short” Train Ride

The old musk that filled Inkwells nostrils reminded him of his first day on the job. The building had seemed so large to him back then with its massive volume of tomes that soared into the heavens of the rafters above, the sheer ominous feeling of being so alone for hours on end, and even the anxiety of hopelessness that filled you when wandering the aisles of shelves.

Inkwell felt a small smile cross his lips as his orange magical aura gripped tight the last book from his nightstand; his eyes drifted across the tomes title and wondered why he had thought “A Brief History of Satchels” had sounded interesting enough to him.

Shaking his head and snapping out of his trip of nostalgic bliss Inkwell latched his left saddle bag closed and looked around his small room. The ancient store room seemed so inviting as he prepared to leave for however long; his small bed seemed to call him to sleep once more, the small fridge and table of scratched oak beckoned him to eat one last meal, the entirety of the small enclosure called out to his sense of fear. His resolve to leave weakened; why should he leave his life of content to finish a job for a pony he had never even met before? He had so much more he should be doing instead! Inkwell kicked his back hoof into the old stone of his room’s wall and heard a loud slam that caused him to jump. Inkwell ran up the stair and out of the libraries trap door.

His breathe came in swift successions as the chill of the domed building started to set in; with the spring time weather unusually warm out the buildings stone interior seemed to resist the heat and hold in its ancient chill. Inkwell calmed himself as he steadily walked toward the checkout counter for the last time in a long time, or at least that’s what Inkwell feared. The mahogany wood seemed to gleam in the light beckoning Inkwell to simply walk behind it and stay. Inkwell walked on past the temptation of the calm that he so wished for and breathed in slowly as he approached the libraries exit out into the street. However as Inkwell exit the building the chill of his home seemed to linger as he headed toward the station for his early departure to Fillydelphia, the city of brotherly love, the motto was the only bit of information that still seemed strange to Inkwell after his late night research into the metropolitan area.

The warm spring air put a bit of giddy up into his pace as he heard the chime from the town bell alerting him to the new hour that dawned.

‘I hope this bit of a trip doesn’t last too long; the cake I have in my fridge might spoil by the time I return,’ Inkwells thoughts always seemed to turn toward food whenever he found himself in a sticky situation. The thought of the rich cake that nestled within his fridge brought a stream of drool into his mouth and moistened his tongue as he walked aimlessly toward the station.

The Canterlot train station came into view as the stark noise of the trains steam engine broke through the air; the buildings large glass windows glared in the early morning sun and seemed to detour Inkwells walk forward as he attempted to shield his eyes form the beams of light. The dark purple and golds of the stations walls drew in passerbys that would marvel at the strange beauty in the marvel of Equestrian engineering. Inkwell took a seat onto a small wooden bench that looked out onto the tracks, which stretched from the city’s walls and into the tunnel to the outside world. Inkwells eyes fell onto the locomotive as it began to pull into the station.

The gyration of its steel mesmerized young fillies and colts that stood next to their parents waiting for the large and new to them steel contraption to come to a stop.

The train halted in front of the large platform that held ponies of young and old simply waiting to depart from the royal capital; the doors opened and a small flood of visitor rushed out and with them came their luggage. Small carryon purses and bags and large luggage that took carts to empty from the space inside, and as the coach seats let out and the passengers dispersed then did the car in front of the train open to let the select few out of their first class seats and onto the platform. Inkwell recognized few of the faces that exited the plush car; there was the unfortunate Upper Crust who sent her tutored children to the library once a week to study. However once out of their mothers sight the children would usually wander the library reading fantasy books and napping in the children’s section rather than studying the large textbooks their mother had set aside for them. Inkwell never did understand how such nice children could come from such a rotten apple such as Upper Crust.

The others that followed her seemed to simply be her entourage of lackeys and yes men who beckoned to her every need. She took a private entrance into the station and disappeared much to Inkwells relief; a medium built stallion finally exited the train and looked around from above his small eye-glasses. His dark black mustache and beard seemed to grow out to a point and simply stay there as he pulled out his small bronze pocket watch with one hoof.

