“You can’t ever let your guard down out there. Those forests, those yonder mountains? They don’t like you or me. Ponyfolk aint meant to be there, ‘tis not natural.” The red stallion slammed his mug down on the counter and looked me right in the eye. “You’re not going to go, laddy. Nothing good can come of it.”
I shook my head. “I guess that’s not exactly what I meant when I said I wanted to know about Edges Pass.”
“Nothin’ more ya need to know.”
This wasn’t going anywhere and I knew it. “Well thanks for your help anyways. Bartender! Another stout!” I slid the tired looking barcolt a few extra bits. He was far to be young to working behind that counter, but there was nopony in this backwood town who would give a damn, and I supposed it wasn’t my place to care either. So long as I could get him to talk a little bit.
“Sure!” He bit down on the barrel tap and filled my mug back up. Not that I needed more ale to wash down my dinner, but it was polite to keep buying while I was here. Goodness knew they needed the coin, and he’d be far more apt to help me out if he had some more gold in his pouch.
Another twenty minutes passed, and the fellow to my left had yet to leave. Trying to appear patient was hard without any of the usual distractions. No pretty mares in the tavern, no paintings on the walls, and certainly no civilized conversation to be had. Just a senile stallion ranting about the spirits of the mountains and cold weather. I supposed if anypony couldn’t figure out it was going to be cold up there, they deserved to freeze to death.
“They’re gonna be closing up her soon, lad. You better buy yourself a room right quick and lissen close-you get back from wherever you came from with your nice shiny horseshoes and fancy jacket and tell them that these mountains aint safe to pass through right now.” He got up and left, leaving an empty mug and no tip.
I watched silently as the barcolt hurried to take the empty mug. He looked to be about twelve or thirteen, light blue with a brown mane. I wonder if they pay him anything decent? Before I could decide whether or not to ask, his high-pitched ruddy accent broke through my thoughts.
“Mister, ol’ Pine wasn’t jokin’ around. I gotta send everyone to their rooms now or send them home. It’s ten for the night and breakfast in the morn’.”
With a quick spell I levitated fifteen bits out of my coin purse and slid them over to him. He started counting the money, and his brows furrowed.
“Mister, I--”
“What’s your name, colt?”
“Morning Dew, Mister, but you already paid for your dinner. You can have these five back.” He shoved the little gold discs emblazoned with solar rays back across the worn oak, along with a key with a ‘4’ carved into it. I pushed the coins back right back, smiling.
“Well, those other five are for you, for doing such a good job getting me a warm dinner tonight. I’ve been traveling all day long, and it really hit the spot. Say...I’ve got another long day of travel tomorrow as well, and I was wondering if you could help me out here.” Taking the map from my jacket pocket, I spread it across the counter. Morning Dew’s eyes lit up in recognition. “I’m heading to Fort Midnight tomorrow, and I need to get there quickly. Matter of urgent business. I just wanted to check with you to make sure that the route I have in red is the fastest way.”
“Well yes…”
“What is it, Dew?”
“The first snow is due any day now, an’ if you’re up there when that happens, you’re a dead pony.”
Gesturing with one leg at the bag at the feet of my stool, I replied. “I’ve packed very warmly.”
“That aint all...that trail is really old, and not used very often. It’s overgrown and hard to follow.”
“I’m more than confident I will be able to manage.” Grabbing the bundle by my hooves, I slung it over my back and made to leave when Morning Dew reached out to grab the sleeve of my jacket. He began to whisper furiously.
“Look mister, that trail takes you through them ghost towns. It don’t matter if you’re on business for Celestia herself, you don’t want to be there. Ponies don’t come back from those paths.”
I ruffled his mane with a hoof and chuckled. “Hey, thanks Dew. Say, can you wake me up early tomorrow?”
“Well, as soon as I’m up, which is darn early. But mister, please don’t go that way!”
Whistling to myself, I trotted toward the hall, looking for room four. Stupid superstitious peasants. Those bits could have been more beer when I got there. The room opened to just enough space to set down my bags at the bedside. The blanket was thick, but the sheets underneath were fraying at the edges. Or maybe some better lodging.
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Several knocks sounded on my door, followed by Dew’s whiney voice. “Mister Garnet! It’s mornin’!”
Though still dark, there was more than enough light coming in through the crack under the door for me to get up without making a mess of myself. Good thing too, as there was nothing to clean up with. No tub, no sink, no vanity, but I really shouldn’t have been expecting those kinds of amenities in a place like this. If there were a mirror, I’d have been able to see namesake looking back at me. Gem red eyes, made more pronounced by a white coat. I’d had to dye my mane brown a long time ago; ponies tend to be misunderstanding about albinism.
