Chapter 8 - School
Day One - New World
I am writing thiS in native Equestrian. Or as close as I can gEt with these fingers. These writing utensils work, and I will need the pRactice if I am to pass as one of whatever species I have become. It’s slow going, but on the positive side, only I cAn read it. Anyone else who finds it would see it as writing, but not a lanGuage they know. Hopefully there are enough languagEs in this world that no one wi— will question it.
Writing this way is hArd. But I have to try. I still cannot access my magic. I spent several houRs last night as the sun began to set trying. I can feel it. My magic is there. But I just can’t acceSs it for some reason. I—
Hopefully I can still read thIs later, despite my mistakes. The paper is old. I will write more carefully.
I’m calling this “day one.” Which would make the day I arrived “day zero.” I still don’t know where I am, what this planet iS called, or where everyone went. But at least I have shelteR. It was raining this morning when I woke up. It’s weird to see Rain cloudS without weather pegasi making sure everything is okay.
Still getting used to this body. ThIs morning I had to determine how to relieve myself. It wasn’t too hard to figure out, but it wasn’t fun either. At least the bathroom waS well Stocked.
Not that I could use it. I got a bucket from the store downstAirs and a bag of diRt. It’s gross, but I can put the bucket down in the shop and—cover it with dirt after taking care of my business. At least there’S plenty of dirt and buckets.
No running water, though. And no magic to make sure my hands are clean. I used some soap and some of my water and did the best I could.
I’m going through water faster than I thought I would. And I’ll need to find a way to clean myself. New clothes as well. There were some left here, but they don’t fit right. If I Am wearing them properly. But I’ve got a buffer. A few dayS, at least. Besides, I may be able to clean myself using the Rain water. It’s cold, but it should work. I’ve already set several buckets under the eaves to catch what I can. There are towels here.
Writing like this is getting—eAsier already. I don’t know whether to thank Starswirl or curse his name until his horn melts.
I did take a moment this morning to strip out of thEse clothes and get a look at my new body. It’s … weird. Definitely strange. Being bipedal is one thing, but the lack of a good coat of fur is strAnger. And my hind … paws? Feet? Feet sounds more accurate, if I’m honest. They have tiny fingers. Toes. For balance, I’m guessing, based on how they move when I stand.
It could be a lot worse, but it could be a lot better too. And there’s no sign of wings. No claws or fangs, either. At least, not like those creatures I found had.
So I’m, as near as I can guess, one of the species that built the city. Starswirl’s spell got that right.
Figuring out how to get dressed again almost made me want to stay nAked. But this body isn’t made for that. Without fur, I got cold quickly. Ugh.
I’m going to the school today. The one on my map. I have enough food and water for several days, though I am getting tired of nuts already.
But if I’m going to make any headway toward my destiny in this world, I need to know how to read its languages. A school should have educational materials, something designed for children that I can use. And though it is raining, the material my jacket is made of does seem to repel water, and it isn’t raining that hard. Anything I find I can fit in my backpack, I hope.
This would be a lot easier if I could figure out what’s blocking my magic.
* * *
Okay, Sunset thought as she moved down the street, cold wetness sliding down the back of her neck. I really should have thought about whether or not this jacket had a hood of some kind before I set out.
Still, it was too late to turn back now. Her mane was wet and soggy, hanging down around her shoulders in a damp, diminished curtain of dark red and gold. Turning back wouldn’t make it any drier. Nor would finding a cloak or some other implement to cover it with.
I should have checked the shop, she thought, scowling slightly. The coat was doing its job keeping her fairly warm, but with the top of her shirt growing damp beneath it, that warmth was slowly fading. Maybe looked for an umbrella. She couldn’t recall seeing one, but then again it hadn’t been an important item on her list.
The rain continued to come down on her. It wasn’t much, just a light drizzle, but over the last several dozen blocks, it had been more than enough to slowly weigh her down.
No turning back now. According to her map, she was only a few blocks away from the school. Assuming she hadn’t gotten lost along the way. Which is entirely possible, she thought, slowing and pulling the map out of her pocket.
That was one thing she liked about the coat. The pockets were most useful. And the map was coated in some sort of plastic, so it was waterproof. Or at least, resistant.
Let’s see … She looked back down the street she’d been following. I turned right there … and left there … She let one of her fingers slide over the map. And that was right here …
If I’m not lost, then the school should just be a few blocks … that way. Her head came up, looking down the street and to the left. Okay. Almost there.
Good. She folded the map back up and slipped it into her pocket. This place is genuinely creepy when it rains. A faint shiver crawled down her spine. Doesn’t help that this part of the city seems to have fared worse in whatever disaster and fighting befell this place.
Worse was almost an understatement. Already she’d had to turn aside several times, blocked by whole sections of the street that had caved in or collapsed. Buildings too, though in some cases it was less that they’d collapsed and more like they’d been destroyed. And then there were the posts …
Posts was the best name she could think of for them. Or maybe “checkpoint,” she thought as she continued up the street. Whole streets that had been blocked off by large cement barriers—how, she didn’t know—and large gates. Some of them had been left open. Others had been closed, forcing her to backtrack until she found a way around. And one … one had been destroyed, the gates smashed open, the defenders’ bodies still strewn around, little more than decayed bone and armor.
That had been the hardest one to pass, despite being completely open. She’d almost stopped and relieved another one of their weapons of its knife attachment, since she’d left hers at the shop. But with the rain and the cold, she’d simply passed on. She’d left it behind because she didn’t yet have a sheath for it. The hatchet currently strapped to her belt had a holster and a cover, so she didn’t have to worry about falling and cutting her palm open on it.
Besides, it was a little easier to use. Like a club. Sharp end toward what you need to cut. Much easier than a knife in her unfamiliar fingers.
