//------------------------------// // Chapter 14 // Story: The First Republic // by Starscribe //------------------------------// We couldn’t exactly go anywhere to escape the presence of our rescuer—his strange device was the only reason we were still alive, slicing through the ash and somehow leaving an intact trail behind. I couldn’t begin to imagine how it could actually work, or how it could produce traversable paths without having them collapse on us. But that also mattered far less to me. I had a captive subject for an interview, so long as he didn’t leave us behind. So under the increasing weight of ash over our heads, with the trail collapsing behind us almost as fast as we made it, I began my interview. Did you stay behind when Mons Ignis erupted? Yes. Why? Accipio was ours. I wasn’t going to leave it because of an angry mountain. How many birds did you know who felt that way? Almost everyone. If I belonged to a clan who left, I would know birds who wanted to leave. I stayed, and my friends wanted to stay too. I feel the resentment from my subject building already. I can’t push him too far, or else risk him abandoning us to this strange place. I have to be careful. What was it like? Bad. What did you see? Ash. We’re far from the eruption, you can see. No lava flow here. But the worst killers are unseen. While the ash smothers everything, there is a… poison smoke, that comes with it. It hangs heavy, clinging to the ground. Doesn’t blow away. This is new information to me. I’ve heard from volcanologists about the gas that would’ve been released from Ignis. It certainly would’ve been toxic, but also would’ve been somewhat limited in range. It shouldn’t have reached out his far. I note it anyway, attracting a little more annoyance. I suspect it’s because I’m male, but he doesn’t call it out specifically. This is the point that Radiant Dawn finally joins in, her voice tentative in the darkness and cold. She is clearly afraid to be down here, and never gets too far from me. Even now, she stays beside me at all times, matching my pace. She’s already saved my life twice today. Why didn’t you want to leave when the ash started falling? He laughs at the question, bitter and distant. Fly where, little princess? The sky was filled with burning ash for weeks. The winds that carried it could scour the feathers from your body. Down here, it looked like the whole world was dying. Where could we go? At least here we had shelter, and food, and water. While it lasted. But where Ignis took, the stuff of Ignis fills in the gaps. Seeps between the stones and the windows. You saw them. The watch goes on below the ash. I had seen, or at least seen signs of activity. I will have to take that knowledge back to Equestria, and possibly face the ridicule of Princess Twilight when I finally deliver it. But I can’t deny how right he was. I heard their claws marching along the rocky trail even down here. But some of you made it. It isn’t a question, but he treats it like one, once he’s finished laughing. Every vulture has a little of Ignis in their blood. It changes them—they look like they should be circling over the dead. White feathers, long neck—you know the look. I think maybe the dead recognize them too, since it’s the same power in them. As he says this, I’m struck with a sudden realization. Cyrus doesn’t look like a vulture, not the parts of him I can see. His feathers remind me a little of an oceangoing hawk, at least where a few peek out of his protective clothing. I assume he must be telling the truth because of Radiant Dawn’s reaction, though. She never questions him. My father really does want to help you. He wants to reunite Accipio, the way it was before Mons Ignis erupted. He wants to repair the climate and clear away the ash. Again it isn’t a question, and again he doesn’t seem to care. Your father has no idea what he’s getting into. It’s not my place to question Accipio’s emperor, but he’s going to find more trouble before he succeeds. The dead will not wither when the ash is taken—they will rise to anger. You can’t reason with the corpses of ash. Their minds are filled with the hatred Mons Ignis felt for all life. Does your father realize he is provoking a war against the dead? Radiant Dawn doesn’t answer, though I can see her shock at the response. Clearly she doesn’t think it’s much more plausible than I do. But at least it’s a chance to get some control of the situation back. How did you survive? Every vulture has their own story. Usually it’s a combination of good luck and preparation. It wasn’t hard to stockpile supplies before the end, with so many birds flying west to Equestria. They couldn’t take it with them, but we could store it. Some used the Old Magic to protect themselves from types of harm. Our trails were all bought with the blood of vultures, you will see. The stones are red for a reason. We’ve been walking down the mountain for some time, and we don’t have very far at all to go before we see some of these stones for ourselves. Cyrus is right, the cobblestone path does look red. Like the red rock of the deserts south of Appleloosa, except that I know full well the rock here is mostly black. The highway forms a dreary backdrop for our discussion, with a ceiling vaulted high overhead. The ash seems pressed hard to something unseen, a ceiling I can’t clearly make out. Sunlight stains it red, or at least I assume it must be sunlight. It might be blood too for all I can tell. What do you think the Emperor should do? Maybe too bold, but for once Cyrus seems eager to answer. I think he should stick to his own sky and leave the dead