//------------------------------// // Chapter 25 // Story: Of The Last Millennium // by BlndDog //------------------------------// Chapter 25 “Hey, Scootaloo. Wake up.” Scootaloo groaned. Is it morning already? “What time is it?” Morning Rain asked groggily. Scootaloo’s eyes shot open. She was stretched out awkwardly on the wagon bed, and the sky had turned to stone. The city wall was made of boulders and mortar, similar to the islands of Wintergreen. The arched entrance was at least four storeys high, and so deep that it looked more like a hallway than a door. Living moon orchids decorated the shaded interior of the tunnel, with fat, almost succulent leaves and flower stalks reaching out like jungle vines. Scootaloo squinted as the wagon emerged from the tunnel into the Garden of Shadow. It was not nearly as shadowy as the name implied. The road was as wide as a hoofball field, paved with big slabs of slate and carefully filled in with black mortar to be as flat as a ballroom floor. Raised flowerbeds lined the street in regular intervals, each one planted with a tangled mess of stems bearing shiny, colourful fruit. Dwarf apples trees, peach and pear sent out their burdened branches like umbrellas. It was the kind of scene that haunted the nightmares of Canterlot’s finest and best-paid landscapers. There were many griffins and ponies out and about, but the tension was evident. One family of griffins ducked behind a flowerbed as the wagon passed. A flash went off far in the distance; the pegasus photographer dropped behind the tall stone building and did not reappear. Young children ran into the streets with skewers of meat for the dogs, but stopped in their tracks when they recognized Gari. The dogs stopped in front of a big building with six floors. It looked to be an octagon, surrounded by a moat of clear blue water. A single walkway led to the front door, wide enough for ten ponies to cross shoulder-to-shoulder. “Come with me, Gari,” Noctis said, giving them the slightest glance before turning towards the walkway. The dogs unhitched themselves from the wagon and lumbered to the moat for a drink. The guards followed them; a few even took off their armor as they approached the water. “You three are free to go,” Gari said. “This is my business now.” “I’m afraid it is more complicated than that, Gari,” Noctis said. “You must come in as well, Scootaloo.” Rainbow Dash was suddenly hovering in front of Noctos. Even Gari was caught off guard. “Scootaloo’s not going anywhere with you,” she growled. “You wanted Gari, and her she is. Leave everypony else alone!” Her eyes wandered towards the water, and her anger was instantly replaced with fear. Rainbow Dash dropped down onto the stone walkway and took one uncertain step backwards. Her head twitched as she struggled not to look into the moat. The guards giggled among themselves, while the dogs sat on the shore panting contentedly. “You’re all sick,” Rainbow Dash said under her breath. She ran past Gari and pushed Scootaloo and her brother away from the water. Rain tried to get back to Gari; Rainbow Dash caught him in the chest and easily shoved him off his feet. The mare was shaking, her eyes swimming with tears. “Let them go,” Gari said. “Come on, Noctis.” One of the dogs got up and followed them. Whenever it tried to nuzzle her Rainbow Dash shooed it away. It whimpered piteously when she snapped her wing at its big black paw. “Rainbow Dash, stay with the dog!” Gari called. “He’ll guide you!” Rainbow Dash did not acknowledge the instruction. The dog had backed off a bit, but showed no sign of leaving. They went on like this for a block and a half, drawing far too much attention. Finally Rainbow Dash slowed down. Her gaze locked onto the nearest flowerbed, and she emptied her stomach noisily into its soil. The dog nuzzled Scootaloo; instinctively she scratched his ear. His black leather collar bore a small metal plaque engraved with a sixteenth note. Rainbow Dash breathed deeply as she sat down against the base of the flower bed. Her face was wet with tears, and there was half a bean bush stuck in her mane. At any other time Scootaloo would have laughed. The crowd dissipated, driven by a handful of sensitive citizens. The dog lay down beside Rainbow Dash and rested its head on her neck; this time she did not resist. It was a long time before Rainbow Dash stopped crying. The dog held Scootaloo and Morning Rain under his gigantic paws, looking at them from time to time. His hypnotic black eyes radiated calm; Scootaloo did not feel self-conscious at all lying in the street of an unfamiliar city. “Scootaloo,” Rainbow Dash hiccupped. “Scootaloo, listen to me. Whatever’s