Charlie remembered what it was like to be young.
His family hadn't exactly been a stable thing. His dad always wanted to give him the best, but wanting that and actually being able to deliver it were two different things. He never knew his mother, and the same woman never remained in his life long enough to start thinking of anyone in that role.
It was probably only right that she should be facing that same thing now, beyond the threshold of impossibility in a world that didn't make sense.
She probably could've lived with some strange new things. Derek could've brought them to a magical land of adventure and danger, and she would probably adapt to it quickly enough. Maybe even forgive her friend, since of course it would never be her fault.
But strangeness in the world outside would always be infinitely easier to cope with than the ones that threatened and stole her own facilities. Derek's mistake hadn't just stolen his life, his girlfriend, or his future. Derek had stolen Charlie's self.
She stumbled along behind a stranger, a towering male with wings that were individually wider and longer than her entire body. She followed along in a city with doorknobs that were out of reach, walking on all fours and feeling as though she were parading naked through the streets.
Well in that last case, it wasn't just a feeling. Charlie was naked. But if she wasn't going to have the clothes she wanted, she didn't exactly see the point of trying at all. This place could keep her hostage, it could pretend she was young and small and weak. But it wouldn't have her obedience.
"I think you'll like where we live," said the horse ahead of her. Charlie hurried to catch up, and nearly fell over on the uneven cobblestone.
When she started to wobble, wings extended from both sides. It was both an entirely familiar sensation, like stretching out her arms... and also utterly foreign to her. Feathers were not hair. Each one was alive somehow, with its own array of rich sensors. She could feel with each and every one, from the little tufts of down near her torso, to the long, thick feathers near her wingtips.
However different it was, extending both wings had a similar effect to opening her arms to keep her balance. She didn't fall over. Not that she would have, walking ahead on four legs.
All that, and Dust Storm barely seemed to notice anything was off about her. Maybe it was normal for things her size to barely know how to move.
"We live downtown, right in the middle of Willowbrook. There's lots of interesting ponies about, lots of parties and festivals and parades, and we're near all of them! Not to mention... well, you'll see. A little pegasus should love it."
Pegasus. That word was somehow meant to mean her, not an untamable Greek horse. It must've been satisfying to buck Bellerophon off her shoulders, rather than carrying him all the way into Olympus, to walk where no mortal should go.
She'd settle for kicking a few barrels though, if they happened to be nearby.
There were plenty, in dozens of shops along the road. Willowbrook was a city of roadside vendors in all shapes and sizes. Some sheltered under fabric canopies, with colorful banners behind them and detailed displays of their goods.
Others had old wooden tables, and simply shouted at Dusty as they went past.
He ignored all of them, until they reached a nearby building. It towered above all those around it. This was no elegant skyscraper of metal and glass, though—this structure was an engineer's nightmare.
It was half a dozen floors, but no two were the same size. It was more like sections of different building had been glued together. Or, more likely, it had been unevenly expanded by different owners over many years, until what was left resembled nothing any sane person should live in.
Dust Storm bent down beside her, pointing up with a wing. "See that balcony, all the way up there?"
She followed his gesture. Her eyes were surprisingly sharp, even at that distance. She could even make out the flaking white paint on the brass railing, and the still-open door leading inside.
"That's ours up there, Orange. Perfect place for a quick trip up or down from the street." He hesitated then, glancing backward at her wings. "Didn't Lovely Weather say you have trouble flying?"
She nodded weakly. "You could say that. I've never flown in my life. Never even thought I could. I'd have a hard time—" But the words wouldn't come. As soon as she felt the pressure against her head, she pulled away. It was like touching one fingertip against a hot doorknob—better just to back away and try somewhere else.
He tilted his head slightly to one side, staring. After a few seconds, she said nothing, and he eventually just shrugged. "Unfortunately, this isn't one of those fancy buildings back east. We don't have an elevator, thaumic or otherwise. That means you'll have to climb until you learn to fly."
You say, as though I were stuck here. She almost told him that, but caught herself short. She would be making a break for it soon, as soon as she knew where to run to. Maybe she should keep her mouth shut with things that could make him suspicious.
So she followed him silently to the front door. There was no lock, so they could walk straight in. Past two apartment doors was the staircase leading up, every bit as crooked and unsteady as the rest of the building.
"You go ahead and start climbing," Dust Storm said. "I'll see you at the top." He settled onto his haunches then, which was awkward enough in its own way that she instantly looked away.
But he didn’t seem to understand that instinct either. How hard was it to realize they needed to wear clothes?
He's serious, Charlie realized. He's not going to climb up with me. Learning to fly must be important to him.
She started up the stairs without complaint, at least not out loud. Inwardly she fumed. It wasn't right for him to demand that she do things he wouldn't do! Maybe she should turn back down the stairs and run as far away as she could.
Charlie wasn't afraid, she would've run. Except for one inconvenient truth: she didn't know anywhere to go.
