G5.05: External Contacts
The more Lucky searched, the more frustrated she got. It wasn’t just that there was little written about the subjects of her interest in the Equestrian books—cultural difference was to be expected from an alien society, even if those differences were immensely frustrating. It was, rather, that it seemed the library had been deliberately scrubbed of information on specific subjects. Astronomy, for instance, was an art to the Equestrians, who studied the stars as a way of appreciating the creations of the mythical, deific version of Princess Luna.
There was almost no reference to exploring beyond Equestria, and what little there was seemed as heavily mythologized as the princesses themselves. What few texts described it was either clear fiction reminiscent of the Iliad, or so obviously revisionist that Lucky didn’t bother studying further.
In the way of creation myths, ponies focused on the founding of Equestria as the beginning of the world, even though they knew their kind had lived before, and lived in other places too. It’s like they’re willfully ignorant. Maybe Lucky was being paranoid, but it felt to her as though someone had intentionally purged the library of any information that might be useful for a search like this. Anypony who wanted to know more about the structure of their “planet” would be sorely disappointed. If the sciences were taught the same way in other parts of the country, ponies wouldn’t even get curious.
But she was, and she wasn’t about to give up. The other members of the crew had their own mission—apparently building the first city on KOI-087.01, which sounded exciting. Maybe they would be done by the time she had to go back, and she could show Lightning Dust what human settlements were like. That would be fun.
But in the meantime, Lucky had a unique advantage they didn’t. Living around ponies gave her access to much of their knowledge. She refused to believe that no one, not one pony in all Equestrian history, would have been even a little curious.
* * *
“What can I do?” The filly looked up from her little mountain of library books, looking like a puppy left in the rain. “It’s like nopony knows! None of you even care what you’re living on!”
Dust frowned, lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t know why you care so much about this, Lucky.”
“I do!” she said, not quite answering the question. “What does a pony do when the books at the library aren’t enough? I asked my teacher, asked the librarian…”
"We could go right to the top. Anypony can get an audience with a princess, though it's a different one depending on where you live. We're in the Crystal Empire, so Cadance is our pony. She's supposed to be one of the most liberal with her visits—I've heard you can meet her same day. She's trying to give her daughter more experience ruling, or..." She waved one hoof dismissively. "Who cares. So, we go to her, you ask your question. If you care that much.”
The princesses were supposed to be thousands of years old, or most of them were. Cadance was an exception—she’d only been around a few decades. She wouldn’t have the lost knowledge of the past. But she might know more than the ordinary citizens, and she might know who to ask. She would have resources that librarians simply didn’t have.
“But… you shouldn’t.” Dust looked up, reluctant. “Whyever it is you care about this so much… you shouldn’t go to Cadance about it.”
Lucky Break considered that a moment. She leaned back, pulling her wing in front of herself, and started nervously straightening feathers. "I-I... I don’t understand. Aren’t the princesses supposed to be the nicest ponies in Equestria?"
Dust smiled sadly at the filly, too innocent to have realized what a visit to the palace might entail. "When we go to talk to the princesses, we'll have to identify ourselves. I've... had papers made." She reached down to a nearby drawer with her mouth, opening it and withdrawing a dark folder there. She opened it on the floor for Lucky to see. Inside was all the forged papers it would take to prove Lucky was her daughter. Naïve or not, Lucky stared down transfixed, moving her fake birth certificate aside to stare at fake school completion certificates, and fake residency records at an orphanage in Cloudsdale.
Anyone who examined the records would find a scandalous story between the lines, of a teenage Lightning Dust who'd gotten pregnant while she was still an apprentice in the Cloudsdale Weather Trade School. Dust had been an orphan herself after all, and such behavior would've gotten her kicked out and disqualified from all her grants. It told of a foal birthed in secret, then hidden away so she could break the rules and make a better life for both. It was such a scandalous story Dust hoped that anypony studying these papers would see the lawbreaking on the surface and assume they'd discovered what she was hiding. If they looked deeper... if they contacted the orphanage, or any of the witnesses listed on Lucky's forms, they'd discover the truth.