happening with these Children of the Night… don’t be a part of it. By Celestia, we have to get out of here!” The dog put his forelegs over Rainbow Dash’s shoulders and pulled her closer. At first she struggled, but there was no escaping his embrace. “What happened back there?” Rain asked nervously. Rainbow Dash’s mouth opened and closed. Her eyes were wide and full of fear; she was trying to say something, but she couldn’t. That was the worst part for Scootaloo. Rainbow Dash, one of the bravest ponies in Equestria, was scared out of her wits. What’s in the water, Dash? “Stay away from that moat,” she said when she calmed down somewhat. “Just stay away from it. If you can’t leave Gari, at least stay away from that moat. Don’t drink from it, don’t swim in it… don’t even look at it. Please.” “What’s wrong with it?” Rain pressed on. “Stay away from it!” Rainbow Dash snapped. The dog adjusted its grip and licked her face. Scootaloo climbed onto the dog’s back and looked around. The passersby did not stop to look at them, but it was not an unkind gesture. In a few short minutes it seemed the citizens of the Garden of Shadow had come to an agreement that here was a private matter that did not concern them. The signs above the doors were written in an utterly alien language. Unlike cursive Equestrian Standard, the symbols on these signs were discrete blocks. Most were based on a circle, with one or two horizontal lines inside. Sometimes there were dots too. A few of the shops had window displays. Through these Scootaloo recognized a luthier and a shoemaker’s shop, though their ware was of the strangest kind. Further down the street was a set of double doors thrown wide open, revealing a room stuffed floor to ceiling with nothing but crossbows. Next to it… Scootaloo’s jaw dropped. For a minute she could do nothing but stare. She was smiling from ear to ear when she slid off the dog and started down the street. From her position she could only see a sliver of the shop’s interior. Fine dust wafted out of the open door. Hanging from the ceiling on delicate hooks were sets of disembodied wings: gaily-coloured, four-lobed butterfly wings; long, V-shaped albatross wings; bat wings in every color of the rainbow. She was barely aware of the dog getting up to follow her. “Scootaloo,” Rainbow Dash said, sniffing back the last of her tears. “Are those the fake wings you were talking about?” Scootaloo stepped over the low threshold. The smell of the shop made her grimace; like a mix of fried meat and paint. The floor was covered in a layer of fine white dust, broken only by a trail of lion prints. “Good afternoon,” a large griffin called from behind a rack of wings. “I’m Gabe.” The feathers on his head all ran in the same direction, so that he looked bald. On his nose was a pair of spectacles that magnified his brown eyes to absurd proportions. “H… hi,” Scootaloo stammered. Her eyes wandered all over the room, trying to take in everything. There were beautiful gear boxes of wood or bronze, inscribed or painted or plain. Harnesses made of leather or cloth, padded or unpadded. Membranes painted to look like feathers, or made of silk so thin that they were practically invisible. Scootaloo was drooling almost as much as the dog. “You are here for a set of wings, I suppose?” Scootaloo nodded quickly, forcing herself to face the griffin. “Well, let’s have a look. Come over here.” Gabe reached into a drawer and pulled out a tape measure. When he beckoned her forward Scootaloo saw that he had two thumbs, one on either side of his hand. With one he held the tape, with the other a thick pencil. Rainbow Dash and Morning Rain waited at the front of the shop, as fascinated by the foreign contraptions as Scootaloo. The dog lay in the doorway with his hindquarters sticking out into the street. Now that she had calmed down Rainbow Dash was a source of encouraging smiles once again. Yet there was still a great deal of uneasiness lingering in her eyes. Scootaloo’s thoughts wandered to the moat, which had looked to her like nothing more than a big pond. Was it a really big fish? A shark? A kappa? Gabe talked almost continuously as he worked. Mostly he mumbled numbers to himself, but he spoke to Scootaloo sometimes. He was not gentle in stretching out her wings and finding her range of motion, and he was completely unapologetic. Rainbow Dash was especially annoyed when he suggested jokingly that he should take a few pinions for the fletcher down the street. “I’m finished,” Gabe said at last, releasing Scootaloo’s sore wings. “I have some good news. Your wings are quite strong as they are, and all the muscles are there. You won’t need a