The Wayfarers

by TheFictionAddiction

Chapter Twelve: The new kids on the block...

The train didn’t linger long in Ponyville. There were many more stops to make that day and the conductor was hell bent on beating his old rival, the clock. Its shrill whistle pierced the air like a saber as the great mechanism of its inner workings spurred to life with great whooshing sounds. Within seconds the beast was lumbering off once more, leaving a small number of its passengers behind to face whatever may.

“Okay… what in the actual fuck is going on here?”

The trio of wanderers were fresh off the train, their muscles still stiff from the uncomfortable seats, and already Alabaster was turning a head or two with his colorful vocabulary. A mother who happened to be passing by with her daughter cupped her hooves over the young filly’s ears and hastily shepherded her along, throwing a scowl at the vulgar pegasus from over her shoulder. Thankfully most other ponies around were out of earshot.

Usually a comment like this would have earned quite the reprimand from Little Whisper. At the moment, however, she found herself too enthralled with the mesmerizing spectacle unfolding before them -or, to be more accurate, the spectacle unfolding above them- to find her words. High above the earth’s reaches, pegasi swam through the boundless waters of the sky. This in itself was not that extraordinary, however, what they were doing was. As the pegasi zoomed this way and then that way, they carried with them little bundles of grey fluff. Whisper thought at first that maybe it was cottoncandy. A second later and she knew that such an idea was preposterous. Eventually it clicked.

“They’re herding the clouds,” she muttered, her eyes growing wide enough to reflect fragments of the sun’s harsh glare. A mare wrestled a particularly wily ball of puff -the thing wretched and struggled within her grasp like foal being reared to punishment- as the two flew off out of sight. The handful of other pegasi floating nearby laughed and jeered, clearly handling their own loads with skill.

Poor cloud wrangling seemed to be a rather amusing joke among these feathered ponies, but it was a joke lost completely on Alabaster. While Whisper watched on in wonder and amazement, Alabaster did so with an expression edging on contempt. In contrast to the two friends, Midnight followed the trajectory of the working pegasi without betraying even the faintest hint of emotion. His features were a blank canvas beraft of color. Despite any of the pony’s levels of interest, all three of them failed to notice the figure that slipped up beside them. That is, until she spoke.

“Yeah, the weather team’s been a right mess since Dash left the other day.” The trio started at the voice, whirling around on their hooves to face the newcomer. The mare, whoever she was, spared not so much as a glance to the gaping ponies as she spoke. Her eyes, framed by the orange, curly locks that poured down her face, remained solely on the working ponies busying themselves amongst the fleeing flocks of clouds.

“It’s funny,” she continued, “You wouldn’t really think one mare would make so much of a difference to the work force, especially her, considering how much she lazes about most days.” She chuckled to herself and added, “Perhaps she wasn’t as lazy as we all thought...”

Her words trailed off momentarily, fluttering away like one of those many clouds being herded high above, but she quickly managed to find her train of thought once more. Turning her gaze away from the pegasi, she looked to the travelers with a bashful smile.

“Sorry. I just really like watching the pegasi work with the weather. My momma use to joke around that I lost my wings when I popped out of her. I come out here about this time every day just to see what they’re doing, sometimes for an hour or so when I can spare it. Just watching them twist and twirl so effortlessly through the air-” She giggled, trying to hide her sudden flush behind a hoof. “Sorry again, my thoughts get a little… flighty at times.”

The trio gawked at the mare unblinkingly, each with a varying shade of befuddlement. Whisper struggled not to blush as well. From the shifting of the mare's hind legs, the twitch of her curly tale, and the light tinge of musk carried on the rising breeze, Whisper suspected that ‘flighty’ didn’t quite describe the mare’s feelings.

“Wait a second,” Alabaster said, fighting to reign in the storm of questions raging in his skull, “Did you say ‘weather team’? Weather. Team.” He spoke the last two words with great emphasises..

The mare cocked her head and frowned at the pegasus. “Yeah, I did. You’ve never heard of a weather team before, stranger?” From her tone, Alabaster suspecting that he should have.

The faux laugh he summoned as he waved a genial hoof at the mare felt as if it would stretch his vocal cords till they tore. Acting was something better left in the care of those more who knew what they were doing. Like Little Whisper.

