A Golden Wish

by MelancholyIguana

2. The Pilot Episode

"We're flying! We're actually flying" Pinkie shouted at the top of her lungs, flinging her hooves up. It always is more fun with your arms in the air after all.

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!" Lyra responded, covering her eyes in a fit of panic. She writhed as the pilot, who was sat in front of her, reached back, searching the panicking mare.

"Stop squirming!" The pilot growled. Her voice was that of confidence with a slight hint of... Pissed-off-ness. Her face was a shade of cyan. Her eyes were indefinable beneath her tinted goggles, her mane and tail however were completely hidden beneath her aviator jacket.

"I DON'T WANNA DIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!" Lyra shrieked over the rush of air. Tears started to visibly stream down her face.

"It'll be your own fault if you do!" The pilot grabbed her hooves and forced them down between her legs before roughly strapping the safety belts over her shoulders and around her waist before clicking them into a buckle between Lyra's now trapped hooves.

Leaping over Lyra, the pilot landed in front of Pinkie, almost in a pose.

Awesome.

She rose from her action hero stance and stared down at Pinkie, only to find Pinkie had already locked herself in and was politely smiling up at her pilot with her hooves placed neatly between her legs.

"Hm," she grunted, eyeing her passenger.

"Nice jacket." She turned and flung herself back into her seat, landing perfectly. Grabbing a microphone in one hoof and the plane's joystick control in the other, she proceeded with an announcement.

"OK new passengers, listen up!" Her words blasted from speakers in front of Pinkie's and Lyra's seats. "I'm gonna make this quick and sweet for you. Yes! You are in the air! Now to move on to more important things! No! You cannot leave the plane! No! Clouds cannot support your weight! No! Removal of your seat belt is not permitted!" Pinkie raised her hoof. "AND NO! YOU CANNOT TASTE THE RAINBOWS!!!" Pinkie lowered her hoof again. "I don't care what skittles says! Rainbows can range up to over 23 million scoville depending on which colour you try! If you don't know what that means, it means don't bloody eat them!" The pilot turned with a smirk. "I'm looking at you Pinkerbelle!"

Pinkie looked out over the landscape around her. Clouds in all shapes and sizes made a world much like the one below. Only made of cushions instead. It was like a fluff appreciation day at a sheep convention which was sponcered by cotton wool.

"Oh yeah, one last thing! In the event of a crash, please do not attempt to leave the plane as you will be dead!" She laughed over the microphone. Lyra continued to whimper helplessly.

Pinkie looked at her seating arrangement. She might as well make herself home whilst she was there. She had never been on a plane before, but she had heard stories about them. Unfortunately there were no air hostesses, salted peanuts or duty free on this flight. On a brighter note, there was no inflight movie of Biodome by Pauly Shore either.

It just seemed to be a plain old plane. Like the ones from those stories Bravery used to tell. A spinning rotor on the front pulled the plane forwards and the constant stream of prayers from Lyra was keeping the plane up. The outside shell of the plan looked like flimsy aluminium over what was possibly a wooden skeleton.

Do you reckon that's what planes dress up as during Halloween? Rosie asked.

"Don't be stupid! Planes are pagan and therefore don't celebrate Halloween." Pinkie followed.

Don't you mean Nightmare Night? Said Mag. Short for Magenta, Mag was the brains inside Pinkie's... brains.

Shut up Mag.

Pinkie rubbed her temples. It was bad enough when her own psyche argued against itself.

"The point is!" Pinkie shouted, silencing them. "I don't think this plane is that structurally stable."

The cyan mare seems pretty confident. I wouldn't think about it too much if I were you.

"That's not easy when both of you two keep talking about it!"

Fair point.

"Oh, it could be worse. At least it is only you two." Pinkie sighed, leaning her head back against the cushioned seat.

Hey guys, what you talking about? Pinkie threw up her hands in frustration.

Nothing, go back to sleep Lightish-Red. Pinkie couldn't think of another name for the only male voice in her head. So after a long debate they both decided that Lightish-Red would be the best name.

"Seriously, you are all kinda making me feel a little claustrophobic." Pinkie, exasperated, tries to reign in the conversation once more. "If any of you don't have anything useful to say then by all means please leave me be."

I could go and ask Fuscia?

Don't you dare! She scares the metaphorical balls off of me!

"There is a reason why we don't let her loose in my head Red. I'd rather it stay that way."

"Errrr... Is everything OK back there?" The pilot was now turned towards her, an eyebrow raised, as she spoke into her microphone.

