• Published 13th May 2012
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Austraeoh - Imploding Colon

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Flag

Rainbow Dash glided over the mountaintops, her goggles glinting with the rising sun of dawn. She veered around peaks and rises and sharp ridges of stone. Before her, one particular summit stretched high into the troposphere. She pivoted to the north, attempting to go around it, as if a great lethargy had finally overtaken her after so many days and she no longer desired to be daredevilish.

However, upon coasting the northeastern edge of the mountain, something caught her eye: a brown streak in her peripheral vision. Curious, she banked hard to the south and came around in a complete circle. She closed in upon the mountain, squinting at a flat piece of rock along the east side of the summit. Her breath left her upon making a unique discovery.

There was what looked to be the age-old remnants of a campsite. It obviously wasn't just any campsite, but something that had been deposited upon the topmost portion of the mountain with a great deal of excruciating effort and fatigue. Rainbow Dash saw the makings of a tent, several metal pegs, a crate full of tools, and several bundles of lumber. What was more, there was a flag in the center of the whole mess, and it was remarkably well intact.

The flag was red, and in the center of the slightly faded canvas was the image of a blue horseshoe framed with interwoven lengths of green vines and white carnations. Positioned next to the flag was a wooden plaque, and several initials were carved into it, along with a single phrase: “In the name of Emeraldine, we make our mark, offering our legacies to the eyes of the cosmic goddesses.”

Rainbow Dash couldn't help but smirk. She looked around, then saw an abandoned wooden toolcrate half submerged in high altitude frost. She pulled it over and stood it next to the plaque. Reaching into her saddlebag, she produced the metal hatchet and began carving into the wooden material until the toolcrate read “Rainbow Dash.” Once her mark had also been made, she stepped back with a contented sigh.

Hovering with the ease of pegasus wings, she gazed down to see what was blemishing the east side of the mountain. She saw a trail of dangling equipment and cords leading down from the flag-stabbed summit, down into a hilly area of rocky but navigable topography. It was an extremely rough landscape for a flying mare to transcend, but it had to have been feasibly next-to-impossible for earth ponies. She suddenly remembered the draw of the landscape, and the delicious challenge of seemingly unreachable goals.

It also made her realize something else. This was her first sign of civilization in days. After half a week of flying over barren, silent mountainsides, it was quite possible that Rainbow Dash was reaching the very edge. She followed the old tracks in the ground, and it led a haphazard but very real trail eastward. As she flew along, she realized that—indeed—the horizon was beginning to even out, and there loomed before her a grand green haze of flat plains and rolling hills.

The air grew thicker. Moisture gathered in swiftly billowing mists, and a delightful warmth greeted her as she descended. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath, smiled, and raised her goggles as she pierced the very edge of her most recent of perilous journeys.

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