“Of course I have, you silly billy. I’m… a…” Whisper and Midnight peered at him with growing unease as the pegasus stumbled over his tongue. Then, with a grin, Alabaster said, “I’m just hard of hearing! Yeah, that’s it! Loads of loud music has wrecked these listening holes of mine. Bit of a problem really, now that I mention it. By the time I’m thirty I’ll probably be as deaf as a wart on frog’s ass.” Whisper facehoofed.

Thankfully, Alabaster’s prattling and Whisper exasperation went completely unnoticed by the mare. Her gaze was too busy fluttered to the wings folded atop of the pale stallions back. Something flashed in her eyes and the budding roses on her cheeks suddenly grew riper.

Whisper gave Alabaster a sideways glance. ‘Care to let me do the talking now?’ that look seemed to ask. Alabaster gave a small bow and motioned for her to go right ahead. The less talking he had to do the better. He couldn’t start any riffs so long as he kept his tongue locked up nice and tight, or at least, it would make it more challenging. There were still plenty of ways to cause trouble with his hooves...

“Hello there, my name’s Little Whisper,” Whisper began hastily, eager to draw the mare’s attention, “This talkative son of gun here is Alabaster and the one next to him is Midnight Dreary. We’re… new to Ponyville, so forgive us for any ignorances.”

“New to Ponyville, huh?” the mare tapped her chin thoughtfully as she studied them. Whisper didn’t like how her eyes seemed to flicker back and forth between him and Alabaster. It was as if the mare was… comparing them?.

Whisper managed to smile through the scowl that nearly peeled back her muzzle. Later she would feel utterly embarrassed by that abrupt rise in emotion, but in the heat of the moment, the usually tender mare felt a cornered lioness stir within the depths of her being and it was all she could do to keep her hooves to herself. Oh no, I think Al is starting to wear off on me.

“That’s right,” Whisper answered, “We came on the train that just left, in fact. I don’t think we’ve been here for more than five minutes.”

The mare’s eyes grew wide. “Really? Sweet! Ponyville always welcomes fresh faces. Well, where are you three from? From how worn out and dusty your saddlebags look, I’m assuming pretty dang far.”

Whisper had to bite back a grumble that tried to crawl up her throat. She had hoped that it might be just a bit longer before they needed to start spinning tales about their origins. Of all the ponies we could have ran into right off the bat, it had to be a nosy one.

“That’s not a bad assumption, actually. We’re from… well... a little bit of everywhere to be honest. Right now we’re just trying to find a good place to settle down for a while. Life on the road can be quite rough, you know? We figured that maybe a place to settle down for a time might do us some good.”

“How intriguing!” The mare tittered on her hooves. “Ponyville has gotten all sorts over the years, but never really any drifters!” This did not exactly ease Whisper’s and Alabaster’s growing discomfort. If vagabonds such as themselves were such an unusual occurrence, how likely would they be to stand out amongst these townsfolk? Dang it all, I thought that sheriff said they wouldn’t ask many questions!

“Well, if you are looking for a place to dust off your saddlebags for a good spell, than you can’t do much better than Ponyville. It’s larger than most of the towns south of Canterlot, so you’ll find plenty to do around here, but it’s nowhere near as gritty and stuffy as those big cities like Manehattan or Detrot.” Though it hurt Whisper’s heart to hear those cities she had dreamt about so feverishly talked about with such contempt, she couldn’t deny the excitement that elevated her spirits like a heavy breeze.

“But before any of that,” the mare continued, “If you really are looking to make a home out of Ponyville, then you should really go see Mayor Mare before anything else.”

“Mayor Mare?” Alabaster snickered. “Good grief, who names their child-” Whisper’s glare cut that question short. The stallion gave an apologetic smile and made a quick zipping motion over his lips.

Looking back to the mare, Whisper asked, “Mayor Mare, you said?”

“That’s right. If there’s anypony in Ponyville to talk to about settling down here, it’s her. She knows everything about this town!”

“Where could we find her?”

“Oh, that’s simple. Her office is at city hall, which is pretty easy to find.” She pointed down the cobblestone street that fled away from the train station. “Just follow this road. It’ll take you straight to the center of Ponyville. That’s where town hall is. And don’t worry about her office hours or anything like that. You can almost always find her either in city or somewhere around it.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, almost as if afraid someone might overhear her. “The gal is a bit of a workaholic, if you know what I’m saying. Anywho, I’d take you there myself, but I think it’s getting about time I head back to my stand. It was really nice meeting all of you though!”

“Likewise,” Whisper said, beaming gratefully, and Alabaster grumbled the same. Midnight only gave a polite nod.