“All aboard for Fillydelphia,” at once the crowd of ponies lined up with tickets in mouth ready for the bearded conductor to stamp the parchment of passage. Inkwell found himself behind a rather small filly whos yellow coat was adorned with small freckles across her face; her large stallion of a father stood next to her his coat the same shade of light yellow s his daughters. Inkwell didn’t recognize the father, daughter team that stood in front of him which relaxed him.

The line seemed to move in quick succession as each ticket holder was quickly checked by the stallion conductor and then lead onto the train. As the two in front him walked through the trains doors and sat down on a small two pony seat Inkwells thoughts shifted back to the first train ride he had taken as a colt. His mother had needed to visit the large market inside Canterlot and with his brother at magic kindergarten for the day, Inkwells mother was forced to bring the small colt with her onto the train. Inkwells mind snapped back to reality as the waking world conductor tapped him on the shoulder. “Sir your ticket,” the ticket in Inkwells satchel glowed bright orange as he gripped the small parchment with his magic and pulled it out. The conductor inspected the ticket and with a look toward Inkwell stepped aside and allowed him into the trains’ compartment.

Inkwell found a small two pony seat near a window in the front of the car and sat down ready to try and get this adventure over sooner rather than later. Inkwell levitated his saddlebags onto the seat next to him and the heavy object fell into the seat with a loud thud that made him cringe. His head swiveled back and forth looking to see if anypony was now staring at him; Inkwells eyes widened as he saw the young filly from earlier staring at him with a small smirk on her face. A blush came to his face as he turned back toward the front of the car and tried to sink down into his seat in hopes that she would forget that he was there.

The train lurched forward as Inkwell finally began to relax in his seat and out of his satchel he pulled a small apple. Red and delicious Inkwell felt that eating the small fruit now would help ease his traveling fears and with a silent chomp bit into the apple. The fruits tangy juices filled Inkwells mouth with a small stream of drool pooling out of his lips as he lost himself in the bites of happiness; sounds of conversations and small coughs filled the trains compartment but the noise fell onto silent ears as Inkwell lost himself in his small pleasure. Minutes passed and with his apple devoured and a very long train ride still ahead Inkwell filled his head with thoughts of what to do with his time. An idea popped into his head as he pulled Census Takers folder out of his satchel and looked at the first pony on the list he now had to go down.

‘Mushroom Cloud, why in the wide, wide world of Equestria would anypony name their child Mushroom Cloud I mean what is she a bomb expert?’ The thought made Inkwell laugh silently to himself as he checked out her information from the last census taken a few years ago, and everything on it made Inkwell shiver with doubt at his attempt to meet such a pony.

The skills this mare possessed seemed to be something out of a comic book to Inkwell; looking over her training in fungi and their use for remedies and such seemed to be fine.

It was the addendum that followed that disturbed him ‘Three counts of misdemeanor poisoning’ the thought made Inkwell gulp inaudibly. What if he met this mare and just because he didn’t say she looked nice she tried to poison him with something horrible? He shook his head violently and looked past the little bit of information that was written down for the dangerous mare and found the address he was to find her at. As the train rattled on and the day seemed to become more dusk outside; Inkwell put away the small manila folder in lou of a small book he had taken for the purpose of simply passing time. “The Time Spell” by H. G. Whinny, the book was always a laugh to Inkwell as a young colt who would image himself traveling through time and fighting off extinct creatures. The book became a small thing that he always enjoyed rereading and now seemed the perfect time as the car started to go silent with now sleeping ponies.

His light orange magical aura opened the small tome and flipped to the first page with its yellowed coloration and its rich aroma of age; Inkwell began to read by the light of the moon as the train hurried on toward his destination.

“Hey mister,” the small yellow filly poked Inkwells face with her front hoof, “Mister is you ok?” Inkwells eyes opened to find the brightness that was the sun shining in his waking retinas and as his vision cleared the sight of the small yellow filly came into view. She looked up at Inkwell with a goofy grin on her face; Inkwell could tell she was holding back a fit of laughter.

