With spoken words so hopeful, Luna’s fear
Would dissipate, soon be replac’d with cheer,
Or something like it. “And besides,” he said,
“You’ve made your vow to me, and you’d adhere
To each one of its words – e’en if we’re dead,
We’ll not let such a fact to loose and spread
Throughout our minds. I soon will take the lead,
And you shall come, and we shall get ahead
Of anything that dar’s t’ oppose – agreed?”
She nodded her assent. “So now take heed
Upon the path before us – follow to
The end; ’tis rather simple, yet we need
To make haste – ” “E’en in face o’ what she told you?”
“O, Solar Rain? What she said’s nothing new;
I pray she is correct about the fact
That we walk lonely up this hill, but true,
I fear that we do not, so such a pact
Between us two ensures the artifact
Is used I’ th’ right way. Now, shall we go?
We can speak more along the way.” His tact
Betraid his hurried haste, so Luna’d know
To travel ’long with him, and not too slow.
They met the sun again; howe’er, this time,
He did not cower back from pain – to show
His weakness at this point, in such a clime
He’d grown familiar with, was a crime.
Besides, he surely knew that cooling shade
Would come around to the two in due time.
But then she would remember, as they made
Their way around, the darker side would fade
Into a thinner strip. It signal’d where
They were, but Luna too was quite afraid
That soon they’d have no dark for them to share.
And worse, as they went higher up, the air
Would heat up greater than the far-neath ground.
And even if, she thought, I do not care
About the clime or climb, I’ve truly found
My guide is weak – but who am I to sound
A word to voice my pain? I’ll sooner keep
My silence as we climb upon this mound.
And soon I will awaken from my sleep
Call’d death. I just need focus not how steep
The climb may be, nor how far I have come –
And then she err’d, and saw the drop was deep,
Much deeper than she found before, and from
Then on, she kept her gaze up, not become
So frighten’d of the all-too-likely fall.
To take her mind off it, she felt the sum
Of hot air. “Let us make our way, be done
With sweating like a water-fall.” But none
Of them would take the step – frozen in place,
They found the slightest movement nary fun –
E’en with the goal within their sight, the pace
They’d travel with would not quite be a race.
With each step they would take, they could retreat
Two more, or even three, until the space
Between the two and down would vanish. Th’ heat
Would then consume them, driving out the sweet
Taste of their victory. But they’d not dwell
Upon such thoughts so grim – they would not eat
The crow so soon, and even if she fell
Off th’ edge some time ago, that painful spell
Did not dissuade the two from venturing
Onto the peak. ’Twas not that he could tell,
But th’ baker had within his gut a thing
He never could explain. He heard it sing,
But not with hunger – rather, something odd
Was coming forth – whatever could it bring?
And when would they meet? As the two would trod,
He kept his mind so focust on the broad
Range of dangers that he could face. Would he
Encounter dragons? What if he should prod
At something that’d give way? If he’d not see
It coming, he praid that it’d not take glee
In causing pain before his coming fate.
And what would Luna do when on this spree
She’d be alone? Of all, he’d mostly hate
Th’ imagination of what would await
The Lunar-Princess. He got her this far
Without a fail – and now, at any rate,
He ought to finish what he started. Par
With qualities his family would mar
N’ at all, he swore he’d see her to the end.
No matter what would come, or what could mar
The cliffside path ahead the two, he’d send
The threat away however. He would lend
His treasur’d life, if that was what it took.
“I wonder how much further til we wend
To th’ top o’ th’ mountain,” said he. “I’m mistook
If I would say that we’ve not much.” “But look!”
She pointed with a wing. “Mind not the fog
That blocks our view – we can still overlook
Th’ entire land. We needn’t even jog
To reach the top, for we see not a dog
Nor bird nor tree nor anypony near.
It’s just us two, and though the path may clog,
That much is just another setback, dear,
And for that much you do not need a seeër.”
“But even so,” he would at last confess,
“I sense a coming danger, one that’d veer
Us off the path and to our doom – unless
We stop it.” “Do you know what sort of mess
We now approach?” “I cannot say for true.
