//------------------------------// // 9 - Elevation // Story: The Other Side of the Horizon // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// “Excuse me?” asked Idube. “Applejack?” Applejack looked up from her breakfast. “Yeah?” “I have been thinking,” said Idube. “I was originally planning on taking a safe route to Kulikulu, but after what I saw yesterday, you are obviously no stranger to danger.” “Okay…” Applejack wasn’t entirely sure she liked the direction this was taking. “So I was wondering if you would be willing to take a slightly more dangerous path to Kulikulu in exchange for a decrease in travel time,” said Idube. “We will take more risks, but we will reach Kulikulu a day or so ahead of schedule.” “Hnng. I don’t know,” said Applejack. She stared down at her rice waffles with a frown. “Compared to yesterday, what would it be like?” “Safer,” Idube said immediately. “Much, much safer. The nyokakubwa’s stretch of river is always the most dangerous part of the journey. Well, it was.” She looked off into the distance and grinned a little. “The dangerous parts of the next portion will mostly be difficult terrain, nothing we cannot see coming. We will be prepared.” Applejack toyed with her plate for a few seconds. As she thought about it a bit more, she decided that, yeah, she could probably handle terrain. She’d prefer not to, but if it got her back to Twilight faster, she could do it. “Sure. Why not?” Idube grinned and clapped her hooves together. “Excellent. Most excellent. The team will be delighted to hear that. Excuse me.” She headed off to another table, where most of the rest of the zebras were eating. Applejack looked up at the zebra across from her. “Bhiza?” “Yeff?” Bhiza asked through a full mouth. “Y’all wouldn’t happen to know the kind of path she’s talkin’ about, would you?” Bhiza swallowed and nodded. “Yes. Path is tricky, but barely dangerous. It is shorter, but most travelers want to avoid danger if they can.” She smirked. “You are not most travelers.” “Uh… thanks.” They left shortly after sunrise. The boat was even more cramped than usual, thanks to the addition of several carts for their cargo when they traveled overland. Luckily, they didn’t have too long to travel; the boat breezed through the jungle (which, Applejack noticed, was thinning rapidly) and came to a sort of improvised landing within an hour and a half. As the zebras unloaded the cargo, Applejack looked east. Not too far away, a mountain range loomed above them, tall and dark and foreboding. In fact, it was so tall that most of the sunlight they were getting was coming from a low pass between two mountains; if the pass hadn’t been there, the sun would’ve been blocked. Applejack squinted at the pass. It didn’t take much to guess that that would be where they were going; to her (admittedly inexperienced) eyes, it was the only logical route. She couldn’t make out much details, not at this distance. She looked to the left and right, trying to see if there were any other similar passes, but her view was blocked by mountains. Bhiza noticed her. “That way,” she said, pointing at the cleft, “is way most fast to Kulikulu, but can be hard at times. Not for you, though.” She grinned and clapped Applejack on the back. “Zebras who do not want danger go that way.” She pointed south. “There is more easy way behind mountains. More long, but more easy. But we want fast. Msafiri haogopi miiba!” She laughed. “Eh… what was that last one?” asked Applejack, cocking her head. Bhiza paused, tapping her hoof on the ground. She turned and yelled, “Zecora! Je, unaweza kuja hapa?” Zecora trotted over, and the two of them exchanged some quick words in Zebran. “Travelers do not fear the thorns,” Zecora explained to Applejack. “Troubles must be often borne.” She looked up at the pass. “It’s a proverb in Zebran. Fear not problems in your plan; success always involves risks in situations such as this.” “Hmm. ‘Travelers don’t fear thorns.’ Catchy.” They had three carts, each one loaded up with the diplomatic gifts and their own supplies. One zebra took the boat back to the inn, while the rest headed on. There was a path leading from the landing; not paved, but well-worn. After only a few minutes, however, it split in two, with one heading south and the other heading straight for the pass. The southern path was considerably more beaten down and used, while the one going to the mountains almost looked like it was in danger of being overgrown. Just as Applejack had suspected, they took the path to the mountains. The path began to slope upward, and the jungle grew less and less threatening. It wasn’t long before it felt like any old forest back in Equestria (except for the Everfree, obviously), just a bit hotter and bigger. Tension left the group, tension Applejack hadn’t even been aware of before. