//------------------------------// // 18. Lost // Story: Lost and Found // by Cloudy Skies //------------------------------// While it was clear there would be no snow, the forest thinned day by day still, giving less shelter from the only real weather they got; wind. As they trekked across valleys and hills that became ever flatter, always in the shadow of the mountains behind, vegetation became increasingly sparse and soil turned dry. The only notable discovery had been a clean slab of stone as the forest honestly stopped being just that and became dry plains. With no markings to give the stone meaning, it had been an easy decision to leave it and move on. Fluttershy would fly up at least twice a day when there was a lull in the wind, but it took many days still before it came apparent that the expanse she had spotted long ago was no lake. When they finally drew near, they found that the large lake had dried up, leaving behind a huge, gaping pit they would have to go around. That disappointment had only lasted for the hours it had taken them to skirt around its edges. The pair stood on the edge of the lake-turned-pit, the rocky depths to one side, and the wastes to the other. In following their map, seeking to get to the other side to resume their journey towards what they hoped was a village, they’d found another marker, something both ridiculously simple yet very promising. A wooden pole was embedded in the ground, at least ten paces tall and flying a solid colored red banner. “It’s cloth,” Applejack said, pursing her lips. “And it’s barely frayed. It’s new.” Fluttershy’s mane blew past her face and the wind whistled in her ears as she stared at the simple yet vivid strip of cloth. Yesterday, she’d been worrying about their supplies and about finding water, concerned that the heat during the day was quickly becoming almost as big a problem as the chill during the dark of night. All those concerns were evaporating under the glare of hope, now. “And there’s another!” Applejack whooped. Fluttershy shook her head to clear it and followed Applejack’s gaze to where another strip of red was barely visible at the edge of vision. She glanced skywards before stealing a look over her shoulder, tracing their steps. “It’s going the right way,” Fluttershy breathed, her wings spreading of their own accord. “It’s a road!” “Well then. Would be rude not to follow it and see where it goes then,” Applejack said, grinning back at her. Suddenly, the days were too short. There was a foal-like glee that came with passing each of the markers, and it became a game, trying to cover more ground every day. Without fail, just as they reached one of the high-flying red banners they would spot another far off in the distance. While they had still not seen any other ponies, having a direction and a vague sense of purpose was by far enough. Fluttershy found herself galloping alongside Applejack, running for the sake of it. There was no rush, no sense of urgency, yet still they ran. The wasteland changed still. Vegetation became even more sparse, and where the ground underhoof wasn’t comprised of dried and cracking soil, it was rock. Though the wastes were otherwise relatively flat, the little markers led them on past jagged rock formations and down through gaping chasms. One day they trotted along the floor of a great rent in the wasteland where they could barely spot the sun and sky above, only to pick their way over a hill of stone the next day, where one misstep would send them tumbling down to the rocky ground below. Despite the near-barren soil, there was life to be found here, too. Far from the dead lands of the valley, life wasn’t absent so much as that it just hid well. Lizards and other small creatures scurried about in the shadows, hiding from the ever-hotter sun, and while no rain fell, small oases dotted the land. Plants were dry in the harsh land, but they adapted. It wasn’t many days after they had started chasing the flag-trail when they realized they had to pace themselves. The days were simply getting too hot, just like the nights saw them under their cloaks rather than atop them. “Weirdest winter I ever had,” Applejack muttered as they crested what wasn’t so much a hill as a small swelling. The highest point had yet another of the markers embedded in it, and they had stopped while looking for the next. Fluttershy squinted and leaned forward as she tried to make sense of what she saw in the distance. “I mean, and this is just me thinkin’, but could it be that the seasons are going backwards here?” Applejack continued at Fluttershy’s side. After a moment, she began rummaging through her saddlebags. “Where’s that journal again?” “Applejack?” Fluttershy said, bringing a hoof up to keep her mane away from her face. “I think I see something.” “Well, good. Was