to theirs. Accipio is massive, and there is plenty of good land that never had the ash. Just because Ignis was in the core of the old empire doesn’t mean he has to reclaim that land first. Our interview ended with a whimper of indifference, not because I was out of questions to ask, but because I wasn’t brave enough to keep interrogating a bird who had wanted to leave me to die in the ash. Dawn’s encouragement bought me leeway I didn’t want to waste. Dawn moved a little closer in the silence, retreating some distance behind Cyrus with me. At least there we didn’t have his eyes on us. There was no sign of life down here, but at least there didn’t seem to be any dead down here either. Just the road, and the strange magic that protected it. A subterranean world that wasn’t even properly underground. “I’m going to your flying lessons when we get back,” Dawn said. “If I hear you complain even one time, I’m going to make you eat a bowl of ash.” “I won’t complain,” I answered, with complete sincerity. “I wish it hadn’t been so easy to ignore in Equestria. I never thought I would need to fly.” Even Cyrus laughed at that, though he didn’t speak further. He had left the strange machine, and now he had only his heavy pack worn threadbare rubbing against the ash, and his jacket. Even with the ash and the ceiling so high above us, he didn’t remove them. I wanted to pull down the mask, but at this rate having a silly thing on my face was probably safer than attracting their attention. We made camp when it got dark, there on the side of the path. We made no fire, but Cyrus had his lantern we could use as a makeshift campfire, and a bundle of cloth for each of us to sleep on. He offered a can of foul-smelling fish to the princess to eat, which she offered to share. But even if it hadn’t smelled like it had gone off before I was born, I wouldn’t have tried it. Better to go hungry for a bit. Dawn curled up beside me in her shabby cloth, her voice low and frightened. “You think we’ll get to see the sun again?” she asked, several hours after Cyrus had gone off to bed. He wasn’t sleeping anywhere near us. But I didn’t mind the privacy. “It’s so… strange. Like there should be stars overhead. You think I could fly through all that to the surface?” I shook my head vigorously. “Don’t even think about it, Dawn. If you drown in ash, I’ll—” I hesitated, swallowing something stupid. “Your father would probably blame me for it, declare war on Equestria or something. Can’t have that.” “Oh, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t serious. I’m just thinking about it. Maybe there’s a spell we could use. Do you think a unicorn could get through that?” “With a teleport. Princess Twilight can go from one end of Equestria to the other in just a few seconds, that’s what they say. She attends events all over the country, and nopony ever sees her get on the train. But I’m not a unicorn, and neither are you.  “Amazing what they can do,” she whispered. “But they’re not the only ones. I hear there’s a place called, uh… Seaquestria? A whole kingdom of hippogriffs, that hid from the eruption under the ocean? Is that true?” I nodded. “I don’t know much about them. Only that they spend most of their time underwater. They have cities on land and under the ocean, and each one has a… necklace, I think… that lets them change back and forth.” “Makes you think how a kingdom like that could get started,” she said, voice distant. “Hybrids like that, enough for a whole country.” Not really. Thanks to your parents I know pretty well how it started. But that was too crude, I felt myself flush red at the thought. “Guess so.” She fell asleep soon after that, and I did too. I woke the next morning, hungry and sore, but I still woke up. We’d been shot down by some… undead dragon-thing, and lived. The sky above was faint orange with the diffraction of distant sunlight, along with an even glow of warmth, much weaker than the scorch waiting up there. There was little to say as we set off again. At least there was water down here, in a series of wells that we accessed with an old-fashioned bucket and rope. The water was acidic and flat, but better than dying. We walked. For a few days. Eventually we found ourselves on a widening road, with the sounds of motion coming from all sides. Cyrus stopped us, pointing up a slope to a gradual incline and many distant figures. “That’s it, the way to Carrion. Keep your faces covered until you get to the high city. There’s no hiding what you are, Princess. But if you keep concealed, most will probably not look too closely. Best not to chance it until you’re in the sun again.” “Wait.” Dawn frowned at him. “You’re… not going with us? Don’t you want your reward?” He shook his head. “What I need, no living bird can give.” He reached out, patting her once on the shoulder. “Teach your father some wisdom, if you can. And if you can’t… rule with it yourself, when your time comes. Keep the living away from the dead. Don’t force a conflict that neither side wants. In that battle, only Ignis wins. Don’t give it the victory.” He retreated a few steps, turning to leave. Dawn stared at him, raising a claw in protest. “Wait! It wouldn’t be fair to you, Cyrus! You took us so far!” He ignored her, turning sharply to one side. Dawn followed, taking to the air. There was enough space in the tunnel for it, though it was a near thing. Ash billowed around her as she closed the distance. “Don’t go!” Cyrus turned straight into one of the walls. He didn’t have his device, yet—he passed through the ash. A few scraps of cloth caught there, ancient and withered. The bird was gone.