The damage around her was getting worse as she drew closer to the school. Buildings had been gutted by fire, their insides torn apart. One had seen one of the carriages flung into it. Broken, sun-faded sandbags lay strewn in the street, scattered and torn. Marks of a battle long since over.
The slick of wetness over everything and the cold grey sky, however, made it feel far less ancient than it had the day before. Then, she’d felt as though she was disturbing old memorials.
Today it just felt like a graveyard.
Left, she thought as she reached the next intersection and made the turn. And cut it with the spooky thoughts. You’ve been to old battlefields before.
Just, you know, really old. Ancient. And this … Her eyes slid over another destroyed storefront. This is a lot more recent.
At least she was close. I should be able to see the school building after the next turn. In fact, that might even be part of it right there! After the nearest intersection, the buildings to her right gave way to a large, tall wall. Around the school grounds, maybe?
There was also another one of the checkpoints at the intersection, surrounded by more carriages.
A lot more.
Sunset slowed. Okay, I thought about this already. If it’s a big school, it’s natural that they’d want to use it as an evacuation point of some kind. And there are a lot of those carriages outside that gate. And, she noted, not all of them were sitting evenly. In fact, one of the strange craters that were everywhere was right in front of her.
She circled around it. It’s not too far from the edge of the city. Schools are big. They probably … They probably …
Sunset came to a stop, eyes fixed on the figure in front of her. What … is that?
It was larger than the thing she’d found in the Food Barn. Quite a bit larger. Even laying on the ground, the face of its skull down, the thing’s body, stretched out, was almost half again as long as she was tall. The bony hands were almost as large as her head, the tattered boots around its feet so big she could have easily stood in one pair.
I guess they get bigger still, she thought, frowning as she looked down at the hatchet. It seemed far smaller than it had when she’d strapped it in place that morning.
I’m just glad it’s dead. Still with the rain slipping down the thing’s bones it wasn’t hard to imagine it shifting and clicking together, getting back up to—
Focus! It’s just a corpse! And for all you know it’s an intelligent, gentle creature. Diamond dog skeletons look fearsome, and they can be scary, but they’re not monsters!
Still, it was hard not to shiver again as she passed by the outstretched, clawed hands and saw the hint of sharp teeth lined across the thing’s jaw. Maybe it was just the cold.
Maybe.
She continued forward, giving it a wide berth as she moved into the pack of carriages. It was slow going. Doors had been left open on many of them. Luggage had been scattered and left on the ground, the canvas wet and sun-faded.
And in more than a few cases, the occupants of the carriages themselves had fallen not too far away. They were attacked, Sunset thought as she saw the bones. There was a nervous feeling gnawing at her stomach now, like hunger but colder. She glanced down at another pair of bones, clad in a faded, half-rotted away set of clothing, damp with rain and clinging to every part of what was left.
Another day, in another world, perhaps, she would have been curious to see how the bones fit together. To guess at how they looked, or what their function was. Now she simply swallowed, another chill working its way past her shoulders.
How many didn’t make it? She changed directions again as in front of her two of the carriages converged, their bodies having arrowed into one another long ago.
This is going to take too long. The checkpoint wasn’t too far ahead now. It looked as though there had been a heavier, larger carriage partway through the gate which had suffered an attack of some kind. Maybe an explosion. Most of the rear wheels were a melted, broken mess of metal. That’s why the traffic piled up.
And made getting past the checkpoint a maze. She could see it in her mind. The people had panicked, started trying to shove their way through or out of their vehicles … There might not even be a route through this mess.
Fine then. I may not have magic to teleport past it, but I can still go over it. The nearest rear of one of the carriages was slick from the rain, but with a few careful checks to make she wasn’t about to lose her footing she was able to climb atop it, kneeling on the metal back, her palms resting on the rear window.
And … now my knees are wet, Sunset thought as she pushed herself up, one boot slipping slightly before catching again with a faint squeak. Great.
Hopefully the rain would let up and she’d be able to dry out her clothes. The last thing I want to do is try to go anywhere in this lousy body naked! It’s too exposed.
And if I could figure out how to use my magic maybe …
Except she’d never learned any spells related to clothing. Sunshades, rain shields, a few other utility spells. And that last one would come in really useful no—
Her foot went out from under her with a sharp, sudden squeak, and she dropped, twisting as she tried to get her arms out in time but still slamming down on her hindquarters atop the front of the carriage with a heavy, painful thud. She pushed herself up immediately—I really am getting the hang of this—but it was already too late. Not only did her rear—Or is it my midsection now? How does this species classify my butt?—hurt, but it was already going cold and wet.
This had better be worth it. Her foot threatened to slip again as she made her way down the next carriage’s sloped glass, and she shifted her weight forward, rolling with it and using the momentum to scale the back of the next vehicle it was pressed up against.
She was getting closer to the blocked checkpoint now. Well, not entirely blocked. The gate was wide enough on both sides that she’d be able to pass easily. And past it, around the walls she still couldn’t see over despite her position atop the carriages, she could see a titanic building that had to be the school.
It’s massive for a city of its size. I wonder if they taught all their students here? From across the whole city?
Even then, it almost looked bigger than she remembered the School for Gifted Unicorns being.
Though it’s kind of hard to tell, since I’m still not quite sure what my size was then compared to now. And since her saddlebags had changed with her … There’s no guarantee that anything in them stayed the same size either and didn’t become this world’s equivalent.
Even her sandwiches were suspect. And almost gone. Not that they’d tasted very good. Or been very filling past the bread. Still, it was likely the last bread she was going to get for a while.
She stepped over a shattered glass window, deliberately not looking inside. She didn’t want to see what had become of the occupants.
Almost there, Sunset. Just a few more carriages to go. So close to the gate a lot of them were showing more frequent signs of damage, though. Some had clearly been rammed into one another.
