“The job of a plunderer is not an easy one, but those who are willing can expect some side effects: a sense of self-worth, a vast knowledge and a new understanding of the world around you, and best of all, riches beyond your wildest dreams...”
Four months later.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I looked out the window into the sky over the slowly illuminating desert, picking up my pace with the slowly rising sun. I knew I was running out of time; I was supposed to be gone by sunrise.
I frantically finished the rest of my packing, leaving strewn all over my bed the various items and supplies that were wait than actually necessary. In the end, all I had packed in my saddlebags was a small canteen filled with the remains of this week’s water ration, a map of the entirety of southern Equestria, complete with railways and roads, a hay sandwich, and a notebook.
As I got all these things gathered and stored into my pack, I reminded myself of the one item that mattered the most. Reaching under the springboards of my bed, I produced a small cardboard box with a thin string holding it closed. Inside the box was the extent of my entire life savings, a hefty sum of no more than thirty bits. Under the modest fortune was the real hidden treasure. I poured the money into one of the side pockets of my saddlebag, taking the small yellow rock in my hoof.
It felt cold to the touch. I tossed it between my hooves, watching the soft sunlight bounce of its surface. It seemed so insignificant; it was just a little rock. But I knew full well that it was so much more: It was the ticket to the rest of my life. Whatever that meant, I wasn’t sure. It sent chills down my spine, filling me with simultaneous elation and dread. My mind visited the night it came into my possession often, bringing with it nagging questions and immense confusion. I beat my brain every day trying to figure out what it all meant.
I spent countless hours in the local library, pouring mind and soul into research, but found absolutely nothing on the subject. The only thing I found was a pamphlet explaining conclusively that ghosts didn’t exist, and a book that stated the houses of the deceased should be avoided at all costs. As far as I was concerned, I was the only pony who had ever encountered anything like that.
I was getting sidetracked. I hastily put the gold with the rest of my money, closing the bag shut with a swift tug of the strap. Saddlebag in position, I trekked out of my bedroom and into the narrow hallway towards the kitchen, holding a single piece of parchment in my teeth.
In the middle of the kitchen stood a dusty looking table, its wooden frame held nothing but its own weight and a now empty bowl that my parents left out for me the night before to drink in the morning. Without a moment’s hesitation, I placed the paper front and center on the surface. I didn’t even care to read over it again, not because it would give me any sentiment, but because I saw the act as meaningless. I didn’t feel any sorrow for leaving my home and my parents, but I couldn’t just walk away and not tell them of my decision.
The old stallion had spoken of a station up the river that was used for shipping ore to the other cities of Equestria back when the town was founded as a mining settlement. I did my research over the past few weeks, and learned that it was still used for shipping, mostly imported goods like building materials and crops from the more temperate areas of the country. It was never used as a passenger railway.
The track did, however, make one stop on the way. There was a passenger station only a few hours down the line. It had various terminals that lead to every corner of Equestria, and beyond.
The plan was simple. I was going to leave home, follow the river to the shipping yard, and hitch a ride on a freighter. I learned from a schedule in the records section of the library that a train would leave about twelve hours from dawn, giving me just enough time to make the long walk from Nickerville to meet my traveling arrangements.
Once I made it safely to the passenger rail, I would use the small amount of money I had saved to buy a one way ticket to Fillydelphia, where I would begin my life anew.
To go through the desert alone was extremely dangerous, but I didn’t serve a very likely chance of succumbing to the elements so long as I kept to the river. I didn’t want to risk getting questioned about others about where I was going, which was another reason I had left home so early on a day off from school.
I had spent several days prior just preparing myself for the journey. It was exciting, but at the same time, I had never in my life stepped outside the borders of my birth town. I was going into a world that I had only heard stories about. It was mindboggling to think about, so I just kept my mind on the task at hand.
Looking around my tiny home one last time, I couldn’t keep the butterflies from making their way into my stomach. A rush excitement ran through my blood; I was finally leaving Nickerville! I had dreamed of this day all my life, and I finally had the means of doing so. I could make a fresh start and find a purpose in existence. I stepped through the threshold of my front door into the warm morning light.