The mare rushed off, her tail streaming in a line behind her, when she came to a sudden stop, her hooves skidding across the cobblestone. She spun back around and brought her hoof up to the side of her mouth as she shouted back at the them.

“I’m terribly sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! The name’s Carrot Top, I run a little stand over on the corner of Mane Street. You should totally come by sometime, I’ll give a good deal on produce! Anyway, bye bye now!” And with that, she dipped behind the corner of a building and was gone..

“Figures,” Alabaster said, ruffling his wings impatiently, “She looks like a carrot, her name is a carrot, and if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a carrot on her butt.. Hey Midnight, how much do you want to bet that stand of hers isn’t selling lemonade?”

Midnight glanced questioningly at the pegasus. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me?”

Alabaster staring at the stallion for moment, his annoyance growing. “Gee, I don’t know. Guess I’m just reminding myself that you’re still with us. You’re just so freaking quiet that sometimes I forget you’re tagging along…” Then Alabaster rubbed his chin and smiled roguishly at his newest friend. Midnight felt his innards twist with unease at the sight of such a thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, you know… just thinking that maybe we should get you a cow bell.”

Midnight’s pupils shrank as he took a tentative step back. “Y-you wouldn’t!”

Advancing upon the retreating pony, Alabaster’s smile grew into an evil sneer. When he spoke, his tone was low and sultry, as if he were talking to a lover. “Don’t tell me what I wouldn’t do, Midnight. I live off of spite.”

Much to Alabaster’s dismay, his fun was cut short as a heavy hoof connected with the back of his head.

“The hell, Wisp? I was just messing around!” he gasped, rubbing at where she had struck him. Whisper had reminded him quite promptly that her hoof had a bit of an edge to it. Shit, I think she might have actually cracked something!

Despite Alabaster’s seething and muttering, Whisper continued to wear the practiced smile she had worn for Carrot Top. “If the two of you are finished playing around, perhaps we could get a move on before the day lets out. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to still be prattling around come nightfall.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Alabaster grunted. “I take it we’re going to see this ‘Mayor Mare’?” A ghost of a smile returned to his lips as he said the mare’s name.

Whisper knew at once what that smile meant. “Be nice, Al… and yes. You heard that nice mare. Right now we need someone who can point us in the right direction, and it sounds like the mayor is going to be our best bet.”

As the trio set off, heading the direction Carrot Top had pointed them, Alabaster’s smile faltered. “Why do I get the feeling this is going to be awkward and uncomfortable?”

“It’ll only be awkward and uncomfortable if you make it.” Then, a bit nervously, she added, “Which, I have no doubt that you will.”

Whisper’s and Alabaster conversation droned on in Midnight Dreary’s ears like the background music to a particularly slow elevator ride. It wasn’t that Midnight didn’t care about what his friends were saying. It was simply that, yet again, his attention had been snared by the strange inner workings of Ponyville life. So entrancing was the show from above that he had somehow missed the bustling gale consuming those bound to the earth.

The houses built along Ponyville’s farthest reaches had acted as a curtain, shielding from sight the numerous skeletons of buildings standing within the town’s center mass. To Midnight, they looked like the half decomposed corpses of some forgotten giants long dead. Then he noticed the ponies in hardhats and bright orange vests crawling about the remains and shuttered. If the buildings resembled corpses, then did that make those working ponies maggots? That was a question he did not dare contemplate.

It was strange and intriguing to watch as the earth ponies moved about those great wooden bones. Nimble and fearless were they, even as the earth swayed a few stories beneath their hooves. The thought of staring down at the town from such a height made Midnight clutch at his stomach. He hastily averted his gaze in fear that the meal he ate before leaving Appleloosa would creep back up on him.

They’re like the pegasi… in their own right, anyway, Midnight thought once his stomach settled and his head stopped spinning. Above him, in one of those worksites, a stallion cradling a lunchbox allowed his rear legs to swing in the breeze as he made a seat out of a rather thin wooden beam. Apparently it was lunchtime.

“Good bit of renovation going on for such a small town like this,” Alabaster commented, watching the working ponies with a hint of admiration. Then he tilted his head to the direction of the glimmering castle looming overhead and added, “Although, that might have something to do with Mr. Fancy Pants over there. What’s the point of having a bird’s eye view from one of those towers if it means all you’ll see is a shabby little town, am I right? Judging from that glittering eyesore, they probably had enough bits to support most of the construction we’re seeing. Bet it’s making that view from up there a bit more palatable.”

