//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: So We Packed // Story: Through the Aurora // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Theo could barely lift her claws as she made her way into Sleighsburg. Here the earthquake hadn’t just torn up rocks and opened random holes over nothing—here the devastation was real and extremely pronounced. There weren’t thousands of bodies littering the streets—there weren’t even thousands of ponies in the entire village. But there was terrible damage to everything she could see. Houses had come crashing down—sections of wooden bridge over ice had collapsed, and gaps had widened. Already makeshift repairs were underway—windows being filled in with boards, or bridges made over the gaps with a few planks. How could the earthquake have been this bad? How did it reach this far? The energies required boggled the mind, yet the results were inarguable. And worst of all was exactly what the village elder had described. The distant docks, with their little shacks and moored boats out on the water, were gone completely. Only ragged ice remained to mark where they had gone. She wasn’t the only one having trouble. Sharp had needed to help Emerald back onto the sledge. The pegasus didn’t respond to promptings, and barely even seemed to breathe. Seeing her home so destroyed over something she had a hoof in was obviously affecting her. “No,” she kept muttering. “Can’t be. They’re wrong.” But while the child might’ve felt a little bad about it, Theo would have to live with the nightmares. If this was the cost of opening the Doorway home, she wasn’t sure she could ever open it again. “Why didn’t you tell me this would happen?” she asked, as they finally made it through town and reached Sharp’s workshop. Much of the mob hadn’t returned to their homes as she had initially thought—they seemed to be surrounding the workshop. Making sure that they couldn’t leave. “I wanted to go home, but… not if this would happen. This cost is too high.” “It didn’t do this before,” Edge responded, pulling into the open workshop and gently lowering the metal door behind them. “What happened… that wasn’t natural. Maybe that’s what happens when we try to run the spell without enough magic.” “Wait, you’ve opened it before? I thought you said you needed a hippogriff to work the controls!” Edge turned away from her, and obviously spoke through gritted teeth. “Later, Theo. We have until morning to get the Horizon into the air and away from this place.” He dropped down beside Emerald, his expression softening. “Hey, sweetheart. Is there… someone else I should contact? Other family, maybe…” She shook her head. “Mom w-was… only pony I knew. Dad was a sailor, never met him. Grandma died before I was born. J-just us…” The weight of it all came crashing down, far worse than any breaking bridge or splintering dock. The elder had mentioned the name of a pony who had died. Their names were all so strange and unfamiliar she hadn’t realized she knew it. Oh god. Emerald Aurora’s mother. I got her mom killed. She dropped onto her haunches, staring blankly out into space. Everything had made so much sense before—even on the trip back from the broken Doorway, there was a path in front of her. She could talk to a diplomat, she could beg for help. That all made perfect sense. But how could she live with herself knowing that this was the result? The world blurred in front of her. She barely felt the cold anymore. She went back inside with Sharp, and dimly felt it as he helped her down beside a fire. Meanwhile, he rushed about, doors slammed, and he seemed to be working hard. What might’ve fascinated her before, she didn’t even watch. “Why?” squeaked a tiny voice from the couch beside the fire. Emerald. “Why was she out so late? She should’ve b-been home. Shouldn’t have been… anywhere near the distillery. Said she wouldn’t drink so much. Shouldn’t have been there.” She’s not mad at me? Theo reached out with one wing, instincts taking over. This child looked like someone had run over her cat. But clearly her assessment was wrong, because the pegasus puffed herself up, pushing out of reach. The only sign Theo needed that her affection wasn’t wanted. “Hey,” said a voice from behind her, maybe an hour later. Sharp Edge looked worn to the bone—his mane was slick with grease, and he smelled more like a barnyard than he had yet. Damn do I need to find a way to thank him. He could’ve let them banish me to the snow. He pulled that sledge all the way back, and he’s still preparing everything without us. “Sorry I can’t give you more time,” he said, lifting the goggles away from his face. “I’ve prepared all the weight we can afford, including your things. But filling the gasbag is a two-pony job. I need you out there.” She rose, following him out through the workshop. Many of his tools were missing now, she noted. But the front of the workshop was open, and standing outside it… There was no longer a massive snowbank on one side of the hill, which she'd taken to be safety railing to protect the townspeople using the granary from falling off. But several large tarps lay crumpled in a pile, with loose snow everywhere. Not a snowbank at all, but a structure protected from the elements. A set of brilliant work lamps lit the space as brightly as propane camp torches, illuminating a wooden object roughly the size of two Greyhound buses in a row, with a cabin and a larger top deck. It rested atop an old wooden deck, held down with thick mooring ropes. Above it was a massive pile of cloth, obviously a balloon. A set of heavy steel barrels had been dragged out, along with a heavy box with metal filings inside it. “What’s… this?” “The Horizon,” he said, tapping the wooden wall with one hoof. “Best little ship north of the Empire. I knew I’d be flying home when this was over, just like I flew in.” He settled a metal container on the ground near the side of the ship, where the cloth hung down