Star hugged the right wall of the rift. Her hooves found firm footing on the hard-packed scree that filled the bottom of the opening. Another pony brushed by her in the dark, probably Amber or Shine heading to get more leather. Her wingtips rustled in the light movement in the air as he passed, and a shiver ran down her spine. Star had always had sensitive wings, and usually kept them folded and bound at her side, like the other pegasi. But now they were held high, keeping her floating cargo in place as she navigated the winding corridor. Thought the passage had only opened a few days prior, they had already made short work of plumbing its depths, rounding the jagged edges, and filling in the cracks. Space came at a premium in the Depths, and none of it was wasted. The passage was long, almost a shift's trot, but it had only two branches, and so was easy to navigate. Though it was filled with darkness, she did not fear what she might find- she had learned long ago that the Depths held no surprises, only what lay in between the walls of living stone.
She reached the first branch of the passage, a small opening in the rock almost an equal distance to either end. The stoneshapers had laid down a quilt here, and she sat herself upon the soft material. Nothing was soft in the Depths unless you made it so, and any comfort was hard-won. Their cloth was made from their own quills and manes, their leather a gift from their fallen, and bones for their needles. Nothing went to waste- not space, not food, not stone, not their mothers and fathers when they passed from this world. She dropped her wings finally, peeled off her leather shoes, and stretched. Space was at a premium, but pegasi and unicorn alike needed to spread their legs now and again. She had been walking for half a shift now, and the sharp chips and broken stones that made the floor of the filled-in rift were still fresh, and the soft parts of her hooves ached around the nail. From her saddlebag, she pried out a mosscake and began to lunch.
A scant few minutes later, she was back on her hooves with her weightless, dewy burden aloft between her outstretched wings again. She continued onward, passing a stallion and two fillies, all headed back to the main cavern for supplies, surely. Finally, she could see light on the path ahead – 20 minutes later, and she had arrived in the new side cavern, a hive of activity. Two unicorns took turns holding a gem above the scene, filling it with their magic and lighting the space with a dim, pulsing glow. All around, ponies were chipping away at the rock, reshaping it, examining the veins of the earth for telltale signs of ores or water, or, more useful, further passages. Others were constructing new planters, as this surely would become a new space to farm; old cloth and aged nightsoil were layered upon each other, nested with seeds and spores, while one of the few earth ponies overlooked and tried to work their own special magic over the project. If things went right, they could make enough food here for another 10 ponies; or at least more to keep the others happily fed. And that was where Star came in.
Heads turned as she entered the chamber, and while some turned back or mouthed greetings before returning to work, the eyes of the stallions lingered. She knew they would, and she was used to it. Without a blush or a stumble, she trotted up to the nearest rockshaper, a young pegasus named Rain, and set to work. With one wing, she dextrously maneuvered the cloud she had shepherded for over seven hours onto a spot on the floor, and, raising a forehoof, crushed it into shards with a practiced stomp. From a medium-sized shard, she fashioned with her hooves and teeth a chisel. She passed this to Rain, who took it in her hoof and immediately set it into the rock. “Thank you, Star! I hope this one will last longer!” Star said nothing, but smiled briefly, and moved on to the next worker, brushing the bits of cloud along with her. Star was a cloudshaper- and not only that, but the most talented cloudshaper anyone could remember. From the barest wisps of steam and mist, she could carve intricate hooks and mechanisms and the most durable tools and containers... as long as they were used by another pegasus, of course. An earth pony or unicorn hoof would pass right through them like they were nothing more than wet air.
Brightgem, their Librarian, had told them that long ago, before the earth swallowed their ancestors, that pegasi had lived in “the sky”, a place where the ceiling was so high you could never reach it, where light shone down like a thousand sparkling jewels. And in the sky, the pegasi lived in cities made of clouds, taller than any chasm was deep, wider than all of the Depths put together. It was a good story, although Rain had found it hard to believe. It was hard to even imagine something so miraculous; the best she could do was close her eyes and stand under the highest point in the caverns and stretch out, standing on the tip of her hind hooves, and reach her front hooves into the still air. Sometimes, as a filly, she would stand there, on one leg, with her wings spread, and just feel the tiny eddies of the air as it flowed past her, tickling her wings. Her father would always catch her and tell her to stop wasting time, and she knew now that it was a foolish waste. While she would stand in place and dream, other ponies were gathering and drying moss, or turning the nightsoil, or carving stone, or gathering mist from the geysers below into workable cloud. Other ponies were working shift after shift, breaking their bodies in the dark, so that she could live, so that they could all live, so that their foals would have a future.
Without realizing it, she had already used up all the cloud she had brought with her, and that meant she was done for the day. She could head back to the main cavern and lay down on the quilts she had made when her parents had passed, and finally rest for a shift. Realizing her wings were still out, she put them away, and a few stallions gave her disappointed looks. And those eager, hungry looks reminded her that her duties were not done for the day, but they would not begin until she made the long trip back through the new rift, and back to the main cavern. And then she would lay on her quilts, and wait, wait until a stallion was brought in, and she would lay with him, and he would fill her with his warmth, and then he would leave and she could rest. And then she could dream of those cities made of clouds high above, where the ceiling was so high you couldn't reach it- and she would dream of using her wings to lift herself high, high into the sky, and see if she could reach those bright stars she was named for...
Until she would wake up, and it would all begin again.
