The ruins of Las Pegasus

by Peace Petal

Chapter Two

I looked around, trying to orient myself in the town. I recognized a shop at the corner of the block. I turned in the direction of the Crystal Tea Room and started at a gentle walk. I felt like steam was coming off my body, and my legs were stiff. Eventually I arrived at the Crystal Tea Room. Dim lighting, a poet reciting with chill drums, and the fragrance of tea. Yes, this was a good place to relax and eat lunch.

I walked to the counter and waved a wing at the shop owner, Alphabittle. “Do you have lemon verbena?” I said.

“Of course,” Alphabittle said. “Welcome back, Peace. I like your scarf. Is it new?”

“Yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” I said. “Can you do iced lemon verbena? No milk, no honey.”

“Coming up,” Alphabittle said. I looked around for an empty table, but a pony caught my eye. A unicorn mare with a bay coat and gray mane, sitting by herself, muzzle in a book. It was Dust, the librarian.

I walked up to her table and said, “Hey, Dust. I’ve never seen you here before. Unless I have, and I forgot.”

“Huh?” Dust said, placing a bookmark and looking up. “What’s up, Peace?”

“Can I sit here?” I said.

“Why not?” Dust said. I sat on the low cushion next to the table. “What got you perspiring? Were you galloping?” I remembered that she had a funny way of talking. It sounded like her mouth was half-closed when she spoke, and she almost always spoke in questions, even when answering a question.

“Flying, actually,” I said. “I came here from Zephyr Heights.”

“How long did that take you?” Dust asked.

I reached into my saddlebag and found my watch. I wasn’t sure how long it took to walk to the Crystal Tea Room, so I had to guess. “About six hours,” I said. I took off the compass around my fetlock and put it in the bag.

“What are you doing in Bridlewood Forest?” Dust asked. “Didn’t you finish your research here?”

“Just visiting,” I said. “I’ll fly back to Zephyr Heights tomorrow.”

Dust took a sip of tea. Alphabittle showed up with my cup. “Oh, I forgot to bring unicorn bits,” I said. “Do you have change for an emerald?”

“We’ve actually started taking pegasus bits,” Alphabittle said. “It’ll be 2.50, if you want to pay that way.” I did the math in my head. At a standard exchange rate, the tea’s price in pegasus bits was higher than its price in unicorn bits. But it wasn’t higher than the percentage the bank took out to convert bits to gemstones. I muzzled around in my saddlebag and found two bits and a 50ȼ coin. The coins in my mouth lit up as Alphabittle levitated them away. “Enjoy your tea,” Alphabittle said, walking away.

“Thank you,” I said, taking a sip. I retrieved my lunch from my saddlebag: a cucumber and daisy sandwich, an apple, and assorted nuts. I started eating, occasionally sipping some tea.

“What are you up to while you’re here?” Dust asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I can stick around until about noon tomorrow. But I didn’t make any plans because I didn’t know how long the flight would take.”

Dust’s green eyes looked right into mine and she said, “Will you please help me?”

The way she said it made me a little nervous. “I’d love to help you, Dust,” I said. “I haven’t forgotten how you helped me get on track with my research after I lost my memories. And I still have the notebook you bought me, right here in this saddlebag.”

“You’re an… outdoorsy pony, right?” Dust said.

“I just flew from ZH to Bridlewood,” I said. “So I’ll accept that adjective.”

“Will you go on a hike with me?” Dust said. She looked around and lowered her voice. “Is it normal for ponies to abhor going outside so much that shopping for groceries is frightening? How do I even commence in dealing with this problem? Do you think if you helped me see the splendor of nature I’d be able to tolerate it more? I need somepony to go with me, because who knows what could go wrong? How do you even… prepare for a hike? Could I break a leg? Do you know how difficult it is to heal a fractured leg? Will I get melanoma from UV radiation? Will I get EIA from a horse fly?” Her speaking and breathing were accelerating. “What if I—”

“Slow down,” I said firmly. “Nature isn’t all that dangerous, especially if you know what you’re doing. I’ll gladly go on a hike with you, and I promise nothing bad will happen.”

“How can you promise that?” Dust said.

“We won’t do anything risky,” I said. “We’ll be in no more danger than we are here. Yes, somepony in here could be a serial killer who’s about to throw fire spells around. But I’m reasonably confident that it won’t happen.”

“What do we need to do to get ready?” Dust asked.

“First we should pick out a trail to hike,” I said.

“Does this work?” Dust said. She levitated a paper that was shoved into her book and unfolded it. It was nearly as big as the table. She ran a highlighter on part of it and passed it to me. It was a detailed map of hiking trails around Bridlewood Forest with one trail highlighted. I took a look at the contour lines and the scale of the map. By my standards, this was an easy hike. But it was always hard for me to remember how far a pony who never hiked could go.

