For the first time in three whole months, I had brushed my hair.
My mane and tail actually straightened up rather nicely, I thought, though it gave a completely different feel next to my usual scruffy visage. Checking myself over in a mirror, I looked slightly shorter, moderately smarter and a whole lot more entitled. A quick trim and a few well-placed hair clips ensured I had something resembling a straight bang, completing the look. Usually, these weren't qualities I cared to cultivate, but if we had any chance whatsoever of getting a fair chat with Graygarden face to face, I needed to play his game, and that meant appearing the part, too.
I kept the coat and boots, though. Those weren't going anywhere.
Corsica led the way, flanked by myself and Ansel. I wasn't exactly sure why my brother was here, as he had nothing to do with our ether crystal research, but we had woken him up early so if he wanted to see what all the fuss was about, it was fine with me. We paced through the concrete corridors of the bunker's administrative wing, the third time I had been up here in three days... only this time, it seemed we had actually gotten somewhere.
"Permission to enter?" Corsica rapped on a door, labeled briskly as belonging to Head Scientist Graygarden.
"Enter," a well-worn voice called from within.
An orange telekinetic aura gripped the handle, opening the door for us. Graygarden's office was a lavish affair, though in a completely different fashion to the eye-searing apartment he called a home: painted with maroon, burgundy and dim gold accents, it had a barrel-vaulted ceiling and a lengthy carpet leading up to his desk. The walls held paintings of distinguished ponies and Icereach's surface, with golden support columns hidden behind potted plants that obscured light sources and helped promote a dusky atmosphere without actually making the room too dim to see in.
Graygarden himself sat behind a wide oak desk at the rear, shelves and filing cabinets arrayed behind him below a massive portrait of himself in his earlier years. Four doors flanked the room, which I assumed led to waiting areas or storage rooms yet had never been inside myself. Now that I thought about it, unless Graygarden was colorblind, maybe that was where he slept while his posh mistress was away...
All things considered, the room was significantly grander than its owner.
"About time you showed up," Graygarden sighed. "Brought your friends again, I see."
"If that is an issue, I'm sure they would be happy to wait outside," Corsica replied with a curtsy, her usually-dismissive voice much more formal in the presence of her father. "I thought it would be useful to have anyone tangentially related with my work nearby."
"That doesn't sound like a problem," a new voice said from one of the side doors, and it swung open to reveal a yellow-maned mare in a dark, plated garment I couldn't tell whether was armor or fashion. "You must be Corsica."
Corsica turned her focus to the newcomer. "I am. But I don't believe we've met?"
"Not in person. But I sure know your reputation!" The mare stepped forward, her robes shifting slightly to reveal a hint of pegasus wings, and she offered a hoof. "Leitmotif. If that's too much of a mouthful, you can call me Leif."
She had a welcoming smile, subdued enough to pass for formal yet warm enough to drive home that she was no bureaucrat. Next to Graygarden, it almost seemed to be deliberate; I could see him watching her, as though he were looking for a reason why anyone who might want to hire Corsica wasn't up to code. Yet she never even spared him a glance. Her eyes were only for my friend.
I tilted my head in thought. Friendly and earnest, yet I suspected she was as well in control of her presentation as I liked to be... Until I could get a better read on her, I would have to watch her closely as well.
Corsica was evaluating her too, taking her hoof neutrally and then shaking with a nod. "Well. Hello then, Leif."
"...Hm." Leif nodded respectfully and stepped back, as two new stallions entered through the door to flank her, both dressed like she was. I sized them up next: a thin one with the face of a scholar, but a bearing more military than academic, and one with a wide, square jaw and nice mane who clearly worked out. Square Jaw looked confident, and the beanpole looked wary, his sunken eyes flitting around and evaluating every pony in the room.
Graygarden shuffled his papers. "Let's get to the point," he sighed, setting down the papers and rising to his hooves. "Corsica. Two days ago I told you there was no money to be found in chasing the history of dusty crystals found deep beneath the earth. Icereach is about empiricism, not mystical so-and-so." He walked out from behind his desk, motioning to the trio aligned along the wall. "I also told you I'd reconsider if you could prove there was money in it. Well. It seems you work quickly."
Leif squinted at him, as if his introduction had just grossly violated a cultural taboo, but then shook her head and brushed it off. "Okay, then." She lifted a hoof, gesturing for her friends to introduce themselves.
"Vivace," the scholar said with a slight bow, his voice quiet and carrying a hint of a noble bearing that clashed with his gruff look. "A pleasure."
"And I'm Rondo!" the stallion with the wavy hair and the chiseled jaw proclaimed, pumping a hoof. "Nice to meet you! I can already tell we'll get along great."
"Sure." I nodded in return, noting idly that it wasn't just Leif: all three of them were completely ignoring Graygarden in favor of us. "I'm Halcyon, and blue mane there is Ansel. You seem alright."
"Indeed." Ansel bowed respectfully. "Might I ask to what we owe this visit?"
"A prudent question," Vivace replied, his voice softer and more disinterested than Leif's. "We've heard, lady Corsica, that you're the closest thing there is to an expert on the crystal formations that occur near ether deep underground. We've found a cave about half a day's flight by airship away, and we want you to come take a look at it to help us decide if it's worth anything."
A bag flew out from Rondo's cloak and hit the ground between us, bigger than Graygarden's head and ringing with the unmistakable jingle of coin. "Half the payment up front to sweeten the deal, and we provide the transportation! How about it? Sound fun?"
My jaw hit the floor. "How much is in there?"
Vivace opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by Graygarden, his orange telekinesis closing around the bag and lifting it toward his desk. "We accept," he announced with a nod.
Before the bag could reach him, there was a gust of wind, and Leif had disappeared.
She reappeared in a flash, flipping through the air in a show of dexterity and snatching the bag from his aura, landing on her hooves with the money slung over her shoulder. "I'm really sorry!" she nervously laughed, backing away and waving her wings apologetically with a tinge of red on her cheeks. "But this job means a lot to us, and since appraisals are subjective, we need to make sure the appraiser is as gung-ho as possible. That means it's Miss Corsica's offer to accept." She tapped the tips of her wings together, smiling awkwardly at Graygarden. "Not yours."
Corsica whistled. "I like your style."
Graygarden frowned, but said nothing.
"What do you mean to do with this cave after the appraisal?" Ansel asked, trying to move the discussion along.
"That depends on the result," Vivace replied, nodding. "We don't have a lot of use for such an area, ourselves. But from our understanding of your operations, Icereach does. So if it proves valuable, we might sell you the coordinates and more than recoup our losses for hiring you. On the other hoof, if you have no use for the cave, we'll simply leave and reveal it to no one."
