The Dirt Road
Star Swirl lay in the dappled shadow of a maple tree, hiding his face in the crook of his forelegs, his cape bunched and bent over his shoulders. Every once in a while he would give a small sign of life, a muffled moan of sorrow or a small fit of shivers that would run from the tip of his horn to the base of his tail. The picked bones of the Carnival of Carnivores had been left miles behind, but as the sun broke through clouds as it eased into midday, the reality of what had just happened caught up to him. When they stopped to rest, the aftershock hit the unicorn hard. He had been this way for well over an hour.
“Did you see the way he looked at me?”
The human nestled in the maple where thick branches curled inward to make a little crook just large enough to support his weight as he leaned against the trunk, shoulders shining in the sun. Above his head hung a row of clothes, freshly washed in the nearby stream and colors washed out from age, strung along the branch like little standards in the breeze. He had his pack in his lap as he reorganized inventory, one leg curled beneath him while the other dangled above Star Swirl’s withers swinging like a sign come off its hinge.
“Yes,” said the human. “I saw. Though I didn’t think he was looking at you specifically.”
“No, he was. He came out and he looked at the barren cage, then at you, then at the ground, and then he looked at me. Nopony’s ever looked at me that way before.”
The man reached up to feel one of his shirts. It was still a bit damp, but good enough to wear. “What way did he look at you?”
“I... I am not sure, exactly. But wasn’t what I expected. I thought he might be enraged or betrayed or shocked or vengeful but he was none of those. He looked the way one feels looking at the ashes of a burnt house. I might call it loss but it was too bitter for loss... or too stubborn, perhaps. I don’t know.” Star Swirl rolled over and shook his head. “It’s just such a terrible way to leave the world.”
“There are worse ways to go.” The human’s dangling foot patted the bunched cape on the unicorn’s shoulder in what he hoped what a comforting gesture. After a quiet moment, he added, “And you didn’t kill your showmaster.” The human said it plainly, as if guessing at a chance of rain or counting shingles on a roof. When Star Swirl only looked up at him with large wavering eyes the human said it again, for it seemed worth repeating. “You did not kill Pyrite. The manticore did.”
“I helped put the pieces into place, though.”
“If you are guilty for setting free what set the manticore free then Pyrite himself is guilty for not feeding the manticore in the first place. I’m positive if she was well fed and in better spirits, she’d have simply wandered off into the fields the same way the other creatures did.” The human swung the other leg over the branch for better leverage as he climbed back into his green tunic. Far better traveling clothes than the bearskin he left behind. “If it makes you feel any better, it happened quickly and I don’t think he felt much. Besides, if anyone’s responsible, I am. You didn’t know what I was going to do, and I was going to let her go in any case. There wasn’t much you could have done.”
Star Swirl looked up, though from his position he mostly saw legs, branches and flashes of elbows busy with folding laundry. The human looked no more out of place than a blossom on a branch. It seemed more like the tree that had grown around him, that he was the one that had always been there and it was the land slowly growing around him that was foreign.
“You say it so casually.”
“I say it truthfully.”
“And you carry no guilt about it, as I do. Though considering the... circumstances of your relationship, I suppose it makes sense.”
“I didn’t think you had the best relationship with him yourself.”
“I didn’t. I never liked him much at all. I think I might have even hated him, but death seems to change the way one feels about a pony. I’ve never seen anyone die before. Not up close. Have you?”
“Just once.” There was distance in the human’s voice. It did not falter or dwindle, the tone had not changed, but it sounded as if it were floating away somewhere or hiding under a quilt. Star Swirl had to look again to make sure he was still sitting in the same place.
“I can feel guilt,” said the human. “I can feel a lot of things. I just don’t feel guilty about this in particular. I feel a little bad that someone died but it’s not the same thing. At least I don’t think so. Other humans have spent a long time worrying over what could never be changed, we have a talent for forbidding things to be as they are. Perhaps in another time or place, I’d feel the same as you feel now. There is a lot in the world to mourn and feel sorry for. Pyrite part of it, I suppose. But I don’t have time for it now. There is too much to do. I have no time.”