"These got you into school," Dust said. "They helped get us an apartment to live in... without connecting you to the filly I rescued. Even if nopony knows who you are, there’s a chance somepony in there knows who I am. You vanish from Stormshire the same day I leave? Not even the police are that dumb. Anywhere we go near the authorities is near ponies who could connect the dots.
"You really want to talk to the princess? We have to give all our paperwork to get in. That’s a chance for us to be identified. Probably won’t be—you’re just a kid asking a question, that kind of thing happens all the time. But it’s a chance to be unlucky. Best case, nopony looks at us twice and we walk in no problem.”
"What's the worst?"
"They take you right then," Dust admitted. "It seemed like the crown wanted you to live with somepony other than me. Maybe if those Family Services ponies from Stormshire get involved, they lock me up in a dungeon somewhere for trying to keep you. Ponies don’t get foalnapped that often, but I’m sure that’s what they called it when I took you away from Stormshire."
Lucky slumped to the floor, deflating visibly. “I guess that’s out then. I can’t even, just… write a letter?”
“I… guess you could,” Dust said. There had to be something she could do to help the filly cheer up. “If you had your pick, I’d choose…” She lowered her voice to an angry growl. “Twilight.” It wasn’t that Twilight Sparkle had intended to ruin Lightning Dust’s life. But she’d still been part of it. “Twilight Sparkle is the princess of boring and obscure. If you just wrote her a letter, just… don’t sign with your whole name. It’s still possible she’d do more than write you back, anything that gets their attention is enough. But she probably won’t even respond. You’ll probably get a form letter from her assistant thanking you for being so interested in being a good citizen.”
But the filly didn’t hear her anymore. Anything that had saved her new obsession was enough to return her previous, excited self. “Really? I’ll write something right away!” She hurried over to the table, dumping out her saddlebags of school supplies and setting everything up.
“Sure thing, but… don’t mention my name, okay?”
“I…” The filly paused, looking up with confusion. “Why not?”
“Just don’t,” Dust said. “We’re not exactly friends. Putting my name on there would make her less likely to give you a good answer.”
“Oh, okay.” Lucky unrolled a fresh scroll, weighing down the top with one of her books.
“I’ve got to head off to work,” Dust said, glancing again at the clock. “You can handle getting to school on time, right?”
“Yeah,” the filly muttered, flicking one of her hooves absently through the air. “Sure thing, yeah. I can.”
“Good.” Dust didn’t have anything to carry, and she didn’t waste time with clothes. She hurried out the door, then out onto the balcony and out into the air. She flew quickly—too quickly for Lucky to follow in case she tried.
The filly was still curious about what Dust was doing. Without a weather team, a pony who had never done anything else was hardly drowning in opportunity. Lucky had guessed almost every job a pony could have, but she’d been wrong about them all. Dust’s place of work was… somewhat less reputable than any of her guesses.
Instead of heading into one of the Crystal Empire’s many towering buildings, Dust dodged behind an old warehouse then down a set of rickety stairs into the sewer access tunnels. They were kept clean, like everything in the Crystal Empire, but the smell of manure and worse things still permeated everything that came down here. It was so bad that Dust had to visit a bathhouse before picking Lucky up from school.
Not because she worked in sanitation—while undesirable, there was nothing to be ashamed about in a job like that. No, Dust’s work was much worse.
She casually approached an old gate with a sturdy lock, then twisted it aside. Though the lock looked secure, it had been gutted a long time ago, and was left hanging only for show. She replaced it behind her, then slowed her steps so as to make less noise. It was much too cramped to fly, even for an expert like her.
Around the bend, the hallways got much dirtier, ancient bricks coated with the slime of an ancient past. These tunnels led to the mines of King Sombra, where he had worked his slave army to the bone to harvest iron for his soldiers and gold for himself. There were worse stories of what he had done to ponies in these tunnels, but… they were probably just stories. Dust sure hoped everything they said about ghosts haunting the place were just stories too.
She passed ancient mining equipment, which looked much better than their true age. They’d been frozen in time right along with the ponies who lived here. So the old wooden carts, pickaxes, and headlamps had yet to rust away to nothing.
