//------------------------------// // Interlude II // Story: Fallen-Song // by Chicago Ted //------------------------------// To their dismay so great, this storm had spread Throughout their sight, until the skies were red With sun so blue, as was before. They shut Their eyes, t’ avert them from the sand, instead Of their cloaks, should they lose them. As they’d strut Through such disaster, she would ask him, “What Force dares to stop us, even here and now?” “We’re at the place your sister sent us – th’ hut Beneath the ground could have protected – how Could we have lost it? How did we allow?” She shook her head. “I wish to say I know – But th’ answer is beyond me. I will vow To safeguard you, as you have me. We’ll show The sandstorm that we cannot e’er be slow.” We’ll go together, never separate, And keep us in each other’s sight.” “How so?” “Just watch!” And with a bit of magic great, She bound the two together. “I would hate If you had claustrophobia,” she told him. And then, “Regardless, we’ll keep moving straight.” She lookt around for th’ cliff, whose sight was grim From where she was, and took a step – a slim Wing cover’d up his back, by reflex pure. His fur a shaggy mess, yet feathers prim Would give him shelter, where his cloak for sure Would fail. With her, he surely could endure The storm – he just had t’ focus on the trip. One step forth, never back, and such demure Efforts would yield a victory. A rip Behind him startl’d th’ baker – ’long his hip The sand would course, like needles on his hide. He lookt behind – of course, he’d need a strip Of fabric to repair the gap. He sigh’d – Perhaps, if he had thought of just how wide The gap had been, he would have fix’d it soon. He shook his head, and kept on as her guide. His back would find the cliffside soon, one hewn From sand that prest down o’er time from a dune. He felt it crumble, ever just, from where He lean’d against it. Looser sand was strewn From high-spun winds, and where his hide was bare Would suffer far the worst. He did not care; He was quite confident that this would pass Without more incident. “You’d think I’d spare Not one bit t’ mend that tear?” A bit of sass Would tell him that her magic could surpass The unicorns of where he liv’d. He felt A pull upon the cloth, and that crevasse Was pull’d together in her magic, dealt From her horn, stitching up, which hid his svelte Form once again. “I thank you,” spake he. “Why Did you do that?” “Why not?” she said. “I’ve dwelt In storms of sand myself as well, and sky Above, I’ll let you suffer not.” A sigh, And she would add, “Not when I could amend What I have done to you.” He would reply, “What have you done to me?” “I would have lend A hoof to you, in Shade’s Corruption, send It out your mind, but here we are, in spite Of all I’ve done within your head – dear friend.” As though on cue, the Princess of the Night Would feel his absence – e’en with her spellrite, They could not be together at each time She would command. Then she lookt to the height, And saw her sister there appear. What rhyme Made this thing possible? What sort of chime Could summon her here at her magic will? She thought t’ herself. Might she help in the climb Uphill? Would she instead preclude? So shrill The winds would sound within her ear, the fill Of sand would only block the noise. Her form Was vague at first, but soon would become still Enough to form a figure white. The storm Would seem to settle, though the sandy swarm Still somehow hid the baker from her view. The heat, too – it would cool to merely warm, As though it were a pleasant day. The blue Princess would hear her sister speak right through The storm. “I pray you hear my voice,” she said, Her words echoing through the land. Too true Her words were – ev’ryone could hear, the dead And living both alike. And in her head, She could not shut her out, nor did she wish To do so – she could only pray instead That she could hear the other way, cherish Her words, and offer her help. Like a fish From water, she however could not tell Her all her troubles she fac’d. She’d vanish Before she could begin so, just as well. “But fear me not,” she would continue, “dwell Upon the promises of your return. “I cannot say the same for him – a spell May work, but it may not. He’ll have to earn A spot beside you.” “Did he not?” “He’ll learn The ways of our Equestria, our home, first.” “’Twas his home too!” “My dear, you need concern Yourself not what he