Two had a pile of cloth and bones pinned between them. She skipped around them, taking a circuitous route across several other carriages.
The wind picked up, and she slowed, catching her balance as the slick metal once again threatened her footing.
Whatever. I’m close enough now. She dropped off the front of the carriage she was on, bending her knees to keep her impact from being too jarring. At least I didn’t slip. Again. The stone roadway beneath her feet was muddy and wet, but uneven enough that her footing wasn’t too slippery.
Don’t step on any of those empty cylinders, Sunset thought, kicking a few of the strange hollow metal tubes out of her way. They were all over the ground around the gate, and as she stepped up into the gap, more of them littered the ground behind it.
Along with a few more bodies, these ones clad in armor. A few even had helmets on. Helmets with holes in them.
She stepped around each of them with care, the hollow pit in her stomach growing. This … might not be a good idea. These people died defending their own from whatever those … things … were. And you’re going to disturb their dead.
No. She shook her head, wet mane flipping around her face. A strand of it stuck to her cheek, wet and limp. You’re not disturbing them. You’re just passing by.
Still, she gave the bodies as wide a berth as she could as she moved past the large destroyed carriage, despite the part of her mind shouting loudly that there was no such thing as ghosts, and that the remains were just that: remains.
Still creepy, she thought as she worked her way past them and into the courtyard beyond the wall. Well, what had at one time been a courtyard. Now it was an old battlefield.
Once, it had clearly been a space for parents to drop off their students. There was a large, long parking area where carriages could be lined up. A large statue of some figure in the center of a road that let those carriages wrap around. An open space on either side of the building had been home to playground equipment and trees. The front of the school wasn’t nearly so ornate as the city administration building had been, but it was ornate enough. Or at least, had been.
Now it was an old battlefield. Barriers and sandbags had been erected all across the front steps and surrounding courtyard. A large carriage that was twice as long as the others she’d seen before had been burned, its blackened bones dominating a large segment of the courtyard. Bodies in blue armor were everywhere, as were more of the strange craters.
At least none of it was fresh. Most of the craters were full of small pools of muddy water from the rain, and grass had grown through most of the pavement beneath her feet. The front of the building was covered in more of the leafy green vines that were all over the city.
It made it look a little less like an old battlefield, but not by enough to take away the creeping sense of unease as she noted yet another body.
And something had utterly annihilated the gate at the other end of the street. Or whatever had been there. It was a gaping hole in the ground, the wall around it collapsed into so many piles of brick. The rear end of one of the large, long carriages stuck out of the hole and into the air, wheels far from the earth. It almost looked as though a giant had decided to make a strange sculpture out of it.
Almost. To her, it said something else. How did it end up like that? Did the ground drop out from beneath it? Surely whoever was in control of it wouldn’t have voluntarily guided it into the hole. And if something pulled it into the hole, would it have ended up with the back end stuck in the air like that?
More pieces to the puzzle. But there were a few theories starting to bubble inside her head.
But right now, I need to get inside that school, she thought, turning her gaze away from the upended carriage and toward the front of the massive, heavy-looking building. At least it won’t be hard. The front doors are wide op— Well, gone, actually. And even if they weren’t, the windows are all gone too. Well, save that one. Her eyes lingered on the one remaining bit of glass along the building’s front. The rest of the tall, vertical windows gaped open like missing teeth in a smile.
A boxer’s smile, Sunset thought as she made her way up the steps. One that’s taken a lot of hits. And probably not very good.
Bones littered the steps, along with what was left of armor and other equipment. Even weapons. Though she couldn’t help but note there were fewer of those than there were bodies.
But … that makes sense, she thought as she neared the front doors. In the middle of a fight, or even afterward, you’re going to want to gather what’s left. If you can. Picking over a battlefield was a time-honored tradition. So it makes sense I’m not seeing too many weapons here.
The ones she was seeing were a little confusing, however. Maybe there hadn’t been much time for whoever had won to comb over everything thoroughly?
“Or maybe they just didn’t care,” she said quietly. The Burning Lands had instances of that happening, where one army defeated another but took their equipment for scrap rather than use. It was possible that whoever had won here—and that looked quite a bit like the creatures—just hadn’t wanted what their foes left behind.
Then the front door was gaping before her like an open wound, a dark, ragged portal into the inside of the school. She chose her steps carefully as she moved inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness and taking her first look around.
It … wasn’t impressive. Years of neglect had taken their toll, as had the front doors being wide open. Or rather, gone. One of them was sitting on the floor in front of her, twisted and broken, dirt and water pooled in some of its crevices. The other had been torn from its frame and smashed into the wall, the glass broken out of it. A large impact of some kind, then, enough to shear it from its hinges.
There were a few bodies as well, strewn across the dirty tile floor. Little more than bones and armor, like their fellows outside. One was propped against the wall, a weapon still clutched in their hands.
They died defending the door. She took a few steps further inside. It was cold, and it was damp … but at least there wasn’t any rain falling down on her any longer.
A second set of doors directly ahead of her had been battered open as well, leading deeper into the school. She frowned.
Not very much light. But what about … She turned, glancing back at the entrance. Two sets of windows, a pair on either side of the door, looked back at her. But no more. So the other windows are to other rooms.
Well, at least they were an option if something further ahead blocked her path.
“All right, Sunset.” She slipped a hand into one of her pockets, pulling out one of the flashlights she’d found. There were two more in her pack, just in case whatever provided the power to the light ran dry. I need to open one of them up and see what the insides look like, but … Another time.
Still, the light was new, and its bright beam poked back into the dark depths of the school, illuminating the hallway beyond the second set of doors. It was … surprisingly droll. Almost disappointingly so.
Is this place just dirty? she wondered as she moved forward, plying her light over row after row of lockers. Or was it this drab and dull before it was a ruin?
