Expedition Log: Cycle 365
Well, this is it. Even though I know I got off the 24-hour day cycle during that long time where I had no way to tell time, I’m declaring today my one-year anniversary of my journey through the portal. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened, and looking back there were a lot of things I could have done better, but at the end of the day, I’m still alive and I’ve made a new friend. Sure, it’s not the “go to another world, explore it, become an alicorn” that I was planning back then, but if I’m going to be honest I probably shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up to high based on one image of myself with wings in a magic mirror [1]. Anyway, I think things went about as well as were realistically possible so far, if not better! (Seriously, I made First Contact, that’s way beyond “realistic”).
The scars on my flank are a constant reminder of just how dangerous this world is, and how unprepared for it I was, but despite the few crazy moments of danger, my time here has actually been pretty mundane. I fell into a routine, re-read the few books I brought, and wrote down meaningless stuff for the better part of 300 cycles, and it was boring as tartarus, but I survived it, and it all paid off. One day, my boring routine got torn up when an alien fell out of the sky on a flying ship and all of a sudden that routine was shattered. For more than a month, we’ve been working with each other, telling each other about our pasts and homes, and actually becoming friends! Of course, this wasn’t just minor busywork like new students at school, this was an expedition to unlock the secrets of an alien world! This is what I was missing, this is what I almost didn’t do because I was so focused on surviving until I got home.
I’m going to lay out everything in this log, and Gertrude is doing the same in hers, that way whoever gets here first, an Equestrian team through the portal or a human expedition, they’ll know what happened.
So, to start off, the thaumaturgical energy field on Mercury is a conundrum: my initial thought was that it was some leftover energy from Equestria’s portal, which made sense in my mind: 3 days of energy flow through the portal, 600 days where it dissipates through the environment, slowly dissipating until the next opening, with any surplus slowly building up. That went out the door when I did the math, based on my estimates of the size of Mercury (which Gertrude confirmed) the math just didn’t work, the amount of energy dissipation if Mercury was a truly no-magic world would wipe it out in months, and yet in the year I’ve been here it ticked down .2% from the readings at the beginning of the trip. So, what’s causing the issue?
I don’t have the heavy-duty magic theory texts I’d need to reference to make any theories on why this is happening, and if I’m being honest I had put it on my list of “research for the future” before Gertrude showed up and I got to read one very interesting thing about Mercury. You see, there’s these large giant metal obelisks humans call “The Needles” halfway between the hot side and cold side, right along the entire planet evenly spaced once every 1/42nd of its diameter… in theory. Not all of them have been found, in fact not even most of them have been, and since even with all the pictures from orbit and maps made by previous expeditions we haven’t figured out where we are…
Well, we at least know where to look, all the ones that have been found so far are along the mid line, so we just figure out where that is based on the sun and follow it north.
Now, how does this tie into the thaumaturgic energy field? Well, I don’t know. I just know that no one has been able to cut off a sample of the metal to see what it is, I know that whoever built them had to have had a reason for doing it, and I know that something is messing with the energy field, either acting as a reservoir and slowly trickling out power for the planet or something else. It’s not the strongest connection ever, but it’s something, and my alternative theory is that there is some sort of magic in the World River (the big river that literally circles the entire planet, no beginning or end) that makes it work, and I can’t research that theory without risking an encounter with one of the creatures that live in the depths, so we decided we would travel to the nearest Needle and poke around at it, see what happens.
Now for the trip itself, we will be taking Gertrude's ship, setting ourselves directly in the middle of the Twilight Zone, and sailing north. Now, finding the Needle should be simple, it's a nearly 200 feet tall metal obelisk, and we won’t be flying that high, but since we have plenty of time, we decided to make sure that we don’t miss it by taking advantage of a neat little effect they have that I think just proves they’re magic: Once every 267 minutes, for 12.5 minutes at a time, a magnetic “pulse” goes off, making every compass in 15 kilometers turn towards it (I asked why they had both kilometers and miles to measure distance, and Gertrude just shrugged). So, we’re going to take this nice and slow, which actually works out better because even after a month of off-and-on repairing the engines, we really have no idea how well those repairs will hold up since, well, neither of us have any experience with airship engines.
… You know, when I started writing this I expected it to be a bit longer. Oh well, I guess there’s really not much else to say. We’re heading out soon, if you’re reading this and I’m not around then head north until you find Gertrudes people’s base, ask if they’ve seen us.
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Gertrude Bell felt amused as she watched Sunset pace the deck. The Unicorn had been the main proponent for the “slow and steady” plan to make sure they found the Needle, but it seems she hadn’t quite grasped just how slow the 6 kilometer an hour pace they needed to ensure they didn’t miss a pulse was, as she was unfavorably comparing their speed with what she could accomplish if her leg was healed… and there were no obstacles in her path. Looking down at the swampy forests that clung to both banks, Gertrude knew that was not a realistic option for this journey. Of course, she knew Sunset knew that as well; after all, her first fit of pacing a couple hours before had ended with her laying on a couch and sulking at her leg, mumbling accusations of treason at it.
