//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: The Decline of Sunney Towne // Story: Fools and Drunks // by Jordan179 //------------------------------// So began the last two years of our lives, though of course we knew this not. I attained my thirteenth year, and began to grow toward marehood. I started to ... things changed within me, and my mother showed me how to handle them with neither sin nor shame. Yes, Snips. That is what I meant. I thought ye moderns more squeamish about such things than we rustic Ponies of the Century of Disaster. Never mind. Oh no, dear Snails. Schooling was for letters and numbers and books, and remember that I in any case was schooled by my grand-dam, then my mother and Princess Luna when Dainty Hoof fell too ill to help me in such matters. 'Twas our mothers, or elder sisters, or other mare-kin, who explained such things to us, in those days. Oh yes. Princess Luna gave and lent me books from Foreverfree. I had to read them and write reports on them to her satisfaction. She also gave me some simple training in combat, though the serious drills would wait until I entered the Academy in the city. Which, alas, never happened. It is bad to push a child too far in such exercises, before they are close to full growth -- it can harm her. I did not mind this -- what do ye now call it -- "home work?" I was eager to show my merits, to prove my worth, to Mine Own Most Beloved Teacher. I meant to be no leech of a favorite, demanding honors and pensions to be Luna's friend. I wanted to be of value to the Realm and to mine own dear Princess, to do good in the world. I wanted to learn how to defend little fillies against the evils that might beset them in lonely places. I wanted to be Night Watch. She did not exactly grade me, Snips. She would read my reports, and praise me when I had gotten to the gist of the matter, and suggest further paths to walk. When I erred, she would point it out -- she is very honest -- and tell me the reasons for my errors. She was frank in this criticism, she would not make of my mistakes sweetmeats to savor; but neither was she was she harsh. Princess Luna is an excellent teacher. In any case, I became by one measure a mare, though of course I was but a young teenaged filly. I sometimes pranced around in "grown up" clothes and did my hair in more mature styles, and Luna agreed that I was a little filly no more. We both laughed at this: I knew well that she was over fifteen centuries old, and that I really still was a little filly in some ways. I also grew in stature -- Princess Luna would often bring me little feasts, and encouraged me to eat fish and eggs and certain fruits, that I might grow up big and strong. Which is what I did. I have big bones ... nay, Snips, thou needst not shudder, I shall not show you them again ... and first I shot up all gawky, mine own hooves too big for my legs, it seemed. But then I grew stronger, aided by exercises Luna had me practice, and ... well, you see me now, as I looked in my late fourteenth and last year of life. I know I am sturdy, like mine father, and I think in time I would have become fair pretty. My kin said I was pretty, and so did Luna, but they liked me well enough by then for other reasons. Perhaps some good brave Guardspony would have courted me, spoken for me, pledged his troth? I had dreams of that ... he would have been big and strong and handsome, caring and true ... well, all fillies no doubt have such dreams. I suppose it matters naught, now. The weeks and months passed. As I grew in size and strength and knowledge, rising as I was into marehood; my dear father descended deeper into madness. There was naught that either mine own mother Mitta, or his friend Three Leaf, could do to check this descent. Starlet did not try; she, four years my elder, was busy dancing the dance of her own flowering; falling in love with our cousin Roneo. None outside our family could sway him sufficient to stop his sinking. And I ... I did not try hard enough. This is my great shame. I might have been able to save him. He loved me most of his three children. I might have reached that noble mind, buoyed it up with my love, brought it safe to shore across the stormy seas of insanity. Had I known what would happen ... but I could not have known. Yet I should have known. More, I should have tried harder, whether or not I knew. He had risked his life, taken sore wounds, to save me and mine mother. Why could I not have spared more time to save him? Time ... of which now I have seen more than enough for ten mortal lifetimes ... I reveled in my new role as Luna's student, and as an aspirant to the Night Watch. My world had widened, beyond our little village. I had learned lore of the long-ago past and of far-distant lands, conversed with an Alicorn Princess as her trusted