So instead of running, she just set to her hike. There were no lights inside, just narrow windows, letting in just enough of a glow that she didn't trip on herself. This would be hella creepy in the dark.
And as soon as Dust Storm knows I feel that way, he'll probably make me climb it in the dark too. She sped up, practically tripping over herself as she went faster and faster. Of course, that wouldn't help her get away. Dust Storm would be at the top.
Charlie climbed for ages, until she came to a landing, and another little balcony extended out an open doorway. There were more steps, so she knew she couldn't be done just yet. But the balcony called to her.
She stepped out, and immediately the wind blasted up against her. Even a few stories up was enough that the breeze ruffled her feathers, carrying with it the scent of oak and distant forest. She was up high enough that she could see some of it too. Despite the fields leading away from the city to the north, the south was still thoroughly forested. Untamed, even. Ominous.
She propped her forelegs up against the railing, closing her eyes and spreading her wings. That last happened without any real intention—they just moved, as though she were going to take off and start flying.
She didn't, of course. But she could almost imagine it. That breeze made her feathers move on their own, and it felt good. Flying isn't so bad. There's plenty of shit to hate about this place, but it won't be this. Oh no, I have an amazing superpower! Whatever will I do?
Maybe she was wasting her time, and Derek would have them back to reality before she had a chance to do anything with her new powers.
Or maybe not. Maybe the same friend that got her banished here would have no magic bullet to get her home, and she would need to settle in.
If I wasn't so little, maybe I could live with this. If they send me back to school I'm going to strangle someone.
Then again, he hadn't done so well in school the first time. It was Derek who really lost something in that exchange. Maybe she'd do better the second time around.
Shut that thought right there. She settled down off the railing, closing her wings reluctantly. Funny how unsteadily they moved one moment, twitching and jerking when she tried to do anything with them.
But if she just let them do what they wanted, it was effortless. Just like that stupid tail. She focused on that too, swishing it back and forth. It was a bit like learning to fold her tongue—not terribly precise, or pleasant to focus on. But if she was banished here for long enough, she'd probably get it.
Finally she took another look up the building. A set of wings spread from the edge of the balcony there—Dust Storm had already flown to the top, waiting for her. She still had some climbing to do.
A few minutes later she finally clambered over the last uneven step, sweating profusely and panting up a storm. Her wings dragged along the ground behind her, but there was a stupid grin plastered on her face anyway. She'd made it.
"Good to see you again, Orange," said Dust Storm. He waited by one of the doors, as though he'd been standing there without a single backward glance for the last half hour. Maybe he had been. "How was the trip up?"
"Is that a... joke?" she finally managed, glowering at him. "That was horrible. No wonder nobody else wants to live up here."
He chuckled, nudging the door open. "They're missing out. It's one of the best places to live in Willowbrook. And not just because it's close to the clouds."
Curiously, this door wasn't like so many of the others. It had not one lock but two, set into a door of metal instead of wood like all the others. He produced a keyring from around his neck, and took the key in his mouth to do the actual opening.
It clicked loudly, echoing through the metal. The door began to slide slowly open—apparently the upper lock hadn't been set.
The interior was... better than she'd expected. A fairly spacious apartment, probably sprawling over the entire top floor instead of just one side. But that made sense, seeing as theirs was the only door up here. Past the unusually secure entrance was a living area of mixed floors and walls, as though it had been built with whatever scrap happened to be at hand.
The furniture was... numerous. Couches, chairs, tables—all arranged without much rhyme or reason. There were paintings too, but these were tilted, or clashing with everything around them.
All Dust Storm needed were some empty beer bottles and posters duct-taped to the wall, and she'd be confident in her discovery of the eternal bachelor.
"I hope you like it!" he said, actually grinning at her. He expected her to be impressed. "I've been collecting all this stuff, and this was one of the few places in Willowbrook with enough room for all of it. Don't worry, I've prepared somewhere for you.”
Her nose twitched as they passed through the overcrowded apartment. In some cases, she needed to climb over things, or at least squeeze over.
You couldn't have known I wouldn't know how to fly, right? This can't be another training course. Even if she could learn, animals like her couldn't be good flying in close quarters. She wasn't a hummingbird.
Maybe he's a hoarder?
Except Dust Storm didn't actually explain any of what they passed. He didn't have any stories for her, didn't volunteer why he'd stacked five different kitchen chairs in front of an empty bookshelf instead of a table.
Instead, his eyes were on her, like he was a space alien trying to impress her with his collection of wooden objects.
Space alien or not, he seemed to recognize that something was wrong. "Is it not enough? Whatever I need to acquire to make this a home good for a young pegasus, I will. Tell me what's missing."
Those eyes. He focused on her like a spotlight, so intense that her resolve melted.
She sighed. "C-can I just see my room?" She wasn't really expecting it to be any better. And in that, she wasn't disappointed.