Back at the counter, I was greeted with the smell of eggs and toast. That was exactly what Morning Dew stuck in front of me, along with a tankard of what tasted like very watered down ale. It must have been what he had for breakfast every morning, because the fellow didn’t even look apologetic while putting such filth in front of me. No point in insulting it though, I’d probably have to stay here again on the way back, and I’d give my thoughts to the innkeeper then.
By the time I’d finished, the sun was just coming up. I’m pretty sure I was the only ‘patron’ around, odd for a town sitting along a trade route. No matter though. Concerns for others were not advancing the concerns of my employer. Neglecting to give Dew a farewell, I made for the door.
Edges Pass. Edges Town. Not very creative, but I didn’t expect much better. The town itself was a few dozen log cabins nestled into the foothills; homesteads clutching the rocks like impoverished foals clinging to scraps of bread. Sheep dotted the few level patches of open grass that could be found, faces down in the dirt. Following the crude dirt trail dubbed as ‘Mane Street’, I soon found myself climbing a series of switchbacks headed up the ridge.
The cold-hardened dirt beneath my hooves made for firm footing and good progress. Despite the morning chill, I was warm and sweating just a bit under my overlarge saddlebags. I’d be needing every bit of those contents though-warm winter boots, a heavy coat, a canteen, and a bag of dried fruit. It should be more than enough to hold me over to the other side even if I were to be lost for a day, but that delay would be insufferable. Mr. Signet’s words still echoed in my mind, and I could still feel the touch of his fetlock as he took me to his office.
Look Garnet, you’re probably going to think this is beneath you, but Cuff Links, an old friend of mine is visiting Fort Midnight within a week. Just got the letter this morning. I would make every effort to go visit him, but my old bones just aren’t what they used to be, and we both know I have that negotiation with Prince Stalwart over the acreage to the north of the Everfree. I can’t pass that up, it’s our biggest opportunity as a company yet. He says he has a very big break for us, but it needs to be negotiated in person. This job is one I wouldn’t trust to any other...and if you complete it for me, I’ll make you my vice president here.
As wonderful as the ghosts of the past were, they weren’t helping me get to the future. Shaking my head to clear those thoughts, I took the last few paces to the top of the ridge, where the rocky top prevented the pines from growing to block the view. Just above the vast golden-brown plains of Equestria, the sun hovered like a silent sentinel. I could only feel the faintest modicum of warmth upon my coat, but it was still comforting to know it was there nonetheless. Lovely as it was, that view was also about to become my past.
Turning my back on the dawn, I looked out to the wilderness on the other side. Three nameless mountains capped with snow towered over vast forests and lakes below. As far as the horizons stretched north and south, smaller peaks covered in green reached for the sky. The trail in front of me went down into the forest, and while I couldn’t follow its path through the trees past a short ways in front of my muzzle, the map left me with a bigger picture. I’d follow the trail down to the valley floor, and eventually in a broad half-circle around the base of the central of the three mountains, climb a saddle between them, across one more valley, up a second saddle, then I could descend to Fort Midnight on other side. It was one very hard day’s travel, but the day was new and I was well rested-and dwelling on it wouldn’t make it go any faster. The clacking of my hooves on the path was all the goodbye I needed to give.
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By the time the base of the mountain became evident by a slight rise in the land, the morning had almost given itself over to noon. So immersed I had become by the constant rhythm of stride upon stride that I did not notice my own hunger until my stomach grumbled at me. The noise was the only thing that seemed to sound; so loud in its solitude, so small in the empty vastness of the mountain air.
Time to make these bags lighter. Finding the closest log to the trail, I sat down and levitated out my supplies. After a swig to wet my palate, I fell upon a mix of dried apples, bananas, and peaches. The cloth bag of fruit was small enough to fit on two hooves, but by the time I was full I’d barely eaten a fifth of its contents. Suppressing a shiver, I put it back into my saddlebags. The faintest of breezes stirred the air, and it was more than enough to steal the traces of heat the sun let fall upon me.
According to the map I might have been a third of the way through, presuming the first clearing was close. Now shivering, I put the map away and started down the remains of the trail. Over the past few hours it had gone from a well-worn path two lengths wide to a simple trail through the pine needle litter. Thankfully, it had still been visible the whole way through-getting lost in the forest would have made for very poor time.
