210,050 words
CH 15: Deep Secrets, and The Lost22,472 words
CH 16: "...And Justice For All" finale part 115,750 words
CH 16: "...And Justice For All" finale part 216,161 words
Epilogue: "Dark Days Ahead"1,272 words

Ch 6: Old Friends, Old Flame

Ok, so this chapter features my experimental incorporation of songs into the text, hope it works for you guys.

It must have been one of those nights. Within the depths of the forest sat the quaint secluded cottage. And within that cottage, the occupant sat in a tall padded chair, wrapped in a set of pajamas and comfy robe. Back-lit by the fireplace, the pony’s silhouette was cast through the window and into the dark bush beyond.

The night was cloudless, the pale moonlight unobstructed in its grandeur. Moving deftly under the satellite’s ambient glow, a figure darted through the branches, their breath strained from exhaustion. Stopping to duck behind a tree, the mysterious shadowed pony took a moment to glance about. The memory of what had occurred as a result of their last visit to the unassuming chateau was still fresh for them, and the last thing they needed was an interloper causing distractions.

Confident that the coast was clear, they took a step around the tree towards the home. What they failed to notice in their haste was the thin line of wire stretching from the base of the tree to another tie-off point. A snap of the tripwire gave way to a whoosh! as a log flew past the pony’s head, its bark scraping the very tip of their nose.

“Whew… that was close.”

Letting their heart calm down they continued on, the edge of the wood-line only a few meters away. Tip-toeing through the bushes they were wary of any further traps, indeed an oddly shaped object caught their attention. They circled around it, not wanting to temp fate for a closer look.

“He-he, not gonna get me twice.”

Distracted as they passed by the object, they missed the large patch of leaves strewn in a cubic yard as they walked over it. The fragile ground gave way, and the pony fell with a yelp into the hole. They closed their eyes, and covered their face expecting the worse. Sharpened spikes, burning coals, or venomous snakes was what they feared, but there was nothing.
Having reacted on instinct, their wings had kept them afloat over the gaping pit, flapping casually. Taking their hooves away from the face, they realized how foolish they had been.”

“Oh, … right.”

Gliding over the pit with ease, they paused at the border, peering as best they could for any sign of activity in the cottage. A slight shift in shadows through the windows gave them hope, and drew them out into the moonlight. The lone figure coasted across the open glen, letting the tips of the tall grass brush their legs as they passed.

Landing a few steps away from the home’s door, they raised a hoof to knock, but thought better of it, anticipating another booby-trap to catch the unwary. They backed away, and moved over to the window where they leaned in to the pane. Inside they saw a lone chair positioned in front of a roaring fireplace. On the table beside was a cup of tea, wisps of heat still rising from the surface. But nopony was to be seen.

“Darn!” They thought, “Could I have just missed her?”

Placing their forehooves on the window sill to push away, they suddenly found that they were stuck in place, a layer of viscous adhesive had been slathered on, and were not giving up their catch without a fight.

“Oh great!”

They yanked and pulled, twisted and whipped, and while they could feel the grip tearing, they were still held firm. Bracing their back hooves against the sides of the window, they put their wings-power into the effort, and with a mighty heave, finally succeeded in overcoming the glue. They tumbled backwards in the air, rolling in-between two long plant stalks, and becoming entangled in a net.

Falling to the ground in a messy knot, they struggled against this newest, most persistent trap yet. No matter what they did the meshwork refused to be thrown off, and stuck to them like-

A sudden bright light brought an abrupt end to their movement as a set of magenta iris’ stared into the lens of a flashlight. But what made them focus to a point was not the light, but rather the gleaming tip of an arrowhead loaded into a crossbow just below it.

Equally stunned, the holder of the weapon stared back at the late-night visitor with curious deliberation.

“Rainbow Dash? Is that you?”

Sitting on her rump amid a tangle of pale netting, was Rainbow Dash gawking wide-eyed at the very mare she had come to see.
“Daring Do! I mean, Ms. Yearling! please don’t shoot me!”

Lowering the flashlight and crossbow, the famous recluse author who part-timed as a treasure hunting archeologist, A.K. Yearling was known to many apony as Daring Do. Still dressed in her bed clothes and quilted robe, she was bemused by her company’s current state. “What are you doing here?”

“I was coming to see you,” Rainbow started, her mane and face still plastered in the meshing. “But I almost got hit by a log, and fell into a pit, then I looked in the window and got stuck, and now I’m all tied up in your net.”
“Net?” Yearling asked, “you mean that spider’s web?”

Rainbow finally took the time to look in detail at the gummy substance that covered her, and saw that it was indeed harmless spider webbing.
“Aw…” she muttered in embarrassment, stewing in her shame.

“But good thing you got past the others though,” Yearling said, slinging the crossbow over her shoulder, “Because those were designed to trap raiders.”
“Couldn’t be too careful after last time huh?”
“Ahuizotl isn’t known for letting go of a grudge. Come on in, we’ll get you cleaned-up.”
Yearling turned back to the cottage, Rainbow falling in step behind her, stretching a leg to snap a few strands of web.
“Ya know Rainbow, you could have just knocked.”
Rainbow hung her head.

