//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: H A Z E // by Bandy //------------------------------// Throughout history, earth ponies have been consistently regarded as having drawn a magical short straw. Their powers are mostly intangible, unlike their cousins in the other two tribes, and as such are sometimes regarded as lessers. This is backwards thinking, of course—earth ponies have exactly as much magic as they need in order to perform the vital tasks required of them to keep the empire running. Their place at the foundation of our society’s pyramid is essential to its continued survival. There are unconfirmed reports, however, of earth pony magic developing far beyond its traditional manifestations, facilitated by a natural enhancement known as “mother sky” mushrooms. These mushrooms are, allegedly, able to induce unnatural strength, limited future sight, and even the ability to fly. Such reports are factually devoid of substance and dangerous to our continued growth as an empire. Ponies overheard disseminating these falsehoods are to be considered anti-state actors and punished by summary imprisonment without trial. —Senator Giesu The pre-dawn mist coalesced into a snow leopard. Hypha froze, squinting against the fog. The shape was no more than fifty yards away and slightly downhill from him. It glided along a ridge, then darted through the same thicket of stonewood trees Hypha had just walked through a few minutes before. The snow leopard stopped suddenly. Its long tail flattened. The permanent frown on its face deepened as it sniffed the air. Hypha ducked behind a nearby tree and held his breath. His bright orange robes stuck out like a signal flag against the monochrome mountainside and flapped noisily in the breeze. He bunched them up in his hooves and willed the wind not to blow. The wind ignored him. A fierce mountain gust blew from behind, sending his scent downhill. The snow leopard turned his way, its pale eyes blinking slowly. It could probably see him. No doubt it could smell him. Hypha had been hiking around the mountain all morning. He was one big sweaty orange target in a sea of featureless white snow and black leafless trees. Hypha’s mind raced. From the satchel bag on his side, he slipped a short knife and held it in front of him. Any second now, the leopard would leap from the trees and race towards him. The massive paws acted like snowshoes, distributing the cat’s weight evenly so it could run over snow instead of having to push through it. Hypha had no such advantage. His big earth pony hooves would punch right through the snow and bog him down if he ran. If he stayed put, he’d get one, maybe two jabs with the knife before the leopard ripped him apart. That was when he noticed a familiar cluster of brown mushrooms sprouting next to the tree trunk. He let out a cry of laughter before he could stop himself. The leopard’s ears twitched. Uh-oh. Without taking his eyes off the beast, he leaned down and sniffed the mushrooms. Earthy, almost garlicy, tinged with the faintest hint of sulfur. These were mother sky mushrooms. The exact kind he’d been sent out here to find. The wind shifted. The mist lifted. Hypha saw the snow leopard clearly, its fur and scars and eyes and teeth. It took another step towards him. Then it lunged. Hypha flew into motion. He flung open his satchel and hacked at the stems of the mushrooms with his knife. They looked frail, but their deceptively rubbery texture lost him precious seconds sawing away. The leopard cleared the trees. It flew over the snowbanks at top speed, kicking up plumes of powder behind it. Hypha finally cut through the stems and shoved them into his bag just as the leopard closed the distance. Its eyes were wide and frantic, its ribs visible through its thick fur, its paw pads black and cracked. It lashed out with enough force to break bones. Hypha leapt into the air. The Stonewood mountains on which Hypha and the snow leopard met were not the tallest, nor the widest, nor the most impressive in the world. But they were the only mountains that could float. Ancient magic ran through the mountains all the way to their cores, permeating everything around it. The same magic that kept the mountains afloat could keep an earth pony afloat, too. The snow leopard’s claws brushed the bottom of Hypha’s tail and passed through cleanly. Hypha hovered ten yards above the snow leopard as it wheeled around. Even with its hundred thousand collective years of animal intelligence, it hadn’t prepared for the possibility of a flying earth pony. It coiled its body like a spring, then jumped at Hypha. Hypha pushed himself higher. The mist thickened, swallowing the snow leopard along with the rest of the mountainside. Almost instantly, a stitch stabbed his side. Every muscle in his body tensed in exertion. Sweat formed and froze on the small of his back. Flying was work, and he was weak. He had to make a move, or he’d lose altitude and plop right back down into the paws of the snow leopard. He banked left and flew along the base of a big stone outcropping, putting a hundred yards and forty meters of sheer vertical cliff face between him and the leopard’s last location. He made it to the top of the ridge before collapsing onto the rocky ground. He was no longer on the menu, at least for the moment, but the exertion of even a short flight left him spent and defenseless. His heart hammered and his breath came out in vaporous puffs.The thin air burned his throat all the way down to his lungs. He wished he’d had the foresight to escape down the mountain instead of up. As wrecked as he was, he knew he couldn't stay long. The leopard couldn’t see him anymore, but it might still be able to smell him. He needed to get home. Before he set off, he checked his satchel to make sure the mushrooms were still there. He pulled one out and held it up to his nose, breathing in the mycelial smell. Pure elation swelled in his chest. He didn’t have any