//------------------------------// // Day 137 // Story: Stations // by Mint Essence //------------------------------// Two Weeks Later... He had lost his job almost exactly two weeks ago to the day, having spent the great majority of that time in bed or otherwise lazing about until he was slowly able to recover his senses. After all he had lost his job, but being a single dutifully employed stallion for the past decade had left him with more than enough money and in quite the stable situation that he needn’t see his termination as an immediate threat to his basic security. He had no income, but the decent chunk of money he had been able to save, if for no other reason than having nothing and nopony to spend it on, gave him a generous amount of breathing room. There was certainly still some fear there, but there was also a great empowering feeling he felt from having lost his job and yet despite that still being able to carry on his life as he had before, minus his depression for the last month. He might live years on his savings if he was frugal enough, and his train pass still had 137 days on it, and he intended to use them. Getting out of bed he put on his usual suit, skipping the rest of his routine as he hurried down to the shop to get a less than healthy breakfast. He had thought of something more frugal when he got there considering that he no longer had any income, but he was feeling a certain high after getting over his depression so he decided to go for a fancier soda, a rose petal and tarragon sandwich, and a smaller but more expensive bag of sweets. Getting on the train he took his usual seat amongst his other three companions, but he didn’t need to see much to know what he’d be going after today. Looking down at the tracks as the train’s engine began to start up he stared down at the endless stream of pebbles at either side of its rails, which immediately brought to mind a long water stream that winded off far into the distance directly away from the tracks, banked at either side by countless bright little pebbles, that he had often seen between his own station and the next. The only problem being that it was too far away from either station to be in trotting distance. A few minutes into their journey he realised that he’d need to do something a bit more drastic if this was really the route he wanted to take. He had to find some way of getting off the train before it stopped. Abruptly getting up from his seat Positive casually trotted towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him as he lay the toilet seat down to stand up on. Climbing on top of it he reached for a dark maroon coloured set of curtains just above the toilet, opening them to reveal a small window. Unlocking the window he threw it open to peer his head out. The gap was indeed small, and the train was moving at some speed, but not nearly fast enough to seriously injure himself, so long as he was careful with his levitation magic. Waiting a good few minutes more until they came closer to small stream Positive primed himself to make his leap. He had feared that he might lack courage to make the jump, but just as they were passing it he threw himself right out of the window in a moment of impulse, remembering to apply his magic to soften his blow at the very last second, just as his rump was connecting with the surprisingly soft grass bellow. Looking back over at the train he saw a curious mare peering out of the window after him, but he supposed that that didn’t matter too much. He laughed, waving back at her as she disappeared, speeding off into the distance. Getting back up onto his hooves he looked around at his surroundings, simply smiling as he felt the warm sun shine on his coat from above, the bright fields of luscious grass tickling his fetlocks. He broke into another fit of laughter. Trotting back along the tracks he came up to the stream after a very short two minutes. Sitting by its pebbled bank as he reached for his sandwich and soda, enjoying both as he lay down to rest in the sun. Finishing his snack he got back up and made his way down the stream, letting the flow of rushing water fill his ears as his hooves crunched and sank into the pebbles underhoof. He continued like this for a good hour and a half, leisurely trotting along the stream until he could eventually make out a small shore off in the distance. Not wanting to disturb his comfortable little stroll he tried to not pay in too much mind, simply seeing it as another part of the beautiful scenery. Nearing the coast however his interest was perked as he found a small derelict lighthouse not too far off its shore, and a smaller shack that lay just beside the stream, just before the beach. Entering the shack he found it to be empty, say for a half broken oar, a few unreadable maps half hanging off the wall or lying haphazardly across the floor, and a small hoofful of equally ruined books. Searching around, it clearly had some connection to the lighthouse, but he wasn’t able to figure out it’s exact purpose. Leaving the shack he made of for the shore, finding a small row boat alongside a single intact paddle, both laying on the sand beside the water’s edge. Turning the small boat over and checking the immediate vicinity didn’t reveal any else that might help him. He then questioned why he would even bother looking, before he gazed over the water, towards the lighthouse. It wasn’t far away, in fact he could probably just swim back if he really needed to. A certain shiver ran up his spine at this idea. Was really going to be this reckless? No, he knew that there was