Prologue
Sleetsheer, my dearest sister. Many apologies for the scarcity of updates, but we’ve rarely strayed towards the edges of towns thus far. I have been in Alto for a few days now, safe and in high spirits. But we’re all prepared for the worst.
The ponies here have given warnings of an incoming storm that we will have to weather through, as we cannot wait any longer. The flight to New Almare is a long one, and from what I have been told, even without the current weather, somewhat dangerous. What this could mean, we all dread to guess.
These past months have been long and hard on all of us. They are, however, entirely necessary. When we first set out three months ago, we set out with a purpose. I can only wish to tell you why, but I fear for our safety. But rest assured, we have taken every precaution that we can think of.
But enough of this dreariness. I only wish that I could find the words to describe what I’ve seen. This mission has taken us far beyond the borders of Equestria, and the sights I’ve witnessed… I can’t describe them. It’s just so… beautiful. It’s a shame we can’t linger any longer.
Alto’s an amazing city. Maybe I’ll bring the family here one day.
Forgive the shortness of this letter, Sleet. Even now, I am being called to by Nightblossom, but I have a few moments left. We should be leaving soon, back onto the skyway. My saddlebags are prepared, and I’m already in armour. No rest for the weary, I suppose.
When we finally get to New Almare, the journey’s end is but a hair’s breadth away. I am weary of flight, Sleet. Not because I am tired, but because our journey seems to move in one direction only. Into mystery.
I am wary of the incoming wind. Should anything happen to me, Sleetsheer… Should my skills fail me, or if this storm leads us astray, do not seek to find sorrow. We both have friends and family that will, in any case, take care of you if the worst comes to past.
After all, no matter how dark the night, there’s a bright day after that. Stay strong – I’ll be home before you know it!
All of my love,
-Lark
***
With a final gentle swipe of my quill, I concluded my brief letter, making sure that no rogue driblets of ink were about to roll onto my handiwork. My calligraphy wasn’t the best, but it was legible. Setting aside the letter, I rose from my seat, plucking the quill from my mouth and placing it on the desk. I thought back to my wording as I screwed the inkpot’s lid back into position.
The storm had just about broached the horizon. Even here, the rolling clouds diffused across the setting sky like smoke. A few wisps at the front had already began to spit rain at Alto; forcing travellers and vendors alike to seek shelter. Low rumbles of thunder began to boom across the coastline, bringing with it the wind-whipped crests of the sea, pounding up sand and pebble alike with a frothy advance.
With a disheartened sigh, I delicately folded the letter to Sleetsheer and slid it within its envelope; her address already scrawled across the side with meticulous accuracy. After sealing it with the melting wax of my dying candle, I stopped and watched the dancing of the flame. Despite its flickering, it still cast out precious light and warmth- most likely the last of both I’ll see or feel for a while.
I extinguished the waning candle with an exhale.
Outside, the brewing storm raged harder, striding closer with every moment. Now I could make out the flash of lightning, crackling along the underbelly of the oily beast.
Aged floorboards creaked under my hooves as I made my way towards the door, pausing for a second to pass the letter to the kind mare that had accommodated me for the past few days. With a smile, the letter was soon joined by a small bag of bits. She exchanged pleasantries and well-wishes, and a promise to post the letter as soon as possible. Behind her a stallion, who I can only assume to be her special somepony, gave me a nod, worry blooming in his features.
She craned her neck to nuzzle him, before gesturing to my saddlebags. They were in a shadowed corner, along with my helmet. Murmuring my thanks, I hefted both across my back with a ruffling of my wings. There was nary a word spoken betwixt us, but there needn’t be. I gave them both what I hoped was a reassuring look, whilst pondering over whether the mare would notice that I gave her treble what she asked for my berthing.
From what I had learned, they were hoping to be married. Why not help them along?
Licking my lips, I picked up the taste of sea-salt and underlying trepidation. Then, with a final swapped goodbye, I left their humble abode.
Gently closing the door behind me, I began to make my way through a maze of back alleys and pathways, towards the edge of Alto. Occasionally, I would break the cover of hanging rooftops, and rainwater would dampen my mane. My goggles, slung around my neck, swished in the light wind.