I made a quick pace through the residential area of town, my path fixed on the center of town, where I would meet the river. The town was all but silent, the morning wind bringing a soft echo of the desert to the east. Very few others were about at this hour, save for the shopkeepers and the farmers, who had already begun their long and tedious day. The temperature was already acclimating with the rising sun, bringing with it the oh-so familiar sensation that had burdened me my entire life.
I converged on my destination: the flows that ran straight through the middle of the settlement. I planted my hooves directly adjacent to the river. Furrowing my brow and licking my lips in concentration, I couldn’t contain the rush of adrenalin from shooting through my veins as I began the walk.
I made it through town without any trouble; nopony bothered me or questioned me about where I was going. I was several hours out. The desert sprawled outward in every direction, shaking hands with the sky on every horizon. I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, my excitement had long since been abandoned. It was unbelievably hot, well over one-hundred degrees. It was reaching the heat of the day, and the temperature didn’t show any promise of stopping its escalation any time soon.
Panting from exhaustion, I stared, entranced, at the sandy liquid that flowed the opposite direction. We were told to never set hoof in the river as foals, so as not to contaminate the only source of water for miles. It was so enticing, so inviting, I couldn’t stay away.
It is hard to believe that I had never been completely submerged until that moment of my life. In town, we were allowed one shower a week, and it only lasted for a minute or so. Those were some of my favorite times as a foal, where I would let the warm water fall over my back as I took the short time to let my mind wonder in complete silence.
I placed one hoof after another into the brown flows. It felt absolutely fantastic. Before I knew it, my entire lower half was under as I waded slowly up the stream. It was enough to bring my body temperature down to a comfortable level as I took a deep breath of satisfaction.
I decided that a quick rest wouldn’t be detrimental to my time restraints. I lowered my body, letting the water crawl up my torso. Before I knew it, I was neck deep. Closing my eyes tight, I took a deep breath.
I opened my eyes, and I was in the room again. The Founder was looking at me, the image of his gratified expression fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. Remnants of his cold touch still remained in my soul, making me feel horrified and concerned, yet filled me with a strange comfort.
His face twisted and changed, becoming more sinister and terrifying in my mind’s eye. Pain gripped my chest as if his contact was strangling me. The images began to fade, replaced by a taunting laugh that echoed through the silence.
I breached the surface, gasping for air. It had dawned on me a few weeks ago that seeing his face, his beseeching gaze focused on me, was the only time in my life that I had felt important to anypony. I hadn’t thought much of it, as my mind was plagued with a plethora of other questions that took priority in my mind.
I chalked up the mini daymare I just had to my own overexcited imagination, and decided that was a long enough rest. I clambered out of the river and set back on my northward course.
As per usual, my mind started to wonder not long after my quick swim. One thing in particular was nagging at the back of my brain. The whispering I heard —the voice that lead me to the room in the house—didn’t sound anything like the speech of the ghost. How could he have known anything about me to come to the conclusion that we were so similar? It didn’t make any sense. Was he able to somehow see into my own thoughts? And even so, that doesn’t answer the question as to why the voice didn’t match his, or why he didn’t know my name.
Another oddity resided in the dream I had: The tall, thin figure that had protected me from death in the desert. Was it nothing more than a savior created by my own mind? I had a strange feeling that this was not the case. I had never dreamed of anypony else, let alone somepony that I’d never even seen before.
One of the hopes that I saw in my journey was the satisfaction of my unending questions. I’m sure there must be a more extensive library with information on the subject than the outdated history books at our mining town’s library.
I must have walked a lot farther than I thought. Off in the distance, just above the horizon, buildings came into view. It was still fifteen or so miles off, but it seemed for the first time in a while that my journey finally had a set destination once more.
Infinite lines of iron and wood sprawled outward in either direction like arrows pointing to the farthest reaches of my known world and beyond. I made a wide berth of the building complex, choosing to approach the station from the other side, where I could take cover behind the barn and train cars. I didn’t have any experience with being sneaky or trying to stay hidden, but I was pretty good at making myself invisible, considering I tried so hard during my school days to avoid any pony at all costs. How hard could it be?