wondering if they weren’t getting harder to... find,” Applejack replied, her voice trailing off as she, too, squinted. “Is that smoke?” “And buildings,” Fluttershy affirmed, spreading her wings together with a smile. Where the faint haze of smoke rose into the air, the horizon was jagged and irregular, but they were no rocks. “Buildings and smoke. It’s not a ruin, it’s the village from the map.” “Village nothing,” Applejack muttered breathlessly. “That’s a town or maybe even a city.” “Maybe we can make it before nightfall?” Fluttershy suggested, and she had barely finished her sentence before Applejack cantered down the gentle slope. “We will if you catch up!” Applejack called back to her. The pegasus giggled and took wing, soaring after the farmpony before she got too far ahead. The remaining distance was eaten up quicker than a dandelion baguette after a full day in the garden. Applejack kicked up sandy dust as she ran, every once in awhile giving a loud whoop, and Fluttershy did her best to keep up. The heat made her work up quite a sweat, but it was impossible to stop when every wingbeat and every step gave detail to the buildings ahead. First, they could make out the tallest buildings. Some spires and towers were taller than even the Ponyville clocktower, but more than the occasional giant, the surprising thing was the spread. After hours of speeding towards the townscape, it had eaten the horizon. Applejack finally slowed down, and Fluttershy alighted to fall in step at her side when they finally approached the outskirts. Hundreds, if not thousands of low sandstone buildings waited ahead, and in the spaces between them more abodes had been erected, as if though wasting space was a crime. Shapes moved between the houses, and the faint din of civilization reached their ears even as they watched from afar, still a good league or two away. Applejack halted, and Fluttershy was glad of it. For the past few minutes, she’d been wanting to stop, too. It wasn’t out of some vague dread or supernatural wrongness, but rather, a simpler and more casual anticipation. Perhaps there was a little fear thrown in there for good measure, too. It was an awfully big city. If she flew up high as she dared, perhaps she’d find that it stretched on and on for as far as the eye could see. “No guards. Why ain’t they comin’ to meet us?” Applejack asked, clearly asking nopony at all rather than Fluttershy. It was a good question, though. The sun was already merging with the horizon to the west. The darkness was descending, and in response, the city ahead lit up with innumerable lights. For a little while, as the evening fell in earnest, Fluttershy said nothing, content to watch the soft glow of lanterns and other, stronger lights bloom upon the busy city. “Um, do you think they’ll mind if we just come in?” Fluttershy finally asked. “If they don’t have any walls like Canterlot, maybe it’s because it’s okay to just enter? Nopony runs out to stop ponies from visiting Ponyville.” “I suppose,” Applejack agreed, but the farmpony made no move. Fluttershy scratched at the ground. “Are you a little scared too? Because it’s been so long since we’ve had anypony to talk to, I don’t know what I’ll say.” “Just be honest,” Applejack replied, flashing a smile that slid off her face as quick as it had come. “And yeah. Fine. Me too,” she added with a dry laugh. “Let’s go, then.” “I don’t think they are ponies,” Fluttershy whispered. The shapes that moved about the buildings grew, and as she spoke, the words became truth. The pair had barely passed some outlying, empty shacks by before they saw the first of the town’s inhabitants clearly. Along the flat rooftops walked a creature much like a pony except for its very long neck. Its features were fine and it wore a tie and a hat that Rarity would surely have approved of—in that it looked like nothing Fluttershy had ever seen before—but that strangeness paled in comparison to the sheer length of its neck. Still forging ahead and craning her neck to try to follow it, Fluttershy had no sooner lost track of the odd creature in the darkness when she spotted another down on ground level. This one had a shorter, more sensible neck, but possessed an odd lump on its back, and its head reminded her more of the sheep back on Applejack’s farm than anything else. They were amidst the buildings and within the city proper before she could even protest, and here were dozens and hundreds more. More of the long-necked spotted creatures walked among the cobbled streets with precise and slow steps, and the humped ones, some with two humps instead of one, wound their way through doorless portals and across the bustling city in the artificial light. Slight, prong-horned creatures that barely reached Fluttershy’s muzzle slipped between