Chapters The bell rang, signaling the end of the day’s classes. Scootaloo got up and went to join Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle as they walked out of the schoolhouse. "Hey girls. Do you want to do crusading today?" Scootaloo asked as she caught up with her friends.
"Sorry Scootaloo," Apple Bloom replied, "I hafta help Applejack with some work on the farm this evenin'."
"That's alright Apple Bloom. How about you, Sweetie Belle?"
"I can't either," Sweetie Belle replied. I'm staying at Rarity's this week and I need to get my things ready."
Scootaloo drooped her head and frowned. "Oh."
"But I'm free tomorrow," Sweetie Belle said cheerfully. Scootaloo cheered up a little when Apple Bloom agreed that they should get together the next day. She waved goodbye as the three fillies parted ways on the path.
But Scootaloo's happiness was fleeting. She looked around her as the other pegasus fillies and colts started to fly home. Scootaloo turned her head and looked at her own wings. She wiggled them a bit and sighed. Poor Scootaloo had never flown, even after all the other ponies her age had started flying. Even trying her hardest, all Scootaloo had managed was hovering in the air for a few seconds before falling back to the ground. Seeing the other fillies and colts flying home every day only made her even more sad. Scootaloo walked over to her scooter. With a halfhearted kick, she slowly wheeled off along the path by the river that flowed through Ponyville. For some reason, Scootaloo was in an even bigger slump than usual.
Rainbow Dash kicked the last cloud in the sky and it disappeared with a puff of vapor. Hovering, she surveyed the clear blue skies over Ponyville. The last remnants of yesterday's storm had been cleared up, and Rainbow Dash's work was done for the day. She brushed her hooves and started flying toward her cloud home.
On the way, she looked down and saw the little orange filly puttering along at her slow pace. Angling downward, Rainbow stopped so she hovered a few feet above Scootaloo. "Hey Scoot!" Rainbow said, catching Scootaloo's attention.
Scootaloo turned and looked up. "Oh, hey Rainbow Dash." Her voice was indifferent. Rainbow Dash wriggled her muzzle in confusion for a moment.
"What's up Scoot. You're not buzzing around like you usually are." Rainbow Dash made a quick circle above Scootaloo for emphasis.
"I'm fine," she said indignantly.
"Aw come on, Scoot. I can tell you're down in the dumps. What's that matter."
Scootaloo sighed. "I don't want to talk about it." She gave the ground a stiff kick and sped up the scooter. Her wings, however, remained tucked close to her sides.
Rainbow kept hovering over Scootaloo. "Oh don't give me that," Rainbow Dash spread her hooves and raised her voice. "Just tell me what's the matter." Rainbow positioned herself in the air in front of Scootaloo, keeping pace with the scooter. Rainbow's wings cycled so she could fly backward while facing Scootaloo.
Scootaloo was silent for a few seconds. She looked up at Rainbow, but her brain only seemed to focus on the pegasus' wings. Seeing Rainbow flying irritated her even more.
Suddenly, Scootaloo put her hooves on the ground and skidded to a stop on the dirt path. "Will you just stop flying, please?!" Scootaloo's agitated voice startled Rainbow Dash.
"Alright, but only if you'll tell me what's bugging you." Scootaloo was still annoyed, but gave in. She let out a guttural sigh and nodded. Rainbow landed on the ground next to her.
"It's the other fillies at school. Why can they fly already and I can't!" Scootaloo looked at her wings again then up at Rainbow Dash.
"You still haven't flown? Have you kept trying?" It had been a month since Rainbow last tried to help Scootaloo learn to fly.
"Of course I have!" Scootaloo practically yelled in exasperation. "I've been trying every day but I still can't do it!" Scootaloo's eyes were starting to tear up. "At this rate I'll never fly." Rainbow started to reply but Scootaloo cut her off. "And if I can’t fly I’ll never get my cutie mark! I'm just going to be useless forever!" Scootaloo flopped down onto the ground pouting. It felt good to get her feelings out and to have somepony to listen to, but she still felt sad.
Rainbow Dash frowned. She had rarely seen Scootaloo this upset before. Knowing how much Scootaloo looked up to her, Rainbow felt for the filly even more. She put a hoof on Scootaloo's shoulder to comfort her.
"You're not useless," Rainbow said with conviction. "You have plenty of talent. I've never seen anypony who can rock like you on your scooter." Rainbow felt Scootaloo's shoulder relax.
"Yeah, I guess. But still, I'm a pegasus. Who ever heard of a pegasus who couldn't fly? If I can't fly, I'm just going to be useless forever!"
Rainbow Dash kept comforting Scootaloo. She dried the filly's eyes and sat her on the scooter. “Look, no matter what you think, you’re not useless.” Rainbow noticed a slight smile flash across Scootaloo’s face. But in the back of her mind, Rainbow Dash knew she needed something more to cheer Scootaloo up. And suddenly, she had an idea. Scootaloo's last question reminded her of an old myth from long before the founding of Equestria.
She helped Scootaloo up. "Hey Scoot. It's okay. I have an idea. Do you want to come stay at my house for a while? We can drop your scooter off at Twilight's and I'll carry you up there. Even if you can't fly, you can still walk on clouds." Scootaloo smiled and nodded. The two ponies walked over to the library and left the scooter with Twilight. Rainbow picked up a book on pegasi mythology and then flew carrying Scootaloo and the book back to her house.
Rainbow Dash landed on the tuft of cloud at her front door. Scootaloo hopped off Rainbow's back and the two pegasi went inside. On the fly over Scootaloo had mostly forgotten about her worries earlier that afternoon. Now she was more taken aback at Rainbow Dash's house. Scootaloo had never been in Rainbow's house, or any other cloudhome that she could remember.
Scootaloo followed Rainbow Dash up to Rainbow's bedroom. "Come on Scoot, sit down," Rainbow said as she nudged the saddlebags off and laid them by her bed. Scootaloo pulled over a small cloud that had been fashioned into a cushion and sat on it. She watched Rainbow eagerly as Rainbow Dash took the book out of her saddlebag and sat on her bad.
Scootaloo eyed Rainbow. "Huh? What's that book? It is a book on flying?" Scootaloo leaned forward and her eyes grew wide with anticipation.
Rainbow chuckled. "No, Scoot, it's not. I figured you could use some cheering up about your flying troubles."
"Oh." Scootaloo's ears went flat. "Thanks for reminding me about that," she grumbled.
"Aw don't feel bad," Rainbow rubbed Scootaloo's mane with a forehoof. "When I'm done with this story, I'm sure you'll be fine."
As Rainbow sat on her bed and opened the book, Scootaloo glanced at the cover. It read 'CLASSICAL MYTHS OF THE PEGASI'. This caught Scootaloo's interest. She had never heard any pegasus myths before. They weren't usually taught at school aside from the Hearth's Warming Eve tale. Her ears perked up and Scootaloo listened as Rainbow Dash began reading.
"Now this story takes place long before the reign of Celestia and Luna, or even before the founding of Equestria."
Back in those days, ponies had to fend for themselves against their surroundings, and nature was a lot like it is now in the Everfree Forest. There were alicorns of course, but they lived high up in the mountains where nopony could reach and almost never interacted with the earth ponies or unicorns living in the lower valleys. The unicorns still worked together to raise the sun and moon every day and night, and the earth ponies would plant their crops and gather the food needed for all the ponies. But back then, there were no pegasi that could move the clouds or control rainstorms or snowfall. Storms and blizzards were unpredictable, and life for all ponies was hard.
This particular story concerns the tale of a young pegasus named Bucephoron. Bucephoron was born in the village of Nimbus. Like all pegasi back in those days, he could not control the weather or even walk on clouds. But at least the other pegasi could fly. Bucephoron was born with unusually small wings. When Bucephoron was three years old, his mother tried to teach him how to fly. But try as he might, Bucephoron's wings were unable to lift him off the ground for more than a few seconds. During his youth, Bucephoron was mocked by other fillies and colts for his inability to fly. Because of this, Bucephoron often got into fights with other foals. One day, Bucephoron's fights grew to be too much of a nuisance for the village. The local king, Tyrannus, ordered that Bucephoron's family be cast out of the town. But Bucephoron did not want to bring such shame upon his family, and offered to voluntarily leave the town so his family could stay. Tyrannus accepted Bucephoron's offer and the pegasus was sent into exile.
Bucephoron was still only a little colt, but he put on a brave face when leaving Nimbus. He had only packed a few things as he marched steadfastly into the wilderness. But soon after he left Nimbus, Bucephoron's resolve withered. The rations Bucephoron had only lasted him three days. After his food ran out, the white-coated colt resorted to munching on the grasses and berries growing at the edge of the path. One day, Bucephoron was walking along the forested path when it started raining. Bucephoron quickened his pace seeking shelter. He trotted down the path for miles, losing track of time as his focus turned to finding shelter. The rain continued to come down, soaking Bucephoron's coat. The drops of water were cold and Bucephoron began to shiver. Suddenly, Bucephoron spotted a small opening in the hill up ahead. He galloped toward the possible shelter, shivering as the rain kept falling. The drops were getting larger and splashing off his back. Eager for any respite from the storm, Bucephoron climbed up the rocky slope and entered the opening to find a small cave. Grateful and exhausted, Bucephoron shook himself dry and collapsed against the cave wall. Soon, Bucephoron was fast asleep.
Bucephoron slept for almost a full day, longer than he had ever slept before. He awoke the next morning to find the sun piercing through the cave entrance. Its warmth felt good on Bucephoron's coat. But soon the pangs of hunger and thirst hit the colt. He stepped out to the edge of the cave to get a look at his surroundings. The rocky outcroppping he had climbed was actually the side of a jagged hill with little plant life. Bucephoron looked down and groaned. The path had been largely washed away in the rain. He took a tentative step out of the cave, but the edge of the path gave way. His front hooves slipping, Bucephoron quickly backed up and away from the edge of the cliff. "Well, looks like I'm staying here for the time being," Bucephoron thought. He sighed and walked back into the cave.
Bucephoron lay down again near the entrance to the cave where the floor was still lit by the sun. The warmth felt good and soon dried him. Bucephoron rested his head on his front hooves and stared out of the mouth of the cave. For the first time since he left, he missed Nimbus. He missed his family. He even missed the other fillies and colts at school, even though they picked on him. Bucephoron brooded over his homesickness, but soon these emotions gave way to the more earthly pang of thirst in his belly. His stomach knotted. He likced his lips; his mouth was dry. Confronted with his thirst, Bucephoron's sadness turned to anger. Why did Tyrannus have to kick him out? He was just standing up for himself. And those foals, always picking on him! He stood up. They never thought he would amount to anything. Well he'd show them!
As Bucephoron went through this monologue in his head, he had been pacing. Losing himself in his thoughts, he accidentally wandered further back into the cave. "Those foals don't know anything! I can be great, even if I can't fly!" Bucephoron stamped on the ground in frustration. To his surprise, the rock gave way to reveal a wet patch of clay. Bucephoron blinked. It felt moist on his hoof. Now brought out of his trance, he looked around. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Bucephoron noticed that the cave floor had changed from stone to dirt. Calming further, Bucephoron also noticed a tingling in his forehooves. He had never had this feeling before, but something was telling him to keep digging. Bucephoron did so. As he dug down, his hooves became more and more wet. Bucephoron dug deeper into the cave floor. At a depth in the ground that caused the pegasus head to just peek above the hole, he struck his front right hoof into the clay. As he removed his hoof, Bucephoron heard a gurgling noise and faintly saw a trickle of water emerging from where he had struck his hoof into the earth. He whinnied in shock. The sound of the water reminded Bucephoron that he was very thirsty. Bucephoron's ears went flat. Was this water safe to drink? His belly grumbled again and he licked his lips. That answered that question. Bucephoron lowered his head to the gurgling water and lapped at it. It was fresh and crisp on his lips. He reared back in delight. It was as if it had come from a natural spring!