The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the red sand that surrounded the weather worn train cars. Taking refuge behind a silo, I scanned the area for signs of life. Nopony seemed to be keeping guard. I figured as much; why would they feel the need to guard train cars in the middle of the desert, when anypony that would come all the way through the desert for some ore would be extremely crazy?
I paused, laughing inwardly at the irony of my own question.
I walked around to the other side of the silo to get a better viewpoint of the situation, and that’s when I caught sight of what I was looking for. On the track nearest to the main station rested a multicar shipping train. The conductors stood strapped to the front of the transport, pulling it into position for departure, facing the east. My heart sunk as I thought for the moment that I was too late, but the herd stopped just short of the edge of the terminal. They individually released the ropes and harnesses from their bodies, and then turned to walk back toward the main building.
Now was my chance.
I bolted from my hiding place. Wizzing in and out of the train cars, I made a break for the train as fast as my legs could carry me. Nopony in sight, I reached the back end of the train. I looked around trying to find a door. Nothing. The next few carts after that were just open containers filled with rubble. I galloped at top speed, passing by several more carts until I came across one with a big metal door on the side. To my dismay, I noticed the steel bolt lock on the handle. I groaned and, short on breath, continued down the line.
My search came to end a few carts down. A huge cart with a solid door yielded my solace. Wiping the sweat off my brow and licking my lips, I made my way move to open the compartment.
“Hey, you! Stop!”
A huge stallion came belting towards me. Unsure of what to do, I ran. I was faster than him, making a huge gap between us. My legs felt like rubber, and I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. Searching ahead of me frantically, I found a bend around the carts of the shipping train. Kicking up as much dust as I could, I jumped over the cable connecting the containers to the other side of the train.
I acted as swiftly as I could, figuring exactly how many seconds I had until I was caught. If they caught me, they would surely send me back home, and I couldn’t face returning to my parents after giving them my note. I noticed a stair step latter on the side of the nearest car. Thinking I didn’t have much choice, I bolted for the latter, jumping up to the top. Not thinking, not looking, I jumped into the bin.
Unfortunately, this particular train car was full. I landed with a painful thud on a pile of very jagged coal stones. Couching and sputtering from the dust cloud that consumed me, I hunkered down on the uncomfortable surface, trying to make myself small and less visible. I cursed my red coat and white mane, which probably made me stick out like a sore thumb.
The Stallion came into view, looking up and down the aisle of cars in my pursuit. I held my breath and prayed that he wouldn’t look up, and that the slowly darkening sky made me look a little bit less colorful.
He paused just below me. I closed my eyes and dug myself even deeper into the ore. I didn’t move or think until I heard the sound of hooves slowly getting farther away.
I instantly regret the deep inhale I took as my lungs were met with an onslaught of soot. My eyes watered as I forced myself to stay quiet.
I noticed the scenery around me slowly starting to shift to the left. It began picking up pace as the wheels below me screeched under the change in motion. My heart picked up speed with the train, knowing full well that once the train started going at full speed, I wouldn’t be able to risk moving from my spot. I sighed. The trip from this station to the passenger station was four hours at the least.
I shifted my position to give me a moment’s reprieve from the painful stones digging into my stomach. This was going to be a long ride.
The sun had set several hours ago, three to be exact. The car I found myself was near the end of the train, well out of the view of the conductor ponies at the front of the mass of steel and rubble. About thirty minutes in, I decided I couldn’t take it anymore, and resorted to standing on my hooves, confident that I wouldn’t be discovered. I tried desperately to stay balanced with the rushing of the train and the strong desert winds, but saw it as a much better alternative to laying in my misery.
I had been standing for what felt like days, when in truth it had only been about four and a half hours since my kind chauffeurs gave me a lift. I was exhausted from trying to retain my vertical position, and was starting to consider giving up and lying back down on the jagged surface. I had to hand it to them, the conductors hadn’t stopped once since we left. For once in my life up to that point, I admired another pony for their fortitude.