“Will you quit it?” Whisper hissed. “Did you ever stop to think that if any of that’s true, then maybe some of these ponies wouldn’t take too kindly to some stranger badmouthing their kind and benevolent benefactor?”

Alabaster’s mouth opened to retort back, but then after a second of consideration, he only gaze a shrug. “Guess not,” he said. “I’ll try to keep a muzzle on myself, Wisp, but I can’t make any promises. You know how wily this tongue of mine can get once he gets going.”

Whisper rolled her eyes, but said nothing else. She knew well enough that Alabaster was just being his usual, snide self. Still, it would do her heart good if he wouldn’t talk so where everyone and their grandchildren could hear him. However, if Little Whisper was afraid of anyone overhearing them, her fears were sorely misplaced. The ponies they passed were far too absorbed with the checklist of jobs to complete to even notice the strangers, let alone their drabble.

They look so tired, Midnight deduced, watching as a hearty stallion with an orange mane and fiery coat plodded his way towards them. This stallion was hitched to a wide wooden cart that creaked and moaned as its wheels sputtered along the cobblestone street. The thing must have been old, older than even Sour Apple. It was the color of freshly fallen ash with blotches of black that scared the wood like sores. Despite these, the dying thing seemed determined to survive its current journey.

Though a faint smile touched the stallion’s lips, Midnight could see it was weak and fatigued. It was the smile of pony who had spent been through the wringer just the day before and then had woken up early today just to go through it again. However, it was also the smile of a pony who refused to let the work at hand tear down their spirits. Although this smile was something of a wonder for a pony as fresh to the world as Midnight, it was nothing new for Alabaster. In fact it was an expression he had worn many of times in the past few years... although, it was usually after a few shots of rum.

Whisper, Alabaster, and Midnight shifted to one side to make way for the stallion and his cart. Graciously, he gave the trio a slight nod and a smile, this one containing much more enthusiasm than one plastered across his face seconds ago.

“There must be a farm close by,” Whisper said once the stallion had passed from earshot. She watched his receding figure a moment longer, admiring the rippling cords of muscle in his powerful flanks. Whoever he was, he was of a healthy stock. She even thought, with an impish giggle, that he might give Alabaster a run for his money.

Midnight turned a skeptical eye towards Whisper. “How did you know he was a farmer? I didn’t see anything in that wagon that would hinted that… Actually, I didn’t see anything in that wagon now that I think about it. It was empty.”

“Seriously, Midnight? You couldn’t smell the hay?” Alabaster cut in, shaking his head. He seemed a bit amused by Midnight’s ignorance.

“As strong as the odor was, I wouldn’t be too surprised to learn that the guy baths in the stuff. Hay and sweat, the cologne of any real farmer.”

Whisper gave Alabaster a nudge. “You knocking on him, Mister High and Mighty? If I remember correctly, a couple of days ago, when we were crossing the desert, you didn’t exactly smell like a bed of lavender either. In fact, you smelt as if someone had dug you up from an outhouse. And I’m not even going to mention the cow trough.” That last bit made Alabaster scowl.

“I’m not knocking on him, Wisp. In fact, I respect anyone who can shift through the crap they deal with day in and day out. Bailing hay, shoveling manure, feeding cows. Screw that! Give me a roof that needs fixing, a quilt that needs patching, a ass that needs kicking, or a pint that needs killing and I’m a happy pony. But farm work?” He made a rather unseemly retching sound. “I’d rather dig ditches.”

Whisper rolled her eyes, but Midnight tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe there’s something wrong with my nose then, because all I could smell was musk… musk and dirt.” Come to think about it, Midnight might have just been smelling himself.

Alabaster wrapped a foreleg around Midnight’s neck and gave him a jovial squeeze. “Don’t worry, fella, after you’ve gotten a taste of the poor misery that is the work force, you’ll find your land legs real quick…” Then, with a shrug, he added, “Or you won’t. But I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head though. If that happens, you’ll only be living in a ditch, eating bits of litter for fiber.” As anyone would suspect, Midnight didn’t exactly find this too comforting. Although, if the last few days had taught him anything, than the pale pegasus was clearly just teasing him.

Midnight wasn’t the only one to take notice of the farmers fatigue. Surely if his untrained eyes had picked up the lines of strain and weariness etched along the stallion’s features, then there was no doubt that Whisper had as well. However, as she cast the net of her gaze farther up the street and studied the ponies bustling about, she couldn’t keep herself from frowning. That stony exhaustion on the farmer’s face echoed across the expressions of ponies passing them by.