By the time I reached the outskirts, rivulets of water ran down my armour, soaking into my coat. My mane was beginning to be plastered to my head. As I’d walked, the sub-urban expanse had gradually been replaced with tree trunks and broad, leafy canopies. The grass became longer and slicker. Precipitation had seeped into the dirt and sand, turning it into a weak gloop that stuck to my iron-shod hooves with every splashing clop.
The placid plinking of my peytral against my crinet soothed me, despite being uncomfortable. The gentle clink of the two touching with every step I took reminded me of just how different Guardsponies are to the Equestrian Military. I never had to wear a crinet in the Guard.
I silently traversed the wastes of my mind as I trotted, numbly aware of the dull ache behind my shoulders.
We had been far beyond the reach of Equestria for almost three months. Our mission had taken us thousands of miles from home, almost halfway across the known world. From Canterlot we had travelled north-west, over the Coltic Wastes and the Crystal Empire. From the Empire to Galloway. Galloway to Gryphus, and across the Black Sea to Dream Valley. We had arrived in Alto, one of the very last bastions of Equestrian society, albeit a very minute one, several days ago after a gruelling nineteen-hour flight through the valley.
I rounded the corner of the miry pathway, shaking the moisture from my body as best I could as Nightblossom peered at me through the striding gloom. It had trudged inland overnight. The great fingers of oak and elm branches reached out into the fog; the star-spun blanket swirling around the limbs elegantly. The leaves of such trees were oddly tranquil, resting carelessly in the loving embrace of the day.
Blossom’s eyes seared through the mist, glowing beacons in the churning shadow. Behind her, the sky-carriage was already prepped for our departure. The majority of our supplies were packaged inside. High Noon and Jetstream were already in their harnesses, in full escort amour. Noteworthy, serving as ambassador for this mission, was already seated inside, inspecting a bag of kit.
Blossom decided to announce my arrival. “Lark! You’re late!”
“I know! Had to take care of a few things,” I shouted back over the pattering of the rain. “I’m sorry”- I pulled my goggles over my eyes- “but better late than never, right!” I tossed my bags through the open hatch in the side of the carriage. Noteworthy caught them with a grimace.
She gave a small laugh, not dissimilar to the birdsong one might hear in the early hours in the morning. With a shake of her head which sent her dampened mane in a violet half-circle, she gestured back to the carriage. “Tell that to them.”
A thunderclap shook the ground underhoof.
A sense of deep-seated weariness overtook me as I trotted past her, flicking my wings out in an effort to warm myself up. A sour, ironlike taste coated my tongue, and my coat prickled. Sharing a glance at the sky with Noon, we both let out a quiet groan in unison. Across from Noon, Jetstream turned to face Blossom, a frown etched into her face.
“I really don’t like the look of that storm, Blossom!”
That was concerning. Jetstream was probably the most experienced of us; an ex-Wonderbolt, to be precise. For her, a veteran of Equestria’s most fearless flight team, to be worried… I dreaded to think of what lay ahead.
Blossom nickered in return, “We’ve wasted enough time as it is! We need to go now!”
“If we wait, the storm’s only going to get worse!” Noon added.
Inside the carriage, Noteworthy chipped in to the exchange. “Once we’re through, it’s clear skies ‘till New Almare!” He thumped his hoof against the wooden wall with a muffled knock. “Just try and fly above it!”
Jetstream bit down on her lip, only just visible in the shrouded moonlight. Her expression wavered, and her chin jutted upwards in a nod.
With a clang, Blossom battered down the hatches of the carriage, casting ‘Worthy into near-darkness. “Alright! This is the final stretch, but it’s also one of the longest! We are about to fly over Eternity’s Crossing!” She took her position perpendicular to myself, on the other side of the carriage. We were escorting; Noon and Jet were hauling. “We are gonna have to go hard and fast through this storm of we have any hope of getting to Almare in one piece!”
I grimaced, barely able to hear her over the clanging of water on metal. I cast another look skywards, and forced my helmet on.