Corsica's look soured. "So this money isn't really a payment. You want me to give it all back to you and more, to keep the cave if I want it."
"Oh, I don't think that will be necessary." Leif amiably shook her head. "I doubt you have the kind of money we're looking for, and this cave could benefit all of Icereach, so I think it's fair to pose the sale to the entire institute instead. You can keep your service fee either way."
Corsica brightened again. "Alright. You have yourselves a deal."
"I suppose you'll be blindfolding her, then?" Graygarden narrowed his eyes. "Seeing as otherwise, anyone could have her misrepresent the cave's value to you and then lead anyone back there on her own?"
Leif shrugged, casually tossing the money sack to Corsica. "No, it's an honor system. If you did cheat us, we would know, but does it have to come to that? Icereach is supposed to be the best and the brightest, a symbol of international unity and stuff. If we can't trust you, we've got bigger problems to deal with than getting a little ripped off. Plus, we're gambling this money either way. If she says there's no riches, it's a loss for us whether she's lying or not."
I tilted my head. She trusted Corsica like this, but didn't trust Graygarden with Corsica's money?
"Besides!" Rondo thumped his chest with a hoof. "We're new to the area and still learning who's who around here. A little goodwill from a deal gone well would be a sight for sore eyes. But if you were the kind of ponies who would cheat us out of some coin, better to learn that with a paltry sum like this!" He winked. "A little financial risk up front is a small price to pay when scouting out long-term business partners."
"It's worrying that you should even need to ask that," Vivace added. "It sends the impression that we shouldn't trust you. One could be forgiven for thinking you don't really want this deal."
Graygarden sighed and got to his hooves. "You should be aware that even this filly's most glowing recommendation may not be enough to sway the finances of Icereach into the deal you desire. Her research is new and not peer-reviewed. It takes years for these kinds of things to pan out, especially when we have more pressing priorities on our plates. This being said, I hope your find proves lucrative. Work out the details yourselves. I shall take my leave now."
Internally, I bristled. This filly? He may have disowned her as his daughter, but would it really be so much to ask for him to at least treat Corsica like an adult?
Graygarden left through a side door and closed it behind him, and the mask I had detected on Leif slipped a bit, more of the small tells I usually used to read ponies' emotions appearing on her. "Worry not," she proclaimed to Corsica, "we're used to bigwigs like that. Officially now, want the job?"
"Of course I do!" Corsica hefted the money bag, giving her a look that politely asked if she was crazy.
"An important question," Vivace interrupted to say. "These other two, Halcyon and Ansel. You said at the start they were related to your work. Are they partners of yours, who need to be present for you to do your job?"
Corsica immediately glanced at us. I gave her puppy-dog eyes. Ansel gave me a don't-you-dare glare.
"What if they were?" Corsica asked, turning back to the three visitors. "They might have some involvement."
"Hmmm..." Leif tapped her chin with a wingtip. "Well, our ship is hardly crowded, but we're not paying extra for more hooves. If you two wanted to come along... We'll need to think on it. But we weren't planning on leaving until tomorrow evening at the earliest, anyway. And Corsica is an exception, but you two do look a little young for scientists..."
"Hold on," Rondo interrupted, catching the look I had shot Corsica, "I see what's going on here. This is like three best friends all wanting to do their first internship together! It's practically poetry, Leitmotif! They were meant to join us!"
I decided I liked him.
Ansel loudly cleared his throat. "Actually, I think thinking on it for a day or two really would be the best course. You've come out of rather nowhere, and a few discussions are warranted on our end as well while we take all this in."
Leif gave him an approving nod. "That's a good head on your shoulders. We need to stretch our legs, too, since we've been flying for a bit and don't just want to take off again without a siesta. So you've got at least until tomorrow. In the meantime, why not drop by our airship later on and say hi? No guarantees we'll all be there at once, but at least it won't be hard to find, right? We've got a pretty distinctive look up there."
"Have fun," I encouraged, a question pressing on me now that Graygarden had left the room and the atmosphere felt lighter. "Hey, so by the way... how did you find out about us? Did the old stallion really tell you? Because we kinda had this project under wraps until real recently..."
Leif chuckled and shrugged. "Oh, we get around. Believe it or not, apparently someone was singing about it at a concert in the mess hall the other day. What I wouldn't give to have heard that!"
Corsica somehow kept an innocent face. I reddened just from imagining myself in her shoes. And yet, if her new employer was this lax about silliness and goofing off... hopefully Leif could soon be my employer too.
"Well then," Vivace said, the first to open the door to leave. "Let's be on our way."
We followed suit, and Graygarden's reception room was empty once more.
An hour later, I wandered the halls of Icereach, listening to the sound of old, buzzing lights and water gurgling through the pipes strapped to the ceiling, my mane properly mussed again to get rid of the careful grooming. I had things to do, important ones. Chief among them was talking to Ansel... After the promise I had made not to immediately go flying off on an adventure, doing so now without his blessing felt like a good way to burn a whole lot of bridges.
Ever since the accident, my brother had been terrified of change. Most ponies who knew about it, chiefly Corsica, wrote it off as a side-effect of his amnesia: he had lost a lot, and any prospective shift in the status quo felt dangerously close to losing more. I could somewhat relate, though I was more averse to the idea of changing as a person rather than changing my physical surroundings. My talent made me so pliable in what I could do that I felt hard to define at times.
I had a good hunch Ansel's reticence went deeper than just that, but both of us had promised never to talk about the accident and his period of recovery, so it was difficult for me to find out for sure. But if the accident had made him want to stay home, it had only given me and Corsica the opposite... Trying to be a middle ground between his caution and her wanderlust was hard, especially when I yearned to come down on Corsica's side of the issue, but someone had to be the glue that held the three of us together. If I didn't do it, who else would?
Leif's job offer wasn't the same as leaving Icereach for good, but with an airship ride and an off-site destination, both of my friends sure would see it as a stepping stone. I'd have my work cut out for me, smoothing this over, especially when I wanted it so bad I practically had bias dripping out of my ears.
No, there was no way I could mediate this in this state, a scruffy little pony-shaped balloon of excitement who needed a talent in acting to avoid bouncing all the way through the halls. Before I could convince Ansel that the result I wanted wasn't so bad, I needed a firmer grip on my emotions. So while I waited, I had decided to get the blessing of a different target: Mother.
And the best door to Mother's heart was food.
Everyone needed food to survive, and not everyone cared to use the cafeteria for every meal. Icereach may not have offered much space for material luxury, but its jobs did pay well, and so a surprisingly well-equipped service sector had sprung up on Market Street, filled with a mix of permanent and rentable fixtures, rotating merchants, hardware stores, salons, game shops, art galleries, pawn shops, and, of course, good eating.
