//------------------------------// // Chapter 4 // Story: Tall Tale of Sweet Sauce // by Starscribe //------------------------------// Sweet Sauce remembered predators like these—though nopony was sure if timberwolves were even capable of eating the ones they caught. They were manifestations of the untamed wild places, and protected them fiercely. To see them here did not bode well for the state of the castle. “What are those things?” Pipsqueak asked, continuing towards the bridge. It wasn’t much of a bridge, just half-rotten wooden beams, and threadbare rope. It wouldn’t be able to carry the load of the many hundreds of carts rolling in and out of the castle each day, with food and steel and other supplies. “Not friendly.” Dinky dropped the stick she was levitating, taking a few nervous steps towards the forest. “I don’t think they want us here. We should… go.” It won’t help. It’s about dominance, and we’ve already threatened their territory. Sweet Sauce ran through a few scenarios in his head, different ways they could run for their lives until they were eventually hunted and torn apart. It would be at least the third worst hike he’d ever been on. “No!” He took off at a gallop, straight past the timberwolves onto the old bridge. “Follow me!” His companions hadn’t been entirely cooperative during the journey so far—but fear had a way of working on ponies. Even now, they were herding animals by nature. It was good to have a leader to follow.  They galloped along behind him. The old wood groaned under their weight, but being small did have at least one advantage. They were much too light to damage the bridge. The timberwolves considered for a few moments, then they were off chasing them. Jaws open wide, wooden teeth glistening with sap. But as the first got close to them, one of its paws shattered the bridge underfoot. It tumbled into the canyon below, yipping and squealing as it fell. This gave the others pause, long enough for Sauce and the foals to clear the bridge. “Dinky, the rope!” he said, gesturing urgently at it. “Cut the rope!” She stumbled to a stop beside him, eyes widening with panic. “You want me to… what? We didn’t learn about how to cut…” The other two timberwolves turned away from the opening, and back towards them. Even worse, they seemed to realize the danger the bridge presented—instead of stampeding towards them, now they took each step carefully, creeping towards the three helpless foals. I might be a dirthorse, but I’m not useless. Sauce took hold of Dinky’s leg with one of his own, drawing a few swirling shapes in the soft soil. The rune lines began to glow with each stroke—the magic didn’t care that he was basically puppeting her. Unicorn magic was unicorn magic. “What are you doing?” Pipsqueak asked, with the expected level of earth pony stupefaction. Along with a heaping spoonful of not knowing when to bucking shut his mouth. “What is that?” Dinky turned towards him, losing focus. The wolves were almost to the edge of the bridge. One of them rested one paw on solid ground, toothy smile widening. Hopefully they ate stupid ponies first. “Point your horn at the bridge!” Sauce yelled, jerking Dinky’s leg through the circle enclosing the runes. As soon as it completed, the air lit up in a brilliant cyan flash. But that was nothing compared to the flames that followed. Dinky’s horn blasted with a wave of fire twice as wide as she was, a shimmering blue wall. It tore through the timberwolves like they weren’t even there, then ripped the bridge and several feet of dirt right off the cliffside.  The beam continued up into the air, slicing through trees like paper as it vanished into the distance near the speed of light. Steam began to rise from Dinky’s horn. She turned towards him, grinning weakly. “That was… woah.” She dropped to the dirt beside him, and started snoring. For a few seconds there was nothing to break the silence, other than the gentle crackle of burning bridge and Dinky’s snores. Pipsqueak made his slow way over, nudging her with one hoof. He circled wide around her, avoiding passing in front where her horn still steamed slightly. “Dinky can do that?” Sauce glanced down at the black marks burned into the dirt, and began scuffing out the runes as quickly as he could. “Don’t ask silly questions, Pipsqueak. Anypony can do that. But unicorns happen to have a readily accessible foci that can be tapped for useful magic. Disabled ponies like ourselves need to rely on blood and other crude mechanisms to fuel a spell.”  Sauce nudged the resting filly with one hoof, but she didn’t move. In his panic, he hadn’t managed to give the makeshift rune anything to limit the power it took. “Help me with the child, Pip. It’s almost nightfall, we can’t leave her here.” The colt looked up, concerned. “You’re not doin’ that silly accent no more?” He forced it, though he couldn’t muster the heart for it right now. “I will if you do.” “I ain’t doin’ no accent!” But he helped without further complaint, and that was what mattered. Sauce walked through dead gardens, toppled statues, up the soundless steps to the old castle. They managed to carry Dinky well enough, at least they didn’t drag her legs. Being an earth pony did sometimes have some advantages, even if he found the exchange utterly unbalanced. But if Sauce had been expecting to find the interior in better shape than his glimpse from outside, he was disappointed. Priceless tapestries were tattered or missing, intricate mosaic flooring was drowned in grime and dirt, and the smell of mildew and rotting wood assaulted his nose as they stepped inside. “We shouldn’t be in here…” Pipsqueak muttered, keeping pace with him. “But where are we even supposed to go? The whole bridge got burned up. Are we stuck here forever?” Sauce shook his head absently. “There are a dozen different ways to cross a gap that wide, and only eleven