“Good luck, everypony!” She roared, before exploding into a gallop. Four pairs of hooves beat the mud into a lather as they strained to tear the carriage into the sky; their wings chopping at the air as they picked up speed. The sky pulsed with light briefly. I cleared the air from my lungs and bolted. My hooves drummed a tattoo, the sound resonating deep in my chest. Then I was airborne, my wings thrashing at my sides, biting into the oncoming gusts.
We rose swiftly. Above us, the bloated sky churned and belched, howling a challenge towards us even before we were halfway to the ebon stratus layer. Far below us, the sea became a mass of rolling slate, engulfing our shadows and swallowing the moon from sight. The rain whipped itself into a frenzy. A torrent of arctic bullets pelted my coat and smashed into my armour, penetrating to my core. Thrashing winds tossed me about, and I could only watch as the carriage was jerked across my peripheral vision. The minutes passed like days.
We broke the bottom layer, and I darted ahead as best I could to relieve Blossom of her slipstreaming efforts. She was already foaming at the mouth, and spittle flew from her lips with every huff. I caught the scent of ozone. The air hummed and crackled with energy.
An explosion of white.
Blinking past the spots, I hissed as my vision flickered in the breakneck winds. Were I not exerting myself, I was certain that I would be numb. The sky flashed with an angry virulence as it whirled around us both. Blossom’s coat was standing on end. She strained to look at me, her mane pulled back behind her ears and whipping in the maelstrom. Wordlessly, she nodded, beads of rain sliding down her visors. Then, with a beat of her wings, she was behind the carriage.
Echoing clashes of thunder rolled over my eardrums; a haphazard mish-mash of discordancy in the heavens. I squinted past the rain as the light faded, sweeping everything into a swelling sea of obscurity. The foot of the cumulus was close. The storm screeched like a banshee, and swung a clenched paw of the monsoon at us.
The non-stop, raucous assault of the rain began to leave a ringing in my ears, and this renewed battery only served to make it worse. A brief moment of moonlight revealed an approaching shadow as we darted past the aperture. It was past the cloud bank! I whisked my head around, catching the straining eyes of Jet and Noon. Threshing against the wind, I called back, “There’s something up ahead!” I’m certain my words were lost in the howling gale, so I tried again.
“THERE’S SOMETHING UP AH-“
A shrill cry in my ear. I whipped my head around in time to catch a glancing blow across my helmet.
Red. Quivering black. Flashes of pulsing white. Pain. My skin seared against the rain as blood trickled out from underneath my helmet. I regained my balance and searched for the attacker. A scream erupted from Blossom.
“GRIFFON!”
It slammed into my right side, approaching from below. We spun erratically, plummeting to the clouds. The griffon snapped and slashed and raked with its razor talons, my armour squealing in retaliation as deep gouges were ripped thereof. I spat at it, swinging a hoof towards its nipping maw.
It connected with a crunch. With a squawk, I was kicked backwards by something blunt, still spiralling. The griffon had hind hooves. I snapped my wings out, beating the frigid winds into a flurry. Flaring them out, I looped back the way I had come, rising back towards the carriage.
A burst of light showed the way amidst the monsoon, thundering past my ears. Nightblossom and the griffon-pony were battling against the silhouette of the carriage. With a roar, I shot upwards.
The rain pelted against my fur, and I could feel my helmet slipping over my seeping gash.
I crashed into the attacker’s right shoulder, knocking him away. Snarling, it wrapped its talons around my body and strove to crush the life from me as we tumbled again. I writhed and kicked like a hissing cat as we fell, batting at him with my front hooves. It bellowed and half-pushed away, digging its claws into my peytral. I head-butted him with all my might, disorientating him for but a second. I shook myself free, darting away.
Blossom shouted something. I twisted, but I was too slow. A cloven hoof struck me underneath the chin. Whiteness. My head snapped backwards. I dimly watched as my helmet tumbled out of view, a smattering of blood following it like a contrail. A haze descended over the world, throbbing in tandem with my pulse.
I fell, unable to move. The carriage was long since out of view. Blossom and the griffon-pony had been swallowed up by the clouds and the darkness. I slammed through the clouds, breathless, my vision wavering. Then, emptiness.