A little later, Daring was sitting in her chair when RD came into the room, her mane moist and frizzy, and combing cobwebs out of her tail.
“Thanks for letting me use your shower AK. Um, FYI… your drain is clogged.”
Daring’s face panned.
“So what could you have wanted to see me about that was so important?”

Putting the brush aside, Rainbow considered how she wanted to explain things.
“It’s kind of a weird story, but I wanted you to take a look at something for me. I was hoping you might know something about it.”

Well now this did sound interesting. A late night visit, a mysterious item, an unusual story? This could be another adventure, maybe even another book the author thought.
“Alright…” Yearling let the word hang, leaning forward in her chair; “show me what you got.”

Reaching into a crevice under her right wing, Rainbow produced a gold coin, and placed it on the small table beside the chair. It immediately struck Yearling as odd, and she moved her face in closer to examine it. In all her travels she had chanced upon many different forms of currency, from slivers of silver, to brass buttons. The Equestrian Bit was most common however, an amalgam that was actually light on gold and heavy on tin. But right away she could tell this was nothing she had ever seen before. It was clearly old, worn and nicked from being carried among others, and its iconography was strange. Neither the engravings nor the letterings resembled Saddle Arabian or Zebraic, or anything from south of the Bad Lands.

“In the drawer over there,” Yearling spoke without moving her head, motioning to a small Davenport table against the far wall, “Get me the magnifying glass, please.”
As Rainbow shuffled items in the drawer, something clicked for Daring. The Ship, there’s something about the ship. While the profile on the opposite side had been rubbed into obscurity, the ship remained fairly well detailed.

The magnifying glass came sliding on the table, and was picked-up in a second, positioned over the coin. Upon closer inspection, the ship did become more familiar, it was a military craft. The build was stout, and there was a tell-tale bulge of a ram beneath the prow. And the figure on the front of the ship itself was that of an intimidating Unicorn, horn leveled to attack, hooves raised. Squinting, she could even make out the slightest traces of an icon on the first of the three sails.
That could be the key… She thought, trying to make some sense of the rounded edge.
It was now that AK realized that Rainbow Dash was almost nose-to-nose with her looking down at the coin.
“Personal space Rainbow.”

“Oh, sorry.” Loyalty’s bearer apologized, backing away.
“So what do you think?”

“I think you definitely have something worth investigating here. But if I’m gonna take this any further, you need to be straight and tell me how you got this.”

“Well…” Rainbow wanted to be careful. While she have her reservations about Wanderlust, he had risked himself to save the fillies, so that should count for something she thought.

“This mysterious new stallion came into town the other day. He’s some kind of drifter. I mean, he saved some fillies from Timberwolves, and Applejack and Rarity seem to think he’s alright. Especially Rarity. But he’s elusive and vague when you ask him about himself or his past, and apparently he’s a pretty strong unicorn.
Anyway, he was in the mayor’s office today and left with a big scroll. Then he bought some flowers for Rarity, and paid with three of those coins.”

Yearling mulled the story, her eyes shifting to the side. “So an enigmatic new guys rolls into town, and in the first day he’s a hero and charms one of the Element Bearers, and won’t explain his past and true intentions. Hmm… I tell you what Rainbow…”

Daring crossed over to her friend, glancing back to the coin. “Let me hold onto this, and take it to some contacts of mine. I have a few in mind that could point me in the right direction. But it may take some time.”

“That’s fine! Whatever you think is necessary.” Rainbow said with a degree of relief, “Thank you for helping me.”

“Thank you for the interesting case.” Yearling returned, placing the coin into a small purse. “I have to admit, it’s been a little boring around here lately.”

A smile crept across Rainbow Dash’s face at the prospect of getting some answers, and looking out for her friends. But a grim look from Yearling stifled the optimism.

“In the meantime kid, be careful. Keep an eye on this pony. He might be one of the good guys, he might not. But whichever side he’s on Rainbow, he is not who he says he is.”

PONYVILLE

The banner read: “Welcome to Ponyville Wanderlust!”. He could tell the lettering was hoof-painted, and a warm smile turned in the corners of Wanderlust’s mouth.

The boutique had been transformed into a packed party, streamers hung from the ceiling, and a large table had been set-up with punch and snacks. The banner itself was draped across the middle of the room, the red letters smeared with bits of confetti on them. All around him ponies chatted, with a few throwing the occasional glance his way.

After the initial welcoming, he had taken the courtesy of washing off the fragrance to avoid any further awkward instances. Pinky Pie had since returned, bundle of baked goods in tow, and gone through her proper welcoming ritual. Having gotten the second chance at a first impression, Wanderlust found himself trapped in perhaps the most genuine hug he had received a very long time.

“Do forgive the exuberance darling.” Rarity said in her tuneful speech as she approached him from behind, “Pinkie Pie tends to be overly enthusiastic about her craft, it is of course her raison d'être.”
Wanderlust smiled, “oh, it’s quite alright. You might say that it only confirms a gut feeling of mine about her.”
The Element bearer of Laughter checks out. Two down, Four to go.
“Though I was looking forward to our dinner…”

Rarity’s cheeks flushed and she turned away to hide her face behind the locks of her mane. “Well I suppose we’ll just have to reschedule for another night then.” She peeked an eye out from the silky strands, her gaze searching for a connection to his. When their stares met however, Wanderlust saw something in the gleam of her pupil. For a second his mind was whipped back to another time in his life, a happier time, when somepony else would look at him that way.

