Dust and I had a jolly time exploring the ruins. The normally impassive unicorn was infectiously enthusiastic about any sort of learning. She led us from building to building, guessing the purposes of each. It became increasingly clear to me that she was right; this was some kind of tourist destination. There were many amusement rides and what had to be gambling machines. Dust became particularly enthusiastic when we found an old phonograph with a cylinder in it. She cranked the handle, but the cylinder did not spin. “Ah, that’s a shame,” I said.
Dust tilted her horn towards the handle, and a bright point of light appeared at the tip. The phonograph lit up, but this somehow looked different from standard unicorn levitation. Before my eyes, the phonograph was dusted and polished, leaving it a shiny brass color. The needle reset; I hadn’t noticed it was bent. Something inside clicked. “What did you do?” I said.
“Are you aware that every unicorn has a spell or two related to their special talent?” Dust said. “What could suit me better than a restoration spell?”
“A restoration spell?” I said. “You should have been an archaeologist!”
“And work outdoors all day?” Dust said, shuddering. “You don’t think a restoration spell is useful at the library? Do you know how many ponies bring books back blemished with food?” With her horn, she reset the cylinder and cranked the handle. After a few seconds, a song started. It was a fast, jazzy, big band tune.
“Oh, hey, that’s groovy,” I said, tapping my hoof. By the second chorus when the trumpets kicked in, I was bobbing my head and swaying my whole body. I tried to imagine the scene in the room. We were on the stage of an amphitheater. Dead lights lined the bottom of the stage. The phonograph told me this place was not used primarily for live music performances. Something else, then. Anything else, really. I decided I liked the image of some great and powerful stage magician performing up here, mystifying even the unicorns with tricks of deception and sleight of hoof.
The song ended, and I stopped… well, dancing. I was full-on dancing by the end. Dust was watching me with a grin. “I play trumpet in a jazz band,” I said sheepishly. “That was my kind of jam.”
“Did I say I was judging you?” Dust said. We moved on to the next room. We passed many intricate statues, elaborate fountains, detailed paintings, and ornate chandeliers. A lot of wealth had gone into this place.
One statue, however, caught our attention in particular. At nearly the center of the city was an entire plaza laid over the clouds. Plastic palm trees provided some shade, and several statues and fountains dotted the plaza. Dust stopped at the centerpiece. It depicted six ponies—two earth ponies, two pegasi, a unicorn, and an alicorn with a crown. “Do you know these ponies?” Dust said.
“No,” I said.
“Have you ever heard of the Guardians of Friendship?”
“I may have heard it somewhere, but I’m not sure,” I said.
“I’ve always speculated: Were they legends, or real historical figures?” Dust said. “Is this my answer?” She stared at the statue, entranced. I turned to look closer, as well. The sculptor had done them in a style that seemed cute, rather than epic and imposing like the previous pegasus guards. But their personalities came through even in stone. A joker, a homely mare with a country hat, an adventurous pegasus, a pony with kindly eyes, a unicorn who radiated confidence and beauty, and the optimistic, friendly alicorn in the center.
I turned back to Dust, and I noticed tears in her eyes. She sniffed and said, “Are you wondering why I’m crying? I don’t know, it’s just, how could we have lost so much? How could ponies have once constructed a city like this?”
“I didn’t even know that pegasi could stand on clouds until the magic was restored,” I said. “Turns out they could build whole cities of clouds and put solid stone and wood structures on top of it. I have no idea how, though.”
“Were we really once so united?” Dust said. “Were they truly such good friends, standing side by side like in this statue? How did ponies ever have the wealth and prosperity to build something like this? You’ve seen Bridlewood Forest, right? How can we not even run a proper electric grid, when they could put lights lining every poster?”
“It’s mindboggling,” I said.
“Could ‘heartrending’ be a better word?” Dust said. “How did we fall so far? How could we lose so much? What… happened?” Her tears quietly pattered on the wooden walkway.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems weird that a civilization this advanced could just… disappear. And we didn’t even know it ever existed. Hate can do marvelous things.”
“General hate, or an action more deliberate and calculated?” Dust said. “Will we ever know?” She wiped her face with her mane. “Well, shall we move on?” We continued exploring as the hours towards sunset ticked by. The time ate away at my brain a little bit. By my original plan, I would be flying back already.