“There are easier hikes around,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want to start with something smaller?”

“With you around, isn’t this my opportunity to try something ambitious?” Dust said. “Anyway, would little hikes really help me? Is that different from the promenades around town that I’ve already started doing?”

“Alright,” I said. “It’s not really a hard hike, either. I believe that you can do it.”

“What else do we need to get ready?” Dust asked. I munched on my apple.

“Some trail food,” I said. “You’ll need a hydration pack, and we’ll want some iodine tablets. Insect repellant. You’ll want some sunscreen for the white splotch on your face.”

“Do you mind if I buy all that for both of us?” Dust said.

“Um, that’s very generous of you,” I said. “Oh, one more thing we need. Horseshoes.”

“I have some leather shoes,” Dust said. “Do you want to see them and tell me if they’re the right kind?”

“Not leather shoes,” I said. “Horseshoes.”

“Wait, like… nails?” Dust said.

“Yeah,” I said. “Dirt and rocks will get inside normal shoes, and they’ll just slip off. If you were more used to hiking, maybe you wouldn’t need horseshoes for a hike this length. But for you, they’ll be an absolute necessity. I’ll get them too, so you don’t have to do it alone.”

“But… won’t it hurt?” Her voice was trembling. “How do I ever take them off?”

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” I said. “I’ve gotten them before. They can pull the nails out afterwards, and eventually the hoof will grow back until the nail prints are totally gone. Alternatively, you can just leave the horseshoe in if you want to go hiking some more later on. They’re not uncomfortable at all. I would recommend replacing them after a month or two, though, so you can file your hooves to keep them from getting too long or uneven.”

“Do I have to?” Dust said.

“If you want to hike this trail, definitely,” I said.

Dust slammed her head on the table and groaned. “Will you come with me to the farrier?” she said.

“Of course,” I said. I finished my sandwich. “Do you want to do that first and get it over with?”

Dust groaned again as she folded the map away and put the book in her saddlebag. “I don’t suppose you have any recommendations for the best farrier in Bridlewood Forest?”

“If I went to a farrier here, it was before the memory wipe,” I said.

Dust sighed and trotted towards the door. I downed what was left of my tea and followed her. She froze at the door for a moment before stepping out into the sunlight. I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. She cringed in the sunlight, looking down. She stepped gingerly, like she didn’t want to get dirt on her hooves. Overall, she was a sorry sight. But she started walking, and I followed. “Do you have somewhere to stay overnight?” Dust said quietly.

“I, uh… when are we doing the hike?” I said. “By the time we’re done getting all the stuff we need, it will be too late to start and get back before dark, unless you’re unusually fast. So I think we’d be best starting tomorrow after I attend church.”

“Didn’t you need to fly back to Zephyr Heights tomorrow?” Dust said.

“Well…” Plans ran through my head. I wanted to get back to ZH tomorrow night. The day after was a holiday, but I wanted the day to get some work done on my plant id book. But I could probably get that work done in half a day if I stayed focus and maybe lost some sleep. Dust really needed my help, and I owed it to her. “I can delay my plans by half a day. We hike tomorrow, take it nice and slow, and the day after I take off at first light. So yes, I need somewhere to sleep for two nights.”

“Would you like to stay at my place?” Dust said.

“Um, if you’re okay with it,” I said. “As long as we’re not sharing the same bed.”

“Well, uh, would you rather share a bed or sleep on the floor?” Dust said. “I don’t have a couch or anything, you know?”

“I’m fine on the floor,” I said. “It’s really no problem. Thank you. I don’t think I have enough with me to pay for two nights in the hotel.”

Dust stopped at a building labeled “Crystal Hoof.” She darted inside the door, and the tension in her body released. “Hello, what can I do for you?” the mare at the desk said as I came inside.

“We need horseshoes fitted,” I said.

“Great, we can definitely do that for you,” the mare said cheerily. “Steel or aluminum?”

“Aluminum, please,” I said. “Something suitable for hiking.”

“Alrighty,” the mare said. She used magic to open a drawer in the desk. She levitated out an aluminum horseshoe. “How does this look? It’ll be twenty bits for the four shoes, plus five for the service of trimming and fitting.”

I looked closer. They seemed like good horseshoes. I wasn’t quite sure if that was a reasonable price in Bridlewood or not. I looked at Dust. “Does that seem alright?” I said.

She started. “Me? Uh… why not?”

“What sizes are you?” the farrier said.

“Eleven,” I said.

