Chapter Nine: Northern Lights
With a flash of white light, four ponies appeared in the shell of the home. The walls had been scorched black by the heat of flames and an outline of the compass that had brought them here traced itself in the ciders upon the floor. Ash stirred in swirls as the air around them changed pressures, and swept through the snow.
Outside the shattered windows of the home, snow piled upon the ground that lay only inches below their head. Because the building had been dug into the earth, the stone and dirt roof remained, though it did so with the black of ashes. Ridgeline looked around for a moment and hung his head. He had remembered his home as it used to be, not as how it was when he had left it. Where the front door should have been there was only a melted hinge. Ridgeline walked outside the remnants of his house to greet what remained of his home town.
The chill of the northern winds blew through the ponies as if it were it were a malevolent spirit waiting to drag them to an icy grave. Constance unpacked the winter cloaks she had taken from Pick's home, and passed them among the ponies. Ridgeline only stared out at his city; he didn't even react to the offered clothing. Memories of the tragedy of Hoofswell played back in his mind. He remembered looking to the sky, and asking Celestia why she had let this happen. He always wondered if he’d return; now he remembered why he never had. As if instinct was leading him to where he needed to go, Ridgeline started walking along the snow covered paths. In truth there was nothing in Hoofswell but the old ponies that refused to leave, and that waited to die.
All around the herd were the shells of a once beautiful city. Stained glass depictions of the goddesses hung half-shattered in frames in of windows that had once sang with life. The homes, like the rest of the city, were now silent, save for the howling of the winds that ripped through the streets like a pack of coyotes. Scorched walls thrust out in black spikes from the perfect white piles of snow as if to guide the ponies along a path to nowhere.
The ponies walked in silence through the snow filled streets. It seemed more than a ruin, it felt more like a graveyard of unquiet dead that would rise up in wrath for daring to disturb them. Everywhere there were signs of the life that had been abandoned in an instant: Carts lay toppled and frozen to the ground; merchandise sat rusting in shop windows, skeletons of those fallen griffins lay covered in ice and snow.
A foal’s toy lay buried in a shop window. It had been protected from the ravages of time by a piece of broken glass that lay atop it. Ridgeline stopped to pick it up; it was a rabbit. The stuffed toy was covered in ice, but it held together as if it wanted to be found again. Its stitched smile had come frayed long ago, and a single button eye hung from its face. Ridgeline looked at the toy rabbit in his hooves, then back out to the city.
“I was born here,” said Ridgeline. “That was fifteen years ago, but it might as well been never for all that’s left of it.” Sitting in the snow, the massive stallion cradled the stuffed bunny in his arms as if it were real. He pet the toy as the memories of that day came back. “All this destruction happened when I was about six. Griffons swept in from the north and dropped balls of fire from the sky. Every pony here fought, but we weren’t warriors back then. We were just rock farmers. There never were that many pegasi in the city, and they couldn't hold the skies against so many griffons.” Ridlgeline was staring into the distance as the events of those days played back in his head. “They killed so many. No one knew why. They just came, destroyed our city, and left. They didn’t loot. They didn’t take prisoners. They bombed the city with fire, and took away ponies as if they were stocking up for winter. Some said it was revenge because some pony killed a griffin. Others figured they wanted the city gone so they could use it for themselves. But what does a griffin want with the land when they own the skies?” He looked down at the stuffed rabbit that he held in his hooves for a moment. “After that, every pony became a soldier. I became a soldier.”
“You were six!” said Heart Chase. “How could they turn a child into a soldier?”
“I don’t really know. Training, I think” said Ridgeline. “I have a hard time remembering a lot of things from those years. It’s all kind of fuzzy, and it makes my head hurt to remember it. I'm not the only one though. There were a bunch of us that age that all started training at the same time, but I don't know what happened to the others. I think they all died in the war.” He held out the stuffed rabbit to Heart Chase. “Can I keep this? It reminds me of a toy my sister had.”
“Why are you asking me?” said Heart Chase.
Ridgeline put it aside with a guilty look and walked away. Heart Chase picked up the toy. She put it in her satchel, and followed as he walked away.