...Seriously, though. It was an underground street. Someone had liked the idea of a main street so much, it was as if they had taken eldritch powers and teleported a chunk of roadway from a normal city far underground. It had pavement with planters forming a traffic divider and everything, buildings rising up from the sides, yet curving into the tunnel roof instead of capping off in roofs of their own. Imagining the design discussions that must have happened before building this place almost made me laugh.
I folded one of my wings into the crudest possible imitation of a sock puppet, ventriloquizing for it out of the side of my mouth. "Oh, do you think we should build a road to nowhere underground?"
My other wing folded to respond to it. "Oh, I don't know, I found this big old cave while exploring that would be the perfect size for a road, why don't we-"
I clammed up, realizing Mother was staring at me with a raised eyebrow. Maybe that was a conversation that didn't need to happen when ponies were listening... I reddened slightly.
Although, the only way Mother had agreed to let me take her to lunch was that she got to keep wearing her bathrobe, so it wasn't like we weren't going to get strange looks anyway. If we weren't already at the entrance to market street, I would very much have changed my mind and looked for a way to butter her up from the privacy of our own home...
"Hey, there it is!" I broke the silence with a pointed hoof, indicating a door across the way that advertised noodles, soup and noodle soup. "This place is brand new, and I've been meaning to try it out ever since it opened. Looks worth the trip, eh?"
Mother processed this for a long, long while, chewing a wad of bubblegum. A casual observer would think she was slow, but I had a good hunch she had just been through so much in life that she felt entitled to make others wait on her, and got some enjoyment out of it to boot.
"Noodles." She eventually nodded. "Sure, why not? They have a dress code?"
"Probably should have checked beforehoof to make sure, but who cares?" I put a confident wing over her back, clad completely in my usual tall boots and tryhard-cool coat. "If they do, I'll probably be kicked out way before you are. Come on, let's go show them some style."
A sign promising Varsidelian cuisine with an outline of a bowl of steaming broth hung over the door we made for, and a bell chimed when we stepped inside. The noodle cafe looked about half-full, which was perfect for me: not crowded enough to make me uncomfortable, yet not so empty as to create the impression that there was a reason no one was there. A well-fed stallion with an apron and a nice mustache motioned for us to sit wherever we chose. It didn't seem attire would be a problem.
I glanced around, spotting a couple preparing to vacate a spacious corner bench and instantly deciding that corner would be mine. "Hey, guard that seat, could you?" I whispered to Mother, pointing out my spot of choice. "I'll go order for us. What do you want?"
Mother shrugged. "Noodles."
"Alright," I muttered, wandering over to the counter. "Anything goes, then. Hey, err, what's your menu?"
The stallion who had waved us in nodded from the other side of the counter, his voice laden with an exotic accent that made me think of desert oases and gentle wind. "Well, we have the special and the extra-special. For you, I would recommend..." He studied me and held his chin. "Hmm. I think you would like them both. One is bigger and the other is less expensive."
At least it wouldn't take long to decide... "Eh, how about one of both?" I asked, fishing around in my satchel and pulling out some money. I wasn't completely broke, thanks in large part to Corsica occasionally trying to hire me for random, made-up jobs that we both knew were a slightly more dignified excuse for her to keep me in the green than flat-out charity. Where she got the money, I had no clue. "How much do you want?"
"Give me one moment, please..." The stallion already had his back to me, opening a giant, steaming vat and floating up some bowls.
I held my money and tapped my hoof, not expecting the service to be so fast. The entry bell jingled again, but I didn't turn to look, too busy mulling over in my head how this lunch could go. I wanted Mother's blessing to go flying with Corsica, and of course taking her out to lunch couldn't be a terrible start, but how would I lay my argument out? I needed to establish-
"One special and one extra-special," the noodle stallion announced, dropping two bowls in paper heat-pads on the counter and starting to look through my money. One of them was twice as large and had a richer-colored broth with more floating spices, but other than that, they both looked like noodles. I took a quick sniff and decided that the extra-special was mine.
"Thank you kindly." I took back most of what he had left, pushing a little more across to him as a tip. "Now let's see..."
"Careful with them. They are hot," he warned me, turning to the next customer who had just entered. "Hello, sir. Order here, sit anywhere, and welcome to Noodle Land."
I balanced the bowls on my back with my wings, grateful for the insulation my coat provided, and turned back to Mother to-
The stallion in line behind me was Vivace.
I barely managed to avoid jumping and spilling my noodles, but my ears still stood straight up in shock. "You? What are you doing here?"
"Like we told you," Vivace replied in his quiet, gruff voice. "Stretching our legs." His eyes drifted to the bowls on my back. "I see you and I had the same idea. Here with one of your friends?"
In the split second I took to think of how to answer, he looked up at the room, and Mother was the only pony watching me. I guessed that answered that.
"Eh, you know." I waved a dismissive hoof, careful not to spill any hot broth on my back and rationalizing that this was one of the few areas of Icereach ponies could go for entertainment, so this really wasn't that impossible of an encounter. "Gotta talk to my mom and make sure she's on board with me maybe flying off on an airship for a day, depending on what you decide..."
Vivace nodded. "I'll be frank. I don't have any strong feelings regarding you coming along either way. But parents aren't likely to be the same, and we only gave you a brief overview of the situation to see if you were interested, without the details. So give a yell if you need backup..."
Well, that was generous of him. And an invitation I might need, too. "Thanks," I replied, taking my food and heading back to Mother, who was waiting for me with a raised eyebrow.
"Friend of yours?" she asked when I drew near, finally getting rid of her gum and nailing a perfect toss into a trash can across the room. "He's closer to my age range than yours."
"Not like that," I protested flatly, setting the bowls down and congratulating myself briefly on not spilling anything. "We just know each other for business. It's the thing Corsica was here at the crack of dawn about. You like spicy food, by the way? I forgot to ask, and this smells spicy."
Mother nodded, accepting her bowl as I slipped into the very corner and helped myself to mine. "Sure," she decided. "Makes me feel tough to eat it and not complain."
"So..." I paused, savoring my own spices and thinking how best to phrase my request. "On the topic of her being at our place in the morning... She kind of just got hired."
"Congratulations," Mother mumbled, talking with her mouth full.
"And it's a job that's out in the mountains, so it kind of involves taking an airship out of Icereach for a day or two, and it's sort of related to the stuff we're always working together on, and you know..." I fidgeted with my wings. Why was this so hard?
As if she could read my mind, Mother's eyes met mine with all her usual lack of intensity... yet knowing her at all, even the most vacant eye contact felt intense. "You want to go with her?" She chewed. Slowly. "You're acting like there's a reason you can think of that you shouldn't."