Then another wondrous thing happened. The gurgling started to grow louder. Looking around him, Bucephoron noticed the hole he dug was gradually filling with water from the spring. He climbed back out of the hole and watched the water reach the top and trickle toward the cave entrance. Bucephoron turned back to the now water-filled hole. It was bubbling with water continuing to emerge in it. It really was a spring. Bucephoron eagerly lapped up the spring water, satisfying his tremendous thirst. After he had drank enough water to stop the pain in his belly, Bucephoron walked back to the cave entrance. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed that the water was now running at a steady rate out of the cave mouth and down the hill. Bucephoron also saw the water was so clear he could see his reflection in it. He noticed something else in the reflection too. Craning his neck, Bucephoron eyed his flank to make sure it was there and cried out in joy. "Yes, yes, I got my cutie mark!" Bucephoron yelped. Sure enough, a small brown mound with water shooting out of it had appeared on his white flank. That night, Bucephoron drank heavily from the small stream now flowing out of the cave. He stared at his cutie mark and thought for much of that evening, and remembered his hooves. He looked at his hooves and had a realization. Bucephoron's talent was finding and digging up natural springs. Bucephoron smiled. He was one step on his way to becoming a hero and proving himself to Tyrannus and the town of Nimbus that he was more than a nuisance. Pleased with his discovery, Bucephoron rest his head on the ground and fell asleep to the sounds of the stream.
Bucephoron spent the next few months meandering around the forest near the cave. Every so often, he would feel the tingling sensation in his hooves and dig down. And every time he did this, water would start to bubble from the hole he had dug and start flowing toward the nearby stream. Each time he dug a spring, Bucephoron would drink from the newfound source of water and become giddy. He was so excited about his cutie mark and his new gift, that he wanted to share it with anypony who would listen. But, in the middle of the forest, there was nopony to talk to. Bucephoron's thoughts drifted back to loneliness. He began once again to think of his hometown and of how much he missed them. He deeply wanted to just see Nimbus again, despite his exile.
Bucephoron moped about the forest, sleeping beside the stream at night. He wished he could go back to Nimbus and be accepted again, but Bucephoron was convinced that there was no way Tyrannus or the other ponies would take him back now. However, one day, a thought came to Bucephoron. As he was digging at the ground, he remembered that the town had been in need of water. His ability to find a spring nearby would surely bring the ponies of Nimbus back to his good side! After gathering up his saddlebags, Bucephoron set out down the stream. He had lost track of the original path long ago, but remembered that the path crossed the stream further down.
After following the stream at a trotting pace for several days, Bucephoron found the path. He veered away from the stream and now followed the path for another two weeks. One day, as the sun was rising in the sky, Bucephoron came within sight of Nimbus. The village was just as he remembered it, nestled between two hills. The sunlight poured into the valley as Bucephoron galloped toward the edge of the village.
Nimbus was a small village, mostly populated by pegasi. The few earth ponies who lived in Nimbus were responsible for growing all the food for the entire village. But times had become harsh, and food was scarce. Bucephoron walked up to the small wooden gate at the edge of the village and was immediately greeted by a guardpony with a spear.
"Halt!" The mare flared her wings and pointed the spear at Bucephoron.
"Whoa there," Bucephoron reared slightly, startled. "It's me, Bucephoron."
"Yes, I know who you are," the guard glared as she looked him over. "You must not have a lot of brains showing your flank around here again. You're still exiled, remember?"
Bucephoron lowered his head. "Yes, I remember," Bucephoron replied with more than a touch of anger.
"Why did you come back?" the guard asked, sneering. "Did you realize you were as useless on your own as you were here? Or did that shiny white flank of yours get you attacked by bandits and you're crawling back to mommy and daddy."
"No!" Bucephoron screamed and stamped a hoof at this insult. He immediately regretted his outburst. The guard gave Bucephoron a smug look, knowing the comment hit its mark. "I'm not useless anymore. Look, I got my cutie mark!" He turned to show the pegasus guard the image of the spring that now adorned his flank.
"Well well, looks like poor little Bucephoron might be of some use after all," the pegasus guard said sarcastically. "Let's go see what Tyrannus has to say. He might even let you stay if you can actually help Nimbus," the guard gave Bucephoron a wide menacing grin, "but I doubt it."
Bucephoron sighed. It was his best chance to be allowed to return to Nimbus. The pegasus guard turned and Bucephoron started following him toward the palace in the center of the village. The pegasus hovered beside Bucephoron as he walked, acting as a constant reminder about his flightlessness. Bucephoron looked around at the other ponies in the village as he walked. Most of the ponies gave him dirty looks as he passed. Bucephoron drooped his head in shame. Soon, the guard had led him to Tyrannus' palace. It was a modest stone and brick affair, but compared to the wooden structures that dotted the village and the wooden palisade that formed a meager wall, the palace with its three stories dominated Nimbus. The guard led Bucephoron up the steps in front of the palace and through the doors. Bucephoron had never been inside the building before. The guard then led Bucephoron up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. He opened an ornate wooden doorway with columns on either side and a triangular pediment above the door. Bucephoron correctly guessed that through the door was the throne room.
"My lord Tyrannus," the guard announced, "I present you the exiled pegasus Bucephoron. He has returned to seek your pity." The guard bowed as Tyrannus beckoned to Bucephoron.
Tyrannus stood up from his throne. Even though Bucephoron had grown during his exile, King Tyrannus still towered over him. The king's dark red coat and coal-black mane made his looming figure even more menacing.
"Well well, the impudent little whelp has returned," Tyrannus said calmly as he walked toward Bucephoron. As Tyrannus slowly walked across the smooth stone floor, his hoofsteps echoed loudly through the room. Tyrannus drew himself up as he reached where Bucephoron was standing. The king extended a hoof. "I will allow you to plead your case. But first, you must bow and kiss my hoof." Bucephoron looked around. There was nopony else in the room, and he was not sure if this was customary of all those seeing the king. But he did so anyway, prostrating himself. Bucephoron stood back up, now sheepish when confronted by Tyrannus' imposing figure.
"Um-" Bucephoron felt himself going weak in his legs. He cleared his throat. "Well, your highness, the reason I came back here is because I got my cutie mark!" Bucephoron turned to show Tyrannus his flank. Bucephoron's pride in his talent eased his nervousness a bit.
Tyrannus looked at Bucephoron's flank with disinterest. "Good for you. That still doesn't tell me why you should be allowed to come back," Tyrannus said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, right. Well you see your highness, I can sense and find springs and sources of fresh water. I know that Nimbus has been going through a drought recently and I can help fix that!" Bucephoron grew more confident as he spoke.
However, every time Tyrannus replied, Bucephoron felt like he was shrinking. The king brought a hoof to his chin and rubbed it in thought. "A cutie mark for bringing forth water from the ground? On a pegasus? I've never heard such a preposterous idea in my life!" Tyrannus scoffed. "But I'll admit, you have a lot of guts coming back like this. Tell you what. I'll give you a chance to make your case, but if you can't I never want to see you near Nimbus again."
Bucephoron's stomach lurched, both in excitement and dread. He had a chance to show off his talent to other ponies and to be accepted back into Nimbus. But if he couldn't find a spring near Nimbus, he would be cast out into the wilderness forever. He realized it was his only chance and gathered his resolve. "Very well, your highness. I accept your conditions." King Tyrannus smirked and decreed the conditions for Bucephoron's penance. He would have the next day from sunup to sundown to locate a spring near Nimbus, and would be followed by the king himself throughout the day. Tyrannus dismissed Bucephoron, and he went to the room he had been given for the night.
That night when Bucephoron went to sleep, he was visited in his dreams by the alicorn Nertia. Bucephoron dreamt that he was standing alone in a white void, when Nertia appeared in a bright flash. The alicorn was light pink with a flowing white mane and tail. She stood twice as tall as Bucephoron, and her cutie mark was an eye wide open with a large black pupil in its center.
Bucephoron gazed up at the alicorn in awe as she strode toward him. “Who are you?” he asked. Bucephoron, like many ponies in the ancient times, had never seen an alicorn in his life. He felt very small in her presence and thought about bowing. Were you supposed to bow for alicorns?
Nertia put up a hoof. “There is no need to prostrate yourself. I am Nertia,” She spoke with a firm tone, but also with a softness that calmed Bucephoron.
Bucephoron relaxed and regained his composure. “If I may ask, Nertia, why have you appeared? I thought alicorns such as yourself disdained contact with regular ponies.”
Nertia smiled. “Yes, most of us do keep to ourselves and do not meddle in the lives of you ponies. However, Bucephoron, you have a great potential and ability. It is your destiny to become a great hero for this land.”
Bucephoron brightened at Nertia’s claim, but quickly became wary. Could he trust her? “Oh really? How do you know this?”
Nertia chuckled and gestured to her cutie mark. “My special talent lies in the realms of perception. I am able to see what the future holds, as well as alter a pony’s senses and mind. That is how I am able to appear before you now as you sleep.”
Bucephoron nodded slowly.
Nertia continued. “As I said, you are destined to greatness, young pegasus. Redemption shall be yours in due time.” Bucephoron brimmed with pride. If what the alicorn was saying was true, he would certainly find a spring tomorrow and be welcomed again. As Bucephoron was processing this, Nertia turned and began to walk away. As Nertia turned, her cutie mark appeared to keep its gaze on Bucephoron.
“Wait, where are you going? Tell me more!” Bucephoron reached a hoof out to her.
Nertia looked back at Bucephoron. “I must go now, but I will be keeping an eye on you.” Nertia disappeared in another flash. The void around Bucephoron grew dark.
The next day, Bucephoron was awakened by the banging of hooves on the door. "Bucephoron, it is time!" bellowed a voice from outside. The pegasus hurried to the door and opened it. King Tyrannus, flanked by two guards, looked sternly at him. "Ah good, you're up," the king said. "Come, we don't want to waste any time." King Tyrannus' voice was tinged with disdain at Bucephoron's expense. The king turned and walked toward Nimbus' east gate. Bucephoron trotted out and fell in step behind them. He held his head up straight and puffed out his chest, far more confident than he was the day before. The alicorns had bade him luck! As he followed Tyrannus, Bucephoron noticed that the sun was barely over the horizon.
They reached the east gate and Tyrannus held up a hoof for them to stop. "Now then, exile," he said the word with just a hint of malice, "you may begin your search for a spring." Bucephoron began to wander outside the gate, but Tyrannus quickly placed a hoof on his shoulder. "Wait." He pointed to one of the guardponies next to him. "You, Graupel, follow the exile and make sure he doesn't do anything sneaky." Bucephoron took a quick look at the king and then the guardpony. He had assumed that Tyrannus would be joining him on the task, but now the thought seemed foolish. He looked at Graupel and his heart sank. It was the same pegasus who he encountered when he first came back to Nimbus.
Bucephoron eyed Graupel. She sneered back. Bucephoron glared at her as Tyrannus and the other guardpony left them at the gate. "So, the ole' king is giving you a chance, eh? You're luckier than most," she said as soon as they had walked through the gate and out of earshot of the other ponies.
Bucephoron kept his glare fixed on Graupel. "Just stay out of my way."
Graupel's sneer softened and she chuckled. "Fine. Like you have any chance. We haven't had a decent rainstorm in weeks. All the earth ponies say the area’s as dry as bone."