“Mister you have some dried drool on your muzzle,” Inkwell blushed a bit and his horn lit up to lift a small towel out of his satchel to wipe his face clean of the dried saliva. The young filly began to laugh and ran behind Inkwells seat toward where she had earlier sat with her father, however now he saw the car to be empty and felt the ground to be still under hoof. Inkwell walked toward the cars door and looked out onto the open platform outside.

Knotted wooden paneling felt strange as Inkwell trotted forward with his satchel resting heavily onto his back. The fine smell of baked goods and the rich aroma of age that filled the city of Canterlot seemed so different from the stark smell of metal with a strangely sweet smell of vegetables and fruit; Inkwell walked into the small station with its aged stained-glass windows casting colorful shadows onto the rich teal marble floor. A pair of pegasi hovered in the air above the crowd of ponies that hustled through in an attempt to board their respective trains; the two small male pegasi smiled at each other before sharing a hoofbump. Inkwells attention was drawn away from the mid-air powwow to a small circle of squealing mares that were in the midst of exchanging hugs and hellos.

The aura of happiness that the group emanated gave Inkwell a bit of a smirk as he found the exit to the stations main lobby and walked out onto the streets of Fillydelphia. A vast collage of building unfolded before Inkwells eyes as he strolled down a cracked sidewalk toward a large aged building with tall white marble columns. Many a mare and stallion walked past Inkwell as they went about their business; some making their ways home to whatever waited for them, some attempting to get to work, and some young ponies simply enjoying the bright sun above that Celestia had brought up this morning.

Inkwells trot was halted as he passed a small café; the rich aroma of chocolate and fudge wafted past his nose and drew him inside. The cafés interior was a small well lit area with small candles light to create a relaxing mood inside as a costumer feasted upon their treat, and finally he walked up to the small counter in the back of the store. A young stallion with a beret and a coffee cup for a cutie mark stood behind the small display counter that showed up to wandering eyes a wide assortment of treats. However, Inkwell found himself drawn to the sight of a small piece of chocolate coated white cake that made his heart skip a beat as he imagined the rich flavor enveloping his taste buds. Saliva filled his mouth and finally he realized that the young stallion behind the counter was staring at him with a look of bewilderment as to why anypony would simply stand there for so long without saying a word.

“Excuse me? Do you want something or are you just going to stare at the display case all day?” The stallion grabbed Inkwells attention finally and waited for a response to his impromptu question. Inkwell looked around the small café and found only a few other ponies inside luckily as he began to think of his thought spell; he sought out the minds of everypony nearby. The three costumers were an easy pull as he just needed them to be able to think they hear him speaking from a distance the tricky part as always was simply getting into the minds of those nearby. In whole the spell took merely a few seconds and then Inkwell spoke, “Sorry I was just admiring the small bit of cake there.”

The stallion gave Inkwell a strange glance as he slowly walked into the back of the cafe leaving Inkwell with an empty stomach and an unsatisfied sweet-tooth. Pulling himself back outside was a bit of self-control that Inkwell surprised even himself with; the thought of cake nagging in the back of his mind. He quickly began to trot away hoping to find some sort of distraction for his cravings.

Passing by shop after shop selling everything from sweets to bullhorns; the latter made Inkwell take a step back in surprise before continuing on in his attempts to find the mysterious mare he sought. Finally a small shop drew his attention and he halted in his tracks. The shops store front sold oddities of every kind from poison joke, to fossilized wooden earrings, and strangely enough mushrooms of every color and shape it seems.

Time seemed to slow as Inkwell saw the large form of a stallion coming toward him from behind the store window and in only a second the stallions form had crashed through and landed on top of Inkwells now dizzy head. As the world began to spin Inkwell saw the shape of a small mare walking through the broken window and stepped down onto the sidewalk.

" THAT'S WHAT I THINK OF YOUR DISTILLED MUSHROOMS!" The small grey pegasus radiated a sort of rage that made even Inkwell shiver out of pure fear. Suddenly the image from the file flashed into his mind and he felt his spell kick into action.

"Mushroom Cloud?" The grey pegasus looked up in bewilderment and sought out the source of her name before looking down at Inkwell still under the other stallions unconscious form.

'Please say no,' Inkwells hopes and dreams were quickly dashed as he heard a soft yes from the mare.

"Pony Feathers..."