“Um, how about a nine?” Dust said.

“Okay then, who wants to start?” the farrier said. Dust nodded towards me, her horn pointing right at my head.

“I guess that’s me,” I said. The farrier led us back to a little workshop with a padded bench in the middle and a low tub. The farrier turned on the water in the tub.

“We’ll start by soaking your hooves to make them softer,” the farrier said. I stepped into the tub. The water was warm. “Just stand in there for fifteen minutes. Feel free to take a nap if you want. I’ll tell you when the time is up. Then you wash your hooves with the soap there, and we’ll get on to trimming.”

The farrier trotted up to the desk again. I hadn’t finished the nuts in my lunch, so I reached into my saddlebag with my muzzle and grabbed a mouthful. I fidgeted my wings and head as I waited. I was never good at waiting. Eventually, the farrier came back. “That’s time,” she said. “Wash your hooves very thoroughly. You don’t want any dirt under your shoes.”

I did so. I dried off, then I lay on the padded bench. The farrier changed the water in the tub for Dust, then she turned to me, levitating the tools she needed for trimming. “This won’t hurt a bit,” she said. She set to work, humming. “You have very nice hooves.”

“Thanks,” I said. I heard the snap of the nippers, then I felt a vague pressure as she ran the rasp to file my back left hoof. Soon enough my hooves were all trimmed and filed.

“You’re doing great so far!” the farrier said. “Here come the horseshoes. You’ll feel a little pressure with the mallet strokes, but not a bit of pain. Let’s see.” She was behind me, but I heard the distinct sound of unicorn levitation. “It’ll be a perfect fit! Ready?”

“Yep,” I said. There was the thud of a hammer and nail, and a dull pressure on my hoof. I looked over at Dust. She was standing in the tub, watching my hoof. She flinched with each hammer stroke, and she looked a little pale. “Hey, I’m fine,” I said, smiling. “You’ll be fine.”

A few minutes later, the horseshoes were all in. “Alrighty, the job is done,” the farrier said. “You’re looking great!” I stood up and walked to the corner of the room, the horseshoes thudding against the wooden floor. “Time’s up,” the farrier said, turning to Dust. “Wash up, and we’ll have you shoed in a jiffy.”

Dust seemed calm as the farrier trimmed her hooves. She probably did this somewhat regularly, like most ponies. Especially since she was rarely outside, she wouldn’t be wearing her hooves down through use. However, she started sweating as the farrier was finishing the trimming. It was hot, but it wasn’t just that.

“Don’t worry, it’s not bad at all,” the farrier said. “Quick, and no pain. As your pegasus friend will confirm, right?”

“Right,” I said.

“Hmm, I think we’ll try an 8½,” the farrier said, holding up a shoe to Dust’s hoof. “Here we go! Ready?” Dust just mumbled something. “What was that?” the farrier said.

“Just do it,” Dust moaned. The farrier started driving the nails. Dust twitched.

“Try to hold still, okay, sweet carrot?” the farrier said. She swung the hammer again, and Dust didn’t move. “Good job.” Dust was clenched up and stiff as the farrier put in the shoes. But soon enough it was over. “All done! I’ll see you at the cashier.” She trotted off.

Dust stood up. “See, there was nothing to worry about,” I said.

“Have you heard of comfort zones?” Dust said. “Do you know how far away mine is right now?”

“You asked me to help you,” I said. “This is part of it.”

Dust gingerly walked back to the front of the building. “It’s… fifty, right?” she said.

“That’s right, miss,” the farrier said. Dust counted out fifty bits.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to pay for myself?” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Dust said. She paid the bits.

“Have a nice hike, y’all!” the farrier said. Dust and I walked out of the building. Like last time, Dust seized up at the door, but she pushed through.

“She seemed unusually cheery for a unicorn,” I said.

“Are you stereotyping?” Dust said. She clicked her tongue.

“Sorry,” I said. We went around town to buy the rest of the stuff we needed. “How do the horseshoes feel?” I said.

“Um… they don’t weigh much, do they?” Dust said. “Do you just become oblivious to them after a while?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Like I said, you can leave them on for a couple of months.”

“Hmm,” Dust said. We went about buying the other supplies we’d need.

As we were buying trail food, I turned to Dust and said, “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Dust raised an incredulous eyebrow and pointed at her cutie mark, which was a white question mark. “See, that’s kind of what I wanted to ask about. Why do you always speak in questions? But then one in hundred sentences is just a sentence! Is there a story there?”

“Don’t you remember the last time you asked—oh. You’re a scientist, right? Don’t you see the value in asking questions?”