Bucephoron snorted and started walking in a regular pattern around the area just outside the gate. The night before he had made a plan to cover the most ground possible during the day to have the best chance of finding a spring. Bucephoron started from the north end of the gate and stepped outward to the edge of the trees. Repeating this pacing, Bucephoron covered the remaining area directly in front of the east gate. He didn’t feel any tingling in his hooves, but it did not worry him. The likelihood of finding a potential spring so early in the day was minimal, and it was just the start of the search. Bucephoron continued his pacing, strategically moving southward along Nimbus’ eastern wall. Graupel leaned on the wall or hovered alongside Bucephoron.
The sun climbed into the sky as Bucephoron continued his methodical pacing around Nimbus’ walls. With each line he covered, Bucephoron grew more impatient. He hadn’t felt anything in his hooves all morning; there wasn’t even a smidgen of hint that a spring was to be found near the village. Bucephoron looked up at the sun as they reached the west gate. They had already covered half of his planned route, and still nothing. He looked up at the sun beating down on the two ponies. Sweat glistened in his fur and face. He wiped his brow with a foreleg. As if the momentary break in his work sent a signal to the rest of his body, his stomach growled. He looked toward Graupel, who was settled up against the western wall in the sliver of shade offered by it. “Hey, are we going to get lunch or something? I could use a short rest.”
Graupel opened an eye at his request. “Sure, I guess so,” she said. She ducked inside the gate and came back moments later with a small saddlebag. Trotting over to Bucephoron, she got out two small bundles of hay and four apples. Graupel gave Bucephoron a bundle of hay and an apple.
Bucephoron looked at the apple in his hoof. “Hey, you brought four apples? Shouldn’t we each get two?”
Graupel shot Bucephoron a scowl as she turned to her saddlebag again. “What, you think just because His Majesty let you have a second chance that you can get equal treatment? Ha! You’re still technically an exile, and King Tyrannus ordered that you should still be treated as such.”
“Hmmph!” Bucephoron snorted and gave the grass a hard stomp with a hoof. Graupel was starting to get on his nerves again. He had been so concentrated in his searching for the spring that he had forgotten about her arrogance. Bucephoron trotted to beneath the wall and rested against the cool stones that were still in shadow. As he munched on the apple and hay, he sulked. That arrogant mule, he thought. He would show her that he could find a spring and prove that he was worthy of coming back. By the time he went back to work, finding a spring to show up Graupel had almost surpassed his desire to return to Nimbus.
Bucephoron’s search on the north side of Nimbus started off just as well as the search on the south side; more nothing. In fact, the north side of Nimbus seemed drier than the south side. The ground on the north side of the village was harder and drier, and his hooves clicked sharper against the dirt. Another hour went by. Bucephoron kept up his pacing, and by two in the afternoon he reached the north gate. He still hadn’t even felt any sense whatsoever in his hooves that there might be a spring near the village. He kicked a hoof in frustration. Graupel, as usual, was wherever she could find a shady spot. Bucephoron sighed and kept it up. Surely he would get a hint of a spring in the last quarter of the village’s outskirts. He had to. Bucephoron stopped, breathed heavily for a few moments, and started up his pacing again.
Three hours later, Bucephoron collapsed to the ground. He and Graupel were at the eastern gate again. Bucephoron got up and kicked the ground hard and screamed at the heavens. He had searched every single spot of land near Nimbus, and had still not found any sign of a spring. “Curse these alicorn forsaken hooves!” He yelled skyward as he stamped at the ground. Graupel fluttered over to him from the gate.
“Aww, did you still not find a spring?” she said malevolently, mock petting his head. Bucerphoron knocked her hoof away.
“No! No thanks to you,” Bucephoron grumbled. He was still very annoyed with Graupel’s taunting, but more than that he was disheartened. Nertia’s appearance had convinced him that his strategy would work, and he had covered every inch of ground around the village. There was just no spring in the vicinity. He slumped to the ground. It was over. Nertia had been wrong. Bucephoron knew he should not have trusted her. And because of it, he wouldn’t be allowed back into Nimbus, and would go back to wandering the wilderness and the forests.
“Wait,” he thought. Suddenly his moping had given him an idea. King Tyrannus hadn’t said anything about not going into the forest to search. Surely he’d find a source of groundwater there. He stood up and looked at the sun. It was still a few hours before sunset. With this newfound urgency, he rushed off down the path into the forest.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Graupel said, flying after him and hovering to block his path.
“I’m going to look in the forest,” he said pointing his hoof past her. “Tyrannus never said that I couldn’t.”
Graupel sighed, but consented. There was no chance he could find a spring by the end of the day, so why not have a little fun and follow him. She shrugged and moved aside. Bucephoron trotted down the path and she followed close behind.
The two ponies ventured down the path that Bucephoron had followed when he first went into exile. He knew the path well, and sought out rocky areas like the cave where he had first found his spring. The air became cooler as they left the sun-baked clearing around the town and entered the shade of the forest. Bucephoron sighed with relief as the searing heat stopped hitting his back and face. Graupel followed close behind Bucephoron. She had never gone into the forest. Few ponies from Nimbus ever had.
After half an hour of walking, Bucephoron noticed a small rocky outcropping sheltered in the trees to the right of the path. Even better, he could feel a slight tingling in his forehooves. He started to wander off the path into the undergrowth. “Hey, where are you going?” Graupel snapped.
“I think I felt something in my hooves. I think it’s coming from over there,” Bucephoron pointed with a hoof. “I’m going to check it out.”
Graupel looked warily at straying off the path into the forest. “Wait,” she said. Her tone was still mocking but hid a twinge of worry. “Are you sure it’s safe to go out there? What about the creatures that lurk in the forest.”
Bucephoron raised an eyebrow. “Creatures? All I’ve encountered were a few bunnies and maybe a snake, nothing dangerous. Any larger creatures that are here are probably nocturnal.” Graupel’s eyes darted slightly as she eyed the surrounding foliage warily. Bucephoron noticed and was unable to resist returning her mocking. “What, are you scared?”
Graupel’s expression immediately returned to its usual smirk. “Of course not.” Bucephoron started walking further into the brush and Graupel followed him looking around as she hovered amid the aspen branches. Bucephoron trotted briskly through the trees to the outcropping. The feeling in his hooves was still slight, but weaker, like they were going numb. Bucephoron paid this no notice, as his mind was now completely set on the spring being somewhere near those rocks.
Graupel followed and alit on the top of the granite outcropping. The lone scrag of rock formed the center of a small clearing in the midst of the forest. From the top, Graupel could see out to the horizon just over the shorter trees. From her angle, the sun was just beginning to set below the tall mountains to the west. One peak in particular stuck out from the rest, rising high up above its brethren and disappearing into the far off cloud cover. The grey pegasus admired the view for a moment before returning her attention to Bucephoron.
Meanwhile, Bucephoron had been circling the rock formation. He moved in a slow outward spiral, stopping to dig at various spots in the ground. Fixated on the ground, he stopped at one particular spot a dozen yards north of the formation at the edge of the trees. His legs felt like they were burning after the day’s walking, but Bucephoron did not care. He was sure he had finally found the right place! His hooves felt numb as he began pawing. The dirt felt cool and moist under his hooves. He kept digging furiously with his forehooves. Dirt flew from the hole he created. It grew deeper. Six inches. Minutes later the hole was almost up to his chest.
Graupel had been following Bucephoron’s movements looking down from the top of the formation. She shook her head as he desperately dug. Graupel looked back up to admire the sunset. Suddenly, she heard a yelp from down below. Looking back at Bucephoron, she saw him scrambling out of the hole with his back legs. Graupel got up off her perch and skidded down the smooth stone on the north side of the formation, hopping just before the edge to land on the floor of the clearing with a little flair.
“What was that? Did you find anything?” she asked. After watching him search all day, she was admittedly curious if he had found something.
Bucephoron brought his left hoof up and winced. “No, just bedrock.” Graupel looked at his hoof. He had been digging so violently that he had stubbed his foreleg just above the hoof. She could clearly see the purple discoloration beneath his white fur. Bucephoron grinned sheepishly, but regained his composure and excitement quickly. “That was a bust, but I think I know of another spot that might have a spring. If we go now we can-”
Graupel interrupted his rambling. “Come on, exile, it’s sunset. You failed. Let’s get back to Nimbus and let King Tyrannus know.” She realized she hadn’t even learned his name. She almost felt sorry for the pegasus. Almost. Graupel decided that her pity was getting the best of her, and that she felt more sorry for the lack of water than for the pony in front of her. She flapped her wings and again hovered above Bucephoron as they walked back to the path. During their trek back to Nimbus, she continued poking fun at him for his flightlessness, though it was more lighthearted now.
As the sun sank fully beneath the western mountains, the two pegasi walked back to Nimbus. By now, Bucephoron was no longer disappointed. His desperation to find a spring in the last few hours had given over to anger. He was angry that his talent had left him high and dry when he needed it most. He was angry that Nertia had given him false hope, probably seeing him as a mere plaything. He was angry at Tyrannus for giving him so little time and space to search for a spring. He was angry at Graupel for continuing to insult him. Currently much of his anger was focused toward Graupel as she had kept pestering him during the entire walk back to Nimbus. Outside the town gate, his seething anger finally got the best of him after Graupel made another wisecrack.
"You know what? I am sick and tired of your insults Graupel!" Bucephoron burst out, his face turning a deep red and his wings fully extending.
Graupel turned to Bucephoron. She belied a shocked expression for just a moment, before her face returned to its natural state. Her smug expression only infuriated Bucephoron even more. "Oh, what are you going to do about it?" She also extended her wings and hovered for a moment. "You can't even fly. You can't even find one measly source of water," Graupel said in a sing-songy tone.
Graupel’s taunt struck Bucephoron deep. He had beaten himself up throughout the day as every time he was sure he would find a spring, and every time his hopes were rebuffed. If he could not even find a spring now when he needed to most, Bucephoron thought to himself, what good was he at all? As self-doubt crept its way into his mind, Bucephoron fought against it. No! He tried his best, and had found his talent! There would be other chances. There had to be! As his courage returned, it channeled itself into a blind rage. He had felt this rage before, years ago. It was that same rage that had made Bucephoron lash out at the other fillies and colts and had gotten him kicked out of Nimbus in the first place.
She gave Bucephoron a mock pout, "and I thought that finding water was your special talent." Bucephoron had had enough. Before she could react, he bucked his hind legs. They connected square on Graupel's jaw with a loud crack. She went dazed and fell to the ground with a soft thud.
Bucephoron slowly calmed after his furious outburst and took a look at Graupel. She lay knocked out in the dirt. As he calmed, Bucephoron saw Graupel’s body limp on the ground and began to panic. They were right outside the gate, and the townsponies and Tyrannus would probably be coming out to check on their progress now that it was sundown. He couldn't let them see her on the ground and him standing over her. Tyrannus would surely send him to be banished forever, or have him locked in a dungeon... or worse. He had to run away. He would become a hero and return triumphant. Thinking quickly, Bucephoron grabbed the armor that Graupel had been wearing and took her spear. Going out into the forest at night was dangerous. He put on the armor and set out from Nimbus into the wilderness again.
It only took Bucephoron a day to reach the cave where he had gotten his cutie mark. He climbed up the rocky cliff to the entrance and drank from the stream. The flowing water was as crisp as he remembered it. He looked up from the entrance into the sky. The sky was perfectly clear. Bucephoron realized that it had not rained since he had found the cave. In fact, he could only remember a few days since his exile that he had seen a single cloud in the sky.
