Huge concrete doors opened to the surface of Blue Shelf. Bellesmith stuck her head out of the grand elevator car, biting her lip as a gust of cool mountain wind blew at her brown locks. Tightening a plain gray satchel around her flanks, she trotted forward, squinting into the bright sunlight streaming across a crystal blue sky.
Birds chirped and dipped low, flitting from tree to tree. The smell of pine and melting sap lingered in the air. At a distance, Belle could see zeppelins puttering. They numbered in the dozens, carrying freight along open trade routes in the free air.
"Have a safe trip home, ma'am."
Belle jumped, stifling a high pitched yelp. She glanced to her right, trembling.
A unicorn in a working jersey smirked, nodded his horn at her, and resumed transporting mana crystals from one building to another. Flanking the tall zeppelin tower at the summit of Blue Shelf was a series of wooden huts. Engineers and couriers flocked from building to building, while several of them hung about in tight clusters, spending the time in felicitous conversation. There was not a single beret to be seen.
Bellesmith fidgeted. The wind blew her bangs before her eyes. She raised a hoof to move the strands, but paused. She then lowered her limb. Concentrating with extra zeal, Belle telekinetically parted her bangs, allowing herself an unobstructed view of the mountain paradise. She took a deep breath, as if preparing for a deep dive, and strolled forward into the sun-kissed slopes leading into the pine forest.
As she trotted down the path, her hooves kicking up mulch and gravel, she passed by two wagons. One was full of freshly chopped logs, with a stallion hoofing out firewood to the locals, one hut at a time. Another was full of crystals bound for the facility, their energy brimming and waiting to be tapped.
Belle heard a sound to her right. She turned to look.
A manticore burst through the foliage and came upon her.
"Gaaah!" Belle shrunk away, covering her head. As the seconds bled by, her body wasn't ripped in half. Instead, she heard a soft, urgent clicking voice.
"Tchh. Tchh. Whoah there, Peach Fangs. This ain't the way."
Belle looked up to see a mare in forest-colored gear mounted on the back of the beast. Affixed to a burlap saddle, she telekinetically yanked at a pair of reins and urged the creature back into the underbrush, joining three more manticores being similarly guided by ponies to drag lumber and supplies towards an nearby mill. Beyond them, the forest line loomed clear and naked, without a single manafence to bar them.
With a dry gulp, Belle returned to the mountain path, quickening her pace. Soon, she was passing under the shade of hanging pine needles. The air rustled with swaying limbs in the refreshing, afternoon breeze. Squirrels foraged besides the road, hopping fearlessly close to where Belle's hooves and the tracks of countless others had tread.
Nervously, Belle glanced ahead. The village loomed, and it was twice as busy as she remembered it. Instead of barren streets and dilapidated building fronts, the place was ripe with equine life. Ponies and other quadrupeds milled about, trading goods, pushing garden wagons, sharing stories, and filling the air with mirth and laughter. As the scientist approached the heart of town, her figure was reflected in many a pair of eyes. Smiling faces and eager expressions were in abundance.
She didn't smile back. Her shivers doubled with each glance she took to either side of her. Belle took one look at the front of the library, and a pair of buffalo stood at a distance, a male and a female. The two beloveds waved politely at her.
Shuddering, Belle skirted pass a rickety wagon and a line of laborers. She came upon the central office, but grimaced at how long the line was outside the entrance. She fumbled with the crystal identification shard that was located in the front pocket of her satchel.
"Bellesmith!" A chipper voice exploded in her ear. "As I live and breathe!"
"Nnngh!" she gasped, dropping her shard entirely. She turned to see Baxter grinning in her face.
"Long time no see!" he sing-songed, waving a cloven hoof. "Wow, they really kept you down there for ages, huh? At this rate, I figured you were gonna sprout roots and stay down there for good!"
"I... uhm... I am having... that is..." Belle bit her lip, grunting as her forelimbs tugged at the stubborn shard stuck in the mud. "I was having tr-trouble... and I... I-I..."
"Here, allow me." Baxter's antler's glowed. With a single tug, he easily plucked the stone loose and floated it over to Belle. "You're getting rusty, Doctor," he said with a smirk. "Another day of sequencing, and you won't even be able to open doors with that horn of yours!"
"I... I can't... erm..." Belle fitfully looked over her shoulder. The line into the office looked even thicker. She was starting to sweat profusely. "There's no time for... f-for talking..."
"Oh come on! You gotta give me at least a little gab!" Baxter said, almost hopping in place. "Is the project going along smoothely? Figured anything out about the ancient ponies who ran this country before us?"
"You..." Belle stammered. "You know?"
Baxter raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I? Pffft... not like this place is top secret or nothing..."
"Uhm... Baxter, darling?" Kenna trotted up, carrying a basket of flowers atop her hindquarters. "Perhaps you should tone it down a bit? Can't you see Belle's exhausted?"
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Baxter smirked in Belle's direction. "You okay, girl? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
"I... I..." Belle looked at Baxter, at Kenna, then at Baxter again. "I-I gotta go!" She galloped off, almost dropping the shard again.
"Whoah!" Baxter gasped. "What's the hurry, Doc?"
Belle panted and panted. As he passed by the general store, two ponies were trotting out.
"And for the last time, I'm not allergic to peanuts," Placid said in a dull groan. "If I was, I'm quite certain I would have perished from all of our visits to your cousin's for Spark's Forging every year."
"Would it kill you to be a little bit careful, at least?" Felicity grumbled. "We don't want a repeat of last month with you and the Hayseed Supreme."
"You do realize that was an isolated incident, and you had talked me into drinking copious amounts of cider at the time—" Placid turned, and it was then that he saw Belle. "Oh, good doctor! You have returned to us!"