Grey lockers. Plain tiled floors. Brown walls. A far cry from the bright, warm golds of Canterlot.
How … bland. She moved past the second set of doors, slowly plying the light over her surroundings. She was at an intersection, one that split to move down three identical hallways. I hope their classrooms were more interesting than this.
Three directions lay before her, but one was the most obvious. The path straight ahead was littered with debris and detritus. Her light played across papers and more discarded bags, as well as hundreds of the small metal cylinders left behind in the wake of the weapons.
There were stains on the floor too, old and rust-colored. Dried blood.
She glanced at the hallways to either side, but then shook her head. It would be best to see what had become of those that had retreated into the building.
Her footsteps echoed lightly on the tiles, bouncing off of the metal lockers and back at her. From somewhere she could hear water dripping down from above, hitting somewhere nearby with a faint, constant plink. Here and there she passed closed doors on both sides. Classrooms. She could check them later. Ahead of her the hallway diverged once more, stairs breaking off to her left and her right. One set went up, the other down. The light from her flashlight glimmered off of something reflective: The source of the dripping she’d been hearing. Water trickled down from somewhere above, pooling in a shallow slick across the top of the steps before running down deeper into the depths of the school.
She paused and shone the light down after them. The steps ended some distance below her, amid a stagnant pool of dirty looking water that filled the entirety of the lower level.
Sunset glanced at her boots. I should see if these are waterproof, and to how deep. Some other time. There was no way she was heading down the steps into the absolute dark all on her own.
It’s dark enough up here. And at least here my feet are dry. Even if a lot of her wasn’t.
And stagnant water like that could hold disease. Plus make a lot of noise.
She moved on, following the path of debris deeper into the school until she reached the next intersection and, from the look of it, her destination. T\wo identical hallways that split off to either side of her, but she ignored them, instead stepping up to a pair of heavy metal doors lying askew straight ahead, the beam of her flashlight sliding over over the gap between them and into the open space beyond.
Her stomach lurched. Corpses. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. Even now she could still smell the faint musty odor of so much death.
There had been barricades, but something had battered them aside. Forced the doors. Into what was clearly a gymnasium. Beams of dull light from small windows high along the walls mixed the one from her flashlight, illuminating rows of bleachers, a wooden floor …
And bodies. Bodies that had long since mostly given way to the march of time, but bodies all the same.
So, so many of them.
Sunset staggered back, yanking the light away as her stomach heaved. Away from the rows of cots, from the flashes of bright color that had been someone’s clothes, away from the—
The halls echoed with the sounds of her retching as she vomited up what was left of her breakfast, a salty, burning slurry that splattered against the tiles and over her boots.
They died. None of them made it.
This isn’t a school. It’s a mass grave. An involuntary mausoleum.
She slumped back against the wall, gasping for breath and wiping at her lips with the back of her hand. The smell of her bile mixed with the musty stink of so much death, and she felt her stomach lurch again.
It didn’t matter. There wasn’t anything left for it to give anyway. It could clench all it wanted.
Gradually, slowly, she got her breathing under control. It happened a long time ago, Sunset. In and out. A long time ago. No different than any history you read about in a book.
Except more vivid. More real, now that she was standing next to a mass grave of bodies. Gut-wrenchingly real.
Part of her wanted to just reach out and pull the doors closed. Forever. To seal their grave away and never disturb it again.
But she’d seen the cots. Cots meant that they’d been planning to be there for some time if needed. Which meant that there had to be supplies of some kind. Assuming they hadn’t run out. Or been taken.
She turned, lifting her light toward the door once more, and hesitated.
You have water. You have some food. Whatever supplies they have in there, you don’t need them right now. You can just come back later.
Except she likely never would. She already knew that, not that she wanted to admit it. The gym was a grave. One almost fresh. They deserved to be left alone.
But … Practicality won out. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the edge of the doors and looked over the massacre once more.
Bodies. Cots. Bodies. Dried blood. Armor. Bent, battered weapons. Bones and limbs that had been scattered far from any recognizable source.
Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed it back down and took a few steps in. Come on, come on. If there were supplies, they’d probably be in a central location, in boxes like at the shop, wooden crates, or maybe even those blue-tinged sealed metal boxes like the ones the soldiers had kept their bullets in.
Nothing. She ran her light over the rest of the gym looking for any sign of— There!
A wooden pallet, occupied by what was left of a few shredded and scattered cardboard boxes. Whatever had been in them had been crushed or exposed to the air long ago.
Nothing. She turned and moved out of the gym, back to the doors. Then, she grabbed one of them with her free hand and pulled it closed. It let out a loud metal squeak that echoed through the empty halls of the school. Its sibling let out an answering shriek a moment later as she pulled it closed as well. Or at least, as close to together as the battered metal doors could be.
Still, it would have to do. Not a fitting tomb. But … as good as she could manage.
She paused for a moment and pulled out her canteen, washing her mouth out and spitting over the floor. She took a moment to wipe off her pant legs as well: the bile would only stink if she left it. Maybe the rain would wash it off later but … she didn’t want to search the school with the scent following her any more than it already was.
She took a moment to clear some of it out of her mane too, grimacing. Yuck. The water spilled across the tiles beneath her boots.
Yesterday you were living it high in Canterlot, she thought as she swished her mouth out again. Now … you’re cleaning your own vomit out of your mane, spitting on the floor, and trapped in an alien body.
So much for destiny.
Then again, a lot of greatness was preceded by trial. And this should definitely count. She took a sip from her canteen, her stomach unclenching slightly as she gave it something to work with, then put the canteen back into her pack.
So, we know what happened to the people who were left here. So … back to work.