For a time Bucephoron slept in the cave and only ventured out to forage. He had come to enjoy the cave. In a strange way it had become like a home to him, and drinking from the stream always gave Bucephoron a sense of accomplishment that he was reaping what he had created with his own four hooves.
At night Bucephoron would sit at the entrance to the cave and stare out at the forest and the night sky. The soft light shone white on the cave floor, illuminating Bucephoron’s white coat against the darkness further inward. Looking out onto the tranquility and beauty of the night comforted Bucephoron. He cleared his mind of the lingering shame and doubt that had returned after he fled Nimbus for the second time.
But soon Bucephoron grew lonely with nopony else around. As the days dragged on, he would spend longer walking down the path, hoping to pass by a traveler or wandering merchant. He longed for anypony to talk to.
One night, Bucephoron sat alone at the mouth of the cave looking up at the moon. Bucephoron looked out into the moonlit sky and sighed. By now he had seen this view of the forest dozens of times, and it no longer gave him comfort. Now the scene only emphasized how lonely Bucephoron had become with nopony to share it with. He looked down at the stream. His reflection stared back with weary eyes. He sighed yet again and dipped his head down to drink from the stream. While other nights the crisp taste of the water helped to clear his thoughts, this night it only clouded them with visions of his failure. Bucephoron slinked back into the darkness of the cave and lay down to sleep. His mind continued to churn with loneliness and doubt.
He lay on the stone floor looking out toward the entrance. Even though he closed his eyes and tried to drift off several times, he could not sleep. Bucephoron’s thoughts troubled him, and while attempting to fall asleep he sought a way to get rid of them. After hours of thinking, Bucephoron resolved that the only way he could rid himself of his current depression was to leave the cave and wander elsewhere. The cave, while familiar, now reminded Bucephoron more of his exile than as the place where he got his cutie mark. He had not even used his talent in the past month! With the resolution to leave the cave the next day, Bucephoron finally dozed off to sleep.
Bucephoron rolled over onto his back and felt the warmth of the rising sun on his belly. He scratched his chest with a hoof and stretched as he woke. Only after another five minutes of staring lazily out at the horizon did Bucephoron remember his resolution from the night before. He quickly rolled onto his side and stood up. Judging by his foraging trips, he would need to get an early start if he wanted to reach any other towns by nightfall. Bucephoron drank from the stream and ate the grass and nuts left over from the previous day, then rummaged around the cave for his saddlebags. He picked them up and put them on his back over his armor. The saddlebags had long been empty and felt light on his back as he pulled the strap tight. Bucephoron stepped carefully out of the cave and down the slope to the path. He took one last look at the cave, his cave, and strode off down the path.
The path away from Nimbus led north, deeper into the forest. Bucephoron trotted at a faster than usual gait. Since he wasn’t foraging, he didn’t need to keep an eyes on the trees and bushes beside the path, and this way he could go further than he had ever explored. Bucephoron kept down the wooded path as it wound through the forest. As the shadows of the treetops receded and the sun approached its zenith, Bucephoron came to a point on a riverbank where the path branched off in two directions. One path headed northwest following the river toward the mountains, while the other path crossed over the river to the northeast. Bucephoron stood at the riverbank undecided on which way to go for several minutes. However, something in his gut was telling him to take the left path. Bucephoron shrugged and trotted off parallel to the river. He looked along the riverbank. The riverbed was wide, but the water level seemed very low. The river gurgled as it flowed over large exposed stones in the riverbed. Bucephoron slowed up as he continued onward, taking in the pleasant noises of the forest.
Bucephoron continued walking at a more leisurely pace for another hour before the path crossed the river at a wooden bridge and kept north. Soon the trees thinned out and the forest disappeared to reveal a great open plain. The hills and mountains of the far north rose abruptly along the horizon. Their perpetually snow-capped peaks shone bright white against the bright blue of the sky. The peak of Mount Helicon rose high above the others. Bucephoron kept north, and within minutes he began sweating under the hot metal armor. He pressed onward. After another hour and a half the walls of a town came into view as Bucephoron went over the top of a small rise. His heart leapt. The promise of hearing and speaking to ponies again spurred him on, and he galloped toward the stone walls of the town.
As he neared the town, he slowed as he saw a group of three armored ponies standing outside the gate ahead. They were all sitting beneath the shadow of the wall leaning up against it. As Bucephoron approached, a large earth pony with a coat of red ochre stood up wearily and walked toward him. “Halt, who goes there?”
Bucephoron removed his helmet and told them his name.
“What is the reason for your armor?” The guard pointed at Bucephoron’s barding. Bucephoron grinned sheepishly. He had almost forgotten about it.
“Oh, that. I assure you I am no military stallion. I come from Nimbus. The armor was merely to protect me from any dangers in the forest.”
The guard stroked his chin. “From Nimbus you say? Curious. You are the second pony in as many days to have come from there.”
Bucephoron’s was shocked. He could remember few ponies who ever left Nimbus, let alone who would travel this far away from the village. “What?”
The guard replied, “Yes, another pegasus like yourself in fact. A mare, grey coated and with a pale blue mane and tail. Why, is she a fugitive or something?” the guard chuckled.
Bucephoron shrank at the mention of fugitives. “N-no,” he said. “Look, may I enter or not?” His mind was racing.
The guard looked flustered. “Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry for all the fuss. It’s just such a curiosity to have two ponies arriving from Nimbus.” Bucephoron nodded. “Welcome to Tritopolis,” the guard said smiling as he stepped aside. Bucephoron walked through the gate, but he was still thinking on what the guard had said. The guard’s description was an exact description of Graupel.
Bucephoron walked through the streets and alleys of Tritopolis trying to find the other pony from Nimbus. Trtiopolis was still a small town, but compared to Nimbus it was a veritable metropolis and Bucephoron got lost several times. The streets of Tritopolis were not simple dirt paths but had been paved with smooth stones. His hooves clacked as he walked down the main street. Other ponies nudged past as Bucephoron moved purposefully through the crowds. He craned his neck to get a better view. Most of the ponies were earth ponies, Bucephoron noticed.
After walking to a wide plaza at what he thought was the center of town, he caught a glimpse of a light blue tail swishing around a corner onto a sidestreet. Bucephoron made his way closer to the edge of the plaza out of the general flow of the crowd and ducked down the same passageway. Finally out of the crowd, Bucephoron eyed his surroundings. The passageway was short and led to a dead end. It was also deserted. However, Bucephoron noticed a door in the two story building at the end of the street. His stomach lurched with every step he took toward the door. He had been so wrapped up in seeing Graupel again that he never really considered what he would say when he met her.
Suddenly he remembered he was still wearing her armor, and that he had left her knocked out. What had happened to her? Was she exiled as well, and was that why she had come to Tritopolis? If she had been exiled, her first reaction to meeting Bucephoron again would probably be to return the buck to his face. Bucephoron stood at the door mulling over how he would approach Graupel for so long he didn’t notice when a mare stuck her head out of the second story window and called to him.
“Oi, what’re you standing in front of the door for?” the old mare yelled down at him. Bucephoron didn’t react. He was still lost in thought. “Hey lad, I’m talking to ya! Yer ears working?” Bucephoron still didn’t respond. Suddenly he was knocked from his thoughts when a horseshoe collided with the side of his head. He clutched the impact point with a hoof and winced as he looked up.
“Ow, what was that for?” he yelled up at the mare.
“I was tryin’ ta get yer attention. Worked, didn’t it?” the mare winked at him. “Now then, whaddya doin’ standing around like that?”
Bucephoron blinked. “Oh. I’m looking for a mare that I thought went down this street.” Bucephoron gave a description of Graupel.
The old mare thought for a second. “Hm. Well I didn’t see her come this way, but she might be in the tavern.” The mare pointed at a sign hanging above the door. It had a green lyre in the center that was flanked by two stylized wheat stalks. Bucephoron nodded and thanked the mare. He opened the door and stepped into the tavern.
The tavern was modest, and walled by white stone worn smoother than the exterior of the building. A light green unicorn stood behind the bar at the far end of the room. She waved at Bucephoron as he walked in. “Hello, fine stallion, and welcome to the Lyram Viridi!” Bucephoron was taken aback. He was not expecting the barmare to have such a perky personality. He smiled and returned her greeting and walked toward the bar. As he crossed the room, he heard a shout from the right side of the tavern.
“There you are!” Bucephoron turned toward where the shout was coming from. He saw Graupel walking down the stairs from the inn on the second story.
Bucephoron looked startled. “Me? You were looking for me?”
“Yes,” she replied coolly. He noticed her usual smirk had returned to Graupel’s lips after the brief shock at seeing him. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Bucephoron blinked and his ears went flat. In that moment he could not decide if it was good or bad, but figured it was safer to assume bad “Why?” Bucephoron said warily, ears still against his head.
Graupel trotted over to him. “Well you kicked me in the face and took my barding, for one.” Right, Bucephoron thought as he looked down and realized he was still wearing Graupel’s chest guard. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here,” Graupel continued with a slightly softer tone. She motioned for them to sit at a nearby table.
“Look,” Bucephoron held up a hoof and frowned, “I just want to get something clear right now. You came all the way here to find me, so it must be something important. So I’m guessing I’m either being allowed to return to Nimbus, or Tyrannus has decided that I should be executed or something. So which is it because if you’re here to arrest me, I will fight again and this time, I’m the one who’s more protected.” Bucephoron felt his latent anger bubbling up again as he spoke and pounded on the bronze chest guard.
Graupel shook her head. “It’s neither of those. I’m here on official business but it doesn’t involve you. I came to find you because... because I wanted to apologize. Graupel sighed. “Now can we sit and talk?”
Graupel’s sudden apology left Bucephoron unable to form a response He just nodded and the two pegasi sat down. The unicorn barmaid called over to them cheerfully, “So do you two want anything?” Her perkiness and Graupel’s unexpected apology completely dissipated any anger that was left in Bucephoron. He waved the barmaid away but Graupel spoke up.
“Get me a hefeweizen,” she called looking up. “By the alicorns I’ll need it,” she grumbled to herself. The barmare brought the foamy mug over with her magic and set it on the table. Graupel tossed her some coins and took a gulp from the mug before she spoke again. “When you came back to Nimbus, I first assumed you were a pompous fool. But by the time you bucked me at the end of that day, I could see how desperate you were. And I pitied you, trying so hard to redeem yourself. But I started noticing things after that day. The drought’s kept on getting worse. We’ve had no rain since you ran away again, and the water stores are getting low. Tyrannus tries to deny it, but the fact is that Nimbus is going to run out of fresh water for the crops soon. And then I realized something. You didn’t just want to find the spring for yourself. You wanted to find it for all of Nimbus, didn’t you?”
Bucephoron listened to Graupel’s speech in between her gulping down more of her drink. As she went on, he realized that she was right. A big part of his return was to redeem himself, true, but he slowly realized that some part of him had also wanted to provide water to Nimbus. He thought of his father and mother still in the village, and of the plight that they were now facing and worried. He even thought about the other foals who used to torment him and felt sorry for them. Nopony should have had to starve and suffer like that. There had to be something that could be done.
He watched Graupel through her entire speech and looked solemnly into her eyes after she finished. “Graupel, I promise if there is something I can do to help Nimbus I will find it.” Bucephoron pounded a hoof on the table to emphasize his conviction.
Graupel smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. It was the same conviction that she had seen Bucephoron display at Nimbus. With that drive and determination, Graupel was sure that Bucephoron would find some way to help Nimbus.
