The Immortal Dream

by Czar_Yoshi

Tranquil Freedom

I stepped onto the first train platform in the Day District, a hot breeze blowing against my coat as the last light of evening crawled up the eastern mountain face. I almost felt like I could see the sun's rays stretching over the darkening valley of the Night District, the air shimmering and distorting from the day's lingering heat. It was hot for me too; uncomfortably so. But, overall, I felt good, because I was here on my own.

Kitty had been sent back to Jamjars with a message that I was going to explore for a while, and with all of Egdelwonk's merch that I didn't feel like carrying in public. If Jamjars didn't like that, she was welcome to come find me herself and drag me home, but I already regretted nothing. The open sky, the wind, the knowledge that everyone around me was a stranger and we knew nothing about each other at all...

This was what I had been missing.

I ran to the edge, where a stone fence separated the platform from a dropoff to the next street a long ways below. Then, putting my hooves on the fence and feeling the wind in my mane, I breathed deeply and took it all in.

Ironridge's sunset was red, exceptionally so, but it was behind me so I couldn't watch it directly. Out to my right, to the north, I could see the horizon, a gap in the sun-yellowed mountains that formed Ironridge's boundary, with the Night District's sprawl of trees and buildings pouring out through it like cereal from a broken bowl. Drifting left, my gaze found factories, big and boxy shapes of gray that crawled their way up the northwestern Day District, like the airship port where Gerardo had moored us. Was he still here in Ironridge, I wondered? I didn't know.

To my left and to the south, the colors of sunset seemed faintest, blocked by the mountains, which were bluer in the dampening light. Several waterfalls fell, I noted, guided down the mountain side by a pair of steep aqueducts the roads and buildings all ran under. The buildings to the south were much less building-y and much more underground, with only facades and windows to show above the surface. In the Day District, at least.

The valley floor was a field of orchards and trees, tall and wild and small and cultivated alike, split up by a web of cities within a district and roads that connected them, each one with its own building style and identity. The closest one looked like a chaotic cake, with buildings stacked atop each other in layers, high enough that the upper floors might even have a view above the trees, yet it was ramshackle and clearly unplanned. To the northeast, I could see a settlement full of low-slung buildings on a part of the mountain slope that was deforested, but not high enough to belong to the Day District proper, all with flat roofs and crenelations. Far to the north, there was a noble, silvered tower with a wider top floor, and I could make out a large, round building far to the west, though by there my advantage of height was gone and all I could see were occasional gaps in the trees.

What did I want to bet each of those places had names, all that I didn't know? What did I want to bet there were ponies who had called each of them home for generations, who had stories of those places that went back hundreds of years? Ironridge, to hear Icereach's modified history tell it, was around eight hundred years old.

There was so much I didn't know, and... this reminded me of why I loved the unknown. Standing alone at the edge of a cliff, Cold Karma's dictators and lunatics far away behind me, it was easy to believe that some of the things I hadn't discovered yet were good things. Wonderful things, even. Maybe I had struck out a few times before, but with this much left unexplored, there had to be more for me to see. And Ironridge was only one city. I had set out to see the world, not just a place I could behold the entirety of from a single vantage point. Even if I somehow exhausted all this city had to offer, I knew there would be more.

My mane fluttered in the breeze, and for an entire moment, nothing happened to ruin my mood. I almost felt like I could fly.

A hiss behind me marked the train departing. I glanced over my shoulder just in case, and noticed a passing stallion tip his hat at me.

Huh. Not that I had done much looking, but a week later I had yet to figure out what that was about.

Maybe... Maybe I should hold onto this feeling, though. Jamjars wanted me to get myself employed and do something useful with my time. My friends didn't seem to have a terrible aversion to the idea, but I didn't have a terrible attraction to it, and now that I suddenly felt so hopeful and excited about the future I realized submitting heavily-embellished resumes, practicing for interviews and dealing with dangerous power brokers like Egdelwonk clearly wasn't making me happy. If it did make me feel like this, this wouldn't feel so special, now.

Maybe I should kick that idea to he curb, apologize to Jamjars but not back down, and do what I wanted for a change. After all, Mother had raised me to more or less take care of myself. And as much anxiety as I used to have about putting myself in situations where my actions could have consequences, it had clearly been diminished by all my bad experiences with putting myself at someone else's mercy.