That much is all I know about the stress.
Forsooth, I really haven’t other clue!”
She would assuage, “I’m sure you have no view
Much better than you, baker, would describe.
If that enumerat’s the record, do
Not panic – I can oversee this tribe
Of two.” “I hope your powers would not bribe
Your strength,” he said – and then he spoke no more.
His throat still hurt, he wanted still t’ embibe
The rarest treasure – water – anymore.
He suffer’d constantly, because the poor
Guide realiz’d how long it had been when last
He took a drink. And now, his tongue was sore
From much the same dryness that plagu’d the past.
And furthermore, to think, across the vast
Height of this mountain, there were no more trees
To indicate a source? He was aghast
At such a revelation – then a breeze
Would break his concentration with such ease.
He shiver’d as before – e’en with the sun
And its heat beaming down, the wind would tease
Him on the uphill mound-climb. O what fun
It was to bear against it! He was done
With folly-weather, and he had to rest
Someplace where they would never be disturb’d.
Such places were so few, he thought it best
To stick much closer to her. As her guest,
He yet had some restraint, but that would thaw
When heat pict up again. He then regrest
Away from her, removed his cloak. She saw
How hot he was, and with her wings, she’d draw
Its coolness, which safeguarded her dear guide.
The winds blew by, and with it all its raw
Heat. Then she found a cave, within the side
O’ th’ cliff. With no more choices, she then pried
Their way within. The darkness there would cloak
The two, until her magic horn had tried
To light th’ interior. Soon the place awoke
With sharper rocks from down the roof, which broke
With just the slightest touch. He lookt around,
And found barely a place to sit. “What joke
Is this?” he askt aloud. “This stony ground
Does poke me in my – ” “As you might have found,”
She’d interrupt, “this cave is undisplac’d
By anyone who’s come this way. No sound
Does echo through its halls. We may have fac’d
A dragon last time we were here, but bas’d
On such a time, I think us safe right here.”
He stampt a hoof, and heard it as it trac’d
The cave. No other sound would fault – he’d hear
It otherwise. He said, “It would appear
That you are right. But down where shall I lie?”
“I’ll answer that!” And with such a severe
Swing of her leg, she knoct aside the dry
Sharp stones, which made a clearing for th’ ally.
He rested on his belly, took some air,
And let it out ’n a rather silent sigh.
’Twas dark and cold, but not as cold as there
Outside – the wind would enter not. The pair
Were safe and sound, so far as they could tell,
Fro’ th’ elements. With that settl’d, the mare
Reclin’d as well beside her guide, and fell
Upon the harden’d ground. “We’d have to dwell
Here for some time,” she reckon’d. “On this pass,
The winds are ruthless; I have not a spell
T’ eliminate the threat.” Forsooth, alas,
As she’d articulate, a gust would mass
Outside the cavern, making exit quite
Impossible. The land could still harass
The pair, e’en as they shelter’d from its sight
In total darkness sans a blink of light.
The baker praid that this was all it’d do –
And furthermore, the Keeper of the Night
Watch the mouth o’ th’ cavern, so the two
Could well avoid some further danger. True,
She had the power and vim to shape the gale
Around them both – and yet, the princess blue
Had only so much magic – she might fail
And seal their fates. Even her starry tail
Would become ragged in the blast of sand,
As she found out at one point. Thus, the stale
Air of the cave would be their haven, and
There simply was no changing that. Unplann’d,
He broke the intervening silence. “Shall
We speak of even sough, or will this land
Curse us both if we do?” He spoke so small,
And yet his words were grander much than all
Equestria. So she would decree, “I say
There’s nothing that this land can do – no fall
So high, nor sandstorm blinding, can delay
Us for all time – so why not speak? The way
Is cut off, merely for the moment now.”
“I’ve told you of my time, and you’d display
To me the same. We know each other – how
Much more to tell? If only you’d allow
A lie – I could conjure a tale that’d knock
You back upon your tail; I would endow
You with fantastic tellings – ” “But such talk
Compar’s not to what’s happen’d on our walk.