The pack plopped into the grass with the human close behind, swinging off the branch with a small hop off the trunk with more ease than Star Swirl had expected for such a large creature. The unicorn stood and shook the grass and uncomfortable feelings out of the wrinkles of his cape. He watched as the human adjusted argyle socks and poked at his boots.
In the chaos of being tossed about from pony to pony, taken in and out of wagons, being grabbed by their strings and dragged in the dirt, the shoes had split apart and broken. Star Swirl began to give his condolences, as the human was already trying to make do with the tattered things. The problem was solved before he got a word out. Dextrous fingers were already weaving the little strings in and out the split layers of shoe, and with a light tug, the layers suddenly stood firm to hug the human’s ankles, just as if they had never been broken at all. It was like watching a flower open up in reverse. It had happened all so quickly! The unicorn poked it gingerly with a hoof.
The human lifted an eyebrow at him. “What? You’ve never seen shoes before?”
“None that were fixed so quickly. You must be a talented cobbler.” Star Swirl poked the boot again, astounded with the handiwork.
The eyebrow lifted higher and the man wrinkled his brow. “They weren’t broken. They’re not even worn. out. I just tied them.” When the unicorn just stared at him, he explained, “It’s... just how people shoes work. These won’t wear out for a long while, they’re still very sturdy.” He knocked on the boot toe, it sounded solid like a turtle shell. “There’s metal inside so my foot won’t get hurt when something heavy falls on it. Try to smash it.”
Star Swirl tilted his head to the side and gently kicked the toe with a hoof. When it didn’t give, he kicked harder, and then tried standing on it. The shoe stood firm. “Remarkable. You have soft feet, so you made yourself a hoof. Do you have more of these where you come from?”
He had only meant to ask that one question, but it only reminded him how hungry he was for knowledge and one question soon more questions piling atop each other. “For that matter, where are you from? Where else have you been? Why did you not stay there? Did something chase you out? What could possibly be bad enough to chase out a human? Is there really no magic at all in your land? Is there grass?”
Star Swirl put all of his weight on boots as he leaned in closer with each new question. The human wondered what would happen when he ran out of boot to stand on.
“How can grass grow when there are no earth ponies to grow it? And how can you wrap up winter without magic? Oh! Perhaps you don’t even have a winter at all? You know, I once heard from a storyteller humans travel in rolling boxes of metal where it is always the same temperature and live where they can decide when it is light or dark or dim and water comes from the walls, and even the water can be hot or cold depending on the whims of who called it. Just as if it had come from the arctic or a hot spring!”
The human pressed against the maple trunk as the unicorn and his bottomless questions edged in closer. His front hooves clambered over the human’s bony knees as Star Swirl awkwardly balanced his hind legs on rounded boot toes. A blue velvety nose was inches from his.
“I saw the water in your bottle, did it come from one of those walls? Are the walls made of metal? I have to ask, for I’ve heard many different opinions on the subject — some say that your walls are made of stone or wood just like our houses but many others say you live in walls made from glass. Glass!”
The rough bark was digging into the human’s skin. He watched a starling hop along the branch he was sitting on earlier, wishing he’d stayed up where unicorns couldn’t clamor all over him. Could little ponies climb? He hoped not.
“But why would someone live in a house with glass walls? Everypony could see everything one did and wouldn’t the whole house simply break apart if there was a hailstorm or somepony threw a rock? It doesn’t seem practical.” Star Swirl tilted his head to the side, a bit of pink mane falling across his eye and brushing against the human’s cheek. “Hmm. Do you know why one would decide to live in a place with glass walls?”
The human waited for another interrogation tidal wave to hit him again but the only sound was Star Swirl catching his breath, which had the odd scent of oats and apricots. After a few heartbeats of welcome silence, the man gave a nervous smile. “Are you done?”
