Fall of the Alicorns

by Rara

02- Pirouettes and Porpoises

Disclaimer: CC Cover art and all written material within is intellectual property of user Persianjuliet, and may not be used without consent of the author.

My Little Pony and all related characters are property of Hasbro and Lauren Faust.

Song: Not Invincible by Something Like Tuesday

We flew at a steady pace, just below the cloud level. Our wings beat in time, creating a rhythmic thump. The sound of our wingbeats and the rush of air, cold against our faces, drowned out all other sounds. In order to hear each other, we flew as close as our wingspans would allow and raised our voices until we were almost shouting.

Low Tide was talkative to the point of being garrulous. His constant flow of conversation prompted me to break my silence, and before an hour had passed I found myself chattering as much as he was. I was a naturally talkative pony, but rarely found an opportunity to engage in conversation without feeling self-conscious about my abnormality. Despite myself, my spirits were lifted, and I found myself confiding in Low my worries about our arrival in the capitol.

“I know I’m much too old to still be a blank flank- everypony seems to think that I just need to apply myself more. But I’ve tried everything, and I’m still like this. I don’t know what they’re going to think of me in the city. I bet everypony will stare at me,” I added gloomily. “And what if it turns out I’m not good at anything? Will I stay like this forever?”

Low Tide’s messy forelock fell into his eyes, and he tossed his head. “You’re worrying too much. Even if the scholars don’t know what to do about it, you can bet the King and Queen will be able to find a way to get you your Cutie Mark. They’re the wisest and most magical ponies in the world.”

I said nothing. His confident words, echoing what my parents had told me, didn’t do much to allay my fear. Noticing my reaction, he added “And no one will notice you’re a blank flank if you wear a dress and keep your wings folded.”

I sighed heavily. “I thought of that, but I don’t really have any dresses- nothing that would be passable for the city.”

He smiled widely, chuckling into the cold wind. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I have a friend in the city who would be more than happy to take you shopping.”

“Who?”

“Her name’s Pirouette. She’s a city pony- cosmopolitan and stylish- but she’s also very sweet and sensitive. I’m sure you’ll like her.”

His voice had taken on a strange dreamy tone. I stole a glance at him. His eyes were glazed, and not from the wind. A faint smile flickered across his lips. I grinned.

“Is Pirouette your very special somepony?”

Startled, he missed a beat and dropped a few feet in the air. Flapping to regain his place, he gasped, “Did High tell you?”

High Tide was Low’s older sister. The only fisherpony with more natural talent than Low, she had married a few years before and settled down. They were infamous in town for their exploits as foals- she had always been the ringleader. Old ponies in the town still talked about the time High Tide convinced her brother to drape himself in seaweed and stand on her shoulders so they could pretend to be a sea monster and scare passers-by.

I shook my head, giggling at his miss-flight. “No, High never said anything like that. You’re just not very good at hiding it.”

He shrugged, obviously embarrassed. “I suppose not. High found out right away, but promised not to tell. I just don’t want folks talking about it. I see her every time I visit the capitol. She’s… absolutely wonderful.”

“How did you meet her?”

“Well, you know that I take trips there as the head of the Coastal Fisherponies group?”

“Yes.”

“The first time I ever visited the city, I got- well, I got lost.”

I tittered, and he blushed. “Well, it’s a big city for a small-town pony! You’ll see when we get there. Anyway, I wandered into the uptown shopping district, where all the rich ponies go. There I was, a ragged-looking colt smelling like seawater, and when I turned a corner I bumped right into her. She was toting a ton of shopping bags full of expensive clothes and mare-things- makeup and such- and they scattered all over the street. I helped her pick them up, apologizing the whole time, but she was very kind about it. She said she had never met anypony like me before, which I’m sure is true. We began talking and meeting for coffee, and- well, the rest is history. That happened more than two years ago.”

“That’s a great story,” I exclaimed. I was charmed by the romance of it. Nothing romantic ever happened in Branbury. “Are you two going to get married?”