At the end of the long passage the space opened again, the ceiling becoming wide over her head. Dust’s lantern began to flicker in the sudden breeze, and she paused for a moment to make sure it wouldn’t go out accidentally. It wasn’t totally dark here, though there was nothing to guide her aside from the faint orange lights she could see near the bottom, where a tunnel opened in the ancient rock. And there at the bottom was her contact.
Rocky was a diamond dog, his coat graying and one of his eyes sightless and staring. His other was alert, and less disturbing than his predatory visage and glittering sharp teeth. They don’t eat ponies, it’s okay. They only eat rocks. She told herself that on every visit, and on every visit, she believed it a little less.
“Hey, Rocky,” she said, waving one hoof as she stopped in front of him. “Full cart today.” Indeed, the worn merchant’s cart looked like it had been filled to the brim with unmarked barrels and wooden crates. If it wasn’t so light, she might have trouble pulling it all.
“Ponies are restless,” Rocky said. “They smell something is coming. I smell the bits and so I deliver.”
Dust walked slowly around to the front of the cart, where the harness waited to receive the pony who’d pull it: her. “Great,” she said. “What’s the take this time?”
“Twenty percent,” said Rocky. “Small bonus for your daughter. Get her something nice for me.” Not that Dust didn’t appreciate the extra bits, but she knew those words were more than that. It was a reminder. Rocky knew how precarious Dust’s situation was, though he didn’t know the specifics. For all the risk Dust was taking with each of these shipments, she should’ve been making at least forty percent of the profit. All Rocky did was haul it here from beyond Equestria, where none of this was against the law. He could buy it in a market, then sell it for ten times as much to ponies desperate to fill their addictions.
“Yeah, alright,” she groaned, settling herself into the harness. “I will. I’ll leave the rest at the drop, same as always.”
“I know you will.” Rocky watched her suspiciously as she secured the harness, then gave her a harsh whack on the flank with a length of cord he always carried. “Now go, pony. My jewels are waiting.”
Lightning Dust wanted to kick him in the face. But she didn’t. Without the bits from Rocky, how would she pay the rent, or put fresh food on the table? The grass up here in the Crystal Empire tasted even worse than the grass of Equestria proper.
It’s okay, she thought, as she made her way up the tunnel. This one had been carved by the diamond dogs, and led into a back alley in the city where she could emerge past customs, and make her deliveries. Nopony had caught her yet. And they probably won’t. Probably.
But they would certainly keep their apartment for another week, and that was what mattered. Dust could deal with the authorities if it came to that.
* * *
The Sojourner didn't have a brig, but it did have four berths, each of which had a single bunkbed inside. With the major and Dorothy together, and Karl and Martin together, that left James with her own. It was there they took the pony, to the empty bottom bunk. There was no need to lock the doors—they required an implant to open. No implants, and the pony wouldn't be getting out.
"We can't just take him hostage!" James shouted into Major Fischer's face, once they'd shoved him into her sleeping quarters and shut the door. Not that he would be waking up for a few more minutes yet.
"We aren't," she replied, unmoved despite James's eight-centimeter height advantage. "We're preventing restricted information about our existence and mission from spreading. It was my mistake for expecting the ocean to be clear—we should've been flying higher to begin with. I don’t know why we’re having so much trouble gaining altitude—"
"So, what are we going to do?" Karl interrupted, sounding almost as angry as James felt. "Kill him?"
"No." The major lifted her handgun again, spinning it once on the magnetic grip. It settled again against the flesh of her leg, secure to the implant there. "Killing him would be unnecessary. If I had wanted to do that, I would have done it to begin with and shoved his body into the ocean. We'll take good care of him for the next few weeks, making sure he learns as little as possible about who and where we are. Once our new city is coming along, we can dump him somewhere in Equestria and let him go back to... whatever he was doing. So long as he never learns any details…" She shrugged one shoulder. “Looks like he was crazy to begin with. The sort of person people won’t believe.”