So tell me – what more is there of you?” He
Had nary answer – not at first. He’d lock
His maw whilst he would think about what she
Would next hear. Finally, he gave up. “We
Would be most entertained if you told
Of yourself first,” he said to her. “You see,
My life is unremarkable, and old
As you are, you should have much more in fold.”
Said Luna, “Be that as it may, I’m sure
You’re still left some excitement – so be bold!
Speak more about your past! Perhaps our cure
Is hidden in your words.” “But on this tour
I’ve told you ev’rything – about my mark,
About my family, e’en about th’ allure –
Who was she? Sark’e! – who would never hark
The fact that I had married be such stark
Indication that I’d forsake my wife.
And then again I’d find her, little bark
And nary bite. Of course, you know that strife,
As I had told you earlier. Why, my life
Is unremarkable. What more should I
Say?” Luna sigh’d – at least her time was rife
With such adventure, e’en discounting why
She was here with him. “Whilst I pray the sky
Subside with its assault, I shall invoke
Another point within my living. Aye,
’Tis not one I’d’ve told before. I’ve spoke
It to my sister, true, but make no joke:
What I shall tell to you – ” And then she saw
The winds outside had died down. She would poke
The mouth behind her, feel the air sans flaw,
And know that ev’rything was still. Her jaw
Would jut down – when she notic’d, she would shut
It with a hoof. He, too, would hang his maw
At such a sight. “But still,” he told her, “what
Were you about to say?” And Luna’d strut
To th’ exit, but she turn’d around and spake,
“’Twas most embarassing. At a banquet
In a Hearths-Warming past, we had a drake
Invited over, as a gesture. He’d take
His time in coming over – when he did
Arrive, we somehow cover’d by mistake
The entire venue. Soon we all were rid
Of his presence – and they’d answer no bid
T’ return. A shame indeed – we bear alone
The blame.” The baker laught aloud, amid
Her words. “Such silliness fro’ th’ Lunar throne!
Of course, I envy not, but you have thrown
Such jollity – ” he could not end his phrase
Before he burst again in laugher. “You were prone
To clumsiness, both you and sister. Raise
The sky whilst you’re ahead!” “I take it praise,
Then?” “Yes indeed!” A moment longer, then
He’d catch his breath. “Though now, the solar rays
Do beckon me t’ approach and leave – and when
I do, and when I leave behind this den,
We’ll not stop – ever – ’til we reach the end.”
He stept, but something far beyond his ken
Would stop him in his place. “What sort of trend
Is this?” he askt aloud. “Could you please vend
A bit of magic?” Luna tried her horn –
And yet, no matter what, she’d never lend
A bit of help to her guide. “I’d not scorn
You quite so soon,” she said, “for I have sworn
Your safety for your guidance – yet it’d seem
We must part ways here. I shall not adorn
My words with sugarcane – this dual team
Must now become just one. The mountain’s scheme
Has chosen you, but not I, to stay here
For some cause unknown.” Luna’s tears would stream
From down her eyes, as she would realize, near
The top, they’d have to separate. “But fear
Not, Princess Mine!” he cried – and he would shove
The entrance – yet it never would appear
Even one iota out the way of
Him and effort his. Then he lookt above
And saw his cutie mark, engraved there
O’erhead the pend. It fit there like a glove.
He sigh’d. “This is the end for me, I dare
To say,” he said. “I do not mean to scare,
But you were right, the mountain’s chosen me
To stay. I pray that you’d not linger, stare
At me – what point is there, when I’m not free
Again? You think I’ve still a chance to flee?”