Along the southern portion of the ruins, a new city began to thrive. Smaller, certainly, and built as a fortress rather than a true city, but it was there, and it housed ponies. Ballistae had been mounted along the city walls that aimed for the sky. Ponies walked the streets in thick winter coats as they watched the tundra. Smiles were nowhere to be found as the herd approached the city of New Hoofswell, and a pony wearing a woolen hat stopped the herd as they arrived at the gates.
“What’s your business?” he asked, looking over the ponies.
“We’re lookin’ fer a pony named Star Heart,” said Heart Chase. “You know if he’s still around?” The pony at the gate just shrugged.
“Never heard of him,” he said.
The ponies waited expectantly for an offer of help or suggestion as to where to go next, but they were instead met with an indifferent stare. The ponies simply walked off, leaving the wool capped pony by the city entrance to do… whatever it was he did. Instead of being greeted by other friendly faces, they were greeted by the slush covered streets of New Hoofswell. Constance fluttered above the mess with some disdain.
“Doesn’t any pony here control the weather?” asked the pegasus. “I mean, really. Bridleburg is populated almost entirely by earth ponies, and you don’t see this kind of lousy winter weather. It’s September for Celestia’s sake, and there’s a foot of snow on the ground.”
“Probably the griffons,” said Ridgeline, looking up to the clouds. “It snows until April around here. Some pony once told me that the griffins are trying to freeze out the remaining ponies here.” He looked out to the miserable, bundled masses of New Hoofswell. “But we’re tougher stuff than that, I guess. Or maybe we’re just stubborn.”
With no real direction, the ponies wandered the streets for a while and made occasional inquiries with whatever ponies seemed friendly enough to talk to. There weren’t many and after a few hours of wandering, they had returned to the entrance of the New Hoofswell. A few of the guard ponies wandering the town had hassled them, but upon seeing Ridgeline in his Knight's armor, and hearing his Hoofswell accent, they left the herd alone.
By the time they had made the circuit around the city, the sun had begun to set. Heart Chase could have sworn it was only mid-afternoon. Bard pointed out how far north they were, and tried to explain a bit about axial tilt. Most of it went over Heart Chase’s head, but she understood from the explanation that days this far north were really short in the fall and winter.
Lacking a plan, the ponies decided to find a room at an inn for the evening and start fresh tomorrow. Part of the problem they were facing was they didn’t know when the army of Bridleburg was going to reach Canterlot. They assumed they had less than a week till Glaive marched on the capital, but they had no idea where he was, or what he was planning. Educated guesses were all they had, and Heart Chase prayed that her sister would be clever enough to realize that the Iron Pick she was traveling with wasn't who he claimed to be.
…
Glaive stood above the body of one of Celestia’s Knights. The white earth pony put up his hooves to beg for mercy, but his pleas were met with the fetlock blade that pierced his chest. His dying breath was that of a simple question. Why?
Glaive looked upon the battlefield with a sense of pride. Dozens of bodies from either side lay upon the field of battle, and the sounds of a full retreat were music to the ears of their future ruler. He was close now to the conditions set forth by the princess those five years ago, though not in the spirit she had intended. He turned to find Apple Chase beside him, decked out in her own armor.
“I can see why you reveal in this,” she said. “It’s so… exhilarating. Where would you have ever learned a skill like this?”
“Have you ever met a griffon?” asked Glaive. “Fascinating creatures, really. My parents were diplomats of sorts, and they frequently would bring other dignitaries home to meet the family. When I was about ten, I met the griffon ambassador from their territories. He had come to try to understand pony magic. My useless brother and I taught his family simple magic tricks, and in return he taught me how to fight with the heart of the griffons.”
“You have a brother?” asked Apple Chase. Glaive huffed with disapproval.
“He’s spineless, and twice over a traitor,” said Glaive. “He rebelled against Celestia, then against the Lunar Republic. I swear, when I see him again, I will cut off his horn and wear it as a trophy.” He spat upon the ground. “Death’s too good for him.” Apple Chase thought for a moment before speaking again.
“Didn’t the griffons burn Hoofswell to the ground?” she asked.
“That was hysterical,” giggled Glaive. “I laughed for an hour when I first heard about that. Apparently, those rock bucking bumpkins tried to negotiate sky rights or something equally stupid with the griffons. Griffons do as they please, and trying to make a contract with them is like trying to raise the dead.” He pushed aside the body of the pony he had just killed. “Impossible, unless you’re willing to delve into madness.”