Dorothy didn't smell nearly as upset as Karl did. When she spoke, she only sounded surprised. "That means I can give him medical attention, right?" She didn't wait for a response, lifting the first-aid kit off the wall, taking it in her teeth, and opening the door with her implants.
"He’s out awfully far on his own. We can't keep him here! What if he’s important to Equestria somehow?"
"We don't care what happens to the native countries," Major Fischer interrupted. "We aren't involved... we aren't going to go hurting any of them, but we don't have to intervene. If there really is a danger, we can negotiate with whoever wins." She turned away, walking down the hall towards the bridge. "If anything, a disaster for Equestria will put us in a better position to negotiate." She stopped, turning around again, expression harder than the metal of the Sojourner. "This should go without saying, but since I know you're all civilian, let me be explicitly clear. Do not release the prisoner under any circumstances. If it looks like he might escape, you have my permission to kill him. But that's it."
She turned, marching away down the hall and rounding the corner to the bridge, leaving the two of them alone.
"Well that's shit," Karl said. "We should've just flown away. He never could've caught up with us."
"Yeah," James said, glaring down at her hooves. She wanted to break something, but there was nothing around but the deck-plating. Somehow, she didn't expect her hooves to come out as the winners in any contest of strength. She thought about several ways she could let the pony go, but none of them didn't end with her in chains somewhere. Or worse, recycled. It's not like the crew really needs me. They already have a translator.
James hurried into her bedroom, pausing only briefly as the door slid out of her way.
Dorothy had hauled the prisoner up onto the lower bunk, and had spread out the first-aid equipment there beside him on the bed. The pony himself had begun to stir, though he wasn't resisting. "Did you come in here to be a nurse?" Dorothy asked, not waiting for a response. "Tough, I'm not even a nurse myself. But someone has to do something. Anyway, you’re too late. I’m just finishing.”
"Don't let me get in your way. At least if we’re going to keep him hostage for awhile we can make sure he doesn’t get an infection or whatever.”
Now that she was close to him, James could see there was much to this pony she had missed. Namely: he’d been flying through injuries. They looked like the sort a pony might encounter while exploring somewhere dangerous—bruises, deep lacerations on his legs and the bottom of his barrel, a whole chunk of flesh missing and covered with dried bandage. Every injury had been inexpertly field-dressed, or at least it looked like they had from the shreds of cloth roughly approximating the color of his coat that now littered the bunk. Dorothy had cut all of them away with contempt, and filled the room with a scent of unmistakable infection.
Dorothy had apparently already finished with her treatment. He had fresh stitches, and glittering liquid bandage visible over flesh gouged raw by her callous attempt at treatment.
"I'm going to go stick my head in the shower," Dorothy muttered, looking disgusted. "Maybe a bleach shower." She left, taking the first-aid kit with her. That left James alone with the pony.
He started to stir, watching her groggily from the corner of the room. He still looked weak, though it was hard to say if that might've been from the treatment or if it was still the after-effects of being stunned.
"Kio okazis?" he asked, sounding dazed. But neither of them were wearing headsets anymore, so James could only guess at exactly what he meant. Then he looked down. "Ho, kuracistoj. Unukornuloj povas kuraci ion ajn magie. Tial devas esti kial mi ne povas... memori kiel mi subiris ĉi tien. Dolormagio."
James only smiled at him, edging around the room until she could reach her headset. This one wasn't for use out on the deck, but more for listening to music and communicating during ordinary duty. It wouldn't block out the sound. "Forerunner, can you translate that for me?" James asked, in a low whisper.
"Approximate translation is: ‘You are heard about doctor. Unicorns can magic pain. Down here can't remember.’"
Very approximate, James thought. The pony was still looking at her. She didn't know very much of his language yet. Only a few basic phrases, and simple words. "Ni havas magio. Povas sendi vortoj.” She pointed at the pad. "Atendu"
"Via ĉevala malbonas,” the pony said. "Ĝi estas tio, kion poneoj parolas Ĉevalie, ĉu ne? Kio estas la alia lingvo, kion vi parolantis?"
"Please give me another translation," James asked, in another hushed whisper. "And while you're at it, just translate everything he says from now on."