She headed back down the way she’d come, away from the stink of death that still lingered at that gym and back toward the front of the building. I need classrooms. Not ones open to the environment. So maybe …
There was a door nearby, and she tried it. Locked. And heavy. Nothing her hatchet could get past either. Even the glass window in the middle of the door was reinforced with thick, heavy wire. The door’s opposite across the hall was locked as well.
On the one hoof, that meant they were likely untouched since however long ago. But without a set of keys.
Maybe if I could find an office, Sunset thought as she moved further back down the hall, checking each door as she went. Each one of them was locked. Or keys.
Even a janitorial closet would likely do. Someone had to get into each one of the rooms to clean them. Or at least, had at one point needed to. But they would have needed keys for that.
Which left her poking around in the dark, checking each—
A handle gave under her hand with a faint clack and she froze in surprise. Well … that was unexpected. She eased the door open, poking her flashlight in ahead of her.
Revealing … a classroom. One somewhat lit by covered windows along the back wall, and fairly ordinary. If a little bland. But then, that fit with what she’d seen so far.
Chairs, desks for students, chalkboard. A projector. So many items looked similar to those from her home.
One wall caught her focus, however. It was a bookshelf. Full.
She moved over to it but quickly slowed. They were thick books. Large and heavy. Not something that could help her learn the language. Unless one was a dictionary.
No, she thought, opening one of them and flipping through the pages. That’s not what this is. What is was, she couldn’t say. But it didn’t appear to be anything that could help her. There was nothing familiar within its pages. Just walls of text that she couldn’t read.
She picked another, from a different shelf. More text.
It wasn’t until the bottom shelf that she found something useful. This looks like a dictionary! The cover was blank save for a few lines of unreadable text, but the pages inside the book were familiar and recognizable, even if the text wasn’t. Words arranged in columns, bolded, with copies of themselves broken apart next to them followed by a short line or two.
If it’s not a dictionary, it’s close enough that it might be useful anyway, Sunset thought, sliding the book into her backpack. It was a fairly dense tome, but the weight wasn’t too bad once it was back on her shoulders. And she’d spent most of the prior day with several other books packed in it anyway.
Well, that’s one thing useful, she thought, playing the beam of her flashlight over the rest of the room. So let’s see what else we can find? A few cabinets revealed their contents to be school supplies for teaching and learning: reams of paper, sealed in plastic, pencils, more of the ink-filled writing utensils … but nothing useful to her current search.
What I need is a classroom for younger students. Sunset moved over to the teacher’s desk and began rummaging through its drawers, checking for anything useful. Children. That would be where books teaching language basics would be.
The bottom drawer yielded a result, a metallic skittering sound as she pulled it open. A large ring of metal keys glimmered under her flashlight, scattered amidst random bric-a-brac and papers.
“Spare keys,” Sunset whispered, the sound carrying through the room. “Perfect.” There were at least two-dozen of them on the ring. It was a lot of keys to try.
But if it gets me in a few of those other doors … She slipped the keys into her pocket, where they pressed against her side like a pointy metal ball.
And … that’s it, she thought, sliding the beam from her flashlight across the room for a second time. Not much else here except …
She walked over to the windows and pulled back the corner of one of the blinds, spilling a little bit more light into the room. Not much, however. The outside of the window was mostly covered by more of those climbing, leafy vines she’d seen everywhere else. Still, they let a little light in, and through the gaps she could make out a small courtyard playground. The faint tap-tap of rain hitting the metal surface of a merry-go-round was only faintly audible through the glass.
Those are foals’ toys. Or childrens’, I guess. Her eyes paused on a small, brightly colored pony-like creature attached to a giant spring. Weird. But they wouldn’t want children to walk far, would they? Which means that their classroom was probably near.
She moved to another window, checking for a different angle. If there’s a door to the courtyard somewhere, then … There! Several doors lead out into the courtyard … from almost exactly across from her current position.
Okay Sunset … she thought as she let the blinds drop. That looks like a good bet.
Now how do I get there? I entered this room through that door there, which was on that side of the hallway … She stood for a moment ruminating, working out where she was in relation to the front of the building and the courtyard across from her.
So that courtyard would have been to my left when I entered. Okay. So to get there, I can try the stairs outside the door, or head back toward the gym and try the hallway there … She shivered. Or not. I can go back to the front of the building and try the hall there.
It did have a better chance of leading her in the right direction. The stairs outside the door, for all she knew, didn’t connect with the other side of the building. Though … She peered out of the window once more. It did look as though the courtyard was surrounded on all sides by at least two levels of building on all sides.
So the stairs might connect. It would make sense for them to do so. And it would be shorter than walking back to the front of the building.
Okay, upper level it is. Go up, go around, back down, and see if those keys will let me into the classrooms for the foals.
Satisfied with her plan, she turned and made her way back through the rows of desks, the flashlight sending strange shadows across the front of the room.
And quickly, she added, another chill running down her clammy skin. This is just … creepy. Even without what I saw in the gym.
Plus, even though she was out of the rain she was still cold. Her wet clothing wasn’t going to dry anytime soon, and her wet underthings were riding up slightly.
Stupid body, Sunset thought as she left the room behind and continued down the hall toward the stairs. And its dumb lack of easy magic access.
She slowed for a moment, reaching inside herself at her well of magic and willing it to come out. Like before, she could feel it. And, just as before, she could feel it slip away from her grasp, like water that refused to be shaped.
It was there. She just couldn’t figure out how her new form accessed it.
Her huff of indignation slid down the hallway. Stupid body. What was Starswirl thinking?
Then again, he’d probably never come to whatever world she was now in. It was just like the overconfident oaf of a mage to build something as fantastical as the mirror and then never think about the greater ramifications. He’d been a marvel of magical theory, but as far as anything else went?