no way to stop himself at this point. He didn’t feel any compulsion per se, this is simply just what was happening. Returning to the shack he took the paddle half of the other oar that lay inside and a good length of rope that didn’t look too badly worn out and trotted back to the boat. After quickly tying his rope to a conveniently placed hook he inside the small row boat he threw his broken oar inside, grabbing either side of the boat with either of his forehooves as he heaved it off into the water. Getting it out by a decent distance he paddled his way alongside it before climbing in. At least it floated, now he just had to figure out how to work his oars, or rather oar and a half. He spent a good few minutes at this, uselessly trying to get a good grip of either oar, only to keep losing them to the sea, retrieving them, losing them another half dozen times, before he was finally able to get a few weak paddles in that did nothing more than slightly turn his boat. However, at some point in the midst of this, while using his magic on the oars to try and steer his ship back around, he had accidentally stroked the water with his telekinetic spell, causing his boat to move forward by a few inches. Continuing use his magic more directly he found that he was only able to move in the direction he wanted to, but make some decent speed towards it as well. It didn’t take him anymore than five minutes to reach the lighthouse once he had discovered this, considering how close it was to the shore. The lighthouse stood on a small island of rock that stretched out to create an almost natural dock, which was in turn attached to a wooden, if slightly worn down dock where he could park his boat alongside two other that lay there. Getting out from his boat he looked up towards the lighthouse itself. It was actually quite small, elevated by a roughly cut spire of rock that made up well over three quarters of its height, with the building itself looking like nothing more than a simple stone cabin with a short stump protruding from its top, from which a large light bulb could clearly be seen. Trotting around the small island he found a set of fairly intact stone stairs that wrapped around the spiring rock. Climbing them he was brought face to face with lighthouse’s door, which to his frustration remained firmly locked behind a stiff iron padlock. Scrambling around for a key that might have been conveniently dropped he found nothing. Similarly he had thought about smashing the windows to get inside, but even if he could he really didn’t want to just leave the building open to the elements which otherwise seemed perfectly intact, at least on the inside. Peering in however he did notice something interesting. In the dead centre of the room lay a small winding stairwell that seemed to dig into the floor underneath, spiralling right through down to what he presumed to be the rock he had just climbed his way around. Quickly rushing back down the stairs he did another lap around the base of the rock, finding a suspiciously placed clump of moss that hung down from the back of the rock in a small door shaped arch. Pushing his hoof against it he found what at first appeared to be a solid wall, however upon tapping it a few times he saw a faint blue glow behind the moss, causing the rock to momentarily disappear, allowing him to trot through before it immediately appeared back again, as if it had never gone. He imagined that he must have accidentally tapped it a certain number of times or in a certain way that it was programmed to respond to, or it was more likely than not simply broken. Trotting down the narrow corridor he came to the stairs, clopping his way up the metallic surface to the main building above. While there wasn’t anything too exciting to see inside it had certainly quaint almost homely feeling to it for it’s simplicity. Other than a small hatch that lead up to the light itself there was one single room which in of itself was quite small, made all the more constrained by the bed, stove, desk, icebox and one or two other small pieces of furniture that were squashed between rows and rows of well stocked antique bookshelves, all of which was elevated by a hoof/foot or two by a small cobblestone wall that ran around the entirety of the building, minus the door, all beautifully overlayed by dark oak top. A small fireplace also lay at either side of two bookshelves, which like everything else fit quite homely into the small room, really finishing the picture, even if it may have looked less than safe tightly packed between so many flammable items. Despite this however the centre of the room lay completely bare, giving a pony some space to stretch his hooves and look around at the entirety of his little world, so it didn’t feel too claustrophobic. He spent an hour like this, looking through some of the books before he started to play around with some of the lighthouse’s controls, expecting the thing to either have no power or be completely broken. Given this he was quite shocked when he flipped a certain switch only for the whole buildings to come to life as a blinding light started up, rotating a few sturdy mechanisms up above to turn the direction of the light. Positive panicked, slamming his hoof back down on the switch on the off chance that anypony far off in the distance might have seen the building come to life. He spent the next half hour idly milling about as he had been, having a good look at as many of countless books that surrounded him as possible, or otherwise curiously poking his head around to see what other little scrap