"Input accepted," said the Forerunner into her ear. "Approximate translation is: ‘Complaint about Eoch. Ponies speak Equestria, don't they? What else you say?’"
“You are recovering,” James said. “Your injuries will require some time to heal. You will have to stay here until that happens.”
As before, the computer translated for her. It also translated his response.
“Agreement. I comfortable guess could be here. But when done, must explain who you are! So much metal, no balloon! Flying very interesting direction away from Equestria. Airship not afraid of storms?”
“No, we’re not afraid of storms.” She looked up. “Who are you?”
“Deadlight,” the computer answered in its translation. “Exploring adventurer to find all the mysteries. Solving everything, going where others are afraid. Like Daring Do, but less savings because she does most of that.”
“Oh.” That answer did match the size of his gear and might explain his scars. If he spent his time exploring dangerous places, then… he was bound to get himself hurt. “I am James. Nice to meet you, Deadlight.”
He grinned at her from across the room, sitting more upright in bed. Of course, he was naked except for the bandages, so James got an eyeful of things she hadn’t seen since waking up a pony. She blushed despite herself, looking away as the computer translated again. “Can I call you prettiest twin?”
James left, ignoring the pony’s calls, her ears and tail both flat and lifeless as she did so. She didn’t make any promises about answering things for the pony—of course, they wouldn’t be able to. The farce that this was a hospital and he was here for his own good would be over soon. Maybe we can persuade the major to let him go when we get to wherever the city is going.
* * *
Lucky didn’t expect a response to her letter in anything less than a few weeks. She was surprised, therefore, to find a tightly wrapped scroll resting on their front porch on her way back from school, less than three days after she had sent it off to the princess of “Magic, Friendship, and Useless Facts.” Dust sure had some odd descriptions for this pony.
Everything about the scroll looked official—the seal pressed into the top, the rich purple ribbon tying it off, the quality of the penmanship writing Lucky’s name. Lucky eagerly set the scroll down on her table and untied it with her mouth—something that required such coordination she couldn’t do with hooves. It rolled open in front of her easily, displaying more of the same impeccable, perfect script. Even looking at her words, Lucky could tell she was reading the words of someone smarter than she was.
“Form letter?” Dust asked, shutting the door behind her and glancing down at the table to see. “Don’t be too—”
“No,” Lucky said. “She wrote back to me.”
“She wrote…” Dust trailed off. “Trim my feathers and see me fall, you’re right. Didn’t think she actually cared about her job, but… maybe there are other ponies who care about weird questions as much as you do.”
“Guess so,” she said, turning her attention completely to the letter.
Dear Lucky,
In nothig is my duty as a Princess of Equestria more satisfying than responding in an officeal capacity to those messages I receve from the thougtful hooves of inquiring young ponies such as yourself. I remember the hegemonious attitudes of those with positions of authority in matters of scholarship and how inquiries of research into the hintherland often yield egregeiously irrelevant results. I hope this message might allow you to atain clarity.
Resonable ponies have attempted to navigate the terbulent waters of research into subjects laquishing under the practices encapsalated by the Canterlot College of Arts and Sciences. Aresting the progress of Equestria is not my intent, and I will be greatful to assist you in unfetering yourself from these erronious statutes.
Conventional strattification of the field of practical philosophy and art has always observed a pattern of 5 derivations. Wrechedly, every expert has failed to produce a convincingly thorough (or even entertaneing) breakdown of the field. Much of what I have read amounts to speckulation.
Throughly exhaustive research on my own part leads me to believe that ultimately there is only 1 field, divided needlessly as to divert tantelizing discoveries that would otherwise be enabled by cross-discipline cooperation. It would be an especeal shame to see this lacklusterly implementation of proper friendship discourage the inquiry of one such as yourself, who should be lavishied with praise for her noteable inquisitiveness.
I suspect you will conclude my decision obstanate, but I am unable to provide you with further information than is normally contained in those atlases and nuianced dioramas commonly displayed in Equestria’s libraries. I have endevored to supply every library with suitable materials ever since my reign as Princess of Friendship began, so I am certain your library is sufficiently equipped.