I could do this! I smiled, making up my mind.

Now, there was just one more problem: where in this giant city did I actually want to go?

With no goals or obligations, I decided to just let my hooves carry me and see where I wound up.

---

Before too long, I found myself back in the familiar hall of Eaststone Mall. Not because I wanted to go shopping - all my money was back at Jamjars' - but because the heat made me thirsty, and this was a place I knew to have water fountains.

I found what I was looking for in a wall alcove between a billboard for public announcements and a jewelry store, next to a maintenance closet and some restrooms. After drinking deeply, I wiped my lips, turning my attention to the billboard to see what the locals had to say to each other.

Help wanted: Rocktail's arms surplus shop. No Sky Districters!

I scratched my head. Sky District? I remembered Gerardo saying that one was sparsely populated, but what would someone have against it? Apparently, there really were some inter-district tensions in this city...

Pirate King Rhodallis strikes again at Varsidelian border: read all about it in the Nightly Times!

A pirate king, huh? For a moment, something about that tugged at my memory, and then I remembered: Leif and Rondo had mentioned getting in good with Cold Karma by helping protect some of their assets from sky pirates. I had no reason to trust them, but no reason to suspect that part of their story, either. Maybe Ironridge really did have a pirate problem.

Public Service Announcement: per city ordinance 503992, heterosexual sarosian couples are entitled to 350 green quads upon registering a marriage in city records. Further tax credits for foals may also apply! Remember: only you can help rebuild endangered populations! This message paid for by the Division of Societal Planning.

Now that was interesting. Cold Karma was paying batponies to have kids? I wasn't sure if that was noble and high-minded, given the state of my race, or sort of weird given how personal that was supposed to be. Maybe both. Either way, it wasn't an insignificant amount of money. I had no idea how Ironridge's economy compared to Icereach's, but my home at least saw Ironridge's currency, and green quads were a fairly high denomination. The research grant Corsica and I got after the Aldebaran incident only totaled about a hundred of them.

...Also, wasn't that the branch Lilith was in charge of? One more connection to build out my picture of Cold Karma...

Missing pony: have you seen this mare?

I scanned the photograph, but no, I couldn't say that I had. The mare in question - almost more of a filly than a mare - looked plenty strong-willed and rebellious. Probably a runaway, then.

In a sense, I was a runaway too. I nodded briefly in respect, and wished her the best.

REPENT.

Okay...

A tapping stole my attention, and I looked up to see a unicorn stallion perhaps five years my senior adding another poster to the board. When he saw me looking, he tipped his hat with his aura and gave me a cheery wink.

Alright, enough was enough. Time to see what this was all about.

"Hey there," I greeted with a nod. "Dig the hat."

He nodded back with a white, toothy smile. "Thanks! Got it at a small outlet in Mosstower. In the market yourself?"

Mosstower. A new name I didn't know; better file that away... "Nah," I said with a good-natured shrug. "Just in the business of appreciating fashion when I see it."

The stallion chuckled lightly. "A good business to be in! Mind if I ask where you got your own clothes? Full-body garb like that is heavy with class."

"Gift from a friend," I admitted, sizing this pony up. He looked smart and respectable, yet without any haughtiness or arrogance that suggested he belonged to a snooty upper class. Lots of savvy, no malice. That was a dangerous combination: this was a pony you would subconsciously want to make yourself look good by agreeing with. And he pulled it off with such a strong degree I was almost certain he was doing it on purpose. What had he posted? It looked like an announcement for a rally of some sort, but I couldn't stare at it without being conspicuous.

"I see." He nodded deeply. "You must walk in high circles, then. It's heartening to know that at least some of our city's sarosians have escaped from the morass of public opinion. I wish you well, friend."

"Morass of public opinion?" I asked, suspecting he was about to turn away. "Most of the folks I run into have been unfailingly polite."

The stallion looked proud. "New to the city, perhaps? We've certainly worked hard and changed a lot in the past few years, and I'm glad it's gotten to a point where that can be someone's experience. Though it wouldn't be change if there wasn't a past we were moving away from."