Well, how many reasons did I have? One, I didn't want to annoy Ansel. Even without talking to him, I knew he didn't want me setting hoof aboard any airships with strangers. Two, Ansel might actually be right. He might be paranoid, but our status as refugees proved that the world could be a dangerous place. Three, I got a good look every day at just what kind of a toll the journey here had taken on Mother, and while I could easily entertain dreams of traveling abroad, actually asking her permission...
At the same time, a short trip with my best friend by my side, for paying work and not even beyond the borders of Icereach's mountains was about as safe of a baby step as I could take. And I really wanted to go.
"I just don't want to annoy Ansel," I eventually managed, taking the lamest excuse. "And, you know, Icereach is safe and I don't want to be disrespectful of the sacrifices it took for you to get us here..."
Mother gave a single chuckle. "Do I look like I have enough self-respect to care about being disrespected? Be who you want to be. You're old enough to think for yourself." She loudly took another slurp. "Ain't on me if the world ends because of it."
There it was. I had her blessing. But still, I didn't feel satisfied. Probably because she really was trusting me to think for myself, and simply hopping on an airship because I wanted to follow Corsica was a whole lot less effort than she had put in when it was her turn to keep me safe... No, more likely it was because this entire conversation was an excuse to avoid talking to Ansel.
My face must have reflected the way I was feeling, because the next time I glanced up, I realized Vivace was walking away from the counter with his own noodles, and had an eye on me.
Perfect. I earnestly waved him over. If I was feeling like I wasn't being responsible enough, what better than to introduce Mother to one of my employers? Provided it went well, of course... and she was still in her bathrobe.
Great. Doubting myself already.
Mother watched him slowly as he approached, and he stopped before the table, greeting her with a slight nod and looking to me for introductions.
"Err..." I straightened my spine, well aware that it was too late to turn back now. "Mother, this is Vivace, who I sort of just told you about. He's one of Corsica's employers. Vivace, this is my mom."
Mother sipped slowly from her noodles, nodding to the bountiful empty space on our large corner bench. "Nehaly," she eventually said. "But most ponies call me Halcyon's Mom."
I reddened slightly, unsure if that was a jab at me forgetting to introduce her by name... even though it was technically true.
Vivace glanced between the two of us, probably looking for a resemblance. There wasn't really any to be found, though. Dyed mane color aside, Ansel was a spitting image of Mother, but I had been told I got all my looks from my father instead. Not that Mother ever talked about who that was.
Mother took another slurp at her noodles. "So, you know my kids."
"Kids?" Vivace gave her a questioning look as I sat there awkwardly, wanting to steer this conversation in a productive direction, yet hesitant to speak up when they already seemed to be talking. "I believe I've only met Halcyon."
Maybe the resemblance wasn't as strong as I thought... "Oh, Ansel's my brother," I cut in, explaining. "The other one with Corsica and me this morning."
Vivace raised an eyebrow at Mother. "An earth pony?"
Mother snorted, not taking her usual slow time to respond. "I mated beyond my species? Yes. Sue me."
"Apologies if that's a fraught topic. I didn't mean to pry." Vivace nodded, turning back to his food. "I was raised on the eastern continent. I'm sure things are done differently in Icereach, but it's hard to sever my mind from the old ways."
My ears shot up. "You're from the far east? From the Griffon Empire and Mistvale?"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mother replied, ignoring me. "I was too."
Vivace arched an eyebrow, giving me a nod but clearly more interested in Mother. "That quick to abandon the teachings? Some ponies would rather die than lose those shards of their old lives. Or did you turn away out of spite?"
Mother just shrugged. "I owed the Night Mother nothing, and needed friends to survive."
I was surprised to see them getting on as quickly as they did, especially to see Mother actually talking at a normal pace for a change, let alone finding common ground with another pony. And yet, I had no idea what they were talking about, and that couldn't stand. "Wait, wait, hold up," I pressed, putting both forehooves on the table. "The 'can't learn two things about it because Icereach is dumb and censors stuff' east? Where they call their founding figures goddesses?"
"Yes..." Vivace gave me a wary look, sipping at his broth.
"That's awesome," I began, the rush of excitement from my horizons suddenly broadening leaking into my voice. "It's one of the sites of interest for that research paper me and Corsica were doing that got her on the map for your ether crystal stuff, and it's also my homeland, so, you know, no personal bias, but-"
Vivace cut me off with a raised hoof and a lowered head. "Sorry. My history there is kind of personal, and I don't really like to talk about it."
My eye twitched so hard it felt like it was going to explode.
"Can't you just ask your mother?" Vivace asked, seeing my look.
Well, I wanted to, but after his response to my eagerness, it would be pretty lame to say I respected her boundaries and she didn't like to talk about it either...
Argh. I was almost too annoyed to be embarrassed. See, this was why always wearing a mask between my feelings and my actions was useful, and why I hated letting mine slip. A level of detachment really helped with the emotional whiplash of times like these... and now I couldn't even ask what he was on about with the old ways and Ansel being an earth pony. Was it taboo in the east for batponies and other ponies to have children together? Not knowing why that mattered was already burning a hole in my head...
Get a hold of yourself, Hallie. I stared at my dour reflection in my noodle broth, enough noodles slurped out by now to see a clear picture of my cheeks in my hooves and my eyes half lidded, my ears back far enough that I couldn't see them at all. I poked the broth with my tongue, and the reflection was gone. There we go.
Mother said something, and I totally missed it, but Vivace was talking again.
"Don't worry about that," Vivace said with a dismissive wave, though his eyes were serious and reassuring. "We all used to be more sympathetic to the Night Mother than Garsheeva, so we don't have a lot of those sentiments. I swear on my honor your daughter won't come to any harm under us."
"Eh?" I lifted my ears again, feeling like I had missed something big. "What are we talking about now?"
Mother shrugged. "You said they were hiring Corsica and you wanted to go with them, right?" She paused to swallow, took another bite and kept talking. "Anyone who remembers the Empire before the war has strong feelings about batponies, one way or the other. Just making sure they weren't on the side that would shank you."
"Shank me?" My fur prickled along my spine, memories of things I had heard long ago stirring in my mind and telling me I shouldn't be surprised. Memories like these were ones I wished I could forget, and even though I succeeded in dwelling on other things most of the time, they were still there. And these memories boiled down to one thing: Ansel sometimes had a point. There probably were ponies out there in the great, wide world who would shank me for nothing more than my slitted eyes and webbed wings.
I hated being reminded of stuff like this. All I wanted was to see what more to the world there was than Icereach...