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and just not caring about anything much. Every now and then, Zecora would disappear into the jungle and return a few minutes later with a plant of some kind in her mouth. Bhiza, who’d taken enthusiastically to Applejack’s lasso lessons, kept pausing to try and loop tree branches with the lasso Applejack had made for her. She only made it about a third of the time, but that never slowed her down. Applejack even caught herself listening to the birdsong. They were quite different from the songs in Equestria, but that meant she could enjoy something she’d never heard before. It was all quite tranquil. Eventually, they came to what Applejack could only describe as a “wall”. A sheer cliff face right in the middle of the path, it loomed up and up and up, over a hundred feet high, and it made Applejack’s hooves quake just looking at it. For a moment, she wasn’t sure how they would get up. Then she saw it: a thin path, snaking back and forth up the wall, all the way to the top. Even from the bottom, she could see that the path was only narrow enough for two zebras side by side, and then only if they wanted to get really cozy. And she had to climb that. She gulped. At Idube’s direction, one of the zebras pulled on a set of horseshoes, lined with spikes on the bottom. After a few moments of psyching herself up, the zebra ran to the cliff and started climbing. Not just climbing, she practically ran up the nearly-vertical slope; she moved like a cat up a tree, the spikes digging into the rocks for grip. She ignored the paths almost completely, going straight up whenever she could. At that rate, she’d be at the top in a matter of minutes. “What’s she doin’?” Applejack asked Bhiza. “And why ain’t we followin’ her?” “Path too narrow for carts,” said Bhiza. “But there is crane at top. See?” She pointed at a tiny little thing near the top that Applejack had assumed was a rocky outcropping. On closer inspection, Applejack realized it was the arm of a crane sticking out over the edge. “She is looking if crane is good,” continued Bhiza. “If not, we cannot take carts up.” The crane might be broken? Applejack’s heart sank. “So we may-” A voice hollered down from the cliff. “Sisi ni nzuri!” Bhiza grinned. “We are good. We can go.” Already, zebras were lining up, getting ready to go up the path. But Applejack still felt weak at the knees. She looked allllllll the way up and swallowed. “Maybe… maybe I oughta go last. It’s a good idea to put the pony most likely to slip last.” “You do not like heights?” Bhiza asked, smirking. “Darn tootin’ I don’t. They’re so… high.” Bhiza giggled. “Do not worry. It is not so bad. And, here.” She expanded the loop on her lasso. “This goes around your middle. If you fall, I catch you.” She grinned. Applejack looked at the lasso. Looked at Bhiza. Looked at the lasso. She sighed. “Fine. Give it here.” It wouldn’t be the best way to catch her if she fell, but she’d rather have a not-so-good way than no way at all. And she had to get up there somehow. She stepped into the loop. Bhiza pulled the loop shut around Applejack’s trunk, making it snug but not tight. “You feel good?” she asked as she tied the lasso’s free end around a hoof. “You can…” She paused, then made exaggerated breathing sounds. It took Applejack a second to realize Bhiza didn’t know the word “breathe”. “Yeah,” she said, “I can breathe just fine. Let’s…” She swallowed. “Let’s just get it over with.” Bhiza muttered “breathe” a few times under her breath, then started walking up the path. It was a bit fast for Applejack, but she could handle it. She followed closely behind Bhiza; the rope had plenty of freedom, she was just being paranoid. Idube herself was staying at the bottom; well, someone had to hook the carts up to the crane, Applejack supposed. Actually on the path, it was a bit wider than it had looked from the bottom, but it was still quite narrow. Bhiza went up it like it was an ordinary sidewalk, but Applejack mashed herself against the wall and slowly ground her way back and forth across the cliff. She was not taking chances, no sir. She kept expecting a zebra to fall past them with a scream, or for an avalanche to occur, or for the path to collapse beneath them, or for them to come to a gap in the path that she hadn’t seen from that ground that she’d have to jump, or for any one of a number of other catastrophes to happen, but nothing did. Of course, that only made her more and more apprehensive as they kept going up; the last minute didn’t have anything go wrong, so surely this one must, right? At one point, she jumped at something