"New around here? Is it that obvious?" I chuckled, doing my best to live up to the high-class demeanor he had ascribed to me.

He shook his head. "Activists like me have seen a lot of ponies from all walks of life. But live in the same city for long enough, and some experiences will be shared. Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but... what do you think of ponies who are less fortunate than yourself?"

Ponies who were less fortunate than me? Probably that they would all be dead, given how many miracles it took to survive such a spate of misfortune during the Aldebaran incident... But I didn't say that, because this stallion had crafted his own mask of assumptions about me, and I was going to wear it to keep him happily talking until he had told me what I wanted to know.

"Eh, they're alright," I said noncommittally, suspecting he was fishing for someone he could sway to his point of view. "Why?"

"A burden shared is a burden lessened," the stallion explained, extending a hoof. "The name's Kuiper. I volunteer with an organization called the Zero Armada - maybe you've heard of us, it's on the poster - that does outreach work for the oppressed sarosian minority, and also to help the ponies who oppress them learn to walk a better path in life. Now, I don't want to presume anything about how difficult your life has been, but there are always those who are less fortunate than ourselves, and sometimes, all we have to do is try to find out there's more we can carry! We try to take the weight off the shoulders of those who have too much, offer cathartic healing toward the rift between oppressed and oppressor, and give our utmost to make tomorrow a fairer and more equal future!"

He coughed into his forehoof, then giggled uncertainly. "Err, stump speech. Sorry if I got a little preachy, there. The point is, if you're having a good time in Ironridge, odds are high it's thanks to our work. Not to toot our own horns, but just as an invitation if you've ever wanted to pay it forward."

Sure is a long-winded invitation, I thought but didn't say. Although, assuming he was telling the truth, this could be a useful way to learn about the societal forces at play in Ironridge... Forces I could probably find dozens of pragmatic reasons to learn about, but mostly just wanted to understand because I was curious.

"Alright," I replied, bumping his offered hoof. "I'm pretty busy and not always free, but I might come learn more. Where's your group located?"

Kuiper's eyes brightened. "We have daily meetings in the Old Blueleaf Mana Reactor whenever we're not staging rallies around the city. Mostly in the Night District, though. I'm going to guess you haven't frequented the Night District?"

I shook my head. "Anything I should know?"

"First, leave the clothes," Kuiper instructed. "I know, I know, sensibilities must not be offended, but if you're hobnobbing with lower-class ponies, there's no need to display your wealth. Also, you'll probably pass out if you try to wear that down there without being very acclimated to the heat. Second, it's usually a dawn-to-dusk affair, since you can't, you know, go outside in the Night District during the day. So, be prepared to spend the day! Third, if you don't know the way, buy a map. I know paying local tour guides helps the economy and those in need, but I really wouldn't want it on my hooves if you get kidnapped or something and your parents come to call."

"Kidnapped?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a thing that happens regularly?"

Kuiper raised an eyebrow at me. "There's a reason social outreach is a noble calling rather than a thing expected of each and every pony. It might shock you to see it, but being lower down on the ladder isn't pretty. The last thing the Zero Armada is about is helping rich ponies feel good about themselves." He shook his head. "Or maybe you've come from Varsidel and know all about it, and just haven't shaken the image of Ironridge as a shining city on a hill. Even though we're technically in a crater..."

"Yeah. Noted. Never mind." I was still thinking about the fact that the Day District at night was already at the upper limit of my heat tolerance threshold. Unclothing myself was not going to happen, but the consequences of going down to the valley floor without doing so would probably be dire.

"Anyway, I best be off!" Kuiper tipped his hat again, conspicuously shuffling a stack of posters he was carrying. "Gotta finish my rounds for promoting tomorrow night's rally. By the way, did I ever get your name?"

"Nope." I sent him off with a wink of my own. "I guess it'll just give you something to look forward to if we run into each other again."

Kuiper took off with a spring in his step. Moments later, I was once again alone in a crowd.

I took... whatever personality I had been wearing for that off, and became good old regular masked Halcyon again. Part of me felt like it should feel a lot weirder than it did to put on an act like that, and say things that the normal me would never be caught dead uttering. And yet, this was my talent, and doing it felt about as natural as could be. In fact, it almost felt good, like I was putting an extra barrier between myself and someone I had no reason yet to trust.