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I do for my job,” I said. “But I don’t feel the need to do it constantly in basic, daily communication. It seems a little unwieldy at times.”

“But aren’t I so adept at it?” Dust said. “Do I not make it look effortless?”

“You do it better than I could, I admit,” I said. She never seemed to hesitate before speaking. She was practiced enough that she could do it without stopping to think.

By the time we finished shopping, the sun was low in the sky. Dust looked at me and said, “Do you want to get dinner?”

“Um, sure,” I said. “But… can I pay for myself? I don’t like to be a parasite.”

“Aren’t you a symbiote?” Dust said. “Is helping me with a severe problem not worth a few bits?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I said. “It’s just, I like feeling independent. I’m twenty-four years old, and my family still kind of treats me like a foal. The hiking supplies were an extra expense, but I was going to have to eat dinner either way. Do you know what I mean?”

“So you want to eat dinner with me, but you want to pay for your own dinner?” Dust said.

“Yes,” I said.

Dust shrugged. “Why not?”

We decided on a restaurant called the Applewood Grill. Their food was good. It wasn’t a very chatty dinner experience. Dust didn’t seem to be a very chatty pony, which was fine by me. Afterwards, I mentioned that I should probably visit Izzy Moonbow while I was in town. “Do you remember where I live?” Dust said.

“That must’ve been before the memory wipe,” I said.

“Should we meet somewhere?” Dust said. “How about the library?”

“Sounds good to me,” I said. I trotted off towards the edge of town where Izzy lived. She was home, and we had a short, sweet visit. It was a little jarring, interacting with such a talkative, eager pony after spending several hours with Dust. It was dark by the time I was leaving. I heard crows overhead. Moonlight trickled through the canopy. Wood creaked in the breeze. Bridlewood Forest gave off spooky vibes at night. I liked it.

I arrived at the library, which was carved into a giant oak tree. The door was locked. I didn’t see Dust around, but she worked here. Maybe she was inside. I knocked. A few seconds later, I heard shoed hooves approaching over a wood floor. Dust opened the door. “How did it go?” she said.

“It was great,” I said. “Thank you for letting me sleep at your place.”

“You’re definitely fine sleeping on a wooden floor?” she said.

“If you have like a spare blanket or something, that would certainly help,” I said. “But I’ll take what I can get. I’m strapped for cash.”

She gestured for me to come into the library. “Wait, do you live here?” I said.

“How do I think I stay indoors all the time?” she said. I walked into the library, and Dust locked the door behind me. She led me upstairs, but she suddenly stopped. “Wait, a stallion and a mare sleeping together… is that, like, problems? How do these things work for normal ponies?”

“I’m not the expert on normal,” I said. “But I am asexual, so you won’t get any problems from me.”

“Really?” Dust said. “Well then, what could go wrong?” She continued up the stairs. Our horseshoes made quite a lot of noise on the wooden stairs. Dust led us to the top floor, then followed a narrow, steep set of stairs farther up to a trapdoor. She opened it, and I followed her into a small room. She lit an oil lamp, revealing a bedroom with hundreds of books on the floor.

“Oh, there’s not much floor, is there?” Dust mumbled. She started levitating books and piling them up to make space. Then she pulled a blanket out from underneath the bed and spread it on the floor. There were two pillows on the bed, and she put one on the floor. “Is that sufficient? I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

“This is perfect,” I said. “I couldn’t have asked for more. A place to sleep for free, with a pony I like.” I blushed in embarrassment. That came out wrong. “Well, a pony who’s a good friend, you know?”

“Um, yes, maybe?” Dust said. Huh, that was a curious answer, I thought. But I didn’t want to overthink one thing she said and turn this into a rom-com, so I let it go. She lay down on the bed and sighed. “Are you exhausted?”

“Yes,” I said, stretching my sore wings. “I’ll sleep soundly. But first, do you have a shower I can use? I sweat a lot during that flight.”

“Have you looked behind you?” Dust said. I turned around and saw a knob in the wall right behind me.

“Oh, thank you,” I said. I opened the door and went into the bathroom behind it. I took a quick shower and brushed my teeth. I had brought my toothbrush in my saddlebag. Dust was reading in bed when I came out of the bathroom. “Hey, I’ll be done with church by 11 tomorrow,” I said. “Then I’ll come back here and we can get started.”

Dust just mumbled something and turned a page. I wrote a few notes in my notebook, recording the thoughts I had had about the wording of my plant id book. I turned on my phone, which I had left off. I read a few verses of scripture on it, then turned it off again. I said a quick prayer and lay down. A few minutes later, Dust turned off the lamp. The floor was hard, but I was tired enough that I was soon asleep.