"And like I said," Vivace muttered, snapping me out of it. "She will be safe with us. You have my word on this."
"I'm a vet, you know. I could take you with one hoof tied behind my back," Mother remarked nonchalantly... and then suddenly the temperature in the cafe dropped by twenty degrees. "So you'd better keep your promise."
And just like that, everything was back to normal. Except for the look on Vivace's face.
Mother's demeanor hadn't changed at all, yet I could see him quietly giving her a second evaluation. She deserved it, I thought to myself. Physically, even I could probably beat her in a fight ten times out of ten, what with the state her body was in, but she was still one of the strongest ponies I knew. She wore her weariness the same way I wore my own masks, most days, but on the rarest of occasions, it cracked, and a premonition of her old spirit shone through.
Figuring any lingering tension could do with defusing, I spoke up to change the subject. "So, are your other friends from the east as well?"
Vivace gave me a look that suggested I wasn't very good at paying attention. "Didn't I just say that? All of us are." He shook his head and turned back to his noodles. "Go find Rondo if you're looking for story time. He loves to talk. His hobbies are ships and weightlifting, so he's probably on the surface."
"Have fun," Mother urged, waving me along with her good wing. "I'll get the bill..."
Would she? I tilted my head. She had watched me paying up front, and was probably too sharp to forget a thing like that... I glanced between the two of them, and got the strangest feeling I was being shooed away so they could reminisce about their homeland in peace. Here, I would just be an unwelcome outsider.
Whatever. If Rondo was more talkative, all the better for me! Chugging the remainder of my broth and nearly coughing from the overwhelming spice, I nodded and waved, slinging my satchel over my shoulder and jangling the bell again as I left through the door.
Ships and weightlifting... It sounded like it was time to pay Balthazar and the yaks another visit.
My ears pressed back against the chill as I strode through the always-open gate to the military compound, the main courtyard conspicuously devoid of yaks. But shouts and cheers echoed from the training ground one area over, making it quickly obvious as to why.
I poked my head through the next gate to see a stack of yaks stomping and roaring in excitement as a stallion with a wavy mane squared off against a squat yak I recognized as the quartermaster, a friendly fellow with a rare grasp of grammar and a fiery underdog complex known as Darius. Balthazar, his perception keen as ever, spotted me from where he was cheering with Tarkov and earnestly waved me over, motioning for me to stick close to the wall as I approached and give the fight a wide berth.
Yep. It looked like Vivace had been right about where to find Rondo. The traveler met his opponent with a grin as I sidled around to join up with Balthazar, his fashion-armor-garb beaten and smudged. A gash on his cheek and a heavy black eye completed the look, while Darius was completely fresh. Inwardly, I smirked, looking forward to watching someone other than me get trounced by the yaks for a change.
Darius returned the grin, a stripe dyed in his mane that he had gotten me to add for him to make his appearance more distinctive. He lowered his horns and bullishly charged.
Rondo was ready. With a smoothness that almost seemed to defy inertia, he sidestepped and turned around, planting his forehooves and lashing out into the passing yak's side with a vicious buck. Muscles coiled, and Darius's eyes bugged in surprise at the strength, but he kept his balance, his low center of gravity putting in work as he pivoted and tried to smash Rondo with a forehoof.
The stallion kicked off his opponent and rolled away, but Darius dropped flat on his chest, sticking his legs all the way out and kicking Rondo's out from under him as he tried to rise out of the roll. Rondo collapsed in a heap and rolled again, leaving both of them to get to their hooves and neither with any momentum.
"Whew," I remarked, making it to my friends in the crowd. "That was a nice hit."
"Fighting pony very good," Balthazar rumbled, his shaggy head nodding in greeting. "But money on young Darius. Only so much one pony can take."
Darius broke into another headbutt charge the moment he was able, apparently trusting the strategy again even though it had gotten him kicked. I squinted as Rondo slipped into motion with the same counter. They were engaging again exactly the same... Both of them were probably trying to predict the other based on what had happened last time. No longer distracted by the research paper like I had been yesterday, I could give the fight my full attention, running through scenarios in my mind where Darius purposefully tripped and tried to crush the counterattack, or where Rondo grabbed him instead, or-
Rondo's kick impacted, and Darius actually tipped over, defying every advantage his center of gravity had given him. My jaw dropped. And apparently Rondo was caught just as surprised by the result, clearly expecting to have to force back some sort of shoulder slam and now off-balance as a result...
And then Darius was back instantly on his hooves, springing out of the fall like those training dummies with weighted bottoms. He whirled once, and Rondo didn't have the stance needed to dodge out of the way as a cloven hoof impacted him squarely, sending him flying all the way back into a wall where he collapsed in a heap.
"Yo, that was brilliant!" I exploded with the rest of the yaks, cheering the battle's conclusion as two of Darius's buddies ran out and started flexing with him and showing off. "Rondo knew from the first move that there was no way he would actually tip him with that attack since his physique was wrong, so for Darius to actually let it work and then counter was the last thing he was expecting!"
"Huh huh." Balthazar affectionately patted me so hard I collapsed in a heap on the ground, then proceeded to muss my mane. "Science pony sound like professional commentator who paid to say things everyone already know. Glad to see Halcyon in better spirits."
I reddened a little. Did I really say all that out loud...? "Yeah, good to see you too, big guy."
Tarkov raised an eyebrow at me. "What Halcyon visit alone for? Stick friends with work so could slack off like real yak?"
"It's a weekend, shaggy," I quipped, giving a friendly roll of my eyes. "We've got no work. Nah, I was looking for that guy who just got kicked into a wall. Is he alright?"
Already, I could see Rondo getting shakily to his hooves, scanning the crowd and spotting me with a knowing look. Well, that saved a little time... He hoofbumped Darius as he staggered past, making straight for me, Tarkov and Balthazar.
"Ponies know each other?" Balthazar asked, curious.
"Ahoy! Halcyon, right?" Rondo pointed a hoof at me and nearly tripped from the loss of balance as he approached, still managing to grin even though he was beaten black and blue. "These guys are pretty tough! Only managed to take down three of them before they got me good!"
I stared, a politely jaded expression overtaking my good mood. Here I thought I was about to become not the only one to get my rear handed to me in combat with the yaks, and he beat three of them? Without even a weapon?
It must have been his armor. Yep. Totally the armor, it was an unfair advantage...
"Ow, my aching mane..." Rondo groaned, seating himself near us and beginning to tend to his wounds.
"Yeah, we've met. But should someone get him a medic?" I asked, re-tracking my train of thought. "Looks like you really gave him a good one."
"Worry not!" Rondo cut us off with a raised hoof and a wince. "I'm too rough-and-tumble to be cowed by a few bumps and bruises. Besides, it's fun making Vivace yell at me about needing to patch me up every time."