full rig.” Gabe moved as he spoke, his hand skimming quickly over the cluttered shelf above his workbench. He grabbed a small brass gearbox with two black bat wings attached. It was about a quarter the size of the one Grace used, and its underside was curved like a saddle. The griffin padded her back with a towel and got to work adjusting the straps to fit her wings. “Do a lot of ponies need these things?” Morning Rain asked, looking at an ornate silver gear box. “I’m here for griffins mostly,” Gabe replied. “But there are the odd pegasi with bad wings. Not to say your wings are bad, Scootaloo. You have beautiful wings…” Scootaloo tapped her feet restlessly. Gabe seemed to be working slower and slower. She moved her wings when she was told; the prosthetics followed her motion more closely with each adjustment. Its weight was disappearing; the soft straps on her wings began to feel like her own skin, whale bone and silk like new primaries. “That should do it,” Gabe said, snapping both thumbs in a quick rhythm. “I can get you a temporary harness for now; I think I’ve kept you long enough. Try that for tonight. Come back tomorrow and I’ll get you something permanent.” The harness was made of layered blue cloth and fastened with metal rings. Scootaloo would have flown then and there were it not for Gabe’s express warning. “So…” Rainbow Dash said as she looked Scootaloo over. “How much is this going to cost?” “Nothing for you,” Gabe said. “The Children of the Night take care of these things. They’re all busy dealing with the sylvanocians right now, but life goes on for the rest of us.” “Thanks,” Scootaloo said, fighting back happy tears. She could feel the air on her new wings. What had once been inconsequential motions became powerful strokes that swept up dust all around her. The well-oiled gear box on her back coordinated the prosthetics perfectly. I can fly. “Go on then,” Gabe said with a kind smile, waving his strange hand dismissively. “Give that a try.” The dog scooted backwards to let the ponies out. His broad shoulders barely fit through the doorway. Scootaloo took a running start. Her wings snapped open with a bang, catching the air instantly and nearly flipping her upside down. Her hooves lifted off the ground. Instinctively she kicked a few times; a part of her still deemed this unnatural. The harness stretched slightly under her weight, but all the buckles held. The ground fell away quickly; she could feel unfamiliar winds in her mane already. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a blur of colour. Rainbow Dash grabbed her and climbed quickly. The red shingled roof flashed beneath her, barely a foot under her dangling hooves. “Rule one of flying, Scootaloo,” Rainbow Dash said, “watch where you’re going.” Without warning she let go. Scootaloo let out a short yelp, but her wings took over immediately. She turned in a wobbly circle to face her sister. Hovering in place would take a little more practice. Scootaloo had never seen Rainbow Dash so happy before. With her overused Wonderbolt uniform, she didn’t look much like Rainbow Dash at all. There was an almost thoughtful glint in her purple eyes; admiring even, but not quite that. Morning Rain lagged a little behind, his big wings flapping tentatively. He hid his amazement with a mischievous smile. Scootaloo knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. “Race you to the moat!” And just like that Rainbow Dash’s warning fled from her mind. Scootaloo leaned down and angled herself towards the glistening moat, losing one precious second as she tried to figure out how to go forwards instead of up. “Scootaloo! Wait!” “Come on, Dash!” Scootaloo called, moving quite quickly already. Air was tricky in its suppleness; moving took barely any strength at all, but to slow down required a whole new level of finesse. Already Scootaloo was moving as fast as she had ever gone on her scooter, though the lack of references in the sky made it feel slower. The wind stung her eyes; she squinted and flapped her wings even harder. Morning Rain glanced back. His eyes widened when he saw his sister on his heel and gaining. The grey fog exploded out of the octagonal building, hissing through every window and blowing the doors wide open. Morning Rain plunged into it at full speed. Scootaloo turned around, but she was going much too fast to stop. Rainbow Dash was approaching fast, reaching out with her hooves. She was screaming something. There was neither light nor sound inside the fog. Somepony grabbed her from behind, clamping her wings closed. Her captor accelerated upwards. Scootaloo’s vision lit up like a fireworks display before she blacked out.