friend, been vouchsafed gossip which I realized must be Secrets of State. I was destined for importance. Mine own dear father, who had been the hero of my small fillyhood, paled in comparison to the doings of paladins. He was my paladin, but I had lost sight of this. Scorned by me for Luna, and by Starlet for Roneo, my father turned to the first of his children, his sole son, who yearned for his love so sorely that he would abet even the direst folly on his part. The one who would never say him nay, even if the path he followed grew ever-darker, lost in the mazes of madness. He turned to Gladstone. It cannot have been easy being Gladstone. His mother Three Leaf scorned by our father's family, he himself imputed a chance by-blow rather than the true son of the stallion his mother loved, and our father almost forced to publicly pretend to this in order to keep Dainty Hoof happy. Aside from the insult to himself, there was that to his mother. Which Three Leaf ne'er did deserve; she has always been a good mare. Her only fault may have been to love our father too much, and we could scarce blame her for that, as we loved him too. Our father tried to show Gladstone love, but Grey Hoof never dared to do so in public. We -- my mother and Starlet and mine own self -- we knew that Father loved him too. Gladstone, I ween, has always doubted this. Gladstone went to great lengths to win that love. He was always trying to put himself before our father's notice. When his Mark first appeared, he feared that Grey Hoof would reject him for it -- and this was well before Dainty Hoof fell ill, long before Grey Hoof actually became suspicious of the Marked. So, to be Blank like our father, he regularly scraped it off with a trowel ... ... I see ye both wince at that, and ye are right on this; t'was a desperate and painful thing to do. What is more, he kept this up all his breathing days -- he had to do this at least once a month, because it would grow back. To suppress a Mark -- that is not easy, 'tis an inner part of one's own self, struggling to come forth. Why, dear Snails, 'twas a smiley face on stonework. Gladstone's Talent is masonry; he built most of the walls in Sunney Towne in its last years as a normal village, and at one time he wanted to journey to the City Foreverfree to try to apprentice with the Masons there. At one point I promised him that I would try to get him in; 'twould have been easy to find him a master to learn the city ways of stonework, with Princess Luna's influence on his side, and she would gladly have done me such a small favor. That was before he apprenticed himself to our father's madness instead. After Grey Hoof's mother died, more and more he was sure that the only safety for Sunney Towne lay in us, as completely as might be, cutting ourselves off from the outside world. The village Watch, which Grey Hoof had formed to fight bandits, began to turn away other sorts of Ponies from Sunney Towne. First, beggars of the sort who might be deemed likely to steal if they did not find alms to their liking. Then, poor and ragged Ponies of all descriptions. Then, peddlers of the degree who had brought the Mark Pox. Finally, any travellers he did not already know as friends he would force back onto the main road. Sunney Towne was not on a through road. The main road from Riverbridge to the City Foreverfree passed northeast of us. The main road from Riverbridge down the Motherwater passed west of it. By-roads from those northeast and west roads led to our town, and in time we might have become a center of commerce -- that was why Pretty Hoof and Dainty Hoof had built the big warehouose and fairground at our gates -- but of course Grey Hoof's new policy prevented this. The small peddlers who encountered Grey Hoof and Gladstone's leveled spears and hostile glares were friends of bigger traders, whom they told of the cold greetings they had gotten. The bigger traders then decided not to take such an unfriendly road. Without knowing what he did, Grey Hoof was choking off the trade that might have let Sunney Towne heal the damage done to it by the plagues. It was still our breathing days, but our village was starting to die, failing of the high hopes that Peasy Hoof had. And Grey Hoof knew he was to blame, but he could not understand what he was doing wrong, or how to change his course. He was trapped in the idea that he must protect Sunney Towne, and that the outside world was naught but a source of danger. And his eldest child and only son, Gladstone, trotted at his right hooves, supporting Grey Hoof's decisions every beat of the way on the trail to failure. Not because Gladstone wanted us to fail, of course. It was simply that -- for the first time in his life -- Gladstone was openly acknowledged and accepted by his father, and Gladstone would do or say anything rather than risk losing our father's approval. More and more, the part of my life which I cared about was my future with Princess Luna, as a member of her Night Watch, at the Night Court of the Castle and City Foreverfree. Have you seen the City of Canterlot, that smiles down on the Vale of Avalon? Have ye walked its streets? 