We made the visit to the palace as quick as we could, and not just because every moment seemed like the one where Princess Twilight might finally decide it was time to put an end to my ridiculous adventure. It wasn’t just her daughter who had enough of Gilda’s attitude—at this point, it seemed like only a matter of time before she upset Dawn as well.
I did stop at the telegraph office before we finished with the trip, long enough to transcribe a brief message to the court.
AM RETURNING FROM GRIFFONSTONE WITH RADIANT DAWN STOP. LEFT ON GOOD TERMS STOP. WILL RETURN TO CANTERLOT BY DEADLINE STOP.
Once that was sent, we were on the clock to be out of the city before Princess Twilight decided to teleport there—assuming she would. For all I knew, my worry might be in vain. It could be that she didn’t care, or that she would approve of my path to diplomacy. I didn’t intend to stay long enough to find out.
“All the way to New Scythia,” Dawn said. The Daughter of Wintergreen finally rose above Griffonstone, turning into the wind that would take us to the Badlands, and the little sovereign state of griffon outcasts who hadn’t wanted to go home. “This is all a dream, Contrail. I never thought I’d be out of my father’s sight, and now… now I’m doing everything!”
She wrapped her foreleg around mine, holding close. I didn’t move, letting the blasting winds of high air lift my mane and billow around us.
“We’re still going to see the rest of Equestria, right?” she asked, voice suddenly nervous. “And Mt. Aris, and, uh… anything else I think of?”
“Absolutely,” I answered, without thinking. “I do have to finish the book, it’s my obligation to the Crown. And once I do…” I’d imagined I’d probably take up a tenured teaching position at the university, or maybe attend a few archeological digs. But I wouldn’t be teaching a class with Dawn to keep company for the next… year? And after that, maybe forever. “We can do whatever you want. So long as you don’t mind if I keep collecting information. There are more books to be written, more history that might be forgotten if somepony doesn’t make sure it sticks.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, scholar. I don’t want you to change.”
“I do,” Grimsley called from behind us, voice gruff. “This is cute, but I don’t see you scholaring right now, pony. That means you can be working. Get over here for a wing press.”
If my book ever gets printed, I might have a thousand made just for you, to be delivered all at once onto your head. I didn’t argue, though. The only way to get him to stop was to do what he asked.
The trip down to New Scythia took a few days, as much because of the distance as the route. Equestria kept corridors over the major cities, where high winds were channeled by attentive pegasus ponies to speed air traffic. Flying in one of them could cut travel time in half, and make a long trip possible for a naked pony if they were a good flyer.
Trouble was, they were patrolled and maintained by the navy, and all of them ran through Canterlot. If we took them, I would have no excuse not to visit the palace. Once that happened, there was a decent chance I’d never leave again.
So we flew along the coast instead, not avoiding any naval ships, but staying well away from centers of air power.
It worked. On the dawn of the fifth day, the distant borders of New Scythia were finally coming into view below us.
At first I thought we’d gone wildly off-course, and I had to run to the captain. “Hey, Bluejacket!” I called, staggering up to the helm. “Down there… is this right? Did we get blown up towards Baltimare during the night?”
He grinned. “Nothing of the sort, Contrail. That’s New Scythia.”
I stumbled back to the railing, staring down over the side.
A vast green countryside waited down there. Rolling fields of wheat grew in circular plots, with strange metallic watering machines rolling around and around. In the distance I could see the massive weather factory, bigger than Cloudsdale’s by miles. A massive intake current was already pulling at the Daughter of Wintergreen, even though we were coming in from the wrong direction. Moisture from thousands of empty miles, all converged in a factory almost as large as the city below.
“Woah.” Dawn landed beside me, still wearing a nightcap. She stared down at the city, eyes wide. “I wish we never left. This is…”
“A lot like Manehattan,” I finished for her. “Those are modern steel skyscrapers. But we don’t usually connect them so much.” No one building stood alone down there—vast bridges connected them, some wide enough that they’d been built into gardens and parks. The streets below were packed with motor vehicles, all converging on the single gigantic train station near the north end of the city. “It’s like Manehattan if it was… designed in modern day, instead of growing piecemeal for a thousand years. All chosen to match our needs.”
“No ash,” Dawn said. “So many birds down there, but… no masks, no cloaks.” She leaned down over the edge, not seeming to notice when her cap went flying off her head in the wind. I reached for it, but of course I didn’t stand a chance of retrieving it.
She didn’t care. “There are… so many ponies down there too.”
She wasn’t wrong. Actually, of all the creatures I could see, most seemed to be ponies. Earth ponies, of the drab colors that could come from only one place. Accipio’s former slaves. They tended to the fields, they ran the trains, they walked about in the fancy buildings—they ate and joked and talked with griffons in cafes and restaurants.
Bluejacket made his way over from the helm, not looking nearly as blown away by what we saw as we were. “You’ve been here before,” I guessed.