The barmaid interrupted the two ponies as she came over to the table. “Anything else I can get you?” the mare asked. Graupel ordered another beer and the mare took her mug away. Bucephoron asked for one too and sipped at it after the barmaid had brought it over.
They sat in the tavern for a while, nursing their drinks. The conversation drifted to smaller talk of how Nimbus was faring and what Bucephoron had been up to. After an hour had passed, Bucephoron brought up a matter that was nagging at him.
“But Graupel, what brought you to Tritopolis in the first place?”
“No, actually. I was sent by Tyrannus to barter for some food from the neighboring towns. I just figured that I might look for you while I was here on the off chance you were here.”
Bucephoron blushed and turned away to look out the window. As he did, he noticed the sun was getting pretty low in the sky. His mind turned to more practical matters.
He called the barmaid over as he took another sip from the mug. “Excuse me, miss, is there an inn near here that I could-” he was cut short as the green unicorn started chattering.
“Oh, certainly, there’s actually an inn right upstairs. Prices for rooms are very reasonable and it’s got lots of open space right now,” the mare said quickly. Bucephoron thanked the unicorn, partially to cease her bubbly chatter. The barmaid bowed and walked over to assist another patron.
“I actually just finished getting a room in the inn when you walked into the tavern,” Graupel said. “If you want I can see if they’ll lay out another straw bed in my room if you can’t pay for your own.”
Bucephoron rummaged through his saddlebags and brought out all the bits he had. A measly three bits clattered onto the table. The barmaid sauntered over. “Oh goody, that’ll be just enough to take care of your drinks.” She walked back to the bar. Bucephoron lowered his head and gave a sheepish smile. Living in the cave for so long, he had forgotten about needing money.
“Thanks.” Bucephoron let out a nervous laugh. Graupel smiled warmly at him, this time only slightly from pity. They continued sipping their drinks into the night. When they had finished, the barmaid took their mugs and they went upstairs to the inn. Graupel got the old mare running the inn to bring more straw into her room. Bucephoron set up a bed across the room from Graupel’s and the two pegasi quickly went to sleep.
As the two pegasi went upstairs, the barmaid continued to man the tavern. As it was now past dark, there was only one customer remaining in the establishment. It was a salmon colored unicorn. The mare wore a thick cloak that draped down to the base of her tail. The barmare went to the patron as she sipped the last of her drink. “Would ya like anything else?” The barmare asked cheerfully. The other unicorn shook her head, staying quiet as she mumbled a response and placed two bits on the table. The barmare frowned and gave her a concerned look, but took the bits and the cup and walked back over to the bar. The salmon unicorn uttered a quiet thank you, donned the hood of her cloak, and walked out into the cold night.
She walked through the quiet dimly lit streets of Tritopolis until reaching the north gate. Silently she walked out of the gate, nodding to the guards as she passed. The mare continued north on the path for a few miles until she was out of sight of Tritopolis. There, she doffed her hood and her horn glowed with a pink aura. Engulfed in magic, the unicorn’s coat lightened from its salmon color to a soft pink, her horn extended, and wings formed at her sides in a flash of white light. Nertia, now having removed her magical disguise, removed the cloak and took off into the cool air with a beat of her wings.
The alicorn flew up and back to Mount Helicon where she and the other alicorns lived. Nertia landed at the mouth of the cave high atop the peak that formed the entrance to the mountain’s chambers. Nertia entered the entrance hall and was stopped by a black figure.
“Is he the one?” The figure stepped out of the light into the natural soft low that pervaded the hall. It was a black male alicorn, with a pale yellow mane and tail that sparked as it billowed. A lightning bolt cutie mark stuck out brightly on his otherwise dark flank. His deep voice echoed around the chamber even as he whispered.
“Yes, he has proven himself to have great determination. And his heart is most certainly in the right place.” Nertia walked over to the black alicorn. The two walked down another hallway to a room on the edge of the mountain. They gazed out over the landscape. Small villages showed as small flickers amid the forests and plains before them.
“Do you think we are making the right decision?” The black alicorn asked.
Nertia turned to him. “I do, Fulgur.”
“But the others here, they oppose the plan. My own sister opposes it.” Fulgur’s head dipped. “Sometimes it is enough to make me doubt.”
Nertia put a hoof on Fulgur’s shoulder. “I have heard your arguments with Bronte. But it is necessary. We cannot continue to deny the ponies out there the ability to care for themselves. We are letting them suffer out of selfish greed, a lust to hold onto a power that should be free to all. If the others do not see this, then we must show them.”
Fulgur smiled and looked at the pink alicorn. “You are right Nertia. We are doing this for the good of all ponies.” The two sat and looked out upon the great hills and valleys below.
The light of the morning sun shone harshly through the window into the room. It bathed the walls in a bright glow, and as Bucephoron awoke the white penetrated the interior of his closed eyelids. Bucephoron shielded his eyes with a leg and rolled over as he abruptly awoke from his slumber. “Ugh, can’t somepony turn off the sun for just a bit longer?” Bucephoron whined face down in the straw.
Graupel, who was already wide awake and sitting on her bed, stifled a giggle. “What, ten hours of sleep isn’t good enough for you?”
Bucephoron begrudgingly lifted his head slightly and looked at her. “I’ve been sleeping in a cave. This is the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.” Bucephoron lay on the straw for another few seconds before grunting and slowly lifting his body up onto his hooves. The two pegasi went down to the tavern together and had a small breakfast of apple slices and cheese. Graupel paid for the meal just as she had paid for the room. They went back up to the room and Graupel began putting on her saddlebags. “You’re leaving already?” Bucephoron asked.
Graupel turned to him. “Yes. Tyrannus will want me getting back to Nimbus as soon as possible. I still need to go get a cartful of oats to send back.”
“Oh, okay,” Bucephoron frowned. Graupel was one of the first ponies Bucephoron had seen in months and the first pony since fleeing Nimbus that he had any sort of acquaintance with. The prospect of further loneliness reared its ugly head in Bucephoron’s mind at the thought of Graupel going back to Nimbus. He desperately wanted to just spend more time with her. But deep down, beyond the loneliness, he recalled the conversation the two pegasi had the night before. If he was going to bring help to Nimbus, he would need to focus completely on his goal. His frown hardened into a steady expression of determination.
Graupel smiled warmly at Bucephoron’s hardened expression. She trotted over to Bucephoron and put a hoof on his shoulder to comfort him. He smiled briefly at her touch. Her hoof moved up Bucephoron’s neck to caress his chin. “Look, I know what you’re capable of, and you’re the only pony I know who has a chance at solving Nimbus’ problems. Tyrannus’s plan has just been to send out ponies like me to get short-term food supplies. But that isn’t going to last us forever, and from what I’ve heard walking through these streets Tritopolis is feeling the effects of the drought as well. We need a true solution and I know you’re our best chance of finding it.”
“Thank you Graupel,” Bucephoron smiled. Just like the night before, she had given him further resolve and confidence. “I promise that I will return one day with some way to get Nimbus through the drought.”
Graupel smiled and finished getting her things all ready for her return trek. She helped put Bucephoron’s saddlebags on his back before replying. “And I promise that I will always be waiting for you.” Graupel gave Bucephoron a quick peck on his cheek before turning and heading to the doorway. Bucephoron’s face went flush and his wings flapped twice involuntarily. She turned back in the doorway one last time and smirked before trotting down the stairs of the inn.
Bucephoron stood alone in the middle of the room slackjawed for a few minutes. After his heartbeat returned to normal, Bucephoron shook his head. He had not realized that Graupel cared this much about him. Now he certainly could not risk returning to Nimbus empty-hooved. He reached down and gave the strap on his saddlebag a quick pull with his mouth until it was tight around his middle. With a steady gait, Bucephoron walked down the stairs, waved cheerily to the barmare, and left the Lyram Vindi.
Bucephoron got as far as the central plaza of Tritopolis before he realized that he had absolutely no clue on where he should be going next. He milled around the plaza before deciding that he would continue to the north away from the town. However, as Bucephoron went along the main street toward the north gate, he noticed a crowd was moving in the same direction. Curious, Bucephoron asked the nearest pony where the crowd was going.
The stallion scoffed at Bucephoron. “Don’t you know? Khresmoi is giving consultations tomorrow.”
Bucephoron was bemused. “Who is Khresmoi?” He raised an eyebrow.
The stallion’s eyes widened in shock. “You mean you have never heard of Khresmoi? She is only the most important unicorn in all the land! Khresmoi is an oracle, bringing us the wisdom of the alicorn Nertia herself!”
Bucephoron jumped at the mention of Nertia’s name. If these consultations were truly coming from the alicorn, he could find out directly from her where his path to greatness should lead him, and how to save Nimbus! Bucephoron started to run off following the crowd, but he caught himself and instead asked the pony a brief question. “Um, where can I find Khresmoi?”
“Her sanctuary is thirty miles northwest of Tritopolis, at the foot of Mount Parneighssus.” Bucephoron thanked the stallion for his information, and before the stallion could return his thanks, Bucephoron was galloping off through the crowd toward the north gate.
Bucephoron squeezed his way through the crowd at the gate and started down the path leading from Tritopolis. Beyond the cluster of ponies still in Tritopolis he found himself wading through a long stream of ponies on their way to see Khresmoi and the oracle. This was difficult, as Bucephoron was still fairly small. He had grown in the long time since he’d been exiled, but most ponies were still half a head taller than him. After pushing his way through a number of ponies and receiving a few angry looks, Bucephoron moved off to the side of the path and galloped briskly alongside the slow-moving traffic.
After going for two miles, the stream of ponies on their pilgrimage had thinned out and Bucephoron had caught up to those who had gotten an early start. His gait slowed and he panted heavily, sidling up next to an earth pony. The pony looked Bucephoron up and down. “Why’re you wearing out your hooves on this trail? If you’re that eager to get to Khresmoi so quick you should just fly over there.” The pony nodded to himself and pointed to Bucephoron’s wings.
Bucephoron gulped and caught his breath. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “I... I can’t fly. My wings... they’re too small.” Bucephoron was still panting a bit and took a canteen out of his saddlebag. The water, which he had gathered from his spring back in the cave, was still as refreshing as when he had tasted it back at the cave. Bucephoron was unsure if this was a product of his thirst or of the water but at the moment he didn’t care. He tilted his head back and filled his mouth with the cool liquid. Swallowing felt good as the coldness of the water rushed through his body.
The earth pony had turned back to the path and was looking straight ahead. Bucephoron’s ears perked up as he heard the pony mumbling, “What kind of pegasus can’t fly? It ain’t right.” Bucephoron’s ears went flat against his head as a familiar feeling rose in his gut. He scowled at the stranger.
Bucephoron tried to calm himself down. He took another sip from his canteen and the water helped satisfy him as it rushed through his body. Bucephoron also reminded himself that it was only a matter of time before he was no longer looked down upon. Nertia believed in him. Even more, Graupel believed in him despite witnessing his desperation and failure. Once they reached Mount Parneighssus he would get Khresmoi and Nertia’s advice and prove them wrong. Bucephoron held his head up and smiled. His pace quickened slightly as he calmed.
It was another sixty miles to the base of the mountain. Bucephoron kept pace with the lead ponies in the group of pilgrims and reached Mount Parneighssus at nightfall. From where the ponies began making camp, Bucephoron could see a circular structure with columns on the edge and a low sloping roof a ways up in the hills. That must be where Khresmoi made her predictions. In the cool night a light glowed from within the structure, along with occasional curls of steam or smoke. Bucephoron looked around at the other ponies who were arriving. They were all laying out straw mats to sleep on for the night. With no bed of his own, Bucephoron walked a small distance from the cluster of other ponies and settled himself down in the dirt. It was softer than the hard rock that he had slept on in the cave, but it was still uncomfortable. He sighed. It didn’t matter. Bucephoron was aching everywhere from the hike from Tritopolis, so he settled his head on the ground and closed his eyes.