His heart tightened in his chest and his face winced at the pain. The subtle expression was not lost on Rarity who immediately flinched backwards, as if recoiling from some harm she had done.
“Or we can um… We can-”

With a raised hoof Wanderlust cut her off, his face turned apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just that for a moment you reminded me of somepony else. Somepony I lost a long time ago.”

“I see…” Rarity said looking down, unsure about how to take the news. Now it was her mind that flashed back to earlier in the day, when she had measured the doubt in Fluttershy’s voice. Maybe there was something to be worried about after all, something this nomad wasn’t eager to share.

Sensing her discomfort, he reached out and brushed aside the hair that hid her face. “But that’s a story for another time. Since I’m the new guy in town, why don’t you introduce me to all your friends?”

She visibly brightened at the suggestion, and took his hoof in a ring of her magic to lead him along. “I would introduce you to my good friend Fluttershy, but I’m afraid she’s dealing with a sick patient who needs constant care tonight.”

Hmmm. Wanderlust thought, recalling his wide array of medical knowledge, perhaps that’s my hoof-in-the-door with the Pegasus.

Rarity was leading him to a grouping of several other mares, who were idling around a few dressed mannequins.
“There was one thing I wanted to ask you about Rarity.” He mentioned casually.”
“What’s that darling?”
“The castle, I was wondering if-”

Their approach was halted when a flurry of activity from three tiny fillies. Trapping them in a bouncing circle, AppleBloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle wore smiles and sparkles of glee danced in their eyes.

“Wanderlust!” Sweetie chimed, “You have to tell us a story!”

“Yeah!” Scootaloo agreed. “You must have a hundred awesome stories from all over the world!”

“I bet he has a thousand!” Applebloom wagered, raising the stakes. “Fightin’ monsters, ancient treasure, rescuing damsels in distress!”

Rarity giggled at the last suggestion, “Girls, he’s not a superhero.”

“Maybe not.” The grey unicorn teased, sounding like he was considering weather to share a bit of juicy gossip or not. “But I do have a tale or two that might satisfy an audience.”

“Yaaay!” All three crusaders cheered, splintering off and scampering in-between the legs of older ponies. They emerged on the raised dais where customers could examine themselves in the wall of mirrors.
Sweetie Belle spoke out for all the crowd to hear, “Come on up Wanderlust! Tell us a good one!”

All eyes turned in his direction, which he found uncomfortable at first, but with a short chuckle, his courage reasserted itself. The party guests cleared a path for him to the platform, and he took the invitation.

“Well for anypony who hasn’t met me yet, as the banner implies my name is Wanderlust. I have been many places and seen many things, far too many to share with you tonight.” He mounted the stage and faced the eager crowd, “But there is a story I think you’ll like. It’s of something I witnessed during my time sailing the Great Eastern Sea, one of those encounters that passes from tavern yarn, to legend, and into song.”

An eager murmur went through the party crowd, ready to listen to the rover’s ballad. Off to the side, Applejack leaned into the wall, her Stetson lowered in the fashion of country folk about to let their imagination give vivid life to a song.

“I will of course need an acoustic guitar.”

A pink hoof extended much beyond its normal proportions, clutching the neck of a wooden guitar.

“Thank you.” Said Wanderlust, taking the instrument in his magic and playing it across the strings.

Pinkie Pie slid herself next to Rarity, and gave her friend a nudge in the side. Rarity kept her mouth shut through a smile, and playfully nudged Pinkie back.

“Now this song is called ‘the Mare on the Shore’.” Wanderlust explained, as he plucked the strings a few more times, making sure it was tuned to his liking. “And I had never seen anything like it before or since. We had been at sail for days with a steady wind at our backs, and were making good time to the Gulf of Gaskin. But suddenly one day, I think it was a Tuesday, the wind died out and we were left drift among a scattering of small tropical islands.”

Another tendril of magic extended out from his horn and formed a large panel in front of him. Within, a little wooden ship caricature came into focus moving among several green-topped islands. The crowd ooed and awed at the display, captivated by the show.

Here's the deal: you can either play the song first to hear how it goes, then read on. OR, you can play the video, and try to follow along with the text. The lyrics are worked in to keep one tracking. Up to you

Then he began playing. It was a slow melody, one that eased the listener into comfort. The image in the projection washed aside to now feature a lithe, pale mare, with a long flowing green mane, frolicking wistfully along a beach. The audience gasped at how pretty she was, carefree and content in the sand.

“There is a young Mare, and she lives all alone, she lives all alone on the shore-O. There’s nothing she can find to comfort her mind, but to roam all alone on the shore, shore shore, but to roam all alone on the shore.”

Then the show changed to a pony wearing a tri-corner hat, looking out over the prow of his ship.

“Twas of the young captain who sailed the salt sea, let the wind blow, blow lo-ow. ‘I will die, I will die’ the young captain did cry, ‘if I don’t have that mare on the shore, shore shore, if I don’t have that mare on the shore.”

