//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 - In the real world // Story: A Place for Everything and Everyone // by LCranston //------------------------------// (Approximately one year after Princess Luna’s return) It was late afternoon in Canterlot. A now grown-up Stratum walked up to a tall bookshelf in the Royal Archives. The bookshelf was very dusty and the wheels on the rolling ladder squeaked when he moved it. This section of the library was fondly known as ‘the place where unimportant records go to die’. The librarian, a tall, reedy-looking stallion with a white coat, red mane, and orange eyes winced at the sound of the old wheels and casters rubbing against each other. With a huff, he got up out of his chair and stomped off towards the source of the sound. He knew right where it was. Several pairs of eyes turned away, trying not to meet his gaze. Everypony knew not to get in the way of Paper Cut the librarian. Even the nice flank symbol of an open book did nothing to soften the harsh way he would speak to those who made noise in his library. Paper Cut arrived at the bottom of the old, massive bookshelf that had become the unofficial central repository for scrolls, books, and other records that were not asked for in years. Looking up, he saw a short, yellow stallion pulling out scrolls at random, skimming them, and then putting them back. The librarian hissed, “Stratum, how many times have I told you not to make noise in the library?!” The short, yellow stallion gleefully replied, “Six. It’s your job to keep the rolling ladders oiled. I reminded you about them a month ago and you still haven’t done it.” Paper Cut rolled his eyes and replied, “I am far too busy to be performing such dirty, oily work. I’ll ask the janitor to do it. Now will you please stop climbing that bookshelf?” Stratum simply said, “No.” The librarian’s eyes went wide with shock. He tried to speak, but only sputtered in reply. The short, yellow stallion stated firmly, “This bookshelf contains a wealth of old knowledge that’s useful in my research.” Paper Cut curled his upper lip and dismissed, “This is the repository for useless papers. What could possibly be of any value here? I’ve a good mind to lock this collection up in the basement and get rid of that ladder.” He smiled wickedly at the thought of denying someone access to papers to show who’s boss around here. Stratum looked evenly at the librarian and stated carefully, “I’ve got evidence that there’s a lost pony village that dates back to the time before Princess Luna’s banishment. I intend to prove its existence and maybe even find it. The records on this particular shelf come from that era. If you deliberately restrict access to these critical documents, then I will have no choice but to visit the Minister of Education and inform him of your lackluster performance.” The red-maned stallion screwed up his expression into an aggressive snarl. However, Stratum noticed that he took a step back unconsciously. Paper Cut hotly replied, not caring if he was loud in his own library, “The Minister of Education? Why would such an important pony see the likes of you, you second-rate pest?” Stratum ignored the gasps just barely audible from the main reading room and explained, “Your job is to provide access to knowledge, not take it away. If the minister came here to find out you took away an entire bookshelf of useful papers just to hide the fact that you can’t even keep your ladder wheels oiled, he may decide you’re not the pony for the job.” The white-coated stallion’s snarl faded away. Stratum continued, “A classmate of mine came here for an important book on this very shelf. I happen to know for a fact you shooed her away and denied her the book. When she turned in her report for class, she didn’t get as good a grade as she should have gotten. Perhaps her professor should know the reason why she didn’t include that information. Perhaps if he knew why she didn’t get the book, maybe he’d be more lenient. What do you think, sir?” Paper Cut backed away, trying to keep his head up to save at least some of his dignity. He mumbled, “Just keep it down, okay?” The short, yellow stallion nodded and went back to reading his scrolls. After several minutes, he found what he was looking for. Excitedly, he went to the desk to check out his scroll and went home to copy it and examine the paper for more clues. ========================= Sounds of loud banging rang through the industrial area. This was common and the metal foundries were here. Scrap metal and ore was imported from all over Equestria to be hammered and smelted into working shape. This was all done by students under the watchful eyes of metal-working masters. Some were experts in smelting. Some were experts in making alloys. Others were masters of shaping. A very few became skilled in all aspects of metal working. These teachers were booked solid all year-round. Only those with special connections could arrange to have their children apprenticed to such ponies. Inside a foundry were the normal sights. A worktable for organizing tools, a pile of firewood, a pile of metallic ore, a second pile of different metallic ore, an anvil for pounding, a bucket of water, and a bucket of oil. The teacher, an old, nearly feeble mare by the name of Cherry Anvil, was directing her student in the final stages of craftsmanship. She had a coat that was once a dark, brilliant red and a mane that was so orange it looked like it was on fire. Now those colors have faded significantly. Only her eyes were the same. They were a sparkling dark gray, with little gold flecks in them. Now those eyes were focused on the hooves of her student. A tall, powerfully built orange stallion gritted his teeth in ultimate concentration. In his left hoof he gripped a pair of beaten-up tongs which in turn held a bowl-shaped piece of bronze which was hot enough to set fires. The right hoof powerfully gripped a hammer, scorched with past encounters with fire. The hammer pounded the bronze bowl over and over. The strikes were hard, but each one was carefully placed. Instead of bending the bronze out of shape, it was instead bending it into shape. The old mare mentioned, “Finish up and then final assembly.” The orange stallion mentioned, “Uh-huh.” He then turned the bowl over and over, looking for anything left undone. A couple of more light whacks on the back side of the bronze and then he carried it over to a bucket of water. Dipping the bowl in the bucket, the water instantly bubbled and let off a cloud of steam. The