“No”, gasped the pony between breaths, “But I cannot recall what the rest are just this moment. I can think of a few more if you like.”
“That… won’t be necessary, thank you.” He took Star Swirl’s hooves in his hands and nudged him aside to stand up. The pony twitched his ears, backing away with a sheepish smile and awkward apology on his lips.
Now with some welcome distance between them, the human answered, “I’m not sure what all of those questions mean but I can tell you for certain there is no magic in my city. I don’t know what grass would have to do with magic but yes, there was plenty of grass and trees and flowers that grew next to the sidewalk. There were a few vegetables in the garden, but I don’t know if any have survived now without anyone to tend them.”
Star Swirl pricked his ears and smiled at mention of the garden. “And what is a sidewalk?”
“Walkways made of white stone, though now they’re more greyish tan than white. They ran next to the asphalt roads that cut through the city like a stream and that way you could walk safely without being run over.” He tapped his pack with a foot. “My water comes from the river and rainfall, same as you. I’ve never seen water come from a wall before. I found some bottles that already had drinkable water inside them, so maybe that water came from walls since it tasted a bit different. There is winter. Unfortunately.”
“What of the boxes and towers? Could you not simply change the temperatures in them?”
The human shrugged. “In the buildings? Not anymore. There is a way to play with the wires to make the heat turn on but I never got the chance to learn how. Cities only work that way when there are lots of people living in them to make everything work properly and there aren’t any of those. The buildings are made of lots of things. Some are made of wood or bricks and most of the towers were made of metal and glass, although most of the glass broke a long time ago. Some buildings still have a special sort of glass in them that’s very strong and almost impossible to break but I don’t know why.”
Star Swirl closed his eyes and digested the answers slowly, as if unaccustomed to such rich fare. “This city of yours, did it have a name?”
“I’m sure it did but I never found out what it was. There were plenty of signs labeling streets and buildings and things but I don’t think I ever found something naming the city itself. I never thought much about it, there wasn’t a need to call it anything else besides the city. Names are used to tell the difference between one thing and another and it is the only city I’ve known.”
The pony back sat on his haunches like a cat, which seemed strange for a creature with hooves. The position looked like it ought to be uncomfortable. But then again, there were many things about Star Swirl that were a bit uncomfortable.
The human hoped his answers were enough to stave off the unicorn for a while. These questions had a strange way of seeping into his pores and rubbing against him in ways he didn’t like at all.
“If your lone city did not have a name, then do you have one?”
Questions like that for example.
“Yes,” the human told him, sounding more nonchalant than he actually was.
When Star Swirl looked at him expectantly with his beard fluttering in the breeze the human put his hands in his pockets and said nothing.
“Well?”
The human leaned against the maple and studied little veins in the leaves. “Well what?”
“What are you called?”
“As I understand it, I am called the contradiction creature. You ought to know that already.”
“No, I mean what are you called? You, specifically.”
“I am not called anything now, for I have none to call for me.”
Star Swirl flicked his tail in frustration. “Then what did others of your kind call you before?”
“I have known very few of my kind. One called me ‘the kid’, the other called me ‘son’. When feeling more affectionate she sometimes called me ‘annoying’.”
Star Swirl leaned back and sighed so hard his bell jingled. “But you do have a name. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Can you — no, I know this trick — will you tell me what it is?”
The human pushed his hands deeper into his pockets. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s mine.” He may as well have been talking to clouds or squirrels for all the courtesy he gave. “And giving it away is a fine way to run into trouble. Especially dealing with magic things. Don’t know what’s to be done with a name once it’s given away, but it cannot be anything good.”
There was a short pause. “Do you really think I would do you harm?” The pony’s voice wilted as if it had been stomped on. “I stayed as you let the manticore out. I set you free. Is that not enough to trust me?”