They walked back from the field of battle to where the generals had gathered again. Daisy Lane had returned to the ranks of the Knights during the fight to put in a good appearance. They would welcome her back from her imprisonment and congratulate her on her daring escape. With so many officers slain, the Knights would give her command of a legion. Then, when the time was right, she’d surrender, and open the gates of Canterlot for the invading forces. Her only worry was getting back through the Everfree Forest.
The forest itself was a dangerous place. From the ruins of the old castle, it had grown in leaps and bounds over the past five years. As if fueled by a desire to overtake civilization, the trees grew like weeds, and the weeds practically shot from the ground. No matter how much any pony slashed and burned, it grew back stronger and hardier than ever. It seemed to reflect the heart of Equestria: afraid for its own future.
Still, the future of Equestria lie in the hooves of those who were willing to fight for it, and every pony that had followed the message of Glaive was willing to put their troops into the fight. With Canterlot’s forces battered and on the run, the march through the forest would be a swift. At the end of the march lay one last fight, and from there, the kingdom of Equestria. Glaive smiled at his princess.
“Tell me, Apple Chase,” said Glaive. “Where do you think we should make our court?”
…
The inn the ponies had found looked remarkably like the one in Bridleburg, albeit with no windows, and tapestries lining the walls in a vain attempt to insulate the room. The building was a single story of stone that was divided into a commons area and a series of private rooms along a rear hallway. Heart Chase paid for a room for the ponies, and ordered dinner. They had made a lot less progress then they had hoped, and they sat in quiet commiseration.
For an hour they listened instead of talking. The chill air sapped their spirits, and drained the conversation from their lips. Heart Chase could easily see why the ponies this far north were so miserable; it was hard to make friends when you were shivering all the time. Even after listening to conversations, they still had no idea where to begin looking. Heart Chase finally snapped after an hour.
“How the heck are we supposed to find an old pony in a town of old ponies?” she asked. “We got a description, and a city. Ain’t much to go off of there.”
“Excuse me,” asked a pink filly. “But who are you looking for?”
The table turned to look at the filly. Her hair was the color of strawberries, and her coat was shaggy from head to toe. She smiled with the eagerness of a child that hadn’t learned that everypony wasn’t a friend yet. Wrapped around midsection was a thin cloak of wool that couldn’t possibly be keeping her warm. Heart Chase couldn’t help but want to hug the fuzzy little pony.
“Muffins!” shouted a grey stallion. “Leave those strangers alone.” The pink filly cringed at her father’s admonishment. “I’m sorry, she won’t bother you again.” Heart Chase noticed the pick cutie mark on the father.
“Hey, ya’ll wouldn’t happen to be Picks, would yah?” she asked.
“Ah, hell, not this again,” sighed the Stallion. “My family came here years ago to work the rock farms. We’re just as native as anypony else and if you think I’m going to put up with any sort of…”
“No, no,” said Heart Chase. “It ain’t like that. I’m a Pick too; by marriage at least.” The stallion gave her a quizzical look. He looked to Ridgeline, then to the other ponies in the party.
“So?” asked the grey stallion.
“I’m sayin’ we’re kin, and kin ain’t strangers.” She extended a hoof. “The name’s Heart Chase. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The stallion shook her hoof with hesitation.
“Limestone Quarry,” introduced the Stallion. “This is my daughter, Muffins.”
“So you’re a rock farmer?” asked Ridgeline. “Good profession. My family did that until… well, all that happened.” He looked down at Muffins with a sad glance.
“Mine too,” said Limestone. “I still work the quarries when the weather lets up. If it weren’t for all these damn griffons, Hoofswell might actually be a decent place to live.”
“What’s the problem with griffons?” asked Constance. Limestone blinked in amazement at the pegasus. He looked as if he’d seen an angel.
“Oh my goddess, you have wings,” he said. He pointed the wings out to his daughter. “Look at the pegasus! I bet she can fly, honey. Isn’t that amazing?” His expression changed from dour to inexplicably happy. “We haven’t seen a pegasus around these parts for years. The griffons keep killing them all.” Constance jaw dropped in shock. How was that a happy thing? “They figure if they can freeze us out, they can move into to claim the area and all the gem mines.”