Gliding through the air, the Mercurian surface stretched out beneath them from horizon to horizon, the sun hanging on the western horizon, looking for all the world like an eternal Sunset. It is almost as if this world was made for her… Gertrude thought as she looked at the orange unicorn. She had been raised to view such coincidences as mere chance, with believing otherwise seen as superstition unbecoming a modern Englishwoman, but as she took in the symbol on Sunset’s flank, a symbol that supposedly revealed some great inner truth of her friends identity and purpose in life… she found herself doubting even more of what she had been taught.
After all, she was a Victorian Englishwoman, and Sunset had straight up told her that not only did magic exist, but so did a realm where the immortal ruler raised and lowered the sun and moon on a regular basis. Despite the demonstrated magic, it was hard for her to move past her upbringing and truly understand what she was being told, just as Sunset could hear Gertrude tell tales of an empire that stretched across four planets and had a city of millions at its heart and still could not truly comprehend the size and scale of the British Empire or the industrial powers of humanity.
However, ever since Sunset had told her the truth about Celestia and Cadence, that they were born as normal ponies and ascended to immortality and power after accomplishing great feats tied to their very identity, she had been wondering. Sunset says she came here, to a land in eternal sunset, after seeing a vision of herself ascended…
She pushed those thoughts from her mind, there was no point wondering about it now, after all, Sunset knew more about this subject than she had, and she’d laughed at how naive she was to believe she could be worthy of ascension. Gertrude had noticed pain in her eyes as she’d said it, and knew that bringing it up without a good reason would simply be rubbing salt into the open emotional wound. Fortunately, she had a good reason to take her mind off the topic: after several hours they were leaving the “shelter” of the mountains that Sunset had named the Rockhoof Range, and the clashing air currents between the frozen cold side and scorching hot side of the planet were occasionally buffeting the craft, and keeping it stable required all her concentration, even as Sunset let out an annoyed series of yells the first few times the ship shook.
Clearing the latest patch of turbulence, Gertrude looked out the window from the pilots seat, the ground below them opening up as the mountains fell behind, and struck up a pose. If only mother could see me now, an adventuress on Mercury, working with a unicorn to understand the secrets of the planet. Looking down at her dirty outfit, she imagined how her mother would react to the sight. Of course, before I could explain any of that she would begin to demand to know what I was doing wearing muddy trousers. I believe the “trousers” part of that she would object to the most. In some ways she was more hostile to my dreams than father: at least he was willing to accept that I could accompany a future husband on any adventures he had, mother would have had me remain in London the rest of my life.
Another gust of wind disrupted her musings, and as she stabilized the ship she heard Sunset call out to her in accented English, a sign that whatever she was saying wasn’t important enough to burn power on. “Gertrude! Over left, look!”
Turning to the side, Gertrude looked across the cold side of the river, her eyes searching the dimmed shadowed land for whatever Sunset had seen. Are we off the centerline? Is the Needle over there? She wondered as her eyes scanned the horizon and Sunset clambered up the ladder to sit next to her.
“Look!” She said, pointing a hoof to nearly the edge of the window, and as Gertrude followed it she saw something glistening in the distance, reflecting the suns low rays back into the sky. Turning to Sunset, she asked. “Shall we stop and investigate or continue on?”
Sunset’s face scrunched as she tried to translate the question, less than fifty days together being far from enough time for her to be fluent in English. After a moment, her horn glowed. “Can we do a fly-by? If we go a bit faster we won’t lose much time, and then we can see if it’s worth investigating in the future.”
That sounded entirely reasonable to Gertrude, who turned the ship ninety degrees to port and increased the engine speed. After only a few minutes, they had arrived at the anomaly, a large lake, literally crystal clear. Gertrude had never seen a body of water so clean, especially not a wild one: looking down from above, the two could see all the way to the bottom of the lake, where fish of all shapes and sizes darted between exotic corals and strange plants. Putting the ship in hover, Gertrude stared down at the lakebed, watching as a bioluminescent swarm darted through the crags of the reef, pursued by a large creature that, in the dim light of the cold part of the Twilight Zone, seemed to be made of shadow. [2]
The two stared down for a long moment, time passing as they watched the creatures of the shallow lake dart around in the dim light, a hypnotic display of life and beauty in the watery depths. According to the ships clock, this moment lasted only a few minutes, but Gertrude could have sworn she spent hours watching before Sunset nudged her. “How long camp?” she asked, shaking Gertrude out of the trance.
Turning back to the logbook, she compared their speed and the time they left camp and the time they made the turn. “I think… we’re about 40 miles north of the camp, and maybe a mile or so east.”
Sunset nodded, taking another glimpse down at the lake. “We returan? Return? I want investi…” Shaking her head, her horn glowed again. “We’ll come back, right? I really want to investigate this place. Plus, you know, it’s a lot nicer to look at than the area by the camp.”
Gertrude nodded. “Agreed, perhaps we will land here on the way back, in fact…” she cut herself off as Sunset staggered forward without warning, almost like something had struck her out of nowhere. “Sunset? Sunset are you well? Is it your leg, do you need to lie down-?”
“It’s close.” Sunset said, her eyes wide. “The Needle, it’s close.”