Up ahead, the trail took a gentle turn, and the trees began to thin out. As the clearing became evident, I could clearly see the expanse of the slopes to my right, the mountain towering into the sky. The vegetation flanking me was not grass, but rather some kind of weed hardy enough to stay green into the late autumn. As the trees passed behind me, my breath began to appear as a mist, and the chill became brisk. Almost enough to merit putting on the coat, but not quite yet.
At the top of the next ridge I could see most of the valley beyond. What immediately drew my gaze was the small cluster of dark brown structures in a loose ring around the trail. So this must be what they were talking about. When I drew close, I could more easily make out the small details of the derelict settlement.
The buildings were in shambles; not even all the walls remained standing. The wood that had not yet been eaten away was dark and stained by Celestia knew how many years of rain. Stones lay in piles, suggesting that they had at one point stood on top of another. Two of the cabins remained completely standing, save for their rooves. Their doors were still in place, and they boasted multiple rooms-all decaying to the elements. Standing in the middle of the ghost town, the silence was deafening. What had happened to those ponies who once lived here? Did they leave? Leaving behind their land and hard-built homes? Or did they die?
A sudden creaking caused me to jump and gasp. Turning swiftly to face the source of the noise, it took me several deep breaths to calm down enough to realize it was just one of the old doors, nudged a bit open by the breeze. What if it could have been--no. This town is empty, and you have places to be. Still, I really didn’t feel like I wanted to be here any longer, and kept trying to convince myself that it was just because I needed to keep up my pace.
Atop the next rise, I successfully convinced myself of exactly that, or rather, the sky above did. Blowing in with the wind that chilled my hide beneath my hair was a fleet of dark gray clouds, soon merging together to become a solid blanket of winter. The last useful thing to do would be to panic, but it was the worst of signs I could have seen. I still had half a day at best to travel, and the cold could be uncomfortable, or perhaps hazardous. Worse still, if the snow fell too deeply, the trail could be buried, and it might take me much longer to get to the other side. Determination became mixed with necessity and panic, driving me to pick up my pace, trotting headlong into the chill wind.
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The first flakes fell as I hurried down the far side of the saddle. My ears had gone numb by the top of the long climb, and with every hoof-fall, my legs burned to remind me of the steepness of the trail. Despite the punishing pace, I was still growing colder, and was left with no choice but to put on my boots and coat. No matter, I brought these for a reason. It also gave me a chance to eat and drink a little more; it would be much more difficult to do so as the temperature dropped further.
By the time I finished my descent to the valley floor, the wind had picked up enough to blow the snow into my face. It didn’t feel too cold, after all, my coat was thick and the hood was very warm, but it made seeing very difficult. Not that it mattered too much though-after the snow really started to fall, I couldn’t see much further than a few dozen lengths in any direction. Noting the direction I was supposed to head would be the important part anyways. Trail or no trail, if I kept walking west I couldn’t fail to find the next saddle, so long as I didn’t start wandering in circles.
Afternoon gave way to evening, and as the light faded from the sky, so the warmth faded from my bones. Despair, panic, and fear would not help me right now, but did they ever desire to take ahold of me. The hour had long passed at which I’d expected to be sitting in a warm room in Fort Midnight, sharing a bottle of brandy with Cuff Links over pleasantries, and here I was still hoping I was going in the right direction. The storm had yet to let up, and the wind kept howling through my mane. I’d often wondered what it was like to face peril when I was a colt, and now I realized that as a stallion, I’d much rather be back at my office with a boring pile of papers to sign than facing the elements. Wisdom always had a habit of coming at a steep price.
The thumping of sompony galloping through the snow cut through the endless hush of snowfall, and I stopped to look about. To my front, a figure materialized in the dark, a bit shorter than myself, and wearing a tattered cloak. Her voice was quiet, barely loud enough to make out, but it held everything I could have wanted to hear.
“What are you doing out here? You’re going to die in this cold! My village is not far, and my family has space for you to stay the night. Come, follow me.”
I stood gaping for a second as she turned around, and soon hurried to follow as fast as my numbed legs would carry me. The journey was only a matter of minutes, but I didn’t want to lose my mysterious benefactor in the haze of snow. Lights appeared in the distance, and soon grew to be a small village, smoke rising faintly from the chimneys of a dozen small cabins. I followed the mare to one of the larger ones, and she pushed open the door. There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Who was she, what was a settlement doing all the way out here? How did they get through storms like these? Such thoughts were so far to the front of my mind that I tripped over the last stop, and fell forward into the house.
“Mother, father! I found him out by the trading route. He needs help!”
I made to push myself up off the wooden floor, but I couldn’t seem to get my legs to respond. Not quite able to get up just yet, I didn’t want to seem undignified, so I settled for telling them that I was fine. Or trying. The words didn’t seem to come out right.