'Tis it not surpassing fair? Ye do nod, and thrice. The train makes this trip easy for ye, I do suppose. 'Tis not so easy for me, for I must return to Sunney Towne each eve to be murdered, and 'twas a long weary way to Canterlot for me during most of mine unlife. Yes, Snips, I can float right up the mountain. But not in sunlight, and by day Mount Avalon is bathed in the rays of that orb. And 'tis too far for me to attain in a single night, not and return. It requires careful timing to make it to Canterlot and return. I managed it a few times back then, though. There were nights of worsening weather, which I beheld with joy for I knew that on such a night I might roam far from my little dead old village and see the wider world. I swept like a cold shadow through the Everfree and made my way up the Avalon until I might find a bridge or ferry. Greatly daring, I crossed as a pair of trembling golden eyes, hid in deck cargo, shuddering with nausea at each shift of the water running far too closely beneath the vaprous little cloud that was the most I might manifest. I have heard of mortal sea-sickness. I have never been sea-sick, but I avow that the sickness of a Wraith with water running beneath her be as bad. But 'twas worth it! For attaining the other side, I swiftly crossed the fields and hills, the great mountain lowering above, then as the Sun rose safely behind clouds and fog I ascended Mount Avalon like a happy soul approaching the Gates of Paradise! And then -- the city! The Ponies! The strange wonders brought from far-off lands! I would find some treasures, often tossed away by the wealthy Ponies who lived on those lovely heights, and flee home, to squirrel it away in this very Sanctum. My heart would still be singing, even while I was murdered again. Those journeys were magical, the more so because 'twas but with cunning and labor that I made them! But that was much later. In my breathing days, Canterlot was not the royal capital. It was but a provincial one for the Vale of Avalon north of the River Avalon. The capital of the realm was the City Foreverfree, founded at the feet of the Castle Foreverfee, its very name a gage thrown down in defiance of all forces that would seek to enslave Ponies. The Sisters meant by naming it thus to say that never again would Ponies tremble in fear of tyrants, never would we be slaves. We would be forever free -- and in that design, they largely did succeed, though they saw more sorrow in its working than they planned. The City Foreverfree, unlike Canterlot , was a widely-sprawling town. This was by the cause that while Canterlot perches precariously on its mountain ledge, Foreverfee nestled within the loop of its River, then also called the Foreverfree. Ye may have seen the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters, which still mostly stands overlooking the now-dry bed of that River toward Ponyville. To its southwest, between the curves of the river loop and some distance, stretched the City. Alas! The City is desolate! It stands no more! But that is getting ahead of my tale. It was a vast city. Broad, stone-paved streets, laid out in a great grid, provided easy travel through the city even in the worst weather; they were lit up at night and patrolled by the City Watch, so that they were safe in the hours of darkness. Over this grid was lain a radial pattern of even wider avenues, converging on four great Plazas -- that of the Castle Gates, the Harmony, the Sun and the Moon. At its height -- a few decades before I saw it -- the City had well more than an hundred thousands of Ponies within the walls; still more in the many suburbs that lay beyond. It was then the biggest city on our continent, having surpassed the Crystal City a century before. Even the plagues and panics had but little waned the City Foreverfree. The City had a pure water supply, brought from miles away by aqueducts; spacious sewers and well-cleaned streets; many and well-staffed Houses of Healing. There were great forges and crowded markets; the City was right on the portage between the Rivers Motherwater and the Foreverfree. Its Ponies were healthy and prosperous; and, from what I saw of them, happy to boot. It was the Royal City, and the Sisters had planned it well. The greatness of the City much moved me. I came from a mere village of a hundred or so; and ere I saw the City the largest town I knew was Riverbridge, which had somewhat more than a thousand. All Sunney Towne might have fit with ease into any apartment building, and Riverbridge into one of the great residential islands that towered six stories and took up a whole block. The City was more than a thousand times more populous than Sunney Towne, more than a hundred times than Riverbridge. It was its own Earth entire. And the City was not just big. 