knew before – his thirst For knowledge compensat’s for what was curst Upon him.” Luna ponder’d sister’s speech – What curse had he encounter’d? What’d be th’ worst That he experienc’d? Luna had seen each And ev’ry hazard in his path – their reach In this land was extensive, so ’twas worth The pain. “Honeycomb!” shouted she. “Beseech Her words, if you are able!” Yet the dearth Of his response did not confide – no mirth Would show itself right now. “You ought to hear What I shall say to you. You’ll soon unearth What you have set out to discover. Near The top – ” she pointed thus – “it will appear To you.” “Describe it to me! I must know!” But Luna’s words went sans an answer mere. The winds pict up again, and she would grow Closer to Princess Luna, even though Her sister might be well unable t’ see. As th’ apparition lean’d, she saw the glow And then she spoke again. “You must not flee When danger rears its head.” Her voice Took on an unexpected darker edge “Now heed my words, and soon you will be free.” And then she lean’d back out, as though a wedge Was driven ’twixt the two. The storm would dredge Her visage from the sky, as though she’d not Existed. Luna noted where the ledge Would meet the mountain proper – winds had wrought A pathway upwards. Shouted he, “I sought Your presence for so long, yet I’d not find You in the storm!” He truly had been caught Completely unaware, despite the bind That Luna plac’d between them, which defin’d Their amity. “I praid the storm not lose You, anyway.” “It did not – ’tis behind Us now, in any case.” “I know that ruse – It was Celestia, was it not? She’d use The storm to separate us, just to talk To one and not the other.” “You accuse My sister of such doing – what a shock! But then, e’en I know not of why this flock Behav’s the way it does. And furthermore, I tried to speak with her, but she would mock Me with her ignorance,” she said. “I swore That she could hear me, just as had before.” “I’m just glad you did not spill blood,” he said – “Or otherwise, it’d be much more a chore.” Luna did recall her warning in her head – As they proceeded on the road ahead, They did find other beings, who’d explain Their pasts to them. To wit, the law-mare shed No falsehood before, yet it brought her pain; The recordkeeper made it rather plain That she would die before she would offend; The jester sought out laughter – once again, She fail’d to understand the path she’d wend Would bring her to a rather hapless end; The clerk, whom she had found had long decaid, Was generous to others, not to him – he’d spend Each moment to his detriment, to aid Another, should they need; they would be straid From their path by the hippogryph, Whale-Road, Who would build a raft of such a grade That it would speed them on their way; th’ abode Of Hideaway was hidden well, which’d bode Not well eventually; in any case, None of them were slain by their hoof, which show’d Their lack of bind still to the land – their pace Was far too quick for them to litter th’ place As such. “I think we’re in the clear,” she spake, Although the sandstorm still rag’d on. “Your face Should still be cover’d up, i’ th’ meantime. Shake The grains loose; we’ve a newfound path.” She’d make It clear to him; the wind had carv’d their way – ’Twas just a walk. “My wings need not to ache To lift ourselv’s up th’ mountain.” Then a ray Of sunshine pierc’d the swirling dust, and they Knew that the storm would soon subside. They brav’d the dying winds, not much to say, And started winding up the cliff. She ey’d That, somehow here, the sandstorm had not tried To overcome the cliff. Up here, ’twas though It never happen’d, not at all. She sigh’d – Perhaps if she had brav’d the load, the flow Of sand would never have been quite the throe For them. But then, she’d not see sister dear And hear the words that she spoke, nor to show Herself to her. In fact, she’d truly fear That such an action’d make her miss her here. But with the storm’s help – or Celestia’s – well, They could advance with all due haste. So near They both were to their goal, and yet they fell So far behind, that Luna had no spell T’ reverse their time spent listening to those Who shar’d their tales with them, of where they dwell, And what they did in times before. Who knows? Perhaps they did impart some wisdom-prose. But that she’d have to ponder later – now, She’d have to trace the scent along her nose, And reach their shared prize. “If you’d allow,” He