Three hours later, a wooden staff embedded itself in the ground next to Bucephoron’s face with a clunk and his eyes jolted open. Bucephoron groaned. Wearily he lifted his head slightly and turned to look where the clunk came from. The staff had punched a neat round hole in the dirt. Behind it Bucephoron saw a set of three yellow-green hooves illuminated by the moonlight. He slowly craned his head upward following the staff. The missing hoof was holding the staff in place. Beyond it was the wrinkled old face of a unicorn mare. Despite the tired look of her face, Bucephoron felt a chill run through him when he looked into the mare’s eyes. The irises were red as blood and she was staring intently at him.
“Are you,” the old mare spoke slowly, “Bucephoron?”
Bucephoron was fixated on the two red eyes. It felt like they were staring deep into him, through him into the very heart of his being. He silently nodded.
“Good. Come with me,” The mare rest the staff on her shoulder and extended a hoof to pull Bucephoron up. Bucephoron felt like he was in a daze, unsure whether he was still dreaming. But he got to his hooves. He looked around at the other ponies camping out on the plain. They were all still asleep. When Bucephoron turned back to the mare she was already starting slowly up the hill, using her staff to steady herself. Bucephoron began following her, but froze as he noticed that her hooves were not making any noise against the path at all. Was this another dream? Unsure, he quickened his pace to catch up with the old mare.
Bucephoron guessed that the mare was the oracle. It would explain her knowledge of his name and her eerie appearance in the middle of the night. But why had she sought him out? As they walked up the hill, he bluntly asked the unicorn if she was Khresmoi. She nodded solemnly. Khresmoi’s silence made Bucephoron’s questioning seem awkward, so he remained quiet for the rest of the walk.
They arrived at the entrance to the temple. Khresmoi picked up her staff and nudged the door open. Bucephoron craned his neck to look inside where the oracle practiced her predictions. The inside was brightly lit with candles and torches around the walls, but the amount of smoke that billowed out of the doorway obscured his view. Almost instantly a sharp acrid smell hit his nostrils. He covered his muzzle with a hoof and coughed.
“What is that?” Bucephoron said around his hoof. Khresmoi shot Bucephoron a look that made Bucephoron shrink before turning back to the door. She took a deep breath, taking in the sulphurous smell of the temple’s interior.
“The smoke arises naturally from the earth at this spot, much like the springs which you dig up.” Bucephoron’s gut knotted for a moment. Another piece of information about him she had no way of knowing. “The vapors help clear my mind to commune directly with Nertia.” Khresmoi cocked her head slightly and cast a knowing glance at Bucephoron with one eye. Even in the soft shade of the night Khresmoi’s blood-red eyes stood out and made Bucephoron feel uneasy. “Nertia was the one who told me about you.” It was as if Khresmoi could sense the questions about her running through Bucephoron’s mind. She turned back to the open doorway and set a hoof over the threshold of the doorway. “She said there was something I that I should convey to you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must confer with Nertia. You may wait out here for my return.” Khresmoi entered the temple and shut the door. The soft click of the door resonated for a moment before the silence of the night returned.
Bucephoron sat at the side of the path staring intently at the temple door. All thoughts of sleep had disappeared from his mind as he thought about what Nertia could possibly want to tell him. Bucephoron hoped Khresmoi and by extension Nertia would tell him where to go on his journey, because he had no plan whatsoever. Any guidance or direction would help him right now. He waited for what felt like hours.
At least Bucephoron heard a creak from the door of the temple. He stood up and leaned toward the door as Khresmoi exited the temple, smoke pouring out of the doorway around her. She walked up to Bucephoron. Bucephoron’s eyes shimmered against the light coming from the temple as Khresmoi stood in front of him He was about to let the burning question loose from his lips, but Khresmoi silenced him. This particular prediction, she explained, could not simply be told. The act of relaying Nertia’s message was done through her magic.
Khresmoi’s horn glowed with a bright blue aura. She closed her eyes and her mane billowed like a flame the same color of the aura around her horn. When Khresmoi’s eyes opened, they had gone from the piercing blood-red to a pure white. Her voice boomed as she spoke. “Rise, Bucephoron! You must rise and reach higher above the earth than any pegasus has before! Only there will you find the solution to your woes.”
Bucephoron merely watched in awe. It was as if Nertia was speaking directly through Khresmoi to him.
The light that appeared to be radiating directly from Khresmoi’s mane faded, as did the aura around her horn. She blinked and her eyes regained their blood-red irises. It took a moment for Khresmoi to fully return to her previous self, but as soon as she saw Bucephoron she snapped back. She had Bucephoron repeat Nertia’s message to her to ensure that he had received it. “Good. Now go.” With little fanfare Khresmoi slowly made her way back up to the temple.
Bucephoron and the Chimera
Bucephoron walked back from the path leading up to the oracle. Despite it being the middle of the night, Bucephoron was no longer tired. The excitement of Khresmoi’s revelation left Bucephoron wide awake. He paced around the entrance of the camp where the other ponies were sleeping. What did Nertia’s message mean, he must reach higher than any other pegasus? He looked back at his wings and sighed.
A dark thought crossed Bucephoron’s mind. Could Nertia be playing him for a fool? There were plenty of stories of how the alicorns considered normal ponies beneath them and manipulated them for fun. She had gotten his hopes up back in Nimbus only to have him fail in desperation. Maybe this was another one of the alicorn’s little jokes, giving Bucephoron a prophecy of hope and leaving him to flail about trying to fulfill it to her amusement. Bucephoron did not know whether to be more angry at this possibility or to kick himself for falling for it in the first place. He looked back up toward the oracle and shook his head. He did not know what to think anymore. Bucpehoron went over his thoughts and decided that no matter what, his first task should be at least to clear his head. Bucephoron looked up at the moon, clear and bright in the sky. A wave of exhaustion washed over him again. He walked back to the spot where Khresmoi had found him sleeping and lay down on the dirt.
The sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains as Bucephoron awoke to the bustle of the crowd. Other ponies, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns alike, were milling around the area. Many of them were rolling up the mats they slept on the previous night or getting food or drink from stalls set up around the camp. Several ponies had moved to line up on the path, and Bucephoron found himself amidst this crowd. He gathered up his belongings in his saddlebags and began pushing his way down the path away from the mountain. Once ponies noticed the armor he was wearing and the spear on his back, they gave him a wide berth and allowed him to progress down the mountain with little fuss.
Bucephoron looked up at Mount Helicon. The slope of the mountain seemed steep even from the foothills. The grey rock face loomed above him as the trees thinned out a short way up. As he squinted, the top of the peak seemed to be lost in the vastness of the sky out of range of his vision. Bucephoron's eyes strained as he tried to focus on the peak. The strain hurt his temples and he felt his chest tighten. His vision started becoming blurry and he had to rest for a moment. Bucephoron sat down and took deep gulping breaths. He realized he had been holding his breath while focusing. After he had recovered, Bucephoron took a hard look up the side of the mountain again and began climbing.
After a week of climbing, Bucephoron had reached a forested region of the mountain. The armor was big for a young stallion such as Bucephoron and sat heavy on his back, but he continued wearing it just in case he ran into a wild animal.
Bucephoron's gait slowed the further into the forest he went. The trees were different from the ones in the forest around Nimbus. Rather than deciduous trees, the majority here were pines and firs. Fallen needles were scattered around the ground and crunched under Bucephoron's hooves. There was no real path here. He wondered how often the alicorns ever came this far down the mountain. Until the recent visits to him by Inertia, he had never heard of the alicorns interacting with regular ponies in recent memory. But there was the oracle, so they must have occasional contact.
As Bucephoron was pushing his way through the underbrush, he came to a large clearing. Thick evergreens surrounded the clearing, blocking out much of the sunlight entering the patch of needles and dirt. Bucephoron looked around warily as he stepped cautiously out of the trees. The soft earth beneath Bucephoron's hooves became hard. Each step crackled as the dirt gave way to a hard gray material. Bucephoron looked down at his hooves. Underneath the needles, the ground was a deep black, and left black smudges on his hooves.
Bucephoron sniffed the air daintily. A faint smell of a fire reached his nose and mixed with the scent of the pine trees around him. Bucephoron stepped further into the clearing. The caustic smell grew stronger and overwhelmed all other scents. When he was almost to the center, he started coughing. Tendrils of smoke wafted into his nostrils.
The crack of a branch near the opposite edge of the clearing made Bucephoron freeze on the spot mid-step. He lowered his hoof slowly as his eyes darted around. The thick forest beyond revealed nothing but darkness. His hoof rested on a bald patch of ground. He slowly lowered his head to get a closer look at what the ground below him was, while keeping an eye on the far edge of the clearing. The clearing was floored with small black chunks of charcoal and burnt, blackened pieces of wood.
The entire clearing was littered with a layer of charcoal above the dirt. Bucephoron drew his head up again and peered into the forest ahead. Another loud crack emanated from the trees. Bucephoron started and took a deep breath. That was a big mistake. He inhaled more charcoal dust and smoke and went into another coughing fit.
It took another minute for Bucephoron to clear his throat, but at last the burning sensation went away. He stepped forward toward the other side of the clearing. He could see smoke now, coming out of a large gap between two massive evergreens. He glanced around. The path that he came through on was the only other entrance into the clearing.
“Hello?” Bucephoron said. Suddenly he realized how alone he was. The only noise was the hissing of the smoke. But if there was smoke, there had to be something there. He peered into the darkness. A large shape was barely discernable, but Bucephoron could not make out what it was.
Suddenly, through the smoke, a glowing red pair of eyes appeared. And then another smaller pair appeared above them. A low growl arose from the forest. “What’s out there?” Bucephoron stepped back a pace. The growling grew louder as the pairs of eyes continued staring. Gradually, the creature resolved itself and stepped forward into the clearing.
The paws and snout of a lion materialized from the darkness. The creature moved toward Bucephoron slowly. Its gaze still focused intently on Bucephoron. Smoke rose up from the creature’s snout. With every exhalation, a low growl rumbled from the creature’s chest and a steady stream of smoke puffed from its snout. Bucephoron continued to slowly back away. The creature crept forward, and the source of the other pair of eyes was revealed. The head and neck of a goat rose straight up from the middle of the lion’s back. As it continued forward, the tail of the creature curved above over the goat head. At the end of the tail was the head of a snake. It’s mouth was wide open and it hissed angrily at Bucephoron.
Bucephoron gulped. It was a dreaded chimera. He looked around at the charcoal ground covering. “Oh, um, did I disturb your nest?” The slits of the lion eyes stared him down.
The chimera crouched, pushing its goat head forward. Bucephoron and the chimera stared at each other. Bucephoron slowly crept back, but the chimera remained unmoving. One moment, the goat head let out a loud, short bleat. Bucephoron jumped back at the sudden noise and reared up on his back hooves. Suddenly, the lion head of the chimera ducked, and the middle goat head sprayed a breath of hot flame out toward Bucephoron. He barely had time to shift his weight onto his left back hoof and dove to the right to avoid the incoming fireball. Bucephoron yelped at the intense heat of the flame as he dodged it. He quickly recovered his balance and stood up. The chimera was turning to face him.
