“Fire hasn’t spoken for a week. I could say that I’m worried, but it’s worse than that.
With Murmanesk’s events, I fear something has been broken inside. He doesn’t talk, he doesn’t look at me, and he just sit there, silent. He always shies away from everything, even himself. Damn, he didn’t even react when the two pegasi took the sword and threw it away. It was our lever. I still wonder why they haven’t kicked us over the edge of the cart, like that scimitar. I guess we are pitiful and harmless. That’s all you can think of two colts, dirty and stinky in the back of a cart. This truth hurts so much, knowing my life is in the hooves of two pegasi that despise us openly. It’s difficult to sleep peacefully with that in mind.
Fire’s friend, Candelabra, is gone with one of the three barges, and if I want to kick some life up in Fire’s arse, I need to find evidence of her passage, a glimpse of something. Even a hair. But where shall I start? Where shall we start?
Murmanesk was and still is a hellhole. Argen had always taken me with him during his work, but I’m young and the Federation is immensely big. And with the war with the Republic and the Renegades, I wasn’t given to see much of the world. And the most obscure places of the Federation, where common law and logic do not apply, were still unknown for me. Of course, I wasn’t naïve enough to think the world was made of rainbows and sunshine but still... Now, I can say that I know things are fucked up.
For the moment, Fire and I are heading toward the centre of the Federation, the capital. I fear what I can find. Argen had often gone there but he had never brought me with him. I remember his description of the place: ‘a piece of misery wrapped in a silk of wealth’. I’m afraid. He told me it was a cut-throat area if you didn’t know where to go, from where to start. It was a Court of Miracles.
I’m stupid and I hate not knowing. And this diary. It’s so freaky. As far as I’ve read, it was Candelabra’s. Who was she really? She writes so well for a colliers’ daughter. And she is a PEGASUS. Why does she have magic, and I don’t? I’m the unicorn… she is the pegasus.
Why did I have my horn cut off? Argen told me I would be killed if it was revealed to the “pure ones”, those damn “pure-blood” pegasi. The common folk wouldn’t understand what I am. There is something kept secret about my people. And I don’t know what… But Murmanesk gave me an outlook of what is awaiting me beyond the threshold, hatred from the flying ponies, fear and lack of understanding from the earthbounds. Sometimes I really wonder what part of the past has been hidden. Like many, I wasn’t given to go to school. I’m an autodidact. Being a pariah is a difficult life.
Well, I should stop reading Candelabra’s words. Her spelling is influencing me. She writes so damn well.
Little One
PS: Maybe I should tell Fire my name, my real name… Why Argen had to come up with a fake one.
No, he would laugh his ass off.”
The emptiness stretched to eternity around the cart. There was neither up nor down. Only thick and intertwined clouds stood above and under the vehicle until they merged in the horizon, thousands of kilometres away, blurred with the distance. As usual, the sun hovered in the west, unmovable like a mighty landmark of bleak yellow. The vision was nauseous, sending chills down Little One’s spine as he stared blankly at the frightening sight with widened eyes. Standing on the edge of the flying cart, still pulled by two panting and fatigued pegasi, the young colt wanted more than to throw up. And somehow as he leaned over the edge, he wondered what would happen if he stepped forward. Would he fall? He had flown many times with his master Argen before. Yet, he never got rid of his fear of heights.
Little One shut out his eyes to a knife blade’s width, trying to outline any shapes appearing on the dull painting the clouds seemed to be. Bleak, beige and dark shades were everywhere.
“Are we there yet?” Little One asked with a lump in his throat as his legs trembled from the airsickness.
“Soon,” one of the tired pegasi spat, their wings flapping madly in the air, throwing gust of winds at Little One’s face.
The colt humidified his crackled lips and repositioned his messy and nasty scarf around his head. He had not drank for two days and with the constant wind he could nearly feel his orange skin wrinkle. He shuddered when thinking about the two flyers; they should be on the brink of death from flying madly like that. Little One took a deep, long breath and seeking a sign of hope in the horizon he brought forth hurting words.
“You can tell us if you’re lost.”
The stare he got back from the two pegasi highlighted how much they had been pained by the statement. One growled, still biting on the rope tying him to the cart. The other slowed down its pace and gave the earthbound’s pony a stern look.
“We know where we’re going! We would not be transporters otherwise. We’re hurrying ‘cause we might miss the window. You should care about your friend instead of asking stupid questions.”
Taken aback, Little One sat down next to Fire’s unanimated body; he was awake. Yet, he had stayed immobile for the whole week, only creeping at night when he thought everypony was sleeping deeply, to eat out some rations and drink water when these commodities were available. He was still in shock and even a herd of Pegasus soldiers storming on his back would not be enough to get him out of his stupor. Fire had taken the traits of a ragdoll, not answering any call, ears slammed shut and his voice dead by the gag crystallizing his throat.