bronze came out of the bowl cooler and firm. He then carried it over to a nearby worktable that had other pieces on it. He put the other seemingly unrelated pieces together. The object snapped together with an audible click. Proudly, he presented his teacher with the finished object. It was a bronze plate helmet in the exact style the royal guards wore. Cherry Anvil looked the piece over, turning it this way and that. She imagined the original pattern and matched it with this object in her mind. Smiling, she said, “Well done, Steele. This is definitely within tolerances. Now send this over to the unicorns so they can fuse the metal together magically. That’ll make it stronger than normal bronze.” The tall, orange stallion chirped, “Yes, ma’am! Then I’ll clean up the shop and we can get started on what’s next.” She refuted, “Once you deliver that, you’re done. Do have some fun with your friends.” Steele lost his enthusiasm. He avoided commenting back. Cherry Anvil knew that look. She pressed, “Well, what’s wrong?” The orange stallion admitted, “I don’t have any friends. This isn’t Ponyville. Ponies just come here for school and then go home.” The teacher asked, “What about that brother of yours? Don’t the two of you get along?” Steele admitted, “Oh yeah. We have fun, but he doesn’t get home for a couple of hours yet.” She sighed and decided, “Okay, once you’re done sweep out the hearth and put the tools away. Then go do something with your brother. I’ve got a lot of planning to do about your future. You just passed your final exam.” Steele smiled and took off trotting towards the alchemy laboratories and the unicorns therein. ========================= About an hour later, Stratum trotted into the office of a middle-aged stallion. The stallion had a gray coat, yellow mane, and blue eyes. His flank symbol was a rolled-up scroll that had a nimbus of yellow light. The office was tiny and cramped. A large mahogany desk took up most of the room, piled high with stacks of papers, books, and scrolls of various ages. Several plaques lined the walls, proclaiming his accomplishments over the course of his career. The short stallion placed a three-page report upon the desk of his mentor with pride. The middle-aged stallion arched an eyebrow at the unceremonious entrance. He asked, “And what, pray tell, is this?” Confused, Stratum stated, “It’s my report on the lost village of Sable Weir, Mr. Vellum. I think I found the general area.” Vellum, the professor of Advanced Archaeology, sighed and pushed the report away, saying, “Sable Weir is just myth. Nopony cares about it.” The short, yellow stallion pushed the report back to his professor and insisted, “We’re archaeologists! We dig up old mare’s tales all the time! Who knows what’s there? We should go and do a basic search, maybe a surface excavation!” The professor sighed loudly, “If such a place existed, Princess Celestia would have told us. Drop it and get back to validating those records of birth rates in Canterlot for the last ten years.” Stratum stomped his hoof upon the floor of the office and asked roughly, “What the heck do I have to do to prove that Sable Weir exists?” Vellum said in a cavalier manner, “If you can even provide one single piece of hard evidence that it existed, then I’d say that it’s possible.” The short, yellow stallion smugly provided a scroll from his saddlebags. He opened it to the third page and pointed to a certain passage. The professor put on his reading spectacles and read the passage. After a moment, he asked in amazement, “What is this? Where did you get it?” Stratum proudly replied, “It’s an original set of pages from a mare’s diary over a thousand years ago. She explains right there that her sister got married and moved west to…wait for it…” He smirked in anticipation. Vellum rolled his eyes and admitted in defeat, “Sable Weir. That doesn’t mean it existed. This could be poetry or even a mistake.” The yellow stallion stood up as tall as he could and declared, “Then you admit it might be true and this is first-hoof evidence that puts it in reasonable doubt.” The professor slammed his hoof upon the desk, shaking the piles of papers. He declared, “All right, all right! It’s a reasonable possibility that there was some tiny settlement that called itself Sable Weir! There, are you happy?” Stratum declared, “Not yet. Since we don’t know where it is or who was there or how the ponies lived, we need to find out. I want an expedition out there. I’ve already outlined in my paper the approximate location, so it’s not like it’ll be a huge project. I think I’ll only need a dozen assistants.” Vellum snarled. He had been hoodwinked by someone half his age! He then got his selfish little brain cooking. He then pulled out some dusty papers that he had not used in a long time. Filling out the papers, he handed them to Stratum, saying, “Good work, young stallion. I think we should find out what’s out there. Sign here and I’ll approve of your expedition. Say, have the mares in your class noticed how successful you are? They’re sure to take notice once they find out you’re on an expedition of your own.” Stratum’s pride swelled to new heights. He finally felt respected…and of course the mares in his class would finally see his star quality for once. He signed the papers and handed them back. He boasted, “Imagine how famous you’ll be for funding the expedition that rediscovered Equestria’s lost heritage! Princess Celestria herself may even give you another award.” Vellum dismissed the compliment and reached for a tightly-wrapped bag in the bottom of his desk. Opening it, he withdraw funds and then closed the bag. He handed the coins to Stratum and then marked the withdrawal in his ledger. Stratum stared at the coins with disappointment and asked, “Is this it? I’ll be gone for weeks, possibly months! What about my assistants?” Vellum sneered at Stratum. He congratulated himself on turning the con around and winning against a younger stallion using trickery. He spoke, “It’s in the terms of the expedition request you signed. Fifty bits of currency and no assistants. Think about it, you’re only one stallion and the only one who was clever enough to think on his hooves to find such as obscure place. I’m sure nopony else in this school could ever assist the great Stratum in matters of mythology.” The professor waved off Stratum with the backside of his hoof and said in a bored voice, “Now go on and don’t come back until you find some evidence of this fabled Sable Weir place. Your passing grade depends on it.”