almost like a funnel. “This is how we do it. Bought this from the alchemist three months ago. Two hundred gallons oil of vitriol. Honestly I’d be terrified to store so much if it wasn’t for the cold. But… here it is, right when we need it.” Theo glanced past the Horizon, to where the crowd of angry ponies had only grown since they arrived back. Doesn’t look like they’re going to be giving us until dawn. Good thing you got me when you did, Sharp. “So what do we do?” “Easy.” He gestured. “I pour the vitriol over iron filings, and they’ll make lift gas. And lots of other things.” He reached down, tossing a heavy mask with thick goggles over to Theo. “Put this on. And don’t stand close enough that it splashes you. We just have to catch enough gas to fill the balloon. It’s already anchored pretty well, so it won’t take off.” Theo watched him work with only a little curiosity, far too worn down from everything that had happened that day to get too invested in what she was seeing. More pony magic? It should’ve been interesting, but after so many impossible things, what was one more? Then she saw inside the barrel, and caught the faint odor of what was inside through her mask. Holy shit. She recognized that stench from the other side of a fume hood during her only organic chemistry class. This wasn’t some airy bit of fluffy horse magic—that was high molarity sulphuric acid. She no longer had any confusion about why Sharp wore such a thick apron, or heavy mittens over his hooves. He lowered the barrel carefully, pouring its deadly contents into the huge bowl. The metal started to melt, sending a steady stream of bubbles up towards the surface—and out into the air into the funnel. This isn’t going to be a short process, is it? Some part of her brain wanted to start making guesses about the acid in the barrels and the amount of iron in front of her, but that part of her academic self had shriveled up and died when the earthquake cut off half of Sleighsburg. “You do this every time you have to fly somewhere?” she asked, after several hours of standing there. Her whole body was beginning to ache, but she fought back the discomfort. The mob was large enough that she couldn’t see the hill in places, and at times it seemed like the cloud of gas and the strange “magic” they were doing was the only thing that kept them at bay. The balloon was holding itself at full size on its own now, rather than staying crumpled on the Horizon. But it still didn’t seem to have enough lift to get off the ground. She no longer wondered why they had walked so far away from his house—this thing was massive. “Nah. You can buy lift gas in any city with a drydock. Crystal Empire, Canterlot, Cloudsdale, Los Pegasus… basically everywhere has tanks. Making it yourself is… for emergencies.” He glanced around at the house, whistling faintly to himself. “I’ll miss this place. Spent the last few years tinkering with it, but… it probably won’t be intact if I ever visit. Not after having to threaten them to stop them from banishing you.” “You didn’t have to do that,” she hissed, barely louder than the frothing tub between them. She knew several dozen health agencies that would be furious at what they did once they were finished with one tub—dumping the entire thing into a ditch, then starting anew. God only knew what havoc that would wreak on any plants or ponies that were exposed to it. Is iron sulfide salt dangerous? She didn’t actually know, and she wasn’t going to use precious power on her iPad to check something so stupid. “I did,” Sharp snapped, yanking the tub away and dumping it again. He replaced the iron in the bottom, then poured again. Smooth and mechanical. “I’ve spent years of my life studying the Doorway, hoping a Traveler might use it. What happened here in Sleighsburg wasn’t your fault. None of us could’ve known what the portal would do. I was here, so I acted. It’s the pony way.” She rolled her eyes, glancing past Sharp to the gathering of angry faces. It didn’t seem to Theo like the pony way was all that friendly, even if there were a few exceptions. Another hour or so on, and she was beginning to see the first hints of orange in the sky. The Horizon was straining at its ropes, and the last of the barrels was empty. “We still have one question to answer…” he said, capping off the barrel and rolling it into the poison ditch with the tray and the degenerate iron salt. Hopefully such a foul-smelling patch of ground where nothing would grow would discourage ponies from exploring it. Even if these ones had wanted to banish her to the sea. “Emerald Aurora. Apparently her mother was her only family in Sleighsburg. Not… very good at it either, even if I never would’ve wished harm on her. She’ll have to decide whether to come with us, or… depend on their charity.” “The charity of people who wanted to drown me in the arctic, because an earthquake happened at the same time we were gone?” She rolled her eyes. “Emerald wanted to be your apprentice anyway, Sharp. She’s better off with us.” “Only she can make that decision.” Sharp gestured, and they hurried inside. With the sun rising, she could see the urgency. The mob was tired, cold, and angry. The closer to dawn it got, the greater the chance they’d decide to act. But the pegasus they’d come for was asleep. Sharp nudged her gently with one hoof, where she’d curled up on the pillows beside the dying fire. She yawned, pushing him away with a wing. “Mom? Can I have five more minutes?” Sharp winced. “Emerald, sweetie. Summer and I are leaving. If you’re going to come with us… now is the time.” She stirred, stretching her limbs one at a time before rolling to the side and going back to snoring. “Alright, spread out,” Sharp said. “I’m making a call. She’d want to come. There’s nothing here for her.” At the shouting from outside, his eyes widened. “Maybe… we should get a move on too. Before some genius among ponies decides to take a torch near the lift-gas.