//------------------------------// // Land or Sea // Story: Yearbook February // by Regidar //------------------------------// Fluttershy’s jaw dropped as her eyes adjusted to the blinding white snow world before her. Poking from the drifts, she registered corners of homes sticking out from the sea of white, and with a few more blinks of her eyes, she saw hoofprints lining the pathways between drifts of snow. Meridian smiled. “Nice, isn’t it? Now, it’s certainly something more to look at when it’s not drowned by snow...” “So...” Fluttershy poked her hoof out the door, and watched in mild surprise as it sunk a full foot into it before hitting something cold and hard, which she assumed was either the ground or a doorstep. “This is your village?” Meridian nodded. “Yes, yes indeed. This is the largest reindeer settlement in Arctica, Clairvoyance! Population, fifty-three.” “Fifty-three?” Fluttershy looked up at Meridian. “And this is the largest?” “Reindeer are generally spread few and far between,” Meridian said, ushering Fluttershy back into his home, closing the door behind them. “It’s hard enough to get two families to live with one another, forget a town like you must come from.” “It’s a small place,” Fluttershy said. “Maybe three hundred ponies at the most.” Meridian sighed. “I can’t imagine what three hundred reindeer together would be like... I guess it would be chaos, truth be told; the elders here have to send off someone now and then because they say that it messes with their ‘collective psyche’.” “Do you think it does?” Meridian snorted. “Hardly. I don’t even think they even have a collective psyche, and they just want some peace. The reindeer who leave are hardly torn up by it, either.” Fluttershy sat down by her bundle of blankets. She looked around to the walls again, the star charts looking a bit different from the maps. The charts looked like they were in better condition, but a film of dust sat upon them. The maps were frayed around the edges, and the places they were pinned to the walls were torn slightly, as if they had been taken up and down fairly regularly. “You’re not too into what the omens and the divination, are you?” Fluttershy asked. She froze, blushing slightly. “Oh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude...” Meridian’s face displayed a mixture of bemusement and concern. “No, it’s quite alright... you haven’t imposed anything on me that I wouldn’t have told you eventually, what with my big mouth.” He took a breath. “No, I’ve never been one to think that maps of the stars were more important than maps of the ground. In fact, I only see stars as good for the use of one thing; navigating out on the ocean. Still, the elders would rather check constellations and moon-to-planet alignments to see if there’ll be a wind that rips the wrong number of petals from an arctic rose instead of setting out to find new places...” Meridian was now scowling, pawing the floor with his hoof. “They’re all mad, according to me, anyway...” Fluttershy stood up, and walked towards a large star chart near the doorway. It was not as well used as the maps, yet it did seem to be devoid of dust, suggesting that it had been taken down occasionally. She carefully examined it; it appeared to be a map of known stars—no particular constellation, just a map of the sky. “That’s the star map for ocean navigation,” Meridian explained. “Or, it would be, anyway, if I ever got the chance to go out on the ocean...” “Are your days too busy to be able to head out?” Fluttershy asked. “That and aside from the ship that you sailed in on, there isn’t any suitable boat of any kind out here.” Meridian trotted beside her. “I’m looking for any way out of here, whether it be by land or sea, and yet...” Fluttershy turned to the reindeer, tilting her head slightly. His eyes were downcast, and his posture was somewhat sullen—it looked as though he were carrying a heavy load of bricks upon his back. “If you want to go somewhere else, why don’t you just ask the elders to send you off? It sounds like they’re more than eager to reduce the amount of reindeer that live here...” Meridian chuckled, and smiled slightly; yet it was a sad smile, one that sent a pang of sorrow into Fluttershy herself. “If it were that easy, I would have tried it already. Truth be told, err...” Meridian trailed off. “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever asked for your name.” Fluttershy went pink, her wings twitching nervously as she shrunk down. “O-Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m Fluttershy...” Meridian too looked uncomfortably nervous, and it was fairly evident that neither of them were adept at social situations. Fluttershy would even hazard to guess that she was the first one in Meridian’s home in quite some time. “A-Anyway,” Meridian said, voice wavering as he tried to break the awkward silence. “Truth be told, I’m not even the slightest bit prepared to live out there on my own. I may love maps, and have an amazing sense of direction, but I’d be savaged by some polar bear hunting party for sure. Not to mention the lack of grasses up to the north...” He