The captain then held a pile of bits and jewels in his hooves.
“Well I have lots of silver, I have lots of gold, I have lots of costly wear-O. I’ll divide, I’ll divide with my jolly ship’s crew, if they row me that mare on the shore, shore shore. If they row me that mare on the shore.”

Suddenly the mare was being helped on the ship, all the sailor ponies gawking at her like treasure.
“After much persuasion, they got her aboard. Let the wind blow high, blow l-ow. They replaced her away in his cabin below, here’s a due to all sorrow and care, care care. Here’s a due to all sorrow and care.”

Now the mare was in the cabin, with the others all gathered around her fawningly.
“They replaced her away in his cabin below, let the wind blow high, blow lo-ow. She’s so pretty and neat, she’s so sweet and complete, she sung captain and sailors to sleep, sleep sleep. She sung captain and sailors to sleep.”

Suddenly the music picked-up, and the mare was adorning herself in bejeweled rings and stuffing gold bits into a sack.
“Then she robbed him of silver, she robbed him of gold. She robbed him of costly wear-O. Then took his broadsword instead of an oar, and paddled her way to the shore, shore shore. And paddled her way to the shore.”

The next scene depicted the despondent captain leaning out over the prow, calling out to the mare who now sat on the sandy beach, surrounded by her stolen treasures.
“Well me crew must be crazy, me crew must be mad, me crew must be deep in despair-O. For to let you away from my cabin so gay, and to paddle your way to the shore, shore shore. And to paddle your way to the shore.”

The mare was now dancing merrily, kicking up sand as she pranced impishly.
“Well your crew was not crazy, your crew was not mad, your crew was not deep in despair-O. I deluded your sailors, as well as yourself, I’m a Mare once again on the shore, shore shore. I’m a Mare once again on the shore.”

The song softened as Wanderlust thumped on the body of the guitar, and the imagery pulled back, the mare still skipping and romping into the sunlit horizon.
“Well there is a young Mare, and she lives all alone. She lives all alone on the shore-O. There’s nothing she can find, to comfort her mind, but to roam all alone on the shore, shore shore. But to roam all alone on the shore.”

The thumping continued to a few more beats, then fell to a stop. The image dissipated into tiny bits of light before fading to nothing. Wanderlust brought the guitar to lean against his chest, bowing his head to the crowd.

For three seconds, the audience simply blinked, just in case there was one last note to be played. But as Wanderlust lifted his eyes to check, they responded with applause and cheer, a few even whistling.

Still next to Rarity, Pinkie was standing on her hind legs, hollering and clapping. The seamstress simply smiling as she watched Wanderlust bow to the spectators. While she preferred more upbeat music, she had to admit the sea shanty had a folksy charm to it, and it had been sung well. She tried to imagine if such a story had any truth to it, or was just a bit of old fable. Much like Wanderlust himself, she could only speculate how much of what he put on was really him, or just an act.

At the base of the stage Rarity spied Sweetie Belle and her friends, where they had clearly enjoyed the performance. While she was typically a happy filly, there was the unspoken ghost of their family situation. Any child is resilient, but the absence of their parents had weighed on both of them, and Rarity worried what it was doing to Sweetie Belle in the long term.

Maybe that was a big reason why she found herself so attracted to Wanderlust, because of how quickly Sweetie had bonded to him. The more she thought on the matter, the more reasonable Fluttershy’s cautious voice sounded. A pang of unease jabbed at her heart, something she now considered might be in the act of betraying her.

But an errant bump from Pinkie jolted her out of such thoughts, back to the party where the enigmatic stallion had just presumably shared an enchanting true tale. The joy of her friend created an opposing idea in her head, one that argued for the glass half-full. A feeling to embrace Wanderlust, give him the benefit of the doubt, trust that he’s one of the good guys without some hidden ulterior motive. Consider that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t too good to be true.

The twists and turns of Rarity’s heart and mind occurred in a matter of heartbeats, and as the applause continued, she swallowed her doubts for the moment and joined in the celebration. With a gleaming smile she offered her own musical shout of praise to the choir.

Wanderlust glanced about, pleased that his song had gone over so well. “If only they knew how true it was” he thought to himself with a smirk. By the far side of the room he saw that both Rarity and Pinkie were celebrating. Shifting over to the right he and Applejack met each other’s gaze and traded a pair of slight nods, a sign of her subtle approval.

“Fluttershy is occupied,” he remembered, “The Princess is away….” Then the fact that he was searching for came to him, “Where is Rainbow Dash then?”

The absence of the curious Pegasus seemed odd to him. Another quick scan of the crowd during his bow confirmed that she was missing. Instead of feeling apprehensive, or even troubled, he found that he was enticed by the thought that Rainbow was secretly trying to uncover the mystery of the coin. It was a secret that deserved to be revealed, but there would be questions raised by it, and he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to answer them quite yet.
“I’ll have to catch up with her sometime, get a better reading on her.”

Wanderlust finally straightened his posture, “Thank you, thank you all!”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders all positioned themselves at the foot of the dais, their faces beaming with eager joy.
“Do another one!” they chanted in unison, “Do another one!”