He was a crass, ego-inflated narcissist, Sunset thought as she reached the stairs. She paused for a moment, playing her beam over the path upward. There was more light on the second level, so that probably meant more windows. The steps themselves stopped halfway to the top for a short landing before continuing the rest of the way and wrapping around what looked like a large balcony, one that probably headed back toward a hall like the one she was in now. Just a smart one.
Well, here we go. She put her boot on the first step.
A loud metal clang echoed through the halls, and she froze, her eyes darting down to the steps beneath her feet.
Nothing. Whatever had made the sound, it hadn’t been her.
The clang echoed again, bouncing down the hall at her, echoing off of the metal lockers. Behind it came a metal-on-metal screech, and another, louder bang, as if someone had dropped something on the tile floor.
It was coming from the direction of the gym. Her fingers fumbled at the flashlight, killing it’s beam with a soft click as she found the button. Darkness fell across the stairwell.
The sound echoed again, this time a shorter, metallic crash, followed by another scrape.
It’s not the grave it’s not the grave it’s not the— She shook her head. Probably just a wild animal or something, right?
Right?
There was another sound too, so faint she could barely hear it. A snuffling sound? Was something breathing?
Ghosts wouldn’t breathe, she thought, then grimaced. And there’s no such thing as ghosts.
In Equestria. Who knows what this place might have? Equestria had hydras, and chimeras, and timber wolves, and there had once been windigos, which were kind of like a ghost, and …
She was moving up the stairs in the dim light, her boots thumping against the steps as she raced upward. From down the hall, there came a screech—not of metal being scraped over metal, but of something living. Something alive.
It sent shivers crawling down her back, some ancient, primal part of her reacting to the keening cry. It was a hunter. A predator. The cry of a creature that had found prey.
She didn’t stumble once as she raced up the steps, flinging herself around the corner of the balcony railing at the top and crouching behind the post, her heart pounding.
Not hard enough that she couldn’t hear the faint skitter of something making its way through the halls, scratching against the tile, followed by a faint, hissing breath.
Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
And I ran right up the stairs like an idiot. The faint skittering sound stopped, followed by another rasping breath. A loud, heavy idiot!
The skittering resumed, mixed now with a faint, rhythmic plodding sound. Whatever it was, it was moving on four legs rather than two. And with a strange gait as well.
But it was getting louder. And closer.
Okay, think. I ran up the stairs. Whatever it was probably heard me. If it’s smart, it’ll know that’s where I went. But if it’s not …
Very slowly, she pulled her pack from her back and unzipped one of the pouches. Her fingers met cool, slightly damp metal. One of her spare flashlights.
The skittering was getting closer. Slowly, she slid the pack back onto her back and rose, looking down the steps. The light was dim, but she could faintly make out the intersection below. She pulled her arm back …
And paused. What if the flashlight smells like me? It could lead whatever it is right to me.
She lowered her arm, then took several slow, quiet steps back, sinking into the shadow beneath the dim, overgrown windows at the back of the balcony.
The rhythmic sound was closer now, mixed with a hiss-like, raspy breathing sound. The strangeness of the gait was just wrong, like whatever was making the sound was bearing misshapen limbs.
Then with a lurching leap, it landed in the middle of the intersection, and Sunset’s breath caught in her throat.
She couldn’t quite make out any details of it, but whatever it was, it was slightly bipedal. Hunched, resting on its forelimbs almost like a diamond dog. The body was bulky, almost comically so compared to its thin arms and legs. Its head twisted this way and that, a faint, wet hiss echoing up the stairwell as it sniffed.
Then with a grunt that made her whole body tense, it jumped further down the hall, the odd rhythm to the sound of its steps obvious as it slapped its front limbs against the tiles slightly out of sync with one another.
Then it was out of sight, the sound of its passage echoing as it headed toward the front of the school.
Sunset stayed still, holding her breath until she felt like she would burst, and the sound of the thing’s movement had almost completely faded. What … was that?
One thing was clear: It wasn’t a member of whatever species she currently was. Which could mean that—
It could be one of those things that did this to this place, she thought, carefully pushing herself up as the sound of the creature’s passage faded. Or a wild animal.
Either way, it hadn’t sounded friendly. Or looked it, even from the vague shape she’d seen.
And now it’s between me and the front door. Great. At least she’d be able to hear it coming. The sound of its steps had been fairly distinct.
But she couldn’t head for the exit now. Carefully, slowly, she made her way down the balcony, waiting until she was around the corner and away from the stairs to light her flashlight once more.
Not that she entirely needed it. The upper level was better lit, small windows along the upper walls of the hall letting in a small bit of light. But the faint beam of the flashlight was, in its own way, reassuring.
Better yet, her prediction seemed to have been correct. The upstairs halls were a mirror of those below. She turned left, away from the front of the building, walking slowly and carefully to make as little noise as possible.
It seemed to take forever to reach the next intersection, the one that would have led to the gym had she been a level down, and take another left, wrapping around the back end of the building and, if her mental map was accurate, the courtyard.
Find the foals’ classrooms, get a few books to get me started, then get out.
Except now that there was something dangerous moving around the front of the building, she wasn’t quite sure how to do that. There have to be other exits, she thought as she reached the next intersection. Somewhere. Those front doors were wide, but not wide enough.
Problem was, without a map or any sense of the local language, she had no way to tell which direction any of those exits would be in. There were signs on the doors, even signs here and there around the halls, simple plastic things with text printed on them.
But I can’t read a single one, Sunset thought. So they’re pretty much useless.
The beam of her flashlight glimmered off of another set of balcony rails, and she felt a faint flutter of satisfaction rise out of the nervousness in her gut. Stairs. At least she’d been right in her guess about the layout.
She shut her flashlight off as she neared the top, then slowed and listened.
Nothing. No faint, raspy breathing. No mismatched patter of movement.
Wherever that thing was, it hopefully wasn’t nearby.