The man looked down at Star Swirl’s drooping ears, then at the thorn scars etched along his mouth. “I do trust you. But you want something I am not ready to give.” He reached down and brushed some pink mane from the pony’s eyes. It felt springy and thick and seemed overdue for a haircut. If haircuts were a thing ponies did. “I do owe you something and I would give you something else if I could but I don’t have the tools nor the time to craft anything worthwhile. Unless you’re looking for a hunting knife or some thread I don’t carry anything else to spare that you would want.”
“’Tisn’t as if I could threaten you with magics even if I wanted.” There was a quiet touch of bitterness in his voice but Star Swirl quickly swallowed and buried it under another question. “Where will you go now?”
“I’m not sure.” He drummed his fingers against the tree in thought. “Do you know where I could find a… Yarak? Pyrite spoke of a General Yarak that was somehow connected to a White Roc. I suppose I’m going where they are to learn whatever they know.” He looked at the unicorn, and then looked up into the branches again. There were little streaks and flashes of blue between the glittering leaves and a long trail of wispy clouds that reminded him of tire tracks. “Have you seen others like me, Star Swirl?”
The pony shook his head, “The closest I have come before now was the tapestry in the great hall of House Galaxy, some wood prints in the mythology archives, and a bronze statue in the King’s courtyard. You are the first and only human I’ve seen. I once heard tell of a unicorn that saw a human, but that mare was old enough to be my grandmother and I was but a small colt. Sorry.”
“I didn’t think so. It was worth asking, anyway.”
“General Yarak lies in the northeast, though I don’t know how you plan to reach him, unless humans can sprout wings.” When the human wrinkled his brow in confusion Star Swirl explained, “The pegasus tribe lives in the clouds. They are the ponies with wings who craft the weather.”
This only confused him further. “They… craft the weather?”
“Well, of course,” laughed Star Swirl. “Where else could clouds come from? It isn’t as if the clouds could form by themselves or rain fall on its own.”
“It did in the city.”
“All by itself? Are you quite sure you just didn’t notice a pony with wings arranging a thunderhead or moving a snow cloud?”
“I told you before, until a few months ago I had never seen a pony at all. In the sky or otherwise.”
“If there could be no magic in a human’s city… well yes, I suppose that makes sense. If it rained at all, it couldn’t be by pegasus magic, could it?” A little smile brimming with curiosity crept on Star Swirl’s face. “So the only rain you could have gotten must have been free-falling. I suppose snow and wind and clouds move on their own as well? Rain that falls by itself! Astounding.”
“I guess.” The human flipped his pack over his shoulder and began to move away before he could be sucked into another vortex of questions. “Thank you anyway for the help, Star Swirl. Farewell to you.”
He hadn’t gone five steps before a voice piped up behind him. “Wait!” The human looked back to find Star Swirl trailing behind. His hooves made not a sound as he walked, tentative and taut as if stepping on cracks of thin ice in a land of avalanches. The unicorn approached him as he had the manticore cage, keeping a respectful distance but longing to come closer. Amazed at his own boldness, he said, “I know what you can grant me.”
The contradiction creature eyed him warily. His eye darted between the unicorn and the road rolling out into the distance, as if measuring the likelihood of outrunning a pony. “…What is it?”
“Take me with you.”
The human frowned and grasped the strap of his pack with both hands. He still looked as if he could bolt any second. Star Swirl gave a gentle, hopeful smile. “Unicorns are good luck,” he offered. “And good company too, as a famous mare once said.”
“Um. I don’t mean to offend but the first unicorn I met was not what I would call lucky.”
“Perhaps, but it was through that unicorn you learned the Roc flies with General Yarak, there’s a sort of fortune in that. You have a point, though: not everypony you could meet will be on kind ground, assuming they recognize you at all. This is no Dream Valley and the world is full of hard hearts and cold eyes. You might welcome a friendly soul by your side and while I am no map maker I know the unicorn territory and the lands on its border fairly well. At least I know it a little more than you do, if you don’t mind my saying. I can help find us lodging and ask for directions. And I think it will be good for both of us in the future, somehow. I… I have a ken for these sorts of things. Please, take me with you.”