“Fire, wanna talk?”
Little One received a grunt for sole answer and Fire rolled over his side, showing his back and rear to his friend. Little One huffed.
“Fine, you dumbass,” he berated with a dark scowl.
Raising up his head once again, Little One shot a perplexed look at the east. As usual, the black hurricanes were there, waiting like they were frozen solid with angry bolts of lightning slashing through their surface again and again. Sometimes a flash burst out larger than the others and even with the distance, Little One swore he could see shockwaves running on the dark storm behind.
Drifting away his eyes, Little One looked straight at the front of the cart, far away from his location started shaping a cream-coloured cloudy mass. It was remote, but in a land of nothingness a tiny stain was similar to a griffon in a closet, impossible to miss. A sigh of relief from the two pegasi alerted they had finally found their objective.
Little One cracked his muscles as he stretched on the wooden board of the cart, forcing his hooves on it. Two days he had been standing idly on that piece of flying wood and metal since they had left the last shard. He was still surprised they had not called the guard during their halt there, a small harbour used as a relay for the transporters and barges that passed by on a daily basis, forming the synapses of many trading routes inside the Federation, an archipelago made of many shards of many sizes.
“We’ve already told you, the guard would have arrested us as well for ‘accepting’ helping you. And paperwork and a rope around the neck are bad for commerce.”
Little One looked at the cart, empty of any goods except Fire and him. Traders? Meh, pass. However, Little One told nothing about his doubts, he knew that once they would arrive to the Capital they would abandon him as quickly as possible. Fire and he were burdens, but threats, they weren’t anymore. The fact that the two pegasi had managed to throw the sword away in the great emptiness of space was the proof.
Little One shook his head and focused on the strange cloud shape in the distance. It was gaining momentum at an extremely slow pace making Little One wonder how far they really were from it. But while Fire was still in a despondent and bleak demeanour, Little One watched a sip of dust flying away from the bottom of the cart. A sudden question came into his mind.
“Just sayin’,” he brought forth to the two pegasi, “what happens if I jump off the cart? Would I fall? In which direction?”
The two pegasi gave a questioning glare at the young colt, then grinned at each other. It was some creepy yet amused smiles.
In the two stallion’s tow the cart swerved on and off, making Little One scream like a madmare. The cart went up and down and tail-spun fiercely, Little One cramped himself to the cart, only to see he was still stuck on its surface in spite of a complete looping that would have thrown overboard even the bulkier of the ponies. Shaking, Little One blabbered.
“What did you do to this?” Little One eructed through quick and raspy breaths. Then his eyes widened, understanding what had happened. “How is that possible?”
The two pegasi laughed raucously at the small colt, who blushed in return and sought for a hideout behind his hooves.
“Sincerely,” the initiator of the unexpected manoeuvre began, “I don’t really know. All this stuff has always been working strange. Step out of the cart and I won’t guarantee what will happen of you. A shard can roll over without the ponies settled on it to bat a brow but step off its cliff and…”
He mimicked a flying shape with his hooves with a whizzing whistle.
“I never saw a pony stepping off. But we call them the ‘off-the-cliffs’. Ponies said that they fell somewhere and die of exhaustion, thirst and hunger before they reach the ground.” He paused and snickered. “If there is any.”
“Nah, you’re saying shit!” His stooge replied with a teasing voice. “When you do the leap of faith you go straight to the hurricanes. There, the wind will tear you apart. Or some says dragon ghosts will eat you if you go down too much.”
Little One failed to repress a smile on his lips. The last assumption seemed particularly stupid, yet amusing. How could a pony define ‘too low’ in a world where there was no ceiling nor floor and where the only landmark were a sun and a bunch of sombre storm clouds in a forsaken place nopony would never wander about.
The mass of clouds grew and grew over the hours until it filled one third of the space around the cart. Gigantic, Little One could not estimate its heights, and its dark shadow cast upon the pony quartet foreshadowed nothing good. The darkening shape was like a maw, which smoky teeth were going to close on the group. Muffled, a rumbling hum pierced through the fog, coming from afar.
“Are you ready?” one of the driver alerted. “It might shake a bit but it’s the last step before the trip’s end.”
He laughed cynically.
“Of course, you can just sit there and do nothing. Just watch. I won’t ask you to flap your hooves.”
The two pegasi snickered and, gathering together the little strength they had left, they leaped into the cloud with a roar. The ascension began.