Tarkov and Balthazar just nodded, watching us with interest.
I quirked an eyebrow at his state, wondering if I should tell him Vivace was likely to be indisposed for a while. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. He used to be a doctor, you know!" Rondo patted his armored flank, wincing from the motion. "You should see his brand! Lets him bring back ponies even from their deathbeds with barely a glance. He just doesn't like needing to do work."
My eyes tracked the hoof to where his cutie mark probably lay. A talent that let someone heal ponies off their deathbeds? It was true that not all talents were skill-based like mine. A good portion of them had real and measurable magic that could affect the physical world, like a batpony I knew in Aerodynamics who could make a quill write down everything he said without even touching it. But this sounded abnormally strong... Rondo was probably exaggerating.
Oh well. It was his discomfort, not mine.
"So what brings you up here?" Rondo asked, his cheerful tone at odds with his battered appearance. "Looking for us? Or just of the mind that fresh air and these fine fellows make better company than caves and hallways?"
I nodded at the yaks. "Both, really. But yeah, I was also looking for you in particular."
Balthazar and Tarkov nodded, the latter wandering off towards the armory where Darius and his crowd had gone to roughhouse and celebrate. "Sound like yak cue to leave and allow ponies business with each other," Balthazar remarked, stretching and setting off too. He glanced back over his shoulder as he left and winked. "But science pony should come to mess hall hour or two before dusk! Is yak speed-eating contest today. Need impartial judge to ensure Nicov not rig system to keep winning streak. Huh huh."
"Sounds like a fun evening," Rondo remarked once they were both lumbering away. "Well then. What can I do for you?"
"Yeah, so it's like this," I began, making absolutely sure my expectations were tempered to avoid baiting myself like I had done with Vivace. "I heard you three are all from the eastern continent?"
"Once upon a time, we may have hailed from that place, though we cut ties with it long ago," Rondo sighed, a hint of regret lingering in his voice. "A different lifetime, it feels like. What about it?"
Still struggling not to get my hopes up, I nodded. "So the east is kind of relevant to my studies, but Icereach's libraries are pretty bad and there's no material on the place about the war or what it was like before that, and I don't really trust what it has to say about after the war either. Call me curious, and I heard you like to talk."
"Oho ho!" Rondo winked, jumped to his hooves... and abruptly winced again, the motion proving too much for his battered body. "Ouch! A request for sore ears. You wouldn't believe how annoyed some of the others get listening to the same tales again and again..." He glanced up at the compound's tower, serving as Icereach's airship dock and still playing host to the sleek, mysterious vessel I had wondered about the day before. "But what do you say we make ourselves comfortable first? I could do this all day!"
My ears rose, and it started getting much harder to keep my eagerness in check... "You mean aboard your ship? The new one that just showed up the other day?"
Rondo laughed, shrugging off his injuries to lead the way. "The look on your face says you've never been on one before, have you? Fear not, she's as smooth of a ride as they come."
I had seen the ship from below several times, and had been up closer last night, when I came up to the dock to watch the stars come out, but this was the first time I had gotten a good look at it during the day. Sleek and dark, it was made from black metal with burgundy highlights and gold trim covering the seams and rivets, and had a militaristic feel that was simultaneously composed and threatening. Its construction reeked of money, far above what normally would go into an airship, yet all invested in the little details and overall quality and intricacy instead of gimmicky features that nobody needed. The whole thing gave off the air of a classy, tasteful noble who knew they didn't need to dress up or raise their voice to command everyone in the room.
Among airships, among machines, this craft was a princess. I decided I was very much in love.
The ship had a sloped roof that didn't look ideal for hanging around on top of, but some narrow deck space was still present in front of the windshield, halfway up and indented into the ship like a U around the prow. Sheltered and recessed, this shelf was where the gangplank led, and I could see a door on the side leading properly into the ship's interior. It wasn't an unusual arrangement for dirigible aircraft, the slower, cheaper and vastly more energy-efficient type of ship compared to newer models that hovered using propellers or some type of mana thrusters. What was unusual, however, was that this ship didn't have any sort of visible lift mechanism whatsoever, yet was hanging in the air as casually as though it were seated on the ground. In fact, it even had the metal frame for a dirigible, a sturdy wire mesh forming a tapered cylinder and suspended from supports over the main body, yet with no canvas or casing applied.
All I could do was squint, my earlier adulations having somehow missed this oversight... except that it clearly wasn't one, since the ship was still flying. "How... How does..." I stopped to sneeze, my throat slightly scratchy from the altitude and the cold. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed out the previous night... "How does she stay in the air? The dirigible's missing!"
"You like her?" Rondo waggled his eyebrows at the ship. "We call her the Aldebaran! It's also sort of our group name. Means The Follower, or one who chases! She's a special one, not made with your usual technology. I'm the engineer! And if you're interested now, stick around until we fire her up for real!"
I followed him towards the door, my eyes still more on the ship than the narrow gangplank I was walking to board it. The follower, huh? Maybe they followed rumors of treasure. It would certainly be one way to afford a beauty like this... There were probably treasure chests of jewels stacked up in the hold. I stepped onto the deck and rubbed against one of the support posts connecting the railing and the roof. Not even a little weather damage. As curious as I was to hear about the Empire, getting to see this ship up close and in the daylight was something else.
Rondo pulled open the door opposite the boarding walkway and stepped inside, waving me after him. I followed with wide eyes. The ship's interior was much bigger than I had imagined it, largely bronze-colored and lit softly from above and below. We were in a room that covered the whole width of the ship and most of the length, and at least half the height as well, with facilities like a small galley and a map table tucked against the walls toward the rear. Lounge tables sat against the windows toward the prow from the side door, and the command area up front looked sharp and precise, twin chairs overlooking a huge console of technology before the windshield.
"Were you picking fights out there already?" a disapproving voice said the moment we entered.
I looked up to see a middle-aged, heavyset earth pony I didn't recognize wearing the same garb as the rest of the visitors, sitting at one of the twin window tables in a cushy chair and playing cards against no one. Rondo huffed at her. "Of course I was. But who asked you?"
The mare rolled her eyes, then zeroed in on me instead. "Who are you, then? The expert for the cave? You know we're not leaving yet, right?"
I blinked, her tone very much one of a respect-your-elders grandmother, even though a conservative guess would place her around forty. "Err... Well, you said to stop by any time..."
"...Hmph." She stared at me, then shook her head and went back to her one-sided card game.
