“That was weird,” Argie mumbled, as she and Rarity stumbled down the last of several hills to the Yellowbrick Road.
Rarity had to agree, but she kept her roiling emotions to herself. Most of her discomfort and fuzzy head were due to the flowers, she hoped, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to justify all the traveling over the past few days. As far as she could tell, the only benefit lay in meeting such wonderful new friends. For the life of her though, she couldn’t come up with a good reason to have left the Punchins.
“And this is where we must part ways, my Lady Rarity,” the King of the Pheasants said with another bow. “I hope fortune smiles upon you and your quest to return home.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Rarity said, nodding to the purple bird.
The entourage of brightly plumed pheasants swiftly made their way back into the meadow of somnorific scents and they were left on the road to Ep once again. After a few minutes of walking in the clear air, Rarity’s thoughts were considerably less fuzzy, if still difficult to make out. Lumberjack walked silently beside her, the delicate metal pieces of her face drawn together as if she looked at a bright light. Smartypants trotted ahead of the little group, quite happy and content now that all of her friends were safe again. Argie half stalked, half tiptoed her way down the road at Rarity’s flank, as if attempting to hide from the city ahead. Opal gazed at the landscape with a supremely bored expression, for the world was allowed to exist around her at her gracious tolerance, of course. The social butterfly in Rarity could hardly stand the silence but she didn’t have the heart to bring up empty banter. She didn’t have long to writhe in the quiet breeze trampled by the cadence of sixteen feet on the bright yellow bricks, however, for they rounded a bend that showed them a most curious sight.
On either side of the road, red buildings stood in the afternoon sun. Little flecks of red paint swirled lazily around the vacant street in the soft wind that pushed various wooden signs, faded from exposure and neglect, to and fro. Wan and mournful squeaking from their rusted hinges lent a surreal air to the ghost town. The buildings, all different sizes and serving different purposes, stood bravely at attention, their boarded windows making them appear as if they awaited a firing squad. Small houses, their walls made of red brick that sparkled like the twinkling of the night sky, waited on smaller side-streets, shutters drawn tight and doors boarded shut.
Rarity slowed in spite of herself, taking in the ghastly sight. “What is this this place?” she asked mostly to herself.
“This is, er, rather, it was Portalston,” Lumberjack answered.
“Portalston?” Smartypants inquired.
“Yeah, a little town on the road to the city. They were mostly farmers, but there were some travellers, like the Whinnies, who don’t like big cities all that much, would stay here when they were done with whatever they were doin’ in the city for the day.”
“It doesn’t look like anypony has stayed here in a long while,” Rarity observed, drawing her eyebrows together with concern.
“Yeah, looks like a few years, five at least, judging by the wood rot,” Lumberjack said, tapping a nearby post of a sagging picket fence. Several pieces of the post crumbled to the ground.
“Where did everyone go?” Argie asked from above. She swooped over the buildings, alighting on the brittle roof of an inn. “It looks like they don’t plan on coming back any time soon.”
“They all probably moved to the city,” Lumberjack mused.
“Hm,” Rarity said, picking up her pace, “something tells me we have the Three Terrible Terrors to thank for that.”
“Do you think they will ever get to go home, Rarity?” Smartypants asked as they walked past the barren fields bordered by rampant hedges.
“I hope so,” Rarity said quietly.
They walked on. Smartypants struck up a conversation with Argie, which was more like a friendly interrogation. Rarity paid only half an ear to it as thoughts still spun in her head, propelled by the breeze like the chips of paint in the empty town. It was hard to latch onto anything important and she felt as if she were constantly missing something that was.
“Are you okay there, sugarcube?” Lumberjack’s strings quietly hummed next to her.
“Hm? Oh yes, I’m... right as rain, darling,” she offered with only a token of confidence.
“Everything will be alright,” Lumberjack assured her anyway. “Ep will know what to do.”
“But,” Rarity objected, biting her lip, “If you’re right, and those ponies left that town five years ago... don’t you think the Dragon would have done something by now?”
The tin mare blinked. “It might not be the right time. He’s always done right by the land, at least as far I know. Maybe he hasn’t done anything for a good reason; what he does and doesn’t do won’t always make sense to everypony, but I’m sure he has his reasons. The way I see it, you can do the right thing at the wrong time, and that can be worse than not doing anything at all.”