The cart trembled and even Fire sought for reassurance in one of its corner. The smooth quivers intensified into violent shakes as they went deeper and deeper into the cloud. The darkness gained in momentum and blasted away the tame sunbeams that had warmed the two colts. An impression of a night clenched Little One’s soul as he stared around, seeing nothing but the sparks running through the sweat drop dripping on the pegasi’s faces, grunting and spitting they kept their pace.
With everything shutting out the sight, the growing in strength wind punched on the cart, making the nails and screws crack in the joints. Grunts changed into panting and one of the pegasi gave out a badly held shout. Up, always going up. The journey had no end and the rumble beyond the unfathomable fog rammed like thunder in the air.
Then a faint light seemed to birth beyond the veil of grey, brown and black. The gleam was weak and shadowed, but it made everypony think about a trail’s end, after clambering a steep and harsh mountain.
“We’re closing in!” a voice spat, coughing.
The thick and dusty cloud ended abruptly and the cart threw itself over a bottomless void. Little One would have shrieked about the terrifying view if his attention had not been focused on something that even kicked Fire out of his prostrated state.
A shard…
Not a simple, big shard like Murmanesk’s was. No, it was much more than that. It was The Shard! The almighty, monstrous, gigantic and intimidating floating mountain that seemed to tickle both the upper and the lower horizons of the world, or what remained of them. Gargantuan was not even enough to describe the monster that hovered ‘next’ to Little One, Fire and the two merchants.
The landmark was at least fifty kilometres high for two to three hundred kilometres wide. Looking exactly like a mountain a godly lumberjack would have sawed off, the monolith of rock was rolling slowly over itself. The two pegasi kept the cart away from the shard. And even if still a couple of kilometres had to be crossed, the shard was already the scariest and overwhelming spectacle they had been given to see. Its cracked and scattering sides were made of sharp and bulky obsidian reflecting the light of the sun hidden behind the clouds. However, what took aback the two colts wasn’t the size of the rock monster. It was the city built on its flat side where the metaphoric lumberjack’s saw had passed, cleaning a large and flat area that could nurture life.
A majestic spire of nacre buildings glittered with the slivers piercing the clouds, showering scarcely the city, a coiling of houses, castles, factories and routes. Built like a snail’s shell, nearly helical, the city was nothing but a pantheon of architectural prowess. Fire’s jaw dropped slightly and so did Little One’s. Bells, golden frescos and chiselled silver decorations beamed dully under the cloudy sky.
As both pegasi pulled the cart further up, Little One got a better view on the vast urban area sprawling on the surface of the shard. Circled by high wall of white bricks, the large spire watched over a flat land of insanely close cottages in bad shape, covered by the spire’s shadow. The whole outskirts reeked poverty and insalubrity. And dark smokes rose over the roofs.
The city’s size itself was hair-rising; larger than Murmanesk’s shard itself. Yet, it occupied less than a quarter of the shard’s surface. The three quarters left were reserved to many activities such as agriculture. Little One leaned over the cart’s edge and screwed his eyes to pinprick, curiosity kicking in. Over the meadows and wheat fields far beyond the city floated smaller shards. Anchored to the ground by heavy chains, they were spilling out an endless stream of water into artificial pool. Little One first pinched his cheek, and even gave himself a punch to his face. The watering shards were far too small to contain such volume of water. Nonetheless, it continued flowing out, slowly though, never stopping. Shaking his head, Little One tried to get rid of this physic-defying question.
“Better not think about it,” he laughed.
Little One coughed and looked at the air around the spire. Many shadows flew pass it in a round dance of carts, flying pegasi and monstrous vehicles he had never seen. The air vibrated with the agitation, and coming from the ground, heat haze washed over the walls of the city. From the top of the spire rang the mighty toll of a golden bell, fixed in the highest tower of the awe striking castle a pony could only hope to see once in his life. Panting, one of the pulling pegasi announced with a rather pleased voice.
“Welcome to Capital, pearl of the Federation.”
Fire and Little One let out a ‘wow’ of admiration and lost themselves into the contemplation of the city. An opening broke through the cylinder of clouds encasing Capital, and a large shaft of light poured over the city like a golden shower. Magnified, Capital gave reflects of rainbow that Fire and Little One had never seen, making their mouth drop even more. Little One was preoccupied with the thousands of ponies moving like a mass of ants beneath. Unfortunately, they were too small to catch who was who.
Little One took a deep breath, willing to smell the odour of such a magnificent city. He frowned. The air was raspy and induced a few coughs in his throat. While the cart lowered toward an area adjoining Capital’s white rampart, a poignant aching plagued his eyes and the air suddenly darkened. Little One blinked, desperate to wash away this uncomfortable feeling of having his eyes burnt with acid, his lungs drown in sludge.