The smile faded from his face, and he looked troubled. “I don’t know, Wide Eyes. We’ve talked about it, but she’s a city pony through and through. She has a life and a career in the capitol; she’s one of the lead dancers in the Royal Ballet. My life and business is the ocean; it always will be. She could never move away, and neither could I. She knows that.”

“I’m sorry.” I said quietly. He shrugged. We flew on in silence.

Our set course, Low had explained, would take us just to the north of the sprawling Unicorn Range of mountains- so named for the startling regularity and neatness that so made them resemble the distinguishing feature of unicorns (one which alicorns shared, of course). The Canter River wound through the mountains, connecting the sea to Canterlot. As we got nearer to Canterlot, the mountains would dwindle into rolling hills, according to Low’s map. Three day’s flight, and we would be there.

I was used to living surrounded by mountains on one side, with the vast and endless ocean on the other. My home was among the valleys and the evergreens, and this trip was daunting. Every time I remembered the image of the city-mountain of Canterlot, stamped on the map as clear and stark as a hoofprint, I shuddered.

As the sun was setting, we passed over the great, slow-moving Canter River. We were a good ways inland by that time, and the absence of the ocean from my immediate sight was disturbing and unfamiliar. It bothered Low Tide too, I could tell. I felt bad about him and Pirouette, but what could I do? Low was right; they could never be together. Yet it bothered me, and the problem was forefront in my mind when Low disappeared from my side.

I whipped my head about for a moment, frantically looking for him, when I spotted him below me. He was diving down toward the vast, sluggish spread of the Canter below us, and I followed, calling out. I wasn’t angry at his strange and sudden action, only bewildered and a little curious. By the time I caught up to him, he had leveled out and was skimming the surface of the water. “What in the name of Golden Horn are you doing, Low?”

“Watch this,” he called enigmatically. Irritated yet intrigued, I hovered. I watched as he dipped one trailing hoof into the water and flew in a looping pattern.

“That’s very pretty, but what-”

“Shh!”

In an instant, I saw what he was talking about. Only inches away from my perilously positioned cousin, a large dark shape rocketed out of the water and flipped over, to land again with a great splash.

“Holy Harmony!” I gasped. “What in the world was that?”

“That, my kelp-brained little cousin, was a river porpoise.” He was grinning, smug with his own cleverness and pleased with the obvious amazement on my face. He laughed at my expression. “You should see yourself. Your eyes are so big, you look like a yellow-and-brown owl.”

I tossed my brunette mane, choosing to ignore his comment. “I was just surprised. Can you get them to come to the surface?”

“Sure,” He shrugged. “They’re a lot friendlier with ponies than ocean dolphins. Just do what I did.”

Cautiously, I dipped one hoof in the water and traced a slow circle. Almost immediately, a nose poked up beneath me, and a curious eye met mine. I smiled. “Hello there,” I whispered, afraid of scaring it away. “I’m Wide Eyes. “

The porpoise clicked in what I took to be a greeting and rolled onto its side. It was bigger than I was, and its hairless hide was smooth and gray. I tentatively stroked it with one hoof. It felt slick and impossibly warm, even in the autumn-cool water. “You don’t have a Cutie Mark either, huh?” I murmured. “Lucky you, not having to worry about it. I wish I were a porpoise.”

His only answer was a high-pitched series of rapid clicks and squeaks. I sighed. “I wish I at least had a porpoise- I mean, purpose.”

The friendly water creature gave me no answer, so I rubbed his belly until he grew tired of the amusement and dove back into his watery home. Low Tide’s porpoise, which he had enticed back to the surface, followed, but not without a spray of water from its blowhole that soaked my unfortunate cousin from nose to dock.

I guffawed at the sight of a furious Low Tide, flapping his way to the shore on soggy wings. “I think that means it likes you!”

His only reply was a string of invectives thrown over his shoulder.

Comments

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Your place names could use some work. Try coming up with puns! That's what the actual creators do. Love the characters, though.