them and bounced through the streets, and smaller ones still were present, some of them without horns at all. Fluttershy pressed herself close to Applejack as the inhabitants of the strange city washed around them like a tide, conversation spoken and whispered becoming a monotonous susurrus. Her throat tightened as she felt the tendrils of panic brush past, but it was kept at bay by two little things. One was Applejack’s presence, the farmpony walking on with her head low, pressing back against her. The other was the fact that very few of these creatures seemed to care about them in the least. They were almost completely ignored. “Guess there ain’t much of a welcoming committee,” Applejack commented. She didn’t have to speak very loudly to be heard. None of the citizens seemed to be very noisy, giving the streets the air of a cafeteria on a lazy Sunday rather than the din of the ongoing shouting contest called Canterlot. “I suppose. I think I heard somepo—um, someone say something in Equestrian,” Fluttershy replied, accidentally and briefly locking eyes with one of the humped creatures, who, for its part, raised an eyebrow and watched her curiously until she averted her eyes. “We could try asking where we are. And where to go, too.” “I was thinking the same thing,” Applejack replied, pointing ahead. “Seems there’s something of a market ahead. A mite bit more polite to ask somepony who’s not busy than accosting people in the street.” “Oh. Of course,” Fluttershy agreed, hoping the relative dark would hide her blush. “Sorry.” “For what? Oh come on!” Applejack laughed, a rich and full laughter that cut through the noise as she grinned over at her, making Fluttershy’s cheeks burn twice as hot. “Sugar, you’ve saved my flank twice already since we got in this here big ol’ mess, and once we meet people again, you’re going back to being... to—” Fluttershy looked up from between the strands of her poor unbrushed mane. Applejack’s voice had petered out, and the farmpony was frowning as her eyes roamed the crowd. Now, they had their attention, numerous sets of eyes trained in their direction. Fluttershy drew closer to Applejack once more, but the earth mare wasn’t quite so easily cowed. “What? Y’all ain’t seen ponies before?” Applejack asked, but those she glared at drew back or averted their gazes. A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd, and some shook their heads. “What in the hay was that all about?” Applejack muttered. “I really haven’t seen a single pony yet. Maybe they think we look odd,” Fluttershy suggested, but it was hard to believe that was all there was to it. They had gotten occasional curious glances as they stepped into the city, but there had been fear in their eyes just now. “It’s that, or them bein’ deadly afraid of laughter,” Applejack replied with a snort, putting words to Fluttershy’s thoughts. The earth mare wore a mighty frown, and Fluttershy could have sworn those who walked near them sped up, hastening to get out of their way. The street opened up onto a large open space circled by the glassless, doorless sandstone houses that defined the cityscape. Here, even as the night darkened, the city refused to sleep. Every corner was brightly illuminated, be it by firefly or oil lantern, and a mess of stalls and tents had been erected to fill it. This was no Ponyville market day, and it wasn’t just for the merchants’ lack of yelling at customers or each other, but rather, the sheer variety of what was being sold and done. Here, a strange humped creature—a lady, Fluttershy thought for no reason she could discern—was performing card tricks for little nuggets of silver. There, one of the long-necked spotted ones fried pancakes on a flat oven with a deft hoof while his customers watched, and right next to him, three of the smaller horned ones sat in a circle upon a silken mat, horns glowing with magic but otherwise doing nothing Fluttershy could make sense of. “That one?” Fluttershy tore her eyes away from a small group of creatures who seemed to be having tea in the middle of the street, a prong-horned creature magically heating water while the others chatted in the lamplight. Applejack was giving her an odd look. “Sorry, what?” Fluttershy asked. “Figured we could ask that little critter over by that stall,” Applejack said in a voice suggesting that maybe she was repeating herself. Fluttershy cleared her throat and nodded trying to make her mane lie right as they made for the stall her friend had indicated. A two-horned creature not much smaller than they stood behind a well-decorated stall selling bolts of silk in every color imaginable—and a few more. “Howdy,” Applejack said, dipping her head. Fluttershy put on her sweetest smile and took up position next to her, while the slender, brown-furred male on the other