The Heart of Gaia

by noteperson

Upon the road

Brother Dunstable could hardly have been enjoying his journey more. The morning was sunny and pleasant, and the horizon was filled with the promise of yet more clement weather to come. The little violet-colored friar cheerfully doffed his wide, floppy straw hat with his magic and waved it at a farmer plowing his field in the distance.

Dunstable always traveled overland if he could help it. Although it would have been far faster for him to ride the Great Western into Hoofington and proceed to the Priory of Luminous Cart Puller from there, he much preferred to journey through the countryside on hoof. It was possible to make good friends on a train trip, of course. But for Dunstable, staying at inns or enjoying the hospitality of a farm family was the central pleasure of travel. Even sleeping beneath a hedge far from any pony settlements was more satisfying than a stateroom in any grand palace, so long as he could share it with a new friend.

Travelling along the road with a pony for a day was a chance to experience the kindness of another creature and share the gift of laughter with them; and being welcomed into the modest kitchen of a remote farmhouse was a fine way to receive the gift of generosity. The friar always felt he could most freely practice his vocation to harmony while travelling abroad in the land.

He gazed up at the sky; it was as deep and pure a blue as he had seen it all year. Cheery white clumps of cloud spotted it here and there, lazily drifting to the east. Dunstable smiled to see the clouds were in no more hurry than he was. Dunstable considered himself something of an expert cloud gazer – in fact, for a time as a colt he had thought it might well be his special talent. Glancing down the road and seeing no creature coming for some distance, he decided to indulge himself for a time.

“Ah! That one will be a hippogiff, and… ah! There’s a nice shady tree. Hm, that one’s a bit tricky, I’ll come back to it.” Craning his neck back, he examined the clouds directly overhead. “Oh, that one’s a bunny for sure! Look how he’s hopping along, ha… oh, and that one’s a snake. Look out, little friend! You’re heading right for him.” The cloud-bunny showed little inclination to heed his advice, so he rotated his gaze to the north and continued the important work of cloud taxonomy for a time.

Once he was satisfied that the sky had been put in good order, he flipped his hat back atop his orange shock of a mane. Lowering his gaze to earth once more, he surveyed the countryside around him. The road continued to stretch roughly north by east ahead of him until it disappeared over a wide hill. Trees dotted gently rolling hills to his west, and to his east a patchwork quilt of fields blanketed the valley wall down to a watercourse he could barely make out in the distance. Here and there a small clump of farm buildings – barns, stables, houses – broke the horizon line. Dunstable noted that many of them had been painted in the bright colors that seemed to be favored in this part of the country. He much preferred them to the drab grays employed by the rock farmers in the vicinity of Hollyhock Abbey, his home for the past eight years. But, despite the staid facades the petriculturists shared with their homes, Dunstable had come to learn their hard noses and hard heads hid the warmest of hearts.

He allowed himself a small sigh at that thought. Of course he was excited to help establish a new community in the pursuit of harmony, and he knew there would be many bright young colts and fillies to teach in the school at Luminous Cart Puller’s. Even so, he had grown attached to Hollyhock during his years teaching foals there and working in the community. “But,” he reminded himself with a small grin, “life is change, after all. Though we might not always like it, we can always accept it with good cheer.”

As he crested the hill, he saw he was approaching a fork in the road, beyond which lay a menacing mass of overgrowth that could only be the Everfree Forest. Humming a cheerful tune to himself, he drew a roll of parchment from the depths of his cowled grey habit. A little flourish of magic unfurled what proved to be a large map of southwestern Equestria in front of him. As a pair of reading glasses settled onto his muzzle, Br. Dunstable peered at the map, glancing back up at the path ahead of him from time to time. “Ah, I’m nearly to Ponyville,” he murmured to himself. Carefully rolling up the map, a cloud of teal magic returned the parchment and glasses to the folds of his robes, and the unicorn set out again with a determined stride. Coming to the fork, he turned due east, where the road skirted the very edge of the Everfree.