“Nay, not at all,” said Luna. “But I pray
That your return is too at hoof. Your glee,
Your guidance, and your loyalty, I say,
Are most valuable. I’d not give away
Such treasures quite so soon, but all the same – ”
He merely nodded. “Yes, and sans delay
You should take leave.” “But this delay’s no game,”
She answer’d. “Tell me, dear guide – have we came
This way entire to split apart so close
To th’ end? I cannot free you – such a shame –
But tell me more of you, whilst such a dose
Of that nostalgia strik’s you. You’d engross
Me with your ev’ry word, as much as I
Would do to you, as you say. These cosmos
Are never always fair, this is no lie;
I’ll miss you terribly, as true as th’ sky
Above so blue and bright. I’ll know I’d fail
In setting forth upon this quest – so nigh
We came as well!” She could not see through th’ veil
Of tears that clouded up her eyes. She’d ail
With melancholy so severe, she’d keep
Her place before the cave. No sand so stale
Could make her cry like this, nor lack of sleep
Produce results – for she was far too deep
Within the friendship. “Look to th’ brighter side,”
He said. “Without me, you could fly and leap
About without a thought about me. Pride
Yourself upon your wings – the feather’d ride
Could take you to the peak, and even more,
If you had magic quite enough inside
To teleport your way there, then this chore
Of yours is nought!” These thoughts, just as before,
Would tempt the princess – yet each time she’d use
Those things, it gave her drawbacks that she’d swore
She never had. “Much as I’d like, I’ll refuse
All th’ same,” she told him. “You have seen the clues
About th’ effects upon my form. My wings
Grant flight, and swift at that, but I’d abuse
The feathers with the sand, ’mong other things.
So flight is right out, I would think. – Which brings
Me to my magic – O my head does pound
To think about its use! The magic springs
Quite little nowadays, and I have found
It gives me quite a headache. E’en the ground
Within the cave, to light it, gave some pain.
And teleporting, like you said, is bound
To use far more than simple light.” Her mane
Had lost its shimmer, and deflated – slain
By grief and sadness. “Have you more to say?
I should leave rather soon, before the strain
Of time becomes too much.” “If you’ll delay
A moment more, I’ve one request. The day
Shall come when you return, but know my son
And wife have ought to know the truth, so they
Can eas’ly rest, to know that I had fun
With you I’ th’ afterlife. Th’ eternal sun
Might shine down on them, but not me – for this
Cave does protect against what’d make them run.”
“That much I’ll do,” said Luna. “I shall miss
You dearly, friend, and know that you brought bliss
To desp’rate I. Fair winds, Honeycomb Splat.”
She turn’d to leave, without a thing amiss
About affairs or scene. He did not chat
To her at all – behind, her words begat
The action of the wall – it mov’d to seal
The baker deep within. She breath’d out – that
Would be the last she’d hear from him. She’d squeal
In further sadness, as the tears would steal
Her sight away from her own use again.
“Perhaps,” she said t’ herself, “I soon would heal
From all this unimaginable pain.
I never thought that fate would make the lane
Be wide enough for only one of us.
I hop’d we’d walk it side by side – my mane
Now takes up both my sides. O what a fuss
It will be, to get all the grains and plus
From out its strands. But that does not compare
To how I still regret to leave my guide – and thus,
I’ll leave it as it were.” She did not dare
To speak aloud – what point, she’d ask, was there?
She was alone, with not a soul to hear
Her words. And then, a shock – the hotter air
Of such a height still burn’d her hide. So near
She was to th’ top, and too, the sun, she’d fear
She would combust before she would arrive.
To her relief, the shade-side soon was here
To help her cool. Although she’d rightly strive
To reach the top, it did help t’ stay alive
And get her thoughts right. Now, and for all time,
She’d walk this lane alone. She would revive
As well, that much she knew, but then that rhyme
Would not extend to him. “’Twould be a crime
Not to vouch for him, to what powers may be.
I’ll get you back, guide – just you wait! My prime
Is still now – ” Once she let the heat vent, she
Would stand and start her quest again, to see
Its end, that oh-so-tantalizing end.
The shade would end, and would feel its spree
Leave her hide, with the sun and heat to rend
It freshly cooked. O you cursed bend,
She thought – we meet again. Of course, the path
Would narrow as I reach the top – I’ll wend
Around the place, as I before – your wrath
Means less than nothing to me. Th’ aftermath
Of heat and light of yours has no effect
Upon me – do you hear? And still, its bath
Continu’d on. She thought: what if I chect
My wings? What if, therefore, they could reject
The heat with flapping, like a feather’d fan?