Still, she left the light off as she made her way down the steps, placing each boot with care in the dim light from the windows. As soon as she’d reached the ground floor, she moved for the nearest door on the side of the hall, stepping into its shallow alcove and trying the handle.
It didn’t give. Locked. Her hand slipped to her pocket, pulling the keys she’d found out with a faint jingle.
The sound made her freeze, if only for a moment. Had that thing heard it? But there was no answering cry.
She went back to work, picking a key at random and sliding it into the lock.
Nothing. It was as immoble as the doorhandle.
One down … two dozen to go. She slipped the next key into the lock, twisted it as well. It was as stiff as the first.
Out it came, and in went the next. And the next. And the one after that. Soon half the key ring was gone, and not one of the keys had worked.
Then she heard it. A faint pattering sound, irregular, but growing louder. The thing was coming in her direction.
Storms! She slipped the next key in, jiggling it harder and making a face when it was as immobile as the others. Come on!
She pulled it out as the sounds of the creature’s movement drew closer, shoved the next key in. Still the lock refused to turn. She pulled it out—and her fingers slipped, the key ring dropping to the ground with a faint cascade of metal pings.
The pattering stopped almost as suddenly as her heart. She didn’t dare move. A faint, keening whine echoed through the halls, and then the sound of its steps resumed once more.
Just quicker. More direct.
It had heard.
She scooped the keys up as quickly as she could, glancing down at the tangle of keys and then picking one at random to shove into the lock.
Come on … Another key. Come on! Yet another. Come on! The pattering was growing closer …
The key gave, twisting with a click beneath her hands, followed by the handle, and she jerked the door open, smacking her side, shoulder, and pack against the frame in her haste to get inside. The door closed with a heavy thump, and seconds later a snarling cry echoed from outside in the hall. Sunset’s trembling hands found the clasp to lock the door from the inside, and she turned it over, locking it behind her.
Then she stepped back, away from the door as the pattering sound of the creature’s steps drew close once more, then stopped right outside. For a moment, all was silent, and then she heard the thing let out another guttural sniff. There was a coughing bark … and it moved on, the sound of its steps slowly fading.
Sunset let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. It was gone. Again. Better yet, it had come from the front of the school. Her path was, for the moment, clear.
But she’d also made it to her original destination. She turned, bringing her flashlight to life once more … And her spirits jumped.
Bright colors. Large, simple letters. Blocks scattered across desks. It was a children’s classroom.
And there were books. Shelves of them. Narrow, large print books.
She hurried over to the shelves as quickly as she could, skimming over cover after cover and pausing here and there in surprise.
These topics look … interesting. She’d been expecting … Well, what passed for children’s books in Equestria. Myths and legends, maybe. Snippets of history. Or just regular foal topics like making friends, or learning to cast a spell, or … whatever.
And it looked as though there were a few of those. A picture book with children playing. Or going on what looked like an adventure of some kind.
Wearing headbands. Carrying knives. Around barbed wire.
What kind of culture was this? Another book had a picture that was clearly tended to be monstrous, exaggerated figures in unfamiliar green armor looming over blue armor ones like that which she’d already seen. The blue-armored figures, she noted, were protecting a bunch of scared children.
Propaganda? It looked like ancient war literature, the kind of stuff from the chaos after the Breaking. Just … More modern.
She flipped through the pages, then slipped it and several of its siblings into her pack. They were bulky but light. And they might give me some idea of what happened here. She continued shifting through the books, looking for the smaller, simpler titles but picking out a few others here and there.
That looks like a history book of some kind. And so does that one. Simplified history, certainly, but until she could get her hooves—hands—on something better that she could actually read.
And again, the pictures would be helpful. Still, she needed something even more basic. She moved down to the next row of shelves. The books here were even simpler, including—
“Yes!” She paused for a brief moment, cocking her head towards the door in case her hunter had heard anything, but even that possibility couldn’t stop her from feeling a sense of elation. In her hands was an alphabet book, just like one she could have found in Equestria. Each page was dedicated to a letter, and then showing that letter in various words next to pictures of what the thing was.
Which means that shape right there is an ‘A,’ she thought, looking at the picture of an apple and then the highlighted letter. I think? Maybe? The language might not be one-to-one.
She could still hope, though, based on Starswirl’s spell. The book went into her backpack, along with another one that had a picture of one of the winged beings she’d seen the statues of on the front. And a few others that looked like small histories, or at least informative books on various subjects, from the carriages all over the place to, disturbingly, a large amount of weapons.
Who would give such a book to foals? Or better yet, why would someone feel a need to? The nervous pit in the bottom of her stomach was back again, and it wasn’t just because she was hungry. What sort of world is this?
The book went into her pack, along with the others. Maybe in understanding what it was about, she’d find some answers to a few of those questions.
All right, that seems to be just about … What’s that? There was an odd book at the back of the shelf, one that was harder and thicker than the others. Made of plastic? She plucked it from the shelf and studied the cover. What’s that grating? Is that a speaker of some kind?
There was an array of buttons along the side, and she pressed one.
“The cow goes ‘moo.’”
She almost dropped the book in shock as the voice echoed through the room.
Words. And I understood them! She didn’t know if it was Starswirl’s spell or if the languages just happened to sound the same—and given the complicated way the portal worked, it could take her days of study to even say—but they were words. Understandable.
“The cow goes ‘moo,’” she repeated, flipping the book open. There, on one of the few pages, was a picture of a cow, though it wasn’t like any cow she’d ever seen. And a symbol that was likely a colored number, correlating to an identical symbol and color on the button she’d pressed.
And on the page, beneath the cow, were words. Words that she was very certain spelled out “The cow goes ‘moo’” even though she couldn’t read it yet.