“The route between Caesarea and New Scythia is one of the busiest we fly. Lots of birds fly back and forth. Can’t decide where they want to live, or… want to bring relatives to live with them here. It’s no place for me to say how a bird ought to live, Princess… but I know there are some who don’t much care for the idea of living in ash. But there’s this new place, just waiting for them. Ponies too, but they mostly get here by train. All traffic to Mt. Aris flows through here, and it’s fairly cheap for a seat if you don’t mind riding with cargo.”
I could see where most of the ponies would be working. A weather factory of this size must be employing thousands of us, to say nothing of the teams that went out gathering tropical storms from the ocean and harvesting their water.
“My father always… spoke about how important it was that we were rebuilding the homeland. It was supposed to be our inheritance. The ancestors had lived there for thousands of years, the ground was sacred. We’d fought monsters to take it once. We’ve shed so much blood that it’s in the stones, that’s how he put it.”
Bluejacket bowed deferentially. “As I said, forgive me for speaking of griffon matters. All I know is what I overhear from my passengers. Many of them think there’s a better life waiting for them here. Looks like there is, from how I see it.”
“How is it… run?” I asked. It didn’t seem like a question the captain could answer, but I didn’t have anypony else around who might know. At least he could point me in the right direction for an interview, maybe. “I know it isn’t part of Equestria. I think it’s on the Republic maps as a… colony? Something like that?”
“I don’t know what you scholars would call lit, or what box to put it in,” Bluejacket answered. “I know where to dock, where to pay my duties. I know that it’s some kinda… new thing. Ponies from far away and ponies from Equestria and birds all make decisions together. They’re not Equestria, but they’re bound by a few laws. You can guess the ones.”
About slavery, obviously. Half of Equestria still thought there were secret wings of trafficking and abuse going on just below the surface of Accipio. I hadn’t seen any of that, and I couldn’t imagine it happening here. Maybe my book would clear some of those old rumors away.
“Do we have to rush through New Scythia?” Dawn asked, her voice gentle in my ear. “I grew up here! I… don’t remember any of this. But I didn’t leave the palace much. I wonder if my old room is all still there.”
“It’s still there,” Bluejacket said. “Well, the palace is. Right there.” He pointed towards the center of the city. An impressive stone fortress rose there, every bit as secure as the one now standing in the griffon homeland. This one had most of its fortifications facing north, where an expected pony invasion force would arrive from. It still had soldiers, and as we got closer I could see those soldiers were still wearing Virtue colors. Weird.
“We don’t have to rush,” I said, resigning myself to whatever might happen as a result. “Just so long as you give me time to work on the book. This really is the last thing I wanted to see. There are ponies who think that… griffons and ponies could never do anything together. I want to make sure this makes it in.”
Captain Bluejacket landed the Daughter of Wintergreen in the massive central port, with huge signs proclaiming it “Freedman’s Landing.” Instead of being assaulted with strange smells and skeptical, predatory eyes, I found only smiles waiting for us as we climbed off the dock.
The crowds were mostly Accipian ponies, their coats in browns and creams and tans and their cutie marks only in black. Instead of a fancy restaurant, we stopped for breakfast at the sort of place I’d frequently shopped in school: a street cart.
“Time for your first pony culinary experience,” I said, passing Dawn the paper cone of hay fries. “These are called… well, it doesn’t matter. Eat them before I tell you what they’re made of. And that little red cup, that’s for dipping. If you want.”
She settled down into the chair across from me, looking skeptical. Then she took a bite, and her face twisted into a smile. “They’re so… crispy!”
“It’s called ‘deep fried.’ It’s incredibly bad for you, and we really shouldn’t eat it. But it’s great, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Is this… grass?” She took another bite. “Is this how ponies make it edible?”
I nodded. “One of the ways. Hay is… pretty awful by itself. You won’t hear any disagreement from me. But there are a couple of ways to fry it. Battered like this, or… mixed with mushrooms for hayburgers. I like the fries a little better.”
New Scythia didn’t exclude its grounded residents, though there were plenty of sky-level exits and entrances to the massive buildings. Those who couldn’t fly could move through the city using a motorized device I’d heard of on the west coast: a trolley.
We clambered into a pair of seats packed in among so many other ponies and birds, and soon we were on our way towards the fortress. Or the “Historic Capital,” as it was described. I bought us a tour, and soon enough we were through the gates.
We clambered up the steps, past a bronze statue of a fallen armored bird and a plaque describing some last stand in the siege.
This was where the war was decided. It seemed only fitting that I would end my book with a visit here.
We slipped away from the group when they were distracted with an old mural, dodging up the stairs. I winced as Dawn’s claws clattered on the stone, expecting soldiers to be right behind us at any moment. But they didn’t come.
Eventually she reached a heavy door, fortified with bars and locks. All empty now. “This was it,” she whispered. “Where I grew up.”
She pushed the door open.
A pony sat on one of the comfortable armchairs just inside, sipping at a lemonade and smiling at us as we entered.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Princess Twilight Sparkle said.