Soon we stopped to eat dinner. “I recommend that we eat everything we have,” I said. “There’s a nice meadow near the overlook where we can eat a natural breakfast.”
“Is there actually sufficient food out there for breakfast?” Dust said. “Will it be nutritious?”
“Probably more nutritious than a lot of the food we eat in the city,” I said. “It will take some time to find and eat a whole meal, but it’ll be worth it. Hiking takes a lot of calories, so we need this stuff now.” We ate through all our trail food, making our packs lighter. Then we got back to exploring.
Eventually we came to a large, steel rollercoaster. The steel was rusted, and a part of the structure had collapsed, leaving a shattered pile where a hill should have been. “You game for a ride?” Dust said, smiling. Her horn started glowing the way it had when she restored the phonograph.
“You can do that?” I said, incredulous.
Dust snickered and said, “Did you believe me?” She restored the entry sign next to the roller coaster to pristine condition.
“Only a little bit,” I said. “I don’t know how unicorn magic works.” We continued exploring, and soon we were discussing where we would sleep. Obviously Dust wanted to be indoors. We did tour a few buildings that were obviously hotels, but the mattresses were not in a usable state. We settled on a large room with empty shelves. Dust theorized that it was a library, although I wasn’t sure how different an empty library was from an empty grocery store. Either way, it was odd that it was empty.
“What do you think transpired here?” Dust said.
“It’s hard to say. It’s not a total mess in here. Could the pegasi have known that magic was disappearing? Otherwise they’d have all fallen from the sky and died, and there’s no stories of anything like that. So maybe they took whatever was here since they knew they’d have to abandon their cloud city. But… there’s plenty of other stuff around. They didn’t take everything. Maybe they only took what was most valuable.”
“Such as books?” Dust said. She lay down in an aisle between shelves and said, “Are you exhausted?”
“Tired, at least,” I said. I felt she was probably more worn out than me, except for my wings. I set my glasses on a shelf and trotted behind the shelf to say a quick prayer. Then I returned and lay down on the other side of the aisle, about a pony’s length away from Dust.
“Can you come closer, please?” Dust said. “I might get anxious in the night, you know?”
“Okay,” I said. I was usually very bashful when it came to getting close to or touching other ponies, but for some reason I didn’t feel diffident as I scooted right next to Dust. Somehow she felt different, like I was interacting with a talking book instead of a pony.
She turned to sleep on her side, facing away from me. “Thank you,” she said. I turned onto my side, facing away from Dust. The stone tile floor was hard, but we were just going to have to deal with that. The air was cool, there was a faint smell of dust—the other kind of dust—and the place was completely silent. I could easily hear Dust breathing. After a few moments, she quietly said, “Do you want to know why I always speak in questions?”
My ear perked up. “There’s more to it than what you said before?” I responded.
“Well, did I say that?” Dust said. “Would you believe it’s literally just because I want to? My cutie mark is about learning, and how better to learn than to always be inquiring? And, well… have you ever felt like it’s difficult to converse with other ponies? Why is it so… unnerving? Anyway, can you comprehend the concept of communicating in questions as a kind of… shield? Like, am I really conversing with ponies if I’m only using the interrogative? It’s better somehow, you know?” She paused. “Do you feel like it’s different somehow when we talk? Do you find it easier to talk to me, or is that not mutual?”
“It’s mutual,” I said, reminded that I was lying down right next to another pony. “That does make me wonder why you always talk in questions to me, though.”
“Um, force of habit?” Dust said. She was quiet for a moment. “Did you think I was cursed or something?”
“What?” I said. “Of course not.”
“Had you not heard the rumors?” Dust said. “Who started the allegation that I was jinxed? Was it fifteen years ago, or sixteen now?”
“You were just a filly, then,” I said. “That’s a horrible rumor!”
“Do you think I’m odd?” Dust said softly.
“Yes,” I said frankly. “But a good odd. You can talk any way you want around me. I like it. I mean, have you ever felt like you’ve met the same pony a thousand different times?”
“You feel that way, as well?” Dust said.
“I don’t mean to rag on more… normal ponies,” I said. “But I like variety in my life. I’ve never met a pony like you before.”
“Aww…” Dust mumbled. “Thanks, Peace. Well, good night.”
“Good night,” I said.