side perked up. “Finest silk this end of town,” he replied. “Silver, gold or barter, all is fair, sir or madam.” “Uh, madam, I’m quite sure,” Applejack retorted. Fluttershy stifled a giggle. “You don’t get many mares out here, I reckon, but you speak Equestrian just fine, huh?” “I speak the common tongue, as well as kiang and general meso. I meant no offense, but I haven’t seen any of your kind, madam,” he allowed, bowing his head. His horns both lit up with a blue sheen, and a bolt of purpur silk obscured him from view as he unrolled it between them. “Now, any ladies fine as you two would look twice as well and keep twice as cool at day, warm at night if you—” “Uh. You’re speaking Equestrian right now,” Applejack interrupted. The silk lifted to hover up above the stall, once more revealing the now subtly frowning creature. “Common,” he repeated. “It really isn’t very important,” Fluttershy interjected. “We just have a few questions, if you’re free.” “Why’n the hay would you call it ‘common’?” Applejack asked, but the brown-furred creature thankfully chose to focus on Fluttershy instead. Obviously sensing he wasn’t getting a sale, he gently put down the cloth. “If this is to be a non-profitable chat, then introductions are in order. I am Jahalin,” he said with a very weak smile and a quieter sigh still. “Your first time in the Bazaar, perhaps?” “Oh yes,” Fluttershy said, nodding. “Our first time in the entire city, actually. We’ve never been here before, and, um, if it’s not too rude, I at least haven’t seen anyone like you before—oh, goodness, and my name is Fluttershy,” she added. “Applejack,” the farmpony grumped, drawing a concerned look from Jahalin. It might be that he was a rather gentle sort, or that he disliked it when ponies got upset, and it was easy to sympathize with that. Fluttershy cleared her throat. “Oh. You are not jesting?” Jahalin asked, drawing back. “Surely—no, you do not seem like fools or jesters. I am one of the pronged folk, a gazelle. Most of us are from the Jandeeri plains. You are from very far abroad, then, but you look ill equipped to travel. What mystery is this?” “We’re ponies,” Applejack shrugged. “From Equestria. Now that’s what we wanted to ask about—” Jahalin raised a dainty hoof, cutting Applejack off. “And now I have made a fool out of myself in thinking you were anything but.” “Um, excuse me?” Fluttershy asked. “You are not ponies, obviously,” Jahalin retorted with a shrug, turning to smooth the silken bolts that lined his little stall. “If you have come to waste my time, I would bid you farewell.” “What do you mean we ain’t ponies?” Applejack asked, scowling, but the gazelle made no indication he’d heard her other than a subtle roll of his eyes. “Maybe we could ask somepony else?” Fluttershy suggested, shaking her head. “I don’t think he’s going to be very helpful.” “Sugar, I can deal with ‘not helpful’. But being called a liar? That won’t stand!” Applejack said, raising her voice. “Now this here fellow’s gonna apologize before I take another step!” “I don’t think he will,” Fluttershy sighed, but before she could think of how to get Applejack to move along or defuse the situation, she noticed again that subtle shift around them. A pair of gazelles playing dice on the cobblestones nearby were giving them nervous glances, and creatures shopping in nearby stalls were moving away. As Applejack went on, the area around them was becoming increasingly desolate. “You’re saying you ain’t never seen a pony before, and we’re standing here in front of you!” Applejack spat, stomping a hoof. Jahalin’s eyes were wide, the slight creature backing away on the other side of the stall. “Applejack, stop!” Fluttershy called, poking her in the side. The second Applejack turned to face her, Jahalin bolted off in an odd hopping gait, lost between the innumerable stalls and tents. “What?” she snapped, her expression slowly mellowing as she looked around. They were almost completely alone, and those few creatures they could see—long-necks, humped ones or gazelles—were all leaving the market in a hurried walk, heads down. “Hey, where’re y’all going?” Applejack called. “I think you scared them,” Fluttershy replied. “If I somehow cleared a marketplace by stomping my hoof and yelling a bit, there ain’t gonna be much competition in the market when I get back home,” Applejack suggested, licking her lips and laying her ears flat. “Seriously, what the hay is doing on?” “I think they were upset when we laughed earlier, too,” Fluttershy said, stepping closer to Applejack. “I don’t like this.” “We agree on that at least,” the orange mare mumbled. “Guess we ought to get going, ask someplace else. I’ll try to keep my trap shut, huh?” “Come with me.” Fluttershy jumped, startled into a hover, and Applejack rounded on the strange