The human looked at Star Swirl’s lively colors, then at the brass bell shining at the base of his neck. Everything with ears would hear them coming and remember them after they left. He wasn’t sure what that would mean for them when they went amongst the other little ponies but he was sure it would make for rough hunting. But the bearded fellow did seem to know the land, which was always useful. The human wasn’t sure if he enjoyed having a unicorn’s company or not. But he didn’t think he was ready to turn him away either.
“You can come if you like.”
Star Swirl lept forward in a flare of silk cape and excited jingles. He meant to approach in a dignified canter but it somehow ended up as more of a lamb-like prance. “You shan’t regret it.”
The man looked down at the beaming little fellow and suppressed a smile of his own. “Aren’t you supposed to be afraid of me or something?”
“Probably. Aren’t you supposed to be extinct?”
This time the human did smile.
Star Swirl was a hardier creature than the human expected. Despite looking sort of like a colorful horned throw pillow stuffed with too many questions, he kept up easily. He was never far from his side, catching up in eager canters when the human moved into brisk walks and strolling behind evenly as they ambled over rolling hills.
He was quieter than expected, too. In the two days they had traveled together Star Swirl spoke as much as the human did, which was hardly at all. Every now and then he would remark on a notable rock formation or sing a little song to himself, but he mostly kept to himself as they traveled. The human sometimes wondered if Star Swirl had simply worn himself out after his waterfall of inquiries or if he was simply shy of speaking after the effort of convincing the human to take him along. He was often lost in thought with something on his mind or on the tip of his tongue, but would not voice it and the human did not ask about it.
On the third morning of the fourth week of their travels together Star Swirl was awoken by a shrill scream in the distance. He craned his neck up towards the willow branch where the human had curled up the night before. The boots and knapsack were gone but he’d left something behind as a sign he would return.
Star Swirl was grateful the pegasi scheduled a warm summer this year. That meant the thing was kept in the pack and out of sight for most of the day. It came out at nightfall to be used as a blanket, but the mercy of the dark made it seem no different than any other bit of cloth. The pitiless morning offered no such comfort. The human’s cloak draped over the willow branch like a broken bat wing just inches above where the unicorn had slept moments before. A breeze tousled Star Swirl’s cape, his bell rang happily as silk flared and snapped at his sides. The dangling cloak tips gently waved at him, hardly disturbed at all. Whatever material it was made from was too heavy to be blown away; it had to be something heavy like wool or velvet. Or something else.
His ears pricked at the sound of something crunching under a heavy foot, and his nose twitched at the smell of smoke. There was another shriek, but the sound cut off as swiftly as it started.
In a different company, a morning that began with screams and smoke would be alarming. Instead, it only affirmed the human did not have to go far to find breakfast. At least he did this sort of thing out of sight. The unicorn suppressed a shudder and made his way to the stream for a drink.
It wasn’t the meat-eating that troubled him. Star Swirl had worked under Pyrite for three years, after all. In the constant company of wolves, weasels, and bears, one eventually became used to the idea of bleeding flesh and teeth cracking bones. But the company of a wolf and the company of a contradiction creature was not the same thing. Not at all.
At the sound of approaching boots, he edged aside to give the space as the human knelt beside him on the bank to refill his strange clear bottles. They nodded good morning to each other. Star Swirl shook the water from his dripping beard and offered a thin smile. "So. Um. Aside from nuts and berries and fruits what else do you eat?"
"At home, it was mostly ducks and pigeons. These days I just eat whatever I can catch." The human shrugged, "Mostly it's squirrels and rabbits when I can manage to catch them. Sometimes I fish, but fishing takes more time than I would like. I can make do with almost anything, assuming it isn't poisonous."
