Tales of Aetheria

by Bloobweez

Mountain Ascent

It had been far too long that I had put this off. Drifting from place to place until finally I found myself in the basin town of Pondera, right along the edge where greenery could still be seen. Preparing myself for the journey, I buttoned up a shirt that had seen better days, affixed some bracers on my forehooves and spats for hind, and a leather coat for warmth, though I made sure to poke my wings out the holes, and for my head a wide brim hat and some goggles. Never knew when a dust storm would come by. Next came a bandolier holding my Shock Revolver, a hand me down from a former boss somewhere at some point in the past, and lastly an old hunting rifle in case I ran into anything the revolver wouldn’t put down.

Next it was time to pack my bag, a blanket for sleeping, enough food for the trip there and back, a tarp was always good to have and even better with rope. Lastly, I turned to the urn. It hurt to look at, and internally I stabbed myself for taking so long. I hadn’t even done anything, and she obviously deserved more. With a sigh, I set it into the bag, fastened the buckles, and was on my way.

Life in Pondera was simple, no airship access due to how close it was to the Maelstrom so the only way to come in or out was by hoof or rail. The main road, if it could be called that, was fairly empty today as it was most days. Typically, at this time of day, the ponies here would either be working the fields for every last crop they could force out of the soil, or in the forest bringing down some trees for whatever state was looking to add some cheap airships to their fleet. Of course, every town with its name had a general store, and it was here I stopped in.

“Finally leaving us?” the clerk asked as he spotted the tortoise shell of a bag I carried.

“No, just taking a trip up the mountains. Should only be gone a week,” I replied as I set the pack down on the floor by the counter.

“Ah, so what brings you here?” he asked, leaning against the counter to follow me as I dove into the bag. “Need some extra supplies? I think the missus just finished another batch of biscuits, they should keep fresh for a bit.”
“No no no,” I started as I pulled the urn out and sat it on the counter. “Was looking for something to freshen this up.”

“Ah, who was it if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Someone close,” I stated with finality.

“All right, all right, well… Lemme see if there’s anything I got around here, usually this isn’t the sort of thing a customer is looking for.”

He started digging around, checking random aisles for anything he might have. My eyes started glancing along the shelf behind the counter, more just looking for somewhere to focus my eyes until finally I picked up on something, up on the top shelf.

“Hey, uhh, what about that?” I said, pointing a hoof as I turned back towards him.

His head poked up out of the aisle as he followed my hoof, “Huh, that? The Hearthswarming wreath?”

“Yeah, can you grab it?”

Trotting behind the counter, he grabbed a hook and finagled around with it before finally hooking the wreath and lowering it down onto the counter. “Guess I forgot to put it away last Hearthswarming. It’s not actually for sale, just some store decoration for the holidays, sorry.”

I leaned in close, examining it. It was a traditional wreath, wrapped from boxwood, but accented with winterberries. The preservation of the plants was fairly surprising, and I expressed as such to the clerk.

“Yeah, it’s been in the family for some time, from way before the Maelstrom was a thing. We go ahead and rejuvenate them every so often to keep ‘em from rotting away. Still, though, I’d better put it away, is there anything else here you think would work?”

“Please! I mean, please…” I thought for a moment, “Forty bits, and I’ll bring it back. Just… She liked winterberries.”

The clerk hmmm’d and hawww’d as he fiddled with the wreath in his hooves, thoughts running through his head before finally, “Sixty bits. And you bring it back.”

“Yes, I- thank you.” Blushing, I fished around in a pocket and withdrew a coin pouch, counted out the bits, and set ‘em on the desk. “Two weeks, and I’ll have it back. Promise.”

Double checking my count before passing the wreath over, he nodded, “It’s not often nowadays that you can trust somepony’s word, but… I’ll be waiting.”
I couldn’t be offended, and took the wreath, wrapped it around the base of the urn, and then gently stuffed it back into the pack. “Like I said, one week, and back on the shelf or wherever else you want it.”

With a nod to acknowledge the accord, I was dismissed and so I left. Outside, I looked at the mountain, the base a few miles North and the top far too high to guess at. Down here at basin level, you could still make out some green on the trees, but the higher up you went the more lifeless the mountain became. Up at the top was where I intended to go to finally make my peace, and so with the last of my preparations, I set off.

---

The first couple of days were the easiest, I was fresh with energy, able to forage with some difficulty my meals to conserve supplies, and filled with determination. As Pondera disappeared behind the brush and the trees began to become more and more bare, spirits lowered and soon I was doing little else but counting the hoofsteps as I slowly rose higher and higher. Life was a cycle of waking up, having a breakfast of eggs, packing up camp, hiking, unpacking camp, having a dinner of potatoes, and finally sleep. I had packed some biscuits that had already lost most of their chewiness that I would usually munch on while I walked, washing them down with water to make chewing easier, and to clear out the dry feeling in my mouth.

The fourth day I began noticing occasional marks on the trees. Deep cuts in sets of four, they were evidence of a desperate scavenger hoping to find something along the browning leaves up above. A bear. Continuing to proceed like normal would be dangerous, the weight of the pack made me a very easy target, and judging by how fresh the marks were, the scavenger would be nearby.

I set up camp early that day, making sure to leave all of my food in the backpack. I then spent the rest of the day scouting a clearing and using some rope to dangle the bag from a tree branch. With the trap set, I found myself a bush that still maintained some of its greenery to hide away in, not wanting to be seen as I brought my rifle to bare. I had twenty cartridges set in the bandolier and seven loaded into the rifle, more than enough to bring a bear down. And there I waited.