“You’re right. Get him some of the soup, quick! The cold’s addled his mind.”
Hooves thudded on wood, and I felt myself being pushed up into a sitting position, and a warm bowl pushed against my lips. Though I had trouble swallowing it, the broth was hot and savory, and as I could gaze upon my savior as I sipped. Blue and ice blue...and a white aura around the bowl she was holding up for me. Perhaps it was the time and place, but I couldn’t help but feel just a little longing for her. Then the soup was gone and I was being picked up and carried over to the next room, tucked into a warm bed. I tried to say the words ‘thank you’, but even that was beyond my tired mind.
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I awoke curled into as tight of a ball as thick boots and a heavy coat would allow. The wind blowing over me was just too much to try and stay warm in. Wait, the wind? Sitting bolt upright, I shivered as snow fell off of my neck and back. All around, the dark brown remains of a wooden cabin poked through the snow, of which I was lying in atop the broken remains of what looked to be a bed frame. The rest of the buildings were in similar states of disrepair. I wanted to dig around and question as to what happened, but the snow and wind reminded me that it would probably have to wait for the way back, and that I was lucky to still be kicking.
Still, there wouldn’t be much point in trying if I didn’t have something to eat, and I scarfed down more of the fruit until it hurt to chew. Was that all a hallucination? I was clearly out of my mind even in it...but how did I survive the night? As I pondered, I realized the trail wouldn’t be visible under the several hooves of snow on the ground, and the whiteout was still too severe to pick out which way I needed to go. No tracks were visible from where I sat, so I mentally traced the frenzied route I took the night before, and set off in the direction I guessed would take me toward the next pass.
Having no idea the hour at which I woke, I did not know how many hours of daylight I still had to make it out of the mountains. The going was rough in the deep snow, and I had started cold. Numbness was quick to take hold of my legs and my face, and started its advance into the rest of me from there. Each minute grew on me until the hours seemed endless, and the day eternal. It was too easy to convince myself that the the circle a dozen length in diameter was the same one as I kept walking. Gray above, white below, always the same. If it were not for the occasional rocks poking through the snow and dips in the land, the illusion of constancy would have claimed me.
The previous day’s effort wore heavily on my limbs and back, the sore ache coursing through my limbs despite the cold. Exhaustion was there too, and I didn’t know if was from lack of water, lack of sleep, or overexertion. I’d long since burned out any magic I had left trying to keep myself warm, as I knew no spells for sight or guidance. The pace I was keeping slowed until I was barely walking. No Garnet, you have to keep going.
Without any magic left, I had to take off my saddlebags with my teeth. My muzzle being numb, it was slow progress working my way through them to get out the last bit of my food. Eating was still difficult, and utterly exhausting. It really felt good to be sitting still, just for a little while. I could use this break, finish what food I was able, and then get back on my way feeling better. Even the snow seemed comfortable, and oddly enough-warm. Wanting to enjoy the sensation, I let my eyes close for a moment…
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“There you are! Thank goodness you’re ok!”
The same voice from the night before startled me into wakefulness. Darkness had overtaken the land once again, and while the wind had stopped, the snow was still falling silently. Stiff from being in one place for so long, I gratefully accepted her hoof up. She helped me dust of the snow, and then turned to walk away.
“Come with me.”
I hurried to follow her, but couldn’t help but desire to explain myself. “Look, I really appreciate your help from last night. What is your name?”
“Azure Lake.”
“Garnet. Pleased to meet you Miss Lake. Where exactly are we going?”
“Back to my village.” She moved quickly under the old coak.
“Oh, well, I should let you know I’m headed out of the mountains, toward Fort Midnight.”
She turned back to look at me, her brow furrowed. “Where did you say? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Fort Midnight, just on the other side of the pass.”
“If it’s there, I’ve never heard of it.” The lights of her village shone against the snow in the distance. Odd...I thought I covered a lot more ground than this. And wait, why are the buildings all there again!? “Either way, you should stay here until it’s safe to travel again.”
“Please do not mistake my intention, but I need to hurry. I’m expected at my destination.”
Azure Lake did not turn around as we entered the circle of light. “You won’t be able to make that journey now. So stay here with us. It may be always night here, but we have plenty of food and room for you stay. After all, it’s been a long time since a new stallion came into town.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m on a business trip. I thank you deeply for saving me this past night, but I must be on my way.”
At my words, she turned around, and my gaze met hers. Her eyes held a deep sorrow as she looked upon me. “You can’t.”
“What do you mean?!”
“This is now your home. Now do come in, it’s cold out here.”