She stuffed the book into her pack as quickly as she could. I need that one more than all the others. Not just words, but voice. Somehow, through some spell, it was speaking. It was ingenious.
And it’d definitely help her figure out what was going on.
All right. The pack went back across her shoulders—a lot heavier now, but still manageable. Now just to get out of here without attracting the attention of that thing.
A quick check of the door through the glass showed that there was nothing nearby, at least not that she could see in the dim light. The real question is do I head back to the front door, the way I came, or take an alternate route? I know the one way works, but—
A distant thump rolled through the room, faint but distinct, and she paused, one hand on the door’s lock. What was that?
There was another thump, this one a little louder. Followed by a rustling sound and a familiar, raspy sniff.
It was distant, but it was getting closer. And where is it? The sounds didn’t sound like they were coming from the hall, through the thick door. It almost sounds like it’s in the room. But how?
The sounds were getting louder, now. Closer. Filling the room. But from where? She played her light across the desks, the walls, the rear windows, a ventilation grill by the ceiling.
A shrill scream filled the room as her light slid across the metal. The vents! Seconds later the metal cover exploded outward, flying across the room as the thing from earlier crashed down into the desks, scattering them.
She didn’t wait to see what it was. The door’s lock gave way beneath her hand and she was out into the hall, pausing only to slam the door shut. A second later it quivered as the thing smashed into it with a growling howl.
It didn’t matter. The door held, and she turned and bolted down the hall, running as fast as her feet could take her, the beam from her flashlight bobbing wildly as her arms pumped.
Don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip— Behind her she could still hear the thing screaming. Her boots slipped and squeaked over the tiles as she rounded an intersection, heading for the front entrance of the school.
Another shrill scream echoed down the halls behind her, coaxing her forward just a little faster. She was running on instinct now, nothing else. She wasn’t even sure how she would stop, how she was staying upright. All that mattered was getting away from the thing behind her.
Her boots slipped as she tried to round the corner by the inner set of doors, and then went out from under her. She hit the floor on her side, sliding on the damp tiles, a grunt of pain forcing itself out before she was able to get her feet under her and scramble the rest of the way out of the vestibule.
She stopped at the top of the steps, rain pelting her face, and turned to face the open doors, her light in one hand, the other scrambling to pull her hatchet out and hold it at the ready.
Nothing. The entryway was silent, gaping like an undisturbed tomb.
Maybe it was territorial, Sunset thought as her breathing began to slow. Her hands, she noticed, were both shaking, the beam from her flashlight practically a blur. Maybe it just wanted me to leave. Slowly, as the seconds passed, she began to relax. It just didn’t want me—
With a scream, the thing launched itself out of one of the nearby windows, landing on the steps nearby and looking right at her. It threw its claw tipped arms out wide, its jaw opening to let out a shrill, ear-piercing cry—until she buried her hatchet solidly into its head, cutting the scream off with a sudden choked gurgle. The thing’s body went limp, slumping to the ground and almost taking her hatchet with it.
For a moment she stood there in shock. Her eyes slipped from the gaping wound in the creature’s skull to the bloody hatchet in her hand, and then back again. Slowly, ichor began to ooze out of the thing’s head and across the wet concrete steps, diluting under the rain.
I killed it. Her eyes moved back to the hatchet. The metal blade was wet with the creature’s blood, the red mixing with more rain and slowly dripping off of the curved edge. I killed it.
She took a slow, shaky breath. She wasn’t as innocent as to think that everything always had to live. She knew what the Rangers did, and the Guard. Sometimes to stop something, killing it was all you could do. Especially an animal. A non-sapient beast that couldn’t be reasoned with.
And this … thing … It hadn’t been sapient. There’d been no light of intelligence in its eyes when it had looked at her. It was an animal. A savage hunter, pure and simple.
Still … the shivers continued. I’ve never done anything like that before. Ever. Not in my training. Not in my schooling. Not …
Never.
But the claws at the end of its spindly hands, sharp and jagged, as well as the vicious looking teeth in its open mouth told her it had held no such reservations. It had meant to attack her.
Even more curious, it was wearing old, battered armor. In fact, it looked like—
The small remains I saw in the park. This must be what they look like when they’re alive.
Or close to it anyway. On closer examination, it did look slightly gaunt and thin, as if it hadn’t been eating well. Or maybe they always looked like that?
Maybe it was left after the attack. Which would mean it had been surviving on its own for who knew how long.
It was … hideous to look at. Even without the gaping wound in its skull. It’s skin was mottled and an ashen grey color. There were no cheeks, just long, razor-sharp teeth. Both its feet and its … hands? … were clawed, though strangely enough it only had three toes while it had four fingers and a thumb, much as her new body did.
That’s strange. She leaned it closer, eyeing the callouses in the thing’s skin around the openings in the armor that had been somewhat sloppily fitted over it.
That armor really was never meant to be removed, she thought, eyeing the welds. It’s sealed in.
It must not grow much larger. Otherwise it would suffocate and die.
Still, what sort of force would seal a living creature inside armor for the rest of its life? Unless they had a safe means of cutting it out. But somehow, she suspected that wasn’t the case.
A gust of wind pulled her focus away at last. Overhead, the clouds were getting darker, and the raindrops hitting her shoulders and back felt larger and heavier than they had been earlier.
You got what you came for. She dipped the head of her hatchet in a nearby puddle, swishing it back and forth and cleaning away the creature’s reddish blood. It stained the puddle pink, and revulsion made her already empty stomach twitch. A second puddle cleared the edge the rest of the way off, and she slipped the hatchet back into its sheath.
It would be a long walk across the city back to the shop. And she was certainly going to make sure all the doors were locked when she returned.
But she’d found what she needed. She turned and moved down the steps, starting the long journey back across the city beneath the rain.
She was still shaking when she arrived back at the garden shop.