“What do griffons want with gems?” asked Heart Chase.
“Same as any pony,” said Ridgeline. “Only problem is, they can’t dig like ponies, so they have to find others to do it for them.” Ridgeline shrugged. “I don’t know who would dig for those basta…” Ridgeline remembered the filly, and checked his speech mid sentence. “Anyway, they were always trying to muscle in on our land, and we just kept pushing them back.”
“Didn’t you ever try to negotiate with them?” asked Heart Chase. The entire inn fell silent at her remark. Heart Chase turned to the room with a half frown. “Mind yer own business.” She turned back to Ridgeline and Limestone. “So, have yah?”
“Griffins have a nasty habit of eating ponies that get too close,” said Limestone. “That’s why there aren’t any pegasi in Hoofswell. Well, there is one.” He looked down at his daughter. She smiled back at the ponies.
“You’re keeping her wings bound?” gasped Constance. “Don’t you know how much that hurts?”
“I got used to it,” said Muffins. The fuzzy little pegasus’s voice was tinged with resignment. “It only hurts a little bit now and then. Daddy says it keeps me safe.” Limestone sighed with defeat.
“I don’t want to, believe me,” protested Limestone. “I want my little Muffins to be able to soar like her mommy used to. But with the griffons always go after pegasi first.” He sighed and slumped to the table in defeat. “There’s nothing we can do about it.” He looked up from the table at the ponies. “You said you were looking for somepony?” Heart Chase nodded.
“His name is Star Heart,” she said. “Supposedly he’s an old lavender unicorn with a heart and star cutie mark. He came home this way after the war, but that’s the last anypony’s ever heard of him.” The inn had again fallen silent as the listen to Heart Chase’s western accent. She looked back at the crowd for a moment. “Well if ya’ll are listenin’ anyway, anyone of yah ponies seen Star Heart?” Murmurs filled the room, but no answers came from the crowd. “Ain’t anypony got an answer fer me? If he’s dead, I’d like to know, so I can just go home.” She stared at the crowd a moment. “Anypony? No?” Silence. “Buncha mules,” she muttered.
“Star Heart is that nice old pony who lives near the griffons!” said Muffins.
“Muffins!” scolded Limestone. “Sorry, she’s prone to flights of fancy,” he nervously giggled. “Part of being a pegasus, I think. All heads in the clouds even when they’re stuck on land.”
“What was that, Muffins?” asked Heart Chase. Limestone spoke up to protest, but was frightened into silence by a single glare from the yellow Mare.
“Mister Star Heart lives up in the mountains,” said Muffins. “You have to sneak through the old city. That’s easy. The griffons don’t come out until it’s dark, and with all the old buildings over there, they can’t see you.” Muffins beamed with pride as she explained how she snuck around the ruins of Hoofswell. “I go up to his house all the time. He tells me all kinds of stories, and he has the best candies. I don’t know how he gets back into his house, cause I have to fly up the…” She stopped and bit her tongue. “Uh oh.”
“You’ve been flying?” demanded Limestone. “Muffins, what have I told you about that? Griffons will eat you if you fly!”
“Now Limestone,” admonished Constance. “If you don’t allow a child to spread her wings and fly, you wind up creating another miserable pony. And from what I can see, this town has enough miserable ponies.” Limestone again started to protest. “No buts!” scolded Constance. “It’s bad enough you’re binding your filly’s wings, but to deny her the flight? Inexcusable!” She turned her hateful glare to a pleasant smile, and looked back to Muffins. “Miss Muffins, would you be kind enough to show us where Mister Star Heart lives?” The fuzzy little pegasus grinned with a smile that lit up dreary the room.
“I get to help a big pegasus with something?” she squealed. Muffins started bouncing around Constance and cheering. “Best day ever!”
“Why do you even need to see that crackpot?” asked Limestone. “He only comes to town once a year, and hasn’t spoken to anypony in the entire time he’s lived here. What makes you think he’ll talk to you?”
“Because we’re here to save Equestria from itself,” said Heart Chase. “He’s gonna want to hear what we have to say.”