And from beneath her cloak, she would erect
Her massive pair of wings, with such a span
As to protect her fro’ th’ sun. She began
To wave them near her, not so she’d take flight,
But just enough to dispel, rather than
Attract, more heat. It worked with its might,
So she thought, maybe, if the solar light
Did not bear down too much, then she could fly
Up to the top. Perhaps her shorter sight
Prevented her from earlier seeing why
Not. She then took a tentative flap, by
An outcrop on the path, and with some air
Drawn in her lungs, she took off to the sky.
It all went well for quite some time, but there
She notic’d something painful – why, the mare
Was burning up, far faster than before!
She could not flap enough to cool – a prayer,
Which did not work, and she would fall once more
Onto the ground. And when she stood, the chore
Of climbing suffer’d quite a setback too!
She fell much further down than she did soar!
Of all th’ ways she’d remark, just one came through –
That mountain peak was cursed – this she knew!
It striv’d to keep her down upon the ground,
No matter what. And thus, she felt so blue,
Blue as her fur upon her hide. She found
It hopeless – not a chance for her t’ be bound
To th’ sky above, not when th’ eternal sun
Within this land shone down. Yet she was sound
Inside her mind – despite the setbacks won
By curses, from th’ amount of water – none –
To losing such a trusted guide to th’ cliff,
She’d persevere though ev’ry manner, one
And all, of hardship. This could well work, if
She’d not delay in thinking. Rather stiff
Her legs would grow – such as now, soon she saw.
But then she thought about what such a whiff
Of harmony might do. The mountain’s law
Would call forth anyone who oversaw
Its rules. Perhaps Honeycomb was so pure
With loyalty, that he would call its draw.
But what possess ponies to the lure?
The possibilities, she’d reassure
Herself, might not be even worth the thought.
She’d have to concentrate upon secure
Pathways onto the top. Thus, she would not
Find shortcuts anymore – the last had wrought
The fury of the mountain, she could tell.
The hard way was the only way – she ought
T’ respect that fact, no matter what. She fell
Two times before, when she did not foretell
The consequences of her actions, so
She did resolve herself t’ obey its spell.
And whilst she would ascend, she might bestow
An answer to some other thing. She’d slow
Her pace, so deep in thought, so she’d have time
To consider each point that she would know.
The baker – yes, of course; she knew his rhyme,
The one he told her long before; what crime
It’d be to let it be forgotten soon.
She knew him, from his words, about his prime
In life, when Sark’e would pursue him. Moon
And sun to moon again, her courage hewn
From desperation, never once to see
His wife – until the very end. The loon
Was soon ejected from the place, for she
Was quite unwelcome anymore, and free
He was again, from out her changeling grip.
They soon would bear a new colt – or was he
Born ’fore the changeling came? He’d skip
Some details, sure, but something like that’d tip
Her off about a thing, but she’d not press
The minor issue – as the heat would strip
Her of her train of thought. It did impress
Her, to admit in frank, how much it’d ‘bless’
Her with a lack of thinking. She’d ask, “Why?”
But knew the answer true – the solar stress
Would take its toll on anyone who’d try
To navigate its heat. Within the sky
That gilded orb beyond Celestia’s hold
Would taunt her to no end. She’d die,
But then, she knew that happen’d. In that cold
Sleep called death, she wonder’d if her old
Corpse had since rotted away in the court.
Why, she could hear the bells as they all toll’d
Away her passing – nay! Abandon th’ sort
Of thinking! Still, would she rise in the fort,
Or be regenerated in the womb?
So many questions she could ask, but short
A pony that could answer any – whom
Would know? And furthermore, about her tomb –
If she would not revive her body, then
Would she be buried ’neath the central room,
Or even outside – in a grassy glen,
Or – sky above forbid – a swampy fen?
Perhaps she could find some solution to
These problems, and so many more – but when?
Upon a whim, she felt the wall accrue
Its sand upon a wing – which she would view
As fruitless, nary clue here to be seen.