I dozed off, but I slept lightly on the stone. Partway through the night, I heard Dust shift around. She was breathing quickly. I looked over towards her. She was still lying down, but she seemed unsettled. I slowly turned to my other side so I was facing her. I reached a wing over to cover her up. My feathers gently made contact with her back and side. She inhaled sharply, then her breathing settled. Before I knew it, I was asleep again.
* * *
I woke up with my wing still over Dust. She seemed to be asleep, but a trickle of light was coming through the windows. The air was chilly and damp. I stood up and trotted around, stretching my legs. Dust stirred. “What time is it?” she mumbled.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking out the window. “5 or so, maybe?”
Dust groaned. “I’m not going to get any more REM sleep, am I?” She stood up and brushed herself off. We walked back to the edge of the city, where we had first landed. Looking at it now, I thought this little walkway that led to nowhere must have been an overlook for earth ponies and unicorns.
Flying Dust down wasn’t nearly as hard as flying her up. I still had to flap instead of just gliding, but I set her down on the ground without mishap. “Were you practicing while I wasn’t observing?” Dust said.
“Down is easier than up,” I said. “And I got practice when I carried you up.” The sun still hadn’t quite risen yet, but there was enough light to get started on the trail. I was already feeling hungry, but it wasn’t long before we arrived at the meadow. “Let’s get some breakfast,” I said.
“What’s comestible and what’s not?” Dust asked. I launched into listing the scientific names and edibility of every plant I saw. I had tried most of these during my research in Bridlewood Forest, so I could even describe their flavors. I was surprised to find a patch of Achnatherum robustum, which I strongly warned against eating due to the sedative defense compounds of the endophytic fungi.
“How do I distinguish it from the other grasses?” Dust said. I tried to explain the pubescence around the upper cauline collars, but we decided the safer way was for me to simply lay out my scarf where the A. robustum started growing.
This was a diverse meadow. Crystals jutted out here and there. There were over a dozen species of edible plants between the grasses, daisies, dandelions, and mints. They were all absolutely fresh, packed with diverse flavors. I wandered out a little bit as I was eating, and I even found some wild raspberries growing next to a stream. “I found raspberries!” I called out. Dust slowly came over, stopping to munch on mints as she approached.
I eagerly bit off the raspberries. They were little explosions of tart flavor in my mouth. “Ah, this is the most refreshing breakfast I’ve ever had!” I said. “I should fly out to the wilderness for breakfast every morning.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t ruin your moment with a pessimistic comment about how I’d rather eat a pastry for breakfast?” Dust said.
“Wh… what?” I said. “Eat this raspberry, Dust. This raspberry may be smaller and less juicy than a store-bought raspberry, but it has ten times the flavor as one of those big, juicy, store-bought raspberries. This raspberry is perfect. It is fulfilling the measure of its creation.”
“What?” Dust said, blinking.
“Oh, it’s a phrase from the scriptures,” I said. “But seriously, these raspberries, Dust! And everything else. This is a wonderful breakfast.”
Dust just shrugged and ate some raspberries, clearly not enjoying them as much as me. The sun rose as we ate, although the trees around the meadow blocked our view. Soon we had eaten our fill. We filled our water at the stream and continued along the trail
We got to the bottom of the waterfall without mishap. “I know you weren’t a fan of this part of the trail,” I said. “Do you want me to fly you up to the top?”
“And put you through all that arduous work?” Dust said. “You don’t think I can manage?” Her body language was a mix of fear and determination. I took the lead, and we climbed up the trail. I looked back at Dust occasionally, but she didn’t seem as panicked as last time. Good for her.
We made it to the top. “You did great,” I said. “Are you ready to keep going?”
“Can we take a break first?” Dust said, puffing. I nodded, and we rested on our hooves for a moment. We continued up the trail, and we were approaching the unicorn town before noon.
“Um, Peace?” Dust said quietly as we walked.
“Yeah?”
“Would you like to see me again sometime?” she said. “There aren’t a lot of other ponies who enjoy being around me, you know? Could you visit again? Or, would you write down your address in Zephyr Heights so I can visit you?”
“That sounds great,” I said. “I’ll try to visit, but feel free to visit me if you have the time.” I stopped and took my notebook and pen out of my pack. I tore out a paper, wrote my address, and passed it to Dust.
“Thank you,” Dust said, levitating it into her pack. We arrived at the city and walked to the library.
“Well, this is goodbye for now,” I said. “But we’ll see each other again, I’m sure.”