Star Swirl eyed the hare feet sticking out of the top of the human's pack. The feet waggled and bounced in a macabre little jig as he moved. The toes were tinged red.
The human sat back on his heels and washed the blood from his knife, humming a little song to himself. Without looking back at the unicorn he said, "No, I don't eat ponies.”
“Oh, but I didn’t think… That is, I didn’t mean to imply—”
“I try to avoid eating things that talk.” The human smirked. “And you talk a great amount."
The unicorn gingerly smiled back but it withered as he watched the human return to the willow tree to retrieve his cloak made from… Well, Star Swirl was happier not knowing.
He waited until it was safely put away before he approached the human again and they continued down the road.
A covered wagon pulled by a team of burly earth ponies thundered past them, obscured by clouds of grit and dust.
“Second one today,” the human observed. “And the day isn’t even half over.”
Similar small signals of civilization had become more and more common lately. Abandoned carts without wheels, hoof prints running over hoof prints in the dirt, forgotten horseshoes in the grass, candlelight from lonely cottages in the distance.
The dirt path split as it climbed to the hilltop where a white signpost perched waiting for them, its wooden arrows splayed out like open arms. An odd language of hard-edged letters the human couldn’t read scrawled across it, along with simple drawings of fruit and houses. Star Swirl looked at it and grinned. “Ah, we’re right on track, Conemara is only a few miles ahead. Look, from here you can see some of it already.”
The human looked in the distance at the cluster of rooftops all colored in cheerful reds, pearly pinks, and buttery yellows in a valley of vibrant grass, pretty little pebbles at the bottom of a shallow green bowl. Streaks of grey ran through the valley in intricate patterns, branching out and around in ragged zigzags, smooth curls, and straight edges and it made the human homesick for his own empty roads.
“It’s a town of earth ponies near the Nation’s border. We ought to be there well before nightfall for some lodging. Feels like ages since I’ve slept in a proper bed.”
“Is there anything to eat there?”
Star Swirl gave a warm little chuckle. “If not in Conemara then nowhere at all. Tis the main hub of trade with the Kingdom in the way of luxury goods, ice creams, cakes, and the like. Those twisting roads down there are so intricate to keep ponies from stepping on the grass. Finest grass you’ll find anywhere. They say it’s so soft and lush the quiltmakers cry themselves to sleep in fits of jealousy.”
The human frowned. “I don’t eat grass.”
“Ha! Expensive as Conemara grass is? Neither do I. But in any town with earth ponies, you’re bound to find plenty besides to eat. They know the ways of their land and the harvest and food the same as unicorns know their moon phases and pegasi know cloud patterns.”
"Speaking of the clouds, what do you know of the White Roc?” The human glanced at the sky stretching above him, pale blue and barren. “I always thought rocs lived in hotter places of sand and grasslands, feasting upon elephants and fighting crocodiles. What could it be doing this far north? And what’s it to do with General Yarak?"
Star Swirl thought a few moments before answering, “The three pony tribes do not go amongst each other, save for when we exchange goods and services. Many unicorns go their whole lives never meeting a pony without a horn and are more than glad for it. Keep this in mind when I tell you that most all ponies know the name of the fearsome General Yarak. Details are a mite obscure in exactly how, but t’was through him the griffon wars were won. In the latter years of the war the Hegemony fractured against the force of the griffon army; they conquered most of the northern cities and encroached further by the day. It was to the point where the shadow of red talons was a common sight in Nation skies and any unicorn with a telescope could see the sun glinting off armor.”
It was literally all downhill from here. Star Swirl often dashed ahead quicker than his hooves could manage, often tripping as the road grew steep. The human went carefully behind him for fear of slipping. Were it snowing, the two of them could have easily sledded into Conemara and saved half a day’s walk.