“Hm,” Rarity replied with a toss of her mane. “I do hope you’re right, darling.” She gazed up at the great sparkling wall of the city, bathing the road in a pool of rose light. “I do hope you’re right.”
The mass of the city itself seemed to squash all further talk as it stood before them in a halo of red radiance. Scarlet cliffs of gleaming red stone rose from the gentle hills, encompassing the Ruby City within. Delicate crenulations along its rim suggested frozen tongues of flame. Hexagonal towers broke the smooth expanse of its dazzling facade. Purple and green flags streamed at their summits, laid out in full by the winds aloft. Behind the wall, fluted towers and great domes reached for the sky, catching rays from the sun overhead and distributing the light in prismatic generosity. The air around the city hummed with life, thousands of ponies living in one jewel.
It was all Rarity could do to keep walking. “It’s so beautiful,” she breathed.
“It’s so big...” Argie said behind her. The fashionista glanced behind to find the gryphon attempting to make herself as small as possible. Argie gulped. “The Dragon is in there,” she whispered.
“Don’t worry,” Smartypants said cheerfully, “Rarity knows what to do.”
“Of course, dear,” Rarity lied. “Just stay close and nothing bad will happen, I promise.”
The gryphon nodded back, standing a little taller.
Passing into the shade of the towering portcullis, the little group came up to the city's grand gate. The raised outer gate invoked the gaping maw of a terrible creature. Rarity suppressed a shudder; no need to think of teeth and maws. A muted glow softened the shadows as the walls of the deep archway shone with transfused light. Colossal doors of iron and steel stood resolutely shut. Intricate designs in their gleaming panels picked out stylized images of ponies, their eyes set with precious gems. At the apex of the doors, an image of a great dragon, his wings spread wide and scaled visage looking upon the ponies with benevolence, dominated the gate. The eyes of the dragon were two massive emeralds, cut to mimic the serpentine gaze of the city’s ruler.
“Now what?” Smartypants asked bluntly.
“Do we, uh... knock?” Argie suggested tentatively.
“I suppose,” Rarity said, raising an eyebrow at the gate, “but I don’t think anypony would hear if we just knocked.”
“Hey, what’s this?” Smartypants had her back to them, facing the corner.
Rarity joined the inquisitive scarecrow with Lumberjack and Argie in tow. From a small hole in the wall, next to one of the massive hinges, a white silk rope with a red tassel dangled. Above the hole, a sign declared: PULL FOR SERVICE.
“What’s that above the hole there, Rarity?” the scarecrow asked, getting up on her hind legs to get a closer look.
“That is called a sign, dear. It has words on it that give instructions.”
“Words? Like things we say?”
“Yeah,” interjected Lumberjack, “it’s a way of tellin’ folks about something, without having to be there to say it. That’s called writing.”
“Writing... Well that sounds really useful.”
“Oh, yes it is.” Rarity said, allowing a little smile to quirk her lips. "There are things called books that are full of writing. I would bet that the Dragon has a library and that is how he will help you get a brain.” She summoned little magic to pull on the rope. “Shall I?”
“Ooooh, a library, that sounds like fun! Pull the rope, Rarity.” Smartypants danced next to the gate, eager to see the wonders of a library that she was sure lay just on the other side.
Rarity gave the rope a firm tug. Bells cascaded in a brazen chorus behind the gate, startling Argie out two-and-a-half of her feline lives.
Before the sheepish unicorn could console the jumpy gryphon, a blue head poked out of a panel in the gate. It appeared to be attached to a stallion, though he was up above the party and only his face and tidy silver mane along with a rose glow were visible. “‘Ello there!” He called cheerfully. “Visitin’ from without are we?” he lilted.
“Uh, yes. From the east,” Rarity replied.
The blue pony raised his eyebrows. “Ah from the east, eh? Been a while since we ‘ad any from over there. Well, welcome to the Ruby Ci’y ladies, but before I can let you in, I go’a know what’chur business is 'ere in Ep’s ci’idel.”
“Oh, yes of course,” Rarity said graciously, “that’s perfectly reasonable. Ahem, we are here to see the Dragon, if you please.”
He rubbed at one of his ears and blinked at her. “Yah mind sayin’ that again, lass?”
Rarity furrowed her brow. “We... are here to see the Dragon?”
“BAHAAHAAAAAHA!” the stallion roared suddenly, scaring another half of Argie’s lives out of her. The pony in the gate continued to laugh, throwing his head back and pounding on the bottom of the panel with a hoof.
