//------------------------------// // The Golden King // Story: Sunset in the Otherworld // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// “Up and at ‘em, Sunset! It’s Oak Apple Time!” Sunset grimaced, raised her head from the pillow, and got another one hard in the face. She emerged spluttering into a storm of feathers. “H-Hey!” She spat out one or two tufts. “What’s the big idea?” Applejack leaped past the empty grate and seized one of her hooves. “Ah told yer, din’t Ah? When you make a promise, you ain’t backin’ out. Come on, it’ll do your lungs a world of good.” Oh, that irritating little country mouse! Why doesn’t she let me do my own thing? “All right, all right. I’m coming. Stop pulling my leg. Ow! You’ve got muscles like a bull!” Bursting through the door, Applejack bent down to pick up a discarded bough. Up ahead, the caravan of ponies followed the lane, all swinging their branches and singing off-key and dancing like foals. “You have to be kidding me.” Sunset spun on the threshold. “I’m going back to bed –” “Sunset.” Applejack was a wall with a raised eyebrow. “You promised me.” I wish she didn’t do that. I know at least two dozen spells that would end with me sleeping again and her wandering off in a daze. Funny how a common earth pony can twist my leg so much. Sighing, Sunset gave in to the inevitable. All the same, she refused to take a bough when a passing Big McIntosh offered her his. To her surprise, he was prancing with the best of them, as light on his dinner-plate hooves as Apple Bloom with her twig. The lane led past the green humps on her right. Longingly, she stared at them until they fell behind and her neck almost twisted. When she turned back, the village of Great Wishful sat contentedly in the valley, its central spire ringing with bells. “Beauty, ain’t it?” Applejack elbowed her side. Despite herself, Sunset nodded. No denying that. They passed the cottages and waved at the crowds on either side – Sunset somewhat reluctantly – before the crossroads met them and they gathered, still singing, still dancing, at the portal of the village temple. As one – Sunset winced at the violence – they thrashed the ground with their boughs. The world chanted around her. “FRESH FROM GRAVITY WOOD! FRESH FROM GRAVITY! UNITY IS STRENGTH!” “Unity is Strength!” Applejack bellowed, and whooped. To Sunset’s shock, there were tears down the workhorse’s normally calm face. “I don’t get it. What’s the point of all this?” Sunset winced as an overexcited Granny almost kicked her in the shins. “Just a silly ritual –” “Ain’t it obvious!?” Applejack gestured to Granny, to Big Mac, to Apple Bloom, and finally to the crowd. Sunset groaned and cast her gaze back the way she’d come, to the full moon and its usual nightly moonrise. Full shine. Full power. Is this what moonlight does to ponies? Drives them insane? “Obvious?” she muttered under her breath, resigned to the shouting and the dancing and the tolling of the bell – Sunset blinked as the memory evaporated. Her study was as she left it. Granny was no longer there. The fire had died in the grate. She checked the window. Blackout: nothing but stars. No moon. Great, her mind groaned. It didn’t work. Granny must have left while I was in that weird daze. I owe her an apology. Rubbing her face with a hoof, she passed the embers in the grate – knocking vials aside as she went – and pushed her way through the door. Without the moonlight, everything was black below the stars. Irritably, she fired a spell into the air. Yellow glows splattered over the stone walls. Same old country lane. Empty of ponies. Serenity Hill was just past Great Wishful. Feeling lower than the earth she scuffed underfoot, Sunset followed the familiar lane. What would AJ do? Come on, Sunset. Use that oversized brain of yours and do some good for once… What went wrong? Soon, the yellow lost the struggle against darkness. She fired up another flare. The humps on her right flared gold. Ha. I remember Professor Chess talking about those. Golden kings and hidden treasures. It’s a fascinating myth. Even AJ admitted they were just – Laughter met her ears. Instincts leaped to her horn. She aimed. A figure leaped out into the lane, shaking with laughter. “A myth!? A myth!? Maybe in your world, Sunny-Me-Gal, but not here! Ho ho ho!” Sunset stared. The figure was pony-shaped, true. Admittedly, it wore a crown and a robe, but in shape the king was nothing particularly remarkable. No. What was remarkable was that he was solid gold. And he’d just said – “In my world?” she asked. The golden king boomed with mirth. It was a laugh Big Mac would have envied. “Lost in more ways than one, I see! But come, Sunny-Me-Gal! What kind of a king would I be if I did not invite a fair maiden to a feast? Ho ho ho!” And with that, he leaped across the stone wall and phased right through the nearest green hump. Sunset’s brain skipped a second before reality poured back in. This definitely didn’t happen in her world. Glancing about, she hopped over. Hm. Still looks like a solid hump to me. But if I’m really in the other world, then maybe, just maybe, I’m not hallucinating out of grief. I really hope so. Under the fading yellow of her flare, she shrugged and stepped forwards. And phased through. What struck her was the gold. Golden vaulted rooftop, golden mirror reflecting the golden columns, golden portraits of golden monarchs, golden thrones along the long golden table, golden plates, and golden mounds of apples, carrots, celery, potatoes, parsnips, sprouts, cabbages, breads of all shapes and sizes, scattered with golden sauces and golden flasks and golden pitchers… “Welcome, welcome!” The Golden King – the capitals demanded it now – flourished with a whip of his robe. “Welcome to the World Cider! Eat, drink, and be merry!” Sunset’s mouth began drooling, but five years of hammered mythology rose up in her mind. Suspicion yanked her back. She raised a leg to flee. Is he clean? Her academic memory goggled at her. Clean!? This is the Golden King! If there’s a mythical figure you can trust, it’s him. She smiled and stepped forwards. “Those who come into our realm without payment must enjoy the World Cider!” The Golden King pulled up a chair for her. “If you cannot pay with money, then you must pay with grace and humility! Enjoy our bountiful hospitality! You’ll need it for the journey ahead!” Sunset knew the myths all too well. She almost tipped the chair in her haste. Greedily, she picked up a bowl of steaming soup – Floating in the centre was a red apple. She looked on either side. All the other chairs were empty. Just like the university cafeteria. She always used to sit alone. Concern crossed the King's face overhead. “Why, Sunny-Me-Gal. Whatever’s the matter?” The emptiness suddenly outweighed the gold. This isn’t real. None of this is real. I have to remember that. That emptiness was all she had left. “I think I understand what she meant now. It’s obvious.” Not unkindly, the King ruffled her mane. “I know, lassie. The dirt irritates you at first, and then you see the gold inside. But you really should eat up. I fear this is about as nice as it’s going to get.” “Thank you.” That was all she could say. When she looked back into the bowl, the apple was still there. Adrift. Alone. On an impulse, she added, “How long have I got?” The Golden King took his place at the head of the table. “As long as you need. The sun shines upon you here, Sunny-Me-Gal. Enjoy the warmth and the light.” But there’s no warmth. Even the gold doesn’t shine. The sun doesn’t exist. Not even here. It’s not even a myth. It’s just… a silly speculation. So Sunset ate, and she drank. She couldn’t be merry.