AWOOOOOGAAAAA, MAYDAY MAYDAY, radio silence guys!

Pinkie stammered.

"I-I...er I have er..."

"Voices huh?" The pilot grinned. "I'm not surprised," she turned back around. "I did lift you both from a mental hospital!"

Pinkie nearly flinched at the word 'mental'. It didn't feel right coming from someone else.

"Meh, I'm not worried as long as you don't do anything I'd regret picking you up for."

"How is it that you can hear me?"

The mare turned again.

"These microphones would be pretty useless if they were only one way. Besides, I find talking to be better than silence. Don't you agree?" Pinkie nodded. "The way I see it is..." The pilot continued, "You could either be sane or not lonely."

Pinkie laughed. Whilst they could be overwhelming at times, the voices in her head always kept her company.

"Catch some Z's. We're gonna be up here a while."

• • •

Pinkie was jolted awake. The rush of air still ruffling her mane. Her legs felt stiff, her mind was still and her passengers were... asleep. Why was the pilot asleep?

Pinkie looked out over the sides of the plane. It was night, darkness engulfing everything outside the seats they were sat in. The creeping dark unnerved her.

"Excuse me?" She said into her microphone. She could hear her voice through the radios ahead of her.

The pilot didn't move.

"Pilot? Hellooo?" She continued a little louder this time.

Still, she lay still.

"MISS PILOT!!"

Nothing.

The dark creeped in a little further, taking the front of the plane.

Before Pinkie could register what was happening, a shock struck the vessel. She grabbed onto the sides of her seat, terror filling her mind.

"You bring winds of change," a soft, deep, raspy voice travelled on the wind, causing Pinkie's ears to prick up. Even though it was barely a whisper, so quiet it could have been another voice in her head, it bore unworldly power. Pinkie would have recognised a voice like that.

Pinkie looked around her.

"You don't yet understand who we are" The darkness took more of the plane. This time however, the plane shuddered with a rhythmic pattern. "Understand what power we hold," Pinkie stared ahead. Shudder, shudder.

"For though you don't see us," Pinkie's belts fell away like liquid. Shudder, shudder. Patting her chest and stomach, she looked up and recoiled down into her cockpit.

"We... see... you!" A tall grey pony with eyes of searing malice and power haunched over her like a hyena over a carcass. If she didn't move, this thing would most certainly make her one.

It bore armour and a crown of diamond and black steel as cold as the sensation its vision poured over Pinkie. It smiled a sharp toothed smile. A smile like a closed bear trap. Saliva dripped from it's mouth. Even in the darkness, its teeth glowed brightly, almost as brightly as its eyes. Trails of smoke streamed like fire from its powerful stare.

Pinkie dived in the only direction she could; to the pilot seat. As soon as her body left her chair, the wind immediately resisted her. The surface of the plane was rough enough to fight back, but her movements became slow and floaty. Pinkie made her advance toward her friend. As the next seat came into view, Pinkie was startled to see it was empty.

Where did Lyra go?

The demon laugh deeply, savagely, as it distorted and gargled, fading into the noise of the plane engine ahead. Pinkie turned to see his massive form disappear into the darkness. His eyes and teeth were the last to fade.

"We... see... you." He said again over the unnatural, reverberating laugh.

Pinkie pulled herself into Lyra's empty seat. Regaining her composure after a few wheezing breaths, she sat up in time to feel the plane shuddered one last time. Ahead, the engine burst into bright orange and yellow flame, casting elongated shadows from it. The plane started a slow descent.

Immediately, Pinkie pulled herself from her new safe haven. She needed to reach the pilot. She forced herself on with her head down, protecting her face from the putrid billows.

Each step, blackened by smoke and burned by fire, became a task in itself. Each step drew her closer to the controls. Each step bringing her closer to saving herself.

One hoof curled over the lip of the pilots chair. She had almost made it. The surprise of this made her tilt her head up. Her eyes briefly locked onto the fire.

Within the heart of the flames, a horned face with both eyes closed came into view. His mane was beyond pure white. A mane that shone so brightly, with so many frantic colours that never stood still. A mane that almost blinded her instantly. The stallions was covered in wavy orange tattoos that enhanced the shape of his face. The orange blended into his white coat.

She stared long enough to see the stallions eyes open into bright, pure, lid-less, white eyes that pulsated rays so powerful, they rivaled the sun.