The me that had talked to Kuiper could trust him. The me that I was now could assume he was a cad. All the mental health benefits of not having to assume the worst of everyone I met, while also staying safe from a pony who was probably very good at getting others to do what he wanted? I'll take it. And the best part was, he was apparently a recruiter for an open string of events, so if I did want to check it out it would be very easy to go home, dye my coat and switch up my manestyle, then pick up a false name and a pair of colored contact lenses, and attend as someone completely anonymous and unrelated to me.

Exploring the world like this was fun!

Now... time to do it some more.

---

Ironridge's train system, I soon discovered, was shaped like a spoked wheel. Several lines ran around the curvature of the Day District at varying elevations along the mountainside, but there were also a number of trains that went straight from the ring to the center of the Night District, low enough down that they cut beneath the ground even there, at the bottom of the valley. An impressively long set of escalators linked the stations where they vertically crossed, which meant you could make it from the Day District to any station in the Night District without leaving the air-conditioned underground.

I knew about this from looking at train maps and then from doing it, and now I stood at a surface exit to the central terminal - a city-within-a-city called Grand Acorn, which I was fairly sure housed the silvery tower I had seen earlier - pondering what to do about the heat.

Ponies kept shooting me dubious glances here, much more so than I usually received in the Day District. And probably with good reason, because most of the ponies entering the station visibly sagged in relief upon hitting the air-conditioned air, and all the ones leaving girded themselves for an ordeal. Hats were common here, but even collars were rare, and no one wore anything else except the absolute thinnest of open-front, sleeveless vests. And then there was me, all dressed up like a comic book superhero, showing no fur save for my face.

Tendrils of hot air licked in at me, the subway entrance shielded from the outdoors by two sets of revolving doors. I stood in the lobby between them, the air already uncomfortable but nothing near what it was outside, and steeled myself for another try. Maybe by now, I'd have acclimated a little better?

I stepped through the revolving door during a lull in foot traffic, when there were fewer ponies to see if I made a fool of myself. Instantly, my coat became a shield against the heat, though I could tell it was about five seconds away from becoming a liability as blazing air wrapped around my head and tail, slipped through the seams in my collar, and nearly paralyzed me as my body instinctively tried to stop moving and generate as little heat as possible.

Just... ride the heat. Don't try to fight it. Focus only on moving where you had to move, right? I wasn't sure if that was advice I had ever been given, but as my mind started to swim, it sure sounded sensible enough. My throat was already dry, even though the Night District wasn't particularly arid. Large floodlights lit the plaza I was on the edge of, probably not helping with the heat. Or maybe that was my imagination.

I lasted seventeen seconds by my own delirious counting, before stumbling back into the station, knowing that it would be a bad idea to push myself so hard I ended up like Corsica and passed out out there. Moments later, I was hydrated and resting on a bench in the cool interior, my cheeks flushed and my fur sweaty. I felt... wobbly. That was the last time I could try this tonight.

How did everyone else manage it? They didn't make it look easy, not at all, I decided, following the ponies walking back and forth with my head held low. But still... Was it experience? Genetics? Just them not wearing clothes?

I wasn't about to accept the latter, because that meant I wouldn't be able to visit this district without doffing my garb. Genetics seemed like a likelier explanation - look at Corsica, after all. And yet, if the temperature had risen as fast as Gerardo made it out to, what population would have time to adapt? Besides, I was from the Griffon Empire, not icy Yakyakistan. The only option I was left with was experience.

Which meant I'd just have to learn how to take the heat in stride.

I glowered at the night air, feeling a little steadier but still drained. Maybe my talent could help with this, if it was purely a matter of learning? I'd still need someone to learn from, and to understand how they did it. But for now, I had to watch out for my health and retreat.

---

The train clattered along its underground tracks, carrying me back toward the Day District as I slumped against a seat, thinking. At this point, Kuiper and his organization were far from my primary interest, and had been replaced by another, much worthier goal: there was a place that didn't want me in it, and I took that as a challenge.

It was a particularly appealing challenge because the weather was an equal-opportunity villain that couldn't possibly have anything against me in particular, which meant that my own unusually wild luck had nothing to do with whether or not I succeeded. The next night, or maybe the night after, I would come back and try it again, or maybe go find a library and read about how ponies acclimated to heat, a subject that was nowhere to be found in Icereach due to its complete lack of necessity.