“How do you-”
“The pulse isn’t just magnetic!” She shouted, gesturing to the ships compass, which had turned nearly 60 degrees of its previous heading despite the ship remaining stationary. “It’s magical, thaumaturgical, whatever word we use that’s what it is! It’s like a wave of energy, and I can feel it!” She was nearly crying with joy, tears forming in her eyes as she pulled out her equipment. “It’s only about a fifth of the Equestrian regular background level, but it’s not stable! It’s flowing over us with peaks and troughs like waves!” She pointed at the crystalline device in her hoof, showing as the readings rose and fell with each second. “We need to get there, this could explain everything!”
Gertrude nodded, retaking the pilots station and throttling the engines, the ship speeding off to the northwest as Sunset basked in the feeling of having even a fraction of the power she had grown up with.
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David Williamson and his men were giving up hope in finding Gertrude Bell. The sheer size of Mercury and the lack of success since they had left was wearing down their morale, and the knowledge that failure meant the only money they would earn was from the supplies they sold to some prospectors up the river was not helping matter. Williamson had had to break up three fights in the last week, one of them having escalated past words to fists, and he was beginning to feel the strain. But they had to press on, even if it meant returning to England in disgrace, because at least that would mean returning to England.
Sitting in the pilot's chair, he heard the voice of Patrick O’Brian, an Irish lad barely old enough to be called a man he’d picked up a couple years back to fill a vacancy in his crew, shouting down the speaking tube from the lookout station. “Captain! Captain I see a camp!”
Patrick was his best lookout, his young eyes seeing clearer than any of the rest of the men, which is why Williamson did not ask questions like “are you sure?” when he heard the message. Instead, he only asked for a heading and distance. After turning the ship, he pulled up the speaking tube for the rest of the ship. “Alright lads, we found something! Don’t know if it’s our missing heiress, but someone’s built a camp out here, and we’re going to go say hello. Be on your best behavior, if it’s Gertrude we want her to come peacefully, and if it’s not we don’t want to piss off our hosts.”
Half an hour later, after their hails were unanswered and they had to land the ship without help from the ground, Williamson and his men approached the small round camp, nestled between two hills. Walking in, he noticed that the camp seemed disorganized, with a cabin, kiln, and several storage tents strewn about wherever there was room, with the cabin itself unfinished, one wall covered by a thick tarp. Bee-lining for the cabin, he pushed aside the tarp over the doorway and held up a lamp, crouching over to avoid hitting his head on the insanely low roofs. Inside was a dirt floor, an improvised bed, and several bookshelves made from Mercurian wood, and on those bookshelves was a strange mix of books, most being in English, books on survival and ether flier maintenance, but a few were written in a strange language, one that seemed like nothing Williamson had seen before.
He was investigating one of the books when Patrick spoke up. “Excuse me sah, but I found somethin’ you’ll want to see.” He said, holding up an open book which had This Journal is the property of Gertrude Bell written on the cover.
Taking the book, Williamson flipped through it, skimming as he went. At first it was merely a tale of her flight to Mercury, boring monotony in the depths of space that all who had flown the ether knew far to well. However, her first few entries after landfall were far more interesting, particularly her description of the creature that had met her.
Her form is similar to the Unicorns of legend, although she claims no knowledge of any myths pertaining to unicorns that I presented to her. Her coat is a light orange, bordering on yellow, and her mane consists of hairs the same color as well as a darker, near red shade. Her native tongue flows like the melody of a songbird, and her eyes are a brilliant turquoise. Were it not for her behavior, I would say she is a Fae of myth, mystically beautiful with powers beyond any that a human can wield, yet she displays no sign of the trickery and deceit the legends of such creatures tend to speak of.
However, she does display powers that seem as if magic. When I made her acquaintance, she transported us across a river that was impeding our progress with a flash of light, moving us to the opposite shore without an issue, and then after consulting one of her books she was able to use another ability to speak to me, asking my name and introducing herself as Sunset Shimmer. After a brief conversation, we shared a meal at her encampment, and even after she was too exhausted to maintain the ability that let us speak, she allowed me to remain in her encampment, sitting silently and writing in a journal similar to mine as the cool twilight air washes over us and the fire burns low.
Below the entry was a drawing, showing the unicorn lying down, a quill pen engulfed in a beam of light emitting from its horn as it scribbled in a journal. By the time he had finished reading the entry, David Williamson felt like a new man. Gone was the exhaustion of nearly two months of fruitless searches, now he not only a lead to his original payday, but an even greater opportunity: to be the man to bring a Unicorn from Mercury to London. [3]
Looking at his men, he showed them the journal, and as they read, they came to the same conclusion. Patrick and a couple other men seemed uncomfortable about the idea of capturing a unicorn, but in the end they fell in line, their superstitions crushed by the image of the money and fame they would receive upon their return to London. Gathering Gertrude’s journals, Williamson began reading, hoping for a clue on where she went. Fortunately for him, Miss Bell was kind enough to dedicate the last entry entirely to explaining where she was going and how she was going there.
Within fifteen minutes of that discovery, the Good Fortune was airborne once again, and the hunt was on.