Pinkie quickly drew her eyes away, drawing a hoof up to cover her face. Dazed by the light, colours danced in her vision, even as she kept them closed. She reached blindly around for the controls. She swung at nothing. She reached again, still nothing. A tightness gripped her chest. She cracked open an eye, spotting the controls, she extended her hoof as far as it would go.

The tip was almost within her grasp.

Pinkie looked past the flames

And saw the ground coming into view

Her hoof grabbed the controls

She pulled it towards her

It snapped in two

Pinkie stared in horror

As the plane crashed into the ground, the resulting explosion dwarfed her in pure white light.

In the cacophony of horrific noise that was Pinkie's demise, she heard three words building in loudness, as if were a reserved echo.

Building, building, building until it was the only thing she could hear. And the words filled her with dread.

"We see you."

• • •

Pinkie awoke, screaming. Tears streaked from her face and sweat fell down her back. She frantically searched around, clinging to the sides of her cockpit.

"Woah, easy there!" The cyan pilot said. "Turbulence! Its not as if you're about to die!" She laughed at her little joke. Pinkie wasn't impressed.

It was early, the sun barely breaking over the horizon. The air was warm, even at the speed they were travelling, the clouds breezed past her, the sun lightly kissed her face. She blinked as she tried to slow the rise and fall of her chest. The land below her was covered in a sea of green foliage. Jungles so exotic, she drank in every bit of the landscape. Over the drone of the plane, whooping and calling of the jungles inhabitants rang out in one constant noise. It was immaculate, it was incredible, it was...

"Bloody terrifying, isn't it!" The pilot called back. Pinkie nodded, not tearing her wide eyes away for a second.

Imagine being lost in that.

"I remember the first time I landed here." The pilot began. Pinkie stared expectantly as the pilot put the mic down. When she didn't continue, Pinkie tried to coax her.

"You wanna talk about it?" There was a long pause again. The mare picked up the mic again.

"No, its none of your business." Putting the mic down. Pinkie frowned.

"Grumpy pants."

Lyra was passed out in the seat ahead of her. Looked like she was finally feeling better about the whole flying thing.

Aw, the poor thing's all tuckered out.

"What did you do to Lyra?" Pinkie questioned the pilot.

"Lyra? What, old scaredy cat back there? I didn't do anything. I merely asked what she was doing in a hospital like that. She said she didn't know. Gives me the whole 'I'm not crazy routine'." Pinkie flinched at that word again. "Next thing I know, she's telling me about Humans of all things. How foulish is that. HUMANS. Laughable I tell ya." Lyra snored loudly for a brief moment before turning over slightly. "Four hours. Four! It's a good thing this radio can be switched off."

"You don't believe her?" Pinkie enquired. The pilot stopped what she was doing, turning completely around in her seat to Pinkie a flat question accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously? Humans? No, seriously?" They stared at each other. The pilot groaned before turning to face forwards again. "You two are unbelievable." She started pressing buttons and flipping switches. "I'd ask for your back story, but frankly, I don't have another four hours! We're landing in ten."

The plane began its descent.

• • •

The plane landed just outside of a small encampment found on the edge of a river bordered by plants with roots that held them above the waters surface. It was almost as if the soil had been washed away with time.

Pinkie jumped from the plane with altogether less grace than anything else. She was never one to care about the opinions of others however. Her shoulders and ribs stung from the pressure of the seat belts she had been wearing. Her legs ached more though. It was as if she had never used them before.

Lyra, however, looked worse.

The housing was propped up on, what looked like, enlarged, green bamboo. The houses themselves were made from the same plant. This strange arrangement didn't surprise Pinkie one bit. The ground was mostly firm dirt but small patches showed pooling of water in isolated spots.

That's where the area's water table is above that of the ground. That is known as groundwater flooding. You see...

Shut up, Mag.

Pinkie looked at Lyra. She looked worse than Pinkie felt, surprisingly. Let's say, many years of knowing her let Pinkie know that Lyra was not a morning pony. Her ideal morning was spent in a warm bed, although the orderlys back at their hospital used to make that very difficult for her.

She blinked her eyes heavily as she removed herself from the plane, remembering to take the bag with her, and rubbed the saliva from the side of her mouth. She joined Pinkie by the side of the plane as the pilot barked her orders.

"OK Ladies, listen up!" She exclaimed loudly in order to be heard over the, still running, engine. "You have just landed in the Zhutailai Village. Ponies are friendly here as long as you mind your own business! In other words!" She bore into them both with an icy look. "Go to a small thatched house at the other end of the village! It will be decorated with tribal masks! Don't speak to anyone, don't go anywhere else, don't get followed, don't ask for directions and when you get there DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING! If you do, I will show you some damage!" She turned to her controls and started the plane moving again. "I will be along shortly."

