Book 1 - The Behemoth came to Canterlot

by Equimorto

Ad Astra

Stone Brick laid down his pillow at the edge of the cliff and then sat on it, looking down at the wasteland hundreds of metres below as he sipped from the bowl of soup in his hooves. It was mostly dark grey, down there, with some red in places. The path a river had used to run through was still visible, but the water was all gone, and all that was left of the trees in the area were a few charred stumps and consumed branches.

He was no expert in geology, but as far as he understood it, the place must have always had all that lava beneath it. The Behemoth's arrival had just moved things enough for it to come out. Either the chunk of land he was on had risen or the one in front of him had sunk, and then all that molten rock and liquid fire had bubbled up from the ground and burnt almost everything that was left down there.

There were still a few lava pools, scattered around. They looked rather pretty from up above, he had to admit. And they weren't the only thing there, apparently, which was why he was staring at the scenery. Well, that, and the fact he had nothing better to stare at. The trees behind him were rather monotonous, and his tent wasn't exactly a sight to behold. Plus, he'd get to see the sunset too.

Just as he was taking another sip of his soup, it happened. With a sound halfway between a hiss and a splash, a tall jet of water shot up from the ground far below, and then crashed back down. So it was true. He'd heard about such a thing in some parks across Equestria, back when he was a colt, but he'd never actually seen one. So they really were a thing there too, now.

That was good to know. At least he hadn't taken that deviation for nothing. Not that it would have particularly mattered, actually, the path that passed from there was just as long as the other and seeing the lava pools alone would still have been interesting, but he was still glad he got that on top. Finishing his soup, he kept staring, and soon enough a second jet shot up some distance from the first.

He sat there, watching the Sun go down past the horizon as a few other geysers occasionally went off, then got back to his hooves and took the pillow back to his tent. The night would get cold there, and it was probably for the best if he got inside quick. Not too cold, maybe, but still unpleasant, and besides he had to get up early in the morning. Closing the entrance, he sat inside.

The road to Ponyville wouldn't cover itself, he reminded himself as he stared at his map. It would still take him a couple of days at least to get there, provided everything went well. But he did have supplies for about twice as much, just in case. Lying his head on the pillow, he took a long look at the scale he'd left tucked in a corner of the tent, then closed his eyes. He'd get there soon enough. He just needed to keep going.

Comments

[FanOfMostEverything]

Everything from geography to chemical behavior changed in the wake of the Behemoth. It's staggering to consider the sheer scope of the devastation.