Wanderlust again gave them an expression of faux hesitation, pouting his lips, looking towards the ceiling, emitting a hum of deliberation. But after a moment he craned his head back down to them, a playful grin cutting through the front.

“Well girls..” he asked them just above a whisper, “Have you ever heard of the far-away land called Honalee? And a magical dragon named… Puff?”

The fillies eyes widened in suspense, captivated to hear this new story of distant lands and dragons. But they never got the chance.

Before they could respond, the lights in the room went out. A hush went over the crowd as they remained still, too startled to move. Immediately, Wanderlust tensed, going into a mode of hyper-awareness. Heat began to build in his horn, ready to lash out at any foe that might be lurking in the darkness.

“Is this a party or a poetry reading?”

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, echoing in the room as if it had come from some supernatural megaphone. It was certainly feminine, tinged with a suggestive tone.

“How’s about I show you all how to really wow a crowd!”

A streak of light hit the center of the ceiling, and exploded in a shower of bright sparks.

“For somepony who can amaze and dazzle…”

Another streak to the back of the room, bursting apart in a blue.

“Captivate and stagger…”

A ball of green light bounced along an invisible path around the crown, dripping with smaller flickers.

“Could only be, tremendously talented…”

Now a volley of multi-colored comets sailed over their heads before exploding, much to the awe and wonder of the audience.

“And marvelously magical…”

A waterfall of popping sparks erupted from the top of the boutique’s doorway, becoming a showtime entrance for the speaker.

“Like the Great…”

A burst of light from the doorway, illuminated the silhouette of a pony with long hair, posed with their head down, and a foreleg outstretched.

“And Powerful…”

A second flash, and the outline now had their forelimbs raised to the sky in a show of strength.

Then as the room went dark for one last moment, a drum-roll, from somewhere, whetted the crowd for the revelation. A revelation that struck Applejack, and she put a hoof to her face in resignation.
“Oh no…”

A brilliant white flash, and the mysterious mare was exposed at last standing in front of the door, a geyser of magically colored sparks erupting behind her. Light blue of fur, pale blue in mane and tail, her star studded cape and large pointed hat gave her away as somepony who had visited the little town before.

“TTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRRIXIE!!!!!”

The room responded with a wave of cheer for the show-mare-ship. Applejack joined Rarity and Pinkie, none of them too visibly enthused by the unexpected guest.

Finally coming down from the success of her display, Trixie set her hooves on the floor, and took in the room’s decoration. Around her ponies smiled and chattered, apparently having either forgiven or forgotten her previous antics in town. She smiled in return, happy to use her gifts to bring joy to others instead of her own aggrandizement.

Her attention eventually wound its way upward to the banner, where she figured she could learn the name of the party’s cause. But as she read the name on the streamer, her posture softened, and her face fell in heart-wrenching disbelief.

The party hushed, stunned by the sudden turn of her demeanor. She strode forward through the crowd, towards the stage where a grey, blue-maned unicorn stallion stood, their eyes locked on each other.

Trixie stopped a few paces away from the stage, Wanderlust gazing back down at her, into eyes that began to water and quiver. His face was not shocked, surprised, uncomfortable, or upset in the slightest. Instead his own eyes wore an expression of both reception and apology.

“Wanderlust?” She asked in a way that one might question the ghost of a loved one. “Is that really you?” A tear rolled down her face and she searched his for any tell that he wasn’t who she thought.

“Hello Trixie,” He spoke gently, comfortingly. “It’s good to see you again.”

At this confirmation, a cough of emotion caused Trixie to cover her mouth and recoil as Wanderlust stepped down from the dais. He lifted a hoof to place on her shoulder, but she jerked away.

“Trixie, Let’s go outside and-”

“Don’t…” She cried, batting away his attempt to reach out. The sobbing began, and she turned wholly from him and trotted towards the door.

“Trixie wait! He called after her, but she shouldered through the door and out into the night.

Nopony spoke as Wanderlust stood in the center of the room, surrounded by silent, sullen faces. Realizing he was currently at the center of an embarrassing scene, and a feeling of guilt washed over him for those who had put the party on, and those who had trusted him so far. Swallowing a lump, he trotted for the door, hoping that Trixie hadn’t gone too far away.

He caught Rarity’s eye as he passed, and the second it took his raised hoof to strike the floor seemed like a minute. He saw her face become a mask of confusion and misery. She had no context for what she had just seen, and given that she had been flirting with him openly, he felt especially low. He saw her iris contract around the reflection in her pupil, and knew that the trust she had granted him had just been spoiled. He saw her decide that she had no idea who she had been welcoming into her life. And he couldn’t blame her, she was right.

His hoof came down on the floor and he tore his gaze away, exiting the boutique. The room was left quiet, nopony willing to be the one that broke the silence and thusly draw all attention to themselves. All except one of course.

“There’s still plenty of foo-oood!…” Announced Pinkie in a sing-song voice.

THE NEXT MORNING
TRANS-EQUESTRIAN RAILWAY

The next morning, the Friendship Express was chugging its way on the tracks, exiting the mountain tunnel into the sunlight on the cloudless day. The rear three cars were typically reserved for VIP occupants, and Twilight Sparkle sat in the second to last.