Exploring beyond the reach of Equestria has been sparse, and conditions beyond our borders are dangerous. The College has, for the moment, decided to concentrate its efforts on improving conditions within Equestria. I know this is an unsatisfactory answer. A promising young mind like yours shouldn’t be told your questions don’t have good answers. If you’re unhappy with my decision, I’ve enclosed train vouchers. Feel free to use them to visit me in Ponyville if you discover anything of interest.
Warm Regards,
Princess Twilight Sparkle
Lucky Break stared down at the letter for a long time, her excitement draining rapidly. She read and re-read the first few paragraphs several times, trying to make sense of the inconsistency. This was one of the responses she had expected, informing her that research into the area of her curiosity was disallowed or simply not interesting. That suggests at least some of the natives know there’s more to where they live. Maybe they don’t want the others to figure out the truth.
“What’s wrong?” Dust asked, replacing the painting on the far wall. She’d been stashing bits behind it—always ready to grab if they needed to make a quick escape. “No good answer?”
“No…” Lucky muttered, her brow wrinkling as she scrutinized the page. Part of her wondered if she’d just been completely wrong about the rules of composition in Eoch, and there might be an alternative spelling for many of the words more appropriate for formal settings. Princess Twilight hadn’t called her out on the errors in her own letter because she was just a child, and expected to make stupid mistakes.
“Hold on, are those train tickets?” Dust stopped a meter away from the table, staring down at the little pile of bright pink slips. Each one proclaimed it was “Redeemable for any ticket sold by Equestria’s National Rail Service.” “Horsefeathers, those are expensive. She sent four?”
“I guess… two for each way?” Lucky pushed the little pile towards Dust. “Here, you can sell ‘em if you want.”
“No, no!” Lightning Dust retreated as though she’d tried to give her rotting meat. “If Twilight had anything to do with those, you just keep ‘em. Why did she send you train tickets?”
“I’m… not sure,” Lucky admitted. “The letter is… political nonsense. Kinda what I thought I’d get. Obviously, ponies don’t want anyone asking this kind of question, and she was nice about telling me.” But then there were the tickets. How would Lucky “discover anything of interest” if the entire field was essentially forbidden? How could she possibly track something down the scholar princess had missed? She didn’t know the answer to that, but something about the letter just didn’t sit right with her.
Lucky would pin it to her wall, where she could look at it until it made sense.
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8332154
Well you don't have to wait anymore.
8332222
Woohoo!
Politics!
Fuck the system, smash it open.
Good lord that letter gave me a headache... Somehow I doubt it was actually Twilight that wrote that letter...
Something tells me Spike wrote that letter. You'd think his spelling had improved through the years of serving Twilight, though I suppose it's not like she sees the letter before he sends it. Maybe he thinks he's spelling it correctly?
Just send back a picture of the dyson ring and Twilight will teleport to you directly.
8332276
I feel that would be a pretty bad idea considering if Lightning is standing next to Lucky when she pops in.
Haven't read yet, but I predict there will be sides, each with a James Irwin a piece. I wanna finish my own writing, then read this before I update. THIS IS MY REWARD
8332279
Twilight wouldn't even notice Lightning Dust existed at that point.
It would be awfully nice if Twilight wrote it herself. For being the Princess of Obscure and Useless Facts and Friendship and the former Element of Magic, she sucks at daily functions. She would be a knowledge-hoarding vegetable if Spike wasn't around to be her butler-fax machine.
That letter is fake. There is no way in hell Twilight would spell that poorly, nor would she dictate it to Spike if he spelt that poorly.
Either Spike wrote that letter, and he's somehow bad at writing, or there's a hidden message in it.
Does no one else suspect that it could be a code? If smartest pony is being weirdly political, and making odd mistakes, and providing a way to meet up, I suspect espionage.
Yeah, at that point, just wait until the Forerunner makes another ship and fly around the ring. Upside-down. It'll probably be more fun that way.
Something's up, for sure. Why did the spelling mysteriously improve in the last paragraph? Riddle me that...