Not like this was an important goal, of course. It was just one I got to choose, as opposed to escaping from Aldebaran or getting hired.

I glanced around the train, wondering if an inevitable problem would rear its head to sidetrack me, like the train being held up by a militia or the tunnel collapsing. What would militias around here skirmish over, anyway? In Icereach, most everyone had seen eye to eye, or else kept their head down or just went away. Experience told me Ironridge should be the same, but common sense insisted it would be different. What kinds of things did ponies here disagree on? What did they care about? What were they afraid of?

Some of the train's passengers seemed drawn into themselves, as if they didn't want to interact with anything. Some were reading. Two were making out. We stopped at a stop, and a stallion almost sat by me, then gave me a proper look, blinked, and pretended to be innocuous as he went to sit somewhere else.

Well, it didn't seem so improbable that opinions on batponies were an issue.

---

The Day District almost felt cool after what I'd felt down below, though it was still much hotter than the air-conditioned underground and I was still worn out from pushing myself, so I quickly took shelter in the open-air lobby of a fancy business building that seemed to want pedestrians to come in and admire how wealthy it was.

Several newspaper racks sat against a wall, and looked free. One of them caught my eye, and I picked it up: the front page was dedicated to that pirate king I had seen mentioned on the bulletin board. Maybe this would be interesting?

I seated myself and began to read, and things I had sort of always known about the world's geopolitical state came into much greater clarity. Yakyakistan and Ironridge had an alliance, and both of them were bordered by the Aldenfold, the apparent edge of the world. Icereach was in between them. North of Ironridge was the failed nation of Varsidel, and on the Varsidel-Yakyakistan border far to the north of Icereach, there was a citadel called Fortress Anemo. Backed by Yakyakistani hooves and Ironridge technology, Anemo was a kingpin of the alliance's military strategy, and the base of air power that let them keep the route between Ironridge and Yakyakistan safe.

Ironridge, being a city-state, didn't have a lot of territory with hooves on it. Most of its actual national space was airspace, a bubble to the north and east situated above uninhabitable badland that was too rough for any commercial building. So Ironridge could defend its interests and trade routes close to home, and far to the northwest using Anemo. But the farther north or east you went, the more that dominance waned... and at some point, there was a very unofficial border based on who could sneak what past increasingly sparse patrols.

Pirate King Rhodallis was an anomaly because while most illegal air activity was based around smuggling goods or else attacking merchants, he and his crew exclusively hunted military patrols. He only attacked Ironridge patrols, never ones flown out of Anemo, despite being in the area where the two were equally common, and he always subdued his target. And most strikingly, he never took a life once a ship had been boarded. Once it was abundantly clear that he was in control, he and his crew would release the patrol ship and all prisoners and simply fly away, without a care in the world.

I pieced most of this together from the column's speculation and analysis, but the writer was obviously more concerned with his motives. Those were apparently unknown, but the effects were clear: it had an incredibly demoralizing effect on the border patrol, made the authorities look incompetent and was a prime catalyst for unrest at home. Many of Cold Karma's detractors, the column noted, cited Rhodallis' track record near the top of their arguments against the company, though it was quick to point out the detractors probably wouldn't fare that well against pirates either.

Interesting. Now I was even more curious about Aldebaran's supposed history defending Cold Karma from pirates. I finished the column, picked another and kept reading.

---

Hours ticked by, and I read the entire paper front to back, driven by curiosity and a fantastic feeling of illumination about finally knowing what was going on in the world. It was more like a sequence of randomly-chosen deep dives on individual happenings than a cursory picture of the city as a whole, but I still began to get a clearer image of all the things Ironridgians cared about. Number one was the weather, which hung over the city like a pall even though no one understood why it was happening and thus no one could find a long-term solution. Number two were a pair of places called Sosa and the Steel District, which I suspected might be the same thing and couldn't tell whether they used to exist or were planned to be built in the future. Everyone seemed to have strong feelings about those.

Not mentioned anywhere at all were batponies. That made me a little worried.