Rarity shared a glance with Lumberjack. “No, really,” she protested over the gatekeeper’s mirth. “We came to see the Dragon, it is very important that I speak with him.”
With every word she spoke, the stallion laughed harder. He laughed so hard, he seemed to almost be turning green. “Please,” he protested between his wheezing gales of laughter, “oh, it’s too much. Hahahaha!” He wiped a tear from his eye with one hoof, snorting and trying to regain his breath. “Now... hahaha, Oh wheee, well tha’ was good, lass,” he managed to say, resting a foreleg on the bottom of his window. “I haven’ had a good laugh in a while there... aughum, hm, but really, yah ought ta be tellin’ me your business here, or I’ll ‘ave to ask you ta leave, hm?”
“I’m serious!” Rarity retorted with an indignant stomp. “I’ve traveled all this way, followed your road, and even slept out in the dirt! We came to speak to Ep, the Great Dragon, and I am not leaving until I have!”
“Allroight, look, it was funny tha last time, but second time around’s pushin’ it. I’ll go easy on yah and let yah come back la’er when you know wha’ you wanna do ‘ere, eh? Sound good?”
“Most certainly not!”
“Hm,” was all the gatekeeper had to offer, slamming his panel closed with a clang.
Rarity sniffed. “How rude.”
“Why was he laughing?” Smartypants asked, her head tilted at the now closed panel.
“Because he doesn’t believe us,” Lumberjack answered.
Smartypants looked at the ground for a moment, then lifted her gaze to the metal pony. “I don’t know why that’s funny...”
“It isn’t, really,” Argie said from between Rarity’s forelegs. “It’s actually pretty scary, these ponies, not showing the proper respect for the White Witch.”
“Darling,” Rarity said sweetly, “what on earth are you doing there?”
“Um,” the gryphon replied sheepishly, “hiding?”
“I thought so,” the fashionista said, stepping towards the gate and leaving the cowardly gryphon exposed once again. “They can’t brush off Rarity that easily,” she grumbled, raising a diamond-shod hoof. The diamond shoe made contact with the steel gate only once, and that was all it needed. Ringing like the brazen bells of before, the whole archway vibrated. Color flashed along the intricate designs cut in the steel and sent a ripple of vermilion light through the iron lattice.
“Oooh,” Smartypants cooed. “That was pretty.”
The panel on the gate swung out, banging into the steel door with a very ordinary and lackluster thonk. Instead of the blue stallion from before, a red, silver-maned pony greeted them with a severe gaze. “Oi! Wha’s with tha’ racket! ‘ow’d you do that?”
“Hello,” Rarity said as nicely as she could muster, “I was hoping you could be ever so kind as to open the gate, please.” She batted her eyes at him, a trick she had learned long ago seemed to make even the most stubborn stallion become putty in her hooves.
Her trick seemed to be working at first. The stallion stared at her for a moment, then shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Hey, thas not gonna work around ‘ere lassy,” he said, narrowing his eyes. This one was made of tougher stuff it seemed. “You decided what your business is ‘ere?”
Rarity dropped her smile and assumed a cold expression. “It seems you have as deplorable a set of manners as your blue colleague.” She said it softly, but loud enough that he most definitely heard the disapproval in her tone. “As I said before, I am here to see the Dragon.”
The red stallion put a hoof up to his face. “Listen lass,” he lilted once again, “I guess you’ve been out in tha sun too long, eh? I’ll open the gate, bu’ only if you promise not to get into trouble. I’m the only gatekeeper here, at the only gate, mind, so if yeh get into somtin’ i’ell be on me ‘ead you know.”
“What?” Rarity asked, thoroughly confused. “But there was a blue stallion there before you.”
“Aye.” the gatekeeper nodded. “‘Twas me, lassy. I’m a prism pony, can change me color, whether I want to or not. Now, come on in, an’ I can tell yeh where you can find some ‘elp with your ‘eat stroke.”
Rarity spluttered. “I have been out in the sun but there is nothing wrong with me. I’m here to see the Dragon. What will it take to convince you?” she asked in frustration, rearing up and putting her forehooves on the gate. As soon as they struck the metal, the archway rang again like a gong as color exploded along the etchings.