From her seat by the window, she looked out to the spruce covered valley below. Her car hit a new segment of rail and jostled the satchel of books sitting next to her. She always enjoyed the pleasant trip back to Ponyville from Canterlot, and with her new collection in tow, it would be an enlightening one.

Spike rested on the other side of the car in a seat of his own, a short stack of the newest Power Pony comics at his hip. Certified, non-enchanted this time.

The ride back would be a little over an hour, “Just enough time for a little light reading,” Twilight thought. Glancing down to her cutie-mark painted saddlebag, she used her magic to undo the buckle and extract the largest of the three tomes within.

As tall as it was, it was relatively thin, and bound between dark leather hardcovers. Running her hoof across the surface, she could feel the wooden slate underneath the leather, a detail that she remembered from school was a technique very long out of date. Inscribed on the front cover, was more of the ancient Thulian script, which Luna had told her was called ‘Runic’.

She remembered the look in Luna’s face when she gave Twilight the book earlier before leaving. The senior princess had installed a false wall in the side of her personal bookcase, and after assuring her pet Tiberius it was alright, the wry possum allowed her to trigger the slide and remove the book from its hidden alcove.

“I made sure to hide this away after he was banished.” Luna said, looking down at the musty pages with fondness. “The Tale of Prince Æclypse the Valiant” She translated, holding it up for Twilight to see. “It was secretly sent to me by a friend of the prince, some time after the events transpired. The title here is the only example of their harsh tongue I’ve ever had decoded. Luckily the story within was rendered in Equestrian for my reading.”

She floated the book over to Twilight, but held it aloft just short of her grasp. “Eh, you can read middle-Equestrian can’t you?”

Twilight nodded, “I’ve read a bunch of middle-Equestrian poetry from the Royal Library.”

Luna raised an eyebrow and gave over the book “I believe you”, she said without a doubt in the notorious bookworm. “I’m a little surprised it survived my sister’s purge; I suppose when she moved my things from our castle in the Everfree, she left them otherwise unmolested.”

Twilight gave the book a quick glance before stowing it in her bag, “Are you sure you want to let me borrow this? Aside from being a priceless historic document, it must mean a lot to you.”

Luna considered the prospect for a second, but waved it away. “I trust it in your care, Twilight Sparkle. For me it is a reminder of a memory that has long ceased to provide me with reflection. This dust-covered tome serves no purpose secreted away, and I hope that you might find something of value within its pages.”

“And that’s just what I intend to do.” Twilight mused, another clacking of the tracks echoing through the cabin.

Spike looked-up from his comic and noticed the familiar gleam in his mentor’s face as she flipped open the first few pages. He merely nodded, and went back to his panels.

Twilight’s tongue stuck out and curled around her upper lip as she examined the opening contents. After the cover there was a blank page, followed by one featuring an amazing illustration. It was two unicorns, stylized in long curving arcs and knots, and interwoven around the image of the sun wheel atop the torch like she had seen in the library. The wheel was placed between the heads of the unicorns, with their horns crossing over it, rays of light beaming from the background.

The bottom of the image terminated at a line, under which was a short line of text in the archaic Equestrian, that she read to herself; “Mæi þie licht of þie Fylfot gyen Þule for alweye.” In her mind she quickly made sure she could comprehend the verbalism. “May the light of the Fylfot guide Thule for all time.” The last word had some flexibility, but she was sure she got the idea.

Turning to the next page she exhaled, preparing not just for the exercise in dead language, but because she was about to read a story that nopony had read in hundreds of years. The first page of the tale was topped with a depiction of snow covered mountain peaks, and the first letter was large and extravagantly illustrated in gold and green.

As she began reading, her mind’s eye as usual delved into the account, a vivid imagination allowing her to see herself in the setting.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Crystal Mountains were as mercilessly bitter as they ever were, the wind this day more violent than I remember it being for quite some time. The sky was grey, a light snowfall coming down on the dozens of unicorn pilgrims who traversed the pass. Only the barest light shone through the clouds, casting us all in a pervasive gloom, the ponies huddling together and bundled like babes against the cold. Though the day passed in this manner, we knew that nightfall was not long in coming, and that soon the howling winds would bury the weary travelers.

“We must reach the tree-line before eventide Wiglaf.” My prince said to me, watching over the train from our vantage point. “Life in the southern lands has made them vulnerable to the chill in these peaks. Worse, we may rouse the interest of some beast.”

We stood on an outcropping, below us passed the shivering mass along the road. Yearly these ponies made their pilgrimage to Thule, only to reenact the exodus of their unicorn ancestors to the lowlands settled after the Windigos were driven out. The leader of the travelers was always a mare, dressed to emulate the resplendent Princess Platinum, who led those willing to leave our ancestral homelands for new promise. Beside her is another who portrays Clover the Clever, Platinum’s page who went on to great renown of her own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twilight paused, remembering how she and Rarity would pretend to be Platinum and Clover for the Hearth’s Warming Eve play in Canterlot. It would seem that the tales of the Thule ponies were much kinder to the princess’ memory than the one passed down in Equestria.
She giggled slightly at the thought of Rarity leading a group through such terrible weather, and how she’d be complaining the whole time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I stood beside him, I took my own measure of our situation, and he was correct. Night would be upon us soon, making our duty to protect them all the more perilous.
The Prince gazed down at them carefully, looking for any that might be faltering in the knee-deep snow drift, or unable to stand the biting wind. I had watching him grow from a foal to a young stallion, a strong, intelligent, and caring prince. And as he stood there, adorned in his royal armor and his mane flapping in the gale, I saw not the pony whom I served as mentor and guardian since his weaning. Instead I saw the embodiment of our kingdom, one that we would be singing songs of for generations.