I winder where exactly those directions lead.
It's a TRAP!.... After all, if Moondancer is involved....nothing says that the scholar Twilight isn't......
If I had the time and energy, I'd go through that letter and make a list of all the missing letters and misspelled words to see if the errors reveal a hidden message.
Very interesting chapter.
8332355
Because, that letter is hiding an encrypted message, hidden in plain sight.
If anyone would have noticed the inconsistencies, and the historical revision that has clearly taken place; it would be the Obsessive, Scholar Princess hereself, Twilight Sparkle.
Now, we wait; and see if Lucky is clever enough to identify, and decode, Twilight's message.
The implications of that letter is grave. Twilight would have long since made sure Spike was proficient in spelling and she herself would never abide by even one of those errors. (If you want to use dysfunctional as an excuse that would be limited to her hand/hornwriting.)
So that leaves the possibility that these errors were fully intentional. So if Twilight felt the need to write like this then it is possible she either thinks dragon fire faxing can be intercepted or more likely that she feels she is being watched.
Possibly by normally benign sources like Royal guards if she's currently at one of the palaces, or maybe even in her own home. Again it could be guards if this fic's Twilight has guards in her personal castle. But more likely she has reason to believe her house is bugged in some way. I'd wager there is a spell that can read her letters as they are written, thus the state of this letter wouldn't trigger any red flags. And Twilight included the tickets so that Lucky would take the hint that dragon mail is unsecure.
On the other hand, that bug spell could actually be a trap of sorts in that it scrabbled the letter before it was sent and hastily filled it with nonsense. Possibly to cause the recipient to lose interest or think Twilight can't help them. However, that spell didn't account for the train tickets.
Who ever cast the second version of that spell probably banked on the higher level of general trust between ponies and/or the overall disinterest ponies have for this sort of topic. A flash of interest snuffed out by a negative letter. But the caster couldn't have accounted on a pony with a human mind, and we humans are highly inquisitive, especially an explorer like Lucky. And then there is the only pony who ever had enough inquisitiveness to try(and fail) to understand Pinkie Sense. Those two ponies together are enough to start unraveling this conspiracy.
https://m.I wonder if the misspellings are a code.
8332266
8332264
Yeah, I completely agree that Twi didn't write that letter. But I don't think Spike was the one who sent it. My money's on Luna because she would be that verbose in her writing, as well having potential spelling issues with writing in modern Eoch. I could be wrong, but that's my theory.
I've done a little codebreaking.
If you take the first letter of each misspelled word, and put spaces between paragraphs, you get:
north rtleague swces tten one (e)
With the (e) being a grammatical error rather than a spelling one In my opinion
I may have done this imperfectly, but this feels like a use for those train tickets, to get to a certain place. It's too much of a coincidence for it to be this coherent
8332337
Also, it's a very verbose letter. She's not usually this flowery. But coded messages take up space....
8332382
I was thinking about doing the same but it may not be solveable without a key, and I believe that may be what Twi is hinting at when she mentions the atlases and dioramas she made sure are in all Equestrian libraries. The thing abou 5 fields and uniting them to 1 field feel like part of a key as well.
8332440
Now all we need is for someone to translate the code!
...
Or we could just wait for the plot to reveal it for us, that works too.
8332440
Now all we need is for someone to translate the code!
...
Or we could just wait for the plot to reveal it for us, that works too.
8332435
I read "north heart leagues west tell none".
8332380
Moondancer was probably just a patsy, working for someone higher up the chain of command; and was told just enough about the situation to lead her to certain desired conclusions.
That superior may indeed be Twilight; or more likely i think, she was operating on orders from one or both of the Royal Sisters.
Either way, the mystery, and the conspiracy continues to deepen; who knows what Lucky may find waiting for her, at the bottom of the rabbit hole.
8332435
"north heart leagues west tell none" is what I got after following your hint. Directions to someplace, and instructions to tell none.
Edit: After some further thought, I think the numbers "5" and "1" are also part of the code, being the number of leagues to travel in the specified direction. So my guess is "North from the (Crystal) Heart 5 leagues, then west 1 league."