Maybe a different paper would think we were worth writing about? I tucked the one I had just finished into a deep pocket in my coat in case I wanted to revisit it for some reason, and had just picked up an issue from a different outlet when my stomach reminded me of two things: I hadn't gotten breakfast before going to see Egdelwonk, and I had been out here for hours. Also, I hadn't exactly remembered to bring money.

Good thing I could read this anywhere. I stashed the paper and stretched, ready to get back home.

---

Hunger prevented me from feeling too proud of myself on the last legs of my trip back to the Ice District, which was especially annoying as I had problems all the time in Icereach with not paying attention to my needs until I had been working without food for an entire day, and still not learned how to do anything about it. But still, I was happy, moreso as I got closer and began to recognize my surroundings. I had gone out on my own, gone exploring, learned interesting things about the world, found some much more interesting things to do than the ones that kept getting prescribed to me, and pulled off all of it without getting kidnapped or dragged off on some bogus adventure I didn't want any part of. Maybe I was learning, maybe I had done something smart for a change, or maybe the freak incidents with the avalanche and later Aldebaran really were just bad luck. Either way, that was good for me.

No bogeys jumped out at me as I turned the final corner before Jamjars' house. I didn't fall through any grates in the floor into secret underground testing dungeons, didn't run into any sinister Cold Karma executives, never needed to be rescued, and overall felt great. Except for being hungry. Hopefully I was walking in on a meal in progress...

I rapped on the door and let myself in. "Hello?"

"Ah! There you are!" Jamjars bustled into the foyer in a cutesy apron, and suddenly I remembered I had technically run away without permission. Hopefully that wasn't where all this turned around.

"Sorry I up and disappeared," I explained, trying to head off any possible reprimands. "I was-"

"Taking initiative and doing what you want on your own power?" Jamjars ruffled my mane with her telekinesis. "Atta girl! Any fallout I need to clean up, or are you good?"

I blinked, not at all expecting that. "I, err... wasn't looking to get in trouble..."

"Of course you weren't," Jamjars said. "Ponies rarely look to get in trouble, but it often happens anyway. Anyway, dinner's around thirty minutes away. Go wash up, you look like you've been out in the heat too long. And hopefully you didn't care too much about that stuff you sent back with Kitty; her fee for being a courier is that half of it is now hers. La la la la..."

---

Moments later, I was at the table, reasonably clean, and trying to let my hunger distract me from the fact that Kitty was wearing a shirt with Egdelwonk's face on it over top of her usual gamer hoodie. Predictably, she saw no problem with this.

"Don't tell me where you go shopping for clothes," Ansel mumbled, his head in his hooves. "I don't know who or what that's supposed to be, but please never tell me?"

Kitty stuck her tongue out. "Okay!"

Well, I almost forgot I was supposed to be looking for it, but there was my proof that I wasn't the only one who had mysteriously 'forgotten' our first visit to the dumpster despot on that first day. Not like it was any of my concern now. I had firmly turned him down, so-

The door banged open. "I'm back!" Corsica called, stepping in.

"Just in time!" Jamjars sang, clearly in a good mood. "Dinner's up! Come and stuff your faces!"

"Can't wait," Corsica mumbled as she dumped her stuff in the foyer, sounding more upbeat than usual as well... though Jamjars was regularly cheerful, and Corsica had seemed to be under a little less pressure with each passing day. "I'm sure you'll be proud of me today."

"Oh?" Jamjars raised an eyebrow, floating out a platter of grilled veggies.

"Yup. Got hired," Corsica said, tromping out into the living room where the table was set. "Might just be a temporary thing while I look for something more glamorous, but money, here comes me! Anyone else have..." She stopped, blinking, looking at Kitty with a frown.

Kitty stared back at her. "Hiya, lady!"

Corsica squinted and tilted her head. "Why are you wearing a shirt of my new boss?"

Comments

[KMCA]

Corsica squinted and tilted her head. "Why are you wearing a shirt of my new boss?"

Egdelwonk you little shit. Nice move.

[PropsValroa]

I have no doubt the Pirates will be a thing in the future, too. Interesting to see how everything's changed a bit. Where's Shinespark?

[RoboRed]

...You whaaaaaaaaat?

[Venlinelle]

Discord, what are you doing.