figure that had snuck up on them. A creature of familiar equine form stood not three paces behind them, garbed in a thin white hooded cloak. Despite his clothing, it was plain he looked very much like Zecora back home in Ponyville. The striped zebra gave them a severe look. “I know you may not trust me, but I think you’ll be safer if you follow,” he said. “And we’re expected to go along with that?” Applejack asked. Despite her words, the farmpony was glancing about and shifting her weight. She gave Fluttershy a questioning look, wordlessly asking her opinion. “Please,” Fluttershy intoned. “I think it’s a good idea, and he doesn’t look dangerous.” “Good,” the zebra retorted. “I thank you for the trust. Quickly now, follow me, but don’t run, and don’t make a fuss. Can I trust you to do that?” “Can you trust us to walk—what in the hay is that kinda question meant to be?” Applejack snapped, rolling her eyes. Fluttershy sighed. “Ah. Right. Fair point. Let’s give it a try,” Applejack whispered, her ears pinned to the back of her head. Wordlessly, their newfound guide led them on. They quickly left behind the deserted market, winding through narrow streets lined with brightly lit sandstone and granite houses and the occasional larger, ornate building. Before long they were once again a part of the throng that seemed to be one large whole, filling every street. While it was obvious that Applejack was doing her very best to keep still, it seemed almost more suspicious to make no noise at all. “He doesn’t rhyme,” Fluttershy whispered. “Who?” Applejack asked. “Him,” Fluttershy added with a meaningful glance at the white cloak that they followed through the dusk. “Oh. Guess he ain’t exactly like Zecora, huh. D’you figure they all usually rhyme then?” “‘He’ is not hard of hearing,” their guide said without turning. Fluttershy blushed, and Applejack coughed, taking a sudden interest in a patio lined with curious little palm-like plants as they passed. “Regardless, speaking in verse and rhyme, it is not something we do all the time. It is a game of sorts we zebra play, exercising the brain and minding what you say,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Who is Zecora, if I may ask?” “She’s a friend of ours from back home. She always speaks in rhyme,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sorry, she’s the only zebra we know.” “Always? That’s admirable. Works great until you hit upon certain words in common. Easier in our native language, by far,” he chuckled. “I love oranges far too much, even though they’re a rare treat here.” “It’s called Equestrian, consarn it,” Applejack muttered. “An’ everypony knows oranges ain’t worth half an apple.” “And here we are now,” the zebra announced, stepping off the street and slipping past some smaller, presumably younger, humped creatures. Applejack and Fluttershy exchanged glances before following, but none of the natives seemed to pay them much heed as they mounted a short wooden stair around the outside of a two-story sandstone house. The zebra’s abode had no door, but rather, a door frame with heavy cloth that blocked out most of the din. When he slipped past the curtains to step inside, Applejack strode after him, and Fluttershy followed before her friend’s tail disappeared between the folds. The single room was spacious yet cramped all at the same time. The large windows and the small balcony door all let in the ambient light of the city night, but when the zebra roused the fireflies of a lamp by the door, shadows danced over a room more cluttered than Fluttershy’s garden shed. Here were all manner of odds and ends; precious few books, but small mechanical devices, maps, rocks, instruments and ornaments big and small. “It’s a bit of a mess,” the zebra shrugged, pulling off his cloak. Like Zecora, he wore jewelry, his ears adorned with rings of silver, but his dark grey mane was cut very short, and his flank adorned with an odd set of slashes in lieu of a cutie mark that meant nothing to Fluttershy. Before the silence could settle, he broke into a sudden smile, entirely at odds with his earlier muted tone and behaviour. “Right then. Introductions, then explanations, perhaps?” he asked, his voice given a lilt so strong, he was halfway to song. “Applejack,” the mare so named said with a reluctant smile of her own before nudging Fluttershy in the side. The pegasus jumped, only now realizing she’d been staring, completely missing her cue. “And this here is my friend, Fluttershy. I reckon we might owe you, but that comes after the explainin’.” “Most probably! I am Tadar, and this is where I sometimes live. You have walked into a bit of a mess, my friends.” “Uh huh,” Applejack said. “Mind explaining that exactly? Why do I have the feelin’ I grew three horns overnight? Y’all are awfully dull