dropping past them, but that was just the hook of the crane above getting lowered. She wasn’t sure how long they climbed. It couldn’t’ve been too long, but it felt like ages, crawling along the path. How high up were they? The top couldn’t be that far away. Right? She should’ve counted the number of switchbacks while at the bottom. Applejack looked up, but couldn’t see the top of the cliff. Inching towards the edge of the path, she cautiously looked down- -and went right back to hugging the wall even more forcefully than before. Nope. Nope nope nope that was high nope nope nopenopenope that was really high nope nope looking over was stupid nope why did she do that nope nope nope nope the ground should not look that small nope nope nope nopenopenopenopenope NOPE. Bhiza broke out into a fit of giggles. “Do not worry,” she said as she tried to hold it in, “top is near.” Applejack glared at Bhiza and flicked her ears and tail, but said nothing. As it turned out, Bhiza was right. Less than a minute of wall hugging later, and they finally crested the cliff, coming to a large landing. Most of the other zebras were lying on the ground, panting from the exertion. The two that weren’t were the big, bulky, muscular type who probably did something like this every day. Applejack collapsed to the ground, not from weariness, but from finally having more than three square feet of ground to lie down in. She seemed to be missing that a lot on this trip. Bhiza lay down beside her, breathing deeply. “That was not bad,” she chuckled. She began untying the lasso from around her hoof. “Yes, it was.” Applejack loosened the lasso from her trunk and started wiggling out of it. “Not,” replied Bhiza. “Yes,” Applejack shot back. “Not!” “Yes!” Bhiza laughed again and pulled the lasso away from Applejack. “Not. But we are at top, so it is not important.” “Guess not.” Applejack rolled over and finally got a good look at the top of the cliff. It was fairly bare, mostly dirt and rocks. Mountains towered over it on either side, but the pass was still there, cutting an easy, mostly level path between the two slopes. What grabbed Applejack’s attention, however, was the crane. The arm, solidly built, hung out over the cliff, easily far away enough to allow most cargo to be lifted or lowered. The lift cable itself ran away from the crane over to a large wheelhouse, where it wrapped around a spool. The spool was connected by gears to a wheel that Applejack could already tell was for raising and lowering the load. The outside of the wheel was moveable and had steps angled into it for zebras to put their hooves into. The center of the wheel was stationary, and it stuck up several feet above the outside. Spokes, eight of them, jutted out from the central point over the wheel; each one had a sort of harness designed for a zebra’s body connected to it. It was easy: zebras braced themselves in the harnesses and pushed against the wheel to pull up cargo. Simple, but the simplest things were sometimes the best. A zebra was standing on the end of the arm of the crane, looking down the cable. Even though Applejack could see the harness that kept the zebra from falling, she cringed and looked away. The zebra turned to the ones lying around and yelled, “Yeye ni tayari!” The zebras began stirring. Stirring slowly, but stirring nonetheless. Bhiza nudged Applejack. “Hook is connected. You want to help lift?” “Absolutely,” Applejack said, jumping to her hooves. “You know what to do?” “I think so.” With the zebras still getting ready, Applejack trotted over to the wheel and stuck herself in the nearest harness. Designed for zebras, it was at first a bit high and large for her, but it only took a few seconds of nudging around to find out how to adjust it, and soon it was sitting comfortably around her chest. It even had padding that she hadn’t noticed before. Neat. She pushed her chest against the harness, dug her hooves into the nooks, and began walking in place. After a few seconds of gathering up slack, she felt the first resistance as the cart was lifted off the ground. She steadied her hooves and pushed with all her might. The wheel turned slowly, barely winching in three feet. A few beads of sweat ran down Applejack’s face. This was too hard to do alone; why weren’t the zebras helping? Applejack managed to look over her shoulder. All the zebras, Bhiza included, were still off the wheel and staring at her, jaws in varying levels of openness. The only exception was Zecora, who was fitting herself into her own harness. Applejack grunted and pushed harder against the wheel, pulling another foot on the cable. Still the zebras stared at her and did nothing. She tried her best, but she could barely move the cart