'Twas also beautiful. The Castle rose on its height, straight and strong, commanding the city and the river below; its many turrets bedecked with banners flying bravely from their tops. Over the buildings of the City itself rose tall towers, faced with pure white marble so that they dazzled by day by the light of the Sun, and shimmered by night by the light of the Moon. These towers looked down on the streets and the teeming thousands of Ponies and stranger creatures, from all over Equestria and beyond. Where the streets crossed were the plazas great and small, each with its own fountain, gushing with the sweet water carried thither by the aqueducts. There were magnificent mansions, home to the rich; and the humbler houses and apartments of the middling and poorer sorts; but all were pretty and well-trimmed, showing the pride the Ponies felt in their selves and in their great City. Most beautiful of all places in the City was the great Plaza of the Moon. This was in the west part of the City, making a huge square connected by wide avenues with the Plaza of Justice in the north before the south gates of the Castle; the Plaza of the Harmony in the south before the south gates of the City; and the even larger Plaza of the Sun in the east part of the City. The Plaza of the Moon was of course Princess Luna's special square, and I would have liked it well enough for that cause alone, but Luna had also made it lovely, as she did with all that she touched. The Plaza of the Moon was broad and paved in black obsidian, which shone in the light of the Sun and sparkled at night in the light of the Moon. By some art, Luna had placed the night sky in the glassy stones, so that when one stood there, it was as if one stood in the night firmament, with the glories of the Universe spread out beneath one's hooves. Luna told me once that this was how she hoped all Ponykind might someday stand: amidst the Universe. She hoped that we would by then have learned to love all the Universe and who lived therein, so that we should be worthy to wield such powers. I tell ye this that ye might ken how high and noble and good was Princess Luna Selena Nyx. For I shall soon speak of the worst sins she ever did, and I want ye to know that she was fair, not foul; that what ill she did was for the cause that Sombra had corrupted her, and 'twas the semblance of him within her that twisted her brilliant mind and great heart to evil ends. She was a heroine: it vexes me that, for so long, she was remembered only as a monster. At the center of the Plaza was a great crescent moon, in the shape of Luna's own Mark, which stood upright upon a pedestal of obdurate stone. The crescent was made of moonsilver, enchanted so that it was constantly cold, so that frost formed on it by night, and water dripped off it in the morning. Around the pedestal were carved a thousand stars -- and, Luna told me, there was some great secret she had wrought into this statue and pedestal, one which would well serve the Ponies of future ages. But never did she reveal the details of this secret unto me. Most of the Ponies of the City simply passed through the Plaza of the Moon, knowing neither its beauty nor its wonders, for the cause that by day it looked bleak and barren. But by night -- oh, how the stars shone in their stones, and I often saw the Nocturnae entranced by the vista. With their night-eyes, they could see colors and shades invisible to the grosser orbs I possessed in my breathing days. I saw this once when I was still alive, through a Night Guard helmet, enchanted to give me the same sort of night-eyes. I have seen it many times, since I became as I am now, by forming night-eyes of mine own. At times, the Nocturnae still flock back to the Plaza, braving the perils of the Everfree as it became after the wreck of the City. There, they dance by moonlight above the Plaza, whirling and wheeling above the star-filled stones in measures complex and strange. They know of me, and fear me not. I am part of their stories and songs; a minor piece of their Traditions. The Plaza of the Moon was more than merely beautiful, of course. Like all else Luna wrought, it had a useful end. For around the perimeter of that great square there were an arsenal, barracks, observatory and the headquarters of the Night Guard and the Night Wach. These structures stood solid and strong; they were a bastion within the walls, which a defending force might hold and from which it might counterattack an invader. And yet they were