“Ayeeee,” the stallion groused, his coat now purple. He rubbed the top of his head, having slammed it into the top of his little window in surprise. “How do yeh do tha...” His rubbing ceased as he saw what was on the white unicorn’s hooves. “Are... are those diamond shoes?” he asked quietly.
“Yes?” Rarity replied, as amazed by his change in color as the strange effects of her shoes on the gate.
At her affirmation, the gatekeeper flushed pure white, even more than Rarity’s own coat—but that wasn’t fair, she had been trounced through woodlands and fear for the better part of two days. “I-I’m terribly sorry lass—I mean, me lady. I’ll have this gate open in a quick, uh, stand back.” And the panel swung shut again.
Rarity backed away from the gate along with the others. “Hm, Selene did say that these shoes would help me get what I need.”
“D-do we really need to see the Dragon?” Argie asked apprehensively. “I mean, there are... lots of ponies in there, one of them could know how to take you home... maybe.”
A monstrous clunk resounded behind the gate along with the rhythmic snick-snick-CLACK of a ratchetting pulley. The left door began to slowly swing outward.
The gryphon stared at the moving gate as if watching a mountain fall on her. Rarity stood next to her trembling friend, putting a reassuring hoof on her shoulder. “Darling,” she said, shaking Argie’s shoulder a little, “if you want to get over this fear you have, you will have to do something about it. I know it is hard, but remember, you have friends to help. You don’t have to do it alone.”
The gryphon let out a pent up breath, her tremors abating under the albescent hoof. “Thanks, Rarity,” she said softly, still staring at the slowly opening gate.
Smartypants teetered to Rarity’s side as Lumberjack took Argie’s other side, giving a friendly nod and a smile to the gryphon. The two in the middle of their group had to squint at the glare that poured from the gate. The scarecrow “oooed” at the city along with an impressed vibrato from the tin woodmare.
“Well, they sure have been busy while I’ve been gone,” said Lumberjack.
When Rarity could finally see, she would have repeated Smartypants’ sentiment, had she any breath to do so.
Out from the open gate, a wide causeway paved in yellow quartz spanned into the distance. Brilliant buildings, shimmering in the sun, stood to either side of the sparkling road. Though there were many of them and each monumentally constructed, the buildings did not crowd the street. Each radiated the air of a grand sculpture, carved with care and dripping with detail. Reliefs and flutes, filigree and embossing, etchings and facets adorned every inch of every edifice. Rarity could hardly fathom the time it must have taken to cut each building. They appeared to be all of one piece, and if they were not, even her trained eye would be hard pressed to find a joint or seam.
“Um, me lady...?” The gatekeeper waved a now slightly pinkish hoof before her. “We'd best be gettn’ a move-on, tha’ is if yeh’d oblige, ma’am.”
The bedazzled unicorn blinked and tore her eyes from the city's splendor to focus on the strange pony. “Oh, yes... Of course. If you could lead the way, I would be ever so grateful,” she said lightly, remembering to throw in a flutter of her eyes.
The prism stallion flushed white once again, his eyes growing wide. “R-right this way.” He swallowed. “I jus’ hafta close th’ gate...” He gestured to the road and stepped aside hastily.
Rarity leaned to Lumberjack as they left the shade of the gate, a niggling buzz in her mind. “Where are we going, again?” she asked quietly.
The metal mare raised a gleaming eyebrow at her before answering in a quiet hum, “We’re going to see the Dragon... to help you get home, remember?”
Rarity furrowed her own brows. “Oh... yes... Home.”
“Are you feeling alright there, Rarity? Maybe the gatekeeper was on ta’ something.” Lumberjack kept her voice down but it writhed with worry.
Rarity took in a deep breath and raised her head. “No, no, I’m fine dear. Just a little tired is all. As soon as I get some proper rest, I’m sure things will clear up. I... I’m just tired... yes. Don’t worry.”
The clockwork pony looked as if she had more to say, but it was swept away by the silver agitation of the gatekeeper’s tail. “Follow me,” he called, setting out to a quick canter. “Th’ Palace is a bit o’ a walk but not far!” He seemed to be assuring himself more than anypony else.
Rarity scooped up Smartypants, the pace set by the frazzled gatekeeper was more than she could handle, and only winced a little at the pain behind her eyes. She followed close behind the currently white stallion, keeping her goal fixed firmly in her mind.