paused, and then continued, “I can’t go south because that’s all ocean...” “So do you just... pine for it?” Fluttershy asked. “I could never do that...” “Then what would you do?” Meridian asked, shooting Fluttershy an apprehensive look. “I’d bundle up, say goodbye to my friends, leave the warm comfort of my hometown and take the next ship out to Arctica,” Fluttershy said softly, smiling at Meridian. The reindeer returned her smile, his brown eyes twinkling. “Oh, you are a clever mare...” he mused. Fluttershy’s smile widened. “Why, I’ve never heard anypony say that to me... it’s usually my friend Twilight who gets those remarks.” “Well, I’m not just anypony,” Meridian said shooting her a half-grin. “I’m not a pony at all, mind you.” “Of course...” The two sat in an awkward silence for a moment, before Meridian mustered the courage to break it. “So, you’re from down south...” “Yes, I’m from a little town called Ponyville,” Fluttershy said, a question gnawing at her. “Oh, um, if you don’t mind me asking... do you go out and explore the places all out on your own to make maps?” Meridian smiled, a bit more genuine than nervous now. “No, to tell you the truth... I have telescope upstairs that I use to look around. Like I said, going too far up north puts me right in polar bear territory, and I can’t exactly just head out to sea...” “May I use it?” Fluttershy asked. Meridian nodded kindly. “I don’t see why not...” “I’d just like to find where my cottage is, if that’s alright,” Fluttershy said, moving from her sitting spot. “I was coming in from the shoreline when I got lost in the storm...” “Of course...” Meridian walked to the back of the cottage, and gestured behind a large crate. “It’s right up here...” Fluttershy carefully trotted past Meridian, and scaled the stairs in moments, resting on the top landing as she looked around the second floor. It was clustered with boxes and trunks, chests and crates, with many more things covered by blankets or sheets. Some of them, judging by the layers of dust and considerable amount of happy spider families, had not been touched in ages. “I inherited the place from my parents,” Meridian said from downstairs, slowly beginning to climb the steps. “My mother was exiled when I was young, and my father was lost in the last polar bear raid on our village...” Fluttershy gasped. “I-I’m... I’m so sorry...” Meridian looked up, smiling slightly, although he looked very much still downcast. “Oh, it’s alright... mind you, that was ten years ago.” He sighed, taking a few more steps to end up beside Fluttershy. “I just haven’t had the heart to go through their stuff. Except for the telescope, of course, my father always said I got my love for navigation from my mother.” Fluttershy slowly walked through the attic during the somber silence that followed, shying away from the darker patches of the room. As she neared the telescope, she noticed a significant lack of clutter surrounding it. The area surrounding and including the telescope was devoid of dust as well. “May I?” Fluttershy asked, lifting a hoof and gesturing towards the telescope. Meridian nodded. “Be my guest,” he said, bowing his head slightly. Fluttershy walked over towards the telescope, and set her hoof on it gently, leaning down and closing one eye. She blinked, letting her vision adjust as she peered through the lens and out across Artica. Once her blurry sight cleared, Fluttershy let out a small gasp of awe. The view was breathtaking; all of Arctica's majesty was laid out before her, as far as she could see. She could see over the frozen hills and snow-covered plains of Arctica, and as she pivoted the telescope, she found her view of the forest to be equally astounding. The trees were frosted thick with frost and snow, the tall pines moving gently in the Arctic breezes. When she angled the telescope downward, she came across two reindeer fawns frolicking and galloping together just on the outskirts of Clairvoyance. Fluttershy’s lips turned up in a small smile as she watched the two play, upending snow and leaving long trails of tracks in the snow. With a few more swivels of the telescope, Fluttershy finally managed to locate her cottage. She almost didn't find it—on her first pass of the area, all she saw were the very corners of the roof sticking out of a snow drift. However, the top of her chimney, nearly hidden in the snow, gave away the location of her cottage. “It looks like it's to the north of here,” Fluttershy said, pulling away from the telescope. “I had better go check to see if everything of mine is okay in there.” Fluttershy bit her lip. “I don't know how sturdy the building is. It might have even collapsed in the blizzard!” “I don’t know,” Meridian said, chuckling slightly. “We reindeer know how to build houses that can withstand blizzards. Although... this one was a lot stronger than usual.” “How much stronger?” Meridian trotted nervously in place. “Well... the last time a blizzard this big came through, it took out about half the village.” Fluttershy swallowed nervously. “But I’m sure that everything’s fine this time!” Meridian added hastily. “In