beautiful, as well, as was everything My Lady made: I do not think she was capable of crafting any unnecessary ugliness. Lovely as in all truth were the City Foreverfree and the Plaza of the Moon, the Moon Princess took me to the City not merely to see the sights, but to prepare me for training. She brought me into the chambers of the Night Watch, where I was tested. I did my best, and did well in measures of body and mind. However, I felt chastened at the revelation of the depths of mine own ignorance, though Princess Luna once told me that I did well for one of rustic rearing. I did not want to merely do well for a country yokel. I wished to simply do well -- to make My Lady proud of me, with no excuse for any earlier lack of learning. So I studied and tried twice as hard, and by the end, I think I was doing well by any standards. I like to think I was doing well by Luna's standards. For she said I could certainly join the Night Watch, and in time even her own Loyal Band, if I continued to train as I had done, and well we both knew that these were no soft plums, to be doled out to pampered favorites, but rather posts of peril, in which the inept would be hard-pressed even to survive. So, surely, she must have thought well of me, then? I like to think so. I fear I shall never know. Ask her? O, dear Snails, I wish I might, but -- she has not sought me, since her return. She must know where I am, that I still endure: her senses are beyond both those of mortal Pony and undying Wraith. And mine own unlife is bound to her very soul. Nay, 'tis plain to me that I failed her. I aimed to ward her, and the Realm. I could not even ward mine own -- well, thou shalt see. Thou shalt see. 'Twas toward the end of the years in which I knew Princess Luna that she started taking me often to the City, the better to prepare me for my future duties in her service. These times with Luna in the City Foreverfee were wondrous. Before or after my times of testing, Princess Luna would take me about the town -- especially the Moon Quarter, which lay about her Plaza, and was home to the Nocturnae and other Ponies who belonged to the Night Guard and Night Watch, or loved or served or traded with them. It was then that I first truly got to know the Nocturnae, and learned some of what they will let an outsider know of their ways and Traditions. Princess Luna also had me meet some others in her personal service, especially her Loyal Band, as she styled them. I could spend hours telling of them, but we have not the time this morn, and 'twould be off the straight track of mine own tale. I shall speak of but one, today, a name ye well may know, for she became a legend in her own life's time. I speak of Snowdrop Flakewright, the Blindfighter. Ye have heard of her? Ye have not? I am saddened by this, for she was a great champion and still greater captain. None, save a being of great might, could match her in direct combat -- such was her fighting skill -- and as a general, she held back the foe from the North, saving the provinces which had been the Crystal Empire from utter ruin. That one such as her, a great heroine, should be forgot ... it bringeth home to me just how great a span has passed ... years ... decades ... centuries .. since last I drew living breath. Thou hast heard of her, Snails? She has not, then, been wholly forgot? Tell me, friend, for which of her great war-deeds does she still endure in Pony memory?Oh. As a silly little filly, when she crafted her first snowflakes, and was for this discovered by the Sisters? This, and nothing more? 'Tis sad. Though, in truth, it might well have made her laugh, for 'twas of her snowflakes that she was ever the most proud. She was, in her heart, an artist, who loved to make things of beauty. She studied the arts of fighting and war so that she might serve the Realm in an warlike age. She would much rather have wrought her snowflakes for beauty alone, than as a weapon to turn the snow storms against the Ice Hordes. Snowdrop was special; a wonder; one of a kind. And she was mine own friend, and remained my friend even after I breathed no more. She had no fear in her, and feared me not even after I became a Wraith, which is a thing I find rare in the world. She died and passed on nine hundred seventy and two years ago. Still, I miss her. I digress, for we approach the bitterest part of my tale. And though I have not breathed for more than a millennium, still enough of me is equine that I would very much rather dwell on the sweet times; on the nights I kept company with Princess Luna and Snowdrop and mine other new friends, exploring the City Foreverfree and looking forward to my glorious future as a heroine of the Realm, fighting alongside them against the foe ... than on mine own failure. And all the woes that came forth from this failure.