he might find. He hoped for food, thinking that he’d be able to cook up something decent by the stove, but then imagined that even any canned food that might have been kept here would have gone off long ago by now. With that done he left soon after, leaving everything exactly as he had found it, as he vowed to come back to the place. As it was, being perfectly isolated but also quite homely and comfortable, it wouldn’t take much to touch it up and make it into a regular den or hideout he could come to as a retreat away from the world, or simply if he was bored enough to plan a day out there. Indeed disturbing it in any way almost seemed like an impious act against its untouched and perfectly preserved stillness. Leaving the same way he had come in Positive had initially thought of simply retracing his steps and trying to find some way back to his station along the rails, but he imagined that there must be a settlement, or at the very least an abandoned one nearby which the lighthouse had once served. So getting in his boat he set off in a random direction, using his magic to propel himself forward until he found something interesting to dock by or simply got too tired and was forced to return to the lighthouse for the night, setting off in the opposite direction the next day. Indeed he couldn’t have been sailing for much more than twenty minutes when he caught sight of a small port by the coast. Not wanting to draw suspicion he immediately brought his boat up to the shore, dragging it a good deal up the beach before he trotted up to see what he could find. Trotting up from the beach to find a small stone path that he continued his way down he at first came across a small series of abandoned buildings, not shacks, but proper homes and businesses that while clearly not in use didn’t look too done in. However soon after he came upon some ponies and a street that looked at least somewhat more lively than the few he had passed, but could hardly be called that of a thriving town. Trotting around the town he guessed that for every two abandoned buildings he had passed there wasn’t more than one that appeared occupied, not that the town was particularly large to begin with. Seeing that nopony seemed to take any interest in him he soon found a small run down bar, that while open for business didn’t look much better than the greater two thirds of the towns infrastructure. Entering the bar he found that while at the bar itself, where the drinks were served, nothing seemed particularly off, the place where normal seating would have been once placed for ponies to enjoy a nice meal or a few drinks had become a stage for leering stallions to gather round and gawk at dancing mares, in all sorts of positions and lewd states of dress. Blushing as he approached the bar Positive was immediately greeted by the burly stallion serving drinks who spoke in a rough voice saying. “2 bits for a drink, 20 for a dance, 40 for a half hour, 80 for an hour, 150 for the night.” He said nonchalantly. “Sorry?” Positive asked. “Well I haven’t seen you before, so I thought I’d give the prices up front. You just wonder in or something, you look a bit lost?” He simply asked. Lying Positive went on to explain how a friend of his had about the shore he had first come across by the lighthouse, saying that it was the ideal place for a nice day out given how secluded it was. He then quickly added that said friend had told him nothing any settlements nearby, and that he had just happened to wonder into the place by accident. The stallion had a good laugh at this, pouring Positive a drink that he promptly hoofed over the bits for. He then went on to talk about a little bit of the town’s history, explaining how the lighthouse was no more than four years old and had never even been used. Asking about this he went on to explain how the town had been a typical small almost familial village until a small vein of gold had been found another five years before the lighthouse had been constructed. That had naturally caused a gold rush into the small village which caused an implosion in the place’s local economy with new infrastructure popping up as fast as the ponies that streamed into the town. Soon after a dock was built for the ships that had begun appearing by their shore, and after it, as they had no need for money, a lighthouse was built off in the direction said ships had been sailing up from to guide them towards the town and away from the apparently shallow waters surrounding it. In truth only one boat had ever had any problems there, and even then it was a small collision that had caused nothing more than a scare, but the lighthouse was built regardless, in hopes that if nothing else it would help ensure their growing town’s place on the map. By the time it had been built however what was left of the gold had been thoroughly milked dry and ponies were starting to pack their bags as they made off with all they could carry. Once the ponies left the town had all its moral sapped out of it and was brought back down to its normal population, plus a good few stragglers. But while nothing else remained, the buildings were still there, as was the lighthouse. He had told him this tale over the course of about an hour while he served him countless drinks he had never asked for, distracting him from the amount he was guzzling back and the bits he was putting out as he was slowly drawn into the depressing history of the little town. His memory ceased to function from that post onwards, as he continued to drink down Celestia knows how many drinks and take in the atmosphere.