At least the coming shade would let her stew
In coolness relative. Within the scene,
She would consider – maybe flight unseen
By that eternal sun would pave the way
Onto the mountain top. It was quite mean,
Its curse, but if it did not know to slay
Her efforts, why not try at all? The day
Was young, and never growing old at all,
But she was one to try. She would display
Her dusty wings from out beneath her shawl,
And thrust herself into the air. The call
Of rushing wind past by her flatten’d ears.
Some progress seem’d apparent – then the fall
Would set in, as she realiz’d that her fears
Were conjur’d. She would hit the ground – the tears
Were flowing freely, both from the defeat
And pain resulting. There were nary cheers
Within this cursed land, were there? How sweet
Her victory would be, if she could beat
Its cliffside pathway predetermined!
At least, she thought, I do not need repeat
The winding path that I before have tread;
I’ll just resume my previous walk instead.
She pict herself up, then she shook the dust
From out her fur, and took a step ahead.
The shady side would dissipate, and just
Like that, the sun would burn her, as it must.
But she’d ignore the pain, her mind train’d on
The actions of before. She plac’d her trust
Upon a baker – just a simple pawn
To other royals, yet to her, the dawn
Shone not as bright without her trusty guide.
But that would never last, and they anon
Would part without a warning. She inside
Would grieve the sudden loss, but she applied
A hint of rationality to th’ cost.
Perhaps his destiny was not the tide
Of life back in Equestria, merely lost
To th’ Stygian barrier. She would not accost
The Fates if such was truly meant to be –
Like any other pony, she’d not crost
Their tempers. Maybe if the two were three
At some point – Sister should forbid – then she
Would have some company. Alas, the thought
Was folly mere, and not one she should see.
Upon a whim, she peered o’er where nought
Would meet the trail, and saw the fall, all fraught
With mystery and danger. She would shake
Her head, return to th’ journey, ’fore she caught
Herself in yet another fall-mistake;
Besides, how much more could the princess take?
Three times she fell, one by an error true,
The other two by her misjudgment. Make
Me suffer all you wish, she thought, but you
Will not break me. My mettle did accrue
The strength to overpower whatever may
Come down upon me. This I know be true!
So she’d assure herself, but then, the day
Eternal had some other tricks that they
Had never seen yet – namely, that her stride
Might not go anywhere where heat would stay.
And as a result, Luna had to bide
Her stepping, making sure that she had tried
Not to approach a hotspot. Yet by chance
She’d set her hoof upon it – and her hide
Had burned not as much. Just a mere glance
Upon her frog would send the burning lance
Up through her leg. And then would come the shade,
The shade that could not come in time. She’d prance
And lie down there, to let the heat degrade.
But then she saw in front of her, she made
Her way so far above the ground, the dark
Behind the mountain grew too short. She staid
For just a moment more, then she would hark
Its warning, make her way into the stark
Light of the day. Again her hoov’s would burn,
But now she knew to step with care. No spark
Would find her frog, no matter how it’d yearn
For her pain. Luna made sure it would learn
Of her fight – fight against the elements.
She’d step upon the ground, and made it spurn
Its purpose of its heat – which grew intense
Upon her back as well. Her cloak so dense
Could keep out sand that drifted in the wind,
But greater heat came as the cost. The sense
That this gave her did not work, as air thinn’d
The higher up she went. She would rescind
The cloak at some point – but she’d not let go
Of it. If she were not so disciplin’d,
It would be gone so very long ago.
But making them at first took magic, so
She was not keen on doing that again,
Lest she would have within her head the throe
It had when she would light her horn. That pain
Was quite enough to stop her. She’d sustain
Her strength for just a moment, then the ache
Would set in, shutting off the magic’s strain.
No sense in teleporting – such mistake
Would havoc wreak on her, so she would take
The long way up. Besides, she could not fly
Up there – the curse had forced her to make
Her way by hoof. And here, the sunny sky
Would light the way upon the trail so high.
This was the way; no matter how she tried
To find a shortcut, she would need comply.