Within seconds, the plane was gone, leaving behind two bewildered, slightly anxious mares in it's wake.

They looked at each other and with a mutual nod, turned and entered the village.

• • •

Smells of vegetation and fish wafted through the air. Occasionally, Pinkie thought she could smell tobacco but never stopped to find its source.

"Rule 2" she recited in her head. "No talking to anyone."

When they passed a shop with small toys however, that rule soon flew out the window. It took several tugs on Pinkie's jacket to stop her from leaving their course. They were generally followed by 'But Lyra, they have toys' or 'Lyra, that place is selling toffee apples' or 'Lyra, that monkey is playing card games on a motorcycle'. There were surprisingly more of the third one than you would have expected.

After twenty minutes, the towns buildings thinned as housing became fewer and further between. Trees littered the landscape like spires and fountains of wood and leaves. The path became broken as nature exerted it dominance over the hoof made terrain.

The weekly shopping trip must be awful.

Frankly, the place only needs a few curtains or drapes and it would look rather dashing.

You worry me sometimes.

"We're here!" Pinkie clapped her hooves together.

"I know." Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, sorry. I was monologuing." Pinkie blushed.

"God knows what it would be like to live in your head Pinkie." Lyra chuckled.

Cramped and dark.

"Cramped and dark apparently." Lyra laughed again. Heading up to the entrance of the hut.

Timber steps lead to a small wooden door which was mostly covered by a large, yet thin, red mask. A metre in height, it stood with it's mouth wide open. Lyra glanced at it briefly before opening the door and walking through. Pinkie stopped to do the same.

The mask was impressive. Clearly, care had been taken in order to craft it in such detail. From further away, the subtle carvings into the wood were lost. Only when up close could you see the natural lines within the wood as it, somehow, followed the lines of the masks features. Large slitted eyes, bordered by thick light brown wood made the mask hold an uncomfortable stare. Its mouth gaped wide and the wood of the mask became concave to give depth to it's grotesque feature.

It truly was a mouth as fast as the creature was. She found it intimidating in the way it portrayed pride. It's power germinating to the point where merely being in close proximity to it, left you with a sweat across your brow.

Pinkie shuddered, as was reminded of bath time.

She pushed the door open, much as Lyra did before her, and entered the hut.

Immediately, the smells of various aromas filled Pinkie's nostrils. Earth, tobacco and metallic scents were among the more distinguishable. The walls were decorated with an assortment of masks and ornaments from distant lands. Shelves behind protective glass housed vials and beakers of different colours and thicknesses. Some contained liquids, others small roots or nuts, some contained body parts. Pinkie shivered at the sight of them. Glancing to others, she saw herbs with what some would label as having 'medicinal' effects. Wicker dolls and needle sets sat on a table set to one side. Some dolls even had needles in them.

Looks like we aren't in Kansas anymore.

There was no lighting in the hut. Only stray beams passed through the window at the far end of the room. Even in the darkness, a large metal cauldron sat perfectly still in the centre of the room above a small ring of timber. Smoke billowed around the sides of the giant pot, snaking its way towards the ceiling. A doorway with no door, merely blocked by hanging beads, lead to what Pinkie would imagine to be a bedroom.

Heading a little more into the room, she joined Lyra side. Lyra was taking in as much as Pinkie was, only she was clearly worried about disturbing any of it. It was probably the angry pilots 'do some damage' comment that had her rattled. Pinkie, however, was not so easily intimidated.

The penetrating light from the far window fell onto one, solitary object. Pinkie stepped toward it.

"Pinkie?" Lyra warned. It was a pedestal of pure stone, most likely schist judging from the black and white grains most commonly found in metamorphic rock.

Geology. Buck yeah!

I don't like this.

The pedestal was simple in design. It had a slight slant on top to help with reading and had a small lip along the bottom to hold books in place.

"Pinkie, remember what the pilot said," Lyra cautioned a second time. There was already a book on it. Slender writing formed the words 'Zecora se Dagboek'.

"Pinkie," hoof steps could be heard behind her.

Pinkie reached for the diary. Before her hoof even touched the cover, Lyra screamed. A knife pressed into Pinkie's throat.

"Who are you!?!"

Comments

[111segasonic]

It saddens me that this great story doesn't have more views.

[MelancholyIguana]

5852346 me too mate.

BUT HEY! At least you are here