Although he would arrive in Ponyville in the early afternoon, it was his intention to stop there for the rest of the day. Such a small village was unlikely to have an inn, but he was certain he could take a room at the rectory for a day. And while it promised to be a most pleasant afternoon to spend anywhere in this part of the world, he was particularly keen to pass it in Ponyville. Last Festiva Luna, when the Archabbess of Reinrad had visited Hollyhock Abbey, he had overheard her saying that the current Avatars of the Elements were all dwelling together in the town! Dunstable dearly hoped he could seek them out when he arrived. A chance to meet the mares who were the very embodiment of the virtues to which he had dedicated his life was too good to miss.

As he treaded along the path and Celestia’s sun slowly climbed the vault of the sky, the friar imagined what it would be like to meet the Elements of Harmony in the flesh. He tingled just thinking about it; he had seldom been so excited in all his days! As wonderful thoughts of the stories he would be able to tell the brethren at the priory filled his head, Br. Dunstable just couldn’t help himself. He engaged in what was a great passion and an occasional embarrassment for him: he began to sing.

“Verily, verily, thou shalt be in Harmony today with me…”

He didn’t have a notably good voice, but he had a deep love for vocal music and the great masterworks of the Equestrian choral tradition often sprung to his lips unbidden. Singing like this had made many an unaccompanied mile pass more quickly, and so it proved today. He made rapid progress, and soon, with the sun blazing above at the height of its arc, he was confronted by a roadside marker: Ponyville, 7 miles.

“Ha ha, it won’t be long now!” he chuckled to himself.

The terrain on the south side of the road, opposite the forest, had grown stonier and risen in elevation as he traveled. Now, the road was wending its way up a rocky tor to pass through a cleft at its apex. As Br. Dunstable chuffed his way up, he spied the figure of a pony resting at the entrance of the cleft.

“Ah, hail, fellow-traveler!” Dunstable called out. The figure turned and stared at him intently, then rose to meet him as the friar crested the hill. “Good day to you,” the figure murmured.

“Taking a lunch break, are you? I might join you, but not for long! I’m trying to reach Ponyville with as much time to spare as possible. But, if you’re going my way I’d be grateful for some company.”

“Oh. Yes.” The other pony seemed rather distracted, and began leaning to and fro to examine the berobed brother.

“Ha ha, taking a look at my get-up, are you? My name is Brother Dunstable, and I’m a friar of the Order of Teachers. What is your name, my friend?”

“May I see your hat?”

Br. Dunstable frowned slightly at the sudden non sequitur. “My hat? Hum, certainly.” He levitated the hat from his brow and cocked it at an angle for the review of the other pony.

But the pony didn’t seem interested in the hat at all. Rather, his eyes locked on the horn atop the friar’s head. Seeing it, he smiled. “Oh, yes. Quite nice. I must get one of those for myself. Ah! Yes, yes, I’ll be happy to accompany you to Ponyville, Dunstable. I’m headed that way, yes.” The other pony looked around, then returned his gaze to the monk, giving him a slightly too-wide smile that was deeply unsettling. “But, I wonder… if you would assist me with a small task first?”

“Erm, I suppose, though I can’t tarry here long, you see…” the unicorn replied, not wanting to seem rude, but no longer particularly wishing to pause to speak with this pony, either.

“Oh, yes, yes, it will take but a moment. Would you just come this way, and I’ll show you.”

“Hm, alright, if it will just take a moment,” Br. Dunstable agreed, following the cloaked pony through the cleft in the rock and around the edge of the outcropping.

“Now!” his companion hissed. From atop the tor, a number of cloaked creatures fell upon the hapless little monk.

“Oh! OH! Help!” Br. Dunstable cried, bucking wildly. Sadly, the friar was neither large of frame nor strong of leg, and the poor fellow was quickly overpowered by a group of strange, feral creatures who seized and bound him with grasping claws.

The cloaked pony never turned about to look at the sad display, but when the sounds of struggle had faded away, spoke once again. “My friends, Dunstable here has been kind enough to offer to assist us in our little matter. And a thankful thing it is, for this one completes our set.” The pony smiled darkly to himself. “Now, I have promised him this won’t take long, so let us begin straight away.” With that, he began walking toward the Everfree Forest. His minions followed suit, dragging the weakly kicking friar behind them. The group soon disappeared into the dense foliage that marked the boundary of the forbidding forest.