energy left to shout for joy, so he pumped his hoof into the air instead. On hoof, the route down the mountain would take approximately two hours, plus another thirty minutes of skirting the area where the snow leopard was likely to be. Way too dangerous and boring. Instead, Hypha took a deep breath, got a good running start, and flung himself off the cliff’s edge. This flight was significantly easier than the last one. Instead of fighting against the thin air to gain altitude, all Hypha had to do was keep himself banked at the correct angle and let gravity do the work for him. His core still ached with exertion, but it was nowhere near the full-body fire from before. Shoulda done this the first time, he thought to himself. The mountain flew by beneath him as a single uninterrupted blur. The untouched snow gave way to a series of rocky outcroppings flanked by icefalls.More stonewood groves clung to the rocky earth. Further out, the hulking outline of the mountain range hovered on the horizon. Sunrise hadn’t yet hit this part of the mountain, but rays of light snuck through the gap between the floating mountains and the ground far below. Hypha descended into one of the many banks of perpetual fog cling to the mountainside. Through the haze, he made out the shape of a temple hewn into the mountainside, rows of buildings, tilled land, and a tall rock wall shielding it from prying eyes below. Just like the snow leopard, the monastery complex of Roseroot coalesced from the fog. ——- Flying was one thing. Landing made Hypha wish he’d stayed on that ridge with the snow leopard. As usual, he came in way too fast. Slowing down was perhaps the one and only thing more difficult for Hypha than getting airborn in the first place. No matter how hard he flexed his magic, he simply couldn’t lose enough speed. He grabbed his robes and flung them out to help slow his descent. He didn’t feel himself slow down at all, but he knew the difference between a bruise and a broken neck could boil down to an imperceptible difference in speed. Hypha held on. There was a clear platform of soft earth directly in front of the temple that wasn’t, technically speaking, a good spot to land. But it was better than striking the side of the mountain or careening into a building. At the last second, he pulled up. His hooves touched the ground first, followed by the side of his head. Dirt flew into his nose and mouth. He tumbled end over end, finally coming to a stop a few yards in front of the temple stairs. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard an older pony laughing. “Very interesting technique. Where did you learn it?” Hypha groaned into the dirt. “Oh, you came up with it yourself? Very clever.” Hypha tried standing up, but his legs went wobbly like a newborn fawn’s. Gravity wasn’t done with him yet. “Consider decreasing your speed earlier in your approach, instead of relying on your robes to slow your descent at the last second.” Hypha rose shakily to his hooves. “Thank you for your wisdom, Elder Cumulus.” Elder Cumulus was the reason Hypha equated age with wisdom. He threw the runner of his sky-blue robe over his shoulder and let out a wheezy laugh. With the help of a walking stick, he stood up from the stairs and made his way over to Hypha. Cumulus’s smile was the kind that transcended time and place. You saw it in other people when they were at their happiest. “You’re the second one in,” Cumulus said. Second. A frown creased Hypha’s face. This was the fourth day in a row another acolyte, Wrender, had beaten him. It wasn’t a contest, strictly speaking. But Hypha had spent his entire childhood and early adolescence comfortably dominating the other acolytes in mushroom hunting. Was he losing his edge? Cumulus seemed to sense something was amiss, so he changed the subject. “Did you find any mushrooms?” The pain on Hypha’s face melted away. He stood up straight and pulled the mushroom caps from his bag. One of the caps had been dented in the landing. Cumulus didn’t seem to care. “Five. Well done.” He tucked the mushrooms reverently into his robe pocket. “A little bird told me they’re making your favorite stew in the cafeteria.” Visions of lentils and fresh baked bread danced in Hypha’s vision. The pains plaguing him suddenly didn’t feel so bad after all. “Thank you, Cumulus.” “And remember, you’re training with me and Hirruck this afternoon. Don’t be late.” “If I do well in the training, maybe I could participate in the next mushroom ritual.” Cumulus laughed. “Patience is one of the many virtues you must cultivate before you can participate.” With that, the old monk turned and ambled his way up the temple stairs. Hypha watched him pause at the center of the temple dias and extend one foreleg up to the sky. Then he drew it inward with a sharp slashing motion. The air crackled and condensed along the old monk’s hooftip into a glowing blue orb. Cumulus drew a glowing circle in the air, then filled it in with a series of complex runes. The runes glowed faintly, then vanished. The temple trembled. Cumulus stretched his shoulders and smiled. The temple doors, ten lengths tall and made of solid stonewood, weighing more than two tons each, swung open, moved only by the elder monk’s magic. Hypha forced down the urge to gawk. Cumulus, utterly unphased, strolled inside. Only once the temple doors swung shut again did Hypha tear himself away and take off towards the monastery mess hall. The smell of something warm and spicy and wonderful diffused into the morning air around the multistory mud mortar building. His mood soured somewhat at the thought of Wrender sitting at the table by the door, breakfast half-devoured, wearing that same smirk he always wore when he beat Hypha at something. This was going to be embarrassing. Maybe he should have let the snow leopard get him. The sun broke the craggy eastern horizon, Hypha’s second sunrise of the morning. Light draped the snow capped mountains in a rich orange robe.