colored here, is it me bein’ orange what’s making everyone spit their bits?” she asked. “Sometimes live?” Fluttershy belatedly echoed. Tadar looked at them each in turn, grinning. “That I only sometimes live here—” he said, nodding at Fluttershy with a clatter of the silver he wore before turning to Applejack again. “Is why I can answer you.” “You have transgressed, broken the most sacred law of the Bazaar. You let your blood run. You showed emotion, and in public, of all things.” “You’re pulling our legs,” Applejack said with a bark of laughter. “Getting a bit riled up is a crime here?” “They did get scared when you were happy earlier, too, remember,” Fluttershy said. “Indeed you are right, friend. It is not the anger that they fear, it is any display of emotion. It will get you shunned, and, lately, hunted,” Tadar agreed with a nod. Applejack shook her head mutely on the spot, but all Tadar offered was an apologetic smile and a shrug. In the silence that followed, Fluttershy was drawn to the nearby windows. Now that she knew, it was obvious. Outside and down below, the entire city seemed covered in a blanket of polite, neutral murmurs. In Ponyville, even at night, there was always something making noise, be that an excited yell, foals playing or somepony singing in joy. Here, there was nothing that deviated from a light conversational tone. “It is not just law, you must understand,” Tadar went on. “It is culture. Even in the privacy of their homes, those native to the Bazaar and the surrounding savannas and deserts will rarely if ever show emotion. As for me, I am a traveller. Regardless, it is enough for outsiders to understand and respect it. They do not have to agree with it. Transgressing risks the Prince becoming involved, and as of late, that is dire news indeed.” “As of late?” Fluttershy asked. “It wasn’t always so, that guards were this, hm, zealous in their pursuit. Last time I was here in the Bazaar, culture was the better word. Now, it has become law first, and it is enforced by guards rather than being a norm amongst the people,” he finished, looking particularly sour. Applejack puffed out her cheeks and slowly exhaled, finally giving a single nod. “Alright. I guess the first question is whether or not we’re in trouble, and then—” “It’s not really okay, is it?” Fluttershy asked. Applejack merely raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to go on with a dip of her head. “You mean that everypony—um, I mean everyone in the entire city, they never fight?” she asked. “Disputes are settled through rational debate and, where that fails, conflict is resolved through games or in court. It’s a rather complex affair, but it works,” Tadar said with a lopsided smile. “But they don’t love? They’re never nice to each other? How can they live like that if they—I mean, a law that stops them from being happy?” she demanded, something deep inside of her protesting against the notion. It sounded all too familiar; to know you could at any one point reach out and be happy, but that there should be a risk attached. To have the possibility of happiness, yet never seize it. A full spectrum of colors clouded her vision, yet no matter how much she blinked, they wouldn’t go away. “Ah, no,” the zebra retorted, forestalling any further words with a gesture. “You misunderstand. This is how it has been here for longer than recorded history. If they could not be happy, they would never have survived, yet the Dunefolk, scattered as though they are, have prospered.” “I don’t understand,” Fluttershy said. “I’m sorry, but you said—” “I said they do not show emotion. To feel them is different entirely. Out there, there are wonderful camels and giraffes all.” He gestured towards the balcony with a fond smile. “Loving couples, kind-hearted people and riotously funny comedians, they simply hide it inside.” “Oh,” Fluttershy voiced, shrinking back. “I think it’s still a little hard to understand.” “It still is for me to this day,” Tadar chuckled. “I never shared their convictions, but I do see how they work. I comprehend them, even if I do not sympathize. It took me a year or two.” “Which means we gotta ask, why?” Applejack demanded. “Why do they do this, and why’re you different? Not that I mind, because I reckon both me and Fluttershy appreciate somepony normal to talk to, but I still wanna know.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a little bow. “And while it’s a good question, I think perhaps it would be best if I head right outside and buy us a platter of figs and dates to eat while I explain. Can I trust you to stay here for a short while?” “Followed you here, didn’t we?” Applejack asked. This earned her a nod, Tadar quickly donning his cloak and disappearing outside, leaving the two ponies alone in the curious zebra’s home.