A hiss settled in his throat and as the cart was a few meters away from landing, Little One gave a look at the sky, in the direction of Capital’s spire. The harbour was built on the eastern side of the helicoidally built monolith and the shadow of the Spire was cast upon the runaway, the near buildings, and garrisons. Little One gave a sheepish glance at the pilling up of houses, castles and towers. The low sun was hidden by the highest building, the thin and insanely high tower bearing the bell that had rung earlier. It was watching down at the ground like a teasing promontory everypony knew would remain inaccessible for the common folks. It was so high and distant it seemed eerily curved. And as the sun was stuck behind it at the moment, the shafts of light peered at the runaway through a thick and polluted air like the hooves of an angel that couldn’t reach ponies needing help. A strange night was cast upon the soil of Capital, and around the cart, the autochthones were ghoulish.
The ponies around the harbour, were they earth ponies or pegasi did not matter, had horrendous features. Their cheeks sunk inside their mouths with deflated skin like sponges under a radiant sun. Starvation, privation and despair built inside everypony.
In a loud thump followed by a short screech, the cart landed. The two pegasis shuddered at their painful wings as they folded on their numbed sides. They held each other with a hoof in a friendly embrace. They had done something extremely exhausting and praiseworthy. A yelp echoed in their back. Swivelling, they saw Little One had jumped on the ground, nearly kissing it. On his own, Fire crawled out of the cart with tired and depressed features. Giving a look around, his eyes blinked, trying to fight back the rising tears. He had swapped a world of demise for another one, and he had broken and lost the only bonds he had in the process, his family.
The two pegasi’s cheering went short live as a group of soldiers loomed at the end of the runaway, coming for them. Both looked swiftly at Little One. Sweat induced by a growing fear dripped on his neck. Grabbing Fire by the rump, he dragged him behind an empty cask, finding a hideout in its sombre shadow.
Little One gasped at the sight of the two pegasus soldiers. Massive and bulky, the two dark-coated stallions had copper-coloured armour that covered them entirely, their joints protected by a savant patchwork of chainmail and leather. Their eyes, questioning and haughty, scanned the two transporters. Nearing, Little One peered at them and heard a redundant click, the grating of heavy metallic tools on a few gravels, repeated again and again as the two soldiers trotted forward like the horseshoes of a long gone profession, cowcolt. The military duo was impressively scary, sending chills down the spine of the neighbouring ponies, looking at the wild interrogatory with interested eyes. Little One spotted the source of the noise; the two stallions had impressive weapons hung at their rump, two shiny claymores slid inside their sheaths. Again, the colt gulped, cringing on his hooves, trying to be the littlest possible.
“State your names, origins, point A and point B, your business in the Capital, and your pass,” the first of the two soldiers berated.
The two stallions backed to their empty cart, and Little One heard a click. The two transporters had hidden a compartment in one of the cart’s side. This revelation shocked the young pony, and a frowned pout slowly shaped on his lips. One week waiting idly inside that vehicle and his boredom had not been sufficient to unveil the trick. The soldiers inspected the two transporters’ identity, looking to and fro between their sweaty faces and the empty carts.
“You made the trip to Capital with nothing to sell?” One of the militaries asked, questioning.
Still panting, the two pegasi looked at each other. One nodded to the other with a tired look. He showed off a scroll of paper closed with a read, crackled seal.
“We’re just transporters, we take contracts. We are not merchants. And, to be swift, Murmanesk wasn’t going well when we departed.”
The soldiers swept their hooves before the two pegasi, willing to cut off the conversation.
“We already know, one of the three barges landed here two days ago.”
Little One heard Fire’s ears twitched and the colt, finally back from his blank state, shot a look at the two plated ponies, ready to catch any of their words in spite of the ambient hum.
“Where are the other two?” one of the two transporters asked shyly.
Fire was ready to jump right out of his hideout but Little One shovelled his hoof in his mouth, a drop of sweat running across his face. Something seemed wrong in his eyes and ears. This metallic shriek of an eerie creature comforted his suspicions. Similar to Murmanesk soldiers’ pets, a small bird made of scrap metal landed on the side of the cart, eyeing the two pegasi with bulged and red glowing eyes. It cackled with a mechanic cough and clattered its sharp claws onto the wood. The two soldiers smirked at the creature, a long-lasting partner. As everypony had focused on the automaton, one of the military ponies snapped the building silence which a clack of his hooves.
“We don’t know, we’re not from the Cartographers’ guild.”