I staved off boredom by counting the stars overhead. A feat that was impossible, I had learned pretty quickly. I just watched them, trying to make patterns and shapes by connecting the dots. I had always taken the stars for granted. They hung over my head every night. Maybe I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to realize how truly wonderful they were. I turned to the backside of the train and gazed into the full moon. The craters on its surface sent shivers down my spine. I had always felt like the moon was something to be feared as a child, though I never knew exactly why.
The wind blew steadily and heavily, buffeting my body and filling my ears with an ever present white noise. It was exhausting.Just as I was about to cave in, the wind began to die down. The tracks below started screeching as the carts rocked and shook from deceleration. Turning to look toward the front of the train, I caught sight of dim lights coming into view. I almost screamed in elation, but held my tongue cautiously.
The train pulled into the middle of a dark dusty flat on the outskirts of the outpost. It screeched to a grinding halt, sending me off balance and throwing me forward a little bit in the car. My legs felt shaky from the constant vibration of the train that was now gone. I breathed deeply, and hunkered down in the cart once more, peering over the edge slightly. I waited for several painful minutes with my empty belly pushed into the rocks. After a while, the conductor ponies were walking slowly into the station to the right side of the train. I waited anxiously as the last one made his way inside, then bolted out of the top, down the step ladder, and onto the hard ground below. I ran as fast as I could toward the front side of the station.
I had never seen so many ponies before.
They were everywhere, or so it seemed. This station was the central hub of transportation for all of Southern Equestria, meaning a lot of ponies came through here every day. The open streets and small shacks were packed with colorful bodies, going about their business in a rushed manor. I stood in the alleyway outside the clusterbuck, watching them all in passing. Cautiously, I shoved my way through the crowd, trying to make it to the front side, where I knew the train for Fillydelphia would be departing at any minute now.
I tried desperately to not let claustrophobia kick in, and instead focused on making it to the gates, which were only a few paces ahead. The crowd was pulling me slowly to the left, sort of like how the river would pull me slightly downstream, only a lot less calm and a lot more rude. Voices shouted at me as I was shoved around. I just ignored them and continued on my path.
I came out on the other side, breathless but intact for the most part. Several others filed their way inside the open steel gates, and I joined them. Just as I entered the doorway, a flash of white rushed past me, sending me spinning where I stood. Before I knew what had happened, she had darted into the crowd in front of the ticket booth. I considered calling out to her, but thought against it, as it would be futile with all the noise.
I came up on the booth. An uptight-looking old mare sat behind the glass, not looking up from the filing job she was giving to her hoof. I shed my saddlebags, and deposited all the money I had saved onto the table.
"One ticket to Fillydelphia, please," I sighed, knowing the hardest part of my journey would soon be over.
Looking up from her work, her face lit up as she took the considerable amount of money quite hastily, looking around at all the other clerks. None of them paid her any mind. She dumped it all under her desk.
"Sure thing kid!" she said, handing me the ticket. Her eyes looked over me. "Something wrong with ya? You look pretty beat up and dirty."
I looked at my hooves. "It's nothing, I've just been knee deep in some things that I hadn't planned to get into," I said sheepishly.
I turned to walk the other way as she picked up one of my bits and looked at it like it was tainted.
The air was cold!
I moaned in delight as I rode the crowd onto the train. It was nice and cool in here. Such a refreshment from my daily life. I trotted down the isles, eyeing the ponies in their separate train booths. Each one had four cushions and a table in between them, with a large window painted black from the night. I walked a little further until I found an empty compartment. The door slid open with ease as I stepped inside. I shivered, not only from the cool air, but from the sheer exhilaration I was feeling. It was the next step towards the rest of my life. I unstrapped my luggage and set it on the table nearest the window. Sitting on the soft cushion, I couldn't help but tear up a little bit. It was such a relief after spending so much time laying in that ore cart.
I rested my head on the table. The train would be arriving at Fillydelphia in around five hours. It suddenly dawned on me how tired I truly was, not having any sleep since dawn the day before. I closed my eyes, thinking that a couple minutes of rest couldn't hurt.
"Getting an early start can sometimes be the deciding factor in your survival. The Departed become weaker in the daylight hours, so it's advised that you avoid going in during the night hours. Remember, the early bird gets the worm!"