“Your judgment is true Æclypse, we should put a shoe in their dock, get them moving.”

He chuckled at the suggestion; and looked at me with a laughing twinkle “That’s your solution to everything my friend! If you had your way, we’d be cracking whips at their hocks!”

“And they’d be better for it.” I told him sternly, for I had little patience for the feebleness of the farmers and potters who pretended to the hardiness of their forebears.

He ignored my disdain and moved along as the middle part of the procession came over the path. “I wonder what it’s like where they’re from Wiglaf. I wonder about the rolling valleys, fields covered in flowers of every shade, and grass greener than emeralds. I wonder how they live their lives, conduct their simple trade, lay by the river on a spring afternoon, how their fillies play.”

I did not share my prince’s romantic imagination, for life in the north had not imparted me with a such a curiosity for things beyond our borders. But I did admire his desire to see more of the world than just our little part of it.
“I imagine it becomes as tedious to them as our life is to us, my prince. The daily grind of their lives not much different.”

“You are probably right. I suppose one does take the familiar for granted. Still, I would like to take a trip down to the lowlands someday. Spare myself the sight of your grim face for a time.”

As I turned my head to offer a protest, he used his hoof to toss some snow into my face. I sputtered to speak, but his mischievous laughter quenched my anger, and I found myself chuckling just the same.

“Who am I kidding Wiglaf.” Æclypse said as he used his magic to clear the last bits from my beard, and draped a foreleg over my shoulder. “If I ever went to visit the south, you’d be right by my side, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would.” I told him smiling, “That I would.” And I meant it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twilight bit her lip with a laugh of her own in her heart. She tried to picture this Wiglaf; he sounded like a gruff, older unicorn, stocky, flat-faced. He must have had a great beard that covered his lower jaw in bush. She imagined him next to the young, lean, and handsome prince on that rock among the northern winds, what a pair they must have been.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A fine evening for a quite hike! Wouldn’t you say my prince?”

The voice called from below, one of the pilgrims had stopped to shout up to us. He looked to be of middle-age and must have made this trip more than few times in his life. Without hesitation, Æclypse answered him.
“Is that what time of day it is? And here I thought it was still luncheon.”

The stallion below gave him a merry salute before carrying on. Of course, we all knew the movement of the sun, for as unicorns descended from those who raised and lowered it in the past, we were still attuned to its movements as we were to moon as well. The Alicorns may have taken over the duties of raising and lowering them, but we unicorns will always be connected to the bodies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now that, Twilight thought, was interesting. All Equestrian unicorns are still linked to the sun and moon? Hmm. I think I’ll have to do a little experiment with Rarity when I get back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So we continued on for a while, with night slowly drawing her curtains across the sky.

“I wonder what they’re like Wiglaf.”

“What ‘who’ are like?” I questioned in return. I saw that he was gazing skywards, where through a break in the clouds, a few of the brightest stars were beginning to shine.

“The Alicorns. At this very moment Celestia and Luna must be at work, trading their charges. For all that we hear of them, I have to wonder what they must be like to sit down to dinner with, tell stories with,-”

“Go to dance with?” I said, catching him off guard. Despite the cold I saw his cheeks blush. As grown as he was, there was still a bit of the colt left in him yet.
“Don’t be embarrassed young prince.” I assured him. “I too have heard of the Alicorns great beauty, I’m sure there must be many a stallion from each corner of Equestria and beyond who dreams of such lovely creatures.”

His ears clung to his head for a few paces before he finally spoke again. “I’m sure they must like to laugh and sing Wiglaf, and do all the things that bring us normal pony-folk joy. Else what would they be, if not the embodiment of all three tribes?”

I had given little thought to the nature of the Alicorn sisters in my life. In all my years, and all the years of my father, and all the years of my grandfather, they had never visited Thule. Generations ago, in the time of King Thalamar the Great, had been the last time Celestia came so far north as to grace our cider halls with her presence.

“I imagine they are much like you and I.” I said as we strolled. “In so far as they take delight in good food, good drink, and good company. But they must also be wise in their extended years of ruling the south.”

“Do you think I could hold my own at a dinner conversation with their likes?” The prince asked in a pondering tone. At this notion, I had to chuckle.

“My prince, I have seen you rally a crowd of soldiers, and charm the fairest mares. I have no doubt that a discussion betwixt you three, would be a conversation among equals.”

His ears perked and he gave me a confident smile before I finished my thought. “Nattering on as you will about philosophy and music.”

At once we laughed, and he jostled me in the flank for my teasing. Although I was officially little more than a bodyguard and fighting instructor, I had grown to view the prince as something akin to a nephew. And life was good.