Ending straight the discussion, the soldiers fall back in another street, next to the runaway. In their wake shrieked the mechanical bird, which flew over the cottages, scanning from above the dull faces populating the overcrowded city.
On their own, the two transporters passed the barrel which shadows had hidden Little One and Fire from any sight. And it worked particularly well; no pony had spotted the two young shapes eyeing the common folks trotting by. Silent, they waited for the two stallions turned into a small byway. Yet, the two pegasi stooped and looked around, seeking for a threat. Assured that nopony would disturb them, they both pushed a hidden button of the side of their cart. A pop clacked in the air and a secret compartment slid open where Little One had stood during a whole week. The young colt facehoofed, Argen would be ashamed of him.
But something else caught his immediate attention. Inside the hidden box dwelled a series of arcs, glowing dully. It was nothing but explosives, exactly the same as the one he had seen in Murmanesk.
“Hide this, I don’t want somepony to spy on us,” the first pegasi berated.
“The Capitol’s branch needs them. Murmanesk’s has been wiped out. Now, we must focus on the castle,” the second whispered with angst.
They hid back the compartment, pushing it back into its former position. Then, slowly and ready to face any threat, they disappeared further into the narrow street.
Together, Little One and Fire waited a few minutes, inspecting the surrounding runaway and the houses bordering it. The massive shadows of the far away spire were of the utmost unsettling impression, spreading chill down their spines.
“We have to move,” Little One brought forth.
Fire’s hooves shook swiftly. The air was chill and raspy and the shadow cast on the two colts intensified the coldness. Fire snickered, breaking the long silence he had kept for a week.
“Do we even have a starting point?”
Little One raised his eyes to the cloudy sky, and brought his hoof to his face, knocking it hard enough to make him wince. Fire wasn’t easy, but right now, he was nothing but obnoxious.
“You heard the soldiers; we have to find something called the Cartographers’ guild. They must know where your friend is.”
“For what purpose, now?” Fire sighed, sliding his back on the barrel until his rump hit the dirt, silent. “Look at us.”
Little One complied and sat next to Fire. Slightly defeated, he looked at himself, an orange unicorn hiding his frontal scar and thus his true nature for a reason he had never been told. With clumsy hooves Little One tightened the scraps of fabric over his head, leaving nothing but clumps of blue and dusty mane falling over his eyes. Little One felt miserable. He had truly nothing left, the saddlebag he had, a gift from Argen, had been lost in Murmanesk.
Little One’s eyes drifted toward Fire, he had no barding or piece of equipment but a pair of cracked goggles. And they knew that with no items to trade, no money and a craving thirst and hunger, they weren’t given much chance in Capital. The sudden and heavy weight of despair swamped their mind and a long-lasting pain plagued their limbs. Little One shut his eyes and rubbed his achy forehead.
The sound of torn leather erupted next to him. Opening his eyes out of fear, Little One saw Fire’s goggles were gone. Seeing the wondering stare of his young friend, Fire palpated his neck and chest where the pair of thick glasses had hung until now. It was truly gone.
Followed by a loud whistle, a snicker echoed behind them. Jumping on their hooves, Fire and Little One looked up. A filly, roughly their age, stood on the top of the barrel, playing forcefully with the leather strap of the goggles, making it turn around her left hoof. In the shadow of the castle, her features appeared darker, her light pink fur was streaked with orchid purple reflects and her bright blue mane shone with the spark of purple in her eyes. Around her neck shone the glitter of a golden necklace. She loathed at the two colts.
“Look what we’ve got here,” she laughed. “Two nestlings fallen from the nest.”
“Give it back to me,” Fire spat at her, and jumped trying to catch his goggles, out of reach.
The filly grinned and mimicked a sad face.
“Oh, the bad girl stole ma glasses, I’ll call my mother and she will kick her ass!”
She gave a couple of snorts, sweeping inexistent tears off her cheeks and burst into raucous laughs at Fire, awe-stricken. The colt trembled, and filled with anger, he bucked the barrel away pushing the filly off her balance. Agile, the mare jumped and landed on Little’s head, crushing him under her weight and burying his face in the mud of the road.
“Oupsy,” she apologised, blinking her eyebrows in Fire’s direction, showing off a pouty face with puppy’s eyes. “Hope you won’t be too bad with me, daddy!”
Again, she laughed with a crystalline voice. Looking at the two colts, she stuck out her tongue and darted in the nearest street. Shaking his head to gather his spirit together, Fire leaped in her tow, and Little One, wrestling his face out of the dirt, loped behind with difficulty.