another inch. Locking her legs in place, she glared at the zebras. “Am I gonna have to do this all by my lonesome, or are any of y’all gonna help an itty-bitty bit?” A few more moments of gaping. Then the zebras finally got their act together; as long as there were empty spaces, they took up locations on the wheel, fitting themselves into the harnesses. But they didn’t start walking. They dug their hooves into the nooks and pushed on the wheel slightly, but they didn’t move. Instead, they all turned to one of the zebras who hadn’t taken a place. She pulled out a largish drum, one that looked well-used, and laid it on the ground in front of her. Settling her hooves on the drumhead, she bellowed, “Moja!” She paused for a second. “Mbili!” Another pause. “Tatu!” And again. “Nne!” After one last pause, she began beating the drum. It wasn’t a big drum, but it was one of those where you felt the sound it made more than heard it; Applejack’s teeth vibrated uncomfortably, and she cringed a little. The zebra beat the drum on the same slow beat she’d yelled out the words, and the zebras on the wheel started walking, lowering their hooves on the same beat. Applejack followed suit. With everyone walking in the same way, the wheel rotated easily. As they walked, the drummer slowly played faster and faster, with the zebras matching pace. The drummer stopped speeding up when they were at a usual walking pace. She yelled out words in Zebran, almost a line of a song; it followed a simple tune, but felt like it was shaped by the beat rather than the beat getting shaped by the words. “Sisi ni kusukuma!” And all the zebras answered. “Sisi ni kusukuma!” “Kama bora tunaweza!” “Kama bora tunaweza!” “Tumpeleke gari hii!” “Tumpeleke gari hii!” “Na sisi kusafiri!” “Na sisi kusafiri!” This went on for a while, with the drummer never repeating herself. She occasionally stumbled over a word, drawing some subdued snickers from the walkers on the wheel, but she never stopped. Applejack tried to go with the rest of the zebras, do the call-and-response, but with no knowledge of what she was actually saying, it was harder than she expected, even with the words shouted at her before she had to repeat them. Still, she did as best she could, and no one seemed to bat an eye at her. After a few minutes, the zebra at the crane hollered something out. The drummer began slowing, and the wheelers followed suit. Applejack stole a look at the crane; hanging from a harness and inching its way up above the edge of the cliff was their first cart. The drummer yelled out again. “Na… malizeni!” The wheeler stopped and dug their hooves in, leaving the cart dangling from the crane. The hoist cable was winched over to the cliff and the cart was released from its harness. The drummer pulled a lever next to the winch, and the hook slowly unspooled freely, without any effort on the wheelers’ part. Which was good, because giving any more effort would’ve been hard for them. The zebras were panting, some of the more tired ones getting swapped out for ones who hadn’t gotten a spot on the wheel, but Applejack felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but fine. A bit thrilled, actually. She hadn’t expected just plain walking, against that much resistance, to feel that good. The feeling of actually doing something, maybe. She’d been on boats for too long. One zebra came up to her. “Do you want a rest?” she asked. “I can push.” “Nah, I’m fine,” said Applejack. She wiped some sweat off her forehead. “Find someone else who needs help.” The zebra gave her a look, but backed away and continued around the wheel. The zebra on the crane hollered again, and the drummer went back to the drum. “Moja!… Mbili!… Tatu!… Nne!” And they began the process over again. Applejack’s heart was beating much harder than it had in a long time by the time the next cart came to the top, but some of the zebras, particularly the ones who hadn’t been replaced, looked like they were dying. They were hanging in their harnesses, their forelegs draped over the poles, their breaths coming in wheezing gasps. It was hard, but it wasn’t that hard. Or was her earth pony magic just keeping her going where the zebras’ lack of magic wasn’t? Applejack had never been one to make a big deal out of being stronger than unicorns or pegasi, not next to active reality manipulation or flight, but now, next to a complete lack of magic, she was surprised at just how much it was pushing her. Bhiza had been off the wheel the second time, and was staring at her. “Do you… want… to rest?” she asked slowly. “Nope,” said Applejack in between breaths. “It’s just one more go, right?” She grinned. Bhiza blinked a few times. Her jaw hadn’t dropped, but Applejack suspected