fact, I haven’t heard about or seen any buildings here that’ve collapsed! I’m sure your cottage is fine.” “Oh, I hope so...” Fluttershy returned to the telescope, looking through it once more. It was still trained on her cottage, and she jostled it around a bit in a vain attempt to discern more information about the building. Sighing, she slowly moved the telescope away from her snow-buried cottage, moving it along the landscape towards the ocean. “Oh!” she gasped, violently swiveling the telescope around, searching up and down the valley, and then closer to the ocean. “The penguins! Are they alright? That storm was so terrible!” Fluttershy’s breath grew ragged and labored as she continued her frantic search up the shoreline for her penguin friends, before the soft touch of a hoof on her shoulder brought her out of her frenzy with a jolt. “Relax, Fluttershy,” Meridian said. “The penguins are natives to the land. Why, I’d wager to say that they may have been here longer than the reindeer ourselves! I’m sure no harm came to them.” Fluttershy turned to look at Meridian, her mane slightly frazzled, her cheeks awash in blush. “R-Right. Sorry, Meridian. Just the thought of those poor little penguins caught in such a horrible storm...” “Your compassion is incredible,” Meridian said, smiling. “Not too many in our village pay attention to the penguins. They consider them too whimsical and... unenlightened to be worth much attention.” “I don’t know how anybody could think that,” Fluttershy said. She thought back to the previous deer she had met, and furrowed her brow. “Well... I suppose I can. But I don’t understand it all! How could anyone be put off by those darling creatures?” Meridian shook his head slightly and chuckled, his smile growing. “You’re such a welcome change, Fluttershy; I thought I’d never meet anyone else out here in this wasteland who could actually look at what’s in front of them instead of staring straight up into the stars.” Fluttershy’s blush burned a bit brighter, and she returned to the telescope, squeaking quietly. There was a moment of awkward silence as she stared intently through the lens, not looking at anything in particular. “I-I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments. “I don’t compliment very well...” “It’s quite alright,” Meridian said. “You remind of a doe in the village, actually; her name is Frea, and she’s soft spoken and if she’d stop spouting odd death-related prohecies, she’d be quite the—” he was cut off by a sudden gasp from Fluttershy. “What? What's happened?” “Down by the ocean,” Fluttershy said, eye still glued to the telescope. “Have you seen this before?” She stepped away from the telescope, and let Meridian in next to her in order for him to take a look. Meridian leaned down, adjusting the piece for a moment before letting out a small “ah!” “So you have seen it!” “Yes,” Meridian said. “It’s a small boat that’s been there for a while. Big enough for... maybe six ponies. Three reindeer at the most. It’s mostly frozen into the ice, since it is the dead of winter, but in the middle of the summer melt, it comes free more often than not.” He stood up from the telescope, and stepped to the side, giving Fluttershy room to return to it. “Why haven’t you tried to use it?” Fluttershy asked. “You told me there was no suitable boats out here!” “No one would go with me,” Meridian said, sighing softly. “I couldn’t fair the seas alone, and that craft requires more than one to sail it. Like I said—no suitable craft.” He looked out the window, squinting slightly. “Besides, I doubt it’s seaworthy anymore. It’s been out there so long, the wood’s probably warped and splintered from freezing and contracting so much.” “I see...” Fluttershy trotted over to the window, and placed her hooves on the sill. Squinting out into the bright sunlight, made all the more intense due to the reflection off the snow, she looked in the direction of the boat. “Suppose if it were still seaworthy?” “Again, I have no one to go with me,” Meridian said. “I know a decent amount about navigation, and a little bit about sailing, but not enough to work a vessel all on my own. Especially one that requires more than one job to be done at once.” “I don’t imagine deers are much of sailors,” Fluttershy said. “Do correct me if I’m wrong, though.” Meridian shook his head. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. I learned everything from a few sailing books in my personal collection. My parents were avid bibliophiles, so I grew up much more well-read than many of my contemporaries.” Fluttershy took a deep breath. “May I... may I borrow one of these books on sailing?” she asked. “Well, I don’t see why not,” Merdian said, shrugging. “Although, I hardly think there’s enough knowledge in these books to make any single being skilled enough to sail that boat alone.” “Well, I wouldn’t be boating alone,” Fluttershy said, her voice much quieter than usual. “Or at least, I hope I wouldn’t be.” “Oh?” Meridian said. “Who would you be—” he pauses, his eyes widening, his ears pinned flat to his head. “Oh. Oh.” Fluttershy grinned sheepishly at him.