Sweat ran across Fire’s face as he leaped, leaned, slid and jumped between moving carts, hurried and shouting ponies and narrow and rusted stales. He passed by two soldiers and drifted under them. A question hit Fire hard. Since when were earth ponies soldiers? Fire had stopped and looked behind at the two armoured ponies, struggling to dig away in the crowd. They struggled a long time to reach the running colt, but quickly abandoned as the crowd and barding dampened their movement. A few meters afar from the soldiers, Little One appeared between two massive stallions, each pulling a cart filled with scraps and scavenged materials. Fire smiled; at least the young colt was not lost.
A wild pain burst in the back of Fire’s neck. Yapping, he turned back and saw a young mare standing atop of a pile of crates, his goggles on her eyes, juggling with a pebble in her hoof. She shot at him and hit his leg, wrestling another cry of pain out of him.
“Catch me!” she taunted. “If you stop whining, of course.”
What Little One had feared came true, all the anger Fire had kept hidden and unspoken flowed out in an enraged shout. Some witnesses took a hoofstep back. Many ponies stopped their goings-on and stared at two young ponies chasing each other.
“Come here, you thief!” Fire ordered without any success.
“Ee… nope!” the mischievous filly countered before jumping on another crate, showing off her agility.
In a long and powerful leap, she reached the balcony of a ruined and stinky cottage, bit into the ivy crawling on its crackled brick wall and hoof by hoof she hurled herself onto the top of the roof. She made a small dance of victory, blasting dust at Fire’s face below, struggling to follow her path and pace. Little One on his own was too small and weak to follow up. to keep track of Fire, he could only trust his ears, following the torrents of swears coming out of his friend’s mouth, and sightseeing his shadows each time the filly and he jumped between two close cottages.
The mare left impressed faces in her stead, twisting and turning over, making Fire madder at each of his failed attempt to catch her. Both were covered with the dust and junk left onto the top of the roofs as nopony could afford any cleaning in the Lower City of the Capital. The filly was a dark angel soaring in the sky, over the muddy and overcrowded streets of the heart of the Federation, making of the buildings the diving boards for her flightless and frail body. It was magic and sad at the same time.
Little One weaved between the legs of many anonymous ponies, crossing an open market where dealers and vendors rubbed their shoulders with smugglers, cut-throat ponies, beggars and thieves. Prostitution, despair, misery and poverty reeked from these ponies, were they earth ponies or pegasi. The latter had wing-cuffs. All of them. Seeing these tools, biting the flesh of so many ponies was a cold talon tightening on Little One’s heart, the image of Candel sparked in his mind. He remembered also seeing her wing-cuffs, left alone on the runaway of Murmanesk. She had freed herself, somehow, among the hundreds corpses of her magic.
Little One shook his head, chasing away those unhealthy thoughts. He had to focus on his chase, keeping track of Fire and the thief. He smiled, faces were ghoulish, watery, eaten away by sickness, malnourishment and endless suffering their daily lives had inflicted to their flesh, spirit and relatives.
Getting rid of the sensation of fear building up in his mind, Little One continued the chase from below, running with sweat as the heat from the over-closeness drove him mad. Bumping into a cart of cabbages, the colt dodged the long baton of the merchant, a moustached stallion showing a row of ragged and blackened teeth.
A crack hummed the air and the rumble of broken wood and bricks rammed inside a near cottage. Screams and shouts made the dirty windows of the cottage vibrated as the sound of two heavy falling shapes echoed inside. Little One burst through the entry door and find his way inside a tavern. Many ponies drank their blurry and muddy alcohol in old and crackled pints, loathing and teasing with many words the two young lads that had crashed into the middle of the place. Fire coughed a mist of dust, sprawl on the ground like a new born foal while the filly he had chased was already up, shaking her limbs, splattering her surroundings with dirt. She looked around, seeking for an exit; Little One was blocking the entrance and the windows would not move. She looked up with amused eyes, smirking at Fire lying at her hooves, knocked out. A rope stretched out through the ceiling. Little One followed up its way up in the hole with wondering eyes.
Going through the roof, the rope passed through a pulley and tied on the central pillar of the tavern, it held high a candelabra made of wood. A series of candles stood on its armature, their flames flickering weakly. The filly grunted. Like a whirlwind, she kicked in the air a knife that had been thrust off a table during the mess her journey through the ceiling had created. With a violent sidekick she flung the knife at the knot. The rope snapped and the candelabra began its fall. She bit the loose rope and rose in the air as the massive chunk of wood went down. It banged on the ground and rolled over, continuing its mad race on the ground floor of the tavern. Many customers cried out and jumped aside of the rolling furniture. A whipping sound rammed the air, Fire shouted, feeling his left hind leg being pulled over, the rope tangled around his limb. As the mare did, he passed through the ceiling, from where he had come. Still hesitating, Little One bit the cord and followed the track. One of his teeth cracked under the pressure.