involve magic. We’ll find somewhere safe for our companion to rest the night. By morning, she should be recovered. Though she might be too weak to cast spells for another few days.” “A few days?” Pipsqueak asked, indignant. “I’m in so much trouble… my parents are gonna be worried sick about me. Don’t you have parents who worry about you?” “They’re dead,” he said, as flat and cold as the crumbling stone all around them. “There is nopony looking for me. Or if there are, they probably want to kill me too. Some grudges run deeper than iron and bone, young workhorse.” “This looks safe.” Pipsqueak gestured down an open doorway. The space beyond was darker than most, but here that was an advantage. Servants’ quarters, with intact furniture. They walked together through the gloom. Sauce almost asked Dinky to light the way, until a particularly loud snore reminded him that she was completely unconscious. “You can’t just say things like that,” Pipsqueak finally said. “You talk like a pony out of a comic book. I thought you were pretendin’. But why take us here? You could’ve lied all you wanted when we were safe in Ponyville. Dinky would’ve listened either way, it’s how she is.” “I never lied to you,” he said seriously. “Well, nothing I told you was untrue. You’re small enough that you tend to make assumptions that are easy to exploit. But that isn’t the same thing.” They found a bed that hadn’t been completely rotted away to nothing. But there were no spiders on the plain wooden platform, or infestation of weevils. That would have to do. Together they hefted Dinky up onto the platform, where she could finally rest.  A shame they didn’t have a blanket, Sauce was getting chilly.  “This is really bad,” Pipsqueak said, slumping to the floor in front of the bed. “Those things… they were really gonna eat us. Not just some story for Nightmare Night.” He whimpered, curling up on the floor. “I wouldn’t let them,” Sauce said. “We were never in any danger. Or… no, it was terrible danger. But our enemies were in far greater danger. If there were any watching from the forest, they’ll probably tell all the others just how dangerous little ponies are. Future travelers will have far less to fear.” Pipsqueak met his eyes, but he didn’t seem reassured. He turned away after only a few seconds. “You really mean it.” “Always. Except when I don’t, which isn’t right now. Pass the snacks?” Pipsqueak twisted to the side, exposing his saddlebags packed with their almost meal. But he’d take unsatisfying equestrian food over whatever slop he could order at a roadside McDonald’s any day. This was home. Except it wasn’t. The castle was crumbling around him. The ponies who should’ve been here for their epic confrontation weren’t here. Do I really want the Royal Guard to show up and drag me off? At least that way somepony would remember him. “What happened to this place?” he asked, as soon as he’d finished eating. However unhappy he was with him, Pipsqueak didn’t leave. A pony who’d led him somewhere scary was still safer than a half-collapsed castle filled with strange noises and general spookiness. “Huh?” Pipsqueak looked up, scooting a little closer. But maybe he was happy enough to have someone to talk to. “The Castle of the Two Sisters,” Sauce said. “This was the capital of Equestria. There should be hundreds of structures around it on all sides. A city of ten thousand, the center of culture and learning for all the world.” Pipsqueak’s eyebrows went up, or at least he thought they did. The windows were boarded up, and the only light was a faint trickle of moonlight from down the hall. Too bad the music player’s lithium battery hadn’t agreed with the Worldgate. “Old castle… ponies sometimes come out to visit. They talk about how important it was, I guess. Also… stories about somethin’ haunting it. Hopefully those are just for Nightmare Night.” “When was it important?” Sauce pressed. “There’s plants growing inside, sections of ceiling have collapsed. That should take centuries. I haven’t been gone that long.” Pipsqueak only looked more confused. “I dunno, Sauce. My parents would never dream ‘a letting me come here. School wouldn’t either… this is the Everfree. This is for grownups, with lots of friends and powerful magic. We shouldn’t be messin’ with it.” “I’m not going to mess with it, the ponies I’m looking for aren’t here.” He slumped to the floor, not far from Pipsqueak. He’d never get closer, because that would be admitting he didn’t want to be alone. Perish the thought. “At least tell me you know who Princess Celestia is.” “Obviously,” Pipsqueak said. “That’s easy. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, Twilight. Rulers of Equestria four. The first one…” He stopped his recitation, interrupting the rhyming meter. “Okay, I forget the rest. But it’s not my fault! Feels like every year it gets longer!” “More Alicorns in Equestria,” Sauce grumbled unhappily. “Like the two weren’t enough. After everything Celestia survived, she doesn’t need more help than her sister. Why did they allow it?” “I have no idea.” Pipsqueak struggled with his saddlebag a moment, then rested his head up against it. “I’m gonna be in so much trouble… we’re all in so much trouble. I hope they don’t send Dinky back to magical kindergarten.” “There was supposed to be a castle here,” Sauce said. “Way bigger than Ponyville. Packed with ponies ready to pamper us. There were always musicians outside, day and night. I liked the bats best—they played the gentlest music. Bells and lyre you could hear from anywhere in the garden. I fell asleep to it sometimes, playing songs from Before. Why did they leave the castle?” But Pipsqueak didn’t answer. He’d fallen into an uneasy sleep, tossing, and turning on the old stone floor. Soon Sweet Sauce joined him, in that little space not even suited for his servants.  Maybe tomorrow would be better.