//------------------------------// // Part 10: The Wizard // Story: A Million Miles from Home // by TooShyShy //------------------------------// The Wizard of Canterlot was a lot darker than Lyra remembered. In fact, she wondered how she'd ever considered it a “foals' story”. The Wizard seemed a more morally ambiguous figure than Lyra recalled. He attempted to teach misguided souls compassion, but he was also willing to kill the Wicked Queen's minions without remorse. He always appeared to be acting more in his own interest than in service of either good or evil. The book ended on a surprisingly happy note. The Wizard saved Canterlot, the Wicked Queen was “drained” of her wickedness, and the ponies who'd been cursed were cured. The conclusion was exactly as Lyra had remembered it, right down to The Wizard's triumphant final monologue. She closed the book and finally allowed her thoughts to go free. Lyra had expected something from The Wizard of Canterlot, but instead of revelations or answers she had been burdened with a hundred more questions. Strangely, one of these many questions was “Who is The Wizard?” Lyra knew The Wizard was a fictional character in an equally fictional story. But since she was a filly, she had looked up to The Wizard as a beacon of kindness and a symbol of determination. Her admiration of him as an explorer and an adventurer had fueled her desire to chase conspiracies. But Lyra was now seeing him without the idealistic filter of a young pony. Maybe I'm The Wizard, she thought. For if one looked behind the Wizard's intentions, they would see a liar, a murderer, and a trickster. If somepony looked behind Lyra's intentions, they'd see only selfishness and thievery. It was her fault that Moondancer had been kidnapped. What had Lyra gained from her pursuit of truth? Only more questions and more heartache. She was beginning to wonder if keeping her head down and never asking questions would have been preferable. Two days after Lyra found the book, she returned it to the Pie sisters' bedroom. She waited until everypony was outside, then slipped into their bedroom and pulled out the box. Lyra started emptying it, haphazardly dumping things onto the floor. Lyra carefully placed the book back into its place. “You're a nosy pony, aren't you?” Lyra said nothing. She withdrew her head from the box and straightened up. Lyra slid the box back into the closet, the smile not leaving her mouth. She closed the closet door, then finally turned around. Cloudy Quartz hadn't moved from the doorway. She was staring at Lyra with disapproval, but also a subtle touch of sadness. She did not resemble a mother about to scold her foal. Cloudy instead looked like a very old mare who was losing a fight against herself. “The nosiest pony you'll ever meet,” said Lyra. The expression on Cloudy's face more than expressed her feelings for meddling ponies. But despite displaying her feelings so plainly, she did not voice them. She could have ordered Lyra out of the house. However, Cloudy Quartz appeared to realize the futility. Lyra was tired of being ordered around and even more tired of being intimidated. She had officially run out of bucks to give. Lyra stared Cloudy Quartz down without fear. Her unwavering smile steadily withered Cloudy Quartz's stern expression. Cloudy Quartz let out a tired sigh. She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. “You city ponies don't know what's best for you,” she said. “You never know when to leave things alone.” She smiled sadly. “When I was about your age, I lived in the city for a few weeks,” Cloudy Quartz said. “I was so dazzled by it all. Equestria had never before felt so lively and massive. When I came back to the rock farm, it was like waking up from a beautiful dream. I wanted to go back.” Cloudy Quartz trotted to the bed. She curled up in the middle of it, tucking her hooves underneath her body. “But I've never been back,” she said. “This is where I belong.” Lyra went over to the bed and curled up next to Cloudy Quartz. She should have felt comfy, but an invisible wall stood between her and Cloudy. Lyra knew she would never walk past that wall. She would never get a glimpse into Cloudy's brain and see all those emotions straining for dominance. “This copy of The Wizard of Canterlot was yours, wasn't it?” said Lyra. Cloudy Quartz was staring down at the blanket underneath them. Her eyes were tracing the beautiful pattern. She seemed to be reliving a history Lyra could not begin to imagine. “I don't think a lot of ponies know the story of that book,” said Cloudy Quartz musingly. “The author originally intended it for an older audience. He meant it to be some kind of groundbreaking commentary on modern society. But literary critics disliked it so much that it was yanked from the shelves within weeks. The author rewrote it and republished it as a foals' book. It became a bestseller in days.” Lyra understood why the book had seemed so unusually mature and contrary to her memories. The Wizard she'd idolized as a foal had been the result of a hasty rewrite. But at its heart, The Wizard of Canterlot had never truly changed. Perhaps it was those subtle glimpses into the author's original intentions that had made Lyra cling to this otherwise insignificant example of classic literature. Lyra was so entangled in her thoughts that she almost missed Cloudy Quartz's words. “That pony said the notebook would help me,” Cloudy Quartz said. “I read it from cover to cover, but I couldn't understand.” Lyra's thoughts came to a standstill. A theory had been coming together, a series of connections encircling her brain. This vague explanation was shoved