Few ponies walked the wide street so close to the gate, as if afraid of what might come through it. As they cantered deeper into the city, however, the wide street soon filled with colorful activity. Prism ponies filled the stores and stands, turning the street into a living kaleidoscope. Rarity blinked every time a pony changed color. It was rather disconcerting to say the least. More—perhaps normal—ponies, sprinkled throughout the crowd, added to the din. Elegant ponies with delicate horns protruding from their foreheads reminded Rarity of Selene, while other pastel-shaded ponies with wings tickled the back of her memory. She caught a few glimpses of some stocky ponies sporting green coats with ultramarine stripes and even spied the diminutive forms of Punchins on a few occasions.
“Lumberjack,” Rarity said absently, her eyes watching the elegant ponies and their delicate horns of spun glass. “What are these other ponies called?”
“Well, the Steeples are the winged ones, from the north. The ones with the horns are called Triplings, from the south, and the bright green ones are the Whinnies from the west.” She frowned. Small clinks and dings accompanied the subtle shifting of the plates of her face. “Seems like there’s an awful lot of Whinnies here... They don't really like bein’ in cities.”
“I don't blame ‘em,” Argie groaned next to Rarity. She walked with her shoulders hunched and her head down, trying her best to look in every direction at once. “It’s way too noisy here.” She groaned wordlessly. “I can’t tell what’s around me. The buildings reflect everything. It sounds like there’s ponies everywhere!”
“Well, there are ponies everywhere, Argie,” Smartypants pointed out innocently.
The gryphon hunched her shoulders more. “Don’t remind me,” she muttered darkly.
As the strange little party passed the other ponies, a quiet little bubble seemed to move along with them. It could have been Argie; Rarity assumed that gryphons weren’t all that common a sight. Then again, she had to concede that it could have been the sight of a snow white unicorn cantering down the street with a scarecrow on her back, a talking scarecrow no less. It mattered little in the end, for Rarity had a difficult time noticing the perplexed looks from the crowd due to the sight emerging farther down the road.
From the center of the city, the fluted towers of a citrine palace stabbed the sky. Like a generous miser, it gathered the light tossed about by the surrounding buildings and donated even parcels to its surroundings. The darker flecks in the golden-toned walls flickered like an inverted night sky. Four large towers of the more common ruby stood around the palace as if keeping watch, or perhaps gathering around the warm light.
“It is very pretty,” Smartypants agreed.
“Huh-wha...?” Rarity blinked at the scarecrow. “Did I say something?”
Smartypants thought for a second. “Well, at first, you didn’t say much. Then you said...citrine?—I don’t know what that is but then you said it was beautiful and I decided that I agreed.” She shifted on Rarity’s back and held on tighter to her neck. “Even if I think it looks a little too much like fire...” she mumbled.
“It is rather imposin’,” Lumberjack confessed, “but you don’t have to worry, Smartypants. I hear the Dragon is right nice... so long as you follow the rules.”
“Whoa, wait!” Argie scrambled forward, flapping her wings. The gatekeeper threw her a causious glance, cantering forward a little more as Argie began walking backwards in front of the others. “Nobody said anything about rules or even what they were!” she exclaimed, clicking her beak. “For all we know, we’ve broken several already! Ooooh, no! I am not going in there to have some big ol’ dragon fry me to a crisp—”
“Relax, darling,” Rarity had to interrupt, but with only half a mind. “Everything will be fine.” She stared intently at the looming doors of the palace. Where they made of... emeralds?
“Fine!? The only things that will be fine are my ashes!” the gryphon managed to croak.
“Alright, ladies!” called the now yellow gatekeeper as they entered the palace courtyard. “Here we are! Nice knowin’ yeh an’ all. Love tah stay an’ chat but got things tah see to.... Yep.” He cantered in a little circle in front of them, then started for the road again.
“Do you canter all the time?” Smartypants asked the gatekeeper, stopping him in his tracks.
“Um, yeh, I s’pose I canter a lot,” he replied, giving her a sidelong look.
“Pardon me, but... what did you say?” Rarity asked, tearing her gaze from the grand palace doors—definitely emerald.
The prism pony flushed white yet again.
Rarity tried not to be jealous.
“Juss tha’—heh, well... Oh look a’ tha time, ma’am! I’d best be gettin’ back to me post. Ah, good luck with tha chattn’ and the draggin an’ all that!” he rambled, backstepping in a way he likely thought didn’t look like he was trying to escape. Even though that was exactly what he was trying to do.
