//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: The High Road to Ruins // Story: The Forest of the Golden Abalone // by Unwhole Hole //------------------------------// The rainstorm had grown in intensity, rising into a thunderstorm high in the atmosphere—but without the assistance of weather technicians, it had failed to burn itself out in a violent, consistent downpour. It stayed up in the sky, with occasional lightning flashing silently between the looming clouds. On the ground, the best that came down was an indeterminate mist. High in the hills, there was no fog, but the wind was growing—never strong enough to be truly dangerous, but always just enough to be threateningly violent. Fluttershy shivered, pulling the makeshift clothing Snails had given her around her more tightly. As much as she detested storms, she was still a Pegasus. She had not followed her father’s calling to work in the factories, but she had visited him on hundreds of occasions, bringing him lunch or marveling at the painting of the snowflakes—or staring horrified at the rainbow-presses, unable to look away from the sight she was forced to behold. Snails, though, seemed far more concerned. His demeanor, which Fluttershy had once considered dopey but now saw as more a quiet resolution, had shifted to one of obvious paranoia. Fluttershy recognized it because paranoia was an almost universal state for her. It had served her well in Royal politics, but she hated it regardless—but more importantly understood the signs. He was looking around and constantly jumping at every noise. His eyes were often upward at the trees, or toward the skies. He would often jump and, sometimes, he seemed to see something that truly disturbed him—something Fluttershy herself was not trained to see. Some subtle sign, an indication of the presence of something gravely concerning. She did not ask him. She knew that he would not tell her—because it was very likely that even he did not know what he was jumping at. That, and she did not especially want to know lest she be afraid too. Fluttershy stopped. In the distance, she heard a sound like thunder, and she looked out over the valley. Although there was little light through the overcast skies, she saw the flashes of magical ionization, and saw trees falling in the farthest distance—and beyond that, past the misty lowlands they had already passed, she saw a dark shape hovering in the sky. “That’s weird…” Snails stopped. “What?” “They have that big ship, but they’re not flying it in here. They’re using the mechs to go through the forest.” Snails shook his head. “Bad idea. You don’t want to go through that part. It’s better up here until we get past the swamp, eh? But I guess if you have big mechs, you don’t really care.” Fluttershy sighed. She envisioned what it must be like. To have twenty tons of iron, platinum, and crystal enclosing her, keeping her warm and safe from virtually any threat. In a cozy, small, dark room, seeing any danger contained in the facets of a single tiny viewing crystal. Her enhanced body able to crush anything that would dare to attempt to scare her into absolute oblivion. Which left her with the realization that they were, in fact, ponies. They were in those machines, cutting their way through the forest, stomping everything in their way. “I don’t think they’re bad ponies,” she attempted to assert to herself. Snails nodded slowly. “Even Tuo’s not that bad, once you get to know him. Lawful evil, sure, but not a bad guy.” He looked out at the dreadnought on the horizon. “Not sure about that, though. Looks expensive. Maybe he doesn’t want to break it?” Fluttershy stiffened, slowly turning toward Snails. “Break it on what?” Snail’s face scrunched. “Snails. What do you know?” Still scrunched, he slowly admitted “Not much. But…” “But what?” He hesitated. “Flight here is probably a bad idea. And he knows that.” “How?” “Because...the second aim of my dissertation deals with legends about this forest. And it’s published. So…” He sighed. “It’s my fault he’s here.” “Assuming he was the one who read it.” Snails seemed confused. Fluttershy turned back to the forest. “What’s down there that he’d be so afraid of?” Snails shook his head. He started walking and, with his magic, pushed away some of the spiny shrubs, sending thorny snails fleeing across his skin. Behind it, affixed to the rocky crags of the hill above them, was an ominous structure. A dark and strange-wrought redoubt, a twisted tower of oddly familiar architecture that seemed to grow from the rock itself. Fluttershy was not an aficionado for architecture, but she knew Nightmare War structures when she saw them. “There’s bad stuff down there,” said Snails, his voice quavering slightly. “I’ve never been past this tower. Found it, and knew it was bad to go further. Think that’s what whoever made it made it for. Because the rest of the ruins? They don’t look like that one. A lot older.” He looked at Fluttershy and gulped. “Down there...it’s bad. They’re things that crawl, and things that fly, and things that creep around on the ground…” “I’ve befriended everything you just described more times than you can count.” Snails shook his head, and looked backward at the looming, abandoned tower behind them. “Not like these.” “I still have to try.” Fluttershy followed the path, which started to slide down into the end of the valley, moving past rocks stained deeply with gouges produced by some unknown substance or activity. Snails, reluctantly, followed her. “Is there any way to stop him?” she asked. “You know him, don’t you?” Snails nodded, then paused and shook his head. “We’ve met. More than once. But we’re not exactly in the same age group, you know?” Fluttershy frowned. “That’s odd. I’ve met almost every villain in Equestria my own age. And reformed...most of them.” Snails shook his head. “But he’s not older. Other way.” Fluttershy was still confused. “What do you mean?” Snails shrugged. The distraction was helping his fear, and probably helping Fluttershy as well, but she still felt a creeping sensation that she would rather not know what was actually going on. “Oh! I know! Analogy! He’s as younger to me as you are older.” Fluttershy stopped. “That can’t be,” she said. “He’d be, what? Fourteen? Fifteen?” Snails nodded. “But he’s HUGE!” Snails continued to nod. “He was already that big when I met him. Six years ago. At the University." He paused, frowning. "I don’t think he’s a normal pony.” Fluttershy shivered. “Is there a way to stop him?” “Dunno,” said Snails. “Sometimes. Works best if you trap him somewhere, but he always finds his way out eventually. Or if you can convince him to go away. But that one’s harder.” “Buck,” sighed Fluttershy. “This is really more a Rainbow Dash thing...or a Twilight thing. I don’t know how to deal with this.” “Aren’t immortal wizards a common problem? I figured you’d get at least four, five a year.” “Sure. But I don’t deal with the wizards. That's more Twilight's thing. I deal with...I don’t know, raccoons stealing trash, or disputes between opossums, or trying to convince parasitic worms to not be so parasitic…” Snails nodded. “Then I guess the only thing we can do is win.” “Win?” “Get to the abalone before he does. And...hide it? Get it to safety?” “We can’t disrupt its natural habitat. It could be incredibly fragile.” “I know,” groaned Snails, “but we may not have a choice. It might not be safe here. Not anymore.” Fluttershy looked out at the forest. The trail where the mechs were moving was increasingly obvious—but they had in one day far surpassed the distance they could move in the lowlands. The sound of magic weapons was growing louder, the firing more frequent. “It doesn’t look like they can go so fast down there.” “Probably not,” agreed Snails. “That’s why we walked. One pony can go faster than a big machine.” “Then maybe we can get in front and…” Fluttershy shivered. She could not believe she was about to suggest it. Her voice increased in octave to a resolute squeak. “...stop them?” Snails’s eyes widened, but after a moment of consideration, he nodded. “Makes sense,” he said. Fluttershy sighed. She had been afraid he would say that.