aside. “What pony?” she demanded. But Cloudy Quartz's mind was somewhere else. “The well,” she said. “I'd dream about it almost every night when I was a filly. Falling into it, climbing out of it, trapped and then rescued. It was even worse after my first daughter was born. I'd dream about her falling into the well, a well so deep even the world's fastest pegasus would die before they reached her. Igneous never understood why it got to me so much. He said it was just a dream and that we'd never let anything happen to her.” Lyra nodded, but she was only partially listening. “What pony?” she said again. Cloudy Quartz jumped off the bed. She had a tormented look on her face, as if she'd been sifting through her own traumatic memories. Whatever the case, Cloudy Quartz was clearly no longer up to making conversation. She rapidly departed the bedroom without looking back. Lyra stayed where she was. For the first time in a long while, her mind was bringing her to some conclusions. Lyra returned to the notebook that night. She started over from the beginning. Lyra drank in all the information the notebook could give her, her brain hovering over every word and diagram. If there was something of dire importance between the lines, Lyra was going to dig it out. A part Lyra had previously skimmed over jumped out at her immediately. Confounded, Lyra reread the paragraph several times. Certain lines seemed to move out of focus with each new reading. Eventually only a mere sentence stood out to her, a single word in that sentence coiling itself around Lyra's racing thoughts. I took them to the well. The well. Lyra's heartbeat accelerated. The sentence was referring to the notebook's author disposing of some old clothes. Lyra had passed from it with only a lighthearted comment about practicality. But this time those two words had sucked Lyra in. She remembered the well in the picture she'd stolen for Moondancer and she recalled Cloudy Quartz's words. She could not believe this was an innocent coincidence. This felt too designed. But if Lyra was meant to find a well, where was it? There were hundreds of wells in Equestria. Moondancer would know, Lyra thought. She was starting to believe that Moondancer had been holding back. A pony who prided herself on having answers couldn't be as in the dark as she appeared. Lyra's heart twisted itself into a painful knot at the idea. If Moondancer had been keeping things from her, there was a chance that Moondancer couldn't be trusted. How did Lyra know Moondancer had disappeared unwillingly? Speculations were their own special torment. Lyra wouldn't be content until she knew. Whether the information brought woe or joy, she needed it. Impatient, Lyra closed the notebook and slid it under her pillow. Having realized that it was Cloudy Quartz who'd been in her room that night, she was less worried. Nevertheless, the notebook was too important to leave out in the open. She went to Igneous and Cloudy's bedroom. Lyra knocked softly on the closed door. She immediately heard stirring inside, as if somepony had been waiting for her. The door swung open, revealing Cloudy Quartz. She did not look tired or annoyed. Cloudy Quartz was as austere as ever, her tight bun and flawlessly perched glasses suggesting she hadn't even been to bed. “How can I help you?” she said. The questions were piling into Lyra's mind. She opened her mouth, but she didn't speak right away. She was afraid that some garbled mess of queries would come tumbling out. Lyra spent a few seconds rounding up her squirming thoughts, then she spoke. “Why did you want me to have that notebook?” she asked. Cloudy Quartz smiled. The smile swept over her face like a paintbrush across a canvas. Years of heartache and struggles were painted over in an instant. In that brief moment before the corners of Cloudy's mouth drooped, the decades seemed to dissolve from her face. “Who else was going to make sense of it?” said Cloudy. “Unicorn magic is beyond me.” It made sense, but Lyra was flabbergasted. “Why didn't you just give it to me?” she demanded. “Why all the secrecy, for buck's sake?” Cloudy's face turned forebodingly severe. She stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind her. “Because I wasn't supposed to give it to you,” she said. “The pony who gave it to me said I was meant to keep it safe until they returned. I never break a promise. But its been years!” She gave her head a rueful shake. “If that pony ever comes back, I don't want them to know I betrayed them,” said Cloudy Quartz. “I never should have accepted the cursed thing.” Cloudy Quartz looked into Lyra's eyes. “Do you know what that pony told me?” she said. “Do you know what they said to get me to take the notebook?” That wayward fear was back. Lyra could feel it crawling across her back, burrowing into her fur. But she was frozen in place, waiting for Cloudy Quartz's next words. “She said I knew the truth,” said Cloudy Quartz. “She said I'd known the truth all along, but it was too much for me to take.” Cloudy Quartz moved closer to Lyra. “I dreamed about you,” she said. “I saw you coming here. I saw you reading the notebook. My clairvoyance isn't what it used to be, but I still trust everything I see.” Her tone had once been calm, but it suddenly turned urgent. “Another pony is coming,” Cloudy Quartz said. “She'll come in two days' time. You shouldn't be here when she arrives.” Lyra swore under her breath. There was only one pony who could be following Lyra. Fleur would lurk at the corners of Lyra's life for all eternity, making sure that Lyra could never stop running. As Lyra stared into Cloudy's eyes, a thought struck her: What if Fleur wasn't