it was a close thing. She slowly walked around the wheel and found another zebra to replace, but was still staring at Applejack. Applejack snorted, rolled her eyes, and waited for the drumbeat to start up again. The last cart came up with Idube perched on top of it without a care in the world or a safety harness. Once it was settled on the ground, she jumped off and said something to the zebras that made them all sigh in relief and drop the ground. “We takin’ a break?” Applejack asked Bhiza. “One short, yes.” “Good.” And Applejack flopped down next to Bhiza. She probably couldn’t’ve done another lifting; her heart was throbbing in her ears and her legs felt like they were about to fall off. She couldn’t imagine what the zebras felt like. (Except for Idube, who hadn’t really done anything. Git.) Applejack’s mind drifted back to when she’d first gotten on the wheel. When the zebras were just staring at her. “Bhiza? At the beginnin’, why’d it take so long for all the others to get on the wheel?” “You pulled up cart by yourself.” “Only a few feet,” scowled Applejack. “What, did they exp-” But Bhiza shook her head. “Zebra cannot do feet few. With two? Probably. Not with one. Cart is heavy. You?” She poked Applejack in the chest. “You did it alone. You are strong. Strong very. Much more strong than zebras.” “Ah.” Most likely earth pony magic was keeping her going, then. “Well, it’s… it’s a little magic I got in me.” You’d’ve thought someone had stuck Bhiza with a pin, she jumped up so fast. “You are magic?” she whispered loudly, shoving her head up against Applejack’s. “What can you do? Can y-” “Whoa, steady on,” said Applejack, shuffling away from Bhiza. “It ain’t much, it just keeps me goin’ for longer and makes me stronger.” Bhiza looked at Applejack, then at the other zebras lying around. “Much more strong.” “Yeah. All earth ponies have that.” “Earth ponies?” Hmm. Had Livingstone not told zebras about the different kinds of ponies? Or had Bhiza just not heard of them? Oh, well. Applejack batted at her ear as she tried to figure out how to explain it. “Well, um, in Equestria, there’re three main sorts of ponies.” Bhiza cocked her head. “Sorts many of ponies?” She sounded very interested. “Yeah,” Applejack said, nodding. “Now, as an earth pony, I don’t have wings or a horn, but you saw Twilight back in Bandari Mji, right?” “That…” Bhiza frowned for a moment. Applejack could almost see the conflict going on in her head; Twilight was supposedly a pony, but she had wings and a horn, while Applejack and Livingstone were definitely ponies, and yet they had neither, so what was the right term for Twilight? Eventually, Bhiza gave up. “That pony purple?” “Yeah. Her. You saw her wings and horn, right?” “Yes, but she is princess. I heard princess was type special of pony. Livingstone said.” “That’s half true. Twilight’s what we call an alicorn.” “Al-i-corn,” repeated Bhiza. “Alicorn.” “Right. Now, see, alicorns are comb- conglo- Hang on.” What would be the best word for Bhiza? Maybe… “They’re all three races at the same time.” “Combination of they?” Of course she knows the first word I throw away. “Yeah. Exactly. Now, earth ponies like me, we got nothin’ special on the outside. It’s all in here.” Applejack laid a hoof on her chest. Bhiza half-closed her eyes and made a bored face. Really? “It’s silly, I know, but it’s true,” Applejack said with a sigh. “Cliché” would’ve been a better term, but she doubted Bhiza knew the word “cliché”. “Now, the horn. Unicorns look almost exactly like Twilight does, minus the wings, so they only got the horn, and they use their horn to cast magic.” “I understand,” Bhiza said, nodding. “Like abadas.” “Abadas?” That was a new one. “People small. This small.” Bhiza held up her hoof at a height that was barely taller than Apple Bloom. “They live near Zebrabwe in country another. Can use some magic. You might see they in Kulikulu.” “Alright.” This is goin’ well, Applejack thought. “And finally, the wings come from the pegasi. Th-” Bhiza gasped and her eyes almost bugged out. “There is race whole of fliers?” she whispered. “All have wings?” “Yeah. I know a few of ‘em.” “You know pe-” Bhiza stopped. She tapped her hoof on the ground a few times, then looked down and asked, “What is pegasi one?” “Pegasus.” Bhiza raised her head up again and frowned. “Pegasus one, pegasi many? Not pegasuses many?” She snorted. “Stupid. But you know pegasus?” “Yeah. Several, actually. There’s one, name of Rainbow Dash, I think you might like. She’s-” Idube yelled and Bhiza sighed. “We need to move again.” She got to her hooves, as did the other zebras. “Can you tell I more about pony types as we go?” “Sure,” said Applejack. “Now, like I said, earth ponies like me…”