I was getting a bit restless, a branch had ended up getting poked into my flank when I moved to take a sip from my canteen several minutes ago, when finally I heard the bear approaching. Taking in a deep breath, I quickly learned to live with the branch and focused down the sights of the rifle, waiting for the bear to come into view. Finally, a withered husk of the sort commonly found in the wilderness of the Crystal Baronies emerged into my field of vision.

As it sauntered its way towards the bag, I felt pity for the beast, but knew it was better for both of us for it to end this way. And so I focused the rifle ahead of it, waiting for the beast to stop before I dare pull the trigger. Once it reached the backpack, rose up onto its hindlegs and began fumbling with the bag with its claws while it sniffed around with its snout. This was my moment. Not wanting to risk hitting the bag, I aimed for the bear’s heart and pulled the trigger. The roar of the rifle echoed through the dying forest, but was quickly joined by a matching roar by the bear! My shot had missed!

What little concealment I had didn’t help me now that the bear was alert, and it quickly began barreling its way towards me. Caught in the moment, I fired shot after shot, working the lever between each pull of the trigger, but it wasn’t enough! The bear rammed into me, pushing me over onto my back, and reared up to scar my face the way it had oh so many trees around here. By pure reflex, I held the rifle up and managed to block the swipe, but doing so had bent the barrel of the rifle and shattered the wood furniture. The bear roared again, and I took the moment to put distance between the two of us while I fumbled the Shock Revolver from its holster.

Kzzzt! spat the revolver as it pulled magical energy from the gem and shot a green beam at the bear. My aim was wild and so I fired off several more shots, Kzzzt! Kzzzt! The bear soaked the single hit with an angry roar as it once again charged at me. I fired off the last three rounds before quickly popping open the cylinder and slamming home a fresh gem. The bear once again shoved into me, this time knocking me out of the air and pinning me to a tree! As its claw raised up, I desperately emptied the second gem into the bear’s torso. The claw hung in the air for a moment and I braced myself for the worst, before it finally fell and the massive beast tumbled, with me atop it.

Rising up, I winced and turned back to see that the trunk had wounded my wing. I tried to flutter myself up, but once again felt the pain roar through me. With a sigh, I returned to the opening and shot the line holding the backpack up. Once caught, I slid the revolver back into its holster, threw the back onto my good side, and made my way back to camp. By the time I made it there, the sun had set, and the eggs inside the backpack were dripping out onto my good wing.

---

I didn’t see anything else living after the bear. All green evaporated and soon the wood joined it. It was just me, the smog filled skies above, and the stone of the mountain. A rather lonely setting, but I was sure it would be worth it. The nights were quiet, empty, leaving me with my thoughts. I would think back to the tales I had been told in my youth, of a time before all of this war and mistrust. A time when you could see the sun shining bright during the day, and distant specks of light called stars at night. A time when there was harmony in these lands. A time before the Maelstrom, before the Celestial Kingdom, the Lunar Republic, and all the other states that wage petty grievances against one another. A time when a mailmare managed to save all of Equestria!

I’m not ashamed to say that I cried a few of those nights.

Another couple of days and I caught notice of what seemed to be a good spot. My wing aching still, wrapped in some cut fabric from my shirt, I decided to check it out. I was certainly high enough, but I wanted to make sure wherever I did this was the right location for it. As I stepped closer to the precipice, my hooves slowed down. I fell backwards onto my posterior in awe, you could see so much from here. Having served a number of airship captains before, I was no stranger to the panoramic views, but making the journey on hoof somehow made it so much more beautiful.

From here I could spy the Maelstrom, a ball of radiated magic energy, leftover from some epic battle between one of the mythological princesses and a horrid demon, if you believed the stories at least. It consumed my focus as I thought of all of the hurt it had brought to the world, the destruction of so many lives, the devastation of the Basin, the death of harmony in this land which was once called Equestria. It took several moments to pull my attention away and look further away, spying New Canterlot as a shadow in the haze. The castle which housed the queen of the inappropriately named Harmonic Kingdom, likely planning whatever raids she could think of against the other Ponish powers.

Various airships soared just beneath the clouds of smog, delivering goods all across the Aetherian continent. Along the surface I was able to spot one of the few forests that refused to give in to the Maelstrom, as well as the village Pondera. That brought me back to why I was here in the first place, and given the view I felt this was as apt a location as any other. I dropped my pack off and dug around for the urn. Pulling it out, I found the wreath was beginning to wilt, but I should still have plenty of time to make my way back to the general store. I then approached the very edge of the precipice, taking another look out at the wide vista.

I wasn’t very much religious, but I still bowed my head and did my best to pay my respects in the way of the Harmonic cult. It was what she would want. Raising my head, I removed the lid on the urn and readied myself. Tipping the urn brought a gentle stream of ashes that increased in velocity as I tipped it more and more over the edge. The wind caught them and began to drag them along its current as I watched, tears once more filling my eyes.

As the ashes drifted out, I began noticing tiny red specks in the air. I wiped the tears from my eyes to focus and noticed that the ashes had been catching the light of… I glanced around before finally I caught a red glow emanating from the Maelstrom. Turning back to the ashes, I found them twinkling red, like the stars I had been told of so many years ago. Was this what my grandmother meant? Was I now, here, seeing the same sorts of stars that used to fill the night sky? As I watched them shift with the winds, I almost could’ve sworn that I saw the shape of a heart for a moment, but before I could confirm it, it was gone.

I sat there for a while, just watching, even after the ashes had drifted far enough away that I could no longer see the scarlet stars. I wasn’t sure what to do, what to say, until finally, my head sagged. “See ya, Nana. Love you.”

Author's Note:

Here's the fully compiled story, had a couple people read over it and they found it made sense. Let me know what other sorts of stories you'd like to see from this world!