“But as the griffons pushed forward, Yarak’s company moved backward into the northern aeries in the heart of griffon territory. Some say he blazed through the infantries and straight into the Emperor’s court in endless waves of blood and feathers, fueled only by righteous white-hot fury and the iron taste of blood in his mouth. Others say Yarak simply went the wrong way. The end is the same either way. In a month—one month in an eight-year war—the Emperor was slain and the enemy devastated in their own land. Not only did the Hegemony win back their lands, but claimed a good hundred miles of griffon land for themselves too.”
“That’s all very interesting,” sighed the man not looking for a history lesson. “But what about the Roc?”
Star Swirl waggled conspiratorial pink eyebrows. “Ah, but how did the general claim victory so suddenly? Griffons are not easily slain, to cut down a mass of them with such swiftness would call for something unheard of, something huge.” The unicorn swished his cape and hid his nose in the shadow of silk and secrets. “A secret weapon so terrible, so immensely—”
The human jostled the bag against his shoulder, pointedly unimpressed. “The weapon was the White Roc.”
“The White Roc indeed!” If the unicorn noticed the human’s irritation then he didn’t show it. “I can’t tell you much of the Roc in the ways of fact. There are scores of stories and songs and poetry and so many of them contradict each other. I have often heard the Roc is a pale phantom crafted from souls of the vengeful dead, and I have also heard that the army bore the Roc’s egg in a secret keep, raising it on minotaur hearts and elephant bones. Wilder stories say the White Roc is a mechanical creature, all twirling cogs and smoke clouds, Yarak is the Roc’s father, Yarak tricked the Roc into slavery, or the Roc is General Yarak himself under a curse. Popular opinion in the capital says the Roc is not real at all, just a simple metaphor for the army or else a rumor they made up to frighten the other tribes. I suppose we will discover the truth of the Roc when we come to it.”
The human looked again at the empty sky and rubbed his shoulder. "I'd hate to think I've come all this way in search of a metaphor." Half-expecting a shadow to suddenly loom overhead, he found himself missing the shelter of tree branches as the pair eased into the heart of the valley.
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So, I haven't read this yet. I almost didn't, either. But then I noticed that it has exactly 25,000 words. So, I thought, "That has to be a sign."
So, it's on my read later. I hope it is good.
amazing
Wonder how the town will take to the rare human.
"The White Roc"...
Sounds like a jet fighter IMO.
Will panic mode activate when everypony sees the creature nopony saw before (or at least for a long time)?
Either way, great chapter. Patiently waiting for more
I believe there should be a comma after "me" here.
"and are more than glad for it", and unless "fearsome general" is actually Yarak's title, it should be "the fearsome General Yarak". If it is his title, then fearsome should be capitalized.
Good work as always, and I echo 1960464's curiosity.
So... the White Roc is some kind of aviation machine?
1960948
Actually, the author is correct here. The unicorns are more than glad that they don't meet those without a horn.
1961786
Exactly, Are more than glad. "Are" is a verb here; remove it, and "and more than glad for it" just becomes additional detail about what the pony being met is without. Ergo, removing it(or neglecting to put it in in the first place) was a mistake.
The White Rock... is Tom :D
1961033 Like an old plane?
I still want to know what happened to the humans. The only ways that the entire human race could disappear, that I could see, are, either nuclear war, or they chose to leave. Oh! Maybe there was something that happened that turned all of the humans into ponies, or maybe they're playing God and created the ponies themselves.
not certain but didn't the sea pony say something about the humans leaving on the roc? I'll have to go back and check, but if so then it could be a shuttle or something similar. Mabey the general got some help in the way of superior firepower?
I'm also leaning towards the White Roc being an aircraft. Not sure what kind of aircraft, but definitely an aircraft.
...What if it was different kinds of aircraft? A shuttle took the humans away, and General Yarak found a jet fighter. If both were painted white, then conceivably they might both be referred to as White Rocs by a species that has no experience with mechanical flight and thus wouldn't know about the differences between types of craft.