said, “I’ll walk ahead, and will endow You anything I find as hazardous.” Her graciousness knew no limits; his vow He’d honor in turn, seeking them out, plus T’ discover any other way up. Thus, Their partnership has proven most benign So far, with barely anything to muss. Before they left, behind them, where the fine Sand settl’d, there came creaking of a spine. ’Twas not hers, nor his; rather, the hermit Had climb’d from his hole in the ground. “I pine Not for a ruin’d hiding space – I’d split Before too long; the sandstorm made me sit For longer than I wanted.” Luna’d ask, “Do you think we are int’rested i’ th’ fit Of a mad artist? Go about your task And leave this place – seek out a hole, and mask Your presence. We’ll be climbing up this place To seek out what we’ll need t’ escape, and bask In victory.” She turn’d around – a pace Too quick for other times – and made the chase Vertical. Meanwhile, Hideaway would pack Just what he needed, then left sans a trace. “Listen,” Honeycomb said, “I mean no flack, But what did she tell you? I can’t go back And try to listen for myself.” “Indeed,” Replied Luna – although she had to wrack Her mind to find an answer, fill the need. “She said nought that I knew, but we’ve agreed That nothing out to stand i’ th’ way, t’ defy.” “And yet you mustn’t spill their blood – I’d heed That warning just as well.” Up in the sky, He saw that such a long climb was. A sigh, And he would start uphill. Much steeper than Before, the path would never modify Itself, lest they take longer. If they ran, They’d run a risk of falling off – the tan Ground show’d its weakness towards the end. “However,” he said, “we can start to plan On th’ fact, consid’ring such a recent trend, That we can count on others to help mend Whatever problems we would surely meet.” “O baker,” said she, “don’t you e’en pretend That that is even true. We should not greet Another so, no matter just how sweet That any of them might seem at first glance. You do remember th’ dragon; don’t you cheat Your memory! We both gave him a chance – You know what th’ outcome was. Nay, we’ll advance Upon the path by just ourselv’s.” “We’re set, My Liege” – though truly this won’t change his stance. How far up was it? Luna peer’d, to get A better view – alas, the clouds’d not let Her see the highest point. Perhaps, she thought, We’d not climb the fullest way, I’d bet. As she went climbing up the path, she caught Her hoof inside a crevice, one she’d not See sooner, even if she mind her walk. She pull’d it free, but knew that if she sought A safer way, for her and him, she’d balk At such a revelation. She would knock Lightly on th’ cliff to their left, and it gave Not much at all – in fact, a single rock Would tumble down from high above – it’d shave Away a small amount, yet she was brave Enough t’ ignore that. Still, the solar heat Would start to bear them down. Perhaps a cave Or two along the way could help them beat The clime – perhaps, if the air cool’d to meet Their acclimation, they would agonize N’ at all. But then, they’d have another feat To overcome – air thins as ponies rise; A pegasus won’t e’er say otherwise. And with it, heat would drop, but not to where They’d be more comfortable. In the skies Above them, to the peak, they might not bear The consequences from the thinning air. I hope I’ve magic well enough to fix The complication, should it ever dare T’ arise, she praid. She knew so many tricks For other issues, yet no specifics For sickness of the climb. He said, “Look! I clearly see how far we’ve gone!” Th’ antics O’ th’ baker proved well enough to hook Her sight. And what she saw had left her shook: They barely made their way along the side O’ th’ mountain, but the distant vista took Her breath away. O what a sight her guide Had found! She saw the raft on which they’d ride, And down by th’ creek, she saw Serenity From which ’twas hewn, and further in the wide View, they saw where many a spring-fed tree Would grant them rest and shelter, both for free. And furthest of it all, another splash Of black dust – Shade’s Corruption? – “A, we Should be upon our way.” Sudden whiplash Would make her pause her musings, then to wash Them out her mind, as though they never were. But then again, she thought, that might be ash From Tângroen’s raid, and it was all a blur In any case. “Let’s go.” And so, with her With him, he’d keep his lead, and she would trail To seek their prize – on that she’d bet her fur.