"I knew she'd come around eventually!" Felicity said with a smug grin. She then blinked awkwardly. "Uhm, Doctor?" Felicity pointed back at the office. "Aren't you going to check yourself back in?"
"No t-time!" Belle simply scampered past them. "I have to go!"
"No time? Is she daft?" Placid muttered.
Felicity placed a hoof on his shoulder. "Leave her be. She's been through a lot. Delusional paranoia is difficult to shake off."
At that, Belle glanced back—only to blindly bump into something. She grunted breathily, stumbling backwards. When her vision cleared, an angry, wooly face was glaring up at her from beyond a gnarled pair of horns.
"You ever heard of trotting lanes, princess?" Grinder venomously spat. He grinded his hooves, pulling a rusted wagon full of bricks. "I'm not that kind of ram. Go to the west side of town and bump into a stallion who gives a flaming turd, why don'tcha?"
Belle squeaked forth a tiny whimper. She bent her head forward and outright sprinted into the forest. She heard the worried voices of Felicity and Placid behind her in the distance. They soon faded between the tree trunks, like hushed wind between the pines.
After scaling clumps of pine needles and mounds of fallen tree limbs, she made her way onto an open path again. She followed its winding course uphill, veering left and right to avoid tree stumps and collapsed logs. At last, she came upon a brightly-lit avenue, flanked by log cabins.
She heard something here, something that had never rang through that lonesome mountain air before. It almost resembled the mewling of kittens, until Belle's sluggish canter brought her upon the edge of it, and then she was hearing laughter and cackles and giggles. She froze as soon as two of the bodies rushed past her, chasing each other on short, waddling limbs.
A little filly laughed, running circles around Belle until she hid behind one of the mare's limbs, hiding from a colt who was playfully chasing her. The colt jerked left and right, trying to coax her out from behind the scientist. At last, the filly made a run for it, joining her friends who had made a fort out of twigs on the crest of a hill along the forest's edge. When the colt came within range, the fillies on the other side stood up and telekinetically tossed water balloons with tiny glowing horns. The colt shrieked and ran off, giggling.
Breathless, Belle looked away from this scene and gawked at the houses. Every other log cabin was dotted with children, some of them playing, others standing and chatting on the front stoops to their homes. Mothers and fathers hovered all about, tending to lawnwork, sweeping the walkways clean, and beautifying the gardens.
Belle fought the urge to hyperventilate. She strolled ahead, slowly this time, making for the familiar brown shape that was her home. As she did so, a mare trotted in the opposite direction, smiling as she hummed a happy tune in the sunlit air. A filly sat in one of the pockets of her saddlebag. The youngster waved at the scientist with a bright smile.
"Hello, Doctor Belle!"
Belle winced, but nevertheless waved back. A pair of colts trotted past her, dragging fishing equipment.
"Hey there, Belle!"
"Nice afternoon, Belle!"
Belle hushedly nodded. Her limbs were numb as rubber at this point. With a few more steps, she came upon the springy grass of her cabin's front lawn. Turning right, she hurried up the path and planted her hooves against the front door handle. Pausing, she turned and flashed a twitchy look over her shoulder.
Across the street, two mares sat, gossiping. Beside them, a pair of very young fillies sat, playing with horse dolls. One of them giggled, her voice sounding like bells in the forest air. She had a mane of bushy emerald. Slowly, like a rotating gravestone, her plump little smile pivoted towards the scientist.
With a burst of magic, Belle flung the door open, launched herself inside, and slammed the thing shut behind her. She slumped against the cabin's frame, breathing in and out, in and out, in and out. In one movement, she stripped of her saddlebag and brought a pair of hooves over her eyes. The mare's teeth clenched and unclenched.
All was silence. Until....
"Belle? Darling, is that you?"
The first breath to come out of Belle was like a knife being ripped from her chest. When she opened her eyes, they were already glossing over. Her breaths slowed as she gradually lurched from the front area and into the kitchen. Hanging a left, she peered around and into the reading room.
The cabin's library was full of color, all muted, painted with every binder and book cover imaginable. And in the center of it all, like a monocrhomatic nucleus, he sat with his stripes, bright and lively, as if he was absorbing everything that the colors had to give and passing them back out in like turn. He didn't look back; he didn't so much as stir as his hovering manasphere flew circles above three open tomes lying across a thick oak desk. A pair of fuzzy ears twitched, and then a voice came—his voice.
"You'll never believe this, beloved. Did you know that Xonan infants are marked with ink stencils less than three weeks after foaling? It would appear that the application of cultural tattoos is committed far earlier than popular culture is apt to believe, that is, if I'm to take any of these old manuscripts seriously. They were written by a quorum of ponies who graduated at Blue Valley University. I never held much respect for Blue Valley, and that's not simply because Mountainfall rivaled them in every intellectual field."
Belle draped herself against the edge of the room. Her hair hung in tattered brown streams around a fragile smile aimed at the library's center. Every subsequent breath tore at her lungs, so that she couldn't help but emit a shudder or two.
Pilate heard them. Of course he heard them. Those ears of his twitched, and soon he was turning around, tilting his head aside like a curious sparrow perched on a low-hanging tree branch. "Belle?" he murmured into the air. His ears twitched again, and he turned completely around. "Beloved? Is everything alright?"
Belle trotted. Belle bounded. Belle threw her forelimbs around Pilate, nuzzling his neck and chin deeply, sobbing into his black and white coat.
His face stretched in shock and confusion. A pair of gray eyes searched the ceiling aimlessly as he stroked her back and murmured, "Why, what is it, Belle?! You're back! Isn't that a good thing?" He gulped as he felt her shudders harder and harder. "Belle, honey, what's wrong?"
She hiccuped on a sob, smiling as tears streamed from her clenched eyelids. She murmured rapturously into his scent, "I had a bad dream..."