"He was often lost in thought with something was on his mind or on the tip of his tongue,"
I don't think "with something was" actually makes sense. Perhaps "as if something was on..."? Or "with something on..."?
As for wild speculation about the White Roc, a blimp or dirigible makes more sense than a fixed wing aircraft IMO. Aside from the question of piloting the thing, and fuel, there's the sheer fact that a jet fighter is probably meant for encounters at much higher speed than pegasus/griffon combat. An airship would be able to fly slow enough to hang around and do damage instead of having to make passes constantly, and looks much more intimidating due to their huge size to boot.
Of course it could also be an actual creature, or a flying saucer, or a secret army of slave humans wearing jetpacks. (Probably not the last one.)
Am I the only one who is seeing Starswirl acting a lot like Twilight? Maybe he's her direct ancester.
Another great chapter.
NYES.
Missing a paragraph break here.
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I think this White Roc might be rockets that the Pegasi happened across and used them to devastate the Griffons.
Anyway, Great story! Can't wait for the next Chapter
The recently updated list comes through once again, this is very interesting.
For people who don't know, a Roc in mythology is a huge, vicious eagle or bird, which would fit with the other mythological creatures in Equestria like the manticore or dragon. Just thought I'd point that out.
Holy crap. I've only read the blurb on the index page, and already I have feels.
This has been a very interesting story for me, can hardly wait to find out what happens next.
So, I just noticed the Lyra tag... wth?
I bet the Roc is a Combune Harvester
I just finished reading this chapter yesterday. I love the story and its tone. The only thing that kind of pulls me out of the story a bit is the fact that in Turkish yarak is vulgar for penis. So it is a bit like "atmosphere, emotions, We have to find General Penis, atmosphere, emotions"
"I'd hate to think I've come all this way in search of a metaphor."
SPACESHIP.
2265649 SKIPPER YAY! PoM is so awesome.
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)
I have a huge Skipper plush :D
(and with Luna being best pony, I feel like Private most of the time
"Unicorns are good luck . . . and good company, too!" I got the reference. D'awwww.
Having never seen the Last Unicorn, I feel like I'm tripping over dozens of invisible references...
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guess whats inside it
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i know right
I'm beginning to see why Starswirl is such a hero of Twilight's! They are very, very alike, aren't they? I could see her badgering the poor human with endless questions about his home, his nature and how life worked without any kind of magic (at least not the kind a Unicorn would understand... possibly an Earth Pony would though).
It must be difficult for a pure herbivore to spend time around a hunter/gatherer omnivore but, as the human said, most of us tend to think eating things that talk to be a poor show at best.
Now... I'm wondering if Starswirl developed his obsession with beards because of a certain human affliction. I also wonder how much of his magical research was caused by a desire to replicate the wonders to which his human friend had so casually introduced him and the stories he told of his kind's golden era when all of nature was clay for them to shape as they willed.
I wonder if we will yet meet a young Clover when Starswirl takes her on as his apprentice. Will the end of the human also herald the end of the pre-Classical era, with the coming of the Windigoes?
God, this is such a good piece of prose.
Half expected it to turn into a clop fic for the next couple of paragraphs...
I'm guessing the White Roc is a bomb, a missile or some kind of incendiary device.
I'm goin with nuclear bomb.
A few chapters in. I think the humans died becuase of a thermonuclear war because of the human referring to things such as "Fallout bunker" and how the humans died. This "White roc" might actually be a missile, and without goggling it it might be referring to white sands missile base.
3656118 Wow we completely agree.
3656118 is the right half of your avatar spike?
Am i the only person that thought about the Black Smoke Monster from LOST?
B-22 Bomber. I'm calling it and you guys can't say shit.
its a tank
Wouldn't be surprised if the Roc was really a plane of sorts, seeing as how this story makes it sound like a post-humanity Earth. This reminds me of The Familiar of Zero
1960272 did you read it yet?
worn out.
with something on his mind
1960272
Did you read it yet?