Bucephoron looked back at his saddlebag. Thinking quickly, he retrieved the spear with his mouth and whipped it around, brandishing the solid metal tip. The chimera lunged at Bucephoron. He planted his back hooves into the ground to solidify his stance, and turned his head to maneuver the spear to face the chimera. The chimera charged and bore down on Bucephoron with a loud roar. It brought its left forepaw back, extending its claws as it prepared to swipe. In one movement, Bucephoron darted to the creature’s right and whipped his neck to pierce the side of the chimera with the spear.
The spear tip flashed as it whizzed through the air and struck the chimer with a thunk. But instead of piercing the chimera’s flesh, it scraped along the beast’s thick hide. The spear handle jerked violently and dislodged itself from Bucephoron’s mouth. It flew off to the side and clattered on the ground. Bucephoron stumbled as his head reeled from the awkward movement.
The chimera yowled as the spear struck its shoulder. The goat let out a quick burst of flame that burned the needles atop one of the trees at the clearing’s edge. Bucephoron rushed over to the fallen spear in preparation for the chimera’s next attack. However, he caught a glimpse of its side, shaded orange in the reflection of the flame. The spear had barely made a scratch in the vicious creature’s hide. He would have no chance of slaying the chimera. Bucephoron looked back at the edge of the clearing. He was only twenty feet away. If he could reach the path, he could try to find some other way up the mountain.
He turned back to the chimera. It was lowering its lion head in preparation for another burst of flame. Bucephoron picked up the spear in his mouth and turned to face the chimera. As the goat head bleated, he turned and hoofed it down the path out of the clearing. The chimera roared furiously as it searched around for him. He kept running blindly down the path until the chimera’s growling was muffled to nothing by the thick forest. Once he was far enough out of reach, Bucephoron stopped to catch his breath and looked back down the path. His heart was pounding, but he guessed he was safe. He walked cautiously down the path, wondering what other creatures lurked in the forest. As his heart calmed, he noticed that his hooves ached. He brushed aside some needles to clear a soft patch of dirt at the side of the narrow path and set his saddlebag down close to him. He nestled down to rest, but did not dare take off the armor and kept the spear close by. Bucephoron closed his eyes and tried to sleep. His exhaustion from the fight soon overwhelmed his fear, and he drifted off.
Bucephoron woke at dawn the next day and began making his way around the forested paths surrounding Mount Helicon to find another way he could make his way up the peak. He searched for weeks, but each time he found a path, it would stop at a dense part of the forest or at a sheer cliffside. Bucephoron hung his head as he encountered yet another cliff. He turned and glumly looked at his wings. If only he could fly. He sullenly walked back down the base of the mountain.
A few days of wandering led Bucephoron to the village of Oropedeia, near the bottom of the network of roads on the north side of Mount Helicon. The village was small but crowded. Ponies of all types wandered the streets, but they parted as Bucephoron walked down the path. He stopped in an inn. As bucephoron entered, the dining area went silent. The innkeeper rushed up to Bucephoron. He looked around.
"Why's everypony so quiet?" Bucephoron asked, bemused by the reaction he received.
"It is an honor to have your presence here." The innkeeper said, bowing.
"What?"
"You do not know?" The innkeeper was shocked. "You are the pegasus who challenged the chimera, yes?” Bucephoron looked around and gave an uncertain nod. “That monster has plagued our lands for years, burning our fields. We do not know why the alicorns sent it upon our peaceful village. But you! You have dared to fight it and returned in one piece! Not even the greatest stallions produced by our village have been able to go up to the mountainside and attack the chimera!"
Bucephoron beamed with pride at the accolades being poured on him by the innkeeper. He did not expect word of his fighting the chimera to spread, or for it to get him such a welcome. He had only encountered the chimera briefly and run away, not done anything heroic.
The innkeeper went over to a table and bade Bucephoron follow him. "I insist that you eat here. I will fetch you a plate of hay." Before Bucephoron could object, the innkeeper trotted off to the kitchens.
Bucephoron slid the saddlebags off his side and set them on the ground along with his helm. The edges of the armor chafed at his sides and back. His helm was dirty, and several splotches had lost their sheen as the dingy green color of rust invaded the orange edges of the copper helm. Perhaps he could find a blacksmith somewhere in the village to restore the armor and make it fit him better.
As Bucephoron set the helm down, he was mobbed by a crowd of eager ponies. They were all offering to shake his hoof and praising his courage for facing the chimera alone.
“We are so grateful for you challenging the chimera,” one of the citizens said gleefully. “Now the village knows that somepony can at last stand up to the creature.” The other ponies surrounding Bucephoron nodded in agreement.
“Yes, the village will be safe soon,” another added.
“We can finally have a bountiful harvest without fear of the chimera coming down to the fields and burning our crops. The closest villages are over a day’s journey away. Relying on them for imports has been difficult, and we’ve had to ration out our food.”
“But finally, a champion has arrived!” The pony in the middle of the crowd proclaimed. The rest of the crowd let out a visible sigh of relief. It felt as if a great breeze had blown through the inn and taken a heavy burden off of everypony’s shoulders.
Bucephoron looked around curiously. He could see where the fawning over him was headed, and grew nervous. “Excuse me, but I only accidentally ran into the chimera on my way to Mount Helicon. I was not trying to defeat it.”
The crowd did not hear him, or at least it seemed like they didn’t. They carried on about the inevitable defeat of the chimera and his protests went unheard. Bucephoron sighed and scowled. They were heaping unworthy praise on him for doing nothing but surviving an attack by the chimera. And now the villagers were insisting that he would be their hero and take on the horrendous beast again, and this time defeat it. The mere thought of taking on the chimera again sent a burning tingle down his back that reminded him of the singed hair the beast had left him with after their encounter. He was just trying to reach the top of Mount Helicon, not defeat the chimera. As soon as he found another way up the mountain, he would leave the village and go up that path. It was undoubtedly easier than facing the chimera again.
And yet, as the ponies of Oropedeia continued to shower him with praise and thank the alicorns for their good fortune at him stumbling upon them, Bucephoron could not help but feel sorry for them. Were these ponies any less worthy of being helped than the ponies suffering from the drought in Tritopolis and Nimbus. Of course they weren’t. In fact, Oropedeia probably had it worse. With the chimera terrorizing the village they now relied on food from other villages. With the ongoing drought, the amount of food that could be afforded to export to Oropedeia was likely growing scarcer and scarcer as well. And now they had their saviour, he thought. As he mulled it over, Bucephoron realized he did not want to let these ponies down. Surely he was capable of defeating the chimera. If he intended to reach the top of Mount Helicon, he would have to be able to defeat the chimera. Confidence swelled within him as he brought himself up from the table.
“I shall do it!” Bucephoron loudly proclaimed to the crowd of ponies. “Give me a few weeks, and I will come up with a way to defeat the chimera.” A resounding cheer filled the inn, and Bucephoron suddenly realized the task he had set himself. It was daunting, but he could do it. No, he had to.
The innkeeper came back with a plate piled high with hay. Bucephoron’s stomach cried out with joy as he saw the hay. The innkeeper set the plate down on the table and he looked around quizzically. “What’s with all the commotion. I do hope that these ponies haven’t been giving you any trouble.”
“Oh no, not at all.” Bucephoron replied. “I was telling them how I was going to defeat the chimera.” Bucephoron bent down and scooped up a large bundle of hay in his mouth.
The innkeeper gasped, shock and delight running across his face. “You will? O, what a joyous day.” The innkeeper nearly galloped off back to the kitchen. Bucephoron smiled as he watched the innkeeper leave. Was that really all it took for ponies to admire him? He started to imagine the veneration Oropedeia would give him if - no, once - once he defeated the chimera.
Bucephoron waved away the crowd of ponies, after again assuring them that he would rid them of the chimera. He chewed each mouthful of hay slowly and deliberately as he thought. He had to come up with a plan of attack against the creature. Bucephoron had acted on instinct during his first encounter and had charged recklessly at the beast. The tingling feeling cropped up against on his back and reminded him of how that had gone. He needed a way to counter the spitting flame. Bucephoron wracked his brain as he ate. However, his brain was as devoid of ideas as the plains around Tritopolis were of rainwater. Not even a trickle emerged from his thinking. He looked down at his empty plate and saw the reflection of the moonlight.
Perhaps a night’s rest would freshen his mind. He called for the innkeeper and set a few bits on the plate. The innkeeper protested, but Bucephoron shoved the coins at the stallion’s chest until he agreed to take them. He paid for a room upstairs and again had to thrust a number of coins at the innkeeper as the pony’s objections bubbled up again. Bucephoron felt a headache coming on and nearly demanded the stallion take the money. The innkeeper finally relented though and took Bucephoron’s money. Relieved, Bucephoron carried his saddlebags wearily up to the second floor of the inn and collapsed on the bed of straw next to where he had set his saddlebags and armor.
The next day, Bucephoron was snoring soundly when the morning sun so rudely interrupted his dreams. He put a hoof over his eyes as he opened them and slowly raised himself off the straw. He leaned down and stretched out his back. Bucephoron did feel well rested after the events the previous night, and sat down at the window looking out at the village to collect his thoughts. The village of Oropedeia was nearly entirely laid out before him. It was small, even smaller than Nimbus. Only one main pathway led through the village, and on either side it was only a few buildings thick before the small urban spot faded out into the dense forest on one side and the scant fallow fields on the other. The ponies of Oropedeia were already going about the village despite the sun only just having risen. The inn was on one end of the village, and a small empty space further down the road signified the plaza that was the center of town.
Bucephoron went back over to the lump of straw that was his bed and bent down to collect the breastplate and helmet. The sun shining through the window reflected off Bucephorno’s armor. It was not the shining glint of a clean set of armor it had been when Graupel had worn it. Over his long travels and frequent wear, the gleaming copper and bronze surface of the helm and breastplate had faded to a dull orange. Black grime and rust was beginning to creep its way into the metalwork from the edges. Even just from picking it up, a visible coat of dust was covering the breastplate. Bucephoron held the chest piece in his hooves and looked at the crest on the center. It was a red and blue shield emblazoned with a golden horseshoe. Flanking the shield were two outstretched wings, sky blue in color. It was the crest of Nimbus that proudly gave the town its identity and spoke to its pegasus heritage. But now, the dirt and dust defiled the piece and dulled its colors. Bucephoron frowned.
Bucephoron gathered up the armor. He thought about donning it for a moment, but remembered his intention to take it to a blacksmith. He hoped there was a blacksmith in this village. He slung the armor over his back so they rested on his saddlebags and trotted down the stairs.
The innkeeper was laying out logs in the great hearth that dominated the large entry room of the inn’s ground floor. “Sir?” Bucephoron called, walking up to the innkeeper. “Is there a blacksmith in this village?”
The innkeeper rummaged in the hearth a second longer then looked up and blinked. His terra cotta coat was splotched with black soot. He smiled pleasantly after recognizing Bucephoron. “Ah, yes, certainly. Go down the road and it’s one of the buildings on the side of the main plaza toward the mountain.”
“Thank you,” Bucephoron bowed his head slightly. The innkeeper turned back to the hearth. Bucephoron left the innkeeper to his work and trotted out the front of the inn. He turned right and headed down the small path that served as the village’s thoroughfare toward the plaza. The plaza up ahead, like the path, was dusty and uneven. There was no proper paving or smoothing like he had found in Tritopolis and even Nimbus. Bucephoron’s hooves had become strong from his travels, but they still complained at pawing the Oropedeia roads. Bucephoron ignored the feeling and entered the plaza, looking around at the signs on the surrounding facades. The town hall, a meager two story wooden building with a small bell tower jutting up from above the large doors, was on his right. Bucephoron looked up at Mount Helicon to the left and trotted across the plaza. Across from the town hall he found the craftspony shops he was looking for. A sign with a frothy beer mug indicated a tavern on the corner of the plaza. Next to it was a farrier, and next to that he finally found the sign with an anvil; the blacksmith. Bucephoron whinnied at this progress and opened the door of the small shop.