As we made our way through one of the more treacherous mountain passes before the safety of the treeline, the wind quickened with such ferocity that several of the pilgrims cried out in distress.
We too were struck by how hard and fast it had picked-up, our instincts telling us that something more than just an errant squall as responsible. It became so strong, we were forced low to the ground to avoid being blown away. A part of me feared that the Windigos had returned.

“We have to get the through the pass!” Æclypse yelled above the wind, “they can still make the treeline if we hurry!”

I nodded, and as the roaring gust washed over us like an avalanche, we crept forward, the ponies in the train already racing to escape the storm. The dozen or so soldiers we had among them ordering their movement to hasten.

We were falling in behind the train when we heard something rumble from within the tempest. It was not thunder, we knew that at once. And we heard it again, a booming bellow that shook the very ice beneath our hooves. Stopping, we watched as best we could through the blinding torrent for any sign of the source. But nothing moved.

“We should stay with the herd!” I called out to him. “Whatever’s out there is just as hindered by the storm as we are!”

But as I made to turn, he did not move. He remained still, his eyes searching, waiting. I reached a hoof out to him, but he lurched forward pointing to something I missed by a heartbeat.

“There!” He cried out, his gaze fixed, “Between those peaks!”

At first I saw nothing but the veil of white, but after a moment, some thing did stir, something large and dark slithered behind the rocks. What it was we could not tell, but a third roar carried on the winds let us know we were better off not finding out. We both turned and hurried to catch-up with the others.

We galloped through the snow as fast as we could, our legs fighting against the depth of the drift. Another roar, this time much closer preceded a tremendous shock that cause me to stumble. My body slammed into the rocky wall of the path before I rolled to a stop on my side. I could feel my back leg and left flank had been injured, and struggled to right myself.

Prince Æclypse skidded to a halt beside me, and helped me to stand.
“We’ll never outrun that thing in the storm!” He set me to a limping trot, but stayed behind.

“Æclypse! Hurry!” I screamed, fearing for his safety. But he would not budge.

“Go!” he yelled back to me, “Keep those ponies moving! I’ll hold it off for as long as I can!”

A mass of snow was displaced from a higher ledge by the creatures approach, creating a barrier that separated us. I lost sight of him and began to panic.
“Æclypse!”

“Run Wiglaf!” I heard him cry, but I could not leave him, neither my sense of duty to my prince, nor my loyalty allowing me to do as he commanded. So I found an incline I could surmount in my condition, if nothing else to see what might become of Thule’s First Son.

I hauled myself over a boulder, the winds at a fever pitch, the full cloak of night established, and the chill stabbing at my face like a griffin’s talons. As I peaked over the stone, I saw my prince, but he was not in the lonely cold and darkness as I was. Instead, an otherworldly orange glow bathed the area, its epicenter moving like a stalking lion behind the rocks.

Æclypse readied himself for whatever it was, his teeth grit and horn alight. The next sound that rose above the winds was not a roar, but a guttural snarl that sent a shiver of terror up my spine. And I knew at once what type of fiend had chosen to prey on us.

A massive black claw, large enough to grasp around a pony whole clutched a peak, crushing the stone between its digits. Rivers of fiery glow snaked their way along the limb, plumes of smoke and steam spewing from them continually. The creatures head rose into view, that of the dreaded Fyre Drake of ancient lore. Its skin as black as charred wood, its body seething with fumes from the inferno that was its inner core. Its head was narrow and menacing, with frills on either side, its mouth filled with crooked fangs.

Its eyes blazed from the furnace within, and focused on the unicorn that had dared remain to oppose it. Loosing a terrible roar that turned the snow to steam as it fell, the drake reared-back to flex its wings in a display of might.

With my heart nearly beating out of my chest and mortal terror for the Prince gripping me, I watched on in numbness as Æclypse responded in kind on his hind legs, and screamed back saying- “
“-candy!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What!?” Twilight said aloud, startled in confusion. “That’s not what-”

“Want some candy Twilight?”

I was now she realized that the voice that interrupted her reading had been Spike, calling from the door of the cabin. There he stood, the attendant offering him a selection of brightly colored treats. Her number one assistant stared at her, waiting for an answer.

She exhaled. Having been so enthralled by the story just as it was building, she had become oblivious to her surroundings. As annoyed as she was by the intrusion, the thought of something sweet was indeed tempting.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note:

Cliff-hanger muthafu***s!

I actually really enjoyed writing this one. Not nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. Chapter 7 is pretty much plotted out, so when I get to that, it shouldn't take long either.
If you'se guy'se find any erors or typos, let me know, Thanks for reading.

NEXT TIME ON: THE UNFORGIVEN
What happened after Wanderlust chased after Trixie? How does she know him? And why is he so keen on getting to know the former bearers of the Elements of Harmony?
Things between the royal sisters become tense when Celestia is forced to explain herself, and Luna realizes she's been subject to a lie.
And, the legend of Prince Æclypse continues, how can a mere pony take on the fearsome fire beast of antiquity, and live to be a legend?
And just what was Wanderlust going to ask Rarity about Twilight's castle?

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