The rope clacked through the pulley and fell through the hole opened in the thatch roof. Little One nearly hurtled down its edge, yet his hooves steadied themselves. Slightly shaken, he glared around, seeking for a landmark. His eyes settled upon Fire. Stopping was out of question for him, amplifying the fun he procured to the filly. She gained momentum and jumped over the street below, landing on a far cottage after a monumental and awe-striking move. She turned over and looked at Fire with pleading eyes, making Fire grunt. For him, it was nothing but feigned.
“Don’t follow me, you ain’t strong enough,” she warned, playing with the goggles in her hoof.
“Mind if I try?” Fire tried, his eyes bloodshot, panting, and spitting the phlegm he couldn’t swallow.
Fire ran across the roof, brought his hooves to the edge of the cottage and stretched all of his muscles jumped with a screeching roar. Little One shot open his eyes, looking at Fire’s silhouette flying over the street two stories below. He could see the tension in his back legs, the sweat running across his face, the stress scarring his features and the pain creasing his heart. Now and there, Little One knew his friend was bound to fail. When there is too much to hoofle, a pony always fail somewhere. For Fire, it had to be at this moment.
Fire saw the edge of the next cottage nearing. Yet, the smile had left the filly’s face, replaced with a negative shake, sorrowful. She bit her lower lip as Fire slowly began his descent to the dirt below. The air whizzed in Fire’s ears. The passers-by saw his nearing shadow and stepped away on time. In a loud thump raising puffs of dust, Fire hit the ground hard, knocking the air out of his lungs. One of his ribs cracked, as did one of his legs. And for him, everything went black.
Standing on the edge of the roof, Little One looked down at his blacked-out friend. Many ponies had gone closer. Some poked him, checking if he was still alive.
“I’m sorry,” the filly shouted back at him from the other construction. She shrugged at Little as he glared daggers at her. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m not the one who jumped!”
“Oh, shut up you thief!” Little One croaked before drifting his attention back at Fire.
“Can’t you stop a second,” she countered with a pout that creased the dust on her face. “Look, your friend’s alright!”
Indeed, Fire was getting up despite the horrible shivers running across his legs. Shaken, his vision blurred, he stared at anonymous faces looking down at him with not-so-worried eyes. Grumbling, seeking for balance while his ribcage spiked burst of pain through his bones, Fire did not hear a loud warning that forced everypony but him to jump aside of the road.
Fire blinked, and screamed. Two heavy armoured ponies crashed into him as they could not stop their charge on time. Flung away, Fire hit the ground a second time and rolled over, a brick wall stopping his mad race nearly instantly. The pulling ponies neighed heavily and braking on their hooves stopped the heavy carriage they were pulling, a magnificent coach, glittering with gold and silver. Gasps and clatters of horseshoes later, many witnesses had fled from the scene. A few onlookers remained, and two pegasi flew up to the carriage position, landing next to the two soldiers.
“Why have you stopped?” one of the pegasi asked with a dire tone.
“We hit something,” the coach driver spat.
A glance over his shoulder, the pegasi saw Fire, lying on the ground. Shaken, his eyes blurred with dust, blood and fear, Fire blinked, trying to focus on his surrounding, to no avail. A heavy and reeking puff of steam blasted onto his face, waking Fire up in a violent jerk. Pain ran beneath his veins and his eyes wide open peered in two pairs of reddish, glowing and burning eyes. Four dots of fire screwed in metallic pony-shape faces were dunk in bulky corpses made of metal, pistons, springs and glowing blue arcs, sparking electricity of their surface. Fire screamed. These were not the metallic bird that had scarred his face a week ago in Murmanesk. These were two replicas of earth ponies, pulling a coach and breathing steam. Machines, two machines of doom. And next to them, a pegasus neared.
“Just a piece of…” the soldier blurted out with a smirk of annoyance before being cut off. Fire was just a waste of time for him.
“Father, are we there yet?” a young feminine voice slithered out of the coach.
“We hit something, honey. Please don’t make any scramble,” a deeper voice answered, muffled to a whisper by the thickness of the frame of the cart.
The coach door slid open and the voice that had echoed inside the vehicle became clearer.
“Come back inside, Daisy!” the fatherly voice advised with a pleading tone. “This part of the city isn’t safe!”
“See if I care, the vulgar ponies wouldn’t dare touch me. As much as you fear my father.”
“Please, Daisy.”
“And it will be Lady for you!”