The shop was dark aside from the soft red glow of the furnace on the left wall. “Hello?” Bucephoron called into the darkness. His throat stung with the faint air of smoke the permeated the room.
A pony stumbled out of the darkness from the back of the shop. “Oh, hello,” he said in a deep, hoarse voice. It was an earth pony with a rust colored coat and an anvil emblazoned on both his flanks. “What can I do you for?” The pony said before coughing loudly..
“I need someone to repair and clean my armor. It’s gotten pretty rusty.” Bucephoron nodded back toward his saddlebag where the dirty helm stuck out of the open top.
“Hm,” the blacksmith said thoughtfully, “sure, I could fix up your armor for you.”
Bucephoron took the armor out of his saddlebags and laid it out on a nearby table. "Thank you. How much do I owe you for your service?"
The blacksmith eyed the armor, poking at it with a hoof. He scraped a hoof along the chestplate and sniffed it. "Hmm, it's pretty rusted. Might be a few days of work. I'd say fifty bits, traveller."
Bucephoron grunted. He didn't have near that kind of money on him. He hesitated a moment. "Look, I don't have that much on me..." he pawed at the floor and hung his head. "But, what if I said I was going to kill the chimera that's been attacking Oropedeia. I just need that armor fixed."
The blacksmith pony raised his bushy tan eyebrows. "Well sure, if you can defeat the chimera then I'd gladly repair it. But still, it’ll take a few days. What you've got there is practically rusting straight through!" The blacksmith pointed at the armor with disdain.
Bucephoron thought for a moment. "What if I were to help you around here?" I've tried my hand at metalwork a time at my father's shop, and that could free you up to work on my armor."
The blacksmith scratched his chin with a hoof and looked Bucephoron up and down. After a long pause, the blacksmith smiled. "Sure, you look like a strong pony. I could use a hand around here."
Bucephoron beamed. His heroics, even more his not-yet-heroics, was gaining him respect and rewards from the townsponies. He happily went to work hammering horseshoes and fixing all sorts of metal odds and ends for the ponies of Oropedeia.
He worked at the blacksmith's for three days while the blacksmith fixed up his armor. He had been so caught up in this work that he had not formed a plan to defeat the chimera. However, on the final day, a pony came in asking for a molded lead plate. As he was heating the lead to pour into the mold, Bucephoron got an idea. The molten silvery substance flowing into the flat iron surface reminded Bucephoron of the chimera's ability to breathe fire.
Later that day, the blacksmith brought Bucephoron his armor. Even in the dingy confines of the blacksmith shop, Bucephoron was amazed at how much his helm and breastplate gleamed. The fire of the furnace were a radiant orange on the smooth copper armor. It gleamed as if Bucephoron were watching a beautiful sunset inside the shop.
“You have done me a great honor," Bucephoron said staring into his helmet. He put it on his head and sighed with happiness. It no longer rubbed at his ears as it had before.
"I noticed it wa a tad small for a pony of your size," the blacksmith smiled, "so I also reshaped some parts to make it fit better."
Bucephoron strapped on the chestpiece of the barding and felt a well of confidence rise up in him. "I'm ready to face that chimera now," he said boldly. "Thank you sir. There is just one more thing I need of you before I can slay the beast."
"Anything, if you'll rid us of the chimera."
Bucephoron nodded. He went over to a small iron mold with a diamond shaped impression in it. Bucephoron took the cauldron of lead he had simmering over the furnace and gingerly tipped it. Silvery liquid trickled into the mold until it was full.
"What are you doing?" The blacksmith peered over Bucephoron's shoulder as he worked silently.
A few minutes later, Bucephoron stepped back and reached for his spear. He undid the binding of the point to the shaft, dropping the spearpoint back into his saddlebag. "I'm refashioning my spear. With this, I can defeat the chimera once and for all." He brought the spear up with the lead point attached and brandished it upward."
Bucephoron gathered his saddlebags and left the blacksmith's shop for the fourth day in a row. This time, however, he did not go back to the inn but trekked west out of Oropedeia on the same path he had taken before. The townsponies watched him curiously. Now fully dressed in his polished copper barding, Bucephoron shone like the great warrior Aethon during the corralling of the Sun.
Bucephoron soon returned to the clearing where he had first encountered the chimera. The forest was deathly silent as he stepped confidently through the blackened stretch of ground. Acrid smoke still tainted the air from Bucephoron’s last battle with the chimera. Bucephoron sniffed the air cautiously. A low rumbling in the distance brought his ears to attention.
The rumbling grew louder and resolved itself into the chimera’s ferocious growl as it neared the clearing, sensing Bucephoron’s return. Bucephoron dug his hooves into the ground in preparation of the beast’s return.
A minute passed as the growl grew louder. Rather than plunging headfirst into the clearing, the chimera slowly and quietly stepped out from the shadow of the trees. Its three heads were all glaring at Bucephoron. As its lion head sniffed the air for Bucephoron’s scent, its six yellow eyes narrowed and its lion and snake heads bared their teeth at him.
Bucephoron stood steadfast as the sun gleamed off his armor. The chimera peered down at him, before every head smirked.
Suddenly, the chimera charged across the clearing, throwing a hot ball of flame at Bucephoron. Bucephoron darted to the side to avoid the incoming fireball and ran around the side of the clearing.
The chimera skidded and continued chasing him as the two ran around the black spot of earth.
“I know I saw it around here somewhere,” Bucephoron thought. He was disoriented from running around the clearing. The armor clunked against his side, but his body was strong yet and the armor no longer chafed. He kept peace with the chimera and continued avoiding its flame.
Suddenly, Bucephoron saw the opportunity he was seeking. A small crag of rock jutting out behind a stand of oak trees. Bucephoron angled toward the trees and dashed behind the undergrowth.
The chimera snarled as it stopped and looked around. Its eyes became slits as all three heads peered into the forest beyond to try and spot the small, agile Bucephoron amidst the general darkness of the forest.
Bucephoron scrambled up the rocky outcropping, hoping the chimera would not see his plan in time. The rock was not tall, barely twice a pony’s height and its top was still the same height of the thicker bottom branches of the taller surrounding trees. However, it was as good a vantage point as Bucephoron needed.
He turned and gripped the shaft of the spear, slowly drawing it from his side with his mouth. Bucephoron turned back toward the clearing, and yelled to the chimera. “Where are you, you mongrel! What, can’t find me when I’m not out in the open?” He shouted through the spear shaft.
The chimera snorted and immediately sharpened its gaze on Bucephoron. He peered through the loose branches at the chimera as it arched its back and prepared to charge.
As it was about to lunge forward, Bucephoron went into a gallop and off the top of the rock. He used one of the thicker oak branches as a springboard to launch himself even higher, and burst out of the top of the clearing just above the chimera’s full height.
The chimera roared as it stumbled back, trying to follow Bucephoron’s flight arc over its head. Bucephoron stretched his wings to give himself as much lift as possible, even though he knew it would not do much good. What mattered was that it did enough. As Bucephoron glided above the chimera, its goat head bleated another ball of flame at him. That was when Bucephoron saw his chance.
In a quick twist of his head, Bucephoron thrust the spear downward toward the blast of fire. It stuck in the goat head’s throat and the beast yowled in pain as Bucephoron landed in the middle of the clearing with a thud. He kept his momentum and galloped to the other end of the clearing before turning back to face the chimera. The beast filled with a terrible rage began to charge him and prepared another fireball. Bucephoron started to flee the next blast, but stopped as the flame sputtered. The goat head coughed as its throat filled with the molten lead of the spear tip that the blacksmith had attached to the weapon. Bucephoron watched triumphantly as the chimera writhed in pain and fell to the ground. After several minutes, the chimera at last lay unmoving. Bucephoron walked up to the creature, and saw that it was dead.
Bucephoron returned to Oropedeia three days later. As he trotted into town, the ponies all swarmed out of their homes to greet him. Bucephoron was overwhelmed by the response of the Oropedeians ponies, and greatly flattered. They heralded him as a great hero and insisted he visit the mayor to proclaim his victory.
“Well, if you insist,” Bucephoron blushed. He let the ponies lead him to the town hall on the opposite side of the main square from where the blacksmith was. The mayor’s office on the second floor of the town hall was spartan, with simple wooden floors and furnishings. The walls were nearly completely bare, except for a coat of arms as high as a pony on the side wall. A portrait of a stern stallion with golden coat and neatly cropped earth colored mane adorned the wall opposite the coat of arms. Between the two wall coverings, the mayor sat at her desk. “Mayor Thera,” a pony stepped forward. Bucephoron recognized the pony as the innkeeper.
Thera lifted her head, her green eyes drooping from fatigue. “Yes?” She asked wearily. Thera jumped when she saw the crowd of excited ponies behind the innkeeper.
“I bring wondrous news!” The innkeeper pushed Bucephoron in front of the crowd. “This heroic pony,” he paused, grasping for the name.
“Bucephoron,” Bucephoron provided after a few seconds of silence.
“Bucephoron,” the innkeeper repeated nodding, “has slain the chimera! We are safe again!”
The tired despondence that had surrounded Thera almost immediately left her as the emotion that had filled the rest of the town at least reached her as well. “You did?” In almost an instant, Thera had crossed her desk and was shaking Bucephoron’s forehoof in her own. “Oh, thank you Bucephoron, for ridding us of that menace. Now the town can rest easily again! What ever can we do to thank you.”
Bucephoron lowered his head toward the mayor. “Oh, you don’t need to do anything, your excellency.” The mayor raised an eyebrow at Bucephoron’s formality. “I just need some time to rest and recuperate here before I move on.”
“Oh, certainly, you can stay here as long as you like.” The mayor said cheerfully.
“Free of charge too.” The innkeeper, standing at Bucephoron’s side still, winked. “I’d be glad to offer the new Hero of Oropedeia a free room.”
Thera beamed at the innkeeper. “What an excellent idea.” She turned back to Bucephoron. “We must hold a parade in celebration of the chimera’s defeat. I will have a medal fashioned that will be awarded to you then.”
Bucephoron’s heart swelled with pride at the idea of recognition for his deed. He smiled warmly at the idea. “Wonderfull. And thank you most kindly for the room,” Bucephoron nodded to the innkeeper.
Three days later, a grand ceremony - grand for Oropedeia, anyway - was held and Bucephoron was paraded up and down the main thoroughfare of the town and around the central square. The mayor presented Bucephoron with a small circular medal that she pinned to his armor. Its pure gold face shimmered in the sunlight. The medal had the heads of the lioness, goat, and snake embossed on it with a silhouette of Mount Helicon behind the menacing chimera. Bucephoron felt his confidence surge as the medal was pinned to his tunic.
Bucephoron remained in Oropedeia for several weeks, and as the town celebrated the defeat of the chimera, his fame spread along the roads and waterways of the continent. Neighboring towns heard of Bucephoron’s heroism, and their kings and mayors sought him out to perform tasks for them. Bucephoron always aided in whatever request was made of him. He wanted to help out the towns, but more and more Bucephoron went on these quests out of a lust for fame and the good fortune that went with it. He would earn several nights of free lodging whenever he journeyed to the town, and he built up more and more rewards and accolades. Before long the days frew shorter and shorter. Even so, the sun still bore down hard upon the lands, and rains were as infrequent as ever.