The Olden World

by Czar_Yoshi


Ditching Pegasi

The entrance plaza outside the skyport was empty when Gerardo Guillaume emerged from the lift tunnel, Sharpie and Brightcoil at his side. A few lonely equines paced stiffly by, eyes fixed forward, interest locked on their unknown destinations.

A distant rush permeated the air, which Gerardo soon realized to be the eternal windstorm that blocked flight directly into and out of the valley. It sounded more like a waterfall than anything, though no rivers of meltwater made their way through the district anywhere near him.

He shot a glance northward, where the hotel room Maple had booked lay empty. A small part of him clenched at the waste of money, but it was quickly overridden by more important concerns. Wherever Maple and Starlight were, it was in far less comfort and safety than they deserved... and than he had been charged with providing. All he could do was hope his mission to the yaks would prove successful.

Howe and Slipstream lingered in the back of his mind. The former still rubbed him the wrong way, and it was hardly a sad parting on Gerardo's side. From what he had learned of the pegasus, it likely wouldn't be their last... but that was a bridge to be crossed when it came. Slipstream, on the other talon, he hadn't even gotten a chance to ask anyone to say farewell to. Hopefully she wouldn't remember him poorly, and would be fine stuck with Howe. Most of his thoughts were consumed with Dior, however, their brief encounter playing over and over behind glazed-over eyes. The stallion had said he would see to Maple and Starlight's safety. Had he acted yet? He spoke and left with urgency, yet what could be done on such short notice, and at night at that? Short of walking into the fortress himself and demanding their release...

If he had acted, then Gerardo's friends were likely safe, though he couldn't even begin to guess where. Skyfreeze, most likely. The hotel? No sane guardian would leave them on their own. The Earth District or Sosa? Hardly likely. Few options seemed even remotely reasonable, and if they had been taken care of, his own presence shouldn't be needed to ensure their safety. No, he had time to pursue his crates. Those were equally if not more so important, for unlike the ponies, Dior certainly wouldn't help with them.

A loud sigh from Sharpie broke him from his thoughts. "It's a twenty-minute flight from here to the embassy. We shouldn't waste time standing around."

Gerardo raised an eyebrow. "Flight...?" His eyes flicked to Sharpie's folded wings... and then to Brightcoil, standing demurely with her horn dull on her forehead. Unicorns couldn't fly.

Crouching almost low enough to the ground for her business suit to scrape the roadway, Sharpie ignored him, beckoning to Brightcoil with a wing. The unicorn strode closer, before climbing onto her friend's back in a well-practiced series of motions, forelegs locking tightly around her neck.

"I see..." Gerardo mused, bringing a talon to his chin as Sharpie flapped, face scrunching in exertion as she gained altitude and hovered out over the cliff edge. Flying for two, the pegasus' progress was hardly going to win any races, and Gerardo stood for a moment before spreading his own broad wings and taking off.

In a matter of seconds, he had eclipsed Sharpie and Brightcoil in distance, and pulled to a halt, not wanting to embarrass the pair. Sharpie's suit made it impossible to tell how toned her muscles really were, but it was at least clear she wasn't an athlete. Her flaps were broad and desperate, lacking some of the finer wing control displayed by any flier used to performing professional maneuvers.

Having allowed them time to form another lead, Gerardo sped up... and immediately passed them once again, despite his best efforts. "Would you stop?" Sharpie snapped. "You're literally flying in circles around me! I don't need another reason to feel bad about myself tonight."

"M-My apologies!" Slightly shaken, Gerardo bobbed backwards. "Although, if it would be of service, I could always carry her myself..."

Upon receiving the biggest stink-eye of his time since entering Riverfall, which was saying something as he had managed to make an enemy of Hemlock, Gerardo instantly backed off, resolving to stay firmly behind the slow pegasus for the duration of the flight.


"There's the yak embassy compound," Brightcoil narrated as they neared the Stone District once again. Even in the moonlight, it was easy to see what she was referring to: set in a break in the switchbacks and roadways that made up the district's walkable space, a walled area sat, taking great care to remain flat despite the steepness. In the back, it carved itself into the mountain, and in the front extended in a platform all the way to the walltops, gargoyles and crenelations acting as architectural staples. Inside the courtyard, several buildings stood... but it was the outer gate where Sharpie finally stumbled to a landing.

"Urgh..." Panting, she brushed her suit off and blew a stray mane hair away from her mouth, produced a card key from a pocket, and strode up to the gate. It was unstaffed, a sleek console accepting the identification instead and beeping as a wrought iron grate rolled aside. Brightcoil quickly stepped through, and Gerardo made to follow her, when he was stopped by a hoof. "Hold on," Sharpie muttered, punching at the console. "Give me a minute..."

There was a ding, and something printed itself out from a slot at the bottom. Sharpie reached down and took it. "Visitor badge," she mumbled around the scrap. "Take it. You need it in here, and it's not my fault if you get in trouble without it. This isn't Ironridge anymore."

Gerardo nodded, affixing the card to his lapel. "Completely sensible. I shall endeavor to keep it as safe as safe can be."

"Suit... suit yourself..." Sharpie bit back a yawn. "Our quarters are this way. I'll handle things in the morning. And now, I'm tired, so don't bother me until then. At all."

"Of course," Gerardo replied, nodding once again and slipping in behind them in silence.


"I... seem to see what you meant about only having one bed," Gerardo remarked, standing in the entrance to Sharpie and Brightcoil's generously-named house. It wasn't so much a statement about the number of beds in the room as a testament to the lack of anything besides that one bed. Two suitcases lay open against a wall, a closet-sized room sat in a corner that likely had no space for a shower, and there was a tiny table with standing room only. The walls were undecorated and predominantly gray, as was the floor, ceiling, and single window. There was a small mirror, a half-unpacked bag of groceries, and that was it.

"It isn't much," Brightcoil admitted, standing next to Gerardo as Sharpie shrugged her way out of her suit. "It's less that we're poor and more that it's hard for the yaks to be fond of ponies in a profession like hers, and we only live here because Skyfreeze makes them let us. Some day, when Sharpie can retire, we're going to buy a nice Stone District mansion with plenty of room, and live more happily there. Or maybe we'll even go to a nicer part of the Earth District, and never have to deal with upper-district problems again. Everyone talks about it like it's a slum district, but almost all of them have never actually been there. Really, parts of it are very nice..."

Finished with her suit, Sharpie slithered up between the bed and a titanic mound of blankets, disappearing completely. A single hoof stuck back out, patting in invitation. Brightcoil looked at it, then back at Gerardo. "You can sleep on the floor, or... wherever, I guess. I really do hope in the morning we can help each other, Gerardo."

"As do I," Gerardo whispered back as she joined her companion under the covers. "As do I..."