Ugh, codes. It doesn't look like a simple substitution or first-letter-of-weird-word sort of deal. Probably just a prodding to get the problem pony to Ponyville where she can look them over.
8332474
I got the same. More specifically, I got:
northheaRtleAguesWesTtelnone
Then made everything lowercase and added spaces:
north heart leagues west tel none
Then I looked for numbers in the letter and found 5 and 1. So maybe it means: "51 leagues northwest of the crystal heart. Tell no one."
8332474
8332484
Just got it fully now
northheartleagues(5)west(1)tellnone
Also, no scholar worth any merit would write 5 and 1 as numbers, as they look out of place. They certainly mean something.
So yay?
I was thinking about the Dyson Ring. If the days and Nights are roughly about the same as ours then the ring should be going along the red dwarf star's North south axis.
The reason is to let the sun rotate around the land in an east to west manner. If the ring is going in the East West Axis then there has to be more than just two satellites to keep the near 24 hours day cycle.
Only, I can think of with the East West axis ring to work is the two celestial bodies orbit each other. Where as the moon travels east to west in the sky behind the now off or hidden from view "Sun" goes west to east.
I wonder if Twilight expects Lucky to follow the secret directions in the message or to just use the tickets to visit her with the answer to the riddle? Is she looking for more adventurer archaeologists like Deadlight, or just ponies with brains and curiosity?
Also, I'd been starting to think of James-2 as UnLucky. Now, it seems James-2 could get Lucky as well. "Prettiest twin."
8332440 Depending on how wordy Lucky got, Twilight could have been just responding in a similar manner.
Of course Twilight wants to know the truth. I bet the errors in the letter is some kind of hidden message. Couldn't have picked a better pony to ask.
And here I was thinking I was so smart. By the time I refreshed the page to see if I should add what I had managed to glean from the letter, it turned out that not only had others already figured it out, but they had caught things which I had missed.
In any case, it was a good bit of fun. Good use of reader engagement.
8332512
I suspect the tickets are a backup plan. Twilight knows that anyone curious enough not to be satisfied with the official sources is likely also smart enough to piece together her hidden message. Just in case, though, she wants to give Lucky the chance to meet her in person.
Well well well. It looks like Star is back to using codes... This is definitely a story to watch.
Maybe Spike is on a break or injured his claw maybe? Or Trixie got the letter and wrote it back as a joke... IDK, now I have wait another week.
8332401
I think twilight is on her side as well, and i think Twi is letting lucky know that something is up when she remarks in this quote " Throughly exhaustive research on my own part leads me to believe that ultimately there is only 1 field, divided needlessly as to divert tantelizing discoveries that would otherwise be enabled by cross-discipline cooperation. " combined with the fact of the deliberate misspellings which i think as well has a code in it. To the fact she sent two tickets and to meet personally if she finds anything on the supposed censored area of research. Plus we know Twilight has a unquenchable thirst for knowledge and has her own telescope.
I feel like Lucky Break should ask the probe for a bunch of gold or something. Forerunner was said to have done significant mining and I feel that having some extra money would be good for the mission.
The only thing missing is a time. How would Twilight know when Lucky will be at the rendezvous point?
The letter was very Twilight, only she would write such a dry letter
Just as others have thought and speculated on here, a break down of the misspelled words reveals that it's definitely a message.
nothig
officeal
receve
thougtful
hintherland
egregeiously
atain
Resonable
terbulent
laquishing
encapsalated
Aresting
greatful
unfetering
erronious
strattification
5
Wrechedly
entertaneing
speckulation
Throughly
1
tantelizing
especeal
lacklusterly
lavishied
noteable
obstanate
nuianced
endevored
Suggestions:
If there really is a danger, we can negotiate with whoever wins.
- whomever
At least if we’re going to keep him hostage for awhile we can make sure he doesn’t get an infection or whatever.
- for a while / awhile
8332264
8332266
8332337
8332355
8332545
8332549
8332626
I think I know what's going on, but I will...
...
Tell none.
8332767
It's better that way
8332721
Also hegemonious