looking for her? What if there was an element she was missing? Why hadn't Fleur found Lyra in Dodge City during those months, yet she had found her at the Pies' residence with ease? How had Fleur found her in Appleloosa all that time ago? Lyra could feel her mind opening up to a thousand possibilities. It was as if somepony had shined a light through a dark hallway, the beam hitting Lyra directly in the eyes. The light blinded her, but within the intensity she could see everything. “She doesn't want me,” said Lyra. “She wants the notebook.” When Fleur had arrived in Appleloosa, she hadn't been after Lyra. Her and Lyra had been on the same field all along, perhaps only separated by their motives. Fleur had wanted the letter. She'd followed Lyra all the way to Canterlot in order to get it. “I have to go,” said Lyra breathlessly. She galloped back into her room. Lyra grabbed her saddlebag from under the bed and started packing her few belongings. She snatched the notebook from under her pillow and shoved it as deep into the bag as she could. Lyra hardly even noticed what she was doing. Her thoughts were still racing. Family. It all came back to family. First the Apples, then the Pies. If Lyra was going to find that well, she needed to look towards that word for guidance. Cloudy Quartz watched Lyra from the doorway for a minute. When it became obvious that Lyra wasn't going to slow down, Cloudy reluctantly stepped over the threshold. “If you're going to leave, take Marble with you,” she said. Lyra froze in the middle of folding her quilt. She turned to Cloudy Quartz, dumbfounded. “Why would I do that?” she said. Cloudy Quartz appeared to be grappling with her own thoughts. Although her expression told nothing, the internal struggle was apparent. “She likes you,” said Cloudy. “You've become a good friend to her in a short amount of time. Marble might not look it, but she's a strong pony. We Pies are more resilient than we appear.” She paused. Lyra was astonished to see Cloudy Quartz's eyes fill with genuine compassion. “You shouldn't be alone,” said Cloudy Quartz. She didn't explain herself, but Lyra knew what Cloudy Quartz had seen in her eyes. It was the same thing Marble had seen all that time ago in Dodge City. Cloudy Quartz had lifted the curtain and looked deep into Lyra's heart, deeper than Lyra herself could reach. “I'll be fine,” said Lyra. But Cloudy gave a slow shake of her head. “Take Marble with you,” she said. “You'll be able to keep each other safe.” Lyra thought of Fleur, of the notebook, and of all the knowledge she now held in her hooves. Would she be able to keep anypony safe? Would anypony around her be able to live a peaceful life after they parted ways? “I need a map, some food, and some bits if you can spare them,” said Lyra. Cloudy Quartz nodded, then she hastened out of the room. Lyra grabbed her saddlebag and levitated the quilt onto her back. She trotted over to the window and opened it. A blast of cold night air hit Lyra directly in the face, stunning her for a second. She shook her head to clear it, then started through the window flank-first. Lyra didn't know where she was going, only that she was going alone. Nopony else was getting tangled up in her adventure. Stepping out into the night, Lyra closed the window behind her. She was eager to get away. Lyra turned around. She shoved a hoof over her mouth, muffling a scream. A pony stood before Lyra, their form draped in darkness. Lyra could make out a long mane and something bulky at the pony's side. For one petrifying moment, she thought yet another nightmare had bled into reality. “Um, excuse me?” The “ghost” spoke in a polite, bashful voice. The voice freed Lyra from her trance. Regaining her senses, she lit up her horn. The intense beam fell on a familiar blushing pony. Said pony was carrying a bulging saddlebag. “Marble, what in Celestia's name are you doing?” Lyra said. She knew the answer before Marble spoke. There was only one reason Marble Pie would be outside in the middle of the night. “I'm going with you,” said Marble. The timid little mare seemed to have temporarily vanished. She was staring Lyra down, openly challenging her to object. Lyra wasn't sure if this was the result of her influence. Perhaps there had always been fire behind Marble's shyness. Lyra started to speak, but Marble wasn't having any of it. “I know what you're looking for,” she said. “I saw it in my dream.” Lyra sighed, surrendering to her fate. She had finally confronted the root of that lurking fear: attachment. Lyra could not bear the thought of another pony clinging to her. But as much as Lyra disliked the idea, Lyra knew she shouldn't be alone. “The well?” she said reluctantly. Marble nodded. “I know where it is,” she said. The timidity was creeping back into her voice. A brief window in which Lyra could leave without protest had opened. But Lyra felt that even if Marble passively allowed her to go, the guilt would be too much. “Where?” said Lyra. Marble blushed. “I don't know where exactly,” she said. “I just know what the place looks like. I've never been there.” Lyra glanced at the closed window. She had questions for Cloudy Quartz, but another mystery was calling to her. “Let's get going,” said Lyra. She started trotting away. Marble fell into step beside her. They trotted close in the darkness. In two days' time, Fleur would come in search of the notebook. Perhaps she would offer to buy it from the Pie family for a generous price. Little did Fleur know that the notebook was tucked safely into Lyra's saddlebag. A single question nagged at Lyra's mind: What would Fleur do when she realized Lyra had taken the notebook?