"That's Tempo. Don't mind her," Rondo remarked, motioning me toward the plush, reclining chairs at the table opposite from hers and sinking into one himself. "Ahhh... She got the short end of the stick when they were handing out personalities, so she stayed behind to hold down the fort while we handled negotiations."
"At least I didn't get the short end in manestyles, muscle colt," Tempo snipped from across the room. "You'd think you were hosting a concert, not trying to hire someone for a job..."
I gave Tempo one last look and then shrugged. "Well, okay. Nice place you got here, by the way."
"I know!" Rondo winked. "I'd offer to give you the tour if my bones didn't have something to say about it. So let's relax instead. You came here to pepper me with questions about the eastern continent and whatever else, did you not? Pepper away!"
"Roger." I whipped open my satchel and withdrew a sizable pad of notes that had been my primary research tracker for the Griffon Empire portion of the fault plane paper. If I was going to get a chance like this, I needed to do it right... "So, err, this might be a silly first question, but the Night Mother and Garsheeva... Were they just founding figures who were revered as goddesses, or were they actually immortals?"
Rondo raised a very concerned eyebrow, and at the opposite table, Tempo did a double-take and choked on her tea. "What kind of sarosian needs to ask a question like that?"
I sheepishly tapped my forehooves together, figuring that if I was going to drive home how much of an ignoramus I was on this, it was better to question the easy stuff and do it all in one blow. "Sarosian? That's the eastern word for batpony, yeah?"
Rondo lowered his head and sighed. "You mustn't've been kidding about good info being hard to come by if you find even that worth confirming. But yes. The goddesses of the north and south were very much real, very much visible and very much divine. The Night Mother ruled from the shadows in the north, speaking to her children through altars in the night and granting advice and wisdom that could only be born of an all-seeing eye. And Garsheeva was a sphinx the size of a building, soaring the southern skies and demonstrating her power for all to see by destroying the ferocious storms that would roll down from the mountains. Their nations revolved around them, Mistvale and the Griffon Empire. They were the first and greatest facet of life in the east, their visages inescapable and their laws absolute, something all ponies and griffons would know." He looked up at me. "They reigned for centuries without end. Their influence spread even as far as Varsidel in the north. How do you simply know naught about them so?"
I was too busy scribbling on my notes to answer. It wasn't that information about the east was impossible to find, just impossible to verify, since primary sources were never available and the materials I did have were rife with conflicting, typo-riddled accounts, enough of which referred to the goddesses like they were no longer around...
"...Studious," Tempo remarked, grudging approval in her voice. "Looks like you've found a willing student, muscle colt."
"If you could feel the benefits of working out like I do, you wouldn't be so keen on making fun of it," Rondo grunted, taking my silence for no answer. "Oh well. This must be their yak church's influence. Probably pretending to your city that the goddesses never existed. Really can't make up my mind how I feel about those guys."
I chewed the tip of my quill, writing feverishly. "Eh, not really," I said around it, crossing out several lines Rondo had just debunked. "They call Yakyakistan a theocracy, but I dunno any tenets of what they preach. Never get any missionaries out here, and only the yaks believe in them. And even then, I think it's a hundred percent ideology. But, like..." I trailed off, a realization hitting me that maybe I should have had long ago. "Huh. I wonder if Icereach just really doesn't like anyone talking about anything... supernatural..."
My eyes slowly widened. I had never heard enough about the yak church to suspect it was more than a guide for healthy living built into a governing body with a flashy name. The eastern continent's historical representation was woefully spotty and incomplete, which could happen if something utterly integral to every aspect of life there was forcibly removed. No one had any records of the chapel by the ether river, and for that matter Graygarden didn't seem to like our project on the place, either...
"Arrgh! Crystal kittens, how did I take so long to notice that?" I stomped a hoof, my face tinging at the accidental swear. "It's anything supernatural! There's no random censorship, it's just Graygarden's biases towards... empirical data, or some garbage. Bluh."
I rubbed my face with my forehooves. Well, this was a fine howdy-do. Especially when what drove me were the things we couldn't explain and the questions we didn't already have answers to. Just another thing that made me want to leave Icereach...
"You alright there, kid?" Rondo asked, tilting his head.
"Nah, I'm fine, just putting two and two together..." I rubbed at my ears, wondering how this made so much sense, yet took me until today to realize. "Whatever. Yaks. Griffons. Err..." There would be plenty of time to extrapolate this and see if I could glean any new insights about holes in my knowledge later: this was the time for filling the holes I already knew about, and none were bigger than my homeland. Forcing my curiosity and frustration into check, I put back on an eager face. "So! For someone who knows basically nothing, what would be entertaining to hear?"
"Hah. Putting the burden of choice on me, are you?" Rondo arched an eyebrow. "How about the tale of Giovanni Goldfeather, the cursed lord of money, who nearly eighty years ago attempted to take over the Griffon Empire through wealth and avarice alone? It began with a small improbability: he bore a daughter, who was far too headstrong to assent to a political marriage for his own gain..."
"...And thusly was the great heretic Yanavan sealed away in the mountains of Mistvale, the treasures he stole clasped in hoof, his location left to the winds and tales of his deeds enshrined as the great folklore bogey of our time," Rondo finished, the horizon beginning to turn yellow as the sun started its descent toward the boundless glacier. "Never to be heard from again. Now, who next? Shall I spin the legend of Wallace Whitewing, Izvaldi's invincible champion of equality? The single-day crusade, in which the armies of the province of Gyre attempted an invasion of the north? Or perhaps..."
I had no idea how to respond, my head utterly swimming with names and dates I would never be able to remember if not for my notes. And even then, with how many times I got lost in the stories and forgot to keep writing, I would be lucky if I had material on even half of what he had told me.
Fortunately, it was all just for entertainment, most of his stories taking place decades before I was born. My scientific interest in the east extended to exactly one event: one of the fault planes Corsica and I had dated corresponded precisely with the start of their war eighteen years ago, and while Rondo hadn't straight-up refused to talk about it, several hours of subtly poking and subtly being rebuffed was leaving me with the strong impression that even for someone who liked to talk as much as this stallion, that conflict wasn't an experience with many pleasant memories attached. I knew it had been a conflict between batponies and everyone else, and I knew Icereach's libraries were lying at least by omission when they mentioned no supernatural forces involved. I knew it had been bad, far worse than an ordinary war, but not exactly why. And that was about everything.
Maybe I should just focus myself on the prospect of the cave they had found. Having a second site to produce samples from could give us any amount of invaluable information, and it was impossible to predict what discoveries that might preclude. And unlike ponies, caves and crystals wouldn't care in the slightest if I had to be pushy to learn-
"Hey there!" Rondo called, fishing for my attention. "You look a little zoned out! Any preferences, kiddo?"