Fire rolled over his flanks, trying to wrestle himself from under the two mechanical horses facing him. Stings of pain rammed his flesh and forced a shriek out of his lungs. Blinking, his stare drifted upon a small silhouette moving in his direction. Even the soldier stepped aside with a stoic face betraying a sudden craving to shovel down any misbehaviour.
“Oh, the poor little boy.”
Fire coughed, splattering the shiny dress of the mare standing in front of him. She repressed a yip as the red stains broke the whiteness of her robe, sewed with gold and set with rubies. Fire’s eyes focused and he finally saw the features of the noble pegasus, staring down at him as he was lying down the dirt. Her fur was as white as the snow and her mane was burgundy-coloured. Her beautiful traits was contrasting with the dull surroundings, putting everypony to shame as they could not stand such beauty. Her eyelashes flapped when she lowered her head, bringing her nose a few centimetres afar from Fire’s eyes.
“Candel?” Fire whispered, a drop of blood slithering between his ragged teeth.
His voice had been so low only her ears could have heard. The young mare who had not reached her twenties stepped back in surprise.
“No, I’m…” She stopped, a smile clearing her face.
“Tutor, bring this child in. It seems that your driver’s careless drive nearly killed something.”
A visage dashed out of the coach, a greyish eyebrow raised.
“You can’t be serious, since when a member of the royal family must care about…” Chewing on his words, the old buck glared daggers at Fire. “Such things as an earthbound? Daisy…”
Many witnesses had heard the word ‘royal’ and peeps at the mare, the coach, the tutor and the nearing soldiers built up tension as seconds passed by. Whispers crawled in the air and ponies, attracted by the eerie scene began rambling on forbidden ideas. One soldiers pulled out his spear, sparkling with blue electricity, making the stress reach a new height as afraid or murderous stares were shot at him. The lady mare stomped the ground with his hoof, making her tutor’s head dunk in his shoulder and a short silence return.
“I care about my pets,” she stated with the accent of a spoiled child. “And I could tell father you refused something to me. You know how annoying I can be.”
Mimicking a whining filly, the tutor’s face blushed with shame, fear and exasperation.
“Alright, alright,” the tutor gave in and looking at the coach driver, started shouting orders. “Bring him in and let’s go. This part of the city is creeping me out.”
The pegasi soldier lifted Fire and moved him in the vehicle under the eyes of the regal mare. A burst of laughter broke in.
“You should see your flank. You’re so funny!”
The pegasi met the eyes of the thief two stories above, mimicking the spoiled child with a pouting face. Tension built as silence settled between them with ponies watching in utter awe, waiting for anything to happen.
“Why are you taking him!?”
Little One cringed as pairs of eyes set upon his tired face.
“Why are you kidnapping him?” he blurted out, lowering his voice until he shut up.
One of the pegasi soldier watching upon the scene scanned the filly, still making fun of the mannered mare below. His eyes screwed to pinprick as he saw the golden necklace around her neck.
“Where did you get that item, you filth?” he asked.
The filly made the necklace clatter with Fire’s goggles in her hoof.
“I… dunno…”
And she ran away.
“Catch me those two thieves!” the soldier screamed.
“Why me?” Little One whined as he fled away, a duo of soldier flying in his tow.
“Come with me,” the filly shouted from the other side of the street as she jumped from a cottage to the next.
Little One nodded and jumped aside, dodging the grasp of the soldiers. Taking advantage of a beam linking together the two side of the road, Little One crossed the channel separating her potential saviour and him. The pegasi closed in as second flowed by.
“Trust me,” the filly shouted at Little One.
“Why should I?”
“It’s me or the arcs. I can see your face. You know what it does.”
Little One swallowed his saliva and the filly grabbed his hoof and jumped. Little One eyes widened in fear. Carried away by the filly’s momentum, he followed her leap over the nothingness. There was no cottage where to land. Looking down, Little One spotted a two meters thick drainage canal ten meters below. He screamed in fear as the free-falling sensation clenched on his heart and limbs. After a second that had seemed to last forever, the filly and Little One hit the water heard and sunk into murky and stinky water.
“Breath in!” the filly cried out as they surfaced, the pegasi still behind them.
“Why?”
The sound of a cascade rumbled in Little One’s ears and looking behind him, where the greenish torrent was carrying them, he saw an opening in a brick wall. The sewers of Capital.
The fall was long and led into a pit of darkness where sounds echoed and deafened.
Have you ever believed, that luck was behind every meeting?
Can’t we sometimes trust fate to share greetings?
Neigh, we say. Fate ain’t the master of my wandering!
I’m the captain of my ship, even it means I’ll soon be dying!
Neigh, I say!
Leave me alone goddesses and fate, it’s my turn to be epoch-making!