I don’t like this. They remind me too much of the ponies from ho- The brakes to that train of thought brought it to a screeching halt. Whisper quietly scolding herself for it. The Dragon Lands were no longer her home, if such a horrid place could even be called ‘home’. She shook her head and tried again.

They remind of the ponies in the Great Plains, tilling about in gales of ash swept down from the Cinder Mountains. Their existence is a livable one, but not easy in the slightest. However, there was a small bit of comfort in this thought. If she and Alabaster could find a way to suffer a life in that choking hell hole, then they could surely do the same here. Though Ponyville didn’t look like the happiest place in the world, it appeared to be a million times better than the strange world they’ve left behind.

“Come on, you two,” Whisper said, feeling her heart daring to lighten a touch, “Let’s get moving. I’m pretty sure this mayor won’t be in her office all day.” Once untangled from one another, the stallions did as she bade.

“At least that sheriff wasn’t lying,” Alabaster said when he reached Whisper’s side. “From the looks of things around here, getting a job shouldn’t be too hard. Hell, we might have something lined up by tonight if we’re lucky.” He chuckled gleefully at the thought. “Won’t that be something, Wisp? No begging, no pleading, no promises of oral favours. Sure, more than likely we’ll get stuck with construction, but I’m sure we’ll learn the ins and outs fairly quickly. We always do.”

Whisper didn’t respond. Brushing back a few locks of her ivory braids, her attention gravitated to a tiny stall just ahead of them. The vendor of the stall could easily have been one of the oldest mares Whisper had ever laid eyes on -she never did have the misfortune of meeting Sour Apple. The old mare’s skin seemed to hang from her brittle frame like soiled canvas and her wintery mane was a frazzled mess that had somehow been restrained into a bun.

The mare was smiling motherly at a runtish colt peering up at her with pleading, doleful eyes. There was no context for Whisper to go off of, but nevertheless, what happened next put Whisper’s heart to the stake and melted it like an icicle.

Two huge baskets sat upon the stall’s wooden countertop. Both were filled to the brim with lush, juicy, crimson apples. A sheet of paper had been tacked to each of the baskets’ fronts, both reading ‘ONE bit fer ONE apple.’ The mare, ignoring her own notice, plucked an apple from the top of one of the piles and tossed it to the colt. The apple’s journey was a short one, and it ended with the colt’s teeth catching it mid-air with a nimbleness Whisper found a tad unnerving. His sorrow was washed away in a stream of sweet apple juice that dribbled down along his chin. A smile stretched along the corner of his mouth, just visible behind the apple..

“Thanks a bunch, Granny!” the colt cried, the apple still clutched between his teeth turning the words into a mushed slurry.

“Think nothin’ of it, little one,” she chuckled. “It’s a real scorcher today and a young’un shouldn’t be runnin’ about without somethin’ to cool ‘em off. Now, ya’ll get along. And be sure to tell ya folks I said ‘hello!’”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the last thing he said before starting off with a bound. In the colt’s wake, Whisper could barely make out a faint trail of spilled apple juice that stained the cobblestone below like raindrops.

Whisper’s heart soared and her hopes went right along with it. Ponyville couldn’t possibly be such a bad place if such a sweet and generous pony called it home, could it? Whisper thought not.

A skip found its way into Whisper’s step, and it was all Alabaster and Midnight could do to keep up with her. The two stallions shared a sideways glance, both seeming to wonder the same thing, but neither willing to voice the question they had.

In their newly revegetated pace, it wasn’t long at all before their destination drew near. The shadow of city hall fell upon them mere minutes later, one of its bottom floor windows alive with the flickering light of a candle.

Author's Note:

Not my favorite chapter. Tried my best to introduce the trio to Ponyville, and I guess that's all I can ask of myself for now. Feel free to leave your thoughts and critics.

~Ending theme, I guess...

Comments

[TheFictionAddiction]

7357986 Not sure if this was a backhanded complement, or if you were legitimately disappointed with the chapter. Either way, thanks man

Next chapter is about half way finished.

[The Villain in Glasses]

7358165

Well, if Ponyville persists to being the Nexus of Weirdness it usually is, then its safe to say that about a third of the players are in place for their part in the greater story...

[TheFictionAddiction]

7358432 I can understand. Finding natural breaks in the story is still something I'm working on.

[kildeez]

Can't believe it took me this long to get to reading this...cripes...