I pressed back my ears, realizing I had absolutely been caught slacking off in the middle of a conversation. "Err, well..." I didn't want to admit that I had forgotten the options, and looked around, searching for an escape. "How about, let's see..."
The door opened, and my prayers were answered as Vivace tromped inside, immediately stealing Rondo's attention.
"...You look like trash," Vivace commented dryly, locking Rondo into a staring contest.
"Healsies?" Rondo asked in return, holding up his battered hooves and plaintively sticking out his lower lip.
Vivace didn't appear moved by his plea. "This city has no riffraff, and most of the residents can barely lift a briefcase. You had to have gotten hurt on purpose."
"What can I say?" Rondo shrugged. "Those yaks looked like good sport, and I have a most excellent medic on my side! Besides, I thought you'd be grateful for the chance to keep your skills sharp."
"But I'm not so thrilled about coming back from my vacation to find you making me do work." With a heavy frown, Vivace reached out and touched Rondo's face with a hoof. A faint, ghostly glow surrounded it, and I inched closer to see, my mouth open in curiosity. Was this that healing talent at work?
"Oh. Pfft. Work," Rondo scoffed. "This, coming from the stallion who can supposedly bring ponies back from the brink of death? These wounds are mere scratches by comparison."
Vivace didn't budge, looking bored. "Only for wounds that are fresh... within a minute. The longer you wait, the harder it gets, and the less I can do. And you took these hours ago." The glow faded, and he pulled back his hoof, Rondo's face no longer marred by a split lip and a scrape along one cheek... though a dark ring persisted around one eye. "Hmm. I think you can keep that as a souvenir. Where else did you get walked on?"
As Rondo pointed out his pain points, I watched with wide eyes. "Seriously? You can heal ponies just by doing that? Even if it has drawbacks, that's awesome..."
"It isn't awesome. It only causes ponies to be more reckless, because they think they can get away with it." Vivace frowned as he worked, poking and prodding Rondo a little harder than was probably necessary. "And no matter how many ponies you heal, more will always get hurt."
I blinked. "Well, that's a cynical way of putting it. Couldn't you take a talent like that and become a really good doctor?"
"He was a great one, once... Ouch! Watch where you're putting your hooves," Rondo grunted in pain. "A yak sat on me there..."
Vivace looked annoyed at having his past talked about for him. If he had once been a doctor... well, it wasn't too hard to put together that he wasn't one anymore. Maybe the war had overwhelmed him with ponies he couldn't save, or done something else to break his spirit? I didn't want to press, but I had a hunch the reason he got along with Mother was because he hadn't escaped from that conflict unscathed either.
Maybe it was time to go. Balthazar's eating contest was almost here, and my time for listening to Rondo ramble was probably up now that Vivace was back for the evening. Though Tempo had retired to her quarters long ago rather than listen to the stallion recount any more tales, and maybe Vivace would be the same...
I shuffled through the notes I had taken, fairly sure I had organized them as best as I could without sitting down and pouring real, proper effort into it. Rondo had given me stories from varied enough time settings that I could probably at least cross-reference their dates to fact-check all my previous materials for whether they were blatantly made up. The day had been wildly entertaining, and I both had fun, learned a lot, and made a friend I was fairly sure would vouch to Leif for me to be allowed along. So if it was time to go, it was time to go... but I had still saved my most important question for the end.
"Well, it's been real," I announced, getting to my hooves and fixing my satchel and setting my sights on the door, psyching myself up for the thing I wanted to know most. "Probably gotta make sure Mom's got dinner, and all that. Really hoping I can come along with you and Corsica, you know?"
"Fear... Ow! Fear not!" Rondo winced visibly as Vivace cracked something in his spine back into place. "I'll put in a good word for you to everyone involved. No lover of history is an enemy of mine!"
I made it three steps toward the door before I spoke. "Thanks. But, err, I was wondering..." I flicked my ears. "Every time you talk about the goddesses, Garsheeva and the Night Mother, it's always in past tense. Are they not still around somewhere?"
Rondo sighed and didn't answer. But somehow, Vivace did.
"I'd understand if you haven't heard this phrase," he began. "But the war eighteen years ago isn't called the 'Twilight of the Gods' for no reason."
My heart slowly sank. Apparently, the information Icereach had on the east after the war didn't feel less censored and more complete by accident.
"North versus south. Sarosians versus everyone else. Goddess versus goddess... or so the story goes," Rondo lamented. "To be honest, I don't remember much, myself. I was out at sea when it happened, and missed the whole thing. Whatever the case, there was fighting in the Empire. Mistvale invaded and their invasion was ultimately crushed. And when the dust settled, there were no more sarosians and no more goddesses."
"Sounds like it stinks," I commented lamely. "Well... anyway. See ya around."
Noise roared in my backwards ears as yaks stomped and applauded, a server in the daintiest apron imaginable depositing fresh new trays of roast mushrooms before Nicov and his opponent, a yak I was mostly familiar with in passing called Dimitri. The shrooms smelled impossibly scrumptious, five polished platters serving as towering records of progress beside each contestant, and I was cheering and pumping my hooves from atop a small wooden judge's throne, egging on the contest to the full extent of my abilities.
At least, that was what my body was doing. Inside, I wore my actions like a shell, the bright colors and sensations of the mess hall muted and distant as I came down from the high of Rondo's stories, still processing everything I had heard.
The things they knew about my homeland could fill some gaps in my knowledge, but none that were critical. The war, the Twilight of the Gods, was the event that matched dates with a fault plane, and that was the one part of the east they either didn't know or wouldn't talk about. And the eastern goddesses were gone... Gone within my lifetime, even, if by a few weeks or less.
I wanted to hold my head in my hooves. There had to be more meaning to the world than just my life and science, something bigger than me that was out there to be found. I couldn't just sit here, content with the way things were, when the world beyond the bunker kept calling out my name. And these stories had reinforced that assertion. There really were beings out there that could make the world revolve around them, beings I had a burning curiosity to find. But the stories also hadn't actually gotten me any closer to anything tangible. They were just entertainment, and nothing more.
No. I had distracted myself with the fact that these visitors were from my homeland. I had gotten curious, endulged my curiosity, and had a great but ultimately unproductive time. And now it was time for me to get my head back in the game and re-focus on what really mattered: there was another cave they had found, another real, tangible link to the ether river, to our research, maybe to the chapel, and most likely a step on the road toward getting out of Icereach and seeing the world as a whole.
I put my game face on and let the world slide back to focus, mushroom trays piling up as the contest continued to rage. I already had Mother's approval, and Rondo's. I definitely needed Leif's and Ansel's. Tonight, I would party with my yak friends, and tomorrow... Back to work.